#She then clarifies that's the only thing they got for public transport

[forgettable-au]

FORGETTABLE-AU (page 82-85)

THAT LAZYBONES!!

[BEGINNING] [PREVIOUS] [CONTINUE]

[spxdxrpxnk]

PAVITR loves you with everything he has, and he knew you loved him just the same.

and.. and that's something he actually kinda hates- even though he'd never, ever say that out loud.

( notes: this is written by a minor, so nsfw/18+/'minors dni' blogs please do not interact with this post! thank you!

this went from a paragraph to 2k words. i am in love with pavitr prabhakar. reblog )

he loved you so much that you were the first person he revealed his secret identity to! ... or- or built that identity with, rather? seeing as he came to you when he first started experiencing spider powers.

peace and quiet was never really a thing when it came to your relationship with PAVITR.

his bright smile and seemingly endless energy was contagious, so you two often got into the craziest of shenanigans when he'd look at you with that glint in his eye and that smile on his face.

you felt like you were ready for anything pav could throw at you.

... but you really weren't ready for things to be sticking to him rather than being thrown at you.

you heard him when he came into your house, heard his polite yet rushed greetings to your parents before he burst into your room like a madman. there was a piece of paper stuck to one of his hands. he looked like he'd just finished a marathon, or just barely escaped a pack of angry dogs, all flushed and panting heavily.

and considering he lived a considerable distance from you but always chose to walk instead of taking public transportation, you didn't doubt he actually ran the whole way.

before you could even get a word out, PAVITR was frantically calling your name, closing your door and locking it and holding out his paper covered hand. you got a peek of it before he started pacing frantically, and saw that it was an essay for the physics class you both shared.

an essay for physics sounds crazy, and.. well, it is, but PAVITR wanted extra credit to ensure a big fat A+ for the class by the end of the semester.

ever the overachiever.

"what do i do, what do i do-" he questioned frantically, shaking his paper covered hand as if it was burned in an attempt to get his essay off. "you see this!!" PAVITR shouted as he stopped pacing and turned to you, showing you his hand again.

you only nodded, pure confusion on your face, before he started pacing again.

"it's finished, all of it, but it won't come off my hand-"

"pav-" you tried to get a word in, trying to think of a question that could clarify any of that, but you were rendered speechless before you could even finish his name.

you watched, in pure awe, as he just.. started walking up your bedroom wall, and began pacing like that.

he'd make it halfway up the wall, frantically mumbling about how he "can't pull it or i'll rip the paper and it's due tomorrow- literally tomorrow morning!!!- and i- she won't give me an extension and-", before he turned and returned to the floor as if it was nothing.

"pav!" you called a little louder, and PAVITR actually froze in his tracks while standing on your wall, like a cartoon character. he had to lift his head to look at you, eyebrows furrowed with a frustrated pout on his face.

"what??" he asked you, as if you were the one bugging him, when he was getting footprints! all on your wall!!!

and you? you loved him so much that you always worried for him whenever he had to put on the mask to go fight crime, save lives, and put himself in danger to keep the random citizens of mumbattan safe. even kiss a baby or two, when he could be kissing you instead and not some stinky baby, if the day called for it.

and maybe, just maybe, you were a little selfish. but you did have his best interest at heart, and that's what counts.

you always told him to come to you if he had big injuries he couldn't tend to on his own.

you weren't a certified professional, or even studying medicine like that, but.. who needs professional training when you have youtube and a few stolen practice materials from school?

when PAVITR came to you one day with a pretty deep cut on his arm, you were so mad. it was the first time he'd ever seen you so upset at him, and he didn't know what else to do besides apologize. but you were quick to shush him.

"i'm not mad at you, pavi," you said. but the furrow in your eyebrow, the frustration in your voice, and the way you pulled the gauze a little too tight didn't help ease him at all. "i'm mad at the.. the assholes that think it's okay for them for hurt a teenage boy!"

"... everyone thinks i'm over twenty, if that makes it any better...?"

the deadpan look you gave told him 'no, that didn't make it any better.'

"i know you have to be the big tough spidey and keep all the bad guys away, but it sucks seeing you get hurt for people who probably wouldn't even do the same for you. for a bunch of.." you struggled to find the word, pausing with the gauze pulled taut between the blades of the medical scissors from the first aid kit you bought specially for him.

PAVITR really wanted to rub the wrinkle between your brows away, kiss that pout off your lips until you were smiling and giggling, but he loved seeing you like this even more.

when you couldn't think of a word during your passionate rants, you always came up with something so good-

"NPCs!"

'snrk- sounds about right.'

"and you, honey." he reminded you gently, watching as your expression softened with just those three words. you sucked your teeth as the scissors snipped!, severing the gauze around his arm from the very skinny roll in your hand.

and PAVITR knew he got you with that.

he knew, because you always sucked your teeth or scoffed, and then started messing with something to give yourself an excuse to look away from him whenever you got flustered.

you gently tucked the loose strand into the wrapped gauze, patting his now-properly-taken-care-of arm like it was a shiny new car.

he almost, almost complained that you were missing something, before you kissed your palm and softly patted your hand on his cheek in the way that made him giggle and flush a little, because it was so dumb.

and PAVITR loves you for caring about him so much, he really does, but hates how much you do. and that actually makes a ton of sense, if you think about it.

because, well, he loves having you dote and fawn over him; gently reprimanding him for being reckless and getting more hurt than he needed to. you'd press little kisses on his cheek, which would be bruising from a hit he probably could have dodged, to distract him from the uncomfortable sting of the warm, soapy water you were using to clean an open wound.

but he hates that you care so, so much, that you'd run head first into danger for him.

you, who didn't have the super cool spider powers like he did.

you, without the agility, or the heightened senses, or the quick healing.

normal, average you.

you would risk your life for him, just because you didn't like seeing him hurt, even though he'd heal fully within the week while it'd take you months.

he really wasn't paying as much attention as he should have at that moment, PAVITR admits that much.

stopping a gang of armed men from robbing a bank should have had his full attention, but you were there at the time.

he was walking you home when you heard all the commotion from across the street, and you rolled your eyes with a huff before pushing him into an alleyway so that he could change into his spidey suit.

he wanted to show you how effortless it was for him to fight crime and come out unscathed.

so that maybe, just maybe, you'd stop worrying.

he'd disarmed the guys early into the fight, but they were a pretty slippery bunch. PAVITR got most of them webbed to a wall for the police to handle later, which he thought was all of them, and was ready to swing off to change.

but he was still pretty new to being spiderman, and his spidey sense sometimes lacked.

he wouldn't have sensed the guy running at him full force with a bat until it was too late.

you noticed, though.

and you weren't the smartest either here, sure, whatever. yeling at him to watch out, to turn around- almost anything else would have been better than what you did.

which was running at the guy, tackling him to the ground before he could swing the bat.

you had the spirit, you really did.

it took your very surprised boyfriend with his spidey strength and a few other random bystanders to pull you off.

you were really holding your own, just.. wailing on the guy that tried to attack him. wild fists, some harsh kicks to very sensitive areas thrown in there. even a full force headbutt that left the dude with a bloody, probably broken nose and you with a slight headache.

of course, you didn't come out unscathed, and PAVITR wasn't too happy.

thankfully, he can never stay mad at you for too long.

and yeah, he hates when you get hurt because of how much you care for him, sure- but he'll never get tired of the moments you share after.

"to be fair," you'd started, sitting on his bed with him standing in between your thighs as he placed some very soothing healing cream on your bruises.

he was quiet the whole way to his house, and quiet when he pulled out his own first aid kit ( which was way smaller than yours, by the way ). "he would have gotten you right in the head if it weren't for me. i saved you from possible brain damage, don't i get a thank you?"

and man, if looks could kill…

you'd probably be fine, because PAVITR could never bring himself to glare at you with everything he's got.

no, he loves you too much.

instead of the angered, fiery look he attempts, he gives you a look akin to that of a kicked puppy. "thank you for saving me from possible brain damage. my hero." he replies sarcastically, a pout evident in his voice as he applies the last of the cream and closes the tube, tossing it aside to cross his arms at you. "but i really don't appreciate you getting hurt in the process."

you didn't reply immediately, instead staring at him with an overly smug expression that he pointedly avoided, furrowing his eyebrows. before you could open your mouth to say the four words that would stop PAVITR's entire argument before he even started, he basically said it for you.

"i sound like you." he stated defeatedly, which made you laugh at how ironic it was.

PAVITR sighed heavily, head dropping to rest on your chest. you brought up your arm to pat his back. "now you know how i feel." you told him with a mocking voice, which he gave a muffled whine to since his face was buried in your chest. you laughed again, leaning your head down to press a kiss to his pretty head.

"please never do that again." he mumbled, pure sadness in his voice, and you think you can hear your heart break a little. you smile fondly, rubbing circles on his back.

"no promises, sunshine. spiderman has to get saved once in a while, so that his ego doesn't inflate too much."

PAVITR lifts his head to narrow his eyes at you, trying and failing to hold back a smile at the cheeky look on your face. "i'm being serious."

"i am too! i'm telling you, that guy has such a big head, it's a wonder how he gets that headband around it!" you'd tease him, giggling happily and reflexively shrinking away from him when he places his fingers on your waist.

you lifted your hands, one of them wrapped snug with the last of his soft cotton gauze since you kinda grabbed the guy's fist when he tried to swing on you- like the total badass you were. nothing was broken or fractured or out of place, but it did hurt like hell. neither of you knew what to do besides wrap it and hope the gauze inflicted a healing aura or something.

thankfully, your always honest boyfriend said you looked so cool when you did, which makes you think it was worth it.

"i love seeing this pretty face when it's not all bruised up- even though you're handsome either way." you tell him, tone all mushy-gushy and baby-ish the way it is when you're genuinely complimenting him but playing it off as a joke, a gentle smile on your face as you kiss his nose.

PAVITR smiles along with you, bright and happy and a total contrast from the tragic kicked puppy look he just had.

this was a pretty typical situation for you both, only the roles would be reversed: you'd be reprimanding him for getting hurt while he cracks jokes and flirts with you until you lighten up. and he's all flustered now, since he's always weak for your compliments.

he knows he has a point, the way you always do, and an entire heartfelt rant about how he's a superhero and you're not and you have to stay out of harm's way was right on the tip of his tongue.

but with his flushed cheeks and dopey smile, he decides to hold it off.

instead, PAVITR just pulls you close ever so carefully so that he doesn't strain any of your injuries further, nuzzling his nose to yours in a little bunny kiss before properly kissing you on the lips ever so softly.

and if he tasted a little blood from the benign split in your lip, he didn't say anything.

[hi-im-dazey]

I got in a heated debate with my home town over exactly this.

They wanted to make the downtown closed to car and bus traffic, remove the main parking lot and replace it with bike lockers. They posted this on their Facebook town hub thingy.

I pointed out that not everyone could ride a bike, and got answers like

"Well the light rail is just up at the end of town!" (it drops off at the main drag on one end, it does not go through the downtown or connect with any transportation that DOES go down the main drag, mainly because there isn't any public transport down the main drag)

"Well anyone can LEARN to ride a bike!"

"Then you can walk! There won't be any cars to worry about!"

"Have you tried a (tricycle, balance bike, recumbent, electric assist cycle)"

and, in a brilliant display of completely missing the point and simultaneously bringing up another, different, completely valid point, that they also did not understand,

"If you can't afford a bike, you can look for used ones, they are much cheaper." I replied

"Sorry let me clarify, not everyone is physically capable of riding a bike, unless this plan takes into account that some people will NEED to drive or get driven, or need accessibility taken into account for mobility aids, then it's a bad plan. You've lost your hat. Any plan where you lose your hat is a bad plan." Years later (after they did not end up fixing the issues with the plan and just decided to pretend it was never suggested instead) They came up with a new plan to make permanent "parklets" which are these small semi enclosed seating areas along the sidewalk.

To encourage people to gather and eat and hang out so forth.

They post the architect's concept drawings of them. On the Facebook hub. I believe you will be exactly 0% surprised to learn that these parklets are entered by a step DOWN into them and are fixed tables and seating with no way to make room for walkers or wheelchairs, or people who have balance issues or size concerns.

AND to top it off, The were taking up half the existing sidewalk and several storefront (convenient for people who cannot walk long distances) parking spaces all along the district.

So not only can't you use them, but if you use any mobility aid the sidewalk just got 50% more fucked, space-wise, for you to use.

Again I sailed in and pointed all of this shit out. Again they fucking dropped it like they never even mentioned such a thing.

Here's the kicker, they never asked for any suggestions on HOW to fix it. Never posted when the City Council would be hearing from the public, never approached anyone who was pointing these things out (I wasn't alone on the parklet concerns)

All I could think of was this:

One of my best friends, who lived on the second street (I lived on third) had Cerebral Palsy, he walked everywhere with two canes, and every time I see shit like this I thought

"Well how the fuck is my friend supposed to get anything done? There's not going to be enough room for him to get down the street, and I won't be able to get him close enough in the car to drop him where he needs to go."

and

"I guess my mom is SoL, since she has to park close because of her fucked up hip, ankle, and knee, and they are going to do away with blue parking, since they don't want cars there."

and

"When my back eventually gives me the big 'Screw you, hippie." I guess I am no longer welcome in my hometown." (I have a birth defect that will eventually take my mobility)

People planning this shit have no empathy, and no concept of their own fragility.

They can ride a bike now, sure, but will they be able to later? It's like it never occurs to them that people can also BECOME dependent on mobility aids, in addition to being born needing equity assistance.

I'm so tired of the whole "hey when you're designing walkable cities make sure to include disabled people so we can access the town too" gets turned into "are you saying walkable cities are ableist??" Which turns into people calling us a bitch for trying to explain that we currently live in a walkable city but can't leave the house alone because the sideways slope of the sidewalks and deep inclines for the streets make every street crossing a broken bone risk.

I live less than a mile from a carless town square, a library, two grocery stores, a post office, a medical clinic, a mental health crisis center, laundry mats, ice cream shops, book shops, bakeries, restaurants, more than I can even remember. It's amazing and exactly what a lot of you dream of. The street crossings are super safe for pedestrians, people can jog, ride bikes, and push strollers just fine. Except I still can't access any of it safely and anyone using a wheelchair or scooter is in danger. But apparently I'm an oil industry shill and a bitch for pointing that out instead of a disabled person who wants to get groceries or check a book out at the local library a few blocks away.

[quietmyfearswith]

i’ll drive ; august walker x fem!reader 2/3

status — completed series

word count —  5,933 words

warnings — SMUT, unprotected penetrative sex, soft!august, confused!august

pairing — august walker x fem!reader

a/n — so i had driving lessons last september and thought abt how wow it would make a great story if a driving instructor fell for their student,, and the og idea had in mind was that for a dark fic i might still do one though idk but i never really knew which character to do it for. then i was like what if he was pretending to be a driving instructor and since i just watched mi fallout sometime last month thought id be perfect for august!! sorry i couldn’t publish this any faster, had some things going on offline so yeah lmk what you think of this chapter. there’s only one chapter left!  Y/F/N = your father’s name

masterlist | series masterlist

“You want me to do what?” August scoffed as he read the mission file he was handed. Sloane raised a hand to the other agent who was about to explain it again; she knew that the Hammer would more likely accept the mission if she convinced him.

“We want you to pose as a driving instructor; from there you’ll be assigned to Y/N. Her father is Nick Roberts; do you recall who he is?” Nodding, August placed the folder on the desk and looked at Sloane with a scowl, “Yeah, I do. He transports Perez’ drugs and firearms in and out of the country; possibly close ties to even more underground activity.” 

“Suspected of transporting,” The other agent — August didn't bother remembering his name since he rarely got to work with him anyway — clarified. “And how will me posing as a driving instructor get us to Nick Roberts?”

“Nick Roberts is just an alias; his real name is Y/F/N, and the one you’ll be assigned in teaching is his daughter. You get close to her, you’ll be able to get to Roberts.” It seemed like too big of a stretch, August quietly reflected; what if she cut ties with her father? What if he really wasn’t her father?

“Considering this is the only lead we have so far on Perez’ case, I’ll do it,” He eventually conceded; Sloane was pleased with that as she smiled, “Very well, take that case file with you to familiarize yourself with Y/N. Your lessons with her will be from Monday to Friday, the whole of next week. Understood?”

With a nod, he grabbed the case file and stood up to exit the room. Heading to his office, he figured that it was best to find out what he can about this Y/N. He read about how she had graduated college and has been steadily working in her chosen profession. Since the separation of her parents she lived with her dad, and by the looks of it has a close bond with him. It was amusing to him how someone of her age still doesn’t know how to drive; but nevertheless it was a blessing in disguise that she didn’t since it helped with their case.

Though her case file had her passport and driving permit photo, August made a reckless decision to look up if she had any social media accounts; and she did. It wasn’t usual for him to look up their target’s social media accounts — in the past he would settle for the provided picture on the mission reports and from there familiarize himself with what they looked like — but there was an itch he needed to scratch. There was something about Y/N that motivated him to look at her photos, thankfully her account was on public. “Can’t wait to see you soon, love.”

Henry James was his alias for this mission and here he was leaning against the parked car as he was waiting for Y/N. He held his breath once the door opened and revealed a girl in a romper. “Hi! Are you Henry?” She was too cheerful in her greeting he noted; perhaps that had something to do with how young and innocent she was. Nodding sternly, “See anyone else beside me, sweetheart?”

She giggled at his remark as she tucked her hair behind her ear — a nervous habit she’d develop. “Go ahead and settle yourself on the front seat.” She nodded and made her way over to the driver’s seat. As she sat down, she placed her bag on the console, “You have your learning permit?” She grabbed the piece of paper that was in the pocket of her romper and handed it over to him; he thanked her as grabbed it and filled out the information he had, “Do you know what to do once you get in the car and onto the driver’s seat?” 

“Adjust the seat, adjust the mirrors, check the lights, and make sure I have gas,” She listed out as she did all of those. Clicking the pen once he’s filled in the necessary information he turned to her with a raised brow, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” Looking around her, she tried her best to recall the driving lessons she took and when nothing seemed missing to her she just shook her head no with a slight pout — August originally thought was a childish and foolish expression but she just made it look downright adorable.

Y/N held her breath as Henry leaned over to her so close that their noses nearly touched and his fingertips brushed against her skin as he grabbed the seatbelt, dragging it across her to click it in its place. She didn’t expect him to get that close to her, but she certainly wasn’t complaining when it gave her an up close view of how good he looked in that polo shirt; and the man too was surprised at his sudden move — he was debating with himself that he only did so to ensure her safety, just so she’d be alive and share about her father’s whereabouts, but there was this part of him that was convinced that he just wanted a reason to be close to her. “You’re forgetting the most important safety precaution, sweetheart; and that’s to wear your seatbelt.”

Smiling nervously at him she apologized to which he simply grunted at, “I trust you know how to start the engine?” Her confident persona surfaced, her right hand turned the key to start the car as her left hand rested on the wheel. “What do you need to do before pulling away?”

“Check the mirrors for any oncoming vehicles,” She glanced at the rear and side view mirrors, “Look over to your blind spot,” Twisting her head to look over her shoulder and verify that there was no one or nothing that was incoming, “Signal then drive away.” Turning on her signal light, she put the car from park to drive and began leaving her front yard.

August was impressed with her — for someone who was such a fumbling mess earlier was really focused on driving; he thought that was rare for a beginning driver, as they were far too excited at the thought of getting to go anywhere they wanted. “Good job. I have to say your focus is impeccable as well,” His compliment got her nervously saying thanks. “What’s the speed limit for residential areas?”

“30 kilometers per hour; Do I Just go straight?” They were nearing an intersection and she was told, “Yeah go straight; we’re not leaving the neighborhood just yet.” She nodded and just before she got to cross the intersection she hit the brakes smoothly as there was a stop sign. “One car there, still empty there,” Y/N took note as she moved her head left and right to check the traffic situation.

Once the road was clear she drove straight ahead and her instructor applauded her, “When you take the test, don’t be afraid to talk to yourself like that if it helps. And don’t forget to check if there was already a car from the opposite direction with a stop sign; know why?”

She nodded firmly as her eyes shifted from the road ahead, the rear view mirror, and the speedometer, “Because then they’d have right of way.” August noticed how the tone of her voice would differ; during the earlier part of their interaction, it was soft and low, but now as they drove around it was loud and clear. “When is your driver’s exam again?” He knew when she’d take it — he just thought that by asking that he’d somehow be able to milk information regarding her father.

“This Saturday,” She responded and it seemed that she was nervous about it given how her voice lowered again. “Turn right at the next intersection,” He ordered her. Seeing that she had no stop signs in her direction, she turned on the signal light and moved to the appropriate lane. Once she checked that there were no pedestrians crossing, moved to complete her turn.

“Notice how there weren’t any stop signs on two sides and yet there were on the two?” When she nodded he quizzed her again, “What does that mean?” Before answering him there were kids who were about to cross and she stepped on the brakes, coming to a complete stop and smiled as she signaled for the kids to cross. As she waved at the kids who smiled and yelled thank you she answered him, “Means that I have the right of way; even if someone arrives from the directions with stop signs they have to wait for me to pass before going on.”

“It’s great that you know the answers, some don’t,” He fed her some bullshit to which she bought as she softly laughed. “Well I don’t want to have to retake the exam,” Her lack of use of the word again caught his attention and was quick to ask about it, “This is really your first time taking the test?”

She nodded yes as she stopped at a four way stop, allowing a pickup truck that stopped before her. “How come?” Pressing her foot on the gas, she brought the car forward as she explained, “I don’t know really. My dad usually brings me to places or I take the public transport.” Bingo, August thought, here’s a chance to know more about his whereabouts. “And now? You’re dad can’t take you? Turn left on the next intersection.”

Nodding, she checked the pedestrian if there was someone crossing and stopped at the stop sign to check for any oncoming vehicles, “He’s so busy with work that he can’t. Especially now that he’s out of town.” Not enough information, August thought; but he thought that by asking more questions he’d come off as too nosy. “Do you know how to park uphill and downhill?” 

“I know which direction I have to turn the wheels to but I haven’t done that yet,” He nodded and instructed her on what to do. After teaching her how to do so properly, they took a break as August made some pointers over the things he observed as she drove. “It’s good that you keep your eyes moving around to check your surroundings; but don’t stay focused on one place for too long.”

Looking over at her, his heart beat fast with how her eyes looked wide and eager — and somehow he adored how innocent she looked, as she had no idea on what kind of world she got herself involved in ; it distracted him for a while but he managed to tear his gaze on her as he cleared his throat, “But sometimes you turn your signal light on too early, so be careful of that. And don’t stop too far from the stop line, that gives you demerit points.”

She nodded and took a mental note of everything he said, “What about with my parking?” Henry opened the door to check the distance of the car from the pavement, “You hill parking is good so far; not too close or too far. Think you can do parallel parking on that car on the next street?” Y/N eyes followed to where his finger pointed to a sedan that was parked, “Might need some help.”

Appreciating her honesty August reassured her, “Don’t worry I’ll guide you through it.” With his words she began to leave where she was parked and crossed the intersection. Once she was helped on the parallel parking process, her instructor beamed at her, “Good job, Y/N!”

“Thanks for your help, Henry,” The agent admittedly was caught off guard at the name she used— his dumb ass nearly corrected her and told him that wasn’t his name — he blamed it with how sweetly yet shyly she thanked him so that made him lose his concentration. “No worries,” He gruffly replied, which had Y/N found was odd with how his mood seemed to shift given his tone. 

“Why don’t we head back home but let’s go through the main road; know the speed limit over there?” She nodded her head as she answered, “60 kilometers per hour, but by Hammonds Avenue it reduces to 50.” Satisfied he rubbed his hands over his thighs, “Fantastic! Get on with it, love.”

Her breath hitched at the name he called her and she paused for a second before pulling away; August too had no idea where that came from but he just couldn’t help himself. The rest of the drive on the way home was filled with stiff and tortuous silence; the radio was not turned on since the agent deemed it would distract her from driving. “Do an uphill parking over here,” He pointed to her front porch. She nodded and poked her tongue out a bit as she concentrated on the task at hand. “Okay, now neutral, then all the way to the left.”

When she felt the tire hit the curb she smiled brightly and turned to Henry, “All done.” The proud expression on her face was so captivating that despite holding himself back he couldn’t prevent himself from mirroring her proud expression with a genuine smile, “You did well today, Y/N. Maybe next time you’ll be the one bringing your dad to work.”

August kept his fingers crossed that his jab would provide him with more information about it; and she partially did, “Not anytime soon though; he’s not due back for at least two weeks.” Despite being disappointed at the vague information he managed not to physically display it as he nodded, “Oh that’s too bad then,” He faked sympathy and unbuckled his seatbelt as she did the same, “Same time tomorrow for our lesson okay?” 

Nodding her head up and down, she grabbed her bag from the console and checked the road before exiting. “See you tomorrow, Henry,” She waved as they passed by each other as he walked over to the driver’s side. When their skins brushed, they both could feel a rush of electricity and it made Y/N nervously giggle and skipped away from him without even looking back at him due to how embarrassed she was. 

