#and tried to keep the momentum by watching season 2. and then had to stop four episodes in because i literally will not watch the ones where

[livvyofthelake]

god i need to watch shadowhunters season three. i’m out here reblogging gifs of scenes i don’t remember watching or possibly straight up did not watch. i never saw the last like two episodes. if i could just get over the need to rewatch the whole show before rewatching season three this would be so easy.

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GHOSTS | Julie and the Phantoms - Part One

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: Gah… I'm such a procrastinating butterfly. I should be writing my Billy Russo series which I'm so excited about, but I just want to be able to read it already instead of having to write first + I'm currently writing each and every chapter instead of the next one (struggles of a fanfiction writer - am I right?). So, what do I do instead? I flew from one of my obsessions to another and got inspired by this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial​ prompt. 

Anyways... This fic will be a little to late for some of you guys, but still: Merry Christmas everyone! And if you do not celebrate Christmas I still hope you have a wonderful day and a rest of the year filled with love and happiness. You did it, you fought through it. I’m sure you had your own pair of himbo ghosts taking care of you.

word count: ~ 1k

summary (and basically background info): Y/N is Julie's & Flynn's friend who doesn’t know about the ghosts (let’s just say she believes that they’re holograms). The boys become attached to Y/N due to her kindness and positivity and do everything in their (ghostly) powers to keep her days sunny and bright, especially in winter.  Or: Two times Y/N is oblivious to the boys 'paranormal' activities and the one time she notices it

prompt: Comfort in the Cold by @flashfictionfridayofficial​

warnings: english is not my first language, therefore, typos

| Part Two | Part Three |

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#1: Luke

Slowly and quietly you made your way down the stairs of the Molina household, leaving Julie's and Flynn's sleeping forms behind. Even though you had just watched multiple Christmas movies and probably eaten double your weight in popcorn, your stomach was still asking for more. As Julie knew about your habits of needing a midnight snack and since Ray repeatedly told you to make yourself at home you weren't feeling bad about stealing some small bits and pieces out of their fridge or cupboards.

Which is why you were straining your ears to hear any sounds that might indicate that you had woken up either Carlos or Ray, but you were only met with silence. Releasing the breath you were holding you hastily hopped down the last few steps down to the living room, grabbed the stair railing and used the momentum of your movement to swiftly swing yourself in the direction of the kitchen, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2 a.m. and the continuous silence indicated that nobody except you was awake and around. Yet, as you hesitantly took a view steps towards the kitchen counter, pulling your blanket like a shield tighter around your body, there was a perfectly fine peanut-butter/jelly sandwich waiting for you, a smiley made out of Nutella painted onto it. Your favourite midnight snack.

A small note peaked out from under the plate and it took you some time to decipher the chicken scratch. Can't have our favourite groupie going to bed hungry! 

Smiling and shaking your head, thinking that either Julie or Flynn must have sneaked out of the room sometime earlier to make you this sandwich you happily bit into it. 

If you'd known that there was a brown-haired ghost with hazel eyes sitting opposite to you and watching you with a smile, the sandwich would have probably gotten stuck in your throat.

#2: Alex 

Doing multiple Christmas movie marathons would be fun they said. No need to worry they said. Only Christmas cheer and joy they said. Well… long story short, even fun movies can make you bawl like a baby! 

A few days after the midnight snack incident, which you completely forgot about, you were once again sitting on Julie's bed. With her and Flynn to your left and right, you had been watching different movies on her computer. Currently, however, you were only trying. Tears were blurring your vision and your sniffles were the only sounds reaching your ear. 

Pressing the plushy's soul that Flynn had won you at a fair out of its body and sobbing into it, you felt Julie shift beside you and lay her head in your lap and mumbling something while Flynn was searching for a handkerchief.

"Whose idea was it again to watch this movie?" you tried to ask, but your voice came out all thick and full of emotion, so you weren't sure if they understood or heard you at all.

What you didn't know was that the boys were watching the movie, and now mostly you, with big eyes.

"Remember the day when Julie was crying in the garage and then Flynn came in crying too? Remember how I said that two girls crying are worse than one girl crying? This… this is way worse!" Luke pointed exaggeratedly at every single one of you and moved quickly out of Flynn's way when she left the room to get a box of tissues. 

"Dude… they're not actually crying crying. It's just a really sad movie," Alex said and sighed quietly when he heard Reggie whisper, "Do you think that's what Willie meant when he said Caleb floods the place during movie night?"

"That's... no, okay." Shaking his head Alex moved towards the bed and sat carefully at Flynn's place to not alert you of the shift beside you. Then he gently took a paw of the plushy that you weren't currently pressing into an embrace and lifted it to wipe away your tears and free your sight. 

You sniffled, too confused and full of emotion to realize what just happened and that it couldn't possibly have been Julie or Flynn, and whispered a small, "Thank you". 

Alex smiled, proud of his action.

#3: Reggie

You didn't even bother to take off your shoes or wipe away the residual snow still sticking to your hair as you flopped yourself down onto your bed, groaning into your pillow. Everything was already grey, wet or at least soggy anyway. To say your day had been bad was an understatement.

It's the most wonderful time of the year With the kids jingle belling And everyone telling you be of good cheer It's the most wonderful time of the year

Confused you lifted your head and starred at your computer who apparently decided to become sentient and cheer you up.

It's the hap-happiest season of all With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings When friends come to call It's the hap-happiest season of all

The next thing that happened would forever be burned into your brain. Your favourite pen suddenly lifted itself up into the air and started to scribble down onto a nearby paper. Slowly and unsure you stood up and inched closer to your desk, but as soon as you were able to sneak a peak onto the paper the pen stopped and fell down.

Shaking your head you rubbed your eyes and turned back to your bed. "This is the weirdest lucid dream I ever had." The moment you flopped back down onto your bed you heard the familiar scratching of pen on paper again. Turning your head there it was again - the floating pen. "What?"

However, once again, as soon as you reached the desk the pen fell down, lifeless. “Alright... alright. I understand! Don’t worry, I won’t sneak a peak.”

"I am dreaming... right?" You weren't. Pinching yourself hurt, trying to breathe through a closed nose didn't work and your pointer finger would not move through the palm of your hand.

Shakily, yet weirdly motivated by the happy Christmas music still playing in the background, you picked up the note laying beside the now still pen. "Merry Christmas Y/N! Lots of love from Reggie, Alex and… Who?" 

"It told you, Luke… I should just have signed for us all."

"Shut it Reg, I know my handwriting sucks."

[justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms]

Hi! Can I request a levi x blonde!reader? maybe something fluffy like him asking you out for the first time or confessing? thanks! have a lovely day!

Of course! Thanks for sending this in, I've been waiting to write something with Levi. This takes place around Season 1 or 2. I hope you enjoy it!

Fandom: Attack on Titan

Characters: Levi Ackerman x gn! blond! Reader

Word Count: 0.7k (781 words)

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Levi has been admiring you for a while now and he's decided it's time to confess and ask you out.

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The day was warm but a cool breeze kept the sting out of the sun. As it blew over the wall and through the streets, it tousled (y/n)’s blonde hair.

Levi watched it as it shimmered in the light. It seemed to draw the sun down to earth but somehow made the real sun seem dull in comparison.

He sighed. There really was no way around it. No way of escaping from what he now knew was true.

He had tried ignoring them. They were a Captain and Erwin kept insisting that they were together on missions.

He had tried insulting them so that they would avoid him (and hopefully complain to Erwin so that he would stop putting them on missions together). They had gone to Erwin but only because they were worried that there was something wrong with Levi. And Erwin had started pairing them up for missions even more than before.

He had tried denying his feelings. That just made him feel like a horrible person who had a hole in his life.

So, he was now left with a simple truth.

He loved (y/n).

And he would have to do something about it.

Contrary to popular belief, when Levi knew he cared for someone as truly as he cared for (y/n), he wouldn’t just stand back and not let them know of his feelings. Life was too short to let someone like that walk by.

So today was the day.

(y/n) was training with the other members of their squad. A few had just barely scraped by in their 3DMG training so (y/n) was making sure their chance of dying when they finally fought titans was lowered.

Levi made his way over to them, dodging as one of the squad members tipped forward, over corrected, and fell backward on the 3DMG training equipment.

‘Ah, Tara! Make sure you don’t over compensate next time. If your falling forward just make a small adjustment.’ (y/n) corrected, walking over to the girl who was now sprawled on the ground.

‘I’m trying but-’ The girl, Tara, had caught sight of Levi approaching and seemed to be mute with awe.

(y/n) turned around and, when they saw Levi standing there, their face broke into a smile. They turned back to their squad.

‘Keep training. I’ll be back in just a minute.’

Together, they walked away from the training equipment. Levi turned to face them.

Titans were easier than this.

Their hair was distracting him again. Golden as the beaches that boy from the 104th was always talking about were supposed to be.

‘What’s up?’

Their smile was gone. Clearly they thought there was something wrong. Levi shook himself out of his thoughts and took a breath to steel himself.

‘I need to tell you something. Please know that if you don’t feel the same way, it won’t affect missions.’

Levi saw a spark of something in (y/n)’s eyes. But he plunged on before he could lose momentum. ‘I love you.’

Just like everything else about Levi, it was to the point. He had spent time thinking about how to confess his feelings but ultimately decided that the best way was to just tell them simply and truthfully.

There was a pause.

Then (y/n)’s smile returned in full force. They threw their arms around his neck and pressed their face into his shoulder.

‘I’m so glad my feelings aren’t unrequited.’ They said, their voice soft but close enough to his ear that he could hear every word.

Lev allowed a small smile to creep onto his face. He didn’t often have a lot to smile about but this was something to be happy about.

He pulled back from the hug. 'Tonight. You know the tavern near the courtyard that all the soldiers go to after missions?'

(y/n) nodded.

'Meet me there tonight. Just after the sun goes down'

'Alright.' (y/n)'s smile looked like it would be hurting their cheeks.

Another loud thud came from the training equipment as Tara fell again.

(y/n) sighed. 'I have to get back. Otherwise she'll never get better.'

Levi nodded and, as they walked back to their squad, he allowed himself to once more be captivated by the shimmering beauty of their golden hair.

~

Erwin watched the new couple from a window. He had known about Levi’s feelings for (y/n) long before Levi himself knew.

He was glad Levi had finally made a move. It was getting exhausting watching the two orbit around each other, denying their feelings.

There was just one thing that still puzzled him.

How did Levi not catch on that Erwin was pairing them up on missions on purpose to get them together?

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Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

ko-fi.com/justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms

Important Note: Please only donate if you are financially able to. If you are currently in a position where you can't donate, a like, comment, or reblog will mean just as much.

[seagreen-meets-grey]

When Lightning Strikes Ch. 19

When your life is nothing but a cloudless sky, lightning can come and strike you so unexpectedly, you won’t even know what hit you.

Or: When Hiccup and Astrid meet, it is as if lightning strikes.

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6] [Chapter 7] [Chapter 8] [Chapter 9] [Chapter 10] [Chapter 11] [Chapter 12] [Chapter 13] [Chapter 14] [Chapter 15] [Chapter 16] [Chapter 17] [Chapter 18] [Chapter 20]

Crossposted on ao3 and ff.net

_______________

Hiccup first brought it up on a sunny afternoon in mid-July, one year after that fateful rainy Sunday.

It was a Friday and Astrid’s parents had invited them over for a barbecue. They were both still at work, but Astrid and Hiccup were already at the house and had prepared the food. There was a green salad waiting in the kitchen, the meat was seasoned on a covered plate in the fridge, herb bread was ready to be gratinated in the oven and drinks were cooling in the minibar.

While rifling through the closet for napkins, Astrid had found an old bag of water balloons and, unbeknownst to Hiccup, had filled them in the sink before she’d attacked him in the garden. He’d just arranged the garden furniture and wiped the table with a damp cloth when something cold and wet had exploded all over his back, followed by the hearty laugh of his girlfriend.

“Hey, that’s not fair, I’m unarmed!”

She rolled a handful of balloons over the table and he had to be careful to catch all of them before they fell to the ground and burst all over his feet. He made a show of fumbling with his ammo, catching her off-guard when he suddenly hurled one right at her. It exploded on her chest and while she was momentarily distracted, he escaped from her immediate attack zone.

In no time, they were out of ammunition, with large water stains all over their clothes. Balloon shreds were scattered all over the lawn, some had hit the house wall and there was a wet imprint of a water explosion on one of the living room windows.

But Astrid was in no way done with their water fight, despite her dripping hair and wet left butt cheek. From the garage, she produced two dusty Nerf Blasters, and the battle carried on. The chairs and table were converted into shields and hiding spots, the water faucet was a safe zone to fill up on ammo, and the hammock was off-limits.

After Hiccup accidentally shot a blast in her face, she dropped her gun and wiped at her eyes. He rushed over. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you okay?”

As soon as he was right in front of her, she made a grab for his Blaster, picked up her own in lightning speed, and pointed both of them at him. “Gotcha. I win.”

“Oh, you!” He tackled her and when they stumbled a few steps backwards, he steered them right into the hammock. Swinging back and forth from the momentum, he pinned her down and started tickling her sides. She writhed underneath him, tried to kick him, but it wasn’t that easy in a hammock. Tears from laughter were gathering in her eyes until, finally, she managed to free a hand and attempted to push him out of the hammock. “Okay, okay,” he relented and rolled off of her.

A light breeze was rustling through the leaves of the apple and plum trees above. Catching their breaths, they made themselves comfortable, gazing at the bright blue sky through a sea of green. The breeze was brushing through their wet clothes, providing a nice change to the summer heat.

He moved his head to the side, watching the game of cat and mouse that sunlight and shade were playing on her face. When the hammock came to a stop, she stuck one leg out to lightly kick at the ground. “Hey,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm?”

“Do you ever want to get married again?” Her eyes widened slightly as she looked back at him. “Just a general question,” he quickly added. “I’m- I’m not proposing.”

“Yeah, I know. I just…” She wrinkled her forehead, focusing back on the ceiling of leaves. “I’m not sure. I once thought getting married was the right idea and now I’m divorced.” She glanced back at him. “I’m not saying things aren’t different this time. But I don’t know if I want to go through that again.”

For a while, he was quiet, fiddling with a loose thread on her top. He understood what she meant. Maybe it had been a bit too early to ask, anyway, even as a general question. It had only been a little over a year. That didn’t mean his stomach didn’t make a traitorous drop, though.

“That’s okay.” He reached out and played with a strand of her hair, twirling it between his fingers. “As long as I get to be with you, labels don’t matter, anyway.”

“Good.” She kissed him. “Because that’s all I need.” Then she produced a water balloon out of nowhere, probably a stray one that had rolled off earlier, and held it in a threatening way over his head. “Get merked, Hiccup!” He had just enough time to jump out of the hammock before the bomb hit and doused him. The game was back on.

Not much later, a car pulled into the driveway and soon enough, Frederick Hofferson stepped onto the patio. Astrid immediately hid behind him, using him as a human shield. Hiccup just about managed to hold back his throw. The last thing he wanted to do was shoot his girlfriend’s father with a large water gun. Especially since he felt like the man was still not quite used to him, still regarding him as the guy that ended her daughter’s marriage.

“I’m not a part of this!” Frederick shouted and ducked out of the way. While Hiccup was still mindful of the splash area of his projectiles, Astrid had no such reservations. She took her Nerf Blaster apart, dashed over and emptied the small water tank over his head. It seemed the winner was obvious this time, but he would get his revenge soon enough.

The warm weather had dried most of his clothes by the time the first steaks were ready. Frederick offered him to trade places so Hiccup could take over with the meat, but he declined. It was obvious the man was in his element. Astrid leaned over and whispered, “I think he’s trying to bond with you. He’s looking for shared interests.”

“Really?” he whispered back. “That’s great, but I’m really not interested in barbecuing techniques.”

She shrugged. “Then find something else to talk about. He’s finally making an effort. We shouldn’t let that go to waste.”

Hiccup nodded and wracked his brain for a topic to strike up a conversation with Frederick about. He’d never really been alone with the man so far, there had always been at least one other person present to save them from any awkward interactions.

He was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t catch Wilma’s announcement about the party. She and her husband would soon have their 25th wedding anniversary and wanted to celebrate it with family and friends. Hiccup was naturally invited but, after a quick check with Astrid, so was Eret. After all those years he’d been considered part of the Hofferson family, and considering he and Astrid were still on such good terms, Astrid’s parents wanted him to be there with them.

Astrid sent him a sidelong glance, asking with her eyes if he was okay with that. He sent back an answer of, Do I have a choice here?

I can talk to him and ask him not to come, she offered.

He shook his head. No, that’s stupid. We’re adults. I’m okay with him coming. He’s family.

Well, she raised her brows, if you’re sure…

“…no, I don’t think she’s listening. Astrid!”

She looked up. “Sorry, what?”

Frederick chuckled. “Your mother just asked you whether you could help her carry the dishes into the kitchen.”

“Oh, sure, yeah. Of course.” She got up and started collecting the plates, sending Hiccup a conspiratorial smile before she followed her mother into the house. That left him at the table with Frederick.

For several minutes, they busied themselves with their beers and the last pieces of bread still on the table. From inside the house, voices and the clattering of dishes carried over, not quite loudly enough to provide sufficient white noise and deeming a conversation between the two men necessary to drown out the awkwardness settling over them like heavy snow.

Whatever you do, Hiccup firmly told himself, just don’t talk about the weather. Really, anything but that. Or sex. Especially with his daughter. He gulped down the rest of his beer, looking anywhere but at Frederick, infinitely glad that mind-reading wasn’t a thing.

His fingers drummed on the legs of his chair and he couldn’t sit still, shifting around, accidentally bumping his knee against the underside of the table, grimacing through the pain. He was just about to jump up and flee into the house when Frederick spoke.

“So,” he started, leaning forward a little, “I’ve always meant to ask…”

Please don’t be an embarrassing question, Hiccup mentally prayed. “Yes?”

“What exactly is it that you do at your job?” Oh, thank god. Hiccup exhaled. “Astrid mentioned it a couple times, but I never really caught it.”

“Ah, well, I illustrate uh, books?” Why had that come out as a question? “Yeah, um… Mostly covers and artwork for fantasy novels, and I’ve done some children’s books… Uh. Do you like to read?”

“The newspaper.”

“Oh. Yeah, I don’t do that. Illustrate that, I mean. I do read it, though!” Please come back, he mentally cried, hoping Astrid would pick up the brain waves. The other man just nodded and another silence engulfed the table. Hiccup continued drumming on the chair. When Astrid had met his parents, she’d immediately gotten along with them, especially with his dad. Why couldn’t he do the same with hers?

“I’m not very artistic myself,” Frederick continued in an attempt to keep the conversation going. He really was trying.

“You’re a construction engineer, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t you need a certain level of artistic ability for that, too? Designing constructions is still designing, after all.”

Frederick shrugged. “Sure, I can think up construction plans and put them neatly on paper, but I could never draw, say, a dragon. I just don’t have the imagination or patience or creativity.”

“I’d argue you are creative. Where else would you get ideas for constructions from?”

“Well, if you put it like that… Maybe you’re right.”

