#i kinda just wanted to have this idea on standby in case i do wanna come back to it :3

[krusified]

okay but imagine vampire!cate…..like HEAR ME OUT!!

like imagine her becoming all clingy because she wants to feed off of you….

her burying her face in your neck while pathetically whining, waiting for you to grant her permission ):

you eventually give in (she threatened you)

she is obsessed with the idea of turning you into one of her. she would always try to persuade you, however, she isn’t all that convincing 😭

“we would totally make a hot vampire couple though?”

i think her favorite body part of yours would be your thighs. like anytime you guys are alone she would always lay her head on your lap and leave little bit marks

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Terms of Employment - Saul Goodman/FTM Reader (NSFW!)

lord help me im back on my bullshit. this is a sequel to my first saul/ftm reader fic. you wake up the morning after and discuss the current situation with your boss/apparent sex partner: saul goodman

tags/warnings: office sex, rough sex, oral sex, light bondage, daddy kink, homophobic/transphobic slurs, squirting, humiliation/degradation, trans fetishization

anatomical terms: dick/cock and cunt/pussy/hole are used interchangeably

words: 4,061

ao3 link

Your head was spiraling the morning after. You awoke from a deep sleep in a bed that felt way more luxurious than your own. The gaudy decorations that littered the walls only exacerbated the pounding in your head. You sluggishly peeled the blankets off, your body aching with even the slightest movement. Wait, where were your clothes? And where the hell were you? How were you going to get-

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”

That answers that question. And literally every other question that had yet to finish buffering. Suddenly, the memories came flooding back. Your boss, the ubiquitous presence on every possible advertisement space in Albuquerque, Saul fucking Goodman, had given you the type of fucking that’d make a nun burst into flames. And he didn’t seem like a smug piece of shit about it, rather cautious, actually. He was standing by your side of the bed, dressed in a comfortable-looking tracksuit, handing you your clothes with a sheepish smile. 

“I, uh… I guess you’re starting to remember how we got here. Listen, I’m really sorry if it was too much. You seemed like you were into it, so I wanted to, uh… keep the hype going, ya get me? I hope I didn’t hurt you or-”

“Oh no, i-it’s fine,” you cut him off, accepting your clothes from him, “I… I really did enjoy it. I kinda like it rough.” You flashed that same hesitant smile he had given you as you put your shirt on. God, this was fucking awkward. You definitely wanted more, but you had no idea how you’d even continue working together after this. Were you just expected to never talk about it again? Probably not, since you both were talking about it now, but what were you supposed to do? There wasn’t a page in your employee handbook on what to do after you fuck your boss.

He let out a small chuckle at your response, and relaxed his posture a bit. At least you both could let your guard down a bit.  “Heh, kinda? Sweetheart, you take a beating better than some of my toughest clients. I mean, I know I’m not in the best shape but-...“ He lost his train of thought as you stood up to put your underwear on, his eyes unconsciously trailing downward before darting away not so subtly. “Ah, nevermind. So you enjoyed it, huh? Would you wanna… do it again sometime? Maybe we could make this a regular thing?”

You internally breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that his blunt nature took the pressure off you. “I’d like that.” This time, your smile was genuine and confident.

His sigh of relief was dramatic. “Oh thank god,” he exhaled, “I’d been stressing that all night. You’re a good kid. I’d hate to make things weird between us. Well… weirder, I guess. Not exactly a conventional boss/assistant relationship anyway, am I right?” 

You couldn’t help but agree with that. 

Saul continued. “But listen, let’s just keep this a secret between us, alright? I’d hate to make things difficult for you, and personally, I’m still trying to wrap my head around the whole ‘I just fucked a dude in his pussy’ thing, y’know?”

You snorted a little at his last remark. “Yeah, that’s fine. I get it. I didn’t think you were into men, anyway.”

“Well, you’re a special case. And besides,” he placed his hands on your hips and leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “It’ll be nice to have a cute little plaything like you on standby.”

You shuddered at his teasing words. You’d hate to stroke his ego even more, but fuck, he was good. You figured you’d better fire back to show him you can keep up. “Sounds perfect, Daddy” was what you ended up with, making sure to drag out that last word. 

“Oh ho, is that the direction we’re taking things? I can get behind that,” He replied, lust dripping from his words. Though he switched gears pretty quickly, likely not wanting to cede control to you. “In due time though, kid. Let me drive you home. We got a big caseload this week, so come in an hour early on Monday, got it? I’ll be there to let you in.”

You likewise shifted back into business mode before he walked you two out to the car. “Sure thing, Mr. Goodman.”

—

The weekend passed you by, and you were outside the office on Monday morning an hour earlier than usual per your boss’s request. You knocked on the glass door to the building, and heard a muffled shout from the inside.

“Just a sec!”

“Alright!” You shouted back before absentmindedly checking your phone. You heard him stumbling around inside the dark office. You’d wondered previously why he wouldn’t turn the lights on when he called you in early, but with the amount of walk-in clients he got day in and day out, you got the gist. 

Saul eventually hobbled over to the front door and unlocked it for you. He seemed strangely out of breath. “Good to see you here bright and early, kiddo. We got a lot to cover today,” He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked in, “Have a seat in my office, I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, sir.” You replied. Sex was the last thing on your mind at 6:30 in the morning, but you couldn’t deny that calling him “sir” had a spicier taste now. The slightest hint of subordination to him was enough to spark your interest these days. You pushed open the door to his office and noticed an immediate roadblock to the task he had given you. “Uh, Mr. Goodman?”

“Yes?”, he asked, following you in.

“Where are all the chairs?”

The only seating in his office was his chair, behind his desk. You had a smaller desk off to the side, but your chair was gone. The chairs in front of his desk were gone too. Even that gross couch of his was nowhere in sight. Was he robbed? No, that wouldn’t make sense. Who would break into the most infamous law firm in the city just to steal his auxiliary office chairs? And he was here before you, too. He had to have known, right?

“I said,” He strode past you and sat himself down in his chair, crossing his legs and gesturing to the hardwood desk, “Have a seat.”

That son of a bitch. He made you get up at 5AM just to fuck with you. He was here at god knows what hour just to set the stage for your debasement. You weren’t sure how to feel, anger and arousal both waging a war over your psyche. You begrudgingly followed suit, plopping yourself down on the desk in front of him. You made sure to keep your legs closed and your gaze averted. You wanted to make him work for it, at least for a little while.

“There we go, that wasn’t so complicated, was it? Now, let's get down to brass tacks,” Saul traced his hand up your dress pants, in between your legs, and up to your crotch. You usually wore a packer when you went out, which evidently he must have noticed, and he gave it a not-so-gentle squeeze before he spoke. “We both know what’s going on here, so who exactly are you trying to fool?”

You gasped when he touched you, trying to squirm out of his grasp. You sputtered trying to answer him. “I’m… I’m not-”

“Take it off.”

“Si… Sir, I-”

He squeezed you even tighter. “I think you forgot your place here, kid. Your superior gave you an order. Need me to spell it out for you? I’m gonna let you go, and you’re going to take your pants off for me. Understand?”

“Y-yes, sir…”

“Good boy. Now, get up.”

Saul kept his word and released you from his grip. It was as if the praise he gave you went straight to your head and kicked you into subspace. You slid off the desk and undid your belt with shaking fingers. You felt his eyes burning a hole into you as you dropped your pants and underwear, the silicone packer bouncing as it hit the floor. No doubt your face was bright red, and you still couldn’t look him in the eye. Once your bottom half was uncovered, you shimmied back onto the desk, your bare legs squishing against the cold wood. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you like this before, but this was the first time you’d been fully cognisant of your actions, and the first time he ordered you to strip. You were too shy to open your legs for him without command. 

“Look at me,” He said, and you slowly turned to meet his eyes. He was watching you hungrily, his elbows propped on the armrests and his hands folded in front of his mouth. There was no hint of compassion in his voice. He was all business. “Spread ‘em.”

You obliged. Your eyes felt heavy, as if tears were threatening to well up, and your brain was starting to slow. Your cheeks and your cunt both felt like they were on fire, and the cold air stung as you exposed yourself to him. All you could think of was how embarrassed you were. You had never felt so fucking humiliated, but you had no idea how much worse it was going to get. 

“That’s more like it. No need to cover up your best feature. What a shame that you’d try to hide such a pretty little hole behind a piece of cheap silicone. Why don’t you uh…” Saul made an upside-down V with his fingers, “...give me a better view?”

You gulped, not wanting to risk talking back to him. You mimicked his gesture against your lips, spreading them open to show him. Much to your dismay (or was it delight?), you were starting to get wet and your t-dick was already hard. 

“Aw, are you getting excited from this?” he mocked, “No seriously, are you? I mean, it’s kinda hard to tell with such a tiny dick like that, y’know? Tell me, do you like getting treated like this?”

You did. You really did. You wanted more, but you’d dare not overstep. “Y-yes…”

“Yes, what? Go on, say it.”

“Yes, Saul. I… I like it when you treat me like this…”

“Prove it.”

That shocked you. You don’t know why. In fact, you should’ve seen it coming, but it still mystified you when he said it. You figured you knew what he wanted from you, but you didn’t want to assume. “H…How do you mean?”

“Prove it,” Saul repeated his instruction as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Prove to me that you like being degraded like this. I want you to get yourself off right here on my desk. I wanna see you stroke your puny little dick for me like the needy little whore you are.” 

Jesus fucking Christ. You had to stifle a moan when he said that. He knew how to work you, and the bastard wasn’t even doing the work himself. You dragged your hand down to your aching cock and wrapped 2 fingers around it before you began to stroke it. You were embarrassed to make noises while he was watching, though biting your lip could only do so much.

Saul looked at you like you were about as interesting as a water cooler instruction manual. He was trying his hardest to seem disinterested, wanting to keep up the act. “C’mon slut, get into it. You said you like it, right? Let me hear you.”

You let a couple noises slip. Mainly just quiet gasps and squeaks. At one point you sighed, “Fuck… Saul…”

“You’re on the clock, sugar. Don’t call me by my first name. You should know better than that.”

“S-sorry sir…” You stuttered, speeding up your motions. “I’ll… ngh…. I’ll be good.”

“You’ll be a good boy for Daddy?”

Motherfucker. Saul was an expert at using your words against you. Part of you regretted giving him that ammunition the other day, but part of you was ecstatic to hear him say it. You replied with affirmation while continuing to chase your high, “Yes, Daddy…”

“Good boy. Y’know, you’re so cute like this. Seeing you pinch that tiny little dick of yours and try to jack it like it’s an actual cock.” You’re not sure what hurt more, his backhanded compliments or a literal backhand from him. Both left a pleasant sting in their wake. “You can’t even call it a dick, really. Just serves as decoration for that nice tight pussy you have. It’s fun watching you pretend otherwise, though. How about you shove a couple fingers inside and fuck yourself the way a cuntboy like you deserves?”

You purred at his request, eager to satisfy him at your own expense. “Ah… y-yes, Daddy…” While still stroking your dick, you slipped two small fingers inside yourself, trying desperately to hit that special spot, but failing. You wished his longer fingers would replace yours. He had hit that spot in no time. Even so, you got loud. You weren’t even trying to stifle it anymore. Shameless whining, heavy panting, the most pitiful noises escaped you as you climbed closer and closer to your peak.

“Ah… f-fuck… sir, I mean, Daddy… shit… I…”

“You’re getting close?”

“Ngh… Yes… Daddy… fuck… please… I need…”

“Stop.”

And it all came crashing down. The climax you had built yourself up to disappeared, but not without a trace. You were still painfully hard, and your pussy was drenched. Droplets fell off your hands and it felt like you were sitting in a puddle. You whimpered softly, hoping he’d take pity on you, but he knew your game.

“Shhh…” he said, “Not yet, baby boy. You said you wanna be good for me, right? Then you gotta listen to me. Now, I want you to get off that desk and get down on your knees in front of me. Let me show you what a real cock looks like.”

You crept down from the desk and settled on your knees below him. He unbuckled his belt and placed it on the desk, making sure to avoid the wet spot you had left behind. He unzipped his pants agonizingly slowly, his obvious erection making you salivate. He fished out his cock, and it was gorgeous. A pretty decent length, and he was thick and uncut, already glistening with precum. You didn’t really get a good look at it last time, but it made sense why you were sore the next day. You shifted your position slightly, trying to get a little more friction against you.

“Getting a little jealous, huh? That’s what I thought. You went crazy over it the other day.” Saul gave himself a languid stroke, just to tease you. 

It worked. You wanted him so bad, you couldn’t help yourself. “Please, Daddy… c-can I…?”

“Can you what?”

“Can… Can I suck it?”

Saul laughed, but you saw his cock throb in his hand. He wanted you bad. “Jesus, you’re an even bigger faggot than I thought! Sure, whatever, go ahead, kid. Knock yourself out.” You went to take it in your hand, but he grabbed your wrist to stop you. “Ah ah ah, what do we say?”

That smug son of a bitch. He was insufferable in the best kind of way. “Thank you, Daddy.”

“You’re welcome, whore. Now suck it.” 

He let go of your wrist and you eagerly took him in your grasp. You spit on the tip and spread it over his length, his foreskin peeling back as you did so. You wrapped your lips around his head and began to suck, running your tongue along the underside and probing his hole with your tongue. While you slobbered on the tip, you used your hand to take care of the rest. He tasted so fucking good. His precum was salty and sweet, and his musk was driving you crazy. You pulled your mouth off the tip with a satisfying pop, and lowered yourself down to his balls. Licking and sucking on them frantically, you could hear him hiss above you as you worked him over. You were completely and utterly cockdrunk, and you’d do anything to show your gratitude. In fact, you were probably more into it than he was. 

“Look at you,” he sighed contentedly, “You look right at home on your knees worshiping a cock like this. I bet you wish you had one just like it, huh, tranny?”

You moaned into his balls as he talked down to you, feeling his body twitch in response. That slur hit you just right. You took his cock into your mouth again and started bobbing up and down his shaft, striving to please him however you could.

“Heh, I’ll take that as a yes. How adorably pathetic. I knew this would be a good idea. I figured you’d start drooling when I took my cock out. I bet that’s all you think about, right, faggot? Just how good it’d feel to have a fat cock like mine filling you up in every hole you’ve got?”

Another desperate moan answered his question for him. You enthusiastically pumped him with one hand, and tried sneaking the other one down to take care of yourself, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

Big mistake.

“Ah!” Saul grabbed your hair and pulled you off him. “Don’t think I don’t see that. You’ll get yours when I say so, hole.” He leaned over you and grabbed his belt off the desk. “Though in the meantime, this should remind you who’s in charge here.” He let go of your hair and pulled the belt taut. “Hands behind your back.”

You complied, and he reached down to wrap the belt around your wrists. Pulling the belt through the fastener, he slipped two fingers in to make sure it wasn’t too tight. What a gentleman. When he was done, he sat back in his chair and looked down at you expectedly. “Well? Tell Daddy thank you for disciplining you.”

You parroted his words back to him. “Thank you for disciplining me, Daddy.” The sick thing was you truly meant it. 

He gently patted your head, tousling your hair a little bit. “Good job. That’s my boy. Now…” He gripped your hair once more, his other hand stabilizing his cock at the base, “...take a deep breath for me.”

You knew what was coming, and began to inhale. Though before you could finish, Saul decided you’d gotten enough air, and forced you down onto him. He fucked your mouth relentlessly, spit pooling around your lips and spilling down your chin. You were doing your best not to gag, and for the most part you were successful. Except for when he’d force you down to the base and pinch your nose. He groaned at the feeling of you struggling around him, though he’d always show mercy and let you catch your breath before making you run the gauntlet again.

“Goood boy. I love fucking this whore mouth of yours. Good thing I hired you. Got my own little cuntboy to use like a fleshlight whenever I want.” He took you down to his base again, and before he could pinch your nose, you flicked your tongue across his balls. That caught him by surprise and got him to moan like a bitch. “Shit! Ah… fuck that’s good, kid…” He got louder and louder as he approached the top, fucking your mouth insatiably, “Getting close… ngh… gonn-ah… gonna cum down your f-fucking throat… yeah… take it, faggot… take it… I know you want it… f-fuck…!” He came with an earth-shattering groan, using both hands to push you all the way down. His cum shot down your throat in what felt like buckets, and he didn’t pull you off until he was empty. When he did, your throat was burning and you were gasping for air. Nevertheless, you made sure to swallow it all. 

Your efforts did not go unappreciated. You looked up at your boss and saw him slumped back in his chair, panting heavily, face flushed, and looking up at the ceiling with a goofy smile on his face. He looked spent, but his cock was still semi-hard. Remembering where he was, he tilted his head down to see you, and he gently rubbed your cheek. 

“Such a good boy… so good to me…” he sighed, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit smug from his praise. “How about I return the favor?”

You thought he’d never ask. “Please, yes, Daddy. Did I do a good job?”

