#halfway through my barrage of shifts

[hauntedestheart]

Confidence Booster (Male Bodyswap)

Part 1:

Hector Rivera had woken up that morning in bed missing forty pounds of muscle, six inches of height, and four inches... somewhere else. So already that was a bad start to his day- but then when he'd stumbled into the bathroom and looked into the mirror, it had gotten a whole lot worse.

Ray Baldwin. He'd been turned into fuck Ray Baldwin! He didn't have anything against the guy but he was just so... not like Hector.

In many ways the two were complete opposites: while Hector was bold and outgoing, a natural leader, Ray was more reserved and docile, a meek follower. These personality traits extended to their physicalities as well, with Hector being a towering specimen of manhood (built like a brick house) while Ray was short and slender (a textbook geek, pun intended). And now Hector was short and slender while Ray... where was Ray?

As a small blessing, Hector had still been in in his own bedroom, but everything looked out of place because of his shorter vantage point and it made him feel a bit like an intruder. His phone was still on the bedside table where he'd left it before and when he finally got his wits about him to check it he found a barrage of texts from Ray waitinf for him. While most of them were panicked nonsense, Hector gathered from some of the more sane ones that Ray was making his way over on foot. Meaning Hector's body was out there wandering the streets without him!

Of course Hector wasn't going to sit around and wait- he set out to meet Ray halfway. Mortifyingly, the only thing he had that fit his new body were an old hoodie that a girl had left at his place and a pair of athletic shorts that managed to stay up when he tightened the drawstring all the way (and even then they still hung down past his knees), but he didn't have any other options so he gritted his teeth and walked out the door dressed like a clown. He was halfway to Ray's place when he spotted a tall brown hunk stumbling down the street with a confused look on his face- Hector's face.

He'd choked on air at the sight of his real body- he couldn't believe the outfit Ray had crammed his body into! The white tank top was practically transparent, his nipples plainly visible as his pecs strained against the fabric, and the skimpy shorts left nothing to the imagination. His entire body was on display for anyone who walked by to see!

Being trapped in Ray's body was bad enough, but seeing his incredible body on display before him was just salt in the wound. The two men locked eyes, and Ray let out a little whimper.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Hector hissed, staring in horror at the clothes the muscular young man standing before him was stuffed into.

Ray, seeming just as uncomfortable as Hector was, grimaced. "When I woke up this morning your body tore through my clothes and this was the only thing I had that fit." Ray crossed his arms for a little pout, which made his biceps bulge, and it was Hector's turn to grimace. "I lost the shirt I got on my trip to Texas! I loved that shirt."

"Will you forget about your old shirt? I look like a stripper playing a track and field star!" Hector lamented, eying the too tight shirt and the too short shorts distastefully.

"It's not my fault, it's this body!" Ray exclaimed. He threw his arms out to the side for emphasis, stretching them out to their full impressive wingspan. "These shorts are usually baggy on me but your body just has a lot more going on down there. You're just so... big."

Hector's face grew dark and his temples began to throb. How dare this guy talk about Hector's body like it belonged to him!

"I want my body back right now," he snapped, and Ray shrunk back.

"And trust me, I'd give it to you if I could!" Ray sounded completely genuine when he said this, a slight whimper to his voice as he shifted himself around. From the way he held himself it was clear that he was uncomfortable in his new body, and he confirmed it a moment later. "I feel like the Incredible Hulk right now in a bad way, I'm all... bulgey!" He shuddered as he said this, and then winced when the motion made his package jiggle. He sighed with exasperation and stomped his foot, gesturing towards the bulge in his shorts. "And I'm tired of this thing bouncing around!"

Hector gaped. "Dude, stop manhandling my junk in public!"

"Sorry, it's just..." Ray reached down and adjusted his crotch, pushing down on it in an attempt to flatten it out, but the soft flesh immediately bounced back. "How do you deal with this thing? It's always in the way!"

Ray frowned down at his new junk, barely hidden by his shorts, and he jostled it around as he searched for some mystical position that would make it go away. Almost defiantly, as if it were mad at the notion of being hidden, Hector's penis elected to grow instead.

The real Hector's eyes widened as he watched his old body growing aroused. "Dude, cover that up now!"

Ray stared in horror at the obscene bulge forming in his shorts, only semi-hard and already straining at the fabric.

"Oh no!" He shouted, doubling over and placing both hands over his crotch in a desperate attempt to block his growing erection from view. "Sorry, it's just, your penis is so much bigger than mine and I–"

Hector winced at the comment and shuffled uncomfortably, trying desperately not to think about what he'd seen when he'd taken a piss that morning. "Trust me, I'm painfully aware of the size difference."

"I'm so sorry Hector," Ray gushed, tears brimming in his eyes. "I didn't mean to disrespect you and-"

And then he started crying in earnest, which meant Hector was stuck with a six foot tall hunk wearing what was basically lingerie sobbing in the middle of the sidewalk with a full boner- he hated his life. It was early in the morning so the two were alone, but they were still on an open street, and Hector needed to calm Ray down fast.

"Stop apologizing, okay?" He said firmly, reaching up to grab his own shoulders and squeezing them with as much might as he could muster. Something about it must have gotten through to Ray because he paused in his sobs and looked at Hector, who did his best to smile reassuringly. "Look, it's just- I know we're both freaked out about this, but stressing out and losing our minds isn't gonna help anybody. We need to calm down, okay? Just, take a deep breath or something."

"A deep breath, yeah, okay, I can do that," Ray babbled, and then his massive chest heaved up and down. His breaths were frantic at first, but gradually, he relaxed.

"Feeling better?" Hector asked, and Ray nodded. "Okay good. Now, do you have any clue how this happened?"

"No, I just woke up this morning and I was like this! I had to sneak out the window this morning so my family wouldn't see me–" A panicked expression crossed Ray's face. "Oh no, what am I going to tell my family? I can't go home looking like this!"

"You aren't going to tell them anything, because if we tell them we switched bodies they're going to send us to the loony bin," Hector said firmly, and then he scoffed. "And by the way, looking like that is a goddamn blessing, okay? Show some respect to my body."

"Sorry, it's just–" Ray shuffled uncomfortably and fiddled with his hands, his meek body language looking rather out of place on Hector's hulking body. "I'm not really used to being a big guy like this."

Hector sighed and rubbed at his temples, fighting an oncoming headache. He may be small now, but he was clearly going to have to be the leader in this situation.

"Don't worry, we'll figure this out, okay?" Hector finally said, and Ray nodded in relief. "But until then, we don't do anything to draw attention to ourselves, okay? We just lay low for a while."

Ray smiled with his handsome new face. "Definitely."

Part 2:

Ray was not laying low.

Research into getting their own bodies back was going slowly (Google search results for "men switching bodies" just turned up online erotica) but perhaps it would be going faster if Hector had some help. Unfortunately, Ray was too busy making an ass of himself to pitch in... which normally wouldn't be a problem, except he was using Hector's ass to do it.

See, Ray had realized what Hector had known all along: being hot is fun. After the initial shock of waking up in a different body had faded, Ray had taken stock of what he'd gained in the swap, and he found he liked it.

For one thing, he had pecs now. Pecs. Huge slabs of muscle that jutted out from his chest that jiggled when he jumped up and down. Tight, perfectly formed, and with a pretty brown nipple at the peak of each- he hadn't been able to resist giving them a little squeeze, and he'd nearly fallen down when one of his fingers grazed one of his nipples and it sent shockwaves of pleasures throughout his body. His old sunken chest certainly hadn't been this fun!

And down below those pecs were the abs, which he was really a fan of. As a skinny guy, he'd always had a flat stomach, but he quickly realized there was a difference between having a flat stomach and having a toned stomach. Ray didn't know how many sit ups Hector had done in his lifetime to get those cheese grater abs, but he was glad he'd done them.

Big arms were nice too. Ray had a habit of scratching behind his head and he noticed that every time he did so eyes were always drawn the way his bulging biceps would flex when he lifted them- not that he could blame anyone for staring. It was a beautiful sight! Hector's arms were the part of body that belied his strength the most, almost intimidatingly large, and Ray quickly learned that many situations could be controlled just by crossing his arms and letting the muscles pop out.

The ass had taken a bit of getting used to (there had been several embarrassing incidents where he'd knocked things off of tables because he forgot to account for how much junk was in his new trunk) but Ray had quickly come to embrace it- in fact, he was embracing it often. He loved the feeling of the firm, supple flesh beneath his hands, which was surprisingly soft considering how tough the rest of Hector's body was. It was a proper bubble butt and it became Ray's favorite part to show off, ready to shake at a moment's notice.

And his new dick... Ray knew size wasn't everything, but he wasn't exactly opposed to getting an upgrade in that area. At first he'd been annoyed by the damn thing because it was nearly impossible to hide the bulge it made in his pants, and he felt like all eyes were on him when he was just trying to walk down the street. It wasn't his fault it looked like he was smuggling produce in his shorts!

But he didn't have to be self-conscious, he realized, because people weren't judging him. They were jealous of him. Lusting after him. They wanted what he had, one way or another, and he should be proud of it. So he stopped hunching over, stood up straight, and let everyone see what kind of man he was.

Not to mention the stamina of Hector's body was incredible. His cock was practically spring loaded, jumping to attention at the slightest hint of arousal, and being trapped in Hector's stupidly sexy body meant that Ray experienced that any time he so much as glanced down. He'd managed to hold out for two days before caving and seizing a hold of his manhood and pumping one out– and there was no turning back after that.

That orgasm had opened a floodgate in Ray. He already had a new body, but after that, he felt like a whole new man. And it turned out that man was a bit of a show-off.

While Hector was an outgoing guy, Ray had taken it to another level. He lost his shirt at any opportunity, eager to expose his new treasures to the world, and it was never long until his pants followed as well. It was excessive, but the sight of an adonis like Hector Rivera in his underwear, bulge swinging heavily, was something nobody wanted to complain about.

Invitations to parties and nights out were flooding in– everybody wanted to bring "Hector" along because sooner or later his shirt would come off... and he wasn't shy about letting people feel either. Ray was taking any opportunity he could to flaunt Hector's rippling muscles, and he was having the time of his life doing it.

The real Hector found it infuriating– one because Ray was making everyone in town think that he was an exhibitionist, and two because seeing his body flaunted in his face just reminded him of what he was missing.

If anything Ray was getting a bit too comfortable in Hector's body, which made the real Hector nervous. If Hector did find a way for them to switch back, would he even be able to convince Ray to take it?

Part 3:

"Ray, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Hector shouted, stomping down the driveway towards where Ray was making a display of himself jumping rope. Ray gave him an unimpressed look.

"What's it look like I'm doing? I'm working out," Ray kept jumping rope, which made his ample chest heave up and down; the sweat on his tan brown skin caught the light and made him glisten. "I wanna keep this body in shape after all."

"Okay, but why are you doing it shirtless in my front yard?" Hector protested, glancing around nervously. A few of his neighbors were milling about, not-so-subtly enjoying the show Ray was putting on for them, and Hector waved at them to look away. "Everyone can see you!"

"So?" Ray shrugged his broad shoulders. "I'll give 'em something to look at. You know your chest bounces, right?"

He sucked in a deep breath and puffed his chest out, creating an impressive sight as his bulging pecs jiggled obscenely with each bounce, and the jump rope dropped the floor while his two hands slid up his body and cupped around his pecs. In full view of everyone he began to squeeze them, and as he did so he smiled fondly down at them like they were beloved pets.

"Stop feeling my body up like that!" Hector hissed, and Ray rolled his eyes but planted his feet on the ground and lifted his hands up, palms open. Hector huffed in relief. "Thank you. Now can we–"

"Sorry, just gotta stretch for a second–" Ray interrupted him, and Hector blinked. Then Ray reached both of his arms back behind his neck, muscles popping as he bared his armpits, and arched his back so his hips thrust forwards like a stripper. Through the thin grey fabric of his sweatpants, it was obvious he wasn't wearing underwear. "Oh shit that feels so good."

He squinted his eyes shut and gave a groan of relief that was louder than strictly necessary that echoed down the street, and a passing car nearly crashed into a stop sign. Ray relaxed to a more normal pose and threw the dazed driver a wave and a wink.

"That keeps happening," he chuckled as he watched the car speed off down the street. Then he threw one muscular arm behind his head, baring a sweaty armpit for the world to see, while the other hand rubbed absently at the six-pack on his belly.

Hector's mouth was wide open in shock at the shameless display before him– what had happened to the shy Ray he knew? Hector's face reddened and he grabbed at Ray's arms, attempting to pull them down and tug the man back towards the house, but with Ray's skinny frame he had no chance of moving his former body even an inch. He gave up and tossed his hands in the air in frustration.

"You've gone mad with power," Hector gasped out.

Ray shook his head and shrugged. "Chill out Hector, I'm just having a little fun."

"You're acting like a cam boy is what you're doing," Hector snapped, crossing his skinny arms and narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "It just seems like you're getting a little too cozy in my body... almost like you don't even want to switch back."

Ray's shoulders slumped, and for a second Hector could see a glimpse of the shy guy he was more familiar with.

"Look, for the last time, I didn't do this! I miss my family and I miss my life," Ray sighed, but then shook his head and drew himself back up. "But since it happened, I'm gonna take advantage of it! Do you know what it was like to go from that–" he pointed at his original body. "to this?"

He spread his arms out and spun around, allowing Hector to take in the full view of the body that used to belong to him. Ray hadn't been lying about taking good care of it- perhaps it was just that he was seeing himself from the outside now, but Hector's body looked better than it had in his entire life.

"I went from being a beanpole to having B-cup tits and an ass you could balance a latte on!" Ray reached out to the side and flexed one of his arms, the toned muscle rising into a small mountain. "Your arms are wider than my neck! And your abs are probably harder than my bones." He tittered with excitement, but then his smile softened. "Getting to be you has been incredible and I just... I wanted to enjoy it. But I'm not evil Hector, if you find a solution, I'll give you your body back. Until then though? I'm gonna enjoy every second of it."

Hector frowned. His time in Ray's body, robbed of all of his physical advantages, had been quite a bad time for him, and Ray had to live with that all the time. Could he really blame the little guy for going a bit over the top?

"Okay, I'm still mad at you for acting like a whore," Hector chastised, and he watched Ray shrink before him, which was comforting in a way. Even with their bodies switched, they were still the same guys inside. "BUT, I get it. You officially have my blessing to have a little bit of fun- while we look for a solution;"

"Really? Thanks Hector!" Ray smiled, yanking the other man into a bone crushing hug. Hector winced in pain, but returned the embrace with good faith. "Tell you what, why don't we go research how to switch back right now, okay? Just let me wash off first."

Ray released Hector and then grabbed the hose from off the ground and lifted it to his face, spraying the water dramatically into his face and shaking out his hair. Water cascaded across his nearly naked body, falling like a waterfall from his pecs and trickling through the ridges created by his abs.

Hector swallowed. "Any chance you can do it less... sexually?"

"Nope."

[megaboy335]

10 Years of My Hero Academia

I have been an avid reader of Weekly Shonen Jump manga since I was a child, and later started following the magazine closely since around 2009. In that time I've witnessed countless titles start and finish. My Hero Academia is the rare kind of series that connects us from the previous generation of the magazine to its current era. It started in Issue 32, 2014 and finished in Issue 36-37, 2024. That makes it the 2nd oldest series in the line-up at the time of ending. Below is my review of the series. I give my thoughts on several of the story moments and give my final impressions. There will be spoilers and it's a long discussion.

Let's first flashback to the summer of 2014. I was in college preparing to spend my Junior year abroad in Japan. My Tumblr was very active and about to reach new highs with my presence in the Nisekoi fandom. In the Weekly Shonen Jump world, a generational shift was about to occur with the new debut of a new battle manga from a previously 2 time canceled author, Kohei Horikoshi.

Looking back on the issue when My Hero Academia started, we can clearly see how it was a completely different era of Jump. Naruto was still running at chapter 683. That is near the end of the 4th Great Ninja War arc. Naruto would later finish that fall in Issue 50, 2014. Additionally, Kuroko was just a couple of issues away from wrapping up and cementing itself as one of the best sport manga Jump had seen in a decade. One Piece was in the middle of Dressrosa, where little did we know that chapter 752 would only put us halfway through the arc. Gintama was just about to make a major pivot into full time battle manga mode. This issue also saw the conclusion of iShoujo at 20 chapters. (It would later get rebooted on Jump+ as a launch title and run for 14 volumes). It's very clear how My Hero Academia started in a complete era than where are now. So, how was My Hero Academia in the early days? Well, quite honestly I thought it was a very middle of the road title. I was already familiar with Horikoshi through Barrage (the very first simlpub in the digital Jump era that Viz started from chapter 1). He always had a good sense of perspective and the way he draws mouths with depth is a distinctive feature. The series also wore its Naruto inspirations quite openly, while taking advantage of the popularity in superhero movies to add some visibility in the eyes of readers. I thought it was riding the coattails of current trends. The early chapters were standard fare in modern day shonen. Speeding through character introductions and establishing the setting. Shigaraki made an early appearance with the mob baddies called Nomus but it was hard to get invested in the central conflict so soon. However Shigaraki’s eerie design of being covered in hands certainly stood out at the time. I was curious but not necessarily invested right away. (of course in retrospective its clear how Horikoshi used the early events as building blocks for what was to come later)

But you know what sways me the most: Tournament Arcs! This Sports Festival tournament was where I finally started feeling invested in the series. In part because tournament arcs provide an easy to use template for establishing character relationships, create unexpected match ups, ground character arc trajectories, and provide payoffs if used later in the story. The big plot point introduced in this arc was the #2 Hero Endeavor and the relationship with his son, Todoroki. If All Might is the honest public face hero, then Endeavor is the power obsessed guy. He destroyed his family and took extreme measures to produce a child that can beat All Might. Todoroki's story begins with him outright rejecting his father. However, this changed during a fight with Deku. Deku and Todoroki are both foils and yet mirrors of each other at the same time. They were both blessed with powers that were not obtained naturally. Deku was given a quirk on the spur of the moment from All Might. Todoroki was given his abilities in service of someone else’s goals. One accepts their reality and the other does not. Deku showed that Todoroki accepting the power is not the same as acting in father's wishes. He should use the powers gifted to him in whatever ways he sees fit. This moment comes with the first end of chapter title drop and the moment when Horikoshi’s writing clicked into place for me. The scene when Todoroki uses his flames for the first time is powerful because I loved how they were depicted coming out so naturally. These flames are a part of himself and always have been. Todoroki has at last accepted that side of himself going forward.

After the tournament, it shifts into a short arc with the Killer Hero Stain. He brings up the idea that Heroes should be more than symbols for people to worship, and instead Heroes should practice what they preach. He sees All Might as the only authentic hero to follow. This is the first time we see a villain figure making a valid point that pins down one of the faults to hero society. Stains describes how everyone is doing it for fun, out of obligation, or for making money. All Might is someone whose confidence is so strong that his hero persona and outward personality are one in the same. Sadly this arc was too short to fully explore the idea, but it would come up again later. Jumping ahead, the series quickly reached its first major story climax: All Might vs. One For All. I went into this fight thinking All Might was going to die and was very surprised when he didn't. The master passing the torch to his student through a death scene is such a common trope (which yes, it made me even more surprised how All Might survived the entire story). I was on the edge of my seat when reading this weekly and consider it a high point of the series. This fight ended up marking the beginning of the end to the Hero Society. All Might's retirement shakes the very foundation of the Hero world. Who can possibly replace someone who inspires people from all walks of life? From this point on, Deku and Shigaraki are now  walking similar paths as the heirs to this conflict. The following arcs saw the league of villains poking at the cracks and expanding the seeds of distrust.

When manga serializations are constantly one-upping itself on story climaxes, it can be hard to return to any semblance of a daily life in the aftermath of major moments. This middle section of the manga from about volume 12 to 24 is a boring stretch of the series. First getting the provisional licenses felt unnecessary in the grand scheme since there's really nothing stopping them from fighting the bad guys other than technical loopholes in the writing. Then the Shie Hassaikai arc was almost like canon filler to me.  It amounted to very little at the time and came off like a side quest. (This arc also marks the beginning of frequent breaks). Afterwards the U.A. school festival was a refreshing turn back into school life but still, Gentle isn't the fodder we need to see. Lastly, the worst offender of this stretch by far was the class A vs. B matches. A tournament style arc just for show. No stakes. Nothing of consequence.  It basically paused the story for about 2 volumes. Thankfully Horikoshi would resume the plot right afterwards with a bang.

My Villain Academia is exactly what the story needed to get itself back together. The League of Villains seemed like they were supposed to be foils for class A-1 and yet any comparable character development just wasn’t happening. This was finally going to change. This arc focused exclusively on the villains and each member would get a quirk power up, while Shigaraki received the rampaging ally Gigantomachia. We also have the Tenko: Origin chapter to put his past into perspective. While I still have issues with the villain writing, it felt like the villains could finally stand on their own in the story.

The momentum continued into the Paranormal Liberation War. An all-out fight between the heroes and villains at their peak across multiple areas of Japan. The countdown to Mirko stopping Shigaraki from reaching his true form was thrilling. Then came the first real clash between Deku and Shigaraki. However, the star of the show for this arc was undoubtedly Dabi who effectively canceled Endeavor’s entire career. Dabi exposed the past of Endeavor by explaining his own story. He showed that Heroes put up a public positive face to hide their power hungry desires motivating them behind the scenes. This makes Heroes no different from villains in many regards. These words brought an end to Hero society as we knew it. The public was already feeling uneasy after the retirement of All Might, and signaling out Endeavors’s past showed how the system was built on an image, not human understanding. Japan was left in ruins, numerous convicted villains were released back into the wild, and the people have nobody they can trust.

I consider the spread page above to be my favorite from the entire series. Horikoshi’s art reached new highs throughout the Paranormal Liberation War arc. His ability to depict Shigaraki as a real force of nature against the Heroes was crazy good. You could really feel the impact behind every attack on each individual and the surrounding environment. Shigaraki ability is something that alters landscapes wherever he goes.

The final stretch of the story begins with Deku acting like a vigilante. Hero Society at-large has hit its lowest point where the institution of Heroes who maintain public safety is no more. The public is scared for their life. Heroes have largely abandoned their post. One for All and the strongest villains are on the loose, and Deku has been completely worn down by the burden of his role. His mind has entered the idea that only he alone can fix this. The Lady Nagant storyline was awesome. She is someone who had to adapt to survive in these precilous times. A hero and a villian is only matter of perspective after all. Sometimes people will do what they need to in order to survive. If even our main character can be swayed then where is the line hero and villain?

The Dark Deku arc is when Deku is stripped down to his core convictions: the desire to protect his friends and defeat One for All. However it's the very friends that he was trying to push away, who ultimately reached out the hand to save him. Deku has touched each of their lives in ways he can't even begin to imagine. Now it was time for them to return the favor. This brings the story to a touching scene where Uraraka yells to an audience of scared citizens to remind them how Heroes are people too and Deku is one of them. This section is my favorite part of the entire story. It felt like everything had changed. We didn't know where the story was going next nor where to begin tackling the awful state of the world. Everything was so raw. It was an exciting time to be reading weekly.

