#the tragic backstory wasn’t tragic enough huh it needed to be more tragic

[fulcrum-art-fox]

Oh Mizu . . .

[moonlit-imagines]

Robin and the Stray (Part 2)

Dick Grayson x Kyle!reader

warnings: blood n death ment and urge to puke teehee

a/n:

prompt:

part 1

Joining the Titans wasn’t exactly something you had in mind. The Titans were all kind-hearted heroic-types with these clear cut motives and tragic or powerful backstories that drove them to do good. You were here for two reasons: Dick moved to the other side of the country and you were being “rehabilitated” from your kleptomanic ways while Selina was serving a short sentence.

It felt awkward being in their presence, every glance felt like a glare. They must be thinking how dare y/n stand and fight beside us, theyre nothing but a common criminal, a petty thief, we can’t trust them. Dick had always assured you that they didn’t think less of you, but when anything was misplaced they always seemed to look to you for an answer.

You and Dick had been together for a few years now, and not all of those years were you a cat burglar. Maybe here and there, mostly for kicks or just to prove you still had it in you. Sometimes just to mess with Dick and Bruce. But Dick never stopped trusting you, he found it amusing more than anything and you grew to love each other deeply. Nothing could change that.

You were already sort of a vigilante before you were inducted into the Titans, usually sticking to the lower levels of Gotham and helping women steal their purses back or a kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Stuff like that. Unless, you know, Batman and Robin needed a hand.

As far as the Titans went, you were genuinely happy in San Francisco. It was a nice change of scenery after growing up in dark and gloomy Gotham. Dick felt free without Bruce standing by, doing what he could to make you feel comfortable here. Taking you on dates to new restaurants and going to beaches on your days off became a regular thing, something to make you forget you felt like you didn’t belong.

You had your own room, which was a nice change considering you and Selina typically shared or one of you slept on the couch or somewhere else depending on the night. Although, you spent most of your time in Dick’s room, it was hard to sleep alone most nights, he was like home to you. He’d mindlessly play with your hair and rubbed you back to ease your worried mind. He kept you sane.

But missions were different in so many ways. You had each other’s backs, sure, but you knew well enough that the two of you were more than capable of handling yourselves. Years of fighting against each other and beside each other made the team observer you two in awe, your fluid teamwork was incredible. To you, it was just another day.

“You okay?” Dick asked with your cheeks in his hands, looking down at you with a wet washcloth pressed between your cheek and his hand. “Don’t tell me you’re concussed, I’ll have to stay up all night with you.” You both chuckled weakly.

“I’m fine, just wiped from the past few nights.” You sighed as he wiped grime and blood from your face. You winced when he brushed against just below your eyelid where a bruise was budding. “I really got my ass beat tonight, huh?”

“We all did.” Dick wiped stray hairs from your forehead. “You seemed distracted, though. Thinking of me?”

“Gotham. Just homesick.” You told him and he kissed your forehead and continued you clean your wounds. He was pretty banged up, too, but he could tell you needed some TLC. “I love it here, but you know. I miss all that stuff. I miss Selina. I miss my cats. I miss Commissioner Gordon giving me shit for stealing and then helping him. I miss Bruce giving us lectures about staying focused. I miss Alfred trying to give us ‘The Talk.’” You rambled on while Dick nodded along, and your dull laughter caused another wince as you realized you maybhave a bruised or broken rib. “I miss you sometimes.”

“I’m right here.” He told you.

“Will you always be?” You asked.

“If all goes well.” He pulled out some bandages.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You continued to question.

“It means I don’t know the future and I won’t promise something I might not be able to control.” Dick explained in his smart-ass way. “It’s just the job, y/n. You know I love you.”

“I know you love the job.” You said tilting your head down and eyes up before he picked your chin back up.

“I don’t.” He replied.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Your sigh left his stomach slightly drop and you slid down off the table you were perched on. “I have to get a quick shower in, I’ll be back.” You trotted off the the bathroom to do so and left Dick alone with his thoughts, which you might have sparked something in him at this time. Unbeknownst to the two of you and the rest of the team, your lives were about to b me turned upside down in the worst of ways when Deathstroke entered your lives.

Your head was spinning at the time you heard the news of Garth’s passing. You fell into Dick’s arms and he held you so tightly. You felt as if you might puke and the rest of the team was right with you. Any barrier keeping you and them was broken down, there was no more tension or fear that kept you from getting close, the grief brought you all together.

It was Donna who apologized to you first, letting you know your worries were not that far off and there was a lot of distrust in you, but they moved on from it. It was the load off you needed after this tragedy. And Dick felt guilty he put you in that position, started blaming himself for so many things. You’d thought he’d get distant in all this anguish, but he wouldn’t let you go. He held on tight and began to worry for you more than usual, which worried you greatly. And it sucked because after all that happened with the Titans, you two had no choice but to go home.

“It’s what you wanted, right?” He asked you on the plane ride home, sitting across from each other on Bruce’s private jet.

“Not like this,” you stared out the window, picking at the seams of your jeans, “I just started feeling like I belonged. Now I’m leaving a place that felt like paradise. I really did love it there.”

“We can go other places. I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” Dick leaned forward and grabbed your hand. “I hate this, too. I love you, though. Wherever you go, I’ll go. It’s fine.” You closed your eyes and nodded.

“For now we’re going home.”

And you were home and it was dull and lifeless and you felt all the joy you had slip away as you fell back into old habits. Started to realize you stole because you were bored, you roamed the same streets and rooftops over and over because it was just what you did, you laod around all day and played with the cats but nothing was ever different. Not even when there was some huge debacle with a villain that belonged in Arkham Asylum. Not Two-Face or Riddler or Joker or Mr. Freeze or whoever’s weekly turn it was to enact a failure-destined plan to take over Gotham or kill Batman. It was all the same.

You sat on the same ledges and ate the same Pizza with Dick. You had meals at Wayne Manor with Bruce and Dick, a spot reserved for the late Alfred was an unfortunate change and maybe the only one. Bruce was paying your rent, offering you a bigger place or maybe one for you and Dick to share, but for some reason you couldn’t bring yourself to it. It already felt like you were taking advantage of him.

Don’t get me wrong, you loved Dick with all your heart, but he was off, too. It was obvious he fell back into his old ways. And something about it made it obvious he’d grown too fond of his life as a Titan. The independence and emancipation from Batman, where he called the shots and could do nice things with and for you. Maybe the guilt set in after another year or two or three. Because one day you were fine and the next, it was over. You looked back and realized that that promise you wanted him to make was never going to be fulfilled because he never felt secure himself. But that was his problem now, you would have helped if he’d let you.

It was awkward seeing each other in passing. After all, neither of you gave up your vigilantism. But avoidance was key. It was only a matter of time before he decided Gotham was too small for him now. You heard he’d moved to Detroit, good for him. You hoped he’d moved on and was doing well, you sure weren’t getting there anytime soon.

Then one day a few weeks later, you heard your phone ringing. Blocked Caller. You stared at the screen for a few moments grabbing the phone and holding it for a few more before you pressed the answer button. You put the phone to your ear but said nothing.

“Y/N? Y/N, it’s me. I need your help. I just—I need you.”

taglist: @volturi-stuff // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @brutal-out-here // @jinxll11 // @swanimagines // @captainshazamerica // @greek-mythographer // @cipheress-to-k-pop // @summersimmerus // @glxwingrxse // @azazel-nyx // @simsrecs // @xoxobabydolls // @azazel-nyx // @ravenstrueluv // @evilcr0ne // @sydknee624 // @retvenkos // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck //

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hmm can you do a licorice cookie x reader human au? Idk if this is an au but basically their humans and not cookiesbut maybe reader works at library and Licorice comes often but strictly so that he could see reader? Basically reader being oblivious to licorices obvious crush on them, sorry if this is not specific enough!!

"Hello, where can I find your most sinister--I-I mean most informative books on necromancy?"

As you were all done shelving the books, you turned around to meet the eyes of your customer.

You never knew what to expect when people entered the library, often coming from distant lands with their royal outfits and crazy hairstyles. From knights to bandits to actual werewolves...everyday was a surprise.

This man in particular might as well be the grim reaper, wearing a robe that looked hastily-sewn together and a skull necklace. His licorice-black hair fell over half his face, showing only one golden eye.

Intimidating for sure, but you simply smiled. "I don't know off the top of my head, but I can show you where our horror fantasy section is."

"That'll do." He grinned, not at all sounding as menacing as he did previously.

"I should let you know, though, that we have a policy against bringing large weapons in here." You politely explained, pointing out the bone scythe he was holding and a nearby sign. "We just don't want any books or displays falling over."

"Awh.." Grim Reaper Man pouted. "Guess one of my minions can hang onto it outside. Schwarzwälder!!"

Then he bolted away very suddenly, leaving you standing there alone. But you just waited for him to return, now scythe-less.

"I feel less evil without it.." He sulked a bit, though when he heard you chuckle he tensed up, feeling his chest fluttering.

'What was that? What happened just now..?'

"Even evil knows when to follow the rules. Now lemme show you where-"

"L-Legion."

"I'm sorry?"

"That's my name...n-not that I would tell you my real name anytime soon." He sneered, trying once more to keep his image up.

"Oh, that's a cool name." You chuckled once more as you both walked to the horror section. "I'm [y/n]."

'Th-They think my name is...cool????' Once again, Legion got that funny feeling in his chest.

A feeling that wasn't good nor bad, but simply foreign.

'Are they cursing me?? No, no..they're just being nice. It's their job, stupid.' While distracted by his own confusing thoughts, he didn't realize you both arrived and you were currently searching for a book similar to what he asked for.

Finally you found one and handed it to him. "Well you're in luck. This is only the first volume but.....Legion?"

"H-Huh?! Oh..right. Thanks." He took the book from you, looking at the title. "Ah yes..this shall serve me well. Is there a chance you'll get other volumes?"

"I'll look at our database, but until then you can check back over the next few days in case anyone returns them. I'm here all week so if you need any more help don't be shy."

"Shy? Me? Hah! I would never shy away from an opportunity for more power....o-or rather knowledge of how I can replicate this power, of course..."

God, why was he getting so tongue-tied over nothing?

The moment he turned to leave, he felt his face growing warm as he stared down at the book. Though when he overheard you helping another visitor he glanced over his shoulder, seeing Hero was asking you about some chemistry mumbo jumbo.

He scoffed, but then wondered why he instinctively scoffed.

Was he...catching feelings for someone he just met? Who was only doing their job and may not actually be this kind at home?

Legion knew he shouldn't let his emotions go astray. Not when he's trying to win the Dark Enchantress' favor. She comes before all else...

Or so he convinced himself until now.

After checking out the book, he exited the library with a huff, much to Brute's confusion "What wrong, master?" He handed the scythe back to him."

"N-Nothing."

"...you seem interrrested in-" Bat-Cat began.

"Silence."

No. He wasn't going to let any silly emotions or thoughts about you get in the way of his quest.

All he'll return to the library to do is research and find the books he needed. Nothing more.

............

As it turns out, you were the only reason Legion kept coming back to the library. He found himself wanting to spend more time with you.

If you were on break or not immediately available, he would browse around until Bat-Cat spotted you or used his echolocation to pinpoint your footsteps.

Yeah..that's a little creepy to anyone who knew, but being creepy was the dark sorcerer's specialty!

Despite denying it again and again, his two main minions weren't that dumb. They knew their master had a crush on you and came up with several plans to push him to confess, while still maintaining his villainous image. Perhaps you could be his evil sidekick!

The only problem?

You were oblivious to all their efforts.

It never occurred to you how flustered Legion got when he asked you to help him find something..only for you to jokingly remind him he asked you the same question just yesterday.

Even when Bat-Cat and Brute encouraged him to partake in the "ritual of exchanging phone numbers" and hang out at a nearby café, you just saw it as him wanting to be close friends. Nothing more.

But he, on the other hand, saw you as someone who could fill that gap in his cold and almost-empty heart. Unlike the enchantress he often complained about in his journals, you paid attention to him when nobody else did.

Not to mention...you were actually sweet to him even outside of work, once you got to know him better and learn why he turned to dark magic. Of course he fibbed some of his "tragic backstory" simply because he wasn't ready to tell you the truth.

All the while he fell for you more and more.

Part of him was scared that he's setting himself up for heartbreak. He was already alone enough and didn't know much about love. Heck, he refused to even ask others who were more knowledgeable about this because of his pride.

He wasn't sure if you realized yet...or if you even saw him that way, too.

Until then, though, he'll keep trying.

For once, he wanted this plan to work.

[yelena-bellova]

Safe Haven: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader - Chapter One

Chapter One: The Other Wilson Sister - chapter two

Series Masterlist

Plot: Y/n grew up with Sam and Sarah Wilson in the bayou of Delacroix. During the Blip she stayed with Sarah to help run the family business. With Sam back and trying to save the day, Y/n’s perfect opportunity to confess her long-kept secret to her best friend presents itself.

Warnings: tfatws ep.1 spoilers, language, suicide mention, undertones of racism, lots of Wilson sibling arguments, tragic backstory

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: As I wrote this first chapter out I realized it’s most definitely also a Sam Wilson x platonic fic. Bucky doesn’t come in till next chapter but rest assured, it’s gonna be a wild ride...Also I didn’t know till now how difficult it is to plan out a series in its entirety when the show isn’t completed lol. Hope you enjoy! (I may or may not change the title depending on how I feel about it later today lol)

--------

Delacroix, LA 2024

--------

One of the only things I was certain of in life was that blood didn’t make a family.

I had no official tie to Wilson family, I wasn’t a daughter or some distant cousin sent to live with them. We shared no DNA and they had no reason to love me as much as they did. But throughout my life I had known no kinder people than them and I doubted that would change. As I stood on the family boat helping to unload the catch of the day, I thought of how our corner of the Louisiana bayou felt more like home than any place I’d ever been.

“Hey,” Sarah said from the dock, “Head out of the clouds and down here helping me.” “Sorry,” I shook myself out of my thoughts and hopped off the boat, “Not a bad catch if you ask me.”

Sarah sighed as she bent over a large bucket of fish, “It could’ve been better.” I came to stand in front of her and held my hands out for a bucket, “Take the wins where you can get ‘em, Sar. Lord knows we don’t get enough of them.” Sarah Wilson was the only superhero I’d ever aspire to be like. She was a widow who had raised two kids and run a business all by herself with no family for support. The past five years had been challenging with so many people gone and while I had moved in with her to help however I could, I could take no credit. She was one of the strongest women I’d ever known.

“You had that look on your face again,” she said as we worked.

“What look?”

“That look that lets me know you were thinking real hard about something,” Sarah imitated the expression in question by thinning her eyes slightly and furrowing her brows, “Like this.” I laughed heartily at her impression, “So what was it?” I gazed out at the bayou waters before turning to the boat and finally Sarah, “Family.”

She nudged me with her hip, something we’d done when we were young and an affectionate gesture we’d carried into adulthood. A half hour went by with us and the boys unloading and sorting the fish we’d caught. I was too wrapped up in the task to notice the sound of a vehicle approaching until AJ and Cass announced the arrival. 

“Blue for the snapper, orange for the whitefish.”

“Uncle Sam!”

My head shot up upon hearing his name, as did Sarah’s. I used my hand as a visor against to sun to spot the familiar rusted truck parked a few hundred feet away, with my best friend standing outside it hugging his nephews.

“That’s right, Uncle Sam,” Sarah called, “You’re back early.”

I grinned as I shucked my gloves off and made a beeline for him, slamming my body into his for a tight embrace. It had been a few weeks since I’d seen him, having spent the only weekend he was off away, and I’d naturally been worried sick about him. My best friend and un-biological brother may have been an Avenger for years, but after losing him in the Blip I didn’t think I’d ever stop worrying about him.

“Every time I come home, you act like I’ve been gone for five years,” he joked over my shoulder, resulting in me pulling away and slapping his bicep.

“Not even a little funny,” I pointed a finger in his smug face, he slung an arm around my neck as we walked over to Sarah.

“What’s goin’ on? You got Mom’s sneaky look on your face.” “How you gonna try to read me when you know I’m the one that reads you?” Sam smiled, passing by and greeting a long time customer of ours. “That look is permanently glued to his face, Sar,” I chuckled, “I learned that in grade school.” Sam shook his head at me and laughed before making his way up the dock to the Wilson family boat. “You gotta marvel at it, baby’s being held together by duct tape and prayers.” I leaned into Sarah, “Are you telling him or am I?” She took the initiative, “It just needs to float long enough for me to sell it.” “I thought we were gonna discuss if we were selling it,” Sam replied as he helped unload another bucket of fish. “We did, and then you were off fighting Doctor Space Cape or whatever while we,” Sarah gestured between us, “Were holdin’ it together for five long years. Now that the world is going back to normal, this thing’s gotta go.”

Sam looked to me with a look of displeasure, “Were you in on this?” “Don’t drag me into this,” I waved my hands as if wiping my involvement away, “This is a Wilson sibling discussion.” “Uh-uh,” Sam called me out, wagging his finger, “Don’t do that. Dad said every chance he got that you were one of his own, you’ve got a say in this too. What is it?” I scrunched my face up, dreading the argument that was knocking on our door, “It’s dead weight, Sam. The money we could get for it would be enough to keep us comfortable for a little longer without having to worry.” “We grew up on this thing. It’s not just Mom and Dad’s name on it. This thing is a part of our family.”

I sighed as Sarah stepped forward, “You know the situation we’re in. This is why I prefer not to dwell on it in front of everybody.” “Well what if we don’t need to sell it?” Sam said. “Can we talk about this in private?” I suggested, tiring of having to convince Sam that we were in the right when he hadn’t been around to witness our struggles. A long time friend of ours called out to Sam and he willingly took the distraction, opting out of having the inevitable difficult conversation. Sarah and I trudged back, totes of fish in hand and tried to get through the rest of the work day without worrying if we were approaching our last.

————

During golden hour, when the clock had struck five and we’d started packing it up for the day was the only time to get Sam to actually listen. I knew how much the boat meant to him, it meant something to us all, but he wasn’t living in the reality that Sarah and I were.

“Sam, the boat’s gotta go,” Sarah finally said, breaking the silence we were working in on the vessel. “Wait-“ “No, let me finish,” she said, “Y/n and I are doin’ everything I can to keep this business afloat and every day we’re making $5 and spending $10.” Sam looked between the two of us, “So why won’t you let me help?” 

“Sam, don’t…” I winced, knowing Sarah’s reaction would be strong.

“No, don’t start with that. We made a deal before Daddy died,” Sarah carried a few buckets to the center of the deck, “You’re out there, I do things my way here. Y/n agreed to it too when she went off to school.” “Right, but you tangled the house into this when you took those loans,” Sam finished tying off one of the ropes, turning around and giving Sarah the perfect opportunity to punch his chest, “Forgot how hard you hit.” I sighed as I passed him by to follow Sarah, “Low blow, you deserved it.” 

“Sarah, Y/n, c’mon,” he chased after us, “Look, and don’t hit me again…What if you had money to fix it up? Make it nice so you can charter it when you’re not out working the waters?” “Sam, do you think this was an easy decision for us?” I faced him, leaning against the doorway next to him, “I tried every tactic I learned in business school and got nowhere. Anything I thought up, we needed more money to do. This is our only option.” As he always did with the things he cared about, he fought. “We can take a loan and consolidate everything, it’ll take down your monthly,” he looked confused as he watched Sarah laugh, “What?” “You think I didn’t try the banks? They’re in with all that big business now.” I followed them like the little sister I’d always been as they moved their fight towards the cockpit of the boat. Sam blocked another doorway, “Yeah, but now you have me.”

