#but SOMEHOW..someone slipped past him on his last mission!

[euovennia]

hcs for reader getting carried away on a mission and getting tipsy and becoming the life of the party with the 141s reaction *smirk*

the fact you all can come up with such gorgeous ideas such as this one and then put your faith in me to write it out is something i'll never understand, but am eternally grateful for. thank you for requesting, and as always, i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: mission gone wrong, little tidbits of angst, reader being a comforting menace to the 141

summary: after the team arrives back to base from a mission gone wrong, you decide to step in with the best comfort known to man.

despite their aching bodies and exhausted faces, the 141 members begin to steadily file into the commons room after wrapping up their much needed showers. unified by their equally low and sour moods after a mission had gone horrifically wrong, they all come to a silent agreement to not discuss the mission. there'd be plenty of time for that when everyone had gotten the proper amount of rest. with price, gaz, soap, and ghost now all sitting in the room doing their own thing, no one really gives anything a second thought. that is, until price brings up the absence of you to the rest of the team. despite knowing you probably just made the decision to take a longer shower, they each can't help but feel a sliver of worry and doubt file into their minds.

had you locked yourself away in your room in a poor attempt to stop thinking about the horrors of the mission they'd failed?

had they somehow left you behind?

a dumb question, maybe, but they can't help but worry.

that is, of course, until you burst through the door of the commons room with a wide smile split onto your face and a full three bags of alcohol.

john price

personally, i don't think price is the type to drink very often simply because he has a more refined taste

this man has had his fair share of alcohol in his life so i feel like he's very picky when it comes to alcohol

like if you were to have a drink with him, he'd be the type to make you take small sips and hold whatever you're drinking in your mouth for a few seconds before swallowing

he'll say it's the best way to "experience the flavor"

meanwhile you're just trying to get wasted

anyway

that's not to say he'll turn down a drink simply because it doesn't meet his tastes; if he wants to drink, he's gonna drink

so when you barge into the common area with some cheap beer and liquor he's not complaining

what does make him want to complain however is when you stumble your way over to him and yank his beloved boonie hat right off his head and place it on yours

he's not quite sure what to think and he even opens his mouth to start questioning you, but then you do the unthinkable

you lean toward him, drop your voice, and start impersonating his fucking accent

it's nothing special really

just a simple, "Bravo six, going dark"

and as much as he wants to rip his hat off your head, drag you back to your room, and force you to go to sleep

he just can't

not when you've just hit him with the most atrocious british accent known to man

and the fact you're trying to impersonate him of all people?

he can't help but let a laugh slip past his mouth

you, obviously, love the fact you made your oh so stoic captain price break and so you continue your exceptionally bad impersonation of the poor man

and he just eats it up

maybe it's the alcohol flowing through his system, maybe it's fact this is the first distraction he's had since that dumpster fire of a mission ended

but he can't help but get into it and encourage you by telling you to say random, silly things in your terrible accent

it's comforting in a weird way

being able to laugh so freely even after the horrors of the last mission

it's hopeful in a weird way

so when you give him a small, drunken smile and say you're leaving to bother someone else

he just gives you a smile of his own and pulls you into a side hug before letting you depart to someone else

but just as he lets you walk away, it hits him

you still have his hat

john 'soap' mactavish

now soap, like price, also has his preferences when it comes to alcohol

they all do tbh

but he's younger and more easygoing about it so he doesn't really mind chugging down the cheap bottle of tequila you grabbed

that being said, i do think soap takes on a bit of a different persona after coming off a mission

i feel like he's more energetic and upbeat on the field simply because there's always so much going on and he thrives off the adrenaline rush

but i fully believe it's typical of him to be a bit more laid back and quiet off missions, at least at first

and that's when a mission goes good and is successful

in the event it doesn't go so well (much like now) he has a tendency to go back and think about the mission in terms of what could've been done better

in other words, what he could've done better

and while he may not notice it himself, he'll eventually fall into a small pit of self-deprecation

that's when you stumble over to him with your lips curled into a smile and price's hat lopsidedly settled on your head

he's not quite sure of your intentions at first so he'll just offer you a kind, but hesitant smile

then you'll say something like, "why are you giving me that fake smile?"

and he can't help but feel a little ashamed

he goes to say something, but you just put your drink on the table and wrap him in a hug

and, of course, he hugs you back (although he is a bit confused)

but he enjoys it

what can he say? you always give good hugs

you'll stay like that for a few minutes

but then you start to sway the two of you

he'll get confused and ask what you're doing

and then you pull back and tell him something like, "i wanna dance"

and soap being soap will say something like, "there's no music"

and for some unknown reason that just set you off

because in the blink of an eye, you're pretty much dragging soap up from his chair while holding one of his hands and chanting out, "spin me! spin me!'

and who is he to deny you?

that's how you and soap end up spinning each other around while the rest of the team watches on with silent laughter as you both try to fight off the dizziness so neither of you fall

unsurprisingly, it doesn't work for long

surprisingly however, it was soap that fell first and not you despite being tipsy

so now you're both sat on the floor with you rambling to soap that, "sometimes it's okay to fall! you just gotta get back up!"

and unbeknownst to you, he takes your words to heart

so now you're being smothered by soap as he wraps you up into a bear hug, his specialty

you'll stay like that on the floor for a bit longer before you catch gaz scrolling away on his phone not too far from you and soap

so you pull back and give him one of your signature grins as you motion over to the unsuspecting gaz

and when he turns back to you with a smile mirroring your own, you know exactly what you plan to do

kyle 'gaz' garrick

as mentioned above, gaz is simply scrolling on his phone when you and soap set your sights on him

as a soldier, one really important quality is being aware of your surroundings

gaz knows this and is really good about remaining vigilant both on and off missions

but he tends to be a little more lax when he's on base simply because he knows the place is jam packed with people who are quite literally licensed to kill

so it's because of this he sometimes get a little too wrapped up in his phone

price hates it, but really, what can you do?

he's young and likes being up to date on things, both in terms of pop culture and world news

side note, gaz would definitely be the best gossip buddy with soap coming in a close second and i will die on this hill

anyway

with gaz so wrapped up in his drinking and scrolling, he barely notices you and soap not so stealthily sneaking up to his table and planting yourselves across from him

eyes still planted on his phone, he reaches his hand out only to find that he can't seem to find purchase on the bottle of beer he'd opened not too long ago

cue him finally looking up from his phone just to see you and soap staring at him with huge smiles while you hold his half-finished bottle of beer hostage in your hands

much like the others on the team, he too is feeling the not so pleasant after effects of the mission so he's quick to put his phone down and stare back at you two with a glint of curiosity and mischief dotting his brown eyes

with all your sense of rationality dulled from the alcohol, soap's natural talent for getting into trouble, and gaz's carefree spirit, it doesn't take long for you three to start embarrassing yourselves

before any of you can really register what's happening, you each find yourselves leaned up against one another as you belt out the chorus to berlin's 'take my breath away' as the song plays from the speaker of gaz's phone

how you three ended up in this position? you're not quite sure

well

it may have had something to do with the extra shots of the fruity vodka you'd grabbed from the store shelf

maybe

but really, who even cares?

you're just happy to be here

and if the easy smiles plastered on the faces of the men beside you are anything to go by, they're happy to be here too

though right now they seem to be too busy fighting over a new song to sing along to

gaz wants '22' by taylor swift while soap is begging for the 'wellerman' sea shanty that went viral not too long ago

how he even knows about that, you're not sure

but as they continue to bicker over the next song they'll be singing along to, you look out the corner of your eye to see price stalking over, his gaze locked on the phone gaz and soap are fighting over

already knowing where this situation is heading from the few times it's happened before, you decide to get ahead of the situation

and by that, it just means you quickly detach yourself from the two men as you set your sights on someone else who just so happened to be brooding in the corner

simon 'ghost' riley

so by now i imagine that it's pretty common knowledge amongst the 141 that simon has a preference toward bourbon whiskey

so naturally you grab him a bottle of it while you were out filling up a cart with various types of beer and liquor

and if i'm being honest, i feel like ghost isn't too picky with what brand of whiskey you grab so long as it's bourbon

so when you stumble your way over to him, you're not at all surprised to see him shamelessly hogging the bottle of jim bean you specifically brought for him

what does surprise you is when he pushes out the seat beside him with his foot as he gives you a small nod of his head in a small gesture for you to take a seat

with the room starting to spin ever so slightly, you easily comply with his silent demand

you two sit in silence for a few moments before you sit up and reach for the bottle of whiskey sitting on the table

ghost doesn't seem to be on board with your line of thought however because this man does not hesitate in snatching the bottle from your eager hands before screwing the cap back on and setting it beside his chair on the floor

you just kinda stare at him with a mix of annoyance and betrayal as you say something along the lines of, "what the hell was that for?"

and this is where he just kinda narrows his eyes at you for a moment before motioning over to the middle of the room where gaz and soap are belting out the lyrics to 'hotel california' by the eagles while price seems to be taking a video of the two of them, a wide grin peeking through his well kept beard

once ghost is sure you've gotten a good look at the trio he'll turn back to you and say something like, "you're not roping me into any of that, no drinkin' when you're with me."

and as much as you wanna try to fight him on it to get just a few more sips, you eventually decide it against it and instead opt for slumping into your seat much to his amusement

the two of you sit and watch as price tries to reign in the mess that is gaz and soap before he eventually gives up in favor of capturing more videos on his phone he can use as future blackmail

the atmosphere gradually melts into a more peaceful one as gaz and soap begin to quiet their singing and move onto slow love songs that they seemed to have memorized by heart judging by the way they barely even look at the lyrics

who woulda thought

but it's at this moment ghost decides to make a comment

"you snuck a lot of alcohol over here"

and it's true, alcohol was strictly prohibited on base, it was something you and everyone else in that room knew

but having sobered up a bit since sitting with ghost you immediately thought he was gonna go into a lecture despite him hoarding a whole bottle of whiskey to himself

so naturally you open your mouth to offer your defense, but before you can even say anything he decides to cut you off

"not a bad move, kid"

wait what

you're confused

and he knows you're confused so he decides to elaborate, "place was dead 'fore you walked in with all that beer and liquor. you made 'em smile"

you frown, "what do you mean?"

he'll sigh and continue, "s not a secret that mission was fucked. thought you were all gonna have a hard time sleepin' tonight," he motions to the space where gaz and soap appear to be serenading price with god knows what song, "but that doesn't seem to be the case anymore, i think you'll all be alright now"

you tilt your head, "oh...i see"

the silence drifts over you two once more, but you decide to disrupt it

you turn to ghost with a questioning gaze, "what about you?"

he raises a brow as he glances at you, "what about me?"

you turn to face him fully, "are you gonna be alright?"

his movements come to a halt as he thinks your words over

would he be alright?

it's no secret that he's a bit more cold hearted than the rest of the team, but that doesn't mean he's no affected by any of it

he holds in a sigh as he glances over to gaz, soap, and price all smiling and joking around with one another before turning back to you

"long as you stick around, i think we're all gonna be okay, kid."

you grin at him

"i've grown on you, haven't i?"

he breathes out a small laugh, "i only keep you around for the whiskey"

you nudge his arm with your shoulder, "that's a yes, isn't it?"

he shrugs, "if you want it to be"

he holds back a small smile at the way you gleam before opening his mouth to speak, "you say anything to anyone and i'll–"

he doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before you're bouncing off your seat and running over the group of three in the middle of the room chanting, "ghost said i'm his favorite!"

he leans back in his chair as he watches gaz and soap feign heartbreak at your declaration while price shakes his head in amusement

"no big deal," he thinks to himself, "i can always deny it"

even if it's completely true

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #mw2 2022 #cod mw2 imagine #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 x reader #task force 141 #ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #platonic ghost x reader #john price #john price x reader #platonic john price x reader #captain price #captain price x reader #soap #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #platonic soap x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #platonic kyle gaz garrick x reader

[soap-ify]

simon can't be with you anymore.

cw gn!reader , angst , hurt / no comfort, simon doesn't know what he's doing.

notes streets said that it's angstmas !! didn't know that it existed until recently. anyways, since i'm having the worst week of my life, i'm gonna ruin it for simon too.

maybe simon was being stupid.

he probably was. not that he could think of any other options besides leaving you.

his work was too dangerous, and the next deployment was probably going to be his last. especially after the recent briefing he went to where the captain spoke about the upcoming mission — a highly risky one. in fact, even the most skilled like ‘ghost’ was bound to either get severely injured or just die. probably the latter. especially since he wouldn’t be with the rest of the taskforce 141 in the fucking warzone.

just a sacrifice for the better of the world, yeah? even though a part of him didn’t want to. fuck the world. you meant so much more to him. but he had chosen this job right. he had agreed to the mission.

and after all, he never considered himself deserving of you, deserving of this relationship he had with you. he knew he was somewhat of a distant boyfriend — barely opening up about his own feelings or past. at least he had shown you his face. you didn’t deserve someone as dangerous as him, someone so… damaged.

he didn’t want to die knowing that you’d be waiting home, all sad and lonely. he didn’t want to leave you like that, but at the same time, he didn’t want to stay and just watch this sweet bubble you two were in shatter. in both ways, he had to leave you. he had to somehow make this less painful, to make it easier for you to move on.

god, he was an asshole. he knew he was. he spent the week just distancing himself from you, responding to your words with nods and grunts while barely reciprocating to your affectionate touches. his heart was breaking more and more everyday, noticing the pained look in your eyes.

he couldn’t keep doing this for much longer. eventually, he had to end this, and he did.

“we can’t be together.”

his words hit you like a brick. literally on a random friday evening. not so random now, it seemed.

“what do you mean, si…?” your voice got quieter with each word, uncertainty towards your own state of mind flooding inside you while a lump formed in your throat, restraining you from properly even speaking out. your eyes stared at him in pure confusion and heart, noticing how he was cladded in his uniform, how he wore that damn skull mask balaclava — building up those walls again that you had managed to break so easily with your love.

simon hated this. he didn’t want to see you so confused and defeated. he had to stop himself mentally from doing something irrational. he was doing this for you, for your own good. though hearing you call him ‘si’ seemed to somewhat crack his composure.

“look, we can’t be together. s’too dangerous. too risky for you. you never know when i might die.” soon, but he held himself from saying that. you didn’t need to know about his deployment, not at all.

“w-why so sudden?” your voice cracked as you tried to properly make sense of his words, emotions taking off your being while you tried to hold in the tears that had begun to sting your eyes.

too dangerous, too risky — maybe somewhere in your heart, you had known that a day like this would come. simon riley was too careful about safety, too dedicated to his work while simultaneously being madly in love. suddenly, all of his sudden distant behavior made sense, and you felt somewhat stupid. stupid for, well, everything.

he was the plague that had infected you, and now he needed to leave so you could heal.

but you never thought of him like that. he was your rock, the anchor that held you from slipping away into loneliness that had always somehow stuck with you throughout your life, a sting that only simon could soothe. it was simon who would craddle you in his arks every night, it was simon who would listen to your rambles. it was simon who your heart was so willing to give love to.

and now he was going to leave.

simon had expected you to scream, to somehow target your anger and frustrations at him. he wanted you to yell at him, he deserved it.

but you didn’t. you sniffled, beads of tears beginning to roll down your cheeks as you took a wobbly step back, too exhausted to fight back or anything.

you didn’t blame simon. how could you? even now, you couldn’t find a flaw in him. too in love? maybe.

as silence filled the living room of the apartment you used to share with him, he slowly picked up his duffel bag and sighed, trying to keep his brown eyes cold and unfeeling, to make it look like he didn’t feel remorseful, to hide his heart was threatening to tear out of his own skin.

“i’ll always love you, simon…”

you said after a few seconds, causing his head to turn over to look back at you — your eyes teary and puffy while your cheeks were streaked with tears, his hands aching to wipe them away. your voice was weak, reluctantly defeated. you know that there was no point in stopping him.

i’ll always love you too, he mentally thought, though never said.

"one final kiss...?" simon froze at your request, knowing that if he were to look at your face any longer, he'd actually stay. he sighed and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead before pulling away, brown eyes hardening up.

he gave you a final nod and exited the apartment from the front door, leaving you alone all over again, your heart torn in pieces as you fell down on your knees, shattering into pieces that no one was going to bother picking up now. only simon could, but he was gone.

simon riley had died three months after that, and you never found out. for you, ge had just disappeared, leaving no traces behind.

just a memory that you were afraid you’d forget eventually, forget his touch and his voice, forget his face — just a memory that was going to bury itself no matter how hard you may try.

#i don't know what i am doing #literally writing everything EXCEPT the simon oneshot i am actually supposed to be writing #evilly ruins simon's life. #teared up while writing this #WHO GETS THE REFERENCE HERE !! #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #cod x reader #call of duty #rurufic

[aphroditesmoon]

whatever fits together

gwen stacy x spidergirl!reader

summary: gwen meets your little brother for the first time (･ω･)

warnings: afab!reader, orphan reader, makeout session.

A/N: idk man I just want gwen to wife me up fr.

♡♡♡

ALL YOUR LIFE, you've only ever saw your brother in your future. There were other people, of course. Whatever friends left that you you haven't ghosted or the ones that haven't left you at the time. But the only constant present you've ever considered in the decisions you make for yourself, has always been your brother.

You were orphaned at 14. Technically only your mother had died in the bus accident, but you can barely remember your father's face, he was dead in your mind.

When Miguel scouted you in, you saw how he tiptoed around your story, and how he tried to sympathise with you, but if you were being honest, you can't really remember how you managed to raise your brother on your own for 3 and a half years while also learning to manage your newfound powers. You knew you it was hard, but you also knew that before you joined the Spider Society, every decision you made was for survival, it was your natural instinct.

There were no space in your life for you to sit around and be a child, nor were there any time to consider every emotional and mental consequences your choices could've provoked. You had to grow up. You had a 3 year old to raise then.

Once you've joined Miguel, you thought you'd finally find some sense of peace within yourself, with all the security and stability the spider society provided.

But coming home to an apartment you've been provided after your first mission, all you felt at the sight of your clothes, arranged in an actual closet instead of a duffel bed, and your brother sleeping in a room he could finally call his own, was nothing, except for a terrible and tremendous stab of pain in your chest.

It was all worth it for him, you truly believed that. And yet you felt like it wasn't worth anything to you.

The strangeness of feeling so alone around a place filled with so many people. You didn't know the first thing about making friends, or having hobbies. In fact, you weren't even sure if you knew what you really looked like anymore, with all the crime fighting and changing hotels every week, you didn't really have the time to be looking in the mirror. It was terrifying.

And yet despite all of that, the universe has somehow managed to slip in an angel shaped as a blonde and witty girl in your life. Somehow she was a lot more shittier in starting up conversations than you were, but from the first glance you shared with Gwen, a mutual understanding was formed.

And from there, a bond was made.

You love early mornings, even when you were often alone, the hours spent after the clocked reaches 11pm have always felt loud, and suffocating. Shops are fully opened and streets are filled with people off to work. So every day, like an automatic alarm clock, you'll find yourself waking up around 7 to 8am to fully enjoy that morning glory.

You've seen the sun sparkle everday in your life, but never have you seen it shine this beautifully through your light blue curtains. Looking below it, your eyes meet the sleeping form of Gwen Stacy by your side.

