#my fun fact is i was REALLY good at hot-wiring old cars as a kid. new ones have a different immobilizer but anything before the 2000s?

[martyrbat]

kick it up – batman: overdrive

[ID: Teenage Selina Kyle and Alfred Pennyworth bonding by stealing a car together. Selina starts to say the keys have to be in the car somewhere, but Alfred calmly interrupts. “I may be out of practice in hot-wiring, but I still have the knack of it, Miss. Kyle.” He dexterously fiddles with the wiring underneath the steering column and the car instantly comes to life! END ID]

[puella-peanut]

could we get a lakreese scene where they're bickering over something stupid, but it ends all nice and fluffy lol?

In a nice!AU (which I’m basing this ask on), I don’t really see them as the type of couple that normally bickers. They’re weirdly compatible, smooth out each other's creases, and find their differences more love-able (or at least, uh, tolerable) than annoying. People wonder at the odd couple they make: one tall, burly, and perpetually sour, the other personified, loveable sunshine in what, a cute and convenient 90 pounds? Opposites attract. Maybe. Either way, people hate them! (But goshdangit are they fun to speculate about.)

Moving on...

...However, every now and then, probably once or twice a year if they get antsy for it, thrice if they’re bored—Daniel and John get into these topic-jumping arguments not helped by Daniel’s inability to not word-vomit, his hot-temper, and Kreese’s...just overall Kreese-ness.

.

.

.

For instance, John hates when Daniel brings his spare car parts into any part of the house that is not the garage. Disgusting. Remove it. If this were the Army, Daniel would be on his hands and knees with a toothbrush and a serving of regret and sore knees—and he’d deserve it. “Look, kid," John begins in a voice that brooks no argument, "I know you like to tinker with your toys—“

“—as a mechanic, it’s my job, John!—“

“—keep the guts in the garage. No sludge in the house.” End of story, John thinks. Now, where did he put his newspaper?

But Daniel is kinda ruffled now, like a little canary that’s had a feather plucked. Oh dear.

“Sludge? Sludge? Lemme tell ya, Kreese, without this part, that decrepit old Ford of yours wouldn’t even start, and you’d have to hitch-hike to your job ‘cause I’m not gonna be hauling you around like the ungrateful potato you are. And guess what, there’s no sludge ‘cause I used your newspapers to catch any drip, and well, speaking of sludge, that’s what’s in your coffee-mug—“ Daniel’s off on a rant, not helped by his not-so-good day at the bodyshop (fuck his co-worker Adam, that punk!!), and the fact that the only local Italian grocery store in this white-bread town still hasn’t restocked his favorite olive oil—how do they expect him to put a proper meal on the table?! Anyway, he doesn’t notice John’s nearly-perpetual frown deepen. Oops. 

And John does hear the rant—by now he’s attuned to them, like a television wired for certain signals—but what really gets his gears going is his newspaper being used as a catchall drip-receiver. Damn it, he’s had a long day at his job (fuck his co-worker Steve, that moronic prick!!)—and all he wanted to read about was the local baseball game, and how can he do that now when LaRusso’s got his little grease-monkey hands all over it?! Goddamn it, it costs money to have it delivered to their house six days a week. Money which, as their bank accounts know, is scarcer than hens teeth. That lovable little shit. 

Anyway, Daniel suddenly remembers how it’s not fair that John’s on his case for the wrenches and the screws and the rusty motor (all nice and neat on his stupid paper by the way!!), when John himself just the other day left his karate-bag on the window-seat and knocked down four, four!—of Daniel’s bonsai trees, and unlike a dumb paper, those can’t be so easily replaced and—

So it jumps from car —> newspaper —> bonsai trees—to the state of the country, the pros and cons of after-school sports, if they should RSVP or just show up to Terry’s annual summer party, to...well, everything plus the kitchen sink, since they’re snipping over everything else so why not snip over that too?

It goes on like seemingly without end even until Daniel angrily finishes dinner (using some dreadful generic-brand olive oil) and pouting like a ruffled Italian housewife, while John broods as he sets the table, and takes long, thoughtful sips of beer (generic brand, but that’s never bothered him), and wonders where he went wrong in life. 

So, after an uncomfortable dinner, John retreats to the living room to watch the college football game and sulk (not at all missing the little figure normally curled up like a kitten at his side, no sir...)—while Daniel calls his Ma, (‘cause he checks in on her once a week like the good Italian boy he is), and anyway, he needs someone to whine to, since his usual outlet is the current cause of his problems. Che schifo, Ma! He twirls the kitchen phone cord around a finger, his other hand off his hip and then on it when he’s not gesturing to Ma, his John, the Madonna above, the universe...

“...so yeah, that’s the thing about John, my oh John, he looks like a caveman, I know, and he thinks that wearing a bomber-jacket is the height of sophistication, but I’m getting off topic here, anyway, he runs a tight household surprisingly despite the scruffy look okay, and he’s usually very spick and span—I guess that’s the service in him, probably something he picked up in basic training, ‘cause jeeze is the house squeaky-clean thanks to his insane cleaning routine Ma, oh yeah, anyway we got into it ‘today cause John’s always pissed off if there’s even a crumb outta line—“

“No I’m not LaRusso.” John responds from the living room. At this rate, everyone from Lucille to John Wayne will know their private business, and the latter’s been stone cold dead these fifteen years. 

“—like I was saying, a crumb, lemme tell ya, he got all lumpy and sour like milk left out too long when I left a couple of bits n’ parts in the kitchen—yeah, Ma, on the newspaper like you taught me!—this is the type of guy who will wake you up in the am all menacing like, like the drill instructor he was—“

“Never done that, LaRusso. And I was a Captain—“

Daniel forgets his Ma’s on the other end of the line, forgets that she’s laughing at their antics as he snaps back,“—that’s a load of bull, ‘cause yeah you did, Kreese, 'member that time you woke me up and got in my business at an unholy hour just to let me know I’d left the hose running on the entire night and the water bill was gonna rocket up to the cosmos now, and the world was gonna end ‘cause—“

“—it becomes my business as well, kid, when a bill’s in my name. And dawn’s when you should’ve been up already,” John responds, focusing on the meat of the complaint and not the fat. He moves back into the kitchen, all slow and deliberate, his long shadow falling on the brat, menacing. And wasted, because Daniel’s not impressed in the slightest. 

“—dawn! Dawn he says, Ma!—on the weekend, John? On Saturday?!”

“Yes." 

Daniel rolls his eyes to the popcorn ceiling, letting out an exhausted groan. “Ma, Ma,” he sighs, “I’ll—okay, I'll call ya back later. I'm—“ he scowls at John. “Ma says hi—“

“Hi, Lucille.”

“—not that you deserve it." Daniel mumbles as his mother cheerfully sends John her love, and tells Daniel not to forget to call her, and to jot down his Sloppy Joe recipe. “Yeah got it, love ya too, Ma!”

He hangs the phone back up. Great, now it's too quiet. He chews his lip, turning to look at John, hands idly fiddling with the ends of his untucked shirt that he hadn’t ironed though John had reminded him, and not unkindly, only that morning. Before dropping a kiss that lingered on the top of his head, and heading off to work. His mouth twitches. Suddenly, this whole thing seems stupid. Probably because it is. The idling continues, and John watches Daniel watching him. 

Finally, Daniel opens his mouth to say something, anything, because John's just gonna just stand there until the earth swallows him up otherwise. He thinks of something just as John steps up right into his space, making him immediately shut his mouth again, words forgotten. Daniel cranes his neck back, because John’s so much taller than him this close, easily taller than the fridge too, including the basket of fake fruits piled at the top; one of the lemons had fallen behind the fridge what, a week ago, he’ll have to remember to find it before it gets all fuzzy and gross like—“

The back of Daniel’s head hits the wall with a thump. “Ow, fuck—“

John’s hand reaches out quickly, at once cradling his head and pulling Daniel to him in one smooth movement. “Careful, Prima Donna,” John says. His other arm settles itself at Daniel’s waist, and Daniel relaxes into it. It’s a good weight. Familiar. 

“What’d you care if I hurt myself, I could die from a wall-induced concussion and you’d still be on my case about denting it or something.” Daniel mumbles, but the dramatic petulance is just for show, something they both know. 

“Mm.” John strokes his head like he would an injured kitten. Now that’s a thought, Daniel snorts.

“What.”

Daniel smiles up at him, his hands moving to play with the buttons marching up John’s really nice chest. He undoes one, two at the top, allowing a bit of chest hair to peek out. Much better! “Nothing. Well, not really, ‘cause I was thinking, John, we could fix that old table that's in halves in the garage and I could use it for my bits and pieces—"

"—sounds good." 

Daniel beams. "Okay, alright, we can do that this Saturday maybe, you're off right? 'Cause I get off 'round one-ish, so...hey, what about we grab lunch or something? On the radio it said that the storm's gonna clear up by noon, so we can meet between your job and mine, oh John, there's this really cute breakfast-all-day diner that opened up midtown, we should—"

John’s hand moves from Daniel’s head to his face, thumb tracing the outline of his lips. Daniel stills. John tilts his head, leaning down, and Daniel leans up on his toes, curling his hands in John's shirt, already halfway closing his eyes but—

—all he feels on his lips is John's breath when he murmurs, “You think and talk enough for both of us," most unhelpfully, his face completely neutral as he pulls away and returns his arms to his side, leaving Daniel’s hands still curled at his buttons. Waiting for nothing. 

“You could die from such a man,” Daniel sighs as he sinks back to the flats of his feet, missing the kiss he never got. The weight of strong arms around him. But he grins up at John anyways, bunny teeth on display. Sweet sunshine again. 

There’s a ridiculously fond look on John’s face. “Don’t,” John says, brushing Daniel’s floppy bangs out of his eyes, and thumbing his cheek before he moves back. He grabs another beer from the fridge, leaving Daniel to roll his eyes, and search the cupboards for containers to hold the leftovers until the next day. Maybe he'll bake some more bread so they can have it with their lunches tomorrow. That'll be nice, he thinks, wondering if there's any garlic left over.   

John returns to the living room, turns the TV off, and puts on an old record instead, a faint smile on his lips. Daniel will be out in a moment or two all ready to curl up by his side, like a kitten. It's been a long day, and they're both tired. Maybe they'll go on up to bed early as well. Not that they'll go to sleep immediately. Heh. 

As he waits, he thinks about what he'll need to fix that table. And while he's at it, the lumber yard near the construction lot has some free wood slabs and pieces. He can stop there on his way back tomorrow, find something to build Daniel a nice shelf for his bonsai trees. The kid'll love it. Maybe he'll surprise him, too. 

Now...where did he put that newspaper of his?

.

.

.

.

Anyway, Anon, this is what happens when you mix fire (Sagittarius), and Earth (Taurus) together. Not that Kreese’s birthday was ever given to be fair (come ON CK writers, fix this!)—but I head-canon him as being (a Boomer baby bless him), as well as a stubborn bull baby. His demeanor certainly fits! As well as the crotchety-ness. My cranky old caveman <3

But that’s just a hot-take brought to you by the Sag in me, Anon. ;D

[goddesswritings]

home with you - Stiles Stilinksi | everything i wanted

Title: home with you – Part One

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

Summary: Lydia Martin has a cousin. She’s Y/n. She moved in with Lydia and her mother two years ago after tragedy struck in her life. She met Stiles and Scott, and the two boys basically saved her. She developed a crush on Stiles through this, despite him having a crush on her beautiful cousin. People start going missing in Beacon Hills, and Y/n is forced to face her feelings and her ability to save the people she loves.

Word Count: 6.8k

Notes: Finding a title that fit this story was a bit of a task, but I think ‘home with you’ by FKA twigs is pretty fitting in a way for the feelings I have for this story.

This story is based on season 6A of Teen Wolf. It took me three years to finally finish Teen Wolf and season 6A was definitely a favorite of mine. The character development of everyone was just wow. So here we have a Stiles and Reader fic, because this idea hit me. Enjoy. More Stiles fics to come!

Masterlist

********

“Lydia, don’t say that.” You said to your cousin as she picked at her nails.

“What, I thought Stiles would have moved on by now. It’s been what, 4 years?” She popped her gum as she lounged back on her bed. “Aiden and I have been together for a while now, he does know I’m not breaking up with him, right?”

“I’m sure he does, Lyds. Just don’t antagonize him. He can’t help who he likes.” You would much rather not be talking about Stiles’ crush on your cousin with her, but she brought it up when Aiden mentioned that he thought Stiles was still into her.

You sighed and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. This whole thing was not fun to talk about. You hated the way she treated Stiles, yet he still loved her. Two years ago, you moved in with Lydia and her mom after your parents were killed in a freak accident. You and Lydia had always gotten along, but she was definitely not the nicest person. But she’s been getting better.

“Oh I know, why don’t I set him up with someone? That will help him move on, right?” She raised her eyebrows as she grabbed her phone from the table. She started browsing it.

Your heart perked up, hoping she would realize you were the perfect person to set him up with. But she ignored you.

“Stella is a good choice. Wait no, she’s into James. Oh maybe Ellie, oh she’s perfect! Her hair is identical to mine.”

“Except for the fact that Ellie plays for the other team.” You mumbled.

“Wait, she does? I never knew that.”

“Yeah, at that party at Derek’s last year, she was all over that chick from Econ. Hailey I think.”

Lydia sighed and put her phone down. “Well then I don’t know what to do. He needs to move on, like now. I can’t have him stuck on me like this. We’re seniors and I don’t want him following Aiden and I around in school.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved from her bed. “I will talk to him, Lydia. You don’t have to worry.”

Her eyes lit up, “Perfect Y/n! Now I’m meeting Aiden for a late-night talk. Can you cover for me, with my mom?”

“Of course.” You left her room and headed down the hall to yours. It was nice that Natalie Martin took you in, but sometimes Lydia took advantage of you.

A message came through your phone. It was Scott.

Stiles and I have a kid at the station. He’s terrified and we have no clue who his parents are, we need you and Lydia.

Of course she was already gone.

I can help, but Lydia just left with Aiden. I’m the best you got.

Scott and Stiles became good friends with you when you moved to Beacon Hills. Almost immediately you fell for the quirky boy who had way too much energy. He was funny and sweet to you. When you moved, you’d fallen into a depression but somehow him and Scott got you out of it. Especially since they vowed to find out what happened to your parents.

With the help of Sheriff Stilinski, you did find out what happened to your parents. Not that you wanted to remember it right now.

Stiles will be there in 5.

Okay!

You rushed around your room, pulling off the sweatpants you had been wearing and pulling on some jeans. You got one leg in and lost your balance and fell to the ground. Chuckling, you pulled the pants on and searched for shoes to wear. Finally you had finished dressing when you saw Roscoe pull into the driveway. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you were off. Natalie was nowhere to be found, so you didn’t have to convince her to let you go.

Stiles smiled when you hopped into the jeep. “Well hello, little Martin.” He stated with his signature smile.

“I’m the same age as Lydia and you know this.” You quipped as you clicked the seatbelt in.

“Of course, I know this. I’m just joking with you. I only say it because you’re shorter than me and Scott.” He patted your thigh. “We love you regardless.”

Shaking your head, Stiles backed out of the driveway and headed towards the station.

“Damn, I wish I had a growth spurt.” You mumble making Stiles laugh.

“No Y/n, you’re perfect the way you are. Trust me. You don’t need to be taller or anything like that.”

The words warmed your heart. This is why you had a massive crush on him. He was the sweetest man alive.

“Well that was as sweet as pie, Stiles. Now tell me what to expect with this kid?”

Stiles was now in detective mode. You loved how passionate he was about all of this. He had amazing skills that made him valuable to Scott’s pack, despite being human. You on the other hand, felt very useless to the pack. Your cousin was a Banshee, Scott was a werewolf, Malia was a Coyote, and well Stiles was gifted with his detective skills as well as being smart as hell. You were just a human with no special skills to help them. You always did your best when these things happened, but you just weren’t all that useful to them.

“Liam and Hayden found this kid in a car alone. He was mumbling about needing to find his parents, but my dad has no record of them or the kid. We are all simply confused. He was also mumbling about these men who came out of nowhere on horses and stole his parents.” Stiles explained as he stopped at a red light.

“Interesting. What does your dad think?” You asked when you watched the light turn green.

“He thinks he just ran away from home and found an abandoned car to hot wire.” Stiles was not happy with that answer.

“How old is the kid?”

“12 apparently.”

“Okay, what twelve-year-old can hotwire a car? Who’s the car belong to?” Everything was not adding up.

“The car wasn’t registered to anyone. It had no plates. But the windshield was smashed off. The kid said the men on horses shot the car.”

“That doesn’t sound like a runaway kid to me.”

“Same. Scott is not sure what he thinks.”

You put your hand on Stiles’. “What do you think happened?”

He sighed. “I think it was supernatural of course. I’m not sure what, but I feel it in my bones that he didn’t just run away from home. They don’t even have record of this kid.”

“Well then we will find out what it is, won’t we?”

“You want to help?”

“Of course I do, Stiles. You’re my best friend and I believe you when you have a feeling about these things.” Also your feelings for him, made you believe him even more.

The two of you pulled into the station and he led you from the car. Sheriff Stilinski was in his office with Scott and a kid who looked scared and confused.

“I just want to find my parents.” He cried as Sheriff Stilinski looked on in helplessness.

“How do we find his parents if he’s not even in the database?” He asked Scott in a whisper.

Scott looked pensive before a thought hit him. “Well I could use my claws?”

You shook your head. “Scott no, that’s a horrible idea. That will hurt him!”

The kid spoke up. “I will do anything. I just want to find my parents.” You all exchanged looks, unsure of how to precede. Did Scott really want to use his claws on this kid to get answers?

“It’s going to hurt. Are you sure?” He asked him.

“I am. I need to know where my parents are.” He whined, tears clouding his eyes.

“Okay, we have to do this.” Scott looked to Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles, and I.

Stiles’ dad sighed and shut the door, locking it. Then he lowered all the curtains to his office. You stepped back, knowing it would hurt him. Stiles stepped up beside you and took your hand in his. You turned and buried your head into his chest as Scott buried his claws into the neck of this kid. He screamed in agony as Scott delved into his memories. Stiles wrapped his arms around you, blocking out some of the sound.

It all stopped, and Scott fell away from the boy. Stiles loosened his grip and you turned to see a highly confused Scott. The kid was passed out now.

“What did you see?” Stiles asked.

“Nothing. There are no memories of his parents at all. Just him. His name is Alex.” He mumbled, walking away from him.

“How is there no memories of his parents?” Sheriff Stilinski was so confused.

“That’s what I want to know.” You were all left in a state of confusion. Sheriff talked about how he would be keeping Alex at the station until they could locate his parents. Stiles, Scott, and you exited the station.

“We should go look at his house. You did see his house, right?” Stiles said as you three stopped by the jeep.

“I did. I know where it’s at.” Scott stated.

“Then why don’t we go check it out?” He suggested with hope in his eyes.

“Tomorrow we will go. It’s getting late and we have school in the morning.” Scott told him.

“Okay, that’s fine. Let me know if you remember anything else?”

Scott smiled and put on his motorcycle helmet. “Will do. Good luck!” He told him before riding off.

You were confused. “Good luck with what?” You asked as Stiles led you to the car. You hopped in.

“Oh it’s nothing. Can we, uh, go somewhere to talk?” He was suddenly nervous.

“Sure. I’m positive Lydia isn’t home yet and well I didn’t see her mom, so she’s also probably on a date.”

“Good, let’s go.” He started up the jeep and drove off without another word. He was silent as you both drove along with quiet streets of Beacon Hills. Your mind went to what Lydia asked you to do, and your chest tightened with nerves.

Stiles parked the jeep on the edge of the Beacon Hills Preserve. He shut the car off.

“So I actually needed to talk to you about something.” You said knowing you had to do it now or never.

“Sure, go ahead. I have something to say too.” He said with his cute little smile.

You smiled back but felt like bolting from the jeep. You couldn’t believe Lydia was making you do this. “So I was talking to Lydia and she mentioned that she still thinks you have a crush on her. Do you?”

“I don’t know, maybe.” He answered while watching you closely.

“Okay, she said her, and Aiden were talking, and she didn’t like that you still crushed on her. She was rambling on about how she didn’t want you to spend Senior year following her around, especially now that you and Malia are over.”

“That’s good because I have a crush on someone else.”

You barely registered what he said as you continued on. “And I know it sounds mean when she says this. I even told her she couldn’t say that because you are so sweet and don’t deserve that kind of treatment.”

“Of course.”

“I’m so sorry Stiles, I didn’t want to be the one to say it. But she wants to set you up with someone else, and I said it was a horrible idea because I hate when people set you up with others.”