Hiccup felt a surge of confidence. They were having a conversation and Frederick was agreeing with him. “When I was little, I always wanted to become an engineer. I had a whole room full of Lego Technic stuff and I would spend entire days building, taking apart, and rebuilding all kinds of machines.”

Frederick raised his head in interest. “What changed your mind?”

“Nothing, actually.” He scratched his neck. “There was this engineering school I wanted to go to, but they were full the year I wanted to start. And instead of applying somewhere else, I took their offer to start the next year. In the meantime, I enrolled in a number of illustration courses and liked it so much that I stayed.”

“Do you ever regret it?”

“No, I don’t.” He didn’t even have to think about it. “I love my job. And, well… Through a chain of events it’s what’s led me here.” Frederick gave him a quizzical look. “I mean, uh, my friend and colleague Fishlegs, he… Um, long story short, he introduced me to my ex-girlfriend. And she has a brother who has this best friend and… Ah, you see, this best friend had a fiancée…”

An understanding light went on behind Frederick’s eyes. Nervously, Hiccup waited for the reaction that told him the other man wasn’t very amused by the story, taking into account that he’d probably exchange Hiccup for Eret on the spot if he could…

What he hadn’t expected was for the man to burst out laughing.

“Well, in that case, the engineering school not taking you gave me a second son-in-law.”

“Oh, ah…” Hiccup felt his face heat up at the term. He felt a ramble bubbling up in his chest, about how he’d only barely discussed that with Astrid and how she wasn’t even sure she wanted–

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing you, son.” With a chuckle, Frederick leaned back in his chair and Hiccup exhaled. “So tell me, what machines exactly did you build as a kid?”

Once he started talking about his Lego inventions from his childhood, Hiccup lost track of time. An indefinite time later, Astrid and Wilma returned to the table, finding the two men deep in conversation. Wide smile on her face, Astrid gave him a kiss on the cheek and shared a pleased look with her mother. At the end of the day, he had to promise Frederick to continue their conversation the next time they saw each other.

Maybe he wasn’t yet an Eret when it came to being an integral part of the family, but he was getting there.

_______________

On the night of the Hofferson’s anniversary party, Hiccup found himself surrounded by several of Astrid’s great-aunts, great-uncles, grandparents, and various other older folk somehow related to or friends with the family.

He’d actually just wanted to take a break from socializing and had retreated to one of the tables in the corner while the party continued on the dancefloor and at the bar. Astrid’s cousins were doing shots, but he’d just so managed to escape. Her uncle had claimed dance after dance with her. Wilma and Frederick were moving from group to group, having a drink here and a conversation there, dancing with friends and family in-between. And Eret stood with the cousins as if he was one of them.

It had been quite a tad awkward when great-aunt Phyllis had walked past the two of them earlier, cheeks red from brandy, and said with a cheeky wink: “Let’s hope she sticks with this one.” Once she had moved on, Hiccup wanted to sink into the ground and Eret was guffawing.

Now, Phyllis was sitting opposite him, another Cognac in front of her, giggling with the group about something he’d said. He’d discovered he had a knack for entertaining the older generation of his girlfriend’s family. They questioned him about every single detail of his life, his family, and their favorite topic, the story of how he and Astrid fell in love. Even after hearing it for the third time that night, they still aw-ed and ah-ed, hanging onto his every word.

“Then what happened with Eret?”

“Larry, he’s right there,” great-uncle Greg groaned and pointed at the tall man downing tequila with cousin Beth.

“But I don’t know the details, old fart!”

“Who are you calling old?! I’m younger than you.”

Grandma Rosie, 93 years of age, lifted her walking stick and threatened to whack them both over the head if they didn’t stop bickering. The men let their squabbling go and grinned as the rest of the group watched, amused, as Rosie’s façade crumbled, revealing the humor in her eyes. Eleven wrinkly faces returned their attention to Hiccup, expectant and curious, some a little wary. They hadn’t heard this part of the story yet and they had caught on to Eret’s change of lifestyle.

Hiccup hesitated. This wasn’t his story to tell anymore. And part of his audience was quite conservative, already scrunching up their noses. Then again, Eret had come here with an official male date. He wasn’t hiding anything. And to their credit, even the most conservative person in this hall had been nothing but supportive towards Astrid’s life choices so far, first a divorce not even two years into her marriage, then bringing both her current and her ex-partner to a family event.

Also her supposed choice of having kids out of wedlock, but since she was currently drinking a glass of wine on the other side of the hall, Hiccup expected that particular rumor to dissolve during the night. Not that it hadn’t given him a minor heart attack, though, when he’d first been asked about it by great-uncle Charles. Hiccup had told her that dress looked a little baggy when she was sitting down, no matter how gorgeous she looked.

“Well,” he started, searching for the right words, “Eret’s date went great. But after a few weeks with Tim, the spark faded.”

“And then he was with that girl from the bakery, right?” Susan, one of the Hofferson’s neighbors, chimed in, leaning forward and lowering her volume just a bit, as if she was passing on a secret. “I saw them together a few times.” Astrid had warned him about Susan. That woman was probably the worst gossiper in all of Berk. That’s why he’d made sure she was the first to hear that Astrid was, in fact, not pregnant.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “he dated Christina for a short while.” He didn’t specify that this short while had only been three consecutive weekends on which they had hooked up. He also deliberately left out the part where Eret had tried to figure out the exact nature of his sexual orientation, having short flings with several women and men. “But then he found love in unexpected places and that’s been going strong for several months now. And counting.” Finally, he might add. He and Astrid had had quite the bet riding on that one. She still owed him several, well, favors.

“Aww,” cooed the group. No comments or expressions of disgust regarding the homosexual nature of Eret’s relationship. If they didn’t like it, they were keeping that to themselves. These people were here for love, no matter the manifestation. And as a bonus, they liked him. Astrid’s entire family, from first cousins to the great-aunt’s third husband, had welcomed him with open arms. Some more wary at first, some with a sassy comment, but warm and openly, nonetheless. He started to feel like he belonged.

“So Hiccup, tell me,” Susan shuffled her chair a little closer to his, expectant look in her eyes, and asked the question he’d feared would come up eventually. “When are you and Astrid getting married?”

“Ah… Um, I- I–”

“Susan, come on,” Rosie chided the nosy woman with a sharp glare that Astrid had obviously inherited from her, “it’s only been a year. This generation is different from yours or mine. Kids these days don’t want to settle down first chance they get. Let them live life!”

Susan pouted, but she listened to Rosie and dropped the topic. Hiccup smiled gratefully at the old lady, even though the truth was a little more complicated than what she’d said.

With a little wink in his direction, she added, “We old folk don’t need to understand everything the youths are up to. Our time is over. Now we just do our job keeping them humble by telling them horror stories about wars and an age before the facebooks and twittle existed.” She raised her glass of white wine spritzer at Hiccup. “Right, my boy?”

Suppressing a laugh, he mimicked the motion with his empty beer bottle. Individual discussions broke out among the table, varying from rants about kids these days to how old Florence had recently bought a 4k TV set. Susan continued to do her best contributing her share of gossip.

Hiccup was just considering leaving the table to it when he felt it. It was subtle, a twitch of his heart, a prickling in his neck, before not a moment later two arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind.

“What are you kids up to over here?” she asked, her lively voice right next to his ear coating his chest in honey. He didn’t register the following conversation, only felt the vibrations of her laughter, distracted by the warmth of her arms around him, her perfume, her general proximity. Despite being used to it by now, the rush of the feeling still turned his insides into an out-of-control carnival ride.

She shifted behind him, bringing her face closer, and whispered in his ear. “Want me to save you?”

There was no need, he was sure he could just leave the table on his own, but he would never turn down the offer to be saved by Astrid Hofferson, who he was sure was descendant from literal Valkyries… He was getting distracted again. “Yes, please,” he whispered back.

She took his hand and pulled him out of the chair. “Come on, let’s get a drink.” They waved goodbye to the table of elders and made their way over to the bar. Immediately, one of her cousins asked him what he wanted to drink, handing him a glass of rum and coke, and in no time, he found himself included in the conversation. And not just because he was Astrid’s boyfriend. He saw it in their eyes, felt it in his gut. He was part of the family.

At some point a little later in the night, the music switched to hits from the 90s and 2000s, and most people left the bar to dance. Hiccup used the opportunity for a minute to breathe, now alone at the bar except for Astrid and two of her cousins. Olive and June were busy with whatever endless row of texts June was receiving, and Astrid had leaned her head on his shoulder, watching the mob on the dancefloor. He slid an arm around her.

“Look at Hank,” she said and pointed at the crowd. A middle-aged man, her dad’s best friend Hank, was raving in the middle of the dancefloor, completely lost in the beat. His shirt had come out of his pants and there was a large beer stain on his chest. People around him were cheering as the usually so composed office worker was letting loose in their midst.

Hiccup spotted a shock of fiery red hair dancing its way over to him and grinned. “Looks like he found a friend.” Astrid chuckled as they watched Dagur join Hank with his ridiculous dance moves, and the two men took over the entire floor. “I’ve never seen anyone so passionate about the Crazy Frog.”

“I have. Dagur and Eret, at a college party.” She grinned and joked, “I really should have seen this coming when Eret ditched me half the night to dance with Dagur.”

Scanning the crowd for Eret, Hiccup found him talking to the DJ. He’d never forget the day Astrid and he had been over at the man’s place for brunch when all of a sudden, the door to Eret’s bedroom had opened and a yawning Dagur, clad in only boxers and a loose bathrobe, had strolled out, disappearing down the hall into the bathroom.

Eret had cleared his throat. “Yeah, so, when I said I had news, that’s what I wanted to tell you.” However he’d thought Hiccup and Astrid to react, he probably hadn’t expected them to instantly start haggling over winnings and unwritten betting conditions. By the time Dagur had joined them at the table, Astrid had admitted defeat and settled for an I told you so-face directed at everyone.

They really made an odd group, even more so with Heather thrown into the mix. Astrid always got a kick out of explaining to other people how they all met, watching them try to figure out the specific relations and histories between all individuals involved. Hiccup had to admit, it was kind of funny.

The song ended, fading over into a beat he loved to hate, or hated to love, accompanied by a honking sound and a distinct 90s beat. Next to him, Astrid bobbed her head from side to side to the music, and the next moment, Eret’s outstretched hand appeared in front of him.

“Hofferson, this is our song!”

Astrid thrust her drink into Hiccup’s hands. “Hold this for me, babe!” Then she pulled Eret onto the dancefloor, instantly falling into a series of dance moves clearly coordinated with Eret’s. Hiccup blinked a couple of times at the sight.

A snort next to him shook him out of his stare. It was Frederick, ordering a tray of drinks. “Whoever has an elaborate choreography to the Vengabus song figured out, deserves to be best friends. Don’t you think?”

Hiccup smirked. “Oh, sure.”

Frederick saw his expression and mirrored it. “You’re not going to let her forget this, are you?”

“Nope.” He took in every little aspect of the show. Oh, she would never hear the end of this. In perfect sync, she and Eret dragged peace signs in front of their eyes, swung their arms around, twirled, and did something vaguely resembling the chicken dance. This even blew Ross and Monica’s Routine from Friends out of the water.

“You can still run and never come back,” Frederick suggested.

“Are you kidding me?” Hiccup laughed. “Why would I ever leave a girl like her?”

“Good answer.” Frederick boxed his shoulder, then took the tray over to the table of elders. The friendly violence seemed to run in the family.

When the song ended and another took its place, Dagur wedged himself between Astrid and Eret, claiming his new dance partner. Shaking her head with a humorous eye-roll, she walked back over to Hiccup and took her glass back. Upon his grin, she asked, “What?”

“Oh, nothing.” His grin didn’t fade. “That was… Beautiful. Graceful. I- I don’t have the words.”

“Shut up, you’re just jealous.”

He wrapped both arms around her, mindful of the drink in her hand, and kissed her temple. “Yeah, totally. I wish I had moves like that.”

“Yes, you wish.” She was grinning now, too, turning her head to give him a kiss, and then another one. He would be crazy if he ever even considered leaving her.

A few songs later, the beat slowed to a Cranberries song. Astrid put her glass away and tugged at his hand. “Your turn.” She didn’t pull him onto the dancefloor, just stepped a few feet away from the bar, put one hand on his back and laid the other in his. Together, they danced on the spot, her face resting in the crook of his neck.

After a while, he mumbled into her hair, “Susan brought up the question.”

She didn’t need to ask what he meant. “What did you tell her?”

“I didn’t. Before I could say anything, granny Rosie came to my rescue. She said something about generational differences and Susan shut up. We should steer clear of her, though, I don’t think she was satisfied with that answer.”

She huffed. “I can handle Susan.” He knew she could. He just didn’t want to face that question again without feeling the need to explain Astrid’s decision to not get married again; it was none of Susan’s business. If Astrid changed her mind, though, he wouldn’t waste any time. Even if they were in the pharmacy aisle of a rundown big box store, surrounded by diarrhea medicine, and Snotlout was the officiator. Although, come to think of it, he might be able to make himself wait until they’d moved to at least the garden center.

As if she’d read his mind, Astrid lifted her head and looked up. “You want to get married, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer straightaway. “I know you don’t and that’s okay. I want to share a life with you, be by your side, as your partner in everything, no matter what a document says or what last name I have.”

She chuckled. “Oh, so you’d take my name?”

“Sure! Hiccup Astrid Haddock, that has a certain ring to it, doesn’t it?”

She groaned good-naturedly. “You’re ridiculous.” After a short pause, she continued, “You know what? If I ever end up changing my mind, I’ll take yours.”

“Wait, really? What about your family pride?”

“Oh, I’ll make sure my kids know their roots.”

His lips stretched into a smile. “Your kids, huh?”

Hiding a blush, she buried her face in his shoulder. “You know whose kids.” Her voice came out muffled and was nearly drowned out by the next song, louder and faster than the last, but he’d heard her.

“Okay. Deal.”

[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 2

Summary: y/n gets knocked around by a water monster, has secret-sharing time with peter, and decides mj is more important than her pride. sleep deprivation and caffeine consumption are definitely involved. 

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mysterio being a dick, trauma, it’s marvel what did you expect

Word Count: 3978 give or take

A/N: endgame is canon, *vomits*, but we’ve all got a thing for broken peter parker, even if all i want is his never ending happiness

                                                         ///////////

“I can’t believe you punched Flash.” Brad, of course, decided to sit next to me on the gondola ride to the hotel. Figures.

“You better believe it, ‘cuz it actually happened.” I tried to pay as little attention to him as possible and just take pictures on my phone, but he kept talking.

“Why don’t you like me?”

I groaned. “Because, Brad, you ask stupid questions like that.”

We pulled up to the hotel and were all sufficiently underwhelmed.

“It’s flooded!”

“The hotel is sinking?”

I considered helping the hotel out, at least while we stayed at it, but there wasn’t much hope left for it. I took my room key and thanked my lucky stars I didn’t have a room on the ground level. In fact, I was sharing with MJ. I waited patiently behind her as she jiggled the door open.

“Is it safe to assume the building will crumble any second now?”

MJ burst out laughing. “I think that’s an understatement.”

“If I get TB, I’m suing.”

“The hotel?”

“Harrington.”

She smiled. “C’mon, let’s get outside before we drown.”

We walked along the water and let the sun happily reflect on our exhausted faces. Everyone was enjoying themselves, but I was starting to feel queasy. It was almost imperceptible, but I could feel the city moving with the water, and it was making me sick. I started lagging back and tried to find my “sea legs,” but Peter noticed and stuck back too. “You alright?”

I plastered on a weak smile. “That long flight is catching up with me. I’m just going to grab an espresso, I’ll meet up with you guys soon.” He looked at me one more time before nodding and meeting the rest of the group.

I didn’t completely lie — I was getting an espresso. But I wasn’t going to catch up with them, at least, not for a while. I needed to get away from the water, even just for a little bit.

I can’t fly, per se. I can control the air currents around me and change them how I want them too, like I did on the airplane with the turbulence. I can do that with most elements, (except wood, I hate wood) and that gives me a heightened awareness of them. I’m basically the Avatar and the characters from Percy Jackson. All I have to do is shave my head and tattoo blue arrows on my body. (And, yes, I did watch all seven seasons of the two series and read all ten Percy Jackson books to actually figure out what the hell it was that I could do. It helped. Clearly.)

I just lifted myself to the top of the coffee shop. I’m a sucker for espresso, I like to be close to it. The distance helped. I felt grounded enough to walk on the normal streets of Venice again, but when I touched down, I suddenly lurched to the right.

“What the hell,” I muttered. I got my answer soon enough. A huge river monster was crashing its giant water arms on anything it could see. And I was directly in its path. “Oh, shit.”

I shouldn’t have been as terrified as I was. I mean, come on, I can control water. Dissipate the water man, Y/N, I can almost hear you yelling at me. Shut up, I was scared. This thing was twice as tall as any of the buildings, and it had a direct path to anywhere in the city. Me, a seventeen year old girl, against that? Not a good idea.

So, like any logical human being, I ran. And I still got clobbered with water and ended up actually falling into the water. Let me just tell you, Italy needs to get a Brita, ‘cause their river is nasty.

But, once I was actually in the water, the river monster looked a lot less intimidating. Sure, the water was churning around and sucking everything into its path, but I was in my element — literally. I got close to it, like, really close. I pushed against the flow of the water and tried to stop the monster from forming, and it worked, for a little bit. It slowed down, and I got some newfound momentum, when all of the sudden, it all stopped, and tons of water crashed to the surface. That was my cue to leave, but then something caught my eye. A flash of metal was in the water. Luck would have it, though, that I could bend water and metal (shout out to Toph Beifong). I latched onto the metal and pulled it close to me, but I couldn’t make out what it was. Didn’t mean I would trash it though, this water was disgusting enough. I tucked it in my pocket and started swimming to the surface.

I got out of the water actually pretty close to the rest of the class, but I was the only one completely drenched.

“Oh, Y/N, good! We’re all here,” Mr. Harrington celebrated. “Let’s get back to the hotel, your families will want to know you’re all fine.”

“You’re soaked.”

I shivered, even though it wasn’t cold. The temperature difference between the water and the air was enough to make me shake. “Astute observation, Brad.”

“Here, you can have my jacket.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want it.” I kept walking and managed to bump into Peter. “You got wet too?”

“Just splashed. Did you get thrown in?”

“Yeah, the bastard caught me by surprise. I’m okay, just cold.”

“Here.” Peter slung his backpack around and took out a mostly dry sweatshirt. He gestured it my way, but I didn’t take it. “It’s just a jacket, Y/N. You’ll get a cold with your hair dripping all around you.”

I knew that wasn’t how colds worked, but I took it anyway and let it soak in the water from my hair. It helped, surprisingly, at least making me not shiver. We made it back to the hotel with no other complications, aside from Flash tripping over his own shoelace because he was too busy recording for his Instagram followers to pay attention to where he was going. I quickly went upstairs and changed out of my clothes, putting on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt that used to belong to Jessica. The room had a tiny balcony, and I took advantage of it and laid out all of my clothes and Peter’s sweatshirt. The last thing MJ or I needed was a puddle of water to slip in.

