#i got so sidetracked with uh coding

[sadmages]

A batch of Artfight revenges!

Ciera for Hush-art on AF

Nakir for SugarInferno on AF

and Rowan Hawke for @proserpiiart !

[peaterookie]

PREVIOUSLY ON PEATER'S INSANE RAMBLING ABOUT HIS OC - part 1 here :) i seriously recommend reading this first.

and yknow what? I should probably cover all of the christmas perrins all in a row because getting rid of all of them rn would better fit the writing flow better-

oh. there's a picture limit. god fucking damn!!! see you later then!!!

okayyy here's the later that everybody had asked for. we were talking about christmas perrins last time, got it.

~Christmas Perrins ~ peater gets sidetracked talking about his favorite holiday

BAM!!

combining all four christmas peaters will grant you the ultimate christmas weapon i think.

I used to host two Secret Santa events on the Sony Sketch Amino, where my ocs starred as the host of those events and got their special little designs and such. it was really fun... maybe there will be a third secret santa perrin in the future........

i also wanna show you these art i made for the event. the characters beside perrin are part of his #awesome gang called the pinwheel quintet

left to right is berry(blue girl), audie (yellow they), and lu (red guy) ofc perrin is the green creature. the four genders.

wow that improvement kinda go hard though

the third christmas perrin is aaaallso from a pinwheel quintet drawing!!! not much lore but i found the design cool.

can you guys tell that i like christmas

~ 2020 - 2021 ~ Thieves are coming to town!!!

March 2020 Perrin was a hallmark in his design history i think because for starters, I finally cracked the code on his design and how I want to draw him!

If you had paid attention to how his hair was drawn, which is completely understandable if you didn't its ok, he has always had a tuff of hair that completely sticks out. sadly, i dont think this was ever obvious to people given how it blends in way too easily when it's positioned towards the right, so i moved it towards the left to make it pop out a little.

his hair has always been a bit inconsistently drawn throughout the years, but i think after this you will notice that i start styling it very consistently because i started finally *getting it* around this time.

hopefully this makes it better for people to understand. listen. i had to suffer drawing those early designs so you guys still sit and listen to me complain about a 12 year old's shitty character design.

along with a new design for Perrin, Kirbypeater also makes a comeback after being shafted for almost 4 years!!

I mainly picked him back off from his mid 2015 design, but made some refinements and changed the direction of his tuff of hair lol. I also made him a separate character from perrin kinda. he's a bit more child-like and friendlier than the human perrin.

2020 also brings two new awesome AUs onto the table!! The first one being based off of Persona 5, where the Pinwheel Quintet becomes Phantom Thieves and such. This was made for an art challenge in Sony Sketch Amino and I did a whole fanfic for it but it's really bad.. I'm not showing you.

All I can tell about the story is I think i turned evil or something and their superpowers got taken away, so now they gain the persona powers and shit and they have to steal my heart to turn me good again.

Second au is also from a Sony Sketch Amino art challenge. Created by the same friend that made that one reference sheet of underswap sans lol (hi yan) and the story was co-written by meeee!!

This challenge revolves around a detective mystery, where the participants are given the plot and a prompt per week, each week the story updates giving them more details on the mystery and they eventually have to find out the perpetrator of the crime and stuff.

The story i think goes that a rich ass woman invites people to her party to see her awesome shiny diamond and so people come and then uh oh! the diamond's gone!! so then the detective (yan's oc) goes up to you like ur gonna investigate this with meee and then they do that and a bunch of stuff happens and oh my god peater's the thief all along?!?!?!? holy shit!!!

credit to @hinatas--oj for the art. haha. didn't expect to see this drawing in a while huh.

that story was so fun to make though. so then we made it into an au and i think my friend is making that story into a visual novel game!! so excited!! woohoo!!!!

ok, moving on.

holy moly!! new design again!!!

heavily deviating from the usual striped sweater, i completely abandoned the original story i wrote for him and wrote a different one, so that's why he looks really different.

oh yeah, i completely forgot to mention the cheeks on the ref before this. that was added as a little nod to him being heavily inspired by chara undertale back then. check chara's design they have pink cheeks :)

i think he was supposed to be a bounty hunter or something iunno that whole thing was also scrapped.

also i added his 7th birthday design on there because it kinda kicks ass.....

~ 2021 - 2022 ~ The AU Era

hooohhh boy

look I'm gonna be frank with you guys, I don't think this era was exactly my proudest. I think it's because the more we approach the present, this is gonna be the thing closest to the current me. you can kinda excuse all the other embarassing stuff from the earlier ones because i was young but honestly i dont like looking at this stuff sometimes 😭

but it's okay!!! this era is super cringe but it's time to fucking ball!!!

icky style.

this one was just me refining the prev design a bit more. i think i might added too much detail though. also he looks really fruity here which is just really funny to look back on now

speaking of fruity, some of you might've noticed that he also went by any pronouns in this ref and the prev. this was sorta something randomly added that gets retconned later on. (he does by he/him only now.) this doesn't mean he's cis though. he could be trans? or a third mysterious thing? who knows.

also! the introduction of peater piper!! his pipe weapon!!! it is the most powerful pipe to ever touch fiction. i felt like the baton thing wasn't anything significant enough + severe downgrade from the sword so i changed it to a pipe. feels like it fits his sewer rat vibe.

i think this stage was just particularly experimentative, going in very strange directions that i dont usually take so you're gonna see a lot of strange characters popping up now.

awright!!! let's tackle these three now!!

Swap Perrin - So you remember the Lu guy i mentioned during the christmas part? Well i made a funny swap au once and peater gets swapped roles with Lu! he is acoustic and likes hamsters.

Harlequin Rabbit - There's a lot of drawings i made of him but this is the only bareable one i can find. this bastard is a fucking god of the rabbits or some shit and he can travel through worlds but he's a FUCKING ASSHOLE and a FUCKING LOSER and EVERYPERRIN BULLIES HIM!!! I ALSO HATE HIM!!!!!

SpaceBun - This cute motherfucker is from a story that Lu imagines in his funny little brain of his where he's an awesome bunny space ranger and perrin is like, his love interest character kind of. she kinda has godly powers? she's a sweetheart. i love her. you should love her too. (also by far the hardest to draw and color in my drawing because she actually doesn't have a real reference sheet.

alright, more aus.

Roboperry - Not actually an AU, but they kinda snuck in there as part of the perrin group through a simple doodle i made. A friend became REALLY obsessed with it and now it's part of my story along with normal Perrin. They're a sweet little idol robot that loves Perrin very much <3

YanLu Perrin - AU where Lu is a yandere that wants to GET PERRIN!! honestly this guy's just a blank slate, wow, almost like senpai from yandere simulator, which this was based off of!!

P5PT - He's back!! with a fresh look!! Lookin' cool, Perrin.

OmorPea - yeah.

Demon AU - Based off of this vietdrama i saw of a group of witches living in the human world and terrorizing their neighbors with their magical powers. This instead is Perrin being a demon and terrorizing the neighborhood by being fucking evil.

AstroDome AU - AU where Audie (the yellow they) is a sad starving child that tries to sleep off their pain by being in their dream world. Perrin in the dreamworld is one half of a powerful crow god and he is a fucking bastard!!!

MM AU - Also new design!! He's not seen above but I do wanna talk about his character a bit. He grew up in a poor family and due to a series of unfortunate events, had to abandon his family and live on his own, deciding to become a thief to survive. Though he didn't want to live like this, he gets extremely good at his job and becomes an infamous thief in the cities. I think this AU was part of the reason why i got really into lupin iii later on

All of these Perrins were in like a Perrinverse situation where they interacted with each other and I drew a shit ton of art for them. All of these AUs, aside from Masquerade Mystery, AstroDome, Roboperry are now defunct and not being used sadly. It was fun while it lasted.

~ 2024 ~ Now?

Okay, last one to go through.

This one really got slapped with the Monkey Punch art style lmao. Not to say that's a bad thing, he looks pretty awesome. It was honestly really hard to draw him right in my new style, it took quite a while to get used to it but it was all worth it!!!

Will there be a couple more changes to his design in the future? maaaaybe.. But I'm happy with how he is now, the previous design got way too out of hand with the details.

With this post approaching its end, I wanna say to Perrin: I'm deeply sorry that I couldn't care for you well enough these recent years!!! I am very occupied with current projects, and while I'm unable to care for you now, you are more than just a character, you are an intergral part of my life and I will never forget that. With you reaching 10 years of age now, I promise that one day through these next 10 years that I will come back to you again with even more energy and passion that I had in the past. But for now, have this post and the drawing as a present from me to you :)

And thank you for whoever read BOTH POSTS through the end!! you are fucking wild and I would really love to hear what you thought of Perrin and his lore. I really wonder how long this took to read actually

uh what if i made it longer

and a bit longer

and a biiiiiit longer

maybe a biiiiiiiiiiit mo-

[1-talk-alot]

Okayyyyy yeah I got terminated but if I hadn’t got terminated you’d be able to go back and see alllllll the shit about M (code name) and im not going to re explain it so whatever

Short rant ahead!!!!

I vagely remember saying that I would talk about this topic again unless something happened and ig something did happen but whatever whatever im making no sense

Soooo today in fact M, E and C (and me!) we’re in dance bcs we have no choice and we were like standing around because idk and E goes to the bathroom so im sitting down and M and C are there and Ms talking shit about someone and I’m like “wait who” and they’re like “Ph it’s nothing don’t worry about it!” And im not stupid and I HATE how they think I’m just gonna be like “Okay! I will assume it’s someone who I don’t know or someone who you have already told me about because im an empty headed idiot with no opinions, logic, or ability to work things out on my own!” LIKE?????? Anyways I just assume its one of my friends or me because you im not an empty headed idiot like they apparently think!

Sooooooooo E comes back and we do our dance and (this next bit is a bonus issue) idk if M even like notices but they neeeeeeeeed to stop standing so close to my face like please?? I keep stepping back and you keep coming closer like stop

So whatever our group has another break and M jumps up and says(to C) “okay anyways I wanna keep shittalking them now!” And they open their phone and I can quite obviously see E’s pfp on their phone and i atp go to tell E “hey theyre talking about you” but like even I know that I don’t have to because theyre full on standing 1 foot away. Like Ik some people are just dicks who make it clear they don’t like you and they talk about you knowing you can hear them because they want you to feel shit but keep in mind everyone in our group are meant to be “bestfriends” or whatever. I didn’t hear exactly what was said I just know it was to do with some text message or whatever.

Sidetrack! (Because I do that a lot) they also expect me to move into an apartment with them when we’re older?? Idk but its weird because one it’s not gonna happen, two I know exactly what I wanna do and im going to live alone, three in the time period im not living alone (because I know that’ll happen too) I wanna live with E, A, or just some stranger who I can get to know and become friends with. It sounds mean but there’s no way im going to wind up in an apartment with M and theyre being so oblivious about it despite my multiple attempts to tell them my life plan

Back to the story uh there’s not story left just WHAT THE FUCK???? This next sentence may sound sarcastic but it’s a genuine question do you want the world to know what you said aboit E?? It would be bad anyways but you’re standing 1-2 feet away????? Literally that whole day I’ve been doing my regular “I wanna talk to my friends without seeming intrusive so im gonna stand” thing and almost whenever I actually do get to talk to my friend they just intrude and I know it sounds selfish bcs idk how to explain how I know they’re doing it on purpose?? And then they try to like steer me somewhere else like the canteen or like anywhere???

Let’s finish on a sidetrack ok I think its safe to say that theyve got shit going on for themselves and every once in a while they (out of nowhere, mind you) strike up a point like “if I died you guys wouldn’t care and 1 what do I even say??? Like I’d care obviously but what do I say? And two even when I do say like anything theyre just like “you’ll live.” Like ok am I not meant to? Because it sounds like you’re mildly pissed at the fact that I wouldt follow you if you died or smth

That also happened today and honestly idk what theyre even tryna do? Like youre making a point that you’re obviously sour about and then when we try to reassure you you’re just reject it?? So what are we supposed to do then? This happens often and im soooo tired of it because it’s a lose-lose game like there’s no good option anyways

(Disclaimer excuse spelling mistakes bcs I didn’t proof read this I just wanted to post it finally)

In conclusion I shouldddd (“deal with it in a mature and organised way so that no one gets hurt!”) commit identity fraud!

Bye bye :3

[maeve-is-annoying-about-books]

House of Leaves, Chapter 13

Another rich chapter. This one was titled, too. Before Zampanò erased all reference to the labyrinth.

These poor kids, man... It's not enough they have to live in a rhetorical device for their parents' issues, but they have to go to school on top of it all. And now watch as dead and dying men they saw just a week-and-some-change ago get vaulted onto the living room floor.

It seems like I have an answer of a sort as to why the Spiral Staircase got so big. Karen's packing to leave coincides at about the same time as the stretch.¹ It's a total collapse of communication on all fronts. Y'know, in a way everyone is in their own bewildering little house at this moment. One that's twisting, unsure, and endlessly possible but infinitely obfuscating. Brookes, a teacher at the children's school, walks into the house looking for answers and is met with confusion. Like Holloway, when there are no answers, ends, or goals. Like Karen, who has infinite choice on where and how to go, but by that same token makes it impossible to plan. Like Tom, bereft of a brother. Like the police who walk into a mystery they simply cannot solve in a household they don't understand.

To me the house has a component of the terror of infinite possibility. If you're an artist of any sort, maybe you'll understand. Has anyone ever told you to just draw anything? Draw whatever you like. Because now, well, what's the right thing to draw? What is the best use of your time? What ages-old idea will you resurrect when you have time for one? In these situations I find having infinite choices is the same as having none, both beget a certain kind of paralysis.

Anyway. The uh, the book. Let's see what's next I'm sure it's answers about Hallway an-

Hi. Johnny. My man's so far gone he's nailing tape measures up in his room.² I didn't expect Lude to be the one to give him his figurative light, though. It's narrative as fuck. He's literally giving Johnny a guiding light, his way out, and Johnny just can't do it.

And then there's this bit here that I like.³ Johnny talking about how without the story, he would cease to exist. And it's completely true. He has interposed himself into it and he's now a part of it from my perspective. In the complete sense, he is a character in the story in my hands. Like some fly trapped in a piece of amber I'm holding.

In a way, I guess I'm also part of this story now. My musings are added to the book. Maeve's interludes where she talks about her feelings and gripes at Johnny. There's something about that that should frighten me, but I actually think it's really sweet. Even if my words are only seen by a handful of people, to them, to you I am every bit the same character as Will, Karen, or Johnny. I exist on paper, in relation to this story. At least until I move on to my next book. But these words, my bit part, will remain. As will everyone else's who writes about House of Leaves.

I got... very sidetracked. Pardon me.

Navidson's escape. The book seems a bit insistent on coding Holloway as the Minotaur. But what I find striking is that he's simply not. He's much more in line with Zampanò's small take on the man-bull.⁴ Someone dispossessed for inadequacy. The labyrinth is his home, it keeps him safe. It gives him the visage of a brave adventurer. I'm sure there are allusions and themes with Elizabeth and the doe but I'm not too picky about them. I more find it interesting that he took his own life in the house. Moon above that sounds horrific worded like that. I mean that there are two ways it could be read. Either as a definite end to the infinite using the only thing he had control over, or... Or the labyrinth took him as its Minotaur. Maybe both. The house vanished his body, turning even certainty into possibility. the suggestion he is the something in the dark, still. And that's maybe the most horrific thing of all. Not that Holloway's body lurks in the house, but its power to make the certain into a worrying "possibly".

Or my read on it is bad. This is a very packed chapter, I still have a segment to go, so please excuse me for capping my speculation here for now.