“Very good…” Saul replied, grabbing you by your shoulders and hoisting you up with him. He spun you around and slid his hands down to your hips. Once he had the leverage to do so, he bent you down over his desk. “...and good boys get rewards.” A firm hand pressed your face into the desk and kept you pinned down, while his other hand went to work himself back up. When he was ready to go, he got into position and teased your opening with his cock. “Come on, pumpkin. Daddy wants to hear you say it.”

Of course he does. You wondered if it was physically possible to have sex with him without needing to stroke his ego. But you loved it. Any modicum of shame you had left went out the window as you begged, “Please, Daddy. Please put it in. I want it so bad. Please, please, please fuck me.”

He chuckled at your pathetic whimpering, though not to degrade you further. He was genuinely enjoying the effect he had on you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek before he spoke, “I got you, baby. Daddy’s got you.” 

Slam

With one hard thrust, Saul bottomed out in you. You cried out in ecstasy, finally getting the fucking you’d worked so hard for. He didn’t think to start off slow; he knew what you wanted. He pounded into you relentlessly, hitting your base with every thrust. His hips pushed yours into the desk so roughly that you thought you’d bruise. Your head was empty and your mouth hung open drooling. All you could think about was his cock. You loved it. You needed to show your boss how grateful you were.

“Th… Thank… you…. Daddyyy….”

“Aww, you’re welcome, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” He really was. He loved how he could get you to thank him without being prompted. While keeping you pressed against the desk, he snuck his hand down to your aching cock, and jerked you in time with his motions. “Go ahead and cum for me, darling. It’s okay. Let Daddy feel you cum.”

It was all too much, how his cock filled you up so perfectly, how his rough hands took such gentle care of your dick and kept you helpless underneath him, how sweetly he’d talk you through your orgasm. You couldn’t hold on. He pulled your orgasm from you easily, your wetness squirting out against his bare thighs. From the way he groaned at your release, you could tell he wasn’t far behind. A couple rapid thrusts and he was gone, burying himself completely within you as his cum coated your walls. You both trembled at the feeling of him filling you up. Having him deep inside you, so warm and full, it just felt so right. He stayed in until he softened, taking his hand off your head and slowly withdrawing his cock. You whined as you felt his cum spill out of you, and he just stepped back to admire the sight. He knelt down and tucked his seed back into you, finishing the job by planting a soft kiss against your wrecked hole, a breathless moan escaping your lips.

Saul climbed back up to you and laid his body on top of yours. He kissed your cheek and played with your hair, enjoying the warmth and softness of your figure. You didn’t see him as much of a cuddler, but you weren’t complaining…

“Enjoy it while it lasts, kid. We got 5 minutes before our first client.”

…yet.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

ON THE EDGE ~ Pt. 3

Characters: Gavin Reed x fem!Reader; Connor; Hank Anderson;

Warnings: cursing

Words: 2.122

Gavin nodded while he checked the file in front of him, “Well, yeah… I never made the connection before-”

“That’s why I am here… for the things you won’t see.”, yn said teasingly. Gavin glared at her but she just stuck out her tongue which caused Gavin to smirk. Yn took another file and handed it to Gavin, “Here is another statement. Again this Joseph.”

Gavin frowned as he skimmed through the file, “Is that one of mine? I can’t remember-”

“No, it’s not yours. Actually, this is from Hank-”

Gavin’s head shot up from the file, “Hank? Have you talked with him about this?”, annoyance was hearable in his voice.

Yn looked at him with a challenging expression, waiting for him to say the wrong thing but he didn’t, so she answered, “Yes, I did. Because my partner was MIA, you remember?”, she asked rhetorically.

Gavin understood and decided to stay silent, swallowing down his pride, “Alright, yeah... so, you wanna trace this case?”

“I would like to do it, yeah. But first, we need more information or at least, we should collect everything we can find.”, yn said and wasn’t surprised to see Gavin making a face by mentioning ‘boring’ paperwork, “Listen, here’s the deal, you go home, take a shower and relax a bit. You kinda look horrible-”

“Thank you very much.”, Gavin muttered.

Yn smiled softly, “You know what I mean. Meanwhile, I will gather the information.”

“You sure?”, Gavin asked. It didn’t feel right to let her alone doing all the work but a shower was also something Gavin was yearning for after this kinda horrible day.

“Of course. You know, it feels good to be here and to have these files in my hands. I just want to enjoy this feeling a bit longer.”, she said softly, “And you hate doing paperwork anyway.”

Gavin knew how much she loved her job. She was as passionate about it as he was. They both wanted the same things: to hunt criminals and to bring justice to those who got hurt by all the bad people in this world. Now that she was back, he couldn’t remember how he had managed to stay sane without her. He stood up and donned his leather jacket, “Alright, but if you need help or anything, call me.”, he said. As he saw her doubtfully glance he added: “I promise, I will answer.”, he said softly and yn grinned. Reluctantly, Gavin left his desk but looked back at her one last time. In the end, he wished he hadn’t done it. The scene he saw was annoying but before his temper could blow his fuses once again, he left the DPD.

Just as Gavin was about to leave, Connor walked to yn. As yn noticed the android, she looked up from the files and shot him a warm smile, “Hey, Connor.”

“Hey. Could you talk with Reed about these files?”

“Yes, I could. I think we will have a new case here.”, yn answered with a smile.

Connor noticed the way her eyes sparkled when she was talking about the case and the work. He already noticed that she had a cheerful personality mostly in comparison to Reed and Hank. But the energy he saw now was something different. Connor had studied her career a bit. She was young, ambitious and one of Detroit’s best Detectives and now, he saw why she was this good: there was a fire burning in her. She wouldn’t give up until she would solve this case, “I’m glad the two of you could sort things out.”

“Yeah, Gavin is a bit hot-headed… some things will never change. You just have to know how to deal with him.”, yn said. On the other side of the room, she saw Hank getting done with work to leave the office, “You’re done for today?”

“Yes. The Detroit Gears have a game today and Hank wants to watch it in Jimmy’s bar. I accompany him to make sure he won’t get … too drunk.”

“Sounds like a good evening.”, yn admitted.

“Would you like to join us?”, Connor asked carefully and kinda shy. He wasn’t sure where this idea came from but the idea to spend more time with her was something he would like.

Yn’s brows shot up in surprise. This invitation was nothing she had expected, “Oh, uhm… you know, Connor, it’s very nice of you to ask but I… I want to work this through. But next time.”, she answered. Connor understood it and then, Hank was ready to leave the DPD. Yn smiled to herself. The way Connor had asked her was so pure and innocent that she was surprised that he was able to keep up with Hank and all the other cops. He was nice, friendly … even undeniable handsome with these soft brown eyes. Her glance fell on the small plant which caused her smile to get even a bit bigger.

*

It was past nine as yn realized that she was alone in the DPD. Well, there was herself, the police androids in standby mode and Captain Fowler was also still in his office. She sat straight in her chair which caused her spine to crack nasty. She rolled her head left and right and rubbed the back of her neck. As she looked hopefully into her cup, it was already empty.

“You know when the coffee is gone it’s the sign for you to go home.”, Captain Fowler said, who stopped next to yn’s desk, “What are you working on anyway? Something interesting? Or are you trying to make sense of Reed’s paperwork?”

Yn chuckled. Everyone knew that Gavin was a very good Detective with a high crime clearance rate but his manners casted a cloud over his victories most of the time, “No, his files are all fine. But I found something in them. First, there were just two statements with the same name of a Red Ice dealer. Hank also found something that suited this case in his own files. Now, I have a bunch of files and statements all with the same names and places.”

Fowler was hooked immediately. ‘Red Ice’ was still the main problem in Detroit. He grabbed a chair and sat next to yn’s desk, “Tell me more about it.”

Ten minutes later, she had summarized all the information she had found as best as she could. Fowler nodded slowly, seemingly deep in his thoughts. Yn waited for him to speak. She knew that the Captain hated it to get interrupted while he was considering his next steps.

“You really have found something. Maybe even something big. This Joker-guy must have a boss. What you said about him doesn’t sound as if he would be connected enough to get the drugs on his own.”

“I thought the same.”, yn admitted.

Fowler stood up, “Reed and you can follow this trace but, if you need anything, come to me. It’s your first case, take it easy. Even if I know you’re capable.”

“Thanks, Sir. Uhm… I might already have an idea.”, yn said and grinned.

**

After another training session on his boxing bag, Gavin took a hot shower at three o’clock in the morning. The water was slowly running down his body and relaxed all the tense muscles. He tried his best, but Gavin wasn’t able to keep a clear mind. His thoughts were always drifting to all the events of the past day.

The small plant... Connor… the hooker … how he had treated yn…

Gavin sank his head, his hair was falling into his face and the water was running down between his shoulder blades while he supported himself with his hands from the wall. Yn already had noticed that something was bothering him and he knew, if he wouldn’t watch out, that she would ask until there was no other way than telling her the truth why he was on the edge all the time.

Ten minutes later, he left the shower, flung a towel around his hips and stepped to the sink to look into the mirror. Yn had been right, he looked horrible. His lip was still slightly swollen, his cheek a bit red and dark shadows under his eyes betrayed that he was barely sleeping. He checked his appearance one last time, before he groaned, annoyed about himself, and left his reflection alone. There was no solution for any of these problems - and Gavin wouldn’t even start to try to find one.

*

A few hours later and filled up with much coffee, Gavin entered the DPD. He was determined to keep his temper calm. He really wanted to stay cool but as he walked to his desk, his blood pressure was already increasing again.

Yn was there, like an early bird, sitting at her desk. Next to her were Hank and Connor. Yn laughed loudly about something Hank had said and as Gavin came closer he heard something about ‘pigeons’. Gavin approached the small group, all the former good intentions long gone and his bad mood back in charge, “Don't you have your own desks?", he asked and looked annoyed at the two men.

Yn checked quickly on Gavin. He looked a bit better than the day before but she saw that he hadn’t slept again. So, yn wasn’t surprised to see him this moody. But the first thing she had learnt in handling Gavin Reed was to treat him with kindness if he decided to be a prick, "We wish you a good morning as well, Detective.", she said teasingly friendly while she observed his reaction.

"Yeah, yeah,yeah...", he answered bugged, "What is going on here?", Gavin asked and pointed at the file in Connor’s hand. It was one of Gavin's.

Yn rolled with her eyes, "Oh, hell! Calm the fuck down! Eat a Snickers!"

"W-what? Why?", Gavin asked dumbfounded and looked puzzled at her.

Yn grinned at him, "Because your boiling hot latin blood comes through when you're hungry!"

"Latin blood?", Connor asked with one raised brow.

Yn looked at him with a lopsided smirk, "His mother comes from Puerto Rico."

"Hey!", Gavin called out.

Yn looked back at him still grinning, "What? That's not a secret. Oh, and by the way, Hank and Connor are joining us on the Red Ice case-"

"No fucking way! It's our case!", Gavin called out. He got annoyed more and more, although he had planned this day differently, but somehow he got the feeling that yn was working against him.

"Orders from Fowler.", yn explained with crossed arms.

“Why?"

"I gathered all the information and… this case could be big, you know, it might even come with a lead to a drug boss. So, since I got Hank’s case file already involved and because he is the most experienced of us relating to Red Ice cases, it’s just the best solution to be successful. And Connor... he's a very intelligent and advanced boy. It could be useful to have an android on our side.", yn said and winked at Connor with a grin. The way she spoke about him gave Connor a good feeling.

Gavin pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, "Bloody hell! I should have stayed in bed.", he muttered.

Yn looked skeptical at her partner, "The way you look, I'm not sure what you use your bed for but it's not for sleeping."

Slowly, he looked at her and pressed his jaw together to swallow down the comment he had on his lips, "You... I need coffee!", he grunted and went into the kitchen.

Yn followed Gavin with her eyes, a smirk on her lips, "Maybe you should consider bathing in it rather than just drinking it."

Gavin showed her his middle finger and heard her chuckling.

Yn turned over to Hank with a grin, "It's really good to be back."

Hank smirked, enjoying the fact that Gavin got some backtalk, "Reed will kill you when he finds out that it was your idea to get us on board."

"I know.", she answered with a huge grin, “But I wasn’t lying. Fowler approved the idea. Gavin just doesn’t have to know that.”

Connor looked at her. How she grinned and how much fun she had treating Gavin like this was contagious. Connor grinned as well, in his eyes, Gavin deserved this, "You like to fuck him up, don't you?"

Yn looked at the android and nodded slowly, "Hell yes. It's funny. And very easy."

Gavin came back, sat at his desk, took a sip of his coffee but stayed silent.

"Better?", yn grinned.

"No.", Gavin muttered low.

"Perfect. The best base to start the briefing."

[buckysmischief]

running in the dark - 1

Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1,291

Warning(s): language, angst from the start but ends on a good note

AN: It you haven’t seen x men first class and/ or don’t know who Alex Summers is & need a face for the character, just google Lucas Till. & if anyone wants to be tagged, there’s 23 spots.

to the permanent tags - if you don’t want to be on the list anymore for any reason at all, message me and let me know. ill be making a post about it in a few days (maybe) but just figured id mention it now lol

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Your attention wasn’t fully on Alex and he could tell, “Where’s your head at?”

“You,” you lied, “and this game.”

“You hate baseball, Yn. Don’t lie.” Alex Summers was a blonde hair blue eyes masterpiece who was sculpted by the gods, too bad their temper wore off on him.

In the hopes of avoiding a public argument, you thought telling the truth would be the safest bet, “My anxiety is just really high, Wanda and Pietro kinda dropped a bomb on me before I left the house and I haven’t processed it. Remember my old neighbor that I was close to, but we fell out of touch? He’s coming back apparently.” For a moment you thought he had dropped it, but no, he’s been wanting to start a fight since you made him late to the game.

“So you’re telling me that you’re thinking of another guy and the irrelevance of his life to yours in the middle of a date that I paid for?” He always knew how to play the victim, and any other night you would have fallen for it, but not tonight. So you ignored him. “Well I’m gonna go, have fun finding a way home.”

You didn’t have to find one, Wanda was always on standby for situations like this - which was reason number four she didn’t like him. The fact that it happened more than once wasn’t information you wanted to share, but after a long session with your therapist you knew that it wouldn’t do well to keep that information to yourself. If Bucky was here it would have been him, which was something else she wanted to talk about but your time would always run out around that point.

The drive to the house from the stadium was short and quiet, but the moment the smell of the ocean began to fill your senses you felt yourself becoming more grounded. Living at the beach was the one condition you had when Wanda suggested you get a place together, which is why she had four houses picked out before she even asked you.

You just wanted to go sit on the roof and watch the waves crash into the sand, but if Pietro’s car parked in the driveway meant anything it was that the three of you were in for one hell of a night.

“Hey there, doll.” Correction, the four of you. “Long time no see.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Anger was never an emotion you felt for Bucky before he left, but over time it became the only one you could remember.

Bucky knew you wouldn’t be exactly thrilled to see him, not after cutting all communication, but he didn’t expect that. He expected awkward silence, shifty eye contact, even you going off on him. If he knew you were this mad, pretending not to know him mad, he would have gone about this totally different. “Let’s walk the beach, the moon’s just bright enough to light the way.”

“No.” You wanted to run to him and give him a hug that would make up for the eight years of silence, but when you looked at the man who was standing in your living room… he was a stranger. This Bucky’s hair was shorter and he stood taller, you could spot a few tattoos on his arms and another creeping up the side of his neck, he even had facial hair. If so much had changed on the outside, you weren’t ready to find out how much had changed on the inside, not yet. “You’re a stranger, could be a murder for all I know. Or worse, someone who just up and leaves. Already had that happen once tonight, wouldn’t wanna risk it a second time.”

You ignored everyone and walked up to your room and had every intention of going to bed, but the voices coming from downstairs were too distracting - especially since you couldn’t make out what they were saying. It didn’t help that you longed to have your toes in the sand ever since Bucky mentioned that walk. The last thing you were going to do was show your face downstairs though, so your bedroom window was the only way out.

Once you were safely on solid ground and you could taste the salt in the air it was like you could breathe again. In the last six hours your entire world had turned upside down, again. It always seemed like one thing after another but the last six alone have been a complete joke. Sure, lashing out probably wasn’t the best move but what else were you supposed to do? Pretend everything was okay? Not a chance.

“You know, after all these years it’s comforting to know this is still your happy place.” You didn’t hear him coming, but you figured he’d show up eventually.

“So you’re not a stranger.” he started to smile, figuring you were finally over it and ready to talk, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re a stalker.”

“Can you just drop the attitude for five minutes and look at me? You can be mad at me all you want after that. If you can’t give me five minutes then I’ll leave, but when you’re ready I’ll be at Pietro’s.” He stood behind you for a few more minutes, neither of you speaking a word, before deciding to walk away. Your feet were moving before your brain could even register what was happening, and when Bucky turned around with arms wide open because he knew no matter what you’d never let him walk away from you, you ran even faster.

The two of you just sat in silence for a while, but eventually Bucky’s curiosity got the better of him, “So, who is Alex?”

“Alex Summers, he was a grade ahead of us.”

“You’re dating that asshole?”

