#is it worth tagging the other thieves? yeah sure whatever

[hypogryffin]

sumire’s fucking pissed

#persona 5 #p5 #sumire yoshizawa #:). hi. hello. hey. hi. #i spent like a whooole week n a half on this you should. :) you shiuld reblog it #is it worth tagging the other thieves? yeah sure whatever #goro akechi #takuto maruki #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #ann takamaki #makoto niijima #ryuji sakamoto #haru okumura #futaba sakura #p5 morgana #yusuke kitagawa #i just. i think sumi deserves to be a little feral. as a treat. #comics #long post #<soz #p5r spoilers #for the steam & xbox crowd. #1k

[vampirelover890]

The Moon’s Favorite (5/?)

Maria glanced at the new recruit at the other side of the guild, then got up from her table and walked over to his. She stood about 5 inches taller than him and her unimpressive chainmail and leather coat seemed almost luxurious compared to his sad, oversized suit which seemed to be covered in dog fur.

He looked up from his mug of ale, which he'd previously been practically drowning himself in, to meet Maria’s gaze, then backed the rest of glass, and asked, “Are you lost?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing, rookie.”

“Rookie definitely is not the right word, but I guess it fits; we’ve never officially been part of an adventurer’s guild.”

“Well then rookie it is. I’m Maria Mazelina, and you look like you could use a party, and we’re down an adventurer. Whaddya say?”

“Oh god, anything but a party. I hate parties. Too many people to worry about.”

“That’s sounding’ like quitter talk mister. Who knows, maybe this party’ll change your mind.”

“You know what, fine, I’ll bite. The name’s Anderson, please call me Anders, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Alright Mr. Anders, the rest of our party’s sittin’ right on over there. I’m sure they’ll love ya.”

Maria led Anders to her table, where the 3 other members of their party sat. Maria pointed to the tall knight in a deep red armor. “That’s Slayer, we call them that cuz we don’t actually know their name. In fact, they almost never say anything to us, but they’ve been a part of this party the longest.” Maria then pointed to a man of Dragon’s Descent, with green scaled skin. “That one there is Gail, he’s the son of a mistake and a Poison Dragon, but is reliable in a pinch,” Gail gave Anders a sincere wave, “and that,” continued Maria, pointing to the Insekt, “is our good ol’ buggy boy Vendrick. He’ll give ya the heebie jeebies one second, and the best damn back massage you ever had in your life the next.” Vendrick shot finger guns at Anders with two of his six arms as the other four were preoccupied with knitting a sort of scarf with a webbed pattern. “An’ finally, there’s me,” said Maria, “I am the leader of this rag tag group of shitheads, and am formally inviting you to join our party.”

After a moment of silence, Anders spoke, “That was perhaps the worst introduction to a group of people I have ever heard anyone give, ever. We're in.”

After much rejoicing at the party’s table, Vendrick asked, “Anders, what do you do?” To which Anders replied, “Well I’ve dedicated my life to researching the origins of magic, and as such I’ve dabbled in a bit of alchemy, so I’ll probably be the most useful as a supportive alchemist.”

“Sick, dude,” said Vendrick, “last alchemist we had was actually 3 goblins in a trench coat who tried to steal all our shit. I'm not saying i think you’re 3 goblins, I’m just sayin’ you’ve got the outfit for it.”

“Well you’ve called me over, and introduced us to your party. I assume you did so because your party was about to go on a job, didn’t have a fourth member, and a new rookie with no friends just walked on in?” Anders asked Maria.

“Well,” said Maria, “yeah, that’s exactly it. We’re headed to Marccina to see if we can find anything worth salvaging. Some people say that what ever did it is still there, but we’ll be fine. Whatever did do it, man or beast, is probably long gone.”

Three days, and a couple close encounters with thieves and monsters, later, Maria’s party arrived at Marccina’s closed gates. In front stood two Knights of the Queen.

One of the Knights stepped towards the party, and claimed, “Woah there, travelers! Beyond lies the ruins of the city of Marccina. The Queen has decreed the city safe only for those well trained and equipped. State your business!”

Maria quickly responded, saying, “We are adventurers of the Ynsdryth Guild. We ask that we be admitted entrance into Marccina to assure the city’s security and eliminate or otherwise drive out any thief or monster living within.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. It’s been 4 months and you’re the first party to decide to wander the streets in the name of the security of the kingdom. You must either be brave or crazy.”

“I’m afraid it’s the latter, good Knight.”

“Well then, the Queen has said nothing about the sanity of those who enter, only the preparedness. You may proceed.”

Gail leaned towards Maria and said, “Maria that is the most enunciated and formal I’ve ever heard you say anything.”

Maria retorted, “Well don’t get used to it hun. All I know is that them knights of the kingdom prefer speakin’ in their ‘formal dialect.’”

As Maria finished her thought, the heavy wooden doors that act as the only way in and out of Marccina’s tall stone walls groaned open, and presented a scene of rotten corpses and dried blood. As Maria’s party walked in, the knights closed the gates behind them, and were told to open them once more when they heard a knock from the other side, else they could assume the party dead.

As the party wandered the streets filled with dead, motionless corpses and blood stuck to the cobblestone paving, Vendrick started conversation.

“So, y’all uh, think this was some sort of ultra violent monster or large group of bandits or maybe it’s-”

“It’s close.” interjected Slayer, which took everyone in the party by surprise. Anders hadn’t heard the knight speak in the 4 or so days he’s known them, but Gail, Vendrick, and Maria, who’d been traveling with them for perhaps years seemed mortified. Maria turned to Anders and said, “In the 5 years I’ve adventured with Slayer, they’ve only ever spoken twice before. Once, on the day I met ‘em, they’d appeared on my ship after escaping from a pocket dimension they were dragged into by a Sea Bohemoth, an’ they said, ‘Hello,’ and the second was when we encountered a Demon who’d been summoned by cultists, an’ they yelled, ‘Run.’ I think we’ve got a lot more to worry about than squatters or bandits.”

Anders was equally as shocked as Maria, but for far different reasons. As the implications of Slayer’s words had time to sink in, Prometheus chimed into their shared headspace, saying, “Deephall, I fear this Slayer fellow may be onto us. If this gets too dicey, I'll have to make sure we don't have a party anymore."

As night fell over Marccina, the party found an alleyway to sleep in, and as they were about to settle, Vendrick crawled down from a roof, telling news of a tavern two blocks down. There the party would be able to at least avoid sleeping on the ground. As the party approached the tavern, the building on the opposite side of the road caught everyone's eye. A house directly in front of the tavern with the words, "Hello, Deephall" scratched deep into the building. Maria opened the tavern’s front door to find a scene seemingly 10 times worse than anything they'd seen outside. The bodies were torn apart, limb from limb, and the stone floor was a deep crimson from the blood that had been spilt. Gail, in an attempt to lighten the mood said, "Well at least whoever slept here the night or the Massacre must have been relieved when they didn't have to pay for their room."

Suddenly, Slayer drew their sword, and looked about confused for a while, then spoke, for the second time that day.

"Anders, you were here once."

Prometheus thought to Anders, "Alright, thats enough of that, I'll-" to which Anders thought back, "No, please, allow me to attempt to deescalate."

Anders spoke to Slayer, saying, "That is correct, we've been here, but that was about a day before," Anders gestured around, "whatever happened here, or out there, happened."

Maria pitched into the conversation, asking, "Anderson, why do you keep sayin' that?"

"Saying what?"

"'We.' You say 'we' instead of 'I' when talkin' about yourself."

"Well you see, we- I- uh- shit…"

Anders raised his arms, and began backing up. Slayer's sword was trained on Anders, and Maria had pulled out her revolver. Gail had armed himself with a knife and Vendrick had grabbed and smashed an empty bottle from behind the bar’s counter. The party surrounded Anders. He spoke aloud and clearly, saying, "Alright, I give up, I tried, I failed. You're up!"

Gail was going to ask Anders what he'd meant, but was swiftly answered as Anders' form began to disfigure itself. His figure became more imposing, and his demeanor of became that of something ready to kill for sport. Vendrick, after a tense moment, said, "Oh… I get it. The suit wasn't made for him, it was made for that thing!"

"Thing? You dare to call me a thing," questioned Prometheus. "I promise you now bug, I will be the last 'thing' you will ever see."

#short story #story #writers on tumblr #writing #writing on tumblr #werewolves #werewolf #character dialogue #adventure #adventuring party #please midnight/early morning fantasy scrollers save me. #I only write in bed or on the bus. #it’s a problem #I’m losing sleep #fantasy

[novannna]

could we get slordan + 🏳‍🌈? love youuuu and congrats on 100!!

tysm die!!! ily tooooo

you've kinda already seen a few parts of this, ive been screaming ab it in smgh a lot, but whatever, its v sexy

Sloane slipped her feet out of her slippers, letting a sigh escape her lips as her toes sank into the carpet. They carefully undressed, letting their probably priceless gown drop to the floor. Sloane couldn’t bring themself to care about it. She pulled a pair of pants up, and pulled her hair free, letting it tumble down her back in dark waves. Sloane cracked the window open, hands clutching tight to familiar holds. It was scary the way Roidan was starting to feel like a home. Their fingers knew where to grip each brick, their feet instinctively twisted into place. The simple climb was an afterthought. Much like it had been in Tempsa.

Sloane felt almost as if Tempsa was just a distant memory, a wonderful dream from which she was now awoken.

It was wrong. It was wrong, Tempsa wasn’t a memory, it was her life, and this was just some horrible nightmare she needed to go through. She needed to go through with it, and then she could go back to her life, go back to everything.

But that stupid traitorous heart in their chest wanted to stay in the nightmare. Wanted to stay for the one person who knew everything.

The one person who hated her more than anything.

God, why did her brain have to be so damn complicated. It was a war of emotions, and Jordan was at the center of everything.

Wasn’t she always?

Wasn’t that just the way it was?

Sloane’s foot slipped in their confusion, and banged loudly against the wall, sending a shower of rocks down, clattering loudly against the balcony below.

Sloane cursed.

Jordan’s balcony.

The door cracked open, and Jordan’s stupid, perfect head popped out.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Sloane muttered, trying desperately to force any of their terrible emotions away.

Emotion was weakness, after all. Emotions were dangerous. Emotions were weak, distracting, illogical, useless, and utterly terrifying.

Emotions were for people destined for nothing.

Emotions were not for Sloane.

And yet, with every breath Jordan took, Sloane could feel their heart twist. Why was part of her so naive to think that they could ever have a chance to be more than enemies?

“What are you doing?” Jordan asked. That oh so familiar suspicion and hate.

Sloane tilted her head, an invitation she shouldn’t be extending. “Care to tag along and find out? I promise it isn’t anything too illegal.” They extended a hand out to her, Sloane’s brown eyes searching deep into Jordan’s.

Jordan narrowed her eyes, and swung up, ignoring Sloane’s empty hand. “I’m going. To make sure you don’t ruin another life.”

Sloane sighed. The sharp pang of disappointment rang through her body. “Then keep up. And don’t get caught.” They pulled herself up to the roof, and ran along the top, feet falling lightly along the stone.

Jordan followed, her footsteps heavy and uneven, pausing with each step afraid of the ground below.

“You aren’t worried you’ll fall?”

Sloane shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to fly.”

“I’ve thought about falling before,” Jordan said, her voice surprisingly soft. “Those few seconds in the air seem so nice. So free.”

Sloane nodded. “And then you hit the ground, and you’re more trapped than you were before.”

“But those few seconds of pure, unrestrained freedom… maybe it's all worth it.”

Sloane tilted her head up, stopping for a second to let the cool air caress her skin. “What if we had never met?”

Jordan stopped as well, hands spread out for balance. “What of it?”

“Do you think you’d be the same person? Better or worse? All we’ve ever done is fought, but you can’t deny we’ve both altered the courses of our lives by meeting.”

“I think I would’ve wasted my life trying to be the perfect lady my mother wanted. I’d never have risked everything to be what I am now. Whether you like it or not, I’m a warrior because of you. You made me into a formidable opponent. Without you, I'd be stuck living out a useless life.” Jordan paused. “Be it better or worse, who's to say? Who’d you be without me?”

“Without you?” Sloane hesitated. A world without Jordan seemed so hard to imagine. “I imagine a much easier world, not needing to check my shoulder whenever I turn a corner. You’re the only threat I’ve seriously worried about. A constant thorn in my side, if you will. In a world without you, I’d be much better off. I’d never have to be here.” I can’t imagine a world without you. I can’t imagine my life without you. Sun to my moon, shield to my sword, thorn to my rose.

Sloane could hear their heart pounding in their ears.

Emotions clouded their mind. Emotions like these were dangerous. They’d only ever stop her from succeeding.

Emotion meant weakness, weakness meant failure, and failure was not acceptable.

Especially now.

Now, when failure meant the end of everything.

They were walking a dangerous tightrope now, by keeping Jordan close. Each quavering step led her closer to the goal, led them closer to the end.

But Jordan was like a strong wind, blowing, causing Sloane to halt everything, try and regain her footing.

Maybe, they could just let it all go.

Let herself fall.

Let herself fly.

Stupid fucking emotions.

God, she couldn’t be here. Here with Jordan. Nothing but the stars to witness them.

Sloane couldn’t do it to themself. It was too cruel to let herself imagine anything with Jordan.

She shouldn’t even be thinking about Jordan.

But here they were, talking, slowly letting those carefully built walls down.

Brick by brick, right?

“Where are we going?” Jordan asked, breaking the perfect chaos of Sloane’s mind.

Sloane nodded to the clock tower. “Up.”

“Are you mad? We’ll fall to our deaths.”

Sloane couldn’t help but grin. “Only the slightest. You don’t have to go.” Sloane smirked. “Not if you think it’s too hard.”

Jordan stiffened. “I didn’t say that,” she hissed, shouldering past Sloane, and gripping the stone. Sloane could see the tenseness in her shoulders, the quickness of her breath, the frantic darting of her eyes. Jordan was terrified.

“I’ll see you at the top.” Not her problem, was it?

“Wait.” Jordan’s voice was pitifully small. Nothing like her really. It wasn’t confident, or brave, or snappy, or strong. It was more like the way she sounded when she played her role of the dutiful daughter.

Sloane should ignore it. Mark the fear away, save it to use against Jordan later. Head over heart, right? Don’t show weakness, only strength.

Stopping to help counted as weakness, didn’t it?

Sloane needed to ignore it. They never should have let Jordan come.

“What is it?” Sloane asked softly, facing Jordan.

“I- I can’t go up there,” Jordan choked up. “Not the clock tower.”

Sloane didn’t press. They could see the pure terror and pain in Jordan, just from the thought. Pressing would only cause more hurt. They should be pressing, looking for a weakness, looking for a way in. But she couldn't.

Just another failure.

“That’s okay.” Sloane sat down on the roof, and dangled their legs off the edge. “I wanted to go up to look at the stars. But you can see them pretty well from here too.” She patted the spot next to her. “See?”

Jordan hesitantly laid down. “Why are we doing this?”

“Stargazing?” Sloane shrugged. “I don’t know, I think it’s fun.”

Jordan laughed, surprising them both. “No, not that. Why aren’t we fighting?”

“Do you want to?”

“Not particularly. I just want to know why.”

Sloane glanced away from the sky, looking towards Jordan. She was surprised to see Jordan’s fierce brown eyes already staring into her.

“We spend so much time hating each other, and for what? Neither of us get anything out of it.”

“You want to be friends?”

“I can’t see the harm in it. But, maybe not even friends. We’ve both caused so much hurt for that to be that easy. More like… more like a new beginning. Let us have a chance to ignore everything we are for a night, let us escape the world.”

“And we go back hating each other when we part?”

“If you want to. But I’m not backing down, and I doubt you are either. So maybe, just tonight we forget. Everything we are, everything we’re supposed to be.”

“Sloane?” Jordan asked softly. “We’re both disappointments aren’t we.”

Sloane sighed. “Yeah,” they whispered. “But they don’t know what they're missing out on.”

“You said you wanted to stargaze, right?” Jordan abruptly changed the subject. “You like the stars?”

“Yeah. They’re so far away, but still shining bright. These constellations… they aren’t mine. But they’re still fun to look at.”

“Show me the different constellations.” Jordan looked away from Sloane, her brown eyes reflecting a sea of silver.

Sloane laughed softly, and obliged, her long fingers tracing a pattern across the sky, connecting each small dot into a bigger picture.

They could feel Jordan’s warmth, just a hair breadth away, hear her lungs filling with air, and then exhaling.

Sloane’s heart rang in their ears, her hands yearning to reach out, slip into Jordan’s.

These emotions… she couldn’t be feeling them. Sloane was perfection. The perfect thief. No attachments. No emotions. She could do anything. Slip in, slip out. Leave nothing behind.

But this time, they knew it wouldn’t be like that. She’d leave behind a heart, ripped out of her chest, ripped out by the pain of choosing between Jordan and everything she was supposed to be.

Sloane was falling, falling, falling. Falling away from the golden girl she was supposed to be, that perfect thief, that unremorseful sinner, that person the other thieves looked up to.

But these emotions… they weren’t going away. Jordan wasn’t going away. Sloane couldn’t make her leave. Couldn’t bear it.

But that wonderful beat of her heart when Jordan was near. That flush in their cheeks, spring in her step. Sloane was alive, alive in the most wondrous of ways.

Sloane was flying, flying, flying. Flying away from who they were supposed to be, away from all the expectations, away from the pain, away from all the impossible choices.

Sloane wasn’t weak, she wasn’t a failure, she was Jordan’s, every inch of her.

If only Sloane believed it could be true.

#ty! #asks #celebration #kin celebrates 100 #happy pride #slordan #sloane #jordan #my writing #die tag #slordan my beloved 😌

[thepartyresponsible]

here’s a short, relatively fluffy fic about what happens when jason todd and clint barton, a pair of career criminals and expert thieves, steal the winter soldier.

and to the anon who asked for a fluffy fic featuring hot chocolate, blankets, and warm feels shared by clint, jason, and tony....um. i’m really sorry. i’ve had a lot of cold medication. my reading comprehension is compromised.

Popular opinion would no doubt suggest that stealing the Winter Soldier is the ballsiest heist Jason and Clint have ever pulled. Jason’s not sure he’d rank it that high. After all, their Batcave stunt was pretty egregiously ill-advised, and then there was the time they stole fifty grand worth of Kryptonite with the use of a clipboard and some fake EPA inspector badges they printed out at a public library.

But keeping the Winter Soldier. Yeah. Sure. That’s pretty ballsy.

No real other options, though. At least none that either of them could live with.

Jason knows they’re doomed the moment he hears the quiet horror in Clint’s voice, the way his words catch, just a little, when he says, “Um. Jay? I think it’s a person.”

Because stealing a serial killer robot from HYDRA and then handing it off to the League of Assassins for “decommissioning” is one thing, but turning over a living, breathing human being is another. He and Clint walk all kinds of fuzzy ethical lines. God knows even Selina gets shrill about their activities sometimes. But they don’t deal in people. Not ever.

“Okay,” Jason says, nudging Clint gently out of the way. “Go steal us something fast. I’ll handle this.”

Because, between the two of them, Clint’s got the softer heart. He doesn’t get fussy about what happens in an honest fight, but he can get downright melancholy about the necessities of after-battle cleanup, and Jason’s happy to spare him from it, when he can.  

So Clint goes to get them a car that’ll get them out of the country before Ra’s realizes he’s been screwed around, and Jason goes to hover over the Winter Soldier, freshly defrosted, still barely twitching his way back to consciousness.