After reaching a new series high, we drop down to one of its lowest points in my opinion. Star & Stripe vs. Shigaraki was an absolute shame. There should have been a study abroad arc so Deku could meet and experience heroes around the world. So when the Number One American hero is introduced, with death flags, I was skeptical about why. I don't like when characters are introduced just to die immediately. The whole point was to artificially weaken Shigaraki so the heroes would stand a chance in the upcoming final battle. Similarly, I would have liked the traitor reveal if it had been more important throughout the story. Barely came up after the training camp arc in volume 9. It came off like Hoirkoshi just needed to check off that box to appease readers before entering the final battle. But, finally seeing Hagakure’s face was a very nice reward. Despite the stumbles to set up the final battle, I thought it was incredible. One of the best in recent memory from Jump. A fight with the future of Japan on the line across numerous locations. In shonen manga style, it pulled in every single character from throughout the series, used all the mobs to their fullest, and pitted villains vs. their foil villain character. Iit definitely checked off all the boxes of what you need for a grand finale to a long running battle shonen. I think Dabi and Todoroki got the thematic ending it needed. Spinner could have used a little more focus. Himeko and Uraraka reached an understanding at the very end that was probably the safe end for their storyline. I loved seeing the floating stage slowly descend to the surface as the climax approached, while the fighting began to center around Deku and Bakugo. Horikoshi once again reached new artistic highs I couldn’t even imagine throughout the final battle. I like to think the frequent breaks allowed him to pace it better than you typically find in Jump manga final arcs.

As the series comes to close, I am left very pleased with where character arcs ended up. Deku is someone who had to grow up almost overnight. From a quirkless boy to saving all of Japan in the span of a year. He has something that All Might lacked. The spirit to never give up on leading a hand to someone in need. If All Might presented himself with confident bravado, then Deku was the honest human type. Shigaraki is someone who was beyond saving, and yet even if for a moment, Deku wanted to give the respect he deserved as a person. Deku losing his powers cements the story as being about a moment in his life. That he never took the powers he was blessed with for granted, and used them to the fullest throughout the story. I appreciated that Horikoshi made no effort to justify the villain's actions (besides partly Himeko). They are a product of unfortunate circumstances and deliberate choices which brought them to this point. Their actions speak for themselves. This applies to the heroes as well. Endeavor is a complex man with a storyline that reads more mature than you'd expect at first glance. He is a man who drove his family to ruin for the sake of strength, and those choices came back to haunt him in the form of Dabi and Todoroki. He's effectively lost everything. I think Horikoshi stuck the landing by giving readers the final judgment if he should be redeemed or not. The family members were left mixed, and Endeavor is prepared to rebuild from nothing. Shigaraki’s death is best for the sake of tying a bow on the story. Deku indirectly caused it, but he doesn’t beat himself over it that much. The world is the same as it was before the conflict. Heroes will remain in people’s lives. The systemic issues of a Hero society that sells certain images of people and casts aside those who don’t fit will persist. Another person or organization like the league of villains could easily rise up again in the future. However, Horikoshi presents a simple solution. Leading a hand to each other is a good starting point towards making the world a better place. Happiness can spread from person to another, and lead to a better understanding of those we don't know. It takes collective action to make the world a better place for everyone and that can begin with a single person.

So overall, what do I think of My Hero Academia? Ending at 430 chapters is an incredible run for a weekly manga in this current era. Horikoshi covered a lot of characters and topics, many of which I still didn’t cover at this post. I think the series has some of the strongest battle manga highs we’ve seen in the past decade, and of course some parts could have been better. I take issue with pacing and writing choices at times. The villains collectively speaking were the weakest aspect, but the genuine passion for Heroes shines through in every aspect of this work. He used that as a lens to look at problems of the world. Naruto is very optimistic with how communication is the key to bridging differences. My Hero Academia in comparison says that is only a piece of the puzzle. Everyone needs to make a conscious choice to reach out to others. We all can be a hero to someone out there. My Hero Academia will be remembered as the generation-defining Jump series of the past 10 years, In the same way its beginning overlaps late Naruto, perhaps in the future, Kagurabachi fans will remember how it started at the end of My Hero Academia’s run. My Hero Academia will finish as the 9th longest series ever in the history of Weekly Shonen Jump. This is a position it will hold long into the future. I don’t expect anything in the current line-up to come close in length. I've considered Horikoshi to be the best artist in the magazine for the past several years. He always kept improving right up to the end with insanely detailed panels and spread pages. His presence in the magazine will be missed. Thank you Kohei Horikoshi. It's been a long ride. I'm glad you could finally cross the finish line. I look forward to whatever you might do next in the future!

[questionable-intimacies]

RWBY Taiyang being Taiyang

Taiyang Long. He’s a monster slayer, master martial artist, and the well-beloved hero of a little town called Patch.

He’s also eating sunflower seeds while watching TV in his bathrobe.

Halfway through his third bowl in as many hours that morning, a battery of over-excited dog barks commenced an artillery barrage on Tai’s numb ears.

“Darn it, Zwei!” Tai groaned as he peeled himself off the couch, “Go back to sleep, you dumb dog! Don’t even know why I got you in the first place!” the Huntsman added sullenly as Zwei whined and began panting happily in response to its master opening the front door.

“Hey Huntsman! Got time for a drink?”

Taiyang sighed and leaned his head against the front door jamb. He then laughed helplessly as he stepped to the side and replied.

“Always, Chief. Always.”

The pair were a third of the way through with the six-pack in the living room of Taiyang’s cabin when the Chief of Patch Town broached the topic.

Brushing off sunflower seeds from the front of his shirt, the Chief grunted as he changed his posture around his overflowing gut to rest his elbows on his knees. Pushing his glasses up his stub-round nose, the Chief smiled at Taiyang and said.

“Huntsman, have you thought about getting married again?”

Taiyang had just swallowed another handful of seeds and was just about to chase the nuts with a drink. But the Chief’s innocent query reversed the controls in his brains, and what was supposed to go down came back up—all over the low coffee table already strewn with seeds and empty beer cans.

“What the hell was that about?”

The Chief chuckled, apparently unperturbed by Taiyang’s outburst. Instead, the older man simply continued.

“You do know that there are quite a few eligible bachelorettes in town who would be happy to spend time with someone of your reputation, Huntsman. Who knew being a good father is so attractive to young girls today?”

Clearing his throat, Taiyang took a quick sip of beer before setting the half-full can aside on whatever space on the coffee table.

“Come on, Chief. I really can’t. I watched most of the girls in Patch grow up and babysat a few of them with my two girls. I’m like an uncle to them. I can’t … I don’t see any of them that way.”

“I see, I see. Then what about the older women?”

“They just remind me of my first wife.” Taiyang moaned as he threw his head back over the couch’s backrest. “I asked her once, I asked her thrice … she SWORE she was on the pill. Shouldn’t have gotten condoms from that chemist her brother recommended.”

The Chief nodded in sympathy. He had met his fair share of shotgun pregnancies and weddings where a pissed-off father had his shotgun trained on a Son-In-Law he never wanted. Taiyang’s circumstances had a reasonably happy ending compared to others.

“Well!” the Chief declared as he slapped his hand against his thigh, “To be honest, the wife suggested that I ask you about marriage prospects. Otherwise, she wouldn’t shut up about it. However, the missus raised something we gotta address, even if her suggestion isn’t exactly a lightbulb-lighting moment.”

One of Taiyang’s handmade doilies was crumpled beneath the Chief’s weight as he shifted around to look at the Huntsman in his baby blue eyes. 

“Huntsman. You’ve gotta get a life!”

“Say what?”

The Chief barrelled on before Taiyang could muster up a counter-argument.

“I know you’re feeling a little … empty ... after your girl, Ruby, left for Beacon Academy. But you can’t keep living like this!” “C’mon, Chief,” Taiyang replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I’m having the time of my life! Now that the girls are gone, I can finally have some ‘me’ time. Just kick back and do some man-things, like catching up on pro-wrestling matches …”

“You’re watching the great Mistral Bake-Off.” 

“The way contestant number 3 kneads the pastry for Rapier-Wasp Stinger Pie gets my testosterone going, ok?! Besides, I need a few days to settle into my new routine without kids hanging off my dressing gown. It's no big deal.”

“Huntsman, it’s been a month since Ruby left for Beacon.”

That was when Taiyang snapped and pounced onto the Chief, shaking him by the lapels of his shirt and screaming.

“WHAT IF MY BABY GIRL GETS A TATTOO?!”

The Chief grunted as fingers toughened over decades on the hide of monsters dug into his skin and damn near choked him out. Thankfully, a series of quick taps on Taiyang’s arm, signifying submission, relieved the pressure on the Chief’s throat. Although his posture changed much, Taiyang calmed down soon after, from a state of lethargic apathy to frantic worry.

The Chief grimaced as Taiyang began pacing the living room floor, working himself up to a frenzy, thinking about how his daughters were ruining themselves without his supervision. The Chief had seen it before when his eldest son left home for college, and the boy’s mother had spent two months setting the table and cooking for three people instead of two. Life shifts hard when one’s children leave the nest, and by all the Gods of Remnant, the Chief knew just how to sort it out.

“Look, Huntsman,” The Chief finally cut in as Taiyang was about to start a rant about the negative influence of primetime TV on kids, “It’s clear that you’re having problems adjusting to your kids being away from home. But you’re a filthy mess; no one in town has seen you leave your cabin, and you’re letting yourself go. You need something to occupy yourself, and I might have just the thing.”

Extracting a slightly damp flyer from his back pocket, the Chief quickly clarified as he shoved the warm piece of paper into Taiyang’s warmer hands.

“I heard that Signal Academy is looking for an experienced Monster Slayer to teach there, and since you had all that experience training your girls for all those years, I thought you might be a good fit!”

Glancing over the recruitment flyer while taking a pensive drink, Taiyang sat back and stared from the opposite wall of the cabin's living room. There, next to the TV in place of prominence, was placed a photograph of Taiyang himself. With two girls, a half-bruised blonde crushing her father with a baseball bat and a doe-eyed redhead sobbing at her older sister's antics. The other photo didn't bear thinking too deeply about.

"I dunno, Chief. Do you know how they say teaching someone is like giving up a part of your soul? I did that for my baby girls, and I'm unsure if I have anything left for anyone else. I'm sorry."

The Chief waved away Taiyang's words with the hand filled with a beer can.

"Ain't no need to apologize, Huntsman; I've been a father too and get what you mean. But, when you give yourself to someone, raise them right and send them out into the world. They give you something right back and make you twice the person you ever thought you were."

The Chief then drained his beer before concluding.

"If you had done right by your girls, which I know damn well you have, then by golly, you'd have twice the wisdom of any one Huntsman to pass on to others. That, I know as assuredly as I know that this is bad beer!"

Taiyang laughed in agreement but drank anyway. That was when a long, low bell began ringing in the distance, and the Chief immediately shot to his feet.

"Goddamn! Beowulf attack!" The Chief bellowed as he bustled out of the living room. "I gotta go, Huntsman; you finish the rest of that beer, think about that offer, and shower!" The Chief added before disappearing out of the cabin, leaving Taiyang with memories and a decision to make.

The Beowulf pack was small but old and persistent as corns. It had taken two full quivers of explosive arrows from half a dozen archers to kill just one of those things, and the town's militia was struggling with the rest. However, the Chief was optimistic; The militia had managed to intercept the pack before they reached the town's outer walls and had driven two younger beasts away in the opening engagement. Now, only three were left in the fight.

"Break!" someone shouted over Beowulf's howls and the singing of bows. “One of the beasts is breaking for the town!"

The Chief cursed as he turned and trained his telescope on the errant Beowulf. A cross between a wolf and a gorilla, the afternoon sun glinted with the sinister fury of the brute's white, bone armor, undulating beneath tar-pitch fur as it loped towards Patch's defensive walls.

Stowing his telescope, the Chief turned and nodded at his assistants and raised his hand. The roar of a dozen speedbikes responded to the signal and barrelled off in an arrow formation to head the Beowulf off before it reached the walls.

But despite the speed of the bikes and the skill of its riders, the Beowulf had too much of a head start and would have clambered over the walls before the formation could stop it. 

In fact, by the time the Chief's riders had come close enough to make out the individual banners lining the top of Patch's town walls. Banners of the various high families that founded the town. The Beowulf was halfway up the wall and would have vaulted over the lip of the barricade if Taiyang Long had not leaped off the wall, dive-bombed ten-plus feet, and punched the beast off the wall and into the dirt at the wall's foot.

A second punch. A blow that carried farther than a gunshot. Had disintegrated the stray Beowulf's head by the time the Chief's speedbike stopped beside Taiyang.

"Huntsman! I didn't think you'd show up!"

Taiyang shrugged happily. Garbed in the gear of his hunting days, the Huntsman looked good. It was as if he had shed the lethargic malaise of his recent month like a dragon's skin and was refreshed with the prospect of action. Just as the Chief had guessed.

"Ah, well. You know how it is. I WAS going to watch the third round of the Mistral Bake Off. But before I knew it, I had my gear on and was punching a Beowulf's block off. It was like I was possessed by something."

"Well, that's just plum awful, Huntsman. But since you're here, you need a ride?"

"Nah," Taiyang said as he stretched his calves. "I'll jog. Besides, as you said, I'm twice the Huntsman I was. So I'm probably twice as fast as you! See ya!"

And with that, Taiyang sprinted off toward his next mission.

[ironwoodatl01]

RWBY TAIYANG SHORT

Taiyang Long. He’s a monster slayer, master martial artist, and the well-beloved hero of a little town called Patch.

He’s also eating sunflower seeds while watching TV in his bathrobe.

Halfway through his third bowl in as many hours that morning, a battery of over-excited dog barks commenced an artillery barrage on Tai’s numb ears.

“Darn it, Zwei!” Tai groaned as he peeled himself off the couch, “Go back to sleep, you dumb dog! Don’t even know why I got you in the first place!” the Huntsman added sullenly as Zwei whined and began panting happily in response to its master opening the front door.

“Hey Huntsman! Got time for a drink?”

Taiyang sighed and leaned his head against the front door jamb. He then laughed helplessly as he stepped to the side and replied.

“Always, Chief. Always.”

The pair were a third of the way through with the six-pack in the living room of Taiyang’s cabin when the Chief of Patch Town broached the topic.

Brushing off sunflower seeds from the front of his shirt, the Chief grunted as he changed his posture around his overflowing gut to rest his elbows on his knees. Pushing his glasses up his stub-round nose, the Chief smiled at Taiyang and said.

“Huntsman, have you thought about getting married again?”

Taiyang had just swallowed another handful of seeds and was just about to chase the nuts with a drink. But the Chief’s innocent query reversed the controls in his brains, and what was supposed to go down came back up—all over the low coffee table already strewn with seeds and empty beer cans.

“What the hell was that about?”

The Chief chuckled, apparently unperturbed by Taiyang’s outburst. Instead, the older man simply continued.

“You do know that there are quite a few eligible bachelorettes in town who would be happy to spend time with someone of your reputation, Huntsman. Who knew being a good father is so attractive to young girls today?”

Clearing his throat, Taiyang took a quick sip of beer before setting the half-full can aside on whatever space on the coffee table.

“Come on, Chief. I really can’t. I watched most of the girls in Patch grow up and babysat a few of them with my two girls. I’m like an uncle to them. I can’t … I don’t see any of them that way.”

“I see, I see. Then what about the older women?”

“They just remind me of my first wife.” Taiyang moaned as he threw his head back over the couch’s backrest. “I asked her once, I asked her thrice … she SWORE she was on the pill. Shouldn’t have gotten condoms from that chemist her brother recommended.”

The Chief nodded in sympathy. He had met his fair share of shotgun pregnancies and weddings where a pissed-off father had his shotgun trained on a Son-In-Law he never wanted. Taiyang’s circumstances had a reasonably happy ending compared to others.

“Well!” the Chief declared as he slapped his hand against his thigh, “To be honest, the wife suggested that I ask you about marriage prospects. Otherwise, she wouldn’t shut up about it. However, the missus raised something we gotta address, even if her suggestion isn’t exactly a lightbulb-lighting moment.”

One of Taiyang’s handmade doilies was crumpled beneath the Chief’s weight as he shifted around to look at the Huntsman in his baby blue eyes. 

“Huntsman. You’ve gotta get a life!”

“Say what?”

The Chief barrelled on before Taiyang could muster up a counter-argument.

“I know you’re feeling a little … empty ... after your girl, Ruby, left for Beacon Academy. But you can’t keep living like this!” “C’mon, Chief,” Taiyang replied with a dismissive wave of his hand, “I’m having the time of my life! Now that the girls are gone, I can finally have some ‘me’ time. Just kick back and do some man-things, like catching up on pro-wrestling matches …”

“You’re watching the great Mistral Bake-Off.” 

“The way contestant number 3 kneads the pastry for Rapier-Wasp Stinger Pie gets my testosterone going, ok?! Besides, I need a few days to settle into my new routine without kids hanging off my dressing gown. It's no big deal.”

“Huntsman, it’s been a month since Ruby left for Beacon.”

That was when Taiyang snapped and pounced onto the Chief, shaking him by the lapels of his shirt and screaming.

“WHAT IF MY BABY GIRL GETS A TATTOO?!”

The Chief grunted as fingers toughened over decades on the hide of monsters dug into his skin and damn near choked him out. Thankfully, a series of quick taps on Taiyang’s arm, signifying submission, relieved the pressure on the Chief’s throat. Although his posture changed much, Taiyang calmed down soon after, from a state of lethargic apathy to frantic worry.

The Chief grimaced as Taiyang began pacing the living room floor, working himself up to a frenzy, thinking about how his daughters were ruining themselves without his supervision. The Chief had seen it before when his eldest son left home for college, and the boy’s mother had spent two months setting the table and cooking for three people instead of two. Life shifts hard when one’s children leave the nest, and by all the Gods of Remnant, the Chief knew just how to sort it out.

“Look, Huntsman,” The Chief finally cut in as Taiyang was about to start a rant about the negative influence of primetime TV on kids, “It’s clear that you’re having problems adjusting to your kids being away from home. But you’re a filthy mess; no one in town has seen you leave your cabin, and you’re letting yourself go. You need something to occupy yourself, and I might have just the thing.”

Extracting a slightly damp flyer from his back pocket, the Chief quickly clarified as he shoved the warm piece of paper into Taiyang’s warmer hands.

“I heard that Signal Academy is looking for an experienced Monster Slayer to teach there, and since you had all that experience training your girls for all those years, I thought you might be a good fit!”

Glancing over the recruitment flyer while taking a pensive drink, Taiyang sat back and stared from the opposite wall of the cabin's living room. There, next to the TV in place of prominence, was placed a photograph of Taiyang himself. With two girls, a half-bruised blonde crushing her father with a baseball bat and a doe-eyed redhead sobbing at her older sister's antics. The other photo didn't bear thinking too deeply about.

"I dunno, Chief. Do you know how they say teaching someone is like giving up a part of your soul? I did that for my baby girls, and I'm unsure if I have anything left for anyone else. I'm sorry."

The Chief waved away Taiyang's words with the hand filled with a beer can.

"Ain't no need to apologize, Huntsman; I've been a father too and get what you mean. But, when you give yourself to someone, raise them right and send them out into the world. They give you something right back and make you twice the person you ever thought you were."

The Chief then drained his beer before concluding.

"If you had done right by your girls, which I know damn well you have, then by golly, you'd have twice the wisdom of any one Huntsman to pass on to others. That, I know as assuredly as I know that this is bad beer!"

Taiyang laughed in agreement but drank anyway. That was when a long, low bell began ringing in the distance, and the Chief immediately shot to his feet.

"Goddamn! Beowulf attack!" The Chief bellowed as he bustled out of the living room. "I gotta go, Huntsman; you finish the rest of that beer, think about that offer, and shower!" The Chief added before disappearing out of the cabin, leaving Taiyang with memories and a decision to make.

The Beowulf pack was small but old and persistent as corns. It had taken two full quivers of explosive arrows from half a dozen archers to kill just one of those things, and the town's militia was struggling with the rest. However, the Chief was optimistic; The militia had managed to intercept the pack before they reached the town's outer walls and had driven two younger beasts away in the opening engagement. Now, only three were left in the fight.

"Break!" someone shouted over Beowulf's howls and the singing of bows. “One of the beasts is breaking for the town!"

The Chief cursed as he turned and trained his telescope on the errant Beowulf. A cross between a wolf and a gorilla, the afternoon sun glinted with the sinister fury of the brute's white, bone armor, undulating beneath tar-pitch fur as it loped towards Patch's defensive walls.

Stowing his telescope, the Chief turned and nodded at his assistants and raised his hand. The roar of a dozen speedbikes responded to the signal and barrelled off in an arrow formation to head the Beowulf off before it reached the walls.

But despite the speed of the bikes and the skill of its riders, the Beowulf had too much of a head start and would have clambered over the walls before the formation could stop it. 

In fact, by the time the Chief's riders had come close enough to make out the individual banners lining the top of Patch's town walls. Banners of the various high families that founded the town. The Beowulf was halfway up the wall and would have vaulted over the lip of the barricade if Taiyang Long had not leaped off the wall, dive-bombed ten-plus feet, and punched the beast off the wall and into the dirt at the wall's foot.

A second punch. A blow that carried farther than a gunshot. Had disintegrated the stray Beowulf's head by the time the Chief's speedbike stopped beside Taiyang.

"Huntsman! I didn't think you'd show up!"

Taiyang shrugged happily. Garbed in the gear of his hunting days, the Huntsman looked good. It was as if he had shed the lethargic malaise of his recent month like a dragon's skin and was refreshed with the prospect of action. Just as the Chief had guessed.

"Ah, well. You know how it is. I WAS going to watch the third round of the Mistral Bake Off. But before I knew it, I had my gear on and was punching a Beowulf's block off. It was like I was possessed by something."

"Well, that's just plum awful, Huntsman. But since you're here, you need a ride?"

"Nah," Taiyang said as he stretched his calves. "I'll jog. Besides, as you said, I'm twice the Huntsman I was. So I'm probably twice as fast as you! See ya!"

And with that, Taiyang sprinted off toward his next mission.