Whereas on the other hand August was confused; he never met someone who made him feel this way. The way she was looking or smiling at him had him weak in the knees; which was something he never experienced before. As she was swiftly entering her home, the Hammer found himself watching her as she did so; just need to make sure she gets home safely, he convinced himself. Though the rational part of himself argued back idiot, she’s already on her porch! What possible harm can come to her?

Once she got inside he finally got in the car and fished out his phone from the glove compartment to connect it to the radio and call Sloane as he began driving to his temporary apartment. After a few rings she picked up, “Walker? How was the first day?”

“Not too bad. Got some minimal information about Roberts,” He could hear faint footsteps on Sloane’s end of the call and inferred she had just gotten back from a meeting. “What have you found out then?”

“Apparently he’s out of town,” His boss’ disappointment with the information was heard through her long sigh, “Any idea when will he return? And to where he is?” He shook his head as he spoke, “Y/N said at least two weeks before he comes back from work out of town.” 

“Well that can’t be good,” No shit, August wanted to add but kept silent. “Is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons are done?” Glaring at his phone the agent voiced his disbelief at what he was hearing, “Why should I pursue this lead? Can’t there be any other way to get to Roberts? What about his associates?”

Sloane let out an irritated sigh — one she rarely had to let out when she was talking to her best agent because he usually got the job done — before explaining, “His associates change; they come and go. We never really found a certain person or persons he works with. Y/N is the only constant person in his life and so if anything really she’s our only hope of bringing him in.” The silence from August’s end indicated that she got through his head.

“Now, is there any way you can remain in contact with Y/N even after your week of driving lessons?” He was now parked in the car park of his temporary base and he thought for a few seconds on how to answer her question. Call it impulsivity or whatever, but before he could even clearly think things through he found himself suggesting, “Perhaps I can ask her out on a date?”

In the years they’ve worked together, Sloane was always impressed and surprised with how August managed to accomplish each mission he assigned her successfully. But this one in particular, he surprised her with his suggestion; heck even August himself couldn’t believe the words that just left his mouth. “I just think that’s the cleanest way to play this one out,” He tried to defend his suggestion, “What other reason would a driving instructor have to remain in contact with their student right?”

The Hammer was cursing himself out with how feeble his justification was; Sloane on the other hand did find herself agreeing with him, “Do what you must.”

The rest of the week went by quickly and Y/N found herself looking forward to every driving lesson she had with her gorgeous instructor. And now that it was the last hour of the last day of their driving lessons, she couldn’t help but wish she got more time to spend with him. In the back of her mind she thought about failing the test in hopes that he’d help her out again. But then it would backfire quick if they sent a different instructor instead.

“Parallel park one last time with that Dodge over there,” His instructions brought her back from the plan she was hatching and going through. As she was executing his instructions, she failed to notice how instead of looking at what she was doing, Henry was observing every facial expression she was completing the task at hand. “There! How was that?” Her eyes staring back at him snapped him out of his entranced stare as he blinked a few times, “Oh well,” He opened the car door to check if the tires hit the curb and how far they were from the curb, “Good job, as usual. Though be careful when you turn the wheel to the right.”

She nodded slowly as she repeated his comment, “How do you feel about your exam tomorrow?” At the mention of her dreaded test she groaned a bit and he chuckled softly — he never saw her this stressed about the test in their previous lessons, so seeing her react this way was somewhat amusing to him. She looked at him with her lips slightly pouting and the skin in her forehead all wrinkled up, “I’m nervous about it; but at the same time I feel like I can do it?”

Henry’s left hand settled itself on her forearm as he affectionately rubbed her, as if he were trying to rid her of the stress and anxieties, “You’re gonna do great, love. Just calm yourself down before taking the test and don’t be afraid to talk to yourself as you drive if it helps you focus.” Y/N’s heartbeat sped up with how gentle he was; over the course of their lessons he came across as stern and rigid but this side of him was something she could get used to.

“How ‘bout you drive back home now, yeah?” She nodded and did so without trouble. August remembered how her father was gone and wondered who’d bring her to the test, “By the way, since you mentioned you dad was out of town, who’ll go with you then?”

Timidly smiling to herself she admitted, “I’ve asked some of my friends, but they all said how they had their own plans. I was gonna ask some of my coworkers and see how that goes.” Clicking his tongue with how unprepared she was, his mouth spit out, “Well how about I go with you then?” Before his brain could even analyze if that was the right thing to say.

Seeing as Y/N was driving she could only briefly glance at him, “You want to take me to the test?” August now backed himself against a wall and couldn’t find a way out, to hell with it, he thought to himself. “Way better than you driving illegally is it not?”

“That is true,” Y/N acknowledged, “But do you do that for all of your students?” Henry let out a laugh and her heart fluttered with how deep it was before he remarked, “Not for everyone, sweetheart, I’ll tell you that.” Feeling cocky with that she mused, “Then I must be special then?”

If you only knew, love, August thought to himself; while Y/N was scolding at herself for possibly flirting with her driving instructor. But technically he wouldn’t be on the day of her exam because their lessons ended, right? “Wanna know how special you really are?” He leaned his elbow on the console, bringing himself closer to her and he sensed how she held her breath as her body stiffened. Shaking her head was the only response she could offer as she was now focusing on parking the car in front of her house. 

After coming to a halt she turned over to him and looked at him with curious eyes; Henry then took it as his cue to speak, “You’re so special that should you pass your exam tomorrow, I want to take you out on a date.” Her eyes widened comically that August thought she was an inspiration for a cartoon character. And the agent wasn’t sure if what he was saying was spoken out of desperation for the mission to succeed or because he had taken interest in her.

It had taken her a few seconds before replying and the agent was surprised when she said, “Are you shitting me or is this actually real?” He rid the smirk he had on his face and replaced it with a serious expression, “This is real, sweetheart. Do you think I go around and grace my students with nicknames?” He took her avoiding eyes as a no and his hand grabbed her chin to get her to face him directly, “So do we have a deal, sweetheart? I take you out right after your test for a date, if you pass?”

August held his breath as she unhooked his hand from her chin and leaned over him, planting a kiss on his cheek. His blue eyes were now wide as she had a toothy grin once she pulled away and with a smirk of her own said, “We have a deal, Henry.”

August found himself tapping his leg as he stared at the wall clock, hoping that his domineering stare would make time go faster. Thirty minutes had passed since Y/N started her driving exam and the agent found himself reevaluating in the meantime. Was asking her out on a date the only way to get close to Roberts?

Of course it was, he thought, She said her father will return in two weeks. You’d only have to go out with her once a week and somehow bring him into their conversation and hopefully milk out more intel about him.

Seeing a man dressed in a flannel-patterned polo reeled him back into the present; trailing behind the man was Y/N who had a blank expression on her face. Furrowing his eyebrows he mouthed, “What happened?” Anxiety coursed through his body but it quickly left his body as she winked at him and turned to follow the man. “Do you want to retain your picture from your permit or want to take another one?” He overheard the man ask Y/N, prompting August to relax and smile as he connected the dots — she passed her exam! 

But as he was mentally celebrating her success he found himself thinking about how he now had to take her out on the date he promised. It’s just for work, he deliberated, only going out with her to know more about her father. Nothing more, nothing less. However there was this thought nagging him on the back of his head that it wasn’t just for that reason he was taking her out.

Henry groaned as her lips sucked on the sweet spot on his neck as her nails were planted on his shoulders. His large hands alternated between squeezing and rubbing her ass as she grinded herself on his lap.

They found themselves in this situation after Y/N giddily squealed at August how she passed; the agent kissed her forehead as he told her how proud he was of her. As they went to their date he let her drive and as he settled on the passenger seat, his hand rested on her thigh, testing the waters to see if she was comfortable with it — and by the way her thighs pressed against each other, caging in his hand between them, he got the message that she welcomed it happily.

Even throughout the dinner, they both couldn’t get enough of each other. The skin of their arms remained so close to each other that it was as if they were glued to each other. Y/N was beginning to think that the only reason Henry ordered pasta was so he could eat with a single hand so his opposite hand can rest on her thigh. But she wasn’t complaining as she rested her thigh above his.

As they drove back to her place one thing led to another and it ended with Y/N climbing over the console and situating herself on Henry’s lap as their mouths captured each other’s. Y/N unbuttoned his shirt as her lips littered his chest with kisses, she’d linger sometimes in a certain spot long enough to leave marks. 

Rolling her hips in his lap, she felt his hard on pressing against her clothed crotch and moaned against his skin. When her dainty fingers were done unclasping the buttons that confined his toned and broad upper body, her hand travelled lower to palm his bulge and before she could open the zipper Henry caught her roaming hand with his, “I think doing this in your house is far better than some cramped up vehicle; don’t you think?”

A blissed out nod was all the response Y/N could give; with that affirmation August opened the door and carried the girl out and shut the car door with his foot. With her legs wrapped around his waist, she planted kisses all over her instructor’s face. She whined as she was put down but understood that it was her cue to unlock the door; though the man behind her was not making the task easy as he was nipping at the skin of her neck and his hands were rubbing her arms.

“Fucking finally,” August rasped out as Y/N managed to unlock the front door and they both hastily entered and the agent shut and locked the door behin him; he spun her to face him so he could rip off her shirt and he smirked as the girl whimpered, clearly turned on with what he did. “Such a naughty girl you are, aren’t you? Going out without even covering these nice tits.” Wrapping his mouth around a breast, she ran her fingers through his hair to encourage him with what he was doing. Without detaching his mouth from her tit and instead switching between the two, he took the initiative to lead them into her couch. 

Pushing her to lie on her back, August rid himself of his clothes; he was moving too quickly that Y/N didn’t have the time to take a good look at his chiseled body. Hovering above her, he smirked at her once he noticed her thighs were clenching, “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you?”

Pathetically nodding she grabbed at his shoulders, “Please touch me, Henry.” Snarking at her he tore her leggings and her panties had the same fate. Now that she was just as exposed as he was, August leaned down to lick downwards from her clit and to her pussy. “You taste heavenly, love.” He lapped at her more, needing to quench his thirst for her and curiosity of what she would taste like. “As much as I adore your taste I’m afraid this will have to wait,” Pushing away her legs that wrapped around his neck, he kissed his way up until he was face to face with her.

“Why not?” She whined as she clawed at his back, moaning as she felt the plain of his back muscles. He distracted her by kissing her deeply as his hand stroked his cock a few times before sliding it in her in one stroke. “That’s why,” He huskily answered against her lips; he moved so his knees touched her thighs, allowing him to rut into her properly.

August removed his lips from hers as he instead planted kisses on her neck as his hands toyed with her nipples and breasts; Y/N, on the other hand, was whining about how good he felt. The skin at the back of her thighs was rippling as he thrusted himself in and out of her rapidly and harshly; the top of his thighs hitting against the back of hers, “You feel so good, Henry. So thick and hard inside me.” The man smirked at her wails, loving how wrecked she sounded — in the back of his nasty brain he noted that this was his favorite version of her.

Her hands held onto his biceps, nails leaving harsh marks on his pale and sweaty skin; it turned August even more how her delicate hands couldn’t even wrap half the size of his arm. Her velvet and silk-like walls were squeezing into his cock so tight that it was triggering his orgasm already — the agent would usually last longer, but given how turned on he was coupled with the fact the past week edged him, he was already close to unloading his bottled up frustrations.

“You already got me almost cumming,” He hoarsely whispered in her ear, feeling her wrap her legs around him to pull her closer against him. That didn’t stop him from slamming into her pussy to the point his trimmed pubic hair rubbed against her clit, adding more friction and pleasure for the both of them. “Seems like you are too, love,” Both her nipples were then squeezed to tease her even more and August was just even more amused with how responsive her precious body was underneath him.

“Please Henry, make me cum. I wanna feel your cum all over me too,” She managed to gasp out in between breaths; the man above her growled when he heard how good she sounded as she begged and had no choice but to comply. He leaned down to suckle on her nipple as the other breast was being toyed by his hand. Her clit too received attention as it was being rubbed and pinched with his other hand. As his hips slammed against her thighs harshly and his cock railed her in swift and sharp thrusts, Y/N could only moan and roll her eyes at the simulations she was receiving.

The only warning she could provide him of her impending orgasm was her patting against his biceps as her walls unexpectedly clung to his dick tighter than ever and came around him. August didn’t relent and continued his animalistic pace, milking her orgasm and removing his mouth from her tit to stare at her blissed out and drowsy state provoked his orgasm as well.

“Fucking hell, love,” He groaned out as he slid in all the way inside her and didn’t thrust furthermore as he spilled his load inside her. With their foreheads touching against each other, they breathed against each other to calm themselves down. Y/N’s hands removed themselves from Henry’s biceps; instead she was now stroking his back, as if coaxing the large man above her to calm down. While August rested his hands on her sides, as if memorizing every inch of her skin.

Y/N squealed as she was being lifted up and carried into her bedroom. Contrary to how she was laid down on the couch roughly, her former driving instructor laid her down gently. Kissing her forehead he went to her ensuite bathroom and returned with a towel. Y/N looked at him with loving eyes as he wiped off their combined juices that spilled out of her delicious cunt. Throwing the towel on her hamper, he then laid beside her and August chuckled lightly with how quick the girl was to latch herself onto him for a cuddle — and he did open his arms to welcome her and wrapped them around her smaller figure.

“I hope you don’t do this with all your students?” Her comment had him humorously rolling his eyes and Y/N giggled at his antics. “No, I don’t, love. I promise,” He even held his pinky up for a pinky promise and she was more than eager to latch her pinky with his; bringing their tangled pinkies to his mouth, Henry placed a gentle kiss on them before untangling them so they could hold hands instead. “Well I guess I’m really special?”

Nodding, he lowered his head down a bit so he could kiss her deeply and passionately. Breaking their kiss August replied, “So special that I want to take you out again next week,” Without even disconnecting their lips.

Y/N sleepily mumbled, “I’d like that a lot, Henry.” Her eyes were starting to feel heavy and August kissed her forehead again, “Sleep, love. I’ll be here in the morning.” She nodded against him and did so. For the next few minutes, the CIA agent reflected his actions and decisions. He told Sloane that he’d ask Y/N out on a date only to remain in contact with her. That was it — a date.

But how the hell did he end up enjoying the date — let alone her company and herself — and then taking her to bed? This was a mess. He shouldn’t have slept with her for it would just complicate things. When August saw how she was steadily breathing, he moved out of the bed and rested her head on a pillow. He went out to her living room to look for his pants that he earlier discarded; grabbing for his phone he sent out a text to Sloane :

Secured a meetup with Y/N next week. Will try to fish out more information about Roberts.

He turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. As he was staring at his scattered clothes, he was debating whether he should stay the night with Y/N or just leave right now. Even though he knew which option seemed like the most logical, he surprised himself. He went back to bed and cuddled Y/N close as he too began to drift off to dormancy — he stayed.

[djmarinizelablog]

hi! read your last ask and you said that you took up creative writing classes so you might have a wider knowledge about this but i was wondering when u mentioned different writing styles (like minimalistic, hightened imagery, linear vilennete and all of that) could you maybe explain the difference and what they really mean and maybe examples in our own levihan nation and writers? this might be asking for too much but i was pretty lost and i'd like to know more about all that. however you are def free to ignore this too!

Did you just ask me to write a comprehensive poetics essay, Anon? (I love writing about writing lmao)

Super long post ahead, and I’ll be citing certain fanfics that I’ve read so far and those that I think somehow exemplifies all the different writing styles I mentioned in the previous post. 

First off, the ones I listed beforehand (minimalistic prose, heightened imagery, poetic language, linear narrative, non-linear vignettes) aren’t the only types of writing styles. There are more if you consider the variations of tone (humor/comedy, sentimental, macabre, noir etc), narration/perspective (first person, second person, third person omniscient/limited), and language (dialogue-heavy or action/scene-driven). And the nice thing is that you can actually use of one or two of them in your work---or all of them, if you’re feeling bold. 

As Hange always loves to do: “Let’s experiment!”

--------

I’ll start with minimalistic prose. It is what it is: short, clear, and concise. Think less is more. You have an economy with words where you disregard most adverbs and focus more on the context to make way for meaning, thus allowing the readers to create their own interpretations of your writing. I think the method here is to write your intended draft first, and then cut the unnecessary words to flesh out the scene even more.

Notice how @stereobone wrote this paragraph of Black Dog (an Eruri fic):

Isabel's voice wakes him, brother, brother, has him sitting upright in bed and grabbing for the knife under his mattress. He braces himself for the attack before he realizes there isn't one. There is nothing in the darkness but him and his heavy, panicked breathing. Levi's heart feels like it's trying to beat its way out of his chest. He drops the knife on the mattress and shuts his eyes and tries not to think about Farlan's bloody resigned face before he was eaten. He tries not to think about how he left them. How it's his fault.

It’s very simplistic in language; the paragraph lets you focus on Levi’s innermost thoughts while he deals with an external action (ie, having nightmares). The author hasn’t unraveled the rest of the plot yet, but you already know where the tension is coming from.

Next is heightened imagery. If you’re familiar with the different figures of speech (metaphor, simile, personification, hyperbole, etc), then this is where they all come into play. I think the challenge here is being able to balance it well with the text itself and make sure that the imagery actually clarifies the context of the paragraph instead of convoluting the intended meaning. 

Here’s an excerpt from A Dangerous Game by just_quintessentially_me:

Hanji watched Levi, standing there, head bent and bloodied handkerchief pressed against his arm, and was reminded, irrationally, of a night years ago. When her parents had taken her to the circus. [. . . .] Holding her parent’s hands, she’d gaped, head craned back as she watched the spectacle, a cacophonous mixture of sound and color. At the center of it all, she’d spied a boy. Among the twisting colors and tricks, he alone, was still. [. . . .] The boy was high above, balancing on a platform atop a long pole. In front of him, stretched an audaciously thin rope. Below, no net waited to catch him.

[. . . .]

When Levi looked up, his expression was set - like the boy before the tightrope. And she knew, with sinking certainty, he was going to take the step. Into thin air.

Gray eyes met her gaze and held it.

“Yeah. I’ll go.”

At the door, Kenny smiled.

See how the powerful imagery of the boy on the tightrope was able to fuel the tension in that moment among Levi, Hange, and Kenny? 

I think poetic language is akin to heightened imagery, except that the former is more focused on the actual language. It’s very lyrical, wherein you can actually hear the lulling song of the sentences in a rhythm. One of my favorite works that does this is Deep sea baby by @smallblip. Here she makes use of various setting and scenery to create this entire atmosphere of Levi and Hange’s relationship:

Hanji knows whatever life they've led, this is her favourite.

The one in which her and Levi see the sea for the first time together.

The one in which she’s the Commander, and him, her Captain. And between them, a river of words left unsaid threatening to break the banks.

One day they must cross the ocean, but today they visit the shores again, without the kids this time. And Levi learns why when he watches her peel at her clothes. Her harness comes off first, then her blouse, then everything else, like a little dance for an audience of one. Levi tries not to stare, but he’s already seen her by candlelight in the dead of the night. And yet she never fails to take his breath away.

She makes her way to where the white foams dredge the past up the shores of the present.

"Come on Levi! The water is warm!" she says, and he hears it like a call to come home- where the heavens collide with the sea.

He takes off his clothes and folds them in a neat pile beside Hanji's mess. He swims out to join her.

It’s hauntingly poetic, the way the author is able to connect the metaphor in “a river of words” to the actual body of water right in front of Levi and Hange. Good poetic language is able to tighten up the texts together while keeping the sentence structure flowing with apt figures of speech.

When it comes to narratives, it only comes down to linear or non-linear. See how @lostcauses-noregrets does her opening statement in Trains (also an Eruri fic):

Levi hates trains. To be fair, Levi hates all forms of public transport, but he reserves a particular loathing for trains. They’re dirty, noisy, smelly and worse, filled with people. People who, heaven forbid, might attempt to speak to Levi, engage him in conversation. Levi’s worst nightmare is being stuck on a train with some friendly fuck who wants to pass the time making small talk. Admittedly it’s not a problem he has to deal with too often, his general fuck off demeanour deters all but the most aggressively friendly and hopelessly inebriated. But that doesn’t stop Levi from hating trains.

It’s a short fic and it’s very dependent on the linearity of events happening. But with that banger of a first sentence, the beginning already gives you enough of an idea of Levi’s pet peeve in the story, which in this case, is trains.

Here’s another hot and steamy fic called keep him waiting by keobuns that shows a linear narrative: 

He’s sitting with them in the back of the lab, nursing a cup of tea — it’s still pretty full, and even cold now, for he was far too distracted listening to Hanji talk to properly drink — when he sees it. Hanji’s too preoccupied with overexplaining the same Titan experiment they’ve gone over a hundred times to notice his stare. They just continue on and on and on, gesturing with their hands, pointing with their fingers, flexing their wrists…

Ah. Levi has to bring his teacup to his lips to hide the way his lips tremble. Hanji has incredibly nice hands.

The entire story just revolves around Levi simping for Hange’s hands and how it all goes down from there. But you as a reader are kept wanting more with every paragraph and every sentence that the author constructs (and trust me, it’s not just the sexual tension between Levi and Hange that keeps us going).

Now, as much as I love the straightforwardness of linear prose, non-linear writing brings a different round of ideas onto the table. It can create recollections from flashbacks, heighten the perspective or interior turmoil of a character due to trauma or grief, or even just re-invent what-if scenes that the characters have imagined themselves. 

Gnossiene by @thatalmondgirl​ is one of my all-time favorite Rivetra fics. In this excerpt, you will see how she switches between the past and the present, and how it affects Petra’s POV as a conflicted character:

Contrary to popular belief (fuck Auruo) Petra actually didn’t cry easily.

Alright, she could admit that at some times, she was...emotional. It was far from a weakness, but even she could admit that they sometimes got in the way and walled off all rational thought. Anger, frustration, sadness, hell, even happiness. The only one she could easily compartmentalise away was fear, which probably stemmed from her military career. Even so. It was never easy to separate all the others from her actions, think from a clean slate like the Commander could do, like the captain. [. . . ] Petra groaned, splayed out across her bed. She drew her arm across her eyes, willing the tears to go away. She’d already blown through her tissue box.

“Petra, a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” Mama sat on the end of her bed, with Petra on the floor between her legs. Even though Petra argued firmly that she was old enough to brush her own hair, Mama had insisted. Unfortunately, Petra wasn’t old enough - and probably never would be - to disagree with her mother.

“I know, Mama.” Petra grumbled.

“I don’t think you do. Else you wouldn’t be crying, would you?”

[. . . .]

“But a man shouldn’t complete you when you complete yourself. Maybe he’s an extension to your house. So you’ll be sad if the extension is compromised or burns down. But you still have the main house. And if it’s strong, the main house can still be standing even after the worst storm.”

Aside from Mama’s crazy metaphors that sometimes didn’t make sense, her message hit home. Even if it hit home years later.

See how it switched in between the before and after? 

An off-shoot of non-linear writing are vignettes (a layering of scenes separated by section breaks) wherein this writing style allows writers to curate scenes in terms of fragments, creating some kind of mosaic for the readers once they finally see the big picture. Nakimochiku’s I’m leaving, are you coming with me? stacks up scenes of interactions between Levi and Hange, enough to depict the kind of relationship that they have as young lovers in a school setting. You can string these fragments together, rearrange them in a different order, but in the end, you will still get the author's clear goal of highlighting how Levi and Hange’s relationship develops over time.

Those are the styles that I mentioned in my previous posts, but as I’ve told you, there’s more to writing than those, so I’ll give a short run-through of other methods in writing. 

Whether it’s dialogue-heavy works such as from my window to yours, or action-driven scenes like Carnivores (a Levi x Reader fic by CaptainDegenerate) that propel the story forward, we as readers should be able to follow through the actual storyline that the authors intend to take us. 

A third-person limited (we listen to Hange’s thoughts in Clockwork by @tundrainafrica) vis-à-vis an all-knowing/omniscient narration (the moon is dark by @sayonarasanity alternates the perspective of Levi and Hange) should be able to make us understand why the author chose this particular kind of point-of-view in order to tell the story. 

And lastly, having a solid and consistent tone throughout the work (the macabre of Even Humanity’s Strongest could make mistakes by Rimeko versus the sweet sentimentality of Flowers for You by @fanmoose12) should be able to set the atmosphere that the authors want us to imbibe as we read through their works. 

So there’s your crash course on writing and reading. Enjoy? :) 

[guigz1-coldwar]

'An woman with an strange name' : an COD fic....in the Far West !

1899

In the American Far West, the city of Redemption in Arizona is ruled by the tyrannic Russell Adler, an former US Army soldier, helped by his lieutenant from his brutal gang : Jason Hudson.

Him & his lieutenant are making the law in town, causing the former sheriff to be only an shadow of himself, forced only to stay at his office, watching Adler's gang doing their business in town with no deputies to help him. Everyone in town is obliged to live under the fear of the man nicknamed 'The American Monster'.

Then, one day, a lone woman arrive in town....

Here is an fic with the Safehouse crew....transported in an Western setting !

To read it on AO3, click here !