“Mmm hmmm.” He mumbled as he watched you ramble. He loved when you got like this. You were just so dang cute when you rambled without really understanding what the other person was saying.

“Because I think we should be able to choose who we date on our own without being set up.” You stopped when you realized something he’d said. “Wait, did you say you have a crush on someone else?”

Stiles started laughing. “I was wondering when you would catch that. Yes I did, and yes I do have a crush on someone else. Someone who’s beautiful and loyal and just downright adorable all the time. Someone I should have seen ages ago.”

Inside, your heart ached. “Who is she?”

He shook his head. “Well I think you know her, she’s in all my classes.”

Your brain went into overdrive, thinking about all the girls you and Stiles shared class with. There was only a handful that were in all your classes. “Melanie?”

Once again he was laughing. “No. Y/n, it’s you.”

The world stopped. You looked up at the dark-haired boy in front of you. His eyes sparkled in the moonlight as he watched you with curiosity.

You point to him. “You like me?” Then you pointed at yourself.

“I do. Ever since the Chimera stuff, as well as me and Malia drifting apart. I realized I had the perfect girl in front of me. Who is more perfect than she realized.”

“But I’m not Lydia. At all.”

“I don’t want you to be Lydia. My crush on Lydia was infatuation for someone I thought I knew. But she’s been pretty keen on ignoring me for years, despite us now being in the same friend group. After the Nogitsune, I started thinking about why I liked her and realized all my reasons for liking her, didn’t make sense. I think I just wanted her because I couldn’t have her. Does that make sense?”

“It does. But you really like me?”

“I do, a lot.”

Smiling, you leaned forward and kissed him. “I like you too, Stiles. A lot. I have since I moved here.”

He smiled and pulled you into another kiss. Stiles was happy he finally admitted his feelings to you. He’d known you had some sort of feelings for him but because of Lydia, you never said a thing. He knew he was truly over Lydia.

“Then will you let me take you on a date?” Stiles asked with hope in his beautiful amber colored eyes.

“Yes, oh my god, I would love that!” You wrapped your arms around his lean body, and he reciprocated the movement. His arms pulled you close as you leaned over the console of his car, where he kept his police scanner.

He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. His lips were hot against yours. You leaned into the kiss until the console got to be too much. Stiles pulled away and motioned to the back of the car. You nodded before hopping over the console with Stiles hot on your heels.

His arms wrapped around you as he pulled you close once again. His lips found yours in another searing kiss. You’d wanted this for so long, that you simply melted into his kiss. Stiles licked your lips to get you to open up, and you did. His tongue was quick to find yours. Your mouths meshed together in the most perfect way.

Stiles’ hands wondered your body over your clothes, increasing your excitement. The way your bodies fit together, was truly a magical feeling. The kisses had your head swimming while he caressed you in the sweetest way.

You took a hold of the situation and rolled the two of you, until you were on top of Stiles. Your lips left his and started sucking on his neck. Stiles moaned when you found the spot on his neck that had his body feeling alive. He pushed up against you, allowing you to feel the forming bulge in his jeans.

Smiling, you pulled him into another kiss and this time, your hands were the ones exploring his body. You felt every muscle in his body as your hands trailed it like he’d done with you. Stiles’ hands were gripping your waist, holding you in place so he could still have some sort of control over you. But you had your own plans up your sleeve, and you pressed yourself into the bulge that was pushing up into you.

“Oh shit.” He moaned as you did that. He was not expecting that at all. “My dirty girl is taking control, huh?” He groaned as you rubbed yourself on him. Your pussy was soaked at this point and the friction of you rubbing against him, was sending you on a trip.

“I am.” You whispered as you ground down again.

“Fuck, you’re making it hard to take this slow.” Stiles’ grip had tightened on your waist. He was trying to stop you from grinding yourself down on him again.

“What if I don’t want to go slow?” You’d pulled away to study his face. You counted the moles on his face, dying to kiss him again, so you pushed forward to do just that.

He lightly pulled away. “As much as I love that, I would hate myself if we did that. I want to do this right. I want to take you out and show you the world.”

You bit your lip as you thrust your hips down again. A steady pressure was building in your core, and you were so ready for it to burst.

“Y/n, gosh you’re so fucking sexy.” He let go of his inhibitions and pulled your lips back to his. His hands were now exploring your body again, while yours wrapped around the back of his neck. He pushed himself up against your needy core, causing the sexiest moans to fall from your mouth.

“Please Stiles, I need you.” You moaned when one of his hands grabbed a breast and palmed it.

His lips were hot against your skin. “I need you too, shit.” His head fell back as your core connected with his hard cock. He was so ready to release it and plunge into your needy little pussy.

“Then have me, Stiles, I don’t want to wait. I have wanted this for so long and I want this now.” Despite everything, you wanted to feel him, and you wanted him to fuck you right here and now.

“Yes, I would love that.” He flipped you over, so you were beneath him. Then he leaned over the seats to grab a condom from the glove compartment. He pulled you into another erotic kiss when a cellphone went off. Your cellphone.

“Awe fuck.” You mumbled as you leaned over the seats to grab your phone. It was Natalie.

“Hello.” You asked into the phone.

“Where are you, Y/n. Lydia said you were in your room but you’re not. It’s nearly 12:30.” She kept her voice level as she asked. She was never too strict with you. Not after what happened with your parents.

You mouthed that it was Natalie to Stiles.

“Scott and Stiles needed me for some research for school. We lost track of time.” You said quickly as Stiles frowned.

“Okay, well you need to come home. You have school in the morning.” She stated, not sounding mad.

“I will be right there. Thank you Aunt Natalie.” You hung up the phone.

Stiles dropped the condom in defeat. “No sex, huh?”

“I’m sorry Stiles. I think we really lost track of time.” You kissed his cheek and jumped back into the passenger seat. Stiles followed behind and started the car.

“Well it’s probably for the best. I meant what I said when I told you I wanted to take my time with you. You just distracted me with your charms.” His eyes traveled the length of your body. Your face heated up when he did this.

“Alright, I agree. We did move a little fast. I just lost myself when I was kissing you.”

“I know the feeling. Now, let’s get you home. I don’t need Natalie on my case for keeping her niece out all hours of the night.”

“That ship has sailed. But she likes you anyway. Especially after what you and Scott did for me when I moved here.” You smiled in his direction.

He smiled back and put a hand on your thigh as he drove through Beacon Hills towards the house you lived in with the Martin’s. He didn’t move his hand at all, not until he pulled into the driveway.

“I had fun, Stiles. I can’t believe you like me.” Never in the world would you have expected the night to turn out this way.

“Well believe it, babe. I’m all yours. Now I will see you at school tomorrow.” He leaned over to kiss you sweetly. Not letting this kiss grow out of control.  

“Yes, I will see you tomorrow.” You left the jeep and waved bye to him. He stayed in the driveway until you were safely in the house. You stood at the door and watched him leave. A huge smile was planted on your face as you did this.

“Damn, what has you so smiley?” A voice cut through your thoughts. Shutting the door, you found Lydia sitting on the couch watching you.

“I had fun with Scott and Stiles.” You stated, trying to not let her know you had just been making out with Stiles Stilinski in the back of his jeep.

“Sure, that’s totally why you’re smiling. I know you better than that. Who’s the lucky guy?” She stood from the couch and crossed the room to stop in front of you.

“Guy? There’s no guy.” You mumbled, looking away from her.

“Y/n sweetie. Your neck is red like some guy was just sucking on it. Cut the bullshit and tell me who it is. I think I have an idea. But please, do spill.” She smirked as she watched you.

“Uh, it was a friend.” Why couldn’t you just say who it was? It was not like she’d be upset.

She shook her head. “It was Stiles wasn’t it?”

“Um, maybe.”

“It was. He was the one who just dropped you off. Besides, I know you’ve had a crush on him.”

Wait, she knew? “How?”

“Y/n, we’ve been close since birth. I saw all the signs. Why do you think I told you to talk to Stiles tonight?”

“You said you wanted to set him up with someone.”

She laughed. “You, I wanted to set him up with you. I knew if I just nudged you towards him, you would admit your feelings for him. I’m happy he feels the same way.”

“Me too. So you aren’t mad?”

“Why would I be? I wanted him to move on from me and you know I want you to be happy.”

“Thank you, Lydia. I really do like him. I never expected him to like me back though.” Not in the least. Not when your cousin was Lydia.

“How could he not? You’re beautiful Y/n.”

“Because he’s liked you forever.”

“Well it looks like he’s over it. Okay, time for bed. You can tell me all about it tomorrow.” You nodded and the two of you went off to your rooms. A huge smile stayed on your face as you drifted to sleep.

**

You drove with Lydia to school, but you woke up to a ridiculously cute text from Stiles. It was still very unreal that he likes you the way he does. But you knew it was real. The proof was the hickey you had to cover when you woke up. Part of you wanted to leave it there, so people knew, but that was stupid to do.

I hope you slept well, my sweet girl. I was sorta up late when a theory hit me. I did some research; you know how it goes. I can’t wait to see your beautiful face at school. See you soon, gorgeous.

The text had you smiling the whole morning, which freaked Lydia out a little. You texted Stiles back, telling him you couldn’t wait to see him at school. Now that you had expressed your feelings, all you wanted, was to be in his presence.

You pulled up at school and spotted Roscoe in the parking lot, with Stiles leaning against it, with Scott not too far from him. Liam was there too, while Malia had just pulled up to school. Trying to hold in the excitement, you and Lydia joined the group.

Stiles didn’t even hesitate before taking your hand in his. Your group of friends eyed you curiously, but the two of you didn’t really notice at all.

“What’s going on with them?” Scott questioned as he watched the way you both looked at each other.

Lydia chuckled. “Somebody came home extremely late, after being out with Stiles last night. It’s safe to say, the two of them admitted their feelings to each other.” She told them.

“Finally!” Scott shouted, throwing a fist into the air. “It was becoming way too much to keep Stiles’ feelings from Y/n.”

Malia rolled her eyes and smacked Scott on the shoulder. “Knock it off. Stiles was just being Stiles. I knew he would do it eventually.”

You looked to your friends. “You knew he liked me?”

They all nodded, even Liam.

“Shit, he even showed me his feelings for you when we were dating. Stiles isn’t particularly good at hiding his feelings.” Malia stated, wrapping an arm around Scott. The two of them were becoming particularly close since Scott and Kira officially ended things a few months back.

“We also knew Y/n had a crush on Stiles. I mean, I’ve known since it started.” Scott laughed as your face heated up.

“I can’t say I knew about it until Scott told me recently.” Malia admitted.

Liam laughed. “I’ve known since I met you all.”

“Well that’s my cue to go find Aiden. He said he was here early to study.” Lydia waved goodbye before leaving the group.

The fact that all your friends knew that you and Stiles had something for each other but said nothing, was frustrating. “Now that I know my friends have been keeping things from me. Is there anything else you want to tell me?” You said, trying to look serious.

They knew you better than that. “You love us, Y/n. Don’t lie.”

“Perhaps. But I am a little mad at you.”

Stiles chuckled. “No you’re not. You can never stay mad at them for long. They just wanted us to figure it out on our own.” Stiles stated while kissing your cheek.

“I know.” With that, the bell went off and you all headed into the school to go to first period, making plans to meet for lunch in the quad.

*

Lunch rolled around and the group met up in the quad like they said they would. Scott, Malia, Lydia, Aiden, Stiles, and you all sat around the tables. Lydia was particularly invested in Aiden as always.

Stiles was talking about going over to Alex’s house on his break, because the investigator in him couldn’t wait to get more evidence. Luckily, Scott convinced him to wait until after school, where he would be able to go. You were grateful because it would be safer to have Scott with you both.

They were going around taking pictures for the yearbook when they stopped at your table. You all huddled in for the picture. Stiles wrapped an arm around you and held you close as the picture was snapped. Everyone was happy to get a picture of the friend group.

Stiles was practically bouncing off the walls when school ended. You followed him and Scott to Roscoe, you jumped into the back and were all headed to Alex’s house. The closer you got, the more a deep feeling of dread built up in you. Something was up and you kind of didn’t want to know but you had to. Alex needed help.

The jeep pulled up in front of a dark blue house, the same one that Scott had seen when he delved into Alex’s memories. The three of you exited the jeep and headed up to the house. There was something up with it.

Scott led you and Stiles into the home and immediately the three of you were massively confused. It looked like a completely abandoned house. There was hardly any furniture, but the minimal furniture that was there, was dusty as hell.

“Are we sure this is the place you saw?” Stiles asked as he looked around the home.

“Yes, this is the right place.” Scott said as he touched a dining table that had a lone plate setting.

You were silent as you wandered the house. The three of you wandered up the stairs where you found Alex’s room. It was fully furnished, and looked clean and lived in, unlike the rest of the house.

“Oh what the hell is this?” Stiles sighed as we looked at the room.

“This doesn’t make sense. How the hell is the rest of the house empty, but his room is not?”

Scott was silent as he looked at Alex’s belongings. “I’m not sure. This is weird. Let’s see if we can find anything else.” He started to leave the room.

You were looking at the bulletin board when you noticed something odd. There was a picture of Alex, but he was alone, but it was clear there were other people that were supposed to be in the picture with him.

“Stiles, look at this.” He stepped up beside you and took the picture from you.

“Huh, that’s weird. It’s like the others in this picture were completely erased from it.”

“Right, this is not any normal disappearance. Especially since we don’t even know Alex’s parents names.” You flipped the photo, to see if he’d written anything on it, but it was blank.

Stiles stopped short. “Did you hear that?” He muttered as he looked towards the hallway.

Hearing nothing, you shook your head.

He was focused on the door though. “I heard a horse.”

Clearly, he wasn’t joking. You knew when Stiles was joking and right now he was completely silent.

“A horse? Stiles, we’re in a house. There can’t be a horse inside it.”

“Yeah well I hear one and it’s getting louder. Stay here.” He said as he headed for the door. The dread you felt earlier was back and more intense. You looked at the ground and spotted something peculiar. A dirty white bandana laid on the ground. Reaching for it, you saw a flash of a vision. It was some sort of creature on a horse, pointing a gun. You jerked from your thoughts when you heard Scott in the hallway. You rushed to the door.

“Are you okay, Stiles? What happened?” Scott asked as you saw Stiles on the ground. He looked absolutely terrified.

“I saw this ghost rider on a horse. He was coming at me. He was about to shoot me.” He rambled, clearly terrified by the ordeal. Your stomach dropped.

“Stiles, was the ghost rider wearing a handkerchief?” You questioned as Stiles finally pulled himself from the floor.

“No, he didn’t have one on. Why?”

“Because I just found this in Alex’s bedroom.” Holding up the dirty piece of fabric, the two guys studied it. Stiles grabbed it and examined it.

“Shit, let’s see if there is anything else in there.” Scott was quick to go back to the bedroom but stopped when he opened the door. There was no furniture in the room anymore.

“What the hell.” You mumbled, grabbing Stiles’ hand. For the moment, you forgot the vision you had when you touched the fabric Stiles was holding.

The guys were silent as they looked into the room. “We need to get out of here. We need to check on Alex.” All three of you left the house to head to the station. Stiles had handed you the handkerchief again and you studied it while he drove the three of you to the station.

Entering the building, something was very wrong. The cell where Alex had locked himself was empty. No one in the station had any recollection of the boy either. It was like he vanished into thin air, just like the furniture from his room.

“He was taken by the ghost riders.” Stiles said to you and Scott. You had headed back to Beacon Hills High for the Lacrosse scrimmage. Stiles and Scott were late, but coach didn’t really seem to notice.

“Hey, why are you wearing my jersey?” Stiles asked a random kid when he walked by in Stiles’ 24 jersey.

“Coach gave it to me at practice yesterday.” He said with a shrug before walking off.

“Huh, what the hell. Why would coach do that? Did he forget to tell me something?”

Scott shrugged. “Not sure man. Let’s head in to change for the scrimmage.” Scott left you and Stiles for the school. Stiles was looking after the guy who wore his jersey.

“Are you okay, Stiles?” You asked, jerking him from his thoughts.

“Yeah, this is just weird.” You agreed and followed him into the school.

“Hey, I forgot some of my homework in my locker. I need to go grab that. I will meet you in a few.” You told Stiles as you both entered the school. His hand was locked in yours. He was on edge and you could feel it just by the way he held your hand. “Hey Stiles, take a deep breath. You’re going to give yourself a panic attack.” You whispered while putting a hand on his cheek.

He looked to you. “I’m okay.” He assured, kissing you before telling you to get your homework.

You nodded and walked away, feeling like something bad was about to happen. The vision popped back into your head as you walked towards your locker. Why and how did you get a vision? That shouldn’t be possible. At all.

Rummaging through your locker, you looked through your belongings to find the book you need for your homework. You stopped short when you felt someone behind you. You glanced back and saw no one at all. Shaking off the feeling, you found the book you needed and slipped it into your bag.

As you were headed back to Stiles, you saw him looking extremely distraught. You rushed back to him and took his hand in yours.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered making him look down at you.

“They don’t remember me.” He said with a frown.

“Who doesn’t remember you?”

“Your Aunt. Liam, Hayden, and Mason. My dad.” None of them remember me.” His voice was low. You felt the panic building.

“Shit, what’s happening?”

Stiles looked behind him. “They are here.” He gripped your hand tighter and pulled you out of the school.

“Who’s here?” You stopped when you heard the distinct sound of horses.

“The ghost riders. They are back.” He raced around. You could hear them, but you didn’t see them and that scared you.

“Where are they. I can hear them?” You jumped when you heard it from your left. Stiles led you away from them.

“You hear them?”

“Yes.”

“Come on, we have to get out of here.” The two of you ran to his jeep and jumped in. He tried to start it, looking up every other second. When the jeep wouldn’t start. He gave up.

“Y/n listen to me. They are going to take me. This is what they do. They take people and make everyone forget they ever existed. I need you to help me. I need you to remember me.” He said, the panic increasing.

“What, no they can’t take you!”

“They are. Listen baby. I love you; I need you to remember me and help them find me. You have to do this for me.” He was now holding your hands in his.

“Please no, you can’t go. I just got you. I need you.” You whined, feeling tears dripping from your eyes. The sounds of the horses were loud, and you knew you were completely surrounded by them.

“I know, baby. I don’t want this. I need you to stay strong.” He wiped away some of the tears that streamed from your eyes.

“Don’t leave me Stiles. I love you. Please.” He was now crying too.

“I’m sorry baby. I don’t have a choice.” He grabbed your head and pulled you into one last passionate kiss before the door flung open and he was pulled from the jeep. “Remember me, Y/n!” Those were the last words you heard from Stiles before he was completely gone.

“Please no!” You yelled as he disappeared from existence. The tears flowed heavier down your cheeks as the weight of the situation hit you. Stiles was gone and you weren’t sure if he would come back.

Everything hurt. Your heart ached in your chest as you cried for Stiles. It was unreal that he had been taken from you. The two of you only just realized how much you liked each other and now he was gone. The biggest fear was that you would forget him. You didn’t want that.

Holding your hands to your chest, you cried for the boy you now knew you loved. He’d been a huge reason why you were still alive after losing your parents. He pulled you from the dark depression that threatened to claim you.

The two of you had danced around your feelings for way too long, but now it had been ripped out from under you.

“Stiles please, come back! I need you.” You mumbled as the tears never ceased falling.

You glanced in the backseat to see a jacket. Stiles’ jacket. You grabbed it and as you touched it, another vision popped into your head. It was Stiles, being thrown off the horse by one of the ghost riders. The vision was so quick that you couldn’t see where he was at. But it gave you a small sense of hope that you could see him again.

The tears still fell as you grappled with the weight of the heartbreak you felt. It was like losing your parents all over again. The world felt incomplete and you weren’t sure what to do.

The fear of forgetting Stiles, made you stay right in his car. Curled up in the back seats as you mourned his disappearance and prayed he would return to you.

At some point, you managed to drift to sleep but you were plagued by nightmares of the ghost riders, taking the ones you loved. Taking Stiles from you over and over again. It was about 3 am when you were awakened with a start.

There was a loud ringing in your ears, that scared you. You noticed you were in Stiles’ car alone. The disorientation from sleep, made you forget where Stiles was. But the weight of the loss hit you like a freight train.

The ringing was coming from outside the car. You pulled yourself up and jumped the seats to get out. The ringing was loud outside the door. A flash of gold caught your eye.

Bending down, you studied the gold object. It was an old-style pocket watch. You reached down to grab it. The ringing stopped once you held the strange object.

