#dash comm: you chilling out there

[acr3ss-the-cosmos]

Epic Binary Rap Battles of Star Rail: ROUND 2

#ground control; (OOC) #observing the cosmic spaces; (DASH COMM) #((FREAKING YOU TWO CHILL OUT ASHSJFKJ))

[gumnut-logic]

“Get your feet off the dash!”

Gordon, of course, paid him no attention. Laid back in the co-pilot’s seat, he languished, reading his tablet.

Virgil stalked across the cockpit with his coffee, thoroughly satisfied with his decision to grab the last piece of cake. “Get your feet off the dash, or I will remove them myself.”

“Geez, Virg. Take a chill pill.” The feet stayed on the console.

Sitting down, Virgil reached over and retracted the co-pilot’s seat, sending it flying backwards. Gordon’s feet hit the deck with a thud.

“Ow! What is your problem?” The aquanaut glared at him.

“At this very moment? You.”

“Huh? Well, you just need to relax, man. C’mon, we’ve got an hour at least. Put your feet up and take a moment. It’s not like we get many.” Gordon returned to his tablet, a slight frown on his face. A foot lifted up…

“You put your foot anywhere near that console and you are swimming home.”

The foot dropped back to the deck and Gordon turned his back to his brother.

Virgil sighed and closed his eyes for a moment, leaning back and letting the sound of his girl vibrate through his bones, to shake away the aggravation. Gordon was right about one thing. It was a rare moment to sit and do nothing. They were returning from a boat rescue in Norway. A ferry had collided with a fishing boat and both were taking on water. Fortunately, Thunderbird Two and the two brothers were already in Scotland assisting with a North Sea exploratory station when it happened and were able to dart across to Scandinavia and rescue the three hundred and five people involved. A very successful rescue had been had despite the freezing cold.

Now they just needed to cross two oceans to get home again.

“So, boxers or briefs?”

“What?” He turned to look at his younger brother.

“Boxers or briefs? Which is it?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“It’s not me, its these IRFs. They are having a discussion about our preferences.” An eyebrow raised as he peered closer at his tablet.

“Irfs?”

“International Rescue Fans. C’mon, Virg, get with it, you know we have groupies.”

“If you say so.”

“So, boxers or briefs?”

“If you had lifted a finger in your life to assist with the laundry, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

“I do laundry.”

“You do piles of unwashed clothes.”

“They get washed eventually.”

“Yes, but not by you.”

“Eh, washed is washed, Virgo.”

Virgil sputtered into his coffee and turned towards his brother. “Virgo?” There was enough warning in his tone to arm a nuclear warhead.

Gordon smiled up at him. “Virgo.” A glare full of dare.

“Say that again.”

“Virgo.” Gordon grinned. “Virgo, Virgo, Virgo.” Then he laughed out loud. “Virgo!”

-o-o-o-

Alan Tracy was chasing a demented autovac when the holographic system in the comms room flashed on. He stood up, fully expecting to see John, but was surprised to encounter a giant foot flickering in the middle of the living room.

He snatched up the autovac before it could escape, but jumped when the comms shouted in Virgil’s voice, ‘Get your feet off the dash!’

He stared. Definitely Gordon’s boot, yellow stripe and all. ‘Get your feet off the dash, or I will remove them myself.’

‘Geez, Virg. Take a chill pill.’

There was a clunk and suddenly the boot disappeared to be replaced by an angry Virgil and an exasperated Gordon. It became immediately clear that they had no idea they were transmitting. Alan stepped back and around the transmitter making sure to keep out of range of the holoprojector. A quick look at the channel reassured him that it was secure to International Rescue, he could see it, the team could see it, but no one outside the organisation had access, thankfully. He reached out to kill the connection.

‘So, boxers or briefs?’

His hand hesitated.

-o-o-o-

Virgil glared at his brother. He could kill him, but that would be messy and the paperwork would suck. “You are so not worth it.” He turned back to his coffee.

“Virgo. Hey, Virgo! Virgo. Virgo. Virgo!”

“WHAT?!”

“Made you answer.”

Maybe the paperwork would be worth it. “What is it with you?!”

“What is it with you? You’re the one who is all grumpy pants.”

“I wonder why.” He buried his face in his coffee, fighting against the tension in his shoulders.

“So do I. You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all day. It has been a good day. We’ve saved hundreds of lives. Nobody died. We have a moment of peace and you’re a grumpy ass.”

The knots twisted tighter. “There has been no moment of peace, Gordon. You simply won’t shut up!”

“This is not you, Virgil! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“There is nothing wrong with me! It is you! You’re being an irritating pain in the ass. Why don’t you shut up and leave me in peace!”

“Fine.”

Gordon grabbed his tablet, shot to his feet and stormed out of the cabin.

Oh, thank god.

-o-o-o-

Scott was halfway across the Pacific when the transmission came in. He was on his way back from Japan, having been requested to speak at a seminar for GDF first responders. It wasn’t often IR appeared anywhere but at rescues, but this had been a special request from Colonel Casey and having personally met some of the attendees at said rescues, he had made an exception. He may not be able to share their technology, but shared experience could help save many more lives. Security had been tight, but Kayo had insisted on going with him in any case. Her ‘Bird was pacing him a few hundred metres behind.

The sight of his brother’s footwear caused a smirk. He opened his mouth to interrupt, but something held him back.

It was worth a laugh at first, ‘Boxers or briefs?’ But then something soured, it all went wrong, his brothers were yelling at each other. Gordon was being his usual jerk self, but Virgil was…Virgil was not Virgil.

Virgil was angry. Really angry. Something so out of character, so raw, it stunned him for a moment.

Gordon cracked and stormed out.

There was silence for a moment, and Scott saw all the energy, all the anger suddenly drain out of his brother. Virgil’s body slumped in his seat, his eyes closed, his face crumpling to one of anguish for just a moment before letting his head drop forward into his hands.

Oh god, was he crying?!

Scott’s mind blanked for a moment. What the hell had happened? What was wrong? Where had this come from?

Why hadn’t he seen it coming?

He reached out to contact his brother, but a hand landed on the holographic man’s shoulder and once again something held him back.

-o-o-o-

Gordon paused by the hatch, looking back at his hunched over brother. Well, that had failed absolutely brilliantly. He should have known better. Virgil was not Scott, he was not Alan, and nobody was John. Poking the bear could have worked, but obviously it didn’t.

He sighed under his breath.

He’d been watching his brother all day. Grumpy was a word, but it wasn’t quite the right word. His performance was excellent, of course. You don’t save three hundred odd people from the Norwegian Sea by being sloppy. He would never expect anything less from Virgil. But his spark had been missing. Even while in Scotland, even underwater in the new sea station surrounded by the vibrant life of the ocean, there had been a dead look in his brother’s eyes. It had bugged him. This wasn’t Virgil. Something was wrong. The gentle energy that poured off the man was absent and it left Gordon adrift.

So he poked the bear.

And somehow made it worse.

He wasn’t good at this. Damnit.

In the shadows of the cockpit, Virgil’s shoulders were shaking just that little bit.

Oh, man. He was so not the right person for this. Scott was going to kill him.

But there was something wrong and he was the only brother available. Drawing in a breath he stepped back into the cockpit, walked softly over to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder.

The uniform under his fingers jerked, and Virgil looked up, tired but dry eyes staring at him.

Oh, thank god. Tears were so far beyond his skill set, he would have ended up crying himself and then where would they have been? There was something about seeing his older, usually steadfast brother vulnerable that just tore as chunk out of his chest. A chunk he usually needed to breathe.

He crouched down by his brother’s seat, his hand slipping from the man’s shoulder to his thigh. Brown eyes tracked his movements, a slightly puzzled frown forming between them.

Well, honesty was apparently the best policy. “Tell me what you need, Virg. I want to help, but I’m not good at this. What is wrong?”

A slow blink. A deep voice, laced with a thread of strain. “Nothing is wrong, Gordon. I’m just tired.” His brother straightened in his seat, the façade falling back into place.

Aww, c’mon, Virg, I know I’m not Scott, but I’m not stupid either. Though, at least he wasn’t yelling at him anymore.

His hand tightened on tough fabric.

“I’m fine. Honest, Gordy.” Virgil sat up straighter in his seat. The façade got thicker, and Gordon couldn’t help but feel a tendril of rejection winding up his spine. It twisted as Virgil put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “It’s okay.”

“You don’t need to go all big brother on me, Virgil. I’m old enough to know when my brother is hurting, and I love you enough to try and do something to help you.”

The hand on his shoulder froze. And retreated.

Those brown eyes widened and, for just a moment, the vulnerability welled up, surfaced and was exposed.

-o-o-o-

Sally Tracy had her heart in her throat.

As the holograms played out before her she had been ripped from amusement, to worry, to fear, all wrapped in that all-encompassing love for her grandchildren.

She had an idea of what might be upsetting Virgil. Today had been a good day, but there had been weeks before today, that hadn’t. She’d been watching him, knowing he was prone to neglecting himself, knowing he tended to take in more than the other boys, his professional façade just that slightly more porous to the emotions of others.

She had planned to speak to Scott. They were due for another shopping trip. Due for a little time out.

But apparently Gordon had stepped up to the plate.

All her instincts were screaming to go to her boys, embrace them both, protect them from the world, but they were somewhere on the other side of the Pacific, several thousand metres up in the air. She only had holograms to reach out to.

And she dare not interrupt.

-o-o-o-

Virgil looked down at Gordon and saw the years of experience behind those eyes. Eyes not unlike his own, but framed by such a different face and personality, and just for that one moment, every thing washed away and all he felt was love for his little brother.

But the question was still waiting to be answered.

Virgil broke eye contact, looking down, and let his body go slack. “I don’t know, Gordon.” His voice was quiet, almost husky with exhaustion. “Maybe I am just tired.”

The hand on his knee tightened again. It wasn’t enough.

An exasperated sigh. “I don’t know! Maybe. It’s been a long stretch this time. Again.” His hands shot out for emphasis. “You said it yourself – it’s been a good day because nobody died!” And he was raising his voice again. “Is that really how we gauge our good days? Is the bar really that low?” Is this what his life was? Running from one misery to the next, desperately trying to keep his head above the terror and the pain? “Is this really a Good Day?”

-o-o-o-

John floated in space, his hand poised to reach for the off switch, frozen.

‘Is this really a Good Day?’

Something in his stomach curdled. His whole mind, body and self cringed away from the question. That way lay doubt, and loss, and change, and a multitude of other factors he was unwilling to consider.

Things are as they are because that is the way they are meant to be.

Elsewhere lay weakness, and reasons to be not as he is now.

Gordon didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted down as if marshalling his thoughts, before looking back up at his brother. ‘I don’t know, Virgil.’ He pressed his lips together. ‘All I know is that I have you, I have Scott, John, Alan, Kayo, Brains and Grandma.” He looked away, nibbling his bottom lip before turning back and latching onto his brother’s eyes. ‘We live an amazing life, Virg. We give up a lot, but there are people on this planet who will never see what we’ve seen. We have been everywhere. I mean Everywhere. And we make a difference. You make a difference. You have saved so many people, Virgil. So many souls. So many brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, mothers and fathers.’ He swallowed again before turning back to Virgil and pinning him with his eyes. ‘We have our health and we have each other, so, yes, Virgil, it is a damn good day.’

Gordon sat back on his heels.

‘And I know you know that, because you’ve told me on so many occasions that I can now spout it by rote. So tell me, what has my big brother forgetting one of his core mantras?’

John’s hand dropped to his side.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was forced to smile. He couldn’t help it. Part of him was so proud, so gobsmacked, so lucky to be family with this man. “I so love you right now.”

Gordon’s eyes widened and he stumbled backwards to his feet. “Aaw, man.”

“Hey, hey.” Virgil reached out and snagged his hand. Gordon tried to pull away, but for once, Virgil played on his strength. “Come here. Look at me.” Very much now the usual resistant younger brother, Gordon reluctantly looked down at Virgil. “That means a lot. You mean a lot. To me. Never forget that.” He gripped his brother’s hand a little tighter for emphasis before letting go.

Gordon rolled his eyes. “How could I with you around?” He shifted his feet. “Now spill. What’s been bugging you enough to bug the rest of us? C’mon, you ripped John a new one yesterday, Alan has been hiding from you for the last week, and if Scott asks me one more time if I’ve done anything to set you off, I’m going to leave something flammable in his bathtub. What is wrong, Virg?”

“Apart from you calling me, Virg?”

“It’s a pet name.” Virgil glared. “A sign of fondness?” He raised an eyebrow. “Would you prefer Virgo?”

“I’m a Leo.” Thank god he had been born a couple weeks early.

“I noticed. Several times today as you tried to tear my head off with your teeth.” He waved his hand in the direction of Virgil’s head. “And then there is that mane thing you’ve got going there.”

Virgil sighed, letting his shoulders drop, but didn’t answer.

“C’mon, Virg, tell me, so we can fix it.”

Virgil sighed. “Gordon, I appreciate what you are trying to do. I do, honestly. But-“ He threw his hands up in the air. “I don’t know. Everything is just-“ He frowned. “I’ll speak to Alan and Scott when we get home, apologise. I can call John. I-“ A swallow. “I’ll try to be less of a bear.”

“I thought you were a lion.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Okay, smart ass.” A more serious tone. “I will do better, I promise.”

The scepticism on Gordon’s face was anything but encouraging. “I don’t want you to do better, I want you to be happy.”

-o-o-o-

There was a flicker of pain in Virgil’s eyes before he looked away.

Goddamnit! The guy just didn’t get it. This wasn’t about altering his behaviour, this was about finding the problem and getting help to fix it. Was it his innate selflessness or his pig-headed refusal to let anyone in?

Gordon turned his back on his brother and sat down in the co-pilot’s seat. So, honesty didn’t work. Check. There was even a dash of sensitivity in there for bonus points and that failed as well. Well, his toolbox was completely blown. Guess this would need to be handballed to Scott. After all the two eldest had that bond thing going. Maybe old blue eyes could talk some sense into him.

Of course, now the cockpit was ominously silent. Well as silent as it could get with those massive thrusters roaring out their backend. He eyed the navigation panel. Damn, still a good forty minutes to go before he could escape.

He eyed his brother sideways. Virgil was staring out the window, a lost look on his face, his fingers absently tapping out an agitated beat on the side console.

At least if they were home, Gordon could shove the man in front of his piano. The distraction couldn’t hurt. And hey, free music.

Virgil’s fingers continued to tap to an unseen beat.

Actually, come to think of it, he hadn’t heard Virgil playing the piano recently. He tried to think back to when he’d last heard or seen his brother playing his instrument. He frowned. There was Alan’s birthday…but that had been interrupted by that power plant in Saigon. Grandma’s birthday. He’d played that new composition just for her.

But that was over six months ago.

Damned if he could remember his brother sitting down to play at any other more recent time. Sure, it was a background thing for Gordon, he didn’t pay that much attention. Virgil played the piano, it was his thing, he was pretty damn good at it, and as long as it didn’t collide with what Gordon wanted to do, whatever.

But he knew enough to know that it was important to Virgil.

Like the water was important to Gordon.

He eyed his brother again. Virgil ran a tired hand through his hair. “What, Gordon?”

“Nothing.” He pointed towards the cockpit door. “I’m just going to go check on Thunderbird Four. Just remembered she hit some ice with her left thruster. Want to make sure there isn’t any damage.”

Virgil’s eyes betrayed him. He knew an excuse when he heard one. “Let me know if you need a hand.”

Gordon held back a flinch. “Will do.”

He escaped.

-o-o-o-

Brains jumped when the call came in. He hurriedly shut down his view of Virgil staring out the windows of Thunderbird Two, the guilt making him trip over his own chair.

“G-Gordon! Uh, what can I d-do for you?”

“Need your help, Brains.” The bright yellow of Thunderbird Four’s cockpit haloed the second youngest Tracy. “How is Virgil’s birthday present going?”

Blink. “Uh, as-sembled it yesterday. I’d still like to do a f-few last tests.”

“We need to give it to him today.”

“W-why?”

“It needs to be today, Brains. It can’t wait until next month. He needs it today. Can you upload it to Thunderbird Four?”

