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daisyblog · 8 months ago

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Zane Lowe

Our Story Masterlist Summary: YN is mentioned in Harry’s interview with Zane Lowe.

Based on this request.

“Nice nails” Zane compliments Harry who’s sitting in the seat opposite.

“Thanks” Harry politely replies as he glances down at his turquoise nails sitting on his lap. “Thanks for having me”.

After discussing Pleasing and he loved the idea of It, Zane asked “What made you want to do that?”.

“I think for me like…a big part of it is…like I really like making stuff and I really like..kind of coming up with ideas and collaborating with other…especially YN who again is very creative…I feel like I’m really lucky with people around me both personally and professionally that I get to work with are really fun to work with and…you know working’s like my favourite thing to do so..based on the fact that I think obviously it begins as a hobby so then like getting to make stuff for work I feel like is a real gift. I think if I didn’t think about it too much I would be making music and putting out music constantly…but I’m also aware that I’m a total control freak and I want everything to be perfect..so the idea of like oh I made these four songs I’m just going to put out an EP…It’s just not how I think of it”.

---

“You're faced with a time when you can’t do that…and the great leveller of like it doesn’t matter how much money you have, doesn’t matter where you live, doesn’t matter this doesn’t matter that…you can’t travel you can’t do this, you can’t go outside your house..It’s like suddenly you’re forced to not be this musician guy, you’re forced to be like a boyfriend, brother and a son…and all of those things..and actually I feel like I..you know kind of had a little bit of a chance to focus on that at least for a moment..umm and just stop and kind of take in a lot of stuff and…remember things, you’re kind of gifted this stolen time” Harry explained his view on the world pandemic.

“You mentioned being all these roles…you mentioned being a boyfriend, what was it like during these times?” Zane quizzed. “Because I imagine you got a taste of what it’s like being a “normal” couple”.

Twisting and playing with his rings on his fingers, Harry explains “Umm…YN has always been my comfort you know and I’d like to think I’m hers too…she’s been a big part of my life and…we’ve been through so much tougher…that it was kind of nice to just stop and take that in.” Zane nodded, an indication for Harry to continue “So when the pandemic hit..we isolated in LA for a while..I saw it as a time for us to be just us…but YN did find it hard because she has such a big family…and umm she just wanted to be closer to them…especially her grandparents and siblings”.

“Yeah I can imagine that being hard..being so far away” Zane sympathised “I don’t mean to pry into your personal life but what do you mean by time for just you two?”

“Like..we’ve never known anything other than travelling..or just being surrounded by other people and just having to plan everything in so much detail..to like not be seen you know…so we kind of got to see what a normal like would be like, whatever a normal life is..if that makes sense?”.

“Yeah it makes total sense”. Zane agreed and could see that Harry craved a little normality in his personal life.

“I suppose..I’m just like really lucky..because YN just gets it. She got put into the limelight the same as us..you know..so yeah she just gets it and I’m just so lucky” Harry continued with a slight giggle as he repeated how lucky he was. “I think what I’m trying to say is…I hit gold when it came to YN…she really is my best friend too and yeah…it was nice to be just a couple without the added pressures.”.

---

“We have to acknowledge this because..you know we at one point we were going to this in the United Kingdom”. Harry nodded in agreement “But there’s something wonderful about being in this afterglow of Palm Springs..which is I'm sure is how you feel a little bit after these two amazing headline shows…you seem so chilled you know” Zane laughed but continue “There must have been a relief that you did it?”.

“I just..you know I knew I was going to put something out…whether it’s a show or an album or a song I want it to be perfect..and umm…I think like that’s why I take so much stress on I think around something like Coachella..cause I feel like I want it to be good..like if it’s not going to be good I’d rather not do it..so you know in that kind of setting, no matter what it is kind of…you know the dust or the wind or however many things, it's like so many things can go wrong in that situation..and it's not your show and it's my first festival so…you know I’m kind of going out to the crowd and I like knowing what I’m stepping out to” Harry rambled with a nervous chuckle at the end.

Harry continued “and that was really terrifying”.

“What was your instinct when they asked you to do it?” Zane interrupted.

“That’s too scary and I’m gonna say no” Harry laughed “But..uh YN was like you need to say yes and was just so encouraging and supportive..you know…plus she’s like my biggest fan so of course she wanted me to do it!”.

“So..would you say YN helps with the nerves?” Zane asked curiously.

“I was so nervous..like so nervous..and I remember YN being on facetime to Louis before the show..and them both saying just to be myself and to enjoy…and when I was out there I just focused on being me and nothing else”. Harry spoke freely. “Their advice definitely helped…’cause I had the best time!”.

“Late Night Talking?” Zane stated.

Harry let out a shy chuckle “Uhh…yeah” Harry leans his head on his hand to try and hide is cheeky smile “It’s about YN…well I don’t think it’s a shock to anyone”.

“So…would you say the whole album is about YN?” Zane asked confidently.

“Uhh..most of it..yeah pretty much” Harry smiled “She’s just been a constant in my life..since like we were what..sixteen or seventeen..you know..she’s my life..and I don’t have to pretend to be anyone other than myself around her you know…it’s just easy and I love that about our relationship.” Harry explained.

---

“Matilda really shows emotional intelligence and how you were thinking about someone at that time.”. Zane begins to talk about the middle song on Harry’s album.

“Uh…yeah…I actually didn’t write Matilda”. Harry revealed, causing Zane to looked shocked. “YN had this conversation with someone…and she was getting to know them…and they opened up to her and she was like that’s not normal…so she was almost like writing down what she wanted to say to them…and I was like how many people could relate to this you know…and we agreed that it would make a beautiful song for those who needed to hear it”.

“Waw! It holds a real powerful message and I think even if people don’t feel those things…I think it definitely makes them feel something.”. Zane spoke with passion in his voice.

“It definitely does….and it was just about saying I was listening….that was YN’s purpose to it”.

---

“Boyfriends” Zane began “It is a great song..It’s from a male perspective, it’s a very knowing song..and It’s a very self-aware song..you have to have some self-awareness to write from that perspective surely”.

Harry answered immediately “Yeah for sure…Boyfriends was written right at the end of Fine Line” Harry explained “Boyfriends is about like…we’re all flawed you know..and I think pretending like we’re not, I just don’t get it..It’s acknowledging my own behaviour, it’s looking at the behaviour I’ve witnessed..I grew up with a sister so it’s like watching her date people and watching friends…but at the same time admitting I’ve not been a perfect boyfriend either”.

---

“Love of My Life..I’d always wanted to write a song about like home and loving England…and all of that kind of stuff..and it’s kind of hard to do that you know”

“So Love of Love My Life is about home and England?” Zane asked with a slight smirk on his face.

“As I started making them album…I realised it wasn’t about the kind of geographical location…it was more of an internal thing” Harry tried to hide his bashful smile by rubbing his finger under his nose.

“Do I see Harry Styles blushing?” Zane began to tease Harry.

Harry lets out a loud chuckle and tries to hide his face in his hands “You know..I’ll admit that I blush sometimes…especially when it comes to YN!”.

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missnancychavez · 3 months ago

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So I am on my third rewatch of Twisters. So here are some of my own personal headcanons and theories for the movie and some parallels that may add weight to those theories.

1. The original 5 friend group dynamic: Jeb and Praveen have known each other for years and are each others best friend. Javi and Kate are the dynamic duo (basing it on the fact that they were the only ones to do the handshake together). And Addy is everyone's little sister. Her and Kate were extremely close, but in a different way than her friendship with Javi.

2. Tyler Owens is the nephew of Bill and Jo on Bill's side (As we knew Jo didn't have any sibling). He spent his summers with them as a kid, and then as a teenager, he moved in with them full time. He started chasing with them around then, too. He even pays homage to that as he is driving a newer model of Bill's red dodge ram.

3. Boone and Lily have something going on. The way Boone screams her name as she gets picked up by the wind. And their personalities are perfect together. You can't convince me otherwise.

4. Kate and Tyler kiss in the truck after the chase they go on straight from the airport at the end of the movie. (Refer to point 8)

5. Kate puts in her resignation almost immediately, and Javi cuts ties with Riggs and Scott. The wranglers and Kate join StormPAR. Kate and Tyler spend the off-season working with Javi while the others do their own gigs, but during the storm season, they are all chasing and gathering data.

6. Cathy is so encouraging of her daughter because she's been through loss before. They called her Mrs. Carter, meaning she was married. Kate's dad died when Kate was a little girl. Cathy had to learn how to navigate being a young mom and tending a farm on her own. But she also knows that it could stop her from living her life. So she didn't. She grieved, and she learned to live with the grief and still do what she loves. It's why she is so encouraging of Kate getting back out there.

7. Kate stayed in OK for another couple of weeks after the tornado (neither her nor Tyler appeared injured in the final scene, and the truck looks great, all things considered, so clearly they had time tp heal and fix the truck.) They all were forcibly invited back to the farm by Cathy after Tyler and the wranglers went to drop Kate off post El Reno. Cathy took one look at Tyler and forced him in the house. Kate gave herself a headache from laughing so hard. She was then sent inside alongside him. Cathy made everyone stay for as long as they needed. But she did, however, get some free labour from it. It was an unspoken agreement that Kate's was now home base.

8. By the credit scenes, Kate and Tyler are together. Their first kiss was immediately after the two of them went chasing from the airport. Something about their adrenaline rushing, and it being just the two of them. It was electric. It was immediate. It just happened, and when they pulled back, they both started laughing. It reminded him of the first time they chased together, just the two of them. Kate delayed her flight for another two days. She was back home within the month. Tyler quickly realised he would have to start bribing Boone afterwards on the days he and Kate went out.

9. Kate and Boone will play card games at night to see who gets shotgun the next day, when Boone isn't riding with Lily, of course. Turns out, Kate's damn good at playing poker. On the rare occasion that Kate drives, Boone automatically hops in the back of the truck. He won't tell anyone, but he loves it when she drives. She gets this manic energy about her in the drivers seat and his adrenaline always ends up pumping. Tyler loves it, too, but he has no qualms verbalizing his affections toward her.

10. Tyler has nightmares now. Of watching Kate drive into the tornado. Of finding her body, discarded and broken by his truck. Of her slipping through his fingers during a storm. He wakes up sweating and panicking. And it's only when he sees her that he can calm himself down. The two of them, those first two weeks after El Reno, would spend hours each night, sitting in the barn, going over formulas. Or sitting outside on the tree swing, talking until they were both too exhausted to have any nightmares. When she left to go back to New York, she wasn't particularly surprised when one night she awoke to her phone ringing, Tyler close to having a full blown panic attack as he tried and failed to reassure himself that she was okay without her help. They would always call each other before bed after that, usually falling asleep over facetime.

#tyler owens x kate carter #twisters #twister 2024 #javi rivera #addy twisters #praveen twisters #jeb twisters #dani twisters #dexter twisters #tyler owens #cathy carter #kate carter

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pearlywritings · 9 months ago

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"Bring your kid to work" day

synopsis: but sometimes it's very much unplanned.

pairing and characters: Zhongli x fem!reader, Xiao. Your family name is Rex-Lapis. Childe plays part in it too.

tw: modern AU, University AU, established relationship, fluff

word count: 2.8k+ words

a/n: Also a part of my University modern AU with history professor Zhongli

The day started perfectly. Your older daughter was already at school with your permission to stay at her friend's house for a sleepover later, you had your day off, lounging in the living room with your son cuddling to you with his most favorite dragon shaped toy pressed between your bodies, listening to your husband walking around the bedroom, getting ready for the lectures at the University, being blessed with afternoon classes.

