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90s-suplex · 3 months ago

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Hiii I just wanted to say I really loveeee your little blog since I'm deep in the trenches for stone cold Steve Austin lmao (down bad)

it's literally so sad to hardly come across good stories about him (involving a reader) so I decided to hit you up and shoot my shot Abt requesting a little story where he's still in his attitude era but is also quite comforting and actively being caring through either his words or actions towards the reader. I'm never opposed to a little smut but if you don't want to for any reason then I don't mind it being left out.

Ofc if you're unable to or unwilling to write something like this then I completely get it and respect you for it. (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

I also wanna apologize if I did this wrong since this is the first time I'm kinda interacting and actively being busy on Tumblr so it takes some getting used to haha

AN: based on this Steve Austin & Michael Cole segment because it lives in my mind rent free, I‘m sorry 🤐 (in case the hyperlink doesn‘t work, just search up ‚Stone Cold attacks Michael Cole‘ on youtube lmao)

I‘m not sure if you could classify this as ’actively taking care of reader’, I promise I tried writing something comforting & fluffy at first but since Austin is a smug lil‘ bastard this took a detour :3 I‘m sleepdeprived, so I hope this makes any sense lmao !

reader is genderneutral and not a wrestler :)

Summary: After witnessing Stone Cold Steve Austin‘s gradual decent into paranoia, you decide to talk some sense into him.

Tw: implied sexual references, mentions of wrestling typical violence

—————————————————————

“We're backstage with former hardcore champion Kurt Angle. Kurt, thank you for joining us for this quick interview," greeted Michael Cole the moment you turned on the TV.

A couple of minutes ago, Stone Cold and you had arrived at the arena. Being one of the top draws of the company, Austin had the luxury of a private dressing room and tonight you had decided to join him there instead of waiting for him at the hotel.

Since he wasn’t scheduled to appear on TV until later parts of the show on this particular day, the two of you showed up when TV tapings were already well underway. After dropping off your belongings, you sank on the couch and switched on the TV to find out what had happened so far, while Austin went into the bathroom to get ready.

“Last Monday Night on Raw is War, the hardcore championship was on the line in your match against RVD. Stone Cold Steve Austin interfered and cost you the title when he tossed you down from the stage onto the concrete floor 10 feet below.“

Kurt pressed his lips together into a tight line as he listened to Michael Cole rehash last Monday night‘s events.

“Tonight you will team with Chris Jericho to take on RVD and Stone Cold Steve Austin,“ Cole continued.

“How do you feel going up against a man like Austin, who has total disregard for your physical well-being?" Michael Cole implored, leaning closer.

“How do I feel?“ Kurt answered after snapping his head back, “I feel the same way about my tag team match tonight against Austin as I will at Unforgiven."

The camera slowly zoomed in on Kurt. There was a film of sweat covering his face. He shifted his attention away from Cole, now pointing his index finger directly at the camera before he spoke again.

"I feel like kicking Austin's ass. And after kicking his ass, I am gonna take his title. I will walk out Unforgiven as the new WWF champion."

You looked over your shoulder. Said championship belt laid on the opposite end of the couch. You leaned over, grabbed it and took a good look at it.

"What?" a muffled voice came from behind you.

Oh, this will be interesting, you thought to yourself and placed the belt on your lap. It rumbled briefly before Austin opened the bathroom door and stepped out.

"What did that sumbitch just say?" he asked you with his head cocked to the side. Austin had just finished changing into his black ring trunks, holding his shirt and jeans in his hand.

You reached for the TV remote on the desk before you and turned up the volume.

"Kurt wants to kick your ass. He said he's gonna take your title too, while he's at it," you replied.

Austin snorted in disapproval. He tossed his clothes onto a spare chair in the corner of the dressing room, shaking his head. "Good luck trying," he spat out.

With three quick strides, he stood next to you. "Can you believe the nerve of that guy? He's lucky this ain't a one-on-one match tonight."

He sank down onto the sofa. "Tonight he can hide behind his tag Team partner. But Kurt knows I can beat his ass any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.“

He paused for a moment and his eyes darkened, “Hell, I can beat both of their asses at the same time!“

You rolled your eyes. Over the last few months, Stone Cold had become increasingly more paranoid. Granted, he had always been quick-tempered and cocky. However, these tendencies had intensified drastically, reaching their peak the night he attacked Michael Cole on live TV, throwing ridiculous accusations at him and harassing him.

The fast-paced life, countless hours on the road and injuries had worn him out, there was no denying that. He was on edge most of the time these days both on and off camera, always eager to start arguments with whoever crossed his path, though he never took his irritations out on you.

On the outside he was closed off, only allowing a handful of people to get to know him on a deeper level. You found it quite amusing how surprised other people would be to find out how he behaved behind closed doors when he craved your soft skin. Whenever you decided to join him on the road traveling from city to city, he’d always be thankful as you were his sweet little escape.

Regardless, you had grown tired of his mood swings and wanted to talk some sense into him. You felt bad for Cole. But knowing how stubborn and bull-headed Stone Cold was, you knew this could prove difficult. Especially since you weren’t part of this business.

On the other hand, you weren‘t stupid - his abrasiveness was part of his appeal - both to the crowd and to you. You knew that and Austin did too.

Your fingers drew mindless circles on the championship belt on your lap as the next match had just started on your backstage TV.

“It‘s pretty, ain‘t it?“ he mused and pointed at the prized possession on your lap. His features had softened, revealing a slight smile.

You grazed over the ridges and nodded.

“What‘s it made out of?“ you asked. Your reflection stared back at you from the squeaky clean golden surface. It couldn‘t be made out of real gold you figured - at least not entirely. Still, it had to be somewhat valuable.

When he didn‘t reply you looked back at him. He was scratching his beard.

“Ha! How .. ironic,“ you teased him drawing out your words. “You wanna whip Kurt‘s ass for trying to take your title but you don‘t even know if it‘s worth a dime?“

He exhaled, “Well, I don‘t know the specifics. They don‘t matter anyway.“

Austin moved closer to you and pointed at the nameplate on the belt. It displayed Stone Cold Steve Austin in capital letters. “You see? It’s more about the ideal value than the material one.“

“You do know I need my title back later, right?“ he snickered while playfully nudging your knee.

