#DO NOT GET ME STARTED ON CAPTAIN HOLT

[sstar-ggirl]

I love these sad gay old men so much😞💔

[lenacosse]

In a world of boys, he’s a gentle man

pairings: Jake Peralta x female reader

warnings: Men being men. Angst with happy ending.

word count: 2.6k

summary: You’re having a hard time at work, things are stressing you out and you’re at a crossroad in your relationship with Jake but he’ll always fix his mistakes.

———————————————————————

The blaring of your obnoxious alarm fills your ears. Ripping you from your sleep for another day of work, another day of men undermining you, another day of unsolved crimes.

You reluctantly drag yourself out of your bed and get ready. To make matters worse you and your boyfriend Jake were fighting- you wanted him to move in but his fear of commitment made him laugh the topic off and diminish your feelings. You understood his issues, but it wasn’t fair. So you told him you needed space, and surprisingly he hasn’t contacted you yet. Not that you’re necessarily upset about that, you had mixed feelings.

You arrive to work at 9:12am. And there stands holt an eyebrow raised at you. You sigh and begin.

“I’m sorry sir. I got stuck in traffic.”

“So you’re the only one of my detectives late because of traffic, even though you live closest to the precinct.” Holt gives you a stern look and you just nod and walk into his office. He follows you in and shuts the door, you take a seat.

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

“I appreciate the apology. But I’m worried about you (Y/L/N), you’re one of the finest detectives in the precinct yet you cannot unsolve simplest of cases?”

“I know. I just have a lot going on right now.”

“Well I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to take your cases and put you onto paperwork tasks. I understand it won’t help but it’s protocol.”

You just nod and exit his room, not looking where you’re going you walk right into Hitchcock who spills his coffee all over you. You take a long breath and look right at him. Violent outbursts weren’t your thing, but the stupidity of the situation is making it hard not to punch him in the face.

“Would you watch where you’re going!” You storm off into the women’s bathroom to dry your shirt off. A worried Amy follows you in.

“(Y/N)? Are you okay?” Amy asks, slowly moving towards you where you stand drying your coffee stained blouse.

You look at Amy and can’t help the tears that are filling your eyes. “I’m sorry i’m fine. It’s not big deal.”

Amy puts a hand on your arm, giving you a reassuring smile. “I know you’ve been stressed recently, and I’m sorry that your cases have been reassigned. But think of it as a break. Now you can have time to think.”

You nod and offer her a smile. Amy was undoubtedly your best friend, she had a way of understanding your feelings and you appreciated that more than you could explain.

“Thank you Ames. you’re amazing.” You and Amy share a hug before she leaves the bathroom. You dry your shirt by which time you’ve collected your thoughts. Allowing you to go back out there with a clear head and better intentions.

Walking back to your desk you get a few reluctant glances, you know it’s bad when people look at your like you’re Rosa. Half way through your first paper work task you get a short tap on your shoulder, you turn around to see Jake. He looks worn down, not as enthusiastic as usual. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a little bit bad, your aim was not to upset Jake when you said you wanted space, but to give yourself time to think. Which you haven’t even had a chance to do yet.

“I brought you a coffee.” Jake says, it was strange to see him so… calm? The main reason you agreed to go out with Jake was because he made you laugh. Because being with him was easy, you didn’t have to change yourself to be with him and that was all anyone could ask for. But the last few days he has been indifferent, you couldn’t help but blame yourself.

“Thank you.” You smile and take the coffee from his hands. Jake nods and starts to walk away, he glances back at you. Continues to walk, glances back again then walks back to you.

“Can.. we talk later? I know you want space but I hate this. I feel bad and it’s just..”

You cut him off with a sympathetic look. “Jake..” you begin, your tone flat.

“Yeah. sorry.” He walks away, this time not looking back.

You sigh and look to your left where Charles is sitting shaking his head and wiping his eyes. You furrow your brows at him and he takes that as an invite over. He walks over to your desk, his shoulders slumped.

“Can I help you Charles?”

“God. I’m so worried about you and jake. These last few days have been utter hell. I haven’t felt this helpless since Elenor and I divorced. I’m so upset I can’t even eat my stake tartare.”

“Maybe that’s for the best Charles, sounds absolutely disgusting.” You shake your head in disgust, “as for me and Jake we are grown adults and can sort it ourselves. Don’t stress.”

“That’s impossible! I’ll talk to Jake. I know how to solve the issue, a nurturing shower where he tenderly washes your hair with lavender shampoo.”

“Seriously?! Go back to your desk.” You shoo him away with your hand. Accepting defeat, sometimes you feel bad for dismissing Charles, but not today.

By lunch time you made a reasonable dent in your paperwork. You glance over to Jake, he’s doing paperwork too. But nothing is distracting him, not even the fact that captain Holt cracked a smile, at least someone’s in a good mood.

“Come on get your stuff we’re going to get lunch.” Rosa says standing in front of your desk with her arms crossed. Behind her is Gina.

“This doesn’t mean I care about you by the way girl. I need a break from my endless paperwork.”

You look over to Gina’s desk and roll your eyes, she had two files sitting there. “Wow I couldn’t imagine it. Is Amy coming?”

“It was her idea to bring you to lunch, then she got out her colour coordinated file of conflict resolution to help you lighten up. So I told her the wrong place, being around nerds is not what I need right now. Poor Amy sitting alone with nothing but her folder.” Gina shrugs.

You grab your jacket and go out with Gina and Rosa. You go to a cafe near the precinct, the cafe echoed with small talk and coffee pots brewing. It was peaceful compared to the loud precinct, the constant keyboard clicks and nonsense talk could of easily driven you mad.

“Damn I think you ruined Jake’s life, he’s a serious depresso these days.” Gina starts.

“I did not ruin his life. I needed space.”

“Why? Did his immaturity get the better of you?” Rosa questioned, you were slightly surprised at her input. Usually an outing with Rosa entails complete silence.

You sigh taking a sip of your drink. “I wanted us to move in together. He brushed it off saying there’s no need. So I told him I needed space from him and time to think, I feel bad sure but I don’t know what to do. It feels like he doesn’t love me enough to work through these issues.” You swallow back the lump in your throat.

“Mmkay well not to give you a compliment but Jake does love you.” Gina retorts. Rosa nods in agreement.

“You always try to get me to talk about my feelings, so take your own advice and go talk to him.” Rosa added.

“I don’t know what to say, we’ve been together for almost two years and it feels like we’re capped at the newly established relationship part.”

“I think that’s enough relationship talk. Who do you think we are, Amy Santiago? No.” Gina scoffed, as she did the food arrived. You sit with your friends eating lunch and listening to Gina talk about her upcoming dance competition and her love for Beyoncé.

———————————————————————

“Thanks for lunch.” You smile at Gina and Rosa as you sit back at your desk.

“Yeah whatever you’re welcome.” Rosa shrugs. You continue with your work, peacefully getting through your tasks with your mood peaking by the minute.

“(Y/N) can you give these files down to officer Smith?” Your sarge Terry asks, you get the files off his desk and get into the elevator to go downstairs.

It was no secret that the officers downstairs were dicks. They didn’t like you, especially officer Smith as you rejected him years ago. Ever since then he’s been making remarks about you attempting to piss you off, this has been applied to Jake as well because he is your boyfriend. Right after stepping out of the elevator you hear a wolf whistle coming from officer Smith. you roll your eyes and walk to his desk handing him the files.

“A present for me? You shouldn’t have.”

You ignore his words and explain the contents of the files, he doesn’t seem to be even paying attention but you didn’t care. That was until he piped up.

“How come you’re giving me files and not Gina?” You go to speak and he puts his finger to his mouth silencing you. “Don’t tell me the nine nine’s lousiest detective has been placed on desk duty.”

“It’s absolutely none of your business. But even so desk duty is much better than being stuck as a first rate officer for eight wasteful years.”

“Ah typical (Y/L/N) being a bitch when she gets her feelings hurt.”

“You’re pathetic. Don’t you get bored of being a dick?”

“You’re Goddamn insufferable. Just shut the fuck up and clear off.”

“Gladly. When you get off your ass for the first time today make sure to leave these files back.”

With that you walk away, but the cruel words that he shouted after had you clenching your fists and unwillingly crying in the elevator. That man knew how to get under your skin and you hated him with a burning passion. As you walk out of the elevator you wipe your eyes trying to mask the fact you’ve been embarrassingly crying. And once again you collide with someone. Their hands steady you by grabbing your shoulders. You sigh and look up, seeing Jake with a concerned look plastered on his face.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” You scoff as if you’re offended by the accusation.

“What happened?”

“Just Officer Smith being a dick.” You mumble.

His thumb lightly brushes a stray tear from your eye, you unwillingly melt into his touch, it’s warm and makes you feel safe.

“Whatever he said to you is irrelevant. He’s the biggest jerk ever. Don’t stoop down to his level and listen to what he has to say. You’re worth so much more than that.”

“Thank you Jake.” You run your thumb over his knuckles, a soft smile apparent on your face. Jake squeezed your hand three times, and you return the gesture. His face immediately brightens up, your eyes meet and you find yourself getting lost in his.

You hear a clearing of a throat, you look to your side seeing captain Holt stood with him arms crossed. You immediately drop Jake’s hand and he lets go of your shoulder. You both go back to your own desks. Today has made you realise talking to Jake is the best solution, it was only making you both miserable being apart. So you write him a note reading: ‘want to come over later?’ You throw it at him and it hits him in the head.

You watch his reaction to reading it. He scribbles something back on the page and throws it in your direction, but unluckily it hits Holt right in the face as he walks past your desk. You watch Jake’s eyes widen like a deer in headlights as he quickly looks down and pretends to be writing.

“Who on earth threw that?!” Holt rages. Everyone looks up from their desks yet no one takes accountability. Holt picks up the paper and reads it out. “Want to come over later? As long as we can watch die hard. (Ps. that shirt you’re wearing looks hot af)”

Your face turns a deep crimson as you look down at your desk, refusing eye contact. Everyone is quiet, mostly likely mentally scarred by the note. until Charles pipes up.

“WOOHOO!” He yells. “my dream couple are back. Did take my advice Jakey?”

“No Charles. I did not spoon feed her duck soup!”

“Gosh it’s a miracle things worked out.” Charles replied. You look over to Amy who looks just as disgusted as you from Charles’ statement.

“You two my office. Now.” Holt says whilst walking back to his office.

Jake follows behind you into Holt’s office, you both take a seat as does Holt. He does not look happy, or so you assume. He was difficult to read.

“Today started wonderfully. Everyone had work done. I even cracked a smile.” Holt starts. “However you two acting like teenagers is ridiculous! Throwing notes to each other like you’re in middle school?”

“(Y/L/N) started it.” Jake shakes his head in dismay. “She’s such a child.”

“Shut up Peralta.” You smack his arm, making him pull a classic face at you. You roll your eyes and cross you arms looking back at your captain.

“If you two can’t act mature then I’ll have to come up with a plan to keep you apart.”

You both mutter a sorry and he dismisses you. Of course the second you step out of his office you look at Jake and the both of you burst out laughing.

“What did I just say!” Holt shouts out, you both stop laughing and immediately go back to your desks.

———————————————————————

Your door knocked and you went to answer it. standing there is Jake with flowers, a tiny teddy bear and a bag full of snacks. You smile and let him in, letting him know the pizza is on its way.

“For you my lady.” Jake says in a God awful posh accent. You take the flowers and other things from him. You find yourself blushing at the thought of him buying you these things.

“Well aren’t you just a gentleman.” You kiss his cheek, he takes your chin in his hand and moves your face to look at him. Your foreheads touch and he leans in to kiss you, the kiss is tender and loving. You run your free hand through his hair and slowly pull back.

“I’m sorry for not taking things seriously.”

“It’s okay.”

“No I was being an idiot. I love what we have, and of course I want to move in with you. But that freaked me out and I was unfair. I want you to know that I would do anything for you. I want this for us, I want to come home with you every night, I want to wake up next to you every morning. I’m serious about you, I should have just told you that from the start. but I messed things up and to think that I almost ruined us-“

You shut him up by kissing him, you feel his smile against your lips. His hands go to your hips pulling you closer. You slowly pull away and he pulls you into a hug. The scent his cologne fades all the worries and doubts, it was simple. Jake was the only possible person you ever wanted to be with, and things would work out because you both were dedicated to making it work.

“Thank you.” You slowly pull back and stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“Okay I’m glad that worked out because I already sold my apartment.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course you did.” You tease.

The pizza arrives and the two of you lay on your couch together, eating pizza and watching die hard for the thousandth time. At this point you swear you could recite the script. But if it makes Jake happy then it makes you happy.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

hi! could i request a rosa diaz fic where rosa has a really awful stomachache while she’s at the precinct, but she doesn’t want to admit she doesn't feel good. she keeps trying to work until reader eventually pulls her aside and rosa opens up and tells reader (rosa and reader aren’t dating yet). then reader brings her home and they get all cozy, and reader stays until rosa feels better. at the end rosa finally admits she likes reader and they kiss and its all very fluffy and sweet. tysm!!

Hey, friend! Hope this is what you were looking for. 🥰 This one took me a little longer than usual, but I'm really pleased with how it turned out. And for all you Rosa Diaz fans, get ready because I've got a lot of Rosa requests in my inbox! —illdowhatiwantthanks

Just Playing

Rosa Diaz x fem!reader Warnings: explicit language, cops (duh, but they don't do any cop things), mentions of periods, period pain, implied sex Word count: 2.9k

Summary: You take Rosa back to her apartment after she has a rough day at work thanks to period pains. But you never could have seen where the evening would take you.

Rosa was nearly bent double as she stood at the podium, reading notes from a clipboard on a new drug ring they’d be investigating over the next several weeks. Her teeth were gritted, and she looked for all the world like she could kill someone. Well, she looked more like she could kill someone than usual.

You were good at reading Rosa, better than the rest of the squad. Maybe because your job allowed you more observation time; you were an officer, sure, but you didn’t carry a gun and you didn’t police the streets. You were their digital analyst, doing your own investigations online and finding information for the squad to use in their investigations. As a result, you had a lot of time in the precinct.

You were quieter than the others, more reserved, more observant. You knew that Jake got loud when he got insecure. You knew that simply telling Amy she was doing a good job was enough to stop a spiral in its tracks. You knew that Captain Holt had a fondness for candy canes, so you kept some in your desk drawer all year round, just to pull one out when it seemed like he needed a pick-me-up. But you knew Rosa best of all.

You’d be lying if you said you watched Rosa for solely platonic reasons. She was pretty. She was smart. She worked hard, and she cared about people–no matter how much she tried to act like she didn’t. Best of all, you could make her smile. No one else made her smile. After your first month or so on the job, she started talking to you. At first you were taken aback. Why was she being nice to you!? Why was she approaching you at all!? Rosa didn’t do small talk. She didn’t do politeness for the sake of being nice. It had to be that she actually liked you. You were flattered. As far as you could tell, Rosa didn’t like many people.