The day was perfect indeed. Until it absolutely isn't.

Sometimes you really want to kill your boss. It must be today that you are called to work to help with an emergency, that no one knows how to deal with except for you. And the fact that your boss does not consider any possibility of you having trouble with doing what's required, makes you fume harder.

"Li, I don't know what to do!" You cry in frustration, buttoning your shirt. "We can't find a babysitter in ten minutes! You have to go to work, I have to now too, we can't just ask Ganyu to cancel her plans, she's been waiting for this sleepover for weeks, and I can't take Xiao with me - by the sound of it I won't have a single moment to look after him."

It's been no longer than five minutes since you received that call, but you are already as stressed as after a week of non-stop work. Why must've the stars aligned this way!?

Your husband - bless his soul - is fully dressed and is holding your little son perched on his arm, supporting his back with a hand, watching your frantic movements with sympathy.

"I don't think I'll have many spare moments either, my love. Only breaks between lessons. Let me think," the man hums, leaning Xiao’s body more onto his shoulder and reaching for his phone with a free hand. The boy wraps arms around his neck, watching you brush your hair with a pout. The plan was to spend the whole day together with mama, watching cartoons, playing, maybe going for a walk or, ideally, taking a nap, finishing it all with making dinner and welcoming papa home. Now, it seems to him, all these plans are thrown out of the window.

However, Xiao was always a very perceptive and patient kid - he sensed somehow when the situation couldn’t be helped and him throwing a fit - not like he would - would only cause more trouble. That is why he is quietly waiting for what comes next.

And finally Zhongli finds a solution.

“I’m calling Ajax. He mostly spends time at the teacher’s lounge. As far as I know he really loves kids and has several younger siblings, he should be able to handle our son. And during breaks I’ll be taking over” “Oh,” as good as it all sounds, there is an instant hesitation in your mind. “‘Li, you sure you can ask him that? It’s a big deal after all…” “I know, dear, I know. That’s why I am calling him now in advance to make sure it’s alright,” your husband dials the number of his department’s secretary and puts the phone to the ear. “I don’t even mind paying him if he agrees.”

In reality you had nothing to worry about. The gingerhead was more than willing to watch your five-year old son. Maybe willing isn’t the right word even - the young man is excited.

Zhongli is lucky to arrive before the current class ends - the less attention is drawn, the better. He collected everything he could think of to occupy Xiao during his time at the lounge in a bag, which he passes to Ajax the moment his son and him are introduced. However while the secretary is wearing a wide and kind smile, the boy is glaring up at him from under the brown bangs, boring his strikingly golden eyes in the tall figure.

“Dad, I don’t like him,” the little boy pouts, hugging his plushie even tighter and throwing daggers at the gingerhead from behind the dragon’s mane.

“Ouch, little guy,” with a dramatic gasp, the young man clutches the shirt on his chest and presses the back of his hand to the forehead. “How will I live? Hated by Mr Rex-Lapis’ son…”

“Now, now, Xiao,” Zhongli gently pats his head, bending down to look into his eyes and finding displeasure there. “It’s only for today, baby. Me and mom are really sorry for not spending time with you today. I promise that soon I’ll be home for two whole weeks.”

To that the boy’s eyes widen.

“Two weeks… That’s fourteen days?”

“That’s right, sweety.”

“That’s a lot!” He jumps, elated by the news, no trace of dissatisfaction written over his cute smiling face.

“Haha, it is, dear.”

“Wow, Mr Rex-Lapis, your son is really smart!” The secretary stopped playing hurt, instead clapping his hands together in praise and nodding his head in approval. “How old is he?”

“He is five. Yes, he learns really fast.”

“No wonder, he has you and your wife as parents.”

The remaining 20 minutes before his first lecture Zhongli spends in attempts to make his son comfortable not only around Ajax, but also at the new place as well. All that time Xiao doesn’t let go of his ever-present companion - a toy dragon, which he is hugging close to his chest. He politely greets every professor that comes to the lounge, which makes the secretary’s jaw drop since he is the only one who’s been initially rejected and, Zhongli can swear, he saw his boy smirking in the toy’s fluffy mane.

Other professors can’t help but mention how much the son resembles the father, even making small talk with the boy, whom they’ve only heard about before or seen in the framed picture of your family on Zhongli’s desk. By how polite (sorry, Ajax) and shyly sweet he is Xiao quickly becomes everyone’s favorite, pockets currently full with all kinds of treats.

When it’s time to go, the man kisses Xiao’s forehead goodbye, promising to be back in an hour and a half for a break, and grabs the materials. Once he leaves alongside his colleagues, Xiao sighs and, ignoring his temporary caretaker, moves to the bag his dad left, starting to dig out all the candies to put them into its side pocket.

“Whatcha doin’, little guy?” The young man is at his side in two long strides, curiously watching the boy’s actions. Xiao gives him a side eye, before deeming the question plausible and turning back to his task.

“I don’t want them right now. I’ll bring them home and share with mom and dad.”

“I am sure they’ll like that,” Ajax hums, busying himself with the contents of the main section. “Oh, would you look at that! It seems that your dad packed some coloring books, toys and… oh, puzzles! You like puzzles?”

The boy quietly nods. Tiptoeing, he tries to see the two boxes his temporary caretaker is holding, and the young man immediately crouches down to let him look.

“This one is new,” Xiao finally points to the box in his left hand. Ocean blue eyes skim over the picture of a phoenix, drawn in a simple yet elegant style. Yes, that definitely looks like something Mr Rex-Lapis would’ve bought for his child’s entertainment.

“Alright, let's get you behind your dad's desk,” golden eyes sparkle and a glimpse of wonder appears on the boy’s face. Dad showed him his own space at the lounge; it's tidy and organized, with all the necessities sorted inside the drawers and some notes and pictures pinned to the corkboard on the wall to the left. He wants to see them closer!

His caretaker drags the chair back, but climbing on it Xiao performs himself. As Ajax is humming something while tearing off the tape on the puzzle box, the boy turns to look at the photos Mr Rex-Lapis has on display. It’s so funny, really - not so long ago this little fella’s father was an image of reserve to students, no one knew who his wife was or the fact he had two kids. The secretary remembers how just half a year ago he used to be among those only ones who knew of the professor’s secret (which, in reality, wasn’t a secret at all). Why hasn't he ever spilled any info to the students who adore him?

Well, what fun would’ve been in it?

“Is that your big sister?” Xiao quickly glances up, taking notice of how the tall (but not as tall as dad) man hovers over where he is sitting and points at one of the pictures. The boy looks at it again.

“...yes. It’s Ganyu.”

“I have a sister too,” the fond expression on that freckle-covered face and a seemingly lightened color of those ocean-blue eyes disarms the five-year old a little. He blinks, waiting for what more he can tell. “Not one actually. Oh, and I have brothers too. One is your age, by the way!”

“Doesn’t it get too… loud?” Small hands reach for the carton box, lifting the lid.

“It does, in a good way though. But when our two huskies join in on the fun… Let’s just say it’s a good thing we have our own house.”

“You have dogs? That’s so cool! I want to have a pet too,” Xiao unceremoniously empties the contents onto the table, yet carefully places the lid with the picture against the monitor of the computer. “Mom promised that when I get older, they’ll buy me a bird.”

“Oh? You love those?”

“Mhm… Maybe we’ll buy something as pretty as…” he pauses, looking at the fiery bird. Ajax quickly realizes the struggle.

“A fo-nuhks,” Xiao prompts.

“Yeah… A fee-niks.”

As the minutes tick by, the boy’s initial hostility seems to evaporate. He still doesn’t talk unnecessarily much, but he does talk to Ajax, so that's progress. He is quite quick to finish the puzzles, and his temporary caretaker makes sure to praise the child. They talk a bit more about their respective families, Xiao even introduces him to his dragon companion. And the gingerhead picks the small fox-shaped keychain his elder sister knitted for him to play toy pals.

For another half an hour it manages to entertain the boy, but as the end of the class is nearing, he grows more and more distracted, glancing either at the door or the clock hanging high on the wall. It’s not hard to guess he is missing his father and is anticipating his return, but both Zhongli and Ajax can do nothing to just speed the time.

What professor can do though, is excusing his class ten minutes earlier, quite happy they got to get through all the material he prepared for this lecture. Bidding the students goodbye, he locks the door of the auditorium with his suitcase inside and puts the key in the pocket of his fancy vest to come back in twenty minutes.

When Zhongli enters the teacher’s lounge, he finds the secretary showing his son something on his own laptop. However, once Xiao’s eyes spot his dad’s figure in the doorframe, the little guy is down from his chair and running all the way to the man.

“Dad!” Mr Rex-Lapis barely has time to close the door and scoot down to catch his son, who nearly bumps into his legs, threatening the man’s balance. Finally in his arms, with his own tiny ones tightly wrapped around strong neck, the carbon copy of Zhongli happily smiles and Ajax has to rub his eyes to make sure he is not hallucinating. Wow, this boy can smile like that (sorry, my guy, you are just not his favorite, though now tolerable at least).

“Hello, Xiao,” Zhongli plants an affectionate kiss on his son’s cheek. “I see you’ve missed me,” the words are answered with eager nods. “Did you have fun with Ajax?” At least some of it.

The gingerhead lifts his eyebrow when the boy looks back at him, holds the gaze of ocean blue eyes for a moment, and then turns to his father once more.

“I suppose.”

The older man has to clear his throat with a polite cough so as not to break into a smile at the image of the assistant's slack jaw.

“That’s good, my dear.”

“Are we coming home now?” His son wonders, fingers playing with the longer locks of dark brown. Unfortunately, the answer is a dejected sigh.

“I am afraid we are not yet, sweety. But mommy texted me recently that she’ll be able to come get you after my second lecture. And then I’ll have one more.”

At the promise of you soon arriving to take him home, Xiao’s just building pout quickly disappeared. It’s okay, he can wait for a little bit longer. And that fox-like man isn’t bad, his company is quite nice. He even showed him some pictures of his family - almost all of them are ginger. Oh, and he promised to download some simple games onto his dad’s computer so he could play. And he still has his coloring books back there and he believes he saw you packing a small book - there is plenty to entertain him with.

Only for all these thoughts and motivation to be shuttered when someone knocked on the door and a second later some student’s head pushed through the gap. None of the three people currently present in the room could’ve anticipated what a black hole is about to be opened.

“Good afternoon, is Mr Rex-La- Oh, professor, you are here! We were wondering if we could take the key to leave our bags inside? As always? Oh, hey kiddo- Wait, a kid???”

“Dad, who is it?”

“DAD!?”

