#which means I have to backtrack in order to drive her to work and then head all the way out to the mall area again

[victory-cookies]

everyone in my life just needs me for my car :(

[maria021015]

SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 29 AHEAD!

Just over two hours later they were just driving through Sacramento and they’d made it through the entirety of Zaida’s 80’s playlist, which had left them with the same issue as before - finding a common ground. Zaida was in the mood for some chilled-out vibes, maybe some Coldplay and One Republic. Stiles, on the other hand, had stumbled across her ‘Shaketh Thou Apple Bottom Trousers’ playlist and refused to listen to anything else. Zaida was not opposed to the music itself (it was her playlist, after all), but she didn’t find his mocking amusing.

“What is this?” He laughed as medieval tavern ambience with a lute and harp played.

“Okay, you know what?” She’d had enough of his jabs and disconnected her phone, plunging them into dead silence - apart from the engine humming and the wind rushing past them.

“Oh, come on, I’ll stop. I’ll stop, I promise.” He backtracked, but she crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Nope, you’ve lost your music privileges, Stilinski.” Zaida set her jaw and reached back to pull a bag of lollies from an external pocket of her duffel bag.

“Oh, can I have some?” He perked up at the sweet smell of the candy, peering at the bag from the corner of his eye.

“How about you earn them?” She suggested, remembering a fun game their family used to play on long road trips. “It’s a game, like ‘Never Have I Ever’, except instead of drinking when you lose, you get to eat a lolly when you win a round.”

“Okay, sounds easy enough.” He yielded. “I’ll go first. Never have I ever…had a sibling.”

“Oh come on. Are you really going to play like that?” She rolled her eyes and handed him a pink snake. “Fine then, never have I ever had a restraining order filed against me.”

“Ooft, low blow, Zaida.” He winced but she hummed in satisfaction as she took a strawberries and cream lolly for herself. “Never have I ever discovered I had superpowers.” Zaida handed him a dinosaur bitterly. “Hey, I wanted the purple one,” he complained.

“Too bad, you get the yellow one.” She smirked at him. “Never have I ever crashed a car.”

“You don’t even drive!” Stiles protested as she popped the purple lolly he’d been eyeing off into her mouth, confirming that he had indeed crashed the Jeep before. “Never have I ever…kissed someone.”

“You’re not very good at this game, are you Stilinski?” She snorted smugly and ate another grape-flavoured candy.

“Wait, seriously?” He became momentarily distracted. “You’ve never kissed anyone?”

“Don’t look so surprised. Neither have you.” She got defensive, debating taking another lolly for that.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way, it’s just…well, you’re a pretty girl and you’re relatively popular. You and Isaac never-?” His brows scrunched into a curious frown.

“No,” She interjected before he could continue, clearing her throat uncomfortably, swiftly changing the subject. “Never have I ever fallen in love.”

Stiles hesitated for a moment, not knowing the answer to that question. His feelings towards Lydia were strong, sure, and he’d often simplified it by saying he was in love with her but now that he honestly thought about it, was he actually in love with her? “I don’t know,” He responded in a quiet voice.

“How can you not know?” She questioned him sceptically. “You’re not just lying so you get a lolly, are you?”

“No, I’m honestly not sure,” Stiles admitted. “How do you even figure out if you’re in love or not? I’ve always thought that when it happens you just know, but maybe it’s not that simple.”

“Are you forgetting that was my ‘never have I ever’? I’m not the best person to be asking that.” She snorted, but after a moment of him not replying she realised he was being serious and tried to think of a proper answer. She dug deep into everything she’d always imagined it would be. “...Well, I guess… it's not just when you know someone, but it’s when you want to keep learning everything there is to know about them, and when you want to share everything with them. Like, not only acknowledging their flaws and quirks, but appreciating them. It shouldn’t be forced or difficult, it should be easy and effortless - natural. It’s wanting to always be around them and be there for them. It’s not being able to get them out of your mind, not being able to see yourself without them, and always putting them before yourself. They should make you a better version of yourself, and you should bring out the best in them. It should feel like safety, and comfort, and home. Everyone else should fall away in comparison.”

Stiles’ eyes wandered away from the road ahead as she spoke, finding himself getting lost in her words. How could someone who’d never been in love describe it so…perfectly? There was an awe behind his honey-eyed gaze as he looked at her, and she felt a flutter in her stomach, tearing her own attention away from him and out to the world blurring past her window. “That’s what it’s like in the books and movies, anyway.” She cleared her throat.

“No,” He spoke softly after what seemed like a long silence.

“What?” Zaida frowned, confused by what he meant by saying that. Did he disagree with her assessment?

“No, I’ve never been in love.” Stiles clarified. What he felt for Lydia couldn’t be described by that. He did care about her, and he wanted her to give him a chance so that they could get to know each other better, but it wasn’t an effortless or natural connection. They didn’t have that bond that Zaida described at all. Really, it made him realise just how little substance there was between himself and the redhead. How could he be in love with her if he barely knew her or interacted with her? The conclusion he’d reached was that he couldn’t.

“Oh,” Zaida didn’t quite know where to go from that. Something made her heart beat faster at the knowledge that he wasn’t in love with Lydia. Luckily Stiles stepped in as if they hadn’t just fallen into a deep conversation so suddenly.

“Never have I ever dated a werewolf.” He grinned mischievously and she tilted her head.

“Hey, technically, we were dating before he got turned.” She defended, picking on the details to avoid having to hand over her candy.

“No cheating. You didn’t officially call it off until after you found out.” He pointed out and held his hand out expectantly, waiting for her to give him what he wanted. “And I want the purple one, just to be clear.”

“You don’t get to make requests,” She argued but gave him a purple snake anyway. “I have the power here, Stilinski. You remember that.”

Many ‘Never Have I Ever’s’ and small spats later, they were finally out of lollies. “That was the last one,” Zaida crumpled up the packet and shoved the rubbish into her bag to be disposed of when they pulled over at a petrol station for their next bathroom break. “What now?”

“More Celtic music?” Stiles turned to her with a sly smile and she flipped him off.

“Not a chance,” She shook her head fervently, not willing to go through that again. Her muscles were starting to get stiff from sitting in the same position for three hours, so she stretched out, twisting to crack her sore joints.

“Wanna play truth?” He suggested and she hummed positively in confirmation. “Okay, what’s a weird food that you love?”

“Vegimite on pancakes.” She pursed her lips in admittance and he gagged at simply hearing the combination. “Hey! If we’re going to play this there needs to be a zero judgement rule.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” He reeled himself in. “It's your turn.”

“If you suddenly won a million dollars, how would you spend it?” Zaida asked. She’d heard a lot of answers to that question - throw a legendary party, buy a mansion, buy an expensive car - but Stiles’ was not what she was expecting at all.

“I would hire people all around the world to get up in public and dance at the same time to Rick Astley’s ‘Never Gonna Give You Up’, simultaneously creating the world's largest flash mob and Rick-roll.” He replied without skipping a beat.

“What?” She choked on her own snort at the absurdity of his answer and the speed at which he’d generated it. “Okay, I take back the ‘no judgement’ rule.”

“Why, what would you do?” Stiles questioned.

“Probably put it into investment properties around the world that I’d then rent out.” She shrugged.

“Oh come on, that’s boring. Pick something better.” He encouraged.

“Okay…uh,” She thought of what else she’d blow that much money on if she had the chance. “Maybe I’d use it to travel around the world.”

“Where would you go?” Stiles prompted the girl.

“I’d go on a Europe tour - Greece, Italy, Rome, France. Then I’d go to England, Ireland, Scotland, Iceland…New Zealand. I’d see all of the ancient sites, the architecture, the natural wonders, the food…” She gushed, her mind travelling to all of the places she’d love to visit one day. Stiles watched that wonder in her eyes as she spoke about it.

“Now that’s a much better answer. Not as good as mine,” Stiles teased her and she rolled her eyes at him. “But still better.”

“You’re such a weirdo,” Zaida shook her head fondly, thinking of another question to continue their game. “What was your biggest childhood fear?”

“The dark,” He answered simply. “I had an overactive imagination and to my eyes, anything and everything looked like a monster in the dark. What was yours?”

“As a kid, I was obsessed with the ocean. Any shark movie you could name, I’d watched it. I had books upon books of the stuff and I was convinced I was going to be a marine biologist one day. Unfortunately, it also gave me this completely irrational fear that there would be a shark in literally every body of water. I could never swim past my height at the beach, or in pools with dark tiles, and I always had to check the toilet to make sure nothing would jump up and bite my ass off.”

“Oh yeah, and I’m the weird one.” He huffed in a chuckle and she opened her mouth to protest but he held up a finger to silence her. “Before you say anything, you revoked the ‘no judgement rule’, so that was fair game. Okay, what’s your most embarrassing moment?”

“There was this one time in sixth grade when our class went to a water park for an excursion. I was one of the only girls in sixth grade with boobs, and I’d forgotten to pack a bra to change into afterwards, so I just kept my swimmers on and put my top over it. I didn’t realise why everyone was pointing at me and whispering until a teacher came up to me and offered me a towel to cover myself. There were wet patches through my shirt just in two big circles on my chest. The girls spent the rest of the year teasing me and trying to get the boys to stare at my chest to make fun of me. Little did they know, the boys probably were looking for different reasons.” She shifted in her seat to face him, watching him in eagerness for his answer. “What’s yours?”

“How can I choose one?” Stiles recalled the multitude of mortifying memories. “Scott showing you that ‘Wannabe’ video has gotta be up there. Then there was that time Jackson pantsed me in the playground in front of like the entire class in fourth grade. Oh, and the time that I accidentally stapled my fingers together.”

“How do you accidentally…?” Zaida interjected but decided to let it go, brushing it off. “You know what, never mind.”

“What’s the largest amount of things you’ve ever collected?” Stiles moved on to the next question.

“Probably my coin collection now, but I had the hugest shell collection as a kid.” Zaida found herself smiling broadly as she recalled it. “Every year when we’d visit the beach house, I’d collect buckets of shells. There was nothing special about them. Most of them looked the exact same, I just thought they were pretty. Mom would always try and throw them out on the walk back to the house, but Dad would find me more. I’d make him dive for the really pretty ones in the water. He’d always come back with big twisty turbinate or scallop shells because they were my favourites. When I got older, my fascination with shells sort of dimmed, but Dad kept finding them for me and I never told him I’d lost interest.”

“It sounds like you made a lot of great memories there,” Stiles noted in a gentle tone.

“Yeah, we did. But my worst memory was also made there.” She pointed out, leaning her head against the window and staring at the buildings of San Jose that passed by.

“Zaida?” Stiles whispered as he gently shook her shoulder, trying to nudge her awake. The sound of his voice - combined with the silence now that the rumbling of the Jeep’s engine and the sound of the tires travelling over the road had ceased - roused her into consciousness. She hadn't even registered when she’d fallen asleep, but there was no doubt in her mind that they had arrived. The chirping of the birds and the sound of the sea crashing against the rocks and sifting through the sand was so familiar. It was as if no time had passed at all. With a start, she realised this had been exactly how she’d arrived last time. Only back then, Xander had been the one to wake her and she’d been covered with sand and saltwater residue. The eerie similarities made her anxiety rise as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched, her joints cracking and popping.

Zaida turned to pull her luggage out only to find that Stiles was already waiting for her at the front porch, carrying both of their bags. With a smile she pulled at the handle and opened the car door, slipping out until her feet hit the hard stone paving of the driveway. She made her way around the Jeep, taking in the front garden, full of trees, short grass and bushes. The brown brick facade of the house with the white-painted shutters and beams loomed over her dauntingly. She followed the stone paver path to the front porch. Her boots thudded lightly against the steps as she climbed them, facing that heavy white wooden door with square frosted glass panels. The same door that had haunted her nightmares for four years. Slipping her hand into her jacket pocket, she pulled out the keys she’d stolen from Xander’s room. They had been easy enough for her to find, hidden in that box at the back of his closet. Her hand was halfway to the lock when she froze, dread coiling in her stomach like a serpent about to strike.

“Do you want me to do it?” Stiles offered in a quiet tone, but she shook her head slightly, pushing forward to slide the golden key into the matching lock, hearing it click as she twisted it.

The door creaked slightly as it swung open on its hinges, the light streaming through half-opened shutters and giant windows to illuminate the space inside. It was a short corridor pretty much immediately opening up to the living, dining and kitchen areas. She stepped through hesitantly, stopping just before the dark grey couch that faced the flat-screen TV against the right wall. It was exactly where she’d stopped almost five years ago to the day, her snorkel and flippers clattering to the floor as a bloodcurdling scream filled her ears. Her scream. Her parents’ bodies had laid on the floor, right there beside the couch. Her mother’s body had been closer, collapsed in a twisted, mangled heap - she’d gone down swinging. Her father’s body had been a few paces behind, lying on his front with his head to the side, face torn open by claw marks - as though he’d been running to help. A choked sound escaped her throat, but her words got stuck halfway up.

There was nothing there now. The clean-up crew had done a good job. Not a single drop of red stained the brown-grey floorboards, where crimson had once run like a river. There was nothing left to suggest anything had happened here. Nothing but the scream trapped in Zaida’s throat and the pain twisting in her chest. As she inched closer, it was as though she could feel them, like the way you could sense someone as they stood behind you. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as goosebumps rippled across her skin and a sick nausea swirled within her stomach.

“It was right here,” She explained, swallowing that lump within her throat and forcing it back down. Last time she had made it only this far before Xander had come barging in, scooping her into his arms and hauling her back outside to sit on the front steps, shaking and crying until the police arrived. Xander wasn’t with her now, but Stiles was. The boy reached out, fingers brushed down the skin of her arm to her hand, where he entwined his fingers with hers in a reassuring gesture. Feeling his larger palm encasing hers was a grounding sensation, and it pulled her back from the edge she was about to slip over. She remained teetering just a few steps behind that cliff face, peering down into the dangerous and steep descent. That sensation that ghosted across the back of her neck spread all around her, intensifying. After a moment, it was as if they were right there…as if their blood-soaked faces were screaming at her once more, wailing about how she had caused this. Now she knew that not to be true, and blinked the image away from her mind’s eye. “I think I can feel them.” Her voice came out in a low and dry whisper.

“You’re okay. There’s no one here.” Stiles consoled her, giving her hand a squeeze. She knew he was right. There wasn’t anybody here - not now. But there had been, and the remnants of what had happened remained. It was as if the violence of the murder had imprinted itself upon the space around it, waiting for her to discover it. An echo of them grew louder and stronger, and the barriers within her mind crumpled a little bit at the brush of the familiar presence. In a way, it was comforting to feel them again, but that didn’t last long. A sharp pain bloomed across her face, and her free hand flew to her cheek.

“I can feel what happened to them, Stiles. I can feel what they were feeling.” She gasped audibly at the shock of the blow. Pushing past the physical pain, she felt their emotions. A palpable fear gnawed at her. “They were so scared, but not for themselves. For Xander and me.”

“You need to stop. Focus on your blocks,” Stiles urged her, drawing her away from the spot, retreating backwards into the open doorway. Zaida’s eyes were still glued to that unmarked place on the floor. “Hey! Zay, come on, you need to focus.”

But Zaida could barely hear him over the sound of white noise in her ears, and that growing sensation of panic - theirs, not hers - drove her heart rate upwards. Another slice of pain embedded itself deep within her abdomen. She could feel the sharp claws tugging on her organs as they ripped past, shredding the flesh messily.

“Zaida!” His faint voice broke through the blur. She only managed to disconnect when he physically tore her gaze away from that spot on the floor. Reality came rushing back in only for her to find that his hands were cradling her face, his amber eyes staring at her with worry etched into his creased brow. She only now realised that her chest was heaving and she was clutching her stomach, almost doubled over as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“We should…” She mumbled through laboured breathing as she struggled to calm her racing heart, wiping the moisture from her face hurriedly. “...Probably keep going.”

“Yeah, okay.” He nodded in agreement, watching her warily as he picked up the bags he’d dropped at the entrance, closing and locking the front door behind them.

She forced herself to step past that magnetizing force and further into the open living area. “Want a tour?” She asked, not waiting for his response. Her voice was still shaky as she pointed out all of the areas of the house, trying to distract herself. “The bathroom is right there behind you, and just through the right of the living room there, you’ll find a library space. The laundry is through the kitchen to the left, just beside the walk-in pantry. Just past the kitchen, there is the back patio, and those bi-fold doors in the dining area open up to a barbecue and fire-pit. Upstairs is this way.” Zaida turned to the left and walked past the dining table to where a staircase led upwards along the wall.

“Zaida…” Stiles tried to catch her attention, knowing that she was deflecting. Nevertheless, he followed along behind her and they cleared the top steps to find another open living area with double doors opening to a wrap-around balcony that faced the backyard and overlooked the beach through the trees.

“How many rooms are in this place?” Stiles gawked at the multiple shut doors and off-shooting corridor, his attention momentarily diverted. There was even a grand piano towards the back of the open area, with a pool table beside it.

“There are four bedrooms. The main room is straight ahead to the back of the house on the right. The one immediately at the front here is Xander’s. Next to it is the office,” Zaida led him down the corridor that ran between the office and the main bedroom. “There’s a spare room on the right, and the bathroom is on the left. If we turn right here…that’s my room all the way down the end.”

“Zaida…” Stiles tried once more to get her attention. The girl walked ahead to her bedroom, pushing open the door to reveal a spacious area with a bay window running along the left wall, bathing the room in orange light from the golden sunset. A queen-sized bed with floral-textured white sheets, flanked by two bedside tables lay straight ahead. The girl stood just within the doorway, staring at the place that held so many memories, transfixed by the items she hadn’t seen in five years. Stiles dropped the bags down on the floorboards beside the door, right next to an ornate golden coat stand. “Zay, do you wanna talk about it?” He asked in a tentative tone, gently reaching out to touch her shoulder, breaking her out of her trance.

“I…” She cut herself off with a sniffle, her hand flying to wipe her red nose and teary eyes as she struggled to keep herself together. “It’s really hard being back here, especially because it all happened just downstairs. I already knew what they went through and that was bad enough, but feeling it…it’s different. It makes it more real, in a way.”

“You’re allowed to cry, you know?” He told her, taking her hand once more and leading her over to sit on her bed. “No one here is going to judge you. Except maybe me,” He jested.

“Everything here reminds me of them. There are memories everywhere in this house.” Zaida yielded, stretching across the mattress to lay on her side and rest her head in his lap. The boy stilled beneath her for a moment, likely surprised by her actions. Or possibly uncomfortable, she realised with a pause. Truthfully she hadn’t really thought about it, but now she was second-guessing herself. For some reason, it had just felt normal to do so, but now that she thought about it, it was a relatively strange boundary to cross. She was about to get back up when he finally relaxed, fingers coming up to brush loose tendrils of her hair out of her eyes.

“Tell me about them.” Stiles requested, and so she did. She told him all about the dent in the hallway beside the bathroom door, where she’d thrown a hardcover copy of ‘The Goblet of Fire’ at Xander as he fled after waking her up one morning. She told him about the scratch in the stairs where she’d dropped her favourite snow globe, and it had smashed everywhere. The replacement her father had bought her still stood proudly on her dresser that they both were facing. She spoke about the countless times they’d roasted marshmallows in the fireplace of the upstairs living area, and the early mornings they would spend feeding the Western Scrub Jays, finches, and sparrows seeds and fruits from the upstairs balcony. She talked through memory after memory, until the reason why they were truly there seemed to fade away into non-importance. She harped on and on until her voice grew hoarse and her eyelids grew heavy, the room growing dark around them as the sun dipped lower and lower. The repetitive patterns of Stiles’ hand brushing up and down her arm soothed her into a deep sleep she didn’t even realise she was falling into until…

[skyloftsword]

Sixth Playthrough of Tears of the Kingdom Done, Have my Thoughts Changed?

Short answer: NOPE. I still don't see how the entire package is bad. Every game ever has flaws, EVEN your precious Breath of the Wild was very flawed. This is still my favorite game ever and I do really like BotW a lot. Story is for the most part really great, excellent soundtrack, gameplay is incredible, wonderful cast of characters.

Long Answer (SPOILERS):

Okay so, when I first played this game, it made me look back at Breath of the Wild and feel kinda disappointed with that game. Breath of the Wild kinda didn't feel anywhere near as focused as this game does (ironic considering most people have been saying the opposite).