She especially didn’t like people today. She was clearly not okay. And you weren’t the only one who could tell.

“Any questions?” Rosa asked, finishing up her presentation, and pressing a hand over her abdomen.

Jake raised his hand and Rosa rolled her eyes.

“What, Jake?”

“Are you feeling okay?”

She glared at him. “Why, fuckface? Do I not look okay?”

“No, no!” he squeaked, hands up in defense. “You look great. Everything’s great. Carry on.”

You fiddled around in your bag, waiting for everyone else to leave the room before approaching Rosa, who leaned heavily on the podium, eyes closed.

You approached her cautiously. After all, Rosa was known for her explosive temper. She’d never exploded at you, but there was a first time for everything you supposed.

“Are you really?” you asked quietly.

“Hmm?” Rosa grumbled, inhaling sharply.

“Feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Her voice was decisive, rough.

You lifted your eyes to study her face. When she finally looked at you–her expression pained, exhausted, embarrassed–you knew. She was not okay. The fact that she’d let you see that she wasn’t okay underlined just how not okay she was.

“What’s going on?” Your voice was low, your posture casual so that no one observing would be able to tell you were concerned about her.

“Cramps.” Her cheeks reddened a bit, and you nodded. She didn’t need to say anything else. You got it. Any woman would get it.

“Why don’t you go home?” you suggested.

“I can’t,” she said tersely, glancing into the squad room to make sure no one was watching you two.

“Rosa,” you scolded her. “It’s not gonna kill you to go home an hour early.”

“No, I mean, I can’t.” She grabbed your arm, and gently pulled you aside to where no one could see. Your stomach did little somersaults, and you felt bad for getting excited when Rosa was clearly in pain. “I tried getting on my motorcycle. It felt like I was being stabbed in the fucking uterus. I’m just gonna call a cab once everyone else heads out.”

“Well, that’s dumb,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Rosa raised her eyebrows at you. It’s true, you weren’t normally that blunt. “I’ll take you home. You shouldn’t have to stick around here just being in pain. That’s stupid.”

“No, Y/N, don’t need to do that. I’ll be fine.” She started walking away, and this time it was you who grabbed her.

“It’s fine, Rosa. I don’t mind. I’m done with my work for the day. We’re friends, right?”

Rosa looked at you long and hard, like she was thinking through a problem, before nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Okay, then.” You threw your bag over your shoulder. “This is what friends do.”

You started to walk out of the room, swinging your keys around your finger before stopping and turning back to Rosa. “It’ll, uh, be a minute, though. Just so you know. I parked… pretty far away.”

She grinned at you. “Yeah, I heard about that. You don’t use the precinct lot?”

“No! You have to pay for it! I’m not paying for parking at my job.”

“So where do you park then?” Rosa asked, sitting heavily in a chair and spinning.

You shrugged. “Wherever there’s street parking.”

“I’ll give it to you, Y/L/N,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re committed.”

You shot her an awkward, two-finger salute before walking out of the precinct and starting the several-block trek to your parked car.

You were kind of hanging out with Rosa tonight! Sure, she wasn’t feeling well. Sure, she might just be desperate for a ride home. But it counted… right? You’d parked just a block away from a bodega and silently thanked this morning’s parking gods. You picked up an assortment of things, some you knew Rosa liked, some that you’d want when you were on your period. And then, at the last moment as you waited to check out, you grabbed a bouquet of baby’s breath. It always made you feel better to have something pretty to look at. They might be a little too much, but it’s not like you’d gotten her roses or anything. Baby’s breath was a just friends flower? Right?

You threw your shopping bag in the backseat, then zoomed to the precinct for Rosa. You texted her, then waited, growing more nervous by the second. You’d never been alone with Rosa. Not like this, not in an enclosed space that wasn’t work. She sat with you at lunch sometimes or you went out for drinks with everyone after work, but this was different.

Pull yourself together, you thought, taking a deep breath as Rosa opened the passenger door and sat down heavily, leaning her head back.

“You alright?” you asked, trying to sound casual.

She nodded slowly. You waited for her to tell you where to go, but she was quiet.

“Uh… Rosa?”

She glanced at you.

“I kind of need to know where you live.”

Rosa seemed to think deeply about this, then leaned back and said, “Turn left up here. I’ll tell you where to go.”

You put the car in drive and simply followed.

When you pulled up next to Rosa’s building–a pre-war dairy refurbished as lofts–you followed her in quietly, stunned into silence, the bag of bodega groceries swinging at your wrist.

The elevator took you up to the fifth floor, and you couldn’t help but gape at her huge windows, the sealed concrete floor, the top-of-the-line appliances and expensive furniture.

You set the grocery bag on the kitchen island and took it all in, eyes wide.

“No offense or anything, but… how the hell do you live here on a police officer’s salary?”

“I don’t,” Rosa said bluntly, opening her medicine cabinet and rustling around. “I flip old cars in my spare time.”

“Oh.” You were glad Rosa was turned away from you so she couldn’t see you flush bright red at the thought of how she’d look fixing a car.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed, slamming the cabinet shut. You jumped. “I’m out of–”

“Midol?” you asked, pulling a series of medicines out of your bag. “Tylenol? Advil? Aleve? Pick your poison.”

Rosa looked at the pills, grabbing the Midol, then staring at you so hard you blushed and turned away, rummaging through the grocery bag. You couldn’t see it, but her eyes softened as she watched you.

“You brought me painkillers?” she asked, a faint smile playing on her lips.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, still avoiding her eyes. “And…” You pulled things out of the bag like it was a magic hat. “Takis, Hot Cheetos, chocolate, a frozen pizza, and Moose Tracks.”

Now it was Rosa’s turn to gape at you. But somehow that made you blush all the more. “I just…” You stumbled over your words. “I always like pizza and chocolate when I’m on my period. And I know you love Takis and Hot Cheetos. And you always have Moose Tracks in the freezer at work.” When Rosa didn’t respond, you kept talking, trying to fill the silence. “It’s no big deal or anything. I didn’t want you to have to go out later or–”

“You noticed my Moose Tracks?” she finally said, smirking, her eyes twinkling.

“Well, yeah.” You shrugged. “I notice a lot.”

“Uh-huh…” Rosa mumbled, watching you flutter around the kitchen, opening cabinet after cabinet to find a glass and get her and yourself some water. You were so nervous your mouth was dry.

“Go lay down or something!” you told her, flustered. “I’ll bring you some water. Do you want me to put the pizza in the oven for you?”

“That depends, will you stay and eat it with me?”

Rosa seemed to have transformed all of a sudden. She’d been largely preoccupied with her pain before, and you could tell she was still feeling it, but it was like a switch had been flipped. Where before she’d been, if not distant, just vaguely nice, now she seemed smug, confident, almost… flirty? As if she had something on you. You desperately hoped that what she had on you was not the fact that you had a massive crush on her.

“Uh… s-sure,” you mumbled. “If you want.”

“I do,” she said, flopping onto the couch and covering herself with a blanket. You brought her a glass of water so she could take her pills, then preheated the oven, fishing a sheet pan out of a cabinet and placing the pizza in to bake.

You sat down on the opposite side of the couch from Rosa, inching to the very edge, and trying your very best not to touch her. You never, ever wanted to make her feel uncomfortable by touching her, even by accident. But she spread out and pressed her feet against your thighs, making your breath catch in your throat.

She scrolled through shows on her TV, then asked you abruptly, “You ever watch Drake’s Hollow?”

You shook your head.

“You should. We could now, if you wanted to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you said encouragingly, willing to watch literally anything with Rosa.

“We’ll start at the beginning so you know what’s going on,” she said, searching for the right episode. “It’s not good. It’s like… the McDonald’s of television.”

You grinned. “Like the frozen pizza of television.”

“Yeah.” She smiled at you. “But sometimes it’s all you want, you know?”

Rosa was right. Drake’s Hollow was not good. The acting was awful. The plot? Melodramatic and borderline ridiculous. But it was fun. You loved to gasp at the hilarious twists and turns. The melodramatic, lovelorn speeches of the characters. To yell, “Boo! Dump his ass!” at the screen when the husband was revealed to be cheating on the wife.

For her part, Rosa loved watching you watch Drake’s Hollow. But you wouldn’t know that. You could hardly believe your luck that you were here. In Rosa’s apartment. With Rosa next to you, so close she was touching you! That you were watching this stupid, stupid show together and making a frozen pizza. You were on cloud nine. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at her, so scared were you that you’d fumble and get awkward again and ruin everything.

“Bathroom?” you asked, standing during a commercial break.

“Down the hall to the right,” Rosa said, pointing behind her.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you washed your hands, patting cool water on your cheeks in hopes that it’d bring down the flush that hadn’t left since the moment you’d stepped foot in Rosa’s house. You heard the oven timer go off and quickly dried your hands.

You walked into the kitchen, and your stomach dropped all the way to the floor. The pizza was out of the oven, cooling. And Rosa was standing at the island, pulling the slightly rumpled bouquet of baby’s breath out of the grocery bag. The bouquet you’d foregone, thinking it probably was too much.

She looked at you, and you looked away.

“Did you buy me flowers?” she asked.

Fuck, you thought to yourself. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Yep,” you sighed, trying to sound nonchalant. “I just… like to have something pretty to look at. You know, when I’m… on my period.”

It was a ridiculous excuse. You knew it. Rosa almost certainly knew it. She wasn’t stupid. You exhaled heavily and slapped a few slices of pizza onto a plate, hoping that a return to the couch, to Drake’s Hollow, would return everything else to normal, too.

You heard Rosa fill a vase with water, heard her arrange the flowers before grabbing her own pizza. Be cool, be cool, be cool, you told yourself as she sat back down, setting her plate next to yours on the coffee table.

You avoided her eyes, waiting for her to start the show again. You got more and more nervous the longer the silence went on, the longer the paused screen vibrated on the TV.

“Y/N,” Rosa finally said, her voice softer than normal.

Fuck, you cursed internally. You’d fucked it up. She knew. She knew and she didn’t feel the same because of course she didn’t, and now you’d ruined everything. It was all going to be awkward and weird now. Fuck.

“Flowers aren’t a thing that friends do.”

You let out a shaky breath. “They… could be?” you ventured, knowing as soon as it left your mouth that it wasn’t true, not for you and her.

She carefully slid her hand into yours, and you felt your heart stop.

“And what if I wanted to give you flowers?” she asked.

You blinked, not quite believing your ears, and turned to look at Rosa. Her face was light, playful, so much softer than usual. Was she teasing you? Tricking you? Making fun of you? Surely, she wasn’t that mean. She could be ruthless, sure. But she wasn’t cruel. Not to people she cared about it.

She gently grasped your chin, and your stomach did flips. Then she leaned forward and she kissed you. Just like that. So simple, so easy, so soft. Softer than you’d ever imagined Rosa to be. A softness she probably didn’t let many people see. She was so gentle, her fingers light as feathers against the skin of your face, her lips barely grazing yours, as if to ask for permission.

When she pulled away, you were breathless, even though she’d barely touched you, barely pressed her lips to yours. You just looked at each other for a moment, as if to gauge the other, as if to ask if this was real. But you–you’d wanted to kiss Rosa since the day you met her. The fact that she wanted to kiss you? Unbelievable. Beyond your wildest imagination. Rosa fucking Diaz. Absolute enigma. Terror of the Brooklyn 99. Wanted to kiss you.

Before you could even fully register what you were doing, you’d surged forward, grasping her face in your hands, pressing your lips to hers with all the fervor of an unrequited love that had, against all odds, become requited. She laughed, smiling into the kiss, pressing her hands against your collarbone, curling them around your neck.

When you finally ran out of breath, you leaned back, grinning, hand pressed to your forehead. Rosa laughed again, and you turned to her.

“This isn’t a prank, right?” you asked.

“No!” she scoffed, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking a bite. “I’m not that mean.”

You raised your eyebrows.

“Okay, I wouldn’t be that mean to you.”

“Wow,” you smirked, taking a bite of your own slice. “You really do like me.”

“Shut up, nerd,” she grumbled, mouth full, shoving her shoulder into you.

But you could tell by the way her eyes sparkled, by the way the corners of her mouth turned up, by the way she let herself linger next to you, skin touching, that she was playing when she called you names.

But she wasn’t playing when she kissed you. Wasn’t playing when she turned Drake’s Hollow back on and tentatively tucked herself into your side. And she certainly wasn’t playing when the pizza was done, the ice cream eaten, the show over, the night late. When she said, “You might as well stay if you want to. You’ll have to drive me in the morning anyway,” then stood and walked to her bedroom, giving you a look that let you know you were meant to follow. And you did.

[in1-nutshell]

Concept, mtmte Megatron accidentally adopts young human buddy.

Like there's basically just a teenager on the lost light, and because teenagers have no fear of death, they go out of their way to interact with the ex-warlord.

Time goes on, and eventually, when Megatron realizes the dynamic he has, he goes into a typical angsty brooding session. Bonus points if it has Brooklyn 99 energy of Peralta accidently calling holt 'dad' energy.

I really do enjoy your blog because a lot of the stuff is either platonic or familial, and that's my favorite shit. Hope you have a good day and drink water.

Thank you for the compliment! I have been drinking water and been having a pretty decent day. Now, Human Buddy who knows no fear is about to strike the fear of their well being upon others! Megatron is their prime target...

Hope you enjoy!

Megatron 'accidentally' adopting human Buddy who fears nothing

SFW, familial, platonic, mentions of injuries but nothing graphic or in details, Human reader

MTMTE/LL

Oh, Buddy starts off as the bane of his existence.

Buddy joins the lost light before the events of Delphi happen. Meaning they have been dealing with everyone’s problems since a little over day one.

Let’s give Buddy some context.

By sheer luck, Buddy managed to enter the Cybertronain/ Human Liaison program and was now the proud representative in the Lost Light.

Many bots on the Lost Light thought that this would be a little liaison and would be a bit fearful of the hulking giants around them or some sleazy politician. Some were just curious as they had never seen a human until that moment.

Rodimus is preparing for a Prowl like or Magnus like person to board the bridge. That’s usually who they send when it comes to relations, except Marrisa Fairborn, she was an exception.

At first Buddy did come off as someone overly polite… that was soon going to change.

