#hack Real Racing 3

[milksnake-tea]

━━ duty calls.

Created around the same time and having trained with one another, you and Casper have always butted heads. You'd compete over seemingly anything - how many souls one could reap, the days one could go without catching soul sickness, and the list goes on. Casper has always found you to be obnoxious, but when he sees you crying by yourself, he finds himself torn.

grim x gn!reaper!reader

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, set before the main storyline, reader is NOT the mc, brief mentions of child death, USAGE OF GRIM'S REAL NAME, reader is a little shit

word count: 4.2k

a/n: FORGIVE ME IF THE WORLDBUILDING IS OFF I WAS TRYING MY BEST and ive only done one ending oops (finals hurts okay :((( ) also ... im not sure if reapers names are classified just to mortals and not other reapers but ykw imma take my liberties

"Seriously, do you ever get tired?"

Casper groaned irritatedly, running a hand through his snow-like hair. Blood like rust coated his scythe, spoils from his most recent hunt. The corpse still lay fresh in front of him, but their skin was cold and their eyes dead.

Boisterous laughter erupted above him. Sitting on the balcony of some person’s apartment, you grinned down at him - that infuriating, shit-eating grin that never failed to tick him off.

You kicked your legs childishly as you leaned back over the railing. Nestled against the crook of your arm was a scythe similar to his own, save for the more detailed design and color palette. Unlike him, you would constantly say, you liked to live a little.

Bold words coming from a bringer of death.

“Don’t blame me for you being slow,” you called down to him. Casper rolled his eyes, crossing his arms as he glared up at you.

“I am not ‘slow’,” he grumbled. “You’re too eager. And get down from there, you’ll be spotted.”

You tilted your head. “It’s like, 3 A.M. What kind of idiot’s gonna be awake at this hour?”

“You’d be surprised. Humans will do anything but take care of themselves.”

“I guess,” you sighed, jumping down. You twirled your scythe absentmindedly, Casper leaning back to avoid getting hacked to pieces.

“Be careful with that,” he scolded. You, of course, ignored him.

“So are these the last of the guys?” you wondered, kicking at a corpse with your foot.

The alleyway was practically lined with bodies, so many that management had called upon both you and Casper to deal with the remnants of the massacre. Gang fights were a pain to deal with, second only to pandemics and war.

“It would seem so.” Casper gave you a look, to which you responded by sticking out your tongue. You were very mature, after all.

You stretched thankfully, rolling out your shoulder. “Thank God, I was starting to get depressed from all the dead people.”

“If you’re getting depressed from just this, perhaps you should consider a different career choice.”

“Nah.” You smiled. “If I left, who would I bully? You’d get all sad and lonely without me.”

“Hardly,” Casper scoffed. “If anything, I’d be relieved.”

“You wound me.”

“Good.”

“So mean,” you pouted. Casper paid you no attention, as per usual. It didn’t matter, though, since you immediately perked back up. “Hey, boo?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“I have an idea.” And just like that, your cheshire grin returned. Casper sighed, already beginning to walk off.

“How wonderful,” he said sarcastically. “Share it with someone else.”

“Uh-uh, no.” As quick as a flash, your scythe was out, the blade curving in front of Casper to prevent his escape. “This one’s good, I swear.”

“Your definition of what is and isn’t a good idea needs some desperate fixing.” Still, he made no move to escape, instead turning around to face you.

“Let’s race.”

Casper raised a brow. “Race?”

You nodded eagerly, your eyes shining like jewels. In the darkness of the alleyway, the two of you were illuminated only by the neon blue lights of the city. Yet, as that same blue was captured in your eyes, Casper was reminded of a kaleidoscope, changing and turning in a multitude of different colors.

It was… captivating.

“If I win, you have to buy me a drink.” 

Casper snapped out of his daze, a light flush blooming across his fair skin. Thankfully, though, you didn’t seem to notice, too entranced by another one of your ridiculous competitions. Seriously, there had to be a limit to how unprofessional you could be.

“You assume I have the time to buy you one,” he said with faux calmness, grateful for the night’s shadows hiding his complexion. You huffed.

“You could do it while you’re rebalancing yourself,” you said, as though it was obvious. “Besides, it doesn’t have to be anything big, just a coffee or a tea would be nice.”

“Fine, let’s say I stoop down to your level and agree to this… race,” said Casper. “What do I get if I win?”

You shrugged. “Then I'll just buy you a drink.”

Casper shook his head. “I’m not like you. I don’t drink on the job.”

“But you do cuddle an axolotl plushie when you sleep,” you pointed out. Instantly, Casper flushed red.

“Wha- What does that have to do with anything?!” he protested.

"I just thought about it randomly," you shrugged. "But seriously, that thing is huge, where did you get it?"

“Never mind how I got it," Casper crossed his arms and averted his eyes, his bottom lip turning up in a pout. “We’re getting off track.”

“Oh, so now you care about my games,” you teased. “Anyways, on how I’ll reward you…”

You spun your scythe back to your side, tapping its staff against the ground as you thought of a fitting reward.

“Oh! How about this?” You snapped your fingers, a figurative light bulb lighting up next to you. “You get to cash in one favor from me.”

“Any favor?” A smirk creeped onto Casper’s face, his interest finally piqued. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing, [Name].”

“As long as it’s within reason and isn’t embarrassing,” you snapped, crossing your arms. “If you make me kiss your feet or something like that, I’ll kick your ass.”

“Of course,” Casper chuckled knowingly. “So, where to and when are we racing?”

“Hey, if you weren’t paying attention to the rules, then that's your fault. As for when the race starts, how about… now.”

“Wha- Hey!” Casper barely dodged as you shot past him in a blur of black. Hooking your scythe into the walls, you stuck out your tongue at him as you propelled yourself through the night.

“So long, Casp!”

Casper cursed under his breath. Quickly, he made haste to follow you. He flew through the air like a bird, twisting around light poles, skyscrapers, and billboards alike.

You weren’t as elegant, instead jumping from building to building like a modern superhero. You’d catapult yourself through the sky using your scythe as leverage, your laughter echoing in the slumbering city - free like the wind.

Casper didn’t have to follow you long to know where you were heading towards. Invisible to the mortal eye, yet painfully obvious to the eyes of reapers, was an entrance to the Underworld, a whirlpool of black and red that led straight down to your home.

As you launched yourself into the air once again, Casper came up next to you, his hair billowing in the cold night wind like smoke.

“Nice of you to join me,” you teased, elbowing him in the side. Casper rolled his eyes once again, speeding up. “Hey!”

Smoky tendrils of crimson and ink curled around your figures as the two of you neared the portal. The center of the whirlpool was a void seemingly leading to the abyss itself, but you’ve worked in this job long enough to know just what lay beneath.

True to his character, Casper wasted no time and shot straight into the thick of it. You, on the other hand, were a little more dramatic with your landing.

You spun in a backflip off of the last of the skyscrapers before letting gravity take you for a ride. Wind whistled past your ears as you fell, yet all you could hear was the rapid thump of your own heart. Adrenaline filled your veins. Soon, black and red lined your vision as the Underworld engulfed you.

The second you saw the tips of red-stained towers, you flipped yourself to face the ground. Closer and closer, you could practically taste it. If you delayed any longer, your life as a grim reaper could end prematurely.

Like the eyes of a devil, your pupils glowed in delight, activating your abilities. But rather than slowing your descent, you sped it up, shooting towards the ground like a missile.

Black blobs, the fuzzy images of your coworkers, scrambled to move out of your way. Turning your body, you landed hard on your heels, narrowly missing a fellow reaper.

For a moment, all you could see was dust. Before the clouds could disappear, you shook off the sting in your ankles and stretched.

“Woo!” you cheered, kicking your leg. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

“Quiet down.” Casper grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back. “Honestly, is there ever a quiet moment with you?”

You giggled. “Boo, you’ve known me long enough to know the answer to that. Oh, by the way, I’m craving some-”

“Hold it.” Casper bonked your head. “I only agreed to buy you something if you won.”

“Didn’t I?”

“No you didn’t,” Casper retorted. “Anyone with working eyes could see that I reached the ground before you did. Therefore, I won.”

“Uh, no.” You crossed your arms. “Are you gaslighting me? You’re gaslighting me. That's not very nice of you, Casp.”

“I am not gaslighting you.” Your white-haired coworker rolled his eyes. “As grim reapers, we cannot lie. Someone of your caliber should know this.”

You blinked innocently. “Did you just compliment me?”

Casper spluttered. “What in the world made you come to that conclusion?”

Taking a step forward, you leaned towards the reaper, a cheeky smile growing on your face. “You said ‘Someone of your caliber’. That means you think I’m capable.”

“You’d have to be a special kind of stupid to be incompetent after working as a reaper for so long,” Casper crossed his arms, fighting down the blush rising onto his cheeks. You were close, way too close. “Then again, I wouldn’t be surprised, seeing as how that was the only thing you heard from what I said.”

Heaving a sigh, he pushed you away with his finger.

“But don’t distract yourself from the fact that I won the race,” he said, a smug smirk replacing his exasperation.

“I was honestly trying to forget.”

Casper huffed, a pout forming on his lips. But the moment wouldn’t last long, as a ding sounded from both of your phones. When you checked it, you groaned when you saw a notification of unexpected emergency.

“Seriously?” you complained. “Overtime? Did a bunch of reapers die off or something? My soul’s going to get tainted at this rate.”

“Don’t complain.” Casper nudged you, but even you could see the irritation on his face. “It’s our job as reapers to reap souls on time, no matter what.”

“I guess. Still doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

“Agreed.” With a sigh, Casper summoned his scythe. “I must be off, now. See you on the other side, [Name].”

As he made his way back to the opening of the portal, his feet lifting off from the ground, a gloved hand reached out to grasp your chin. Gently, he guided you to look at him as he ascended.

“I look forward to cashing in on that favor.”

━

For as long as you could remember, things have always been this way.

Your earliest memory was of waking up to the crimson skies of the Underworld. Unaware and unknowing, you allowed yourself to be dragged around by older reapers, their voices blurring together in a droning buzz. Everything had gone by so quickly, and you struggled to keep up with it all.

If you were to say it bluntly, your first day felt like a fever dream.

But amidst the chaos, the tutorials, and the gifting of your first scythe, there was one thing that you remembered clearly.

“...Snow.”

Your mentor’s lecture halted at your voice, barely audible. They followed your gaze to a white-haired man, looking to be around the same age as you. Like a drowsy child, you lifted your finger and pointed at him, looking back to your mentor.

“He’s like snow.”

Their eyes softened by the tiniest bit, having seemingly realized that you were still disorientated. After all, in a sense, you had just been born.

“I suppose he is.” Putting a hand on your shoulder, they guided you away from the man. “Now, as I was saying…”

Their voice faded away into the background as the white-haired man noticed your gaze. He turned to look at you, his ruby-like eyes like blood speckles against the winter landscape. You stared at each other for only a few seconds before you turned to follow your mentor.

You quickly forgot the pretty stranger, but you would stay in his memories for quite a while before you’d cross paths again. In the darkness of the Underworld, you were like a lantern - radiating warmth and familiarity.

You were beautiful, like a flower in summer. That was, until he met you for the second time.

Swiftly and ruthlessly, holding true to your occupation as a reaper, you cut apart any premonitions he had had about you. When you were put against him to spar by your mentors, the drowsiness had worn off - instead replaced by insufferable audacity.

As your scythes clashed, sparks flying between the two of you and burning him in the process, your mouth just wouldn’t stop moving, stop talking. The innocently sleepy look on your face was replaced with a shit-eating grin as you blocked his attacks, trapping him in a frenzied dance.

“What’s wrong, boo?” you laughed, twirling your scythe to drive him back. “Don’t tell me you’re getting tired already.”

Casper’s eyebrow twitched at the nickname; you wouldn’t stop calling him that ever since you learned his real name. He didn’t understand where it came from, but just the way you said it was enough to annoy him.

“Hardly,” he scoffed, his boots kicking up dust as they skidded against the ground. He was quick to lunge back at you, his movements precise as he swung his blade. “If anything, I’d wager that you’re the one tiring out.”

“Ha!” You ducked under his attack and sprung forward, Casper’s hair tickling at your face as you came nose to nose with him. Startled, Casper had no time to react as you slammed the end of your scythe’s staff into his chest.

Before he knew it, Casper’s back was against the ground, your boot on his chest, and your scythe at his neck.

Your breaths were heavy as you looked down on him, but your eyes glowed with triumphant victory. The fight may have been more exhausting than you’d like to admit, but the view you had was well worth the effort.

Beneath you, Casper struggled to catch his own breath, his chest heaving under the soles of your foot. His white hair splayed around him like a halo, and his face was tickled pink from the fight.

Even in defeat, he was beautiful.

You leaned forward, putting your weight on your knee. Casper grunted as you pressed harder on him. Just for the fun of it, you pressed your scythe’s blade against his chin and guided him to look up at you and your grin.

“I win,” you sang mockingly.

Casper groaned, letting his head fall against the floor. You laughed heartily, stepping off of him and instead extending your hand to him. Without a second thought, Casper took it, allowing you to pull him to his feet and dust him off.

“That’s what, victory number twenty-one?” you asked, stretching. “That means I’m in the lead now, Casp.”

“Whatever,” Casper scoffed, dusting off his chest where your foot had been. “I’m sure the score will even out in no time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you squinted at him. Casper stuck his tongue out at you.

“I don’t know, what does it mean?”

You hit his chest playfully. Casper grunted, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.

That’s how it had always been, after all. You and Casper would go back and forth in this tantalizing dance, exchanging jabs and jokes at the same time. 

To Casper, you were insufferable, but annoyingly capable. To you, Casper was way too serious and stuck up, yet had that charm about him that made you want to tease him at every possible opportunity.

But for many, many years, your relationship never went further than mere friends - if Casper even wanted to call you that.

━

The day Casper’s view of you changed was like a stormy sky - dark, yet light still managed to peek through.

You’d come back to headquarters with a solemn look upon your face. For someone who had just come back from a mission, you were oddly… clean. There wasn’t a trace of blood on your clothes, yet your eyes were dark, haunted. Even your scythe’s shine seemed dull.

For the reapers, to have someone normally so loud and full of life be reduced to this, was frightening. They’d grown used to your smile, your voice, your light. You parted crowds with your uncharacteristically serious aura; if there was anything a sensible reaper feared, it was the wrath of a joyous soul.

Immediately after turning in your report to headquarters, you disappeared from the public eye.

When Casper first heard the news, he had brushed it off. You were probably just having a bad day, he tried to assure himself. Maybe you’d finally realized the grimness that came with your profession. Maybe the soul you’d reaped was especially troublesome and gave you a run for your money.