The Dragon's Tear quest actually was really connected and told a really, really interesting story that got me invested in the characters. The order should have been forced, HOWEVER, Impa notes that the order of the memories is on the wall in the room of the Forgotten Temple. The Regional Phenomena stuff is what the Divine Beast quests should have been. Only one Divine Beast quest had anything going on before the battle, all four regions have stuff going on in them with the Regional Phenomena. Not to mention the regions are actively being affected by the events of the phenomena going on, with the Zora being injured by sludge, the Rito being starved, the Gerudo being invaded by zombi- I mean Gibdos and the Gorons being mind controlled by Ganondorf's puppet. The Puppet Zelda quest could have been handled a lot better, however I have read people's posts about why Link didn't tell anyone about it and I choose to believe that (because a lot of this game is based around theory crafting, like Josha for example, she's all about making theories of the past). Purah not commenting on you having the Master Sword until AFTER you finish the Crisis at Hyrule Castle quest is extremely awkward, especially if you have it on your back. The Ring Ruins quest is also really good, needing to explore the Zonai Ruins to find clothes from the era of the Zonai. Mineru (my beloved)'s quest is genuinely incredible. Building a construct then being able to drive her around is such an amazing idea.

The cast of characters in this game is filled with really great characters. Yes, the ancient Sages are literal WHO? HOWEVER, outside of them, Impa and the Deku Tree, the rest of the cast is really great. Rauru's character arc is my favorite in the series, topping Groose's for me. Sonia is also a really charming character. Both of them are the parents that this Zelda deserved. Such excellent parents. Mineru's my favorite of the cast solely because I can relate to having VERY unhealthy hyperfixation and work issues. Tulin's a really fun character to be around. Sidon's arc is really, really good in this game and the fact that they tied it back to Mipha's death from the Calamity helps the ties between the games become even stronger. Yunobo went from a bottom-tier character to a very solid character for me in this game (partially because he wasn't associated with Scrapper Eldin quest 2.0 this time). Riju is an excellent leader for the Gerudo, willing to put herself in danger for her people. Purah is a bit awkward in terms of writing but she's still good (and thankfully not tied to a backtracking quest this time).

The music REALLY helps make this game's story stand out compared to every other Zelda game story (besides MAYBE Skyward Sword's). Remember His Name is such a powerful and emotional version of Link's theme. The theme from the final Dragon's Tear is what makes me shed a tear every playthrough. Seized Construct's theme helps make that fight hit harder since its a corrupted version of Mineru's theme. Hyrule Castle's theme is more somber than BotW's, which is fitting. The transition themes between the Sky -> Surface and the Surface -> Depths really help make diving feel even more satisfying. Each Sage's theme fits their personality perfectly.

The gameplay in this game is genuinely perfect. The dungeons (hot take) are extremely fun to do, every time I do them I learn a new method for at least one of their puzzles. The Shrines are FAR better in this game than they were in BotW. The Proving Grounds Shrines feel more like a test than BotW's Tests of Strength. HOWEVER, they, for whatever reason, decided to make MORE combat tutorial Shrines. Now for abilities... Ultrahand and Fuse are SUPER fun to toy around with. Ascend ruined gaming for me because I'm so addicted to using it. Recall is crazy and its incredible how they got it to work as perfectly as they did (also great way to reach the Sky Islands).

Now onto the new environments in this game. The Sky Islands are beautiful. While they aren't for the most part visually distinct, a LOT of them are extremely unique. Lightcast Island is especially a really fun island. Thunderhead Isles and Dragonhead Island are amazing as well. Dragonhead's theme is one of my favorite ambient themes ever, its so calming. The Depths is really fun to run around in, except when you run into a pile of Gloom, that really sucks. Construct Factory and Spirit Temple are literal perfection. Fire Temple is also such a really cool dungeon.

Alright, now that I'm done, did my opinion on this game change after my sixth playthrough? ...No. This game is still absolutely incredible and a masterpiece of a game. No matter how much I get harassed (which I have been harassed multiple times over this), my opinion still remains the same on this game. Yes it has its issues, yes I think there are aspects that could be very much improved, but I feel this way with literally every game ever. Thank you for reading my rambling, have a good day.

[differentlyweird]

Head cannons for college Peter/ Post NWH because I can’t stop thinking about that movie

*

*

*SPOILERS FOR NO WAY HOME READ AT YOUR OWN RISK*

*

*

*

*

• We know that Peter is in the process of taking his GED test. I think we need to backtrack a little bit to fill in some gaps.

• In order to be able to take his GED or SAT/ACT etc. he would have to be an actual existing citizen. Because right now he doesn’t technically exist.

• My theory is that Aunt May kept copies of everything. From school records to his birth certificate,etc. I say this because Peter had to have gotten his stuff from somewhere so obviously May’s things would be there too.

• Now knowing May she knew that some shit would likely go down which is why she kept all the paperwork he would need on a flash drive . She gives a copy to Happy, and puts another flash drive in Peters Lego Death Star set

• Of course peter wouldn’t know but May has been preparing for something like this since she found out her nephew is spider man. If there’s one thing May Parker always made sure of it was that her boy was taken care of

• So one day while playing with said Lego Death star set. He notices a small flash drive attached to the bottom he pops it into his laptop (it’s manages to survive over the years) suddenly he sees May’s face for the first time since her death

• “ I really hope this thing is working, I mean stark made a shit ton of money off of his tech so it should.” “Peter honey if you’re seeing this it means that I’m not with you and you’ve had to leave. I want you to know that no matter what happens I will always be proud of you and I know that you will do great things because no one has a heart as big as yours. On this flash drive you’ll find digital copies of every medical,school,and government record that has your name on it. I know this isn’t that much help but I figured you might need it someday to remember that behind spider man is Peter Parker, and Peter needs to be remembered too. I hope you continue to use your power for good and remember I will always Larb you”

• Peter couldn’t believe what he was seeing, through his tears he heard her say “shit, the lasagna!” As the video cut off.

• He thanked whomever above for giving him his amazing aunt May and got to work the next day re establishing himself as an existing human

• It wasn’t easy by any stretch but eventually with the documents he was able to register for his GED, SAT and ACT. Studying between working his two jobs at Delmar’s and tutoring chemistry.

• He was able to pass all 3 with flying colors and enrolled himself into Queensborough community college. Juggling that along with his two jobs and spider man duties.

• He makes a lot of new acquaintances some who reminded him of the people he loved in his old life. His lab partner Eric reminds him of Ned with his over enthusiasm and rambling.

• The girl who works the front desk at the library reminds him of Michelle in the way that she helps him find what he’s looking for even if he doesn’t ask because she “can’t stand to look at him floundering around like a fish out of water.”

• Eventually he graduates from community college and decides to attend Queens college where he majors in Engineering technology.

•  After he graduates from undergrad he decides to take a bit of a break before starting his Masters program

• The Christmas after graduation he sees Ned,MJ, and Flash?for the first time since his memory was wiped from the earth

• It’s Been 4 1/2 years since he last saw them,and as much as he wants to he doesn’t go up and start a conversation. He knows that he made the right decision back then because both of them look happy and accomplished. They look at peace, a peace that wouldn’t exist if he told them the truth.

•  That was until he started to see them every week in the same diner. He would use the diner to study, the Masters program was a lot more rigorous than he thought.

• Eventually they started to make conversation with him noticing that he was there as much as they were. This sent Peter into a spiral, he had spent so long rebuilding his life without them that being around them was both a great joy,and a great pain.

• After much deliberation he decided that there was no harm in being casual friends with them. He even starts to look forward to their coffee dates every week.

• He learned that Ned landed a job at stark industries. As head of the AI science division

• Michelle was currently working for the largest independent newspaper in all of New York and was head of their queens office.

• Even Flash had grown up and decided to become a teacher. Specifically he was asked to take over Mr. Harrington‘s job at Midtown. Apparently losing one too many kids finally took its toll

• eventually one day after about four months of this casual friendship going on between them, they finally decided to confront Peter.

• “We know you’re not telling us the whole truth about something you know.” Said MJ with a deep stare that penetrated his soul. “Yeah Parker there’s more that meets the eye, we will figure it out you know.” Said flash.

• Ned the great person that he is finally intervenes “What they’re trying to say is that we think you’re pretty cool and we would like to know our new friend better I mean after all I think I speak for all of us when I say being around you gives us major Deja vu”

• Peter doesn’t know how to handle this so after everything he just laughs. He laughs at the absurdity of it all, laughs at how far he’s come since becoming spider man, where he ended up, all of it.

•After a few minutes he finally calms down and says “I get Deja Vu too, I can’t exactly tell you why but I can say that I’m really glad to have you guys in my life. After all the crazy things the world has been through can’t we just appreciate that?”

•The group seems to let it go after that agreeing that given the world they live in. Where they are now is pretty good.

• As everyone leaves the coffee shop, promising to meet the same time next week MJ calls out to him as he’s walking away

• “I’m 67% sure you’re hiding something big Peter, I hope you know I’ll figure it out eventually.”

• Peter laughs as he calls back “I counting on it MJ”

•She did figure it out eventually, and when she did she punched him then she hugged him



[creativeashproductions]

Proceed With Caution // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: The reader doesn’t expect to become involved in a hostage situation with her fiance’s older sister, the older sister’s best friend and the best friend’s date from hell. With the addition of a SWAT member, how will the taking of dispatch change?

Warnings: Swearing, blood, threats, angst, guns, hostage/kidnapping

Words: 5.9k

A/N: Recently got into the tv show 9-1-1 and completely fell in love with Buck so here I am writing for him as well. This takes place during the season three episode ‘The Taking of Dispatch 9-1-1’. Reader and Buck are already in an established relationship.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

The apartment was quiet as the sound of your keys clattered in the bowl on the countertop. It was pretty early in the morning, so you had no doubts that Buck would be just waking up. On his days off, he would use the first day to catch up on sleep; based on prior times, he would be up in half an hour.

“Buck?” You called out from the kitchen. You heard a groan from the loft where Buck was in the process of waking up, “I forgot to drop off that book Maddie wants to borrow. When I get back, do you want to get breakfast?”

A grumble you somehow translated to approval was what you received in response. You jogged up the stairs to the loft to grab the book from your bookshelf. Buck’s bare leg stretched out from underneath the comforter on your side. The soft sighs Buck made in his sleepy state tugged at your heart; the sighs grew louder when you bent to kiss his head.

“See you in a bit.” You whispered to the sleepy soft male. He sleepily grinned in response before curling into your pillow.

The sound of your footsteps softened on the steps back to the main level of the apartment. Your keys snagged from the bowl before you gently closed the door behind you. The sun was gorgeous to be awake to see and had Buck not worked a long shift, you’d have adored watching it with him.

Your car pulled out of the parking spot in the Los Angeles Service Center’s direction that Maddie worked at. Your lips quirked as the radio spewed out the station that Christopher listened to in the car. You could even pick up the book in the backseat where he called his spot. The book could be found in Buck’s Jeep as well.

It had maybe three days since you’d seen the young Diaz, and damn did you miss the kid. Christopher has his enigmatic quality that demanded you love him for all that made him simply Christopher. The second you’d met him, you knew he would mean a lot to you.

You hummed in time with the song that was currently Christopher’s absolute favourite. Slowly you went from humming to singing along when the light turned green. A handful of songs came and went on the admittedly long drive due to traffic.

It was about forty minutes after leaving your apartment that you parked next to Maddie’s car in the parking lot. Lucy was sitting at the front office with a grin you matched. The woman buzzed you before she clocked out with her reprieve Jake.

“Hey, Sue!” You grinned at the older redhead. Sue had absolutely no problem seeing you, given that you were welcome in the building.

Sue’s first interaction was when you came to the centre to pick up Maddie when she came to work sick. Maddie had managed to keep it under wraps for an hour before Sue caught on. Ever since, Sue was fond of asking Maddie about her brother and you.

“Maddie’s not in just yet.” Sue spoke with a kind smile, “If you’ll excuse me, I have to meet with one of our sit alongs.”

You nodded towards her while beelining for the woman’s bathroom, hoping to catch Maddie after using it. You’d drank too much water on your run earlier this morning. Whether it was fortunate or unfortunate in the time you’d entered the bathroom, several things happened. Lucy ended her shift, Jake started his shift, and a group of strangers entered the building.

Your hand went to push open the door when through the crack, you saw two men you’d never seen before. Years of your job gave you enough feeling to know that something wasn’t right. That being said, you eased the door closed and attempted to find a hiding spot.

The garbage was too narrow and had no lid. The few seconds you had left, you glanced up. The ceiling hadn’t been renovated in many years. Rectangular sheets could be raised. Thankful of the rock climbing lessons you’d done with Maddie, you managed to crawl into the ceiling just as the two men entered.

“Nobody’s here.” The one-man with his head as pale and shiny as a cue ball. He gave off the most creepy vibe; the shorter Hispanic man wasn’t as violent looking, “Kinda hoping someone tries something. I’ve wanted to try out this.”

The man waved the large gun in his hand with a sick smile that twisted your stomach. That was the moment you’d realized something was very wrong. The second they left, you gently dropped back on the ground. Your first instinct was to send a message to Athena, but there was a fatal flaw. You’d expected to be in and out of the building quickly, so you’d left your phone in the car.

“Fuck.” You swore. One hand roughly running over your forehead as you contemplated figuring out a plan.

The building had many cameras throughout that you knew the blindspots for. The year after high school and during the summers, you’d worked in the building. Despite having worked here when you were younger, it was never during Sue’s shift. Over the years, you’d come to know the blind spots and a few cameras that were decoys. You even remembered Maddie and her friend Josh complaining about three cameras not fixed yet.

“Think.” You breathed, making a pattern of pacing, “They’ll need a lookout. They’ll take out the security guard first. The front doors are out. It’s a team, so they’ll also need eyes on the building. Terry is definitely a hostage.”

Of course, you’d end up in a volatile situation during the first half of your day before your shift started. The only comforting thing about the situation was the holstered gun on your hip and the badge on your belt. Maybe you should backtrack to why you had a gun and badge; you were an LAPD member, specifically SWAT.

“The changeroom.” You breathed, recalling it was down the hall with no camera. All you needed to do was pretend to be a dispatcher. The changeroom, now mostly a file room, had a few extra maroon and blue uniform shirts.

You timed it. The man holding Sue’s tablet was in the process of talking with his cohort, so you dashed to the room. You took no time in changing into a loose maroon shirt with your thick sweater overtop to hide the gun in the small of your back.

Your holster, badge and personal shirt tucked in the bottom of a box for safekeeping. As soon as you saw your entry, you sat with the group of hostages a hall over. A few looked surprised but let it go when you raised one finger to your lips.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Maddie hissed from the other side of a startled Josh. Both of them were surprised at seeing you here, “Oh my god. Buck is going to kill me.”

“I was dropping off your book before I get breakfast with Buck, but it appears my small bladder saved my life.” You snarked with your eyes scanning the room, “What’s going on?”

“That is my date from hell, Greg.” Josh inconspicuously pointed towards the man, clearly giving orders. The anger flared inside you, “You need to get out.”

“Josh, no offence, but I’m an officer with the LAPD. I work with SWAT. I’m your best bet of making it out alive.” You informed the dispatch duo, who went still as Cue Ball patrolled the hallway with a sadistic glint in his eyes.

“They took control of the building for a reason we don’t know about. We’re still working but under strict monitoring. They said it will be an hour, but we’ve seen their faces.”

“No witnesses.” You finished for Maddie with a deep sigh, “Unfortunately I left my phone in the car. Did they take yours-”

“They took Linda’s EpiPen. Of course, we don’t have phones.” Maddie sighed, leaning back to rest her head against the wall. Not even having a SWAT member by her side was comforting; your badge put a more significant target on you.

“We have to warn someone.” Josh mumbled to both Maddie and you, “You’re on shift Y/N?”

“Not for a few hours. I was supposed to drop off the book and get breakfast with Buck before my shift. This was supposed to be five minutes tops, so I left my phone in my car.”

“I already did.” Maddie spoke with a sad look on her face that overtook the fear, “I just hope he gets the message.”

Your hand reached out to squeeze the woman you’d had a hand in raising Buck more than their parents. Maddie had become family when you first started dating Buck. The in-law part of her familial relationship to you never crossed your minds; you were simply sisters to each other.

“Who?”

“Chim. I told him I loved him.” Maddie finished with a teary gaze. It made you sick seeing that look again after Doug.

You remembered seeing that haunted look when she stumbled out of the thicker woods covered in blood. You’d stayed by Athena’s side when Buck clutched her so tight and sobbed with her. It had been before you’d become serious with the man, but it was that frightening day that Buck fell for you. You’d just finished a taxing shift with your team when you heard about Maddie was missing, and Chim was in the hospital. You’d ignored the exhaustion to search high and low through your work contacts before narrowing the search area.

“Good thing Chimney obsesses over the little things.” You spoke, slouching down against the wall, “We’ll get throu-”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Maddie warned you with her brows furrowed together, and you saw what she was doing. Despite your years of experience and the gun you had, she pushed her fear down behind the concern that a big sister shows her young siblings.

“I won’t.”

At 8am, Buck was just entering the apartment building from grabbing the mail addressed to both you and him when Chim had called.

“Yup, go for Buck.” Buck spoke, opening the door to the apartment he’d only temporarily left. His morning had been late after his long shift the night before. The most productive thing was dressing for his breakfast date with you and grabbing the mail.

“How come 9-1-1 doesn’t respond when I call?” Chimney questioned the younger, now confused male.

“Uh, is that some kind of riddle? Like who watches the watchmen?” Buck asked, closing the door behind him. His eyes scanned around for any indication you’d returned home, but the bowl was vacant of your keys.

“Neither of those things are riddles. Okay, I just tried calling 9-1-1, and I got the high call volume message. Did I miss an earthquake or something?”

“Nope, pretty chill morning.” Buck responded as he closed the fridge door with a bottle of water in hand. The entire conversation wasn’t concerning to him, given that Chimney was often like this.

“Where’s Y/N? She’s the police she’ll know-”

“She’s not home right now. Wait, why are you calling 9-1-1? Is everything okay?” Buck slowly asked with his brows coming together. The sigh of frustration from Chimney was answer enough.

“Your sister said that she loved me.”

“Yeah. Wasn’t that uh, the whole point in that big date you had last night?” Buck inquired on his way to the table. He had a feeling this was going to be a long conversation that would hopefully pass the time until you got home.

“You declare your love, and she declares hers? That’s how it went with Y/N and me.”

“Yeah, I know, okay, but she didn’t, all right? At least not last night. Look, she made this big deal saying that she couldn’t say those words, and then this morning, she blurts them out and hangs up on me.” Chimney speaks, pacing in his own apartment. The side by the side of Chimney and Buck’s separate apartments told different tales of their states.

“It’s still not quite sounding like an emergency.”

“’Cause I sound insane.” Chimney spoke, staring up at the ceiling with a battle in his mind. He wants Buck to talk him out of this, but he also wants Buck to agree with him, “She’s at the call centre. What could happen there? You know what, forget it, I’ll try Y/N again.”

“Again?” Buck questioned just as his co-worker ended the call. Buck tugged his phone away from his ear to stare at it confused.

You always answered the phone if you weren’t working at the moment, but given you still had hours, he found it unsettling. After seeing the news report with the ladder truck on top of him, calls weren’t ignored between you two. That feeling of concern grew when you didn’t answer his call either. Nor the second one.

“Nah, she’s probably talking with Maddie.” Buck spoke, but that second-guessing feeling didn’t dissipate. 

In the call centre, you’d been marched to one of the stations with a deep hope that you’d remember everything. It had been years by then since you’d worked as a dispatcher. It didn’t help with the gunmen patrolling the room.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” You calmly questioned the caller.

“Hi, my cat is up the tree by my house. Could you send someone?”

“Can I get your name?” You went through the motions of getting her name and address before you informed the woman, “Okay, the LAFD and LAPD no longer respond to calls of cats in trees. The cat will make its way down on its own. If the tree is in your backyard, I’d use the time to garden or read a book on this beautiful day.”

“Oh, thank you. I’m sorry for taking up your time.”

“It’s no problem. Having a wonderful day Susan.”

In no time at all, you’d been rotated into the board room away from Josh and Maddie. It gave you time to inspect everyone you hadn’t made contact with yet. No one appeared harmed other than in distress with the situation.

“Downtown. They don’t want anyone downtown.” Linda whispered as Maddie was guided onto the floor by the elbow. You’d only gathered her name from her near-silent introduction to you when the hired guns had been far from your area.

“Let’s go.” Greg snapped, roughly pushing you towards the conference room. Something deep in your gut already predicted that someone was going to be stupid.

It was your sharp eyesight catching the minuscule agitation in Greg’s interactions with the Cue Ball guy. The slight tightening of his grip on the gun, the tension in the room growing stifling. And everyone knows that when emotions run high stupid things happen.