Before anyone could do anything, loud gasps break their way into the lounge. It appeared that almost the whole group was standing in the hall and heard everything crystally clear. Of course students are curious. Of course, they know about professor Rex-Lapis’ kid - the news and that cute picture from an online lecture were still the talk of the whole faculty just a couple of months ago. Of course, they want to see those sweet cheeks for crying out loud!

Ajax is the one who has to get everyone who does not belong in the room out and calm them all down as more than a dozen youngsters beg and plead with Zhongli to bring his baby boy to the lecture. And the said baby boy doesn’t help the situation either, looking at his father with those striking eyes, silently asking to stay with him. “I’m gonna sit very-very quiet,” he even promises.

Is it really a surprise that Xiao ends up sitting at his dad’s desk with his coloring books while the man is reading a lecture? (Students almost crumbled when their tall, handsome, enigmatic history professor walked into the auditorium with his son’s tiny hand clasped in his? Look, he even had to bend his body a little to do so!)

And, as much as students want to gush all over their favorite professor’s small-sized carbon copy, they keep their best behavior, because the situation gives the “once in a century” vibes and they’d be damned to destroy the magic of the moment.

Well, maybe a little, because the smallest interactions between Zhongli and his son as the man lets his students finish writing down information from the current slide are mind-blowing. Groupchat-blowing too.

Even cuter the whole occurrence becomes when the boy stops drawing and lifts his head, curious of what his dad is speaking about. He turns slightly in order to see the presentation, golden eyes skimming over the pictures and words, though he does not understand most of it. But it’s alright though - he can listen to his father instead.

Zhongli is pleasantly surprised when no one can answer one of his revision questions and Xiao lifts his hand, giving him the answer he wanted (he misspells the word a little, sure, but he knew the right response nonetheless). Aaaand that’s probably when the students finally lose it.

By the time the lesson is over and Zhongli meets with you in the teacher’s lounge to pass your very happy and very proud son to you so you two could be on your merry way home, the man feels a little drained. Nothing that can’t be fixed by your tender cheek kiss and soft rubbing on his back, but he still exhales heavily and swears that when he comes home, you are in for a new story.

And by what Ajax had time to tell while you’ve been waiting, you're sure it’s going to be a hilarious one.

taglist: @meimeimeirin Cause I remember how you once said you'd love to see more of this AU

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #zhongli x fem!reader #zhongli #xiao #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact modern au

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ak319 · 2 months ago

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Dark Arthur Morgan x sis reader

(!!WARNINGS: Abuse, misogyny , possessiveness, restrictions.) +Arthur is in his 20's here

"And what about this question, ma'am?" you asked, leaning over Mrs. Anne, your teacher. She ran a small homeschool for girls and Montessori for kids with some of the little kids being your friends' siblings. It was such a cozy, safe environment for studying. Classes started in the afternoon, around 4:30 p.m., and went on until the evening, usually wrapping up by 7 or 8.

You lived in Strawberry with your dad, Lyle, and your older brother, Arthur Morgan. Your dad had changed a lot after your mother's death, becoming an alcoholic and often disappearing for days. Arthur, on the other hand--he was your shield, making you feel both protected and suffocated at the same time. Since your father was usually too lost in his own world or away from home, he didn’t bother you much, only occasionally checking in as if to remind you he was still your father. Meh.

But Arthur--he took his role far too seriously. In fact, he thought he should take on both his and your father’s duties. That’s why you had to ask--or rather, beg--him to let you attend Mrs. Anne's classes when you first heard about them from Isla, your friend who had shown you the poster.

Strawberry wasn’t that big of a town, and after verifying everything about Mrs. Anne, Arthur finally agreed--thankfully. But only on the condition that he would pick you up and drop you off himself. He used to be caring, but not like this. Your mother’s death had changed the two men in the house in completely opposite ways. One stopped caring altogether, while the other became overbearing. And you were just trying to survive, making the best of it.

The urge to run away with your friends felt all too real sometimes. But then you’d think what would Arthur might do if he ever found you? That’s where all your plans would fall apart. You had also learned, through Arthur, that neither he nor your father were earning their money honestly. He tried to keep it from you at first, but eventually told you when you were old enough. You had your suspicions anyway--his words were just confirmation.

Today was like any other day. Arthur had dropped you off outside Mrs. Anne's house as usual. But by 7:30, the weather took a sudden turn--it started raining heavily out of nowhere. It had been a bit windy earlier, but there was no sign of rain. Yet here it was, pouring down. Time passed, and it was now 8:10 p.m., but your idiot of a brother still hadn't shown up to pick you up. You were feeling awkward staying at your teacher's home, despite Mrs. Anne and her husband being the sweetest people. You’d already had two cups of hot chocolate with your friend, Isla, and didn’t want to impose any further.

"(Y/N), he might not come with this heavy rain. We could walk to your house together--it’s not that far," Isla suggested, whispering. It was just the two of us left, as most of the girls had gone home earlier. You both had work to finish, but even if you’d finished sooner, you couldn’t leave without Arthur. Going home without him wasn’t the first option.

"But what if he comes here after we leave?"

Isla groaned. "Mrs. Anne will tell him that we headed to your place. Look at me--my house is even further than yours, what the hell would I do-- oh my God! I can just stay at yours tonight! I already told my mother that if it rains, I might stay over at yours. Let’s just go!."

She had a point. Maybe Arthur was out doing--well, you didn’t even want to think about it. After taking leave from Mrs. Anne, the two of you dashed to your house with the umbrellas she had given you.

Once you reached the small, humble abode, you both headed to your room with the food you had prepared earlier, settling in to chat and relax while enjoying the soothing sound of the rain.

"Where are your dad and brother?" Isla asked.

You shrugged. "I mean--Dad being absent is normal, but Arthur is usually home by now. I’m kind of worried."

"Seriously, (Y/N)? I’d be happy to have the house to myself for a change. Not to mention, some space. He’s--kind of scary, isn’t he?"

"Scary? Well, yeah, sometimes. But trust me, he’s nice and caring. More than Dad could ever be. It does get a bit too much at times, though."

"Mhm. And it’s kind of messed up, isn’t it? The work they do. Both of them." Isla was the only friend you’d confided in about your family, and that was only because she had once seen Arthur with Dutch, a shady con man who often visited Strawberry or rather his boss. You hated Dutch despite never meeting him. He's the reason your brother is now on the same path as your dad.

"What can I do about it? I’ve tried talking to him, but he always shuts me out--" Your eyes caught a glimpse of a paper sticking out of the side pocket of your bag. "Wait, what’s that?"

You pulled out the paper, and both you and Isla began reading it. It was some kind of confession addressed to Mavis, another girl in your class. You couldn’t figure out who wrote it or why it was in your bag. The writer had only signed with an initial: A.

"Oh! Wait, wait, wait! It must be Amell. I saw him whispering to a kid outside from the window. He must be the one who gave this to him to put in Mavis’s bag."

"Amell who? And how did this end up in my bag?" you asked, confusion evident on your face as you looked back at the note.

Isla leaned back against the headboard, stretching her limbs with a relaxed sigh. "Amell is Mrs. Anne’s son. I’ve seen him talking to Mavis before. You and Mavis were sitting together today, and you both have the same colored bags. The kid must’ve gotten confused."

“Is the kid we’re talking about, Anders? He’s so dumb,” you said, shaking your head with a soft chuckle. “Anyway, don’t let me forget to hand this to Mavis tomorrow.”

Suddenly, the door to your room burst open, and Arthur stormed in.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his sudden intrusion. "Um... hi?" you said, your tone a mix of surprise and uncertainty.

Isla straightened up, her eyes quickly avoiding Arthur’s gaze, as she gave a hesitant but polite greeting as well.

"How did you get home?" Arthur's voice was cold, cutting through the room.

"Isla and I came together. Where were you, though?" you asked, trying to keep your tone casual despite the tension.

Arthur’s gaze shifted to Isla. "Isla, the rain has stopped. You should go home. Your family must be waiting."

Isla looked at you, confusion clear on her face. "She’s staying becau-"

"Not today," Arthur interrupted firmly.

"Why not? Are you going to tell me where you were?" you shot back, frustration creeping into your voice.

"Y/N, I--I’ll see you tomorrow."

You let Isla leave, your irritation with Arthur growing. You wanted to talk openly without making Isla uncomfortable in the middle of the family drama. As you moved to escort her to the front door, Arthur abruptly blocked your path. "Stay here," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.

You sighed and sank back onto the bed, shoving the letter--which was still in your hand--back into your bag. Arthur stormed back in and slammed the door a bit too hard.

"What’s gotten into you?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm despite the frustration bubbling up inside.

Arthur’s eyes were cold, his jaw set. "What did I tell you about coming home alone?" His irritation was palpable, fixated on the condition he had imposed.

"Well, what was I supposed to do, stay there? It’s 9 p.m.! Where were you?" Your words seemed to only fuel his anger, rather than penetrate his stubbornness.

Arthur’s gaze hardened. "I’ve noticed your tone changing recently, ever since you started going there. What exactly are they teaching you at that place, huh?"

"Basic knowledge. Like not overstaying your welcome at someone’s house when you can walk home," you retorted, trying to keep your tone steady despite your rising frustration.

Arthur’s eyes narrowed further as he took a few steps closer. "Is that so?" His voice was low, dangerously calm. "Well, our dear father got arrested, so I was at the sheriff's. And as for ‘basic knowledge,’" he said, grabbing your bag and dumping its contents onto the floor.

"HEY! My books!!" you exclaimed, a mix of shock and anger in your voice.

"Mhm, what might this be?" Arthur’s attention was fixed on the letter he had seen earlier. He picked it up and read it, his expression darkening as his suspicions were confirmed. "A confession, hmm? An A? This is what you two were gigglin' about earlier?" he murmured, crumpling the letter in his fist, his gaze still locked on it. You gritted your teeth, trying to keep your composure.

"A for… Amell, her son, right?" Arthur’s tone was icy, his eyes boring into you as he processed the revelation.

"What even--- That wasn’t for me! It was for Mavis! Have you forgotten to read?!" you protested, trying to defend yourself. He scoffed at your reply, eyes twinkling with amusement. "So Mavis is your codename?"

"Are you serious?"

Arthur’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did he drop you both home, or just you alone? Huh?" His fists clenched tightly, and you could see the anger boiling beneath his calm exterior. Arthur's boots struck the floor with a deliberate, menacing rhythm.

"What are you on about, Arthur? You know that’s not true! A kid put it in my bag. Look, it’s not mine. You can ask Isla."

Arthur’s gaze hardened even further. "Why should I ask her? Hm? She’s your partner in crime, isn’t she? And it’s not like you’re going to see her again."

"W-what? What does that mean?!" you stammered, panic rising in your voice. But nothing could have prepared you for the next moment. Your hands were now on his as he gripped your jaw, your body instinctively going stiff, the fear evident in your eyes. This was the first time he had raised his hands to you in such a threatening manner.

"Yes, no more Isla and no more of that whorehouse you go to. You’ve studied enough. I’ve been too lenient with you." A pained whimper escaped your lips as his gloved fingers dug into your jaw.

"N-no-don’t do that! Why are you not believing me, Arthur?!" you pleaded, your voice breaking. He shoved you by your jaw, sending you crashing to the floor. Your head narrowly missed hitting the bed’s edge.

