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chrisevansluv · 3 years ago

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Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

The 30-year-old Bud Light-chugging, Beantown-bred star of The Avengers is widely perceived as the ultimate guy's guy. But beneath the bro persona lies a serious student of Buddhism, an unrepentant song-and-dance man, and a guy who talks to his mom about sex. And farts.

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

We're at Evans' apartment, an expansive but not overly tricked-out bachelor-pad-ish loft in a semi-industrial nowheresville part of Boston, hard by Chinatown, near an area sometimes called the Combat Zone. Evans has a fuzzy, floppy, slept-in-his-clothes aspect that'd be nearly unrecognizable if you knew him only by the upright, spit-polished bearing of the onscreen hero. His dog, East, a sweet and slobbery American bulldog, is spread out on a couch in front of the TV. The shelves of his fridge are neatly stacked with much of the world's supply of Bud Light in cans and little else.

On the counter sit a few buckets of muscle-making whey-protein powder that belong to Evans' roommate, Zach Jarvis, an old pal who sometimes tags along on set as a paid "assistant" and a personal trainer who bulked Evans up for his role as the super-ripped patriot in last summer's blockbuster Captain America: The First Avenger. A giant clock on the exposed-brick wall says it's early evening, but Evans operates on his own sense of time. Between gigs, his schedule's all his, which usually translates into long stretches of alone time during the day and longer social nights for the 30-year-old.

"I could just make this . . . disappear," says Josh Peck, another old pal and occasional on-set assistant, in a deadpan mumble, poking at the voice recorder I'd left on the table while I was in the bathroom.

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

But not saying things isn't in the Evans DNA. They're an infectiously gregarious clan. Irish-Italians, proud Bostoners, close-knit, and innately theatrical. "We all act, we sing," Evans says. "It was like the fucking von Trapps." Mom was a dancer and now runs a children's theater. First-born Carly directed the family puppet shows and studied theater at NYU. Younger brother Scott has parts on One Life to Live and Law & Order under his belt and lives in Los Angeles full-time—something Evans stopped doing several years back. Rounding out the circle are baby sister Shanna and a pair of "strays" the family brought into their Sudbury, Massachusetts, home: Josh, who went from mowing the lawn to moving in when his folks relocated during his senior year in high school; and Demery, who was Evans' roommate until recently.

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Growing up, they had a special floor put in the basement where all the kids practiced tap-dancing. The party-ready rec room also had a Ping-Pong table and a separate entrance. This was the house kids in the neighborhood wanted to hang at, and this was the kind of family you wanted to be adopted by. Spend an afternoon listening to them dish old dirt and talk over each other and it's easy to see why. Now they're worried they've said too much, laid bare the tender soul of the actor behind the star-spangled superhero outfit, so there's talk of offing the interviewer. I can hear all this from the bathroom, which, of course, is the point of a good stage whisper.

To be sure, no one's said too much, and the more you're brought into the embrace of this boisterous, funny, shit-slinging, demonstrably loving extended family, the more likable and enviable the whole dynamic is.

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

We're operating under a no-names rule, so I'm not asking if it's Jessica Biel who made this memorable first impression. She and Evans were serious for a couple of years. But I don't want to picture lovely Jessica Biel getting sick at Auntie Pam's or in the car or, really, anywhere.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

"That dog is the love of his life," Mrs. Evans says. "Which tells me he'll be an unbelievable parent, but I don't want him to get married right now." She turns to Chris. "The way you are, I just don't think you're ready."

Some other things I learn about Evans from his mom: He hates going to the gym; he was so wound-up as a kid she'd let him stand during dinner, his legs shaking like caged greyhounds; he suffered weekly "Sunday-night meltdowns" over schoolwork and the angst of the sensitive middle-schooler; after she and his father split and he was making money from acting, he bought her the Sudbury family homestead rather than let her leave it.

Eventually his mom and Josh depart, and Evans and I go to work depleting his stash of Bud Light. It feels like we drink Bud Light and talk for days, because we basically do. I arrived early Friday evening; it's Saturday night now and it'll be sunup Sunday before I sleeplessly make my way to catch a train back to New York City. Somewhere in between we slip free of the gravitational pull of the bachelor pad and there's bottle service at a club and a long walk with entourage in tow back to Evans' apartment, where there is some earnest-yet-surreal group singing, piano playing, and chitchat. Evans is fun to talk to, partly because he's an open, self-mocking guy with an explosive laugh and no apparent need to sleep, and partly because when you cut just below the surface, it's clear he's not quite the dude's dude he sometimes plays onscreen and in TV appearances.

From a distance, Chris Evans the movie star seems a predictable, nearly inevitable piece of successful Hollywood packaging come to market. There's his major-release debut as the dorkily unaware jock Jake in the guilty pleasure Not Another Teen Movie (in one memorable scene, Evans has whipped cream on his chest and a banana up his ass). The female-friendly hunk appeal—his character in The Nanny Diaries is named simply Harvard Hottie—is balanced by a kind of casual-Friday, I'm-from-Boston regular-dudeness. Following the siren song of comic-book cash, he was the Human Torch in two Fantastic Four films. As with scrawny Steve Rogers, the Captain America suit beefed up his stature as a formidable screen presence, a bankable leading man, all of which leads us to The Avengers, this season's megabudget, megawatt ensemble in which he stars alongside Scarlett Johansson, Mark Ruffalo, Robert Downey Jr., and Chris Hemsworth.

It all feels inevitable—and yet it nearly didn't happen. Evans repeatedly turned down the Captain America role, fearing he'd be locked into what was originally a nine-picture deal. He was shooting Puncture, about a drug-addicted lawyer, at the time. Most actors doing small-budget legal dramas would jump at the chance to play the lead in a Marvel franchise, but Evans saw a decade of his life flash before his eyes.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

By "the woods," he doesn't mean a quiet life away from the spotlight, some general metaphorical life escape route. He means the actual woods. "For a long time all I wanted for Christmas were books about outdoor survival," he says. "I was convinced that I was going to move to the woods. I camped a lot, I took classes. At 18, I told myself if I don't live in the woods by the time I'm 25, I have failed."

Evans has described his hesitation at signing on for Captain America. Usually he talks about the time commitment, the loss of what remained of his relative anonymity. On the junkets for the movie, he was open about needing therapy after the studio reduced the deal to six movies and he took the leap. What he doesn't usually mention is that he was racked with anxiety before the job came up.

"I get very nervous," Evans explains. "I shit the bed if I have to present something on stage or if I'm doing press. Because it's just you." He's been known to walk out of press conferences, to freeze up and go silent during the kind of relaxed-yet-high-stakes meetings an actor of his stature is expected to attend: "Do you know how badly I audition? Fifty percent of the time I have to walk out of the room. I'm naturally very pale, so I turn red and sweat. And I have to literally walk out. Sometimes mid-audition. You start having these conversations in your brain. 'Chris, don't do this. Chris, take it easy. You're just sitting in a room with a person saying some words, this isn't life. And you're letting this affect you? Shame on you.'"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

Okay, there was one on-set panic attack—while Evans was shooting Puncture. "We were getting ready to do a court scene in front of a bunch of people, and I don't know what happened," he says. "It's just your brain playing games with you. 'Hey, you know how we sometimes freak out? What if we did it right now?'"

One of the people who advised Evans to take the Captain America role was his eventual Avengers costar Robert Downey Jr. "I'd seen him around," Downey says. "We share an agent. I like to spend a lot of my free time talking to my agent about his other clients—I just had a feeling about him."

What he told Evans was: This puppy is going to be big, and when it is you're going to get to make the movies you want to make. "In the marathon obstacle course of a career," Downey says, "it's just good to have all the stats on paper for why you're not only a team player but also why it makes sense to support you in the projects you want to do—because you've made so much damned money for the studio."

There's also the fact that Evans had a chance to sign on for something likely to be a kind of watershed moment in the comic-book fascination of our time. "I do think The Avengers is the crescendo of this superhero phase in entertainment—except of course for Iron Man 3," Downey says. "It'll take a lot of innovation to keep it alive after this."

Captain America is the only person left who was truly close to Howard Stark, father of Tony Stark (a.k.a. Iron Man), which meant that Evans' and Downey's story lines are closely linked, and in the course of doing a lot of scenes together, they got to be pals. Downey diagnoses his friend with what he terms "low-grade red-carpet anxiety disorder."

"He just hates the game-show aspect of doing PR," Downey says. "Obviously there's pressure for anyone in this transition he's in. But he will easily triple that pressure to make sure he's not being lazy. That's why I respect the guy. I wouldn't necessarily want to be in his skin. But his motives are pure. He just needs to drink some red-carpet chamomile."

"The majority of the world is empty space," Chris Evans says, watching me as if my brain might explode on hearing this news—or like he might have to fight me if I try to contradict him. We're back at his apartment after a cigarette run through the Combat Zone.

"Empty space!" he says again, slapping the table and sort of yelling. Then, in a slow, breathy whisper, he repeats: "Empty space, empty space. All that we see in the world, the life, the animals, plants, people, it's all empty space. That's amazing!" He slaps the table again. "You want another beer? Gotta be Bud Light. Get dirty—you're in Boston. Okay, organize your thoughts. I gotta take a piss . . ."

My thoughts are this: That this guy who is hugging his dog and talking to me about space and mortality and the trouble with Boston girls who believe crazy gossip about him—this is not the guy I expected to meet. I figured he'd be a meatball. Though, truthfully, I'd never called anyone a meatball until Evans turned me on to the put-down. As in: "My sister Shanna dates meatballs." And, more to the point: "When I do interviews, I'd rather just be the beer-drinking dude from Boston and not get into the complex shit, because I don't want every meatball saying, 'So hey, whaddyathink about Buddhism?'"

At 17, Evans came across a copy of Hermann Hesse's Siddhartha and began his spiritual questing. It's a path of study and struggle that, he says, defines his true purpose in life. "I love acting. It's my playground, it lets me explore. But my happiness in this world, my level of peace, is never going to be dictated by acting," he says. "My goal in life is to detach from the egoic mind. Do you know anything about Eastern philosophy?"

I sip some Bud Light and shake my head sheepishly. "They talk about the egoic mind, the part of you that's self-aware, the watcher, the person you think is driving this machine," he says. "And that separation from self and mind is the root of suffering. There are ways of retraining the way you think. This isn't really supported in Western society, which is focused on 'Go get it, earn it, win it, marry it.'"

Scarlett Johansson says that one of the things she appreciates about Evans is how he steers clear of industry chat when they see each other. "Basically every actor," she says, "including myself, when we finish a job we're like, 'Well, that's it for me. Had a good run. Put me out to pasture.' But Chris doesn't strike me as someone who frets about the next job." The two met on the set of The Perfect Score when they were teenagers and have stayed close; The Avengers is their third movie together. "He has this obviously masculine presence—a dude's dude—and we're used to seeing him play heroic characters," Johansson says, "but he's also surprisingly sensitive. He has close female friends, and you can talk to him about anything. Plus there's that secret song-and-dance, jazz-hands side of Chris. I feel like he grew up with the Partridge Family. He'd be just as happy doing Guys and Dolls as he would Captain America 2."

East needs to do his business, so Evans and I take him up to the roof deck. Evans bought this apartment in 2010 when living in L.A. full-time no longer appealed to him. He came back to stay close to his extended family and the intimate circle of Boston pals he's maintained since high school. The move also seems like a pretty clear keep-it-real hedge against the manic ego-stroking distractions of Hollywood.

"I think my daytime person is different than my nighttime person," Evans says. "With my high-school buddies, we drink beer and talk sports and it's great. The kids in my Buddhism class in L.A., they're wildly intelligent, and I love being around them, but they're not talking about the Celtics. And that's part of me. It's a strange dichotomy. I don't mind being a certain way with some people and having this other piece of me that's just for me."

I asked Downey about Evans' outward regular-Joe persona. "It's complete horseshit," Downey says. "There's an inherent street-smart intelligence there. I don't think he tries to hide it. But he's much more evolved and much more culturally aware than he lets on."

Perhaps the meatball and the meditation can coexist. We argue about our egoic brains and the tao of Boston girls. "I love wet hair and sweatpants," he says in their defense. "I like sneakers and ponytails. I like girls who aren't so la-di-da. L.A. is so la-di-da. I like Boston girls who shit on me. Not literally. Girls who give me a hard time, bust my chops a little."

The chief buster of Evans' chops is, of course, Evans himself. "The problem is, the brain I'm using to dissect this world is a brain formed by it," he says. "We're born into confusion, and we get the blessing of letting go of it." Then he adds: "I think this shit by day. And then night comes and it's like, 'Fuck it, let's drink.'"

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

We talk about his dog and camping with his dog and why he loves being alone more than almost anything except maybe not being alone. "I swear to God, if you saw me when I am by myself in the woods, I'm a lunatic," he says. "I sing, I dance. I do crazy shit."

Evans' unflagging, all-encompassing enthusiasm is impressive, itself a kind of social intelligence. "If you want to have a good conversation with him, don't talk about the fact that he's famous" was the advice I got from Mark Kassen, who codirected Puncture. "He's a blast, a guy who can hang. For quite a long time. Many hours in a row."

I've stopped looking at the clock. We've stopped talking philosophy and moved into more emotional territory. He asks questions about my 9-month-old son, and then Captain America gets teary when I talk about the wonder of his birth. "I weep at everything," he says. "I emote. I love things so much—I just never want to dilute that."

He talks about how close he feels to his family, how open they all are with each other. About everything. All the time. "The first time I had sex," he says, "I raced home and was like, 'Mom, I just had sex! Where's the clit?'"

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

Here is the 2012 Detail Magazine interview with chris evans:

The Avengers' Chris Evans: Just Your Average Beer-Swilling, Babe-Loving Buddhist

By Adam Sachs,

Photographs by Norman Jean Roy

May 2012 Issue

"Should we just kill him and bury his body?" Chris Evans is stage whispering into the impassive blinking light of my digital recorder.

"Chris!" shouts his mother, her tone a familiar-to-anyone-with-a-mother mix of coddling and concern. "Don't say that! What if something happened?"

Evans' mom, Lisa, now speaks directly into the microphone: "Don't listen to them—I'm trying to get them not to say these things!"

"Our house was like a hotel," Evans says. "It was a loony-tunes household. If you got arrested in high school, everyone knew: 'Call Mrs. Evans, she'll bail you out.'"

Sample exchange from today's lunch of baked ziti at a family-style Italian restaurant:

Mom: When he was a kid, he asked me, 'Mom, will I ever think farting isn't funny?'

Chris: You're throwing me under the bus, Ma! Thank you.

Mom: Well, if a dog farts you still find it funny.

Then, back at the apartment, where Mrs. Evans tries to give me good-natured dirt on her son without freaking him out:

Mom: You always tell me when you think a girl is attractive. You'll call me up so excited. Is that okay to say?

Chris: Nothing wrong with that.

Mom: And can I say all the girls you've brought to the house have been very sweet and wonderful? Of course, those are the ones that make it to the house. It's been a long time, hasn't it?

Chris: Looooong time.

Mom: The last one at our house? Was it six years ago?

Chris: No names, Ma!

Mom: But she knocked it out of the park.

Chris: She got drunk and puked at Auntie Pam's house! And she puked on the way home and she puked at our place.

Mom: And that's when I fell in love with her. Because she was real.

East the bulldog ambles over to the table, begging for food.

What he remembers thinking is this: "What if the movie comes out and it's a success and I just reject all of this? What if I want to move to the fucking woods?"

Shades of "Sunday-night meltdowns." Luckily the nerves never follow him to the set. "You do your neuroses beforehand, so when they yell 'Action' you can be present," he says.

And so we do. It's getting late. Again. We should have eaten dinner, but Evans sometimes forgets to eat: "If I could just take a pill to make me full forever, I wouldn't think twice."

Wait, I ask—did she ever tell you?

"Still don't know where it is, man," he says, then breaks into a smile composed of equal parts shit-eating grin and inner peace. "I just don't know. Make some movies, you don't have to know…"

If someone doesn't want to check the link, the anon sent the full interview!

#chris evans #cevans #Details Magazine #2012 #interview

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

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The Miys, Ch. 139

Day Two of the Food Festival! This one has a specific request from @baelpenrose, which was fun to play with in the Low-Stim session (always on day 2).

To everyone who has reached out to tell me how much they are enjoying getting to see Sophia actually relax and just have fun for once.... Y’all are the best! It’s been fun writing it, too.

New reader shout outs go to @corvallis, @penguin--person, @amphibiousuprising, @chip5-0, and I think @lostsoul8822. I think that’s everyone... If I missed you, please DM me, and I’ll add you to the next chapter.

On with the show!

The first day of the Festival, Conor and I ended up staying through not only Maverick’s shift but the one after, just so we could drag him to our favorite spots. Day two, however, Conor was on deck as Support Personnel as well as Maverick, and neither were assigned to me - for the first half of day two, we were in the Low Stim Mode, so I was pretty sure I could brave it on my own with everyone else’s proximity alerts and my own personal hyper-alertness preventing accidental bumps.

For me, the most exciting part was the different foods offered, and the fact that I could focus on just the food. Not having to ignore the other stimuli was a completely relaxing experience. The visual of the mural, with everything present, was still completely different in the even, indirect lighting. The dual nature of it was toned down significantly, leading to the overall feel being softer and overall more pleasant without being distracting.

Halfway through a very good pad thai, I spotted Derek and Sam sitting with Ivan and poking at something that Sam was clearly excited about and Derek was equally doubtful of. I circled around so they could see me approaching, and made a point to wave. “What do you think?” I asked, trying to sign as I spoke but hampered by the food in my hands.

“It was a good try,” Derek confessed, cheeks stuffed with something that had previously been on a plate to his left as a backup plan.

Setting my food down, I grinned mischievously. “Doing my best,” I signed, leading to laughter on all sides.

“You just told him you do him the best,” Ivan murmured, my face immediately flooding red.

“That is NOT what I meant,” I tried to explain out loud, over-enunciating while I clenched my hands in embarrassment.

To his credit, Derek signed what he seemed to understand I meant, emphasizing each sign. It was clear that I had gotten several out of order and added one that changed everything overall.

After repeating the signs and getting confirmation, I shook my head and sighed dramatically. “I tried.”

Ivan was trembling with laughter. “You. You did,” he admitted. “But that was… wow.” His head dropped on his hands as he shook silently.

“Souffle pancakes?” I offered, finger spelling the word souffle since I had no freaking clue how to actually sign it.

“Egg pancake,” Derek explained, poking the one I offered and contemplating the jiggle.

“It’s cinnamon sugar, and not gooey,” I explained.

Apparently I got that one right, because Derek immediately stabbed a piece and shoved it in his mouth. The only judgement I needed was the fact that he dragged the entire remaining pancake onto his plate.

Sam watched his roommate before contemplating his own sample. Before he could even ask, I held up a cup full of macerated berries. “And fruit topping for you, sir.”

“Are those my berries?” he asked, skeptical.

I shook my head. “Bog standard, from the consoles. Your vegetables and fruits are being used in the other shifts. We didn’t want to give anyone here unexpected tastes.”

He nodded and dumped the entire cup of fruit over his pancake, digging in happily.

Ivan batted his eyes at me until I explained. “Sam’s produce has… unexpected pairings. Tomatoes that pair with cheesecake and wines, strawberries that really go well with steak…”

“The mango that goes with beer but not fish?”

“Yeah, that one. Von soil does strange things to produce, turns out.”

“Those matcha-edamame are amazing though.”

“For ice cream, yes. For tea, less so. They’re like… cooking matcha, almost.” I laughed. They actually worked better for ice cream than matcha did, oddly - reducing the sugar content but still giving the same flavor.

“One vendor on the last day is using nothing but my produce,” Sam announced happily. “They asked my permission.”

“That’s good!” I encouraged him. “They should always ask your permission to do things like that.”

“People ask with requisition forms,” he agreed. “Mona asked in person.”

Note to self: much more patronage at Mona’s normal spot, I swore in my head. She specialized in vegetarian dishes, and honestly made some of the best fried cabbage I’d had in my life. Knowing that she was so considerate of Sam cemented her as my new favorite takeaway place.

After a little more chat, I finally waved my goodbyes to everyone and strolled slowly to the next tempting stall. I wasn’t really in any hurry, and did more people-watching than I did eating. Latkes were infinitely more interesting when I could overhear people arguing over family recipes. A small bowl of udon was delicious, but not nearly as flavorful as the discussion around hot versus cold, what to top them with, egg or no egg… the only thing anyone seemed to agree on was that the smiling vendor ‘obviously’ ground their own flour, because the flour provided by the consoles was the wrong texture.

Another mental note: don’t learn to make udon. Despite what I had previously believed, it takes a lifetime to make it right, turns out.

Wandering further down, I was delighted by the discovery of something that was very clearly Hannah’s doing: demonstrations of older food prep techniques. Simon winked at me as he carried on a demonstration of - insanely - how to hand pull toffee. I didn’t know he could do that. Muna was demonstrating the correct way to make chapatis and handing them out as fast as she was making them. Clearly, she had been making them her whole life, because at no point did I actually see her look at them, but every single one was perfect.

