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multimetaverse · 3 years

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HSMTMTS 2x09 Review

Spring Break was a bit of an odd ep but helped move some key plots forward. Let’s dig in!

Well people can no longer claim that Portwell is one sided. We finally got Gina’s pov and she starts off the ep uncertain whether the shift in their relationship means that EJ likes her but by the end of the ep she seems sure of herself and that EJ likes her back. I liked that she didn’t try to pretend that nothing had changed or that she hadn’t noticed potential signs that EJ might like her; it always sucks when tv characters act like idiots.

Perhaps the most important reveal of this ep was that Gina has a much older estranged brother who left her and her mom many years ago. That certainly makes her backstory more tragic and is definite set up for her brother to eventually return.

The writers continue to give Portwell great tropes, capping this ep off with an airport rom-com trope that also calls back to EJ getting Gina the place ticket so she could come back in S1. Not only did Gina keep EJ’s Duke sweatshirt but she altered it to fit her better which is both sweet and bold in the assumption that it was hers to keep. Gina got her sign when not only did EJ show up to drive Gina home and take her luggage but he brought her the granola bar that she had wanted but forgot to pack. I wonder if her posting on her story that she was ubering home after her flight was cancelled was intended to see if EJ would show up since the camera focused on her posting it. Also sweet that she’s taken to calling EJ, ‘ Eej’.

EJ’s opening was good, shows a lot of his character growth from the selfish guy he was in S1 and how he’s learned to value other people which of course leads into his feelings for Gina. We got another great use of the camera as character tonight when Gina was laughing after her facetime call with EJ until she realized that the camera was on her.

Jack was a lot of fun. Though he didn’t really change Gina’s mind over anything like the ep description said he would. Seemed like Gina was largely over Ricky and wondering about EJ at the beginning and the end solidified her feelings for EJ but Jack didn’t really play a role in that, it’s not like he encouraged Gina to reach out to EJ or anything. There’s a vague sense in which Jack being nomadic linked him to Ricky’s unreliability in Gina’s eyes with her craving stability but that’s a stretch. Jack mentioned that the second most dangerous part of a plane ride is when the plane takes off, a hint to the blossoming Portwell relationship where in order to take off one or both of them has to risk a confession even though they could be turned down.

This ep might seem a bit weird in hindsight. The zoom parts probably won’t age well and five years from now people might be wondering why they had Gina hang out with a manic pixie dream boy of sorts for an ep.

The path is clear for canon Portwell in the finale with EJ being Gina’s second chance at romance and her first kiss since they clearly telegraphed it out of nowhere. I’ve been impressed with the great work the writers have been doing since 2x05 to build up Portwell as a ship but also work on Gina and EJ as individual characters; they’ve been the highlight of the season so far.

There was discourse this past week over how well or poorly Portwell has been set up. Objectively very few ships on this show get much in the way of set up or consistent writing. Redlyn and Kowie had barely any set up before getting together. Seblos had none (though in fairness that was due to Disney restrictions) and Miss Jenn and Mike Bowen didn’t have much set up either. Rini did get lots of development in S1 but that’s because they had already dated and were the main ship of the show. The show’s not really about slow burns, if Jenzzara canons in the finale they’ll count and if Rina ever got together they’d also count but neither of those ships have gotten consistent development with Mazzara not being in several eps and Gina and Ricky not even interacting for the past 3 eps.

Is Portwell a slowburn? In a sense since they did feature quite a bit in each other’s S1 plot lines and even had a fake dating plot but it is true that they were platonic and not that close in S1 so it’s a wash. There was clear set up for romantic Portwell in 1x10 with team wonderstudies and Gina staring at EJ (which interestingly enough looked more like set up for Gina to pine over EJ). I think the main problem is that even though we saw Gina and EJ hanging out in the background we didn’t get any scenes of substance between them until 2x05. It was a mistake and there should have been some scene, like EJ and Gina commiserating in 2x03 over being single on Valentine’s Day or something like that. Hell there was even that still from 2x01 of EJ and Gina looking at each other at the piano while they were in the frame between Ricky and Nini singing and having a moment which would have been good foreshadowing but that shot wasn’t in the ep.

Whether Tim just really wanted Portwell to be a surprise in 2x05 as a mid-season twist to throw the audience off of what looked like a Rini/Rina triangle or he was unsure as to whether he wanted to go with Portwell or if he just planned it out poorly we may never know. Regardless they’ve had great writing for 4 eps in a row now which puts them slightly ahead of the 3 eps in a row of development Rina got in S1. I’m sure if someone added up their screen time they’d find that Portwell has more screen time this season than Kowie and more screen time than Redlyn or Seblos got in S1.

Caswell cousins was fun and Ashlyn did in fact paint EJ’s nails.

Set up for Seblos drama next week, it’s refreshing to see Seb being jealous over Carlos flirting with other boys that’s definitely not something you see on Disney shows.

Ricky got some healing done with his mom. Enough to cover their issues? No but this is probably the best this show is capable of. There was a brief mention of therapy sandwiched between other options which sounds more like checking off a box then setting up Ricky actually going to therapy. I noticed Lynne was smiling at odd times like when she told Ricky she knew about his breakup with Nini; whether that was poor directing or acting I don’t know. Who knows if we’ll see Lynne again. As an aside still so wild that Tim named Lynne who’s been a kinda shitty mom after his own mom who he seems to be fairly close with.

Really liked You ain’t seen nothin as a song but not a fan of the Tiktok style vid. I’ll level with you wildcats, I’m too old to really get Tiktok, it just seems like a crappy version of Vine to me. Let you go was good, seemed better fitted for Joshua Bassett’s voice than some of his previous songs. A big sign that they’re not circling back to Rini for a long time for sure. Though on that note we got a bit of a hint that Ricky was Nini’s muse which may one day come back as a way to help bring them back together.

Looking Ahead:

If there’s only 3 weeks left till the Menkies, with only 2 weeks left for rehearsal due to spring break, it’s hard to see East High winning unless North High is disqualified or has to withdraw.

Lily is in a promo photo so she’s likely the unexpected facetime Ricky gets which is what I had theorized. Also makes it much more likely that she’s the party crasher Ricky re-evaluates in the finale though what Tim actually wants to do with those two I do not know.

There’s little point in bringing back the Valentine’s chocolate since there’s no real stakes. Rini are already broken up, Gina hasn’t spoken to Ricky since 2x06, and it’s not like Nini and Gina were ever close so even if they stopped talking to each other it wouldn’t really affect the show in any way.

Seems pretty likely that Second Chances refers to Gina realizing that her first try with Ricky failed but her second chance with EJ won’t and that leads to her sharing her truth and cue the Portwell confession and kiss, perhaps with an assist on EJ’s end from Mazzara. We’ve gone well past the point where Portwell can be brushed off as just a plot device to help Rina but Tim is playing with fire by getting the audience so on board with Portwell if he’s once again going to have EJ lose a girl he likes to Ricky in S3.

Gina certainly needs to talk with Ricky and I do think that happens in ep 11 or 12 and leaves them on better terms. As I mentioned last week, if Tim was smart he’d slam the door on Rina if he’s going with canon Portwell or vice versa. If he wants Rina to be a slow burn he’s really botched the writing this season, it’s been too one sided and too angsty to sustain any kind of momentum or audience interest. They haven’t even interacted for 3 eps now and not only has it not affected the show but it’s inarguably made Gina’s story line much better. Again I don’t think he’s smart enough to not try and do Portwell and then later Rina but he’s accidentally set up the Rina story line to quite easily slam the door permanently on them by having their conversation be closure for Gina who’s moved on and an apology from Ricky who never liked her back as much as Gina liked him.

Not looking forward to seeing Nini basically live out Olivia Rodrigo’s life in future seasons

Curious to see Carlos’ apology song to Seb. Ricky helping him with it is a great way to help start redeeming Ricky’s character in the audiences eye’s. According to Matt there is a bit of a Ricky/EJ rivalry this season and if it’s really happening the sleepover would be a good place to do it though I hope it’s not about Gina.

Until next week wildcats.

#HSMTMTS #Portwell #Gina Porter #EJ Caswell #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Seblos #seb matthew-smith #HSMTMTS Reviews

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decodingellipses · 3 years

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Alexis Nikole, The TikTok Forager

This piece is part of the Person of Interest vertical at @bonappetit

Alexis Nikole considers her TikTok fame a fortuitous accident. She knew nothing about the platform until she started an account for her day job as a social media manager. But when the 28-year-old from Columbus, Ohio, began experimenting on her personal page during the pandemic, she got more than she bargained for. Specifically: over 600,000 enthusiastic followers and 10.3 million likes.

Since April of last year, Nikole’s now viral account has been showcasing her immeasurable knowledge of foraging and cooking with wild plants: a sorbet made out of Japanese knotweed (Reynoutria japonica), hairy bittercress (Cardamine hirsuta) turned into lush salads, and common dandelions (Taraxacum officinale) battered and fried like fritters. She studied environmental science and theater at Ohio State University, and often combines her two passions on the platform—where you’ll find her singing original songs about cattails and sassafras.

By sharing excellent foraging tips laced with undiluted humor, Nikole’s intentions were for people to take agency over their meals and make the most of foods that were free and readily available all around; especially after COVID-19 hit American shores and shopping was anxiety inducing. During the early months of the pandemic, Nikole’s TikToks focused on how foraged goods could extend groceries and increase access to fresh ingredients, especially for those living in food deserts. This is precisely why Nikole’s videos are so grounding; in these times, it’s crucial to feel some sense of self-sufficiency and stability.

Amid global adversity, Nikole forages because it reminds her that she’s human—and humans, at their very core, are part of the ecosystem, no matter how much we distance ourselves from that truth. I called up Nikole to learn more about her foraging background, how she practices gratitude for what is all around, and why the world needs more hyper-localized food systems.

Foraging makes me feel I am a part of something bigger… and that feeling is really good at chasing the depression away. Typically I go out between two to five times a week on average. In the dead of winter, I might only go once, and during the dog days of summer, I’m in the woods and nearby parks every single day. I’ll jam to ’80s funk the entire walk to the creek, but the earbuds go away when I get there. I want to hear everything—the crunching leaves under my feet, the babbling brook, and people conversing and laughing in the distance.

I used to dream of being a pop star… by night and a scientist by day. I’ve been surrounded by music for a long time. I was three when I joined the childrens’ choir at my dad’s Baptist church, I started classical piano at age five, I was in choir every year through junior high and high school, I performed a cappella in high school, and was on the e-board of ukulele club in college. I was never a prodigy, but music brings me so much joy, so I love being able to sneak that into my TikTok videos.

The best meal I’ve made using a foraged ingredient is probably… chicken-of-the-woods mushroom (Laetiporus sulphureus) “crab cakes” and an American sea rocket (Cakile edentula) and steamed beach pea (Lathyrus japonicus) salad tossed in olive oil infused with goldenrod (Solidago). Very gourmet!

My curiosity for the outdoors… was nurtured from a very young age by my parents. My two sets of grandparents knew that scouting was good for building connections and recognized the importance of getting outside, and thus got my parents into it early. My mom scouted longer than my dad did and went to sleepaway camp in New Hampshire in the summertime. Eventually, while working at Procter & Gamble, she gardened on the weekends to decompress. I would help her, spreading mulch or digging into the earth with a tiny trowel while she quizzed me on the plants. Unbeknownst to my mom, I was picking up a lot of information. From there it grew into a love of all things growing plants outdoors.

You don't have to go full forager… to reduce your environmental impact. Over the past few decades society has trended away from a localized food system, toward a global one. On the upside, it’s much easier to find ingredients like star anise at the grocery store. However, access to tomatoes year-round means they’ve got a higher carbon footprint because they traveled thousands of miles to get to your plate. Even shopping at your local farmstand helps with lowering your carbon footprint; it’s also a little easier than identifying a plant and bringing it home to eat.

Everyone was afraid of going to the grocery store… when I started my TikTok foraging videos in April 2020. So I thought: Hey! Here are a few plants that are really common and probably growing in your neighborhood that you can gather, and maybe that’ll stretch your groceries a bit.

Poor and POC communities are hit hardest… when major disasters hit. We saw the same thing playing out in Texas with the massive winter storm. So I offer my knowledge to help someone who needs to get some fresh food on their plate.

As a Black, queer female forager on the internet… I’m not the person people expect to see excited about foraging, the outdoors, biology, botany, and history. I have delightful forager friends who are white, and I notice they don’t get questioned nearly as much as I do. That’s heartbreaking. When my dad learned that my account becoming viral also meant me becoming susceptible to online harassment, he got angry and told me, “I’ve been alive for 65 years. It doesn’t feel good that you’re still called into question because of who you are.”

Though, it all feels worth it when… a follower sends me a thank-you message saying, “Because of you, while I was out walking I recognized this plant and it made me feel like my neighborhood was a cooler and happier place.” To be less unacquainted with plants or more connected to surroundings because of me is a huge win. We take better care of the things we know.

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thinkingisadangerouspastime · 3 years

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warmth

Then her shoulders fell, the inky shadows deepening across her face as Katara sighed and pulled her knees into her chest. “I just—I have to know you’re okay, Aang. That’s all. It’s not a big deal.”

Aang blinked, her words sinking into his heart like a stone into quicksand. “Know I’m okay,” he repeated, “or know I’m alive?”

When Aang falls, Katara is always there to catch him. But maybe that’s part of the problem.

(Written for Day 5 of Kataang Week 2021: Healing, hosted by @kataang-week. Read here on AO3 or continue reading below.)

Aang loved Katara. Plain and simple. Under only the watchful eye of the moon—hope all is well with you, Princess Yue, Sokka is doing just fine—Aang might even be willing to admit he was in love with her. It wasn’t a secret, per se, but to love was to be vulnerable and despite the infinite lives he contained as the Avatar, Aang was still only human.

All the same, Aang had no shame in acknowledging that he liked having Katara’s attention on him, and moreover that he liked reciprocating her attention with his own on her. He liked how they were touchy-feely with each other in a way they were with no one else, liked how they would stay up together to count the stars and talk about anything and nothing, liked how they could make each other smile at even their lowest points.

But ever since Ba Sing Se…

Something had changed.

For better or for worse, Aang wasn’t quite sure. Because now, now it seemed more of Katara’s attention was on him than before. And at first, Aang thought he’d understood why. He’d died, he’d been in a coma for weeks, he’d flirted with death while Katara had been the one keeping constant vigil at his bedside. Though his outward wounds had long since healed into scars, there were lingering aches and pains below the surface that still could make him stumble.

Katara was always there to catch him when he fell.

But that was the—that was the problem, for lack of a better word on Aang’s part. Katara was healing him all but constantly, never letting him out of her sight for more than a few minutes at a time. The only exceptions had been his time at the Fire Nation school and her secret trips to Jang Hui as the Painted Lady. She’d almost burst into tears when he’d gotten the smallest of scratches across his thumb the other day, and that? That was not normal.

Whatever was going on, Aang knew he couldn’t let her face it alone any longer.

One night during their usual stargazing, lying down with their backs against the grass on the flattest ledge in their camp, Aang seized the moment.

“Is there a reason you’ve been so… protective of me lately?” he asked, trying to keep his tone as even as possible. It was like trying to approach a baby deer-cat—he didn’t want to spook her by storming into the subject.

Katara stiffened, and though she didn’t flee, Aang idly wondered if he’d underestimated how painful this conversation might be. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way,” Aang tried to reassure her, turning in the grass onto his side so he could face her properly. “You’ve just seemed a little on edge the past few weeks. Talking about whatever’s on your mind might—might help.”

“Doubt that,” Katara muttered bitterly, keeping her eyes averted from Aang’s own as she picked at a blade of grass. The moonlight breaking through the tree branches to their right cast dark shadows across her face, like rivers of ink winding down her cheeks. “I prefer not thinking about it, much less talking.”

Well, at least she’d admitted something was bothering her. Aang counted that as a small victory. But her aggressive resistance did mean he would have to prod a little more to get her to open up.

“I know you’re worried about me,” Aang said after a pause. He sat up, bracing himself with his hands behind him. “I don’t know why, but I know you are.”

Katara sat up and opened her mouth, probably to argue, but Aang pushed forward, not giving her the chance to disagree. To lie, really.

“I can tell because you’ve… you’ve been healing every little scratch I get. Which is kind, but”—he pursed his lips, shaking his head—“I can’t be your priority, Katara. Not all the time. Not over healing Sokka or Toph or yourself, when someone else’s injuries are worse. Okay?”

Katara’s jaw was tight, a clear sign Aang had struck a nerve. Hopefully not one that stung too sharply, bit too deeply, because hurting Katara was the last thing he wanted to do. What he feared more than anything.

Then her shoulders fell, the inky shadows deepening across her face as she sighed and pulled her knees into her chest. “I just—I have to know you’re okay, Aang. That’s all. It’s not a big deal.”

Aang blinked, her words sinking into his heart like a stone into quicksand. “Know I’m okay,” he repeated, “or know I’m alive?”

Aang had only the faintest memories of Ba Sing Se, of waking up for but a few seconds in Katara’s arms as the most radiant, most relieved smile he’d ever seen had graced her lips. The relief hadn’t matched the exhaustion—the terror—in her eyes, though. After that, he’d… disappeared, vanished somewhere into the depths of his own mind for more days than he could count.

Katara chuckled, the sound tinged with a deep-seated weariness. “Maybe a bit of both?”

“Katara—”

She silenced him with an icy look. “Don’t. Don’t use that pitying tone with me, Aang. I know it’s an irrational fear, I don’t need you to tell me that.” Katara huffed, throwing her hands up and shaking her head. “See? This is why. This is why I don’t like thinking about it.”

Aang bit his lip. Tempted as he was to swear up and down that no, he hadn’t meant to strike such a tone, he hadn’t meant to invalidate her concerns, there was a far more important direction their conversation needed to be taken in.

“It’s clearly not irrational if you can’t shake it off,” Aang said after a pause. He hesitated, then placed a careful hand on top of hers, which had returned to resting on the grass. When she made no move to pull away, he continued. “But if you’re really worried… why don’t you explain it to me?”