She was snoring lightly, and though it annoyed you at first, it was also a subtle reminder to you that she was there, next to you, as you tossed and turn in your bed trying to get used to the alien feeling of sleeping with someone else besides your smaller sized brother sharing your bed.

Checking the time on your phone, large numbers of 9:15 reflects on your eyes. making you let out a low sigh.

You came home and slept late last night. Arriving to your apartment through a portal past midnight, hand in hand with Gwen as you introduce her to your house, and to your roon.

It was a Saturday, you comforted yourself. And you were in your bed, making out with the most beautiful girl you've seen, what's the rush anyways. The sudden slam opening of your door jolts you up, and enters from there, a very loud and jumpy 7 year old who was expecting the joyous feeling of finally being able to wake up earlier than his older sibling and getting to brag about it.

He halts on his step when he sees the stranger at your side, who is now wide awake thanks to the slammed door.

"God's sake, what did I say about knocking?" You scolded while getting yourself out og bed, toes clencing at the cold tiles when your feet reaches the floor.

"There's someone next to you, can you see her?" He asks, ignoring you.

Gwen's face was dazed and confused, her eyes were squinting and she wasn't showing any signs of getting up. "Yeah I see her." You replied, walking over to him. "That's my buddy, yeah? Be nice to her."

You hear a incoherent mumble from him as he remains staring at her strangely.

"Why don't you help me get the eggs out? You can help me make breakfast?" You suggested, turning him around and kissing the back of his head. "Is she getting breakfast too?" He asks while walking away to the kitchen, his loud voice bouncing off the walls. "Yes, please." You shouted back to him before moving towards your girl again.

"Sorry about that." You spoke with a much hushed tone. Gwen has her upper body up and againts the headboard, eyes fully open as she takes you in under the sun's glow. "No it's fine, I actually forgot you had a brother to be honest." She admits, smiling as you crawl onto the bed towards her. "Really? I thought I must've been talking about him too much that everyone probably has his name memorised." You chuckled. She hummed and shook her head.

You let your fingers intertwine with her laid out ones, closing your fists into hers. "Do you like eggs?" You whisper at her, leaning in closer to her face. "Yeah, I do." She whispers back, booping your nose. "I also like your brother, he's cute." She adds.

A laugh sprouts out of you as your foreheads lay againts eachother's. "Oh no, he's a real fox once you get to know him, next thing I know you two will be teaming up againts me." She snorts and pulls away slightly to properly look at your face. "Also buddy?" She teases, recalling your early words. "I had my tongue down your throat like-" You groaned and shoved her playfully trying to hide your blossoming smile.

"Oh yeah, sure, lets tell him that." You intererject sarcastically. She rolls her eyes and presses a kiss on your cheek before climbing off the bed where you're still on.

She walks over to your desk and then to your vanity, last night's crumpled shirt still on. "You have a vinyl player." She noted, pulling out your vinyls.

"Japanese Breakfast-" She reads, "and Mitski. Of course you like Mitski." You huffed at her words, nearing her. "What's that supposed to mean?" Gwen makes an incomprehensible noise and shrugged her shoulders. "I don’t know, like, you're, emo?" You choked out a laugh, eyes widening at her explanation. "What?" You breathed out, still laughing. Gwen joins in with a giggle as she tries to reason.

"I've never seen you in anything but black, I mean except right now." She gesturesnto your teal shirt. "Also, having a Mitski vinyl is already one of the requirements, I think."

"Anddd, Radiohead? You're a cliche."

You scoffed, pulling her away from your vinyl player towards the door. "You would know." Gwen gasps loudly. "What is that supposed to mean?" You only smile while pushing her to kitchen with your arms around her waist, holding her from behind.

The smell of eggs fill your nostrils when you entered the kitchen, untangling your hands from Gwen, you swore under your breath before sprinting to your brother, cracking eggs on the pan. "I told you to get the eggs out only." Pulling him away from the pan, you tell him to take a seat while you handle the eggs.

"I've seen you do it, I know how to make them myself." He mumbles. "I can hear you." You voice out. "Elephant" He tries again. You gave him a glance, frowning. "I heard that too?" "Good." He responds.

Hearing Gwen chuckling quietly, you spare her a glare too. "Just like I said, already teaming up."

Your brother hops off his seat after a long minute staring at Gwen from the fisheyed view his glass of water gave, Making her eyes look ten times bigger than they are.

"My sister says you're her buddy." He says it like it's a question. Gwen raises a brow at him. "Did she? I don't know, I think we're a little bit more than buddies." You tense, turning around to glare at her again. "Gwen-" you called out in a warning tone.

"You're best buddies?" Your brother's voice speaks before shw could. "Oh my god." You groaned to yourself. Gwen actually laughs at that. "Yeah, something like that." He analyses her answer until he decided it was good enough. "Okay, she's never had any friends before." This time you actually spin around towards them.

"Dude." You chastised him. "I have friends, you've met them!" You defended yourself as he starts to giggle loudly at your offended state. "No you don't." He affirms, making you stick out your tongue at him before placing the plates of breakfast on the table.

"Don't worry little dude, I can tell." Gwen tells him, the both of them giving you a top from bottom look.

"One more word and I'm throwing both of you out." Your brother has the decency to look scared before digging into his meal, but Gwen only grins at you widely before winking. She also notices how much your brother likes to kick people's feet under the table and then immediately blaming someone else when you scold him. "Your buddy did it! My feet can't even reach you!" He yelled. "Yes it can, I can literally feel your tiny toes right now, don't make me kick you back." You threatened, earning another kick before he seriously stops.

Once everyone has finished eating, you went straight to do the dishes, profusely refusing any help from Gwen, enjoying the bits of control in your life you feel whenever you're cleaning up things.

"Can I show Gwen my spidergirl collection?" Your brother begged. You fight againts a grin, saying yes to him.

Despite keeping a very strict no contact rules you had for authoritative figures and the press, your New York has still found a way to capitalize off of you, which was the Spidergirl Dolls that came with many different stylesnof clothing fron the same theme of your suit.

Gwen gives you a smile and a thumbs up before following him, his voice echoing from the hall as he explains the difference of the dolls. "-and this other doll has a samurai sword too-", you shook your head.

How the hell did they even came up with these concepts?

Finishing off the last few dishes, you make your way to the hall, where both of your favourite people are sitting crossed legged on the flower patterned carpet.

"What's up here?" You ask him as you crouch down to sit.

"The sky." He jokes. "Funny." You respond dryly. Gwen gives you a look that says 'I wonder where he gets it from', making you toss a doll at her that she catches easily, smiling.

Gwen turns to your brother, holding up a caped spidergirl doll. "How much are these anyways, where im from, these kind of figurines are expensive." He looka at her dumbly and shrugged. "Figyu-?" She ruffled his hair, "Never mind."

Moving to sit closer to her, you explain the pricing. "If you buy directly from the store, they definitely cost like a $100 or more, unfortunately I don't think even the real spidergirl would've been give a discount." You explain, hinting that your brother has no idea about your secret identity.

Gwen snorted at your last sentence. "Foul, so what, you bought fake ones?" You slapped a hand across your chest, feigning hurt. "No, excuse you, I bought them second hand. You have no idea how many people there are online, giving up good quality figurines for less than $50." Gwen responds with a knowing 'ahh' while nodding her head. "That makes sense."

"Most of these were bought for his birthday, though I think this year he'd like something else, hm?" You question from his side, wiggling your brows.

"I want a Transformers." He answers simply. "A trans what?" Gwen exclaims, confused.

You smiled at her face expression that was similar to a terrified cat, eyes widening in a bewildered manner. "A Transformers." You repeat aloud. "It's a car robot, like its a car that turns into a giant robot." You were describing it horrendously, but it got the job done. "I don't think we have that in my place." Gwen justifies her reaction. "Are you from loser planet?" Your brother asks, receiving stutters from a baffled Gwen and a embarrassingly loud giggle from you.

"I'm from a very normal and cool place alright." You share a look with your brother, side eyeing her. "I saw that." She calls out. "No you didn't!" He yells out all of the sudden before getting up and running to his room.

You flinch at his movements and shouted loudly, "Where are you going?" After a few seconds of loud breathing and feet stomping, he finally responds. "Im showing her our Transformers CDs!"

"Oh." You exhange a look with Gwen. "Looks like you're in for a ride, feeling alright for a movie?" She looks suprised but accepts the offer easily. "Bring in the trans cars."

---

The little boy lasted two hours before passing out. His head on Gwen's lap triggered a slight jealousy in you. Although knowing that he will grow up and eventually meet new people he'd be fond of more than you, it was still jarring to see it play out right in front of your eyes.

You reach your arms out gently to him, "Let me take him to bed." You whisper to Gwen who only responds with an okay.

He's deep into slumber as you carry him into his room and gently place him onto his bed. After fluffing out his pillow, you let go of your palms holding on his head, letting it gently fall onto the soft material.

Gwen's footsteps are quiet behind you, the small sound of the creaking door tells you she's there.

Getting back up on your feet aftet tucking your brother in, you spin around to the curious girl who's eyes are roaming his walls. "Did he draw this?" She giggled, pointing at a drawing you made. "I love him but this literally looks like a deformed Mickey Mouse."

She glaces to you in hope of sharing a laugh but immediately turns quiet when she notices your frown. "That's mine you dipshit." You snapped and walked over to flick her forehead.

"Ouch, sorry." She apologizes in a groan. "It does look like a deform-" you shove her out of the room before closing the door behind you.

"It is not a rat, its a bear." She grins at your pouting face. "Whatever you say."

You thought she'd be opening a portal back to her universe by now. How is her father now worried? Does he not see what's he's been gifted with?

It was visibly dark outside, the clock barely striking 10pm yet. You'd spent the whole night yesterday with eachother, and the whole day too, binging Transformers movies. If it were you in her shoes, with someone else that wasn't her, you would've left much earlier, the tiring efforts of socialising was usually worst than any weekly villain.

She stops walking when she realizes you've halted in your steps behind her. Her head tilts to look at you. "What's wrong? You don't want to sleep?" She asks.

You open your mouth to speak, but nothing leaves your lips. Gwen's face contorts anxiously as she turns around towards you. "What's wrong?" She asks again. You force yourself to talk. "I want to sleep." Silence fills the space between you and her for a solid minute. "So do I." Gwen finally decides to say cautiously.

Your shoulders drops, letting your strained body and features relax. "Yeah, okay. Let's sleep." Gwen is cut off before she coukd even start as you continue where your words left off by intertwining your fingers with hers and leading the way to your bed. She says nothing about your behaviour after, accepting your returning affections. "If you wanted to makeout instead, just say that." She jokes earning a tired chuckle. "After that long ass movie? No, I'm wrecked."

#gwen stacy x reader #gwen stacy atsv #gwen stacy #spiderman across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #atsv fic #ghost spider x reader #ghost spider

[hotreadingwitch]

MADE TO LIE - the drive

BUCKY 

Bucky woke up early that morning, his unnatural body bouncing back easily despite the amount of alcohol he’d consumed mere hours ago. Looking at the ticking hands of his old-fashioned clock with a huff, he got up and put on his running gear before heading outside. When he was stressed like this, when that ball of feeling inside him threatened to boil over and ruin the entire life he’d built from the ground up since he’d reconnected with Steve, running was the only thing that helped. The secluded property Tony owned was free for their use at all times and it was on days like this where he was particularly grateful that he could complete five laps around the acres and acres of surrounding forest. 

Stopping in the middle of the woods, his heart beating hard, though not from running, Bucky pulled out his phone. 

“I’m scared Doc” Bucky’s quiet admission filled the silence when Dr.Pashia picked up. 

“Scared of what exactly Bucky?” She questioned, her calm voice soothing his racing heart, despite the fact that he was calling her unprompted at 5 o’clock in the morning. 

“You know” he gulped. 

“I do” she answers sagely, “But I’d like to hear you say it. I think it would be more helpful for you that way, don’t you think?” 

“I’m scared of what I’m feeling, of the thoughts I’m having…” his voice was thick. 

“Yes, and what else?” 

“Y/n is so special and I’m scared the closer I get to her the more potential I have to hurt her. We started this mission on the wrong foot and I’ve already harmed her just by trying to keep my distance. I keep fucking up and I’m scared it’s only going to get worse the closer we get” he gulped before confessing, “…You know how long I’ve liked her” 

Dr.Pashia was silent, prompting him to continue. 

“I’m worried that it—that everything I’ve been through has taken all the good out of me. And she deserves someone better than me, I know it” 

“I believe that’s Y/n’s choice to make”

He swiped his hand over his mouth in frustration. 

“I—I’ve got to go—” Bucky strained before moving to end the call. 

“Bucky?” Her voice crackled through the line with a small sigh, “I know this all feels like too much for you to handle but before you go, I want to remind you of who you are and who you’ve been, and no, I don’t mean the Winter Soldier. Remember you’re a good man, a good soldier, a good brother, a good son, a good teammate, and a good friend. Please don’t forget that you are good and deserve to be happy despite what you might think and no matter what you’ve done.”

“Thanks, Doc, as always” 

“You’re welcome Bucky” 

Taking a deep, shaky breath he shut down the call before taking the long walk back to the compound. 

Y/N 

Y/n’s alarm went off and she was quickly awakened from her groggy slumber. She slapped her hand over her phone to turn off its incessant buzzing. Past the large windows, Y/n could see the grassy terrain just outside of the compound as well as the large forest and small lake beyond. She sat up, stretching her body before getting out of bed to get herself ready for the day ahead.

When she finally stood, she felt as if her head was going to explode, her vision going slightly blurry around the edges. She knew she and Bucky would be driving down to the city today and yet she’d drank as much as she did last night anyway, without a care in the world. The truth was it was all the caring that had made her drink that much in the first place…and now she was suffering the consequences. 

“Fuck” she grumbled to herself before slipping into a cozy outfit. 

~

“Morning” Y/n announced as she walked into the gray modern kitchen of the compound, wincing as her cheery tone rang loudly in her ears. 

“Ugh” Wanda groaned back as she saw her friend enter the room, “Not so loud, please” 

“How many times have I told you both to pace yourselves? To not drink so much?” Natasha chided with an eye roll. 

“It’s not our fault that you’re somehow biologically immune to vodka” 

“It’s more of a talent than a genetic thing really” she quipped back before wiggling her eyebrows at Y/n, “Excited for today? 

“Not exactly…” Y/n paused over her bowl of cereal. 

“What do you mean, ‘not exactly’?” Wanda pressed, her head tilting, “Don’t you want to get to know your new partner in crime?”

“Well, I guess I hadn’t thought of it like that” Y/n replied pensively. She had been so focused, first, on her anger at Bucky for being so rude and then on the new budding feeling inside her. She hadn’t even considered today could be an opportunity to learn more about the mysterious James Buchanan Barnes, “By the way, I haven’t had the chance to tell you both, last night—” 

A low, gruff voice from behind them interrupted their conversation, “Ready to go Y/n?”

Y/n turned her head to see the Bucky’s tall form lurking in the doorway to the kitchen. 

“You bet” she replied, trying to keep the atmosphere light between them despite the palpable tension. Y/n got up and headed towards the door, turning to her girlfriends and shooting them a nervous look before following him out towards the compound’s garage. Grimacing slightly at him, she added quietly, “As ready as I’ll ever be”

The garage was a very large white room with a slate gray floor and, of course, a gigantic Avengers logo mounted to the wall. Y/n rarely went in there except to get the jets for missions. She and Bucky walked past the rows of Avengers planes until they came to a door tucked away in the front corner that Y/n had somehow never noticed. It was the exact same colour as the wall and blended in seamlessly. Bucky unlocked it with a small silver key revealing a room full of vintage cars. 

“Wow” Y/n exclaimed at what she assumed was Tony’s collection, running her finger along the shiny side of a red convertible, “These are amazing”

“Well, this one is ours for the time being” Bucky gestured to a slick black car with silver accents. He caressed the car with an almost childlike wonder, taking in every detail of its exterior. Y/n had never seen him excited like this before, he was usually so closed off. 

“It’s a 1966 Ford Thunderbird”

“You like cars?” she assessed, smiling at him before slipping into the plush leather passenger seat. 

Bucky nodded, sliding in as well. As they backed out of the garage he gripped the wheel with his vibranium hand, the flesh one rested on the back of Y/n’s headrest. Y/n couldn’t help but inhale his scent as he leaned into her while he backed up. He smelt good and masculine like wood, smoke, and gunmetal all mixed together. 

As they drove away from the compound Y/n immediately became immersed in the scenery around them. The trees seemed to sway, beautiful with their various warm shades of red, orange, and yellow. Bucky stared at Y/n as she looked out the window, her knees tucked up to her chest. Her head then turned and she was startled to see Bucky’s blue-gray gaze fixated on her even as he drove. 

~1 hour later~

“We should listen to something” Y/n chirped. Bucky rolled her eyes but she ignored his grumpy response, quickly connecting her phone to the speaker, “Hmm let’s see. Well, what kind of music do you like?”

“I like 40s music so…” he replied.

“Any other decades?” Y/n laughed. 

Bucky gave her a stony look but remained silent. 

“60s? 70s? 80s?” She questioned but he continued to fight back with his silence. 

“Fine let’s go with the classics…” she thought aloud, “What about the Beatles?” 

“No” 

“Fleetwood Mac?”

“No” 

“Led Zeppelin?” 

“Maybe” 

“What about Marvin Gaye? Everybody loves Marvin Gaye” 

“I like Marvin Gaye” Bucky replied, earnestly. 

“Steve adores Marvin Gaye” she giggled, pushing him a bit further, grumbling, “You clearly don’t…”

His superhuman hearing picked up on her bait. 

“I like Marvin Gaye” he growled, practically pulling out the steering wheel with his tight grip. 

Though Bucky angry with his fists clenched should have scared Y/n it ended up doing the exact opposite. She broke out into a fit of laughter and couldn’t stop herself even when she saw Bucky’s eyebrows raise at her as if to say, what the hell. In a minute, however, his features softened. Somehow, even though she was technically making fun of him, the gentle laughter of the woman beside him made him smile, even if just a little. 

“Do you even know this song?” She quipped, continuing to playfully jab at him as she queued a track. 

Hey, hey, hey…Hey, what’s happening? Brother, what’s up? 

The intro to Marvin Gaye’s What’s Going On rumbled through the car’s updated system that Tony had no doubt paid too much money to install. The sweet croon of the saxophone, followed by the artist’s mellow voice, acted like a balm to Y/n’s soul. Relaxing further into her cushiony, leather seat, she softly sang the first few lines. 

Mother, mother there’s too many of you crying. Brother, brother, brother there’s far too many of you dying. 

“So, do you?” She poked again, a small smile drifting onto her face, “You’ve got to know this one at least” 

“I know it”

“Thank goodness” she blew out an overly-dramatic breath in faux-relief, turning in her seat to smile at him. 

“You do know I was technically alive in the 70s don’t you?” Bucky chuckled with a knowing smirk.

“How old are you even? Exactly, I mean…” 

“I’m 98” he stated easily, “I’ll be 99 next March” 

“When’s your birthday?” 