And Jason’s not an asshole. Whatever this guy’s done, he hasn’t done it to Jason or anyone who belongs to him, so none of this is personal. It’s gonna be fast and easy, just a bullet between the eyebrows, but the Winter Soldier blinks his pretty eyes open, looks up the barrel of the gun, and stares right into Jason’s face.

“я готов отвечать,” he says.

Ready to comply, Jason thinks.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jason says.

And so, after that, Jason doesn’t have the heart to kill him, either.

  There’s a lot of yelling in the days that follow. From all conceivable sides. Ra’s al Ghul threatens every kind of unpleasant thing, and HYDRA hounds after them like they’re supposed to be scared of a group of megalomaniacal old cult assholes too creepy to get invited to the local Free Masons, and Selina calls Jason every day for a week to shriek at him about how she didn’t save him from the streets of Gotham so he could get murdered for stealing the world’s most brutal assassin.

“Selina, c’mon,” Jason says, muttering into the phone. Winter’s asleep in the backseat, shackled up like Houdini before a trick, and they’ve had a couple exciting moments, but he’s mostly just been quiet and kinda eerily empty-eyed. He keeps asking Jason about the mission. “He’s fine. I mean, he’s a little rough around the edges, sure. But I found Clint in a dumpster.”

“Hey,” Clint says, whisper-hissing at him from the passenger seat.

“And he looked great,” Jason tacks on quickly, with a wink he hopes will smooth things over. “Amazing. That dumpster didn’t know how lucky it had it.”

“You need to be careful,” Selina says. She put down two HYDRA goons this morning. They barged in on her in her pajamas, and she’s probably more pissed about getting caught with bed hair than having to dump two bodies before noon.

Although, she never was much of a morning person.

“We’re being careful,” Clint promises, leaning over to talk into the phone. “We couldn’t leave him, Selina. You didn’t see him. It was--- it was really bad.”

Selina’s quiet for a moment. “He’s an international criminal,” she says. And then, probably after she remembers that every single person in this conversation has their own personal INTERPOL file, she adds: “He’s an assassin.”

“I think he’s nice,” Clint says, stubborn and loyal. As always.

He only thinks that because Winter keeps trying to palm him extra food. Jason has to make a big show out of giving Clint food at the same time as he unlocks Winter for meals, or Winter will only eat half his food and then stash the rest so he can sneak it to Clint later.

Jason does not consider this behavior an endorsement of HYDRA’s caretaking expertise.

“He’d better be worth all the trouble,” Selina says. But she doesn’t mean it. Selina’s a thief and a liar and sometimes a killer, but she’s just like Clint, really. Softhearted for lost causes, both of them.

Jason can’t complain. It’s that shared weakness that brought both of them to him.

“Well,” Jason says, “if he’s not, we’ll just drop him with whatever country’s offering the biggest bounty.”

“That’s my boy,” Selina says. “But remember to start a bidding war first.”

  The thing about Winter is that he’s actually James Buchannan Barnes, Captain America’s best friend. He’s a Goddamn war hero, and HYDRA took him, tortured him, blended his brain, and made him kill people.

Jason grew up in Gotham, spent his formative years playing sidekick to Catwoman, so he’s seen some fucked-up situations. But it makes him sick, watching Winter work it out. Catching those sporadic flashes of Bucky Barnes, the miserable, devastated way he closes his eyes when the memories come, like it was better, somehow, when all he knew how to say was Yes, No, and Ready to comply.

And Clint was right. He is nice. He’s painfully sweet, really, in the way he frets over Clint until he figures out that Jason doesn’t actually run things, doesn’t own Clint, and sure as hell would never hurt him. And then he frets over both of them. Stoic and steely-eyed and stone-jawed, fretting like a Goddamn mother hen.

HYDRA wants him back, and Ra’s wants him dead, and Jason and Clint, as insistently and dramatically as they can, invite both of them to fuck right off.

They don’t really mean to keep him. Not forever. Just until people stop trying to murder him. Just until they can stash him in some nice town, where no one knows who he is, where he can go back to being Bucky Barnes full time and forget all about everything HYDRA made him into.

But people don’t stop. The whole world keeps coming after them. And Bucky, for his part, doesn’t want to leave them.

Six months in, Clint catches a bullet, and Bucky gets stolen, and Jason has to choose to leave Clint so he can go grab Bucky before they wipe him clean out of his own head. And Clint’s going to be fine, knows how to look after himself, didn’t get shot anywhere vital. But Jason crashes into that transport van with Clint’s blood on his hands, and it makes him crazy, a little. It makes him a nightmare.

So, afterwards, Selina brokers a meeting with Batman, and Jason goes, because Batman’s owed him a favor ever since that years-long game of tag he used to play with Nightwing resulted in him accidentally stumbling into a situation where he saved Nightwing’s life.

He doesn’t bring Clint, and he doesn’t bring Bucky, because he figures Batman’s not going to kill him, but he might throw him in prison. If he does, Selina will bust him out on principle, and she’d almost certainly do the same for Clint, but Bucky’s so new and so much trouble that she might just leave him where he’s less likely to get Jason killed.

“Look, Bats,” Jason says, when they’re finally standing uncomfortably on the same rooftop. “We don’t like each other. You’re the delusional iron fist of the bourgeoisie acting out your punishment kink on the unsuspecting poor, and I’m just a guy trying to make a living. But we gotta work together on this, okay? Or I’m gonna leak the porn I found on the Batcave computers.”

Batman takes a long breath in through his nose. He seems to visibly weigh out which issue to raise first. “You planted those files on the Batcave computers.”

And he hadn’t, actually. Clint did that. He’d spent the whole night before the job downloading Superman-themed porn, and he’d filled Jason’s laptop with so much malware that Jason eventually just burned the thing in a purifying pyre. But Jason had to admit that running those videos on every screen in the Batcave had resulted in a truly awe-inspiring, immersive experience.

“We were just trying to be supportive,” Jason says. “Anyway. Look. You owe me a favor.”

There’s a lot of back-and-forth after that, consisting mainly of Batman holding forth about how saving a life is its own reward and he doesn’t owe Jason a favor and Jason really needs to reconsider his life choices while he still has the opportunity to do so. But he seems to listen when Jason tells him what he knows about HYDRA, about how deep its infiltration of SHIELD and various world governments goes. He’s quiet when Jason talks about Bucky. And, when Jason hands over all their intel, he takes the flash drive readily enough.

“If this is more porn,” he says, holding up the flash drive, “I’m throwing all of you in Blackgate.”

“Jesus, Bats,” Jason says, not even trying to bite back a laugh. “If it had that much of an impact on you, you should do some solitary self-reflection about it. Maybe some of those documentaries we left for you could help.”

  Jason leaves Gotham and drives through the morning and afternoon and early evening, doubling and then tripling back on his route, making sure he’s not being followed. When he finally makes it to the safehouse, he’s shivery cold and dead tired. Bucky goes over his bike, checking for any trackers Jason might have missed, and Clint bullies him right into the shower.

Afterwards, Jason faceplants on the couch, and Clint hauls him up a few minutes later so he can press a mug of hot chocolate into his hands. “Drink this,” he says.

“Coffee,” Jason groans.

“No,” Clint says, as he settles next to him. “You’ve gotta sleep, you asshole. You’ve been up for three days straight.”

“Whiskey,” Jason tries, a little less plaintive and a little more mutinous.

Clint sighs. “I already put bourbon in there.”

Jason hums, appeased, and leans over to press a smacking kiss to Clint’s cheek. “You’re a fucking saint,” he says.

“Oh, a fucking saint,” Clint mutters, rolling his eyes. There’s a pleased blush settling along the lines of his cheekbones. “Didn’t know they made those.”

“The patron saint of fucking,” Jason declares, sipping at his hot chocolate. “Endowed with the power of---”

“This should be good,” Bucky mumbles, from across the room.

“Oh shit,” Jason says, and nearly sloshes the hot chocolate on himself. He tries not to talk about sex too much in front of Bucky. He tries not to think about sex too much in front of Bucky. He’s helplessly in love with Clint, and has been since he hauled him out of that dumpster in Gotham, but, as Winter fades and Bucky manifests more confidently in this new century, there’s been a growing tension between the three of them that Jason, frankly, has no idea what to do with.

“No, go on,” Bucky says, like this is the conversation he wants to have. Like he’s not the slightest bit curious about the mission Jason just ran, the one that’s supposed to clear his name, open a path that allows them to work with SHIELD to burn HYDRA to the ground. “He’s the patron saint of what, again?”

“Yeah,” Clint says, blinking at him with his innocent face in place. “What were you saying?”

Jason rolls his eyes and takes a pointed drink of his hot chocolate. It’s nice, he decides. That everyone’s comfortable enough to shit-talk him these days. Real refreshing. A Goddamn triumph of the resiliency of the human spirit.

“It went alright?” Bucky says, because he’s almost always the merciful one. Maybe he enjoys the novelty of it.

When he wanders over, he snags a blanket off the nearby chair, and he curls up on the end of the couch beside Clint, tossing the blanket over the three of them. He holds his hands out toward Jason, and Jason, without even thinking, passes his hot chocolate over. Bucky’s fingers brush Jason’s, and linger.

Jason isn’t making this shit up. He knows he isn’t.

First of all, he spends half his life watching people hit on Clint. He knows the signs.

Second of all, people get hot chocolate on their lips every day, but nobody licks it off like that unless they’re trying to plant ideas in people’s heads about what else those lips and tongue could do.

“Um,” Jason says, when he realizes they’re both staring at him. “Yeah. I mean. He didn’t throw me off a roof or put me in prison, so. I think he’s gonna help.”

Clint and Bucky exchange a look and then shrug. By their standards, that’s the start of a highly promising business relationship.

“Well,” Clint says, as he sprawls out, tucked in tight against Jason’s side, with a casual ankle hooked around one of Bucky’s. “You guys wanna watch Dog Cops?”

Jason figures, between the bourbon, and the blanket, and the warm weight of Clint’s body, he’s gonna be asleep in fifteen minutes. But he’d give Clint anything he asked for. “Sure,” he says, eyes already drifting closed. “Sounds great.”

  Two days later, they meet with a reserved, competent, endlessly unamused man named Phil Coulson. He doesn’t smile or laugh or seem to like them even a little bit. But he doesn’t try to kill them, either.

Four years later, they’re Strike Team Delta, and they’ve acquired Natasha Romanoff and a hell of a reputation. Coulson smiles more and yells more, and still hasn’t tried to kill them. Not once. Not even after Budapest.

HYDRA is ashes, and Bucky is theirs.

So what the hell. Maybe stealing the Winter Soldier wasn’t their ballsiest heist. But it was definitely their best.

#writing #fic

[love-fireflysong]

Until Dawn’s Fifth Birthday

Welp, congrats Until Dawn, you’re officially old enough to start kindergarten. You’re off to learn to read, tie your shoes, recite yous ABC’s, and learn to count to 100. Your such a big kid now, and I’m proud of you for making it this far.

I know I have done literal jack shit for the entire month, but I have been immensely enjoying the things that everyone’s been putting out for this month. So I’m gonna make this text post, not just because of it’s the five year anniversary, but because it’s actually a post I’ve been wanting to make for a while.

So here it goes:

I first learned of Until Dawn when it first came out hilariously enough. My roommate at the time had boughten it for her ps4 and I had been seeing it all over my dashboard on tumblr at the time. I didn’t play it myself though until close to a year later, when I finally had my own ps4 and I bought the game used for like $20 or something from my local game rental store. And I was hooked.

I remember jumping the first time the UD logo pulls that jump scare on the title screen. And laughing because I’m normally pretty good with jump scares, but that one managed to get me because I hadn’t been expecting one before I even started the game. (The one thing in the game that manages to make me jump every time is the mine cart you stop as Mike. For whatever reason it doesn’t matter how dark my room is when I play the game or how many times I’ve played it, I can never see the mine cart until its literally on top of Mike and the QTE is almost up and I squeak in surprise every fucking time.)  

Of course I didn’t manage to save everyone during my first playthrough, I definitely lost Matt to the hook and Ash to the trapdoor (RIP darlings), and for the life of me I can’t recall how the lodge scene at the end went. I’m one of those players though that try to make choices that the characters I’m playing as would, I throw my feelings by the wayside. For example, being in the shed when the game’s making me choose Ash or Josh, and I was debating on whether or not Chris would save the girl he’s had a major crush on for a while at least, or his best friend for the last ten years. I distinctly remember wincing and sucking in air through my teeth and going “Sorry Ash, bros before hoes” and choosing Josh. And then being confused and convinced that I misunderstood the instructions? I mean I wasn’t complaining, just really, really confused. I definitely choose Ash to live at the gun one though, like there was no hesitation. I watched the whole ‘only thing I’ve ever wanted to do with my time’ scene and talk and the moment control was given back to me, the gun was under Chris’s jaw and I fired.

I’m also one of the players that didn’t know that Josh had been behind everything until the reveal either. I had gotten Sam captured so I never got any of those clues and I managed to miss the other clues that hinted at it being a set up (like the bundle of newspapers). So until the reveal I was still convinced that someone was out there killing all of them. Listen, I like mystery games but I’m not very good at connecting the dots okay.

I think I stuck around for a couple of months, gorging myself of fanfiction (all ff.net stuff by the way, I can’t remember if I knew about ao3 at that point or not) but like all interests do with me, the obsession eventually faded (helped in a large part by the rampant Ashley hate going around at the time) and I moved on.

Until February of this year. I was trying to kill time till the end of March when Persona 5: Royal released and I decided to try and see how many games I could platinum until that point. I had made it through the ps3 tomb raider games, Prince of Persia 2008, and decided on replaying the Uncharted games because the ps4 collection didn’t have multiplayer trophies. I hadn’t even thought of replaying Until Dawn. I mean, I had looked at the case and I remembered the game fondly, but that was it. There was no urge or want. 

I was halfway through Among Thieves when I was bored and chilling time on Youtube. And because I had been watching a couple of videos for the treasure locations in Uncharted, one of the recommended videos for me was a game sins for the series. I decided sure why not, and watched it. And watched a few of his other ones as well, Until Dawn included.

That’s right, what got me back into the series wasn’t fond nostalgia for the characters or story. It was a fucking Game Sins video. I’m so sorry.

I was devouring UD content again. I spent like 2 or 3 weeks reading everything Chrashley (with the hyper-fixation for the game back came the ship, what can I say) based on ao3 that I could get my hands on. I was back into the tag on tumblr, going through art I remembered seeing way back when and looking at usernames that didn’t mean a thing then, but mean the world to me now. And then near the end of February, when the obsession was once again starting to flag, I decided to hell with it, and clicked on the The (Almost)s.

I’m not going to expunge all my praises for the story, everyone else has done that better then I ever could. But guys, it was so good. So so good. I was hooked back into the series once again, just as I was starting to flag. And when I saw that @queenofbaws had mentioned that she was tumblr... I didn’t do anything right away. Too scared really, figured she might find it creepy, so I didn’t do anything for like a week. And then I decided fuck it, sent a message about Chris giving Ash his sweater, and following her.

And that was it. I figured I would stick around to see the story completed and just dip. Not even make a splash, just enjoy the content from the sidelines and no one would know that I was here in the first place. Same old, same old. But that was also when I started turning around the kernel in my mind that Baby It’s Cold Outside (so hold me tight in your arms and don’t let go). I didn’t even intend to write it, it was just going to be the fanfic that lived in my mind for me to stew on before bed every night. But I couldn’t sleep one night, my brain was too on and the words just weren’t stopping, so I pulled out my computer and wrote the first part from Chris standing in the snow outside to him reaching the lodge at like 3 in the morning. 

I started becoming more involved in the fandom when queenie started her wip wednesdays and asked to be tagged. Hilariously enough, those days are what started me cross-stitching again too, I hadn’t touched the pattern in months at that point. So I started posting snippets of my writing, and that one day a week was the only thing pushing me to continue writing. By that point, I had stopped hanging around the edges, now trying to push myself closer into this little fandom circle. 

The day I posted the story, I was fucking terrified. It wasn’t my first story, not by a long shot, but I had always considered my writing to be shit. I thought I had good ideas, but I never felt that I was able to truly bring them to life. English and grammar had never been my best subject, I was always more of a math and physics person growing up. But then that first comment from @elliepollie came in and I almost burst into tears. I couldn’t believe that someone out there liked it so much, that they were willing to leave me a review in the first place. I’m still so blown away that she was willing to recommend it as a Chrashley story for other people to read. I think that was the point I stopped hesitantly pushing my way through, and I just kicked down the doors and just yelled ‘Hey fuckers! I’m here now and you are going to fucking deal with it!’.

That was the event that opened the floodgates for me. Suddenly I was talking to people, I had friends online with the same interests as me. I’ve written more in the last six months then I’ve done in the last ten years! I’m feeling inspired to create again. I actually went out to do the first commission I’ve ever requested (speaking of which, please please please go commisson @fudgeroach. I cannot wait until he can post and show you guys the stuff he drew for me. It was worth every fucking penny let me tell you.)

I’m going to be honest, Until Dawn isn’t my favourite game. Sure it has some of my fav lines (it had been years since I played the game, and the moment Jess started her rant outside the guest cabin I was screaming it along with her) and great characters, as horrible people as they all are, but it’s never been my favourite game and likely never will be. But Until Dawn has the best fandom I’ve ever been in and I’m so, so happy to have met and known every single person here. I seriously love every single person here so, so much. You all make my life better and I’m so happy to have all of you in it. Just to quote Chris because I can: “Every second I spend with you is all I ever wanted to do with my time.” This is how I feel. This is how I feel every goddamn day now.

So yeah, I got back into this fandom from a stupid Game Sins video. But by god if it wasn’t the best choice I’ve ever made.

(PS: for those wondering, I never did finish Uncharted 2. Maybe one day...) 

#until dawn #udanniversary #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

[pixxyofice]

You guys know how in PQ2 there are scenes that jokingly give the members of other teams Phantom Thief names? How these names were not the most serious, how they weren't exactly treated seriously?

Well. I decided I wanted to give a serious shot at trying to determine what the Investigation Team's Phantom Thief names would be. Note that due to a lack of familiarity with the SEES members that I won't be doing them; just the Investigation Team members.

The Phantom Thief Outfits are based on what someone's Image Of Rebellion is. The Phantom Thieves (usually) name themselves after the image their Phantom Thief outfit represents. If not that, then they are named after something meaningful to the Phantom Thief themselves (which can tangentially relate to the outfit in some way.)

For examples...

Joker looks like the traditional Gentleman Thief. His name relates to how his wild card ability makes him a useful asset up the sleeves of the thieves. The Joker's power can depend based on what game of cards you are playing, after all, sort of like... Well, Joker.

Queen looks like a post apocalyptic hero, which are usually in Very Badass Action Scenes. Cool scarves, odd outfits, spikes and metal armor... Very cool. As someone with a position of power, she can be seen as a sort of 'ruler'... A Queen.

Noir looks like a musketeer. Traditionally defenders of justice, known for a tale where they fight off evil to their kingdom. Noir named herself that because she views herself as working on the darker side of the law... hence the French word for black. (Which actually fits her thief outfit a lot! The french, I mean.)

So when giving the IT thief names, we have to consider what their personal images of rebellion would look like. Along with that, we have to consider what they would name themselves based on those images.

Let's get started.

Souji Seta/Yu Narukami. (I prefer Souji, so that is the name i'm going to use.)

Souji's image of rebellion very likely closely resembles his Persona. What was his persona based off of... A banchou or something? Kingpin, whatever. His image of rebellion seems to be a cool, collected, intimidating figure. See his Persona and also how he dressed up for the cross dressing pageant. His mask could look very similar to Izanagi's mask.