He did the math and considered the equipment specs needed. “You will need a secondary projector.”

“Will the one in TB4 do the job?”

“Yes.” He was going to cannibalise his own craft? But then considering what Brains had witnessed earlier…this might be a viable plan.

“Send it up. I’ll set it up.” He paused a moment. “I’m sorry, I know you’ve put a lot of work into it, but trust me. He needs this. He really does.”

“I trust you, G-Gordon.”

“Thank you. I owe you big time.”

“Y-you owe me n-nothing, Gordon. Just help him.” Yes, Brains had been a witness to the second eldest Tracy’s issues recently. All the boys had their moments, but Virgil in particular had been having a bad time. It was times like this that he missed Jeff the most.

Gordon signed off. Brains took a breath, let it out, and set to work.

-o-o-o-

Virgil’s coffee had gone cold. The cake still sat beside him, but it was forgotten.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He could not ask for more. There was no more. He had everything he could ever want. Gordon had proven that.

So why did he feel this way? Everything felt grey, lacklustre, colourless. He wasn’t sleeping well. Faces, so many faces.

He told Gordon he didn’t know because, honestly, he didn’t. Perhaps if he did, he could fix it himself, but so far, no clue.

The human body didn’t come with a manual.

“Virgil.”

He jumped. He hadn’t heard Gordon return. “How’s TB4? Any damage?”

“She’s good.” Gordon had something bundled in his hands. “Uh, I’ve got something for you.” He raised a hand full of electronics. “No, stay there. Here, just let me set this up.”

Gordon reached around him and put something yellow on the side console. Virgil frowned in alarm. “Is that Thunderbird Four’s holoprojector?”

“Yup. Here hold this while I plug this in.” Gordon reached around him again, plugging a cord into the main console. He then reached down and pulled the pilot’s chair back to it’s furthest distance from the dash.

“Hey. What are you up to?”

“Trust me, Virg, you are going to like this.”

“That’s exactly what you said when you decided Thunderbird Two needed a camouflage paint job.” He eyed the yellow holoprojector. “And Brains wanted to scalp you that time, too.”

“Brains, knows what I’m doing.���

“He does?”

“I said trust me, Virg.” He reached around to the other side of the pilot’s seat and placed down another holoprojector. “That should do it.” Another plug slid into the dash. Gordon stepped back and flipped a switch.

The two projectors threw out strands of light that met in the middle. They interwove above his lap, forming the familiar haze of your average hologram.

Virgil sucked in a breath.

“Wait for it.”

Secondary pulses of energy shot out and followed the tracings of the first display. The hologram focussed and intensified.

Into a piano keyboard.

Virgil looked up at his brother, vaguely aware that his mouth was open.

“Go on, touch it.”

He reached out a finger and brushed it against a single key. It touched back. It felt solid. “H-how?”

“Brains. He has been working on it for a while.” Gordon grinned. “Happy birthday, big brother.”

He couldn’t speak. He reached down and played a single note. It rung around the cockpit, echoing off her hard shell. He played another and it chased the first.

“Brains said you can make it as long as a full piano or shorter, depending on your needs. It is tied into the ship’s sound system here, but it will support a proper instrumental amplifier and all the gizmos you could want. Fully portable, of course. We can rig it up with its own specialised projectors when we get home.”

Virgil grabbed his hand and held it tight.

Gordon’s lips curved into a small smile.

Softly. “Play me something, Virgil.”

-o-o-o-

Kayo wasn’t one for crying. She was more likely to go out and injure a piece of gym equipment, but there was no punching bag in Thunderbird Shadow’s cockpit.

Her second eldest brother touched the keys. Hesitantly at first as he got a feel for the holographic instrument, testing the sound and response. A note here, a chord there, a simple tune, a practise routine. His lips parted, drawing in breath.

Then he closed his eyes, and feeling with only touch and sound, began to play.

Familiar notes, an old favourite. His fingers danced across the keys. As he fell into the music, she watched his face, his frown smoothing out and a slight, occupied smile curving his lips.

Gordon stood in the background, arms crossed over his chest, his own smile and just a hint of hope on his face.

The comfortable tune morphed into a more complex composition, the notes interweaving over and under each other. Grandma’s special piece made an appearance, Virgil’s smile deepening as the love behind it vibrated the air around him.

But soon it began to fade. Darker notes started to take precedence. The frown reappeared on her brother’s face. His fingers moved faster, the sounds became more strident and, suddenly, all familiarity was taken by emotion.

-o-o-o-

Scott sat in the dark of the hanger.

Oh, Virgil.

His brother’s fingers played as if of their own volition. Lost to the music, Virgil swayed gently in his seat. One hand spoke anger, the other spoke pain, but amongst the notes a single spritely tune spoke of hope. It interwove, dancing back and forth, teasing, only to be joined by a partner, then another.

All harmonised with the persistent background roar of Thunderbird Two.

-o-o-o-

His grandmother had tears running down her face.

Alan looked up at her, his own heart wretched. He had never heard his brother play like this. He was no classical music fancier, but this said so much more.

So much pain, but so much hope. It was as if the music was trying to save someone, reaching out with all its might, its fingertips straining to keep someone from falling.

It kept trying and trying.

-o-o-o-

Space wasn’t silent. It was crying.

John had his hand resting gently on EOS’ frame and his eyes closed. She had stopped asking him questions, stopped querying his reactions. She didn’t understand, but trusted that he did.

His other hand reached up to cover his eyes, whether to hide from the expression on his brother’s face or to try and comfort himself he didn’t know.

Virgil was bleeding music.

He hadn’t heard his brother cry in years, but this was, this was the sound of tears. How long had this been building up? How long had his brother been feeling this way?

But amongst all the pain, there was so much hope. A searching, a need, a determination. John looked up at his brother to find him biting his bottom lip, his frown of concentration so intense it looked painful.

“EOS, prepare the elevator. I need to go home.”

-o-o-o-

Gordon stood behind his brother getting worried. Had he screwed this up too?

It was like Virgil was throwing all of himself onto the keys. They were taking one hell of a pounding and Gordon hoped Brain’s handywork could support the abuse.

But it seemed Virgil needed to do it.

What appeared to be a little downer Gordon thought he could poke out of his brother, now seemed so much bigger. Gordon didn’t understand music much, so not his thing, but this was so primal, so raw…

It ached. It hurt.

The music rose suddenly to a yell, and some of the darker notes fell away. Virgil’s right hand danced across some of the higher pitched keys and the music began to lose weight, began to rise, the hope slowly overcoming the loss.

His brother’s head tipped slightly to one side still swaying just slightly, as the metre ticked the seconds by.

The song changed as the pain gradually slipped away. A strident single dance of keys became the lead, idly waltzing across the keyboard, back and forth. His left hand slowed leaving Virgil’s right to the majority of the tune, until it too began to slow.

Both hands came together, notes dropping like autumn leaves, the sound softer and softer, until there was five, then four, three, and two. One.

And silence.

Virgil slumped over the keyboard breathing heavily, his head in his hands.

“You have no idea how much I needed that.” It was muffled, but Gordon heard it.

No, dear brother, but I can see.

They sat in silence. No words. None wanted. Thunderbird Two continued her song.

Tracy Island appeared on the horizon.

“We’re home, Virg.” It was quiet, but Virgil heard him.

He sat up wearily, looking down at the keyboard, then back at his brother. “How?”

“Oh.” Gordon quickly cut the power to the hologram, unplugged and removed the projectors. He said nothing about the unshed tears in his brother’s eyes, just secured the precious equipment in preparation for landing.

Virgil shook himself, sat up straight, engaging his seat with the console, and was suddenly completely the professional pilot and International Rescue Operative he always was. Numbers started flying about the cockpit as autopilot was disengaged and Thunderbird Two began her descent towards home.

-o-o-o-

As his ‘Bird finished her rotation in her hanger, he cut off her engines and for the first time in so many hours, there was true silence.

He looked down at his hands, aware of what he had likely exposed to his brother, but ever so, so grateful. “Thank you, Gordon. For everything.”

“No thanks needed, bro.” Gordon climbed out of his co-pilot seat. “I’m just going to go and see to my little yellow submarine.” And he wandered off, as nonchalant as ever.

His big brother couldn’t help but smile.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was exhausted, but he had to check up on Scott and Kayo. For some reason they hadn’t reported making it back yet. He hoped it was only a communication glitch, because he didn’t think he had the energy to save anyone at this moment.

He was completely drained. Of everything.

It had been such a release to finally let himself fall into the music. Let it out, break the dam. He hadn’t realised it had been so long since he had played. He should know better. His art was his outlet. It was the only way to relieve the stress of his occupation and he hadn’t had time over the last few months to really sit down and let himself go. To busy, too tired, too interrupted, too everything.

He had to make a point of making time. He needed this or it would all fall apart. He should have recognised the signs, but again, too much of everything.

He had never thought Gordon…

God, he was a lucky man to have such a family.

Speaking of family…

He came up behind Gordon who was standing just inside the entrance to the comms room. Still in his uniform, like Virgil, he was standing almost at attention.

“Gordy, what-“

Then his eyes caught the tableau.

His entire family, including John and Brains, even Max and EOS were standing in the lounge staring at the two of them.

Grandma had tears in her eyes.

What the hell? “What’s wrong?” He dropped the bag he was carrying and rushed forward. “Grandma?” His hackles rose and he looked around the room attempting to find out what the source of the trouble was. His eyes latched onto Scott’s and found worry.

His grandmother reached up and gently turned him to face her. Her eyes were glistening. Her voice was rough. “You are a most wonderful boy.” And she had her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a tight embrace. “I love you. We love you. Never forget it.”

He looked up at Scott, getting more worried by the second. “What happened?”

It was Gordon who answered, his voice so quiet. “They heard it, Virgil. Heard it all.”

“Heard what?” Would someone please tell him what the hell was going on.

Scott moved closer to him. Virgil looked up as he approached, his brother’s wary expression setting off alarm bells in his head. He straightened, gently letting his grandmother find her feet as he turned to face his older brother.

A hand reached out and rested on his shoulder. “Virgil, Thunderbird Two’s comms have been open for the last hour. We all heard you and Gordon…and your music.”

Virgil’s heart dropped and his eyes widened. He took a step back, Scott’s hand falling from his shoulder. He swallowed to find his voice. “How?”

“Gordon’s feet on the dash.”

He spun around towards his co-pilot. Scott caught his arm. “Did you know?” Anger and acute embarrassment welled up.

But Gordon looked as horrified as he felt. His arms shot up defensively. “No, god, Virgil, no, I swear. I’d never –“ He took a step back. “It was an accident.”

“Virgil.” Scott was pulling him gently backwards. He turned to face his brother, his face flaming. “Are you okay?”

He grit his teeth. “I’m fine.” He moved to pull away, but Scott held him fast. “I’m fine!” Again he moved to pull away, but to his surprise, his brother pulled him into his arms and embraced him.

No words, Scott’s arms just tightened.

Virgil’s heart leapt up into his throat as he automatically hugged back. “Scott?”

The arms tightened even more before his brother finally pulled away, obviously fighting for composure. “You…you need to take better care of yourself.”

Embarrassment warred with regret. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t get to say that.” Kayo stalked over into his personal space, her expression angry. She shoved a finger into the centre of his chest. “Don’t you dare apologise and don’t you dare be embarrassed. That was the most powerful piece of music I have ever heard, and it was all you.” A breath. “You have no need to hide yourself, Virgil. We’re your family and just like Gordon we love you enough to want to help. I don’t know how long you’ve been bottling all that up, but if that help requires me to hogtie you to your piano every morning I will.”

He stared at her wide-eyed, but some of the embarrassment lifted. “You are truly scary.”

She stabbed him with her finger again. “And don’t you forget it.” A fond smile crept onto her face and it was her turn to wrap her arms around him and bury her head into his chest.

“I’m okay.” He held her tight.

“You better be.”

-o-o-o-

Alan let a breath out, finally letting himself relax. He didn’t want to admit it, but for a bit there, he had been scared. He knew Virgil was the artistic type, the only one amongst the six of them, he knew that sometimes made him react just that more to a situation, sometimes weirdly, but the emotion in that music, the pain on his brother’s face…he hadn’t known that was possible, much less that Virgil had been carrying it around with him.

As John walked over to his dark-haired brother and placed a hand on his shoulder, Alan saw Virgil finally, truly smile.

Alan found himself grinning with relief. And he wasn’t the only one – there were a whole range of goofy faces around the room now.

Except for Gordon.

His water brother was still standing outside the circle of the lounge, his expression worried.

Stepping around the sofa, Alan climbed up the steps, reaching out. “Hey, you did good.”

“I did?” He was still staring at the huddle of family. “But will he ever forgive me?”

Alan stood beside him. “He’s forgiven you for a whole lot worse. Remember the tarantulas?”

“Which ones?”

“Exactly.”

Gordon looked at him and a smile finally broke through. Alan grinned back.

In the circle of the lounge, Virgil had broken away from his sister and was now bear-hugging their hapless engineer. Brains almost looked frightened. Alan’s grin widened. “Do you think he needs rescuing?”

“Nah. He can handle it. Serves him right for coming up with that idea anyway.”

They stood there for a moment, side by side. “You know we’ll have to keep an eye on him.” Gordon’s voice was quiet.

��No more than he does on us, bro.”

Half a laugh and Gordon wrapped an arm around his shoulder and squeezed.

Yes, it was a Good Day.

A damn good one.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #nuttyfic reblog #very much an oldie #second Thunderbirds fic I ever wrote #was so happy with it at the time #FishTank #before I even knew it was a thing

[outofthiisworld]

GET TO KNOW YOUR ADMIN !!

name: Boo! pronouns: She/They (no preference, i like both :3)  preferred comms: tumblr ims mostly! if we mesh well+spoken ooc a lot we can chat on discord too :) i uuh do tend to forget to check my discord messages outside of my webhooks however names of muse: Ophelia, Doc, Copycat and Father Necrosis rn! A few ✨secret-menu✨ muses/npc’s as well

experience in RP: been rp’ing since i was 13 so bout 14 yrs exp rn! (i say 10+ in my rules tho cause that’s one less number i have to change each birthday)— most of my experiences have been w/ a close knit group of buds that soon turned into 1+1 rp’ing with a bestie im still VERY close with :3c

i dabbled in online rp’ing around eeeeeehhh 2015ish but i certainly wasnt putting myself out there like i am now sdfsdfg

best experiences: the entirety of this blog tbh. a few bumps in the road and learning curves to get back into the groove of things, but ultimately i feel like a carved out a really excellent and chill lil’ corner on this site :”) special shoutouts to some really INCREDIBLE partners and buds that make rp’ing on here beyond delightful:

@pzfr is a phenomenal writer, a beyond thoughtful rp partner and perhaps a bit too powerful of a creative— personally if some horrific yet comedic demise should befall me then i trust full custody of doc & ophelia to him 100% HE GETS IT (don’t u worry i’ll live forever tho). For real though, there's such genuine love in the way he works with the genres that inspire him as well as with writing as a whole! @5mind GAAAARLIIIIIIIC. we continuously cook up dubious foods in the dms; our plots are forebodingly diabolical (affectionate) and [covering garlic's ears] i still plan to consume their brain for power. he’s got THE most creative and inspired never before seen characters on this side of the universe that i adore so so so much and tbh if you aren’t following her like…….bro be fr with me rn like why @riiese Mark’s writing legitimately inspires me. They are THE voice master dude. The way they weave words together feels right out of a fairytale with this whimsical magic to it that gets me lost in the moment!!! i can’t help but get swept up in their beautiful prose!!! @dynamoprotocol BRO lowkey i remember being shocked when I saw he followed me. From the writing, the care to detail, the art, Clarissa/Chance’s development, the worldbuilding, AND he’s CHILL AS FUCK??? and you wanna follow ME dude??? for real though, i cant sing enough high praises!! @natterghast i stumbled upon her by chance and sooooooo happy i did <33 their ocs absolutely captivated me, each one has this cozy cosmic horror vibe that im? obsessed with?? AND THE WAY SHE WRITES IS SO GORGEOUS AND FULL OF MEANING AND CARE THEY PUT IN AND [wrattling the bars in my enclosure]

there are so many more i can shout out but i will have to cap it here since this post has gotten ... so long and i am now so sleepy. Genuinely though, everyone I follow and get to see pop up on my dash both makes me day and inspires me as a creative each and every time!!!

pet peeves/dealbreakers: the biggest ones for me rn are like … needlessly aggressive ooc attitudes, be it towards anons, in rules, in posts— esp if someone is flaunting about being mean i uh. have fun i guess? not for me.