“Welcome Buddy aboard the Lost Light.”—Ultra Magnus

“Thank you, Ultra Magnus sir.”--Buddy

“And I will be your Captain! The names Rodimus Prime.”--Rodimus

“Well, I’m just Buddy. Sorry but I should be entering my room now before take-off. Thank you again for the introduction sirs. I hope to find you soon?”--Buddy

“Absolutely, we will start the meeting in an hour in the meeting room down your hall.”—Ultra Magnus

“Thank you.”--Buddy

“…Great another stick in the mud…”--Rodimus

“Oh, hush they seem like a nice human.”—Ultra Magnus

A week later

“Hey Rodimus, I bet you can throw me into that mattress over there.”--Buddy

“Oh? You’re on!”--Buddy

“I have the reports ready—OH SWEET PRIMUS! BUDDY!”—Ultra Magnus

Timeskip

“So let me get this straight… You bet Rodimus, one of the most impulsive and childish bots on bourd—”--Ratchet

“Hey!”--Rodimus

“To THROW you across the room to a small mattress and it didn’t occur to you that you could bounce off the mattress!?”--Ratchet

“Well at least all the blood is internal right? That’s were the blood is supposed to be?”--Buddy

“…”--Ratchet

“Oh Primus…”—Ultra Magnus

“Oh, Primus indeed.”--Rodimus

Buddy does not know what ‘self-preservation’ is. Its not in their vocabulary. Ratchet has lost count of the amount of times that Buddy has come in the med bay with an injury that was caused by some atrociously dumb plan.

“Alright… what’s the damage today? Whirl brought you in this time so it must be bad.”—Ratchet

“Rude.”—Buddy and Whirl

“Well, I’m waiting. What happened?”--Ratchet

“Well… I was trying to follow Skids trails through the vents, which is so cool to visit—”--Buddy

“Kid.”--Ratchet

“Right. Well, I thought I could jump across the vent opening and kind a didn’t…”--buddy

“What?”--Ratchet

“Good thing Whirl was there to break my fall! Sorry again Whirl for the glass.”--Buddy

“Next time you bust my glass at least do a flip next time you fall on your back.”--Whirl

“What you fell on your back?! You have glass imbedded in it!”--Ratchet

“Huh? That explains why my back hurts so much.”--Buddy

“…”--Ratchet

Rodimus takes it back he loves this little human. Buddy is his best human friend. Whirl wins this though, he already asked Buddy to be his Amica Endura, and they accepted!

“Hey Ratchet—”--Drift

“Shh!”--Ratchet

“Rude—”--Drift

“No. It’s quiet… to quiet…”--Ratchet

“What do you think we are going to get attack?”--Drift

“…No, it’s something much worse.”--Ratchet

“What could be worse—”--Drift

“Its Whirl and Buddy! They haven’t made noise in about 10 minutes!”--Ratchet

“Ratchet I think that them not making noise—”--Drift

BAM!

“Eat floor Cyclonus!”--Whirl

“Whirl! Run! He’s gaining on us!”--Buddy

“I stand corrected.”--Drift

They make friends with a lot of bots on board. Many are happy to meet an individual such as Buddy. But this also comes at a cost. Many bots have to watch for Buddy in case something bad happens to them. They are so small and they keep getting into dangerous situations!

Rung has a line of bots that express the same worry for Buddy one day doing something dumb and not being able to come back from it.

Buddy knows no fear.

How does the crew know this?

Buddy made it their life job to make Megatron uncomfortable when they found out he was going to be the Co-Captain.

“Hey! MegaDork!”--Buddy

“Hmm?”--Megatron

Bucket of oil falls from door.

“Theres more were that came from Bucket Head! That’s for Earth!”--Buddy

Megatron can’t do anything about it. He hates organics and he can’t kill this one, not without causing another war. When Ravage shows up, he thinks that Buddy might back down a bit. I mean what human in their right of mind would try and continue to prank him when ravage is around? Buddy takes this as a challenge that needs to be beaten. If anything, Ravage helps a bit.

“He slipped on the paint! Go! Go! Go!”--Buddy

“Ravage!?”--Megatron

“All is fair in music tapes and war Megatron.”—Ravage

Buddy has the ring tone of Megs comm to “Be Prepared” from the Lion King. Swerve helped them put in the music. He laughed nonstop when it first worked.

They are petty.

Everyone is on edge whenever those two are in the same room.

Half ready to shoot Megatron down the other half to get Buddy to safety once they manage to trigger Megatron.

Is there any chance that Megatron will get a break?

Yes, yes, he does.

He managed to finally get a place holder for a poetry night in one of the classrooms. Not to his surprise no bot shows up. He is about to leave when he hears the quick little sets of footsteps coming in.

“Wait! Wait! Hold the door! I’m here! I’m here!”--Buddy

“Buddy?”--Megatron

“I’m not late, am I? I just saw the flyer from Swerve. And—hold on—sprinted from my room back here.”--Buddy

“Oh, umm, no one came…”--Megatron

“Oh, okay then its just us two them Big Guy?”--Buddy

“Wait—”--Megatron

“Call dibs on the chair on the left.”--Buddy

Megatron never pegged Buddy to be into poetry. He is also floored with Buddy actually talking to him and giving pointers on how to improve his own pieces of work. Even referring to other poets’ works so he could get some inspiration!

He nearly misses the shy look Buddy gives when he compliments their work.

He thinks that this is a onetime thing.

He is deeply mistaken.

“Hey Megs! You ready for today’s meeting?”--Buddy

“Oh, yes I am.”--Megatron

“Good! I have a bunch of works that need to be peer reviewed and I can’t trust Rodimus to look over these; and Whirl sadly isn’t an option for these either.”--Buddy

“Why don’t you ask Magnus? Surely, he could also help?”--Megatron

“And have him explain to me the importance of an Oxford comma when I forgot to put one in my writing? Yeah no, I need your optics for this.”--Buddy

“…Me?”--Megatron

Buddy no longer causes too much trouble for the Ex-warlord. Still trouble but not as much as last time. They always come to the poetry club and even managed to snag a couple of their friends to come with.

He is not going to admit to anyone, well maybe Ravage, that he started growing a soft spot for them.

“Ravage… I think I might be growing fond of Buddy…”--Megatron

“Congratulations! You’re officially the last one to know.”--Ravage

These little interactions begin happening more and more, Megatron is just happy that things are finally going well.

Then it happened.

It was at Swerve’s.

He was sitting at the bar looking over Buddy’s latest writing with Buddy, themselves sitting patiently. He gives a compliment and gives them back the writing.

“You’ve improved Buddy. These are getting better with more time.”--Megatron

“Thanks Dad.”--Buddy

“…”--Everyone

“Why is everyone so quiet?”--Buddy

“You just called Megatron here, ‘Dad’.”--Whirl

“What’s a ‘Dad’?”--Tailgate

“No! I didn’t say ‘Dad’! I just said, ‘Thanks Man!’”--Buddy

“I don’t know Buddy. It sounded a lot like ‘Dad’ to me.”--Whirl

“Seriously, what’s a ‘Dad’?”--Tailgate

“Well, you heard wrong Whirl!”--Buddy

“Do you see me as a father figure Buddy?”--Megatron

“No! I see you as a bother figure if anything.”--Buddy

“Hey respect your Dad!”--Ratchet

“Is no one going to tell me what a ‘Dad’ is?”--Tailgate

After that interaction, Buddy begins to avoid Megatron after the confrontation and nearly shuts down when someone brings up the event. Megatron really wants to talk to buddy about the incident but decides not to. Maybe it was a mistake.

He broods over it for a while.

He finds Buddy again at Swerve’s where a rather drunk bot was making fun of Buddy for their little ‘slip up��.

“Wow Fleshy. You messed be so messed up in the processor to call Megatron your Dad.”—Drunk Bot

“Hey drop it.”--Buddy

“Oh, look at me! I’m so scared of a human how I could flick across the room if I wanted to.”—Drunk Bot

“Oh, please I know that barely existing processor of yours isn’t that dumb. But even then, I hope Natural selection takes you if you follow through that threat.”—Buddy

It was getting to the point where it was becoming insensitive.

Bots around were getting uneasy at the conversation and some looked like they were going to come over and do something.

Megatron is quicker.

As he strides over, he is met with the infamous brick of parenthood. Should he really take up such a mantle?

He takes that mantle by the horns and makes it his.

“My child, is something wrong?”--Megatron

Voice crack “Nope. Just Peachy.”--Buddy

Everyone looks over.

Buddy is just beaming.

Megatron has no regrets saying what he said, he lets Buddy know this.

No, Buddy isn’t crying. You’re the one crying.

[e-vasong]

For the Director's Cut game, could you talk a bit about "all stairways lead straight to hell?" Or just any thoughts or feelings about how the boys experience or react to each others' pain/their weird relationships with pain/their weird relationships with COMFORT? How would Edwin react if their places were reversed? How much do they cuddle in the aftermath?? Please i'm so feral and your words are so good <3

For the end of year/start of 2025 game! Feel free to shoot me an ask if you have one. :D

All the Stairways Lead Straight to Hell is, to me, just this video but with Edwin and Charles in the place of Captain Holt and Jake. I wrote it and in retrospect I was like: damn, that is heavy angst/whump. But I promise that in my head, Edwin was just sort of daydreaming the whole time.

For your other questions, my headcanons are:

Charles tries sooooo hard not to think about Edwin's pain tolerance. If he thinks about it too long or too hard, he starts to have a breakdown.

When Edwin is hurt, Charles is soooo clingy and protective and also tries to wait on Edwin hand and foot. I think Edwin finds this soooo charming half the time, and the other half of the time gets overwhelmed and finds it a bit uncomfortable. He gets used to it, over the years.

Tragically, I think that Edwin's pain tolerance is soooo skewed that he has a difficult time figuring out what's going on with Charles' relationship with pain. The beginning of their relationship is cluttered with misunderstandings like Edwin running and expecting that Charles will get back up with a broken leg (wrong) and also Edwin having a panic attack because Charles got lightly nicked with an iron knife and he thinks that's bad. That looks bad. He must have a spell that can fix this, right? (Probably, but it healed five minutes ago while he was halfway through pulling his books off their shelves.)

Edwin is fussy when Charles is injured, but not necessarily...comforting, the way that Charles is. Edwin is regimented. He has a care plan. He has healing spells, and if he doesn't, he's researching them. If Charles tries to get up off the couch on his own, Edwin IS THERE and he KNOWS and he is VERY CROSS ABOUT IT. He gets better eventually, warmer, but for the first few years Charles is the one who has to go: Close the book and please come cuddle me on the couh.

That said, even at the very beginning of their relationship, I think Edwin is SUPER reactive when Charles gets hurt, and he gets really, really obsessed with preventing it. He's much more subtle about it than Charles is, but when Charles figures it out, he has a Big Cry About It Because That's So Nice And No One Has Ever Cared About Him That Much Before? while Edwin is nervously fretting because oh, dear, he broke Charles.

If their roles were reversed? I think we have two options. First, I love the idea from Catalists' spectacular What Some Circumstance Stole that a ghost CAN phase through iron, it just hurts like hell. So if Edwin is in the exact same position Charles is....he lasts maybe five minutes, and then he is walking right through those bars, and taking their captor out of commission.

If I'm staying true to the spirit of the original and properly incapacitating Edwin in some manner, I think it plays out in much the same way. Edwin is less explicitly reactive than Charles would be, but I think he tries to talk Charles through it, while secretly working on some spell that he can use to bust out.

Unlike Charles, his plan probably involves, like, ripping her soul out and trapping it in a little jar and just leaving it there until he's satisfied that she's paid for what she's done (it's going to be a long, long, LONG time).

If they were still kidnapped because of Edwin, then Edwin probably does try to break up the Agency. They have a huge fight about it, and Charles aggravates his own injuries during it, at which point Edwin gets fussy and attentive again. And Charles, now more confident that Edwin doesn't secretly hate him, makes Edwin talk it out like a normal and healthy person.

How much did they cuddle in the aftermath? You cannot unpry Charles from Edwin's side after All the Stairways. Edwin is completely healed by the next morning, but Charles doesn't let him up for another half-day, and even after that, Charles is basically plastered up against him while Edwin putters around the office doing busy work. They're insufferable.

[pigeonstab]

Okay but with Cross singing his dad disappointment songs, do you think Nightmare starts trying to be more encouraging with him? Like giving him a little shoulder pat after missions and telling him he did a good job, or just being more vocally praising? lol

Yes, absolutely. As always you are so right it hurts. I love how your mind works.

And of course Cross would react like a puppy getting treats, he like physically perks up everytime it happens. It stays in his mind, he replays Nightmare's words in his head, the pats on the back feel like they stay even after (that's also cause he's so touch starved).

I imagine that scene from I believe brooklyn 99 (I only know that scene from clips btw so I'm probably gonna get things wrong) where Peralta? I think? Calls captain Holt(?) dad. And like the ppl around him react and stuff. I'll see if I can find it.

Can you IMAGINE Cross calling Nm dad??? On accident ?? He'd be so fucking embarrassed, cause he's supposed to be so closed off and serious, he's supposed to be a royal guard, and Nightmare's his boss. He must feel like he's letting himself go, like he's loosing control.

Maybe that funny accident actually turns into angst, where Cross starts to avoid Nm, to try and distance himself, to not get too comfortable or indulge in that stuff, also partly because of he doesn't feel like he deserves it.

Nightmare might take Cross pulling away as him not liking the extra affection, so he stops for Cross' sake. Cross takes that as Nightmare being upset/disappointed in him.

Either it ends in miscommunication with Cross feeling like he deserves it anyway, or it ends with Cross having to explain how he feels and express his needs, which is a mortifying ordeal to him, to ask for what he wants.

This was way longer than I intended and the english is probably wack but you gave me too many thoughts!!!

[qqueenofhades]

as a starting history major i wanna ask how do you read/evaluate academic history papers/books? i'm trying to avoid just blindly agreeing with whatever the author is writing because it seems correct. how can you tell what is good scholarship and what is more shaky?

This is a great question for you as a freshman history major to ask (many of my toiling colleagues and I can attest that we wish more of you would!) and shows that you're already taking initiative and investment in your studies and want to be the best prepared you can. So truly -- thank you! Us on the faculty/staff/administrative end of academia can feel as if we are pouring into an empty bucket at times, and it's always gratifying to hear otherwise. We really appreciate it.

As a college freshman and/or underclassman (or so I'm assuming) your first job is learning how to collect basic information from the things you read, collate and cite them accurately, and make them converse intelligently with each other in an entry-level piece of academic writing (such as an essay responding to an assigned prompt). So before you have to worry about understanding complex nuance and granular-level fact-checking, the first step is just getting comfortable with academic forms, styles, and conventions. There's an occasional anti-intellectual strand of thinking that pops up on Tumblr, basically insisting that everyone everywhere should be able to understand everything in fifth-grade words and if not then it's Elitist Gatekeeping, but this is a symptom of TikTok brainrot where people's brains have been literally rewired to only process spoon-fed chunks of incredibly simplistic (and uh, often wrong) information, and literally can't parse anything longer, even if it's written in accessible language. Yes, many academics are not necessarily great writers, but you also have to let go of the mindset that you can speed-read once and understand everything. You will need to slow down, take your time, and make a note of concepts that are confusing or that you want to double-check, words you need to look up, and things that make you say "hmm I should look into that more," whether because you're interested or they seem questionable. I always read academic texts or papers (I prefer hard copy, because I am Fucking Old) with a pen in hand, because if I don't, I often feel like I didn't read it at all.