“God” he groaned, “Please tell me you aren’t asking ‘cause you want to know my sign. Wanda cornered me when we first met to ask, I couldn’t get away from her for two whole hours. She did my entire birth chart” 

He said the last words with semi-disgust causing Y/n to chortle. 

“So you’re not going to tell me then” she sighed before guessing, “Well let’s think, you’ve already said you’re born in March so you’re either a Pisces or an Aries. Guessing by how emotionally unavailable you seem I’m going to go ahead and say Pisces” 

“Hey! That shit is scary…” he barely repressed a shiver, “I don’t get how you can know these kinds of things about people, from what, the stars?” 

“I like to think it’s fate, the way that we end up that is” 

“You believe in fate?” He scoffed. 

She gazed at him, affronted, “Yeah I do, you don’t?” 

“I learned a long time ago not to believe in things like that” 

A beat of silence passed between them. 

“Well start believing, old man” 

Bucky scoffed again before a smile slowly spread across his face, like he was trying to suppress it but was failing miserably. It took Y/n all her strength to tear her gaze away from the bright expression that had appeared in place of Bucky’s typical stormy, hard-edged gaze. Only when she finally found herself able to do so did she realize that Bucky was parking their car in the mostly empty parking lot of a building just off the side of the highway they’d been on for the last hour. The orange-neon sign stated that they were at “Milton’s Drive-In Diner”

As Y/n stepped into the diner, the jiggle of the bell attached to the door made her jump. It was so quiet otherwise, seemingly no one in the space other than a small older man tucked away toward the back counter and a pair of girlfriends who Y/n assumed might be going camping due to their large packs. Bucky placed a comforting hand on the small of her back, the act easing the tension between her shoulders that she hadn’t even realized was there. She relaxed even more when the smell of pies, pastries, and shitty coffee suddenly filled her nostrils. 

“Not quite a Parisian café but it’ll do” Bucky smirked toward her. 

“No, not quite” she joked back before admitting, “I might just like it better”

Bucky made no comment, though he didn’t need to, the rise of his eyebrow was enough. 

“Hello, hello” a cheery older woman, maybe in her mid-60s, with a Southern drawl called out from the kitchen, “Sit wherever y’all like” 

Bucky shuffled them over to a table in the corner opposite the one the older man seemed to be now passed out in. Y/n sat down at the booth, her hands rubbing curiously across the cracked vinyl of the seat below her.

“Y/n” Bucky said then, something about the soft way he said her name drawing her attention back to him. 

Sometimes she forgot just how handsome he truly was. 

“Yes?”

“Before we get to the city, I think we should talk more about the mission…We haven’t really discussed any of it since Tony assigned it to us” 

“Very good Barnes, I’m sure he would give you a gold star if he was here” she chuckled to herself. 

“I’m serious” he gritted out, “And it’s Bucky” 

Her mind flashed to the night of the party, nodding silently before sighing, a bitterness coating her tongue as she spoke, “Well Bucky, I know this mission goes against everything I believe in and yet because of you and Tony I’m doing it anyways. I also know that, for some unknown reason, you’re just somehow fine with everything. Care to explain?” 

He shook his head in disbelief, ice seeping into his sharp gaze.

“You’re not going to tell me why you’re okay with this are you?” 

“No,” he said through gritted teeth. 

“No?” she huffed, eyes narrowing, “Okay right, real good talk partner. Next time you want to have a real conversation Barnes remember that it takes two to tango” 

“You think I don’t know that” he spat back, lowering his voice to a deadly rumble, “Listen Y/n, there are reasons behind my choices that you’ll never know or understand okay? That doesn’t mean you get to say I’m not trying cause I am, believe me, this is the hardest thing I’ve had to do in years. I’m trying to do the right thing for once in my fucking life, to start fresh, to do anything other than what I’ve done in my past. So please believe me when I say that I am trying, I’m trying to be better for you…” 

The confession sat on the linoleum table between them. 

“Don’t you think we should’ve had this conversation before we even had sex?” Y/n whispered quietly, hating how vulnerable she sounded, surprised at the bundle of emotions that were suddenly spilling out, “We got assigned the mission and you hurt me by being cruel, we filmed the tape and you hurt me by acting like it was nothing, we watched the news spread like wildfire and you hurt me by forcing me to deal with the aftermath alone…All you’ve done is hurt me Bucky and it just sucks, you’re supposed to be my partner in this. I want you to be with me in this.” 

“I’m—” he started, peering down at her with clear regret, only to be interrupted by the old Southern belle from earlier, who was ready to take their order. 

“What can I get y’all? You driving down to the city? Bet you’re staying somewhere nice downtown from the looks of yous” 

“Two Club Sandwiches, a Coke for me and a chocolate milkshake for her” Bucky ordered off, purposefully ignoring the other question about their plans. 

When she left them again, Y/n grumbled, “So now you’re ordering for me” 

“Did I not get you what you wanted?” he asked, cocking a brow, the tension between them slowly dissipating. 

“You did, congratulations you’re an observant creep”

Bucky laughed at that which only pissed Y/n off because that low chuckle of his and that bright smile which was as infrequent as the Sun on a cloudy December day, made her shamelessly grin. 

When their food arrived after a few minutes they ate in companionable silence. Despite their talk, it wasn’t awkward, it was the kind of silence that they both knew came after the storm. And for two people who rarely shared their deepest fears to anyone, let alone someone who could use it against them, that moment of honesty was pouring rain indeed. 

“Just the bill now, thanks doll,” Bucky said when they were finally wrapping up at the diner, his eyes widening as he realized he had just accidentally flirted with the older waitress, calling her by the old-fashioned nickname. 

With a huff, he wrung his hands before opening his mouth to apologize. 

“No need to apologize sweet thing…” she interrupted him with a bright laugh, her peachy skin crinkling with the movement, “Haven’t had much attention since my husband George died just around three years ago now, you’ve done made my day” 

“Oh” he smiled awkwardly, “Well I’m glad to hear—” 

“Paula!” she interrupted again, tilting her head back to call her colleague, “Paula you won’t believe it, this young man here is flirting with me” 

Bucky hung his head and Y/n barely surpassed a snort as she mouthed ‘young man,’ prompting him to glare exasperated daggers at her. Another waitress, who Y/n figured must be Paula, craned her neck out from behind the floppy doors that led to the kitchen. 

“Is that so Daph?” She looked over before throwing a sultry wink at Bucky. 

“Oh Lord” he huffed quietly so that only Y/n could hear. 

When they got back to the car, Bucky caught her hand as it reached for the music dial. 

“Listen Y/n about what you said—” 

“Don’t bother” she responded, “It’s okay, I’m just being overly emotional…” 

It was okay to her in that moment, she didn’t even think she really needed to hear him say it. Just from the sorrow in his blue eyes, she knew he was sorry. 

“But I’m going to anyways…” he continued, “I’m sorry for how I treated you, how my actions made you feel. I never should’ve been so cold. Just because it’s how I operate when I’m nervous doesn’t mean you deserve to be on the other side suffering. I’m truly sorry Y/n and I hope you can forgive me eventually.”

“I do” she whispered before clearing her throat a speaking with more confidence, “Forgive you I mean, I do” 

He nodded roughly before cranking the key in the ignition and pulling out of the Milton’s Drive-In Diner parking lot. 

~

“We’re here,” Bucky said. 

Y/n glanced up at the tall building, admiring the carved white stone walls, the stained glass entrance and the fancy red carpet leading up to the doors. Bucky gave the car over to the valet before sweeping Y/n through the heavy doors and into the ornate lobby. They checked in quickly and then headed upstairs to their suite. 

The room was fancy, to say the least, French in style, and huge. There was a general living space just past the foyer the main set of doors opened to, multiple bathrooms, a study, and even a wide terrace that spanned the entire length of the suite. 

“Alright let’s get ready then” Y/n stated, the plush carpet beneath her feet muffling her steps as she searched, “Where are the bedrooms?”

She moved through the large main room and towards what appeared to be the only remaining door in the suite on the right-hand side. Her mouth parted slightly as she opened the double doors revealing one giant king-sized bed. 

“I’m gonna kill Stark” she growled through gritted teeth. 

“What is it?” Bucky questioned, coming up behind her so that his front was an inch from her back, “Oh”

The proximity sent a shiver up Y/n’s spine. She quickly shook off the memories of Bucky’s soft lips on her skin. 

“Well, anyway” she sighed distractedly before gesturing to the bedroom, “I’ll get ready in here, are you okay to use a bathroom?” 

He huffed before grabbing the bundle of his clothes for the night, “Sure”

Y/n closed the doors to the bedroom and unzipped the garment bag that contained her clothes for the date which she had let Wanda and Natasha pick out for her. Her fingers quickly caressed a dress made of silky red fabric, admiring its quality. She then gasped as she saw what was hanging in the bag underneath it. Instead of a regular bra and panties, the girls had selected a lacy black set of mostly sheer lingerie to go under her dress. “Oh for fuck’s sake” she breathed. 

“Almost ready?” called Bucky’s voice from the other side of the door.

Y/n quickly put the set on and slipped the dress on before realizing it needed to be done up at the back. “Yep!” She responded, “But can you zip me up?” 

Bucky’s lips parted slightly as Y/n opened the door. Her silky red dress hugged her curves in all the right places and they were only enhanced by the tall black heels that she was wearing. Y/n turned, exposing the super soldier to her mostly bare backside. Bucky’s eyes flitted from the exposed small of her back to her lacy black lingerie before focusing on the zipper. 

“Done” he asserted gruffly as Y/n heard the crisp sound of metal fastening. 

Despite Bucky’s past attitude towards her, Y/n couldn’t help her breath from hitching when his hands lingered a little too long on the small of her back.

“Let’s go,” she said, turning to face him. For a second they remained close, both of them breathing in the other before Bucky walked towards the foyer. 

“Right” he replied gruffly, before looking at her and smirking, “We’ve got a date to go on” 

A/N - if any of you were interested in where I got Bucky’s scent from, it was based on Tom Ford’s cologne called OudWood. 

Requested Tag List: cjand10 identity2212 bucky-jbb-sunshine unaxv hnnhbananananana

#fanfiction #fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfic #avengers compound #the avengers #marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes x reader

[dreadsuitsamus]

Hey Ellie! I hope you’re doing good! May I please request sfw prompts #39 and #13 with Vegeta? I got hit with the mood of wanting something soft with Vegeta out of nowhere.

Slow | Vegeta x Reader |

#13- "I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much."

#39- "Why are you scared of loving?"

author's note: something soft with vegeta? sign me the hell up 🫡🫡 this is also (i believe) the second to last request i have remaining from the prompt lists requests, since i lost the lists 🫠

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of canon typical violence and death, no dialogue

Stargazing with Vegeta wasn't a new pastime of yours, but it's always somehow felt so special to sit with your prince in the darkened silence, watching the twinkles above you with no one around to interrupt. It's been a long time of this, with plenty lost along the way, but time and time again you've proven your strength to match up to his and that's why you've remained his second for so long.

You find that your eyes keep slipping to look at him rather than the dipper before you, however.

Oh, how he's changed after all this time. He used to be horrific, cruel even for a Saiyan. He was even unbothered by Frieza's annihilation of your home planet! And now he's at ease, though not without an occasional princely tantrum every now and then. Having his ass absolutely handed to him on Earth ended up yielding results you never could have seen coming; perhaps his death on Namek played the biggest role in his changing ways.

Though it was temporary and will continue to be should he perish again, you'll never quite recover from the scars his death left on you.

Vegeta shifts just a tad, his arm brushing against yours as you both lean on the large rock. It's wide and tall, slanted and perfect for gazing at the stars or clouds alike. It's as if destiny curated this spot just for you and your Prince of all Saiyans— you've never once seen or sensed another soul here.

Goosebumps cover your skin at the vague touch. He's attractive, no doubt, and you've seen him damn near naked more than once and vice versa, but the proximity is a thousand times more intimate and only ever occurs here. Any other time, without this setting, you and Vegeta are both highly prone to distance from the world and each other.

You're certainly best friends, having lived through what feels like three separate lifetimes together. And at one point, it seemed this barrier had the potential to lift. Post-Namek, things were… Gentler. Vegeta had hugged you for the first time, and you remember it more fondly than you'd like to.

There's a solid few taps on the door to the bedroom Bulma's given you, and you don't need to recognize the strength behind it to know it's Vegeta. It's late, well past midnight even, and perhaps he's also finding it hard to sleep on the too-soft bed. You can hardly stand to even sit on it, though you've been seated at the end of it ever since the shower you took in the extravagant bathroom connected to your new bedroom.

"Come in."

He enters quietly, not even a word spoken as he crosses the room to join you. The bed dips as he takes his place to your left, and together you stare at the carpet. This place is much different from Planet Vegeta, of which your memories hold an unfavorable fog, or any Frieza Station. There's no tyrant to obey, no missions to fulfill… The world is yours to claim on terms you get to create, for the first time in your thirty years of life.

Will you and Vegeta have those same terms, though? Or for the first time in both of your lives, will you navigate entirely alone?

Vegeta's arm moves around your shoulders, tugging you close enough for him to rest his cheek atop your head, and your lips curl just a bit for the first time in quite a while.

A breeze rolls through and you shiver despite your hot-blooded Saiyan nature. Unbothered by the chill himself, Vegeta tugs off the jacket he's wearing and drapes it over your shoulders. Wearing a small smile, you give his arm a gentle pat.

You find it difficult to believe the man before you is the man you once knew— though he can probably say the same about you. You were his favorite warrior, slitting throats and tearing things apart with your bare hands right alongside him, and now you care for the son he had out of wedlock with Bulma as if the boy was your own.

Vegeta being a father in itself has been hard to believe at times. But just as he's grown as a man, his fatherhood journey has been complex and constantly changing too. In the beginning he chose not to acknowledge the child at all, not until you swiftly nipped it in the bud at least, though one thing you absolutely could not (and wouldn't dream of attempting to) change was his lack of commitment to Bulma herself. Truthfully, it's probably for the best that they co-parent rather than cohabitate as husband and wife.

She's got it all, though. Money, beauty and fame, his firstborn child even. Why he hesitates, you may just never know.

Looking away from the sky and in the face of the man that's already looking at you, his normally sharp features softer than usual and illuminated by the stars and dwindling fire you lit hours ago. You're left to simply stare and wonder as far as your mind can take you.

Why are you scared of loving, Prince? You think to yourself as Vegeta's knuckles brush against you lightly in his effort to adjust his jacket over you properly.

To himself, Vegeta muses something he may never gain the ability to say aloud.

I didn't think it was possible to love someone this much.

#vegeta x you #vegeta x reader #vegeta imagine #x reader #reader insert #dbz imagine #fic #prompt list request #taura🩷

[staplegrapes]

Right Place, Right Time (Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader)

Description: Rooster stood in front of your house at 5 AM. You had said you wanted to make the most of the time he had off this week. Rooster, being Rooster, decided to play into this a bit too literally. Yet, his plans change in an instant when he can see you through the front window restlessly pacing throughout your house. (No use of y/n).

Word Count: 2.0K

TW: None really, dealing with stress-induced insomnia in the most fluffy way possible

✨Gender Neutral Reader✨

GIF is not mine, credit to the shown acct.

This was gonna be so good. Rooster was always up for a good joke. Something his mom said he got from his dad. He full well knew that him showing up at your door before dawn ready to go on a sunrise run was not what you had meant when you said, “you wanted to spend the whole weekend with him.” But, it was just a perfect opportunity for Mr. Bradshaw to get a rise out of you. He also quite enjoyed poking fun at your night-owlish tendencies. So, clad in a muscle tee, a pair of Navy shorts and his sneakers, he walked up to your house after parking down the street a ways to add to the secrecy of his arrival.

Sure, he knows you won’t bite at the offer. Depending on your reaction he plans to either go on the run himself and then make you breakfast or convince you to let him cuddle you as you slept. The joke was good, but he has good intentions behind it. He can’t help but take your request a bit too literally, it’s all he wanted. After weeks of training and missions, he just wanted to be with you.

Rooster stops in his tracks seeing your living room light was on. Weird. You didn’t work on the weekends, and you definitely were not up in the mornings voluntarily. Maybe you forgot the light last night? Just as he’s settled with that conclusion, he notices a shadow lurking past the wall behind the living room lamp.

Someone breaking in? That was literally his only conclusion. Then he recognized the shadowy figure to possess a very familiar stature, your stature. Just for a moment, he stood there and watched as your shadow got closer to the light, passed the light, turned and then passed the light again. Sleepwalking? If any of the neighbors were going to work right now, they definitely thought Bradley was a stalker, the way he was just standing in your driveway staring in your window. But you didn’t notice.

Does he knock? Would that startle you and wake you up? That whole never wake a sleepwalker is a myth, right? Eh, might as well be safe and just use the spare key. He walks up to your front porch eyeing the flower box in front of the window. Reaching his hand in the front, he feels the key pressed between the wooden flower box and the dirt. Brushing it off he unlocks your door. Slowly and silently, he slips inside the house. Your creaky door (which he has been meaning to fix) does not make it easy for a silent entrance. It seems that he can only inch the door centimeter by centimeter to let it close. When it finally does he notices the sound of your footsteps getting closer from down the hall.

He's never interacted with a sleepwalker before, he has no idea what to do. When you round the corner with your eyes glued to the floor you seemed peaceful. What was not so peaceful is the moment your head snapped up towards him and you screamed. Somehow, Bradley had fully convinced himself you were sleepwalking, expecting to gently coax you back to bed. So, when you scream, he does too.

Legitimately frightened, you stumble back with a hand on your chest. It doesn’t take more than a second to realize it’s Bradley, but your heart is still racing.

“WOAH WOAH WOAH, BABE IT’S JUST ME!” He whisper-yells, holding up his hands in defense, remembering just how close your neighbors were.

“WHY ARE YOU HERE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT?” You whisper-yell back at him.

“MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT? IT’S 5AM.” He retorts. You twist your head in the direction of the living room clock and see he was indeed correct.

“It’s 5? Already?”

Now Rooster is doing that concerned mom thing with his hands on his hips eyeing you up and down.

“Wait why are you here at 5AM?” You continue. He leans back, rubbing the back of his head.

“It was, well I was, never mind that, what do you mean already?” He starts to notice your sunken look.

Unsatisfied that you didn’t get an answer, you can’t deny your side of this is probably more concerning. But you didn’t feel like hashing that whole situation out right now. Just then it occurs to you this is the first time you’ve seen Bradley in weeks, you should be hugging him, not yelling at him.

“Well, either way, I’m glad you’re back safe.” You mumble walking up to him and burying your head in his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around you. You feel one of his hands gently rub up and down your back. Being this close to him is just so, relaxing, but not enough. Soon, he pulls you back a bit.

“Honey, have you slept at all?” he whispers.

You can’t lie, not to Bradley.

“No, but it’s really not…” he pulls you back further, a bit more harshly, but you know it's out of concern.

“No? Like nothing at all since yesterday?” He's starting to get louder.

You shake your head.

“Roos, it’s alri…”

He cups your face with his hands, “Honey, that’s not alright. You need sleep. What’s going on?”

You shrug, pulling away.