Speaking of the house and frightening possibilities the fucking thing is on the loose.⁴ In... a heel turn? The house is now warping its normal side, rapidly opening into yawning abyss. Actively trying to kill its occupants. Now in the moment this was fucking terrifying, brought out the little girl in me who was frightened of Monster House. But after the fact I wonder at... why. Why suddenly change like this? Why shift to the maximally predatory? Why the sudden visceral horror over the liminal cold? I've trusted the very deliberate nature of the book so far, so I'm willing to extend some grace and see if there's more context later. Perhaps the violence is caused simply by the group perceiving the house as a violent thing. Maybe it's a lingering echo of the violence it was taught. Maybe action scenes are just really cool.

There is this one moment I'd like to take note of before I end post. It's here⁵, where Navidson is rescuing Daisy. The scratches on her arms are still, of course, there. I found it interesting that Navy has to undergo a symbolic reciprocation of her pain in order to rescue her.

And he did rescue her.

At the cost of Tom. Oh Tom you deserved so much better than this.

[lonelier-version-of-you]

That was SO FUCKING GOOD. I really, really enjoyed that.

Let’s get the big one out of the way: Yaz is now officially, canonically, explicitly, undeniably queer!! (Although her exact identity is up for debate; I lean towards seeing her as bi, but lesbian or pan or any other sapphic identity Yaz headcanons are cool too.) Just in case there was any doubt left, although, frankly, you’d have a hard time not seeing it by now anyway.

I did say that I thought we would get, at the very least, a love confession from Yaz before this era was out. I love being right.

The exact nature of the Doctor’s feelings is still somewhat ambiguous, but they’re pretty heavily implying that her feelings for Yaz are just as romantic as Yaz’s feelings are for her, I think (the way she was looking at Yaz while they watched the fireworks...). I think they might just leave the Doctor’s feelings implicit, given there’s only two more specials, but who knows.

I liked Sarah and Nick. Sarah in particular was great, I would LOVE to see her come back someday as a proper companion.

I do agree with some of the complaints I’ve seen that the writing for Nick was a bit... awkward, and at times made him come off a bit more as “creepy” than as “socially awkward man with a crush”. But those times were few enough that I can simply brush them off as writing errors and still like him overall! It helps that his actor was good. Also, he’s another one for the list of Doctor Who characters I totally headcanon as autistic.

Speaking of autism, the Doctor exhibited some rather autistic body language tonight, didn’t she? I don’t remember the exact scene that really struck me, I think it was around the time she gave the “you beautiful humans” speech, I just remember there was this one scene that I just couldn’t stop watching her body language because it reminded me so much of myself. I’ll share what it is whenever I get round to rewatching the episode, haha. (Yeah yeah yeah I know the Doctor’s an alien and a lot of people don’t like autistic-coded aliens and all that. But personally, I love autistic-coded aliens, so I am always very happy to see the Doctor showing autistic traits.)

Uh. I think I had more thoughts on this episode, but I got kind of sidetracked there. But yeah, at any rate, I also just loved that Doctor speech so there was that. I don’t think Whittaker’s really had a proper Iconic Doctor Speech moment before, has she? I think tonight’s episode finally gave her that moment.

The next special looks like a lot of fun too! I haven’t seen any classic Who (I know, I know... I’ll get round to it someday!), so the fandom excitement about the Sea Devils doesn’t really mean much to me. But it looks good, at any rate. And what DOES excite me about the special is that it has Crystal Yu, probably best known to many of my followers as the actress who played Lily Chao in Casualty, in it. So I’m hyped to see her in DW. :D

[user-manual]

new blog feed finished!!!

♫ 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔠: dariacore 2: enter here, hell to the left - leroy ♡ 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔡: ＼(￣▽￣)／ accomplished

I tried my absolute hardest to recreate the Livejournal Flexible Squares layout. The CSS elements generated by Feed2JS is a bit limited, but I uh, made it work the best I could. Holy shit this is janky. Feast your eyes on this absolute garbage fire of code:

So I have a tag that will target any link with 'post' in it, which works since every post title is a link back to the Tumblr post. HOWEVER. If I, for any reason at some point during the future, want to use any link that happens to contain 'post', I will have to put it through a link shortener so it doesn't contain 'post' and won't be styled like the title.

Ahhh I love awful terrible CSS. This is the digital equivalent of duct tape. I didn't have to edit any Javascript in the end (although really I should have but shhh), this will be much less awful when I port it to the Tumblr theme because I can choose what order to display elements in so I don't have to do things like negative margins. I really prefer making things scaleable and responsive to multiple screen sizes and not overly-specific "-51px" shit, but eh it'll work. I've spent the past three days on this though so the Tumblr theme will have to wait, I have a killer headache and I'm going to go eat weed about it.

OH ALSO! The "friends" page will soon have links to other sites/blogs! And I probably broke my "about" page when I deleted all the Zonelets stuff... Sorry, oops. I decided to switch to Tumblr so I don't have to worry about images taking up space on my Neocities, so I can host all of my artwork in the future on my own website. I'm still working on the ref sheet I promise! I just got sidetracked by the prospect of Blog because I saw this post by sadgrl.online and I knew I had to jump on that. Ok going to take a nap byebye

EDIT: I lied it’s just as janky on Tumblr. LOL oh well, if it works then it works! Lots of things in here are link classes, but at LEAST there’s no stylized link parsing. And here I have the added benefit of tags! Yay!

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 00598: Commander Ahsoka Tano

"Is that everyone?" Kix asked the last set of troopers to stagger into the medbay.

"No, there's one more," Appo said with a glance behind himself.

"Stretcher?"

"No, walking wounded." Kix relaxed at Appo's negative. The walking wounded were always in better shape than those who had to use a stretcher for transportation.

Swoop, leaning against Appo's uninjured shoulder, grinned. "This wounded soldier is probably more than 'walking', though."

"The commander?' Kix guessed, and was answered by matching nods. "What happened to her?"

"She was with the captain, so we're not really sure," Appo said slowly. "We were in the group with the general."

Kix shook his head. "Both of you, find a bed. It's going to take me a while to treat the men who are here, and neither of you are at risk of death. Best settle in for the long haul."

Still, Kix had worked his way through the wounded troopers and was finishing with two men who had received injuries more minor than Appo or Swoop. Still, the commander had yet to appear.

After he finished with the men, dismissed them to their bunks, and checked on the ones who had to stay in the medbay, Kix tried calling Commander Tano's comlink, but there was no answer. With a frustrated sigh, he keyed in General Skywalker's comlink code instead.

"Skywalker here."

"General, it's Kix. I heard Commander Tano was injured in the battle, but she hasn't come into the medbay yet," Kix said, feeling somewhere between a concerned medic and a tattling child.

"Seriously? It's been two hours!" Skywalker made a frustrated noise. "Stand by, Kix. I'll call and ask what got her sidetracked."

Kix's comlink went silent for less than a minute before the general called back. "Expect Commander Tano shortly."

Sure enough, the commander appeared only minutes later. She was walking slowly, her posture announcing that she was in pain as clearly as if she had said it. She looked clean, dressed in her casual clothes rather than her armor, but her face was weary and pale under her facial markings.

"Commander," Kix greeted with a frown. "You should sit."

Knowing she wouldn't appreciate being put in a bed immediately, Kix herded Commander Tano toward the well-worn chair tucked under his desk. She sat heavily and leaned her chin on her fist, eyes fluttering closed.

"Commander?" She made an inquisitive sound, but did not open her eyes. "Commander, I need you to tell me what happened."

"I had about twenty men with me. We were fighting to reclaim a ridge outside of Balith's capital city and the Seppie tanks fired on us. The shots went wide and missed us, but they caught the cliffs up above. There was a rockslide."

She stopped talking and Kix frowned. "None of the men had injuries from a rockslide."

"I used the Force to push them away," Commander Tano explained tiredly. "I thought I could move them out of the way and get out before the rocks reached us, but everything happened faster than I expected and I got hit. I dodged the big rocks, but some of the smaller ones got me."

"And why didn't you report here immediately?"

She shrugged. "I meant to, but I knew there were a lot of men waiting and I figured I would shower first. Then, I wanted to sleep more than anything else. Can I just go back to my bunk?"

"Sorry, Commander," Kix refused. "The big concern here is a concussion. I'm going to examine your head, all right?"

"Do I need to open my eyes?"

"Not immediately."

"Then go ahead."

Kix set about examining her montrals and lekku for damage, even going so far as to lift each one to study the undersides. She was bruised in several places, but he wasn't finding much in the way of cuts.

As he examined the commander, Kix kept up a steady stream of questions: "Are you seeing lights in your eyes? Were you unconscious at any time? Is your vision blurred? Any sensitivity to light? Headache? Nausea? Memory problems? Confusion?"

Commander Tano answered no to every question except headache with light sensitivity, but that could very well be a migraine in response to the aftereffects of a rockslide and corresponding adrenaline rush.

"Okay, we've reached the open-eyes section of the examination," he told her, and the commander reluctantly did as he had instructed.

Kix studied her pupils, relieved to find that both were the same size and normally dilated. She tracked his movements without a struggle and grimaced when he gently pinched her arm.

"Well, you've passed all of my tests," he told her, "but you still need to stay the night here so we can make sure you're resting properly."

It was a testament to how the commander felt that she didn't argue. Normally, she would have fought as hard as any one of the men to avoid spending the night in the medbay.

She paused only once to ask, "You aren't going to plug me into a machine or poke me with needles, are you?"

"No, sir. I'll wake you up fairly often and ask you some questions, but no machines and no needles."

"Good," she said with a hint of a smile. "I would hate to have to Jedi you in my sleep because you messed with a needle."

"Considering you lost a game of chicken with a rockslide earlier today, I think I could survive the experience," Kix replied dryly.

"Or did I win a game of chicken?" Commander Tano asked, clambering up and into a bed. "Besides, I wouldn't have gotten hit at all if I hadn't been protecting Rex. That cold has really slowed his reflexes…"

Kix whipped back around to face her. "What cold?" he asked dangerously.

"Uh…" the commander hedged, clearly trying to find a way out of the situation. Kix's narrowed eyes didn't leave her face and she sighed. "The cold he told me not to tell you about."

Kix nodded slowly, already keying the captain's code into his comlink.

---

A/N - Fun fact: these chapters are mostly being posted in the order they were written. I had always planned for Ahsoka's chapter to come out this week, but last week's episode of The Mandalorian really kicked things up a notch! Out of respect for those who haven't seen the episode yet, I won't say anything more. Concerning this week's chapter of this particular story, poor Rex! He's probably in for it from Kix.

Thank you for reading and extra thanks to those who have reblogged in the past. Reblogs are the best way to share the love, guys!

[vagrantblvrd]

AU take on the MCU where “intern” becomes code for “I may or may not have picked up a tray during recent near-death heroics outside of Official Avenge-ering.”

Tony starts it when he comes back after the whole...Mandarin/AIM fiasco with this kid in Tennessee and his sister and so on?

Like.

Pepper is like, omg, Tony, you can’t just keep this kid and his sister, okay? They have parental figure(s) in their lives and also the law frowns on things like that.

But.

Internships are a thing that happens, and it lets her sleep at night, okay?

So.

Tony gets this intern who shows up at the Tower every once in a while with this shiny little ID on a lanyard. His sister comes with him sometimes, and she is every bit as wonderful and terrifying as he is and Nat, Nat, no, you cannot have her, Pepper said something about kidnapping being a bad thing?

But by the time Harley and his sister head back to Tennessee Keener of the exquisite taste in Dora the Explorer timepieces knows three ways (that Tony and Harley are aware of) to bring a grown man to tears/fearing for his very life, so.

Steve’s next, and while it takes a bit more work to fudge the paperwork for his intern, Tony is able to stare General Ross in his beady, beady little eyes and tell him that “Oh, him? Why no, he’s not the Winter Soldier. That’s Captain America’s personal intern, *insert some awful name that is blatantly obvious and fools no one as to said intern’s true identity, but also the whole metal arm thing doesn’t help either*, Rogers picked the man himself. Are you going to call a bastion of patriotism and the whatnot a lying liar who lies, General Ross?”

Somewhere along the line Barton picks up the Bishop kid, and then Peter and various others and the word intern has ceased to hold any meaning to the Avengers or their so-called interns and Pepper is like.

So tired, okay, so tired.

Even the assholes who are like “Really. Really. You’re telling me that is not, indeed, the would-be conqueror of New York City and indeed the world Loki Odinson with the ID badge clipped to his iconic armor and a clipboard?” are half-assing things.

(”Who him? Nah, that’s Loki Laufeyson, totally different guy.”)

And, uh.

Idk, I got sidetracked, just. The Tower or Compound or wherever full of Avengers and their extended family and whatnot they sneak in under guise of “internship” so no one can accuse them of kidnap and other such crimes?

Also.

Assholes like Ross losing their goddamned minds over the fact everyone knows the Avengers are just fucking with them, but the paperwork holds up which makes everything more infuriating, and yes.

(Also, also, Harley and Peter with this ~friendly rivalry over which personal intern Tony loves best, to which Tony closes his eyes and points in a rando direction because the odds are good he’ll land one of the other interns or can claim one of the Avengers as his hush-hush sekrit intern he’s had since forever, no, really, shut up, Harley, Tony can so do that. >:((((((((((((((((

[skullrock]

the partners, chapter two - Steve x Reader

chapter two: there is a light that never goes out

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff] 

chapter summary: You and Steve grow closer; you and Steve are called in to investigate a death

warnings: swearing, panic attacks, mention of death

word count: 3.3k

a/n: things are heating up boys!! next chapter will really kick off the cop stuff. if you haven’t seen it, here’s the Spotify playlist that goes with the series, and you can catch up here. enjoy!

---------

The rest of the week rolls by without many incidents. By the time Friday comes, you’re beaming with excitement.

“We’re still on, right?” You ask him Friday morning, bouncing on your toes.

“Y/N, for the fifteenth time, yes,” he laughs. “I’m not bailing.”

He kind of wishes he could – he hasn’t been able to sleep. He can’t stop worrying. What if this is a mistake? What if you get hurt? What if this all backfires? He can’t let you know this, though, and he’s been grinning through the week.

“Great, do you know where I live?”

“Three streets away from me, Oak Street, the big white house.”

You tilt your head. “How did you—”

“You’re the only person in town with a Walter Mondale sticker on their bumper,” he replies. “I saw your car in your driveway.”

Steve had moved out of his parent’s house about one week after securing the position at the station. His parents had graciously gotten him an “apartment,” which was in fact a nice house in a good spot in town. They paid his rent as a form of gratitude that he was “getting his life together”. He hated that idea, truly, but was happy to be able to live on his own, only worrying about groceries. He was a lot happier now that he was on his own – specifically that he was not living with his father. He did see his mother though, and pretty often, because she would bring him a lunch every few days.

“Creep,” you say, smiling. “Then I’ll see you tonight.”

“Y/N, we have an eight hour shift ahead of us.”

“Whatever. I’ll see you all day and then tonight.”

---------

Steve pulls up around 6:30, and he’s sweating bullets. He honks once, then waits. He finds himself checking himself out in the rearview mirror, and then quickly jerks his head away. It must be some kind of knee-jerk reaction, Steve thinks, picking up a girl feels like a date.

You come out of your house and lock the door, then bolt down the steps to his car. He can feel the energy radiating off of you.

“Hi,” you say as you slip inside.

“You look nice when you’re not wearing a uniform,” he jokes.

“Funny. I was going to say the same about you.” You buckle up and he sets off for Mike’s house.

“Now that you’re hanging out with my friends, am I going to hang out with yours?” he asks.

You deflate slightly. “Well, that’s the thing,” you say quietly, examining your nails. “I um. I don’t really… have any?”

He looks over at you, forehead creasing at your body language. “You don’t have any friends? That’s gotta be bullshit.”