Laughter erupted over my shoulder, and I whipped my head around to see the source. After wading through a crowd of smiling faces, I couldn’t help but join in. There, right in front of the entire Ark, was Maverick trying to flip takoyaki as fast as the person demonstrating, and ending up with just a mess of octopus and batter on his side. Both Maverick and the person guiding him were smiling, though, and in the end, the vendor handed Maverick four perfectly-round balls and quickly devoured all of the - less shapely, so to speak - ones on my partner’s side. With an exuberant cheer and extending his arms wide to the crowd, the man exclaimed “The first takoyaki of a new student are always my favorite! Nothing tastes better!”

After bowing to his sensei, Maverick turned and spotted me, face still flushed with laughter. He offered his food to a smaller man I did not recognize, who must have been the person Maverick was Supporting, before waving to me and continuing on. Despite the urge to crush him in a hug, I forced my feet to stay in place and reminded myself that he was working.

By the time I trusted myself not to race after him, I realized someone had been trying to get my attention and had resorted to messaging me rather than shouting. “Phee, I don’t know what la-la land you are lost in, but look 100 yards to your four.”

The hell was Arthur doing here? He wasn’t scheduled to work this shift, as far as I was aware. Craning my neck over my shoulder, I turned to see… Apparently a hallucination. It had to be. There was no chance in any of the nine hells that Arthur Farro was dishing out spaghetti, much less smiling while doing it.

Almost dreamlike, I found myself drifting over to confirm that I was wrong, only to be startled when he shoved a plate with not only spaghetti but two gorgeous pieces of garlic bread under my nose. “Special plates, you can’t smell anything unless it’s on purpose.”

“You… Spaghetti?” I asked, eloquent as ever.

“Family recipe.”

“Leaning into the stereotype a bit, aren’t you?” I asked carefully before shoving as much of one thick, crusty piece of toast in my mouth as I could.

He shook his head. “Anyone who tells you their family is Italian and denies having a family recipe for anything is a damned liar.”

Skeptically, I took a bite. It was amazing. “Ah ee deh rehahee,” I tried to get out around the heap of pasta I was steadily shoving in my mouth.

“Maverick is a very bad influence on your table manners,” he observed drily, plating more portions and handing them out. “And no. Not happening.”

“You know I can cook.”

“Not the point. I also know that you will fiddle with it until it is unrecognizable, so there’s really no point in giving it to you.”

Defiantly, I took a smaller bite and chewed carefully. “Garlic, onions, obviously. Sausage and minced… Lamb? But that’s probably just for this session, knowing you it’s spicy sausage regularly. I’m not getting carrot, though, so no soffritto? Unexpected…. Is that thyme, I’m tasting?”

“Rosemary, you heathen. And you’re still wrong.”

I mumbled to myself. “What did I get wrong? It’s gotta be the lamb… maybe he does usually use the lamb? I’m certain it is lamb…”

“It is lamb, and no, I don’t usually use it. But you left several things out.”

I stared at the plate again, confused. “I didn’t think I needed to mention the tomatoes….”

“Basil… oregano….” he drawled.

“Duhhh?” I poked through the last bite on my plate, sniffing it, trying to figure out what I was missing. “Fine, you win, I’m lost.”

“Mushrooms, Sophia. There’s mushrooms. Jeezus. It was an easy one, too.” He showed me a bowl full of what looked like cooked and crumbled sausage, only for me to realize it was the tiniest diced mushrooms I had ever seen in my life.

“I am dying to know how you got them that small.”

“With a knife?” He arched an eyebrow at me as he turned to start another batch of sauce.

“Yeah, no shit, Arthur.”

“Correct, there is no shit in the spaghetti,” he confirmed cheekily as the vegetables started sizzling.

“Asshole,” I laughed, scraping the remaining sauce from my plate with the piece of bread I saved just for that purpose. Just as I was frowning at the sauce-less plate and remaining half-piece of bread, a scalding hot dollop of fresh sauce invaded my vision.

“You love me, because I won’t let you frown at your bread like that.”

Fiiiinnnne I sighed in my head as I shoved a piece of saucy, saucy bread into my cheeks and waggled my fingers to let him get back to work.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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captain-josslett · 4 years ago

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Broken Melody - Part Twenty

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen...

Summary: Grammy Award winning Emma Danvers is the first to say she has a pretty good life. But what happens when it implodes around her and it looks like things will never be the same again?

Words: 5.8k+

Warnings: Angst, Fluff.

Pairings: Emma Danvers x Lena Luthor

This Part: Emma tries to work through everything and continues to struggle with not seeing her sisters.

So, so, sorry it’s been a while since updating. I’ve started a full time job and my mind just hasn’t been able to write 😅 But I do get to daydream when I work so I have loads of ideas stored away and hopefully will be able to update quicker.

Thank you for reading and let me know if you wanna be tagged or any general feedback will be greatly appreciated. Please! I like knowing your thoughts.

Taglist: @finleyfray, @life-is-hella-unfair, @natasha-danvers, @supergirl-writingz, @camslightstories, @thinking1bee, @aznblossom,

Ten year old Emma Danvers jumps awake when she hears a blood curdling scream. For a few moments she blinks into her dark room, confused at the noise that woke her. But when a softer wail fills the silence Emma quickly rolls out of bed. Recognising the cries coming from her recently adopted kryptonian sister, Kara.

Emma pads out of her small room and into the hallway, yawning and tiredly rubbing her eyes as she gently pushes Alex and Kara’s bedroom door open. Kara’s whimpering increases in volume as Emma enters the room. She softly closes the door behind her and quietly tiptoes over to Kara’s bed.

Emma sadly looks over at her oldest sister, Alex, who is turned away from the crying alien. Seemingly ignoring Kara’s pain. This annoys Emma greatly and the sisters have already argued over it. The blonde had even offered to swap rooms with Alex but the redhead stubbornly refused saying it was her room.

“Kara?” Emma whispers softly and waits for the crying figure to respond. Tearful blue eyes peer over the shaking duvet before quickly disappearing again.

Emma looks mournfully down at the other blonde as she thinks of ways to help her. After a few moments Emma lifts the corner of the covers and climbs into Kara’s bed. She gently reaches out and hugs Kara close, remembering how her Mom would comfort her after she’d have a bad dream.

Her new sister flinches slightly at the touch but soon Emma feels Kara settle and maneuver around to hug her back. The alien starts to shake as she tries to stifle her sobs into Emma’s shoulder.

Emma’s heart aches at the sound. She pulls her head back so she can see Kara’s face. The night light illuminates Kara’s flushed cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “No, it’s okay to cry. Mom said you get sick if you try to keep your tears in.” Emma tries to encourage the alien. Though she doesn’t know if Kara can fully understand her yet. However, Kara’s face scrunches up and fresh tears fall.

“It’s okay.” Emma says soothingly while stroking her hair.

“S-s-sing?” Kara gulps out and buries her head back into Emma’s little shoulder.

“Which one?” Emma asks softly and Kara thinks for a moment but shakes her head as she sniffs heavily. “Okay.” Emma purses her lips forward as she thinks about the other songs she has sung to Kara. “I got it.”

Somewhere over the rainbow, Way up high, There’s a land that I’ve heard of, Once in a lullaby.

Emma immediately feels Kara relaxing as she continues to quietly sing. The sisters had recently watched ‘The Wizard of Oz’ with Kara because Emma wanted to show her new sister one of her favourite films. The alien had truly been fascinated with the movie and Emma couldn’t help but watch Kara’s reactions to certain parts. How Kara’s face lit up when Dorthy opened the door to a world of colour or how freaked out Kara got when the Wicked Witch appeared in a plume of red smoke and disappearing in a blaze of fire.

Somewhere over the rainbow, Bluebirds fly, Birds fly over the rainbow, Why then oh why can’t I?

As Emma nears the end of the song Kara’s sobs start to die down, being replaced with shuddering breaths. The twelve year old alien clings tightly to the little human, the pressure hurts Emma slightly but she knows Kara doesn’t mean to hurt her and she is not use to her super strength yet.

Emma stares over at Alex’s back. Not knowing if the redhead was awake or asleep. But Emma guesses she is awake by how she is breathing. Silently Emma hopes her oldest sister will come around to Kara.

Yes it had been a shock when Superman brought his older, but now younger, alien cousin to them but Emma was overcome with curiosity and intrigue over the other blonde. She tried to communicate with the alien and found a way through hand gestures and persistence. Repeating words for Kara and pointing items out. Mainly important things like water, food, Star Wars and everything a ten year old finds important. Once Eliza found Emma talking to the Kryptonian about the different plants and vegetables in the garden and Kara patiently listened. Fascinated by the texture of the leaves and the words Emma was saying. Both missing the scowling glare Alex was giving them from her bedroom window.

Emma then presented the wooden swords her dad had made. Giving Kara Alex’s and demonstrating how to sword fight. Soon the two blonde’s were giggling while twirling around and bashing each other’s swords. Until Alex furiously stormed over to them and took her sword away from Kara. Grumbling it was hers and she was going to break it. Jeremiah immediately set to work making Kara one of her own. Which the two blonde’s watched with tilted heads.

But when Jeremiah told them to go play and leave him to concentrate Emma took Kara back into the house, trying to figure out more things to show her new sister. She had already displayed her seashell collection, which Kara analysed deeply and Emma noticed a crinkle appearing between the other blonde’s eyebrows.

Emma looks around the house and her eyes fall on her art supplies. Making Kara jump when she claps her hands together in excitement.

“I hope you like art! Alex doesn’t really, which is sad but she likes her own things. Like reading. Reading is okay but I much prefer doing something.” Emma smiles at Kara who smiles politely. “Have a seat.” Emma points at the dining room table and Kara complies. The ten year old then pulls out all of her art supply to show Kara. She watched as the alien’s blue eyes lit up behind her glasses.

“Did you do art on Krypton?” Emma asks, happy that she may have found something Kara enjoys.

Kara nods and the pair quietly sit for hours as they draw and paint. Emma didn’t mind Kara using most of the red paint and was pleased she thought of a good idea.

She hardly sees Alex, seemingly too moody that she wasn’t the centre of attention in the Danvers household anymore. Keeping to herself and barely talking to her baby sister.

Weeks turned into months and slowly Alex seemed to warm up to the new addition to the family. Especially when Kara defended Emma against a group of bullies. Standing with her little sister and ready to defend her. Alex marched over and stood next to her side, ready to punch any bully in the face that hurts either of her sisters. This was the moment Kara uttered her family motto, explaining they were stronger together.

The three started to become closer over time and would regularly be found in the forest by their home playing and having adventures.

On one such occasion a fifteen year old Alex and twelve year old Emma teamed up together as heroes to try and take down the evil villain that was destroying their town of Midvale.

“Psfft I don’t see the target. Over.” Emma quietly talks into the walkie talkie and holds her wooden sword tightly in her other hand.

“Please tell me you did not just make the static noise?” Alex laughs while rolling her eyes.

“Ah come on Al! Plus you need to say over. Over.”

“Fine.” Alex sasses back. “Over.” The redhead continues to look around, listening intently for the fourteen year old Kara. Having a sneaky suspicion that her alien sister was using her powers. Which was against the rules.

“Psttf I have an idea. Over” Emma’s voice whispers out from the walkie talkie.

“And what is that?” Alex responds quickly. “Over.”

“What if we do what that guy did in that movie. Over.”

“Vague… We watch loads of movies dork.” Alex rolls her eyes again at her little sister’s comment. She twirls her bow in her hand as she waits for Emma’s response.

“You know he sacrifices himself. Draws the evil guy out and gives the hero a chance to defeat them. Over.”

“Not a bad idea. Especially if you are the bait.” Alex chuckles and shakes her head. “Over.”

“Let’s do it by the fallen tree in the clearing? You can hide and I’ll call for her. Over.” Alex smirks at the excitement within Emma’s voice.

“Sure Peanut. Over.”

Alex quietly jogs to the huge fallen tree. Constantly on the lookout for Kara. But her adopted alien sister is nowhere to be seen. As Alex approaches the clearing she sees Emma step out of the other end and start to look around. Their eyes immediately connect, as if Emma could sense where she was and Alex quickly hides within some bushes and waits. Readying her bow and arrow. Making sure the arrow was a dummy that would only sting Emma slightly if she got in the way.

Emma waits for Alex to get into position and cups her hands over her mouth, yelling loudly. “Kara?! Hey Kara!” She waits and soon enough a blur appears before her. “Hey! You used your powers!”

“Well as a villain of course I would!” Kara bites back slyly with a grin.

“You really are evil!” Emma gasps dramatically, raising a hand to her chest.

“And when I am finished with you I will hunt your sister down and hurt her! And your little dog too!” Kara slowly takes a few menacing steps towards Emma who stands her ground.

“No! Not Alex and Toto!” Emma’s eyes fill with tears. Alex is always blown away that her baby sister can cry on demand and would often use her sister’s talent to get extra treats from their Mom or sitter.

“Little one?” Kara asks, concerned enough to break character.

“They are fake, keep going! You’re doing really well!” Emma gives Kara a smile before filling her eyes with tears again. “You will never get away with this!” Emma yells dramatically, pointing at Kara.

‘Give her the damn Oscar!’ Alex thinks with a smile as she watches the blonde’s.

Kara nods and puts a sly smirk back on her face. “But I already have!”

“No! You will never win! Good always defeats evil, you piece of bantha fodder!”

Alex snorts at Emma’s Star Wars reference and readies herself, knowing she’ll need to spring out at any moment.

“How dare you insult me! Me the mistress of all evil! You are nothing but the dirt on the bottom of my shoe!” Kara yells as she reaches for her wooden sword. Emma circles around so Kara’s back is to their eldest sister. “Now prepare to meet your doom!”

“Not if I can help it!” Alex suddenly appears behind them and fires her bow and arrow at the blonde. Hitting Kara’s right shoulder where it harmlessly falls to the ground.

“No! Ow!” Kara screams and collapses to her knees. “Damn you!” She coughs comically and falls to the floor.

Emma snorts and places a hand over her mouth.

“Emma! It’s rude to mock the dead.” Alex scolds her little sister.

“Sorry.” The blonde tries to wipe the smile off her face and make her expression natural.

“Who says I’m dead?” Kara’s muffled voice pipes up from the ground.

“Well the arrow would have been made out of a substance that could kill you and due to my excellent marksmanship it went through your heart. Killing you instantly.” Alex explains as she twirls the bow around.

Kara lifts her head up and smirks at the redhead. “You hit me in the right shoulder. My heart is on the left dummy.”

Emma snorts again which erupts into loud laughter when Alex glares at her. “Great shooting Alex!”

“Which means… Sneak attack!” Kara yells while pulling Emma onto the floor and starts tickling her.

“Nooo!!” Emma screams with laughter and tries to get out of her sister’s grip. “Please! Stop! Argh! Alex! Help!”

The redhead watches the pair with amusement before stepping in. “I’ll help you!” Alex yells theatrically. But instead of aiding Emma she joins in with Kara.

“Traitor!” Emma gasps out. “You’re… My sister!”

“And? Maybe I purposefully aimed for Kara’s right shoulder to take down the real villain!”

“Dun dun dunnnnn!” Kara laughs out as she continues ticking the thrashing blonde.

“Please stop! I’m gonna pee!” Tears of laughter stream down Emma’s face and the sisters finally stop their attack.

Alex smirks at her baby sister as Emma wipes the tears from her face, the redhead then looks up at the sky. “It’s getting late, we better head back.” She stands to her feet and holds out her hands for her sisters to take, helping Kara and Emma stand. The sister’s turn towards home and walk together in unison, laughing and joking together. Ready to take on the world.

-- -- --

Present day Emma stares out of the DEO window while plucking at her guitar while her mind wanders through her memories with her sisters. Though she can’t really remember the time before Kara came. To her Kara has always been there.

Slowly her mind starts to filter through the session she had with Alistair. They had worked on her fuzzy memories of the attack. How they are slowly coming back into focus but seemingly her brain was protecting her by blocking most of it out. Emma had projected the hurtful words spoken by her sisters that Emma does remember. That a part of her believes making her insecurities bubble up to the surface.

Lily, Alistair’s white german shepherd, had almost instantly jumped up on Emma’s bed and placed her head in Emma’s lap. Staying there throughout the session. Helping to ground Emma and when she got emotional or experienced a flashback, Lily had been a comforting presence.

A noise by Emma’s open door draws her attention away from the window. Standing in the hall was a transfixed Winn with Brainy and Nia behind him.

Emma smirks and waves at the trio. Stopping the music seemingly snaps them out of their trance.

“Hi Em.” Winn smiles brightly as he approaches one of the chairs around Emma’s bed. Emma returns his smile but it is more subdued. “You okay?” He frowns at the blonde, noticing her lack of a smile. He places the food container on the tray table by Emma and she nods while pulling the table closer to her. Her smile brightens slightly when she sees the sausages, vegetables and mash potato.

“Doctor Hamilton said you can start trying some form of solid foods and as I know you like that British restaurant down the road we thought lunch could be a bit more international.”

‘So the Tai food the other day wasn’t international enough for you?’ Emma wants to say but doesn’t write it down. Instead letting out a breathy snort as she starts cutting into the food.

“Oh yea Doc also said to cut it up real small. Chew lots before swallowing” Winn lists off the instructions Doctor Hamilton had told him while opening his container. Watching as Emma nods in response. “Enjoy your bangers and mash!”

Emma lets out a breathy laugh, remembering the weird names the Brits call their food. ‘Spotted Dick’ being her favourite by far. Not believing they would call a fruit, sponge dessert by that name, but had been proved wrong when the amused waiter brought the pudding out for Emma to try. Despite the very off putting name, Emma thoroughly enjoyed it. Almost having to fight off her bandmates to eat all of it in peace.

“Have you been to the UK Winn?” Nia asks, filling the silence.

“Yea I have. Both future and present.”

Emma lifts an eyebrow in response. Wondering what life is like in the future and being frustrated that Winn was keeping so tight lipped about it all.

“Awesome! I haven’t yet but it’s on my bucket list.” Nia replies enthusiastically, a longing look fills her eyes.

“Did you know the British public consume over sixty billion cups of tea a year. Around 100 million each day.” Brainy chimes into the conversation, causing Nia and Winn to gape at him about the statistic.

Emma continues to listen to her friends talking. Wishing she could join in and tell them about her time in the UK. But also being aware of how painfully slow conversation flows when she has to write everything down.

Sighing deeply Emma shoves more food in her mouth. Thankful that Winn chose something she enjoys. To be fair Emma likes anything. Other than Marmite… A disgusting yeast spread that half of Brits like. One of her stage managers in the UK dared Emma to try it. Making the blonde gag and causing her to drink loads of water to get rid of the horrible taste in her mouth.

“Emma?” Nia calls out, breaking Emma’s train of thought. “You’ve been to the UK many times right?” Emma nods. “Have you seen the Queen?” Emma nods again.

“What when?” Winn asks with a mouthful of food and his eyebrows almost up to his hairline.

Emma quietly sighs and grabs her notebook, keenly aware of the silence in the room as she writes.

‘The Royal Variety Performance.’

“Ah yea!” Nia smiles remembering the video she found on youtube after Kara first told her about Emma. She had been transfixed by Axis’ music and Emma’s performance. Singing a powerful ballad that moved the brunette to tears. Nia had spent hours upon hours going through Axis’ social media and debated about whether to send Emma a friend request. The brunette had squealed loudly when Emma had accepted and immediately messaged her,

A knock stops Nia from asking more questions as Emma looks over to see Lucy standing awkwardly by the door. Emma can’t help but shift uncomfortably in the bed, hoping Lucy has calmed down from earlier this morning.

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to yell at you.” Lucy says as if she has read Emma’s mind. “May I come in?”

Emma nods before turning back to her meal. Though she feels like she has lost her appetite.

Lucy glances at the three friends who give her looks of encouragement as she cautiously approaches Emma’s bed, watching the blonde push her food around.

“Can I sit here?” Lucy points to the end of the bed and Emma nods without looking up at her. Lucy lowers onto the bed and takes a deep breath. “So, I’m sorry about earlier. I overreacted when I found out you were missing and you are like a sister to me and I got so scared-” Lucy lifts a hand to her head trying to find the words to how terrified she had felt when Emma wasn’t in her room or in the building. She immediately rushed down to the cells but when there was no sign of Emma anywhere the brunette really panicked.

A hand grasps her knee and Lucy’s green eyes snap up to Emma’s. “Sorry.” Lucy breathes out and Emma gives her a timid smile. “So, we also need to discuss the next steps. Mainly the timeline of your recovery because we cannot disclose the Phoenix serum.”

Emma nods and leans back against the bed.

“How long would this timeline be?” Winn asks with a frown.

“We are trying to not make it overly long. Doctor Hamilton did say wounds like Emma’s would have taken at least 3 months to heal fully and she’d be bed bound for a while.”