“How surprised are you really?” Truth be told, he wasn’t. Of course he hoped that at some point over the years you would stop dating losers and find someone who treated you right, for many years he hoped that guy would be him, but sadly he knew neither of those things would happen.

“You deserve someone who’s going to treat you right, Yn, that’s it.” He meant it. Even if that person was someone else, he meant it. Bucky had tried moving on from you by dating a couple different women but they could never compare to you, especially Natasha. She was so jealous of his friendship with you, even the idea of you, that she had somehow manipulated her way into alienating you from his life. It was something he couldn’t undo, but something he was determined to make right.

“So what about you?” wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible, you asked the first thing that came to mind, “How was the Army?”

“It was fine. Got to travel a bit but I mostly stayed in Texas. How have things been here?”

“They’ve been great.” The lie came out easy, it always did. “Do you wanna head back in? I’m starving.”

He pulled you up from your spot in the sand and as he was carrying you back to the house you realized you weren’t mad at him anymore. You had a glimpse of hope that maybe this was the first step in things finally going back to normal since he left.

“So,” he spoke softly, “we’re good?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, we were never not good.” acting as if you didn’t treat him as a stranger only hours ago.

“I was hoping you grew out of being a brat.” Everyone knew that would never happen.

“Me? A brat? Sergeant Barnes, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

perm tags (49/50): @sociallyeneptbarnes @hopesbarnes @stuckonjbbarnes @superavengerpotterstar @estillion14 @sleepingspacedragon @geeksareunique @imsoft-barnes @piper-koko-barnes-rogers @murdermornings @distractedgemini @screaming-fridge @readeity @whatinthyworld @my-drowning-in-time @valkyriesryde @buggy-blogs​ @hey-its-grey @pinknerdpanda @brokenthelovely @theannoyingnightmarecollector @death-unbecomes-you @rhymesmenagerie @teasgyu @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @https-bucky @also-fangirlinsweden @goalexis123 @missmeganrachel @sunflowersandcherry @miraclesoflove @matsumama @reann-loves-sebstan @thinkoutsidethebex @thefridgeismybestie @niall2017 @maddope @imagine-all-the-imagines @thummbelina @m3ga1nsp1r3d @romaniansweetheart @thebadassbitchqueen @king-sebb @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @bonkyboinkybucky @slaytherinthoughts @kingkassam @anti-the-glitch-bitch @poppunkdork

series tags (2/25): @rebekahdawkins​ @writerwrites​

[feeling-uncomfy]

LOV HEADCANNONS BECAUSE THEY'RE SO AMAZING LIKE- A A H

[Half realistic because I really hurt my own feelings last time I'd rather not cry-]

[Mild sexual themes are included,]

First off, I just wanna say that when they move around from base to base, Kurogiri is on standby because Twice always forgets something. Always.

Mr. Compress has marbled something and then lost the marble, then un-marbled it only for the couch to be flipped because "oops I forgot it was big"

Spinner goes into hibernation like Asui during winters and didn't tell anyone to keep up his "cool guy" facade and almost froze to death during a solo mission during winter

It took three hours to find him, and he was buried under snow, half frozen, Dabi found him

Dabi is the Bakugo of the group, if that makes sense

He says he doesn't care but his big brother instincts are always there and he takes care of the league like they're his little siblings

Shigaraki and Spinner are gamer bfs. I don't make the rules

They met on a game before the league became a thing and ended up actually being gamer boyfriends, then they met and hated each other.

They were texting each other "I love you" while glaring at each other from across the room unaware that they were texting almost in sync

Twice cant sleep unless he's hugging something, and his hugs are to die for, so the league takes turns being his cuddle buddy and helping him sleep

Shigaraki only hugs Spinner because he cant out all five fingers on a single scale meaning no disintegration

Dabi has to literally fight Spinner into getting warmer clothes for winter

It's an unspoken rule that if Mr. Compress is sleeping, you have to keep the volume down, and try not to wake him up

Thia started when Toga pointed out to Twice that she'd never seen Mr. Compress sleep at the base, and he was always here

Twice made it his mission to keep Mr. Compress asleep for as long as possible during the day/night. And everyone just sorta joined in

Giran, I love him, but he's probably a pervert. And Twice, a loving himbo, hasn't realised that yet, we all know where this is going.

Toga and Magne went with Twice to a meeting with Giran and it ended abruptly when Toga slammed a knife down onto the table and Magne led Twice out because Giran was getting a little touchy

The league don't let Twice and Giran have much alone time, no matter how much Twice tries to convince them he's good

Also, speaking of himbo Twice, he's the first person in the league to meet Tokoyami outside of hero and villain work

Hawks got caught up in the moment, he was just so damn proud of Tokoyami and ranted to Twice about what had happened

Twice got curious and ended up accidentally stalking Tokoyami and ran into him in the mall while on a class trip.

Tokoyami was actually looking for Shouji(as mentioned the headcannon about Sho wandering) and ran into Twice, who found Shouji first

Tokoyami recognised Twice from the photos Hawks had of him on file and sprinted over

Twice and Shouji were just talking, well- it was mostly Twice and Shouji was listening politely

Tokoyami excused them and Twice lit up and talked about what Tokoyami had done and said he should be proud and Tokoyami was like "...oh- um-"

Anyways, Tokoyami dragged Shouji off and Twice went back to base, happily telling Shigaraki all about the encounter with the two of them

ALSO- Moonfish has never forgotten about the summer camp, or the flesh. Just saying.

Toga stalks everyone in class 1A. Mainly Uraraka, Asui, Todoroki and Midoryia. She stalked Shouji because she's still mad about the summer camp and Tokoyami at Mr. Compress's request

Toga sends them all letters, most are kinda harmless, some are borderline scary

Magne taught Spinner how to paint nails and do makeup and he puts it to good use after.. Overhoe

After that whole fiasco, Twice was completely blank for the next week or so. He barley left Mr. Compress's side, face blank and unmoving.

The league had never seen him so down before. So unenthusiastic, he normally bounced back from these things but...

Dabi got him to spill and Twice sobbed for a solid hour before being able to even breathe properly

Dabi hugged him through the whole thing, letting him let it all out

Spinner helped Toga through it, both of them closer to Magne

Mr. Compress hated his arm for the first while, because he couldn't feel shit and was too strong for his own good

Shigaraki kept a close eye on the people Toga stalked, for some reason

He himself left a letter to Midoryia and Tokoyami, Midoryia's was just a threat and Tokoyami's was an apology and an offer to join the league

Aziawa burned both.

Mr. Compress has accidentally stolen 1A kids before, totally an "accident"

Shigaraki and Dabi both made him give them back, but one time he actually forgot he did it and lost the marble

He assumed it was something else and un-compressed it only for Shouji to pop up in the living room

Spinner screamed and Twice jumped up and yelled about a ghost

Toga laughed her ass off and Dabi and Shigaraki raced to kill Compress first.

Compress assured them he could get the kid back in time and Shouji started freaking out because he was going to be late for school, even though upon closer inspection he seemed sick.

Shigaraki glared at Compress and Toga hopped up with a knife, and said she had an idea

So that's how Toga got into UA, Shouji was stuck with the league, before he could do anything about it he puked, so there really was no getting out of it

Dabi, Compress and Kurogiri took one look at the kid and went "fuck" and Twice almost puked at the smell(same Twice)

Kurogiri got Twice and Compress to go get medicine while Dabi went to get a thermometer and blankets while Shigaraki screamed about the carpet

Shouji was stuck on the couch for the rest of the day, and when Toga came back, melting back into herself, she flopped next to Sho and complained about the fact that a building was dropped on her

That made everyone go "nANI THE FUCK-"

Shouji just pat her head and went "Yeah I get it, you get used to it" making Dabi go "oh hell no" and plan a murder

Shouji didn't get better for a few days, getting knocked down by the sickness and once he was deemed "okay" by the league, it had been a week

Toga came home a little early, covered in blood and tears, making everyone jump

When asked what was wrong, Toga wiped her eyes and walked over to Shouji and went "You've been gone for a week and no one's noticed anything different! Do they really not care about you?!"

Shigaraki's head snapped up, Spinner choked on his cereal and Shouji went tense. No one moved for a while

Shouji stood up, said something about fresh air and walked away, Twice followed him

Shouji was in tears, making Twice feel awful and hugged him.

Oops- I didn't mean to rant about that, I'm gonna cut it off before it goes too far-

Dabi and Spinner dye their hair together, I just think Spinner's hair is dyed idk why

Twice and Hawks almost, ALMOST had a fling, but Dabi walked in and went "not today satan" and dragged Hawks away

Dabi doesn't trust Hawks, at all. Never had, never will.

So he snitches and tells Shigaraki about Tokoyami, and now if Hawks puts a toe out of line Shigaraki leans back and asks Dabi to do something, and all he needs to do is ignite his palm for Hawks to get the message

Tokoyami isn't oblivious to the threats sent his way, often when he sneezes random he looks up and goes "someone's talking about me-" and Asui and Shouji would be confused

At one point, Hawks had fucked up a mission and gotten Compress hurt, and during his next patrol with Tokoyami, Dabi followed them the whole time, and when they were in a crowd, Tokoyami was grabbed by the shoulder by Dabi, the news crew didn't get thr conversation, but they only assumed it was bad when Hawks froze and yelled "don't you dare-!"

Tokoyami was shoved to the ground and Dabi disappeared through a portal. Tokoyami was frozen, having heard the whole thing and was effectively confused.

Hawks kept a closer eye on Tokoyami from that day forward

The class did as well, all worried about their classmate

Stain, when he was around, often found himself following 1A outside of class, as he wanted to see who was considered a "hero" and who wasn't

When he was arrested, they found a list with all the names of the students in class 1A and 1B, most were crossing out, only a few were circled in green pen

On the back, it had those students addresses, with a "train the next generation" written beside it

No one wants to know what was meant by that. The names were not given to the public, but the school went into lockdown just in case

[That's it for now, they're all over the place, I know]

[secondhoekage]

Ignore this long rant I’m high as shit but I... can’t take the hero commission oR HONESTLY THE HEROES THEMSELVES, seriously anymore

They’re BRAINLESS they all share one (1) brain cell and it belonged to Crust. THESE GUYS had MONTHS to strategize this attack and what did they do? They fucked it up. They want me to believe this was planned and not written on a chalk board the night before? Sent out to all heroes the next morning at 8am in a CHAIN EMAIL?

Unpopular opinion(?): they sent the worst possible, ill-suited heroes to each location for this PLF raid and I’m mad at them for it and I’m mad at Hori for making me be mad at it even tho he had to do it beCauSe oF pLot but I’m mad.

The MLA’s plans to take on The League of Villains? Spotless. Chef’s kiss. The detail. The one-on-one counters they planned out. Accounting for each enemy’s quirk. Yeah there were like 6 of them to account for but?? Heroes, yall had enough info and enough time to think of ways to go about this raid and I’m supposed to believe that you did, BUT DID YOU REALLY? MONTHS TO PLAN, and saw one electric Sir Crocodile rip-off and immediately threw Kaminari on his ass. Good move. Kinda. But the rest of the PLF? Heroes just gonna make shit up as they go I guess?? 

To make myself feel better here’s a long ass useless rant on what could’ve damn happened and which heroes should’ve gone where and to make this an epic ass rumble. ugh. Even just doing some of these things would’ve made this arc (imo) feel more... convincing and delicious

under the cut tho bc damn this is too long

In this essay I will—

Edgeshot??? EDGESHOT??    EDGESHOT?? i’M GOING TO GO OFF. 

I swear to shit Edgeshot could’ve soloed the hospital but they had him at the PLF mansion for Some Reason like... like they didn’t make him run up on the League’s bar instead of the Nomu factory bc they knew he would take care of shit immediately. Make it make sense. If he was at the hospital eye just—Nomu in the way?? Doctor running off? Say less. Electric slide all the way in there Shinya. DID NO ONE SEE HOW EASILY HE HANDLED KUROGIRI? Did everyone just forget this man can pull a K.O in .3 seconds flat? Heroes didn’t think it might be a good idea to have him there, ready to give Shigaraki the paper cut of his life the second he woke up (if he even did bc my mans likely could’ve prevented the ‘doctor getting away>high-end awaken>rush to get shiggy out of the tank>shiggy wakes up’ chain of events)? Didn’t think to send him instead of this guy X Less just sitting there with That Look on his face? 

I get they needed heroes like Edgeshot at the mansion to take out a handful of enemies in one go but COME ON NOW. There were more than enough long-range AOE heroes there. And even if you don’t wanna believe he could solo then STILL, EDGESHOT DUOING WITH MIRUKO, ANYBODY? If anyone was gonna keep up with her happy ass zooming into the lab it could’ve been him. We were robbed of an Edgeshot/Miruko teamup and I’m not okay. Could’ve had a sexy ass panel of the hospital-team hyping up Miruko and Edgeshot as they dashed to Ujiko’s lab, two fast as shit bad bitches, zooming through these Nomu, absolutely obliterating them at lightning speed, watching each other’s backs too, PROBABLY SAVING MIRUKO FROM BECOMING THE PRE-DEATH ORGAN DONOR THAT SHE IS NOW. I know it was hot watching Miruko take on these high-ends but I’d have rather Edgeshot share the spotlight if it meant Miruko was in one piece rn. Hori played her

Anyways the literal dumb bitch energy that went into not sending Edgeshot to the hospital is sending me. Could’ve at least let him just be on the team and on standby while Shigaraki was waking up. With those sharp as shit reflexes of his we’ve seen? Shigaraki would’ve been out like a fucking light the second Edgeshot saw him sit up. X-Less you had a nice thicc upper lip that lip was too shaded for you to die, but F in the chat bitch. Useless plot fodder I’m sorry X-Less. There isn’t a hero there right now (besides Aizawa but like... idk, plot is nerfing him) that could’ve incapacitated Shiggy so quickly and prevented the mess they’re in now like my guy Edgeshot could’ve. Feels like a cop out

In conclusion: Edgeshot sweety I’m sorry they did this. I’m sorry you were nerfed. I’m sorry they didn’t let you deliver Kamino Pizza to this hospital. I’m sorry they ignored you and now everyone’s gonna die bc they didn’t they respect your Ninpo rights

CEMENTOSS??? y’all sent him to fuck up the mansion FOR WHAT??? If I were the hero commission and thought :

“Dang we need to completely ass blast this huge PLF resort to make room for our heroes to run in... but it would also be good if we had someone to do that at the hospital too just in case things get tricky and we need to pave a quick way to Ujiko’s secret hideout... but I’m single-celled and can’t weigh my options logically so ok. Cementoss, to the mansion.”

...................... Ok but can I in interest you in PIXIE BOB? I get the mansion is huge but going by the shit we’ve seen her do?? I’m not about to underestimate ol’ girl. I know she could’ve fucked that place up if they let her, switched her out for Cementoss, who could’ve made THE EASIEST route for the hospital team to get into the secret lab, trapped Ujiko, also trapped a couple nomu/high-ends in cement while he was at it, rearranged some tunnels for optimal tactical movement, probably could’ve done a decent-fucking-job at slowing the onslaught of Decay too if it got to that point (AND IT MIGHT NOT HAVE BC THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS RANT IS TO INSIST THAT A BETTER SELECTION OF HEROES WOULDN’T HAVE RESULTED IN SHIGGY’S CURRENT THANOS SNAP ORdEAL)

I know Pixie’s mostly on rescue operations and that’s what she’s doing at the hospital/surrounding city but WHY?? EVEN IF THEY REALLY NEEDED CEMENTOSS AT THE MANSION—WHY NOT HAVE PIXIE BOB DOING SOMETHING IN THE ACTUAL HOSPITAL BATTLE? JUST A LITTLE? The hospital is built on uh.. oh yeah... EARTH? And considering in the Forest Training arc she was using her quirk from a remote location (to make that Earth golem, or whatever) she wouldn’t even HAVE to be IN Ujiko’s lab to be useful

Can y’all PLEASE put at least ONE of your terraforming heroes at the place where y’all REALLY need them?? And not after-the-fact like y’all just did with Pixie Bob? Because clearly she didn’t do shit this last chapter trying to stop Decay. I’m sorry girl. You may be dead. Terrible.

I would have legitimately sent Snipe to get Ujiko before I sent Miruko and that’s that on that. Where is he even? He was there during the briefing but he’s gone? MIA? Idk. No way Ujiko is getting away from those bullets. Target locked: Ujiko’s hand. Fire. High-end Nomu remote goes bye bye. Then another bullet in the leg. No need to worry about him escaping and waking up high-ends/Shiggy when he doesn’t have kneecaps. Problem solved. No way it would’ve taken that long to break Shiggy’s tank either with a few well-placed pew pews zigging around some Nomu (not that we really wanna break him outta his tank bc look what happened). Snipe’s 6/5 technique stat deserves better!!!!!