I went back downstairs and sat close to the top of the stairs, not wanting to get anywhere near the water at the bottom. MJ was a few steps below me, and Peter was leaning against the stairs, talking to someone on the phone. He hung up, and I slipped past MJ and wrapped around to the phone. I was about to dial, when I remembered something. “Hey, Peter.”

“What’s up?”

I pulled him away from the stairs and whispered, “Is the plan still working?”

“The—oh, that plan. Uh, yeah, I think so. I got her this necklace of a black dahlia from a glass shop, and I want to give it to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

I smiled. “That’s adorable. I’m going to use the phone, do you mind?”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” We smiled at each other, then I grabbed the receiver and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh my—John, it’s her. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Harrington wanted all of us to call our parents, so this is me, doing my due diligence. We’re still set for Paris tomorrow, so I’ll call you then, okay? Love you.” I didn’t even really wait for them to respond before I hung up. Truth was, I didn’t want to talk to them. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone, but I had to make one more phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jess, it’s Y/N. You watch the news nonstop, so I figured I’d call, let you know I’m okay.”

“Thank god, I was so worried about you. What happened?”

“This water monster literally came out of nowhere and knocked me straight into the murky junk, it was disgusting.”

“Were you able to help at all?” Jess was one of two other people in the world who knew about what I could do. She was the one who bought me the tv shows and books, of course she knew.

“I slowed it down at some point, but then all of a sudden it just dissipated, it was weird. I did find this weird metal thing in the water, I picked it up. I’ll send you a picture of it when I get the chance.”

“Okay. Call me soon, got it?”

“Count on it. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore, so I walked up the stairs, ready to succumb to the moldy mattress in my room. Unfortunately, I had to collect my clothes.

Everything was nearly dry, and Peter’s sweatshirt was definitely dry, so I brought them inside. I almost didn’t want to give Peter his sweatshirt back, just because it was so soft, but knowing him, it was probably the only one he brought, so I walked the ten feet to his front door and knocked. I wasn’t told not to enter, so I turned the knob and walked in. “Hey, Pete, I—“ I stopped with my hand by my face, terrified. A small dart was less than an inch away from my palm. I turned to the man in the corner who was holding the gun. “Did you just try to shoot me?”

“You’re the one who came barging in.” The scary looking guy with the eyepatch leaned forward. “What’s your name?”

I laughed heartlessly. “Ha, yeah, like I’m going to tell the man who just pulled a gun on me.” I looked at Peter and threw his jacket at him. “I brought this back.” Then I turned to the man in the chair. I crunched the dart, letting it fold on top of itself before his eyes, then I let it fall to the floor. “You can keep that.” I looked at Peter one more time, then slammed the door on my way out.

MJ was laying on her bed when I walked back in, but she could tell something was up. She had impeccable observational skills. “You good?”

I was pacing, a bad habit I picked up after The Snap first happened. “I just need to look something up.”

“Well, the hotel might be sinking, but they’ve at least got good wifi.”

I finally sat and opened my laptop, then turned on my VPN and put the whole device on ‘incognito mode.’ I had some serious investigations to conduct, I didn’t need the government to see what I was doing. Okay, I only had one serious investigation, but that could possibly have lead to more, so I kept my guard up.

First search: scary-looking black man with an eyepatch. The guy’s face was the first image that popped up. Nick Fury. Ex-director of SHIELD before all of that went to shit. Now he’s running some ‘underground’ SHIELD, I guess. Now I know the guy’s name.

But why was he talking to Peter? And why did he shoot me?

I was up all night doing research. Not just on Nick Fury, but on the metal piece I had found in the water, the Avengers, and as much as I could find on Peter Parker himself. Sooner than I thought, the sun peeked between the curtains at the window and MJ’s alarm came blaring through the speakers on her phone.

“Morning,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and finally taking a break from my computer screen.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Are you going to yell at me if I say no?” MJ just pursed her lips. I knew she wouldn’t.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve pulled an all nighter. At least this one was productive.

“What’s on your bed?” She picked up a small spring and looked it over before putting it back beside the rest of the pieces of the metal thing. “Did you take apart your toothbrush?”

I chuckled. “No, I found this thing in the river when I got knocked in. I didn’t know what it was, so I took it apart.”

“Have you figured it out?”

“Not yet.” I rubbed my eyes again and groaned. “We’re going to Paris today, right?”

“Yeah.” MJ stood and stretched and I caught the smallest smile on her face when she replied. I smiled too and packed up my project. Something for another late night.

We were escorted outside with our luggage in tow, but Mr. Harrington happily informed us we would be taking a bus to Prague instead of a train to Paris. You’ve got to be kidding.

Peter was walking to the bus in front of me, but I grabbed his arm and dragged him away. “What the hell, Peter?”

“You can control metal?” He was in awe. His admiration would’ve been flattering if I wasn’t so pissed.

“You had Nick Fury in your room last night. I almost got shot last night. What the hell is going on?”

“It was only a tranquilizer, you would’ve been fine—“

“That’s not the point, Parker!” I basically hissed at him. He looked a little surprised that I was so upset. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down enough to not start shouting. “We were attacked by a water monster, I almost got shot, I didn’t sleep, and now four people in the world know what I can do, so give me some damn answers, because I sure as hell deserve them.”

Peter looked around, like he was looking for an escape, but I was ready. I might not have slept in almost 48 hours, but I wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

Then Harrington was calling us over to the bus. Perfect timing.

“Can we talk on the bus?”

I nodded and let him lead the way to the back. Surprisingly we were the only ones that occupied those seats and the ones surrounding, but that’s what happens when you get a bunch of nerds in the same vehicle—they all sit in the front. He sat low in his seat, and I did the same, and I let him start the conversation. Prying it out of him wouldn’t be too successful, I figured, not with something like this.

We got fifteen minutes out of the city before he started talking. “Fury wanted me to go with him to meet this guy who defeated the Elemental yesterday.”

“Why you? And what’s an Elemental?”

“The water monster, it’s called an Elemental. And he asked me because I’m—I’m,” his voice dropped to an even lower whisper, “I’m Spider-Man.”

I almost didn’t believe him.

I almost burst out laughing at the hilarity of it all. Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Ridiculous.

But, remember, I learned from Toph Beifong. I can tell when people are lying.

And Peter?

Peter wasn’t lying.

Well, shit.

How do I even respond to something like that?

“Okay.” Good one. “Who was the other guy you met with?”

“You—you’re not surprised?”

Oh, young Parker, I was dumbfounded. But I had learned two years earlier how to control my heart rate, so he would never know how freaked out I actually was.

“You saw me stop a dart mid-air, Peter, you being Spider-Man is hardly out of the ordinary.”

He looked relieved, but he still hadn’t answered my question.

“Who was the other guy?”

“Oh. His name is Quentin Beck. He’s—“ another low whisper, “he’s from an alternate universe. He fought the Elementals before, and he and them got sucked into our universe when Tha—Hulk brought everyone back.” He didn’t look me in the eye when he talked about the snaps. I wouldn’t either, but I felt the little blip his heart made at the mention of Thanos’s name, so I didn’t push. Even though Quentin Beck and his story sounded like bullshit.

“Do you have a picture of him?” Peter looked at me skeptically, but hooked up his mask to his phone. A somewhat blurry picture of Quentin Beck popped up, and he sent it to me, but he didn’t seem happy about it. “I just want to know who to look out for. If I start chucking rocks at people, I don’t want to hit the wrong one.” The lie seemed to relax him a little bit. It wasn’t a complete lie, I did want to know who to look out for, but I also wanted to find this guy in our universe. “What’s the plan now?”

“They think another one will pop up in Prague—“

“Peter, we’re driving toward Prague. Shouldn’t we be going away from it?”

“I have to help fight this thing—“

“Let the Beck guy do it!” My voice had risen above a whisper and Peter quickly shushed me. “He’s done it before, he can do it again.”

“They need my help, I can—“

“Peter.” He kept muttering, convincing himself he needed to help, but I wasn’t having it. “You don’t have to save the world, Peter.”

That got him to shut up.

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t owe the world a goddamn thing.”

“Help me.” That got me to shut up. “Help me fight the Elemental.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you’re one of the only people who can! The next one that’s coming, they’re pretty sure it’s the fire elemental, and any time it absorbs metal it can get stronger. You can help us beat it by keeping the metal away from it!”

Oh. He didn’t know I could do more than that.

“Peter, I — ”

“Please.” Peter Parker had the best puppy-dog eyes I had ever seen in my life. But I wasn’t convinced.

“I’m here for a school trip, Pete, not to save the world.”

It’s like I sucker punched him. He deflated immediately and looked away, and I got up and moved a few rows ahead.

I wasn’t opposed to helping, but I didn’t want to get near Quentin Beck until I had a full story on him. And that would take a lot of research and caffeine.

“Hey, Eugene.” We had stopped for a bathroom break and he was still using his phone to update his Instagram followers on all of the happenings on our way to Prague.

“Are you here to break my jaw again, Y/L/N?”

I looked at his face and didn’t see any swelling, barely any discoloration. “Nope, you’re healing nicely, I’m impressed. Do you have a hotspot?”

“Why do you think I have a hotspot?”

“Because you’ve been on your phone the entire trip.”

“What will you do for me if I let you on it?”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. Of course he would ask for a favor. “Anything. Within reason.”

“Can I cash in on the favor later?”

Goddamnit. “Sure, whatever.”

He laughed maniacally. “Okay, Flash Hotspot is the user, and spidermanrocks is the password, no spaces, no caps.”

“Really, Eugene, you went with that password?” I almost had to laugh. He would have an aneurysm if he knew who was really Spider-Man.

“What?”

“It’s a bit obvious, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What were you doing with Parker?”

“Plotting the downfall of the European Union.” I let out a laugh. “We were talking about the water monster, and how there’s a light festival in Prague that’d be cool to go to.”

“Gonna go on a date with Penis Parker?”

“I was actually thinking about asking Brad.” That made Flash laugh, and I smiled myself. “But seriously, stop calling him that.”

“Whatever.”

Peter looked flustered as he got back on the bus, but I didn’t pry. But Brad looked awfully smug as he sat beside MJ. Focus, Y/N, you have to find Quentin Beck. I hunkered down in my seat and slipped my headphones over my ears, then logged onto Flash’s hotspot and got to work.

The number of illegal websites I went on was not something I’m willing to admit out loud, but I couldn’t find anything. Not a single facial-recognition scan showed any results for Quentin Beck, and I tried as many as I could get my hands on. But the more I looked at his face, the more I felt like I’d seen him before. And honestly, it was pissing me off.

I stared at the image on my phone, and I had a gut feeling it had to do with Tony Stark. This Beck guy was somehow connected to Stark. It’s like the answer was on the tip of my tongue. I rubbed my temples in frustration, wishing I could just reach into my memory and pull out the information when it hit me. “Memory, you’re so stupid, Y/N.”

Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, affectionately called B.A.R.F. was presented by Tony Stark at a lecture he did at MIT almost seven years ago. But this guy had released a paper about it six months before—a guy named Quentin Beck. I remembered reading about it for a school project, and the picture of the guy was the same person Peter met.

“There’s no way.”

I looked up the article, and sure enough, I was right. Quentin Beck was the scientist behind the technology, and he was an employee for Stark Industries when the article was published.

Great, now I had to break into Stark Industries and access their archives while on a hotspot provided by Eugene Thompson. Lucky for me, we pulled into the parking lot for our much improved hotel, which meant free wifi. Unlucky for me, Mr. Harrington now felt he needed to start bossing us around, considering he was the teacher. Which meant I had to put my investigations to the side. For now.

“Okay, kids, grab your room keys, same roommates as before. Meet back in the lobby at five o’clock for the light festival!”

MJ and I dragged our cases up to the third floor. We each chose a bed, but she was moody, more than her usual angst. But I didn’t have time to play therapist. “Did we get a wifi password?”

“Uh, yeah.” She passed over the card after logging in herself and sat on her bed, glancing back at me every ten seconds.

I was typing away madly, but her stares were making me uncomfortable. “Why are you staring?”

She looked away quickly. “I’m not staring.”

“You were totally staring.” I kept clicking and typing. “What?”

“What are you looking for? I know you stayed up all last night on your computer.”

To tell or not to tell, that is the question. Not a very hard one, but it’s still the question. This secret isn’t mine to make public, though. “I’m trying to prove someone wrong.”

“Who?”

I hesitated. “Peter.”

“Why do you need to prove him wrong?”

“Because he’s gotten his idyllic little hopes up and I want to squash them like a bug.” I glanced at her and smirked. “I’m kidding. I just don’t think he’s right about something, and I’m proving it.”

She nodded, not entirely convinced. “You’re coming to the light festival, right?”

I looked at her. Really looked at her. She was pulling her long sleeves over her wrists and switching her weight from foot to foot—uncomfortable as hell. I gave her a genuine smile and closed my computer. “Wouldn’t miss it. Wanna help me figure out what to wear?”

Friends come before saving the world any day.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries​

[starlightsearches]

The Runaway—Ch. 3

It was supposed to be like any other bounty. Just another job. But when Din Djarin meets a runaway trying to escape a tragic past and a bleak future, everything changes. (Set after the events of Season 1, no spoilers for Season 2)

Masterlist

Din Djarin x f!reader (no y/n)

Series Warnings: Language, canon-typical violence, mentions of abuse.

AN: Near-death experience in this chapter, but that’s the only extra. Feedback is always appreciated!

Din squints into the darkness, hardly able to see even with the adjustment his visor makes to the steadily dwindling light. He doesn’t show it, as he leans up against the rough-hewn entrance to your makeshift home, but there’s a stiffness to his muscles after the journey here—his legs aching underneath the weight of the armor, and the sun had been inescapable, beating down on both of you like the wrath of god. Although it’s setting now, the heat hasn’t abated in the time since and underneath his armor Din’s clothing is clinging to his skin.

“It’s around here somewhere,” Din can just make out your shape now, a dark smudge against blacker surroundings, but you move with confidence and quiet surety as you search around the small space. “Ha! Here it is,” there’s a faint click, and the little hovel you’ve led him to is filled with a yellowing light that stutters against the walls before steadily growing brighter. You swing the flashlight around in small, sweeping motions and Din takes it all in, his heart shriveling in his chest like a life-vest with a leak.

“It’s not much,” you say quietly, watching him out of the corner of your eye, “but it’s far from the worst place I ever lived.” Din doesn’t want to know what those places were like.

You’re hunched over, practically in half, but the dirt of the roof still scrapes at the top of your head, little crumbles of dust nesting in your hair as you move. He has no idea what stuff you’ve planned on grabbing—there’s nothing here worth taking. You’ve got a meager supply of food, stacked against the far wall, high off the ground to keep it away from any pests, but no table, no place to build a fire. There’s no bed, either, just a mat and a blanket so threadbare it seems to be made of holes. He can’t take his eyes off the blanket, the blood draining from his face; for a moment, he thinks he might be sick. His fingers curl in on themselves, twin fists resting at his sides, and he wishes that your father were here, right now. He’d end him.

“Hey,” Din turns at the sound of your voice and finds you kneeling at the edge of the back wall, near the mat and you’re looking up at him expectantly—Din wonders how many times you’ve tried to get his attention. You wait for a moment, and he nods to show that he’s listening. “Can you help me with this?” He’s not sure what this is, as you point at the wall—a gesture that gives him no helpful information—but he agrees, the child following closely behind as he takes his first step inside. 

 Din crouches, but only manages one or two half-steps before falling to his knees, which is all it takes to cross the distance from the door to the place where you kneel. You push the flashlight into his empty hands before lowering yourself to the ground. 

Starting in the bottom corner of the room, you rest your palm against the wall, stacking your hand one over the other with careful precision and Din shines the flashlight in your direction without asking any questions. About halfway up the wall, you begin to move towards him, walking your hands along the wall until you’re leaning over him, your body stretched across his without ever moving close enough to touch.

The light falls across your face, your lips moving silently casting strange shadows on the wall behind you before you stop just on the other side of him, the tip of your finger carving a soft x in the wall. “There,” you say quietly, just a soft puff of air against the side of his mask.

You lean back, taking the flashlight from his hands, sitting back on your legs, looking at him expectantly. Din is at a loss.

“I need you to hit the wall where I marked,” you say, characteristically cryptic, “really hard.”

Din looks at the wall, examining it more closely; unlike the rest of the packed-dirt structure, this side seems rock-solid underneath the caked-on, crumbling dust. He hits it hard enough, he could break some fingers, at best. 

You see his skepticism through the mask, shuffling a little closer, “it’s a false wall,” you say, retracing the x with your fingers, “I built it myself when I first came here—couldn’t just leave my stuff out in the open.”

“Why didn’t you keep it under your mat?” Din asks, still hesitant. That was the standard procedure for most of the criminals that Din had encountered, although he’s not sure that you fall into that category. Thieves among thieves will target their own if needed, but it’s futile to try and steal from anyone who sleeps on top of their possessions. Especially when there’s a blade under their pillow. 

You roll your eyes at him, “because that’s the first place everybody looks.” Din makes no move to do as you’ve asked, and you examine him more closely, your eyes searching the mask for the answer to a question that you haven’t yet asked. There’s a pause, a shift in the momentum of this conversation, this partnership, “don’t you trust me?”

Din sighs, rolling his eyes at you and he thinks some part of you knows because you smile as he pulls his fist back, his eyes on the carved x.

“Then again, my hands could have grown in the time since-” you blurt out in warning, but Din’s already loosed the punch. He closes his eyes, unwilling to watch the impact, waiting for the snap of bones, but it doesn’t come, his hand crashing through the wall amid a shower of dirt. 

It’s not a large break in the wall—Din can feel both edges of the space you’ve created without much movement, the tips of his fingers brushing the back wall while his wrist is still visible. He pulls his hand from the crevice, brushing the dirt from his glove and you fill the place immediately, shining the light and digging around in the illuminated opening. 

“Here,” you shove something into his hands, still focused on the crack in the wall. Din takes it, glancing down.

His eyes blow wide when he sees the item—a necklace like a collar, made of woven gold and blood-red gemstones. It’s caked with dirt, but still sparkles in the evening light, each stone throwing fractured ruby streaks against the walls of the room.

“Is this real?” Din asks, unable to keep the awe out of his voice. He’s not sure what kind of material the necklace is made of, but it looks expensive. He starts the mental tabulation: fuel costs, food, repairs that need to be made. New weapons to be purchased, toys for the kid. Maybe even an upgrade for his armor.

Before he can finish the thought, you’re shoving more jewelry his way—handfuls of glittering stones and expensive metals. Din sways on his knees, light-headed.

“I think that’s the last of it,” you turn to face him, shifting into a sitting position. You hold your hands out, and Din lets the collection fall into your waiting palms. You begin to sort the baubles into small piles, brushing the debris from each sparkling surface. Din stops your hand as you’re about to place a set of delicate silver bangles next to a jewel-encrusted hair pin.

“What is all this?”

Your eyes flicker with confusion, trying to interpret Din’s response, and honestly, he’s doing the same. His hand stays on your wrist, his grip loose enough that you could break it if you tried, but you don’t, your stare fixed right where his eyes would be.