Basically, this is an interactive process between you and the text, and requires you to develop a different kind of reading mentality than just buzzing through a novel or fanfic for pleasure. You have to expect that it will take time and that if you regularly skive off the readings, you won't be prepared for class, your professors will be annoyed, and you won't be able to write good essays, because you haven't engaged with the material. In your case, it sounds like that will be less of a problem, because you are eager to know how to do it right, but I can tell you from my experience that nothing frustrates us more than students who just won't do the reading (and you know, use ChatGPT to write their essays) because then what are you even DOING here? What do you want to get out of this? Why are you wasting your precious tuition money like this? Yes, you probably have to fill a requirement, but STILL. It's disrespectful to your teacher, who has invested a lot of effort in being here to help you with this and doesn't want you to just quit because it looks hard, and your peers, and to you. So anyway, /Captain Holt voice/ apparently that's a trigger for me. Basically, if you learn nothing else from this ask: please do the reading. Even if it's only to admit you need more help or want to talk about this concept in class or otherwise take advantage of all the structures that are in fact there to help you understand it! Thankee.

Likewise, because you're an underclassman, you have an advantage in that your teacher will select the class readings for you ahead of time. That means you will be receiving things that a professional has already checked, decided are useful and trustworthy, and you don't have to do independent research and vetting yourself (that will come if you decide for some godforsaken reason to pursue graduate and/or doctoral study). So you don't need to spend tons of extra time and effort deciding if the sources given to you in class are reliable on a basic and functional level; your professor has already done the work for you to make sure that they are. Your job is now to read those sources, keep a record of what they say (hence the aforementioned pen or other way to make quick notes) and figure out how to put them together in an essay. For example, if Author A cites Factor A as, say, the main cause of the fall of the Western Roman Empire, and Author B insists that Factor B was in fact more critical, what is your best approach to reconciling that information? You would search in the rest of those texts to see what else they say in support of their position, and you would probably end up with a qualified statement to the effect of, "While Author A argues A, Author B thinks B, representing the lack of consensus and the difficulty in attributing one single cause to an event as complicated as the fall of Rome." (And then because you're smart, you would go on to mention Byzantium and the Eastern Roman Empire and show that you are aware of the further context.) All of which is true! Historians do that all the time! You don't need to select THE RIGHT ANSWER and vigorously discredit all other theories, ever, and we tend to look suspiciously on people who do (cough cough Philippa Langley).

In other words, we are certainly not expecting you as a freshman, and even as a more advanced student, to be able to pick out ONE ANSWER from the material. We just want to see evidence that you have in fact read it, are able to evaluate and place theories side by side and possibly make a judgment as to which one you find more compelling, and also to properly cite where you got that information. We've seen a lot recently about plagiarism and that being the pretext on which Harvard president Claudine Gay was forced to resign (which is a whole other can of worms, but never mind). A lot of professors think that saying "Don't Do Plagiarism" is enough, but then don't explain what it is and the different forms it can take. It's not just a matter of copying verbatim chunks of someone else's work (or you know, ALL OF IT, like certain recently discredited YouTube scumbags) and acting like it's your own. If you are relying substantially on someone else's work, whether in their wording, arguments, conclusions, structure, or anything else, even if you've changed some of the words (yep, still plagiarism!), that needs to be cited appropriately according to the relevant style guide. Direct quotes from anyone need to go in quotation marks or indented blocks and have the author cited immediately afterward. History usually uses Chicago, MLA, or MHRA, and you can find cheat sheets for how to do that online. It's a pretty simple and straightforward style, and your professor will be extra impressed.

If you're expected to do an independent project or a senior research thesis, as some undergraduate history students do, then it will come when you have already had three years of experience in reading, evaluating, and writing historical scholarship, you will probably have a faculty member assigned to you for one-on-one mentoring and personalized feedback sessions, and they will be able to provide suggestions and support for useful sources. So even then, you still don't have to do it entirely on your own. They'll probably also be MORE than happy to debate with you which ones are good and which ones are suspect, because it's all a part of developing your ability to flex that muscle for yourself. (And as noted, faculty members Will Have Strong Opinions.) That likewise doesn't mean you just have to copy whatever they say (at least if you have a good teacher who wants you to think for yourself and not just be a mini-clone of their pet theories), but it means that by the time you reach that stage, you will have been prepared enough to feel confident in taking more steps on your own. I think not enough people realize that studying history (or anything, really) isn't just throwing you out there and being like "tough luck sucker, do it all yourself."

That's why academia is so collaborative, why plenty of historians with doctorates and tenure will still have to say "I don't know, let me get back to you" when someone asks them a question at a conference, and you don't have to fear that if you don't have The One Right Answer, you will be immediately exposed as a fraud and thrown out. History as a discipline is also moving away from the 19th-century German approach that attempted to systematize it as a singular social science with One Right Answer, and to focus more on multiple perspectives and incomplete answers. That's why the goal is not necessarily to know everything (which alas, is impossible), but to make better sense of what we can know and search for ways in which the existing record is flawed and needs to be revised, expanded, or reworked with new perspectives (which have existed all this time, but haven't been privileged by the white male western academy for the obvious reasons). And that work is fun and important! I don't want you to be scared of getting to that point, because someone will be there to support you the whole way and by the time you do, it will make sense to you in a way it probably doesn't right now, just because it's a new skill and like any new skill, it takes a long time to learn and to be able to apply confidently, consistently, and at a high level. And plenty of us who do it as a career still often have to say "I don't know, let me ask Dr. So-and-so who specializes in this," so yeah. It's a process of becoming comfortable with both learning how to answer what we can, and to ask others for help with that, and it never really ends. Which is the fun part. There's so much more to do.

Good luck!

[klaissance]

nobody asked but here is my pitch for a princess and the pauper klance au

Princess Allura of Altea generally likes her life. She lives in a palace with her father, King Alfor, her quirky tutor and longtime friend Coran, and her lady-in-waiting Romelle who she definitely is not in love with. Don't worry about it.

Her being totally not in love with Romelle is something to not worry about at all because actually, as of fairly recently, Allura is engaged! To a man (ew) she's never met (double ew): Prince Keith of Marmora. Their matrimony is to solidify an alliance between Altea and Marmora which, if everyone's being honest, is mostly to haul Altea out of its recent troubles. The kingdom is floundering and its people have been suffering for too long; this alliance with Marmora offers a fresh start and a royal wedding promotes economic stimulation, etc etc politics politics

Allura loves her people and her father so she's gonna suck it up and do this. But she can't and won't be jazzed about it all the time. Sometimes she wishes she could be anyone but herself, with the freedom to make selfish choices.

Anyway down in the town there is this boy named Lance McClain and he just so happens to have a vaguely similar facial structure to Altea's princess (rip this has to be a blue-eyed Lance story to work, huh) and he works at the dress emporium under Monsieur Iverson who is, frankly, an abusive boss. But Iverson is funding Lance's sister's education. The McClains need this, and so Lance pricks his fingers and works every waking hour for pennies that he never even gets to see. Lance loves his family so he's gonna do it but he can't and won't be jazzed about it all the time. Sometimes he wishes he could be anyone but himself, with the freedom to make selfish choices.

do u feel me on this guys

also Allura has five cats named Onyx, Ruby, Emerald, Sapphire, and Topaz and she loves them very much. But Sapphire has been acting strange recently...

Lance has this cat that he calls Blue that he doesn't actually have but she shows up night after night at his window and he feeds her and she lays on his lap while he works and he loves her very much

......it's the same cat *hold for applause*

anyway Romelle takes Allura into town to "run errands" or something but really it's just a date and one of Allura's last tastes of freedom before she gets hitched to whoever this Keith dude is

and Sapphire slips away and dashes through the streets and Allura chases her down and finds her perched on a windowsill in an alley being fed by a stranger who looks a little familiar and oh--

Lance and Allura finally meet and look at each other and are like woah we could definitely be siblings genetics are so weird

Bonded by their shared cat they get along splendidly and have a nice and surprisingly deep talk about their respective plights, and Allura promises to call on Lance soon

The next morning Coran and Romelle go to the princess only to find her bed empty save for a note that says she's taken the cats and run away...

The note is sus and then Sapphire shows up (from spending the night at Lance's.) Coran and Romelle know Allura would never leave just Sapphire behind, so they're immediately Not Buying It but they don't know who they can trust, and also this is a disaster because Prince Keith and his entourage are literally coming to visit today so they need to fix this asap

Romelle remembers the boy from the village who looked weirdly like Allura and she has the best/worst idea of all time...

Cue "To Be A Princess" as performed by Coran and Romelle at Lance, who by the end of the song is unclockable he's so good at princess cosplay

When "Allura" appears at dinner as scheduled, Alfor's advisor Zarkon and his shitty son Lotor are shook but they stay quiet

you guys lotor as preminger is so funny pLEASE

AND THEN KEITH SHOWS UP

Keith and his diplomat friends, The Holts, and his captain of the guard Shiro, pull up to dinner to meet Keith's future wife

Keith's a gay man he's not thrilled about this. She's certainly a handsome woman, if her portraits are to be believed, but there's nothing to be done about it. Lifelong bummer for Keith. Such is princedom.

So Keith and co. show up in Altea and they meet the princess and Keith swears she's a little broader in the shoulders and sharper in the jaw than he'd expected but chalks it up to shitty portraiture. He'll hire the court painter from Marmora when they're married.

Lance in his princess costume is like "oh lord he's fine" but then they go on a bunch of weird dates and mostly bicker a bunch because Keith hates that he's forced to be here and Lance is just sort of like that

meanwhile Allura's like busting her own ass out of the mines and lotor sings how can i refuse *hold for standing ovation*

and since Sapphire didn't get kidnapped with the other cats she's still around and Lance talks to her in the bath and is generally just being silly goofy and Keith happens to walk by and hear Lance talking in his normal tone to somebody named "Blue" and the door happens to be a little open and Keith happens to peek--he doesn't even know why he literally doesn't even like women--and wait just a fucking second that is a boy and a wig on the floor and Keith to himself is like 'um should i complain about being lied to, something wack is going on here' and then he's like 'wait I'm gay and he's hot let's see how this plays out' and says nothing LMAO

but then their little dates get way more interesting because Keith is trying to tease out this secret and also is like,, actually interested

maybe they do a horseback riding date where Lance gets to wear pants and have the big platinum wig tied back and he feels a little more like himself and he and Keith hardly even bicker anymore they just sort of have a great time together and Lance feels a little insane for this whole thing but he really likes him but he has to tell him the truth and he's literally about to admit it

but then Lotor comes back from checking on Allura in the mines and knows the princess at the palace is a fake so he calls Lance out and rips the wig off, the whole thing, and Lance is thrown in the dungeon when moments ago he was literally a hair's breadth away from kissing Keith on the mouth UGH life is so cruel

Lotor and Zarkon convince Alfor that Allura is dead and they plot to strike and stage their coup during her funeral or something idk

But meanwhile Romelle and Allura and the cats are power-lesbianing their way out of the mines, and meanwhile meanwhile Keith busts Lance out of jail and they go also to the mines to try to save Allura

just four gays and their cats standing at the mines like ok what now

they bust into the funeral proceedings and wreck Lotor's shit, Allura definitely throws him over her shoulder and skips him like a rock and they explain everything to Alfor

Lotor and Zarkon go to jail and Altea is saved even without the marriage alliance because Allura and Romelle found extra stores of quintessence locked in the geodes in the mines or whatever

Lance is now so thoroughly sponsored by not one but two royal families that his family will want for nothing ever again--his siblings are put on royal scholarship to any school of their choosing in either Altea or Marmora. Lance himself has always wanted to travel, so he does, and he writes letters to Keith the whole time and when he returns Keith is waiting for him and they do a big gay double wedding with Allura and Romelle just like in the Barbie movie <3

the end

[whomst-art-thou-whomst-whomst]

Whomst’s Drama-Watching Year in Review*

*please note this is about dramas I watched in 2024, not necessarily dramas released in 2024

Favorite “confusing and convoluted but also an unserious gay old time” drama: The Sign Special Episode

One of my fave shows last year, and then they spoiled us with a special episode??? This show has everything: Thai mythology worked into a BL plot, the most badass training for police in the world (seriously wtf they’re like the Navy SEALs here in the US), and the absolutely adorable “star-crossed but then we said fuck fate” romance between Tharn, who exemplifies my gender goals, and Phaya, a himbo simp. Not to mention that this baby *slaps the show’s roof* can fit soooo many under-explained and unlikely side stories and plot holes.

I cackled so many times watching this drama, and the special episode does not disappoint. Absolutely insane. Love it.

Favorite Performance in a Single Scene: Tan Jianci in Under the Skin 2, Episode 20

Tan Jianci. This…this fuckin guy. Our special little guy. Forlorn-looking twink extraordinaire. His off-the-rails ranting monologue while confronting a serial killer about his motives, empathizing while manipulating and trying to stay sane all at once, is genuinely up there with my favorite performances of all time.

Now, usually my ADHD ass struggles to stay focused in a scene, but dear reader—I just sat there as Tan Jianci gave us a new side of Shen Yi, spellbound like his audience (please stop skipping off to confront serial killers alone, Shen Yi sweetie) in the scene. He needs an award for this role that matches the skill he showed here (and throughout the show); I don’t think I’ve been so hypnotized and fascinated by an actor’s work in a single scene since Javier Bardem in No Country for Old Men. All the awards for Tan Jianci.

Favorite Sapphic Sweethearts: Tul and Ran in Petrichor the Series

Listen. I am not made of stone and Thailand knows what they’re fucking doing giving us these two. I’m fine. Totally fine. No, you spent an hour rewatching that one scene.

I haven’t posted much on this show because I’m still watching it and savoring it slowly, like a Milano cookie. But once I get some free time (laughs hysterically) I plan to start doing meta on this Englot dream. It’s giving us what Rizzoli and Isles should have done in the first place (no disrespect to Sasha Alexander, my queen).

Favorite “The Subtext Is Rapidly Becoming Text” Couple: Ao Li and Yan Jingjing in Under the Skin 2, Episode 15

Okay so I’ve already talked about this show in the list—so what? So what???

Captain Holt voice: and you’ll hear it again!