That offer caught Katara’s attention, and she stared at him with a mixture of shock and confusion permeating her features. Furrowed brow, head tilted at a slight angle. “What?”

Aang shrugged. “Tell me what’s making you so anxious, and then I can confirm whether or not your fear is rational.” He suspected it would be somewhere on the perpetually sliding scale between rational and irrational, as most fears born of traumatic experiences were. He had a few of his own. No shame in admitting that.

Katara hesitated, her gaze flickering over his face from top to bottom, as if searching for any hint of doubt or suspicion or—spirits forbid—pity. But Aang knew she wouldn’t find any, and he was right.

“Okay,” she murmured, averting her eyes from his own to stare at the grass they still sat upon. “Maybe I do need to”—she shook her head—“maybe that would help. A little.”

Katara’s current discomfort was clear to Aang, and he hated seeing her like this. Shaken, weary, broken in more ways than one. But what he hated even more was to see Katara terrified, and terror was the only expression written in her eyes each time she watched him get hurt, no matter how minor the injury. So if she would talk, Aang would listen, and he would do whatever he could to reassure her.

“This war has been going on my entire life,” Katara said after a pause. “So I’m not—I’m not unfamiliar with death”—a low chuckle escaped her lips—“although not for a lack of trying on Sokka’s part.” She heaved a shuddering sigh, picking at a blade of grass with her hand that wasn’t beneath Aang’s. “But warriors died in battle. Babies didn’t always survive birth. I—I saw my own mother’s corpse when I was only eight years old, Aang, so burned up you could barely recognize her—”

Katara snapped her jaw shut as her voice neared a fatal crack, and she blinked back tears.

Before he could lose his nerve, Aang turned Katara’s hand over, the one still beneath his own, and carefully laced their fingers together. I’m here, he tried to say, not knowing how to say it. His touch seemed to do the trick, though, as Katara exhaled a shuddering breath and moved to rest against his side, their shoulders pressed firmly together.

“I was never… never close, though,” she murmured, her voice having regained stability. “Never touched the bodies. Not even my mom’s.”

The note of grief in Katara’s voice rang sharper than a wind chime, and Aang had to fight down the urge to pull her into his arms then and there. He couldn’t. Not yet. Not until she was finished, not until she was ready. So though Aang’s heart ached with an identical loss—You turned your back on the world!—he said nothing, and he let her continue.

“But I… I caught you, Aang.” Katara’s grip tightened around his hand, but Aang didn’t pull away, not even when her nails began digging into the skin just below his knuckles. “When you fell, in Ba Sing Se. After Azula. I caught you, I held you when you were—”

“Gone?” Aang supplied when her voice vanished, and Katara nodded, rubbing her eyes with the back of her free hand.

“Yeah.” She took another slow breath, clearing her throat. “And, you know, people always say that death is—that death is cold. It’s life, energy, stolen from the body. But Aang, you were”—Katara shook her head, eyes brimming with tears that glowed like droplets of liquid silver in the moonlight—“you were so warm, I could almost believe you were sleeping and would wake up in my arms any minute.”

Aang swallowed a lump rising in his own throat. “And I did wake up,” he said gently, once a beat had passed. “Because you saved me, Katara. You brought me back.”

Katara gave him a sorrowful smile. “Don’t you get it, Aang? That’s the problem.” Her free hand clenched into a fist, and she slammed it a single time against her chest—right over her heart. “I had the water from the Spirit Oasis. I had control, that was why I was able to heal you then, that was how I was able to make everything okay. But now?”

Katara’s hand uncurled, falling weakly to her side as she shook her head. Another silver tear traced the edge of a shadow that still haunted her cheek, the drop trickling downward. “Now, I don’t have miracles to rely on for help anymore. The only control I have is me, my own abilities, and Tui and La, Aang, I can’t—I can’t lose you again!”

Her voice broke, and Aang threw all forethought to the wind, releasing Katara’s hand to pull her into a hug fiercer than any they’d ever shared before. He didn’t care how her tears wet his shoulder, he didn’t care how desperately her arms locked around his body, no, all he needed was for Katara to know that he was there.

“I’m so sorry,” Aang finally whispered, pathetic and useless as the three words were.

Katara shook her head, face still buried into his shoulder. “Not your fault.”

For the first time since they’d met in the South Pole, Aang had no idea how to comfort her. It won’t happen again, I’ll always be there for you, you’ll always be there for me, we’ll both make it through this—they were empty promises, cheap vows he had no way to guarantee.

“We’re here now,” Aang murmured, pressing the lightest of kisses to the top of her hair. A new three words, a different but still simple action—something about the combination of gestures must have soothed Katara, as Aang could feel her exhale and her body relax against his own. “We’re here now.”

The present was all they could count on.

#kataang #kataangtag #kataang week #katara #aang #kataangst #atla #avatar the last airbender #atla fanfic #tw: discussion of death #amy writes

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jay4firefic · 3 years

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How Buck accidentally adopted a cat... (featuring Christopher Diaz)

“What’s with the sour face?” Buck asks, dropping into a chair at the kids’ table beside Christopher. The kid in question is still picking at his half eaten barbecue long after the other firehouse children have run off to play in the big backyard.

“Harry’s dad might let him get a pet.” Christopher stabs viciously at his pasta salad with his adaptive fork, only succeeding at scattering pieces in every direction. “My dad says we can’t have a pet and I’ve been asking for ages.”

“I’m sure your dad has a really good reason for saying you can’t get a pet.” Which for the life of him Buck can’t remember at the moment, despite the fact that he knows Eddie told him about Christopher’s crusade to get a dog just last week. He catches Eddie’s eye over the top of Christopher’s head and jerks his head in a silent come here.

“He says we don’t have time for a pet but that’s stupid.” Christopher’s fork clatters and scrapes across the plate again. “I have lots of time.”

“Well, buddy, taking care of a pet is a lot of work,” Buck says, slinging his arm around Christopher’s narrow shoulders.

“How would you know, you don’t even have a pet.”

“Actually,” Buck pulls Christopher in a little closer and ruffles his hair, “I’ve got a cat. And she’s pretty high maintenance.”

For the first time since Buck sat down Christopher looks up at him. His furrowed brow is so clearly a scaled down version of what Buck thinks of as Eddie’s ‘what are you talking about, dumbass?’ expression that Buck nearly melts. “You don’t have a cat, Bucky. I’ve been to your house.”

“Yeah, Bucky,” Chimney sits down across from them in tandem with Eddie and steals a carrot stick off of Christopher’s plate. Eddie just watches Buck with a confused frown. “You don’t have a cat, unless something happened in the last 24 hours that you miraculously haven’t told us all about.”

“I’ve never told you about my cat?” Buck looks between three baffled expressions. He doesn’t talk about Chicago much for a variety of reasons, but he really never told them about the cat? “Huh. Well, I totally have a cat. When I moved to Los Angeles I left her in Chicago with my old roommate because,” he turns back to Christopher with a serious expression - or his best attempt at one, at least, “pets need stability and a lot of attention, and when I first moved here I wasn’t living somewhere I could give her that.”

Christopher scrunches up his nose in an adorable frown. “If she doesn’t live with you how is she still your pet?”

“I’m with the kid on this one. You’ve been in LA like three years, that’s not your cat anymore man.”

Buck steals another carrot from Christopher and throws it at Chimney, who catches it right before it can hit him between the eyes and pops it in his mouth instead. “Rude. She’s totally still my cat. I rescued her!”

“You rescued her?” Christopher’s eyes widen and yeah, Buck is starting to win him over.

“I did! I rescued her from a warehouse fire in Chicago. Here, let me…” Buck digs out his phone and starts scrolling through old Instagram posts until he gets back to 2016. When he finds the right picture he makes a triumphant noise and turns the phone toward Christopher, then Chim and Eddie. The screen is taken up by a photo of Buck, a half a decade younger and a little leaner, decked out in CFD gear, covered in soot and ash, and holding something that looks like a dirty rag. He scrolls to the next picture - a close up of the pitiful gray bundle peeking out the collar of his turnout coat that resolves into a singed and filthy cat. “See? I rescued her, she’s my cat.”

“That’s a pretty sad looking cat,” Eddie observes, and it’s truthful but Buck still squawks in protest.

“She was having a bad day, alright? She’s a beautiful lady.” He closes instagram, opens his messages and finds the most recent one from Casey. Stupid Cat still misses you, and a picture of Kelly asleep on the couch in a pool of sunlight with a black and white cat curled up on his bare chest. Buck used to spend lazy mornings in the exact same position. “See?”

He startles and nearly drops the phone when Athena lets out a low whistle and leans in over his shoulder. “Are we supposed to be looking at the cat or that man, Buckaroo?”

Both, Buck thinks, even as he scoffs at her. Christopher provides a convenient distraction by tugging on his arm and demanding to know the cat’s name, his frown replaced by a grin that could light up a Christmas tree. Crisis averted. “Uh, her name is...Cat, actually,” he laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Now it’s Athena’s turn to scoff. “You named your cat Cat?”

“Well, uhm…” Buck briefly has a whole different crisis on his hands trying to figure out how to tell that story without giving too much away. “My roommate said if we named her we’d get attached and have to keep her, so he insisted on just calling her Cat until we found her a new home. And then we...never found her a new home. Kinda hard to rehome something with three and a half legs and one eye, y’know? By the time he gave up and admitted she was ours it was too late to change it.”

He had tried for weeks, surfing baby name websites on his phone over breakfast or while lounging around the house and calling her by anything that caught his interest. At the end of the day he was always still calling for Cat, though, and Kelly had never stopped adding Stupid as a prefix.

“Looks like your roommate ended up getting pretty attached himself,” Chim observes as Buck flips to a different picture - a selfie of a grumpy-looking Kelly with bedhead, holding a mug to his lips while Cat balances precariously on his bare shoulders.

“Does that man own any shirts?” Athena asks.

Buck elects to ignore her and answer Chimney. “Severide will never admit it, but he loves the Stupid Cat. I was gonna go back for her once I got settled, but…” He shrugs. He wasn’t ready to face Kelly without the distance provided by a phone line at first, and then it had just seemed cruel to separate them. He had always meant to return to Chicago, to 51 and home, someday anyway. That someday had just started getting further and further away once he got attached to everyone at the 118. “She’s got a pretty cushy life in Chicago, and lots of people to take care of her. Here it would just be me, and like I said,” he looks down at Christopher again, “pets are a lot of work. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

“Can I meet her someday?” Chris asks, because he always knows just how to pull on Buck’s heartstrings.

“I don’t know, buddy. Maybe someday. For now I’ll see if K-” he catches himself, smooths it into, “Casey and Severide can send me some videos to show you. How does that sound?”

“Okayyyyy,” Christopher agrees with a put upon sigh.

A few minutes later he finally gets up and joins the rest of the kids at play, and Buck has to uncurl himself from the uncomfortably small chair. Eddie bumps their shoulders together while Buck is still trying to shake feeling back into his feet. “Good distraction, but you realize he’s gonna be asking you for pictures all the time now, right?”

Buck shrugs and jostles Eddie in return. “That’s fine, I’ve got plenty.”

#9-1-1 fanfiction #evan buckley #christopher diaz #i was writing a lot of angst and i just needed this ok?#buck would adopt the most pathetic animals #i will not be convinced otherwise #eddie diaz #911 chimney #chicago: 911 #kelly severide #my fic

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Emily Prentiss, college sophomore, absolutely does not have a crush on the girl across the hall.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come in, it’s open!” Emily Prentiss yelled out over her music blasting out of the laptop on her desk. She was listening to her pregame playlist, which was chock full of throwbacks, middle-school jams and of course, The Killers to keep things interesting.

Derek Morgan pushed open her dorm room door and waltzed in. He had a pair of light blue jeans on, held up by a brown belt, with a white t-shirt on top. He jumped on top of Emily’s slightly-too-high bed, and bounced as he grinned at her. Derek was many things, shy was definitely not one of them.

“You look hot,” Emily said, with as much sarcasm as she could manage, looking him up and down. She could tell he dressed up.

“You know it, princess.”

Rifling through his backpack, he grinned as he pulled out two blue college-branded metal water bottles, filled with what was probably not water at all.

“I made us sangria!”

Emily laughed, then spun back around in her desk chair. She still needed to finish her makeup. She had her foundation and eyebrows done, but she needed to focus as she applied her eyeliner.

“Did you just mix some juice into the wine?” She asked, taking the bottle from him, having a sip of the fruity liquid.

“Yup! There’s going to be a keg there, but I wanted to give us options.”

Emily laughed before focusing on her mascara wand gliding across her lower eyelashes, trying to finish up so they could start preing for the party. She wasn’t quite dressed yet either, still wearing her class jeans and not her going out jeans (there was an important distinction between these that mostly involved whether or not she could wear them with a belt.) Morgan was about five minutes earlier than she expected. Moreover, the boy had only sprung the invitation to the party during their lab that afternoon.

As much as she hated to admit it, Derek was basically 90% of Emily’s non-academic social life, the second year boy already very well connected due to his football scholarship, letting him in on all of the good parties. Unfortunately that also meant for Emily that he would spring themed parties like anything but clothes, or no cups allowed on her with absolutely no heads up most weekends.

Emily will not wear a tote bag as a skirt again if she can help it.

Despite the excessive drinking and mixed bag of party attendees, Emily genuinely enjoyed the boy’s company. Anyways, he was the best beer-pong partner that she’s ever had.

“Can I hop on aux?” He asked, leaning over her computer before she could even protest.

“Sure,” she replied, knowing he was already on his own Spotify account and putting on his playlist titled ‘FOR THE BOYS and emily’ that he found hilarious. She knew she could get him to sing along to the Mamma Mia! (2008) soundtrack once he was a few shots in, but for now she resigned herself to wordless EDM.

He sat on her desk, bobbing his head along to the beat.

Emily reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a smallish bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, with their college’s crest etched into the glass. For a school that denounced drinking-culture, they had a shocking amount of merch for sale that encouraged it.

She filled each to the line, and slid one towards her friend.

“Bottoms up,” she said, as they cheersed the foul tasting liquid. Morgan grinned and winked at her before shooting it back with the confidence that only a nineteen year old could have.

Vodka still made her queasy, but being underage meant that the college students would take what they could get. Morgan’s senior friends would boot alcohol for them for an extra five bucks, but only every few weeks.

The one thing about the states that Emily still couldn’t wrap her head around was the backwards alcohol policy. Almost everywhere else on earth she would already be legally drinking. Hell, when she was 16 she was passed out in a ditch in rural England, drunk off her ass on legally acquired beer. Even now, if they drove north of the border, Emily could be off to the bars, no questions asked. America was absurd.

“How was the rest of your day?” Emily asked him as she stood up, digging through her dirty laundry to find her other pair of jeans. She tossed aside her fuzzy pjs, a bra and an assortment of band tees but her jeans must’ve been at the bottom. She needed to do laundry but was ripe out of quarters.

“Eh,” he made a face, “I had to finish up that quiz for psych, but honestly I just needed to catch up on some readings. I had like fifty pages of a badly scanned book from like a hundred years ago to annotate.”

“Reading? In this economy?” Emily snarked at him, still rooting through the bin. She knew her blue jeans were here somewhere.

“Well I know you can’t read,” he replied in a haughty tone, “doesn’t mean the rest of us have to remain unenlightened!”

“Ha-ha.”

There they were, right at the bottom of the bin. She changed right then, with Morgan politely averting his eyes, despite the fact that both have seen just about everything in the year or so that they’ve been acquainted.

No, they didn’t hook up or anything, it wasn’t like that.

It was the strange phenomenon that only could happen in college where you get really close really fast. Emily’s RA had explained it to their first-year floor, likening it to soldiers in the war (Emily wasn’t sure if the metaphor was kosher, but it was apt.). Young adults first starting out in the world, free from their family supervision and previous lives, cling on to those around them for stability. The RA explained this as in a cautionary tale, explaining that this can lead to high emotions, to fights, and… a bit more.

This talk led into their floor-cest talk, which was apparently required in every co-ed dorm at their school. Emily was the first to point out the heteronormativity in that policy. Floor-cest, for the uninitiated, was the concept of hooking up with someone on your floor in the dorm. It was formally discouraged by residence life staff. It was easy to have meaningless sex, harder when you have sex with someone you live down the hall from. Things could get messy.

Emily and Derek got this talk on move in day, both sitting cross-legged on the floor of their common room as their RA, a bubbly girl named Carol, explained the fundamentals of dorm life. Emily has been dropped off by her mother’s driver, who helped her unload her things.

Emily was still reeling from being surrounded by happy families, of crying parents and bitter that her mother was too busy to even send her own daughter off to school. Not that Emily wanted her there or anything, but the gesture would have been nice.

She remembered the startling moment when Derek walked straight into her room and offered his hand, introducing himself to his new neighbour.

They shared a wall, the co-ed bathroom down the hall, and most of their free time for their first year at college.

He had assumed that the driver, Paul who was one of Emily’s favourites out of her mother’s staff, was Emily’s father, which started things off on an awkward note. Soon she was swept up in a whirlwind of his family: his mom and sisters who insisted that Emily pose for photos of Derek and ‘his new dorm friend.’

A year later, Emily and Morgan were basically siblings. Emily didn’t actually have any siblings, but after going to Chicago for thanksgiving with the Morgan family, she was pretty sure she had officially been adopted.

Last year, they had a much nicer dorm, one of the newer ones with big windows and nice common spaces. This year they were both living in the oldest residence, a beautiful red brick building, covered with ivy, but the inside was all painted this gross beige, and the paint would chip off whenever Emily tried to hang her posters. There was also no air conditioning, the showers didn’t get too hot and the kitchen smelt like eggs. It was definitely a downgrade, but at least Morgan was on the same floor as her again.

Morgan had lucked out and gotten a corner room with tons of windows, and Emily was right next to the bathroom and could hear when anyone flushed.

After donning the jeans and a black tank top, Emily grabbed her leather jacket and they were ready to go.

“Another shot?” Derek asked, grinning at her mischievously.

“Of course,” Emily said. “Where are we even going anyways?”

“Well, you remember David, the TA from our psych lab? His housemates are throwing a party in their backyard. I heard there was going to be a DJ!”