“I did,” you explain. “But then I went to college and I lost touch with people from high school. And then I came back and I lost touch with people from college. So, I really don’t…” you sigh heavily. “Hang out with people.”

He swallows hard. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. If I knew –“

“It’s okay,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s not your fault or anything. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.” You smile and lightly punch his arm. “Since I managed to crawl into your life.”

“Well, you’ll really like the kids,” he says. “Let me give you the rundown.”

He begins to explain all six of them. Dustin Henderson, his best friend, has a bit of a lisp and some disease that “makes him like Gumbo? Gumby? Whatever.” Mike Wheeler, party leader, bit of a drama queen, loyal friend. Lucas Sinclair, funny one of the bunch, dating Max, the redhead, is emotionally mature despite his comedic exterior. Max Mayfield, redhead extraordinaire, metaphorically adopted sister of Steve, super intelligent and strong. Will Byers, “you already know him,” kind and quiet, has been through a lot, deserves the world. Then there’s El.

“El is… different.”

“How?”

“Well…,” he sighs. “She… comes from a bad home. She was… she comes from a bad home. They did bad things to her.”

“Oh.”

“But she’s really great. I’m trying to teach her how to read before she and Will go back to Maine for school. She’s dating Mike, they get along pretty well. She’s really smart, just behind since she never got to go to school.”

You nod. “They all sound like phenomenal kids.”

“They are,” he replies thoughtfully. “Sometimes they’re a pain in the ass, but they’re my pain in the ass.”

You pull into the same large house on Maple Street that you had a few days before and hop out. You’re feeling a bit antsy – so is Steve.

“Wait,” you say. “Doesn’t Nancy live here?”

“Oh.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, but we’re cool. We still talk to each other. And she’s probably out with Jonathan anyway.” He clears his throat, and you reach out and squeeze his arm. “I’m okay,” he laughs. “Come on, let’s go.”

The kids remember you from the other day, and your friendship with Steve helps convince them that you’re a good person. You get along together immediately, laughing and joking like you’re all old friends. Steve beams and Dustin nudges him, making Steve shove him.

“We’re watching The Goonies tonight,” Lucas says, producing the VHS.

“What’s a goonie?” El asks.

“It’s like, a silly person,” Steve explains. “Like Mike.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “We can’t start yet, Robin isn’t here.”

You nearly choke on the soda you were drinking. “Robin? Robin Buckley?”

As if on cue, the door to the basement opens and Robin comes down. You jump up and shout her name. She looks at you, confused for a brief moment, then smiles widely and bounds over to you.

“Oh my God!” you both shout as you embrace. You try to ask each other questions, but they all come out at the same time, making you both laugh.

“Are you going to tell us how you both know each other?” Steve asks, brows drawn together, but smiling, nonetheless.

“We were in band together!” Robin exclaims. “I thought you died or something, you never called!”

“I lost your number when I moved to Indianapolis,” you explain, squeezing her hand. “But I’m back now. I’ve been back for a few months. I work with Steve, at the station.”

Robin snaps her head over to him and glares, making him sink in his seat.

“None of us knew,” Max pipes up. “That Steve works with someone, I mean.”

Robin closes her eyes and shakes her head. She looks back at Steve with a we need to talk kind of look, then turns back to you. “Well, you’re here now, and that’s what matters.”

As the night goes on, you grow more and more comfortable with everyone. You sit and talk to Robin while the rest of the gang plays Monopoly. You could mirror the movie to how the kids act – it’s like they are the Goonies. You watch as they all bicker, Max shoving Lucas over stupid jokes, and El grabbing onto Mike, leaning into him. You watch as Will and Dustin barter with each other, and as Steve calls them all out for “cheating,” which is code for “I really suck at this game and need to explain why I’m losing.”

Your eyes focus on Steve while he explains something to El. It makes your chest swell. It feels like the only thing you can focus on his Steve. How bright his eyes are while talking to his friends, how his brows flit together then part as he laughs. And his laugh. It’s the only thing you can hear, and the sound rings in your ears. He looks up at you and smiles, then goes back to looking at the game board. You snap out of your trance.

“Oh, ew.” It’s supposed to be said in your head, but you say it out loud.

“What?” Robin asks. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah!” you say after a moment. “Yeah, sorry. I just got a little, uh, sidetracked. So, um, are you planning on going to school anywhere?”

Soon enough, it’s one in the morning, and the kids are getting tired. You are, too, and you yawn loudly.

“Let’s go, sleepyhead,” Steve says, holding out his hands to help you off the couch. You take them, swallowing the electricity in your stomach.

“You should come by more often!” Dustin grins.

“Yeah, we need more girls around,” Max says, and you smile back at her.

“You’re welcome in the party anytime,” Mike declares, and the others agree.

You could almost cry at how nice they are. “You guys will never know how… how much…” you sniffle. “How much this night has meant for me.”

“Okay, okay,” Steve says, rubbing your back. “Time to go, buddy.”

“You guys are the best!” you say through tears, and Steve shushes you gently, guiding you upstairs.

“Steve!” Dustin shouts, and bounds up behind him. Steve rolls his eyes and tells you to head out to the car.

“You better bring her around again.” Dustin squeezes his arm and Steve rolls his eyes once more.

“We mean it!” Will says. “She’s cool.”

“You guys don’t even like me this much,” Steve huffs, to which Robin replies, “Yes, because you’re a dingus. Y/N is cool.”

“Goodnight!” Steve groans, continuing upstairs.

He unlocks the car and you both get in.

“Thank you,” you whisper, eyes shining, “for taking me out.”

“Of course,” he hums. “Next time it can just be us, without kids and Robin.”

Your stomach flips and you ignore it again. “I’d really like to.”

You both make conversation as you head down the darkened streets. You think the town at night is beautiful and serene. Steve thinks it’s eerie and threatening. He really didn’t like going out at night much anymore, and he typically had to talk himself up if he was leaving somewhere past 9 pm. You notice the change in his energy, how he is suddenly gripping the steering wheel a bit too tight.

You begin to ask him if he’s alright, but a deer scampers across the road. It’s not very close, and maybe required just a slight brake, but Steve throws his arm out to pin you to your seat and slams on the brakes. The car slides to a halt and you slam back against the seat; thankfully Steve threw his arm over you, or you’d probably have a severe case of whiplash.

When the car stills, you look over at him, eyes wide and heart skipping. He looks like he aged 50 years in ten seconds. His eyes are huge, jaw clenched tightly. A crease on his forehead. His body is stiff and he is leaning forward, almost like he’s about to fight. He looks, quite honestly, like death.

“Steve,” you breathe. “Are you okay?”

Steve throws the car into park. He squeezes his eyes shut and blinks a few times, eventually relaxing in his seat. Although his body is relaxed, you can hear how his breathing is a quick staccato, not slow. He runs a hand through his hair once, twice, three times. It sounds like he’s drowning, and his eyes are filled with tears when he looks at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers hoarsely. “I’m sorry – I thought –“

His eyes can’t focus. They run around in his head, back at the road, to you, to the steering wheel, to his hands, to the road again.

You realize he’s having a panic attack.

“Hey, hey,” you coo. “Look at me, Steve.”

He faces you, but his eyes are still moving rapidly, and his breathing is becoming quicker. You see him swallow hard.

“You’re safe,” you say, reaching out and taking a hand. “It was just a deer. You’re safe. I’m here.”

He nods stiffly. “No – I know that – I just thought….” I just thought it was a Demogorgon. No big deal. He clamps his eyes shut again and you see tears fall.

“Steve, look at me. Focus on me, okay?”

He nods lightly and does, and you see his pupils focus in on you.

“Breathe with me, alright? In and out.” You exaggerate your breathing, deeply in through the nose and out through the mouth. He tries to keep up and pace himself, but it takes a few tries.

“You’re doing great,” you say quietly, and squeeze his hand. “Can you pull the car over for me?”

He does as you ask, eyes scanning the road ahead. His bat is in the trunk (he figured he should hide it before you see it), and he considers getting out to grab it. You pull him back to reality.

“Look at me.” His eyes meet yours again. “I’m going to teach you something, okay? It’s based on your senses. Can you tell me five things you hear?”

He blinks. “I hear the engine… I hear your breathing… I hear the radio… I hear my breathing… I hear my heart beating.”

You nod. “Okay, good. Four things you can see?”

“Uh….” His eyes flick back to the road and you gently pull his head back to look at you.

“I’ll focus on the road, okay? Just tell me four things you see in the car.”

“I see you… I see my hands… I see the steering wheel… I see the light from the stereo.”

“Three things you smell?”

“My cologne, your perfume, gasoline.”

“Two things you can feel?”

“Your skin and the seat under me.”

You smile. “This one’s tough. One thing you can taste.”

Steve pauses. “Coca-Cola?”

“Perfect,” you say, squeezing his hand again. “Do you feel better?”

He does; he’s not fully grounded, but he’s feeling better than he did a few minutes ago. He can breathe normally again, and his body is a bit more relaxed. He nods and you let his hand go.

“You’re okay,” you repeat. “You’re safe.”

“I’m okay,” he breathes. He reaches up and wipes his eyes, laughing slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“Do not apologize.” You don’t really know what just happened, but you know whatever he’s going through must be tough. “Your feelings are valid. It’s okay to feel that way, Steve.”

Steve sighs heavily, and after a few minutes, he puts the car in drive.

“Don’t take me home,” you request. “I can walk.”

“What? No way. I’m taking you to your house.”

“Steve,” you say. “Sometimes you need to take care of yourself before you take care of others. I can walk, dude, it’s only 15 minutes, max.”

He wants to refute your claim. He wants to believe he’s strong enough to just take you home and forget about it all, but all he wants to do is crawl into bed and sleep until the afternoon. He just wants to forget. So he pulls into his driveway and shuts the car off. He sits there for a few moments before finally saying, “I’m sorry I ruined tonight.”

“Steve.” You can’t help but to laugh. “I haven’t been this happy in so long. I don’t care – I don’t mind that you got… spooked. And we don’t ever have to talk about it again. I don’t care what happens as long as I’m with you.”

The corners of his mouth perk up. “Oh no, Y/N. Don’t fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes and nudge him, smiling. That’s the Steve you knew.

You reach into the center console, finding an old receipt and a pen.

“Here,” you say, scribbling. “Here’s my number.” You shove the receipt towards him, and he takes it.

Steve writes his number on the bottom of the receipt and rips it off. “And here’s mine. You better call me when you get home. Like, the minute you go through the door.”

“I promise.”

You both get out of the car.

“I really did have fun,” you say. “I hope I see you soon.”

He nods. Part of you wishes he would say it back, but you understand. As you’re walking off, he calls after you.

“Y/N!”

“Yeah?”

He licks his lips. “Thank you.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile and salute, continuing off into the night.

---------

You awake Monday morning at 1 am to your phone ringing. You quickly sit up in bed and grab it.

“Hello?”

“Y/N.” It’s Steve. “I need your help.”

Your eyebrows knit together, and you look at your clock. “Are you okay?”

“I….” He huffs. “I’m trying to make danishes for everyone at the station? But everything I do is wrong, and there’s flour everywhere—”

“It’s one in the god damn morning!” You exclaim. “We have work in seven hours.”

“Yeah,” he says, like you’re the idiot. “Why do you think I’m making them now?”

You close your eyes. You want to be annoyed, but it’s honestly hilarious. “Okay, Steve. I’ll be there in a few.”

You arrive and knock on the door, and you’re greeted by Steve. He is covered in flour, and he looks nearly as stressed as he was Friday night.

You gawk at him. “What—”

“Just – come in,” he insists, grabbing you and pulling you inside.

Steve has a really nice house. Or apartment, or whatever he wants to call it. He takes you through the living room, then dining room, and into the kitchen, where there is even more flour. It looks like a bomb went off.

“So,” he starts, pacing around the kitchen, creating tracks in the flour-covered floor. “I’m trying to make these, right? And it says to put flour and butter into a blender. And so I did. And like, it’s fine, it’s going great, but then I guess I added too much flour, and now it’s everywhere. And this fucking dough is supposed to chill for 6 hours and we have work in 7.”

“Where is your recipe?”

He hands you a sheet of paper and you scan over it.

“Steve,” you groan. “Are you even following this?” You look up at him. “How did you even manage to mix the yeast and water correctly?”

He leans on the counter and puts his head in his hands. “I don’t think I did.”

You burst into laughter. You can hardly keep yourself upright. Your ribs and jaw hurt, but you can’t stop. Steve seems annoyed at first, but then starts laughing with you.

“No matter what, you couldn’t have these done in the morning,” you say, wiping your eyes. “Why did you think this was a good idea?”

He shrugs hopelessly. “I just wanted to be nice, and I couldn’t sleep.”

You both resolve to cleaning up and starting again. You would make the dough and let it chill, and then continue making them that night.

You watch from afar, giving Steve tips and reading the directions out for him. He’s not super helpless when someone is directing him. When it comes time to fold the dough, though, he’s doing it wrong.

“No,” you say, jumping up and coming behind him. “You fold like this.”

You take his hand and help him get the technique right. After a few moments, your cheeks start to burn, and you feel that same chest-swelling feeling that you had at Mike’s house. You slow your movements and Steve follows, until you completely stop. He turns back to look at you, and you notice how close you are to him.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Steve drops the spatula he was using and hurries off into the living room, looking paler than usual.

“Hello?” you hear him ask. There’s a long pause before he says, “Do you want Y/N to come too?” Another pause. “Okay. We’ll be right there.”

He comes back into view and looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“Who was it?” you ask, heart beating fast.

“It was the Chief. There’s a dead body at Rimborn Steelworks.”

--------

tags (message if you want to join!): @harrington-ofhawkins​ @wolfish-willow​ @gothackedalready​

[mcfanely]

Nightowls

Deception (noun), an act or statement which misguides or hides the truth. 

Chapter 08 - Behind the Mask, 2541 words

The pulse of music was quickly becoming deafening. Or maybe that was the pounding feeling Cole could feel in his chest? He was a deer in headlights, and he must have looked the part too. Eyes wide, face frozen as he went through a range of emotions just to find whichever one fitted with this situation. It was something he hadn't even thought about.

It hadn't even crossed his mind for a sheer second, even with all the times he'd snuck out, all the close calls and half-baked excuses he'd had to come up with on the fly for being up really early in the morning, or sleeping in really late. 

Sure, saying he was tired and needed the sleep was the truth, but there was background. Cole was keeping so much from everyone and the idea of getting caught out and having to actually explain it all… Well, whether he'd avoided thinking about it, or it had just not occurred to him, he was now caught out and floundering. 

"... Lloyd. Hey..?" He spluttered out uselessly, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He was nervous. He didn't know what to do. There was the oppressive feeling of awkwardness in his own skin as he took stock of himself. Lloyd had been there, and he'd seen. "I-- Uh, you know, it's not really what it looks like, you know? I mean, it's late," Cole trailed off after a second, one foot tapping heavily against the floor. Any sound was drowned out by the next song beginning. 

Lloyd was still standing there, right in front of him, his eyes slowly flicking over Cole for a second before they moved to glance over the Earth Master's shoulder, presumably to the new dancer that was now performing. 

He just looked calm, and extremely interested in what was going on. The guy may have looked a bit odd, dancer wasn't anyone first thought when looking at Lloyd, mainly because the left feet that the kid possessed was probably the worst case Cole had ever seen. He was fairly lanky, bobbing slightly off beat to the music, but Cole wasn't going to correct him. He was too busy freaking out. 

"Woah, those guys are good!" Lloyd said after a second, with a wide grin as he moved closer to the open area. There was a pair in the centre, both seamlessly blending a clear ballet style with swing. The song was upbeat too, and the guys were definitely brimming with talent. 

On any other night, Cole could just stand there and watch. 

"Lloyd," He stared, stepping just a bit more in front of him. 