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1899

Violence....if there were only word available to actually describe the city of Redemption in Arizona, it would be this particular word that will be chosen to be honest. Once an peaceful town where harmony & law were the master words of the place, it quickly became an town overruned by the desesperados before an actual outlaw group took the keys of the city to make this place their own. This group was lead by an former US Army soldier named Russell Adler and they weren't joking when they got plans to install themselves in Redemption.

Initially trying to resist against the gang at the beginning, the citizens realized that the fight was lost in advance when Adler's outlaws were in fact more armed and well-trained than anyone in town. Those guys were members of Adler's old unit in the army for those who were at the top while the others were mercenaries or little despesrados wanting to make some money by entering the posse. Against that type of group, the city caved in, allowing Adler & his men to become the masters of Redemption, it was their town now.

Adler, who was nicknamed the 'American Monster' by his men and now the people in town, became the 'mayor' of the city, having hanged in public the official one to show that now, he was the man in charge of the place. The sheriff, Eleazar Azoulay, also called 'Lazar' by the few friends he still got alive, was forced to watch the town he swore to protect fall into an outlaw gang hands, his former deputies killed along with the mayor and now, he was all alone, wondering why the gang want to keep him as the sherrif despite the whole situation.

Each day, he was sitting at the porch of his building, the sheriff's office, looking around as they were no one to look inside the empty cells since he didn't really arrest anyone for an long time, why he would do that ? If he did so, he knows that minutes later, Adler will surely come in with his men, asking for the poor guy release and he know that he wasn't going to refuse. Azoulay was just alone...friends died because of the gang's brutality but he wasn't able to do an thing, no one in town was interested on taking back an useless fight.

It was hopeless, this town, he wouldn't want to leave it like that. As he was in his thoughts, trying to think positively in these hard times, he could hear an big noise coming from the saloon and when he looked to see at it, he was seeing an man having just been through an window but instead of going help, he had to stay & watch, discovering the maon lieutenant of Adler coming out of the saloon : Jason Hudson himself.

"I didn't do it, I swear !" The man who flied through the window was starting to crawl in the middle of the main road as everyone was witnessing the scene and Hudson was slowly walking to catch him.

"Don't bullshit me, buddy !" Hudson started, putting his hands on the man on the ground, making him look at him clearly. "I saw you right putting your eyes on her, you know the rules." Hudson told him, his hands grabbing the man by the collar.

"I didn't do it, I just turned around to talk to my friend." The man repeated, trying to defend his actions but the only thing he received was an punch from Hudson with his right fist, opening the man left eyebrow in one punch....Hudson weren't joking here, someone broke the rules...

"You could have look the other way." Hudson said, removing his hands off the man before throwing it back on the ground and putting his black boots against the man chest to not make him move. "We do not look at Adler's property !" Hudson reminded him of an primordial rule as he looked around to see everyone. "No one....put theirs eyes on miss Park...she's Adler property !" He warned everyone, taking out his Colt M1898 from his holstler.

"I didn't know about it, mister Hudson." The man pleaded, seeing an revolver aimed at his head.

"Seriously ?" Hudson raised an eyebrow to him, that rule was know by everyone here. "You've been here for months and you only know that now ?" He asked rhetorically as he approach his Colt right between the man terrified eyes.

"It's not my fault." The man exclaimed loudly as the click of Hudson's revolver was heard all around the scene.

"Because you think it's mine ?" Hudson wanted to laugh right now, persuaded that the man was accusing him on making an mistake but he was just following the rules...Adler's rules...."You are really saying that I'm the one who broke the rules ?" He questioned the man in an dark serious tone, the citizens doing nothing to help the man on the ground, the sheriff watching hopeless on his chair...

"Hudson !" An loud voice arrived near the scene and when Hudson turned around to look at who it was, he was seeing Russell Adler himself in his usual black clothes, like an gunslinger who was in fact watching the whole scene from afar. His hands was holding his belt with an mysterious look.

"Sir." Hudson nodded at him, still holding the poor man on the ground at gunpoint.

"Get him up !" Adler ordered, slowly moving towards Hudson as him & two others guys from the gang put their hands on the man to put him back on his feets. "So, tell me, Hudson, what did this man has done to be like that ?" He asked his lieutenant, taking out an cigarette from one of his pocket to light it up, still having his serious & mysterious look in his eyes.

"He broke two rules, Russ." Hudson started, having his left hand on the man shoulder. "First, he put his eyes on miss Park." He told him, knowing that looking at Adler's property was not something to do in this town, people almost die because of it....

"I swear, mister Adler, I didn't...."

"Don't swear to me !" Adler cut him right in his words, taking an authoritarian voice against the man. "Continue, Hudson." He demanded to his lieutenant.

"And second, he didn't pay in time." Hudson added and by hearing that, the detained man's eyes went wide, looking shocked.

"What ? No !" The man protested, looking at Adler himself in the eyes. "Mister Adler, I did pay the 200 dollars I owe you !" He continued but Adler shook his head.

"You owed me 300 bucks now." Adler snorted, with his cigarette between his lips, blowing some smoke away. "You were late at last month payment and an extra 100 dollars were asked from you, you broke two rules today, pal !" He expressed, putting his hands around the man's neck to threaten him but nothing else. "Working at the gold mine isn't taking too much." He sniffed in desesperation to see the man in front of him.

"What do we do, boss ?" One of the thugs that was holding the man right arm asked.

"Release him for the moment, he knows what happened when an third rule is broken in my town." Adler ordered in an clear voice, he wanted to make an example here, to remind everyone of his authority but he was standing by the rules. By the second he finished his phrase that his mens removed their hands from the man. "Hudson, you can go back to the house, you two are keeping an eye in the saloon." He gave to his men the usual orders and the three nodded, going into differents directions as the man was still standing here, facing Adler.

"You & your scars." The man whispered, thinking that he wasn't heard by Adler but it was too late to run when Adler stopped himself to look at him like death coming to greet him.

"What did you say ?" Adler demanded, an dark tone in his voice, his left hand passing through the scars on his face.

"I didn't say anything." The man defended himself, putting his hands in front of him but Adler wasn't removing his dark side on his face, his right hand slowly moving to get to his own holstler, holding an Colt M1898.

"You just broke an third rule !" Adler exclaimed loudly as his hand was on his revolver grip and in one second, he was able to take his revolver in hand as the other man was trying to make the same thing but it wasn't hopeless.

Adler is an gunslinger, the man wasn't one. Adler moved his left hand towards his revolver above its hammer and then, he start to fire all the bullets that was in his revolver, all hitting the man in the chest in an rapid succession, in more than 4 seconds and the last bullet went through the poor man head before he could hit the ground. As he was finished, he blow the smoke that was going out of the revolver cannon, still having his cigarette between his lips before pulling his revolver back in its hostler and looking at everyone around, watching the scene.

"I'm the boss here, you all understand !" He clarified to everyone as he was finally able to make an example today, like he's doing every week since he took power in this town. "This is what happened when you don't respect me or my mens, so get lost !" He ordered and in just two seconds, the citizens quickly moved out their eyes away from the scene, going back home or moving far away. "That's good !" He thought to himself in an low voice as his eyes were now watching the sheriff himself....an little talk was maybe necessary. "Sheriff !" He started, walking away from the dead man body as no one was willing to take it away, to join the sheriff.

"What do you want, Adler ?" Azoulay demanded directly to the 'mayor' in an lazy tone.

"I hope that this action reminded everyone of who is the leader here." Adler smirked at him, knowing that the sheriff was inoffensive right now, he wasn't wearing an gun, maybe still inside his desk and all rusty.

"I know that, you've been doing this for months, now." Azoulay looked away from Adler but not in shame, he wouldn't want to see the guy's eyes. "You still want to show me that you're the boss here, that you're the law but I will not move out of here."

"Lazar..." Adler shook his head with an smile forming on his lips.

"Don't call me Lazar !" Azoulay cut him straight, his eyes back on him even if it was dangerous to talk to Adler like that. "You want me to put myself out of this misery, you will wait an long time then." He then got up from his seat, not wanting to talk to Adler anymore. "Leave now, I want to be alone." He ordered in an low voice as he start to get back inside his office.

"Good for you, sheriff !" Adler scoffed before going away from the office, making an little laugh about the sheriff situation.

When Azoulay entered back into his building, his eyes looking around the empty main room with two desks no more used, he was feeling to be really alone in his town. He slowly walk to get sit on his chair, looking at the bounty table that was never so empty in an long time. He knew that the outlaws want him out, that he will kill himself out of guilt for not saving the city but Azoulay was more strong than that. He's maybe an hopeless sheriff with no deputies to count about but he is THE sheriff !

------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, an young-looking redhead woman was arriving in the main road of the town, sit on her white horse and wearing an long dusty coat, dressed like an man would do in these days. When her eyes went to look at the sign that was presenting the western town of Redemption, she didn't even flinch from turning her back around at all even if she knew the city's reputation now. The only thing that she did was to make an deep breath before she decided to move with her horse to get into the town.

Must say that her arrival in town got some of the people attention on her, discovering an woman dressed like an man, arriving in town on her white horse. For some, they were wondering who was this mysterious stranger coming in town and why she wanted to pass through Redemption. Starngers that were coming in town only lasted an day before fleeing away from the place and everyone was thinking that she will be just like every other stranger but to say, she was still looking intimidating to the others eyes.

She was slowly walking on her horse, getting herself deeper inside the town until her eyes fell on the sheriff's office that was just in front of the saloon. By seeing it, she changed direction to stop at the office, descending from her horse and attaching it while people were still looking at her but that wasn't disturbing her, she was an stranger after all, she was used to that in every town she's been through. Then, without any hesitations, she start to move inside the sheriff office, discovering his owner at his desk.

"Excuse me, sheriff ?" She started to say, catching the sheriff attention out of his own thoughts

"Yes ?" He moved his head around to look at the woman that was standing next to the door of his building, taking an look at her. "What do you want, miss ?" He asked her directly.

"It's my tradition at each town to salute the sheriff that an stranger is in town." She replied, crossing her arms as she leaned herself against the wall next to the door.

"Because you're an stranger ?" He raised an eyebrow to her, surprised to hear that from her. "Well, I advice you to get back on your horse and move away." He adviced her in an clear voice as he think that she was going to be another one of Adler's numerous victims. "That town isn't going to be pleasant for someone like you."

"As you want to think, sheriff but I'm not an coward running away like that." She stated in an serious tone, watching the man with concerned eyes as he got up from his seat to lean against his desk. "I've been travelling from 2 days straight from the East and some rest are needed." She explained to him, giving to him more details.

"So, you're an traveller ?" He whispered, crossing his arms too. "And it's very uncommon to see an woman dressed like that." He claimed, seeing her clothes on her

"I know, an lot of people told me that." She rolled her eyes around, her voice half-annoyed to have received the same thing all over again each time she's got into an new town. "Where are your deputies, sheriff ?" She demanded, looking at the other empty desk.

"Dead, I'm alone and even with this star...." He started, pointing at the yellow star ensign on his vest for her. "I'm not the one making the law here."

"Because you're not the law here ?" She repeated, sounding half-stunned in the inside.

"No, you maybe have heard of the 'American Monster' around here ?" He questioned her, thinking that chills would flow inside her body but he realized that she wasn't even scared or even flinch from hear that name from him. "Him & his gang are controlling the town here and they are awaiting for me to....retire."

"I think that they can wait an long time." She exclaimed with an little grin on her face, the sheriff realizing that he wasn't the only one in town to think like him.

"Seems that we're thinking the same thing, lady." He smiled for the first time in an long time before somethign went through his mind. "What's your name by the way ?" He asked her.

"I'm Bell !" She responded and he raised an eyebrow to her.

"That's not an name, miss." He claimed, moving away from his desk to look at her with curiosity.

"My name was stolen, Bell is the only thing I got left." She stated, her voice sounding an bit sad at the beginning before she could keep an straight face from saying that. "It's an hard story but I'm Bell, end of the story." She continued, very sure in her words, wanting to make things clear to the sheriff.

"I'm...Eleazar Azoulay, if you want to know." He decided to present himself to the woman with an strange name as he was thinking about that name. "You mind want to have me make you an little tour of the town, maybe ?" He proposed to her as she was an stranger here.

"That's sounds good for me, sheriff." She nodded at him with an grin as Azoulay was putting his hat back on top of his head and adjusting his vest before he looked back at her with also an little grin on his face.....

"Welcome to town then, miss Bell !"

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

New Fic!

What May Said- happyaspie

Summary: When May goes out of town for a week to attend her best friend's wedding she allows Peter to remain in New York under Tony's care... but not before giving the man a list of rules to follow. Peter ends up being less than thrilled by how his time at the tower starts but with time, comes understanding. ...for both Tony and Peter.

-or- Nearly 5,000 words of Tony being an annoying helicopter dad.

Warnings: None  Rated: G Word Count: 4846

Tags: Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker’s Parental Figure, Tony Stark is Trying his Best, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro...  ...

It took less than forty-eight hours for Peter to begin regretting his agreement to stay with Tony while his aunt was off somewhere in Florida attending her best friend's wedding.  Of course, he'd been given the option to come along as her plus one and spend a week at the beach but he'd declined in favor of his vigilantism.   He couldn't be Queen's friendly neighborhood Spider-man if he as laying around on the beach for six days.  However, bringing up his heroism as the main cause of his reluctance to join, may not have been the best idea.  

"You know, as much as I love and respect your choice to go out and gallivant all over the city helping people, I'm not sure I want you doing that without me here," May had said when he'd first brought it up.

"I'd been doing it for months before you ever even found out about it and I was fine," Peter had replied without thought.  Once again, realizing too late that maybe that hadn't been the right thing to say.

May marginally agreed with a nod of her head but clearly wasn't anywhere near convinces. "That may be so," she said, -"but now I know and I can't help but worry about you.  What if something happens to you while I'm gone?  -and who's going to make sure you do your homework before you go out and enforce your curfew?" he asked with mild concern.

"I'll be fine May.  It's six days and only three of them are actual school days.  I have Monday off," Peter had tried to reason but it was of no use.  He could see the wheels in his aunt's head-turning and knew that if he wanted to be able to stay home, he needed to think fast.  "If it'll make you feel better, I could stay with Ned," he said with a wave of his hand, hoping that offering to sleepover at his best friend's house would be a good compromise but clearly it wasn't.

With a knowing smile, May had crossed her arms over he chest and shook her head. "No way.  If you're going to stay here, I want you and your alter-ego to be under some sort of supervision, and Ms. Leeds had no idea that you're Spider-man."  

Peter resisted the urge to roll his eyes and suggested the only other solution he could come up with. "What if I stay with Mr. Stark?  I stay there all the time on the weekends.  I'm sure he won't mind.  It might even be fun," he'd proposed even though he wasn't actually sure if Tony would mind or not.  He didn't actually have any idea how his mentor typically spent his time during the week, though he assumed much of it was dedicated to working in his lab or going to meetings.

After some thought, it had been decided that staying at the tower would be sufficient and Tony had eagerly agreed.   When May had said that she needed to talk to him in order to 'lay down some ground rules' Peter had been somewhat annoyed but not really worried about it.  Seeing as he would be expected to be in school while she was gone, he'd gone ahead and assumed that she wanted to talk to him about homework and what time school started and whatnot.  Things that, technically, he could handle all by himself but he'd not wanted to argue and end up being forced to accompany her to the wedding.

As the date grew closer, Peter started to become more and more excited about the idea of living with Tony Stark for a week.  If the weekends were any indication then it was going to mean, a lot of take-out, goofing off around the penthouse and late nights in the lab.  He knew he would still have to go to school and he was definitely planned to patrol regularly but he was looking forward to the change of pace that would be in between.  He was sure it was going to be the best week of his life.

__________

It felt like an eternity but eventually, the day came.  Peter hugged his aunt on his way out the door and endured what felt like the longest school day in the history of school days, waiting for the last bell to ring.  Even then, he couldn't get to the tower fast enough.  Public transportation seemed to be taking forever and he wholly regretted not taking Tony up on the offer to have Happy pick him up.   However, the moment the bus finally paused at his stop, he went straight up to Tony's private floor, where he was met by the man himself.  Though, he was looking decidedly dismayed.  

"Is that blood?" Tony asked, never taking his off of where Peter's fingers were just peeking out of his sweater's overly long sleeves.  "What happened?"

"Huh?" Peter replied as he followed Tony's gaze towards his right hand and held it up to inspect it.  The man wasn't wrong.  There was a small amount of blood dried around the tip of his ring finger.  He didn' think it was that big of a deal.  Especially since it took him several seconds to put together why his finger had been bleeding at all. "-Oh.  My nail kept snagging on my sweater so I tried to bite it and it kind of ripped.  I'm okay," he explained with a shrug of his shoulders but his mentor looked far from placated.

With a deep sigh, Tony took two long strides towards where Peter was still examining his hand.  "You know," he said as he tried to get a better look at the damage himself.  "May said for me to make sure that you don't get hurt while you're here.  -and what do you do?  You walk in, first thing, with blood on your fingers.  Did you wash it?" he asked, more as a prompt than an inquiry.  Obviously the kid hadn't washed it.  

"Um..." Peter replied with a glint of a smile crossing his face.  He wasn't really sure what to make of the dramatics.  

Ignoring the mirthful look he was receiving, Tony took the boy by the shoulder and guided him towards the kitchen sink.  "Come on, kid.  Let's go get that cleaned up."

Peter followed along, all the way up until the man started pulling the first aid kit out from under the sink.  Then he just laughed.  "You know, it's probably already healed, right? I just need to wash my hands," he stated but when Tony glared at him, he relented. "Alright, geez.  Whatever," he said, holding his hand out so that his mentor could pour peroxide over the practically non-existent injury.

Once he had been released from the kitchen with a bandaid wrapped around the tip of his finger, Peter carried his backpack into his room.  As he piled what little bit of homework he had onto his desk he involuntarily shook his head.  He wondered what exactly May had said to make Tony react as he had over something so mundane. He was pretty sure that when May had told the man not to let him get hurt, that him picking at his nails had been the least of her concerns.

The work that he'd been assigned took no time at all and Peter was soon wandering back into the living area, already suited up, ready to grab a snack before taking off.  That was the routine that he and May had long since established and he assumed that Tony had been filled in on that.   That is until the man he spotted the man staring at him from across the room with a confused look across his face.  

"Are you going out already?" Tony asked as his eyes flicked between Peter and the large clock on the wall.  The kid had been there for less than an hour and he wasn't one hundred percent convinced that enough time had passed for any kind of homework to have been completed.  Not that he had any idea how long it should take but considering that the boy went to an advanced math and science school, he assumed it would take a while.

"Uh... Yes?" Peter replied, while hurriedly scarfing down a granola bar and a couple of cheese sticks.  He couldn't quite sort out where that question was coming from.  

"You did all of your homework already?" Tony asked dubiously.  

Peter nodded his head, wiped the crumbs off of his hands over the sink, and downed a glass of water before answering.  "All of it except studying for Spanish but I can do that when I get back," he said as he checked his web-fluid cartridges and started towards the door that led to the balcony he often leaped from.  However, before he could cross the room, his mentor stepped between him and the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Nuh-uh.  Go back to your room and study," Tony said, gesturing wildly towards the hallway behind the kitchen.  "May said I'm supposed to double-check that all of your homework is done before allowing you to go out and it's not, so, go."

For a second, Peter cocked his head to the side in bemusement.  He'd not meant to imply that he'd skipped out on some kind of big assignment.  He just needed to go over a few things for an upcoming test.  "It's just some flashcards, Mr. Stark," he clarified, "I can look at them before I go to bed."

"Nope," Tony said with full authority before nudging the teenager away from the door.  "In fact, why don't you go get them?  I'll sit down and go over them with you," he added because that seemed like the best way to guarantee that the kid actually got it done.  

With a roll of his eyes, Peter tried to duck out of the hand that was still persistently prodding at his shoulder.  "I don't need you to-" he began before deciding that it would be easier to just give in to the situation.  It wasn't like there was much to study.  Arguing would take up more time than the flashcards would.  "- Alright.  I'll go get them."

The second Peter out of the building he sighed in relief.  Tony had been acting weird since he'd arrived and for the first time ever, he was happy to be outside of his presence for a while.  Though given the way afternoon had gone, he half expected the man to call and check up on him at least once while he was but that never happened.  He was even more surprised when he climbed back into the penthouse that evening, that the man wasn't sitting there waiting for him.

Assuming that FRIDAY had already told Tony that he was home and without injury, Peter went over to the fridge and warmed up some leftovers.  The sandwich he'd bought earlier hadn't stuck with him and he was practically starving.  He took his time finishing his plate, cleaned up after himself, and then went to take a shower and change into his pajamas before flopping onto his bed.  He'd just finished texting Ned and was just getting into the book that MJ had loaned him when Tony came into the room without so much as a knock.

"Why are you up?  It's past eleven and you have school tomorrow," Tony asked from where he'd paused in the doorway.  

"Ten-forty-five is my curfew, not my bedtime, Mr. Stark," Peter gently teased before trying to bring his attention back to his book.  

"I'm pretty sure the whole point of the curfew is to keep you from staying up all night.  May said that you're supposed to get a minimum of eight hours of sleep.  That means you should be asleep by eleven-thirty," Tony said, already crossing the room with the intention of prying reading material out of the kid's hands.  He'd just managed to get his fingers on it when the teenager jerked it out of his reach.

"-Mr. Stark!" Peter squawked, still keeping a tight grip in the book.   "I'm reading.  It's not like I'm playing video games and chugging energy drinks," he complained but his words didn't seem to affect his mentor at all.  The man, while no longer trying to get the book out of his sticky hands, was still looking at him with his brows knit together.

Not looking to start a fight but also not wanting to give in so easily, Peter tossed the book onto the bedside table with more force than necessary.  "Fine.  I'm going to bed," he said and then poignantly rolled over so that his back was to the door.  Yet even with all of his irritation, he couldn't stop himself from tacking on a quiet, "Good-night, Mr. Stark," once the man had turned off his lamp for him.

"Good-night, Buddy," Tony softly returned, patting the disgruntles kid gently on the back as he clicked the door closed

Peter went right to sleep and by morning, the previous day's irritation had already been forgotten.  He rolled out of bed, went to the kitchen to have some juice, and then popped back into his room to get ready for the day.  He realized as he was throwing his clothes on that he still didn't really know what Tony did while he was at school but he assumed that whatever it was didn't require him to be up at seven-thirty in the morning.  As such, when he heard his name being called as he ran towards the elevator, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Hey, Pete!  Where the fire?" Tony chuckled from the kitchen.  When his early alarm had done off, he'd considered not getting up to see the kid off but now he was glad he had.  Apparently the boy was planning on bolting out the door without eating any breakfast and he wasn't about to let that happen.  "Get back over here and eat something"

"I had some juice when I got up, Mr. Stark, and I'm going to buy some doughnuts on the way to school," Peter said with a smile.  He appreciated that his mentor wanted to make sure that he was eating but he already had that covered.  The plan was to grab something from the corner store so there would be time to meet up with Ned before class.  They had a lot to talk about.

"Doughnuts aren't exactly a healthy breakfast, kiddo," Tony said with a smile.  He knew it was a little hypocritical considering he only planned on having a few cups of coffee to start the day but the kid didn't need to know that.  "I bought some yogurt and there's a whole bowl of fruit here on the counter.  How about some of that instead?"

"You made me chocolate chip waffles for breakfast just last Saturday," Peter blandly returned, though he was quick to note that his mentor looked completely unimpressed by his assessment.

"Yeah, but this is a school day and May said that I needed to make sure you were eating things with actual nutritional value while you were here," Tony returned without missing a beat.  

"Well, the good news is that I have an enhanced metabolism.  I make sure to double up on the veggies at lunch," Peter replied before turning his back to leave.  "Bye, Mr.-" he began but was interrupted when banana hit him right smack in the back of his head.  "Hey!  What was that for?" he called out over his shoulder with a glare.

Rather than answering the question, Tony pointed towards the fruit that was still laying on the floor at the kid's feet and gritted his teeth.  "Eat the banana and then you can go," he hissed.  All he wanted the kid to do was to eat something of substance before he left and the boy was being difficult. It was annoying and he suddenly wondered if that was what Rhodey felt like every time he had to drag him away from his books, to the campus cafeteria while they were at MIT.  He made a mental note to, sort of, apologize for that at some point.  Then his thoughts were interrupted by the kid shouting at him.

"You can just throw food at me and think that-" Peter started to growl, still rubbing the back of his head where the fruit had struck him.  It hadn't hurt so much as he was trying to make a point.  Although that point was tossed to the side the moment Tony picked up an apple and it looked like he was about to throw that at him too.  "-Okay, okay.  I get it.  I'll eat the stupid banana. Are you happy now?" he asked, as he aggressively tugged at the peel and took a bite.

"Yes.  Very," Tony said with an approving nod of his head.  Then he smiled sweetly and told the kid to have a good day before disappearing down the hall with a mug of coffee in his hands.  

After that, going to school almost seemed like a blessing.  He still managed to get there early and sat on the steps sharing his hurriedly purchased doughnuts with his best friend while he ranted about the previous twenty-four hours.  "It's crazy!  He's crazy.  I'm telling you, Ned, he worse than May.  It's weird," he grumbled while Ned smiled back at him.  "-and It's not funny."