Gang Orca did not go off and give a bunch of kids brain damage during the License arc to be so thoroughly ignored here. He’s clearly about to get his shit rocked by some gauged-out ex-Hot Topic employee in the next few chapters and ugh you’re TOO GOOD FOR THAT ORCA. COULD’VE BEEN OF USE AT THE HOSPITAL. PARALYZING SONIC WAVES? WE’LL TAKE IT. Who knows if any of the high-end Nomu would’ve been affected by paralysis but the small fry? Probably. Shiggy’s little twink ass? I would bet on it. Not that it would really stop him from using Decay but still

At the risk of sounding like someone I know who endorses child labor (the hero commission) here me out: CAN I GET A UHHH JUZO HONENUKI??? AGAIN YEAH good that he was at the mansion to do some long-range AOE action but if y’all are gonna force kids to join in on this war anyways, put your strongest and most useful ones at the place you need them. Shit it would’ve been real nice if Honenuki was there to trap some Nomu—uncertain if it would work against the high-ends that show some pretty flexible quirks but who knows—and even at the risk of reaching, maybe in some universe where Shiggy and Honenuki face off, it would be interesting to see Decay against Softening, since Decay’s one big weakness is that it can only work on solid objects sooOooOo? Idk. Would’ve been a cool match up but I hate that the kids are fighting anyways so we’re gonna ignore this Juzo rant. Just know it would’ve been cool

And as for the mess that’s going to be this fucking mansion soon... .. We’re just gonna ignore a whole ass Geten, big destructive power, big fucking threat, and not gonna throw Endeavor’s ass in there? Makes sense. They’re leaving it to Shoto I guess. They said time for you to fucking shine kid. Get in there. I mean really trading Endeavor for Edgeshot would’ve been top tier strategy but...

I MEAN THEY?? Made up a whole ass plan to counter ONE greasy-looking PLF guy by throwing Kaminari in there, but they couldn’t make up a plan to counter Geten? Are they just?? Pulling names out of a hat to see who gets to fight who? Did they spin a bottle to see who it landed on? Did Mt. Lady pull the short stick? I swear on shit when Geten starts going feral soon I’m not gonna feel sorry about it. Unless heroes got a plan and someone’s gonna make a sexy ass top 10 anime entrances to counter his ice then I’m disappointed. We went ape shit over Kaminari countering one of the commanders but are we not gonna get anymore ‘I’m your perfect counter and I’m here to stop you’ moments? No? I’M PISSED. 

I would have also settled for my kween Nejire being there to blast away some ice because who tf else is gonna do it? But eh. 

Dabi will also be trouble depending on what he decides to do. He only has about 3 good ideas a month and he’s used them all up by now so he’s in dumb slut territory as we speak. But you’d think that a villain as widely recognized as Dabi with such a destructive quirk would urge the heroes to have some plan to take him on but?? So far I don’t really see anyone quick to take on the role. Not that it’d be that hard bc he’s dangerous but also dangerously dumb. Where is Inasa. Maybe he can just blast the flames back in Dabi’s face. I love him but at this point he deserves to have some of his rights taken away

Don’t even get me start on Gigantomachia. I get the heroes had little choice except to attack before Shiggy was full-power but just?? NOT having a plan in case by some little chance Gigantomachia DID wake up? You stupid bastards. You absolute fools. I guess there’s not much you CAN do but FUCK y’all just gonna let him SIT THERE? No counter measures? No ‘Let’s execute this incredibly thorough and thought-out plan we’ve spent months formulating to restrain Gigantomachia in case he does end up waking up, because better safe than sorry’? When he tramples like 50 students I bet that shit gonna hurt

I hate it all. I was really happy about seeing Shiggy go off 272 bc he’s a king but after rereading from like, 258 I feel... weird. Maybe this will be resolved with more chapters but. eh. Now that I’ve thought of this, I can’t go back. I miss the brain power that was behind the MLA fight

[440mxs-wife]

Blind Date

You took off your shoes before you descended the spiral staircase and rushed off to your room. If Sam or Dean heard you come in, you knew they'd ask you about your date tonight. Some questions, you just didn't want to have to answer, at least not right now.

There weren't enough words to describe how horrible tonight's date was. You were starting to wonder what your friend, Marci from the coffee shop was thinking when she set up these dates for you. This was the third bad date in as many weeks.

The whole reason you agreed to let Marci set you up is because of Dean. Ever since you two met over the phone, you've had a major crush on him. Too bad work has always been in the way, though. Well, that, and the other women he "entertains" from the bar after a successful hunt. After the months and years of being stuck in the "friend-zone", you decided it was probably time to give up. So, you let Marci set you up with a blind date. Then another. Then tonight.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When you first met the Winchesters, you took a call from Dean on your "Hunter's Hotline". His deep, sexy voice was the stuff you dreamed about. You knew he was athletic and most likely gorgeous. However, you also fell for his sense of humor and could tell he had a caring nature as well.

On your hotline, you provided research services and confirmed credentials for suspicious local law enforcement for hunters who needed it. Occasionally, you ventured out into the field if you were part of an undercover op where you had to appear as a couple with a hunter.

It was on a mission like this that you were paired up with Sam, but couldn't take your eyes off of Dean. He was everything you pictured and more. Tall, muscular, with spiky hair and the most captivating emerald eyes you'd ever seen.

Eventually, you found yourself needing protection from the Winchesters. A hunter who was a frequent caller to your line was captured and turned into a vampire. He betrayed you by telling the vamps where to find you. You would have been captured and turned if it had not been for the Winchesters and their angel friend, Castiel. After taking out the vamps and their nest, you took up residence at the bunker, continuing to provide your hunting services.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You tiptoed down the stairs and into your room. Once inside, you closed the door and leaned against it, breathing a sigh of relief that you had escaped detection. You threw your shoes in the closet and got out your teddy bear pajama pants and Queen T-shirt to get ready for bed. A knock on your bedroom door interrupted your thoughts. You silently groaned at the intrusion, but opened the door to see Dean standing there.

"Hey Dean," you said.

"Hey yourself. Everything okay? You're home early," Dean observed.

"Yeah, didn't go so well. I don't know what Marci was thinking when she set me up with that guy," you muttered.

"Wanna talk about it? I got your favorite ice cream on standby for you," he grinned.

"That's so sweet of you, thank you. I really don't want to talk about it. I kinda want to go to sleep and forget the date even happened," you replied.

"Well, if you change your mind, I'll be here," Dean promised. "Goodnight," he said.

"Goodnight, Dean," you answered back. I love you, Dean, you said to yourself as you closed the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dean could tell you were hurting a little from your rotten date. What he couldn't figure out is why a gorgeous woman like you was letting herself be set up by Marci from the coffee shop. When he saw you in your room, you looked like you were on the verge of giving up trying to find someone to love. He certainly didn't want that to be the case, because he had been hoping for a shot with you.

Ever since you met over the phone and since, he's had a soft spot for you in his heart. Your smooth, velvety voice on the other end of the line provided a bit of calm but also some excitement.

When he first saw you on that hunt where you were paired with Sam, that was it. He was hooked on your sassy nature and your love of classic rock. Since you've moved in to the bunker, he has loved the way you've taken care of him and Sam. Sure, he still got together with women from the bars, but it was for no other reason than to try and get over not being with you.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You went over the evening's details in your mind, since you were having trouble getting to sleep. First off, your date was late getting to the restaurant. So late in fact, that you thought he wasn't going to be there at all. Then, during dinner, he was rude to the wait staff. He complained about nearly everything, even though it looked to you like his order was prepared exactly as he had requested.

Finally, when it came time to pay the bill, he went to the bathroom and didn't come out until after you had already paid. Thank goodness you took separate cars, because there was no way you wanted him to find out where you lived.

When you left the restaurant, he was leaned up against his car, which was parked next to yours. He tried to kiss you just before you opened your door, but you slid into the driver's seat and left the restaurant before he could. The whole way home, you kept glancing in your rearview mirror to make sure he wasn't following you.

What's wrong with me? Am I not pretty enough? Too smart? Not tall enough, chest area certainly lacking, I'd say, you said to yourself, as a few tears leaked out and hit your pillow. You reached over for your phone to check the time and noticed it was still somewhat early. At least according to Charlie. You dialed her number and she picked up on the second ring.

"Yo, chickie babe! What's happening? Are you okay?" Charlie asked.

You hesitated before answering, trying to collect yourself. "Guy trouble, huh?" she guessed.

"How'd you know?" you managed to squeak out.

"Lucky guess. So, tell me what happened," she replied. You proceeded to tell her about your disaster of a date from tonight.

"And after all that, he still tried to kiss you?!? What a jerk!" Charlie exclaimed. "Why do you let Marci fix you up with all these losers?" she asked.

"You know why, Charlie," you replied.

"It's because of him, isn't it? You have a thing for Dean Winchester," she stated.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Charlie," you retorted. "Can we please drop it?"

"Yes you do, yes you do have a crush on Dean Winchester!!" she exclaimed. "And no, I'm not dropping it until you admit it, at least to me," she taunted.

"No, Charlie, I won't say that, not even to myself. That makes it too real, too easy to get my heart broken when he doesn't see me that way," you finished quietly.

"How do you know, if you never ask him how he feels, or tell him how you feel? I'm not hanging up until you say 'I am in love with Dean Winchester'," she said.

"Okay, you know what? FINE! I am in love with Dean Winchester! Are you happy now?" you half-shouted.

"Yes. Now get some sleep, it's late. Goodnight, my friend," Charlie replied softly.

"Goodnight, Charlie. Talk to you soon," you said.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

What you didn't know was that Sam was passing by your bedroom door. He happened to catch at least your side of the conversation you just had with Charlie. That means he found out what happened on your latest date and about your feelings for Dean. Sam passed by Dean's door on the way to his own room and noticed the light was still on. He knocked gently, and Dean answered in his pajamas.

"Sorry, man, were you sleeping?" Sam asked.

"Nah, can't sleep right now. Got a lot on my mind," Dean replied.

"Seems to be going around. I just came from the room down the hall, and she was talking to Charlie on the phone about her date," Sam explained.

"Really? What was she saying to Charlie? I asked her about the date, but she said she didn't want to talk about it. Wanted to forget it even happened. Must have been pretty bad," Dean mused.

Sam told Dean what he'd heard about your date with the loser that Marci set you up with. "So, he was late, rude to the wait staff, ditched on the bill and still tried to kiss her?!? What an asshat," Dean responded. "I don't even know why she's letting Marci set her up with anyone anyway. She deserves someone who appreciates her, knows how wonderful she is."

"Yeah, it would be easy for someone to fall in love with her. She's kind, considerate...." Sam trailed off.

"She's got these eyes that just draw you in. When she laughs, it's so infectious that you can't help but laugh with her. And those lips....I've dreamed of how they'd feel when I'm kissing them....to have her arms around me, her hands on me," Dean remarked.

"Maybe you should ask her out, Dean," Sam suggested.

"Get real, Sam. What kind of chance do I have with someone like her? I can't give her what she wants: a home, family, a partner with a less dangerous profession. You know I'm not what she deserves," Dean muttered.

"How do you know what she wants? Have you asked her? If not, maybe you should. Might surprise you," Sam whispered under his breath.

"Leave it alone, Sam. Come on, I'm getting tired. I think I can get to sleep now," Dean remarked.

"Think about what I said, Dean. You should talk to her," Sam said.

"Goodnight, Sam," Dean grumbled as he pushed Sam out the door.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following week, Marci called you and said she had the perfect guy lined up for you. "Marci, you said that about the last three guys, and the last one was the worst! If this one doesn't work out, I quit. I'll stay single for the rest of my life, but no more of your setups," you declared.

"I know, I know, but you'll be sorry if you don't at least give him a chance. His name is Charles, he's tall, has brown hair, brown eyes, and he's a pilot. He loves to read, go to movies, and he's very wealthy," Marci explained.

"Marci, you know that I don't care about money," you groaned.

"Yes, but that just means that he can afford to show you the finer things in life," she mentioned.

"Marci....I'll go out with him, but if it doesn't work, that's it. You're fired," you told her, to which she agreed.

Friday rolled around, the night of your date with Charles. He insisted on picking you up in his Porsche 914. This went against your normal plan of meeting your blind dates at the public place, in case you needed to make a discreet exit.

Dean answered the door, let him in but before Charles could say anything, Dean said you weren't ready yet. Charles came in to wait for you and tried to make small talk with both Sam and Dean while you finished getting ready.

About 10 minutes after he got there, you appeared, ready to go out. You had on your sparkly pale pink dress, with 3/4 sleeves and a skirt that ended just above your knee. Your short brown hair was parted on the side, held back on the long side with a clip encrusted with crystals.

You exchanged greetings with Charles, and took your leave from the boys. Before you went through the door, you turned, caught Dean's eye and gave him a small smile. Then you followed Charles out to his car.

Dinner was at the fancy Italian restaurant in town, Ravelli's. The meal was pleasant enough, except that Charles did most of the talking. He told you about places that he'd flown to as a pilot, and where he'd like to go. When you tried to join in and tell him about where you'd like to go, he acknowledged you, then turned the conversation back to himself.

Finally, you'd had enough of being with Charles, so you excused yourself to the ladies' room, but to make a phone call. You couldn't reach Dean on his cell phone, so you called Sam.

You told him you needed him to rescue you because your date was being a jerk, and he drove you to the restaurant. Sam said there was no problem, that you would be rescued from your jerk date. He asked you to give him about twenty minutes before heading out to the parking lot.

To stall for time, you asked for an espresso coffee as an after-dinner drink. You sipped at it while Charles waited for the check and paid it. After about twenty minutes, you abandoned your drink and you walked out to the car with Charles.

He followed you to the passenger side of the car. Instead of opening the door for you, he pushed you against the car and started kissing you very roughly. You asked him to stop, that you weren't attracted to him like that and tried to push him away. He grabbed your upper arms hard enough that you were afraid he'd left bruises. Then he said your date with him wasn't done quite yet.

"Oh, yeah it is, buddy," was all you heard before Charles was knocked to the ground by none other than Dean Winchester. Dean gently took your hands and asked if you were okay, and all you could do was nod. Charles started to get back up as if to fight Dean, but after seeing the look on Dean's face he thought better of it. Dean clasped your hand in his and guided you over to the passenger side of the Impala.

Dean stopped briefly before opening the door. He put his index finger under your chin and tilted your face so your eyes met his. "Are you okay?" he asked. You started to nod your head yes, then shook it no and burst into tears. Dean wrapped his arms around you in a tender embrace and rubbed up and down your back. "Shh, shh, it's okay, sweetheart. I've got you. He can't hurt you anymore," he soothed.

When your tears subsided, you pulled back to gaze into Dean's mossy green orbs. "Better?" he asked. You nodded and gave him a small smile, then you climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean settled in behind the wheel and you headed for home.

The trip home was mostly silent, with just small talk passing between you and Dean. You were relieved to see the bunker, the place you called home, where you felt safe and loved.

Before going to your room, you thanked Dean for rescuing you. Reaching up, you gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek, lingering just a little. You hurried off out of sight before he could see the blush creeping across your face.

Dean stood there for a few minutes, his fingertips on his cheek where you'd kissed him. His skin still tingled from where your lips briefly made such intimate contact. Right then and there, he made a decision in his mind and needed to talk to you about it.

You were just about to remove your dress and change into your pajama pants and T-shirt, when there was a knock at the door. You opened the door a crack to see Dean standing there. He said he needed to talk to you about something, and asked if he could come in. You opened the door enough to let him in then closed it again.

"Some night, huh?" he started as he leaned against the back of your door.

"Yeah, some night. I told Marci that if this guy didn't work out, that I was done with her fix-ups, she was fired," you chuckled, sitting on the bed. "Thank you again for coming to get me."

He walked over and sat next to you on the bed. "Something I gotta know. Why do you keep going out with all these random guys that Marci sets you up with?" Dean asked.

You took a deep breath before answering. "I'm trying to get over someone. It's someone that I love, but there's no way he would ever love me back," you replied.

"What?!? How could there be anyone in this world that wouldn't love you back?? Who is this person?" he demanded.

"You, Dean. It's you. I've loved you for a very long time, pretty much since we met in person all those years ago. I fell in love with you by phone first, then even more so after that mission where I had to pose as a couple with Sam.

“I know you don't love me back, because you seem to prefer the type of women that you find in the bar. Let's face it, they've got a lot more in common with you than I do," you finished.

Dean reached over and clasped your hands in his. "Sweetheart, you couldn't be more wrong. I do love you, with all my heart. I fell in love with your velvety smooth voice over the phone. Then when I saw what a knockout you are in person, I knew I had to make you mine.

“What has stopped me is that I never thought you could ever be in love with someone like me, because I can't give you what you need. A home, family, a life without monsters--" Dean was stopped short as you put your hand on the side of his cheek and stroked it with your thumb.

"What I need, Dean Winchester, is everything I see before me. You are the most incredible man I've ever met. You're smart, kind, strong and thoughtful. I love your sense of humor, and how much you care about others, more than yourself even. Earlier, when you held me in your arms, I knew I was safe and protected. I love you, Dean. Always have, and I always will," you finished.