“Don’t, Sam,” Sarah shook her head, “I just got good with this.”

“All right…”

“Maybe it is time for us to move on,” Sarah sighed. “Either way, just let me help,” Sam offered, “I’ll set the appointment. Look, I won’t let you guys down. We can turn this shit around. Trust me.” I peered over at Sarah, wishing I could see the calculations going on in her brain. It seemed pointless, but any shot at changing our luck was an avenue worth pursuing.

“It can’t hurt to try,” I shrugged.

Sarah finally relented, “To the rescue, huh?”

“Always,” Sam smiled, “Now, let’s get some dinner. I’m hungry.” ————

Sarah was taking AJ and Cass back home while Sam and I took his truck to go pick up food.

“So how was Tunisia?” I asked, sticking my hand out the window and letting it rise and fall with the wind.

“Hot, but the mission went well,” he answered, looking out of the corner of his eyes at me, “And that’s all you need to know.”

I snickered, “C’mon, it’s our thing. I ask you detailed questions about your confidential missions, you tell me you can’t reveal anything, I keep asking…You’ve gotta honor tradition.” “I flew, I fought, I rescued. Boom, mission explained.” “Ugh, you’re impossible, Wilson,” I waved him off, “How was the museum dedication?” The atmosphere changed as the subject of conversation changed from easy to complicated. “It was nice to see Steve’s accomplishments celebrated. Got to see Rhodes which was nice…” “You’re avoiding a red white and blue topic,” I said, trying to coax his true feelings out of their shells, “Seriously, are you really okay with this? Giving up the shield?” Sam inhaled deeply and exhaled, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think it was ever meant to end up in my hands. I did the right thing, it belongs with Steve and the museum is the closest to Steve I can get.” I respected my friend’s choice but I knew there was so much more to his decision and I wished he would just say it. He had an enormous amount of respect for Steve Rogers and what the shield represented, but Steve Rogers never had to face the issues that Sam Wilson did. Steve Rogers could follow a government and be respected in return with no problems whatsoever. Sam Wilson couldn’t, not always. There was an elephant in the room and if neither of us wanted to talk about it, I wouldn’t push it.

“You’d have looked good in that uniform though,” I smiled as we turned into the take out place’s parking lot.

“Damn right,” Sam waggled his eyebrows and unbuckled his seatbelt. Laughter rang out in the truck sending me on waves of nostalgia. The memories that me and him had in this truck still were infamous between us. As proud as I was of the Falcon’s heroics, I was prouder to call Sam Wilson my best friend.

————

Just as he’d promised, Sam made the appointment with the banker. He and Sarah were already on their way as I made the hour long drive in the opposite direction to New Orleans. I’d told them I’d be back in the evening to discuss how it went, but I had my own appointment to keep.

Sam and I had met back when we were just a couple of first graders. I’d always struggled with making friends as a kid, but Sam never had an issue when it came to connecting with others. It was one of his strongest qualities. And so he used his gift on his desk neighbor, the loneliest kid in class, and pulled her out of herself. We were inseparable until college and adulthood forced us apart, but we’d never lost our bond. Even when he was a pararescue, he wrote to me as often as his work allowed him.

All the Wilsons had taken a liking to me after Sam brought me home one day after school to watch cartoons. Darlene had told me I was welcome to come over any time I wanted, an offer Sam and I accepted till I became a permanent fixture in their house. Paul and his wife had frequently tried to get the rest of my family over for a crawfish boil or a barbecue. They’d send me every few weeks with a verbal invitation to my parents and the next day I’d always come back with a polite decline and excuse as to why we couldn’t make it. Mom was busy with spring cleaning, Melanie had a recital, Dad was feeling under the weather…

The only one that had ever been true was about my dad not feeling well. He was never well. But as a child, how do you explain that your father is a ghost around his own home who drinks himself to sleep and wakes up each night screaming from nightmares? There was no polite way to phrase circumstances that dark. Sometimes I felt like my dad had never returned from the military and though there hadn’t been a war at the time of his service, he still came back with his share of trauma. Mom did everything she could to try and help him. She found support groups for veterans, she took him to the best psychiatrists, she created a safe space for him within our home to retreat to. There was no amount of help that could kill my father’s demons and that was proven the night he’d said we were out of milk and he was going to the store. A few hours later, with my sister and I fast asleep upstairs, my worried mother answered the door and was informed by the police that my father had crashed his car and was dead. After speaking to Mom about what his mood had been like before he’d left and if he suffered from any mental illnesses, it was ruled as an undoubtable suicide.

My mother didn’t get much time to mourn after the funeral, she had two children to provide for. She took three jobs just to earn enough to move us from our house in New Orleans to a dingy apartment in Delacroix by the bayou. When the Wilsons heard that Mom needed to scrape enough money in the budget to hire a baby-sitter for me and Melanie, they put a stop to her efforts immediately. The insisted that Mel and I would be happier spending the time my mom was working with them and their kids rather than a stranger. That was how the Wilsons and the Y/l/ns had ended up so tightly knit. While Sarah and Melanie had bonded as the older sisters and were often off doing their own thing, Sam and I caused havoc of our own in classic younger sibling fashion. By the time we were in high school, both parents called the other’s children their own.

When Paul and Darlene passed away, it was incredibly hard on all of us and it was equal when Mom had a fall and the doctors suggested she move into a facility. Sam, Sarah and I had worked hard to get her into one of the best nursing homes in the city and she hadn’t stopped raving about how much she loved it. Pulling into the parking lot was like muscle memory now, I never missed a weekend visit with her. This one was special because Melanie, her husband and brood of children had come too. I grabbed my visitor’s sticker at the front desk and made my way down the familiar hallways. The sound of laughter and cooing echoed out of my mom’s room, bringing a smile to my face.

I knocked on the door and heads turned, my nieces and nephews being the quickest. “Aunt Y/n!” I embraced Sophia and Max tightly, “The twin tornados! I missed you guys,” separating from them was difficult as they clung to me but I made it to Stephan, giving him a kiss on the cheek and doing the same to Mel, “You look hot, mama.” “I certainly don’t feel it,” she remarked as she cradled their newest addition, baby Alexandra, close to her chest, “I spend more hours of the day covered in glitter glue and spit up than you could imagine.” “You wear it all well,” I patted her shoulder before coming to my mother’s bedside and hugging her, “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” she kissed both of my cheeks and looked to the door, “Sarah and Sam couldn’t come?” “No, but they send their love. They had an appointment at the bank,” I set down my purse and pulled up a chair, “We’re trying to get approved for a small business loan.”

Glen took Alexandra from Mel so she could tend to the twins, “I wish we could help out, Y/n. I’ve looked at the budget over and-“ It warmed my heart that my brother-in-law cared so much about a problem that wasn’t his to bear. “Glen,” I held up a hand, “You guys are stretched thin enough. This isn’t me asking for charity, it’s our problem and Sam’s confidant we’ll find a fix.” “How does he have enough time to be a member of the Air Force, an Avenger and save the family business?” Mel asked.

“Well, the Avengers are kind of off doing their own thing right now from what I understand and he’s home for a little while from the Air Force,” I explained, “So his main job at the moment is to get us our funding and annoy the snot out of me while doing it.” After earning some giggles from Sophia and Max at the expression, Glen announced that they were going to go and grab lunch for everybody. My mom took my hand once it was just the two of us and I settled into my seat, “How are you, sweetheart?”

“Hanging in there,” I sighed, running a hand through my hair, “Tired, stressed, I smell like fish most of the time…We need this loan or else we’re going to have to sell the boat. You should’ve seen Sam’s face when Sarah told him…”

“I’m sorry, I know how much that boat means to you kids. I could’ve offered you the moon and stars and it still wouldn’t have been enough to get you off it.” I smiled at the memories of summer nights spent laying on the deck stargazing, dance parties on the stern and early mornings spent with Mr. Wilson teaching us how to fish. A childhood with so much sadness had also contained so many joys. To part with a tangible one killed me more than I’d let on to Sam.

Sensing that the topic was making me emotional, my mother was kind enough to change it. “How are things otherwise? Have you been getting out there?” I dropped my head back dramatically and groaned, “Mom…” “I’m just saying,” she dropped my hand and held up hers in surrender, “You should get out there, meet someone. There’s no shame in trying those online dating services. What’s the one…the…Tinder?” “Oh my gosh, Mom,” I buried my face in my hands and moved my fingers so she could only see my eyes, “Please stop talking.” “You know who I ran into the other day? Jack’s mom, from high school. She lives just down the next hallway, she says that he’s still single. You could get in touch with him.” “Y’know, for a woman who advocated for her daughters to lead such independent lives, you’re sure quick to try and marry us off,” I chuckled, “The second Mel started dating Glen you were practically booking the church.” “And I’m very proud of both my girls for being such strong young women,” she smiled proudly, “But finding love doesn’t mean losing your independence so long as you’re with the right man. I love that you’ve been helping out Sarah these last few years but honey…I see how lonely you are. In those big y/e/c eyes you think I still can’t read after all these years.” The y/e/c eyes in question started to fill with sadness at hearing my pain verbalized. It was true, I was lonely. More so than I would ever let on to anybody. I was a shy enough kid who only withdrew further after Dad passed away, that kind of introversion wasn’t one that you outgrew. But I’d given up the idea of finding someone to spend my life with a long time ago for a bevy of reasons.

“Sometimes it’s better to be alone, Mama,” I nodded as if to force myself to agree with my statement, “No chances of getting hurt…or hurting somebody.” “You couldn’t hurt somebody even if you tried,” my mom argued sweetly, “You couldn’t even kill spiders when you were a kid.” “And now there’s a Spiderman out there so I’m glad I didn’t,” I shot back with a laugh.

“I’m serious, honey,” she took my hand once again, “Don’t let your heart’s wounds keep you from finding someone who could help soothe them.” 

I was convinced my mother was both a poet and a therapist at some point in her life, she gave advice in the most beautifully phrased way. And while I’d loved to have taken her words to heart, tell Mel to fix me up with one of Glen’s friends and put an end to my loneliness, I feared that I was just too broken to give love to someone.

————

I arrived back home late, shedding my boots and bag at the doors. I’d expected to hear a triumphant chorus of Sam shouting ‘WHO DA MAN?’ as he typically would when heroically proving me and Sarah wrong, but there was only silence. When I walked into the kitchen and saw their glum faces, it wasn’t hard to guess the outcome of the meeting. “You’re kidding me…” “Said that things had tightened up,” Sam said, leaning against one side of the island and taking a swig of his beer, “Had the balls to ask me for a picture afterwards.” I groaned and grabbed the beer bottle Sarah had extended to me, “Okay, we’re out of options. It’s time to move forward-“ “Don’t say it…” Sam tiredly warned.

“Someone has to, Sam. We can’t keep searching for solutions when the right one is sitting out on our dock,” I gestured to the window that looked out on the road we took each day to work.

Sarah set her beer down and held her hands up in surrender, “I’m not having this argument again tonight, I’m going to bed. If you’re gonna kill each other, do it quietly.” She left as me and Sam silently stared each other down, waiting for the other to speak. I was too frustrated to play the game, “What’s this really about?” “It’s about the damn boat and that you and Sarah are throwing in the towel too-“ “What,” I elongated the single syllable word, “Is this really about?” Sam set his drink down and rubbed his hands over his head before looking back up at me helplessly, “You guys were on your own for five years and you’ve done an amazing job. But now nothing’s working and I just…I just want to help because I couldn’t for so long.” It all clicked as to why Sam was being so insistent on trying to eliminate the whole matter. He was used to saving the day and finally meeting one that he couldn’t save was a wall he thought he could still find a way to run through. He’d been like that ever since we were kids, always trying to help the people he loved even when it was impossible. He had the biggest heart of anyone I’d ever met.

“I love you,” I set down my bottle and crossed the island to come next to him and wrap my arms around his shoulders, “But this may be one problem that the Falcon can’t swoop in and fix. The Avengers work hard, but a business graduate helping to run a struggling seafood business works harder,” I succeeded in getting him to crack a smile, “Believe me, I’ve run all the numbers and consulted with anyone who would listen. The boat’s gotta go.”

“Yeah, well, humor me and give me a little while longer.”

“Fine, a couple more days,” I grabbed my beer once again and clinked it against his, “But it’s not my fault if Sarah smacks you again.” Sam laughed, slung an arm around my neck and kissed my temple. “You coming up soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll be up in a few minutes,” I answered, watching as he finished his drink before leaving the kitchen and heading upstairs. Once I’d heard his bedroom door open and close, I exited out to the back porch. I took in the late night sounds of the bayou, the crickets chirping and the wind rustling trees had always soothed me. I wished they could touch what I was feeling right now, but the noise didn’t do a thing to drown out my worry. For the business I feared we may lose, for Sam as he ran himself ragged trying to help and for myself and what him and Sarah would think of me once I confessed the secret I’d kept from them for so long.

I held out my hand and watched as the blue energy flowed from my fingertips. Would Sam ever forgive me for not telling him I had powers? They had manifested when I was young, my parents said. I couldn’t remember a day where my body hadn’t produced a magical energy that when harnessed incorrectly could be destructive. It had been a sad day for my mother’s garden when I’d discovered that bit…According to her, she’d wanted to take me to a school for people like me run by a man named Charles Xavier but my father had said no immediately. He’d been so insistent on keeping my powers a secret that my mother said she’d only seen that type of fear in his eyes when he had a war flashback. So I was instructed to never show my powers to anyone under any circumstances and I’d done just that. I’d thought about revealing them in 2012 after the Battle of New York, but my dad’s fear rang in my ears. Three years later when Sam became an Avenger was when I began to feel guilty that I was keeping a secret from him. I’d wanted to join him and find somewhere where I didn’t feel so out of place, but I’d decided against it again. Now with their team so broken and Sam off with the Air Force, I’d finally gathered the courage to confide in him and Sarah. I should have done it six months ago, but I’d chickened out too many times. Tomorrow, I decided. Tomorrow was the day. But would they still see me the same way once I showed them? ————

The next morning, after dressing and running over what I wanted to say three times, I hesitantly headed downstairs to face the music. With there being nobody in the kitchen, I followed the sounds of the television to find Sarah and Sam staring at the screen intently. I stood to the side of the room and watched a suited man give a speech out front of a government building. “We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero. Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.”

My jaw slackened as a man marched out in front of the gathered press, dressed in a variation of Steve Rogers’ patriotic uniform and carrying the iconic shield. The shield that had only weeks ago sat upstairs in Sam’s bedroom in a case. I dragged my gaze away from the screen to look at my best friend, hunched over in his seat with his eyes shut in sorrow. Sarah looked just as distraught, her eyes trained on her brother as well. We waited in silence until the breaking news broadcast switch back to regularly scheduled programming before Sarah switched the box off.

“I thought you said it was going to stay in the museum,” I finally spoke, my voice choked with emotion.

“It was supposed to,” Sam ground out, his grip on his own hands tightening. Without any warning, he rose from his seat and left the room. My instinct was to follow him and try to comfort him, but there was nothing I could say to ease the deep pain he was feeling. I wasn’t even sure I could form words that weren’t doused in raw shock. The two things I was sure of were that a) the government had fucked up royally and b) now was definitely not the time to tell Sam about my powers.

————

It was a few days later and Sam still hadn’t spoken much to Sarah and I about the situation. It was unnatural for Sam to suffer in silence especially around us, but we both gave him the space he needed. 

I was taking laundry to AJ and Cass’ room and had to pass by Sam’s, surprised to see him packing a bag. “Thought you were sticking around.” “Something big came up,” he replied as he set a stack of t-shirts in his duffle bag, “I need to go check it out.” I leaned against his doorway, “Air Force big or Avengers big?” “The second one.” “And you’re going by yourself?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

Sam looked over his shoulder at me finally, “Don’t have anybody to else to call. Besides, I can handle myself.” I hummed in response before setting down the stack of laundry, an idea forming in my head that could solve both of our problems. I folded my hands together and dug my feet into the carpet, “What if you didn’t have to go by yourself?” He looked confused, “What are you talking about?” My folded hands began to make circles in the air as I struggled for the right words, “What if I came with you?” “What, like take your family to work day something?” Sam scoffed, “That’d be fun.” “I’m serious.” “Are you crazy? Of course you can’t come.” “Hear me out,” I looked to his bag and the pair of jeans he had next to fold, “Actually watch.” He folded his arms and waited for my demonstration. I took a deep breath and extended my hand, forcing my energy outwards to levitate the jeans. “Whoa!” Sam exclaimed as he watched me maneuver the clothing inside his duffle, “W-w-what…What was that?” I shrugged and pulled my hand back to my side, “The reason why you should take me.”

“How long have you been able to do that?” “Since I was a kid,” I moved out of the doorway and closed the door, the last thing I needed was AJ and Cass knowing their aunt could move things with her mind, “My parents told me never to tell anybody. I’ve thought about telling you for years since you’re used to this kind of thing but I was scared…Then you were gone and when you came back, life was moving non-stop and I lost my courage. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” Sam stood with his jaw hung for a few seconds before shaking his head back into reality, “Why are you apologizing? You never had to tell me, but I’m glad you did,” he pointed a finger towards me, “But you’re still not going.” “What are you talking about? I’d be an asset to whatever it is you’re fighting! And I love you but c’mon bird boy, you may be able to fly but I can do it without any tech.” “Oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” Sam gestured between the two of us, “You think insulting me is the way to get me to let you come?” “Come on,” I moved to sit on his bed, “Tell me what the problem is and I’ll prove that I can help.” “Alright, alright,” Sam took a stance in front of me, “You wanted to hear the tea on my missions, I’ll spill it. There’s an online group called the Flag Smashers, their MO is to get the world back to the way it was during the last five years. My military contact, Torres, went undercover in Switzerland when they robbed a bank. Knocked him unconscious when he tried to fight back.” I balanced my elbows on my knees and tapped a finger against my lip, “So kind of a Robin Hood deal, right? Stealing things from the rich and giving it to the poor. In this case, the poor being those who never disappeared.” “Exactly, except the guy that knocked Torres out was strong. Too strong. I’m thinking they could be a part of-“ “The big three.” Sam’s neck snapped back, “How do you know about the big three?” I shrugged nonchalantly, “The little you do tell me about your avenging always ties back to either androids, aliens or wizards. Though I think you’re being a little dramatic with the term ‘wizard.’”

“Are you seriously gonna correct the guy who’s actually there doing the fighting?” “Are you seriously gonna deny yourself valuable help against either an alien or an android?”

Sam sighed, I was successfully backing him into a corner. “Can you even fight?”

Extending one hand, I levitated Sam and gently slammed his back into the ceiling before reversing course and lowering him onto the carpet. He moaned as he rolled over to face me, “Could’ve given me a concussion.” “Maybe that would knock some sense into your head,” I stood and gave him my hand to pull him up, “Sam, I know that I don’t have any experience but I am more than capable of defending myself. I want to actually do something with these powers instead of sitting on my ass. I’d rather do it with you than on my own. Please?” I watched the cogs in his mind turn through his eyes, I knew he was only fighting this hard because he wanted to keep me safe. But he was in way over his head if he thought it wasn’t worth taking me with. He accepted my hand and stood to his full height, “Pack a bag, we’re leaving for the air base in an hour.” I smiled and threw my arms around him, “Thank you, you won’t regret this.” “I’d better not,” he warned, his arms stayed straightened in displeasure of my enthusiasm, “If you take some stupid risk and put yourself in jeopardy, I’m putting your ass on a plane home.” Quick footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway until the door opened to reveal Sarah, “What was all that noise? It sounded like you were throwing each other into walls.” “Busy,” I quickly dismissed her, using my energy to shut the door in Sarah’s face from a distance.