"If you utter one more word or try to set a foot outside until I say so, especially to that school of yours, I WILL BREAK YOUR FUCKING LEGS!"

His heavy breathing was the only sound you could hear as you stared at the floor, your vision blurred by tears and chest tight with fear and anxiety. He can easily break you in two if he wants to right now, even Isla's gone. "I am here, working these jobs to keep a roof over your head while that fool has clearly given up, and you’re here, frolicking with your lovers! Learning to write fucking love letters." He stood over you, his anger uncontrollable, and grabbed you by your hair, forcing you to lift your head slightly.

"You’ve enjoyed yourself enough. Now stay at the fucking house and make it a home, like Mother did, like you are supposed to do. And I’m dead serious when I say you don’t want me seeing you going near that house or interacting with those little friends of yours, got it? Because I have eyes and ears everywhere." His words were a chilling threat, leaving you too stunned to fully grasp their meaning.

"DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND?!" he demanded, his voice thunderous. He yanked your hair with a brutal force, his actions cold and devoid of the care he once showed you. This was the same brother who used to be so kind, now revealing his true, harsh colors over a simple misunderstanding.

"K-kay," you managed to choke out, nodding with tears streaming down your face. He released you with a rough shove.

"Get up and heat the food. I’m going to freshen up." And just like that, he left, leaving you alone in the oppressive silence. Your books lay scattered around you, their presence a painful reminder of a future now out of reach, as you were left enveloped in a cloud of despair.

Part II

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askthestans · 4 months ago

Note

Hey Stan, can you tell us stories about your brother Sherman being a total square?

Stan and Ford: At the same time. You mean Square-mie?

Both of them laugh, not in a harsh way, but the kind of lighthearted chuckles that usually come from one sibling teasing another. It's obvious they love their older brother, but... like most siblings, they'll always jump on a chance to make fun of one another.

Stan: Oh, he always hated that nickname! Look, Anon, lemme first introduce ya to the official scale of Pines fun-ness. At the top, there's me, for obvious reasons. Second best is Mabel, also for obvious reasons. And... He pauses, putting his hand to his chin. Damn, I gotta say, I think Ford's next-

Ford: I am as much of an adventurer as I am a scientist.

Stan: Yeah, definitely Ford, despite his dorkiness and obsession with... He gestures at Ford's honors and trophies for grades and intelligence related successes from childhood. That garbage. Good grades and other crap. And then-

Ford: Definitely our nephew, Dipper and Mabel's father. Works in IT, very smart, has a little bit more of Mabel's fun-loving nature. But far less adventurous than you or I. You and I could never live a boring suburban life like he does.

Stan: Grinning. Then, near the very bottom, you've got Dipper. No offense to the kid, but he's Ford's smarts but minus Ford's rebel streak. Walkin' wet blanket at times, always askin' how many laws we're breakin' while we're out havin' fun... although me and Ford are teachin' 'im to grow past it, as much as his parents will let us corrupt 'im. But he at least likes to have fun, I'll give 'im that. So that leaves us at-

Ford: Way at the very bottom of the Pines fun-ness scale, you have... Square-mie. He coughs. Shermie, sorry.

Both men howl with snorts and laughter again, barely able to explain why.

Stan: Wiping a tear from his eye, wheezing a bit. Okay, okay, Anon, picture this: take Dipper and his dad's wet blanket crap and crank it up to 1000. This guy? Our brother? Good ol' Saint Sherm? Guy's never even had a parking ticket his entire life! He won't even jaywalk! He never goes even one mile per hour above the speed limit! He's like the human equivalent of white bread. Of unflavored oatmeal. Got average grades, got a boring old suburban house with a literal white picket fence, had an average job-

Ford: Shudders. I have no idea how he worked as an IRS accountant for decades.

Stan: Ugh, don't remind me. He's always barkin' at me. "Stan, you pay your taxes yet this year?" this. "Stan, you need to contribute to your civic duty.", that. Cripes, ol' Sherm is like the anti-Pines. A Pines is supposed to laugh in the face of rules and authority. This guy huffs whatever authority's smokin' like he's part of a cult. Even when we were kids, he'd always do chores even when he wasn't asked. Kept his room clean as a whistle. Barked at me to do my homework and foiled our pranks when he could. Pure goody two shoes, so much he'd make an angel blush. I think all of our Ma's rebellion genes went to us, and Pa's strictness went to Sherm.

Ford: Yes, so after I returned and we explained to him what had happened, he...

Both men fall into a snicker fest again, unsure who will stop laughing first long enough to tell the story.

Stan: Holy mackerel, he... he... Snort. Picture Dipper at, like, seventy years old, but with an even bigger stick up his ass and even less muscles somehow. Gets told this long, convoluted as hell tale about me fakin' my death and pretendin' to be Ford for three decades, Ford gettin' lost in sci-fi sideburn land for just as long, the world almost ending with Sherm's grandkids along for the ride... just mind bendin' stuff... and the first words outta his mouth... and for reference, this guy never swears, and he never has thrown a punch at anyone... he's so square he's a cube! But he just says...

He wheezes, so Ford has to finish the story.

Ford: Snort. He raises his voice a bit, likely to mimic Shermie's. "I just knew I shoulda kicked your asses more when we were kids."

The two howl and cackle with laughter, leaning on each other for support.

Stan: And then he just... walked away, out his door, down the street to the gas station, bought beer for the - and I'm not kidding - the first time in his life, and sat back down in his old man chair and faced us as we just stood there, gobsmacked, while he cracked one open and drank it with an expression like a man betrayed. And he said-

Ford: "You two knuckleheads are lucky I'm even older than you, 'cause if I wasn't, I'd plant my loafer up your ass! You're gonna sit down, shut up, and let me drink this crap while I process whatever the f*ck I just heard and how many goddamn taxes you owe. And then maybe I'll think about huggin' your sorry asses."

More laughing.

Stan: I'm not sure if he was more mad about the taxes, or the fact that I'd faked my death all those years ago, or... the world ending part where Dipper and Mabes coulda been hurt... or maybe because we drove him to drink and swear and threaten someone for the first time in his whole goddamn life, all in the same day, he... Chuckles. He never really said. All I know is, is I don't think I've ever had my jaw that close to the floor in my life.

Ford: Honestly, I think we just kind of... broke him. Even still, I think he blew our minds more than we blew his.

Stan: He laughs a bit more, then shakes his head. Pfft, can you imagine Sherm kickin' our asses, anyway? He'd probably gently nudge one of our shins and give up. He's too nice for anything worse. That's the thing with our brother: he may be boring as sin, but... he's a good guy.

Ford: He always protected us from bullies when we were kids. Carried us home whenever we sprained an ankle or broke a bone.

Stan: And bought us ice cream whenever we asked, and fixed our bikes, and patched us up, scared the "monsters" outta our closet, and taught us most of what we know. Kind of like a second Dad, honestly, and one a lot less grumpy. A bit more somber. And he helped our parents out in their old age when we weren't around, until the... well, you know. 'Til the end.

Ford: His smile fades, then he sighs, expression a bit bittersweet. And he did actually hug us.

Stan: He scratches the back of his head, a bit embarrassed, but smiling fondly. For three hours straight.

#gravity falls #shermie pines #ford pines #stanford pines #stan pines #stanley pines #so I know you asked for a story of Sherm being a square but behold; the one time he wasn't a square #it just required his two brothers' 30 years worth of dumbassery to push him that far #shermie pines is a wholesome cinnamon roll in my headcanon #I personally picture him like Dipper's sensitivity mixed with Mabel's wholesomeness #askthestans

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storydays · 11 months ago

Note

You could give poppy and viva a brother!reader,you don’t have to but you could

My WHAT?!

Viva and Poppy X Brother! Male!Reader

Clay X Male Reader

“Oh my gosh, HeeLllOOOOOO!!! My name is Viva and It’s so fantasamazing to see other Trolls!” The yellow haired Troll squealed, hugging everyone before getting off track and having girl talk with Poppy, when another figure appeared behind Branch and John Dory.

“Oye, don't mind Viva..” The brothers yelped, turning to see a orange skinned male Troll dressed similar to Viva, except he was wearing a crown on his blond head, and he had dark bags under his eyes. “She’s been like that since we were trollings.”

“Mi gemelo melancólico everyone, (Y/N). He’s the moon to my sun.” Viva and (Y/N) shared twin grins. “Whatever, we’re being rude.” (Y/N) offered fist bumps and high fives to the new Trolls, as Viva called for fries and milkshakes. “Lights on for our new friends, Putt Putt Trolls!”

You were chewing on a fry, ignoring the group, even when Clay arrived when you heard the familiar ping of a Hug Time bracelet. “Hug Time!” You chirped with Viva and hugged the nearest Troll which happened to be Clay. He laughed softly, patting your head, ignoring the looks his brothers’ were giving him.

You stopped squeezing the green haired Troll, and popped up to Viva’s side, as she looked closer at Poppy’s hug time bracelet. “I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again?” You wondered, looking closer at the pink haired Troll in front of you.

“I’m Poppy.” “Okay, another random question: is your Dad King Peppy?” Viva asked hesitantly.

“Um, yea.” You and Viva had different reaction: she squealed loudly and hugged Poppy and twirled around happily. You smiled softly, eyes misting, as Clay whispered to you, “Are you okay, cariño?” You nodded your head as you walked forward to hug her Poppy much softer than Viva did but still as sweet.

“(Nickname), our hermanita is alive! And she’s the Pop Queen now?!” Viva squealed again as you held Poppy’s face in your hands. “You’re really alive, Popstar. And wow! You are so grown up now and absolutely rocking that queen look, lil sis.” You gush, excitedly flapping your hands up and down and tapping your feet.

Poppy gasped as she remembered hearing a soft voice calling her a Popstar. “It was you!” You tilted your head, curious to what she was talking about. “I’ve always remembered a voice and a warm smile calling me Popstar, but Dad used to say it was in my head. I have a sister and a brother? I was just saying this! Wasn’t I just saying this? How could I not know about secret siblings!” “That is so Dad.” The three of you chorused giggling amongst yourself.

You took a step back walking backwards as Clay’s arm wrapped around your waist, watching Viva and Poppy talk at rapid speed. Something about planning events and best friends? Before you realized it, you were singing softly with your sisters’, catching up, and watching Clay hang with his brothers’, fighting the smirk on his face.

You found yourself curled up into Clay’s side as you got to know his brothers, while Viva and Poppy ran off towards Viva’s house for sister time.

You frowned hearing about the danger Floyd’s in, for a number of reasons. You were tired of hearing bigger creatures bigger that Trolls abuse Trolls for any reason.

It’s why Viva and the other Putt Putt Trolls made you their king.You’d do anything for Trolls to ensure they could live peacefully. But you also knew it meant Clay and Poppy were going to leave.

You’d seen the way she and Branch looked at each other, and knew where one went, the other wasn’t far behind.

It’s how others’ described you and Clay. But you also knew that Viva wasn’t going to let Poppy go easily.

You pulled Clay’s arm making him stop mid explanation.. “Amor, you and your brothers’ should get going, before Viva tries to–” You gasped as the door came down with a heavy thud. “Stop you.” you trailed off, sighing and resting your forehead on Clay’s shoulder.