Despite his attempts to make up explanations for your behavior, he couldn’t stop the worry from gnawing at his heart. It twisted in his chest like soul sickness, an ailment that he wasn’t used to nor did he understand. It even followed him into his work, plaguing his mind and distracting him as he reaped soul after soul.

He’d made haste to return home, knowing that this illness would only worsen if he stayed out.

The Underworld was always dark, but that day, the sky was pitch black. Eager to return to the comfort of his bed, he quickly made his way to one of the many apartment complexes in which reapers resided.

However, just before he opened the door to his room, his hand stilled at the sound of crying.

Now, sadness wasn’t an uncommon emotion in the Underworld. Ghosts, sinners, and demons alike wailed and screamed their woes into the night. Their cries were as common as the sound of rushing cars in a human city.

But not for reapers, especially in their home. Reapers, at their core, were cold, emotionless, and ruthless - they needed to be, in order to do their jobs properly. A reaper’s tears were rare, almost taboo.

The more Casper listened, he soon recognized a familiar voice among those sniffles: yours.

Could it be? He looked up to the rooftop, his hand wavering. His soul pulsed in his chest, warning him to ignore you and focus on himself. But his heart argued back.

Casper glanced once more at the doorknob to his room. Cursing himself, he heaved a sigh and walked away - moving towards the staircase leading to the rooftop.

As he emerged onto the rooftop, the first thing he noticed was how clear the sky was. Its crimson blanket was more like that of a rose’s rather than bloodstains, and if he squinted, he could perhaps delude himself into seeing a few stars.

Then came you.

Casper’s heart plummeted in his chest when he saw your form curled into itself. You sat at the edge of the rooftop, your knees pulled up to your chest and your face buried in your arms. Your back was to him, but Casper saw the way your shoulders trembled.

He tried to take a step towards you, tried to reach to you with his hand, but hesitated. What would he even say? What could he say? What could he do?

His thoughts halted when you took a deep, shuddered breath, your voice raw from cry.

“What do you want, Casper.”

Casper. Not Casp, not boo, not any of the annoying nicknames that you called him by.

“I…”

He stepped back, feeling fear for perhaps the first time in his life. For the first time, he was unsure of what to do.

You couldn’t see him, but you heard him walk away and descend the staircase. You laughed hollowly, wiping at your face with your hand.

“What was I even expecting…” you muttered bitterly, gripping at your own arms for support. “Why would he of all people…”

You shut your eyes tighter. Without the company of the sky and the city, you were left alone with your thoughts. Memories of what you had witnessed laughed in your mind, latching onto you like a parasite and refusing to let go.

You were never afraid of blood, nor of death, but today, just the thought of it made you nauseous.

Something soft nudged at your elbow. Blinking your eyes open, you warily looked to your side.

However, instead of seeing a person, you came face to face with a bright pink axolotl plushie.

You and the plushie stared at each other for a good minute, neither of you knowing what to make of the other. It wasn’t until you heard a familiar, exasperated sigh from behind the plushie that you realized what it was.

“Don’t just stare at him,” Casper mumbled, pushing the plushie against you. You blinked owlishly, before hesitantly taking the plushie into your arms.

Hugging it against your chest, you rested your chin on top of its head. The plushie was oddly warm, yet comforting. Casper sat beside you, silent and gazing up towards the sky. For a while, the two of you simply sat in this silence, with the only thing breaking it being your quiet sniffles.

“...She was just a kid,” you finally spoke, catching Casper’s attention and making him look at you. You, however, kept your gaze straight ahead to the city lines, refusing to meet his gaze. “She was just a little girl, and yet they… they…”

You hugged the plushie a little tighter.

“I just can’t understand how humans can be so cruel to each other.”

Casper’s gaze turned downcast. “That’s how they’ve always been. Life is cruel, even to the purest of souls.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Hardly anything is.”

“It shouldn’t have been her. It should’ve been that bastard that murdered her.”

“He’ll get what he deserves. Karma will catch up to him.”

“But what if it doesn’t? What if he gets let off?”

“He won’t.”

Unexpectedly, you let out a snort at Casper’s deadpanned voice - so assured and serious. Casper raised a brow, looking at you inquisitively.

“You know,” you said, raising your head. “You’re somehow really bad and really good at comforting people.”

“What?” Casper wrinkled his nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean it as an insult. Actually, that’s one of the things I like about you.”

“That I’m apparently a bad comforter?”

“No, silly.” You leaned your head on the plushie again, only this time you were looking at your coworker. “Your seriousness. How you’re always so confident in yourself. How even if you don’t know what you’re doing, you still try.”

Red bloomed across Casper’s face like a flowering blossom, reaching from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze.

“It’s not fair when you start saying things like that,” he mumbled. You giggled a little, leaning onto his shoulder with his plushie still in your arms.

“I’m just being honest,” you hummed. “Or maybe I’m coping. I dunno.”

Casper chuckled, but made no move to push you off him. You closed your eyes. The turmoil in your heart was still there, of course, but with Casper against you, it eased up just a little.

“Seriously though, thank you,” you said. “For coming up here for me and, well, everything.”

“It was nothing,” Casper replied. “You were looking pretty pathetic, all depressed and all.”

You huffed. “Just admit you care about me, Casp. Is that so hard?”

Casper grumbled something unintelligible, before lifting his arm. You squeaked as he wrapped it around your shoulders, pulling you closer against him. With your head laid against his collarbone, you could feel every breath he took as well as the rapid beat of his heart.

“[Name],” he said quietly. “Remember the favor you promised me? For winning the race?”

“Mm… yeah. What about it?”

“I’d like to cash it in right now.”

“Oh lord,” you chuckled. “Alright, what do you want?”

“Whatever happens next, don’t tell anyone,” Casper whispered.

Your lips curled into a smile. “You know, Casp, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were about to do something weird.”

You couldn’t see him, but you knew he was rolling his eyes.

“Be quiet for a moment, will you?”

You grinned. “Ah, but that’s two favors, not-”

Casper shut you up with a soft kiss to your head. It was brief, so quick that for a second you almost thought you had dreamed it.

In your stunned silence, Casper spoke again.

“Forgive me if I’m being greedy, but I’ll ask for a third favor,” he said. “No matter what happens, promise me you won’t deal with it by yourself.”

His grip around you tightened.

“Please.”

You nuzzled closer into the crook of his neck.

“...I promise.”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[cookie-crumblr]

Chubby F! Housewife Reader X M!Yandere Streamer OC Jasper

Part 3!

Part 1 Here!

MINORS DNI

CW: fem! reader, reader referred to as she/her, ML! Masturbation, HJ, pet names for reader(pretty, gorgeous, talks of creampies, live streamed torture, blood, gore, murder,

He sat and watched you at first, just watched.

Just like he promised himself.

That thought was thrown out the window the moment you laid over that chaise lounge, what a gorgeous sight you were. Your perfectly voluptuous body wrapped in a silken night robe, why wasn’t this a painting in his bedroom— Hell why not a mural on his ceiling that he could see every single night.

His hand is already in his pants, pulling out his long, pierced cock. He’s teasing the tip and playing with his metal ring. He can’t help but wonder if you’ve ever been with a guy that has their dick pierced… If you’ll be shocked.

Oh just imagining your little innocent housewife reactions to things like that has heat racing in the jet stream of blood that’s rushing to his dick.

“Fuck, gorgeous,” He wishes so badly you were with him.

How he’d fuck you up against this window so hard, your bare tits pressed up against the glass. Instead of staring at you down there, he’d be seeing your husband; shocked at his chubby little wife with her pussy spread wide, sheathing a man that can take better care of her. Best of all her elated expression at everything about it.

That’s the part that has pre mixing in with the lubricant, your expression. He wonders what you’d look like, brows hiked up, biting your lip.

“Oh f-fuck pretty, you’re so gorgeous” He wants you underneath him. Looking up at him with your pretty eyes, your arms hooked around his neck, legs locked around his mid section. He’s gonna fill you up so good. All the way to the brim and over.

He has at least some restraint… Oh~ the second he does fuck you, he’s going to be so pent up, he almost laughs maniacally at what he’s doing; edging himself to a pretty thing he “can’t” have.

~

You’ve been there for a while, and he’s been there watching you. He’s starting to really notice that something is wrong, even without knowing you for very long, he can tell you aren’t just napping anymore.

Jasper leaves for just a minute to collect a camera and cables from another section of the home before returning and setting it up facing you. He labels that one ‘sun room’ in his phone, and then heads out to his very conspicuously inconspicuous white van.

He’s gonna check up on someone real quick…

The tracker he put in your husband’s car pings him at an office building, but when Jasper hacks the security system his office is empty up there… Hmm, how curious indeed.

He calls your husband’s receptionist, and he tells Jasper that he’s in a meeting at the moment.

When he looks at the cameras to confirm it’s funny that he’s just not in the building anywhere visible at least.

He’ll just make a copy of your husband’s phone later. He’s got a feeling… Not all bad. He’s in a state of slight turmoil, on one hand he’d be ecstatic to find out your husband’s cheating or something else terrible so that he could swoop in, but at the same time, he’d rather you not get hurt.

He muses his hair frustrated as he contemplates problems and how to solve them.

For right now, he’s late for a livestream.

~

The clone he made of your phone lights up next to him, and he sees you typing a message. Before he can read it, he watches you erase it, and then it dims once more.

“Hey Y/N! hope you’re alright, what’s been up?” He texts you… Gods, he really shouldn’t have right after… That’s so suspicious! But, he’s so deathly curious! He wants so badly to know what was on your mind, and what you almost shared with him.

His heart thumps, and his face reddens. He puts his hand onto his fist as he waits for a response, watching both phones…

Nothing.

~

It’s been days.

The gnawing boredom has almost fully made its comeback, when your phone clone lights up on a table behind him, he isn’t looking.

“Count backwards from one hundred, everyone~”

“100”

“Fuck him up!!!”

“Can i have his underwear?”

“99”

“99”

“98”

“Oh shit! First time here! i cant wait!”

“Welcome! i hope you enjoy your stay!” his chat is zooming by in front of him, but Jasper is still able to pick messages out and reply to them individually.

“Mmmf! mmmmmmf!!!!” A man with some socks stuffed in his mouth screams and writhes against barbed and razor wire restraints.

Jasper removes the leather strap that was wrapped and tied around the man’s mouth and hits the back of his head to get him to spit the socks out.

Guttural screams fill the van, and the docks they’re parked at. Birds in flocks fly off at the sound.

“Hey Jasper, you got a text from your other phone,” Issac bounds over, dropping them both into his (kind of full) hands.

“Howdy Jasper! sorry i went on a mini vacation! what have you been up to?”

He stares for a second thinking about how he’s been watching you through your windows for the past, oh, little over a week. You definitely did not go on a vacation. But he won’t ask, he doesn’t want to make you think about excuses.

Dev.In clears their throat, knowingly.

“I have to go.” is his answer as he slits the man’s throat and stops the livestream.

Jasper jumps into the driver seat and steps on the pedal.

In his van he’s going so fast the metal is rattling as he practically rolls over on every turn through suburb. Issac constantly “weeee!’s” in the back. In mere minutes he makes it home, and into the house before you can see him.

You arrive as he’s leaned up against the door, heart pounding in excitement making him almost dizzy! It’s exhilarating, he might have to have more torture streams just to give him that added bit of fun to his evenings when he has to feign innocence for you.

You knock on the door, and he answers it instantly. Shit. He’s so stupid, he thinks to himself, hopfully you don’t suspect anything.

Right away he notices that your eyelid is slightly more closed than usual and that you’re wearing a touch more makeup than usual in that spot making it more suspicious.

His mind instantly goes to your husband.

That might just be him pushing his own agenda onto you, but he has to ask, “What happened? are you alright?”

[achilles-rage]

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.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

click here for my masterlist!

click here to be added to my taglist!

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[papaya-queen]

That’s what family feels like – F1A/F2/F3/F4 Prema grid

Y/n joins Prema’s F1 Academy team and discover what found family feels like.

<3

<3

Yourusername

Yourusername media done ✅ it was amazing meeting all my new teammates! Love you all and see you at the start of the season!

Comments:

User so excited for the Prema media!!!

User she actually seems so nice

Racerbia it was lovely meeting you <3

User The best team ever

Olliebearman Had an amazing filming experience with you! Wishing you the best season!

User Prema is really just a cool camp for racing kid

            Arvid.lindblad yeah exactly

            Dinobeganovic_ THIS IS REAL

            User they’re so funny 😭

Prema_team Welcome to the fam Y/N

<3

F1academy & yourusername

F1academy Y/N Y/L/N wins the first race of the 2024 season!

Comments:

User SO FREAKING HAPPY FOR HER!!!

Prema_team Our girl on fire 🔥🔥

               User Is that a hunger games reference?!

               User I think they’re referencing her hair color

Kimi.antonelli 👏👏

               User they’re so supportive of each other

User Y/N dominance could bore fans

User 4 freaking seconds ahead?! That girl is definitely the next Verstappen

<3

Prema_team

Prema_team All red on the podium for the first weekend! With a win from Ollie in F2, Dino in F3 and both Doriane and Y/N in F1A, podiums for Kimi, Arvid, Paul and Bianca, all our drivers tasted the champagne in Sakhir

Comments:

Racerbia The fire team >>>

User Prema dominance in every category in wild

               User Yeahh literally in F2, F3, F1Academy

               User Don’t forget the FRECA, Italian F4 and Italian karting

               User They’re everywhere I swear 😭

Dinobeganovic_ I could get used to that red on the podium

               Kimi.antonelli don’t forget our beautiful Italian anthem

               Yourusername yeah, we know Kimi

               Kimi.antonelli DID I TELL YOU HOW IT’S THE BEST IN THE WORLD

               Paularon_ I swear he’s more patriotic than Americans

User15 The Bear 🐻, The Dinosaur 🦖 and The Fox 🦊

               User16 Prema: the racing zoo

<3

Racerbia

Racerbia feeling the weekend

Tagged: Yourusername, Olliebearman, Kimi.antonelli, Paularon_ & 4 others

Comments:

Dorianepin best start of the season ever

User The Prema kids are partying 🔥🎉

               User I mean why wouldn’t they when they’re dominating every championship

Olliebearman party like this next weekend?

               Kimi.antonelli of course

               Yourusername every weekend is even better

User come on, we want to see the wasted pictures

               Paularon_ you’re NEVER getting those pictures

               Dinobeganovic_ (he’s embarrassed by the things he did while drunk)

Prema_team WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT THE ALCOLHOL??!