“Why do they keep moving us around like this?” The man beside Maddie questioned. He was definitely the most shaken of the group. He was basically shaking like a chihuahua.

“To disorient us.” Maddie spoke, staring at the group monitoring the dispatchers currently in play. Her eyes refused to leave them.

“So, we can’t make a plan.” You finished for your sister-in-law. Objectively out of everyone, Maddie, Sue and you were the most collected individuals for various reasons.

Maddie had lived in a volatile house with a man that could be unpredictable if a situation called for it in his mind. Sue had been working in the centre for years to navigate the emergency while you walked into dangerous situations.

“Jamal.” The shaking man spoke, holding his hand out towards you, “Are you new?”

“No.” You spoke as you shook his hand, “I’m Y/N. Maddie’s sister-in-law. I’m filling in as a favour for Sue.”

The lie slipped off your lips a little too quickly. You decided to come to this hostage situation as if you were undercover. It meant having to ignore that Maddie was in the situation with you.  

“Worst day for a favour.” Jamal snorted with his eyes pinned on one of the armed men holding all your lives in their hands. You’d have spoken, but Jamal checked out mentally from the conversation waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The shoe dropped when the IT Specialist announced numbly, “Jake’s dead. They shot him.”

It didn’t matter how long you’d been working for the LAPD, any death, whether it was a civilian or a criminal, it was still was startling. Jake, the security guard that alternated shifts with Lucy, wasn’t someone you spoke with. He was on shift when you weren’t here or just missed the shift change.

“We need to get a message out.” Jamal spoke, glancing at the only people in the right state of mind, and those were Maddie, Josh and you. Terry had seen the violence these men had no issues with.

“I did.” Josh breathed, thinking of the arguably cute security guard he sometimes liked to stare at, “A woman called about onions in an omelette. I dispatched an officer.”

“To the restaurant?” Maddie inquired with her pinkie connected with yours for comfort. Both of you would prefer your SO’s hand instead.

“Not exactly.” Josh replied, staring at his best friend with a glimpse of hope in his brown eyes.

Hope may be the only way you could get out of this without hurting anyone in your admittedly surface level plan.

“Buck will think something is up.” You added 

Buck had begun pacing the kitchen of the apartment with Chim adamantly telling his friend his plan to go to the centre. Buck had joined Chimney in the concerned department when you had failed to return to the apartment, return calls and to make matters worse, so was Maddie. His texts had gone unanswered as well, not even having the read receipt on.

“She’s not picking up either. I tried Y/N and Josh, but neither replied. When I tried Maddie and Josh, it went straight to voicemail.”

“Now, I’m definitely going.” Chimney announced, shoving his wallet into his pocket just as someone began knocking on his door.

“What if something is wrong? I know Y/N is a member of SWAT but radio silence? No text to let me know she was called in early?” Buck thought aloud with his finger dragging along his thigh, “Maybe we should call the police.”

“I...think someone already did.” Chimney informed Buck as he stared at the sudden appearance of Sergeant Athena Grant at his door.

“What? What do you mean?” Buck hastily questioned, leaning against the kitchen island. He could just faintly hear Athena speaking on Chimney’s end of the phone, “Chimney? What’s going on?”

“Athena was sent to my apartment. Hang on, Buck, I’m just gonna tell Athena what’s going on.”

Buck stepped away from the island to settle on the stairs to the loft, impatiently waiting for Chimney to finish speaking. That fear of losing pieces of his life expanded deep in his gut, just like the times Maddie left in his childhood. That fear of being left behind.

“What’s she’s saying now?”

“She’s making her case.” Chim whispered as he continued to eavesdrop on Athena’s call with her higher-ups, “Now she’s folding like a cheap suit.”

“All right, let me talk to Athena.” Buck demanded antsy to figure out the situation that clearly had something wrong. That fear he’d thought of early flared catching the tail end of Athena’s conversation, “No! No, no. We can’t just send in SWAT. If there is someone inside the call centre doing something, they’ll know we’re onto them.”

Unfortunately, Buck was correct in this thought process, all thanks to living with a SWAT member. He knew these things after the years he’d been with you.

“Maddie? I think I can sneak up to Terry’s computer. Maybe get eyes on the place-”

“No!” Terry nearly shouted, stiffening when Cue Ball hesitated in the doorway at his sudden shouts. You all held your breath for his reaction, but thankfully he was called away by one of the men, “They have-”

“Terry, I need you to calm down. I’m familiar with these types of situations. I’m SWAT. I need to get on top of this. Don’t be a hero.”

Maddie’s head began to shake when your arm was roughly grabbed by Greg, “Your turn.”

You were separated from Josh and Maddie, but instead of being pushed into one of the dispatcher seats, you were pulled to the original hallway.

“I don’t like how friendly you are with them.” Greg spat, shoving you to rest against the wall, “Don’t move.” 

You catch the eyes of Maddie with an apologetic expression before you used the pacing routine to sneak away. You didn’t release your breath until you were attaching your holder to your hip in the change room. By now, your team would be aware that something was wrong, Hondo would be hell-bent on finding you.

Until you had help, you were on your own.

You used each blindspot of the cameras in the halls to the stairwell, and you used a broom to adjust the cameras. The cameras not kept you from view but not appearing suspicious. Once at the floor where Terry was practically always at you softly closed the door. 

You’d only started to sit down when you heard the ding of the elevator, “Shit.”

You slipped into the closest containing extra parts if anything broke. Through the crack, you saw Terry being held at gunpoint. The gunman that had been holding the tablet on the floor, Ellis as you’d heard.

“You’re telling me every cop in the city has just disappeared?” Ellis demanded as Terry, and he disappeared around one of the corners. The tapping of a screen indicating Ellis was searching for something with Terry’s involuntary help.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know!” Terry snapped back, creating even more tension in the room, but Ellis didn’t move to grab his gun.

Ellis appeared to the only one reluctant to discharge your weapon, unlike Cue Ball, who just happened to join the party.

“Figure it out!” Ellis spat, turning on his heel at the sound of approaching footsteps. You could see him roll his eyes at his team member walking into the room.

“What’s going on here?” Cue ball questioned the duo in different kinds of distress, and you swore Cue Ball enjoyed the intimidation from his teammate and the IT specialist.

“That police car’s not the only one that’s gone dark.” Ellis nervously spoke, stiffening for the volatile reaction that one could expect from Foster.

“You think they know we’re here?” 

“Foster, it could be a system glitch.” Ellis offered keeping one eye on Cue Ball while monitoring Terry’s work as well.

Cue Ball spoke a sentence that sent chills up your spine, “Time to cut our losses.”

As Foster and Ellis began going over their personal plans made out of Greg’s knowledge, you noticed Terry glance over. His eyes widened slightly before quickly looking away when you raised a finger across your lips.

“We can go down the back stairs. I have a car waiting around the corner, we split the art up between the five of us, and we go our separate ways.” Foster spoke, revealing his plan to double-cross Greg, which in all honesty made sense. Greg was ill-fitting to be in charge of their operation, unable to control his lackeys.

“I like that part of the deal.” Ellis breathed, skirting around the trigger happy criminal only to halt in his steps, “Wait, you’ve got a car parked down the street? You were always gonna double-cross Greg.”

“You weren’t?”

“If we’re gonna do this, you can’t just sell famous works of art on eBay.”

“You can’t sell them from prison either.”

At that moment, something almost shifted in the area, something that made you pull your gun from your holster. Your body telling you something was about to happen. It happened in a split second. Foster fled the room leaving only Ellis just outside. With Terry frantically shaking his head, you tiptoed to the unsuspecting criminal.

“LAPD!” You shouted, pointing your gun towards the shocked man, “Put the gun down and put your hands up.”

“Aren’t you a dispatcher?” Ellis questioned, blinking in surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to be intelligent? Next time check the schedule I haven’t worked here in years.” You spat, keeping your gun pointed on him, “Do I say-”

The sound of two guns going off made Terry flinch and scream as he instinctively dropped to the ground. IT was supposed to be safe, but Terry had now heard three gunshots in under two hours. He really didn’t want to see the outcome of the shots.

A moan coaxed Terry to peek out through the privacy glass. Ellis was on the ground while you kept your gun on him. He didn’t see anything else when the power went out. He didn’t see you drop to your knees, but he heard you.

“Terry...get down. Lay on your stomach with your hands insight, and don’t move.” You informed the terrified IT just as the floor was swarmed.

“Put the gun down!” The sound of Tan’s voice was welcoming as you slowly placed the gun on the ground. “25-David I have Y/L/N. The suspect is down, need medical.”

You got back to your feet when Tan nodded his head, “Thank god. There’s a possible body in the IT room along with the It Specialist Terry.”

“You got your badge on you?” Tan questioned as he cuffed the moaning Ellis up, “Street can you escort her down?”

Street nodded from his position, watching Tan’s back before guiding you to the stairs with hawk eyes. Even off duty, you kept your head on a swivel.

“You caused quite the commotion.” Street spoke halfway down the stairs when you barely mumbled. He caught you as you went down like a sack of potatoes, “Y/N!”

“Adrenaline is crashing.” You moaned, looking at your shoulder where the maroon had grown darker, “I think he shot me.”

“26-David I’m in the stairway. Prepare a medic.” Street spoke into his radio before he strapped the gun away and swept you into his arms, “Think you can have my back?”

“When don’t I?” You wheezed, with the sweat starting to bead on your forehead. As you crashed from adrenaline, you barely noticed being placed on the ground at the main entrance.

A paramedic cutting your borrowed shirt to reveal the bullet hole in your shoulder courtesy of Ellis, the only member who’d thought wouldn’t shoot his gun. You could vaguely hear Maddie calling out your name as you were loaded onto a gurney.

“M-Maddie?” You spoke, tilting your head to see Chris holding Maddie back from, “Chris! That’s my sister in law.”

Chris only let Maddie go when Hondo gave the all-clear, and you were so thankful when Maddie’s hand encased yours.

“Don’t close your eyes.” Maddie pleaded sick with the amount of blood on your skin and soaking through the gauze, “Who’s gonna help me put up with my little brother?”

“Buck.” You breathed sluggishly, blinking as the artificial lights changed to natural with the gun shining through the glass front doors.

“You didn’t let me close mine in that ambulance, so I need you to do the same. Don’t close them. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.” Maddie cried as an officer pulled her aside as you were stopped. You wouldn’t remember it, but Maddie had to watch as you coded right in front of her.

Maddie had to watch them perform CPR on you and fight for a pulse. She had to think of how’d she’d tell her little brother she’d killed his fiance. The counting of the paramedics sounded as if underwater, and as they did, the world went quiet. Her mind checked out as the trauma settled in.

Maddie stumbled out of the building into a zoo of officers, medics, and news reporters almost robotically. She barely felt Chimney hug her, but she wrapped her arms around him and sobbed.

“It’s all my fault.” Maddie gasped, collapsing against him, “If I had-”

“Maddie?”

Chimney felt Maddie stiffen at the sound of Buck’s voice amidst the multiple voices milling around. Maddie raised her gaze to meet Buck’s blue eyes dripping in relief and question.

“Buck.”

“Maddie, where’s Y/N? Her car…” Buck trailed off, catching the utter heartbreak in his big sister’s eyes. A look he’d come to know in his line of work as a firefighter. The utter devastation that came with watching someone you love die, “No. No.”

“I got a pulse!” Came from the nearest ambulance, and Buck skirted around his sister and Chimney, “Ready to transport!” 

Your eyes slowly blinked at the white ceiling of the ambulance with pain in your midsection courtesy of chest compressions. Breathing came painful, and the bullet wound throbbed, but it all faded when you saw blue eyes above you.

“Buck.” You sobbed, more like groaned, as he was urged to sit on the bench holding your hand, “Maddie?”

“She’s okay. Chim’s got her. Can you keep your eyes on me? I need to see those big beautiful e/c eyes.” Buck soothed, bringing your hand to his lips, “Did I ever tell you my favourite colour?”

Despite Buck’s best attempts, you continued fading in and out of consciousness but continued to be stable. He spoke about the funny video Eddie had shown him of Christopher at the end of their shift last night. He talked about everything and anything under the sun during the short ride to the hospital.

The last thing you saw was Buck being held back as the paramedics pushed the gurney into the ER. Everything turned black.

The beeping was the first thing you heard before your eyes fluttered open to a stark white room and that unmistakable hospital scent. You noticed the second thing as Buck holding your hand in both of his with his forehead pressed against them.

“Buck?” You moaned to the one person you had wished to see. The man whose eyes were bloodshot from crying, “What’s wrong?”

“Your heart stopped beating twice. I thought I was gonna lose you.” Buck cried with his lips pressed against your hand, “I was so worried.”

“Hey. I’m fine. I’m here.” You cooed, tugging one hand away to run through his messy hair with a soft smile. His blue eyes brighten at the familiar feeling of your digits in his hair, “I’m not going anywhere. This isn’t here for decoration.”

His eyes found the ring he’d gently placed back on your finger from when the nurses had removed it. It only left your finger when you were on duty, in which it was slung on a necklace hidden under your uniform.

“Better not be.”

“Does the hospital have a chapel?” You questioned out of the blue leading to Buck snorting as you giggled, “I’m serious. When I was bleeding in that building, all I could think about was you. If Maddie is anything like you, she’s waiting in the waiting room with Chimney.”

“You aren’t wrong. All the chairs are taken. Our family was waiting for you to wake up.” Buck breathed, leaning closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “Are you sure?”

“About marrying you?” You softly questioned the man who couldn’t help but believe this was a dream. How he’d somehow got the girl of his dreams to agree to marry his ass, “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. All I want to share is your last name for the rest of my life. You are it for me, Evan Buckley. All the flaws you see are beautiful to me.”

“Only you would want to get married after being shot mere hours ago.” Buck chuckled with a sigh pulled from his pink lips, “I’ll get the doctor for you and find out if we can be married here.”

While you were checked out, Buck left the room to go back to the waiting room where the 118 and your co-workers waited. Everyone perked up at his appearance, Christopher asleep on Eddie’s lap.

“Is she okay?” Bobby questioned as the tension in the room grew more and more. It shattered into relief when Buck grinned.

“She’s sore as expected. She’s gonna catch some sleep, but she’d like to see Maddie.” Buck replied, pinning his gaze on his big sister with her curled into Chimney’s body. Her cheeks flooded with tears of absolute relief, “C’mon.”

The waiting room started emptying with Buck’s promise to keep everyone updated, but before Bobby could step away, Buck asked for him.

“Do you need a few days off?” Bobby questioned just as Buck came closer to the seasoned firefighter.

“No. But could you spare an hour?” The expression on Buck’s face was enough for Bobby not to ask any further questions. He simply followed Buck back towards your hospital room, where Maddie and Chim waited.

“What’s going on?” Bobby inquired, with the addition of the hospital assigned Priest holding the standard bible. Chimney could only shrug in response to whatever was going on.

“I know there have been times we haven’t seen eye to eye, but Bobby, you’re like a father to me. You gave me chance after chance when anyone else would have given up. You guided me on how to be a man. Y/N and I would like it if you’d be here for this.”

“Wait, are you getting married? What about the wedding?” Maddie spluttered, flicking her gaze between her brother and you. Her question surprised her boyfriend and Bobby.

“We’ll still have it. But I want to marry her without the pressure of our parents. Just a private ceremony with some of the people that mean the most to us.” Buck answered for the two of you, “Would you stay?”

“Of course.” Maddie softly spoke with a slideshow of memories playing in her mind of watching Buck grow up.

Watching Evan go through all kinds of injuries, all in the name of attention but never getting it the way he deserved it. She remembered giving him advice for asking out Donna and holding him when he was rejected. The little toddler with the impish grin somehow turned into an idiot in the hospital.

Maddie saw the man her little brother had turned into with the help of the 118 and you.

Buck’s fingers made quick work of buttoning his short-sleeve uniform with the sudden appearance of his friend.

“That’s new.” Eddie spoke from his opened locker holding his uniform and a picture of his family on the door. It was a picture of Christopher, Buck, you and Eddie from the zoo a couple months back.

Buck looked over at his best friend, “Hm?”

“The ring.” Eddie snorted dramatically, looking at the ring that had been living on his finger since he married you five days ago, “Did my invite get lost in the mail?”

“Nah, we just got married in the hospital. We’re still planning the wedding to appease both sides of our family. And I promised Christopher he could be in the wedding. With Y/N on medical leave, the planning will be faster. She’s going stir crazy after five days.” Buck finished tucking in the shirt into his work-issued pants. Lastly, he slid his ring onto the metal chain he had bought recently.

Like you did, he would wear it around his neck when working for safety reasons.

“I’m happy for you, man.” Eddie told his friend just as the bell rang, “You’ll have to tell me how you’re liking the married life.”

“But first, we have a job to do.” Buck supplied all the while jogging to suit up in his turnout gear with Hen and Chimney.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Crisis Redo Pt 5

Kara's heart sinks as quickly as it had lifted at the unexpected sight of Lena. Her jaw works soundlessly, no words coming out until Kara can catch her breath.

"Lena..." is all she can get out before Lena's features harden.

"Nope." Lena's mouth downturns to a deliberate frown. She turns on her heel and goes back the way she came. "Nope, not doing this."

"Wha-- buh... Lena!" Kara calls after her, breaking into a trot. She jogs after Lena, speeding up when Lena begins to run as well, setting a steady, well-practiced pace through the trees. "Wait!"

Lena ignores her, soon huffing in even breaths as she resumes the run Kara had so rudely interrupted. Determined, Kara speeds up until she matches Lena stride for stride, jogging alongside her.

"I swear I'm not following you," Kara explains as smoothly as she can. Lena shoots her a sharp glare. "I mean, I am now, but I didn't know you were going to be here, honest."

Unlike Lena, her lungs don't pant for air, and her skin doesn't moisten with sweat. She could keep this pace for days, and she can see the moment Lena considers trying to outrun her, only to dismiss it out of hand. Any pace Lena set, Kara could easily outmatch.

In the end, Lena simply stops in the middle of the trail. Kara travels on a couple of steps, then backtracks to rejoin her.

"Exactly what part of our last conversation suggested I wanted to see you again?" Lena demands.

Kara sighs. "None. I know, you want nothing to do with me--"

"Due in no small part to the fact that I now have nightmares about shooting my brother and hearing him laugh at me for being a goddamned idiot." Lena huffs, crossing her arms to keep from gesticulating. Her fingers press hard into her biceps to keep her hands still. "Which is a memory you put back in my head-- without my consent, thank you very much."

Shame floods Kara, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. "I know... and I'm sorry--"

"Really? See, I don't think you are. Because despite me wanting nothing to do with you, here you are."

"I was just driving, and I ended up at the bed and breakfast last night--"

"And I'm supposed to believe that it's all just one big coincidence?"

"Yes!" Kara clips out, frustrated and helpless. "Because it is! I'm on vacation!"

"Vacation," Lena repeats, nonplussed. "In my town. In the middle of nowhere."

"Mhmm," Kara hums haughtily.

"And you just so happen to show up on my favorite running trail."

Kara falters. "Yeah, well... it's a public trail!"

Lena rolls her eyes. "Right. Well, I hope you enjoyed your stay at Nancy's. And your drive back to National City."

Sighing, Kara reaches for her friend. "Lena..."

Lena pulls away, tightening her ponytail. "Stay away from me," Lena warns, before turning and continuing her run.

This time, Kara lets her go, listening to the sound of Lena's footsteps long after the woman is out of sight.

---

Walking back to the inn, Kara decides to respect Lena's wishes. As much as she wants to stay, it's clear that Lena is uncomfortable to have her there, and she knows that crossing Lena's boundaries would only make things worse.

She showers in the en suite to her room and changes her clothes before taking advantage of the breakfast provided in the dining room. She chats with some of the other guests, but the conversation is superficial, meaningless. After, she takes a stroll down Main Street, but is careful to avoid getting anywhere close to where she knows Lena's practice sits.

On her way back, Kara's eye catches on a quaint food truck sitting on the boundary of the town square. As she nears, she discovers that its a bakery truck, complete with hot drinks to go. Kara orders a large vanilla caramel latte and a dozen assorted pastries for the road.

"You look familiar," the cashier says. Kara looks up-- and freezes when she recognizes Lena's mother Elizabeth behind the counter.

Kara immediately flushes. "Oh, uhm, well.... I just have one of those faces..."

"No, I definitely recognize you from somewhere. I have an eye for these sorts of things." Elizabeth regards her curiously as she transfers the pastries from their cases to the box. "You ever come through Willow Creek before?"

Kara shakes her head. "No... first time. It's lovely though."

Elizabeth nods. "That it is. Think we might just stick around."