The Green Ninja looked over to him after a second, though Cole knew he didn't really have the kid's attention. 

So he went silent. He stepped back, crossed his arms over his chest tightly, tried to force the tenseness out of his shoulders to no clear avail and waited. Waited the agonising few minutes until the dancing stopped. This was worse than everything he'd been going through before his performance. He'd go through it again, if he had a choice. He wouldn't even think twice, if it meant Lloyd not having been there. 

So as the dancers took their bows and exited the floor, Cole had one hand carding through his hair and the other gripping the fabric of his jumper just for something to do to keep them busy. 

Then Lloyd turned back around, and Cole didn't even know where to begin. 

Or he did. 

"You can't tell anyone." He said quickly. 

Lloyd's reaction was a slight frown, "What?" 

"You can't tell the guys. I know that you saw me dance, and you can't tell them."

"Cole--"

Cole tugged on his hair lightly, then blew a heavy breath out of his nose. He needed to take a moment, to just breathe and think. 

Why didn't Lloyd seem as bothered by this as he was? 

"You were great." He said plainly, 

"I-- what." 

"You were awesome." There was a slight laugh to Lloyd's voice, but it wasn't anything mocking. It was light, brief, as if he was impressed. "Like, I knew you could dance. You dance in the kitchen all the time."

"No, I don't--"

"You do." Lloyd stated. "You really do."

At that, Lloyd started edging from the crowd, pausing for a second to make sure Cole was following before continuing on his way. They ended up standing at the mirrored wall of the studio. 

He spared a glance at himself. At all the neon paint and dishevelled hair, and an expression that looked torn between excitement of getting his routine done, to a physical depiction of the amalgamation of feelings he was experiencing due to Lloyd also being there. 

Lloyd who was awake at what was now probably three in the morning, looking as alert as if it was the middle of the day and not pitch black outside. Lloyd who'd said that what he'd done was awesome and then the conversation had dropped out. 

"You look like the physical embodiment of 'pacing a hole into the floor'." the silence was now broken, deep green eyes floating over the built up crowd before going back to Cole. 

Who just wiped a hand down his face, "What're you doing here?" A solid place to start. 

"I followed you." It was said plainly, so easily. It was obvious, but Cole didn't want to believe he'd been caught out. 

"And here I was thinking I was getting good at sneaking out." Cole sighed, shoving his hands into his pocket. Though a small smile sprung up in the corner of his mouth, blatant sarcasm never failed to lighten the mood. "It's past your bedtime, squirt,"

"Past yours too, old-timer."

There was a brief pause, before the both of them let out a laugh. It wasn't forced, it came out easily, even around the clogging sensation he could feel in his throat. So he was still nervous. 

Cole sighed and leant against the mirror. Lloyd had seen him, so what? It wasn't as if he could take it back or delete it from anyone's memory, what happened had happened, and that was that. 

Lloyd knew, and that was that. 

"So," He started slowly, elbowing the younger ninja's arm just a little harder than necessary, then shot him a grin as compensation. "You thought I was good?" 

Lloyd nodded for a moment, before he seemed to realise he wasn't actually saying anything, just letting his body speak for the thoughts that seemed to be going through his head. "Yeah. Just… Yeah," He grinned, "I have to be honest, I didn't realise it was you at first."

Small victories. 

"I followed you in here and then I sort of, you know," He waves his hands around for a second, as if gesturing to everything, "Got sidetracked. I was watching people dance and I realised I had no idea where you'd gotten to, and I looked a little but I couldn't find you, so I just, you know?" 

"Went back to watching?" Cole finished, tilting his head. "This place draws you in, doesn't it?" 

There was a quiet him of acknowledgement, barely audible over the music. Then, "It drew you in, didn't it?" It sounded like a statement as much as a question. 

Cole just nodded. 

Lloyd took a moment, shifting onto his toes as if he could see the current dancers better from where he was, even though he was clear on the other side of the room and he wasn't the tallest anyway. Though he seemed to find a point where he could see, because he stopped shifting about and held his position for a good minute before actually moving again.

Cole took the break to gather his thoughts. Lloyd knew everything; he was here, he was enjoying himself but that also meant there were currently two vacant beds back at the monastery. Something which greatly increased the chance that their absence would be noticed by a tenfold. That was if someone decided to do a random room inspection in the dead of night. Weirder things had happened. Was it worth risking it, or should he be dragging Lloyd out at that moment so they could start the walk back home? 

He must have been staring, because the next moment Lloyd was just in front of him, holding something in his hands and turning it over slowly.

"I didn't recognise you until around half way into the song. The mask threw me off to be honest, and the paint." He made a loose gesture to the neon glow that he was still emitting. The lines were crisp, bright, though some areas of the paint had cracked with movement. 

Then Cole realised that the thing that Lloyd was holding was his mask. The conniving colour coded nightmare must have snagged it off his belt.

Yet, he just watched, and made no immediate move to take it back. It wasn't like he was worried Lloyd would break it, it wasn't like he'd not dropped it or sat on it himself in the past couple weeks. Lloyd had seen him dance, what was one mask in comparison to that? 

Then he paused, the mask face up. 

"Is this design based on--?" 

"Yeah. It is." Cole confirmed. Now, he reached over and took it into his hands. Lloyd didn't seem put about by it, even with all the negative connotations around the look. Deep orange, sharp grey and white marks framing the eyes, teeth painted abstractly with the same orange neon paint that Cole had marked on his chin to complete the look. It was illuminated, eye catching, and worked as a way to draw attention from the person that was beneath it. 

Apparently, it seemed to do its job. 

"Why'd you pick that? Why not something else, like a dragon, or a serpentine?" The question wasn't accusatory, just full of curiosity. Lloyd was digging for details, reasoning, an explanation even. 

"It's a funny story, actually." Cole turned the mask over in his hands, tugging at the elastic strap on the back. Honestly, the thing was overall impractical. It was tight and always left a ridge on his nose where it rested, the elastic made his hair stick up on end. But it served a purpose, it separated him from the guy that walked into the middle of the floor. It hid his face so the only thing people would know about him was his ability to dance, not that he was the Elemental Master of Earth or one of the ninja that had saved Ninjago multiple times over, or the son of a Royal Blacksmith. 

He was just someone who could dance.

It was also a slight joke. An internal and personal way of handling a traumatic event. 

He'd fallen from the Bounty, somehow survived and avoided being affected by the darkness that had descended, he'd made it back to the monastery in time for the final fight and eventual victory. Then he relieved that fear and horror, the sensation of falling with no one there to catch him but the earth that was racing up towards nearly every night when he closed his eyes. 

The Oni Mask of Deception, created in the visage of an Oni. The same Oni species that hadn't been able to take Cole's life even when he'd been so close to death. The Oni who had been prevented from taking over Ninjago by a combined family that stood against them and didn't give up against all odds. 

He'd suffered from nightmares for so long. But now, he wore the mask and had fun. He wore it because in doing so, it was proof he survived and he was still going. 

"I deceived death." Cole gave a quiet laugh after a second. Lloyd just watched. "When everyone thought I was gone, I came back. And me being here," He gestured to the crowd, to the speakers and the now pulsing music that he had to raise his voice slightly to talk over, even on the quieter side of the room, "It's like a 'screw you'. I'm having fun and here I can just be me. I can stop worrying and stop thinking and just feel." He grinned, probably the widest and most honest one he'd done so in a while. 

It was freeing, dance was freeing. 

"I can dance, and I can do it without caring what anyone thinks of me." Cole concluded slowly, his eyes watching Lloyd, expression relaxed and gentle. "I get to be both myself, and someone entirely new."

"Do you think you can't be yourself and a dancer?" 

He paused, his brow furrowed lightly. "It's not that, it's just, it makes it all easier, hiding behind a mask. You nearly didn't recognise me."

That made the younger ninja duck his head, letting out a slight laugh, "Yeah, I should have recognised the worn shoes and bad fashion sense."

Cole gaped. 

"Bad--? I swear, training tomorrow--" 

"You mean later today?" 

"Whatever. I'm going to kick your ass."

"Cole!" Cole's attention shot up in an instant, away from any murderous intent he had towards Lloyd and shifted over to the walking neon collage heading towards them. 

"Chamille?" Lloyd questioned after a second of staring, his eyes squinted as if it had taken a second for him to place her. 

She simply made her way forwards, shot Lloyd a quick and wide smile, along with a wave. "Hey, look at you! You've grown."

"Uh…"

"Anyway, I'm here to borrow Cole." She took his wrist and started pulling lightly. "You don't mind, right? He'll be gone four minutes tops."

Lloyd took a moment before he leant back against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed over his chest. "I don't mind." It was clear he was enjoying what was happening far too much, and Cole noticed the second he clocked his expression, because a smirk soon settled on Lloyd's mouth. "Dancing?" 

"Yep." Chamille popped the P and pulled harder until Cole finally gave and took a step. 

"Don't I get a say in this?" He questioned. 

The simultaneous "No." from both parties made him do a double take, then just sigh. Lloyd and Chamille shared a look; they were clearly on the same page. One that benefited the both of them and not the earth ninja stuck in the middle of their escapade. Sometimes it was just like babysitting, especially when he seemed to be stuck with the position of 'dad friend' in the group. It didn't help that Lloyd acted serious, but when push came to shove he was as immature as Kai on a good day. 

"Dance competition, Cole." She said, as if that was all the reasoning she needed to get him moving faster, "Tyler says winners get bragging rights and free drinks."

"Free drinks?"

"Lloyd," Cole rolled his eyes, "You're underage."

"Dancing, bragging rights! Come on," Chamille pulled harder, before Cole eventually gave up and followed along behind her towards the centre of the floor. 

He could hear Lloyd's laugh behind him, along with a shouted, "I'll find you afterwards!" 

Cole just rolled his eyes, and followed Chamille through the crowd, pulling his mask on as he went.

-

From the beginning

Ch 07 > Ch 08 > Ch 09

AO3

[marvinswriting]

Gut feeling

Prompt: no prompt in this one buddies, just check out bear's borrower!janis au. Like my g/t mg au its something i thought about a lot but never officially put down anywhere, but she did and you fucking bet im gonna write it

This is a long one boys, and there's still more i wanna write lmfao

Think about everything you know about borrowers-

-and throw it out the fucking window.

Yep, fuck your stereotypes. I'm Janis, and yeah I guess your right about the whole tiny-people-who-live-in-walls-and-steal. You're also creepily accurate with your borrower's code (so I wanna know who blabbed. Probably Gretchen, god. I always wonder where she was before this house). I'm sidetracked. Other then that, you guys got it all wrong. 

We are very much aware of the concept of not all humans wanna kill or harm borrowers. Thank you very much. 

We just know most of them do.

And we aren't as rare as you may think. Lots of humans know about borrowers, and you all think we're a dying species or a myth. No. We're just good at what we do, thank you. The goal is to live undetected. It's safer that way.

We also don't live totally alone, isolated in walls. Well, some of us do, and some of us wish we did. (Me, it's me, I hate my roommates.)

I live with Gretchen and Kevin. Won't call them friends, because they're not. We aren't close enough. We keep each other around because we'd go insane without the interaction from others. A borrowers life can be boring and isolated.

Its the total opposite of a human's. When the owners of the house sleep, we're awake doing food runs. When the owners of the house are awake, we're hiding away, tucked in bed.

And for a long time that worked. But then something changed. I think the owners of the house called it 'the school year ended'? Now the boy, Damian- from what we've gathered he's our age. But who knows, it's not like we can just go up and meet him. He definitely seems to be the most sympathetic one of the family. 

The dad kills any fucking bug without even getting a good look, so like- don't get caught with him (not that you wanna get caught with any of them). 

The mom watches a lot of gory sci-fi shows that always end up with the main character in some type of experimental facility so we don't trust her. 

Damian just hides in his room, playing music and singing along. I like it, its harder for us to be heard that way. 

The final member of the household is the fucking cat. Her name is Ariel which is supposedly a reference to some princess, but the only royal she is is a royal pain. Little bitch almost killed me once. 

I'm so off track though. 

Apparently, this 'school year' is over, and now Damian is home all the time. He doesn't have to get up early to leave so he's opted to not sleeping at night at all. Which is just great for us. He doesn't often leave his room, but Gretch, Kevin, and I have to be a lot more careful often resulting in us grabbing a lot less.

I glance around my 'bedroom'. Through the years I like to think it's grown to be decorated nicely. Unlike my two roommates, I pride myself in my living space. I spend most of my time here, so why not. Yeah, I have the necessities, but I also have other things like plants and makeshift art supplies. In the corner of my room is what you could call a bed and a bottle cap nightstand. There's a piece of a mirror hanging. We all found mirror shards and took them, and might I say life hasn't quite been the same since. 

We don't really look at ourselves that often, there aren't many reflective surfaces to do so. Yeah, I'd catch my face staring back at me in my water, or on a shiny surface, but it was never as clear as the mirror. As I look right now, I just look stressed.

Pretty accurate.

I've got a weird feeling about tonight.

"We need food."

"No shit Gretchen." 

Gretchen and I are sitting in our combined space, waiting for Kevin. I'm hesitant to call it a living room because it hardly looks lived in. There are four beer cap chairs (and three of us, it's fucking stupid- I know) a pizza saver as a table, and a bunch of miscellaneous items that haven't found a home yet.

"Hubbards are asleep." Kevin walks out from where he was keeping watch. "The kids light is still on and I couldn't locate the cat, are we sure we want to go out tonight."

"We need food," Gretchen repeats herself.

"We don't have much of a choice," I say, shoving makeshift grappling hooks and double-sided tape into my satchel, and grabbing another bad for food. "We gotta make a big run tonight. We can't guarantee a day by day flow anymore, Damian has to unpredictable of a sleep schedule."

Gretchen makes a noise of agreement, packing up her own things.

Kevin is still peaking out of the exit into the household, worriedly. 

"Janis are you down for that trip tonight? You look stressed as fuck."

I bitterly. "Yeah, I'm just- tired. And hungry. And quite frankly I may be coming down with something."

"They stay away from me," Gretchen says, swinging her bag over her shoulder. "Ready?"

"Let's just grab food and go," Kevin says before spinning around to look at me. "Only food, Janis."

I nod. No point in trying to defend myself when he's not wrong. I have an awful habit of finding something I could use for art and going out of my way to grab it.

But we have priorities tonight. 

We file out into the household, all pressing against the wall. The exit we used lead right to the floor. Its a debate on which was riskier, but I for one, preferred to be higher. Further from the cat and a better view of everything. Kevin mumbled something about keeping watch and made his way over to the island table the Hubbard had. He pulled out his climbing supplies and made his way up as Gretchen and I continued our trek across the floor, waiting to reach the kitchen to get to higher grounds. 

"It hasn't been this hard since we all moved here." Gretchen says quietly, but I understand.

"Yeah." I whisper.

We all moved into this house together maybe two ago. We tell time by the day and the decor around the house. Humans often put of decorations for holidays and it's like marking points though the year. My least favorite holiday happens during the summer. I don't know the name but everything turns red white and blue and there's tons of loud booms and explosions. It kills my ears and sends me into sensory overload every time.

 We've pasted two Christmases. I don't know much about the holiday, but its the most decorated, with fancy trees and cookie crumbs everywhere. A borrower's dream. But it wasn't like that now. It was hot and sticky, food got left out on the counter less. We haven't eaten anything more then the minimum to survive, if you don't count yesterday where we didn't eat at all. 

I was so lost in my thought for food, I almost didn't hear it. Kevin calling out, the patter of paws on the floor-

-oh shit. 

I whirl around just in time to have a paw whacked with my side. 

Cat.

There was no claw, Ariel is here for a game of cat and mouse obviously. Roles already clear. 

That didn't make it hurt less though.

I groan skidding across the floor, curled into myself. 

Gretchen shrieks and runs away, the cat's interest on me.