As Souji is similar-ish to Joker, I reasoned that Souji would be named in a similar manner. He is the leader of the team, the level head making the decisions... And a Wild Card. His look is intimidating, like a Kingpin, so... Name him after a strong card in a deck, or the central piece of a chess board: King. (After all, if he falls, the game is over.)

Yosuke Hanamura.

I'll be real with you. I thought image of rebellion for Yosuke, and I thought Superheroes. Sure, his first persona looks like a Ninja... But all of his Personas have a Hero Vibe to them, yeah? And he wanted to look into the TV world because he wanted to be a hero... So, Superhero Costume. His mask would probably be that Traditional Superhero Mask.

As for his codename? Knowing him, he'd probably try to come up with something Cool. Hero Sounding. I am not good with names, alas, but... What I came up with is Galestorm. It fits his wind vibes, it's a cool sounding word... Uh... I dunno. It fits him maybe!!

Chie Satonaka.

Let's be real here. Her image of rebellion is TOTALLY the protagonists of kung-fu movies. She would probably wear a yellow tracksuit, like her Persona, which.... Yeah, reference. As for her mask? ... Haha I have no idea, y'all come up with one.

As for her name.... Well, Dragon. As in Trial Of The Dragon. Alongside that nifty reference, Dragons, as mythical creatures go, could very well fit Chie. Protective, aggressive towards those it deems a threat, a fiery attitude... Its pretty good! Maybe!

Yukiko Amagi.

Yukiko Amagi's image of rebellion is likely closely related to birds. You look at her outfit and you probably think 'bird'. Remember in the Anime how Yukiko admired her pet bird for being able to fly free? Yeah. That. That's why her image of rebellion would be birdlike. Her mask could resemble plague doctor masks, somewhat. Think a less pointy Prince Akechi and also it covers more of her forehead for Beak.

As for her name? She would likely connect the feathers on her outfit to the attachments of her Persona, which represent... Sakura Petals/Blossoms. She probably had a thought jump from "sakura" to "flower terms", and probably prefers Blossom out of the two terms she thought of. It sounds pretty... But also has a tougher name Feel than Petal. Blossom sounds more like a codename, too!

Kanji Tatsumi.

Lets be real here. There's a reason the Thieves named him Skull 2.0. Their images of rebellion would be... similar? Kanji's is influenced by various outside factors, including a certain manly push, but still. His costume would probably represent his punk ideal... maybe subtly mix in his preference for cute things here and there in accessories? Dunno.

As for his codename? Well, he looks tough, and he is tough! He's the one to point to if you want someone to smack people down. Call him... Breaker. Because he breaks things. (Additional thing I only realized and laughed at now: he's an electric user. Aren't Breakers also the names of the things you use to control whats powered in the house...?)

Rise Kujikawa.

I'll be honest, I... Have no clue. In the version of this post that I lost, I think I HAD a clue, but it went with the wind. If I were to think, though... Maybe her image of rebellion is... sorta like Panther's. She has an image of a woman who is assured of herself, knows herself and her friends, and reflects their brightest points. A somewhat revealing outfit, but one that's... mature? I don't know... Her mask would probably resemble Himiko's "face" of solar panels (somehow).

As for her codename... Let's think about how she's the IT's support. Or... Well, her Persona. Her Maxed Persona has a solar system orbiting around her, with the Persona itself being the very center, like a sun. The Investigation Team could be like those planets; strong and sturdy on their own, thriving with the touch of the sun. She's like... Sunlight is necessary for a human to live, and she provides that sunlight for her teammates to stand even taller. With her outfit idea in mind... Sunlight sounds too "young". So perhaps Sunbeam for her codename. Same idea, but sounds Better!

Teddie.

...... Hey, before I just go right out and say it... Technically... Aren't both of Teddie's forms some form of rebellion from the other Shadows? He formed his bear image so he could be loved by humans, and then formed his human image so he could be with his human friends. That... That's rather unique, isn't it? Could be a rebellion in itself.

... And now for me to just say... It's Ted. Teddie gets the Morgana treatment here. A shortened version of his name that just sums up that, yep, he sure is a bear that helps in fighting shadows. No fancy name for him.

Naoto Shirogane.

Naoto's image of rebellion is rather simple, honestly! ... The outfits of the heroes of shows like Neo Featherman! Sure, Naoto admires detectives and loves reading/watching detective things... But thats not their image of rebellion. When they think rebel, they think of posing live action heroes, fighting bad guys regardless of the laws! As for their mask... Uh. Bandana across face look. Also worth noting: their Persona's little wing/cape thing would Definitely be a part of their thief outfit.

As for their name... Naoto would probably go with something on the simpler side. Their outfit reminds them of their Persona, who is bug based, and thus, bug theme names. Wasp... Beetle... Moth. Moth fits their Persona's wing/cape thing the most, and sounds sort of soft... But if you underestimate Naoto, they'll show you that their softer name hides a brain of steel and a quick trigger finger.

So... The Investigation Thieves are:

Souji Seta/Yu Narukami - King

Yosuke Hanamura - Galestorm

Chie Satonaka - Dragon

Yukiko Amagi - Blossom

Kanji Tatsumi - Breaker

Rise Kujikawa - Sunbeam

Teddie - Ted

Naoto Shirogane - Moth

What do you guys think? Should I have come up with better names? Reblog/Tag with your thoughts!

please I know there could be better names for Yosuke and I know someone out there has a good Rise Thief Image, please

#persona 4 #persona 5 #pq2 #persona q2 #long post #yosuke hanamura #chie satanoka #yukiko amagi #kanji tatsumi #rise kujikawa #teddie #naoto shirogane #souji seta #yu narukami #there. the IT.

[s1cparvism4gna]

I Like You A Lot

WARNINGS: violence and cursing

Pairings: Chloe Frazer x Nadine Ross x OC

Tags: @desertvvitch , @courtenbae

Chapter 10

Sunny’s POV

“We are….right about here. I can mark it up as we go along.” Chloe said, pointing to the bottom of the wrinkled map in her hands. I stood up in the 4x4 to look at the view. Clearly in the distance, there was a tall mossy tower. Vines beginning to climb its base as fog circled around the tippy top of it.

“That tower looks like it’s smack dab in the middle of everything.”

“Mm. Probably could get a good lay of the land from there.” Nadine added, knowing exactly where I was going with it. After a bit of conversation on the way over, the three of us managed to find a way to gel. Like an oiled machine. Barely working but it got shit done.

“Right then. So we have a plan. Get to the tower. Nadine, you keep an eye out for Asav. Not that I’m too worried about him.” Chloe shrugged, starting up the car.

“You should be. We won’t have the advantage of surprise again. I don’t think he was expecting much from you… Either of you really.” Nadine said, looking off somewhere. Chloe dramatically stopped the car.

“I’m sorry- did you just give us a compliment?” She smirked, looking back at me. I smiled small.

“Sounded like she did…” I tilted my head, matching eyes with her in the side view mirror and she shook her head with a light scoff.

“His guys are idiots but Asav…. look, we just need to stay the hell away from him.” She warned us. The way she spoke about him seemed to shake her a bit. I wondered what he did that got her so spooked. Chloe continued to drive like a maniac through the half dried up vallies. Much like Nathan did, she took the opportunity to drive over every rock and slope she could find. Every drop gave me a heart attack, every slip back worried the hell out of me. And yet… I felt totally safe with her driving the car. I could take a nap in this little bumpy ride and wake up unworried. Wouldn’t recommend it though… In a strange sort of comfort, I leaned my head back and looked at the clear skies and the ruins as we drove beneath the sculpted bridges and such.

“I never understood the appeal of people like Asav…” Chloe said randomly, filling the silence once again.

“It’s simple. He finds men who are weak and offers them power.” Nadine answered simply. “Gives them purpose.”

“Sounds like bullshit to me.” I commented and Chloe agreed. Then I figured maybe I’d start talking. I was going to be stuck with these two for a while. Might as well… “How’d you get caught up with this guy anyways, Nadine?”

“‘Purpose?’” Chloe mocked and I chuckled, hitting her shoulder playfully. Nadine grimaced and flared her nostrils.

“Rather not go into it.” She simply stated.

“He certainly seemed to have a thing for you.” Chloe teased. I raised my brows and moved to the middle of the backseat.

“Hwat?!” I exclaimed.

“Don’t remind me. Proved useful at the time but…. ja.” She brushed over the subject very quickly.

“And again I say- HWAT?!” I blinked at her, seeing her in a different light. Through everything, I somehow had forgotten that she was a woman above all things.

“Uh...do tell!!!” Chloe prodded in excitement. Finally, a conversation worth having.

“Rather not.” Nadine said, shutting it down quickly.

“Over drinks?” Chloe was adamant on getting her fill of gossip for the day but Nadine wasn’t having it.

“Not enough alcohol in the world.”

“Damn… and you talked about my taste in men….” I chuckled, leaning back in my seat as we drove along a shallow ravine.

“Well I don’t go sleeping around with two bit thieves.” Nadine commented.

“No. You just go sleepin’ around with spoiled emo rich kids and psycho warlords.” I fired back rather quickly. I smirked.

“Alright, you two. Enough.” Chloe giggled, changing the subject. She nudged Nadine in her side. “So you’re the military expert. What’s his strategy here?”

“He’s spread out his men. Hoping to stop us in our tracks. Rookie move on his part. Not what I would do…” she said.

“And what would you do, Nadine?” I asked. I somewhat cared but I also didn’t. Warming up to her was a challenge when she could be so snippy.

“Besides lose the beard?” She began. I chuckled. ‘Is that a sense of humor?’ I thought with a small smile as she spoke. “I’d hang back. Let you do all the heavy lifting then swoop in the grab the tusk once you’ve done all the hard work.” It was brutal but efficient.

“Jesus, Ross…” I crinkled my brows as I looked at her and she just shrugged.

“You asked.” She mumbled.

We continued to drive about. Slowly but surely I was beginning to get annoyed with Chloe’s driving. She kept running under waterfalls, thinking it was funny. It was cute the first time. But after the third and fourth time, I was just cold and wet. We dried off some as we waited for Chloe to climb and examine the tower. As it turned out, there were symbols inside pointing us in the direction of each temple ruin. And with that, we started off for the first one. We drove up some cliffs to the top of a waterfall and suddenly slowed down. There was a big truck parked in front of one of the ruins.

“Asav’s men?” I asked.

“Ja.” Nadine whispered.

“Let’s get going then, ladies.” Chloe said, parking the 4x4 behind the truck and grabbing her gun as she hopped out of the car. I checked the clips in my guns to make sure I was good and followed suit.

We climbed the platform to be met with a structure that looked like the remnants of a temple. Carved into the stone was the shape of a trident, a motif carved into the very top of the ruin that was quite similar to Chloe’s disc. “Ganesh. Remover of Obstacles….” I heard Nadine mumble as I tightened the strap on my gun over my shoulder.

“Where’d you learn that?” I asked stupidly.

“Picked up a book. Same as you…” I heard her voice trail off as if she were distracted. When I looked up, she was staring at Chloe as she let her dark tresses down from her ponytail to wring out her hair. She blinked a moment and then looked away, flustered as she threw her hair back up into a new ponytail and began marking her map. I smirked. She was totally into her. It was clear as day. Poor Nadine thought no one noticed but I did. Compared to her two psycho exes, Chloe was a huge step up. Wasn’t exactly sure if I approved yet though.

“Alright, you lot. Let’s go.” Chloe ordered and we followed her into the temple.

Asav’s men were pacing at their posts all over the place. I had to give it to this guy. He suckered a lot of sorry saps to their deaths for this job. Poor bastards would never know what hit them. “Is the gate secured?!” I heard a man yell as the three of us crouched low in a patch of grass then taking cover behind a fallen pillar.

“Not yet! Waiting on Cobra B!” Another answered.

“Oi! Let’s keep this quiet, ja?” Nadine whispered to us. “Spurrs, have you still got that silencer?” She asked me. I rolled my eyes and groaned. I wanted to blow things up, make some noise. But Nadine, on the other hand, wanted to do everything quickly and quietly.

“Yeah I still got it on me…” I replied sadly.

“Good. So would you mind…?” She nodded towards one of the men pacing atop a singular platform with a machine gun resting on his shoulder lazily. I clicked off the safety and huffed.

“I got it.” I mumbled. Chloe just chuckled and rubbed my back.

“There’ll be plenty of time for more fun, later, Sunny.” She told me. I gave her a small smile before running the same plan as before. I ran through first, thinned out the group at the higher points. Then Chloe and Nadine would take out the others on the ground. We got away with it again but something was telling me that was the last time we’d be able to pull this off. The group was cleared as we watched Chloe deliver a final blow to a man’s jaw and she shook her hand to relieve the pain.

“Woo! You alright?” I heard her ask Nadine.

“Besides working for a reckless treasure hunter… ja. I’m good.” She responded. Chloe blew her bangs from her face and rolled her eyes. I joined the two at the end of the field and took a look at my surroundings.

“What is this place? Or what was it rather…” I asked Chloe.

“Honestly… hard to say. A fortress maybe? It’s not the right layout for a temple.” She told us, walking towards a ruin that housed an odd looking circular mechanism on the gate. Guess I was wrong about the place. We began pulling and pressing on the spokes of the wheel but it wouldn’t budge. “Hmm… how the hell—” Suddenly, I ran my hand over the middle. If there was something I learned from Nathan, it was to press everything. As I pressed it quickly, each spoke flipped revealing a carved golden side. “How’d you do that?”

“Natey presses things all the time. Looked like a button so I gave it a shot.”

“Huh…” She hummed curiously as we heard multiple clicks beneath us and in the distance. She looked behind her and a mechanism that looked similar to the wheel appeared on the ground. “What do you do….” She crouched low and placed a hand on the handle, turning it and pressing it into the ground. There was a low creak and a spoke on the wheel behind Nadine and I made a sound. A lock retracted when she did whatever she did. Chloe mumbled something inaudible to herself as Nadine called for her attention.

“One of the spokes just turned around.” She told her. Chloe chewed on her lip as we approached her.

“I saw a couple thingies like this one around the ruins on the way over.” I told her.

“Right. So let’s turn the others.” She said, stretching her arms. The three of us split up and turned the other nodules. It didn’t take very long for us to find them.

“Now back to the big wheel thing…” I said to myself after we made sure we got them all.

When we got back to the gate, Chloe took a spin of the wheel and the stone gate began to lift. “Teamwork makes the dream work, eh?” I smiled as it slowly rose. Suddenly, the door had gotten stuck about a foot and a half from the ground.

“Oh you’re kidding me…” Nadine groaned as we looked beneath it.

“Guess we’re going under…” Chloe commented as she crawled beneath it. Not wanting it to fall on me before we could get through, I crawled in right behind her without a second thought. Nadine followed behind me and just as her foot passed the threshold, the gate dropped closed behind her. It didn’t seem to freak her out at all though. I shook the nerves off and followed Chloe around a wall where we were met with a set of steps that led to what looked like a little stone gazebo and a mechanism in the middle of it. There was a gorgeous view of waterfalls and mountains from here. It was breathtaking really. Much like I tended to do (because I just love psyching myself out), I walked to the edge and looked down at how high up we were. ‘Fuck…’ I thought as I pulled away to bring my attention to the mechanism. There was a puzzle all jumbled up and right beneath it was a circular slot. I ran my fingers over it ready to solve whatever it was but there was nothing to move it with. Chloe suddenly hummed and pulled her disc from earlier out.

“What are you willing to bet…” she said, pressing the disc into the slot. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle lifted from their locked positions. A smirk formed on her lips as she gestured to me. “All you.” She said, leaving me to quickly solve the ancient Hoysala jigsaw puzzle. I turned the pieces all together so that they’d fit and formed the image of a trident before locking together and back down into its base. Just as it clicked, the entire puzzle panel flipped revealing a beautifully carved image of elephant diety. I jumped back a bit as two poles then sprung out from the sides suddenly. “Well hello, sir!” Chloe commented respectfully, looking over my shoulder.

“Now what?” Nadine asked.

“I guess we turn the crank? See what happens next...” I guessed, putting my hands on one of the poles, ready to push. Chloe got on the other side to do the same but Nadine but a hand on her arm to stop her a second.

“Is it safe?” She asked in a rather sheepish tone; one very out of character for Nadine Ross. Chloe just chuckled.

“Y’know, treasure hunting isn’t a good gig for the risk-averse, right?” She joked.

“Neither is being a mercenary. Difference is- when I pull a pin on a grenade, I know what's going to happen next.” Nadine took a few steps back to let us do our thing. Chloe shrugged.

“My ways much more fun.” She said, winking at me.

I smiled and the two of us began to turn the crank. After a few seconds, we could hear a low rumble and it began to feed out into the floor below us. “You hear that?”

“You feel that?” Nadine asked, looking at her feet.

“What the hell…” I mumbled, looking around. Suddenly, behind us, we could hear the splashes of running water. “Yo….” I whispered in awe as we all looked over the edge. Nadine stood to look out at the view and tapped Chloe on the shoulder.

“Guys, look…” she said pointing to a mountain out before us. Chloe pulled out her binoculars and peered at it curiously. A bright smile pulled on her lips.

“There is a massive relief carved into the side of that mountain.” she said, handing me the binoculars to look for myself. In full view, there was a gorgeous elaborate carving with a bit of water streaming down the front of it. I chuckled and handed them to Nadine so she could see it as well. “And you were worried that we were going to turn that crank and die…” She seemed rather amused by her paranoia. Nadine just smiled nervously and looked into the binoculars. I looked at the pair of them together. It was still odd but maybe…

“Guess it’s good we’ve got an archaeologist’s daughter with us.” She commented. Nadine missed it but Chloe’s smile suddenly fell as she went into thought. “That must’ve been fun growing up, eh?”

“It had its moments… and I learned a lot… Hoysala Empire was kinda his thing.” she said, seeming as if she were trying to talk herself into believing something was better than it was. Trying to find the bright side in it as she’d done with everything in life. She leaned against a pillar and looked at her swollen knuckles, picking the dirt from beneath her bloodied nails. Then she gave a big sigh. “Took up a lot of his time though...” She said. Nadine and I looked at her as she chewed on her lip, looking out at the view pensively. I was beginning to understand. He wasn’t around a lot because of it. She just wanted to be with her father and he was probably too busy to see that. I knew that feeling all too well myself. I leaned on the bar of the crank as she continued. “Me, if I go digging for treasure, I’d better make a buck or two…”

“Sure. I don’t take risks without a good payday.” Nadine looked back at her with a gentle smile. My eyes widened a little. I’d never seen her look so innocent before. It was almost cute. I stayed quiet like a little fangirl to watch their interactions.

“Much like running an army, huh? That’s a big responsibility.” Chloe commented, gearing the conversation back towards her. Nadine always seemed uncomfortable talking about her life. Much like Chloe did. She winced as she turned back to the view, staring at the flock of birds that flew by.

“Second nature. It was my father’s business. He retired, I took over.” She said simply and militantly. When she did talk about herself, it was interesting to hear. It was like she was a human being or something and not a raging bitch for once.

“Family business… Made a real mess of it.” Chloe said rather insensitively. I raised a brow at her and chuckled at her.

“Well you should know. Like Spurrs, here, I heard you and those Drake brothers are close.” She retorted, throwing me into the mix as she handed back her binoculars. And just like that, we were back to square one. I scoffed at the nerve she had to bring them up like that. I stood up and started down the stairs. Chloe looked between the two of us awkwardly as she looked into her binoculars again.