“I’ve literally tried everything, warm shower, relaxing music, melatonin, meditation podcasts and even breathing exercises.” You throw your hands up in frustration, he is quick to grab your hands and gently place them back at your sides. You notice he's quiet for a moment, he's keeping eye contact with you while taking deep breaths, likely trying to encourage you to do the same. You start to take longer breaths and you see a small smile on his face. "There you go." He encourages, rubbing your arm gently.

“Well, that didn’t answer my question. What’s going on that’s keeping you up?”

“What isn’t keeping me up?” you shake your head. He tilts his in confusion. You continue your explanation.

“Work is constantly chaotic, my boss has alluded to promoting some people and it’s turned my coworkers into Hunger Games Tributes, all day long it’s just everyone throwing everyone else under the bus. I’m trying to file taxes and keep scaring myself that I’m gonna mess them up and wind up in jail. Apparently, my grandmother’s laptop has been hacked and I spent all of today with her on the phone trying to convince her to talk to the Geek Squad at Best Buy. The Home Owners Association just announced this week that they require the grass cut diagonally, and each violation will be a $50 fine each week starting this Monday.” Rooster goes to say something but you cut him off. “Oh, and yes, of course, my lawnmower is broken.”

He decides to hold his tongue, not that he was going to say anything vile, just it didn’t seem like his words were needed right now. He lifts your head with the side of his hand to meet your eyes, just to see the tears welling up in them.

“I-I just wanted a bit of time to myself after this day, but my brain isn’t letting me do that, not even to sleep. I laid down at 11 gave up around 3:30.”

He pulls you back into another hug, this one is much longer. You can tell he is intentionally breathing deep to relax you a bit, encouraging you to do the same. He accompanies this with leading you in a subtle sway.

“That’s a lot to handle.” He whispers as he kisses the side of your temple. You nod into his chest. He brings a hand up to the side of your face again and guides you to meet his eyes, but he doesn’t lean back at all, keeping you securely in his embrace.

“Luckily, I can help with almost all of those problems. Maybe not the Hunger Games situation though.”

You laugh, which causes some pent-up tears to roll down your cheeks.

“You can?”

“Mhm.” He wipes away your tears with his thumbs before pressing your head back to his chest and starts to sway a bit more, effectively rocking you side to side, just as if you were dancing.

“We can deal with most of them later, but for now, we’ll focus on the one at hand.”

“Which one is that?” You ask, putting your chin on his chest to look up at him.

“Getting you some sleep.”

“Bradley, I’ve tri…”

���Well you got me now. If you’ll have me.”

Truthfully, you and Bradley hadn’t done… much together. You actually had never slept in the same bed, inciting Rooster’s apprehension when suggesting this. You didn't mind though. This was just Bradley trying to help you. Frankly, you'd love to cuddle with him, but there again, you didn't want to bother him.

“But it’s like the morning, you look like you wanted to go on a run or something.” you reason. He shakes his head softly.

“It's 5 AM. No one should be up right now. I was actually hoping you'd let me sleep in with you. There's no place I rather be. You're going to be sleeping in no time." Now it's your turn to shake your head.

“It might take me forever to fall asleep, don't feel bad if you fall asleep first.”

"I'm not sleeping till you're out, however long it takes." He says as kisses the side of your head. Yet, from the look of your evident exhaustion, Bradley could tell it wouldn't take too long. He pulls you back a bit. to look at you. “We got all weekend. What do you say, will you give me a shot?”

You nod and he smiles, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. Without any warning, he reaches behind your legs, lifting up into his arms to where you could wrap your arms and legs around him. Already you feel a bit more relaxed, you tuck your head into the crook of his shoulder as he walks up the stairs to your bedroom. Something about just being in his arms was intoxicating. You could feel his steady breaths, his heartbeat and he smelled amazing. And something about how gentle he was being and that he here to take care of you, it might just be enough to lull you to sleep.

He sets you back down on the side of your unmade bed. He takes your legs and tucks them beneath the covers. As you adjust, he makes quick work of straightening up the comforter back squarely on your bed. Toeing off his shoes and socks, he stops for a second looking at you questioningly.

"Is it alright if I?" He tugs at the hem of his shirt. You nod smiling, trying to hide the blush rising to your face. In one quick motion his shirt is on the floor as he slides into the bed next to you.

You've cuddled before, but never in bed, or with Bradley shirtless (not that, that was a problem). It's almost as Bradley sensed your nerves. He slides closer to you, taking his arm and snaking it behind your shoulders. With that same hand, he guides your head to the side of his neck as he slowly lowers you both down to lie down in the bed. Turning into him, you wrap your upper arm around his torso as you cuddle closer. This feels amazing. It is like when he was carrying you moments ago, but even better. The warmth radiating from him amplifies his relaxing gestures.

"Comfy?" He mumbles looking down to you to which you hum happily in response. He smiles, kissing the side of your head once more.

It took some time, but after thirty minutes of sweet kisses, soft compliments, playing with your hair and having you snugly tucked into his side, Bradley noticed your breathing began to even out. The stress that had once been straining your features has evaporated from your sleeping face. Mission Accomplished. While his day was looking like it was going to be full of errands later, he didn’t mind, as long as you slept through the whole thing.

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A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading! This is my first TGM fic! I have a few Rooster fics in the works, but this one had a lot less editing for me to complete so hence I could post it sooner. I should have at least one more out sometime this weekend, so keep an eye out for that if you're interested. Thanks again for reading. :)

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#top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster #rooster top gun #rooster tgm #rooster x you #rooster x reader #character x reader #reader insert #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort #bradley bradshaw x reader

[jakes3resin]

So I'm watching episode 1 of MOTA again, and all I can think about is what if Bucky wasn't there when the boys land. What if he crashed on one of the missions he was a tag along? What if Buck landed in England and didn't see his John there waiting for him?

Just imagine you're the other crews and personnel at the base. You've just had a new arrival of boys ready to run missions while you're still recovering from the last one that saw more planes leave than came back. How do you respond when one of the newly arrived Majors asks where Major Egan is? How do you say sorry sir but he went down yesterday without sounding callous? How do you react when that Major nearly falls to his knees in front of you?

What do you do when your worst nightmare comes to pass? What do you feel when you let half of your soul slip away like a thief in the night?

How do you breathe when it's your fault?

John's not there when Buck steps onto English soil.

Something's wrong, a sharp voice whispers into his ear. Something's changed. Find him.

There's no one to ask.

The ground crews run to secure their plane, running diagnostics and checking what they have to work with. A lieutenant directs them to a truck, saying they'll be taken to their assigned quarters.

There's no time to stop and ask. No one will stop and let him ask at least. They're dropped at their assigned huts and barely given enough time to drop their stuff off before they're shuffled off again.

Meeting after meeting keeps them busy. Huglin introduces himself and leaves just as quickly. A British Colonel steps up to welcome them. Apparently, they need to be welcomed by every higher up this base has before they can lay down or eat. Every higher up except the Air Exec.

Buck tries to ask, but no one stops long enough to answer him. Apparently, they're planning the next bombing mission already, and all hands are on deck.

Buck wonders if that's where John is.

They're sent back to their huts and told dinner gets served at exactly 6 o'clock sharp. The rest of the evening is their's as they're not on rotation just yet. Buck leads the boys in.

"Are you Major Cleven, sir?"

Buck turns and finds a short curly haired boy staring at him. Kid barely looks eighteen, but there's a tired look to him that doesn't match. He's dressed in the typical ground crew's overalls holding a bike steady in each hand. There's a stripe of grease across his cheek.

"Depends whose asking," Buck waves the other boys into the building. They're all exhausted and should get some rest before dinner. They trail past, grumbling about meetings after being stuck in a Fort all day. All of them staring between Buck, the mechanic, and the bikes.

"Sergeant Ken Lemmons, sir," The now named boy smiles at him, cherubic and sweet. "I'd shake your hand, but I need them to keep these steady you see."

"Nice to meet you." Buck nods staring down at the bikes. "How can I help you?"

Ken pauses, eyes wide and full of some emotion Buck can't place. He doesn't like it.

"Well, I," Ken bites his lip and drops his gaze. "I thought I'd deliver these to you. For Major Egan, sir."

"John sent you?"

Relief flows through him. John's fine. He's just running late or stuck somewhere, and he sent someone to make sure Buck didn't feel forgotten. He'd roll up soon with a bright smile to talk Buck's ear off about what idiotic, mind-numbing task kept him from Buck's side. Life could finally get back to normal with them.

Ken shakes his head. Buck tilts his.

"John didn't send you?"

"No sir." Ken stares up at Buck. "He was just so excited to give you these that it didn't feel right not getting them to you somehow. Can't get anywhere on base without one, and he won them for you."

"Right," Buck glanced down at the bikes, confusion growing. "Would you mind telling me where Major Egan is, if he didn't send you?"

"No one's told you."

It's not a question. Not with that level of devastation attached. Ken's eyes look destroyed, startlingly so. Heart jumping, Buck nearly growls.

"Tell me what, Sergeant?"

"Major Egan didn't come back from a mission yesterday. He, well, uh, he crashed, sir."

The earth drops out from underneath him. He's freefalling.

Buck tries to breathe. He'd told John not to die on him before he got over here, but it'd been light-hearted. He never truly thought John would die, never allowed himself to think it for fearing of jinxing John.

I told you, the voice from before whispers. You didn't notice.

He knew something was wrong when John didn't meet them on the runway. He should have known then. John had been so excited to see him, had talked about all of the things they'd do together once Buck flew over. Nothing would have kept him from seeing Buck.

"Where?" Buck manages out. He needs to know. Needs to know so that he can think. He needs facts and data, something logical. So that his brain will work. His heart feels slashed open from just that word. Betrayed by his brain, his heart rebels even thinking those words to be true.

"Sorry sir, there's no record of where his plane went down."

No record? How could there be no record? That was the navigator's job! How could they not know where John went down? How could they not see it?

Worse, how could Buck not feel it? How did he go about his day yesterday unaware that the other half of his soul was gone? Fell from the sky, and Buck didn't do a damn thing! Had lived through that moment none the wiser! He'd hadn't even paused.

"Buck?" Benny's voice breaks through his downward spiral, and Buck has to push through it. Has to swallow his grief and hold back his tears because he has men to take care of. He has a job to do.

"Sorry boys," Buck turns around face now carefully wiped blank. Benny watches him, and the rest of the crew gathers round the doorway watching. They look worried. Some of them glance behind him at Ken. The one man who'd finally answered Buck. The one man Buck never wanted to see again.

John's dead.

Buck knows he has to say the words, has to tell them what's going on, and then he has to find the other crews and tell them because that's his job. He has to find Curt and Jack. A laundry list of people who need to know. Then he has to write John's mother and sisters. That's his punishment now. He let Bucky fly alone. He has to do this. He has to say the words. But he can't. Because once he says them, it's real. John's gone, and Buck spoke it into the universe. Buck made it true.

"Bit of a hold up on our welcoming committee?" Benny asks. Buck can hear the question he's really asking. Where's Bucky? All of the waiting faces scream it at him.

I don't know! He wants to scream. He's gone! Gone where I can't follow when he promised not to!

"Yeah," Buck says, voice soft. "You could say that."

He clears his throat.

"The sergeant here..."

Fuck, Buck's a coward. The words eat at his insides, gnawing at his heart, but he can't say them. Can't get them up his throat and out his mouth.

"I've got to head in, more debriefs." Buck's heart races. The faces around him nod in understanding. "I'll find you boys after."

The men fall out talking amongst themselves as they head back to their bunks, but Benny stays. Buck tries to breathe. Ken stands silently next to him still holding on to those damned bikes.

"Where's Bucky?" Benny asks before Buck can escape. Buck clenches his jaw. Benny's eyebrow ticks up.

"Something happen?" Meatball runs up to them, panting and happy to see Buck. John will never get to meet him.

"You could say that." Buck manages. He reaches down to run a hand over Meatball's head. John had loved it when Buck played with his hair. The dog bounces around, playfully nipping at Buck's hand.

"What else could I say about it?"

"There was a mission." Buck starts. Tries to speak but shuts his mouth a few times. Benny stares at him. Ken shuffles behind him.

"John," Gale pauses. "Bucky didn't make it back."

"Shit," Benny curses, and Gale stares down at Meatball. His hand rests just behind his ears. The dog tilts his head at him, wondering why he stopped. Bucky used to do that too, whenever he wanted Gale to do something with him.

"Where'd he go down?"

"No record."

"Shit," Benny breathes out. Gale bites his tongue.

"Sir, I really am sorry." Ken's voice is soft. "I thought everyone knew to tell you. They were supposed to tell you."

But they didn't! Gale wants to scream. They didn't, and now I'm alone!

"Thanks for telling us, you can leave those there." Benny says gesturing to the bikes.

"Yes, sir."

Ken slowly turns away with another quiet apology that Gale doesn't acknowledge.

Rage boils up within him. Rage at Ken for telling him. Rage at the crew for allowing Bucky onto their doomed mission. Rage at the Germans for starting the stupid fucking war. Rage at every person who had a hand in taking Bucky away.

Rage at Bucky for leaving him.

It feels hollow to be so angry at Bucky. It's not his fault, but Gale is angry at him. They were a pair, Bucky had made sure of that the day he named Gale.

He's alone now.

He doesn't know how to do it. It's been torture these past few weeks with Bucky in England. The only thing that had gotten him to today was knowing the separation was temporary. How was he supposed to last the rest of his life?

"I'll tell the others," Gale turned to Benny. "Would you mind telling the boys in there?"

"Sure, Buck," Benny nods, staring at him. Gale knows the other won't turn away until Gale leaves, so he does. He has to. He has to turn away and start moving. Because if he lets himself stop now, he doesn't think he'll ever be able to move out of that rage. He'll sink into it, and that's not who he wants to be. That's not the man Bucky loved. He need to keep going. For Bucky.

Gale heads out. He walks without any place in mind. He doesn't know where Curt or Jack are quartered, doesn't even know who he could ask. He simply walks through the base.

A crowd draws his eye, and despite himself, Gale wanders towards it.

Men rush into a hut not to dissimilar to the one Gale had just walked away from. A few of them hold clipboards calling out names, and as Gale watches, trunks matching those names get carried out.

"Excuse me? Are you assigned to these barracks?" A private walks up to him, clipboard clasped to his chest.

"Pardon?" Gale walks closer. He scans the rows and rows out trunks as they're loaded onto a truck.

"Are these your quarters, Major...?

"Major Gale Cleven. No. What are these?" Gale runs his hand along the nearest trunk.

"Trunks to be sent home, sir." One of the privates turns to him. "We have to move them out so the new arrivals can move in."

That's why they were stuck in useless meetings all afternoon, Gale suddenly realizes. They'd had to move the missing men's belongings out. The knowledge makes him ill.

"Where do you take them?" Stomach rolling as he asks, Gale projects an air of stoic calm.

"Down there," The private points down the road. "It's another empty bunkhouse, but it's better than storing them in the open sir."

"Right," Gale murmurs, mind already racing. "Back to it boys."

Gale walks, purposeful this time, down the road. If all of the trunks were being moved now, maybe... maybe Bucky's was there. It wouldn't be much, wouldn't be him, but it'd be enough, just enough to get him through today.

No one stops Gale as he walks into the bunkhouse. In fact most of the boys avoid his gaze as if he were a ghost walking among them. Which maybe he's as close a man can get. Half his soul is gone. Doesn't that make a man a ghost? Can't he qualify?

Bucky's trunk is tucked in a back corner. His must have been one of the first to be cleared out.

Gale kneels beside. He'd never been too religious, but this feels near enough to a church that Gale barely dares to breathe.

The trunks sits there bathed in the late afternoon light streaming through the windows. Gale reaches out his hand. The metal is cold to the touch. The paint spelling out Bucky's name is a soft white. There's a scratch across the top, and scuff marks along the bottom. Gale traces those. They're signs of life. Signs that Bucky once lived and breathed dragging this trunk along behind him.

Gale can't open the trunk. He thought he could, thought it'd help him, but he was wrong. This is worse. Sitting here in this graveyard of lost men, Gale feels tears burning at his eyes that he can't hold back anymore.

His John is gone. Bucky is dead, and all that's left is this trunk. This trunk and Gale.

"Can't believe you boys moved my fucking trunk! Talk about burying a man before he's dead!"

Gale's heart stops, and he turns tears trailing down his cheek. Barely daring to hope, he stares at the entrance.

"Sir, we were informed that we needed to move these trunks. Our apologies for not double-checking!"

"Yeah, yeah. Hey, any of you guys hear if the 100th flew in yet?"

Gale scarcely dares to breathe.

"Yes, sir! They flew in three hours ago."

The voices grow closer. Gale turns, still on his knees next to Bucky's trunk. Any second they'll walk in. Any second Gale's hopes will be dashed, and he'll return to a world where his John, the boys' Bucky is dead. He'll remain a Gale with no one else's name attached to him.

Any second.

The moment passes. The door opens. Light bleeds into the room, and Buck hadn't known how dark it had been before then.

#went a bit experimental with the writing style hope yall like it #the ending is a touch open ended but if you were paying attention to what i was doing with the names youll get the real ending #mota #masters of the air #buck x bucky #clegan #bucky egan #john egan #john bucky egan #gale cleven #gale buck cleven #buck cleven #buckbucky #my writing #mota fic #also the trunk is inspired by my own grandfathers ww2 era footlocker that i have #those mfers are sturdy as all hell and heavy as fuck #nearly broke my foot trying to move it once

[illumisimi]

Can you do a yandere Shalnark with slight nsfw? “Am I wrong? You want to be loved, don’t you?”

“you want to be loved, don't you?”

characters: yandere! shalnark

warnings: slight non-con, suggestive

notes: im so delighted to be writing for shalnark again, he's most definitely been moved up to my #1 spot for sure ♡

you had simply been caught with your guard down. never had you imagined falling into a spider web such as his; and, try as you may, there was no getting out of it

shalnark had taken a liking to you ever since you had crossed paths on a mission. naturally, you were on opposite sides of the conflict; that didn't stop him from purposely tripping you over to fall right at his feet

in that moment, you gave him an all but welcoming glare, brushing yourself up in a hurry as you were called by a voice from afar. but he only needed those few seconds, eyes locking momentarily, to be convinced that you were the one

it was your attitude, your mannerisms, your...being. everything about you just seemed to spark up something in his mind, and he simply couldn't get enough. watching you disappear into the distance made him realise that, unless he took some sort of action, he was most likely never to see you again

but, unfortunately for you, the two of you did indeed meet again. though, this time it played out a little differently. somehow he had managed to sneak into your apartment, pricked your arm with what you would later assume was some sort of sedative and whisked you away into the hazy city streets

you tried to fight your way out of his grasp. hours spent clawing at the walls of what could only be considered a jail cell. no windows, only a bed and a simple toilet to keep you company when he wasn't around

it was a nightmare. you had heard from others that, despite his cheerful appearance, shalnark was one of the most unnerving members of the troupe. you were now realising what they meant by that

he was good with his words. a little too good. excluding the first few days of captivity where he would be inclined to knock you out whenever you'd try to go up against him, he would always greet you with the kindest of smiles

a plate in his hand, or sometimes even a gift. it didn't matter what he visited you for, his sickly smile never faltered. it was as if he were mocking you

"I brought you your favourite dessert!"

shivers ran down your spine each time he insisted on feeding you. there was something definitely not quite right with him. however, endless days of the same treatment eventually took a toll on you

he happened to walk in on one of your worst days. hands holding your head, you were sat in the corner of the dark room, tears slipping through your fingers

months had passed since you had last had a normal, human interaction. you craved comfort, reassurance, sympathy.

shalnark wasn't stupid. he could see what was going on with you. he would purposely avoid embracing you and giving you any affectionate attention. it was a mechanism that worked all too well for him.