This series is no stranger to the sapphic under-overtones, but the two ladies who reunite at the culmination of a case that is not what it seems (I refuse to spoil) acted their fucking hearts out and DO NOT TELL ME THAT THE TWO OF THEM EMBRACING IN A WEDDING VENUE, ONE IN A FULL-ON WHITE WEDDING DRESS AND THE OTHER IN A RED (popular wedding dress color for Chinese brides) DRESS, IS ANYTHING LESS THAN GAY GAY GAY GAY GAY GAYGAYGAY—

You get the picture. Anyway. They’re amazing and their sapphic coded “former friends” storyline is realistic and beautifully told. Ao Li broke my heart. Even though we only had them for a few episodes, I would seriously watch a whole spin off series about these two characters.

Favorite Returning Actor: Wu Dohwan in Mad Dog

I was first introduced to Wu “Doe Eyes” Dohwan in My Country: The New Age, which is a super fun romp full of kittens and milkshakes—just kidding, it’s a soul-rending mindfuck of a historical drama that I’m still brooding over. Oh, and he was also the golden retriever boxer in Bloodhounds opposite Lee Sangyi (who absolutely killed it too, that show rocked). Now suddenly I’m watching him play a cunning chameleon taking on the world’s longest revenge scheme and making so many friends and enemies in the process (good for him). His range is insane—from a high-strung, ambitious emo with unrequited love to an innocent himbo jock to a scheming traumatized con artist. His Home Alone episode is great, too, and you get to see that the golden retriever thing is probably the closest to his real self.

Surprise Favorite: Where Your Eyes Linger: Director’s Cut

People. I clicked out of curiosity because hey, I liked that BL the first time around, I wonder what’s diff—holy shit.

This director’s cut is a gift. It focuses more on Kang Gook’s internal experience, the closeups and cutaways are jarring but somehow work really well. Honestly, it felt like I was watching a companion to the original.

[andystanberg]

closed doors and cars in garages [B99 fic]

Word Count: 5824 AO3 Link Content Warning: Past child abuse and referenced sexual assault. Summary:

Jake tells people that the worst thing Roger Peralta did to him was leave.

But that's not the whole truth.

-

Captain Holt stalks from the elevator to the bullpen without his usual professional nods at his employees.

“Detective Peralta,” he says, and Jake’s stomach drops, “my office, now.”

He doesn’t look at Jake when he says this and his tone is as flat as ever, but Jake knows he’s in deep shit. He scoots out of his seat and scuttles after his Captain. Mercifully, the blinds are closed, so Amy can’t lip-read his dressing-down.

Holt gestures to the open door, and Jake reluctantly shuts it. The closed in nature of the space makes Jake’s palms sweat. He stays standing by the door, one hand twitching as he forces it to stay by his side rather than resting on the door handle.

“Hey, Cap-i-tan,” he says, trying (and failing) to keep the tone light. Holt stares him down, unimpressed. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re not mad, you’re disappointed.” He shoots finger guns with a forced grin.

Holt leans back in his chair. “No.” Jake’s eyes widen for a moment, shocked that it’s going so well, but then bites his lip as Holt keeps speaking. “I’m both extremely mad and disappointed. You are my subordinate. You do not get to interfere with my personal life.”

His words came out quick and snappy, each syllable over-enunciated with simmering rage behind them.

“Look,” Jake goes to explain, even though Holt frowns in a way that indicates an explanation will hurt, rather than help. The words trip out of Jake’s mouth anyway. “You were clearly upset this whole week. I just wanted to make sure things were okay with you and Kevin, and-“

Holt raises a hand and Jake’s mouth snaps shut. “How I feel has nothing to do with you. Why do you take it upon yourself to try to fix everyone’s unhappiness, knowing you’ll just make things worse?”

 Jake shoves his hands in his pocket and stares down at the floor. It’s a rhetorical question.

But Holt keeps looking at him, head slightly inclined, as if he genuinely expects an answer.

Jake’s mind races as he fumbles for an answer. “You were taking your anger out on the squad,” Jake says, which is true but he still can’t meet Holt’s eyes as he says it. “It wasn’t fair to them.”

He’s quickly dismissed, and he heads back out to the bullpen but doesn’t sit back at his desk. Instead, he lingers by Gina and asks what she’s up to.

Gina immediately puts down her phone and launches into an animated and lengthy explanation of the Twitter beef she’s involved in. “And then Elon Musk weighs in. Like, bitch, your cars are ugly, you don’t get to diss my girl Rhi Rhi like that. If I wanted to, I could also launch my own brand of satellites. That whore’s just lucky my passion is dance.”

Back when Roger still lived with them, albeit intermittently, Jake spent most of the time in his room.

His dad had never truly learnt how to cope with Jake’s yabbering and hyperactivity, which wasn’t his fault, not really, because enough of Jake’s teachers had complained about the same behaviours by that point that Jake knew he was a ‘problem child’ of sorts. So sometimes Roger snapped at him, which Jake could deal with.

Sometimes he would more than snap. It would start with Roger rubbing his temples, and even though Jake knew he should stop talking, the words would start spewing out of him more with the nervousness.

And one time, the first time he’d seen his dad in a few weeks, he was more excited than usual, and he figured, Dad wouldn’t mind. Dad must be excited to see me too.

Although Roger had promised to bring back Chinese takeout, all he’d brought was a six-pack of beer. Karen had gone out grocery shopping, so it was just them too.

Roger and Jake were watching the Knicks’ game, and Roger was nursing a beer. Jake, being only six at the time, was on the beige carpet floor, throwing a ball from one hand to the next.

“And Gina’s taller than me now, which is not fair! She said she’s going to be taller than me forever, but I’ve seen Spiderman. He got taller after the bite, so I thought, hey, why don’t I just get bit by a few spiders until I’m taller her! That would show her.”

At that point, Roger had increasingly sighed or grunted, the frown on his face deepening. Jake would normally get the hint, but he was trying to work up the nerve to tell his dad that he’d been bit by a spider and might be dying, so he focused on the signed baseball he was throwing. Roger had got it for him after a long stint somewhere, when his mum had been mad at Roger and kept asking him about some woman named Penny.

“Anyway, so I saw this spiderweb in the corner of my room, and I was standing on my bed trying to get its attention, and it just, like, leapt out of me, like argh!” Jake mimed the spider landing on his face with his hand.

“The game, Jake,” his dad said, gesturing with the beer at the TV. With his other hand, he turned the volume up a few notches.

“And I think it got me on the neck. I’m not afraid of spiders,” Jake hastily adds, “but could you look at my neck just in case?” He stands up, not realising he’s blocking the TV until Roger’s drawing his arm back and the beer bottle he was holding is suddenly shattering the glass cabinet behind Jake.

He stands, and shoves Jake with the back of him arm, and Jake falls. It wasn’t even that rough, he told himself, Jake just wasn’t expecting it.

Jake lies there on his back, surrounded by glass, silent. Roger watched the rest of the game before standing up and picking out the glass in Jake’s back. Jake apologised for blocking the TV, and Roger grunted in response. He covered the small cuts in Jake’s right arm with bandaids – the cool ones, with the superheros – and swept up the glass.

When Jake’s mum had come home asking what happened to her favourite cabinet, Roger told her that Jake was throwing the ball in the house and accidentally broke the glass. He stressed that it was an accident, and that she shouldn’t get mad at Jake because he was sure Jake had learnt his lesson and would only play outside from now on.

Jake frowned all throughout the explanation, but later that night, Roger had cleared the spiderweb from the ceiling above his bed, so everything was okay. Really.

Holt’s still mad at him, so Jake’s cases get reassigned for the week and he’s stuck doing paperwork. However, with Holt being injured, that means the two are confined to the precinct together more often than not.

Holt’s anger is mostly inaudible, but the tension rolls off his in waves that Jake feels like he’s the only one picking up. He doesn’t know how to explain to Rosa or Terry that someone can make coffee in a way that says I’m mad at you. Amy points out that he’s rightfully mad at Jake, and although she may have a point, it doesn’t stop the unease clawing at him.

Every time Holt leaves his office, Jake rolls his chair over to Gina’s desk, pretending he needs a signature on a document. He thinks Gina’s getting annoyed by the fifth time he does this, but then Holt walks over to Jake’s desk, standing there with his arms crossed, surveying the messy desk that he’d snapped at Jake to clean up two days ago, and both Jake and Gina pretend they can’t see him.

“God, this paperwork,” Jake says loudly enough for Holt to hear, “so many signatures, am I right, Gina?”

“So many,” she agrees, holding her pen with a flourish even though she’s really just drawing a detailed picture of herself with Beyonce as a back-up dancer.

They only manage to hold Holt off for one minute before he says, still anger-enunciating, “Detective Peralta.”

Jake’s shoulders drop, and Gina sets down her pen.

“Um, rude, Cap’un,” she says, flicking her hair over her shoulder. “Jake and I are trying to do our work, so could you hold on, for like, a sec?”

Jake grimaces but Gina keeps staring Holt down. Though Jake was defiant towards authority at the best of times, he ultimately was no better than Amy at wanting Holt’s approval, whereas Gina truly gave no fucks.

When he was fourteen, Roger Peralta had dropped back into his life with a bouquet of flowers for his mum and a car he’d bought for Jake. His mum reminded Roger that Jake wasn’t sixteen yet, but Jake had been ecstatic. He’d sit in the driver’s seat, the engine off, and pretend to drive it for hours. It was summer vacation, and it was the first time Jake hadn’t been made to go to asthma camp, so everything was looking up.

Sometimes his dad would join him, though Roger didn’t like to sit in the passenger seat, so he’d offer to drive Jake around town instead. They’d get ice cream, and Jake thought this was it. Dad’s back, and he’s ready to be part of my life.

Then, exactly one week after his dad came back, Jake was sitting in the driver’s seat with shaking hands. Mum and Dad were fighting about something to do with Dad’s medication. Jake thought that wasn’t very fair, since when he caught Dad bent over the bathroom counter with what looked like a neat white line of salt or sugar, Dad told him it was medication for his heart. Did his mum want his dad to get a heart attack and die?

The afternoon was hot and sticky, and Jake had the engine on just to blast the aircon. He remembered his dad saying something about it being bad for the car to be on while its idle, so he assumed that was why his dad had slammed the front door and was stomping over to him.

Jake automatically scooted to the passenger seat. Roger yanked the driver’s side door open, and Jake was ready to apologise, but his dad just got in and put the car into reverse. The car unsteadily jerked its way down their driveway.

“Dad?” he asked, hand gripping the side door. The car locks clicked on.

The car jerked again. Roger put it in drive, and they shot down their suburban street faster than Jake was used to. He twisted around in his seat to look through the back window and then put his seatbelt on. Roger wasn’t wearing his.

“Are we going for ice cream?”

But his voice was unsure. Roger sped up, and sometimes the car would drift into the other lane, and people honked angrily at them. Jake put on his brave face, because he was a grown-up and he could handle a little joyride.

Roger’s hands were white around the steering wheel, and he was mumbling to himself, his gaze darting at Jake, then the back seat, and really everywhere but the road.

“I think we should stop, Dad.”

That had set Roger off, and he began ranting, gesturing wildly. “That bitch just doesn’t understand me. A man has needs, Jakey. No one gets that. A man can’t unwind anymore. You know how much I pay her in child support? You know how much of my salary goes to that woman? And she dares to question how I spend my money? Haven’t I done enough for you, Jake? Isn’t this car enough?”

“The car’s great,” Jake agreed, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Jake was terrified, but he knew better than to let Roger see that. “I get you, Dad.”

Roger frowned, then looked over at him. His hands weren’t on the steering wheel at all anymore. “Yeah, Jakey,” he said, “it’s just you and me, isn’t it?”

When they hit the pole, Jake unstrapped himself from his seat and flung himself out the car. He raced the three blocks to Gina’s house, bare feet slapping against the burning bitumen.

Gina had seen him coming from her window and had let him inside. Her parents were away, as usual, and the two of them camped in her room. Gina painted his toenails, Jake curled her hair, and Gina told him all about how Mikey P was now dating Vanessa, which was messy since two weeks ago Vanessa had kissed Mikey P’s brother.

She didn’t ask what happened. They’d been friends long enough that she didn’t need to.

And when Roger turned up on Gina’s porch, asking to see Jake, Gina had said, “Sorry, I haven’t seen him,” and shut the door in his face.

The next day at the precinct, Jake comes in with two pastries. He had spent an absurd amount ($15) to get them from the pastry shop (“Patisserie, Jake.”) Boyle had recommended, and they came in two cute boxes with little French flags sticking up from their centres.

It was the perfect olive branch for Holt and Kevin, and with any luck, Holt would simply forget about the whole invading his privacy thing.

He all but bounces into work, chirping a “Good morning, Amy,” even when she frowns at the boxes in his hands.

“Uh, uh,” she says, getting up from her desk to intercept his path to Captain Holt’s office, “Holt hates presents.”

Jake rolls his eyes. “It’s not a present, Ames. It’s just a, uh, random act of kindness. You should try it sometime, it’d do you some good.”

“I’m plenty kind!” she cries, affronted, and Jake smiles at her.

“Sure, Ames.”

He scoots around her and walks into Holt’s office, squaring his shoulders and plastering the biggest grin he can across his face. He notices that Gina isn’t here yet, and remembers that she had a concert last night so she probably wouldn’t be in for another thirty minutes. He keeps Captain Holt’s door open.

“Morning, Captain!” He sets the pastries down on Holt’s desk, who raises his eyebrows at him from above the document he’s perusing.

“What is this?”

“One blueberry and one cherry Danish from La Petite Café,” Jake says, revelling in the over-the-top French accent he puts on.

Charles pokes his head into the office. “Le Petite,” he corrects, “Le.”

“Not now, Charles.”

“Sorry, Jake!” his friends says, reaching for the door handle and pulling it shut behind him. Jake frowns, but smooths his features back out when he turns towards Holt.

The Captain puts down the paper and takes off his glasses. Jake’s not sure if that’s a good sign or not, so he crosses his arms and does what he does best.

He makes a joke out of it. “Woah, getting serious, hey? Is someone dead?” He gasps. “Two someones?”

It falls flat.

“Are you giving these to me in the hopes that I’ll forgive your transgression from earlier in the week?”

There’s that piercing look again. One that means Holt actually expects an answer.

“No. Maybe. Is it working?”

Jake’s first boyfriend was amazing. They were roommates in college, and they both liked Die Hard, and they both wanted to be cops, and they both hadn’t dated a boy before each other.

John had a car, and Jake didn’t. The one Roger had got him had been sold for scraps after the incident. They told his mum that Jake was driving by himself and had crashed. His mum grounded him for the rest of the summer and Roger left that night.

So John drove them places. He took Jake to fancy restaurants, which Jake didn’t particularly like, and paid for drinks at bars, which Jake loved. Jake had a part-time job at a Blockbuster and it barely paid enough for his weekly ramen dinners, whereas John had an allowance.