"We?" Kara prompts, unable to help herself.

"Oh, my daughter became the town doctor, oh-- about eight years back now. Lena. She settled here, and I figured I'd come join her for a bit. Now it doesn't look like we'll be leaving any time soon..." Elizabeth trails off, then smiles brightly when she spots something over Kara's shoulder. "Oh! Here she comes now!"

Kara presses her eyes shut, bracing herself for the outrage that's sure to come. But when she turns, Lena only glowers once before schooling her features to deliver a smile to her mother.

"Lena! Come meet one of our visitors!"

"Morning, mom," Lena greets. She shoots Kara a look. "Kara."

"Hi, Lena," Kara says quietly.

"Oh, you've already met!" Elizabeth exclaims happily. "How wonderful." Then she pauses, her brow furrowing not unlike her daughter's does when faced with a particular intriguing problem. "Kara... oh! You're Kara Danvers, aren't you!"

Kara offers a grimacing smile. "Guilty."

Lena snorts.

Elizabeth rewards Kara with a broad smile. "Oh my goodness! I must have read every single one of your articles. Proud CatCo subscriber since 1998."

"Sorry to interrupt, mom," Lena interjects, "but do you have my regular? I'm late to the clinic."

Elizabeth reaches over and plucks a prepared travel mug from the counter behind her and hands it to her daughter. "Lena, you never told me you knew Kara Danvers."

For a moment, Lena freezes, and Kara can see the gears working inside her head as she swiftly considered what and how much to tell her mother.

"It's a recent development," is what she comes up with.

Kara nods in agreement. "We met when Lena was recently in National City. She, ah, she mentioned Willow Creek and I just had to see it for myself."

"And now she's seen it," Lena affirms, giving Kara a pointed look. Then she gestures with her thermos towards her mother. "Thanks, Mom. I should be home a little early today. Bye, Kara."

Kara watches Lena leave, then gives Elizabeth an apologetic look. "Yeah, I'm leaving this afternoon."

"Nonsense!" Elizabeth counters, leaning forward intently. "You can't leave before the Autumn Festival this weekend!"

"Oh, no, I couldn't... I have to--" Well, she doesn't have to get back to work, and her family probably wouldn't wonder where she was for another five days or so, so...

"At least stay for tea this afternoon," Elizabeth insists. "I close up shop in a few hours, and I'd love to pick your brain for details about Cat Grant."

Kara startles then, just a little. "Miss Grant?"

"Of course! I ran into her once in Metropolis, and her aura was unlike anything I'd ever seen before..." Elizabeth cocks her head to one side, as though studying Kara in a new light. "A little like yours, actually."

Kara flushes, tucking her hair behind one ear. "I uh-- I'd love to, but--"

"It's settled then!" Elizabeth says, clapping her hands together. "Come back here at two and we'll have some tea."

Before Kara can protest further, someone in line behind her clears their throat intently. Shuffling off to the side, Kara moves out of the way, her thoughts swirling chaotically in her head.

Lena is going to kill her if she finds out Kara had tea with her mom. On the other hand, Elizabeth intrigues Kara, and Kara finds herself desperately wanting to know the woman who raised Lena with so much love. If risking Lena's ire was the price to learn more of Elizabeth, it might just be worth it.

At least Lena probably didn't have any kryptonite squirreled away up here in the woods of Willow Creek...

Did she?

[wdwmarveldisney]

🥺👉👈 Could I maybe request a doctor who x reader with a younger, more innocent teenage reader? And the doctor gets protective over them, especially when they could be in danger. Any doctor could fit. (sorry if this is not enough information I'm new to making requests)

Let them go

Eleventh Doctor x platonic!teen!reader

Summary: When the Doctor takes you to your favourite musical, things once again don’t end well.

Masterlist

A/N: Ok so I loved this request and thank you so much. You are so sweet. Don’t worry about how information there is, I just hope that you like it. I may have mixed a little Newsies in here because, well I love it and I honestly think about how I would a hundred percent ask to go there if I was travelling with the Doctor.

Not my GIF

Shaking violently when travelling seemed to be the only flaw of the TARDIS and even then, it was only because the Doctor was a terrible pilot. He had tried to convince you otherwise but you'd met River on more than one occasion and she had actual evidence for her argument so excuse you if you sided with her. But that didn't mean that you hated it; every time it happened, you'd grin real big because it was just yet another reminder of the chaos that came with the Doctor. You had a usual place by the controls, one where you were often moved from during flight to avoid you being in the way. Most of the time you ended up in one of the seats, watching his every move in hopes of learning what any of it meant. River had promised to teach you when you were older, said you could leave the Doctor in the 1920s where he apparently thrived and she'd teach you how to the drive the TARDIS.

Right now however, you were here in 2017 New York, at your request. You had asked to see the recording of Newsies after a small (ok so maybe the exact opposite of small) obsession with the musical over the years. You were surprised when all the Doctor had to do was make a call and suddenly you were right at the front with the opportunity to go backstage afterwards too. The inner fangirl was hard to control as the two of you headed to the doors and you managed to stumble slightly but he had caught you before you could fall into the wooden doors. Pouting as he laughed, you tugged his bow tie hard making him stop with a frown and a hand going to readjust it. He scanned your attire with an amused smile which resulted in a flick to the head from you. "Ow, I didn't say anything!"

You walked out the TARDIS, breathing in the smell of hotdogs and petrol before facing him with a small frown, "You were thinking it. I can wear a Newsies shirt if I want to wear a Newsies shirt," he put his hands up in surrender as he walked out too and then quickly turned to lock the doors. You tugged at the shirt in question as you glanced round the empty alley, waiting for him. It was a few seconds before you felt an arm fall into your shoulders and quickly you began to walk to the streets with big smiles on your faces. In the small time you had come to know the Doctor, he had become like family. You had been quite sheltered growing up, never seen much trouble but that's kinda expected from a small town family. When you started travelling with the TimeLord, you saw a lot of bad stuff, things you had never even thought possible and so naturally, he was protective. He was like an older brother, maybe a dad ish vibe.

Your steps were in time with his as you approached the theatre, huffing at how long the queue to get in was. Finally in line, you tapped your foot patiently and suddenly, the question had slipped from your lips without much thought, "How did you get good tickets?" He paused, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie nervously before straightening out his tweed jacket. He avoided eye contact and instead stared at the bright lights surrounding you guys, "Well, um, I helped write it. Historical facts and stuff," you watched him shrug with terribly faked nonchalance. Jaw dropping, your eyes went comically wide as you stuttered out, "You- They- What?" Unbelievable. Of course he knew about your obsession with the musical and failed to mention his involvement with writing it.

It was a couple hours later and you were waiting by the Doctor's side as the theatre cleared out. He had spent the whole musical jittery and chatty, clearly not good with just sitting there and watching. Several times someone had complained and you had had to talk with him about it. He was a literal child at times. But despite the fact he had muttered about his hate for Twitter after the girl next to you guys tweeted a picture of herself and her friend there, you enjoyed yourself. The musical was just as great as the first time you watched the recording, if not better. And now, you couldn't stop bouncing in excitement. You were actually going backstage, and you were going to meet the cast of a musical you have obsessed over for years.

But of course, with the Doctor, things never happened that easily.

The TimeLord had pulled out his sonic screwdriver to fiddle with while you waited and frowned at the noise it made. You caught his muttering and huffed, already knowing that look on his face. Concern, anger and a touch of excitement. "Don't say it," his eyes slowly left the device in his hands as he raised an eyebrow at your words. Someone was just leaving the backstage area but neither of you noticed as you sighed, "Why does something always have to happen? One good, non-alien day is all I ask. Is that even possible with you?" He grinned goofily at you with a breathy chuckle before raising the screwdriver in the air and scanning your surroundings. You jumped at the tap on your shoulder, facing the crew member with fists raised like that would do something. "Oh,"

"I was sent to get you. What's he doing?" You glanced to the Doctor, who now stood on one of the seats and you shrugged, arms crossing over his chest. Looking between both men, eventually you answered, "I find it best not to ask until he gets that look on his face," the guy frowned as he watched the Doctor jump from the seat and run up an aisle and look through one of the doors. As the two of you watched him lock the door with the screwdriver, the crew guy asked, "What look?" Going to respond, you stopped yourself once seeing the dark look of his face. The one that ensured mortal danger and most likely ended with the two of you saving the world. Again.

"That look," the guy watched you point to the alien as he made his way over to you by jumping over one of the seats. His arm landed on your shoulders as he huffed slightly from all the running round, "Right okay then, possible shapeshifter, very dangerous and kills for the hell of it. Also, amazing dancers and have a tendency to be really funny. Ready?" As he spoke, he looked the guy up and down in a calculating way as if he was possible suspect. You ignored the shock and fear on the guy's face in front of you and instead tilted your head in debate, "I mean, yeah sure," with a laugh, he clapped his hands together and approached the crew member. He too ignored the expression or he just didn't notice with how quickly his mind was now working. He smiled, hands clasped in front of him as he did another look over the guy before speaking, "Ok, we're ready to go. Should probably check out backstage first," he looked to you and you nodded in agreement. "Well," he paused as he placed his hands on the guy's shoulder, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Panicky look still clearly painted on his features, his voice shook as he managed, "Carl,"

"Well Carl, lead the way," gripping the clipboard in his hands tighter, Carl turned around and began to walk up the stairs and backstage with the two of you following. You stared at your feet as you walked, pout on your lips as you thought, "So, when you say very dangerous...?" The Doctor paused before backtrack king to you and placing his hands on your shoulders whilst ducking his head down to meet your eyes. He had such certainty and determination that you knew he wasn't lying when he said, "Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise," a chuckle left your lips as you punched his shoulder, smile lighting up your face as he remained unbelievably serious, "Well duh. I've got my own hero. And you know I'd haunt the hell out of you," he shook his head, smile fighting it's way to his face as the two of you began to walk behind the curtain.

-

So apparently the Doctor isn't great with promises or at least, that's what you gather when the two of you were walking down a deserted corridor and something had grabbed you from behind. The last hour had been the two of you searching in the dark, trusting no one since this alien shapeshifted. Two crew members were found dead and another missing so the Doctor insisted on going to find her and well, naturally you followed without question. And now you had a claw to your throat as you whimpered at how hard the alien was pulling your hair. This made the Doctor turn, eyes darkening when he saw you struggling and crying quietly to yourself. "Let them go," it was practically a whisper but it echoed in the hall, making the creature laugh. "Why would I do that?" The voice was deep and distorted and almost robotic, "They'll be so much fun," the last word was spat, venom in the voice making whimper again. You shook violently and the Doctor met your terrified eyes with his remorseless ones. "Why are you here? Order the Shadow Proclamation states Earth is a Level five planet. Do you know what they'd do to you?" He took a few taunting steps forward, head almost bowed in anger.

A small scream left your lips as the claw made a small cut in your throat and the Doctor seemed to tense. Rolling out his shoulders, the TimeLord uncharacteristically smirked as his fingers toyed with the screwdriver in his hands and he laughed almost hollowly, "I know about your people. I have fought your people time again and again and again. And do you want to know what I remember?" There was a pause in his words, only audible thing being your small cries, "You really don't like high frequencies," he raised an eyebrow as he pressed a button and the alien began to freak. His hands slammed over his ears and he stumbled back, essentially freeing you. You managed to make your way to a worried and panicking Doctor before the two of you rushed down the hall and inside a changing room. You fell back against the door as the whir of the screwdriver and the click of the lock and the huffs of your breaths filled the room.

Suddenly the small device was stuck in your face, scanning you up and down before you smacked it away. He gave you a pointed look before carrying on, no doubt scanning for any other type of harm. He was in protective mode which wasn't uncommon but could get annoying when he wouldn't stop checking up on you. With a frustrated expression, you snatched the screwdriver from his hands and shook your head when your eyes met, “I’m fine,” you made sure to emphasise the last word and the Doctor mimicked you under his breath like a three year old. Scoffing, you pointed the screwdriver at him in warning but he just simply took it back with a small huff.

And then there was a bang at the door and the two of you were reminded of the danger you were facing this time round.

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter Five / Double Shot on Ice

W/C: 3.7k

Warnings: physical fighting, mentions of blood/bruises/injuries, pepper spray being used, language ofc, tenderness to the extreme

A/N: hi this is going to be really harsh then very tender, so I hope you like that! I really love this series and I can’t wait for you guys to keep reading :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

“Javi!” you shriek as Tie Guy gets up, head still spinning but ready to fight. No, you do not want this. Javier defending you was one thing, but you can’t let him be harmed.

Grabbing the man you now consider your boyfriend by the arm, you pull him from the bar, rushing outside into the chilly D.C. night. You wrap your coat tighter around yourself, looking at the man with the most puzzled expression your face can possibly make.

Tie Guy has followed you out. Fuck. The one goddamn night you wear heels, you mentally shame yourself. Even though they aren’t very tall, there’s no way in hell you can run in them. “Let it go, let it go,” you mutter under your breath, begging Javi and silently praying the other man drops it too. It doesn’t work. Tie Guy stalks after you, following you into the parking garage nearby. He’s dead set on Javier. Your plea works until Tie Guy shouts out.

“Hey, you bastard! I’m not finished with you!” he shouts.

Javier spins and drops your arm, handing you his coat and stalking towards the man.

“You wanna be a disrespectful fucking bastard, I’ll keep beating your ass,” Javier threatens.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Tie Guy huffs. “She’s got you so fucking whipped man,” he laughs, pulling Javier right into his trap. “She’s not even-”

Javi steps closer to throw another hit. The man beats him to the punch, quite literally. His fist connects with Javier’s eye, and he stumbles backwards, falling onto his rear end in the gravel. “Yeah, tough guy,” Tie Guy crows, but Javier gets up quickly.

Whitney, your car, is parked right there. You can’t bear to look away, but you know what to do. You run to the car, sliding into the passenger seat and rummaging through your glovebox. While you’re running, you hear another smack: Javier is on the ground, clutching what was his good eye until he got punched in it. Fuck.

Javier is a trained fighter. Tie Guy really doesn’t stand a chance when Javier gets up, rage and adrenaline coursing through his veins from taking two hits to the face. More fists fly, nothing connecting with the proper target. Nails find skin, scratches and scrapes on arms and faces. Javi kicks him in the gut and he falls down but gets up before Javi can keep going,

The timing is perfect. Tie Guy has his back to you, and Javier is a yard or two away from the man. You just need his attention-

In the heat of the moment, you think of the only thing you can throw: you slip off one of your heels and wail it at the man. It connects with the side of his head, which he immediately claps a hand over in the pain. “What the fuck-” Timing is everything, and you have the power. Lifting the lid and releasing the trigger, you pepper spray the man right in the eyes. He wails in agony, falling to his knees and clutching at the excruciating eyeballs.

You nod to your car, and throw the other shoe at the man for good measure. It connects with his balding head, he falls flat on the ground, and you start running towards Whitney in your now bare feet. Javier follows, immediately sliding into the passenger seat.

Now is the time you wish you’d put a little more money into your ride. Whitney sputters to life after a few panicked seconds, and you slam on the gas once your car is shifted in reverse, wasting no time in getting the fuck out of that parking garage. Once you’re on the road, Tie Guy now up on his knees in pain in your rearview mirror, you sigh in relief and shudder as the adrenaline dies down.

Javier’s head is swimming, probably from the intense hit he took to it. He looks over at you, in your disheveled formal gear, and can’t help but laugh. “Damn, abejita. Thought you were just a fluffy little bumblebee. Didn’t know you could sting.”

You giggle from the adrenaline and brake at a stop sign, pulling Javier’s face to yours and kissing him hard. His lip is split, you can taste the blood, but he doesn’t wince in pain so you kiss him harder for a minute, putting all of your energy and gratitude and passion for the man into it.

When he breaks away, he looks down. “You’re driving barefoot.”

“That’s the first fucking thing you have to say to me?” You laugh, though it’s far from offended. You shake your head as the consequences of earlier start to sink in, driving towards Javier’s hotel. “Javi, what the fuck? You didn’t need to throw the first punch, oh my God. He was a douche but you could’ve taken a much different path.”

“It’s the only way he’d learn his lesson,” Javier grumbles, his adrenaline-enhanced state of laughter turning to one of annoyance at being chided. Your expression matches his, wanting to fight back but not wanting to start anything. You just leave it be.

You gasp in realization of something else and go quiet for a moment. You look over at him, the frown breaking, and giggle a little. “Oh fuck. We didn’t pay the tab.”

Javier’s stoic expression breaks and he laughs a little too, the adrenaline still rushing through his system. “We just can’t go back there ever again, I guess.”

“That’s your answer?” You laugh as you look over at him, your heart in your eyes. “God, I love you,” you laugh off-handedly, then a shiver runs through your body, eyes practically bulging from your head. “Oh, fuck,” you murmur, looking over at him with furrowed brows. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to say that.”

Javier just smiles a little, taking one of your hand and tracing your knuckles with his thumb. “It’s okay.”

“I- well, and you don’t have to say it back by the way,” you stumble. “I know I haven’t known you that long, and we’re barely together already, but just everything tonight has me overwhelmed and I’ve never felt that much adrenaline, oh god, I think I meant it but you don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to,” you ramble again and continue, “just… yeah.”

Javier reaches over and presses a kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay,” he repeats and nods, his hand on the back of your head and his fingers softly sinking into your hair in a way that makes you whimper. When he pulls back, he finds your eyes to be round and watering. “What’s wrong?” he asks, brows lowering over those warm eyes.

You gulp, voice quivering when you speak. “That was embarrassing,” you admit with a watery laugh, the tears running down your face. “And that whole thing was so scary, I’ve never even had to use pepper spray, and he beat you up, and-”

“Pull over,” Javier orders and you comply, parking in a nearby spot in front of a store that’s long closed for the night. Your eyes are still slowly dripping and Javier takes both of your hands in his. “You did so good. You did the best possible thing, and I didn’t even have to tell you. Most people wouldn’t have done that.”

You pull one of your hands back and wipe your nose. “That was my favorite pair of shoes.”

It makes Javi crack a smile and a small laugh. “It’s my fault. I’ll buy you a new pair.”

“It’s not your fault,” you backtrack, voice still squeaky from the tears dripping from your eyes. You take in just how rough he looks, arms scratched, lip bleeding, eyes red and bloodshot and likely to bear the brunt of it in the morning. “Javi,” you coo, cupping his face. “Fuck. You’re really beat up.”

He shakes his head. “This is nothing, little bee,” he mumbles and kisses your knuckles. “What matters is that you’re okay. Come on, let’s get to the hotel and get my stuff then I’ll drive the rest of the way.”

With a sniffle, you nod and kiss him one more time. “I think I meant it,” you whisper to him, and he offers you a soft smile before returning back to sitting forward and buckling back into the seat, like you’d insisted he do earlier. He doesn’t ask what you meant. He knows.

On the drive back to Georgetown, Javier holds your hand, and you trace over the scratches and bruises on his knuckles when your eyes aren’t on the road. Traffic out of the city is slow, as nights usually are around this time, everyone flocking in to see the heart of the capital city. Your adrenaline rush is coming down, starting to make you tired and chilly. You look over at Javier and consider that he didn’t say he loved you back. It’s not fair of you, you shake your head and turn back. It’s been a week of knowing each other. He doesn’t have to, especially if he doesn’t feel that way.

The anxiety of Javier never responding to it makes the anxiety swirl through your brain as you drive. From the place you pulled over, it doesn’t take very long for you to arrive at the grand hotel, the warm lights casting a golden glow and radiating warmth. The adrenaline has faded by now, leaving you worn and warm-hearted as the consequences sink in: Javier would fight for you. You’re starting to suspect there aren’t many things he wouldn’t do for you.

You kiss his cheek before he gets out of the car. “I’ll park over here,” you tell him and point to a spot near the door. “That way, when you’re done checking out, you can just dump your stuff in here and we’ll head to my place.

Javier turns your face to his and kisses you softly, his mouth drawn up in a soft smile. “Sounds good, abejita.” He gets out of the car and walks inside, leaving his suit jacket in the car. He loosens his tie as he walks in, the muscles of his back and shoulders visible through his dress shirt. You could get used to that view.

It takes him a little bit; of course it does, you rationalize, since he has to pack up and check out. You rest your head against the window and lock your car, letting your eyes fall shut. You’re not sure if you drift off or not, just that it’s not much longer before there’s a tap at your car window.

You startle as you sit up and open your eyes, finding Javier there, holding his bag and suitcase. You unlock the car and get out, letting him take the driver’s side. He kisses you on the head before putting his things in the backseat. You walk around and get into the passenger side, the ground wet and cold from the December snow melting beneath your bare feet.