“But Emma isn’t bed bound.” Nia blinks in confusion. “Would Emma need to stay here?”

“Or in her apartment.” Lucy looks at the blonde mournfully, who deeply swallows in response. Not liking the sound of that at all. Not feeling at all ready to go back to the apartment. Even after J’onn had told her a crew had made it good as new, with no evidence of the incident.

“There would be a huge media frenzy if any photos come out of you like this. The world thinks you can barely open your eyes and hardly move due to the amount of broken bones you have.”

Alarm fills Emma and she quickly grabs her notebook to write.

‘Robyn?!’

“Ah yea. I had her sign a NDA.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “She was annoyingly persistent. I thought you hated each other?” Emma shakes her head and lets out a breathy chuckle. “Jack isn’t far behind, though I’m trying to hold him off for as long as possible.”

Relief starts to filter in and Emma nods before starting to write again. She bites the inside of her lip at the thought of returning back to her apartment. Not sure she’s ready or even wants to go back there.

‘How do you propose we move forward?’ She holds the pad up and watches her friend’s face as she reads.

Lucy hesitates slightly before unlocking her tablet to bring up the timeline. “We will need to stage photos and videos showing your recovery and release them at the right time.” Lucy looks down at her notes. “We do have some already but I’d be happier if we do more.”

Emma glumly sighs causing Lucy to glance back up at her.

“I’m sorry Em but we need to do this to keep the media off our backs. J’onn and I had hoped it would have died down but everyone is still up in arms about what happened.”

Emma’s expression morphs into one of shock and disbelief. She quickly writes one word before showing the lawyer.

‘Why?’

“Because those that listen to your music feel a powerful connection towards you. Even though they have not met you or know you personally.” Brainy explains simply.

“And the attack has brought your music to the attention of more people.” Winn points out.

“Tell me about it.” Lucy says exasperatedly and runs a hand through her hair. “I had a three hour debate with your record label as they want to release the work you’ve done on your new album. Even the covers you’ve been sending Lena.”

Emma immediately shakes her head quickly at the idea. Causing a ringing in her ears.

“Yea I told them they can shove it.” Lucy agrees and quickly takes a piece of sausage from Emma’s container. Almost getting her hand stabbed from Emma’s fork.

Emma playfully glares at the brunette and Lucy sticks her tongue out before popping the meat into her mouth. Emma shakes her head and starts writing.

‘So I will be under house arrest?’

“I’m afraid so.” Lucy says softly, causing Emma’s shoulders to slump and her expression becomes sullen.

“I may be able to help with that.” Winn pipes up, causing Emma and Lucy to stare at him. “I, with Brainy and Lena’s help, could develop a face modifier. That way Emma can move around freely and not disrupt the timeline.”

“That could work.” Lucy squints her eyes as she considers the idea.

“May help Alex and Kara to know Emma is moving around too. I’ve never seen them so broken, I mean poor Alex, you would have thought Kelly would have stood by her and not run away-” Nia comments passionately and Emma freezes.

Horror fills Emma's whole body. She remembers Alex telling her the morning before the attack that she and Kelly were having problems but Emma never imagined Kelly would leave Alex like this. Especially with what her sister is going through.

Immediately Emma leaps out of bed and sprints to the door. She needs to see her sisters. Her heart aches knowing they are both in pain. That they are broken.

“Emma?!” Her friends yells fill the hallway as they chase after her. Agents seemingly appear ahead of her but the blonde easily sidesteps them. Using the training Alex had taught her in self defence.

As soon as she reaches the end of the corridor the blonde slides into the wall and repeatedly slams her hand on the elevator button. When it becomes obvious the doors won’t open quick enough she dashes towards the door to the stairs. Her determination gives her tunnel vision and she ignores those around her.

Until someone leaps on her back.

“Emma stop!” Lucy yells as she clings to Emma, wrapping her arms and legs around the blonde. Halting Emma from leaving the floor. “I’m sorry but they aren’t ready to see you. I’m so sorry.”

Emma tries to get Lucy off her back but the brunette has too good a grip. The blonde heaves in heavy breaths and her face scrunches up as she starts to silently cry. She longs to hold her sisters. To reassure them they are okay.

A ping announces an elevator has arrived. Emma turns her head to gaze longingly at it but feels Lucy’s grip tighten around her chest.

“Emma please.”

The blonde watches mournfully as the doors close.

When it becomes apparent that Emma won’t be running down to the cells Lucy slides off her back.

The brunette sadly looks at the tears streaming down her friend’s face. Placing a gentle hand on Emma’s shoulder Lucy guides her back to the room.

“Emma.” Nia squeaks out with wide eyes as she walks with the pair. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-”

The blonde reaches out and squeezes Nia’s hand. Giving her a barely there smile which Nia returns with an encouraging one of her own.

Emma re-enters the room and sits heavily on her bed. Staring out of the window.

“Em?” Winn asks softly, causing Emma to slightly move her head and focus on him. “Are you gonna finish that?” Winn points at the half eaten food.

Emma shakes her head before turning back to the window. She ignores the yelp of pain from Winn when Lucy slaps his arm as he reaches out for the discarded food. Purposefully tuning out the conversation in the room.

Instead, focusing on the world outside of the DEO. The airplanes that zoom across the sky, the birds that flutter past the window and settle on the sill. The traffic down an avenue she can see. Anything to try and keep her mind from acknowledging the pain she’s feeling. The thoughts that are screaming in her mind about her sisters.

“-ma?” Winn’s voice breaks through as she recognises he’s calling out to her. Slowly she turns to look at him. “We’re going back to work. I- er- left your food.”

Emma looks down at the tray and sees that Winn hasn’t touched it. She nods and lifts the right corner of her mouth slightly to show her appreciation.

Emma eyes flick to Nia as she cautiously approaches her. “Can I give you a hug?” Emma nods and opens her arms. Nia immediately dives into them. “Message me if you need me.” Emma nods again and squeezes the superhero. When Nia steps back Winn is already there with his arms open, waiting for a hug. Making Emma voicelessly snort.

“Ah come on!” Winn whines and Emma motions for him to hug her. He does immediately and Emma can’t help but feel more of her anxiety melt away. “If you need anything just give a shout.” Winn says as he pulls away. Emma raises an eyebrow at him and can’t help but smile at the look of horror that comes across his face. Especially when Brainy, Nia and Lucy lower their heads into their hands. “Em. I’m so sorry I-”

Emma immediately lifts a hand to his lips, silencing him. Thankfully he complies, instead gaping at her like a goldfish.

“See you later Emma.” Brainy nods at her before quickly leaving the room, already analysing his tablet at ideas for a face modifier. Nia forcefully grabs Winn’s hand and pulls him out with her.

“I can stay if you want me to?” Lucy asks as she hovers by the bed and massages her shoulder.

Emma is tempted to shake her head but instead she nods. Not wanting to be alone right now.

“Okay great!” Lucy beams at her. “Do you want to do anything? I mean I have work I can be doing but I can watch a film with you or we could play a card game? Chess?”

Emma looks over at the chessboard on the coffee table by the sofa. Lena had brought it in to give Emma something else to do. But the board is currently being taken up by an intense game the girlfriends were playing. Emma reaches for her notebook and writes a response.

‘Lena will immediately say she’s won if we mess the board up.’

“Ah! We can’t have that!” Lucy jokes and sits on the end of Emma’s bed. Her expression becomes sombre as she studies the blonde closely and Emma stares right back. “Are you okay?”

Emma looks between Lucy’s questioning green eyes and slowly shakes her head.

Lucy reaches out and gently holds Emma’s hand. “I’m here if you want to discuss it.”

Emma’s eyes start to glisten with tears and she wipes at them in exasperation.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Lucy grabs Emma’s hand to halt her rubbing. “It’s okay to cry. God knows I’m done my fair share recently.”

Emma tilts her head and frowns slightly.

“What?” Lucy mirrors Emma’s expression. The blonde lets go of Lucy’s hand and starts writing.

‘What do you mean?’

“About what?” Lucy asks, confusion written across her face.

‘What have you been crying about?’

“About you! And Alex and Kara! This whole shit show!” Lucy says bitterly and watches Emma move her pen to paper. “And don’t even think about writing that you are not worth my tears cause you fucking are!”

Emma eyes’s snap up to Lucy’s and her mouth drops open. She was going to write exactly that.

“I’m right aren’t I?”

Emma shuts her mouth and shakes her head.

“Bull.” Lucy narrows her eyes. “Have you forgotten I am a lawyer? And a damn good one at that?”

Emma smiles sadly and looks down to write. ‘Yea you are. Frustratingly so.’

“Unless I’m the one defending you right?” Lucy raises an eyebrow and Emma nods, her smile turning more genuine. “So, do you wanna write about it? You don’t have to, I just-” Lucy hesitates, sighing deeply as she chooses her words. “I worry about you and I wish I could make everything better.”

‘I know.’

“You totally wrote that with Han Solo in mind didn’t you?”

Emma lets out a breathy snort and Lucy laughs loudly.

“You're such a nerd.” Lucy teases and Emma just shrugs. But her smile fades and the blonde gazes down at the paper as she thinks about her sisters. “Em?”

Emma takes a breath and starts writing. Lucy watches her and the expressions Emma makes as she scribbles her thoughts down. In these moments Lucy really misses Emma’s voice and her anger bubbles up at whoever did this to her friend. But before Lucy’s anger simmers up anymore Emma turns the notepad around.

‘I just feel so helpless. We’ve always done everything together and I’m happy they have each other but I want to be there with them. Dad always joked we were like a three legged stool. When one of us wasn’t at home we almost couldn’t function. I get what you are saying that they aren’t ready to see me... But I just miss them so much.’

“Aw Em.” Lucy says sympathetically after she reads. Her eyes flick back up to Emma’s. “It will get better. I know that doesn’t help right now. But, it will.”

Emma nods and leans back against the bed.

“So, what do you want to do?”

‘Okay if I paint?’

“Of course it is! I’ll just work here on my tablet.” Lucy smiles reassuringly at Emma and hops off the bed. She pauses and turns back around to Emma. “Hug?”

Emma smiles and opens her arms. Lucy wraps her arms around the blonde and tries to convey how much she cares for her in it.

After Lucy sits in a chair to work she can’t help but watch how Emma morphs into her creative mode. How the blonde focuses solely on what she’s doing with her paint brush. The way Emma’s eyes squint and her tongue slightly pokes out to the side.

Lucy smiles and tries to concentrate on her own work. Leaving the pair in peaceful silence.

-- -- --

Many hours later there is a knock on the door. Lucy glances up as Lena and Sam enter the room.

“Hi!” Lucy greets the friends happily and turns to look at Emma. The blonde is still so busy with what she’s doing she hasn’t noticed the new arrivals.

It’s only when Emma cleans her brushes, happy with what she’s done, does she sense Lena’s presence in the room. She quickly looks up towards the sofa where Lena, Sam and Lucy are sitting. Seemingly halting their conversation as the trio notice Emma’s focus on them. Lena can’t help but greet her girlfriend with a beaming smile.

“Hi love.” Lena says while standing and approaches the blonde. Emma waves at her but gives her a questioning look. “I didn’t want to disturb you.” Lena gracefully sits on the bed next to Emma and softly kisses the blonde’s lips. “You were so engrossed in what you were doing.”

“Sorry.”

“No don’t be! I’m glad you are painting.” Lena smiles reassuringly at her girlfriend. Her smiles then morphs into a shy one. “I- er- got you something.”

Emma tilts her head and her eyes bulge when Lena lifts a huge bouquet of flowers up. Having not noticed them when the raven haired beauty walked in or when she came over to the bed.

“Wow!” Emma signs and she reaches out to touch a red rose. Feeling the softness of the petal and admiring the colour.

“The florist told me the roses mean love, obviously. The baby breath is everlasting love. The-” Lena pauses as she tries to remember the meaning of the other flowers. Emma starts kissing her cheek making Lena beam and lean into them. “Em! I’m trying to think!” Emma pulls away and rests her chin on Lena’s shoulder. “So, the daisies are my love is pure and the tulips all have different meanings, the red being eternal love, the orange desire and passion, yellow happiness and sunshine and the cream tulips-” Lena gently moves her girlfriend’s head so she can gaze deeply into Emma’s slightly bloodshot eyes. “I will love you forever.”

She watches as Emma melts and her eyes glisten with tears. The blonde tilts her head and slowly leans towards her girlfriend. Lena copies her and they gently kiss but before they can deepen it further and noise fills the room.

“Blurgh!” Lucy yells out, pretending to heave. Emma furiously pulls away and flips her off. Glaring at the brunette before turning back to her girlfriend.

“Thank you. I love them.”

“I’m glad.” Lena smirks at the blonde and Emma carefully places the bouquet on the tray table. Making sure not to knock any of the other stuff on there. “So, how's your head?”

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” Emma signs cheekily and Lena roars with laughter.

“What did she say?” Sam looks between the two girlfriends, wanting to know why Lena reacted the way she did.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” Lena responds while continuing to laugh, causing the two brunettes to join in with her and Emma just smiles happily at them as she snuggles into her girlfriend.

(Part Twenty One)

#supergirl #supergirl tv #supergirl imagine #supergirl fanfic #supergirl baby danvers #lena luthor x baby danvers #lena luthor imagine #alex danvers x baby danvers #alex danvers imagine #kara danvers x baby danvers #kara danvers imagine #baby danvers #b!d

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sunder-soul · 3 years ago

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you make most of it up? That's amazing. Could you maybe share your method/thinking/resources for someone who also wants to write believable class stuff in the hp fandom? Thank u very much

Yayaya sure!

Short answer:

So I'll pull details from the HP wiki, and if I need a random plant name or potion ingredient and can't be fucked making one up (or I don't need it to be something symbolic etc) I often use this random generator and either use those names straight out, or tweak them a bit before using them.

Long answer:

Well I'm a huge fan of soft worldbuilding (where you don't outline all the rules and details and instead have a sort of immersive description that leaves a lot unsaid) because I feel it makes things more realistic, like you're glimpsing little parts of things that are utterly normal and therefore don't need explaining ya kno. So when I write classroom scenes or any kind of 'lore' I try not to explain it and rely instead on characters reacting to things to convey its importance, normalcy, or strangeness.

I do this alllll the time but I did it HEAPS in white dove. When Tom is in trial and he gets a 'tier nine' cell (which I made up) I don't bother writing something like "oh my gosh tier nine is the worst and most intense type of cell you can get and it has these rules and these horrifying conditions" bc I don't need to. The whole room reacts with gasps and horror and even Tom looks freaked out (tho that's mostly bc he was expecting a sentence of a specific amount of years and was confident he could just outlive it bc immortal and that's the moment that he's like oh fuck, but the point still stands).

So the emotions/reactions of the people tell you everything you need to know without me having to outright describe it. You don't need to know what a tier 9 cell is, you get that it's fucking baddddd. In fact, it's sort of even better than explaining it bc our imaginations find the unknown even scarier than something horrifying described in detail.

In the same chap a bit further down, I make reference to a 'peeping charm' which I made up on the spot. Same deal but different context, it makes sense that magic users have a spell that'll act like a peephole in their doors, there's no reason to say 'this spell will let me look through the door without the person on the other side noticing so I can see who it is before opening it' because this would be a totally normal thing. So I just wrote it like it wasn't a big deal bc to this character in this context, this wouldn't be a big deal.

On the other hand you can also totally introduce something new that DOES need some detail/exposition. At the beginning of this same chap I say that Tom's lips and cheeks are flushed, that this a tell-tale sign of veritaserum poisoning, and that they've obviously given him heaps of the stuff. I made this up just bc I wanted there to be something the MC could visually and easily see from across the room that would establish that Tom's been given a SHIT TON of truth potion so that for the rest of the scene, the audience in the room with him AND the audience reading the chapter knows he's being forced to tell the truth. It just added to the tension of the moment and made sense for the context (a trial lol). It also gives the scene some layers - Tom was fairly brief and controlled when he actually speaks in that scene, and I wanted it to be unclear if this is because he's being super self controlled by choice as he's normally prone to being, if he knows that he'll be unable to lie and doesn't want to let on any more of his secrets, or if he knows honesty will destroy the picture perfect tragic image the newspapers have made for him if he's TOO much of a monster.

I'm rambling but the point is, if you're going to introduce details or concepts it's really important to have an understanding of who would know that stuff already, who would find it commonplace and who might be totally unaware of it. Sometimes everyone in the scene would know about it already but the AUDIENCE doesn't, and that's when you can use like casual conversation/questions between characters to give more info whilst also showing that this is all very normal.

Having a character not know something is an easy way to have another character explain something to them but there has to be a solid reason as to WHY one would know it and the other doesn't.

An example of a time I've used this is in Mimicry when the MC knows troll blood will ruin Tom's potion but Tom doesn't. Normally we'd be like 'wait what, why would a nerd-ass know it all like Tom not know this,' but it makes sense to my understanding of the character that he's the sort of person who got a recommendation that 'Zoological Potions Ingredients' was the BEST textbook on ingredients and went off and fucking memorised the whole thing and didn't think that anything could have changed in the 70 years after it was published (Tom strikes me as the sort of person who chases 'the best' and doesn't think much past that is worth considering). Hence why he didn't know that the classification for trolls changed and that further research was done, since he also strikes me as the sort of person who would consider reading up on the social status of trolls to be a little pointless lol, but surprise bitch it wasn't.

So I made up most of that except for the existence of Bundimuns and trolls - I went hunting on the wiki for some obscure substance I could reference in passing for a potions ingredient (and found Bundimuns), and honestly I can't remember how much about them I made up and how much is canon (I think they're mentioned to be used in cleaning products canonically...?)

But the point is more that this scene doesn't just flesh out the world, it tells u stuff about the two characters and how they interact. It tells you that Tom is very studious but doesn't like to revise his opinions, it tells you that the MC knows their shit, it tells you that Tom is suspicious (he instantly challenges them by referencing the textbook not saying what they're telling him), and it tells you that MC is a good bitch who would help out a dick like Tom just bc it's the right thing to do. It also shows Tom's flaws - his disregard of learning about other creatures/beings/people and the way they're treated in society tracks with what we know of his character, and I always think it's important to demonstrate (either directly to him within a scene or to the readers) that this is a stupid thing to do. In this case, his lack of interest in the struggles of others nearly fucked his own potion, he's only saved because MC 1) cares enough to read up about it, 2) sees the importance of revising formally formed opinions/understandings, 3) steps in to help him even though he probably wouldn't have done the same.

So that's soft world building, ya know, using these things to tell you about the characters, using knowledge and lack of knowledge, reactions, etc etc. Most of the details I make up are there to serve a purpose for the plot, but honestly that's just bc I'm writing short super condensed stories that don't have a lot of space for proper world building. In Seven Devils (and Mimicry to a lesser extent) I have a lot more of these details there to create an emotion/sense of the scene just for the sake of setting that scene, but that's for bigger works with more room to breathe.

Hmu if you want to know more but damn I DID write an essay huh 😅

#Anon #Ask #Writing #Mimicry #White dove

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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Star Trek Doctors, Ranked By Crankiness

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This Star Trek: Lower Decks article contains spoilers for Season 2, Episode 3.

In the very first filmed episode of Star Trek: The Original Series — “The Cage” — Captain Pike drinks itty-bitty martinis with the Enterprise’s chief physician, Dr. Boyce (John Hoyt.) And although it remains to be seen if we’ll be seeing Boyce in Stranger New Worlds, the tradition of the cranky — but wise — Starfleet doctor was started right there. After Boyce and Piper, Star Trek set the standard for cranky, wise-cracking doctors in space with the introduction of Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy; as played by the wonderful DeForest Kelley.

While Kelley passed away in 1999, the spirit of Bones lives on. Not just in the Karl Urban version of Bones in the reboot films, but also in the foul-mouthed, utterly hilarious Catian medical officer, Dr. T’ana (Gillian Vigman) on Star Trek: Lower Decks. In the most recent episode of Lower Decks, “Mugato, Gumato,” T’ana demonstrated some next-level crankiness, as she avoided her own physical examination, something Bones had to prod Kirk to do all the time, including his first-ever filmed episode, “The Corbomite Maneuver.” But is Bones actually still the crankiest Star Trek doctor? Has T’ana dethroned him?

The only way to find out is to rank all the Trek doctors from least cranky to most cranky, and find out who is the hardest to please, and as a result, possibly the doctor we paradoxically love the most.

(Note: With some exceptions, we’ve excluded characters who were Starfleet doctors who weren’t regular recurring characters. This is why Dr. Selar from TNG isn’t on this list, even though as a Vulcan, she’s inherently cranky.)

10. Dr. Tracy Pollard (Discovery)

The least cranky doctor on this list is easily Dr. Pollard on Star Trek: Discovery. This woman even puts up with Georgiou, a dictator from an alternate universe who wants to die. As played by the fantastic Raven Daudu, it’s very possible Dr. Pollard is the best doctor on this list. She also may never be recognized as such, because she’s really even-tempered, kind and way too busy saving people’s lives to complain.