"It kind of is," Ned replied as he pulled the last sugary pastry out of the bag and broke it in two.  "He's acting like your dad and, I'm sorry, but that's hilarious," he elaborated with a grin, offering his friend, the slightly larger half.  

While Ned was willing to laugh it all off, Peter wasn't.  He'd been expecting to have an easy-going care-free week, out from under May's watchful eye. Tony taking over her role with such vigor had been unexpected but he tried to stay optimistic, hoping that by the time he got back to the tower, the man would be back to his usual laid-back, if not slightly sarcastic self.    

Except it would not work out that way.  He left school in a generally good mood, followed Ned home so that they could exchange some quick notes and then caught the next bus to Manhattan.  Upon his arrival, he took the elevator straight to the penthouse to get started on his homework and was met at the door by his mentor who looked five kinds of frazzled.  "Uh... is everything okay, Mr. Stark?" he asked, wondering what could have possibly happened to make the man appear as though he'd been trying to pull his hair out.  

"Where have you been!  I've been looking all over for you!" Tony barked in return, while simultaneously pulling Peter into a nearly strangling hug.  

"I went to Ned's house after school for a few minutes," Peter replied while rapidly tapping the man's arm in an attempt to get him to let up.  Once he'd been released, he took an overly dramatic breath and shook his backpack and jacket off onto the floor.   "We're doing a history project together and I needed to get his notes so I can start my part of it."

"-And you didn't think to tell me that you were going to be late?" Tony questioned in a tone that was somewhere between relieved and mildly annoyed.  He knew the day hadn't exactly started out on the right foot and had been a little worried that the kid had decided to not come back.  He'd spent the last ten minutes wondering how he was supposed to explain that to May without her climbing through the phone to strangle him.  He was sure if anyone could do that, it would be her.

"Honestly?" Peter replied with a defeated sigh, "No, because it's not that big of a deal, Mr. Stark.  I'm only twenty-five minutes later than I was yesterday," he said because it wasn't.  He could understand the man being upset if he'd walked in an hour later than expected but twenty-five minutes?  That was nothing.  Especially when you thought about how bad New York traffic could get at times.  

"I was worried, Pete!" Tony strained.  "May said for me to make sure that you get to and from school every day and you couldn't be bothered to let me know that you would be late?" he asked, gesturing towards the kid's backpack.  "You have a phone, you know."

That was it.  That was all Peter could take before he finally snapped.  "Would you stop it!  I'm sorry I didn't call you or something but you're acting all crazy over nothing.  Even May wouldn't freak out over less than half an hour and it's not like you called me either!" he shouted, instantly regretting it when his mentor raised an eyebrow at the volume.  

"No," Tony replied with less aggravation than he was feeling.  Some of it towards himself.  He knew Peter was right, he probably should have tried to call before anything else but he'd automatically assumed that the kid had jumped straight into the spider-suit rather than returning home.  When he'd not gotten a location he'd worried that the tracker had been removed again and had been solely focused on that.  "I was too busy checking the suit to make sure you didn't sneak off early,  May said-"

"-Oh my god!  Enough of what May said!  Just stop it.  You're not actually in charge of me and I don't need you micromanaging everything I do!" Peter pressed, turning around the moment he'd said his piece to stomp off towards his room.  

The room quickly grew quiet and Tony was suddenly ambushed by a mixture of hurt and remorse.  It hadn't been his intention to make the kid feel like he was being excessively authoritative.  He'd just been trying to do the right thing.  May had adamantly drilled it into his head that Peter staying for the week was very different than him staying for the weekend and had made him swear to keep tabs on the teenager's safety and well being for the duration of her absence.  She'd said, she trusted him and he'd not wanted to mess that up.  Though it seemed he'd messed up anyway, just not in the way he'd expected.  

With a deep sigh, Tony ran his hands down his face and dropped down onto the couch.  He considered calling May and asking her what he was supposed to do but decided against it.  He figured that since he'd dug himself into the hole, that he could dig himself out.  Starting with an apology.  Though, he opted to give the kid a little while to cool off first.  Just enough time for him to throw some premade cookie dough into the oven, pour a glass of milk and place it all onto a tray.

With everything balanced, on one hand, Tony knocked lightly on the kid's door.  When he was given the okay to enter, he tentatively stepped in.  "A cookie for your thoughts?" he asked as he placed the tray onto the corner of the boy's desk that didn't have homework strew across it.  

Rather than accepting or even declining the way, gooey offering, Peter dropped his pencil and sighed.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark.  It's just that, that-" he said, pausing briefly to collect his thoughts,  "-Usually when I come over here it's fun but this time it's been different and I hate it," he finished, chacing only one small glance Tony's direction.  He wasn't trying to sound ungrateful.  He just needed the man to understand why he was so frustrated.  

Tony chuckled a little at the kid's hesitation.  "Yeah, well, If it makes you feel any better, this hasn't exactly been thrilling for me either," he said with a long sigh, "-but this is the first time your aunt has said that she actually trusted me with you and I didn't want to screw it up," he added before allowing his frown to morph back into a mirthful smirk.  "She's scary when she's mad."

Peter laughed because he couldn't disagree with that.  May was a little scary when she was mad.  "Yeah, she is," he agreed with a nod of his head. "It's just that she gave you all of these rules and stuff but she's not even that strict about them. I mean, she is, she just doesn't get all crazy over them.  Like, she lets me stay up and read in my bed and she doesn't freak out if I don't come straight home from school," he said.

"I guess I can understand that, Kiddo," Tony said, grabbing Peter's shoulder so that he could spin him around in the swivel chair that he was seated in.  Once he had the boy's attention on him he smiled.  "I didn't mean to stress you out  I was just wanted to prove to your aunt that I could do this and I don't even know why," he continued with a roll of his eyes. At that point, he really wasn't sure what he'd been thinking.  "You're right.  I was being over the top."

"Maybe just a little," Peter replied with a small half-smile.

Tony chuckled, Patted, the teenager on the knee, and handed him a cookie.  "I think we should probably talk about all of this.  You can tell me where I went all crazy so that the rest of the week can go by a bit more smoothly.  What do you say?" he asked with a gentle smile.  He wasn't sure why he'd not done that in the first place.  Peter was a good kid.  He should have known that the boy didn't need anyone breathing down his neck for him to do the right things.  He wondered if May's insistence had been about ensuring that he would behave, more so than Peter.  Now that he thought about it, everything she'd said could probably be translated to, 'Don't hide in your lab, have something besides pizza in your freezer, don't keep him up at all hours and don't you dare encourage him to skip school,' he thought to himself with a roll of his eyes.

"Sure," Peter replied. He was more than willing to have that discussion.  Especially if it meant things could go back to something a bit more 'normal.'

"Great." Tony said with a clap of his hands.  "Why don't you go ahead and finish up your homework and maybe hang out here for the afternoon.  I can order some Thai food for an early dinner if you'd like, and then you can go swing around the city for a little while after."

Peter grinned and squinted his eyes into a playful glare.  "That depends.  Are you going to throw a banana at my head if I eat around some of the vegetables?" he asked, working hard to hold back the laugh that was threatening to escape him.

"Nah,  I'll throw a carrot at your head instead," Tony instantly replied.  "The bananas are for breakfast."

"Mr. Stark!" Peter dramatically whined, breaking into a laugh at the end.  Things already seemed better.  Tony had admitted that he'd been being a little overbearing and that was enough to allow himself to relax again.    

With a smile, Tony sighed in relief.  He'd not realized how much he loved and had been missing the sound of Peter's laugh until that very minute.  "Oh, stop with the whining and finish your homework," he teased as he gently swatted at the boy's thigh.  Then just before he got up from where he'd settled himself on the edge of the bed, he glanced towards the work piled up on the desk.  "Do you need any help with anything before I go?"

Peter opened his mouth to say that he had it under control but he stopped himself before he could get the words out. Ned's comment about the man acting like his dad was suddenly hitting him pretty hard.  He could see that now and it made him smile a little.  "I guess you could help me study for my Spanish test if you want to, Mr. Stark," he said, as he casually took another cookie off of the tray.

"I'd love to, Pete," Tony replied and accepted the stack of cards being handed to him. "Eres mi pequeño araña," he said with a soft smile.

Peter offered his mentor one of the many cookies that were still sitting between them and smiled back.  "I'm pretty sure that's not going to be on the test but, sure.  Soy tu pequeño araña," he said and from there, the remainder of his time there went without incident.  As long as you didn't count the mild argument that took place the following evening when Peter called Raiders of the Lost Arc 'a really old movie.'

" Peter Benjamin Parker, I swear to god, that's it.  Go to your room and don't come out.  I'm watching this by myself."

[countessofbiscuit]

If you're taking potential prompts...Fox and Riyo discuss tattoos in their respective cultures? Maybe while one gets a new design or a touch-up?

Fox didn’t set the Republic military standards, but he sure as heck has to exemplify them. So it’s my headcanon that he doesn’t have any tats until Riyo’s affection works on him and/or the shittiness of the rest of his life strips his uptight grain. But I like to think this still fits the bill! Thanks for the prompt : )

- - - - - 

Inked

2k. Teen. Also on Ao3.

- - - - - 

The Senate concourse never slept, but most of the Dome’s regulars had long since made for their beds when Fox spotted Senator Riyo Chuchi waiting for the Annex hovertram. She stood alone on the platform, arms wrapped snugly around herself and engrossed in the floor's marbling. The hour was far from social, but Fox had both an apology to make and thanks to offer. And there was no time like the present.

“Good evening, Senator Chuchi,” he greeted from a polite distance. Natborns, especially politicians haloed round by ego, took personal space seriously; brothers wouldn’t give both ears unless someone were right on top of them and they still might not pay any heed.

She straightened up, almost startled. But then — a diplomatic smile. “Commander Fox. Is everything alright?”

Species and biographic profiles popped across his display. Fox blinked them away.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the disturbance. I wanted to apologize for not addressing you properly the other day, when you kindly held the lift for me.” For him, the discomfited idiot, who couldn’t bring himself to enter the public turbolift he'd subversively called when faced with a mere Senate guard and a pretty woman. “And to thank you — for that, and for not giving me away to Senator Robb.”

They’d only just been formally introduced yesterday by the Security Committee Chair — and Senator Chuchi had not let on that Fox had recently broken a Dome directive. Ignorance or indulgence, it mattered little. The effect on the fresh-off-the-transport commander was the same: he was very grateful.

“Oh! Of course. You’re most welcome,” Senator Chuchi answered mechanically. Diplomatically. Stalling for understanding with a squint behind her smile.

“My database wasn’t synced to my input feeds yet,” Fox clarified. He’d been plagued by a deep need to reassure her that he took professionalism seriously. That he wasn’t chronically cavalier with protocol. “I didn’t know who you were, at first. But I’ve modded the software, so I —”

The tram approached. But it was Senator Chuchi’s blue hand on Fox's gauntlet that really stopped his thoughts short at the brainstem. She was very petite and looked about as warm as a silk petal in a breeze; but Fox’s skin prickled strangely under the plastoid.

And she wasn’t cutting him off: she was holding him in place. When the tram doors parted, she did not let go. Senator Chuchi meant to keep him with her. Closely. As no one else was around — especially as no one else was around, Fox had no argument against overstepping another rule if the Senator condoned it.

The tram was reserved for senators whatever time of day; when Dome-bound platforms were busy, and certainly when a vote was called, no mere aide, intern, attaché or privileged tourist could expect passage. The tram droid would spot you at fifty paces, bleat and wail with flashing lights, shame you into the permacrete. Clones were just supposed to walk — or, in Fox’s case, bike.

“Truly, you’re very considerate,” Senator Chuchi replied once they were onboard. “But I didn’t notice. I forget that my face doesn’t always give me away.”

It certainly gave her away as being very beautiful. Fox killed his display entirely. He even indulged the idea of removing his helmet, the better to appreciate her. But that would be quite forward: she hadn’t asked and the Guard had a lids-on policy handed down by the executive office.

Fox cocked his helmet in silent encouragement.

“Chuchi tattoos.” She touched two fingers to her cheek. “Obvious to Pantorans.”

Fox cast his mind back to cultural modules. He remembered certain trivia and understood that this was a situation which called for small talk. “I've read about Pantoran ink. Is there really aurodium in yours?” he asked in a carefully modulated voice, though there was no one to overhear.

“Yes. It’s still common practice for — among certain families. Impossible for the layman to tell, however.”

Fox mentally calculated about twenty seconds until arrival. The time begged another question. “Did it hurt?”

“The first time. But everything is unbearable to a child. They were filled out when I came of age and it wasn’t so bad.”

“Who did yours?” Fox found his questions coming as naturally as her answers. This wasn't so bad. Not at all.

“Someone my Grandmama knew. They decide these things. And they keep the rakes.”

“Rakes?”

“The tattooing tool. Usually the bone — well, it’s … it’s customary to keep an ulna and radius of one’s mother to be fashioned into rakes, and then into button hooks or hair pins once they’re worn down.”

Wasn’t the oddest natborn tradition he’d ever heard. And just the other day Stone reported that a detachment of MPs had cut their teeth over Ohma-D’un breaking up a brawl about some cursed finger of Jango’s. A few units claimed to possess one. Everyone deferred to Geonosis vets, and really, what was the harm? Well, until they came to blows over it. “Huh.”

“Do you have any?” she asked.

“Ma’am?”

“Tattoos?”

Thankfully, the hovertram was slowing into the station. It allowed Fox a transitory moment to consider why she’d care and to gather his conflicted thoughts on the subject as they disembarked.

Strictly speaking, tattoos were against regs, at least for clones. The RCMJ prohibited any bodily ornamentation that might bring discredit upon the galaxy’s preeminent military, but culturally significant tattoos and jewellery were permissible for natborns — the unspoken being that clones didn’t have a culture to claim.

“No, I don’t have any. It’s, uhh … not allowed in the Guard.” Not that Fox hadn’t seen some. Even before deployment — back before it was his problem to punish — the occasional itch to differentiate, to distinguish, had defied the longnecks’ surveillance, at least until the next quality control inspection.

Some experiments with filched hypos and med-markers had lasted longer than others. Stars and heavens help the bastards who’d inked themselves and paid for it in sweat and blood and punishment tours, only for the artistry to fade. Or for the shine to quickly wear off their youthful love of Coruscanti opera or the Galactic Senate. Or for the limb get plain blown off.

“Oh. On what grounds?” she asked.

In the main, Fox liked the RMCJ: it accorded a comforting set of guardrails, standards, and norms in a new and overwhelming operating environment. But he sensed a rebuke of the hard facts of life forming in the good Senator’s mind.

No point clouding the issue for her sensibilities; the regs only referenced what the Military Creation Act made plain in Section 3: all of clonedom, from marshal commanders to the lowest and last trooper on the production line, belonged to her federal government. Down to the dermis.

“Defacement of Republic property,” Fox offered as he followed her onto the Annex slideramp, since she hadn’t dismissed him yet.

Senator Chuchi did indeed frown up at him. “Does it really say that?”

“Yes. In the uniform code.” In a number of articles, actually — like the ones about mistreatment of service property and punishments for desertion. “There’s a certain leniency out in the field, I gather,” Fox added lightly, though privately he marvelled how any officer could sufficiently shake that feeling of a cold finger hovering behind their ear and get inked; would he even recognize himself without observational stress? “But it’d be nice to have it codified — or, err, uncodified.”

While he’d made it widely and painfully understood that facial tattoos would be burned off before they could be flagged as culturally insensitive, Fox wasn’t wholly a rule-bound, stuffed suit of armor. He was slightly more practical than purist. The Guard’s plates needed to be uniform and finer than dinnerware, sure; but so long as you were fit to fight, what happened under your blacks was between you, your sergeant, and your capacity to endure barracking.

Fox chose not to see a lot of things and liked to figure what natborns couldn’t see couldn’t hurt them.

Problem was, natborns liked to see fucking everything, especially politicians curious about how fully organic their new army was. Inspect, his shebs — bother, interrupt, and gawp at, more like. Guard Central off the Executive Thoroughfare was hardly incognito and not necessarily off-limits if you could nab some natborn logistics lieutenant with the most basic clearance.

It was only a matter of time before a guardsman got his favorite dancing girl slapped across his back in glorious color and some peeping bureaucrat kicked up a stink about a gross lack of standards in the locker room. Fox could do nothing about General Tiaan or other top brass, but at least they trumpeted a few hours before their arrival to ensure the proper pomp and ceremony — and they didn’t care about the showers.

Senator Chuchi had gone quiet as they reached the main Annex lobby. Fox’s neck dampened to think he’d lowered her spirits or given her cause to regret his company.

He also believed guilt helped no one. She didn’t seem pompous or presumptuous, just unfailingly polite. Maybe he had a chance to make a real ally. “If I may request a favor, ma’am,” he ventured, steepling his hands at his navel like he’d seen the Chancellor do when putting forth a sensitive proposition. “For my own ... err, family.”

This time Senator Chuchi arrested Fox with both hands on his gauntlets. He couldn’t have moved if Corrie’s axis pitched. “Certainly,” she said. “I like to think I’m a public servant. And not only for Pantorans.”

Fox had been primed to make a short speech about clone personhood and the need for senatorial sympathy. He was damn tired, though. And moonstruck. Enough to make him chuckle and ask instead, “If you could maybe … I don’t know, discreetly put it round that it’s gauche for politicians to drop into the barracks unexpected? The men don’t get a lot of privacy and the shower block’s the closest thing to a spiritual retreat they’ve got.”

Senator Chuchi’s bright eyes widened, his display registering a sharp increase in her pulse and temperature. “Of course. You have my word. I’ll see if can carefully address this matter of … discretion. And I’m sorry you had to ask.” Her knuckles paled as she squeezed his armor; he felt nothing but her sincerity.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Fox was so flustered, he nearly invited her to drop by his block anytime, which would’ve been the height, depth, and breadth of stupidity. Instead he said something else that was only marginally short on sense. “It’s very late. May I escort you home?”

“That’s kind of you, Commander. But my driver will be here now.” Her driver — of course: she was as rich as Koros, she possessed a smile literally finer than gold, and she wasn’t touching him anymore. Fox bowed his head low — a head that had almost outgrown his helmet in a moment of unprofessional conceit.

He had to walk back down the Thoroughfare to fetch his bike. As he did, Fox wondered what might bring him to patronize that closet in the barracks he wasn’t supposed to know about. What he’d ask for, if he ever forgot his station enough to ask. What could ever stir his heart so much, that he’d wish to mark the spot.

Hypos and hypotheticals: Fox, senior commander and paragon of the Guard, didn’t have time or liberty for either. He tried to forget all about it.

[chameleonsallinvermillion]

153 Questions for Americans

Listen, as far as I am concerned, America is a place where movies are set. I know you’re all real but you don’t feel quite real, you know. Somebody actually grew up in New York? Impossible - that only exists on TV. I have questions. And somewhere out there, there is an American bored enough to answer them. Or at least some of them. 

I feel I should clarify that none of these are loaded questions. I’m asking these with no agenda other than burning curiosity. There’s no judgement or meanness behind them. I’m sorry that I sound incredibly stupid. 

1) Do you think of yourselves as American, or does your state come first? 

2) Where does the generic American accent come from? The one most people in movies have? Is it Californian, cos that’s where movies tend to be made? That’s my current working theory. 

3) Is it true that you don’t have egg cups? 

4) Is it normal to live in one state all your life and never go to another, even for a visit, or would that be weird? 

5) Are all school buses really yellow, like in movies? 5b) Why? Are they all owned by the same company or do different groups keep identical yellow buses for this one purpose? 

6) Do you have semi-detached houses in America? They’re never in movies. 

^^ These houses! Where two houses are mirror images of each other and share a joining wall. Do you have those? 

7) Turkey is your classic Thanksgiving meat, I think? So what’s your classic Christmas meat? 

8) There must be an insane number of colleges/universities in a country that size. How do you narrow down your choices? Do most people stay in their home state? 

9) Are school sports really as big of a deal as movies make them out to be?

10) How do you decide if your school is an obsessed-with-basketball school or an obsessed-with-football school? Is it regional? Have movies exaggerated this binary too much and I’ve got the wrong idea? 

11) Are there any girls’ sports teams at schools or is it basically just cheerleading? 

12) What is a pep rally and also why is a pep rally? Who goes to them? 

13) Do cheerleaders wear their uniforms around school casually like they do on TV? Wouldn’t a sports uniform need to be taken off post-training for cleanliness reasons? Do they only wear it before training to save the trouble of getting changed? 

14) Does the average American family own a gun or are they not as widespread as it is made to seem? Is that regional too? 

15) How similar is the culture between, say, Montana and New Mexico? Do they feel like the same country? 

16) Do you get sheriffs in cities or is it only out in the middle of nowhere? What’s the difference between a sheriff and a police captain? 

17) Is prom as big of a deal in real life as it is in movies? 

18) Are prom queens a real thing and, if so, how do they work? Are there duties involved or is it just wearing a tiara for a night? Can anyone be voted in or is there a pre-prom shortlist? Do you have to apply? 

19) What is stereotypically American, from the perspective of an American? I know what the stereotypes are over here, but how do you stereotype yourselves? 

20) Why does Alabama have a reputation for incest? Is there a historical basis or do people just not like Alabama very much? 

21) Is it true that you don’t have roundabouts, or do you just not have as many / don’t have them everywhere? (You might call them something else - the little islands in a crossroads that you have to circle round) 

22) If you were asked to name European cities, what would be the first ones you would name? 

Clarification: If somebody asked me to name American cities, my brain would immediately go: New York, Los Angeles, Chicago. By the time it had thought of those, it would already be saying: Las Vegas, Washington DC, New Orleans, San Francisco. Then, Detroit, Miami, Seattle, Boston, Baltimore. After that, I would have to actively stop and think of another one. So, if somebody just says ‘European cities - go!’ what does your brain immediately leap to? 

23) Are those gigantic supermarkets (superstores???) standard across the country? What do the big brands (Walmart?? Target?????) look like in cities? Are they still that huge? 

24) Do the big grocery brands have specific personalities/reputations? What are they? Which one do middle class people look down on, for example? 

25) Is deep-frying everything something you really do or is it more of a regional delicacy / special occasion type deal? 

26) Do the states that are more “famous” (California, and the like) feel more or less American because of it? Are you a cultural beacon, or are you an independent entity shackled down to the rest of them? 

27) Do the states that often get ignored (Montana?? Iowa?????) feel more or less American because of it? Does your isolation make you separate, or are you bound together into a greater whole? 

28) I get that different states have different laws. So say one state said you could get a driving license without having to take a test, but the next state insisted on standardised testing. Would a license issued by the first state still be valid in the second state? Could you cross the border to the state with easier specifications just to get a license?

29) Which universities / colleges are really the ones with good reputations? Obviously, places like Harvard and Yale are world-famous but I don’t really know any others unless a character in a movie is aspiring to one. Which are the names that command respect amongst real people?  

30) Is the average American’s knowledge of geography or history beyond the US as poor as it is commonly described? Or is that more of a joke and the average person is perfectly well-informed, with a few outliers?

31)  Are those red cups in party scenes a convenient movie prop, because they’ve become the stereotype of “oh, that cup has alcohol in it” or something, or are they actually used that universally? 31b) If they are that ubiquitous, what happens when red is the colour of the enemy sports team? That seems like something people would care about.

32) Do you really recite the pledge of allegiance at school every day? If yes, is it done sincerely or just because it’s tradition? 

33) Are flags as popular a décor choice as popular media seems to suggest?

34)  Which state has the reputation for having the most attractive / sexiest people from it, or the people you would most want to date? Why? (I’m assuming this won’t be fully universal, but there are definite stereotypes of ‘guys from this region aren’t the romantic sort’ and ‘girls from this region are easy’ in other countries so you must have something) 

35)  What kind of cheeses do you have? This probably sounds insane, or possibly a little patronising, but whenever you see cheese in an American context, it tends to be those little plastic squares that look like linoleum flooring. Yet Americans are really into putting cheese in everything, so there must be other types. But I couldn’t name a single type of cheese off the top of my head as being a known American cheese. So what are the standard cheeses of an American household? 

36) Is that “biscuits and gravy” thing that people sometimes post pictures of when talking about the difference in biscuits across the Atlantic actually a thing people eat? On what occasion? And if that’s gravy, what do you call the stuff you pour on meat and potatoes? Are they both gravy? 

37) Do young people really hang around at shopping malls all weekend, or is that a movie thing? 

38) Do Americans eat custard? I’ve never heard an American mention custard.

39) If you had to pick an area of the country that is “where rich city folk go to pretend to get back to nature despite being afraid of dirt” where would it be? Or does every state have their own bit where people from their own cities go to buy big old houses and complain about phone reception? 

40) Why do Americans still talk about themselves as being, for example, “a quarter Welsh, a sixth Irish, a bit Swedish, but mostly German”? I don’t mean the people whose parents moved there, but the people who have been there for generations. Do you really feel connected to the cultures/countries your ancestors were from? Is “American” more of a circumstance than an identity?