His hand stayed there and the two of you were silent for a few moments.

He spoke again, “Technically, it‘s not worth much. Some kind of cheap alloy.“

Aha. So it‘s worth nothing after all.

“But every time I go out to the ring, I bust my ass trying to make it look like the most prestigious thing in the world,“ Austin explained while he let his hand slowly trail up your inner thigh.

Your skin prickled under his touch.

“And I‘d say I do a pretty good job at that,“ Austin squeezed your thigh lightly before he continued in a low tone, “What do ya think?“

He did. That‘s why you were curious about its actual worth in the first place. But you decided you’d rather mess with him a little bit.You returned his gaze. As he cocked his eyebrow awaiting your response, you simply shrugged half-heartedly.

“Kinda, I guess.“

Your answer earned you another chuckle from him. “Hard to impress, I see.“

With a final squeeze, he stood up to go fetch his training bag. You watched him leave to tape up his wrists in preparation for his upcoming match, but still felt his touch linger on you. As soon as his back was turned to you, you shifted on the couch and cleared your throat. Moments later, he returned to the couch along with his bag. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes as he pulled out his knee braces and put them on.

You sank deeper into the couch. Suddenly you felt incredibly stupid. You were chewing at the inside of your mouth, pondering on how to tackle this topic.

“Have you ever thought about taking it down a few notches?“ you began and crossed your arms over your chest.

For a second, Austin seemed genuinely confused.

“Your attitude, I mean. You’ve become so irritable over the last months,“ you paused. “And paranoid. Lashing out at people, stirring shit up...“

Now he seemed to understand what you were trying to get at.

After he finished adjusting his knee braces, he rubbed his face in a contemplative way.

“Maybe you should take a break?“ you suggested.

He immediately dismissed the idea. “If I do that, I might as well call it quits. You heard it yourself, Kurt is itching to take my spot, as are all the other guys. You call it paranoid, I call it being prepared.“

Austin leaned back and put his arms on the back of the couch, “And I‘d rather be prepared than surprised and stabbed in the back.“

“Okay, I get that. But don‘t you think you‘ve taken it a bit too far lately?“

Images of Austin‘s unfair attack on Michael Cole on live TV a couple of weeks ago flashed before you.

“Attacking staff? Really?“ you shot him a stern look. “Did you really have to stoop this low? You know Michael-“

You got interrupted by a big, hearty laugh from Austin.

“This is about Cole? You feel sorry for Cole?“ he chuckled.

You failed to recognize what was so funny about your remark.

“Don‘t worry, he can take it. Besides, he had it coming,“ he justified his actions. “He should know better than to run his mouth. He‘s been around long enough.“

When he noticed your dissatisfaction, he let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes. He was tired and he didn‘t want to start arguing with you.

“But if it makes you feel any better, I can go talk to him.“ He didn‘t flat out say ‘apologize‘, but this was a good start. Better than nothing.

Your face lit up and he regarded you with a certain spark in his eyes that you couldn‘t quite place.

Once again he inched closer towards you, “I don‘t get why you‘re getting worked up over this. As far as I am concerned, I‘ve always taken real good care of you. Ain‘t that right?“

He paid close attention to your reaction as he placed his hand on your thigh again. “Or would you say otherwise? I‘m open for critique.“

With his hand resting on your thigh, you knew what he was alluding to and you had to admit - he was right. He had always been more than … generous with his affection towards you. The heat between your legs returned and you cursed yourself for reacting that way right now.

“I saw you squirming earlier, “he added when you took too long to reply with a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

Great. And here you thought you were being discreet.

“This isn‘t about me, so don‘t try switching the topic.“

Austin raised his hand defensively, “Nobody‘s trying to switch the topic. I simply asked you a question. That‘s all.“

You exhaled through your nose and rolled your eyes with great exaggeration, making sure he saw it. “Yes, you‘re right,“ you disclosed in a flat tone.

„A bit more enthusiasm wouldn‘t hurt, you know. Should I be worried now?“

You stifled a laugh. You were supposed to be mad at him!

„Feeling insecure now?“ you said and patted the back of his hand.

Mere seconds after those words left your lips Stone Cold grabbed your waist and sat you sideways on his lap.

You were briefly taken aback by the way he picked you up as if you weighed nothing and felt your cheeks heat up. He reached out to tuck one hair strand behind your ear.

“Don‘t worry, I’m quite robust.“

You avoided his gaze. How long until he had to leave for his match? You turned your head to check out the time on the clock behind you. Immediately, he took advantage of you exposing your neck. Austin‘s lips brushed over the thin, sensitive skin on your neck and you held your breath.

“But I’m curious now. Go on, tell me. How do I make you feel?“

He grinned against your skin as his hand found his way under your shirt, slowly wandering up your back.

“Don‘t I make you feel good?“ he murmured before slightly biting at the nape of your neck, which had you biting back a moan.

“Lost your tongue now, huh?“

Oh well, now that you thought about it, you had successfully gotten your point across. Considering the fact that Austin would have to leave for his match soon, you might as well continue this conversation another time you decided.

He bit you again, waiting for an answer.

You pressed your legs together. “Y-Yes, you do..“

Shifting in his lap, you moved in to kiss him, but at the last moment, he pulled away.

You blinked at him with your lips still pursed. What?

He seemed to revel in your disappointment.

“Sorry,“ he gestured at the TV behind you. „Gotta get going.“

He maneuvered you back onto the couch and got up.

“What’s that sour face for, sweet-cheeks?“ he teased.

He lowered his tone. “I‘ll be back in 30 minutes. You think you can wait that long?“

You sat back and crossed your arms over your chest. Eventually, you nodded and handed him his title.

A few seconds later he was out the door.