“David Rossi?” Emily said incredulously, “How did you swing an invite to that?”

“I can’t reveal all of my secrets, you know that pretty lady.”

Emily scoffed. It was probably through their mutual friend Aaron Hotchner, who despite not being much of a partier, was very in the loop about the happenings on campus.

“Did you invite you know who?” Derek asked, a bit too casually as Emily locked her door.

Emily refused to bite.

“She definitely has better things to do than hang out with the likes of us.”

---

“I’m a criminology major,” Emily repeated, the exasperation in her voice palatable.

The boy, who was on the rugby team as she already learned, had asked her what her major was. He misheard her and began asking her how she likes studying biology.

The music was loud and the boy was clearly wasted off his ass. She was pretty sure she saw him do a keg stand in the kitchen earlier.

Emily took another sip of her drink, keeping it close to her chest. She looked around. They were only five minutes off campus at a decent-sized student house. The room was close to being at capacity, the old home creaking under the weight of dozens of students crammed into the living room. Music blared on a strangely impressive speaker system. The party was at its peak in the backyard, and was probably only an hour from being shut down by the cops if it got much louder.

Emily had carefully positioned herself next to the open window, enjoying the slight breeze as the body heat was making the old house steamy with humidity. This also happened to be the location of the bong, but she accepted the trade-off.

Derek was currently playing king’s cup, a game Emily refuses to play, since last time she got roped into it she lost miserably. She was forced to drink the king’s cup: a mixture of shitty beer, whiskey, cider wine and whole cream from the fridge, as she had been a bit too slow with bouncing the ball into the red solo cup. Derek held her hair back as she puked off the porch that night.

Never again.

Emily squinted as a few people she recognized walked into the room. It was only a month into classes, so she really hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the new random assortment of people in her building, lectures and in her general orbit but she was pretty sure she was starting to recognize some faces.

Entering the party was the blonde from the end of the hallway who always complimented Emily on her outfits when she passed and had the most colourfully decorated dorm in the entire building. ‘Penelope G.’ read her name tag pinned to her door in their RA’s loopy handwriting.

Next to her was a younger boy that she had seen in the cafeteria with Penelope before, and while Emily wasn’t that good at identifying ages, he definitely looked a bit too young to be at college. He was tall, skinny and had a mop of unruly brown hair. He was also wearing a sweater to a house party, which was a major beginners mistake. He looked around nervously.

A few seconds later, the door closed, only dumping an assortment of other boys into the already packed house.

Emily let out a breath she didn’t know she held, as she found herself hoping that Garcia’s other friend might have been joining her that night.

Derek had teased her already about the girl across the hall. Jennifer Jareau. “My friends call me JJ,” she had said. Second year varsity soccer player and communications major. The girl Derek was convinced that Emily had a crush on.

JJ was the kind of girl who propped her door open during orientation week and always waved at Emily when she walked down the hall.

She did not have a crush. She barely knew anything about her besides that she was blonde, athletic and was always smiling. Both had been so busy since school had started, and seemed to have completely opposite schedules that they hadn’t really gotten to really connect.

Whenever Emily was coming back to their floor, JJ always seemed to be leaving. And vice versa. Somehow they were on exact opposite schedules. Probably since JJ was a varsity soccer player with early morning practise, and Emily was a bit of a night owl (that was a polite way of saying insomniac procrastinator perfectionist.)

She seemed to hang out with Garcia around residence, Emily having spotted the two getting coffee or studying in the library together occasionally, hence Emily’s hopes that Garcia may have JJ in tow that evening.

JJ was also definitely, one hundred percent, completely straight. Fairy lights and Polaroid pictures on her walls straight. She even had a high school sweetheart that might survive the turkey dumping season. Emily didn’t know his name but JJ said the key word early on in the year: boyfriend.

Emily turned back to the boy in front of her, who was describing, in detail, how the stock market worked, without realizing that Emily was not paying attention at all.

He was quite conventionally attractive, with mussed curly hair and broad shoulders. He obviously was interested in her—or rather interested in talking at her and potentially sleeping with her—that despite herself, Emily decided to slot him into her roster for that evening.

Emily considered herself a reluctant bisexual. Women could make her heart skip a beat just by looking in her direction, and men could get it when the situation was right and she didn’t have any other options. The second half of this pleased her mother to no end, as when young fourteen year old Emily Prentiss had decided to come out to her mother—at one of their rare dinners together—she watched her mother grit her teeth and tell her to keep that to herself. Her mother had eventually accepted this part of her daughter’s life, but only under the assumption that Emily would eventually end up with a man, and keep the rest to herself.

Emily looked around the room and wondered if she was going to have any other options that evening besides the very talkative boy.

Excusing herself from the company of…Matthew, she thinks was his name, she tries to find Derek, who had disappeared into the kitchen. Emily weaved through the crowd, steering past a couple making out in the corner.

She turned the corner and found Derek filling his cup with more beer from the keg. He grinned up at her and did the same for her.

“I hate beer,” Emily said to him, grimacing at the scratchy taste of the fermented barley in her red solo cup.

“Suck it up buttercup, you’re in college. You also complained about the juice from earlier.”

“Yeah well, watering down eleven percent wine is as bad as this five percent crap.”

“It did taste a lot better,” he agreed. “Who was that guy?”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Matthew attempted to explain macroeconomics to me.”

“Oh god, is that what men are like out there?” He asked. “Guess you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“Lucky me.”

“Pong?” He asked, gesturing towards the row of tables set up in the backyard, through the open door and passed the crowd milling about near the speakers. The game seemed to be wrapping up, as the two teams shook hands and reset the cups to their original positions.

“Always.”

They found their spot at one of the tables across from their new opponents: Penelope and her very young looking friend.

“Penelope Garcia?” Derek grinned, recognizing the girl from their floor and walking up to her for a hug. Their rooms were facing each other, and they had apparently gotten the chance to get to know each other.

She grinned and hugged him, clearly a lot more sober than him having only arrived minutes earlier. There seemed to be a lot of hugging at house parties, Emily discovered when she moved to America, acquaintances became close friends once alcohol was involved.

She had bright pink glasses and a matching dress, with bright artfully done make-up highlighting her large smile. Emily knew that she was a CompSci major and had loaded her dorm room desk with monitors and the largest computer set-up that Emily had seen in her life.

“Derek, my love,” Penelope replied, gushing over Emily’s friend in an unexpected, but not unsurprising way. “Fancy meeting you here! And Emily! Have you two met my fine young friend here, Spencer?”

She gestured to the boy, who waved awkwardly.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he said.

“He’s like a boy-genius or something. He already has a degree in mathematics and he’s currently working on his second degree in engineering. Isn’t that très cool? We met at the club fair last week.”

“I’m double majoring in philosophy,” he added.

“How old are you kid?” Morgan asked him, quick to the punch.

“Uh- sixteen?” Spencer seemed to ask, shrinking into himself a bit. “I skipped a couple of grades.”

He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose, a brown sweater with a white shirt collar poking through and had tucked his brown hair behind his ears. He was still taller than Penelope, but the smattering of acne and wide eyes made it clear that he was very much a kid.

“More than a couple!” Morgan exclaimed.

He shrugged.

“Are you in intro to logic with Williams?” Emily asked, realizing that she had recognized him from somewhere.

“Yes, I am. Though I find his repeated chess metaphors a touch reductive.”

“You’re right about that. Like, we get it Willy, you play chess. Big whoop,” Emily said, then introduced herself.

He smiled at her, slightly less awkwardly this time but with a touch more confusion.

“And this is Derek Morgan,” Penelope piped in, “the most gorgeous football player I know.”

“Do you know any other football players?” Spencer asked.

“Now you hush!” She admonished him. “We have a game to play.”

“Do you two have something to drink?” Derek asked them, moving back towards their side of the long fold-up table, which was crudely painted in their schools colours.

Emily took a sip of her beer, wondering if the boy should be drinking.

Penelope babbled about how it was Spencer’s first college party, and how she was so excited that it was this one because look at the pretty string lights decorating the backyard and the fact that there was a keg, like in the movies.

Smiling at her new neighbour, Emily thought that this might also be Penelope's first college party.

Derek returned with a cup of water for Spencer, and some beer for Penelope. Spencer seemed relieved at the gesture, smiling as he took a sip. Emily marvelled at her friend's kindness, despite what anyone said about drinking culture on campuses either way, it was tough to attend a party and not drink, putting his drink in a matching red cup gave him the appearance of participation.

“Do we all know the rules?” Derek asked.

“The question you should ask,” Emily said, “Is if they’re willing to play by your rules.”

Emily had discovered that this game, depending on the people you were playing with, had radically different rules. While the premise of the game remained the same: there were six cups on each side of the table, into which you threw ping pong balls and whenever you got a ball in a cup, that cup was then taken out of the picture until there were no cups left. Depending on who you were playing with, the cups were filled with water or beer (Emily hated when they had beer in them, it make things sticky and it was very unsanitary), there were specific rules to what defined an airball, when one could get balls back, when you could call island and what was a permissible trick shot.

“Ha ha Prentiss,” Derek said to her, rolling the ping pong ball in his hands. “I wanted to know if they had played before.”

“Oh I’ve played before,” Penelope said, “and I am unbeatable.”

She waggled her fingers in a gesture that implied magic was involved.

“It’s simple physics,” Spencer added, “I’ve memorized the rules and common approaches. We’ll be more than fine. ”

“Ok pretty boy, let’s see what you’ve got. Eye to eye?”

Looking into each other’s eyes, rather than at their targets, the two boys aimed at the cups, with only Reid’s making it in.

“What the fuck Morgan,” Emily exclaimed as Penelope and Spencer whooped, “what even was that throw?”

With the other team having won the privilege of starting first, Emily was forced to toss her ball towards Penelope, who took it with a grin.

She threw first, missing the table entirely.

“Air ball!” Derek announced, leaping forward and waving his hands in front of the cups on their side, the rules granting him the ability to defend their territory.

Spencer frowned, apparently perturbed by this turn of events. He stuck out his tongue, aimed, and launched the ball, hitting Morgan right in the chest. The ball bounced off of it and fell straight down into the cup.

Derek’s draw dropped. Spencer and Penelope whooped in excitement.

“Derek, how did you lose us that cup?” Emily whined, pulling one of their cups to the side. One point to Spencer.

Derek, who had something to prove, lined up his shot. He gazed at his targets with the focus of a sniper, dunked the ball into one of their cups, dousing it with water, and rolled it in his hands, giving it a bit more weight. He aimed and fired off a quick shot into the centre-left cup. It spun around in the cup, floating above the water, but fell in. If the other team were crafty, they would have blown into the cup and Derek would have lost the point, but Emily sighed in relief when she realized that despite their first point, they didn’t know the rules well enough to beat the current reigning beer champs.

It was Emily’s turn. She took a gulp of her beer—she would always swear she was better when she was drunk because she didn’t think too hard about it—and threw. It neatly fell into the back right cup, scoring them two points for that round.

“Balls back!” Derek roared in delight.

Penelope tossed them, and the game continued.

They sunk one more shot on their turn. 3-1.

Penelope got another cup, Spencer missed. 3-2.

Derek’s ball bounced out, Emily sank hers. 4-2.

Only minutes later, after playing at breakneck speed, there were three cups left on the table and Derek and Emily were quite drunk, with Penelope not far behind. Reid, still very sober, was matching the duo with intense concentration.

It was his throw, with two cups left until his victory. He shots carefully, sinking it without a splash.

Derek and Emily had one cup to go. He went first, sending one barreling towards the cup. It hit the rim and instead of going in, it bounced towards Emily, who leaped forward and grabbed it before it fell off the table.

“Trick shot!” She yelled. Derek could try again, but only if he does it in an inventive way. At the frat house they spent a lot of time in first year, the only acceptable trick shot (under this house’s rules) was bouncing the ball off a poster of Obama. This time, Derek takes an empty cup, puts the ball in, and uses the cup to aim.

Somehow, it went in.

They leap into the air, yelling with delight. But they hadn’t won yet. The other team still had a redemption shot.

“How ya feeling kid?” Derek taunted, “Wanna give up now, save yourself the embarrassment?”

“Not a chance.”

He squinted at the table, lining up his shot with precision. With his left hand he licked his finger, sticking it up in the air like golfers do to measure the wind. Emily wasn't sure if this was a joke, something to psych Derek out, or something the boy was genuinely able to do. He frowned, seeming to ponder the information.

He aimed. He tossed it. He sunk the redemption shot.

They were in overtime.

“You can do it princess,” Derek told her, watching her with utmost intensity. Emily adjusted her stance, chugging back the last of that glass of beer, feeling the alcohol with greater focus than before.

She glanced around at the other team, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a familiar face looking at her: Jennifer Jareau from residence. Her not crush.

She was looking at her. Watching her play.

A swell of nervousness flooded up through her lungs, and she forced it out by huffing a breath.

She needed another drink. Moreover, she needed to focus.

Emily threw it. If it made it in, then they won. If she missed, Spencer and Garcia had another shot at redemption. They couldn’t lose this, not now, not in front of… uh, everyone. She was definitely not thinking about JJ in this situation. That would be something a frat boy thought about. She didn’t want to win beer pong to impress some girl, she wanted to win because she had pride.

The ball sailed through the air, Emily held her breath. It caught the lip of the cup, teetered. A splash announced that they had won.

Thank god.

With a whoop, realizing what they had done, Emily and Derek roared with joy, jumping into each other and hugging in their celebration. A few onlookers clapped, noticing how close the game had been.

They pulled apart and reached out their hands to their opponents.

“Great game,” Emily said, shaking Spencer's hand, “Really.”

He grinned despite his loss.

“Honestly I understand the principles, it’s simple parabolas and high-school level physics,” he frowned, “Unfortunately, I need to work on translating those parabolas into the real world.”

“We’ll work on it Spence,” Garcia grinned, shaking Emily’s hand while smiling at her younger friend.

Emily realized that in their celebration, Derek had spilled quite a bit of beer onto Emily’s sleeve and down the side of her shirt and it was currently dripping onto her boots. Emily sighed, handing her friend her cup.

“I’ve got beer all over me,” Emily sighed, “Get me a refill? I’m going to try to find a bathroom.”

Derek nodded and turned back to their new friends, chatting about how impressed he was with their game.

Emily felt a bit sticky, feeling the beer coat her bare arm. Walking back into the house, she glanced at the kitchen sink trying to see if there was any paper towel or something there, but no luck. The sink was full of dishes, the counters covered in assorted empties and cups, without a dishcloth in sight. Not wanting to rifle through their drawers, she made her way towards the staircase.

There was a couple making out on the staircase, which was not something Emily would do herself. It seemed a bit precarious since alcohol was involved, but, to each their own, she thought. Emily opened a couple of the doors upstairs before discovering one of the most disgusting washrooms she’d ever seen.

There was only one thing in the shower: dawn dish soap. The boys who lived here must use that for their bodies. Emily shuddered. On the sink were some toothbrushes, razors and some floss, but for some reason, no soap. Emily found a roll of toilet paper on the floor (ew), and wadded it up to try to reduce the wet spot on her side and hopefully from smelling like a brewery when she returned to residence.

For a moment, Emily found herself gazing at herself in the mirror, feeling hazy and a bit unsteady. She checked her make-up, noting that her dark red lipstick was holding up, but her mascara had smudged under her eyes giving her more of a goth vibe than the alt look she typically went for.

Emily sat down on the tub, patting the toilet paper against her wet clothing, feeling very drunk now that she was seated. Dammit Morgan, couldn’t he have spilled his beer on himself instead of her nice shirt?

The thud of the music was muffled, but there was a ringing in her ears that made everything feel very quiet. That was until there was a thundering of footsteps and the sound of a girl announcing: “I’m going to vom, right now.”

Emily sat, jaw dropped, as a red headed girl threw open the bathroom door, kneeled down on the floor next to the toilet, and relieved herself from the contents of her stomach without so much as a knock. The girl coughed into the bowl, yacking up what was probably way too much beer for the poor tiny girl.

“Oh my gosh,” said another voice, at the door, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize there was someone here! ”

Emily looked up, realizing the voice came from no other than Jennifer Jareau.

“JJ!” Emily said, not really knowing what else to do with the girl heaving at her feet.

“You ok?” JJ kneeled down next to her friend, carefully pulling her friend’s long hair back, tugging a hair tie off her own wrist and collecting it so that it didn’t get anything on it.

Emily felt stupid sitting on the tub, not helping anything. She tossed the rest of the toilet paper in the garbage, placing the half-empty roll on the edge of the tub.

“Can I get her some water?” Emily asked, “To rinse her mouth?”

JJ looked up at her and nodded. Emily felt herself blushing slightly as she turned away. Who let one girl’s eyes be so big, and so blue. It was rude.

She returned a minute later having had to rinse her own beer cup out in the gross kitchen sink to make sure that she wasn’t accidentally giving this girl some random person's sketchy cup.

Emily remembered that earlier Derek said that it was a varsity party, so it did make sense that JJ was also in attendance. The whole team probably was. The other girl looked like a soccer player, she had that vibe.

Emily handed the cup to JJ, who gave her a grateful smile. Emily felt their fingers touch for a moment, before JJ turned to attend to her friend.

She tried to get her to take a sip, and Emily took the moment to look JJ up and down, taking in her light blue skinny jeans, black tank and high heeled boots. She was basically wearing the uniform of a straight white girl at a houseparty. Not to say Emily wasn’t also basically wearing the same outfit, pairing the jeans with combat boots and attempting to set herself apart with her black nail polish and eyeliner that her mother once called ‘a lot.’

In contrast to Emily’s fairly undefined thin body, she took note of the strong looking shoulders that flexed as JJ kneeled down on the floor. She was definitely an athlete. Emily looked away, checking her phone, feeling suddenly embarrassed for looking at the girl.

‘Where u go bbg????’ Read a new message from Derek.

‘Girl puknigh up hre’ Emily typed, ‘Got her waterr’

Emily blinked at her typos, pressing the red underlined words, hoping her phone would correct them for her. She wasn’t that drunk.