               User oooh admin is pissed

               Yourusername I swear to you that only the adults drunk

               Arvid.lindblad admin she’s lying

               Alexpowellracing can confirm

               Racerbia thanks idiots, now they’re going to kill us because of you

<3

Prema_team

Prema_team working with teens: a post

Comments:

Dinobeganovic_ we’re not THAT bad …

               Prema_team you hacked admins speaker to play despacito during a meeting

               Paularon_ don’t give him credits like that, it was me 😁

               User no way they really did that

               Alexpowellracing as a great would say “I HAVE IT, I HAVE IT PRINTED OUT”

               User Alex referencing toto, amazing 😭😭🤣

Racerbia bahahaha Ollie and Y/N sleeping

               Yourusername don’t laugh too much

               Olliebearman just remember what we have hidden in our phones

               User STOP TEASING US LIKE THAT

User I’m begging you admin release more behind the scenes pic

               Prema_team I’m doing the best I can (they’re threatening me as I type)

Dion.gowda I won that game actually

               Dorianepin of course Dion

               Kimi.antonelli We believe you Dion

               User they’re just too funny

<3

<3

Prema_team

Prema_team Kings and Queens of the season

F1A championship: Doriane Pin F1Academy champion, Biance P2, Y/N P3

F2 championship: Ollie F2 champion, Kimi P3

F3 championship: Paul F3 champion, Dino P2, Arvid P4

Comments:

User Having all your drivers in each championship top4 is really impressing

Ferraridriveracademy 👏👏

               Mercedesamgf1 we have 2 champions and not you 😝

               User not the academies fighting 😭

Yourusername don’t forget our amazing babies in F4 that dominated the top 5 of their championship

               Dion.gowda stop calling us babies

               Kean.nakamura.berta I’m literally a year younger than you

               Yourusername don’t care 😙

               Alexpowellracing I’ll take the compliment

User Prema dominance could never bore fans

<3

F1

F1 The best team award goes to Prema Racing winning constructor and driver championship in F2, F3, F1 Academy, FRECA and F4.

Comments:

Oscarpiastri Proud to say I was part of this team

Ferrari ♥️♥️

Maxverstappen1 Some bright future ahead for them

               Yourusername THE max Verstappen knows my existence and complimented me ?! brb I need to faint

               Arvid.lindblad she did faint

               User Y/N being real as always

Charles_leclerc proud of my son 🐻

               Olliebearman thanks papa :))

Mercedesamgf1 our kiddos are killing it 👏🖤

               User I’m gonna tear up, all the teams are so supportive!

Mclaren does anyone likes papaya?

               Racerbia 👀

               User IS THAT AN ANNONCEMENT?!!

               Landonorris you want to replace me admin? 🥺

               User not lando getting jealous 😭😭

Landonorris I'm happy for you, muppet kid

               yourusername don't make cry old man 😭

Lewishamilton I'm so amazed by my childrens

               Dorianepin aww thanks dad

               Kimi.antonelli grazie mille

Paularon_ I absolutly don't feel excluded because i don't have a grid dad

               Dinobeganovic_ same

               georgerusell63 well i'm always available

               User When did this post became an adoption center ? 😭

<3

Well, i really hope you liked it ! This was my biggest work ever, all those post were so much work 😭. Likes and reblog are always appreciated. Feel free to leave a comment or to correct any mistakes.

Bye Bye Babes !

[tempestuous-tempest]

Romancing Reginald "Wrench" Blechman

I've gotten an informal request for more Wrench headcanons this time, Romance ones. I have done romance in the past with one that was for more than just Wrench as well as one for an astronaut s/o. Here are my other Wrench headcannon lists; 1, 2, 3, 4.

Dates:

Improvised more often than not. He doesn't think to plan them out most of the time and so they are often spontaneous.

Going shopping at a Walmart just to get kicked out from riding shopping carts around the store or playing basketball in the toy isle or sword fighting with wrapping paper or sticks from the arts and crafts section.

Spray painting curse words and middle fingers all over bloom buildings and Haum. Hacking Albion drones and using em and cause some havoc.

Watching new action movies like Deadpool and Wolverine.

Scaling the Golden Gate or the London Bridge and harrassing locals by hacking their radios and changing their music.

Racing. Obviously. Especially if it ends up in a high speed chase.

Love Language(s):

Physical Touch is his most primary form of showing affection. He's clingly as all hell. Hand holding, hand around your shoulders, little sweet mask kisses that kind of hurt. Of course when you're in private the mask comes off a bit.

Quality Time is his secondary form. Spending time with you is something he enjoys. It can be as much as taking you on a date or as little as just standing near each other at his workshop.

Acts of Service falls in the middle. He likes pretending he can be a gentleman. Opening doors for you with a little "My lady/dude", fixing something you broke and put on the waiting list of things you need to fix later, and/or buying donuts and coffee for you in the mornings for breakfast. Be careful though, if you sleep to late, he'll sit there and eat em all himself.

Gift Giving. He'll probably tinker with some things and make a gift for you every once and a while. Gives him something to do. With his hands when you're not around and he cant just hold you. Sometimes he'll buy you things or if you

Words of Affirmation dont exactly stick with him. Anyone can say they love another and the words can be as hollow as bird bones. He doesnt like how empty the words can seem even if spoken with real love.

Bonus:

Expect pranks. Nothing harsh like "Oh I'm breaking up with you". Just something actually funny. Prank wars between you two are inevitable.

Absolutely throws a fit when he can't have your attention like a two year old in Walmart being told he can't get something he wants. He pouts when ignored.

[swaps55]

List five topics you could talk about for an hour without prepping any material. (No one tagged me, I just saw this and wanted to.)

Equine foot management, catastrophic injuries, and laminitis. I can throw in club feet and foal deformities for fun. There will be drawings. I will do a lot of yelling.

Parking structure design and technology. My friends are known to send me photos of parking structures. Once, on a romantic getaway once with Real Life Romance Option, I dragged him to three different parking structures. Including one at 9pm because it had a cool glass spider on the facade that was lit at night.

Mass Effect, any aspect, but inevitably there will be a focus on the individual identities of all 3 games, misogyny, the different lenses through which people who played at launch vs. today view the trilogy, the Mako and the power of the UNC worlds in Mass Effect 1, and of course, the ending. If you ask a question about Andromeda you will have regrets because this just became two hours and Real Life Romance Option is on his upteenth AND ANOTHER THING because about 8 seconds into the infodump he joined in.

The Kentucky Derby/Triple Crown, which will most assuredly involve me lauding my namesake, insisting Nashua is a hack, and reciting Secretariat's Belmont race call. Also pretty guaranteed I will wander into horse racing at large and cry a lot about Serena's Song and Rachel Alexandra. Don't ask me about Barbaro unless you want this to be a double feature with #1.

Planning a Walt Disney World vacation. I literally talked to my folks about this impromptu for an hour yesterday. I have spreadsheets. And I am actually making a power point on the subject right now. The first slide header says, "Swaps, why is there a power point." Top answer is, "because it's fun."

Please feel free to share yours. :D

[gossipgirlgasoline]

gossip girl here, your one and only source into the ultra-rich, scandalous lives of race car drivers of formula 1.

hi loves! our first post!!!! ahhh!!!!! foremost, happy race week in australia! oscar piastri, daniel riccardo, and notably valtteri bottas’ home race, of course. its been such a hard week without racing hasn’t it?? i know it has been for me. thankfully, racing is back in melbourne for the weekend<3

before i start, if ur not into truly gossipy stuff— THIS IS NOT FOR YOU!! this will go into territory of wag gossip, silly rumours, and other cheesy stuff like that. you have been warned.

onto this weeks gossip !!!

everybody knows 18-year-old prodigy ollie bearman, who made his f1 debut with scuderia ferrari just two weeks ago in the scrupulous circuit that is the jeddah corniche circuit filling in for carlos sainz jr, sick from appendicitis. (hopefully this doesnt cause another chain of events like a certain driver whos number is 23, knock on wood) the academy driver started 11th on the grid and finished in the points, all the way to 7th, despite being such a hard circuit and also having very little experience with real formula 1 cars.

what not everybody knows about is his girlfriend, estelle— formerly silly_lettuce on all social media. truly, she is gorgeous. a picturesque couple, no?

estelle ogilvy langinier manning, (allegedly) is 21 years old law student out of london. the couple ‘hard launched’ from ollie’s instagram story a couple months ago. (picture is from his instagram) from the crumbs ive picked up from my dear friends on insta and tiktok, ollie is not the only racing driver she’s ever dated. ive been hearing through the grapevine that she dated f2 drivers zak o’sullivan since they were neighbours in the past and has also been with franco colapinto, confirmed(? texts could be fake) by herself through a message thread on instagram.

aside from racing drivers, there has been more rumors of her being with a guy from boy band, as well as a finance man.

with a simple instagram search of ‘sillylettuce,’ you will get a video credited to her old account with her alleged ‘finance boyfriend.’ this search will also get you this picture on the left, uploaded by downtown.chix in december of 2020.

left picture heaves largely compared to the right, taken from an archived picture from her now deactivated instagram account. 🫡

if we bring out search back around tiktok and do another search of silly lettuce, you’ll be met with a video from user sunnymonday on tiktok, going by the name india rawsthorn. the video is a trend from 2021 ‘rating my friends dance moves’

estelle earned herself a spot in the video, sporting a very different look than. 🤨🤨🤨🤨

this is estelle— India has many videos of estelle on her account

some people think its plastic surgery, maybe a drastic weight loss journey. whatever it might be, this isn’t the only thing that raises a couple eyebrows since thanks to the very intrigued people of the internet, we have since found out she started studying at durham uni in 2018. unless she is a young sheldon type prodigy who started college at 11, this would mean she is 24/25 now.

shortly after people started finding out, she ‘coincidentally’ got hacked. yikes!

*i can confirm this one is real— i saw it in real time😭

if you try to look her account on tiktok and instagram up now, nothing will pop up. mm.. following the discovery of her age, she immediately (allegedly) changed her information on linkedin. 🤔🤔🤔 how do you guys feel about this? i have a theory right here from one of my mutuals from twitter.

“Wooooww Estelle is really going down the road of saying that "we're obsessed"

her obsession is finding someone famous, and potentially rich to climb the social ladder of fame

I'm not trying to shame her about her plastic surgery, but it's obvious that some type of touchup was done and there's nothing wrong with that but I get the sense that she's trying to hide that she isn't all natural when in reality there has been something drastically done”

what’s your guy’s opinions? leave them below😘 my inbox is always open as well as my dms, so if u ever need to talk or want to chat about my posts, hmu! (tips are always accepted too)

until next time race-watchers, xoxo, gossipgirlgasoline

[danosrosegarden]

request: drabble, reaction of eddie getting a big kiss on the cheek by enby reader while he sits in their lap and they stroke his hair kindly/relaxingly? :'3 he's just so..... also, thank you! - erwynne

At Least - Edward Nashton x GN!Reader Headcannons

Contains: nothing but fluff! (It has been a long time since I've been able to write that!)

Note: *hi Kevin voice* HIII ERWYNNE! I hope you enjoy, thank you for being my first new request!

♡ You can feel the air in the room sink and sigh drowsily as soon as Edward shuts the door behind him. He's been complaining about work each day after getting home, but today felt...different. Bags tugged hard at the flesh underneath his eyes, dusting an even deeper shade of exhausted violet onto the skin than usual. He's slumped even further down, and his tired sigh is even deeper, wearier.

♡ I can imagine him lumbering over to where you are on the couch, not wasting any time worming himself into your arms. He's had a bad day, but at least you're still here.

♡ "Something the matter, Eddie?" His response is raspy and muffled: "Just wanna lay with you."

♡ Your fingers lace themselves in his ruffled hair as you hum softly and he closes his eyes. Edward was a quiet man, but you knew there was so much racing through his mind. If only you could pick apart those pieces, hack off a couple chunks. If only you could dissect and place those wrinkles of his brain under a microscope. You wanted to know what was flowing through his blood. What was buzzing through that brain.

♡ Before him, you just supposed that love wasn't meant for you. You'd had "things" with people, but never anything real. But you'd found something with him you'd never thought you would find. Something that heated your cheeks with bubbling warmth each time you laid eyes on him. Something that released buzzing butterflies into your stomach when you peered into his eyes. Something that kickstarted your heart into slamming gear every time you held his hand or felt the warmth of his skin.

♡ It was intense, this feeling of love. That's what it was; you realized it as you continued to run your fingers through his hair. Love.

♡ Eddie looked up into your eyes as you planted a quick kiss on his forehead. You smiled at him, studying the different shades of green flakes scattered around his irises.

♡ "What's on your mind?" His eyes flitted away, and a cool pink sizzled on his cheeks. "Have I ever told you I love you?" You thought for a moment, shaking your head. "No, I don't think so."

♡ You couldn't quite describe the look that washed over his face. It was a warm smile of passion, it was solemn understanding, it was frosty regret for taking so long to admit it...it was a faithful promise to never let another day pass without declaring it.

♡ "I'm sorry, then. You know how much I love you."

♡ And you did. You felt in each squeeze he gave your hand while holding it, each time he accidentally stepped on your toes while dancing with you in the kitchen, each somber morning where he'd kiss you gently in bed before heading out for work.

♡ "I know you love me. I know you do. I love you, you know that?"

♡ You felt him nod into your chest. And that was all you needed. You sealed another kiss on his forehead. You dragged your thumbs along the soft skin of his cheeks, feeling the red bloom of heat on the pads of them.

♡ You were always going to be there. You'd be there whether he was broken and bleeding or dripping with joy. He was your Eddie. That's what mattered. Come as he is. Yes, he may have had a bad day, but at least you were there. That's what mattered. <3

[fixfoxnox]

I FINALLY GOT MY GRUBBY LITTLE HANDS ON SOAP'S JOURNAL!!!