“Yeah well, that’s a conversation for another time…” she said brushing the subject but Nadine wouldn’t let it go.

“If they didn’t tell you, I’m sure Sunny did.” She said. I made a face and turned my head to look at her.

“Why are you pokin’ the bear for? It’s done. Libertalia is done. It’s over. No reason to dwell on it.” I said as calmly as possible, sitting at the foot of the steps and lighting myself a cigarette. Nadine grunted as she turned back to face the mountains.

“So where to now?” She asked Chloe.

“Well there’s another fort embedded in the mountains that way. I’d say that’s a start. And definitely that fort in the lakebed.” Chloe answered, tucking her binoculars away and pulling out her map.

“Let’s get going then.” Nadine sighed. Yet and still, she just couldn’t drop the subject. “I suppose I should’ve asked about the Drakes before I took this job.” She said. I took a big drag and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke as I shook my head, chuckling in annoyance.

“Not much to tell.” Chloe said as she began to mark down the forts on her map. “I know Nate pretty well. Sam less so. He just seemed to fall right into my lap.” I chuckled at the irony.

“I’m sure he did…” I commented sourly. Chloe, thinking I was being funny, giggled mischievously. I shook my head as Nadine looked between the two of us.

“What- you slept with him, too?” She asked her in disgust, putting two and two together. My heart skipped. ‘Shit…’ I thought, tossing my cigarette over the edge in frustration. I began bouncing my knee anxiously, knowing exactly where this conversation was headed. Chloe peeked up from her map, narrowing her eyes at her.

“What do you mean ‘too’?” She asked. I groaned.

“You and Spurrs, I mean. Hell, he’s practically her boyfriend-” Nadine elaborated.

“He’s not my boyfriend-” I snapped.

“Ja. Like I believe that. I do have eyes, Sunny.” She laughed briefly. I turned to look at the pair and Chloe was looking at me in surprise. “I saw the way he looked at you. How he protected you from Rafe in Libertalia every chance he got. It was obvious you two were together. And if either of you thought you were hiding it, you were doing a piss poor job of it.”

“Sam’s your boyfriend?!” Chloe asked as her face seemed to pale.

“He is not my boyfriend!!!” I exclaimed, covering my face in frustration.

“Isn’t he though?” Nadine fired back. I was having a flashback from my conversation with Sully when he said something similar. I had nothing else to say. So I opted to stay quiet.

“Sunflower…” I heard Chloe mumble softly.

“Have you finished markin’ up that map? If so, we should go. I wanna stay ahead of this Asav guy. Never met him and I don’t really plan to.” I said abruptly, standing to leave down the stairs and around the wall. My heart was pounding. I was nervous, I was embarrassed, I was angry. There were so many things to feel in that moment and it took everything in me to hold back a couple years. I sniffled and took a few deep breaths to center myself again. The girls followed behind me and Chloe couldn’t seem to stop looking at me. She didn’t know the full story but she knew something was wrong. She looked as though she’d done something stupid and didn’t know how to apologize for it. But in truth, she had nothing to apologize for. She didn’t do anything wrong. When I really thought about it, I wasn’t even mad at her. It was Sam and how he practically lied to me again. ‘Must come with the Drake territory… all that damn lyin’...’ I thought as Nadine approached me. She looked rather guilty but it was too late for that.

“Spurrs, I-”

“Just don’t. Help me lift this.” I said, dismissing whatever it was she had to say. She just nodded and bent her knees to help me lift the excessively heavy gate.

“You’ve got it?” She asked me and I nodded.

“Chloe, go!” I grunted, struggling to hold the stone gate up as she crawled under. Then she held it up from the other side. “Go.” I told Nadine, then she crawled under and held it up as well. I crawled through last and they dropped the heavy door as soon as I was out from under it. Without speaking to either of them, I started across the fort for the 4x4.

Just as I was walking by a ruin, I’d gotten a glimpse of a man in a generic camouflage uniform coming our way. My eyes widened and I turned on my heel very quickly, dipping around the corner to take cover. Chloe and Nadine stopped in their tracks as they watched me press my back against the stoney platform and I mouthed for them to back off; waving at them as they silently got the hint and took cover themselves. I could see their heads peeping at me from behind their corners. I rolled my eyes when suddenly the man walked right by me. He didn’t even notice my presence against the wall; his tunnel vision was clearly geared towards the gate we’d just left from. I did a quick once over of the weapons on his person and my eyes lit up at the sight of the massive knife tucked in its holster. With quick reflex and an excited smirk, I adjusted the gun in my hand to bust the heavy hilt upside the back of his head. Grunting briefly, he passed out and fell back into my arms. I laid him in the shallow water gently so as to not make more noise and patted him down for everything he had. Including that beautiful knife. The girls appeared from their corners, weapons drawn and anxious expressions on their faces. They carefully stalked over to me, bending to meet my level.

“Reinforcements are on their way. They must’ve seen the car.” I told them as I stole this man’s M39. I held it up and checked it’s clip that happened to be damn near full. “If we split up-”

“No! We don’t split up. That’s a sure fire way to get us all killed.” Nadine whisper-fussed at me, her eyes darting between me and the direction the man had just come from.

“Nadine, we don’t have a choice!” I snapped in a hushed tone when suddenly the man’s communication device began to produce a bit of static. This guy’s comrade started asking questions.

“Sadik! Do you see those mongrels?” We heard his voice say. Chloe made a face as we stared at the device.

“Rude.” She commented. Neither of us knew what to do.

“Well shit, do we answer it?” I asked Nadine.

“Why are you asking me?”

“You’re the grown up here.” I told her.

“You’re not twelve, Sunny!” She snapped as the static began to come through again.

“Sadik! Brother? Are you there?!” The man’s voice said again. I was getting worried. He obviously knew something wasn’t right and was surely sending more boots our way. I looked up at Chloe as she chewed on her lip.

“Fuck it.” She eventually said, turning down the volume of his device and pulling her own gun off of her shoulder. “No guts, no glory, right?” I could feel that familiar surge of adrenaline pumping and I knew that I was finally going to get the fight I’d been waiting for.

It seemed to be every woman for themselves for the immediate second. Chloe and Nadine peeled off in different directions and I climbed the ruin in front of me, hiding behind the corner of a pillar. I peeked from behind to scope out just how many there were out there. And it was a nice little amount, too. I took a deep breath and watched as they began to split up. I aimed my pistol at a few men, shooting a few down one by one as the strategy seemed to be. When enough were down, I suddenly noticed Chloe recklessly jumping from the top of a ruin, striking a man across his jaw and bringing him down. She began to fire her guns almost immediately. Nadine had begun throwing her signature kicks, conserving her ammunition by using hand to hand combat instead of using her weapon. Gunfire began to ring out as I tucked my pistol away and began to use the stolen machine gun. I jumped from my spot and began powering through, my muscles resisting against the power of the gun as men dropped like flies. Unfortunately, the fight didn’t last as long as I had hoped. It was underwhelming compared to what Nadine brought to us in Libertalia. If anything, I had to give that to her. I groaned as I watched Chloe knock out the last man and started for the car. I could feel a set of eyes on the back of my neck as I walked away. But considering my options as to who’s eyes, I could’ve cared less. Just as I was about to climb the wall that led us back to the 4x4, I felt a gentle hand on my back. I was turned to be met with Nadine. She seemed a bit awkward. She was the type that wasn’t used to apologizing and I could tell that. But lord did she try…

“You handled yourself well back there. Both of you really... all things considered…” she said looking at the ground and picking at her cuticles. Chloe gave an airy laugh and placed her hands on her hips.

“All things considered? That’s high praise coming from you.” She said. I was still fuming from her little stunt earlier. Although I had mentally accepted her apology thirty minutes ago, I still felt indifferent. Staring at her, the stone like expression on my face never changed.

“I don’t want your praise.” I said simply before climbing the wall. Reluctantly, I bent down to reach out and help her up. She looked at me in confusion and I just waved my hand in her face. “If you don’t take it, I’m gonna leave you. And I have no problem doin’ that right now.” I told her sternly. Nadine pursed her lips and took my hand as I assisted her up. Then we helped Chloe.

When we got in the car, we sat in silence for a moment, just catching our breaths. I leaned my head in my hand against the car door as I looked out along the scenery. I should’ve been enjoying myself but there I was, just bitter. It was a sticky situation. And the more I thought about what happened, the more upset I became with Sam. All I could really think to ask was “why”. I rubbed an itch away from my nose and blinked away the stinging sensation in my eyes that began to come about. Once again, Chloe broke the silence. She turned to Nadine and looked her dead in her eyes. The younger yet more mature woman looked like a deer in headlights for the moment as she explored Chloe’s grey eyes.

“Just so you know… Nathan Drake is no longer in the picture. So you have absolutely nothing to worry about…” I heard her say. I forced out a laugh at the irony. ‘Can’t tell her about Sam though, can you, Frazer?’ I thought, biting the knuckle of my finger. Then she suddenly turned to me. “Sunny—”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s done. He’s a single man. He can do what he wants. I haven’t seen him in months anyway…” I told her a half truth… or a skewered one rather. Chloe just nodded and turned around in her seat.

“Guess we’ll start for the mountain side then. Since it’s closer…”

“Ja. That’d be best…” Nadine mumbled. Chloe looked at me from the rear view mirror with raised brows.

“Sunny, love? You still on board?” She asked me. In all actuality, I couldn’t really afford to go home. So I sighed and nodded.

“Yeah.” I answered, defeatedly. And with that, we started down the shallow rapids and onto the next fortress.

Read more on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26555698/chapters/64735600

#poc #poc oc #uncharted headcanon #ao3 author #nadine ross #chloe frazer #chlodine #uncharted lost legacy #uncharted oc #uncharted imagine #sam drake x oc #Sam drake #Samuel drake #Asav #uncharted 4 #sam drake headcanons #sam drake fanfiction #chlodine headcanons

[squidproquoclarice]

This is a bit of fic for @prairiemule, since her exchange piece unfortunately got delayed, and she’s awesome and deserves all the love.  She requested some Arthur/John bro-times, so hopefully this fits the bill! ~~~~~~~~~~ April 1890 Rathelind’s Ford, Wyoming Spring had finally arrived, and they’d emerged from the melting snows, soon to say goodbye to the cabin.  Dutch and Hosea were busy making the year’s plans, deciding what fools and gullible sorts they’d go target this season--he’d overheard talk about Oregon banks.  Bank jobs he wouldn’t be involved in, of course, though he was more than ready.  Soon enough they’d be off again, on the move like the geese winging their way overhead in an almighty commotion.  Back home, John supposed.  Wherever home was for geese, anyway.  Maybe those birds had no more of a settled place than their family did, and home was wherever they stayed for a time.  Didn’t seem to hurt them living like that. Today, Susan and Bessie had sent him and Arthur with the wagon to go get supplies.  Arthur was engaging in his favorite habit, as usual--namely, trying to torment John.  Never seemed to be a thing that John tried to do that Arthur didn’t casually come along and make him look the fool by doing it with ease. Including driving a wagon and team.   Including growing a stupid beard.   He’d sprouted up another six inches in the last year, bones aching and stomach constantly rumbling, and when he’d shown pride in those few whiskers gracing his chin, Arthur promptly went and stopped shaving.  Claiming it kept his face warmer in the cold anyway.  Kept the damn beard the whole winter, keeping it close-cropped, just to annoy John with it.  Mute testimony of I’m a grown man, you’re still a little boy. He wouldn’t always be, though.  Things were changing.  He’d be a man soon enough.  Though he could only hope he’d grow another few inches and be taller than Arthur at least.  Have that one thing to call his own.    He glanced over at Arthur, holding the reins with casual competence.  “I can drive, you know.” Arthur shrugged.  “Suit yourself.”  Handed them over, and sat back on the seat, though John saw how he kept the repeater close at hand, just in case of trouble, or dinner.  That went far too easy.  Most everything felt like a big argument to show he could do something, but Arthur had yielded without any fuss at all.   His big mouth ran away with him, as it often did, before his brain could catch up.  “What, you gonna finally admit I ain’t some snot-nosed little boy no more?” Arthur took that in a strange sort of silence for a moment, and when he spoke, there was something heavy and dark, like a rough lump of lead, in his voice.  “Maybe.  Not sure we ever really was kids.” Peculiar remark, at least at first.  Arthur had been in short pants once, though John could barely imagine him as the whiskerless, high-voiced, half-grown brat Hosea and Dutch sometimes talked about finding in some San Francisco alley.  Of course they’d been kids.

But then he thought he understood it.  He’d killed a man before they found him.  Hadn’t intended it, but all the same.  He hadn’t been running around playing tag, painting fences, tugging at girls’ braids, and whatever other silliness people wrote about boys doing in the books Hosea kept pushing at him.  “Maybe.”  It sounded grown up, being able to agree and say he saw what Arthur meant.

He saw that Arthur’s mouth twitched for a moment, as if unsure whether he wanted to smile or frown at that.  “Guess you are growing up, then.”  

He couldn’t help but feel a golden swell of pleasure at that, an inner warm glow like a swallow of good whiskey nicked from Dutch’s hidden supply.  Hosea was kind, and Dutch said a lot of things, but outside of jobs, Arthur didn’t deal in bullshit.  For him to say a thing like that, he meant it.  “Took you long enough to see it.”

Arthur gave a little snort of amusement.  “Don’t get too cocky.  Being a man’s about more than growing whiskers and outgrowing your clothes.”  There it was--the usual casual shove to push John back down a bit.  But even that couldn’t dim the happiness.

He couldn’t resist firing back, “Even Dutch says it.”  He knew how much Arthur idolized Dutch, how Dutch was probably the only man in the whole world who could send Arthur wrong-footed and scrambling like a fool with just a few words.  “Last week he took me to town for a drink and some...uh…”  What to call it though?  A screw?  A poke?  A fuck?  Scratching an itch?  Dutch’s phrase: making a man of you?  He could say those things, but saying it now, knowing what he did, having done all that, he wasn’t sure which the right one was.

“Company?”  Arthur suggested.  He nodded, glad for a more polite word.

Arthur’s mouth thinned into a straight line for a moment.  John felt a squelch of fear up his spine--had he done something wrong?  Soft and gruff words from Arthur then, not quite looking at John.  “If you didn’t--like it, John, there’s no need for you to do it just to please Dutch’s notions, or anyone’s.  You understand?”

He didn’t.  Arthur went upstairs with women too, didn’t he?  Dutch said he’d treated Arthur to time with a woman himself when he was about John’s age.  “No, I think...I did.  I liked it.”  He’d been curious, and nervous as he’d been, the woman--Doreen--had been almost sweet to him.  Laughingly invited him to come back sometime.  Being with her felt good.  Felt wonderful, in fact.  Small wonder men sought that kind of feeling out on the regular. 

“Oh.”  Arthur blinked, nodded, just for a second looking awkward, rubbing his chin with his thumb.  “Well then, never mind.”   

Arthur’s strangeness there made no sense, but it felt like some elusive thing, a mere flash and blur seen from the corner of his eye, something he could never hope to grasp quickly enough to capture it.  He wasn’t brave enough to ask either, though it was on the tip of his tongue.  You mean you don’t like doing it?  Why?  There were questions he could ask, and sometimes Arthur talked about something trying to teach John, and sometimes he could poke a hole in Arthur’s implacability with the right words and glean things from it.  But this felt like something that wore boots far too big for him to step into them.

So he dodged aside from that, into something else.  “You off to see that girl again, now that the thaw’s in?”

It felt sad, Arthur still chasing after some girl who’d jilted him five years ago, hoping to make things right between them.  Susan and Bessie had both sighed, John overhearing them while playing dominoes one night, saying he’d never gotten over her, some soft silly miss who’d never have him, and yanked him along like a puppy on a leash.

Maybe that explained it, if he didn’t go upstairs in saloons.  Trying to prove something to this girl who thought she was too good for him.  John now couldn’t imagine going without that, especially to prove something to someone who didn’t seem worth it. But it seemed like Arthur had kept it up.  Five years of riding off now and again, sometimes for a couple of weeks, to go pursue a woman who’d be like that, who’d strung him along so long with silly hopes of someone he could never be.  Usually coming back looking forlorn as a week-old newspaper in the gutter.  If that kind of helpless stupidity was love, by God, Arthur could keep it.  Stupid.  It felt smarter and more honest to be with someone like Doreen who just enjoyed a man’s...company...and didn’t put up some silly shrieks about what was being proper.  If he ever loved a woman he hoped she’d be sensible and funny, rather than some kind of haughty lady.    

He’d heard Dutch say the name Eliza once, and Hosea quickly corrected him, with a glance at Arthur--Mary.  Seemed incredible that one girl could upend Arthur like that so much, and be so little to the rest of them that Dutch couldn’t even be bothered to recall her name right.  Then again, Dutch ran through women like a string of racehorses himself, so him not remembering a girl’s correct name didn’t seem too far off the mark.  

Hadn’t intended it as a jab, more to tease, but he could see something go closed and careful in Arthur’s face.  “I’ll be gone a bit, yeah.”

There were things he could say then.  About how some part of him worried that the worst-kept secret romance ever, Little Miss Mary, might just go crazy enough to run off with Arthur, and they’d never see him again.  About how things seemed that much emptier without him there, and how Bessie and Hosea especially seemed more downcast, and how they lit up to see him come back.  

But he’d never been good with words, never would be, not like Dutch or Hosea.  Besides, that kind of stuff wasn’t what he and Arthur said to each other.  He managed an awkward, “Be careful out there.”

Arthur laughed at that.  “Don’t you worry, runt.  I’ll be fine.”  He shook his head, giving a wry smile. “Might not be able to call you ‘runt’ much longer, though, the way you went up and grew.”

“I’ll whip your ass soon enough in a fight, just you wait.”

Arthur gave one of those fondly amused snorts of his.  “Never gonna happen.”

“Never’s a long time, old man.”  Familiar territory here, and one they both enjoyed, the fond bickering of brothers.

“Never mind, I take it back, you ain’t too big for me to catch you and drown you in the lake.”

“Hey!”

 “Just...don’t hurry to grow up too fast, John.  It’ll catch up with you soon enough.”  Left to meditate on that particular nugget of solemn-sounding wisdom, they passed the next few minutes quietly.  Eventually Arthur gathered the reins in one hand, and took out a crumpled packet of cigarettes, Jolly Jack’s, from his jacket pocket.  He struck a match on the rail of the wagon, and lit one, holding it out to John.  John reached out and took it, as Arthur lit his own, and then reached a hand out.  “Gimme the reins again, I ain’t letting you drive one handed while you got a smoke going.”

“All right.”

“Also, you want to be a man, remember a man pays his debts.  You owe me at least a packet.  Don’t think I don’t know who it was pinching them from me all winter.”

He could almost imagine Hosea saying, We’re thieves, but we don’t take from each other.  He scowled, looking away, but knowing he’d justly been called out, and in a way that was good too.  It was fair and calm, and Arthur wasn’t mad.  He’d respected John enough to tell him to make it right like a man would, rather than reporting it to Hosea like he was still a kid.  That warm feeling welled up within him again.  “Fine.”   A/N: For some context, especially for those that haven’t read Sunrise, this takes place shortly before Isaac dies in May of 1890.  I tend to believe John couldn’t know about Eliza and Isaac, given that context would have given him a much better understanding of Arthur’s angry reactions to John’s failures with Abigail and Jack.  So I HC that Dutch, Hosea, Bessie, and Susan all knew, but as John was still so young, they all just gave him the implication Arthur’s absences to go see Isaac were him still desperately and futilely trying to court Mary.  They all respected Arthur’s privacy, and didn’t want John brashly prodding him on a touchy and uncertain subject. 