Maldita sea.

Translations:

Oye= Hey

Mi gemelo melancólico = My broody twin

cariño= sweetheart

hermanita= little sister

amor= love

maldita sea= damn it

Part 2?

@vacayisland

#brozone x reader #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #branch #clay trolls #trolls 3 #broppy #bruce trolls #floyd trolls #john dory trolls #brozone clay x reader #clay x reader #viva trolls #queen poppy #x male reader #branch x poppy

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achilles-rage · 5 months ago

Text

Off Limits

summary: you're street's foster sister and a hacker for swat, and rocker can't keep his eyes off you. one night a case you helped rocker with leads you into danger, landing you in the hospital. rocker's protectiveness of you has street a little confused, and it takes a while before street finally realizes that your feelings for each other are real, leading to confessed feelings.

word count: 6.7k

request- @melodyflowersblog: What about a swat fic with rocker X fem reader, where is street or Chris sister who is always at their work, either she is like a hacker or some other reason, and her and rocker get closer as time goes on and no one knows until there is like a shooting and reader gets hurt and he gets protective of her even when she's cleared from hospital, and everyone can see the love in his eyes or something like that

A/N: i decided to make the reader street's foster sibling so it could be race inclusive! pls let me know if i wrote anything that was not race inclusive! and i don’t know anything about computers so if anything i wrote doesn’t make sense just close your eyes<3 and also

plot hole!!! big dumb idiot alert!!! apartments have those doors at the front you need a key to get into!! get over it!!!! and street leaves the apartment after helping rocker drop reader off!!! and he has no car!!! just pretend he took an uber!!!! that's all, enjoy<3

warnings: reader's house is broken into and she's held a gunpoint, making out at the end lolz, flirty rocker<3, no use of y/n, plus size!reader fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

“Miss me, sweetheart?” you hear Rocker say as he walks into your office, winking as you turn to look at him, forcing you to fight back a smile.

After your brother Street helped you get a job at SWAT, everyone was quick to welcome you with open arms, but Rocker had seemed to take a special interest in you. You, Street, and Nate were always close growing up, living in the same foster home, with them coming to your rescue when the other kids teased or picked on you. With the trouble Jim and Nate had gotten into as kids, you took it upon yourself to help them out of their predicaments, learning that knowing how to hack let you erase security footage, and blackmail some bad people they had gotten themselves tied up with.

You were a breath of fresh air to Rocker at SWAT, your introverted personality a stark contrast to the officers he worked with. You were brilliant, and you had an eye for figuring out things that the other tech assistants couldn’t. And your pretty face and gorgeous, soft body definitely had nothing to do with his infatuation.

“What do you need, Rocker?” you ask softly, face growing hot as you turn back to your computer, rolling your eyes. You feel him lean over your shoulder, hand on the back of your chair, looking at the words and numbers on your screen, pretending to know what the hell he was looking at.

“Can’t I visit my favourite girl without needing something? Maybe I’m just here to see your pretty face,” he teases, looking down at you, a smirk on his face.

Rocker had been flirting with you for months, loving the way you react to his words, his looks. He’s used to flirting with people sometimes to get what he wants, but with you, he seems to go the extra mile, not stopping until he leaves you a flustered and stuttering mess. He loves the way you look down, muttering something about getting back to work, or how you look up at him with those doe eyes, breath catching in your throat.

“Shut up,” you whisper, fingers slightly shaking, hovering over your keyboard. “What do you need?” you ask again, biting your lip as you stare at the screen, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips as you feel the heat radiating off of him.

“We found out who the head of that cartel the squad is working on is, but he’s up in the air. Is there any way you can work your magic and find anything else on him? I’m desperate here, princess.” he explains, and you can’t ignore the way his voice grows more stressed as he nears the end of his sentence.

You nod, smiling softly, as your fingers begin to move, eyes combing over credit card uses and security cam footage of various cartel members, hoping to find something to set him on the right track.

He watches you work, eyes gazing down from your screen to you. The way your hair looks perfectly styled, how he can see a glimpse of your chest from the angle he was standing over you, the softness of your thighs spread across your chair. He had to look away, clearing his throat quietly as his mind began being overrun by your thick thighs and how they would feel wrapped around him.

“Why didn’t you ask Jacobs to do this? He knows more about your case than I do.” you ask softly as you work, glancing at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his features. You’re glad he was here regardless, happy to spend a few minutes with him, despite the hammering of your heart in your chest and the way your breath quickened. You may or may not have a small crush on him, not that it could ever happen. Him and Jim may be friendly now, but you can tell that they butt heads every now and then, and with how protective Jim is of you, you know better than to ever do anything about your silly little work crush. You’re too shy, anyway. No matter how giddy his advances make you, you know nothing will ever come of this.

“Yeah, but he’s not near as fun to talk to as you. And you’re good, sweetheart. I have a feeling you may find something that he’s too stupid to catch onto.” he teases softly, looking down at you, smirking, his eyes not leaving you as he studied your frame.

You shake your head, fighting back a smile as you continue to work, trying to ignore the way he leaned in closer to you. After a few minutes, you make a small noise of victory, turning to look up at him, smiling.

“1435 West Park Avenue, room 219.” you whisper, watching his eyebrows furrow. “His right hand man. He has two aliases, but nothing was coming up for either of them, so I put the first name of one with the last name of the other. It’s being used at a shitty motel downtown, and it’s being paid for by a credit card that was just reported stolen. The credit card payment said he checked in the day the cartel leader went MIA. I hacked into the motel’s security footage. That’s him, right?” you ask, excitement flooding your body as Rocker looks at the slightly blurry security footage, a smile breaking out onto his face. He leans down, kissing the top of your head, laughing softly.

“That’s my girl. You’re a genius, sweetheart.” he says happily, earning a giggle from you as you shake your head.

“It was a lucky guess,” you whisper, biting the inside of your lip as you break eye contact, face getting hot.

“And yet, Jacobs didn’t find it, you did. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re doing this so that I’ll come to you more often. Especially when you’re wearing clothes you know will drive me crazy,” he teases, smirking, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at you, eyes glancing down to your cleavage peeking out of your low-cut shirt.

You look back up at him with wide eyes, scoffing as you fight back a smile. “I’m not doing anything,” you protest, trying not to look away as his intense gaze meets yours.

As Rocker is about to respond, your brother walks in, looking at the lack of space between the two of you. How Rocker was standing in front of your chair, arms crossed, smirking down at you.

“What’s going on in here?” Street asks, eyebrow raised, leaning on the doorframe. You look up at him, smiling softly, shaking your head as you try to collect your thoughts.

“Nothing. Just helping Rocker with his case. What’s up?” you explain, standing up from your chair as Rocker backs up. Rocker shoots you a wink before turning, walking out the door, nodding to Street as he walks past him.

“Thanks again, sweetheart!” Rocker shouts as he steps into the hall, Street’s eyes narrowing as his eyes follow Rocker down the hall.

“What the hell was that?” Street whispers as he turns back to you, walking into your office, arms crossed over his chest.

“Nothing, don’t worry about it. He just likes getting a rise out of you, you know that.” you tell Street, letting out a soft exhale, trying to calm your nerves. Why did it feel like you’ve been caught doing something wrong? Other than the less than pure thoughts running through your head, nothing had actually happened.

“Yeah, whatever. He’s a flirt. Just…don’t get attached or anything, okay? I know you. You fall for people too fast. Remember that guy we met at the beach when we were 15? You wouldn’t shut up about him for weeks,” he teases, laughing softly.

“Alright, we were 15, and he promised he’d take me to that concert I wanted to go to that you and Nate refused to go with me to,” you argue, rolling your eyes, smiling softly at the memory. This earns a snort from Street as he shrugs, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying. Okay?” he says, eyes softer as he grabs your shoulders, ducking his head slightly to meet your gaze.

You nod, muttering a quiet ‘okay’ as you look up at him, giving him a small smile. He smiles back, patting your shoulder before letting you go, backing up towards the door.

“Team’s going out for drinks tonight, if you wanna come? They’d love to have you there,” he tells you.

“Nah, I’m pretty tired. I think I’m just gonna head home, have a night in,” you tell him, sitting back down at your desk, waving him off. “Now get back to work before Hondo fires you. Again.” you tease, turning your chair around to face your computer.

You hear him laugh as he walks away, letting you get back to work. As you continue doing some digging for various cases SWAT has open, your mind trails off to Rocker. You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t help it. The biggest reason he makes you so flustered is the way his eyes scan you whenever he sees you. You were a little surprised at first, noticing how his eyes fell from your chest to your plush stomach, your thick thighs. Your tits, you were used to, but you could feel your body grow hot as he examined all of you in a way you weren’t used to. He was good with his words too. Always knowing what to say to make you stutter, your palms growing sweaty as your eyes trailed down to the way his arms flex in his tight uniform shirts.

You look at the bottom corner of your screen after a couple more hours of work, noticing the time as your brain returns to the task at hand, your thoughts still foggy with thoughts of Rocker and his stupid attractive face. You stand up, grabbing your purse and walk out of your office, making your way to your car to drive home. You say a quick goodbye to everyone as you walk out to your car, noticing 50 squad pulling into the parking lot, returning from the motel you sent them to earlier.

“You get him?” you call across the parking lot as Rocker steps out of the armored truck.

He turns to you, a smile breaking out on his face as his eyes meet yours.

“All thanks to you, sweetheart!” He yells back, winking at you.

You laugh softly, smiling to yourself as you reach your car, eyes looking down as you shake your head.

It’s almost 11PM when you hear a crash coming from your living room. You sit up quickly in bed, breath catching in your throat as you put a hand over your mouth, listening to the quiet that envelopes you.

You wait a moment before you hear a quiet voice in your hallway, whispering to someone, then you hear two sets of footsteps slowly getting closer to your room. Your eyes widen, and you quickly get out of bed, silently making your way to your doorway, masked by the darkness of your room.

You tense as you see one of the men you were looking into earlier; one of the lower level members of the cartel you were helping Rocker’s team with. You tiptoe to your closet quietly, grabbing your phone on the way, dialing the number of the first person you thought of as you close your closet door, hiding yourself behind some of your clothes.

“It’s late, sweetheart. I wonder what you could be calling me for…” Rocker teases softly once he answers your call, a smirk on his face.

“Rocker,” you whisper, almost inaudible, tears welling up in your eyes as the gravity of your situation suddenly becomes quite clear.

He tenses as he hears the fear in your voice, standing up from his spot on the couch, jaw clenched.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” he whispers, grabbing his keys and gun, jogging out to his truck, phone wedged between his ear and his shoulder as he unlocks the door, climbing in.

“The cartel, they’re in my apartment.” you whisper, putting a hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing as you hear one pair of footsteps growing closer to your room.

“I’m on my way. Where are you exactly? How many of them are there? Do you have a weapon?” he asks, his voice hard, as he starts to drive, weaving through traffic as he drives well above the speed limit, trying not to imagine what they might do to you if they find you.

“In my closet. There’s two of them. I don’t have anything.” you whisper, shrinking further back into your closet, mind racing to figure out how and why they found you.