41) Is Easter a widespread secular event in America or purely religious-based? What would a typical Easter celebration involve? Do you have the fruit cake and funny hats, like we do? 

42) If you had to pick one song already in existence to be your new national anthem, what would it be and why?

43) I know that it is possible to be made to repeat a grade, possibly several times, if you don’t get the required exam results. How common is that? Does it happen a lot, or is it more of a threat to hold over kids? 

44) Are there limits on how early you can legally drop out of school, or could a child stop attending at any age? For example, where I grew up it would be illegal to leave school before the age of sixteen but movies seem to imply you can drop-out earlier in the US.

45) What is homecoming? Who is coming home, and where from? 

46) What is a more important social event: prom, or homecoming? 

47) Can anybody attend homecoming, even the freshmen? I have this vague idea sports has something to do with it and it would seem logical that some freshmen play sports but how does that work logistically? 

48) Does homecoming also have a queen? Do she and the prom queen compete in some way? Which one outranks the other? 

49) Are there buses in America? Other than the school bus or the occasional long-distance coach, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bus in American media. Does a standard public-transport bus system exist? Is it only in some places? 

50) Why are trains not a more popular mode of long-distance travel in America? Or are they but it doesn’t make for as dramatic a movie scene as a desperate non-stop road trip? 

51) Are freshmen and sophomores really called that? Is it colloquial, or would you see it on official paperwork? 

52) Do teenagers get to choose which subjects they study to exam level at high school, or does everybody have to take a final exam in everything?

 53) Are places like Puerto Rico, or American Samoa, thought of as extensions of the country? Do they seem American to mainland Americans? 

54) Does Alaska ever feel left out, being up there on its own? 

56) Teen novels seem to suggest there’s an endless succession of school dances in high schools. Spring dances, winter balls, proms, homecoming, ladies’ choice dances… Is that true? If so, do people really care about them or is non-attendance no big deal? 

57) Is Halloween as big an event as movies suggest, or was Hocus Pocus not representative? 

58) Sometimes from the outside, it seems that we know more about what’s going on with American foreign policy than Americans do. Does it seem that way, as Americans, about other countries? That you’re getting information that is not being shared with their citizens? 

59) Do Americans really like British accents that much, or is that just a small but vocal handful on the internet? Do different foreign accents go in and out of fashion? 

60) What is the whole deal with white shoes and Labour Day? Or was that just a line in Legally Blonde? 

61) Do American teenagers really have sex in cars a lot or is that a movie thing?

62) Do American teenagers really sneak out of the house at night a lot, especially via the window, or is that also a movie thing? 

63) Are people as blasé about tornados as they seem or is that bravado? Are tornados really that common that people can just shrug about them and carry on with their day?

64) What age are the majority of people when they are learning to drive? Not what age can they legally learn; what age do most people actually learn. 

65) How many of the things you might call an American stereotype really only apply to one specific region? 

66) Are taxicabs yellow everywhere or is that just a New York thing? 

67) Are Sweet Sixteen celebrations a real thing? What happens at one? Is it just a particularly impressive birthday party or are there specific traditions? 

68)  Are sororities and fraternities as common or as important to college life as movies make them out to be? 

69)  Why would somebody join a sorority or a fraternity? What’s the point? (I know the phrasing of that sounds critical but I really don’t mean it like that. I just do not have the cultural context to understand what they’re actually for.) 

70) So, I know that the price you have on price labels isn’t the price you pay because of tax being a secret. I see you talk about this a lot. Does this mean the amount you’re asked for at the end is always a surprise, or are you all really good at mental arithmetic? Is calculating tax something you learn at school?

71) Do Americans generally have a good opinion of their fellow Americans?

72) Is New York the only place theatre really gets a chance to go big? That can’t possibly be true, it’s a massive continent, there must be incredible actors and writers and stuff hanging out somewhere in South Dakota or something. Is this why the people in Glee were so fixated on living in New York? 

73) The garbage-eating drains you have in kitchen sinks…where do they lead to? Can you put anything down them? 

74)  Which parts of America are the parts other Americans go on vacation? Is it different to where foreigners want to visit?

75) Do any American schools have school houses or is that absolutely not a thing at all? 

76) Do American schools have a system of merits or house points or some other way of giving a positive score for good behaviour that adds up to something eventually? Or is good behaviour expected and therefore not given special recognition? 

77) What actually is a hall monitor, and is it a position people respect or aspire to? 

78)  Is it as common for people to drive themselves and their friends to school as movies make out? How is there parking space for that many students with their own cars? 

79)  How did the town in Footloose have the power to ban dancing? Do individual towns have that much control over their laws and citizens? Does every town council get to make decisions that huge? 

80) Are big house parties the most common place for teenagers to get drunk and hook up? It seems like that in movies but surely that would be inefficient? You’d have to keep waiting for somebody’s parents to leave town. 

81)  What is the deal with Americans hating France? Is that a real thing or was it just a throwaway joke in enough media for me to think it’s a real thing?

82) Why do people not live in national parks?

83)  Which states actually count as “The South” and which ones are officially “The North”? Because it doesn’t seem like the line is just drawn across the middle. 

84) Whenever you see Americans talking about candy on the internet, it’s always the same six or seven items. Are those just the big favourites and there are lots of other candy types around the place that don’t get a place on personality quizzes, or are there really only a handful of familiar items that are widespread? Do different states have different candy?

85) Which sport is most central to American identity? I’d assume it was one of the three (baseball, basketball, American football) but is one of them more important than the others?

86)  Are all your prisons out in the middle of the desert or something? 

87) There’s this sort of mythology around an American idea of just getting a plot of land and building your home on it and making it your own, with an implication that you can grab anywhere and do whatever you like with it. Are planning laws that relaxed, or is that more something you could do in the 1800s that has taken up a place in cultural mythology? 

88) When kids are hanging out in someone’s yard or an empty lot on a summer day, what game or sport would they be most likely to be playing? It feels like American football, for example, wouldn’t be very good for that, and it’s hard to improvise a net for basketball. 

89) Is it strange to live in a large city that nevertheless is virtually unknown nationwide because all the attention goes to the enormous cities? Or are these places known nationwide and it’s just internationally that they get forgotten?

90) How far from somewhere would you have to be to consider yourself in the middle of nowhere? 

91) How localised are things like local news or local tv? Is it every state? Every county? Every major town and its surroundings? 

92) Does national television have to take place at different times regionally because of time zones? 

93)  Is there a reason why American recipes measure everything in cups, even the things that it doesn’t make sense to put in a cup e.g. solid items that don’t fill the space so could vary in cup-filling volume? A cup full of butter is a different thing if the butter is in blocks to if it is poured in, as it were, to fill to the edges completely. Is there a trick to it?

94) Is marching band the only kind of band you have at schools? Is there no orchestra? Swing band? Concert ensemble? 

95) Why do you have marching bands at schools? Where are they marching to? Do you have a lot of parades? 

96) If you had to choose one (non-reality) TV show that best represents what life is actually like in America, what would you pick? 

97) What is spirit week? Is it important? Do people take it seriously? I think it might be something that happens at schools but beyond that, I have no idea.

98) How big is a school locker? Apparently big enough to fit a person in but are they standing comfortably or curled into a tiny ball? If it were person-height, wouldn’t it have shelves in it? Does the victim go on a shelf? 

99) When you dress up for Halloween, can you be anything? I mean, could a kid going trick or treating conceivably wear any costume at all? It doesn’t have to be spooky? 

100) On a similar note, in movies there are always wild packs of children roving around on Halloween, filling the streets with their trick-or-treating. It’s crowded. Kids are running everywhere. There’s a gang knocking on every door. Is that movie magic or is Halloween really like an unofficial street party? 

101) Do you have half-term holidays? I assume you wouldn’t call them that. Mid-semester break, maybe? You know. The week off in the middle. 

102) Do you have days when you don’t have to go to work or school that aren’t for a special celebration? Just…days when the country stops working? Or, at least, most of it because cafés would always be open on that sort of day. 

103) Which is the bigger deal: Thanksgiving, or the Fourth of July? 

104) How diverse is the landscape in any given state? If you take, say, Ohio, does it all look like roughly the same place all the way through or are there lots of different landscapes going on? I feel like there should be, but there’s still this very typical image of what Ohio is.

105) Do people care about what clothes they wear to school or does the fact that everybody sees everybody every day mean that it all stops mattering? 

106) What makes something a diner rather than a café, a restaurant, or whatever else? What defines a diner?

107) What is the one, singular, most significant place in the USA? (I realise this could be controversial)

108)  What would you, as an American, say was the best thing America has ever done, or the most important contribution it has made to the world? There’s no need to be coy here, I’m not asking for a fully-analysed unbiased dissertation on the subject, I just want to know what people are thinking. A person, an invention, an action…whatever takes your fancy. 

109) How does a state fair work? Is it really a fair for the whole state? Wouldn’t it have to be the size of a city for that? Does all of that get taken down at the end of the week and packed away, or do bits stay standing? 

110)  Are music festivals an upper class thing? Coachella seems to be an upper class thing but, then, I don’t really know what Coachella is, only that celebrities are there. Are there other music festivals of significance? 

111) When Americans say things like “We drove from New York to California last weekend, didn’t even stop to sleep, no big deal”, is there an element of bravado to that or is it completely genuine? I get that you drive long distances very casually but is there a point where those distances do become a big deal and a serious trip, you just pretend they don’t to mess with non-Americans? 

112) Is summer camp a normal thing for people to do, or is it something the minority of people send their kids to but it makes for a convenient movie setting so we see it a disproportionate amount? 

113)  Is a maths summer camp a thing or was that a joke in one book I read once? What would you even do at a maths summer camp? 

114) Is standing just inside the entrance of a shop and yelling a greeting at anyone who walks in a real job or is that a movie joke I don’t have the context to understand? If it is a job, is that the whole job or are you expected to do other things at the same time? 

115) Okay, the thing about the gap between the door and the wall in a bathroom stall. Is that as widespread as people say? I mean, is it everywhere? If so, there simply has to be a reason for it, it’s too weird otherwise, so does anybody out there know what’s going on with that? 

116) What actually is Kool-Aid? Is it true that you can drink it and use it as hair dye? 

117) What is an American Girl Doll? It seems to be a big deal but I can’t really figure it out. Is it just a brand of doll or is there more to it? 

118) Are the indicator lights on your cars officially called blinkers or is that more of a colloquial thing? Or not a thing at all? Would they be called that on your driving test? In a car manual? 

119) What actually is a GPA? What is it based on? And what counts as a good one? 

120) Is pancakes for breakfast a normal thing or a special occasion thing? 

121) What are cooties? I feel like I ought to know this, it comes up so often in various bits of media, but I’ve never actually figured out what it means. 

122) Is going to a pumpkin patch and just hanging out a real thing? Do you take pumpkins home with you? How about when you go apple picking? Are all these cutesy autumn activities a normal thing to do or is it just in romantic comedies?

123) How do school qualifications work? Are the exams you take at the end of high school, when you’re eighteen or whatever, the only ones that count if you’re looking to get a job? Or are there, sort of, mid-high-school exams that could also count towards something? Is it just “high school” then “degree” or are there other levels, is what I’m trying to ask. 

124) What is making out? By which I mean, what makes something “making out” rather than just kissing? Where’s that line drawn?

125) I understand that school newspapers are a thing. But do people pay to buy them? Other students? What kind of things do you write about in a school paper?

126) How does seeing the doctor work? Do you book an appointment with a local practitioner? Are there clinics? Does everybody wait until it’s an emergency? They don’t see doctors on TV unless they’re dying.

127) In Glee, they had slushie machines in the school. Which were used as weapons of bullying. Is that real? Are you allowed slushie machines? 

128)  Why is the president addressed as “Mr President”? Is there some historic reason? It seems odd to me, like calling somebody Mr Shopkeeper or Mr Insurance-Salesman. Is it because it is so clearly not a peerage title and that was important when America began? That’s my working theory based on no history whatsoever.

129) I understand that tipping servers at a restaurant and so on is very, very important but does that extend to other jobs? Do you tip postmen, for example, when they deliver your mail? Or shop assistants for bagging up groceries for you? 

130) Is a school mascot a) a real thing and b) a position of prestige? 

131) How do Girl Scout cookies work? Do the Girl Scouts make them themselves from secret recipes? Is it just a cookie company they happen to have a good relationship with for bake sales? It seems important but I can’t unravel the mystery. 

132)  What’s Delaware like? No stories ever seem to be set there. Nobody ever really mentions it. What goes on in Delaware? 

133) Somebody mentioned something called “color guard” once, which I think is something that happens at schools, but I don’t know what it was or whether they were messing with me. I’ve never knowingly seen it in a teen movie. Tell me about color guards. It sounds so fake. What are they guarding? 

134) I know that legal drinking age is twenty-one, but what age would you say the average person started drinking? I don’t mean “had a glass of wine at a family dinner” but I also don’t mean “drank to black-out”. Just…drank socially with the aim of getting at least tipsy. 

135) I can already tell that this is a silly question but what is under the bleachers? People seem to have clandestine meetings there a lot, but I thought bleachers were just benches. How do you get under them, and what is there once you do? Is hooking up there something people do in real life?

136) How small is a small town? Is it based on population or more on facilities e.g. if it has a certain number of basic shops, it becomes a normal-sized town?

137) Movies seem to think that being involved in music or theatre at school is deeply uncool. This is so contrary to my own experience at school, that I have to ask whether it is true or not? If so, is there a reason why or is it just one of those adolescent mysteries? 

138) Does everybody have those netting screens over their windows or is that only in regions prone to, say, mosquitos? 

139) Do small towns tend to have their own little tiny high schools or do the students have a long commute every morning to a bigger high school elsewhere? How far is considered acceptable/normal to travel to get to school?

140) When it comes to prom, is it considered really important to get a date or do lots of people turn up alone / with friends? If you do have to have a one-on-one date, is it usually romantic or is it acceptable just to pair up with a friend? Movies are very intense about this and I’m not sure the portrayal is accurate.

141) Do most schools have big theatre auditoriums with fully-functional stages and raked seating, or is that just High School Musical? 

142) Is sex ed really as poor as people joke about it being, on average? Is abstinence education the norm, or is it rarer but we hear about it a lot because it’s so controversial? 

143) Are chastity clubs at schools a real thing? If so, why, when almost all students must be underage? I mean, I know people are having underage sex but why make a club about obeying the law? I don’t mean for this to sound all judgemental, I’m just really lacking the cultural background to make sense of this. 

144)  Which is the most popular state, the one the fewest number of people hate? Is there even one that is universally well-liked? 

145) Would you normally refer to your country as “America” or “the US” or “the USA” or, I don’t know, some other variation? It seems pretty interchangeable but is there a preference? 

146) Is the “no outside food in the movie theatre” rule as rigorously enforced everywhere as general media would suggest? TV shows make it seem pretty militant but they might be exaggerating for comic effect. 

147) Is kindergarten a part of the compulsory school system or is it more of an optional pre-elementary-school step that only some people attend? What do you do in a kindergarten?

148) What makes somebody a redneck? Is it just a catch-all for the rural poor or is there something more specific behind it? 

149) Why is spring break supposedly this wild party time? What makes that a more suitable time for crazy shenanigans than, say, the autumn? Or July?

150) What is the difference between college and community college?

151) If you could pick one place to add as a new state, where would you choose? 

152) If you had to get rid of one state, which one would you kick out of the union? 

153) What is a letterman jacket for and why is it called a letterman jacket?

154) Washington DC. How does it work? I understand that it’s not a state, but if it’s not a state in a federal system, who governs it? Who runs the schools? And if the big elections are held by every state collecting their votes, figuring out the majority, then passing that on or whatever, how does Washington DC vote? Do they have people in the electoral college, whatever that turns out to be? What is going on there? Do real people actually live in DC or is it just politicians / people who serve politicians? 

If you’ve actually read this far and have even the slightest intention of answering any of these questions, you are a true angel and I love you. I’m sorry they’re not divided up into thematic groups or anything like that. I’ve been collecting this list for a few years now and I thought I might as well just ask at this point. 

[notanacousticsetcal]

girl crush (lrh) - chapter one

request - nope! but my requests are now open.

summary - luke is 19 and 5sos is at the top of their game. daisy harlow is a solo artist becoming more popular by the day. daisy and luke “date” for publicity but some real feelings start to spark during their forced time together. the only problem? luke has a girlfriend.  

warnings - brief mention of an abusive father, not great relationship with her mom either, mentions of lonliness and she’s just kind of in pain? some anxiety.

word count - 1.7k

a/n - i’m planning on making this long so it might permanently move to wattpad for updating but i’ll let y’all know. also, its not clarified in this chapter but daisy’s mom is native hawaiian (polynesian).

My platform boots clack against the hardwood floors as I make my way to the stool perched center stage, a microphone resting expectantly atop it. I mentally curse myself for not touching my manicure up before the show as I stare anxiously down at my chipped nailpolish. I ring my fingers out before grabbing the mic and sitting down. I cross my legs and get comfortable as I wait for the musicians to get situated around me. It’s so quiet, you can hear the quiet chatter among bystanders in the hall. I stare at the ground uncomfortably. No matter how many times I perform, every single time without fail my hands shake and my mind races with the what-ifs. What if I mess up the lyrics and the band can’t follow me? What if I don’t take enough breaths and get all choked up? What if my voice cracks? What if I can’t hit the high notes? But once the melancholy guitar kicks in, I’m whisked away in the same chords I strummed that night on my apartment floor. The notes were a lot more choppy when I was playing them, my teary eyes obstructing my view. 

“Trying not to hold dear to my safety.” 

My hands shake. I think about my father’s face twisting in anger. I wondered what I had done this time. It was always something. That house was never a home. It was sewn together by my screams and my father’s bitter resentment. Things built on fragility crumble quickly.

“Prisoner to my miracles, save me.” 

I’m transported back to those stupid commercials. My mother dragged me all around Hollywood, passing me script after script. ‘Chin up, tamarii,’ she would say. ‘Smile big for the men in suits.’ When she found out I could sing, I was never allowed to close my mouth again. Whatever made her money. Whatever got her away from my father. At whatever cost to me.

“From the roof that I built myself, gave me.”

The day she left, so did I. Do you grieve for someone who is supposed to put you above all else? Whose job it is to keep you safe, but who fails? I left and I didn’t spare a second glance to that rickety old house. The last one on the right with the peeling yellow siding and splintered red door. The one that kept me safe and dry from the storms outside, but never the storms inside me. Or the storms inside my father. 

Everything I have now, I made myself. My mom took every cent she used me for with her, but she couldn’t take my music. And she didn’t take me.

“Only thing that I didn’t want more of was the feeling I couldn’t escape it.”

Physically, I would never have to see them again. So why wouldn’t they leave me alone? Not even my thoughts were safe.

“Waiting tables at a minute complaining that the phone would start ringing.”

Six months ago, I was waiting tables at Rico’s wondering when I could support myself doing what I love. Part of me wishes I could go back to the simplicity. I’ve never felt more alone than I do now. 

“But lately, my soul’s looking for a better way to deal with all the little changes that keep freaking me out. Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down. Sitting in the middle of a city with a million strangers and it's getting too loud.”

I let my voice express the emotion I’m feeling. Living in LA on my own has been a lot lonelier and colder than I expected. And what if this whole thing doesn’t work out? What if by tomorrow nobody likes me anymore? But above all, the person I’m most worried about disappointing is myself. Maybe because I’m all I have left. 

“Wouldn't hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down.

So I don’t let me down.

So I don’t let me down.

Got no time to be overthinking. Can’t let thoughts in my head beat the demons that wanna drive me away for believing in the things that I was so sure of. 

Had to lie, end the fight, be my savior.

Emphasizing the light to my failures ‘cause it's not black or white in its nature.

When the plane lands I’m still looking for a better way to deal with all the little changes that keep freaking me out. 

Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down. Sitting in the middle of a city with a million strangers and it's getting too loud.

Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating so I don’t let me down…

Cause I keep thinking when the sun gets better, I’ll be dancing on my fears from yesterday…

And no, I can’t keep thinking when the sun gets better, I’ll be dancing on my fears from yesterday. Cause I’m still looking for a better way to deal with all the little changes that keep freaking me out. 

Wouldn’t hurt to figure out a better way of imitating.

So I don’t let me down.”

The last note carries for a moment more as I open my eyes to the small crowd in front of me. They applaud loudly, turning off the flashlights I didn’t notice they had on. I smile as they cheer, laughing at their unexpected enthusiastic nature. With that, the band begins to pack up and I stand to shake their hands, mine no longer trembling but instead, steady as a rock.

I walk off stage, reveling slightly in this short burst of confidence I get after performing. I’m led to a back room with TVs tuned in to the show. A commercial for OxyClean is playing. I miss Billy Mays. My manager is sitting on the couch with some middle aged man with a scruffy beard and a baseball cap. Once I catch her eye, she waves me over excitedly. “Daisy! Babes, come here. Got some exciting news.” Mariah pats a spot on the sofa next to her and I sit on the plush red material. 

“What’s up?” I ask hesitantly. I love Mariah to death -- the woman treats me like her own -- but she can be a little out there. I’ve had to turn down her extravagant ideas on more than one occasion. Once, she wanted me to perform while hooked into a harness, flying over the fans. Sounds more like something Gaga would do (and rock it), but it's just not me. 

Her signature red velvet lipstick is painted pristinely across her lips, per usual. She smiles warmly at me. “This kind man is Mr. Wilson. He’s the manager of a band called 5 Seconds of Summer! I’m sure you’ve heard of them, right doll?” She blinks at me expectantly and I smile politely. 

“Of course. I’ve heard some of their stuff. They’re great.” Mariah giggles excitedly.

“I’m so glad you think that, Daisy. Jack and I -- excuse me -- Mr. Wilson and I have been talking for a few weeks now about maybe arranging something between you.” Her expression turns nervous.

“What do you mean? Like a collaboration? Well, their stuff tends to have more of a punk edge, but--” Mariah cuts in, waving her hands dismissively. 

“No, no, not a collaboration. Though that might not be a bad idea for the future,” Mariah raises her brows, nudging Mr. Wilson with her shoulder. “We were thinking something more like hanging out with them. Particularly… the lead singer Luke.” She looks apprehensive, like she suspects I might not like this suggestion.

“By hangout… you don’t mean as friends. Do you?” My tone is extremely unamused. I begin to stand, sick of Mariah’s insane ideas. “Mariah, I can’t deal with--” Mariah tugs me back down by my sleeve.

“Daisy, please hear us out,” she pleads. “You won’t have to even see him in private. Everything will be for the paps. For publicity. Both you and the 5sos boys are releasing new music and… well, Mr. Wilson and I have an inkling that this little stunt might be really good for sales.” Mariah nudges me suggestively and places a hand on my knee. “Look, sweetie. I know this isn’t your kind of thing, but you know Mama Riah is always looking out for you. It’ll only be a 2 month thing. A little fling!” I gasp audibly and push Mariah’s hand off my knee.

I shake my head. “2 months? I thought we were talking a few pictures together max! Mariah, I love you but you’re insane.” 

“Daisy, please think about this. 2 months of your life. That’s it. We’ll make it look like you're an item, but short and sweet. We’ll make the break up messy. Lots of news coverage just in time for your new single and the boys’ new album. It's genius!” She grabs both of my shoulders, shaking me with every syllable. I sigh, defeated. She was really fighting for this. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. A few extra sales for a couple months with some random boy. Sounds manageable. 

Mariah could see me mulling it over in my head. Her shoulders tensed, awaiting my response. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it.” She squeals in excitement, throwing her arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug. I struggled to breathe through her poofy curls and choke a little on her intoxicating fruity perfume. She pulls away and takes my face between her hands, careful not to claw me with her long, red nails. “This is gonna be fantastic, Daisy, you just wait.” She gives one more excited squeal and turns to Mr. Wilson. While they chat excitedly, I slump back into the soft, velvet couch, losing myself in the oversized cushions. 

The show came back from commercial break and I watch as the next musical guests take the stage. A boy with multicolored fringe straps a guitar over his body while the boy behind him sits himself at the drum kit. Another boy with dark hair walks out with a bass hanging from his shoulders. The last boy to take the stage makes his way up to the mic stand, pulling a pick from it. He slings his guitar comfortably over his shoulders and turns to converse with his bandmates. That blonde is Luke Hemmings. 

Boy, am I in for it because he is gorgeous.

[hancfubuki]

character analysis;

SAKURA FUTABA

alright, lads. those who know me or followed me on my previous blog know that i LOVE to do this. i need to clarify that i study psychology, so these analysis is coming from a professional point of view ( which i do mostly to reinforce my essays because like, teachers love to make us analyse movies and characters lol ) and solidify my characters as my passion is giving a feeling to them of ACTUAL human beings. 

now, i have seen many headcanons of futaba being autistic but, yet again, from a psychological perspective i don’t see it, and i’m gonna explain why. ( however if you headcanon her as autistic is completely valid. this is a personal analysis and perspective ).

if you have a character analysis request let me know and i’ll be more than glad to do it!!