    “You told me you didn’t have anything left. That you sold it all.” His voice shakes as he looks at the extravagant spread, the necessities and indulgences he had been calculating earlier multiplying ten-fold. With this sum, you could buy . . . anything. But when he looks at you, your expression pained, he’s immediately chastened. There were some things that had no price.

 ��  “I lied,” you say gently, watching as the child wanders over to inspect the treasures. Din moves to grab him before he can reach any of it, but you hand him something to play with—a simple golden chain—and he’s mollified for the moment, pulling at the object with his little, green hands.

    “Why didn’t you tell me?” You both pull your attention away from the kid when Din speaks, and you sigh, brushing a few stray hairs away from your face with a rough hand.

    “I didn’t know if you could be trusted. For all I knew you were going to take it all and turn me over to my father anyways.” A huff of air escapes Din’s lips at your statement. There’s plenty you’ve left unsaid, words that weigh heavy on Din’s shoulders, a trust that he can’t fully fathom. It’s not just your life that you’ve placed so fully in his hands—it’s his, too, and the kid’s. With this, and the bounty your father had offered, he could buy a better life: no running, no danger, no bounties. He could find the child’s people, make sure he was safe. And then, after that, he could do anything.

    You knew all of this, when you brought him here. Din feels very small, sitting on the floor of this dingy dirt hut in the middle of nowhere, and this choice, this offering, feels much too large.

    You push the piles towards him, scooping them all together in your hands. “I want you to have it,” you say through shaky breaths, “for helping me.” 

    Din makes no move to take it, although he could. He grabs the strap of his satchel instead, tossing it into your lap.

    “Hold onto it for now,” he commands, “I don’t take any payment until the job is completed.” 

    You don’t move, lips parted and eyes on him. He thinks he might see the barest hint of tears pooling at the corners of your eyes, but they fall closed, and for the first time, Din can see what this means to you. You want to live. You want to be okay.

    You begin clearing up the jewelry, packing it into the satchel, slinging it over your shoulder. That’s when Din hears the noise, footsteps crunching over the terrain outside. He stops you with a finger to his lips, pulling the flashlight towards him and flipping the switch, throwing the room into darkness.

     His visor adjusts to the shadows and his eyes follow soon after. You seem to know that something is wrong, and he can see you in the eerie green light that the mask offers as you pull the child into your lap, looking up at him with wide, worried eyes.

    Din moves quickly, back on his feet and out the door in mere moments, scanning the black horizon with careful eyes. He catches their flickering light source first—three people, he assumes based on the cadence of the footsteps and the soft chatter between them. The shortest one carries the torch, walking a few steps behind the others, and Din stands casually, waiting for them to notice him. His hand hovers over his hip, and he unlatches the strap on his holster.

    “‘S that you, Mando?” The familiar voice, one that grates like gravel against his ears, calls over the distance between them. He was right before; three people approach, but the man in front is the only one he recognizes, and everything gets more complicated. 

    “Hello Tate,” Din keeps his voice even, folding his arms over his broad chest, and the light from the torch flickers dangerously off the beskar. He hopes you’re hidden from view, with the child and the satchel. Din could get you all out of this with relative ease, as long as none of them notice your presence. 

    “Greef told us you were on the runaway job,” Dev says, and then he chuckles, “he actually told us not to bother.” He shifts his weight, leaning on one leg more heavily than the other. He’s got a blade in his hand, but his grip is casual, and he rests it against his hip. The other two have weapons as well—the zabrak on his right has a dangerous-looking club slung over his shoulder, and the twi'lek on his left carries a blaster in the hand not holding the torch. None of them seem too eager to use them just yet, and he’s not planning on giving them any reason. Still, he shifts again, resting his hand on his own hip, just above his blaster. Better to be safe. 

    “We decided to take our chances anyways,” Tate continues, eyeing the change in Din’s posture, “and with a bounty like that, can you blame us?” The others laugh, but the smiles don’t reach their eyes. “Somebody on the way to town told us to look for her out this way. We thought we might find you here.”

“The place was empty when I arrived,” Din gets straight to the point, “I think she might have left it abandoned. I’ve been waiting for her to return.”

    Tate smiles, “I thought you might say something like that.” 

    It happens quicker than the light flashing against his armor—weapons are drawn and he’s got the barrel of a blaster resting at the edge of his mask. Din keeps his own blaster aimed at Tate, but he watches the others in his periphery, tracking their movements. 

    “You gotta get a more subtle look, Mando, if you’re gonna be tellin’ lies like that. We heard from a few different people that they saw you chasin’ the girl out of the cantina.” He steps closer, twirling the blade with surprising dexterity given the meatiness of fingers, and from this distance, Din can see the dirt caked into the creases of Tate’s face, see the shadow of a beard growing over his skin. 

    “So now I’m forced to wonder,” Tate continues at a whisper, “where you’ve got her stashed if she’s not here, hmmm?” Din keeps silent, shifting his grip on his blaster, putting the slightest amount of pressure on the trigger.

    “Where is she, Mando?” he asks again, but  his gaze flickers to the zabrak, a movement so minute he almost dismisses it, until he shifts to check on the twi’lek. Din lets out a low sigh through his nose. Tate thinks he’s got the upper hand on him based on numbers alone. In his mind, he’s already won.

    “She back on your ship?” he asks again, growing impatient with Din refusal to accept defeat, “she out there with that little green freak you stole?”

    The sound of the shot booms in response and Tate stumbles back, hand at his midsection, checking for the burn of the blaster bolt, but it’s the twi’lek who falls, eyes rolling back into her head before she lands with a thump, the blaster falling from her hand.

    Din’s already aiming again, for Tate this time but the shot goes wide as the zabrak catches him on the shoulder with the club. His knees buckle and he fights to stay standing, blocking the next swing with his forearm. Wood clangs against beskar and Din grunts at the impact, pain sparking through his armor. 

    He’s hardly recovered before he hears the metallic slash, feels the burn in the open space where the pauldron meets his chest plate, and out of the corner of his eye, he sees red. 

    One of them hits him in square in the chest, and then there’s a boot at his neck. He places one hand at the heel, but the other isn’t cooperating—a strange tingle travels from the tips of his fingers up to his shoulder, and it burns, dead at this side.

    “Gonna ask you one more time, Mando,” Tate leans over him and Din sees black around the edges of his vision, fighting for every breath, “where’s the girl?” 

    Din says nothing, willing some kind of life into his arm, struggling against the weight of the world for one more lungful of air. He hopes you’ll keep the kid safe. 

    There’s a streak of red that shoots across his vision, and it’s funny to him; no one ever mentioned that as a part of dying, but he’ll accept it. There’s another—he lets his eyes fall closed. And then the weight is lifted, and he can breathe again, and he falls into a deep and restless sleep.

[agoracactus]

Pt4.5 - the village of Blatta

this is a short (hopefully) story happened before you met Jaskier.

cuz i forgot to write this segment. and cuz im too busy to finish my long chapters in a week, and didnt wanna keep ppl waiting, if theres ppl waiting (hopefully lmao)

Pt.1  Pt.2  Pt.3  Pt.4

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

Word Count: 1931

Warnings: lack of proofread, language, blood, death

Summary: im giving up on this part completely, names and summary, my two nemesis

§

You sat at the edge of the bed, staring at your feet, having a silent debation inside your head.

“You’re up?” Geralt pushed open the door, saw you sitting at the bed, “Good, it’s getting late, we should keep moving.” “Oh, ok.” you nodded, stood up to grab your bag.

You came across this nice little village last night, and everyone was surprisingly friendly and welcoming. People invited you to their house and share food with you. Some even offered you their beds so you can have a good rest. To be honest the hospitality scared you a little, you were used to people being mean for you’re traveling with a witcher.

Walking out of this shabby wooden house, the sun was warm and bright. Couple of folks greeted you with a smile. The village looked busy, people were walking around preparing for something looked like an event, excitement floating in the air. You returned the greetings, feeling flattered.

“Oh! You are leaving?” a woman was holding a basket full of dead chicken under her arm, blood seeped through the woven basket and dripped to the ground. “What a pity! The festival is around the corner, you should stay! We love having guests! There’s going to be a feast!” You sneaked a glance towards Geralt, he seemed to have no interest at all in this feast, “Thank you for the kind offer, but we need to go now.” you tried to be as polite as you can. Not every day you get to meet someone who’s nice to you.

“Hey, um, maybe we should consider staying for a few more days?” you suggested, watching Geralt handed out an apple to Roach. “No, we need to head south, that’s what the contract said.” “Yeahhh but, it’s a feast! Feast means food!” you tried to persuade him, “We could use some free food! People here are nice- How many times did you actually receive a warm welcoming from others?” “You can stay all you want, I have a job to do.” he gave you a stern look.

You bit your lower lip, looked back over your shoulder at the small village.

“You know what, maybe I should.” you finally made your decision, “I’m staying.” Geralt stopped to look at you, didn’t understand what you were up to this time. “I’ve been thinking about this for, quite a while now... Now that we came across a lovely place, people here are friendly and welcoming... Maybe it’s time that we part ways.”

He didn’t reply.

You couldn’t tell how he felt about this.

“Don’t get me wrong, I really like traveling with you... It was fun, the adventures... And you were nice to me... But I feel like you’d rather travel alone- I mean, I get it, I’m just a weak-ass human girl, who is better stay behind when you hunt instead of getting in your way... And sometimes I get you- us- into trouble-” you realized you started babbling, so you stopped to take a breath in. “What I’m trying to say is, you are such a nice person that you probably don’t even notice that I’m just taking advantage of you... And I don’t want that. So I’m breaking this little group up. For our best interests.”

“Very well.” he untied Roach’s rein. “...That’s it?” you frowned, “You’re not gonna say something?” “I said ‘very well’.” “...” you rolled your eyes behind his back, “...Well, I guess that’s it then?” “Mmm.” Geralt hopped onto Roach. “It was nice meeting you, witcher.” “You too.” he nodded his head. “Take care, ok?” “Farewell, y/n.”

§

“Have some soup sir, it shall warm you up.” the merchant handed the witcher a wooden bowl. The witcher thanked him. Everything was quiet except for the slight crackling from the fire.

“Where are you from?” “Sodden, sir.” “You’re going north?” “Kovir, got some business to do there.” “Still got a long way then? There’s a small village on the way to replenish if you follow along this way.” “Small village? The village of Blatta? No sir! No one should ever go anywhere near that place, especially during this time of the year.” “Why?” “Those who travel frequently on this path all know the village of Blatta. It’s the village of worshipers of the Dark Lord. They hold a grand festival in name of their vicious god every year around this season, using the blood of their livestock to attract monsters, making sacrifices of children and young women and any outsiders who happened to come across their way and call that a ‘cleanse’- Where are you going sir? It’s not safe to travel in these woods at night- Sir!”

§

He was late when he arrived at the village.

There was no light in any of the houses, all the doors and shutters were closed. The pungent smell of blood was drowning him. Several dark shadows were squatting around, he could hear the sound of munching, slurping and the nasty noise coming from their throat. He took out a small tube, uncork it with his teeth, drank it all up and jumped off of Roach. He took a few steps forward with the momentum, took out his sword and carefully approached.

The faint light from the moon was not a problem to his witcher eyes, he slowly walked closer to the necrophages, formed a sign with his fingers. Flame bursted out from his hand. The monsters screamed and ran away into the woods.

The witcher looked down. All the bodies had their wrists and ankles tied up, dried animal blood mixed with their own congealed in their hair. It seemed like the villagers poured the blood of their livestock onto these poor lives and left them here to be devoured by the necrophages.

To his relief, he didn’t see anyone resembling your feature.

He heard something inside the house. He turned and saw pairs of eyes peeking through the crack of the shutters. The witcher felt anger quietly rising within him. He held tight to his sword, picked up his pace to follow the trace of the monsters into the forest.

§

You were hurt, you couldn't tell where exactly you were hurt due to the burning sensation spreading across your torso. But you didn’t dare to slow down.

You tripped against a rock and fell hard to the ground. The pistol in your hand almost misfired with your finger held tight against it. You tried to get up, but your limbs were weak from the pain.

All you could hear was your heartbeat and heavy panting.

You thought you lost them. The monsters. But you couldn’t lose the sight of the screaming children. You shook your head to get rid of the image before it brought up more traumatizing memory, and struggled to get up.

You knew you were lost in this forest, every direction looked the same, and the dim light of the crescent moon was not helping. You wiped your forehead with the back of your hand, felt the moisture there which you couldn’t tell if its sweat or blood. You took a few deep breaths to steady your heart and picked a random direction, quietly walked towards that way, praying to whoever’s out there this is not the way back to that horrific village.

§

The witcher was panting heavily. Standing in the middle of a pit which was full of the bodies of the creatures he just slew, on a bed of human bones and pieces of cloths. The stench of rotten flesh and the necrophage was piercing through his nose to his brain, but he didn’t move. He just stood there, eyes glancing around frantically around the once-monster-nest.

There was a snap of the twig behind him, sounded like thunder in this deadly silent woods. He turned around sharply, wielding his sword, ready to strike out.

You were at the edge of the pit, eyes wide, face pale as a sheet. He saw cuts above your eyebrow and on your arms and legs, and smelled dirt mixed with blood and sweat.

“Oh my god...” you said under your breath, staring at him. He realized what he looked like now, under the influence of his potion. He instinctively turned his face away.

“Geralt...” you jumped down the pit, ran to him with effort, and threw your arms around him. Geralt stiffened. “Are you hurt?” you quickly released him, pulled back to look at his face, then gave a quick scan down his body--- but you couldn’t tell with the limited moonlight, so your eyes shot right back at his face, “Geralt?” “...No.” he stared right back at you, and didn’t see what he was expecting in your eyes.

“...I’m so glad I found you...” you hugged him again. He now realized you were trembling. He put his hand on your back, “You’re safe now.” You nodded against his leather armor, didn’t care it smelled like shit.

You released him once more, “Let’s get out of this hell hole shall we?” trying to make a joke, but failed with your now shaking, choked voice. He nodded, sheathing his sword, “Maybe next time find a better village?” You let out a nervous laugh, took his forearm to climbed out of the pit.

[beautifulmadnesss]

“Make Peace With Your Feelings” JJ Imagine Part 4

Summary: Olivia is the younger sister of John B and has always followed along with the Pogues. JJ was like a second brother to her and often crashed at their place. She really struggles after her fathers disappearance and she starts to self destruct, even JJ is having a hard time getting through to her.

Trigger Warning: sexual assault and violence. 

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about going after the Royal Merchant, but getting this was the only way to find out if it was really there, so Kiara and I walked up to the gate to distract the security guard for the boys to steal the drone. 

“Hey, we have a flat, is there you any way you can help us out?” Kiara asked sweetly giving the guard a smile. He paused for a moment before agreeing and going to get an air pump. 

“Liv, could you at least try to seem like you know how to smile,” she teased and I rolled my eyes, but forced a smile as he started following us to the trailer. 

“We probably just picked up a nail, you know how it is after hurricanes,” I said, leaning up against the boat. He pumped air into the tire for a minute before we heard the sound of a dog barking. We exchanged a quick glance, hoping he didn’t notice but he did. 

“It’s probably just a raccoon or something,” Kie suggested quickly. 

He didn't seem convinced so I added. “thanks so much for doing this. You’re really helping us.” Internally gagging at my words, but it worked and he nodded before going back to the tire. 

I knew we needed to buy a little more time, so I snuck back around to let out some air from the other tire. 

“Oh wait, I think it needs a little more air,” I heard her say loudly. I panicked and dropped the cap to the air valve. 

“Shit,” I swore quietly, frantically trying to find it. 

“It’s fine, let me check the other side.” Oh we were so screwed. I heard his footsteps and tried desperately to find the stupid tiny black object. “Hey, what are you doing?”

“Oh, I was trying to, I mean I just-” He ignored me and ran off toward the salvage yard. 

“Wait!” Kiara yelled, but he just kept going. We both ran to the car to try to get the boys and get out of there. Pope and John B met up with us almost immediately.

“What the hell, where’s JJ?” I yelled. 

“This isn’t going to be a thing, right? You do realize I’m still your brother.” John B whined. 

“Yeah and you’re fine, but JJ-”

“Is amazing and got the drone.” I turned to see him triumphantly holding the drone and loading it into the back. “Now lets go eat.” I laughed and gave him a smile as Kiara drove off toward our house to drop off the drone before heading the Wreck, where she got us some food after a small amount of pleading with her dad. 

I hung out with JJ and Pope helping them with deliveries to Bald Head while we waited for the right day to go looking for the treasure. Pope and I were carrying a load over to the clubhouse while JJ delivered to a few houses on the other side of the island when we ran into Rafe and Topper. 

“Hey babe, how much for one of those beers,” Rafe asked, stopping me. 

“Leave her alone, they’re not for sale,” Pope asserted. 

“Oh, you mean this stuff?” Topper asked, using his club to split one of the bags Pope was carrying sending the produce into the sand and shattering the jar of pickles. 

“What the hell, Topper!” I lunged at him, but my momentum was quickly stopped by Rafe. “Get off me!” I shrieked, instantly panicking as I remembered a couple nights ago when he attacked me. 

Pope spun around to try to help me, but Topper swung his club hard at his back. 

“Stop it! Leave him alone,” I begged, struggling against Rafe. 

“Come on, why don’t we pick up where we left off on the beach before we were interrupted.” He spun me around and used his golf club against my back to keep me locked against his chest. “We were having such a good time,” he teased. 

“Don’t touch her,” I heard Pope yell from behind me, immediately followed by the thwip of the club swinging through the air and the sicking sound of collision with Pope. He coughed and I started crying feeling completely helpless.

Rafe kissed me and I tried to bend away, but it was impossible with the club buried into my back. On instinct I bit down hard on his tongue and immediately felt the club fall away. 

“You bitch!” He yelled, spitting out blood. I looked around wildly, but it was late in the season and there was no one around except us. My face burned seemingly before I heard the sound of his palm against my cheek. I cried out in pain just as he gripped my bicep in a vice. He leaned down and I thought he was going to kiss me, but instead he bit down hard into my shoulder. I screamed and squirmed. “Not so nice, is it?”

“Hey, dude, we should go, someone probably heard that,” Topper spoke up. 

“Fine.” He replied. “Next time, I get you to myself, you won't be getting away,” he threatened before kissing the cheek he had just slapped. They picked up a couple of the beers that had scattered along with their clubs and walked away. 

“Pope, are you okay? I’m so sorry.” I kneeled down next to him on the ground and took off the tank I was wearing over my bikini to press against where the blood was coming from his head. “We should get back to the boat. We’ll call later and explain what happened. I can help you pay for it.” I said, my words getting jumbled together and my hands shaking. 

“Olivia,” he said quietly. 

“Just put pressure on that, I’ll get this cleaned up,” I said as if I didn’t hear him. The contents were scattered all over, but I did my best to pick up the items and combine them into the bags while tears still ran down my face. Pope sat up and watched me. 

“Rafe-” I stopped him before he could say anything else. 