“Um,” her muffled voice rang through, “What the hell was that?!”

--------

Taglist: (open)

[krispytidalwavesheep]

Hopes and Dreams II

First of all: HOW AMAZING ARE YOU PEOPLE?! You gave me so much serotonin. All the reblogs with added tags, all the comments and favs and all the new followers, you are amazing. I will add a taglist for future chapters, so if you wanna get tagged, hit me up, and you will be added to that list. Seriously, I love you guys. ***

“Will you be able to walk?” Alcina asked and you just shrugged and motioned for her to lead the way. You walked in companionable silence for a while, which gave her the chance to take a longer look at you. You were pretty tall, even though you were still rather small compared to Alcina. She was pretty sure that you were taller than Heisenberg though, and that made her feel odd. You held yourself with a confidence she wouldn’t have expected after everything that happened in the last few minutes, reminding her again that you were not unfamiliar with the supernatural. It unnerved her to no end, and she found herself wanting to solve the mystery that surrounded you. Where did you come from? Exactly what is it what you were doing here? Would you turn into a threat or into an ally? Alcina wasn’t stupid, far from it. She knew that Mother Miranda’s hold on the Lords was slipping, Heisenberg’s silent plotting was proof enough. Did Mother Miranda know that you were here? Alcina sure didn’t, and the other Lords didn’t mention a stranger roaming the village and the surrounding woods. Although Heisenberg mentioned that an unusual amount of Lycans had disappeared. 

Her eyes roamed your figure again. Your hair was kept in a neat undercut, colored in a hideous blue that still looked good on you. You were clad in a black Hoodie and equally black Cargo pants, as if the cold didn’t bother you at all. It was the middle of the winter and yet you strolled through the cold as if it was springtime. Which made her wonder if you were really just a mere human. Everything she experienced with you implied that you weren’t ordinary and that intrigued Alcina greatly.

“You could just ask me about myself, you know?” you said and smiled up at her knowingly. Alcina flustered and wiped some non-existent lint from her long dress. So, you were aware that she was watching you.

“We usually don’t see strangers in these parts, especially ones who seem to know more than they should. Which raises the question why exactly you are here?”

“Considering that we just met, my lady, it wouldn’t be wise to reveal my whole tragic backstory. And further considering that I don’t know if I’ll see the light of day ever again if I were to enter your castle, forgive me if I won’t trust you with my motives yet. All you need to know for know is, that I am a traveler and have been for my whole life. I search for artifacts, among other things, that my benefactor can sell for good money. He took me in when I was just a child and took great care in training me. He is the closest thing I have to a father figure, although most people think me insane for the trust, I have in him. And as for why I am in Romania, I don’t really know to be honest, or wasn’t when I first got here. It was a gut feeling telling me to come here, and I find that I can trust those feelings, whenever they arise.” You said and stretched.

“I won’t keep you locked in the castle if you don’t give me a reason to mistrust you. There is a reason why no one come to these parts, so I am very wary of strangers. I have daughters to protect after all.” Alcina said, musing about what you said. If you were a traveler looking for artifacts, it would explain why you look at the supernatural as if it was a normal occurrence.

“You will have to see for yourself then, but I can assure you, that I am not here to hurt you or your daughters. My last mission… Didn’t go well and I originally came here recharge a bit, if you know what I mean. Again, forgive me if I am being too careful, but I have more enemies than I have friends, and I really like living.” You said carefully and Alcina kept staring at you. You didn’t seem dangerous to her, how could you, looking like you did, but she was still wary. She felt the sudden urge to protect you from whatever enemies you were talking about, but you were strangers. That realization hurt her more than it should, but with your past lives, it was so different. She always knew who was in front of her, whenever she met you, but this time around was just so complicated.

She felt drawn to you, even with your boyish looks you were still immensely attractive to her, and the way your blood sang to her made you all the more alluring. More than ever before if she was honest. But that is the problem, you were still familiar to her, but not as much as before and it scared her. You still had the potential to destroy her, even if you didn’t know about that.

***

You could practically smell the curiosity rolling of Lady Dimitrescu. She was wary of you and yet there was something in her eyes that you couldn’t quite place, even though it made your heart soar to new heights. She was as much a mystery to you as you were to her, and you felt so drawn to her. Like a moth to the flame. You briefly wondered if it had something to do with her nature. She seemed like a careful person, but considering from what you heard in the village, you totally got that. Which is why her next question caught you quite a bit off-guard: “Do you actually have a place to stay or are you just roaming around the forest, picking fights with Lycans?”

“Are you offering, my lady?” you said, wearing a Cheshire grin and wiggling your eyebrows. The blush that colored the Lady’s cheeks was worth every punishment you could possibly get from that comment. You still valued your life though, so you said: “I don’t mean you any harm. I just enjoy some friendly banter and it has been ages since I felt comfortable enough to do so. To answer your question, no, I don’t really have a place to stay. I’m helping someone with their housework every now and then though, so as a thanks they let me sleep on their couch whenever possible.”

“What kind of housework?”

“Nothing much, some cooking and general repairs.” You shrug and the smile she gave you was positively sinful when she asked, “What else are you able to do with your hands?”

It was your turn to blush and blushing you did; you even felt the tips of your ears go warm and it didn’t help at all that Lady Dimitrescu started chuckling. Still, you weren’t one to miss an opportunity so you said “Well that’s for you to find out, my lady” with a smaller voice you would have liked. How had one woman such a power over you?

“Hmmm, maybe I will, my dear,” she said and winked, making your brain short circuit. You stumbled in your steps and her hand steadying you didn`t help one bit. Sparks shot through your arm when she touched you and you felt something niggling at the back of your mind. No one ever had such an effect on you, no matter how stunningly beautiful they were. Suddenly, shivers ran down your spine, and not the good ones, so you took a protective stand in front of Lady Dimitrescu and said “Careful. Someone is watching.”

And just as you spoke the words, a shadow descended upon you and your instinct started to kick in. Your knife was out in seconds, a voice in your head urging you to protect your Lady. So, when the shadow descended upon you, you had it pinned down, snarling furiously. You felt your fangs elongating and your sense grew ever sharper. Well, seems like the cat was out of the bag now.

“Let go of me!” the girl you had pinned to the ground snarled, but her attempts to flee were futile. 

“Give me one good reason to not kill you on the spot. How long have you been stalking us?” You snarl, feeling your blood start to boil.

“Let go of her, dear. She had no ill intentions.” Lady Dimitrescu said, and against all odds, you calmed. Huh. That had never happened before.

“Is this a new plaything, mother?” the girl asked, and you started snarling again, but a hand at the back of your neck made you freeze.

“Don’t be rude, Daniela. She is our guest, and she needs some medical attention. So be nice.” Lady Dimitrescu said and the girl, Daniela started pouting and muttering something under her breath. You were still on edge, bare containing the snarl that wanted to leave your throat. The hand around your neck tightened in warning and another shiver ran down your spine. One of the good ones.

“So, I was right about you. You are not entirely human.” Lady Dimitrescu purred, and you had the sudden urge to bolt and hide away. You noticed how much she must have hold back until now, the danger rolling of on her in waves was something you never once encountered.

“I told you that something happened to me. If you promise not to harm me, I will tell you what happened. But I can promise you that I am no danger to you or anyone else, if not properly provoked.” You said and dusted of your knees. She let go of you and turned to Daniela, conversing with her in Romanian. Daniela looked at you with sudden intrigue and a nasty smile. She practically screamed trouble, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it.

“Come now, it isn’t far anymore. Daniela will alert the castle of our arrival, to avoid any nasty surprises.” Lady Dimitrescu said and led you away. And sure enough, a few minutes later you reached the castle gate, three figures awaiting you. One you recognized as Daniela, so the other two must be her sisters. One of them looked at you with mild interest, while the other one looked at you with a spark of recognition in her eyes. Had you met before on one of your travels? You were pretty sure that wasn’t the case, but let it slide anyway, since you had bigger problems right now.

“Bela, would you please prepare the sitting room in the west wing? I will need some antiseptic and bandages, warm water would be wonderful too. When you are finished with that, prepare the guest room next to mine. We will talk later.”

The one who seemed to recognize you from somewhere left in a flurry of… bugs? What the fuck? 

“Cassandra, Daniela, please prepare a light super. I will talk to you two later two. Just bring the food into the sitting room when you are finished, yes?” The order was given gently and in another flurry of bugs, you were alone again.

“You can explain yourself when I am cleaning and dressing your wounds. Come now.” She said and led you into the castle. You were still processing the abilities of her daughter, so you followed her silently into the dimly lit entryway. *** Taglist: @imdreamingblo

[citrinesparkles]

cat part two.

jason todd, eventually x gender neutral reader. 1,052 words. notes: part one here! (edit: part three here!) jason's having a really long night, okay. kids and crooks are one thing. cats are another. warnings: food is sort of discussed?

honestly? he felt a little stupid thinking anything was strange at this point, given the whole 'been dead done that' thing, but even he had to admit that running around cradling a jacket full of too-thin cat felt a little odd.

he'd walked the kids home, hearing the whole way about how clever and sweet cat was and how it liked tuna and chicken but do not give it turkey because it will walk away without eating and their mom said that onion was bad for cats, so none of that either.

when they made it to their apartment building, jordan ran upstairs and gathered up the last of their tuna leftovers in a little plastic baggie, bringing it back with another 'thank you' and a joke about finding a different park. then he'd scooped jazz up and disappeared back inside. jason caught something about sesame street reruns- which, if he was being honest, sounded pretty good right about then.

he took off with cat wrapped up neatly, tucked carefully against his chest.

and it meowed the entire way up to the convenience store three streets over.

it didn't seem to want to stop meowing inside the store, either, immediately catching the attention of the worker behind the counter.

"do you guys carry- uh," he adjusted cat carefully, "cat food?"

her eyes were bouncing between him and the bundle of yelling, and he was really starting to feel the absurdity of the whole situation.

"uh-"

she was interrupted by a particularly indignant meow that made him groan and hold the jacket out to look the cat in the eye.

"what do you want, huh?" he asked tiredly. "i'm doing my best here."

it meowed again.

"is... that your cat?" the cashier asked quietly.

"no." another meow. "but it is my problem."

"o-kay," she stood up and made her way around the counter, giving jason plenty of space as she passed him. "what kind of cat food?"

"the kind that will get this thing to stop screaming at me."

"have you tried, y'know, not calling it 'it' and 'thing'?"

"listen- i've had a long night, okay?" he pulled cat back to his chest- met with yet another meow- and tucked it into one arm, dropping the other hand to dig into his pocket. he emptied it, glancing down at the contents briefly before putting it on the counter. "i've got twenty five bucks and a wendy's coupon, a cat that somehow became my responsibility and just will not shut up, and- as i'm sure you'll be able to relate to, considering your customer service job- a desperate need for a nap that is growing by the second. will you, please, get me whatever cat stuff you can sell me and let me worry about what to call it?"

she leaned back around the endcap, raising her hands in mock surrender. "whatever, bat guy."

"bat guy?" he repeated incredulously.

she nodded at his chest, making him rolled his eyes. "the name's red hood."

she stared at him for a moment, squinting at his head. "that's not a-"

"i know! i know it's not a hood! why does everyone feel the need to point that out tonight! it's- it's symbolic!"

she scoffed, disappearing back down the row of merchandise. "symbolic of what, your childhood dreams of becoming a racecar driver?"

"you'll forgive me for not giving you my whole tragic backstory in the middle of a corner store at three in the morning while cat is still screaming?"

he heard rustling, and the sound of tin hitting tin. "did you just call it cat?"

he took a deep, slow breath and squinted up at the ceiling tiles. "are you really back to giving me shit about it?"

"yeah. that's not a name."

"it's not my cat, so i don't care. besides, you're one to talk- shouldn't you have a nametag on or something?"

"i used to. it got buried somewhere." she reappeared, arms full of cans. "you're so good at names, why don't you come up with something? cashier has a nice ring to it."

"very clever."

she nodded smugly with a barely noticeable eyeroll, turning towards the back room. "i do that sometimes. look, wait here, okay?

"i don't really have time-"

"i gotta get my manager, okay. trust me on this. two minutes, tops."

she was gone before he could respond, ducking into a back room with the cat food.

he reluctantly decided to give her sixty seconds before he just left and hoped the tuna from jordan would be good enough.

she came back with an older woman in tow about forty five seconds in, which was more frustrating than relieving.

he just wanted to be home.

"you were serious," the older woman muttered incredulously, staring at him before zeroing in on the bundle in jason's arms- which meowed immediately, as though it felt her gaze. "this isn't your cat?"

"no. it is not my cat. can i just get my-"

"do you have a litter box?"

oh, duh. "no."

she nodded thoughtfully. "how much did you say you have?"

"twenty five. look, not to be rude, but can we hurry this up? i have somewhere to be."

"twenty five," she repeated, leaning over the counter. "alright. run and grab a box and some litter for him, and-" she turned back to him- "are you on foot?"

this was getting ridiculous. "how does that-"

"one of those pool bags, too, the one with the long strap."

it took about five minutes for the two women to pack the bag full of a plastic bin, a box of litter, like twenty cans of food, and three different toys, before passing it- and his money- to him.

"you helped tony up the street last week, didn't you?" the manager grinned at his protests. "call it even."

if the money ended up on the counter anyway, that wasn't any of her business, he figured.

--

"alright, cat," he muttered as he shuffled through the window awkwardly, "we gotta be quiet."

which, obviously, earned a loud meow.

he sighed and slid the window back down with his elbow, balancing cat and the large bag in the other arm.

"so," your sweet, entirely-too-awake, way-too-amused voice called behind him, "your jacket meows now?"

so much for being quiet.

[hamsterboos]

Shining in the Darkness

I've had to rework this plot about 3 times because I started this earlier this year and then restarted it a few weeks ago and then re-restarted it yesterday lmao I hope you guys like it