#i apologize for any typos!!#tysm for the ask!!!!#stone cold steve austin #stone cold #steve austin #stone cold steve austin x reader #stone cold x reader #wwf x reader #90s wwf #world wrestling federation #help I hope the formatting is okay

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hiemaldesirae · 8 months ago

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Swap AU:

Vox and Alastor's breakup/Fight was huge--and messy as fuck. Quite simply, unlike what canon is hinting at where Valentino came to Vox's rescue and Alastor ruined one of his Antenna it didn't happen here--and for those 7 years, Alastor lived with the belief he'd killed his beloved Vox. Which is the main reason why Alastor took over the entertainment district--too keep anything of Vox's alive. So yeah, Alastor runs the Vees. TV isn't as powerful--Radio is in every house, but huge televisions are on every corner, running 24/7 informing sinners of news and such and you can rent a tv alongside videos. (And the big TVs show Valentino's porn for a few limited hours at night. Val is....not someone Alastor cares alot for, especially once it comes out Vox sent an SOS to him. Once Velvette and Nifty become friends however, Alastor can see what Vox saw in Velvette.)

Vox's deal with Lucifer is alot more freer then whatever canon Alastor has going on. Lucifer's only command is this: Help and Protect Charlie to the best of your abilities and I'll give you power. The more you help her the more power you'll get in return.

So Vox doesn't really want to free himself at the moment--why would he, when helping the Princess would get him ridiculous amounts of power? (And with this power, he could protect himself from Alastor? He'd never be afraid of dying a second time again.) And that's why he avoids radios, knowing if Alastor picks up his voice the deer will know he's up and alive.

Upon his return and realization that Overlords aren't solo acts anymore and that Alastor owns the Vees and the entertainment district, Vox gets in contact with a hidden Overlord that owes him big time--after all, Vox did stop him from betting his soul and well seeing how Valentino's life is absolute shit at the moment it's a good thing he did.

Husker is, of course grumpy as ever, but agrees to take on his overlord status again and Join Vox at the Hotel--both of them proclaiming themselves as allies and the Hotel and the area around it their territory, easily surrounding the land with hearts, spades and lightning bolts.

While the two overlords are decorating, Angel Dust lifts up his phone, and takes pictures of Vox, and sends them to Valentino.

Valentino prints them out, and drops them off at Alastor's desk, murmuring about how having Angel Dust at the hotel might be a good thing after all.

HI AGAIN SWAP NONNY!!! youre so cool marry me. I mean what wait who said that

oh my GODDDD fuck the idea that alastor thinks he fucking KILLED vox when the other disappeared... im gonna be SICK he thought he killed his beloved and because of it even though he hates modern technology and all the buzz and noise that comes along with it he decided to take control of the entertainment district because itw as the only thing he thought he had left of vox... do you think he kept like voxs old heads or something and like has a makeshift grave or something. and he hates val because vox went to ask him for help but he didnt come in time so he thinks its BOth their faults that vox is gone... oh my god. oh my fucking God........ im really gonna be sick nonny why would you do this to me THEYRE SO FUCKIGn .OWUAUGAHHHHH TEARS MY HAIR OUT

YEAHH husk and vox friendship here is so sweet to me. i like to think that vox and husk join in on the bonding activities at the hotel with charlie and hype her up sometimes. also since theres no niffty here would vox also act as a niffty type person? like he and husk share duties between them of being concierge/janitor/bartender.... imagining vox in a bartender suit and a maid outfit was probably not the best thing to do for my fragile mind tbh but. You know. You see my vision right nonny dont you (i am shaking you gently)

GET A JOB STAY AWAY FROM HIM!!!!!!!! is angel acting like double agent like here or something? or are he and val in less of an employee/abusive boss relationship here and more of a comrades-in-arms relationship here united under alastor's tyranny? whatever it is im excited to hear more :) please dont stop with this nonny the brainrots getting to me

#swap au #ran rambles #hazbin hotel #radiostatic #general asks

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evilwickedme · 2 years ago

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This wasn't asked for because nobody in their right mind would ask for this but this is a fic rec list of fics I cannot stop rereading

Just started yet another reread of Inimitable Verse by deniigiq and I fully plan on rereading their into the multiverse series which occasionally crosses over also - this is a Spider-Man/team red focused series, think comics canon infused early mcu-spidey since only homecoming had come out for a non substantial amount of time they were working on the series and the daredevil stuff is explicitly tv show AND comics. Also the multiverse series is how I got into Murderdock and therefore how I got into Spider Gwen

Unpretty's Sorrowful And Immaculate Hearts series which is just a loosely interconnected series of DC fics. My personal favorites are Empty Graves, in which Martha Kent keeps killing time travelers trying to kill baby! Clark; any of their clois fics but especially Third Wheel; and Anti-Social, which is a social media fic mostly about Tim and Bruce that made me cry laughing. Catch Bruce trying to get Walmart's employees to unionize. Also shout out to unpretty's only fic with Jason in it, it looks awesome but is tragically incomplete

This particular Reverse Robin AU which put in the work to reverse every single younger generation and is chef's kiss I LOVE this version of Tim he's wild

Both of Shoalsea's fics are in constant rotation for me I talk about Into The Brighter Night all the time in the tags of reblogs and stuff it truly lives in my head rent free. Anyway Tim gets kidnapped by aliens and the batfam have to watch as yj98 saves him and it's angsty and funny and such a good take on what could have been if the new 52 hadn't happened. And Compassion Builds No House is about Tim and Pru from Red Robin. Ugh they're both so good

Speaking of Clois (I did you've just forgotten this by now) brilliant (like a confession) by kathkin (penny-anna on the hellsite) is so fucking good I'm. Okay. Anyway it'll be listed as inspiration if/when I finally post my two person love triangle fic for them

I'm too anxious to catch up on this before it's done but jumble sale chic is hands down the best spideydevil fic series despite and because of the omegaverse

Make A Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is my favorite take on Jason, period, and has a lot of fantastic Damian stuff going on too. It's updating every few weeks still! Sometimes more often! I love you bacondoughnut it's me JustGail the person who will not stop commenting on your fic you're stuck with me forever