Opening the watch, you noted that the time was stopped at 8:43. The time Stiles had been cruelly ripped from the jeep by the invisible ghost riders.

You closed the watch and turned it over. There were initials on the back. ‘GD’.

“I think that belongs to me.” A voice startled you. You turned to find an unfamiliar man behind you.

“Who are you? What are you doing here so late?” You asked, taking a step back from him.

“I’m a teacher here, and I lost track of time because well it looks like I dropped my watch out here.” There was something unsettling about him. “I’m Mr. Douglas, one of the new teachers here.” He added.

“Okay.” You watched him closely.

“Can I have my watch back?” He eyed the gold piece in your hands.

“Oh yes, here.” You handed him the watch, hoping he would leave you alone.

“Thank you, darling.” He placed the watch in his pocket. “What are you doing out here so late anyway? Alone I might add.”

“I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend.” Your heart constricted when you said that.

“Where is he?” A sick smirk entered his face. “I don’t see him around here, Y/n.”

Chills went through your body. You had never met this guy, so how the hell did he know your name.

“Uh, I have to go.” You quickly hopped back into the jeep and locked the doors. Mr. Douglas stood outside and watched you. The keys were still in the ignition, so you turned them and hoped the jeep would start. It did.

As quickly as you could, you raced away from the school in Stiles’ jeep Roscoe.

PART TWO >>

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || You’re Really Smart

A/N: As someone who has a REALLY low IQ I decided to try and change it to you’re really smart, I hope that’s okay? If no one gets the lyric reference in Namjoon’s I might cry…

Seokjin:

Namjoon had the great idea of taking everyone to an escape room for the day and here you were paired up with Jin, Taehyung and Jimin who were all walking around aimlessly as they tried to figure out the room. Namjoon had told you to go with them while he went with Jungkook and Yoongi you figured it would be a breeze and for you it was. You'd already figured out the clues but kept your mouth shut cause the boys were too busy trying to come up with it.

"Guys?" You asked looking up from the floor to meet Jin who looked like he was ready to swear at his kids, Jimin who looked about ready to cry and Taehyung who was staying calm throughout.

"Why did we do a horror escape room, I hate this," Jin said to you, you smiled at him and then whispered in his ear the answer to getting out, at least into the next room.

"How long have you known this?" You shrugged your shoulders, to you it seemed simple but according to the boys it was almost impossible for them to even see how to put any of the clues together.

(X)

You all made it out of the horror escape room in record time and Jin was throwing his arms around you,

"And this is why she's the best girlfriend." He yelled kissing your cheeks and then laughing as you pushed him away, dramatically wiping your cheeks where he'd kissed you.

"You guys cheated, she has a high IQ," Yoongi mumbled you stared at him with an eyebrow raised,

"Namjoon has a high IQ though..." Namjoon stared at you and then over at the boys who were expecting an explanation.

"Just because someone has a high IQ doesn't mean their massively smart." You told them and then Namjoon agreed with you. Both of you going into a long rant about how IQ tests are measured in different ways and not everyone has a good IQ because their minds are stronger in other ways.

Yoongi:

"Yoongi can we go back to the hotel I'm tired." You yawned to Yoongi as you walked around the streets, he'd brought you along to Amsterdam with him on tour and was trying to get some sightseeing done but you'd been up all night researching for a paper.

"Maybe if you didn't stay up all night there wouldn't be a problem." He chuckled, tapping your cheeks in an attempt to wake you up. You both walked over to a small cafe and ordered a coffee, where you stood at a table and leant your head on your hands. Eyes closed as Yoongi flipped through a tour guide book trying to find his next spot.

"This will wake you up, explain string theory to me since that's what you were researching." You nodded and thought over how you were going to explain it to him,

"It's a theoretical framework in which the point-like particles of particle physics are then replaced by one-dimensional objects, strings. The theory describes how the strings propagate through space and interact with each other...String theory is a theory of quantum gravity." He stared at you from across the table, you hadn't even opened your eyes to explain it.

"That was as if it was just stored in the back of your mind...How did you do that?" You shrugged your shoulders and opened your eyes, Yoongi was starting to look uncomfortable.

"What?" You mumbled standing up straight as he pulled you back in the direction of the car he'd rented.

"Going back to the hotel."

"To sleep?!"

"No." He smirked grabbing your hand and pulling you faster through the crowds of people so he could get to the hotel as quickly as possible with you. He'd always loved how smart you were and hearing you talk about something like String theory as if it was common knowledge made him want you more.

Hoseok:

For as long as you could remember you'd had a fascination for true crime and all things like that, your brain seemed to store all of the facts about that and not much else.

"We should enter a quiz." Jungkook said as you walked into the pub in Malta, you looked up from your phone and nodded in agreement, turning to look at Hoseok who was nodding as well,

"It'll be fun." You giggled pulling Hoseok over to a table and getting the team name ready.

"It's all based on common knowledge by the looks of it," Jungkook said as you and Hoseok giggled from across the table. You'd been dating for three years and you were still just as happy as the day he asked you out.

(X)

It was the last round and so far you were doing well for points but the last round was on true crime, Hoseok looked at you and nodded. He was the only one out of all of the boys that knew about your extensive knowledge of serial killers.

"Who knows this?" Jungkook asked in confusion, you took the paper from his hand.

"Types of a killer? Easy, organised, disorganised, and mixed." Jungkook stared at you,

"How many people did Harold Shipman kill?" Jungkook read out the next question while Hoseok watched as you answered it without blinking.

"200 but that's only ones that have been confirmed, there are a lot around him that are labelled suspicious."

You won the quiz but on the way back to the hotel Hoseok had his arm linked around your waist and Jungkook asked for facts about other serial killers,

"Ted Bundy had a collie called Lassie." You yawned as the door to your hotel was pushed open, Jungkook was wide awake and wanted to know more though. Asking question after question while Hoseok walked you into the bedroom,

"Talk about it in the morning Kookie, I'm sleepy." You whined dropping onto the bed, Hoseok following you and smiling at how brilliant his girlfriend was

Namjoon:

Namjoon had fallen in love the moment you opened your mouth to talk to him. You were both walking around a museum together, your brother had Jimin decided to bring you along and now you were alone with Namjoon, both walking in uncomfortable silence until you both got excited over the same painting. You began listing of facts about the painting and artist and Namjoon just stared as you spoke about it, and then watched as you did the same with the next painting. Now, whenever you went out on dates he found himself learning more from you than he did from the small plaques on the walls beside the paintings.

"Where do you store it all?" Taehyung asked one day while you were out with Namjoon, hands locked together as you strolled through the Natural History Museum. It turned out your facts didn't stop with art, it included History and other subjects.

"I don't know, I think my brain is like a sponge and it just soaks it all up." You giggled, Namjoon smirked and span you around under his arm,

"I don't care where it comes from, your sexy mind is my favourite." He whispered in your ear, kissing your cheek as you giggled trying to push him away. When he first met you he'd never seen the need for public displays of affection but there was just something about you, something that made him want to show everyone that you were his and he was proud of you.

"I love you." He whispered to you as Taehyung wandered off, you'd only been dating for two months but he knew it was real.

"I love you too." You whispered back to him with a smile on your face, rushing off to find Tae.

Jimin:

Much like Namjoon when he first started out in the industry, you and your group were featured on a lot of different quiz shows because you were smart.

"Next we have Jimin and Namjoon from BTS and Y/N and Lucia from H.E.A.R.T." The producer said into the camera and all of you went to introduce yourself to each other and to the cameras.

(X)

The show had gone amazingly and the whole time Jimin couldn't keep his eyes off you, he found himself watching the way you worked. How whenever there was a question partially hard you would push your glasses further onto your nose, or throw your hair into a ponytail. He was teased by the host and Namjoon for staring of course, and it only made you blush whenever you felt his eyes on you and you looked up to see him staring at you.

"Where did you learn to memorise all this stuff?" He asked when you were all standing in a changing room together,

"I don't know, I guess I've just always stored it away." You laughed looking over at Namjoon who was with your band member, talking about songs you should all work on together.

"It's so hot." Your breath hitched in your throat from how outspoken he was and you blushed a bright red colour,

"I think you're hot too." You giggled, looking at the floor as you bit down on your lip trying not to come across as too eager for him but he was now blushing.

"We should hang out sometime...Without all the quizzes, maybe get some food? Or if you're too busy maybe just a drink." You tried to hold back the small laugh and nodded, touching the top of his arm to stop him from ranting.

"I'd love that Jimin, call me sometime." You told him, writing down your number on his hand and then walking out of the changing room with your band member.

Taehyung:

Taehyung knew about your extensive knowledge of Shakespeare and used it whenever he could, right now you were sitting in the dorms with him and the rest of the boys talking about old English, Tae was in a debate with Jungkook over Charles Dickens and Shakespeare.

"Look all I'm saying is Y/n can tell you different Sonnets by heart and then the meaning behind it." You looked up from your noodles and stared at Jungkook who was staring at you, Namjoon looking up from his book to hear the argument between you all.

"Sonnet 130?" Namjoon said, closing his book. Taehyung turned to look at you and you swallowed the noodles that were half hanging out of your mouth.

"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rar. As any she belied with false compare." Namjoon blinked at you and Tae had a giant smile across his face.

"Meaning?" Yoongi questioned finding himself more invested in the conversation now you'd said a Sonnet without blinking or looking it up.

"Okay so for the shortened version it's offering the readers a different look at female beauty and what it's like to love someone with all their shortcomings and for what they don't like." You explained, going back to your food and turning to look at the TV while Tae was sitting there with a smile on his face, arm wrapped around your shoulder.

Jungkook:

You were standing in the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea when you heard Jungkook scream, you thought he'd just died in a game at first but then you heard him rushing around the living room,

"Kookie?" You questioned walking into the room to see him on his phone, you looked at the desk and his computer screen was black,

"I was in the middle of a game!" He yelled, clearly stressed out over the fact that his computer was potentially broken, he began taking it apart to see what was going on with it and then stressed even more because he couldn't figure out what was going on.

"Let me." You said throwing away the apple core and walking over, you put your glasses on and bent down on the floor.

"Wait here," You walked off upstairs and he waited for you as he looked for a new PC online but you knew he didn't need to do that, you searched through the boxes until you found it and then came bounding down the stairs carrying the power supply, taking his out and replacing it, connecting everything up to the correct holes and making sure the motherboard was linked up properly. Booting up the PC and watching as Jungkook's mouth fell open as he watched you doing it.

"What?" You questioned putting the side back onto his PC and putting it back on the desk and brushing off your hands.

"How did you know to do that?" You shrugged your shoulders and walked back into the kitchen with Jungkook asking you question after question.

tagline: 

@babymochichimmy @ficdump101 @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @yourguessisasgoodasminemate @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @rjsmochii @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel​

[soldrawss]

Does Big Bro!Mikey AU have an april or no? I think it would be nice for Mikey to have a bff april!!

April is a part of this au, yes! She started out as just a classmate of Mikey’s, they had the same homeroom in high school before Mikey dropped out the summer before his Junior year. They hadn’t really kept in contact, mostly because she only knew him by proxy (Mikey was nice and friendly to everyone, April of course included, but they didn’t have much in common, and their main friend groups were different, so they didn’t hang out much) and when Mikey all but disappeared without an explanation, she kinda just figured he moved or something, and left it at that, not giving him any thought for the next three years.

That is, until she meets him again, in the halls of Hunter College, looking like he was gonna collapse at any minute, which he kinda does, into an empty bench at the schools outside cafe and lounge area. April waffles for a few seconds, because ‘holy shit is that Mike Hamato?’ before biting the bullet and making her way over to say, “Hey, Michael right? Hi, it’s been a while. It’s April, we had homeroom together freshman and sophomore year. I haven’t seen you since Savanti Romero’s pool party. How are you?” And his smile is a slow, automatic thing at first, more out of common politeness than anything else, but then it grows into something much more genuine and glacier melting when he responds back, “April, hey, yeah, hi! Wow, has it really been that long? Man, it seems like just yesterday you were fishing Mondo and me out of the pool after one too many chicken fights. It’s good to see you!”

And catching up seemed so easy, April was almost surprised they hadn’t been better friends in high school. Though, she suspected that was mostly due to Mikey’s incredibly easy charm and naturally inviting warmth. (Dude could make friends with just about anyone)

He was a little different than how she remembered, a little more weather-worn and tired, a kinda weariness that hung off his shoulders like heavyweights. But there was still a bright shine to those penny-colored eyes, and when he smiled, it was with all the dimples and joy that she remembers so clearly from when she was 15. Holding back a laugh at the Hamato kid that was preforming springing handstands across the cafeteria just to draw attention away from the impending fight between two of their more hotheaded classmates and ease the tension out of the air in a ridiculous but effective manner.

She doesn’t ask why he left high school, it doesn’t really occur to her to ask, but after 2 hours of talking (April not even realizing she was missing her history class because she was so caught up in their catching up) he offers the information anyway.

His dad died. When he was barely 16, and he was left alone with 3 baby brothers and no other family that could help take care of them, and oh my god, he just dropped out of school to get his GED like it was the most common thing in the world and he went to work, what, 2, sometimes 3 jobs just to make enough money to support them all and April didn’t mean for tears to start pooling up because that so wasn’t fair to Mikey at all, if anyone should be crying, it should be him, but Mikey just looks a little shy and bashful about it all. “It was hard, but we got through it. And hey, now I’m working at like, this really prestigious Italian restaurant, super classy and everything! And they pay me more than I’m probably worth, but I’ll get my culinary degree in like a year, and then after that, a lot of things will change,” He says like everything in the world is just that easy, handing April a few tissues from his book bag and giving her one of those genuine, if not a little crooked, smiles of his.

Mikey promises to have lunch with her again (because April absolutely refuses to let this dandelion haired lunatic walk away from her life a second time and practically demands that they hang out again) since they both have the same free time before their respective classes at the college, and makes a show of saving her number with probably a few too many emojis as a contact name just to make her smile.

And what turned into a promise for another lunch date turned into almost a daily routine, them having lunch together on the bench, talking about classes and teachers and jobs and April’s problematic little kitten she affectionately named Mayhem and Mikey’s little brothers who are probably equally as problematic but he doesn’t have a say in what their names are, and things are fun and casual between Hamato and her.

That is, until two months later, when April gets a call from Mikey at 5pm on a Saturday.

“Donnie’s sick,” Mikey says almost breathlessly, and even without the context, April was already springing to her feet just at the sheer tension and concern in Mikey’s voice, like a taught wire about to snap. “I can’t get off work for another few hours, but I don’t want to leave him by himself with a fever. And I know this is like, putting you on the spot and really awkward and you can totally say no if you want to, but I don’t know who else to call and,-”

“Mike, it’s ok. Breathe hun,” April is saying, not unkindly pushing Mayhem off her lap and reaching for her backpack off the floor in her dorm room, stuffing a few random things in it before grabbing her jacket and her car keys off the counter. “Text me your address. I’ll be over there in 5 minutes tops.”

And it’s more of a promise than a fact, because his building is technically 20 minutes away from hers, but April makes it in 10 just by spite alone (and maybe driving a little recklessly downtown) and knocks on the door of the little apartment on the 6th floor, unit 404.

It takes a hesitant second, but then the door lock clicks open and April is greeted by warm brown eyes and a freckled face that reminds April so much of Mikey that it takes her almost a full 10 seconds before she introduces herself with an automatic smile. “Hi sweetheart, I’m April. I’m a friend of your older brother Mikey.”

Raphael, if April remembered Mikey’s brothers correctly, didn’t really need much convincing to let April in after she mentioned he was a friend of Mikey's, and doesn’t hesitate to pull her into their little apartment, leading her to the bedroom that the twins share with a small but tight little fist around hers.

“Mikey called and said you were coming. Leo’s atah sleepover, but Donnie’s in here. His head’s still hot and his voice is all scratchy, even though I made sure that he took the medicine Mikey left out. And he won’t eat anything I give him,” the 7-year-old reports diligently, much more mature than April had expected from the young child. 

April’s been babysitting since she was 11, and considering how all the neighborhood kids around her block adore her, she likes to think that she’s got a pretty solid Ph.D. in knowing how to take care of a sick pre-teen who wants nothing to do with her. So the heavy-lidded and red-eyed glare that Donatello shoots at her from under his covers is duly noted but otherwise ignored as she gently knocks on the door and slowly follows a much less hesitant Raphael into the bedroom.

It takes a while, a long while, for Donatello, no, Donnie, to warm up to her, but he gets there eventually, with the help of Raphael, Raph, who’s hanging off of Aprils shoulders, having warmed up to her almost immediately simply because ‘any friend of Mikey’s is a friend of ours Dee! Don’t be mean and eat some soup!’

After realizing that Donnie just had a little cold, and was in no real danger even with a fever, Raph seemed to cheer up immensely, and was more than willing to help answer all of April’s questions about what medicine Donnie had taken, any allergies, the last time he ate, and even helped her make some egg drop soup since they didn’t have enough ingredients of chicken noodle, which Donnie put up a fight about, but eventually took after one look of Raph’s puppy dog eyes.

Donnie was out like a light 15 minutes later, after taking some night time cough medicine and April sent a reassuring text to Mikey two hours later when his fever finally broke, to which Mikey replied with an explosion of heart emoji’s that April couldn’t rightly decipher other than he was happy about it.

Mikey got home at 11 that night, and April had to flag him down quietly from where she sat trapped under a sleeping, pj clad Raph on the couch; a Jupiter Jim movie marathon playing on the tv. 

“Thank you so much, April,” Mikey said to her in the kitchen 20 minutes later, handing her a cup of hot tea. He had efficiently plucked Raph off of April’s lap like a pro with years of experience, putting him into his own bed before checking on a still sleeping Donnie, whose face was no longer a burnt red from his fever earlier. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I don’t get my paycheck till next week, so I can’t really pay you right now, but I brought home some chocolate mousse cake from my work that you can have until I can-” “You didn’t tell me you worked at Huesso’s!” April didn’t shout, because there were two kids sleeping down the hallway, as she grabbed the bag Mikey had offered to her. “Dude, their deserts are like, crazy good! I love their cheesecake, but they’re stupid expensive and you have to get a reservation like, 4 months in advance to get in.” And April uses the change in topics as a distraction because there was no way she’d let Mikey try to pay her for helping out, she didn’t even want that to be an option. April didn’t do this for the money. She wanted to help out Mikey out. She liked Mikey. She thought he was funny and charming and had a heart big enough to cradle the entire world if he was as big as all the love he has. And she adored being around his baby brothers.

April grins at Mikey when she opens the box, and slides her finger over the glossy frosting of the cake and licks her fingers of the chocolatey goodness before she says, “Listen, if I could convince you to bring me home deserts from this place, then I’ll hang out with the boys anytime you want me too. You have my number, literally call me anytime, for any reason, and I’m here.”

[ourimpavidheroine]

You always post your writing soundtracks. Mind sharing your top ten albums with us?

I actually laughed when I read this because I’m thinking of the Anon who complained that all of my music was OLD. I mean. I’m old! What did you expect?

Never mind me, I’m easily amused. Thank you for using the word album so I would not feel like Lady Danbury with my lethal cane.

Yes, sure I can do that! I don’t know that these are my forever and ever amen top ten, but they are the ones that are coming to mind right now. So.

Under a cut, it’s long. 

In no particular order.

Brutal Youth - Elvis Costello

My ex-husband was in love with Elvis Costello and who could blame him? The man is a genius lyricist. This is not one of his more commercially popular albums but I love every single track. (I also lined up at Ticketmaster in Oakland, CA when the man was touring in order to get tickets for my ex. I got there at midnight and spent the night, meeting a group of drag queens who were getting tickets to see Barbara Streisand. God, that was a fun night, we ate donuts one of them went on a donut run for and sang showtunes for hours. One of my favorite memories.) This verse, from Clown Strike, is one that has resonated with me since I first heard it.

Tell me what you want of me Or are you terrified of failure? You put on a superstitious face Behind all this paraphernalia We're not living in a masquerade Where you only have three wishes It isn't easy to see In a lifetime of mistaken kisses

Unrepentant Geraldines - Tori Amos

I remember the first time I heard a Tori Amos song. It was the summer directly after I’d graduated from college, I was driving my ex-husband’s car and Silent All These Years came on the radio and I was just fucking gobsmacked. I bought Little Earthquakes that day and haven’t looked back. I have all her albums. I am a big, big fan.

Unrepentant Geraldines, though. God. It came out the year before my wife died and it got me through her death. The song Weatherman is about a man losing his wife, and how he sees her in the nature surrounding him. 

And. 

No, sorry, I can’t write more about this, not right now. But I sing it to her sometimes. 