The two girls were talking quietly, and Emily decided to take her leave, but before she could the red-head beat her to the punch deciding that she wanted to puke in peace.

“Leave me aloooooonnne Jennifer,” she wined. “Get out, I don’t want any more fucking water.”

JJ pulled back, making a face and holding her hands up in the ‘I surrender’ motion. Emily hurried out into the hall with JJ on her heels. The girl kicked the door shut angrily, and the sound of her retching ensued.

“There was a funnel,” JJ offered as an explanation. She leaned against the door. “How has your night been?”

Emily blinked. JJ was making conversation. She didn’t want Emily to leave just yet.

“So far so good,” Emily replied. “Doing better than your friend, at least.”

“That’s not hard to do. So I guess you didn’t chug from a funnel yet?” JJ quipped, smiling and revealing a perfect, white smile.

“Oh I have that scheduled for one-thirty, actually,” Emily said, pretending to check her watch and grinning.

“Let me know before you do, I’d like to watch that,” JJ said casually.

A wave of heat rushed to Emily’s face as she realized that drinking from a funnel would entail Emily on her knees, with JJ watching her… a thought that she needed to push out of her brain immediately.

“I’ll have you know,” Emily said in retort, “I can chug amongst the best. I am no stranger to these sorts of parties.”

JJ grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“I’m a reigning beer pong champ, I’ll have you know.”

They laughed.

“I saw your last victory. Very impressive.”

JJ, in a controlled fall, slid down the door and sat down in the hall, resigning herself to waiting for her friend. Emily wondered if she should return to Morgan now, but unable to tear herself away from the opportunity for a conversation with JJ.

“I’m awful at pong,” the blonde admitted. “I miss every time.”

“You probably just need a good teacher.”

JJ raised her eyebrows, “oh yeah?”

“I mean,” Emily said, sitting down onto the top step of the staircase, facing her floormate, “it’s all about hand eye coordination. It’s basically a sport. You need a coach.”

They both laughed.

“Well if that’s the case, why don’t you teach me?”

Emily gulped.

The door opened, and JJ fell back slightly before catching herself.

“I’m going home,” JJ’s friend announced.

JJ looked up at her dishevelled friend and nodded, turning back to look at Emily apologetically.

“Another time?” Emily offered, smiling before walking down the stairs and rejoining the party.

Next chapter ->

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #criminal minds au #queerminal minds #criminal minds fic #emily prentiss x jennifer jareau #jemily fanfiction #my post #my writing #this is going to be a LONG one #mostly fluff #i love college au #gravelyhumerus cm college au

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aizawaskittenwhore · 4 years

Text

𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐭

words:3.7k

pairing: aizawa x fem!reader

warnings: tw mention of blood, tw mentions of death, mentions of drugs in case you forgot this is a cartel au, murder, swearing, keigo being a cocky lil fucker, sexual harassment towards the end cause yakuza men suck

rating: 18+ cause shit gets real this chapter

a/n: i FINALLY FINISHED IT FUCK YES chapter two mothafuckas!!! i’ve been having so much fun brainstorming everything to come, and here you’re gonna really get a feel for how big this cartel is. player two, f/n l/n, you’re up! <3

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 ↳ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞

September 13th, 2181

2:56pm

Musutafu, Japan

“Hold the fuck up. This doesn’t make any sense, I mean—these are Pros. Well known and well respected Pros, at that. The hell would they be tryna’ run a fucking cartel for?!?” Ken Takagi (more commonly known as Rock Lock) rubbed the bridge of his nose in confusion, not understanding the motive or correlation. “I mean think about it. These motherfuckers got more money than they know what to do with. Endeavor is a shareholder in goddamn Nintendo, Hawks owns his own fucking agency and line of sports cars, and I could’ve sworn I saw Eraser getting Shinsou fitted for a fucking Cuban on his birthday a few months ago. It’s not like they’re strapped for cash these days.” Ken huffed, the agent’s arms crossed as he leaned back in the conference chair.

In an attempt to try and broaden the range on your current investigation, your department recruited the help of several Pros to provide reinforcements in Japan, the States, and wherever else sales were being made. Going undercover was already plenty dangerous, and going alone was the equivalent of signing your own death warrant. Enlisting the help of Rock Lock, Ryukyu, Miruko, Fatgum, Edgeshot and plenty of others was relatively easy; these were Heroes that had experience with smugglers and narcotics-based operations, so when you’d approached them with the task at hand, they’d happily agreed.

However, some needed more convincing than others.

“Takagi. Think about it. Sure, they may not be living paycheck to paycheck, but look at the timeline.” You state, looking over your shoulder towards the holographic board displaying an interactive timeline of the investigation, including photos, invoices and even audio recordings pulled from surveillance cameras. “Two years ago, we seized a truck containing approximately 78 kilograms of crack cocaine. When we questioned the driver on where he was taking it and where he got it from, he didn’t budge. Luckily for us, the dumbass wasn’t smart enough to avoid a paper trail, leaving the insurance documents in the glove compartment when we’d taken him into custody. The insurance company was under the name “Target Lance”, but after doing some digging on the name we found out the corporation went bankrupt six months before and was eventually bought out by Chevrolet.” Pausing to return to the screen welded to the wall behind you, your hands swiped as you searched for the file reading December 5th, 2178: A live video feed of a towering skyscraper being built, the building’s name reading “Chevrolet Corvette Inc.” as it hovered above tens of stories above each worker.

“But you all haven’t heard the name Chevy in a while right? That’s because two weeks after that building was built, the hundred-million dollar company was bought out by Takami Corporate-”

“-who owns Takami Motors. Which is the brand associated with the Peregrine Speedsters, Hawks’ damned sports car line.” Ken finished for you, brown spheres twinkling in sudden clarity. “Now you’re speaking my language.” You nod, hands waving as you continue to brief the room of Pros.

“The Todoroki and Nintendo console collaboration didn’t happen until about earlier this year, March to be specific. Which is quite convenient..since around that time the price of cocaine per gram stabilized in both America and Japan, rising from $112 to $138 bucks a pop. I’m nobody to speak on looks either, but for as long as we’ve known of him, Eraser has dressed like a depressed college student with insomnia that doesn’t understand the concept of soap or a pair of clippers. Now he’s got his wife in Cartier bracelets and getting his shirts tailored because the collar “doesn’t allow him enough room for his capture weapon”?!? Bullshit.” You huff, stifling a smile as you watch Miruko and Edgeshot snicker in their seats at your...blunt observation.

“It makes sense. Three years ago all our agencies, including those overseas, started cutting our checks down by half. They can barely afford to pay us a quarter of what we used to make, and these guys are making these lavish purchases while we all starve?? No way. Something’s fishy, and it’s damn sure not this takoyaki.” Fatgum spat, hands quivering with rage as he struggled to grasp the food with his chopsticks.

“Fatgum’s right. Hero unemployment is at a staggering 8.7 percent. Meanwhile, these men are spending money like it’s going out of style. It makes no sense.” Miruko pondered, Ryukyu folding her hands in her lap as she voiced her approval for immediate action. Edgeshot nodded in agreement, brows furrowed in frustration at this blatant disregard for the law. “So we’re all in agreement that our own people have resorted to breaking the law. Cool, got it. Question is, why? And what the hell are we gonna do about it?” Ken demanded, his patience having worn thin from all this speculation.

“Good question. I think they’re trying to take advantage of the tough spot the Hero Commission is in right now, manipulate that vulnerability and use it for their own gain. They’re not invulnerable to the tough times Pros are facing in the workforce. So they’ve gotten together to try and make it work for them, even if it means breaking the law.” You query, hands typing furiously at the virtual screen to pull up the files of each Hero, displaying all the current information on them from their blood type to each known family member. “These three banding together though? Along with other people? There’s no way. They hate each other. Or at the very least couldn’t get anything done even if they did have a common goal in mind.” Edgeshot murmured lowly.

“I thought so too. But then it hit me: it’s not just some flimsy group project. Sure, crime has gone up since the formation of this cartel, but nobody who holds any rank has been murdered or harmed in any way. No no no, these guys are singing in tune for now...which means there’s a damn good choir director among them. So I’ve volunteered to go undercover, work my way through this organization and figure out just how high up this goes.” You assert, shoulders rigid and chin aloft as the harnesses of your costume frame your figure.

“Alone?? Are you outta your goddamn mind? Let me go, you’ll need back up-” Rock Lock sputters, hands fanning out in shock.

“No way. What about your wife, your kid?! This isn’t just some average drug bust, we’re dealing with powerful men in possession of superhuman abilities that have the game on lockdown. You’ve got too much to lose, more than any of us anyway. Edgeshot and I will go, we’ve seen the other side of the law before, and our quirks are better suited for stealth should anything go wrong.” You fire, eyes narrowing into slits. “The rest of you will be working in tandem with the DEA and our resources, and we’ll report back to you with all future developments. We’ll also need you to be ready to fight at a moment’s notice, if we need it.”

A thick silence clogged the air, Ken settling back into his seat across the table. His amber eyes flickered in irritation before huffing in acceptance, the situation being out of his hands. All the conference participants’ gazes fixed in determination, some with anger. The tense aura weighed on everyone present before Miruko cleared her throat, ivory teeth gleaming in a smirk.

“Well we’ve got a solid plan. So all I wanna know is...when do we start?

June 2nd, 2182

In all honesty...you thought the nickname was just a sad attempt to stroke his ego. But seeing the way over seventy commercial-size planes and approximately 30 seaplanes sat aloft balmy concrete in the Guadalajara sun showed you exactly why they called Hawks “Lord of The Skies”. Arrays of laborers with avian-oriented quirks loaded kilo after kilo of coke on to each and every plane, some by hand and others by forklift. Welders were personally hand selected by Keigo himself to eliminate the issue of utilizing every available inch of space; each vessel having been stripped of everything from the seats to the built in mini-bars (much to Keigo’s chagrin). From where you stood in the scalding hot beams, the runway seemed to extend for miles as it brimmed with visible heat-waves.

Dressed in a simple black tank top, black biker type shorts, aluminum plated gauntlets, steel toed combat boots and harnesses that encapsulated the curves of your body before coming to a stop at your thighs, you silently rejoiced in the airflow your gear allowed you in spite of the color. The bandanna atop your hairline helped to absorb some of the sweat, which was a bonus.

“Not bad for a starter fleet huh? The wingspan on these babies almost makes me jealous.” A rich and decadent voice called from your left. Sleek carmine appendages and brassy blond hair entered your peripheral vision, giving way to the man who ran the show: Keigo Takami. Adorned in a pair of low rise denim jeans that were so incomprehensibly tight they accentuated every bit of his dick (which was likely intentional), a plain white tee and ebony cowboy boots that looked like they cost three times what you make in a week; he most definitely looked the part of the People Magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive” and Playboy’s “Player of the Month” titles he’d earned. Luminous olive skin glistened with sweat, droplets sliding down the deep v neck of his shirt with ease; the way the daisy-hued fabric stuck to his crafted abdomen leaving nothing to the imagination. Tourmaline and Argentium piercings dangled effortlessly from both ears, and if you weren’t so hell-bent on putting the motherfucker in jail you would’ve had no problem admitting how attractive he really was.

“Starter fleet? You’re about to put Delta out of business, look at this shit!” You guffaw, arms folded, an eyebrow raised in astonishment at his “humble” admission. “Flattery will get you everywhere, and then some.” Keigo chuckles, breath hot against your ear the instant he bends at the waist, hands settled in his pockets with that cocky aura about him.

“-And having your damn breath against my ear in 107 degree weather will, respectfully, get you my foot up your ass. I didn’t fly down here to get treated like one of your poor interns. I came here to make money, so let’s talk it.” You lash, the climbing tempature slicing your tolerance for bullshit to shreds.

“Shit. Straight to the point huh? I like it. You wanna talk shop, say no more. Over lunch though, I’m starving out here.” Keigo clicks his teeth with a grin, escorting the two of you towards the very jet he’d arrived in. “A little unknown fact about me, usually I hate flying ”conventionally”. Gives me anxiety, and I’m awful company when I’m nervous.”

Settling into the light taupe hued cabin, you observe the not-so-subtle elements of class. Ivory shochu bottles with intricate crystalline glasses to match, the bar fully stocked with gold accents along the upholstery. Plates of costly Kobe style beef rested atop spotless porcelain, romaine lettuce coupled with grilled applewood bacon, chicken, avocado and buttermilk dressing settled into envy-inducing black marble bowls. The plane was spacious, and certainly cost a pretty penny or two. “You’re upfront, so I’ll be honest with you. As of right now, this plane is the last thing I’m worried about-” Hawks mutters lowly, dijon eyelets tapering into thin slivers.

“-It’s the Shie Hassaikai making their encore appearance, and with the Colombians at that.”

You choke on a sip of Vega Sicilia, pupils dilating at the thought.

“Now you spoke about wanting to make some money, right?” You nod, heart rate steadily rising.

“What if I could offer you something more? Something of...extensive value.” Keigo drawled, dark undertone flooding the air like a thick smoke. “Like what, Takami?” You inquire.

“A seat at the table.” He shrugs, like one would if they were discussing something as trivial as ice cream flavors or Friday night plans, not the reorganization of a crime syndicate. “You’ve been workin’ for me shy of a year now right? Somethin’ like that? Anyway..”

He takes a deep, contemplative swig of the chestnut liquid, eyes boring into yours.

“You’re efficient, and you don’t take anyone’s shit. Good help’s hard to find in our line of work, and before you know it, this little hierarchy is gonna go under some..reorganization. Only the people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty will have a place in the new order, so I want you there.”

“What’s the catch? I’m not dumb enough to just assume this is some promotion for busting my ass.” You tread, brain working double-time to try and decipher just what Keigo’s getting at. “Clever girl. It’s a simple task, in and out.” He assures, middle and ring finger sliding a matte-finish photo across the mahogany. Displayed was Kinan Zango, a member of the Shie Hassaikai’s middle rankings shaking hands with Joaquin Fuentes, a Columbia native known for having a body count in the double digits.

“Another fact about me: Only one thing heightens my anxiety more than planes...people who fuck with my money. This asshole Kinan’s been selling my routes to the fucking Columbians and pocketing the profits, and getting 20% of the product as a little “thank you” when he knows nobody moves coke through the Gulf other than Takami fucking Keigo. He’s becoming a problem, and I don't like those.” Kei growls, left eye twitching minutely. His nails are sinking into the polish of the wood, his energy vehemently furious.

“Take care of this for me, and you’ll be my plus one to Guadalajara tomorrow.”

The general public often made the mistake of writing Keigo off as just your average “pretty boy”. Whereas a trained eye could see that while he may be pretty, he was nobody to be tested. The sheer intellect he possesses to seek, hand-craft each and every route, assign planes to their designated locations along with alternatives should there ever be an issue? He just didn’t get enough credit.

So he took major offense when someone had the audacity to treat his hard work as though it was theirs.

Besides.. you got a man with looks, money and bloodlust? Tch. You’ve just created a monster.

You weren’t necessarily opposed to the idea of ridding the world of another drug-dealing degenerate, but the idea of casually committing a murder as a DEA agent in a foreign country just didn't sit right with you. Undercover agents weren’t permitted a “license to kill” should the investigation call for it either, so it was between committing a murder as government agent, or declining Keigo’s request and missing out on a front row seat to the cartel’s entire operation.

The silence that followed his sentence was deafening. Ice cubes chimed loftily as they swirled around inside his glass, clear liquid sloshing around while he awaited an answer.

Your jaw sets, eyes piercing into his.

“Consider it done.”

Blood spattered onto the pale concrete, moonlight illuminating the scarlet hues. Your knuckles throbbed with pain, the sensation blossoming through your hand as your lips curled back in a snarl, vigorously ridding your hands of the other man’s bodily fluids.

“ If you really think coming after me for that bird brained motherfucker is gonna change anything, you got another thing fucking coming.” Kinan spat, nose steadily flowing with red. His lip was busted, face splotched with yellowing purple bruises. Tugging at his restraints he thrashed, mouth spewing white-hot venom.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a middle-ranking yakuza who thinks some new coke routes is gonna keep the Hassaikai from dumping your body on the side of some road in Zacatecas.” You observe, sending a harsh kick between the mans ribs, steel toed boots making an audible crack. “The Japanese are like Dixie Cups to them...”‘use em’ once, then throw em’ away”, right? You’re a fool if you think your days aren't numbered once you wear out your welcome.”

“Fuck you. You’re little boy toy threw a temper tantrum, so he sent you to “take care of things”, isn’t that right?” Kinan coos, eyes softening in a mocking pout.

“Trust me, you're not the first slut Takami’s been sticking it in that he’s sent to kill me. Only difference between you and the rest of those bitches-” He huffs, head craning back against the metal chair to let our a soft breath of laughter. “-is that you’re gonna put up a fight.”

Suddenly his bones began to shift, popping and snapping as his skin began to pool below him; you recoiled in fear watching his body slowly slip from his imprisonment like gelatin exits a mold.

“I’ve got elastic bones kid! Whatever breaks just snaps right back into place.”

Skin stretching and pulling as he regained his original form, legs sprinting towards you. Before you could fire off your Quirk’s sonic blast his grip seized the back of your neck, a blade taking residence just below your left eye; it’s tip pressing uncomfortably into your water line.

“Now, if you're good, I’ll make it quick. Though I’m known for being pretty... through with my toys.” Kinan leers, a hand slowly slithering down your sides to reach for the muscle of your ass.

“Go to hell, and die there while you’re at it!” You shout.

Bile creeping into your throat, you seize the momentary shift in energy, generating a small sound wave that sent Kinan a few feet to your left; giving the two of you some distance. Your Quirk allowed you to absorb sound to power-up your physical movements, or send it out in the form of sonic blasts or sound waves, so the louder the sound, the more power it gave you. Readying your fists in anticipation for combat, you silently willed for a sudden disruption in the deafening silence as he rushed back to your rigid body.

What you didn’t anticipate was that the sudden bang that filled the air, and the lifeless body of Kinan dropping to your feet with a thud, his head...

excavated, for lack of a better word.