Oh boy oh boy oh boy, guys there is so much in this bad boy that NO ONE has mentioned!! The SoapRoach content in here is off the walls!! Why is all I ever see the like 2 moments Soap mentioned Ghost??? There so much Roach and Price and Gaz content here, so here are some random bits from Soap's journal:

MW:

Embarrassed that Price helped him up and caught him from the plane during Crew Expendable mission

Mentions needing to buy Price "a bottle" as a gift afterward

Upset he missed the first shot on the helicopter during Hunted, says it was "inexcusable, especially considering SAM'S shoot themselves"

Put into the infirmary by a dog bite, too embarrassed to tell Gaz or Price (only Nikolai knows)

Call's Price's mustache both a "dick-tickler" and "Price's precious whiskers"

Blames himself for Gaz, Griggs, and Price's deaths (he believes Price died on the high way) and tries to come up with other ways they could have moved through that would have let the men live

Get's stuck/angry over the image of Zhakaev's blood mixing with Gaz's on the bridge

Nik brought women to see him while he was recovering in Russia

Begins mentioning his struggles with pain killers like morphine and alcohol

He becomes almost obsessive with cleaning and caring for Price's pistol as a way to distract himself from becoming addicted

Tries horse racing and betting to cope, but eventually turns to smoking

MW2:

Soap is the one who sought out the formation of TF141, Shepherd merely backed the idea

Describes Roach as "Raw, skilled, loyal to a fault" (implied he and Ghost are absolutes for the team)

On the other end, Ghost gets a simple "what the hell kind of name is Ghost" and no other information akdndjdhjdhd

Roach has the highest score on the rifle test, a whole 18 points over Ghost

Ghost beats Roach on PFT, but only by 3 points

"Have been looking forward to breaking Roach in" during Kazakhstan

"Feel even more comfortable with him than Price must have with me" omg

Roach has a journal that Soap spots him writing in, he wonders what he's writing

Adds to the end wondering if Roach is "wondering what villa claras taste like" which is clearly a reference to Soap's own admiration of Price and wondering if Roach feels the same as that, but boy oh boy Soap was that a gay way to put it ajdjfjdbhd

Makarov weighs 184 pounds and is 5'11 I'm wheezing what a little wet rat of a man I love him

Mentions the death of Meat, so far one of the only deaths he hasn't blamed himself for

Mentions needing to trust Roach and his instinct more, essentially tells himself to cool it with the constant reminders and stuff

Plans to put Roach on circuits and crossfit because he wasn't fast enough lmao

Says he would have crashed the plane before leaving Roach on the rooftops in Brazil 🥺

Blames himself for Roach almost not making the jump to the plane

Says that Ghost "knows something about interrogation"

Mentions that the team didn't bat an eye to him torturing Rojas for information, Soap draws a comparison between himself torturing Rojas to Price torturing Al Asad.

He specifically has Roach handle the C4 after seeing how well he did with it during Kazakhstan

"Ghost hacked at a snails pace" LMAO REAL

"Funny thing watching Roach get taken down by Price" listen sir, give your boyfriend a break please

Very excited and cathartic for him to give Price his pistol back

Says that Price returning and taking over command was the "best demotion imaginable" 🥺

Was just happy following Price and Roach because he "got to listen to the two of them working together like we once did"

Says it was nice to see Price taking Roach under his wing

"For all that coaching, Roach did a shit job with the bodies" listen here sir...thats not a mechanic in the game give the boy a break akdndjjdhd

Knew that Price was up to some bullshit as soon as his comms went off

Kill shepherd: "For Ghost. Roach" 😭 throwing myself from a cliff

"Loyalty doesn't operate on a sliding scale. It's a safety. On or off."

MW3:

Nikolai and Yuri go way back, potentially from Nik's time as an ultranationalist?

Nik rescuing Soap again and Soap saying he owes him a pallet of Imperia for it akdjjdjd

"Knife would healing too slowly for tastes" baby....

Nikolai providing him with antibiotics and pain medication 😬 Soap describes them as "providing inspiration" which does not sound good

Mentions how the ultranationalists have become more violent then they were under Zhakaev

Soap lost friends during the terrorist attack in London

Final thoughts:

Omg my husband

He struggles a lot a lot with guilt from very early on

Put a shit ton of pressure on himself and blames himself for anything that goes wrong. Especially blames himself for the deaths of other characters.

Seems to have had a struggle/struggles with coping with that guilt. It appears to have manifested a bit in struggles with pain killers and alcohol that he manages through almost compulsively taking care of Price's pistol.

Attempts to cope through horse racing (and gambling?) But what ends up working is smoking.

Definitely had a lot of care for his team, particularly Roach seemed to get a lot of his attention.

Much closer to Nikolai then I think people realize. Nik saves his life numerous times and the two work together even with Price not around. Definitely helps to fill in some gaps on why Nik sticks around at the end of mw2

Looks up to Price so very much. Like stars in his eyes this man can do no wrong type of thing.

[friendly-books]

Rivers of London read and write up

Thanks for the recommendation @temporaryyuri. I’ve been told it's about a magic london cop. I won’t hold him being an Englishman against him that’s not his fault but I will hold him being a cop against him. But I’ve been told he’s cool. 

“when he noticed that it was in fact missing a head.” pg. 1 Well looks like there’s been a murder. Now let’s see if it’s mundane or supernatural.

“Martin Turner dialed 999 and asked for the police.” pg. 2 What your supposed to do if you’re in Great Britain and deal with a crime call the emergency line 999

“everything else being equal, it probably wasn’t a case of accidental death.” pg. 2 Ha and yes having your head removed definitely isn’t accidental

This book is so British. I might need to go eat a burger and apple pie to compensate

“why it was me that met the ghost” pg. 3 Metaphorical or “physical” ghost?

“We maintained a strictly professional relationship despite my deep-seated yearning to climb into her uniform trousers.” pg. 5 Well then good to know.

“My name’s Nicholas Wallpenny” pg. 7 Such a British name

“Seeing as I’m dead.” pg. 8 Well at least he knows he’s dead

“The killing gentlemen did t just change his hat and coat, he changed his face” pg. 10 Spooky

“Separate beds, unfortunately” pg. 11 Just ask her out

“Trident was always on the lookout for black officers to do hideously dangerous undercover work and being mixed race meant I qualified.” pg. 15 POC protagonist! Not a fan of Trident or that police force

“Too easily distracted”

“You were checking what was written on the lions bum”

“I like you, I think you’re a good man, but it’s like you don’t see the world the way a copper needs to see the world-it’s like you’re seeing stuff that isn’t there.” pg. 21 Does Peter have ADD or ADHD?

“I’m going to hack HOMES and see if my ghost was right,” pg. 25 Homes like Sherlock Homes? And what do you mean hack? Hacking takes exploiting security vulnerabilities or a phishing con? This is going to take so long

Whats the main character’s name? I don’t think anyone’s said it yet.

“I wondered if we could enhance the faces” pg. 29 I don’t think that’s a thing

“Nicholas the corporally challenged,” pg. 31 Ha

“Peter” pg. 32 Protagonist name finally

“emphasized the width of his shoulders and a trim waist.”

“When he strolled over to talk to me, I thought  he might be looking for that slightly ethnic boyfriend after all.” pg. 34 Ha Is Peter bi? Time for a counter. Bi Peter 1

“Detective Chief Inspector Thomas Nightingale,” pg. 35 I was told I would like this character and that I would ship him with Peter so let it begin

“Ghost are real.” pg. 49 Fun

“You took sciences at A-level,” said Nightingale as we pulled out. “Why didn’t you take a science degree?”

“I got distracted, sir.” pg. 51 Time to look up what A-level means

“We call it vestigium” pg. 54 Cool

“He was from Yorkshire or somewhere like that and, like many Northerners with issues, he’d moved to London as a cheap alternative to psychotherapy.” pg. 55 What’s wrong with people in Yorkshire?

“He bore down the corridor toward us like a bull on steroids and as he did I had to fight the urge to hide behind Nightingale.” pg. 56 I’m sure Nightingale will protect you

“I’m late for my colonic irrigation.” pg. 57 Is he talking about a colonoscopy?

“What’s the agreement?” I asked?

“It’s not important,” said Nightingale” pg. 57 That’s going to come up again

“A life of quiet desperation,” said Nightingale. I knew it was a quote but I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of asking who’d said it.” pg. 58 Well I’m going to look it up. It looks like it’s from Henry David Thoreau book called Civil Disobedience and Other Essays

“but the Murder Team didn’t know about know about my psyche powers and the vestigium of the barking dog.” pg. 59 Peter you didn’t know about your psyche powers up until a couple of hours ago

“I looked at Nightingale, but he just raised an eyebrow.” pg. 61 Nightingale what did you do to the dog?

“A wizard.”

“Like Harry Potter?”

Nightingale sighed. “No,” he said “Not like Harry Potter.”

“In what way?”

“I’m not a fictional character,” pg. 63 Ha

“Brandon Coopertown was a good-looking older man in his mid forties  with black hair and narrow features.” pg. 65 Bi Peter 2

“Stone retains vestigia very well. That’s why old buildings have such character.” pg. 69 Interesting

“Just ask him about the year of his birth.” pg. 75 Interesting how old are you Nightingale

“thrown a baby from a second story window.” pg. 80 Oh no

“Salaam” I said

“Assalaamu alaykum” pg. 91

“dissimuo was a magic spell that could change your appearance.” pg. 92 Interesting

“It’s almost impossible to steal another man’s magic.” pg. 94 Almost that’s the key word here

“It’s theoretically possible, but, morality aside, I couldn’t do it.” said Nightingale. “I don’t think any human wizard could.” pg. 95 But a non human wizard could

“Do I have to call Sifu?” pg. 97 Ha

“You have to call me Master.”

“Master?”

“That’s the tradition” said Nightingale.

I said the word in my head and it kept on coming out massa.” pg. 97 Glad I’m not the only one who got a bad taste in my mouth when Nightingale a white man says that Peter a bi racial man should call him ‘master’ Massa is a offensive and outdated term used in writing to represent spoken altercations of the  word master.

“And your patron Sir Issac Newton?” I asked

Nightingale grinned. “He was our founder and the first man to systematize the practice of magic.

“I was taught that he invented modern science,” I said.

“He said both,” Nightingale. “That’s the nature  of genius.” pg. 106 Interesting

“And she is…”

“Indispensable,” said Nightingale” pg. 108 Glad that Nightingale is nice to the “help” but what is Molly?

“while I, easily distracted remember, had been  wondering whether I could sneak Leslie back to my room in Folly.” pg. 114 Peter focus please

“Middle aged women suddenly goes bonkers and attacks someone in the cinema, in front of her children.” pg. 118 Suspicious maybe magic?

“What’s she going to do with it all the leftover.”

“I’ve learned to not ask these questions,” said Nightingale

“Why’s that?”

“Because I’m not sure I want to know the answers.” pg. 120 Ha

“So it’s not a process of oxidation, is it?” I asked

“Focus,” said Nightingale “Magic first science later.” pg. 123 Peter can multi task

“Good,” I said. “Now I’m incentivized.”

Nightingale laughed and let me to it.” pg. 124 Ha and I take it Nightingale hasn’t laughed in awhile

“I’d managed to get it turn it on but got distracted when Nightingale put us around the Hogarth roundabout fast enough to smack my head against the side window.” pg. 125 Ouch slow down Nightingale who taught you how to drive? How do you have your drivers license?

“Eel Pie Island I knew, as a collection of boatyards and houses on a river islet barely five hundred meters long.” pg. 126 Interesting

“Better than watchdogs,” said Nightingale “ask the Romans” pg. 126 Why did you know any Romans? How old are you? And yes geese are terrifying

Glad the books explaining London police talk

“River spirits” pg. 131 Cool

“He’s a troll.” pg. 135 Trolls are real in this world

“That the boys in the boat had been followers of Father Thomas, and had come downstream  to raid the shrine at Eel Pie Island and been caught by followers of Mother Thames.” pg. 137 Why does this give me slit verse vibes?

Does Peter have daddy issues? That’s what I’m picking up

“I tried to keep my eyes off the long legs emerged slender and brown below the helm of the tshirt.” pg. 141 Focus Peter

“I was fighting the urge to fling myself to my knees before her and put my face between her breasts and go blubby, blubby, blubby.” pg. 144 So definitely some sort of supernatural thing right? Charm person?

“Are you on speaking terms with the Mississippi, then?” pg. 145 Ha

“My father always swore that jazz, like the blues, was born in the muddy water of the Mississippi.” pg. 145 Yep and resisting the urge to talk about music history

“there were too many Igbo in my class.

‘I can no longer wait for you to make up your mind and I am going to marry a white bitch Irish woman.” pg. 147 Someone’s bitter. Igbo refers to a member of the largest ethnic group in southeastern Nigeria. And there’s no need to bring the girl’s ethnicity in this :|

“This is the cleanest industrial river in Europe.” pg. 150 That’s concerning. How dirty are the other rivers?

“I dreamed that I was sharing a bed with Leslie May and Beverly Brook both lithe and naked on either side.” pg. 153 Peter don’t make this into a love triangle

“Tactus disvitae,” he said “The smell of afterlife-they must be down here.” pg. 169 Good to know

“And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how we deal with vampires in Old London Times.” pg. 173 With grenades and white phosphorus

“Fuck me, I thought. I can do magic.” pg. 178 Yep Peter can do magic!

“I said she could come in, but she looked shifty and said she couldn’t.” pg. 179 Oh threshold magic

“Surprisingly, Molly was standing beside her, their heads close together as if exchanging confessions.” pg. 180 Ohh interesting

“I noticed Toby was my dog now.” pg. 185 Yes!

“I hung up as Beverly Brook sauntered over from the hospital, the swing of her hips dragging my eyes.” pg. 186 Peter I feel like I need a spray bottle for every time you get like this

“one of her breasts pushed against my shoulder and I resisted the urge to put my arm around her waist.” pg. 192 Come on Peter focus on the plot and the magic. I’m choosing to believe  there’s some magic involved when it comes to Beverly

“She was spontaneously created by the midcholorians.” pg. 194 Ha nice Star Wars reference

“Detective Sergeant Miriam Stephanopoulos, Seawoll’s right-hand woman and terrifying lesbian.” pg. 205 I love her already even though she’s a cop

“You’re not the first apprentice with an inquisitive mind.” pg. 210 Were you one Nightingale?

“The man was holding silver topped cane and for a moment I thought he might be Nightingale, but the man was older and his eyes were an intense blue. Nightingale senior perhaps?” pg. 212 That’s Nightingale isn’t it.

Good for Molly with the painting

“It was Inspected Nightingale, dressed in the blue polo shirt and blazer that I recognized as being the closest thing he ever got to casual dress. I stared at him stupidly for a moment.” pg. 217 Oh I’m choosing to believe this is a Bi Peter 3

“Thank you,” he said. “Call me Thomas, please.”

Which was just not going to happen.” pg. 218 Come on Peter call him Thomas :)

“You don’t think she and Nightingale…?” asked Leslie

“Ew,” said Beverly. “That’s just wrong.” pg. 219 I agree they can just be friends

“Young men are always tempted to use brute force,” Nightingale had said. “It’s like learning to shoot a riffle; because it’s inherently dangerous, you teach safety, accuracy, and speed-in that order.” pg. 222 Oh were you tempted to use brute strength Nightingale? And he’s definitely old who uses a rifle anymore?