Suddenly, it hits you. You didn’t log out of your computer when you left work. You had a program open, the same one you used to find the cartel leader, trying to track down some of the higher ups in the cartel that got away, when you noticed it was time for you to go home. While that program is good, it’s dangerous, and with the right training, the people you’re trying to find can find you as well. Leaving it open meant they had more time to track you down, finding your name, your job, and your address.

“Stay on the phone with me, baby. I’ll be there in 2 minutes. If they find you and try to take you out of your apartment, I need you to fight. I’ll get to you, I promise. Just buy me some time.” he explains, listening to your ragged breathing over the phone, picturing the fear etched onto your face as you hide in your closet.

All of a sudden, he hears your closet door open and a stifled scream as your phone falls to the floor. The two men grab you, pulling you out of the closet as one slaps a hand over your mouth.

“Got you, you stupid bitch. You thought you could get our boss arrested and we wouldn’t track you down?” Rocker hears over the phone, his whole body tensing as he pulls into your apartment complex’s parking lot. He throws it in park, not bothering to kill the engine as he runs inside, gun in hand.

You thrash in their grip, trying to break free as one holds onto you, the other aiming a gun at your head.

“Struggling is pointless, darling. We’ve got a job to do. Now, you’re gonna tell us everything you found out about us, and we might just let you live.” the one with the gun spits at you, eyes never leaving yours as he smirks. He waves the gun at the man holding you, signaling him to take his hand away from your mouth.

“You don’t have to do this. I didn’t find anything. Just where your boss was hiding, and he was caught. That’s all I know, I swear.” you lie, trying not to look at the door. They didn’t seem to notice your phone before you dropped it, so you hoped if you didn’t do anything to make it look like you were waiting for someone to show up, Rocker might have the element of surprise on his side.

“Bullshit. You’re gonna tell us, or we’re gonna make sure that your death is extra long, and extra painful. Did you see the way we torture people while doing your research? It’s not something you want,” the man with the gun says angrily, the sound of him cocking the gun ringing in your ears, making you flinch.

As you’re about to reply, you hear two gunshots. You shut your eyes tightly, a high pitched noise escaping your throat. Rocker steps into the room after taking down the man with the gun, gun raised at the man still holding onto you tightly, a new sense of urgency in him as he notices the red spot growing on your shirt. You open your eyes once you feel the sharp pain in your side, knees growing weak at the feeling. You make eye contact with Rocker as he stands in front of you, his eyes quickly looking down as he bends to grab the man’s gun and puts it in his waistband, keeping his own pointed at the man behind you.

“Duck,” he says to you quickly, noticing the man’s grip on you faltering as the realization of what just happened crosses his face.

You drop to the floor quickly, hand moving to your side, trying to put pressure on the gunshot wound, flinching as you hear another gunshot, keeping your eyes to the ground. You hear the man behind you drop to the floor, and almost immediately after, you feel Rocker’s hands on you, forcing you to lay down on your back, grabbing your hands and forcing them to cover your wound. When the man with the gun went down, his finger was still on the trigger, sending a rogue bullet into your abdomen as he fell.

“Baby, where’s your phone?” he asks, a sense of urgency in his voice.

“Dropped it when they grabbed me,” you whisper, breath quickening as the searing pain in your side grows.

He quickly runs to your room, grabbing your phone, dialing 911 as he races back over to you, moving your hands gently before using his own hands to cover your wound, trying to slow the bleeding. You wince, crying out softly as he applies pressure, growing dizzy as he gives the 911 operator your address.

“Stay with me, sweetheart, you gotta keep your eyes open, yeah?” he whispers to you as your vision gets blurry, your eyes blinking slowly, fighting to keep them open.

“Look at me, baby. Let me see those pretty eyes.” he says louder, hands still pressing your wound, watching as your eyes flutter closed, the sound of sirens getting closer.

“Come on, don’t do this to me. Open your eyes, baby,” is the last thing you hear, the pain subsiding as everything goes black.

You wake up to the sound of beeping, wincing softly as you open your eyes, blinded for a moment by the fluorescent lights shining brightly over you.

You hear a loud exhale from beside you, someone’s grip tightening on your hand as your vision comes into focus. You look over, seeing your brother sitting beside you in a hospital chair, a worried look on his face.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me, we didn’t know if you’d make it.” Street whispers, standing up to kiss your forehead softly.

You look up at him, swallowing as you try to sit up, wincing louder.

“No, no, Stay there. You were shot. You have to rest. I’ll go get everyone, they’re all waiting in the lobby.” Street says, letting go of your hand and walking to the doorway, waving everyone in.

You look to the door as Chris, Hondo, Tan, Luca, Deacon, and Rocker walk in, looks of relief on their faces.

They all take their turns of saying how glad they were that you’re okay as you smile weakly at them, eyes glancing to Rocker as he makes his way over, jaw clenched and hands in his pockets, refusing to look you in the eyes. A look of sadness fills your eyes as you see him standing toward the back of the group, a hard look on his face as his eyes focus on where your wound is. You look back over at Chris as she tells you how glad she is that you’re okay, thanking her as you try to take your mind off of Rocker.

After a while, the team all look exhausted, and you tell them to go home and get some rest. They agree after much convincing and leave, while Street tells you that he’s staying whether you want him to or not. You laugh softly at his insistence, wincing as you feel a pain shoot up your spine, Rocker’s eyes immediately lock on yours, moving beside your bed as he glances down at where your gunshot wound was, before looking back up at your face, eyes softening.

You’re so caught up in Rocker’s presence that you don’t hear Street tell you that he’s going to grab some snacks, his sentence stopping short when he sees the way you and Rocker are looking at each other. He watches for a second before backing out of the room, letting you two have a moment, brows furrowed as he tries to figure out if the emotions he saw between you two were the product of his lack of sleep.

“Thank you,” you whisper to Rocker, turning your palm face up on the bed, moving it closer to him.

“Goddammit, sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me. Do you know what I’d do for you?” he says, sitting down in the chair Jim had pulled up to your bed, moving to cradle your hand between his own.

You let out a shaky breath at his words, chest feeling heavy as the weight of his words hit you. You’re unable to form words as you look up at him, the way he was looking at you expressing all the emotions he was feeling for you in this moment. The fear of possibly losing you. The adoration he felt for you. The guilt he felt for you being in this situation. He felt like it was his fault. He was the one that asked you to do some digging on the cartel.

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if I lost you. I kept thinking about what I might walk into, what they could’ve done to you. I know this cartel. The things they would’ve done if I didn’t get there in time,” he trails off, head dropping as his eyes fill with tears.

“Hey,” you whisper, reaching out to put your hand on top of the hand on top of yours, “I’m okay. You saved me. I’m right here.”

“You got shot, baby. Because of me.” he whispers looking back up at you, face red.

“I’m alive because of you. You saved me. I called you because I knew you’d save me.” you tell him, giving him a look that you hope conveys all the things you want to say to him, but are too scared to say.

He lets out a shaky breath, wiping away a tear that falls down his cheek as he nods.

“I’m never gonna let anything like this happen to you again,” he whispers. He leans down, kissing your hand softly before looking back up at you, holding eye contact.

After a moment you look down, face growing hot at his intense look. Leave it to Rocker to make you feel flustered even after being shot.

As you both sit in silence, your brother walks back in, stopping as he sees the way Rocker is staring at you, holding your hand in his.

Rocker quickly stands up, dropping your hand as he nods at Street, a hard expression making its way onto his face again.

“You got her?” Rocker asks Street, standing up straight as he crosses his arms over his chest.

Street nods, giving Rocker a ‘what the fuck’ look as Rocker starts walking towards the door.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be back in the morning, okay?” Rocker says in a much softer voice, looking over his shoulder to you as he gets to the door.

You nod, smiling softly, watching him until he’s out of sight. You look back over at Street as he clears his throat, looking at you with a raised brow.

“What the fuck?” Street whisper-yells, sitting down on the chair beside your bed as you look at him sheepishly.

“What?” you ask, looking down at your hands, fidgeting with them.

“I was a little confused on why you called him and not me, other than him living closer to you. But now I see why,” he tells you, leaning back in the chair, putting his feet up on the bed.

You sigh, shaking your head. “It’s nothing, Jim, I swear. I was helping him with that cartel today. I thought he was the best one to call since he’s more familiar with them.” you explain, biting the inside of your lip nervously, hoping he doesn’t try to call your bluff.

“Right,” he mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “I’m telling you, don’t get too attached, please. It’s his job, he did what he was trained to do.” he tells you, opening up the bag of chips he bought.

“Why do you hate him so much?” you ask, looking back over at him.

“I don’t hate him. I just know guys like him. Trust me, you don’t wanna date a cop.” he tells you, his focus going to the chips in his hand, offering the bag to you. You shake your head, sighing.

“You know guys like him; you don’t know him. He’s a good guy.” you argue softly. As much as you love your brother, he can be really overprotective of you. You’re generally very trusting, and a lot of the time, he feels the need to make sure you’re giving your trust to those who actually deserve it.

“I’m not saying he’s not a good guy, he’s just not good for you. He’s cocky, and arrogant, okay? I promise, the attraction will wear off soon.” he tells you as you roll your eyes.

“So, he’s like you?” you tease softly, not wanting to argue with him right now, still feeling weak.

“Exactly,” he teases back, shoving more chips into his mouth as you laugh softly, wincing. “Now, get some sleep. I’ll stay here with you tonight. Doctor says we can leave in the morning.” he tells you with his mouth full as you nod. You lay your head back on the pillow, sighing as you drift off to sleep.

The next morning, you wake up to Street’s snores, looking over to see him in an awkward looking position on the chair. You sigh, rolling your eyes, groaning softly as his snores echo through the room. You look over at the table beside your bed, reaching for your phone once you notice it. As the screen lights up you see a text from Rocker.

Rocker: I cleaned up your apartment. It’s all ready for you when you get discharged. And I set up some blankets on the couch. I’m staying there until we catch the rest of the cartel members, and I don’t wanna hear anything from you about how I don’t have to. I’m not letting this happen again.

You smile softly as you read the text, replying a quick ‘okay’ before setting your phone down, knowing that arguing would be pointless. A few minutes later, Street wakes up, looking over at you and smiling softly, sleep still in his eyes.

“Morning. How are you feeling?” he asks, closing his eyes again, yawning loudly.

“It still hurts a little, but these pain meds are helping,” you joke, sitting up slowly. “When can we go?”

“I’ll go get the doctor. She said we can leave today. We’ll probably just have to fill out some forms or something.” he tells you, standing up, stretching.

You nod as he walks out the door, smiling again as you think about Rocker’s text. As quick as your smile appears, it disappears. He’s staying at your house. For God knows how long. While his protectiveness has your heart beating loudly in your chest, it could also very much be credited to the nervousness you feel from having him in such close quarters.

Later that day, Rocker pulls into your apartment’s parking lot before jogging around to the other side of his truck, opening your door for you and grabbing your arms to help you get out. Rocker told Street he would drive you back to your apartment, Street hesitantly agreeing because he knew driving you home on his motorcycle wasn’t really an option. You thank Rocker softly, feeling two arms wrap around your waist, one Rocker and one Street’s, both of them trying to help you walk inside.