The car is cozy and warm compared to the chilly air you just spent a moment in. You gaze over at Javier lovingly as he takes control of the car, backing out of the spot. “You gotta tell me where to go,” he reminds you as he pulls out of the hotel parking lot.

Nuzzling in against the car door, you tell him the directions to your apartment, shivering intermittently. Your eyes slip shut and your arms squeeze around yourself tighter before Javier chuckles. “Here,” he says, reaching into the back and getting his suit jacket, draping it over you. It’s still warm from his body heat, a little muddy on the back from when Tie Guy knocked him down, but it’s the coziest thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of wearing. “Thanks, Hercules,” you tease as you rest your head against the chilled glass.

“Hercules?” He laughs.

“Self-explanatory,” you smile sleepily and shrug beneath his jacket.

-

When you’re finally at your apartment, you open the door a bit nervously then show him the living room, directly connected to the door. “Voila,” you chuckle and wrap his jacket tighter around yourself, walking inside. “Bathroom and bedroom are to the right, kitchen’s right there,” you inform him, turning to him and shrugging. “Sorry it’s kind of a mess.”

It’s far from a mess, Javier thinks, nothing compared to his place or Steve’s that week he went on a bender. There are houseplants under every window, and the decor is warm and inviting. It’s definitely very you. “It’s not,” he chuckles, setting his briefcase on the couch.

“It is by my standards,” you shrug. “Why don’t we get changed then we’ll ice your eyes?”

“My eyes are fine,” he insists.

“I don’t give a shit if you think they’re fine,” you shrug and pat his cheek lightly, wandering towards your bathroom. Javier follows you in the same direction but goes into your bedroom to change. Inside, you take off your makeup and adjust your hair in the mirror. You change into pajamas and sigh at your exhausted-looking reflection.

When you’re done, you walk into the bedroom to find Javier in sweatpants and shirtless, his back to you. His muscles are defined, moving as he rummages through his bag of belongings. God, he’s strong, and it makes you shiver a little at the sight. You place a hand between his shoulder blades, marveling at the softness and warmth of the skin there.

He jumps at the feeling but melts into your touch, especially as your nimble hands knead his back softly. He sighs at the feeling, cracking his neck and earning a few pops. You press a kiss to the nape of his neck and you can feel his body shiver beneath you.

You swallow hard, wanting to say something but not knowing what. The moment is soft and quiet, and you’re honestly surprised Javier hasn’t made a dry joke yet. That’s how you know he must like you touching him, and it makes you bite your lip to hide a smile. You kiss down his spine until you land between his shoulder blades, then break away and sigh. “I’m going to go get an ice pack for your eyes,” you inform him and give his worn shoulders one last squeeze.

You turn to leave, but Javier catches your waist, turning around himself. He kisses you softly, his hand cupping the side of your face. The heels of his hands are scraped, and you touch your face when he pulls away to find he transferred a little blood there. It doesn’t matter; it was worth it. “And some bandages and rubbing alcohol,” you chuckle, kissing his palm beneath his fingers, making your way to the kitchen.

To access the top shelf, you have to get on your knees on the counter. That’s where Javier finds you a few moments later, grabbing the medical supplies. You turn and sit on the edge, setting the medical supplies to one side while the ice pack sits at the other. You smile as you see him, sighing at the warmth he radiates in his white t-shirt and sweats. “Come here,” you beckon out in a quiet voice, like there’s some soft reverence now that you don’t dare to break.

Javier spreads your legs and stands between them, a hand resting on each thigh. He steals a kiss before you look away to grab the cotton swabs and hydrogen peroxide. You pour a little on the puff and Javier winces at the smell, all too familiar with the sting that’s sure to follow. He lifts his hand without you needing to ask, and you rub the wound softly.

“Fuck,” he grunts, and it’s gone as soon as it started.

“It’s not so bad,” you tease and wipe his other palm, earning a similar reaction. “Do you need me to kiss it better?” you offer sarcastically, raising one eyebrow at him.

“Yes please,” he smirks, and you cup his face as you kiss him, his warm body pressing flush to yours. God, you didn’t realize how cold your apartment was before just now, when the heat Javier seems to endlessly radiate seeps into every ounce of your being.

When you break away, you swallow and look away, desperately avoiding the longing for him you can already feel growing as an ache in your gut. “Bandage time. Give me one,” you say, holding your hand out for his. He rests his palm on yours and you unwrap a thick patch bandage, placing it over the scraped heel. You repeat the motion on the other hand, then kiss his knuckles. “Good as new, right?”

He nods softly, kissing you between your eyebrows. “Thank you, abejita.”

“Any time. Well, no. I don’t want you in any more fights,” you shake your head and laugh, looking down at his thick and worn hands. “Let’s go rest on the couch and ice your face,” you smile, pushing him back and sliding off the counter’s edge.

“I could use you in Colombia with me,” he chuckles, grabbing the ice packs as you set the supplies aside. “You make a much better nurse than the medics we have at the embassy.”

You blow a raspberry into the air, chuckling at the notion. “Just bring me with,” you laugh, leading him to the couch.

Javier takes one of your hands. “I would, but it would be no good for you down there. Too much danger, especially without our protection.”

“And what would that protection entail?” You ask sarcastically, playing into the joke before plopping on the couch.

Javier follows, draping an arm across your shoulder. “I’d have to ask my partner; he’s married, and I’m clearly not so I don’t know. I do know that you would be in harm’s way if I brought you just as my girlfriend. The narcos will fuck around with guys’ girlfriends, their flings, use them as bargaining chips. I’ve seen it happen. But the wives, they get the protection. If a narco fucked with them, they’d be good as dead.”

You nod along, listening. It’s kind of interesting. You have to admit, you don’t know much about what’s going on down there, but it’s fascinating to learn. You’ve always wanted to travel, especially to Latin or South America since you’d studied Spanish all through high school and your time at Georgetown. “Then you’ll have to sign me on as a nurse with the DEA, huh?” You flirt and kiss the tip of his nose.

He doesn’t answer, just laughs, lying back on the couch. “Here,” you say and tell him the ice pack, which he drapes over his eyes.

You snuggle into his side, enjoying the slow and steady heartbeat through his white t-shirt. “You know, we could always just ice it in bed,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his collarbone innocently, lightly.

He frowns. You can see it. “I’m sleeping on the couch while I’m here.”

“What? You are not sleeping on a couch for a month, Javier,” you insist and sit upright, separating yourself from him.

“I’ve known you for four days. You have your space, and this is it. I’m with you all the damn time anyway. I want to give you some room.” Javier’s words are true, but he really has a deeper meaning. He wants to fuck you. He wants to fucking ravage you until you’re screaming his name, he really does, but the gentleman deep inside tells him he needs to wait. It tells him that he doesn’t want to ruin this, the relationship you’re having. It’s December: almost a new year. He just got a new job. He’s going to be a new Javier. And if he sleeps in the same bed as you, that’s going to make things a hell of a lot more difficult.

The words he speaks are valid. You nod, though you’re only planning to let it slide for one night. “Okay.” You recline back again, against Javier’s chest and into his arms.

Javi knows the couch won’t be comfortable. He’s slept on plenty of them in his day. But if that’s what it will take for the relationship to stay like this, soft and light, he’ll take it. He’d sleep on a couch every night for the rest of his life if it means he gets to have you.

The clock creeps ever closer to midnight as you and Javier lie there, in each other’s arms, his eyes covered by the ice pack. You yawn and Javi realizes the ice pack has turned to slightly chilled water. “I think it’s time for bed, little bee,” he mumbles and sits up, opening his eyes again to find the moonlit apartment, blue with the night’s only light.

You nod and stand, stretching. Javier spots the small strip of skin evident between your top and bottoms, how soft and warm it looks, how much he’d like to kiss and bite it- no. Stop. If he had a squirt bottle, he’d be drenched from how many nos he says in his head.

Javier kisses you softly and follows you to a hall closet, where you grab him extra sheets and blankets, tossing extra pillows into the living room. The two of you make his makeshift bed, a sheet covering the cushions and several fluffy blankets on top of him. “Goodnight, Javi,” you murmur as you squat next to him, seated on the edge, kissing him goodnight.

“Goodnight, abejita,” he murmurs and kisses your forehead.

“Just holler if you need anything, okay?”

“I won’t,” he chuckles. “Go sleep. You need it.

You shake your head and cross your arms, making your way to your bedroom.

When you get in bed, you find yourself the drowsiest you’ve been in quite some time. The sleep you find is good, but you can’t help but think it would be better if Javier was in your bed too. Oh well. That’s a problem for tomorrow night.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @yooforia @oceanablue @sara-alonso @pedrosmustache @feelingmadclever @hnt-escape @radiowallet @obsessivelysearching @sugarontherims @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @linnie0119 @1800-fight-me @autumnleaves1991-blog @toilet-keeper @evelynseventyr @metalarmsandmanbuns @shannababyy @sambucky21 @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @theorganasolo @jagi-yaaa @mrsparknuts @tacticalsparkles

[furikakyo]

a return to roots | 6

pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader

summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break.

genre: socmed/smau, slice of life

warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence

masterpost

To say that your day wasn’t going as planned was an understatement. Although you’d known that you would have to see Kita that day, your mind had assured you that there were a couple hours until then. So to see him before that expected time…

You blinked, mouth opening and closing like the fish you’ve seen in koi ponds. “Oh. I didn’t expect you to be here…” You paused, and then pursed your lips definitively. If your mouth was shut then you couldn’t say anything else.

Kita gave you a lopsided smile. “I work here, remember?” His amber eyes twinkled as the sunlight caught them.

Your eyes trailed along the scene you’d been looking at previously. He didn’t just work here… he owned all of this. Stupid Kita, always selling himself short. Didn’t he know he was virtually perfect? Ah, right. You flushed, wondering if it was the embarrassment or the heat finally getting to you. Grabbing at anything to say, you blurted, “I was just admiring the view. Samu and I got here earlier than expected.” You wrung your hands nervously, then stopped. You didn’t want to seem nervous. “Um…” you said slowly, taking a step back, “it’s alright if you can’t accompany us right now. You’re probably busy.” You gnawed on your bottom lip. “Working the farm and stuff.”

“‘Us’?” Kita echoed, looking past you.

You chuckled nervously and scratched the back of your neck. It burnt with uneasiness, even more so when you remembered what you were wearing: an old oversized tshirt, shorts, and slides. You weren’t going to wear anything less comfortable on a road trip, you mind argued. “Yeah,” you mumbled, looking down, “Samu was with me but he got distracted. I was just looking around by myself.” After realizing that it could’ve sounded like you were trying to guilt trip Kita, you backtracked, waving your arms. “Not that that’s a bad thing!”

Your heart gave a gut-wrenching squeeze when he laughed softly at you. “It’s alright. If you’d like, I can show you around?”

You looked up from your hands, which had been busy wringing themselves into the hem of your shirt. “Ah! No,” you said quickly, “I’m totally fine on my own! I wouldn’t want to take you away from your work, either.”

You fiddled with a loose string on your t-shirt as Kita peered over at you, contemplative. “It’s ok,” he said after a pause, “I have time. And I want to make my way around anyways, so your timing couldn’t have been better.”

You stared at his back, speechless, as he began walking in the direction you’d been headed. Quickly, you picked your jaw up from the ground and clambered through the grass after Kita, who had slowed his pace so that you could catch up. Maybe if you hadn’t been so flustered you would’ve remembered that he had come from the direction you were now walking in.

If Osamu’s knowing stare when he’d eventually ran into you and Kita hadn’t been enough to make you internally crumple in on yourself, his suggestion for all of you to get dinner together was.

Not to say that his presence wasn’t welcome, though. When Kita hadn’t been speaking about something notable on the farm, it was silent for the most part, with you only dumbly repeating how nice it was. You hadn’t talked about anything more personal, like where you were in life now. It didn’t feel right just pretending nothing had happened; neither had starting off from where the two of you had left off. And it’s not like you could just say, “Hey, remember how a few years ago we almost dated but then didn’t which ended up kind of ruining our friendship? Let’s try to work through that now!” Kita was over it by now, unlike you, who’d just shoved everything into the back of your mind and hoped it wouldn’t ever be relevant again. This is what you get for neglecting it, you berated yourself, and yet when it came down to it, you weren’t sure whether it was the resigned silence between the two of you or the way that you felt the urge to act so impulsively— to hug him, kiss him, apologize to him—  which was more frightening.

And that was how Osamu had found you, lost in your thoughts while walking with Kita and then somehow finding yourself sandwiched between the two in Kita’s pickup truck. I don’t have enough gas to drive us, Osamu had said while hiding a wicked grin, knowing damn well that you wouldn’t argue with him about it in front of Inarizaki’s former captain; that you wouldn’t beg Osamu to prevent you from getting into a car with Kita, not with him there to witness it.

You tried to avoid squirming in the middle seat of the front row, conscious of every minute brush against Kita’s sleeve or shoulder. Osamu snickered quietly, and you jerked your head to the side to glare at him heatedly. This is all your fault, your eyes seethed, or at least you hoped you could convey as much feeling into them as you wanted. You stiffened when Kita’s arm brushed against yours momentarily as he made a turn, and you lurched towards him. Osamu finally had the decency to help you out, grabbing your shoulder to prevent the collision.

You shot him another dirty glare and then stared out through the windshield just as you all pulled into the otherwise abandoned parking lot of the local bar. If you hadn’t come from Kita’s but instead your own childhood house, you would’ve walked like most other people did.

Immediately you dropped the gloomy atmosphere, eyes now shining. “Izumi and Kenji’s!” You hopped out of the truck from Osamu’s side and jumped up and down excitedly. “I haven’t been here in years!” you exclaimed, rushing forward. Your two companions trailed behind you, amused.

The bells on the door jingled as you opened it, at once having cold air rush at you. You sighed in contentment, the sweat on your brow already cooling off.

“Hello?” A matronly figure stepped out from behind the bar counter, a rag in hand. Just as her eyes landed on you, they brightened. “Y/N!” The woman tossed the rag onto a table and rushed over to greet you, holding your hands in her own excitedly. “When did you get back? How long have you been here? Are you staying at your parents’ house?”

You laughed and squeezed her hands before dropping them. “Hello, Izumi. I got back here a little bit ago and unpacked most of my stuff at the house. Any other questions?”

Izumi fired a barrage of inquiries while leading you to the bar counter, insisting that you sit on a stool. Osamu sat down beside you and Kita next to him. “—so glad you’re back. And Osamu, you too! You’ve gotten more handsome! I bet the girls and boys are flocking to you in Tokyo. How is the shop doing? And you too, Shin-chan! You don’t visit quite enough for someone that lives so close by!”

The three of you sat amiably and answered all of Izumi’s questions, small talk being made between you as she bustled in and out of the kitchen. “Yumie-chan told us you would be coming today, but we weren’t sure when! I think most people are going to be here, though, so just sit tight!” She brought out light beers and edamame to munch on in the mean time, and then a tray of salted nuts later.

Slowly, the eatery filled with more of the local residents of your hometown, all gathering around you. Izumi had insisted on moving your food and drinks to a long row of tables, which she had pushed together to make room for everyone. There had been a big influx of the field workers from earlier, who all greeted your group before settling down on the other end of the seating arrangement. More and more dishes were being put out, most of them now plates of food to share among the table. The mood was festive and there was never a quiet moment, always a conversation going on or some laughter. At one point even her husband Kenji had come out from the kitchen and managed a gruff ‘welcome’, garnering cheers from everyone. Your plate was never empty, aunties placing pieces of karaage, sides of spring cabbage, and more onto it. Your cheeks were tinted pink and your face glowed; you’d had a few beers, enough to make you feel all warm inside.

At last, after having eaten until you felt like your stomach was going to explode, Izumi brought out the final sides to accompany any of the remaining alcohol and then finally took a seat along with the women, who were asking questions about your new lifestyle.

“So why’d ya really come back?” One of the ladies asked curiously, the others leaning in forward to hear your response.

For a moment your grin faltered before you laughed again, taking a handful of salted nuts and then eating them one by one. “Oh, you know, just some burn out. I’ve been working nonstop the past two years. I thought I deserved a break.” You crunched down on some nuts, your jaw tense. The corners of your mouth felt tired from having to drag up all the time; the pleasant buzz from earlier was quickly dissipating the more they asked about this.

Another one of the women, an older one, said slyly, “Are you sure you didn’t return for any other reason?” Her eyes slid overtly towards where the men were sitting, near Kita. He had been nursing his drink, the same one he’d had all night. Kita had never been much of a drinker and he wasn’t going to drive while being drunk; he was too much of a stickler for the rules.

“I’m sure,” you said politely, gritting your teeth. You’d forgotten how nosy these old women could be. They all tittered to themselves, as if they knew something you didn’t, and then began talking of something else, leaving you to yourself. Your eyes caught Osamu’s, who raised his eyebrows questioningly before getting the message. He stretched his arms widely and then faked a yawn, not bothering to cover his mouth.

“Samu, you should head to bed, son,” Kenji said bluntly. “Yer tired.”

The twin nodded and looked to you and Kita. At that moment you didn’t have to fake a yawn, because you actually were exhausted. “We should go,” Kita agreed, “before I get too tired to drive us back.”

The three of you stood, causing a chorus of disappointed aws to ring out. “Ah,” you said, gripping the back of your chair to steady you. “I have something to say before I go.” Everyone at the giant table stared expectantly at you, and you remembered what it was like to have stage fright all over, as if you were just starting out again. Your throat tightened as you swallowed. “Um,” you said quietly, bowing formally and not making eye contact with a single person, “I would just like to thank all of you for taking such good care of my parents’ home. It’s because of you that I can move back in so easily. So thank you.”

After not hearing any sort of response, you peeked upwards. “Aw,” Izumi sniffled, wiping away a stray tear, “it’s because of you that we managed to stay open, ya know that, Y/N? You had no business giving us that much money for the restaurant, so it was the least we could do.” She jerked her head at everyone else. “And it’s not like we did it by ourselves; Kenji and I had help.” Izumi’s black eyes glittered. “Lots of help.”

You scuffed a foot, looking down again. Your cheeks and ears burned. But then you thought of the tatami mats at the house and the freshly dusted furniture, taken care of every week for years, and you shook your head. “Well, I didn’t need all that money.”

Osamu put a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Let’s go, Y/N,” he said quietly, and you nodded, following him and Kita out of the door as the others called out their goodbyes to you.

Everything that had happened that day hit you on the ride home, still sandwiched between the two men. At some point, tears had begun falling, with you trying miserably to cover them up. You weren’t sure if you were crying because you were disappointed by your reunion with Kita, or maybe if it was because tonight’s dinner had been one of the most fulfilling, the most happy you’d been in years. Your lips wobbled and you sniffled too this time, wiping at your nose with your arm. It had felt nice coming home to a table full of faces you recognized and the comfort of Izumi’s food, having people inquire about you solely because they cared.

“You could’ve given me some of that money too, y’know,” Osamu quipped, breaking the awkward silence. “And don’t wipe your snot with your bare arm, that’s disgusting. Health code violation.” Kita only chuckled as you elbowed the twin and argued with him, listening to the banter with a pensive look on his face.  

a/n: hhHhH sorry this took longer, i had a really bad stomachache a few days ago which made me shit like 6 times in a day and then throw up 😩 and then after that i got addicted to genshin so

taglist (pm me to ask to be added): @papiibuprofen​, @duhsies, @succulentmom, @kenmaslov3r​​​, @introvertatitsfinest, @errorishere

some ~fun facts~

- kita WAS making his rounds on the farm, but was coming from the opposite side of you. meaning that after he ran into you, he retraced his path because he wanted to walk with you

- izumi is in her 60s. her specialty is cooking fried chicken (karaage) but she wants to learn how to pickle stuff

- kenji is izumi’s husband. he mostly works in the kitchen since he prefers to let his wife handle customers, even if 99% of them are locals

- izumi and kenji have been running their restaurant/bar since they were in their mid 20s 🥺 STOP THEYRE SO CUTE WHY AM I GETTING SO SENTIMENTAL OVER OCS

- y/n actually did give osamu money. so did atsumu. the two of them were actually the first investors for onigiri miya, right after the twins graduated high school, but osamu doesn’t know it because you had all of the legal stuff handled through a third party anonymously. you will ensure that osamu never finds out because he is prideful as heck lol

- y/n has some toxic traits (as do most people)

- there’s no love triangle with osamu or anything. strictly kita x reader 😤 

[butcherknives]

Headcanon: Interpreting Nero

This will be a mini series in which I break down the DMC dudes to try to root around their heads to give them some semblance of humanity. Motivations, thought processes, et cetera. What makes them, them.