Condescending rules, especially those geared towards oc’s, might even result in an insta-block from me. (i promise it’s okay to just say ur selective overall and leave it at that).

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ): I generally like to lean more into light-hearted & comedic stuff, esp when first interacting but cus it’s fun! Once I get comfy with my rp buds tho i do loooooove to get into the meat n potatoes— the drama, the action, THE DRAMA!!! <- but a nice balance is important to me!

if everything is doom n’ gloom all the time without either a break, some sort of bitter-sweetness, and/or light at the end of the tunnel— then The Dread™ starts to feel too much for me :0 that being said … horror is … so much fun too <3

plot or memes: memes are a life savior esp when it comes to breaking the ice— i wouldn’t be cookin’ up like. any of the delectable plots i got brewing in the dms without em >:0

long or short replies: BOTH! i tend to naturally lean towards longer replies, moreso because i always have A Lot To Say™️ but i love goofing around with shorter stuff <3

best time to write: if i had my way it’d be an hour or two after i wake up in the morning and made myself my fancy energy drink + did my n.eopets dailies 💕 i try to make sure i get one day off like this each weekend it’s so lovely. Otherwise, i try not to stress about it too much and do what i can. i want my rp buds to know i genuinely dont mind waiting for replies or anything and i think it starts with how you hold yourself to that same degree too

are you like your muse?: ooooo aren’t we all in some way? it’s important to sprinkle some part or facet of YOU into them, especially ocs!

i will say, Doc is far closer alike to me versus anyone else on this blog, esp when it comes to values! he’s just far more gung-ho that i could ever have the energy to be tho. also i hope im not as stubborn as him 💀

i did give Ophelia my weird girl tendencies tho but cranked that shit up into MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE!!!

tagged by: @pzfr

tagging: i uh. i think most of my mutuals already got tagged this SO if you see this and you havent........PLEASE do this and tag me weeheehee <3

#👽 … ooc #👾 … dash game #//under a readmore cause as usual i had SOOOOO much to say #//this was a lot of fun tho!!!

[whenthepawnstrikes]

Between His Finger and the Trigger. Chapter One: home.

You know that ghosts are only a figment of one’s imagination. A shadow on the wall, an unfamiliar dash of light in a mirror, a strange orb in a photo. However, when you lay in bed at night, and feel the mattress dip beside you, and feel that cold tender hand on your cheek, you cannot help but feel comforted by the unknown. _____________________________________________________________

You see the dead, he’s a metaphorical ghost. A husk of a man, who’s emotion only shines through his eyes, and who’s only romantic actions lie between his finger and the trigger of a gun. Tensions are high, and you have to lie low. Will you see through him, or does the mask cover all?

_________________________________________________________

This is my first fanfiction on Tumblr, so I'm still getting used to the formatting. Criticism is always welcome, I desperately need it. If you read, enjoy!

TW: This fanfiction will contain graphic descriptions of violence, blood, wounds, and other potentially triggering things. This particular chapter has death, and gore.

Reader is AFAB, but they/them pronouns are used. "Rookie" is the readers nickname.

______________________________________________________________

The cold has settled into your bones, and created icicles on your eyelashes. This is the kind of cold that comforts the sleeping, or the dead, and you may find yourself as the latter here soon. The wind has only exacerbated the chill in your body, and yet you can’t even shiver. The man in front of you is too observant, and he’s not in a good mood, and so he will definitely call you out on any signs of weakness. You tighten your jaw to stop the chattering in your teeth, and hold your gun close to your chest. You have long since ran out of ammo, but it’s something to ground you. You squint your eyes in an attempt to see through the heaves of snowfall, the man in front of you stops.

“Keep up, we’re almost there.” Ghost turns his head to look at you through his peripherals,

“Don’t slow down now.”

You can only bring yourself to nod.

You both continue walking in the snow, the larger man in front of you is surprisingly silent as he glides through the snow that’s deep enough to reach your knees. You, on the other hand, enjoy the soft crunch underneath your boots. Ghost holds his fist up next to his head, you stop. He raises his weapon, looks through the scope, and takes a silent shot. A man falls out of a tree. Ghost continues walking, calmly stepping over the body. You walk behind, trying not to look too closely at the blood staining the crisp snow. Maybe the cold would keep him intact enough for his family to hold an open-casket funeral, if he had one. That’s the only semblance of care you hold for him, your job doesn’t really allow for such trivial feelings like remorse or guilt. Or even, God forbid, sadness for a fallen enemy.

Your gun did a lot of talking. And you didn't want to stop and think about what that entailed.

-

Your cheeks feel stiff with cold, and you’re sure if you take your gloves off too rough your fingers would fall off. The snow on your boots and jeans started to melt onto the cabin's floor, slowly thawing you out. Ghost squatted next to a small potbelly stove, poking and prodding at the embers inside, attempting to make a fire out of waterlogged wood. Neither of you exchanged words, but the aggressive nature of Ghost’s jabs at the coals said enough. The mission went to shit, like it always seems to do. Then, he’s going to blame you for the failure. And then you’re going to argue, and then Price saves both your asses, and then the next mission comes. And the cycle continues. Except, Price hasn’t talked to either of you on your comms yet, not even static. They’re waterproof, so they’re not broken, so only time will tell when you get a good enough signal. With snow like this, it could be a few days.

Task Force 141 was separated during their latest mission in northern Europe, it was an attempt to break apart a continent-wide drug smuggling ring that ran from western Russia to France, and you all failed. They got the jump on you guys, and now you’re stuck fighting Russians in the winter. Isn’t there a lesson against that?

You stare at your hands in your lap, and wonder about frostbite. You think back to the time in Freshman year Biology, when your teacher showed pictures of frostbitten hands and toes, the skin peeling off, and the muscles turned necrotic. You suddenly feel pins and needles in your feet, and wonder if you can even walk.

You look up at Ghost, he’s staring intently into a small fire now. The logs must not have been too wet.

“Thank you.” You say in a small attempt to break the tension, but attempting to douse Ghosts’ anger was like throwing a water balloon into a pit of lava.

Ghost throws the fireplace poke next to the stove, and looks up at you. He stares for just a moment (he seems to have a problem with that), and stands up as if to intimidate you. This is usually where the arguing begins. But, in a moment of weakness, the man in front of you says,

“You’re welcome. And while you’re warming up, don’t get the fucking floor wet.” The words sound like venom.

“Yes sir.” you mock a salute to him, as he walks to the window leading outside.

Ghost holds his weapon to his chest, and stares out the window.

“You know, we would have been warm at home by now if you hadn't-"

There he fucking goes. The cycle continues.

“If I hadn’t what? Done my job? I took the shot, like the captain told me to, Lieutenant.” You spat.

“And you missed!” Ghost turns from the window and looks in your direction, “What good is doing your job if you’re absolute shite at it!”

“Oh boo hoo, are you just mad that he gave me the job of sniper instead of you? You scared that the captain will replace you?” You stand now, on unsteady feet, the pins and needles intensify.

“Replace? Yeah, like the captain would even think about replacing me with the likes of you. He was testing you, private, to see if you were any good, and you failed. Be grateful if you even have a place on this team when we get back to base. If we even get back.” Ghost spat.

Ouch. you weren’t hurt by the idea that you weren’t good enough (you have already run those thoughts over a thousand times), it was more so the look of disappointment in Captain Price’s eyes when he saw you next. And the idea that you wouldn’t make it home to see that look of disappointment.

You knew you were in the wrong, you did miss that shot, but goddammit you were not going to admit it to this smug motherfucker.

Ghost took your silence as a win for him. He sat down on a stool next to the window, placed his gun in his lap, and continued looking outside.

You sat back down on the floor, and took off your gloves, shoes, and wet socks. Your hands were swollen, and your feet must have fallen asleep. With the items in your hands, you unsteadily crawled towards the stove.

You set the socks flat on the floor in front of you, and your boots next to them, and the gloves last. All in a neat pile.

You were so close to the fire you could feel the heat singing your eyelashes. The heat felt nice.

“If you sit any closer I’ll have to carry you home in a jar.”

You looked back at Ghost, standing next to the window.

His vacant eyes scoping the world outside, and his trigger finger ready to pull.

You scooted away from the fire.

#simon riley angst #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #slow burn #angst angst angst #afab reader #call of duty mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #mw2 2022

[brokenbeskar]

Temporary

Chapter 12 of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 4.7k A/N: WHEW it's been awhile again woops! Sorry this is a shorter one, I'm already writing the next part though so hopefully it shouldn't be too long before the next update. I realized recently while reading other fics that as much as i love a good long chapter, i prefer the shorter ones because theyre easier to read. ALSO this was the only good place to end this chapter (you'll see what i mean) anyway! Thank you all for your kind comments on the last chapter I appreciate you all <3 Hope you enjoy!

 “What’s going on?” You demand more than ask for an answer. The urgency in his voice causes your own panic to surge in your throat.

And then you hear a branch snap behind you. 

You whip around to look behind you, but there's nothing. 

“Coordinates! Now!” You barely hear the mandalorian shout through the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, but it’s enough to kick you into gear. 

You quickly punch your coordinates into your vambrace and send them his way, before rushing to scan your surroundings when you hear more rustling in the distance. 

“Be quick.” You warn him through the comm, with a shaky exhale “I don’t think I’m alone out here.” 

You aren’t one to lose your composure easily, but something about the panic in the mandalorian’s voice–the fear. It’s so unlike him and that alone is enough to send a sharp chill through your veins. 

“I’m not far. Stay put.” He barks through the comm, and the static stops when he signs off.

The silence is deafening. Stay put. Easier said than done. Every part of you is telling you otherwise. You glance up to the shredded bark above you. It’s not safe to stay put. You pull the kid closer to your chest and cautiously scan the dense line of trees, barely even breathing so you can hear anything before it can even think about sneaking up on you. 

Not even a minute has passed, but Maker it feels like an eternity. Fuck it, you’re going to head back towards the creek. It’s not that far from the coordinates you sent, the Mandalorian was smart enough to find you, and truth be told, you were starting to feel far too claustrophobic in these trees. 

Just as you go to take a step in the direction of the creek however, you hear more rustling from behind you, but this time when you turn you see something dash just past your vision. You don’t hesitate a second to pull out your blaster, pointing towards where you saw the shadow and–

And then it’s gone. 

Like it was nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. Only you can still hear whatever it is somewhere in the dense treeline. You take a couple steps back slowly, quickly shifting the aim of your blaster to either side of you. Darting from one spot to the next, trying desperately to make out where this damn thing is hiding. The nature of the forest makes it sound like it's coming from everywhere all at once. 

Cautiously you just focus on one step back at a time. You didn’t have a choice now, you needed to get into some kind of clearing for visibility’s sake. You need a clear shot at whatever it is that's out here with you. One more slow step–

SNAP

Your heart jumps to your throat with the sound echoing through the trees like a damn gunshot, you don’t even have time to register if it came from you, or someone else before you see a shape dart past the trees again. Much closer this time. 

You shoot blindly in the direction you think it went, but nothing but bark splitters from your shot. You don’t waste a second before turning around and sprinting as quick as you can towards the creek, the child pressed tight against you. 

And then you find yourself hoping the Mandalorian reaches you quicker than you originally were hoping when you hear whatever it is following close behind you, snapping through the branches and tearing through the bark behind you. You don’t even turn to look, you just need to get out of there, and fast. 

You dip frantically between trees, under branches, and over roots. You’re not even sure you’re heading in the right direction. Your vision tunnels to any clear space between two trees and can dive through. The child in your arms lets out small sounds of distress and you can only keep your clutch on him as you keep running, the creature only a few paces behind you. 

You think you can see a clearing ahead of you, just a few feet away where the light coming through the line of trees seems brighter than anywhere else in the forest. You quickly pick up the pace, careful to avoid colliding directly with any foliage. You hear him before you see him, the Mandalorian is catching up, you can hear his rising phoenix somewhere above the treeline, and he’s close. Thank the Maker. He shouts to you when he catches sight of you and dives down into the treeline to grab you. 

You hear whatever it is behind you let out a horrible screeching sound, and it sends a chill through your bones. You hear it crashing through the trees behind, the horrible rip and tear through the bark and the snapping beneath its weight just as the Mandalorian reaches to grab you. You turn your head for just a moment, you want to know how close it is, want to know what it is that's following you. 

What a mistake that was. 

You instantly trip just before the Mandalorian can grab you, and by instinct you reach out and grab at him, snatch a handful of the cape bunched up by his neck in an attempt to catch yourself. Instead you throw him off balance and next thing you know, you’re both tumbling through the forest floor, in the chaos hes not able to disable his boosters, so the both of you end up slamming tree, against tree, before quickly being redirected in a different direction, like Mandalorian pinball.

 You’re spinning and tumbling so fast you can’t even see where you are or what's going on, the only thing you can hear above the roar of his rising phoenix is the pained grunts from him and yourself and a shriek from the child. It’s a blur of brown and green and grey, and you think you're going to be sick until suddenly there’s a long flash of blue–and you realize you're free falling. What you know must be seconds feels like eternity as the three of you burst through the treeline, and directly off a cliff. The air stops short in your lungs, stolen away in the sudden loss of gravity.

With the three of you still spinning, your free fall is short lived, his boosters end up accelerating you in the wrong direction, and you go slamming painfully right into the rocky cliff side. You aren’t really sure what happens next. You get a couple flashes of brown, dirt filling into your helmet, pain, and the repeated reminder to protect the kid at all costs. 

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

You startle awake on the dirt ground, your heart kickstarts back to what it was during the chase, and you scramble to try to get to your feet in a panic. 

“Relax. You’re safe.” A familiar modulated voice tells you, and you shoot your gaze over to see the Mandalorian sitting on the other side of the fire. 

Fire? You realize you can’t see shit. Your visor is caked in so much dirt from the fall it's making the picture all blown out and fuzzy. You quickly run your gloved hand over the front and wipe away what you can for the moment. 

You take a quick look around and realize not only is it dark out now, but you’ve been out long enough for the Mandalorian to clear out a small camp and assemble a fire. He’s got his pack open, his medkit out and rummaged through, you see why when you notice the kid with a couple bandages sitting happily next to him kicking his feet while he pokes at the fire with a long stick. 

You slowly relax and settle down to sit on the dirt, sticking one leg out in front of you when you realize how much pain you're in.

“How long was I out for?” You ask, absentmindedly running a hand over your right arm to make sure you’re still intact. 

“Few hours.” He replies plainly, watching the kid intently probably to make sure he doesn’t burn himself. 

You groan and lay back down onto your back. Maker, everything hurts. You feel like that's becoming more common these days, more often than not you and the Mandalorian are getting into some kind of trouble that results in either you, him, or the both of you seriously beat up. You’re exhausted. 

“Get some rest.” He finally looks up at you, “It’s best we stay here until morning.” 

You loll your helmet in his direction, feeling the dirt grind against the back of it, “you seemed like you were in a rush to get out of here earlier, now you want to stay until morning?” 

He tilts his helmet to motion to where his rising phoenix sits propped up next to him.

“Rising Phoenix got damaged in the crash.” He looks in the direction you assume the three of you fell from, “It’s going to take us a couple days to get out of here.”

You sigh and look up towards the stars twinkling in the distance. 

“So much for an easy job” You scoff to yourself, and the Mandalorian hums in agreement. 

You listen to the crackle of the flames from the fire, as you continue to stare out to the stars. You shift your eyes, without moving your helmet to watch the Mandalorian and the child out of the corner of your visor undetected. You can’t help but be intrigued by him, he sits intently watching the fire appearing as calm as ever. You can see his chestplate move slightly with each breath he takes, the reflection of the flame shifting slightly as he breathes. 