“Officially she was there to liaise with me on the case but really she was mainly there for the wide-screen tv, takeout, and the unresolved sexual tension.” pg. 223 No Peter stop :(

“It’s the change in the clocks,” he said. “Twice a year she takes the day off.” pg. 224 Good for her

“of the horseshoe roof of a wooden gypsy caravan” pg. 227 I believe the term is Romani

“I nearly said that not all fathers were worthy of respect, but I managed to keep my gob shut and anyway not everyone had a dad like mine.” pg. 238 Daddy issues

“We both laughed out loud at that and bypassed Swindo.” pg. 242 Aw they’re laughing with each other

“It was the same Old Man in 1914, I can tell you that for certain.”

“How do you know that?”

Nightingale hesitated, then he said, “I’m not quite as young as I look” pg. 242 I knew it

“It’s escalating,” pg. 245 Yep

“All to no avail, except pissing off Nightingale” pg. 251 Hold on Nightingale Peter’s experiments could be useful

I like that Peter experiment with magic

“Nightingale laughed. I caught a flicker of movement in my peripheral vision and I turned to find Molly standing in the doorway, eyes shining with reflected fire and fixed on Nightingale.” pg. 255 Aw :)

“The Folly has three libraries;” pg. 261 Can I live there?

“Vincit qui se vincit August 1821. I wondered what it meant.” pg. 262 According to google translate it means “he conquers who conquers himself”

“Nightingale smiled

“What is it?” I asked

“You remind me of a wizard I used to know called David Mellenby,” said Nightingale. “He had the same obsession.”

“What happened to him?” I asked. “And did he leave any notes?”

“I’m afraid he died in the war,” pg. 263 So many thoughts. I love that Peter makes Nightingale smile and laugh I take it this hasn’t happened in a long time. I want to learn more about David. I don’t know if David actually died maybe he’s behind the murders?  Tinfoil hat theory. And what war Nightingale? World War One or two? How old are you?

“Help me,” he said

“What’s wrong?” I asked

“He’s eating me,” pg. 269 Oh no

“There was a poster, white lettering on a blood red background, keep calm and carry on, which I thought was good advice.” pg. 270 Peter please tell me you know England history. And interesting that Nightingale has the original poster. Peter doesn’t mention whether the poster has a crown on it

“We broke off for morning tea” pg. 272 Morning tea? Really? So British

“You keep asking the kind of question,” said Nightingale, “that really shouldn’t be coming up for another year or so.” pg. 273 Come on Nightingale tell Peter. So what if he’s asking questions that “shouldn’t be coming”? why does there need to be a time table when Peter “should” learn things?

“You get hunted down even unto the ends of the Earth and summarily executed,” pg. 274 I’d hope so as murder and human sacrifice are illegal and unethical

“safety within screaming-for-help range” pg. 276 Ha

“Chemical glow sticks from the local camping shop and these I cracked and placed where the crib sheet called for candles.” pg. 277 If they work then that’s cool

“I heard Nightingale yelling and looked over to see him running flat out towards me.” pg. 280 Go Nightingale save Peter

“Nightingale grabbed my collar and pulled me away as cherry blossoms and clods of dirt rained down around us.” pg. 281 Oh how romantic with the cherry blossoms falling around them :)

“You’ve got a devious mind, Peter,”

“Thank you, sir.” I said “I do my best.” pg. 283 Ha

“I wanted to watch her tuck her long legs under the dash.” pg. 285 Stop

“She stretched and arched her back, making her breasts strain alarmingly against her sweater.” pg. 288 I will get a spray bottle

“You really are the most extraordinary gullible young man,” she said. “What on earth are we going to do with you?” pg. 292 My thoughts exactly

“A most terrible Irishman”

“Had that Irish temper” pg. 293 Stop being prejudice about the Irish

“before I could stop her she kissed me.”

“What the fuck was that about?” pg. 296 Again my thoughts exactly

“She pulled my head down and kissed me on the cheek.” pg. 301 What is happening?

“I’d like to know what your intentions are with my sister.” pg. 301 Is Peter getting the shovel talk?

“Pikey is a word for Gypsies that a well brought up young policeman is not supposed to use.” pg. 302 I don’t think you’re supposed to use gypsy either and can the rivers stop being racist

“I’ve got nothing against the Old Man or his people but this is the twenty first century and this is my town I haven’t busted a gut for thirty years so some ‘gentleman of the road’ can move back and take what’s mine.” pg. 302 His people that’s a bit racist

“Technically he’s my master” I said “I swore a guild oath as his apprentice.” My tongue felt thick and dry as if I’d spent the night sleeping with my mouth open.” pg. 303 The wince I made when Peter said ‘master’

“A Ministry of Magic” pg. 303 Ha

“Why don’t you have a nice drink?” pg. 305 Don’t drink it

Tyburn is the worst :(

“People are conditioned by the media to think that black women are all shouting, and head shaking and girlfriending and “oh no you didn’t” and if they’re not sassy, then they’re adignified and downtrodden and soldering on and “I don’t understand why folks just can’t get along.” But if you see a black women go quiet the way Tyburn did, the bright eyes, the lips straight and the face still as a death mask, you have made an enemy for life, do not pass Go, do not collect two hundred.” pg. 308 Run Peter run

“We were going to use vampires during the war?” I’d asked, and been surprised by the look of genuine hurt and anger on Nightingale’s face. “No,” he’d said sharply and then with more moderation, “Not us-the Germans.” pg. 311 So Nightingale definitely fought in WW2 and has seen some stuff

“It was his guide dog” pg. 313 Good dog

“In her words, ‘Why does this shit always fucking happened to me’ pg. 314 Ha and I can’t see Nightingale saying that even quoting someone else

“You’re volunteering to have your head beaten in?” pg. 316 It sounds like he’s volunteering himself for possession with the ‘sequestration’

“Like the manifestation of the social trend, crime and disorder, a sort of superyob. The spirit of riot and rebellion in the London mob.”

We all looked at her in amazement.” pg. 317 That is a good theory but I doubt it

“I might have even written an essay, but I’m damned if I remember any of the why.” pg. 326 Ha and I still can’t believe that Nightingale swears

“Nightingale smiled” pg. 327 Aw I just love that Nightingale smiles

“No man strikes his wife without provocation-was she a shrew?”

“A man can be driven to terrible acts by the tongue of a woman.” pg. 329 De Veil is the worst

“Seawoll’s people would provide containment in case things went pear shaped” pg. 331 Things are going to definitely go pear shaped I’m only 60% done

“shot Nightingale in the back.” pg. 332 Ahhh! :0

“Inspector Nightingale was alive” pg. 336 Good

“It’s beautiful” pg. 343 Aw :)

What’s Tyburn doing here?

“Your father’s a junkie, has been for thirty years.” pg. 351 Ouch rude Tyburn

“his heroin” pg. 352 Heroin?!

“So you understand why I don’t find Nightingale’s shabby gentility impressive in any way.” pg. 353 There’s no need to be so rude Tyburn

“Why aren’t you inside right now?” pg. 354 She probably can’t get in the the whole threshold magic

“What did he see in you?” pg. 354 Someone’s jealous

“Checking first to make sure that no one was likely to see me, I reached out and squeezed his hand.” pg. 356 Come on Peter just hold Nightingales hand

“you can’t just walk into a random pub and buy a handgun.” pg. 359 Good point this isn’t the U.S.

“Which meant that somebody had told Henry Pyke” pg. 360 We have a rat dun dun dun

“Leslie May was my suspect.” pg. 365 Oh no Leslie

How am I only 70% of the way though there’s still so much left

Who let Beverly drive?

“but it came out muffled on account of the fact that my jaw felt like it was dislocated.” pg. 378 Is Peter the possessed?

“the bastard had stolen Nightingale’s cane” pg. 382 No

“exaggerated poop deck” pg. 382 PETER THAT’S NOT WHAT IT’S CALLED (sorry the theater kid came out of me) It’s either center stage, right or left stage, downstage or upstage. Trying not to unleash my theater history onto everyone

“I know you’re out there, you black Irish dog.” pg. 383 Stop being racist

“But he has the luck of the Irish and the gift of gab.” pg. 387 So racist

“God spare me from fools and amateurs,” pg. 388 Ha

“Seawoll must have walked up behind me while I was feeding clever.” pg. 393 Oh no, are they all possessed?

“safety harness to be worn by the handsome baritone” pg. 394 Bi Peter 4

“Why is it that good quality pay their taxes while foreigners pay naught and yet expect the liberties that are an Englishman’s hard-won prerogative.” pg. 395 Is this the play being racist or Henry being racist

“Nobody likes a riot except looters and journalists.” pg. 403 Oh no a riot

“but I was distracted by the sight of the helicopter hovering directly overhead.” pg. 404 Peter you’re always distracted

“He wouldn’t have been able to spell racial discrimination on his report, if there had been a report.” pg. 406 I really hope that’s just the magic talking and not the guys actual thoughts

Inspector Neblett to the rescue

“I was wrong about you Grant,” he said. “You do have the makings of a proper copper.”

“Thank you sir” pg. 408 Aw that’s nice

“A Molotov cocktail makes a very distinctive sound.” pg. 409 Oh no

“We kissed.” pg. 422 Ahhh :) Beverly and Peter kissed

“I saw my ranting drunk-he had the face of Mr. Punch.” pg. 429 Oh no

“Mr. Punch-the spirit of riot and rebellion” pg. 430 I can’t believe Leslie was right

“From September 1944 to March 1945, that lovable Nazi scamp Wernher Von Braun” pg. 431 What did I just read.

“Just to let you know that Thomas is conscious and asking for you.” pg. 440 He’s awake :)

“How old are you?”

“Old,” he whispered “Turn century” pg. 442 I knew it!

“Nightingale made a wheezing sound that alarmed me for a moment until I realized that it was laughter.” pg. 442 Glad that Nightingale can laugh in this situation

“Is it natural?”

He shook his head” pg. 442 Oh interesting so it’s not normal.   

“He was a heavyset white man with a skinned head and a faded tattoo of SS lighting bolts on his neck.” pg. 448 He’s a skin head?! Get away from Peter

“Someone sniggered-probably Beverly” pg. 449 Ha

“My duty, my obligation-my decision.” pg. 449 Yes go Peter

“You want to fuck with me, Tyburn, you had better know who you’re messing with.” pg. 449 Ohhh

“Your father is a failed musician and your mother cleans offices for a living. You grew up in a council flat and you went to your local comprehensive and you failed your A-levels.” pg. 450 She didn’t go there >:( Someone shouldn’t throw stones at glass houses. The only reason your immigrant mother from Nigeria is a goddess is because she chose to commit suicide from failing her medical exam and her fiancé leaving her and by some struck of luck became a goddess instead of dying. Tyburn won’t have the opportunities and the power she has if not for her mother being an actual goddess.

“Toby slammed into my ankles as soon as I was across the threshold.” pg. 452 Aw :)

“Which meant-nothing” pg. 453 I’m sure it means something

“as she bit me hard.” pg. 455 Ahh

“After knocking my forehead a couple of times, I just opened the side door like a normal person.” pg. 457 Ha

“But no, not Nickolas Wallpenny, it was Henry Pyke. It was always Henry Pyke, right from the start.” pg. 460 It was him from the start!? :0

“You know;” he squeaked, “you’re not nearly as stupid as you look.” pg. 460 Rude

“Where’s Henry now?”

“He’s in your girlfriend’s head, having carnal knowledge of her brain.” pg. 461 Beverly?! No wait he’s talking about Leslie. Come on Mr. Punch keep up this the new relationship details you’re so far behind on the gossip

“I could no more have not chased him than I could have stopped breathing.” pg. 461 Cool

“I closed the last couple of meters on Mr. Punch and rugby-tackled the dead fucker to the ground.” pg. 463 Yes go Peter!

“Bastard,” he said. “Black Irish bastard dog.” pg. 463 So rude and racist >:( it’s not even that creative come up with better honestly

“Was there a god of Justice? And where would I find him-or maybe her.” pg. 464 Way to be inclusive Peter :)

“And suddenly I understood what Mama Thames had been trying to tell me.” pg. 465 See I knew it would come in handy

“It was the spirt of Old Man of the River as a young man.” pg. 466 So cool and he’s so old

“Molly was hunched over, her face turned away and hidden by her hair, vomiting blood onto her nice clean tiles.” pg. 467 Oh dear

“I looked into her eyes and saw that they were all back, no trace of white at all, and filled with  hunger and despair.” pg. 468 Oh no

“Nightingale’s name made her pause, but only for a moment.” pg. 469 She still paused that’s something

“It was Toby” pg. 470 Go Toby!

“It was Leslie, waiting for me on the chaise lounge, holding Nightingale’s cane across her knees and staring into space.” pg. 471 Oh come on

“I blame it on the Italian, Piccini, a passionate race-they have to incorporate lust into all their endeavors, even their religious works.” pg. 473 Well that’s racist

“And then the mouthy git was gone, right on cue.” pg. 477 Good

“whom he piled with alcohol”

“he might have pressed his case a little too fervently”

“she was a willing partner, or at least not objecting too strenuously”

“At least right up to the point where she bit his dick off.” pg. 480 Good for her

“Beautiful, but she didn’t have slanty eyes.” pg. 481 More racism I’m so glad you got your dick bitten off

“I couldn’t help thinking that hanging out with me had almost killed her.” pg. 482 Poor Peter

“It had been less than six months” pg. 482 It hasn’t even been six months?!

“Nightingale was in the adjacent room, was awake and sitting up and doing the Telegraph crossword.” pg. 483 Yay Nightingale and he’s doing ok

“two people who definitely still believed in divine rights.” pg. 486 Ew divine rights

“It can’t be Tyburn.” I’d said. You don’t inflict Tyburn on anyone as a gesture of peace or goodwill.” pg. 487 Yep

“old-fashioned rectangular hay bays, of the type I happen to know are no longer common in British farming practices.” pg. 488 It’s not common? Over here it is at least where I live

“Don’t worry, it’s basically just like the country,” I said. “Only with more people.” pg. 491 Ha

Final thoughts

I enjoyed this book. I adore the characters, especially Peter, Nightingale, and Molly. I liked the Rivers. The book was very British. I enjoyed the magic and the mystery. I’m glad this book didn’t go into a love triangle with Peter, Leslie, and Beverly. Bi Peter is up to 4 (yes I’m turning this into a counter) I wasn’t a fan of how horny Peter. I wasn’t expecting all the racism.

Onto Moon over SoHo

[vanitygirlsclub]

Willing to work | Self Growth Habits & Life Hacks

"Willing to work to me means.... Working on myself to achieve whatever goals I have set to accomplish." 