[vamptastic]

idk like when you start adhd meds it doesn't really feel like anything is happening, in my anecdotal experience.

the first time i took my dose i had like one day where i was sitting in class staring at the teacher and going Huh i can actually key in on different things really hard. and it was very weird being able to shift my focus at will and kinda... boring. like i wasn't going to drift off into whatever equation sounds cool or drawing anime characters in my notebook, i could actually focus on the lesson for a full hour. but time passed the same and i still got bored and could choose to focus on something else, the difference was just that i was CAPABLE of choosing what to focus on.

then i got used to it very very quickly and didn't really notice anything different again. most of my evaluation of if it was working or not had to come from my parents and teachers because i just couldn't tell. according to them, i stopped interrupting in class and conversation so much, didn't daydream/doodle in class as often, made less mistakes in class, and let other people talk more. and i noticed some kinda tangential things like my insomnia improved because i could stick to a nighttime routine better and my thoughts raced less if i went to bed before the meds wore off, i got more large scale art projects done because i could slow down and not rush through pieces, i did a lot more journalling and writing down all my constant barrage of thoughts instead of drowning them out or rambling at people.

but it's not, you know, a miracle drug. most of the time if i miss a dose i don't notice until halfway through the day and it's more of a mild annoyance than a debilitating problem. ive missed a couple weeks a couple times from pharmacy fuckups and maybe fallen behind on studies a little and had a harder time talking to people. but my life was mostly together before the meds and they're not really the deciding factor in whether i get things done or not. they just make my quality of life better mostly.

which is why i don't understand how people take them recreationally. it doesn't feel like anything! honestly the adjustment period of starting them made me get LESS done bc i had to get used to making an active choice to do like, stay after school in the library and do my homework every day and not just letting the urge take me during other classes or lunch or at 3am. i felt like i stopped enjoying a lot of my favorite media because i didn't have the same level of energy and brain space devoted towards them all the time. i had to start practicing my art regularly instead of drawing whenever i felt like it. everything was an active choice, instead of just riding the wave of life. how is that fun?

[creativeashproductions]

Back to the 118 // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Buck meets the firefighter he replaced as the reader transfers back to the 118. The reader never expected to fall for a co-worker the first day back at the 118 after two years spent at the 155 in Los Feliz.

Warnings: Swearing, sickness, hospitals, health issues, pregnancy, angst and a shit ton of fluff

Words: 5.9k

A/N: So this is obviously a modern au for jatp to fit in the 911 universe. To make this work, Buck replaced Reader instead of Tommy after many failed probies. Eddie then later replaced Tommy.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

Your e/c eyes scanned the outward appearance of the first firehouse you’d worked at fresh out of the Academy. The place that had become a second home from the increased tension-filled house your parents still lived in. A place you had escaped as quickly as you could for a dream career. A career your parents hadn’t been proud of in the beginning, with the danger that came with being a firefighter paramedic.

“You the new recruit?”

Your eyes fell from the building to the male individual standing near the open bay the engine and ladder truck both used. The male in question must have joined the 118 after you transferred to the 155. The stranger towered at least six feet minimum with blue eyes and short blonde hair with the slightest wave.

“No-”

“Flint!” The excited voice of the only other female paramedic called out. You only saw dark navy before you were pretty much tackled.

Hen and Chimney had equally taken you under their wings when you initially joined as a rookie. You’d been the second female firefighter-paramedic at the 118 and the youngest by far. As if you’d summoned him, you felt the arms of Chimney sandwich you against Hen.

“Flint?” The stranger parroted, blinking his eyes at the rather unusual scene of Chimney and Hen wrapped around an unknown girl.

“What are you doing here?” Chimney questioned, stepping back. Hen scoured your entire form for any differences that had occurred.

“Y/N decided to come home,” Bobby spoke from a few feet behind the reunion with the beaming smile on his features. His lips pulled into a smile directed at the first recruit he’d taken on his first year at the 118.

“Bobby!” You grinned, meeting the father figure in the middle of the distance between you two. Bobby wrapped you up in his arms tightly, a certain lightness cocooning the Captain as he took in his friends.

“You’re back here?”

“Everything is squared back at home now, thankfully, and while I loved working with the 155, it wasn’t home. This will always be home.”

“Buck, this is Y/N Patterson. She worked her first two years with the 118 before transferring to the 155 in Los Feliz. Y/N, this is one of our newest members, Evan Buckley.” Bobby gestured towards the previously nameless firefighter.

“Who would leave the 118?” Buck questioned, unable to come up with a valid reason to leave the family at 118.

Buck’s opinion didn’t stand with his only workplace after successfully becoming a firefighter solely was the 118. Never had he worked in another firehouse. He’d been a fire marshall and volunteered his time in the Austin wildfire, but he always came home to the 118.

“Family issues.”

2018, Firehouse 118, Los Angeles

A fresh-faced, albeit dirty from sweat and soot, jumped down from the engine truck’s high steps. The synchronized slam of doors sounded from your colleagues and friends Hen and Chimney. All three individuals famished for the casserole Bobby had premade during the slow morning.

“Baked Mac n’ Cheese.” Tommy breathed from his position by the driver side. Tommy Kinard was a stoic man towering over six feet. He was always a gentle giant after you’d bonded after a hard call.

“Clean up, and I’ll have it in the oven. It’s Chimney’s time to make the salad and Flint’s turn to set the table.” Bobby spoke with barely a glance to the ground ahead of him. 

Your Captain jogged towards the stairs, whereas his team made their way to the locker rooms for a well-deserved shower. You and Hen split away from Tommy and Chimney to the women’s locker room that had gotten an upgrade.

Well, before you joined the Academy, the locker room had been used as a glorified game room, all thanks to the misogynist Captain from hell. Hen often had over the years mentioned how lucky you got with Bobby being your first Captain.

“Chimney better not put those onions like he did last time.” You spoke from under the stream of warm water. Nothing beat the warmth of a shower near the end of your shift erasing the evidence of your job.

“Man needs to learn the complimentary salad to the main dish.” Hen piped up from across the shower room.

You and Hen had both showered and redressed in a fresh uniform in under five minutes, the dirty one placed in a laundry bag. You’d managed to beat the boys to the upstairs by a few seconds. Enough to set half of the able before Chimney began to making his salad of choice.

“Looks great, Cap.” Tommy complimented the gooey homemade pasta Bobby religious made every third Thursday. He alternated between pasta recipes with the odd new recipe every once in a while.

“What are you waiting for? The bell?” Bobby quipped to the unmoving bunch of hungry individuals. His words started the boisterous meal time preceding the end of shift.

“So, we’re halfway through dinner and Amber-” Your phone interrupted the disaster date Tommy had begun telling. He continued as soon as you waved him to go ahead while you took the call.

“Hello?” You breathed into the phone.

“Hi, sweetheart.” The warmth infused in your mom’s voice soothed the ruffled feathers from the call you’d come back from, “How are you?”

“I’m good! We just finished eating. My shift is almost over, and I’ll have to go straight to the store for groceries-”

“Y/N, we found him.”

The him was easy to figure out given your brother had run away from home three months prior with only his dreams in mind. You’d spent most of your off time, sometimes even during shift out on a call, to scan the environment for Luke. You became a regular in questioning hospitals and homeless shelters.

“Where was he?”

“His band had been about to play at some big venue last night.” Mom’s word choice concerned you. Her voice dripped with sadness instead of the typical disappointment and annoyance on anything to do with Sunset Curve.

“Mom, what’s going on?”

“A few nights ago, the boys got hotdogs-”

“Streetdogs.” You interrupted with evident anger in your tone at the mention of those death dogs Luke consumed. You can’t even give a number to how many times you had told him how unsanitary and dangerous the food is.

“Something was wrong with the food. They got ill fast. Alex and Reggie are being kept for observation but will be found with a few days of rest.”

“What about Luke?”

“He tried to call 911; he was weak and fell. Y/N, he hit his head. He’s in the ICU in a coma.” Emily Patterson’s voice cracked as soon as she acknowledged the current state of her youngest child.

The colours of the world dulled as soon as your mind clicked that Luke was in the hospital. Your little brother had put himself in danger all because he had a big dream. Your mind flashed through your life growing up with him.

You remembered talking to your mom’s growing bump when she was pregnant with Luke. You remembered five-year-old Luke unable to settle unless you sang to him. Your voice was nothing special, but it soothed the little boy when he had a nightmare. You could vividly recall teaching Luke how to play the guitar when he was thirteen; the brunette a complete natural at it.

“What’s his prognosis?”

“Too early to tell. The doctor is hoping Luke will be in a general room after tomorrow if the swelling goes down. I wanted you to know as soon as possible.”

“How’s Dad?”

Emily hesitated from her position by a hospital bed. Her brown eyes carefully scanning the male sleeping soundly in the bed.

“Mom?”

“Your father had a heart attack last night. That’s why I haven’t been able to tell you sooner. He’s currently sleeping, but he’ll have a barrage of tests later today-”

“I’ll be there as soon as my shif-”

“No. Don’t drop anything. I can keep you up.”

“Excuse my language, but there’s no way in hell I’m staying away from my family. I’ll take a few days off. I’ll see you in a couple hours.” Your thumb tapped the red circle on the bottom of your screen.

The 118 didn’t bother pretending they hadn’t been watching your form during your phone call. Bobby felt like something had drastically changed in a few minutes you’d been busy on the phone.

“Everything okay?” Bobby inquired from his position at the kitchen sink. His hands in the sudsy water to scrub the empty pan.

“My brother and my father are in hospital. I’m gonna need some days off.” You informed your boss with a look of utter defeat coating your expression.

Those few days transitioned to transferring to the closest firehouse to your childhood home and the hospital. The medical bills from both your brother and father had begun to overwhelm your mother with the current single source of income. Emily didn’t ask you for anything, but you started renting the home you’d bought for extra money.

It was a silent agreement that you paid rent as a cover to helping with the bills piling up.

Present Day, Firehouse 118

Buck followed behind the welcoming group to the girl that seemed larger than life. Buck was impressed by the sacrifice you’d made for the good of your family. You’d willingly given up the family of the 118. Buck didn’t know if he could do the same.

“Welcome back.” Hen cheered on her guidance to the heaven everyone called the kitchen. Your department issue duffle bag dropped out of the wall on the top level.

Your eyes zeroed in on the spread of your favourite foods prepared by the only person aware of your return. It was only one look of gratitude towards the father figure before everyone dug in.

A few changes had occurred since you’d last sat at this table. Tommy Kinard had left the 118 for the 217 shortly after your departure. He’d been replaced by the ready to impress Buck. One thing that hadn’t changed was the delicious food Bobby made.

Your eyes found the sole empty chair at the long table, “Didn’t you say the house took on two new recruits since I left?”

“Buck took your position when you left. We had a revolving door of firefighters before Buck permanently joined.” Chimney supplied with a mouth full of lettuce and grated carrot. Hen whacked his arm for his lack of manners.

“You’ll meet Eddie on the next shift. He took the day off. It’s his son’s first birthday since his mom died.” Bobby informed you with that pinched wrinkle between his eyebrows, “He joined after Tommy left.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet the entire team.” You replied, looking past to the circular table behind Bobby’s spot. Sam and Ryan both waved happily upon catching sight of you back at your unspoken seat.

You listened intently as Hen shared the changes Denny had gone through in the time you’d been away. Chimney was ecstatic to point out the faint scar on his forehead.

“You had rebar go through your skull, and you’re completely fine?” You questioned, floored by the pure luck Chimney had.

“Oh, it was nasty. Went in from the back of the skull to the front.” Buck spoke enthusiastically, recounting the scene. Chimney deadpanned a look at his younger coworker, “Oh, sorry.”

“It’s like you never had it happen.”

“Doc was shocked at how positive the outcome and healing was. I was back at work within a month on light duty. I beat my record getting in my turnout gear.” 

“And yet my little brother was comatose for two months.” You grumbled under your breath. None of the people could make out the words, but the grimace on your face was enough to show them it was personal.

In true 118 fashion, the bell rang throughout the firehouse with the disembodied voice declaring the type and location. Yoru e/c eyes found Buck climbing into the driver’s seat where Tommy had once commandeered. It was odd not having the man who’d became an older brother to you.

“How’re your parents?” Hen questioned, sitting diagonally from you. Her fingers repositioning the radio on her chest.

“Dad’s recovering pretty good. Mom’s started attending her knitting club again.” 

Buck’s eyes raised to the rearview mirror to meet yours in interest, “What happened?”

“Uh...my dad had a heart attack a couple years ago. He took a long time to recover with the further stress that caused it.” You piped up, understanding the news would come out at some point, “My little brother was in an accident that left him in a coma. Life was just as messy after he woke up.”

“He’s okay?” Chimney questioned, “I know we’ve never met them, but it really gutted you.”

“Well, physically, he’s fine, but emotionally he’s upset. He was in a band, and when he came out of the coma, he found out some devastating news.” You continued to explain, but unfortunately, or maybe, fortunately, you’d come to the scene.

It was a little known place most teenagers discovered as a hang out spot just on the edge between your county and the next. The location was the infamous spot of cliff jumping; you knew because this was something you’d recklessly done in high school.

“He’s over here!” A blonde male of average height called from the edge of the cliff. His blue eyes were bright even from this distance, matching the detailing on his swim trunks.

Surrounding the edge with the boy was a group of teenagers his age, all in different versions of swimsuits. You found the scared brown eyes of a beautiful girl you vaguely knew from the few shows of Sunset Curve you had watched. Her dark blonde hair plaited out of her face. Her face clicked as Carrie Wilson, Bobby’s sister or cousin.

You jogged towards the edge of the cliff to look over. It was easily between fifteen to twenty feet from the edge of the cliff to the water. You recognized Hen crouching by your side, looking at what you were looking at.

On the rocks was a prone body of a teenage male with bruises already forming on his face from where you could see. His thick shoulder-length hair laid still half in the ponytail and around his head.

“Head trauma.” You murmured to Hen, scanning from a distance, “I can’t tell much from this height and angle.”

“Either a broken tibia or fibula. Spinal injury is definitely a concern.”

“Okay, his name is Willie Young. He’s eighteen years old. His sister Kayla was dared to jump off by doing some kind of flip. Willie took her dare and didn’t jump far enough or tripped over a rock.” Bobby listed having been talking with the group of teenagers all shook up.

“I can rappel-” Buck began to speak before you cut him off firmly.

“It would take too long, and the angle is difficult. Nobody rappels down it; the cliff isn’t stable enough. It crumbles pretty easy, and the unofficial name of this cliff is Devil’s Dive.” Your eyes found Carrie’s tear-filled once and the utter devastation in who you pegged as Kayla.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ve jumped off this cliff for years as a teenager. You’re looking at the resident champion of self reckless endangerment at Devil’s Dive.” 

Hen, Chimney and Bobby each stared, shocked at your revelation of stupid teenager decisions.

“Then how are we gonna get down there,” Buck questioned, staring at the unconscious teenager lying on the rocks.

“Easy, I can jump from here into the water and climb onto the rocks to where Willie is. I have the experience of how and where to jump safely.” You spoke to your Captain with complete confidence in your abilities, “You can lower down the kit, radio and backboard by a rope. There’s a mansion beyond the trees that you can ask to borrow a boat from the owner. He’s eccentric and questionable but nice enough.”

Bobby nodded his head to your plan. You unbuttoned your uniform shirt to strip down to the department t-shirt with the emblem on your chest and across your back. You kept the boots and emptied your pockets of anything. The butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the height of the cliff you hadn’t jumped from in years.

“I’ll jump where-”

“Excuse me?” You scoffed at Buck’s assumption he could follow you.

“You’ll need another pair of hands to roll him on the backboard. I don’t have anyone waiting for me at home. This is kinda what I do. Bobby cleared it already.” Buck shrugged with a half-smirk on his handsome face.

With a roll of your eyes, you quickly gave Buck a rundown on how to jump correctly before you tossed yourself off the cliff. The cold water momentarily shocked your system as soon you submerged under the water. You swam to the surface before swimming towards the rocks. Willie hadn’t moved an inch.

“Whoa! That was so cool!” Buck cheered once he’d appeared on the surface of the water, “No wonder you used to do that!” 

His excitement both annoyed and amused you, “Eh. I was just an idiot kid who thought they were invincible.”

The two firefighters lifted themselves onto the rock formation, where blood stained the rock. While Buck retrieved the backboard and essentials from the rope, your hands moved across Willie’s body, checking for breaks. You caught the c-collar Buck tossed without looking. You quickly but gently put the collar on Willie.

“Hi, Willie. My name is Y/N, and I’m a paramedic. I’m gonna check you over for injuries.” You informed the teenager closely. You’d only just opened his eyes to flash a light on them, “Buck let Bobby know Willie’s pupils are reactive to light and the same size.”

“Got it!” Buck called out from the open medkit, “I’ll splint his leg.”

“W-what happened?” Willie wheezed sluggishly. His brown eyes were unfocused.

“You got hurt trying to jump off the cliff. You’re in good hands, Willie. I’m a paramedic with the Los Angeles Fire Department. This is my coworker Buck.”

“Kayla?”

“Perfectly safe, but you did give her a scare. Willie, can you feel this?” Buck questioned, gently touching his right foot. Buck and you both gave a sigh of relief as Willie confirmed he felt it.

 “Okay, we’re gonna roll you on to the backboard. On three: one, two, three.” You counted before rolling Willie on his side with Buck. Willie’s cry echoed around the surrounding as you settled him on the board.

“Need a ride?” Chimney asked as a very nice boat floated towards the three people on the rocks. Hen and Bobby helped load Willie onto the boat, “Mr. Covington agreed to let us use the boat if we don’t get blood on the seats.”

“Can you call my boyfriend?” Willie sluggishly asked when he was loaded into the ambulance on the cliff. Kayla sliding into the seat in the back of the ambulance with their items.

“Alex is meeting us at the hospital.” Kayla told her older brother, “You absolute idiot! You should have just let me jump!”

“And let you be in the back of the ambulance? Dad would kill me if I had let you do it.” Willie scoffed. Their conversation was silent as Chimney and Buck closed the back doors of the ambulance.

Bobby, Buck and you climbed into the fire truck to follow the ambulance to the closest hospital. Hen and Chimney rolled the gurney to the doors with Kayla hot on their heels. You’d just turned to head back to the truck when you saw three teens loitering near the entrance.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled, marching away from Bobby and Buck to the teen who was supposed to be in class.

Luke had been forced into private tutoring to catch up to his friends in his grades, meaning every afternoon. The watch on your wrist confirmed Luke was definitely supposed to be with his tutor at the community centre.

“Luke!” You shouted, stomping right up to the wide-eyed teen.

Luke’s Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as his older intimidating sister caught him like his hand was in the cookie jar. You didn’t give Reggie or Alex a second look while you gripped Luke’s ear to tug him away.

“Ow!” Luke whined from the angle you dragged him at.

“What the hell are you doing across the city? You’re supposed to be in your session that our parents are paying a great deal for.” You snapped, crossing your arms in your wet t-shirt.

“We need every chance we can to-”

“Make it big in the industry.” You parroted the past discussions on Luke’s dream as a band, “Do you remember how I got mom and dad off your back? An agreement that you finish high school on time. Not dropping out.”

“So many musicians have dropped out! Green Day’s frontman dropped out his senior year to focus on the band. Several others like Elton John and Kurt Cobain!” Luke enthused, gesturing with his hand to emphasize his words.

“Luke.” You warned, “It’s either catch by with a tutor with some time dedicated to your band, or it’s a military school.”

Luke’s hazel eyes minimally widened, “They would-”

Your stoic expression stayed the same as the energetic seventeen-year-old bounced in his spot across from you. 

“There’s only so much I can do before you lose everything. I know you feel anxious after what all happened, but music isn’t going anywhere.” You reached to squeeze Luke’s hand in yours, “So, I’ll clear it with my boss to have you ride the bus to the station. You’ll have your tutor sessions with my supervision, so I know you’re attending.”

“Y/N!” Bobby called from next to the firetruck, “We gotta go.”

“I’m guessing the Alex that Willie is dating your best friend?” You questioned with one raised eyebrow. Luke nodded in response, “Let mom know you had to be there for Alex. She’ll let skipping your session go this once.”

“Thanks!” Luke chimed, lunging to hug you. Your mouth barely opened before he was racing towards a jittery Alex and a grinning Reggie.

Reggie lifted his arm to wave with his flushed cheeks a darker red colour. You found Reggie’s crush on you to be absolutely adorable. He was a friendly kid.

“He looks good for a kid who was in a coma not long ago.” Hen breathed as the teenager entered the ER with his best friends beside him.

“Oh, he healed quickly. He was crushed after he fully recovered from his head injury.”

“That was your brother?” Buck inquired, and he was just as focused on your features as he had since he first met you. 

“Yeah! He was in a coma for ten months when he was sixteen. He’s spent the last two years catching on on school to graduate with his friends. Well hopefully. He’s dead set on dropping out.” You heavily sighed, leaning your temple on the glass window, “He was supposed to be at a tutoring session. I’ll be chaperoning to make sure he goes.”

“If you need to have them at the station, send me a schedule, and I’ll make it work. Luke’s just as much family as you are.”

The rest of the shift was smooth sailing as Buck followed you around with the sole purpose of getting to know you. The friendship came naturally to the two of you. He didn’t hold back with you like he did with others. Fridays off became hangouts that varied from just Buck and you to spend it with Eddie and Christopher.

Everyone could see Buck had developed feelings for you and vice versa. Unlike the man Buck used to be, he was cautious. He wanted to do this right. And Buck did. With the help of Christopher, he asked you out.

Months Later

Buck’s eyes fluttered open in the dim lighting of your new home’s bedroom he often found himself in. Before, you had alternated staying at his apartment or yours before a significant change happened. Luke moved in to finish his senior year with the help of your tutoring, as agreed with your parents. That led to you giving up your former home, the one that coincidentally Buck’s sister Maddie had rented from you.

“Luke! You better be awake!” Your voice came from the main floor of the home. Your voice alone seduced the firefight to leave the warm sheets.

His bare feet pattered down the hardwood floor stairs into the kitchen coated in all different kinds of breakfast food. Waffles to imported maple syrup to bacon spread across the counter.

“Morning,” Buck grumbled, stepping up behind you to tug you against his chest.

Unlike Buck’s softer footsteps, your little brother tore down the stairs like a stampede of elephants. Luke wore a vintage band shirt modified sleeveless; you’d be getting a voicemail about dress code violations. The chains hanging off his black jeans.

“You have to hurry, Lu. Buck and I can’t be late. He needs to get to his apart-”

“I don’t see why he doesn’t just move in. He’s here almost every night. He helps buy groceries.” Luke’s hazel eyes stared at the plate he towered food on.

Buck raised one eyebrow in response, “You just moved in. You should be settled before we make-”

“Dude. Your lease is up in like a month; just move in already. No feathers will be ruffled. Besides, the band’s taking off now that Nick got his dad Ryan to check our music out.” Luke sprouted with a beaming smile at the good news his new band received.

After Luke had recovered from that coma, he’d woken up in a world where Alex, Reggie and Bobby, no Trevor, now continued the band. Then when Alex and Reggie couldn’t go on, the rhythm guitarist betrayed Luke. He stole every song he could get his hands on and proved successful.

“Ryan Evans, right? His sister’s some bigshot on Broadway? Sharpay, right?” You questioned recalling in the early 2000s the success of Sharpay and Ryan in some kind of Disney films based on them.

“You’re about to be the sister and brother-in-law of a certified rockstar.” Luke’s attempt at smirking made him look like a chipmunk with full cheeks of food, “I don’t need a ride. Alex’s picking me up.”