It amazes you, how calm and collected he can be after everything that just happened, how he manages to stay so put together despite everything going to shit. Then you remember how he sounded earlier, how his voice sounded earlier today–panicked and urgent. You find it weird he hasn’t mentioned anything about it yet.

“What happened out there?” You finally decide to ask, “When you were out there alone, why did you comm me?” 

He doesn’t look up from the fire, continues peering into the flames.

“I saw something.” He tells you, “I’m not so sure it’s as relevant as I first thought though.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t and the two of you sit in silence longer than you’d like. 

“Well…what was it?” You finally ask, turning your head to look at him fully.

He looks up from the flames for a moment to regard you, as if debating whether or not to tell you, and you find yourself growing impatient. You feel the two of you have been through enough that he can trust you. Not to mention whatever it was seemed pretty serious, you feel like you have a right to know.

“I saw an imperial shuttle in the forest.” He finally relents. 

“Imperial?” You immediately sit up to face him fully. You find yourself even more confused now, a million questions burning on the back of your tongue, “The empire is long gone, it was probably abandoned.” You try to reason.

“No. The empire is very much alive.” He’s quick to assure you, “The ship was operational, just idle. I saw heat signatures from where I was hiding out. I couldn’t get close, I didn't want to risk it.” You sit there perplexed for a moment. You find yourself with more and more questions with each passing moment. You had heard of some remaining imperials scattered throughout the galaxy, but nothing to be worried about as far as you knew. And what would they be doing here? More importantly, why would this shake him up to that degree? 

It’s only at this moment you realize just how much you still don’t know about him.

“Do you…have trouble with the empire?” You ask with a slight tilt of your helmet. You were desperate for information, but you didn’t want to press any further than necessary, worried he might shut down completely if you try your luck. 

“They’re after the kid.” He nods in the direction of the child, “An imperial warlord by the name of Moff Gideon has been after us since I took the child in my care.” He turns back to face you fully. 

“When I saw it and realized it was operational, I got worried this job was a setup to get the kid.” He explains.

Suddenly everything makes a little more sense now. His sense of urgency, his worry about the child…But to think this whole time you’ve been traveling with him he never once brought it up.

“What do they want with him?” You watch as the child in question tilts his head at you with an inquisitive stare. 

“Not sure,” The Mandalorian admits, “But I assume it has something to do with his powers.” 

“Powers?” You nearly shout in shock, “What do you mean ‘powers’?!” 

“It’s why I’m looking for a jedi to take him on.” 

You sit there absolutely dumbfounded. You’ve been traveling with the two of them for months now and somehow this is the first time you’re hearing about any of this. 

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” 

“It didn’t come up.” 

“I feel like that is important information for me to know.” 

He stays silent for a long while, and you think that might be the end of the conversation until he speaks up. 

“I’m sorry.” He starts, looking back to the fire, "You’re right, that is important information for you to know if you're going to be traveling with us.” He pauses and looks back to you, “I didn’t think about it especially with everything else going on, so I’m sorry.”

You stare back at him in disbelief. It felt sort of out of character for him, or at least…felt out of character for how you imagine him. Ultimately, it didn’t change anything. The reality is you’ve been unknowingly putting yourself at risk by traveling with him, making yourself a target to the empire just by working with him. You don’t really care though. You appreciate his apology more than you thought you would. You feel like if a similar conversation would have happened earlier in your time traveling together, he would have doubled down and not admitted fault or acknowledged your feelings. More than that, you're surprised how readily you're willing to fully accept his apology. 

It’s interesting just how quickly things between you evolved, you wonder how much of it is him and how much of it is just you. A part of you knows you are particularly critical of him, resistant to see the best in him. You can’t help it. You find it so difficult these days to fully trust anyone, especially him, and you’re realizing how much the two are still truly getting to know each other. So much of him is still shrouded in mystery for you, like some kind of armored enigma that simply exists next to you. 

It doesn’t help that some part of your brain still hasn’t fully registered the reality of him–he doesn’t feel real. You don’t fully comprehend that he’s a person under all that armor, that he too has thoughts, feelings, and memories as complex as your own, that his heart probably pounds as much as yours does in times of stress. 

You’re realizing this whole time you’ve been almost defiantly resistant to seeing him as a person, you see him more like a passing shadow, a ghost, noise in the background of things you have to do. He’s just kind of…there. Like one day you’ll wake up alone in your old ship again, like him and the kid never truly existed in your life. It all feels so…temporary, you realize. Him, the kid, you, the job–like nothing has any real consequence, like you’re just going through the motions now…

“It’s okay.” You finally tell him with a nod, “We’ve been busy.” Your gaze settles into the flames in front of you. You watch as the flames dance and shake, the wood pops and small embers quickly dissipate as they hit the cold air. He doesn’t say anything back, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while. 

“Did you see what it was?” You finally ask, bringing yourself back to the present, and feeling the need to fill the silence.

He doesn’t reply, just looks back up at you, as if wordlessly asking for you to elaborate. 

“The creature that was after us. Did you see what it was?” 

“Didn’t get a good look at it.” He admits, ��What information did you get when you first heard about it?” 

You shake your head, “The manager at the coffee shop just said it was a customer rumor. I never had a description other than what the mayor gave us.” 

He makes a noise in acknowledgement, returning his gaze to the flame. 

“Why did you go to a coffee shop if you hate caf?” He suddenly asks you out of nowhere, and you’re blindsided.

You freeze. How do you even begin to explain it to him? There's no way he would understand. You aren’t even necessarily sure you know yourself. It feels so ridiculous if you were being honest with yourself. You weren’t really thinking about the job at all, just reminiscing about when life was more simple, when life was easy. When it felt like you had no worries other than being bored. 

You stare into the orange flame of the fire between you. 

Your earlier reflection weighs heavy on your mind.

Temporary.

The word echoes in your mind and you let out a deep breath. 

“Felt like home.” You finally admit. You reduce all your complex thoughts and feelings of longing and nostalgia into those three words. You still aren’t sure he’ll understand, but you figure it’s better than leaving him waiting. 

You sit for a second in the silence, you think back to your time on Naboo, the time you feel like the trust between the two of you peaked, when you were at your most vulnerable and he met you halfway. When you spilled your tears on his shoulder, and he only pulled you in closer. When you half-dazed and nearly drunk, sobbed your feelings into his arms and he readily held them for you while he walked you back to the ship, comforting you with understanding and words that you still repeat to yourself on occasion. 

Temporary…

You think again, but you realize it only feels that way because you make it that way. You put up walls and avoid the truth. You haven’t bothered to see him as a person because you were avoiding him . You didn’t want to see him or the kid as anything other than temporary. 

But you made a choice. You made the choice to continue to travel with them, you made the choice to stay . 

You take a deep breath in.  

“My um… my parents were mechanics. I hated the work, so I used to run a little caf take-out window out the side of my parents' hangar.” You force yourself to open up. Decide at that moment to make a conscious effort. 

He tilts his head at that. You worry for a second he can hear your thoughts, that he knows the internal struggle you just went through, and is caught off guard by the fact you’re deciding to open up.

“Why, if you don’t like caf?” He asks.

You find yourself chuckling both in relief that he can’t hear your thoughts, and the simplicity of the question.

“I used to love it,” You explain, looking down at your dirty, gloved hands, “Used to love the taste, the smell, making it–I loved everything about it. I was always trying to come up with new things to try, find new ways to brew it, and find what tasted best. I took a lot of pride in my work.” 

He watches you closely while you speak, but doesn’t say anything. He just…let’s you talk. He waits for you to elaborate, to tell more about whatever information you’re willing to offer. If you didn’t know any better, you would think it’s because he likes hearing you talk, that he also wants to get to know you better and open up. 

“And I loved my customers.” You continue unprompted, “ I was in a commuter town, and because of my parents’ hangar, a lot of the customers who stopped by were only there while they waited for repairs or fuel. At the time I had never been off-world, so I would always pester them to hear their stories about the rest of the galaxy.” You can’t help the smile that forms on your face as your reminisce. 

“What changed?” He asks. 

You find yourself caught off guard, your smile quickly fading. You feel all your walls suddenly come back up at once. It’s not his fault, and you know that, but it was too much for you to unpack yourself, let alone to him. You clasp your hands together and squeeze, your gloves straining at the force. The sour feeling in your stomach returning all at once.

“Too much.” Is all you offer him, looking down at the ground besides you, avoiding his gaze.

he doesn't pry. Part of you hopes that since Naboo, the two of you have gotten better at figuring out each other's boundaries–when it's okay to ask questions, and when it's best to let the silence settle. You hope he doesn’t take it personally. That he understands that you each had your own struggles and traumas to work through, and that you respected one another to give the space to do that. 

"we should get some rest." he reminds you, more gentle this time. 

You give him a silent nod of your helmet and settle back into the dirt. you watch out of the corner of your eye as the Mandalorian does the same, laying on his back into the dirt but shoving his pack underneath his helmet for a makeshift pillow. The kid is quick to follow, nestling in the crook of his arm. which the Mandalorian is quick to pull him into his side. you watch as the kid lets out a little yawn before his eyes quickly begin to fall shut. 

It wasn't exactly ideal, sleeping in the dirt like this, but the warmth of the fire is a luxury you will never take for granted. you rest your hands over your stomach as you peer back out into the starry night sky. It's funny, knowing that one of those stars is your old home. it still feels unreal to you still. that somewhere, on one of those tiny specs of light, your hometown rests without you. 

you can feel the dirt caked under your clothes, an uncomfortable grit under your gloves between your fingers, at the edges of your boots, scratching at your neck between the fabric of your under clothes. you take a deep breath, trying to close your eyes to sleep, but instead finding them open again, full of starlight. 

involuntarily your mind wanders to home, to your little caf window. You wonder if it's still there, if your parents kept it or just started using it for storage. you wonder how your favorite regulars are doing–if they're still alive, if anyone in your hometown thinks about you at all, or miss the taste of your caf, or if they simply found somewhere else to get it. 

Your thoughts float to your favorite regular. The one who you would wait weeks–sometimes months in anticipation for them to show up again, the one you would go out of your way to make their drink extra special when they stopped by, get caught up talking to for hours, and rarely ever charge, despite them trying to pay you anyway…

***

"Is it too late for me to buy a cup of caf from you?" a voice rings out from the customer window.

you reply with your back turned as you finish dumping the cleaner from one of your brewers, "I'm so sorry but unfortunately I am closed for the night–" you turn to address them fully, but freeze in your tracks when you see a familiar armored figure leaning against the window frame, holding your curtain open just enough for him.

"Hey..." he says quietly, almost shy when you turn to face him, trying to play it cool.

"Ko'van?" you gasp excitedly, dropping everything to rush over to the window, leaning enthusiastically over the counter, "What are you doing here?"

He chuckles lightly, "Well, funny thing…you see, I was working a job in the outer rim and my ship just so happened to get caught up in an asteroid field. Sooo I figured since I needed some repairs anyway, I uh…" his tone lowers to something much softer, much more genuine, "I figured I would stop by to pay you a visit." he leans forward a bit closer to you over the counter. 

your heartbeat quickly picks up at the change in his tone and the sudden proximity. You find yourself completely in awe whenever you see him again, like you're seeing him for the first time, like you forget what it's like to be in his presence, drawn to him like a magnet, the haunting void of his visor, the intimidating nature of the armor.

But then a playful smile fills your features. you see right through him.

"There's nothing wrong with your ship is there?" You squint at him, leaning in a little further, accusatory. 

He looks taken aback for a second, caught off guard by your accusation, and he fumbles, "w-what? of course there's something wrong with my ship, I told you, I got caught up in an asteroid field–" 

"You also told me you're an exceptionally skilled pilot…" You stand straighter, crossing your arms in front of you, reminding him of his attempts to brag the last time he visited, "so either you aren't as skilled as you say you are…"

He goes to defend himself, but you cut him off before he can, "Or," you uncross your arms, leaning across the counter again with a soft smile, "You just needed an excuse to come see me again." 

His shoulders instantly relax, letting out a breath as shakes his head with a quiet chuckle. 

"So, can I still get some caf?" he tilts his helmet playfully, effectively admitting defeat by changing the subject. 

"You hate caf." you laugh.

"I like it when you make it." his voice drops to a more flirtatious tone, and he leans in, an arm propped up on the frame of your window.

"I'm closed." you pretend to be annoyed, turning around to wipe down a counter.

"What time are you off then?" 

you pause wiping the counter, smiling wide to yourself. It was impossible to resist him. With a deep breath in, you throw your rag over your shoulder, turning back around to face him fully. 

"I can try to wrap everything up ten, is that okay?" 

"I'd wait years if you asked me to." 

"Would you shut up?" you laugh balling up your rag and chucking it at him playfully.

 he catches it with a laugh, and carefully sets it back down on your counter. 

"I'll see you in a bit." he tells you enthusiastically. he lingers just a moment longer, hesitating, just watching you, like he can’t bear to be away from you, before he finally lets the curtain to your window close, and waits for you to finish closing.

***

SNAP 

You shoot awake at the sound, not realizing you had dozed off. The Mandalorian is already on high alert, blaster drawn and the child pulled tight in his arm. 

“What was that?” You try to ask, still trying to regain your bearings as you hear more rustling through the treeline. 

The Mandalorian doesn’t look at you, he keeps his visor trained on the treeline, focusing. The rustling continues, circling the treeline around the clearing of your camp. It sounded big and just as you put the pieces together, the Mandalorian’s voice drops down to a dangerous level as if reading your mind…

"it's back." 

*** Prev - MASTER - Next (coming soon!) Taglist: @mysun-n-stars , @tanzthompson , @janebby , @um-well

#the mandalorian #din x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x you #mando x reader #memories reforged #MR

[bthump]

This isn’t specifically about you and more about the anons, because I’ve noticed that you sometimes get requests to respond to meta posts other people make and something about that makes me a bit uncomfortable. Since your meta posts are widely liked by a big part of this community, it sometimes feels like you’re being kinda requested to „debunk“ other meta posts. Diversity in opinions is so important for a good fandom atmosphere and some of the anons you get seem to wanna stir up hostility and I don’t like it. Since I like some of your meta posts, but also find myself agreeing with other people, I just feel weird about this dynamic, you know? How do you feel about it?

I think that's a fair concern but honestly, I don't see it as inherently a problem. This might be my 00s internet bias here lol, but I tend to view meta on a public platform as fair game for response or external commentary - which includes my own posts. My meta is here to be read by anyone who wants to, and to provoke thought and discussion, and that's generally what I assume of others' meta as well.

Like I recognize that attitudes have changed in the era of mostly unmoderated spaces and reblogs and the lack of diverse comms with their own norms and discourse running rampant lol, and so it's often considered automatically rude to disagree with people now, but I think that can only extend so far. Like, I don't reblog posts just to disagree with them (unless they're a friend and I know they're cool with discussion) because I know it sucks when you keep getting notes from people who are liking or reblogging the take you disagree with, but I don't think that should mean not discussing other people's meta at all, as long as it's done respectfully of course.

And I understand why someone might want a second opinion on something they read. I think everyone should think for themselves and form their own opinions, and I completely agree that diversity of opinion is important in any fandom. But not everyone has confidence in their own analysis, or the learned skills for criticism, and I think it's reasonable to seek out other viewpoints and decide which seems most correct to you, or use them as boucing off points to figure out what you believe. I definitely don't want to be the only Berserk meta blog out there, and I'm more than happy to agree to disagree with most people. I'm not an authority on the story lol and people are free to agree or disagree with me however they see fit.

That said, I'm always a little wary about tone and intent, especially in Berserk fandom, because I'm not here to get into arguments and I try to make that clear. But I take most asks in good faith. Sometimes I might go a little too far with that lol, but honestly I'd rather come across as naive than hostile. If I found out that someone was trying to start a fight between me and someone else, or was using my posts to dunk on someone else, or if followers of mine took it as a cue to harass someone, I'd absolutely say something and stop answering those asks. (Hopefully we're all chill enough over here that this doesn't happen, btw. As far as I'm aware I've never incited anything like that and I've personally only ever seen fandom arguments started by people mad about Griffith fans existing, but tbf I also don't pay attention to whatever's happening outside of my dash.)