Dean brushed his fingertips on your cheek, then moved his hand to the back of your head. He pulled you closer and slammed his lips against yours. As if on instinct, your arms came up and wrapped around his neck, pulling him even closer if that was possible. His hand moved from the back of your head to massage up and down your back.

"Oh, sweetheart. You are the best thing to come into my life. I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you, Dean. It means so much to me to have you in my life, more than I could ever say," you replied softly.

Dean noticed you had gotten your pajamas out. "Why don't you change into these in here, then meet me in my room afterwards?" he suggested, as he traced your jawline with his finger. "Because I'd love to wake up tomorrow morning with you in my arms," he remarked.

"I believe I can arrange that, Mr. Winchester. I can think of nowhere else I'd rather be. See you in a few minutes?" you replied. He nodded slowly, then moved in to kiss you again. "One for the road, you see," he winked as he closed the door behind him.

You removed your dress and hung it back up in your closet. You hurried up and changed into your pajamas, turned off your bedroom light and closed the door. You walked down the hall to Dean's door and gave it a tentative knock. He answered in his bottoms, but no shirt. Good heavens, the man was magnificent. "Hey," he said softly, taking your hand and drawing you inside his room.

Dean sat down on the bed and patted the spot next to him. You sauntered over and lowered yourself to sit in the designated spot. "Nice mattress," you remarked, bouncing a little.

"It's memory foam. It remembers me," he grinned.

"I know the feeling. You're kind of unforgettable, Dean," you replied as you leaned in and meshed your lips to his.

When the kiss was broken, the blankets were pulled back, you both got underneath and wrapped the blankets around you. Dean spooned up behind you, kissed your neck then nuzzled it with his stubbly beard. "Dean, that tickles," you giggled, and you could feel him smiling against your skin. He curled his arm around your midsection, pulling you closer to him.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," Dean murmured.

"Goodnight, my love," you replied softly.

[themaskedwriter]

Never Gonna Give You Up

Pairing: Peter Parker x Teen!Reader

Word Count: 1979

Summary: There’s a prank war going on that has to do with a certain song, but no one is owning up to it. The only people amused are Peter and his s/o that gave him the idea. Then Peter decides to turn on you, but you don’t really mind.

Warnings: Rick Astley, if that counts

A/N: I love prankster Pete, it’s just so wholesome

Clues: The color red on nearly any character is one of my weaknesses, I’m a Pisces and astrology is one of my many hobbies, and I call my hometown “yeehaw territory”

————-

“We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of

You wouldn’t get this from any other guy”

 Tony was confused. He did not remember adding the Rick Astley classic to his hard rock playlist, or any other playlist for that matter. But it was still being heard by friend and for during a raid on a HYDRA base, completely baffling everyone there.

 All he wanted to do was kick ass and listen to AC/DC while he did so. Was that too much to ask? Apparently.

No matter what he did, what song he tried to skip to, the command was overridden and that cursed song continued to play. He couldn’t focus on fixing his playlist mid-battle, so he just worked around it and planned very satisfying revenge for whoever did this.

 ————-

 Peter showed you some of the audio from the previous mission, Tony fumbling and cursing when his audio wasn’t cooperating and the rest of the team laughing or groaning in shared annoyance.

 By the end of the audio, you both were rolling around on the bottom bunk of his bed in hysterical laughter. You had brought the idea up about using the song-that-became-a-meme to your boyfriend during chemistry class. Needless to say, it yielded terrific results. “Babe, that was absolutely genius!”

 “Come on, you know you did the heavy lifting. Hacking into the Iron Man suit? That is absolutely insane!”

 Peter’s smile took over his whole face as he let himself feel a little bit of pride for the accomplishment. Maybe it was time to step it up a notch. It was to impress you, after all… 

————-

 During target practice the next day, Clint’s day had started normally. He woke up a good two hours after everyone else and drank a pot of coffee, nothing unusual.

 His bow and quiver were still safely stored in the weapons vault and they looked completely untampered with. Extending an invite to Nat and Bucky, the trio headed to the indoor shooting range.

 Headphones on. Targets ready. Arrow notched. Arm pulled back. Deep breath in.

��Fwoosh!

Thud!

 “Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around

And desert you!”

 “Clint, what the-”

“Turn it off, man!”

“I don’t know what’s happening!”

 Clint has no clue why his arrow sang when it hit the target. Maybe it was a dud or something since he knew that he didn’t add that option to his arrows. An interesting dud, but a dud nonetheless.

 “What do we do?!”

“Try shooting another arrow at it!”

 Fwoosh!

Thud!

 “Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

And hurt you!”

“It’s happening again!”

“No shit!”

“Try another one!”

 Before Clint could fire another arrow at the target, Nat snatched the bow from his hands. “For all we know, every single one of these arrows sing! No one is firing anything!” The redhead jumps over the barrier and to Clint’s target, promptly yanking the arrows out of the center of the target and snapping them in two.

 The audio is distorted for a few seconds before crackling out, a couple sparks coming from the bugged arrows.

 “That was an adventure. Who wants lunch?” Clint offers, giving up on target practice for the day.

“We literally just ate breakfast two hours ago, how are you hungry?” Nat raised an eyebrow at her friend.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s eat.”

 ————-

 Since becoming an Avenger (kinda), Peter had been given his own lab that was connected to Bruce and Tony’s in case something went wrong. In this lab he had access to both Karen and FRIDAY, the AI’s being extremely useful to the teen for various reasons.

 Sometimes he asked about certain formulas or the whereabouts of his mentor(s), but today he asked FRIDAY to show him the video feed from the shooting range.

 You were perched on one of Peter’s worktables, legs dangling off the edge. There was a bowl of popcorn at the ready, just waiting for the show. Peter sat in the chair next to you and leaned his head against your leg, one hand rubbing it affectionately.

 You both disregarded the small talk coming from the trio in favor of the reason you were watching in the first place: the latest prank.

 At first, you both succeeded in keeping your laughter at an acceptable volume. The key words were “at first” because when Bucky told Clint to shoot another arrow at the first arrow, Peter lost it. The thing about Peter’s laughter was that it was contagious, and his laughter caused you to fall apart not far behind.

 “Pete! Y/N! What in the world-” At the sound of the region’s voice in the lab, Peter hastily closed the video feed, hoping Tony didn’t realize what was going on.

“Nothing, Mr. Stark! We’re not doing anything! Just, uh…”

“Watching cat videos! You should have seen Snuggles when his claws got stuck to the curtain! Comedy gold!”

 Tony gave the two of you an incredulous look. He didn’t know what you were up to, but he knew you guys weren’t laughing that hard at the demise of Snuggles. “Right… just keep it down a bit, will ya? Bruce dropped a beaker of chlorine trifluoride and now we have a new window straight down into the gym.” Tony left the lab as quickly as he arrived, leaving you be.

 Once he was gone, Peter gave you a look that said “how did you think of that on the spot?!” because your boyfriend is literally the worst liar you have ever met.

 You shot him a wink as you turned the video feed back on, not failing to notice how he shifts closer to you and wraps his arms around your leg, arms resting on the top of your foot. It took you a little while to get used to your boyfriend’s cuddly nature, seeing as he is more than willing to have any kind of physical contact, no matter how unconventional, at any given time.

 ————-

 Neither of you kept track of how many times you played the footage over, but it was indeed more than a dozen.

 But during about the sixth repeat, your boyfriend had an idea all his own, and decided to enlist the help of his mentor. He had been asking you for help with the elaborate pranks in your previous endeavors, but this was an idea that you couldn’t help him bring to life.

 ————-

 “So why are you doing this song? Any… special reason for it?”

 Tony was glad to help Pete with his plan, but the fact the teen had chosen this song made him realize two things: one, you and Peter were the culprits behind the hacking of his suit as well as the mods on Clint’s arrows; and two, Peter was completely and utterly in love with you, whether the kid knew it or not.

 Peter’s cheeks tinted at the question, not wanting to give the whole truth but also not wanting to expose the both of you. So he settled for a middle ground and hoped that Tony didn’t completely see through it. “It’s a song that means a lot to both of us, and it’s also a promise of sorts.”

 Tony could tell that he was a bit reserved about telling much more and so the tycoon let it drop, favoring to work in silence (well, almost silence if you count the Rick Astley hit playing occasionally).

 ————-

 Friday night, and you were all alone. Everyone that was normally at home with you had something better to occupy their time, leaving you to your own devices. Peter was out in the city patrolling, Ned was with his parents at some sort of family get-together for the weekend out of state, and MJ had found a way to some protest upstate.

 Right when you get home from school that afternoon, you began to marathon the latest season of GLOW with junk food on standby. This was one of the only shows you didn’t have a binging partner with, so there was no risk of offending any of your friends about watching ahead.

 Just as the third episode was starting to get good, there was a thud against your bedroom window. You found that quite peculiar since you lived on the top floor of a Queens brownstone, so you decide to investigate.

 Resting your laptop beside you, you move aside your curtains and try to see by the streetlamps whether or not there was an animal on the windowsill. Seeing nothing, you head back to your bed. Right when you pick up your laptop, you hear it again.

 Of course.

 Groaning as you set your laptop back down on the bed, you open your window once again and this time, you take a better look at your surroundings. You looked beside your windows and found nothing, but when you looked down, there was Peter in front of… a car?

 When did Peter get a car?!

 You were about to ask him that very question when your eyes caught a metallic glint that certainly wasn’t this random car. It was a boombox, and when he saw that you noticed him, he immediately picked it up and pressed ‘play,’ holding it above his head like it was Simba.

 The familiar instrumental nearly made you fall out of the window in laughter. Nothing, however, compared to your amusement when your cheesy ass boyfriend decided to sing along.

 “We’re no strangers to love

You know the rules and so do I

A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of

You wouldn’t get this from any other guy”

 That’s it, everyone else go home. Peter Benjamin Parker was the cutest boyfriend on the planet.

 You could tell Peter was having a great time, his smile nearly taking over his face. He was wearing jeans and a sweater over his Spidey suit (you could see the telltale red on his hands and wrists and he wasn’t wearing shoes), and his hair was tousled from what you assumed to be his mask. ‘He must have stopped at your house mid-patrol,’ you realize with a smile.

 “I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling

Gotta make you understand”

 Before he gets to the chorus, he sets the boombox back on top of the car’s hood and begins to dance… if you could call it that. It was honestly just a very spot-on copy of Rick’s swaying thing that he did the entire video. You honestly didn’t care how he moved about; this was the cheesiest thing you had ever seen, and it was your boyfriend doing it! Peter, the biggest, cuddly dork you knew, was doing this for you.

 Obviously he chose this song because of your pranking endeavors from the past few weeks, but it was more than RickRolling the Avengers.

 “Never gonna give you up

Never gonna let you down

Never gonna run around

And desert you!

Never gonna make you cry

Never gonna say goodbye

Never gonna tell a lie

And hurt you!”

 Peter kept swaying and singing, completely ignoring the yelling and hollering from your neighbors about the noise. He kept his eyes on you as he sang along with the hit and you couldn’t even bring yourself to care about the people outside of your little bubble with Pete. Part of you dared one of your neighbors to call the cops because what were they going to do, arrest Spider-Man?

 Once he finished, you immediately left your window and ran downstairs. Peter was leaning against the mystery car, just waiting for you to run up to him. You did, predictably, and instead of staying outside in the cold, you pulled him inside of your brownstone and didn’t let him leave your side the rest of the night.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

answers (16)

Anonymous said: A lot of these secrets are really serious and sad so heres a lighter one: me and my sister are knitting christmas socks for the whole family as a surprise. Ive never knit a pattern before but im really good!!

Amazing!! 

Anonymous said: idk if your still doing this but my secret is I fear im a terrible person who only acts nice to rick people into liking her and ik that actually does make me an okay but i still feel im doing it for the wrong reasons and someones going to get too close and find out the truth and hate me

That’s very self aware of you, I think-- probably too self aware. You’re absolutely right to say it’s the trying that matters, but I’m not gonna blame you for worrying about it. I have similar concerns about myself sometimes. I’m aware that for me personally they’re partially justified. Some of my kindness is self motivated. 

I think though (and it seems like you already know this) it’s the effect of the kindness that matters. Maybe it’s better for me if I have “pure” intentions, but if I don’t, I should still do the kind things anyway, right? Because at the end there’s still going to be good. And there’s nothing bad about actively trying to be good, which is all we’re doing. 

Anonymous said: my secret is that ive been chasing after a dream my whole life but im not sure ill ever achieve it. times running out and i dont know what to do if i cant. i feel like my whole life has been put on standby and i dont know the way out. i know ill be okay in the end but i dont know what the end will be and that scares me.

Shit that’s relatable. You really will be okay, but it’s terrifying in the meantime, isn’t it? To have those turning points bearing down on you?

Things will happen. You can’t stop that. Time is gonna continue, but you’ll still be there at the end. Your head’s already in the right place. 

Anonymous said: My secret is that I really, really like one of my friends, but he has a girlfriend and slept with one of my best friends when they were both super drunk. I want the feelings to stop and go back to being just friends, because I honestly think I don't have a chance, but there is a small part of me that doesn't want to let go. I don't know what to do.

Well that’s a bitch of a situation, isn’t it? Romantic feelings aren’t really my area, but I understand holding on to things you consciously want to let go. Emotions always feel like part of me, you know? I don’t want to tear them away. Sometimes it’s better to do it, though. I don’t know from a few sentences if that’s the case here, but I hope you find the way that’s the best for you 

Anonymous said: My secret is I used to be suicidal, in my pre/early teens. I had realised I was lesbian in a small, largely Catholic town and hated myself for it. I was awful at social situations and couldn’t make friends. I hated myself for having baby fat because I danced part time. Then as I got older I slowly got more confident until one day a friend died I realised that holy shit I used to be suicidal and I could have killed myself. I’m terrified that I might get like that again and actually do it

Honestly, and I know this is gonna sound cliche, but I’m always in awe of folks like you. I don’t handle my own mental health issues super well most of the time, and to hear about someone growing? Changing? Getting better? Amazing

Anonymous said: If you're still taking these... my secret is that I don't want to give birth to children ever, and would consider adopting instead (when I'm older), but if I were to voice that to any family member or even an acquitance, they would shun me for it and make sure they try to talk me out of it. I really hate how conservative people put so many expectations on my shoulders

Heyyyyyy same. I’m not planning on birthing any kids, but my parents have come down pretty heavily on the single-women-should-not-adopt-children thing, which is.... bullshit. I’m gonna adopt some kids one day, whether they like it or not. 

You know your own mind and your own plans. Other people don’t have to be happy about them, even (maybe especially) family members. 

Anonymous said: My secret is that I’m a bad friend. I don’t make time for the few friends I have and spend most my time working or being in my room. They deserve better than me.

I don’t think you’re a bad friend. Not being around isn’t bad-friend behavior. You’re not hurting anyone. You’re not doing anything wrong. And I certainly don’t think that it justifies the idea that they should leave you. Relationships are always kinda a difficult balancing act, but you don’t have to be perfect at balancing it, you know?

Anonymous said: My secret is that I'm extremely self-sufficient, I've always had to be. But because there's no one else taking care of me it's so hard to invest my time in others because I'll neglect my own mental state. It make sit hard to develop stable relationships. Every once in a while I re-realize that I'm no one's priority so I have to be my own. And it just sucks.

Shit anon that’s really really rough. It makes me sad with you. I’m not going to tell you you’re wrong, because I don’t know, do I? But I hope you are. 

Anonymous said: My secret is I imagine myself as OCs I create for certain fandoms like Young Justice or Castlevania, and I spend all my time daydreaming of how I would act in episodes and how I would interact with the characters. I think it’s because I’m not satisfied with my life, and I’m also afraid that this makes me either weird or crazy.

Oh biggest mood

I do that too. I’m not in a position to say whether that’s a good or bad thing, but I like to think it just makes us creative. For me, it eventually found an outlet in writing, and that’s been a big source of joy in my life. I had some unpleasant experiences sharing that stuff with people in the past, but for me? I don’t worry about it anymore. I know a lot of people that do similar stuff.

Write some fanfiction, maybe :) You might be real good at it

Anonymous said: My secret is I’m secretly attracted to people who are better than me at stuff

That’s not really my area, but seems to me that’s a pretty good thing to be attracted to. One of the sweetest things I hear around school is people talking about how their partners are going to be such good lawyers. It’s cute. 

Anonymous said: My secret is that my anxiety is crushing me. I don't want to feel this way anymore.

Oh, anon. I just.... feel you. I’ve been really struggling lately with the idea that other people move through life without that handicap, and it amazes and angers me. Why don’t I get that? Why am I like this? It isn’t fair. 

And it isn’t. It just isn’t. You didn’t ask to death match your brain every second of the day. You’re not any worse than everyone else, so why do you have to suffer? I don’t know. I really don’t.

The only happy thing I can say to you is people do heal. It’s bullshit that it takes so much time and effort, but it is possible. I’m better off now than I was five years ago, even if it did take five years and a whole lot of therapy, medication, and energy. You shouldn’t have to fight like this, but you can, and you can win. 