"y/n! are you alright?"

teary eyes shot up from your curled up position, turning your head to look straight up at him. his figure was almost a blur from the light that shone in from the door. if only you could just-

"ah, ah, ah! you know the rules around here, sweetheart"

your attempt at jumping past him proved to be futile. catching you in his arms, you were now being cradled against his body, your cheek resting by his arm as you looked towards the open door

your body went limp. what was the point? you could feel his grip on you tighten, lifting you up slightly to make you look at him. such blue eyes could never belong to someone so corrupt as himself, and yet they stared down at you in faux adoration

he brought one of his hands out to caress your face, soft skin brushing against your tired features. you closed your eyes unconsciously, trying to imagine that it was anybody but him in that moment, finally giving you the peace you craved

"you could've just asked that you needed some extra attention, you know?"

your back was gently pushed back against the wall, legs finally straightening so as to prevent yourself from falling. you didn't lean away from him, though, bringing your face closer to him and resting your forehead by his shoulder

you were so entranced in your imaginary bliss that you hadn't even realised his hands had moved. a smooth touch roamed from your chest down your stomach, brushing over the fabric of your thin cloths

it wasn't until his hand made it a little too close to your thighs that you jolted up, stiffening upon realising his intentions

"what are you-!"

the hand that, just seconds ago, had been cradling your face was quickly wrapped around your neck, pushing your head back against the concrete wall with a low thump

as you looked up at him, it was clear that something had shifted in him. his eyes no longer held the same gleam as a few moments ago

you questioned if he could simply kill you off in that moment

"you wanted attention, didn't you?"

blinking away from him, you furrowed your brows in annoyance. yes, you craved affection, but most definitely not from him

"get the hell away from me"

he could read you like a book. despite all the voiced inside your head telling you to find a way out of his grasp, there was something keeping you back

it was as if you had lost your senses

"you could escape, your chance is right there and you know it. but you're like a deer in headlights"

his voice was laced with an amused tone. he had leaned down, speaking so close to your ear that it would only take a turn of your head to strike him

you missed this contact. more than you would ever admit to

his hand continued his ministrations, sliding ever so close to where you had been deprived of any kind of attention

"you want to be loved, don't you?"

2022 © illumisimi

#hxh #hxh shalnark #shalnark x reader #hxh x reader #suggestive

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Star-crossed in the Crosshairs (John Price x Reader)

Chapter 7: The Lengths That I Will Go

Fic Summary: This mission is the pinnacle of your efforts for the past three years. Your whole team and yourself have worked countless hours, slaughtered hundreds, risked life and limb for scraps of intel, and now it all boiled down to pairing up with another taskforce to get this job done and dusted. An unexpected spanner in the works comes in the shape of your former best friend, now also a Captain and somehow resurrected from his KIA status, John Price.

You can’t afford to let feelings - old and new - get in the way of your purpose. No matter how much you’ve missed, wished for, loved him, and no matter how much he might feel the same.

Chapter 6 // Masterlist // Gif Credit // AO3 Version // Chapter 8

Left eye swollen shut, you spat out the blood that had seeped into your crooked mouth and tried not to think about how your dentist was gonna look at you if you needed another tooth replacing. Your captor took time away from your face to exploit your ribs, which you were certain had transitioned from bruised to broken thanks to the knuckleduster he had slipped on just minutes ago. You’d been counting them for the sake of passing the time. All that torture training resurfaced for the first time in a eight months, and you resolved yourself to the pain – your only ally besides the inside of the hood that allowed splinters of light through the minute gaps in the woven fabric.

First rule: never give your captor anything.

Second rule: give into insanity.

It didn’t matter how many of your team survived right now. Because if you imagined hope for a fraction of a second, imagined that they were coming for you, you had something to be broken by and you would not be broken by this. Right now, you didn’t know how many of your team had made it. You could afford to lose yourself. Therapy would bring you back-

No, stop it. No therapy, no hope, this is it.

And you knew why it was harder to compartmentalise this time than last year. You’d let your emotions slip out before you were out of the storm, let yourself get so damn sentimental over Price and your history together. Now, instead of having a good cry about it in your office or sleeping off the stress on a flight home, you were stuck here with a fucking bag on your head and injuries that would only aid your captor’s attempts to chip away at your resolve.

Your eyes had dried about two hours in, no room for instinct amidst the flourishing bruises and ringing ears. Tears had dried up with the blood staining your skin and soaked the hood; every punch no doubt cracked the blood into flakes.

Mercifully you were lifted under the armpits and dragged across the floor. You counted two doors opening and closing and an elevator in between, the concrete cutting off to mosaic tiles that trapped and tripped the toes of your boots that grazed over them. Only when the dragging stopped and you were forced stand up was the hood removed from you. At last you got a look at your captor – incredibly unremarkable compared to the man you both shared a room with.

Čiernik was laughably attempting to position a webcam atop an ancient laptop in the corner. As you were forced to stand in the centre of the room, he moved aside and you stared down at the monitor where someone was depicted staring with their gormless face smeared in blood.

Oh. That was you.

Your zip ties snapped off your wrists, but you didn’t start swinging because another prisoner was being shoved in front of you and you could tell from the uniform who it would be.

A similar state of affairs, Price had his hands in zip-ties, his shirt already removed and the sack on his head taken off shortly after. His absent boonie bared his face beneath the low hanging light bulbs. A stream of blood ran from his temple to his bushy jaw. Somewhere inside of you, there was a discordant pang. You ignored it and slow blinked at the corner of the room above his head where a few strands of spider web swayed in the air-conditioning’s flow.

“You will fight,” Čiernik stated.

Sluggishly, you looked at him. He was pointing, rather comically, at the laptop where he’d switched to another tab. Bronze was depicted upon it, breathing to your relief but it looked to be a massive effort on his part. Head slumped over, he was held under the armpits by two gruff looking bastards. He’d been stripped to his under shirt, more brown than white around the tear where he’d been shot.

“You will fight,” repeated Čiernik as Price’s zip-ties came off.

As you returned your stare to your would-be opponent, Price mouthed something at you and he put up his hands, gesturing for you to come at him. You didn’t catch what he was trying to tell you. Instead your head, with its defences lowered, filled itself with memories of easier times, how Price always beat you in sparring. Closest you ever came was drawing, both of you pinned in a position of pain and neither of you tapping out until your commanding officer at the time demanded you both let go. He was the best. Best of the best.

Your left eye, stinging and sealed off, was throwing off your depth perception as you swayed on the spot, fists up. Čiernik’s crooked glee

Hit first and hit hard.

You landed a solid blow to the side of Price’s head, sending him stumbling. Bloody saliva fell from his lips, splattering onto the ground as you threw another punch and crushed his fingers beneath your boot. If he didn’t have a concussion from before, he definitely did now. Something stirred gleefully in your stomach at that.

Finally, he met your attacks with defence, locking you into a grappled and hunched over stance. You shook it off, trying to keep up the charade of fighting your friend. He wasn’t going easy but neither were you, smashing your skull heard into twice before he swung you around and onto the floor. Your feet skidded on the concrete like you were on ice.

“What the hell is this?” The authoritative American accent from across the room came through glitching as it emitted from shitty laptop speakers. Čiernik spun round to face the laptop.

“You bomb my men and think you can get away with it?” His sneering face moved close to the webcam’s lens, “You want them? You come and get them yourself.”

Then he muted the caller. But you’d already pieced together who it was and why Čiernik was Zoom-ing your forced fisticuff.

Two menforced you and Price to face one another, an inch apart like you were pitbulls in a ring, growling and snapping teeth, their hands tugging back your heads like leashes.

When you heard John on the radio, the day that he died, you knew how Orpheus felt in that split second of distrust and relief at seeing Eurydice there, just a fragment of time as he shouted down the radio then let out a cry and was cut off from you, sealing you apart with Price in the Underworld and you cursed to remain on the mortal coil forever. Now you were stuck in Purgatory together without a obol between you to get you out of here.

“I only need one Captain to make a deal with. Keep going.”

On Čiernik’s command, you were both released to continue the brawl. A high-pitched whine shot through your head as Price slammed his fist to your chin. His turn for “hit first and hit hard”, it would seem. Your trousers started sliding down your hips and you grasped at your arm where a rag replaced your makeshift tourniquet. Hiking the trousers back up, you launched yourself at him and swiped at his legs to knock him off his feet.

You should be biting his ear off or digging his eyes out, reshaping his face like it was made of clay beyond a few punches. Your teeth were gritted in your jaw in an attempt to satiate your sudden bloodlust. A burning desire to strike him over and over was stoked strong inside of you. But somehow you were holding back, and so was Price. Even as he got you in a headlock, breathing hard against your ear, spit splashing on your lobe, he could’ve done so much worse than the knee to the chest you received. Could’ve used his boots for a start or aimed for something more juicy, like where the sledgehammer had gotten you. It still hurt like a son of a bitch yet it could’ve been a direct hit. He was holding out hope, making you do the same, and it was putting you both in more danger.

Heard over a painful cry, the sound of the door flung open snatched your attention. A spewing smoke canister bounced off your bullet wound and onto the floor as you seized Price around the middle – away from a lunging Čiernik.

Unceremoniously, you were both hauled away from the smoke and into a blinding light.Your blurred vision pieced together Gaz and Crash barricading the door behind you. Bullets began denting the metal hull of the doorframe. You swung your head around to find Ghost, his hand just now removing itself from your shoulder – sore from how he’d yanked you in his rescue.  

“Good to see you,” He said casually.

Crash pushed a pistol into your hands, “It’s not just the villa. It’s every villa. They’ve taken the whole town.”

Brain barely blunted by the shortest capture you’d ever faced, you recalled those papers with postcodes and house numbers, the ones you’d walked past without a single indication that you were already within the trap.

No wonder your team only just managed to catch onto Čiernik; Shepherd clocked him first, made him more obvious by soaking up his spread of occupation on the border of Russia.

“Can you shoot?”

“Sky’s still blue, right?” You tucked in the earpiece Crash handed you next, “They’ve got Bronze. Ghost, you and Gaz will clear the way for us. We’ll scout ahead for where she could be. She lost a lot of blood back at Shepherd’s villa. Price, you and Crash will cover our backs. Have we got an exit plan in place?”

“Laswell’s sending reinforcements. New exfil is twenty klicks south-south-west of the original.”

You didn’t ask why Soap was absent, or if Chance had made it out. No time.Reinforcements were swarming on your location.

First two rooms were left vacant but recently let if the bloodstains dragged across the stonework were anything to go by. All following rooms required a spray of bullets before checking it, your wound stinging more and more. But the shackles on the walls and the array of weapons on call told you this was a torture floor, and you had to find Bronze-

“I’ve got Bronze!”

You lurched around at where Ghost had called from. He already had Bronze over his shoulder. Time to bounce.

Crash took over on the lead, continuing onwards rather than backtracking. More of Čiernik’s arseholes were thrown at you from the staircase above so you had no choice but to spill out into the streets. All hopes that civilians wouldn’t be caught in any crossfire died back when Crash had revealed the expanse of Čiernik’s real estate reach. Your only hope was the row of parked car outside the back door. You pressed against the front tire, scanning in the rear-view mirror (ripped off from the vehicle for convenience) for a potential way out. You had two seconds to view the street before the mirror sparked out of your hand, shattered by a high calibre bullet just as Price finished the barricade, giving you a minute to get out of dodge.

“Manhole,” You told Gaz with a nod of your head to the right.

Gaz nodded back, “Cover me; I’ll get it open.”

Brave bastard, you were tempted to steal him from Price as he dodged hellfire to crowbar open the manhole cover. Ghost, Price, and Crash covered him well enough whilst Bronze slumped up beside you

He slurred out, “Cap?”

“Keep going, Bronze. We’re nearly out.”

“Huh,” He leant his head on your shoulder, making you wince internally, “Feel like we’ve been nearly out for hours.”

One by one, your colleagues funnelled down the hole while you covered him.Even with your left eye out of action, you managed to nail the bastards hunting you down, even with Ghost’s hulking figure drawing attention as he lowered Bronze down, until it was time to drag over the manhole behind you.

Through the sewer system, surprisingly amazing brickwork curving overhead. It wasn’t worth a damn fragment of your attention, even if half the team weren’t dragging barely conscious through a miles of shite. The static around your arm spread up your neck at the stench surrounding your team.

“Bronze?” You called out ahead without coughing on the stench.

“Still hear, Cap.” It came out faintly but he was still conscious, thank fuck.

“Crash?”

“Still goin’.”

“Gaz?”

“Alright here.”

“Ghost?”

“Not broken.”

“Price?”

“Still standing.”

Within the hour, you were overground once more in the arse-end of Nemšiná, having added an extra two klicks onto the journey if your calculations were right.

So it was a respite you welcomed when a hijacked van skidded over to your team with a grinning Scotsman in the left-hand driver’s side. Still, no Second Lieutenant in the passenger seat.

Your team loaded on quick and got out of the town quicker. Soap swerved around and looped back on himself three times whilst you and Crash administered first aid on Bronze, sewing him up to the best of your abilities against a rocky road. Then you arrived at the new exfil point with a Chinook ready to take your Sergeant to the nearest hospital. A bag of A Positive and a needle welcomed him aboard and you bade farewell for now.

A phone was stuffed into your grasp by a soldier in uniform you took a second to recognise – Odristan Special Forces. Thankfully you recognised the caller ID faster and addressed General Fernandez the second your voice reached the received.

“You broken, Captain?” He asked.

“Fit for duty, sir.”

“Your black box did its job perfectly.”

“Any news on Chance?”

“She’s been getting the rest of Sierra team ready for the final push.”

“Any other updates I should be aware of? Or can I check in with the team?”

“You’re free to go. This is still your op; they’ll follow your command.”

Fresh from capture and still calling the shots, you felt quite pleased with yourself for that. However there was little time for that kind of thing before the so-called final stretch. There was however time for a power nap and an energy bar before you started planning anything.

The rest of Sierra were bundled into a large camo green tent nearby, cleaning their weapons, arm wrestling, talking in hushed voices. The second you entered one of their sightlines, they rippled in a wave of standing to attention, their feet stomping like falling dominoes – including Chance who stood out by the hand she held over her abdominal.

“At ease,” You said firmly, “Carry on. Chance, a word.”

She almost trotted over to you with a drone under her arm, her voice low beneath the chatter of your team behind you. “Captain. You look like shit.”

Ignoring her comment, you asked, “How’s the gut?”

“In pieces, but I’ll live. You still good to finish this?”

“If you’re my eye in the sky,” You gestured to the drone then to her stomach, “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“You too. Medical’s set up over there if you want to get yourself checked.”

You followed her suggestion. The last thing you needed was to charge into an assault then slipping on your own vomit, spinning in your nausea. And of course, the universe placed you in the bunk besides Price who was icing his jaw and his left knee.

He waited until you covered your left eye with an ice pack to speak: “You hit hard.”

“You hit like you’re riddled with arthritis.”

“Well, you did stand on my hand,” and Price held up his hand, wiggling his fingers to display the lack of tape and gauze. You hadn’t broken a thing.

That angered you more than anything that transpired in Čiernik’s basement. You channelled those sudden bubbles into a restrained reply:

“I’ll stamp harder next time.”

“And I’ll kick harder,” Price chuckled, leaning back into his ice pack. Against the plastic, you could see a faint purple amidst the red on his cheek.

How easily you were forgiven, it was almost insulting. Why couldn’t you do the same despite saying the contrary? Perhaps you could unpack that to your new therapist, that and your apparent fury that was just below the sealed surface that was still pushing up towards your throat. You swallowed hard as you fumbled in your pack for your spare watch. This was the final stretch. You just had to get through it then you could figure this out. Releasing the ice pack from your eye and laying back to balance it against your ribs, you rubbed at your wrist then slapped it with a sigh. Čiernik had stolen your watch.

_____________

AN: Thank you again for your patience with this! I'm writing during half term so this is nearly finished and I can't wait to share it.

In other news, I saw "Boys from the Blackstuff" on Thursday and it was brilliant! I love live theatre so to see such a stunning production was a real privilege. Bonus points were seeing Barry perform (I was shaking with how good he was). Not only did I paint him as Yosser, but I met him at stage door and got to give that painting to him! He was very kind to my starstruck ass. I'll never shut up about it lmaoo

______________

Tag-list: @mockerycrow and @entertain-my-lvst

#john price x reader #john price #captain john price x reader #john price fanfic #cod fanfic #mw2 fanfic #cod #mw2 #cod x reader #my writing #r: gn #wc: >2k

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Secret Santa

Winter Whumperland: Day 6. Shared Holiday Meal

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader, Simpson!Reader

Summary: With everyone heading home for the holidays, the Daggers decide to throw a last-minute holiday party before they leave. And your secret Santa takes you by surprise.

Word Count: 1758

TW: Fluff

Notes: This idea started out as more of a group fic (hence the header) but slowly transformed into a Rooster fic as I wrote it.

It was a Christmas miracle that the entire Dagger Squad was somehow able to all get leave for the holidays. It was almost unheard of but no one wanted to ask any questions in case someone realized a mistake had been made. And so, tickets home to visit family had been purchased all around and everyone began to pack their bags to leave. 

Only two members of the squad were staying in town. Rooster had agreed to spend the holidays with Mav, Penny, and Amelia. It was the first time in over fifteen years he would be spending the holidays with his godfather and both men were secretly very excited about the idea. And you were staying near North Island to spend the holiday season with your father. As the Air Boss at Top Gun, it wasn’t surprising that Cyclone wasn’t able to get Christmas day off, yet he had managed to work it out so he would be able to be home early. It was more than you usually got with him so you were beyond thrilled.

And yet…. 

It was amazing how close all of you had become in the last few months. While most of you had known each other either personally or by reputation before the Dagger Mission, the bonds that formed between the members of your team were stronger than any of you had experienced in past assignments. Personally, you chalked it up to Mav’s training and focus on teamwork and support. But regardless of the reason, the Dagger Squad had become its own small family.

Which was what made the fact you were all going to be scattered across the country for the holidays so bittersweet. You were all going to be with one family but leaving another behind. Which was why everyone immediately got on board when Bob suggested a mini-Dagger Christmas the night before everyone left. 

It was decided they would hold a potluck dinner where everyone brought their favorite holiday treat. Payback organized a Secret Santa and had everyone draw names from his helmet when they were leaving training (Hangman had offered to do it, but no one trusted him not to put his name down on every slip of paper). Phoenix, Bob, and Fanboy took charge of the decorations while Coyote created the perfect holiday music playlist (yet another job everyone refused to let Hangman do). Rooster agreed to pick up the alcohol from the Hard Deck after you somehow managed to talk your dad into letting you hold the party in the rec room on base. For such little planning time, everything seemed like it came together flawlessly. 