But yeah I don't think that's what's happening here, and I don't want to assume someone's trying to start shit unless there's clear evidence for that. Like in the last ask I got like this, the anon did specify that they agreed with the post they wanted me to comment on, and were just seeking more opinions/wondering what my own take was, and I think that's reasonable.

Idk, this is definitely one of those things where I know there are different valid opinions about etiquette. But I generally abide by the 'do unto others' rule, including here. I blog with the expectation that anyone can read what I write and agree or disagree, and that I might inspire other discussion. Sometimes I get nervous about being linked to notably hostile fan spaces, like the berserk reddit, but it has happened with virtually the same motivation as those anons (what do you guys think of this person's take?) and ultimately I'm fine with it, and even a little flattered.

All that said, at the end of the day I do think that it would be best for anyone who sends an ask referencing someone else's analysis to be specific about what they want to know, rather than a general 'what do you think of this?' question. Both because it shows why you're asking and what you're interested in and leaves less room for doubting your motivation, and because it makes it easier to answer.

#ask #anonymous #b #i don't necessarily want to encourage these types of asks so i'm not gonna post that last paragraph separately as a psa #but i don't want to tell anyone to refrain either as long as everyone's being chill about it #this is probably overly long lol but it's a fair concern and i want to address it as thoroughly as i can #theme: fandom

[wordstome]

🧸🪐❄️ 🥐 💖💖❕❕

babes I forgot that 50cal was a sideblog and went "omg another cherished mutual named rags!!" 💀

🧸 ⇢ what's the fastest way to become your mutual? oooooh. Honestly, just engage with me a lot. Kind of a no-brainer, but if you show up in my notifications a lot I recognize you and go :] cherished mutual. Never worry about spamming me!! Also helps if you reblog content from fandoms I'm interested in or general tumblr humor posts. Like if you put "by allah you people are dogs. I will reblog as usual" type posts on my dash I swear fealty to you

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now I kid you not, engaging with and making content for the COD fandom is really helping me a lot, so that's one. (I love this cozy little corner of the fandom.) Another is that I'm kind of in a more chill period of my life. I've been a student for like. 16 years straight, so it's nice to be taking a breather. And third, I don't think my social life has ever been better. It really helps to get out of the house and spend time with people I care about a lot &lt;3

🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh Oh, there's too many to count. But off the top of my head right now, it's a tie between no little german boy don't go to the weed cave and inshallah they find him. also, I don't count this one as it's not really a reference so much as one video that has become an inextricable part of my personality, but this specific video is the reason why I say "scheiße" instead of "shit" when something startles me, like losing my balance or dropping something etc. I can't explain why it cracks me up so hard, but it makes me laugh every time.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

Look. We all have that one, super-indulgent daydreaming scenario that we're more embarrassed to admit we have than most kinks. Mine is a kind-of harem fic with literally as many COD characters as I can cram into it (we're talking 141, vaqueros, warzone operators, ghosts) where MC kind of serves as a Penelope Garcia (from Criminal Minds) figure? In my mind MC only ever talks to them over their comms, and they're fun to talk to, easy to get along with, and very flirty. But none of them have ever actually met MC in person: they don't know what they look like or anything, they've only ever heard MC's voice. Shenanigans ensue. In terms of who I'd trust most to write this, I'd trust any of the authors I follow to write this, but if I must pick, it would be @danibee33. I love you girl &lt;3

Honorable mentions go to: pop star x König au written by @cookiepie111, hostage is "rescued" by König only for him to just. take you home and keep you by @gremlingottoosilly, König taming a barracks bunny by @kneelingshadowsalome, and "you cannot stand König because he's a weird little guy who gives off freak vibes but the two of you are stuck alone together on a lengthy mission in an isolated location and hmm. well maybe you can fuck him just once, what could go wrong? oh no, he's a freak (affectionate) and you might like him, actually" by @50cal-fullauto (lol)

(sorry for the all the tags. but I love you all so much. also, please don't feel any pressure: I don't expect you guys to write anything for these ideas, I just think that you guys would totally nail these concepts)

#THANK YOU RAGS ILY #vide0-nasties #answered #ask game

[adeadphish]

Sera sat silently in the newly constructed warmind jumpship's cockpit. It had been roughly a half an hour since she had parted ways with her fireteam following the chase for Eramis amidst the chaos of the battle for Seraph Station. She stared silently at the earth as her ship maintained a steady orbit, occasionally disturbed only the sound of warsat debris bouncing off the ships hull.

She had yet to pull the chain mail hood down and remove the lupine helm that adorned her head, the faint gleam of its illuminated eyes reflected in the otherwise clear view in front of her ship from its windscreen. Her eyes darted from the Traveler, now hovering in orbit, the trail of atmosphere that followed its launch, and finally, the hole in the clouds over the now exposed Last City.

She was at a loss, just as adrift as her ship as it coasted through space. Her ghost materialized shortly after they idled just on the edge of Earth's gravitational field. It nudged her gently several times, as if its silent plead for attention was meant to match the cat-like appearance of its shell.

After the third attempt to snap his guardian out of her fog, Sera snapped back to reality, a fist slamming into the dash board of the ship, narrowly missing a control panel. The impact followed by an intense scream that reverberated into her mask, echoing into the dead air of an open comm with no connected and listening ghosts or guardians.

The ghost recoiled as Sera's scream gave way to sobbing, before it carefully moved closer, dematerializing the helmet and gently pulling away her hood with his tractor beam to free his Guardian from the confines of a stuffy helm and into the cool, recycled air of the single pilot cockpit.

Sera did not respond but buried her head in her hands before beginning to take deep breaths, trying to steady herself. Her whole body shook as she let everything within her release. Her Ghost gently moved closer, humming softly as it rested next to her, like the companion animal its little black shell emulated.

With some time to just be with her little light beside her, Sera lifted her head, her eyes puffy and the Grey X of war paint between her eyes now significantly smeared. The Ghost rose into the air and emitted a dull glow that cleared Sera's eyes. While it couldn't clean tears and displaced facial cosmetics, it could help keep his guardian from the tolls such a breakdown caused to the body.

Sera looked the small robot in its yellow, feline eye and managed to softly say, "thank you". It chirped its acknowledgement, "will you be alright? Losing Rasputin and the shock of almost losing the Traveler has taken a toll on everyone."

Sera took a moment to reflect. Rasputin was one of the oldest allies she had known since her time as a new light, when her first explorations among the mass emergence of guardians almost a decade ago helped reawaken the Warmind. Losing him hit her almost as hard as the loss of Cayde-6 did and she remembered what happened back then. Her personal collapse and attempt to flee her responsibility as a Guardian through self imposed exile, only to be pulled back when the recon force of pyramid ships removed planets from the Sol System and the advance of Humanity's foes brought the threat of the Vex to the Last City itself.

She remembered her resolve then and her gaze hardened on the Traveler before she firmly stated, "I should be!" She took her grief and concentrated it into her heart like fuel to the fire that drove her to fight. If Red was gone, she would make damn sure he didn't sacrifice himself for nothing.

She opened her ships' navigational director, only to feel the air rush out of her, resolve chilled by pure terror. Across the system, hostile vessels were being marked closing in from all sides, reports of a massive force amassing near Jupiter and advancing at sunlight speed. Vanguard channels all pinging with rapid transmission.

All of this could mean only one thing: the invasion had arrived in full. The war was about to begin!

Shaking off any lingering doubts, Sera readied her ship to leave for the H.E.L.M. Her ghost looked at her, surprised by the rapid away of emotional shifts. "Are you serious? Do you really feel ready?!"

Sera gritted her teeth, activated the short range jump systems and nodded firmly, "We don't have as much time as we thought. We need to make all the preparations we can, now!"

The ship roared to life as the engines fired up and everything lurched into motion, making the jump to the moon and the mobile base in its orbit. The Ghost nodded and chirped, "and do you have a music choice for these preparations?"

Sera thought on it briefly before responding, "something fast, empowering, maybe befitting a spirit of resistance?" The Ghost indicated confirmation before vanishing behind the pilot seat and into the small crew quarters in the aft cabin of the vessel. It flew to an engram wired into the ship and gave it a short zap. The vehicle was filled with the aggressive twang of a guitar, starting rock power ballad from before the golden age

Seradidnt know what was coming for her, but she knew she only had one option when the final conflict, fight. As the song gave way to a repeating phrase declaring, "no one is going to take me alive" and "you and I must fight to survive" the ship dropped from ftl and moved to dock in the H.E.L.M

In the week to follow, the intrepid hunter would go on a massive venture to secure all the gear, weapons and data she could before the Black Fleet Arrived.

Too be continued in Destiny 2 Lightfall ....

#destiny 2 #destiny oc #phish writes #original writing #original character #Destiny OC #Sera the Hunter #oc writing

[ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole]

Lying in the Rain

Meet Cute Monday 46

Masterlist

MCM Masterlist

……………………………

After the searing heat of the long summer, the deluge of rain of September was bliss. Cooling the scorching close humid air of Gotham City to something fair more bearable. The dark clouds finally opened to push the heat away.

Marinette stood in her tiny apartment gazing out wistfully at the rain streaming heavily from the sky. She had moved into her miniscule place after university after securing a job at a renowned tailors in the city who was willing to take her on as an apprentice. She could have done this elsewhere, but the architecture and chaotic city pulled her towards it somehow. After Paris and studying in Milan, Gotham felt like it was calling her.

The summer in the apartment was inhumane. With a broken air con unit and the lack of breeze turned it into a sweat filled sauna with her small fan just pushing the hot air around, so much so Marinette had found a gym (with working air con) which she had camped out in too many times. Shopping (ill-advised) late at night to avoid the heat trap she was meant to live in.

With the air cooling rain falling, to Marinette it looked like heaven. In a flurry of movement, Marinette rushed around the place opening the few windows as far as they would open to let the fresh air through her home. Occasionally, Marinette leant her arm out just trying to feel the chilled water against her feverish skin.

Sighing with the limited ability, Marinette was stuck with an idea. She smiled fondly down as the kwami huddled near an open window enjoying the refreshing feeling of the damp air, darting out occasionally to dance amongst the wilting flowers hanging from the window frame, only to return when thoroughly wet. Agreeing with their sentiments, Marinette placed her phone on the kitchen counter and grabbed her keys.

"Hey Duusu, I'll be back in a bit. Just heading up to the roof to enjoy the rain as much as you are doing."

"Okay, Marinette. I'll keep watch of the rest."

Patting kwami's head, Marinette beamed at her little charge before nodding as she left to ascend the final floors to the roof of the block of apartments to bask in the change of weather.

With the dramatic change in weather, Gotham's vigilantes celebrated. Games of tag in the rain were played as they patrolled. Hide and splash as they darted through the night sky. After the enduring heatwave, where even the basic crime decided it was too hot to occur, the cool water was a pleasant change. Especially since the big bad Bat had still enforced patrol in fully padded and lined suits.

Finally the torture from exercising in additional layers was over, and the unusual Gotham weather was retreating and the normal gloom returning. Whoops and hollers of relieved vigilantes could be heard just above the sounds of the rain.

Spoiler dashed over the roofs of her current patrol route, keeping an eye out for trouble as well as Red Robin and Black Bat. She knew her sibling besties were ganging up on her after she drenched them with water bombs 10 minutes ago. Just as she was about to grapple to the next building, something on the roof a few roofs over caught her eye. Pressing the comm's unit in her ear Spoiler softly spoke to Oracle, and the rest who were out.

"O, think I see a dead body a few roofs over, I'm goin' to investigate."

"Keep me informed, Spoiler. Red and Hood are closest to you, be ready. Call for backup if required."

With the following okays, and Oracle's reassurance, Spoiler silently darted cautiously towards the roof. Humor and fun parked for now as she checked out the situation. After quietly landing away from the body, Spoiler quickly hitched her grave to her belt and started to look around.

There seemed no obvious damage or sign of distress on the roof so far, and nothing suggesting a trap either. Content that she was unlikely to be ambushed, Spoiler approached the body to check for cause of death, or if they were dying quietly (which given the prone star shaped position was unlikely).

Gently treading in the forming puddles on the roof Spoiler approached at a slow speed, on edge as something didn't feel right. She placed a hand on her nunchucks, ready just in case.

A slight splash as her foot stepped in a large puddle and the head moved to look at her. Spoiler shrieked, probably deafening Oracle who was silently listening in in the wings, and jumped back grabbing her weapons. The body shot up as the shout Spoiler let out got lost behind the sound of the rain.

Large, doe eyed sapphire's shone up at her with glossy pink lips being worried as the body… no, woman, scrambled away from the purple clad vigilante.

Armed and poised to react, Spoiler observed the non dead woman.

She was drenched. Her white top clung to her small frame and her leggings highlighted the tone muscles of her leg. Her hair hung in strings and was plastered to her face, and neck as the rain ran races down her sodden body.

She also wasn't standing in an attack pose, if anything in a slightly defensive one but was mostly frozen back in shock that she was no longer alone on the roof.

"I… what… ummm… can I help you?"

The softly accented voice carried over to Spoiler but was lost to those not on the roof as the rain continued to pour.

"Ya not dead."

"... Noo? I'm alive…"

The puzzled look as the woman tilted her head in question. A small frown gracing her brow. It was cute.

"Ya were lying prone on the roof unmoving. I thought ya were dead or injured."

Spoiler put her nunchucks away and relaxed her body and she subtly moved closer.

"Oh.. Oh! No! It's just… I was… the rain is so soothing. My apartment is like a heat death trap and so close and the rain is heaven. I just wanted to soak it up."

"Oh."

The woman nervously played with her fingers and worried her lip more, looking younger than she probably was. A soft blush grew on her cheeks. Given the building was on the nicer side of the edge of the narrows it probably was smaller than what she could get if she chose to head into Jason territory, and probably cost more than it should too. Steph felt for her having grown up around her and spent one day at her mum's place before deciding that the Batcave and Tim's best were the best places to be. How anyone survived outside that Steph didn't want to know.

"Can I join ya, Zombie?"

"Zombie?"

"Yeah, you rose from the dead. Or maybe I should call you Siren since you have a watery alore about you."

A choked laugh escaped the Zombie Siren as the woman's eyes shimmered with mirth as her blush flushed her face again.

"Sure, why not."

Zombie Siren moved to lie back in the rain, basking in the shower that was robbing the city and air of the humid sticky heat. Spoiler followed quickly giggling at the simple child-like behaviour of lying in puddles. She smiled at her companion enjoying the sensation of the rain fall.

"So Siren, what's ya name really?"

"Marinette."

From there they fell into a comfortable silence, the odd question breaking the silence here and there but mainly just enjoying being in the moment. Spoiler slowly shifted more into Steph as Marinette murmured her opinions on the vigilantes' fashion and mini rants about the rogues. Hushed giggles escaped when Steph added her critique. It was a calming break.

A crackle burst in Stephs ear mid tirade on the Riddler's 'aesthetics'.

"Spoiler, stop the flirting. Red needs your assistance in Chinatown. BB is on her way too. The triad are up to something."

Steph let out a small groan as she reluctantly lifted herself up, before confirming she would make her way there. She looked as Marinette slowly shifted to sit too.

"Duty calls?"

"Duty call. Thanks for lettin' me join ya like this."

"Pleasure, Spoiler. You know where to find me when it rains."

The amused smirk on Marinette's face was enticing and Steph really wanted to wipe it away… though as Spoiler she really couldn't (less she wanted lectures from the Boss man, Babs, Tim and disappointed looks from Cass and Alfred). Sighing, she stood up.

"I'll see you around M."

With that Steph shifted back into Spoiler and unclipped her grapple and shot it into the darkened sky.

"Spoiler… Steph… She's apprenticing at the tailors B and the rest regularly. I'm sure that you can swing a visit with them and meet her properly."

Spoiler grinned as she grappled her way towards the returning chaos. She was sure that she could wrestle a visit with her besties. Babs was truly the best!!

"Thanks O! Ya a star!"