Anonymous said: My secret is Im so bitter most of the time that I cant be happy for others. Me and my best friend are both singers but I can never be happy for her when she gets compliments or any success bc im jealous and im scared I'll never learn to be selfless and happy for other people

You’re only human. You have human emotions. You have every right to feel them. The only thing that matters is your choices, because that’s the only thing you can control. 

I’m so sorry you’re scared. That’s another emotion you have every right to feel 

Anonymous said: My secret is that sometimes I hated myself for not express what I felt because I thought they'll hate me or make distance of me but I'm learning to express my feelings to others and try to be more confidence :) I hope you'll be brave too and do whatever you want to do 💜

I wanna be anon when I grow up 

Anonymous said: My secret is that my hands hurt all the time but in different ways, and I’m scared to get help because I’m scared they’ll tell me I’m making it up or being dramatic.

Man do I hate the shit people put you through to get medical help. Everybody’s entitled to ask, aren’t they? So why are we all making that difficult? Why are we making people feel bad about their own pain?

I understand your fear, but I hope you start asking questions anyway. Other people’s opinions about it aren’t your fault

Anonymous said: My secret is that my dermatillomania has gotten way worse since I got to college, so I’m having to wear headscarves again to keep myself from picking my scalp. I smuggled my scarf collection out of my room without telling my parents.

I’m sorry, anon. That’s difficult. That sucks. That’s bullshit. 

Anonymous said: my secret is that when one of my family members says something homophobic I'll laugh and agree because I'm afraid that they'll disown me if there's any shred of proof that I'm LGBT and it makes me feel like such filth

That’s not your fault. It’s theirs for making you feel unsafe, because your safety really should be your first priority! That’s okay! You’re not being a bad person by doing it. You’re just protecting someone. You’re allowed to make that someone you

[hymn2000]

Hope I’ve Got Something To Lose - MCU AU fanfic - C6

Story overview: Peter has an accident, and Tony makes a drastic decision. In the midst of everything, a face from the past reappears - but Peter isn’t too sure about reconnecting after everything that’s happened.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

Part of my irondad and spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: injury, hospital stuff, hurt/comfort, mental health stuff, family stuff

You can also find me on AO3

Chapter 6 - The Man You Never Saw

-

Malaki moved from Peter’s lips and kissed him on the apple of his cheek before moving back slightly.

“I know there’s about a million and one reason why we couldn’t or shouldn’t” he started, rubbing Peter’s thigh. “But I was thinking... My parents are at work, and even if they weren’t, my room is upstairs, and I’ve got a second bedroom in the annex. Maybe we could go back to mine for a bit? Spend some time together?”

Peter looked at him. He swallowed hard and pushed Malaki’s hand off his thigh.

“Too forward?”

Peter nodded. 

“Wanna rewind a few seconds and act like I never asked?”

Peter paused, and then nodded. Malaki cleared his throat, put his hand back where it had been, and acted like he’d just finished kissing him.

“Are you hungry? For something other than me, I mean”

Peter laughed, and then shrugged.

“Should we go and get something? I don’t mind what. I kinda really fancy ice cream. Is that weird?”

Peter shook his head and smiled. Malaki stood up, holding a hand out to Peter.

“Come on then, beautiful. I think I know a place you’ll like”

-

Peter felt all giddy and fuzzy as he walked home. Malaki was always such good company, and even more so now, given the current circumstances. Peter slipped into the house carefully, going so far undetected. He snuck up to his room, quickly changing back into the pair of joggers and old t-shirt he’d worn for bed the night before. He was glad he did, because he suddenly heard footsteps. He wasted no time, diving into bed and pulling the covers up to his chin, pretending to be asleep.

The bedroom door opened, and mere moment later, he felt Tony shaking his shoulder. Peter whined and opened his eyes slowly.

“Still in bed, chick? You know it’s like, two in the afternoon”

“Really? Oh..”

“Don’t worry; you needed the rest anyway. Plus, it’s partly my fault. I got really caught up with stuff down in the lab”

“I guessed as much” Peter said, looking at his oil-stained clothes and the workman’s gloves tucked in his belt. 

“Yeah. I just caught sight of the time and thought I’d better check on you. Are you gonna sleep a bit more, or do you want to get up now?” 

“I think I’ll get up” Peter said, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. “I think I’m gonna have a bath”

“Ok, chick” 

Tony went to give him a hug, but Peter jerked away from him before he got the chance.

“Don’t!”

Tony pulled back.

“Peter? Are you ok?”

“Mmm. I’m just real sore today. It’ll hurt if you start squeezing me”

“Oh. Oh sweetheart, ok. You need to take your pills if you’re still in pain. You shouldn’t suffer needlessly. Hey” he took Peter hand and kissed the back of it. “Don’t look so sad. You take your pills and have a nice bath and have something to eat, and you’ll feel much better”

Peter nodded. “Yeah, I hope so”

Tony gave his hand a squeeze and let go. He stopped when he reached the door.

“Hey, Peter? Why don’t you come down to the lab after you’ve had your bath? The new code is 227711” 

-

Peter spent quite a long time in the bath, thinking about how he’d gotten away with sneaking out, thinking about Malaki, thinking about the new code. If he was being given access to the lab again, surely he’d eventually get the suit back? He supposed the only thing he could really do would be to just wait and see.

-

It felt weird and foreign going into the lab again. Tony gave him a little wave.

“Hey kiddo. Hey, can you come and hold this into place for me? I’ve broken the vice and I can’t find the spare”

“How do you break a vice?”

“The same way your father managed to set fire to the kettle”

-

Peter didn’t want to leave the lab. He tried not to make a fuss, but he found himself stopping in the doorway and biting his thumb. Tony gave him a little push over the threshold and pulled the door closed.

“Don’t look so worried: I’m not going to change the code”

“Promise?” 

“Promise. Come on now, your father’ll be back by now. Now cross your fingers that he’s had a good day”

-

Loki was definitely in a good mood, and after ruffling Peter’s hair, he’d grabbed Tony for a kiss, and the two of them had very soon fallen down onto the sofa together. Peter didn’t fancy hanging about watching them showcasing their love, so he tactfully slipped away and went to look through the kitchen cupboards and decide what they might be able to have for tea.

-

Loki came into the kitchen for two reasons: firstly, to get himself a drink, and secondly, to investigate the cause of the crashing sounds.

“What are you up to there, love?” Loki asked, switching the kettle on and getting his mug down from his cupboard.

“Cooking” Peter said. 

“I see. And what are you cooking?”

“You’ll find out when it’s ready” 

Loki laughed. He let the kettle boil, poured the water, and left his tea to brew. He went to stand behind Peter, and lowered his head to the boys level.

“I know you didn’t go back inside after I left this morning” he said quietly. 

Peter froze momentarily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”

Loki smacked him hard on the bottom.

“Ow!”

“There’s no use lying to me, kiddo. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes that easily. Does Tony know?”

Peter shook his head and looked at him over his shoulder. “Are you gonna tell him?” 

“No. But I can’t cover for you all the time. You really shouldn’t’ve snuck out like that”

“But I’m sick of being stuck inside all the time!” Peter started, and then he saw the look on Loki’s face, and wilted. “What are you gonna do to me?”

“How about I just do this?” he smacked him again, harder this time. “And we draw a line under it. Keep it between us?”

Peter very nearly went into a sulk, but he realised how valuable Loki’s offer was, so he sighed and nodded. Loki went to finish making his drink, and Peter resumed what he was doing. 

“Oh, and Peter?” Loki said, stopping in the doorway. “Don’t leave the pan handles pointing out like that. You’ll knock them off in passing”

Peter looked at him, and then back at his pans. He moved them so the handles were over the counter. Loki nodded.

“Good boy”

-

Tony covered his face with his hands when Loki told him Peter was cooking.

“Oh god, what did I do to deserve this?! I can’t cope with another repeat of that chilli flake disaster”

Loki laughed at him. “You’re overreacting, my dear”

Tony moved his hands. “Am I? Did he tell you what he was making?”

“No” Loki said, sitting beside him. “He had a recipe book out, but he shut it when I came over”

Tony sighed. “Well, saves me a job, I suppose”

Loki leant against him, sipping his tea. “Whatever he makes, at least it can’t be anywhere near as bad as anything you made when we first got together”

“Ah, I think you’re right there” Tony admitted. “Remember that panna cotta?”

“I’m afraid so” Loki shook his head. “I also remember burnt pasta and hard tofu, and I still have no idea how you managed that”

“Shoutout to Pepper, eh?”

Loki nodded, raising his mug in a cheers gesture. “Shoutout to Pepper, indeed”

-

Loki fell asleep for a little bit, and had to be woken up when dinner was ready. He didn’t feel 100%, but he was happy to step up to the plate for Peter’s sake.

“So, how much chilli did you use today?” Tony asked when they sat down in the kitchen. “Do we need to get the doctor on standby?”

Loki kicked him under the table. “Leave the poor kid alone: you’re upsetting him” 

“No I’m not! Am I, Pete?”

“..You are a little bit”

Tony sighed. 

“Well you don’t have to eat if you don’t want to!” 

“Hey hey, no need to get shouty”

Before either one of them could escalate it, Loki stood up and put an arm round Peter’s shoulders.

“What have you made for us tonight, sweetie?”

Peter didn’t want to speak again in case he started crying, so he went and got the recipe book and showed him. 

“Well, there’s nothing offensive about that. Is there, Tony?”

Tony had a look at the page. Cheesy chicken and broccoli whole wheat pasta.

“Why whole wheat?”

“Because that’s what the recipe says, you dunce” Loki said, snapping the book shut and hitting Tony over the head with it. “Anyway, I’m starving to death, so can we stop arguing and just eat, my darling husband?”

“Yeah yeah, ok, ok”

“Thank you. I need a drink”

“I-um, I’ve already got you one...” Peter said.

Loki looked at the table. “So you have”

-

Towards the end of the meal, Tony stopped and looked at Peter.

“Have you left something in the oven, kiddo?”

“I’m timing it..”

“Oh right. What is it?”

“It’s nothing, really...” Peter swallowed. “I just felt like making a cake...”

“What kind of cake?”

Loki kicked him hard under the table.

“Ow! Loki! What was that for?!”

“My foot slipped”

“Like hell it did!”

They stared each other down, but then the front door opened, distracting them. Loki got up to go and greet Thor, while Tony stayed at the table. He sighed heavily, and then noticed Peter looking at him.

“This is good, chick. You should make it again some time”

-

Something about Thor’s presence just lit up the house. Luckily, Peter’s cake was a success, and once they’d all had some, Loki made everyone a drink, and they went out to the living room. Peter cuddled up beside Thor, who put an arm round him.

“I heard about your accident” he said. “You’re a right little bruiser”

“Don’t encourage him” Loki said, leaning against Tony and opening his book.

Thor just laughed. He gave Peter a squeeze.

“Sorry I didn’t get to see you sooner. I was away”

“In space?”

Thor nodded. “Still, I’m back now. I haven’t seen you properly for ages. We should go and do something together. How about tomorrow night?”

“No can do” Tony said. “We’ve got something planned”

“Aww, I don’t want to go to that dumb party anyway” Peter pouted.

“That’s just tough” Tony said. “You’re going”

Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s such a waste of time”

“Better do as your parents say, kiddo” Thor said. “We’ll do something another time”

-

Peter played up to the sympathy vote as much as possible the next evening, whining and clutching his ribs and looking at his parents with big sad eyes.

“Now you stop that” Tony said. “You’re not getting out of this so easily”

“I nearly died! I’m not strong enough for this”

“Stop play-acting and go and get changed. Your clothes are on the bed”

Peter whined, but he knew when he was beat. He went off to his room, wrinkling his nose at the clothes that had been set out for him. He hated having to dress up all posh and tell people over and over again that he goes to St Hendricks and he’s on the swim team, and no, Mr Stark isn’t his biological dad, but that doesn’t mean he’s not his real dad. It was all so tedious.

-

Peter glared at his shiny black brogues as he sat in the back of the car. He was annoyed, because these shoes always reminded him of Roddy St. James of Kensington, and now he had the song stuck in his head. He wanted to be at home. He looked at Loki and Tony. Loki hated these parties too, unless he could spend them getting drunk with Pepper. Tony seemed to enjoy some of them. Peter sighed heavily and slumped in his seat.

“Sit up straight, Peter: you’ll wrinkle your shirt”

Peter whined but did as he was told. “Why am I even going? I hate this things”

“Don’t be so melodramatic” Tony said. “There’ll be some people your own age for you to hang out with”

“No there won’t. There never is, and even when there is, it’s all toffee nosed twats from the same school who just stick in a little group talking about what fwightfully good fun they’re having”

Loki laughed, but Tony tutted at him.

“Now now, don’t be so rude. I don’t like you swearing like that. I want you on your best behaviour tonight”

“What do you mean?” Peter said, trying to think if he’d done anything naughty at any other party he’d been to.

“I mean, I want you to act like a little gent. Be polite, don’t go running about causing mischief or breaking things or spilling stuff-”

“When do I ever do any of those things?”

“And certainly no interrupting or talking back, young man” Tony said. “Look, this place is basically a palace, and they’re pretty proud of it. I don’t want to have to be apologising for your behaviour”

“Oh Tony, leave him alone” Loki said. “He’ll be fine. He’ll probably just sit in a corner with me and die of boredom”

“Good idea, you keep him with you all night. I won’t have another hospital trip, thank you very much”

Peter rolled his eyes - and then stared as the house came into sight. It really was a palace, like something out of an old Victorian film. He suddenly understood what Tony meant. 

-

Peter looked up at the grand building, at it’s wide steps and turrets and stone statues. It was really something. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad: he could just wander off and explore the architecture.

“Oh my god, Peter!”

Peter looked round, and very nearly tripped over his highly polished feet. His eyes widened. His heart started to thump, and he felt sick. He couldn’t speak. Loki put a hand on the small of his back.

“It helps if you walk, Peter” he hissed, pushing him along. 

Peter looked up at Loki, stumbling as they went inside. He knew he should have fought harder to stay home.

-

Peter flinched as Tony clicked his fingers in front of his face.

“Earth to Peter. Come on kiddo; say hello now”

Peter looked at Tony, and then up at the host. He was a big man, tall and broad, and old, with a heavy white moustache and stern-looking eyes. He looked every bit as Victorian as his house. Unintentionally, Peter made eye contact - and promptly buried his face in Loki’s side. Fortunately, Tony and the host just laughed.

“Now now, no need to be so shy” he laughed. “He certainly didn’t inherit your confidence, did he, Tony?”

Peter shifted slightly, watching the grown ups talking. The host soon looked back at him.

“So where do you go to school, Peter?”

Peter didn’t say anything. Tony sighed, but Loki gave him a reassuring squeeze.

“He goes to St Hendricks” Tony answered for him. “He’s a smart kid, good grades all round, part of the swim team, all that stuff”

“So you’re sporty, are you?”

Peter kept quiet. 

“Shy little thing, aren’t you?” 

He stopped a nearby server, taking two champagne glasses and handing them to Tony and Loki. He picked up another one and went to give it to Peter, but Tony stopped him.

“Not for him, please: he’s just a baby” he said. 

The Host nodded and kept that glass for himself. 

“Of course, of course. Mustn’t corrupt the youth” he laughed to himself, stopped another server, and passed a glass to Peter. “There you go, sonny”

Peter didn’t want a drink, but he took the glass anyway. He had no idea what it was. He stayed close against Loki until mercifully the host went off, and Tony was collared by someone else. 

“Thank fuck for that” Loki mumbled. “What’s the matter with you? Tired?”

Peter shrugged, taking a swig of the unidentified substance in his glass, and promptly choking, dribbling a good half of his mouthful down his chin.

“Oh for the love of-” Loki sighed heavily, thumping him on the back and whipping out a handkerchief. “What are you like, eh?”

Peter wriggled away from him, not appreciating being babied in public. Loki held him still and mopped him up anyway. Once he’d done, Peter shoved his glass at Loki. Loki sighed, and took a sip obligingly. 

“Oh, that’s disgusting” he said, wrinkling his nose. “No wonder you choked”

He put the glass on the tray of a passing server and had some of his own drink to wash the taste away. 

“What are you looking at?” he said, waving a hand in front of Peter’s face. “You’re all zoned out”

Peter didn’t say anything, and then squeaked when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun round quickly.

“Hi again”

Peter looked back over his shoulder, only to find that Loki had already disappeared.

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

“Well, what are you doing here?”

“Um. My parents made me come” Peter said, swallowing hard. 

“I would have texted if I’d known you were going to be here” Liz said. “I got your number from Ned. I’m not sure if it’s the right one or not”

Peter just looked at her. 

“I don’t really know anyone else here, and my mum is with her friends” Liz said. “Do you want to hang out together?”

‘No’, Peter wanted to say. He wanted to shake his head and go and find Loki and hide under his arm until it was time to go home. But he knew how that would look, and he didn’t want to be nasty.