She left me for fucking dead.

Wow.

Rude, but unsurprising.

I'd fucking bolt too. I wonder if Kevin ran as well. 

My heart stops as the truth of the statement catches up to me. 

I'm gonna die.

I'd like to say there's so much I still haven't done, or that my life had only just begun. But that wasn't true. I live to borrow another day and borrow to live another day. But I was content like that, I don't wanna die.

Ariel stalks towards me again. I sit up and push my self backward, only to find a wall.

Fuck.

I can see Gretchen duck back into the wall out of the corner of my eye, Kevin with her.

To be fair, I'd do the same. I can't bring myself to be too mad.

"Hey, kitty," I say softly, holding my hands out in defense. The cat sits down in front of me, eyes wide and pupils dilated, ready to play. "Ariel, right? Good kitty. I'm not a toy."

Ariel doesn't seem to get the message as she lifts her paw.

No!

"Hey, whatcha got there girl?" A voice comes from behind the cat. 

My blood runs colder than it already was. 

That was to loud to be Gretchen or Kevin, to masculine to be the mom, not deep enough to be the dad-

Hands pull Ariel away despite a mew of protest, leaving me totally exposed in the open. 

Put the cat back I'd rather die that way.

My eyes connect with the boy of the household- Damian. His gaze travels up and down my small form and he lets out breathy 'what?'.

Once again, I know not all humans are bad, but you try not even being four inches call, curled up against a wall with a full ass living moving human standing there. It's a lot.

Damian kneels down so he isn't towering over me but it doesn't feel any better. I push myself closer to the wall, ignoring the pain in my side.

"Are- I uh-" Damian seems as equally at a loss as I am. 

Don't worry buddy, I didn't think I'd be getting caught tonight either.

"Are you okay?"

I can't exactly say I've been caught before, so I don't exactly know the 'this is a bad guy' red flags, but asking about my well being probably isn't one of them. 

"Yeah." I say, shakily. My voice is weak and seems a lot quieter in contrast to the boy's in front of me.

"I'm sorry about her." Damian said, placing the cat down. Ariel glares at me before walking away, clearly bored.

I could tell we were dancing around the important questions. What are you? Why are you so small? What are you doing here?

"My name's Damian."

I almost say 'I know' but believe it or not- I do have manners and hey, this human hasn't killed you yet, don't be rude and give him a reason to.

"Janis." I say, giving a small wave. 

"Janis," Damian repeats like he's testing the name in his mouth. "It's pretty."

"Thank you." I glance around but as I suspected, my roommates did not even attempt to come back. 

"You're a borrower." Damian states. It wasn't a question and his voice sounded sure, but his raised eyebrow told a different story.

"Yeah, we're real, just-" I take a breath. "Uncommon?"

Damian nods. He knew what I was right off the bat which probably means I'll have less explaining to do. It also made me feel safer in a way. It meant he's less curious. Not to mention he has yet to move any closer or invade my space, so I felt okay. I push myself off the wall a bit, trying to ignore how my head spins a bit from lack of nutrients. 

"I'm sorry if I interrupted whatever you were doing. We'll leave if you don't want us here or-"

"No, it's okay. I honestly am glad I stepped in then I did- wait, we?"

Shit.

It was one thing to expose myself, but not I'm mentally hitting myself for exposing Gretchen and Kevin too.

"There are multiple of you?"

"Nonono forget I said anything." I wave my hand as if waving away nonexistent flies. 

Damian looks like he wants to press more but doesn't. "What are you doing out here? It's like, four am."

"It's still early for me. We- I need food." 

Damian's eyes light up. "Of course! Oh my god, I'm so sorry then. Do you-" He pauses. "Do you need help?"

My instinct is to decline but- there hasn't been much food out and Damian seems genuine. Its either die by cat or human. "Yeah, help would be nice."

Damian smiles softly. "Can I pick you up?"

What?

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah. 

Riiiight.

"Yeah, you can." I smile, trying to seem brave about this, but I've never been picked up before. The only time I'm off the ground is with my climbing tools with my fate in my own hands. 

Damian places his hand down next to me, it's huge. The sheer size difference doesn't sink in when somebody is crouched a couple of human feet away from you. 

I step onto his hand regardless, trying not to concentrate on how weird it feels. 

"You ready?" Damian's voice asked from above.

Was I ready?

Why did I think this was a good idea?

I could die right here right now.

I don't know anything about this kid other than his name and his favorite musical soundtrack. 

What if he's bad news?

"Yeah, I'm good." I say, despite my inner turmoil. 

The ground beneath me shifts and as much as I like to think I was mentally prepared, physically I was not as I ungracefully fall backward into Damian's palms.

"You okay?" He asks, freezing. 

He was as nervous as I was.

This sudden realization gave me a bit more confidence in the situation.

"Mhmm," I say, patting the hand beneath me gently. "Thanks."

"Of course." Damian says, and we're moving again. Its a significantly shorter trip from here to the kitchen for Damian. He holds me close to his chest, his fingers curled around me slightly. Its comforting, and contrary to what I expected, I don't feel ready to drop. I can see Ariel curled up contently on the couch, and the entrance to my home from here. One of them at least. I wonder if my roommates are watching or if they're already cleaning out my room. 

Damian places his hand on the table and I get off on my own.

It feels better up here, to be further up. I don't feel as small when Damian steps away. 

"You've made it clear it's just you," He does air quotes. "But how many people do you take food for."

The lie of 'it is only me' is the first thing on my tongue, but I hold it. Damian has done nothing but help me so far and he already knows there's multiple of us. No harm in giving exact numbers.

"Three," I say. "One with a big appetite." I smile as Kevin comes to mind. 

Damian grins. "What do you normally take?"

"Whatever is out." I shrug, glancing around at the table. Just like the past couple of times, the tables were empty.

Damian notices this and is silent for a bit. "I'll have to conveniently forget to put stuff back then." He says quietly. I can't tell if he was talking to me or himself but I smile nonetheless. 

"So, you've never had options?"

"No." I say. It feels weird to admit that. Damian grins. 

"Guess you're in luck. Wait here." He turns around and walks over to a cabinet. Where am I supposed to even go? 

His back isn't turned long enough to let me figure that out, because he soon comes back with two things. "So I brought this because I want you to try it," Its a cookie, I know that much from Christmas, but instead of decorative frosting and sprinkles its dotted with splotches of brown. "It's a chocolate chip cookie. And I brought this for practical reasons." He lifts up a bag. "Its granola and it comes in these little chunks- well for you they'd be big, but you can just break them off as you need!"

I smile at the thoughtfulness. Maybe this kid isn't all bad news. 

He opens the bag and pours a bit into his hand before placing one on the table. Sure enough, a cluster of granola is just big enough to fit maybe two into my bag. I can break off a piece and it will last days (assuming Kevin doesn't go to town).

"Woah." I say softly, picking it up. This is the most food I've ever even been near in one place. 

Damian chuckles as I carefully place the granola into my bag miraculously fitting three. One for each of us. Damian watches me silently, I guess we're both still stying to wrap our heads around the situation. 

"Oh! I almost forgot!" He picks up the cookie breaking off a piece and handing it to me. It's the size of my head but I can just save what's left for later. Damian takes the rest for himself, watching as I silently break a piece off to eat. 

It's grainy but smooth a the same time. Sweet and salty. It's-

"Woah." 

Damian laughs, its loud and sudden, but also contagious.

I giggle a bit as I feel my face flush. I know he's not laughing at me maliciously.

"They're good right?"

"Yeah." 

We fall into silence, and I look around. I've been up on the counters before, but I've always been in a rush, get food, and get out. I've never been this relaxed in the open and certainly never so close to a human. 

I look up at Damian and he smiles. "What are you gonna do now?"

"Huh?"

"I don't know how true the stories are but isn't this where you leave and never come back because you've been caught? I won't tell anyone if you don't want to leave."

He had a point. But- the borrower's code wasn't law. More like- recommended guidelines? I mean, not true at all, but it's not written in stone or anything. Borrower police aren't gonna break in and arrest me or anything.

I think.

Besides, I didn't want to leave. I liked my room and my roommates (not that I'd admit that to them). They don't need to know I met a human. And Damian said he wouldn't tell anyone-

"How do I know I can trust you?"

The question had a lot more of an edge then I expected, but Damian didn't seem to take offense. 

"You don't. But, follow your instincts. I'm not trying to trick you or anything if that's what your thinking."

He did help me get food. Which saved my life. He also saved me from the cat, which saved my life too. Even before he knew I existed, he always seemed to be the nicest Hubbard. Something tells me his word is good.

"I think I'm gonna stay," I say after a while.  "I'll just- never tell my roommates about this. One of them flips over everything. She'd pack in an instant if she knew."

Damian smiled. "I understand if you hope to never see me again and if you wanna just walk away like this never happened, but I'll be sure to leave granola out every once in a while."

I grin. "Thanks, Damian." It felt weird to be so close to a human and already trust them so much. Something deep inside told me that this wasn't the last time we'd see each other, and that's okay.

"I figure you can get down on your own? You don't want me to know where you live or anything."

I shook my head, patting my climbing tools. "I got this from here. Thank you so much for your help."

"Of course, Janis. I'll take Ariel to my room to make sure she doesn't cause any trouble. Maybe I'll see you around, hopefully not under any life or death circumstances though." Damian grins before walking away, leaving me alone in the kitchen. I can hear him call out to the cat followed by padding of paws as a door closes. I almost feel as if I've hallucinated the whole thing, but the weight of the granola in my bag proves to me otherwise. 

I begin to take out a hook and rope while I think of what I'm gonna tell my roommates. Gretchen will flip either way and I don't think Kevin will believe me that I was able to fend off a cat alone, but it's what I have to do if I don't want to move. Besides, deep down I feel like I can trust the teen of the Hubbard household. 

Let's just hope my gut isn't wrong. 

alt title: how borrower janis got hooked on granola tag list!!! @realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

[supraveng]

Agent of Shield - Chapter 2

Summary: You are a relatively new agent at Shield, but not a field agent, apparently that is about to change when you meet the Avengers and they realize you are a valuable asset

Word count:2259

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

I wake up Sunday morning around 5am, I can’t remember the last time I slept for a full 8 hours like that, but I feel so refreshed that I hop right up and head to the kitchen.   Checking my phone while my coffee brews, I see a text from my dad just before midnight last night.  

Pops: Pumpkin, how was your day?  I hadn’t heard from you, I’m sure you are staying busy.  Hopefully made it to the shelter today and found yourself a new companion.  

Y/N: Good morning Colonel!  I was in bed much earlier than you apparently.  I’ll call you after my run this morning, love you

I sit down sipping my coffee and grab a protein bar before heading back in my room to change to my favorite leggings and tank.  I used to hate running, but after moving to NYC, watching the sunrise as I jog through Central Park makes my day so much better, I can’t imagine missing it even once. This morning I’m a bit earlier than usual and get a chance to take the longer route through the park.  The sunrise is as beautiful as ever and adds a calming effect that I crave in this crazy world.  I decide to treat myself this morning and swing by my favorite coffee shop while heading down Central Park West.  As I step into the shop my phone rings and I answer without looking at the caller id. “Colonel, I told you I would call you when I got home, what’s making you so impatient this morning?” 

I state with fake annoyance.  “uh, Agent Miller?” I hear in response, ok, that’s definitely not my dad.  “Yea, who is this?  And how did you get this number?” I respond as I finally look at the caller id and see it’s a blocked number.  With a soft chuckle they respond “this is Steve Rogers; Director Fury gave me your number.  I didn’t intend on calling you this early, but we received some new communications late last night and hoping you are available to translate for us again.”  Wow, he even sounds handsome, how is that possible.  “Oh, hi, yes of course I can help.  I’m on the upper west side right now, I can be at the tower in 15 minutes, but I just finished a run and I’m kind of disgusting.”  Why did you just say that, you idiot? “That would be great, the quicker we can get this resolved, the better.  Should we send a car for you?” he asks.  “No, I’m good.  I’m picking up coffee, do you need any?” Seriously? What is wrong with me? It’s like I hear his voice and turn into an imbecile.  “No, but thank you for the offer, see you soon.” he replies before disconnecting the call. I grab my coffee and start heading toward mid-town when I look down and realize what I’m wearing, not only is the word Juicy across my ass, but my tank reads ‘I’m not a rapper, I just cuss a lot’. I laugh at how ridiculous I feel for being worried about what I’m wearing, I should be worried about the sweat that’s beginning to dry on my skin, bleh.

I arrive at the tower just as a security guard is unlocking the door for me. “Good morning” I chirp trying to sound as professional as possible while looking like a huge mess. “They are expecting you in the conference room on the 25th floor, use the first elevator on the left” he responds barely looking up, apparently, he’s not a morning person.  “Thanks” I smile as I head toward the elevators.  “Nice outfit” he smirks as I walk into the elevator.  Well, this should be interesting. Walking down the hall I get an eerie flashback from yesterday’s recordings and try to calm myself to focus on the task and not get too overwhelmed.   That worked for almost a full 5 minutes before you walk into the conference room to find Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson dressed in sweats and t-shirts.  A girl could die happy here! Deep breath and don’t make an ass of yourself! “Good morning gentlemen, I’m glad you got the dress code memo” I say as I enter the room.  “Glad you could make it on such short notice, Agent Miller, this is Sam Wilson. Sam, this is Agent Miller, she is helping us with our translating” Steve smiles as he introduces me.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Wilson, please call me Y/N.” “Well, you can call me Sam, and I’m glad none of us overdressed this morning.” he responds as you move closer to the conference room table.  “Normally, I would have put a bit more effort into my appearance, but I was finishing my run through the park when you called.” I smile and try to calm my nerves.  “It’s 645 in the morning and you were finishing your run?” he asks with a bit of shock.  I nod my head and grab a pen and paper off the table. “Geez, your worst than Cap! Wait, what park are you running through in the middle of the night?” he asks with a raised eyebrow and has now caught the attention of Steve, who seems more interested in the conversation now.  “Um, Central Park and it’s not the middle of the night, I didn’t get there until almost 530” you say nonchalantly.  The are both now looking at you like you have 3 heads.  “What? Growing up, I was the lazy one still in bed at 6am.  And I like watching the sunrise, it’s a good way to start your day.  So, you have another conversation to translate?”  you add quickly trying to change the subject.  

“Yes, we received a few early this morning, or I guess last night is a better time frame. Anyway, there are a few bits and pieces here and there.   Hopefully they have more info for us, but anything we can get will help us at this point.” Steve responds.  “Actually, how are your typing skills?  There are about 15 different recordings so I was hoping you might be able to type them up as you translate.” he adds looking at you hopeful.  “I think I’m around 90 wpm, so that shouldn’t be an issue” “Great, I’ll grab the laptop and you can get started” he claps Sam on the back as he heads out the door.  Sam looks you over as if he’s trying to solve a riddle.  “You ok?” I ask.  “I’m assuming you came from a military family if 6am made you the lazy one, am I right?” he asks with a knowing smile.  “Yes, my dad is a marine, and both of my brothers joined after college, one in the Navy and one in the Air Force” you smile realizing that Sam probably knows your dad and your brothers even if he hasn’t figured it out yet.  Steve comes back in the room, walking up behind you with the laptop and you realize that he’s now probably read your ass and you are trying your best to not crawl under the table in embarrassment.  “Ok, here is everything you should need.   The files are in the desktop folder with today’s date.  Thanks again for putting your life on hold to help us out.”  Steve says as he sets the laptop down in front of you.  You relax just from his kind words and smile at him, “it’s my pleasure, Steve”.