He is not a weatherman But his bride lies with the land And she will whisper to him I'll be dressing up in snow Cloaked in echo it's almost As if only Nature knows How to paint his wife to life With every season's tone "One more look from her eyes One more look can you paint her back to life"

Ray of Light - Madonna

This album got me through my divorce from my ex-husband. I’d go out every single day during my lunch hour, this on my walkman, and walk and walk and walk until I got myself in enough control to go back and finish my work day. It’s a great album and I still listen to it a lot. It empowers me. And then my daughter was born and Ray of Light has always been her song to me, even though that wasn’t the song on the album that Madonna herself wrote for her daughter.

Faster than the speeding light she's flying Trying to remember where it all began She's got herself a little piece of heaven Waiting for the time when Earth shall be as one And I feel like I just got home And I feel And I feel like I just got home And I feel

Seven and the Ragged Tiger - Duran Duran

This one was a difficult choice. For one thing, I really love their album Big Thing, which almost nobody’s heard about but one I love deeply. This one though...I think it’s the memories, including going to see them at the Oakland Coliseum with my cousin during their tour for this album and finding out they were partially filming the video for The Reflex that night. I like to think of us as being one of those girls in the audience. (Although I wasn’t screaming. I am a Capricorn. Have some dignity.) Duran Duran were responsible for my first fanfic and I’ve had a love for them since my Dad bought me their first album for my 13th birthday. I am nothing if not loyal. I have all of their early albums, all of their 12″ singles, too, including Secret Oktober, which I have always loved with a passion.

Also, Roger Taylor can still get it.

Freefall on a windy morning shore nothing but a fading track of footsteps Could prove that you never been there Spoken on a cotton cloud like the sound of gunshot taken by the wind And lost in distant thunder racing on a shining plain And tomorrow you'll be content to watch as the lightning plays along the wires and you'll wonder

Touch - Eurythmics

Another band I still love and listen to on the regular. Annie Lennox could sing me the telephone book and I’d be thrilled. Seeing her at age 14 in the Sweet Dreams video for the first time in my Grandmother’s living room quite literally woke something in me that led to moving across the world for a woman years later. (GOD.) I have all of their albums and choosing a favorite is difficult but this one won by a narrow margin, if only for the song Regrets, which is one of the songs that describes me until I became a mother, really. Like I RESONATED with that song. Still does in certain ways, if I am being truthful to myself.

I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I've got a delicate mind I've got a dangerous nature And my fist collides With your furniture I'm an electric wire And I'm stuck inside your head

Combat Rock - The Clash

Ah, teenage Impavid first understanding that music can also be political. Listen, I didn’t know much about what was going on outside of my own miniscule sphere - I was young and the internet didn’t exist yet. We got what news we got from our local paper and TV stations and they weren’t really reporting on what was happening in the world, not in 1982, let me fucking assure you. I got this album because my Dad was a part time DJ at a radio station that played mostly country music and the general manager of the station would just toss the rest of the non-country albums they’d get as promotions. My Dad would bring them home to me to listen to. You can imagine thirteen year old me listening to this album that opened with “This is a public service announcement - with guitars!” going WHAT THE FUCK? Let me just say there were a lot of trips to the library to read various newspapers after that.

Not to mention Rock the Casbah. What was a muezzin? I had no idea. I spent half a year reading books about Islam, about the Middle East and Northern Africa, which led to a curiosity about other religions beyond the Roman Catholicism in which I’d been raised, about other cultures as well. This album and The Color Purple by Alice Walker were the two things in my teen years that woke me the fuck up.

Now the king told the boogie men You have to let that raga drop The oil down the desert way Has been shakin' to the top The sheik he drove his Cadillac He went a' cruisin' down the ville The muezzin was a' standing On the radiator grille

Synchronicity - The Police

This fucking album. This fucking album. This album reached deep down into me and pulled out my soul and kicked it around for awhile. Every single song on this album hit me like a brick wall. Still does. Most likely always will.

Listen, you either like King of Pain or you live it. There’s no in between.

There's a little black spot on the sun today It's the same old thing as yesterday There's a black hat caught in a high tree top There's a flag pole rag and the wind won't stop I have stood here before inside the pouring rain With the world turning circles running 'round my brain. I guess I'm always hoping that you'll end this reign, But it's my destiny to be the king of pain...

Sign O’ The Times - Prince 

The soundtrack to my University days. Jesus, it starts out with “In France a skinny man died of a big disease with a little name,” and it just keeps going. Pain, sex, wonder, glory, politics, love. It’s all there. I wore the vinyl out on this one. Amazing, amazing album. In fact, I still play it so often my kids practically know it by heart, and they don’t even like Prince!

To this day I think If I Was Your Girlfriend is the sexiest song ever written.

I will tell you this much: Sayuri’s main writing soundtrack song is Starfish and Coffee off the album, the same song I used to sing my kids as a lullaby. This should tell you a lot about her.

Cynthia wore the prettiest dress With different color socks Sometimes I wondered if the mates where in her lunchbox Me and Lucy opened it when Cynthia wasn't around Lucy cried, I almost died, U know what we found? Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam Butterscotch clouds, a tangerine And a side order of ham If U set your mind free, honey Maybe you'd understand Starfish and coffee Maple syrup and jam

Nina Simone Sings The Blues - Nina Simone

This was one of my Daddy’s albums. He loved it and so did I. As a child I just loved the sound of her voice - something in it both soothed me and pulled at me, made me want to run and just keep running. She still makes me feel like that. If you don’t know Nina Simone I urge you to change that, right now. There’s nobody at all like her. She’s irreplaceable. All of her material is good, not just her blues songs. Not to mention, she was an absolute brilliant genius at the piano, never mind the strength she had as a Black woman in a time when doors were shut in her face on a daily basis. Seriously. Read about her.

When I became a woman, of course, her songs took on a much deeper meaning for me, one that I could relate to. Isn’t that the hallmark of a good album, though? One that stays with you and changes with you? I think so.

If you’ve never heard her cover of I Put A Spell On You then do yourself a favor and go right now and listen. You’re welcome.

Oh and Buck from this album? Nuo to Wing, right there.

Also one of the sexiest songs ever written, this one. Especially how she sings it. The Hot Frenchman (have I ever told you about The Hot Frenchman? no? OH BOY THERE’S A STORY) told me he thought it was about drugs and I was like, honey, this tells me a whole lot about you, more than you probably wanted it to.

I want a little sugar In my bowl I want a little sweetness Down in my soul I could stand some lovin' Oh so bad I feel so funny and I feel so sad I want a little steam On my clothes Maybe I can fix things up So they'll go Whatsa matter Daddy Come on, save my soul I need some sugar in my bowl I ain't foolin' I want some sugar in my bowl

I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got - Sinéad O’Connor

This is a beautiful album, full of pain and joy, her hallmark. She sings every single word with everything in her; she’s far too intense for many, many people (and while she’s been open with her mental health struggles I’ve often wondered if she isn’t somewhere on the spectrum as well) but never for me. Her raw honesty has always appealed to me. She’s political, she’s a lover, a mother, a survivor of horrific abuse, someone who keeps reinventing herself as a way to find her way through pain. I always feel, when I am listening to her music, that I am bearing witness. I’m not afraid of pain; I’ve survived it as well. This album, one of her oldest, is still my favorite.

The line “You used to hold my hand when the plane took off” is the most evocative lyric I have ever heard with regards to the ending of love. It’s a punch to the heart - she felt it and she shared it with us, her fragile heart in her palms. Oh, Sinéad.

This is the last day of our acquaintance I will meet you later in somebody's office I'll talk but you won't listen to me I know what your answer will be I know you don't love me anymore You used to hold my hand when the plane took off Two years ago there just seemed so much more And I don't know what happened to our love

[marveloussupernerd]

Could I pretty please request Zen and MC ~platonically~ getting hammered together and just getting into shenanigans? I’m a ✨lesbian✨ and still reslly would love to have these characters as best friends, especially zen because he seems like such a ride or die. If I could have one wish it would be getting plastered with Zen and him making sure I don’t die. Thank you in advance and feel free to reject this one lol

Yes !!! Ofc I can do that :) also I have literally never rejected a request LMAO I’m here for your enjoyment. I’m rlly excited to write this bc everyone is SLEEPING on zen and also ?? The Zen friendship content in Jumin’s route? I’ll never shut up about how much I love it. Also I threw Yoosung in here too pls don’t hate me

Clubbing - Platonic! Zen

Warnings: alcohol (duh lmao)

Summary: you’ve had a rough day at work. Zen’s been meaning to show you around to some of his favorite bars. Zen’s responsible but also wouldn’t hesitate to punch a bitch if need be. Yoosung has to clean up after your messes

Oh! Also. PSA, I’m 19. So have I ever gone out and gotten drunk... no LMAO. I do drink (it’s legal where I’m at as long as you’re with your parents, still wouldn’t be able to drink in a bar though) but only enough to get buzzed usually. Anyway if this is inaccurate that’s why I am so sorry LMAO

You honestly had had the worst day today. It was a pretty bad week, truth be told, and you were so grateful it was the weekend. You texted Zen a lot throughout this week; the two of you had become close friends since the RFA party and hung out almost every weekend. Hearing all about your bad days, he suggested taking you to a bar to let off some steam and give you something to look forward to. You’d never turn down a drink.

You took an Uber to the bar, as did Zen. You expressed your desire to get plastered and Zen agreed wholeheartedly. You had never been to this bar before, but Zen swore by it, so you trusted him.

“Hey!” Zen exclaimed as he saw you get out of the car. He was leaning against the wall of the bar coolly, dressed in the leather jacket he must have pulled out of his closet from the time he was in a motorcycle gang.

“This better be worth the commute,” you teased, not letting him live down the fact that it took almost an hour to get here (primarily due to traffic honestly).

“Oh it will,” he had a giant grin on his face. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t been here in a while, but i doubt it’s changed.” He pushed himself off the wall and made his way inside alongside you. “It’s right outside of a college so you get all the fun college students here.”

“Sounds messy,” you commented, glancing at some girls in skimpy crop tops and high-waisted shorts getting drunk already.

“Much better than bars for real adults. You’ve always got some guy moping over a glass of whiskey in those. Here, it’s all singing and dancing and getting drunk. Of course, I only come when I want to get completely hammered, but it’s always fun. The kids are nice too.”

It was at this point that you reminded yourself that Zen was only 23. He seemed so much older because he’s been on his own for so long, but nope, he was 23. The same age as a lot of the grad students here. So partying with them was not weird or creepy in any sort of way. In fact, the students probably were over the moon to party with someone so famous and, if they weren’t aware of who he was, handsome.

“So what do you typically start with here?” You asked, wanting to get the full experience.

“Shots. Classic move, especially for the med school students. You’ll see them soon enough. They start off with fireball but then make their way down to the cheapest vodka they have as they get more drunk and can’t actually taste it.”

“Let’s follow their influence,” you suggested. Zen went up to the bar and ordered some shots, bringing four glasses back with him. “Do they normally do two at once?” You asked.

“Nah, they’re way too broke for that. But I thought it’d be fun.” He handed you your shot glass and clinked his against it. You gulped down the shot, feeling the familiar fire burn in your throat. (I love fireball LMAO) You shook your head vigorously to counteract the burn, as though that would help, then looked back at Zen. “Good?” He asked.

“Perfect. Round 2?”

“Already?”

You laughed. “Well, it’s here isn’t it? The faster we can get drunk the better.”

You got drunk pretty fast. Zen was constantly handing you drinks, which of course you didn’t turn down. Maybe it was because the two of you hadn’t gotten drunk in a while, but this one hit you hard.

“Will you sing karaoke with me?” Zen chuckled, his cheeks flushed from all the alcohol in his system.

You laughed out loud. “Sure. I’ll even let you pick the song.”

You did not expect him to pick “Before He Cheats” but honestly? A banger of a song. Who doesn’t know all the words to this song?? “Hey, I’m Zen, and this is my best friend,” he slurred out, introducing you before the song started.

You sang in unison, the first instrumental break coming out. “This is for my asshole ex!” You cheered. The college students cheered with you.

“And all my old managers who told me I’d never make it!” Zen added. Everyone cheered again. You walked over to him, tripping on the microphone cord. He caught you a few inches off the ground.

“That would’ve hurt like a bitch,” you commented, bursting into laughter again. He helped you up and held your hand as you crossed over the wires this time, ensuring you wouldn’t get caught again.

Was your performance good? Probably not. Even Zen, who usually sang pretty well, was some sort of hot mess since he was so drunk. But the drunk students seemed to enjoy it, so you padded off the ‘stage’, proud of yourself.

Some dude called your name. Ew. Maybe Zen shouldn’t have introduced you.

Zen whipped around to face him. “If you so much as look at her right now I swear to God I’ll knock you into- Yoosung?”

“Hi!” You turned around to see the origin of the voice; it was indeed Yoosung. “You guys are kinda drunk.”

The two of you simply laughed, brushing him off. “What are you doing here?” Zen asked.

“Oh, well I live right down the street.”

“Oh my goodness you are a college student!” You observed keenly. You were connecting so many dots.

“Yup. Uh, I had an LOLOL event tonight but was super tired, so I thought I’d come and take a shot and it’d help wake me up. Never expected to see you two belting out Carrie Underwood.” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh! I have a great idea,” Zen exclaimed, focusing his attention on you.

“I’d love to hear it.”

“Why don’t we just crash at Yoosung’s place tonight? We won’t have to pay for an Uber at high time and get stuck in traffic!”

Yoosung’s eyes widened. “But-“

“That’s pretty smart,” you agreed, nodding. “What do you think Yoosung?”

“I-“ he sighed. “I guess it’s okay. As long as I can play LOLOL.”

“Yay!” You cheered. “We can go now. Lead the way.”

Yoosung hesitantly led you out to the street, walking ahead of the two of you, glancing back every few seconds to ensure you hadn’t died. Zen wrapped an arm around you and you one around him, and you stumbled down the street together, only slightly more stable than you would have been if it were just you on your own.

Luckily Yoosung lived on the first floor. You weren’t sure you’d be able to do steps right now. He unlocked the door to his apartment. “I only have like... a bed and a couch,” he muttered awkwardly. “But we can figure something out.”

You stepped into his apartment, looking around. “Wow Yoosung! This is cute as hell.”

“Uh, thanks, I think.”

You made your way to his couch and collapsed down on it. Zen did so on the other end of the couch at the same time, your legs bumping into each other. You both shifted so that your legs were on top of his so that it was more comfortable.

“Is that really comfortable? You can take my bed,” Yoosung offered.

“Nah, this is great. Will you get us a blankie though?” You asked. Yoosung left to go find something. Zen shrugged off his leather jacket. You were very happy you wore something comfy enough to crash in.

Yoosung draped a blanket over the two of you, his face bright red. “Is this okay?”

“Perfect! Thanks Dad,” Zen joked. Yoosung’s face got even more red, his ears heating up now too.

“Night Yoosungie. Don’t stay up all night,” you commented, shutting your eyes.

You heard something set down on the coffee table. Cups of water and Advil. He was too sweet. “I have class in the morning, so feel free to see yourself out whenever you’re up and ready tomorrow,” Yoosung said. “Goodnight you two.” He chuckled to himself. You and Zen probably looked like absolute idiots, but not that you cared. You had a great night out. Good thing Dad Yoosung was there too.

[thegc4life]

Do you any other Hawks fic ideas you'd like to write? Or is Hawks-sensei all you've got on your mind right now?

Wyv. You know not what you ask. I have to put them in categories, Wyv. Categories.

Kid!Hawks:

-Kid!Hawks growing up with the LOV (both as a permanent thing and various ridiculous drabbles) This involves Unwilling Big Brother Shigaraki, scarily willing Big SisterToga who knows all the coolest knife tricks, Best Uncle Twice who sometimes on his real good days doubles as temporary Dad, the Dad who teaches you how to hot wire cars and laugh people’s money straight out of their wallets Compress, mother-henning can-not-leave-you-alone-for-one-god-damn-minute Spinner, True Mom Kurogiri, Big Sis Mag who seems to be the only actual one that realizes that children need to sleep at some point for the love of god, extremely confused but horrifically soft Dabi who may or may not eventually turn his whole life around because of this feathered idiot that needs someone to make sure he lives a happy life whether it be a permanent shrinking or not. Oh, and Machia. The best Mountain Monster Dog brother (?) a boy could ask for.

-Kid!Hawks with UA (staff edition) also both in temporary and permanent circumstances. Temporary is already in progress. Permanent? Oh boy, permanent world. They raise him within UA so as to keep him from the Commission. Hawks often sits in on their classes with coloring books, picture books, or just to sit there and watch them. He is very smart. He picks up on things, but mostly he just likes being around all the staff. He picks a new person to sleep with every week because some of them have really shitty sleep schedules and even as a kid he knows they would feel bad keeping him up, thus forcing them to go to bed through good-person guilt so he tragets the sleepiest looking people for the week (hint: Aizawa gets picked a lot, and even if he’s not sleep deprived Hawks would pick him because he adores his grumpy cat Dad). Thirteen does crafts with him all the time. She watches every kid show and gets really into it with him. Hawks and Mic make the meals and they sing the entire time. They sing together throughout the day. Hawks will chirp out a line of notes and out of nowhere Hizashi will burst in to sing the lyrics. Midnight reads him bedtime stories cause her voices are the best. She does his nails and lets him do hers. He practices on the UA students to surprise her with new designs (the students fall over their own feet to offer to be his test subject). Snipe does little challenges with him. Things that, while technically helping him get used to controlling his quirk, are more fun than anything else because Hawks enjoys using his feathers in games. Hawks dresses up like a cowboy for an entire month, quoting old western movies and driving everyone but a very proud Snipe up the wall. Hound Dog and Hawks go on walks together ALL THE TIME. They explore the woods around UA and Hound Dog tells Cementoss to change up the geography every once in a while so they have something new to explore. He teaches Hawks how to go camping and Hawks fricken adores him and is always on his shoulders just kicking his feet or napping in Hound Dogs hair. Ectoplasm is Hawks favorite person to play any kind of tag based game because the others are too easy to catch with his feathers. But with Ectoplasm and all his clones? hawks goes nuts. Ectoplasm cried once when Hawks asked Aizawa for peg legs for Halloween and when someone asks him if he wants to be a pirate he says no because he wants to be a super cool hero like Ecto for Halloween. No one will be as cool as him. Hawks fricken loves Vlad. Like, adores him. Whenever Vlad is in the room Hawks will just go hang off his shoulders, or tuck under his arms with a book to read, or just lean against him. He has a little stuffed bull dog that has Vlad’s exact resting bitch face and carries it with him every time he leaves the dorm because he feels safer with it. He goes to Vlad when he’s injured because Vlad just takes care of it, gives him a hug, and doesn’t tell him to be more careful. Just asks if Hawks learned something and moves on. Hawks and Nezu are penpals. They see eachother every single day, but they are penpals. Hawks grows up with the most beautiful calligraphy handwriting because he keeps trying to out-do Nezu’s. He absolutely tattles on every single teacher in these letters, giving Nezu years worth of blackmail. Hawks thinks Nezu is a stuffed animal until he is fourteen because Nezu never fesses up. He just thinks the staff is even cooler for letting a stuffed animal run the place. He only ever cries around Nezu.

-Kid!Hawks UA(Student edition): So many. There’s lines I’ve written where they’re still in school when Hawks is kidified. When they’re already pros. In Canon, in Hawks-sensei, I even a small blurb sentence of Deku running a preschool that Hawks gets put into in an AU with quirks still. I can’t even... there’s too many students, cause I’d do all 1-A and 1-B. My favorite one to randomly wake up in a panick and write about though is the one where it’s Hawks-sensei verse based and Kid!Hawks gets taken in by the Monoma family. Rui and Eiko are older and Monoma is a pro-hero by then. The pure amount of fluff, sass, and Hawks spoiling that will happen. Big Brother Rui and Bigger Sister Eiko.  I think about this one a lot.

-I’m currently (slowly but progressing) writing a gift for @saltwater-sweets where Kid!Hawks is taken in by the Uraraka family. Like, he’s not even shrunk in this one. Uraraka’s newlywed parents were involved in the accident he first saved people in and they found him before the Commission. They realized his homelife situation and opened their home to him and now he is Uraraka’s big brother and that one line I threw out there? About him being a global superpower in household moving? Teaming up with Uraraka for that? Yeah.

-Kid!League of Villains and adult Hawks. Yeah, you heard me. They all get shrunk instead of him. And he can’t just... turn them in. They’re kids. They haven’t done any of the crimes their older counterparts have. And if it’s a permanent thing? They stay kids? Then he has a chance to really, truly save them. To give them the happy lives stolen from them. The Commission doesn’t like that. So Hawks takes them and runs. Dabi can be an adult too, I guess, if that’s the ship or something, but I just really wanna write Kid!LOV and Dad!Hawks.