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG POST. I’LL TRY TO MAKE IT AS SHORT AS POSSIBLE BUT I KNOW BEFOREHAND IT IS FOR SURE GONNA BE LONG. 

breaking down the character i can see clear signals of depression, anxiety disorder, agoraphobia, hikikomori syndrome and selective mutism; this last one is commonly mistaken with the autistic spectrum because the common knowledge is associating the non-verbal behavior with the autistic spectrum or cases of schizophrenia, but in fact, this condition is not only applicable to those disorders. in real life, some people have been diagnosed with autism when in fact they suffer selective mutism, so it’s better to actually understand the root of the disorder before jumping to conclusions and giving an actual diagnosis. 

let’s start with a short definition of each condition:

MAJOR DEPRESSIVE DISORDER: this condition affects negatively on the way a patient feels, thinks or acts. it causes severe feelings of sadness and in the majority of the cases loss of interest in activities that were formerly enjoyed. this also has an effect on the patient’s behavior and can also lead to physical problems. 

( SOCIAL ) ANXIETY DISORDER: a pretty common condition ( there are studies that say that nearly 30% of the adult population suffer from this disorder ). this is actually a normal reaction of the brain when it senses excessive fear or stress, it alerts our brain of possible danger and sometimes it can escalate and turn into panic attacks. 

AGORAPHOBIA: derives from the anxiety disorder. it is the fear of open, big spaces that can handle large crowds. usually the patient’s affected with this phobia feel fear mostly because they anticipate situations like using public transportation, standing in line, etc. it causes an immense fear that leads to panic attacks because they feel trapped, helpless or embarrassed. in some cases, this phobia starts because of previous panic attacks, so the patient will try to avoid those places and if something triggers that feeling, the phobia is going to act up.

HIKIKOMORI SYNDROME: this is a japanese culture-bound syndrome. it affects mostly young people in japan. they live isolated from the world, most of them locked down on their parent’s house ( some of the cases might communicate ONLY with their relatives. in the most severe cases they won’t speak to anyone at all ). this lock down can last days, months or years and it is heavily influenced by the internet and technology, as the it is their only escape. 

SELECTIVE MUTISM: also derives from anxiety disorder. the patient is unable to speak in CERTAIN social situations. it usually starts on childhood but it also affects adults. contrary to its name the person does not refuse to speak, they don’t have a choice as they are truly UNABLE to speak. certain people triggers panic on them and this causes the talking to be impossible, as it is an anxiety disorder, the person will anticipate situation as well that cause distress. however, despite of this trigger the people that suffer from this condition is able to speak freely to close family circles and friends as they don’t really trigger a freeze response on them. mostly this fear comes from the expectation the other person might have on them, and this provokes the anxiety causing a great difficulty responding or initiating verbal communication.

moving to her personality and background, from the very first moment we notice the anxiety coming from her, she is only able to communicate behind a screen and with an alias as she does not really completely trusts the phantom thieves. why do i think she has selective mutism instead of being under the autistic spectrum? easy, when you start the game you can notice sojiro constantly getting calls ( and we realize later on they were from futaba ). meaning that she is able to bond properly with him, sojiro even explains later on the game that she didn’t eat nor talk for a long time and little by little he was regaining her trust to let her know that she wasn’t alone. still, you can notice sojiro’s guilt as he is not able to take her out of the house and he is happy that at least she is eating but still you can see the traces of the depression and anxiety on her personality.

futaba explains her desire to die, a common thought that derives from depression as the people that suffer this condition usually see life as meaningless. she doesn’t want to be seen either, so she covers her face and any trace that could easily identify her because yet again, she needs trust to speak normally to another person, besides she has this constant fear of being judged which shows her anxiety. 

also a very important point is that people with this affections ( anxiety and selective mutism ) is that they might come off as RUDE or BLUNT ( something we notice on futaba ), because they are well, socially inept. however, as soon as she starts spending more time with the thieves she starts acting more relaxed and it’s when she starts showing her cheerful, childish side. i truly believe that these conditions started from her childhood, because as it is stated on her story line, she grew up being a lonely child. kids would just ignore her because she was considered a genius, her mother was never home and she started believing that her mother cared more about her research than being with her, this plus the lack of friendships and her mother’s dead only developed a severe anxiety disorder that later on was going to evolve in the conditions i explained previously. 

the thieves indeed help her to slowly start her process of overcoming her fears, and it shows that initially she didn’t really got along well with all of them, especially makoto because makoto has a more mature vibe than the others and this would only intimidate her and made it hard to actually catch her attention because most of the subjects makoto would bring were considered boring for futaba. remember that social anxiety causes that, you are not going to bond with everyone and only trust can lead to a relationship of reciprocate interest. 

overall, we can see how throughout the game she starts doing better. she creates a list with joker that allows her to conquer her own fears and well, after all everything is a process that takes years. she still relies a lot on the internet, but now she has real interaction and friends, but still when joker is about to leave she thinks about the possibility of them no talking to her anymore because akira is actually the glue in the group. of course thankfully it didn’t go that way, and they remained closed even after their leader left ( it’s canon on P5D don’t touch me ). akira is such an important figure for her as well, he has a lot to do with her improvement and i sense ADMIRATION coming from her, because akira is everything she would never dare to be. however the best chemistry she has among her friends are ryuji and yusuke, as they are easygoing, eccentric people and it’s easier to pick up trust on their personalities, as well as morgana as she shows a deep love for cats. ann, makoto and haru are the completely opposite of what futaba is yet the friendship still work because they take up on the big sis role for her. makoto is extremely mature so she actually helps her to find her boundaries, ann might have caused an issue on her self-esteem at some point but she also is someone she admires because futaba realized that she is not only looks, instead, she is an actual warrior who deals with a lot of things, and haru is the fluff ball that actually spoils her. all the different personalities among the group helps futaba towards her rehabilitation ( i’m sorry, i had to LMAO ). 

an important aspect is sojiro, HE DOESN’T PRESSURE HER INTO ANYTHING, he knows and understand what she is going through and he let her be because he is aware that HE CANNOT CHANGE HER. change and getting better is a personal decision, and of course a person needs support but you can’t actually do it for them. honestly, sojiro is a GREAT paternal figure and he deserves all the love he gets because he is so caring and understanding that he contributes to her growing. also the balance in the group of friends is really important for a person who suffers from severe anxiety disorders because it allows them to interact and explore things that are out of their comfort zone, and this is the case with the thieves. they are so different yet so similar that it is easy for her to understand how despite having a similar background it affects everyone differently, leading her to open up her mind a little and allowing her to understand that the change lies within her.

in summary, we can notice a big change on futaba, she is more comfortable outside and with people and she eventually will be over her traumas. remember that she is still growing up and she has a lot to go through, there will be good and bad times, probably future traumas that might affect her anxiety but that’s what i love about her character, it’s not about “getting cured of the conditions” is learning to live with them because they are apart of you. and this is what the character development on my futaba portrayal will go, it will be her accepting her anxiety and realizing that anxiety doesn’t control her but instead finding balance. 

[ayankun]

The Asset

so I’m making my mom watch Agents of SHIELD (obviously) and today we watched eps 1x03 - 1x06.  That’s The Asset, Eye Spy, Girl in the Flower Dress, and FZZT.

THEN I ACCIDENTALLY SPENT LIKE FIVE HOURS DISSECTING MY LEAST FAVORITE EPISODE YOU’RE WELCOME

First off, full spoilers ahead, of course.

1x03 is, hands down, the worst episode of the series.  PERIOD.  I didn’t give it my full attention when I did my rewatch, because I remembered it well enough for some reason and the guy that plays Quinn looks too much but not enough like Tahmoh Penikett to seriously irritate me.  DODGED A BULLET THERE.

Giving it your full attention does not do it any favors.  I was physically discomfited, squirming in my seat and dropping snide remarks every 12 seconds.  It’s bad, you guys. 

First off, we have this guy, who is, for now in S1, the one and only “Agent Mack.”

THE SIMILARITIES ARE UNCANNY.

Then this big rig gets dropped like 50 feet and I’m supposed to believe that this guy strapped in the back only had his glasses knocked askew?

Ok then we go see what the team is up to, and lord, three episodes has not been enough time for Chloe or Brett to Figure Their Shit Out.  They’re so awkward and dumb looking.

After a passable briefing scene, where we learn that Baldy McGlasses is a valuable asset (and beloved advisor to FitzSimmons) who was being transported with maximum security before being kidnapped, we get this wildly wild “we have to put something on the screen while exposition happens” shot:

Which cuts contemporaneously to

Thanks I hate it

Where did the atmospheric smoke go?  Was that highway always there?  What time of day is this supposed to be where the ambient light changes so drastically over a matter of seconds?  They couldn’t have kept the camera on the left side of the lane marker?

But it gets worse because Simmons has a line and the coverage for this is basically just a matched jump cut over to the other half of the line up and back again.

I can’t stand it.

So Agent Mack survived the fall and is still on the scene of the accident.  My mom was pretty incredulous that he was alive, and I was thinking it was too bad that he had to sit there for hours waiting to be debriefed instead of being taken to a hospital.

THEN there’s some FitzSimmons pratfall-adjacent sci-fi nonsense that my mom really got a kick out of.  But I was too distracted by Iain’s decision to play Fitz as a douchebag so far this season so I wasn’t in the right mood to be impressed.

Ok then we go back to the lab to do some science on the MacGuffin, and I will admit my favorite part so far is Skye challenging Coulson on the existence of the truth serum, and Coulson plays it so Coulson-y it’s truly chef’s kiss.

BUT THEN May comes along and drops 100 pounds of print media for Skye to review (oh yeah, there’s a key subplot about there potentially being a mole inside SHIELD, which is how McGlasses got got) and MY MOM who REGULARLY prints out things like Facebook posts to keep for posterity rightly pointed out that they have high-tech on this plane like holograms and stuff, so printing out all this correspondence in order to go through it page by page makes 0% sense.

Also we never see it again.

OKAY THEN COULSON AND WARD ACCOST A COWBOY RIDING A HORSE THROUGH THE WOODS.  Said cowboy also just happens to have the incriminating bag of gold on his person, which Coulson and Ward straight up steal.  That’s it.  That’s the whole concept for the scene.  Coulson’s just parked his car along a narrow woodland path, just waiting for a cowboy to come riding along so he can accost him/steal his gold. 

Check out how whack this scene-setting shot is, too.  We have Coulson on the left, facing the Cowboy on the right.  At this trajectory, you can see that Lola and the horse are basically pointed perpendicular to one another.

Yet cowboy pulls to a stop without banking and addresses something dead ahead of him.

Surprise!  Coulson’s over there now and Lola and the horse are facing dead on.

To really drive this home, cowboy spends the rest of the scene on the left, addressing Coulson who remains on the right.

Anyway so yeah, this scene is about roughing up an innocent civilian for intel and then stealing his legally acquired wealth.

At least they can’t take the sky from him.

The purpose of the cowboy gold is that it’s directly traceable back to Quinn Worldwide, which is hilarious considering that one assumes the under-the-table transaction used this method of currency in order to not be easily traced.

Coulson name drops Quinn like he’s some off-brand Tony Stark that we should be impressed with, and we are immediately shown that Ian Quinn’s defining characteristic is that he has an assistant to hang up his cell phone calls for him.  We are not impressed with Ian Quinn.

OKAY AND THEN WE GET THIS COMPLETE MIS-READ OF SCRIPT INTENT IN THIS SHOT

why why why why why why would you ignore a character’s line like that.  Why are you choosing to TELL me that a man is tied up when it would be SO EASY to SHOW me. 

Especially since the narrative so far is that McGlasses has been skillfully kidnapped by a very determined adversary, and this moment, this interaction, is where that assumption is proven erroneous.  Quinn’s line is a very specific cue that we are meant to SEE that he’s restrained, per our expectations following a kidnapping, specifically to introduce the twist that Quinn is just that budget Tony Stark who actually has no malicious intentions towards his former colleague.

A super close close up of McGlasses fails to achieve that moment the script was hunting for.  I’m feeling that the intent was to keep the focus on this dude because of the upcoming secondary twist where he is revealed to be the SHIELD mole who masterminded his own kidnapping, but this guy is So Bad at acting I don’t think keeping him front and center is ever going to pay off.

(ok I just checked and it turns out Ian Hart is a prolific English actor.  this makes me feel like I ought to chalk it up to “difficulty emoting while doing a fake American accent” but guys this performance is so bad I’m really not willing to believe there’s a good excuse)

anyway it turns out Quinn’s good guy!

.....but then he’s on the wrong side of the shot all of a sudden for no good reason and HEY maybe this set up with the wide angle on the lab and a clear look at McGlasses’ physical situation within that environment would have been an alternative for, you know, maybe some sort of establishing shot?  Maybe?  No?

Also here let’s take a moment to let the “plot” really sink in.  These two chuckleheads are former classmates and colleagues, even though one of them looks about 20 years older than the other, and Quinn discovered that “an asset” was being moved, “deduced” that the asset was McGlasses, and wanted to bring McGlasses in on his semi-nefarious science plan.  So to avoid SHIELD interference in his schemey scheme, Quinn

kidnaps McGlasses directly from SHIELD custody,

in the showiest manner, not only using but LEAVING BEHIND the exact product at the core of his scheme,

and pays a local cowboy with easily traceable gold in exchange for just some regular backhoe to bust open the big rig transporting McGlasses, instead of, I don’t know, using his massive wealth and influence and in-house R&D products to not massively incriminate himself

He couldn’t have just invited McGlasses over without calling attention to himself? 

There is the way that “the asset” was being “moved” makes it sound like McGlasses was on top secret lock down with no civilian rights or means of making/receiving contact with people like old colleagues.  But this is never clarified, like, the only other thing we know about him is that he evidently advises classes at the Sci-Ops branch of the SHIELD academy. 

ALSO we have yet to learn that McGlasses personally staged “being moved” and leaked the hints regarding the identity of “the asset” to Quinn just so that Quinn would do all these nonsense things he done.  He couldn’t have just invited himself over???

Also the conversation they have at this point is real rough, with non-sequiturs, shambling exposition, and garbage jokes that wouldn’t float even if you didn’t have a log and a ham struggling to mimic human behavior.

Also Quinn bought the PRIME MINISTER OF MALTA’S old manor specifically because it has a huge underground lab????  What about Malta do I need to know about before this makes sense?

Let’s move on.  FitzSkimmons have an only-mostly painful scene of exposition in which Iain is still having a hard time with the lines/characterization the Powers That Be are forcing Fitz to be at the moment.  I’m going to say it.  Season 1 Fitz is Utterly Unlikable.

However, this rant has given me the opportunity to 1) stand corrected and 2) appreciate this understated joke:

She’s still on page 1 of 1 billion LOLOLOLOL

The other nice thing to come out of this scene is the casual validation that the public school system may not be right for everyone, and that being a high school drop out does not mean you can’t also be an intelligent self-starter who finds value and satisfaction in picking up a trade skill on your own.  *coughs in Robbie Reyes*

UGH but then we go back to McWooden and Bargain Ham.  Their story is UNINTERESTING and their performances are HARD TO STOMACH.  Also it ends on a mirror of the shot we started with (so there is some evidence of intelligent design at play here after all)

But this framing makes me so uncomfortable like, I’ve shipped for less don’t put weird ideas in my head that no one wants least of all me--

Ok.  We’re a third of the way through.  It doesn’t stop getting worse.

So here’s the correct way to reposition your characters if you want to change up the eye lines without making it super jarring!  The start of this scene is actually really textbook-nice, just look:

The pre-mission planning is already in full swing, but we follow Skye, the outsider on the outside, approaching the scene with some amount of hesitation.

She starts on the right, facing left, and crosses across the path of the camera as it follows her towards the meeting, ending up on its left while the folks currently giving lines are framed over her right shoulder.  Your eye line and sense of positioning has fluidly followed hers, and this makes sense.

From this establishing shot, we do a real nice punch in on Coulson as he’s speaking, using a really action smooth cut as he does a bit of business with his hand.

We’re still coming into this scene from Skye’s POV, and this shot reflects that -- close enough to focus on the important action, but distant enough to show Skye’s current position (literally and figuratively) relative to the rest of the team.

The reverse shot is ... fine.  It’s fine.  I don’t like that she’s framed on the right hand side of the screen (exactly where Coulson was a split second ago), but the eye lines still match up and it does give the impression that the camera is the avatar of the audience and we just turned on the spot to look at her as she quietly invites herself to this scene and starts putting that big beautiful brain of hers to work.

Then we leave her to it!  Feel the difference this cut has, emotionally, from the last time we looked over at Coulson:

We’ve left Skye’s aloof POV and now we’re all up in his biz.  This framing tells us he’s no longer the subject of Skye’s contemplation and has gone back to being a character of the TV screen doing TV character things.

The remainder of this scene holds onto that “normal” shot-reverse-shot framing of the team as they give their opinions and work through the plan.

This laudable result of thoughtful camera work is almost instantly ruined by Fitz yammering on about using a brave little monkey to do their serious spy business and HOLY COW Iain does his best with the dreck he’s been given but there is no universe in which I will find this type of dialogue acceptable.

The valuable plot point here is that Skye is finding her footing on the team, doing hacky stuff on her phone and putting herself out there as -- wait for it -- an asset to Coulson.  Ward responds to this with bafflement, being generally supportive of her known abilities while also being doubtful that she’s a complete package, and turning to Coulson for advice on how to round her training out.

This results in yet another JARRING AF transition (read: there’s no transition) from Ward and Coulson’s heart to heart to Ward pointing a gun at Skye at some indeterminate amount of time later.

Look we haven’t even had time to ingest Coulson’s line yet and BAM we’re here.

This scene’s fine.  It’s doing double duty and that’s admirable.  Triple duty, even.  Many duties are being performed in this scene.  We have

fledgling Skyeward

the introduction to the gun-manipulation maneuver Skye will use later on

Skye’s irreverence butting heads with Ward’s need for brass-tacks

at least one solid joke at Ward’s expense

Ward valuing Skye’s er, assets -- I’M TALKING COMPUTER SCIENCE YA PERVS

a very competent conversational segue into Ward’s Whole Deal, wherein we are introduced to the concept of his childhood trauma (lolol and man does Brett just fail to deliver these lines in any sort of a way that inspires human empathy wowowo he’s so bad in this one)

a callback to an earlier conversation as well as a set up for a future joke

SKYE STEALING WARD’S GUN FROM OUT OF HIS PANTS A++++

Now we go into pre-heist plan-walkthrough mode, and it’s so boring and lifeless that Skye’s actual summary line is “Plan, green, drop, walk ... pie.”  To be honest, she got more out of the discussion than I did.

May has an interesting character moment where she’s complaining about going into the field and then immediately regrets it because she was never going to be sent in, but that means Coulson’s going in instead and that worries her.  I keep thinking back on this season as being unfocused, but that’s because I forget that the sales pitch for this entire shebang is “we killed Coulson in Avengers but now here’s a show where he’s the lead because everyone loves him so much” and the subsequent focus of the inaugural season is everyone’s burning curiosity to find out how they undid his murder. 

Aside from the sci-fi/Marvel/generic spy show gimmick of the week, these early episodes never fail to prioritize the interpersonal dynamic of their team while simultaneously teasing out the Coulson mystery with these nice little regular hits.

I let it keep playing while I was typing, and we flew over some whatever business where Skye goes to Quinn’s party, and Coulson and Ward land their little raft on the beach, and the other kids are watching from the Bus and FITZ IS AGAIN TERRIBLE

I feel you, Jemma.

(Also, am I wrong in hearing him give in and say “boobs?”  The Netflix subtitles have it as “oops” but that can’t be it.)

Anyway so Skye’s busy using her Assets to win Quinn over, and Chloe’s shining moment in this scene is the delivery of the drivers test joke.

Back to stuff that’s gratingly awful, we’re supposedly on Malta, right?  And you know how Hollywood generally and the spy show/movie genre specifically tries to stretch their location budgets by putting on color filters to “evoke” distant lands?

We go from the above, washed out and unfiltered, to this sepia-toned nonsense:

This is supposed to be taking place basically right outside.  Why not just keep the filter on for the interior scenes, too?  There’s plenty of searing Maltese light coming in through that wall of windows.

(They must have had a hard time on location for the manor shoots, though, it’s just as washed out in the earlier scene set outdoors that I didn’t show you because it was boring but I’m showing you know because it’s not even the same color filter as the Coulson/Ward shots

)

((Also, yeah, I get it.  You can’t fly to Malta for a day for a television shoot.  But how many people are you fooling when you put the Santa Monica mountains in the backdrop of every exterior shot?))

So we go back and forth between these high-grain-low-saturation beachfront stuff to these holy angelic light of judgement shots and I hate it.

Like, why choose to shoot against this nuclear-blast light?  It’s not doing your actors any favors.

Especially when you’re ALSO choosing to depict that same “natural” light with a whole different palette and then continue to give us the opportunity to compare and contrast.

Also I hate the Ward/Coulson business because it’s just generic spy stuff where some guards come out of nowhere and I guess maybe it’s implied that their cute boat was found but it could just as easily be that it was explicitly stated that there were guard patrols and I forgot. 

But then they fight and defeat the guards in literally under 8 seconds and that’s that.  End of stakes.

The character moment that validates this trivial obstacle is that Coulson tries to do something with a gun and finds that May’s concerns weren’t entirely unfounded.  He’s a little rusty. 

Also Ward’s response to this is to chuck the gun into the laser wall and I don’t know why.  In any case, the energy from both of them in this screenshot really resonates with me.

So then Skye Does The Thing with her Assets and if you’ll let me be picky again about plot holes, why does the wireless access MacGuffin need to have an interface for Skye to check that the connection is possible, and THEN have that connection activated by LITERALLY dropping it on the table.  They couldn’t have set it to auto-scan and then tell her through her earpiece to stay still when the connection activated itself?

Whatever.  Success!  Immediately followed by ... INEXPLICABLE OBSTACLE

WHO, praytell, is on the other end of that walkie talkie?  Because the downed man is the man you see.  Typically, it would be like a survivor of the scuffle who radios for backup, but here we see the scene of the scuffle and some unknown unseen ADDITIONAL MAN who I guess is just spying on them from somewhere and radioing still more unseen men?

Instantly hearing this news, the Unseen begin a sniper assault on Coulson and Ward, and we get to see their bullets getting evaporated by the laser wall.  Remember those guards walking along the sea cliff towards the sign?  There’s no place for the snipers to be sniping from, unless they have some kind of invisible floating island.

This scenario is made even more hilarious once Fitz brings down the laser wall and Coulson and Ward dive through like they think they some kind of James Bonds and then the wall goes back up and the snipers keep sniping.

Why aren’t the guards on the inside of the perimeter of the compound which they guard?  This laser fence is now protecting the intruders.  Minor design flaw.

Anywho, Quinn is still talking about how he doesn’t trust SHIELD and SHIELD doesn’t trust him, so it’s like, what are we supposed to believe about this guy anyway?  Why did Coulson introduce him as bargain bin Tony Stark if he was known to be bargain bin Justin Hammer all along?

So now that snipers have failed to snipe the intruders, some Seen Guards come to alert Quinn so he breaks the wireless MacGuffin and turns a gun on Skye.  (Just sayin, if it had been some secret device that was still in her bag, she’d have plausible deniability) 

I think, at this point, I have two conclusions

Team Coulson has no extraction plan for getting McGlasses out of the compound since they don’t have a Plan B to get back through the laser wall, no firepower to use on the Seen Guards, and no available land-or-sea getaway vehicles.

There was never any sort of extraction plan for Skye even if the laser wall and the Seen Guards were not an obstacle.

Here’s where it gets the messiest.

Coulson busts in on McGlasses but is told no rescue is required.

AT THAT SAME TIME

May has just popped open a tablet over in some room by herself, evidently disinterested in whatever FitzSimmons is probably doing right now in light of this drastic turn of events, and she’s randomly googling up on the SHIELD leak mentioned earlier, only to discover that it was MCGLASSES ALL ALONG.

Keeps a cool head, our May.

Yeah, we know, we .. he ... he just said ... you know what?  We didn’t actually care, though?  Who the mole was or that it was McGlasses.  We certainly didn’t spend the last half hour watching May diligently tracking down some breadcrumb trail of clues to get to this dramatic reveal, only to find out a second too late.  We didn’t even see her checking up that Skye had/didn’t have this angle covered.

Did she print out the contents of the four-foot binder as some sort of eco-terrorist cruel joke since she was just planning on spending three seconds on the computer to complete the same task?

Ok so Coulson misinterprets McGlasses’ decline of his rescue operation as collaboration with Quinn until May clues him in.  We then go to commercials and come back and have to go over all this info again just in case we didn’t follow that super exciting double-cross the first two times.

At which point we figure out where all the pre-production time was sunk -- somebody had to spend a lot of effort envisioning how they were going to do the wacky-gravity scenes.  My feeling is that fun challenges like that are what stand out to people who are working on a thing, and sometimes the prestige of “pulling that off” can overshadow the need to pay attention to other, less exciting aspects of filmmaking, like making sure your eye lines stay coherent in a scene or that your color gradings aren’t super distracting.

Anyway I do really like the load-bearing scene where Quinn threatens Skye at gunpoint because it is one of those many examples this season has of laying ground work for and paying off character moments.