I lied above Rumspringa Murderdock is what got me into Murderdock but that series is second place. I found this one while scrolling through the tv show's mattfoggy tag, thinking I was safe

Speaking of Murderdock mattfoggy, The Lawyer All the Wickedness was written early on in spider-gwen's history and so diverges from canon really early in ways that I think are super interesting and creative

Oh also straight on 'til morning by merils (Tumblr url mamawasatesttube) does SUCH a great job unpacking Kon's trauma and building up healthy relationships around him including a budding timkon romance and yeah it makes me sad and happy at the same time

We're getting into poisonivory territory so just trust if you like the pairing and poisonivory is writing it you'll like it. Ok rapidfire

Like A Handprint On My Heart mattfoggy soulmate au with a twist

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? Damijon future fic/au. Jon came back from the future when both of them were 19. Demisexual!Damian at its best. Damian's terrified of being abandoned by Jon again and it made my heart hurt

I feel like I've already recommended every JayRoy fic by poisonivory and genuinely I do reread them all, sometimes in order of publication if I'm in a particular mood. Maybe the one I've read most though is I've Got the Feeling You're the Right Thing After All which is about Roy and Jason starting a fwb thing while Roy still harbors old feelings for Dick. Can't see anything going wrong here lmao

Mmm this post is long enough so I'll leave it at just superhero fic for now but I do in fact have the ability to do a whole post just for the Witcher or Leverage so I might do that. Anyway thanks for following me on yet another burst of insanity it will happen again

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41319kbex · 10 months ago

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Hell Hath No Fury

I apologize in advance for any feelings you have while reading this. I just…had angsty Beckett in my mind tonight. I felt the need to feel the special kind of hurt that only an emotionally tortured Beckett…or more accurately, the special kind of hurt that only an emotionally charged performance by Stana Katic can make me feel. I need to feel that kind of hurt that comes from the uncanny way she can somehow make Kate Beckett a 4D character, making me feel what she’s feeling through the TV screen. So…that’s mostly how this story happened.

This changes the ending of the season 3 finale so that Castle takes the bullet for her. I’m really, really sorry if this story makes you feel things. I only hope my words can do half of what Stana would do with the material.

I don’t own the show or the characters. But angsty Beckett has been in my mind all day, living rent free.

xxxxx

Staring out the window at the hospital, she couldn’t help the tears that slipped down her cheek as she replayed the events that brought her here. She’d been giving the eulogy at Montgomery’s funeral…and before she’d known what had happened, she’d been tackled to the ground as a shot rang out. When she’d heard it, she’d expected to feel the bullet tearing through her flesh, but all she felt was the weight of the man who had tackled her. The man who was her partner.

A strangled sob escaped her lips as she thought of Castle. Castle, who was so innocent in all of this, who was now here because of her. Her mind went back to the cemetery.

“Castle!” she murmured, realizing a second later that he’d been shot. “No!” she moved from underneath him and immediately rolled him onto his back. She saw the blood soaking through his clothes. “No! No, no, no…” she murmured, doing everything she could to stop the bleeding.

“Castle…Castle, don’t do this. Stay with me, ok?” she pleaded with him. “Stay with me…” she murmured as the tears slipped down her cheeks. He hadn’t responded, hadn’t moved. She could at least tell he was breathing…barely.

Another sob escaped her lips. There had been so much blood. Blood that was still on her skin, her clothes. She replayed the ambulance ride…the way her own heart had stopped when he flatlined and they had to shock him back. He’d been in surgery for the past 2 hours. A nurse had come out to let them know the surgery would still be another couple of hours. But Beckett hadn’t been able to leave, hadn’t been able to bring herself to even get cleaned up.

Lanie, Ryan and Esposito were in the waiting room, but all three of them had given her space. They were worried about Castle, of course; but they had never seen Beckett like this.

“One of us needs to go talk to her...convince her to at least get the blood off her,” Ryan said

quietly.

Esposito studied her for a moment before looking at his partner. “You want to volunteer to get your head bit off? Because I'm pretty sure that's what's going to happen the moment any of us go over there. I’m not telling her she needs to go anywhere.”

Lanie took a deep breath. “I’ll go talk to her, since neither one of you want to man up,” she shot them both a look. She approached her friend carefully, knowing this was going to be a tough conversation. She also knew the conversation would get a lot harder if someone came out of the operating room and told her Castle hadn’t made it. She knew her friend could take a lot, but she honestly wasn’t sure if that wouldn’t be the final thing to break her. “Hey, Kate…how are you holding up?” she asked, keeping her voice soft.

Beckett drew a ragged breath, a few fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she stated lowly, withdrawing deeper into herself.

“Honey, you are not fine,” Lanie stated simply, her tone still soft, being very gentle with her best friend.

Swallowing hard, Beckett finally turned her head away from the window to look at Lanie, the heartbreak evident all over her face.

“Oh honey,” she embraced her friend then, her heart breaking for the other woman.

Beckett couldn’t help it. The understanding embrace from her friend broke the dam and she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “I watched him die in that ambulance, Lanie,” she murmured. “I watched him die…and my heart stopped for a minute too when they almost didn’t get him back…” A sob escaped from her. “This was supposed to be me…he’s here because of me…”

Lanie gave her friend a few moments to get it all out so that she’d be able to listen. Only when Beckett had pulled back from the hug did Lanie release her. “Kate…” she started, trying to find the words to comfort her friend. She didn’t think now was exactly the best time to deal with the can of worms known as Beckett’s feelings for the writer that hadn’t just been opened but had pretty much exploded because of the events that had transpired, so she tried to find some kind of words to offer her some kind of comfort. Though she knew the only comfort that would make any kind of difference would be a doctor or nurse coming out to tell them that Castle was going to be fine. “Castle is going to make it through this,” she started.

“How do you know?”

“The fact that no one has come out with bad news is a good sign. No news is good news right

now.”

“God, Lanie…there was so much blood…” she breathed, a few more tears sliding down her cheeks.