#arthur morgan #john marston #rdr2 #fic from the parking lot

[verai-marcel]

Can I request a fic where low honor Arthur is exceptionally touchy with the reader all day and eventually takes her, hard, in a public or semi-public place? I loveeee your neighbor AU

Mail For You (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: You work at a small town post office, and when you’re not stuck in the office sorting mail, you’re a mail carrier, a job you take great pride in. Lately, a man has been coming by every day to pick up mail for Tacitus Kilgore. You’ve tried to ignore him, but his efforts at small talk are charming. Then he offers to accompany you on one of your routes, claiming to want to protect you from thieves. Will you accept?

Author’s Notes: OF COURSE YOU’LL ACCEPT, YOU HORNY READER. (To be fair, I would too. *waggles eyebrows*) This was a lovely request from tumblr user @brightredheart77!

Tags: seduction, touchy Arthur, low honor Arthur, smut, semi-public sex

AO3 Link is here!

——————–

“Good morning!” you said cheerfully as the door opened. But your bright smile faltered slightly when you saw the tall, well-armed man walk inside. For the past couple of weeks, he had been coming by to pick up mail for a Tacitus Kilgore; you highly doubted that the mail was for him, as it came from a variety of places and clearly from all different kinds of people. But you didn’t question it; they were all clearly addressed to the same person and the same place, and asking more questions would probably bring you more trouble than it was worth. You went towards the shelves to look for his mail, pulled out a small pile, and turned back to hand it to the man. But then you heard your name being called from the back office.

“Yeah?” you hollered back.

Your boss came out from around the back, taking the pile of letters from you and handing you a large shoulder pack.

“Could you take the buggy to deliver a couple packages and get these delivered today? Our usual boy couldn’t make it.”

“Sure,” you said, taking the heavy pack and slinging it over your shoulders.

“Yer just gonna let the lady go out on her own like that?”

Both you and your boss looked at the man, this ‘Tacitus’, in surprise.

“Why, yes,” your boss answered matter-of-factly. “She’s done it before, she’s perfectly capable, and it’s only a few hours of travel. She’ll be back before sundown.” He handed the man his mail. “Those are for you, sir.”

‘Tacitus’ took his mail and nodded, but then he followed you out the door.

“Hey, why don’t I follow you out there, make sure you don’t get robbed. Or worse.”

You turned to look at him. You took in his outfit, covered with the dust of the open road: a worn gambler’s hat, black ranch pants, a black collared shirt with suspenders, and dirty boots. He had a couple day’s worth of beard and glancing at all of the guns on his person, he looked rather unsavory. He looked like the kind of man who would rob you.

“I can handle myself,” you said, though you really wanted to ask him why should you trust him.

He stepped closer to you, invading your personal space. You looked up at him, intending to tell him to step off, but then you were caught by his eyes; they were the color of a gemstone you had seen a few months ago that had caught your attention when you were browsing the street market in St. Denis. The seller had called it an apatite gemstone, and because of its softness, most jewelers didn’t value it. You bought it and had him make a pendant for you, partially because it was cheap, partially because you loved the color.

“I’m not sayin’ you ain’t capable, but goin’ alone ain’t safe for anyone, man or woman.” 

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You blinked and glared back at him. If he was trying to intimidate you with his size, it wasn’t working, because you were, as your boss liked to tease, an amazon of a woman.

“Surely you’re not doing this out of the kindness of your heart,” you retorted.

“Maybe I’ve got a bit of kindness just for you,” he replied smoothly. 

Stumbling for a reply, you were caught off guard by his charming answer. You clearly weren’t going to get rid of him easily. And he had a point. It was easier to focus on either driving or shooting if one didn’t have to do both at the same time. 

“Fine,” you relented. “But I’m shotgun. You drive.”

***

You had thought that having him drive would mean his hands would be occupied. But he was a seasoned driver, managing the horse with just one hand. Which meant his other hand was constantly on you in some fashion.

“Just makin’ sure I can pull you to safety if I need to,” he would say.

But you couldn’t deny the heat that suffused your body wherever he touched. At first he had not-so-subtly put his arm on the back of the seat, his fingers grazing your side ever so lightly. You didn’t pull away; you couldn’t even move, really. If you moved away from him, you’d be leaning into his touch. If you moved away from his hand, you’d be closer to his body. 

With each stop you made to drop off the mail, he’d quietly take a little more of the seat, forcing you to either sit closer to him, or perch at the edge of the seat. There was nowhere to go.

He must have known you were trapped; after all, he put you there. So his fingers traced circles on your shoulder blade, slid down the gentle curve of your body until he could grip your hips and slowly pull you towards him. Like being pulled down into quicksand, you were being drawn closer to him as his legs shifted closer to yours, as he slid his hand over your shoulder and leaned you against his.

At the next stop, you walked over to the other side of the buggy. He raised an eyebrow at you, but held his hand out to help you up. Ignoring it, you climbed into the driver’s seat and took the reins from him. 

“You hold a weapon for a bit,” you said tersely.

So of course, he pulled out a revolver, so he could keep one hand on you.

“Get your rifle out,” you ordered.

He smiled. “Of course, whatever you say.” He swapped weapons, but his leg was still right up against yours as you continued your route.

***

“That’s the last one,” you said as you walked back to the buggy after delivering the last two letters. You climbed into shotgun and your temporary partner started driving the buggy towards the office.

“I thought you wanted me to shoot.”

“I’m probably a better shot than you,” you replied simply. Of all the post office workers, you were the best shot, proven after a contest when a former mail worker had questioned your abilities.

“Oh?”

You looked at the man. He was looking at you, intrigued. And there was something in his eyes that made your body burn. You had to look away from him, gripping your rifle and pretending to scan the horizon instead.

But then you saw something.

“We got company,” you mumbled as you got your rifle up. ‘Tacitus’ looked around you and saw the three men of horseback, guns out, clearly making a beeline for your buggy filled with mail and packages to bring back to the post office.

“Shit,” he muttered as he drove the carriage faster and pulled out a revolver.

“Just drive,” you ordered, and you lined up your sights.

You let out a breath as you pulled the trigger.

A man fell from his horse.

Then the bullets started whizzing past you as you lined up another shot, breathed out, and fired.

Another man fell. Just one more.

He was getting closer.

You winced as a bullet grazed your arm, but kept your aim steady and true.

Breathe out. Pull the trigger.

Last man down.

You sat back down, taking a few deep breaths as the adrenaline left your body.

“That was some mighty fine shootin’.”

You glanced over at him; his eyes were shining with true admiration. You very rarely saw that in a man, especially from one his age.

“Thank you,” you said, feeling shy all of a sudden.

His free hand touched your arm. “You got bandages?”

You reached in the back of the carriage and pulled out a small box. It had some gauze and a bottle of iodine.

“First aid kit, made it after the first run in with bandits,” you said with a bit of pride.

‘Tacitus’ eyed you while you took off your autumn jacket and tossed it in the back. You rolled up your sleeve, and despite the blood staining the fabric, the wound itself was minor. It was just a light graze; you were grateful that your jacket and shirt took most of the damage, although that meant you’d have to sew it up later.

He handed the reins to you as he took care of your arm. Expertly bandaged, you admired his handiwork. 

“Not bad,” you mused.

“Let me check ya for other injuries,” he rumbled, suddenly leaning in close. He dipped his head down and lay a soft kiss on your neck.

“H-how is that checking?” you stammered out, unprepared for his very forward advances.

“You want me to stop?” You felt his breath as he spoke, felt his lips move against your ear.

Oh lord. It felt too good; all your could do was lean your head back and give him access to your skin. He took that as consent, and kept moving his lips ever closer to yours.

“T-Tacitus…”

“Call me Arthur,” he uttered just as he captured your lips. It was a heated kiss, full of carnal promises, and you opened your mouth to him, wanting more.

“Not here,” he said as he took the reins from you, forgotten in your grasp. He urged the horse faster down the road.

Looking at his profile, he looked like a man on a desperate mission. The hunger in his eyes when he glanced back at you both scared you and sent a thrill through your body, straight to your lower regions.

You couldn’t wait to get back.

***

He parked the carriage it its proper spot and hopped out, holding his arm out to you. This time you took it, and he helped you down, reluctantly letting go of your hand as the two of you took all the packages and letters inside.

You called out to your boss, but he wasn’t around. After dropping off the parcels & letters in the delivery area, you peeked in the back office. Seeing a note on your desk, you walked inside and read it.

Close up when you get back. Thank you for your hard work.

You smiled. Your boss was always direct, but kind.

“So, no one else is here?”

You turned to look at Arthur, leaning against the door frame, a dark look in his eyes.

You swallowed. “N-no…”

“Good.” He took two swift steps towards you and pulled you into his arms. He kissed you, this time invading your mouth the second you opened for him, one hand digging into your hair, the other wrapped around you, grabbing your rear.

“Arthur!” you gasped once he let you breathe. “Someone could come in and see!”

“Then let’s make this quick,” he said, picking you up and sitting you on your desk. Pushing you down, he pulled your skirt up and tore your drawers open.

“Wait-”

“No time,” he growled, unbuttoning his fly, releasing his hard cock to your view. “Been wantin’ you for so long, can’t wait no more.”

“I-I need…” you trailed off as you eyed his shaft. What did you need, again?

Arthur grinned as he gripped your hips and slid you to the edge of your desk. He pushed your legs open and started moving his hips back and forth, teasing your opening with the head of his cock, sliding it around, rubbing your clit.

“You need me, darlin?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him. 

“You gonna beg me?”

“You’re an ass,” you finally said.

Arthur’s hand shot out and grabbed your neck. “I thought you’d be sweeter than that. After all we’ve been through.” He leaned forward, putting a little more pressure against your clit as he rubbed against you.

“Yes, yes, more, please,” you said faintly.

“Good girl,” he growled, and reached down to thumb your sensitive bud, giving you the pleasure you craved. He watched, his other hand gently caressing your neck as he stroked you, all the while nudging your opening with his thick shaft. An insistent pressure pushing at you, slowly spreading you open as he leaned forward, putting his weight to use as he entered you.

“A-Arthur…”

“That’s it, look at me darlin’.”

You lost yourself in his beautiful eyes as he took you, inch by heated inch.

He released your neck and grabbed the hair at the back of your head. 

Then he thrust all the way in.

You let out a strangled noise at the sudden force, the intense feeling of being so thoroughly filled by a man making your heart race.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes never left his as he stared at you with a deep hunger, and then he started to move his hips.

“Yer alright, just breathe… that’s it… Good, feel me.”

He talked you through the initial shock, coaxing you into a pleasurable trance as he took you with languid but powerful strokes. 

“Yer doin’ good, darlin’.” He nuzzled your neck as he began to unbutton your shirt. Revealing just enough to let him kiss the top of your breasts, he kept pumping into you, his pace gradually speeding up as he wanted more.

“You are just the finest,” he mumbled, burying his head in your bosom as he started to fuck you wildly, his restraint quickly disappearing as he buried himself inside of you over and over again. His rough treatment of you was, to your surprise, making you incredibly wet and hot; you wrapped your legs around him, mewling in pleasure. You dug your nails into his back, gripping his shirt and tugging as he continued to pound without a care, mindlessly taking you like an animal.

His heavy breaths and grunts grew louder, and so did your cries of bliss. He was taking you so good, so deep, that when he stood up straight, grabbed your hips, and lifted you up slightly to enter you from a different angle, going even deeper, you came hard around him, your fingernails digging into his forearms as you released, the bliss shooting throughout your body like fireworks.

Watching you writhe under him was too perfect, as Arthur quickly pulled out of you with a moan, rubbing himself against your nether lips as he came, his spend spilling onto your belly and your torn drawers.

“Darlin’, darlin’,” he mumbled as he leaned in close. “Yer so damn pretty when you let go.”

You smiled up at him, the afterglow permeating your entire being. 

The sunset coming through the window hit your pendant, resting on the table next to your shoulder. You put the gemstone closer to his face, next to his eyes.

“It does match.”

Arthur turned his head slightly to look at the gemstone you were holding. “Never seen a gem like that before. What is it?”

“Apatite.”

He chuckled. “An appropriate name.” He got up and held his hand out to you. “Lemme help you clean up, then I’ll be on my way.”

“You sated, now that you’ve had me?” you asked.

“Never, darlin’.” He leaned in and kissed you deeply. “That just whet my appetite for ya.”

Laughing, you shook your head at his silly joke. You got the distinct feeling he’d be coming by again tomorrow.

——————–

End Notes: Of COURSE I did some research. What did I find? That by 1899, there were 11 known female mail carriers. And they were badass, risking thieves and the elements, devoted to their duty to deliver mail to rural parts of the country. So of course, I made Reader an unknown mail carrier, badass with a heart of gold.

Also the title is a PUN. Mail for you? MALE FOR YOU?! HAH. *dodges rotten fruit*

#arthur morgan #arthur x reader #fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #lemon fanfic #nsft #writing #low honor arthur

[mrs-spindelle]

Never Work at Victoria’s Secret

Since I’m quitting Victoria’s Secret and have found a new job, let me give you girls some wonderful insight on the pile of dog shit company all us ladies have to shop at to hold our breasts in place.

Shopping there and working there are two totally different experiences, and let me tell you why you should never work in Hell- I mean VS.

1. As a customer, you are allowed to steal. Yes, that’s right! You ladies are allowed to take whatever you want if you can get the sensor off. We employees are NEVER allowed to ask for a receipt, accuse you of theft (even as we stand there and watch you rip the tags off), OR call security! That’s right, we would never accuse our beautiful honest angels of something as horrible as shoplifting. Just don’t take more than $1,000 in merchandise to avoid it being a reportable crime, don’t get caught by mall security and you ladies will have yourselves all the panties and bras you want. Oh, we’re also not allowed to go after you. I was once required to remove a sensor from a bra for a lady because she claimed ‘she bought it and we forgot to remove the sensor’ even though we ALL watched her rip it off a hanger. But by company policy, I cannot accuse her of theft or ask for her receipt. So she got a free bra. If you ever think you’re going to be caught, just accuse us employees of racism and threaten to call HR. We’ll back off. The company is terrified of a lawsuit.

2. You as an employee are punished far more harshly than a customer EVER will be. If they so much as think you’re stealing, your hours are cut, and you are the one who is watched on camera - not the group of girls who just walked out of the front door of PINK with $600 worth of leggings.

3. I don’t have proof, but I’m pretty sure many of their cameras do not work. They say the cameras are everywhere and can spin and zoom to see text so small like on an ID, but its a hoax. If they can’t even catch a thief who looks right into the camera, they won’t catch anything period. They couldn’t even catch the man who stole like, $20,000 worth of panties lmao.

4. You are required to be a customer’s punching bag. Dealing with drunken men at a bar is a blessing compared to working for the middle-low class entitled women of society. Victoria’s Secret has created an atmosphere that makes every woman feel special and sexy, but for a lot of women, it gives them a sense of power they don’t actually have, and they abuse that power by abusing the very employees helping them to find a piece of clothing to hold their tits in. I have been mocked for my thin body, tall height, small breasts and pale skin color. I have been called racist, told to get breast implants, or that I was mentally incapable of helping women with bigger breasts find what they need simply because I had B cups. I never once had an issue with a man while I worked there, but I lost count with how many fellow women abused me there. You would be surprised to see how little support you get, because we cannot verbally defend ourselves or others.  The customer is always right, even when they are outright degrading you like an animal.

5. No one gives a shit about that panty drawer filled with 150+ thongs you just neatly folded. No one. Walk away from it for 30 seconds and come back, I fucking dare you.

6. You don’t get to go home until all panties on top are folded in order. Gotta fold until 12 at night? Guess what, you’re gonna be folding until 12 at night.

7. Closing late but need to be back in the morning for a 5am floorset? Yeah, you’ll be scheduled to close until 10pm or 11pm and HAVE to come back at 5am. No ifs ands or buts.

8. Every company sets aside money to compensate for theft, but Victoria’s Secret has so much theft due to their shit policy that they raise prices. And you honest hard working women have to pay more so thieves can continue doing what they like. Example. Panties are typically 1 cent to make, and are $10.50 a piece. The lingerie panties are $16.50, and their newest lingerie panty is now $40+ A PIECE. They are made the same way as a $16.50 panty, but tripled in price. And you’re a sucker for buying it. I own one since I got one for free, and guess what? Its shit. Don’t put it in the dryer. Ever.

9. Ever wanted to clean up vaginal discharge and period blood? This is the job for you!

10. If you don’t ask for a break, you will not receive a break.

11. You cannot remind a customer that you’re closing in 5 minutes. They’re allowed to destroy the entire store, unfold everything, go in the fitting rooms for as long as they like, and fuck around until THEY choose to leave. The gates are NOT to be closed, not even half way, until that customer leaves - which makes opportunity for late night shoplifters to come in and loot while you’re busy trying to refold what that customer had just destroyed, so you can go home on time. But now, not only do you have to clean, you also will be staying late to file a long ass report about the theft - which Victoria’s Secret will do absolutely nothing about. 

12. Pregnant? Guess what, nobody gives a shit. Reach down at the bottom drawer to shop for a woman who is too lazy to kneel down herself and grab her XL granny panty. Your baby is an inconvenience to certain entitled women.

13. Got this job to avoid baby sitting? Well you’re going to baby sit, and watch as women drag their screaming children into the store meant for adults that’s filled with inappropriate lingerie and open-assed panties with lewd pictures of half-naked women all over the walls. Also get ready to pick up after other people’s children who drop their drinks, food, toys, and destroy store property by playing on shelves, ripping off manniquin arms, chewing on panties (and stealing them, I caught one child stuffing panties into their Else purses), and throwing the biggest demonic hissy fits when they don’t get their way. Think the parents will stoop to OUR level and clean up after their own kids? LOL they’ll go “Sorry” and walk away. You’ll be lucky if they even say sorry. You know they aren’t.

14. You will understand why 50% of marriages end in divorce simply watching how wives boss around their husbands to show off in the store. This goes back to the power the store gives women. When women enter these gates, their true selves show, because the sense of false power makes them act like the bitches that they truly are. I will say that not every woman is like this, but an alarming amount are.

15. The girls who buy boy shorts are the most condescending and judgmental of women - deeming those who wear thongs are sluts, whores and loose and are beneath them. Yet they buy boy shorts with ‘Yummy’ written on the ass. Hmmmmm...

16. If you find a co-worker who is real and takes time out of their day to help train you, stick with them. 9 times out of 10, you won’t get the benefit of training. You’ll be thrown into the chaos like I was and be expected to perform well. Its up to your fellow co-workers to help you. If some help you. Hopefully they’ll help you. I had only 1 help me, and that was during Black Friday.

17. Starting drama is forbidden. Unless you’re a favorite. Then you’re free to shit talk all you want.

18. Women are destructive little shits. They will rip apart anything nice and toss shit around. 

19. You are not allowed to carry any weapons on you for protection. You will be terminated for doing so.

20. Despite not being allowed to carry a firearm, policy has made it clear that in the event of a shooting, you must hide. In the event that the shooter FINDS you, you are encouraged to FIGHT BACK. . . With - what exactly? If you’re not allowed to carry protection on you, yet a man with a gun is shooting at you and killing people, then how in the fucking fuck are you supposed to fight back? You are practically set up to die in the worst case scenario. But consider the alarming rate of shootings today. Public shootings are becoming more and more common, its a horrendous tragedy. And we are faced with either being fired, or being fired at.