Image Credit Source: @theambitiouswoman​ via Tumblr 

Say it with me; "In 2023 I will be...."

Making more money $$$$

Curating more love in my life (Platonically and Romantically)

Practicing Better self care

Happy and developing better daily habits

Healthy and Mentally Secure

Here are a few personal tips to better help you "fall in love", with the work you have planned this year to create a better you! 

Life hack #1 - Do the Work

I didn’t say finish but start just like anything new in life we must try. Through repetition and practice things will get better and improve on the inside and out; trust me! 

Your confidence with grow, your skin will glow, and the world will be bigger than ever before. 

That Youtube video or creative project isn't going to create and edit itself (Side note: I say this because sadly, I know). 

Write out a few ideas and try your hand, I'm sure you're better than you expected, and the world wants to see.  

Have faith - You can do it :) 

Life hack #2 - Discover your Purpose (the real reason) 

This requires honesty and self reflection All things start from within so ask yourself..

Why am I doing this?

What am I learning from this experience?

What do I hope to gain and accomplish?

Do everything with reason and always remember your purpose - this is why you started. This allows you to see the true motive for why you are doing something.

Really weeding out the truth and integrity from what’s fake and how you really feel vs what others influence on you may be

For example: Wanting to buy a new car or bag; because it’s popular or following a trend without true relative feelings or intention

Life Hack #3 - Learn patience if you want to see progress 

Slow and steady wins the race Making sure you're taking the proper steps to gain and really develop better habits skills and routines into your life or craft. 

Remember; With patience there's also grace.

Give yourself a pat on the back and whatever you do... DON'T GIVE UP.  All things happen with time! Which can be hard to believe; but it's true.

Everything has its season. You have to learn how to crawl before you walk and walk before you run - there are complete steps in life for everything and everybody.

That on its own makes each one of us unique.

Give yourself some grace and take a deep breath - you're not behind woosah; and relax. You’ll be better than you were tomorrow - I promise <3

Life Hack #4 - Have fun and Enjoy the ride 

Have you ever noticed whenever someone accomplishes their goals the first thing they reflect on is their past? 

Just like being at the top of a mountain or the pinnacle of your journey all their is left to do is look down. 

So remember on your way up to look around and admire the moment. You're own your way up so things are bound to never look the same again. 

Appreciate the present moment and learn to love yourself no matter what position or circumstances you are dealing with at the moment.

I love you and the world needs you. Stay grounded :)

Life Hack #5 - Be true to you and who you are 

We all go through changes, life decisions, and experiences that are not what we wish to see or even imagine happening to us in our lives. What happened today can't affect tomorrow - only if you let it.

The past is the past and that's where it belongs.

Alway be true to yourself no matter what you’ve been through or where you're going. We all make decisions and choices in our lives that we honestly thought were the best for us at the time. 

If it didn’t work out, its okay. 💗

If it didn’t go as planned, I understand. 🫂

We all make choices and nothing is really guaranteed. You did what you thought was best and love yourself for that!

Appreciate what you have done; even if it didn’t go as planned because through that you still learned a lesson in the end.

Remember storms truly don’t last forever. 

———————————————————

I love you guys and I wish you the best transformation imaginable this new year!

Sincerely - Tia Ray 💗

Follow me on Instagram and Youtube @girltiaray​

[jbankai89]

Dream Daddy Sneak Peek

Chapter 2 will be live this coming Sunday, have a look at what you're missing out on!

This really wasn't how it was supposed to go.

If TV was to be believed, it should have been: Home, Hotel, Hotel, Husband.

Instead, Finn had been given the boot from his parents' estate at fifteen, simply because they 'accidentally' hacked into his phone and found an embarrassing amount of gay porn in his browser history.

After that horrifying family intervention, Finn had been given two minutes to pack a bag before he was dumped on the street, and the security gate was shut firmly behind him.

As most kids his age would do, Finn headed straight for his friend's house. Unfortunately, the Demons Incarnate (his parents) had called well before he'd gotten there and warned Mr and Mrs St Clair of their son's misdeeds. As a result, Finn had been turned away.

Perhaps most spoiled rich kids in his position would have dissolved into a pile of emotions and just cried. He was definitely tempted, but his parents being the kind, compassionate people that they were hadn't even had the decency to wait and kick him out in the summer, when he wouldn't die in the frigid February night. Toronto in winter wasn't a time for Finn to sit around a mope—he'd probably freeze to death first.

Instead, Finn swallowed his emotions and forced himself to walk until he found a free Wi-Fi signal, and he promptly used it to search for nearby teen shelters. It was embarrassing, and he knew that it would suck when he got there, but at least it would be warm.

Finn found one: The Yonge Home for Boys. He raced the twelve blocks to the location, just barely managing to snag one of the last beds in the place in the process.

That night, Finn knew he was marked from the second he walked in the doors. He was clean cut, and his jeans probably cost more than the building's rent. He had top-of-the line electronics with him, and a watch that was just a step down from a Rolex. The other boys looked at him like he was a piece of meat, like they couldn't wait to corner him and punch him until he handed over the goods.

Luckily, one of the ladies noticed all of that, and covertly hid his bag and all his valuables in the staff cubby, where the boys were less likely to ransack it. Apparently even though all their valuables were collected at the door, theft was still a major problem. She never gave Finn a real reason why it was such a 'problem', and Finn figured that it might be better not to ask.

Of course, that didn't stop the boys from harassing him, nicknames like Rich Boy and Mr Priss being thrown at him from all around the room, until a blond boy stood up and shouted, “Hey! Knock it off!”

Find out what happens next on Patreon! For $3/month you can access weekly chapters from this spicy queer story!

[game-boy-pocket]

Happy New Year.

It was a pretty good year for my gaming hobby and being a Nintendo fan. As usual, I did spend a majority of the year just replaying games I loved, but there were a few new, and new-to-me games that I played this year.

Around this time last the year I was on a Rare kick, playing through all the Donkey Kong Country trilogy, DK64, Diddy Kong Racing, Banjo Kazooie, and Conker. and Mark Kurko's Snowglow Village remake, and this spilled into January.

The Rare stuff also lead to a N64 kick in general, as I found a few decent Mario 64 hacks that worked on real hardware, and I also finished a run of Kirby 64 I started a few years ago and abandoned close to the end.

I managed to make it through a short and easy but very charming Fievel Goes West platformer on SNES. I've got a lot of nostalgia for Fievel so, no regrets there.

I started going back and fourth between The Legend of Zelda Ocarina of Time, and Banjo Kazooie - the Jiggies of Time, and it was interesting to visit areas of the game as Link only to come back to them as Banjo, this also marked the first time I ever replayed a full length romhack from start to finish.

I picked up several Super Mario World romhacks. Some of them worked out, others didn't, either because of romhack difficulty or hardware incompatibility, but it really was kind of a Mario year for me.

Smash Remix got some amazing updates adding Marina, King Dedede, and Goemon, among other things. I can't wait to see where else that game goes. But speaking of Smash Bros, I also discovered the Akenia build for Super Smash Bros Melee, and I was thrilled to play that game with some characters that came later in the series like Lucas, Diddy Kong, Charizard, Sonic, and Wolf.

And I cleared two Gameboy games for the first time, Donkey Kong Land, and Final Fantasy Adventure, hopefully I can get to their sequels in 2024.

From there I marathonned a ton of Mario games... the SNES version of Super Mario RPG ( little did I know a Switch remake would get announced later this year ), New Super Mario Bros U, Mario Kart 8, which I managed to get 3 stars on every cup and every difficulty rating, Mario Galaxy, New Super Mario Bros DS, and Super Mario Odyssey, all in preperation to hype myself up for the Super Mario Movie which, against all odds, was fun as hell and filled my little Mario fanboy heart with joy.

Also found mods for Wario Land and Donkey Kong Country returns that made both games far more enjoyable to me. Wario's default walking speed was increased, and Donkey Kong Country's motion controls were mapped to buttons.

Revisited Sonic Riders again, and sadly kind of realized it was not as good as I remembered, having only two grand prix that are largely copy pastes of each other with different lighting. Still prefer the concept of those games than sticking Sonic in a car though.

I discovered a pretty amazing Ocarina of Time hack called the Sealed Palace, which is a it obtuse, but still very good, and I really need to get back to it, I had nearly finished it but went on a hiatus when other things caught my attention. Will finish it in 2024 hopefully.

And one of the big highlights, I finally became the proud owner of an NES. My family had one as a child but it was more for my parents than for me. I mostly played NES games via Nintendo's re-releases or emulation.

Among the games I played for NES, the whole Mario trilogy, Zelda, Chip 'n Dale Rescue Rangers, Final Fantasy 1, Dragon Quest 1, Metroid MOTHER, Kid Icarus, Super Mario Bros 3+, Mega Man 2, Kid Icarus, Duck Hunt, and I started up Final Fantasy 2, but have yet to finish it.

And in April I went to Super Nintendo Land. The experience was slightly soured for me but I had fun and got some cool merchandise. The actual ride was a little underwhelming though, and I didn't even get to go to the Toad Cafe.

In anticipation for the Legend of Zelda, Tears of the Kingdom, I replayed Link's Awakening, and Breath of the Wild, had a great time with both of them.

And then Tears of the Kingdom came along and completely absorbed my life for two months. I still miss playing it. Maybe i'll replay it sometime in 2024? It'll be interesting to see if my opinion changes at all, but so far, this one is in my top 3 Zelda games. It's not perfect, but honestly, mention any Zelda game to me and I can give you a laundry list of flaws for each of them, so a Zelda game not being perfect is old news. But it doesn't make them any less great. I think this one is just contentious because 1. it took 6 years, 2. purists of the old Ocarina Cone style of Zelda games are worried that they'll never enjoy Zelda again. They have my sympathies but honestly I don't ever want to go back to the old style of Zelda unless it's for a 2D game.

I actually tried to give Skyward Sword another try, I bought the Switch version, but like with every attempt to replay that game since it's launch, I just find myself really irritated by all the exposition that I just quit playing early on.

Against my better judgement I bought Sonic Origins Plus on Steam, and it has some performance issues. I really didn't need it, I love that Amy is playable but I kind of prefer her Sonic Advance move set, which fans had already modded into the genesis games. I think i'd rather just get an actual Sega Genesis to play these games on someday.

I finished raising every single digimon on my Digimon Version 20th v-pet, which is essentially like completing the "pokedex" but for digimon. Sadly not every virtual pet tracks that information, so I won't get to attempt that again.

There was a double dose of Ninja Turtles with TMNT II the Arcade game for NES and Shredder's Revenge on the Switch, I think a certain movie came out around this time of year that put me into a Turtle frenzy because I also started watching the cartoon around that time of year.

I am not mentioning every little NES game or hack I play but I want to higlight two excellent Zelda hacks called the Legend of Banjo and the Legend of Super Mario, which are exaclty what they sound like, Zelda 1 but with a Banjo Kazooie and Super Mario makeover respectively, both are very well designed and arguably a lot more friendly to players that aren't experts at Zelda 1, and do a great job at selling the illusion that they're intended to be Mario and Banjo games.

One of my big regrets for the year was Nickelodeon Kart Racers 3, Slime Speedway, which I bought because 1. I was done with the Mario Kart DLC and wanted more racing game, and 2, I was on a nickelodeon kick and was hyped up from the pre-release of Nickelodeon All-Star Brawl 2.

Slime Speedway is just not very well made. I am generally accepting of low FPS but two genres of games that shouldn't have them are racing games and fighting games. And it's very sad because I feel like NKR3 could be one of the better Mario Kart clones if it was better optimized and had less annoying sound clips... Nickelodeon All Star Brawl 2 was a good game but my hype deflated when I learned it would be cutting ELEVEN characters. Also the Switch version performs like ass but I really wanted to be able to take it to a friends house, so I didn't do the smart thing and buy it on Steam.

October is usually when I do my month long Halloween celebration of only consuming spooky media. But Nintendo and Sega had the nerve to plan big Mario and Sonic releases that month, interrupting my plans. But I did manage to slip in some spooky gaming, with Luigi's Mansion, an Evil Dead hack of Wanpakku Grafitti: Splatterhouse, and a Super Mario World Halloween hack, as well as a Kirby Halloween romhack. There was also the promising Super Mario 64 hack - Super Mario and the Monstrous Manor, but it seemed to lose it's spooky flavoring half way through, so I put it on pause for now and will come back to it in 2024.

I don't need to say much about Super Mario Wonder. It was wonderful. Easily the best 2D Mario in decades. It can definitely stand toe-to-toe with the original NES trilogy and Super Mario World. But Sonic Super Stars on the other hand? It's fine, but the bosses suck ass, especially the final boss, who isn't even interesting since it's just the Sonic 3 and Knuckles final boss again but without the Doomsday Zone sequence.

Super Mario RPG came out in November and it was a delight. My second time playing the game that year, I never would have seen it coming in a million years, but i'm so happy that it did. I already want to replay it.

I was put into the mood for Square RPGs, something I always felt like I missed out on growing up. So I started up Final Fantasy IV, which I played before, but never finished. I need to get back to it but I am officially at the point where I stopped playing last time, about to storm some tower in the underworld while the red wings are being distracted by tanks.

In December I started feeling Donkey Kong again and played the first two DKC games, and a few levels of Tropical Freeze, I thought i'd finally try out that new Funky Mode. I then realized that I was playing the exact same games around this time of year last year. Pure coincidence, but I do kind of want to play the rest of the Rare platformers...

I bought my first ever Mario sports game in Mario Tennis Aces, and I had a blast with it, though the adventure mode was surprisingly difficult, I have also bought Kirby and the Forgotten Land but have not really dug into it much. I guess my appetite for Kirby isn't what it used to be, that and my mood lately has been mostly on Mario. Maybe I should finish Yoshi's Crafted World, I got that in 2022 and have not played it at all this year...

Mark Kurko did his annual Christmas Romhack for Banjo Kazooie. I played it on Christmas Eve, and on Christmas Day, I replayed all his past romhacks. I think I might make that a new tradition, to replay all the christmas BK hacks, and whatever else I have. I found a decent Mario 64 Christmas hack as well, though it's only a single level.

And to cap off the new year, I started up a run of Animal Crossing for the Gamecube. I've been at it for a week and a half now. I am curious to see how long I can keep it up. But I have already found two NES games, and I kind of want to see if I can get the whole set and build an NES arcade in my basement, just like old times.