“Don’t you know the entire point of having backup while under cover is to... call for backup?” Edgeshot snarked, striding towards you, gun settled back into it’s holster. His foot carelessly nudged the bleeding man before removing a Polaroid camera from his knapsack and snapping a photo of the carnage.

“W-what the fuck?! Look, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful when I say this, but what the absolute fuck did you just do??? We’re government agents, in a foreign country, we can’t just fucking murder these assholes nor do we have the license to-” You sputter, brows arching in frustration.

“This was your ticket into Guadalajara. I just secured you box seats when you were this close to getting stuck in the damned nosebleeds. I believe the correct words you’re looking for are thank you.” Kamihara snaps, shoving the photo into your hand.

“We’re in a world completely different from our own. It’s forgiveness first, and permission later down here. I don’t like it either...but it’s just the way things are.” He sighs, hanging his head while his shoulders settled like the solar system rested on them.

“I’ll take care of this. Now take that to Hawks, and don’t you dare fuck it up. Don’t let me have killed this poor asshole in vain.”

You nod, stepping over Kinan’s body.

Good riddance.

“Thank you, by the way.” You putter. Kamihara returns the sentiment with a nod, before turning to the corpse before him, phone raised to his ear as he spoke with whoever was on the opposite line, eyes that were once grey now swam with deep scarlet.

“Excellent work! I won’t lie, I had a feeling you were hardcore, but damn, this is some seamless shit! You deserve my praise.” Keigo beams, pearly teeth sparkling in the light of the cabin. Nodding in acceptance you grasped his hand upon his offering, permitting him to escort you towards your respective aircraft.

“Well, a promise is a promise. And if nothing else, I’m most certainly a man of my word. Meet me at this airstrip same time tomorrow, 8am. Pack light, Mexico’s a bitch in the summer, though you already know that.”

“Got it. Pleasure doing business with you, Hawks.”

“Call me Keigo, if you want. I hate all the formal shit, long as we got respect, that's all I need.” He shrugs.

“Understood. See you tomorrow, Keigo.” You affirm, climbing the ladder to your jet, body visibly relaxing at the thought of rest.

“Wait--before you go, I wanted to ask ya. What’s with the whole ancient hieroglyphics tat you got goin on, on your spine? It just looks familiar, is all.” He queries.

Home.

November 12th, 2174.

“Y/N! I found somethin’! It’s this super cool protection rune I found in grandma’s things. Check it out! It wards off all evil, and whoever’s in possession of it can, like, balance their energy with the divine power.”

“You’re such a hippie, I swear to god.” You grin.

“Don’t hate because my chakras are balanced and yours aren’t, bitch.” She grinned, index and thumb coming together to flick your forehead.

“At least take it with you for your exam, for good luck! Pleaseeeee! I think it’ll really help.” Her doe eyes melting your steely resolve. You could never deny her, those eyes constantly solidifying her role as the younger sister.

“...Only if you’ll clean my room for me when I come back for Christmas.” You demand, an eyebrow raised in mirth.

“Deal.”

And even though you never did admit it to her, that tiny piece of paper tucked into your bra did more for you during that exam than any late night cram session ever could’ve.

“It’s a protection rune. To ward off all evil energies, spirits and all that shit.” You mutter.

“Hm. Looks like it works, seeing how well tonight panned out for ya. Could use me one, would probably keep old man Todoroki out my fuckin’ hair.” He chuckles, hands releasing from the railing as he threw you a wave.

“But I wouldn’t worry too much about tomorrow, anyway. I got a feeling you’re gonna fit in just fine with us.” He smirked.

Ah.

If only that were true, Keigo.

taglist! : @liliesoftherainmain @therealwalmartjesus

#aizawa x female reader #mha x reader #aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #mha #bnha x reader #hawks #nyafterhours

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thenightlymartini · 3 years

Text

Special Headcannon Week! (#66) APHRarePairWeek2021

@aphrarepairweek2021

Day 2: Royalty

Headcannon #66

Kimchiburger: I almost wanna go Cardverse AU! with this. Like America is the King of Spades, and technically England is the Queen of Spades, but like they are similar to co-rulers rather than married? So, that leaves America as like, the most popular bachelor in the Spades Kingdom. And SK is just some musician that America finds while touring one of the towns near the border of Hearts and is just absolutely smitten with him. Like, he makes SK the court musician because he fell in love with the other’s soothing voice and wanted him around more. He basically fell in love on first meeting while SK is just flabbergasted that the King of Spades likes his singing so much that he got a job in the palace and is completely oblivious to America’s attempts at courting or hidden agenda when he specially requests love songs.

Everyone else in the court is both amused and aghast that the King took interest in some commoner just because he has a good voice. England is just more annoyed at America beating around the bush because even he realizes nothing will happen between the two if one of them doesn’t gain another brain cell soon.

RusNK: NK was the prince in a royal family that got overthrown when he was young, like maybe 10 or so, became the only survivor of said family (sorry, SK dead in this AU) and had been in hiding in another country plotting for revenge. Except, when he finally decides to act on it, he finds out that the rebels who overthrew and killed his family got overthrown themselves and a whole new royal family has taken its place, this being where Russia is the crowned prince of said new royal family. So he decides to infiltrate the new royal family and become the crown prince’s bodyguard, ‘cause he is technically the rightful heir and should be ruling, not this family.

Except, as he gets closer to Russia, develops feelings, and really examines the situation, he can’t help but to begin to question everything. Like, should he really fight for his right as heir? If he does, it means giving up on his feelings for Russia and eventually kill or fight him. Plus, he has to think of the people. They’ve been through too many uprisings and have finally found stability with this royal family. Should they go through more violence and instability just because of his ego and his personal belief in what is rightfully his? Not only that, but he would eventually learn that his family wasn’t entirely blameless and the rebels had a point in overthrowing them (there was rampant corruption and general neglect, but did that mean they had to kill even the children who had nothing to do with the politics and were mostly innocent?). It begins to dawn on him that perhaps he is fighting for something so antiquated that it has no purpose in the current situation, or even in the future for that matter.

He could give up on the idea of regaining the throne, but then where would he be? Who would he be? All those years of training, plotting, scheming, for what? Wasted? What would his identity be then? What purpose would he serve?

He could then just serve the new royal family, maybe, if he got lucky, he might even marry Russia, thus technically regaining the throne without displacing the stability. But what if he was found out? Russia wouldn’t take it lightly, since the whole reason the two would get close in the beginning was because Russia trusted him as one of the only people that wanted to be close to him without ulterior motives or planed on using him. He could easily see it as being used. Not only that, but the new royal family doesn’t particularly care for the old royals at all, having sided with the rebels in the beginning due to shared views. He would be a dead man if caught. So does he live even more of a lie? Always on the knife’s edge while aiming for the perfect solution? While aiming for potential happiness for himself and Russia?

Commieburger: This was really based off of Atlantis.

NK is the prince of a long lost civilization, and America is an archaeologist or anthropologist with a dig team and some mercenaries who just so happens to have the book that will lead them to the lost city. But instead of the whole team finding the city, America is the only survivor of a cave in, and the only reason why he is saved by NK is because NK (who had been following the group for a while) saw him as one of the only decent humans out of that group. Like the whole group was willing to use explosives on ancient pillars and trample their way through holy ground, and the only one to care about it was America.

So NK rescues an unconscious America and brings him back to the lost city, where America wakes up and is super confused and stupefied and generally amazed at what he sees. Come to find out, NK’s father, the emperor, is dying of some sort of illness and NK is poised to become the next emperor. The current emperor wants to get rid of America, preferably kill him so that their location and the people remained protected from the outside world, as that world played a part in their downfall and subsequent hiding. However, America proves himself useful by actively trying to help them recover a lot of their old culture and history that they themselves have forgotten about, from delving into dangerous ruins to retrieve old documents or artifacts to even teaching NK how to read his long forgotten written language thanks to his book that he had since the expedition.

Through all of these adventures the two’s relationship grows from strangers to a tentative friendship to even a romance. Like these two realize that their feelings are mutual without ever having to state it, they’ll hold hands or have more skin contact than normal, but will never kiss (get pretty close, but one or the other always holds back) or fully commit to a relationship due to understanding the circumstances and situation they find themselves in. Like, America understands that NK’s people are in a precarious situation where their culture is dying off and having contact with the outside world again could either save them or doom them. He wants them, by way of convincing NK, that the outside world isn’t what it used to be and that they could still be independent. But NK has to worry about his people, he is both fascinated and fearful of the outside world, and knows he has to be very careful with how he could be leading his people. He knows his father would keep them secluded, even at the cost of them dying off, because at least they will retain what little independence and cultural identity they have left. But with him dying, it’s up to NK to decide what to do. He almost wants to just keep America with them and forget about the outside world, but knows that really isn’t the best idea. Like, same sex relations are actually a normal thing in his culture, heck, even some past royals were involved in same sex relations or had same sex partners. It’s the fact that everyone sees America as the outsider to an extent even with his help in re-obtaining their culture and history; it would be too far out there. Not only that, but he understands that it wouldn’t be morally right to force America to stay, and America, in a way, doesn’t really belong in that world. Both of them fully know they don’t want to lose the other, but reality isn’t going to make it that easy for them.

#aphrarepairweek2021 #aph america #hws america #aph russia #hws russia #aph south korea #hws south korea #aph north korea #hws north korea #kimchiburger #rusnk #commieburger #im sang kyu #hetalia #day 2: royalty

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liberty-barnes · 3 years

Text

the good think about staying home cause i'm sick is that i can finally watch the afh stream

so yeah, i've been crying for an hour and a half

like first of all this is done amazingly, charlie lightning really smashed it, no lie

hélène is the new love of my life, i just wanna hug the living daylights out of her for everything she's done for louis

the band is fucking amazing and that instrumental solo in fearless sounded like angels coming out of my tv

the crowd looking gayer than a pride parade makes me incredibly proud to know that this is not only thanks to louis, but that he knows we love and support him and that we're as brave and fearless as we are thanks to him

"only you lot can hear [copy³] once and know it that fucking well!" well, we've kinda been streaming it non stop since you first sang it so it's more like hearing it a million times but go off i guess

jho is making me fucking bawl. that song's been saving my life for four years and hearing him perform it will never not make me emotional

to everyone that was there, i'm so happy for you and thank you for letting him know how much we love him and SCREAMING the "come so far from princess park" line

this was supposed to be a short thing, but like all things in my life, it's turning into a running commentary so i'm sorry in advance

CHANGE IS NEXT YAY I ACC HAVEN'T HEARD IT BEFORE

i've been avoiding it like the plague until i had time to watch the livestream so

okay i already love it

the way the arena went quiet cause we know we need a clean version lmaooooooo

OOOOH THAT HIGH NOTE ON "cAAALL ON mEEEE" just about killed me, it was so clean

"if you need you can call on me, i'll be the friend you need, everything's changed outside, but i feel the same inside" PLS CAN YOU SEE MY TEARS

everyone's crying in the audience and looking at him with literal heart eyes and tbh same

those instrumental solos are so fucking good

this song is gonna be perfect for everything, like i can study to it, i can listen to it on the bus, i can scream it at the top of my lungs

"hold it, i'm talking" you're such a DIVA

"i'm looking around and obviously none of you know the words" give it two more listens and we'll be good, don't you worry

DEFENCELESS DEFENCELESS DEFENCELESS

"got so much to ✨lose✨" music asmr for my overworked brain

the "oh oh oh oh oh" with the instruments, and the music, and the audience >>>>> every fucking thing else

he must be having the time of his life on stage i'm so proud of him omg my baby boy i'm having a proud mama moment even though this guy's like 11 years older than me but i don't give a single flying fuck i love him so much

i need a shower to wash the salt off my face, i cried a little too much these last few songs

YAY BEAUTIFUL WAR I LOVE THIS ONE

it took me an embarrassing amount of time to figure out that the reason the drums sounded like they were making different notes is cause there must be someone playing bass but i jusy can't see them cause i'm too focused on louis and Hot Guitar Guys

oh there's the one playing bass

i think

oh give me a break i'm sleep deprived and high on pain meds

idk if i miss his long hair or dig the short hair, but either way he looks gorgeous and i love him and i want that shirt

i should watch this with my louis and play a drinking game

drink everytime he curses

we'll end up smashed but it's worth it

LITTLE BLACK DRESS OH MY GOD

IDK IF I'M FREAKING OUT CAUSE WE'LL GET A LOUIS VERSION OF IT OR IF I'M CRYING CAUSE WE DIDN'T GET A LARRY CATWALK MOMENT BUT EITHER WAY OH MY FUCKING GOD

i wanna kiss and kill whoever thought it'd be a good idea to have these many instrumental solos

kiss them cause they sound amazing

but kill them cause i'm slowly falling in love with Matt The Bassist and i don't have the mental stability to handle yet another crush on a white man but damn if he doesn't look hot with that thing in hand

like between matt dinnadge and victoria de angelis and calum hood i'm really just a hoe for bassists huh

FOR EVERY QUESTION WHY YOU WERE MY BECAUSE

i don't know who the violin girl with shoulder-length hair is but ma'am please marry me

louis taking shots is hilarious PLEASE the cough and immediate drink of water made me laugh so hard

THROUGH THE DARK YAY

even if you screeeeaaaaam and shout *cue video of liam screaming cause louis poured water down the back of his shirt*

*affectionately flips fans off🥰*

he loves us so much and that makes me so happy

this fandom is honestly amazing, from the love we get from him to the love we have for each other. it's like a fucking found family and we all know how much i love those. i love you guys🤍

hélène really wasn't lying when she said he'd sound the best he ever did

this show was 50% louis asking the crowd to sing and i'm not sven mad cause the pure happiness on his face hearing his songs being yelled back at him is too good. it's like he's surprised that we love those songs with all our hearts like of course we do they're fucking masterpieces

this is getting increasingly incoherent but who cares

DON'T KICK THE CAMERA THOSE ARE EXPENSIVE

kmm was the best song to end the show

louis and his band jumping around in happiness >>>>>>

"let's go have a DRINK!!!" god i wish but i'm on antibiotics

"oh fuck me man" i mean i'm sure we can arrange something, i'd have to check if harry's good with it, maybe we'd have to turn it into a threesome but i'm good with that

louis & hélène are my new friendship otp

louis with his family >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

"they're so loud" well i mean we learned from you, Mr Loud Loud Loud

the tommo sisters are eating pizza and now i want some too

i wish i could hug hélène, she's so amazing

"i've got these lot behind me, who the fuck's gonna stop us?" FUCKING NOBODY THAT'S WHO

i'm off to cry now, bye y'all

i'm so glad i have this downloaded cause this is the only thing i'll be watching for the rest of my life

#libby rants #running commentary with miah #louis's afh stream #louis's afh festival #louis tomlinson

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angelliev · 4 years

Text

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Three - Rocking with the Waves

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Aria just can’t get enough of JJ and his affection, making him absolutely irresistible and a familiar face arrives in the Outer Banks, along with suspicion from her father.

Warnings: Smut, some cursing, hopefully no typos and unsafe driving?

A/N: Words can’t even describe the joy and happiness I am experiencing from the amount of people who have read my writing. Thank you so much guys! I sincerely appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

Birds sing their little toons outside, the warm morning air kisses my skin and the sun beams down on my face through the windows. These are typical mornings I wake up to. Except in my own bed. By myself. Instead I wake up to the sound of a beating heart and my head laying on a naked chest that continues to rise and fall. I glance up to see JJ still asleep, his handsome face so calm without a worry in the world. I couldn’t help but lay a kiss on his warm cheek causing him to stir. For a while I just lay there drawing shapes on his chest. This causes his eyes to flutter open. He smiles down on me.

“Rise and shine lover boy.” I crawl on top of his naked boy under the sheets. “Oh, something’s rising alright.” He smirks. I lightly smack his shoulder. I have to admit though, his raspy morning voice is quite the turn on. “It’s not even noon Jay.”

“I take it that’s a no, on morning sex? It would be a real good way to start off the day.” His hands start to play with my bed hair. I simply giggle at him.

“How do you feel?” He asked genuinely concerned. “Different. Like a good different. It hurt a little at first, then it began to feel really good.” I never knew just how close you can become with someone. “Want me to me make you feel really good again?” His question laced with lust. “God, yes please.” “Good girl. Now lay back and enjoy the show.” He smirks before laying a kiss on my lips and kissing a trail down my body, taking his time. The anticipation begins to start a pool of wetness to form down below, especially when he starts kissing and nipping at the peach soft skin of my inner thighs, littering them with more love bites. When he finally reaches the region that requires the most attention, he glances up at me, holding eye contact and places my legs over his shoulders. My feet rest on his slender soft back.

“So wet for me. We’re you dreaming of me perhaps? Did I treat you so good last night?” His breath fans my pussy and he plants a kiss there, causing me to squirm. “Tell me babygirl, what do you want me to do? I need words.” His teasing look becoming too much. “Please, I want you to taste me. Make me feel good. Please baby.” I practically beg. He licks a stripe up my folds making me gasp, never taking his eyes off my pleasure filled face. My petite finger comb through his hair gripping hard, while his lengthy ones enter my core curling in. His lips attach to my sensitive clit, making me moan. He hums out of satisfaction as I continue to tug on his luxurious hair. His free hand comes up to grope my left breast. His fingers began to pick up speed as they thrust in and out of me.

“JJ, I’m so close.” I breathe out, my feet start to dig into his back and hips begin to buck. He grabs a hold of my hips stabilizing me. The familiar euphoric sensation washes over me as I reach my orgasm, making my toes curl and my back arch off the bed. My juices coat his fingers. He brings the glistening digits up to his lips, licking them clean along with my dripping hot core. I can taste myself on his intoxicating lips when kisses me so passionately. He’s so addictive like nicotine. I simply can’t get enough of him.

“You taste so good babygirl. Did you know that?” I giggle at the closeness and his hot breath fanning my neck before attacking it with soft kisses as I hold him close to me. We lay there enjoying each other’s presence in the morning sunlight. Unfortunately, our moment is interrupted by the ringing of my phone. On the screen I see Charis’s number.