The only reason John lived on campus was because he wanted ‘the authentic college experience’, but two weeks in, he was already talking about how great it would be if Jake and him got their own place together next year.

Jake had told Gina, of course, excited about how great things were with John. Gina asked if they were moving too fast, and Jake rolled his eyes. He told John about how silly Gina was being, expecting John to laugh with him, but, instead, John had said he didn’t feel comfortable with how much Gina was coming in between them.

One night, John had dragged Jake along to a party with some friends from high school, and he was being more handsy than normal. John was just playing it up for his friends, Jake knew that, and those friends thought it was hilarious the more uncomfortable Jake was.

He tried to play along with it, let John shove him into a wall and kiss him, the alcohol turning John’s breath sour. Jake shimmied out of it eventually, and he must have had too much to drink because his legs were shaking.

He was about to call Gina to pick him up when John snatched the flip-phone out of his hand. He stared at the screen, Gina’s contact highlighted, and his face twisted into a scowl.

“I told you I didn’t like that girl!”

Jake was about to apologise, to agree that he’d stay a little longer, to lie and say that Gina had texted him and he just wanted to make sure things were okay, when John threw his phone at the wall. Hard.

The party paused for only a second. John broke the silence with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as they both stared at his broken phone. “Oh, man, I’m so sorry.”

He tried to put a hand on Jake’s shoulder, but Jake shrugged him off and walked right out of the party.

He found a payphone eventually, and dialled Gina’s number. He spent the night with her and the next morning, when he returned to their college dorm, there was a box with a little bow on his bed. A new phone from John.

They dated for one month after that, and then Jake requested a new roommate.

Holt stands from his desk, and Jake’s eyes flick to the closed door again. Holt pauses, frowns, and then walks over to the door and opens it. He stands to the side rather than waiting in the doorway.

“A new case has come in. We suspect that an Italian restaurant, Lou Malnati’s, is being used as a smuggling front. Would you like to stake the place out with me?”

Jake hesitates for a moment too long.

“Or… you can take Santiago, if you would prefer.”

“No, it’s fine,” he says quickly. “Captain Holt and Jake stakeout! The boys are back!”

He brushes past Holt and makes his way to the elevator. Holt joins him, but stands by the back rather than by the doors like he normally does. He likes to be efficient – in and out – so it’s odd.

Jake doesn’t comment though, and they get into Jake’s car and drive towards Lou Malnati’s.

They circle the block twice, but when no street parking avails itself, Holt nods towards a parking garage across the street.

“The upper levels appear to have a clear vantage point inside the restaurant.”

It’s one of those concrete blocks, and it looks mostly empty.

Jake’s brain short-circuits. “Or,” he says before he can stop himself, “I could keep looking for a street park. Someone’s bound to leave eventually, and, you know, if something shady is going down it’ll be easier to bust in. Catch ‘em red-handed.”

Holt tilts his head, eyebrows pinching together in a quizzical look. Jake’s the driver though, so he does it anyway.

After ten minutes, a space frees itself just across the street. Jake jumps out to pay the parking metre.

When Jake was seven, his mum started working a lot, and he was often left in the care of Roger.

Roger would regularly invite his pilot friends over, which Jake loved because they’d all call him Captain, and they’d give him toy planes, and they’d ruffle his hair and say he looked just like his old man. Roger would agree, and Jake’s little heart would swell up with pride.

This time, though, Roger had only invited over the one friend. Captain Geralt had been over many times before, so Jake ran up and hugged him. Captain Geralt was the nicest out of his dad’s friends. He brought over soda, popcorn, and gifts. One time he’d let Jake wear his pilot hat, and although it drooped over his eyes, Captain Geralt had told him he looked like a real grown up.

Roger went out to do some work in the garage, leaving him and Captain Geralt watching the baseball game.

Jake was happily chatting away, and he didn’t mind when Captain Geralt draped his arm over his shoulder. His mum did that sometimes, and it was nice.

“You know, my dad got me a signed baseball,” he had said, and Captain Geralt’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s in my room, if you want to see it?”

Captain Geralt looked around the room before looking back at Jake. “I’d love to see it, kid.”

Jake frowned at that. “I may be only seven, but I’m the man of the house when my dad’s away,” he said, leading Captain Geralt up the stairs. He paused in the doorway of his room, frowning at his superhero bedsheets. That wasn’t very grown up, was it?

But then Captain Geralt was right behind him, nudging Jake inside, and Jake remembered what they were here for. He headed to his desk, paying no mind to his door shutting with a soft click, and opened one drawer after another.

“Here it is!” He pulled out the baseball, which had been tucked away since the glass incident, and turned around to show Captain Geralt triumphantly. The man was sitting on his bed, so Jake bounded over and sat next to him, passing the ball over.

Captain Geralt turned it over in one hand, and his left hand settled on Jake’s leg. “This is very cool, Jake. You know, I could take you to a baseball game sometime, if you wanted.”

His left thumb began tracing circles on Jake’s pants, and he shifted uncomfortably. He felt it’d be rude to move though, so he stilled.

“Really? I’ve never been to one in person before!” He grinned, then closed his mouth when he remembered the tooth missing at the front.

“Of course,” Captain Geralt said, and then he set the ball down beside him, looking at Jake in a way that made him queasy. “But I don’t know if you could handle it. The crowds are always huge at those games, and a little kid like you could get lost easily.”

Jake frowned. “I’m not a little kid,” he had said, stubbornly, puffing his chest out to prove it.

Captain Geralt’s hand tightened on Jake’s leg, and the other came up to cup Jake’s cheek. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “There’s a whole lot of things that grown-ups can do that little kids can’t.”

“Like what?” Jake asked. He thought about that spiderweb above his bed last year that he hadn’t managed to get down on his own. Before Roger had gotten rid of it, he had watched a bug fly into it. Each time it struggled, wings beating fruitlessly, it only got further stuck. Jake felt like that, now, as Captain Geralt leered down at him.

“Grown-ups kiss.”

“I kiss my mum all the time,” Jake said, eyes nervously glancing to the door. Captain Geralt didn’t look impressed. “Sometimes I kiss my friend, Gina.”

That was just on the forehead, but he didn’t want to tell Captain Geralt that.

“Grown-ups kiss in a special way,” Captain Geralt said, and then the spider was descending on him, his leg trapped against the web.

Jake screwed up his eyes and tried to reason himself through this. Grown-ups did this. Jake was a grown-up, right? So why was he so scared?

Panic gripped him as the spider got more insistent, limbs closing in on him, and he felt like he was being wrapped up like that bug, and he didn’t want the spider to bite his head off, even if that meant he wasn’t a grown-up.

Jake pushed him away and darted out of Captain Geralt’s arms, racing down the stairs towards the garage. He’d find his dad, and then his dad would tell Captain Geralt that Jake was just a kid, and he wasn’t ready for grown-up stuff. His sweaty hands slipped on the handle, but he finally got the door open.

The big garage door was shut, which was weird since Roger normally liked to let in a breeze, and his mum’s car was rocking slightly. He was about to call for his dad, not seeing him at the workbench he had set up in the corner of the garage, when he saw Roger pressed against a naked woman. Jake vaguely recognised her as one of his mum’s friends.

They were kissing in the way Captain Geralt had tried to teach him, and Jake’s stomach dropped. He shut the door, and hid in the bathroom until his mum came home.

Two hours pass without much action from the restaurant. The only good part is that Holt no longer seems mad at him, although his face gives away absolutely nothing that could confirm that. It just feels like the tension in the air has lifted, the waves of anger receded. Jake doesn’t know how to explain it.

Jake’s humming along to the Funky Cold Medina, and Holt hasn’t told him to turn it down once.

“Jacob,” Holt begins, and apparently Jake thought that too soon. He reaches for his phone to turn it down, but Holt continues, “it’s come to my attention that I’ve been overly harsh this past week.”

Well, that’s not what Jake was expecting. He slips his phone back in his pocket, and stares out through the windscreen, hands drumming on the steering wheel.

“No worries, Captain. I get it, I overstepped, and that was uncool of me.”

“No, I owe you an apology.” Holt turns towards him. Jake’s hands still. “So here it is. I apologise.”

He’s so sincere that Jake bursts out laughing. “You have to work on your sorry skills, man.”

He doesn’t mean anything by it, but Holt nods. “You’re right.” Now, that makes Jake do a double-take. “I apologise for taking my personal problems out on the squad, and on you especially. I acknowledge you were trying to help, and although I wish you had gone about it in a different manner, I appreciate your concern. I was embarrassed about my injury, and when you revealed it to Kevin, I behaved unprofessionally.  It was… uncool of me.”

Jake’s lips twitch. His smile is only tempered by his discomfort with serious conversations.

Jake dated many people after John, although they’re all mostly terrible relationships that last a month, at most. There was one girl, though, who he’d made it a whole six months with.

One night, they were in his apartment, and her hand was drawing patterns on his bare back. It felt really nice, and Jake sat there, letting this equally shirtless girl do that. She was gentle in a way his other partners hadn’t been, and she seemed to like Jake in a way the others hadn’t.

“What are these scars on your back?” She asked, tracing them with a fingernail in a way that sent shivers down Jake’s spine.

“Probably from some cool cop stuff,” Jake replied, even though he’d only been a cop for a year and so far, the coolest thing had been breaking up a mall fight with Stevie. Stevie and him had dated briefly, and it actually was pretty good for that month, but Stevie got transferred to a different precinct and they’d lost touch.

“They’re little jagged cuts,” she said, scratching around the outlines so Jake could envision them too.

“Oh.” Jake paused. “I was throwing a baseball around the house one day and I broke my mum’s TV cabinet. I fell on the glass, I think.”

“How’d you do that?”

Jake shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“What about this one?” She traced a long line that stretched from his right shoulder to his left side, stopping at his lower back.

“Um, I’m not sure.”

She removed her hand from his back, and sighed, frustrated. “When can I meet your parents?”

He managed to avoid that conversation, and all other conversations relating to closed doors and cars in garages and his parents, for another two months before she broke up with him.

Holt’s looking at him more seriously now. He puts a hand on Jake’s shoulder, and Jake doesn’t shake it off. He feels guilty, if anything, because it’s really not that big a deal, and here Holt is, pouring his heart and soul out.

“I never should have spoken to you in the way I did. I damaged your trust in me, which is unforgiveable given your history.”

“What history?” Jake asks, and Holt’s eyes widen in the way they do when Holt realises that he’s somehow stepped wrong in a conversation. But, taking a page out of Holt’s book, Jake refuses to drop it. “What history?” He demands.

“I don’t think we should have this conversation here,” Holt says.

Jake rolls his eyes. The rest of the stakeout is done in silence.

One time his dad had gotten really drunk. Jake was seventeen at the time, and his dad had strongarmed himself back into their lives again. To his credit, Roger was doing the best Jake had ever seen him, and it was a whole two months of happy family bliss.

His mum was working late, and Jake was three days from graduating, and his dad was going to be there. All he had to do was not screw it up.

His dad had promised him a great graduation gift, though he kept it a surprise. Jake was over the moon, but kept his guesses to himself. His dad was so cool, it was probably like, an actual plane. Was that something pilots could give their sons? He didn’t know, but he hoped that was it.

“What’s this, Jakey?” Came Roger’s voice from the fireplace. Jake looked up at the series of photographs on the mantle that Roger was gesturing towards. Roger had brought him McDonalds, which he was scarfing down on the couch.

Jake squinted at the one Roger was fixated on. It was him, his mum, and his mum’s ex-boyfriend at the Bronx Zoo. “Oh, that’s Derek,” he said through a mouthful of nugget. “Derek was cool. But nowhere near as cool as you,” he added hastily.

Roger’s expression had turned stormy, and he picked up the photograph. Jake got to his feet.

“Who the hell is Derek?”

“Just some guy Mum was seeing,” Jake said, plucking it out of his father’s hands and setting it back on the mantle.

“Is she still seeing him?” Roger demanded, stumbling towards Jake. Jake backed up.

“No,” he said, though he thought it was a bit unfair that Roger cared this much when he’d dated many, many, many women during and in-between his mum.

“Is she seeing other people?” Roger turned back to the mantle and swept his arm across it, knocking the photographs to the floor. They crashed to the ground, some of the frames splintering and the glass cracking.

Jake knelt to pick them up, and was caught-off guard by a kick to his back that knocked him to the ground.

“Who’s she seeing?” Roger roared as Jake, stupidly, kept trying to gather up the photographs.

“No one, Dad, jeez. You’re being paranoid.”

Which was probably the wrong thing to say.

“She’s turned you against me, hasn’t she?” Roger spewed, hands unbuckling his belt and pulling the long leather free. Jake cradled the photos to his chest. “You’re both conspiring against me, in this house, in my house-“

“It’s mum’s house,” Jake replied, and that had definitely been the wrong thing to say.

Roger’s face flickered, and he reared his arm back before bringing the leather belt down on Jake’s back.

When his dad got tired and stumbled to bed, Jake cleaned up the mess and told his mum that he’d knocked over the photos, and his mum said she was very disappointed. Roger didn’t stick around to his graduation, which was probably for the best since his back still hurt like a motherfucker and Jake didn’t want Roger to think he was weak.

Two months after the Wednesday incident, Roger Peralta waltzes into the Nine-Nine. It had been years since Jake had last seen him, so he’s excited, and even more so when Holt comes out of his office.

“Captain,” Holt greets coolly.

“Captain,” Roger says back, and Jake’s too excited by the exchange that he doesn’t particularly mind when Roger drops the bomb about the case against him.

He clears his dad’s name easily (he’s a brilliant detective, it’s not hard), Roger doesn’t show up to the bar, Jake confronts him, and then he returns to the bar for several depressing drinks.

“I don’t see why you need that man’s approval,” Holt says, sitting across from him. He’d already said he was proud of Jake that night, which was more than Jake thought he’d ever get from Holt, so this heart-to-heart is as equally unexpected. “He’s useless. Like a mosquito,” Holt adds thoughtfully, and Jake realises he’s drunk.

“Like a mosquito,” Jake agrees with a smile.

“Because you see, Jacob, mosquitos are fairly inconsequential to the food chain. That’s what Roger Peralta is,” Holt says, enunciating each harsh constant as he says Roger’s name, “an inconsequential bug that needs to hurt others to feel alive.”

And Jake realises then that Holt knows. Someway, somehow, Holt knows the secret that he hadn’t ever actually said allowed to Gina, no matter how many times he went to her after his dad’s outbursts.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he finds himself saying. He’s used to this part – to downplaying it, shrugging it off, no biggie, because Jake’s an adult now and he can handle his shit. But Holt just shakes his head and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Jacob, you’re like a son to me.”

Jake gets choked up, and he feels like he should have an intelligent response, but all he can say is, “Cool, cool, cool, no doubt.”

“And I want you to know that I care deeply for you. If you ever need to talk to someone, my door is always open.”