Marinette watched the (her) purple vigilante swing away in a familiar style. Her heart twisting as she missed the rush of flying through the Paris skyline. The evening was strange having Spoiler join her on the roof but she was fun.

Her snarky comments on the city's protectors and antagonists were brilliant. Talking fashion to someone who 'got it' filled Marinette with joy.

Shaking her head to try and convince herself that she wasn't going to catch feels, Marinette stood. The cool air and her damp skin started to send small shivers through her body as it adapted to the new colder air temperature.

Turning she walked towards the door on the roof to go back to her apartment. Marinette decided she needed to talk to Tikki through the tumbling, spiralling thoughts that rushed around her head. That the purple loving vigilante was flirting and that she wasn't misreading it.

She's sure the other kwami would no doubt voice their opinions too.

#maribat #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat au #ml x dc #dc x ml #meet cute #meet cute monday #marinette x steph #steph x marinette #stephinette

[wonderloste]

✂ ✧ ❥ ✖

gather around the campfire for story time meme.

✂ A fandom that you feel isn't open and accepting? i literally despise the d*ng*nr*npa fandom. i don’t follow people who are in it unless i know them personally, saying this as sb who i guess was a prominent part of the fandom for, like, 4 years in the rp comm. idk what it’s like now-a-days but the fandom was so vile back in like 2015-era that it made me actually actively hate the game. i never played v3 bc i just couldn’t stand dr anymore, which is a shame, bc i did - do, kinda - still like it in theory. :/ i hope it’s gotten better since back then, even if i never personally go back to it.

✧ Do you agree with reblog karma or is it forced interaction? This is prob one of my less popular opinions, but I hate reblog karma. I think it has little kindness towards people who have extreme anxiety disorders (read: me.) It’s gotten so bad that I don’t even reblog musings or anything from people anymore bc I’m scared they’re going to be mad about it. I understand feeling put out if ppl reblog smth without sending something to you multiple times, it sucks, but I also feel like reblog karma is passive aggressive and causes undue anxiety in the community. The idea sb is just using xyz as a meme resource if they reblog smth from x person seems ridiculous and dramatic to me. I wouldn’t call it forced interaction bc everyone just ends up reblogging it from the source if they don’t want to send something and then the og poster prob sees that anyways 😭 That being said it’s not like I’m going to go around fighting ppl on it. I just rb everything from the source even if I’m sending stuff bc rb karma anxiety. 🥴

❥ Has someone ever ruined an FC or character for you? Yes lmao. I’ve met a ton of nice and kind ppl on this site, but I’ve met equally as many nasty individuals who made me wanna personally kermit their face claim or portrayal of a character into the abyss. I still can’t look at some characters without remembering them and cringing. That said, these were mostly VERY very bad individuals and it hasn’t happened for a long time. I try to let prejudices towards fcs / characters go after a while cuz then it’s just me being petty.

✖ How has Tumblr RP changed since you started? People are less shitty tbqh. I know drama both petty and serious still happens now-a-days too, but a few years ago it honestly felt like people were ONLY on tumblr for drama and fighting. Couldn’t go a single day on my dash without seeing people at each others throats. Granted I realize I had like 4k followers on my blog at the time so I was seeing a lot more than most normal ppl, I suppose, but it was... so bad. It seems like tumblr has calmed down since then. It’s either a much nicer and more chill place or I’ve simply finally learned how to curate my space so I’m surrounded by ppl I like ehrjbgnnjegrn.

#I'M SORRY TO MY LIKE #2 DR MUTUALS I HAVE JNRJKGNKJNMH UR COOL I SWEAR #dr lives on buried in my heart #◟ ⋆ OOC › otome games are my thirteenth reason. #saltyspitoon meme — #juwul

[ffunkyspicyy]

valorant competitive rant

TLDR: I finally understood the definition of ‘ego-fragging duelist’ in one of my yesterday comp games. I need to rant, you don’t have to listen, but you can stick around.

agent select screen, I took Omen, my duo took KJ, and a random chose Gekko. So far so good, Player 4 and Player 5 were waiting till 1 second to instalock Jett and Reyna, no comms, no nothing. okay I guess? no heads-up on what you’re gonna play? nice.

it’s Pearl, we’re attacking. we got the site somehow (I’ll elaborate a bit later), only enemy KJ left alive, both our duelists died. I hear KJ, see her, whiff like I do sometimes. Jett immediately starts click-clacking his keyboard, “REP OMEN”, Reyna does the same thing. we won the round though, I dealt 120 on KJ and Gekko got the frag eventually.

Jett starts talking shit in voice chat, he speaks polish which I unfortunately don’t understand well, starts giving me shit not only for whiffing but also for not speaking polish. ok? sounds like a literal kid. I mute him and Reyna because they just straight up spam in text chat and give me shit for uhhh nothing, even though I’m playing my role, and I don’t see the point of listening to Jett whining because I don’t understand the language anyway.

now about us getting site control.

you know what our instalock duelists do?

Reyna, our 2nd and 3rd mass flash, lurks. sometimes he dies mid or another site, sometimes he gets frags. on attack. Reyna lurks. big brain moment.

what Jett does? anything but taking site. we stand B long waiting for her to dash, Gekko has flash ready for that, I have the smokes ready. but no, Jett just stands behind the pillar. so cute!

after we all die because defenders just pick us off while we wait for Jett to do something, he continues standing there. just chilling. then gets a pick or two, and dies. very impactful frags, good job, Jett.

now we’re on defence, finally! I wonder what our duelists do now?

can you guess?

both push out of site / mid / wherever they are, like they were supposed to on attack, get a kill or two, and die. the impact of these duelists is just... amazing. 

in the meantime, enemy Neon is taking space amazingly: she absilutely destroys our team and knows how to push site properly. I was so upset with our shitty duelists that I honestly was cheering for the enemy team at this point.

I don’t have good and consistent aim, that’s exactly why I intentionally play support roles: more often initiator or controller. I can clutch if needed, but I struggle with reaction time and hitting my shots. and during this game I finally understood the definition of ego-fragging, too bad that it cost me a loss. but whatever, I’m glad these two kids had a bad game and now are wondering “WhY Did I LoSE mY KD waS ALmoSt 2 🤡🤡🤡 ”

and I bet they’re blaming me for the loss, even though I played my role exactly like I’m supposed to. what can you do lmao

#Valorant #valorant rant #valo-RANT #instalock jett #duelists suck to be honest

[racingliners]

F1 Re-Watch 2013: Round 3 - China

I am FINALLY picking up my 2013 watch through again. This was always going to be a chilled out thing but just have no had the headspace lately bc of various life things constantly kicking me in the teeth 😭

Anyhow, despite still being early on in the season we’re already nearing the end of races I haven’t seen at all, but I obvs still know the main bits of what happened (Fernando winning, Seb and Lewis battling for P3). So, let’s finally jump in!

gonna say it again, the old F1 intro my beloved

also also this was the first race post Multi-21 (I did start this re-watch out of order, if you’re wondering why Malaysia is the first post in my tag) so I assume we’re going to get some spicy comms (or an attempt, since it’s Crofty and Brundle)

also also also, I legit miss Shanghai on the calendar. Maybe it’s nostalgia, but we had some really good races there, it’s a really good track.

aaaaand starting grid: Lewis on pole, Fernando in 3rd, Dan in 7th in a Toro Rosso, Jense in 8th Seb down in 9th... Jev in 15th 😭

(god it feels SO WIERD seeing Rosberg on the grid as a driver, does not compute)

lol Webber starting from the pits bc he ran out of fuel in quali.

oh, this was Lewis’ first pole for Merc 🥹🖤

[Formation Lap]: Helmet watch: I loved how Lewis’ yellow helmet with the red and green accents had a blue, green and amber multichrome visor to match. (Yes these are the important things that we discuss here at racingliners.tumblr.com)

Just F1 culture things: the mad dash of mechanics and engineers running from the grid to the garages.

“Whatever way round it was it was still a [Red Bull] 1-2 in Malaysia” oh we are getting some spicy comms after all 

Helmet watch 2: Seb’s red helmet is v pretty

[Start/Lap 1]: Lewis having a v zoomy start, we love to see it

While Raikkonen got dropped by both Ferraris

Meanwhile cars going three wide in the midfield bc insanity

oh no Force India on Force India violence at the last corner

[Lap 2]: Webber makes his first stop, inch resting

Man, the ever constant of Lewis and Fernando racing against each other

[Lap 3]: Lewis 8 tenths up on Fernando we love to see it

Livery watch: of the many iterations Team Enstone have raced under, the black and gold Lotus livery is very much one of my favourites (Pink Alpine will always be superior though)

[Lap 4]: damn Fernando really caught up with DRS

Seb finally making moves and passes Dan for 8th

[Lap 5]: ...not both Ferrari’s getting past Lewis on the main straight. what the DRS

meanwhile Seb got past Jenson, and passes Rosberg at the hairpin for 7th

[Lap 6]: and one of the Force India’s has a broken rear wing, and Mercedes just did a double stack

This race went from 0 to 100 very quickly

oh shit the Force India’s brakes are now on fire

Team Silverstone’s no good very bad Chinese GP

oh no it was Gutierrez who just ploughed into the back of him. whoops.

[Lap 7]: Alonso pits

I am barely paying attention to tyre compounds with all the demolition derby shit going on

aaaaand Lewis back to being the fastest on track. noice.

cut to Jev v Bottas for P11. ngl it’s very wild watching these races back knowing how some of these guys careers have unfolded a decade later.

(Jev’s a double FE World Champion, so fuck you Marko)

ahem back to racing

also hi Pastor Maldonado

[Lap 8]: Oh my god Hulkenberg is leading the race after all the pit stops and carnage what the fuck

but more importantly Seb P2 and Jenson P3 🥰

in reality Alonso is the net race leader bc everyone in front of him is yet to stop I’m just living in delusion

[Lap 9]: whoops some drivers allegedly used DRS in a yellow flag zone, that was silly

[Lap 10]: ngl, I really miss it when we had a legit mix of possible strategies (in this case a 2-stop vs a 3-stop). Pirelli make better tyres challenge

[Lap 11]: What is a polar bear (Di Resta) doing in Arlington, Texas?! (5th place).

Good for you though Team Silverstone I love you Team Silverstone

Livery watch: the glossy metallic blue with purple accents rbr I MISS YOU

[Lap 12]: of rip not Fernando being 1.6 seconds faster than Seb on his new tyres 😭

anyway now I’m finally paying attention, the soft and mediums were the tyre compounds for this race

[Lap 13]: Seb and Rocky team radio interactions my beloved 🥰

[Lap 14]: How the fuck is Hulkenberg still leading????

Meanwhile Alonso is just cutting through the field like butter fvhaeudhu. He’s up to 4th

[Lap 15]: lol rbr pitted Seb to get him out of Hulkenberg’s dirty air and he pits anyway

but Seb jumps him in the pits!

the devil works hard but RBR mechanics work harder

NOOOOO WEBBER CRASHED INTO JEV

back to back races of Red Bull on Red Bull violence. oof

“How does the car feel?” “Not too bad” HIS FRONT WING HAS BEEN SHREDDED

[Lap 16]: oh not Raikkonen going into the back of Perez

both incidents happened at turn 6, what was in the water in the lake in the paddock?

aaaand cut to a slow moving Webber (and a depressed looking Adrian Newey)

[Lap 17]: Oh shit there goes Webber’s right rear tyre, just... rolling across the track

[Lap 18]: Meanwhile, Jenson is in first so I think we should just stop the race and call it a day

There has been SO MUCH GOING ON

[Lap 19]: “Should they remove the car? It’s not on the racing line” My lord jesus christ IT’S ON THE TRACK CROFTY

Obviously you can’t see me as I’m typing this but I’m looking into the camera like I’m on the office

They haven’t moved the tyre either it’s just sat on the grass run off, that is NOT SAFE MY DUDES

[Lap 20]: Meanwhile Massa and Rosberg pit again

And Seb up into P5 🥰

“Button leads the race” STOP THE COUNT

“Alonso catching Button but he cannot pass him... Jenson Button doing a fine fine job” I love this song

[Lap 21]: ...nvm Fernando took the lead going into turn 1

It was wonderful while it lasted, considering the 2013 McLaren car was painfully average

Rosberg pits again???? I wondered why they cut to a bemused looking Merc pit wall

[Lap 22]: The synchronised Merc and Lotus pit stops *chef’s kiss*

Lewis comes out in 9th but considering the massive pace difference between old and new tyres he should be back on the top 5 pretty soon

[Lap 23]: oop Rosberg retires with a mechanical fault

mild shock, I just about understood when Jenson said over the radio. He didn’t sound like static for once

and Lewis overtakes Dan for 7th

[Lap 24]: Jenson pits for his first stop, and Fernando for his second

...Jenson and Grosjean under investigation for using DRS in a yellow flag zone 🤦‍♀️

Braincells boys, braincells

[Lap 25]: anyway hiiiii Bono

Just Lewis things: collecting fastest laps like pokemon

[Lap 26]: And Fernando moved into P2.

...and now he chases down Seb

man this race is just peak 2010′s F1. Fernando racing Seb and Lewis, Lewis chasing down Jenson (and Jenson’s car not being completely shit for once). Raikkonen just vibing and somehow being faster after he got a broken front wing and nosecone

also while I haven’t had my obligatory “TEEEEED” reaction, he is in the pitlane living his best life.

[Lap 29]: And Lewis passes Jenson on the main straight.

and we have passed half distance!

[Lap 30]: And Fernando takes the lead

“It’s Alonso, Hamilton and Raikkonen for the top 3″ damn Brundle’s third eye was wide open (spoiler alert, that’s our podium just with Lewis and Kimi swapped round)

[Lap 31]: that is a very tragic sight of Raikkonen passing Jenson with his very broken nosecone

[Lap 32]: Seb makes his second stop, but he still has to run the softs

and he’s already moving back up into 6th place

[Lap 33]: ...and now into P5

He is zooming 

[Lap 34]: Oh the old tyre strategy graphic!! I did not know I missed it until I saw it, it’s way easier to follow all the different strategies if they just have all the tyres drivers have ran thus far on screen 😅

[Lap 35]: Not Seb being 2 and a bit seconds faster than Jenson 😭 (a combo of 2 stop vs 3 stop, and it being the 2013 RBR vs the 2013 McLaren)

[Lap 36]: and unsurprisingly Seb passes Jenson for 3rd

The current race order being Fernando, Lewis, Seb, Jenson and Raikkonen

[Lap 38]: And Lewis makes what I think is his final stop

He comes out in 6th, behind Ricciardo

[Lap 39]: So Fernando has to stop again, but he has a decent gap over everyone else. Seb and Jenson who also have to stop again less so

“What’s the situation in the race?!” Ted is me and I am Ted. mainly because I started this after 10pm my time

Lewis once again collecting the fastest lap. Purple really is his colour.

‘Use of DRS in yellow flag zones for cars 1, 2, 7, 17, 19 and 23 will be investigated after the race’ I had to pause bc I couldn’t stop laughing.

That’s an awful lot of paperwork, the stewards are booked and busy bc Jenson and Jev were already on that list

so about a third of the grid potentially doing something very unavoidable. F1 is a Serious Sport™️

[Lap 42]: Anyway, Fernando makes his final stop, and only comes out in 2nd behind Seb.

[Lap 43]: And he once again passes Seb going into turn 1, so just second and third to sort out.

[Lap 44]: Raikkonen passes Jenson for 3rd at the last corner

[Lap 45]: ...and Lewis passes Jenson for 4th a few corners after

seeing your fave driver go from 3rd to 5th vs seeing your other favourite driver get into 4th

[Lap 46]: 10 laps to go

[Lap 47]: “No need to push” “I’m not pushing” Fastest Lap: Fernando Alonso. rguheuraghu

Fernando Alonso certified menace to society

[Lap 48]: Seb (2nd) and Jenson (5th) still haven’t stopped yet, so they’re either leaving it as late as possible, or going to try extending to a two stop. 