“I got shot in the side, my legs still work,” you tell them softly, rolling your eyes at their focused expressions.

“Yeah. You got shot. And you’re gonna accept our help for the next few weeks until you heal.” Rocker says seriously, careful of your wound as they lead you to your apartment.

They guide you to your couch, sitting you down softly before backing up, making sure you’re still okay.

“Okay…I guess I’ll go…” Street says, looking between you and Rocker, noticing that Rocker wasn’t moving, feet firmly planted in the middle of your living room.

“And Rocker?” he says, eyes narrowing as they meet each other’s gaze, finger pointed at his chest, “Don’t fuck my sister.”

Your jaw drops at his words, face growing hot as you look between them. Rocker’s reaction is similar to yours for a moment, before it’s quickly replaced by a neutral expression.

“She just got out of the hospital, Street. I’m not that big of a douchebag,” he says sarcastically, glancing over at you to give you a wink.

“I’m serious,” Street says, eyeing you.

“It’s not gonna happen, Jim, I promise. Thank you. I love you. I’ll be fine.” you tell him, your arms making a shooing motion.

He puts his hands up in surrender, backing up towards the door. Telling you he’ll check up on you later before leaving.

It’s a long few weeks as you slowly recover, Rocker refusing to leave your side, keeping his word and sleeping on your couch every night. He talked to Hicks, both agreeing that a uniformed officer would stay outside your door while Rocker was at work, making sure nothing further happened to you.

It was hard to be in your apartment at first. Many nights involved waking up with tears in your eyes, clutching your side as you relived what had happened. Each time you woke up, Rocker was already at your side, shirtless and hair messy, hearing the sounds you made in your sleep. He would softly brush the hair out of your face, whispering that he was there, that he would protect you. If you weren’t so scared, you would’ve noticed his bare chest, and the soft look in his eyes as he calmed you down.

One day he came back to your apartment from work, a large grin on his face as he walked over to you sitting on the couch, kissing your forehead.

“We got them,” he tells you, “All of them. They’re all in prison. You’re safe.”

“I was already safe, Rocker. You made sure of that as soon as I came home.” you tell him, smiling.

You had gotten used to his company. The longer he was there the less flustered you got around him, his presence only really affecting you when he really laid on the charm.

“Yeah, but now you really don’t have to worry about them again.” He says happily, sitting down beside you on the couch, leaning back as he lets out a long sigh, finally feeling a weight off his shoulders.

“I guess that means you can go home.” you say softly after a few moments of silence, sadness in your eyes. You had liked him before this happened, but now, your feelings have increased tenfold. And he felt the same. He loved coming home to you, making sure that you were okay, he didn’t wanna give that up. You both really didn’t want him to leave, but it made no sense for him to stay, and you both knew that.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” he says, a hint of sadness creeping into his voice as the realization hits him. “Hey, didn’t the doctor clear you for work? When are you going back?” he asks, trying to distract himself from the idea of leaving your apartment.

“Mhm, I go back in 3 days. I’m excited to get back to it,” you tell him as he nods, eyes unfocused as he tries to burn the feeling of being in your apartment into his brain. Sitting on your couch with you, both comfortable in each other's presence.

“I’m gonna go make dinner. Pasta?” he asks after a few minutes pass, standing up and looking at you. You nod, smiling softly as he goes to the kitchen, sighing as you think of what it would be like to have him here all the time, not just when he feels the need to protect you from the cartel.

You walk into SWAT headquarters with a smile on your face, waving at your coworkers as you pass them, happy to finally be back. Making your way to your office, Street jogs up to you, lightly putting an arm around your shoulders, still wary of your wound, even though it has pretty much healed by now.

“Glad you’re back, sis. I was gonna throw you a welcome back party, but Rocker said you’d kill me,” he teases, squeezing your shoulder lightly.

“And he was right. I’m glad you didn’t,” you tell him, fighting back a smile as you both walk into your office, sitting down.

As you and Street continue talking, Rocker walks in, a smile on his face once his eyes land on you.

“It’s good to see you back in here, sweetheart.” he says, winking, leaning up against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You need something, Rocker?” you tease, turning to look at him, giving him a smile.

“As much as I’d love your help on this new case, I’m not asking you for anything else. I’m not putting you at risk again.” he tells you seriously.

“I told you, it wasn’t your fault, it was my mistake. I’ll help with anything you need, you know that.” you tell him, matching his tone.

“Not taking any chances. Now I’ll just be in here to catch up, tell you how pretty you look,” he says, smirking as his eyes scan your soft frame.

Your face grows hot as you look down, fighting back a smile.

“Get back to work, Rocker.” you say softly, turning your chair back to Street, hearing Rocker say a quick goodbye before walking to the locker room.

“Maybe I was wrong about him,” Street whispers, looking over at you, smiling softly as he notices the way Rocker’s words are affecting you, “He’s a good guy for you.”

“Yeah?” you ask in disbelief, your eyes widen as he says this, lips parting in surprise.

“Yeah. He really cares about you. He stayed with you for weeks to make sure you were okay. I thought that maybe he was just flirting with you for fun, that he was just leading you on. But he clearly likes you,” he tells you sincerely, hand coming up to rest on your shoulder. “I give you my blessing.” he jokes, patting your shoulder gently.

Your laugh, raising a brow. “Your blessing? I didn’t realize this was the 1800s,” you tease.

“Yeah, but I know you were holding back because of what I said. I don’t think you should.” he tells you, standing up from the chair beside yours, slowly walking towards the door. “Tell him how you feel!” he says loudly, winking at you. He turns, walking away, leaving you alone in your office laughing softly.

You think for a moment, biting your lip as you try to figure out what to do. You can’t just tell him you like him. Sure, you let him flirt with you, and sometimes you muster up enough courage to say something flirty back, but you can’t tell him. The thought of him rejecting you was too much, and even if you knew he wanted you, you’d still be too scared to say the words.

Little did you know, Street had left your office and went to find Rocker, which led to a weird conversation about you and Rocker’s relationship, and Street’s “blessing.”

You tense as you hear a knock on your door that night, slowly making your way to your door. You sigh in relief as you see Rocker through the peephole, opening the door and motioning him to come inside with a small smile on your face.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as he comes in, running a hand through his hair as he turns to face you. You shut the door, spinning around to look up at him, brows furrowing as you see what you swear is nervousness on his face.

“Do you want me?” he asks quickly. He had written a whole speech in his head on the drive over, but now that he was standing in front of you, that’s all he could say.

“What?” you whisper, not knowing what else to say, feeling your heartbeat quicken and breath catch in your throat.

“God, I’ve wanted you for so long. Do you know how much it hurts to see you every day at work? Not able to do anything but stare at you? Flirt with you? But only when I needed something, because Street would skin me alive if I did anything more than that? God, you drive me crazy.” he tells you, stepping closer to you, your back almost touching your front door as you stand there, stunned.

“I-” you whisper, trailing off, letting out a shaky exhale as his gaze burns holes into you, feeling the heat radiating off of him

“Just say yes. Please,” he practically begs, hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to pull you into him and run his hands down your body.

“Yes,” you breathe out, immediately feeling his hands grip your hips, pulling you into a rough kiss as your hands move up to his chest.

You whine slightly as he pushes you backwards, your back hitting your front door, your arms quickly moving to wrap around his neck. One of his hands moves up to your jaw, tilting your head up more as he deepens the kiss, his hips slowly grinding into you, forcing a moan out of your mouth.

He smiles into the kiss as you moan, the hand holding your jaw trailing back down your body, moving both hands to the backs of your thighs.

“Jump,” he whispers against your mouth, bending down slightly.

“Don’t wanna crush you,” you whisper, pulling back from his lips, looking up at him, breathing heavily.

“Sweetheart, look at me. I’ll be fine.” he teases softly, a cocky expression on his face. Not wanting to wait for you to jump, he instead roughly grabs your thighs, pulling one of your legs up to rest on his hip before forcing your other foot off the ground, wrapping your other leg around his waist as you shift your weight.

You squeal softly, giggling as he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall again. He wastes no time in finding your lips again, pressing against you as his hands squeeze your thighs.

Your hands find his hair, weaving through them as you kiss him back, tightening your legs around his waist. He can’t get enough of you. The feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around his waist, how they feel in his hands. The way your chest and tummy feel against him. How your lips feel against his.

Suddenly, one of his hands travels up your back, pulling you off the wall as he turns, before it trails back down to the back of your thigh.

You pull back from his lips as he moves, turning to look at where he’s going. You bite your lip as he makes his way to your bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this, sweetheart.” he whispers in your ear, placing a soft kiss under your ear before throwing you on the bed.

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mediumgayitalian · 6 months ago

Text

The satellite dish at Camp Half-Blood would be better suited as a cereal bowl.

It hardly works. It catches a grand total of nineteen channels, twelve of which are news stations, and the final seven almost never have anything playing that’s actually worth watching. But the DVD player only ever works every third month, and the strawberry plants have to be watered, so on rainy days, the sixteen of them cram into the rec room of the Big House, organised, fight-reduction seating for as long as Nyssa can tiredly maintain it, and squabble over the remote.

“It’s my turn! Give it to me!”

“Quit whining you little twerp —”

“Will! Make her give me the remote!”

“Snitch! Snitch! Sherman, beat him up —”

Nico narrowly dodges Kayla’s dirty sneaker, sniggering to himself as Will and Sherman share, for perhaps the first time in either of their lives, an identical sigh of endless suffering, each grabbing one sibling and yanking backwards. They’ve really dug their claws in, so it takes a couple tries.

“Kayla,” Will warns, both hands clamped around her ankles, “if you don’t let go in three damn seconds —”

“Ellis sucks at picking channels!”

“Everybody sucks at picking channels! We got maybe four to choose from!”

“Seven,” correct several people at once.

Will rolls his eyes. “Forgive me. I forgot about the three toddler channels the rest of y’all babies are so enthralled by.”

“As if you don’t watch Sesame Street with as much childlike glee as the rest of us, Solace.”

“Can it, Diaz. Kayla, remove your nails from his face!”

A hand tugs on his sleeve. Nico glances over to find Austin’s big, pleading eyes, and since he is a massively weak loser, apparently, he sighs, mouth twitching when Austin wiggles happily, and plunges his hand into the nearest shadow.

He digs around for a second, trying to orient himself, and smirks when he sees his hand reappear across the couch, right in between Kayla and Ellis’ heads. He waits, watching for a break. Austin watches carefully next to him, hands still around his other wrist, and when the timing is right — a twitch in Kayla’s knee indicating an oncoming kick that even Will won’t be able to stop — he squeezes. Nico darts between them, snatching the remote for himself. He passes it to Austin with a wink. Austin points it to the TV immediately, clicking it to what everyone has aptly named the ‘Grandma Channel’ — twenty-four-seven footage of gardening set to quit jazz.

Thirteen groans — one cheer by Miranda, their lone ally — sound at once.

“You’re weak as all hell, di Angelo,” Billie informs him, obviously a fake gardener. Shame.

He makes a face at her.