The woman was quiet for a moment, trying to decide how to best go about the task of suggesting her friend leave long enough to get cleaned up. “Speaking of blood…how about we get you cleaned up, hmm?” she suggested. Seeing the look Beckett gave her at the suggestion did cause the medical examiner to pause before deciding to try another approach. “Kate…I’m not suggesting you leave. Just come with me…we’ll find a place to get you washed up…Ryan told me he has a clean set of sweats in his trunk. You can get the blood off you, change clothes…” she took a deep breath. “Castle’s mother and daughter are in the waiting room. I’m sure they’d love it if you joined them…but you need to not have his blood on you when you go over there,” she tried again.

Beckett swallowed hard at the mention of Martha and Alexis. “Oh God, Lanie…they must hate me right now…that bullet was meant for me…”

“They don’t hate you,” Lanie interrupted. “And stop going down that rabbit hole. It doesn’t matter who the bullet was meant for. Now come on.” She placed a gentle hand on Beckett’s elbow and when her friend didn’t push her away, she gave Ryan a nod to go get the extra clothes as she led her friend down the hallway to find a place to help her get cleaned up and changed.

xxxxx

The door to the bathroom had just closed and Beckett had moved to the sink to start washing her hands. That’s when the shock…realization…set in that it was Castle’s blood. She was covered in Castle’s blood. As a homicide detective, the sight of blood no longer phased her…she’d seen more than her fair share in the years on the job. But suddenly the knowledge the the blood covering her belonged to Castle was something she just could not process. “Oh God…God…Lanie, get it off…get it off…get it off…” she started to panic.

Lanie barely had time to get the door locked before her friend was freaking out. “Kate…hey…hey, get what off?” she tried to calm her down.

“The blood…his blood…” she breathed, completely falling apart then as her back slid down the wall and she sank to the floor. “His blood…I’m covered in his blood…Lanie…he can’t…he can’t…he has to be okay…” she was sobbing now, struggling to breathe through the pain in her own chest.

“Oh Kate…honey…just breathe…” she murmured, feeling completely helpless to help her friend. She started getting some paper towels and wetting them with cold water to start cleaning the dried blood off of her hands, hoping that washing the blood away would help at least some. She

had never seen her friend like this; even when she knew Beckett had issues with certain things, or when something bad had happened to her; she’d definitely had her share of needing to comfort her friend, like when Will had left her. But Lanie had never seen her break like this.

It took almost an hour for Lanie to get Beckett cleaned up; it had taken over 25 minutes for her to be able to get her friend breathing normally again after she’d completely fallen apart. And now, the woman who walked out of the bathroom in a set of NYPD sweats had managed to pull it together. It was still obvious she’d been crying…it wasn’t like she had makeup to be able to hide that, but she wasn’t going to break at the moment. At least as long as no one came out with any kind of bad news.

Slowly, cautiously, Beckett approached Martha. “Martha?” she kept her voice soft. Seeing the older woman stand, she wasn’t sure who embraced whom. “I am so, so sorry…” she apologized as she held the other woman tightly.

“It’s not your fault, Katherine…” Martha stated as she clung to the detective. Finally releasing the embrace, she knew all too well the look in the younger woman’s eyes. Fear. Love. Fear that the man she loved wasn’t going to come back to her. She’d seen those emotions mirrored in her son’s eyes as well regarding the woman in front of her. “No one blames you, dear.”

Beckett knew she needed to seek out Alexis. She knew better than anyone the pain Alexis was feeling right now. She’d been in her shoes when she’d been just a few years older than Alexis. Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, she was determined to be strong for the girl. Her need to be there for Alexis had currently pushed away the crushing weight of her mother’s case, how similar this was to what had happened to her mother. “Alexis…” she approached softly.

Alexis had adopted a stance at the hospital window, much the way Beckett had at the other end of the hallway before Lanie had come to talk to her. She didn’t say anything, didn’t even acknowledge Beckett’s presence; she simply stared out the window.

“Alexis…he’s going to be okay…” she started softly, echoing the words Lanie had told her not even a full hour earlier, and managing to make herself sound much more confident than she felt.

“How do you know that?” Alexis spun on the older woman then. “You can’t know that, because you’re not a doctor! You’re a cop…a cop who my dad has been following around…a cop who was supposed to keep my dad safe…” she started in on her.

Beckett said nothing, just let the girl vent. She knew more than anyone how she was feeling. The hurt, the fear. She’d prepared herself for this. “I know,” she stated simply once the girl was done. “I was supposed to protect him. He’s my partner…and I didn’t hold up my end. And I’m sorry,” she apologized. “But he’s going to be okay,” she insisted again. Why couldn’t she just believe those words yet, though?

“My dad was only there because of you.”

Those words cut through her like a dull knife. “I know.” She swallowed hard. “And that’s something I have to carry with me for the rest of my life.”

The detective’s words caused Alexis to soften slightly. She took in the older woman’s appearance; she’d been crying. She looked like she was trying to be strong, but Alexis was mature enough to see the worry in her eyes, the guilt that was there. She was mature enough to realize that blaming Detective Beckett for her father’s situation was not going to help anyone; if anything, it would make matters worse. This was hard for her too. It was then that she moved from the window and pulled Beckett into a bone-crushing hug, letting her tears of worry fall.

Beckett just held her tightly. Quite honestly, she wasn’t sure if the hug was more for her benefit or Alexis’s. But she knew the girl was feeling lost, scared, hurt…the emotions she’d felt the day a detective had informed her and her father of her mother’s death. Castle had once asked her to look out for Alexis if anything ever happened to him; that was a promise she was going to keep. After another few moments, Martha joined the two younger women, wrapping them both in her arms as well.

Lanie, Esposito and Ryan watched as Beckett insisted on remaining strong for Castle’s mother and daughter.

“She gonna be ok?” Esposito asked Lanie after a moment.

She was quiet for a moment before answering. “Not if he doesn’t make it,” she answered quietly.

It was at that moment a nurse came through the doors. “Who is here for Mr. Castle?” The entire group moved over to her in answer to the question. “The doctor will be on his way out momentarily to talk to you.”