Skye’s flip and smart and completely not ready for this level of field action, but she remembers her training, remembers how earnestly Ward wanted her to be ready for this defining moment, and gets the gun!

That “nOPE” when she can’t shoot the man is also Classic Skye and we Love Her For It.

Anyway oh yeah, McGlasses reveals his master plan to get kidnapped, so that he could get on site and ruin Quinn’s everything because he’s a Bad Justin Hammer.  His performance is SO PAINFUL and his reasoning has yet to make sense.  Coulson doesn’t ask “why did you have to be kidnapped to get in, though” but he does ask “why didn’t you try reasoning with him” as if that were the question we needed an answer to.

Also it turns out FitzSimmons has been pretty chill this whole time since their agents lost their extraction plan (well, they’re smart, they probably knew all along that there wasn’t one) and are just puttering around the lab working on what looks like their regular day-to-day science, talking excitedly about gravitonium rather than panicking that the whole plan’s gone to shit.

Unflappable.

COME ON PEOPLE the mission wasn’t “throw McGlasses into the gravitonium and do high-fives” it was “rescue McGlasses from Quinn’s grasp.”  From the way that this plays out, there is 0% indication that their initial plan was ever expected to succeed.

WE DON’T EVEN SEE HOW THEY GET OUT OF THERE, WE JUST LOOK AT SOME MCGRAVITONIUM AND THEN SEE COULSON ON THE BUS INSTRUCTING THE CONTAINMENT FACILITY ON HOW IT SHOULD BE HANDLED.

Oh well, the gratuitous plot is disposed with after this point.

In the denouement, we get to see May and Coulson interact over his experience in the field and her experience being stuck watching him in the field.  She’s finally ready for combat, but strictly for his sake.  And he’s at the point where he’s ready and willing to take her up on her offer instead of trying to prove that he’s everything he was before he died.

Following that, we get some Skyeward with some really gross romantic comedy type music.  Bear, you’re better than this!!  But the scene is nice, Chloe really brings it (almost brings too much) and Brett is there to support her.

It’s a really on-the-nose admission from Skye that her allegiances lie with SHIELD, but its an organic continuation of that bit from earlier where she wandered all up on their meeting, the outsider, and pushed her way into the heart of it.  She wants this.  She wants to feel like she belongs here.  And now she’s been trusted with some opportunities and tools to prove it!

This early in the season, we’re still doubtful that she’s on the up and up, what with that Rising Tide plot thread hanging so loose and tantalizing over our heads.  Due to the potential of a storyline revolving around her betrayal, there are a lot of fun little moments in the next few episodes where Ward gets to say some betrayal-related stuff that is absolutely excellent in retrospect.

I was watching some old interviews and while it is very clear Brett did not know the fate of his character in advance, it’s also distinctly implied that no one knew and the arc of the season may have developed episode by episode.  That’s so nutty to me, considering how strong the structure of the season is, how there are so many satisfying call backs and payoffs later on.

I think I’m more likely to applaud a well-plotted narrative, in which foreshadowing and a deliberate order of events slowly unravel to great effect.  But I can definitely appreciate the ability to force the illusion of the same by being crafty and attentive and not letting any usable threads go to waste.

Ultimately, whether by design or by providence, Season 1 is successful in pulling it all together.  It’s just that episodes like this one don’t really inspire you to believe that that outcome is likely, or even possible.  Episodes like this one cause a person to give up watching halfway through the season and walk away for years until cajoled into giving it another shot because “it got good somehow.”

But what this season has, every episode, especially ones like this one, is a pronounced, chaotic, relentless prioritization of Character over Plot.  What is this show about?  Who cares.  That’s the wrong question.  This show could have been about anything, and these early episodes are all too aware of it.  What kind of story can you tell when every option is on the table and no one knows what to expect from you?

You find that story, step by step, episode by episode, through the eyes of your characters.  The forward motion of the story isn’t “how did Coulson come back to life” but “what is life going to be like for him now?”  It’s not “will Skye betray the team” it’s “what does she want and what is she willing to do to get it?”

Posing and answering these character questions generates the Story of Agents of SHIELD.  Plots be damned.  Remember how at one point in this episode, our heroes robbed a cowboy at gunpoint?  Yeah.  Me either.

And I can’t agree more with this approach.  In my experience, PWP works best when its about the characters.

[lyndaspearman]

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[frauleinalcantara]

listen before i go ( Jonh Shelby x Reader )

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: 𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 (𝑌 / 𝑁) 𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑎𝑡 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦 𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑦, 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑖𝑛𝑣𝑜𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑏𝑜ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝐽𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑆ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 2,390

Birmingham, 2019.

Public transportation moved slightly by making (S/N) sit quickly in his seat so that it would not fall embarrassingly and funny. After settling in place, he stuck his hand in his purse and tried to pick up his cell phone, unlocked him and sent a direct and blunt message to his sister:

"On standby I already apologize, I had to leave early for the interview, enjoy the coffee.

I love you.

An involuntary sigh escaped from his lips, while his fingers touched: Send message.

It was three months since you moved to central Birmingham, where your sister lived just over a year ago after getting a scholarship at the University of the City, meanwhile you finished school and was recommended by the services you provided at Sparkhill library to work as a secretary at a beverage production company and exporter. You couldn't deny that at first you thought about giving up such an idea, because it was a strong change, going from a public library to a liquor company. But you can't deny that you needed the money to pay for your studies and help your sister with the expenses of home, you had to accept.

The phone ring made her stand out a little bit of the seat, looking sideways in search of some fun look that saw the scene, you picked up the device and visualized the screen:

“Melanie”

A young woman approached and sat next to her, she looked at her quickly and wished her: Good morning, you smiled without your teeth and wished the same. However, your worried eyes returned to the screen of the phone that flashed alarmingly, you slid your index finger on the screen answering it.

"Finally,  " began to creak his teeth.

— Melanie  —  (Y/N) sighed  , I am almost in Small Heath and...

"Great, when you get there, go to the station and take the first train here! — screamed in response, the girl next door seemed to have noticed the discussion on her cell phone, because her eyes left the book resting on her lap and spied in singing, the fingers of (S\N) rubbing in the scarf involuntarily and nervously  — Do not rush into their decisions, see, wait a little longer and inform the agency that the job they suggested does not match your profile and experiences

"Mel,  I love her, and I appreciate the concern — the  voice has failed behind the right words for persuasion —But   I don't want you to burden the expenses of the house, plus I want to start my college soon, I need the money—A    defeated sigh might be heard on the other side of the line, while a delicate smile sprouted in the corner of the young woman's lip (S\N).

"If nothing works out there in Small Heath, we'll look for something right here, all right?

"Yes, closed—    hummed (S/N), pulling your fingers away from the scarf.

" And try to come back early, avoid busy streets...

(S/N) hung up the phone quickly because she knew Melanie's warnings would last for hours if she thought it was necessary and remembered everything. However, in relation to the moment he got on the bus and there, close to arriving at his destination, a twinge of confidence appeared in some part of his body that drove out the butterflies that dwelled there.

A touch made her look quickly to the side, finding certain blue eyes.

"I apologize for listening to your conversation—   the woman began by closing the book and sticking it in the bag, (S/N) readily recognized it: Communist Manifesto, Marx and Engels.

"Imagine, I apologize, I've got in the way of reading with the conversation...

"My boyfriend gave it to me as a gift while I had asked for a trip, so I'm desetting that reading as much. But I couldn't let it slip that you're after a job.

(Y/N) shook with his head.

"In fact, I've been referred by the college in partnership with the employment agency, it's like a project, you know?

"Of course, my boyfriend participates in an association in Small Heath, we like to engage in these social initiatives —  commented interested and turning a little to observe her better  —  It's thought-provoking, because you don't overload yourself at work and can afford school.

"And you still have experience as an advantage! —  smiled (Y/N), The woman's gaze jumped out the window and she rose in a simple way.

"What's your name? "asked  her.

“(Y/N) Turner “ responded even though he did not understand the woman's sudden interest.

"Well, my name is Ada Shelby—   presented himself simply —(S/N), give me your number so we can keep in touch, if it doesn't work out your job, I can fix something for you in the association.  

(Y/N) stood up quickly, getting a confused look from Ada.

"Are you going to get down on this? Well, I'm going to owe you, too.

"Where would this company be interviewed?

You searched for a card inside your pocket and spread your eyes in an attempt to read the name, because you had forgotten your glasses and only at that moment that you needed them had noticed oblivion:

" Shelby Company LTDA  —  answered (S/N) and noticed the woman's upset feature  —  Ada, do you know this company?

Ada took a deep breath and continued:

"It is the business of my brothers, (S/N)  —  clarified indicating to the card "The distillery and export. Come on, let's get down before we get over our point ".

The woman headed to the transport doors and went down with all her convinced golden, while (S/N) simply jumped anyway on the sidewalk and staggered with Shelby.

                               ━━━━━━━━━//━━━━━━━━

The façade of the firm was presentable, nothing very luxurious, however maintaining the appearance of a serious business and that grew every day.

"But of course they wouldn't accept, he never cared about  us — she  muttered as if it were obvious, she looked at her as if she had said a secret and after tried to disguise it —Well, I'm guiding you, (Y/N) because I admired your stance on helping your sister, and besides, I'm afraid of certain attitudes from my brothers, so be yourself and be calm, Thomas reads people as if they were books.

You didn't contain a nervous smile that sprouted in the corner of your mouth, and Ada mimicked the gesture.

"I thank you for the support and slight confidence, for I am an unknown — you lifted the clock and it was about saying goodbye to Ada who mentioned that he would stay there for some time, for he had affairs to deal with an aunt.

The sound of your heels made an annoying noise in front of the room in which you had to cross to get to the office of Thomas Shelby, the head of the company. Faced with all the curious male looks that stopped for an instant their works, their gaze urgently sought a female figure in front of all those laughter, parallel conversations and some men even drank. Finally, as a light at the end of the tunnel you spotted a slender and elegant woman carrying some folders in the middle of all that euphoria as if it were something normal in everyday life.

"Excuse me, I'm (Y/N) Turner, the college employment agency referred me to an interview here at this  company —explained  by showing the card and some papers the woman looked closely at.

She lifted her gaze and let out a soft smile.

"I am Lizzie Stark, I am The Secretary of Mr. Shelby — she  dared not shake hands, for she held the folders —Apparently, you are the last to be interviewed, Thomas spent the morning in the office attending everyone who also came for the job, God knows how much he hates getting stuck in the room.

She said in a tone that she turned herself in so that it looked like the two were more than boss and secretary.

"I understand how tiring it must  be,"  he replied (Y/N) in an attempt to respond to all that short outburst, in a positive way and not just as a nod- to a nod —  So do I announce myself or do you need to do that?

Lizzie looked at her with a certain kind of sympathy and surprise.

"I could let her go and see Thomas' face when he saw you breaking into his office, but you're too cool for that, Miss Turner, accompany me —she  put the pile of briefcases on the table of a young man sitting stripped, looking at the chaos of the place as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"What the hell are you doing, Lizzie? - the boy was unworthy to stand up promptly and turn his attention to (S/N) who felt uncomfortable in front of the scene.

"Either you do something here, Finn or I tell Tommy to put him to work in the Association of Ada and Freddie.

(Y/N) stirred a little while listening to Ada's name, and this Finn grumbled bravely and picked up the briefcases.

"Don't fuck, it's just crazy  there —he turned around taking one last look at (Y/N) who bothered the boy's attitude by offending the association in which Ada, had said he faithfully engaged with her boyfriend.

Lizzie touched her and asked me to follow her to Thomas Shelby's office. At each step the heart of (S/N) accelerated more and more, remembering Ada's comments about man and his personality.

The woman touched the door twice and opened the door quietly, she made a sign that (S/N) would wait a moment, and the girl obeyed her adjusting her outfit once again, she possessed a lock of her hair behind her ear, while carrying a basic makeup, with a simple outline and a soft gloss on her lips, which contrasted perfectly with the white high collar blouse under the black blazer and the pants of the same color. (Y/N) had worked hard to look serious and determined with that appearance , but deep down the feeling of millions of butterflies breaking into her stomach, returned more intensely when Lizzie made a signal for her to enter the office.

The young woman breathed calmly, while the woman gave her a space and smiled openly, (S/N) only broke eye contact with the same that conveyed comfort to her only with a smile, when she visualized the room, the most intimate place in that whole company. The room had a powerful and elegant look, the curious look of young Turner landed on the man leaning against the huge desk crammed with papers.

He carried sharp blue eyes and a rigid posture.

— (Y/N) Turner, this is one of Shelby Company LTDA's top owners, Thomas Shelby      — presented Lizzie with a satisfied tone.

You smiled in respect and approached the man in calm footsteps. He deflected the look from (Y/N) to Lizzie.

"Thank you, Lizzie. You can leave us  now— the  voice sounded authoritarian and at the same time kind. The woman obeyed promptly, and the light door knock could be heard.  

The young woman firmly shook the man's hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Shelby, "he  just nodded and pointed his head to the leather-coated chair.

"Do you accept anything, Miss Turner? Water, whiskey...— he  could visualize his frightened look and snuff, you suspected it to be a laugh, a serious man like him would deprive himself of laughter in the face of a situation like that with a young woman —Sometimes I forget that I'm dealing with young people.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby... but I'm fine  —  he stuttered (Y/N) and mentally hated it, a simple answer and her anxiety spoiled her.

He served himself as whiskey and soon turned the dose with a single sip. He walked a little and sat in his armchair, his fingers strolled through his eyelids and he breathed a long breath.

"All right, Miss Turner, how did you find out my business? —  asked by raising his arm towards him, opening his hand and expecting something you suspected to be his resume. His agile hands flew into the briefcase, taking the paper out of there and landing it in the man's impatient hand, he sought his round glasses and read it.

" As stated in the curriculum and you must be aware, there is a project that the employment agency and the college carry out for young people who stand out in some way. They enjoyed my service at Sparkhill's library and they forwarded me here after my studies were completed. I did some research on his empire — (Y/N)   highlighted fun and noticed the man's considerate look at it.

"Sincerely, tell me, would you dedicate yourself here at the Shelby Company?

Persuasion, (Y/N)! But how to persuade a man who was in control of the conversation?

"Just as I dedicated myself to the library, I would do the same here, sir, even more so because I will finally make money — (Y/N) laughed nervously by observing man's immutable expression — Anh...As I said, I will do everything in my power to see the well-being of those to whom I work and contribute positively to the growth of the company.

He watched her another moment and turned his gaze to the curriculum, Ada's words returned strongly to her head. He was comparing the physical (Y/N) and the (Y/N) curriculum.

After a moment, he took off his glasses and stood up walking to the young woman, handing him the resume.

"Your references are acceptable, and by far you are the one that seems most fit for that  position "—you  couldn't help but let a small smile out.

He scolded her with a look.

"But don't be happy, Turner. I'm hiring you, because you're the only one who stood out and I can't stand anyone else here flattering me ".

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby.

"You're still going to have to make a lot of progress, so far it's just," he said at the end,  "Tomorrow  you can start, ask Lizzie for guidance that she'll tell you what to do.

"I promise not to disappoint you, sir," exclaimed once again leaving the room with a victorious smile.

[cyclone-rachel]

Pay the Asking Price

a Supergirl fanfic

chapter 15

AO3 link

previous chapters: 1//2//3//4//5//6//7//8//9//10//11//12//13//14

~

When Querl woke up, he thought he was still dreaming.

He still wasn’t wearing his image inducer, he realized, but that didn’t matter- the woman lying beside him loved him for who he was, alien appearance or not. They were illuminated by the soft morning light coming through Kara’s windows, and when he turned over to his other side, she was there with her eyes open, looking at him lovingly.

For he was in her bed, her white and green and blue comforter draped over them both, and neither of them were completely wearing their pajamas.

“Kara.” He said, smiling at her. She ran a hand through his hair, before kissing his cheek.

“Good morning to you too.” Kara answered. “Your hair looks really cute when it’s messy, you know.”

“Then I will try to have it like this more often.” Querl said.

(He didn’t think messy hair could be cute, and being who he was, he was often held to a higher standard where his appearance was concerned- meaning that he had to look immaculate in all areas of his grooming, including his hair, and any deviation or deterioration was usually a sign that he was working long hours, or otherwise neglecting his needs in favor of professional concerns. He would have been concerned… but now, with her, he was starting to see things differently. She was giving him a reason to relax, and work while still taking care of himself, and he now allowed himself to be more vulnerable around her.

To wake up with messy hair, and not be afraid of what it meant for him or what he was doing)

“You don’t have to do anything.” She said.

Querl relaxed, and kissed her forehead.

“Then I will not.” He answered. “Thank you. I… trust that our night together was good?”

“It was. You were.” Kara said. “Thank you, Querl. I felt so good this morning that I could’ve… I don’t know, pulled a tanker or helped deliver a litter of puppies, or stopped a bunch of armed robberies- or even just gotten coffee and flowers for us.”

“You can still do all of those things.” Querl answered. “I can wait for you.”

“Yeah, and I wanted to wait until you woke up.” Kara said. “I mean… for a long time, before I came to Earth, I was stuck. I didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.”

Querl took her hands, and gently held them, as she continued.

“And sometimes, even now, I still feel like that. Dreams blend into reality… and waking up to see one of the most handsome men I’ve ever met next to me felt too good to be true. But it was real, and you’re real, and I’m so happy that you’re here.”

“As am I.” Querl said. “And I will always listen, to whatever you want to say.”

And I would be happy to wake up beside you for the rest of my life.

He gradually let go of her hands, then, as she got up- and before he knew it, she was in her Supergirl suit, off to save the world in the way she knew how- or at least save the morning- and then she was back, carrying a small tray of coffees from Noonan’s and a bouquet of roses.

Querl put the bouquet into a vase, and after Kara changed into civilian clothes, she hugged him, as his arms went around her, and they kissed again.

“Sure is nice to do that without breaking the person’s nose.” Kara said, whispering the words into his mouth.

Querl pulled away, just a little.

“How many times has that happened?”

“Less than… five.” Kara admitted sheepishly.

“So, four? Exactly four times?” he asked, as Kara laughed, leaning on him for a moment before they kissed again.

“Maybe.” She said. “But… I’ll tell you about that later, because we have to be at work in 20 minutes.”

“Yes.” Querl answered. “We do.”

“And speaking of which, could we keep this… quiet?” Kara asked. “I want people to know, it’s just…”

I don’t want this to end up like what happened with James. I won’t let it.

“For now.” She clarified. “The last time I liked someone, everyone in my life watched, and commented on it, and I just really don’t want that to happen to us.”

Trust me, I understand that.

“So, there is an “us”?” Querl asked.

“Yeah.” Kara said, smiling at him as she held him again.

“I like that.”

They kissed again, and Querl knew he would never get tired of such a sensation.

“Of course we can keep it quiet.” He said.

I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise to you.

~ And he didn’t. But it was very difficult, later that day when they were in the DEO together, not to walk up to J’onn and Alex and announce that he and Kara were dating. He wanted for the two of them to be holding hands, wanted to kiss her in public, anything to remind him that this relationship was a real and tangible thing. Kara Zor-El had chosen him, he had chosen her, they had strong feelings for one another and nothing- not even having to fill out forms from the DEO’s HR department and having to attend seminars, as he was sure they’d have to do once they told J’onn and Alex- would hinder that.

However, Querl also knew that he likely would not be telling James about the nature of his and Kara’s new relationship. He and Winn seemed to be together now, and were quite happy with each other, but it just seemed insensitive to tell him on his own, without Kara there. He could have told Maggie and Lena, but he didn’t know them well enough, and Eve… well, she seemed like someone he couldn’t tell any sensitive information to, no matter what it was.

Winn, though… he was a safe option, as long as Kara let her tell him. He was in a new relationship himself, and might share in the excitement Querl admitted he was feeling at the moment. He was a friend of Kara’s, and had been working with Querl long enough that he felt that they knew each other better than he and some of Kara’s other friends. And Querl wasn’t sure about how well Winn could keep a secret, but he had kept James’s long enough, so what was one more?

But again, he couldn’t tell him yet. So Querl only kept his and Kara’s relationship “close to the vest”, so to speak, and with that human phrase in mind he imagined such knowledge was held in concentrated form, beating in time with his heart.

“Holy Cadmus crème egg.” Winn said, just as Querl had been thinking about him, and pulled something up on the monitors.

“Cadmus? But they’ve been dark since Lillian broke out of prison.”

“Ah, but they are back and with a vengeance.” Winn continued, zeroing in closer on the footage he had. “We got a convoy coming out from one of their suspected weapon storage facilities.”

“Tell Alex and Querl to set up a backup team.” Kara said, not thinking about the fact that she’d just used Brainy’s real name.

(The name that she’d had on her mind ever since the time they’d shared last night, that she’d gasped almost into his mouth, that she thought suited him far better than his title did)

(She didn’t know whether or not Winn would read too much into it, but she sure hoped not. As happy as she was, the idea of revealing a new relationship so soon was still daunting, and no less scary- and it would’ve been even if she wasn’t Supergirl.)

“You’re going alone?”

“No, I’m taking the other fly guy.” Kara answered, already on her way out.

“Teamwork makes the dream work!” Winn shouted after her, and if Kara looked behind her, she’d probably see him doing finger guns, or perhaps a double thumbs-up.

But right then, she was focused, and her focus led her and J’onn to the Cadmus trucks, to an area near a Lord Technologies active test range.

Where, after not being able to see inside the main truck initially, and being shot at from several of the vans surrounding the truck, Kara Danvers finally found her adoptive father again.

~

Querl, wanting to leave the Danvers sisters to their family reunion in the DEO medbay (as Alex took care of Jeremiah, checking to see how much Cadmus had really done to him) got a briefing of the situation from Winn, who had the courtesy to wait with him outside.

According to him, Jeremiah had been lost in the Amazon rainforest, and woken up in Cadmus, where he had personally been forced to turn Hank Henshaw into the being known as the Cyborg-Superman. He had been made to stay there precisely because he’d apparently done such a good job enhancing Henshaw, and though he had tried to escape, each attempt was unsuccessful. But he saw his confinement as a good thing- through it, he was able to keep his daughters safe.

“I came as soon as I heard.” Querl said, entering after he thought it appropriate to do so.

“Brainiac 5 of Colu.” Jeremiah said. “We meet again.”

“I’m glad you are unharmed.” Querl answered- though a scan revealed that he, too, had been enhanced below the surface. “I was worried that, after you let us out, Cadmus would-“

“Imprison and torture me for betraying them? Well, you’d be right.”

Kara, beside Querl, looked just as worried as Querl had felt- and was now sad for him, closing her eyes and letting her head drop down in a mournful pose.

“Dad, the, uh… the damage to your hand, it’s extensive.” Alex said, turning Jeremiah’s attention to her.

“It was… a punishment for helping Querl and Kara escape. But I would do it again in a heartbeat… so lucky you found me. So lucky to be back with you two.”

He smiled at his daughters, as Alex looked like she was about to cry and Kara was smiling back. The punishment and torture he spoke of showed on his face, and clearly it was difficult for both sisters to handle, as happy as they were to have their father back.

But Jeremiah’s words triggered a thought process, in Querl’s mind, as he considered the scans he’d ran of Jeremiah’s body, just how easy it had seemed for Kara and J’onn to get him off of the transport- and for that matter, how easy it had been for them to find said transport in the first place, how Cadmus- if he was indeed one of their valuable assets, predisposition for betrayal aside- hadn’t seemed to fight for his return…

“It’s more than luck.” He concluded, and it wasn’t until J’onn stared at him, with the others following suit, that he realized he’d said it out loud.

“What do you mean?” J’onn asked, standing up.

“We received an alert that Cadmus was moving a weapon, we do not get alerts unless they’re releasing a video or we catch them red-handed, as the saying goes.” Querl answered.

“But we did catch them red-handed.” Kara said.

“Yes, but they meant for us to see them- waving said metaphorical red hands in the air.” He answered. “Literally, as though they did not care.”

Kara looked surprised, but Jeremiah spoke next.

“Querl’s right. You need to keep your guard up, because Cadmus does have a weapon.”

“What is it?”

“A nuclear fusion bomb.” Said Jeremiah, hesitating before the third word.

The others exchanged worried looks, before he continued.

“They’re gonna destroy National City.” He said. “And blame it on hostile aliens.”

“How did Cadmus get their hands on it?” asked Kara.

“No, they didn’t steal it. They built it.” Jeremiah answered. “Using the radiation they mined from your heat vision when you were in their custody.” Querl placed a hand on Kara’s shoulder, and J’onn and Alex quickly followed, as if to say: This is not your fault. You are not to blame for what they will try to do with this weapon. You do not need to burden yourself with guilt over their stealing your energy that you put to good use every day. You are still good.

“Oh my god.” Kara murmured.

~ “So, what you’re telling me is that Jeremiah Danvers, former DEO agent and Kara and Alex’s long-lost father, has returned from Cadmus custody with the news that our enemy has developed a nuclear fusion explosive using Kara’s otherworldly heat vision radiation, and that they’re going to drop that on National City and just kill us all?” Winn asked, facing the others while sitting in his chair and giving them the falsest smile that Querl had ever seen, although perhaps that was the point. He clapped his hands together. “Ha!”