9. Dr. Phlox (Enterprise)

Phlox isn’t just one of the nicest Star Trek doctors ever, he’s actively one of the most likable characters in the entire franchise. Played charmingly by John Billingsley in all four seasons of Enterprise, Phlox projected a childlike curiosity of the universe combined with a ton of knowledge and wisdom of having seen more of the quadrant than most of the other characters. Phlox is also, perhaps, the most tolerant Star Trek doctor, insofar as he never pushes his cultural views onto others, even though, in some episodes, like “Dear, Doctor,” he’s torn apart by his own set of ethics. Oh, and he saved the life of Porthos, Captain Archer’s dog in “A Night in Skybay,” AND while doing so, managed to make a joke that Porthos would develop lizard-chameleon powers in the process. That’s bedside manner!

8. Dr. Hugh Culber (Discovery)

Who doesn’t love this guy? Since Season 1 of Discovery, Culber has put up with shit from everyone, and very rarely has he snapped. Yes, in Season 2, after coming back from the dead, he was pretty pissed off at everyone. But, as he said in Season 3, “My murderer and I are good now!” In episodes like “Su’kal” and “Die Trying,” Culber is one of the kindest and simultaneously most practical Star Trek doctors of all time. He doesn’t lie to anyone, but he does know how to make you feel better. Out of all the Discovery regulars, Culber feels cut from the same cloth as someone like Deanna Troi or Guinan. He’s smart, insightful and empathic.

7. Dr. Beverly Crusher (The Next Generation)

Crusher certainly has the ability to sass her patients, but she’s basically a nice person. Whenever Crusher freaks out on anyone it’s always because she’s either in love with a ghost that lives in a candle (“Sub Rosa”), her feelings are being manipulated by a nearby Vulcan (“Sarek”) or Jean-Luc is messing around with her emotions. (All of The Next Generation.) Crusher suffers the fools she works with, but she does it with grace and dignity. That said, you kind of know she hates certain people in certain moments, which can probably just be attributed to Gates McFadden’s flawless talent.

6. Emil, Rios’ EMH (Star Trek: Picard)

Rios has a lot of cranky holograms in Season 1 of Picard, but his medical hologram is not even close to being the most difficult of all of them. In fact, he’s pretty cordigal, and reasonable, which is odd considering the situation he’s in. Clearly, among the holograms on the La Sirena, Emil is one of the most well-adjusted. You wouldn’t want him as your primary physician in real life, and because he’s basically connected to the personality of Rios the possibility that he might become super cranky is certainly there. But, so far, he’s right on the line.

5. Dr. Julian Bashir (Deep Space Nine)

Okay, we’re crossing over into slightly cranky territory here. Bashir began his journey on DS9 as a cocky jerk, which isn’t the same as the kind of crankiness we’re talking about here. The Bones-style of crankiness is the kind of crank we can get down with. Bashir’s off-putting personality was — at first — not something anyone admired or liked. That said, as Alexander Siddig evolved the character, Bashir didn’t become more cranky, but he did develop righteous indignation. When Bashir got his indignant buzz on in episodes like “Past Tense,” or “Inter Arma Enim Silent Leges,” he was really at his best. To be clear, Bashir isn’t a nice doctor, and this is where we cross the threshold.

4. Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy (Star Trek: The Original Series)

Although he set the standard for crankiness, in the entire canon of Trek, Bones is somehow not the most cranky Star Trek doctor. The reasons for this are threefold: First, there are three characters on this list who are much crankiner than him. Second, Bones is actually a sweetheart deep down, and demonstrates his love for Spock over and over again, despite his terrible, terrible comments. Finally, Bones can’t be the crankiest doctor on this list because Dax heavily implied in “Trials and Tribble-ations,” that one of her previous hosts — Emony Dax — totally hooked-up with him. For some reason, this detail makes it seem like he’s a lot nicer than he comes across. And again, The Search for Spock exists.

3. Dr. Katherine Pulaski (The Next Generation)

In 1988, Pulaski would have easily been number one on this list. She mispronounces Data’s name, doesn’t feel bad about it, and proceeds to kind of make everyone else on the ship feel awful. Pulaski is a pretty good doctor, and not remotely a bad person, but she’s pretty damn cranky. The brilliant Diane Muldar plays Pulaski like someone who has been transferred to a job she doesn’t really want, which is sort of amazing considering at this point, Roddenberry didn’t want Starfleet characters to have interpersonal conflict.

In “The Icarus Factor ” (which the latest Lower Decks also referenced) Pulaski also thinks Riker’s deadbeat dad is hot and tells Riker this point blank when he’s reminding her that his dad is the worst. This alone gives her deeply strange tastes, and makes her super cranky and weird AF. Don’t mess with Pulaksi! If you talk about how your friend is mean, she might throw it in your face and say she likes them better than you anyway!

2. Dr. T’ana (Lower Decks)

Okay. So Dr. T’ana is almost the most cranky Star Trek doctor ever. Combining the best qualities of Bones, with that weird go-shove-it-vibe from Pulaksi, Gillian Vigman turns it all up to 11. It helps that T’ana is a cat-person (I.E. the Catian species) but her crankiness is more than that. She’s kind of sadistic, and isn’t afraid to use boulders to knock “strange energies” out of people when the time comes. T’ana is sort of burnt-out, but also, is kind of unflappable too. Like, you get the sense that she’s sick of all this space sickness stuff, but she’s got too much proffensionality to say she can’t do something. The secret crankiness of Dr. T’ana is that seemingly she can fix anything that is wrong with anyone. But, she’s going to make fun of them for it, and get pissed off if you look at her the wrong way.

That said, like Bones, you get the sense that none of it is personal. Which is what makes her Starfleet all the way.

1. The EMH (Voyager)

Robert Picardo’s Emergency Medical Hologram is the best cranky Star Trek doctor. There are many reasons for this. His arrogance. His constant complaining. The fact that he has good reason to complain, considering he’s a hologram that has to do other people’s bidding. But the reason that tops all other reasons is the way that Picardo can make his crankiness clear with the simple inflection of his voice. It’s not what he says. It’s how he says it. And if you need proof, all you have to do is go back to the very first Voyager episode ever, “Caretaker.” When the Doctor has to start triage on the wounded crew, he asks somebody to hand him a tricorder. He looks at it, and realizes it’s not the right kind of tricorder, and hands it back and says “medical tricorder.” The amount of venom in this comment cannot be communicated in print. The way Picardo says medical tricorder is so dismissive and frustrated, that he basically created a new level of crankiness with one single utterance.

T’ana may be creeping up the EMH from behind, but this cranky crown will be hard to swipe. Especially from a hologram.

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The post Star Trek Doctors, Ranked By Crankiness appeared first on Den of Geek.

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rivalsforlife · 5 years ago

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on “unnecessary feelings”

it’s unnecessary feelings daaaay~ and I don’t have the time/energy to come up with any fic for today but I DO have thoughts on this scene and how it relates to narumitsu even though I don’t see it as being about romantic feelings at all.

So yeah. Obviously the wording is very... you know, some of the worst wording they could have chosen if they were going for a totally platonic interpretation. Like to the point I genuinely thought this was leading up to a love confession when I first saw it. But now, even as a major shipper of these two, I don’t believe:

a) Miles was in love with Phoenix at this point, and even if so:

b) He wouldn’t be aware he was in love with Phoenix at this point, and even if so:

c) He certainly wouldn’t walk up to Phoenix and tell him that!

But this conversation is still on my list of narumitsu moments.

At this point, this is... the second time Phoenix and Miles have had a one-on-one conversation in semi-private in fifteen years. Miles has only gone up against Phoenix in court twice; this is only the fifth day Miles has seen Phoenix since he was nine. But even such minimal interactions are enough to cause Miles to completely question everything he was taught and give him enough unease that he doesn’t think he can ever face Phoenix again without having his whole sense of identity shattered. (which... is kind of what happens, anyways.)

The core appeal of AA1 narumitsu for me is Phoenix saving Miles, not just in the literal “defend from murder” sense, but also by helping him get in touch with his humanity again, the morals and ideals he was forced to abandon. It’s about Phoenix saving Miles from his self-destructive spiral and facing him head on and demonstrating so much care and belief and trust -- either directly to him, or to others around him -- that it utterly shatters Miles’ toxic worldview and eventually brings some of the old him back.

And this conversation embodies that pretty well. Unease and uncertainty both suck in general as emotions but they are a common thing that happens when you’re human. It’s said pretty well in text (”Aren’t those kind of necessary?” / “They only serve to get in my way.”) but Miles... can’t allow himself to feel those emotions. The moment he starts feeling unease and uncertainty he goes down a spiral of “is what I’m doing right?” -> “Are the defendants really guilty?” -> “Did I really kill my father?” that he can’t allow himself to do. It goes directly against von Karma creeds of “perfection”.

But seeing Phoenix in the position he once aspired to as a child, defending the innocent, proving to Miles that the defendant really isn’t always guilty, stirs up those feelings in Miles, to such an extent that he goes out of his way to tell Phoenix to never show his face in front of him again.

I don’t know, it’s just... the whole idea of “you made me question this toxic worldview around me, filling me with normal human feelings such as unease and uncertainty that I am unaware of how to handle, and by doing so you will eventually save me from myself and these awful beliefs I hold and show me the proper path of truth and justice and trust once again” isn’t inherently a romantic idea, but... it does make a pretty freaking good basis of a love story in my opinion.

So yeah... as much as I might throw in the occasional joke about “unnecessary feelings” I do believe this conversation wasn’t meant to be about romance at all, and that fact actually makes it part of a better love story: the core of which is based around the reclamation of ideals of justice and belief and trust rather than just romantic feelings. And that is the appeal of narumitsu for me.

#narumitsu #wrightworth #ace attorney #my posts #I HOPE I WORDED THIS RIGHT...#unnecessary feelings #some people might read this and go 'yeah OBVIOUSLY'#but I have seem some things suggesting that this convo is abt Miles admitting he has romantic feelings for Phoenix #which is an okay interpretation of course!#I just don't see why that would be the case at this point #and it's much more fun to me this way when it's not about romance #but about the enduring relationship of trust + belief between the two of them #that I think is the core basis of what would be an excellent romance

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mira--mira · 4 years ago

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Not that BoAF would/has to end up like cannon, but if it did, imagine Child!Madara and Child!Hashirama time traveling to the future like in your other fic, except Sasuke’s and Madara’s fist meeting going quite different because....this Child has..Absolutely NO Idea How To Groom? His HAIR/FEATHERS. Are. A. DISASTER!!! And Madara’s adopt instincts activate before his fire instincts (Sai may or may not be blood 🩸 depending on what you want, but he’s still getting adopted with Shin) Also the village has forgot how,,,,Uchiha Uchiha’s are when, ya know, said uchiha isn’t repressing instincts because all of them remind him of the fact that his brother is the only other person alive (to his knowledge at least, i gotta say, I’m really curious to how Obito is doing having to act all not uchiha to keep cover, especially with how their chakra is different then other fire types ) with said instincts and the village isn’t exactly encouraging. Also would Sasuke with a lightning affinity meet Kakashi earlier in this world since...y’know, one element each. Speaking of this, does Obito still have Mokuton? Plus his fire affinity? Because he has the cells, or would it just function as an arm/leg/other body organs/areas?

Okay, this got crazy long so I put it under a readline LOL.

ajkdljsld BoaF is going to take a sharp right turn and kiss canon goodbye, but this is such a cute idea! Even more so bc if it’s the kiddos at the current chapter of BoaF...they’re nine. Madara is three years younger than Sasuke and I can just imagine the shenanigans that would result. (Tbh if events followed exactly the same Madara and Sasuke would end up with a similar relationship they have in OoT right now, but if they met before Naruto introduced them/under different circumstances it could work out quite differently.)

He’s nine and this boy is obviously three years his senior, but that Does Not Matter. Sasuke tries to escape, but Madara (and Hashirama) follow him around like ducklings. Very judgemental ducklings who criticize everything he does. You’re just going to run a comb through your hair once? You’re not going to return my affection after I haven’t seen you all day? You’re not going to observe proper eating rituals? You’re not going to dance properly? You’re not going to have bonfires/flicker competitions/sing?

Sasuke snaps at one point bc obviously there are no other Uchiha to do this with and (if we’re working on a weird BoaF-canon fusion universe) the traditional cultural practices have fallen out of favor. Madara, aghast, solves the problem the best way he knows how. Adoption. Even if technically Sai and Shin are too old by Uchiha custom, desperate times call for desperate measures. In BoaF it’s very unusual for the Uchiha to live alone so Madara would 100% insert himself and Hashirama in Sasuke’s home. Their relationship is a bit...odd as Madara very clearly tries to take on the role of an older brother when he’s just...not. Sasuke’s annoyed but refuses it’s nice to have something other to focus on, he reconnects to his culture more, and he’s never had a younger sibling so he tries to assert himself as the older brother. He still...freaks out a bit with Madara’s skill level and it takes some time to work through it but bc of their age difference it’s less “this is another rival I have to beat” and more like “this kid is weirdly strong and that’s upsetting to my progress but I’m more worried about Itachi coming back to kill him.”

Hashirama is just there, chilling, and if it is the 9 y/o version of him, Itama hasn’t died yet and he and Madara technically haven’t talked about making the village. So all of this is weird and strange, but so amazing and this is a great idea!

Obito would have to take measures to control his chakra and makes sure it doesn’t slide into overflow territory but he should be able to manage to do that decently well. If there’s a sensor among the Akatsuki it might raise some...interesting questions about his chakra signature and how much it resembles Itachi’s. This would be a big problem when he masquerades as Tobi but might actually help his claim of being the Uchiha Madara. As for physical appearance he would choose to cut off his memorial beads and pluck his feathers (which, by BoaF’s customs is tantamount to rejecting the clan altogether) and Itachi would do the same.

If canon did play by BoaF’s one element rule, there is a p good chance Sasuke would be introduced to Kakashi (or another raiton user but lbr it’s gonna be Kakashi bc he also has the Sharingan) earlier. The Academy would probably have days where teachers/jonin were invited to demonstrate their own elemental specialties. This would probably have lasting repercussions on the three-man genin team dynamic, and it’d be pretty common that when assigning teams they’d try to match elemental affinities if the graduate expressed an interest in pursuing that specialty specifically. Even then it’d be pretty common to have switch days where genin with different elemental affinities go learn from a jonin/teacher.

#naruto #madara uchiha #madara #sasuke uchiha #sasuke #hashirama senju #hashirama #Birds of a Feather #Out of Time #timetravel!au #my fics #asks #anon

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blindrapture · 4 years ago

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a union-mandated break post

(okay, let’s see if I can type this all over again after losing the post. gotta remember how it all went.)

Hey there, the few mutuals who Like all of my posts, the lurkers who occasionally make their presence known, the lurkers who I also hope are there, and all you folks who come across this post naturally before scrolling on (that’s fine too, please have a nice day! remember to take a deep breath and unclench!). I wanted to make a post giving a casual update.

Things have been going. You know how it is. Time proceeds onwards at a pace that is a crawl to some and fleeting to others, depending on relative perspective. The average of all these observations may be Objective Truth, a hazy mythical and abstract prospect which to this day no living human has ever known (due to the nature of perspective). We still try to know it for some reason, an endeavour which may be “a good thing” or “a condemnation of our species,” but that’s relative too. See above. Still, it is possible to take an approximation of what we figure this average to be and find ourselves (mis)balanced on a knife-edge in between all perspectives. This narrow path, the knife-edge between fast and slow, between good and bad, between ecstasy and despair, seems precarious at times, yet at other times is like a garden, wide and spacious enough to sit awhile. Our perspectives cover this garden from us with the shrubbery of Can’ts and Shouldn’ts, and the way to the garden is fraught with the misty cloud of Look-Like. And yet, ultimately, these shrubs and mists are but prismatic scenery colouring our time on this Earth, a perspective which is easy to see from within the garden. The Earth is brown and grey and immortal, though wearing an impermanent coat of blue and green. One day, we will slip out of our perspectives and return to the Earth, join her mounding’s mass, and that will be death.

So that’s the weather. Sometimes cold, sometimes mild, sometimes wet, sometimes dry, sometimes bothersome and sometimes the only backdrop I could ever want. I’ve been up to the usual, cycling between interests like a bat between haunts.

- The other day I got around to playing Smile For Me, an experience which took me about three hours to more-or-less complete 100%. Really cute game, I fell in love with all the characters, and the budding horror elements made me excited to see where it’d go.

- Currently I’m playing A Monster’s Expedition Through Puzzling Exhibitions, a game often cited in the same breath as Baba Is You and Stephen’s Sausage Roll. I think those two games are puzzle masterpieces, and A Monster’s Expedition is hitting me in the right spot. It frequently fills me with awe, which is impressive considering the game is just a long series of oblong block-pushing puzzles. It has scope, though, and it has the guts to hide that scope from you until you’re able to discover it for yourself. I’ve played for about 10 hours so far, beaten over 200 islands, and yet I feel I’m only getting further away from the end goal. Hard to describe. It’s a good game.

- When I’m done with that game, next I’ll be checking out Spelunky 2. I’ve wanted to try the original for a long time but never got around to it; I picked up the sequel. I know very little about the games (with a rough idea of what gameplay is like), and I intend to keep it that way for as long as I can. I like games that rely on discovery.

- Book-wise, I’m, y’know, reading Finnegans Wake as I fall asleep, occasionally inching through other books too, but my main reading focus at the moment is The Familiar. I went and picked up a new copy of Volume 5, and I found the Volume 3 I had kinda lost for a while, so now I have the full Season 1 again. And it’s been long enough since I read any of them that it’s finally time to reread them. As a unit this time. I am... so happy to be in their headspace. I’m currently in the second act of Volume 1, taking in a lot more details this time (and I do still remember a sense of where the whole plot goes), really cherishing the commitment to physicality and aesthetic. There’s not many authors out there like Danielewski. House of Leaves kickstarted my book obsession, y’know. And The Familiar is about as grand as a project can be. It’s supposed to be 27 volumes, each one 900 pages long, and the design of these books is goddamn sublime. The publisher only let him do the first 5 volumes, which is sad, but luckily those 5 volumes make up a “Season,” so they’re still a whole thing, a complete story arc for each of the nine protagonists, and plenty of secrets and details that give a good sense of the true scope. And did I mention the series is fucking scary? Profoundly so, each new volume weaving you deeper into its conspiratorial web of eldritch coincidences and patterns. The story is full of cats, immortal cats, God-cats. There’s a scientist who keeps a freaky magic orb and is known as Wizard. There’s an Armenian taxi driver who’s one of my favourite characters. And you can probably get all the volumes Used for fairly cheap on Amazon now. ........please, somebody join me in loving this series.

- Creative-wise, I’m working on music as always, putting notes next to each other until I get a result I can do something with. There is one piece that’s definitely done, a collaboration between Lindsay and I, but it’s going into Nine Is God so you won’t hear it just yet. Speaking of, that’s coming along. I haven’t even started making any codes or cool connections yet; I want to finish the... Core of this update first. Let’s be deceptive and call it the Main Blog. I have proven to myself that I definitely can do this; I keep stumbling on new mechanisms I can add, and I have a pretty vivid idea of what the whole thing will look like. It’s gonna be maybe a decent size for a Blog, all told, but it’s the form of the thing that mandates a lot of care. Luckily I have made Viceking’s Graab, so this isn’t the first time I’ve done something this mechanically ambitious. ...look, just. Of course I’m excited to Actually Talk about this thing, but like with the Graab, its nature requires me to keep it secret until players finally discover it for themselves. I like making that kind of thing, I want the sense of discovery, of climbing up a hill only to reach the summit and see an even bigger mountain looming over you that you hadn’t realized was there. Like Frog Fractions, or its sequel, even if you know there will be more than meets the eye you still get surprised and filled with delight. This concept fits neatly into an ARG format.

- Oh, also, I’m super excited for the Braid remake. It’s gonna have a comically thorough amount of developer commentary, and that’s all I want from this world. It’s even coming to Switch!

Media can be used as a tool to assist with the experience of life, and that is the way I want to approach things. I have spent time adapting myself to feel comfortable in these boring aesthetics (of understated puzzle games, thoughtful pretty books, blogs as art) because this means I am less susceptible to getting burned out during contemplation and self-examination. It may seem like a matter of taste, but taste is relative too; it’s not hard-wired, it can be adjusted, it does adjust all the time under the hood. ...I don’t know where to go with this one, other than that I should be careful not to condescend. I am not above anyone, I am confused too. I just.. like confusion and mazes, and I try to speak these aesthetics in an approximation of how I see others talk about theirs.

Right. I think that’s the bulk of it, that’s what I wanted to say today. I hope you are holding on, reader. It’s a wild and lonely world out there, and it’s our world; it’s yours just as much as it’s anyone else’s. You are important to it.