[Lap 49]: ah nvm Jenson’s race engineer said they were doing one more lap before stopping 😅

also YIKES the soft tyres sucked that much this race if they only want to do 7 laps on it

[Lap 50]: and Jenson finally pits for the soft tyre, he comes out in 7th place

[Lap 51]: Jenson passes Massa for 6th 

and he’s setting purple sectors 🥰

[Lap 52]: Seb makes his third stop for softs, he comes out in 4th

*5 Laps remaining klaxon*

and apparently Jenson’s tyres are already dying 😭

Pirelli you can and will meet my fists

[Lap 53]: meanwhile Lewis is close to Raikkonen, but not close enough to try a pass

[Lap 54]: ✨Seb fastest lap✨

and Di Resta pits which promotes Jenson to 5th

oh jeez the amount of marbles off the racing line, they could legit make a whole set of tyres, the track is literally black where they’ve all gathered

[Lap 55]: Seb closing in on Lewis at a huge rate of knots

last lap spice you say? 👀

[Lap 56]: the gap has gone from 5.2 seconds to 2.0 seconds in about two laps. whew.

A Lewis and Seb battle is the superior battle, you cannot change my mind

although Lewis is caught up in a train of traffic, which is allowing Seb to catch up even more.

[Finish]: Fernando wins, can we cut to Lewis and Seb please

MASSIVE LOCK UP FROM LEWIS

oh jeeeeeez it was a drag race to the line and I think Lewis got him by a front wing end plate. WHEW.

Final Top 5: Alonso, Raikkonen, Lewis, Seb, Jenson

Oh jeez that race was actually really decent! Normally I hate strategy races BUT in this case it made things genuinely interesting bc there was a good split of drivers using the 2-stop or 3-stop, and most importantly it gave us some decent battles and made the results somewhat unpredictable! And the last lap chase of Lewis v Seb was SO GOOD. It literally wasn’t over until the last lap, and it being between Lewis and Seb was just even better, and podium or not Seb had such a great comeback drive from what I think was a brake issue in quali the day before. And that’s before you get into all the stuff going on at the start... WHEW.

Easy 8 out of 10 race, next one is Bahrain!

#F1 re watch #F1 2013 Re watch #F1 Liveblog #chinese gp 2013

[ggsworldstory]

Chapter 1 Act 8: Last stretch

(August 7, launch day)

After everything they had been through, all the trials and tribulations, The delinquent duo had FINALLY made it to the dogobogo jungle, “This is where the map ends” Terry explained

“So what now?” GG asked

"Gimme a moment” Terry replied as he flew his jetpack high up to scope out the scene,he could clearly see the massive rocket standing clear long into the distance, “yep, it’s right over there” Terry announced as he descended back down 

“Really?” GG responded in shock and awe, “Well what are we waiting for?!”

Once more GG hopped into the pack and the duo blasted off to the rocket, the wind  caressing their faces, bolstering the excited chills of anticipation they were experiencing at the thought of reuniting with loved ones after so long, the thought of having finally found a safe haven from everything that has happened

But as they came closer, something felt… wrong

They began to hear the sound of bullets flying, helicopters whirring, tanks treading, soon enough they were close enough to see a dead giveaway to the situation, many green starred giveaways

“The Government!?”

Immediately following this revelation, Terry swooped downwards to hide beneath the trees

“Shit, how’d they find this place?” GG unervedly questioned

“Calm down, The Toppats deal with this sorta thing all the time, don’t they?” Terry interjected as he began to peek out their hiding spot, “Let’s just focus on getting into the rocket in one pie-”

Before immediately hiding back

“I’m scared to ask what you saw”

“Yeah, the wall’s here”

Somehow still surprised, GG went to look for himself and sure enough, he could see the line of blue tanks entering on the horizon, GG took a deep breath, let out a brief scream before cutting himself off, “NO! We’ve come too far for these bastards to stop us now, ya with me?!”

Terry gave a “Hell yeah” along with an affirmative nod as he took another, longer look out to the scene before turning back, “Alright, I’ve got a plan” GG took a deep breath and returned to the pack, “Let’s do this” He determinedly remarked

Soon enough the duo were back up in the air, flying above one soldier who veered off far from the rest of their team, immediately, GG jumped off, landing on them before taking the soldier’s machine gun and tossing it back up to Terry

Taking advantage of his new weaponry, Terry made a beeline for the array of helicopters heading for the rocket,strategically keeping his distance as to have an accurate shot at the pilots while being hard to aim at himself, especially as he would swerve and glide through the air, one by one many of the copters would fall until Terry ran out of ammo, forcing him to fly away and seek out another weapon

GG meanwhile, ran on the ground, adrenaline flowing rapidly as he repeatedly took cover from anyone shooting at him, luckily most of the troops were focused on other targets rather than him, but that didn’t make having to draw fire from anyone who was long, enough for Terry to sneak attack and snatch their firearms any less stressful

Observing directly beneath the rocket’s launching platform, GG noticed something, 3 government soldiers surrounded by large batteries, upon further inspection, he realized that the batteries were connected to a bomb! (Or emp?)

Knowing he had to act fast, GG lightning dashed to the plattform, before the soldiers even knew what happened, the green streak sped by and the bomb was gone

Now away from the rocket, GG was in panic, the bomb was still ready to go off any second, noticing a group of wall tanks, he immediately chucked the thing into the fray, lightning dashing behind one of the comm towers for cover right before it could blow up!

As GG sat there, behind his shelter, trying to catch his breath, his respite would be interrupted by a heart pounding message from a computerized voice

“The rocket will be launching in 1 minute”

Terry, of course, heard this announcement too, “Crap!” the duo shouted in unison as they both began to rush for the rocket’s entrance, meeting up at the ramp and immediately resuming their pursuit as fast as they could muster to the gate

GG was running full speed ahead with Terry flying close behind, The wind blasting vigorously in their faces that would only bolster the erupting sensation of adrenaline they were both experiencing

“5..”

Tears of joy began appearing from GG’s eyes as the rocket’s gate, the proverbial finish line to his journey grew closer and closer, his eyes were dead focused on it and it alone

“4..”

 but that huper-fixation would prove to be his plight

Out of nowhere and before he could have a chance to react, a metallic hand blocked GG’s path causing him to crash right into it before it took hold of him, GG struggled with all of his might, but he couldn’t escape the armored man’s titanium grasp, with a hiss of the mech’s hydraulics, he reeled back his other fist

“3..”

After Terry noticed, he stopped dead in his tracks, he knew that there were only mere seconds before the rocket blasted off never to be seen again, but he didn’t care, with some quick, sharp shooting of his pistol, Terry made quick work of the armored man as well as the two soldiers beside him

“2..”

GG was finally able to pull himself out of the steel stronghold, taking a brief moment to catch his breath but…

“1..”

They felt the ramp rumble against the rocket as it’s thrusters began to ignite, they were too late, the ramp began to tip over, causing the duo to tumble off down to the jungle floor and as he landed, GG looked up to see the rocket quickly rise and just as quickly, feel his heart sink

Terry descended down where GG was as he stood back up, his head facing the ground, immediately, the soldiers directed their attention at all the Toppats left behind, including the delinquent duo

“Surrender now, hands in the air!” many of them shouted 

“Sir, we’ve found another convict, permission to switch targets?” one of the wall guards asked over his walkie talkie, “sir?” He repeated after getting no answer

Terry complied with the soldier’s demands while silently trying to scope out the area, despite their, as well as the other Toppat’s efforts, the skies were still swarming with helicopters, the ground coated with armed soldiers, all ready to shoot at a moments notice, but there didn’t seem to be anyone behind them, “psst” Terry tried to whisper to GG, “I know this looks bad, but I think… GG?” the boy was not listening, though the shadow of his hat covered his eyes, the tears rolling down his face were all too clear as were his heavy breathing and his hands that remained by his side

“Hands in the air or your head’s in the ground!” one of the soldiers threatened

But nevertheless, GG remained adamant, his hands not only stayed where they were, but also clenched themselves into subtly vibrating fists

“They’re not coming back for you, WHY WON’T YOU GIVE UP!?”

At this point, one of the soldiers fired a warning shot to GG’s side,only then he raised his arm, to catch the bullet then stomping his foot firmly in front of him, before finally giving an answer

“I made a promise…”

In a flash, GG was running faster than he ever had before,keeping his breath steady and his steps rapid, he circled around the green and blue horde in an erratic, unpredictable pattern, making him near impossible to shoot with precision

With the soldiers distracted, Terry took to the skies once more, whittling down the army one shot at a time, soon enough, backup was called, in the form of tanks, GG took note of this, charging a flame into his legs before rocket jumping to avoid their fire, landing atop on of the tanks before rocket jumping yet again up to Terry, they both saw the tank down below and their minds were in sync

GG grabbed onto Terry’s arms and  by shifting the jetpack’s energy to one thruster, the cowboy spun him to and fro, after building up sufficient momentum, Terry let go, Launching the boy like a flaming, ballistic missile, crashing clean through the tank’s hatch, before it’s driver could do anything, Terry had already followed suit, and shot him down

Now it was just the delinquent duo and the controls of a fully loaded tank

At this point, the government realized it wasn’t worth it and began to retreat with the toppats they were able to capture, the wall remained persistent, but only briefly as they saw their forces get blown to pieces by the tank before they decided to get outta dodge themselves   

After everyone else was gone, the duo finally left the tank, “Heh, nice work out there!” Terry congratulated, but GG remained silent, walking to the rocket’s platform and lying down on it, Terry was confused at first, but after seeing the tears return to GG’s eyes,he understood, “It’s alright, let it all out” Terry said, trying to sympathize, but as he approached, Terry noticed something strange, GG wasn’t just crying, he was… laughing?

There was an obvious air of sadness in GG’s tone, but he wasn’t quite in distraught as one would expect him to be

Terry looked on with confusion

GG simply responded “look” as he pointed up to the rocket, though faint, was still visible as it flew into the stars, GG continued, “If we didn’t get here in time, if we didn’t do anything about the government, that wouldn’t be there, my home, my family, they’re safe because of us…”

“Huh, I guess you’re right” Terry replied

GG got up and proceeded to wipe the tears off his eyes, “I dunno how, but I’m sure we’ll find a way there somehow” 

“Any ideas for the meantime?”

At this moment, Gears began turning in the boy’s head, “I have always wanted to explore the world” GG went on as he reached into his pocket, “and I do still have this ‘jackpot coin’ on me” before turning back to the cowboy, “whaddya say, ya with me?”

“Heh, beats being stuck in that desert”

And with that agreement, GG charged a spark in his step, Terry ignited the thrusters in his jetpack and they were off, ready to face anything that could be thrown their way and raring to go through the world as if it were their own, the journey was over but the adventure was far from it

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End of Chapter 1~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#thsc fandom #thsc oc #toppat oc

[explxsiveoutcxst]

((temporary faceclaim change again cause I kinfirmed yet another fnf-related character today blah blah blah--but lemme get this straight here. so there’s an anon going around tryna do genderbend m!a’s? now I never got into genderbends but a lot of the time they’re just,,,overdoing it or hell even seem to be making fun of trans people, I heard someone got a detransition ask or whatever, basically something anti-trans but I forget if ‘detransition’ was the right word used to describe it I dunno lemme just say that if you’re transphobic you can kindaly--nah not even kindly. you can just. get the fuck off my blog I do not tolerate that bullshit on here take it somewhere else. or better yet nowhere at all keep that shit off social media and in your own messed up head jackass. sorry if I seem super aggressive I just. man I hate seeing shit like this. kinda ranted a bit in the tags oops. I’m cranky and don’t feel like writing much more for tonight so sorry but the Towy may have to wait I am just in the mood to let out my rage via a violent video game (tboi) and then go the fuck to sleep. tho going to bed cranky makes me cranky the next morning--OH WHATEVER I AM JUST HHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I fucking hate some people, just leave others alone instead of treating them as less than human simply because they’re different than you in whatever way it is. if you don’t like something it doesn’t automatically make it bad so get your heads outta your asses and shut the fuk up))

#Out of explosions {ooc} #News flash. {update} #Attention everyone! {important} #Observing from afar. {dash comm.} #mini-rant?? #idk whatever. #god I hate anti-lgbtq+ people #I hate antis in general. #aka people who go around hating on shit #especially things they don't understand #because they're petty #and won't let people just chill out on the fuckin internet #it's the internet people do whatever it's a fucked up place #you think you're doing it justice by getting rid of 'bad' people #well you guys are the bad ones. making people feel like shit for things out of their control #makes me sick and so fuckin angry. it's also personal!! #because. I!!! am a bad person in all of their eyes!! I should die!!!! #OVER THINGS I CAN'T FUCKING CONTROL!! #and yes I have things that genuinely trigger me. #do I say others can't enjoy it?? No!! I just leave em alone #'oh that's so ignorant' shut the fuck up you dumbass scum you're filth. #...UGH. sorry I'm so angry rn. I'm just. really not ok with anti bullshit.

[immersed-in-mischief]

Coming Home- A Prince Charming One Shot (Loki x Female Reader)

Read the Prince Charming series here

Summary: Loki drives the rest of the team crazy when he is away from you

Loki was nervously pacing back and forth in front of the ramp behind the jet. He had already been away from you for nine hours and the flight home would still take another two. The second Tony appeared at the entrance to the Hydra base they had just raided, he stormed over to him.

“STARK!’

He didn’t care that he was interrupting his conversation, even if it thoroughly frustrated both men in front of him.

“I’m sure the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents on site are fully capable of wrapping this up. Now can we please just head back already? I would see to it myself, but you tend to frown upon my methods…”

Tony rolled his eyes before addressing the agent next to him.

“I know you have it handled, Jones. Call me if you have any problems. I need to get the cranky god home before he throws a full-blown tantrum. It isn’t pretty… believe me.”

Once Stark was finally on board, all members of the team had been rounded up and took their seats as Bruce fired up the jet. Tony noticed the way Loki crossed his arms and bounced his boot against the floor. Luckily the roar of the engines covered up the repetitive tapping that the rest of the team had to endure for the last hour. Stark’s voice came across the comms unit in his ear.

“Don’t have a cow Reindeer Games. We will get you back to your much better half in a jiffy! Just chill…”

He rolled his eyes and didn’t reply. Your presence was the only thing that made these mundane missions tolerable. Honestly, this is the kind of mission that would give the two of you time to sneak away together for a few minutes of alone time before being stuck inside the jet with the rest of the team. Apparently your intense make out sessions on the ride back had started to make the rest of the team awkward. It had been too long since the two of you had been on a mission together and it had begun to wear on his nerves. The constant time apart from each other felt like it was slowly destroying him. Trying to keep himself together, he counted down the minutes until you were in his arms again.

When the jet finally landed, Loki bolted from the ramp before it had completely touched down, jumping the last two feet to the roof. Before he reached the doors, a loud whistle behind him caught his attention. Rogers…

“Come on, Laufeyson. You know the drill. No one is off the clock until the jet is unloaded. No exceptions.”

With a roll of his eyes and flick of his wrist, the contents disappeared as a few team members reached to pick up the items and they appeared in the hanger beside him.

“There. May I go now, sir?”

He waved him off. No longer wanting to fight with him today as the rest of the team made their way into the hanger to check in their weapons. The very second his feet hit the floor, he made a mad dash for the elevator. When it took forever to come up to the roof, he let out a loud growl and transported himself to the hallway outside of the room. Trying to remain as quiet as possible, he slowly opened the door to the room you shared with him and called out to you in a low whisper.

“Darling?”

You smiled up at him from the rocker across the room. Upon seeing your smile, all the tension in his body vanished. As he made his way across the room towards you, you gave him that look and pointed towards the bathroom.

“No kisses until you shower first, Mischief. I don’t want to know what you’ve been involved in today.”

Loki nodded and stripped on his way across the room to save time, winking at you as he disappeared behind the bathroom door. In just a few minutes, he reemerged with wet hair and his soft lounge clothes. He leaned down to kiss you a few times before taking the wrapped bundle from your arms.

“Did my girls have a good day today?”

He smiled down at the sleepy baby girl in his arms as she wrapped her tiny fingers around his thumb.

“One of us did. The other decided to cry for three hours straight this afternoon.”

You stood up from the rocker and kissed your daughter’s head before going to fold the laundry that was on the bed.