Beckett felt her heart drop. That didn’t sound like good news. And a moment later when the doctor came through those doors, her heart dropped again for a different reason when she saw it was Josh. Her boyfriend. The boyfriend she hadn’t thought about, hadn’t even remembered was working today in this hospital. Of course he had to be the doctor. The only relief she felt was from the fact that she knew he was damn good at his job.

“Josh…is he okay?” she asked.

The doctor studied the group, including his girlfriend…the look on her face; he could tell by the way she looked, whatever was between her and her partner was more than she felt for him. “Mr. Castle is alive. He’s as stable as he can be at the moment. He’s not out of the woods yet, but

he’s being moved into the ICU and you’ll be able to see him soon.”

Kate’s eyes met those of her boyfriend and knew this had told him everything he’d needed to know, everything she’d been denying for months about Castle. He was more than her partner. “Thank you,” she breathed.

He nodded and after giving her a long look, headed back through the doors.

About half an hour later, a nurse came back out. “Mr. Castle is in a private room in the ICU. You can come back, but no more than three at a time.”

“You guys go ahead. We’ll wait right here,” Ryan told the three women who were most worried about him.

Beckett gave them a grateful look, and Ryan nodded his head with a small smile before the three woman who cared most about the man followed the nurse back to his room.

xxxxx

She sensed the relief in both Martha and Alexis as they saw Castle in his hospital bed, still sedated and hooked up to machines, but at least alive and with a steady heartbeat. It felt like a punch in the gut to see him there, knowing it was in her place. She watched as Alexis and Martha moved to his bedside, both moving chairs closer to him. It was only after an encouraging look from Martha that Beckett stepped closer to stand at the other side of his bed. She was silent as she studied him, her fingers absently running ever so lightly along the top of his hand. “See, Alexis…I told you that he was going to be fine,” she offered the girl a small smile…a smile that she had perfected in her line of work.

“Thank you, Detective Beckett,” Alexis told her softly.

“Kate. You can call me Kate.”

Alexis nodded and offered a smile that looked like it mirrored the one Beckett had given her. “Kate.”

After another couple of moments, Beckett took a deep breath. “I’m going to give you guys some privacy with him. Please text or call if you need anything…or if anything happens before I make it back,” she told them, giving each woman a gentle shoulder squeeze.

Alexis didn’t really notice, but Martha knew enough stories from her son to know what the detective was most likely going to do. She stood and pulled her into a hug. “Take care of yourself Katherine. He’s going to want to see you when he wakes up,” she said lowly, just loud enough for Beckett to hear.

“I will.” And with that, Kate headed out of the room, her jaw clenching as soon as she was through the doors of the ICU. The boys and Lanie saw the look in her eyes and the way she was walking; Beckett was back…and she was on a mission.

“Beckett! Hey!” Ryan called.

“Where are you going?” Esposito asked, though judging from the look on her face, he had an idea of what her general plan was.

When she met the eyes of her friends, they saw the look of determination. “I’m going to hunt down the son of a bitch who shot him. And then I’m putting him in the ground,” she said lowly, her voice carrying a dangerous edge that they had never really heard before. She didn’t even give them a chance to say anything as she strode out of the hospital with determined, angry strides. She wasn't going to just find the shooter and bring him to justice; she was going to kill him.

xxxxx

So I can leave it there…this can be a one shot. Or I can revisit this and add more. What do you guys think? Feedback is everything!

I also don't know how active Castle fans are anymore. I've been off this site for years...so...if anyone reads this at all, I'll be happy!

#castle #caskett #beckett #kate beckett #richard castle #rick castle #castle fanfiction #caskett fanfiction

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miraculouslbcnreactions · 10 months ago

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[Text: Tell me, what do you think of people actually liking the character development in season 4-5 and the show's treatment of mental health? [Redacted] thinks that and she's the mother of a teenager]

Re liking the show: I generally assume that they have poor taste and/or media literacy.

Re the mental health rep: I generally assume that they're incredibly privileged and/or ignorant.

I'm posting this as an image and not an ask response specifically because I will not participate in fandom drama or shaming. This blog exists specifically so that people can actively choose to engage in my content and so that I can post critical thoughts without dragging their source into some petty fight. So I'm not going to talk about the named individual. Instead, I'll replace them with the show's head writer and talk about him in a similar context.*

He's pretty famously denied that Chloe suffered any abuse, ignoring her obvious neglect, which came from both parents, just in different forms. When you pair that with how the show handles people like Gabe and Jagged Stone, we see a clear pattern of the show ignoring the devastating effects that abandonment and neglect can have on a person, especially if they're a child.

Now you could look at that and say, "The head writer condones abuse! He's a monster!" But I prefer to go the more likely route and assume that he's a privileged middle-class cis white man who has never had to deal with those issues or support someone who has, so he has no idea how to handle them properly or that they even need to be properly handled. There's every chance that he's a loving, kind man and a fantastic father who just happens to not be very good at writing a complex topic that he clearly has no understanding of or desire to learn about. I apply similar logic to fans who share his opinions. Never attribute to malice what can be explained by incompetence or ignorance.

And all of the above is assuming that we're talking about someone who thinks that the show is objectively good or that the mental health rep is good, which are big assumptions. It's fully possible to enjoy a piece of media that you know is objectively bad or even "problematic" in some way.

Personal confession time: is Loonatics Unleashed an objectively terrible show that you should never, ever watch? Absolutely. 100%. Are Rev Runner and Tech E. Coyote two of my favorite characters who will live rent free in my head until the day I die? Yep! I pulled up a YouTube highlight real as I was writing this and those dorks still make me smile even though the show is terrible on multiple levels and I know that I'm not alone in that sentiment. Those two clicked with a lot of people for some reason.

A piece of fiction need not be good for you to love it and you don't need to justify your love for a piece of fiction if you're not claiming that it's good. Similarly, people hating that piece of fiction or pointing out flaws in it is not a reflection on you in any way shape or form. You can even agree with their criticism and still love the piece of fiction. This approach to media - loving a thing in spite of its flaws - is normal and healthy and I'd really love to see it make a comeback in younger fandoms.