“JJ will be back in like 20 minutes, we should get back and get cleaned up before he does.” I picked up the bags, leaving half of them behind for him and walked off toward the boat without saying anything else. He didn’t try to stop me or say anything else until we were back on the boat and I had put on one of John B’s shirts from the pile of spare clothes we kept on the boat. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked me, looking over to where I was leaning against the side opposite him. 

I sighed realizing he wasn’t going to give up. “It’s my word against his and everyone knows I’ve been spiraling since my dad went missing and he’s rich, so who would ever believe me?”

“Us. Sheriff Peterkin. Plenty of people.” 

“It doesn’t matter, even if they did he would just get a fancy lawyer to get him off and then everyone would be pissed and it just, it doesn’t matter.” I repeated. 

“It’s your decision, but you should know we would all support you, especially your brother. He cares about you, he wouldn't want you covering up that Rafe assaulted you-”

“Here comes JJ. Don’t say anything, please,” I begged, looking him in the eye. 

“Just promise that you’ll be careful and you’ll tell someone if he does anything else?” 

“I swear.” He nodded. 

“Okay, count me in on every delivery you ever have over here,” JJ said, excitedly climbing into the boat. “What happened to this stuff?” He asked, seeing the groceries from earlier as he walked in to join us. “Holy shit, what happened to you two.” He looked at Pope’s head and my bloody tank on the floor. 

“Topper and Rafe jumped us,” Pope answered. JJ looked between us, clearly furious. 

“Are you okay?” He hugged me to his side and I relaxed comfortably as he placed a kiss on top of my head. 

“I’m fine, they just hit Pope.” I lied and I could see the disappointment on Pope’s face. 

“We’re gonna hit them back.” Pope declared as he set his jaw and pushed the boat into gear. Shortly after we pulled up on Topper’s boat. 

“Let’s do this!” JJ encouraged Pope as he dove off the side to go sink the boat that cost more than most houses.  

“Are you sure you’re okay?” JJ asked as we waited for Pope to come back. 

“Yeah, promise.” I smiled and kissed him lightly, feeling the pit in my stomach grow as I continued to lie to him. 

I was distant the whole time we searched for the ship. I tried to block out the memories of Rafe and the guilt I felt over what he did to Pope. This war between the kooks and the Pogues would only get worse after what we did to Toppers boat. Part of me knew I couldn’t lie to them forever and I wasn’t sure I wanted to, but I meant what I said to Pope, there was no way Rafe would face any real consequences for what he did. Plus, it would only bring attention to the fact that John B and I were living on our own. I would just have to forget about it. 

“It’s the Royal Merchant,” I heard John B say, snapping my attention back to reality. I looked over his shoulder and sure enough there was the hull of the ship that was plastered all over our house. It was real and it was here. I couldn't fight it anymore. My dad could be alive. 

[meaningofmotorsport]

Monaco Grand Prix Review

Even after all the hype and excitement for the return to Monaco, this race really was hard to watch you must admit, as there were barely any overtakes. That being said, we still have a lot to talk about, as the race has left the title fight right in the balance!

Red Bull needed this weekend, after not having an ideal start to the season, at least compared to what we hoped! Circumstances may not have been perfect on Saturday, however they were able to bring home a great result for the team, to lead both championships for the first time since 2013! This has been a tough track for Max in the past, often due to him over driving the car, however this year, despite his anger in Q3, he drove maturely to bring home his first win in Monaco. He and the team need to cash in on this momentum at Baku, where their flexy wings may aid them. If they can do that, Mercedes really do have a challenge on their hands! Brilliant pace and strategy on Sunday, really masked a poor qualifying for Perez, who was at the bottom of the top 10 on the grid. So, to get 4th, crucially jumping Lewis using the overcut, proves that his issues are more on one lap pace, than in the race!

Bittersweet day for Ferrari really! Starting with the tough bit, you do have to feel for Leclerc, to have his day end like that before the race even began! However, he has no one to blame but himself, as if he hadn’t crashed in Q3, there would have been no gearbox drama! This really is becoming a theme, of him overdriving the car and making mistakes, which he needs to tune out of him quickly, as Sainz is closing on him! Part of me is sceptical, about the explanation that Ferrari has given about the failure, they may just be covering themselves by saying it wasn’t the gearbox, as we have seen before Gearbox issues be hidden until the car goes on track! Even if that is the case, you can’t blame the team much for taking the risk, as starting 6th or worse would have ruined his day, so it was worth the risk. As for Sainz, he really showed what he could do on Sunday, as he put Bottas under pressure in the first stint, until he had his issue, before then chasing Verstappen, although he never had a chance at the win! With what happened to his teammate, this race will be a boost for his position in the team I feel. So, can Ferrari stay in the fight this year?

We thought that qualifying was bad for Mercedes, with them only 3rd and 7th, and assumed it would get a little better on Sunday! But no, instead both cars effectively went backwards, as Bottas, who was not looking too bad before his stop, was struck with more bad luck, as his front right wheel nut was rounded in the stop, so they could not get it off, which ended his race! That is truly galling, as this was his chance to show his worth in the team, and possibly get nearer the title fight, I hope he can bounce back soon! Then for Lewis, he was stuck behind Gasly for the entire race, because when they tried to undercut him, the tyre warm up didn’t allow him to get ahead of the Alpha Tauri. This was compounded, as Vettel and Perez could then lap faster then those two, and perform perfect overcuts, which left us with some entertaining Hamilton radio! I am still surprised how far off they were here in Monaco, at least with Lewis, it will be crucial for them to bounce back in Baku!

Norris had another solid drive, simply taking advantage of others misfortune, to get a podium in Monaco! There was some pressure late on from Sergio, however around that track, it would have taken a big mistake, to give the Mexican a chance! The threat posed by Ferrari for 3rd in the constructors is very real, and they should be well aware that the upward trend by the Maranello team, is faster than theirs! It is clear to see, that on power hungry tracks, the Mercedes in the McLaren has the edge, yet on slow speed tracks, the Ferrari chassis is better! Looking at the other side of the garage, Ricciardo did not need this weekend, after the promise we saw in Spain, let’s just hope this was a one off, as you would expect in Monaco!

Yet again, Aston Martin has done a brilliant job in the race, with 2 perfect strategies, to get Lance into the points, and Vettel right up towards the front! The battle between Vettel and Gasly was tight, and great to see, if we had seen it live! It does seem as though the low rake concept didn’t hurt them here, as it is lower speed and more chassis dependent, which allowed them to be in the fight! Will it be a similar story next time out?

At last, Gasly could convert his Saturday performance, on Sunday! It wasn’t easy either, as he had an angry Lewis all over him during the race. The car wasn’t super-fast, as it could be overcut by some cars, but this has brought them into the mix with Alpine and Aston Martin! Talking of Alpine, they have lacked pace all weekend, possibly struggling with the tyres like Mercedes did. Yet Ocon was able to find something, to nab a few points once again for the team. Unfortunately, they just cannot match many other teams around them, which is not good enough for a team of their size!

I will admit that I questioned the decision to keep Giovinazzi in Alfa Romeo for 2021, however he has shown his worth, beating Kimi, and getting the teams first points of the year. His move around Ocon was rather impressive, and somehow, we weren’t shown it during a dull race! Haas and Williams were back in their usual places, with George reaching Q2, but not being able to use it! Well done to Mazepin, who not only didn’t crash like his teammate, but also beat him in the race!

Despite a lacklustre race, Monaco does have a place on the F1 calendar I feel, as qualifying is the spectacle of the weekend! It really has been a crazy weekend, with so many storylines going on over the weekend, so I can’t wait to see what will happen next!

-M

[dust2dust34]

If you're still doing drabble/ficlet prompts: #13 (in the storm) & #49 (coming home).

earnestly yours (Olicity, set between 2x10 and 2x11, T)

A/N: A prompt request from a donor for the Fic for Food Drive! The prompt was anything canon Olicity. I read a book last weekend that involved the "oh no you are freezing, I must get us undressed so I can warm you up right now" trope, so naturally I shoved that right into the middle of Season 2. I started randomly watching Olicity scenes and this fit so nicely right after 2x10.

Summary: Felicity falls off the Starling City docks during a mission and Oliver has to get her warm.

(read on AO3)

*

The bike roared in a deafening rush as they whipped through the midnight traffic. The rain that had been misting a moment ago slowly morphed into thicker sheets and he cursed under his breath, urging his bike to go faster as the storm grew worse. Ice cold wind slashed through his leathers with a thousand razors that felt like someone was peeling his skin off his bones. His exposed face had long since numbed, and every ragged breath scored the tender flesh of his esophagus and lungs.

He didn’t care. He went faster.

All that mattered was getting to the foundry.

The arms grasping him around his middle loosened.

Oliver’s heart stuttered wildly as her hands slipped from where they were supposed to be tightly clasped against his sternum.

He slapped his gloved hand over hers.

“Felicity!” he yelled over his shoulder. “You have to hold on!”

If she said anything, he couldn’t hear her over the rush of the wind battering his face, or his helmet he’d hurriedly shoved over her soaked ponytail. God, if he was cold, he knew she was freezing, soaked as she was from the icy ocean water she’d been pushed into.

Oliver gritted his teeth, his chest caving in, remembering the shadow appearing behind her. A fourth man, unaccounted for, taking Felicity out where she’d been working on breaking through the manual keypad. Her, distracted by her tech, Oliver distracted by the three men guarding the ship. All it had taken was a simple push and then she’d been in freefall. Even wearing the rain boots she had been so damn proud to have in her car hadn’t been enough to keep her feet from slipping on the slick dock, from her falling onto her side and rolling right into the tumultuous waves.

Everything had stopped the instant she disappeared under the water.

He didn’t remember the men getting away. He barely remembered one of them socking him in the face so hard he swore his jaw had cracked. He had a vague recollection of them disappearing through the gate, of them alerting the ship, of the shipments they had tried to stop getting away.

But none of it mattered as he’d skidded across the dock.

Oliver had been ready to jump in after her, but then Felicity burst out of the water, sputtering, her arms flailing against the growing waves responding to the storm moving in.

He had no idea how he’d managed it, but one second he’d been on the docks and the next he was leaning over, grabbing her arm, and hauling her out. It wasn’t strength so much as pure desperation for her to not get swept away, to not get lost forever in the vast darkness that was the Pacific Ocean.

She’d lost her phone, her glasses, and worst of all, her car keys.

For some reason taking his bike had seemed smarter at the time, but now he cursed himself for being so damned stupid. She might have had a shattered window, but he could have broken into her car, hotwired it, and worried about fixing it up later. But that had seemed like too much time wasted even then. All that mattered was getting her somewhere warm, especially with her lips turning blue, her shivering so bad she could barely speak…

It had seemed like a good idea until he found them caught up in a storm that was only getting worse.

Oliver let go of her hands to rev the engine again, but she wasn’t even trying to hold on anymore. Her hands slipped and he snatched at her arm, yanking it around him as tight as he could.

“Felicity!”

Her helmeted head lolled over his shoulder. Was she even awake? Panic tore through him.

The foundry was too far. They needed shelter. Now.

“Hold on!” he shouted, squeezing her arm as raindrops hit them in a sea of tiny bullets, the storm gaining momentum. “Please just hold on. Please.”

They were closer to the foundry, but it was still at least eight minutes, and that eight minutes too much. They were on the edge of the warehouse district, though, and close to old residential areas that had been destroyed in the Undertaking.

Oliver changed directions.

In less than a minute, he was pulling into a driveway that led to a barely-standing carport connected to a dilapidated house. The concrete was cracked down the middle, as close as it had been to the earthquake machine, and his wheels barely cleared it as he roared into the covered space. He pulled in as close as he could, doing his best to keep Felicity secured to his back as he parked the bike. The storm grew stronger, wind whipping against them.

The kickstand was down, Oliver was up and off the bike, and he was sweeping her up into his arms in the same breath before kicking in the closest door to them.

A kitchen.

“Hello?” Oliver shouted as he shoved his way through the house. Debris littered the floor, the air stale and moldy. “Hello?”

Nobody.

The walls groaned under the force of the wind as Oliver hurried into a looted living room. The furniture flipped upside down, graffiti covering the walls, trash and broken bottles and burned pipes covering the ground. Someone had been squatting here, but they weren’t any longer.

Oliver’s gut burned at the thought of having her in a place like this, but he didn’t have a choice.

His mind raced, every new thought heavier than the last as he swept out of the living room and down a hallway. A closet, a bathroom, a door that was barricaded by something on the inside, and then another room. It was tiny, and the earthquake had sent a large dresser crashing into a bed, crushing it under its weight. If he could get it off, it would hopefully be cleaner than anything else in the house. Enough to get her under some covers and get her warm…

Felicity’s shivers were subsiding.

“No,” he gasped, quickly setting down on a chair tucked in the corner covered in dust. He whipped the helmet off. Her pale face shot dread through him and he cupped her face. “No, no, no, Felicity… Felicity, look at me. Felicity!”

Her eyes fluttered and she took a shuddery breath, shaking. She tried to focus on him with a croak of, “Not… my best idea…”

“You need to keep your eyes open, do you understand?” Oliver asked, rubbing her cheeks. It wasn’t enough. He needed to get her warm, and he needed to do it now. “Keep your eyes open,” he ordered before surging to his feet.

With a grunt, he crouched by the bed, cupped the corner of the dresser, and shoved up. It was heavy as hell, and his muscles strained so bad he shouted. But he got it up and off the bed, sending it crashing back against the wall where it’d been originally. The bed was smashed, but still usable, the bedsheets where they’d been when whoever lived here had made the bed. His insides twisted, wondering where they were, if they had survived, but he pushed it back down, burying it to be dealt with later. Right now he had far more important things happening.

Oliver whipped the sheets back. A quilt folded at the foot was still there and he shook it out, tossing it over the bed.

“Your clothes are wet,” Oliver said, crouching before her again. Her eyes were shut. “Felicity!”

“Hmm?” she managed.

“I need to take these off, okay? Your clothes. And then I’m going to put you under those covers and get in with you to warm you up. Okay?”

“Um…” Felicity furrowed her brow. “Is this real?”

“Yes, it’s very real, and I’m worried you’re going to become hypothermic if we don’t get you warm. C’mere.”

Oliver whipped his gloves off and unbelted her jacket. It was soaked and he grimaced, moving faster. They might be out of the storm, but there wasn’t any warmth in this place, and she had already been exposed too much already. He tugged her jacket off with a hurried, “Can you get your shirt off?” before he leaned over and removed her boots. Her feet were ice and he cupped them, rubbing them. When he looked up, her hands were shaking too hard to remove the button-up sweater she wore, her arms too heavy to even get up to her chest.

A moment of hesitation - he was about to undress her - but then it was gone, because he had to.

“Here,” Oliver said and he whipped her sweater and the little camisole underneath it off, leaving her in a lacy bra with yellow flowers stitched into the cups.

His heart skipped a beat, but he shoved the feeling away, silently chastising himself because that was not what this was about. This was about helping her. He tugged on her hands as he stood up, forcing her to stand with him. She was all lethargy, leaning heavily on him, and he pulled her into his chest to unzip her skirt at her lower back. The material clung to her and Oliver had to peel it off her. The fact that she was ice cold distracted him very well from her matching panties. He nearly bit through his cheek in disgust with himself, especially when he thought it would be best to get her completely naked and out of her wet underwear, but this was already crossing too many damn lines.

Oliver swept her off her feet and set her onto the bed, wrapping the quilt around her. She whimpered and he whispered, “I know, I know,” before ripping his boots off, then his leathers.

They clung to him worse than her clothes from the rain, but he had it all off in record time. They landed with heavy plops on the ground, the thud of his weapons making her jump, his compression shirt next, leaving him in nothing but his boxer briefs.

Oliver climbed into the bed with her and yanked the blankets up over both of them.

He was chilled, but she was freezing.

“C’mere, c’mere,” he whispered, pulling her flush against him. She hissed and he crowded the quilt around her back before cocooning them in the rest of the stale, dusty sheets. He wrapped them up before dipping under the comforter to start rubbing her back through the quilt. She burrowed into him, her shaking intensifying, and he murmured, “Warm up, Felicity, warm up.”

“Oliver,” she whimpered, her teeth chattering, shudders wracking her tiny frame.

He hugged her closer. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

The storm raged outside the house, gusts of wind and rain battering the walls, cold air seeping in.

Despite that, though, the blankets started working, trapping their heat, creating a warm pocket.

It was a goddamn mistake bringing her out into the field. They should have waited for Diggle’s shoulder to heal. He had foolishly thought he would be able to protect her, but all he’d done was get her hurt.

Again.

Oliver gritted his teeth, huddling her closer, probably too tight as he buried his face against the crown of her head. A mixture of ocean and old dust greeted him, and he found himself frantically nuzzling her until he caught a hint of her shampoo.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Stay with me, Felicity.”

An eternity passed before her shivers started subsiding. No, longer. He was vigilant for every second of it, checking her pulse, her breathing, his hands skimming over her bare skin, as much warming her and checking to make sure she was starting to retain some body heat. On top of that, his instincts were on high alert, painfully aware they were in an abandoned house in the Glades, half-naked and with his weapons on the floor instead of in his hands.

Thankfully, nothing happened, save for the wind finally dying down.

Oliver had no idea how much time passed before she fell still.

“Felicity?” He brushed her hair away from her forehead. It was still damp, but drying where she was tucked in-between his chest and the quilt. She didn’t reply. Oliver pulled back to look at her, but he couldn’t see her face. He cupped her cheek, tilting her head up, his eyes used enough to the darkness that he saw the outline of her features. He shook her slightly with a desperate, “Felicity?”

“Oliver?”

“Hey,” he breathed, a relieved smile on his lips. He brushed his thumb over her cheek, under her eyes, silently urging her to open them. Her eyes opened on a flutter, and she stared at his chest in confusion. Oliver sighed, and he let some of the tension turning his back into rock slip a bit. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” she murmured, the word slurring.

“I’m sure,” he murmured.

Even in the dark of the room, he could see some of her color had come back, enough for him to stop feeling the press of panic threatening to drown him. She was warmer, too, sharing heat instead of him trying to make up for what had been stolen from her. Still, he wasn’t anywhere near ready to attempt and face the cold world until he knew for sure she was good. And then there was the issue of their clothes being wet still. Unless he could find something in the room for her to wear.

Later, he told himself, when he knew for sure she was okay.

“You should sleep, if you can,” Oliver said.

She snorted. “If I can…”

Felicity burrowed closer, pressing her nose over his heart. They were both damp from the ocean and the storm, from the lingering heat of their breaths, and her skin dragged over his as she cuddled closer.

It was only then that Oliver knew for sure the danger was over, as parts of his body that had been behaving were suddenly not. The gentle press of her soft curves against his hard lines had him biting the tip of his tongue until he tasted blood. He closed his eyes, willing himself to relax, hoping she didn’t come any closer…

She cuddled in until there wasn’t anything between them but their underwear.

“Uh… Felicity,” he said, his voice cracking on her name.

“Isn’t it kind of counterintuitive to tell me to sleep in a dream?”

He furrowed his brow. “What?”