“C-can we go outside? It’s getting real hot in here”

-

The big white marble steps at the front entrance seemed an obvious choice as somewhere to sit, but Peter feared any late arrivals would pop up and disturb them. He didn’t really want to see anyone else. He didn’t look at Liz while they walked outside, but he couldn’t ignore the sound of her heels clacking on the stone. At the edge of the staircase was a stone banister, and as he peered over the side he saw it dropped down quite a way, onto a relatively concealed grass bank, and a little further on, there was an outdoor swimming pool. It definitely wasn’t in view from the windows of the room being used for the social, so he thought it was a safe place to hide out for a while. If this conversation with Liz was going to happen, he wanted it to be done in total privacy. 

“We should go down here” he said, and vaulted the banister. 

Liz wasn’t quite so adept, especially not in her dress and heels, so it took her a little longer. Peter offered a hand to help her down the other side, but quickly retracted it when she was steady on her feet again. They sat down on the grass, and stayed silent for a moment or two.

“I know you and Ned don’t talk anymore” Liz said. “I know you didn’t keep in touch with anyone else from Midtown. If the Stark’s weren’t famous, no one would even know where you’d ended up”

“Midtown doesn’t matter anymore. It hasn’t mattered for a long time. It barely even mattered even when it was my school”

“It’s just so strange thinking you just disappeared. When I left Midtown-”

“Yeah, you kept in touch with all your friends. So what? We left under different circumstances” Peter stood up, taking a deep breath and leaning back against the wall. “Your dad went to prison. The building I lived in exploded. My aunt died. If I hadn’t known the Stark’s, I don’t know what would have happened to me after that. Well, I do know: I would’ve been shoved into foster care in just the clothes I was stood up in. You know I’ve even got a social worker now? And a therapist, and I never wanted one of those either. My parents kinda had to force me into it. They don’t really know what that explosion was like. Do you know how long I spent blaming myself? Thinking that if I’d stayed where I was I could’ve saved her, cos if I survived, she should have as well? And, you know, I’ve ended up in A&E a few times since, and you know what the worst part is, what’s worse than the injuries? Being in that department just reminds me of hours sat in cubicles with this throbbing pain in my head, grabbing every member of hospital staff and begging them to find May... So I got taken in, and then I couldn’t keep going to Midtown, so I got sent to some other school, and there was this boy, and basically the whole year, but this one boy in particular, and it was just” he laughed awkwardly. “Flash thinks he’s a bully, and he doesn’t have a clue. He was always a twat, but he was nothing, he really wasn’t. But this guy and his friends... So they found out how much they were hurting me eventually, and then they took me out of that school, and then da- uh, and then Loki left, and then I ended up at St Hendricks, and Loki came back, and it was fine, yknow. I’ve got friends and I get good grades and I’m on the swim team and like, it’s better, yknow. It’s good. So sure, maybe at first it was because I was ill, but why now, when I’ve rebuilt my life, which is arguably better than my last one, would I want to talk to anyone from Midtown? No one ever really liked me there. So everyone’s like, oh, Peter never kept in touch, but what effort did any of them make to keep in touch with me? They didn’t care. And now neither do I. I don’t want anything to do with them anymore. They can’t offer me anything now that would make my life any better. So I don’t really know what you want with me, Liz, because we weren’t really friends back then either. We ran in different crowds, we had different lives. And now, well, if you want something, just lay it down, but whatever you think you want, you can’t have. I’ve changed so many times since you moved. I’m nothing of the person you once knew”

For a moment Liz just looked at him. She couldn’t remember ever hearing him speak so much in one go before. She stood up, and Peter looked at her - nervously, she thought. He was breathing heavily, as though he’d been running.

She stood in front of him, and she hugged him close.

*

[hannahberrie]

Snowbound (part 1/2)

Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing: Eleven, Mike Wheeler Characters: Jim Hopper Rating: K WC: 2717 Summary: When El invites Mike to spend the day at the cabin, Hopper finds himself supervising a sleepover he didn't sign up for. Two-shot.

[Part 2] [AO3]

[A/N]: So, I'm pretty sure that canonically, Hopper's cabin only has one bedroom. Through the power of fanfiction and not-caring-that-much, let's just say that for the sake of this story, there's two.

In a rare change of pace, Hopper was on leave from work today. Flo would call him if any emergencies popped up, but that seemed unlikely. Besides, after the events of the last two autumns, every other Hawkins ‘emergency’ seemed pretty minuscule in comparison.

Hopper’s plans for the day: sleeping in, a couple beers, some light reading, coffee and contemplation.

El’s plans for his day: not that.

It was early January, which meant that Mike was still on winter break from school. Naturally, Eleven was looking for every possible chance to spend time with him.

Hopper quickly learned that his day wasn’t going to go as planned when he awoke to El shaking him out of bed.

“Wake up!” She said eagerly, ignoring his confused grunts and cries of protest.

“Jesus, kid!” Hopper exclaimed, grumpily rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “What’s going on?!”

“I wanna see Mike!” El pleaded, “He goes back to school soon!”

“I can drop you off at his house, then,” Hopper grumbled, turning to roll back into bed.

“But I want him to come here!” She explained, tugging on his shoulder so that he was facing her again.

Hopper sighed and eyed her warily. “Why?”

“He’s never been here.”

“Because there’s not much here,” Hopper snorted.

“We have the TV!” El insisted. “And Eggos!”

“So, you just want to watch TV and eat waffles all day with him?”

“Yes!”

“I don’t think you two should be on your own out here,” Hopper said carefully. “It’s not really...”

His brow furrowed as he tried to think of the right word. Appropriate? Safe? Responsible? Considering that Hopper would rarely use those words to describe his own actions, none of them seemed to fit.

“A good idea,” he finally settled on. “You should have some kind of supervision.”

Supervision, i.e., making sure that his daughter’s boyfriend wasn’t up to no good. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mike, per say. The kid had certainly proven himself to be valiant on more than one occasion.

Regardless, that still didn’t change the fact that Mike was only 13, and Hopper just didn’t trust teenage boys, like, at all.

When Hopper had been around Mike’s age, his mother was completely convinced that Hopper was on the debate team (he wasn’t). And if Mike so much as thought of pulling any of the same moves that Hopper had with Chrissy Carpenter back in the day...

In short, Hopper just wanted to take precautions. Precaution #1: Not letting a hormonal teenage boy spend the day alone in a secluded cabin with his daughter. Granted, he had the day off today, but El didn’t know that. Spending the day babysitting a pair of teenagers was not exactly what Hopper had in mind for his rare vacation day.

“But you don’t work today!” El reminded him. “You could go get him and then stay here! We wouldn’t be alone!”

Dammit. “Who told you I had the day off?” Hopper grumbled.

“Will heard you tell his mama so Will told Mike and Mike told me!”

“Will heard me talking to Joyce?”

“Yes! On the phone,” El explained, exasperated, “Will says you two always talk.”

Hopper wasn’t much of a blusher, but he felt his cheeks flare up at that. “Not a lot,” he mumbled, rubbing his jaw. “Just sometimes.”

El disregarded this. “So, can you bring him?” She pleaded instead, “Please?”

“I dunno, kid…”

“Please!” She whimpered, pouted her lower lip, batted her doe-eyes, and with that, Hopper knew that he was done for. Resistance, at this point, was futile. El, as she often did, had won him over.

“Fine,” Hopper sighed, “Just let me —“

But by the time Hopper said, “Fine,” El had already run out the door. “ThankYouSoMuch!” She exclaimed in one breath, calling out to him from the living room. He could hear her dialing the phone, no doubt to let Mike know the good news.

One of these days, she wasn’t going to win him over so easily.

Today wasn’t that day, evidently, as around an hour later, Hopper found himself driving Mike back to the cabin with him.

Per Dr. Owens’ orders, El was still to be kept in hiding for the rest of the year, which meant that organizing time for Mike and El to be together had to be handled with care. Ted and Karen knew about El, she’d spent plenty of afternoons at the Wheeler home, after all...

...Hopper just usually left out the part about her being telekinetic, a government experiment, or a Russian spy (not that the last one was ever true to begin with, but he digressed).

“Your parents know what you’re up to?” Hopper asked Mike, though, in the back of his mind, he realized this was probably something he should have asked before picking the kid up.

“Kinda,” Mike replied unconvincingly. “I told them I was going to go hang out with my friends. Dustin said he’d cover for me. My parents don’t really care what I do anyways, so it’s not a big deal.”

“I’m sure they care,” Hopper offered.

Mike just shrugged, looked down at his feet, and grumbled, “I guess.”

Hopper didn’t like the sound of that, but didn’t press the issue further. He wasn’t much for small talk, and trying to make one-on-one conversation with the boy currently dating your daughter was a little awkward, to say the least.

Thankfully, the drive didn’t take long. The morning was still young when Hopper stopped the car on the side road closest to the cabin. The air was brisk and bitingly-cold, and the sky was blanketed with a thick layer of dark grey clouds. It’d snowed heavily the night before, which left calve-deep snowdrifts throughout the forest.

“Watch your step,” Hopper instructed as the two exited his cruiser.

Mike nodded appreciatively. “Thanks again for the ride,” he said as the two began the short walk to the cabin.

“Don’t mention it,” Hopper said, “Was I supposed to let you bike here?”

“I could have!”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, I could do it!” Mike bolstered. “It’s not that far!”

“It’s a good 20-minute drive, maybe 25.”

“I’ve biked to the quarry before, that’s like, just as far away, basically.”

“Impressive.”

The forest was stunningly still as they walked. The only sound to be heard for miles around was the crush of snow beneath their boots, the distance drum of a woodpecker drilling into a tree, and the occasional brush of dead branches against their coats.

Despite his heavy snow boots, bulky winter coat, pom-pom adorned hat, and knitted wool mittens, Mike’s cheeks were getting pink. It was probably from the cold, or maybe the exertion of trudging through all the deep snow. The latter seemed more likely, as he seemed intent on keeping up with Hopper. With every step Hopper took, Mike strained his legs to match his pace. As Hopper was obviously much taller and leaner, the kid was nearly lunging through the snow to keep up with him.

Mike didn’t have to try so hard to impress him, if that’s what was going on here. Hopper would be lying if he said that it wasn’t slightly amusing though.

As Mike lunged about, Hopper became increasingly aware of the rattling sounds coming out of his bulging backpack.

“Whatcha got in the bag there?” Hopper asked conversationally, trying to keep his demeanor as least snoop-like as possible.

“Just some movies, board games, comic books, and stuff,” Mike replied, “You know, in case we get bored or anything. I brought Monopoly! It’s kinda lame, but you could play with us, if you want.”

Hopper gave him a polite smile. “That’s okay, kid. I’m sure El has a whole agenda planned for you two, anyway.”

Mike brightened at the mention of El’s name. “Probably, she’s like super good with that kind of stuff,” he gushed, “I’m trying to teach her how to make her own D&D campaigns. We’re just starting off with basic a basic dungeon crawl, then we’re gonna work our way up to intrigue adventures.”

“That’s nice,” Hopper replied, not understanding any of what Mike had just said.

Not much later, the two finally reached the secluded cabin. Hopper couldn’t help but notice the flash of the curtain rustling behind the front window. No doubt El had been waiting there on standby ever since Hopper had left. The thought made him smile in an endearing sort of way.

“Here we are,” Hopper announced, causing Mike to grin excitedly. The pair mounted the front steps, approached the cabin door, and stomped the extra snow off their boots. Hopper gave a cautionary glance around the forest before giving his secret knock.

Within seconds (milliseconds, really), El had undone every lock and swung the door wide open. “Hi!” She burst out eagerly, eyes locked on Mike.

“El!” Mike exclaimed. He stepped forward quickly, pulling her into his arms in a big hug. “I missed you!”

“I missed you too!” El responded, squeezing him tightly.

The last time they’d seen each other was Saturday.

Today was Monday.  

Hopper had to bite his tongue to keep himself from pointing this out to them.

“You’re cold!” El commented, pulling back from Mike to examine his face.

Mike’s face flushed even redder as El moved her hands up to cup his cheeks. “I’m fine!” He insisted, “My mom made me wear a billion sweaters.”

El gave him a doubtful look. “Mike. You’re cold.”

Hopper, who’d seemingly been invisible to them for the past couple moments, cleared his throat.

“I think we’re both pretty cold, so let’s all get inside,” Hopper cut in, placing a hand on Mike’s shoulder. “We’re gonna freeze to death out here.”

“Yes, come in!” El said eagerly. She took Mike by his mittened hand and pulled him into the cabin. Hopper entered behind them, listening as they chattered away. The kids headed over to the living room (living area, really), as he hung up his coat and made his way to the kitchen. Even though he hadn’t gotten to sleep in, there was still plenty of time for coffee.

As he started to brew a pot of coffee, El quietly approached him.

“Papa,” she whispered, glancing back at the living room, where Mike was in the midst of removing his various layers of outerwear.

“Yes?” Hopper said bemusedly. He already had a pretty good feeling as to where this was going.

“Can you go to your room?” She asked in an odd mixture of both politeness and forcefulness.

“Yeah, I don’t think so, kid.”

“Why?”

“Where should I put this stuff?” Mike called out, holding up the mass of knitted wool that was his hat, scarf, mittens, and a couple sweaters.

“Anywhere!” Hopper and El chimed back before returning to their own conversation.

“We had a deal, remember?” Hopper reminded her. The coffee pot finished brewing, so he grabbed a spare mug to fill. “Supervision? Remember that?”

“You can supervise,” El said, “From your room. You can hear.”

“Why all the privacy?” Hopper looked her in the eye as he took a sip of his coffee. “I thought that you were gonna do is just watch TV and eat waffles.”

El’s face flushed pink. “Yes. but…”

“No buts,” Hopper smirked as he ruffled her hair, ignoring her narrowed eyes and frustrated pout. He grabbed the latest morning paper and moved to sit at the dining table, well within view of the living area. “I think I’m going to be comfortable right here,” he said, taking another sip of coffee.

El looked exasperated but defeated. He heard her grumble under her breath as she returned to Mike, who had settled on stacking all his items in a makeshift pile in the corner.

Hopper could tell that El wasn’t thrilled with the whole situation (she kept giving him looks from the living room), but she got over it soon enough. Before long, she and Mike were back to conversing with ease, their soft chatter serving as a kind of white noise buffer for Hopper.

Even though it was his day off, Hopper found that reading the newspaper led to a slippery slope of events; reading made him think about the latest cases, thinking about the latest cases made him frustrated that he hadn’t made any new leads lately, and being frustrated that he hadn’t made any new leads lately made him dust off a few cold case files that he kept lying around the cabin and get to work.

What could he say? Old habits died hard. Besides, it gave him something to do while he supervised the kids, and was a far more challenging puzzle to solve than the crosswords in The Hawkins Post.

While Hopper absentmindedly scrounged over case files, Mike and El crafted a makeshift fort out of couch cushions, one of the dining chairs, and the sheets from El’s bed. They spent most of the rest of the day inside there, goofing off and joking around.

As…eventful as this morning had been, Hopper had to admit that it was good to hear El laughing and having a good time. After everything that she’d gone through growing up, some basic happiness was the least of what she deserved.

The kids spent their day TV (El introduced him to her favorite soap opera: All My Children, to which Mike replied, “This is kinda cheesy,” but continued watching anyway), playing board games (Hopper had never heard the two bicker until El refused to pay Mike after landing on his Boardwalk hotel, stating that she “didn’t want to,” to which Mike replied, “You have to,” to which El exclaimed, “I hate this dumb game”), and snacking (after the Monopoly incident, Hopper directed Mike to the secret Eggo stash — after El was presented with a stack of candy-covered waffles courtesy of Mike Wheeler, the two exchanged earnest apologies and all was forgiven).

The day flew by faster than Hopper had expected and before long, it was evening: time to take Mike back home. “We better head out,” Hopper announced, setting down his files and rubbing at his temples. His brain hurt from staring at so much information and getting nowhere for so long. He felt like he’d blinked and watched the day disappear, and if it wasn’t for his watch reading 6 PM, he wouldn’t have believed that much time had passed at all.

El gave a small whine from inside the fort, but the two kids emerged, looking quite glum. Mike started gathering his things together as El reluctantly helped. Hopper grabbed his coat and keys as he moved to stand by the front door. He sincerely hoped that the drive back wouldn’t be too bad — at night, the wet snow froze the roads into ice, which made trying to drive over it absolute hell. He was going to have to take it slow, avoid side roads…

“Do you have to go?” El asked. The two had finished getting Mike’s things together, and she was now in the midst of giving Mike a goodbye hug.

“I don’t want to,” Mike mumbled back, his face buried in her ever-growing curly hair.

“You two can see each other this weekend, or something,” Hopper reminded them, checking his watch.

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Mike assured Eleven, pulling back to smile at her.

“Okay!” El beamed back. She rose on tip-toe and kissed the corner of his mouth, causing Mike to smile bashfully.

Their eyes met then, and Hopper couldn’t help but notice the familiar heart-eyed look that El had been sporting lately, the way that Mike was now slowly moving in, and how obviously obvious it was where this was all headed.