That was until you arrived. The room looked amazing. Strings of lights, tinsel, and ornaments covered the walls while large paper snowflakes hung down from the ceiling. A table had been set up along the back wall for the food and drinks so you quickly headed back there to deposit your plate of cookies. 

But when you reached it, you stared at the items all laid out and sighed loudly. “Jake.”

Hangman crossed the room to where you were standing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wasn’t your job to make sure everyone was bringing something different?”

“Uh, if I remember correctly, you just said to find out what everyone was bringing and make a list.” He grinned widely. “I think everyone made excellent choices.”

You groaned as you looked back at the table which was filled with nothing but eggnog and a variety of cookies. So much for dinner.

“The eggnog on that end of the table is already spiked.” He pointed towards the six bottles to the left. Then pointing to the only small bottle on the right, he added. “That one is plain.”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Good to know. I’ll make sure to tell Bob.”

Hangman grabbed a gingerbread man from the plate at the center of the table. With a wink, he snapped off the head between his teeth and said, “And don’t forget to try one of these. They’re an old Seresin family secret recipe.” And then he walked off to where Coyote was hooking up the speakers.

You groaned again as you scrubbed your hand over your face. It really shouldn’t have surprised you that Hangman would do this and if you had to guess, he probably even encouraged others to bring one of the two items in front of you.

“It’s okay. I just ordered a dozen pizzas and they should be here in about an hour.”

You looked up in surprise to see Rooster suddenly standing next to you. “You didn’t have to do that. That must have cost you a fortune.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I put it on Mav’s card.” Rooster said.

Laughing, you said, “Remind me to thank him later.” Poking Rooster in the chest, you added. “Great sweater by the way. Very appropriate.”

Rooster looked down at the giant chicken wearing a Santa hat that was on his chest. “Thanks. I saw it and couldn’t resist.” 

The two of you stood in silence for a minute, each munching on a cookie. But just as you finished yours and was about to excuse yourself, Rooster pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and offered it to you. “I’m not sure how we are doing this, but this is for you. I’m your secret Santa.”

“Oh!” you said in surprise. “Thank you.”

Taking the envelope, you tore it open and peered inside. Your jaw dropped as you looked back up at him. “Are these…”

Rooster smiled as he nodded. “I know you were talking about how bummed you were that the concert sold out before you could get tickets. Merry Christmas.”

Still in shock, you removed the two plastic cards and the attached lanyards. “Rooster, these aren’t just tickets. These are backstage passes. Don’t tell me you put these on Mav’s credit card too?”

“No, then it wouldn’t have been a gift from me.”

“You realize we had a $20 gift limit. This is so, so much more than that!” 

He shook his head. “Technically, I didn’t pay for them. I have a buddy from an old deployment who is working private security now, including for that concert. He owed me a favor so I just made a few calls.” He shifted slightly. “I hope that doesn’t lessen the gift.”

You threw your arms around his neck. “Are you kidding? Of course not! This is absolutely amazing. Thank you so much!”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome. I’m glad you like them.” He patted your back softly, clearly surprised by the hug. You pulled back to see his face had turned red underneath his mustache.

Releasing him and taking a step back, you said, “Man, now I just feel bad all I got Coyote was a dart board to set up in his dorm.” Looking down at your present again, you held up the passes. “Who is the second one for?”

Rooster shrugged. “Whoever you want. I figured you might have more fun if you have someone go with you.”

“Would… would you want to go? I mean, you did get them for me and pretty much everyone else I know around here will still be gone on leave. But if you don’t want to–”

“No. I’d love to go with you.”

You blinked in surprise. “Great! Um, yeah. We can figure out the details later but it’s a date!” You felt your cheeks grow hot. “I mean, not a ‘date, date’, just that we have set a date for us to do something. Together. I–I’ll stop talking now.”

“I got what you meant,” he said with a small smile.

You smiled back. Just then, Phoenix called to Rooster from the other side of the room. Glancing over, you said, “Looks like you’re needed. But thank you again. This really is the best Christmas present anyone has ever gotten me.” 

“You’re welcome. And Merry Christmas.”

Rooster started to walk away but as he passed you, you reached out and grabbed his arm. Then you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. His face grew bright red once more but he smiled brightly at you. Then you released his arm and he walked over to Phoenix.

The rest of the evening went great. Once the pizzas arrived, no one really seemed to mind the overabundance of cookies and eggnog. When Mav and Penny showed up later in the night, everyone yelled “Thanks for the pizza” as they walked in. The bewildered couple just smiled and nodded as they exchanged glances. Rooster explained later and everyone had a good laugh about it. 

Coyote loved his gift but told you not to tell Hangman about it. He wanted to practice in secret so he might finally be able to beat the other aviator. You promised and told him to let you know anytime he wanted someone to play against.

It was just before midnight when you saw your dad slip into the room. No one else seemed to have noticed Cyclone grab a drink and a few cookies before retreating to the back corner. Excusing yourself from your conversation with Bob and Phoenix, you walked over to him. 

“Hey. Glad you could make it.”

He nodded. “I was just about to leave for the night and figured I would stop by to make sure you all hadn’t destroyed the place.” 

“I would be mad you thought so poorly of us, but honestly, that doesn’t sound too unimaginable,” you laughed. Then you bumped your shoulder against his arm. “Thanks for arranging it so everyone gets to go home for Christmas. I know how much that means to all of them.”

He took a sip of his eggnog. “Yeah, well, they deserve it after what they accomplished this year.” Turning to look at you, he added, “Sorry you’re stuck here for leave. But I do appreciate you staying so we can spend the holidays together.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a big hug. “Of course! This is the first time we’ve both been stateside for Christmas in years. I wasn’t going to miss the chance to celebrate with you.”

He squeezed you back. “Thanks, kiddo. I’m just sorry that I still have to work for most of your leave. It seems like such a waste of your time off.”

You caught Rooster’s eye from across the room and he gave you a shy, but warm smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can find something to keep me occupied.”

Taglist:@loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @11thstreetvigilante, @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxnd, @airhogger, @notroosterbradshaw, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @yjwnoot, @wanderdreamer, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @fangirlinc, @sparrows-corner, @therebeccaw, @mads-weasley, @trencher4lyfe, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @imjess-themess, @callsign-phoenix, @maggie8002sq, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @tellrock35, @shanimallina87, @mak-32

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #shared holiday meal #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #miles teller #f!reader #simpson!reader #fluff

[tealquil]

“Reid. A word. NOW.” The familiar and gruff voice of the Leader of the Guard demanded the Ekon’s attention.

Jonathan did his best not to visibly react, even if those words always filled him with dread. What did Geoffrey feel he deserved now. Last time the Irishman started a conversation with him like this the Leader of the Guard informed Priwen’s ‘pet Leeech’ that he had under-performed one too many times during training sessions and as punishment he was to help train the new chaplains. The burns they had given him lasted almost a week last time. Considering his healing ability, a scar that lasted a week was something of a serious injury.

“Geoffrey… Sir, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit tonight.” He did his best to keep his tone even. It was later in the night than he would have usually gotten up. Somehow the Ekon had over slept and he would rather collect his blood ration before his shift started.

The Leader of the Guard folded his arms across his chest, the near permanent scowl on his face seeming to depend as he stated matter of factly “One of the Guard’s senior members overheard you talking with Liam last night. Apparently you were unhappy with your assignment?”

Fuck… he had noticed Christopher Mooney walk past when he was talking with Liam but he hoped Priwen’s third in command hadn’t overheard him . He knew that anything remotely negative that he said about Priwen was likely to get him reassigned to sewer duty or worse, having new chemical weapons tested on him. Doing his best to avoid angering the Irishman, Jonathan quickly thought of an explaination “Well… Yes but I was mostly being over dramatic because I was tired. If I had a problem I would tell you…”

“Oh really?” McCullum asked, raising an eyebrow. His tone showed that he didn’t quiet believe what the Ekon said, although for McCullum that wasn’t entirely unusual. He never seemed to believe anything Jonathan said, it always felt like the Irishman was testing him somehow, just waiting for him to slip up.

Jonathan nodded his head silently, not wanting to say anything that would get him in anymore trouble than he already was.

Geoffrey scoffed as he continued realising quickly that Jonathan was choosing to remain silent “Mooney told me that you were complaining about your assignment and how much you felt it put you in danger. As Leader of the Guard I need to know that all of my recruits feels safe.”

Reid wanted to laugh. Thankfully, he knew better than to laugh at someone who was always looking to stake him at a moments notice. Instead he shook his head, lying to protect himself as he replied “I believe that Mr Mooney must have misheard me.”

“Then I’ll ask Liam Davies what the two of you were talking about.” The Irishman challenge, he knew that Liam wouldn’t lie to him. He was too much of a kiss arse for that, even if he was one of the few friends that Reid had made within the Guard.

That made the Ekon falter, he opened his mouth, almost immediately asking Geoffrey not to ask Liam, but that would look suspicious. He closed his mouth and hung his head replying simply, hoping that he could call the other hunters bluff “Whatever you feel is necessary sir.”

McCullum slapped his hands down on the desk as he snapped “You’re holding out on me, Reid. I want the truth now.”

Once again, Jonathan debated lying to the Leader of the Guard… But that wasn’t a good idea considering the man could stake him if he suddenly deemed the vampire to be a threat “Fine… I was complaining about the mission… I came very close to having my throat torn out by a Vulkod… Sending me on these sorts of missions alone is dangerous… Even though I can heal most wounds and I’m faster than the human recruits I still have physical limits.”

This was the first time the that Leech had spoken openly, his expression showed that he was anxious about how what he said would be taken. But in all honesty Geoffrey would rather Jonathan be able to speak to him freely and challenge him should he feel the need “Then why didn’t you refuse the mission or ask for backup.”

Jonathan shook his head as he mumbled “You really don’t get it… do you…”

For a moment the Irishman was silent, raising a curious eyebrow.

As the Ekon’s frustration spiked he snapped at the other man “Everynight I wake up knowing that if I offend you I won’t live to see sunrise. Everynight I salute and agree to whatever you say because I know that if you see me as a threat you’ll end that threat as every member of the Guard is trained to do.” Red tears were welling behind Reid’s eyes and rolling down his cheeks as he continued to rant, suddenly unable to stop “I work every night, doing whatever you ask of me without question because if I don’t I could be labelled as a threat and hunted by my so called ‘colleauges’… The fact is Geoffrey, I know that I am a means to an end, as soon as we find and kill my sire I know I’m next for the stake.”

McCullum listened surprised. Was this really how the Ekon felt about his role with Priwen? How-… How aweful! To think that he was going to be killed every night if he made a mistake, everyone made mistakes, even Geoffrey himself. Had-… Had the Leader of the Guard not proved to Priwen’s pet leech that he trusted him yet?

Swallowing thickly the Leader of the Guard said “I’m not going to kill you because you voiced concerns about how dangerous a mission may be. Nor will I kill you for fucking something up. What I will kill you for if hunting humans, preying on our boys for blood and using your position within the Guard to harm humans… Reid.,..” he took in a slow deep breath through his nose before letting it out slowly “Reid… You’re one of us. I-… I’m sorry if I hadn’t made that clear to you already, you can say no, you can ask for back-up… Hell you can ask for a night off if you bloody well need it…”

Was-… Was this real? Geoffrey never lied to him, strangely, so this had to be true “I-… I don’t know what to say,” Jonathan could barely believe it. The Leader of the Guard trusted him, really?

“You’re not like the Leeches on the streets, Jonathan and you’re not like the bastard that murdered you. I’m not going to kill you for something you have no control over. Your sire attacked you, you’re a victim. When we find and end him you’ll still be free to continue working with us.” Geoffrey clarified.

#vampyr #vampyr game #jonathan reid #my art #pacifist!jonathan #geoffrey mccullum #mcreid #Priwen!AU

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Secret Santa

Winter Whumperland: Day 6. Shared Holiday Meal

Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, f!reader, Simpson!Reader

Summary: With everyone heading home for the holidays, the Daggers decide to throw a last-minute holiday party before they leave. And your secret Santa takes you by surprise.

Word Count: 1758

TW: Fluff

Notes: This idea started out as more of a group fic (hence the header) but slowly transformed into a Rooster fic as I wrote it.

It was a Christmas miracle that the entire Dagger Squad was somehow able to all get leave for the holidays. It was almost unheard of but no one wanted to ask any questions in case someone realized a mistake had been made. And so, tickets home to visit family had been purchased all around and everyone began to pack their bags to leave. 

Only two members of the squad were staying in town. Rooster had agreed to spend the holidays with Mav, Penny, and Amelia. It was the first time in over fifteen years he would be spending the holidays with his godfather and both men were secretly very excited about the idea. And you were staying near North Island to spend the holiday season with your father. As the Air Boss at Top Gun, it wasn’t surprising that Cyclone wasn’t able to get Christmas day off, yet he had managed to work it out so he would be able to be home early. It was more than you usually got with him so you were beyond thrilled.

And yet…. 

It was amazing how close all of you had become in the last few months. While most of you had known each other either personally or by reputation before the Dagger Mission, the bonds that formed between the members of your team were stronger than any of you had experienced in past assignments. Personally, you chalked it up to Mav’s training and focus on teamwork and support. But regardless of the reason, the Dagger Squad had become its own small family.

Which was what made the fact you were all going to be scattered across the country for the holidays so bittersweet. You were all going to be with one family but leaving another behind. Which was why everyone immediately got on board when Bob suggested a mini-Dagger Christmas the night before everyone left. 

It was decided they would hold a potluck dinner where everyone brought their favorite holiday treat. Payback organized a Secret Santa and had everyone draw names from his helmet when they were leaving training (Hangman had offered to do it, but no one trusted him not to put his name down on every slip of paper). Phoenix, Bob, and Fanboy took charge of the decorations while Coyote created the perfect holiday music playlist (yet another job everyone refused to let Hangman do). Rooster agreed to pick up the alcohol from the Hard Deck after you somehow managed to talk your dad into letting you hold the party in the rec room on base. For such little planning time, everything seemed like it came together flawlessly. 

That was until you arrived. The room looked amazing. Strings of lights, tinsel, and ornaments covered the walls while large paper snowflakes hung down from the ceiling. A table had been set up along the back wall for the food and drinks so you quickly headed back there to deposit your plate of cookies. 

But when you reached it, you stared at the items all laid out and sighed loudly. “Jake.”

Hangman crossed the room to where you were standing. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wasn’t your job to make sure everyone was bringing something different?”

“Uh, if I remember correctly, you just said to find out what everyone was bringing and make a list.” He grinned widely. “I think everyone made excellent choices.”

You groaned as you looked back at the table which was filled with nothing but eggnog and a variety of cookies. So much for dinner.

“The eggnog on that end of the table is already spiked.” He pointed towards the six bottles to the left. Then pointing to the only small bottle on the right, he added. “That one is plain.”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “Good to know. I’ll make sure to tell Bob.”

Hangman grabbed a gingerbread man from the plate at the center of the table. With a wink, he snapped off the head between his teeth and said, “And don’t forget to try one of these. They’re an old Seresin family secret recipe.” And then he walked off to where Coyote was hooking up the speakers.

You groaned again as you scrubbed your hand over your face. It really shouldn’t have surprised you that Hangman would do this and if you had to guess, he probably even encouraged others to bring one of the two items in front of you.

“It’s okay. I just ordered a dozen pizzas and they should be here in about an hour.”

You looked up in surprise to see Rooster suddenly standing next to you. “You didn’t have to do that. That must have cost you a fortune.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it. I put it on Mav’s card.” Rooster said.

Laughing, you said, “Remind me to thank him later.” Poking Rooster in the chest, you added. “Great sweater by the way. Very appropriate.”

Rooster looked down at the giant chicken wearing a Santa hat that was on his chest. “Thanks. I saw it and couldn’t resist.” 

The two of you stood in silence for a minute, each munching on a cookie. But just as you finished yours and was about to excuse yourself, Rooster pulled an envelope out of his back pocket and offered it to you. “I’m not sure how we are doing this, but this is for you. I’m your secret Santa.”

“Oh!” you said in surprise. “Thank you.”

Taking the envelope, you tore it open and peered inside. Your jaw dropped as you looked back up at him. “Are these…”

Rooster smiled as he nodded. “I know you were talking about how bummed you were that the concert sold out before you could get tickets. Merry Christmas.”

Still in shock, you removed the two plastic cards and the attached lanyards. “Rooster, these aren’t just tickets. These are backstage passes. Don’t tell me you put these on Mav’s credit card too?”

“No, then it wouldn’t have been a gift from me.”

“You realize we had a $20 gift limit. This is so, so much more than that!” 

He shook his head. “Technically, I didn’t pay for them. I have a buddy from an old deployment who is working private security now, including for that concert. He owed me a favor so I just made a few calls.” He shifted slightly. “I hope that doesn’t lessen the gift.”

You threw your arms around his neck. “Are you kidding? Of course not! This is absolutely amazing. Thank you so much!”

“Oh, um, you’re welcome. I’m glad you like them.” He patted your back softly, clearly surprised by the hug. You pulled back to see his face had turned red underneath his mustache.

Releasing him and taking a step back, you said, “Man, now I just feel bad all I got Coyote was a dart board to set up in his dorm.” Looking down at your present again, you held up the passes. “Who is the second one for?”

Rooster shrugged. “Whoever you want. I figured you might have more fun if you have someone go with you.”

“Would… would you want to go? I mean, you did get them for me and pretty much everyone else I know around here will still be gone on leave. But if you don’t want to–”

“No. I’d love to go with you.”

You blinked in surprise. “Great! Um, yeah. We can figure out the details later but it’s a date!” You felt your cheeks grow hot. “I mean, not a ‘date, date’, just that we have set a date for us to do something. Together. I–I’ll stop talking now.”

“I got what you meant,” he said with a small smile.

You smiled back. Just then, Phoenix called to Rooster from the other side of the room. Glancing over, you said, “Looks like you’re needed. But thank you again. This really is the best Christmas present anyone has ever gotten me.” 

“You’re welcome. And Merry Christmas.”

Rooster started to walk away but as he passed you, you reached out and grabbed his arm. Then you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. His face grew bright red once more but he smiled brightly at you. Then you released his arm and he walked over to Phoenix.

The rest of the evening went great. Once the pizzas arrived, no one really seemed to mind the overabundance of cookies and eggnog. When Mav and Penny showed up later in the night, everyone yelled “Thanks for the pizza” as they walked in. The bewildered couple just smiled and nodded as they exchanged glances. Rooster explained later and everyone had a good laugh about it. 

Coyote loved his gift but told you not to tell Hangman about it. He wanted to practice in secret so he might finally be able to beat the other aviator. You promised and told him to let you know anytime he wanted someone to play against.

It was just before midnight when you saw your dad slip into the room. No one else seemed to have noticed Cyclone grab a drink and a few cookies before retreating to the back corner. Excusing yourself from your conversation with Bob and Phoenix, you walked over to him. 

“Hey. Glad you could make it.”

He nodded. “I was just about to leave for the night and figured I would stop by to make sure you all hadn’t destroyed the place.” 

“I would be mad you thought so poorly of us, but honestly, that doesn’t sound too unimaginable,” you laughed. Then you bumped your shoulder against his arm. “Thanks for arranging it so everyone gets to go home for Christmas. I know how much that means to all of them.”