“Straight to school, Luke. You’ve got two weeks left before you can leave that behind.” Buck pointed his coffee cup in the direction of the passionate musician. Luke returned a smile of acknowledgement.

The kitchen was quiet as Luke shoved as much food in his mouth in such little time while you watched. In a flash, he’d stuck his dishes in the dishwasher before sprinting out to the van beeping continuously.

“Think we can have you moved in by tomorrow? Your one-bedroom place will be a little cramped for five people.” You simply spoke as you rinsed your coffee cup out. You could hear the wheels in Buck’s brain turning as he thought.

“Five people?”

“Yeah. Luke, Albert, me, you and baby Buckley.”

The entire home went completely still as the announcement bled into the house you’d made a home. One hand resting against the smoothness of your belly. That hand covered by the calloused one of Buck’s. His blue eyes gleaming in utter adoration and excitement.

“Baby Buckley?” Buck marvelled, turning you to face him with tears running down your cheeks, “You’re pregnant?”

“I am. I guess we’re giving Maddie’s daughter a cousin.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Now I’m obligated to see your parents regularly, and I still grimace at the first introduction.” Buck winced, recalling the foot in mouth syndrome he’d developed.

Buck had never been as nervous as in this moment. Not when he had to tell his parents the first time he got kicked out of college. Or when his teenage self sat beside one of his flings waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Not even on his first date with Abby. 

“You’ll be fine.” You soothed the anxious man standing by your side on the doorstep of your childhood home. The door opened, revealing Luke standing with a grimace, “Oh Mom, made you wear that.”

Luke had been stuffed into one of the only long-sleeved shirts he owned by your mother. It was a magenta maroon hued corduroy shirt and set off his chocolate hair perfectly. Apparently, your mother hadn’t been able to get him into a pair of pants that weren’t skinny, black or ripped.

“We’re meeting your boyfriend, not the damn Pope-”

“You wouldn’t be wearing that if the Pope was involved.” You retorted, stepping to tug the younger Patterson into your arms. The only thing you adored about your little brother was he never denied a hug. Physical touch is his love language, so he never went through a phase.

“Lucas, don’t let them freeze on the front porch!” Emily shouted from within the Patterson home. Luke rolled his eyes at his mother’s request.

“Luke, this is my boyfriend, Evan Buckley. Buck, this is my not so little brother Luke.” You swiftly introduced the most important males in your life.

Luke and Buck got along better than any previous partner you’d brought home. He got along with your parents really well. Even when he slightly embarrassed himself as the time came to go home, whether it was his place or yours. He kissed your mother’s cheek and shook hands with your father.

“No offence, but thank you for having a heart attack and a coma. If you hadn’t, I’m sure I would have never met Y/N.”

Luke snickered at Buck’s odd choice of words, as did your parents. A part of Buck dreaded the next time he’d see your parents.

The gentle press of lips against your cheek pulled you from your thoughts of the first family dinner. Despite the issues between Luke and your parents, they were great people and parents; Buck had felt like he finally fit in. Even with that awkward thankful he gave your brother and dad, he was family the minute Mitch and Emily saw the mutual looks.

“How are we gonna do this?”

“Well, as the pregnant one, I’ll carry the little Bean until it’s time for them to enter the world. Then we’ll-”

“I get that but with our jobs?”

You felt guilty at the dread of not getting to do what you love, but you were excited, “I’ll keep working as a paramedic. I’ll stay away from fires, and then I’ll go on mat leave. We’ll make this work, Buck.” 

Buck leaned down to rest his forehead against yours with his eyes closed, envisioning how life was about to change. Buck adored children. He had loved Christopher from the moment he’d first met him. Buck himself was a kid at heart. 

“I didn’t think I could fall more in love, but you continue to surprise me each time,” Buck murmured with that gorgeous smile that utterly melted your heart from the first time you saw it. Back when you tried to deny any feelings beyond friendship.

“We’re so lucky to have you, Evan Buckley.” You breathed as you leaned up to kiss him with as much passion as you could. Although it was mostly clashing of teeth with the matching wide grins on your face.

“This little girl is gonna be a heartbreaker but no boyfriends or girlfriends until they’re thirty.” Buck declared, tugging you into his arms. His blue eyes twinkling in the natural lighting.

“It could be a boy.”

“Or maybe neither. Boy, girl or non-binary, I’ll love them just as much.” Buck spoke once more.

Gideon Buckley was born in the early morning to the pride of his parents and extended family. He was a healthy solid 8 pounds with sparse dark blonde hair and the trademark grey-blue newborn eyes. You everyone but Buck and your surprise Gideon wasn’t alone. Grace Buckley followed her older twin brother eight minutes later.

You rested against the propped up pillows spent from the exhausting hours of labour, but it was worth it. The two tiny babies snuggled beneath the swaddling blanket concealing your bare chest. Skin to skin contact was absolutely the best part of being a parent.

“Did you steal a baby?” Chim joked upon entering the hospital room with Maddie in tow. Right behind them were your parents and Luke.

“I’d like you to meet our twins Gideon and Grace Buckley. Surprise!” Buck quietly cheered in the nearly silent room. Buck’s curated newly parents playlist gently playing in the background.

Mitch and Emily came closer to look at the little loves they proudly got to claim as their first grandchildren. Emily’s heart melted upon hearing Gracie coo in her sleep. Grace and Gideon’s fist pressed against each other.

“Congratulations.” Maddie breathed, bending to catch a peek at the twins’ faces.

“Luke. Would you like to meet your goddaughter and godson?” You questioned the nervous musician. The nineteen-year-old tiptoed his way to the hospital bed.

“I’m both their godfather?” Luke choked as soon as Buck gently transferred Gideon onto his uncle’s chest. 

“There’s no one else in the world I’d choose to help guide them in the right direction. You always found your way back onto the right path. You’ll do the same for them.” Buck answered with Gracie nestled on his chest.

 Buck was the first to hold them followed by you and then their godfather Luke.

Gid and Gracie, although unseen, had been in Luke’s graduation pictures and watched as Julie and the Phantoms signed with a record label. Where Gid was, Luke wasn’t far beyond; the special bond melted everyone. Likewise with Gracie and Alex.

Gid overall was a happy baby compared to Grace. Loved visiting the firehouse. Loved the people working with their father and previously their mother. For the entire first year of Gideon and Grace’s life, you stayed at home with the utter support of Buck.

“First day back.” Hen spoke from beside you on the bench in the women’s change room. As a fellow mother, she’d been watching your behaviour.

“I miss them. I feel guilty that I abandoned them-”

“Okay, your feelings are valid, but you aren’t abandoning Gideon or Grace. You’re teaching them that you can be a great mom while also being a badass firefighter. I was the same when I went back to work after we got Denny.”

“Do you ever wish you could be a stay at home mom?”

“I love Denny with my entire heart, but I couldn’t do that. I was meant to be a paramedic firefighter as much as Denny’s mother. Besides, I can see Maddie pushing in the double stroller.”

Your head snapped to see your sister in law beaming with the double stroller carrying Gideon and Grace. Maddie’s daughter sitting on the seat made for a toddler. Maddie and Chimney had come to a decision for Maddie to work part-time.

Hen watched as you bounded out of the changeroom in uniform to scoop the twins into your arms. In a split second, Buck was down the stairs cooing at the absolute loves of his life. His partner and two children.

Buck would forever be grateful for finding his way to the 118, where he found his true family. A place of acceptance, love, trust and loyalty. Buck found his place in the world, and that was beside you.

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[not-withoutyou]

hospital

When winter rolled around, Steve was sick more than he wasn’t. He didn’t typically let on that he was feeling lousy, though—too stubborn to impose that burden on people around him. Bucky wouldn’t coddle him or anything—he trusted Steve to look after himself. But he would worry. Of course he would worry. So Steve opted to ignore his own limits; ignore Bucky’s advice to take it easy. Obstinately, he’d go about the housework, tough-guy through his day until whichever ailment put him on his ass.

And sometimes it was fine—but not this time. It wasn’t until he was washing dishes after dinner that he realized he’d fucked up. Halfway through a story Bucky was telling, Steve had stopped listening, stopped replying. He couldn’t focus on anything besides gripping the edges of the counter and trying to remain upright.

“Steve?”

Vision blurring black around the edges, copper in his mouth, Steve knew exactly what was coming. Too hot and too cold. A deep breath didn’t uncloud his head.

The kitchen chair scraped against the floor, knocked over in Bucky’s haste. “Hey, woah, woah. Sit down.”

Steve knew by the panic what he must look like—pale, lips tinged blue. Bucky looped a strong arm around his waist just as his legs stopped feeling like they could hold him. The words, ‘I’m fine,’ didn’t quite make it out of his mouth, because he was falling into the dark.

Hearing came back first—his name and profanity muffled by the slow pulse in his ears. Next was the sensation of being carried, of being held against a solid chest. The smell of spiced soap and tobacco. Then the couch cushions under him; Bucky patting his clammy cheeks. “C’mon, Stevie.”

Spots blinked out of Steve’s dazed vision. The world shifted back into focus. Knelt next to him, eyes bright and big as saucers, Bucky let out a breath. A shaky hand stroked his cheek, his hair. “Hey, asshole. You scared the shit outta me.”

With a feeble smile, Steve let his eyes flutter closed again. “Sorry.” Bucky had seen this once before, when they were much younger. But back then, Steve’s Ma had been around to know what to do. “I’m alright.” He wasn’t. He didn’t have the energy yet to pick up his head. (Regardless, if he had made a move to get up, he knew Bucky would only have shoved his shoulder gently back down.)

Bucky scoffed. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t take you to the hospital right now.”

Raising a weak hand to card fingers through Bucky’s hair, Steve brushed his thumb against the shell of his ear. “Because we can’t afford it.” It felt like an I-told-ya-so. It felt unfair. Bucky knew he was right.

A muscle jumped in Bucky’s jaw. “I don’t care, I’ll—“

“Buck, it’s nothin’. I’m anemic. It happens.” Which was, decidedly, not the right thing to say if Steve didn’t want to spark a barrage of questions. No, it didn’t happen a lot. No, it hadn’t happened when Bucky wasn’t at home. Yes, he was eating enough. Yes, he was sure. In the end, they reached a compromise. He’d lay there and rest, but if he still felt poorly in the morning, Bucky would drag his skinny ass to the doctor. Steve rolled his eyes almost hard enough to make himself dizzy again. “You sound like my Ma.”

Bucky’s brow still pinched with worry, he pulled the quilt down from the back of the couch. It draped over Steve like a refuge. “You should take her damn advice—what did she usedta say? ‘It’s okay to need help.’ Now, shut the fuck up and rest. I’ll getcha some water.”

Visit me on Ao3

[nugnthopkns]

dance me to the end of love (i)

word count: 4.3k

warnings: fem!oc, cursing, potential spoilers for the west wing if you've never seen the show

series masterpost: here

a/n: hi!! i am so incredibly happy to finally be putting this fic out into the world. it means an awful lot to me and i can't wait to share the little world i've created :)) x

Magdalene is content with where she’s ended up.

Denver is wonderful. Her friends are there, her cat is there, and it’s the perfect place for a fresh start. She arrived in the city nearly six years ago – a wide-eyed University of Denver freshman and has stayed put ever since. Her hometown of Aspen holds a few too many bad memories, but is close enough that she can return if an emergency calls for it. So far she hasn’t left, too engrossed in finishing her degree and moving on. There’s a job offer lined up with the university’s library upon graduation that Magdalene is ecstatic about. It means she gets to stay right where she is – where she’s comfortable.

☼☼☼☼

The sun might be shining as she exits her apartment building, but it’s cold for March. Magdalene pulls the thick scarf her best friend Bette got her for Christmas higher up her face and walks as quickly as possible to campus. There’s a brief meeting to attend with her advisor before grabbing lunch with Bette, and then her plan is to spend the rest of the day holed up in the library working on her thesis. It’s due in two weeks, with the defence in just over a month, and Magdalene is incredibly nervous. Though she’d gone through submitting her undergraduate thesis two years ago, presenting her master’s research was going to be a lot harder. She’s heard through the grapevine that the committees are being tough this year and she doesn’t want to fail.

Dr. Williams is waiting for her in his office with a smile on his face. He’s a tall man, with thin facial features and wire glasses that box him perfectly into the intimidating professor stereotype. “Miss Stevenson, please sit,” he gestures to the chair across from him.

“Gerald,” she sighs, “You can call me Magdalene, I don’t mind. Besides, it makes you quite the hypocrite if you insist I call you by your first name but you won’t use mine.” There’s no malice in her voice, just a decent amount of teasing.

The older man scoffs but concedes. “I suppose you’re right. Well then Magdalene, tell me, how are your final edits coming along?”

Magdalene spends nearly twenty minutes detailing all the elements she has tweaked since their last meeting, from the title to the citation style. She’s out of breath by the time she’s done, rambling at an impressive speed, and takes a big gasp of air while the professor mulls over her words. Dr. Williams doesn’t say anything, causing Magdalene to shift anxiously in her seat. “Sir, is there something wrong?”

He shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing,” he beams, “Everything is perfect. It’s a shame you don’t want to continue researching. You’d make a fabulous academic.”

The compliment makes Magdalene’s heart soar. It means a lot, especially coming from the person who has seen her cry over the oxford comma. “Thank you sir, but I belong in the practical realm. Someone has to file all the documents you obsessively scan.”

She leaves the building soon after, promising to stop by after she drops off the final draft in a few weeks. It’s a bit later than she expected and hopes Bette won’t be mad. There’s nothing the blonde hates more than poor time management, but Magdalene prays she’ll understand. It wasn’t that long ago and Bette was scheduling her own appointments with advisors on how to graduate. Barn Owl Book Company is located halfway between the school and her apartment, making it the perfect spot to meet. In addition to being a used book store, Barn Owl sports one of the best cafés in downtown Denver. Bette is perched delicately at her friend’s favourite seat, a bay window converted into a small nook, and typing furiously on her phone.

“Sorry I’m late,” Magdalene apologizes, “Williams talked a lot more than I expected him to.”

Bette looks up and smiles, shoving a cup in the other girl’s direction. “As always. How is he?”

Sliding into the booth, Magdalene fills her friend in on what’s been going on in their former professor’s life. Bette graduated with a minor in Classics, and it was Magdalene's major, but the former decided not to further her education and is instead doing full time charity work for the Colorado Avalanche. Her boyfriend Tyson is one of their star players, and the two of them are so smitten it makes Magdalene sick. Conversation quickly turns from school to life, which she’s grateful for.

“So,” Bette says, “Are you in for the trip this summer? I’ve got to confirm the reservation in a week or something.”

“I don’t know Bee, I'm going to be the new girl. Asking for time off like two months into the job would be rude.”

“Linny,” the blonde whines, “Please? I want you to come.”

Magdalene scowls. Bette knows just how much the nickname sours her mood but she chose to use it anyway. “Don’t call me that,” she snaps with quite a bite. “Can someone else take my spot if I decide not to go a little closer to the date?”

“Of course! Gravy said he’d fill an extra spot if one comes up so we don’t lose the deposit,” Bette blabs before trying to switch gears entirely. Magdalene cuts her off.

“Who’s Gravy?”

If her friend is exasperated by Magdalene’s lack of knowledge surrounding hockey, she doesn’t show it. Bette calmly explains that Gravy, who’s real name is Ryan, is a defenceman with the Avalanche and a good friend of Tyson’s. She also makes a point of mentioning that he’s single, to which Magdalene rolls her eyes. Bette has a masterplan for her life – which includes her best friend becoming romantically involved with an Avalanche player so the two of them can live the better half life together. As the best friend, Magdalene is constantly barraged with potential players who are looking to date. Once she went on a few dates with Mikko, but that ended fairly quickly when the two realized they were better as friends. Every time since she’s turned Bette down as gently as possible, not wanting to get involved with anyone. Her life is just starting, and Magdalene wants to be secure before settling down.

The conversation eventually shifts to what Magdalene plans to wear for both her thesis defence and graduation. Bette is fashion savvy, while Magdalene is decidedly not. Her everyday wardrobe consists of collared button-downs and sweater vests, which is supposedly never going to back a comeback, according to Bette at least. The blonde eventually wears Magdalene down, and secures a position as stylist for the graduation ceremony. There was an attempt at the thesis defence, but the other girl insists she needs to be as comfortable as possible on such a stressful occasion.

A glance to the clock on the opposite wall has Magdalene stretching her arms and giving an apologetic glance to her friend on the other side of the table. “I should go,” she says. “I’ve got to put in some serious work on my citations today, and you know Caligula doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”

Bette rolls her eyes, but there isn’t any frustration behind the gesture. “I swear to god Mags, your cat has more separation anxiety than I do. Speaking of, I’m supposed to pick Tyson up at the airport and I’m running behind.”

“Tell him I say hi,” Magdalene says as she wraps her arms around Bette for a quick hug.

The two girls part ways on the sidewalk, with Magdalene heading back to campus and Bette sliding into the sleek Audi she shares with her boyfriend. Headphones find their way into her ears, and Magdalene listens to a random comedy podcast. Once tucked safely inside the library she’ll put on her favourite lo-fi playlist and concentrate, but for now she just enjoys the funny anecdotes of stories past.

It’s quiet in the library for a Tuesday, though Magdalene isn’t complaining. Her favourite table, the one she swears up and down is the only reason she ever gets anything done, is open, and she all but sprints to place her bag on the worn leather chair. While setting up her work station a few of the librarians come over to offer their congratulations for her upcoming job. News certainly travels fast around here, Magdalene thinks, but accepts their generosity with a smile on her face. They leave her alone soon enough and the tedious work of double checking the formatting of every single citation in the sixty-five page paper begins.

Hours pass, and Magdalene stays working in the library until as late as she possibly can. Caligula is going to start to worry about the length of her absence soon and his anxiety response of knocking over plants is not a mess she feels like cleaning up. She packs up her laptop and walks the short distance home as fast as possible.

“Little boots, I’m home,” Magdalene parrots in a sing-song voice as she slips her jacket off her shoulders and onto the hanger. At the sound of his nickname, the small cat bounds into the entryway. “Hi darling, did you miss me?” Magdalene gets an obnoxiously loud purr in response that she takes it as a yes. She reaches down to pick up the tiny animal before continuing further into the apartment, scratching behind his ears as she does so. The two of them settle into the respectably sized couch, where they stay for the rest of the night watching reruns of The West Wing before Magdalene falls asleep.

☼☼☼☼

“You fucking did it!” Bette shrieks as she bounds towards her best friend. Magdalene braces herself for the oncoming assault, and manages to keep them both upright after Bette jumps into her arms.

Her thesis defence had just finished, and the committee found Magdalene a worthy candidate for the Master of Information Science qualification. The presentation itself was open to the public, so Bette and Tyson sat in the front row to support Magdalene, but were escorted out for the conversation that followed. The two girls had developed a code so the news could be shared in a subtle way, though Bette threw the original plan out the window as soon as she saw her friend give a sneaky thumbs up when the conference room door opened.

“Congrats Mags,” Tyson says sincerely, doing his best not to add to the growing spectacle, but Magdalene can tell he wants to give her a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you,” she smiles softly, “And thank you guys for coming. It means a lot.” As two of her closest friends, both Bette and Tyson know that her family situation is rocky at best, and having them act as her support system means more than she’ll ever be able to articulate.

The couple shares a knowing look before engulfing their friend in a hug. “We’re always going to be here for you,” Bette whispers, “No matter what.”

Magdalene’s smile is so genuine it crinkles her eyes as she wraps her arms around Bette and Tyson’s shoulders and leads them out the door and into the sunshine. The group continues to the parking lot, where they climb into Tyson’s car and drive off campus in the direction of Magdalene’s favourite restaurant. Though she had tried to convince her friends they didn’t need to celebrate, she failed, and Magdalene soon finds herself laughing hysterically over a plate of carbonara as Tyson tells a story about the shenanigans the team got up to on their last road trip.

There’s a game tonight, and Bette has somehow convinced her into attending. Magdalene knows she should go, expand her social horizons a little, but all she wants to do is curl up in bed and sleep for three weeks. Her one condition is that she can go home straight after the game without being guilted into following the group to whatever nightclub they’ll celebrate the win or drink away the loss in. Tyson has to get ready so he drops the two girls off at Magdalene's apartment complex. She’s in charge of getting Bette to the rink, and she’ll leave with her boyfriend after the game.

Once inside the confines of her home, Magdalene promptly lies on the floor. “Holy shit,” she sighs, “I did it. I fucking did it.”

“You did!” Bette says as she lies down beside her best friend. “I’m so fucking proud of you, and Tyson is too. Even if he won’t tackle you in public to prove it.”

The comment garners a laugh from Magdalene, which alerts Caligula to the presence of others in the apartment. He pads over the rug currently being occupied by two adults, and snuggles into the small space between them. Bette and Magdalene continue to lay there, petting the cat and looking back fondly on all the times Magdalene called her friend in tears because she didn’t think she could push herself any farther. Bette was always there to pick up the slack, editing whatever section Magdalene was working on or to bring over a hot meal. Her support earned her the top spot in the acknowledgements section of the thesis.

Ball Arena is already crawling with people when Magdalene pulls into the small lot for player’s and their families. Normally she parks with the general public, but Bette insists they watch this game from the better halves box, and these spaces are closer to that entrance.

“Stop dragging your feet,” the blonde chastises as Magdalene takes her time cutting the engine. “I want to get a glass of rosé before they sell out.”

Sighing, Magdalene follows her orders. “Don’t you have a special bar in the box?” she asks while locking the car.

“Yeah, but the other girls are absolute fiends. They’ll drink it all before we get there with no remorse.”

The girls climb the stairs to the better halves box, Bette chatting excitedly about the game, but Magdalene stops just before the entrance. She’s met most of the others on multiple occasions and has nothing to worry about, but she can’t help but feel anxious. Her life is so different than everyone else’s in the space, and it feels like cheating when she’s there because she isn’t romantically involved with anyone on the roster. Bette likes to joke that she’s her better half, but Magdalene knows it’s said just to calm her nerves.

“It’ll be fine,” Bette whispers while squeezing her hand, “And if you get too uncomfortable we can find some seats in the nosebleeds.”

Once inside Magdalene’s nerves dissipate. Most of the other wives and girlfriends pay her no mind, but the ones that are especially close to Bette congratulate her on passing her defence. It warms her heart a little, and the small group Magdalene finds herself in settles down to watch the game unfold.

It’s a fairly intense one between Colorado’s division rival St. Louis. Both teams are fighting for first place in the conference, and a win for the Avalanche would put them three points ahead of the Blues instead of one. Players from both sides are amped up, and more than once a scrum at the net has turned into a dog-pile. Colorado is outplaying the other team, but have still managed to find themselves a goal short heading into the final period. At the buzzer Tyson takes the face-off and is immediately shoved by a member of the opposite team. He goes down hard, and Bette squeezes Magdalene’s hand so tightly she fears it will lose blood flow. Silence falls over the arena as Tyson doesn’t immediately get up. The inside of lip finds its way between her teeth and Magdalene bites down hard, worried about her friend. She’s so focussed on Tyson that she doesn’t notice a fight breaking out.