You begin working and do your best to not stare and drool over the gorgeous men in the room.  Just as you are about to begin your next recording, the buildings AI FRIDAY alerts Steve of a call coming in for you.  You look up confused and shrug your shoulders, no one knows you are here.  Then you hear Director Fury’s voice loud and clear. “Sorry to interrupt the party going on over there, but Agent Miller?  Would you like to explain why Colonel Miller is calling me at this hour on a Sunday morning?” he states sounding as irritated as ever.  “That’s probably because he loves you and misses you.” You respond flatly. “Ok, that’s probably only part of the reason, I was supposed to call him when I was done with my run and I got sidetracked.  Be a dear and cover for me?” you respond hoping that Nick is in a good mood and willing to help you out.  Sam is looking at Steve utterly confused, to which Steve just shrugs and shakes his head, laughing at how you seem completely comfortable around Fury and not at all intimidated like everyone else in SHIELD.  “How about you tell him yourself?” he responds before you hear a beep and your dad starting to talk. “Pumpkin, are you there?”  You hang your head embarrassed even more than you thought was possible for one day and you’ve only been awake for a little over 2 hours at this point. “Hi dad, I’m so sorry I didn’t call you, but I’m at work right now and I will call you as soon as I’m done, I promise.” You begin bargaining knowing full well it will get you no where but hoping he will take mercy on you.  “What are you having for breakfast?” he responds.  Your shoulders slump knowing this is only going to get worst.  Steve looks at you a little confused as to the question. Ok, I might as well get this over, if I don’t play along with his silly games then this is only going to become more humiliating. “I’m having pineapples covered in guacamole” you respond hoping Sam and Steve aren’t paying attention.  You then look up and know they heard but the confused and disgusted expressions on their faces.  “Alright, that’s good.  Now explain yourself.” he responds, and you take a deep breath.  “Dad, I was finishing my run and got called into work. I’m here now but have a bit more work to do, I promise I will call you the minute I’m done and headed home.”  “Fine, I wasn’t expecting to see you at the Stark tower at this time of the morning and assumed your body was discarded in the dumpster, that would be the only reason .you hadn’t called and didn’t answer my calls.” “Old man, you are so dramatic” you say with a smirk “and I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”  “Good, bye Pumpkin.”  

The call disconnects and you look at Sam and Steve hoping that you can get back to translating but knowing by the looks on their faces they have a lot of questions. “What the hell was that?” Sam asks trying to understand the conversation you just had with your dad.  “That was my dad, he’s a bit overprotective and paranoid” you respond hoping that would explain enough.  “Wait, your dad is Colonel Miller, as in Colonel Joseph Miller?” he asks. You nod and smile, you love your dad, but he had a reputation of being a big mean Marine, which he could be if he wanted to, but he never was with you, he was a giant teddy bear that worried about you more than necessary.  “And your breakfast choice?” Steve asked, still quite confused by what just happened. “Oh, that” I respond “when we were younger, my dad started this thing so that we could relay to him if we were in danger or kidnapped.   He asks about what we are eating and the most ridiculous or gross thing you answer means you are fine.  If I had answered pancakes, then he would know that I’m in danger, if I add eggs, then I’ve been injured.  If I add bacon it’s by someone I know, it’s crazy, and has only been used in innocent situations like today, but like I said he’s paranoid and overprotective” I shrug and smile at the guys.  It’s one of the things that made you love your dad, a thousand miles away and still making sure you are protected no matter what.  Steve looks at you with his brow furrowed “that’s kind of genius.”  I nod “yea, he’s good like that” I respond. “Wait, if he’s your dad, then Joshua and Jacob are your brothers?” Sam asks like he just figured everything out. I nod and smile “Yes, they are, and I apologize for anything they did that got you in trouble, that’s kind of their specialty.”  “Are you kidding?  Jacob was my saving grace in the Air Force, he is a bad ass and one of the best airmen I’ve ever known!” Sam explains with a huge smile on his face.  “Well, I’m glad, he would like to here that, he was medically discharged a few years ago after breaking his shoulder and it not healing as quickly as it should have.  He actually just started working with the Secret Service and finally feeling like himself again.” I tell him.  “Wow, that’s incredible.  I would love to catch up with him.  What about Josh?  Is he still sailing?” he asks.  “Yes, he’s on the west coast, San Diego or maybe Seattle.  I’m not sure, he moves around a lot.” I respond.  “Well, now that we are all caught up, Sam, can you check the data that just came in?  Hopefully, we can get through this info and still enjoy the rest of our day” Steve says thoughtfully as he looks between you and Sam.  “Of course” I respond and go back to the recordings. 

TAGS @farfromjustordinary​

NEXT CHAPTER

[hollenka99]

The One Where Jackie Meets The Others

Summary: Chapter 4. Jackie enjoys a couple trips out with Marvin.

Warnings: death and blood mentions

@bupine @badlypostedeverything

Things don't smoothly transition back to the way they were following that morning. However, they both agreed it was clear Anti's intentions were to divide them. Therefore, it would be dumb to give him that satisfaction. When Marvin asks, out of pure curiosity, about the mullet, Jackie doesn't really have an answer. He'd simply liked the style. But maybe it was time to move on. The chances of him returning to the '80s were particularly slim. With the green having faded weeks ago, he has it cut so it now only reaches his ears. The style is nice but he does miss his old look. He supposes Marvin was pleased with this development. He definitely got a lot of joy from teasing Jackie about how much curlier his shorter hair became following showers. The only quip he has in response is that the hero's hair wasn't much better when wet either. The next thing on the agenda was the excursion to Pizza Hut. The four of them agree to meet on Thursday. In preparation, Marvin offers Jackie a copy of the restaurant's document on allergy information. Marvin faces falls when he learns just how many items he loved posed a certain risk to Jackie's health. Nope, no pepperoni for him. No garlic breadsticks or cheesy fries either. Fried items were a contamination risk too, apparently. He lies when his friend asks about stuffed crust. Jackie trying the crust option was one of the main reasons they'd agreed to visit the establishment. Besides, it wasn't guaranteed it would trigger a reaction. He could possibly get away with sampling a little of Marvin's crust if he didn't push his luck. It is comforting to learn Henrik, the friend who made educational videos for others, had coeliac's disease and therefore had to be wary when eating as well. Jameson was Marvin's cousin of sorts. Their grandmothers had been sisters. Then their mothers were friends, leading to their sons to develop a good relationship while growing up. Jameson was a performer who used his control over time and sound for entertainment purposes. He and Marvin frustratingly run late due to the hero misplacing his wallet. They are apologetic to Henrik and Jameson who have already found a table and ordered drinks for themselves. Jameson has neat brown hair that extends down his face to his jawline and closely surrounds his mouth. Henrik, on the other hand, has black hair which has been swept back as well as glasses. The two of them promise they don't mind the delay. They haven't been here for ages anyway. In time, four pizzas are delivered to the table. There is the pan BBQ americano, gluten free Hawaiian, cheesy bites pepperoni and stuffed crust BBQ beef and onion. Marvin suggests he and Jackie trade a slice. His friend makes a supposedly humourous comment about how he identifies as Jackie's pizza base but it's lost on the former drummer. How someone can deeply relate to dough that's been baked in a pan, Jackie has no clue. He allows Marvin to take a slice regardless. However, when it comes to him returning the gesture, Jackie insists he only wants a little bit of his friend's crust. Half a slice's worth of stuffed crust is placed on top of his own pizza. Jackie regrets it as soon as it enters his mouth. God damn it, it was actually really tasty. He could see why Marvin was so enthusiastic about it. His expression remains neutral as he chews, well aware he has an audience. He hates how disappointed Marvin looks when Jackie gives a bullshit review about the cheese within being too chewy. Allergies and cross-contamination risks fucking sucked. Screw his body for being an asshole who overreacted to a commonly used spice. "Oh well, more for me." Marvin winks as he recovers from the blow before stealing a piece of chicken from Jackie plate. Alright, maybe letting one small inconvenience ruin tonight in his mind was stupid. Marvin had said he'd act as translator. Which was a lovely gesture. Jackie was grateful he was prepared to sacrifice part of his evening to play the middleman so he and Jameson could communicate. Except Marvin got sidetracked at one point and had delved into a whole conversation with his cousin, spoke entirely in BSL. It looked like a funny one too. Jackie was glad the pair were enjoying their evening. He stuck to conversing with Henrik instead. It's a struggle as they don't seem to have much in common. That is until Jackie absentmindedly asked what sort of food Henrik enjoyed. This in turn triggered the German man sitting opposite him to enthuse about fried potato slices with pieces of bacon and onion. Jackie himself launches into a story about how his mother used to work with a woman who had family in West Germany. Then this German colleague would sometimes write down a recipe or two to give to them. In no uncertain terms, those foreign dishes beat jacket potatoes or beans on toast any day. The four men give their stomachs a chance to settle a little while they chat as a group. Then it was time to finish off the night with ice cream shakes. Two strawberries, an oreo and a chocoholic are brought to the table. Although there had been several mentions of what Jameson did for a living, it is only at this point that a proper conversation about is initiated. "Jameson's doing a show on the 4th. I think we should go. What do you say?" Jackie's response is delayed due to Marvin making the suggestion just as he takes a long sip of his strawberry shake. "Oh uh, yeah, sure. What exactly will be in the show? Time stuff, right?" Jameson taps the side of his nose with a wry smile. The younger of the cousins translates this as "I believe he's saying that's for him to know and for you to find out." The performer signs something. "Expect the unexpected." Marvin rolls his eyes with a smile remaining on his face. "Oh yeah, like when you get a younger member of the audience to volunteer for your sound tricks. I once heard Hacker T Dog from CBBC sing Thinking Out Loud, you know. That was an experience." Jameson makes a comment. "I haven't seen the weirdest combinations? Well yeah, I sure hope I haven't. Kids' minds can come up with bizarre things. Henrik, especially, should know that." Henrik nods to this with a sense that this was a profound understatement. The banter carries on and Jackie soon feels like less of an outsider. The ice creams shakes eventually get drained as the evening draws to a close. Once all the goodbyes and "It was nice to meet you"s are over, the tow of them hop into Marvin's car to head home. Bohemian Rhapsody happens to begin playing on the radio as they set off. Jackie doesn't even have to ask before he's turning the volume up for both their benefits. They haphazardly fall into a duet. Jackie's heard Marvin singing absentmindedly to himself before this. He therefore already knows he has a good voice. But it isn't until tonight that he's able to hear it out loud. "I need you to do me a favour. Do you mind headbanging like in Wayne's World?" "What?" "Wayne's World. Never seen the film myself but there's a pretty well known scene where a bunch of them are in the car while this song is playing. Then during the instrumental that's coming up, they really rock out. I've always wanted to do it while in a car but I always seem to be the driver when I get the chance. So do you mind rocking out in a minute on my behalf?" Jackie chuckles. "Sure. My pleasure." As Freddie finishes claiming Beelzebub has a devil put aside for him, Jackie springs into action. He moves his head back and forth in rapid succession to the music. The pair follow along with the next verse as loudly as possible. At least, they attempt to. It isn't long before they have both descended into raucous laughter. "Thanks!" Marvin manages in between breaths when it calms. "We should do that again. With us stationary next time so you can do it too." "Deal." Marvin bursts into laughter once more and Jackie thinks he's growing particularly fond of it. --- Another crime scene, another person fighting to remain alive while bleeding from the neck. Cat is only able to stand by while the paramedics do their job. He'd like to beg them to not take this guy to hospital, to not risk history repeating itself. But it's not like he can ask anyone to skip properly treating the victim. He's sure everyone here knows this situation is a catch 22. However, they can't do anything other than perform their jobs. It takes great deal of convincing but Cat is allowed to stay outside the patient's room for the night. He's been standing guard for a good while when midnight passes. A doctor comes along on her rounds. She speaks to Cat and the other member of security he's been spending the night with. While she's talking, Anti's latest victim begins coding. Any and all resuscitation efforts prove futile. The guy is gone. So is the doctor. If she even existed in the first place. And Cat suspects Anti himself is long gone too. The day afterwards, he catches some reporting of the murder while flicking through channels. The victim has an identity now. There's a name, age and grieving loved ones. The television is bitterly switched off as Marvin searches for his notebook instead. Joining the countless other entries is 27/4/19 - Nick Shaw, 34, wife + 2 little kids The next time he sees Anti, he's not fucking around. Enough was enough. Marvin was putting a stop to this once and for all, by whatever method was necessary. --- The first Saturday of May is a cloudy one. That doesn't stop a crowd from flocking to the Jolly Gentleman's show. Chase is still getting out of the car when Niamh races out, the name Oscar having barely left her mouth before doing so. It is with great relief that Chase witnesses his daughter collide with a familiar man. The pair of single fathers briefly kiss as a part of a greeting while the five year old girl is returned. Her twin sister and older brother hover around as the greetings continue. Eventually, Fletcher drifts into his own group with both of Oscar's boys. The seven of them make their way inside. "So where is this friend of yours?" Oscar asks as they take their seats. "Do you see him?" "Not yet. He should be bringing his new roommate with him." His scanning of the tent is halted. "Speak of the devil." Chase spots Marvin entering the area, along with another man whom his best assumptions identified as Jackie. They seat themselves in the same row as the fathers. The children sit directly in front of the adults. Marvin introduces him to Jackie as Dr Chase Brody, emphasising the title. "I'm just spending the day out with my kids, there's no need to be throwing my doctorate around. Chase." He offers his hand for Jackie to shake. "And this is Fletcher, Ciera and Niamh." Oscar carries on the round of greetings by introducing himself, Milo and Max. They spend a full minute going through the mundane pleasantries before Marvin and Jackie finally stay seated. As the performance begins, Chase relaxes. They'd filled the wait time with small talk and chatter amongst themselves, however, he had intended for today to be a chance to spend time with his partner. He gives Marvin the benefit of the doubt. The thing is, Jackie came across as a decent enough guy. He also understandably seemed a little overwhelmed by the amount of people in the group. If the chit chat served as a distraction, then fine by him. Besides, he only looked like he was in his late teens anyway. They did share a history of drumming when they were younger though which was a nice surprise. That certainly allowed for a whole avenue of conversation. As soon as Jameson emerged to start his performance, the auditory atmosphere changed. There were speakers around the place and at certain points of the show it almost felt as if the sound was travelling around the space as a physical thing. He also seemingly teleported to a different spot than moments before. A woman was completely flabbergasted when she discovered a small thank you card in her handbag that certainly hadn't been there when she arrived with no easy explanation for how it got there. Throughout the performance, one of his colleagues acted as his commentator. Among his other tricks, the Jolly Gentleman sets a row of plants on fire with an elongated lighter. One of his colleagues dramatically shows up with a bucket of water to extinguish it. The performer stops him with a raised hand. He then holds the lighter, still producing a flame, up for the audience. It trails across the plants, erasing any evidence that there had been any combustion taking places. Not a single scorch mark or hint of smoke in sight. A little girl is summoned from the audience. She's about the twins' age, maybe slightly younger. After being asked what her favourite character was (Daddy Pig, of all things) she was encouraged to sing a song she really liked (I'm a Little Teapot). Already familiar with work stories his friend had, he knew what to expect. The crowd was treated to Daddy Pig's rendition of I'm a Little Teapot, complete with actions. Or at least, they were partially treated to it as the volunteer kept giggling into the microphone throughout her performance. It is evident that Jackie is too enthralled by the show to notice the barely subtle yet fond glances in his direction from the one sitting next to him. Ah, so it was like that, huh? Good for them. Chase catches Marvin's arm as they head out, taking advantage of Jackie going to speak with Jameson. It would be more discreet if Marvin's friend wasn't in earshot. With a wink, he teases his friend. "And they were roommates." "Hey, shut up. It's not like that." "Sure. And Oscar is nothing more than my buddy." "Chase-" "Seriously, what have you got to lose? If he's straight then it might get a little awkward for a moment. But I feel like he would be reasonable and appreciate the honesty. Well, you know him better than I do. You tell me." "You sure?" "Listen, I was already married to a woman when I started being cool with liking dudes. But since the split I've been around the block a few times. It is going to be fine." Marvin moves towards his car as Jackie re-emerges from backstage. It's clear he's still very much skeptical about it all. "If you say so, Chase." ---- Joel makes the judgement that Jackie would probably be fine to travel through his portals a week later. His apartment is pleasant. The ledge of one of his windows has a cushion to improve comfort. Jackie notices remnants of blu tack on the wall where something had clear been removed, which was odd. He almost makes a joke about it but decides against it. "Well... fáilte!" Joel spreads his arms to gesture to the whole room. "Wait, you know some Irish?" "Yep. Had an Irish grandmother who got me conversational." "Really? Nice. In that case, go raibh maith agat." Jackie chuckles. "So... anyway, you going to tell me how you know I'm from '86 or not?" "Okay, so you already know about my portals." "Are you trying to tell me you portalled me through time?" "What?! No, of course not. Bold of you to assume I have any control over the 4th dimension. I meant, I have powers and therefore I inherited the ability to have them." "So how then?" "One of my dads has a time based power and I guess, that trickled down to me a little. Stuff like that happens sometimes. I think Jameson might have an unusually strong immune system because his mother has enhanced immunity. Either way, I just have a sixth sense for time stuff." "...Right." Joel huffs in annoyance. "Alright, believe me or don't. The point is I want to help you go back to your own time if that's what you want." Ah. That's where that elephant was hiding. He was slowly getting used to the future but there was an inexplicable longing to return to where he came from. He was never meant to be 20 in 2019. There was no denying that fact. And as much as he enjoyed hanging out with Marvin and the rest of his new friends, it felt wrong somehow. That said, he was particularly good at going with the flow where necessary. If he was stuck in this century for good, then he'd deal with that. But if there was a chance he could be returned to 1986, there was no way he wouldn't take it. "How?" A sly smile appears on Joel's face. "Ah, for that, we will need Jameson and Henrik's help. All we have to do is wait for the right moment to ask for it. And seeing as it's now May, I don't think we'll have to wait that long."