Like, I cannot emphasize this enough, most fandoms consider it perfectly normal to have lots of fans who are critical of the source or who have even lost interest in the source for one reason or another, but they still like some element of the source enough to want to create/consume fan content for it. These more critical fans arguably make some of the best fan content because looking at canon and saying "That's nice, let me show you how I'd do it" often leads to some of the most complex stories that you'll see in fandom spaces. Stories that can often blow canon out of the water for TV shows and movies since fanfic isn't limited by budgets or studio policies or marketability concerns. Fans who think that the source is perfect tend to just write fluff or romcom type fics, which is not a dig! I love bother of those genres! But woman does not live on fluff alone.

Obviously there's some complexity here because who decides if a show is bad? Saying "it's okay that you like a terrible thing" can certainly sound like an insult and prompt a feeling of needing to defend the thing, which is why I don't fight with fans who like the show. There's really no need to convince them that the thing they like is bad. Do I think it is? Yes. Does it matter if they disagree? No, not really. At worst, they create stories with similar issues and, well, they're not the only ones and fighting with them isn't going to stop them. You're much better off focusing on creating your own good media and trying to get that popular. Heck, even if you made the head writer see all of Miracuous' flaws, it wouldn't change anything. The show is already made.

So, yeah, I don't really assume anything bad about people who think that miraculous is good. I know lots of wonderful people who have terrible taste in media and I'm still friends with them. I just don't take recommendations from them.

It's important to remember that, when you're online in a fandom space, a person is condensed down to a very tiny snapshot of who they are and judging a person solely off of their thoughts regarding a poorly written kids show is a dangerous path to tread. Like, looking at this blog, you might assume that I spend all of my time thinking about miraculous and obsessing over its flaws, which is very much not the case. I actually have this blog specifically so that I don't obsess over miraculous' flaws because I've found that, when something is bothering me, writing it down or talking to someone about it is the best way to stop thinking about it. Even then, most of my posts are reblogs of stuff I come across while browsing my tumblr feed, which is not solely miraculous content. I mostly interact with the show by creating non-salty fanfic that I honestly enjoy writing and find to be a relaxing, positive outlet.

It's human nature to judge and it's totally normal to think that a person's an idiot because of something they post online, but be careful to not lean into those thoughts too hard. At the end of the day, Miraculous is just a stupid kids show that will fade from the popular consciousness a few years after it stops airing. If it and/or the fandom are negatively affecting your mental health, then it's okay to step away for a while or use the block button. It really is your best friend. I enjoy being critical about Miraculous specifically because it's not that important. While I do think that kids deserve better media, I don't think Miraculous is some terrible evil harming the youth. I'm not horrified when a kid watches it, it's just not a show that I'd encourage them to watch and, if the kids was close to me, we'd spend a lot of time talking about the bad things that the show showcases from time to time. There are lots of episodes that are fine and I can think of way worse kids shows. Shows that tell their horrifying morals really well, making a kid far more likely to pick up on them and internalize them.

*Note that I only feel comfortable talking about the head writer like this because he's a public figure with an active social media presence AND because I'm not @ing him. If he was a private person or if he was not a professional creator, then I would not talk about him like this and even in that context I try to avoid it whenever I can. You can think that he's a terrible writer, but he's still a human being and, as far as I'm aware, nothing he's done deserves people harassing him.

I absolutely understand how devastating it can be to see a story you love get ruined by the creative team. The first time that happened to me, the life lesson I came away with was, "I will no longer put my happiness in the hands of another creator. I will enjoy stories, but I will temper my expectations and remember that they're just another human being and it's completely possible that their vision for this seemingly awesome story may end up being terrible."

#ml writing salt #ml writing critical #ml fandom salt #fandom salt #ask response

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 10 months ago

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Hell Hath No Fury

I don’t own the show or the characters. But angsty Beckett has been in my mind all day, living rent free.

xxxxx

A strangled sob escaped her lips as she thought of Castle. Castle, who was so innocent in all of this, who was now here because of her. Her mind went back to the cemetery.

Lanie, Ryan and Esposito were in the waiting room, but all three of them had given her space. They were worried about Castle, of course; but they had never seen Beckett like this.

“One of us needs to go talk to her...convince her to at least get the blood off her,” Ryan said

quietly.

Beckett drew a ragged breath, a few fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she stated lowly, withdrawing deeper into herself.

“Honey, you are not fine,” Lanie stated simply, her tone still soft, being very gentle with her best friend.

Swallowing hard, Beckett finally turned her head away from the window to look at Lanie, the heartbreak evident all over her face.

“Oh honey,” she embraced her friend then, her heart breaking for the other woman.

“How do you know?”

“The fact that no one has come out with bad news is a good sign. No news is good news right

now.”

“God, Lanie…there was so much blood…” she breathed, a few more tears sliding down her cheeks.

Beckett swallowed hard at the mention of Martha and Alexis. “Oh God, Lanie…they must hate me right now…that bullet was meant for me…”

xxxxx

Lanie barely had time to get the door locked before her friend was freaking out. “Kate…hey…hey, get what off?” she tried to calm her down.

“Alexis…he’s going to be okay…” she started softly, echoing the words Lanie had told her not even a full hour earlier, and managing to make herself sound much more confident than she felt.

“My dad was only there because of you.”

Those words cut through her like a dull knife. “I know.” She swallowed hard. “And that’s something I have to carry with me for the rest of my life.”

Lanie, Esposito and Ryan watched as Beckett insisted on remaining strong for Castle’s mother and daughter.

“She gonna be ok?” Esposito asked Lanie after a moment.

She was quiet for a moment before answering. “Not if he doesn’t make it,” she answered quietly.

“Josh…is he okay?” she asked.

he’s being moved into the ICU and you’ll be able to see him soon.”

He nodded and after giving her a long look, headed back through the doors.