Word Count: 1699

Read on AO3

Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 13 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Florist/Tattoo shop AU

~~~~~~~~

“Ugh,” Aelin groaned, “look at them pretending to be all high and mighty with their all-black, emo, punk tattoo shop.” She turned away from them in annoyance, instead taking in the bright and beautiful flowers around her.

“I mean, I hope you didn’t expect a tattoo shop to be all sunshine and rainbows,” Elide laughed as she wiped down the counter where bouquets were made.

Aelin sent her a withering glance. “You’re only saying that because you’ve been staring at Mr. Tall-and-Dark ever since they started moving in.”

Elide sent her a sweet smile in response. “As if you haven’t been staring at Mr. Tall-and-Blond? Plus, this is the perfect opportunity to go get that tattoo you’ve been talking about for ages.” Elide gasped and suddenly pointed the rag at her, “You should go by and give them a welcome present! It’ll brighten that dreary place up too!”

Aelin glared at her, “Don’t you have some work to do?”

“Uh-huh, sure, kick your favorite cousin out for having such a brilliant idea.”

Aelin rolled her eyes at her, “Aedion’s going to take offense to that. Technically, you aren’t even my cousin.”

“I don’t care, and Aedion can suck it,” Elide cackled. “Go get them one of the potted plants. Probably a succulent or two, since it doesn’t look like they can keep anything else alive,” she said as she walked into the storeroom to take inventory.

Aelin sighed as she turned back around to watch the two men wipe down the clear glass panels and windows of the store. Her floral shop, Kingsflame Florals, was right across from The Cadre, a tattoo shop that was apparently opening tomorrow, and she was understandably frustrated at how everytime she looked out her own shop’s glass panels, she saw the dark and gloomy exterior of The Cadre. There was enough darkness in her own brain over the last few years after her parents had passed away that she didn’t exactly need to see it constantly as soon as she looked out of her shop, but Aelin also knew that it was strictly her problem and that she really couldn’t take it out on the shop owners.

Elide was right, though. The only decent thing about the entire place was the fact that there was a Mr. Tall-and-Blond, except his hair glinted so brightly under the sunlight that it looked almost like platinum silver. Even from across the street, she could see his muscles rippling under his black shirt as he wiped down the windows, (this man did not care about the burning sunlight, and she had no idea how he could bear it), and Aelin could see the vague swirls of a tattoo down his arm and on the back of his neck. If she was being honest, she wanted to go see the design up close, maybe get some inspiration for what she wanted, but did she really want to deal with all that doom and gloom?

As she chewed on her lip, she decided that maybe her parents were worth facing that - and she would never admit it, but Elide was onto something with giving them succulents -, and so she turned back around and picked up one of their potted succulents that was there especially for the store. Aelin grabbed their water sprayer, gave it a few spritzes, fluffed her open hair, smoothed down her blouse, and walked out the store.

“Hey, neighbor,” she called out as she crossed the road. Aelin was definitely feeling slightly intimidated by how black everything was, but she could deal. She was out of her emo-depressed phase after her parents had died, and a black tattoo shop couldn’t change that.

The dark-haired man wasn't there, but the man with the silver hair turned around, and she was weirdly excited to realize that he had bright green eyes. It was like a surprise of sorts - the man who seems to prefer black had silver hair and green eyes, exactly the opposite of his personality. He was incredibly attractive, though. Gorgeous eyes, pretty hair, sharp jawline, and the tattoo swirling up his neck, almost creeping up his jaw.

“Hello,” he responded, a slight tilt to his words thanks to an accent. Aelin blinked at first, trying to remember how to breathe again because holy crap, the man was suddenly even more attractive, and this was so not fair.

She put on her best, charming smile as she responded, “Welcome to the street. Your shop looked a bit too doom-and-gloom so I decided to bring over some flowers from my shop!”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the plant in her hands. “Doom and gloom?”

“Well, yeah, your entire shop is black, which is quite an achievement honestly. How do you make something so dark when the front part of the shop is entirely glass which lets all this sunlight in?” she joked, but from the way his lips turned down into a scowl, she figured he didn’t exactly share the same sentiments.

“It’s a tattoo shop,” he stated in a manner-of-fact tone, “so yes, it’s a lot of black.”

“Um, right,” she awkwardly responded, her bravado effectively gone, “I just wanted to come by and give you a succulent to keep at the desk. I’m Aelin, by the way, I own Kingsflame Florals.”

He looked down at the plant again before looking back up at her. “I figured you owned the shop, but I’m Rowan. You can come in, if you want, and show me the prime location for that so it doesn’t look all doom-and-gloom.”

“You’re not going to let that go, are you?”

“Not at all,” he responded with a wry smirk on his face. He opened the door to the shop, and she followed him inside, immediately blasted with the cold air from the air conditioner.

She took the chance to look around the shop, and she was taken aback by the variety of designs posted around the walls. There were the simple designs like flowers, birds, dreamcatchers, and butterflies, while there were also insanely intricate designs of swirls and lines that created abstract art and distinct images, and all of it was just pure talent.

"These designs are beautiful," she breathed, setting the succulent down near the computer.

"Thanks," he replied, leaning an arm against the desk. "Interesting?" he asked, and Aelin could tell from his expression that he expected her to say no.

"Yes, actually," she replied with satisfaction as she watched Rowan's eyes widen slightly. "My cousin says that your shop opening up here is a prime opportunity for me to get the tattoo I've been talking about for ages."

"What’s stopping you from becoming our first customer then?" Rowan asked. Aelin shrugged.

"Lack of inspiration, I suppose?"

"Any ideas about what you want it to be?” Aelin shook her head, to which Rowan continued, “A reason behind getting the tattoo might help with the overall design.”

"We're not that close for me to share that part of my life with you."

"Really? I'd say these past five minutes makes us best friends," he spoke, leaning into her, mischief shining in his eyes.

Stifling a snort, Aelin rolled her eyes. “You should already know my tragic backstory then.”

“Same for you, Ms. Flowers,” he responded.

“No, but you see, I never claimed to be your best friend.”

“Ouch, that hurt,” he responded, a hand covering his heart with fake pain. Aelin’s lips quirked upwards at that with the realization that they had been leaning into each other during that entire conversation, and she was flirting with this man. She hadn’t even noticed how dark everything around her was because within that darkness was this man with bright green eyes that reminded her of pine trees from back home and silver hair that glowed like the moon,

“Fair enough,” she laughed lightly. “It’s for my parents. The shop was actually my mom’s idea for something to keep them busy after they retired, but they, uh, died in a car accident a few years ago. They never got to open it, so I did,” she said, looking out the clear panels to her own shop. It was years of hard work and pain, but she’d gotten through it. “I always wanted to get a tattoo, but now it’s more for them.”

She looked back at Rowan and was surprised to see that there wasn’t any pity shining in his eyes. No, it was understanding and compassion. He understood her decision, and it wasn’t something a lot of people were able to relate to. They would simply pass it off as a nice gesture she wanted to do, but it went deeper than that. It was a way to ensure she would never be separated from her parents, and from the way Rowan had let himself smile genuinely in front of her, she knew he understood.

“The tattoo you were staring at earlier,” he started, pointing a finger at his neck, and Aelin flushed realizing that she hadn’t been as subtle as she thought she was, “is about my wife and daughter that had passed away, also in a car accident. I understand your need to connect to them, so how about I draw something for you? You can take a look at it and make any adjustments as needed, but I can help you start off with something.”

Aelin looked at him, and she slowly exhaled a breath because maybe this was exactly what she needed. “Okay. I wanted it on my ribcage, if that works?”

“Yeah, of course, just be aware that you will have to at least take your shirt off,” he teased, and Aelin was so shocked that she barked out a laugh.

“Wow, Rowan, at least buy my dinner first.”

“Happily,” he replied.

Aelin sent him a bright smile, and she knew that she was never going to live it down from Elide that she had gone to the tattoo shop with the intentions of giving the grumpy men a succulent and had instead left with the man’s phone number and a beautiful tattoo design amazingly created with Old Language letters and a Kingsflame flower.

[renaerys]

22. for reds 🤡

This is 100% not what you asked for (yet...👀), but I give you part 1 of what we're calling the Weird King AU. I'm turning this into a proper multi-chapter High School fic because I love you and I'd jump on any bandwagon for you.

xxx

Like most young, conventionally attractive Supervillains, Brick had made a bit of a habit of failing upwards. It was pretty easy in a town full of simpering morons content to project their own narrative assumptions onto him, and who was he to crush their dreams when they made his life a little easier?

For example, dating.

“You can tell me, you know.” His cute date, Tracy, sipped her milkshake across from him.

“Tell you what?”

She softened and reached her hand across the table. “Your tragic backstory. I’ll listen without judgment, I promise.”

Brick tried to think of something tragic, but it all seemed pretty underwhelming as far as Supervillain origin stories went. “You mean like how I was born in a toilet?”

She made an oh shape with her lips. “We all have those days where we feel like we were born in a toilet, Brick.”

He’d dated Tracy for three months before she broke up with him out of the blue in tears: sorry she couldn’t fix his baggage, she just wasn’t strong enough to handle all that tortured darkness, but she wished him nothing but health and happiness. Brick deleted her number from his phone and spent twenty whole minutes staring at the toilet in his bathroom, wondering what the lesson here was.

But everything changed when Mojo got out of prison and moved Brick and his brothers back to Townsville, where he enrolled them in the local high school alongside their former arch nemeses, the Powerpuff Girls.

Suddenly, everything Brick did pre-supposed ill intent. These people remembered him as the pest who had graffitied their local monuments and blown up their cars and endangered their children. They held no love for him, and at best they feared him. This was not Citiesville, where he’d been a tall, cold glass of Voss water in a sea of recycled Dasani.

He found himself thinking about his birthing toilet again as he stepped into the cafeteria alone and the conversation quieted down as his new classmates watched him from the safety of their tables. His next moves here were critical. He was no longer at the top of the food chain, but fear and mystery surrounding his origins and character gave him a certain power over his peers.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of social suicide, I will fear no cringe,” he said to himself.

The jocks were out. Capable though he may be, Brick was not much of a team player unless there was a blood contract involved requiring his participation on pain of satanic torture. The drama kids were also a hard pass, not because he thought drama was lame, but because they had barely noticed him walk in, and Brick did not have the energy to deal with people more self-involved than himself. Some of the unaffiliated tables could be safe, but without a good understanding of the nuanced social dynamics in the high school, he could be heading toward irreversible doom, and that was a risk he was not willing to take.

He saw his salvation just ahead. It was the only option, all else being equal. In an environment where he couldn’t be certain of his baseline status and potential for upward mobility, there was greatness to be had only by association and certainty only in the devil he knew.

Brick helped himself to the empty seat directly across from Blossom Utonium to a chorus of gasps and staring.

Blossom did not startle like her table mates had. She watched him critically behind a head full of bangs as she balanced her soup spoon in her hand. “Really.”

Brick unwrapped the burrito he’d purchased in the lunch line and brandished it before him. “Really.”

He took a bite of the burrito. It was not hot enough. The two girls to Blossom’s left whispered to each other about that bad boy and he’s hot, though.

Blossom daintily spooned soup into her mouth without spilling a single drop as she continued to watch Brick for signs of his imminent dark side transformation.

The guy next to Brick was brave enough to ask him what his next class was. Brick had a mouth full of disappointing burrito, so he passed the guy the printout of his class schedule in lieu of answering.

“Wow, all APs, huh? Hey, we’re in U.S. History together next period, nice. I’m Mike Believe, by the way. Brick Jojo, right?”

Brick didn’t answer him immediately on account of the burrito currently occupying his mouth hole, and Mike took it the wrong way.

“Oh, yeah, we all know who you are. Blossom sort of filled us in.” He winced like he’d inadvertently revealed a terrible secret.

Brick swallowed his food and washed it down with a gulp of water. “Saves me some time.”

Mike looked super relieved. “For sure! Hey, I could lend you my notes if you want to catch up. Gershwin’s giving a quiz on the Progressive Era on Friday, and she’s a hard-ass who definitely won’t care that you just transferred…”

Brick chewed on his lunch as Mike continued to talk at him about classes and other vaguely helpful, albeit uninteresting, information. But Mike seemed normal enough, a little chatty but not in an overeager sort of way. Blossom was no longer clocking his every move and seemed to be absorbed in her friend’s latest swim team cheating scandal, until Brick reached for his water bottle and she suddenly laser-focused on his wandering hand.

Her keen attention to him was honestly flattering, if expected. It was in his nature to be noticed, and in this narrow respect she was no different from anyone else whose head he turned. If she chose to feed her interest with the flames of suspicion, then it was no difference to him.

But if she was anything like him—and on a chemical level she was probably the closest to him that a person could get—he suspected it took tremendous effort to hold her full and sustained attention. The world they inhabited was as vapid and mundane as the humans that surrounded them, and even the most gracious of gods grew bored of worship. Which explained all the smiting and fucking and generational curses upon entire households in everything from Greek mythology to the Old Testament.

Brick was pretty deep into a fantasy of Blossom going full Ixion and the Wheel on the swim team when Mike tapped his shoulder. “You ready to go?”

It took him a moment to realize the bell had rung and he had a class to get to—AP U.S. History with Mike, apparently. Brick gathered his tray and his bag and followed Mike. When he looked back at the table, Blossom was already gone.

xxx

That whole first week was painfully boring. No one bullied him, or pranked him, or picked a fight with him, of course. But no one really approached him, either. His brothers were more determined to make an effort. Boomer announced he was trying out for the soccer team because there was no rule saying a Super with extremely well documented ties to active criminals and the forces of Hell couldn’t kick a ball around a field. Butch had gotten himself invited to a midnight screening of Snakes on a Plane in some rich kid’s home movie theater, but only after that same kid had accidentally spilled milk on Butch and burst into tears in front of a cafeteria full of Juniors and Seniors. Brick declined the invitation Butch extended to him. He had that AP U.S. History exam to study for on Friday, anyway.

He shared all of his classes with Blossom. Even in the classes where her assigned seat was behind his and he couldn’t see her, he could feel her lobotomizing stare at the back of his head whenever she glanced up from her notebook. And while Mike’s notes were perfectly adequate and the friendly gesture counted for more than the content (a gesture Brick would not soon forget), there was a far more efficient way to accomplish his goal of murdering the class averages while also taking the edge off his loner doldrums.

“Can I borrow your class notes?”

Blossom rose from her seat and pulled her hair tie out to re-do her extremely long ponytail. She held the elastic between her teeth as she worked. Her teeth were very straight, he noticed. Some pretty nice girl-teeth, generally speaking.

“Which class?”

“All of them.”

He watched her wind the elastic around her hair with quick, adroit fingers. “That’s a lot of notes.”

“You’re the top of every class. No point in asking anyone else.”

She moved toward the hall. He followed her out. “Why would I help you?”

A legitimate question delivered without venom. Unlike her sister Buttercup, who’d “run into” Brick after school on Monday and told him to watch his back, Blossom didn’t have to do anything but maintain a general proximity to make her superiority complex known. Which was the kind of flex he could fuck with.

“Isn’t helping people sort of your mandate?”

They had arrived at her locker, which she opened with enough force to rattle the hinges. “I help the helpless. Are you helpless, Brick?”

Brick smiled at her baiting. Had she ever actually said his name at a normal volume before? It sounded good even in her baseline bitch timbre. “Critically helpless. I’m the new student who transferred in the middle of the semester, and you’re the only person who knows me.”

A couple other students clearly trying to get to the lockers Brick was blocking hovered just out of reach. They whispered to each other, but neither of them actually worked up the courage to ask Brick to move. He ignored them.

Blossom rummaged in her locker for the binder she would need for the next class. “Make friends.”

“Working on it.”

The locker door slammed and she faced him. There was something confrontational in the way she held herself before him that kicked him in the nuts back in time thirteen years to their more uncouth days when all he wanted to do was destroy her so he’d be the only one. Now they were older and wiser and he actually did need her notes to study, so destroying her was not high on his list of priorities.

“You want to be my friend.”

“We have so much in common.”

“So do lions and hyenas.”

“Both are apex predators, so.”

She took a step closer and peered up at him. Brick did not move, although he wondered what was so interesting about his face. She probably just thought he was hot. She was probably as bored as he was. She probably—

“You have lettuce in your teeth.”

Brick pulled back and covered his mouth on instinct. God fucking damnit.

Blossom was already walking away from him by the time he’d picked the food from his teeth. “I’ll expect my notes back in mint condition before first period tomorrow morning.”

Brick pressed a fist against the lockers and quietly fumed. “Dumbass…”

“Um, sorry, but do you mind…?”

The student who’d been waiting for her locker space to clear up had her palms up as if to assuage a feral stray. Brick pushed off the lockers, but his fist left a dent where he’d unleashed some of his impotent self-pity. He looked back at the girl, and she shook her head.

“It’s fine! It, uh, it happens sometimes.” She pointed a couple lockers down to Blossom’s, which was dinged up worse than the others.

Brick stared at Blossom’s locker, and then back at the girl. Her narrow, dark eyes were wide, but not out of fear. She was waiting for something, and like an idiot it took him a moment to catch up. “You’re trying to make me feel better about fucking up your locker.”

She laughed nervously. “I mean, it’s really fine! You just looked so miserable for a second there, and I just thought…”

Great, he was moping so hard he had an audience.

The five minute warning bell rang, and a flood of students rushed past them on their way to fourth period. Brick stepped aside so the girl could get to her locker.

“Hey, you’re the new guy, right?”

The new guy, yeah. How quaint. Except, she was waiting for a response, which wasn’t the absolute worst thing that had happened to him all week.

“Brick,” he said. But of course, she already knew that, and she was just being nice.

“I’m Kim. Kim Chan.”

“Okay.” He didn’t have anything else to say to her, so he decided to get his shit and get to his next class.

“Welcome back to Townsville, Brick.”

Brick shoved his hands in his pockets and stalked off. It didn’t occur to him until later that Kim was the first and only person who had properly welcomed him back home.

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 2

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Hosting the Guardians of the Galaxy proves to be... interesting. (Read: Difficult) Maybe it'd be easier if Rocket wasn't such an ass...

Part 1 here | Part 3 here

Author’s Note: Dropped hints of Reader's tragic backstory. Feel free to make guesses if you want lol (Also let me know if you like when I write Reader as a mystery. I've done it before and people seemed to like it, but if you feel stories like this are better as an OC, let me know that too) Also I can tell you guys right now this will end up being at least 6 chapters already.

Word Count: 6,217

You awoke to the feeling of your lover's arms wrapped around your waist, and you smile, sleepily snuggling backwards into the touch.

You are about to whisper their name, tell them good morning, but then you remember... it can't possibly be them.

Your eyes snap open.

Who the fuck is in your bed!?

With a startled scream you twist around and kick, realizing only once your assailant is on the floor that it was Mantis, who had also let out a startled cry at being flung off the bed.

"Mantis? What the hell are you doing?!" you cry, hand on your chest as you sit on your knees on the bed looking down at her on the floor.

Mantis looks at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry! The storm kept making the loud noises and I was scared and-"

Your door flings open. Peter and Drax tumble in asking what's wrong, where's the danger?

Waving them off you say irritably, "Nothing. It's nothing. Just wasn't expecting to wake up to Mantis in my bed."

Peter lightly chuckles, almost nervously, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess we should have told you she can be a cuddler, huh?"

You throw a look at him and Drax. "You think?" You then shield your eyes. "Dude! Put some pants on or something!"

And that's how you also unfortunately learned that Drax sleeps in the nude.

***

Breakfast went more or less smoothly. You had to find a straw for Groot so he could drink out of a cup, and someone spilled their drink all over the floor, and Rocket made one or two more complaints about the indignity of needing to sleep in a crib, but all-in-all it went fairly smoothly.

Well, if you didn't count Rocket snapping at Kraglin's arm for accidentally resting his elbow on his tail. That was also how the drink got spilled, by the way. You just gave them an unamused glance at threw a towel at them from the counter on your way to grab an apple. They got the message.

Ok, so it wasn't totally smooth, but it definitely could have been worse. Maybe.