Your choice.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Now I will say...not everything about it was bad. There were times where I had fun, I miss those times. I had a good handful of nice customers who made my job easier, and a few I could relate to. I suppose the issue is with the company. If the company had a different way of running things, then maybe the women would have a different mindset when walking into the store and treat their fellow women better. Who knows...

#vs #victorias #secret #victoriassecret #hell on earth #rant #my experience #retail #i hate retail

[latenightskid]

One Third

Kathryn walked down the hallway with a small backpack over her back. Ethan passed her in the hallway, having to look back at her at the sight of the backpack.

“Where are you going,” he asked. She stopped and turned to him.

“Uh,” she started, taking a quick look down the hallway. “Day trip.”

“Day trip? Alone?”

“Yeah. I need a break from all of Mark’s ‘heroism’.” The two of them let out chuckles, though neither were entirely convincing.

“I mean, I could come too.” Ethan’s tone had changed, and Kathryn could see it. She let out a sigh, followed by a sympathetic smile.

“Ok, you caught me. I’m heading out for the day to collect some new parts for Amy. She’s been saying she needs some, so I’m going to surprise her.”

“So why can’t I come?”

“Because I need someone to distract her from the fact that I’m gone. You know she’ll keep asking.” A large grin formed on Ethan’s face, and he saluted.

“I’m on it.” They shared a small chuckle and said goodbye. Kathryn made sure not to run into anyone else as she exited the ship into a travel pod. She dropped her backpack beside her in the chair, and typed the coordinates into the screen.

“Alright Mortriare,” she whispered, pressing a button. “Bring me the glory.”

Mortriare was a short trip, but she needed the time to execute her plan. She was only a few minutes away when a beeping noise came from her dash. Curious, she answered the call. Jack’s face appeared on the screen. It quickly changed into confusion.

“Why are you alone,” he asked.

“I’m going on a day trip,” she replied, leaning back in her seat. Jack tilted his head to either side, looking for the rest of the crew.

“By yourself?”

“I’m getting parts for Amy. It’s a surprise.” She gave him a small grin, but he seemed unconvinced.

“Clever, but you and I both know that if Amy wanted parts she wouldn’t send someone to go alone unless she physically couldn’t do it alone. Where are you headed?” She let out a defeated sigh and crossed her arms.

“I’m taking a day trip to Mortriare. I do it once a year.” Jack’s eyes went wide, and the corners of his mouth formed a devious grin.

“Mortriare you say. You drink?”

“I don’t drink. I play.” His smile formed wider. Kathryn didn’t like the look in his eyes.

“So… say, a friend of yours happened to tag along with you, how much would a beloved, trusted friend- no, family member- get in terms of credits.” Kathryn shrugged.

“I guess a third.” Jack’s grin widened the largest she had seen so far. She could see his tail excitedly flick into the air.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t play for the money. I play to see the hope and determination drain from their eyes. I like to see their strategies crumble and hear the curses under their breath. The feeling of reigning victorious.” Jack’s eyes were wide, but not with excitement.

“You’re ruthless.”

“It’s a ruthless game.” Jack and Kathryn shared small grins. “Mind if I hop on board your ship?”

“Come on in.” Jack thanked her quickly and hung up the call.

Black clouds covered every inch of the planet. It looked like a puffy, black ball floating in space. Jack pressed his hand against the back of Kathryn’s chair as he looked at the planet. His tail was flicking wildly behind him.

“So many credits,” he mumbled. “So much loot.”

“Please don’t get the GLE on us,” she replied. “I know they don’t patrol the planet, but they have ways of finding things out.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m here for the money you’re going to win me at Veila.” Kathryn glanced up at Jack.

“Win us you mean?” He glanced down at Kathryn.

“Oh, right. Yeah… well… whatever. You know what I meant.” Kathryn shook her head with a small grin. Their ship pierced the clouds, and they rode through it for a couple of seconds before the neon lights of Mortriare came into view. Every building was covered in neon lights of plasma. Black ore roads ran through the blocks with neon lining the sides to bikes and other small vehicles. Kathryn steered the ship toward a large lot of ships of all sizes, similarly marked in neon lining. She parked it in one of the lots beside two larger ships. They exited the ship and started walking. Jack’s eyes quickly scanned the area. Sam floated beside Jack’s head, his own tail flicking in the air. They entered a large group of people, the smell of alcohol and damp bodies encasing them. The buildings all seemed to follow the same theme. Bars, nightclubs, and casinos. Every block had about five of each, all with different themes of their own. Every visitor of Mortriare had their favorite places, and each building had their own handful of regulars.

“Where are we headed,” started Jack, walking beside Kathryn. “Mortriare Star 5? Night of Stars? The Vegas?” He excitedly listed off the most popular places he knew from his couple of ventures here on… totally legal matters.

“Actually,” she started, “we’re heading to Veila Quantum.” Jack’s eyes grew.

“You have access to Veila Quantum?”

“Yeah, a couple of years ago they saw me win round after round at, well, Mortriare Star 5, one of the workers asked me if I wanted a pass. Of course I said yes.” Kathryn gave him an excited smirk, and he returned it.

“Imagine all the money we can get out of those rich snobs.” She rolled her eyes as they continued. After a few minutes, the building came into view. A red and gold sign sat above the double doors in a language neither of them recognized. Most of the signs were in different languages, but Kathryn had gotten most of them translated into common over the years. They walked up to the door guarded by two buff pig-like men, prashu’s. They stopped Kathryn before she walked in.

“Torro, Corva,” she started. “It’s me, Kathryn.”

“The velm,” Torro replied, his voice gruff and low. Corva pointed a finger at Jack, who looked back and forth at them.

“This is Jack. He’s my friend, and he has my pass.”

“Velm are thieves.”

“I’ve brought people in here before with me, ones whose species have a history for stealing. Have I ever brought in a thief?” They gave each other a glance. The doors finally opened.

“Keep an eye on him,” stated Torro as they walked in.

“Don’t worry about him.” They walked in, and Jack let out a sigh.

“Thanks Kathryn.” She shook her head.

“Those guys are great, but they’re a little too stuck in stereotypes.” The room was full of large circular tables surrounded by pristine looking aliens. They all looked like they had a lot more money than Kathryn and Jack combined. They could’ve lived there. Jack scoffed.

“Look at them,” he grumbled. A couple of people looked over at them. They immediately grew smiles on their faces and waved. Kathryn waved back with a similar smile. “You seem to know everyone here.”

“I know a lot of them,” she replied, “but trust me. All they do is talk about their big ships and lots of money. Not to mention the parties that they have with all their money.” They shared a small chuckle. Kathryn walked up to one of the medium sized tables surrounded by a group of aliens.

“Kat,” called a nikocage, quickly wrapping an arm around her. “Good to see you!”

“Please, Rofi,” she chuckled, “call me Kathryn.”

“Ok Kat. So, we’re starting a new round. Is it champions tonight?”

“As always.” The rest of the group chuckled and filled with chatter. The nikocage held his hand up, sending out a small electric charge that loudly interrupted the room. Everyone from all other tables turned to look.

“Attention everyone,” he began. “Tonight, ninkain Kathryn Knutsen is in the building! Tonight, we play champion takes all!” A cheer sent out through the building that Jack didn’t fully understand. The card deck sat in the middle of the table, and they were all dealt seven cards. Each of them got five blue belts, all worth 100 credits. The game began, and Jack used Sam to watch over Kathryn’s shoulder. In the screen, he could see Kathryn’s face. He had never seen such determination in her. Her eyes rapidly scanned her hand as well as the cards placed in front of them. The game was slow moving, so Jack decided to move. All he needed to do was not to get the GLE on his tail, and he wasn’t about to. He grazed past groups of fancy looking aliens, stealing any amount of physical credits he could get his hands on. Sam nudged his face, making him jump as he dropped a bag of credits.

“Sam,” he whispered, quickly picking it up from the floor and shoving it into his bag. “Careful. What is it?” Sam nodded in the direction of the bar. “I can’t be drunk when we leave. I need to get on the ship and-” Something caught Jack’s eye. He looked up over the bar to see a safe. He recognized the safe from casinos over the year. Each casino had one they kept all the credits when people cashed in their belts. He smirked up at Sam. “Nice call buddy.” From the other side of the room, he saw Rofi lift Kathryn’s hand into the air as everyone groaned.

“Kat wins the first round of Veila with 1,000 credits worth of belts!” 1,000? That wasn’t a lot, but she still won. He saw the vicious smile on her face and chuckled. It was going to be a good night for both of them.

Kathryn had won her third game and 15,000 credits before she walked up to the bar. Everyone else was talking or playing practice games for the next round. Jack quickly walked up to her, almost knocking her over.

“Woah, Ja-”

“I need your help,” he interrupted. She looked over at him and squinted.

“Jack…”

“I know I know, but if you help me we could walk away with more money than either of us could’ve even imagined.” She sighed and leaned back on the counter.

“I don’t care about the money. I want to play.” The gear’s in Jack’s head turned, and he mumbled under his breath.

“Fine. We’ll do it legally. Any ideas?” Kathryn looked at her next playing table, then back at Jack with a smart smirk. Jack glanced at the table and then back at Kathryn.

“No way. Not with those rich assholes.” Kathryn patted Jack on the shoulder.

“Oh come on Jack. You know how to play, you want the money. Besides. You can show all the racists what velm can really do.” He looked around at some of the other table. A couple people looked over at them, then whispered and laughed to each other. Jack let out a sigh.

“Fine.”

“And you have to be on your own team.” Jack recoiled quickly.

“What?!”

“Break’s over,” come Rofi’s voice. Kathryn reached past Jack and grabbed the water bottle the bartender gave her. “Everyone to the table!” She walked toward the table and waved to Jack.

“Good luck!” Jack let out an exasperated sigh as she left. He and Sam glanced at each other, and Sam nodded toward the table.

“I hate doing things the legal way,” he groaned, walking toward the table. The cards were dealt as soon as he arrived. With his arrival came disgusted looks from those around him. Kathryn stood at the side of the table, not directly across from him. A small, sympathetic smile sat on her face, followed by a confident nod when he looked up at her. He picked up his hand and looked at it. Not a great hand. He let out a small sigh, and Sam floated by his head. There was a robotic squeaking as someone grabbed Sam straight out of the air. Jack almost dropped his hand as he quickly spun around to see Corva holding Sam in his large hands.

“Hey,” yelled Jack, his fangs showing.

“No bots in the game,” snapped Corva.

“Jack,” called Kathryn. Jack realized they had everyone’s attention now. He looked at Kathryn who seemed worried. She glanced up at Corva, then back at Jack. “It’s alright Corva. Please be careful with it. Right Jack?” Jack looked at everyone else, then back at Corva. Corva gave Jack a smart smirk as Sam squirmed in his grasp, his iris rapidly moving. He walked away, leaving Jack to their game of Veila. As Jack turned back to the table, everyone’s whispering conversations quickly stopped. He gave Kathryn a look of pure anger for the situation, and Kathryn gave him a sympathetic smile.

“Can we start now,” asked Rofi, holding back an annoyed snap. Kathryn rolled her eyes and nodded. The game began.

Jack had never seen such a ruthless player. Kathryn was silent, playing cards like it was her job. She was right. Jack could see the hope drain from their eyes, replaced with rapid panic as they tried to make a strategy. She was close to winning, reversing the order, playing wild cards. The pile was full of red and blue belts, along with dots of yellow and green. Jack looked at his hand, and like a lightbulb going off above his head, he had a strategy. He just needed his turn. Kathryn was at Veila, and Jack was only one card away. Kathryn couldn’t play, could she? There was no way she had another card of the color. Finally, Kathryn laid down her last card. A collection of annoyed and exasperated sighs filled the table as Rofi lifted up her hand.

“Winner, of round four,” he called with a chuckle. “We’re halfway through the champions. Who’s still in?” Due to Jack’s close to Veila, he still had a shot. Kathryn walked over to him before they organized more players.

“You did awesome Jack,” she told him.

“I had a strategy,” he replied, crossing his arms. “And I would’ve won if you’d only gotten more cards.” The two of them laughed together.

“We have four more rounds. I hope to see you at finals.” Jack nodded and went to turn back to the table, but Kathryn grabbed his shoulder. She pulled him in closer. “Besides, everyone is getting mad at how good you were.” When she pulled away, a large grin was spread across Jack’s face.

“See you at finals,” he told her. They clasped hands into a bro-handshake before dispersing back to the table. The group was smaller than before as some people were bailing, but the pile was only getting bigger. Kathryn had to have had about 50,000 credits in the pile alone, and it was only getting bigger from there. Four more matches, four more chances.

One, two, three. The belts got more expensive, the credits got higher. Every time, Kathryn won and Jack got second. Every time, people only got increasingly angrier at the idea that Jack was so close to winning. The last match held with only Rofi, Kathryn, and Jack. Everyone was ushered away so no biased cheating could happen, but a couple moderators watched to make sure the players themselves didn’t cheat. Everyone was in their zones as they played. Kathryn and Jack kept giving each other excited glances, which raised suspicion from the moderators, but upon further investigation, they concluded it wasn’t cheating. Rofi kept taking glances at the moderators with his own grin, and they would return a grin, just hoping he’d look away.

Finally, everyone had Veila. What they did with it, none of them knew what the others would play. Finally, Jack’s eyes widened. He slammed his hand down on the deck.

“Yes,” he cheered, throwing his hands in the air. Rofi suddenly let out a frustrated grunt, throwing his card as it floated down onto the pile.

“He cheated,” he yelled, pointing a finger at Jack. Jack looked at everyone around the table. They were all whispering angrily to their companions.

“No I didn’t, I played fair and square! Everyone saw it! It was monitored!” Rofi quickly stormed round the table and up to Jack.

“He has a robot eye!” Everyone gasped, and Jack’s fangs quickly came into view.

“It doesn’t work without Sam, the floating eye, which you took from me!”

“Oh, like we’d ever believe a velm!” Kathryn quickly walked in front of Rofi, her tail whipping behind her in anger.

“He’s not lying,” she snapped. “I’ve worked on Sam personally to fix him sometimes. I know how he works. Jack didn’t cheat.”

“She’s just covering for him,” someone called. Everyone yelled in agreement, beginning to chant ‘liar’ across the room. Jack was ready to bite the smug grin off of Rofi’s face. Suddenly, Sam flew in, running into Jack’s face.

“Sam, what are you-“ Sam quickly displayed a playback of the game, and everyone went quiet. It zoomed in one of the faces of the moderators as they walked around the table, stopping in between Jack and Kathryn. They mouthed the word “no red”. A quiet gasp fell through the crowd as it cut to Rofi’s small grin. He glanced back down at his cards. His next play changed the color from of the deck from blue to red. Both Kathryn and Jack’s faces sank slightly, but went back to determined. The holographic screen fell again, and Sam floated beside Jack’s head.

“Rofi, you cheated,” asked Kathryn, disappointed but not surprised. Rofi looked around at all the angry faces of the participants.

“I wasn’t going to let a velm win,” he snapped. “What would that look like if a velm won at Veila Quantum?” Kathryn stepped up to him.

“It would look like you don’t discriminate, which would attract more visitors, maybe even some with a lot more money, here.” Jack walked up beside her, his newly earned bag of 1,200,000 credits over his shoulder. The bag was the size of two adult dulcosi’s. “Guess what, Rofi? You just lost your two best players.” Kathryn turned to Jack who gave her a confident nod. They started out, but were quickly stopped by Corva and Torro. Kathryn looked up at them, her face quickly changing as she gave them a glare. A low growl escaped her throat. Their eyes widened, and they moved to the side. She walked out, and Jack proudly walked out beside her.

Kathryn docked Jack’s ship and opened the door.

“That was fun,” she started as he stepped out, “and… I’m really sorry about all of them. I’m never going back there again.” Jack smiled at her.

“Ah, it’s alright,” he replied. “Besides, you scared two of the biggest dudes in that place. That was awesome.” She chuckled.

“I’ve done bouncer work for them before by myself. They know what I can do.” They shared another laugh.

“Thank you Kathryn. Do you mind if I come with you next year too?” Kathryn smiled.

“We can make it our annual thing, a secret just between us.” Jack chuckled and nodded. He grabbed his bag and turned. Just before the door closed, Kathryn noticed his bag seemed slightly lighter than before. It closed finally, and she looked in the back to check the ship’s status. In the chair Jack had been in was a brown bag. A small note was attached, and she opened it.

⅓ - Jack

Kathryn walked down the hallway with the bag over her shoulder. Ethan turned a corner and quickly ran to her, excitedly bouncing in place.

“Did you get it,” he asked. “What’s in it? Can I see? Is she going to love it?” Kathryn chuckled.

“I didn’t,” she replied. “This guy ripped me off for faulty parts, so someone was able to get me a refund.” Ethan stopped bouncing.

“Aww, that sucks! Can we go buy some parts?”

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m hungry and tired from the day trip.” Ethan nodded rapidly.

“Got it.” Kathryn turned and walked down the hallway, a small grin on her face.

#canon side story #spaceiplier #space au #lazy writer #kathryn knutsen #jacksepticeye

[etes-secrecy-post]

Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

My GTA V Online: Festivity Holidays 2022 - Snowmen Collectibles (Part 5 - Final) [Dec 24th, 2022]

HO! HO! HO! Hello, it’s me! And welcome back to another GTA V Online moment, the Festivity Holidays 2022 edition! 😄🎄❄️

Here’s final part (Part 5) series of my “Snowmen Collectibles” experience. ☃️✋

If you haven’t seen my Part 4, then please [CLICK ME!]. (and also these: Part 1 → [CLICK ME!], Part 2 → [CLICK ME!], Part 3 → [CLICK ME!])

• Finally, we're down to 5 snowmen left before I unlock something. Once again, I'm using different kinds of weapons from my inventory, as well as other vehicles (mainly weaponized both land & air). 🚗✈️🔫💥

• So again, what did I get after this? An awesome-looking snowman outfit! And I looked good wearing it! ☃️ 👕👖🧤🧣🎩😁 (Plus, an extra GTA$ cash, which is nice for us! 💵🙂🤌)

1st to 3rd Snapshot Image(s): ↑

BTW: I took some picture on that last snowman (location: Chiliad Mountain State Wilderness, Blaine County, S.A.) before I ended up with my Hydra plane's dual cannons (which is far better than a boring mounted machine guns on any attack planes/choppers). So, here are my last three snapmatic photos. 🖼️📲😁☃️

Overall:

• Is collecting snowmen worth it? Well, yeah. Better than the wasted time collecting 200 (FREAKING) Halloween Jack-O-Lanterns this year. 🙂👍 But, mind you, collecting Jack-O-Lanterns was fun & experience, but still... I think collecting 25 snowmen in GTA V Online was fun, better, and not a wasted playtime. Here's hoping that this limited trope will be coming in the next year's holiday. 😊❄️

Well, that’s all for now & 🎄🌟 Happy holidays! 🎁🎅

And If you want to see my previous car prize, and more, then please → [CLICK ME!]. 😉

(Where do all the links go you may ask? I made a post about all GTA V Online-related links. This will prevent error save drafts, in my future post. Plus, I'm always updating my link post.)

Tagged: @bryan360, @carmenramcat, @leapant

[gothicjin]

I posted 5,600 times in 2021

3 posts created (0%)

5597 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1865.7 posts.