-Kid!Aizawa. Dad!Hawks. Same concept. Beautiful dream. Need I say more.

-Kid!Hawks, Best Jeanist

-Kid!Hawks Gang Orca

-Kid!Hawks RUMI!!

Vigilante Hawks:

- Raven was born and I dived down that rabbit hole so fast I went back in time. Raven. But from a way earlier age. Those guys mugging Hawks when he was fifteen? The spark. Hawks stayed on the streets, he never went back, and he learned some things. He got some freedom, learned some shit, and realized that hero society was pretty fucked up. Shigaraki starts the LOV up and realizes there’s this whole underground community he was never aware of that Hawks has been building for years. It’s great.

-Hawks was never found by the Commission so he was never ‘Hawks’. His Dad raised him as a criminal but Hawks, with his little heart of gold, took every chance he could to make something good out of the bad deeds. Then he got old enough and he took full control. You ever seen the Levi OVA’s of Attack on Titan? Where he’s walking down the stairs and you realize every single person there is part of a huge ass gang of awesome with Levi at the head? That. THAT.

-Hawks loses his shit in Canon and goes completely AWOL. full Feral. He sees the problems, and he is prepared to do whatever it takes get rid of them. Whatever it takes.

AU Hawks

-Horribly injured, recently retired at the ripe old age of 23, and looking for something to save him from depression. Hawks meets Todoroki Fuyumi who gets him a job at her school. This one makes my brain happy.

-Takami Keigo and Todoroki Natsuo meet in college, graduate together, join the same hospital, and open one as partners as soon as they can. Ship or no ship, they go through their entire lives together. (I just... I really like the Todoroki sibs, okay?)

-Takami Keigo was born a lot earlier. So much, earlier, in fact that he is classmates with this overly optimistic ball of light named Yagi Toshinori and the grumpy ball of flame Todoroki Enji. Big Three anyone? Also, everyone needs a dumb smart birb to keep them sane. Hawks loves his friends, and he’ll kick anyone’s ass that tries to hurt them be it physically, mentally, or emotionally. Also, he meets Nana. 

-I LOVE THE IMAGINARY KAMAKIRI FAMILY DYNAMIC OKAY?! literally anything with Hawks involved in their lives, okay?! I did not expect to spiral so hard when I made up Hideo and his relationship with Kamakiri but my god did I spiral! I just really love them!

-I’m a sucker for the classics. Tattoo/flower. Coffee shop. College. Roommates. Love. 

- (she made me write this) a story surrounding the amazing love story of my sister and Iida Tenya with Aizawa crashes the wedding even though he was invited and Mirio is her maid of honor, with Eri as the ring bearer, and All Might is the flower girl. Twice is the officiator. Uraraka releases a flock of fake pigeons (not real ones cause they don’t deserve that). Oh, and everyone else is there too, I guess. Except for Mineta. Cause he’s in jail.

Right now, at this very moment, I can not for the life of me think of any others but I KNOW there’s at least seven more that I just can’t remember because my brain is work dead. Wyv. @wyvernspirit do you see what you’ve opened here? Close the box! Close it before it’s too late! There is always more! I am never without MORE ideas!

[guessimjoiningthespidermanfandom]

The Zone

Peter Parker x bisexual!reader

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Peter Parker x black!reader

Peter Parker x villain!reader 

Warnings: Mentions of violence, bruising, allusions to corrupt government, drug use, underage drinking, knives, mentions of neo-nazis, bad eating and sleeping habits, a mention of sex, mentions of death and the dead. 

Word Count: 3.7k

Songs: Changes- Charles Bradley, 4 Morant- Doja Cat, Prey-  The Neighborhood, Stay Together- Noah Cyrus, Without me- Eminem, Colors- Halsey, Where’s My Juul??-Full Tac, Pork Soda-Glass Animals, Everyday- A$AP Rocky, Facts- Kanye West,  Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?, Immortal- J.Cole, High Enough- K,Flay, Drugs- UPSAHL.

A/N: This is pretty short but it’s also the fasest I’ve released a chapter after the other was released.

Series Masterlist   Previous Part   Next Part

I smashed the keypad multiple times with the handle of a knife before the metal finally fell. I pulled all the wires out before hearing the words ‘System Malfunction’. 

If I hadn’t disarmed the alarm system already. I’d probably be worried right about now. I manually slid open the cell door. 

That’s when she glanced up at me.

“Took you look enough,” She smirked. 

“I could’ve gotten you out sooner if you didn’t get your ass locked up in solitary,” I tossed her the Black Cat suit. 

“You know I still don’t know your name or what you look like,” She stated pulling the suit up “and I don’t think that's fair seeing as you know those things about me,” She cooed. 

I pulled my mask over my face “It’s Y/N. Happy now?” 

“Wow I always knew your voice sounded attractive, matches the face,” 

“Okay, we can kiss my ass later but now we have about 2 minutes to get out before the guards come and get us,” 

Leaving the building the same way I came in through the vent. You’d think they’d have better security. I was thankful they didn’t when we finally reached the car. 

“Who’s car is this?” Felicia asked hopping in the passenger seat. 

“Dunno,” I said, putting the car in the drive. 

“Hold on tight,” I warned before ramming into the fence at full speed successfully knocking it down. 

I was definitely not holding my breath that whole time. And I definitely was not doubting myself. Okay maybe I was, a little.

“I’m surprised that actually worked, none of this was planned at all,” I laughed in relief.

She laughed along with me 

“Plans are for the ‘good guys’, if you’re smart enough you don’t need plans,” 

“If that’s not the truth,” I replied turning onto a deserted road “You owe me again, I’m not counting, but I believe the score’s 3:1,” 

She was right, you never need a plan. Second moral to the story is that even “villains” never work alone. I know I always talk that “every man for themselves” mess but everyone needs a support team. And for people who supposedly have no morals they haven’t betrayed me yet. 

There are the bad guys and then there are the bad guys. The heroes didn’t seem to care which you were, they just wanted you locked up or dead and to get all the glory for it. I think it’s time one of us gets the glory.

“Ow!” I exclaimed, pulling myself out of my thoughts. 

“Sorry,” Olivia muttered, “You need to be still,” She said, dabbing a cloth on my leg. 

“Well it’s hard to be still when your leg is burning,” 

I was expecting some jab or joke like normal but it was silent. She looked up at me and I could see the tears forming in her eyes. 

“Y/N…” Her eyes drifted over my bruised and cut up body, her voice breaking. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, I promise I’m fine,” 

“How am I supposed to believe that when you won’t tell me anything?”

“I don’t tell you anything cause then you’d worry,” 

“Well I’m already worried!” 

The next day of school was very ordinary. Well as ordinary as it got when you were a kid who was wanted in multiple cities. My body wasn’t as sore as it was the day before, the bruises were clearing up, but honestly these new weapons were no joke. I’d seen them burn straight through buildings and a ferry now. Anyways like I was saying before today was ordinary, nothing exciting unfortunately. 

Rich kids in Queens take homecoming a little too seriously. For the most part, I’m not complaining penthouse parties were fun. Rich white kids love their molly. 

Harry Osborn was one of those rich kids. If we’re being honest I feel like he does coke on occasion. I don’t think he actually liked homecoming all that much seeing as he’s pretty new to our school. I just think he likes being able to brag about his parties and get wasted at parties. 

One of those parties would be the one I was getting ready for right now. 

Olivia walked into the bathroom and stood in the doorway. This bathroom was very modern as well as the whole house. Like an art gallery.

“Hey kitten,” I said since she wasn’t going to say anything. 

“Hey,” 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked.

“You know how I feel about Harry’s parties,” 

That I did, her dad and Harry’s dad seemed to have some sort of beef. That I didn’t care enough to get into. But Olivia's family took it pretty seriously. I guess I could say Felicia and Olivia’s family. It’s still weird to see them as siblings. It’s not surprising, just weird. Just a weird family of kleptomaniacs. 

This isn’t something I say often but I looked really hot. Like really fucking hot. I had even winged eyeliner. A nice black tube top. A pastel pink tennis skirt. I had black thong type thing on, you could see the thin straps resting on my waist from above the skirt. It wasn’t like I was trying to get fucked or anything because I was not planning on being the slightest bit of sober. 

I also had thigh high socks on but only because they could conceal a knife and I’d been on high alert lately. Just because I wasn’t going to be sober didn’t mean I couldn’t protect myself. It's a sort of muscle memory when it comes to knives, at least with me 

If I wore this anywhere near the kids at my old school they’d probably call me a wannabe white girl, but those kids aren’t there and they have no part of my life anymore. 

I just wanted to get so fucked up that I couldn’t think at all. 

I couldn’t help but think. That’s all I could do lately. My brain wouldn’t slow down to let me breathe for even one second. I just wanted to breathe and go to bed. I still can’t sleep. At least now I have a valid reason. I don’t like talking about it because it’s not a big deal or anything, but today is the anniversary of-. It’s the day Rose died. No use sugarcoating it. It passes every year, no use being in my feels about it. Couldn’t help it though, every year I’d get sad about it for about 5 minutes until I did so many drugs that I couldn’t blink. 

As soon I stepped into the house. I was hit with the buzz I hadn’t felt in a while. I missed it too. It wasn’t like Liz’s “party” her thing could’ve been fun but the whole headache, Vulture thing and lack of drugs made it suck. 

Anyways who cares about that. I’d been at this school long enough to know who had molly. I’d either have to flirt with them or pay which I was down for either. 

See I knew the chewlery gem rod I had attached to a necklace would come in handy one of these days. Now I wouldn’t bite my mouth. 

Only problem is I could still think.  Which wasn’t good. There was some sort of jungle juice on the table but I just went straight for a bottle of beer sitting on the counter, because I was shaking too much to pour anything. 

Beer has to be the nastiest form of alcohol out there. It looks like pee, tastes like pee, it’s like they didn’t bother trying to mask the taste of yeast in it. 

My body was vibrating in a good way as I started talking to people. By the time I’d made small talk with the third person around me. I’d finished the beer and I went back to the kitchen to fill a cup with some form of alcohol and soda I wasn’t picky. Harry must’ve had the same idea. 

“Hey,” He said. 

“Hey, where’s your groupie,” I said referring to the blonde that’d I seen around him earlier. 

“You mean Gwen?” He said, bringing a solo cup to his lips. 

“Probably,” I moved over grabbing the orange soda next to me. 

“Why’re you wondering, jealous?” He asked being his signature flirtatious self. There was this one time that we… you know. But we were both drunk so it doesn’t count. 

“You wish I was jealous,” I rolled my eyes “We both know you're the one obsessed with me,” I laughed. 

“Yep, dream about you every night,” He joked back. 

I took a sip from my drink squinting as it slightly burned my throat. 

“I’m sure you do,” I headed out of the kitchen. 

I could feel my brain slowing down as I started to calm. That was until Facts by Kanye came on. Then suddenly it felt like my blood was boiling in my veins and I couldn’t breathe and not in the good way. I made my way to the nearest bathroom and hoped no one was making out in there. 

I opened the door and the coast was clear. 

I splashed water on my face. When I looked in the mirror my pupils were dilated and my face was flush. Normally my skin tone masked the effects of blushing but not this time.

 I wasn’t drunk. Maybe I was but I wasn’t enough. I was still laying on the bathroom floor because it was cold and felt good in contrast against my hot skin. I was going through my phone and landed on Peter’s number. I texted him because I was bored and I can text whoever I want. 

you: helo 

About thirty seconds later he responded, guess he was already on his phone. 

P 😜🤚: Hey 

you: do yuo like pengwings

pengns 

fck 

penguns 

penguins 

He read the messages and responded rather quickly 

P 😜🤚: ? 

You okay? 

you: yesh im fine d you like penfuins 

P 😜🤚: Are you drunk 

you: no im nt drunk i m jst hPpy 

P 😜🤚: yeah sure, where are you. 

Before I could think, I clicked the option to send location. Even if I did think it wouldn’t have done much help. None of my thoughts were coherent. I was actually happy, like really really happy. 

I was still laying on the ground when I felt the floor vibrate with the knock at the door. 

“Who is it?” I asked. 

“Peter,” The voice called out

“Come in!” I said in a sing-songy voice. 

He opened the door slowly and looked around before looking down at me. 

“Hiii,” 

“Hey, what are you doing on the floor,” 

I shrugged after slowly pushing off the floor so I wouldn’t lose balance.

“How’d you get here?” Since I know he couldn’t drive. 

“I got an Uber,” 

“That’s adorable,” 

“What’s adorable,” 

“You, you spent money on a ride just to come see me,” I pointed out, voice cracking halfway through the sentence as tears started to well in my eyes. 

 “Wait don’t cry, I’m sorry, did I do something? If I did sorry for whatever it was-” 

“No you didn’t do anything, it’s just me,” I moved a hand off the counter I was holding onto for balance before wiping my face. I don’t cry, at least not willingly and definitely not in front of anyone else.

“Well I was going to…” He fiddled with his hands before continuing “I was going to ask if you needed a ride because I didn’t know if you drove here or not and you’re clearly drunk-“

“I’m not drunk!” I said. “I don’t drink how could I be drunk,” 

“Okay, but like I was saying do you need a ride?” 

I was going to say I didn’t want to leave yet but it’s not like I was doing anything but being pathetic and hanging out in the bathroom. 

“Fine, yeah” 

Peter opened his mouth like he was about to say something but a knock on the door interrupted. I immediately opened the door and grabbed Peter’s wrist running, for no reason except I felt like it. I bumped into a couple doorways 

By the time we’d made it out by the pool Peter was hunched over trying to catch his breath. 

I started running toward the water and I could hear a faint 

“Y/N don't!” As I was running but it was too late seeing as I was already in the water. I laughed as I broke the surface as I floated on my back. 

Peter came over to the edge of the water and squatted down. 

“Y/N” 

“And nothing hurts anymore I feel kinda free!” I sang splashing around in the pool. 

“Y/N” 

“We're still the kids we used to be,” 

“Y/N!” Peter yelled, snapping my attention back to him. 

“Hmm?” I asked. 

“You need to get out the pool,” 

“I don’t wanna,” I whined. 

“Yeah I know but don’t you wanna go home?” He asked. 

The last place I’d ever want to go is “home” 

“No, get in the pool,” 

“Y/N,” He said sternly. 

“Pleaseee,” 

“Get out the pool it’s cold you’re gonna get sick,”

“Fine…” I made my way begrudgingly to the steps of the pool. 

Peter gave me the hoodie he was wearing so I was able to take my skirt and socks off. I put the knife I had in the hoodie pocket. 

The last thing I remember is getting in some car. 

Oh shit 

I woke up in a room that I did not recognize. I swear to God if I got kidnapped again. I sat up quickly and hit my head on something. It was dark but there was a nightlight. Thank God if we’re being honest I’m scared of the dark. Long story I don’t wanna get into it.

I was definitely hungover, headache prominent. It only worsened when I stepped out the room and the light from the TV hit my eyes. I glanced over to Peter laying on the couch. 

Oh yeah I forgot about that. 

“Hey…” I whispered. He shifted a bit “You awake?” 

He sat up and looked at me rubbing his eyes before bombarding me with questions. 

“Did you- Are you okay? Does your head hurt? Do you need painkillers? Sorry that I brought you here and didn’t ask. That's really creepy but you were asleep and I didn’t want to wake you because you seemed tired. Again sorry it’s just I didn’t really even know where you lived and I was-“

“Oh my God, shut up!” I interrupted. 

He looked stunned, blinking a few times. 

“Sorry,” I held my hand to my forehead in exasperation. “Sorry, it’s just you- you were making my head hurt.” 

“Oh I’m sorry,”

“No, I promise it’s not you, if it’s okay with you can I go back to sleep? I don’t really feel like going home right now,” 

“Yes of course you can!” He sat up and pushed the blanket off of him before standing. “Wait I’ll be right back,” He said. I nodded before hesitantly sitting down on the couch. 

He came back rather quickly with a glass of water and some painkillers. I mumbled a quick thank you before taking them. 

I yawned, surprised that I was able to actually feel tired. Normally it took at least a few hours before I could sleep if I even got the chance. 

“You can take the bed,” Peter informed. 

“I just wanna stay right here,” I said lazily. 

He tried to scoot over but I already had my arms wrapped around him so I squeezed him tighter. I looked up and his face was tinted red, smiling before I drifted off. 

I felt light hit my face and I heard the squeak of a door. I sat up and slowly unwrapped my arms from around Peter. Walking over towards May. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know if it was okay for me to stay here I should’ve called and asked,”

“No, no it’s perfectly fine,” 

“Okay…”

“He talks about you all the time you know,”

I smiled at her and she smiled back.

“Thanks for not killing me for being in your house,” I joked. “But I should probably get home anyway,” 

I didn’t go home. Mostly because I don’t have an actual home. I didn’t go to any of the almost 13 places I’ve stayed at, at some point either. I went to some shitty hotel. I had enough money to stay for about a week. Which was great I could stay for all of homecoming week then I’d have to find somewhere else to stay before I got more money at least. 

The last step for this day was go to Olivia’s house and get my stuff back. I made my way into the house through the back door, and sure enough she was sitting on the couch like parents in movies when they catch you sneaking out.

She eyed the bag in my hand.

“So you’re leaving?”

“I-“ I didn’t get the chance to speak.

“And you weren’t going to tell me, oh okay,” 

“Olivia…” 

“Where are you gonna stay?”

“I’m going back to my grandma's house,” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, again I’m sorry that I tried to leave without telling you I just-“

“Didn’t want to be interrogated?” 

“Yeah…”

”It’s okay, I get it, come give me a hug,”

I moved giving her a hug and she mumbled 

“You smell like booze,” 

As soon as I got back to the hotel I turned on the movie Frozen. Which I knew was a bad idea because the movie always made me cry. 

I ended up crying myself to sleep and by the time I woke up I was late for school. I slept for 18 hours straight.  

If I was going to be late might as well have had a reason. So, I got smoothies. 

“I love smoothies a lot, but banana is so so strong. Which like makes it pointless to put anything else in it. People should stop saying strawberry and banana smoothie because in reality it’s a BANANA and strawberry smoothie,” I took another sip of my smoothie.

“Damn bitch, you’re saying a lot and fast what’d they put in that smoothie,” Bri said examining the cup before turning to me again “And can I have some?” I laughed before lighty shoving her shoulder. 

“Noo! Continue talking you were my reference for my excitement portrait,” MJ said flipping her sketchbook towards me “I’ve missed my one and only chance to see you happy,” 

“Now I know you’re not talking, I don’t think anyone has seen you smile ever,”

I slid down the bench of the lunch table 

“Whatcha watching Phineas?” I asked Peter. He quickly swiped out the app. “Was it porn?”

“No! Wha- What?” 

I patted his shoulder “Relax dude, I was just messing with you,” 

That was the last I’d spoken to any of my friends. In all actuality that was the last time I’d spoken to anyone besides the hotel staff. I hadn’t been to school since...what’s today? Wednesday. Well then I hadn’t been to school since 3 days ago. Which also means I haven’t eaten since a week ago? 

Okay I know how bad that sounds but it’s not like I’ve been eating nothing. I just haven’t been hungry lately, I have had snacks though like goldfish and chips. I’ve just been too lazy to cook and don’t have the funds to cook. I’ve also been too lazy to fake a smile or whatever so I just haven’t been going to school. 

However what I have been and haven’t been eating is the issue of concern here. It’s that alien shit from the Avengers a few years ago is so much deeper than anyone could have ever thought. I’d been in research mode for a while now. I call it the zone, anything you say to me will go unheard, I mean business when I’m in the zone. If I want something to happen it will. 

“Okay so, I’ll start with the government flash drive. So the aliens that attacked a while back in 2012 were called Chitauri. So Loki had control of them and was using them as an army. Loki being Thor’s brother and the God of mischief,” I clarified. 

''And Loki was attacking because he wanted to be king but his brother was king instead. I mean I think, I don’t really get that part. So there was this thing called the tesseract and it’s supposedly like super powerful. This branch of government called Shield doesn’t want Loki to have this so they keep, then the invasion ensues. This tesseract however is some space stone and Loki used it to bring in the aliens. It’s some sort of infinity stone whatever that means. Howard Stark found the stone in the ocean, because a Stark is always gonna be the one to fuck the world up when they think they’re helping. Then he and someone else founded Project Pegasus-” 

“What’s project Pegasus?”