“Holy shit, Gravy is going to town!”

The remark is made by someone Magdalene recognizes as Gabe Landeskog’s wife, and it makes her peel her eyes off of Bette’s worried features and scan the ice for some action. Sure enough, a very tall man is laying right hooks to someone who looks significantly smaller than him on the Avalanche blue line. The referees let the fight continue until Tyson drags himself off the ice and onto the bench before separating the men and throwing them in the penalty box. Magdalene can tell words are still being exchanged from both sides of the glass, but she’s more focussed on the fact Tyson doesn’t make his way to the dressing room – a good sign that allows Bette to drop her hand and let out a shaky breath.

Nothing of great importance happens until MacKinnon ties the game with seven minutes left. It happens while the Avalanche are short handed, and the goal seems to light a fire beneath the team. Magdalene may not know much about hockey, but she’s smart enough to notice the insane amount of energy all the players suddenly have. Time ticks by slowly and before she realizes it, the final face-off is taking place. Luckily it’s in the St. Louis zone and won by Colorado. The puck is tipped back to the same player who got in the fight for Tyson, Gravy, and he one times it right into the back of the net. The buzzer goes off not a second later, and the entire team piles on top of the player who just won them the game.

Bette and Magdalene join in the shrieks of the other partners, jumping from their seats in excitement. Eventually they make their way down to the hallway outside the locker room and lean against the brick while they wait for Tyson.

“You don’t have to stay,” Bette insists, “I can wait by myself.”

Magdalene shakes her head. “No way. I want to make sure he’s okay too. What good is a friend with a black eye?”

The other girl laughs at her friend’s stubbornness but doesn’t shoo her away. Once Magdalene has made a decision it’s hard to get her to sway from it, and Bette knows better than to push. Besides, who is she to deny her friend a bit more social interaction? Magdalene has spent the past six years practically holed up in the library and deserves to stand in a crowded hallway.

The friends chat idly while they wait, with Magdalene sharing some of the most ridiculous questions she got asked in her defence interview that morning. She’s mid story when Tyson exits the dressing flanked by a man dressed sharply in all black.

“Hey guys,” Tyson greets, dipping his head to place a kiss to Bette’s cheek before doing an elaborately goofy handshake with Magdalene.

“Good game baby,” Bette compliments sweetly. She then turns her attention to the boy standing awkwardly on the fringes. “You too Graves.”

He smiles shyly, muttering out a small thanks. It’s then he seems to notice the final member of the group, and offers his hand in greeting. “Hi, I’m Ryan.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Magdalene.”

She puts two and two together on the walk to her car. The Ryan Magdalene just met is the same who will take her spot on the trip, fought someone in Tyson’s defence, and scored the game winning goal. Though they’ve only said a few words, she likes him. He seems genuine, and those people are the rarest to find.

☼☼☼☼

Magdalene is walking across a graduation stage for the final time in two days. However, she can’t find anyone to take the third ticket. The University of Denver has a stupid rule where all graduates must have three guests attend the ceremony. Bette and Tyson are obviously occupying two of Magdalene’s seats, but she’s having trouble filling the third.

“I can ask Tys if one of the guys is free,” Bette shrugs. The two girls are sitting in the window of Barn Owl drinking iced lattes and discussing what Magdalene should wear to the ceremony.

“It’s okay,” Magdalene says, “I don’t want to bother anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask June.”

Her friend’s eye roll so far back into her head Magdalene isn’t sure they won’t stay there. “You can’t ask your boss to watch you graduate Mags! Besides, Gravy owes Tyson a favour and was already looking for something to do. I’m sure he won’t mind wasting a few hours as long as he gets drinks out of it.”

There isn’t a better option, so even though she barely knows the guy, Magdalene agrees. “Make sure he gets this?" she sighs, handing her friend an envelope with a single ticket in it. "I have to go. Caligula should be done at the vet soon.”

“Say hello to little boots for me,” Bette giggles as she waves goodbye.

Hours later, tucked into her couch with a glass of wine in one hand and Caligula playing with the fingers on the other, Magdalene realizes she invited a complete stranger to her graduation and how that could be a terrible idea. Sure, Ryan sounds like a great guy from the way Bette and Tyson talk about him, but he’s only ever spoken three words to her. Since that game she’s gone out with the team a few times, but the man with the piercing stare is yet to make an appearance. Magdalene considers that perhaps he’s more like her than his profession gives him credit for, and she feels a twinge of guilt about being worried he’d cause a scene at the ceremony.

There isn’t any more time for her to fret over the third and final guest on the list. At the last minute Bette decides there’s nothing in Magdalene’s closet that’s suitable for her to wear, so a trip to a local second-hand store ensues. While it’s nice that her friend has taken their carbon footprints into consideration, Magdalene wishes it didn’t have to happen an hour and a half before the ceremony is supposed to start.

“We have to be there in twenty minutes Bette,” she frets, tapping her foot nervously against the tile flooring.

If they can’t find whatever it is Bette’s looking for, Magdalene will have to walk across the stage in denim cutoffs and a faded t-shirt with Neil Young’s face on it, which is something she’s hoping to avoid at all costs.

“Have no fear, Mags,” she says with a knowing glint in her eye, “For I have found it.” Bette holds up a hanger that is holding a beautiful long sleeve dress adorned with a whimsical floral print.

Magdalene can’t help the gasp that escapes from her. ��It’s beautiful,” she breathes, “But let’s hope it fits.”

The dress does in fact fit, and the workers are kind enough to let her wear it out of the store. Bette drives at a speed that might not be the safest to travel at in downtown Denver, but she gets to the school with minutes to spare. She shoos her friends out of the car so she can go pick up Tyson and Ryan, and Magdalene checks in with little hassle. The pool of graduates is fairly small, so she chats with a few classmates while they wait for the call to put their gowns on. Time passes quicker than expected, and soon Magdalene is being directed to her seat. She zones out while the dean gives a congratulatory speech and they go through the first few names. At one point she looks backwards into the crowd to find Bette, Tyson, and Ryan all giving her a thumbs up. The nerves she didn’t even know she had settle.

A faculty member signals for Magdalene’s row to stand up, and she smoothes her dress before dutifully following the person in front of her. Giddiness bubbles in her stomach at the thought of being done school forever. A hand from the stage crew give a cue, and Magdalene appears on the stage as her accomplishment is broadcast through the microphone.

“Magdalene Stevenson is being awarded a Masters in Information Science in Archival Studies and Records Management.” It feels so good to finally be finished that she lets a tear slip as she shakes the hand of the staff member handing her the package with her diploma in it.

The rest of the ceremony passes in a blur, and before Magdalene knows it her friends are approaching to congratulate her. Bette and Tyson wrap her in a tight hug, murmuring praise in her ears. Ryan stands awkwardly to the side before Bette drags him into the celebration. The four of them stand in the courtyard where the ceremony was for much longer than needed. Bette is crying enough to refill Sloan Lake if there is ever a drought and is yet to let go of Magdalene’s figure.

It’s only when the event staff ask them to leave so they can tear down the stage does Magdalene turn to leave campus for the last time as a student. She’ll be back in a few weeks as an employee, but deep down she knows this is the last time she’ll ever feel such a deep connection to the place.

“Victory is mine, victory is mine! Great day in the morning people, victory is mine!” Magdalene yells, quoting Josh Lyman as she skips down the path towards Bette’s car.

Both Bette and Tyson are confused at the sudden outburst, not knowing what she’s talking about, but Ryan responds without missing a beat. “Should I bring you all the muffins and bagels in the land?” His response doesn’t clear anything up, but it elicits a giant smile from Magdalene, who laughs and nods in confirmation.

Sitting in the back of Bette’s Audi, on the way to a graduation party she’s supposed to know nothing about, Magdalene decides that she wants to get to know Ryan Graves better. From what she’s garnered from Bette and Tyson he’s a class act, standing up for friends and giving good advice. He likes The West Wing and showed up to a stranger’s graduation, so how bad can he be?

☼☼☼☼

additional notes: see what magdalene's graduation dress looks like here // the quote from the west wing is from 1.02 if you were curious!

☼☼☼☼

taglist: @scrunchmakar @marcoscandellas @toplinetommy (add yourself to the taglist!)

[r3almellow]

Pregnancy Headcanons/Scenario: Gavin

I hope you don’t mind, but I just decided to make this into a pregnancy headcanon post! I figured it would be easier to explain what our Bird Cop would do and how he’d handle things overall. 

Warning: Pregnancy 

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How you tell him

You became suspicious after not being able to keep certain foods down  the sudden fatigue and a week into you missing your period.

It was only a matter of time before you got pregnant. There were a lot of times when both of you were so caught up in the heat of the moment and neglected to use protection.

The minute you find out, you’re coming up with different ways to tell him. 

You’ve gone from thinking about buying matching leather biker jackets one with “Biker Dad” and the other “Biker Baby” embroidered on the back to telling him over dinner at a nice restaurant. 

So many ideas, but you settled for something simple. Buying two house plants to add to your homes collection. Both were succulents that matched with the one he currently owned, Greenie, but had their own unique traits. 

You excitedly show him the new plants when he gets home from work. 

 “I even came up with names!” You point to one that was predominantly green with a pink outline. “This one is Cutie because I thought it looked cute.” Then you point to the smallest one and suddenly the anxiety within you starts to bubble. 

“And this one is Baby.” He looks at you confused. “Baby?”

“B-baby...” You say again this time shifting awkwardly, not as confident as you had been before. “Because its so small...” 

He repeats the word once more as if trying to understand its meaning and as the seconds go by the anxiety builds further. Maybe you weren’t straightforward enough in your efforts to surprise him. 

As if a lightbulb dings in his mind, his face lights up and suddenly you’re in his arms, enveloped in the tightest of hugs. 

If there was any doubt in your mind that Gavin wasn’t going to accept you or the baby, that gets thrown out the window. He’s beyond happy because this is all he’s ever wanted. 

Having a family with you was only something he believed could only be achieved in a dream. 

“I’m going to be a... We’re going to be... You have no idea how happy I am. I promise I’ll..” He trails off as if to catch himself and pulls out of the hug. His elated expression turning serious. 

“I-I mean...if you want to. Whatever you want to do I’ll stand by you.” No surprise that Gavin puts your needs and happiness before his own. 

You can only smile up at him with misty eyes. “I want to have this baby with you.” 

During the pregnancy

Spoils the hell out of you! Whatever you want, he’ll get it. No matter how far or what time it is, your man will go through hell and back to make sure you’re satisfied. 

Want chocolate covered gummy bears with cinnamon sprinkled all over them, but the only store that’s open at 3AM is halfway across town? Say no more. 

Even when you don’t want to bother him, Gavin will take it upon himself to get even the smallest of things for you.

Will go to all of your appointments and parenting classes even if it means taking on less missions. Don’t even try to convince him to do otherwise. If he has to choose between you and work, it’ll be you every time. 

If, for whatever reason, he can’t be with you for a doctor appointment, he sends Minor in his place.

You do have an electric guardian angel watching over you as well, so even when Gavin’s away you’re not entirely alone.

As the months go on, Gavin will become very protective of you and refuses to let you lift a finger. 

He cooks all the dinners when he’s home and does all the housework. Won’t even let you pick up a broom. 

Massages! Tons of massages! The minute you start complaining about your feet or back, his hands are ready.

Work? While he won’t stop you from working until way later into your pregnancy, he will try to convince you to take on a lesser workload. 

He maaaaaay take a quick trip over to LFG to talk to your investor, just so the man knows not to stress you out. Don’t worry he’s just gonna talk to him. 

Handles your mood swings surprisingly well. Half of the time its because he does whatever you want and the other half is because he hates seeing you cry or upset. 

Only a handful of times has he been strict about certain things that could potentially harm you. Not even your cutest of pouts can change his mind when he wants to protect you and the baby. 

Has a few parenting books lying around and will be a bit embarrassed if you gush about how hard he’s trying to prepare. 

Once your stomach starts growing and you start to feel insecure about your appearance, Gavin will do all he can do reassure you that you are the most beautiful woman on the planet and that he’s lucky to be in the presence of someone so perfect. 

For every part of you that you highlight as being unattractive he’ll kiss it. 

You don’t like how big your breasts have gotten? You hate the sight of your stretchmarks or how your shirts can no longer cover your protruding stomach? Expect a barrage of kisses your way. 

Gavin will fight every doubt you have so he can make his girl feel beautiful. 

Speaking of your body, Gavin would be a liar if he said he didn’t love the changes happening to your body for his own selfish reasons. 

You going up two bra sizes has been nothing but a blessing in Gavin’s eyes. Of course you’ve always been perfect to him, but you know...

Has offered to massage your breasts whenever you talk about them being too sensitive. Most of the time you take him up on that offer knowing full well that he wants more than just to ease you of your discomfort.

Not that you’re complaining because the way your sexual appetite has opened since being pregnant and having a man who wants to do nothing but please you like the service top he is?! You’re in heaven! 

By the time you’re in your 3rd trimester its hard for you to do the simplest of things, so expect Gavin to offer his services. 

Even showering has become difficult so he’s more than happy to help while you’re riddled with embarrassment.

“This is so embarrassing...”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about. It’s not like I haven’t see any of this before.”

There will be times when Gavin will feel nervous about parenting. He won’t bring such feelings to your attention, but if you pick up on it make sure to shower him with words of encouragement. 

 “You’re a good man, Gavin, and I know you’ll be a great father.” “Starting a family with someone who is as loving and caring as you, I can honestly say I’m lucky.” “Our baby is going to have parents who will love them unconditionally.” “They’ll love you just as much as I do.” “Just think, all the other parents will be so jealous over how amazing our kid will be. They’ll have your looks and sense of duty and my...well....everything else!”

If you’re not already married, at some point he’ll ask you to marry him, but will assure you that you being pregnant isn’t the reason he’s asking. This has been something he’s been thinking about for a while now. Your pregnancy just pushes him to actually take the step. 

He probably already had a ring picked out way before all of this. 

And don’t worry, he’s not just going to ask all casual-like. He’ll put a lot of thought into how and when to ask you. Who knows, maybe your little bundle of joy will be present by the time the wedding actually happens. 

The weeks leading up to your due date his job has been very accommodating, giving him work that doesn’t require him to be too far from you and is mostly him directing his subordinates from a safe distance (as per your request). 

Labor

When your water breaks you’re in the car with your prepacked hospital bag and make it to the hospital in record time.

Gavin is a nervous wreck, but he doesn’t let it show. This isn’t about him. This is about you and this new life you were about to bring into the world.

Of course he’ll be with you the whole time. The whole twelve to thirteen hours you spend in labor he doesn’t move an inch unless its to give the doctor space. 

Gavin wants to see it all and be of help to you in anyway possible. If the doctor asked him to deliver the baby he’d do it in a heartbeat.

When its time, Gavin is all in and does his best to provide you comfort in anyway he can. 

Seeing you cry and breathing heavily as the doctor instructs you to push and not being able to take the pain away is hard for him. 

All he can do is hold your hand, every so often kissing the back of it and giving you words of encouragement. 

“You’re doing great, beautiful.” “Breathe. Just like that.” “I know...just keep breathing and push, okay?” 

You can curse him out if you want or squeeze his hand reducing it to nothing but a compressed remnant of what use to be; he doesn’t care. Use him to relieve you of the pain. 

By the end of it all, Gavin is in complete awe. 

From the way you look up at him with tears streaming down your face completely drenched in sweat to the sounds of the crying child as the nurses remove the excess fluids to you holding them in your arms, Gavin’s heart is full. 

He can feel his eyes burn with tears threatening to fall at the sight of the love of his life and baby. The mother and child. His family. 

And when he gets to hold the baby, Gavin is shaking with nerves, but not enough to disturb the child laying peacefully in his arms.

The baby will look up at Gavin with eyes that mimic their father’s golden ones before they slowly drift to sleep.

“They feel safe with you.” You’ll say tiredly as the nurses tend to you. “How can you tell?” 

“Because being in your arms is the safest place in the world.”

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Been sitting on this bad boy for a while now! Hope you all enjoyed the read and if you want more MLQC stuff make sure to check out my masterpost! 

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 33, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault

WORDS: 1025

“I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer…" I closed the book, holding it up to my chest as I reclined back in Peter. “The end.”

“Wow,” was all that my soulmate could say as he held me in his arms. “Again, where were these books when I needed them?”

 “They’re kind of a big deal,” I answered him, twisting around to place a kiss to his lips. “There’s Wizarding World of Harry Potter theme park in Florida and then there’s also LeakyCon in Denver and Orlando. So yeah, Potterheads take their religion very seriously.”

 “There’s an amusement park?” he gaped, his hands resting on my stomach. “A Harry Potter amusement park?”

 “Yeah…?” I answered, closing my eyes. “As I said before, Harry Potter is kinda a big deal.”

 “Mary Claire? Mary Claire, are you here? Are you decent?”

 “If by decent you mean I’m wearing a bra, then yes I am!” I yelled, getting a laugh from Peter. “Why do you ask?”

 A security guard appeared just then, his eyes covered with a hand as he shuffled around some.

 “I need to take a statement about what happened this morning between you and Kody Williams,” he announced. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything.”

 “We just got done reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone- trust me, you’re good!” I laughed. “And you can look up- we’re fully clothed!”

 The man looked up, blinked and then took out a notepad and pen.

 I told him what happened, shifting as I realized for the first time that my tits were full and needed to be milked. Peter seemed to understand because he slid one hand to rest underneath my breasts, his thumb gently stroking a circle into the uncomfortable flesh.

 “Well, that should do it now,” the man finished off, shutting his notebook and tucking his pen back behind his ear. “Thank you for your time.”

 I nodded, blushing as he walked off and turned back to kiss Peter, sitting up on my knees.

 “Fairy Creek Meadow is a popular spot for couples to have a romp through the hay, or so to speak,” I giggled at the expression on his face.

 “No,” he said flat out.

 “No what?” I asked him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

 “No, I’m not having sex with you out here,” he grumbled, standing with me in his arms. “It’s too public and I’m not going to let anyone view you in a vulnerable position.”

 “I’m not into voyage sex,” I dryly pointed out. “Besides, some people just have no shame at all.”

 He chuckled, pausing to kiss my eyebrow. I cooed as I curled into his chest more, already halfway asleep.

 The next thing I knew, I was in the Bradley triplets’ tent once more, my milk pump next to me on the ground. I smiled as I thought of my caring soulmate looking after me.

 I sighed in relief as the  milk pump began to hum quietly and milk my tit. I got lost in the wild whirlwind of my thoughts flying every which way.

 Does Peter really want kids with me?

 Why does Peter want to marry me?

 I am not the girl that Peter wants to settle down with- I’m not tall, I can’t wear high heels, I’m not a smoker…

 What does he even see in me?

 Stop that! I cut off the barrage of negative thoughts with a hearty scowl. You are his soulmate. It’s no mystery why he wants to spend the rest of his life with me.

 I drifted off to sleep, a small smile on my face as little girl rolled about in my tummy.

 “Shhhhhhh… it’s alright sweetheart, it’s only me…”

 I squeaked as I woke up, finding myself tucked away in the arms of one Peter Thomas Ratajczyk.

 “Hello there now my love…” I cooed, pressing a simple kiss to the underside of his chin. “Are you alright?”

 “Sorry sweetheart,” he apologized, not moving as he allowed me to twist around until I was straddling him with a knee on either sides of his manly hips. “I’m just feeling unbearably anxious right now…”

 “Shhhhhhhhhhhhh…” I hushed him, standing up on my knees and pressing my full tit to his mouth.

 He let out a soft growl as he latched onto me, wrapping his arms tightly around me as he began to hump himself into my aching cunt.

 “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, love you…” I babbled, gasping when he got his hand underneath my bundle of skirts and began to flick and pinch at my nubby love button.

 I was groaning and gasping like a professional porn star as I ran higher, and higher and higher until…

 SNAP

 I was thrown from the top of the bridge, rushing back down to earth once more with a screech, tumbling and rolling back down the slope once more before being ushered back up to the top once more as Peter continued to pleasure me to bits, clearly needing something to work off his nervous energy with.

 “Oh yes yes yes… just like that, JUSTLIKETHAT… don’t stop, please don’t stop…” I begged as I was sent off to explode once more

  TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

 If you liked this, then please consider buying me a coffee HERE It only costs $3!!!

 PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@starchild0985​

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ twenty-five

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 5.5k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, future warnings tba ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒ | masterlist

act three ➻ part seven

​​​

“Sorry to interrupt, but… Hongjoong asked to see you on the bridge, Y/N.” A breath of hesitation, just long enough to cause a spike of anxiety in your gut. “Alone.”

“Of course,” San says, tone not shifting in the slightest. He nods at Seonghwa before stepping away from you. His hand lingers on your arm a breath too long, and when you meet his gaze, the eyes looking back at you are filled with… something. You can’t read it or understand it, but you don’t have much of an opportunity to do so anyway. Instead, you let San move back and head in the opposite direction, turning to face Seonghwa once San’s back is to you.

“What’s going on?” You ask before Seonghwa can say anything. He shakes his head ever so slightly.

“Just follow me first.” You do as told even though the steps are difficult to take. Dealing with Hongjoong feels like dealing with some rabid beast. You can’t understand his line of thinking or the way he operates, haven’t spent enough time with him to figure him out. He could be planning to kill you for all you know. Seonghwa’s presence at your side helps a minimal amount, but it does nothing to ease the anxiety bubbling in your gut. One thing nags at the edge of your thoughts, and you hate to think about it because you want to trust Seonghwa.

“Why does he want to see me?” You ask, voice small and quiet. “Is it — does he know about… you know?” It hurts to say even though you’re merely alluding to the bigger picture. You want to trust Seonghwa. His steps falter and come to a halt. You pause beside him, eyes searching his face for any sign of an answer that his voice won’t give. Instead, his hands find your shoulders and push you back until your back hits the wall. It isn’t rough or forceful; his touch is light, and he moves you like you’re a piece of glass on the verge of breaking.

“I promised that I would never tell Hongjoong,” Seonghwa says as he brings his chin down to look you in the eye. The gaze behind those eyes is too intense for a moment. You dip your chin and look away before it burns you. Soft fingers trail up your bare arm, leaving a path of electric shocks against your skin, and Seonghwa only stops when his fingers brush your chin. He lifts your head a little, and you’re forced to meet his gaze again. “Why do you think I did?”

You can’t come up with an answer fast enough. All you manage to do is sputter and stammer your way through incoherent thoughts and random words that attempt to explain why you don’t trust him, but Seonghwa silences you by cupping your face.

“I made you a promise, Y/N. I intend to keep it. It’s on you to believe it. Until you do, I will keep saying it, but I can’t force you to trust me more than you already have.” You nod against his touch.

“O-Okay.”