When you were finished your breakfast you got up to do the dishes you had meant to wash the previous night, this time being sure not to burn your hands off. Rocket hopped on the counter to drop his bowl in while you were washing, promptly scampering off without so much as a please or thank you, which slightly annoyed you, and you turned to side eye him as he hopped off the counter, but you let it slide for then.

It apparently also annoyed Peter too as you heard him say in a hushed irritated whisper, "Rocket!" only to be responded with Rocket whispering back "What? She was already doing them!"

You pretended you couldn't hear them.

After you finished the dishes and wiped up the counter you went upstairs, having had an idea that might prevent another incident like this morning from happening.

You made your way into your room and closed the door behind you before heading to your desk to retrieve the key to the attic from the top drawer.

This would prove pointless, however, as you'd soon find that not only had Fury's team not bothered to lock it back up when they finished, they hadn't even properly latched it. You sigh in annoyance, but push on to the attic anyway.

You come to the landing and take in the space you hadn't visited in some time. Boxes stacked neatly around the rafted walls leaving plenty space to walk. Light peaked through the small windows at either end of the rectangular space.

You located the box you came for on the furthermost corner of the attic, the stretch of floor that rested above the ceiling of the room Drax now stayed in. You open the box, and pull out a stuffed bear, looking at it with a mix of longing and sadness, remembering who owned it past. Shaking the memories away, you thought to open another box next to it, pulling from it a small wooden toy car. It wasn't fancy, little more than a carved block of red-painted wood with some windows bored-in and some black stained wooden wheels, but you still thought it'd be a nice gesture- you mean, you thought it'd keep the kid busy... You doubted they had brought many toys with them to keep him occupied.

And after all, how much could these items really serve you by staying up in the attic til the end of time?

A teddy bear for Mantis, and a toy car for the little wooden child to play with.

After a moment of being stuck in the memories the objects brought, you close the boxes back up and leave the attic with the toys, locking the door after you made it back into the bedroom. You placed the bear on Mantis's pillow, and went to return the key to the drawer.

Before heading downstairs you decided you would leave the toy in the room Groot was staying in, rather than give it to the child directly. You weren't good with sentiment, and he'd find it soon enough anyway. Less awkward this way.

The door was open so you stepped just inside. A wood framed double bed rested in the left corner, the crib that Rocket seemed so unhappy with rested in the right. The twisting in your stomach came back, and you set the toy to the right of the doorframe on the floor, eager to leave the room. Too many memories, none of which you wanted.

You wanted to clear your head, so you decided you'd have a tend to your garden, make sure the storm hadn't torn anything asunder, and you were sure that it could use a good weeding anyway. You could also stand a little time alone, too. You weren't used to having people around the house anymore, let alone eight of them having been sprung on you overnight. Questionable judgement on your part, volunteering for this was, you were sure. Then you remembered this was all part of Fury's plan anyway, so you supposed the choice wasn't even really yours, so maybe you weren't entirely to blame.

You had just sat down on the hall bench to lace your boots when you noticed Mantis and Gamora coming out of the sitting room, Mantis looking uncomfortable and Gamora irritated as they made their way past you and to the end of the hall.

Gamora knocked on the bathroom door roughly and in a loud but firm voice said, "Rocket! Hurry up, Mantis has to go and she says you've been in there forever."

"I have not!" came Rocket's reply, "And why doesn't she use the one upstairs?"

"Drax is taking a shower." Gamora answered irritably.

"So?" came Rocket's incredulous reply.

"Rocket." Gamora said warningly.

"If she can't pee just 'cause someone's showering then she can hold it," came the response from behind the door.

Mantis made a small unhappy noise and shifted uncomfortably, prompting Gamora to smack the door once more. "Rocket!" she said more forcefully, her tone having switched fully from irritated to angry.

You narrowed your eyes as you tied. Clearly the raccoon was going to be a problem.

"Ok! Ok! Jeez!" Rocket said in frustration, opening the door and walking out, Mantis quickly entering once he had cleared the doorway.

Gamora just huffed at him in annoyance and began to walk back towards the sitting room.

Having just finished tying your boots you pulled your jeans over them and straightened up, eyes still narrowed at Rocket, which he noticed.

"What?"

"Don't do that again." you say flatly, reaching over to grab your earbuds from the hall table. "You keep being an asshole and we're gonna have a problem."

Rocket looked at you defiantly, arms crossed, clearly irritated that you were telling him what to do. "What you gonna do about it?"

Still in the hallway, Gamora turned to glare at him.

Yondu exited the kitchen from the door further up the hall, saw Gamora glaring and turned to see you and Rocket looking like you were about to have a standoff. He had half-heard the conversation from the kitchen, but stood there with an eyebrow raised, curious to see how'd this would turn out.

You looked at Rocket calmly as you put one earbud in. "Fuck around and find out." was your only answer as you inserted your other earbud and turned into the kitchen via the other door at the end opposite of Yondu, making your way towards the back door.

Yondu chuckled and Gamora rolled her eyes as Rocket flipped you the bird behind your back and angrily stormed past them to the sitting room.

***

Yondu found Peter in the sitting room looking among the many bookshelves along the back and sides of the back half of the room.

"Ya reckon you can still read Terran, boy?"

Peter looked at him, ignoring that 'Terran' wasn't a language, and said in a slightly offended tone, "Of course!" before quietly adding, "The translator helps too..." under his breath as he turned back to examining the books.

Kraglin laughed from his place on the sofa. "Didn't know Quill could read at all, Cap'n."

Peter shot him a glare even though he knew Kraglin wouldn't be able to see it and Rocket, who was also sitting on the couch to keep an eye on Groot, said, "Why you still call him captain? Did you forget about a little thing called a mutiny? Pretty sure you were there..."

Gamora and Peter both snapped at him, Gamora hissing "Rocket!" and Peter scolding, "Not cool, dude!"

Yondu eyed him. "Ya know I can still run my arrow through you, right, Rat?" He leaned against a bookshelf. "Yer lucky it'd be mighty rude to get yer blood all over the floor of our host."

Rocket mock held his hands up, "Alright, alright, soRRy. Didn't know the wound was still fresh. Lighten up."

This only earned him a few eye-rolls before Peter returned his gaze to the bookcases. "There's so many." he said. He picked up a white book that said "Atlas of Human Anatomy" and flipped though the pages. "Whoa." he said flipping the book around to show Yondu the pictures.

"Yeah, that's what yer insides look like, boy."

Gamora approached and Peter handed her the book while he took another one from a shelf higher up. Gamora looked that the pictures and said, "Hm. You only have one liver. Explains why you're such a lightweight."

This earned chuckles from the others and Peter said, "I'm gonna ignore that. Look at this one." He was holding a book of fairytales. "I should tell you some of these stories sometime," he said, looking at the list of titles. "I remember my mom telling me at least half of these."

Yondu decided he might as well glance over the books as well, seeing as he didn't exactly have much better to do. He peered over the titles; Herbal Medicine- might be good to know... Grim Tales of Horror- Heh, maybe he could scare Quill with it... Wound Treatment- definitely good to know... Archery Fundamentals- he might actually look at that one later, just to see how the Terrans do it... What to Expect When You're Expecting- weird title, wonder what that's about?

Before he could pick up the book to examine it Kraglin spoke up. "Hey Pete, is it normal for Terran houses to be this... empty?"

"What do you mean?" asked Mantis, having just walked in to rejoin the group. "It doesn't appear to be empty?" She glanced around at the furniture in confusion.

"No, I don't mean that. I mean- Like there's no photos? Don't most people keep photos of their families and stuff out? Little knick-knacks? Personal effects?"

Peter looked around. "You're right. Well- at least that's how I remember it. My grandparents did, so did all my relatives." It finally hit him how there seemed to be none of that in your house. "I guess it is weird."

Yondu had noticed too the first night they arrived. Not a single photo adorned the walls or shelves. Not in the sitting room, not in the hall or kitchen either. A few plants sat here and there, but other than that, there was almost no personality. It did feel empty, for lack of better word.

Rocket spoke up, suggesting that maybe you just "didn't feed into all that sentimental crap."

The others shrugged. Maybe he was right.

However, Yondu felt there might be something to the emptiness. He felt something was a little off, although he kept it to himself. It was likely nothing a little watchful eye wouldn't suss out. He had already been watching you, trying to get a read on his new host. It was strange to him that you would live in a place this big by yourself, and it didn't help matters that you hadn't seemed willing to answer that question when he asked. Sure, it was none of his business really, but still odd.

***

Mantis came outside just as you were about finished weeding. She stopped to admire the growing cabbages and asked a few questions about the various other vegetables and you removed an ear bud to give her answers, albeit short ones. Soon enough she got distracted by a small white butterfly and wondered off to chase it. "Don't go into the forest!" you call after her. "Don't want you getting lost!"

She hollered back an "Ok!" and you turned back to finish pulling the last of the weeds.

Once you were finished you dusted yourself off and decided to head inside for some water. You had only gotten a few feet inside when you could hear the sound of Mantis screaming, and it was getting closer. You turned around just in time for her to run through the door and into you.

Alarmed, you check her over. You instinctually grab onto her hands, then her shoulders, and finally cupping her face as you looked up and down for any injury as you say, "What?! What's wrong?!"

Mantis sniffed. "I saw this cloud of tiny black things, I thought it looked interesting, so I reached to touch it, and they started biting."

You let out a breath. Midges. She had only reached into a cloud of midges. "Gah-! Don't scare me like that! I thought you'd been hurt!" you scold. Seeing her hurt expression you softened. "Let me see."

She showed you her hand and her upper arm. The rest of her arm had fortunately been spared by her long arm bands. "It itches."

"Yeah, just what I thought. Midge bites." Sure enough, little faint pink welts were already forming that you missed earlier in your shock. Normally the bites didn't appear so fast, but you assumed it must just be because whatever type of alien she was made her more sensitive to them. "You'll be fine. Come here." You led her to a drawer and pulled out a tube of gel that would help with the itching. You applied the gel for her. "Better?" you asked.

She nodded and you told her that if she needed the gel again she could find it in the same drawer, also telling her not to scratch the bites lest she make them worse before sending her off.

Once she left you sighed and finally got your water. As you drank you contemplated finding something else to keep you busy.

***

Yondu had been about to head upstairs when he heard a muffled sound of Mantis yelling before it was abruptly cut off with an "Oof!"

He walked to the doorway to see what was going on, telling himself he wasn't being nosy, he just... had nothing better to do what with being stuck here and all.

He watched as you checked Mantis over, as you scolded her for scaring you, and as you treated her bites, noticing that Mantis's "feelers," as he called them, glowed almost the whole time, though you didn't seem to notice yourself, being preoccupied.

He huffed a silent laugh through his nose. For you not being exactly happy with this arrangement, your actions now didn't exactly match your previous "I don't care, just don't annoy me." attitude. But maybe he was just reading it wrong. Maybe you were only worried because your boss wouldn't be happy if any of them got hurt while in your care.

When you sent Mantis off and he saw she was approaching the doorway he quickly backed out so as to not be seen spying.

"Hey, Bug." he said quietly once she was in the hall, making her jump.

Seeing it was only him, she relaxed and gave a friendly smile. "Yes?"

"Come here," he nodded toward the stairs. "Walk with me."

She obeyed and together they ascended the stairs.

"So, yer feelers there, they glow when yer doin' that 'reading peoples feelins' thing, right?"

Mantis nodded, smiling wide.

"Couldn't help but notice you two in the kitchen," he admitted, adding that he noticed she was doing her empath thing back there when you were fixing her up, and asked what kind of reading she got off you. Just out of curiosity, of course...

Mantis pondered and said, "It felt... maternal? Almost? It was quite nice to feel. It was almost like being hugged."

"Huh..." is all he managed to respond. Maybe Mantis was mistaking your real emotion for something else? It didn't quite fit with 'grumpy reclusive agent who got tricked into taking in a group of dysfunctional people.'

He then asked her if you knew she could 'do that', meaning read someone empathically. He wondered if it would be possible for Terrans to fake an emotion well enough to fool an empath. He highly doubted it, but who was really to say?

Mantis shook her head. She said she hadn't thought to bring it up, and asked him if she should tell you right now, wondering if she had been rude by not saying something.

He responded by telling her not to tell you yet.

"Why? Mantis asked.

"Oh, because it'll be real funny later, trust me." he said. It wasn't the real reason, but he knew that she was more likely to keep a secret if he told her that. She liked to make people laugh.

"Oh! Like a practical joke!" she giggled.

"Uh, sure. Like that." Yondu smiled. "You can run along now, Bug."

Mantis trotted down the stairs while Yondu pondered over the odd puzzle pieces of his host.

***

You spent most of the day feeling antsy. You had always made it a point to keep yourself busy with your work, either for Fury or with work on your home, and knowing that you were essentially retired for the foreseeable future made you anxious.

It was when Peter came outside for some fresh air that he found you pacing along the back of the house, seemingly making an effort not to go past the windows.

"You're gonna wear a hole in the ground." he joked.

You only looked at him and sighed, but continued pacing.

Sensing you were agitated about something he tried to break the ice. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about." you reply.

"Right. So you're just pacing for no reason. I'm sure it has nothing to do with any recent changes or anything." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door with a knowing grin.

"Look- Just... I'm just not used to this," you admitted. "I'm not used to people being here, I'm not used to not working on a case..." you continued to pace.

"Well," Peter pondered, "What would you be doing if we weren't here? What would you do on a normal day off."

"I'd be working on the electrical, but Fury just had to take that away from me." you say with a toss of your hand towards the house.

"Oh." Peter said. He couldn't help you there. "Well, what would you normally do to relax?"

You stopped. "What?" You shook your head, "I don't need to relax, I just need to find something to do." You began pacing again.

Peter gave you a strange look. He remembered what he heard Fury say the previous night about you not having taken a vacation in five years. "You really don't know how to relax, do you?"

You then stop pacing in front of him, as if trying to prove him wrong. "I could if I wanted." you say defiantly.

"Sure ya can." He grinned back at you.

He was trying to bait you. You rolled your eyes and waved him off. "What do you know." You start to pace again but then stop to look at him again. "You, um, ever had Earth food before?"

Peter smiles. "Well I lived here until I was eight, so yeah. I've had it before."

You widen your eyes slightly in surprise. "So you're from Earth?- I didn't realize. I just thought you were all from space."

"Nope."

"And the other guy- Kraglin?"

"Nah, He looks Terran, but he's from Xandar. It's just me."

"Oh," you say, the wonder of how he had come about living in space being brushed aside by your need to be busy, "Well have any of the others tried Earth food before? 'Cause I could maybe cook something tonight... you know, to pass the time." You were already mentally preparing the ingredients in your head. You already knew you had potatoes in the cellar, and some meat and a bag of mixed frozen veggies in the freezer. You were almost certain you didn't have any lamb, but you could substitute ground beef and make shepherd's pie like your grandmother used to make.

"I could ask, but I'm sure they'd be willing. They're not exactly the type of bunch to turn down free food." he laughed.

"Nah, don't bother. If they eat it, they eat it. If they don't, they don't. I don't care," you say, not meeting his eyes as you shoo him from the door so you could enter the house. "Not like it's gonna be a regular thing, ya know. Just doing it 'cause I'm bored."

"Right. Of course." Peter said, smiling as he followed you inside. If living with Yondu and later Rocket had taught him anything, it was how to tell if someone was putting up a shell, and you definitely were. He then made it his mission to chip it away. Who knew how long they'd be stuck there? Might as well attempt to make friends with you in the meantime.

You pulled out a skillet and let it heat up with some oil before grabbing some ground beef from the freezer.

"Need any help?" Peter asked.

"Nope. Go play." you say absentmindedly, setting the package on the counter.

Peter chuckled. "Go play?"

You shook your head. "Eh- You know what I meant. Shoo. I'll call you when it's finished."

"Maybe another time then." he said, slightly disappointed you were kicking him out of the kitchen as he wanted to try and get to know you a little, but he didn't show it.

"Yeah, maybe." you reply, already heading to the cellar with a bowl to grab some potatoes.

***

Peter mentioned that you were cooking to the others when he joined them in the sitting room, mostly to tell them that even if they (Rocket) didn't end up liking this Terran food, to still try and be nice. He said that while you acted like you didn't care if they ate it or not, he didn't want anyone (Rocket) being rude because he could tell you were having a rough time adjusting to everything.

Rocket rolled his eyes but everyone seemed to more or less agree with Peter to be nice and went back to what they were doing.

It didn't take long for the smell to start wafting from the kitchen, prompting Kraglin to say that whatever you were making, it at least smelled good.

Groot nodded then looked at Rocket. "I am Groot."

"I don't want to play tag." said Rocket.

Groot made puppy dog eyes at Rocket. "I am Groot."

"It won't hurt ya to play with the kid for a little bit, boy." said Yondu, polishing his arrow at the the table on the other end of the room by the bookcases.

"You do it then!" Rocket complained.

"I'm too old to be doing that kid stuff, boy. 'Sides, yer more Twig's size." he chuckled, never looking up from his task.

"I am Groot." Groot said sadly, really laying it on thick. Peter and Gamora hid smiles behind their hands as they pretended to be focused on the movie playing on the TV screen, Kraglin finally having figured out how the Netflix worked.

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Alright! Fine! I'll play the stupid game." he relented, muttering under his breath that he shouldn't have ever taught him that game.

Groot shot up in glee and tagged him on the knee before taking off towards Yondu, making a hard left about a meter from the table and causing Rocket to slide on the wooden floor into the table leg. Yondu laughed so hard he nearly dropped his arrow and Rocket glared at him before declaring that Groot was "Really in for it now!" and making chase, following the tiny tree child out into the hall and up the stairs.

***

You listened to the sound of giggles and little feet running upstairs, then down the stairs, getting louder and softer depending where the little feet happened to run and you smiled. You missed that sound... You shook yourself out of the memory before it could play in your mind, refusing to let yourself get sentimental over a sound.

You had just put the mix of meat and veggies into a glass pan and turned away from the stove to start mashing your drained potatoes when a flash of brown and orange zoomed past your feet and nearly made you lose your balance.

"Hey Hey! No running in the kitchen! Take it outside!" you cry out, grateful you hadn't been carrying anything. "Shouldn't need to tell you that, I'm not your mother." You shoot them a warning look as you continued over to the counter.

Then you hear Rocket say, "Good thing! You'd probably be terrible at it!"

You swallow and clenched your jaw, looking down at the bowl of potatoes. "Get out of the kitchen," you say firmly, not looking towards him.

Rocket raised an eyebrow, having expected more of a fight than just being told calmly to leave, but he did so anyway when Groot tugged on his the leg of his outfit.

***

Peter and Gamora's head snapped toward the kitchen when they heard you scolding the boys, and their eyes narrowed a bit when they heard Rocket's response, but like him they of course hadn't realized the weight of his words. They only knew that there was no reason for him to say that other than him just wanting to be a dick.

When Rocket walked back into the sitting room Kraglin was the one who scolded him this time. "Do you really need to be such an ass to everyone you meet?"

This was followed by Gamora scolding him and saying that you didn't have to let them stay here, and that maybe he should try not to be so mean to the person willing to let them stay in their home.

Rocket looked to Drax, and then Yondu, to back him up, but he received nothing, so he settled for grumbling and climbing on top of the back of the couch to sulk.

***

An hour later Peter walked back into the kitchen to get some water and saw you putting plates out.

"Food's done, if you want to get the others." you say gruffly, putting down the last of the plates.

Your table wasn't quite big enough to fit everyone, being only a six seater, but you figured the kid and the asshole raccoon could eat up on the counter until a better solution could be found.

The other's filed in as you put the pan of food on a towel in the middle of the table. You look up. "Food's there." You then point to the spatula, "Here's something to serve it. Help yourselves." you say, adding that Groot and Rocket could eat on the counter since the table wasn't big enough before starting to walk toward the other door as the others sat down.

"You're not eating with us?" asked Mantis, seeming a little disappointed.

You kept walking. "Not hungry."

Yondu narrowed his eyes and spoke. "Should we assume it's poisoned then?"

This make you turn back. "Why the hell would I poison it?" you ask angrily.

Yondu stayed cool, crossing his arms and tilting his chin up as he said, "Well you went to the trouble to cook, but you're not eating it. Seems mighty suspicious to me."