“‘Maybe he’s dreaming about you,’” she mumbled, huffing as she buried her face in his neck.

Oliver fought to breathe as the lace of her bra scraped against his scars. She slipped her leg between his thighs, her foot curling around his knee. Abruptly, making sure she was warm became the last thing he was thinking about. Well, not exactly, since there was something that came to mind that he knew would keep them both very warm…

He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt as he mentally kicked himself.

“Maybe he’s dreaming of you,” Felicity repeated on a little laugh that didn’t match her words.

He had said that to her, he realized absently, about her and… Barry Allen. Because he wanted her to feel better about him being in a coma. Because he hadn’t wanted to admit that part of his issue with her not being there when he needed her was because he was jealous her attention was on another man, like the selfish bastard he was.

Did she think she was with Barry?

A sliver of ice cut through him and he had to squash the urge to tell her who he was.

No, it was better if she did, he told himself, better for both of them…

“Don’t tell him my dreams aren’t about him,” Felicity said.

Oliver froze, his heart stopping dead in its tracks. It occurred to him in that same moment that she thought she was dreaming. And not about Barry. A precipice opened inside him, part of him wanting to bring her back to reality, but another part wanting - no, needing - to hear what else she would say.

“It’d be easier,” she continued in a sleepy voice, “because you are so, so, so not mine.”

Oliver’s lips formed her name, to tell her this was real, but his voice stopped working.

“But you’re like… coming home,” Felicity mused on a peaceful hum that slowly dissolved as her exhaustion caught up with her. “Good dreams. Such good dreams. You’re good dreams. My dream telling me to sleep. I want to be home to somebody. I want it to be him, but it’s you. You who doesn’t see me. Nobody sees me. Nobody thinks I’m home.”

“That’s not true,” Oliver whispered before he could stop himself.

Felicity harrumphed.

Oliver held his breath as he held her close, waiting to see if she would continue, but nothing happened. Not until her muscles slowly relaxed, her breathing evening out, sleep finally claiming her. For real, this time. Only then did Oliver start breathing again, sagging against her.

He had suspected, to a degree, that there was something more on her side. He saw it when her eyes lingered on him, heard it in the different cadence of her babbles when she was talking to him, felt it in the way she touched had to touch him whenever they were close. But it was one thing to wonder, and something else entirely to hear the actual words coming out of her.

To want to hear them.

A longing he didn’t know how to name filled him, stealing the air from his lungs.

It was wrong, and he knew it, but Oliver gave into the urge to do more than be a source of warmth for her. He cradled her against him, holding her like he wanted to when he let himself think about what could be. How things might be different if he wasn’t who he was, if he was someone who could deserve her, who could be everything she deserved and more. Oliver swept his hand over back, and not because she was pressed against him in nothing but her panties and bra, but because he wanted to soothe her. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted her to know, somehow, because he would never say the words to her, that he did see her, that he saw so much more than she knew, and that she was home.

A home he could never have. No matter how much he wanted it.

Oliver let himself have this moment. He gave in, burrowing into her as much as she did him. He didn’t let his guard down for a single instant, completely aware of everything around them, but he did let himself wish that maybe this could be his life…

Even though he knew it never would be.

Hours passed, and he let them, holding her as she slept, treasuring her trust, protecting her as she rested. He had never thought he would get the chance, and he took on the responsibility as seriously as the mantle his father had left for him last year.

But when the weak hints of sun started peeking through the fading storm clouds, he knew he had to get them up.

Yet he didn’t move, not right away, not as he stowed emotions he couldn’t put a name to, locking them back inside a box with a dozen locks that could never break, not if he wanted to keep her safe.

The air outside their cocoon was still chilly, but it lacked the vicious bite from the night before.

Oliver left her in the blankets as he got dressed, grimacing at the cold in his leathers. Everything she had been wearing was soaked through still, and there was no way in hell he was going to put her back in them. He found some old sweats, ratty but clean, in one of the dresser drawers. She was groggy as he woke her, as he coaxed her into the clothes, supporting her. He slipped her feet back into her boots and with her clothes and his helmet tucked under one arm, he helped her out to where his bike still was. It occurred to him somebody might have stolen it if there hadn’t been a storm, and he shook his head at himself. Last night had been a disaster left and right, and all because he had needed to keep doing something, to clean up the city, to outweigh the bad lurking in the shadows…

And the one paying for his actions was one again not him, but Felicity.

The early morning air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t care as he realized she didn’t have a jacket.

Oliver shrugged out of his Arrow jacket and tucked it around her.

“No, this is yours,” Felicity managed, blinking her eyes rapidly as she woke up more. “It’s cold-”

“Yes, it is,” Oliver interrupted, stopping her from taking it off. “You are nowhere near your normal core temperature right now, Felicity. Please put it on. Please.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I promise.”

It was only because she was still caught in a half-fog that he convinced her to keep it, and he knew it. She glared at him grumpily, slipping her arms into the sleeves, leaving her swimming in green leather.

“This is stupid,” she said under her breath, trying to zip it up with shaky fingers. He nudged her fingers out of the way and zipped it up for her. He couldn’t stop a little smile at the sight of her in his Arrow jacket and it only made her glare more at him. “You think people aren’t going to stare as we drive down the street like this?”

“It’s still early,” he replied, moving to put the helmet on her.

“No, you need this-”

“Absolutely not,” he said, slipping it on her. “It’s dark enough nobody will see us. Now c’mon.”

They made it to her apartment without incident. He pulled in behind her building, cutting the engine in an effort to not wake more people than he needed to. Felicity was oddly quiet as he walked her to her door, until she smacked her forehead, remembering her keys had fallen out in the water.

Oliver fished out the backup she had given him.

He quickly opened the door, happy when he felt warm air waiting, and ushered her inside.

“You should take a shower, and then get into bed with as many blankets as possible,” he said, moving around her to get to the linen closet where he knew she had extra blankets. “I think we staved off the worst of it, but it’s going to take a while to get back to normal-”

“Oliver.” He looked back at her. “I’m sorry.”

“No,” he said before she could continue, stepping back towards her.

“I keep doing stupid things that make things worse-”

“No, you did everything right,” Oliver told her, his hand cupping her cheek before he realized what he was doing. He dropped it. “I was the one who didn’t have your back last night and that will never happen again.”

“You had my back,” Felicity said with a soft, tired smile as she looked up at him. “You always do. Okay, fine. No more apologies, then. I’ll just say… thank you, I guess. For not letting me freeze to death. Although I do feel like I should apologize in advance for whatever I say later because I can guarantee nothing that happened last night as really sunk in yet, and I know when I see you later, I’ll be putting my foot in my mouth because I’m sure I said or did something that was super embarrassing-”

“You were perfect,” Oliver told her.

She blinked. “Oh… Good. Then. I mean, good. Then.”

His lips ticked up in a smile and he didn’t fight his fingers from brushing over her cheek. “Hot shower,” he instructed. “Hot beverages. Soup. Anything warm. And blankets. Lots and lots of blankets.”

“Right.”

“I’ll call you later.”

“Ha,” Felicity breathed. “Never thought I’d hear that from you. I mean, like this. After spending the night together. In our underwear. Oh… god, that… happened, I…” She screwed her face up and pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “I am on the verge of a babble.”

“Then I should go,” he said, the smile still curving his lips. “I will call you later, though.”

“Okay. Oh, here.” She shrugged out of his Arrow jacket and handed it to him. “Thank you, Oliver.”

“You never have to thank me,” Oliver said as he took the jacket. Their fingers brushed, and maybe it was because of last night, or not getting any sleep, or now that he knew in explicit detail what it was like to have her body pressed against his, Oliver cupped her face and brushed his lips over her forehead. “Ever.”

“Still,” Felicity whispered.

Another smile, and then he stepped back towards the door. “Stay warm.”

“So not a problem right now,” she said under her breath as he left, locking the door behind him.

[cruddyborderlandstheories]

Debuff Zane Build

i am tired of not seeing this build in all the zane build videos i watch so im sharing it here because its stupid fun bc u run fast and kill faster. it’s not meta, but its fun as fuck and u have a lot of damage and survivability with it. I’ve completed M4 Slaughter Shaft with it- haven’t tried on M10 yet but i have faith. p.s its 4 am pls have mercy if there’s spelling mistakes.

what ur gonna need is a band of sitorak, zheitseiv’s eruption, a seein’ dead, and the piss grenade. everything else is fair game, whatever u want. try to get it to have the sntl cryo anoint bc good. but u must have the 4 main items for this to work perfectly (it also somewhat works with a low level Frozen Heart bc best shield in the game but you will die a lot more)

also i need a fucking name for this build help

oh god oh fuck i forgot i was playing through the handsome jackpot dlc again

oki im ready to party

this is my current loadout

sometimes i switch the reg Q-System for a kaoson or a nighthawkin if i need ammo (OP QSystem is... OP but not as fun as a tracking grenade QSystem so i don’t care for it) and maybe the brainstormer for a reflux if many shielded enemies (i prefer the brainstormer over the reflux atm. so try for a brainstormer!!)

3rd slot, that’s a monarch which used to be a dictator b4 it got a straight upgrade. I actually don’t use the bipod unless im in a boss fight and don’t need to move fast. usually violent momentum and violent violence cover the dps loss

ur first 3 gun slots honestly don’t matter much. I have my reasons for using them, but you can use whatever u want i think, so long as its a strong weapon (bc unfortunately a lot of weapons are not scaled for m10). u dont HAVE to use the monarch or the Q system or the brainstormer. I recommend them, cuz theyre fun, but u don’t gotta if u wanna swap em out for a a kaoson or a yellowcake or a sandhawk or smth

the last gun is my zheitsev’s eruption. This bad boy, when u reload, shoots out homing balls of debuffery. So every enemy that gets hit with these gets a debuff. I have tried this with the needler but I prefer Zheitsev’s bc it can hit more enemies and once and takes less time. this gun only goes to Blane (ur clone). 

for the skill trees we have no points in under cover even tho brainfreeze is the best skill in the gaaaaame

explanations: 

really the hitman tree is p self explanatory, u wanna go fast as fuck boiii. My band of sitorak does not have the +15 movespeed while zoomer is active anoint (it has the break shield amp anoint, which is p okay. want movespeed, but a nice human from the reddit gave me this sitorak so i didn’t have to farm). u want drone delivery bc Blane will NOT be throwing grenades. If you try to make him throw grenades with the seein’ dead he will ONLY throw grenades and never fire his gun, meaning he’ll never reload. it’s a nightmare. anyway. u want the piss grenade (ideally with the +25% damage on thrown anoint). im not looking forward to regrinding this when they finally mayhem buff grenades.

we put one point into playing dirty because we want those extra shots and honestly with the amount of times seein’ dead can proc ur kill skills you’ll have it more often than not

we also have points in good misfortune for that sweet sweet uptime (which btw can be infinite using the brainstormer/reflux bc it is essentially a redistributor without the need for ur barrier) the monarch/dictator also does it justice

for Blane u DON’T WANT praemuntis. we want blane reloading as often as gotdamn possible. now unfortunately my seein’ dead gave me a +weapon mag size roll (im actually not sure if this affects blane, but im assuming it does) but it does have the amazing +5 donnybrook so I’m taking it anyway. I am so not looking forward to regrinding a good class mod when they finally release action skill buffs for them. i cri. i actually hear 3 points in donnybrook and 2 in violent violence is p good (or 1 in violent violence 1 in playin dirty) so maybe grinding won’t be so bad. maybe i’ll finally get a +weapon damage roll

u can grab 1 point in ducttape mod and put 4 points into borrowed time if you want. it doesn’t really matter. i current have 5 in borrowed time and 3 in pocket full of grenades (for some reason??? usually i only put 2 in.). U can do that and use those extra points for either ducttape mod or more points in playing dirty. 

u NEED quick breather. This skill has a STUPID interaction with the band of sitorak shield because of how quickly it recharges. I’m talking, the instant you swap with Blane, you have full shields and so does he. It’s dumb, I love it. Use it to get out of trouble.

so im probably gonna need to explain why i have 3 points in trick of the light: im a cryo slut. That’s it. put those wherever you want, just make sure you can get Double Barrel. i’ve seen builds where people actually go for brainfreeze, i might try that next time i respec.

Double barrel will make it so blane can use the zheitsev’s eruption and debuff your enemies for you. it’s worth it.

so the augments u want are these:

SCHADENFREUDE. because band of sitorak has such a tiny capacity, ur shield is constantly up. If its not, it’s constantly breaking from full capacity. this does have a fun effect with the amp shield break anoint, but mainly i like it for the 25% damage buff whenever it breaks. its a tradeoff for damage, ur constantly swapping between max shields and more damage, so its actually p constant survivability and damage over the long run.

i grab doppelbanger bc blane sometimes gets stuck in the floor and/or i don’t feel like running all the way back. i wouldn’t recommend getting which one’s real or digital distribution only bc u want him alive as much as possible. u can also get binary system instead of doppelbanger, its up to you

for Zoomer u want bad dose for the movement speed and (sometimes) static field (only if the enemies have shields). this is so if blane goes down or he isn’t taking damage, zoomer can refill ur shields. if the enemies won’t have shields usually i grab winter’s drone or boomsday depending on how i feel.

im actually gonna try to see if i can’t grab brain freeze. hang on. i know trick of the light is frowned upon for most people so lemme just respec. (im sorry i just love the vibes it gives me it’s like HAHA you thought that was me? no!!! boop. and then they’re ice sculptures and man i love h2o i wish emma had frozen more people the only people she really freezes are Greg and Miriam and honestly she doesn’t even kill Greg smh. (Greg is dr denman’s assistant. greg is highkey god.) I do like what she did to Mirami, the fucking implications that YES these teenage girls ARE powerful enough to instakill people, they just don’t out of the kindness of their hearts. Rikki was badass that episode too. actually i love the episode where rikki almost boils a dude alive for making a fool of her with ILLEGAL F I S H and burns people using steam from a pipe. rikki is my favorite mermaid- she knew what was u p. I wish mako mermaids was as badass as h2o was. and the cartoon. god imagine the cartoon violence. sigh. let them use their op superpowers to be SUPERHEROES. like in h2o au i have baron flynt puppeteer people to their deaths from Thor bc he has cleo’s powers like why couldn’t she do that to someone. Like dr denman “lmao bye bitch” or even charlotte (who imho wasn’t bad until cleo started being rude to her. cleo was 100% at fault that season). it wouldn’t have killed her!!! ... instantly. probably. ive never seen avatar in full but i did watch the blood bending episode as a child and as i understand it that’s frowned upon but hey. CAN BELLA TURN PEOPLE INTO JELLY?? harry potter 🅱oneless arms... my god.)

anyway, respeccing. 

there goes all my money. rip.

so i think im gonna have to live with the slower reload speed (sob) but yes u can in fact get brain freeze with this build. lemme show...

so ye in the event u just can’t live without freezing people (i know the feeling) feel free to do this. imma play with this for a bit and see if i can live with slower reload. I actually depend on the 100% cryo with zoomer active for all my cryo damage. i also use an ice breaker so they freeze fairly easy (but only on mobs. on bosses u want the snowdrift or something else)

this build isn’t really meta and u might have trouble doing a solo run of true takedown on m10... bc its true takedown on m10, but honestly it’s fun as F U C K. you CAN do it, but it’s not no thoughts head empty like barrier-redistrubutor/yellowcake zane can be so u gotta be on TOP of ur SHIT. i love it. running around killing stuff. it’s fun. i also love teleporting. it’s my FAVORITE THING. I STILL GET GIDDY OVER IT BECAUSE IT’S SO FUN. ask my friends, they will tell you, sometimes i’ll just start gushing over how much fun it is to teleport even though i’ve played zane since release. just. GFDGHKJGDFK so much fun. i just... b o o p. god i love this game. i took a break to play assassin’s creed odyssey (fun sneaky beaky game, pretty awful dialogue) so DAMN i missed this. 

here’s a link to a video I took on athenas (my favorite area to run. it’s this game’s bloodshot stronghold!) this is the playlist i listen to while playing Zane. i keep swapping songs during play bc sometimes they don’t fit my vibe or i get tired of them lol (spotify control is hooked to my 4th and 5th mouse buttons so i don’t have to stop playing) i forgot where my shock sandhawk was in my inventory, is what i use to demolish traunt. i was so scared i threw it in my bank earlier on sanc-iii lol (also yes i still slap blane’s ass. it’s to encourage him to kill)

and here’s a link to the save + everything I had on me at the moment (including the stuff i picked up in the vid in case u want it lol) cuz im lazy and don’t feel like clearing out my inventory. some of these are only m4-9. which ones? it is a mystery. you’ll know when the new update releases ;) (no but actually im so hype for mayhem level on the item cards. finally. FINALLY!!!)

why is this video taking so long to upload. hynnnggggg

oh god is that the sun

[nitewrighter]

if you still need an OBAB distraction would you be willing to continue your destiny AU?

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3

Mercy stumbled as they transmatted out of the ship and Genji-3 moved to help her, but she righted herself as McCree transmatted out with his hands on his hips. Mercy had opted for a mostly-white version of her Braytech robes with accents in black, gold, and rusty orange. Maybe to match the solar form her light seemed to lean towards? A poor choice for the EDZ, Genji thought, but then again, Warlocks tended to draw attention to themselves no matter what, so who was he to judge? Trostland was the same as ever–a city square long overtaken by nature with buildings only standing up to the ravages of time, the elements, and Fallen and Cabal squabbles by virtue of their golden age architecture.

“Good ol’ EDZ,” said McCree, taking an exaggerated deep breath despite his face being covered by his helmet.

“It’s beautiful out here–” Mercy started looking out over the woods with the Traveler looming moonlike over the pines tinted bluish by its light. But then she turned her head and her shoulders slumped slightly at the sight of the ruined buildings. “…so the city around the tower really is the last city…”

“I mean there’s still people–” McCree started when a blue energy bolt whipped past them.

“And Fallen,” said Genji, drawing his knife as several vandals crept out from the crumbling remains of one of the buildings framing the square.

“…Good ol’ EDZ,” said McCree with a bit more resignation this time as he drew his hand cannon in a smooth action.

Mercy, seeing both of them had drawn their weapons, went “Oh!” and quickly drew her sidearm.

They stood ready as the first few dregs rushed out into the square, but then there came a crack and the dreg at the forefront of their attackers head apparently exploded on one side. He dropped to the ground, the momentum from his run sending him tumbling. Mercy gave a ‘did you do that’ look at McCree but both McCree and Genji gauged the direction of the shot by its exit wound. Another dreg, bewildered by the sudden shot at his companion from the side, turned in the direction of the shot and the back of his head exploded. The other few Vandals rushed back into the shadows of the ruined buildings, one of them being taken out by another shot before they all disappeared into the ruined building.

Genji moved to pursue them, then stopped at the sound of a short, shrill, whistle. The three of them looked up in the direction of the sound to see a crumbling old church and the barrel of a rifle poking out of one of the topmost windows of the steeple.

“Devrim,” said McCree, “Of course.”