Do I think their characterizations are this deep in canon? Not really. Do I think I know better than anyone else? Also no. But I have thoughts, so my goal is to get them down on this blog.

Some of this information is built from headcanons that fill small gaps in the lore. None of them should be much of a stretch, so hopefully this is alright.

Please enjoy. Read Vergil here Read Dante here

In the small religious village of Fortuna, not even the smallest misgiving can go unnoticed by the community.

When a drifter who’d claimed to come only seeking answers in their church, suspicion had been instant, and when a once-respected member fell prey to the vagabond’s seduction, it was a mark of shame on them all.

Her bastard son would bear the cross.

The whispers at Nero’s expense were insidious. The adults had passed along their judgement to their children, who would tease and mock Nero for being the son of a whore, a term which none of them truly knew the meaning. They shunned him, excluded him, and made sure that he knew he wasn’t wanted because he was different from them. He was impure.

But he didn’t understand. What had he done so wrong? Was his existence such a smudge on the community’s illusionary perfection?

With time, he learned that rotten mistakes – mistakes like Nero – are swept under the rug and left to fester unseen. How else could they continue such a dazzling show?

Rage is a driving theme for Nero, seen in his highly reactive personality primarily in the 4th game, and referenced repeatedly in Devil Trigger. Yet anger is a secondary emotion; it’s a caustic reaction to an open wound, not the wound itself. It’s safe, then, to assume that Nero’s first instinct to his treatment had been pain.

The asphyxiating loneliness had stitched grief through the eye of a searing needle deep, deep into his flesh, and that taut bite cauterized into a terrible, blistered rage.

When you live inside of that ever-ruminating anger, it becomes second nature – it’s as easy as breathing. Inhale hurt, exhale fury. And it strikes deep because it calcifies a genuinely soft heart who wants to be useful, who wants to help. Who wants to prove how worthwhile he truly is.

Although he is a far cry from devout, he joins the Order of the Holy Knights at a young age, likely with Credo’s assistance, where his explosive strength can be put to use. And despite being notoriously hard to work with – resistant to direct orders; prone to disregarding consequence; unable to hold his tongue – he proves his value.

Anything Nero finds worth doing, he gives his entire soul.

During his time in the Order, likely close to the beginning of DMC4, Nero sustains a grievous injury to his right arm. With his (then unknown) demonic power, it heals, yet it isn’t his skin that grows back.

Aside: It can be inferred that Agnus had a theory about this. As the one who told Sanctus that Nero is of Sparda’s bloodline without evidence given during the game, I’m making the call that he was able to deduce a few things about the vagabond who’d come through years prior; not a terribly hard connection to make, what with Vergil poking around to specifically find more information on Mundus and, ultimately, how to exact his revenge. Unable to prove it at the time, Agnus must have kept this information to himself until the cards fell into place.

Aside to the aside: It seems most likely that Vergil went to Agnus for information, as the resident demonologist. Theory here that this is how Agnus learned what the Yamato was capable of – although that’s only a headcanon.

Nero hides his arm in a sling. It’s supposed to still be injured, as it should have been for any normal human; no one would notice anything strange, and it seems, for the most part, no one does end up noticing. Not even Kyrie.

So let’s backtrack. Why does Nero show his emotions as anger? The most probable answer is lack of an outlet. When there’s no one to comfort your sadness, or when you’re desperately trying to seem strong, independent, or older than you are, you learn methods of concealment. Nero, whose heart dictates the majority his actions and morality, thus becomes a time bomb.

It’s worth noting that if Kyrie had died in 4, it’s incredibly likely that Nero would have followed in Vergil’s footsteps. With his entire family gone, there would have been nothing preventing him from drowning in that all-consuming rage. The guilt of “allowing” it to happen, of believing he was too weak to protect what mattered to him would have as similarly fueled him as it had his father. Would he have grown to desire power for the sake of it? What lengths would he have gone to raze Fortuna in his fury? Would he have piled the blame onto Dante?

And how would it have been for Dante to become once again locked in a battle with his own kin? A more chaotic, less methodical version of his own twin brother?

Fortunately, that isn’t the route we end up taking.

What we find instead is that with the help of Kyrie and the children they take in, Nero learns patience. His temper evens, although sparks of it still crackle just beneath the surface.

Always brewing and always ready.

[fenheart87]

Name For Your Order?

My work for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Exchange 2021! This goes out to @bevvydraws . Prompt was Coffee shop au! - So a coffee shop au where Luka is a singer who occasionally performs at the cafe, and Marinette is the shy barista who keeps forgetting to ask his name.

It was Tuesday, a bright and sunny Tuesday. Usually, just another day of the week except Marinette had been persuaded to swap her shift so one of her co-workers had the day free, which she did not mind at all, for two reasons. The first being that co-worker always covered when she needed it, and extra hours never hurt, but the bigger reason was one tall, blue-eyed and sweet guitarist that played at their little coffee shop on most Tuesdays. Now if she could only manage to talk to him and get his name, that way she could quit calling him ‘blue eyes’ in her head. Maybe she would ask him when he came to get his free cup of coffee, a perk that the manager gave for him bringing in more business.

Looking at the clock showed that the rush hour would be hitting soon, and Marinette checked all the cups, syrups, and other mixing items to make a list of what needed to be restocked before the rush. They never seemed to be successful in preparing for it but anything to make the miserable time easier was always a plus. Moving to the back she grabbed as many items as she could carry until Nino came in through the employee door and helped to break up the load with an empty box he found. Smiling gratefully, Marinette emptied her arms and grabbed a few things she was unable to before. She opened the door for Nino and helped to refill the items, weaving through the other employees as they were making drinks and serving pastries.

“Welcome to The Busy Bean, what can I make fresh for you?” Marinette greeted, finishing a refill of the large cups.

“I’d like a cappuccino with caramel drizzle please.”

“What size for the cappuccino?”

“Medium, I think small goes too quick and the large gets ignored when I’m playing back to back.” Oh, he was early.

“Sure thing!” Marinette squeaked, almost punching in the wrong order but correcting at the last second. She grabbed a medium-sized cup and slid to the side to write on it while her manager comped the drink for the part-time musician. Passing off the cup for someone else to make it, the petite employee moved back to the register. “Next time I recommend a chocolate swirl. it makes it even better.”

“I’ll have to try that next time. Time for me to get to work, thanks Marinette.” The musician smiled softly, just like always, and then made his way to the little stage area they had.

“Still didn’t get his name huh?” Nino teased, knocking Marinette out of her love-struck staring.

“No, and I don’t want to know from you.” The DJ shrugged with a smile and handed off another drink. It had become a thing between the two childhood friends, the mysterious singer was actually Nino’s roommate that he never really talked about by name. It was surprising but humorous and the DJ had fun, too much in the designer’s opinion, teasing her about her crush and not being able to ask him for his name.

“Okay, dudette, but you do realize I’ve been fighting not to say his name anytime we talk, it’s difficult.”

“Free macaroons and I’ll even throw in an eclair a day for Alya.” The raven-haired girl bargained with a sly smile.

“You drive a hard bargain dudette but you got yourself a deal.”

“Welcome to The Busy Bean, what can I get started for you today?” Marinette hip-checked Nino who snorted good-naturedly and moved back to his place in the hot drink line.

The lunch rush came and went, and the stress was eased by the upbeat pop songs the guitarist had been noodling together for the better part of an hour. Marinette had missed her break but was fine as she could take a longer one now that there were only a few people in the coffee shop. Deciding to whip up a similar drink but with sprinkles and roasted marshmallow, she grabbed two medium cups and made her way to the ‘Blue-Eyed Prince’ as Nino teased.

“Hey stranger, thought you could use a pick me up.”

“Well if you’re talking about the coffee then yes, not that I would say no if you were talking about yourself.”

“I uh, what?” Marinette stuttered and froze with her hand outstretched.

“Sorry, Nino has been teasing me about the coffee girls. I take it, you’re not one?I’ll ask for you to make my drinks from now on, it’s hard to play when I’m being flirted with and some girls can’t take no for an answer.” The guitarist sighed, sipping on his drink. Surprise colored his features for a moment, making the coffee worker giggle.

“I put a spin on it, I hope you like it.”

“Sprinkles,” he smiled crookedly and Marinette felt her breath catch, “I like it. Think we can make this my regular drink?”

“When I’m here yeah, I don’t usually work Tuesdays, but now a co-worker owes me and I’ll see you on Fridays to make your signature drink.”

“Cool, I shouldn’t keep you since you get paid to be here and I’m just here to vibe.“

"I had extra time on my break, at least I’m over here and not being harassed by people trying to get their caffeine fix and bugging me when I’m clearly on break at a table. I need to bring a jacket back to work so I can zip it up and not be bothered.”

“Hey I’m here until closer to six, take mine so you don’t get harassed.” He passed over a well loved leather jacket that had a hint of cologne.

“Oh I couldn’t- I mean that’s so nice but I’m so clumsy and I would spill something on it.”

“Nino talked about a friend that works here, she’s a pretty bomb designer and I’ve seen her work on his favorite jacket that she made him and the stains that Chris has put it through. If you make a mess, I have faith she’ll be able to fix it.”

Marinette squeaked as she turned red, and the musician’s knowing look, causing butterflies to run rampant in her stomach. Accepting the jacket, she hid her face and listened to his smooth chuckle.

“Alright I need to play something chill, it seems like the ladies with the short hair cuts like to their chins? They are quite uh-”

“Demanding? Crazy? Rude? A little too Bourgeois?” The shop employee rattled off after removing her face from the leather cover. “Yeah, it’s about that time because the yoga class and spin classes let out.”

“Any requests?”

“I like Jagged Stone but I don’t think they appreciate it. Maybe something mellow?” Marinette mused before Nino waved with a hand signal. “Ah Nino needs help, he’s hopeless with the swirls. Duty calls.”

“When does your shift end?”

“Supposed to be five-fifteen.”

“I’ll play Jagged for you then.”

“Awesome! See ya ‘round Rockstar!” She chirped, nearly skipping her way back to the counter. With a fist bump to Nino, he rattled off the orders that needed swirls, and the designer set to work with the same determination she had when designing for the rest of her shift.

“One caramel macchiato swirl for Rose!”

“Thanks Marinette! Oh hey, I didn’t know Juleka’s brother played here.”

“Wait, brother?”

“No way dudette, you didn’t know my roomie is Juleka’s older brother? And here I thought you knew your blue-eyed prince.”

“Juleka! Oh my gosh that’s so cute! Isn’t it?! Juleka!” Rose squealed, latching onto her girlfriend’s arm and shaking the taller girl a bit.

“That’s my brother, gross.” Came the dry reply.

“I mean if it bothers you I can back off. I don’t even know his name…” Marinette backtracked, not wanting her friend to feel awkward.

“It’s fine, just no details. I haven’t seen him in his birthday suit since we were young and took baths together.”

“Oh my God! Juleka!” For the second time that day Marinette lit up bright red, this time collapsing onto the counter and shielding herself with her arms.

“It’ll be okay dudette, when you remember to ask his name at least.”

“It’s not my fault! We get to talking and he doesn’t seem to mind my crazy runaway brain and lets me figure out my words but, like, not in a rude way. Then I get distracted by his eyes oh my God those should be illegal. And he’s just so nice and funny and talented. By the way, you didn’t tell me you told him about me fixing your hoodie!”

“Hey he’s my roomie and he asked if I got a new one. I told him the truth because you’re awesome.” The DJ shrugged with a grin.

“That’s Luka’s jacket.” Rose gasped, pointing at the leather jacket she was wearing.

“Yeah he let me borrow it, can you give it back to him for me?” Marinette passed over the jacket to Juleka who took it with an odd look on her face but remained silent.

The lack of music drew their attention to the small stage where Luka waved and then started playing a Jagged song, tossing a wink at the ravenette. Marinette flushed again, ignoring the coos from Rose and playful elbow from Nino.

“Huh. he usually hates playing Jagged’s music…”

“Really? I mentioned I liked his music but I wouldn’t have asked if I had known.”

“Go figure.” With that mysterious comment, Juleka shoved the jacket back at Marinette and pushed her towards her brother who finished up the song.

“Hey there Sprinkles.”

“Hey Rockstar, I think this is yours.” Marinette handed over the leather jacket with a shy grin.

“You know out of all the times I’ve played here the last couple of months, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call me by my name.”

“Well, that uh might be because I don’t know it? And Nino teases me all the time calling you my 'blue-eyed prince because I get distracted by your blue eyes, they should be illegal. And you’re so nice when I’m having a bad day or just a busy day, you always smile and listen to me and don’t make me feel stupid for getting words mixed or rambling like I’m doing right now and oh my God!” She wished a hole would appear so she could sink into it.

“Well your eyes are pretty amazing too, they’ve kept me up on more than one night trying to find the music to describe them.” Her eyes met his, a soft smile present on his face, “And since I was too distracted by the pretty coffee girl to give my name, I guess I should fix that. I’m Luka, nice to finally introduce myself.”

“Hi, Luka.” Marinette smiled, the blush dying down to a pinkish color and not a full red.

“So uh would you like something to eat? I’m sure you’re tired of coffee…” Luka packed up his guitar, taking the jacket and putting it over her shoulders.

“Sure but let’s go somewhere else, the best pastries in all of Paris.”

“Wait, if you’re going where I think you’re going you had better bring me back something! I’ve got another hour left!” Nino shouted, amusing the customer he was supposed to be taking the order of.

“Maman won’t mind another mouth to feed if you just want to come over for dinner. I think it’s dumpling night?”

“Marinette you are my best friend! Sorry bro, you’ll understand when you taste the food.” The DJ joked before focusing back on the order he was punching in.

“Did I just get invited to dinner?”

“Yeah but that’s okay, you’ll have to meet my parents at some point. Juleka and Rose are already like their adopted daughters.”

“Oh! Maman Sabine dumplings?! I’m in!” Rose jumped on her toes excitedly, tugging Juleka along to follow the budding couple.

“I’ll text Maman and let her know we need to break out the other chairs and let Papa know we need another batch of macarons and eclairs.”

[rosemary-is-in-pesterquest]

ooh! I have thoughts on Eridan!

okay so, to me, Eridan ties into this thing that homestuck has going on with a lot of its more morally grey characters... the question of how responsible young people are for their negative qualities and actions, and where the age threshold for personal responsibility is.

the characters in homestuck all straddle this line between being young enough to consider them victims of the forces that influence them, while also old enough to understand what they're doing and how it affects others... especially because a lot of these kids come off as really smart for their age, and very precocious. we've all been through phases in our lives that make us cringe, not because we're ashamed of something harmless, but because we recognize that we had absorbed something harmful, and took longer than we wish we had to unlearn it. it could be as simple as being kind of a jerk in a misguided attempt to seem cool, or as dramatic as actually hurting someone in an attempt to remedy one's own insecurities by putting down others to seem better by comparison... but how far can you push that before people aren't willing to forgive? before people abandon the notion that better guidance and more appropriate role models could reform someone? and it's especially interesting when you consider how old homestuck's core audience might've been when they first encountered this story, and how it affected their perception of the characters if they saw them as peers, rather than as children from an adult's perspective.

so to talk about Eridan, I wanna frame this in terms of his classpect, because it actually goes a long way towards contextualizing his behavior. Eridan is a prince of hope, meaning that he destroys hope or uses hope to destroy... and this can be seen in practically every conversation he has. if Eridan is contacting someone, it is because he expects something of them. advice, or consolation, or a solution to a problem he's having... it's always something. when he contacts Kanaya, he wants her to auspistize between him and Vriska. when he contacts Feferi, he wants her to give him encouragement, and maybe date him when he asks. and in every case, the way he demands these things by being rude, whiny, or self pitying, makes people reluctant or unwilling to give him what he expects. he destroys what he hopes to obtain.

it goes deeper than that though. Eridan has absorbed this ideology of sea dweller superiority from living on Alternia... and he actually takes it way farther than it even makes sense to. the aristocracy on Alternia use the lower class for all sorts of menial work that they feel entitled not to have to do themselves. they might have the ability to freely cull individual low bloods for any reason, but eradicating all land dwelling trolls would leave a lot of unpleasant yet necessary tasks with no one to do them. I don't think Eridan actually wants to live in a reality where sea dwellers have to pick up the slack of doing things like sanitation work, or construction or something... but another concept that is heavily tied to the hope aspect is delusion. Eridan is exaggerating. he's trying to agree with Alternia's ruthless class structure so hard that it's actually kind of absurd. but Feferi calls him on that... she says she thinks that he self sabotages on purpose. because he knows, at least in some capacity, that the consequences of getting what he "wants" would actually be really uncomfortable to live with.

so not only is Eridan's goal to destroy... it is also a false goal that he constantly undermines. and all of his waffling between grandstanding and self pity destroys his romantic prospects, which are what he actually seems to want the most.

if you look at the way Eridan pursues relationships, he actually makes a lot of logical sense, but not a lot of emotional sense. he's idealized the act of perfectly filling the relationship requirements of each quadrant. he wants Feferi to be his matesprit, which is purely based on the fact that she's high enough on the hemospectrum to be an appropriate match in terms of status. he wants Vriska to be his kismesis, and Kanaya to be their auspistice, and there are hints that Karkat might've been someone he was considering for moiraillegience, though it wasn't emphasized as much. and there you go! his goal is specific, but it's based more on ideals than on the actual needs and feelings of the people involved, and it's totally self centered... he always wants them to cater to his own needs. the reason why he gets as nihilistic as he does on the meteor, is because all of his endeavors to achieve these relationships are falling through. he feels like he has no hope of mending his existing connections, because he still only sees them in terms of people either giving him, or not giving him, what he wants. but the rest of their race is dead. as the last twelve trolls in existence, they only have each other as romantic options. and as Eridan gets more and more desperate, he gets more and more demanding, which is the exact quality that drives everyone away from him to begin with, and it culminates in him having a "if I can't have what I want then nobody can have any of their hopes either" meltdown.

to backtrack a bit, I wanna reconsider questions such as, when is a kid old enough to be held responsible for their own negative qualities? like... when are you comfortable with ceasing to blame environmental factors? when are they just a bad person? is it after they've refused a certain number of chances to make better choices? when do they reach an age, or level of bad behavior, that makes you think they can't be helped to reform from these negative qualities? where does an adult lose their patience for the idea that a kid is just a victim of their upbringing?

obviously Feferi is Eridan's peer, but these are basically the questions she grapples with when she talks to Eridan. it's like growing up next door to a kid whose parents have some aggressively wrong-headed political stances. as you grow, that kid might mirror their parents' way of thinking... and by the time the two of you are in your teens, it's hard to ignore how much of a jerk that kid is becoming. but you've seen them at every step of their development. you know where it comes from. maybe theirs is the dominant political belief in the community, even if your own parents aren't like that. maybe you wonder if you would've agreed with them if you grew up under their circumstances. you've felt the pressure, but you haven't lived in it like they have, and maybe if they just had the chance to grow up under different conditions, they wouldn't be this way. and you are aware that you could be an influence on them... maybe they need you to help them see another perspective. you always got along so well as kids. when did things even change? and that's kind of where I imagine Feferi is at when we're introduced to her and Eridan. it's a crossroads between believing that you might still matter enough to them to change their outlook, and the persistence of their ingrained beliefs. it's tiring to do that kind of work, over a long period of time, to minimal results. when is the appropriate time to give up? in this way, Feferi's own hopes for Eridan fade over time. she says at one point that she was mainly acting as his moirail so he wouldn't try to underfeed her lusus and kill the land dwellers that way. she's not sure how serious he is, and she can't take that risk. deep down, I'm pretty sure Eridan knew he was never actually going to commit a genocide... but his need to grandstand, and legitimate belief in his caste superiority, had convinced Feferi enough that she still felt obligated to manage him as though he was a real threat.

these characters are thirteen years old. they're right at the edge of childhood and adolescence... right at the age where children aren't quite so innocent. they want to assert themselves. they aren't mature, so there's a lot of responsibility that they still shouldn't be trusted with yet, but they've become aware enough to feel like that's demeaning, and to want to be taken seriously. in an effort to make people acknowledge them without looking down on them, they'll try just about anything. they don't have the experience to know what they're doing yet, so it doesn't always work in their favor, and that's frustrating. you can see bits and pieces of this in homestuck's characters. like with the way they try to paint themselves as an authority on something, or shit talk each other in order to emphasize their own strengths. it's a really interesting theme, because homestuck pushes some of these young characters really far in terms of how bad the things they've done can be, or how much their lived experiences have taught them that what they're doing is acceptable. they can be really self aware in some ways, and come off as really childish in others. it's hard to know what you'd do about them in real life... and your answer changes depending on your own age and perspective. it's a really cool gray area to poke around in, and homestuck is excellent at it.

wtf I like Eridan now

[makeste]

top 20 favorite quirks

okay, but listen, though! it’s exactly what it says in the title. not best quirks, or most useful quirks, or most creative quirks. not even coolest quirks! I did try to take all of these things into consideration when choosing, but honestly? by far the most important factor was, “I JUST THINK THEY’RE NEAT.”

anyway but let me backtrack and post the actual ask.

you’ll note that at no point was I asked to pick twenty of them. I did that all on my own. so here is my list!