I leave you, mysteriously, with an old Genesis song. It’s called “Can-Utility and the Coastliners,” which is a silly way of saying it’s a song about the myth of King Canute. Sick of flatterers claiming he was equal to God, he went to the sea shore and said “If I truly am equal to God, then let the waves halt at my feet!” They didn’t. An astute demonstration, but it just prompted his flatterers to praise his ingenuity. “But he forced a smile, even though his hopes lay dashed where offerings fell.” I’m not really sure how the story ends. But it’s a wonderful song, starts off very folks-y but quickly takes a left turn down Mystery and Beauty. And it’s freaking Genesis.

See ya.

#rambles #at least they're not tag rambles this time #can't believe i managed to remember that whole ramble about relativity and objectivity and the garden in the middle #though amusingly i guess i really just remembered........ *an approximation* of it. :3

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jolgan · 4 years ago

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Something Wicked Comes to Stay

Intro/Summary

Prologue

Rating: T

Warnings: teenagers making out, demons, knives, identity crises (plural), existentialism, strong language at times, violence (teenagers attacking each other in a controlled environment, mentions of gang violence, oh yeah, demons), Teen Angst and other dumb teenage bs

Word Count: 1551

Chapter: 2/?

Chapter 1

The integration of Magic School was met with varying degrees of concern and outrage from students and their families. But, even so, the decision was already made, and demons were admitted. Even with extra safety precautions put in place by the Elders, many families pulled their children from the school. Instead, they chose to educate them themselves or to send them to public school. The Halliwell family wanted to do the same, but the oldest students refused. CeCe was the most adamant. She argued that because she attended Magic School for her entire education she would not fit in at a public school. She had never been in a classroom with non-magical students and she was uncomfortable with the idea. Besides, all her friends were at Magic School. Chloe and Adam Halliwell agreed with their cousin and stood with her. Their parents did eventually yield, but the agreement was conditional. The three oldest cousins would be allowed to continue at Magic School, but they had to demonstrate they could use “the power of three.” This was a ridiculous stipulation. It was impossible. They were not the Charmed Ones. They weren’t even siblings. The only hope they had was that each possessed one of Melinda Warren’s powers.

Specific powers alone were not enough, the cousins soon found out. Over the summer they went through brutal training. They had to learn to fight together, what each of their strengths and weaknesses were and how their powers worked together. They did have a close relationship from being so close in age and growing up together, which helped, but it was still bitter work. Their parents conjured “replica” demons for them to fight. The difficulty of each battle increased. The pressure came to a head when one training exercise ended badly. While fighting a replica brute demon, Chloe was seriously injured. The trauma of seeing his cousin in that state awakened Adam’s healing abilities. He was able to save her without intervention, but that was the final straw for Wyatt, who believed they were pushing their children too hard to achieve something that was impossible. P.J. also had growing concerns with the intensity of the training they were forcing their teenage children through. “My daughter almost died tonight because of your “training” exercises. Your son is probably traumatized from seeing her like that,” She argued to Chris. “My child is my problem. Besides, it would have happened eventually. It’s probably better that it happened now than later,” Chris reasoned. “If this is too much for them, then so is going to a school with evil students,” he finished. Overhearing this exchange, CeCe and Chloe came up with a plan. They were going to prove to their parents that they could manage demons and use their own brand of “the power of three,” they just had to get Adam on board. The girls went up to CeCe’s room to find Adam lying on her bed, his arm over his eyes. “You okay?” Chloe asked him, as she and CeCe sat on the edge of the bed. Adam groaned and his arm slid back to his side. He looked at Chloe. “Are you okay?” he asked seriously. She nodded. “Of course I am. You healed me,” she assured him with a smile. The three teens sat in silence for a few moments before CeCe broke it. “We came up with a plan,” she said, waggling her eyebrows. Adam tensed for a moment and sighed. He never was a fan of their schemes. “What kind of plan?” he asked her reluctantly. “I’m glad you asked,” she giggled, almost evilly. The girls explained their idea to their wide-eyed younger cousin. He stared at them in disbelief. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight,” Adam said. “An hour ago, you almost died fighting a fake brute demon,” he said as he looked at Chloe. “And now, you freaks want to summon a real one to try and vanquish it. Do you have a death wish? Do you need to talk to someone?” he questioned. “Come on, Adam, you can heal now!” Chloe said proudly. “I can’t heal you if I’m dead! I can’t heal you if you’re dead!” he all but screamed. “Okay, okay. Keep it down. We don’t want the parents to hear,” CeCe shushed. “Listen, I am not going to public school next year. I am going back to Magic School even if it means I’m going alone. You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to. I’ll just do it myself,” she said as she started to get up. Adam caught her wrist. “Wait,” he gave in. “You don’t have to manipulate me. I don’t want to go to a human school either. I’m in.” CeCe’s face brightened. “Yes! You are the best cousin ever!” she exclaimed as she and Chloe both attacked him with a hug. “Yeah, yeah. Get off me. You two owe me for this,” Adam said pointedly. “I’ll give you my notes from Wiccan History and write all your spells for you this year,” CeCe offered. “I’ll help you with potions and tell you if any of your crushes like you back,” Chloe promised. “Deal,” Adam grinned. “Okay, great. Call for the book.” CeCe told him. “What? What if your mom is using it and it just orbs out by itself?” he asked. CeCe rolled her eyes. “She’s out of town, the only other people here are our parents and they are currently arguing downstairs. Get the book,” she pressed. Adam sighed and held out his hands. “Book of Shadows,” he called. The book appeared in his hands with a swirl of white light. “Let’s get to work,” Chloe cheered. With that, their preparations began. They studied the Book of Shadows and found every scrap of information that was available on brute demons. Unfortunately, not much was available that they didn’t already know. They had to write both a summoning and a vanquishing spell, which was more difficult than they thought, especially since they couldn’t really practice them. They could only make sure that they were as specific and accurate as possible, and pray that they worked. The cousins were very thorough. They went over every detail and every possible thing that could go wrong and made back up plans to cover that. If the vanquishing spell didn’t work, they hoped that CeCe’s combustion power would be enough, but during their potions lesson with Grams the next day, they brewed a potion that replicated it just in case. “Hey, Grams?” Adam asked, flipping to the right page in the book. “Would it be possible if we could make this one today?” “Why?” Grams eyed him suspiciously. “I’ve always been jealous of you and CeCe. I want to know what it’s like to blow something up! Besides, you wrote the recipe for it right?” His words were dripping with feigned innocence and flattery. A slow smile spread across Grams’ face. “Yeah, okay,” she agreed, but the suspicion never left her eyes. She wasn’t born yesterday. Adam sent a covert wink to the girls when Grams was distracted. After they brewed and played with the potion, Chloe made sure to stash a few vials in CeCe’s desk drawer. The next part of the plan was to perfect using the crystal cage. This was purely to be sure that they could get the job done before they got attacked and things started going wrong. It would be humiliating if they needed their parents to bail them out. Adam and CeCe both orbed to the attic late at night so he could practice sliding the last crystal perfectly in place. When they felt confident enough, they put their plan into motion. One evening after training, they set up the crystal cage in the conservatory. Chloe called their parents into the room and joined Adam and CeCe, potions already in hand. When their parents arrived the three of them began summoning the brute. When he appeared, Adam slid the last crystal in place using his power. The brute began to fight to escape from his prison. The cousins joined hands and recited the spell they wrote together to vanquish him. The demon burst into flames signifying that their spell had worked. The cousins reacted excitedly, thrilled that they were successful. When they were done celebrating, they looked over to their parents, who were wearing varying expressions of shock and amazement. “Did our fifteen-year-old kids just…” P.J. stammered. “Mine is fourteen,” Chris stated. “Was that a brute?” “I didn’t think there were spells to summon or vanquish brutes,” Wyatt pondered out loud. The older Halliwells were impressed with their children’s performance, but that didn’t save the teens from a lecture about how recklessly they behaved. By the end, they admitted that the cousins had proved themselves and they would be allowed to stay enrolled in Magic School. CeCe, Chloe, and Adam were thrilled. Of the nine magical Halliwell children, three remained at the school and the younger six were pulled out and sent to public school. The oldest three cousins were excited to see what it would be like to go to school with demons. Excited, but also terrified. It was a thrilling mix of emotion. They couldn’t wait for school to be back in session.

**A/N** I wanted this to just be a nice little recap and then to get right into the story, but they had other ideas. I am but a vessel, so who am I to argue? The boys are coming next chapter I promise!

#charmed 1998 #charmed hq crossover #haikyuu!!#SWCtS #future magic school AU #all photos from google dot com #OCs

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argylemikewheeler · 5 years ago

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|| i saw this post and just had the idea of will freaking out at mike for being tall-- but of course that’s not really what it’s about. just something short and sweet (literally) for you || ao3

It’s in the grocery store that Will just snaps at him. Will’s going shopping for his mom after school. It’s no big thing; Will enjoys the time alone. Except of course, it’s the last day before spring break and Mike’s skipped the last day of school and driven up to see him. Mike’s an extra set of hands to help brings bags into the house, and he’s not too bad of a driver to man the cart.

When Mike pulls up to the house-- just as Will’s grabbing his bag and getting to Jonathan’s car-- he looks so different. His hair is just a little shorter-- cropped and kept, just how Ted likes it, but with Karen’s kind influence of letting him be, Ted, come on. The main thing, at least to Will, is that he’s taller. The man is taller. Will feels his neck crack as he tilts back, just a little. He didn’t shrink, but when Mike runs up to him, he swears he did.

When Will is silent and stares at him for a while, Mike replies that he’s six-foot-two. Which is fine. It’s fine. It’s just that Will is five-foot-six still. But whatever. It’s fine.

Will kind of forgets about it-- forgets about how his new friends call him small. not short but small; how his new doctor is worried he’s stunted from all his “medical trauma” and is trying to talk his mother into having him take steroids; how he secretly likes being the same height because he knows his mom can’t afford buying both him and El new clothes; how he hates that the first thing people notice between him and Mike isn’t even that they’re two men since Will’s short enough to match people’s perception of what “normal” couples look like. Will just forgets about it. And for a while it’s nice.

Mike doesn’t know jack shit about vegetables and Will teaches him how to pick fruit that is just the right amount of unripe so it will last longer in the fridge. Mike pushes the cart and nods, at least pretending he’s enjoying the lesson. It’s 1988 and Mike places his hand on Will’s back when he stands and stares at the wall of soup cans, trying to read prices and brands quickly. It’s 1988 and Will doesn’t even watch how he says “Michael”. It’s a nice outing until they get to the cereal aisle.

It is nearly cleaned out, all the extra boxes up on the top shelf in disorganized storage stacks. Will groans and steps up onto the bottom shelf, his hand straining as he feels around for a box of something. His ribs are pressed to the middle shelf and he tries to keep from swearing. There’s an older lady with two young kids that’s been watching them since they arrived in the aisle-- Mike’s hand gently finding Will’s-- and Will doesn’t want to give her any ammunition to start shouting.

“Would you like some help, Will?” Mike laughs and grabs him under the arms. He hoists Will nearly like he’s weightless, helping him step down to the floor again.

Will sighs. “Yes.”

“What do you want?” Before Will can answer, Mike is sliding box after box down and placing them on the shelves in front of Will’s eye line. “I’ve got ‘em all.”

“I just needed the Cheerios, thanks.” Will grumbles, taking the box and tossing it into the cart. He pushes the cart and they leave the woman’s stare. He feels tense all over again. He forgets to keep forgetting about it-- about everything-- for a moment.

“How do you do this without me.” Mike is simply trying to tease him-- be verbally affectionate when his hands can only jostle his shoulders. “I need to think about moving up here you don’t have to struggle every time you just want to buy something--”

“Shut up, Mike.”

“W--What? What did I say? Was it that you’re short? Because... Will, we know this. It’s my favorite thing about you, you know that.”

“I don’t really want to hear it right now.” Will isn’t aware he’s clenching his teeth until he hears himself speak. “Being small is kind of not my favorite.”

“Oh, but-- It’s fun! You fit right under my arm and you don’t really need to steal as much of the blankets when we sleep--”

“Mike.” Will tries to drop out from under Mike’s arm: he placed it around his shoulders to demonstrate his point. Will is suddenly very aware that they’re two men, even if from every other angle no one seems to notice because he’s... a full eight inches shorter than Mike. It doesn’t feel great to be able to excuse homophobia because he’s as short as a girl. “Mike, please shut up.”

“What?” He’s sincere, but he’s still very confused. He still thinks it’s about being short. He doesn’t move his arm. “OH, well, actually I do hate the whole you-get-to-steal-my-clothes-thing. But if those are the reparations--”

“Would you just shut up, Tall Boy!” Will snaps, twisting around to face Mike. They’re in the middle of the baby section, where no one would be likely to stumble into them.

“T-Tall Boy?” Mike laughs, but he’s still trying to figure out that Will’s genuinely upset. “I-- What? What happened? Did I say something?”

“Yes! Stop talking about how short I am. I hate it.” Will doesn’t know why but he chokes up a little. He pretends he needs to be looking at plastic sippy cups. They look so out of place when the older lady and her children come strolling past. “I hate remembering I’m short.”

“Remembering.” Mike repeats. “Do you... forget?”

“El grew four inches in like... two months.”

“Okay...”

“Mom had to buy her new skirts and jeans because they got too short, too fast. It was the middle of winter and her ankles were so chapped-- She worked another two shift to pay for it.” Will’s breathing is choppy and it’s so stupid. Mike is silent, but because he’s listening, which is still weird for Will to think about.

“Okay. So short is good. You’ve got all your clothes and you’ve got all mine if you need it. And I’m sure Steve’s got more stuff that’s up your alley. It’s okay. Will, it’s okay. I won’t let you go cold.” Mike places his hands on Will’s shoulders, his thumbs brush against his neck.

“They say I’m small at school.” Will pushes through. “Small. You know what else is small? Babies are small. Mistakes are small. OH and you know what is usually small? Girls. Girls are small-- except my sister. Who’s giant--”

“She’s only like... five-nine.”

“Mike.”

“Sorry, literal perspective I see is not the point here.” He nods. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s just-- People don’t think you’re gay sometimes.” Will realizes this doesn’t make sense to anyone but him.

“Uh. That’s... I’m not sure that’s our fault.”

“Well, see, it’s my fault. From a distance, I look like your girlfriend. Not a very, short short man.”

“Well, that’s not your fault. People are blind and weird and straight. That’s not-- You’re not a girl, Will. You definitely aren’t a girl nor look like one or act like one or-- You just aren’t. Being short is not a fault!”

Will sighs and leans into Mike’s hand. “You’re supposed to say that. You’re my boyfriend.”

“I could complain-- would you like me to?” Mike says with a smile. His eyebrows are still furrowed though: he’s upset. “I hate that you can fit comfortably on any bed we share. I hate that... You sometimes can buy kids’ shirts? Because they’re always cooler. Like, you have one you bought as a painting smock that has a freakin shark on it and I gotta say... Men’s clothes, not as cool! I’m less cool as my art school boyfriend because I got tall too quick. Dude, that sucks. I want to be cool like you!”

Will is definitely crying, but he doesn’t acknowledge it. He laughs and smiles. He hopes it makes up for his sniffling. “You think I’m cool?”

“Yeah! My cool, short boyfriend. He’s awesome and he’s super nice because he... worries about the socio-political meaning of him being short. Like. He’s so smart. So smart.”

“He’s the only one who knows what the hell a mango is in your relationship.” Will says, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah! Concentrated intelligence!” Mike reaches for Will’s underarms again. He catches Will’s smile before jokingly hoisting him an inch off the ground. “He’s better because of-- everything, but right now let’s say it’s because he’s not a six-foot-two monster who hits his head on every door frame in his house.”

“Oh my god-- is that what that bump is from?” Will hiccups, laughter nearly scaring him. “Oh, Michael, you poor.... tall thing.”

They laugh in the baby aisle until Will’s face is less red and puffy. As they walk, Mike makes jokes about the weird names of food brands. He offers to get Will things on all shelves, just being a helpful partner rather than a shopping giraffe. He repeats Will’s name every time he speaks to him and someone is in earshot. Will smiles and each time calls him a sappier and sweeter version of “Michael”. Will finishes shopping and feels rather accomplished as they pack the car up.

He forgets about everything again for a while. Everything but Mike. Well, Mike, but more importantly how he makes him feel: so happy, so listened to, so short. And it’s all okay. It’s nothing. Just one small thing in a short life full of so many wonderful, loving things.

#byeler #byler #mike wheeler x will byers #stranger things writing #this could have a trans reading bc ya know *i* wrote this but like take it however you want #just something i wrote during my essay break #prompts

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luna-almighty-god · 4 years ago

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Guardian Angel N°9 [No passion could be greater than mine]

Hello everyone, this is chapter nine !

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

Lingering in the darkness, not thinking. Not to think about his growing terror, his suffocating spirit. Forget the pain, the long, nagging suffering that gripped his heart. Not to think anymore, to close himself off. To no longer exist.

To push away his horror.

The nightmare suited him so well though. Wasn't it his symbol, his whole being? That darkness that had consumed him from within for years? The latent darkness of his soul, his emotions he couldn't allow to escape.

For he was made only of darkness. The same darkness that frightened him. And as the death knell of silence struck him, he searched in vain for air, a way out, a way to heal his wounds. A way to heal his distorted mind that screamed at him... screamed... screamed...!

[ Screaming at him to wake up.]

His eyes widened in fright, bringing him back to reality. The coldness of the room hit him hard, his bones cracking brutally, vibrating with a rage that threatened to explode.

Bile rose up his throat. He became livid, he straightened himself up and threw himself on his sack. Without understanding, without trying to know, without paying attention to what was around him, he could only feel his salty and burning pearls that escaped his gaze, which moistened his face in half-stifled sobs.

His fits were becoming more and more present, too, much too present. And the mere thought that time was running out for him, without knowing exactly how much time he had left, once again failed to make him implode, to destroy the barrier he had erected around his soul.

He chewed the apple with force. The taste never seemed as vile as that day, giving him only one more reason to regurgitate what he had in his stomach.

But he remained of marble, partly in control of his body. His physical suffering didn't matter too much to him at that moment. There was another element that worried him much more than that.

He was asleep. He fell asleep more and more often, for only a few minutes, but ...

It was still abnormal.

[ Nyx wasn't supposed to sleep ]

*** ***

Ink was stamping his feet, mad with joy and impatience, while a huge smile had taken place on his face. Sitting on Nyx's bed, he forced himself to remain calm but his excitement was far too great: the secret club was open again and started again its ultra-secret meetings ! Well ok, he was getting a little bit excited by himself since this 'secret club' only existed in his mind.

But in any case, being there in the presence of Nyx and Nightmare brought back wonderful memories - well, it was all relative.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” grunted the impatient nightmare master. He'd been pulled from his important files and was hoping to expedite this 'meeting' and get back to work.

Nyx, scribbling at his desk, laughed again:

“Cross must also comes.

- What? Why? Nightmare wondered.

- He could be useful to us.”

At the same time, the door opened to reveal the swordsman, who blew with difficulty and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve:

“S... sorry...have to sow... Horror ...”

This time, Nyx allowed himself to puff. It was true that he had asked the monochrome to come here without being seen, but he didn't expect the other one to take such precautions.

“No problem, thank you for being so careful!”

Cross gave him a smile before collapsing on the bed, exhausted, trying to ignore the gaze of his superior. Ink clapped his hands, overexcited:

“So, tell us everything! How are we going to help these new lovebirds?”

Nyx took a new sheet of paper to draw up the plan:

“The first step would be for each of us to admit that we love the other. Horror seems to be in full denial and refuses the idea of loving Dust, while Dust seems unwilling to think about love.

- Maybe they don't love each other, Nightmare grunts. Love isn't a necessary part of life, you can be happy without going out with anyone.

- I don't doubt it and I agree with what you're saying. Maybe deep down, they're just very good friends. But I have to admit that I have doubts when I see them doing their movie night from time to time, or when I see how well they know each other and can guess the state of the other with a simple glance. The other day Horror wasn't on his plate and Dust noticed it immediately, unlike us. Afterwards, as I said, they may only be very good friends.

- They say that a perfect couple makes two best friends.” commented Cross.

Nyx's smile widens:

“I've heard about it, yes. Look, I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable, nor do I want to force Dust and Horror to be a couple. Maybe we can just put them in situations that will demonstrate whether or not they love each other? Then we'll see what happens.

- And what kind of situation?" Nightmare asked, sensing the trick coming.

- Jealousy!” Ink exclaimed.

The master of the house grunted:

“Is this a joke?

- No! Think about it, if they really are best friends, they'll support each other in going out with their loved ones. But if they're in love, they'll be jealous and won't let each other date!

- That's stupid.

- In what way is it stupid? You'd let Killer go out with someone else, wouldn't you?”

The air suddenly vibrated under the charge of a violent negative aura. The eye of Nightmare began to glow with an icy light as it shot the artist in the eye:

“No way.”