“I don’t really know but I know it stands for potential energy group alternate sources,”

“Oh, so it’s Shield that’s over this… Tesseract?”

“Exactly!” I clapped and the papers with all the information I printed from the flash drive rustled underneath me. 

“What are you going on about?” Carmen asked. “Like what’s the bigger picture?” 

“That’s the thing! I don’t know, this is like so covered up and coded that I can’t figure it out with information that I have,” I turned towards her “But I will, and that’s where your help comes in,”

“Y/N, when’s the last time you slept?” She tilted her head like those dogs in Minecraft when you have food. 

“Last night,” I waved her off. 

I looked down at the information I was able to find out about Kingpin since he was mentioned in the video my mom made for me. Apparently she worked for him for a while. So did Felicia but all she’d ever tell me was “He was an ass he did give me a gift I’m grateful for though,”. He had affiliations with everyone. 

From what Black Widow released out unto the world he had connections with a Neo Nazi group called HYDRA which brainwashed people from what’ve heard. 

Before I’d just wanted to take down the Vulture out of pettiness if we’re being honest, but now. Oh now? I knew I’d have to. 

Another paper I’d printed from Kingpin’s affiliations caught my eye. 

“Hey Carmen,”

“Hm?”

“Ever been to Vegas?” 

Taglist:

@tomdiddlyumptious

[nrth-wind-a]

SO. I... don’t have an excuse; I was exploring the rough patch of the Fashion AU at the time of doing this meme and uh. The ending of this spawned. I consider everything up until the kiss ‘canon’ for the AU. The kiss is... purely because this meme was still on the brain lol

Accompanying Playlist --

"...congratu-fucking-lations." Bellroc's voice was low, as they glared at the sketch they'd been working on.

Some of the lines had nearly pushed through the paper. 

Skrael glanced over to them, the smile previously on his face sliding off. He knew this was going to happen. He knew it.

So why did it still hit so hard?

 "...excuse me?" He fought to keep his voice steady. 

Bellroc's grip on their pencil tightened when Nari slipped from the room. 

Skrael followed their eyes, getting distracted for just a moment, stomach sinking when he noticed Nari's absence. She'd been doing that lately, whenever they seemed like they were about to have it out once more. 

Skrael turned back to face Bellroc-- there was little he could do to stop Nari, and he’d never subject her to even more of this than she’d already had to handle-- raising his chin in defiance. "Why aren't you happy for me? I just broke one of the best deals any one of us has ever gotten. I mean, maybe I’m wrong, but this is our dream, isn't it? To get into the big leagues? This is our chance to do that, Bells." 

Bellroc's eyes were a viper's. "Okay.” They set their pencil down, but did not stand up. “First of all, Starr Occult is barely above Hot Topic, and you know it. That’s hardly big leagues-- it’s not even a high-end department store. So what-the-fuck-ever; big fucking deal, Skrael. They growled. “And secondly, it’s not even a deal for all three of us. I thought we were supposed to do this together.”

Skrael scoffed. “And we will. But we have to have some kind of in, first, and if this has to be it, then, I don’t see why not. Besides, they didn’t say I couldn’t get help from you two.”

“But they didn’t say you could, either, did they?” Bellroc stared into his eyes, lip curling. “In fact, I wouldn’t be shocked to hear that you didn’t even think to ask, did you?”

Skrael went silent. 

It wasn’t that he’d intended not to ask… it had just happened so quickly…

“I-” Skrael huffed. “I didn’t need to. They know we’re a package deal; we’ve never hid that.”

“And yet, I am quite certain mine and Nari’s names are not on the contract, Skrael.”

“That… that doesn’t have to mean--”

“Yes it does, Skrael! We can help you all day, but Nari and I don’t get to see a single ounce of credit for our work if we do! Not to mention the royalties, and god, I don’t even care about that, but you know we would get nothing!” They noticed him open his mouth, but held up their hand to stop him. “Don’t you dare. I’m sure you’d share it with the rest of us, because every dime any of us makes goes to keeping this car crash going-- I am plenty aware. It isn’t about the money, Skrael-- hell, it isn’t even about the deal. I need you to listen to me; the problem is that you did this without us.” They couldn’t quite clear all of the pain in their voice, and they wanted to scream, yell, be loud, because he wasn’t supposed to know they were hurt; he was supposed to know they were angry. 

But they could barely even feel a hint of the flame. Instead, they felt the way the Titanic must have. 

“You did it without us, even though a decision this big should be something we all talk about first. What ever happened to talking, Skrael?”

Skrael had clenched his jaw, his fists, against the avalanche on his tongue. “I just wanted to advance our careers, Bells… it’s one deal. It’s not even that big. Nine pieces, total. Three pants, three skirts, three shirts. Straightforward. It should have been easy.” 

Bellroc gave a haughty laugh, “Easy. As if anything is easy these days. Things haven’t been easy for us in weeks, and you know it.” They paused there, to see if he’d say something. They almost wanted him to. They wanted him to fuel their rage; they wanted him to retort, and they wanted to rebut it, and they wanted so badly for him to strike that match, grate against them, push back, cry out.

But Skrael didn’t say a word. 

They almost got what they wanted, though, as his cold stare locked onto their heated one, and ah, it wasn’t nearly enough, and that, too, irritated them-- how could he just stand there like that? While they were twisting, curling, crackling-- so they took the opportunity he presented them anyway, even if it wasn’t the one they’d silently begged him for, and continued.

“Did you really think that this was okay, Skrael?” They glared.

Skrael’s shoulders went visibly tenser, and-- a vicious delight ran through them, seeing that-- he finally broke. “I’m sorry; did I think giving us a leg up in our careers-- our dreams, Bellroc-- was okay? How fucking dare you. Of course I thought giving us an in to the professional world was acceptable! Since when did I have to clear everything with you? I didn’t know we were a hivemind, Bellroc; I didn’t know I had to go and get a permission slip to do my job.” 

Bellroc bristled, and finally stood up. One, two, three long strides, and then they were crowding Skrael’s personal space, “Your job is not to do ours for us-”

“-then maybe you should make more contacts in the industry! At least I’ve gotten a deal at all!” Skrael spat, resisting the urge to step backward.

“Oh, yes, I see; because it’s my fault a second-rate retailer with shitty fabric and bad stitching hasn’t picked me out for mass consumption to idiot teenagers who don’t know the difference between cotton and polyester. Wow, I feel so bad, Skrael; really! I’m just aching for Wal-Mart to set their sights on me! You piece of shit. You got lucky that they’re still looking for clothes that thirteen year olds wear to pretend they’re being rebellious. As if a paper-thin graphic tee makes you Alexander fucking McQueen, Skrael! This deal is stupid, and you know it. What happened to not selling out? To a mass retailer, Skrael? A chain?”

Skrael couldn’t resist a humorless, shocked laugh, “Are you kidding me? You’re really going to act like you’re gonna suddenly get asked to collab with Westwood on your first fucking try? We have to start somewhere, Bellroc!”

“I know that, Skrael! I just thought that maybe-” they cut themself off, looking to the side, shutting their eyes. They took a steadying breath… then leveled him with a mercilessly disappointed glare. “Well. You know what I thought.” 

The air stilled for half a second. 

And then Skrael rolled his eyes. 

“I never said we aren’t going to do this together, Bellroc. You are wildly overexaggerating.”

Ah… there was the strike. 

They accepted it in stride, lighting up. “Oh…” They growled. “Fuck you, Skrael. If that’s how you want to do this, fine. I’m just delighted to oblige! Fuck you and your stupid fucking deal-- I hope you have so much fun with your brand new, shiny contract, and all the assholes who come with it. And you know what? Don’t even bother asking for my help. This is your deal, remember? So take it, cherish it, and then shove it up your ass.” They slung their words at him like blows, before whirling to collect their coat and their backpack, stopping just before the door to hiss, “Don’t fucking show your face here tomorrow.”

The door was on its way to being slammed, but Skrael managed to catch it, as he followed on Bellroc’s heels, out into the rain. “You cannot tell me not to come in-- you don’t have that right! You don’t have the authority.”

Bellroc spun on their heels to face him. “Like hell I do! I’m not telling you that as a business partner, Skrael; I’m telling you that as a--” don’t say friend, “...a co-worker. If you show your goddamn face tomorrow, Skrael, I will make you regret it.”

Skrael looked unbothered, “What are you gonna do, get in a fistfight with me? Duel me at sundown? Please. Avoid the empty threats, Bellroc; they’re not a good look on you.” 

Bellroc made a hateful noise. “Do you want me to? Because if you keep fucking pushing me, I just might.” With how wired they felt, they almost, almost, wanted to… but Skrael was-- unfortunately-- right. Their words were empty.

Still… when Skrael had the audacity to start laughing, it was much easier to see the appeal. 

“You would never.” He managed between laughs, and god, they just wanted him to shut up; between his laughter, the rain, the blood rushing in their ears, the bonfire in their chest--

Something had to give.

As if they were watching from outside of their own body, they reached up, clapped their hands onto the sides of Skrael’s face, and he looked so stupidly beautiful in the rain, in the street lights, and they weren’t even sure what they were doing, but they were leaning in, suddenly, and it felt like a fever, it felt fake, it felt--

It wasn’t a nice kiss. 

They were too angry for that.

Instead, it was vicious, and too hard, and mean, and Skrael wasn’t moving, except-- was that bite from them or him? They couldn’t even tell. So they stepped closer, making him crane his neck, and he should have pulled away then, but he didn’t, so they didn’t, and neither of them understood what was happening, and--

The kiss wasn’t supposed to be good. 

It wasn’t supposed to light yet more of their insides ablaze. 

But it did. 

And they hated it. 

And they loved it. 

Eventually, they pulled back, slow, full of hesitation and something that wasn’t regret, but felt like it.

Bellroc cut Skrael off before he could ask.

“Shut. Up.” They said, tone dangerous, before they let him go and stormed to their car. 

The apartment was a graveyard that night.

[crowsvalentine]

Six of crows Modern au: Car/Mechanic Edition 

(These are just random headcanons there’s no real story here just ideas I needed to share)

The car obsession starts the summer Kaz and Jesper are thirteen and Mr. Fahey finally lets them work on that old broken down ford mustang that had been rotting away in the garage since before the Fahey’s even owned the farm

By some miracle, and some car knowledge Jesper had no idea Kaz possessed, they some how got that car to turn on the day before school was supposed to start 

Mr. Fahey was so proud he decided to teach the boys how to drive

When they were sixteen they both managed to get jobs at the local  garage by Kaz’s apartment 

It’s mostly just to clean up after the real mechanics but they start helping out more and more throughout their time there and eventually they’re allowed to actually work on the cars that come in

Jesper buys his car first because as a high school graduation gift his dad agreed to pay for half

It’s a beat up old dodge challenger with chipped orange paint but he absolutely loves the thing

Him and Kaz fix it up and give it a clean paint job and it becomes their baby 

Kaz doesn’t buy his own car

Because he has other expenses he needs to take care of so he can never save enough 

On his ninteenth birthday Mr. Fahey gifts him the car they fixed up way back when and Kaz is so grateful 

And if he’s honest he wouldn’t have wanted any other car because what’s better than a mustang?

He paints it black and for the next few years he works on it until it becomes his ideal car 

Throwing some Kanej in here because I’m trash:

Despite the fact that he practically built it, Kaz hates Inej’s car

They were on the way to a dealership to buy her a car because she needed one but on the way there they passed the old car lot filled with rotting parts and just mere skeletons of vehicles  

She yelled at him to stop and he did...and he sighed because with her face pressed up against the wire fence she was grinning at a purple beetle that had overgrown weeds coming out of the headlights 

“You know it won’t end up being Herbie, right?”

“I’ll pay you to fix it” 

He gave in, of course

The owner of the garage let him use it outside of work hours to work on her car 

He paid out of his own pocket for the parts he needed and he just spent so much time and effort into that car

And plus, those late nights were worth it because Inej would always come by with food and they’d sit at the messy old work bench where Inej would later fall asleep at while he continued to work 

Another thing that made it worth it is the fact that Inej really likes watching him work

Because it’s hot

And it sometimes lead to him being pulled away for a few moments to satisfy her before being allowed to get back to work

Okay but back to the car- yeah Kaz hates it

Because the day he was supposed to give it to Inej, after all that suspense, it doesn’t start 

And over and over again after that it just breaks down constantly 

Kaz literally drives a car he fixed up when he was a kid and this car he builds after years of experience doesn’t even work

However, Inej loves it

So much

Because of the fact that Kaz built it and its occasional breakdown always led to him driving over to help her even if she’s in the middle of no where and he was busy he’ll still always come and she gets the chance to see him leaning over the hood of her little car which is a sight she would never give up

When Kaz finally opens his own garage Inej is his first customer and her reward is never having to make an appointment to bring her car in after that

It makes some of his other, real customers mad though when they’ve made an appointment but then this little purple beetle pulls up and takes their spot 

Kaz gets threats about them leaving him to go to another mechanic and he just shrugs

“My girl comes first appointment or not so either wait or good luck finding someone else to take you on such short notice”

There’s one night when Inej was sitting on top of Kaz’s car as he worked underneath it 

And she asked him why he loved it all so much

Cars and all that 

She hears him stop working but he doesn’t roll out from underneath 

“My mom’s family owned a garage, she practically grew up in it. She taught me what she could before,” he paused, and Inej didn’t push him to continue. He never spoke about her, in the years she’d known him she didn’t even know his mom’s name. “I went back to buy the place but they tore it down,” he finally said after a minute

“You have this place now, at least, I’m sure she would have loved it”

“Yeah, she would have.” and that was it before he continued working

Jesper doesn’t know any of this

Because he thinks Kaz’s reasoning is the same as his

Cars are just... so much fun

I’m gonna stop here but just guys Kaz and Jesper being more in love with their cars than like anything else  

[autisticalbert]

the clothies

part two of my the office au! nearly 3k of race being love with a very drunk albert. this is based on 2x01 of the office, ‘the dundies’.

A studious person could say there were four types of managers. Jack Kelly was an exact combination of all of them.

The man wasn’t unlikeable, not in the slightest. In fact, he was almost funny whenever he wasn’t trying too hard. He cared for his employees and co-workers and gave his life for the company he worked in. He was determined to make a family out of the workplace, even if no one felt the same way. No one at all.

It didn’t come as a surprise that the New York branch was one of the youngest-employing ones in the company. Race was about to turn twenty-four and most of his co-workers rounded that number.

All except Les, of course. The kid missed out on all company parties and the blessed opportunity of alcohol. Such a shame.

Every February brought upon the New York branch the most dreaded celebration of all. The Clothies. That was its name. They didn’t even sell real clothes.

The mind of the great Jack Kelly worked wonders. In his first year as a manager, he got around the idea that if his employees got rewarded with worthless pieces of plastic once a year named out to ridiculous categories, then that would be an incentive for everyone and it would turn the New York branch around for magnificent results and numbers to come.

He thought it to be a success. People really just took every chance they got to get drunk.

Race didn’t even like the idea of getting drunk around his co-workers all that much. There were only a few people in there he’d actually call friends—there was Charlie, there was Smalls, there was Jojo… 

“Hey, Racey!”

There was Albert, of course.

An arm was slung around his shoulders and he found himself smiling before even stopping himself. He tilted his head and saw a sea of freckles in a dangerously pale face.

“Hey, Red,” he said. Albert grimaced at the name and let go of him. “Excited about the Clothies?”

“Not really,” they said along with a long sigh. “Can’t possibly imagine what my award’s gonna say.”

For two years in a row, Albert had gotten the same award—World’s Longest Engagement. It wasn’t as funny as Jack thought it was. Race was sure Albert hadn’t even laughed the first time when it had only been six months. Now, it just seemed cruel.

Race nodded and patted their shoulder.

“Wanna watch the marathon with me? Twelve hours of footage,” they said, wobbling their eyebrows. “For free.”

Every year Jack made Albert watch through footage of his own video recorder of the many, many editions of the Clothies through the year. Albert and Race usually made popcorn and tried to guess the year by the number of layers Jack was or wasn’t wearing or how thick his New York accent sounded.

This year, however, Race had something in mind.

“You’ll have to live without me,” he said. Albert put a hand on their chest and gaped. “Gotta sort some things out with the boss.”

Albert shook their head, but stood up and headed to the conference room regardless.

“Traitor. Don’t get fired,” they exclaimed over their shoulder. Race smiled.

The closed door that lead to Jack’s office read a sign that said “all my gates are open 24/7”. Race couldn’t help but think, as he knocked on it, about how many levels of wrong that was.

This time, he was putting together a Rubik’s Cube. Literally. Piece by piece.

“Hey, boss,” Race said, peeking through the door as he opened it. “Got a second?”

With both feet on the desk, Jack perked up to see Race and immediately waved him inside, discarding his little do-it-yourself quickly.

“Anthony,” he smiled. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Still not my name,” Race said as he sat down in a chair in front of Jack’s desk. He looked at his hands for a moment and looked for the easiest possible way to formulate his request without messing it up. With Jack, one really never got a second chance at asking the same thing. The man had a surprisingly small attention span for a branch manager.

“Let me guess—“

“No,” he put a hand up. “See, tonight are the Clothies—yay, again—and I was wondering if you could maybe, I don’t know. Switch things up a little.”

“Yes,” Jack said.

“Because—” Race stopped and frowned. “Yes?”

The man in front of him nodded and shrugged. “I’m an entertainer. I gotta give the people what they want—I’m starting to think my Harlem Shake number is getting a little outdated.”

Race blinked his urge to sigh away. “That’s not—Yes, I mean, I think taking that number out would be good. But I meant something more specific.”

“Oh, sure. I’m always up to suggestions. What’s in your mind?”

“Well, some of the categories. Albert’s, in particular. Maybe you should change their award.”

Jack squinted at him. If it was anyone else, Race would feel busted.

“Why?”

“You know, man,” he sighed, glancing back at Albert’s empty desk through the blinds. “The whole thing with their engagement… It’s getting old.”

The man stopped to think for one moment. Race looked at him, expectant.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“No, Jack, you have to—“

“Woah, look at the time. I have a meeting in exactly—five minutes ago. Thank you for this, it’s been great talking to ya, I really need the room right now. See you tonight!”

And he was up on his feet and brushing Race out the door before any of them could get another word out. Race looked at the closed door before him and sighed thoroughly. He was feeling the trademark defeat and exhaustion that any conversation with his boss made him swim in when, from the room closest to him, Albert’s laugh filled his ears.

He sighed again. Fuck.

If anything could make the day before the awards ceremony worse, it was that by some silent agreement everyone had to stay an hour later than usual. As Race watched the clock strike five, he glanced at Albert with plead.

“I wanna leave.”

“Leave, then,” they said, not looking up from where they were typing out a form on the computer. “And lose your job.”

Race pouted. “You’re no fun today.”

“Not ‘til I get drunk, I’m not. Or drunk enough to miss out on the award, at least.”

That was hard to believe. Albert was never really one to drink in office parties—not that Race knew them all that well outside of office-related life and events. Which wasn’t the point. The point was that picturing Albert drinking their head off just to avoid having a human reaction to Jack’s jokes later in the day was an amusing idea. It would also be entirely justifiable.

Still, Race didn’t quite buy it until later that night, when Albert landed by his side with a tray of empty shot glasses.

His eyes went wide.

“Wow. Hey there.”

He’d been fashionably late, which was a fancy way of excusing himself into missing the first minutes of the ceremony. It didn’t do him any well in the end—he arrived in the middle of a fight between Jack and the audio system.

“Hey,” Albert smiled. “You’re late.”

“You smell like college.”

They shrugged. “I didn’t go to college.”

Race bit his tongue, but Albert just burst out laughing. The night seemed promising enough.

“Where’s—”

Oscar appeared into Race’s field of vision as if summoned. He sat next to Albert and put an arm around their shoulders as another man whom Race only recognized as one of Oscar’s coworkers from the warehouse sat next to him.

“This is Albert,” nodded Oscar before planting a kiss in their cheek. “And that’s Albert’s friend.”

Classy. Race turned to the stranger. “I’m Race,” he extended his hand.

“Snaps,” the man greeted.

“That’s your name?”

“No,” he smiled. “Is Race yours?”

“Ah, touché.”

Race didn’t have to put too much energy into ignoring the couple in front of him because just when the night seemed to never take off, Jack found a way to plug in the right wire and a buzzing sound made everyone cover their ears. As the noise faded away, Jack stepped up on the platform and tapped on the microphone two times before speaking.

It was like a car wreck. Race and Albert had talked about this many times over the years. The Clothies were awful, but they weren’t a thing one could look away from.

“Alright, New York, let’s get this party started!”