20. Solid Air (Tsuburaba)

Tsubaraba Kousei. all-time undefeated grand champion of The Floor Is Lava. or at least he was until Ochako came along. anyway, so this is an extremely nifty quirk with all sorts of utility ranging from defense to helping him get around. it’s super useful for catching bad guys, and apparently the only real limit is his lung capacity. this quirk has so much potential and I love it.

19. Copy (Monoma)

the fact that he can copy his opponents’ powers and use them against them is badass enough, but add in the fact that he can hold up to 3 (or 4??) of them at once -- for as long as ten minutes -- and this quirk starts getting seriously powerful. anyway so one thing you might note as you read on is that although Copy is on my favorite quirks list, AFO is not! and that’s because Monoma’s limits actually make the quirk much more interesting to me, because they force him (and Horikoshi) to get creative. this is a really fun quirk and I would love to see more of Monoma in action. about time we saw him fight some actual villains and not just class 1-A, honestly.

18. Brainwashing (Shinsou)

as with Monoma’s quirk, what really sets this apart from other mind-control superpowers (to me, anyway) is the fact that it has limitations. he can’t just control anyone at random; in order to take them over he has to get them to respond to him somehow. which leads to innovations like the voice-changer, and which as a result has made his battles so genuinely interesting and fun to watch. anyway so I really want Shinsou to hurry up and join 2-A, and for them to just give him his provisional license all “here you go, son” with no testing whatsoever, because we’re past the point of pretending the HPSC is actually responsible these days, and because I really want to see if he can help turn the tides the next time the heroes battle the League.

17. Zero Gravity (Ochako)

I feel like it’s worth noting that I don’t really have any kind of fear of heights or falling or anything like that. and so I can’t really explain why Toga using this quirk on Ms. Curious and her lackeys was hands down one of the most singularly disturbing scenes in the entire manga for me! but it was!! even now I’m wincing just thinking about it. she just lifted them all up and DROPPED THEM and they just FELL and DIED. just like that. holy fucking shit. anyway, so we should all be very grateful that Ochako is super kind and sweet and more inclined towards helping people rather than murdering them. because holy shit. anyways though this quirk is dope.

16. Erasure (Aizawa)

I once said that this quirk was “not very cinematic”, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so wrong about anything in my life. oh, past me. you truly underestimated the dramatic impact of someone with a terrifyingly powerful quirk going in for the kill, only to be all “NANI?!” as they suddenly realize that their powers are no longer working, and the camera pans over to a man with gorgeous floating hair and intense red anime eyes. I owe you an apology, Erasure. you are cinematic AF.

15. Black Hole (Thirteen)

I really wish we got to see Thirteen fight more often. they suffer from the same “too powerful” curse as so many of the other characters and it’s a shame. anyway so Black Hole is cool af and gives me a ton of Miroku/kazaana vibes, which I freaking love. this quirk is lowkey on a Tomura-level of destructive potential, honestly, and yet no one ever talks about it?? Thirteen could literally destroy anything they touched if they wanted to?? imagine if they ever Awakened, you guys. holy shit.

14. Tape (Sero)

this power is so fucking stupid and ridiculous and completely absurd and I LOVE IT. Horikoshi really drew a skinny guy with tape elbows and was all, “so this kid is basically Spider-Man but with tape. I have not put the least bit of logical thought or creative effort into this power beyond that, and I’m not going to, either.” and somehow we all just accepted it. anyway, dubious origins aside, it’s such a versatile ability and Sero has such amazing control over it. it’s offense; it’s defense; he can use it to set traps; he can use it for maneuverability. TAPE ELBOWS CAN DO IT ALL.

13. Outburst (Ms. Joke)

when will it finally be her time. Outburst is one of those powers that sounds super dumb at first, until you really stop and think what the ability to make someone laugh at will could actually DO to people. true uncontrollable belly laughter is a totally incapacitating thing. she’d have people collapsing to the ground and practically seizing up. and good luck using your own quirk to fight back when you’re doubled over struggling to breathe and can’t even see straight because of the tears in your eyes. that’s assuming any of her opponents are even capable of thinking straight long enough to try it. like, this is such a straight up brutal ability and the fact that we have still NEVER SEEN IT is honestly infuriating.

12. Glamour (Camie)

it’s an illusion quirk. of course I have to put it on my list. illusion powers make every battle approximately 100x more entertaining. and what makes this particular power even better is that in any other series, this quirk would have been given to some Tokoyami-esque super serious emo kid. but BnHA went and gave it to Karen from Mean Girls instead. what a fucking power move. goddamn.

11. Black (Kuroiro)

according to BnHA Ultra Analysis, Kuroiro’s Appearing Out of Nowhere skills are rated a 4 out of 6. I still haven’t figured out if this is meant to be a burn on him or not. this kid can ninja in and out of literally any dark object in existence. if it’s nighttime, that means he can basically move wherever he wants to at will. of course he’s skilled at Appearing Out of Nowhere. so tell me then, why is it ONLY a four out of six?? how could he possibly fuck this up?? who was grading him?? DOES HE JUST SUCK. I don’t know, but anyway it’s really funny to me and also I really love this quirk.

10. Transform (Toga)

Toga went and Awakened herself right into the top ten with the reveal that not only can she mimic other people’s appearances, but that while she is transformed, she can actually use their quirks. like excuse me, what?? holy shit??? it is honestly driving me crazy that we’ve only seen this in action once. Transform is basically Plot Twist: The Quirk. I really want to see Toga use it to its full potential and infiltrate U.A. and/or spy on the HPSC and/or murder someone with their loved one’s own quirk. I WANT HER TO GIVE SOMEONE THE MAES HUGHES TREATMENT. I want her to do something so shocking that people ragequit the fucking manga lol. I know I’m always saying the manga isn’t that dark, but this is honestly the one exception where I would freaking love for it to get dark as shit. anyway so yeah. if you want to fuck with people you really couldn’t ask for a better quirk.

9. Creation (Momo)

MACGUYVER: THE QUIRK. an unlimited inventory in the hands of someone brilliant enough to actually utilize it to its full extent. what’s not to love? honestly if it were me with this quirk it would be completely useless. not only would I get hopelessly bored two seconds into trying to memorize an object’s molecular structure or whatever, but even if I DID manage to figure out how to make stuff, I would never know what to do with the stuff, or when to use it. every time a new situation cropped up I would just create a bunch of random objects in a panic. but Momo is so elegant in her problem-solving that she often needs to create only one or two things to come up with the perfect solution for something. basically this is a good quirk that becomes a truly great quirk when placed in the hands of the best possible person in the world to wield it. the quirk is awesome because Momo is awesome, and I fucking adore quirks like that (see: next entry).

8. Permeation (Mirio)

ah, Mirio. the original victim of the “too powerful to be allowed” curse. remember that time he BEAT HALF OF CLASS 1-A IN UNDER SIX SECONDS, you guys.  small wonder Horikoshi couldn’t even make it through one complete villain fight with him before he had to de-quirk the poor kid. anyway, so Mirio makes this quirk look so mind-blowingly awesome that it’s easy to forget what a terrifying and fucked-up power it is in reality. “yeah it makes me blind and deaf and if I’m not careful I’ll fall into the center of the earth or splice myself in two or some shit.” what the actual fuck Mirio. but because he’s worked so hard and because Nighteye trained him so well, he’s mastered the timing to such an insane degree that he could kick Overhaul in the face without harming a single hair on Eri’s body. and honestly, there’s no way I could not love a quirk that gave us a moment like that.

7. Warp Gate (Kurogiri)

unlike SOME OTHER PEOPLE whose names start with Kuro, I would bet you that Kurogiri’s Appearing Out of Nowhere skills are a full six out of six! alas, the top ten of this list is chock full of people whose quirks are so badass that they had to be written out of the story one way or another. with Kuro at large there was technically nothing stopping the villains from just dropping in on U.A. one night to kill All Might, or rekidnap Bakugou, or whatever else they might want to do. and that’s actually a really scary thought though lol so it’s no wonder that Horikoshi was all, “yeah I’ll just have them capture him now.” anyways do you guys remember that one time in chapter 18 when Kuro used Warp Gate to create an endless loop of All Might suplexing Noumu suplexing All Might?? fucking quirks, though. wild.

6. Fiber Master (Best Jeanist)

another badass quirk, another badass quirk-user incapacitated and taken out of the story before their time. Best Jeanist is honestly terrifying. if he wanted to he could immobilize and even strangle and kill pretty much anyone in the world, whenever he fucking felt like it. that alone would be crazy enough, but then add to that that this quirk for all intents and purposes is basically telekinesis. as long as someone is wearing clothing he can move them around however he wants, as we saw in Kamino. basically, everything Hawks can do with Fierce Wings, Jeanist can probably do with his own quirk. AND THAT INCLUDES FLYING, YOU GUYS. the more I think about it the more I think we truly were robbed. I need Jeanist to come back already and fly everyone at Jakku to safety and tie Tomura to a chair with his own cape before proceeding to style his hair.

5. Rewind (Eri)

IT’S MY LIST!! I CAN PUT WHATEVER I WANT, AND IF YOU SAY I CAN’T, I’M TELLING MOM. okay but listen. everyone always rags on this quirk and how stupidly powerful it is, and look, I get it. but isn’t it kind of interesting that everyone is also always speculating over who Eri is eventually going to heal with her quirk? like, fandom is always complaining about how broken it is but at the same time they’re out here hatching all of these wild theories that center around it. and to me that indicates that in truth, this is actually an awesome quirk -- just so long as it’s used right. obviously there have to be some major limitations or else this is just “Fix Everything: The Quirk.” thankfully, Horikoshi did limit it! it’s super dangerous, she has trouble controlling it, and most importantly, it’s ridiculously slow to recharge and so she can only use it once every few months. it’s basically Recovery Girl’s quirk with a bonus slow-replenishing stamina bar that, once charged, allows her to release one ultra-powerful SUPER HEAL special move. and that’s pretty awesome. basically I think this quirk gets too much hate and not enough credit for the additional menu options it adds to the story. it’s interesting and compelling and I can’t wait to see what Horikoshi does with it.

4. Dark Shadow (Tokoyami)

TOKOYAMI WHY IS YOUR QUIRK SENTIENT. Existential Crisis: The Quirk. do quirks have souls?? if you shot Tokoyami with a quirk-be-gone bullet would Dark Shadow fucking die??? if Tomura absorbed Tokoyami’s quirk would Dark Shadow grow out of his back and be all “hey um, who the fuck are you”?? and would Toko’s head turn back into a normal human boy head?? would Dark Shadow look like Tomura instead of a bird shadow?? what even IS Dark Shadow, actually?? obviously it is not just a shadow because shadows can’t punch people or shield people from attacks or pick people up and fly them around. but yet he’s afraid of fire and grows weaker in daylight?? is Tokoyami secretly the strongest character in the entire series?? is there any way I can possibly justify putting this quirk all the way down at #4 instead of #1 where it clearly belongs?? let me answer that question by not answering it and moving on.

3. Explosion (Bakugou)

is the fix in?? is “exploding hands” really a better quirk than a fucking sentient monster man who lives in your belly button and reads your mind and is made of ~darkness energy~ and is your best friend? apparently the answer is yes! to both of those questions. yes the fix is in. I love Kacchan and his quirk is fucking awesome okay. it just never ceases to amaze me how this one single quirk, which really only does one thing, is nonetheless so spectacularly powerful that it allows Bakugou to compete on the same level as the fucking protagonist with all of his godlike super-strength and Main Character Powers and wacky SIXQUIRKS!! shenanigans. in my opinion the coolest thing about Explosion isn’t even its firepower; it’s the way Bakugou’s adapted it to fly around and to boost his speed. I think he legit may be the fastest character in the series right now, or close to it. he’s faster than Iida and Gran Torino and Endeavor. he can keep up with Deku without breaking a sweat. and he knows how to use that speed, thanks to his insane reflexes. add in the fact that this is also without a doubt the most cinematic quirk in the entire series, and I think I’m justified in putting it this high up. and anyway I still put two others up above it so shh.

2. Search (Ragdoll/Tomura)

Hey, What’s That Guy’s Deal: The Quirk. I just really love this one you guys. it’s so fucking useful. Video Game HUD: The Quirk. one hundred people at a time?? locations and weak points?? works even when you’re not looking at the person anymore and have blinked your eyes, unlike CERTAIN OTHER PEOPLE’S weak-ass quirks?? check, check, and check. is it any wonder AFO wanted this? plus it just looks so damn cool. the visual representation of everyone as little stars on a map. Turn On Location: The Quirk. okay look I feel like I’m doing a bad job of explaining why I have this quirk all the way up at number two. it just has this subtle badassness to it, and its introduction after almost two hundred chapters of buildup was just so fucking cool. maybe it’s recency bias?? I don’t even know; all I know is that I love this quirk and want to see more of it in action.

1. Blackwhip (Lariat/Deku)

listen, I was obsessed with this quirk back when it was called “Venom” and was by far the absolute coolest part of the 1990s Spider-Man cartoon series. I’m not just going to suddenly not be obsessed with it just because fandom is mad that Horikoshi gave Deku an additional power beyond just Smashing Stuff. Blackwhip is hands down the coolest quirk, guys. I’m sorry, it just is. it has the coolest name. it had the coolest entrance. it does basically anything you could ever want a quirk to do in battle. it grabs stuff. it Bloops. what more do you want. you’re all just jealous because you wish that you could Bloop too. I know I am. I wish I had a Bloop. anyway so yeah, Blackwhip is the upgrade to Deku’s fighting style that we desperately needed after 200+ chapters of Delaware Smashes and Broken Bones. all his fights are cooler now. he can save more people! he can fight without instantly dying! plus you just gotta love powers that occasionally explode out of control if their user gets all emotional and pissed off about the fact that you insulted his boyfriend. so yeah. Blackwhip at number one! on this list of favorite quirks. not best quirks!! jesus christ. please don’t kill me I have a family.

 so that’s my list! all 3000 words of it. how does this keep happening.

[princessbatears]

Yellow Glow

#Pedros12DaysofChristmas Secret Santa fic exchange for @catfishingmorales​

Lex, my beautiful friend, you are such a treasure! I love seeing you on my dash every day and talking to you often. I hope you enjoy this story about you and werewolf Frankie! -Your secret Santa, Natalie 🥰🎅

Pairing: Werewolf Frankie Morales x Lex ( @catfishingmorales ) Summary: When Frankie comes over to help you put up your huge Christmas tree before the upcoming full moon, you’re not sure why his eyes keep changing color when they look at you Warnings: mild language Words: 1.3k Tags: Were!Frankie, personal werewolf lore, some pining, Lex’s amazing Christmas tree, pizza party A/N: This is a Lex AU of my were!Frankie series

So, so much thanks to my beta @hdlynn​ who helped me make sure this gift is the best it can be 😘

It’s dark when you get off work even though it’s only a little after 5:00. December makes the days feel almost unbearably short. It’s almost the winter solstice, though, and that means the daylight hours will begin to lengthen again.

When you reach your car, you pull out your phone. You’ve got a text from Frankie. Just seeing his name on your lock screen makes your heart quicken.

You open the text. It says: ‘Hey, I got time to help you put your fancy Christmas tree together tonight if you want’

Immediately, you type back, ‘Sure!’ But no, that sounds a little too eager, so you delete and try again, ‘That works for me. You sure you don’t mind?’

You watch the screen. There are the ellipsis of his response, then, ‘No problem. I won’t be able to come over this weekend and don’t want you to have to wait’

‘Pizza?’ you offer, knowing that food goes a long way with most people, but especially Frankie.

‘Always!’

Grinning, you start the drive back to your apartment. As soon as you arrive, you order an XL pizza and quickly give your appearance a quick refresh. You know you’re just friends, but you still want to look your best.

You fix your eyeshadow and eyeliner and add a bit more blush, bringing out the warmth to your brown skin. You also put on a soft blue sweater that hugs your curves in a way that makes you feel sexy and just a little more confident.

When there is a knock on your door, you grab your wallet and hurry to the door to give the driver a tip (you don’t trust corporations to actually give them when they’re paid online). To your surprise, it’s Frankie holding the pizza box with a big grin.

“The delivery gal got here just as I did,” he explains.

“I need to tip her, though!”

“Already taken care of,” he winks as he walks inside past you. You quickly close the door against the chilly air, the scent of pizza wafting through your place.

Frankie sets the box on the kitchen counter before turning to you. His eyes glow a soft yellow. You’ve only seen it a couple times before, but you know it’s because the full moon is coming this weekend. Which is probably why he couldn’t help you with the tree, come to think of it.

When he doesn’t stop staring at you with those eyes, you feel your face getting hot and quickly go to the fridge for drinks. “I got soda and wine,” you offer.

“Soda. My inhibitions aren’t at their strongest right now, don’t like to mix alcohol with that.”

How badly you want to tell him that your inhibitions are super close to going out the window, too. You really, really want to take off his ball cap so you can run your fingers through his fluffy hair. Then, remove his flannel shirt and touch his broad, bare chest.

“You okay, Lex?” he asks, cocking his head. His eyes have returned to their dark brown.

Face heating again, you grab a couple of sodas and offer him one. “Yeah, fine,” you mumble. “Spacing out.”

He chuckles sympathetically. “That’s a real struggle for me right now. I was at work today and got totally overwhelmed by the smell of everyone’s emotions.”

“I can only imagine.” You’re not quite sure what to say. Frankie’s been a werewolf for a couple of years, but you only found out three months ago when he finally trusted you with his secret.

Since then, he’s allowed you to be around him the week before the full moon, the week that his eyes shift to amber, the week he sometimes speaks or acts very strangely, the week he feels vulnerable as his soul prepares to merge with the Wolf’s for one night of every month.

He’s staring at you again with those yellow eyes. What’s he feeling? You want to ask, but don’t quite have the courage. What if it’s something bad?

“You look nice,” he says softly.

That was not what you expected. You spit out the first thing you think of, “The sweater… it’s old.” Smooth. Why couldn’t you just say ‘thanks’?

Frankie pulls the tab back on his can of soda and then grabs a slice of pizza. “My favorite!” he beams, like nothing had just happened.

You also grab a slice and watch happily as he inhales three pieces in minutes. It might be a little thing, but making sure he’s fed, knowing that he enjoys the food you provided, it makes you feel good.

He finishes eating before you, so he stands there, watching you. Nervously, you push your glasses farther up your nose. “I’ve got some cookies if you want.”

Frankie shrugs. “Maybe later.” He’s smiling, his eyes amber yet again.

Finally, you can’t take it. “Are you… is there…” No, no! You can’t ask why his eyes look like that, it’ll make him self-conscious.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, tell me,” he purrs, voice even deeper than usual.

Hoping you don’t sound like a total jerk, you say, “I’ve never seen your eyes turn yellow quite so much. Are you okay?”

Much to your horror, he blushes, looking at the floor. “I’m sorry, I don’t realize it’s happening. It’s why I tend to stay away from people when it’s almost the full moon.”

Dammit, you should have lied about what you were going to say!

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” you backtrack quickly, touching his arm. “But you said it happens when you’re feeling a lot of emotions and I was afraid something was wrong.”

Frankie shuffles his feet, finally looking back at you. His expression is shy. “I’ve been… for a long time…” He stops, fists clenched as he battles with himself.

Your hand squeezes him lightly, reassuringly. He’d already told you he was a werewolf. What could be harder than that? “You can tell me anything, you know that, Frankie.”

Taking a deep breath, he finally smiles. “You’re the funniest, kindest, prettiest, most amazing woman I know. I really, really like you. So much more than you can possibly know. The Wolf does, too.”

Your brain stalls as you realize he’s confessing to feeling the same thing you feel for him.

“That’s why I keep going yellow.” He points at his eyes. “The Wolf’s looking at you. Respectfully,” he adds quickly. “Very respectfully. But we both think you’re the absolute best. I really wanna kiss you right now, but I just ate pizza, so you might not like that.”

“I just had pizza, too,” you breathe before you can stop yourself.