He took a sip of his eggnog. “Yeah, well, they deserve it after what they accomplished this year.” Turning to look at you, he added, “Sorry you’re stuck here for leave. But I do appreciate you staying so we can spend the holidays together.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a big hug. “Of course! This is the first time we’ve both been stateside for Christmas in years. I wasn’t going to miss the chance to celebrate with you.”

He squeezed you back. “Thanks, kiddo. I’m just sorry that I still have to work for most of your leave. It seems like such a waste of your time off.”

You caught Rooster’s eye from across the room and he gave you a shy, but warm smile. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I can find something to keep me occupied.”

Taglist:@valoraxxx-blog, @m3laniehearts, @autumnleaves1991-blog, @rule107, @vintageleather, @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak, @sugarcoated-lame, @slutforadambanks, @americaarse, @reneki, @ynbutbetter, @imagineadream, @sadpetalsstuff, @salty-thembo, @rachelizabethgraham, @duckandrobin, @queenbbarnes, @grincheveryday, @uselesslyromantic, @chouricojr, @king-of-milf-lovers, @high-fidelities, @shaded-echoes-recs, @dempy, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @uselesslyromantic, @choochoo284, @littlebadariell, @blue-aconite, @thescarletknight2014

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #shared holiday meal #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #miles teller #f!reader #simpson!reader #fluff

[platonic-qpr-selfshipping]

hi!! could I please have familial headcanons (separately) for dimitri and Edelgard from fe3h with a slightly older sibling? thank you so much in advance btw I’m dying for some familal stuff- ~sunlight-ships

thank you so much for your request!! we gotta love some house leaders familial content

Edelgard and Dimitri as your slightly younger siblings

¡! spoilers for Edelgard's past in the first headcanon and Dimitri's in the last (family stuff), set in canon, headcanons cover both pre-timeskip and after-timeskip

Edelgard

You're like a light of hope to her. After loosing so many of her siblings, being able to still have you there and rely on you is something she values more than you think.

However, this appreciation for her only sibling shows in some different ways. On the one hand, she feels responsible to make sure history does not repeat itself and that you can live a long and healthy life making your own choices. Maybe you don't even want to stay in the castle— she'll understand and let you go as long as you accept to keep in touch with her by exchanging letters.

On the other hand, you're also her weak point. You're her older sibling after all, and she can't let go of the feeling that you can somehow protect her from the world no matter what she does or happens. The mere idea of it is comforting to her, even if she knows it's kind of unrealistic to think about and might embarrass her a bit.

If you're also in Garreg Mach during her academic years, she would love to meet you in breakfasts and talk about your plans for the day as a way to motivate each other. Just please, don't tell her classmates many anecdotes of when she was little... We all know Ferdinand and you can have some lively conversations on the topic, but sharing two or three memories is more than enough for her, really.

In case you're far away from each other, letters are a must. She writes to you quite frequently, sometimes on a whim after having a nightmare and needing to let her thoughts out, but more often as a way to keep you updated with her life. She'll smile if you send her some words of encouragement and praise because of her role in the recent missions at the monastery.

Does not tend to talk about you to others, but if someone asks about you they'll find an unusual happiness in her eyes as she speaks. You're her family, her rock that has always been there when she needed it, so her words about you are always filled with care.

During times of war, her letters could get less frequent. If the worry made you travel to her side, she would take it as a sign that she's got the support to make things work out. Might tear up after not seeing you for long. Probably will, go hug give her a hug.

She got the habit of getting into your room at night when she was younger. The castle felt dangerous and it was not like you knew much more than her about what was going on, but at least you had each other. That's something you two have always been sure of.

Will still surprise you in your room at night from time to time. Sometimes to talk to you about that book you recommended her, other times to wish you a happy birthday with a drawing of you she had been working on for days.

Dimitri

When you were younger, it wasn't unusual to share bed with him in the coldest days of Faerghus' winter. He would enjoy listening to your stories of training or just your days in the castle as someone who is a bit older than him, and this sometimes made him end up falling asleep in your own room too.

And even if this doesn't go on when you are older, he still finds your words and stories to be very calming and reassuring. Therefore he often thinks about talking with you when a problem or worry arises, even if he doesn't expect advice all the time.

Will refer to you as "sibling" when talking about you, no matter with whom. His words and tone make others easily see you two are in very good terms with each other, although he gets embarrassed when it slips out of his tongue with officials from the army or other nobles he isn't close to.

Likes to train with you and learn from each other. You end up having anecdotes of how many of your trainings have ended in broken weapons you had to turn in because of your brother's strength.

That can also be... a bit of a problem in the kitchen. Not that you really mind, you will love your brother just as he is, but he sure feels hesitant to help when he starts to realise his clumsy mistakes. Everyone agreed to let you on kitchen duty together one day out of curiosity and perhaps that was the kitchen's most chaotic day.

During the timeskip, Dimitri tried to isolate himself. He didn't feel like he deserved to still have you by his side, to possibly drag you into all of that too. You were aware of the situation when his friends came to you for help.

It was a long process, but blood connects you two and you stay hopeful for your brother. He will always remember how you did not leave him even at his darkest moments, and will be willing to do the same for you no matter how far away life puts you from each other.

You know how some families name their first child after their father or things like that? Dimitri would consider doing so, but naming one of his children after you because you are all the family he has. At first, you thought he was joking so you laughed it off, but his confused expression confirmed you otherwise.

#sibling f/o #f/o community #self ship community #f/o headcanons #edelgard von hresvelg #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd

[geddy-leesbian]

(screenshot because I accidentally hit post while trying to copy paste something and had to delete it oops)

GOD THE LEON ONE IS SO FUCKED UP CHSBSNALFLF

first off, the timeline is different than the actual game. Luis is able to get some suppressant for Leon before any shit gets burned.

Luis gets captured again, and taken to Saddler. He had injected all the suppressants he had with him just before getting carried off, so Saddler couldn't re-infect him. But it turns out that isn't even Saddler's plan.

“That Agent Kennedy is proving to be quite a thorn in my side, much like you. I need him to live long enough for him to appreciate his gift and go home to spread it to the rest of the world, but he's starting to cause too much trouble. You like him, don't you?” “This isn't about him. Say whatever you want about me, but keep his name out of your mouth.” “But you'll want to hear this. He's quite fond of you. He doesn't want to admit it, but I've been in his head. He likes it when you tease him. He trusts you. You could send him on wild goose chases over and over, and he'd keep following you until time ran out.” “No. Never.” “It doesn't have to just be wild goose chases. Doesn't he owe you a dance? If you were to tell him that he had more time than expected, that he needed a break to relax before moving on, he would listen.” “You really think that I'm that selfish? That I'm willing to trade his life for mine? That I'm willing to trade his life for a dance?”

“Do you really think that you're not? You already chose your life over his. He doesn't have any suppressant. You used all of it on yourself, just so that you couldn't be re-infected. If you were willing to die for him, that was the time. Had you left all of it behind and accepted your own fate, he would have enough time to escape with his life and mind intact.”

Then he gets handed over to Krauser, who is pissy and a lot less concerned about Leon staying alive. So he gives him an ear piece, puts a tracker on him, chains him up again somewhere and says that he can either call Leon to come rescue him and Leon won't get hurt, or Krauser will abandon Saddler's plan and use Luis as the bait in a trap for Leon. (And ofc beyond that point he says he'll kill Leon if Luis isn't cooperating with the plan, and brags about being the one who taught Leon everything to the extent that Luis is actually worried.)

Luis just plays along, thinking that he'll be able to outsmart Krauser and somehow get Leon to the machine. Then Krauser sends him some pictures: His machine completely smashed, as well as everything being set on fire. It's 100% impossible to save Leon, and he breaks down sobbing and admits everything.

Leon's already made peace with the fact that it was a matter of when, not if, he'll die on a mission, so he's pretty chill about the whole thing and just asks Luis to kill him before his infection gets too bad 🙃

-

DON'T WALK AWAY is angsty but not that fucked up. it all started one night when I was listening to one of my many Serrennedy playlists, and forgot to loop it so after the last song spotify decides to autoplay Don't Walk Away. a song that I had never had any strong feelings about. but then I realized I'm a Fool because it is so Serrennedy and I've been sleeping on it

I know just what you're doing. You don't want to put the hurt on someone. You've been trying to convince yourself you're better off if you just turn and run.

But I'm gonna hold on tight. I've got a feeling you'll only happen once to me. And no one, not even you, is ever gonna make you wrong for me.

Don't walk away! Or are you looking for a price to pay? Is that your master plan? Don't walk away! I'll do everything to make you stay. I've got to make a stand. Don't walk away! I'm not afraid. Don't walk away!

so yeah the fic is just right after RE4 when Leon and Ashley are waiting to get picked up, and Luis is trying to slip away because he thinks he's a shitty person who doesn't deserve Leon, and Leon's like fuck that you're coming with me

#literally all i do is sit around listening to music and thinking 'this reminds me of luis serra'

[peninkwrites]

Karl and Quackity (don't) Date - Ch 10 of ?

Quackity struggles with complex family relationships and finds out about Karl's own mob beast––I mean boss.

[CW: extortion, abuse, threats of violence, Schlatt]

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 9

Ch 11

Mafia AU

~

The following morning Quackity calls in and says he’ll be late to work, he dares them to make a fuss about it, he’s been working overtime perpetually for the past two months.  He’d kept it together for the rest of that night, Schlatt had gotten drunk enough he let Quackity drive them back to the house, he made it up the stairs, almost crushing Quackity from leaning on him so much, and then passed out in his suit.  Quackity had an easy time leaving the following morning, knowing Schlatt would sleep until mid afternoon at least.  He’d taken another one of Schlatt’s cars, they’re not in short supply, and maybe once he gets back to his own he’ll ask one of Schlatt’s dogs to bring the other one back for him.  He’d called work from a payphone, paranoid that somehow Schlatt would have woken up and picked up the line and heard him planning to skip work.  Then he’d gone straight to Karl’s; he’s jamming the buzzer to apartment a little after nine.

“Huh?” Karl says drowsily.

“Hey!  Uh, it’s me.  It’s Quackity.”

“Oh, hi.  You can come up!”

Quackity heads up the narrow steps to Karl’s place with a hint of urgency.  He knows what he’s here to do, but he hasn’t put much thought into how he’s actually going to ask.  He doesn’t have the money for it, not to run for it safely, but at this point he doesn’t care.

“Hey,” Karl’s hair is sticking up wildly, his eyes still bleary with sleep widen at the sight of him on a mission.  “Are you– Are you okay?” He steps out of the way so Quackity can plow ahead into his place.  “Is this about last night?  I’m– I’m all good, Q, I just hid–”

“No, no that’s not the point,” Quackity starts out harsher than he’d originally intended.  Karl falls silent, staring at him, uneasy.  “Fuck, sorry, I just–” Quackity stops himself and takes a deep breath.  “That was too close, okay?  Last night, that was fucking dangerous.”

“I’m… sorry?” Karl tries uncertainly for what he thinks might be what Quackity is looking for.

“No, no you don’t have shit to be sorry for, Karl, it’s not– It’s not you,” Quackity huffs irritably.  “I mean, I should’ve known better, I was supposed to see Schlatt at eight, it’s not that weird for him to turn up at the office at 7, so I should’ve told you you shouldn’t come that night, alright?  But it’s not even just me, because this was bound to happen eventually.  Somewhere, somehow, someone was gonna slip up, and one of these days it’s gonna get you––or me, or both of us––killed.  Okay?”

Karl falters.  “Are you… do you want to break up?” Karl’s voice softens to something weak and vulnerable.

“No!  Jesus Christ, no way in hell!  I was– I want to disappear with you.  Okay?  I mean–” Quackity winces, “that sounded ominous, I meant it in a more romantic let’s run away together, sense, alright?”

“You–” Karl blinks.  He’s been awake for five minutes.  “...What?”

“I…” Quackity swallows thickly.  He doesn’t know why he expected this to not be fucking terrifying.  “I know it’s not safe for us to be together here, a-and I’ve got a little money saved up, maybe… maybe enough for the three of us to get out, y’know?”

“Three of us?” Karl frowns.

“Oh, uh, Tubbo is coming too.  Like, that’s non-negotiable.  I’m not fucking leaving him here, so.”

“Oh, right, yeah,” Karl nods.  “Sorry– for a sec I thought you might have another boyfriend tucked away somewhere,” he smiles teasingly.

“Nah, and don’t worry, I’m not inviting Schlatt,” Quackity laughs dryly like his heart isn't beating very fast.

“Well…” Karl is clearly thinking hard.  “I mean, have you asked Tubbo yet?”

“Huh?  Uh, no.  I… I came here first.  I dunno… I dunno when it’ll be safe for me to ask Tubbo something like that.  I might have to wait until we’re in the Secret City or something,” Quackity folds his arms over his chest, nervous and defensive.  “Look, if you don’t wanna do it, that’s fine––reasonable, even––just…” Quackity clears his throat to stop it from tremoring.  “Just let me know now, ‘cause otherwise, I dunno.” Quackity doesn’t really have a plan for if Karl says no.  He has one for if Tubbo does, but those are very different circumstances.  “I don’t know,” he says again.

“Um, I think…” Karl speaks slowly, thoughtfully.  “I think that if you can get Tubbo to go, you should do it.”

“I should…” Quackity trails off.  He feels like he just got kicked in the chest, a feeling he is not unfamiliar with.  “I should go.  Me and Tubbo.”

“Um, yeah,” Karl smiles shakily.  “It’s not– Wait, to be clear I want to go with you, I just… I can’t.”

Quackity stares at him, uncomprehending.  He looks around the dingy studio apartment, mildly baffled.  “What’ve you got tying you down?” He laughs a little frantically.

“Um…” Karl doesn’t laugh, he stares at the ceiling.  “...debt?”

“Debt?   Karl, you– That won’t matter, okay?  One of the things we might do, if I can swing it, I get the Badlands to help us disappear, I meant that part.  New identities, new city, none of this old shit holding us down, none of it.”

“That’s… that’s cool.  That’s a good idea,” Karl sounds a little strained.  “Um, but they… they know where my mom lives, so.  She’s a few states over, but that’s not… that doesn’t mean much.  She's still not safe.  And I can’t… I can’t tell her she has to move or… or change her identity or something, like, she doesn’t know about any of this.  Like, she thinks I work at a bookstore,” he laughs, helpless, maybe even guilty.

“They… they know where your– Wait, wait wait, hold on a sec– Who… who the fuck are you in debt to, Karl?  ‘Cause that doesn’t sound like a fucking bank.” Quackity isn’t judging Karl by any means, but he’s definitely reevaluating what he knows about him.

“Um,” Karl bounces back on his heels, almost embarrassed.  “You ever heard of Mr. Beast?  He’s not… he’s not really from here, he’s sorta… moved in on the city a bit.  Mostly some money stuff on the West side, but… he’s kinda bad news,” Karl offers the understatement of the year.

“Yeah, yeah I’ve fucking heard of him, Karl.  Philanthropist mob boss with a god complex, sets crazy fucking ultimatums on poor people for money, and if they fuck up…” Quackity stares at Karl more intently.  “They owe him.  Usually more than normal people can pay.”

“Yeah, that’s the guy,” Karl laughs sharply, continuing on far too blasé considering.  “And that’s my whole deal right now!  Has been for like, two years.”  He falls back onto his bed with a muffled thud and the creak of old springs.

Quackity stares at him blankly, every puzzle piece finally falling into place.  “...fuck.”

“Yeah.  That about sums it up, huh?”

This is a rare occasion where Quackity is rendered silent.

Karl fidgets, nervous and kicking his feet, before rambling on.  “So, that’s why I’m not running away with you, it’s not because of you, or Tubbo or anything, I just can’t because if I disappear they’ll… they’ll kill my mom, probably.  And I’ve been trying to pay it off, and I’ve… I’ve made some decent headway, I’ve got it under a thousand now, but it’s been kinda stuck around there for ages because he keeps on, like, tacking on interest and stuff, which I think is probably the whole scheme.  I give him a cut of whatever I make selling watches to pay it off, and it’s set up so I never do, so,” he shrugs.  “That’s… that’s why I can’t come with you.”  He pauses, as if expecting Quackity to speak.  “And like, I don’t even talk to my mom much.  We call sometimes, and we’re not like, super close, but I definitely don’t want her to die, so.”

Quackity nods, sitting back on Karl’s bed, running circles in his brain for a way out of this.  He doesn’t have the money to pay off Schlatt, he has enough to maybe pay off Karl’s debts depending on how much under a thousand it is, but that would leave them with nothing, and therefore no way out.

Karl sits up beside him.  “So, when you’ve always been like, you’re trapped here, trapped with Schlatt, that’s… that’s never been a problem for me, ‘cause I’m in a… not the same, but a sorta similar boat,” Karl exhales air from his cheeks, kicking his feet, restless with Quackity not responding yet.  “Could you… I dunno, say something?  Anything, right now?”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Quackity says, still lost in thought.  “I wanna help you, Karl.  I… I don’t know how I’m gonna do that yet.”

“Oh,” Karl is more than a little startled.  He hadn’t said this to present Quackity with a problem to fix, he doubts this is something Quackity can do anything about, but he appreciates the sentiment.  “Um, thanks.”  He thinks it over.  “So… you’re not gonna… take Tubbo and run?”

“What?” Quackity looks as if he’d forgotten that was an option.  “No, fuck no, if you want to come with, we’re not going until you can.”

Karl looks a little smitten, leaning closer and resting his chin on Quackity’s shoulder, their lips inches apart.  He poorly buries a flustered, red-cheeked grin.  “Cool.”

Quackity would love to fall prey to romantics, but his thoughts are still racing.  “And, I mean, I still gotta convince Tubbo, no clue what he might say, and if he says no, well, like I said, Tubbo coming is non-negotiable.”

Karl sits up straight, sobering.  “What, are you gonna like, kidnap the little dude?”

Quackity looks offended by the thought.  “No!  No fucking way in hell, Tubbo would never forgive me, and he’d be right to, if Tubbo says no, then–” Quackity stops himself.  This is a thought he’s kept buried, one that he had no one to voice aloud to.  It’s a dangerous thing, Quackity almost fears that speaking it will some how manifest something worse coming down on all of them, but Karl had asked.  Quackity finally has someone to share it with, however much it scares him.  “Then I kill Schlatt,” Quackity says quietly.  “If we have a shot to get out, I’m not fucking giving up just ‘cause Tubbo doesn’t wanna leave.  I kill him, and we don’t have to go anywhere.  Tubbo stays here, and so do we.”

“Oh,” Karl’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t protest.  “That’s… that’s a lot to put on yourself, Q.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a last resort type deal, so,” Quackity shrugs.  “Considering the fucking fallout, his boys will be causing problems left and right.  Hate him as I do, at least Schlatt keeps those fucking idiots on a leash.”

“Um, but… what about…” Karl trails off.

“What?”

“What if, like,” Karl still hesitates, nervous.  “What if Tubbo doesn’t want you to?  To kill him.”

“Oh.”  Quackity, somehow, hadn’t thought of that.  “I… I didn’t think about it.  I guess I wasn’t planning on… on asking him?”

