tf2 bloggers stop saying engineer is a heartless bastard challenge IMPOSSIBLE

This will go down like a lead balloon with the person who has been messaging you, but the sanctimonious attitude all over social media toward Lando this weekend is every bit as awful as anything he did or said.

99% of those people, including I would put money on the person who has been messaging you, could not have cared less about that trophy before it got broken and I can guarantee knew nothing about its origin or worth and yet now they are acting like he deliberately smashed it against a wall and then personally insulted the artisans. Half the F1 fandom including a lot of the people who have been sending him abuse on social media, were calling it ugly and saying it looked like an urn and should be used for grandma's ashes last week. That is far more disrespectful toward the artist and company than anything Lando did. Not once did he or Max or Red Bull aim any of their jokes toward the artist or the company or the trophy itself. Their jokes were purely aimed at each other.

He apologised to the company who said they weren't angry at him and know it was an accident. They are the only people who deserve an apology. He doesn't need to send them a five page handwritten note self-flagellating himself and publish it on social media for the satisfaction of a bunch of jackals who would then only tear him apart for being 'insincere' or 'only doing it for pr'. He found out how much time went into it and what it meant and he said sorry to the people who made it. He owes nothing else to anyone else, regardless of what those who sit in self-appointed moral judgement believe. There is a nothing wrong in pulling someone up in a polite way or having an opinion that someone is being bit of an ass. However sitting on their high horses and passing judgement and acting like someone's faults makes them the worst person in the world and demanding public apologies for mistakes (I'm not talking bigotry or hate here obviously, that's a different thing entirely, I'm talking the kind of faults that EVERYONE has, yes even those of you who act like self-appointed moral judges) does not make those sitting in judgement good people. Quite the opposite in fact. It's one of the worst parts of online culture, this pitchfork mentality where people go on self-righteous mob crusades. It says nothing good about the people who do that.

The stuff on the radio - EVERY driver gets rude on the radio. They are driving at huge speeds with adrenaline coursing through their bodies and have engineers wittering in their ears often at the worst possible time when they are trying to concentrate. I can promise you that not a single engineer in F1 cares or takes it personally when a driver gets snappy. F1TV only play select radio clips, usually ones that either are important in terms of the race or they think the commentators can turn into some kind of drama. Lando, Lewis and Max are three of the drivers who fall victim to this more than others and every time it happens, people go on a tirade about them being rude whiny awful people and yet in reality they are the 3 drivers who have the best driver/engineer relationships on the grid. They are genuine friends with their race engineers, they have worked with them for years andt their engineers love them. That should tell these judgemental people how much anyone cares about people snapping or getting stressed on the radio in F1 but no, it apparently makes them the devil incarnate.

The comment about the backmarkers - it may have sounded rude but in that instance he was absolutely right. Yuki held him up for almost two minutes, passed 17 blue flags and had to be told 3 times by his engineer to move out of Lando's way before he finally did so and even then he made Lando go out on the marbles to pass him. Checo made up 3 seconds on Lando in that time Yuki was quite frankly being an ass. Magnussen and Zhou were also very slow to let both Lando and Checo past (Checo also complained about it after the race) - not as bad as Yuki but they also held them both up for the best part of a lap allowing Lewis to hone in. People dragged Alex every which way last year when he did the same to Charles in Monaco and Charles said something similar on the radio to what Lando did, and everyone went with 'poor Sharl, evil Alex', but because it's Lando who said it, he's the villain not the guys who almost ruined his race. Not one of those drivers was fighting for anything at the time - they were alone on track, nobody anywhere near them, them getting out of the way would have cost them nothing but some dirty tyres for a lap. Lando (and Checo as well) had every right to be angry.

As for the absurd 'he was so rude about Lewis' carry-on - No, he wasn't. All he did was stated facts. There is something about certain parts of Lewis's fanbase who for some reason lose their minds when anyone points out he has been in front-running cars for the vast majority of his career and even when he has had cars that are not so great, they have not been backmarkers, not even the 2009 McLaren despite what they try and claim. I watched that season, I can promise you it was not close to the slowest car on the grid. Nobody is putting Lewis down by pointing this out. Not Lando, not other drivers in the past who have mentioned it, not the media, not other fans. They are simply stating facts. Max openly says he wouldn't be where he is without having the best or one of the best cars and his fan readily admit it as well, and he spent more time not in front-running cars than Lewis ever did. But when it comes to Lewis, his fans cannot accept the same is true. There have been times in the last 18 months where Lewis has carried on like he is driving a 2021 Haas. Yes he's used to having the best and it's all relative, but can you imagine how galling it is for those who are truly driving cars that can barely fight for p15 week in week out to hear him moaning about having a car that is still capable 90% of the time for fighting for high points scores and podiums? I can promise you they all think far worse things about Lewis and his woe is me comments than Lando's jokes about Lewis never having fought over 19th & 20th. There was more than one race this season where Oscar and Lando were doing just that, where they were dead slowest car on the grid. Also Lando adding "it's the one thing I've achieved that Lewis hasn't" is not a dig at Lewis, it's a self-deprecating joke about himself and how awful McLaren were in the first part of this season.

Lando has joked about this stuff in front of Lewis before. Lewis is not offended. Lewis doesn't care. Lewis likes Lando and his sense of humour and actually knows him and chooses to spend time with him. He's a grown man with his own agency capable of making his own decisions about who he likes and hangs out with. He does not need a bunch of chronically online people with massive parasocial relationship issues getting endlessly offended on his behalf. There is a reason he liked that awful twitter fan's tweet saying she would unfollow him if he posted the selfie he took with Max and Alonso and then posted the selfie a few minutes later. He's not proud to have those people as his fans. He's too polite to say it directly, but knowing what we do of Lewis, I have no doubt he finds them disgusting and has no interest in being associated with people like that. If they think he would admire them or thank them for behaving as they do and going after people he likes and respects like a bunch of rabid dogs in his name or in his behalf, then they know nothing about who he is.

Sorry this is so long, just really needed to rant about all of this. Some people's behaviour in the last couple if days has been abhorrent - far worse than anything Lando has ever done.

please let it all out :)

first of all A-freaking-men.

but this is exactly what im saying, they'll find any excuse to target him. they didn't give a shit about the trophy until it was broken.

to be honest, it's funny how friendly all the drivers are (i can't think of one driver relationship that is bad right now) and how the fans are just at each others throat constantly.

and the backmarkers thing is something that needs to be repeated. lando got held up for almost TWO MINUTES. as an athlete i empathize because i get frustrated all the freaking time and i say things that i wouldn't say if i wasn't chock full on adrenaline.

but thank you.

Thank you so much, @grapecaseschoices !! (Sorry for the weird format, I still have a Tumblr bug which won't let me edit my answers in drafts lol.) I love thinking about friendship dynamics for my OCs, maybe even more than romance haha. Put under the cut because long!

Apology's best friend will maybe be Karlach? Apology's only just met her in the playthrough so not totally sure. But they have some shared experiences as tieflings and a desire to do good by their people, even if they have, ah, different approaches. I like the idea of them having that introvert/extrovert dynamic, where Karlach drags Apology into adventures to dig her out of trouble, and Apology is also better for the experience. She'll be the first in line to hug Karlach once her infernal engine heart gets sorted out.

Another possibility is Gale! I think she has a high approval rating (I don't think that's what it's called but you know what I mean lol) with him. They both favor nonviolent solutions. (...But tbh after the scene where he teaches her how to channel the weave, I was very tempted to have them smooch about it lol.)

Avery's best friends are Farah and Morgan; it's so hard for me to choose because I think they both complement Avery well. She appreciates Farah's emotional intelligence and perceptiveness, although she sometimes wishes Farah wouldn't always comment on everything she's perceiving (e.g. Avery's feelings for Nate before she's decided to act on them, her uncomfortable family situation, Bobby, etc). On the flip side, Avery appreciates that she can just sit with Morgan and not talk...but sometimes she *wants* to talk. She hates and loves their teasing. She needs them both!

Another possibility is Halsin whom Apology literally has not met, but again, from what little I know about him (1) he is also a Druid (and a kind one), so I think they have some similar viewpoints...but (2) what if they smooched instead.

TWC

Jenny's best friend is Nate! They're very very similar, except that Jenny isn't quite so stylish or bookish. She and Nate tend to see eye to eye on what's right and they're both very patient and open with their feelings. I think it does bother her when Nate is extremely nitpicky about matters of etiquette or politeness (especially when directed towards Farah; Jenny gets very protective, even though Farah literally does not care lol).

Dove's best friend is Adam, in-game, but I think the real answer is that she's still just trying to be professional colleagues with everyone (except Morgan) lol. She is so uninterested in getting to know anyone on a deeper level...and I think that's what she appreciates about Adam, is that he is a professional and doesn't pry. (I don't know if you watched Parks and Rec, but it's very much Ron's best friend, "we still don't talk sometimes.") Dove can be bothered by Adam's bossiness, because she thinks she should be The Boss lol, but they usually get along well.

Rider's best friend is Felix! They have really similar personalities, both playful, energetic, often flirtatious (forbidden Relix route when). Rider loves that Felix keeps the mood light, even when the situation is dire. But sometimes he wishes Felix wouldn't say certain things, especially when he points out Ava's reactions and causes her to take three steps back lol.

Forest's best friend is Adam (unless it was Mason, I don't really remember, but I think Adam is a better fit). A lot like Dove, he mostly appreciates that Adam won't pry and treats him professionally. But a lot like Avery, sometimes he needs to talk about things and doesn't really know how to cross that professional barrier into a friendship where they share stuff. ...Which isn't something that bothers him about Adam, exactly, as much as it is something about himself. So I'll say he's not a fan of Adam's ego either lol.

Lexie's best friend was Julia, at least. They also made out (or make out, depending on the playthrough). As Sidestep, she adores Julia's reckless, heroic nature; it kind of matches her own. And she wishes Julia weren't so curious (as much as she adores that too).

Piper's best friend is...Farah I guess??? It was kind of a mood whiplash to play the LT and have Farah be like "You're part of the family ❤️" but also "You and Ava are tearing this family apart 😭" lol. So ah... I guess I have to think about it lol. Piper is more similar to Morgan, but she really appreciates Farah's warmth and openness...as much as she wishes Farah would stop commenting on how she's destroying the family by having feelings????

FHR

This is probably a little boring because everybody's best friend is Ortega lol, even if romanced, even if nemesised.

Post-Heartbreak, there are ~2 routes for her depending on how much she fights her friendless scar. If she decides not to isolate herself from the Rangers, Julia is still her best friend (and lover). She loves her loyalty and paradoxically hates that she couldn't move on. Maybe also Steel in this route, but I have to replay to remember lol.

In the route where she isolates herself from the Rangers the most, I...don't think she would say she has a friend. Maybe Mortum, who knows everything by the end of Retribution (literally the best ending imo), who understands remaking himself and accepts her for who she is. She appreciates his intellect...and could do without the flirting (with her puppet), but she's not exactly opposed to that. Or maybe John, her puppet, is her best friend. She loves that he's not her, she hates that he is her. :)

Rose's best friend is Ric. Rose's everything is Ric. She loves everything about him, she hates everything about him. To be more specific lol, she loves how readily he took her little Sidestep self under his wing, despite being a big hero; she hates that he never came for her, that he never thought of her while she was captured (and even when she finds out it isn't true, she still hates him for it).

Serenity's best friend is Ric. She appreciates that he is a good, a capital H Hero, even if that means he could never accept what she is. And she wishes he would shut up sometimes lol (even though, comparatively, he is probably the quietest person she knows, as she can't read his thoughts).

Hal's best friend is Julia. They love her style lol and hate how she interacts with technology (but they think it's hilarious).

I wanna translate this into fantasy allegory, lol

On a thread, a man accused Lenin of ableism because he said every man should work for his food, but when I asked him if he genuinely thought Lenin believed hospital patients and other invalid people should be denied food, he couldn't answer because he couldn't articulate his outrage into a feasible demand Lenin would make against physically and mentally disabled people.

So, he tried again to say this MUST be ableism because it felt cruel to demand disabled people to work at all. I repeatedly asked him to work with me to make a tier-list of "disabled" because there is a large gap of space between a person with mild intellectual disability (MID) being a cashier at the local grocery story and a person with several schizophrenia who needs inpatient care. And did he have any reason to think Lenin was against expanded inpatient care with independent living? Does he have anything besides the momentary outrage of this one quote and concept that sounds entirely like it is presuming an able-bodied person? (Which means it does nothing to inform us of Lenin's actual views on disability.)

So, after a small tangent of complaining about American healthcare, which did nothing to inform us of actual communist Russia healthcare policy, he returned on topic to declare he'd work twice as hard if it allowed a disabled person to not work at all. I told him that sounded very noble and all, but - again - what does HE think he is referring to when he says "disabled people" because unless he thinks any Leftist political philosopher believed in starving people who were under medical care, why does he think anyone WITH a disability but with a functioning mind and body should be "spared" work? What does he think people should do with the 16 hours they are awake? Sorry, Timmy, you can't be an engineer; you're in a wheelchair. Rayshawn had big dreams of owning his own streetwear fashion store, but too bad that he's deaf. Who does he think he's helping? Also, has he ever actually worked with mentally disabled people, like as coworkers or worked with his local County Board of Developmental Disabilities?

He said no to either.

I have. I've trained a 22-year-old girl who couldn't read; taught her to memorize the menu of our restaurant and kept pushing her until she finally applied to be a supervisor. I needed a good Lt. in that kitchen and she'd put her whole foot up dishwashers' and cooks' asses when they slacked off. I honestly hope she lives with her grandmother for a long time; I think more people SHOULD live intergenerationally because we can't hire an entire third of the nation to be home health aids. But I certainly don't think that girl "deserves" to not work.

The guy kinda petered off into silence after a while because he just didn't have anything but empty outrage. The forum was anti-work and lord knows plenty of people on it have many reasons to hate labor (while also hating investing and capitalism) and don't want to work for others but also don't want to work for themselves, and so on and so on and so on.

But I asked him what point did he honestly think he was trying to prove. 1) Disability doesn't make a person invalid and more people, 2) by the full definition of disability, have one than you may think, adn 3) the vast majority of disabilities do not move the needle as much as he is assuming.

A person with mild mental retardation (2.0-2.5% of the population) can do your taxes for you because they can learn up to a 6th grade level and the average American reading level is 7th grade. High school graduation tests only test for 9-10th grade level and collegiate level education is used very sparingly in real life and most college-educated people use middle school level in daily life.

Who do you think you are saving when the only difference between you and a person with a 70IQ is that you have the capacity to learn more complex concepts and then waste your life never actually picking up a book? Do you know how dumb you look when a girl who can't read knows your job better than you because she had to put more work in to overcome her disadvantage, so she memorized and repeated until she perfected it while you used all~llll that extra IQ to rationalize your laziness and lack of integrity with "I won't be paid more if I know the menu better"? And then she got promoted. Above you. Before you. You chump. (Yeah, there was a 50yo guy at work who loved to undermine and game the system using that whole "if I make $16/hr but put in $12/hr effort, its like I'm making over on them" but then he went ballistic when she was promoted and because his supervisor.)

And with all that being said, comprehensive medical assistance care and public accommodation are vital to a nation that cares about quality of life and public health. But even the most depressed person in the world is awake for 16 hours a day, and I'm fairly certain digging up a potato and plucking a tomato would help both their depression and their hunger. There is no such thing as being too good or too bad for labor. Labor is not the enemy.

I think Jesus said it best. "Are you seriously telling me that if your cow fell into a well, you'd refuse to save it because its Sabbath day? The dogma of "I get one day off to rest" is more important to you than the clear and present necessity of saving your only cow? Honestly?"

Power Armor Punch Part Nineteen

Masterlist

Lucille: Ugh! Not the Poseiden Energy Plant again! Why do they like this place so much! *looking at the towering building*

Deacon: Maybe cause it's the last place anyone in their right mind would check? Wasn't that place absolutely SWARMING with Mirelurks when we stormed it at first?

Lucille: *frowns* It was like... six, Deacon. But no, that's not the problem... it's flooded and the only entrance is crawling through that pipe. *points at the pipe they're now standing in front of. Shudders* I hate swimming through that sewage.

Deacon: What do you mean? Sewage is FUN to swim through!

Lucille: *rolls her eyes* So fun, Nick wanted to burn the Silver Shroud outfit.

Nick: *system's running quieter without his engine... it's mostly just the coolant pump gurgling behind the mostly shut casing*

Jasmine: (She lets herself clings onto him like a small sobbing child, hoping that he does not mind on how childish she is being AGAIN for the millionth time today)

Lucille: *making her way through the pipe and through the facility*

Deacon: Water and radiation... great combo...

Lucille: Don't start...

Deacon: Wait? It's true!

Lucille: *sigh* No wonder Nick doesn't like you.

Deacon: He doesn't like anyone fun.

Lucille: Not true. He tolerates Hancock.

Deacon: Tolerates. Last I checked, that's not synonymous with "enjoys each other's company."

Nick: *doesn't mind if it makes her feel better in the end*

Jasmine: (Hides her face in his coat, try to ignore that still strong urge to fight so she can rip out the blasted IV)

Nick: *rubs her back. Still very worried about her*

Jasmine: (Slowly starting to calm down after her sudden fit, her body relaxing and her tears slowing down)

Nick: *making a note to try and be more on top of his maintenance for her sake...*

Lucille: Ugh... I BET they're on the same level as last time! What are they even doing?? It's not like they have a retention bureau to return synths back to!