There's not much for me to look forward to in 2024 as far as I know, just the Mario vs Donkey Kong and Paper Mario TTYD remakes really, as I'm not too interested in the Peach game. But I hope we get some exciting announcements. I just am not ready for that announcement to be a Switch 2, I'm so tired of buying new machines.

[chubbydino]

I stumbled upon fool’s gold when I was looking up brocedes fic (yes in 2024 i know) and omg was I drawn you with your amazing writing. On my way to order your novel!

I wanted to know if you had any tips for new writers trying to plan their novel, keeping track of storylines and ways for improve their writing?

thank you! i really appreciate it.

my advice under the cut

for commercial novels, i'm definitely not the one to ask, as i'm still very much a newbie when it comes to self-publishing. i will say commercial fiction and fanfiction are completely different beasts. if you're a new writer, i would try fanfiction first to see where you stand, so to speak. commercial novels are very hard to sell without a fanbase unless you really know what you're doing, and even after publishing (almost) 3 books in a year, i still barely know what i'm doing.

fanfic lets you write what you want, and you can tell almost immediately if its resonating or not because the readers are already there. word gets around quick in fanfic spaces. if it doesn't do well, you have to figure out why. my older fics have terrible grammar and punctuation mistakes that would never fly in a real novel. sometimes i made up for it with a good enough story that people could ignore those things (Horsepower, for example lol) but it wasn't until i really started focusing on learning that it started coming together. i still have problems with commas and semicolons LOL. once you get that down and pair it with a good story, the magic happens!

i will say that finishing what you start is absolutely necessary. i used to get stuck at 30k words. now i can write that in 2 weeks or less. it's important as a writer that you deliver on your promises to finish what you start. for fanfic it's more okay to abandon something, but you will burn fans. i have 3 fics i'll never finish, 2 no one really read in the first place but 1 was on track to be my most popular fic ever and i just...didn't write anymore because of life. nowadays i'll shorten the story and finish it before abandoning it.

yes, fanfic is about having fun etc, but i take it seriously, especially when people are depending on me to create for them. while you don't make money on fanfic, you get what every business pays a shit ton of money to have: people engaged in your content/you. the readers here on tumblr, ao3, and in the discord server make writing fun for me. i'm very lucky that many of those people have also followed me into novel writing by joining my patreon and buying my books as well. if i only finished half of the books i started, i doubt those people would stick around, no matter how much they like my writing haha. i don't write for myself, i write to share stories with those fans.

as for planning, i'm also not really the person to ask haha. for fool's gold i just scribbled down sparknotes of race weekends and wove the plot into them. my best fics maybe had an ending in mind early on (HLS) or a premise i wanted to explore (for PAPM, a amnesia fic where the MC never gets his memories back but there's still a story). a lot of it is intuitive, but i'm still learning. for my professional writing i loosely go off the 3-Act breakdown and Save The Cat! but i only started doing that in the past year or so.

In fic writing, you're forced to work with what you've already written and make it work. In professional writing, you better be ready to hack it to pieces and rewrite the whole thing (Redline lol) to make it better, and people will still not like it. like, people are mad at me for how i ended Short Shift because they think I'm going to tropify it lol.

i see all my stories as movies in my head, so i rarely have to dig into my notes to see what actually happened because i "saw" it happen. idk how to explain it. for FG i wrote most of it without flipping back through. i do forget stuff, but for fanfic it's usually fine. for professional writing, i have beta readers checking that everything makes sense.

in short, just write. soooo many people i know want to write a book and then spend months planning, planning, planning, and never write it. my first attempt at a novel is 85k words and took over a year to write and will never see the light of day. meanwhile wheelspin is 106k words and i wrote it in 3ish months.

there are a lot of shitty books out there making careers for people. as long as you have a good story and a good editor (or knwo how ot edit yourself), you can do a lot and learn as you go. but just keep in mind that self-publishing is like 40% writing and 60% business. i spent 6 months taking free classes on self publishing before Redline debuted just to be able to do the basics. it's a steep learning curve, but worth it when you can hold your own book in your hands. :)

[fabdante]

Expanding upon the idea that Bob was an electricity demon and that electricity demons are uniquely suited to handling/manipulating tech, including making their own little digital world(s) within certain tech like TVs or computers or CCTV cameras:

Vergil still doing his hacking stuff, but this time as the King of Hell, to subtly control and monitor the human world. Or he could just have a whole legion of electricity demons do it for him- presumably the same or similar ones as worked for Bob, assuming Limbo collapsing into the real world didn't blow their covers, in which case they'd have to start all over again with new identities/positions, under Vergil. The ones that are still alive, anyway. Do you think Vergil would avoid using them to keep an eye on Kat and Dante, since we know Kat and Dante (or maybe JUST Dante, post Limbo collapse? But I'd hate to exclude Kat from this stuff, and screw it, humanity could use some advantages against demons) can see demons and demonic corruption, even through whatever veil Limbo gave the demons? At least until he has them more firmly established elsewhere on Earth, anyway. Best way to not have your Evil Plans foiled by the heroes is to just not do stuff pertaining to your Evil Plan in the same city/country that the heroes are in, after all!

I do still love the idea of Vergil learning how to do this kind of stuff himself, tbh, rather than just leaving it to his electricity demons. Just because we've seen preboot Dante take on powers of demons he's killed, like the Quicksilver Style from Geryon and Doppleganger Style from Doppleganger the Deathvoid in DMC3. So it'd make sense if reboot Vergil could do something similar here, too, with the electricity demons. He'd probably have to kill at least one of them to absorb/learn their powers, but still, I could see him doing it.

(Could also see him sparring with the Dreamrunners and Drekavac, too, just to hone his swordsmanship and portaling skills with the Yamato, but that's another topic.)

Side note 1:

I wonder if the Geryon horses are still a thing in the reboot? I mean, Mundus won, and Geryon are pretty useful tools, given that they can control time and teleport and maybe have something to do with moving the souls of the dead, so it'd make sense that Mundus would keep them around. It'd also make sense for Eva and Sparda to target them, too, precisely BECAUSE the Geryon are so useful. Maybe that's where Mundus got his weird time controlling powers? Sparda and Eva kept killing off his Geryon, so he just figured, "Fuck it" and ate/absorbed them to gain all their powers for himself instead? Or at least however much power was left, depending on how many Geryon remained by that point.

Side note 2:

I wonder if that means the Griffons can do the whole "digital world" thing, too? I mean, they are, technically, electricity demons. (And also air/storms. So, uh. Not sure what Mundus could do with that, but ok.) But just given their temperment (or at least, the temperament of Griffon in DMC1, which I'm just gonna use as a reflection on the Griffon species of demon as a whole, since Griffon DMC1 WAS one of Mundus' top minions, after all), I feel like they'd be better suited to something else, y'know? Assuming all Griffons are as noble and honorable as the Griffon we meet in DMC1.

Same question for Alastor- at least, assuming Alastor is still a demon or even race of demons and not a Devil Arm, like the Alastor Devil Arm we get in DMC1.

Side note 3:

Do you think Nightmare exists in the reboot universe? Or the Leviathan? I mean, Mundus made both of those things in the preboot as sort of biomechanical demon weapons, and he even used his own blood to make Nightmare, so maybe???

All of this is really fun and interesting!!

I've always seen post game reboot Vergil surveilling at least Kat because the two of them are deeply unhealthy when separated (not that they're particularly healthy together but look asdfghjk) I've always seen it as something more magic based though then like real world based, though the CCTV angle makes a lot of sense and could be interesting to play with. Particularly because Dante and Kat wouldn't really be able to track him if he's just going to hack into human world systems from his new home in hell.

I think also I'd lean more into Vergil figuring out these things for himself because he does seem like the kind of guy who does not like to ask for help and would rather overwork himself then delegate things he's deemed important, so it makes sense that he'd want to do this himself.

(Also yes to him sparring with higher level demons from the game to hone his skills very about this 11/10)

Anyway, onto side note 1: I tend to view the demon types between the games as pretty separate so I never really considered if there were Geryon horses in the reboot!! I think though if I were to include them I'd probably go about it by having them be rarer, lower circle demons. Meaning they're deeper in hell then we see in game. Since Devil May Cry as a whole is (loosely) inspired by the Divine Comedy, I lean into the circles of hell thing when building their version of hell and the deeper you go, the bigger and stronger the demons. Sort of like how the ocean works, I guess. So if I were to include them, I think I'd have them rarer on the upper rings because they're brought from lower rings. And it'd make sense for high ranking demons like Mundus or even Sparda to see them as a sort of power and status symbol and tool for battle but they're hard to come by, and perhaps all the ones in Limbo had died a long time ago during some of the angel wars or due to something Eva and Sparda did.

Side note 2: If I were to include Griffons in the reboot verse I think I would focus their abilities a lot more on the natural world rather then the digital world! I'm not sure what I'd have them be doing, though, perhaps something like the Hunters tracking or something? I'm not sure. They are just giant birds of pray, though, so maybe.

Side note 3: I don't know if those things would exist! I don't really want to say reboot Mundus is weaker then preboot Mundus but I tend to characterize reboot Mundus as a lot more...tethered? I guess? He seems a lot more stuck to his tower and the hellgate where he's drawing power and the state we're seeing him in often makes me wonder if he's the weakest he's ever been. We know from the game that he's attached himself to his human body and to the hellgate and that he can't like...leave the hellgate (perhaps if there were more he could go between them but there aren't more at the moment, there's just the one). When he's untethered from the hellgate, sure he takes the whole city and turns himself into a sort of Nightmaresque monstrosity. But before then, before the hellgate is closed, he doesn't leave until Dante provokes him. Even when his child is killed he just sends out an attack which is, yeah, powerful and devastating but he still doesn't leave. So I wonder if he'd have the energy to make things that big and powerful at this point in time. But I don't know, he could possibly do that! But I think for the way I tend to headcanon the reboot universe, at the moment I'm not sure.

[whaleofatjme1920]

From Where the Land Meets the Sea - Chapter 2

[GN!Reader]

[Warnings: Minor wounds described, nothing too bad.]

[AN: 4374 words! <3]

Full Index

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Reblogs are appreciated!

Sluggishly, you woke to the sound of thick droplets of rain pattering against the window and roof of the cold place your body laid. You felt a deep pounding near the base of your skull and the back of it, something deep, sharp and unpleasant. Instinctively, you raised your hand to soothe the piercing arche but were halted by the thick cords wrapped around your wrists. You glanced downwards to see the thin white zip ties that accompanied them, and with a heavy sigh, you realized that your ankles were in the same shape. 

The familiar texture of cotton coated your mouth and tongue. It was hell, the lack of moisture. You swallowed on instinct a few times and attempted to garner some spit to wet your mouth by pushing your tongue around your throat. It’s a useless effort though. You’re only met with more dryness. As you slowly came to, you finally took in the unpleasant scent of the room. Iron. Must. Mildew. All of those things at once. Your stomach turned at the recognition. 

On the floor were marks. Not from claws or anything supernatural, but boots, maybe tools at one point. It had been a while since someone really took care of the place, that much you could tell. The scratch marks that you expected to see were adorned and splattered on the walls, most notably around the door and window. The window was clouded in thick condensation around its edges. You slowly sat up to the best of your abilities and peered out of it only to see the woods that peeked through the thick, blanketed fog. You wished you could run off into it, far from this place. 

An eerie creak filled the air and sent your heart racing. Sweat beaded on your brow. There was no way you could fight in such a position as this. You scrambled atop the greasy, cold sheets that you laid on and backed against the wall. You looked like a wild, caged animal. Which really, that’s all you were to them. You huddled into yourself, fearful, but felt a deep sense of anger balled tightly in the back of your throat. 

In front of you, the man who danced death with your mother stepped forward. At his hips hang hatchets, their blades sharp at the tip but dulled from hacking into muscle and bone near the centers. He cracked his neck loudly, inhaled, and moved to the side to give the person trailing just barely behind him some room. He looked exhausted, almost as if he wanted to be anywhere else than playing glorified babysitter to you. He cleared his throat and nudged the person beside him unceremoniously, harshly, with his elbow like they were trying his patience. He cleared his throat again. 

Gingerly, you peeked your eyes upwards to see their face clear through the gnawing fear you felt. Your gaze then met theirs - hers. The woman’s eyes you looked into were so dark, you hardly believed they were real. Dark pools, black holes of the universe that sucked you in further with every lingering second, you couldn't pull away, not even when she moved her hand up to show you that she had brought you something. You pressed further against the wall and bared your teeth in a nasty snarl to scare them away from you. 

The woman stepped forward. Her movements were deliberately slow to not spook you any further. It was like she was attempting to soothe a spooked horse, the way she spoke to you and carefully sat down on the bed. Her face cringed when she felt the seeping, not-quite-wet cold of the sheets before her expression was shifted back to that of neutrality and exhaustion rolled into one. 

“Toby,” she breathed out as her slender, cut up fingers pulled at the tab on the top of the can. There was dirt under her nails, or maybe it was dried blood. Cracked into the crevices of her skin was more dirt. More filth. More evidence her work operated outside of the legal spectrum. Her hoodie was just as dirty. Was it ever that white to begin with? There wasn’t a centimeter of it not caked in the earth or stains of her time rolled around in it. 

The man, now identified as Toby, reached into his back pocket. His brows furrowed for a moment as his fingers shifted around, almost frustrated with how long the simple request had been taking when he finally curled around his smooth prize. He clicked his tongue at the woman before tossing it her way.. A loud exhale sounded from his uncovered nose as she fumbled for a moment but caught it. He leaned back against the wall, popped the bones in his neck and then his wrists, and trained his steely gaze on you. He watched you like a zoo animal, wondering if you’d do any tricks if he poked you hard enough. 

The woman sighed as she lowered her shoulders. She attempted to make her form smaller, less threatening, rounder and to give you a sense of ease. She sighed once more, “c’mere.” The tone matched exactly how she appeared to you. “You need to eat something. Please,” she said as she dipped the spoon into the food. The scent of watery strawberries just barely filled your nostrils. 

You tilted your head, carefully staring down your nose to the contents of the can. Just barely, you caught Toby shaking his head at the woman as she turned her attention back to you. Cautiously, you moved atop the bed inch by inch to the woman. You sniffed a few times. 

“Kate,” Toby warned in a low, taunting voice. 

You watched as ‘Kate’ rolled her dark brown eyes with an amused glint hidden deep within them. You frowned when she pressed the spoon to your lips but opened your mouth slightly regardless, of course accompanied by your equally foul glare. You practically inhaled the food, not caring that the strawberries were waterlogged, not sweet at all and slimy beyond belief. If you were in a better state of mind and a higher position of power, you might have considered it a texture nightmare and outright refused the fruit all together. 