“Hello?” I answer. “Hey where are you? Your parents called to ask if you were with me. Don’t worry I covered for you, said you crashed at my place, but they want you back home like asap. Just tell me where you are.” Shit. I didn’t even think about that. “Shit, I’m at John B’s chateau.” “What are you doing there?” She asked confused. “I’ll explain everything when you get here. See you soon.” I hang up and sigh. JJ looks up at me.

“I’m sorry, but my parents want me home.” He just smiles at me. “No worries babe.” He grabs my phone and punches in my number. “When will I see you again?” I asked hopeful. “Soon. I’ll take you out somewhere fun. Ever been surfing?” I shake my head yes. “A girl after my own heart, this should be fun, after all I’m the best surfer in the OBX.” I chuckle at his cocky attitude. “I have a question for you Jay.” “Mm?” I was a little hesitant at first to ask this question. “What does this make us?” I nervously bite my lip. “What do you want this to be?” He asked while playing with my hair. “Something more than just sex. I really like you JJ. I want to be close to you all time. I want to be intimate.” I confess hoping I don’t sound clingy. “I like the sound of that. Let’s give this a shot and see where it leads us.” “Do you think we’re going too fast?” “Nah, plus I like going fast.” He places one last kiss on my lips before we both gather our clothes.

Stepping out onto the porch, I see Charis’s car. I turn back to JJ who didn’t even bother to put on a shirt. “I’ll stay in touch that way we can hang out again.” My fingers play with his. “Sounds good.” He uses his black bandana to tie up my hair in a ponytail, making the butterflies in my stomach erupt. I loved the fact that he willingly let me have one of his belongings. I place a kiss on his cheek. Before I could turn away, he grabs my waist planting one last passionate kiss on my lips. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling us closer. Our noses touch even after pulling away. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon.” I peck his lips. “See you soon beautiful.” He finally lets me go; I turn back to steal one more glance before opening the door. He sends me a wink, making me chuckle and blow a kiss.

I can feel Charis’s burning gaze on me as I situate myself. “Oh. My. Fucking. God. What the fuck just went down?” She doesn’t even take the parking brake off before hammering me for details. “I may have spent the night with JJ.” I can feel the heat radiating from my blushing cheeks. “Wait, did you lose your V card?” She asked astonished. It just hit me that I was no longer a virgin and I just lost my virginity to JJ. Not being able to process words I just smile and nod yes. This sets her off. “Holy fucking sweet baby Jesus shit! You had sex with JJ Maybank! Holy shit! About time you got dirty in the sheets!” She hugs me tight. I’ve been the virgin of the group for a while now. Charis lost hers freshman year, while Sarah lost hers last summer. “Oh my god can we go before my parents lose their shit? My dad is already pissed at me.” I plead. “Right sorry, I’m just still trying to process this. When did this start between you guys?” “It started since we first met.” “So, are you guys just hooking up or are you dating?” “We’re kind of taking things slow.” This makes her laugh. “Bitch please, you skipped slow and went straight to speeding.” “What I mean by slow is that we’re still getting to know each other.” “Oh, I think you guys got to know each other a lot.” She laughs and continues to drive. “I need you to promise though that you won’t tell anyone about us. I really like him and my dad would lose his shit if he knew about us.” I plead. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me splinter bean.”

After showering, changing and covering many hickeys, I come downstairs and walk outside to the balcony to find my family and a familiar face. “Damian?” I asked surprised. “Hello Aria. Nice of you to finally join us.” He lifts up a glass. Damian Prescott. He’s my older brother. We get along a lot more than Jennifer and I do thankfully. He’s not around much though. He lives in Las Vegas. He works business with my dad. Standing next to him is a woman about his age.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming out here.” I give him a welcoming hug. “Thought I surprise you. I’d like to introduce you to my fiancée, Rebecca.” What?! “Fiancée?! You’re getting married?” This all came as a shock to me. He’s kind of womanizer, so for him to be engaged all of the sudden definitely surprised me. “Yes. We just bought a house here in figure eight and are planning on having our wedding here. Rebecca here is an international model and fashion designer.” “That’s impressive. Congratulations. I’m really happy for you guys, and it’s a pleasure to meet you Rebecca.” I hug her. “Likewise, darling.” I am still trying to process the surprising news.

“Where have you been Aria?” My father asked out of the blue. He stares me down with interrogating eyes. I sometimes wonder if he and Ingrid are long lost twins with their helicoptering tendencies. “I spent the night at Charis’s.” I say as calm and convincing as possible. Last thing I want to do is have him find out about who I was actually with. “Nice bandana. Where did you get it?” Asked my nosey Jennifer. “I found it earlier this week on the beach.” For the rest of evening I had to deal with peering eyes, but I didn’t let that bother me, instead I began daydreaming about seeing JJ again.

Next Day…

Today is a perfect day to go surfing. There’s not a cloud in sight, parents or Jennifer. Only me, my surfboard and soon JJ. Not a single soul stops me from leaving the house and jumping into JJ’s muscular arms kissing him long and hard. “Why hello there. I missed you too babe. You ready to go?” I nod my head excitedly. I couldn’t help but gaze at him while he was driving the van. His eyes were so focused on the road, yet he still kept his warm hand on my bare thigh. The wind blows past his hair as he drives. He seems so carefree.

“See something you like?” I blush embarrassed that he caught me staring. “Sorry. You’re just so beautiful.” I have no shame as I continue to admire his attractive features. “Awe, aren’t you sweet? C’mere.” He pulls me into his lap as he comes to halt due to a stoplight, my legs lay across the middle console. “Is this safe?” I ask, but not really caring. “Probably not.” He closes the gap between us to keep me quiet and I had no urge to protest. The annoyed drivers behind us say otherwise as they honk at us. We both laugh as continues to drive.

I then noticed a fully healed scar on the back of his hand. I trace over it hoping that it would just disappear. It saddened me to see a scar had littered his beautiful skin. “What happened?” I asked curious. “Oh, probably just a cut from something I accidentally did.” He lied brushing it off like it was nothing. His eyes said otherwise, but I didn’t want to push it.

We walk down beach surfboards in hand ready to have some fun. The warm water hitting our feet and soon engulfing our bodies. The two of us let out cheers as we successfully ride out some waves. He wasn’t kidding when he told me that he was a very talented surfer. It was heartwarming to see him in his happy place. Neither of us keep track of the time. We didn’t notice the day passing by as the sun was about to set. It was then when we decided it was time to leave the water and dry off. This time I catch him staring. “See something you like?” I tease about to tie up my hair, but he stops me. “Don’t, I like it down.” He says taking the hair tie away. He places a slow and passionate kiss on my lips making me smile and pull him closer. One thing led to another, now we’re laying down on the beach blanket having a heated make out session.

I was thankful that we were both wearing swimwear as I began tugging at his swim trunks. He pulls away surprised. “You sure?” “Positive. I want you to take me right now.” My encouragement only seems to excite him even more as he removes my bottoms and covers the two of us with an extra blanket. He strokes my slit with his tip teasing me. “You want this babygirl? Want me to fuck you out in the open?” His dirty talking turns me on even more, making me desperate. “God yes please. Make me yours.” That’s all he needed before plunging in so deep. His hand clamps over my mouth to contain my loud moans. “As much as I love to hear you moan my name with that pretty voice, we don’t want to get caught.”

His thrusts were a lot different from last time. These were faster, deeper and harder, which only increased the pleasure. His grunts were a little louder too. A bead of sweat began to form on his forehead and a little bit of his damp hair fell over his face as he continued to thrust into me. JJ and the colorful sky were both so gorgeous, a sight I could get used to. He spreads my legs further apart and grabs my hips creating a deeper angle, now hitting the spot that craves the most attention, making me moan loudly, neither of us giving a damn. “You like that babygirl?” He pants through moans.

“JJ!” I scream and my vision goes white as I tighten around him, milking his hard cock, making him throw his head back. He joins me shortly after, his hot cum spewing inside of me, riding out his high. The two of us stay there for a moment catching our breaths. “JJ, that was amazing.” I say dazed. This earns me a breathy chuckle from him “You can say that again. God damn you’re so tight around me babe.” We both laugh together.

We both enjoyed the peaceful silence in the van on the way back home, the two of us feeling spent. I was disappointed when we pulled up to my house. “I had a lot of fun today JJ. That was one hell of a first date.” He looks back at me. “I’m glad you had fun. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.” “Me too. See you later.” I kiss lips before exiting the van and grabbing my surfboard. I blow him a kiss and he returns it with his infamous wink that makes me weak in the knees. I place my surfboard in the closest, and grab a bowl of strawberries to snack on. Before I could go upstairs, I am stopped by my mom.

“Hey sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come through the door.” She greets me with a smile. “Oh, I just got back.” “I never seen you wear that sweatshirt. Is it new or something?” She’s referring to JJ’s Fast Arch gray sweatshirt that he lent to me when he noticed I was cold earlier.

“Oh this? It’s not mine. My friend let me borrow it because I was cold.” This is officially my new favorite shirt. It smells just like him. Weed, mint and the ocean. I still feel engulfed by him as I wear it. “That’s nice of them. What did you guys do today?” Oh, if only she knew. “We went surfing.” I only told her half the truth. “That sounds like fun. Did you use sunblock? Do you need aloe gel? You’ve been drinking plenty of water, right?” I chuckle at her. The only time she asks me a billion questions is when it’s over my health. “Yes, mom I used sunblock and drank lots of water.” I reassure her. “Okay, well take this with you anyways.” She hands me a bottle of water. I laugh. When is she not carrying water? I swear if she were to be charged for anything, it would be possession of too much damn water. “Thank you, mommy. Goodnight.” I kiss her forehead. “Goodnight love.”

I pass by my sister when she got a whiff of my new scent. “God, did you and your so-called friend get stoned while you were at the beach?” Jennifer criticizes. “No, and eavesdropping is really rude. You should get a new hobby.” She rolls her eyes. “So, who did you go to the beach with?” She asked. “Who I hang out with is none of your business. Goodnight.” I slam the door shut with a huff and let the events of earlier replay in my head. I shower and go to bed in JJ’s shirt, letting the aroma bring me peace.

I mindlessly let my fingers travel down to my wet folds and begin playing with myself. I imagine that its JJ’s fingers thrusting and curling inside of me. I imagine the dirty things he would say to me as I chase after my own orgasm. His name leaves my lips in soft whimpers as I finally finish off the night in pure bliss.

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank #lana del rey #obx netflix #the outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic

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gustafsnightangel · 3 years

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Shattered Lives Ch 39 Pt 1

The noise that filled the apartment woke her up, the sheets cold on Gustaf’s side of the bed telling her he’d let her sleep in. In the few days since the visit from Uncle Elias the kids had hardly been home. Gustaf taking them out for lunch and the movies, Stellan and the boys going bowling, and the pajama party with Valter and Gustaf’s two youngest brothers last night. She could hear Gustaf chatting to Stellan through the ajar door, the boys settling back in after the overnight with grandpa. The happiness in their voices made her smile, far less grief than this time last year, not a hint of anger or sorrow. She heard Gustaf get them situated before he came in, smile wide, damn she loved that smile, the look of him.

“Hey there lovely lady.” He murmured sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning down to claim her mouth. God the man knew how to kiss.

“Hi.” She breathed out, wrapping her arms around him securing him to her. “Sounds like the monsters are back.”

“They are, and they’re excited that we leave for the cabin tomorrow.” His kiss lingered. “Time to get up, lots to do.”

“Yeah, I need to take them shopping later for snacks, I promised them one treat each for the trip.” She kissed him sweetly. “I’m starting to regret my decision as it means I have to take them out in public.”

He chuckled, those laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “What were you thinking?” He said, the sarcasm thick.

“I wasn’t, that’s the problem.” She snorted, thumb brushing his crows feet. They both laughed at the squeak of dad dad as Lily padded her way into the room all excited, Gustaf picking her up and kissing her until she giggled. “Someone had a good time away.”

“Dad said she was running the house as soon as she woke up this morning, keeping the boys in line.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me.” She muttered. Just looking at him with her in that instance made her belly flip, the whole kids of their own thought sailing through her head like a bright neon sign. He placed Lily on the bed and she crawled over to Sildie for cuddles while Gustaf took a shower.

“He’s much happier today huh little lady.” She murmured as Lily snuggled in. She’d been worried, the days since Elias had been brutal on him. She’d phoned Elsa and dealt with more paperwork while Gustaf was shut up in his office laying down the law with his lawyers and security team. She’d never heard him so angry, the shreds he’d stripped off the building security, the anger and fury that had unleashed again as he made arrangements to have Dana’s entire family under surveillance. Especially when they were informed he’d made bail and the trial wouldn’t be until April 5th. Sometimes the system just sucked and so did the timeframe. She also knew that being away for filming over the next few months was making this whole situation far worse, she sensed his anxiety already poised to drag him under. It was a clusterfuck and added pressure he didn’t need.

“I’m going over to mums for lunch today, she wanted to chat about the whole Ana thing.” He said as he came out wrapped in nothing but a towel, setting all her wild fantasies aflame. “She’s... concerned.”

“That’s one way to put it.” She said softly. “Do you need us to be there?” Her voice was quiet, apprehension he thought.

“Not if you don’t want to be.”

“I do, I just don’t want the kids around when we’re talking about all that, about her.” She would protect them from it as much as possible. “They don’t need that in their lives.”

“I already told mum it would just be me.” He toyed with her wisps of hair at her face and kissed her tenderly. “For exactly those reasons, and I also know that Eija and Alex are there today too, family meeting about it really. I’ll get them up to speed. It’ll be fine.”

“You know the spiel as well as I do now anyway.” She trailed a finger along his jaw. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” His thumb brushed the dark shadows marring her cheek, it still made his anger flare. He tossed a shirt and jeans on and collected Lily from the bed. “Up you get love, I’ll make some tea.” He kissed her quickly and went to see why the boys were suddenly so quiet.

She could hear them play fighting as she dressed, and smiled. The beginnings of their family, fun times, happy memories, they’d build more tomorrow and over the coming weeks. The ruckus she came out to made her chuckle, three boys tackling the fourth freakishly tall one. He was a big kid at heart, that gorgeous smile plastered across his face, not a hint of anxiety or stress in him. They were both eager to be in the mountains away from everything for a while.

Leaning against the counter she watched, videoing what she could. She laughed as Lily came to the rescue of her dad dad, the boys laughing, so carefree and happy, just as it should be. Gustaf could never fully understand the precious gift he’d given them, stability, love, a family. He’d brought them together as a family unit. “I hope you’re seeing this brother.” She muttered under her breath. “He loves them as if they were his own.” Her smile went wide as Lily tackled Gustaf to the floor, the boys cheering. She fisted a hand and tapped it on the counter thinking. “He’d make a great father.” She whispered, her breath catching. Breathing out a steadying breath she saw Gustaf calm them down and leave them to play some Mario cart.

“They’re ready to go when you are, they’ve had breakfast.” He chuckled, that gorgeous smile lighting up his face as he stopped in front of her, fingers reaching to toy with the soft waves of her hair she’d left down.

“I love seeing you this happy.” She said, hands cupping his face and kissing him sweetly.

“You make me this happy love, so do they.” He kissed her, sensing something had knocked her off kilter a little. “I love you Sildie, the five of you are my world.”

“You’re ours sweet man.” She smiled, her kiss lingering. “Go have a good lunch with your mum, we’ll get some snacks and shopping for the trip. I need to get Lily another jacket, she’s grown out of her other one and the twins need new boots.”

“Fun times.” He grinned.

“Joyous.” She said sarcastically at his chuckle. “Go on. Get going.” She swatted his ass and took a sip of her tea. His arched eyebrow at her butt slap had that mischievous smirk tug her lips.

“A very dangerous game to play kitten.” He growled and devoured her mouth thoroughly.

“Text me your dinner order, I’ll pick something up.” She said changing the subject as her body melted at his touch.

“Mmmm hmmm. Will do lovely lady.” He purred. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

He could tell something was bothering her, more than her usual grief and the shitstorm that Ana had created, the way it had dragged Elias and Dana’s side of the family into the mix. So much going on in that wicked smart brain of hers. He knew she was piecing something together but there was something else she was chewing on. Walking across the street to his mothers he thought about the conversation they were all about to have, the steps he would take, had taken, to protect them all, those measures Sildie had already put in place. They would rally around him, protect him, protect Sildie, the kids, like a family should. It still irritated him that he had to resort to such drastic measures of security and legal restraints but he was out of time, options, and patience.

Sildie and the kids hit the mall, John, their shadow as she like to call him, following their car and staying a respectable distance from them as they shopped, eyes ever watchful. She felt bad for dragging the guy out on a chilly afternoon for them to go shopping, but if this was going to set Gustaf’s mind at ease while he wasn’t here with them she wasn’t going to argue. He was already under enough stress and pressure, he didn’t need anymore. She didn’t think Ana would blatantly harm her or the kids, but there was always the what if, the maybe. Those thoughts that raced through her head a mile a minute. Just look at Elias, she thought bitterly. Not in a million years did she see the connection between him and Ana coming.

Her lawyer brain kicked in as she helped the twins find shoes. How did he fit into it? How did he know her? Was he just a junkie? Was Ana just his supplier? Something more? Had there been a relationship between them? Was Elias part of the syndicate? Was the rest of Dana’s family involved? How far did Ana’s claws dig in? Questions she hoped would be answered when the law finally caught up with her. After that, it wouldn’t take long for Elias to sing, to rat on her to save his own ass.

With a new coat for Lily and new boots for the boys, Brendan included because his toes were already touching leather from the pair she’d bought a few months ago, they stopped in for ice cream. It was their weekly thing, an after shopping treat that had carried over from Dana that she didn’t have the heart to stop, especially when mint chocolate chip was involved and it kept a part of their mother with them.

With groceries in hand they headed back to the car, John helping with the heavier stuff, boys laughing, and a chattering Lily in her arms playing with the zipper on her new coat. As they neared the car the happiness of the afternoon turned to ash and vinegar in her mouth as she looked closer.

“John take the kids to your SUV please.” She said quietly and handed her bags to him. “Brendan, take Lily please and get everyone in the car with John, stay with him ok?” She saw the shock on the teens face, the questions of, who and why echoed there. “I’ll explain later.” Was all she heard herself say as she approached her vehicle slowly.