Drax and Kraglin exchanged confused glances. Neither of them understood why Yondu was accusing you of trying to kill them.

Yondu didn't really think you had poisoned the food, he was doing one of the things he did best. Playing a con. He was as sure as he was blue that your lack of appetite was a direct cause of Rocket being an absolute shit, and he'd be damned if someone was going to offer their home and cook for his group and then not join to eat it because the rat hurt their feelings. He may have been a space pirate, but he still knew a thing or two about good form, and that wasn't it.

"First off, it wasn't trouble. Only did it because I got bored. I couldn't care less if you eat it or not," you said with a roll of your eyes, trying to keep your tone even despite the insult.

"I think you'd care if I said I'm not gonna let anyone else eat it either until you sit down and prove to me it's not poisoned by eating with us."

Your nostrils flare. "You can't be serious."

"Oh I am. What's it gonna be? Ya really gonna let me make Twig and Bug here go hungry?" He grinned a wide smug grin and received a confused look from Peter who was wondering why he was acting like this. Gamora shot Peter a look as if to ask the same question, but he just shrugged and shook his head to let her know he was just as confused as she was. Mantis and Groot just looked at Yondu like he was nuts.

You seethed but approached the cabinet to pull down a plate for yourself. "You're a real peice of work. Come into my house and accuse me of poisoning you lot-"

"Yeah, yeah. Just eat it." Yondu snarked.

You refused to eat until everyone else was served, but did finally relent to take the first bite to satisfy the blue man's irritating request.

Seemingly satisfied, Yondu gave the clear for everyone else to eat, and despite the awkward and rocky start, the rest of supper actually went more smoothly than breakfast had. You didn't speak much, but everyone else seemed to like the meal well enough.

When everyone had finished Peter insisted that he and Yondu stay behind to do the the dishes for you, saying it'd be rude to make you both cook and clean up. You didn't argue, wanting to put distance between you and them anyway. You stated that you were going to go take a shower, convinced that the new boiler Fury imposed upon you could handle both water uses at once.

Once Peter was sure you were gone he turned to Yondu. "What the hell was that? What happened to agreeing to be nice?"

"I was nice." Yondu said flippantly.

Gamora scolded him, saying that accusing you of poisoning them wasn't "nice."

He only shrugged, handing a plate to Peter and stating that it got you to eat, so he didn't care.

This, of course, earned looks of bewilderment from the rest of the team. He continued, "It would've been bad form to let our host cook and then not eat any of it, boy. Thought I'd have taught ya better than that."

Peter frowned. "No, you taught me to fight and steal things."

Yondu gave him a look but didn't get a chance to reply before Rocket hopped down from the counter saying, "Who cares if she didn't want supper? She's an adult."

Yondu then turned his full attention to Rocket, saying that he knew it was his fault you hadn't wanted to eat in the first place.

"Me?! What did I do?" Rocket scoffed, majorly offended by the accusation.

Drax answered, "You've been rude since we got here. You complain about everything, and you insulted our host just for telling you not to run through the kitchen."

Rocket rolled his eyes. "Really?" He looked defiantly up at Drax, "You honestly think me saying she'd make a terrible mother hurt her widdle feelings? Look around! She doesn't even have kids!"

Tired of hearing him, Yondu said, "If yer not gonna be helpful, Rat, go find somewhere else to be."

"Fine. Bye, losers." was Rocket's reply as he collected Groot and departed for their room.

***

After your shower you stayed in your room for the rest of the evening, scrolling through tumblr on your phone to pass the time.

Eventually Mantis comes up to get ready for bed, and she spots the teddy bear you left on her pillow. "What's this?" she asks, picking it up.

"Teddy Bear. You sleep with it. Figured you could, you know, cuddle that instead when you get scared at night."

Mantis's eyes grow wide, and her waterline wet. Her bottom lip quivers as she says, "You- You gave me a gift?"

Really hoping she wasn't about to cry you say, "If you want to call it that, I guess..."

Mantis practically attacks you with a hug and an excited squeal. "Thank you! Thank you! I love it!"

You all but fall backward on the bed from her hug attack. "Uh- Glad you like it." you manage, patting her on the back before gently persuading her to let go.

She straightened up and hugged the bear tightly to her chest with a big smile before setting it back on her pillow so she could get ready for bed. Before she left, however, she came back to you and grabbed your hands, saying again how much she loved the bear, and you honestly started to wonder if she had never been given a gift in her life.

You noticed the little antennae on her head were now glowing, and you then wondered if that was happening because she was happy as you felt an unexpected, though not unwelcome, feeling of peace and happiness wash over you.

You smile, finding her whole display endearing as she giggled and released your hands before finally leaving the room.

By the time she came back about 15 minutes later, the feeling had already worn off, replaced by your previous melancholy. You heard Mantis returning and you pretended to be asleep just in case she would have tried to hug attack you again.

Once her breath deepened and you thought she was asleep you sat up. Maybe a walk would make you feel better.

You quietly pull on some jeans and made your way out of the bedroom into the dark landing, taking a moment to notice a thin line of light under the door of the room Yondu and Kraglin were sharing.

You didn't turn on the light before descending the stairs. You knew this house like the back of your hand, even in the dark, and you quietly made your way down so as to not disturb any sleepers.

You make your way into the hall to grab your boots and ear buds before cutting through the kitchen and opening the back door. Putting in your ear buds and finding some music reflective of your mood, you set out into the cool night air.

***

Yondu and Kraglin stayed up a bit later in their room, just talking about nothing of much importance. How Rocket was being a dick, how it was mostly his fault they had to go into hiding, and wondering how long it might be until they could all come out of hiding.

Yondu's bed was pushed against the window, his and Kraglin's beds much in a similar arrangement to yours and Mantis's.

Movement outside caught his eye.

"What is it?" Kraglin asked, noticing how Yondu's attention had turned to the window and he had gone quiet.

Yondu turned to him, a look of puzzlement painting his face, and he told him it looked like you were walking out into the forest.

Kraglin raised an eyebrow. "What would she be doing that for?"

Yondu shook his head to indicate his lack of explanation.

"Should we investigate?"

Yondu thought for a moment before deciding they wouldn't follow you. Not yet.

But he'd be keeping an eye on you.

[dreamsafterhours]

⚠️ tw: tragic backstories and crippling angst lol, mentions of deceased parents, drowning mentions, implied suic*de, grief, renjun's cute english (all mistakes in his dialogue are intentional. enjoy)

i had no idea this would get such enthusiastic reactions. thank you everyone who requested a continuation, hope this makes you feel something and answers some questions ♡

this is part three of merman!renjun, find parts one and two here :))

1:44pm: "did it hurt?"

merman!renjun glanced up at runaway prince!jeno's prompt, who stared expectantly at him through the bars of his cell.

"what?"

the prince gestured at renjun's legs and spoke matter-of-factly. "your tail. it's gone. did it hurt?"

"oh... yes." he wiggled his toes. "it hurt."

"a lot?"

renjun paused and hugged his knees a little closer into his chest. "yes."

"and you... can't transform back." pirate!you lifted your chin to make eye contact with renjun, who pursed his lips and nodded in response.

"magic is no-come-back," he said with a shrug.

"irreversible," the prince offered.

"irressimble. no merperson ever come back from land."

your heart and eyes sank to your lap. "right."

poor haechan.

you found yourself getting to your feet. "i... i'm gonna leave you two to catch up." dusting off your palms on your hips, you cleared your throat. "let me know if you, uh, need anything, alright?"

renjun nodded.

"right. um... your highness." you offered a quick curtsey towards jeno, who scoffed lightly at the difference between your usual domineering behaviour and your attempt at character continuity.

as you made your way up the stairs, you remembered the time pirate!haechan had first opened up to you about his past. you had both been younger, yet already best of friends.

"cap'n the only family you got?" he tossed a grape into his mouth.

"we have an older sister. on land, though. runs an orphanage."

he made a noise of interest. "parents?"

you shook your head as you reached for another grape. "shipwreck, funnily enough. you?"

"three siblings. all younger than me."

you chortled at the thought. "you? the eldest?"

"i'm more responsible than you give me credit for," he retorted, a dramatic hand placed on his chest in mock offence.

"yeah, right. i'll give you credit when you don't slack off."

he laughed, and the two of you sat in silence for a moment.

you reached the top of the stairs, and took a moment to let yourself adjust to the sunlight. scanning the deck through squinted eyes, you spotted haechan at the bow of the ship, his back turned to you as he stared out at the ocean.

"your parents still around?" you had asked.

his brow had furrowed at the stars above and his chewing grew hesitant. you had started to apologise, realising you'd struck a nerve, but he shook his head and reassured you it wasn't your fault.

"dad's there, yeah. mum's, uh... mum was a mermaid."

a sound of surprise escaped your lips.

"—or so my father told us. she came to shore, grew legs and lived as a human. had my siblings and i... and loved my father. loved us."

you chose to listen in silence and watch as he focused on peeling the skin off the grape he held in his hands.

"we were at the beach one day. i guess she missed her home, 'cause she barely said anything and just stared out to sea." he took a slow, shallow breath. "i asked her to come and... and play with us. and she... took my hands, told me she loved me... let me go, and—and just walked straight in. right through the waves. didn't stop. never saw her again."

you didn't know what to say, so you went with the safe option. "i'm so sorry."

"nah," he said, trying to disguise his sniffling with a deep inhale, "all in the past. i used to be mad about it, but i'm over that now. she's probably happier."

you sighed at the sight of him. he was barely moving, but his loose shirt and hair whipped around in the wind. no, you aren't.

leaning your elbows on the taffrail next to him, you watched the hull of the ship split the ocean surface, leaving waves in her wake and advancing still.

you weren't taken aback when you turned towards haechan and was met with tears streaming steadily down his cheeks, their trail from his grief-stricken eyes shining in the sun.

he could barely maintain eye contact with you, his gaze drawn to the horizon again. a wet exhale left his lips before he pursed them tighter and gripped the railing until his knuckles turned white.

"the merman's telling the truth, then?" he managed, his tone laced with anger. "you can't transform back once you grow legs?"

"haechan, i—"

"you can't transform back, then what happened to my mum, huh?" he demanded, perhaps towards you, perhaps not. "you're telling me she walked in to die? to drown in her own home?"

"haechan."

"you mean i let her go for what? for nothing?"

"hey—"

he sniffed and shook his head, "no. no, it can't be true. maybe he just doesn't know her. my house is on the other end of the earth, he probably never even heard of someone returning because he's never met—"

"haechan." you caught his shoulder and he gripped your hand, to throw it off or for support, you couldn't tell—until his breath was sucked out of his lungs, his head hung and he gave in to the sobs that racked his body. his weight fell forward as his knees buckled, and you caught him with practised foresight.

the two of you sank to your knees, his face buried in your shoulder and balled fists clutching the fabric of your shirt. murmuring your words of comfort and drawing circles on his back, you let him grieve his mother a second and final time.

when he finally exhausted himself and you stopped having to remove your hand from his head to wave away anyone who approached you, renjun climbed onto the deck in search of you. he frowned in confusion when he recognised haechan and stayed wary as he drew nearer.

haechan noticed his presence and pulled himself out of your arms and onto his feet. clearing his throat, he raised his eyes to the merman's.

"i shouldn't have touched you," he began awkwardly, "i was... stupid, and... it almost cost you your life. i'm sorry."

renjun looked like he didn't know what to respond with. "you are welcome," he replied hesitantly.

taken aback at the unexpected answer, haechan cleared his throat again and walked past the boy.

renjun turned back towards you, tilting his head in puzzlement. "why is he sad?"

you sighed deeply before standing up too. "haechan's mother was a mermaid."

renjun's lips parted in shock.

"she had legs, too, and lived on land. but she missed the sea, so she said goodbye and went back." you gestured over his shoulder at haechan's disappearing figure down the stairs, his gaze following your hand. "he never knew merpeople couldn't transform back, so he thought she was still alive."

the boy didn't meet your eyes when he turned back around. a moment of silence smothered any further words you might have said.

"and he tried help me and push me back in water."

"... yes. he thought... you would be happier in the water."

another beat.

"he is not happy."

"no, he isn't."

you paused to let him contemplate.

"but. she was happy."

"hmm?"

"his mother. she was happy."

then it was your turn to tilt your head to the side.

"mermaids choose legs," he explained, "his mother choose land."

"merpeople choose to transform permanently?"

he nodded eagerly, "choose to t...ransform pernamamently. i choose because you protect."

"because i protected you?"

"yes. i am in danger and you protec-ted me. i choose tarnsform tail to legs."

you mulled over this consideration. "i... i'll let him know. thank you, renjun."

"you are welcome," he responded with certainty, offering you his first smile, albeit small.

you managed to smile back. "alright," you declared, "how about some lunch? you hungry?"

i reckon there's room for part four.. hm hm thoughts thoughts

part one | part two

taglist: @whattaweeb @radiorenjun

[dadsbongos]

Greetings! I got this idea for danganronpa AU where Nagito is like ghost "living" (or haunting idk-) his old house and the reader moves into that house and they slowly became closer and yk<3

hi i love this concept :)

Request for: Nagito Komaeda Warnings: nagito’s backstory, slight religious overtones, we breach minor ghost-fucker territory (but no actual ghost-fucking), no-killing game au also ~~~

The house itself was rather nice. Nothing too luxurious for who the previous owner was aside from the obnoxiously fancy chandelier hanging in the den.

The realtor was hesitant to explain that the reason it was selling so comically cheap was, in fact, due to the belief of a ghost. Not just any, however. It was the previous owner’s ghost.

People who even stepped into the house could feel his chilling touch. Hear quiet, shaky whispers in the night. The fireplace would crackle and burst to life at strange times with nobody near it. Visitors and almost-buyers alike would thrust their warnings to stay away upon anybody who so much as looked at the home.

But that didn’t matter much - a house was a house and it’s not like the ghost was malicious from description. Just… annoying. Perhaps a little eerie, but again, not harmful. Everybody escaped without physical injury. So, why not buy it?

Maybe the ghost just needed a friend? Death was probably a lonely time.

Bought on Tuesday. Moved in Wednesday. Finished unpacking… still pending.

It’s not like (Y/n) had anybody to impress anyways. She’d made the move for a fresh start; new faces, new stories.

The bumps began on Friday.

Sometimes they were taps. Sometimes crashes followed by the gentle rapping against the walls, as if to apologize for the loud noise.

She’d stayed through the month, undeterred by any of the ghosts’ activities.

Then the happenings seemed a little more… intimate.

A photo slowly sliding out from beneath the fridge, at first.

Three people in frame. From left to right, there was a figure with shoulder-length pink hair and a smile to make the heavens jealous - then white hair to rival a cloud-marshmallow love child, skin sickly pale and body wastingly thin - finally, brown hair with an ahoge sticking out like an antenna and posture that almost made him taller than the one in the middle. Well, not really, but attempting counted, right? 

“Which one’s you?” she asked the air, whether she was too tired, or simply didn’t care enough, to be embarrassed was irrelevant. 

A single droplet of water, from a leak she didn’t know existed until this very moment, fell from the ceiling before splotching over the face of the one in the middle.

“White hair, heavy eye bags?”

There was no response, but she took it as a yes anyway. What a pretty, pretty face. In a tragic way.

Because he did look rather ill. Frail build and purple hues under his eyes. Pretty but suffering - it made her feel bad. Of course, she already knew he was dead, but even so - suffering should always inspire empathy rather than romance.

And again, he was dead, so the likelihood of a romance between them anyway was slim to none. None. Unless she suddenly dropped dead, there would be no sweet kisses in the morning or gentle hugs from behind as one of them makes dinner. Maybe when she died, he’d be available for a ghostly date while the house gets put back on the market.

(Y/n) chuckled at the sudden thought of lightning cracking into her home, despite the sunny weather, and striking her dead where she stood. Ridiculous, but God liked ridiculous things.

The sudden thought hit her - what if that old photo was old old? Maybe he was eighty when he died and she just subconsciously signed herself up for a date with an elderly ghost?

Shaking her head, (Y/n) scolded herself for the thought. She’d already be dead by then, it wouldn’t matter what age he was...

Then, it was the scribbling on spare papers. Always specifically spares. Double copies she had put in recycling. Scraps. Even on the backs of paper-esque trash. It was an oddly considerate move for a ghost, though to be fair, she’d never met a ghost before and couldn’t tell if it was out-of-place or not for them.

The words always appeared when she was out of the room. Leaving to grab something and coming back to find the out-dated schedule for work out of recycling and on her desk with crayon sprawled over it. 

Hi 

Eloquently said, in her opinion.

“Hi?” she looked around the room, “Can you not talk? I thought people said they heard whispers…”

A bang in the other room drew her out. When there was nothing out of place, she returned to her desk only to be met with more words.

I’m Nagito Komaeda :)

“Dodging the question, huh?”

The process repeated. Bang. Nothing out of the ordinary. Return. New words.

Sorry :(

“Don’t apologize,” (Y/n) shrugged off before moving to her computer, “I’m just gonna look you up.”

A series of bangs - now that she truly listened, it sounded like a fist pounding to the drywall - resonated through the home. She did not get up nor did she pause her actions of Googling the man known as Nagito Komaeda. 

Until a piece of paper flew in from the open door.

Bad idea

“Probably, yeah,” she huffed, moving back to her computer.

Nagito Komaeda, born April 28th, first popped up as the sole survivor in an old plane hijacking report. Both parents, all plane staff, and the hijackers left dead after the plane crash caused by a meteor strike. Then he came up as a survivor of an old serial kidnapper/killer. Then as a boy who’d inherited the entirety of his parents’ fortune and won a large sum from a lottery ticket he’d found in the trash bag he was stuffed in by his kidnapper. Then as a Hope’s Peak graduate under the title Ultimate Lucky Student.

Finally, as a 25-year-old man who’d miraculously survived ten years post-diagnosis with frontotemporal dementia and advanced lymphoma before his death.

“Holy shit,” she nearly choked on her own shock, “You weren’t boring, that’s for sure.”

Another paper, this time written in marker as if he could sense that she didn’t wish to get up. Another strangely considerate move.

Thanks 

You’re not creeped out?

“I mean, it’s more sad than creepy,” her eyes scanned over a single line in the article once again.

“Nagito Komaeda, after all his fortunes and misfortunes alike, died at age 25, after ten years of illness, surrounded by friends who took the place of family. Out of respect, no interviews were conducted, but anybody, anyone at all even from a quick glance, could tell - Nagito Komaeda will surely be missed.” 

Her eyes watered slightly as she clicked out of the Togami Publications, laughing at the pure awkwardness of her situation, “Oh my God, that’s really fucking sad. I’m sorry your life sucked.”

Another paper.

It’s fine

I was just wasting space anyway :)

“No, you were- “ she gestured to her computer screen before covering her eyes in shame of her tears, “You meant so much to your friends.”

She expected memorial posts, maybe not as many as there were, but she saw them coming. What she didn’t see coming, however, was that each and every one would be dearly heartfelt - not a single one was disingenuous or vague in the slightest. She also didn’t see herself crying by the end of her little search.

But there she was.

Something light floated into her lap. A tissue.

“Oh my fucking God,” (Y/n) choked up again, picking up the tissue with a small smile, “Stop, you’re a ghost, you’re supposed to be scary and making me leave, not helping me dry my tears…”

Another paper atop the slowly growing pile.

Was that a ghostphobic remark?

“Oh, I’m keeping that one,” she stood, sniffling as she wiped away her tears, and picked up the last paper, nodding to herself as she muttered, “Yep. This one’s going on the wall.”

~~

Nagito stopped whispering because people ran when he did. His voice was always hideous, he didn’t to be reminded. Besides, (Y/n) seemed to prefer the paper method - she hung up her favorites along the walls of her office and if a visitor teased her about it she would ignore them. It was admirable, how their grins and giggles rolled off her back like water droplets over a duck.

He wished he could be like that.

Could have been.

He still had trouble with that.

Has.

Nagito looks up from his spot at the kitchen table where (Y/n) was cooking for herself. She seemed so at-peace in this house, and he’s glad for that. He never liked living alone and everyone else seemed to hate having him there. Not that he blamed them much.

Even so, he much prefers (Y/n) over any past guest as his living counterpart of the house.

She even leaves chairs open for him at the table; he smiles widely at the thought, patting his thighs and kicking out his legs in his seat- just like now!

She’d pulled out the chair upon entering the kitchen before calling out for him that she’d be cooking. She even knew he liked watching her cook!

It was selfish of him to crave so much attention, but in the end, Nagito was already dead so… did it really matter when he indulged in his wants more than he should?

Divine punishment isn’t real and he likes being around her, so why should he bother hiding himself away in the attic?

(Y/n) moved around the house with little to no liveliness, it made him chuckle. Her shoulders drooped and footsteps heavy, it was fun. To feel like he wasn’t alone.