“Now sweetling, you were supposed to go easy on Mommy today. We talked about this.”

“Who said she was the one crying?”

He looked up at you and chuckled before joining you on the bed with his little twin in his lap against his raised knees.

“Still wouldn’t go down?”

You rolled your eyes as you stacked the now folded onesies back into the basket and pushed it down the bed with your foot. As you leaned into his shoulder, his arm came up to wrap around your waist.

“No of course not. Apparently, Daddy is the only one allowed to get her to go to sleep easily. She looks just like you. I’m not surprised that she is just as stubborn as you, too.”

“We need to work on that, Beetle.”

You cringed at the nickname he had given your daughter.

“Lohk, we’ve discussed this…”

Knowing where you were going with it, his hand pointed over at you.

“…Bug”

Then lightly tapping the infant’s cute nose.

“Little Bug! She’s Daddy’s precious little Beetle!”

You shook your head and groaned with frustration.

“If she starts answering to Beetle, I’m killing you. I’m making that clear right now. I don’t know why we gave her a proper name just for you to give her an insect name.”

“Because she’s our Little Beetle. To everyone else, she’s Charlotte Eleanor Lokisdottir.”

He just gave you a kiss on the head before turning his attention to the now sleeping infant.

“How the hell do you do that?! You’ve been holding her for two seconds!”

“It’s because she loves her Daddy more. Isn’t that right, Beetle?”

Loki expected you to put up a fight, but you stayed silent. He looked away from the precious gift in his lap to find you fast asleep against his shoulder. He reached up and softly stroked your cheek as he smiled and let himself relax as well.

“Sleep tight my precious girls. Daddy’s home now.”

#loki smut #loki fluff #loki angst #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki fandom #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #marvel #friends to lovers

[spacedikut]

(nearly) lost love ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: “hi idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love to read something where the reader ends up getting hurt somehow (maybe by an unsub) and is in the hospital and spencer is super worried about her and maybe confesses his feelings for her bc he thought he was gonna lose her?? idk just something super fluffy with a little angst if you’re up for it” 2890 words

a/n: im gon na be honest idk how to write angst so i just went where the story took me????

masterlist

Spencer was proudly stood in front of his geological profile in the Austin precinct when the frantic call was made over the comms.

“Agent down! I repeat, Agent down! We need a medic!”

It was Morgan’s booming voice, firm and commanding, and Spencer first felt relief knowing at least Morgan was safe. But fear follows, prickling through his entire body when, oh no, someone on his team has been injured.

Morgan kept his comm connected. Spencer could hear all the chaos on the other end – he picked up that JJ was counting bodies, there was at least four medics requested, and, the most gut-wrenching for Spencer, was listening to Morgan repeat variations of, “Stay with me Y/N. Don’t close your eyes – listen to me, baby, stay with me, Y/N!”

You. You were the agent down.

You, who, less than two hours ago, laughed at your own joke so hard you couldn’t get it out. You, who made plans with him to go shopping for Halloween decorations that weekend (which Spencer was way too excited about, by the way). You.

You, who Spencer recently realised he’s in love with.

Why does he feel like this is his fault? He knows, logically, it isn’t – the obvious reason is because Spencer wasn’t there (which, a little voice in the back of his head says well maybe if you were there this wouldn’t have happened…) and it’s likely that this is entirely the ubsub’s fault. He attacked and you were the unlucky target.

But the history of Spencer’s love life shows there is a definite risk to being associated with him.

Is this the world’s way of telling him he shouldn’t love you? He shouldn’t tell you he loves you?

Was the big speech Derek gave him, the month they spent building Spencer’s confidence up, all for nothing? Because Spencer’s cursed?

This isn’t about you, Spencer, he thinks, angry at himself. God, you’re hurt, injuries still unknown, and he’s floundering because he’s convinced himself he’s cursed.

“Reid? You there?”

It’s Morgan, still talking through the comm, and it knocks Spencer out of his head. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Y/N? Is it Y/N? Is she okay?”

Morgan’s voice is calm and collected, as always, “Hey, kid, chill. She’s with a medic on the way to the hospital. You wanna-“

“I’ll meet you there.”

Spencer dashes out of the room.

+++

When he arrives, Hotch and JJ are waiting for him at the entrance. JJ expected Spencer to be worried, a little agitated, but she didn’t expect him to look so dishevelled and distressed. His hair, usually so well-kempt, sticks up in all directions. He abandoned his jacket and satchel at the station, obviously in a rush, and now his shoelace is untied and it’s giving JJ anxiety.

“Reid,” Hotch greets.

“How-“

“She’s fine, she’s okay,” JJ immediately says. Spencer has always said JJ knows exactly how to soothe him. “A nasty knock to the head, but she’s been taken care of and she’s resting now.”

Spencer’s whole body sighs in relief.

He sounds fragile when he asks, “Can I see her?”

JJ gives a small, bittersweet smile, then gestures for Spencer to follow her. He stays close, basically standing on her heels, the entire way to your room, where Emily is leaving.

He struts straight in, acknowledging no one, intent on seeing you and seeing you only.

You lie there, lifeless. All he can hear is the haunting sound of the heart monitor, combined with your chest minimally moving up and down being the only signs you’re alive. You’ve lost all your usual colour – Spencer recalls JJ mumbling something about you losing a lot of blood – and the whole sight makes his stomach lurch.

He walks in, and walks right back out.

Everyone shares looks of bewilderment. He did a complete 180, hardly sparing you a glance, and ran straight into the hospital’s bathroom where the team hears the distinct sound of retching.

Derek sighs and follows him. Their gazes meet: Spencer’s head barely lifting from the toilet bowl, Derek shutting and locking the bathroom door with pitying eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ Spencer starts.

“Don’t apologise. How you feeling?”

He groans in response, leaning against the wall. He begs himself to not think about all the germs and diseases that are probably infesting his body as they speak – his heart stings too much in his chest for that.

Spencer swallows the stone in his throat, grimacing at the remnants of bile, “Seeing her like that..”

“I know.”

“I never thought I’d see her like that. I’ve never wanted to see her like that and-and.. I couldn’t be there to protect her and help her-“

“None of this is your fault, Reid. It’s not your fault, or her fault, or anyone’s fault except the guy that did this. And he’s dead. And she’ll be fine. Please,” Derek warns, “Don’t guilt yourself into mayhem. I know you, and I know her, and all she wants is for you to be the first thing she sees when she wakes up. If not, or if she finds out you’re beating yourself up over this, she’ll kill you, man. With her bare hands.”

Derek’s smirking at the end of his speech because he’s right and Spencer knows it too. And Spencer can’t refrain from grinning a little at the thought of you, just gaining consciousness, and leaping from your bed to smack some sense into him.

You’re incredible. Which both pains him and makes him fall for you harder.

When Spencer rises and starts swirling his mouth out with water, Derek gives him a firm pat on the shoulder and leaves, Spencer not far behind.

This time, he won’t run out of the room like a weakling. Because it’s you and you need him to be there for you.

It’s what you’d do for him. And before that thought can go any further, he’s taking a deep breath and opening the door.

You’re still resting, looking exactly the same as when he first saw you, and his stomach jumps into his throat again – it pains him to see you like this.

But Penelope is leaning over you, fingers brushing your hair back with the trademarked tenderness that is Penelope Garcia. You’ve always called her your Fairy Godmother, your guardian angel, the true love of your life.

Maybe you’d rather see her when you first wake up.

So he stays back, lingering by the entrance of the room, until Rossi nudges him and he stumbles to the top of your bed. Right by your face, your oh-so-gorgeous but bruised face, and Spencer stares.

He can’t explain how glad he is that you’re okay. You’re here, a little beaten up, but he knows that in a couple days, maximum a week, you’ll be back in the bullpen with your quirks and nudges and warmth that is so you and he’ll never let anything come near you again.

(He knows he can’t actually do that. You wouldn’t let him. But he still thinks it, because he loves you and he’ll do anything for you)

The team silently agrees that Spencer will be the one to stay with you. At least until you wake up.

(Why? You might ask. Because you drunkenly told the girls that you’re convinced the closest thing to heaven on Earth would be waking up and Spencer Reid being the first thing you see every day. Ever since, they’ve committed themselves to trying to set you two up)

Spencer sleeps next to your bed, cramped in the uncomfortable and tiny chair, until about seven am. Then he recites some books in his head, just to pass the time. Then Penelope calls.

“I’m on my way with baked goods, Doctor. Would you like me to pick something up for you and the sleeping beauty?”

Spencer goes to decline, before looking at you, “I think Y/N would appreciate a burger. Maybe two.”

Garcia hums down the line, “You know, she’s always been full of good ideas. I’ll buy too many burgers then be on my way. Kisses!” Then hangs up.

In the meantime, Spencer scrolls through your conversation on his phone. He’d never been one for texting, or technology (notoriously), but you always send him things you think he’d like – maybe an article (he’s read every single one you’ve sent, even the one about the monkey using a frog to masturbate), a picture of a cute dog (this one looks like you, spence!!!!!!), and anything else that catches your eye.

For example, a comprehensive list of way too many “why did the chicken cross the road?” jokes.

They’re your kryptonite. Even after you explained the joke to Spencer, in depth, he still doesn’t quite understand the appeal. But you love them.

So he reads them to you.

He knows you can’t hear him. Being asleep is obviously very different to being in a coma, where people have claimed to be able to hear the people around them, but it passes the time and eases him a little. Cause he also knows that if you were awake you’d be chortling away, happy as can be. And that’s how you should always be.

Happy.

Spencer hopes he makes you happy.

Damn, he loves you.

Damn.

He has to tell you he loves you.

It feels like this need, this obligation – if he doesn’t tell you when you wake up then when will he tell you? The next time you’re injured?

The thought sends him reeling.

No matter the outcome, you need to know. He needs to tell you.

“Why did the rooster cross the road?” He reads aloud, “To cockadoodle dooo something.”

He’s cheesing at his screen, at the audacity and stupidity of these jokes. But they’re sweet, just like you, and they take everyone prisoner when it comes to making people smile.

“That was a good one.” You heh.

Your voice is croaky after not being used in hours, but it’s still the same dreamy voice Spencer loves to hear.

You’re awake. And already smiling, which is one hell of a win in Spencer’s book.

“Good morning.” He whispers.

“It’s morning?” You ask, moving your head slowly to see outside your window. “At least I got a full night’s sleep for once.”

“Should you really be joking in your condition?” Spencer teases, leaning to fluff your pillow when you wince.

You exhale deeply, “And what is my condition, exactly?”

“You look as sexy as ever, buttercup.”

Garcia’s grinning from the doorway, Derek the same from behind her, two bags of food in her hands.

You’re ecstatic when you say, “Penny!” Trying to hide the pain when she hugs you. You’re too happy to see her to turn down her love.

She dishes out the burgers and, as expected, you ask if there’s another in there for you. You chomp happily, despite the dull ache still present, chatting jovially with the three of them.

Penelope gets caught up in telling you about the most recent documentary she saw. When he notices, Derek nods towards the door, making Spencer furrow his eyebrows in confusion. What does he want?

Derek does it again and Spencer gets it. He lifts from his seat the same time Derek does, saying nothing until they’re out of the room and the door has shut behind them.

“I’m gonna make Penelope leave-“ Derek begins, and Spencer stutters.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

Derek chuckles at Spencer’s reaction, “Kid, everything’s fine. You just gotta tell her.”

Spencer doesn’t even try to pretend he doesn’t know what Derek’s referring to. He peeks through your door’s window, staring directly at you as you giggle at something Penelope says.

“Do I?” He ponders. “It could-“

“Nope. We’re not doing that “it could ruin everything” spiel. You’re an adult, she’s an adult, and adults don’t play around with feelings like this. Tell. Her.” Derek’s got both hands on Spencer’s shoulders, grip tightening and loosening sporadically as he talks. He looks like a football coach giving a pep talk before the big game, and Spencer feels invigorated.

“Alright.” Spencer nods once, “Let’s do this.”

“I will remove Penelope Garcia from the premises.”

They nod at eachother and move back into your room.

+++

When Penelope is pulled from your room by Derek, stumbling and muttering and stuttering, all you do is blink in confusion.

“What’s going on there?” You say, speaking out of the side of your mouth, as if you’re sharing a secret.

Spencer doesn’t answer. You turn to look at him, another question on your tongue, but the words die when you see his facial expression.

It’s so tender. So soft, and gentle, the littlest of smiles on his lips as his cheeks darken.

“If I tell you something really dramatic right now, do you think you could handle that?”

Your head tilts, brows furrowed, looking far too endearing with your bandaged head.

He clears his throat, “I just-just need to make sure it won’t overwhelm you.”

You don’t know what to expect, but you agree anyway. Is this why Derek and Penelope left?

“I vomited when I saw you in bed. In this bed. In hospital.” He begins.

“Oh, thanks, Spence,” You tease.

“No- no. Hear me out!” He gives a little laugh, hands coming up in defence. “I don’t have a script, and statistically, both men and women speak around sixteen-thousand words a day – I want these ones to be special. Because you’re special.”

You’re still visibly confused. You clasp your hands together in your lap, “I’m listening. You have my full attention.”

Having your full attention is terrifying and electrifying at the same time. Spencer wants you to know that.

“You make me feel things, you know.” He reveals, “Things I’ve only ever read about, fantasised about – you know… things.”

This is going terribly. For a man who’s read the dictionary more times than he cares to count (he does care to count – twenty two times), he is very much struggling to explain himself to you.

Deep breath. From the start.

“It’s alright, Spence,” You console, hand resting on his closed ones. “Take your time.”

He does. He takes a few more breaths. “I don’t know where to start so- so bear with me.”

“Always.”

Why do you have to make his heart race like that?

“What?”

Oh. He said that out loud.

Well. Might as well repeat it.

“I said,” Louder this time, “Why do you have to make my heart race like that?”

“I’m sorry?”

“No. No- I like it. I like you, that’s what I’m trying to say. Maybe not like since Derek told me we’re not in high school, kid,” He lowers his voice to impersonate Derek, “But the l word is scary, especially when I don’t know how you’re gonna react. But whatever you say, however you react, we’ll be okay. I know we will. I just need you to know how you make me feel and how-how good I think I’d treat you, I guess.”

It feels like your silence goes on forever. Then you quietly ask, “And how do I make you feel, Spence?”

“Like I’ve never felt before. I meant it when I said you make me feel things I’ve only read about – you’re so easy to love, you know that? Infuriatingly so. And you’re so open – I think that’s what drew me in at first. You knew nothing about Doctor Who, but you heard I was asking around for someone to go with me to that convention and you said you were available if I wanted you and I… I had to practice how to ask you in the mirror for three days straight. Of course I want you, Y/N. I think I always have.”

His voice is timid when he asks, afraid of what the answer might be.

“Do you think you want me too?”

“Are you crazy?!” You cry out.

The volume makes Spencer jump. Then he registers what you said and slumps, rejection seeping in.

“Spencer-“ You say, exasperated, “You’re the most incredible person I know. I tell you all the time cause I mean it.” You give a short laugh, “How could you even think that I wouldn’t feel the exact same? I’m kind of obsessed with you, Spence.”

The shock on his face melts into pure joy. Is this really happening? You..

“I want you an embarrassing amount, Spencer Reid. I always have and I always will.”

He doesn’t know what overcomes him, but he leaps forward and smashes your lips together. It’s messy and a little clunky, teeth hitting together and mouths unable to stop grinning, but it’s perfect. Everything you could’ve asked for in your first kiss with Spencer.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect.

And he thinks the exact same of you.

He pulls back, heart racing and entire body burning, strong hands cradling your head. It doesn’t take a profiler to realise the two of you, foreheads leaning against eachother, are the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

“You taste like burger.” Spencer breathes, soft and low.

You giggle. “You taste like coffee and burger.”

His lips quirk, raising an eyebrow, “You like it?”

You hum, rubbing your nose against his, “I like it a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.”

Spencer kisses you again.

And again.

“Glad to know we’re on the same page.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #i like this one! i think #does anyone else struggle infinitely with titling fics #i go with the randomest shit lol