I added 7,529 tags in 2021

#seokjin - 3256 posts

#namjoon - 801 posts

#jungkook - 724 posts

#bts - 691 posts

#yoongi - 567 posts

#hoseok - 473 posts

#jimin - 435 posts

#taehyung - 332 posts

#art - 134 posts

#ethereal - 116 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#like they have songs entirely written by someone else (eg dynamite) but if they’re involved in the song themselves joonie is being credited

My Top Posts in 2021

#3

ok so i’ve had blue hair for more than four years now and my style is pretty much exactly the same as his (though like no tattoos but i’ve wanted tattoos specifically on my arms for about six years now) and now he decides to go for blue hair. in the exact shade that i try to get mine to be. the audacity smh

0 notes • Posted 2021-02-24 03:47:36 GMT

#2

so i caught up with last week’s and this weeks run bts episodes oooh do i have thoughts. spoilers below if you haven’t seen them!

so yeah currently jin and yoongi look the most suspicious based on the ‘the thief is always holding something’ hint, but we know that more than the two of them started out with an object. my guess for the third one would be tae, except, as joon pointed out, taetae just acts like that sometimes. i want to say joon is in the clear given how much he wants everyone to be clear about their clues, and jimin and hobi look to be in the clear as well, but then we see jimin’s pov a lot. kookie just wants his scarves. yes, run bts editor, i did really want to go and find him a navy scarf, he deserves it!

like the problem here is also that obviously we don’t get shown everything they do. a lot of that is just them walking around, but there’s going to probably be stuff the thieves are doing that only gets revealed at the end. jin and yoongi once more would fit that, and maybe joon to a degree? i feel like they got shown doing less stuff, but then i could be wrong. but part of me also wonders if none of them are thieves or if all of them are. i really wondered the latter option at the start of the second episode, all the clues seemed so vague they’d be about all of them. but idk any more… would be really funny though :P

also jimin running to tell joon about suspecting jin… i presume it’s just that joon looks to be clue central, but part of me wonders if they’re trying to prevent a blue village vol two, so they’re being extra careful about accusing jin. (like i’m sure jin is fine, he brings it up to deflect suspicion from himself, but i totally would believe that the other members try to be more considerate nevertheless because they don’t want to hurt jin accidentally again) also just them in general trying to keep accusations to a minimum and saying that no game is worth more than their friendship… i’m looking forward to next week when everyone will accuse everyone else even if the prize is just a packet of ramen

1 notes • Posted 2021-08-10 21:00:06 GMT

#1

so i have a twitter account specifically for bts stuff. and by bts stuff i mean following their twitter, a bunch of official accounts like bighit and merch accounts, some translators, a bunch of hourly accounts and specifically that one account that compares jin to fridges. shoutout to that one account because it’s the only twitter account that should be allowed to exist but i digress

anyway with the comeback and everything it’s really become clear to me that i (still) strongly prefer tumblr. like i kinda streamed butter a bit but that was entirely because i was listening to it on repeat anyway because it slaps, but the fact that basically every single tweet is always followed by a ‘here’s a link to streaming goals’ or whatever is ...a lot. and some accounts were posting a lot about how many streams are still needed and so on and i ended up unfollowing them. like the posts i’ve seen on tumblr have very much been ‘if you want to stream, sure, knock yourself out, but under no circumstance should you feel obligated to do so or feel bad for not doing that. also streaming culture in general has problems here’s more thoughts on that’. meanwhile on twitter it’s all ‘go stream more now’ ‘here’s our goals go stream go buy’. kinda makes me wonder how much those ppl on twitter are enjoying this (not that you can’t, but no wonder a few accounts of the very small handful have closed/gone on break because it all feels like a ride headed directly to burnout)

i also just feel sad that a certain (and probably the most vocal, at least from what i’ve experienced) part of army has made making new records their main goal and the main way to appreciate bts. because idk if this is sustainable, and i’m scared that if the upwards trajectory of numbers doesn’t continue there’s a possible breaking point for a lot of fans. no idea what could happen then but i doubt it’d be that nice. i’m also sad that there’s probably many new fans who only know that side of army. i’ll also of course feel sad for bts themselves if this happens (and i do really hope it’s an if) but tbh i think they’ll be able to handle it (especially given how grammys went and how clearly they were prepared for that to go that way), they (should) have the support and i believe they have pretty realistic ideas of how stuff will go. yeah bts themselves will be okay. it’s the numbers-obsessed part of army that i’m worried about. i’m obviously happy that bts is getting the records and etc but yeah i’m worried about the fan culture that comes with that

oh and a completely selfish and very much specifically applicable to the way i listen to music reason why i am not a fan of the whole streaming thing - i /will/ just listen to one song on repeat for hours for a few days straight because sometimes a song just hits right(tm). wtf do you mean that’s bot behaviour now i am not a bot. imo the streaming playlists look much more inorganic to me, how does one ever listen to a playlist and not have it on repeat??? my brain makes the happy juice another way no thanks no streaming playlists for me only chaos

3 notes • Posted 2021-05-27 22:17:20 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post #yeah i am here to reblog #maybe i’ll dip my toes into content creation at some point again #but rn i’m way too busy for that

[the-kryomancer]

Just Another Day: Magicwatch AU

“Get back here!”

Slap!

“Thieves! Get back here, thieves!”

Mud smacked the back of his skull.

“Burn the big one!”

“Hang the thief!”

“You’re gonna lose that other hand, boy!”

Jamison Fawkes—or as the villagers have called him in numerous towns; Junkrat—ran down the dirt road, a massive misshapen Golem followed close behind. Numerous villagers all armed with pitchforks and torches and various firearms chased the awkward pair out of the town. Jamison stopped at the gates and faced the mob. With his prosthetic hand (which was made of various metal pieces and parts of abandoned clocks) he pulled a wand from the back of his pants. The wand had seen better days; it was covered in soot and ash and was burned and singed from constant use.

“I’m the only one who can burn the big guy!” Jamison shouted. “Now you’re gonna burn!” He pointed the wand at the villagers but instead of fire erupting from the tip, all he got was a puff of smoke. Emitting a small noise of confusion, Jamison looked at the wand and tapped his chin. “That wasn’ ‘supposed to happen,” he shrugged. “Guess I gotta do it the old fashioned way.” He grinned and held out his good hand. The houses and various buildings erupted in flames. The mob screamed and rushed to put out the fires: a straggler or two throwing one final rock or a handful of mud before joining the others.

Jamison dropped his hand and curled up as he laughed manically at the scene before him. “Everything they worked so hard for is going up in flames!” He continued to laugh, too hysteric to even think of admiring his handy work. He was suddenly lifted into the air and slung over the large Golem’s shoulder like a rag doll. The creature took them into the forest, away from the village. Jamison grumbled in disappointment. “Alright, alright. I’m coming. Sheesh!”

Once they were deep in the forest, far away from the village, Jamison was lowered onto the ground. He started to giggle at the thought of the town on fire. “Ah, Roadie. Did ya see the flames? It was glorious!” There was no reply. “To bad this bloody thing doesn’t work.” Jamison inspected the want in his hand. He flicked his wrist, hoping to get a reaction from the wand. Again, he was met with a puff of smoke. “Piece of junk.” He smacked the wooden object against his palm. This time—however—fire exploded from the wand’s tip, sending Jamison flying backwards into a tree. The trees in the radius of the flames began to burn. Jamison sat up with a groan then laughed—his masterpiece catching his eye.

Roadhog stood there, staring at Jamison with his mismatched stone eyes. Jamison looked at him for a moment; his bottom lip sticking out almost in a pout. Rolling his eyes, Jamison was quick to jump to his foot feet. The peg leg tapped the ground with hard clicks. It was made of metal and wood; various joints jingling—due to looseness—as he moved. He needed to visit Chester soon to have the bolts tightened or he’d have Roadhog carrying him everywhere.

“Okay, okay,” he drawled on. “I’ll put the fire out. I won’t let either of us catch fire— again.” Jamison smiled. “But look: my eyebrows at least grew back!” He pointed at his forehead, tapping one of the bushy, blond eyebrows with his wand. Again, no response from Roadhog.

Jamison held his hand out at the flaming trees and the fire dissipated into thin air, although the trees were burned to black crisps. He threw the wand onto the ground and grabbed the bag hanging in Roadhog’s right hand.

“Let’s look at our treasure!” He plopped onto the ground next to his wand and opened up the sack. He pulled the items out one at a time. He made a mental list, one he’d surely forget, so for good measure he repeated it out loud for Roadhog.

“Lookie here, mate! We made off with the gold!” He held out various objects for Roadhog to see. “Two wands! Two! We could surely make a quick coin or two off them. Ooh! Look'it this! A few jewels! These look like they’re worth something.” Jamison’s eyes lit up more at what he discovered in the sack. “Ya even snuck out a few loaves of bread! I knew ya cared!” He pulled out three or four loaves of bread; each ranging from slightly undercooked to severely overcooked. All were covered in small clumps of clay from Roadhog picking them up. Jamison wasn’t picky with food, especially with the life he lived. Food was food so he didn’t complain.

He pulled out a few more things from the sack, including: a few bottles of potions with unknown uses; amulets and bracelets; a few rings; two pocket watches; a child’s doll; and something Jamison didn’t recognize and didn’t know the use of. It was a large, circular crystal—it was a rainbow of colors; various shades of green, blue and red made it up.

He flipped it over in his hands a few times. “What do you think it is, mate?”

No response.

“You’re right! It’s not our problem, just whatever drongo buys it from us.”

Jamison took all of their stolen goods and put it into the sack—save for half a loaf of burned bread. He sat there, munching on it viciously. He was thankful to have something to eat that wasn’t apples, dry oats or duck. He wasn’t living on the healthiest diet but it kept him alive. He loved bread, though, ever since he was a kid. Maybe it was because his parents were bakers. Maybe.

“I’m a bad person.” He mumbled. There it was again. Guilt. It was something he became used to, but it still hurt. Eighteen years he’s been blaming himself, and rightfully so. “I started the fire.” He looked down at his hands. Suddenly, he felt like that terrified seven year old boy.

Pushing the memories out of his head, he grinned. Within a second he was back to himself.

Jamison tossed the sack to Roadhog who caught it in his hand. Jamison jumped to his feet and finished eating the bread. He smiled at Roadhog who just stared as him.

“Well, Roadie. Let’s get back home so we can sell our loot!” He jogged over to the large Golem, grinning widely. He climbed on the Golem’s back, sitting on his shoulders. Jamison pointed forward. “Let’s get going! Mush!” He patted Roadhog’s head and the large creature started walking—slowly but surely. “We might even make it before nightfall. I need to visit Chest, anyway.” He huffed. “Can you remind me that later?” He peered down at Roadhog. “‘Course you can’t. Wouldn’t hurt to ask, yeah?”

Silence was his reply.

Jamison pat Roadhog’s shoulder. “Good talk, mate! I’m lucky to have you!”

Tag list: @ukcatsgirl10

#Overwatch #overwatch Au #magicwatch #jamison fawkes #Roadhog #mako rutledge #Au #magic #magic au #this was fun to write

[spideychelle-romanogers]

I Doubt Myself

Making of Michelle Jones - Prologue, Chapter 1

Start from the beginning || Series Masterlist 

After catching Michelle stealing jewels, the new mystery she brings into Peter's life defines his next adventure. There are new dangers coming to NYC and Michelle is playing a bigger part in Spider-Man's mission than Peter ever imagined.

T/W: none  Beta: Splendid_Splendont  Tags: spideychelle, pan!Peter, demi!Michelle, slow burn

Peter never knew just how complicated high school was going to be. Everything you saw on TV and in movies was relevant, yes, but it didn't quite cover all of the conflicting feelings on the subject. Yes, it was scary. It was nerve-wracking really. It was full of beautiful girls - like Liz - who distracted you at every turn. Then it's full of fat mouthed bullies that don't know what's coming to them in their sad, sad futures. That was all to say without mentioning the drama and conflict going on behind the scenes, pressure from parents - or in Peter's case, his aunt.

It's not that being in high school was just terrifying - but when you'd been through all he'd been through, it was boring. That was the scariest thing about it. Perhaps he never let his feelings bubble to the surface, but inside he couldn't help thinking about just how much else he wanted out of his life, out of this bubble full of cliques and locker room scuffles. He had fought the Avengers - he still couldn't believe it himself. He had been evaluated by Tony Stark's people. He had a costume designed for him. He had training. He faced off with Captain America.

His dreams were coming true, he was becoming a real superhero and he couldn't tell anyone. Stark tried to relate to him but always missed the mark. Peter was alone in his experiences. He had no one to tell about just how isolating it was to get everything you wanted and then be expected to go back to a life where all you looked forward to was running away. He scribbled furiously into his notebook during physics, trying his best to drown out the four walls around him. He tried to ignore the teacher berating the football players in the back and the girls painting their nails in front of him. He drew himself again, reimagining Spider-Man in an image that maybe he would be able to stomach.

He didn't think that going back to his old life would feel quite so green. High school life was nothing like the real world. Out there, he was a hero. How was he supposed to go back? He couldn't understand why he had to go through with returning, why Stark couldn't find a way around it for him. All Tony would talk about was the value of enjoying your youth while it lasted but Peter didn't think he had anything to enjoy.

"Parker, stop doodling," he heard his teacher quip over his head. He stopped immediately, slowly snaking his arm behind him and ignoring the chuckles from his classmates. Peter wasn't one to think he was above anybody, no, but he was over it. Over it was just the best way for him to say it. He was tired of being alone and feeling felt like no one except his best friend Ned could understand him. Ned was a sore subject too. Peter was grappling with whether to tell him his secret. Really, the only person stopping him was Tony Stark, and Peter knew he wasn't going to fight him on that point. He heard a snort from next to him and saw Michelle just as she turned away from his sketchbook, returning to her reading.

"Got a problem with superheroes?" he asked as bored as she looked. She shrugged, continuing to read her book.

"Spider-Man is cool," she breathed out, uninterested in pursuing the conversation further. Though her words had no investment in them, they were enough to make him smile briefly. He wished he'd had a moment to ask something but he knew it wasn't worth it with Michelle. No one could really call her out from her reading.

Peter had this problem with staring. He realized this when he saw her look him in the eyes just moments later. He had been thinking about the look of her, how exhausted she seemed as she smiled into her book, when she caught him. She raised an eyebrow, as if ready to take offense to whatever insult he looked like he had been gearing to send her way. He knew she was quite used to them. Occasionally throughout the year, he'd hear guys give passive notes about her looks. The one time Peter tried to jump in to her defense, she'd yelled at him, so he knew better than to try and save her. Now though he was tempted to apologize because he knew she was expecting the worst of comments.

"Sorry, I was trying to read over your shoulder," he lied. He used to be a terrible liar, but habits build steady hands. She brightened at that, like hearing about someone taking an interest in her books was a radical idea she could get behind.

The school bell interrupted them. Peter had to say he regretted that a bit. He almost never had a chance to connect with Michelle and it would have been nice to connect to one other person at this school. He didn't know why but the girl always made him curious. She seemed like a very decent kind of person. He didn't know much about her despite their years at school but something in the way she acted was particularly confusing to him in a way he wanted to solve. Perhaps his interest stemmed in that she was just about the only other person at this school who looked as tired and bored as he felt all the time.

"See ya," she mumbled as she picked up her books and walked the other way. He was swiftly reminded they couldn't be friends, because she never really liked him. She tolerated him and Ned more than the other kids at this school, but never by much.

Lunch was its usual routine with Ned. Ned was talking all about his new Captain America comics and Peter had to admit even he found them super interesting. Meeting the real thing is really no form of satisfaction when you're a fanboy. He tried to withhold his own personal gut wrench at knowing the events passed between Captain and Tony. He'd heard the rumors while he was at the Avengers Institute. Looking at Ned as he grinned at the illustrations, Peter wondered about what kind of joy he'd get out of telling his best friend the truth about his summer.

Michelle sat alone at the table next to them again. It was where she always sat. Occasionally the table would be full when the cafeteria was overflowing with people, and on those days, Peter and Ned would sit with her too. However, the cafeteria was bare, and that gave her the time she needed to seclude herself into a cave of hardcover books. Peter didn't know what had possessed him to interrupt her, but he found himself suddenly standing up and walking to her.

"Hey, so," he started lamely, already forgetting what he'd had to say. She was staring at him expectantly, sipping her school-supplied chocolate milk. Though he'd seen her sit down minutes ago, he noticed all the food was already gone from her tray. She must have eaten fast. "What do you like about Spider-Man?" he asked lamely.

"I think the general concept of any man being able to swing from a string attached to buildings is pretty impressive," She answered briefly, clearly still wondering what he was doing there. To make matters worse, he couldn't stop himself.

"Yeah, I guess," he tried, looking again to her tray. "Do you want my food? I'm not going to finish it. My Aunt May made me a sandwich-" he was talking too much and it was so hard to stop. She looked at him, as though debating something.

"Sure, I'll take it," she said, a hint of a question in her acceptance. He picked up the food from the tray in front of Ned's own, and he collected it in his hands before bringing it over to her, carefully putting each individual item in the right tray slot.

"Enjoy." Peter asked himself very sternly in his mind just what he thought he was doing. The entire day, he felt like he'd been overthinking everything. Knowing that Michelle thought Spider-Man was cool provided a kind of self-indulgent distraction that he needed. He didn't want to keep thinking about secrets. He wanted to talk about Spider-Man. And yet, having had this realization he turned away from her and went back to Ned who was looking as confused as Peter felt.

Peter had to find a better grip on this secret. At this rate, he was doing some desperate things just to get distracted.

It took everything in Peter to resist approaching Tony Stark again. It was easy enough to get on the roof of his tower. That was one way the teen could always outsmart the billionaire. Tony often used him as a way to test his security mechanisms and Peter was still outperforming his inventions when it came to home security.

Peter knew he couldn't keep running to Tony with his problems though.

Deciding perhaps he could let off some steam, he broke one of Tony's rules for him. He quietly locked his bedroom door and slipped his limbs into his costume, tossing himself out of the window and escaping into the night. Uptown, his best bet was watching over the neighborhood and hoping something would happen. He knew if he headed downtown, he was a lot more likely to find something to do.

Crawling by a strip mall, he arrived just in time to watch men running. Where there was once a glass storefront display, the shattered glass was sign enough of what had happened and he took off in the direction of the men running away. Before long, there were 4 culprits tied to an alley wall by his net and police sirens in the distance as he flew his way back, knowing no one was around. He saw jewels strewn along the ground in random places from where the thieves had dropped them. He left most of the jewels stuck to the thieves' hands so the cops would have the evidence they needed. However, he had learned the hard way that despite reports of theft, the police were not always diligent about returning all of the stolen property, especially not once it was reported as 'lost'.

So there he was, probably a comedic sight, walking down a sidewalk and picking up every pearl and gem he could see. By the time he made it back to the jewelry shop, it was probably just 10 minutes later. He used his web to seal up the glass wall, and he used the front door to enter. The store was dark, empty of people. There were mannequins strewn across the floor, easy to assume that they were there after the thieves did their business. As the door chime jingled out its tune, his hairs stood up when he heard a slight stumble. Had he missed someone?

He crept through the store slowly, hearing a scramble accompanied by the jingle of necklaces colliding. He stuck himself up on the ceiling hoping that he could use the element of surprise. Seconds later, he was above her, a small framed girl hard to make out in the light. She pocketed the necklaces and quickly zipped her bag. One hand to her purse strap, she rushed her way to the door. Peter was about to stop her when he saw her turn just as she reached the door, looking to see if anyone was following her.