Deacon: Someone DID evacuate the Institute. Maybe they have a little cozy place set up. Bet it even gets cable.

Lucille: Heh. Like they'd care about TV in the wasteland.

Jasmine: (Takes in a slow, calm breath, still clinging onto him as she comes back down from that smaller mental break)

Nick: *still aside from his reassuring petting. The wires make him feel less human...*

Jasmine: (Sniffs on her slowed down tears, turning her head from Nicks coat to slightly look up at him with those teary childlike eyes)

Nick: *notices and looks down at her with a small soft smile* Hey, kiddo. Guess we're both laid up involuntarily, huh? *very very gently shakes her*

Jasmine: (Just keeps staring up at him, humming softly in response)

Nick: I wish I could rip out these wires... *sighs* But alas, I've no battery. You'd think they'd think of everything but apparently a back up power source wasn't one of them.

Jasmine: (Blinks a few times, slightly lifting her bandaged arm with the IV. She wishes she could rip it clean out, but humans apparently need to eat and drink often to stay powered sooo…)

Nick: *soft laugh* Good point.

Jasmine: (Takes in another deep breath, hiding her face back in his coat so she doesn't have to look at the dammed IV anymore)

Nick: *very quietly* Sorry... *shouldn't have brought it up. Bad call*

Jasmine: (Scoots herself closer to Nick, wanting to say its alright but she cant bring herself to look up at him. Why did she have to be such a fucking mess of a person right now? Breaking at the slightest things like IVs keeping her alive and people getting even somewhat close?)

Nick: *feels detached somehow. Cold despite Jas being so close. Though he supposes that's appropriate to what he is*

Jasmine: (Quivers, soft tears are still dripping on her cheeks as she shifts her head so she is looking down. She gently taps on his arm to get his attention) (Signing, hands shaking) “I wish I wasn't so pretty, Its done more harm than good…”

Nick: *snaps out of it and looks down at her* I know... I can't believe- *bites his tongue before he says something that will send her spiraling again. Solemnly* ... I'm sorry you had to suffer for it.

Jasmine: (Chuckles dryly, looking down at herself) (Signing) “If I didn't look like I belonged on a teen beach magazine, everyone might have left me alone and half of my problems wouldn't even exist….”

Nick: *not sure how to respond to that... he goes quiet. He wagers the only reason Lucille didn't get the same treatment was because of where her vault was. She made powerful friends fast- she was lucky. Tough as nails but kind in her keen way. And when it came down to it, she was smart enough to work her way out of a bad situation. But Jas? She was all of those things except lucky and he hated how much of a deciding factor that was*

Jasmine: (Runs her hand over her stitches, sniffing on her tears) (Signing) “Worst part is that no one cared. No one cared how old I looked. You asked me once why I wear a mask when we go out. Its because no one cared at all, in fact they seemed to want it more once they saw how helpless I looked-” (Pauses to wipe her own face. She doesnt understand why she is ranting to Nick about this when nothing can be done about it…) (Signing quickly) “Im sorry, I will stop...”

Nick: *if he could feel sick to his stomach, he would be... but it's also the way the world is. He can't change it, he knows that, but he can do his best to help those in need... just like he's always done*

Jasmine: (Looks away, wrapping her arms around her waist. Why did she fucking do that? No one needed to hear about her little problems, there was bigger things at hand…)

Nick: *reassuringly, realizing how dismissive his silence has been* No, no... It's alright- I was processing everything. *pulls her in again* I'm listening. Go on...

Jasmine: (Tilts her head up at him) (Signing) “You sure? You have been taking care of me all day… Nothing can be done about it.”

Nick: I know... but sometimes it helps to talk. Get things off your chest. Besides... *lightly tugs on the cables* Not like I can go anywhere at the moment.

Jasmine: (Studies his facial expression and body language. Did he really want to hear? Or only because he couldn't go anywhere? She wasn't even suppose to rant off in the first place so it would be better if she stopped...)

Nick: I do want to hear what you have to say regardless if I could leave or not.

Jasmine: (Sighs deeply, leaning her head back on his chest. She is gonna regret this later isn't she?) (Signing, her hands still shaking) “I-... always wondered why “they” had decided to teach a ten year old how to bat her eyelashes at people, but now I see why. Like they knew how people would still be... That they would not care that I look like a kid.” (Tilts her head to looks back up at Nick) (Signing) “But I guess it did help get me out of certain life or death situations… No matter how bad that sounds.” (Looks down at herself, wishing she could just rip apart her attractive body and pretty face. She wouldn't be surprised if “they” had made alterations to her body for better effectiveness…)

Nick: *again if he could feel sick, he would be. He doesn't say anything but he nods, understanding fully that she was doing what she needed to survive at the time*

Jasmine: (She wants to say more, but cant find any words/signs. Maybe its her mind going into protective mode to keep information from spilling. So she just stares blankly down at her body, hating every bit of it at the moment)

Nick: *waits patiently for her to gather her thoughts*

Jasmine: (Turns her herself so she is snuggling back in Nicks coat for comfort, feeling the dreaded waves of memories coming back. She actually hopes that they will go away so she can continue for once…)

Nick: *rubs her back some more as he stares out into the room*

Jasmine: (Clings onto him, squeezing her eyes shut. She hates to keep admitting this… its a sign of weakness. But he is her father figure and the person she trusts the most to help her) (Whispering, her voice shaking) “Im scared, Dad… What do I do?” (She spent five, almost six hellish years fighting off any of her fears with brute force, but now she is stuck as she cant fight her memories or herself…)

Nick: *eyes widen as he looks down then back again. He honestly isn't sure what exactly is the right call here* I... I'm not entirely sure. The way I deal with bad memories might not work with yours. It's taken me a long time to realize that these flashes I get are just that- flashes. They're a part of me, sure, but they aren't me, persé... *rubs the back of his head* Best guess is to disarm them in some fashion... *softly* For now, just know you're safe...

Jasmine: (Nods against his chest, taking in a few deep breaths to help calm herself)

Nick: ... *gone still again*

Jasmine: (Steady's her breathing and her thoughts, looking back up at Nick ready to continue but pauses at the still look on his face. Was something wrong? Did she do or say something wrong again? Was she being too clingy and childish? Gently tugs on his arm, tilting her head with concern, pulling herself back)

Nick: *looks down with a smile again* You're fine. I really don't mind the contact... *looks down in thought* Sorry if I go stiff on you. When there's not much to say I tend to get lost in my own head.

Jasmine: (Stays back with her head tilted. What was he thinking about?) (Signing) “Are you okay?”

Nick: *doesn't want to worry her more* As well as I can be hooked up to the power grid of the vault. *flashes a reassuring smile*

Jasmine: (Looks down. She would smile or hum if it wasn't her fault) (Signing) “Im sorry.”

Nick: No, no... *pulls her to him again* It isn't your fault, doll. Decades of detective work can really put a toll on the old fusion engine... I'm simply just an old synth. Past my warranty. *wry chuckle*

Jasmine: (Sighs, leaning in closer to him as she is pulled in) (Signing, her hands still shaking) “You are also my Dad, but I don't know if thats even a good thing…” (Wipes her eyes)

Nick: *still very alien concept to him despite all his dealings with Lucille, Shaun, and even Nat. The two kids have the whole town looking out for them and Lucille's an adult* I fail to see how it couldn't be... you'd probably be in a hell of a lot worse place without me.

Jasmine: (Dry scoff, running her hands over her leg cuts, half tempted to scratch) (Signing) “Not for me, for you.”

Nick: *immediately stares her down hearing that* Don't you ever worry about that. It'll take it's toll, sure, but that's just part of the job of being a parent. *expression softens* As long as you're safe, happy, and healthy, then it will all have been worth it in the end.

Jasmine: (Blinks down at herself) (Signing, her fingers stiff) “Parenting me took a heavy toll on my Mom... too heavy. What if that happens to you? Im the most messed up person one could meet…” (Her hands start moving to her arms, picking at the edges of the bandages. She could not deal with that shit again, she didn't even really finish dealing with it the first time)

Nick: Hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I've seen and dealt with the kind of monsters this place makes. You're not one of them. *takes her hands again to keep her from from scratching* There were probably a lot of other things you're mother was worried about besides you that we'll never know about... *sighs* She had three kids to feed. Three kids to take care of. That adds up. *takes the burnt out cigarette butt out of his mouth and flicks it to some corner of the room*

Jasmine: (Pulls her hands away) (Signing) “I throw a fit whenever I have to eat or get medical attention. I cant sleep or speak right now, not that I do much of both. And I am literally trained to hunt, seduce and kill which Ive done many times before. I think I am WAY more messed up than what you are thinking right now... Im not worth it.” (Grips her wrists tightly, looking away. Can she even truly be safe, happy, and healthy? It seemed liked it couldn't to her, every good moment gets ruined by memories and reflexes)

Nick: Still not the worst I've encountered... The eating and medical attention bit we can work on. Eventually you'll get your voice back. And believe me, you want those skills out here in the wasteland.

Jasmine: (Quietly scoffs, wiping her eyes. Oh, she definitely believes him on the “skills” part as she has used them before, but she doesn’t believe the other ones however) (Signing) “I didn't even name half of it and its already exhausting.” (Closes her eyes, taking in a breath. Guess the biggest one for right now was her mental state. If Nick wasn't in here, she would have made another attempt on her still worthless life…)

Nick: *isn't sure what to say other than what seems to be meaningless words of comfort. All he can do at the moment is comfort her*

Jasmine: (Sighs deeply, putting both her hands to her teary face. Or would she try to die again? Her mind is so jumbled and fucked up that she is not even really sure anymore, if she ever was) (Signing, her hands stiff) “Now what?” (Rests her head back on his chest, not knowing what to do or say/sign anymore. She could keep ranting off or crying like a child, but what else would that do?)

Nick: We wait... and try not to get lost in our own heads... *holds his adopted daughter close*

Lucille: *Ruthlessly running down a courser with a chain saw* YES! BLEED! *maniacal laughter*

Deacon: *shooting the gen 2s they summoned* Scary! *gets singed a little. Like a child* OW, Ow! OW! Ooooow!

Jasmine: (Wraps her arms around his neck to hold onto her Dad and finishes crying softly in his coat. That was going to be a hard challenge for her… What are they even waiting for? Other than for Lucille to return… But whats going to be happening after that? How long does she have to stay here?)

Nick: *back to rubbing her back to comfort her* You're not uncomfortable at all...?

Lucille: *after cutting through the courser, she turns on the last gen 2 synth and unflinchingly tears through the left side of the drone* Right... let's find the one with the best looking engine and get out of this awful place!

Deacon: Yeah. Pretty dry up here, though.

Lucille: *glares, raising her beloved Sutcliffe the ripper threateningly*

Deacon: Okay! Okay! It sucks! Don't kill me! *already inspecting the gen 2s*

Jasmine: (Shakes her head, humming quietly, but sweetly. She is actually the very opposite right now, if Nick means by being cuddled up by him. He saw in what places she was forced to sleep and lay in, and those were some of the better days. She can fall asleep leaning on a wall if she wanted. Plus being so close to someone she loved was like a comforting shield Takes in a deep breath to whisper, the words can barely be made out but she tries) “Are you comfortable?”

Nick: Absolutely. *smiles down at her*

Jasmine: (Looks up and gives a weak, teary half smile back)

Nick: *rests his head on hers, hiding a very contemplative face*

Jasmine: (Softly hums, hiding her face in his coat just for the extra comfort of it)

Nick: *hopes he's doing right by her... trying not to come off as a pale imitation of a person*

Jasmine: (Blinks at a realization, moving to give herself just enough room to sign) (Signing) “What did Curie say?” (She puts her arms and head back where they were as soon as she was done) (She was much to out of it to hear a thing Curie said to them, hopefully it wasn't that bad of news…)

Nick: She said you're not pregnant and that, as far as diseases go, you're clean. Chem wise? Well, we already knew you had a chem problem- I just didn't expect it to be that bad.

Jasmine: (Flinches at that last part, hiding herself more in his coat. She didn't want to talk about it now or ever)

Nick: *worried about her Chem problem but she's in such a fragile mental state he's not going to push it...*

Lucille: *holding a synth over her shoulder as she walks to the edge of the roof of the facility*

Deacon: Don't-

Lucille: *jumps off, slaming into the ground in her power armor*

Deacon: *sighs and slides down a pipe on the side of the building* You gotta do that every time?

Lucille: *devilish smile behind her helmet* Yes.

Jasmine: (Sniffs, holding onto him a little tighter)

Nick: *Feels sorry for her. And, if she's really the original Nick's long lost kid, like he's let her down in some way*

Deacon: So how's Dogmeat going to get down-?

Dogmeat: *jumps from the roof with a howl*

Deacon: You taught him that bad habit, didn't you?

Lucille: Nope. He taught me.

Deacon: *thinks she's crazy*

Jasmine: (Closes her eyes, focusing again on his inner machinery so she doesn't have to deal with the thought of her chem issue and other things. Soon she knew that the sedatives/medicine will wear off and she will feel a withdraw, but she gave Nick all her chems she had on hand… Unless she goes for her other stashes. Dammit, how many issues does she have and why do they all show up today?)

Nick: *just more gurgling of his coolant pump. He finds himself staring at a wall, trying to keep his attention off the power cables running from his casing*

Jasmine: (Shuffles so she is looking straight back up at him. Its not working anymore, she is slipping back downwards and its getting her anxious…)

Nick: *notices and glances back down at her* Something wrong, kiddo?

Jasmine: (Nods. There are many things wrong right now…)

Nick: Talk to me kiddo...

Jasmine: (Moves her hands so she has room to sign) (Signing) “Where do I even start again?”

Nick: Start with the one that's bugging you the most...

Jasmine: (Tilts her head, thinking it over with herself. And what would that even be? Maybe the chems, or her horrible metal state. But was that not part of that? Or was it the memories of being raped? God, everything was connected…) (Signing) “I don't know Dad, they are all connect to one another in some way or another. Which all narrows down to what was done to me, what I became… Its killing me.”

Nick: Hm... What do you mean by what you became? What happened?

Jasmine: (Looks at him briefly, taking in a deep breath and sigh then she looks away) (Signing, her hands trembling and stiff) “I guess “they” were aiming to make me a assassin of sorts, going off by all the training I was put through as soon as they took me. I think they did everything they could to make me a detached, heartless, violent, seductive killer, and I fear it worked because thats exactly what I was when I left the Vault. I didn't even realize it until I saw that everyone was long gone.” (Pauses, not sure if she SHOULD go further)

@lucilleandherrobots

Til death do us part | Helmut Zemo

Bodyguard AU! 🕶

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Previous chapter] - [Next chapter]

Part 4

London. Arriving to London was much the same as when you arrived to Paris. The Baron ignored you throughout the flight, you were in the follow up car to the hotel, which once again as the exact place you would expect a Baron to stay at, and then you were situated on his floor until he was ready for his meeting.

You figured at this point every meeting was going to be pretty much the same. Maybe you would be able to come up with some fun little games to play while you stood on guard.

You might as well since this was going to be a long process.

The Baron leaves for his meeting and you all follow him. Once again it's pretty much the same as it was in Paris. A meeting in an official building where alliances and such would be discussed and they would make a deal.

You began to wonder if your mental state would be able to handle so many days of this.

However, none of this seemed to last long.

On the dawn of the second day, you all got up and positioned yourself on the hotel floor like before. The Baron got dressed, was escorted to breakfast, returned to his room for a bit, and was then escorted to his meeting as per usual.

The only difference was that Steve wasn't present that day. He had recieved a call earlier from Stark, the big boss, and had to take it. Sam had taken over Steve's postion beside the Baron that morning.

Steve wasn't present on the way to the meeting that day, but he showed up just as the meeting started. He came over to where you and Bucky stood.

"We have an issue."

You both look at him, waiting.

"They're here. I have word that the group who are after the Baron is in London and they're in the area," he keeps his voice level.

You share a glance with Bucky.

"Instructions?" You ask.

"Pay attention. I don't know where they are, where they'll come from, but if they really are here, we have to act fast. When the meeting is over, do not let the Baron out of your sight. I know he isn't too fond of you, Y/N, but no matter what he says, don't leave his side."

"You can count on me, Steve."

He knows he can. He nods at you and leaves your side, making his way over to the others to alert them. You share another look with Bucky, both of you nodding.

The nod. A silent signal. It can be a greeting, or a full on conversation. It's a solid way of communicating without words.

The meeting goes on for an hour before Zemo exists. As soon as he does, both Bucky and yourself are at his side. You let Bucky do the talking, feeling the Baron will the listen to him over you.

"We believe your life to be at risk. We have word that group are in town and may be here for you. Please do as we say and we make sure you are escorted back to your hotel safely."

The Baron, at first, looks confused, but then he seems to become more serious. He glances at you and narrows his eyes.

"They sent you?"

"Yes, sir."

"Where are the others?" He asks.

"On watch. We can't take any chances. I know you don't think I'm capable, sir, but please work with us here. I'm here to a job, and I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety, sir."

Never before have you spoken to a client like that, but your words rang true. You had a job to do and you were going to do it.

He stares at you.

You can't tell if he's upset with you for talking to him like that, or if he was just trying to think about his options, of which he didn't have many.

"Very well. What do you want me to do?" He asks, looking at you. You don't have time to think about that too much.

"Remain calm as we walk you outside. The car is just outside across the road. We are going to get you inside. I ask that you keep your head down. If I ask you to get down, please get a close to the ground as possible. Barnes and I will shield you then best we can."

Zemo doesn't say anything as he looks at you. He nods. A nod of confirmation. He understood the protocol.