Ink chuckles:

“Ah, you see!

- Tch, shut up!”

Cross sighed while casting a jaded look at Nyx, looking for some support in the drawer's gaze. But his blasé look turned to surprise when he saw Nyx's face. Nyx was watching Ink and Nightmare with a broad smile, as if their childishness made him crazy with joy.

Cross held back any comment, but it goes without saying that the situation left him forbidden.

It was Ink who ended up bringing back the lack of seriousness of this meeting:

“Well, how can I make them jealous? The two of us should get closer to them, shouldn't we?

- Indeed," Nyx confirmed by becoming neutral again. One person will have to hang out with Dust, especially when Horror is around. Physical contact is preferable. As for Horror, it will be better to encourage discussion and laughter. Thus, I think the most qualified will be ...

- ...you.” cut off Nightmare.

Nyx was startled and had great difficulty in regaining his usual neutrality. His gaze struck that of the prince of nightmares as the latter approached with a sly smile:

“You're always being clever without doing anything direct. It's time for you to participate in your plans. Especially since there's no way I'm going to intervene.

- But, you know...

- Killer's going to freak out on me, and I didn't have a hard time proving my feelings to him just to lose him to some bullshit plan. So, you get off your ass and deal with it yourself.”

[Alone]

Nyx used violence to keep himself from flinching.

[Alone]

His faint smile returned as he ignored the pressure on his soul:

“All right, I could probably handle Horror.

- And I Dust.”

Nyx was astonished, as were Ink and Nightmare, who turned their heads to Cross. He had straightened up, massaging his neck with embarrassment:

“Ink is also in a relationship”, he justified himself. “I don't really want Error to come back and blow us up.”

The Creator went into a frenzy of laughter:

“Ahah, it's true that Ruru is terribly jealous!

- Ruru ? relieved Nightmare. What a nickname for...

- Oh, stop being such a grumpy Nighty!

- Nighty?!”

And they left in a squabble, under the jaded and amused gaze of the other two. They finally decided to separate, just to go back to their activities so as not to attract attention.

But when Cross last came out of the room, he was apostrophized by Nyx:

“Thank you”, he said.

The monochrome tilted his head to the side:

“Why, he said.

- For devotion to you.

- Well, you weren't going to handle it by yourself anyway!”

They exchanged smiles, but Cross couldn't help but shudder. Shivering at the strange look in Nyx's eyes, a warm and grateful look. Yet he hadn't done much, had he? He had only offered to help him!

“W-well, I'll go!” the swordsman let go with embarrassment before moving away quickly.

Nyx just nodded his head and watched him turn into another corridor. His smile became painful, he lowered his eyes, clutching his coat where his soul lay:

“... Cross ... why do you always have to protect me ...?”

***

He collapsed to the ground, his skull smashing against the concrete in a terrible, morbid crack. His soul twisted, twisted so violently that he felt his stomach compress, and before he could realize it, he vomited unidentifiable contents, a black and viscous liquid that came to form a vile pool. His face was undone, marked by tears and wounds, and painfully straightened as he struggled with a coughing fit.

“L-Leave him! I beg of you, let him go!” he sobbed, unable to get up, only being able to observe Ink holding Plum by the collar.

The Creator cast an impenetrable gaze upon him, empty of all life, observing him the same way he always does: as if he were nothing. Nothing but the accumulation of his mistakes.

Nyx leaned on his hands and yelped in pain without turning away his tear-fogged gaze:

“He-He didn't do anything! I forced him! He had nothing to do with it!”

Plum was livid with terror, trembling on all sides without daring to intervene, holding his breath miserably in the face of growing apprehension.

Ink took a step towards his son while strengthening his grip on Plum:

“You're going to make me believe that you, who is at the mercy of everyone, who is mostly chained up in a cell, who is worthless... You forced Plum, one of Nightmare's subordinates, to have a relationship with you?”

Nyx remained silent, his throat tying itself in front of his father's gaze, his pupils turning slowly red:

“Hilarious... Really, really...”

A grin appeared on Ink's face and he gently sneered:

“So... So hilarious...!”

His laughter grew louder and more terrifying as his pupils began to alternate between red and yellow, more and more rapidly and uncontrollably:

“Do you think I'm a jerk?!”

Plum coughed as he felt more pressure on his throat, while Nyx petrified in horror. And Ink, who laughed like crazy as his pupils turned an icy blue, used his foot to crush his son's skull against the ground.

“YOU ARE STUPID! STUPID STUPID STUPID STUPID! YOU STILL DON'T GET IT, DO YOU? THIS RELATIONSHIP IS NOTHING BECAUSE YOU ARE NOTHING! YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE EXISTED, YOU SHOULD NEVER HAVE BEEN BORN!”

Plum widened his eyes, suffocated, searched in vain for air as his body tried to struggle, to free itself from this monstrous hold. Nyx felt a twitch, tried to get up, but his father's foot struck him violently in the skull, holding him down in a state of semi-consciousness.

And Ink, whose pupils had now disappeared, reaped the joy of his son's distress:

“Ah... ahah ... Pathetic and miserable... so that is what you have inherited from me.... ?”

The fracture sounded like a mirage, a distant sound. A distant sound but yet so close, too close, too violent.

Nyx's soul seemed to shatter. For a split second, he saw the neck of his soul mate break.

Then there was nothing but dust.

Nyx opened his eyes, his mouth open in a scream without the slightest sound escaping him.

[Plum was dead]

It was just a nightmare.

[Plum was dead]

He wasn't supposed to.

[Plum was dead]

He couldn't sleep.

[Plum was dead]

Why... ?

[Plum was dead because of him]

WHY WAS HE SLEEPING AGAIN?!

Nyx stuck his teeth directly into his wrist, ignoring the creak that echoed against the walls, narrowly choking a new scream that escaped him, choking the storm that roared in his lair, choking his rage and sorrow, his anguish and guilt, ignoring his pupils that shot between red and blue, ignoring ... ignoring ... ignoring ... ignorant ...

He sobbed, closed his eyes...

...and cowered a little more in his sheets.

[He wouldn't sleep.]

*** ***

The noise of the hotplates filled the kitchen like every morning, and like every morning Horror thought he was the first one up and had started breakfast for the whole castle. And like every morning for several weeks now, Nyx came quietly to join him at the table, watching him with attention and curiosity.

Aren't you fed up with it?" Horror growled as he did every time. Seriously, do you find it so hard to sleep in the morning?"

[If he knew...]

Nyx smiles:

“And you? You don't have to get up so early either.

- I always go to bed very early, so I wake up early. That makes sense.

- Yes, it makes sense.”

Horror was uncomfortable. He could feel Nyx's gaze on the back of his neck and it was destabilizing him, as always. He grunted, concentrating on his pancakes:

“Don't you want to doodle instead of looking at me?

- My apologies, I just admire your work.”

The cannibal stopped moving, blinking in amazement. His head turned towards Nyx, without him daring to believe what he had just said:

“...you? Are you in admiration?”

Had he known Nyx a little better, he might have detected the embarrassment that had taken hold of him.

Holding his gaze with embarrassment, the cartoonist nodded:

“Yes. You're hardworking and talented.

- ... Well, I just get up and cook, that's all.

- You're the only one in the castle to do so. Not to mention your dishes, which are a delight! Really, I never get tired of tasting them!”

Horror raised an archway:

“Yet it's nothing too complicated. The basis of the basis what. Here, make some pancakes yourself, I'm sure no one will see the difference between yours and mine!”

But Nyx's suddenly discombobulated mine silenced him, and even though the black-boned one quickly regained an impenetrable air, it was too late, Horror had understood:

“Nyx ... Can't you cook?”

The drawer hiccupped, his face suddenly taking on a soft mauve color, a sign of intense embarrassment. He sharply averted his eyes, hiding part of his face in his scarf:

“Indeed, I've never tried it...”

Which made Horror laugh. A bright and frank laugh that bothered poor Nyx a little more:

“I know it's ridiculous, but please don't laugh ...

- Ahah, sorry, really! But admit it's funny! You, who spends your time looking perfect and giving advice, now I learn that you don't even know the basics! How were you raised? By overly loving parents who didn't teach you independence?”

[If only he knew]

Horror's laughter died at the sight of a tense Nyx, trembling, as if the words spoken had violently shaken him.

Horror suddenly realized that he had probably said something stupid, and anxiety took hold of him. Damn it... When he said that Nyx looked perfect, it wasn't a joke. Nyx really seemed perfect, leaving the impression that he was always in control and that he excelled in everything he did. So why did... why did he suddenly seem on the verge of tears?

“N-Nyx...?”

The cartoonist was startled, as if from his own thoughts. He loosened his scarf and turned back to Horror, returning to his usual expression. An expression that suddenly seemed quite false to the cannibal.

“Excuse me, I was thinking!” Nyx replied with a slight smile.

Horror felt his soul squeeze. How many times had his comrade found himself playing the comedian, to appear so sincere in his lies?

“... okay. You want me to teach you how to cook this time?”

Nyx tilted his head to the side:

“.... Doesn't that bother you?”

The cook had a smile on his face:

“Of course he didn't.”

The black-boned one hesitated for a long time, then laughed:

“Well, why not? It might be fun!

- Yeah. Let's do it tonight?

- Yeah, perfect!”

Yes, the evening was fine. That would give him time to... do what he had to do.

*** ***

Maybe he was paranoid. No, not "maybe"... Nyx knew he was paranoid. He was always, every moment, despite his apparent calm. But it was stupid, he didn't have to be anymore. He didn't have to be, did he?

[There was no longer any danger.]

Of course you had to be suspicious. But from there to watching everyone at all times?

No, no, that was stupid. He had to stop. The others were right: he paid too much attention to their private lives. He was getting too involved in lives that no longer concerned him.

But, um... (Sighs)

He watched with a keen eye the breach he'd opened up in front of him. A breach that allowed him to see the whole world of UnderLust, especially a familiar skeleton that was walking around the streets looking like nothing, a shopping bag in hand.

Sugar Plum was still as beautiful as ever. No, it wasn't. No, it wasn't. He was even more beautiful than before. Nyx could not help but melt in front of his resplendent smile, his joy of life that emanated from his whole being. Because Plum had now blossomed: freed from his hated work, he had dared to confess his feelings to Grillby only to discover that they were mutual, and so he fell in perfect love with the fireman while finding a quieter job to earn a living without selling his body.

A sweet victory for Nyx, who enjoyed seeing the other skeleton finally live a life he liked.

[A life he wasn't a part of]

His smile cracked as his soul cracked.

Yes... Here, Plum didn't know him. At least he only knew him by sight, if he hadn't already forgotten him.

“... Ahah... What I expected... ?”

Nyx had a nervous laugh, passed a hand over his undone face. He had prepared himself from the beginning, knowing that he would go from disillusionment to disappointment, but each bad surprise managed to make him feverish, to weaken him a little more.

It was silly, wasn't it?

He knew the consequences. He had decided on his own to change the course of events, and each of his choices had led him to a painful conclusion. Seeing the way that timeline had unfolded, he realized the sad truth: everyone was much happier... without him.

[And ironically, thanks to him]

He's still laughing, a bitter laugh. You'd think his life would never stop being ironic.

His gaze returned to Plum as he entered an alleyway, probably with the intention of going home. Silent, Nyx continued to follow him with his eyes, moved by the vision of the one he had loved so much, and still loved so much ... before he frowned at the sight of three monsters.

Plum seemed to have been ambushed. Oh, it wasn't the first time. Many monsters had a hard time swallowing the fact that 'their' fetish prostitute had run away, but usually they would attack when the skeleton was in the company of his brother or boyfriend, or simply when he was in full control of his magical abilities.

But this time it was different. Plum had spent an exhausting day and found himself alone on his way home, surrounded by monsters greedy for violence and sex, in a dark and deserted alleyway...

Nyx's blood only made one turn, he didn't ask himself the slightest question: a gate had already opened in front of him and he rushed in without waiting, to land directly on one of the assailants, smashing his face against the asphalt with gentle violence, without killing him.

Plum widened his eyes, surprised by the sudden appearance of his saviour, while the other two monsters retreated in fright.

Nyx offered them a mischievous smile:

“Gentlemen, if you'll allow me to attend the party...”

The monsters simultaneously grunted, threw themselves on the black-boned skeleton who quietly dodged them, moving with ease as if dancing, only to end up turning on himself and making a mocking curtsy to his opponents.

It was not his purpose to kill them. Only to scare them away.

The humanoid dog that he had put down got up grunting, his nose bleeding. He was the quickest to return to the charge, but Nyx only had to step aside for his opponent to explode his fist against the wall, screaming in pain at his visibly broken hand.

It was simple. These opponents were no match for him.

The other two monsters were a giant religious mint with sharp fangs and a humanoid rabbit that came and attacked him with a metal bar. Nyx dodged for the umpteenth time before suddenly disappearing into the shadows of the alley, leaving his enemies panicked and watched around them with apprehension.

Neither thought to look at their feet, and it was only too late that they saw their own shadows move to make Nyx appear to be grabbing their ankles, before firing a sharp blow to knock them to the ground. The skeleton disappeared again, leaving the three oddballs moaning in pain and incomprehension, and crawled out of the shadows near Plum :

“Are you all right?” he hastened to ask, madly worried.

Plum was startled and turned sharply back to him, stunned:

“Y-Yes! But are you all right?”

A lovable question that brought a tender smile to Nyx's face:

“I feel much better when I see you in one piece... Be careful when you go home alone.

- Yes, I'm sorry...”

Plum sighed before smiling shyly at him:

“Thank you very much. I didn't think ... I didn't think I would ever see you again.”

[ "Neither do I." ]

Nyx remembered this answer which reminded him of the horrible night he had spent.

But you can't erase the past.

“I've come to believe you're a guardian angel!” Plum laughed softly.

Plum used to visit him in his cell

“I love you, little angel...” he whispered to him.

Nyx stopped breathing, assaulted his memories once again, frozen, disconnected from time.

A poor mistake.

[He should have remained suspicious]

He perceived the attack far too late, had just enough time to push Plum before he suffered a violent pain, shuddering when the religious mint stuck its fangs in his wrist.

[The wrist he bit in the night, which he hadn't thought to treat]

Nyx vrilla. This suffering awakened a deaf terror, an impulse that seemed to break the limit he had set for himself.

His pupils disappeared.

Shadows metamorphosed... ...into black, slimy tentacles. Tentacles that skewered the mint with a sharp blow, making it scream in horror before it fell into a pile of dust.

The other two froze in horror at the sight. Fearing they might be the next targets, they ran away without asking for the rest, horrified.

Nyx returned to him.

A cold sweat ran down his face.

He turned his head, feverishly, to Plum, who sat on the floor and watched him in amazement and confusion, his face livid:

“N-Nyx... you...”

The black-boned one retreated, terrified of his own reaction, terrified of the dust he had caused, terrified of his pupils, which he knew had turned blue.

He swallowed.

He threw himself into a new portal.

His body fell heavily on the floor of his room. His erratic breathing, unable to control his jolts, he rolled himself into a ball against the wall, could not choke the sob that escaped him. He brought his broken wrist against his chest, trembling all over, the pain making him want to vomit.

[Pathetic and miserable]

He closed his eyes, clenched his teeth, his soul beating far too hard.

[He shouldn't have existed]

He needed it. He needed it more and more, more and more.

His able-bodied hand grabbed his bag blindly.

The touch of the apple seemed to him more painful than ever.

He bites into it once. Just once.

The pressure was too much.

He burst into tears.

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Dreamtale-> Joku

Error -> LoverOfPiggies

Ink -> Myebi

Killer -> Rahafwabas

Cross -> Jakei

Dust -> Ask DustTale

#Guardian Angel #undertale fanfiction #undertale #fanfiction #errink #nightkiller #horrordust #horror #dust #killer #nightmare #cross #bad sanses #nyx #vantablack #inkmare #sugar plum #sans

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christinesficrecs · 5 years ago

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Bottom Derek (Sterek) MasterList

This fic rec idea was shamelessly “borrowed” from qhuinn’s original bottom!derek list which is much older and sadly contains a ton of broken links now. I attempted to mesh her list with fics I love but it turned out to be a MUCH bigger project than anticipated. As most things with me are :p

Anyways, here are 100 bottom!derek fics. The mature or explicit rating is implied for all the fics that follow. We can only hope that I did not post the same fic twice!

I Do Do You? by Captain_Loki. Explicit. 6540 words. Stiles and Derek wake up hung over and married in a hotel room in Las Vegas. It wouldn't be so bad if the year before their relationship hadn't fallen apart.

One Night Pancakes by literaryoblivion. Explicit. 5643 words. Derek loves his kids. He does. But… every once in a while he needs a break from them. It’s natural. It’s totally fine. He needs some “me” time occasionally. It’s allowed, okay?At least this is what he keeps telling himself when he drops the kids and their overnight bags off at his older sister Laura’s house.

Nine Times Out of Ten by lielabell. Explicit. 4613 words. Part 2 of the Mating Habbits series. Nine times out of ten, Stiles is the one being pushed back on the bed with his head tilted back to expose his neck. Nine times out of ten, Stiles’s legs are the ones that are spread, his hands are the ones that grip the sheets. Nine times out of ten, Stiles gasps and moans and arches up into Derek’s touch, Stiles’s thighs grip at Derek’s hips; Stiles’s feet lock together behind Derek’s back. Nine times out of ten, Stiles takes and takes and takes and loves every single second of it. But the tenth time … The tenth time is different.

Take my Twist with a Shout by toomuchgawking. Explicit. 2889 words. Derek thinks that Stiles might enjoy topping the first time they have sex. Stiles is a little blindsided by how much he agrees.

Anatomy of a Werewolf by idyll. Explicit. 1533 words. Written for a prompt by descendingspiral on Tumblr, who asked for: Stiles needs to focus on studying for his Anatomy class. Derek volunteers his body.

Bank Windows by Moonbeam. Explicit. 2236 words. All human banking AU smut. Derek is a bank manager and Stiles is an irate customer. Best way to solve the problem? Sex against a window!

First Snow by Moonbeam. Explicit. 26341 words. In the future Stiles and Derek finally get together. One night Stiles wakes Derek up because it is snowing, they spend the following week enjoying the snow like Stiles did with his mum as Derek and Stiles try to move further in their relationship as the past keeps coming back to make it harder.

Melting in your vice dreams by hito. Explicit. 7445 words. Written last month for derekstiles. Scott and Stiles accidentally discover Derek’s secret New York career in porn.

I’m betting this wasn’t beta tested by dancinbutterfly. Explicit. 7870 words. Derek is thrown into a violent heat in the wake of Lydia and Peter’s actions at the end of Party Guessed. Debilitated by his own needs, Derek reaches out to Stiles, the only person he wants and can hope to trust.

Hyper heart alone by hito. Explicit. 34570 words. When Stiles returns home to help his father recover from an injury, he discovers that things have changed somewhat in his absence: Derek is working closely with Stiles’ father, around the house and underfoot, generally annoying and disconcerting Stiles with his presence. Well, Stiles isn’t sure you could call all the sex they end up having annoying, but he isn’t really willing to call it anything else, either.

The ETA from you to me by Rawren (Deshonanana). Explicit. 105038 words. In which Derek drives a tow truck and Stiles is the weekend dispatcher who attempts to woo him with his lack of a brain-to-mouth filter and affinity for run-on sentences.

Hypothetically: Wolfsbane by JenNova. Explicit. 7086 words. “So,” Stiles says, resting his elbows on his knees and settling his chin in his hands. “Hypothetical then: one of you guys gets dosed with some sex wolfsbane – how do we deal with it?”

I’ll just entertain myself by entanglednow. Explicit. 2942 words. Stiles is really bad at sitting still once he’s got an idea in his head.

Muérdago by starbolin. Explicit. 17674 words. “Mistletoe was often considered a pest that kills trees and devalues natural habitats, but was recently recognized as an ecological keystone species, an organism that has a disproportionately pervasive influence over its community. In Norse myth, an arrow made of mistletoe was the only thing that was able to kill the god Balder. The goddess Frigg had asked all other things to vow not to hurt Balder, but she had ignored the mistletoe because it seemed too small to be dangerous.”

Happy Endings by kototyph. Explicit. 2761 words. Stiles is a masseur, and very good at what he does. Derek was not expecting this.

Hypothetically: Potion by JenNova. Explicit. Sex Pollen. 9415 words. “Potion,” Stiles says, his eyes clearing as he focuses on Derek. “In a cup.”

This Time With Feeling by Crimson1. Explicit. 36132 words. “Derek Hale, if you refuse to learn from your past…then you will be doomed to repeat it.” In which Derek is turned into a 16-year-old and has to stay with Stiles until they figure out how to turn him back. Eventual slash and smut, set post season 2, semi-AU.

Won’t You Be My Mate? by Unloyal_Olio. 6228 words. Derek could just ask, but he’s not very good at that. Better to demonstrate.