He hoped she felt the same. That he was a friend… or, undead companion?

He hoped she would stay and not move out.

He hoped they could be real friends one day… if it’s not too much to ask, that once she dies, she’ll meet him. The real him. 

That would be heaven.

[bumblebee-moreno]

Awkward meetings (GN!reader)

Request: "Awkward first meeting for all the boys" and "Awkward first meeting and You lost something very important to you and they’re helping you look for it with Frankie Morales" for @luminescentlily

(Boys included are: Din, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales, Max Phillips, Marcus P, and Marcus M.

Warnings: None?

A/N: Sorry this took so long to write. I had to leave a few boys out due to writer's block (Ezra, Tovar, and Zach Wellison), and I wanted to get this posted rather than continuing to stare at the screen in hopes of my brain miraculously functioning. To make up for my lack of inspiration at least a little bit, I added Marcus Moreno. Hope that's ok :)

Din Djarin

You feel a tug at your pant leg. Looking down, you are greeted by a pair of large watery eyes and big green ears. “Well hello there,” you smile, crouching down to be closer to the small child. “Where’s your family?”

He simply responds by lifting his arms towards you. You take that to mean he’d like to be lifted up. Scanning through over the crowded marketplace, you search for someone who the kid might belong to. You really have no idea what you’re looking for, having never seen anything like him, but you search nonetheless.

“Hey!” an angry voice calls out behind you. You whirl around, and before you know what’s happening, the child has been torn from your grasp and there’s a blaster to your head.

“I wasn’t going to hurt him I swear, I was just trying to find his family,” you blurt out, raising your hands in surrender.

The figure in front of you doesn’t respond at first, keeping his blaster pointed at you while he inspects the child for injury.

“Why did you have him?” The voice from under the helmet demands.

“I just found him by himself and I wanted to make sure he found his family,” you explain, voice shaking. “Are you his… Does he belong to you?”

“… yes.” He cautiously returns his blaster to its holster.

“I’m sorry,” you relax. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He’s just so… small. I didn’t want him to stay lost.”

The Mandalorian clutches the kid close to his chest as if he’s afraid they’ll be separated again. “Thank you.” He nods his head just enough for you to see the motion.

Javier Peña

“Shit, I’m going to be so fucking late,” you mutter to yourself, walking as fast as you can without sending the tall stack of papers in your arms flying.

On your way down the hall, you start going down your mental checklist.

‘Closed the window so the cat doesn’t escape? Check.’

‘Turned off the lights? Check.’

‘Locked the front door? Fuck.’

You stop in your tracks. How could you forget to lock your front door? You spin on your heel and run back towards your apartment, your one free hand switching between searching for your keys and adjusting the unstable tower balanced on your other arm.

In your haste to get your apartment locked so you can get to work on time, you fail to watch where you’re going.

Your body smacks into another. You fall backwards, losing your grip on the meticulously organised files. They scatter across the floor, completely losing the order you’d spent all night putting them in. The wind is knocked out of you for just long enough to hear the man you ran into grumping about how you should watch where you’re going.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m running late, I should’ve been paying more attention.” You pull yourself to your knees and start gathering your work off the floor. You’d normally stand and make sure the man you ran into is okay, but things at work are tense as it is, and being even later than you already are isn’t going to reflect well on you. Especially now that all of last night’s hard work needs to be done over.

You expect him to get up and walk past you. After his reaction to being practically tackled, you wouldn’t expect him to give you more than a second thought. But then a stack of papers lands on top of the one you’re already holding.

Your eyes shoot up to meet his. “You okay? You hit the ground kind of hard there,” Your neighbour asks.

You swallow thickly. “y-yeah, I’m fine,” you give a shaky smile. “How about you?”

“I’m all right, just running a bit late,” He offers a hasty smile before helping you to your feet. “I gotta get to work, but um, I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, momentarily forgetting how late you are.

Agent Whiskey

‘Ugh I really needed this day off,’ you type underneath the photo before pressing send.

You place your phone on the edge of the tub before relaxing back into the warm water.

It isn’t long before your phone buzzes. Your eyes widen in horror at the response:

‘I think you’ve got the wrong number, darlin’.’ It’s paired with a photo of a man you’ve never met.

He is kinda cute though. You’d never think the whole “unironically cowboy” thing could ever work but… No. No. You can’t be thinking that kind of stuff. You just texted a stranger a photo of you in the bath for fuck’s sakes, you can’t be attracted to him after that!

You frantically scroll up to examine the photo you sent, breathing a sigh of relief when you confirm that the photo you sent didn’t have anything too revealing in it; between the angle of the camera and the bubbles in your bath, nothing too embarrassing is visible.

‘Shit, I’m so sorry, that was meant for a friend ’

You pick up the shred of paper your best friend scribbled their new number on while you were at lunch with them yesterday, to figure out what happened.

‘not a problem, It’s a nice distraction from this god awful meeting I’m stuck in’

You frown. ‘You’re in a meeting and you’re texting a total stranger?’

You return your gaze to the phone number in your hand. “what in the fuck,” you say aloud to yourself. The second to last digit. It’s supposed to be a 4. Not a 9.

A shaky photo appears on your phone. It’s obviously taken from peeking just the camera of his phone over the edge of the table.

‘Damn, that looks like a serious meeting, shouldn’t you be paying attention?’ If you were texting at work, especially in a meeting, you’d have your ass handed to you unless someone was dying (and even then, it would depend on what kind of mood your boss is in that day). And this guy is just casually texting you, a stranger, during a meeting with people who look like they make more money weekly than what your whole car is worth.

‘I’m a bit more concerned that I don’t even know the name of the person who texted me such a lovely photo 😉’

‘It’s Y/N.’ you send. ‘And please delete that picture, that’s kinda private’ you ask, crossing your fingers that he respects that.

‘Already done. Mine’s Jack, since you obviously weren’t going to ask 🤠’

A soft smile appears on your face. Maybe it is kind of okay that you accidentally typed in the wrong number. Or… it will be after you (lovingly) cuss out your friend for having such bad handwriting.

Frankie Morales

“Shit.” You mutter to yourself, searching through your pockets. “shitshitshitshitshitshitshit” You swear you just had them. Or… maybe you left them on the counter back at the library?

You turn around to run back, rifling through your bag. You only make it a few steps before you’re knocked backwards to the ground.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you blurt the moment you catch your breath again. Barely sparing a glance towards the man you ran into, you start gathering your books.

“No, no. I’m sorry,” the man insists. “I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He helps to gather your books.

“You okay?” he finally asks.

You look up at him and freeze. He’s really cute. In the ‘I give the best hugs in the world’ kind of way.

“Yeah,” you respond breathlessly. “I just think I lost my car keys at the library, and I’m running late for lunch with a friend.” You mentally kick yourself. You just ran over the only attractive man you’ve seen since moving here, and then the first thing you do is overshare?

“Oh, did you want some help looking?” he immediately offers.

“I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugs. “I’ve got lunch plans I’m desperately trying to find an excuse to get out of, so you’re helping me, really.”

“Okay, um… sure,” you nod. “an extra set of eyes looking wouldn’t hurt.”

“Cool. I’m Frankie.”

You introduce yourself and shake his outstretched hand.

The two of you make your way back towards the library.

“so…” you break the uncomfortable silence. “Lousy lunch plans, huh?”

“…yeah,” Frankie falls silent for a moment. “A couple of guys I used to serve with invited me out and I didn’t really have an excuse to say no.”

“Don’t get along with them?”

“We used to be friends, but I’m kind of rethinking that lately.”

“Oh,” you debate asking more questions. But then again, he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to, right? “Did… did something happen?”

“Convinced me to go to South America a while back, which would’ve been fine, except we kind of got stuck there, and my wife was left alone with the baby.”

Your stomach dropped at this. You’re not even sure why; you just met the guy, you really have no reason to be disappointed he’s taken.

“Was she at least understanding?” You ask.

“huh?”

“Your wife.”

“Oh,” Frankie chew his lip for a moment. “no. When I got back, she was… possessive. Searching my phone, never letting me go out with friends, that kind of stuff. Separated a few months later.”

“Oh,” you try to ignore the fact that your heart skipped a beat; you can’t be excited—that’s insensitive. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be.” Frankie pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry, actually. I was helping you find your keys, and here I am ranting about my whole tragic backstory as if you actually cared.”

“I don’t mind.” You actually like listening to him. But you keep that to yourself.

“You shouldn’t have to listen to all that though—”

“Shit!” you interrupt him. “I’m such an idiot.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Frankie looks like he’s assuming the worst.

“…I didn’t lose my car keys. I walked here. And lunch with my friend is next week.” You chuckle bitterly. “I was so lost in my head I completely forgot she rescheduled. Sorry I wasted your time.”

“It’s okay,” Frankie laughs. You can’t help but smile at his lopsided dimple. “Hey, since you don’t have lunch plans and I want to get out of mine… Can I take you out? You can tell me your life’s story since you already know mine?”

“Sure,” you smile, though half of you is screaming to just leave the country to escape the embarrassment.

Max Phillips

“Ew, no.” you scrunch your nose.

“Hey, you’re the one that lost the bet.” Eva insists.

“I am not kissing a random stranger.” You sweep your gaze across the crowded café.

“It was your idea.” Eva sips her tea.

“That was because I thought I was going to win.” You cross your arms across your chest.

“You don’t get to opt out just because you’re a sore loser.”

“Yeah, but I don’t know them, what if they have a disease or something? Gross.” Your stomach turns at the idea.

“Okay, fine.” Eva sighs. And, for a fleeting moment, you have hope that she’s given in. “Kiss that guy then,” she points.

You turn. “Oh my god, Eva. No.”

“What? He doesn’t look like he has a disease,” Eva shrugs.

“He looks like a frat boy.”

“He’s cute though.” Eva leans in a not-at-all-subtle way to get a clearer view of him.

“I hate you.” You stand up. “And when I’m done, you’re buying me an entire bottle of vodka to wash my mouth with.”

“Yes!” Eva cheers triumphantly. A few people shoot her expressions of annoyance at the outburst.

You storm over to the man and pull him in by the collar. His lips barely brush against yours before you’re stomping back to your friend. Though, for a moment, you actually consider staying to talk to him. Eva was right, he definitely isn’t hard on the eyes.

You push the thought from your mind and collapse back into your seat, scowling at your friend.

“You’re literally the worst human being on the planet,” you huff.

“You’re just being dramatic,” Eva laughs.

“Am not.” Okay… maybe you are, but Eva can’t know that.

“Fine. We’ll go get you a drink once I’m back from the bathroom.” Eva skips off, still laughing about your reaction.

She’s barely out of sight before her seat is filled by the stranger you just kissed.

“Don’t flatter yourself, I lost a bet,” you don’t look up at him, instead choosing the glare at a stain on the wooden table.

“I figured as much.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “I also figured I have the right to at least know the name of the person who just kissed me.”

You reluctantly introduce yourself, still refusing to make eye contact with the man.

“I’m Max. And, if you want to apologise for kissing me without my consent,” he throws a napkin with a phone number scribbled in red sharpie onto the table in front of you, “You can call me.”

Marcus Pike

You hum quietly to yourself, unable to stop smiling. It’s been so long since you’ve gone on a real date. You turn on your shower, but instead of water coming from the showerhead, it starts leaking from the base of the hose.

That can’t be good. You turn off the water and fiddle with the shower. Maybe it just came loose.

You reach for the handle to try the water again. But before your hand can even touch the cool metal, the entire shower head disconnects from the wall and clatters to the shower floor.

Letting out an exasperated groan, you start gathering your clothes into a bag. You really don’t have time for this today. Crossing your fingers your neighbour is home, you head next door.

You’ve never actually talked to him, but you figure he’s probably a safer bet than the crazy old neighbour on your other side; the way he looks at you whenever you run into him gives you the jitters. And not the “he’s a creep” kind of feeling you get when anyone else stares for too long. More like the “he’s probably got a taxidermy cat in his living room and a human body in his closet” kind of feeling. So the neighbour you’ve never even introduced yourself to will have to do.

Your knock echoes through the quiet air. Shifting from foot to foot, you wait impatiently for an answer.

The door clicks open, leaving you face-to-face with your neighbour, who is way cuter up close than you expected him to be.

“…hi,” He greets you as if he’s startled by your presence.

“…hi…” you bite your lip and tear your gaze away from his face to examine your shoe. “I… Well, I live next door, and well—”

“I know,” he interrupts.

“I-What?”

“I’ve seen you… around. We get home from work at the same time, so…”

“Oh.” You chew on your lip for a moment. “Look, my shower broke, and I have a date I have to get to, and well…” you drift off. Are you really asking your irresistibly adorable neighbour who you’ve never met if you can use his shower?

“Oh. Okay, did you want to use mine then?” You pretend not to notice how pink his face has turned.

“Would you mind? I just—I’m running late and I don’t have time to figure out what’s wrong with mine before I leave and still have time to get ready to go.”

“Sure, Come on in,” He shuffles out of the way to allow you space to enter. “Down the hall, second door to the right.”

“Thank you so much,” you smile awkwardly. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

You walk as quickly as you can without breaking into a run to get to the bathroom, leaving Marcus frozen in the doorway.

This is not how he imagined meeting you. Not that he imagined that at all. And he definitely hadn’t spent hours trying to figure out how to ask you out. Because that would be weird.

And he just let you use his shower to go on a date with someone else.

Fuck.

Marcus Moreno

“Excuse me,” a voice speaks up from behind you, just barely audible over your music. You turn around to find that the voice belongs to a young girl.

“Hello,” you greet taking out your headphones.

“Do you see that guy over there?” she asks, pointing across the cluttered bookstore to a man struggling to balance a tower of books while skimming the shelves for more.

“The one in the glasses?” you confirm.

“That’s my dad,” the girl nods. “He thinks you’re cute, but he’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Oh,” you say, unsure whether you should be flattered or amused.

“He says it’s ‘cause he doesn’t want to weird you out,” she elaborates, “but I think he’s scared you won’t like him back.”

The man glances up, and, upon seeing his daughter talking to you, rushes over. He pauses only briefly when he trips over a box of books placed in the middle of the walkway.

“Oh, here he comes, act natural,” the girl whisper-yells just before her father arrives. “Oh, hey dad,” she greets him nonchalantly.

“Missy, what did we just talk about?” he scolds.

“I know, I know,” she rolls her eyes. “I shouldn’t go up to strangers and tell them my dad thinks they’re cute even when he totally does.”

Missy’s dad freezes, a look of horrified embarrassment washing over his face. “You… You told them what?”

“I’m going to shop some more,” she walks away, winking at you.

“Hey, you get back here, young lady,” he calls after her, struggling not to raise his voice above a murmur in the middle of the peaceful book shop. His daughter ignores him.

He groans under his breath. “I’m sorry about her,” he turns back to you.

“It’s okay,” you laugh. “I’m Y/N,”

“Marcus.” He looks down at his armful of books. “I’d uh… I’d offer a handshake but…”

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile. Marcus smiles back. You allow a moment of uncomfortable silence before speaking up again. “So… you think I’m cute?”

“What? No! I mean, Yes. I mean…” Marcus’ face scrunches up in embarrassment. “Yes? But not… not in a weird way. I wasn’t like… admiring you or anything. That’d be… weird.” Marcus hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry. I’ll just shut up now.”

You smile again at the flustered man in front of you. After a moment, you pull a pen from your sweatshirt pocket.

“Well, here’s my number,” you say, writing as clearly as you can across his forearm. “You can text me if you decide you do think I’m cute… In a weird way.”

You walk to the counter to pay for your books, sincerely hoping he decides to text.

---

Taglist:

@pascalisthepunkest @trashbin2 @anatanotegami @beesting77 @northernpunk @pumpkin-stars

[stitch1830]

Dreams

In my Kantoph feels (surprise surprise) so I decided to write something fluffy :)

......

Her back was turned to him, but spirits above, she was beautiful. Her long, black, billowing hair was everywhere and her skin was alabaster in the midday sunlight. He saw her take even breaths, a sign that she was still asleep. From this angle, her figure looked slimmer than it actually was, and the curve of her waist and hips were accentuated by the tighter than normal tee-shirt. He smirked to himself, because she looked so beautiful before she was even awake.

Suddenly, she turned in her sleep so she was laying on her back, and his eyes instantly darted to the tiny swell of her stomach. A routine and ritual he began ever since she told him the news. And while to most, her pregnancy wasn’t really noticeable to the public, it was all he could notice about her.

They were going to be a family. He was having a baby with Toph Beifong.

For so long he lived in this world alone, and he thought that was enough for him. Losing his family as a kid was hard, and he never wanted to feel that way ever again. And yet, when he met Toph and fell in love with her, it was all he could think about. Being with her, Kanto learned to accept the fear and worry of loss and embrace it. He could handle the horrible shit life threw at him if she was by his side. And he would protect her from everything bad in the world for as long as he lived and breathed on this earth. Well, as long as Toph let him. She was a tough and stubborn one; he doubted she really, truly needed any protection. Still, he wished to be her shield when the world fought against them.

Toph stirred again in her sleep, which prompted her t-shirt to ride up ever so slightly and expose a sliver of skin on her stomach. While he knew better than to disturb her, Kanto couldn’t help himself.

His fingers gently danced over the slope of her belly and he accidentally tickled her. Toph inhaled sharply at the sensation and grabbed his hand.

Kanto laughed once she realized who he was and what he was doing, but all she did was groan as she slowly woke up, all while still holding his hand.

“Why?” she whined as she stretched out the sleep in her limbs.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I was just—” Kanto paused for a second, then gently swiped his thumb over her belly. “I was just saying hi.”

She laughed. She laughed her hearty laugh, as if he just made the funniest joke on the planet, and he just knew that Toph was going to tease him.

“Saying hi??” Toph rolled to her side and patted his cheek. “Are you telling me I got into bed with a sap?”

Kanto grinned and pulled Toph close to him and jabbed back. “You’re one to talk. You let the sap knock you up.”

“This was your plan all along, I just know it.”

He gave a mockingly sinister laugh in response and pressed his nose into her cheek. “Perhaps it was. I’ve got you right where I want you, Chief!” Kanto kissed her right after and leaned on one of her forearms to look at Toph. And when he tucked her stray strands of hair behind her ear, he noticed an apprehensive expression on her face. It caused him to frown, and he asked, “What’s wrong?”

She bit her lip and paused for a moment before she answered him. “Is this what you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well.” Toph shifted in the bed slightly. “I just… It’s not like we planned this. So I understand if you’re—”

“Hey,” he interrupted. Kanto’s thumb gently brushed her cheek. “If I wanted to go, you would know. Literally, you’d catch me in the lie.”

Toph breathed out a laugh. “True.”

“But this,” he began, his hand drifting down to her belly. “This was all I ever wanted, and the fact that I’m starting a family with you… It beats my wildest dreams.”

Toph didn’t respond right away. She moved her hand on top of his that rested on her stomach, and thought for a moment.

At first, the idea that a family was what Kanto wanted in his dreams seemed odd. The man had the persona of someone that wanted success and riches and to create a name for himself. He had the tragic backstory of losing his parents as a child, what more could the world want than to have an esteemed, orphan hero? Apparently, a family, and the thought nearly made Toph scoff.

But then she remembered all the times he talked about his parents. About their kindness, about how wonderful they were, and she wished she met them. She remembered how elated his whole being would be whenever she told him that Kya and Izumi would be visiting them. She remembered how quiet and hopeful his voice would get whenever they talked about the future that she realized that a family really was his dream.

The combination of it all made that apparent, and already his immediate and extra care for Toph told her everything she needed to know about her partner.

Kanto wanted this, and he was here to stay.

“Toph?”

Her mind jumped back to focus, and she pointed a smirk at his face and gave his hand a light squeeze. “Sounds like we’re having a baby, Hotshot.”

Perhaps the news never really settled for Kanto when she first told him. Because when Toph said those words out loud again, he could barely think.

It was surreal. One moment it was just an idea. Being a father was an afterthought for Kanto, an “maybe someday” scenario. But now, the idea of becoming a parent suddenly became his reality, and…

It was the most amazing realization.

Toph must’ve been laughing at his accelerated heart rate, because he couldn’t form words. Not yet, at least. “Pretty crazy, huh?” she asked.

Kanto tucked another stray hair behind her ear. “In the greatest way possible.”

She grabbed his hand that settled on her cheek. “We’re really gonna be parents,” she whispered.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

“Well I’m not looking at anything, so.”

Kanto swiftly removed his hand from hers to tickle her side. “You’re the worst sometimes.”