You glance at Bucky.

"Ready?" You ask him.

"Ready."

Bucky and yourself walk on either side of the Baron as you head for the doors. Natasha and Clint are right outside, eyes on the rooftops. Steve and Carol are right behind you. Sam is near the car, waiting.

You step outside casually. Bucky and yourself are trying to note every detail, every person who is on this street.

The silence in the air feels eerie.

You get Zemo out into the street. It's far too quiet for your liking. No other vehicles are turning down the road and that makes you uncomfortable.

You glance down the road.

You're all almost across the street. Looking at Sam, you see he has his eyes on the roof of the building you had just come from.

You don't like this.

You're nearly at the car.

A shot rings out in the air and everything happens all at once.

All bodyguards take out their weapons and keep them up as they try and pinpoint where the gunshot rang from. There was no sign of anyone. The Baron crouched down by the car, you take a knee beside him, Bucky shielding him from the other side.

You focus your eyes on the rooftops.

"I don't see anyone," you say down through the earpieces.

"Nothing," you hear Nat say.

"All clear here," Carol states.

"Clear," Clint responds.

"Don't let your guard down," Steve says.

There's another shot. It strikes the car. You swear under your breath as you look up at where it may have come from.

"Not the rooftop!" You state.

Bucky sees the open window. There's movement within, but he can't get an angle. He looks at you over his shoulder.

"I have to move, you going to be alright?" He asks.

You nod.

Zemo looks up at you, brows furrowed together.

"You're leaving me with them?" He asks, turning back to Bucky.

Bucky looks at him.

"You're in good hands."

Bucky says no more as he pushes away from the car and bolts further down the street, taking cover behind the car you had arrived in. You open the car door.

"Please get in, sir."

Zemo stares at you.

Another shot rings out, another one striking the car. He jumps slightly.

"Give me a weapon, I was military, I can shoot," he says.

"Sorry, sir, but I cannot do that. Please get in the car. I have to get you out of the area."

He glares at you, but he climbs into the car as he is told to do. You close the door behind him and stand up, keeping your back to the car. Zemo tucks himself down in front of the seats. He keeps his eyes on you through the window.

"Crazy," he mutters.

You turn to see Bucky waiting the person in the window. From where you moved to, they wouldn't be have a good enough shot on you. However, you should have remembered the fact that cars had stopped coming down this road.

Load screeching causes you turn around. A big bulky vehicle comes to a stop at the end of the street. Along with the others, you lift your gun and hold it up at the car. Nothing happens for a minute, but all at once the car doors open and several people jump out.

All of them are armed.

Helmut watches you raise your gun. It had been a long time since he felt fear like this. They were here for him.

Gunshots go off. He turns to see three of the people from the car either fall back, or backtrack to cover. The others continue to shoot at his bodyguards.

More gunfire and suddenly he can't see you any more.

Zemo moves and looks out the window properly. You're kneeling on the ground. You're hurt.

Zemo glances up and sees them getting back in the car. The windows are rolled down. He panics all of a sudden.

"Shit." He opens the car door and runs toward you. He kneels in front of you and looks down at you. You look at him, brow furrowed.

"Get back in the car!"

"You're hurt."

"No shit. Get back in the car."

You reach for your gun and hold it up toward the car. The engine revs. They're going to drive right into you if you don't move.

You fire a couple of shots, but they got you in the shoulder and it hurts like hell. You groped your gun and give the Baron a rough shove.

"GO!"

He hesitates. He looks at you. It looks like a lot of blood, but it probably wasn't. Still, he can't help how worried he feels right now.

Why was he so scared?

Maybe because this was the first time in years they had come for him, and seeing you bleeding out in front of him takes him back to that night.

Two strong hands grab him by the shoulders and pull him back. He's startled for a moment. He looks back to see Bucky pulling him back toward the car. He is roughly shoved into the back. Bucky slams the door shut and climbs into the drivers seat.

"Wait, we are leaving them?"

As Bucky starts the engine, Zemo looks outside and sees you passed out on the street. Everyone else seems too busy to attend to you and he wonders what will happen.

He wants to jump out and move you, but the doors are locked.

"Go back!" He yells as the car turns sharply and drives down the other direction.

He just left you there!

Zemo had just seen you do your job. You protected him and took a hit for him. Perhaps more than one hit.

Were they just going to leave you to die?

Zemo tries to keep his eyes on you as Bucky drives, but they're not on that street long enough for him to do so.

Through Bucky's earpiece, he hears Steve.

"Ambulance en route. The gang have reversed out of the street, stay off the main roads and be careful."

Bucky replies, "roger that."

Zemo sits in the back in silence. He doesn't know what to do or what to think. Everything had happened so very quickly.

He was also confused.

Why had guilt settled within him.

You had done your job. He had been wrong about you. He can say that now.

I was wrong about you.

@thesuitkovian @justfangirlthingies @belle82devart @zemosimp420 @anteroom-of-death @silverlambcaptain @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing @lieutenantn @daniielbruhl @awesomesauce-abbie @latenightartist-author @lazygurl05 @rumblelibrary @nonamec0s @shura-gorl @ginger-abreu @caligrl1992 @livvyshmiv @luciadiosa @vverliebt @tatooineisdry @charistory @somethingthatsaysbubbles

maven and thomas, the truth untold.

Hello, I just wanted to say a few things about this one-shot

1. English is not my first language so there will probably be a lot of weird things with the writing ... Maybe some misspellings, or something like that (sorry).

2. I'm using as a base a Maven that is still not fully "with" Elara in his mind, only when they are together, and because they are not, he is very confused about some things.

3. If you are Victoria Aveyard: I swear that my dog pointed a gun to my head and made me do this, I swear. please don't sue me.

PART I

—

Maven

This place makes me sick. People planing to kill, or send more people to die, over nothing.

If you are going to command useless people, at least do it to make them useful. My brother does not think like me, though. He is the perfect soldier. Fulling himself with fighting strategies and training, like that would solve anything. What wins a war is not guns, it is a brain.

The worst of all that in here, the barracks, they all follow that. The rules of my ridiculous father. I wish mother was here. Or not. I don't know.

"Maven?" Can you shut your fucking mouth for one second?

"Hi, Cal" He is standing in my doorstep. The thing is, in here I'm not 'a king's son. I'm addressed as such, I have my guards, but I don't have the advantage, and that is one more thing that I despise about this place.

"General Osanos is showing us the engineer behind the new guns that are being send to the front line tomorrow, like he promised us at lunch, let's go." Like he promised CAL at dinner last night, I couldn't care less.

"I don't feel so good, maybe I should just stay here", thankfully, I'm good at lying.

"Just call Skonos and come, It will be fun!" No it won't.

"Cal just… Let me stay here, alright?"

"C'mon Maven!"

"FOR MY COLORS CAL— just — I DON'T WANT TO GO", I try to stop screaming, but then I realize I don't want to... I feel like it could kill him right now. I mean... I don't want to go to that stupid thing but... I shouldn't be this angry.

Should I?

"...Maven, did something happen? Are you okay?"

He tries to enter the room, I can see how worried he gets. It's not usual that I yell at him. At anyone, actually.

"Go fuck yourself, Cal! Just... Leave me Alone!" Definitely not THIS angry. But as I'm walking away I realize exactly what made me act like this. I don't need your perfect self around me all the time, Tiberias. I hate the fact that I'm here because of yo— Great, I've run so much that I don't even know where I am — ... I hate you. Do I?

—

Getting into the stables was the only decision I actually took since I got here, and it was an amazing one. Even being night I can see the horses, and It's quiet, I can just… Breathe. I've been here for at least for half of an hour by now, I couldn't scream like I wanted to, because someone could hear me, so I cried. As much as I hate doing that, it helps a lot.

"Excuse me" I hear something falling down.

"Who's there?!", a flame appears on my hand, but it flames out when I see a red.

"No one you'd know. I work here ... Are you okay?" The red is tall, taller than me, I can't see his face perfectly, but I would guess he is just a couple of years older. He's staring at the tears on my eyes.

"I'm fine", I say as I clean them up, more terse than I expected to be.

"Are you sure?", My eyes must be really gray.

"Just grab what you came here for and leave, Red"

"You are on top of it, Silver", weirdly, he says that as if he's telling a joke.

"Don't you know who I am?", I ask.

"It's really dark, and you look like almost everyone in here, so I really don't. Could you please excuse me?", he is pointing to the hay I was sitting on. That doesn't sound like a bad thing, him not knowing who I am. I can just act "normal" for a few moments. As I get up I can tell by the look on his face that he notices the silver on my hand and on the block of hay. It wasn't on purpose, but he wouldn't think that.

"Don't tell anyone you saw me here", I know he doesn't know me, but still.

I hear the Red take a big breath before saying, "Again, I don't even know who you are, and what would I say, exactly? 'Hey everyone, I went to the stables today and found a grumpy bossy silver, aka a like every silver we know. It was a really special day' ", I can tell he didn't give much of thought before saying that, because my laugh surprises him…

And I.

"I'm... Sorry" But my apology doesn't. Weird.

"It's fine. You don't seem to be having a good day anyway, so..."

"I'm not..." We stare at each other for a few seconds before he says, "... Here is really nice, isn't it? The horses, the sky. If you close your eyes for long enough, you can even forget that there's a war out there. You can just... Breathe"

"... I guess so...", more staring.

"Is your hand...?"

"I lifted the saw that it was on top of the hay... It was stupid"

"Oh! Are you... Okay?"

"I'm just... Angry, I'll be fine", why am I telling him this?

"There are other places here in case you need to... Breathe. By the lake is very quiet. You can go to the second floor of the base at lunchtime, no one is there or..."

"You seem to know your way in to ... Quiet places", do I know any words? What the hell did I just say?

"I'm red, I ... get angry a lot"

" 'Those silvers, Huh?' ", The joke comes out before I can actually realize.

"Such a pain in my ass..." I see his confusing after saying that, I guess he thought it would get me mad. When I laugh, I see his shoulders sagging a bit.

"But... You don't seem to... hate me" 

"What do you mean?"

"All reds hate silvers, and all silvers hate reds. And yet, here you are... Making conversation. I think...", I know people... But I can't figure him out.

"Did you memorize that first line in school?"

"More like... Life experience"

"... Do you hate me?", he seems really worried about that. No. No?

"... Maybe not."

"Well... I don't hate _all_ silvers. My aunt was one, and she was a lovely person, her people are usually...", I can see his brain picking the right words, "... Not the best — But I have learned that the color of someone's blood doesn't define much"

Is he leaving? When he lends me a piece of fabric, I believe it is to clean my hand, I see that he is... Unfortunately.

"Why are you being nice?", I ask.

He makes a cute face when he is thinking.

"Trying to get you not to hate me, I guess"

Good job.

—

Since I got here, two weeks ago, I haven't been able to hear my mother's voice. I've been confuse about what to think, sometimes I even think I might be having a dream, but then I wake up.

That happen this morning. I could swear I saw that boy in my room before I was totally awake.

But I haven't seen him in three days.Not that I'm counting or anything, I just... Know.

Maybe I should go to the stables again? He could be there. Or maybe I should ask someone about him.

And say what? 'Who is 'stable boy?' For my colors, this is frustrating.

I don't even know why I want to see him again. I just do.And everything is so much worse with Cal trying to apologize for what happened. I get it, you are sorry. Even though you don't know what you are being sorry for.

After a boring, but I must admit, helpful, training with Osanos, I got send to the basement by the General — because in here apparently 'all of us have to help' — to grab... What was it?

"Hello, grumpy guy. Fancy clothes."

He scared me by showing up from nowhere.

He is looking at my training clothes.

And he is close.

I don't know what am I supposed to say. This is confusing. He is making me mad because ... I'm usually good with words.

"Hi", seriously Maven? The boy complements you, and that's all you can come up with?

"Angry again?"

"No", why does he want to know?

"So you really like quiet places?"

"You can say that — Maven, control your mouth— but that's not why I'm here. General Osanos ask me to grab a...", I tried to sound like I was serious and superior and all but... I can't fucking remember what I suppose to get.

"A...?"

"I forgot what it was", you know, like an idiot.

I guess he can see the confusion in my head because he starts laughing.

"... That's gonna be good", he says, like he is thinking out loud.

"I have to remember", Not that I care about what Osanos wanted but, this guy needs to see a superior of some sort in me, right?

"Are you sure the thing you need is in here?"

"Yes, the General said so"

"Okay, let me see", he takes a step towards me.

"Let... Let you see what?", why am I getting nervous?!

"What we have in here. I'll tell you what I can find, that I think they would want, and then when your thing appear you'll probably remember it"

"Don't you ... Have work to do?" I hope do not sound rude. Gladly, he smiles before saying, "My job is to please and serve silvers... I'd be doing just that"

I didn't like that "pleasing and serve" coming from him. I don't know why. "You could 'help' me find it. What do you think?"

"Okay...", Now I've surprised him.

We spent 40 minutes, until I remember that I needed the huge roll of maps beside the door. Now I definitely feel like an idiot.

"There you go", he gives me the maps.

"Thank you... — I don't know your name"

His smirk is the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Wait, what?

"I must be making progress about the 'not hating' thing" MAVEN CALORE, DON'T YOU DARE BLUSH.

"You... Might be"

For my colors stop smiling, it's annoyingly beautiful.

"I'm Thomas", He stands his hand and I see scars on his wrist, rope marks, It's impossible not to notice that I'm looking at it.

"... I got those for stealing a jacket that my sister... Wanted"

"I'm sorry"

"It's not your fault. Anyway, what's your name?"

"... I'm…" I feel... Embarrassed? "Maven"

"... Maven Calore", He stays quiet for only three seconds, but if it feels like eternity "Nice to... Officially meet you"

I guess he didn't notice the fire that day.

"... Now you hate me", I say it out loud and immediately wish I haven't.

"No"

"You do"

"Ma — Your highness, I do not hate you"

"You don't have to lie"

"Why do you think I am lying?"

"You just called me 'Your highness', I'm not the guy from 2 minutes ago for you"

"I barely knew that guy"

"And now you think he is a son of a bitch"

"Why would I think that?"

"Because I'm silver"

"I knew you were silver before"

"Because I'm... The king's son. My father is responsible for...", I can't help but look at his marks.

"I don't hate you... Maven", he doesn't seem to be lying.

"Really?"

"To hate someone, I have to at least know them first. Maybe I do hate your father and everything he stands for but... I don't know you"

"We help people like you to be killed"

"Like you just said, your father does", I'm curious to see why he's trying so hard.

"Either way, I'm not sure if you're going to like me"

"I think that... You seem to be the guy that goes somewhere else when he's angry. And I'm sorry if I'm being invasive, but — You seem to be hurting. Not the type of pain you heal with a Skonos, but real pain... And that makes you different from a lot of people in there"

"I don't need pity"

"That's not what I'm trying to—"

"I don't feel that pain for Reds, I feel that because of myself", I get so nervous that I admit that without thinking twice about it.

Thomas saw that, he notices my surprise, so he gives me a warm smile and says, "But at least there are feelings in there. I may be wrong but from what I saw you're not trying to be invincible, a lot of silvers think they are"

I really don't know what to say. "... You took that by one meeting?"

"Maven, the only silver I know that it would have actually talked to me or accepted my help today instead of you was my aunt, and she was lovely..."

"My brother would", I think he notices my discomfort in talking about Cal.

"Well, I don't know him"

"You would want to meet him, everyone does"

"I'm not everyone"

"... Why do you want to know me?!"

"I've said it already, you seem different"

"What if that's a bad thing?"

"What if is not?"

"... I've got to go"

Maybe he just wants something from me. Money, probably.

"Maven, can you do me a favor?" I'm not facing him anymore. "Only talk about your brother if you really have to. You look prettier when you don't"

Maybe he is just a good person.

—

—

I really hope you enjoyed!

I'll be posting more parts soon, there will be at least 4 or 5 (I'm almost done with the hole story already, don't worry), stay gay and hydrated, bye bye ❤

❛ TWO ROADS ❜

with Canche and Obispo ‘Bishop’ Losa.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 2k.

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to my wonderful @sonsofeorl ✨

Masterlist. You can subscribe to my broadcast list, to be notified whenever I post a writing!

“Please, don't do that. Let me go”. With both hands raised to the man, you tried to push him away.

“No”. He just said with a naughty smile drawn on his lips, before grabbing your wrists to lift you up over his shoulder like a heavy bag, walking to the main room of the house.

“Let me go!” You shouted stirring over him, until you felt your body falling down over the mattress.

Sitting up on your forearms, you blow into a rebellious tuft of hair in the middle of your face, frowning. You couldn't barely breathe because of the efforts, watching the man crawling above the bed.

“I swear I'm gonna kill you”.

“Will you?” He asked, twisting his neck slightly, pouncing on you to tickle you on both sides.

“Canche, stop!” You screamed between laughs, trying to catch his hands while he made himself some space between your legs.

“C'mon, five minutes more, princesa de los Mayas”. The mexican surrounded you with his strong arms, resting his face on your stomach.

“My father is gonna kill us, if he finds out”.

“Just five minutes more”. He begged almost in a whisper, closing his eyes.

“I hate you”. You growled rolling your eyes, pretending that you didn't want to spend some time more together.

“I'm glad to know that it's something reciprocated”. The Mayan muttered, moving some inches until reaching your lips.

Tangling your legs with his and placing your hands on his head, you deepened the kiss, keeping the slow pace but welcoming his tongue inside your mouth. Every time you were this close, he had the same effect on you like the first time, bristling your skin and needing for more. You could assure that he was so in love with you, as you were with him. And you would like to shout it to the rooftops. But that wasn't an option. Not for the moment, at least.