At least your stomach was not rumbling anymore. The thick clouds in your brain were just barely starting to thin. 

Kate stood up, placed the plastic spoon in the now empty can and made a move towards the door. She gave a passing glance towards Toby before the two of them froze. Her shoulders squared, as if she was fixing herself to be presentable and of power and respect. Her eyebrows raised, and her tired expression shifted to the vague notion of surprise. “You take it,” she muttered under her breath. Her calloused hands shoved Toby the can decorated with the plastic spoon before she stepped back. 

Toby rolled his eyes to mock her and pushed off the wall. “I’ll be right back,” he said over his shoulder as he shoved the door open and slid out. 

A pregnant beat of silence passed through the room as Kate settled in Toby’s place. You noticed that she had trained her gaze anywhere rather than looking directly at you and wondered if she was preoccupied. That or she just didn’t like you. You bit your lip and swallowed quietly, still tasting the remnants of watered down strawberries and must. You decided to take a gamble. 

“What have you done with my family?”

Kate could sense the fear in your voice, how it wavered just shy of cracking into a million pieces from the hairline fracture embedded deep within it. She could practically feel your heart seize as if it were her own. Still, humoring you, she curled her brow up on her pale face and raised her left foot to prop against the wall. “What happened to a simple hello?” She started with a loose sigh. “I mean, I’m Kate but you already heard that.” Her eyes bored down on the floor as if it was leagues more interesting than you. Her form contorted slightly, unnatural, arms crossed over her chest and shoulders squared inwards. She was uncomfortable. Deeply so. 

Damn her comfort, you were much more interested in learning all that you could about your situation. You took another gamble and changed your approach. “Please,” you pleaded softly as you raised your eyes upwards to finally align with hers, “just tell me something useful. It can be anything.” Your pleading almost fell on deaf ears given the way you looked at her. Uneasily, as she was your predator. Fear. Exhaustion. And just a hint of understanding that she must be just as tired as you but in a completely different way. 

She sucked in the air around her sharply, practically whistling it when she caught your downtrodden expression and body language. You looked small, genuinely small. Tired and beaten, cold, and uncomfortable beyond belief. Some part of her felt bad for you, and another part of her whispered louder and louder still that you were nothing more than her ward, her victim. The more human part of her began to shout, and unfortunately, she listened. Kate checked the door and honed in on the sounds around her. She couldn’t hear her group members moving around. She felt safe enough to speak. 

“Last night didn’t go as planned,” she whispered softly. Her tall form loomed closer to share the secret with you. “Your parents-”

The door swung open. Toby, accompanied by a man dusted in faded yellow that reminded you of the dust kicked up from the earth stood unimpressed in the doorway. His muscles were tensed underneath his hoodie followed by his equally tense energy. Though he was wearing a black ski mask painted with a comically large red frown, you could tell he was scowling. His hands were balled into fists, steeled to suppress his budding rage. He honed in on Kate, even more unimpressed at how caught-in-the-headlights you two looked before him. 

“Get out,” he commanded plainly. 

“Hoodie, I’m-.”

“Get out, Kate,” he repeated as he accented his words with sharp venom. 

The woman shot him a look - one you couldn’t quite decipher - before she tucked her tail between her legs, head down and tried to scurry past him. 

Hoodie’s gloved hand gripped tightly at her shoulder, enough to make her squeak, as he pulled her uncomfortably close. His teeth grit together under his mask as he whispered a warning before harshly shoving her out of the room. He then turned to you, squared his shoulders, and stalked up. He seemed to take mild joy in how you scrambled back on the bed and pressed pathetically against the wall in a vain attempt to bury inside of it and avoid his presence. If he came any closer, he’d burn you. 

He reached his gloved hand out, the same one that had hurt Kate, and roughly grabbed your chin. He could feel your flesh under his covered nails. “Your parents? The ones that put up that pathetic fight last night?” He watched as fear welled in your eyes. His hand moved your face around so he could get a good look at you. Covered in filth from the woods. You’d seen better days and he knew it. This was not one of them. “They’re fucking dead.” 

You didn’t want to cry or show weakness, but you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. More and more drops of water braided together into waterfalls that pooled at your chin. The tears that spilled from your eyes were almost enough to fill the seas. You gasped softly when Hoodie pressed you back, his hand letting you go as if you were a piece of trash he’d forgotten to discard before he rolled his eyes at you. 

“Look at me,” he demanded. He crouched down slightly. “Look at me.” He didn’t want to repeat himself. When you finally did as told, he carried on. “I’m only saying this once, so listen up,” he continued, his facial expression largely neutral under the mask. He didn’t seem to want to be bothered with babysitting you, or even spending time in your presence. Though, you did manage to catch a glimpse of regret in his body language due to how harshly he’d handled you. The little nick on your chin caused from the rough seam in his glove… It almost made him pause. “You’ve got fifteen minutes for a shower. When you’re done, come right back to this room. Move it.” 

Hoodie stood up, nodded to Toby, and then left as quickly as he entered. The air felt impossibly warmed from his anger, but uncomfortably cold that chilled your bones from the dreadful news he’d imparted on you.

You hardly managed to register the words through the pain you’d felt. How could you be told such life altering news and expect to go on? Your parents were your entire world. They supported and loved you through everything. They were all you’d ever had in the world, and now, they were gone. You tried to stifle your breathing to force it to something even paced but hitched on every breath. “Oh gods,” you whispered through your pain. Your body began to rock back and forth to soothe and let loose some of the energy bursting from within. 

Toby crossed the distance to meet you at the bed. He crouched down, flicked his pocket knife out and snipped at the binds on your ankles. He then moved upwards to your wrists, not caring that the blade was cold against your skin. He shot a look at you: don’t try anything. 

It’s not like you had that energy to begin with. 

You felt your world had come crashing down around you. You were pieces, no longer whole. There was no other way of putting it. 

Toby’s hand reached around to your bicep. Tired of your crying, he yanked you upwards and guided you out of the stale room. 

You glumly looked around at your surroundings. The place you were in, it was dim. The clouds from the late summer, early autumn rainstorm were blocking the sun’s light. The floor was ill taken care of. When was the last time the wood had been polished? Certain floorboards were rotting away. Others had nails sticking out to show they’d been just barely ‘repaired’. Black mold decorated the corners. This was not a place anyone stayed in for too long, that much you could infer. 

You watched as the dusty floors picked up in boot traffic, and tiredly, you looked up. The living room. You were in the living room. You could tell by how much ‘nicer’ the room appeared. A few mismatched lamps, an overhead light with a burnt out bulb on one side, the furniture didn’t match, again, you could tell this place was not anyone’s true home. It was a crossroads, somewhere for people like… you. 

You could feel the presence of several other people but kept your eyes glued on the floor after sneaking a quick peak. What characters these people were. None of them felt real, or at least, they’d be gawked at in civilized society. Who cuts their face into a smile? Why are several of the people here wearing masks? The only reason you wanted to catalog their faces was not for feeding curiosity, but rather for alerting the authorities when you escaped. 

“You’ve got more like, thirteen minutes,” Toby said as he opened the bathroom door. “Remember, quick. There’s clothes in the cabinet.” And with that, he shut the door. 

From where you stood, confused, scared and alone, you could hear him slide against the wall and settle down. He whistled as he waited, and it brought you a sense of deep unease. It was stupid, but you didn’t want to waste an opportunity to feel just a bit better. You bit your lip, let your mind go blank, stripped and turned on the water. The ice ran circles up and down your back, making your body go numb. But it was a pleasant numb, one that allowed the heavy marks and agitated flesh on your wrists and ankles to soothe for a moment before it shifted to something a bit more lukewarm. 

Your lips pulled downwards as you gingerly traced your fingertips over the marks. You’d have to get that situated. Not wanting to face the world or the situation you were in, you slowly turned off the water as Toby’s whistling began to slow. He was not whistling the jeopardy theme song. How quaint. 

You stepped out into the cold air and rummaged around in the cabinet under the sink. Jeans, some socks, a few shirts… They had a few colors, but you weren’t picky and blindly chose, ending up with the dark grey one. You popped the shirt on and opened the door to the bathroom and readied yourself for whatever evils may come your way. Though, a shower and a fresh change of clothes, that didn’t feel like something a murder victim would be gifted. What on earth had you found yourself in? What did Kate mean by things not going according to plan? 

You winced when Toby grabbed your wrist.

“Sorry,” he apologized as he moved his hand upwards to your forearm. It was almost human, the way he reacted to your display of discomfort and pain. “I’ll send EJ to look at that.” 

Internally, you wondered which one of the monsters in the living room was ‘EJ’ before being shuffled along back through the living room and to the room you knew as your prison. Obediently, you sat back down and waited, absentmindedly nodding when he told you not to do anything stupid in the meantime. You pondered jumping out the window, though it was sealed shut and shattering the glass would make far, far too much noise. Maybe you could use a shard to stab a captor? No, mom and dad never taught you how to fight. Though, apparently they’d learned themselves. 

You weren’t allowed to be consumed by your thoughts as a polite knock sounded on the door. It’s not like it was your place to answer, so you didn’t. You held your breath as you watched the next monster waltz into your prison. 

He was tall, but not gangly. In fact, it looked like he was strong, much too strong. His true face was obscured by a mask, something deep blue like the pools of twilight decorated by an oil spill from a black hole. He smelled faintly of citrus and even more so of tar. 

“Eyeless Jack. Just call me EJ,” he greeted - and you took note of his relatively thick Polish accent - as he softly closed the door. For such a large, imposing figure, he was so even mannered and gentle with precise movements. In his other hand was a first aid kit. It looked tattered in some places, falling apart at the hinges due to its heavy usage. Huh, even monsters need first aid from time to time, don’t they? Eyeless Jack drew closer to you before sitting down on the edge of the bed. He looked comically large atop it, but you dared not to laugh. He set the worn box down on the sheets and made a ‘give me’ motion with his gloved hand. 

You studied him cautiously before deciding that he was ultimately there to help you. Hesitantly, you handed him your wrists which earned his hum of approval. You were surprised at how gentle he was in treating you. His grip was firm, but had a professional’s touch as he worked on disinfecting your battered skin. 

“They really tied you up good,” he observed aloud to make light conversation. 

You made a noise of disgust and rolled your eyes at him. The pain you felt physically was nothing compared to the weight on your heart. “Is that a compliment or an insult?” 

He brushed off your statement, choosing not to acknowledge your words at all, all the while not caring at how you sat on the bed in order to give him better access. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He pressed the cloth drenched in isopropyl alcohol on your wrists, gently dabbing and letting the strong smelling liquid fill your nostrils and drip along the curve of your wrists before he glanced down at your ankles. In his opinion, your ankles were in much worse shape than your wrists. “So,” he whistled, “how are you?” 

What kind of question is that? Is he mocking you?

“What does it matter to you?” You spat. 

He looked genuinely surprised that you answered him because his head snapped up momentarily from his work. His ears shot upwards, like he heard a sudden noise. You could imagine his eyes were just as wide before he moved his attention back down to his work.

You fought the urge to cock your head to the side. “What?” You asked curtly. 

“Oh, I was just making small talk. Filling in the quiet spaces, I find it weird when patients are too quiet,” he explained as he banaged your wrists up before he patted the bed to nonverbally tell you to reposition yourself so he wouldn’t have to contort to fix you. “I don’t actually care.” 

The pure nonchalance as if he were telling you the time almost made you gape like a fish plucked from the water. 

You awkwardly put your attention on the window and cleared your throat to cover your shock. Quietly, you let him finish his work. You felt much too awkward to even try and open your mouth. So, you allowed your thoughts to remain on your parents, the people you loved most. The memories you had of the life before this, and the life you would have had provided masked maniacs didn’t siege your house. When Eyeless Jack finished on your ankles, he briefly checked over his work once more, asked a few follow up questions like any good doctor might and then left. Though, much like Toby, he told you not to do anything stupid in his absence. 

The rest of the day was rather silent, especially from you. From what you could hear though, someone was stationed outside of your cell and they would shift out every hour or so. Some people were more precise than others. In your boredom, you tossed a pebble at the window and gained the attention of Hoodie, who must’ve spent an eternity in the doorway debating whether he should punish you or not before he closed the door and went back to waiting outside of it. It’s not like he wanted to spend any more time with you than he had to either. 

Eventually, someone came back in to feed you. This time, it was Toby. He was satisfied with plopping the can and plastic spoon down in front of you and watching from a comfortable, yet close distance away. He eyed you like a hawk, refused to speak to you, but found amusement in you subconsciously thanking him. That happened often, often enough for him to add it to his mentally tally board. All the victims that thank him for something as vital as food. It’s human to be grateful even in shitty situations. 

The night washed over your cell in the world far too slowly for your comfort and with it came the bane of being lost in your thoughts. You felt lonely, oh so lonely. You curled up on that crumpled, dirty bed and began to cry. It was soft, as you did not want to gain the attention of your captors but your body could not think of any other way to relieve the stress. You thought about your life, the things that mattered to you, and shuffled deep in your memories for anything that could bring you a spot of joy. 

You were 15 years old and it was a stormy night. Your friends, they were busy with other things and flaked on you last minute. This wasn’t the first time they’d disregarded your feelings, and it certainly would not be the last time. Your parents, who had a rare night off together from work, wanted to cheer you up. Your mother sat with you on the couch and browsed the selection of movies while your father made popcorn that rivaled the stuff you got at the theatres and poured other fizzy drinks that would undoubtedly upset your stomach later. You chose the scariest movie possible and had the joy of hearing your father scream like a child. You and your mother pelted him with popcorn. A storm raged outside. The half-baked apologies from your ‘friends’ for flaking were left unread. When you were spooked, your parents cuddled around you and promised to always protect you. You had never felt safer than in their arms. 

You stared at the ceiling, mentally counting the little rough popcorn-like bits when the moon finally cut through the clouds. How you wished you could go back to the days before this, when the nights were warm. When you were loved. You imagined the stars in the popcorn bits, and faintly listened to the waning voices outside your door. The whispers of what is yet to come have not yet reached your ears.

You closed your eyes. Though sleep is the only option, is it not a choice you would willingly make. 

Still, a seed of resilience had been planted inside of you. None of them could deny that they saw it. You still had some bark despite your bite being stolen away from you. You would grow your teeth back astronomically fast, sharp, rough calcium deposits bursting through your gums that would explain the reason people would grant you space. But that was well known through trial and error with someone like you. Though you felt alone and scared, you couldn’t even begin to know the half of it. In your pathetic, heartbroken state, you were denying yourself your nature. But that was expected, and you were-

Familiar. You are too familiar. 

It was only a matter of time until you learned why.