The three of them hurried over to the church and passed under the awning. There was a familiarity in Devrim’s church, and a tension in Genji’s stomach. The scent of earth, greenery and the dampness caught by the pines made Genji all the more aware of how much time he had spent hopping between Mars and the Tangled Shore.

“Wow…” murmured Mercy, phasing her helmet off to get a better look around.

The building was pre-golden age, the floors dense with moss and rubble and what grass could manage to grow in the patches of light shining through the church’s bones. Both Genji and McCree easily leapt up onto the high scaffolding that would lead them up to Devrim’s perch without a second thought. They started moving up the scaffolding, but Zenyatta suddenly nudged Genji’s shoulder, and Genji turned around to see Mercy still on the ground.

“How did you…?” Mercy said a little helplessly, looking up at the scaffolding.

“You’re a warlock, just glide,” said McCree as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Glide?” Mercy repeated.

“Yeah! Glide!” said Engel, materializing out from behind her, “Y’know, like I said earlier? Before you died?”

Mercy made a face and then looked nervously up at the scaffolding.

“Just jump and… uh… keep the jump going?” Engel suggested, its plates whirled with excitement,  “You can do it! You can do anything! You’re a guardian!”

Mercy gave a determined nod.

Genji and McCree watched as Mercy uselessly hopped and landed on the ground several times.

“…wow,” said McCree, with a quiet chuckle, low enough so that Mercy couldn’t hear them as she kept jumping, “She is definitely going to die.”

“You die all the time,” said Genji a bit bitterly, “Every guardian was new, once.”

“I’m just giving her some shit. Look at you all feisty!” said McCree with a smirk.

“I’m not feisty–” Genji started but cut himself off as Mercy managed to get several feet off the ground, letting out a surprised squawk and flailing her arms to try and maintain her balance in the air.

“Now you’re getting it!” said Engel.

“Just don’t overthink it!” McCree called to her.

“Try to feel the light guiding you through the air!” Genji called to her. McCree and Zenyatta both gave Genji an odd look and Genji cleared his throat and said, “But–uh–don’t overthink it?”

Mercy finally managed to push herself off the ground into a slow, graceful arc, not flailing her arms, but her eyes flicking around wildly as she tried to keep her breath under control. A giddy breathless laugh escaped her as she reached her apex and slowly descended. 

“Always thought Warlock glides were good for getting shredded by shank-fire in mid-air,” muttered McCree.

“Don’t be rude,” hissed Echo, materializing next to him.

Genji stepped forward to the edge of the scaffolding and stuck a hand out to her. They grabbed each others’ wrists at the end of her arc and he pulled her onto the scaffolding.

“Um–thank you,” said Mercy, pushing her hair back.

“You should–um… keep practicing,” said Genji. He realized he was still holding her wrist and quickly released it.

“Are you coming up or not?” a warm, rumbling British-accented voice spoke from above.

—

The three of them stood around Devrim Kay in his little perch up near the steeple. McCree was peering out of Devrim’s window, hand hovering over the hand-cannon at his side and hardly listening to Devrim as he spoke. Devrim Kay was a handsome man himself, with sharp blue eyes, squarish features, and no small amount of gray dappling his hair and beard. He had apparently taken more of a likening to Genji’s ghost than Genji himself, and both Devrim and Zenyatta seemed to be dominating the conversation more than anyone else in that little church. Genji’s eyes flicked back to Mercy. Despite all her disorientation in becoming a Guardian, she seemed to be listening to Devrim quite intently as he gave her a brief rundown of the area as her own Ghost eagerly bobbed between them. The light from one of the church’s last-remaining stained glass rose windows cast a rainbow onto her, all pinks and blues and greens splashed against the white of her warlock robes and orange catching in her flaxen hair. He didn’t realize he was staring until Devrim said his name and Zenyatta nudged his ghost shell against Genji’s helmet to get his attention.

“What?”

“The Winding Cove?” said Devrim, “As I recall you had quite the sortie with some pike-mounted Fallen there a few months after we reclaimed the City.”

Genji briefly wondered if being a guardian made all his memories blur together, “More Pikes, then?” said Genji.

“Well, as I was explaining to your lovely recently-awakened Awoken friend here, Lar Spurius, a particularly nasty captain of the Red Legion has shored up in the Weep. He’s causing quite a disruption in supply lines to the Farm.”

Genji gave a glance to Mercy. “Maybe we’d be best off running a few minor patrols before we headed after that kind of target–”

“But, your friends here told me you’ve been spending a healthy amount of time on Mars,” said Devrim, readjusting the scope of his rifle. Genji shot a dirty look at McCree and McCree just gave him a smug nod. “I’m told there are lots of Cabal on Mars,” said Devrim, looking back out the window, “And it would give our mutual friend here a chance to muddy her boots.”

Mercy looked at Genji with an earnest smile and Genji immediately felt self-conscious. As far as what she knew of him, he was a well-seasoned veteran and while, yes, he hadn’t exactly been a slouch in the Red War, pretty much every Guardian was flying by the seat of their pants—especially hunters. McCree was proof enough of that.

“Don’t you worry, Dev. We’ll take out this Larkspur guy,” said McCree, putting his hands on his hips.

“Lar Spurius,” said Mercy.

“Gesundheit,” said McCree.

—

“So…Winding Cove, huh?” said McCree, materializing his sparrow, “Hate getting my boots wet…”

“It’s not too far from here,” said Genji, materializing his own sparrow.

They both looked at Mercy.

“Is this a guardian thing?” said Mercy, “Can I just… make a bike?”

Both Genji and McCree looked at each other, then back at her. “You didn’t get a sparrow from Holliday?”

“Who’s Holliday?” said Mercy.

“Well what ship did you come in on?” said McCree.

“Genji’s?” said Mercy. 

McCree shot Genji a ‘Really?’ look and Genji just glanced off awkwardly.

“Oh I knew I forgot something!” Engel burst out, “I guess I got distracted after I saw you splat on that concrete. Sorry, Guardian.”

“It’s okay,” said Mercy, “I guess we’re both still figuring things out.”

“…we could go on foot,” said Genji, “Take out any fallen patrols on the way…”

“Nah, this Larkspur guy should take priority–” said McCree.

“Lar Spurius,” said Genji.

“Sure is. Y’know Merce, my sparrow’s got room on the back if you don’t mind getting close,” said McCree, gesturing at his own sparrow.

“I won’t slow you down?” said Mercy.

“Not at all,” said McCree.

Genji nearly blurted out ‘My Sparrow has room, too!’ but self-control, the fear of making things weird by making Mercy have to pick between frankly arbitrary options, and the fact that the first priority was getting to the Winding Cove managed to stay his metal tongue. “We’d better get going then,” he said, swinging his own leg over his sparrow.

McCree hopped astride his sparrow and Mercy clambered on after him, wrapping her arms around his waist. Genji took off on his own sparrow with them close behind.

“You know, your sparrow has room in the back too,” said Zenyatta, his voice barely audible over the sparrow’s whirring.

“I know,” muttered Genji before turning his engine up to full blast and blazing ahead.

[mysterylover123]

BNHA Rewatch: Episode 41 “Kota”

mysterylover123

OK so just a few comments about my last post before we get into it!

First of all, like I predicted, it did get flagged, but quickly restored. Secondly, an ask pointed out that the scene with Bakugo reprimanding Deku about Tomura is not, actually, in the episode. I’m not sure why I thought it was, but oh well. I’ll try and double check next time before I post the recap. Anyway, off to recap-ville. Episode 41 time!

Quirk training! The anime seriously elaborated on this from the manga, where it was just a few pages.

WOOF. At this point Todoroki has spent more screen time in season 3 without clothes than with.

wow that looks like good cake. They did not skimp on the desserts here. 

FULL VERSION! Gotta say, Ragdoll and Tiger really round it out; it just looks kinda silly when it’s just Mandalay and Pixie Bob. They have a really impressive clatch of quirks too, ngl. 

I wish they’d given Deku more than basic boot camp training. I’m kinda split on how they handled Tiger being trans; on the one hand, he’s a cool hero who kicks serious ass and has respect, on the other the characters make a slightly disparaging remark about him...but that could be what a transgender person would deal with in reality, and this series isn’t exactly presenting a utopia...I don’t know, it’s the same way I feel about Pixie Bob’s age thing. I’d like to give it the benefit of the doubt and it could be a lot worse, but it could be a lot better, too.

Oh my. Breathless, finding-his-resolve Deku is giving me rather impure thoughts.

I’m not sure what purpose making them cook for themselves serves, honestly.  Iida tries to come up with one, but it kinda comes across like the WWP are just being lazy. The kids are training hard all day, wtf is wrong with having food pre-prepared for them?

Maybe it was just for another excuse to humiliate Bakugo. At this point, he hasn’t even done anything. Karma just hates him.

Or to give us this shot of Momo and her main love interests. Momo standing up for Shoto’s rights, cute TDDMM moment!

Aw poor Kacchan!

Feels overload! Also, kinda low-key ship Todo/Ochaco sometimes. I dunno, they seem like they’d have a good repertoire.

Wow Momo’s getting a lot of moments this episode ain’t she!

Deku is inexplicably drawn to pissed off, antisocial spiky-haired punks who seem like they need saving from their own temper, ain’t he? (Good god Kota looks like a BKDK lovechild in this scene, doesn’t he? Same Kacchan eyes).

BEHOLD, THE SINGLE SADDEST IMAGE SET COMMITTED TO SCREEN! OMG THE FEELS. (Someone give me a firebending Deku au fanfic, please!)

Toga’s complaining about how not-cute her outfit is. I think the fanbase would disagree.

Dabi sure loves monologuing, doesn’t he? Maybe he isn’t Toya after all; the other Todoroki’s don’t like to talk this much. Anyway, cute sleeping babies!

OMG Bakugo’s shirt. It’s like he wanted to remind us that he’s cut too, ya’ll. Deku isn’t the only one with abs of steel. (I think Kaminari’s the one under the pillows). 

Poor remedial course babies! I feel them. I’ve been having bouts of insomnia lately, like, 4 hours of sleep type, and I can’t imagine that schedule they’re on. Honestly, I know they’re trying to make ‘em stronger, but depriving them of good food and sleep is not going to help with that. I’m pretty sure most workout advisors advocate keeping your basic needs provided for for maximum performance.

Aizawa is telling Ochaco and Aoyama that they nearly failed. I think this is an important point that all the people who try and excuse the Uraraka/Aoyama v 13 fight need to remember. Even Aizawa called them out on their mess up. It was a fluke, and there’s something deeper getting in the way of their success. Everyone else either passed by changing, or failed by refusing to change. These two need to be challenged in the same way, or they’ll never change for the better.

The dream 3some is finishing each other’s thoughts! Wow, that used to just be a BKDK thing, but Shoto has effectively nudged his way in there. Also, I love the symbolism of Kacchan looking at his own reflection here. Visual metaphors!

“Is All Might - I mean, the other teachers, coming?” Haha Deku don’t even pretend like you care about any of the other teachers.

Oh I see that’s why we had to have them cook their food! So we could prove who secret best girl really is. And tease Kacchako a little. At this point I’m not sure who most wants a threesome with the Wonder Duo, Uraraka or Todoroki.

Ooh, Shoto’s gaining on her!

Honestly, this is one of my favorite Tododeku moments. I kinda like their smaller moments even more than the “big” moments with these two, where they’re having dramatic stuff. The little stuff like Shoto giving Deku such emotionally intelligent advice. It’s very strong.

Expectations vs reality

Team Animal Bromance Solidarity

Team Just F*ck Already

Team Maximum Cuteness

Team Saved Bakugo and Tokoyami’s Asses

Team Femslash Initiative

Team Poor Ojiro

Team Polar Opposites

Oh no my bbs all alone! I’ll be your teammate Deku!

Everyone on Team Ojiro is unsatisfied.

Tsuchaco begins!

OMG THEY’RE SO CUTE! (THE TODOBAKU ARC!)

NGL, Yui Kodai is really pretty and has a legit awesome quirk. Underrated Best Girl of Class 1B.

Holy Shit that Music tho! The League of Villains is In the Building! (Metaphorically, anyway)

This is the arc where I stopped thinking of the LOV as boring obstacles and started seeing them as kinda awesome.

“Kota” really picks up the momentum of Season 3, throwing us straight into a “holy crap” plotsplosion with little adieu. There’s a little more setup to go before we just jump straight into the chaotic, violent and transformative Training Camp Arc in the upcoming episodes. I pretty much binge-watched the whole first 12 episodes of Season 3 in one sitting the first time I watched it, so I don’t know what it would be like to watch these week to week. Next up: BEST BOY DEKU’S ARMS WILL NEVER BE THE SAME.

BKDK CORNER:

Nothing really in the actual episode, but I wanna acknowledge Best OP’s heartbreaking BKDK nod:

“don’t come deku” OMG episode 45 is gonna break my heart all over again in’t it?

Also the ED:

“Cause I LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE this place” (Todoroki’s sitting with them too for some bonus TDBKDK points.) Subtle, Bones. We know which way your bread is buttered.

BEST GIRL OF THE EP: Mandalay!

RANKER: The Test of Courage Teams

8. Ojiro and Mineta (poor Ojiro!)

7. Iida and Koda (normally Iida’d be pretty cool, but this team does basically nothing)

6. Jiro and Tooru (get knocked out pretty quickly.

5. Momo and Aoyama (they seriously saved everyone)

4. Solo Deku (who is better than most on his own and also saved Kota)

3. Tokoyami and Shoji (who are seriously metal)

2. Uraraka and Asui (another seriously awesome duo)

1. Todoroki and Bakugo (just add Deku for maximum perfection)

[somsesh]

undefined

I don’t know where to start writing from about this. I guess I will start from the beginning. I think the last time I really lazed around for a week and binge watched a show was back in December, 2018. Netflix had just released it’s German mystery show, Dark. I watched the first episode and I was hooked. Apart from the beautiful use of colour, excellent cast of actors and engaging storyline, the show was so quote worthy. Even a police officer had weighted words to say that you could ponder over. The best thing that the creators of the show did was that they knew clearly how long the show will run for and a clear vision ahead made them package the story tightly. At any point, it would have been so easy to let the story be overwhelming and go disarray, but this jumble of threads intertwined intelligently to the basic human instinct and tugged at it to get past this wild ride of multiplicity of existence. 

Now, I have been really bogged down with house chores. Due to the pandemic, we have chosen not to keep a help as we have a one year old daughter and the grandparents have comorbidity that puts them in high risk category. This means doing all the work at home and entertain my daughter. Although, she is the only reason we are getting through this lockdown without losing our minds, but I hardly get any time to work in substantial amounts, and then to top it all, my iPad stopped working last week. 

When it comes to work, spending time on my book was the only thing I looked forward to, and with the iPad gone I have been feeling frustrated because all the momentum I gathered on the book has fizzled away. I like to see the pages coming together one by one. There is a sense of accomplishment in it that gives me the push to keep working on it. Unfortunately, there is a lockdown till end of July, so I have to wait to get the device serviced. Feeling down with all of this, I decided to work on something that would make me look above my misery. That’s how I started work on the poster for Dark.

I had been sitting on this idea after watching Season 2. I wanted to show the vortex of the journey the main character takes, and how he plays into the inner mind of his future self. The cave, the stranger in hood, and the disfigured skin of Adam all came together as one thing leading the other. As usual, I sketched the idea down quickly and rushed down to inking it. Now, I love inking and I find it meditative, but I have realised over the years that I have played into the hands of this love for inking a little too blindly. Often I enjoy the process, but the end result feels far away from what the idea was in my head. I think of the composition and the finished piece in colour, but when I execute in black lines of ink, the heaviness of it is hard to get rid of, even when I get down to colouring it digitally. I decided to do things differently this time and abandoned the inked part halfway. I have a very ancient Wacom tablet, the basic one. After being spoilt of the pressure sensitivity of the iPad, I have been using the Wacom mainly for editing drawings or flat applications, but I had to do more with it this time. I decided to work with block of colours and sketched the idea digitally in such a way that the idea remain intact. The play of light on the walls of the cave had to come out dramatically to create the right effect. While working on the sketch, the idea of doing the title with Play, Repeat icons came up that I tried integrating. I believed it would be a playful representation of time travel. I then started fleshing out the details by focusing solely on play of light and creating the enigmatic environment. 

Unlike my usual rushed execution, I feel I took time over this. I worked deliberately on it in the earlier stages and shifted gears only towards the end because the chores won’t let me be and the weekdays waiting ahead are not that merciful. 

The final piece is in A2 size. If you wish to buy an Archival print of it then please write to me on somsesh@gmail.com. The prints will be available in A2, A3 and A4 sizes.

Thank you for your time!

[unnaturalsolace]

Winter 2020 Anime Season

Finally caught up with this season when it’s more than halfway over, but I figured I’d do a little write-up of what I’m watching in case people are interested!

Currently watching

Dorohedoro: I think this might be my AOTS. I read the manga a long while ago and I know it ended kinda recently (last year?) However I don’t really remember too much of the specific events, although I vaguely remember the plot. But I think the anime has done a great job conveying the world of Dorohedoro, where every little detail and event just seems super insane but still all fits together somehow. I just love the worldbuilding so much. And the characters and comedy are right down my alley. I don’t even care about the 3DCG, it really isn’t bad. And I really love Caiman’s voice. I hope the anime makes it to the introduction of the cross-eyes gang but probably not, with only 5 episodes left that would have to cover like 17 chapters. Listen to this cool OP!

Haikyuu!!: Riku vs. Kuu and To the Top: Tbh I stopped reading the manga some time around the end of season 3, so I honestly have no idea what’s happening this season and it’s all new to me. I do know that there’s apparently a timeskip in recent chapters, but I’m pretty sure there’s still a while to go before the anime gets there. Definitely still enjoying the anime, albeit perhaps less enthusiastic about it when it first started airing.

Id:Invaded: This is an original anime, so all I knew about it was just the synopsis. But honestly this would have been my AOTS if not for Dorohedoro. First episode was a great hook and I’ve really been enjoying every episode since. The premise is very interesting (although I’ll admit some of the id-well stuff is hard for me to follow). The main characters are pretty solid, I like how Hondoumachi looks like she’d fall into that weird “adult character looks and acts like a teenager” trope but no, she actually acts like an adult, which is nice. And I hope we get more Sakaido-Anaido bro shenanigans. Listen to this cool ED!

Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun: I tried reading the manga before, but I dropped it because it got kinda boring, and a little too shoujo-y. I think the anime has done a pretty good job of making it less boring at least. And it’s very pretty. But the characters are still kinda meh for me. 

number24: I really only started watching this because of cute boys and sports. But honestly the MC is the only thing carrying this show, so I’ll probably drop it soon. And it hasn’t really gotten me interested in rugby, unlike...

Runway de Waratte: I read the manga before the show aired, and the manga is really great. I hope it gets a physical release because I would definitely buy it. I honestly had no interest in fashion design but this is actually really interesting. I think the anime is doing a great job of adapting the manga. Listen to this cool OP! Listen to this cool ED!

Stuff I dropped

Boku no Tonari ni Ankoku Hakaishin ga Imasu. (2 episodes): Gags weren’t that funny to me, and the MC was annoying.