“I know that… you can't call me”. You said caressing his neck with one of your hands, using your nails to made him some sweet tickles. “But… two weeks is too much. Maybe… I don't know… a text, to know that you're okay”.

“I will try, mi amor. I swear it”. He replied with a low tone of voice, accommodating his head on the pillow. “And when I come back, we will disappear for some days. We can go to the beach, if you want”.

“Sounds good, yeah”. You nodded assorted on the way of his lips moving, totally spellbound hearing his voice.

The man took back his hands to undone the clasp of the fine gold chain, with a small medal of the Virgen de Guadalupe. Silent, and very focused on his new task, he placed it around your neck. You knew how much he loved that necklace, being a gift from his mother who passed away some years ago. Giving it to you meant more than anyone could imagine, and you would swear you were about to cry if he hasn't kissed you again.

You have never been a believer, but you started to pray every night for him, to keep him safe and alive. It has been two long weeks, with a trip that started in Southern Cali to Stockton and Oakland, continuing to Portland. And after that, back to Santo Padre. One of the trips more dangerous of Mayans history, with a shipment of AK-47, even if they were accompanied by some SOA charters. But the day of their return has come and, with it, all your men. At least, you know it when you see through the front window of your car all the bikes parked there. The first you find is your father's. Next to it, Canche's.

Almost jumping out from your seat, you run like never before to the inside of the clubhouse. But the situation that welcomes you is chaotic. You open the door on time to watch Bishop tackling your boyfriend. A storm of hits and kicks is around everywhere, while the other Mayans stare at you almost frowning. You don't need to be a genius to know what is happening. Grabbing Ibarra's gun, being aware that no one is going to stop the fight, you point at the roof to fire it. The bullet impacting on it, calls everyone's attention. The two men on the floor are breathing violently, blood on their faces and angry gestures. Then, you point at them.

“The next one throwing a punch, juro por la Virgen that I'm gonna shot his brain off”.

The men separate from each other, standing up over their feet and shaking their clothes.

“How much time have you been together?” Your father asks, cleaning a brief red thread flowing from his bottom lip. His eyes are filled with rage.

“Why does it matter, dad?”

“Because I asked you for one last thing, and you shitted on it”.

“Do you think I made it on purpose? That I chose it?”

“You betrayed me. And you lied to me”.

“For God's sake… Ain't gonna talk about it in front of all these men”.

“We don't have anything else to talk about. You already took a decision”.

You just nod, one time. Stretching your arm to Ibarra, you give him back his gun.

“Doing the same shit that your mother did”.

His whisper doesn't go unnoticed to your ears, taking a step ahead when he's about to unlock himself inside the Templo.

“You pushed mom away, just like you are doing with me. If you are alone, if you are losing the only people who really love you, it's because of you, padre. Because of your jealousy, because of your inflexibility, because of your egocentrism complex”.

Bishop doesn't turn, but suddenly stops his heavy feet.

“(Y/N), don't talk to your father like that”. Canche says, frowning at you.

“Truth fucks you up, right?” You say raising your chin. “Love doesn't mean to hurt, dad. And sometimes I feel that you stab my chest. That you suffocate me. I feel alone the whole time, and you don't really know what it feels like, because I'm always by your side. But you weren't for me when I needed you the most. So don't blame me for choosing a man who cares about me, without asking anything back, over you”.

It has been the worst weeks of your life. You were sure that you were suddenly and inevitably falling into a dark depression, when you realized that you haven't gone out of Canche's house since you came. Mostly, you are tucked in his bed, grabbing the pillow as strongly as you can, wetting it with your tormented tears. A prospect was accompanying you all the time that your boyfriend was away from your side.

“How is the kid?”

Taza gets up from his chair, before Canche can leave the Templo. He turns around crossing his arms over his chest.

“Who asks?”

No one replies.

“She isn't happy, if you wanna know it”. His eyes are on Bishop's. “She cries most of the day. Hardly eats anything. And I can't remember how her laugh sounds”.

Your boyfriend is about to continue his steps, but he stops again.

“And I had to take her to the hospital some days ago, because she has a panic attack”.

“Maybe if you di—”.

“Don't you dare to add me in your equation, Bishop. This is your fault, not mine. I care about her. I love her. And I want to spend my life with her. I'm not trying to steal your daughter from you. I'm not asking her to leave you. I was even about to delegate my position as Presidente, and ask for a change of charter to be close to her. To come to Santo Padre, so she wouldn't have to leave her family”. His voice sounds firmly, blunt. “You are losing your daughter because of you, not because of me”.

Canche doesn't want to waste more time, having a road of one hour and a half to his house. The only thing he wants right now is come back, be with you, and try to comfort your pain somehow. So he doesn't notice that the crew follows him to the outside, in the meantime that he reaches his motorcycle.

His way back home feels like an eternity, parking in front of the porch, and almost jumping out from the top of it. The prospect is waiting close to the door, shrugging his shoulders to let him know that nothing has changed. You heard the door getting opened, turning your head over the pillow, watching him coming into the room. You would like to smile, as every time you see him, but it's like if your brain doesn't send the order to your lips. Lying down and embracing you over the mattress, filling your face with a bunch of kisses.

“I've missed you, mi vida”. He whispers onto your lips, before caressing them. “I took a day off, so I will be here with you the whole time”.

You can't help but sink your face under his chin, letting him hold you tightly. That's the only moment you feel somewhat better, knowing that he's not going to kick out your ass. Knowing that he loves you unconditionally.

“How was him?” You whisper.

“Fucked like you”. He just replies, kissing your head. “But I know that he's going to come today, you will see. I know it”.

He wasn't wrong. Actually, Canche is never wrong. You suddenly wake up because of the loud roar of an engine. It's coming closer, accentuating over others behind it. The bed is empty, and the room is almost in darkness. Rubbing your eyes with your knuckles, you get up from the mattress, guiding your steps to the living room as soon as you hear your boyfriend greeting your father. Sticking your head out the corner of the hallway, your eyes find him before anyone else there. He looks like shit. His beard is longer, scruffy. The two black marks under his eyes tell you that he hasn't slept much more than you.

Canche moves his head in silence, indicating the crew to leave the house, so you would have some intimacy and time alone. Bishop takes a step ahead, trying to reach you, trying to say something. But he can't. Doubting, he walks a little closer. Slowly. Hoping that you don't turn him down. Raising a hand towards your left, he holds it to push you into his arms. Surrounding your body, he hugs you with that kind of love and warmth that only your father can transmit you. All the sadness and the pain has gone. The fear of losing him, inside your chest, isn't oppressing it anymore.

“I'm sorry”. He says in a whisper, tightening his grip around you.

“Me too…”

“You don't have to, because you were right. This is my fault, mi princesa”.

He pulls himself away from you, enough to find your reddened eyes, about to cry again.

“I know you have to leave the nest, but I'm not ready. And I will never be. But if you have to do it, I'm good knowing that Canche is by your side”.

Leaning, your father kisses your forehead, pressing his lips on it for some long seconds.

“Just let me take care of you tonight, please”.

You just nod in silence. You couldn't say ‘no’. You need him, you didn't know it could be this hard to live without him. It's not the same when he's on a trip, than when he's just away from you. Closing your arms around him, you hide your face on his chest, like you used to do when you were a child waking up from a nightmare.

“I will always love you, pa'. No matter who else is in my life. I will always love you more than anyone”.

“I know, princesa. I do. And I will always do it”.

Hurt/comfort prompt! Harley and Peter get in an argument after Peter comes home late. Harley is so stressed and worried that he doesn't notice Peter is injured until Peter collapses. 💖💖 No pressure to complete though.

As fiancés, compromises were important to keeping them from fighting.

They’d had a few rough patches since changing from boyfriends to fiancés, changing from living separately to cohabitating. It was hard balancing everything and still putting time into their relationship.

The biggest compromise they had to make was because of Spider-Man. The superhero took up the majority of Peter’s free time. Whenever he could, he’d be out swinging through the streets, stopping crime, and looking out for the little guy. And Harley was proud of him, of course he was. His fiancé was out there saving people, being a hero, how could he not be proud?

But when he’s left alone at restaurants when Peter races off to save somebody, when he’s left to an empty apartment most nights, when he’s alone more often than not, it hurts.

Being fiancés meant they were supposed to spend time together. They were supposed to be so wholly in love with each other that they couldn’t do anything but spend every moment attached at the hip.

Harley understands boundaries. He knows that Spider-Man is Peter’s escape from the real world, from the stresses of being Peter Parker, to give himself some time to think, Harley gets it. He does. He prides himself on not being jealous or angry or desperate.

But there’s a breaking point.

“I’m sorry, Harley. I’m so sorry, I just- There was this girl who lost her parents and she needed someone to get her home, and on my way back, I got caught up in a bank robbery and then there was this-”

“I’m done,” Harley says, voice flat and refusing to meet Peter’s eye. “I can’t do this anymore. It was one thing when you missed dates or movie nights or outings or even holidays. I could do it. I understand. But this?”

Peter’s face falls and he reaches out like he wants to comfort his fiancé, but he hesitates, hands hovering between them where Harley’s slumped on the edge of their bed, head in his hands.

Harley runs his hands through his hair again, further messing up his once perfectly styled curls. “I’m done, Peter.”

“I’m sorry, honey, I’m so sorry, really. I thought it would only take a second and then I got caught up and-”

“Our wedding!” Harley says, voice rising before he can stop it. He stands from the bed, arms lifting and shaking, before he lets them fall, defeated. “You missed our wedding.”

“Practice wedding,” the superhero corrects but his eyes are wet and his voice is tremblingly soft.

Harley rolls his eyes and pulls off his engagement ring, tossing it carelessly at Peter’s chest. It bounces off harmlessly and hits the ground. “I can’t do this anymore. You obviously care more about Spider-Man than you do me. I’ve put up with so much bullshit when it comes to this, but I never thought you’d miss something like this. How am I supposed to trust that you’d show up tomorrow? That you’d show up to our anniversaries? That you’d be there for me? I don’t want to spend the rest of my life waiting for you.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Nothing. I don’t want your excuses or your- your apologies. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

Peter’s crying, arms wrapped around his stomach, eyes wide and glassy. “Harley-”

But Harley doesn’t have anything left to give. He loves Peter, more than he’s ever loved anyone, more than he thought possible, but he’s spent the past six years doing everything in his power to hold their relationship together when it feels like Peter’s hardly trying, like Peter just assumes Harley will work it out without his help.

He can’t do it anymore. He can’t spend every night wondering if Peter will come home to him, he can’t spend every waking moment wondering when the next time he’ll get a chance to see his fiancé will be, he can’t spend forever feeling like he’s at the bottom of Peter’s priorities. He’s sick of it.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he repeats. He hates that this is where it ends, that the end comes the day before their wedding. He hates that he’s hurting so badly, that he’s hurting Peter, that despite everything, the only person he wants to turn to is Peter.

Peter opens his mouth, probably to argue, to beg, to ask for another chance, at least an opportunity to explain himself or find a solution, but instead, all that comes out is a choked cough and then his knees are buckling.

Diving forward, Harley barely manages to catch him, body limp in his grip, and lowers them to the floor, cradling Peter close to his chest.

“Fuck, you had to be hiding an injury, didn’t you?” he says, hands fluttering nervously over his body, needing to find the source of the injury. “Now I’m the bad guy, huh?”

He finds the wound, a deep cut in his side, blood soaking through his suit and sweater, and it stains Harley’s hands where he presses his discarded suit jacket against it.

With his free hand, he grabs his phone and calls Tony.

“Was Peter home? Have you two talked?” He sounds sympathetic, upset for Harley’s sake, because he was there at the practice dinner where Harley paced and paced and paced, getting more frustrated the more unanswered texts he sent to his missing fiancé.

“I’ll explain later, but he’s hurt. He passed out. Could you send a car? Meet us at the Compound?”

Tony curses under his breath and then there’s the sound of a car engine. “You need any help?”

“No, I can get him there. Just- Make sure Cho’s ready for us.”

“Be safe, kid… And I’m sorry things are tough for you both. I’m sorry this happened today.”

Harley chokes out a laugh through his tears. “I think the wedding is the least of our worries right now. I’ll see you there.”

He hangs up before Tony can offer anymore comforting words. Harley deserves to be hated, to be yelled at, for fighting with Peter without realizing he was hurt.

“C’mon, darling, we need to get you downstairs without making our landlord explode.”

He’s about to lift Peter up when he sees his silver engagement ring sparkling on the floor a few feet away. It looks so harmless, lying there on the hardwood, but it makes Harley’s chest ache and hands tremble where they hold the jacket to Peter’s side.

He grabs his ring, pressing a kiss to the cold metal, and sliding it back onto his finger, where it rightfully goes.

“I love you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I’m sorry, I love you.”

He stands up, carrying the superhero in his arms, head lolling against his shoulder, and he sets off for the car.

* “It’s not your fault.”

Harley looks up startled from where he’d been busy twisting his ring around his finger like he’s forcing himself to remember their relationship for what it was. Pepper’s standing in the doorway, Tony a few steps behind her.

“I know things get tough, trust me, I know better than most. I’ve been where you are. I married a superhero,” she says, sitting down on the other side of Peter’s bed where he’s still unconscious.

Tony leans against the wall behind her, expression soft. “I don’t know how this will turn out, but Peter’s a really good guy. He’s got a guilt complex the size of New York, and I think sometimes he forgets he isn’t responsible for everything that happens here.”

“I know that.” Harley’s voice comes out angrier than he thought it would and he crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair. “I know him. I knew what I was signing up for. I didn’t care when I was stood up or left halfway through dates, I didn’t care that he disappeared for weeks on missions with barely a goodbye, I didn’t care that I was always going to be second to Spider-Man. But he missed our practice wedding. It felt like he’d left me at the alter.”

“He wouldn’t do that.”

Pepper sighs, glancing down at Peter before focusing on Harley. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, but I think Peter would do anything for you. He’d give up Spider-Man in a heartbeat if that’s what you told him to do-”

“I’m not going to make him give up Spider-Man.”

“Of course not because you love him just as much as he loves you.”

Somehow, the simplicity of the phrase is enough to settle the decision for Harley. Pepper’s right, if he explains just how much he worries, just how much he hates feeling like he’s never going to compare to the luxuries of swinging through the streets, how much he wants to have confidence that Peter will show up whenever he’s needed like for their wedding or for date nights or for whatever promises he makes. If he explains, Peter will change. Peter will compromise. Peter will find a solution to make this better.

Peter stirs, eyes blinking open blearily, hand squeezing Harley’s.

Pepper nods confidently. “We’ll give you two some time.”

“Oh, and leave wedding re-planning to us and May this time, yeah? How do you feel about a Winter Wedding?”

“Wait, no.” Peter’s voice is rough and low, eyes barely able to stay open. His thumb is rubbing over Harley’s ring over and over again. “Wanted to marry you tomorrow.”

Harley tries to smile through the tears that fill his eyes. “I want to marry you too, honey. I just don’t think we’ll be able to get you out of a hospital bed and into a suit in time.”

He doesn’t want to say that he was having doubts just a few hours ago, that he thought he was through with their relationship not long ago.

Pepper smiles fondly at them, takes Tony’s hand, and then they leave the two boys alone.

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, squinting up at Harley with glassy eyes. “I should’ve been there. I was nervous and I thought I could get those nerves out by swinging, and I got caught up. I was never going to be late to the wedding. I wouldn’t have done that.”

“I know. I’m sorry too. I never want you to feel like you can’t be Spider-Man because of me, I never want to hold you back.” Harley sighs running his free hand through his hair. “I do want to marry you, Peter. I’m not done trying.”

Peter squeezes his hand weakly, thumb still twisting Harley’s ring. “I’d do anything for you, Harley. I hope you know that. I’d give it up for you.”

“No,” he says certainly. “We need to work on communicating, on compromising. It’s not all or nothing. I just want Sunday Breakfasts with you or Friday Night Movies or something. I want you to be there when it’s not important so I know you’ll be there when it is, too.”

“I love you.” Peter pulls Harley’s hand up to kiss the ring around his finger. “I wanna marry you. I don’t care if it’s right here in this hospital or if it’s in a park or on the moon, I wanna marry you.”

Harley grins, leaning down to kiss Peter. “I love you too, Parker. If we’re going to get married tomorrow, then we both need our beauty sleep so move over.”

Peter obliges, shifting to the side of the bed to make room for Harley, immediately curling into his warmth when he’s settled. “I love you, I’m sorry about yesterday.”

“We’re getting married, Peter. Things happen, I forgive you, we move on. As long as you’re there on time tomorrow, I think we can do anything.”  

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny  @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

Jim’s Best Friend

Part Five - Halloween Deceit

Word Count: 1458

Author’s Note: Well, the last chapter was rough. Going to post this and chapter six tonight, since they are both a little short. Enjoy!

WARNING: continued discussion of assault and domestic abuse.

Halloween, 2005.

"Downsizing?" Michael looked into the camera, pulling a face. "Yah, Jan called this morning... She's expecting a name. I have to let someone go today."

-

Halloween is always fun at Dunder Mifflin. The whole office dressed up, there's always a party hosted by Angela and a few of the girls, and even though the cobweb decorations had disappeared mysteriously overnight, the ambience of Halloween still remained.

Halloween fell on a Monday, so the usual boring start to the week was a lot more fun. Pam had stocked up her desk with candy, and had dressed in all black with cat ears and painted on whiskers. Everyone in the office had dressed up, from Michael with his second head, to Devon as a hobo, and Kevin as a superhero.