Despite their troubles, the peace of the Grandma Channel does not last. In what can only be a coordinated attack, Nico and Austin are lulled into a false sense of security, entranced by a particularly satisfying timelapse of a grape vine, and when their guards are down, they are ambushed. With a deafening war cry, Harley is flung bodily on top of the two of them, landing with two gleeful elbows to Nico’s shoulder and Austin’s ribs, rendering them breathless and perhaps even close to death.

“No maiming,” Austin protests, wheezing.

“I’m telling Chiron,” Nico agrees, similarly struggling to reinflate his lungs. He glances at his medic boyfriend, also known as Judas, who only shrugs, smirking. His thumb is notably smeared with grease, a consequence of touching Harley no matter how many times Nyssa forces him to shower. Traitor. “No maiming is, like, the only rule here.”

Harley climbs off of them, elbows once again violating the rule on the way off. Nico actually feels his spleen compress into the size of an atom.

“Tough!”

The little twerp hands his prize to his big sister, who points it at the screen gracefully, as if she did not just use said brother as a weapon against two innocent people. Constantly innovative, those Hephaestus children.

Nyssa, on account of having hands like steel wires and a right hook that could make Muhammad Ali fall crying to his knees, is left peacefully alone with the remote. Nico glares at her, as he often does, with equal amount of hatred and awe. His emotions are widely replicated across the overstuffed couches.

She clicks rapidly through the channels, as she always does, fast enough that the sound echoes like static along with the rain.

breaking — jump! — traffic — learn — George — crayon — soil — sale —

She hardly rests in a channel for more than a second, cutting in the middle of sentences and even words, images flashing rapidly across the screen, swirling colour and skipping melodies, steadied by the roll of thunder, the patter of raindrops, the roar of wind and away of bending trees.

kids! — buy — gun — bridge — add — spade — colour — nine — east —

Austin sighs from beside him, sinking into the couch. Nico breaks away from the hypnosis for a moment to glance at the rest of the room and finds everyone else similarly entranced; eyes half-lidded and unfocused against the still-swirling TV, heads tilted back, curled into each other, limbs slow, fingers tapping quietly.

run — neat — rose — pasta — schools — closure — Sola — bumper —

“Wait,” Will murmurs.

gym — roll — climb — bush — accident — bud —

The old couches creak as Will shifts, Kayla pushed gently to the side as he moves forward.

“Nyssa, wait. Go back.”

The rain seems to mute itself. Nico is aware, quite suddenly, of the stiff set to Will’s spine, the odd quality of his voice. Nyssa, too, must recognize it, because she glances over at him, then slowly back to the TV, pressing the channel button once and setting the remote carefully on the coffee table in front of her.

No one grabs it.

“— terrible tragedy,” says a news anchor. “Unbelievably, really, Barbara, and something so sudden —”

“No,” Will says.

“Yes, Dave, always something you read about in old newspapers but never remember happens in real life —”

“No. No.”

He reaches for the remote but misses the first time, patting blindly on the table, and the second time, too, eyes glued to the bright screen. His hand scrabbles, nails digging on the old wood, increasingly desperately, but his eyes won’t move, face won’t pivot. Nico swallows, pushing back the sting of bile crawling slowly up his throat, the dullness in his ear, muffled like his ear is turned to a soundproofed wall. The hands he tells to reach over and hand the remote to Will don’t work.

“— almost makes me think of James Dean. That’s Naomi Solace, for those just tuning in, currently in critical condition from a head-on collision with a semi in Savannah, Georgia —”

Nico’s ears white out completely.

Will’s knees hit the floor.

———

#MORE IS COMING DO NOT LET ME FLAKE #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #camp half blood #solangelo #will solace angst #angst #emotional angst #my writing #fic #longpost

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adkawariatka · 6 months ago

Text

So it’s a follow up of my previous post. it’s Tim perspective on how Damian changed and his reactions to them.

Tim wos tired but that’s nothing new. He should have slept at least two hours at night, but what’s done is done. He sits at the kitchen table sipping his third espresso and watching his siblings. When Bruce enters he looks at those present and seems to count. Ha that might be needed Tim thinks. After third attempt of his murder by demon brat that’s expected. Speaking of demons… Tim hasn’t seen Damian outside patrol for quite long. Not that he is complaining not having constant threat to your life around is nice but demon still should be at manor. Maybe Tim missed something when he wos looking into his case for last two weeks…

-Does someone saw Damian in manor lately?

When no one answers the question Tim sits straighter. That’s bad news really bad news.

-he wos at patrol tonight but outside from that no.

Dick answers. Well it’s Sunday at 10:00 in the morning. It’s not impossible for Damian to go out but where? It’s not as he has any friends. Tim snorts to his thoughts. He imagined demon brat talking to other kids „incompetent idiots that’s not how you hold katana!!!”. So no he doubts that possibility. He can see Bruce’s jaw tighten in worry. Ok so they need to find the brat. Before they can get serious about any action they hear front doors open and Alfred greetings

-Good morning Master Damian

And the demon enters kitchen as if nothing wos wrong. As if going out of manor as 10 year old alone wos acceptable. He greets father then Dick and to his suprise him also. And tries to go to the living room but Bruce stops him by putting a hand on his shoulder.

- where were you?

Tim winces it sounds more as a growl than a perfectly civilized question. Bruce parenting skills are shit as always. He knows that it’s out of worry but still….

-I wos on a walk

Damian is perfectly calm. That’s good. Tim is too tired for furious demon right now.

- who give you permission to go out without supervision?

And Damian watches him carefully. Tim can see him taking slow deep breaths. Huh, weird.

-you told me to make friends so I am working on it.

Tim almost spits his coffee. Working on making friends!? He hopes that any children that Damian chased with his katana are unharmed.

- you shouldn’t go out without anyone knowing where you are going. You need permission

-I am not a kid I can take care of myself!

There is the demon that Tim knows.

-it’s not a matter of being a kid or not. I need to know where you are as your guardian I am responsible for your safety

-tyt it’s pretty clear that I can protect myself

-but in this family you don’t need to. We have different rules.

And Tim saw something that he never saw before. Damian hestitated. Took a deep breath and asked like a civilized human being without anger or insults

- then if I inform you where I am going and when I will be back I can go?

Tim can’t believe it. Demon brat is… talking. With words like normal human being. Tim checks his coffee. He really needs to sleep more. Halucinations are bad sign.

But sleeping didn’t change the fact that Damian acted weird. After school and patrols he disappeared for „walks”. Tim knew something wos going on. But Bruce let it go. Damian started to inform him where he went and for how long and it actually checked. Dick even checked his location and everything lined up. But that wosnt the end of strange behaviors from Damian. The demon brat often glanced at Tim when they were in the same room. Not stared but glanced trying to be subtle. Well like for assassin training he wosnt so stealthy as he probably thought. Tim expected another attack soon. He started to carry battarangs with him around the house. when he started doing that and Damian caught on he did even weirder shit.

Imagine one evening when they were all in the living room and Damian enters. Of course with his katana that he keeps with himself at all times in the manor becouse Bruce forbidden him outside of hause and procedes to lock eyes with Tim and leaves his weapon near the door. Tim is staring at Damian as if he grew second head and he isn’t the only one.

From that time whenever Damian is in the same room as Tim he leaves his katana close to the door. Tim smells a trap. Whatever the brat is doing it can’t be good. Even if that gesture is kind of reassuring…. Tim is no fool. He will not be swayed by nice words or acknowledgment of his work or even leaving weapons outside of range of Damian’s hand.

One day after patrol, when Tim started to get ready for going to his room. To work of course, becouse the sharp eyes of Alfred didn’t leave him for a moment and distracted him from his case. He realised he is not alone. Damian followed him like shadow. Tim didn’t speed up his walking to not let the demon realize that he knew about his presence. Slowly he closed fingers around his batarang to make sure he will par first blow of katana. They were before Tim’s room when Damian started to speak

- Drake can we talk?

That sounded off. Damian didn’t talk he stabbed. More often Tim than anything else. But he sounded hestitant…. Well he has a weapon and when they enter his room they will be on his ground. He will know environment and hidden weapons there. He will have huge adventage when the fight will barek out.

-Sure why not

Tim let’s them in. He allows Damian to enter first. That way he has his back to Tim it’s safer that way. When the door closes Damian turns around Tim grips batarang in his pocked and waits for the start…. And nothing. Damian stands in the middle of his room locks his eyes with Tim’s and glances at his hand in his pocked. In the well lighted room it’s no mistakening that shape for anything different than a weapon. And then his guest procedes to holds his hands up palms to Tim in universal sign of no violence. Tim is dumbfounded. Damian clears his throat and starts:

- Drake I have been doing some reaserch… and it turned out I wos…. Misinformed. My past actions towards you were caused by my lack of knowledge and I shouldn’t have attacked you. I will not repeat that mistake again. I mean no harm to you…. Anymore

- What? Misinformed?! You stabbed me! Multiple times!

- I am aware Drake And I…

- no if you think that I will buy this story then You are delusional and

- I am sorry Timothy!

Damian cut him off. And Tim shut his mouth and looked at Damian. Really looked. He wos fidgeting and he actually flinched when he raised his voice. He stared at the floor and squized his hand so hard that it must have hurt. Tim stared in shock.

- Holy shit you are serious

Damian raised his gaze at Tim. And nodded. For once he looked as 10 year old boy. God Tim wos a dumbass. Damian WOS 10 years old. And lately he tried to be non-threatening towards Tim. Every weird action linked into a pretty clear picture. it looks like Damian finally realized his actions were wrong and came to Tim…. And Tim shouted at him.

- I ok let’s make things clear you realized you were wrong after what 8 months of leaving under one roof together? And…

Damian started to shrink in on himself and Tim stopped himself shit he wos doing it wrong. He crouched to be at Damian’s eye level and started again.

- No sorry first things first thank you for telling me. I appreciate the gesture. And lack of weapons for last month… It’s good to know you won’t try to kill me anymore. I don’t think I can just forget of what you did but… we can try to work it out. What do you say?

-that sounds reasonable Timothy.

Wow its so weird to agree with the brat… no Damian. Wait did he call him by his name!? While Tim wos trying to organize his thoughts Damian murmured something that caught his attention, that probably wosnt for Tim to hear.

-he wos right…

- It wos draining patrol I won’t take more of your time Drake. Good night

-who wos right?

Tim wosnt going to let that go. Someone talked Damian into doing this and he needs to know who. Dick wos unsuccessful in teaching Damian in basic human interactions. So must be someone outside. Bruce is too much emotionally conspirated, maybe Alfred. If yes then there is no reason to worry. But someone from outside could have hidden goals. It wos dangerous. Damian seemed suprised by his question but did not hestitate.

- My friend

And wosnt that a mistery. Tim needed to check that „friend” no matter what. He could be using Damian or plotting to hurt Wayne’s. But he wosnt going to let his suspicion break just created string of trust with his younger brother. He will check that stranger on his own in a way that Damian won’t realize. For know that wos enough. Damian wos opening the doors to go to his room when Tim added

- what happend to Timothy?

Damian slammed the door in his face. And Tim burst out laughing. He wos not going to let that go.

#dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp #tim drake #bruce wayne #dick grayson #league of assassins #siblings #family bonding #trust #trust issues #danny phantom #danny fenton

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