Darwin’s Game (4 episodes): I remember reading some of the manga and dropping it. I tried the anime but lost interest again.

Eizouken ni wa Te wo Dasu na! (5 episodes): It’s definitely a unique anime. It was just kind of boring for me. I can tell a lot of heart was put into it, and I can see why other people like it, but I don’t think it’s my kind of thing.

Infinite Dendrogram (2 episodes): Kinda boring. Nothing really stood out.

Pet (2 episodes): Couldn’t get into this one. Also I don’t like the character designs.

Rikei ga Koi ni Ochita no de Shoumei shitemita. (8 episodes): It was kind of funny at first, but I got bored over time. I like how everyone was constantly wearing lab coats just so you were definitely sure they were scientists.

Somali to Mori no Kamisama (7 episodes): It was cute at first, but it didn’t really feel like much was happening. I think it’s hard for me to watch SOL anime, I’m pretty peculiar about it. Listen to this cool ED!

Uchi Tama?! Uchi no Tama Shirimasen ka? (7 episodes): Also cute at first, and I liked the cat designs. But I eventually got bored as well. Listen to this cool OP!

Stuff from last season since I never had time to make a post about Fall 2019

Honestly nothing from Fall 2019 really stood out to me, besides Hoshiai no Sora.

Actors: Songs Connection (dropped at 5 episodes): I think there was some kind of supernatural shit going on in the background, but I never got interested enough to want to watch more.

Ahiru no Sora (dropped at 12 episodes): I think it’s a decent basketball series. I personally dropped it because it was a little too old-school for me, with lots of old shounen cliches. It felt rather dated.

Babylon (dropped at 2 episodes): Honestly don’t remember why I dropped it, probably got bored. I heard it kinda drops the ball later though.

Beastars (completed): Pretty decent adaptation, the 3DCG looked good to me. I’m still reading the manga, although I think it was better earlier.

Hataage! Kemono Michi (completed): Kind of a hit and miss for me, some times I really enjoyed the comedy, other times it was boring. But I ended up finishing it anyway.

Hoshiai no Sora (completed): I really liked this. I thought the animation was very comfortable and I liked the MC and the gameplay. Shame that it got axed or whatever happened to it.

Mugen no Juunin: Immortal (dropped at 14 episodes): I think it’s a pretty cool anime. I think the reason why I dropped it was because it felt like things were happening really fast and I was losing track of what was going on. I might pick it back up later.

Mairimashita! Iruma-kun (dropped at 20 episodes): I read the manga although I haven’t been keeping up lately. I think the adaptation was kinda subpar. They really slowed things down during the festival arc and that kinda killed the momentum for me so I dropped it.

No Guns Life (dropped at 6 episodes): Something else I dropped because I lost interest. I don’t think I really liked any of the characters.

Ore wo Suki nano wa Omae dake ka yo (completed): I watched this since I thought it would subvert expectations, although it kind of ended up becoming a normal harem anime anyways. Great animation though, although the lips really bothered me.

Shinchou Yuusha: Kono Yuusha ga Ore Tsueee Kuse ni Shinchou Sugiru (completed): I had read the first couple of chapters and I thought it was really funny. The anime went past the scanlation, and I think it held up decently well. Little bit of a sudden twist at the end that I can’t really say was done well or bad.

And that’s all! Sorry it was pretty long. I haven’t had much free time lately so everything kinda just came out all at once.

[noaoats]

Adrien Learns How to Ride a Bike

cross-posted on ao3 here

“Marinette learns that her boyfriend can’t ride a bike. She decides to fix that.”

Chapters:1/?; Words: 3,452; pure Adrienette fluff

---

Ladybug knew that her powers and identity were based on the concept of good luck, but sometimes she just felt really lucky.

She was currently on a beam near the top of the Eiffel Tower with her head in her boyfriend’s lap. The two had ended patrol early and were content to spend time together before each had to return to their homes. Ladybug’s eyes were closed as she rested. Chat was humming a song and dragging his fingers through her hair while looking down over the city.

His claws scratched gently on her scalp and her toes wiggled in bliss. “What are you humming?” she asked.

“A song my mother used to sing when I was younger. I was afraid of storms, so she’d sing to keep me calm if it began to thunder. I don’t remember the words, but the tune gets stuck in my head from time to time.”

“It’s beautiful. Maybe we can try to look the song up sometime.”

Chat separated a portion of hair and began to braid it. “I would love that.”

She willed herself to stay awake. She had despised going to bed as a kid and her mother had always played with her hair to help her fall asleep. During sleepovers she loved to play with Alya’s hair, but occasionally the other girl would braid hers and it would knock her out. The comfort of being with Chat coupled with the warm afternoon sun was making it difficult not to drift to sleep hundreds of feet above Paris.

Chat’s voice roused her as he continued talking. “We still haven’t planned our date for Saturday. My father confirmed again that I could take a few hours off so I’m free until evening. And the weather is supposed to be nice. What do you want to do? Hang out up here?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure,” she said. “We haven’t gone on many dates as ourselves, you know? We’re always transformed. We could… watch a movie. Or go swimming, since cats love the water so much.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“What about a bike ride along the Seine? We could go until we find a nice spot for a picnic. I’ll bring a blanket for us to sit on and some food. Or we could try to cook something together beforehand if you have time! My bike has a basket.”

He paused while braiding her hair. “Um… what about a picnic at the park near your house?”

“I mean, we could, I just figured it would be nice to try something new. That’s where we always eat lunch during school, plus bike rides are fun! I haven’t ridden mine much since I was a kid, and even then I really only ever used it to bike over to Nino’s house for playdates.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s just that…” His voice sounded strained, and she opened her eyes to see if he was okay. His forehead was creased in thought and his cheeks were pink. “Um. We could just walk, instead. And not go as far since I can’t stay for too long.”

She giggled. “What, don’t tell me you can’t ride a bike.”

When he grimaced again the smile dropped from her face. She had made a major mistake. “Oh. Oh, Chat, I didn’t mean to-”

“No!” he interrupted. His face turned red as he realized that he had cut her off, and he patted her forehead awkwardly as if to apologize. “No, don’t feel bad, it’s okay. It’s just kind of embarrassing, is all. What kind of kid our age doesn’t know how to ride a bike?”

She pushed his hand aside and sat up next to him. “Lots of people! It’s nothing to be embarrassed about!”

“Yeah, I bet. Name one other person.”

“I… Alright.” Ladybug looked around dramatically as if to ensure no one could hear them way up on the tower, making Chat laugh. She leaned closer to whisper. “You can’t tell anyone, okay? I was sworn to secrecy, and I know for a fact that this person will hunt me down if they find out I told you. We made this blood pact back in CE 2. You mean a lot for me to break a promise like that.”

“Blood pact?”

She shrugged. “We were wrestling and gave each other bloody noses. We wiped the blood on our hands and then made a pinky promise. It was very serious when we were eight.”

His nose crinkled. “That’s disgusting.”

“Eh, we were kids. More importantly, do you swear to take this secret to the grave?”

“Yes,” he said. “Yes. Please. Tell me this life and death secret. What other poor soul can’t ride a bike?”

Her voice dropped even lower. “Kim. Kim can’t ride a bike.”

Chat looked stunned. He stared at her for a few moments. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. And not even Alix knows that.”

“Huh.”

“So you see!” She bumped shoulders with him. “If even the great Kim can’t ride a bike, it’s obviously not that big of a deal. Did it scare you as a kid? Or did you forget how to do it?”

“Well, firstly, it is a big deal if you literally exchanged blood over it. Seriously, that’s just wrong.” He looked down at his hands in his lap. “And secondly, no. I just never learned. My parents were going to teach me, but then my mom disappeared, and my father… The Gorilla tried once but he obviously didn’t know how to teach. He just told me to put on a helmet and go, and I didn’t know what to do with that. Then I was banned from ‘dangerous activities’ that could ruin my modeling career.”

Ladybug fell silent, processing her partner’s words. Knowing how to ride a bike wasn’t the most important skill a person could have, but it was one that had brought her a lot of joy. She also knew how much Adrien loved being able to transform and race around, and biking could bring a similar sense of freedom in his civilian form. He was also rich enough to buy a bike without any hassle if he ended up loving it.

Her mind was made up.

“Alright, that’s it. This Saturday, I’m teaching you how to ride a bike.”

-

“Marinette, I don’t know about this.”

Adrien was sitting uncomfortably on her bike, tilted to one side as he shifted around on the seat. She had switched the bike’s gears and elevated the seat to accommodate him but the whole thing felt awkward. He did like the bike’s design, though- it was a pretty light blue with small gold bells on the handles. Clinking them had been fun at first, but now that he was actually about to ride they felt like they were in the way of his hands.

“Don’t be a scaredy-cat.” Marinette handed him a matching blue helmet. “I promise to help you, and I’ll run alongside you when you go, okay? If you begin to panic just… fall on me and I’ll catch you.”

“I’m not going to crush you with a bike!”

She flipped a hand. “Whatever, I’ve been through worse. You’re the model that can’t get banged up. Alright, so put this on your head. It clicks under your chin; you want it to be tight but not uncomfortable.”

Adrien followed her directions. He had assumed that the helmet would feel strange on his head, but he was used to so many weird head pieces from modeling that he barely noticed it. His girlfriend rapped on the side of it once it was in place and he rolled his eyes. “It’s on, Mari.”

“Just checking. Okay, so getting started… I’m actually not sure what the best way to explain this is.” Her eyes darted back to the bakery across the street. “Wait! I have an idea!”

He knew that look. “Don’t leave me here on the bike!” he hissed. It was too late, though. She had already sped off in the direction of her home and left him stranded in the middle of the park. He still didn’t know what he was doing, but having her there had made him feel less awkward. He avoided the looks of other groups strolling past and shifted his weight from foot to foot. Was it weird for people to just stand around on a bike? He had never noticed, but he also had never paid attention to it. He was sure that he looked stupid.

Just as he was about to climb off and walk the bike back here was a thump to his right and he turned to see Marinette sprawled on the ground. She just jumped back up and kept going. In her hands was a giant, empty box. “We have so many of these from all the ingredients we order. I thought this might be easier.” She plopped it down next to him and sat down on it, lifting her hands to grab onto imaginary handlebars. “See?”

He snorted. “Love your bike.”

“Thanks, cardboard is in this season.” She winked. “Okay, so you move forward by pushing the pedals like this.” Her feet rotated next to the box in a circle, and he looked down at the real pedals near his feet. That seemed simple enough. “You have to do some balancing at the start, but once you get going the bike just takes off.”

“What if I start to tilt?”

“Well, you either fall or you don’t. But seriously, once you get some momentum you’ll be fine. And you steer with the handles, like this.” She demonstrated and he copied her with the real handles, twisting the front wheel against the pavement. “To stop…” She leaned back and bit her lip. “Hmm. Normally there are brakes on the handles you can squeeze to stop. It’s those small silver things there. But mine don’t really work that well ‘cause they’re so old. You’ll need to start pedalling slower and squeeze the brakes, and then I usually slide my feet on the ground to help myself slow to a stop.”

He blinked. “What do you mean, your brakes don’t work? I thought this was supposed to be safe!”

“It is! A lot of people have broken or missing parts. Riding a fully functional bike doesn’t count as a true biking experience, don’t worry.” The box was thrown in a nearby recycling bin before she stepped next to him to put her hands on his shoulders. “Alright, so at first you’re going to pedal slowly and I’m going to help you stay upright. I won’t let go, okay? We’re just going to go around the park.”

“Wait, what? Now?”

“Uh, yeah? When else, silly?”

This was happening too quickly for Adrien, but he reluctantly nodded. “You promise you won’t let go?”

“I promise, chaton.”

“Alright.” His foot hesitantly pressed down on a pedal and the bike squeaked, rolling forward a few inches. Marinette helped him balance himself so that he could lift his other foot off the ground and push the other pedal. The bike jerked forward but he stayed upright, gripping tightly. “Whoah!”

“You’ve got it! Keep going!”

He smiled at the encouragement and pressed again with his first foot, and then again with his second. Marinette was still mostly responsible for keeping him from falling, but he slowly began to circle the perimeter of the park. A part of him was anxious that others would be watching, but the thrill of the bushes and trees passing by him was too exciting to let himself get distracted. He was riding a bike! “I’m doing it!”

“You’re doing great, Adrien!”

The smooth walking path made pedalling easy, and he started to pedal faster. Marinette shuffled, then began to jog to keep up. “If you go faster I can’t hold on,” she yelped, stumbling over her feet as he went around a bend.

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it! Let go!”

She laughed and finally released his shoulders. Without the resistance the bike flew forward. Adrien was filled with glee as he spun around the last curve in the park and began making his way back toward the entrance. Marinette had been right, it was easy enough once he had built up some momentum. He could hear her running behind him now, still cheering.

“Look at you! You’re riding a bike!”

“I’m riding a bike!”

He took one more lap around the park and then decided to stop before he pressed his luck too far. He shifted his hands to reach the brakes and pressed them. Like Marinette had promised, his bike began to slow but didn’t jerk him to a stop. The handles tilted wildly under his hands for a moment from the grab, but he quickly righted himself. Marinette had caught up at this point and was gesturing toward his feet. “No brakes!”

“Right.” His feet hit the ground harder than he meant for them to, but the friction of his sneakers against the pavement helped him slide to a quick stop. The bike came to rest right before a bench where a couple was sitting. They smiled at him and gave him a thumbs up. He returned it.

“Adrien!” There was a tight squeeze against his abdomen and he looked down to see Marinette giving him a strong hug. He smiled and awkwardly patted her arms while extracting himself from the bike. It loudly collapsed to the ground, but neither of them cared. “That was so awesome! How did it feel?”

“It was… really nice! I definitely need to practice more before going out on the roads or anything, but I’m glad you convinced me to try this. You were an excellent teacher. Can we try again some other time?”

“Absolutely! Now are you ready for our picnic?” She flashed him a mischievous look. “I want to introduce you to one more thing.”

-

Marinette whooped as they flew down the path lining the Seine. Adrien’s grip was almost painful on her shoulders, but she could hear him laughing behind her as well. They had dug up her mother’s old helmet to double-up on the bike. Marinette was steering and Adrien was holding on behind her with his feet on the back wheel hub. He had been anxious at first, but now they were both dizzy and elated as the river sped past them.

“Up there! Up there!” Adrien yelled in her ear. His fingers were still tight on her shirt, and she assumed that he didn’t feel sturdy enough to lift a hand and point. She scanned the area ahead and found a small bench and grassy area right next to the river bank on their right.

“I see it!”

The bike zoomed over and she began to squeeze on the brakes as they rolled down a slight hill. Adrien held her closer as the momentum shifted but was silent as she slammed her shoes down to break their slide. The bike tilted dangerous to the right as they turned, but it gradually rolled to a stop in the grass. Adrien slumped over her shoulder. “Marinette, oh my god. That was so much fun. Why don’t we do that all the time?”

She booped his nose. “Because of a certain mothman we hate. But we can do it more often! I didn’t know if you would like it or not, and honestly I had forgotten I had a bike. I should really start riding it to school again.” Their food had somehow remained in the basket, and she passed the bag to Adrien as he hopped off the back of the bike. “It would keep me from having to sprint after sleeping in.”

“You know, you could just not sleep in.”

“Yeah, but what’s the fun in that?”

They spread the blanket out on the grass and set up their lunches- plain baguettes, small salads, and an orange to split. Plagg and Tikki were content to stay in the bike basket and hang out, and Marinette didn’t disturb them. She enjoyed being alone with Adrien. Well, as alone as they could be with two tiny gods always keeping them company.

Adrien had already scarfed down half of his lunch, moaning in delight. “I don’t understand,” he grumbled, mouth full of food. “Why would you ever leave your place to get food? You could eat this great all the time. I’d never stop eating.”

Crumbs trickled down his shirt and she reached over to shake the fabric and knock them off. “You have a chef. And you’re going to choke if you keep eating like that.”

“At least I’d die doing what I love. Eating food made by the Dupain-Cheng’s.”

She swatted playfully at him before digging into her own lunch. They mostly ate in silence, taking in the moment. The sky was beautiful and the park they had found was surprisingly clear of tourists. They were sitting near a bush of flowers she found absolutely lovely, and they had sat as close to the river as possible. It would have been nicer without the gates blocking them from falling in, but she still appreciated being near it. Adrien seemed to catch her gaze. “Wonder if it’ll ever be clean enough to swim in?”

That made her laugh. “I’d say when pigs fly, but that might actually happen with some of the weird akumas Papillon has made. Still, it’s pretty. If it wouldn’t definitely give me E. coli, I’d jump in.”

“I’ve never gone swimming anywhere that wasn’t a pool,” Adrien admitted. “Not saying that I’d swim in the Seine- that’s nasty. But it would be cool to find a lake or something and get in. Nino’s family goes rafting a lot at Cergy-Pontoise. It sounds fun.”

Marinette felt a pang of sympathy in her chest. “You didn’t get to do much fun stuff as a kid, huh? Or now.”

“I mean, I hung out with Chloe some. We would go shopping together or goof off during big social events. That was fun.”

“Yeah, but that’s not…” She sat up straight, grabbing his hands. “Have you ever used roller blades? Tried using a pogo-stick? Jump roped? Climbed something you weren’t supposed to?” He frowned and wiggled his ring finger. “Obviously not as Chat Noir. Like I used to try and climb this giant tree in the park across from my house. I wasn’t supposed to but I did it anyway, and I ended up falling and breaking my arm. Anything like that?”

He paused to think. “Hmm. I was allowed to go ice skating some, but not much. And I did fencing. That’s about it.”

“That’s it, then.”

“What is?”

She stood up and brushed fake dust off her pants for the dramatic flair. Her hands slammed on her hips and she puffed out her chest. “I have decided what our next few dates will be. You and I will be giving Adrien Agreste a childhood. And we’ll start with rollerblading.”

“Really?” Adrien didn’t get up, but he looked overjoyed. She really did get lucky. He was so cute. “Can we really?”

“Really really. Hold on, I have some paper in my purse.” The notepad was resting next to the two kwamis in the bike basket, and she waved at them before reaching in to grab it. “Let’s come up with a list of things you’ve always wanted to do but never got the chance to. We can go ahead and write down riding a bike, and put a check next to it.” She sat down next to him and started scribbling in her lap. “What else would you like to do?”

“I love you.”

“Okay, I love y-” She stopped writing, realizing what he had said. Her cheeks were probably burning. It didn’t matter how long they dated, he always took her breath away when he said that. And he was giving her such a soft look, how could she not turn into a romantic puddle in front of him? She smiled. “I love you, too. What was that for?”

Adrien scooted closer. “Nothing. I just love you, and I like to say it.” The peck on her cheek was unexpected and she felt her face grow hotter. “Plus you’ve been showing off all day; it’s fun to make you blush.”

“I’m not-!” He was already laughing at her. “Okay, hot-shot. For real, we need to make this list.” She pushed forward onto her stomach so that she could write on the ground, and she used her legs to shove him over. “What do you want to add?”

He wriggled over next to her and leaned closer to see what she was writing. “Alright, alright. I was thinking we could add…”