Hopper decided to cut things off by clearing his throat. “You ready to head out, Mike?” He asked as the two flinched apart.

“Uh, yeah!” Mike responded, flushing red. He quickly put on his winter layers, grabbed his backpack, and gave El one last goodbye hug before crossing the living room to stand at Hopper’s side. “Sorry,” he mumbled, glancing up at Hopper anxiously.

Hopper just nodded and gave Mike a light pat on the shoulder. Slipping on his winter gloves, he readied himself for the winter chill, opened the front door…

…And instantly realized that outside, all hell had broken loose.

[seenashwrite]

Fic Writer Interview Thingy.

I was tagged by the awesomesauce @waywardjoy who knows I hate chains but also knows that my love for talking about myself [humbly] will win out every damn time. Writers I can think of off the top o’ my head are tagged below [minus Joy, who’s already done it], if y’all wanna throw this in your hopper as a standby post. Good Qs, all!

1. What inspires your work most? (The show it is based on, the actor who portrays a certain character, maybe the character itself? It could even be an experience.)

What appears on screen & the words in the script are the primary sources. Secondary sources would be what the writers/showrunner/actors say in interviews or whatnot. [I say secondary because their intent may’ve been way different, but that doesn’t matter, the end product is what it is.]

2. What is your favorite fandom to write for?

Well, I’ve stuck with SPN for a year of prep time and [as of last month!] a year of writing weekly about it [minus recent zombieitis delay ::sigh::] so we’ll give it the crown. It’s a challenging exercise, writing around someone else’s creation(s) with the goal of accuracy in portrayal/plot integration. I dig it. 

3. Which perspective do you prefer writing in? (First-person, second-person, third-person)

First & third; second works my nerves both to read & to write. 

4. Do you prefer writing reader fics or OCs?

Both, if one considers first-person to be “reader insert”.  I’ve said elsewhere I wish the whole “Y/N” thing should die in a tire fire, it is incredibly distracting. If a reader’s pretending this is them & are willing to accept traits described that aren’t actually, y’know, them, then why not just write in first person? It confuzzles me, though I ain’t dying on that hill. So, if a Nash Tale is written in first-person, y’all go on & mentally insert “Y/N” if that’s what turns your crank. [I will say, major kudos to whomever developed the name replacer add-on, I have had many laughs inputting things like “Smegma” and “Your Mom” on more than one occasion]

5. Do you prefer writing longer works or one shots?

See, now, I think a one-and-done can be a long mammajammer. If this Q means more like drabbles, well.... Those more often than not seem to devolve into longer journeys than I originally intended, but I’m starting to amass a tidy little pile of quickies. 

6. Do you take requests?

Eh. Sure. Depends on the subject matter, though - I’d make a list of stuff I won’t do, but I don’t get enough requests for it to matter. I any event, I’d make no promises for when I’d finish it. For now, I’d prefer to send out the call if I wanted peeps to send ‘em in vs. unsoliciteds. But hell, if it’s a killer idea & you know my style & think I’d do it justice? Bring it on. 

7. Do you enjoy getting random Asks?

---> Dear Nash  <---

8. What inspires the names for OCs (or extra character names) in your works? Do you pick them from real life or just select them at random? A mix?

This required major thinking cap & cooked my noodle... Well, when I do name them; I often don’t. ;)  Honestly, it’s just what fits - does it jibe with the rest of their family’s names? With the setting? The time period? [my hatiest-hate for seeing crazily spelled, “modern” names in families with names like, say, I dunno, Henry and John and Mary and Samuel and Dean and Sam knows no bounds; triple-score if it’s set in the past and they’re named Mickayeluh ::eye roll::] Long story short: yes, I put thought into it, and yes, sometimes I associate it with people I know/am acquainted with/aware of who happen to have things in common with the character. 

9. If your story(ies) have OCs, are their appearances based on real people or celebrities? If so, who?

[Sorry, this tickled me, and I can’t not.... :::whispers:::: Celebrities *are* real people... my assumption is O.P. meant persons writer knows vs. celebs]

In my mind, they may be based in/on celebs, but I don’t wanna trample on reader imagination. I’ve ponied up a couple names/images to peeps off-the-books/off-site regarding Andrew, Mose & Jane in Top of the World, and the midwife & Burt in The Midwife, and the agent in The Lore You Know. I think that’s all. So if ya wanna know, hey, okay, holler & I’ll tell you what’s in my mind’s eye.

Specifically in cases of something that can be reader insert - and I’ve talked about this elsewhere - I make a conscious effort to not pigeonhole the reader so they can actually imagine themselves as the protagonist. If I mention specifics - such as hair length, or height for instance - there’s a reason for the plot or for the character arc as related to the plot. People can/will typically let a couple middle-of-the-road things go & still be able to picture themselves. I don’t describe skin color or eye shape or whatever, because life’s a crayon box & pictures that are drawn in only one hue/range are bone-achingly boring. 

I don’t want/need a cookie for that; it takes minimal effort on my part to execute but gives a maximum enjoyment for persons who aren’t 22-year-old lily white Barbie dolls with flowing blonde hair or buxom brunettes with legs for days, et al, while still allowing the rest to picture themselves without missing out on anything. So, y’know, why wouldn’t I? I try not to waste time describing anything at length that has no bearing on the plot, and that includes character appearance.  /rant

Jane is the most I’ve described, and even then I’m kinda slow-playing it vs. a big ol’ chunk of tips-to-toes details. For her, it’s more about the family members she favors, in both looks & mannerisms, but she’s got plenty of her own quirks.       

10. How long have you been writing fanfiction?

I got roped into writing 2 lil’ “Smallville” things a bazillionty years ago, I actually found them on FFnet awhile back & they aren’t terribly bad, I’m surprised to say. But as far as digging in hardcore? Like I say - R&D started a little over 2 years ago, I think, and last month was the 1 year anniversary of Top of the World. Which was meant to be an exercise for me & a damn gesture for a friend. And was the only thing I planned on writing.  #famous last words

And welp, on that note....

*~* See Nash Write : Master  *~*  See Nash Write : Mobile *~*

@impandagrl  @castielhasthetardis  @jalove-wecallhimdean  @kathaswings   @just-another-busy-fangirl  @amanda-teaches  @fanforfanatic   @idreamofhazel  @itswitchcraft-not-googlemaps  @impala-dreamer @roxy-davenport  @blackcaptainrogers   @carryonmycobaltangel  @klaineaholic  @helvonasche  @zepppie  @littlegreenplasticsoldier  @emilywritesaboutdean  @butiaintgonnaloveem  @wheresthekillswitch  @lipstickandwhiskey   @pinknerdpanda  @hannahindie  @impalaimagining  @katymacsupernatural  @wideawakeandwriting  @mrswhozeewhatsis   @salvachester  @wildlifepixie  @deanssweetheart23  @kittenofdoomage  @chelsea072498  @salvachester  @iwantthedean  @whispersandwhiskerburn  @atc74  @abbessolute  

[survivormontenegro]

Episode 7: “So FUCK You Seamus” - Julia

WE DIDNT GO TO TRIBAL YAAAY. Hopefully this means Tom is safe, I was really worried for him if we had to go twice in a row eek.

Now the plan is vote Evan off this round if we have to, then pray for a merge or a new swap or SOMETHING.

New Goal Bootlist:

13th: Evan

12th: (MERGE) Alex C.

11th: Ian

10th: Jason

9th: Caeleb

8th: Mitch

7th: Jones

6th: Mo

5th: Benj

4th: Julia

F3: Me, Tom & Jules

I really am nervous about Julia. She is SO attached to this og tribe war which I think is so not smart!! Also I know she says it's different but I still think throwing this challenge is exactly what Alex C. did to her so its kinda hypocritical yikes!

I'm also praying for Benj, I really want him to survive and make merge HDJDKDKD.

Ugh i hated voting michael but thank goodness it was him and not me oop. If we lose another challenge i am 100% on the chopping block. As the only other person who voted Caeleb instead of Noah im probably going next. Anywho i keep getting reassured that im safe but frankly im just hoping we can win this challenge and make the tribes even again.

why am I feeling bad for Evan? I feel really sorry for him, like he screwed up his game by leaking stuff to JJ and he is VERY pushy, but like... he means well and like, is being treated like JJ which he doesn't deserve.

I wanna like... try and throw him a lifeline, but I don't trust him to either leak stuff or cause problems eek. I'm feeling really worried about Jason & Julia, like I was horrible to JJ in my confessionals which YIKES I FEEL REALLY BAD ABOUT STILL EVEN THOUGH HE ANNOYED ME, but like... I feel like Jason/Ian as a pair and Julia as her confrontational self might be problems in a merge? I think they are a definite sinking ship and one I need to seperate myself from EEK.

I standby that Ian remains a major threat by the way, I've known it since round two, and when I have my chance? I will strike

in other news... I wanna do a eulogy for Michael. Our robbed budva siri brother!

it means I'm the last remaining tumblr survivor newbie from my original tribe which WHEW! Me, Jules, Caeleb and Evan are the only tumblr survivor newbies left in the whole game so we will have to figure that one out.

I think the way I see merge going is Alex C. or someone from the other side being like the merge boot and then it turns on Ian/Jason/Julia. And I will be apart of it, like I'll try and protect Julia, but Ian/Jason are obviously major threats and I have no opposition to them being separated.

This challenge is mcfreaking hard and whew I’m 100% throwing this challenge so we can send Evan out. We managed to win the previous immunity by just a 29 point difference that the hosts claimed that our tribe pulled ahead of in the last minute? Wow me, Ali and Tom did that. And now Michael is gone and I’m fairly confident either Mitch or Benj have the Budva idol. Well if we merge I can possibly rekindle my connection with them? I did talk with almost everyone on OG Budva. Well assuming Mitch still trusts me and he didn’t found out that I was really gonna send him home before Jared went crazy oop

Evan then like gave us this ultimatum. Saying he will not sit out and he will give his all for the challenge. He also added he will be a number for any of us for merge?? I mean that could be just a ploy or not but the point is I don’t trust him! Heck, I’m not comfortable at all talking to him because he’s so direct and likes to pressure you for information. In any case, I’ll do the bare minimum for this challenge. But as for as all 6 of us are concerned if we don’t win immunity Evan’s going. Hopefully!

so um im trying to work with alex on this puzzle but i cant comprehend anything lol. He is talking complete gibberish to me

this game has cracked so many ppl i cant even explain. first madeleine, than jared, than jj, now evan LOL i cant

THE most stressful thing I've ever done was count to 1000. Like LOW FUCKIN KEY that shit had my insides TURNING. I'm proud I made it happen tho.

The idol wasn't there went I made it across the bridge, sad face. First thought was that it was Alex. It's crazy then to think that its one of the other three in OG Durmitor and I haven't caught wind of it yet. hMMMhmMHmm. But also I think that makes these next couple of tribals kinda interesting because if I want to do any real scheming I gotta be REAL nervous about whom I am talking to.

I don’t get why my conscience is screaming at me rn. Probably because I’m still trying to throw this challenge even tho I feel kinda bad about it >.>

If i dont win this challenge im actually dead lol but its ok!!! People wanted me gone from the beginning and it is no shocker that they would want me gone now. Anywhooo so this challenge is like IMPOSSIBLE so ya like rip me :(. Im trying to be productive but all im hearing is crickets.

okay so julia has BECOME WOKE AND WE ARE BACK ON THE JULIA APPRECIATION TRAIN!!

she is FINALLY, FINALLY onto that Ian/Jason are a dangerous duo, which makes me SOOOOO HAPPY going to merge, because I really didn't want to turn on her eek. The dream of a final five of me, Benj, Julia, Jules and Tom is back ON! its happening, I am fully, fully speaking it into existence.

Tonight, the vote will... presumably be Evan again? He just burned so many bridges in leaking to JJ and fighting everyone? I feel like he will just flip away if we try and work anything, it'll be fully FULLY a mess EEEEK.

in other, other news, I miss Benj! Like I'm at this point really loving working with Jules, Tom and Julia, but Benj I MISS HIM! he was my OG sane ally, and I haven't spoken to him in ages, he flipped on Budva and I'm so proud of him KSADFLASF.

Also, I legitimately left my tribe alone for ONE DAY to submit for ONE CHALLENGE, and we borderline don't submit? Like what is this? This is just mess and I'm so ready to swap out. I was also drunk messaging people and I forwarded a message in the tribe chat yesterday which was dumb, about Julia scalping me if I dont throw and I'm SURE somebody saw it. And I accidentally Cortana messaged too, something about 'its all good' that we didn't submit. THIS IS SUCH A MESS.

So... time to just make sure I didn't make a mess and keep an eye AHH. The summary: Julia is woke, Tom saw my drunk cortana messaging, Jules is a legend as always, Benj I miss him, Ian/Jason I'm coming for you, Alex C./Jones/Mo/Caeleb, see you on the other side, Benj I miss you and MITCH YOU TERRIFY ME. and Evan? I love you but its your time (or its mine, we will see JKLADSFA)

This isn't in reference to game Jason I just wanted to talk ab falsettos

It might be my last round but im hoping this blindside pays off. I know im getting MORE votes tonight (surprise surprise) but im hoping alex and jones pull through. They both came up with the idea so i would be bitter if it didnt work. MY only worry is that i havent spoken to alex about the vote at alll im just using blind trust

[4wordletter]

last week my goals were:

send @say-never‘s box.

i didn’t achieve this one. i’d left it until saturday and one of the items wasn’t suitable for shipping. i’ll have to replace it with something just as cool and ship it this week.

fix my laptop, it’s so slow.

i tend to leave my laptop for months at a time in standby mode without restarting it. after restarting it feels a lot faster. 

keep my room and work area clean and tidy

i did a lot of cleaning today but i still have little piles of random things that i’m not sure what i wanna do with.

move cheddar to his new tank

i didn’t do this. i cleaned out his current tank though.

investigate different todo list apps

i settled on todoist. it’s now the first thing i see when i look at my home screen. i can keep myself super organized now.

finish the AWS cloud practitioner training

i don’t think i looked at any AWS training this week. still have a lot of work to do with it.

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

my goals for this week are:

send @say-never‘s box.

i’ll be able to send this on tuesday.

keep my room and work area clean and tidy

gotta keep up with this. i find sundays are great for cleaning up and starting fresh for the new week. i need to get rid of the little piles of random crap. i need to go through my book collection and sell the ones i don’t wanna keep. i also need to clear out under my bed so

clean out under my bed

this should be a goal too i guess. there’s just a bunch more books under there really but it would be good to clear it out, sell junk i don’t want, and vacuum the carpet.

move cheddar to his new tank

although i do like his current tank cuz i get to see him a lot, his new tank is much bigger and that’s what he needs. i’ll probably never see him again cuz there are so many plants and things to hide behind, but that’s what he likes to do.

complete the first 3 modules of the AWS cloud practitioner training

i got a new notepad from paperchase last week just for AWS notes. last week’s goal of completing all the modules was a bit much, so this week’s goal is to finish the first 3, taking notes as i go.

let go of more things at work

i have really high standards for code and for “best practices” at work. i feel i accumulate a lot of stress through this because i try to encourage others to hold the same standard. 

most of the time i can talk others round to embracing higher standards, but it comes at a high price. i don’t want to argue back and forth with anyone, whether i’m right or not. it saps my energy. instead, i think it’s best that i leave people to their own devices. i can hold myself to a high standard, but that’s an individual choice. if and when i own my own company, then i can enforce standards more easily. but as a developer trying to influence other developers, some who have been at the company longer than i have? that’s too much work.

we had a case during the week where one of our services used an IP whitelist to accept/deny service to clients. if their IP isn’t in the whitelist, service is denied. in this particular case the client always has an IP that is from an amazon computer network. the amazon network is constantly in flux, adding and removing IPs as computers on the network come and go. despite that, the developer had made a hard-coded whitelist of these IPs a few months back. 

the very idea of this sent alarm bells ringing in my head. one set of things is dynamic, always changing. the other is static, hard-coded. they don’t match up, the solution is no good. of course, this is the solution they went with.

this week we got a ton of client emails saying that service was being denied. we had to do a ton of debugging to see why this was. no one remembered the whitelist and the guy that implemented it was on holiday. we’re chasing our tails trying to figure out what was happening. worse, we told the client to check their configuration. 

of course, new IPs had been added to the amazon network that weren’t in the whitelist. we had to add them (perpetuating the problem!!!) and redeploy the servers. then go groveling to the client, full of apologies.

i think this is how people learn things. in this case the client was denied service for 2 weeks. hopefully after this, the developer will think okay, maybe i do need to work on my standards and do things the right way. i can kinda step back a bit, because if what they’re doing is really that bad, they’ll find out about it sooner or later.

run more

i went running yesterday for the first time in a while. it was really good although i definitely pushed myself too hard. i was trying to match the pace and distance that i could maintain previously. i’m paying for that today. the upshot is that i need to run maybe 3 or 4 times a week and get my stamina back to where it should be.