Jake does cry, just a little, but he thinks Holt’s eyes look a little misty, so it’s fine.

[rainbowcarousels]

I'm going to need your thoughts Sephiroth for the character asks 🥹🖤3 <3 <3

Sexuality Headcanon: Gay. So gay. Did I mention he's gay? I mean I think there is some potential wiggle room with Aerith but that's because her balls are bigger than his.

Gender Headcanon: I think in practice from an outsider POV, more agender than anything else. Gender is not really something that he thinks of and interacts with other than his discomfort with how he gets portrayed in the media. That said, I think if you asked him, he would say CIS male because that's how he self identifies so I'll respect that and say CIS male.

A ship I have with said character: Have I mentioned Genseph to you lately? No? Then I must be dead. Like I love AGSZC, I do, and even more than that, I love AGS in general because I believe they balance each other out but I could happily ship Genesis/Sephiroth on it's own maerits, but I can't see Sephiroth/Angeal on it's own. It's not a notp or anything, it just doesn't work in terms of balance for me. Genesia and Sephiroth fire and ice in balance and it just works. They push and pull at each other, both literally and metaphorically, and what they say and what their body says are sometimes in total contrast which fascinates me. Genesis is quite literally the choatic colour for a monochromatic world and Sephiroth needs that chaos to find himself so he doesn't get the desire for human smores.

A BROTP I have with said character: It's a toss up. I would say Aerith because that same feral energy comes from her (family trait clearly) but they both also have this shared experience of being former Shinra lab kiddos and her enthusiasm is only rivalled by Zack's. I feel like Sephiroth always needs someone to just grab him and move instead of asking him to come along and Aerith does that. That said, professionally, I'm fond of him and Tseng interacting. Like they have so much to deal with between choatic red heads and Heidegger being a few fries short of a moogle meal at his job, let them bond.

A NOTP I have with said character: Vincent. I can't ship something where 'that's not how your mum used to do it' is a response that could be canonically correct.

A random headcanon: Understands so much more than he's given credit for. I love to write roboseph as much as the next person, but I feel like he leans into it in a very Captain Holt type way and it's become part of his sense of humour to fuck with people by pretending he doesn't understand something or that he's not understanding their meaning till they get annoyed and let him be or call him on it. This is helped along by being so deadpan that it's almost impossible to know when he's being serious. He is a study in microexpressions and few people understand them.

General Opinion over said character: I think one of the things that throws me about Sephiroth is when people can't see CC era Sephiroth being the same guy as OG/AC era Sephiroth, but for me, this is one of the things that drew me to him as a character. That he is someone who got broken into pieces and is picking them up, emulating people, trying to rebuild a sense of self but clinging onto this belief that he's special because he's always been special. Like this is a person who is horribly broken in a lot of ways and one day, I want to write AC era and give him an arc with that but I think my main opinion of him is that I love that he's got all of these facets of his character.

He is the kid looking for validation and family from TFS, he is still the awkward dude from CC, he is the person who lost everything and chose to just get a meteor and start over and he's someone who is afraid of losing whatever he has of himself left. Like he contains multitudes, he's a fascinating character made all the more fascinating by the more normal things about him.

[shesgotthebeststories]

YOU WOULDN'T BE THE FIRST RENAGADE TO NEED SOMEBODY

a rosa diaz x oc fic

“the shape of you was jagged and weak”

a fic where rosa is not doing well after a case

CW: mentions of panic attacks, and scratching at chest until it bleeds a little. nothing too gorey i promise stay safe ml mwah

Maddy lay in bed, her eyes fixed on Rosa’s peaceful form beside her. The faint moonlight streaming through the blinds illuminated the soft contours of Rosa’s face, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Maddy had been watching her like this for over an hour, unable to sleep. Her mind was consumed by the terrifying thought of what could have happened—how close she came to losing Rosa today.

The events of the day played on a loop in her head. Rosa had been caught in a shooting at Brooklyn Heights. When the call came in, Maddy had felt her stomach drop, her mind racing to worst-case scenarios. And when Rosa had finally walked back into the precinct unharmed, Maddy hadn’t taken her eyes off her. Not for a second.

Jake had tried to get Rosa to open up about what had happened. She had brushed him off quickly, saying she just wanted a beer and silence. They had all respected her wishes, and the group spent the evening in quiet camaraderie. But now, hours later, Maddy realized those were the last words she’d heard Rosa say.

The ride back to Maddy’s apartment had been equally silent, with Rosa staring blankly out the passenger-side window. Maddy had tried to talk to her, gently probing to see if she wanted to share anything, but Rosa remained stoic, lost in her thoughts.

As Maddy replayed these moments, Rosa’s breathing shifted. It was subtle at first, a slight hitch, but it quickly escalated into sharp, rapid breaths. Alarmed, Maddy sat up, leaning over to gently rub Rosa’s shoulder.

“Rosa?” she whispered softly.

Rosa shot upright, her eyes wide and filled with panic. Her chest heaved as she gasped for air, tears streaming down her face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Maddy said, her voice steady despite her own rising anxiety. She placed a comforting hand on Rosa’s back, rubbing soothing circles. “You’re safe. What happened? You can tell me.”

But Rosa didn’t respond. Her breathing grew more erratic as she clawed at her chest, leaving angry red marks.

“Rosa, listen to me. It was just a nightmare. You’re safe. You’re at my apartment—Maddy’s apartment. The doors are locked. No one can hurt you here.”

Rosa shook her head, her tears falling faster. She abruptly stood and bolted for the bathroom, slamming the door shut and locking it behind her.

“Rosa, wait!” Maddy followed, panic gripping her as she knocked on the door. “Please open the door. Talk to me!”

“Just go away, Maddy!” Rosa choked out between sobs. “Leave me alone!”

Maddy stepped back, her heart pounding. She didn’t know what to do. She hated feeling helpless, especially when it came to Rosa. She looked around frantically, her eyes landing on her bedside table where her phone lay. Without thinking, she grabbed it and dialed the only person who might know how to help.

The phone rang twice before Captain Holt’s calm voice answered, tinged with grogginess. “Detective Montgomery? Why are you calling at this hour?”

“Captain, I—I don’t know what to do,” Maddy stammered, her voice trembling. “Rosa’s freaking out. She locked herself in the bathroom, and she won’t let me in. I’m scared—I don’t know what to do, and I—”

“Detective, take a deep breath,” Holt interrupted gently. “In through your nose, hold it, and out through your mouth. Follow me.”

Maddy obeyed, her breathing evening out as she mirrored Holt’s steady tone.

“Good,” Holt said. “Now, tell me what’s happening.”

“She was asleep, and then she started breathing really fast,” Maddy explained. “She woke up in a panic and ran to the bathroom. She won’t let me in, and she’s crying. I don’t know how to help her.”

“Alright,” Holt said, his voice calm and measured. “Here’s what you do: go to the kitchen and get her a glass of water. Then knock on the door again. If she doesn’t answer, tell her you’re there, speak slowly and calmly. If you sound stressed, it will only escalate her anxiety. After that, just talk to her—about anything. Share a story, even something mundane. In the past, distraction has helped her ground herself. She’ll come out when she’s ready. When she does, don’t push her to talk. Let her come to you.”

Maddy nodded, gripping the phone tightly. “Okay. I can do that. Thank you, Captain. I’m sorry for calling so late.”

“There’s no need to apologize, Detective,” Holt said. “Rosa is lucky to have someone who cares so deeply for her. Now, try to get some rest after this.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Maddy hung up and went to the kitchen, filling a glass of water with shaky hands. Maddy knocked softly on the bathroom door, her voice gentle but steady. “Rosa? Could you let me in, please? I’ve got some water for you.” She paused, straining to hear any response, but the silence on the other side was deafening. She set the glass of water on the floor just outside the door and slid down to sit against the wall, her knees pulled to her chest.

She took a deep breath and began speaking, her voice low but warm. “I still remember the first time I saw you,” she started, a small, wistful smile tugging at her lips. “You walked into the precinct, all confidence and leather, and I swear I forgot how to breathe. I was absolutely terrified of you but mesmerized at the same time. And, of course, Jake caught on right away. That little shit wouldn’t let me live it down for weeks.”

Maddy chuckled softly, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the cool tile floor. “He started trading cases with me just so I’d have to work with you. He thought he was being this brilliant matchmaker, but I was convinced you didn’t like me like that. Hell, I thought you barely noticed me.” She sighed, leaning her head back against the wall, her eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“And then that first night together…” Her voice softened, the memory vivid in her mind. “I didn’t sleep at all. I just lay there, watching you, terrified that if I closed my eyes, I’d wake up, and you’d be gone. That’s how it usually goes for me. But you proved me wrong.”

Maddy paused, her throat tightening at the memory. “You stayed. I walked out of my room the next morning, and there you were, standing in my kitchen, making breakfast in my clothes. I remember thinking, ‘Oh shit, so this is what it’s like to date Rosa Diaz.’ And then I thought, ‘Oh shit, I’m in love with Rosa Diaz.’” She laughed softly, the sound a mix of amusement and fondness.

Her voice grew steadier, more deliberate. “I love you so much, Rosa. Seriously. I love the way you act like you don’t like hugs but melt into them the second I wrap my arms around you. I love how you tease Jake relentlessly but secretly care about him like he’s your brother. I love your hair and the way you shiver when I run my fingers through it. I love your hands—how warm they always feel on my waist. And your smile, especially when you’re trying to hide it.”

Maddy’s voice wavered slightly as she continued. “I love how you know every single one of my expressions and exactly what to do when I’m sad or overwhelmed. And I love how you always make sure everyone else is okay. But…” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “I just wish you’d let me do that for you. I’m worried about you, Rosa. I really am. You went through so much today. And not just today—your whole life. I hope you know I’m here for you, always. Whatever you need.”

Maddy shifted slightly, leaning closer to the door. “We don’t have to talk about what happened if you’re not ready. We don’t even have to talk about it at all. But I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me about that stuff. I know it’s hard for you to open up, but you’ve done it with me before.”

She rested her head against the door, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “I promise you, Rosa, it would take the world exploding—and even then, it would still take more—for me to stop loving you. So please, don’t shut me out.”

There was a long silence, and for a moment, Maddy thought she might have to keep going. Then, a soft, broken voice came through the door. “It’s not that simple, Maddy.”

“I know it’s not,” Maddy said gently. “And I’m not asking you to flip a switch. I just want you to know I’m here, okay? Always. Whatever you’re feeling, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

She waited, her heart pounding, until finally, she heard the faint click of the lock. The door opened slightly, the soft light from the bathroom spilling into the dark bedroom. Maddy peeked around the door and saw Rosa sitting on the bathroom floor, her back against the cabinet, her chest still red and raw from her earlier panic.

Maddy slipped inside, closing the door gently behind her. She knelt down beside Rosa, her heart breaking at the sight of the tear tracks on her cheeks. Without a word, she reached up to wipe them away, then pulled Rosa into a tight hug. Rosa clung to her, her body trembling as she sobbed into Maddy’s shoulder.

Maddy rubbed Rosa’s back in soothing circles, murmuring softly, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

When Rosa finally pulled back, Maddy smiled at her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She opened the bathroom cabinet and pulled out the first aid kit. Rosa’s chest had small scratches, some of which were bleeding slightly.

“This might sting a little,” Maddy said softly, wetting a cloth and gently wiping Rosa’s chest clean. She applied a soothing cream and carefully placed a bandage over the deepest scratch. Rosa sat quietly, her head resting against the cabinet, her eyes closed.

Once Maddy finished, she stood and extended her hands to Rosa. “Come on,” she said, her voice warm and encouraging. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Rosa took her hands, letting Maddy pull her to her feet. Maddy led her back to the bed, tucking her in before climbing in beside her. As soon as she lay down, Rosa pulled Maddy close, resting her head on her chest.

Maddy wrapped her arms around Rosa, her fingers tracing gentle patterns on her arm. “I love you,” she whispered.

Rosa tightened her grip slightly, her voice muffled but sincere. “I love you too.”

And for the first time that night, Maddy felt Rosa begin to relax in her arms.

[muttsona]

top 5 B99 episodes?

OFFICIALLY MY FAVORITE ASK EVER. okay so spoilers for most of the show up ahead, BE WARNED! 

s1 e6, halloween – the original halloween heist episode is really important to me for a couple reasons actually. i think this is the episode where a certain bond between holt & jake is established. holt is willing to indulge jake in his crazy ideas, it just has me thinking: maybe holt really does care :) my favorite episodes are always the ones where jake gets the whole cast involved in his shenanigans, it really brings home the found family dynamic of the show. 

s4 e18, cop-con – this episode is also important to me for Holt Reasons. he wasn't mad that his team had disobeyed his orders to stay in line at the convention, he was mad that they hadn't thought to invite him. i think this is where we see the team involving their captain in their adventures more often. 

s5 e22, jake and amy – i think this episode was great for a lot of reasons, not just because of the Jake And Amy Finally Get Married bit. like, we watch literally everything go wrong on what was supposed to be their special day, but they still pull through. and i don't say this as a case of: wow they're so strong. no, they used their coworkers and boss to get there. im hearing you say: "wow zane why is this important??" im so glad you ask... jake has a known thing for hating to work on teams unless he can take charge, and amy has a similar deal where she always needs to be in charge as a way to make sure everything gets done correctly. but at this point in the show they had gained enough trust within the team to be like: yes, i trust you not to mess things up, even on our big day. it was something special to watch amy not crumble under the pressure of something she had planned so perfectly just go So Badly. it's something about the way she knew as long as she ended the day with jake, things would be fine. 

s3 e23, greg and larry – i always love the episodes with tons of plot twists, which is probably part of the reason i've always enjoyed this episode so much.  i love the idea of the team coming together to help out holt, who for the longest time had no one on the police force backing him up because of his identity as a black gay officer. this episode was also the start of the mess that was season 4, where jake & holt had to run off to florida to go undercover. i think the fact that holt and jake did the undercover mission together was really important to the story as a whole. by this point it's clear that holt sees jake as a son, and jake sees holt as a father figure; the anger that holt shows jake on this mission was really just thinly veiled care, and fear of seeing his son get hurt. 

s6 e18, the suicide squad – how do i even put into words how much i adore this episode. wow. members of the 99 are teaming up with their old allies to stop the corruption being caused by commissioner kelly. i think this entire episode just goes to show that they all care more about the good of the nypd rather than whatever beef they may have with whoever. decades of bitter rivalry is set aside so that they can stop the corruption from inside the police department. i think my favorite part of this episode was holt having to deal with the fact that if he messed this up it would be throwing away everything he had worked so hard as a police officer to achieve. he had fixed so many issues within the nypd at this point, and he had to decide between continuing a bitter rivalry versus saving everything he had worked to change. idk, one of my favorite parts of the show was always the way that holt very seriously cared about the core of the nypd remaining being about helping the citizens of new york, rather than turning into a game of politics. 