“Oh shush, you love me for it.”

“I know,” he replied.

They laughed together, and Kanto’s gaze went to her eyes. They were so bright, so happy.

He never wanted the sparkle to go away.

[copperpieceharlot]

Bud I’m sorry to swing into your inbox uninvited like this but my soul is having an OOTS renaissance thanks to your content in the tag and did you say Leverage AU

haha holy SHIT this got Long. but yes. i’ve been. Thinking. (also literally Never feel like you have to apologize for sending me messages. i was Hoping someone would ask me about this. now i have an Excuse to share EVERYTHING ive written abt it :3)

Obviously, Roy is the leader/brains of the outfit. He grew up having some Strong Opinions abt what’s Legal versus what’s Right due to tragic backstory involving the death of his little brother which was definitely SOMEONE’S fault for negligence but since there technically wasn’t any illegal behavior, there were no consequences for it. Also he’s still angry at his dad bc he thinks his dad is also partly culpable (and also also just a dick). He’s the Moral Backbone of the team (alongside Durkon, more on that later) in basically the same way Nate was in og Leverage. He’s actually not the best at figuring out what people want (that’s Haley and, shockingly, occasionally Elan), but once he has that info, he is the absolute best at figuring out the ideal plan of attack to use in any given case.

Haley is still a thief. I mean she maps to Parker almost PERFECTLY. Her dad was a thief & a conman, her mom wasn’t but knew about it and mostly accepted it, but she died tragically in a mugging gone wrong or smth, which made Ian crank the paranoia WAY up and taught Haley to do the same in the name of “safety”. Let’s keep the “Ian is in Trouble and Haley needs money, Fast” which is why she signs on to the first job in the first place. She’s less acrobatic than Parker, tending towards finding (or making) weak spots in security, but she can still make a tumble check when she needs to.

Elan is the grifter who is somehow an Idiot but also not???? It baffles everyone. When he’s playing a part for a con, he’s FLAWLESS, but then the rest of the time he’s just. No Thoughts Head Empty. He probably gets lured in initially because he’s decided to try his hand at being part of a full team, rather than the two-man cons he’s been running that invariably end w his partner conning him as well and stealing half of his take. Also he likes the idea of being Crime Friends. He’s that tweet where it’s like, Roy: “after the heist is over, we split up and never communicate again” / Elan: [about to unveil his Crime Buddies Forever Friendship Quilt Puppets]: “never?”

Vaarsuvius is the hacker/gadget person. They have a Vaguely Snobby Yet Unidentifiable accent, dyed(?) purple hair (nobody has ever seen their roots) and nobody knows who they “really” are or where they came from, but they’re good at what they do so everyone just accepts the mystery. They probably got suckered into the team by their initial employer (who I’ll get to Eventually, lol) framing it as a challenge to their intellect, like, “oh, I see, you’re not smart enough to make this team work for you...” to which they were like Fucking Watch Me and also melted his computer. Anyways. They are joined (digitally) by their Intrepid Friend And Co-Conspirator (his words, not theirs), a fellow hacker known only as Blackwing, or, on certain forums, Blackwing_Bird. (In the first season, V only occasionally references him when saying they’re “calling in extra help” or smth for a particularly complex hack job. He starts showing up a little more in s2 and eventually by the start of s4 is a regular & established presence, but only appears as actions in a computer interface or output.) Elan is convinced he’s an AI, Belkar doesn’t think he actually exists, Haley pretends she doesn’t think he exists, and Durkon and Roy try not to think about it too hard, as long as B and V still get the job done.

Belkar is the hitter. He is on the team bc their initial employer got him out of jail for it. He doesn’t have a tragic backstory, he just likes doing violent crimes. As the series progresses, he grows some empathy & stuff, but really only for people who actually deserve it. Assholes still get decked. It’s all very touching. (Also he has dwarfism caused by achondroplasia. It doesn’t actually bother him and is useful in fights bc his opponents frequently have no fucking clue how to approach him, but he likes Pretending to take offense at stupid things just to see how far he can go with it.)

Aaaand last but not least, Durkon is the least involved member of the team. He’s actually a career criminal and Roy’s mentor, and wasn’t a member of the initial team that [redacted, I’ll tell you later, PROMISE] put together for a couple of reasons, the main one being that he’s Officially retired in order to spend more time with his family, which consists of his mom, his friend (not girlfriend) Hilgya, baby Kudzu, and a truly stunning number of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Roy frequently calls or visits him for advice and he Occasionally shows up to help out on local jobs, but generally he avoids doing crime if he can (as part of a deal with Hilgya, who is also a career criminal; basically, they’ve both cut back on the crime in order to provide a more stable home environment for Kudzu. But sometimes, you gotta do a little crime, and in those cases, Sigdi enjoys spending time w her grandson.)

NOW. THE BIG REVEAL YOU’VE BEEN WAITING FOR. Who got the team together in the first place?!

The answer: Lord Shojo (or whatever Normal Person Name you want to assign him). Now this is where it gets tricky: he had them do a thing that they thought was good, THEN they thought it was BAD, but then when they confronted him he revealed that it Appearing to be bad was actually a test of character and would they consider working as basically internal investigators for him? But then he had a heart attack, so, rip. But THEN it turned out that he’d left them a bunch of money anyway and they were all feeling kind of Inspired so they formed the Order of the Stick, LLC (which, no, i am not coming up with a new name, actually, because I just don’t care. someone else can come up w a justification for that name, tho, i’m sure it’s possible). Also Miko was there and was unhappy abt their actions, and also their general existence.

Moving on. Villains!

Redcloak is the Sterling replacement, because that DEEPLY amuses me.

Xykon is a season-long main villain, probably one that Redcloak finds himself working for but then “teams up with” (read: blackmails) the Order to bring him down bc even Redcloak finds Xykon distasteful. That’s season 3, let’s say.

Tarquin is another season villain, say season 2. Nale probably shows up pretty early in s1, actually, as another recurring antagonist like Sterling but uh. Less good at it. Anyways the s2 final 3 eps deal with them (accidentally) discovering that Tarquin runs some Evil Empire Company, then trying to outplay him and take him down. Idk if Nale still dies in this version tbh.

Tsukiko is a one-off s1 villain who returns briefly in s4 alongside Miko, who has gone well and truly off the rails.

Season 1 finale has to do w Roy finally getting Vengeance for his little brother.

The vampire squad is the s4 finale villain who do smth terrible to Durkon and then get the Mother Of All Revenge served up to them by the Order.

I envision the show as being 5 seasons (like og Leverage) but I’m not going to sketch out s5 because I think it should be based off whatever happens in the current story arc, possibly involving some legacy of the OotSquiggle.

Other stuff!

The Order of the Squiggle is a legendary criminal team from the 60s who stole a BUNCH of famous shit & then proceeded to legendarily implode. This has no bearing on the plot I’ve sketched out, I just think it’s fun.

The Sapphire Guard members should probably be reworked as FBI. I don’t care about most of them but I do think that Lien and O-Chul could be like, FBI agents who Choose to look the other way while the Order does their very-much-not-legal-but-still-fair Justice Crime, and maybe even help them out on occasion.

So, the Final season-by-season outline, based on everything I’ve written so far:

s1 e1: getting the team together, doing a con for Shojo, then at the end he dies and the gang is like “dang what now?" and intend to split up except then they Don’t.

mid-s1: Nale shows up and tries to trick the Order, but then gets beat like a drum.

late s1: Tsukiko is an underling of the Villain Of The Week, winds up in police custody. But She’ll Be Back.

s1 finale: Roy’s Vengeance: The Vengeaning. also we meet Redcloak as an antagonist.

s2 e1: the truth abt Haley’s father comes out

early s2: The Two Live Crews Job but it’s the Order vs the Linear Guild and the Linear Guild ARE all bad guys.

mid-s2: Redcloak returns. ugh.

late s2: the sapphire guard FBI makes its first appearance, hello O-Chul and Lien.

s2 pre-finale: once again they’re in conflict w Nale over smth, he spends the whole episodes making Cryptic Remarks, they basically beat him (like a drum!) but then the stinger at the end is that Tarquin reveals himself and Elan is like “Dad?!”, roll credits.

s2 finale, part 1: Elan is hanging out w Tarquin bc he’s DEEP in Denial, the Rest of the team tries to take Tarquin down, but it doesn’t work.

s2 finale, part 2: Elan finally gets a clue and they manage to beat Tarquin. still haven’t decided if Nale dies or not, but I’m leaning towards yes. also they rescue Haley’s dad.

s3 e1: fuck dude idk.

early s3: Redcloak shows up, AGAIN, everyone groans. he has blackmail on them, he wants them to take Xykon down.

mid s3: The Rashomon Job but it’s about stealing the Talisman of Dorukan and it turns out that Nale was there too (“oh!” Elan says. “I was wondering why I looked so weird in all those mirrors! But it wasn’t my reflection, it was Nale’s!” “Sweetie, that wasn’t Nale’s reflection,” says Haley. “Huh,” says Elan, “so the mirrors were broken?”, cue eye rolling from everyone else.), and the Successful thief was Hilgya, who’d nabbed it from the owner before it even went on display.

s3 finale: they beat Xykon, actually factually, because he deserves to get his ass Thoroughly kicked, even if only in AU form. Lien and O-Chul are there, so are some other less helpful FBI people. There’s a bit where O-Chul Exact Wordses his way out of telling his superiors about the Order’s less legal activities without technically lying. King shit.

s4 e1: doesn’t really matter. maybe smth to do w some legacy of Tarquin’s company to set up the drama w Malack & Durkon later.

early s4: Durkon gets SENT TO PRISON. Malack approaches the Order abt this because sure they have Different Ethics but they’re still Friends. (Roy is surprised and a little hurt that he’s never heard of Malack, but he ignores that in favor of Let’s Get Whatever Fuckers Did This To Our Friend.)

immediately after that: Miko and Tsukiko return as a Team, preventing the Order from working on the Durkon situation

mid s4: Redcloak makes another unexpected & unwelcome appearance but he’s maybe a little less of a dick? the Order collaborates with Malack & his Crime Buddies (hello, Vector Legion) to pull one over on him tho, because “less of a dick” does not mean “a pleasant or decent person”, and also he was mean abt Durkon being in jail, so he totally deserved it. he still gets whatever he wanted tho, just takes a blow to his pride. also prevents the Order from helping Durkon. they’re having a LOT of setbacks wonder why that could be, not to make sure the season fills its whole length or anything, no sirree

s4 finale: something something taking down the organization, headed by Hel (yes that’s her real name), which framed Durkon for their Big Crime. Durkon goes free and Extra Firmly retires, For Good, He Swears, but says he “met someone new” who might be an asset.

s5 e1: minrah joins the team! and the episode is set in like, somewhere really snowy. that’s all i got.

the rest of s5: don’t know, don’t care, it’s open-ended until the comic finishes up.

[fundeadasylum]

Was I the only one who felt the ending of Great Pretender was a bit...disappointing? I don’t even know if that’s the right word I’m looking for...

Spoilers for Great Pretender under the cut.

It kind of had the same problem BNA did where all of this other stuff had never been established and then it was really shoved into the ending. Putting aside how ridiculous it was, because con shows like this are ridiculous and that’s what makes them so fun.

But suddenly we were introduced to this new character we were supposed to care about but never had time to because we had, like, four or five episodes to get to the know them. On top of that we were also supposed to care about Laurent to the same capacity that we care about Edamura. But this wasn’t Laurent’s story, it was Edamura’s. But now it suddenly is Laurent’s storry and its been Laurent’s story this whole time and we were supposed to care about that?? But the show?? Never gave us any indication that we should? It never indicated that it was anyone’s story but Edamura’s. You can’t change the main character in the last half of the show, what the hell.

ALSO.

Edamura had a fantastic mental breakdown in the finale.

His character went through a great arc of development and he suffered a severe trauma that both his dad and Laurent put him through. That breakdown was deserved and visceral and impactful. It was a culmination of everything he’d been going through finally boiling over, of Edamura finally putting his foot down and having enough. It was really, really good.

But nope. It was fake. It was all an act. It was bullshit.

That was so disingenuous to his character. That was such bullshit. He had to deal with becoming a ch*ld traffick*r, he had to deal with the thought that he’d killed his friends, he had to deal with killing someone for the first time in his life. Sure, he turned into a person he probably despised, but after literally being betrayed and manipulated by the people he thought he could trust, why wouldn’t he stick with something he knew was consistent, something he had control in. He didn’t have anywhere else to go, as far as he knew, and honestly, the Director of the trafficking ring had been the person who was nicest to him in like literal years. I don’t blame him for staying with her.

And you want me to believe that he just. Is totally okay with working with Oz and Laurent after what they did to him!? Are you kidding me!? They emotionally abused and manipulated this kid, they ruined his life and forced him into a life of crime when he was trying his hardest to get out of it. Just so Laurent could get his petty fucking revenge. Which ends up NOT MATTERING AT ALL and negates THE ENTIRE POINT OF THE DAMN SHOW with that stupid post credit scene!

Speaking of things not mattering. We all knew the whole “you screw up, you get left behind” mantra was bunk, obviously. But they kept trying to hammer it in. In fact, it was the whole reason Dorothy was supposed to have died in the first place! Because they screwed up! Those were consequences for their actions! That was the lesson! This whole show, there’s been this running theme of Edamura messing things up but either they still manage to pull it off or someone works his mistake to their advantage or something. It really emphasized Edamura’s honest character (even if some of those actions were??? like giving James the original painting??? why???? did you do that????) and made the moment of him getting Cynthia and Aby killed all that more impactful. That was a huge blow for him, because that was the one time there was no coming back from that screw-up. He’d fucked up so bad that he got people killed. Which led to his drastic change and growth as a character. And it was really, really good! There needs to be consequences for character’s actions to matter or make an impact on the story! And it was obvious that Edamura still had some kindness in him. He genuinely seemed to care about the Director and had a mother-son bond with her. That was really important. He literally didn’t have anyone else!

Oh, but, no it was all an act. He didn’t react at all when he found out his friends were alive because he’s cool now. Oh yeah he’s totally fine with working with Laurent, uh huh, sure, okay. Fuck the hell off.

God, I could carry on about this for literal hours. I’m so disappointed.

TL;DR

- No one had time to care about Dorothy. We know nothing about her except she was a bubbly conartist who loved Laurent.

- Laurent was suddenly the main character the whole time, not Edamura, whose story we had actually been watching. That is not a “twist”, that is bad writing and bullshit.

- Edamura’s breakdown in the finale should have been real and was well deserved. Even if it had resulted in his death, it would have been very poignant.

- The post credit scene negates the point of the existence of the entire show and ruins any emotional impact whatsoever. There is no rewatch value--or any value at all--when you render the show pointless.

- There were no consequences. Ever. At all. The “good guys” always won and never suffered any losses. 

- Everyone’s just supposed to forgive Laurent and Oz because TTnTT Dorothy died because they messed up and ooohhh nnooo it’s so sad, look at my tragic backstory, feel bad for meeee wwwaahhhh

- Laurent and Oz emotionally abused and manipulated Edamura and everyone is just okay with that???? Hey, dipshits, there’s a con artist rule and it’s “YOU DON’T CON YOUR OWN TEAM”.

TL;DR 2.0 - Great Pretender is only good if you don’t watch the second season.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Whomp

Debut: Super Mario 64 

You know what I’ve been thinking about lately? Super Mario 64. Haven’t we all, really? Between all the recent datamines and general online discussion, I can’t help but wonder about Super Mario 64! 

Something I don’t think Mario 64 gets enough appreciation for, is being the birthplace of our beloved Whomps! At least, I certainly belove them. Don’t you? We’ve covered pretty much every “Thwomp” variant in the past, and sure, Whomps may be nowhere near the “obscure” side of enemies, but a splendid design is a good thing to appreciate anytime! 

Not only is this their debut, but they get a whole stage themed around them: the Whomp’s Fortress, if by “fortress” you mean a vague collection of scattered obstacles and platforms floating in the sky, like most 64 stages! That sure is a lot of... textures! My favorite part is the little paddling pool near the bottom.

And who could forget the Whomp in all their original polygonal glory? Clearly they just wanted to make an enemy who is just a rectangle with a texture on top, yet the design had all its charm even back then! The sunken eyes with glowing red pupils, the H-shaped mouth with the crooked teeth... it’s very cute, in an ugly way. And on the back, their weak spot is a crack with a bandage on top! Adorable!

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it- that’s why the Whomp has only really had a few subtle redesigns over the years! When they appeared in Mario 64 DS, they looked just a little bit nicer to look at. They were also in New Super Mario Bros. DS, using the same model- a 3D only enemy in a 2D game, how strange indeed! Their first appearance in a new mainline game in 10 whole years- and it probably just happened because they wanted to reuse assets.

Another redesign? Don’t mind if I do! The Whomp’s grand return to the third dimension happened in Mario Galaxy 2, really cementing them (hah) as a modern Mario classic. This time, they’re huge! And square-ish! And uh, their eyes aren’t wacky anymore. No longer having a band-aid, they instead have a big ground-pound symbol on their back now, which must be just awful, right? Can you imagine having a big logo emblazoned on your back which says “crush me with your butt here”?

This here is their artwork from Mario Party 9. It’s the same as the art from Galaxy 2, but their eyes are glowy now. I just thought this was funny.  But I’m getting ahead of myself here! Before I talk about Mario Party, I need to talk about...

Their monarch, the big bad Whomp King! He’s just... He’s just a big Whomp. He acts just like other Whomps, but he’s big and takes three hits. What’s totally memorable about this boss, though, is the villain monologue he gives before fighting! 

“It makes me so mad! We build your houses, your castles, we pave your roads, and still you walk all over us. Do you ever say thank you? No! Well, you're not going to wipe your feet on me. I think I'll crush you just for fun! Do you have a problem with that? Just try to pound me, wimp! Ha!” 

Uh oh! Looks like Mario’s world has a little problem with under-valuing essential workers! Good thing our world has nothing like that. Well, jokes aside, it’s a pretty cheeky nod at how the Whomps are made of stone- but one has to wonder much of this tragic backstory is serious! It must be a pretty nasty lot in life, huh? 

Don’t feel bad- in 64 DS and Mario Galaxy 2, the Whomp King got a snazzy new crown! At least someone appreciates him a bit!

Well, it wasn’t just him: Galaxy 2′s Throwback Galaxy was one big reimagining of Whomp’s Fortress, meaning this is probably the most Whomp-focused game released in the past decade. The music was remixed, the boss fight was revamped- all in all, a lovely throwback indeed!

And the Whomp has basically just... stuck around! You may have noticed the image at the top (from Super Mario Party) has a slightly different design, being a little more rectangular with smaller, thinner eyes and a more angular mouth! They definitely redesigned the Whomp again at some point, but I couldn’t tell you exactly when... Either way, I’m glad they’re here for good! 

Not that Whomps ever really went anywhere! In the years between Super Mario 64 and its remake, Whomps survived almost exclusively in Mario Party (and other spin-offs), functioning mainly as roadblocks that don’t allow the player to pass!

Which brings me to my final point- between their design and this function, the Whomp is most likely based on the mythological yōkai called... the Nurikabe! And since I’d love nothing more, I’ll now go into a long-winded tangent about what the Nurikabe is, and... Hey, wait!! Come back! It’ll be interesting, I swear! Don’t cut off the post! Hey-

Yeah, yeah. You’re all sick of my long-winded yōkai posts. But I’m happy you joined me here, even if it was out of pity. Let’s talk about the Nurikabe!

Look at this big guy! What a card! Nurikabe literally translates to plaster wall, and they take the form of a big invisible wall that blocks the way of travellers at night. Since they’re invisible, they naturally don’t have many illustrations- leave it to Shigeru Mizuki to depict them as a large, goofy-looking slab of stone! This Nurikabe joined the main cast of the GeGeGe no Kitaro manga, and thus quickly became a cornerstone (haha) of their popular depictions!

(To be fair, there does exist an old illustration of the Nurikabe as a strange, lumpy dog thing... but I’m not MUCH of a fan? I think a literal stone wall is so much more charming!)

Come on, look at this! What could be better? 

Ōkami has a rather lovely Nurikabe-looking guy! Though his design is splendid, if you’ve played Ōkami you likely remember him as “the extremely frustrating memory puzzle” or “the memory puzzle that is literally scientifically impossible for the human brain to solve”. Shame!

Yo-kai Watch has the Murikabe, a.k.a “Noway” in the English version! “Muri” means “no way”. So like, it’s a pun. Hoho.

Nioh’s Nurikabe is quite scary, but also rather cool! Don’t you think? I still know very little about Nioh, but whenever I look at its yōkai I think “Dang! That’s cool!”, and I’m right, and it is cool. 

The Super Sentai series has two whole Nurikabe monsters, each based on a different Nurikabe look! While the latter is quite cool, I’m in love with the former and its weird, grungy brick wall look! It’s like, the dictionary definition of Gnarly! Though I know very little about tokukatsu shows, I think its kind of fascinating how creative they can get with designing humanoid monsters suits!

You may be wondering: was this entire post just a thinly-veiled excuse for me to talk about the Nurikabe? And to that I say:

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmaybe....???