But 9 am rolled around, and Jim, dressed up as '3 hole punch Jim', couldn't help but notice that Y/N, who had never been late, wasn't at her desk. He and Pam shared a look, and she pulled out her mobile, calling Y/N's number.

Straight to voicemail.

"Maybe she's getting Halloween supplies?" Pam suggested, and Jim shrugged, glancing at Dwight in his Sith Lord costume, looking like a shrivelled prune with the makeup he had decided on.

9.15, and still no Y/N. Pam tried her phone again, and was once again met with a cheery answering machine message.

9.48. Nothing. Pam suggested they take their minds of it by pulling a major prank on Dwight, applying to jobs on his behalf.

10.34. More nothing. Pam received a call though, asking for a recommendation for Dwight Schrute, and Jim pretended to be Michael.

Jim and Pam were starting to get seriously worried when the front office door opened at 10.58, and Y/N walked through the door, in a light blue turtleneck and jeans, and with her face beaten up.

"Oh my God, Y/N." Jim ended his call and ran over quickly.

"Relax dude, it's special fx makeup." You reassured him, trying your best to believe the lie. "I thought I'd go all out this year... But then I couldn't find my Halloween costume, so I now look like... I dunno, mugged individual?" You joked, walking over to your desk, using all the energy you had not to wince as you sat down.

"That doesn't explain why you were late." Pam said from behind reception, and you held up a slip of paper.

"Doctor's appointment. I thought I had emailed you last week?" You asked, and she shook her head. But with both your friends believing the cover story, you set about work for the day, trying your best to avoid the pain in your side or the pounding in your head.

—

Come 2 pm, Jim counted that you had taken four extra strength Tylenol, and drank three full bottles of water. No coffee like usual, no unnecessary trips to talk to Pam or him, no come backs for Dwight's monologue about Star Wars.

He wasn't sure if you were just suffering from a major hangover, or if it was womanly problems or something else, but he didn't like seeing you out of it.

He was going to say something, but instead headed over to chat with Pam, the pair watching Dwight pick up the phone. The amusement was satisfying, even if temporary, listening to Dwight fight about his martial arts credits with some recruiter for Cumberland Mills.

"You know, you should be applying for that job." Pam said softly, and Jim pulled a face.

"But it's in Maryland..."

"I know, but you are so much more qualified than Dwight, plus it's double what you get paid here I mean..." Pam shrugged, smiling a little. If anyone should be getting a pay rise in the office, it was Jim. She knew it. He had more talent than half the office combined, including Michael and Dwight.

"Right." Jim said quickly, walking away from her desk and stopping only when he was called into Michael's office.

Once Jim was in the office, Pam decided to take her coffee break, and fetched a cup for Y/N too. She walked over, placing the cup beside you, noticing you filling out some paperwork with no real motivation.

"I swear, I keep looking at you and thinking the makeup is real. Wow!" Pam complimented as she sat on your desk, sipping her coffee. You smiled, taking the mug and sipping it lightly, trying your best not to disturb your busted lip. "Dinner was great fun on Friday, right?" Pam continued chatting, and you nodded weakly.

"I'm sorry Pam, I'm just not feeling great today. Is there any chance we could talk tomorrow? I've got this killer headache." You confessed, and Pam frowned a little but nodded, heading back over to her desk.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Supposedly Jim almost got fired, as did a number of others, and by the time the work day was over, Devon had been let go. The rest of the office, besides Creed and Michael, were invited for drinks with him, and all agreed, packing up and abandoning the office party Angela had planned out for them.

"You coming Y/N?" Jim asked, and you nodded slowly, gathering your things and following the crowd out but with the elevator full, you and Jim headed down the stairs. You both stayed quiet for a few moments, and you chewed on your lip out of habit.

"Can't believe Michael tried to fire Creed and gave up." You spoke up, and Jim nodded.

"It's crazy... He's lost it a little that past few months." Jim agreed, glancing over at you and promptly stopping. You stopped too, about two steps down, and looked up.

"Jim, everything ok?" You asked, and he walked closer, running his thumb across your chin and moving it back to show blood.

"Didn't know fx makeup could bleed, did you?" He asked, and your hand shot up to cover your mouth. "Jesus Christ, Y/N! Why did you even come in today?! You should be in a hospital." Jim said, clearly mad, and you took a few steps away from him. He noticed and looked into your eyes, like he was trying to find your soul.

"What happened?" He asked quietly, and you couldn't stop your lip from trembling.

"Brian..." It was the only word you could get out before you broke down in tears, falling to the stairs and sobbing uncontrollably. The entire weekend you had lay on your apartment floor, only moving to use the bathroom and grab a fresh six can pack from the fridge. You had only showered that morning because of work, your doctor's appointment. You received the good news that, while the damage was going to lead to a lot of bruising, no internal bleeding was found, no problems with organs or anything.

Jim rushed to your side, lifting you into his arms and holding you close, letting you cry it out before he even tried to move you. He picked you up bridal style, carrying you to the front door, when you insisted her out you down so as to not draw attention. Poor Richards was only a walk away, and at least a few people would have waited for the pair to join.

It turned out to be Pam and Oscar, who stood chatting by the front door.

"Hey Jim, Y/N." Oscar called, frowning as you walked towards Jim's car. Pam excused herself does a second, running over and catching up with the pair of you.

"Jim, what's up with Y/N?" Pam asked, hands in her jacket pockets to retain warmth. Jim looked over, and called back to Oscar.

"Head on without us, we've got something to do first." Jim said with a fake smile, and Oscar shrugged, walking along to Poor Richards.

"Why did you-" Pam asked, but Jim cut her off.

"It wasn't makeup Pam... Brian did that to her..." Jim said quietly, Pam's hands flying up to cover her mouth.

"Oh God..."

"I'm taking her to my place, then the police station." Jim decided, and Pam shook her head.

"Roy and I will take care of her. Drop us off at our place and you head over." She insisted, jumping in the back seat with you. "Hey sweetie, ready for a quiet Halloween night in?" Pam asked softly, and you just rested your head on her shoulder, which soon became damp with tears.

"Thank you guys." You said softly as Jim got in the car, starting the engine and heading towards Pam's place.

"What are friends for, Y/N?" He replied, and the last thing you remember was falling asleep cuddled up against Pam, the midnight blue sky twinkling with stars above through Jim's car skylight.

Hi elle, regarding your response to Max anon. I think Max is just an easy person to hate. Because he's harsh, he's just bluntly honest and he has an i dont care all attitude. He has a foul mouth, and he does things without thinking. I agree with you, that he definitely deserves a lot of the heat he receives, but to the extend that people will hate him for breathing?? i don't think so. Its important we criticise him for the bad things he's done, but i see people apologising for even posting about him, get death threats for supporting him. They don't only hate Max, they hate people who support him and I feel its all gotten out of hand, no?

He's aggressive, you're right, in both driving and during the times we can see him (i wont say off track bcs idk Max so idk how he is); but Charles is also aggressive in his driving, he's gone for a gap that's not there so many times and no one says he's a shit driver like they did Max—Of course, Charles just has to mature in his driving, evidently Max is now less rash and reckless in his driving, its something you learn over time. He's aggressive when he kicks the car, the wall, when he swears on radio when he loses a pole or his car isn't working, I agree. I hate that he is too. He swears a lot especially to GP, but GP still has a good relationship with him. Daniel has destroyed his and Max's driver's room in anger and I haven't seen any criticism for it. Drivers have told their engineers to "fucking shut up" when they're racing and no one cares. Your analogy, is terrible, forgive me, because if Max actually hits someone (im aware he's pushed Esteban) no one would say that.

And thing is, Carlos has done equally (or even more) worse and he doesn't get flamed on for every word he says. (Im talking about the chinese restaurant video) why? because he's charming and he's pretty and "he's so funny when he's when lando!!" It's easy to forgive Carlos, to say, oh it's a one off, when he clearly still supports far right wing political parties.

Infact, you dislike Kimi because he is cold and straightforward or always being blunt at his engineers. Ever wonder why that is? Is it because he's unlikeable or because he fails to meet the standard of expectation of pleasantries? Plus, this is just what the media show of him, its his persona, its the "Oh, Kimi" thing people will eat up. Are u justified to dislike it, yeah, but does that mean Kimi is a shit person? no. If anything, it shows, we as humans, are biased to our own opinions. You dislike Kimi because he's not a person you would gravitate to in general (sans the iron cross thing), evident from your rant. No one has a problem with that because u disliking one person doesn't hurt anyone. ((People hating Max, and in turn, hating people who don't hate Max, hurts other people, but thats not something i blame you for))

This is very long but I just dont like the inconsistency, i think you're free to dislike whoever you want, to not support them, to criticise the dumb shit they do (which there's a lot for Max) but you have to be consistent to everyone, no ? Im not just saying this bcs I like Max, infact, he isn't even a fav of mine, and i can easily say he can be such a piece of shit and at times is a piece of shit but its only him that gets this treatment. Maybe think about why that is.

(for anyone wondering about the context for this ask, go here) hey Anon! I’m going to be really honest with you; I’m honestly not too sure what you’re trying to tell me. you said you agree with me on the fact that Max deserves a lot of the heat he receives, but I never said that. that’s an assumption, because when you read through the answer, you can see I never said that. I do agree with you that it’s gotten way out of hand and that people shouldn’t get death threats for supporting Max, that’s just ridiculous and I agree with you on the fact that that’s gotten way out of hand.

“he’s aggressive, you’re right”, I never said that. I use the word aggressive when talking about myself, but never about Max. the anon who asked me the question did mention Max being aggressive, but I didn’t. in the whole answer I never talked about the way Max drives, because I was talking about his character. telling me that Charles drives aggressive too… what is that even referring to? I never mentioned driving. (and if you want to know, drivers driving aggressively is fine by me, most of the time they only mess with their own race by doing that, so honestly… be my guest). if Daniel destroyed his and Max’ driving rooms, then of course I don’t approve of that. but the reason you’re not seeing any criticism because of that is probably because it happened years ago. the only thing I mentioned in the answer was Max saying slurs, I didn’t even mention him pushing Esteban and the reason I mentioned Max saying slurs was because it happened half a year ago. “if Max actually hits someone (im aware he's pushed Esteban) no one would say that.” say what? I don’t know what you mean by this. “Carlos has done equally (or even more) worse and he doesn’t get flamed on for every word he says”, first of all: I think everyone should decide for themselves if Carlos has done worse or not. second of all: I’m not the only person in this fandom, am I? you’re constantly switching between ‘you’ and talking about the fandom in general, why are you shifting the blame onto me? I’m not the spokesperson for this fandom. I mentioned many, many times before that I believe my opinion does not weigh more heavily than other people’s opinions do. “Infact, you dislike Kimi because he is cold and straightforward or always being blunt at his engineers. Ever wonder why that is? Is it because he's unlikeable or because he fails to meet the standard of expectation of pleasantries?” yes, that is literally why I dislike him. because he has characteristics that I do not like in a person. “Are u justified to dislike it, yeah, but does that mean Kimi is a shit person? no.” I never said that. literally, never ever said that. I never talk about Kimi, ever. the only reason why I mentioned I didn’t like him is because somebody asked why I never post about him. somebody asked, so I gave my honest opinion. I didn’t “rant”, I literally answered a question. I’m sorry, but what you are saying doesn’t make any sense. with “the inconsistency”, what do you mean? like I said before, I literally ignore drivers that I don’t like. somebody asked me a question about Max, just like somebody asked me a question about Kimi, and I answered it in an honest way. that’s all I did. “i think you're free to dislike whoever you want, to not support them, to criticise the dumb shit they do (which there's a lot for Max) but you have to be consistent to everyone, no ?” yes Anon, I’m consistently ignoring them. and saying that I’m allowed to dislike a person and then saying you don’t like me being inconsistent while I am being consistent, doesn’t make any sense. am I only allowed to be consistent if that fits your agenda?

“your analogy is terrible, forgive me”, I forgive you Anon, because you’re allowed to think that. but maybe your interpretation of it was terrible too, cause half of the things you mention I never said, but are based on assumptions you made. maybe this sounds like I’m a bit pissed off, and that’s because I am, cause you’re putting words in my mouth that I never said, you’re judging my character wrong and I’m sorry Anon, but I really don’t appreciate that, that honestly upsets me.

you know, we should probably just leave it like this. we clearly aren’t having the same conversation. I do hope you’re having a good day!

To Do List:

What's up, my Herd of Nerds?

Anyway, as you can tell, tomorrow is AU Sunday. But, because it's one after a 'my input' one, it's a follower input AU day! Yay!

So, send me your AUs and I'll put all of em in a hat to pick one randomly. The winner is picked and posted and we'll all try and make headcanons about your AU.

Done:

Zombie Apocalypse AU :: (https://hermitcraftheadcanons.tumblr.com/post/618314308275863552/zombie-apocalypse-au-masterpost)

Pirate AU ::

Currently In The Raffle:

-Toy Story AU.

-Ever After High/Descendants/Vaguely 'nex gen priness' AU.

-Eldritch Horror AU :: Or if that's a bit too out there, a more normal Monster AU. I don't care, but in my heart, I know Cleo is some kind of eldritch horror. Zombie is far too easy.

-Eldritch Monster AU! Hermits are all Lovecraftian horrors who all individually decided that they wanted to pretend to be normal and are all trying to hide their otherworldliness. I also feel like Mumbo or X or someone as the one actually "normal" player on the server would work well. Most hermits don't know that everyone else isn't normal either, but some find out about friends maybe.

-Rabid Debate Club AU :: Random weird au idea where it's basic hs/uni au but like two of them try to start a debate club, then invite some friends just so there's enough people; cut to like two months later, it's all the hermits just fighting over whether or not pineapple should go on pizza or not lol it isn't very good i'm sorry but ya know rabid debate club AU.

-Animal/shapeshifting AU :: (Suggested Twice.) Every hermit can shapeshift into one token animal. (If it's something like "dog," they can only turn into one breed and color of dog, EXAMPLE: doc can shift into a black sable belgian malinois, but not anything else.)

-Wedding Planners AU :: Hermits work in various unrelated businesses such as a bakery, flower shop, etc., but see each other semi-often bc they're semi-often called upon to work together by another hermit's wedding planning business (obvs if you couldn't tell i know absolutely nothing abt wedding planning & businesses n shit lol but it's the /concept/ of it yannknow)

-Avatar: The Last Air Bender AU. (Suggested Thrice.)

-Fusion AU :: (Also suggested by Anon.) (Suggested Twice.) What if Hermits could fuse with each other? (Viva and Jumbo fused into MumboJumbo.)

-SCP AU :: The hermits have spooky powers and are kept locked up bc of it (or they have to keep the world safe from monsters and cursed objects!)

-RPG AU :: I feel like someone already thought of that but I am just wondering about it lately :p -🍋

-Adventure Time AU :: The hermits live in a post-apocalyptic world and the Lich (bad guy) is making everything decay. They need to gather all the gems (belt colours) to unlock the Enchiridion (a book) and have one wish each granted from Prismo (multiverse wish granting dude) before the Lich does. Only 4 elements can enter the multiverse: Slime (The Lich & Jevin), Redstone (Tango or Mumbo?), Ice (Stress), and Dirt (Grian, much to his dismay). Only the elementals can see the book. Grian's the protagonist with his sidekick Scar. He originally started collecting the belts because they were shiny but eventually decided to read the book and find out what they were for when Scar said he didn't see it. Doc, False, and Iskall are major obstacles because they don't believe the book exists.</p>

-Total Drama Island AU.

-Magical Girl AU :: Zedaph's the lead magical girl and rounds up a bunch of other magical girl hermits.

-Pokeman AU :: What are the Hermit's roles in this world? Who's the Champion, Elite Four. Are they scientists? Trainers? Do they compete in competitions, do they specialize in types? Who's everyone's starter? Has anyone encountered any legendaries?

-College AU

-High School AU

-Wizard101 AU :: I (🦊) recently got this AU idea and recently started going off somewhere with it in terms of writing, but, like, Hermitcraft meets Wizard101. Tons and tons of magical shenanigans, monster hunting, and idk what else.

-Magic AU

-My Hero Academia AU :: Headcanons can be about which hermits would have what quirks and occupations based on them.

-So I'm writing an AU where there's a second game of Demise but 5 years later. So far the first 2 hermits (Joe and Xisuma) have died, and their dead forms are cracked with an arrow in his chest (Xisuma) and cyborg (Joe). So since it's Saturday, I'm looking for what some skins would look for.

-City AU :: I mean this is really just a normal everyday AU.

-School AU.

-Terraria-Minecraft Fusion AU :: Who chooses what class? what events do each hermit prefer? how to they deal with the world infections? preferred biomes? Favourite NPCS? It has potentiallllll.

-70s/80s Teen Horror AU :: (like Stranger Things, Carreie, The Lost Boys, Halloween, etc.) -🦇

-Demi-God AU :: Sort of like percy jackson (everyone being the children of different gods from all different cultures.)

-Supernatural AU

-Marching Band AU :: Xisuma is the band major and all the show music is the remixes. I need to come up with some ideas for uniforms. Outfits and flags for the colorguard too.

-Different Eras AU :: (Suggested Twice.) All the hermits are from different time periods or eras. Like Wels is from the mediveal/dark era, Mumbo is from 1890-1920's, Iskall is from 2030, TFC is from 2020(?), Cleo is from 2130, etc!!! Like the mobs/animals became feused with humans, is when the mob players came from.