Seonghwa’s lips twist into a soft smile. His touch lingers. It isn’t uncomfortable, but you can’t understand what’s going through his mind as he continues to look over your face in silence. A small sigh slips past his mouth. Then his breath invades yours, and warmth cascades over you. It’s sudden and brief, but you find yourself chasing his lips the moment he pulls away. You couldn’t explain why even if you tried. Your hands fly up to clasp around the back of Seonghwa’s neck and tug him back down to you again. He releases a faint noise of surprise, but he meets you halfway, hands bracing on the wall behind you. He stops it too soon this time. Probably for the best, seeing as Hongjoong is apparently waiting for you. Seonghwa lets a half-hearted laugh out.

“I’m sorry for being greedy,” he murmurs, bringing a hand off the wall to thumb over your cheek again. “I just didn’t want — nevermind. You shouldn’t keep Hongjoong waiting. I’ll be in the training room if you need me. Hongjoong just has a few questions for you, nothing too serious, so don’t worry too much, okay?”

“What about? Is something wrong? Why aren’t you coming as well? Shouldn’t you be there as the lieutenant?” The questions tumble from your lips in a rush, almost slurring together as you spit them out, and Seonghwa grins at the barrage of questions.

“All he wants to talk about is some military-related things, as far as I’m aware. Nothing about Sirens, unless you choose to bring it up. He truly did ask to see you alone, and even as Lieutenant, there are some conversations I won’t intrude upon unless my captain asks me to do so.”

“Oh,” you exhale. “I’ll just get going then.” Seonghwa pulls back from the wall, letting you out from the cage his arms had around you.

“You can come by my room after if you’d like, either to talk about it or… destress.” The playfulness returns to his eyes. You release a loud scoff.

“Just say that you want to get in my pants and go.”

Seonghwa rolls his eyes a bit, but you can tell he’s not too bothered because of the smile that stretches across his face.

“I’ll save that for later. Right now, I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I am,” you insist with a sharp nod. Seonghwa doesn’t voice his doubts. You see them in his eyes nonetheless and turn away before the inclination to tell him anything and everything hits. If he watches you walk away, you don’t know because you’re trying your best not to look over your shoulder as you continue down the corridor, this time alone. The weight of reality sinks in when Seonghwa’s presence at your side dissipates.

Hongjoong wants to talk to you.

Alone.

About military-related things.

How much effort will you have to put in to keep from having a damn breakdown in front of him? You can’t very well grab hold of his arm to ground you, but without anyone else present, what are you supposed to do?

Your fists clench tight by your side.

Maybe this is some sort of test. Perhaps he sees you as fragile and volatile, and he wants to test you to see how bad it actually is. That could be what he’s planning. He’ll probe you for information on your past to see how long it takes for you to break.

When you step onto the bridge, Hongjoong is across the room, standing before the observation window with his arms crossed over his chest. There’s nothing out there except the darkness of the hanger around the ship, so you aren’t quite sure why he’s standing there of all places. You don’t feel the need to ask him why though, more focused on the person at his side. It’s Mingi’s tall form beside him. Broad shoulders and taut muscles rippling through his shirt that leave a bad taste in your mouth. You wonder how long it would take for him to choke you to death if you so much as breathe the wrong way.

You muster up the courage to clear your throat, only feeling secure in the action because of how far away Mingi is. Hongjoong shifts and glances back at you. Blue strands of hair fold over his forehead, parted down the middle to expose a bit of the skin underneath.

“Mingi, you’re dismissed,” he orders. The tone he uses is flat and void of emotion, much to your dismay, because you were hoping to at least pick up on his current mood to know what to expect.

“Are you certain, Captain?”

Hongjoong smiles a bit, gaze soft as he looks up at Mingi.

“Yes, yes, Mingi. You’re free to go. Get some rest. You’ve been up for a long time, yeah?”

Mingi doesn’t return the smile, but Hongjoong doesn’t seem to expect anything. The Berserker merely nods and bows at the waist a bit before turning to where you stand. He doesn’t look at you, and you’re grateful for it. There’s still an obscene amount of panic running through your body when he walks past you to leave the bridge. If Mingi picks up on it, he doesn’t show it, face and body stoic as he passes you. You keep your eyes set on Hongjoong. The captain watches Mingi, gaze almost melancholic in away, but once the man is out of sight, he shifts to look at you. He gives a quick beckoning motion, and your feet move on their own, bringing you closer until you stand right beside him at the observation window.

For a moment, there is complete and utter silence between you. Then –

“Do you know why I keep the crew so limited in size?” You offer a hesitant shake of your head in response. “I want you to reason it out for me.”

“There doesn’t seem to be any reason,” you say, eyes flitting over Hongjoong’s face as though it’ll explain his strange question. “Even though the ship is on the smaller side, it could be run so much better if you had a proper crew. Engineers, cooks, comms managers, weapon stations, people manning the mainframe and shield reactor.”

Hongjoong huffs out a laugh, air rushing through his nose.

“The Horizon was never built to be a warship or even one that could attack other ships. The original purpose was merely to be a transport ship. Before I took it, it was used to cart slaves between planets and larger cargo ships. She looks like hundreds, if not thousands of other ships out there. There are so few distinguishing features on the ship that the military would have a hard time picking her out in a crowd. That’s the way I like it. Low upkeep too. The only differences are not visible ones. She's the fastest in the universe for a reason, after all. When in danger, the crew has their assignments and stations. San and Jongho to the shield reactor, Wooyoung and Yeosang to the mainframe. Yunho stays in the medbay. Seonghwa and Mingi remain with me on the bridge. Seonghwa manages the comms stations, and Mingi mans the emergency turret. And as for me – I remain at the helm. You see, Y/N, the ship was made to be manned by a smaller crew. I could afford to have a larger crew, yes, but there are too many opportunities for mistakes there. I should have known that having seventy crew members would cause more harm than good. I was arrogant then and wanted it all.”

“What changed?” You inquire in a quiet voice. “Your arrogance and desires, I mean. What changed those?” Hongjoong responds with a small shake of his head at first.

“I was humbled and brought down a few notches.” You don’t say anything right away. Your lack of response brings another huff of laughter out of Hongjoong. “What? You’re not gonna pry for more answers? I’ve heard that you have been asking about the incident.”

“I… forgot about it for the moment,” you say, looking away from Hongjoong to stare out into the darkness outside instead. “If you want me to ask about it, then I can.”

“I’ll save you the trouble of pestering any other crew members for an explanation and do it myself. I’ve been waiting for you to come to me directly about it, but you never did. So I guess now is as good a time as any to explain what happened.” Hongjoong pauses, a small hum resounding as he lifts a hand to his chin. “Mingi killed one of the crew back when we were more in our prime. Not quite the largest the crew had been, but still large nonetheless. A woman named Cass, someone close to Yunho. Very close.”

“You shouldn’t ask about it,” he hisses out through gritted teeth. You’ve never seen this expression on his face, this gleam in his eyes. He doesn’t seem angry in the slightest, and that’s what sends your thoughts into a scramble. Merely sad. “That’s between you and Hongjoong if you want to talk about it, and it’s on him to tell you about it.”

You should have known then that it was a sensitive topic for Yunho, but you were too caught off-guard in the moment.

“She was just a Normie, no one special or out of the ordinary. Never showed any signs of disliking me as the captain or the crew. She never–” Hongjoong doesn’t finish the thought. His teeth sink into his lower lip. For a moment, you think you can see pain crossing his features, but it disappears less than a second later. “She wasn’t someone who would do what she did without outside influence. It all started because she had said that someone like me wasn’t fit to lead. I had no place being the captain. Someone else would be better, someone who was an Elitist. She was trying to encourage Mingi and Jongho to join her – their side since they were the strongest of the crew. Said that Mingi should kill me and let an Elitist take over. Cass – s-she did this out in the open in front of Mingi, Jongho, many other crew members who sided with her. And Mingi… He killed her for what she said. Jongho closed his eyes and let it happen. Put morals to the side for me.”

Hongjoong clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. It’s almost as though he can’t believe Jongho would do such a thing for him or that Mingi would either, for that matter.

“Isn’t it in Mingi’s nature to kill like that?” You ask, prodding for an answer you aren’t sure you want to have.

“No. He doesn’t want to kill. It isn’t about some maddening or sick desire to hurt people. It’s about what he’s been conditioned to do, and it is the only thing he knows.”

“How long has he been with the crew?”

“Six years. I found him at the same time and place that I found Yunho.”

“What do you mean?” You tilt your head to look at Hongjoong’s expression, and he mimics the motion as he stares back at you.

“I mean exactly that. I found Mingi with Yunho, though the two didn’t know each other at the time. Mingi’s father was Yunho’s patient. Before joining the crew, Yunho ran a small clinic here on Kebos. We happened to be passing through the system and had no medic at the time. Needed immediate medical treatment for Jongho, so Seonghwa took him to Yunho’s clinic. Yunho must have recognized Seonghwa or heard something he said because he asked after me. I came down and met him in the clinic, then he joined the crew.”

“Just like that?”

Hongjoong presses his lips together, forming a thin line then stretching them into a smile.

“It’s not necessarily my story to tell. Yunho needed – needs – me. And I needed a healer. Perhaps it was fate that brought us together.”

“How does Mingi fit into the picture then? If his father was there as a patient, then how–”

“Something happened in the backroom where Mingi’s father was,” Hongjoong says, cutting you off before you can finish the question. “Something I didn’t see and still to this day don’t know. It’s never been my place to ask. It’s between the two of them, whatever it is. All I know is that it left a deep wound on both of them, and it’s always been the root cause for the stiltedness in their relationship and attitudes towards each other. When the two of them came out of that room, they were both ready to join my crew, and I accepted it for what it was. Brought them on as they were, because I didn’t need anything else. The crew was big enough back then to allow for bringing them on without any trouble.”

“Ah, I see,” you exhale, bringing your chin forward again. “What happened after Mingi – that incident?”

“There was a mutiny,” Hongjoong states as if it’s the most normal thing in the universe. “They thought that I couldn’t lead and wasn’t suited for it. Mingi killing Cass only solidified those feelings. My highest in command after Seonghwa led the mutiny. Before he left the ship with half the crew, he swore that he would get the treasure first along with the Sirens.”

“Did he know about Seonghwa?” You aren’t sure what the hell possesses you and makes you ask that question. It’s a lapse in judgment and a mistake for certain, and you bring a hand up to cover your mouth the second it falls from your lips. Hongjoong lifts a brow, eyeing you as you rush to recover and come up with some sort of excuse. You half expect anger from Hongjoong or at least surprise in the very least, but all that falls from his lips is a deep sigh.

“I should have known that Seonghwa would tell you. He’s so strangely attached to you that it was only a matter of time.”

If you had been waiting for an opportunity to tell Hongjoong what you are, this is it. You are fully aware of that. You could tell him, and perhaps you should tell him. It would be easiest in the long run to tell him now. But what is the long run? Is the long run remaining with Hongjoong until he finds the treasure? Not what you expected your fate to be in the slightest, but an option nonetheless. Is it an option you want to take though? Spending the rest of your life as a weapon to the most dangerous pirate in the universe.

“What am I to you?” You ask all of a sudden, keeping up with your trend of being spontaneous with your questions. Hongjoong’s brows dip together.

“What do you mean?” He counters, seemingly confused by the sudden inquiry.

“Everyone on the crew is something to you, no? So what am I to you?”

Hongjoong draws his lips together, pursing them violently, before offering a shrug.

“You are whatever you want to be. It’s your choice, and I will merely respect it.”

“No,” you say through a small shake of your head. “If it wasn’t up to me, what would I be to you?” The question makes Hongjoong pause for a moment. He has an answer; the hesitation isn’t in the lack of one but rather the internal debate of whether to say it.

“You would be… a weapon to me,” he admits, maintaining the same steady and even tone.

“And what is Seonghwa to you?” Again your words throw Hongjoong off.

“Seonghwa is different.”

“Given what Seonghwa is, what is he to you?”

“I don’t just give up something so personal that easily,” Hongjoong answers quickly, sharp eyes narrowing on you.

“Is he a key to the treasure, or is he something more?”

Hongjoong exhales through his nose.

“Seonghwa always has been and always will be something more,” he whispers, tone dropping for the first time. It isn’t enough of an answer for you though. You need more than that, you need a straight answer, and you need to know what Seonghwa is to him before you even think about telling him what you are.

“If Seonghwa is a Siren, and you are hunting Sirens, and Sirens are the key to what you want most, then what is Seonghwa to you?” You think you’ve crossed the line right then. Hongjoong’s expression goes cold.

“You still don’t understand a single thing about me. The treasure itself is not what I want most. It will give me what I want most. But that’s not the point of all this, is it? This started off as me telling you a story.” Hongjoong doesn’t have to say it outright for you to know that he wants you to drop the subject. You nod quickly.

“You left off at the mutiny.”

Hongjoong hums in response and faces the observation window once more.

“Yes, my highest in command after Seonghwa led the mutiny. He did know about Seonghwa and promised to come back for him one day. Every single day is a race to the finish. I fear that at the end of it I’ll lose. The ship, the fight, the treasure, the crew – Seonghwa. People have never scared me. I grew up in a cruel world surrounded by cruel people, and the only option I had was to become cruel myself. But this man? I’m deathly afraid of him and what he’s capable of. And I’m running out of time. My clock is ticking onwards.”

“Towards what?”

“I’m not sure I know the answer to that. I just know that it won’t be long until it catches up to me.”

His words make you pause. The more you think about it, the more similar you realize you and Hongjoong are. Time has been chasing you your whole life. The past rushing to catch up with you, and it seems that Hongjoong is in a similar position. Time may be the same, but purpose? You don’t know what Hongjoong’s purpose is; however, you can confidently say that his is not the same as yours. You’ve been a weapon for as long as you can remember. The military carved you out of a broken mold and made you the weapon you know yourself to be.

You don’t want to be a weapon any longer. You don’t want to only be valued for what you can do. You want to be valued for who you are.

Seonghwa is special to Hongjoong, and maybe… maybe by telling him what you are, you can have that too. At the end of the day, you don’t know what it means – to be special to someone.

The reflection in the observation window seems to flicker for a second. It isn’t your face that looks back. A rounded smile with bright twinkling eyes. Someone precious to you, someone treasured.

“Hey, I need to ask you something.”

“Fire away, Jisung.”

“Can I hold your hand?”

“W-What?”

That cheeky grin makes an appearance again. Jisung holds his hand out to you and says nothing else. Slowly, you stretch your arm out to him, letting your fingers fold around his. It’s a foreign feeling, one you’ve never had before, but it’s comfortable. Warm.

You wonder if Seonghwa is precious to Hongjoong, if the whole crew is precious to him. It’s a foreign warmth that blossoms in your chest as you think about it, and Jisung’s face continues to smile at you in the window.

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna give me?” You roll your eyes ever so slightly. Only enough for Jisung to see it and scoff at your gesture, and he sits up to hit your arm with the back of his hand. You laugh, hair sprawled out across the ground. Jisung hesitates there. His expression melts, and his gaze is so gentle and full of emotion that you feel a deep pang in your chest. “S-Stop looking at me like that. It’s weird.”

Jisung doesn’t respond right away; instead, he leans down over you and blocks your view of the sky. All you see in that moment is him. You exhale, breath fogging in the air between you, and Jisung dips in to press his lips against yours. Soft lips. The taste of honey and vanilla. Stars hanging high in the sky. Jisung’s calloused hand reaching out and finding yours. Cherry wood and sugar on your nose. A fire crackling behind you.

Jisung was – is – precious to you. From the first hello to the last goodbye. Jisung’s face changes all of a sudden, and now it’s San before you.

“Oh, by the way, I’m sure you are wondering who I am. I’m Spectre. When you decide to talk, it would be for the best.” His voice rings in your ears. Perhaps it’s because of the increasing fever, but the volume of his voice is bringing a sharp pain to your head and adding to the already present ache in your body. “I am a spy and assassin for a reason. Finding people isn’t difficult at all for me. Especially considering that there is blood on six crates. Body heat coming from one. Tell me how that adds up for you.”

He had intimidated you so much then. Looking back, you aren’t sure why he did.

“You could repay me then,” he suggests, sending a teasing wink your way. You blink back in confusion. “A kiss, maybe?” You immediately roll your eyes at his remark, swinging an arm at his. He whines when you hit him, falling back as though you hit him with an insane amount of force. You steady him with the same arm and dip in before he can recover. You brush your lips over his cheek. He freezes under your touch within an instant. Red soars up his neck and cheeks.

“There. Maybe next time, you can get one on the lips.”

It felt easy then, even if you were still hellbent on running away and getting out of the mess you’d been thrust into. Yet San saved your life. Not once, but twice, maybe even three times if you were to count the second encounter with Cara. He opened himself up, cut his chest open, and gave you his heart. It almost makes you feel it—that sensation of being precious to someone.

“I’m scared to let you in,” you admit, bring your gaze back up to San’s eyes. He’s looking back at you with a gentleness in his eyes that catches you off-guard.

“You don’t have to let me in yet. Just try to trust me.”

“Okay… okay. I can do that.”

“Then that’s more than enough.”

San leans his head back against the pillow, but you take hold of his chin and pull him back to your face once more. It’s prompt and chaste, slightly awkward too, but you slot your lips against his in a rush. San inhales sharply at the sudden pressure. He melts into the soft kiss, pushing back with equal gentleness. He pulls away too soon for your liking, but the smile that resides on his lips as he falls asleep makes your decision to stay more than worth it.

San’s image doesn’t stay long, quickly dissolving into Seonghwa’s dark hair and delicate features.

Warm hands, warm lips against yours.

Warmth. It’s what you are desperate for, what you want more than anything else. You want what Seonghwa offers so severely that you don’t even stop to think about what sort of consequences might unfold because of this. Seonghwa’s hands find your waist and squeeze tight. He lifts you up to push you further onto the mattress, making room to climb on with you. Your lips never disconnect. The warmth spreads like wildfire through your body, every single touch leaves you hot, and when Seonghwa kneels over you on the mattress, that heat spreads further down.

Soft touches.

Your right hand seems to move on its own as it stretches in Seonghwa’s direction, fingers reaching for his. He slips his fingers through yours within a second. You hear soft skids as he moves closer to you, and before you know it, Seonghwa is flush against your side, the fire of his presence no longer overwhelming your senses.

“We’re going to keep you safe,” he whispers after a few minutes of sitting in a comfortable silence. “No matter what.”

Crossed legs on a bed and old books, then the fleeting memory of a hand draped over your waist as you slept.

You don’t push him away; you don’t slide out from under his arm, you don’t do anything except relax some of the tension in your shoulders. The sensation is comfortable; it takes away that nagging coldness and pushes the anxieties and worries surrounding San to the side. Funny how the slightest motion managed to have that impact on you. Seonghwa presses his head to the back of your neck. Hot breath fans over your skin, and you shiver at the sudden sensation.

For once, you don’t feel empty. You feel comforted, wanted, needed maybe. You’ve always felt needed, but only as a tool or a weapon. Not just as a person. And yet, as Seonghwa clings to you, you don’t feel like either of those things. You bring a hesitant hand up and drape it over Seonghwa’s, fingers finding his and lacing through the spaces between them so you can cling to him. You don’t know what time it is or if you should go back to bed, but you do anyway, clinging to Seonghwa without a care in the world.

And when the vision of Seonghwa melts away, it isn’t one person that stands in his place. Rather it’s four. Yunho with his rough hands dressing your wounds. His gentle voice chastising you for not doing your exercises. Furrowed brows and an intent stare as you opened up about yourself. Half-hearted jokes about sex and intimacy. Jongho and his strangely good abilities at playing cards. Him going easy on you in sparring practice because you’re “fragile” in his eyes. The silent yet strong comfort he provides by just being at your side. Wooyoung with the heavy metal collar around his neck. A rocky and rough start. Loud complaints about Jongho’s cooking while clinging to your arm. Yeosang and his piercing eyes. His watchful stare out the corner of his eye. Him stepping in front of you to defend you for the first time.

It’s a twisting and churning sensation in your gut, a desire to be more and have more in your life than just the notion of being a weapon and a criminal.

“I…” You have to trail off as your voice catches in your throat. “I have to tell you something.”

“Go ahead.” Even though he’s given you permission, it feels near impossible to get the words out.

“I don’t want to be a weapon anymore. I’m tired of… being that.”

“What do you want to be then? It’s still up to you, but I can’t just let you walk away while you know what Seonghwa is.” You shake your head immediately.

“I don’t want to walk away. I-I really don’t. I’m – it isn’t that. I’m not an Elitist.”

Hongjoong all but snorts.

“I’ve known that for a long time already. Is this the part where you tell me what you actually are? Unless you want me to play a guessing game, which I would fail miserably at. There are only three options, since your eyes aren’t red.”

“A S-Siren,” you blurt out, eyes meeting Hongjoong’s. His smile melts, and his face goes completely blank in an instant. “I can prove it. I can – can do something or ask Seonghwa, or I can show you my tattoos or anything you want.”

Silence greets you. Hongjoong won’t look at you. And in that moment, you think you’ve ruined everything. Then he laughs, his smile returning, but this time it’s far wider than before.

“How’s that for fate?” He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “I knew there was a reason our paths crossed. Why Seonghwa was so adamant about having you join the crew and why he’s so attached to you. I never expected it to be because of this though.”

“D-Don’t you want proof?”

“Of what? I’ll be calling Seonghwa to the bridge soon regardless. Besides, what reason would you have to lie to me now?”

“That’s… it?”

“Why do you sound disappointed?” Hongjoong inquires, brows rising again.

“Because you – I thought you would care more. I’m n-not sure. I was expecting you to be angry.”

Hongjoong shifts to face you head on. He places his hands on your shoulders, but his touch is gentle and light. Like Seonghwa’s. Like holding a piece of glass. When you look him in the eye, the gleam there makes you choke on air. You’ve never made a habit of making eye contact with him, but the emotion you see behind those dark eyes is not one you’ve ever seen from him before.

It’s hope.

And in that moment, warmth blooms in your chest and spreads across your whole body. He isn’t holding you as though you are something fragile or breakable. It’s something more than that, the very thing you’ve been after all this time. He’s holding you like you are something precious.

✧✧✧ a/n: hi guys 🥺 how we doing how we feeling what goes on this is a big chapter in terms of emotions and talking and what's going on finally some backstory yes! woohoo! lot's of info this chapter, but i hope you guys enjoyed it regardless feel free to gimme those theories and your fav parts! i love getting to chat about theories with you guys, yall are so smart and creative 🤧 anywho i can't wait to get into act four it's gonna be CRAZY if you thought it was a ride before just you WAIT we're going full effing throttle ((also idek if i’ve said it before the act names on the masterlist are hints 👁👁))

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[not-all-dead]

angstpril day eighteen: children fight their parents wars

CW: death, murder, fire??, burns/burning, swearing

fic under the cut

“Unbelievable,” Lin muttered under her breath, fixing her gaze on the wooden table that the group was seated at.

She, alongside Kya, Tenzin, Bumi, and Su, had been trying to reason with Firelord Izumi for the past hour. This year was the year that marked a hundred and sixty years of war between the Fire Nation and the rest of the world. They all knew it wasn’t their war to fight, it wasn’t even their parents’, and yet Izumi seemed set on keeping up the needless destruction.