Karl gives him an exasperated look.  “You were… you were gonna ask this kid to run away, leave everyone he knows, change his name, and if he said no, you were gonna go behind his back and kill his dad?”

Quackity stares at him, for the moment silenced.  “Well, when you put it like that…” Quackity hadn’t forgotten that Schlatt was Tubbo’s dad, but Quackity hadn’t really seen that as anything more than something keeping Tubbo trapped.  Quackity doesn’t really have much experience with parents and such, and somehow he assumed Tubbo’s experience reflected that, guardianship nothing but a piece of paper that lets someone order you around, but it’s clear from how Karl says this, he’s asking about Tubbo’s dad, as in family; something Quackity had never considered.  He can’t pretend he doesn’t understand loving someone who is bad for you, Schlatt being case and point, but Quackity is lucky enough to have someone else who loves him too, enough that leaving feels like an option.  He has no idea what that might look like on Tubbo’s side of things.

Quackity is stumped, a fresh anxiety joining the rest.  “I don’t know.”

“I mean, I guess you don’t have to know now.  We have a lot to… to do first, right?  And then you’ll ask him, so until then you don’t have to think about what killing his dad might do, y’know?”  Karl says helpfully.

“Right, yeah, great!” Quackity says sarcastically.  “It’s all– It’s all simple now, it’s all just no fucking problem!”  Quackity sighs.  “I mean, it wasn’t gonna be easy either way, but…” Quackity shrugs.  “Tubbo will want to come with us.  I know that kid, he doesn’t give a shit about his dad.”

“Okay,” Karl concedes.

“And you’re right, I’ve got plenty to sort out first, like…” Quackity feels weighted.  “Like getting you out of debt.”

“Quackity, that’s not for you to deal with–”

“Well, I’m not fucking leaving without you, so it might as well be, got it?  It’s not up for debate.”  Quackity doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, for it to sound like he’s giving Karl an order, to talk to him as Schlatt does.  “Sorry, I’m sorry, Karl.  I wasn’t trying to… I’m sorry.”

“No, no you’re good, it’s fine,” Karl is quick to reassure him.  “I just…” Karl trails off, looking at him with those big, earnest eyes of his.

“What?” Quackity knows his cheeks are turning pink.

Karl smiles, one hand covered by his sleeve going over his mouth as if to hide it.  “I dunno.  No one’s… no one’s offered to… to look out for me, like this at least, in… in a long time.  Like, you’re worried about me.  And I don’t want you to worry, but you are, so, it’s sweet.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna stop worrying about you any time soon,” Quackity sighs.  “Like, seriously, how the hell do you afford to live?  I worried about you being broke before I found out you’re paying off a fucking mob boss.”

“Well, it’s… it’s inconsistent, but I come by my watches super cheap, and on a good day I can sell one for a hundred bucks, and if I get lucky enough to do that like, once or twice a week–”

“Okay, fair, that’s enough to live on.  Fuck, you’re lucky you’re cute, it’s no wonder you’re managing to sell watches on the regular,” Quackity shakes his head.

Karl grins, “yeah, well, you’d be surprised how gullible tourists are.  It is kinda like gambling all the time, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Quackity says teasingly.  “Why don’t you work at a bookstore, like your mom thinks?”

Karl shrugs.  “I’ve already got one boss breathing down my neck, I don’t really want another.  And… actually, this is a situation where my payouts being inconsistent but big is a good kinda thing.  I throw fifty bucks at my debt randomly, like no due dates every month or anything, and they leave me alone for a while.”

“Boss breathing down your neck,” Quackity laughs dryly.  “Yeah, I think I know what you mean.”  He sighs.  “I’m supposed to be at work.  I gotta go.”

“Yeah– Hey, yeah!  Wait, it’s like, ten am on a Tuesday, what’re you doing here?” Karl only now looks surprised.

“Um, checking on you after last night, asking you to run away with me, and so on?” Quackity says, amused.

“Oh.  Right,” Karl nods.  “Wait, before you go, then, about last night– Are you okay?”

Quackity had stood and moved toward the door, but he stops as Karl asks, looking at him, smiling in a way Karl recognizes to not quite be natural.  “I’m fine, Karl.  Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Karl knows Quackity doesn’t want to talk about it, but he can’t stop thinking about it.  “Has he… has he ever like, done that before?”

“What, come to my fucking job?  No, Karl, otherwise I wouldn’t have had you come there, ever.  Which, is another thing,” he sighs.  “We can’t have dinner together like that anymore.  Or lunch.  None of it.  If he’s shown up there once, there’s every chance he’ll do it again.”

“Right, yeah, that’s okay,” Karl nods quickly.  When he’d asked that, he’d been thinking of something else, other aspects of what he’d overheard the night before.  He doesn’t want to say it, and knowing Quackity wouldn’t appreciate it if he did, he keeps quiet.

“Fuck, Karl, I’m sorry about that mess.  I– I knew I was supposed to get drinks with him that night and I even thought it, I had the fucking thought I should tell you no that time, but I fucking didn’t.  I was weak and stupid and I wanted to see you, and I put you at risk–”

“Oh my god, Q, can you like, breathe?” Karl raises his hands as if to placate him.  “How would you have known that was gonna happen?  I’ll tell you, you couldn’t have.  So, don’t try and say sorry about it.”

“Fuck, you’re too good to me,” Quackity knows he has to leave, but first he presses his forehead against Karl’s chest, closing his eyes and taking a moment to pause.

Karl wraps him in a hug, murmuring “I wish you’d stop saying stuff like that.  I think you’re exactly good enough for me.”

Quackity laughs softly.  “No more, no less?”

“Uh huh, you got it,” Karl teases back.  “I’ll see you… not later at work or anything, I guess, but I’ll see you?”

“Yeah,” Quackity gives him one last kiss before leaving for work.

~

Quackity hasn’t been neglecting Tubbo, that would imply some obligation, but he feels bad that they haven’t hung out in a while.  They only spend time together by chance, and it’s like the moment there’s that lull Quackity realizes how little company Tubbo keeps.

“Hey, how’ve you been, man?” Quackity follows him down the hall to the kitchen.

Tubbo seems startled.  “Fine?  Are you alright?  Shouldn’t you be…” he scans the hall behind Quackity, looking for a threat.

“No, no he’s meeting with some people.  I wasn’t invited.  Can’t leave, though, because we have dinner plans,” Quackity rolls his eyes.

Tubbo nods and keeps walking.

“I know I haven’t been to the Secret City in a while,” Quackity keeps talking.  “Have you… uh, have you been hanging out with your buddy Tommy at all?”

“Oh, yeah!” Tubbo is more agreeable to this subject matter.  “I slept over at Ranboo’s the other night––with Tommy too––and it was a lot of fun.  We helped him and Niki close and stayed up probably too late, but it was cool.  Niki got us pizza for dinner and stuff.”

“Oh!  That’s cool,” Quackity hesitates.  He knows the answer, but he asks anyway.  “Did anyone know where you’d gone that night?”

Tubbo gives him a puzzled look, pausing and leaning against the kitchen counter.  “Tommy, Ranboo, and Niki did?  I guess?  What d’you mean?”  He laughs.  “You worried there are people after me or something?”

Quackity laughs too, far less genuinely.  “No, no nothing like that.  It was… it doesn’t matter.”

“No, go on.”

Quackity sighs.  “I had a stupid thought that you should have someone checking up on you, but the only person whose job that is… y’know, Schlatt, and honestly it’s better he doesn’t give a shit.”

“Ah, well, to be fair, parents are sort of supposed to know where their kids are, but I don’t know if I’d exactly call Schlatt a parent most of the time,” Tubbo is still lighthearted.  Quackity it seems is committed to changing that.

Quackity usually has a better filter, but the question escapes, impulsive and jarring.  “Do you care about him?”

“What?” Tubbo looks startled.  “Care about who?”

“Schlatt.”

“Not sure I understand?  Care about him?  Like, he’s my father, but he’s not a good man, now, is he?  Surely that covers it?” Tubbo sounds perfectly honest, but it’s clear he’s being avoidant.

“Like…” Quackity knows he’s getting closer to crossing a line, these are not words for this house, but he has to ask.  “If you had the chance, if you could kill him, would you?”

Tubbo’s confusion turns sharply to something more like horror, but he pauses, and instead he just looks tired.  His voice comes out calm, if not soft and weary.  “I don’t want to kill anyone.  How’s that any different from what he does?”

Quackity shrugs.  There’s a long pause, but Tubbo doesn’t break it, he just waits, so Quackity obliges.  “It’s nothing.  Sorry if I freaked you out, just… was curious, I guess.”

“But you see what I mean, don’t you?  It’s not for him, to be clear.  I don’t want to kill anyone.”  He’s so earnest, so aware that this is not a conversation of hypotheticals.  In this house murder could so easily become the expectation.  "It's not him.  I'm not gonna end up a murderer.  I don't want to end up like that, y'know?"  Tubbo almost looks apologetic, and Quackity wonders if he's thinking of that night two years ago where Tubbo had sat there and watched as Quackity had shot a man in the head because Schlatt wouldn't step in to save him.

Quackity doesn’t really know how to reassure him, but he tries anyway.  “I know, Tubbo.  You won’t have to.  Not if I have anything to say about it.”

~

Quackity has a fantastic epiphany while zoning out on a date with Schlatt.  He’s staring at that man’s face, his harsh voice going in one ear out the other, thinking about Karl’s own mob boss.  They’re similar in more than a few ways, but one of the few perks Quackity has from his is he gets to whisper in his ear, exert an ounce of control, if he’s lucky.  Quackity is lucky on occasion, when he has to be usually, but he is undeniably clever.

Jackpot.

They destroy each other.

Quackity gets through the rest of that night, agitated and almost giddy, Schlatt noticing only enough to tell him to “ stop spazzing out” but not much else.  Quackity has to check with Karl first, but he knows he’s a fucking genius.

He knows Karl might be asleep, he’s driving back from Schlatt’s pretty late, but he doesn’t want to wait any longer, so once more he’s ringing the buzzer outside Karl’s apartment.

“Yello?” Karl answers soon, because of course he’s still awake.

“It’s Quackity!  I have got one hell of an idea, can I come up?”

It’s a little after midnight and Quackity is sitting on the edge of Karl’s bed watching him pace, feeling smug.  Karl is trying to think of a risk Quackity hasn’t considered, anything to make this more dangerous or not worth it.

“How d’you know Schlatt will want to do it, though?  Like, if he was interested in killing mob bosses, why’re the Badlands still in operations?” Karl asks.

“Badlands are too big, too elusive.  If Schlatt can’t see the scope of the threat, he won’t risk it.  And there’s a tentative understanding there.  Mr. Beast is new and isn’t afraid to step on Schlatt’s toes.  Most of the shit I know about him is from Schlatt complaining.”

“Won’t he get suspicious about why you’re telling him about Mr. Beast?” Karl asks.

“Nah, I’m gonna say it’s an apology for working with Captain Puffy and not talking to him about it first, something like that.  He thinks everyone around him is only there to please him, this is par for the course,” Quackity shrugs.  “But Karl, you gotta clarify for me, you do know where Mr. Beast operates, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m like pretty sure?  It’s where I’m told to go and it’s a pretty big place, so I assumed it’s the… center of operations?” Karl’s voice comes out a little more mumbled as he’s chewing absentmindedly on his sweatshirt drawstrings.  “Okay, but… but what if Mr. Beast kills Schlatt instead?”

“Still works out for us!  If Schlatt dies, all my money can go into paying off your debts because I won’t need to disappear to where Schlatt can’t follow, see?” Quackity grins.  “It’s perfect!  If one of us gets out of this mess, we figure out getting the other one out, right?”

“Yeah.  Oh my god, Q, I should’ve talked to you about this stuff sooner, you’re a genius,” Karl tackles him into a hug, Quackity laughs and hugs him back.

“Yeah, I know I am,” Quackity sighs blissfully.  He’s used to surviving problems, not fixing them.  It’s almost hard to grasp the thought that there’s still a way out for them.

~

Quackity is doing his best not to overthink things.  He leaves work the following day and goes right to Schlatt’s place.  He’s confident, but there’s still some nagging voice in the back of his head that he’s overestimating what little power he has, that Schlatt will just brush him off, say that this Mr. Beast guy isn’t worth the trouble.  Quackity has no idea what he’ll do then.

Actually, that’s not quite true.  If that happens, he pays off Karl’s debts and spends the next few years trying to save up enough money to try again.  He’d rather avoid that.  Quackity returns to the house, asking the lackey standing guard where Schlatt is, before approaching his office.  The door opens just before he can knock, a somewhat cocky man with light hair quick to leave.  Schlatt follows him to the doorway, watching him go and smirking, before turning to Quackity.

“What’re you staring at?”

“Who was that?”

“Ah, Connor,” Schlatt says dismissively.  “He’s nobody right now.  Some second rate local politician with big ambitions, but he’s my ears in city hall nowadays, so, worth keeping around,” Schlatt shrugs.  “What’re you doing over here, pumpkin?” Schlatt puts his arm around him, pulling him in close and kissing him messily before he can reply.

“I, uh–” Quackity tries to refocus when Schlatt finally steps back.  He resists the urge to wipe off his mouth.  “I found out something I think you might find interesting today,” he hopes his desperation reads as excitement.  He’s a bit thrown off by this other man Schlatt just met with, but he has his task.

“Oh?  Is it interesting the same way you sneaking around schmoozing with the pigs is interesting?  Because that’s what the bar is at since last time you told me about your job bullshit.”

Quackity pauses, bottling irritation or any defense he wants to offer.  “Actually, Schlatt, this is more my… apology for that whole misunderstanding.” Quackity takes Schlatt’s hand, leaning in closer.

Schlatt looks no less suspicious, eyeing him up.  “Oh yeah? What kind of interesting is that, then?”

“I was at the station today getting some files, ended up talking to a guy who works for Mr. Beast.”

Schlatt scoffs, “okay, and?  Is your apology you killed him?  Because that’s fucking worthless.”

“No, not at all.  I cut a deal with him, and he told me where the guy operates!” Quackity waits for Schlatt to match his enthusiasm.  He doesn’t.

“Okay?”  He sneers.  “Why’s that of any interest to me?”

“Well, you’ve mentioned a few times he’s been a thorn in your side, so I thought maybe, y’know,” Quackity laughs nervously.  This isn’t how he’d hoped for this to go.  Normally, he finds convincing people easy and far from daunting, but with Schlatt it’s different.  “Do you… do you not want to stop him from taking over your operations?  Isn’t that what the man is inching toward?”

“Nah, no!  He’s not doing shit, actually, he’s just some dipshit across the river fucking around in finance,” Schlatt scoffs, meandering behind his desk to his glass.

“So, killing him is no problem, right?” Quackity is frustrated and therefore bold.  He knows he’s risking shoving his ulterior motives in Schlatt’s face, but he refuses to let this plan go to shit just because Schlatt doesn’t feel like listening.

Schlatt sets the glass down before it can reach his lips, staring at Quackity with narrowed eyes.  “What is it you’re trying to say, sweetheart?”

“Nothing.  Don’t overthink it.  I just don’t see why you wouldn’t want to knock some competition off the board,” Quackity keeps his expression neutral even as Schlatt circles the desk once more and towers over him.  Schlatt’s hand is raised toward his face, but Quackity doesn’t flinch, the man just pats his cheek.

“Because, sugar, he’s not competition.  He’s prey,” Schlatt gives Quackity a far too devouring once over on that last word.  He smirks, before stepping back.  “But whatever, sure, not like I have any plans this weekend.  I’ll kill him, just to let off some steam.  Why not.”

“You’ll…” It takes Quackity a second to process that he’s gotten his way.  It almost makes him nervous, it feels too easy.  “Schlatt, I wasn’t trying to push you, I’m sorry if I–”

“God, what the fuck do you want from me?!  Do you want me to kill him, or not?” Schlatt shouts at him, gesturing with the glass.  Quackity flinches, thinking Schlatt is about to throw it at his head.  He doesn’t.  Schlatt laughs, smug.  He knows exactly why he flinched.  Quackity flushes red.  “Fuck, you’re a worrier, huh?  Just get outta here.”

Quackity nods, wavering for just a moment, burying the urge to get the last word in.  It's not worth it.  He had been good at not flinching so far, it was the raised glass paired with the yelling, it threw him off.  Quackity just turns and leaves, jaw set and tense.  He’d gotten his way, and he still somehow feels like he lost.  That’s just how it is with Schlatt; depending on how this weekend goes, that might change.

#yeah. it's time. mr. beast exists. #please laugh laughter is appropriate. #he won't exist for long to be fair #mafia au #my writing

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

My friend and I love coming up with AU's. Last night we chatted and came up with a few.

The Savage Land AU

When King used his powers to push Luz through the door, the others jumped out of the way and didn't get through the portal

That means, Luz is the only one to get to the Human Realm with no way back

At first they hide at the school

But then, the Archivists came back because they noticed the Collector finally did what they were supposed to do, even if it is a bit different

They compliment him so he gives them a bit of the Demon Realm

The Collector doesn't forgive them

The Archivists use a different manipulation technique, namely threats

They are threatening them they would take King away from them too

Defeated, they give in. They can't lose King too

So the Archivists go savage beyond the Collector's Land as the survivors call it

Survivors because the people refuse to make contact with the Archivists and they don't like not being able to manipulate them for their own favor

They can't move in huge groups because the Archivists would split them up again which often leads to injuries or even death

So they have to rely on themselves and their environment because many houses are destroyed. As if they were stranded on a deserted island

Wooden Mind AU

Palistrom wood got infected with something over the years. It doesn't cause harm to humans and doesn't affect the palismen as well

However, it DOES affect Belos

Let's say, his mind isn't the best anymore, sort of like dementia

This creates a very interesting dynamic in the palace

Should they tell the public? Who would become the next emperor? Hunter is his nephew but he is only 16, should he get onto the throne anyway?

Belos still figures out what is going on in the castle and replaces the people who thought they should belong on the throne

Oh, and he only calls Hunter Caleb from then on

He lets slip some very questionable things from time to time. Things about the Human Realm. He rants a lot about someone named Evelyn too

Replaced AU

So, remember how in Hunting Palismen Kikimora wanted to kill Hunter?

Yeah, in this AU Hunter doesn't get back because Kiki hit a spell at him while he was on his staff in the air

Don't worry, Luz used her Mario Kart skills to fly them to the Owl House (she panicked)

Hunter doesn't wake up for a while. Or he does but he has trouble recognising his surroundings and acting accordingly

So when he finally is ready to sit up again, multiple days have past

Eda doesn't let him leave immediately. For one because she thinks maybe he could be threatened enough by her empty comments to get some information and two because he is still pretty badly injured and is not able to walk straight really

in the meantime, Kiki came back from the mission and tells Belos that Hunter is dead

Suddenly, all the crystal balls turn on with an announcement by Belos himself

He says how in his latest mission, the Golden Guard has overestimated himself and is no longer in the coven and that he has already been replaced

Hunter can't believe how low Belos talks about him, that he doesn't even seem to be grieving but still somehow thinks he deserves it. He just can't believe he was replaced this quickly, even though it also makes sense in his mind

#the owl house #toh #toh au #toh belos #toh hunter #toh the collector #the collector #watching and dreaming #toh watching and dreaming #the owl house au