On company events, Les was usually Jack’s right-hand-man. Or, right-hand-boy, rather. It was on company parties, when Jack was all by himself, that the delivery of his jokes got more painfully awkward to watch.

As he narrated a story about some clearly invented hot date with an HR representative, Oscar turned to Snaps.

“This is lame. Let’s go to Jacobi’s,” he said.

Snaps nodded. “Yeah, man. I’m out of here.”

“Uh,” Albert looked between them. Race looked at them and saw conflict in their face. Part of him wished they’d stay. Part of him knew they wouldn’t.

Jack seemed to take notice of this interaction, for he stopped his skit to face the table. In the way, he nearly tripped over his foot, nearly knocked someone off with the mic stand, nearly poured his drink over his shoes. Because he was Jack Kelly.

Race sunk in his seat as Snaps stood up beside him and Oscar and Albert mirrored in the seats in front.

“Um, guys, where’re you going?” Jack asked. Oscar and Snaps walked towards the door and Albert glanced at Race before looking at Jack. “Albert, the party’s just getting started.”

They shrugged apologetically. Race felt something burn in his chest.

“Sorry,” they said before running after Oscar.

Jack blinked two times before nodding and resuming his job as an entertainer to a very unamused crowd. Race looked at the door for a moment before turning to the table next to his. Finch and Charlie were immersed in conversation.

“Is that seat taken?” He asked.

Finch smiled at him. “Nah. You’re staying?”

As he stood up to sit back down in his new table, he sighed. “Gotta eat somewhere, right?”

It was one of those nights where time flew by slowly and quickly all at once, and Race wasn’t exactly paying attention. In either fifteen minutes or an hour, Jack managed to tell thirteen jokes, wear two different pairs of fake teeth, and give out exactly one award—Busiest Beaver to Buttons Davenport. She didn’t seem especially flattered when she got up to receive an award that read “Bushiest”.

Race was waving at the waiter for another round and accepting the failure of the already fairly tough night he was facing when the door flung open.

Albert walked in, brushing a hand through their hair. Their entire face was red and their jaw was set, and they ignored the number of inquiring eyes as they made their way to Race’s table. He moved to the side just in time to leave a place for Albert to drop their full weight down.

Jack thankfully didn’t seem to notice their mood, and simply continued with the evening as Albert planted both elbows in the wooden table and stared at a fixed point in it. Finch and Charlie looked at each other and then at Race before slowly standing up and moving to find a new table.

Speaking to an upset Albert was something to be done carefully. Race was a master at the skill, or so he liked to think.

“I thought you’d left?”

Albert looked at him with words behind their eyes, but they dissipated quickly as the tension left their body only enough to let them rest their back against the seat. They shook their head.

“No, Oscar just—I decided to stay.”

“Oh,” Race said.

They reached out for Finch’s abandoned half-empty drink and gulped it down in two movements.

“I’ll get a ride from Jojo.”

“Oh—kay. Okay.”

Albert didn’t move from Race’s side even after the seat in front of them was freed. They just turned to watch Jack’s impressions and ordered a full new round of drinks, successfully ignoring Race’s worried glances. There was a science to drunk Albert—the more they drank, the funnier Jack seemed to them. Which showed how out of it they really were.

In the following hour and a half, Jack made two slightly-out-of-line impressions, gave out the award of Hottest In The Office to Finch, and the award of Tight Ass to Katherine, their HR rep. Neither seemed really excited and their speeches were awkward, but Albert cheered both of them on like there was no tomorrow.

The clock was nearing 11 PM when Jack gave Race one knowing look that made him want to drown in his glass of beer.

“This next award,” the man started. Race anything but hid his face behind his palms. “It goes out to our own little Albert DaSilva. I think we all know what award Al is going to be getting this year.”

Even with Albert not facing his way, Race could tell when the drunken elation in their moves faded and left way for realization. He almost wanted to throw something at Jack to stop it, but he didn’t. Mainly because smacking his boss in the head with bar snacks seemed like a bad decision, no matter how much he had it coming.

They watched in silence.

“It’s the Plant Junkie award—‘Cause their desk always looks like a goddamn botanical garden, ha,” Jack announced. Race’s eyes went wide, and the man winked in his direction.

For a second, Albert scrambled for a reaction inside their brain, but with a little push from Race they stood up and marched enthusiastically to get their award.

Jack stepped aside as Albert stumbled their way up on the platform. From his seat bare meters away Race could see the shine in their eyes and the flush of their cheeks—they wouldn’t remember any of it in the morning. Which only made the following speech more amusing for the sober bystanders.

Albert stood in front of the microphone and shook the award in their hand.

“Wow, um. I have so many people to thank for this award,” they said. Race laughed and shook his head. He wasn’t sure how much of his love was filtering through his eyes as he watched them. “Okay, first off, my plants. Because I couldn't have done it without them.”

People clapped. It was easy. Everyone liked Albert, they were a likable, genuinely nice person. Race cheered along.

“Thank you,” they continued. “Also, um, let's give Jack a round of applause,” they exclaimed. Race perked an eyebrow and Jack looked at them, surprised. “Y’know, for hosting this tonight. It’s a lot harder than it looks. And also because he deals with Les every day.”

Race laughed out loud as people cheered again. Albert was about to step—or fall—out of the platform, but then they faced the microphone again.

“Right. I wanna thank God. God gave me this Clothie,” they said, solemnly looking at the piece of plastic with their name written. “And—I feel God in this Chili’s tonight.”

They mimicked a mic drop and yelled a loud “woo!” in celebration. People cheered again as Jack took their place and they excitedly jumped off of the platform and nearly lost balance. Maybe to make sure they didn’t fall on their head and get a concussion, Race stood up and went to their encounter.

When Albert seemed to extend their arms towards Race for a hug, Race went to catch them and was surprised by a kiss on the lips.

It was short-lived, for Albert fell out of balance moments later and had Jack and Jojo on them immediately. Jack was rambling about killing Albert with his jokes, and Jojo was more worried about checking for a swallowed tongue.

Race blinked and shook himself out of his thoughts immediately. His mouth tasted like alcohol and he grimaced a little at it. He also felt something close to guilt set on his lower stomach. He looked at Albert and sighed before smiling and brushing everyone away to help them stand up.

Albert just laughed and let themself be carried to a stool by the bar.

“It wasn’t that bad,” they said. Race was sitting next to them when he turned and waited for them to continue. “This year, I mean. It was kinda great.”

“Yeah,” Race smiled and shrugged. He intercepted Albert’s reach for a refill of beer and they pouted. “It was actually cool. Jack outdid himself with the impressions, and he called Finch hot—very publically—which was touching. And, we didn’t have to hear him sing his rendition of Tiny Dancer.”

As he spoke, Albert looked at him and nodded with a small smirk. Race looked around, then back at Albert, and they were still staring. He laughed awkwardly.

“What?”

“Nothing,” they said.

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Race said, frowning. “What?”

Albert bit their lip and started laughing with their head thrown back. They balanced forward and hit their head on the counter. Race started laughing as well.

“Oh, my god. You are so drunk.”

As his best friend flipped him off, Race stood to grab Albert by the shoulders with one hand and get their coat with another. He glanced back at where Jack seemed to be setting up a karaoke machine and then made his way towards the door.

“C’mon, let’s get you a cab home.”

[strigital]

I WANNA HEAR ABOUT YOUR V if thats ok

you… you really do?

‘cause if that’s true then hell yes! (tbh i’d yell about my ocs from a top of a mountain if only anyone would listen)

heck, where do i even start? anyways, long ass post ahead!

BACKSTORY!

To makelong ass story somewhat short: Jax was raised by her big bro - Alek - and, for aslong as she could remember, she believed her brother’s explanation of theirlonely existence, which was that their parents were, simply put, a couple ofjerks not suited for a family life. By his words their dad was a borderline psychoborgtoo busy ripping implants out of people, while the mom was a dirtgirl tooaddicted to braindance to care for her kids. And when the young lad justcouldn’t take it anymore, he snatched his little sister out of bed and ran withher into the night so they could both start a new life. Jaxine never doubtedthe story, even if the way they lived always seemed kinda fishy - like they werein hiding - not to mention it was somewhat suspicious that her bro wouldconstantly “go to work” armed to the teeth.

Welp, turnsout that all of this was a lie (what a twist!). In truth, Jaxie’s dad was onehelluva Netrunner who got his bread by getting people into parts of the Netthat they had no legal access to and occasionally stealing a few files fromcorpos here and there to sell them to fixers for some extra eddies. And iftheir dad was all about that software, their mom was the hardware maestro whocould build a computer out of scrap metal like it was Legos. They were quite apower couple and managed to attract more than  a few followers and basically started theirown tiny little gang whose main job was to ruin all the fun for the corps inthe virtual world. And, of course, something had to go wrong eventually. So itdid. They stole info about a shipment of expensive Arasaka tech and sold it toa fixer. But before they could get their hands on that juicy high tech, somerat snitched on them. One of their guys turned up to be a corpo whistleblower whose sole purpose was to sniff out the infamous Netrunner who was stealing theirdata. A whole ass witch hunt began and the dad knew he fucked up big time. Sobig, in fact, he knew for damn sure Arasaka was coming for him and his family.So he put his little daughter into his son’s arms along with some valuable datashards regarding his work, made him promise he’ll keep his sis safe and senthim on his merry way, whilst running with the wife in the opposite direction.

And itworked! Surprisingly. Alek did such an amazing job at concealing theirfootsteps they managed to live pretty happily and untouched by the corpos formany years. The brother became a solo and an edgerunner pretty early and tookon an alias of the ‘Vulture’ - ‘V’ for short. He was so damn good at his job theynever knew poverty. Buuut as they say ‘the faster you run away from yourpast…’ Jax was almost 18 when Arasaka found them. He gunned them all downlike dogs, even though he knew there was no way he’d survive. In the aftermathof the bloodbath, leaning against the wall of their wrecked living room,bleeding and dying, he promised her he was going to be fine, gave her thosemysterious shards, told her to grab his gun and bike and go to Night City, makea simple delivery to his old friend. Jax felt it was a goodbye and that those mercswere no damn drug dealers who came to collect an old debt. But she listened tohim anyway and rode to Night City.

There, this‘friend’ person who turned out to be the last surviving associate of her parents,told her the truth. The entire story and not a single lie. That day she made ither life goal to harass Arasaka at every turn, make their lives miserable, DDoSthe fuck out of their Net, mess up their systems real good! She adopted herbrother’s alias (though this time it most likely stood for ‘Vendetta’ howeversaucy that might sound) and began to follow in her parents’ footsteps, learningall she could about hacking and tech. Eventually, V got good enough at it soshe could jam tracking devices and disable surveillance programming in order toremain ‘inivisible’ to those who’d find her pranks unfunny. Though, apparently,someone’s been looking for her recently… Wonder what’s that all about, huh?

TL;DR!

JaxineBryce is a trash goblin and a bi disaster, who’s a not-so-bad Netrunner and asomewhat-acceptable Techie. She came to NC after her brother’s death to be apain in the Arasaka Corp.’s ass for personal reasons as well as for shits andgiggles.

She’s ofmixed race, though she mostly takes after her Asian mom. Her hazel eyesare long gone and replaced by some cute orange-glowing optics, and herbluish-black hair is always a hot mess that she just can’t be bothered to take careof it (if she could she’d wear a ‘Bad Hair Day’ beanie hat all day every day).Doesn’t really have that much skin wiring and such, prefers to conceal most of her cyberwareand look as natural as possible due to her fear of slipping into cyberpsychosis.

She alwaysloved to blast Johnny Silverhand on full volume in her room, but ever sinceArasaka kinda sorta ruined her life, she really started to like this guy, evengot herself a glowing tattoo of Samurais (not to mention the Samurai jacket,which was a birthday gift from the brother!).

She can’tdo shit in combat (besides firing a gun and only because her bro took her outshooting once), but boy can she fuck up your cyberware if you get too close.For these reasons she desperately relies on Jackie to be the ‘wall’ between herand the enemy, but at the same time she always makes T-Bug’s work a tad biteasier.

Other thanthat, she absolutely loves NiCola, dreams of owning at least a couple of cats, believes coffee and ramen to be the crowning achievments of humanity, is an AI rights supporter and a speed junkie to the bone despite not being the best driver in the book. Can’treally drive cars that well, but boy does she love bikes! And adding her ownlittle touches to her vehicles. Like, that one time she spray-painted Jackie’snew car neon pink and now he won’t leave her alone with his car unsupervised…

Jaxine issomewhat introverted and really clings onto people that she knows. T-Bug alwaysappeared to her like a caring big sister, while doctor Victor became a newfather figure in her life after her brother’s demise. V’s also got the biggestof crushes on Jackie, though she’d rather die in a fire than tell him, mostlybecause she really doesn’t want to ruin their amazing friendship (besides, shewon’t survive a day in NC without Jackie’s help). And even though she jokesaround a lot, she has a tendency to fall in and out of depression. Jackie’s happy attitudealways helped her deal with those kind of anxious feelings and going out forthe night on the town with her best amigo will always be her preferred way todo therapy. Despite all that, Jaxine’s genuinely a ‘good guy’, but definitely nota ‘knight in shining armor’. Sure, she’ll help you out if she happens upon youwhile on a job, but don’t expect her to go on a righteous quest to save theworld. Her only goal in life is avenging her family, letting go of the past andfinding a place to truly call home and nothing else. As soon as there’s nothingof importance holding her in Night City, she’ll hop on her bike and be gonebefore sunrise.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Bad Habits | Fostered Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

I feel like it’s been forever since my last writing update, but I’m back to spill the tea on Rewired’s 23rd chapter, Bad Habits. I feel like I’ve been writing this chapter for a millennium, though I think it’s actually only been around a month? It would’ve been completed sooner had it not been for school, but I’m happy to announce that your girl has been accepted into her top choice university and is officially slacking off from school starting now! (Just kidding but I will definitely be a lot more relaxed... I hope.)

I titled chapter 23 BAD HABITS, and oh is she filled with piping hot TEA.

BAD HABITS is split into four scenes:

Scene A: 

Reeve is chilling in a bathtub, smoking cheap cigarettes and drinking even cheaper margaritas. She feels like a queen, heH.

This is what I call a Classic Reeve Scene. She’s feeling superior, she doesn't think she’s better than you, she knows she is.

Scene B: 

Reeve reminiscing about her being a powerful almighty being the night before (in her eyes). If you remember my last Fostered chapter update for Younger, you would remember I mentioned intoxicated Reeve infiltrated Darren’s motel room at 2AM to make a case for why he should marry her. This is that scene as it goes wrong, lol cuz why would it not go wrong.

 TL;DR: Reeve has lost her bONKERs AND knows that if she can convince Darren (who is sort of NOTTT interested) to do anything with her, she is #Jesus << her words not mine

Scene C: 

We hop back into the fictive present where Reeve has finished her goddess bath, and is politely reminded by Foster that everyone is waiting for her outside and she’s taking forever to finish. Little does he know, she’s not planning to go outside to meet them because she’s going #Rogue, kids.

Foster says none of this, he’s more like: um soo so sorry but we outside haha okay!!

Scene D:

This is just the wrap up of the chapter where Reeve outlines where she feels she’s mentally at (she literally thinks she is a deity), and what she’s going to do. Instead of heading back home to Boston, she decides to hitchhike to New York City and con people for cashhh. Of course. 

This is the start of the end of the book! The plans are as follows (I hope they don’t change lols): Reeve hangs out in NYC for the moneyyy, heads back home, does some witchy shit, and vanishes because she’s powerful like that. 

This chapter was soooo fun to write. I originally didn't have this chapter in the book because I’d skipped so far in the future, Reeve had already gotten home. But, upon realizing this time jump was too large, I tracked back to the motel and wrote this bad boy. I think it’s definitely a chapter with attitude that most people would be turned off by (basically Reeve is cocky as fuhhh) but I dig it. She’s really embracing her inner Bitch, and I dig it.

The chapter title, BAD HABITS, sort of signifies all the things Reeve continues to do wrong but that she’s now accepted, like how someone would accept their bad habit of biting their nails (just me?). Reeve accepts that she is basically a bad habit, and is like: you know, I’m toxic but at least I’m POPPIN. I love her. This chapter makes Reeve feel like she is a magical being that can literally do anything, and shapes her attitude into the next book. 

Excerpts:

This is the opening paragraph of the chapter and basically sets the Mood for what the rest of this tragedy is going to be. Also we stan that bathtub aesthetic:

In the morning, I soak in the tub and sip on a margarita. I’m part demi-god, part tequila and lime. The tiles are dingy with mildew, and cracked along the spines, but their flower decals still make me feel rich. In my mind, they’ve been painted by a Slavic watercolorist, and imported to the US by ferry. Desperate college kids that laugh like Darren taking turns eating rocket pops and sticking them to the ceiling with grout. One of my last Egyptian cigarettes hangs limp, like a broken finger from my lips. Someone’s left a Playboy in the basket under the sink, and I page through it glumly, the naked women boring and unsexy to me. The bathroom’s wallpaper could be mouldy, but I call it vintage.   

The next excerpt I PG-ifyed so its meaning is slightly altered, but it mostly reads the same! Reeve is incredibly flawed when it comes to her views of other women, which you definitely see in this excerpt. She describes a hypothetical of what she believes will happen to Darren as he “grows up” and marries his (now ex) fiancée, Jo. Intoxicated Reeve has an infatuation with Darren, so is incredibly jealous that Jo was even good enough to catch his eye in the first place. Although she has never met Jo, she makes (v/ unfair) judgements about her: 

In New York, I’ll buy him designer cologne. He’ll feel so expensive, he’ll be tempted to sell himself just for the six-figure profit. Darren will grow up and get married to Jo, and have a child he’ll call Cassiopeia because Jo is probably a paranoid astrologer. She’s a trust fund baby, the woman who brings a clutch to a party and doesn’t know where to put it, undersexed, overdressed, going to church every Sunday at eleven in button-down coats that reach her wrists because she’s modest like that, praying grace before supper because she’s too orthodox not to. She’ll drag him to the confessional once a year, maybe twice, and there he’ll tell the priest about the woman on his ceiling, crumbling from the stucco. The woman stuck in his bathtub with a margarita, and an Egyptian cigarette, and a Playboy, and his dripping bottle of cologne. 

This is so subtle but my fave part of this ^^ excerpt is the fact that Reeve describes what will happen to Darren when he grows up as if ain’t grown already. That subtle jab got me SHOOK.

The next bit is some dialogue because I rarely share it and I dig Reeve + Darren’s dynamic here:

“Where are your cigarettes?” I asked, my hair tangled with vomit. I clarified, “You have a lighter. Only smokers carry lighters.”

“It’s for emergencies.”

“Bullshit. The gas is almost out.”

“I already told you. I don’t smoke.”

“I just want a cigarette. It’s not that complicated.”

“You bought a pack from the convenience store.”

“And I want one of yours.” 

(also the fact that only smokers carry lighters might be *fake news* but Reeve is really going for it today isn’t she.)

This is a prime example of my wild descriptions (I can’t just say something... not morbid???):

His lips bloody from where he’d chewed too hard. I drank it like venom, like on my obituary, I wanted it to say I’d been poisoned to death by his blood. I wanted to. He shrunk in on himself, his bones like tiny wired cages, and I propped onto my elbow. I thought, if I just wished long enough, I’d understand why he was crying. I would osmosis myself into him, and vomit the truth. 

cw: this next excerpt is a lil blasphemous and def doesn't reflect my beliefs, but in case it might offend, I’m leaving this warning here! 

Like an eight-year-old, he looked up at me in wonderment, and maybe to him, I was the prophet come to save him. Maybe I wore a gold halo, and a white dress, and I was ready to shove his head under the water and clean him. I really was God to him. The latest incarnation of Mother Mary. 

This is Reeve being wild--she has CLAIMED black magic folks:

I blew smoke in Darren’s face because I wanted to humiliate him. I wanted to bewitch him, and make him admit I wasn’t the performer of black magic, but the magic itself. I wanted to make him regret meeting Jo and repent for even thinking about marrying her. I wanted him to realize I was the only one meant for him. I was the only person that ever mattered.

More Reeve being wild:

I slipped Darren down my throat like he was the antidote to my afflictions, which was untrue, because I was in fact the antidote to his. 

And can you believe it! She keeps going (cw: again for blasphemous content)!

I wasn’t like the Messiah to him—I was the Messiah. I was his shaman, and high priestess, and Aphrodite, and enchantress, and woman all in one. His converter, his lover, his naked Greek statue a masterpiece in the centre of the mattress. I wore a halo and a white gown, and I was his God, yes, his fucking God. 