The windows had been smashed in, seats ripped, red paint covered every surface inside as if a paint can had exploded. The vulgar messages on the doors, the paint splattered and shattered windshield. She felt the panic attack surge up, the nausea and lightheadedness threatening to consume her. “Breathe.” She whispered and sucked in a breath. “Just breathe, the kids are ok, it’s just a car.” A car Gustaf had bought for her, for the kids. He’d bought it to take care of her. Pulling out her phone she took photos of it all and texted them straight to Detective Holmberg, her phone rang a moment later.

“Sildie it’s Leon. I’m on my way. Are the kids somewhere safe?” He said hurriedly. She could hear him moving as he spoke. “Are you safe?”

“Yes they’re with John our security detail, in his car.” She didn’t like how pathetic and shaky her voice sounded. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t touch anything.”

“I haven’t, I just took pictures.” As she was speaking to him she noticed a blonde woman watching her a few cars over. It took her a second to recognize her through the haze of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through her system. “Ana’s here, a few cars down from me.” She snarled, an overwhelming urge to cut a bitch slammed into her so violently the anxiety flipped a one eighty into full on lethal rage.

“Don’t approach her, pretend she’s not there. We maybe able to box her in, I’ll have the parking lot cordoned off.” Which she could hear him relaying that order as he drove. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

“Ok.” She would not crumble and give Ana the satisfaction, and she would not retaliate. She wanted to though, oh how she wanted some divine retribution right here, right now at her own hand. Everything she’d done to get at Gustaf, to cause him more pain, more grief. Yes, she thought, I’d like to have a knock down drag out with you, you vindictive bitch, she thought as her gaze flicked to Ana and then back at the car.

Calming the rage her thumb hesitated over Gustaf’s number. She knew she had to make the call or he’d be more furious at her for handling it on her own, especially after what went down with Elias. But part of her wanted to spare that sweet soul of his any further pain. She choked back a sob as she knew this would hurt him, cut into him so deeply. Her rage gave way to anxiety once more as she stared at his number. All that peace he’d found these past few weeks was ebbing away. “Together.” She breathed and hit dial, the sick feeling in her stomach growing with every ring.

“Hey lovely lady.” She could hear the joy in his voice and she was about to shatter it.

“Hey handsome.” She breathed, anxiety rising.

“You ok?” He went on full alert, he knew that tone, something had happened.

“I’m fine, so are the kids, the car not so much. Not an accident.” She blurted out quickly and held back the sob.

“Ok, good to know.” His gut threatened to abruptly launch his meal out via his teeth. “Talk to me love.” He said gently at her sudden silence.

“Ana’s here, she vandalized the car and is sitting a few cars from me. I’ve called Leon, and he’s just pulling in.” The lawyer had surfaced to take care of the situation, he could hear it in her voice, but it shook.

“God fucking damn it!” He roared, his temper snapping out. She could hear the chair he was sitting in get pushed back explosively, crashing to the floor. It was the last straw for him, she knew it would be and felt sick for it.

“Gustaf, take a breath, please.” She stayed calm, her voice quavering with the tears that threatened to fall. She was only just holding it together. “Were fine, the kids are in the SUV with John at my request. I’m not in any danger and Leon is here.” She willed her voice to not shake. “He just pulled up.”

“I’m on my way to you.” He seethed, he would fucking murder the bitch.

“You won’t get in they blocked the car park so she has no where to go.” She tried for calm, her voice betrayed her as the anxiety surged forward again.

“The hell I won’t.” He spat and she heard the unmistakable slam of a car door. “I’m on my way.” The line went dead.

She’d never heard him this angry, never had him be so short with her. New Year’s Eve was one thing, confronting Elias another, but this? This was an entirely different level of anger, explosive, reckless, and violent.

“I take it that was Gustaf?” Leon asked coming to stand beside her.

“Yes. He’s on his way and rather angry.” That was the understatement of the century.

“Quite rightly.” Holmberg muttered. “Where is she?” He asked, paying particularly close attention to a spot on the drivers side door as he spoke.

“Your eleven o’clock, four cars down, blue...” She said softly, only flicking her eyes to make sure she had the details correct.

“I see her.” He texted the location to his team and let them handle it. Before Ana could tear her eyes away from Sildie and the mayhem she was gloating over, her car was boxed in and police were hauling her out.

Sildie wasn’t interested in the takedown, or the profanity spewing from Ana’s mouth as they cuffed her. She turned her back on Ana, not giving the woman another moment of recognition. It was difficult not to retaliate, because she wanted to, she wanted to March right over there and lay her out cold for what she’d done to Gustaf. Rarely did Sildie want to get into a physical altercation but she was certainly ready to make an exception in this case.

She peered into the car once more, her focus drawn to the rear view mirror and what was no longer hanging there. “She took it.” Her choked tone had Leon turning sharply.

“Took what?” He asked, but she couldn’t answer him, her voice had ceased working as the grief swallowed her whole. Silent tears tracked down her cheeks and she felt her world bottom out. As they placed Ana in the back seat of the police cruiser she felt familiar arms around her, turning her slowly until she was breathing in that familiar scent.

“Sildie.” Gustaf sighed, the relief that she was ok flooding into him. Eyes searched for John’s car and landed on him a moment later, the respectful nod saying the kids were fine setting his mind at ease.

“Sildie, what did she take?” Leon asked again softly as she buried her face in Gustaf’s chest and wept.

“Something missing?” Gustaf asked flatly looking at Leon with ice cold eyes.

“All she said was she took it.” Leon shrugged.

Gustaf leaned down to peer into the car and his temper went nuclear. “I will fucking murder her.” He snarled, holding Sildie tighter to him. “The charm from her rear view mirror is missing, the one her brother gave her.” He said evenly, barely able to contain the contempt in his voice.

“I’ll need you to check the rest of the vehicle to see if anything else is missing.” Leon’s voice had turned flinty.

“Give us a minute ok?” Gustaf asked, he had to talk Sildie off the ledge of a panic attack and stuff his violent fury back into its box.

“Take your time, it’ll take us a while to process this mess.” Leon said and moved away.

Gustaf stood there, soothing her as best he could when he knew all she’d be able to feel would be the waves of anger rolling off him. “You’re ok love, I’m here.” He murmured. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry.” She sobbed. “I’m sorry... the car.”

“No, no, you’ve done nothing wrong, look at me.” He said tenderly trying to get his anger under control. “Look at me love.” When she did it crushed him. “I’m the one that should be sorry for dragging her into your life.”

“But the car.” She hiccuped.

“Is just a car. It’s insured. I’m more livid about what she took from it.” His rage banked as he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, she needed him to be calm. They were both stressed and him letting the anger gain the upper hand wasn’t the answer. He’d have time to unleash later.

“It’s gone.” She sobbed.

“It is love, I’m so sorry.” This was tearing her apart and cleaving his soul into pieces. That charm wasn’t something he could replace. He couldn’t fix it.

“Oh shit, the kids, they’re still with John...” she said hurriedly swiping the tears from her face, realizing she didn’t have the luxury to fall apart. “And I just left...”

“They’re perfectly fine, look.” He pointed to the SUV and the kids waved back.

“We have to get them home.” She sniffed pulling it together, it was a stupid charm, it wasn’t like someone had died, she berated herself.

“How about you hang here for a little bit and help Leon out while I go and grab a new car seat for Lily? Because we can’t take anything from the car and her seat is trashed.” He said softly.

She let her gaze drift over to the items already being bagged, spare shoes, sweaters, and Brendan’s hockey gear. “Leon? Can you open that bag real quick.” She asked pointing to Brendan’s gear.

“Paint in the bag too.” Leon said sharply.

“And his mask.” Sildie sighed, before another sob broke free.

“I’ll have another made love.” Gustaf said softly.

“It’s not the same.” She sniffed. “You had that made for him, your first gift to him. You have no idea what it means to him.”

“I know it’s not the same love.” He pulled her into a hug while Leon was trying his damnedest to wipe the paint off the teens hockey mask. “I might be able to take it back and get it cleaned and refinished. I’ll figure it out, I’ll fix it. Somehow I’ll fix it.” He kissed her temple and lingered, willing his system to calm down so in turn he could soothe hers. “Are we able to get this stuff back at some point?” He snapped at Holmberg and immediately regretted his tone. It wasn’t Leon’s fault, Gustaf was just on a razor thin edge.

“I’ll get them back to you as soon as I can.” The detective looked at Gustaf, yes, he thought, Leon was pissed too, good.

“Appreciate it.” He kissed Sildie softly. “Go sit with the kids a moment ok? I’ll get Lily a new seat and we can go from there ok?” She just nodded and walked to John’s car. The slump of her shoulders told him this had kicked her hard.

“I knew her brother.” Leon said quietly. “My wife was close friends with Dana. I’m doing everything I can Gustaf, but I have to stay within the confines of the law, so do you. Don’t go doing anything crazy, get a good attorney and take the spiteful bitch down.”

“Do me a favor.” Gustaf said bluntly. “Search Ana’a car real quick for that charm, or her pockets. The rest of this I can replace, that I can’t, and it will destroy Sildie if it stays missing.”

Leon nodded. “Go get Lily a car seat, I’ll look myself right now and call it in for when they process her at the station.”

“Thanks.” He huffed and scrubbed a hand over his face. As he started to walk away he turned. “I’m sorry, for snapping earlier.”

“Not necessary, I’d be a little snappy too considering the circumstances.” Leon said, a tight smile gracing his lips.

“Well regardless, I’m sorry. There was no need for it, you’re only trying to help.” He wasn’t that person anymore, to rage without reason, without sucking it up and apologizing like the man he was trying to be.

“All good.” Leon said, clasping a hand of Gustaf’s shoulder and squeezing it in support.

He knew he could be an insufferable prick when he put his mind to it or the rage swamped him, that wasn’t him anymore. “And that’s what you’re hoping for isn’t it you fucking bitch.” He muttered as he walked to the baby store across the street. “You’re hoping to get me so riled up I’ll snap. Well I’m way past that. Coming after me was one thing, going after Sildie was the biggest mistake you ever made. By the end of this you’re going to wish you’d never fucking met me.” He said with conviction.

She explained it as much as she dared to the boys, the plea in her eyes to Brendan to just go with it so she could explain more when they were away from the twins. His tight nod all she needed to have some measure of relief. She watched Gustaf walk back to his car and fit the new seat. This will destroy him, she thought, all that peace he’d found obliterated in the instant she’d phoned him. Destroying another life, just like she’d destroyed the boys. It was a spiral, she knew it was happening yet she was powerless to stop her thoughts diving so deeply out of control. It was all too much and she’d reached her tolerance level of bullshit.

She hopped out of the car as he approached and went to him.

“Load the kids up and head home, love. Take care of them and let me worry about all this ok?” He said gently, he would be her calm now as he knew she was far from done today. “You ok to drive?” A nod was all she could give him. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I need to get them home before Lily implodes.” She said trying her damndest to pull it together, she had shit to take care of not wallow in self pitty.

“I’ll stay here with Leon until the car’s towed and then go hire one for our vacation. I’ll send John back with you to help with the groceries ok?” He watched her carefully and was concerned.

She nodded and leaned her forehead against his chest, breathed him in, his scent soothing her jagged emotions.

“That’s it love. Breathe a minute. It’ll all be ok, you and me, we’ll fix it.” He murmured and stroked the nape of her neck tenderly.

She let herself just exist for a moment, collect the shred of composure she was clinging to and pulled it together. Drying her eyes she kissed him softly, the grief he felt already echoing in his eyes.

“There’s my girl.” He said softly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll be home a little later. Do you need me to send mum over, or dad? A sibling? I have plenty to spare.” His attempt at humor got the chuckle from her he was hoping for.

“No, I’ll be ok.” You won’t be, he thought, but nice try.

“I love you Sildie. Together love.” He kissed her tenderly.

“Love you too, not letting her win, it just knocked me a bit.” She sniffed.

“I know, me too, but we’ll knock back harder.” He kissed her brow and looked at her. “Come on, I’ll get Lily bear settled, because I can hear her starting to ramp up for a full on I’m tired and hungry meltdown.”

Gustaf helped her get the kids settled in the car, fielding questions from the twins as vaguely as possible. “Text me when you get home.” He said softly.

“I will.” Her voice was that eerie quiet he didn’t like. It only got like that when she retreated into herself and it killed him to see her like that.

She seemed to be on auto pilot as she drove home, aware enough to drive, but not really caring about what was happening around her. John helped her get the kids inside, the groceries for their trip piled on the counter. With the kids occupied she sat in her office, the process of writing notes about the incident clearing it out of her mind as the words appeared on paper. Gustaf’s text tone interrupted her asking if she’d got home and she swore, she’d forgotten to text him.

We’re home. I’m so sorry I zoned and totally forgot.

It’s ok love. You’re all home safe that’s what matters. I’m headed to hire a car, be home soon. Is John still there?

He left a little while ago but he said they have someone watching the building. He stayed until we were settled.

Ok, that’s good.

I love you.

Love you too lovely lady. I’ll be home soon.

He came home an hour or so later and could hear Sildie reaming someone on the other end of the phone in her office, door shut tightly.

“She’s been in there for nearly an hour.” Brendan said quietly.

“You know who she’s flaying?” He asked carefully and the kid shook his head.

“I haven’t seen her this mad since she yelled at grandma after mum and dad...” He stopped suddenly and shook his head not wanting to voice the rest of the sentence.

“Well she’s super upset about the car so I’m not surprised.” Gustaf said carefully, he wasn’t sure how much he should divulge.

“Why would someone do that?” Brendan asked as he walked with Gustaf to the kitchen out of the twins hearing.

“I don’t know B.” Gustaf sighed, he was beat to hell and he knew he’d have to talk Sildie down before she imploded. “The short version ok, because I’m beat to hell.” He scrubbed a hand over his face and tried to collect his thoughts. “It’s an ex girlfriend, the ex girlfriend, the one that screwed me up. They arrested her and things could get a little messy. Your mum has had to bust ass on making sure you guys are safe and it’s all just a little too much for her today.”

“Is that why we have John and Andrew come with us everywhere?” The kid was a quick study.

“Yes. I promised Sildie I’d keep you all safe too.”

“Oh.” The teen looked a little shocked.

“I love you guys, you’re my family Brendan and there’s absolutely nothing I won’t do to protect you, to make sure you’re safe, that Sildie’s safe.” He said softly as the teen hugged him tight. “Absolutely nothing.” His head came up at the sharp shout from Sildie’s office and he decided he needed to get in there and deal with it. “It’s getting late, you guys eaten yet?”

“Yeah we got something on the way home, there’s some here for you too. We weren’t sure when you’d get home.”

“Thanks. Can you get the twins in a bath or shower, I need to go see if she’s ok. Did the cold groceries get out away?”

“Yeah they’re away.” He said and started to unpack the rest.

@hausofobsession @ill-skillsgard @grandpa-sweaters @authentic90skidd @tuckersgirl @fairlyfallacy @flowers-in-your-hayr @raewritesfiction @stinkerbelle007 @kamie-b @mrsaugustwalker @skrsgardspam @loliwrites @trippedmetaldetector @lihikainanea @fay-walden @nandadb

#gustaf skarsgard #gustaf skarsgard fanfic #shattered lives

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lemonbarnes · 4 years

Text

Burnout

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced!Reader

Summary: As the first successful test subject, she’s learned how to live without being burned. Years later, her savior-turned-psycho is dead, yet someone has gotten a hold of the formula in an attempt to recreate the virus. She takes on the role of a self-imposed vigilante, but soon ends up working alongside the Avengers, and a certain hard headed brunette with luscious locks and a gleaming arm.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: arson, violence (that’s all i can think of, but if there’s anything else please let me know!)

Author’s Note: This is the first part of a series that I: 1) have not finished, 2) debated posting, and 3) am very anxious about posting. It’s coming together very slowly, but I wanted to post the first part and see if anyone is intrigued. Feedback is always welcome. Likes and reblogs are always very much appreciated!

Deep in the snow-covered forest of Norway is where Bucky finds himself, trudging through the impacted white powder with Steve and Sam. It’s only the beginning of November, and Bucky is sure he’s experienced colder, but the chill nips at his flesh nonetheless; settles in underneath his thick coat sleeves and pulls goosebumps to the surface. Perhaps it wasn’t just the cold; it was oddly quiet in this part of the forest. It should be teeming with wildlife, but Bucky has yet to hear anything other than the crunch of snow and their short breaths. The silence is deafening, but he welcomes it. Until…

“What exactly are we doing again?” Sam gripes, his breath creating his own personal cloud before dissipating into the chilly air. Bucky surveys the area, but only produces the same results he came up with five minutes ago – nothing but their presence and the trees that surround them from every angle. Steve doesn’t glance at Sam as he continues walking, also taking note of the lack of animals in the vicinity.

“We’re here to extract the girl and bring her back to the compound. Tony said the last time he saw someone with… talents like hers was when Pepper was taken by AIM. Thinks she might know something about that lab blowing up a couple weeks ago, before we got there.” It’s Bucky’s turn to huff. Why did they have to walk through the forest while the rest of the team huddled up on the warm quinjet miles away? Was it really necessary to trek the 134 miles into the woods to reach the cabin? Why was Tony so sure that this was where you settled down? His head snaps up and he sticks his hand out, simultaneously freezing in place while sticking a finger up to tell Steve and Sam to be quiet. “Do you hear that?” He whispers, so low that he’s not even sure Steve hears him at first.

The chorus of a soft song plays behind a softly crackling fire. A feminine voice reaches Bucky and Steve’s ears, quietly humming along to the tune. Either this chick wanted to be found or is an idiot, Bucky snorts to himself before quickly focusing his attention back on his teammates.

Steve motions for the two to move in closer. “Sam, get Redwing up. Get us an idea of what and who we’re dealing with. Just because we only hear one person right now doesn’t mean there aren’t more people in the cabin,” he takes a moment as the inconspicuous drone zips through the air.