OKAY IM DONE BLABBING. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASK HEHE

[firstdraft]

— FIRST DRAFT writeblr reintroduction

ABOUT ME Hello! I'm Evan, also known as firstdraft or evancetera. As it's been over two years since my last introduction, and my pinned post is woefully out of date, I thought I'd write a new one. I'm also coming off a writeblr hiatus of sorts, and I'm very glad to be back!

So, about me! I'm 32 years old, non-binary, bi & aro/acespec, and my pronouns are they/them or he/him. I'm currently a part-time undergrad student, tentatively majoring in computer science, and I live in Michigan with my family and my cat. I have adhd, depression, and social anxiety, and I get chronic migraines.

LINKS twitter // wattpad // instagram

WORKS IN PROGRESS under the cut

CINDERWITCH Elisabeth Pryce is a witch, a dangerous thing in the kingdom of Vendyer, where magic users are conscripted to join the King’s army. Ell, however, is determined to keep her magic a secret, like her mother did before her untimely death. But when her father remarries, her new stepmother is quick to discover her secret.

The new lady of the house gives Elisabeth a choice. Use her magic for the benefit of her and her daughters, or be turned into the authorities. With her stepmother’s threat hanging over her head, Ell has no choice but to obey. After all, witches who ignore the king’s edict have burned — or worse.

When king holds a masquerade, intending to find a suitable wife for his only son, Ella’s instructions are simple. Attend the ball, dance with the prince, and cast a spell so powerful that he’ll fall in lover one of her stepsisters, making her his bride.

Do this, and Elspeth will be free of her stepmother forever.

All is not well in Llendyr, however, and Elspeth’s task will send her deep into a rebellious conspiracy, where romance is the last thing on her mind. Finally, her powers might be used for good — but at what cost?

BEAUTY'S THORN (working title) It’s been years since Belle managed to escape the monstrous Beast and his enchanted castle, sneaking off into the forest and finding her way home. She’s returned to her sisters and father, but the nightmares have remained, despite doing all she can to make sure that her and her family are now safe.

But when she hears that another girl from her village has gone missing, taken by the Beast, she knows that she has no choice but to save her, returning to stage a daring rescue. But how will she succeed, when the missing girl doesn’t wish to be rescued? Has Belle been wrong about the Beast and his castle the whole time? Or Is there something more sinister than even she imagined, tying them all to the cursed castle?

ICHORBORN One of many apprentice engineers in Londonium, Thaddeus Elliston spends his days elbow deep in engines and gears, and goes home to the boarding house at night too exhausted to enjoy the many pleasures of the city. Unlike his fellow students, Thaddeus has no family or sponsor to pay for his education. If he falls behind, he will be cast out, and his chance at a better life will be gone. Fortunately, he is at the top of his cohort, and one of the most brilliant gearworkers the headmistress has ever seen.

But skill means nothing when compared to wealth. And so, when his jealous classmates start a fight, it is Thaddeus who is expelled.

He believes his life is over until he receives a letter from Dr. Bartholomew Hughes, a reclusive alchemist responsible for the invention of Ichor, the new fuel that runs most modern machinery. With no other options, he agrees to meet Dr. Hughes at his country estate.

What he finds there will change his life forever. 

ARTEMIS RISING Captain Artemis Holt has been in charge of the U.N.I.S. Icarus for the past five years. In orbit over Mars, she’s overseen the transport of scientists and engineers to and from her home planet, and leads the first line of defense for Earth. Not that there are any aliens, or at least, living ones. But the evidence discovered on Mars is irrefutable — alien lifeforms exist. Or at least, they did. All that humanity has found are dead bodies and an untranslatable archive.

But, as the Daedalus Project is about to be shelved, the knowledge there too advanced for humanity to understand, the impossible happens. Millennia-old computers suddenly power up, and the archives are accessible once more.

And ships appear in the sky.

What they discover will shake the galaxy to its core. Someone has been hiding the Earth’s civilization from the rest of the universe, thus ensuring that Earth remained separate. But who is behind it? After all, the Vraekel have been dead for over a millennia.

[bonkwosher]

Full Boyle - Yandere!Charles Boyle x GN!Reader

A/N: It's funny because I got a very similar Wesker request. Also I've decided to start just quoting the request & pinging the requester when they aren't anonymous bc this is more aesthetically pleasing :)

Request/Prompt: hello!! :) could i please request yandere!charles boyle x reader? maybe reader is a new detective in the 99 and is a lot younger than boyle, but he knows reader is ‘the one.’ maybe he ends up kidnapping them or going full-Boyle, thinking he wouldn’t have a chance with them otherwise. thank you so much! i can’t wait to read it and also make a rosa request! ❤️ - @flowercrowns-goodvibes

Contains: Yandere dark shit (Obviously), age gap (LEGAL), early Brooklyn Nine-Nine time (Late S1?)

The officers had all gathered, talking about what they thought the new recruit would be like. Scully & Hitchcock expressed their desire for it to be another older man to join their duo.

"There is no way they are going to hire another old-timer," Peralta joked.

"I want another woman here, I can't deal with Jake being gross for one more second," Amy spoke up.

"You're right Amy, another woman here would be cool," Jake joked suggestively.

"Okay, that's disgusting."

The group paused as they heard Captain Holt talking. He was personally showing you around the precinct. He arrived at your new desk, across from Boyle's, & turned to the team.

"Why is everyone staring?" Holt asked with the same deadpan look he always had.

"Are they the new recruit?" Amy asked excitedly.

Holt nudged you to introduce yourself, "Hello everyone! I am Y/N L/N, I'm fresh out of the academy & I am the new recruit!"

Everyone got excited & the group began introducing themselves to you. You thought you had met everyone but your new captain was looking around, seemingly confused.

"Where is Boyle?"

"He was just here, right next to me," Jake spoke up.

"Well, he'll introduce himself whenever he comes back. Welcome to the precinct, Y/N. Come with me to my office, I'll get you your first case."

The truth is, Boyle left because he was absolutely awestruck. He was too afraid to talk to you, you captured his heart without even saying a word to him. His heart was racing & he was blushing hard.

Over the next couple of months, Boyle managed to talk to you. Jake definitely noticed the crush & tried to set you two up. Possibly a coincidence, likely somehow Jake's fault, but you were constantly paired up with Boyle. He took note of your preferred morning beverage & snacks, being sure to bring you some when you forgot. You grew to like his weird quirks & your laugh was like music to Boyle's ears. You actually started to get a crush on your dork of a coworker. Everything seemed completely fine... well.

Boyle pulled Jake away from his conversation with Amy & into the men's restroom, insisting it was urgent. He checked under each stall as Jake stood with his arms crossed, completely confused.

"Boyle, what is going on?"

Once the coast was clear, Boyle grabbed onto Jake's shoulders, "Jake, I messed up!"

"What do you mean?"

"I went Full Boyle!"

Jake let out a laugh, "Oh come on, Boyle. That's nothing new, this could have waited. Welp, we're here anyways, what did ya' do?"

Boyle fidgeted with his hands, he decided to tell the truth.

You showed up just on time, you usually preferred to show up fifteen minutes early to events but considering this was a one-on-one dinner at your crush's house... you decided to be predictable. You knocked at the door & it opened almost immediately like he was waiting for you to knock. Boyle looked you up & down quickly, jaw dropped.

"You look amazing, Y/N! Come on in," he made room for you to walk past him.

You blushed as the man guided you to the kitchen table. It was set up very romantically with roses. You were shocked to say the least, the two of you were supposedly just having a casual dinner.

"What's all this?"

"Only the best for you, Y/N. Speaking of, I'll go get the food! Please, have a seat," Boyle pulled a chair out for you as you spoke.

Once you sat down, Boyle headed to the kitchen & returned with two plates of beautiful food.

He set a plate in front of you first, "Please, dig in."

You happily obliged him & began eating the food. It tasted even better than it looked. Boyle almost forgot to eat, addicted to your reactions to something he worked so hard to give you. As the food slowly but surely dwindled & the wine disappeared from your glass, Boyle's confidence grew. He decided it was time.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?" You looked up, cheeks rosy from the wine.

His eyes softened, his brain pulled to other thoughts, "I love you."

You were taken aback. You liked the man, yes, but this was a jump. You thought he might like you, but love you? That's a lot. Maybe he misspoke? Well, you do like him... maybe just roll with it?

"I'm sorry," Boyle spoke, dragging you from your thoughts, you hadn't noticed your weird expression as you thought about the topic at hand.

"No, Charles, it's okay. I-" You began.

"No, I'm sorry. Let me get you more wine."

Boyle took your glass & returned to the safe space that was his kitchen. In a moment of anxiety, he made a stupid decision. He couldn't lose you, not over some slip-up. You weren't leaving. He grabbed some NyQuil from the cabinet & poured it into your wine before returning to the table. He set your glass down in front of you before sitting back down. You awkwardly grabbed the glass & swirled it a little bit.

"Look, Boyle," you spoke slowly, trying to find the right words, "Love is a strong word, but hey, I do like you a lot."

Boyle's eyes widened. He misread the situation. It was too late to stop you, the glass touching your lips the moment you finished speaking.

You shook your head, adjusting to the new taste, "Was that the same bottle? That tasted... different?"

"Oh yeah, it was, um, heavier on the grapes?"

"Huh, that is odd," you were already feeling drowsy from the sheer amount of sleep meds, "I feel... off."

Your worst fears flooded your mind. Did Boyle drug you to take advantage of you? He wouldn't do that, would he?

"I should get home- before I get you sick," you struggled to come up with a believable excuse.

"Oh, nonsense," the man across from you stammered, quickly minimizing the distance between you, "You should lay down if you feel weird though. Would you prefer the couch or my bed?"

Poor guy didn't mean to make the situation worse, he just wanted to go back in time right now. You pulled away from Boyle's embrace, really only scaring him more.

"No, I should just take an uber home. This feels really bad. I don't want to be a burden. Plus, work tomorrow!" You were rambling at this point.

"Y/N, please, just lay down on the couch. I can make you some soup or get you some medicine!"

"Boyle, I want to go home," You head was spinning, staying awake becoming a difficult task.

"Y/N, please-" Boyle tried to grab your arm.

As you ripped away from his grasp, you fell back. Your head hit the floor, it wasn't a big hit. It was enough to daze you though. You looked up at Boyle before finally losing the fight against sleep. You were now out cold on the floor of Boyle's hallway.

Boyle paused as he noticed how crazy he looked, "Nothing- It's nothing."

"Oh come on man, I know how bad you can be. It's not like you kidnaped Y/N or-"

Boyle let out an obnoxiously fake laugh, "No, I wouldn't do that."

"Boyle," Jake now sounded serious, he saw through the laugh.

"What?"

"You did not."

"I didn't," Boyle nodded.

"Don't lie to me, Boyle."

"Who, me? I could never lie! Ring ring ring! Woah, is that my phone?" Boyle laughed awkwardly before running out of the room.

Later that day, Captain Holt stepped out of his office. He looked around for a moment, silently, gaining Amy's interest.

"What is it, Captain?" She asked.

"Oh, Y/N just didn't call in for work. I was checking if they just forgot to clock in & were here all along."

A/N: I am so sorry that this took so long, I have been busy with school, other requests, & being too drained to write. I finally did it! I hope it lived up to expectations!

[cat-esper]

therizinosaurus - share a scene that you’ve put a lot of work into and stegosaurus - share a humorous scene for the ask game?

Hey, thanks for the ask!

Therizinosaurus - share a scene that you've put a lot of work into

For this one, I'm going to share a snippet from Music of the Spheres, the book that will ultimately be the death of me. It's already been through what feels like a million iterations, but probably the bit I've worked on the most, aside from the first chapter, is the Monster Chapter (I've since chopped it up into smaller chapters but it will always be the Monster Chapter to me), which looks nothing like it did in draft 1 and will likely look nothing like the final draft. Still, here's a piece of it:

“Give as much as you can to the shields and bring us hard to starboard. Don’t compensate for rotational drift. Fire when ready.” It was maddening. It was all I could do not to tear my hair out. Pacing wouldn’t help. What was going on here? Were we losing? From the looks of it, we were losing. Another jolt came. And another. Everyone looked worried. Kri looked worried. I’m pretty sure I looked worried. “Shields down, attempting to compensate.” “Hull breach on Deck E.” Oh god, we were losing. “There are too many of them,” I said. I imagined what it would be like to lose life support, to get sucked into the vacuum of space and die. It always seemed like an unpleasant way to go. I clenched and unclenched my fists, sweat seeping through the bandages. Every shudder threw me against the wall and every shudder might have been the last. People were talking over each other, giving status reports that kept getting worse and worse as we tried to run. “Engines failing.” “Do we abandon ship?” I could only see the back of Captain Holt’s head but I imagined the grim look on her face. “The Krintoc will pick us off.” “We're drifting toward the planet. I'm getting nothing from the engines." “Everyone, brace for impact.” Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. I reached for the nearest chair and grabbed onto it, thankful it was bolted down. We were going to crash. My skin went hot and then cold. We were going to crash. Kri knelt next to me. I hadn’t even realized I’d gotten on the floor. All around me, I heard, “All hands. We are planet bound. Brace for impact. All hands. We are planet bound.”

Stegosaurus - share a humorous scene

This one's from The Last Paladin, book 1:

“Imagine me knowing two famous people,” Alexos said once they’d gotten sandwiches which were close enough to recognizable that Chelsea had no qualms about stuffing her face with them. “I’m not famous,” Chelsea said, starting to wish he would get over his obsession with the fact that she had spoken to Shay Finnegan a grand total of one time. “Are you famous?” she joked, looking at Chyan. “Uh…” Chyan quickly took a bite of her sandwich. “What? No way…” “Yes way,” Alexos chimed in. “You don’t know who this is? Of course not, you’ve lived on backwater, tiny marble Earth your whole life, you poor potato.” “Hey.” “Her father is Leyar of Caim. Robotics engineer. His partner is Dr. Kane effing Laakkonen. They took AI up to the next level. I bet you never heard of Eremon either. Most sophisticated android ever created. You can’t tell the difference between him or a Denebian. Looks close enough to pass for human too.” Alexos put a hand on his heart, sweeping the hair out of his face. “In an expanding universe, it’s not the gods who rule. It’s Laakkonen AI. Longevity, perseverance, discovery. Breaking the boundaries to see the future,” he said in an announcer’s voice like he was imitating an advertisement. “Shh. Sit down.” Chyan tugged on his shirt and he promptly plopped back down. He ran a hand through his hair. “I have done my humble duty introducing you two. Chelsea, I won’t take it personally if you run off to see this ground-breaking technology and leave poor old me behind.”