[dazzlingdisaster]

The Almighty Nyanbinary got sidetracked lmao, there's events coming up and I started/restarted like five projects. Including-

• Finally finishing the fucking wisteria skirt that has box pleats, which has been painstakingly done by hand but I got really pissed off at the waistband and I had to walk away

• Embroidering a slightly more realistic version of a sagari fuji kamon just to see if I can do it and it's easily recognized as such

• Redyeing my hair because I severely dislike my natural hair color, which is a long and arduous ordeal involving the dye making my bathroom look like a homicide scene, but the end result is a rich medium DARK naturally-SUPER-red, so-dark-it's-nearly-auburn-but-there's-no-brown, kinda-slightly-coppery that I adore. The dye code is 7RR. Literally RR means Really Red or Red Red, and it's just that - red as fuck, no undertones (the copper is because of the light and because my natural hair is dark ash blonde (6A-6.1 if you're keeping score).

• Trying to start working on fics and NOT start new ones, but that's probably not gonna happen. As long as I can keep the initial writing under ~15k I'll be happy...

• Oh I also started doing a sleep and lounge set based loosely on a kimono and pants, and I'm almost done with the top and now idk what style pants to make. I'm leaning towards hakama aesthetics but with Dazproofing because I roll and toss and turn and I don't want to wake up and get out of bed and immediately trip.

So uh yeah that's a thing. A lot of things.

I figured out how to do a text cut too. So now I'm a LOT more okay with things like the Ex Saga and general bitching because I'm not automatically subjecting people to stuff. I may not be in the habit of trigger warning stuff (most of my conversations are with a small group or one on one, and I just ask, like, hey, this subject okay? And proceed or back up depending on the answer) but I at least understand the importance of not having a giant negative triggery Wall O Fuckin Text™️ if possible, you know?

Okay I am going to go back to slowly ensuring arthritis and carpal tunnel in my hands and work on either the skirt or kamon. I've got wisteria scented- fragrance? I don't know what the formula is exactly but I really want to roll up on the event with matching visual aesthetic and scent.

[theartofbeinganerd]

I love your blog and writing!!!! Thank you so much for sharing your awesome stories!!!! If you have time and like the prompt, would you be able to write a fic where Fitz and Deke are being protective of Jemma and worried about her after she gets hurt because she is being a bit reckless because Deke told her the future so now she thinks she’s invincible and won’t die until after she and Fitz raise their daughter.

Anon asked: Prompt: Jemma gets hurt on a mission after 5x15 and she has to get tests run on her and they find out she’s pregnant.

Anon asked: Hey! Thanks for taking the time to write and post all those amazing fics :) you are great. If you want (it's okay if you don't) would you please write a fic that addresses the issue that Jemma is the only one who can patch up the team, like what would happen if she gets hurt. Idk maybe someone letting Fitz out of confinement because he could use the knowledge of the framework to help her, or the team is force to come out of hiding to take her to a hospital or something angsty pleaaaase :)

Thank you so much, anons!! Now, I ended up combining all of these prompts since they were pretty similar, but if want something different, feel free to prompt me again!

((Also, as a side note, I’ve watched ten seasons of ER with my mom lately, and I was so tempted to name the surgeon at the end Dr. Corday, but I managed to retain some self-restraint, amazingly))

*Set post 5x15

(Ao3)

-

“Maybe I could just talk to Daisy –”

With a quiet sigh, Jemma paused in her stride down one of the halls of the Lighthouse, finally turning to face Deke, who had been trailing behind her since they’d left control. “Deke, you heard her; it’ll be more dangerous to bring anyone more than necessary.”

Deke planted his hands on his hips, pointing out a bit desperately, “Yeah, but – but I could just stay on the Zephyr, run back-end or something. Or, maybe if we just tell Daisy about us, she’ll let me come.”

Jemma gave a little shake of her head, smiling fondly and reaching out to squeeze Deke’s shoulder reassuringly. “You don’t know enough about the Zephyr to do that, remember? And, you know we agreed that now isn’t the right time; we’ve all got enough going on as it is. Besides, you’re needed here.”

“To do what? Just sit around waiting for you guys to come back?” he asked, frustrated by being sidelined, but more importantly, by not being able to stay by his grandmother’s side and make sure that she was alright at all times.

“Of course not; with the rest of us gone, you and Yo-Yo will be in charge.” Arching her eyebrows, she leveled a serious look at him. “We can trust you to be in charge, can’t we?”

Deke rolled his eyes with a bit more force than was strictly necessary, lowering his voice to remind her, “You may be my grandmother, but I’m not a kid you know.”

She chuckled softly, catching one of his hands to cradle it between both of hers. “Deke, I promise you, everything will be alright. We’re not even sure these coordinates are for real, and we may be back before you even know it; but, on the off chance that we really have found where Hale is hiding Coulson, I need to be there, just in case she’s done something to him.”

“Do you really think she would?” Deke asked, briefly sidetracked as he furrowed his brow worriedly. Sure, he hadn’t gotten off on the right foot with Coulson (or anyone on the team, really), but he wouldn’t want anything to happen to him – he was a pretty cool guy, as far as Deke was concerned.

Jemma chewed her bottom lip for a beat, then gave a little shrug. “I’m not sure. She does have someone working for her that’s extremely careless and reckless, which is worrying, but Piper’s still confident that Hale doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”

Deke supposed that that should’ve made him feel a bit better, but it really didn’t. Taking a half-step closer to her, he told her seriously (though a bit awkwardly – this was still new for both of them), “Just…be careful, okay?”

Her expression softened, and she gently squeezed his hand between hers, assuring him once more, “I’ll be fine, Deke. You know I will be.” With a soft laugh, she added teasingly, “I know that in protecting me, you’re protecting your own future, but I’m pretty good at taking care of myself, so don’t worry.” With that, she gently released his hand, turning to continue on her way to the hangar. However, she paused, possibly catching sight the frown now tugging his lips down at the corners. With another reassuring smile, she insisted firmly, “I’ll be alright, Deke.”

As Jemma then turned to leave, Deke watched her for a moment, a strange sense of foreboding filling him as he mumbled to himself, “That’s not it at all.”

-

It’d only been an hour since the Zephyr had departed from the base, but Deke couldn’t help but be nervous as he waited in control for some indication of how things were going. Of course, he knew that the team had gone radio silent in order to be even less likely to be tracked by Hale, so he wouldn’t even hear from them until they were on their way back, but still, he found himself waiting anxiously for contact.

He was fine for awhile, but eventually he couldn’t sit still any longer, so he began pacing the length of the room, but it only took a short amount of time before he just couldn’t take the silence and the waiting any longer.

Instead, Deke began wandering the base, trying to find something to take his mind off of worrying, most likely needlessly, about Jemma out in the field for a little bit.

However, he didn’t quite expect to find that subconsciously, his feet had led him right to the hall that led to where Fitz’s isolation room was.

Deke froze when the realization of where he was hit, glancing around in surprise and confusion, and a surge of trepidation filled him as he stared down the long hallway to where his grandfather was being held.

He knew that Jemma had shared the news with Fitz about who he was, but Deke hadn’t had a chance to talk to him in the handful of days since. Truthfully, he wasn’t really sure what to say to him, especially with everything that Fitz was going through at the moment; the last thing he wanted was to somehow make things worse.

For another few moments, Deke hesitated there, considering just turning around and focusing on Jemma for now, putting off going to visit Fitz for another day. But, then he blew out a breath, squared his shoulders, and began taking slow, measured steps forward until he was standing before the thick glass window.

Fitz’s back was to him, and he could see that he was idly flipping through the pages of a book, quickly enough that Deke knew he wasn’t really reading it.

He opened his mouth, but couldn’t quite bring himself to say anything at first, the words freezing on his tongue. Then, however, he took a breath and tried again, saying simply, “Hey.” He couldn’t help but cringe slightly, though, when the word came out hoarse.

Clearly startled, Fitz lowered the book, twisting around to look at Deke. He stared at him for a beat, then slowly set the book down the table beside him and got up from his chair, taking a half-step toward the window. “Hey.”

Awkwardly, Deke ran a hand over the back of his neck and let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “So, uh, should I call you grandpa, or…?”

Fitz’s eyebrows rose, and he let out a short huff of a laugh, shaking his head. “Absolutely not.” He paused, then slid his hands into his pockets, shifting a bit on his feet before he asked, “What…uh, what d’you call Jemma?”

Caught a bit off-guard by the question, Deke stumbled out the answer, “Oh, um, well, we haven’t really…talked about it. Not yet, at least. Haven’t had the time.”

Fitz nodded in understanding, then a long stretch of silence settled between them, neither seeming to really know quite what to say.

Deke had just decided to say something, to blurt out the first thing that he could think of, just to break the ice a little, when Fitz beat him to it, saying almost roughly, “Jemma told me about…about your mum, about what she told you.”

Nodding rapidly in reply, Deke hastily assured him, “Yeah! Yeah, definitely, she talked about you guys all the time. She thought you were like, the best parents ever.”

He’d hoped the confirmation would at least put a smile on Fitz’s face, but it seemed to do the exact opposite; Fitz made a bit of a face and dropped his gaze to the floor between them as he soaked in the words silently. Finally, though, he admitted lowly, “I don’t see how that’s possible. I don’t see how my daughter could ever look at me and see…see someone worthy of such love and admiration.”

Deke felt his eyes growing wide in his face, and he took an automatic step closer to the glass, shaking his head quickly as he insisted, “No, no, she really did. She loved you, so much. You were the greatest man that she ever knew.”

Fitz’s jaw clenched visibly, and he gave a jerky shake of his head, whirling around abruptly and slapping both hands down onto the table behind him, bending over and taking a deep, shaky breath.

Deke felt utterly helpless; he didn’t know what to do to help – he didn’t even really know Fitz. Usually, Jemma was there to place a soothing hand on his shoulder, to calm him simply with her touch, to whisper words of comfort in his ear until he relaxed a little.

Now (for the moment, at least), he was on his own. So, Deke tried his best to reassure Fitz, absently placing both hands on the glass as he told him, “Everything’s gonna be okay, don’t you see? This is just…it’s temporary, it’ll get better –”

“It can’t possibly get better,” Fitz cut him off to grit out tightly, “not after the things I’ve done. We’re more than a team, Deke. We’re more than friends – we’re a family, and I betrayed their trust, don’t you understand? I’ll never be the man that your mum described; I don’t deserve to be seen as that man.”

Unable to let this continue, Deke didn’t think, he just typed in the pass code that Jemma had entrusted him with, opening the door and stepping into the room. He went right up to Fitz, hesitating for only a second before placing a hand on his shoulder. Lowly, confidently, he told him, “You do deserve it. I mean, I haven’t known you that long, but I’ve seen the man that my mom spoke so fondly of in you, and I know that’s who you really are. You’ll come out the other side of this and…and be the father that your daughter needs.”

Fitz blew out a long, slow breath, then turned his head to peer at Deke, giving a little shake of his head. With a tiny, disbelieving smile, he reminded him, “How could you possibly think that? I’ve been nothing but short-tempered with you since we met.”

Deke shrugged at that, chuckling as he pointed out, “Ah, well, someone’s gotta keep me in line, I guess. My mom always said that if she didn’t keep an eye on me, I’d be likely to just run wild.”

Letting out a quiet laugh, Fitz straightened back up and absently ran a hand through his hair. “Well, I’ll…I’ll try to be a bit more patient. Jemma’s always telling me to slow down and take a breath before I get overwhelmed and upset, but…our deadlines are a little more pressing these days than they were back in school.” He paused, then asked Deke once more, a tad unsurely, “She really was happy? That I was her dad? I mean, she’d be the luckiest kid alive to have Jemma as a mum, but…”

“She couldn’t have asked for anyone better – when it came to both of her parents,” Deke promised seriously, making sure that Fitz met his eyes so that he could see that he meant it.

Fitz released a shaking breath, then nodded once, and Deke was pretty sure that he still didn’t quite believe it, but he wasn’t deterred; he was going to make sure that he did.

Changing the subject abruptly, Fitz asked with a fond chuckle, “Was Jemma the one to send you down here? She seemed pretty keen on us getting to know each other better the last time we spoke.”

The innocuous question suddenly reminded Deke about the mission that the team had left on hours ago now, focusing on one grandparent apparently pushing the other to the back of his mind temporarily. Concern filling him, he grasped Fitz’s wrist and turned it to glance at the time on his watch, his eyes going wide as he swore under his breath. “She went out with the others to – they were trying to find Coulson, but they…they should’ve been back by now, or at least made some kind of contact.”

Fitz’s expression went startlingly blank, and he immediately began peppering Deke with questions about when they left, where they were going, who went with her. But, before he could answer a single one of them, the intercom crackled to life in the hall, and a voice could be heard echoing throughout the base, “All available agents please report to the hangar immediately.”

Deke felt his heart stop in his chest, just briefly, and he promised Fitz hurriedly, already stepping back toward the door, “I’ll be back to let you know what’s going on as soon as I can!”

“Wait, no!” Fitz called after him, but Deke wasn’t thinking of anything but getting to Jemma, his entire concentration narrowing to making sure that she was okay as he shut the door of the containment room behind him, rushing through the halls until he was skidding to a stop just inside the hangar.

The Zephyr was back in its usual place, and the ramp was already down, and at first he couldn’t see anyone and his heart was racing erratically in his chest. Then, Daisy and May were striding quickly down the ramp, followed almost immediately by Mack. They were all splattered with blood here and there, but Deke barely took note of it, because then he noticed that Mack was carrying a limp Jemma in his arms.

She looked so small, so pale, and there was blood soaking her shirt, and Deke was almost sure that he was going to be sick.

The first person to reach him was Daisy, and he hastily reached out to grasp her arm, demanding shakily, “What – what happened?”