“Unbelievable? Well, I’m right here, and so are you, so I don’t see how any of this could be unbelievable,” Izumi smiled at Lin from across the table, folding her hands neatly in front of her.

Lin fought the urge to yell at her right then, instead pushing her chair out and leaving the room. She tended to get the most angry about the war out of their group, her father’s insolence fueling her further with every passing day. She still couldn’t believe he’d come back after all those years, trying to enlist her in the army her mother fought desperately against, simply because he heard that she could firebend.

She stormed down the hall, blood boiling as she walked. Her fists were clenched at her sides as she shoved through the courtyard doors, and she let out a shout of frustration as soon as she was outside. She punched her fist at the sky, a ball of bright white flame shooting upwards and dissipating mid-air. She watched as it streaked across the grey sky, huffing when it disappeared and looking down at the garden she stood in. It seemed too nice for a family so set on hurting people, which only made her angrier.

She wandered down the path lined with cherry blossoms trying to calm herself down. She hated Izumi for all the awful things she’d done to people all over the world, but particularly her family and friends in Gaoling when she’d taken the entire city as a labour camp, stripping titles and stealing everything from her grandparents and every other major family in the city.

Just as she was starting to diffuse her anger, she heard someone come up behind her.

“Your friends are looking for you, troublemaker,” Izumi said in an irritatingly smooth, calm voice.

Lin spun on her heel and glared at Izumi, barely stopping herself from spitting on her.

“You really are the angry one, aren’t you?” Izumi took a step forward and created a tiny flame on the end of her finger, twirling it in small circles.

Lin watched the flame for a second before twitching her finger and putting it out.

“I’m leaving,” She huffed, brushing past Izumi and marching towards the door to get back inside.

“Don’t go,” Izumi called, causing Lin to stop in her tracks.

“Don’t you want to have a little,” She paused and sent a small burst of fire past Lin’s ear.

“Fun?” She finished as Lin turned back to look at her, digging her nails into her palms.

“Are you challenging me to an Agni Kai?” She asked incredulously.

“Only if you think you’re up to it, sugar,” Izumi smiled wickedly at Lin, knowing a taunt like that would piss her off more than anything.

“You’re on,” Lin snarled.

“Wonderful,” Izumi’s smile widened and she sauntered towards Lin, reaching forwards to straighten Lin’s collar.

Lin narrowed her eyes and pulled away from Izumi, clearing the path to the door before following her inside. Izumi led her down several long hallways before they came to another outdoor space, this one with a stone floor and no plant life anywhere. Izumi walked across the empty space, twirling lightly when she was a reasonable distance from Lin. She cocked her head to the side, feigning innocence as Lin stalked a large circle around her.

“How could you,” Lin said in a low voice.

“How could you hurt all those people?!” She shouted, sending a bright flash of lightning at Izumi.

Izumi reached one arm forward and caught the lighting, redirecting it right back at Lin. Lin inhaled sharply and rolled to avoid the strike, swinging her leg out and bending a white flame at Izumi’s leg. Izumi stepped calmly out of the way, a wide grin on her face.

“You still sure you’re up for this?” She teased, dodging two balls of bright flame that Lin punched at her head.

“You hurt my family, my friends,” Lin shouted, continuing her barrage on the Firelord.

“You’ve forced so many people into military service, and countless others into labour camps,” She continued, high-kicking a flame at Izumi’s head.

Izumi ducked the blow and stepped closer to Lin, opening her palm just in front of Lin’s stomach. Lin yelped and jumped back, pressing a hand to her scorched shirt. She growled and launched herself at Izumi again, punching fireball after fireball at her with no relent. Izumi continued to duck and dodge her blows, weaving her way across the open ground and making their fight seem almost like a dance.

Lin was panting when she finally got Izumi with her back to a wall. Izumi put her hands up in mock defeat, smirking at Lin’s dishevelled appearance and heavy breathing.

“Take it easy there, troublemaker,” She hummed, pushing herself off the wall so that she stood mere centimetres from Lin’s face.

Lin let out a feral yell and brought large white flames to her hands, shoving Izumi back against the wall. She was just about ready to make Izumi regret ever challenging her, when she heard a voice from behind her.

“Lin, what are you doing?!” Kya shouted at the top of her lungs.

Lin turned to see Kya standing halfway across the field, her eyes wide in horror. The fire at Lin’s hands dulled, turning back to yellow, then orange. Izumi took her momentary distraction to slip away from the wall, positioning herself to Lin’s right.

“I’m sorry she has to watch this,” She said wickedly, barely giving Lin time to react before creating a fire at Lin’s feet, quickly growing it so there was no way for her to get out. Her screams were muffled by the roar of the fire, but dissolved after only a moment.

Kya let out a loud cry and Izumi looked in her direction, smiling darkly at the waterbender. Izumi stayed where she stood until she was sure there was nothing left of Lin, only then letting the raging fire die. Kya had been frozen in place until their other friends found them there, rushing towards her.

“Where’s Lin?” Izumi heard Bumi ask.

“She just- she-,” Kya stuttered before her shock turned to pure rage.

“That bitch just killed her,” Kya hissed before running full speed at Izumi.

She pulled the water from her waterskin and turned it into a hundred icy daggers, sending them all shooting at Izumi with a raw yell. Izumi created a wall of fire in front of her, melting the daggers before sending a spiral of orange heat towards Kya. Kya was knocked back by the blow, but her companions weren’t far behind her.

Tenzin sent a gust of wind at Izumi, causing her to lose her balance for a split second. It was enough that with Su shifting the ground below her just slightly, she fell backwards. Bumi stepped around a now standing Kya, drawing his sword and extending it towards Izumi, pressing the tip against her throat. Izumi drew in a sharp breath and glared up at the four.

“You’ll only make things worse,” She seethed.

“My father would never forgive you,” She put her hand on the blade, beginning to heat it with her bending.

“The war will never end,” The blade was starting to glow beneath her grasp when Bumi noticed.

He pulled it swiftly back towards him, cutting her hand badly in the process. She grit her teeth against the searing pain in her palm, closing her eyes for a moment.

“You killed her,” Kya said, shoving past her brother to stand over Izumi.

“You. Killed. My. Lin,” Kya stared intently at Izumi as she stretched her hands out in front of her.

Izumi let a cry escape her throat as Kya lifted her off the ground, suspending her in midair. A tear slipped from Kya’s eye as she twisted Izumi’s limbs grotesquely. She felt as it dripped from her chin and rushed through the air towards the cold stone below their feet. As soon as it hit the floor, she clenched her fists to stop Izumi’s heart.

[blankdblank]

Poke Pt 5 - Graduation

…

Names bled on and on in the coliseum shaped event center where your ceremony was being held after having giggled your way through the excited hugs and chatter of your adopted brother who now sat filming from his seat still smiling. Underneath the crimson robe and silver sash you had settled on a black sleeveless blouse with a floppy ribbon bow in the front that bled to blush to match the dress slacks you had on that bled from black at the waist to blush on your hips and hung in circles around your nude colored wedges entirely.

Speeches from the school officials had already been given and more than a few glances at the small barrel beside the podium were stolen until with diploma in hand after everyone else had accepted theirs you listened to Cindy give her speech as Salutatorian. Waiting off to the side of the stage once you tied the ponytail of your curls not held in the braids down the sides of your head to help heel them in control.

Tucked in your trembling hands pressed to the front of your legs was the diploma and framed plaque stating that you had been granted one of the six offered scholarships matched by the medal on the ribbon around your neck. You wanted your mask and with a glance at Eddie you couldn’t help but grin and giggle to yourself at the weird face he made your way even with view of the anxious and curious Avengers who sat to the side of the three teenagers who sat whispering about the project with phones ready to film the demonstration.

Cindy stepped aside and gave you a comforting grin tapping her finger on the mug rested on the podium you had almost lost three times in the back halls before the walk out to take your seats. Up to the podium the Dean walked with a smile stating, “Thank you Cindy. And now our Valedictorian, Pluto Pear has not just a speech but a demonstration of a project she has been perfecting in the final semester of her time here at Midtown. And we are so proud to say she chose our school to attend after immigrating to the United States from her studies in Sweden and Russia.”

He smiled your way in his step aside to his own seat after another glance at the barrel on your step forward to the round of cheers and excited whistles. Forcing out a grin you said, “I think the one thing that my teachers can agree on is that I tend to ramble when not on a crisp outline, so when I was told I was expected to come up with a speech things got a bit on a tangent. I went from about five sheets of torn up ideas of motivational things to try and say obviously my mind went to what we could aspire to do, which I am halfway anticipating myself to end up with a fancy hat shop in the end thanks to my indecisiveness on which way I’m going.”

Chuckles rippled through your classmates and you said, “Which had my mind wander naturally as it was Christmas time talks of Howard Stark and his son both personally flying in the big tree for the lighting ceremony easing the usual transportation nightmare we’ve faced for now on half a century. And I came up with these.” You said lifting the rings that had been laid on the top of the barrels lid after settling your diploma and framed plaque on the podium.

Eyes scanned over the rather unimpressive rings that with a shift of the camera across the monitors that closed in on your upper body and the rings allowing Tony to use his enhanced glasses to try and analyze the rings himself from his seat that from the distance he got confused at the lack of known metal in them. “There’s big money and hassle in transportation of agriculture and if we could just get the plant from the ground to the location it’s going to be planted in.” Your eyes dropped from the crowd to the rings and the handheld calculator like controller you pulled from your pocket that had the matte grey rings of sideways laying circles that upon its green glow inside they now took spiral shapes in their rotation around the charged reaction almost like a double helix from a distance. The colors soon rippling to a spectrum of colors enough to fill out a pastel rainbow, the reaction that had Loki mutter in Ancient Asgardian, “Thor, I may be incorrect in my assumption-,”

Thor in awe replied, “That’s a rainbow portal. She’s tapped Yggdrasil.”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd while you were watched using your fingertips to expand the rings to about two feet around. And in a couple waves of the controller one ring floated a couple feet off the ground next to you on one side of the podium and the other above your head on your right a few feet away. The mug with cow patterns on it was lifted and you said, “I started with a couple mugs, which are now broken, but I finally got the field right for the exit.”

From your palm the mug flipped at the fling of your hand to spiral in its drop to fall through the hoop that sparked up and was mirrored by the beam of rainbow light that shone out the other ring aimed at the ground the mug fell through to hover a couple feet from the ground. Tight and sharp MJ’s hand gripped Peter’s sleeve shaking his open mouthed self as she squeaked out, “She did it! Beam me up Scotty, right there!”

Ned open mouthed said, “Someone from our school built a teleporter. This is beyond cool!” his comments died to excited comments from the entire crowd.

In their silence you said after fetching the mug, “Which, it’s a mug. Where’s the fun in that? I forgot to bring my daisies for a living example, so-,” Shrieks of excitement and gasps came in a surge of people to their feet watching your spring over the ring that expanded to morph around your body which vanished in a poof of your gown and lift of your cap from your stubborn curls fighting it all day.

You appeared first, expected but shockingly so at the same time, to fall from the ring on the other side. Awkwardly to one knee you forced the landing, as if you couldn’t naturally stick it and the place erupted as Tony stood open mouthed still recording your downward gaze and muffled giggles at the response to the project. To your side the cap dropped to a hover and was grabbed by you and put on again. When your eyes rose out of the beam you stepped and rose up again to fetch the controller that in the spark of the ring you had leapt into had it hover to be lowered into the barrel of salt to douse the reaction. “And that’s what the salt is for.”

To your side the second ring hovered and began to spark while being lowered in the barrel you added the lid to again and said after another giggle when the crowd had silenced again. “So this year aliens fell from the sky, none of us really know what to do with that news and I might end up with nothing more than a fancy hat shop to my name when I earn my headstone, but who knows where we’ll be. Because that’s all we really have in the end, the limits we set for ourselves for the stance of impossible. Thank you so very much for working with my randomness all of these years I will never forget the impression each and every one of you have made upon the school and my experience in it.” You gave the cheering crowd an anxious wave and lifted the diploma, plaque and mug you set on the barrel you hoisted up to your hip and smiled at the still awe struck Dean and staff on your way to your seat to sit partially hiding behind your barrel.

Pats and excited hugs came from the students around you in the rain of graduation caps all the way back to the back halls you went and waded through a barrage of requests for pictures out to the front hall. There both the Princes smiled proudly as Eddie scooped you and your barrel up in a tight hug the teens followed with their own hugs between questions and excited chatter.

“Let’s feed you!” Eddie said and out to the front entrance where the cars Tony had ordered were filled to take you to the high end eatery that took up the whole floor of a hotel. A place Tony assured your brother was open to ‘substitutions’ on the menu after his having heard from Peter about your troubles on school trips and places to eat before.

“You can leave the barrel over there.” He said gesturing to an empty table where you also left the robe, sash and the medal you removed to hang over one of the chairs. With a free swipe of his phone Tony read the results of the scan he took of the contents, namely the ring and asked, “That wasn’t electricity, and, the barrel is giving off oxygen. How’d you do it?”

“There’s stronger forces on the planet than electricity.”

“It’s not radioactive, and it’s in a barrel so solar and wind is out.”

Thor said, “Shieldmaiden Pear has tapped into the strength of Yggdrasil.”

Tony looked at you saying, “Eggs, you powered the rings with eggs?”

Loki said in his glide of your chair out to usher you away from the nosy scientist in the politest of ways. “Yggdrasil is the tree that joins the nine realms.”

“Photosynthesis is far more powerful than people give it credit.” Crossing to his side you lowered to ease onto the chair the Prince slid in closer to the table at Eddie’s side then Loki strolled around the table to claim his own seat across from yours.

“Flower power, and here I thought we were getting somewhere intelligent.”

Loki says, “You should listen to her. She’s the first mortal to have grasped the concept of harnessing that power source or even recognizing it.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Don’t be ridiculous. Flowers?” Stark said taking his own seat while the others took theirs and Peter stole a glance at his friends who settled on your other side past him.

“People plant sunflowers and mushrooms in radioactive zones to neutralize the radiation. People never knew electricity existed for a huge chunk of our history, they used to drink radium before they realized how potent and dangerous it was. Mint and blackberry plants can take over civilizations if not kept in check. You have no idea what power you water in those tiny bright colored pots on your windowsill. You harness that you can change the world in a way that can’t be governed or restricted or hoarded to be used against your enemies. Countries keep drilling for energy when all they need is to just think outside of the box. It’s so much more than Mother Nature at work here. Every seed knows what to do, how?”

He shakes his head, “In their DNA I would assume. Same as us.”

“And like us we have a power center. Our brains. Theirs is just smaller. This whole planet down to its molten core is alive.”

MJ said, “Just like that DR Who episode with the flying space whale.”

“Exactly. We need to stop electrocuting the Pilot of this ship and let it take us to where we’re going.”

Loki, “Finally, someone brilliant on this planet. Only took six thousand years.”

“You know people aren’t going to believe you right?” Banner said in a reach for the wine glass of water left on the table in front of him.

“Oh they will. And they’ll start burning the planet down to make sure they keep control. Because there’s nothing more dangerous in the history of our race than a human who feels like they are close to being powerless. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Tony looked you over with a purse of his lips for a moment. “They’ll believe me. Then like so many brilliant minds before me one day I’ll just be gone, or discredited and branded as deranged.”

Bruce asked, “So how does some mystical tree link to those rings?”

Thor chuckled, “The rings are a Rainbow Portal similar to our Bifrost transportation system.”

Tony asked as the waiter offered out the menus to each of you, “She can go to other planets with those rings?”

“They only work about a mile apart right now.” You said lowering your eyes to the menu your fingers blindly flipped open.

Thor, “Mainly due to the current setting I would wager. However it would merely be a matter of linking the system to one of our gateways and the distance could be heightened exponentially.”

Tony said, “But she could go to another planet?”

Bruce asked, “And you came up with that from a giant Christmas tree?”

“More or less.”

Tony, “How?”

“Not saying, or selling it. Not to who will have access to it through you.”

“Ah,” he said and gave a nod, “Very bold statement.”

MJ said, “She’s got a point. You help the government who will want to use it, next thing we know another Hiroshima happens without any alarm system to warn the targets.”

Tony scoffed and Eddie said, “No shortage of History proving that logical response,” he looked to the Princes asking, “They ask you about the Bifrost yet and how it works?”

Thor, “We refused to grant access. The planet is not prepared for this technology.”

Bruce teased, “And yet a child figured it out.”

Loki said, “Yggdrasil trusts very few gatekeepers. Were anyone to steal the technology from Miss Pear they would find them uncooperative, and that mile limit is the stretch between root channels where the power is the strongest.”

Bruce, “So the tree won’t let anyone else use the rings?”

“Not a soul,” Thor said.

And Tony asked, “Why her?”

Loki answered, “She listens. Clearly.”

Tony looked to you as Bucky said, “You must really love plants, build that to just move them.”

Peter said, “You know there are Mother trees, who adopt whole forests of smaller trees. And their roots can stretch and tangle for miles around the trunks. Trees share nutrients and food they get from sunlight even if they grow in the shade of taller trees. They talk and help each other.” Everyone looked at him and he said, “If people were like trees we’d be living in Eden. We have to protect the trees, and if we can move them safer, could help everyone.”

Bucky asked you, “So you’re going to study plants?”

“Among other things. Did you go to school, internet says Steve went to Art School?”

“I was actually in study to be a real estate agent. Which seemed to be a good way to earn some scratch back then.”

“You gonna pick it up again? I’m sure the team could help you find something to sell. After all they have the Captain in propaganda infomercials for our school to try and compel us to be our better selves.”

Steve glanced away out of embarrassment as Ned and MJ started parroting their favorite clips back to him that had Bucky smirk and eager to hear more on what his friend had been up to for a living while they were apart.

Steve asked, “You have a job for school?”

“I usually keep four during summers and two part time jobs the rest of the year.”

Bruce said, “Can’t imagine the scholarship will help much. What did you get?”

“Ten grand. It’ll help me pay for the rest of my Bachelor’s Degrees, and maybe half of one class into my bigger degrees.”

Tony said, “So I would assume you would be in need of a paid internship then? With a certain intelligent entrepreneur who has a lab at his disposal.”

“I think I might not be the person you would want to hire. I rarely share my ideas and tend to change designs of others to improve upon them.”

Tony, “And how would you improve upon my super suit, for example?”

“I would certainly reverse the audio pulses it emits into your body and those around you.”

“My suit doesn’t give off pulses. I’ve tested it.” He replied and you nodded turning the page in the menu after you had given your drink order to the waiter. His eyes scanned over you and he asked, “How did you test that theory of yours?”

“You aren’t very good at keeping your suit to yourself if you didn’t want other people scanning it. Even videos on YouTube show the signs.”

Bruce said, “The other guy doesn’t like being near your suit very long, could be something there.”

The delivery of drinks had their argument over what it could be stop as he noticed Eddie’s hushed conversation with you and pat of his hand on your hand rested on top of your lap. The motion had Tony’s eyes linger on you while you gave a brow twitching butcher of the Chef’s favorite dish to fit your own preference that had enough of a reaction to cause the Princes to do the same and see how obedient the Chef would be to Stark’s paycheck. And when you were alone in the room again he said, “I suppose now would be as good a time as any. You now have 50 grand to go to your schooling.”

“I’m not selling you anything and I have enough jobs to fund my way.”

“You would prefer to struggle your way through years of debt and then be lost to the abyss of not having a job and applying to the few locations possible?”

“Your grandfather worked a fruit stand and his wife worked in a shirt factory when they came to this country.” That had Steve and Bucky glance between you, “I’m gonna carve my own future. I’ll be fine. Builds character. Thank you though. I know you won’t miss it but all the same, no thank you.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he scoffed, “You obviously don’t know the worth of even a grand.”

“Coming from the Billionaire who could change the lives of everyone in this country and still have ample funds to retire on above Middle Class, you’re the one who doesn’t know what it would mean to someone who needs $20 to make it to Friday. I can work, I have some savings. Put your money where it can be useful to someone who doesn’t.”

“And who says it won’t be useful with you?”

“Who says I won’t just donate it to underprivileged schools to tide some teachers over when their checks are bound to be cut yet again thanks to that new bill Senate is pushing?”

“Who says I haven’t already donated to teacher salaries before?”

“There would be more schools named after you if you had. Big name like yours pays attention to the little people suddenly everyone cares, for a few minutes at least.”

“You don’t want some of that attention?” He asked and you shook your head. “You gave that presentation.”

“I’d have flunked an exam if I would have known I’d have to give a speech at all to run in third.” Making Bruce chuckle at the shared hatred of public speaking.

Thor broke the stalemate and asked, “Shieldmaiden Pear, which one of your parents does your brother resemble most?”

Eddie smirked and laid his hand across your lap and smiled when your hands settled around his forearm when he said, “I’m adopted. Found this one in the park, some assholes had roughed her up. Took her home and patched her up, never could get shaken free.”

Steve asked, “They catch the guys who did it?”

Eddie said, “Venom ate them. Got caught in a trap at the wrong time.”

Loki drew your eyes to him when he said, “Yes, the Symbiote. Known to be quite fond of children, and it is no bit of chance that him and that Misique character have grown close. Only way to find peace with their race is to allow them to find a host and then form a familial bond. Otherwise they decimate the population of the planet they are dropped on.”

Natasha asked, “Venom’s an alien?”

Bruce, “Symbiote? Like a parasite?”

Thor, “No more a parasite then your Hulk. Mutually protective entities who share the same physical space.”

Steve, “Alien, and he’s been here for years. How many more of him are there?”

Ned, “No wonder Misique was so skilled in taking the bad aliens down.”

Across the table in the flurry of chatter while you sat quiet a glance at the brothers was stolen. The blonde who gave you a puffy cheeked smile and Loki, who mid answer to Bucky shifted his gaze to follow the source of the gaze and looked over your face when you finished chewing your bite and lifted your glass of raspberry tea. A couple bites later and he looked again when the chair across from him was empty and Natasha took the chance to slip out behind you.

On the other side of the incredibly upscale stall she turned at the sound of your steps to the sink beside hers with a smile. “Impressive job today. And for the record I am proud of your want to build yourself up. Not easy, I’ve been there more than once. Plus you aren’t wrong, those rings out of your control would only spell disaster.”

You smirked through washing your hands and you asked, “How likely am I to end up with a check shoved into my pocket when I leave?”

“Fairly likely. Maybe not in your pocket, you impressed him. No matter what he says.”

Back to your seat you went and continued listening until it was time to gather your things and head for the car that Tony opened the door to saying, “You should take the money. Change your mind let me know. And we’ll get you as many degrees as you like.”

Loki said in his turn to say farewell after his brother had, “Celebrate today. You gave a fine demonstration to the other mortals and have discovered things far beyond their capabilities. Continue your research.”

“Thank you. And I know it was a bit of a lengthy ceremony.”

Thor chuckled teasing, “Clearly you are ignorant of the monotony of Asgardian Royal processions which can take up to half a day on occasion.”