-Star Trek AU :: Like maybe they could be on one ship and each have different roles like engineers or doctors? I don’t know if this has been suggested but hope you enjoy! - 🐦

-House Mates AU :: ApartmentAU but scaled down?

-Atlantis AU :: (Could be merged with Mermaid AU???)

-Fighting Game AU :: Some influences would be Street Fighter, Mortal Kombat, and Ultra Instinct, that kind of stuff.

-Time loop AU :: The hermits each have to deal with their own time loop.

(All those above in red are from our community's lovely Anons!)

-Superhero/superpower AU :: They each have a unique power/powerset that is in some way connected to their personality. (ie Mumbo *could* control electricity because of his love of redstone) Some Hermits may even choose to be "villains" and prank their other servermates. If you need power ideas, I've got a couple. (12u3ie)

-Daycare AU :: The recap peeps are the caretakers :P (-@tikauniverse.)

-Incredibly Long Cross Country Train Ride AU :: they all are in the same train car, telling stories of where they’re going, backstories.)

-Stuck In An Airport AU :: pretty similar to train au but they can be going diff places.

-Doctors AU :: they’re all doctors working at the same hospital.)

-Circus AU (Also suggested by an Anon.) (Suggested Twice.)

-Spy AU (Also suggested by @shadeswiftdraws.) (Suggested Twice.)

-Runaways AU :: The hermits are all teenagers who have run away from home, they all live on the streets until TFC takes them in. Head canons can be about backstories, living on the streets, or when they’re with TFC.

-Criminals and Police Officers AU

(-@lookitsspacekween)

-Dancer AU :: I mean, I already got a list kind of planned out, but headcanons for why specific styles are chosen would be appreciated! :) (usedtobelucythefallenangel)

-Broadway/Musicals Hermits AU :: The hermits are all casts of various musicals and when this newly-built theater opens up they all fight for which musical gets to play in it first (they have a riff-off maybe?) musicals mainly included are Hamilton, BMC, DEH, SiX, Beetlejuice, etc (feel free to add more!) (-@heyitsroby.)

-DnD AU (Also suggested by Anon.) (Suggested twice.)

-Mermaid AU :: In honor of the end of Mermay

-Space exploration AU :: There could be different ships, command centers, aliens.... Maybe someone could even get stranded/crash on a new planet? Who knows, could be fun.

-Paranormal/ghost hunter AU :: A couple Hermits could be the ghost hunters going to haunted locations to prove/disprove their hauntedness, others could be camera crew, owners of haunted buildings, or even the ghosts themselves.

-Camping/Vacation AU.

-Summer Cottage AU :: They all spend summers/weekends along the same shoreline and do different summer activities together. Outdoor fun and shenanigans!

-Space AU :: like star trek or similar.

-I would say evil clone au but I think that's pretty much the entire Hermitcraft tumblr right now lol. (Suggested twice.)

(-@shadeswiftdraws.)

-Magic AU :: Magic exists and all the hermits have powers. They can also summon a weapon but what that weapon is depends on the hermit. I'm thinking it'll take place in a sort-of Demise 2 in S7 with a big war. So far I've got: Grian - Cloning himself to his different personas (each has a different power). Xisuma - Making barriers, teleporting, and transforming into different mobs. Scar - Making mutant plants & boosting other hermits' attack & health. (-@datsaltyperson.)

-Demon AU :: Something enters the overworld and turns into a supernatural style-demon through Dimentional Distortion. Who gets posessed first, who goes crazy, and who actually kills it? Honestly I think that, if anything, Tango would know how to gank it, for obvious reasons. (-@fireflower-dusk.)

-High Street AU :: Everyone owns a different shop on the same street or some run a shop together (-@violets-arepurple.)

-Cat AU :: Either they're were always cats, or Hels turned everyone, including himself, into a cat, and they have to survive and overcome challenges in the Season 7 world. An example of a challenge would be Cub's a Sand Cat(the cats that always look like kittens no matter how old they are and live in deserts), and everyone's not sure if he can actually swim, so they have to find a way for him to get around without involving water. (-@scp10000.)

-How about a secret AU.. Every hermit has their big secrets and when Grian joined. He doesn't really know anything about those secrets even till season 7. Not many hermits talked to him in S6 anyway.. Mumbo was the closest to him so they would have regular chats For Iskall is mostly business related things Grian wants to know why so he set out on a quest to force the others to at least talk to him so he wouldn't be lonely. (-@babylightstudentbiscuit.)

-Hermit Family AU :: Xisuma is very busy dad but when he isnt busy the kids and younger hermits annoying the hell out of him. Grian once asked to use Xisuma's computer and crashed the whole thing trying to download illegal gamesites and get money off the internet. Mumbo and his trains run through the entire house and Xisuma trips on them daily. (-@gamerutx.)

-College AU!! But they are not students. THEY ARE THE TEACHERS (-@ivi-prism.)

Ones I planned to do anyway but Hermitblr Hivemind and all that:

Battle of The Bands AU: i believe u once mentioned a bands/ battle of the bands au... thats my jam... (Anon.)

Secret Voight (Jay Halstead) S2 Part 1

Summary: The team finally knows that Y/N is Voight's daughter. One secret is out but theres still one secret that's not out. Y/N and Jay's relationship. Will that stay a secret or not? I mean Voight always finds out about things, right? Season two of Secret Voight starts now.

Words: 3179

Requested: yes

Prompts:

Warning or A/N: I'm so sorry it took so long! Been busy with work. But I'm working on part 2 as I'm posting this!

I stood there with my arms crossed looking at my half brother, unimpressed. The only thing that has changed about him from the last time I saw him was his height. "Y/N! Come on!"

    You looked away from him, trying to figure out what to say before you looked back at him. "Come on, nothing. I'm not feeding into your habit,"

    Justin looked at you as if you had slapped him. "Fine, whatever. You had never helped me and didn't care about me. You only cared about impressing dad and that why you got applied to be on Intelligence,"

     You just sat there looking at him like he was the dumbest person on the planet. "Justin, you can try to guilt me all you want but I'm not gonna change my mind,"

     He huffs and walked away but stop midway to whoever's car was parked behind him. "You know, you're just like dad,"

    Your dad may do some shady things but he is loyal. You rolled your eyes and walked to your car and got into it and screamed out in frustration. When you met Justin, he was alread to lost and you were never clicked with him as you were 'too much' like your father. Him and Voight didn't have a great relationship. You tried to help him over and over, gave him hundreds of dollars but he would blow them on stupid things and you had enough of it. You didn't know what he wanted this time but the way he looked and acted it wasnt anything good. You sighed and drove to 21st.

     You walked into Intelligence and you saw Jay start to walk up to you, which you walked past him and to your father's office. His door was open, so you just walked into his office but shut the door. "You need to do something with Justin before he gets killed,"

     Your father swirls around looked at you. "Not even a good morning?"

     You rolled your eyes. "Good morning. You need to do something with Justin befoe he gets killed,"

     Voight puts his hands together and just  looked at you. You rolled your eyes. "He called me last night after. Did you know he got out early?"

     Voight shook his head. "No. What did he want and when did he get out?"

    "Like a month ago, he asked to meet up. The when we did asked me for money and dad, he doesn't look good,"

      Voight just nodded and sighed. "Theres nothing anyone can do. I've tried. You've tried. Everyone has tried. Jail obviously didn't do anything,"

    You were about to say something but Voight stopped you. "Dont worry about him. We got a case,"

   You sighed in defeat, he walked to the door and opened it for you. You just looked at him for a minute before walking out and over to your desk. Voight walked to the middle of the room. "All right, there are two unrelated wire investigations. Surveillance followed three of area central's top-ranking gang targets to this house on Carpenter. Narcotics hasn't gotten anywhere with it, so command staff wants Intelligence on it. Roll out in five,"

    Voight took a look around the room before coming downstairs. You grabbed your gun and badge from your desk and started to walk downstairs when Jay walked next to you. "Everything go okay with Justin?"

    You didn't answer him and kept walking. Jay whistled. "I take that as a no,"

    "You have that right,"

   You got into Jay's passenger seat as he climbed into the driver's seat. You looked around to see if anyone was near the truck and no one was there. You leaned over to Jay and turned his head to face you and kissed him. He smiled within the kiss and placed his hand on your cheek. You pulled away after a fee seconds and looked at him. "Sorry, just wedded that,"

     Jay shook his head and chuckled. "No need to apologize babe. It's always welcomed,"

    You smiled as Jay turned on his truck.

    ----

    You put the walkie up to your mouth and called the team. "We got the main eye," 

    Voight came through next. "We're set up to the north. We got the south and a partial of the alley. If anyone goes mobile from the house, we're in position for a take-away. Oh and Ruzek, move closer. See if there's any movement in the house,"

     At the same time I saw a someone walk up, Jay did too and he called it in. "Hold up. We got company,"

    The guy started to pull something out and you noticed it was a gun before you could call it in, Atwater called it in. "Gun!"

    We quickly got of the car and as soon as he did we were under attack. I don't know how lmany there were or how long it took, all I know was it was silent as it the gunfire crease. We walked into the house and started to clear the house. "Clear!"

    You and Jay walked into the last room. "Police! Clear!"

    You saw someone dead on the floor and other one that was alive. You took notice of the rest of the team coming in minus Ruzek and Atwater. "Hoodie's dead. This one's alive,"

     You looked at Jay as you put the walkie to your lips once again. "Charlie 50-21, emergency,"

    Voight looked at you like you were crazy. "What? He's gonna bleed out. We gotta put pressure on the wound,"

     You pressed your finger back down on the walkie. "Shots fired by the police. Offender down,"

      You heard Atwater call you guys into a room and when you got in there, you see specialize specialized ammunition "Cop killers,"

     Ruzek stood up and was looking at something. "Hey, look at this,"

    You walked over to him. "What do you got?"

      "Insulin,"

     "Somebody was a diabetic?"

     "Or not. Is there a black market for this stuff?"

     Jay walked up to us and grabbed the Insulin. "None that I've heard of. But you know what? It's a good place to hide a bullet, though. Nice work,"

    -----

    You walked up to the board and tapped two pictures on it and then turned to face the team. "This is Edward Jelko, the deceased street-level dealer. This is Peter Thomas Banfill, the offender, currently baking in a coma over at County. Jelko probably thought like we did that Banfill was sitting on something big, went over there to rip him off,"

     Antonio walked up to the board and pinned more pictures on the board. "These are M995s, teflon-tipped, kevlar-penetrating rounds. Ballistics has them linked to several recent homicides. And we found 100 of these at the scene. It's for type R insulin, which is a Canadian designation and with any luck, our little surprise visit got the gun runners scrambling, which means they're gonna make mistakes, okay?"

     Voight nodded and looked at all us. "Eyes open,"

   ---

   You were typing on your computer, corssrefercing things when Antonio comes back in after going out and talking to his C.I. "Hey! I found the source of the Insulin. A company near Toronto named Markham Medical Supply their sales rep makes a run here every other Thursday. He left at 5:00 this morning,"

     You stood up from your chair and walked over to Antonio. "I'm guessing they have tracking numbers on all their products?"

     Antonio looked at you. "Yep,"

    Voight walked over to you two and nodded. "All right, get those tracking numbers, locate him on GP, and- you already did that,"

    Antonio smiled. "Yep, Atwater and Burgess are en route tracking the signal,"    

    You held out your fist for Antonio to fist bump it and he does. "Nice,"

    --

   You were walking to the car to where Burgess and Atwater said they found a body. "This is definitely our sales rep. George Wilenko, 41. He's been with Markham Medical for 17 years. No record, fully bonded, has border clearance. This guy's not your typical smuggler,"

     Al pointed at a cup. "You notice the cup?"

    You looked over at the cup and saw a lipstick stain. "Lipstick on the lid,"

    Jay and you had picked up the wife and had her in the break room after telling her, her husband was found dead. "My mother always called it Murder City but the first time we visited, I fell in love with Chicago. The lake, the river walk. George and I went to the top of the Willis tower. God, I just I can't believe it. Why would someone kill my husband?"

    Jay sighed and looked at her. "We think that he was smuggling guns into the country,"

   The wife looked at us like we were beyond mental. "George?"

    You nodded. "He wasn't killed over Insulin. And on his last trip here, we think his vehicle was filled with these,"

    You pointed over at Jay and Jay sat a bullet down on the sink. The wife looked like she was gonna faint. "I'm hallucinating. This isn't happening,"

     "Five people have already been killed by them,"

     The wife wasnt believing anything we said. "Look, you don't get it. George would never do that ever,"

     "How often did you make the trip down with him?"

      "Every couple of months. We always stay at the Sofitel. I shop. That's why he dropped me off. They don't have Bloomingdale's in Canada,"

      You and Jay share a knowing look.

     --

     You and Jay were at Jay's desk, checking out the story that the wife told us wien Antonio comes back into Intellegnce. We got somethin'. These are our bullets. Can you believe the velocity of these things? Forensics traced one round that went through the TV, through the wall, ended up halfway through the engine block of an ice cream truck parked across the street,"

      Voight nodded. "Seven homicides and counting,"

     While you were listening to them, Jay was still digging. Our widow's lying. Her cell phone provider said she was never at Bloomingdale's. She spent the afternoon up in Edgewater,"

          You and Jay walked back into the break room where she was sitting with the door closed. "We're gonna get real honest real quick. Do you recognize these men?"

       Jay laid down the photos of the victim of the cop killer bullets. "Oh, my,"

     You were getting fed up with her. "Yeah, neither can we. His face was shot off by the bullets you and your husband brought into Chicago. You lied to us. You weren't browsing Bloomingdale's. You were in Edgewater. You and your husband had a nice run, right? You start off with something simple like x or kush, and you got greedy, and you upgraded to gun-running. You got George killed, which makes you an accessory to his murder,"

      Jay took a step in front of you at this point. "Y/N,"

     You just looked at him but moved so he wasn't in the way anymore. "So we're gonna try this again, only this time the truth,"

     She sat down andsighed. "I was visiting a friend. - An ex-boyfriend,"

     You rolled your eyes. "If you're gonna lie, put some effort into it for me,"

     The wife gave me the I'm not lying look.   "Call him. He'll tell you,"

     Jay placed a pen and a piece of paper on the table and pointed at it. "Name, number. I want you to take me through your entire day, every stop you made, every person you talked to, everything you did,"

       "I already told you,"

      You out your hands on the table. "Tell me again,"

    She nodded. "We were on the road by 4:30. Didn't stop till we crossed the border just past Ann Arbor. Got some coffee, some gas. Used the washroom. George got a phone call from our nephew-"

     You stopped her there. "Who's the nephew?"

     "He lives here. He likes to meet up with George Oh, God, Mikey doesn't know," 

    You look at her. "Does Mikey have a last name?"

     She nodded.

    *

     Jay walked up to the board and tapped a picture up as you pointed at it. "Michael Ganz, lives in East Garfield Park, has a record: robbery, possession. Runs with a small crew,"

     Jay nodded. "Claire's ex-boyfriend checks out right down to the five hundred bucks,"

     The tech analysts came in and stands in the middle of the room. "Got a ping on Ganz's phone, pulled all the numbers he's called in the last 24 hours. All the calls were to the same numbers, a cell phone registered to a Lucky M Pawn and Loan - in Gage Park,"

     Al pointed at the tech person. "Lucky M. I know that ding-dong,"  

     Antonio nodded. "We'll go talk to him. Come on,"

     ----

     Jay left to do something in which he didn't tell you what so you left to go and grab a cup of good coffee. You were coming out of the shop when you saw Justin across the street trading money for something. You placed your coffe cup on your car and walk over to where Justin was. Justin didn't see you til the moment you reached over and grabbed what was in his hand. It was drugs. You gave me a dirty looked before crushing them into dust and throwing them into the dumpster next to you. "Y/N! What the hell?"

      You didnt even acknowledged him and started to walk away but he grabbed your arm. You instantly reached over with your free hand and punched him in the face. "Don't ever grab me like that,"

      Justin recovers fast as he walked up to you. "Dont throw away something that isn't yours,"

     You resisted the urge to strike him again. "Is that why you wanted to borrow money? To buy drugs?"

    Justin didn't answer you. You pursed your lips together. "Thought so. You just got out of jail, Justin. Do you want to go back?"

     Justin looked at you quickly. "Are you gonna arrest me?"

    You shook your head. "With what evidence? I just destroy it. So no, I'm not but the next thing I see you buying or using any type of illegal substances, I will. Now get out of here,"

    Justin takes one last look at you before walking away. You sighed as your phone started to ring. You reached into your pocket and answered it. "Voight,"

    ----

    You, Burgess, Atwatter, Voight, the IT person were sitting in the surveillance van after Al got into a car with the suspect. He was calling out directions when his phone got tossed out the window. It was a few minutes after his phone got tossed when they finally stopped. Now we are just waiting for the takedown word. "It's just like Christmas morning,"

     That was it, you all jump out of the car and move into the bulding. "Police!"

     You and Jay walked around the bulding as you see two people hiding southwest, you called it out to Burgess and Atwater.

    ---

    You sighed as you finished up the paperwork from the case and placed it in a file on your desk. Jay had already left and so did the rest of the team besides Voight. You get up from your desk and grabbed your jacket. You walked over to Voight's office and knocked. Voight turned and looked at you. "I'm headed home,"

     Voight nodded. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow. I love you,"

    You nodded and said I love you too.

   ---

    You walked up to the door and knocked. It was a few seconds befor you heard feet shuffle to the door, you smiled as your grandmother opened the door. "Its late. Everything okay?"