She tried to shake his hand off, insisting tightly, “We don’t have time, Deke; we need to get Jemma to medical.”

But, Deke refused to let go, repeating more firmly, “Daisy, what the hell happened?”

Daisy blew out a short, tense breath, then finally told him curtly, “Simmons got shot, alright? Let me go now.”

Deke’s hand grew limp, enough that it fell from Daisy’s arm, and she moved to flank Mack with May as he carried Jemma to the gurney some other agents already had waiting for them. Jemma whimpered in obvious pain as she was set down, her face scrunching up with it, and it snapped Deke out of the stupor that he’d briefly slipped into.

He rushed to catch up with them as they began moving in the direction of the medical wing, and he noticed pretty quickly that Daisy and one of the other SHIELD agents that he didn’t know the name of were arguing under their breath, though he couldn’t make any of it out.

That was, until Daisy asked sharply, “What do you mean no one?”

Unable to quite keep the desperation out of his voice, and beyond caring now if they all knew who he was and how he was connected to Jemma, Deke demanded, “What’s wrong?”

Daisy shot him a look, but didn’t say anything, so May told him tersely, “We don’t have another doctor here; it’s just Simmons.”

“May and I did the best we could on the way back here with what little we’ve picked up over the years,” Mack added, “but it’s not enough.”

Deke was grasping at straws then, eyes constantly flicking to Jemma, and up close, he could now see the once sterile white dressing on her chest, blood now soaking through it, more and more by the second. He pointed out almost frantically, “Fitz is a doctor too, right?”

“No,” Daisy said instantly, her eyes narrowing.

May shook her head at him, replying lowly, “It’s not the same thing.”

“Can’t you at least let him try?” Deke asked, unable to believe that no one was going to do anything.

Before anyone could say anything, though, they finally reached the medical wing, where Elena had apparently been waiting for them, as she joined them then, her eyes going wide as she took in the sight of Jemma. “What happened?”

Jemma was brought into the closest room, and May went through the process of getting her attached to the various monitors waiting there straight away.

Mack sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest, where there was a large bloodstain across his shirt – Jemma’s blood – and he finally answered Elena, “Simmons got hit when we came under fire.”

“Why isn’t anyone doing anything?” Deke questioned loudly. “We have to help her!” When no one said anything, a tense silence settling in the room, he shook his head and said decisively, “I’m going to get Fitz.”

“No!” Daisy immediately argued, taking an automatic step in his direction, as though to stop him herself.

Holding up his hands in exasperation, Deke told her, “Look, I’ll take responsibility, but we need him, alright? Do you want her to die because of something that she had no control over?”

Daisy clearly hesitated, glancing between Jemma and Deke, but then she said tightly, “I’m coming with you.”

Not waiting to even make sure that she was behind him, Deke took off at a run, making a direct beeline for Fitz’s room. He came to an abrupt halt outside of it, briefly catching sight of Fitz pacing tensely through the window before he typed in the code with trembling fingers, throwing open the door and telling Fitz urgently, “Come with us.”

Fitz just briefly glanced over his shoulder, no doubt at Daisy, before he wordlessly followed the direction, hurrying out of the room and following Deke as he began rushing back toward the medical wing.

As they were running, Fitz asked him breathlessly, “What’s going on?”

However, Deke just shook his head, unable to say the words, to be the one to tell him. “Just…you’ll see.”

They burst back into the room, and Fitz sucked in a sharp breath, instantly going to Jemma’s side, as though pulled there by some magnetic force. He grasped her hand in his, studying her with narrowed eyes before asking in a low, deceptively calm voice, “How long as she been unconscious?”

“About twenty minutes,” Mack answered behind him, “she was awake for about ten minutes after, but not really alert, and then she was just out.”

Fitz soaked that in for a long moment, then demanded to know, “Why isn’t anyone doing a damn thing?”

“Simmons is our doctor, Fitz. You know that,” May reminded him, one hand keeping pressure on Jemma’s wound, but the other curled tightly at her side, her lips pressed into a firm line with what appeared to Deke to be helplessness, though he never knew when it came to May.

Fitz swallowed visibly, his jaw tensing, and Deke asked him urgently, “Can’t you…?”

But, Fitz shook his head in reply, muttering, “I’ve only assisted Jemma on medical procedures, and never anything like this.” There was a beat, then he looked up to meet May’s eyes across the bed and said, leaving no room for arguments, “She needs a hospital.”

“Whoa, Turbo,” Mack put in, arching his eyebrows in surprise, “that’s too dangerous.”

“If we don’t get her some help, she’ll die, Mack,” Fitz reminded him sharply. His voice was thick with tears and emotion, and his hands were shaking where they were cradling Jemma’s, his fingers distractedly playing with her wedding ring. “I won’t put anyone else in the line of fire, but…but I’m taking Jemma, consequences be damned – I’ll take them, whatever they are, as long as she’s okay.”

Not missing a beat, Deke said quickly and firmly, “I’ll come with you.”

Fitz glanced up at him sharply, giving a quick shake of his head. “No. No, you need to stay here. The more of us that leave the base, the more likely it is that we’ll be discovered.”

“I’m not letting you go alone,” Deke insisted, holding up a hand when Fitz opened his mouth, “and we don’t have time to argue.”

May looked conflicted and more than a little upset by the turn that things had taken, but it was Daisy that finally whispered, “Alright.” Without quite meeting Fitz’s eyes, she handed him a packet of fresh gauze for Jemma’s wound, telling him, “We’ll get you as close as we can and keep an eye on the local police. If they…if they find out anything, we’ll try to let you know as soon as possible, maybe get you guys out before…”

Fitz nodded in understanding, opening the gauze after a few false starts, his hands trembling almost too much to get the job done, before he pressed it over the old, ruined gauze covering Jemma’s wound.

There was a flurry of activity, and then they were on a quinjet, and even though he didn’t look up from Jemma, Fitz said once more, keeping his voice low, “You shouldn’t leave the Lighthouse, Deke, Jemma wouldn’t – she wouldn’t want you to put yourself at risk for her.”

“Yeah, well, someone’s gotta be there to intervene when she finds out that you did,” Deke pointed out, trying to force at least an ounce levity into his tone and trying not to stare for too long at the sweat on Jemma’s forehead and the pained twist of her lips, at the blood leaking out between Fitz’s fingers.

And even though Deke was pretty sure that May overheard their exchange, given the strange, knowing way that she was peering at him when the quinjet landed as close to the local hospital as possible, he couldn’t focus on that just now.

Things went quickly from the time that they arrived at the hospital; Jemma was led away on a gurney and Fitz filled out some paperwork with fits and starts, blinking rapidly, and Deke figured that he was trying to fill in what he could with how little they could offer.

But, then abruptly, everything seemed to slow to a crawl, and they were left pacing in a plain white hallway and the lights were too bright and the whole place just smelled too clean, and Deke hadn’t been this scared since his mother didn’t come home one night to tuck him in for bed.

Finally, after what seemed like ages, a woman in medical scrubs stepped out of the room that they’d taken Jemma into, pulling a cap off of her head and running a hand through her hair. She spotted Fitz and Deke on the other side of the hall, and stepped toward them, asking, “Mr. McCrae?”

Deke felt a wave of confusion at that, but Fitz just nodded and stepped forward, questioning worriedly, “How is she?”

“I’m Dr. Hopkins; I’m the surgeon that worked on your wife,” the woman explained. “She was extremely lucky – the bullet just managed to miss her lung.”

Fitz breathed out a sharp breath, bending over just a bit as though he physically couldn’t take the relief. Deke himself let out a little breath, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, almost dizzy with his own relief.

“She did lose quite a bit of blood before you got her here,” Dr. Hopkins informed them, “but we gave her a transfusion.” When Deke opened his eyes, he saw the surgeon reaching out to give Fitz’s shoulder a brief squeeze, smiling warmly as she told him, “Your wife and baby are just fine, Mr. McCrae.”

“Oh thank god,” Fitz murmured, and Deke had a small smile curving his lips – but then Fitz straightened up abruptly, almost choking out, “Baby?”

“What?” Deke asked, his eyebrows flying up his forehead.

Dr. Hopkins was very obviously caught off-guard by their reactions, asking Fitz in surprise, “You didn’t know?”

“Um, no,” Fitz replied firmly, still very much in shock as he absently dragged a trembling hand through his hair.

“A pregnancy test is required for any woman of child-bearing age before we perform x-rays or surgery of any kind,” Dr. Hopkins explained, “it’s hospital policy.”

Fitz released a heavy breath, leaning up against the nearest wall. Deke’s gaze strayed then to the window that showed into Jemma’s room, his eyes wide as he took in his grandmother, still unconscious and now wearing a medical gown, hooked up to a heart monitor that displayed a comfortingly steady rhythm.

Knowing that right at that moment, his mother was growing inside of her…it struck him breathless, and he had to reach out to steady himself against the wall as well.

-

Sometime later, Deke and Fitz were sitting in Jemma’s hospital room, perched in uncomfortable plastic chairs on either side of her bed as they waited for the to wake up, the pain meds that had kept her under while they were working on her still lingering in her system.

They were both still more than a little stunned, and Deke noticed that Fitz’s gaze was drifting down to Jemma’s stomach every few minutes, awe and disbelief obvious in his expression, though there was also a bit of fear and apprehension written there as well.

The air in the room was tense, and trying to take his mind off of how he could’ve easily lost his grandmother and his mother and any chance for a future that day, Deke asked him, “Why, uh, why ‘McCrae’?”

Fitz blinked once, glancing up at Deke as though he’d forgotten that he was there. He dragged a hand over his face, letting out a small sigh before he finally explained quietly, “It’s my mum’s maiden name – it was the first thing I could think of.”

Deke nodded absently, taking that in, then he nodded to Jemma. “What’d you tell them her name was?”

Letting out a little chuckle, Fitz jerked his chin toward Jemma, saying, “Anne,” then lifted one hand to gesture to himself, “James.” When Deke tilted his head curiously, he clarified, “They’re our middle names.”

Sitting up suddenly, Deke asked in surprise, “Really?” Fitz frowned at his reaction, nodding, and Deke arched his eyebrows, blinking a couple of times and letting out a surprised laugh. “My middle name’s James too!”

Just as Fitz was gaping at him, a quiet and hoarse voice spoke up between them, “Your mum’s got good taste.” Instantly, both Deke and Fitz focused back on a now-awake Jemma, each one picking up one of her hands, and she laughed quietly. “You’re both looking at me as though I’m a ghost or something, you know.”

Fitz shot her a disbelieving look, pointing out, “Jem, you really…you scared us. Don’t ever do that again, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best,” she replied in a murmur, and Deke caught sight of her thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of one of his hands. It paused, though, when she happened to glance around, frowning. “Are we…are we in a hospital?”

“Yeah,” Deke answered, wincing slightly. “And I wish somehow had warned me about all the sick people and that clean smell.”

Jemma offered him a weak smile, then turned to Fitz and whispered, “That bad?” When he released a shaking breath, nodding, she blinked, glancing down her body. “I…I felt the shot, and I knew that it hadn’t hit my heart or my aorta. I wasn’t sure about my lungs, but…well, then things got a bit fuzzy before I could properly place it.”

Silence settled between the three of them for a beat, but Deke broke it to point out, “You promised me that you’d be fine, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, a little smile ticking her lips up at the corners. “I’m sorry, Deke. But, I can’t imagine that I ever could’ve predicted that this would happen.” With another blink of sudden realization, she quickly turned to look at Fitz in startled shock. “Wait, what are you – you shouldn’t be –”

Fitz shook his head, assuring her, “Daisy let me out. Well, at least, Deke talked her into it –”

“No,” Jemma cut him off, “not that; what are you doing out here? They have our pictures, our names – they could find us and…and put you back in prison, Fitz.”

Fitz pointedly ignored the ‘I told you so’ look that Deke shot at him, scoffing and lifting her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “You’re not the self-proclaimed genius I’ve always known you to be if you really think that I’d be anywhere but by your side, Jem.” Nodding his head in Deke’s direction, he added, “Tried to get him to stay, though, but he apparently felt the same way – and apparently felt that he didn’t have to listen to his elders.”

When Jemma then glanced at Deke, he simply offered her a weak smile and a shrug.

“As soon as you’re well enough to leave, we’re gonna get you back to the Lighthouse,” Fitz went on. “Daisy’s keeping an eye on the local police for us, and is gonna give us a head’s up if they catch wind of us being here.”

She breathed out a quiet breath, nodding in understanding, and Deke promised her seriously, “We’ll be with you the whole time, though, no matter what.”

Smiling warmly up at him, Jemma murmured, “Thank you, Deke.”

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation then, and the doctor that had taken over for Dr. Hopkins came in. She smiled at the sight of Jemma, awake and alert, greeting her, “Ah, good evening, Mrs. McCrae, I’m Dr. Walsh. How are you feeling?”

Deke noticed Jemma shooting a subtle look at Fitz, no doubt for the name, but answered the doctor without missing a beat, “I’ve been better, quite honestly.”

Dr. Walsh chuckled as she flipped through Jemma’s chart, saying absently, “I don’t know if your husband’s had a chance to tell you yet, but you and your baby are going to be just fine.”

At first, Jemma simply replied, “Oh good,” but Deke knew the exact moment that she realized what the doctor had said; she sat up straight in her bed, hissing under her breath as it likely pulled at her fresh wound, and swatted away Fitz’s hovering hands. He caught sight of Fitz wincing, just before Jemma asked sharply, “My what?”

Perhaps they should’ve brought that up first.

[thischarmingand]

Reading Resolution: Awfully Devoted Women

A Nonfiction book: Awfully Devoted Women, Cameron Duder

So I got sidetracked reading a bunch of things that don’t fit this challenge, but I am back! Hey Andrea, weren’t you reading a different queer history for this slot? Yes, but it too sad.

While I was in California (uh, side note: back in Canada for a while again, mostly because capitalism) I was reading And the Band Played On, the famed and somewhat now problematic documentation of the early years of the AIDs crisis. Ethical concerns and all, it’s valuable reading, but it is extremely dense and depressing and too heavy to come back across the border when I still hadn’t finished it. So -- lower-middle and middle class Canadian lesbians of the early 20th century it is!

If this looks familiar, it may be because I lent it to my own devoted American pal, who reviewed it for her version of this challenge earlier this year. As Straydog pointed out in her review, it’s very much an academic history, not a pop one, and thus suffers from a lot of repetition intent on making Duder’s points -- mainly don’t assume women didn’t have sex in the context of romantic friendships, or that the rise of sexology (that essentially produces modern lesbian and gay identity groups) means that those women were suddenly sexual experts. To quote Jurassic Park and paraphrase some of Duder’s interview subjects, nature finds a way.

But, having said that, there’s a lot of cool stuff buried in here that I want to know more about. The letters of one couple from the earliest part of century, Bud Williams and Frieda Fraser, are so interesting in the glimpses we get, from their in-jokes and navigation of disapproving parents to Frieda’s gender fluidity when writing about herself. (Bud is the more feminine of the pair, which is perfect). And there are all these tidbits about the birth control debate in Canada, about morality inspectors worried about single women run amok in Toronto, about class divisions and coded language and the construction of lesbian identity as we now know it. This book felt largely like a jumping off point in that there are a ton of primary sources and old Master’s Theses I want to read now. The desire to write a lesbian audio drama set in early Canada did not get tamed. 

Also goddamn I just wish we would tell more women’s stories from these periods. They’re so interesting. Fuck Murdoch Mysteries and yet another Anne of Green Gables adaptation, tell me about the lesbian ball teams in Canada’s Air Force in the 1950s, you cowards. 

Would I recommend it? It’s not tremendously easy to source and it’s pretty expensive, but if you’re into academic queer studies with a Canadian bent I think it’s worth the time.