His smile broadens as he steps closer. “You want me to kiss you?”

“I do.”

His solid arms wrap around you in a way that feels completely different from the usual hugs you share. His hands run over your back as he holds you close to him. There’s a pause just before his lips touch yours, giving you the chance to back out. That’s the last thing you want to do.

The ability to think has vanished and all you know are his warm, soft lips, the way he presses against you, how you’re pulling off his cap and actually running your fingers through his hair. It’s even better than you’d imagined.

It doesn’t last as long as you want, but Frankie’s a gentleman and is never going to push any boundaries. When he pulls back, he’s grinning. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Me, too.” You’re breathless, smiling as widely as he is.

“Can I take you on a date next week, after I recover from the full moon?”

You nod excitedly. “Yeah.” A part of you is already panicking about what you’re going to wear, but you force that thought out of your head. Focus on here, on now.

“I can’t wait.” He gives you another little peck on the tip of your nose. “Now, I think I promised to help you set up some fancy huge-ass Christmas tree.”

You laugh, having completely forgotten that’s why he came in the first place. “The box is in my room.”

[forestwater87]

Hey! It's the one who wanted fanfiction writing advice and how to sorta join the fandom. So, I am currently writing a werewolf! au for Gwenvid, and I was wondering if I could ask you something (well, multiple somethings lol)? One, what are things you would like to see in a Gwenvid fic? Two, do you have any advice for writing a good first chapter? Mine is kind of short and not too good, but yours are super good. Three, how would Gwen react to becoming a werewolf? Scared or excited? Thanks!

Oooh, fun! I don’t know if I’m the best authority on this, but I think I have a couple followers who might also have some good insights. Let’s see . . .

Things I personally go feral for in Gwenvid fics:

That UST. Pining, longing, yearning -- whatever you wanna call it, all those little glances at each other then looking away when they get caught staring, getting distracted by a brush of skin against theirs or the other one looking amazing just out of nowhere, standing too close without realizing it and then awkwardly coughing and backing away . . . all of it. These two goobers in love with each other and completely oblivious is just . . . idk, it’s obviously personal preference, but that will-they-won’t-they dance is one of my favorite things about pre-established-relationship Gwenvid, and something I never get tired of. (Also, just saying: werewolf transformations have the distinct side effect of the werewolf waking up partially or completely naked in the forest. It’s a scenario ripe for awkward and/or hilarious situations.)

If they’re in an established relationship already, it’s all about those little domestic things. I mean, there can be domestic things even before they’re dating, because they live together for like 3-4 months out of the year so they have a routine going, but things like one of them keeping the light on for the other without thinking, making coffee/tea and leaving everything laid out just the way the other one likes it, communicating (or even arguing) with just a look, all the casual lil touches of two people so comfortable with each other that it’s automatic at this point. It’s an essential part of fluff that I sometimes feel is overlooked in favor of more dramatic hurt/comfort (which is also excellent, to be clear).

BANTER! It’s not so much a canon thing as a fanon one, but the artist formerly known as Ciphernetics basically established flirty teasing and back-and-forth as a staple of Gwenvid’s charm in their earth-shatteringly beautiful fanfiction (that I can’t link because tumblr softblocks posts with links, but if you look at my blog for like 10 seconds you’ll be able to figure out what I’m talking about), and I think everyone’s writing, including my own, needs more banter. They’re so different, after all; why not have them butt heads in a fun way?

Please please please don’t do NSFW if you’re uncomfortable with it, but there is nowhere near enough of it in Gwenvid-land. Just because we’re wholesome doesn’t mean we can’t also be kinky! (Oh man, I just realized I have no idea how old you are. Uhhhh if you’re not an adult just skip this one on by! Or if you are an adult and this ain’t it. It’s like it wasn’t ever here! Poof! I should probably just delete this, but maybe it’ll awaken a spark of inspiration in someone. Lord knows I haven’t been driving the smut train for a while, so I’m just hoping someone else will do my job for me. Plus Gwen would want me to include this suggestion, especially if there are werewolves involved.)

You know, there’s not a lot of action-hero Gwenvid out there, is there? Most of it’s relationship melodrama and domestic fluff, which I love -- obviously, I write it literally all the time -- but with a werewolf AU you have the opportunity for gratuitous violence, and both David and Gwen have proven they can kick a whole lot of ass and deal out (or take) a lot of pain. If you need two people fighting monsters -- or fighting as monsters -- you could do a lot worse than those two. It’d be a fun change of pace that’d work well with their character dynamic.

Writing a first chapter:

I don’t have a ton of advice here that isn’t pretty common, but the biggest thing is to start in the middle of action. This can range in terms of drama: a camp activity going horribly wrong, a nightmare, maybe even David discovering Gwen’s a werewolf. Your story doesn’t have to go in chronological order, after all, so if you have to backtrack in later scenes or chapters that’s not a bad thing in the slightest! 

It’s much better to start with a really exciting, gripping situation and then backfill in the information that matters than starting off with all that boring worldbuilding and exposition. Don’t get me wrong, that worldbuilding and exposition are necessary, but they’re also like . . . I dunno, salt. It’s essential to the recipe, but no one would say it’s their favorite part of a meal, and having to eat a whole pile of it before they get to the good stuff wouldn’t be enjoyable at all. It’s better sprinkled throughout to add flavor to your story as needed.

I like that metaphor! It’s kinda cliche, but I think it still gets the job done.

So yeah, start with something exciting and know it’s okay for your readers to go, “wait, what the fuck’s going on?” That’s kind of a great thing, actually; it establishes mystery and introduces higher stakes, and just gets your readers going. It’s also more fun to write, which is good! (For example, I just read a really great book call The Chill, which opened with a woman tying a bag over her head, weighting herself down with chains, and throwing herself into a river to “join the work.” Who is this person? What work? Did she know she was going to die -- it definitely doesn’t feel like a suicide, but what else did she think was going to happen?? I’m instantly on board, even if the next few scenes were focused on establishing exposition and actually kinda boring. It’s all about that hook.)

To be fair: I don’t do this all that often in my own fics. For every “starting the story with a botched assassination attempt,” we have “starting the story with waking up.” It’s important to have a first chapter that matches and sets the tone of your story; if it’s going to be a rip-roaring action/horror adventure, you’re going to want to start things off with all that stuff I mentioned before. If you’re writing cute fluff, there’s nothing wrong with your in media res chapter opening being an adorable fluffy scene. Compelling doesn’t have to mean scary or action-packed, but more serve as a teaser for what the rest of the story is going to bring. I’ve been leaning on action or thriller stuff because a werewolf AU implies some level of creature-feature monster spookiness, but any tone works as the start of a fic, as long as it’s not “here’s a laundry list of the universe’s rules,” because that’s boring and you can weave that into the rest of your story later. 

As for your other comment, short isn’t bad at all; in fact, if you want to make your first chapter a really short, compelling scene, that can be a great way to draw people in. But I also am a proponent of writing until it’s done, and couldn’t stick to a page or word count to save my life. My chapters are all over the place, and sometimes I’ll randomly chop them up if I feel like it’s going too long but usually I don’t bother. The more you write, the more you develop a feel for when the story, chapter, or scene needs to end, but as you’re starting out you might wanna snag a beta to help you find that stopping place.

Wow, this is long! Awkward! Sorry about that! I’ll make this last one short:

Gwen the werewolf:

I can’t imagine any universe in which she isn’t psyched as hell. I think she desperately wants to be more special and important than she is, and having a sexy monster superpower would only be a good thing to her, regardless of whatever its drawbacks may be. She might get tired of certain aspects of being a werewolf as the honeymoon phase wears off, but in the beginning I think she’d be excited and maybe even relieved.

Anyway, I hope that helps! It’s a lot of rambling, but I imagine you’re used to that by now. :)

[chaoticookie-autonomous]

Under Your Spell

Day 6 - AU

AU: Drive (2011 Film) with some of my own twists; Star Wars-verse(ish). No space magick, Jedi, or Sith. Pairing: Maul x Móni (OC) Rating: T Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: So... did a thing. Hope you enjoy :]

_________________________________________ 

A small window framed a dark location covered in smog and sweating buildings, often a flash of bright lights from speeders zooming past was about all the color that splashed onto the bleak picture. It was also the bedroom’s only view, the resident never bothering to cover up the gaping reminder of a life she had to force herself to wake up every morning to.

Durmónia tied her thick head of black curls on top her head, unable to pull back the stray strands over her forehead. She checked her dark features in the bathroom mirror and noted the black circles forming under her eyes--their sunset hues dimmed under the poor lighting. For a moment she considered hiding her weariness with some layers of make-up but decided it wasn’t worth the risk of being late.

Outside the room was the chattering voices of the holonews coming from a hologram displayed before a theelin teen in a hoverchair. He stared on without interest in what was being said, his thoughts far away from the drab apartment.

“Kyp,” Durmónia returned him to the present. “Want me to bring you something back from the diner?”

He angled his hoverchair to face her better, his blue eyes blinking slowly with a hardship no one his age should be allowed to carry.

“No. I’m okay. Betts is making something for me right now.”

Coming around the kitchen was a service droid on a single wheel holding a tall cup that gave off a whiff of fruit juices Durmónia was skeptical about.

“Where did you get those ingredients from?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” was its terse response before holding the smoothie’s straw to Kyp’s mouth.

With no time to argue, she gathered a double-breasted jacket with faded stains off a chair and slung a bag over her shoulder.

“Okay. I gotta go,” she pressed a kiss to Kyp’s lavender forehead then smacked Betts’ metal head. “We’re having a talk about stealing when I get back.”

Checking the chronometer, she cursed under her breath and sped down the hall of doors and glowing numbers to the lift at the end of it. The seconds it took to reach the garage floor, irritation igniting her nerves when it halted for other residents, was endless. At its final stop, she slivered her way out the moment the door spun open and sped walked to her landspeeder, passing the silent neighbor who was making their way to the lift.

His crown of ivory horns curved out prominently against the crimson skin where black tattoos marked every section of his bare skull, face, and neck. She glanced his way a moment and caught drops of golden amber peeking back at her as well.

+

A hand smacked a panel with buttons bent and faded from the number of times it had been pressed for an order ready at the window. Within the steam of food in the clamorous kitchen, a balosar female sigh in aggravation.

“Hey!” she pressed the panel several more times. “Get the kriffing food! Stupid droid…”

“Shysha, give them a second,” Durmónia came around and plated sizzling, charred meat. “Their processors are as old as some of the freeze packages of food still packed in the storeroom.”

“You know you can do better than work in some backwater diner, right?” Shysha rubbed one of her antennaepalps with discomfort from the oil spitting at them. “Only reason why this place is still open is because of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Durmónia finished sautéing a pan of multicolored vegetables and distributed them on several plates, “not easy to find work when you have an extensive criminal record you’ve been falsely accused of.”

“Thanks to that we got less shoot outs and bar fights in here.”

Durmónia broke into a laugh, “Is that the real reason why I’m being kept here?”

“Secret’s out.”

“And here I thought it was because of my charming personality.”

Shysha raised her brows, “Charming isn’t quite the word I would use to describe you.”

The order she had placed on the window was still being warmed under the heat-panel and slammed the panel prompter again.

“Droid!”

“I got it.”

Durmónia checked for the table number on the console and took the plate to the customer who had their blue hands patiently folded over their face. He moved aside his wide-brimmed hat to make space for the meal.

“Sorry, Bane,” she met the striking, red gaze meant to keep bystanders at bay. “It’s on the house.”

He waved a hand of indifference and spoke with grains in his throat and the support of his breathing tubes, “I’ll pay what needs to be paid.”

Unconvinced, she grinned at a proposition, “Ale on the house?”

“Two,” he agreed easily.

Durmónia squinted, “You didn’t sabotage our droid did you?”

“What gave you that idea?” he hid a coy smirk by taking a bite into his meal.

“I’m only allowing it this one time as a thank you for taking your bounty outside the restaurant and not shooting up the place the other day.”

“Much obliged, ma’am.”

Past the transparent pane that extended across the diner’s front face, a speeder bike parked alongside the other vehicles and a male with a horned helmet and a black, leather jacket swung off the seat.

“Is it our steel-legged regular?” Cad Bane observed. “What does the fellow order here anyways? Don’t think I’ve ever seen him eat.”

Durmónia followed the masked male, the neon lights of the diner’s sign reflecting off the visor.

“Tea.”

Bane hummed with mild interest and remained silent when the being with crimson skin removed his helmet and sat himself down.

“He’s a strange one.”

“You’re one to talk,” she scoffed. “You order the same thing every week too.”

“He wears the same jacket every night he comes here,” he explained. “New markings on it each time. New bruises. Carries no blaster. And he’s no bounty hunter. I would know.”

“That’s quite a study. You thinking of asking him out on a date?”

He released a grainy growl, “Get me my ale. Two of them.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Her eyes followed a droid hovering to the zabrak’s table and taking its order before returning to the kitchen where there was a single order on the console’s display.

“Same thing?” Shysha came up behind her.

“Same thing,” Durmónia confirmed.

+

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Three in the morning and her feet hurt from being on them all day without taking a single break, but her speeder decided to steam and made strange noises when she started it. She opened its hood and was engulfed with black fumes she waved and coughed at then stared at the coils, cylinders, and wires as if they were her greatest enemy.

“Okay,” she calmed herself and started to reach for the first thing Kyp had taught her from memory. But she yelped in pain at her burning fingers.

“Kriff!”

In the corner of her eye was a shadow looming beside her and on impulse slid her foot forward and brought a fist into an undercut that was stopped with ease by a leather bound hand.

Amber eyes gleamed with mild amusement at her hand in his, then fell away to the somber exterior she always saw on him in the sparse seconds of their silent interactions.

“Sorry!” she returned her hand. “Didn’t know—didn’t hear you. You’re so quiet.”

Durmónia cleared the nerves building in her throat at the proximity and catching the details of his tattoos for the first time; how well the designs accentuated his features.

“Do you require assistance?” his voice rumbled smoothly from his chest.

“Ah,” she rubbed her bare arm, the uniform discarded long ago to release the kitchen’s heat. “A bit. Not good with machines. They have a vendetta set out against me.”

“Let me take a look.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to,” she held her hands up. “It’s really late and I can take the train home.”

Halfway through her protests he maneuvered his way to the speeder and dug his hands into the engine.

Durmónia scratched her head in thought, considering several times to push him out of the way and be more direct about it being alright to take the train. However, she lost herself in his tinkering, the knuckles moving under the fabric of his gloves in the low light of the neon sign which also reflected a helix earring.

“You need more light?”

“No. Almost finished.”

“That was fast.”

“A temporary fix to get you home. You will need to have it looked at.”

“I know someone who’s pretty savvy with this stuff. Keeps telling me to just get a new one.”

“It is...,” he faded as he straightened himself up, “not a good speeder.”

“The model?”

“This one specifically.”

“No need to be so harsh,” she patted the vehicle. “It’s been through some tough times.”

“Its time has ended.”

Durmónia barked a laugh, “Alright. Well…” What am I thinking? “To thank you for your troubles would you like to come over for tea? I have your favorite kind.”

He paused halfway to shutting the hood.

“I mean—,” spurts of panic elevated her heart rate and backtracked. “I mean, maybe not now. It’s super late and you probably have other things to do and I take stuff from the diner all the time, so I have a bunch of other stuff at home, not just that tea specifically. Plus, I don’t live alone and—”

“Now is fine,” he closed the lid then turned from her being able to see his face. “I will see you there.”

It wasn’t until he reached the speeder bike and placed on his helmet did Durmónia stumble into the driver’s seat and whirred the speeder’s repulsorlift to life.

+

The lift’s glowpanels flickered when they raised to their floor.

Durmónia softly chewed on her lower lip, taking in the disciplined posture of the being beside her who also stared intently ahead of them.

“I’m Móni.”

His rigid form softened, the shoulders dipping in just the slightest, and showed her a bit more than his profile.

“Maul.”

+

Steaming, black liquid poured through a strainer and into a cup, which was then set on the kitchen’s island that divided the living area. Durmónia did her best to not stare at the black diamonds on his knuckles when he grasped the beverage in his hands.

He didn’t take a seat, instead standing while he took a sip.

“How long you been on Coruscant?” she leaned back against the sink, steadying the quake in her legs.

“Several years.”

“So, only relatively new here in the building.”

“Yes,” his attention was taken away to subtle movements behind a closed room. “You live with a boy.”

She nodded to Kyp’s room, “Yeah, he’s been with me a year before you moved in.”

“Related?”

“Uh,” Durmónia shifted her weight with discomfort and decided to start cleaning the single cup Kyp drank his smoothie out of before she left. “No. I’m a friend of his father who’s in prison. Taking him in until he gets out.”

The cup striking the counter hit her ears louder than the running water, and from over her shoulder caught a scowl pouring into his cup. Before he could open his mouth to speak his apologies, she dropped the dishes and dried her hands on her pants.

“What do you do?”

This time, it seemed it was her turn asking the wrong questions when he searched for an answer to give off to the side.

“I am a contractor for a businessman,” he chose his words carefully.

“Oh,” Durmónia felt she had broached a taboo subject which pushed her curiosity. “What kind?”

Maul remained unmoving, a shadow of anger casting over his features; hardening his appearance into something wild.

Cad Bane’s warning echoed in her head, inciting her to scan the leather jacket that was frayed at the ends and had darkened splotches of carbon scoring. There was also a decolorization on his cheek bone she recognized from experience what the cause was.

He downed the remainder of the tea and gently set it aside.

“The kind that provides my services to those in need of it,” the helmet slid off the counter and under his arm. “You should rest.”

Before Durmónia could try to act like a good host and show him out, the area littered with articles of clothing she really should have put away when she woke that morning, Maul already had his finger to the door panel.

“Thank you for the drink.”

“Not a problem. Hard to pass on a free drink, right?” 

Maul inclined his head some, unable to hide the deep furrow of concern on his brow ridge. 

Not wanting to end the night on a sour note, Durmónia sucked in a deep breath.

“See you at the diner again?”

He stopped just past the doorframe and faced her.

Their similar height forced them to look directly at the other, a spark igniting in between the distance.

How long had she watched the unnamed zabrak? From the moment he moved-in to his constant appearance at the diner. Never eating, only taking the same order while staring past the customers and the muggy moisture that fogged Coruscant’s lower levels. Always deep in his world, never been seen with another or held any interactions with another lifeform, except when she caught his stray glances into the kitchens.

But now the mysterious rider had a name to the face, and he had become a reality she could possibly touch and not this unattainable being. And when the lines of his discomfort smoothed away, she melted into the kindness that rose on the corner of his lips.

“Yes.”

She watched him off, the joints of his cybernetics whirring past several doors down the hall, until he reached his apartment.

“Who was that?”

Durmónia jumped at Kyp hovering close behind her.

“A friend,” she recovered from the scare then gathered her clothes from the couch and chairs.

“That’s good.”

She faced the teen with a pile in her arms, “Good?”

“Yeah,” he maneuvered the hoverchair to the couch and motioned his eyes to the space behind it. “You haven’t hung out with anyone since I’ve been here.”

“That’s…,” a bra was recovered she thought had been lost forever. “It has been awhile.”

“Shouldn’t stop your social life on my account. Also, if you’re worried about how I feel about it because of Dad, don’t be. I know you two haven’t really been together for some time now.”

Durmónia spun on her heel, “Alright. What do you want?”

Kyp hovered back to his room, hiding his victory, “I get to bring a friend over too.”

“I never said you couldn’t bring him over.”

“Yeah, but,” he gave a dramatic sigh, “didn’t want to make you feel like a third wheel.”

“How considerate of you. Little monkey-lizard,” she paused at pulling out a pair of shorts from under the couch. “Wait a second. Maul isn’t that kind of friend.”

“Alright,” Kyp didn’t sound convinced. “Tell me that when you’re not actually cleaning the apartment you haven’t touched in months.”

She clicked her tongue at him and carried the high stack to her room, “Go to bed. And tell Betts I haven’t forgotten her recent escapades.”

“Night, Móni,” he chuckled.

Durmónia collapsed on her bed, breathing in the rush still thrumming in her veins from the encounter and hugged a pillow to bury her grin into.

Her grip loosened when she recounted Maul’s possible occupation, though. How it could affect her life. Kyp’s life. If it was something that should be pursued.

She undid her hair and massaged the scalp under the thick mass of curls from the main dilemma at hand. How she had been completely trapped under his spell.

_________________________________________

A/N: I will be writing Maul’s POV for the SWPOC week for coded characters of color. As for the story itself.. depending on how many notes the fic gets, may or may not continue with this.

Thanks for reading!