    You nodded. "Yeah, I just wanted to come over and I know it's late but I missed you,"

     Your grandmother pulled you into the house and then into a hug. She led you into her kitchen where you sat in a chair at the table. She walked over to the coffee pot and turned it on. "How's your father?"

     You shrugged. "Same as ever. Jobs going good as well,"

     You two didnt say anything else until the coffee was done. She grabbed the pot and a cup. She poured some of the coffee into the cup and sat down. "Are you gonna tell me what's bothering you or am I gonna have to guess?"

    You sighed and took a sip of your coffee. "Justin is out of jail,"

    She gives you a look, you give her the same one back. "Yeah, I know. Early release. Today, I caught him buying drugs and instead of arresting him. I destroyed the drug and gave him a choice. I know what I was wrong but he's my half brother. I cant let him drown,"

      She sits her coffee down on the table and looked at me. "You have a big heart but sometime you gotta let people fall,"

     "Its hard grandma,"

    "I know but in the long run itll be better for everyone,"

    ---

    You wake up to your phone going off, you groaned and rolled over and you saw that it was a text from Justin.

    From: Justin

    Thanks for not ratting me out. Dad set up a dinner, you're coming.

     You sighed and texted him back.

     To: Justin

     What if I have plans?"

     From: Justin

     Cancel them.

    **

     You looked at Justin and then at Voight at the table and sighed. You didnt want to be here, you rather be laying in bed wrapped up in Jay's arms. "So this guy comes across the yard. He's all skeezed out on crystal or something and he says, he says, chicken pot pie. Like I'm supposed to know what that is, right? So my boy looks at him, points back at the block and he says, that way. Did not matter what this cat was on. He just doubles back to where he came from lickety-split, you know what I'm saying?"

    You pursed your lips together as Voight looked at his son. "Hey, J, listen, I got some news. Um I had to pull some strings, but I got you in at the CTA,"

     "That's where that's where city workers send their loser relatives,"

      Justin looked at you for help but you shrugged. "It's a job. And it'll help you get back on your feet,"

     He gives you a look which you ignored. "You know you sound more and more like him every day, right?"

    You rolled your eyes. "You start Monday,"

    "Okay, pop, sure,"

    Voight's phone started to ring and he gets up to take it. "Excuse me, I gotta take this,"

     You and Justin didn't talk while he was gone.  He comes back and placed money on the table for the check and looked at you. "We gotta roll,"

For the holiday prompts- I love cheesy fluffy Hallmark Xmas movies, so one of these but insert Malex? Maybe Alex is a famous singer who is alone at Xmas cause his family sucks and the only people he surrounds himself with are people who work for him. Of course he's lacking the Xmas spirit cause he doesn't usually do holidays. He stumbles into (or gets stranded in) a small town and meets Michael. They fall in love and now Alex has this found family and is reminded of what's really important !!

I’ll Be Home For ChristmasMichael/Alex, Hallmark AU“What do you mean I can’tbring it in? The engine is rattling!” Alex protests. He’d taken the phone fromhis assistant when clearly no progress was being made. “I rented it from you, Ineed a new one!” The agency tells him that they’re very sorry, but being thatit’s the holidays, they have no other cars available. 

The best they could do was to send him to the auto repair shop in town and promiseto reimburse him when he returned it. When Alex Manes had made it big on the music scene, he thought he’d be donewith these types of situations, but here he is, as frustrated as ever. He’s notsure who he wants to blame here, but he’s pretty sure this one comes back tohim. He’s the one who’d wanted to spend Christmas in Roswell after his fatherand brothers had waved him off, too busy with their own plans to have Alex forthe holidays.Instead, he’d come to a place that held old memories.He hasn’t been here in years, but when his mother had still been alive, thishad been her absolutely favorite place, and it’s why Alex had wanted tobe here. If he’s going to survive the stupid holiday season, he might as welltry relaxing somewhere that his mother used to love – not that he enjoysChristmas, because in the Manes family, it’s just another holiday where yourfamily lets you down.“Find me the auto repair shop,” he directs his assistant, hanging up the phoneand pinching the bridge of his nose. She nods frantically and takes his cell from him. “Yes, sir, but um…”Alex narrows his eyes. “What?”“It’s just, it’s the twenty-first?”Alex stares at her, not sure where she’s going with this, but he’s not about tointerrupt. He waits and stares at his young assistant.“You said that I could head out today to start the drive back, so I could spendChristmas with my family. Because it’s really important to me,” she says,starting to look nervous. “I can find you all the information you need, but ifI don’t get going soon, I’m not going to be able to make the drive up to SantaFe to catch my flight. I…um…” she’s near to babbling and looks close to tears,as if Alex is that much of a grinch that he’d prevent her from spending timewith her family.Shit, he’s not that bad, is he?

He knows that he’d struck it big a few years ago with some of his solo stuff,but he’s tried as best as he can to keep grounded. Maybe it’s just that hedoesn’t get the point of these holidays and it reflects in hismanagement style. They don’t decorate his house or his trailer, no one isallowed to suggest Christmas songs for Alex to cover, and his team getsbonuses, but they’re not Christmas gifts.“Yeah, of course,” Alex agrees, hurrying to make sure he doesn’t sound like anasshole. “I can take care of the car. Just give me the information and I’lltake care of it. Small town like this, there’s nothing else to do, right?”She looks almost relieved enough to cry, which kind of makes Alex feel like anasshole, because is he really that much of a bad boss that his staff thinksthat he’d deny them going home to their families for the holidays, just becausehe doesn’t see the point of celebrating with his own?“Just tell me where I’m going,” Alex says.The last thing Alex is expecting is to be told to go to a junkyard lot,but here he is. He’s adjusting his leather jacket and sliding his sunglasses upto the top of his head, watching the whole town flock to the Christmas treemarket that Roswell hosts once a year while Alex stands there beside his rentalcar, keys in hand, wondering who the hell here is supposed to look at his car.“Excuse me?” Alex calls to the man in a Santa hat, working near the cash. He’scounting bills and swaying a little to the music that’s playing over theloudspeakers nearby. It’s blaring out, drowning out the sound of thetownspeople milling around. Alex reaches out to touch the man’s shoulder,trying to get his attention. “Are you the owner?”When the man turns, Alex swallows with an audible click.“Yeah!” says the most handsome guy Alex has seen in ages. Under the Santa hat, goldenhoney curls spill out like they can’t be contained, and when he grins, his eyesactually look like they sparkle in the lights. “Hey, hold on, you gotta just…”He closes his eyes. “Can’t miss my favorite part here.”Alex is so confused, but then the guy croons along to the music playing overhim.“Baby, all I want for Christmas,” he sings, loud and not off-key, butdefinitely not with any talent that would make him famous. He opens his eyesand points to Alex, hands over his heart as he draws out, “is you.” Alex rolls his eyes, which is the normal human reaction to that, but he alsocan’t help being somewhat charmed.“And all I want is my rental car fixed,” Alex retorts, jangling the keys.“Well, that’s me,” he says. “Michael Evans,” he says, reaching out to shake hishand. “Certified mechanic, temporary tree-lot runner, and mediocre singer.”After he shakes Alex’s hands, he takes the keys. “What’s wrong with it?”Alex gives a bewildered shrug, because if he knew, he’d try and fix it himself.“I don’t know. It’s rattling?” Michael looks him over like he’s debating what he’s about to say. He looks overhis shoulder to the other people manning the cash booth (a couple of women anda guy), then back at Alex. “Okay. Give me the keys. I can look at it during afew breaks, but it means it’s not gonna get done soon. You going to be okay ifyou stick around?”What other choice does Alex have? Beyond that, what else had he been planningto do?In order to go see his mother’s old haunts, he’d need to get a taxi and this feelslike the kind of personal thing that he wants to do on his own.“Fine,” Alex says, waving a hand to let him have the car. “I guess I’ll just…”He turns and stares at the trees, hears the holiday music, and looks at all thepeople decked up in red and green. It’s like the holiday spirit puked on thearea around him, but if this is what he needs to tolerate to get his car fixedby the town’s handsome mechanic, he can deal. By the time he turns around, Michael’s gone, but the women at the cash are eyeinghim with a speculative eye, which means Alex has probably been clocked. Heheads into the trees to get lost before this ends up an autograph session,winding his way around and finding a bench near a trailer near the back of thelot. He digs out his phone to text Kyle about where he is and the updates on hissituation, scrolling through texts and emails to pass the time. He doesn’t evennotice that most people have left with their trees because he’s started tolisten to some demos to give them approval, taking advantage of the time to gothrough them. It must be hours before the car is done, but Alex doesn’t actually notice thetime passing. The tree lot isn’t the worst place to spend an afternoon,especially in a quaint and quiet town like Roswell. Michael comes to get him eventually. “Hey!” he calls over to him, wiping offhis hands. He has to duck through the trees so he can hold out the keys to him.He’s still wearing the Santa hat, but his shirt bears a few new grease stainsnow. “Thanks for waiting. I know this place can be a bit much,” he admits. Alex stands, prying the air pods out of his ears. The sun’s gone down, so thejunkyard is illuminated by twinkling lights and the stars above cutting throughthe light pollution, and Alex’s instincts are to complain that he shouldn’thave to wait around like this, but on the other hand, what else is he supposedto do in Roswell?“You’re Alex Manes, aren’t you?” Michael says, handing over the invoice for therental company. “Sorry I probably ruined your eardrums earlier,” he jokes. “it wasn’t so bad,” Alex admits, standing and taking the invoice from him. He’sstill just as handsome now – maybe even more, because he tugs off the hat andhis curls spill loose with it. The soft twinkling lights highlight the anglesof his face and the softness of his lips and god, Alex wants to kiss him morethan he’s wanted to kiss anyone in recent memory. “So uh,” he manages, findinghis voice. “I’m new in town. What’s a guy do to entertain himself in Roswell?”“Well,” Michael says. “If you’re okay with waiting ten more minutes, you couldcome to dinner with me and my family?”That’s way more than Alex had been anticipating. “I…”“You’re not intruding. They’ve been curious about you since you turned up,”Michael says, and Alex’s mind flashes back to the people at the desk staring athim. “Besides, Liz’s family owns the local diner and you can’t leave Roswellwithout a meal at the Crashdown. You should come, have dinner with us. That, orI’m gonna bring it back to your hotel, but one way or another, we’re gettingyou to try it,” he warns.Alex laughs in protest. “Okay! Okay, I’ll come to dinner with you.”Michael’s smile is as beautiful as the rest of him; so is the way he breathesin and then holds it, like he’s trying to hold onto a little hope, before helets it out. “You won’t regret it.”Alex absolutely doesn’t. That one dinner turns into lunch the next day, then it becomes Alex hangingaround the junkyard with his guitar, singing his half-written songs whileMichael works on cars. With the tree lot packed up, it’s back to normal, butMichael keeps up the lights and the sound system still plays carols. “Myparents and siblings love Christmas,” he’d explained with a warm grin. “I loveit too.”“I don’t get it,” Alex admits, “The holiday spirit. I guess because my motherdied when I was so little and my father’s not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.Half the time, he wasn’t even there because he or my brothers were out of thecountry on a mission. For me, Christmas was just another week that I didn’thave a family.”“That’s really sad, you know,” Michael says, and pries his guitar back fromAlex. He sits in the back of his pickup and nods to him. “Come on, you can’thate it so much that you won’t at least sing along,” he coaxes, playing theopening chords of Winter Wonderland, and when Michael gets to, “a beautifulsight,” he winks at Alex, which makes him flush.He ducks his head down and sings with Michael, listening to how their voicesharmonize together and sound so right. It all feels right. It feels perfect. At least, right up until the moment Alex’s other life comes into town and burnsit to shreds.Alex is starting to love his lunches at the Crashdown. He’s made friends ofMichael’s friends and by now he’s in tight with his family, and they’ve alltaken him on as a project, sympathetic to the fact that he’s alone onChristmas. He drinks at the Wild Pony every night, then meets Michael forbrunch before he goes to work. Liz makes sure he’s well fed, Maria keeps himdrinking, and Michael and his siblings occupy his time with holiday parties andchores. Right now, he’s in the middle of helping Isobel stuff Christmas cards when hehears a familiar voice.“Holy shit, you weren’t joking about this place being a hellhole.”Kyle Valenti, as loud as ever. Alex tenses up when he sees the hurt onMichael’s face. He rushes out to meet his manager at the door, giving him awarning look even as Kyle pulls him into a hug. He’d said those things when Alexhad first come into town – trust Kyle to repeat them now, after Alex has had acomplete change of heart.“Outside?”“Nah, I’m starved,” Kyle says, pushing past Alex. “Besides, we’re not gonna behere long, so let’s grab some lunch and talk.” Alex tenses up, but he leads Kyle to the only other open booth, which is theone beside Isobel and the others. He’s not facing Michael, which is for thebest, because he doesn’t want to see his face after that first insult. It doesn’t get better.Kyle’s as direct as ever. “So listen, we got a flight to Bora Bora,” he says,once lunch is delivered and he’s in the middle of eating fries like it’s hisjob. “The rest of us figured that it’d be shitty for you to sit here in Roswelland sulk in some stupid town…”“Kyle,” Alex warns.“And since you don’t do the holidays, it’s perfect. The resort doesn’t go infor the festivities, so it can be an Alex Manes special. Get drunk, find a hotguy to sleep with, and then back on tour in the new year.” Usually, any other year, he’d be eager to hop on a plane and do exactly asKyle’s listed. Kyle’s not wrong, that is what he excels at, but somehow thisyear is different. Staring at Michael’s curls in the booth over, he knows why,even if he doesn’t want to say it out loud. “Anyway,” Kyle says, finishing with the burger and laying down a few bills topay for his lunch. “The tickets are back at the hotel for you, okay? I’ll seeyou at the airport and then we’re Bora Bora bound,” he says with an excitedsmile, squeezing Alex’s shoulder as he bounds out, unaware of the damage he’scaused in the course of a thirty-minute lunch. Alex slowly stands, heading back to join the others, but when he gets there, itlooks like Michael is on his way out. “I…wait…”It doesn’t help. “You’re leaving, huh?” Michael says as Alex settles. “I get it. Why would youwant to spend the holidays in a stupid little town like Roswell when you couldbe off living the rock star life with drugs and sex in some tropicaldestination.” He hasn’t looked up at him, won’t meet Alex’s eye. “Shit, BoraBora, if I had that kind of money, I’d go too.”“Michael…”Michael digs into his pockets for crumpled bills to pay for his meal. It hitshim, belatedly, that it’s Christmas Eve. He’d spent so much of his life tryingto ignore the holiday and the one year he finds something he wants, reallywants, and he’s losing it because of his life outside of this town.“I get it,” Michael cuts him off. “We’re just a town you pass through, right?It was never going to be anything.” He stares at his boots, shaking his head,like he’s talking to himself. “It was never gonna be anything,” he repeats, andbefore Alex can protest, he’s gone.In the hotel nearby, Kyle’s waiting for him to pick up the tickets and leave. Tomorrow,this whole town will go have dinner with their families and curl up by thefireplace exchanging gifts. They’ll kiss under the mistletoe and drink spikedegg nog, and they’ll be happy in a way that Alex is only starting torealize he wants.He wants it. It’s not just the holiday spirit and that warmth.He wants Michael. He wants the man who’s sat with him at every meal at theCrashdown. He wants the man who tells the dirtiest jokes to get Alex to laugh asloud as possible. He wants Michael, who drinks with him at the Pony and thendances badly to the Christmas music Maria puts on, who wears reindeer antlersat the junkyard while he’s fixing cars, who plays the guitar while Alex singsfor him. He wants him and maybe he’s starting to understand the Christmasspirit, because he wants to shower him in love and gifts and kisses, butMichael thinks he’s about to leave to go to Bora Bora.“Hey,” Alex says, glancing over to Isobel, who looks at him cautiously -- likeshe’s deciding how cruel to be in return for Alex’s insults about the town. “Doyou have a guitar I can borrow?”His equipment is back in Los Angeles and if he wants this surprise to actuallybe a surprise, he can’t walk up to Michael and ask him for his. When Isobeldoesn’t answer, he figures that she’s trying to freeze him out, but Alexdoesn’t have time for it.  It’s Christmas Eve, he only has so long to prove to Michael that he’s not theman that the world wants him to be, especially not right now.“Please, Isobel,” Alex begs. “I need to win him back.”That seems to do the trick. “If that’s the case, Maria can help,” Isobelsuggests. “The Pony’s always got music nights, and if it’s to win over Michael,then I think she’ll be okay loaning it out.”“Thank you,” Alex exhales in a rush, kissing her hand before he bolts to thePony to get what he needs. He has to show Michael that he’s not Alex Manes,rock star. Right now, he’s just Alex Manes, who’s a guy wanting to prove thatthere’s more for him here than there is on some island.By the time he gets to the junkyard, it’s started to snow. Big heavy flakesfrom the sky obscuring the stars, but it gives the world a glow, especiallywith the junkyard lights. Alex can see that the lights are on inside theAirstream and Alex heads over, standing under the twinkling lights a few feetfrom the door. He’s performed in front of thousands of people before, and yet he’s never feltas nervous as he does right now. “I don’t want a lot for Christmas,” he begins without the guitar, adding in thechords after, and playing as he sings. It’s the first holiday song he’s evercovered that wasn’t with Michael playing guitar for him, but when the Airstreamdoor opens and Michael steps out, Alex knows it’s the most important song he’sever sung in his life.Michael looks stunned to see him, but he steps down into the snow. He’s onlywearing a cream sweater and a pair of sweatpants, no jacket to speak of. Thesnow lands in his curls, dissolving as he gapes at Alex, open-mouthed. The cover he’s doing is slow and sweet, but the only thing that matters is thechorus to Michael’s favorite song. “Baby,” he sings, barely more than a softplea, “all I want for Christmas is you.” He doesn’t sing anything beyond that,cautiously putting the guitar down as he approaches Michael. He waits for a signal to stop.Alex looks for a twitch or a flinch. He looks for a single sound that wouldtell him that Michael doesn’t want this, but by the time Alex crosses the fivesteps separating them, he hasn’t seen a single one, which is why he feelsconfident grabbing Michael’s face with both his hands and kissing him under thetwinkling lights, snowflakes cascading towards the ground.He’s on the tips of his toes, like he’s desperately eager to make this kisslast as long as it possibly can, tangling his fingers up in Michael’s curls theway he’s thought about since the moment he met him days ago, and when he easesback, he’s still nervous despite the fact that Michael’s hand is tangled up inAlex’s leather jacket, like he’s going to refuse to let him go.“You’re an idiot,” Michael laughs fondly when they finally drift apart. “You’rechoosing me over Bora Bora? You don’t even like Christmas. You don’t even knowme!”He’s still not letting go.“This is the first time I’ve felt like I had a home or a family in years,” Alexgets out, his voice low and determined. “You’re the first person I’vefelt like myself around in ages. I think I’m figuring out that it’s not that Idon’t like Christmas, but I’ve never had someone to show me how good it can be.Fuck Bora Bora,” he swears. “I mean it. Michael, all I want for Christmas isyou, if you’ll have me.”Michael grins at him and Alex’s breath catches as he sees the lights reflectedin Michael’s eyes. “I’ve been dreaming of having you in about ten different ways,” Michael informshim, tugging Alex towards the Airstream as he wanders idly backwards. “I neverthought I’d get what I asked Santa for Christmas,” he jokes. “Maybe you’ve been a nice boy this year,” Alex suggests, traipsing after himwith a wide-eyed besotted look.Michael smirks as he steps inside, casting Alex a filthy smirk before he pullsoff his shirt. “Baby,” he says, and pushes Alex to the bed. “I’m definitely onthe naughty list for the thoughts I’ve had about you.”Naughty or nice, Alex thinks that they both got exactly what they wanted thisyear, and if anyone had told Alex that this is what he’d be yearning for at thestart of the year, he’d think they were insane. Now that he has it, he knowsthat the only madness would be not having this, not wantingMichael.With Michael finally in his arms, Alex isn’t going to let go.It’s rude to take back the gifts you’re given, after all.*It’s December 21st and Alex turns over in bed to see snow fallingoutside the window. He’s warm in bed, curled up with thick blankets, but despitethat warmth, he’s missing the body heat of someone pressed up against him. Heturns, with a whine of protest, sleepy eyes opening to see Michael sitting nearthe door, tugging on his boots, along with his denim jacket. “Wear the puffer,”Alex mumbles sleepily. “You’re gonna freeze out there in the tree lot all day.”Michael pulls on his other boot and wanders back to bed to give Alex a kiss onthe cheek. “I’m sorry, is my sleepy husband asking me to wear his expensivegifts?”“What’s the point of being a rock star if I can’t spoil you?” Alex asks,yawning in the middle of his words as he grabs at Michael’s jacket to try andpull him in for another kiss. “Your Santa hat’s by the door,” he mumbles, stilldebating whether he wants to go back to sleep.“Thanks, babe,” Michael says, adjusting the hat as it jingles and jangles.“Don’t forget, you’re on stage at noon to lead the carols,” he says, pocketinghis keys. Alex stretches his whole body out and stares at Michael with a happy grin,thinking about the days ahead and the activities they’ll be doing to ring inthe holidays. His house in Los Angeles has been sold, the fancy cars gone, andwhile Alex hasn’t stopped touring and has the same team supporting him, he’slearned an important lesson.It’s one thing to have a career that you love, but having friends and familyaround you at the same time makes life so much better.“I’ll see you there, Santa,” Alex promises, voice low and thick with the headypromise.“Thanks Mrs. Clause,” Michael teases as he goes, whistling a very familiar songon his way out, and as Alex falls back to sleep, the last thing he hears isMichael singing, “I don’t want a lot for Christmas…” under his breath, whichcoaxes Alex back to sleepy warm and perfect dreams about the life he’s made forhimself.