Oh What These Headlights Have Seen by pterawaters. Explicit.2820 words. Derek’s boss is spoiled, demanding, and far too attractive. Or, the one where Derek is a mechanic and Stiles owns lots of cars.

Not Enough Postage by ecarian. Explicit. 5247 words. Derek doesn’t know how to ask for things in bed.

A Californian Werewolf in New York by dancinbutterfly & knight_tracer. Explicit. 16314 words. When Derek finally realizes that there’s nothing left for him in Beacon Hills, he goes back to New York, gets a life, falls in love and finds his home. (A podfic/fanfic collaboration)

You Make My Heart Beat (Faster) by lady_ragnell. Explicit. 2611 words. Stiles listens to Derek’s heart. Warnings: light medical kink, brief references to violence and past character death.

The Skies Above Are Blue by Trelkez Mature. . AU. 95258 words. Derek is a wedding DJ. Stiles just happens to go to a lot of weddings.

It’s a break, not a vacation by dancinbutterfly. Explicit. Sequel to A Californian Werewolf In New York. WIP. 4296 words. The anniversary of the fire sneaks up on Derek. So he follows his instinct and leaves Manhattan to get to the one thing he really needs to survive the worst week of the year, Stiles. Unfortunately, that puts him in Beacon Hills - the worst place he could possibly be at the worst possible time. Yeah, Derek didn’t really think this through.

Exceeds Expectations by Captain_Loki. Explicit. 1411 words. Stiles had had greater let downs in his life…But losing his virginity to Derek Hale was still ranked atop a decently long list.

The Way I feel by elisera. Explicit. 10332 words. “Okay, go away,” Stiles says loudly to make sure that Scott and Erica can hear him over Derek’s growling. His hands are so slick with blood, he keeps fumbling his keys, barely managing to unlock the Jeep and get out his emergency duffel. “Leave him the fuck alone for a bit.”“We’ll go and take care of the corpse,” Scott says, taking the duffel out of his hands and unzipping it for him. He holds out a towel to Stiles, looks him up and down. “You’re sure you’re fine?”“It’s not my blood,” Stiles snaps, wiping down his hands, arms. Fuck, even his face and throat are slick with it and he really, really wants it off. Derek keeps circling them, eyes fixed on Stiles and his body’s still trying to shift back onto four feet, the bones and muscles bulging outwards against his skin and Stiles has no idea why Derek’s freaking out this badly.

Hunger by bigboobedcanuck. Explicit. 2918 words. There are no vampires in Beacon Hills. Until now. “Let him go.” Derek manages to keep his voice steady, although he’s aiming for cold and detached. “I’m the one you want. He’s just a human. What can he do for you?”

Thank you for my sex life by wearing_tearing. Explicit. 6630 words. Later that week when Stiles gifts Scott with the biggest chocolate cake he can find - the words thank you for my sex life written across it - he can’t help but think that maybe he should listen to Scott more often.

Like Falling by wearing_tearing. Mature. 13191 words. In which Laura kills herself on the five-year anniversary of the Hale fire, Stiles convinces Derek to take him on a road trip, some things feel like falling, and everyone gets more than they bargained for.

Not Your Typical Alpha by halcyon1993 9904 words. Derek is an unusual alpha. He doesn't want some omega to hang off his knot but to hang off of someone else's. The only problem is that no other alpha is willing. Until the new dildo he orders is mistakenly delivered to his neighbour.

Track My Every Movement by derekstilinski. Explicit. 6660 words. Derek has had a lot of problems with his past, especially centered around sex. Over the years, Stiles has helped him through so much, and this is a big test of everything they’ve worked on.

Now Your Smile Comes Over in Your Voice by talktowater. Explicit. 19021 words. Part two of Love Comes in Spurts series.

What you do to me by verity. Explicit. 1566 words. The first time they had sex, it was the full moon, and things went very quickly from Derek talking to Stiles as Stiles flipped through the grimoire that Derek had brought down to Davis to Stiles rimming Derek on the bed, cupping his balls until Derek came all over the sheets, half wolfed-out, dick untouched, and deeply confused.

Jinx Removing by DevilDoll. Explicit. 6271 words. "Derek wished he would sit down or take his jacket off or something; anything that would indicate he was going to stay for more than a few minutes.“ This is an alternate universe version of the apartment scene in my story Love, Like a Sentence of Death.

I Wish That I Could See You Soon by talktowater. Explicit. 23606 words. Derek Hale is one half of indie duo Girls and the Dogs. He spent his late teens drinking and fucking his way around small clubs over the world, but now he is sober, sick of touring, and has rules. Or one rule at least. No hook ups on tour. When the guy with the impossibly tight t-shirt who calls himself Stiles follows him back to his bus one night after a show in London, he’s in no danger of breaking his rules because as Stiles quite categorically states, he is straight. Right… good luck with that Derek…

The Great Pretender by talktowater. Explicit. 45275 words. Stiles is the new kid at Beacon Hills High, class of 1958 and he’s trying to make an impression. Derek can’t figure out why this kid is so set on making such a bad one.

Absence Makes the Dick Grow Fonder by tylerfucklin. Explicit. 4191 words. Stiles frowned, “…do you want to hang up?” This time, Stiles could hear the hitch in Derek’s breath, and it was enough to give him the courage to ask, “do you want me to tell you what I’m doing?” “what are you doing?” Derek croaked lowly. There was the sound of a door closing on the other line, followed by the creak of bed springs. “Fucking into my hand,” Stiles blurted with a groan, his body getting hot just thinking about Derek lying on his bed back in Beacon Hills and touching himself, “thinking of you.”

All the Way to the Bone by otter. Explicit. 6514 words. Stiles wanted Derek to be happy, and he wanted Derek to be safe, and these things were as obvious and visible as the tattoos on Stiles’ skin, the shapes that Derek could trace now with his fingers without even looking.

DTF by Captain_Loki. Explicit. 2156 words. It’s nearly midnight when Derek gets the text, phone buzzing against the mattress beside him. Horny: DTF?

Navigating This Space Between Us by Omni. 9641 words. Derek gets forced to watch some sci-fi show about a surly, secret prince and the sarcastic young spaceship captain hired to aid him on his quest. Strangely enough, he finds himself hooked on it. So much so that he's even drawn into the fandom. There he meets a popular fanfic author with an oddly endearing attitude, and he gets rather smitten. Maybe this mystery guy could actually help get him to stop pining for Stiles...

Tell me how all this, and love too, will ruin us by queerly_it_is. Explicit. 12381 words. Derek doesn’t get why he likes it so much. It’s just not – he hadn’t expected to need this. Not from Stiles. Not from anyone, ever. He doesn’t do this. Except he does, now. Because it’s for Stiles, and Derek – fuck, he likes it too.

with metal on our tongues (we’ll be dressed in rags) by Rena. Explicit. 18848 words. Double-oh agents are a piece of work; Stiles knew that before he became MI6’s new quartermaster. It’s cool, he survived Lydia in college, he can deal with stubborn, reckless, trigger-happy operatives. Derek Hale, though, is definitely trying to live up to his predecessor’s legacy and make Stiles’ life more difficult. AKA the one where Derek is 007 and Stiles is Q and they bitch and angst their way to a Happy Ending.

Dwells Amidst Your Walls by the_ragnarok. Explicit. 11441 words. Scott accidentally sells Stiles’ virginity on Craigslist. (Derek wins.)

Peer Pressure by betp. Teen and Up Audiences. 1615 words. Stiles squirms under the weight of Chris’ arm. "Can you let me go now? I have shit to do." "He has shit to do,” Chris tells the group, grinning. “Very busy, very popular. Can’t even answer a simple question, he’s too good for that. I hope he knows what we do to kids who’re too good to talk to us. In which Chris is fancied some kind of maligned star in Sterek’s union, and is thwarted by being above the influence.

All The Things I Learned by JenNova. Explicit. 2642 words. Kate Argent taught Derek two things. Never trust anyone outside his own species. Sex is power.

If I Had A Wish (Or Even A Choice) by ladyblahblah. Explicit. 3892 words. Stiles has a preference for written porn. He also has a thing for Derek’s voice. So when Derek finds his erotica collection, this is clearly either the best or the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

What You Think You Know, You Don't by Brego_Mellon_Nin. Explicit. 4501 words. Derek is in the kitchen when he hears the teasing start up again. He can feel his wolf roaring under his skin, wanting to defend their mate, but he stays put. Stiles has asked him to let it go, so he will.

The Pickup Line I Deserve by hannah_baker. 4227 words. Derek Hale has a type: tall, lanky, pale, brunette, passive. Stiles Stilinski is nearly all of those things - but not quite.Or, The Time Derek Hale's One Night Stand Was More Than He Bargained For.

Just Act Normal by zosofi. Explicit. 78677 words. If someone had told Stiles back in high school that he would be an Oscar winning actor by the time he turned 25, he would’ve probably told Scott to punch them. The thing is, though…they would’ve been right. Which makes returning to Beacon Hills, center of all that is supernatural and better left avoided, all the more awkward.

My Regrets Are Few series by secondstar. Mature-Explicit. Around 7000 words total. There was no way that Stiles was rolling over for Derek Hale, absolutely no way. He didn’t care if he was the Alpha, because Stiles was no werewolf.

You Don’t See Straight by annber. Explicit..174981 words. Stiles finds himself in a secret werewolf community to participate in a mating run. Sterek happens. Side OC’s.

Oh, The Places We’ll Go Series by KeriArentikai. Explicit. 18934 words.The five friends sat at a table in the student union building, laughing over their fast-food lunches."Okay," said Jackson, "which prof would you bang?""Hale," Erica, Isaac and Stiles all said together. No one was surprised at their answer.

Gravity’s Got Nothing on You by zosofi. Explicit. 84031 words. The one where the Hale fire never happened, Laura is a nosy sister, Derek is desperate, and Stiles is the only one that can help.

Stick Around by siny. Explicit. 9245 words. Stiles and Derek are always arguing about stupid silly things, but it gets worse every time Stiles gets hurt. or The first time that Derek admits that he loves Stiles. Will Stiles ever admit that he loves him back?

Stolen by Firenation. Explicit. 99099 words. Derek first meets Stiles when he’s fifteen years old, just after the fire, and realises that he’s his mate. You can picture the kind of joy that follows.

Enemy Lines by qhuinn. Explicit. 149179 words..This is the story of werewolf Derek Hale and human Stiles Stilinski: two people who grew up in the same town but completely different worlds, their realities split by the war between men and wolves. Years later when Derek returns to Beacon Hills, he does it as Alpha of a military pack on a mission to capture those responsible for the region’s resistance. With his main objective, Sheriff Stilinski, out of sight, he settles for the next best thing: his son, Stiles. Neither of them suspects they’ll need to trust each other if they want to make it out this alive.

First Date by Onlymystory. Mature. 15125 words. Stiles has Danny set him up with a date. But Derek’s reaction ensures the night ends very differently.

Shaken and Stirred series by secondstar. Explicit. 15350 words. Stiles is the voice in his ear and the man in the glasses behind the computer screen. At the end of the day, he’s the only one Agent Eta trusts.

The Sweetest of Words (Have the Bitterest Taste) by Omni. Explicit. 9902 words. Five or so years after the show. Stiles is in college, and finds himself getting stalked by a succubus. Derek’s determined that the best way to thwart her is to prove that he and Stiles are madly in love. It’s not really as much of an act as either seems to think.

Bubbles by always_addicted. Explicit. 58195 words. Stiles knew he was in trouble the minute his father sat next to him with *that* look on his face. But he didn’t expect the words “Governor Hale’s son” and “arranged marriage” to come spilling out of the Sheriff’s mouth. But really, he should’ve known it would be bad. He just couldn’t imagine anything worse.

Never Cage A Rabid Wolf by tty9. Explicit. 49734 words. Stiles is sent to prison, and guess who his cellmate is?

Your Majesty by grimm. Explicit. 22291 words. It wasn’t like he was a pro or whatever, but like any teenage boy he’d spent a lot of time jerking off, and there were a lot of people on the internet that liked watching that sort of thing. And while the idea of doing actual porn - like, porn with another person’s dick in his ass porn - kind of made him uncomfortable, jerking off by himself in front of a camera sounded okay. If you’re good at something, never do it for free, right? Based off a prompt asking for Stiles as a cam boy and Derek lusting after his hot virgin bod.

You Set My Soul Alight by Captain_Loki. Explicit. 5135 words. Derek finds Stiles’ toys…basically Stiles + Derek + Dildos.

Plus One by Moosey. 44838 words. “Dude, I can’t show up solo to my ex-girlfriends wedding. I can’t do that,” Scott stressed, his face arranged in an expression that was almost comically anguished, like one of those weird, sad-face, tragic drama masks.“So we find you a date,” Stiles shrugged, as though it was no big deal. Scott was adorable, in reasonably good shape, and probably the best guy Stiles had ever known, or would ever know. He wouldn’t have any real issues with getting a girl.“Stiles, it’s in two weeks. Two weeks. How do I find a girl willing to date me, and come abroad with me to my exes wedding, in two weeks?!”

Finger Bangin' by Hatteress. Explicit. 3464 words. Stiles starts bringing drumsticks to Pack gatherings, sitting himself on the edge of the group to tap out maddening rhythms on his knees as the werewolves train. The first time he’d pulled them out, spinning one stick in a showy twirl between his fingers, Derek had actually staggered a little, missed a basic move, and ended up on his back blinking up at fucking Jackson, of all people.

the one where Derek gets high by nighimpossible. Explicit. 1167 words. What it says on the tin. Derek needs to find a way to relax, and Stiles is more than willing to assist.

his descent was like nightfall by nighimpossible. Explicit. 2328 words. Derek is drowning. The creature that calls itself Stiles drags him ashore. (nymph!Stiles)

Special Collections by hannah_baker. Explicit. 16423 words. Stiles Stilinski is a senior in college working on his thesis. Derek Hale is the grumpy (though inhumanely attractive) special collections librarian. All they needed was a common interest to spark a friendship that becomes more than either of the bargained for.

Hold Your Breath and Count to Ten by secondstar. Explicit. 6611 words. Stiles is the voice in his ear and the man in the glasses behind the computer screen. At the end of the day, he’s the only one Agent Eta trusts.

Bogarted by HalfFizzbin. Mature. 3126 words. Alternate Title: "Dick Failwolf, Private Eye." (Or, Derek’s hit with a Film Noir curse, which forces him to narrate his own life in luridly-detailed prose.)

Politics of a Scandal by qhuinn. Explicit. 17097 words. The one where Stiles is the hottest new media consultant in the business and Laura Hale desperately needs his services. She’s about to launch a campaign for Governor of California and her brother, Derek, is a media nightmare waiting to happen.

You Might Just Find You Get What You Need by TWCooper. Explicit. 11254 words. Derek is one of the highest earning escorts at Peter’s Menagerie, where the roster of beautiful men and women are ready and waiting to give you everything you want. When Lydia calls begging him to cover for her with their biggest client he isn’t expecting to find himself in the hotel room of Stiles Stilinski, genius and billionaire founder of premier social networking site FriendSpace. What starts as a simple job providing companionship soon has Derek struggling with his own desires. Feelings that his profession has forced him to lock away come to the surface as he risks losing himself to his latest client. Sometimes what you want is what you really need.

Finally Know The Difference by GotTheSilver. Explicit. 12512 words. In which Stiles is working at the bar his dad owns and Derek Hale returns to Beacon Hills with a guitar slung over his shoulder.

One-handed Typing by Omni. Explicit. 6857 words. Stiles makes a cyber sex buddy who supposedly looks like a dark-haired version of his favorite character on his favorite show. Which, coincidentally enough, is also what Derek looks a hell of a lot like.

Alpha Complex by Hatteress. Explicit. 3354 words. “Hold still,” Stiles says, hand clamping down on the back of Derek’s neck to keep him from turning and it’s laughable, really – the thought that that would be enough to hold him. Except it is. Because Stiles’ fingers are gripping the nape of Derek’s neck, pressure sure and hard and Derek- Derek can’t fucking breathe.

Can’t Stand the Heat by LuminescentLily. Explicit. 14149 words. Still hopelessly in love and too dense to realize they both feel the same, Stiles and Derek have to try and deal with their feelings as hunters decend on Beacon Hills and Derek goes into heat at a most inopportune time.

A Mating Moon by unpossible. Explicit. words. 37354. “Hey, Scott, so, I uh, there’s this amazingly hot guy and I’m uh, gonna spend the weekend with him but, you know, just to be careful, I’m sending you his picture, so if by some terrible chance my bloated corpse shows up sometime Monday, just, y’know pass this along to the authorities.” He pauses. “Uh. Kidding?” and then hangs up with a rush of air. “That is the worst voicemail in the history of voicemails,” Derek says.

Make A Little Noise by JenNova 1757 words. So the first time Stiles got Derek on his back, worked him open and pressed inside with the long exhale of a perfect fit, he wasn't expecting the sound. Sure when they exchange handjobs, or blowjobs, or any other kind of orgasm, Derek can get a little vocal – sometimes even demanding in a hesitant sort of way – but the deep moans, the sharp grunts, the cursing and the constant use of Stiles' name was not expected.

Mauve by bleepobleep 7380 words. It’s been ten years since he’s seen Derek Hale, but Stiles would recognize that ass anywhere.

Kintsugi by artemis69 7866 words. Derek is too big, and strong, and a werewolf. He knows perfectly well what men are and aren’t allowed to be.Stiles would beg to differ.In which there are pretty boys, flowers, panties, glitter, and Stiles gives a heartfelt fuck you to the concept of toxic masculinity.

Married at First Glance by WonderWolf 63558 words. Married at First Glance gives its participants seven weeks. Seven weeks, starting when they meet and marry their “perfect match”, to decide if they want to stay married or divorce.For Stiles and Derek though, the challenge lies within trying to pretend that they don’t absolutely hate each other’s guts. When you’re married to a werewolf who dislikes humans, however, this can get a little tricky.But the sweet, sweet cash reward at the end will be worth it. Right?

Getting To The Bottom Of It by KaliopeShipsIt 17031 words. When Deputy Stiles Stilinski's new boyfriend Derek refuses to bottom for him, even though Stiles is one-hundred percent sure he secretly loves it, Stiles draws the wrong conclusions and their relationship implodes spectacularly.Little does he realize that Derek's refusal has nothing to do with toxic masculinity hang-ups or his trust in Stiles and everything to do with the fact that he's hiding two very furry secrets.Cue kidnapping, rogue Omegas, and life-changing revelations.

Something More by kaistrex (weishen) 19148 words. When Derek and Stiles stumbled into a friends with benefits relationship purely by accident, they weren’t expecting it would one day save their asses when a threat from Derek’s past comes knocking. All they need to do is pretend to really be in love to avoid an arranged marriage agreed to years ago with a pact of blood. Considering they hadn’t bothered setting up boundaries when the ‘benefits’ first started, it’s no surprise that the lines begin to blur and Derek’s eyes are eventually opened to a truth he hadn’t been ready to face.

The Unicorn In Me by Emela 18570 words. Derek touches a Unicorn and it doesn't try to kill him, despite the fact he is no longer a virgin. When Peter tells the pack about Kate, Stiles makes it his mission to give Derek the kind of relationship he deserves.

Moved on from Whispers by wishingonalightningbolt 5346 words. He’s not dumb. Out of everyone in the school, Derek is second in grades only to Lydia Martin, and the only reason Stiles is third is because he’s taking more APs than Derek, so his grades are suffering the slightest bit. That’s why Derek knows, when Stiles arches an eyebrow at him, why what he said was so incredibly dumb.Stiles didn’t break into Lydia Martin’s upstairs bathroom to take a piss. He broke into Lydia Martin’s upstairs bathroom while Derek was in it, because—because of reasons.

Cornerstone by Vendelin 83738 words. Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

my heart’s been offline by thepsychicclam 58893 words. 31/M/New York. Rich, lays in bed all day, likes to read (aka Derek Hale, son of an Oscar winning actress, brother of one obnoxious reality star and one rebellious fashion designer, hates the paparazzi so much he's a recluse)26/M/California. Boring office job, likes to read (aka Stiles Stilinski, co-owner of a 100 acre organic farm with his dad and two best friends, writer of obits for a newspaper, has absolutely no life)Or, where Derek and Stiles meet online, and Stiles has no clue Derek's part of a famous family.

Muffins As A Declaration Of Intent by JenNova 3731 words. “Top or bottom?” Stiles asks, off to Derek's right.“Bottom,” Derek says automatically, not really looking at him. “Wait, what?”

Stand Here At The Edge Of Something New by Chiomi 3233 words. This is Stiles’ last night of freedom before he’s married to a man he hasn’t seen in over a decade - not even photos, not even Facebook. He intends to make the most of it.

The One Where He Pitches And Catches by mikkimouse 4272 words. Derek entered the conference room, spotted the table with "M. P. Stilinski" on it, and stopped short.Oh fuck.It most definitely was not going to be fine.Sitting on the other side of the table was the most attractive man Derek had ever seen, with whiskey-colored eyes and pale skin with dark moles speckled across his jawline, moles Derek was very familiar with because he'd spent two hours last night drunk out of his mind and licking them.