Bucky can only describe the look on Sam’s face as perplexed at best. “What’s wrong, bird brain?” A glare is briefly sent his way by none other than Sam, before he returns to his previous state of confusion. “There’s only one human heat signature, but the temp it’s reading at isn’t possible. There’s no way,” his brow furrows. Steve and Bucky exchange an equally confused glance.

“What do you mean, Sam? What’s it reading at?” A moment of silence passes before Sam looks up from the mini monitor adorning his arm. “152 degrees, Cap,” Sam flashes his wrist at the super soldiers before lowering his arm. “Well, I guess Tony wasn’t far off, was he? A literal human inferno,” he mumbles under his breath as Redwing zooms back to its owner. Bucky only dignifies his statement with a concealed eye roll. “What’s the plan?”

“Alright, what do we know?” Tony paces at the front of the conference room, suit discarded for his spare set of clothes. One hand sits in the pocket of his track pants, while the other scratches his chin. Everyone else sits at the table, soot drenched suits still clinging to their bodies. “Killian’s dead. Hansen is dead. Extremis is extremely complex, but that doesn’t negate reason to believe that others have figured the virus out and are trying to recreate it,” Tony mumbles to himself, before stopping and placing his hands on the table firmly. “That facility blew up for a reason, whether good or bad is up to us to figure out.”

Everyone’s brow furrows at the mention of Extremis. “Extremis? I thought you took down AIM,” Natasha pipes up, eyes narrowing in disbelief.

A heavy sigh leaves Tony’s mouth before he sits and runs his hands down his face. “Yeah, I thought so too. Wannabes, maybe trying to replicate the virus. I don’t know. They were close, though. I saw it in one of the labs before it blew up.”

“I’m sorry, but can someone fill the rest of us in?” Sam looks exasperated. “What the hell is Extremis?”

Extremis, he learns, is its own super soldier-like serum. “It’s a virus that rewrites DNA to manipulate the part of the brain that is in charge of reparations and stimulate growth at inhuman speeds. I’m talking ‘cut off an arm and literally watch it grow back’ fast,” Bruce now stands at the front of the table, filling everyone else in. “AIM would mainly recruit veterans who had lost limbs or had severe psychological trauma and inject them with the virus. However, Extremis is very unstable, and most if not all of the people who were infected with it blew themselves up and died. Of course, with the exception of Tony and Pepper. Tony found a way to stabilize it enough that Pep doesn’t have any side effects of it,” Bruce finishes before glancing Tony’s way.

It’s Wanda’s turn to ask, “So… We think that someone is trying to emulate Extremis? If they know it’s so unstable, then why bother?” Tony bites the frame of his glasses before putting them back on and sitting back in his chair, fingers now scratching at his greying beard. “Human bombs. Life-sized, 3000 degree, exploding, unstable bombs that disintegrate anything within a 12.5 yard radius of them and damn near destroy anything else beyond that radius. They’re not trying to create super soldiers, they’re trying to blow things up.

“Up until now, we figured there weren’t any survivors of AIM’s experiment, but now? Now, I’m not so sure. We can assume that either Hydra got a hold of the formula or that someone is trying to dig AIM up from its grave and bring it back to life. What did concern me was this,” Tony brings up a hologram image of a woman running from the lab mid-explosion, skin and eyes tinged a fiery orange. “Whoever it is has the virus. Realistically there’s no way we can bring her in. She’ll melt through any form of handcuffs we try, burn through any kind of straight jacket we try. Hell, she’d probably be able to burn through the floor of the quinjet if she wanted to.”

Bruce lights up as he sits straighter. “Not necessarily. We could find someone to make us equipment out of tungsten. She would explode before she melted them off. It’s a little brittle, but nothing we can’t work with. And we could try out that sedation serum we’ve been working on. Load it into some small vials that Clint could shoot.”

Steve leans forward against the table, shield now at his side. Natasha shakes her head before speaking, exhaustion heavy in her voice. “Say we do bring her in. Then what? Recruit her? Lock her up for the rest of her life? We have to be realistic about the consequences of this, Tony. If she’s really as dangerous as you say she is, then we need to proceed with extreme caution.” Steve’s furrowed brow matches that of Bucky’s and Sam’s, who have both been virtually silent the whole meeting, save for Sam’s question.

“Why don’t we all go take a hot shower and clean up and reconvene in the morning? We’re all exhausted. Dirty. Let’s worry about this tomorrow,” Steve mutters before standing up with his shield in his hand and stalking out of the room, everyone else soon following suit.

The crackling fire was the only noise permeating the air, save for the quiet murmur of the radio and occasional hums that slipped from your lips. “I want to swim away, but don’t know how. Sometimes it feels just like I’m falling in the ocean,” your quiet voice rang, travelling through the empty woods while the large log you leaned against dug into your skin. Hazy shades of orange paint strokes blended together to paint the sky as the sun patiently rose from behind the trees. It was beautiful, something you didn’t think you could ever get used to experiencing.

You were lonely after the destruction of AIM. Not that you weren't grateful to be free, but sometimes you wished you could just be around someone, even if that someone wanted to destroy and conquer the world, and consequently, ruin your life. Does that make me a bad person? You shake your head gently, a sad smile slowly covering your face as you shoot a glance back at the cabin you’d been hiding in for the last three months.

The cabin, when you first found it, sat deep in the woods, untouched for what you could only guess had been decades. Layers of thick dust and spiderwebs decorated corners and furniture alike. It’ll have to do for now, you had thought to yourself. Over the course of the next couple of months, though, you grew to adore the little cabin and all its quirks. The creak of the fourth stair, the slight slant of the kitchen counter that causes the fruit to roll, even the stupid, (newly) broken singing sea bass that hung on the wall of the small living room (there may be a bullet hole or two through it and the wall behind it, but it’s not like you asked it to turn on while you were making lunch and scare the living daylights out of you).

An almost nonexistent mechanical hum pulled you from your thoughts as you glanced up. A frown settles on your face as you stood slowly, watching a drone hover over the cabin before racing back in the direction it came from. Quickly, you leapt over the log and sprinted stealthily into the house, shutting the doors and locking it. Whoever owned it knew you were there, if not from the drone footage, but from the steady fire burning outside.

You paced before opening the bottom cabinet next to the oven and pulling out a small handgun and a couple throwing knives, checking that the gun was loaded. Stairs were climbed two at a time in order to reach the small linen closet, where you pulled out a little jewelry box hidden behind thick blankets and emptied the contents in your palm, before sticking the small rectangular item into the side of your boot and securing it (pant pockets are too obvious, duh).

Stepping into the master bedroom, you dared a peak out of the window that looked over the fire you were previously enjoying. Three figures stood at the perimeter of the property, poorly hidden by a few trees from Y/N’s angle. Maybe they’re just hikers. You’ve seen plenty of them, yeah? Just passing through, is what you tried to tell yourself but a second glance out the window quickly shut those thoughts down as you noted that none of the men were hidden amongst the trees anymore. Instead, they were stalking toward the house, but traveling in different directions almost as if to surround you. All clad in some form of tactical gear, one holding a round shield, one in all black with a gleaming left arm, and the last with what looked like a jetpack on his back.

A silent string of curses left your lips as you stalked down the mini hallway and peaked over the banister. You crouched and listened, calming your heartbeat. You would die before ever going back to working for AIM. A knock to the front door bounced off the walls.

“Hello? We’re not here to hurt you. We just think you might’ve been in the wrong place at the wrong time and want to ask you a few questions.” Although muffled by the door, Y/N can hear the demand clear as day. Wrong place, wrong time my ass.

“Steve, this isn’t an interrogation. We want her to come back willingly. You’re gonna scare her off,” Someone pipes up from the side of the house. A furrowed brow replaces the sour look on your face. What the hell? You also hear a “fuck it,” before the back door lock is picked and quietly swung open. “You were supposed to wait for my go-ahead, Buck,” a different voice mumbles, heavy steps causing the floor downstairs to groan.

Waddling over to the bedroom quietly while crouched proves to be a little more difficult than you anticipated, but you do it in record time and shuts the door quietly. A simple thwack sounds as you unlatch the window and open it, peering down at the ground. You’d survive the jump, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt any less. You land with a soft thud and pray that the three burly men in the cabin don’t hear the sound. Pressing glowing hands to the side of the house, they, along with you eyes, begin to emit a warmth that spreads from your palms to your fingertips and seconds later the wood under ignites as little flames lick the spots. You take your opportunity to flee into the woods but don't get very far before a giant metal frisbee-like object lodges itself into the tree next to your head. Your feet stumble, but you quickly regain balance before pushing yourself from a jog to a full on sprint. What you didn’t expect was to be tackled from the side.

Rolling to a stop, you’re covered by a hefty build sporting a pair of metal wings. “Let me go!” you screams, before grabbing the arm of your attacker and heating up your skin, consequently burning whoever had you pinned. The groan he let out was enough for you to catch him off guard again, bringing a knee up between his legs harshly and pushing him off before scrambling to break into another sprint.

A hand wrapped around your ankle proved to stop you in your tracks, literally. Dragging you down, you kick your other foot in hopes of hitting something while frantically searching yourself for your gun. All you come up with is a knife, but it’ll have to do, you think. Sitting up and shoving the knife in between the plates of the wings, Y/N twists it roughly as it disables the pack on the man’s back before stomping your free foot into his shoulder. A revolting pop sounds and this time you don’t waste a second in finding your footing, but find yourself stunted from another chance at running when the sight of two brawny men stand in front of you. Your whole body glows ominously, frustration kicking in.

“We’re not here to hurt you. Please,” the one with the shield steps forward tentatively. “My name is Steve, Steve Rogers.” You go to take a step back but find the menacing man who tackled you behind you.

Tears build in your eyes, but evaporate from your internal heat before they can reach your cheeks. “I know who you are,” you snarl, the glow growing brighter as time ticked by. A mechanical hum fills your ears again, but heavier than the drone you saw earlier. A quick glance toward the empty sky leaves you bemused, though.

“Cap, stand down. her internal temp is rising. She’ll explode herself before she lets us take her in,” Tony’s voice rings in their ears, but Bucky surprises himself by taking a step forward. “Buck--” Steve starts, but doesn’t finish as he watches Bucky drop his weapons on the ground.

“Let us help you. We aren’t here to hurt you. We need your help,” he takes another small step forward, noticing the flicker in you glow. “Let me help you. I know what it’s like to be cornered. To be used for other’s personal gains. To be so close to the edge of self destruction that there don’t seem to be any other options,” another step, “but you don’t have to go down that path. Help us help you.” All the while, you glow slowly diminishes to a soft orange.

Eyes blink wildly, glancing between the three of the men. “You don’t know me. You don’t know shit,” you breath trembles, before you steels you gaze and stiffens you posture. “I’m not some science experiment you guys get to play with!” you cry out, flinging two knives. One hits Bucky square in the left shoulder, while the other hits Steve in the abdomen. You go to take off, hearing a wheeze and a grunt of, “back up, we need back up” followed by “Barton, now!” and heavy footsteps falling behind you.

Before you get very far, a shooting pain blossoms from your shoulder before a sudden wave of fatigue runs through your body, slowing your steps until you can barely walk. The trees in front of your face double and the hand you stretch out to lean against a tree misses, leaving you lying in a pile of pine needles and dirt before everything went black.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #Steve Rogers #tony stark #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #sam wilson #clint barton #Avengers #Winter Soldier #captain america #the falcon #Iron Man #hawkeye #Black Widow #hulk #wanda maximoff #bucky barnes fanfiction

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science-lings · 4 years

Note

Hey I saw you were asking for prompts/AUs, so I thought I'd send one in! Could you write an Irondad Foster Kid Peter and Foster Parent Tony AU? Lots of hurt/comfort or fluff?

There were few things that motivated Tony more than the need to become better. Better than he was, better than he was treated, good enough to deserve the praise that he was given so freely. Normally he wouldn’t even consider becoming a father. He felt as though he was doomed to repeat his own father’s sins. His heart always sunk when someone told him how similar he was to his late father. There was no one he hated being compared to more. Well, that wasn’t quite true, he also hated being compared to Captain America when he was a kid. Still, Tony’s father wasn’t exactly his hero.

It started when he began to visit orphanages when he couldn’t sleep, restricting himself to rocking babies, and occasionally when he was left alone with them, he sang lullabies. He liked the feeling of helping someone, a very small someone who didn’t know who he was or that he was important. He liked it when they fell asleep in his arms.

That expanded to him telling stories to older kids on days that he had time. He found himself buying hundreds of picture books to read to them, starting out slightly awkward and flippant but turning more animated and dramatic as he discovered which voices made the kids laugh.

When he ran out of books to read and songs to sing, he created his own. Making up stories of heroes and bad guys, the kids loved those ones. Full of epic battles and cameos from the other avengers, when he wanted to switch it up he told the stories in different settings. He portrayed himself as a golden king with a dragon, fighting monsters with his knight friends for his kingdom, as a zombie killing ninja trying to find a cure for the zombie plague, and when requested, he was a Jedi knight fighting Darth Vader.

Sometimes the kids asked dumb questions about the story, and sometimes they’d ask very smart questions phrased only in the strange way that only a child can.

Over the years, Tony got closer to the kids, but one in particular really piqued his interest. The boy was one of the oldest there, almost fourteen. He was very quiet and almost crazy smart. Tony didn’t know how smart a junior high student was supposed to be but it was nowhere near this kid was. He loved science books and any high tech Tony brought near him. There were almost visible stars in his eyes when he got to see the Iron Man suit up close.

Tony never wanted to be a father but this nerdy kid, Peter, was really tugging at his heartstrings in a way that he had never really experienced. Not many kids could sit through his purposefully complicated explanation of the arc reactor but Peter did so with such enthusiasm that he couldn’t help but dig the old one out of storage to show it off.

He learned about Peter, that his parents died when he was six and he was taken in by his uncle and aunt, who also died a few years after. That he used to wear glasses but had grown out of them, that he had always wanted to be a hero like Iron Man. Tony made sure to mention to the kid that being a hero is not as great as it looks on TV and Peter just looked at him and whispered that he knew. Tony had a weird feeling when he said that. It was too understanding.

Pepper had suggested it, after hearing him talk about the kid for weeks and seeing him look pensive at the sight of alcohol and become more responsible instead of pretending to be a larger than life celebrity that the world saw him as. She could tell that he was ready.

It took a lot of paperwork and time but eventually Tony was able to become a foster parent for Peter. Tony wasn’t sure if it would be a good idea to go as far as to adopt the kid, he knew that there would be someone better for him out there that knew more about actual parenting but at least he was extremely well off and had the stability that would be very helpful for a genius child. The closest he had to a parenting guide was a mental list of Howard's behaviors and a promise to himself that he would do the exact opposite.

The adjustment period was weird, neither of them really knew how to act but after enough movie nights and long periods of time in Tony’s lab, they got used to their new normal. They just fit together like perfectly placed gears, they understood each other so well. Sure, Tony wasn’t the perfect dad-figure, but he tried so hard and cared so much. He did his best and he truly knew Peter like he was his own kid.

This was why he knew exactly when something was wrong. Peter came home bruised, he would try to start a conversation as if it were something important then chicken out after bringing it up. He would sneak into the lab when he knew Tony was busy and spend whole afternoons after school “with friends” even though Tony was fully aware that there was only one of those.

At first Tony thought that Peter was getting bullied. But the pieces didn’t quite fit, so he decided to confront Peter about it.

It was late, Peter had tried to hide a limp when he got to the penthouse like he had twisted his ankle and was treating it as gently as possible. Tony was waiting for him. Peter looked at him nervously before trying to shuffle to his room.

“You know kid, I’m trying to give you your privacy and all but I’m really starting to get worried about you.” Tony held out Twix bar like an olive branch. An offering of sorts.

“I’m fine... is this about P.E.? You know I’m trying to get my grade up...” Peter took the candy bar and sat down carefully next to his foster father, still trying to hide whatever was hurting him.

“No, no. I’m not worried about school for you, You’re probably as smart as I was at your age and you actually care about your education. No, I’m worried about you. I want to know what’s going on with you. Are you being bullied? Is someone hurting you? Did you try to kick a steel pillar? What?” Peter seemed to go a little pale and he was quiet for a minute. Tony just waited for any sort of reply.

“I uh...” Peter started after a long pause, “Can you promise that you won’t be mad.” Tony thought for a moment of his own father's outbursts of rage when he wasn’t perfect when he didn’t live up to Howard's astronomical expectations.

“I don’t think I could ever truly be mad at you Pete. You could probably kill someone and I trust you enough to realize that they deserved it somehow and take you to therapy or something. Being angry never really helps anyone, I mean aside from Bruce Banner, he has some benefits from being angry once in a while.” He saw Peter sigh in relief.

“I... I’ve been lying to you. I’m not who you think I am.” He said quietly.

“What, are you like a jock or something. Do you play basketball and want to audition for a musical? I think you would be pretty good in a musical.” This caused Peter to crack a little smile but normally he would laugh at a joke like that. Tony realized that this might actually be serious.

“No, I’m not Troy Bolton, I... something happened to me a while ago. I know it sounds crazy but I-got-superpowers-from a-radioactive-spider-and-I-kinda-became-a-small-time-vigilante-that-thwarts-like-bank-thieves-and-creepy-dudes-that-stalk-women.” He said the last part quickly like if he said it fast enough Tony wouldn’t completely process the information or not hear it completely. Tony did in fact hear all of the information.

“You know... that’s not what I thought you’d say but I’d be lying if I said that I was completely surprised by the fact that when you gained superpowers you immediately turned to helping people,” Tony said after a few seconds of processing what had been revealed. “I do think you need to reevaluate my standards for crazy because I work with spies and a Norse god and a guy that survived being frozen and patriotic for seventy years and that isn’t even it. Out of weirdness standards, spider super-kids are not even in the top five. I mean we had an alien invasion not too long ago this world is full of weird shit. Don’t tell Pepper that I said a bad word in front of you...”

“Yeah and I think I broke my leg.”

“WHAT!”

#Disclaimer: I have no idea how the foster system or orphanages work #or anything tbh #send me prompts!#ask gay #writing prompt #my writing #my drabble #joyful-soul-collector

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