She opened the door, and Peter reached his arm out. Simultaneously, the cheaply made ceiling tile he was on caved to his weight. Not even by an inch, the web missed her arm and hit her purse instead. She pulled once to resist her arrest and the purse fell open. Peter, meanwhile, was trying to catch himself, his mask pulled off by the sharp corner of one of the shelves. Picking up what she could she raced again out the door before Peter could even hide his face and reach her. By the time he got to the door, she was already a block away. He couldn't even glance at his mask before hearing the police sirens go off. Running away was more important than catching her he decided. Looking down at what she left behind, he saw a wallet and brightened. He had a chance!

Before he even opened it, he made sure to plant himself on the mall's roof. He watched the police make their way around his web before he finally got through the wallet. It was a simple purple zip-open. He could have sworn he'd seen it before. Making his way through the very little cash and many different business cards, he finally found something incriminating - a school ID.

The style of it was perfectly familiar. The purple edges, the white stripes, the graduating year labelled on it in big yellow letters. It was almost as familiar as the girl in the picture.

Michelle.

Peter felt sick to his stomach.

Had he seen anyone else (except maybe Ned), he wouldn't have been quite so surprised. There were plenty of kids who got themselves into trouble all the time at that school. Michelle had never been one of them. She was the girl in grade school who'd threaten to rat you out no matter how small the rule you were breaking. She was a stickler and a studious one at that. Peter couldn't remember the last time she was without a book in her hand. He remembered seeing her read during their middle school graduation, and he remembered how much he made fun of her for it.

Michelle wasn't a thief.

The next day at school, he wasn't quite sure how to deal with Michelle. He still had her wallet. He didn't know what to do about it, but he hoped that he wouldn't see her at school so that he wouldn't have to think about it. The whole day could've been a good one. He was briefly distracted during gym, when Liz talked to him about her new sneakers. Peter couldn't remember a word he had said, but he made Liz laugh at some point so he called it a win. He'd managed to avoid Michelle all day until he was back in physics class. She sat next to him when she arrived at class, looking exhausted like always. He wanted to believe she looked even more tired than usual but he couldn't actually confirm that. Maybe he was just wanting to see guilt where there wasn't any.

As she sat, he resolved he wouldn't say anything about it.

"Are you drawing flying men today or will you actually be paying attention?" she asked, not a hint of malice in her sarcasm. He couldn't believe she was making conversation, but he supposed he'd deserved it.

"I'd rather give the hero thing a rest," he mumbled, gluing his eyes to the board as their teacher continued talking. He hadn't been listening ever since Michelle entered the room.

"I thought I'd just pick partners randomly, but it seemed a lot easier to just make you work with your neighbors," the teacher explained. "And don't forget this project is worth 50% of your midterm grade."

"What?" Peter asked quietly startled out of his thoughts.

"We're partners," Michelle answered in her usual bored tone. They were partnered up often on in-class assignments, but never anything significant. He looked at her nervously. She noticed his stare after a few minutes, whispering so she wouldn't interrupt their teacher. "Is there a problem?"

"You've got something in your teeth," he lied calmly. He never thought he was a very passive aggressive person, but he couldn't feel guilty about it long, considering Michelle's quip back:

"You stare too much."

Maybe he was being aggressive, but he spent most of the day stomping around the school, trying to figure things out. He had no one he could tell, but Ned had picked up on something being wrong. Peter typically didn't get so angry, not for this long. He'd been moody for ages now, but it seemed like something about this had really set him off. He just couldn't imagine that even someone like Michelle could be a letdown. There were really so few truly good people out there. He was used to living in a city full of crime and people who made bad choices. He knew whatever prompted Michelle to steal could have been significant, but he couldn't imagine how. All during lunch he found himself glaring in her direction and trying to figure out whether the crime was one of greed or one of impulse.

Before long, lunch was over and Peter was still debating whether or not he was overreacting. His feelings were getting the better of him lately. He spent an entire week ignoring Ned once when he wouldn't stop asking why Peter disappeared over the summer. Maybe it was time to check his attitude.

School let out and he looked to his phone for the first time all day. Two hours ago, he had received what was just a brief flash of text. It was Tony Stark, but he put the man's number under a false contact 'Anthony'.

Anthony: Don't forget to keep your head low.

Peter scowled. It was time to get Michelle her ID back, he decided just as he ran home to suit up.

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#spideychelle #spider-man: homecoming #peter parker/michelle jones #peter parker x michelle jones #peter parker/mj #in which peter is crushing on michelle #but doesn't know it #and michelle doesn't know he's spiderman #but she's crushing on spiderman #i'm love triangle trash okay #slow burn #literally so slow #really this is about michelle's origin story #THIS IS A REALLY LONG STORY #chapters #chapter #ftp #peter parker #michelle jones

[bastardnev]

Steal Your Heart Ch. 1

so for whatever reason when i shared the first chapter it didn’t show up in nev’s tag, so im gonna repost it because i can (i’ll be putting chapter two in another post bc if i put them together then this post would be Too Long)

also i am SO sorry to anyone on mobile lmao

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: World Wrestling Entertainment, Professional Wrestling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wade Barrett/Pac | Adrian Neville, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added Characters: Wade Barrett, Pac | Adrian Neville, Other Character Tags to Be Added Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Thieves Summary: Random happenings in the lives of Wade, a detective, and Neville, a thief who took a liking to him and decided to tag along with him during his investigations.

Ch. 1: Buddies

Why could Wade never be assigned to a simple case?

Even though he had been busting his ass for years, Wade's rank as a detective was still fairly low. Maneuvering has way through Manhattan to get to the office was no easy feat due to the traffic and groups of pedestrians everywhere he turned, and it was a miracle that he even showed up on time some days. His efforts were constantly being overlooked by his boss, however, who was far too preoccupied with the higher ranked sleuths to pay attention to him. Wade was forced to watch his superiors be assigned the easier cases, the boss claiming that they'd been working 'far too hard' lately and 'deserved' something less complicated. The cases that they should have been given were handed over to Wade and everyone else who wasn't 'deserving' of a break, lack of qualifications be damned.

This time, a man had been murdered in his room at a fairly prestigious hotel in Miami. At first glance, it looked like the suspect was easy to pinpoint -- an ex-business partner was apparently staying in a room on the same floor. There were rumors that he had been jealous of the victim's success, going on record saying that he felt like he should have gotten that big promotion, but no one ever thought he would resort to murder. He was 'too nice of a guy' for something like that. Wade, however, wasn't buying such a cheap and overused excuse, and he was ready to bring the suspect into custody and call it a day.

There was more to this case, though, as Wade soon learned once he further looked over the file. Everything was far more complicated than it really needed to be. In addition to the rumors of the suspect's jealousy, there was also some speculation that a few members of the hotel staff were in on the killing. The victim had died due to poison, and it appeared likely that one of the workers had slipped something into his food once he ordered room service. Despite all of that, there was still no concrete evidence, and Wade was required to find irrefutable proof that they were involved.

To do so, he needed to go undercover, which he hadn't had to do in quite some time. Wade reserved a room on the floor directly below where the murder had taken place, pretending to be a delivery person who was staying in town for the next few days. It wasn't the best occupation that he could have chosen, but it was better than nothing. Better than being a murderer, that's for damn sure. Wade thought to himself.

The first day on the job was relatively uneventful. Wade's flight had been delayed due to poor weather conditions and he didn't arrive to the hotel until late in the day. All that he had been able to do was scribble down a few points in his notebook, outlining what he would do on the second day of the investigation. As of that moment, Wade was planning on keeping an eye on anyone involved in delivering room service. If he chose to believe the rumors that a staff member was involved in the poisoning, then the most appropriate choice of action would be to order food and learn just who he was possibly up against.

It was while he was plotting that Wade remembered that he hadn't eaten anything since he had gotten off the plane. It was too late at night for him to be getting room service, so he settled on a snack from a vending machine down the hall. He kept telling himself that he needed to start packing extra, more healthier snacks in his suitcase so that he wouldn't have to rely on junk food all the time, but in the end he couldn't be bothered. Besides, he loved Doritos too much to give them up.

The vending machine was in a small room that served as a sitting area of sorts. Wade remembered passing by it on his way to his room and spotting a few couches around a coffee table. He had made a note to himself to spend some time there once his work the next day was done, compiling whatever new information he had gathered. Hopefully no one would be there and he would be able to work without fear of getting caught.

When he arrived at the machine, Wade inserted the money and punched in the number for his chips, crossing his arms as he waited for it to fall down. Once it did, he crouched to get it, pausing when he saw the slot. How the hell was he supposed to get it open? He couldn’t push it in like he usually could.

“Who the hell designed this?” He wondered aloud, sighing frustratedly. The genius who built this damn thing should be fired. He was going to find away to get this bag even if it killed him. Trying a few more times to push the slot in, he gave it a light smack. “Fuck you.”

And someone laughed.

Wade jumped, hitting his head against the machine in a somewhat embarrassing fashion. This just caused the person to laugh again. Once he had composed himself, Wade stood up, turning to face whoever had been watching him. He found a man not too much younger than him sitting on one of the couches, covering his grin with his hand. Wade could see that there was a DS sitting in his lap.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh, but that was really funny,” the man said, giggling. “The machine tricked me up when I first got here, too.”

All Wade could do was stare at him for a moment. Aside from being embarrassed as hell at the fact that someone had witnessed the whole scene, he was also confused. How had he not noticed that someone was sitting there watching the whole time? “Yeah, it’s… it’s a pain,” he responded, averting his gaze and looking back towards the machine. “Stupid.”

“Here.” The man put the DS down on the couch and stood up. “I’ll get it for you. Watch and learn.” Wade watched as he crouched in front of the slot and pushed it down from the top, pulling out the chips and handing them over with a smile. “See? Easy!”

“You had to pull it down?” Wade’s eyes narrowed.

“Yeah! A bunch of machines are like that nowadays.”

“Who decided that?”

“Someone who’s clearly lost in life.” The man made his way back over to the couch, plopping down and putting his feet up on the coffee table. He crossed his arms behind his head and asked, "So, what's your name? I'm Neville."

"Neville?" Wade repeated. If he was being honest, it was a bit of a dorky name, but Wade kept that thought to himself. Now wasn't the time to be rude. "I'm Wade."

"What brings someone like you 'round these parts, Wade? You on vacation or something?"

"Uh, not exactly," Wade replied. Whatever he did, he absolutely could not give Neville any hints about his real profession. "I'm a delivery person."

"You're a delivery person? Seriously?" Neville looked confused. He appeared to eye Wade up for a moment, his eyebrows quirking up briefly. "That's... interesting."

"Yep. I've got some, uh, packages and things to deliver in this area. I'll be staying here for a little while."

"How much do you have to do if you gotta stay in a hotel for a few days? Seems like a lot."

"Yeah, well... It's part of the job. I don't get a say in it." Wade shrugged. Now that he'd said it out loud, the whole 'delivery person' thing was the worst lie he’d ever come up with, and that was saying something since Wade had had his fair share of bad lies in the past. Neville didn’t even look like he bought it. His eyes were slits and he was pouting, deep in thought. Wade could almost see the gears turning in his head.

Then Neville snorted, a smile returning to his face. "Sounds wild. I'm a professional thief."

"Oh, that's nice--" Wade stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening. "Hold on, you're a what?"

Neville shrugged as if it weren’t a big deal. “I’m a thief. I steal shit. Oh, son of a…” He was looking down at the red light on his DS. He switched the system off. “I need to charge this damn thing.”

Neville had already moved on to the next subject, but Wade still couldn’t believe what he had just been told. This man who he’d met only a few minutes ago just admitted to being a thief as if it were nothing, like it was a regular 9 to 5 job. How was Wade supposed to react to that? Seeing as he technically worked with the police, should he bring this guy in? Or should he let him go? Neville might not even be worth the force’s time.

“What’s with the look?” Neville asked when Wade hadn’t said anything for a little while. “You’re making a weird face at me.”

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Wade assured. “You… are a very interesting person, you know that?”

"I do know that, actually." Neville grinned cheekily. "And I'm also a pretty honest person. I don't feel the need to lie about my profession like you do."

Wade froze up, and he swallowed. How did Neville know that he'd been lying?! He knew that his excuse was lacking, but he didn't expect to actually be called out on it. "W-What makes you say that I'm lying, huh?"

"Because you are." Neville had begun to fiddle with the DS stylus, casually slipping it in and out of its slot. "I can tell."

"How?"

"Your badge is sticking out of your pocket. It has been the whole time."

"Are you serious?" Wade looked down. Sure enough, Neville was telling the truth -- his badge had been on display the entire time they were talking. Wade stuffed it back in, nervously shoving his hands in his pockets. "I, uh... Listen, you didn't see that."

"But I did!" Neville looked a little cocky.

"Neville, I'm being serious. You cannot tell anyone about who I really am, do you understand me?"

"Wade, don't worry. If there's anything that I'm good at, it's keeping things secret," he said. "How the hell do you think I've been living here for as long as I have?"

"Wait, you live here?" Wade cocked his head to the side. "How long have you been here?"

Neville thought his answer over, looking up towards the ceiling before looking back to Wade and saying, "About a month or so."

"How have you gone this long without being noticed? Does the staff really pay that little attention?"

"You would not believe the amount of unfilled rooms in this place. I just hole up in them and come out at night when no one's around. The patrons all think that I'm a really accomplished businessman since I always tell them that I'm here for a conference. They buy it every time."

"What about when someone reserves a room? What do you do then?"

"Then I move on to the next one. It's not that complicated." Neville stood up. "So, now that I've told you all about what I do, do you think you can fill me in about what your job really is? Pleeease?" He clasped his hands together, wearing puppy dog eyes. "If you have a badge, then it must be super interesting!"

"I really shouldn't..." Wade sighed, tapping his foot. Telling Neville the truth would defeat the whole purpose of going undercover. It was true that Neville had told him some pretty incriminating things about himself -- he admitted to a detective that he was a thief! Someone who was that brutally honest couldn't possibly have any malicious intent, could he? Besides, those eyes... Wade was weak for that sort of thing.

"Come on! At least tell me a little bit?"

"Well, if it's only a little..." Wade took a deep breath. "Okay, so you know that murder that took place here not too long ago? The one on the floor above us?"

"I know of it, yes. People were freaking out about it."

"I was sent here to investigate it, but I had to go undercover. The suspect is still staying here, and I need to gather information on him and a few other people who might be involved. There, are you happy now? I told you everything you need to know."

Neville pursed his lips, closing his eyes and crossing his arms as he processed what he'd just been told. "So you need to get some dirt on people, huh? Who else besides the suspect?"

"Some hotel staff members."

"Ooh, scandalous!" Neville rubbed his hands together, suddenly looking excited. "Lemme see the case file! I wanna know some names."

"I can't show you that," Wade said firmly. "That's confidential information."

"How do you expect me to help you if you won't even let me see the file?"

"You-- When did I say I wanted your help?" Wade's mouth fell open. "I never said anything like that!"

"Wade, I'm serious about helping you. This is a pretty big case. I've been staying here for awhile now and know the schedules of pretty much all the employees. If you need a second set of eyes to keep an eye on a suspicious staff member, then I'm your guy. So, what do you say? Are we buddies?"

"I'm not sure if 'buddies' is the right word to describe it..." Wade had to admit that Neville was onto something. There was no way that he would be able to keep an eye on so many people on his own. Even having just on extra person to help him would make things easier. Then again, could he really trust a thief? This definitely wouldn't look very good...

...Then again, his boss never gave a shit about anything that he did, so what would it matter?

"Fine..." Wade finally gave in, gesturing for Neville to follow him out into the hall. "Come to my room. You can read the file in there."

"Yes!" Neville pumped his fist into the air, hurrying after Wade. "Believe me, you won't regret this!"

"I'm sure I won't." Wade knew he would.

A day had passed since Wade and Neville were first introduced. Wade was seated at the writing desk in his room, his prior plans to work in the seating area thwarted by a family of five who insisted on hanging out there at that ungodly hour. It's too damn late for these little kids to be running around... Doesn't anyone have a bedtime anymore?

Wade tapped his pen against the page, propping his head up with his left hand. The second day of investigation bore a little more fruit than the first one, though Wade still didn't have any substantial leads to go on. After ordering room service for breakfast and dinner, all that he had learned was that the hotel had really good buffalo wings. Those things should be illegal... But I can't charge someone with murder for food.

He hadn't heard from Neville since last night. If he really only came out when it was dark, then that must mean that he spent the whole day lazing about in his room doing nothing. Why was Wade so worried about giving him the case info if he didn't seem to care too much...

Wade suddenly looked like he'd made a breakthrough, and he hurriedly wrote something down, smiling. He then crossed it out a few seconds later, frustratedly tossing down his pen. Those little kids aren't undercover spies, Wade. Get over the seating room thing and focus.

A knock on the door snapped Wade out of his thought, and he slammed the notebook shut. It wouldn't look very good if a staff member showed up and saw him speculating about their involvement in a crime. Then again, what would any employee want with him this late at night? He didn't order anything.

Then Wade remembered that there was only one person who would want to speak with him at that time. This should be interesting.

Wade stood up from his chair and went to unbolt the door. Sure enough, Neville was waiting for him on the other side, leaning up against the door frame with one hand and the other one on his hip. "Howdy," Neville greeted him with a wink.

"Alright, kid, what'd you find?" Wade stepped out of the way and allowed him to enter, shutting and re-locking the door. "Assuming that you actually found something and aren't just here to screw with me."

"I found out some top secret info." Neville leaned in close to whisper in his ear. "You ready? I learned... that this hotel..."

"Yes?"

"...has really good quesadillas." Neville pulled away with a cheeky grin.

"Are you kidding me?" Wade rolled his eyes, bumping Neville with his shoulder as he walked back over to the desk and sat down. "You're not taking this seriously at all."

"Oh calm down, would you? It's only a little joke to lighten the mood."

"Look, if you don't have anything relevant to add, then please leave." Wade came across a little harsher than he intended to. Neville didn't really mean any harm... Still, this was important. Now wasn't the time to be screwing around.

Neville sighed, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out some printed documents. "Okaaay..." He said, sauntering to the desk and showing the papers to Wade. "If you don't want me here, then I guess I'll have to leave and bring these with me."

Wade read over the contents of the papers. They were a series of emails, each one of them containing instructions.

Instructions about the murder.

"Holy shit--" Wade reached for the papers, but Neville pulled them away.

"You don't seem to want me here, so I'll just be taking these with me. Haaah..." Neville let out a dramatic sigh and slowly walked towards the door. "Maybe I'll catch up with you later."

"Hold on, kid!" Wade stood up again, grabbing his shoulder. "Where did you find those?"

"A thief never reveals his secrets." Neville winked at him from over his shoulder, but the look on Wade's face forced him to continue. "I, um, snuck behind the front desk when no one was around and printed these out."

"It was... that easy?"

"Mmhmm! You need to stop overthinking things. Sometimes the solution is right in front of you! Just like how I am right now." Neville patted Wade's arm. "But, y'know, you don't seem to want me here so... I'll be taking this back to my room with me."

"Nev, please. Stick around. I need that info."

"'Nev'?" Neville repeated, a smirk spreading across his face. "Is that gonna be my new nickname?"

"I guess." Wade shrugged. He didn't even mean to call him that -- it just slipped out.

"So am I like your little sidekick now? Are we... buddies?"

Wade took in a deep breath. He didn't really have much of a say in the matter, did he? He slowly let the breath out through his nose before responding, "We're... buddies."

"Hell yeah!" Neville grinned broadly and plopped down on Wade's bed, lying on his stomach and saying, "I think this is the start of a beautiful relationship."

"It's certainly the start of something, alright..." How does Wade keep getting himself into these situations?

#neville #adrian neville #wade barrett #wwe fanfiction #jess.txt #barrett x neville