You Saw Me Standing Alone 43947 words. A pack of alpha werewolves is burning a war path through Beacon Hills; Stiles shouldn’t have the luxury of trying to get laid.

Versus by secondstar 94521 words. At age nineteen, Stiles Stilinski was the next big thing, according to The Guardian. It was surreal, not being able to turn on Sky Sports without hearing his name mentioned along with the names of players he grew up idolizing. Stiles couldn’t believe that this was his life.

Stomping Stereotypes by LadyDrace 2518 words. Derek and Stiles have been dating for a while, and they've finally decided that they're ready for sex. There's only one tiny issue, and Derek has a little trouble bringing it up...

Booty Call by dragon_temeraire 1670 words. Derek really needs to get fucked, and he knows just who to call.

A Second Chance at First Impressions by Cobrilee 7042 words. Derek grew up with the world's most embarrassing soulmark, which is honestly not the best first impression his soulmate could make. Then he meets the guy, and all of a sudden the soulmark doesn't matter quite so much after all.

our lives are changing lanes by grimm 47537 words. There's a lot of screaming going on inside the first house Stiles visits. He isn't really worried, because it sounds like kids, but then the door opens and hi, says his dick, because the dude in front of him is gorgeous, built like a god with a face like thunder. Stiles wants to lick that solid jaw line. Hold the fuck on, says his cop brain, because the dude's got kids hanging all over him; one's on his back, skinny legs looped around his waist, and another two hanging off one arm, toes barely brushing the ground. There's a tubby toddler clinging to his leg like a koala, and he's got a baby tucked into the crook of the one arm that doesn’t have kids hanging off it. Stiles' mouth drops open."How many of those kids did you kidnap?" he asks before he can wrangle his brain into submission.The man gives him a look that says what the fuck is wrong with you and snaps, "You think I'd subject myself to this on purpose?""Oooh," says one of the kids hanging off his arm. "I'm telling Mom."

Sense of Home by siny 53067 words. Home can be a place, but it can also be a person.After the events with the Nemeton, Stiles starts suffering the consequences of their sacrifice. A journey he attempts to make on his own, but only becomes worse with every step he takes. In the process he seeks comfort in an unexpected place and it draws him toward an unexpected person.

Pack Up; Don’t Stray by the_deep_magic 55220 words. Werewolves are an enslaved underclass, collared and tagged by human masters. Detective Stilinski’s on duty the night they bring in an untagged stray.

Advanced Vocabulary by wangler 4425 words. “Why do you like me?” Derek asks as he folds his shirt and drops it onto Stiles’ computer chair.“For your body,” Stiles says.

swallow me down raw, like you mean it by bleepobleep 7789 words. Derek isn’t quite sure what to do, but he can’t look away from the way Stiles’ mouth moves while he talks, and then Stiles’ shirt rides up a little with a particular wild gesture, revealing an expanse of pale skin. The comment I have these in red reverberates in his mind, and now Derek is frozen, imagining the man before him clad in nothing but a pair of lacy red panties.

#sterek #ficrecs #bottom!derek #sterek fic recs #top!stiles #eternalsterek

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secondgenerationnerd · 5 years ago

Note

Yes for the omega girls pregnancy headcannons

Won’t really do any for Irey since I’ve talked about her pregnancy a lot. Also! Feel free to request any of these as drabbles. I’m in a weird baby mood lol

Milagro:

Has a minor mental break down when she finds out she’s pregnant

Continues doing work in the Corps. Strictly diplomatic stuff and nothing in the field.

Someone says they’re suprised Colin allows her to keep up her Corps work. Colin didn’t even blink when she came home with bruised knuckles. (“They go down with one hit?” “Of course, I’m not an amateur.” “That’s my girl.” Look of total love)

She craves a lot more spicy food (which Colin is a bit of a wimp on). He usually cooks since he gets home first and just makes a separate portion just for her to spice up.

Ben is super excited about being a big brother.

Milagro lets him drive some of his little cars over her belly, because he calls it “playing with my brother.”

She dresses in clothes that make her look and feel good (like always!). She still loves her dresses and skirts, but leggings make more than a few appearances

Definitely does a pregnancy shoot with Colin and Ben. She cries a little because Ben and Colin get a few pics just the two of them.

She does a home birth. She’s a bit of a control freak and this helps with some of that.

Jaime and Bart took Ben to their house for the night (Milagro went into labor right after lunch and delivered Max after one in the morning)

Colin and her mom were both by her side the whole time. Bianca definitely helped her daughter with a lot more of understand how much it hurt, and colin was there telling Milagro that she’s got this. Telling her how strong she is and how he wouldn’t want anyone else to be his sons’ mother.

Colin caught Max when he was born and cried harder than Milagro did.

When Ben got to hold his little brother, Colin was helping support Max’s head. Milagro teared up seeing all her boys together for the very first time.

Mar’i:

Jon and Mar’i, like I said before, used a type of IVF to get pregnant with Laney.

Mar’i was really confused why Jon randomly burst into tears until she realized she could hear Laney’s heartbeat.

Mar’i has a pretty small pregnancy belly. Like. At five months, she can hide it with a loose top and leggings

They decide to see how long it takes her family to figure out she’s pregnant.

It took waaaaaay longer than they expected (“I thought the craving would give it away” “YOU DRANK MUSTARD AS A KID????”)

Definitely cries when Laney kicks for the first time.

She still dances while pregnant, but doesn’t do as much acrobatic stuff.

A few heroes realize early on that Laney’s going to be part Kryptonian and part tamaranean. They’re preparing on how to keep her powers under control. Mar’i and Jon both watched really amused (because honestly they have no idea if she’ll even have powers)

Their older kids like when Mar’i takes a picture with her belly every week, documenting it.

Jon gets home some days and Mar’i’s curled up in bed, her arm around her belly, with their older kids all cuddling her. Literally best sight in the world to him.

Mar’i goes into premature labor when she’s 6 months pregnant. Jon was at work handling something while she was home with their kiddos. After Mar’i collapsed, Charlie called 911 and Peter called Jon. Mar’i and Laney end up being ok, which Jon attributes to Charlie being smart and calling 911

She has the worse postpartum depression out of all the girls (which is ok because she’s got a great support system )

When they brought her home, Jon and Mar’i sat outside that night with all their kids. Mar’i nursed Laney in one arm and held her cuddly M&M in the other. Jon read to Charlie and Peter while they curled up to his side.

Lian:

Got pregnant the first time because antibiotics negated her birth control (it happens ladies and gents!!!!!) and the second time because the universe hates her (not really because she loves her kids, she just didn’t expect to have 3 under 2)

Has THE WORST morning sickness both pregnancies. Turns out she has what’s called “hyperemesis gravidarum” ( a pregnancy disease that more peope should know about). Think food poisoning for nine solid months with the potential of dehydration and malnutrition. She has a small machine pumping anti nausea meds 24/7 both pregnancies. (Inspired from Andy Grammer’s wife Aija who also suffered from it both her pregnancies.)

Ironically she also has the most pregnancy cravings of all the girls.

She gets really emotional really easily, mostly crying. That kinda pisses her off because she normally doesn’t like crying

Refuses to stop dressing the way she always has...but does agree to switch to leggings and maternity jeans....

When the baby dolls spend a few hours of the night kicking her like crazy, she usually kicks her husband’s leg. Jai brushes it off and rubs her belly to soothe the girls.

She thinks having a whole “gender reveal party” is dumb (girl same), but agrees to do something at her baby shower

Which is how Jai ended up blindfolded with a break away glass apple on his head And Lian pointing an arrow at him

They knew they were having girls, but were still happy to let everyone else know.

There are days Lian cannot stand being touched. Jai gets it and leaves her alone. Someone on one of those days made the mistake of touching her belly without permission.

She went into labor during a family dinner with the Flash fam (which OH BOY!)

While her labor was shorter than most multiple labors (about 10 hours) it. Sucked.

Her epidural did not want to kick in

Jai cried alittle at one point. She didn’t see it because she was pushing and crying herself from the pain. It killed him seeing her hurt so much.

Lily was born first with Milly following less than two minutes later.

Lian would be a liar if she said she didn’t cry holding her daughters for the first time.

She alternates between bottle and breastfeeding them because they have similar metabolisms to Jai. The bottles just have some extra calories and nutrients in them.

Jai will sometimes find Lian sitting in the girls’ rocking chair, holding both of them and singing to them while they sleep.

The girls do develop mentally faster than other babies, but that doesn’t bother either of their parents.

Someone definitely tries to make Lian feel bad about how her stomach looks after having twins or suggests she try something to “tighten up the twin skin” before a sparring demonstration. Jai happens to walk in and see his wife take that person down while his daughter laugh in their play pen.

With Luke, morning sickness still sucks.

Jai and Lian tell the girls they’re going to be big sisters on their first birthday.

Lian spends hours singing to her girls while she’s pregnant with Luke. They giggle when they feel their baby brother “dance in Mommys tummy”

Luke was breech when he was born, feet first, and the doctors took him to the side to check on him. Lian and Jai were frozen with fear. Until Luke started crying and the doctors put him on her chest.

The baby dolls snuggled Lian every single day she was recovering after birth, promising they use their “nice hands” on Luke.

Lian sees Jai singing and playing his guitar while the baby dolls dance around. Luke’s cooing in his bassinet and she just....she feels good.

#mar'i grayson #lian harper #jai west #jon kent #milagro reyes #colin wilkes #colin x milagro #superstar #speeding arrow

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randomfandomimagine · 6 years ago

Text

Out Of Your Shell (Rosa x Reader)

Character: Rosa Diaz

Fandom: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader, Shy!Reader

Title: Out Of Your Shell

Requested by anon:

Could you do a Rosa Diaz x fem!reader where Rosa is like undercover and has no contact whatsoever with the Nine Nine and then she comes back and the squad is in the briefing room with Rosa telling them about it. And then like R who is also a detective comes in and is all “Where the HELL have you been?!” And makeout sessions, tears and fluff ensues.

Requested by anon:

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Rosa Diaz x fem reader where the reader and Rosa are dating, but the reader is shy and Rosa helps them after they get a little hurt on a case?

That case turned out to be a lot tougher than I thought. I took a deep breath as the elevator arrived to the right floor. I clutched my side there where it hurt, grimacing at the painful memory of the incident in which I injured myself. But we arrested the perp, which was what mattered. Charles had insisted on me going back while he fixed everything else.

The doors opened and I slowly walked into the bullpen. I reminded myself that I only had to make a quick report to close the case, talk to Captain Holt and after that I could go home and get some rest. I was exhausted, and hopefully the captain wouldn’t mind that I left early after the stunt that I pulled today.

“Y/N!” Terry, being the closest –not counting Hitchcock and Scully, who were fast asleep on their chairs –, was the first to notice me. “You’re back, you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry” I tried to straighten up even if just breathing hurt me due to some definitely broken ribs. “Thanks for asking”

“Rosa will be back in no time” Jake probably noticed how I was staring at her desk, because he smiled as he demanded my attention. “She went to make some copies real quick”

“Okay” I muttered, embarrassed that it was so obvious. Yes, after the dangerous case I was looking forward to seeing her again. Even if our relationship didn’t go further from colleagues that sometimes flirted.

“Want me to get her?” He kindly offered, to which I quickly nodded.

Amy rushed to my side while Jake went to get Rosa. Santiago gingerly grabbed my arm and helped me sit down on my chair, where I heaved a tired sigh. My everything hurt, even if my ribs complained at my every move.

“Are you bleeding?” She was thoughtful enough to ask me. “You should go home”

“I will…” It hurt even to speak. “I just need to do my paperwork first”

“I can do it for you! When Charles gets back, he’ll tell me what happened”

“You don’t have to”

“I want to! You know I love paperwork”

“Thanks, Ames”

“Y/N?!” Rosa’s raspy voice immediately gathered my attention away from Amy.

“Hey” I weakly smiled up at her, feeling better already with the comfort of her presence.

“Don’t freak out, Rosa” Amy said for me, realizing I was too weak and tired to give an elaborate explanation. “She’s not hurt badly, I think she just broke a few ribs”

But Rosa completely ignored Amy and headed straight for me. She towered over me for a moment and then leaned down, her mouth dangerously close to mine. Alarmed by the daring gesture, I gasped and pulled away.

“I… I just want to rest” I looked around us, very aware of everyone staring, and blaming it on my current state and not the fact that the close call nearly gave me a heart attack. “Sorry that I worried you”

“I’m not worried” Apparently unconcerned, Rosa straightened up.

“J-Jake?” I piped up, focusing on leaving that moment behind.

“What’s up?”

“Could you tell Captain Holt I’m back?”

“Sure thing, buddy”

I felt Rosa’s dark eyes fixed on me and they deeply flustered me, so I deliberately kept my glance glued to the floor.

“Y/N?” She tugged at my arm and pulled me to my feet. “Break room. Now”

I grimaced at the sole act of being on my feet, but I nodded my head to her request. Still not locking eyes with her, I quietly followed her into the break room.

“Sit down” She told me as she paused to close to door. I obeyed in silence.

“Rosa, I-“ Feeling awkward and guilty, I wanted to apologize, but she interrupted me.

“What happened?” Rosa returned by my side, sitting in the couch and pulling me down so I would sit with her.

“Well, the perp got to me, he tackled me” I tightly held my sides, almost feeling the force of the impact still in my bones. “And he was two times my sizes, so I couldn’t shake him off me”

With surprisingly gentle hands, Rosa moved mine and carefully palpated my ribs.

“Charles was with you, right?” When I nodded, she continued. “Did he help you out?”

“Yeah” Rosa wasn’t the most cheerful person, but I could tell she was even more serious than usual, so I tried to lighten up the mood. “But I got my revenge on that guy later”

“Did you kill him?” She cocked an eyebrow in amusement.

“What? No! I arrested him” I rolled my eyes a little. “Well, Charles will bring him in later but I was the one that-“

“You’re right, you’re fine” Even if grimaced as her fingers softly dug in my sides, it was a relief to hear her say it. It meant she wasn’t mad at me for getting hurt.

I smiled to myself, realizing how quickly she dropped everything to look after me. Rosa stared at me and a soft frown occupied her brow.

“Why are you smiling about?”

“N-Nothing…”

“Y/N… Tell me”

“I just… You are worried”

I could have sworn that a faint blush came to her cheeks, but I knew better than to tell Rosa Diaz that she was blushing. Instead she clenched her jaw and sighed.

“So I think you have two broken ribs” To demonstrate her point, she put pressure in my side, making me yelp. “Yup, I’m pretty sure”

“Are you a doctor now too and I don’t know it?” When she glared at me a little, I bashfully smiled and averted my gaze. “You’re so mysterious, there’s so much I don’t know about you”

“You know how I feel about you” We made eye contact, and the corner of her lips curved up ever so slightly. It was a rare moment that I mentally treasured. “I think that’s enough”

I gave her a genuine grin, endeared by her honesty. The fact that she had admitted that meant the world to me. She hadn’t said the magic words, but it was a very Rosa way to say it and it was more than enough.

She leaned in again, but I got startled once more and leaned back. I feared I had upset her, but Rosa just rolled her eyes.

“I wish you would open up and let me freaking kiss you” She lightly punched my arm, to which I timidly chuckled.

“It’s… a bit ironic that I’m the one who needs to open up” I dared to say, to which Rosa laughed a little too.

My heart skipped a beat when I decided to take a chance and I leaned forward myself. Her lips were a dangerous target, but I thought her cheek was more approachable. Still, I shied away at the last minute.

She chuckled again, giving me a kiss on her cheek herself.

“Get some rest” And with that, Rosa left me alone in the break room.

After my little break, I returned to the precinct. I had been taking it a little slow after I got a little hurt last week, but I was getting back into it. Now I had coffee and was ready to do some paperwork and get back to my case.

I entered the bullpen and stopped at the sight that received me. It was surprisingly quiet and everyone was huddled around Gina’s desk. My gut told me something was wrong, and I clutched my coffee cup with shaky hands.

“Guys?” I spoke up, causing all of them to look over to me. “What’s going on?”

“Hey, Y/N” Jake said, his voice slightly high-pitched.

“You’re acting strange…” I could tell immediately, they all were.

“Nah” Charles stepped up next to his best friend. “Everything’s fine”

“No it isn’t…” Upon a brief scan I noticed someone was missing. They were all there: Gina, Amy, Holt, Jake, Charles, Terry… But not Rosa. “Where… Where is she?”

“You might want to sit down” Boyle softly told me.

“What happened?!” I slammed my cup against the nearest desk, unable to stomach even the coffee anymore.

“She went undercover on a case” Jake held his hands up to calm me down. “She agreed to give us a signal, to check in every hour and… Well, she’s missed two signals now”

I felt my legs shaking and I feared that they would stop holding my weight. Noticing this, Charles put a hand against my back to keep me up straight.

“Does that mean her cover’s blown? That’s she’s…” An involuntary gulped cut off my sentence as I couldn’t even say that out loud.

What if I never got to see her again? What if I never got to tell her how I felt? I had never actually told her! Maybe she knew, but if only I could have told her… We didn’t even get to kiss! I couldn’t just lose her like that…

“No, no” Jake vehemently shook his head. “She’s probably okay”

“Don’t worry, Y/N” Terry added, as I realized they were all watching my reaction. “If anyone can make it out of there, it’s Rosa”

I felt tears in my eyes, but I refused to start crying there in front of everyone. Nonetheless, the terrible thought of not seeing her again made me feel like I was choking.

“Try not to freak out, okay?” Jake told me. “She’ll be fine”

I closed my hands into fists, frustrated. How could he know that? How did he expect me not to freak out?! How…

But I didn’t say any of those things, not only because I couldn’t find my voice. But I also read that same restlessness I felt in his eyes. And in Charles’, and Terry’s, and Amy’s. We were all worried about Rosa, we all cared about her. I wasn’t the only one struggling to keep it together.

“C’mon” Charles’ hand kindly rubbed my back to comfort me. “Let’s get some fresh air”

I lost track of time, but it felt like several hours passed by. I was afraid to look at the clocks, worried that my perception made it tick by slower than I thought. Every second was agony as my brain tortured me with the many horrible scenarios and possible ways in which Rosa could have died.

Ever since Charles took me to the roof, I hadn’t moved from there. I was scared to go back too in case we got any bed news that I didn’t feel strong enough to face. Also, it was cold out there and I stupidly thought that being freezing would help me forget about Rosa. I wasn’t even making sense anymore.

I was so deep in my thoughts that I got startled and jumped when the door swung open. I turned to see Jake standing there, watching me.

“Y/N” Was all he said, but I immediately knew what he was there to tell me. I knew from his smile.

“Oh my god” I flew past him, absently patting him in the shoulder, and rushed back inside. I looked around, noticing all desks were empty. But the briefing room was full.

“Jake!” I uttered, turning to him as my heart began racing.

“Go!” He urged me with a smile.

And so I did, I sprint across the room and stormed into the briefing room. Everyone was there, surrounding a familiar figure with dark curly hair.

“Rosa” I breathed out, slightly winded from the dash.

She was already wearing her regular dark clothes, which told me that the undercover mission had been a success. Oh, I had so much to say to her. But not without lecturing her first. How dare she scare me and everyone like that? I hoped she had a good reason to miss the update signals to let us know she was okay!

“Sup, Y/N?” Rosa coolly sunk her hands on her pockets. “Missed me?”

When I saw her smirking, I wasn’t in control anymore. I had missed her so much, every single side of her. That smirk, her raspy deadpan voice, her hard dark eyes.

And she was there, alive and well. As beautiful as always, as strong and menacing as always. I chuckled, stupidly happy, and walked over to her with stern determination.

“What, were you worried about m-?” Before she could finish her sentence, I had held her by her black leather jacket and pulled her closer until our lips met.

That kiss was so magical, and it felt ten times better because my heart was beating like crazy, having thought I had lost her just a few minutes prior.

To my surprise, she wrapped her arms around me and brought me even closer to her, and I did the same. The kiss only deepened, and I thought I would go into cardiac arrest as it got more and more passionate.

“You” I pulled away, out of breath. “Where the hell have you been?!”

“They watched me like hawks, I couldn’t give the signals until the operation was over” Rosa leaned in to steal a kiss before she continued. “But I got them good”

“I sure hope you did”

“Why? Were you scared?”

“Oh, you’ve done it, Diaz”

We were about to kiss again when someone cleared their throat. It was then when I remembered that we weren’t alone in the room. I had completely forgotten that everyone was there, even Jake had returned.

“Um… Should we give you two some privacy?” Terry asked on behalf of everyone.

“N-No…?” I gulped, mortified that they had witnessed that.

“I’m glad I helped you come out of your shell” Rosa smirked, much to my annoyance.

“Shut up, Rosa…”

Tagging: @c-taylor-wanna-be-a-glader

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