But he quickly grew more serious, realizing what he’d just summarized.

“Is- is this- is this place bombproof?”

J’onn looked at him as though he were a disappointed father, reacting to his son asking him if he could play football indoors.

“You could run a trace on Kara’s heat vision radiation signature.” Jeremiah pointed out.

“Yeah! Right! Well, if the bomb was armed, then yes I might be able to pinpoint its location before it goes off.”

“Good. Get to work, Winn.” J’onn said.

“Jeremiah!”

His face lit up, as Eliza Danvers made her entrance, and Alex looked back at Kara with an expression Querl couldn’t place as Jeremiah said “Eliza!” and rushed over to her, and the two embraced one another.

“Oh, my God, did I miss you.” Jeremiah said.

Kara was audibly excited, watching their reunion, but Alex was more hesitant- although she was just as happy as her sister.

“Kara, may I speak with you?” Querl asked.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

They walked over into a side corridor, as Querl explained himself.

“Kara, I am just as happy as you are to see your father back.” He said. “However, I was there when we were in captivity together, and I watched you solar-flare… and it did not look like they were trying to capture your heat vision. Rather, it looked more like they wanted you to expend your energy, so they could cause you more pain.”

“Brainy…” she started. But as many excuses as she had- you don’t know how that works, this is a twenty-first century device so you don’t understand it as well as stuff you have in the future, maybe I just want to enjoy my adoptive father being back for a little while before we start accusing him of anything- she had to admit to herself that Querl was a scientist, he did know what he was talking about… and perhaps he was even familiar with similar devices himself. “Querl. I understand your concerns. But for right now, I’m trusting Jeremiah. He’s always protected me at great cost, and he protected you too. Maybe give him the benefit of the doubt?”

“He lived with your enemy for years. They forced him to keep Henshaw alive, what makes you think that they’re not forcing Jeremiah to do something at this moment?”

Kara squeezed his hand, maybe a little more forcefully than she would’ve.

“I know you’re just trying to look out for us.” She said.

And maybe, as a Brainiac, you expect deceit from those around you.

“For me.” She continued. “But he needs us right now. Please.”

Querl sighed, filing away the scans he’d made and the rest of his evidence. If trust in Jeremiah based on lived experience with knowing his character was good enough for Kara… it could, with time, be good enough for him.

It had been good enough for Superman, when Querl was the one to be suspicious of. Surely he could return the favor with Kara’s father.

“Okay.” He said. “Alright.”

Kara smiled, and hugged him.

“Thank you.” She said. “We’re having a family dinner to celebrate his return. You’re welcome to get to know him, spend time with him, and you’ll see that there’s nothing to be afraid of. At all. Jeremiah’s return isn’t an accidental gift, it’s just a gift, and we should be happy about it.”

Querl nodded.

I am. For now, at least.

~ Kara opened the door to Querl, holding two beverages in his hands.

“This one is for myself.” He said, indicating one of them. “And this is for the rest of you.”

He gave that one to Kara, who smiled at him, the tension between them over Jeremiah’s return now lessened- especially evidenced by the kiss Kara gave him when she closed the door.

“Was I supposed to wear a tie?” he asked.

“No.” Kara said, as he moved on to see Jeremiah, now looking decidedly healthier, as well as Eliza.

“Doctor Danvers! And Doctor Danvers.” He said, indicating both of them.

“Eliza, Jeremiah, this is… my boyfriend, Querl.” Kara said. “We just really started dating, but… we’re really happy together.”

“Good to hear.” Eliza said, as Jeremiah looked up from slicing limes in half to smile at them. “He’s such a sweet boy.”

Querl nodded, still somewhat getting used to Kara’s usage of that word (as neither of them had used such terms as boyfriend and girlfriend to apply to each other yet- but he was nonetheless happy beyond words to hear her use it, even though there were quite a few others over the years who’d also done so when in relationships with him), as Kara walked with him towards the couches, where Alex and Maggie were sitting.

~ J’onn entered just as Jeremiah was starting to pour drinks for everyone, and Jeremiah wasted no time in giving him a hug, thanking him for saving his life again and for keeping his promise to watch over Kara and Alex.

“It was an honor.” J’onn said, and Kara raised her glass.

“A toast. To coming home.” She said, and the rest echoed it, clinking their glasses against one another’s, before drinking.

“Now obviously, this is going to be a time of adjustment.” Jeremiah said. “But I hope you’ll all be patient with me. I’ve seen and done things I wish I hadn’t…”

Kara gave Querl a look that she hoped everyone else didn’t catch before turning her attention back on Jeremiah.

“Dad.” Alex said, eyes shining with empathy for him. “Don’t.”

“Sweetie, if I’m gonna move forward, I can’t ignore my past.” He said, as Eliza began to gently rub his back. “Cadmus… changed me, they tried to break me, and in the process they made me dangerous. I know their weaknesses, and I’m here to work with all of you to make our planet safer.”

That’s just what he wants you to think.

But I’m trusting Kara. And if she’s taking his words at face value, then I should, too.

So he hushed his doubts, and took a sip of his drink- which, he had to commend the Danvers parents for, was excellently prepared.

“So, if you’ll have me, Director, I would like to return to the DEO.” Jeremiah said, turning to J’onn. “Formally.”

“J’onn?” Kara said. “Can he?”

“Pending a full psych evaluation, and a field readiness exam, I’ll give you the tour tomorrow.” J’onn said, just as happy to have his friend back.

“Thank you, friend.” Jeremiah answered, placing a hand on his arm.

“Maybe you should say something nice to him.” Kara whispered to Querl.

“I’m glad you’re returning, sir.” Querl said. “I… understand the plight you’ve been through, and I offer my condolences, and my sympathies.”

“Thank you.” Jeremiah answered, as Querl could see he wasn’t sure how to respond.

“It is fortunate, that you returned when you did, to help us with stopping this new weapon you’ve given us knowledge of.”

“You mean when he was rescued.” Alex said, insistently.

“Right. That.” He answered. “It’s a gift. Truly.”

“Querl?” Kara said, pulling him aside after he quieted himself again. “What would you do, if your father walked through that door?”

“I… don’t know.” Querl said. “I never met him.”

But he must have been someone my mother deemed worthy of having intercourse with. So at the very least, based on that point I would not welcome him with open arms.

“Suppose you had. Suppose he’d raised you, and you trusted him, but he disappeared from your life at a young age, but now after so many years, he just came back in and wanted to be your father again. Would you deny him that?”

“I would have to know he were telling the truth.”

“Okay. Well, in this case, we have reason to believe that Jeremiah is, and if this were your father- even though I don’t know a thing about him- I think I’d feel the same that you are about this situation.” Kara answered. “So, would you like to come back to dinner, or not?”

Querl considered leaving, to make certain he didn’t say something that would cause Jeremiah discomfort. But then again, Kara wanted him to be hopeful about this. She trusted him to be private about their dating situation, and he’d kept that privacy. He would honor her request once again now, despite anything about this that was still bothering him.

“I am sorry.” He said. “I would love to.”

Kara smiled, and they went to sit down, the mood considerably lighter. ~ “Hey.” Winn said, sitting down next to Querl at the bar.

“For you.” Querl answered, passing him a drink. “Perfect timing, thanks for coming.”

They clinked their drinks together, before starting in on them.

“Always happy to grab a drink, but you do realize that we’re, like, kinda in an all-hands-on-deck situation right now, trying to track down that fusion… b-o-m-b?”

“Very discreet.” Querl noted.

“Uh, speaking of. What’s so top-secret that you can’t talk to me about it at the DEO, yeah?”

“It’s… Jeremiah’s return.” He said. “I am trying my best to be hopeful about this situation, for Kara. But...”

“I get it, man. You’re worried about her and Alex. And trust me, if it were my mom, I’d have my doubts too.” Winn answered.

“Right.” Querl said, noting to ask Winn more about his own family at a later time. “My point is, what if Cadmus allowed us to rescue Jeremiah so he could sabotage us? Just when this doomsday bomb is about to be detonated? Just consider it.”

Winn sighed.

“You really think so?”

“I would not lie to you. We have never been this lucky- not to mention that the DEO has not been able to locate Jeremiah for 11 years, but now he just resurfaces?”

“So you think Jeremiah is…”

Querl could think of countless ways to finish that sentence, but he opted for saying, “He is just… someone we need to be cautious around. At least until we know exactly what he’s been doing for those past eleven years.”

Winn sat back, taking a long sip of his drink.

“Well, far be it from me to argue with a Brainiac.” He said. “I mean, if you think he’s suspicious, I’ll help you.”

“Thank you.” Querl answered, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a true friend, Winn.”

“Pfft. I know.”

“You realize now that you owe me a favor in return?”

“Of course. Anything.”

Winn’s face grew somber as he answered, “I know how much you like Kara. I mean, even for someone who isn’t a twelfth-level intellect, it’s pretty obvious.”

Querl sighed.

“Yes- you are correct.” He said. “What is your favor?”

“Just be good to her.”

“I would rather die than do otherwise.”

Winn gave him a sad smile, squeezing his shoulder, and he looked like he was going to say something else. But James entered, then, getting an update from Winn on when they would go on their next patrol, information Winn gave to him easily. And when he’d gotten that information, Winn kissed James, lingering for a little bit before pulling away.

Querl didn’t comment, only happy for the two of them, just as he had been for Alex and Maggie.

James left, while Querl watched Winn’s soft, love-struck eyes follow him out.

“And you be good to him.” Querl said, as Winn nodded and they clinked their drinks again.

~

“Winn? Brainy, you wanted to see me?”

Kara closed the door behind her, knowing what she was in for.

“Yes. Winn found something, and we only thought you should know about it- presenting this objectively, for you to take or leave as you wish.” Querl answered.

“Okay. What is it?” Kara asked, letting herself trust her boyfriend- just as she’d asked him to trust her- and her best friend, even though she still hoped that Jeremiah wasn’t in the wrong.

“So, earlier today, J’onn was giving Jeremiah a tour of the facility, right?” Winn started. “But when J’onn stepped away, I saw Jeremiah trying to break into the DEO mainframe.”

“Are you sure?” Kara asked. “Wait, were you spying on Jeremiah?”

“I was in the right place at the right time.” Winn said.

“Well, do you know he was breaking in? J’onn could’ve given him access- you don’t know what he was doing, or what he was looking up.”

“I can access that- link to the computer, find what he was searching for.” Querl pointed out.

“Alright.” Kara said. “Do it.”

Jeremiah is spying on us, Winn thought. Probably. We might as well return the favor.

~ “Hey, Jeremiah, can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure, what’s up?” he asked, as Kara walked back into the command center, Querl and Winn behind her.

“Is everything okay?” Alex said.

“Earlier today, you accessed highly classified files from the DEO mainframe.” Kara said, turning to Jeremiah.

“That’s true, I did.”

“Why?”

“I tried to use my old passkey to look at some casefiles.” He said, even though Querl had looked at those casefiles himself once he’d gotten a DEO identification, and the information didn’t match up. All the while, Jeremiah’s left arm was positioned as though he was wearing a cast on it, and although that wasn’t entirely relevant to the situation at hand, Querl could tell that said arm was cybernetic below the surface. “But the access codes have changed, so I did a workaround to get inside.”

“What were you looking at?”

“Casefiles. From the last 16 months.” Jeremiah said. “I wanted to see what my daughters had been up to. Crises that you faced, people that you saved, adventures you’d been on… I’ve been away, so long, case histories were just a way for me to feel like I was there, a little. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.” Kara said. “Brainy?”

“He is… telling the truth.” Querl answered. “I do not see any record otherwise.”

“Alright. Back to work.” J’onn said. “That includes you, Agent Danvers- Jeremiah, and Alex.”

Alex nodded, in satisfaction, leading her father away before the rest of the group dispersed as well.

~

Querl found Winn at the alien bar again, while Winn was in the middle of a darts game with James.

“Hey, Brainy.” James said, before Winn went to talk to Brainy alone.

“That was impressive.” Querl noted, gesturing to Winn’s dart- not near the center of the board, but still on it nonetheless, which was still good especially if he was drunk.

“Yeah, last time I tried to play darts, I stabbed fish-head dude over there.” Winn said, lowering his voice. “I think his name is Brian? He was nice about it, but I think he might still have a grudge on me.”

“Doesn’t seem like him.” Querl answered. “The grudge-holding, that is. But I meant that I’m happy for you two.”

“And I hope I’ll be happy for you and Kara, once we get this Jeremiah thing sorted out.” Winn said. “It’s just…”

“The situation is complicated. And it is truly for Kara and Alex to sort out for themselves, is it not?”

“Like with everything, you’re right.” Winn said. “And maybe we could both listen to them.”

Winn’s phone pinged, then, and he pulled it out, looking at the notification.

“Well, apparently at least I did something right.” He continued, stabbing a dart into the board for emphasis. “Because I tracked Supergirl’s radiation signature. Cadmus is moving the fusion bomb.”

~

Querl, Alex, and Kara, suited up and prepared to face Cadmus, were in the building where the fusion bomb was supposed to be located… but they saw nothing. No bomb, no Cadmus agents…

“J’onn, please advise, there’s no sign of target.” Alex said. “I repeat, there’s no sign of target, there’s nothing here.”

“What’s going on?” J’onn asked, voice low. “Why can’t I read your mind?”

He’s addressing Jeremiah, Querl thought.

“Dad?” Alex asked, but there was no response.

“We have to get back. Now.” Kara said, and Alex and Querl agreed.

“Let’s move!” Alex ordered, as the others followed her.

~ When they finally got back, it was to the sight of J’onn healing from his injuries- what they were was anyone’s guess- and no Jeremiah. Winn was sitting at J’onn’s bedside, keeping watch over him, as someone was tending to his injuries too.

“Is he okay?” Alex asked, briefly placing her hand on Winn’s shoulder as she passed him.

“Yeah, he will be.” Winn said. “Look, Jeremiah got the jump on him.”

“He couldn’t have.” Alex insisted, still protective of her father. “Okay, look, even if my dad has turned, there’s no way that he could’ve overpowered J’onn.”

“Yeah, that’s what I would have thought.” J’onn said.

Kara sighed with relief, happy to hear him speak.

“Oh, thank Rao you’re okay.” She said.

“Jeremiah’s arm- the one we thought had nerve damage- it’s been enhanced. Cybernetically.”

“I’m aware.” Querl answered. “He is like the other Hank Henshaw- a Cyborg-Superman, an empowered human in service of Cadmus’s ideals.”

“Jeremiah isn’t who he was.” J’onn continued, turning to Alex. “I’m sorry.”

“Not as sorry as Cadmus is going to be.” Alex said.

“We’ll find him.” Kara answered, backing up her sister once more. “Brainy? Winn?”

“Yes. We can track him.”

~

Afterwards, Querl knocked on Kara’s apartment door.

“It’s unlocked.” She called, sounding disheartened.

He entered, setting the pizza and potstickers he’d picked up on the way onto Kara’s kitchen table.

“You’re not alright.”

“No.” Kara confirmed.

“I apologize.” Querl said, walking over to her. “I… am aware that I was right… but that is insensitive. What I mean to say is that I did not want to be right. I hoped, just as you did, that Jeremiah was not a true agent of Cadmus.”

“I know.”

“And… I am here.” He continued. “Tell me what you need. Anything, and I will listen.”

Kara sat up, dislodging the blue blanket she'd covered herself in.

“Just be here with me.” She answered, and wrapped the blanket around both of them as she let herself be held in his arms, and he hoped he was doing his best to soothe her.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked, as she wrapped her arms around him as well.

“Will you wake up with me?” Kara asked in a small voice.

“I’d love to.” He said as he kissed her forehead, and she gently stroked his face in appreciation of that promise.

Kara’s phone rang, then, and she sat up completely, answering it.

“Winn. Did you figure out what Jeremiah stole from the DEO computers?”

“Brainy and I both did, and it’s not good, Kara.” Winn answered. Kara could hear him breathing heavily. “He took the national alien registry.”

“Okay. I’m coming in.” Kara said, hanging up.

“Cadmus has a list of all the aliens in the country.” Querl said.

“And we’re getting up.”

Kara did just that, with Querl right behind her.

I would go with you anywhere, for any purpose. Especially for something as important as this.

[violetsmoak]

Pieces of April [7/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530

Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who, not either of our boys!), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro.

Author’s Note: In which Jason is this close to being DONE. And Tim’s a little shit.

First Chapter

________________________________________________________________

Jason is silent a while, obviously conflicted.

Tim and Safiya watch him get up and stand by the window of the room; his fingers twitch, then curl into fists of what Tim imagines to be frustration.

Safiya doesn’t miss the motion, and her expression grows concerned. She takes a longer look at Jason, studying him in greater depth, from the visible callouses on his knuckles to the scars at the corner of his mouth and beneath his hairline.

“You’re not…” she begins, and Jason turns to acknowledge her. “You’re not actually a mobster, are you?”

To Tim’s surprise, Jason’s mouth twitches.

“Not this year,” he says with a hint of humor.

Safiya is clearly confused, and Tim fights down a mental groan at Jason’s usually flippant attitude choosing to manifest in the most inopportune moments.

Good thing we’re all such good liars.

“Jason’s a former stuntman,” he tells her, once again grasping for the first plausible thing that comes to mind. He makes a mental note to add that to whatever false background they’ll inevitably have to create. “But he’s been working with our family for years.”

Jason smiles now, but it’s an unpleasant and edged thing. “That’s one way to put it.”

Tim ignores him, instead slips into his charming-CEO persona.

“As you can imagine, we deal with a lot of threats given the Wayne Foundation’s public funding of Batman Inc. Sometimes we require body-doubles when traveling, and Jason happens to be of similar height and weight to Bruce.”

“Right,” Jason says robotically. “Bodyguard to Bruce Wayne. It’s an experience. Guy has as many enemies as Batman does. It’s uncanny.”

Tim shoots him a dirty look, which luckily Safiya misses as she sizes Jason up again. When she turns back to Tim, she furrows her brow. “Is that not weird for you?”

“Weird?”

“With you two being together,” she clarifies. “And with him looking so much like your father.”

Jason makes a huffing noise; Tim sort of hopes he’s choking.

At some point, I’m going to have to look into why people so easily buy the story of us being ‘together’.

“Bruce isn’t my father,” Tim says with a bit of a grimace. “Neither biologically, nor legally as of last year.”

“I see,” Safiya says slowly, not looking like she entirely buys it. “Didn’t I read an article about you being engaged? To a woman?”

Tim sighs. “Vicki Vale has a lot to answer for. As I’ve said numerous times, Tam Fox is my assistant and my friend. We were never engaged—is there a reason we’re analyzing my personal life right now?”

“Why not? We’ve been analyzin' mine all night,” Jason says. “I think I like it better when it’s you, babybird.” The nickname is said with an inflection that could be teasing or mocking depending on the context. “Besides, you’ve got all that practice.”

Well, if you want to play that game.

“A good thing, too, or I’d be the one with a surprise baby,” Tim replies and is partially gratified to see Jason’s brows draw together at the dig. His smile widens and he addresses Safiya, “Clearly we’ve all found ourselves in a situation we couldn’t have possibly foreseen, so the best thing we can do is put our heads together and come up with a solution. But I think we’ve had enough to process this evening and rushing such an important decision would be unwise.”

“That might be the first sensible thing I’ve heard since I got here,” she agrees. “First of all, I want to make sure Luísa has somewhere to stay until that is sorted out. Will you be taking her home tonight?”

“No,” Jason says.

“The hospital still has to get the results of the paternity test before any custody or guardianship decisions can be discussed,” Tim elaborates. “That should be a day or two. I think the most pressing concern right now is what to do about Isabel.”

Safiya becomes somber once again. “Yes. She should not be left here longer than needed. I have a key to her apartment. I can look around and see if she had any kind of arrangements or wishes. If she did, she never mentioned them, but it’s possible.”

“That would be helpful,” Tim agrees. “Let me know if you find anything.” He digs into his pocket for a business card and a pen, scribbling his personal phone number on it. “You can reach me here. Whether you find anything helpful or not, call me. We’ll have to arrange transportation for her remains. The hospital will only hold her a week. And we’ll need to notify her doctor if she had one, and call the country coroner.”

“You’re a little bit too informed about how to do this for someone so young…”

“I lost both my parents before I was sixteen. It’s become an unfortunate routine.”

“I’m sorry,” she offers quietly.

“Thank you,” Tim acknowledges. “I understand that you might want to notify her other friends, ask them to contact others to get the word out, but would it be possible to keep this to yourself until we have a better idea of what to do for Luisa?”

“Of course. I’ll also call her work and let them know the news.”

“Also, if you could see to all the relevant paperwork for Isabel, that would be extremely helpful,” Tim continues. “As I said before, you probably have more of an idea of these things than we do.” Or at least more than we should. “As for outstanding balances, I’ll cover them—”

“No, I’ll do that,” Jason interrupts. “It should come from me.”

“It should,” Safiya agrees with a sharp nod. Probably she means it for different reasons; Tim suspects Jason just wants the least amount of Wayne money as possible involved in this. “I would also…if possible, I would like to say goodbye to her.”

“By all means,” Tim says. “If you want to do that now, I’ll let the doctor know—”

“I doubt I’ll have any trouble this time around,” she says, waving him away. “Besides, I think you have your hands full with these two.” She stands, then goes to lean over the baby once more, gently caressing her head. She says something Tim doesn’t understand, and then straightens up. She nods at Jason and Tim. “I will be in touch.”

And then she’s gone.

As soon as they’re alone, Tim rounds on Jason.

“Is there a reason you’re treating all of this as a joke?”

“Are we sure it’s not?” Jason asks with a grin that doesn’t dispel the coolness of his eyes. “I’m still waitin' for someone to jump out and yell ‘April Fools’.”

“You’re about a month late for that. And considering the fact you’re legally dead, you could be a little less cavalier with the attention-grabbing non-sequiturs.”

“What, like you? Treatin' this whole thing like it’s a business meeting? This is a person we’re talkin' about—two people.” His gaze flicks nervously to the infant. “And you’re actin' like they’re pieces on a board.”

“Because right now, they are,” Tim snaps. “And because someone has to be getting ahead of this thing. Surprise is no excuse to not have contingency plans.”

“Jesus Christ, but he did a number on you,” Jason groans. “You sound exactly like him.”

“Contrary to popular belief, that’s not always a bad thing. Or would you rather I be channeling Dick right now?”

Jason's entire body goes even tauter than it's been since Safiya burst in. "I swear to god if you hug me right now, I will punch you.”

Tim finds himself wondering if that might not be a good idea; a fight might be better for Jason than a shot of adrenaline.

Or it will land me in a different wing of this hospital. So maybe not.

He’s saved from replying when there’s a knock on the door, and the nurse comes in.

“Visiting hours will be over at nine o’clock,” she says. “If one of you wants to stay the night, I can arrange—”

“We’re not stayin',” Jason says immediately. Noticing her taken-aback expression, he adds, “There’s a bunch of stuff that needs doin'. For the, uh, baby.”

“Of course. Would you like to feed her one last time yourselves? Or we can take care of her in the nursery.”

Tim can see it on Jason’s face that he’s not keen on the exercise. Still, that same business-like set to his shoulders from earlier returns and he allows the nurse to go fetch a bottle of formula.

“Might as well know how to do this myself,” he mutters, almost defensive when he meets Tim’s gaze, and hesitantly picks up the infant on his own.

“I didn’t say anything.”

The entire tableau is so incongruous with what Tim knows of the other man that he’s half-tempted to bring his phone up and snap a few secret shots, if only as evidence. Somehow, he suspects Jason wouldn’t take kindly to it, and whatever goodwill he’s gained tonight will vanish faster than Batman after a meeting with Commissioner Gordon.

“We should go back to my place,” Tim suggests after a while. When Jason tilts his head in question, he adds, “To get the room ready. For when she’s cleared to go.”

“Right.”

“Do you want to pick up anything from where you’re staying? Or I can just order something for you online and have it shipped—”

“I can buy my own damn clothes if I need to,” Jason grouses. “I don’t need help packin’ a bag.”

“Fair. But I’m still driving you.” Jason makes a face. “Don’t give me that look. Are you seriously thinking you’re clear-headed enough to drive right now?”

“I’ve had worse. Besides, I can get a cab or take the subways.”

“You have no cash on you,” Tim reminds him. “And you’re still processing. I bet you’ll get stuck in your head and miss your stop.” He gestures out the window toward the parking lot. “Just tell me where you want to go and I’ll take you there.”

“The problem with that is you’ll know where I live.”

“It’s funny you think I don’t already.”

Jason scowls. “At some point, we’re having a conversation about you knowin' stuff about me that you shouldn’t. It’s creepy.”

“Sure. I’ll put it on the agenda under ‘stealing other people’s costumed identities’ and ‘using deadly force’. Should be fun.”

"You're kind of an asshole, aren't you?"

"I'm the asshole who's helping you out, so I'd watch your mouth." Tim pauses, considers, and then adds, "Actually, you should do that anyway. You're holding a baby."

"I hate you."

Next Chapter

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