“Not sure how I’d be anything but ignorant on anything royal. This planet or otherwise. Enjoy your day hope it turns out magnificent, Your Majesties. I’ll be off to take my barrel of salt home.”

They chuckled and nodded their heads to Eddie in his dip into the car behind you, eager to get you home and celebrate on your own. Off to the side however Tony asked Peter, “What was that with the tree bit at the table?”

Peter answered, “Bumble told me. We watched Prom night drives home together.”

“Pete, don’t go down that path.” He sighed and Rhodey stepped closer with the others.

Rhodey asked, “What else she say?”

Peter, “Said she’s been looking in to SHIELD, said there’s spies,” that had faces drop and he continued, “She’s got PTSD. When she moved here what happened to her parents, she saw stories in the press about people hurting kids and she started having flashbacks.”

Natasha said, “She did say she was in therapy now.”

Steve asked Rhodey, “What’s PTSD?” quietly to not interrupt the teen.

Peter said, “She’s not a bad person, she’s just healing from some very bad stuff. And she’s trying to help people, maybe not the government, but the people.”

Tony said, “And just why hasn’t she said anything about that to me then?”

Reluctantly the teen said, “She said you haven’t been hurt by the system yet and you still trust it.”

Tony said, “So I trust the system and there’s spies in the organization that’s defending our country and possibly world. Sure, let’s distrust that.”

Bucky said, “If I wanted to bring down SHIELD I know where I’d get hired.”

And Peter said, “Hey, that’s what she said too.” He looked to the car that MJ called out from and he said, “Just give her a chance, she just needs some friends. Helped to save the world. Could be great for the team.”

Tony sighed and said to himself, “That would be useful, if she could be a team player.”

Pt 6

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​​,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​

X Loki - @pastelhexmaniac

[pi-cat000]

MSA: Take Back The Future (part 2)

Summary: Vivi and Arthur travel back in time to the beginning of Hellbent. Neither of them are okay. (Vivi and Arthur friendship. Time travel fix it. Lots of angst. Hurt Arthur)

(Part 1)

Part 3: here

.

Arthur’s head spins as he is yanked to around and behind Vivi with enough force to give him whiplash. Vivi’s grip on his hand tightens, becoming almost painful. The air around the two of them grows cold. It’s cold enough that Arthur can see his breath misting. With Vivi now directly in front of him, he no longer has a good view of Mystery. Fine by him. The brief reprieve gives him the precious seconds he needs to pull his head together and stamp down the overwhelming wave of fear that has his whole body shaking uncontrollably. The cold isn’t helping.

“You can talk,” Vivi’s voice cuts with unconfined ire, “It was all real. That future was real.”

Mystery makes to step forward and jump down from the van but stops when Vivi snaps, “Don’t move.”

Arthur’s not the only one who remembers nightmare Mystery, towering over them with sharp teeth and a penetrating, inescapable gaze. Great. He’s shaking even more now. Arthur glances at his mechanical arm, clenching and unclenching his fist to reassure himself that it’s still there and under his control.

/I mean you no harm./ Mystery placates, noting their unease, /This is ….unexpected. I assure you, I am just as confused./

“You’re confused!?” Vivi draws herself up, staring Mystery down with hard determination. Her hand, the one that’s not holding his, seams to reach for something that isn’t there.

“I just found out that my dog isn’t a dog. Seconds ago I was watching my best friend get ripped apart! ”

Arthur’s not sure if it’s light of the full moon reflecting off Vivi’s blue cloths, but she seems to glow a silvery-blue.

Mystery’s eyes shift to him, puzzled, then back to Vivi, searching. /I am not sure what you are referring to. Please explain. /

“No. Not until you answer some questions first.”

Once more, Mystery glances between them before settling back on the seat. He seems more concerned than threatening and Arthur feels somewhat reassured.   Vivi takes the opportunity to glance back at him and he gives a helpless shrug not sure whether he should try and mention possibly-dead-Lewis now or later. He has his own questions for Mystery regarding Lewis’s disappearance but finds them all stuck halfway in his throat. Does he even want answers at this point?

“What are you.” Vivi turns back to Mystery and starts her questioning.

/I am a Kitsune. A fox spirit of significant power. You already know much about my kind from the many folk tales concerning Japanese mythology which you read as a child./

“That stuff was real? I thought most supernatural folklore was exaggerated”

/Some tales are true. Many are not. Most blend the truth with fiction./

Arthur can practically feel the frustration rolling off Vivi in waves.

“Gee thanks, that really clears everything up.”

/Obviously, there is more to the situation, but this is all very sudden and I am unsure…/

Whatever Mystery is trying to say is cut off by Vivi’s next barrage of questions.

“Why is there a tree lady trying to drink your blood and what does that have to do with this,” Vivi holds up her hand and Arthur can see blue frost collecting between her fingers, running along her arm “What’s happening to me, or was I supposed to have read about this in a book as well!”

If a dog could go pale, Mystery would be as white as a ghost. Or maybe not a ghost, because Lewis had been coloured primarily purple. Arthur watches the dog recoil away in an approximation of shock. He would say the other looked genuinely scared.

/Shiromori? How could you possibly know about that?/ The dog shakes his head, standing abruptly.  Both he and Vivi take a cautious step back. Well, he takes a step back and inadvertently pulls Vivi with him. Mystery hesitates in the face of their blatant mistrust.

/How do you know about Shiromori?/

“We’re not sure. Some sort of shared vision of the future maybe?”

“It was real,” Arthur interrupts, tramping down his unease, “I don’t know how, but it definitely felt real…when… I died.” He stops, wincing. His arm sparks bright purple.

“A lot happened in...the future?” Vivi takes over when he fails to continue speaking, to busy staring at his arm in terror, “I guess it was the future wasn’t it. Is that even possible?”

/Perhaps. There are ways to reverse time…/

“Seriously?”

/ I have sworn an oath to protect the Yukino family as is custom when my kind owes a debt. Part of this oath entails that I maintain a seal which acts as a barrier between Yukino family heirs and their access to the full spiritual power of their bloodline,/ Mystery rushes through the explanation with mounting urgency. Arthur’s arm sparks again. Pain shoots through his shoulder and his attention snaps to the highway, currently empty, stretching away on either side of him in both directions. Everything is unnervingly still.

“Vivi…” He pulls at Vivi’s arm to get her attention.

/This frost that gathers around us right now is a manifestation of spiritual power leaking into the physical plane. It is a danger to regular humans and, for so much to be leaking through, the seal would have to have been damaged. Something catastrophic would need to have befallen both of us for this to happen. It is of vital importance that you explain exactly what happened /

“Vivi…” He hisses, loud enough to interrupt. Mystery’s attention jumps onto him again and he falters again.

Vivi, somewhat stunned by the sudden onslaught of information, glances over her shoulder at him, “What is it?”

He opens his mouth to speak but no sound comes out. Instead, he is stuck staring at Mystery.

“Arthur?”

Vivi turns quickly to glare at Mystery, snapping, “Do you mind…” and the dog looks away, uncertain.  

He takes a breath, forcing out his warning, “We need to go, or move somewhere else. Lewis…I mean the purple fire ghost, the one from the mansion, will be here soon.”

“What?”

“You were unconscious for that part. We were chased by the purple ghost before the…ah…tree lady attacked. I was trying to escape…It’s how we ended up crashing into Kingsman Mechanics.”

Another particularly violent spark and his arm goes completely dead, falling limp and useless. He winces, freeing his other hand so he can massage his shoulder. Nervously, he checks the highway again, searching for any hint of Lewis’s spooky ghost truck. Would he have to live through the whole experiences of being chased down and almost thrown to his death again? He’s not sure he can handle it a second time.

Vivi’s hand lands on his shoulder, ice-cold, soothing some of the pain.

“Yeah, I was wondering what the fire ghost’s deal was,” Vivi falters, suddenly angry,  “Did it do something to your arm? How are you still affected if we time-traveled?”

/There appears to be a curse attached to his arm. These sorts of forces are unbound by the natural flow of time./ Mystery speaks over them, /It must have been activated recently or was too faint for me to notice before now./

“A curse which manifests with purple sparks...like the one we think took my memories? Wait, do you know what happened to my memories.”

/If Arthur is right about Shiromori’s intentions to attack while we are on the road then we shall remain here and prepare for a confrontation./ 

Part 3: here

[nebraska-is-a-myth]

Your cold dead heart - part 9

I am very behind on recent events on the smp, but I promise after these next few chapters we’ll start catching up to the present with all the shlatt stuff. Just bare with me okay :)

Masterlist

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“Why do you wear them? The glasses?”

Eret shifts in the bed slightly, it’s not like he's never been asked the question before, he just never thought he would be so willing to tell anyone the answer, let alone a child.

“You don't uh, have to tell me if you don't want.”

Tommy says it so quietly, so full of concern, it's strange to Eret not hearing the boy be so loud and brash all the time. He sometimes forgets how young the boy really is.

“Shit hit the fan back at my old job, had to lay low for a while. Still kind have to.”

The two stay quiet for a while, Eret knows Tommy is curious, it’s what makes Tommy Tommy, but Erets not sure if he can tell the boy what he wants to know.

“What was it like, back in England? I don't remember much of it from before I moved.”

Tommys the one to shift now, they're both under the covers just staring up at the ceiling. Tommy had come in to seek Erets comfort after another nightmare, the teen usually came to Eret on nights like this and Wilbur on some occasions, but now the tears had stopped, neither one could find themselves particularly drowsy.

“It was nice, a lot nicer than here. You would have liked it, all the greenery, trees everywhere, weather wasn't great over there though. Rained a lot more.”

“That I remember.”

They both share a soft chuckle and the room goes silent again.

“I got involved in some really bad stuff when I was younger, much worse than any of this.”

Tommy doesn't respond, Erets almost thankful for it.

“I got offered a position at MI6 when we eventually got caught. I had a choice, either join the secret services and do whatever they say, or get beaten to death halfway through my life sentence in prison.”

“So I worked undercover at MI6, doing whatever the fuck they told me to, too scared of going to prison to ever question what I was doing. Until one day they asked me to do something and I just couldn't, so I ran. I had no money, no friends, nowhere to hide. They had my fingerprints and retina scans, that's how they keep track of all of their agents both in and out of the field, they're shitty people but they're smart. That's how I met Dream actually. I knew of George from the work I was doing, he was on MI6 radar, and well, George knew of me because he’s a good hacker. Knew everyone who was against him. They offered to help me out if I did a few clean up tasks here and there, offered me safety in the SMP, so I took it. And you know the rest.”

“I just thought you pissed off the queen or something.”

”Go to sleep Tommy.”

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Eret is alive!

He is alive and breathing and standing in front of them with sunlight reflecting off his stupid black sunglasses and all Tubbo wants to do is run over to Eret and give him the biggest hug. But then he hears Tommy's breathing pick up next to him. Tubbo turns his head towards his friend and he doesn't know what to do. Tommy's body is rigid and there are tears streaming down his face, his eyes are fixed on Eret but he hasn't blinked in what feels like forever. Something is wrong, something is very wrong. He can't tell whether his friend is having a panic attack or if he’s just in shock, but he knows Tommy needs help. And it seems like sapnap’s noticed too. 

“What's up with the kid.”

Tubbo makes eye contact with Wilbur and he hopes the older man understands the panic stricken look he gives him, Tommy is not okay. Wilbur hurry's over to Tommy's side and cups his face with his warm hands, Wilbur hasn't seen Tommy this grief stricken in, well, ever. Sure he cried and sobbed when he thought his friend was dead, but it was nothing like this. This is terrifying.

“Tommy, hey Tommy it's me, it’s Wilbur. Can you hear me Toms, your safe alright. It's just me, your safe.”

Wilbur feels so scared, anything could be going through Tommy's brain right now. His limbs have locked into place and his eyes look so, empty. 

It feels like forever before Tommy finally gasps and breaks out of whatever flashback he was having. Wilbur feels a wave of relief wash over him and he holds Tommy's face in his hands. “Hey, it's okay, it's okay, It’s just me Tommy.”

“Wilbur, I, I don't know what's, what's happenin.”

Tommy sounds so broken and so scared, Wilbur doesn't know how to help the boy. Wilbur presses his forehead against Tommy's and he can feel Tommy grip on his shirts just below his body armor.

“Eret, is, is he”

“He’s alive Toms, he's okay.”

Tommy lets out a breath and the two separate for a short moment.

Tommy looks past Wilbur at the man in question, he sees the sunglasses on his face, and the gun in his hand, and suddenly the sadness is completely wiped from his face. Tommy softly moves past Wilbur and he sees sapnap raise his gun slightly.

“How are you alive?”

Nobody answers him for a second, even George is surprisingly quiet for once. The atmosphere changes around them and suddenly all Tommy can feel is anger.

“I said, how are you alive.”

“Answer me!”

“Tommy.”

“Shut up dream, let him speak.” Wilbur steps forward closer to Tommy, now catching on to what the boy is implying.

“I watched you drown! Tell my why you aren't fucking rotting at the bottom of the ocean Eret or I swear to god you're gonna wish you fucking were.”

“We were never going to win Tommy.”

“I don't give a shit Eret! Why are you not fucking dead!”

“There were oxygen tanks okay. An oxygen tank and a tunnel that takes you to the other side of town. The plan was-”

“The plan! You fucking planned this!”

“The plan was to swim out and get here and convince you to surrender.”

A chorus of disbelief erupts from the people of l’manburg and in the chaos Tommy lunges forwards and draws his pistol on Eret.

“I- We trusted you!”

“Tommy I-”

“We fucking trusted you!”

“Tommy put the gun down”

“He betrayed us Fundy!”

“It wasn't meant to be Tommy.”

“Shut the fuck up you bastard.”

Suddenly everything goes silent as Tommy feels the cold metal of a gun pressed to the back of his head.

“I suggest you lower that gun Tommy.”

“Why don't you take that gun and shove it up your-”

“Tommy! I am ordering you to stand down!”

Tommy stares at Eret for a second longer while the silence suffocates him, before swatting sapnaps gun away from his head and walking back towards Wilbur.

George puffs and turns to dream like a nagging child.

“I’m bored, are we fighting or not.”

Tommy is raging, he wants to scream and shout at Eret and punch him until his knuckles break. But he’s not here to fight for himself, he’s here to fight for L’manburg. He’s here for his friends, and most importantly, for independence. So with his anger boiling, and his head held high, TommyInnit goes to war.

“You wanna fight, lets fucking fight.”

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Fundy is the first to fall. He’s hit with a bullet in his right shoulder that sends red hot pain scorching though his body. He feels paralyzed and Tubbo has to help him back behind cover to tend to his wounds. “I’ll be fine, I just need to keep pressure on it, go and help the others.”

“Are you sure, this is a lot of blood?”

“Yes Tubbo, I’m sure. Now go.”

Tubbo is reluctant to leave his friend, but he can hear his team mates shouting at one another, they were running low on ammo, whereas the dream smp seemed to produce the bullets out of thin air. It was barely a fair fight to begin with, they certainly didn't need two of their team members away from the fight. Tubbo runs back out towards where Tommy is firing and sets his gun back into position.

“How many rounds you got.”

Tommy ducks for a moment to check.

“I've got one clip left.” He takes a deep breath and peaks over the edge at the opposing team. “Cover me.”

“Tommy what are you, Tommy!”

Tommy runs out across the barrage of bullets, straight into enemy territory. Tubbo does as he says and fires straight back at the people who have spotted the blonde, Tommy needs to move, and fast. He spots Eret across the war strip and heads out of cover towards them. He’s almost within punching distance when a sudden weight pushes him to the ground.

“Look who we've got here.” Tommy tries to get up but Sapnap just pushes him back down onto the floor again, face first. “Well if it isn't the little cry baby.”

Sapnap presses his heel into Tommy's back and the familiar feel of Sapnaps gun forces Tommys face into the dirt.

“Get off me dickead.”

The other man chuckles and makes Tommys blood boil, he never really did understand why Dream was friends with him. Maybe it was fear, or maybe this was who Dream really was, a ruthless, merciless killer. (Tommy sometimes wondered whether the persona was just another lie.)

“Move sapnap, this one's mine.”

George? What does George want with Tommy?

Sapnap grabs Tommy by the back of his shirt and forces him to his feet, pushing him in George's direction .

Tommy feels the pain before he registers what's happening. Gorge punches hard. Warmth blooms in his nose and he can feel his head spinning, when he’s finally able to look at George properly, he thinks he sees two of them.

“I never understood why Dream took you in, you were dirty and poor and fucking useless at almost everything.”

Oh, so this is why George wanted him.

Tommy raises his arms in defense, he knew how to fight, techno taught him that, he just had to block George until everything stopped spinning.

“I never understood why he spoke to such a pathetic kid like you, why he trusted you. But then he told me what his plan was, and it finally clicked. Dream doesn't give a shit about you Tommy.”

George swings again, Tommy blocks.

“You're just another pawn for him to mess with, another character for the cameras.”

Swing

Block

“You're just a dead weight to him, a burden for him to find purpose for.”

Swing

“Did you really think he cared about you?.”

Block

“You're not loved, you're not special.”

Swing

“When you die here today, nobody will remember you, no one will even-”

Hit

George holds a hand to his jaw and smirks at Tommy.

“You can't kill me, no one can.”

“Oh I won't kill you.”

Tommy lowers his hands for a moment, confusion set on his face.

“Dream will.”

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Burning Secrets Obi wan x padawan reader pt 2

Pairing: Obi Wan x Padawan reader

Warning: mild language, mentions of injury

A.n here's part 2! Thanks for reading😚

***************************************************

For the first time in his life Obi wan felt completely useless. Battling

Sith? Childsplay. Waiting for the doctors? Literal hell...

He paced outside where the doctors were treating you. A million thoughts ran through his mind. Why hadn't you told him you were injured? Didn't you trust him? Were you afraid of him?? He sighed for the millionth time running his hand through his disheveled hair.

"General kenobi" a feminine robotic voice called his attention.

He immediately walked over to the driod and asked a barrage of questions,

"The patient will be alright, she is under strict orders to rest for the next few days until doctor Ryylis clears her. You may wait quietly inside until she wakes." With that the driod left promptly.

Obi wan felt slightly relieved however he was still very uneasy. He walked through the white doors and spotted you laying soundly asleep under crisp white covers. He plopped down into the chair beside you watching the slow rise and fall of your chest. Suddenly his worry started to be replaced by anger. What had you been thinking? You could have been seriously impaired or worse! He furrowed his brow for a whole nother reason and suddenly felt the urge to grab you by the shoulders and knock some sense into you. He decided against it however and opted to wait patiently while you slept.

He may or may not have angrily pushed a tendril away from your face when he noticed it bothered your nose unconsciously. And he definitely did not (absolutely did) adjust your blanket everytime you moved and it slipped.

And that time he heard you coughing? He absolutely 100 percent did not lift your head like a delicate rose so you wouldn't choke (100 percent did) and slowly guide it back down while fluffing the pillow.

He glared at you as you slept peacefully. How dare you look so calm when he was feeling like this. Stupid reckless padawans...

*****************************

For the first time in a while you woke up feeling fresh and rested. You slowly opened your eyes and panicked slightly when you didnt see the familiar grey ceiling of your room. Instead bright snowwhite walls filled your vision.

Then like a bolt of lightning the memories came flooding back to you. We were training and then....oh no!

You ever so slightly tilted your head to the right and internally gasped when you saw your master. This was a med bay room, he had found out. Shit

He sensed you and you quickly snapped your eyes shut very nervous. Shit shit shit.

You felt him shift positions and held your breath.

If you couldve seen his expression you would've fainted all over again.

"Are you seriously pretending to be asleep right now?!?!" He practically shouted in disbelief and anger.

You opened your eyes once more and smiled nervously, "O-of course not master haha I was just....adjusting to the light.." you pulled the blanket higher attempting to shield away from his harsh gaze. A mixture of emotion you couldn't quite place yet. Definitely anger tho. Yup that one was clear...

"Well now that you're awake and well adjusted, I believe you have some explaining to do" he said non humorously, and half glaring.

He stood intimidatingly over you with his arms crossed. "You can start with that" he pointed abruptly at your bandaged midsection that you just now took note of.

How were you going to get out of this one?!?

"Well what can I say...those new training sabers sure pack a wallo-" you abruptly shut up with a gasp when he practically growled and slammed his hands down on the bed on either side of you. Ok joking was a horrible terrible idea you noted.

You gulped in fear as you watched him try to calm himself down. "Enough! Tell me the truth." His eyes bore into yours and you hesitated suddenly speechless.

"Now." He added sternly. You swallowed and took a shakey breathe.

"It happened when I was fighting Tane..." you looked away, not being able to bear his penetrating gaze any longer.

"Why didn't you say anything?!" His voice was dark, something you had honestly only heard when he had interegattoed this horrible slave trader before.

"I-I.." you found yourself at another loss for words. How could you tell him? How could you tell him you only wanted to prove yourself? That you secretly felt inferior to the other padawans. Being master kenobi padawan was an honor and many were jealous when you were selected by the council. They made sure to let you know how they felt. It's why you tried extra hard on missions, why you were reckless and why you hid your injury...you didn't want them to be right and the worst thing..you didnt want Obi wan to be disappointed. You would rather take a hundred sabers to the stomach before letting that happen..

Y/n..

Obi wan's eyes softened slightly as he entered your thoughts without permission

You gasped realizing he had heard everything. You suddenly felt very vulnerable.

He sighed letting out some of his anger, "y/n.." he said in a much calmer voice, " I have never been disappointed in you, angry? Yes, annoyed? Almost daily, irritated?-" you felt a rush of shame pass over you before you felt a soft hand on your shoulder,

"what I'm saying is, you've never disappointed me" "I am your master, you dont need to prove yourself to me because I know what your truly capable of. I know you better than anyone. Which is why you have to trust me no matter what... especially when things like this happen .." his eyes shifted over the bandages with worry again. "Its my job to look out for you.."

"Promise me you'll never hide things like this from me again" he looked up into your eyes more vulnerable than you had even seen him.

"I promise" You nodded sincerely. "Good because I'm not quite sure what I'd do if anything ever-" he cut himself off when he realized what he had began to say. An unusual dust of pink on his cheeks. He coughed awkwardly and stood up. "Yes well, I better be going, I have a council meeting" he turned around rigidly while a large smile graced your cheeks.

"Obi wan!" He paused and turned halfway to you from the doorway.

"You sure you wanna attend a meeting dressed like that?" You smirked pointing at his mismatched boots.

He became slightly flustered, mumbling something incoherent under his breathe. He would never in a million years tell you it was because he took a total of 30 seconds to change his clothes and freshen up before returning to you unconscious form.

You couldn't help but smile wider, the mighty obi wan was actually embarrassed "I wouldnt be so smug if I were you, as soon as you're recovered your training will be doubled!"

Oh great

You laughed lightly, "You're on old man"

He turned before you could see the blossoming grin on his face.

Stupid padawans...

A.n thanks for reading! Lemme know what you thought!!