can u please give the people.... "please don't do this, don't act like you care" for javid..... i crave The Pain......

ik you were hoping for angst penzy but i managed to find a way to make the line a lil fluffier, pls enjoy 🤪

javid; 1.6k; bonnie and clyde au (hopefully part one of several??)

-

Texas, 1930.

"Damn it! God damn it!"

David Jacobs kicks the back fender of his car in a fit of utter frustration, and then groans when that only manages to break something else.

"Fucking piece of shit car can't get me anywhere," he continues. "I oughta drive you straight to the dump, you good for nothing pile of trash!"

The engine is smoking— a problem David certainly doesn't know how to deal with— and he's a good few miles from home with the sun setting behind the horizon. He's still wearing his stupid work uniform and all he's got with him is the handful of pennies that he'd collected as tips today. He truly hasn't a clue what he's going to do.

He's not sure how long he stands there, just staring at the disaster of a car that probably ought to represent the state of his life, but he's suddenly snapped out of his thoughts by a voice from behind him.

"Havin' some engine troubles?"

He practically jumps out of his skin when he turns to see a random man, about his own age, walking up to him. He seems to have been walking along in the ditch next to the road, out of view of any vehicles driving past.

"That's a nice way to put it," sighs David, rolling his eyes, because this night couldn't possibly get any worse, so of course he might as well start talking to a random stranger on the side of the road. "Engine trouble, wheel trouble, oil trouble— you name it, I've probably got it."

The mystery man laughs, and Davey can't help but admire the way his eyes crinkle up.

"Say, would you let me take a look at it? If I can fix it, maybe you could spare a fella a ride to the next town. My own car's busted up past any chance of fixin' just a ways up on the next road over, an' I'd rather not have to walk all night."

Davey's heard plenty of advice from his mother about not trusting strangers, especially on this stretch of road that passes within less than a mile of a state prison— anyone could be an escaped convict!— but what choice does he really have? If this stranger were going to murder him, he certainly would have started doing so already.

"It's a deal," says David as he offers a hand to shake. "David Jacobs, it's very nice to meet you."

The stranger spits in his hand before shaking David's, and then laughs when David recoils in disgust.

"Jack Kelly. Sorry about that— that's how I do it with my pals at home, I s'pose it's an instinct now." He walks around to the front of David's car and pushes the hood open, whistling lowly under his breath as he inspects it. "This is some jam you've got yourself into here."

"Sure is," David sighs, leaning against the passenger side door and watching Jack start to tinker with the engine. "So where is this home where you spit all over each other's hands? I've never seen you around before."

Jack seems to panic a little as he hesitates to come up with an answer, which is incredibly suspicious. David's got a handgun hidden in his car just in case, if Jack ends up trying to rob him or something. This'll be fine, right?

"Not too far east of here," Jack finally replies, clearly being as vague as possible on purpose. "I'm headed out west, or rather, I was until my car got all busted. I might be in a sticky spot now, but I'm gonna be famous, y'know."

David can't help but laugh at the very notion of anyone from around here doing much of anything with themselves, let alone making it big. Jack is suddenly much less intimidating.

"Famous..." he chuckles. "I'm sure you are. How do you suppose you're gonna make that happen, Mister Ain't-Even-Got-A-Working-Car?"

Jack looks up from the engine to meet David's eyes and grins.

"I've got plans, you see. I've just gotta get to a town or something and hop on a train, and I'll be right back on track."

David can't help but smile sarcastically right back at him.

"Everyone's got plans. What makes you any different?" He's well aware of how cynical he sounds, but he can't really help it. "I planned to move to the big city and study music, and someday I was gonna hear my own records on the radio. Now I'm twenty-one and still waitin' tables in a diner in the same damn farm county where I grew up. Plans don't always work out."

Jack scoffs.

"That's where you're wrong, Davey. Sounds like you had dreams, but I've got a plan. I know exactly what I'm gonna do. And anyways, a face like yours ain't made for radio— you oughta be in the pictures. You look like a movie star, I swear. Ain't twenty-one too young to give up on your dream? Maybe you could come to Hollywood with me!"

David rolls his eyes, but he can't help the blush that springs to his cheeks. He has always dreamed of being in the movies, but he never quite had the confidence to commit to that one. The radio had seemed far more attainable.

"Don't do this," he sighs. "Don't act like you care about some random fella you just met and his stupid dreams. I've got no shot in Hollywood, or even with my music for that matter. What's your plan anyways? Hop on a train going west and see what happens?"

"Don't put yourself down, Davey, and hey— I most certainly have a real plan!" Jack seems far too confident, but he's got an air about him that makes David want to believe him. "I'm gonna take the train for a while, and then do a few jobs here and there to start gettin' rich. I'll get me a car that works, and before you know it, I'll be the next Billy the Kid. Trust me, it'll all fall into place."

David raises an eyebrow.

"Wasn't Billy the Kid a criminal?"

Jack feigns surprise, gasping dramatically and clutching his non-existent pearls.

"Well bless my heart, I suppose he was!" He laughs and straightens the cap on his head before looking back down to the engine. "What kinda jobs did'ya figure I meant? I'm gonna—"

He suddenly cuts himself off when a police siren begins to sound in the distance. He dives behind David's car, out of view of the road, and waits nervously there until the cops have sped past them.

"Are those sirens looking for you?" asks David, after a moment, as Jack tries to play it off like he'd just sat down to take a rest. He suddenly notices the metal ring on one of Jack's wrists, clearly from a busted pair of handcuffs… and the jumpsuit that he’d originally taken for mechanic’s coveralls very well could be a prison uniform. "Jesus, your car didn’t break down— you just broke outta jail, didn't you!?"

Jack just laughs sheepishly and rubs at the back of his neck.

"Maybe?" he chuckles, before jumping to his feet and raising his hands in surrender. "I really don't mean no harm! I just got sentenced the other day, and I can't spend two years rottin' in prison when I've got plans to get famous, so I had to run! All I need is a ride to a train station and I'll be outta your hair, honest."

David can't help but laugh a little. For an escaped criminal, Jack seems entirely harmless.

"What did you get arrested for, anyways?"

Jack seems somewhere in between proud and embarrassed when he begins to count the charges on his fingers as he lists them.

"Vagrancy, loitering, robbery, breaking and entering, escaping from a different jail when I was fifteen, shoplifting..." He shrugs. "I like to keep busy. Now let's pretend you never heard none of that, and I'll just keep workin' on this engine here? It should only take a couple more minutes and we can hit the road."

As Jack scrambles to keep working, David just watches him and lets his thoughts run wild. What if he were to go with Jack? He'd at least be getting off the farm, where he argues with his parents every day and then storms off to his tragedy of a job in town. He could at least try to make something of himself— Jack says he ought to be in movies, wouldn't that be a dream?

He can see it now: his name is on the marquee of the tiny theatre in town, and his parents are finally proud. He comes home for a visit and they're not even mad that he ran off with a stranger— it was worth it! Meanwhile, he's got all the riches he could possibly desire: he wears suits every day of the week and lives in a mansion on the beach. That's the life he deserves, so why not take a step to try and get it?

He sighs heavily and makes up his mind.

"You know what might be faster than driving this rust bucket to the next train station?" he asks, leaning onto the car and grinning at Jack, who looks up with a rather confused expression. "We use the handgun in my back seat to steal the next car that drives past, and we take off towards California."

Jack seems incredulous for a moment, but when David shrugs, as if to show he's not joking, his face lights up and he steps back from where he'd been working.

"I like how you think, Davey." Jack laughs almost giddily and claps his hands together. "I think we're going to make an excellent team. You and I will go down in history, I swear it."

Hi! I am a big fan and I'm so happy you're doing fluffy prompt fics

Brains are Sexy

Fic Summary:Bucky Barnes is ridiculously nervous about tonight. He is, after all, presenting his own exhibit at this year's Engineering and Robotics Fair which just might land him a full scholarship at Columbia's Engineering Program. Somehow, he's gotta get through the presentation without passing out.

When he catches eyes with a drop-dead gorgeous guy in the crowd -- who smiles and nods and gives him a thumbs up -- Bucky's confidence suddenly doubles. Drop-Dead Gorgeous even stops by to check out his exhibit when Bucky's finished with his presentation. Impressed and lavishing Bucky with compliments, Bucky decides it's a day to be brave and ask him to join him and his friends for drinks.

But there's just something oddly familiar about this Roger fellow. Bucky's sure he knows him from somewhere.Rating: Mature Warning: N/ALength:  13.4k completeSample:

Before Bucky can respond to any of them -- and poor Tony is simply drooling for his chance to get a good look at his arm -- someone taps him on the shoulder. Much to Bucky’s surprise, it’s the person from the audience. Up close, he’s even more beautiful. So much so, Bucky almost staggers to the side. He does, in fact, need to catch a breath.

Bucky was right in thinking he was muscular. That t-shirt he’s wearing under his jacket looking ready to tear off of him. He’s a good four inches taller than Bucky so being this close to him means Bucky needs to look up at him to see that pretty face. Those sparkling baby blue eyes. That jawline. Those thick lips. All those thick lashes. Being this close does another thing, too. He looks familiar. So super familiar that Bucky even thinks he should say his name before remembering he doesn’t actually know it.

“Hi,” Beautiful Mysterious Stranger says. “I just wanted to say you did a really great job.”

A smile pulls up on Bucky’s mouth. He rolls his lips in and scratches the back of his neck. Bucky even shifts his weight.

“Thank you,” he replies. “You really think?”

“Yeah,” BMS says. “It was amazing. You put so much of yourself into your work. It was beautiful. May I?”

He holds his hands out, asking permission and consent to see the arm for himself. Bucky, probably to Tony’s dismay, lifts it so he can touch and see. The guy, even with his big and, probably strong hands, is careful and gentle.

“Does it pinch at all?” he asks. “Between the plates?”

“That was a problem in the beginning,” Bucky answers, still caught by the familiar look of this guy’s face. “But we’ve minimized that down to barely anything by making the plates lift only when the arm needs to recalibrate.”

“What about people who might want something that doesn’t stand out as much?”

Bucky stretches his lips. “That’s something we’re still trying to figure out. The plates need air otherwise it’ll overheat so the coverings they have now are no good. Shuri’s working on some things, though, that might do the trick. As for me, I mean, I like it this way.”

“You know,” BMS tells him, “I think it says a lot about you that you made sure to give credit to your team. Not everyone would’ve done that, especially if it may’ve hurt their chances. Those kids are going places, too. You guys are gonna change the world.”

“Thank you,” Bucky whispers, truly at a loss of words. “I’ll… I’ll tell them you said so.”

He turns Bucky’s arm one last time before gently setting it back by Bucky’s side again and smiling at him as though this has been one of his favorite moments. Bucky doesn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but there looks to be wonder and awe in his eyes.

“This is truly incredible,” he says. “They’d be crazy not to take you.”

A blush burns Bucky’s face all the way up to the tips of his ears. He’s not sure why this person’s praises are making him melt so much. Maybe it’s because he just got through with one of the most important presentations of his life. Or maybe it’s because they’re coming from the hottest person he’s ever seen in his life who’s looking at him with, what he thinks are, heart eyes. All impressed by what Bucky’s done.

So, what the hell. He might as well go for it.

“I’m Bucky, by the way.” He holds his hand out. “I know I said James, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

The guy smiles and takes his hand to shake. “Hello, Bucky. I’m St…” He pauses and swallows and starts again. “I’m Roger. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, Roger. Um…” Bucky squints as though that’ll make Roger clearer. “Have we met? You look so familiar.”

“No.” Roger answers that so abruptly it’s almost like he’s insulted by the very idea. “No, we haven’t met.”

“Oh. I just… I’m sorry, you just really look like--”

“No, it’s okay, I just…” Roger pulls his hat down lower even though it can’t get much lower than it already is. “I kinda get that a lot.”

“You’re not a fugitive, are you?” Bucky jokes even though he didn’t even get a chance to say who he thought Roger looks like. He can’t imagine anyone actually being insulted by the idea. “Hiding from the law?”

Roger chuckles. “Not that I know of.”

They both snicker and then a single moment of silence passes between them. Strange, though, the short lull doesn’t feel awkward. It feels more like a moment of suspense. Of the night readying to build up to something else.

“Hey, so, since some of my buddies over there are still in high school…” Bucky points over his shoulder. “We’re gonna go to the diner after we finish packing up here. But then from there, me and my other two friends are gonna head over to a bar and maybe you’d wanna join us?”

For just one second, Bucky’s sure he’s going to say yes. Roger smiles at the invite. He even starts to open his mouth to answer. But then he closes it and frowns, his eyebrows pulling together and, uh-oh. That can’t be a good thing.

“I really shouldn’t,” he says quietly, almost like he doesn’t want Bucky to hear him.

“Um. Yeah, okay.” Now Bucky feels like a total idiot. He starts backing away to hide in the middle of his friends. “Thanks for all the nice things you said, though, that was super cool of--”

“No, no, wait!” Roger gently places a hand over Bucky’s shoulder to stop him. “Don’t go, I…” He sighs and shakes his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to go.”

Bucky waits for him to say something else and when he doesn’t, he holds his palms out. Still waiting.

“Okay?”

“It’s not you, Bucky,” he says. “It’s me.” Roger grunts at that. “Okay, that probably just sounds even worse. It’s just…” He pinches the spot between his eyes. “it’s really complicated