Then we dip into scene C. This is a bit longer so lol hope its not awful ahaaahha. Foster has *just* knocked on the bathroom door:

“You smell nice,” I tuck a glut of soaking hair behind my ear. He’s ironed his shirt on the pull out board. Its cotton singe-y and sharp, perfect ninety degree angles.

“We’ll be in the car.”

“I have some extra,” I lie. “The tequila, I mean. If you want a drink. A little margarita?”

“I already had breakfast,” he says. He leans back, and pretends not to analyze the contents of the bathroom. “Are you okay, Reeve?” He’s talking about the empty margarita glasses, the burnt out cigarettes, the Playboy, the soaked cologne bottle. 

“I didn’t know margaritas could be so good.”

“Do you want me to call your mom?”

“Why does everyone keep asking that? She’s a drunk.”

He nods, but keeps his place, arms crossed protectively. “Well, we’re in the car.”

As he’s pulling back, I jar the door open farther, and catch him by the wrist. He snaps back like the spring of a slinky. I’m an acid burn to him. My fingerprints individual irons running down the perfect creases of his shirt. I tuck my towel tighter around my chest, and lean against the door, letting it fall back with me. Steam and smoke spiral out into the room, the spirits of previous tenants being let out of their bottles like fucking genies.

“I want you to take care of yourself, Foster,” I say, rubbing my fingers against the wallpaper opposite the cabinet. He nurses his arm like my touch is the equivalent to a lightning bolt. “You’re a good person. There aren’t many good people anymore. That’s precious. You’re fucking precious.” 

This is a line I liked because yaaas she’s accepting her flawsss:

My tequila mouth will stay tequila’d and never get sober. 

And we hit scene D as it opens with:

After the bath water has drained and my hair has air dried, I crawl out of the bathroom window and head west to the freeway. It’s dizzily hot and equally humid, but I feel like I’m on vacation in Cancun, and not climbing uneven Cincinnati pavement. Soon, Izzy will start complaining about how long I’m taking and send Foster back out again, and he’ll miserably knock on the door. When I don’t answer, Darren will join him, then unlock it with his spare room key, and I won’t be there, not under the bed, not in the tub, not spewing from the sink, or caught in the tooth of the chipped up margarita glass. 

And lastly: 

He’ll find the note on the desk. Be back, baby. Darren, I have your money. –R. Two hundred from his wallet, slipped into the elastic of my bra. He’ll cuss, as if Darren cusses, and they’ll leave because they won’t find me. Izzy will call me a motherfucker because I’ve stolen her sunglasses, and I am, and I like them. I’m the millionaire’s mistress, the politician’s prostitute, the substitute teacher who the high school boys fantasize about. I’m the clairvoyant who overcharges middle-aged women to have their palms read. The A-List celebrity starring in cheap R-rated chick flicks, who drinks spiked Shirley Temples and dances to pirated CDs on foreign cruise ships. I brush my teeth with 24-karat gold, and eat cucumber tea sandwiches on verandas in Paris, and watch the Tour de France with my boyfriend-for-hire who gives me orange oil massages, tells me my shoulder blades look like wings, tells me I’m his fucking angel. 

Aaand that’s it for this wild chapter, lol. While bits of it gave me a hard time, I’m rather liking the overall tone/atmosphere, and I’ll definitely miss writing in the motel!

I hope to be back with another update soon!

--Rachel

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 5 (Cont.)

Tsubasa ruminates about her current situation in her Symphogear Brand Safety Capsule of Absolute Dunces.

“aight ive done seen the light lemme at that sweet, sweet taco bell”

Meanwhile, some old ass politicians rumble about Relics.

“im old.”

But they immediately get fucked up in a nasty car accident.

As it turns out, the Americans were waiting to intercept these old crones to steal The Goods.

And holy fuck are they are American. Personally, I feel the writers of Symphogear watched Die Hard and immediately went “these people are fucking animals”. That’s just me, though.

“ooh ouch oh mmm ouchie ouch oooo ouch”

They tear into these people with an almost machine like efficiency.

These people don’t fuck around. There’s a strange surreality around it given that this is honestly pretty accurate to how brutal special operatives can be, but the Japanese accent they have in their English voices is... a bit jarring.

“IM BACK FROM THE MALL, YA’LL”

“oh god she’s back”

“ah, ryoko. as per your lingo, quote, ‘i like your new gucci boots... bitch’ was that good? im not fond at cursing at women unless its a mutual training session”

Genjuro alerts that the Minister of Defense for Japan has just been assassinated.

“shits bad”

Conveniently... Ryoko’s phone was broken. In her defense, it’s 2012. Battery life didn’t have the bragging rights it had now for phone.

“i personally use a razer flip phone. those will never go out of style!”

Ryoko manages to show them the box the Americans were trying to get. Suspiciously...

There’s a bloodstain on it.

So the main struggle right now is that the Bad Guys(tm) want to get their hands on Durandal, which is a completed relic that is hidden away miles underneath the school in the 2nd Division Labs.

This musty, old, shitty sword has immense power. Almost Godlike.

“hey why dont we just use the sword to beat up the bad guys”

The sword was handed from the EU to Japan for Japan to safekeep, and in exchange to forgive some of the loans the EU owed Japan should the EU economy collapse.

How topical.

“i read a lot of beserk and honestly im pretty sure someone beats up the bad guys with that dumb sword”

“listen nerd, we’re not doing that dumb weeb anime shit. we’re taking this sword to a vault to the bottom of parliament.”

“thats right. who needs anime when you’ve got nicholas cage.”

And so, they plotted to deliver this dumb sword tomorrow.

Ryoko logs into Runescape.

Fun fact: Fulcanelli is a reference to this dude, who was a French alchemist whose identity nobody really knows. Alchemy is a concept that will come up during GX that has no relevance whatsoever during these first 2 seasons except in some passerby jargon. This as just a cute thing I wanted to point out.

You know, that’s a pretty sexy sword upon closer examination.

“thats the dark souls of swords”

“ah! a fellow gamer! im glad that you too partake of the souls of darkening. would you like to play a two player match somtime, fellow Gamer?”

“I would genuinely rather eat shit for the rest of my life!”

The scene ends. Alright, where are n-

Oh God we’re back to this bullshit. Okay then.

Miku, reasonably, is upset that her wife is gone for several hours for increasingly sketchy reasons. Much like an estranged wife going to see her “tennis instructor” for “private tennis lessons” in the “safety of their house, which has a tennis court”, Miku is worried that Hibiki is a liar liar, pants on fire.

Nose the size of a wire.

Hibiki, feeling the fear of God, quickly bails this increasingly tense situation.

Miku is suffering, and so am I with this hamfisted writing.

“you didnt even try the cookies i made out of frustration for you. i designed them all after me with increasingly angrier faces”

“im too young for a divorce. fuck, those cookies smelled good”

Hibiki decides to not sweat it anymore, opening a magazine and WHOA WHAT THE FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS I DONT REMEMBER THIS WHEN DID HIBIKI GET HER HANDS ON THIS OH MY GOD

“HELL NO IM MARRIED THE DEVIL CANNOT TEMPT ME”

Hibiki closes it up to reveal the relevant part of this magazine.

This is subtle, but it’s basically a vehicle to explain how things are covered up for Symphogears. Ogawa walks in, talking about how this headline was his doing.

“i wasn’t joking when i said we were literally the NSA”

Hibiki is happy that Tsubasa has been freed from Metaphor Limbo, having escaped the Water Metaphor Dimension back into real life.

“she literally wont stop talking about taco bell and honestly its killing me inside”

“shit ill get her some”

Ogawa does some schpiel about teamwork and asks Hibiki for an idea on what to do with Tsubasas image even though he’s supposed to be the manager and it’s just general prattle.

Everyone gets briefed about the delivery. Ryoko’s soccer mom van sticks out like a sore thumb. Nobody on the Lydian campus asks why there are 5 cars outside the building with men in suits and fucking Hibiki standing there with them why are these children so fucking incurious.

“this feels like the world’s most important weed delivery, but im going to deliver the SHIT out of that weed”

“hibiki please its not weed”

“ALRIGHT FAM LETS DELIVER THE SHIT OUT OF THIS WEED”

Big thick black cars surround Ryoko’s tiny vehicle as they all drive in unison to the drop point.

No fucking around here. The weed must be delivered.

The weed? Secured as shit.

“its not fucking weed it’s a goddamned french sword okay god”

“ROAD’S LOOKIN’ A-OKAY FOR OUR WEEEED DRIIIIIIVE”

PSYCHE, NO IT AINT. ROAD’S CRACKING UP HARD. COMES APART, CAR FUCKING EXPLODES!

“oh my god we seriously arent fucking around here those guys are fucking dead”

“bruh you never delivered weed before? that shit happens all the time”

“anyway grab on to something ‘cause we’re gonna initial d this shit”

“i thought we were delivering WEED not SUSHI”

“WEED... SUSHI... IT’S ALL FUCKING METAPHORS, HIBIKI. AND WE’RE GONNA DELIVER EM!”

“now ORDER UP, MOTHERFUCKER”

Every car is destroyed.

Ryoko flips the car like nobody’s business.

“ryoko! the kansai drift was too strong!”

“your delivery’s late, pal. that’s gonna have to come out of your tip.”

“jokes on you! you already paid the tip beforehand online!”

“oh, we’re going with pizza jokes now? is that what we’re doing? yeah, sure, whatever”

Unfortunately, Chris ordered her pizza with meat, extra crispy.

“FUCK, i cant see anything. now i don’t know if they have the weed- i mean, the sushi- er, the pizza- god i hate all these JOKES”

RYOKO SUMMONS A FUCKING SHIELD OUTTA NOWHERE WHILE HIBIKI’S KNOCKED OUT COLD

“yo hol’ up a moment did this pervert manage to summon a shield”

“are- are you able to fight the noise? are you fucking kidding me? this entire time when literal children were fighting these battles, you literally could have fought back effectively? are we but mere playthings to you? is this really the bullshit im seeing?”

“uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh i can only make shields. piss shields, out of piss”

“that is absolute fucking bullshit”

“but i believe it.”

Hibiki has primed her fists and is about to show how much she’s improved combat wise, which is actually a lot.

Nevermind, she tripped again. Turns out, Symphogears fight in heels constantly, which is absolutely fucking horrifying. Hibiki realizes this, and then

FUCKING BREAKS THE HEELS LIKE NOBODY’S BUSINESS.

AND THEN SHE WRECKS SHOP WITHOUT BREAKING A GODDAMN SWEAT

“oh shit how the fuck did she improve this quickly”

The suitcase where the sword is stored opens up. That means it’s activating.

Immediate fear.

“alright bruce lee you mightve mastered a thousand kicks but you better change your gameplan because im about to realign that pretty little face of yours”

“thank god you kicked me. needed you to get closer so i could kick your ass, after all”

The fucking suitcase, I shit you not, pops open immediately with the sword flipping to the sky like a bad Gmod toy as it suddenly stays floating, perfectly still.

“ive officially lost track on what the hell is happening”

The sword just floats there, as a sword does.

“you know how many fried turkeys i can cut open with that bad boy? that shits mine now.”

Chris goes to get it.

“fuck you! im going to slice HONEYBAKED HAMS with that sword!”

Hibiki intercepts it and takes the sword.

Now Hibiki becomes a proud Stand owner, having acquired the power of The World and stopping time at will.

“oooooh holy shit”

Hibiki, now channeling the power of Durandal, feels the raw strength of a completed relic all through her body.

Real spicy stuff running through her veins.

The power unleashing itself into a raw stream of piss skyrocketing into the stratosphere.

“the pizza has been delivered... all according to plan...”

“...she was right. honeybaked ham was the superior meat to slice...”

Hibiki is channeling a power source so ancient, so powerful, that through using her as a conduit, the sword actually finishes itself into its full, completed form.

Holy shit, Hibiki.

Goddamn. That’s a really sexy sword, actually! Pretty nice...

...oh.

You’re not looking so hot, pal...

“why is it that every opponent of mine can literally asspull all this garbage and im stuck here looking like a bad kamen rider villian getting my ass kicked every time. its not fair.”

Ryoko looks extremely hyped for this event. Maybe a little too much so.

“MAN FUCK THIS NONSENSE IM PUTTING AN END TO THE SUPER SENTAI POWERUP”

“O-OH FUCK- uh, i didnt say that. totally swear. you uh, keep doing that. yeah. aha.”

“SLICED...”

“...HONEYBAKED...”

“oh god. oh god. im sorry. im sorry. im so sorry. oh fuck im so sorry. honeybaked ham is better. fuck turkeys. fuck drumlegs. fuck any sort of fried meat. honeybaked ham is better please im begging you dont vore me or slice me in half IM BEGGING YOU OH GOD”

“...HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM!”

“ham..... mmmmm... honeybaked ham....”

“WHO YELLED ABOUT HAM? god, im hungry now.”

Hibiki wakes up from it all after passing out, expressing a power of magnitudes unheard of, as if it were all a bad dream.

“YEAH THATS RIGHT WE HAD TO DELIVER THE WEED PIZZA AND I WANTED HAM AND- THE SWORD, YEAH! THE SWORD!”

To her disappointment, amongst this wanton destruction, no ham was found. Ryoko clues her in that Hibiki just single handedly completed a relic, and though the entire place is a mess, the mission wasn’t a complete failure. They’ll just have to return the relic back to base, now the entire location is, conveniently, destroyed.

“yeah yeah. the weed made it. the sushi made it. the pizza made it. what didnt we deliver today?”

“...”

“singing really does make you hungry, huh?”

[gutterdreams]

I’m burning every t shirt. Billy or Steve xxx.

THIS WAS REALLY CHALLENGING. I hope this is alright.

When you were small, your favoritething to do was play with Lego and build towers and castles that cameto your mind in a fit of inspired imagination. Your brother, Billy,on the other hand loved only to knock them down with loud yelps andhis version of karate kicks. After an evening bath, you loved beingwrapped up like a burrito in a fuzzy towel while he whipped his offand ran full at the living room wall while screaming and pounding hischest, leaving water throughout the house. You two always handledeverything different. It made for a lot of heated arguments at thedinner table, in the bathroom, and in the Camaro, but ultimately, youhad grown up thick as thieves.

It wasn't very surprising that Billywas exploding with emotions when you and Steve broke up while youkept most of your feelings to yourself. Billy wasn't particularlyfond of Steve Harrington. The whole reason you started talking to thebrunette boy with the pretty eyes was to get under your brother'sskin, but ironically, Steve wound up getting under your skin until itwas all you could do to not jump his bones in the middle of theschool parking lot. Billy backed off of Steve at your request, butonly if you adhered to Billy's demands that you never bring Stevehome, you never engage in PDA in a public space that Billy was alsooccupying, and that Billy was allowed to commit any assault he sawfit against Steve if you came home in tears.

One week ago when Steve asked you tograb a bite with him after school, you had to remind yourself of thelast demand the whole way home. It was a silent car ride after Stevehad called things off. His eyes were searching the side of your facewhile your mind reminded the rest of your body not to allow theproduction of tears.

Steve couldn't read you now, but heimagined you weren't happy with him or about the situation. It wasn'tthat he wasn't having a great time with you, but he still foundhimself thinking of Nancy when you weren't around and he felt like itwasn't fair for either of you to continue being together if he wasn'tone hundred percent committed. You gave him the benefit of the doubtsince it was challenging to tell how much of what he was saying wassincere. He had always been straight with you just as you had beenwith him. There was no weakness in either of your abilities tocommunicate.

“I'm dropping Max off at the arcade.You want to come?” Leaning against your bedroom door, a half eatenapple in hand, Billy interrupted you. His dad had pretty much barkedat him like it was an order.  “What are you doing?” You were onyour knees in the corner of the bedroom you and Max had to share,folding sweaters into a plastic bag.

“This is just Steve's stuff. Hewants it back.” Reasonably, they were his articles of clothing andone library book taken out under his name. “I know you told me tonever bring him over here,  but I'm just going to leave it on thedriveway for him to swing by and get.” Even though it ached harshlyin your chest when you and Steve spoke, you two were still friendlyin class and he had mentioned he could pick his stuff up tonightinstead of you having to bring it to school in front of everyone.

“I can drop it off.” Way too eagerto be innocent, Billy told you. When you looked up, tossing your hairbehind you, you spied the same devious look in his eyes that he worewhen he pushed your face into your cake at your fifth birthday. Itwas the first time his dad ever whisked him away by the collar of hisshirt and berated him.

“No. It's fine. He said he's goingto come get it.” Right now, your main focus was to keep Billy andSteve apart. Ever since you and Steve broke up, Billy had gone rightback to his old ways of harassing Harrington. In fact, he was cruelerthan before due to the fact that he now thought Steve was a biggeridiot for dumping the coolest girl to ever step foot in Hawkins,Indiana. “Stay here. I'll tell dad, I'm taking Max. Just chill.”It took so little to work up your brother. He woke up like a tickingtime bomb and went to bed just as uneasy. Besides, you didn't want tobe around when Steve showed up. 

Groaning as you stood up from yourknees, you took the plastic bag and carried it to the door, callingfor Max as you did.

Billy usually drove around town,looking for short skirts and freshman to make fun of, while waitingfor Max's hour and change at the arcade to come to an end. Youconsidered doing the same or going to a drugstore to comb throughtheir magazine section as it was the beginning of the month, butinstead you decided to just drive home. You told Max that she couldhang out with her friends for two hours instead and gave her afistful of quarters from the bottom of your satchel.

You wished you hadn't though. As youpulled up in front of your house, you recognized the station wagonsitting out front before you saw Steve scratching his head at yourfront door.

“Hey.” He turned as you parkedbehind him, scratching his head with lowered brows. “I thought youwere just going to leave my stuff outside.” As he was coming offyour porch and approaching your car, Steve mentioned.

Out of instinct, your eyes lookedaround the front of your place for the plastic bag that you had leftthere when you took off with Max. Pushing open the car door, you slidout and stared at your front yard.

“Somebody might have taken it.”Hawkins seemed like a relatively safe town, but people were boredthere. Stealing a bag of clothes was probably riveting to some dorkon a bike on your long street. Unlike Steve and most of the kids youwent to school with, you did not live in the suburbs.

“Why does your street reek ofsmoke?” Holding his sides, Steve asked, wrinkling his nose up as hepointed it toward the darkening sky.

You had noticed the odor when youturned onto your street, but the sight of Steve's dad's cardistracted you from it. It was more pungent now as if it was comingfrom your house. Like the tropical bird on your morning cereal box,you followed your nose and led Steve to the backyard. Stunning bothof you, Billy was drinking a beer in front of the fire pit that yourdad had built at Susan's request for roasting marshmallows and hotdogs. With a stretched out wire clothing hanger, Billy was pokinginto the flames. He saw Steve and raised his homemade poker, showingoff one of Steve's cardigans that you used to wear like a lettermanjacket around school. It was mostly black now, charred sleeves thatwere once a gorgeous autumn hue.

“Billy, what the Hell?” At a lossfor words, you managed to ask.

“I'm burning every shirt!” Billydeclared after swallowing a refreshing gulp of beer. He tossed thecan into the fire and attacked Steve with eyes as hot as the flameshe had ignited. “You fucking dump my sister, I burn your shit,how's that feel, pretty boy?” He had the wire hanger lifted again,pointing it right at Steve's nose.

The plastic bag was sitting next toyour brother's feet and you rushed away from Steve to grab it. Therewas still a couple things left in it. Billy dropped the hanger andstepped in front of you, blocking you from coming any closer to thepossessions that were formerly your ex boyfriend's.

“Ah, ah, ah...you said I couldn'tphysically harm him unless you were crying. Lift the ban and get theshit or keep the ban and I burn the shit.”

Someone else might have just throwntheir hands in the air and walked away, but you weren't just anyone.You were Billy's sister and you knew there was no end to just hownuts he could be. Internally, you weighed your options before lookingover your shoulder at Steve who was still pale and dumbfounded at theentire scenario. He couldn't believe that you were actually thinkingabout a solution to what Billy said.

“Just forget about it!” Stevewaved at you and started walking away, muttering to himself about howcrazy the Hargrove kids were. He wasn't sure if there was any hopefor Max.

“Don’t look like that, [Y/N/N]. He deserves it.” Throwing an arm around your shoulder, Billy snickered. He could only make out your profile, but he knew you better than you knew yourself. He could tell you were watching Steve with a longing stare that belonged in a soap opera. “You’re too good for that cocksucker. Pick a shirt, toss it in.” He cocked his head toward the flames, egging you on to join him. 

In a way, it was sweet that he was trying to help mend your heart even if his methods were deranged.