About half an hour later, a nurse came back out. “Mr. Castle is in a private room in the ICU. You can come back, but no more than three at a time.”

“You guys go ahead. We’ll wait right here,” Ryan told the three women who were most worried about him.

Beckett gave them a grateful look, and Ryan nodded his head with a small smile before the three woman who cared most about the man followed the nurse back to his room.

xxxxx

“Thank you, Detective Beckett,” Alexis told her softly.

“Kate. You can call me Kate.”

Alexis nodded and offered a smile that looked like it mirrored the one Beckett had given her. “Kate.”

“Beckett! Hey!” Ryan called.

“Where are you going?” Esposito asked, though judging from the look on her face, he had an idea of what her general plan was.

xxxxx

So I can leave it there…this can be a one shot. Or I can revisit this and add more. What do you guys think? Feedback is everything!

I'm also not sure how active the Castle fandom is still here...I haven't been on this site in years. And now I've fallen back into the Castle rabbit hole and I couldn't help myself. Hope you like this.

#castle #caskett #kate beckett #richard castle #rick castle #castle fanfiction #caskett fanfiction

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rinamars · 1 year ago

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Please, can u recommend another piece of media (anime/movie/manga/manhwa/TV show) that makes you go "omgg- this is so Erwin coded"? 🙏 Thank you! ♥️

ohhh ahdhdhdjdj ok so i have three characters in mind atm

the first one is from a film i've recently rewatched with my mom, my big fat greek wedding. the male protagonist & love interest, ian, is basically school caste erwin in my eyes. he's a high school teacher (and i'm pretty sure he teaches history, too!!), he's big tall and blonde, and he's the perfect mixture of goofy and dreamy. i don't like the actor that much physically, but i swear the first thing that came to mind the other night was "wow he's so erwin coded". i couldn't say that to my mom, sadly

the second character i have in mind is himuro-kun from the ice guy and his cool female colleague, which is an anime that came out earlier this year. this guy has a massive crush on his coworker and, since he's the descendant of a snow spirit (?), he makes it snow and conjures tiny snowmen out of nowhere whenever he's around her because he's flustered!!!! and he seems all cool calm and collected but he's a nervous wreck inside because he likes her!!!! he's a dork and i love him

third and final character i'm thinking of atm (i'll reblog this post if i think of more) is woo-yeo from the manhwa-turned-kdrama my roommate is a gumiho, and i have @riewritten to thank for this because she's the one who made me realize this. woo-yeo is a 999 year old fox spirit thing. he looks young and handsome but he's an OLD MAN. he dresses like an old man according to the protagonist, and has old man tastes, so much so that she even calls him "sir" (not in a kinky way, but because he's OLD). but he's so dreamy. and i love thinking that erwin is a bit of an old man inside

(i'm just mentioning the characters that remind me of soft erwin because he lives rent free in my head, i apologize)

#thank you for this lovely question pls ask me more i love it #msg #erwin smith

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terubakudan · 1 year ago

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Sup. xD

No, but really. Hi guys! Long time no see.

I see that Tumblr's changed, and believe me I'm re-learning how to use it. xD

So, um...usual life update I guess, you don't have to read this but I have to get this out of my system or I'll go crazy xD.

Honestly I really miss blogging and talking about fandoms, hobbies and whatnot. It's literally been over a year since I last blogged and there's a reason for that: literally no work-life balance at my old job. I say 'old' because I finally quit this year!! I'm really glad to be out of that soul-sucking hellhole xD For reference, I used to work at one of the Big Four accounting firms as an auditor, think hard before going in haha. The pay may be good...but at what cost?

For a while even when I left I couldn't stop thinking about work, I would always worry that there's something that hasn't been finished yet, and believe me at that kind of job the workload is endless Orz. On the plus side I did get experience, but I'm waaayyyy more glad to be out than in, believe me guys, work-life balance is something that everyone should have, I don't know what it's like in other countries (do feel free to share, I'm quite curious) but there's a reason so many foreign professionals choose not to work in Taiwan:

The pay is low. Especially compared to Japan and South Korea. As of now minimum wage is NTD 26,400 (USD 836) per month, and NTD 176 (USD) per hour, the thing is it's seriously not keeping up with inflation here. Bento used to cost NTD 60~70 when I was in college! Now it's NTD 90~100 on average.

Hours are long. Not all jobs are like this, but you are expected to do overtime without additional pay in most.

A lot of bosses here just...don't know leadership skills? Like they know how to work, but are awful at teaching and leading subordinates. Both Mom and I complain that the EQ of some locals is quite low ^^" No seriously, you do something well and somehow it's always your fault xD People here can be too materialistic sometimes and don't spend enough time on enriching themselves and others. It's really the fault of long work hours as well as the cram school culture here.

So yeah..welp.

My new job (accounting staff at a SME) may be lower pay but at least I get to come home earlier now, which honestly is a relief. Also weekends off. You'd be extremely lucky to get a weekend off at the old job xD

In a way, my Dad spoiled our family xD Because he was too nice we got really used to this rosy portrait of Taiwan and the locals xD But yeah, Mom, Bro and I will find ways to carry on.

Well enough about that! I hope everyone's getting on well with their lives, even when it's tough, there are always ways to carry on. ╰(*´︶`*)╯

I haven't been 100% offline actually xD Just a lot of lurking xD

Some things I've been up to:

You are now looking at a JoJo's Bizarre Adventure fan xD JJBA lives in my head rent-free and I don't regret it at all, I want to slap past me for not following JoJo sooner, especially as an avid fan of music and fashion. My brother’s pestering of me to watch it finally came to. I don't read manga, have watched Parts 1~6 (and made my Mom watch it with me ha xD she practically got almost all the music references xD) and am excited for a Part 7 anime!! Which could take forever sadly :( Along with Arcane Season 2, it’s been a while since there’s a show that I really look forward to watching, what with the current state of TV and movies nowadays. Too much on content and not enough on quality or well, basic storytelling even.

But I'm sad that I can't go to JOJO WORLD. QQ I really have a knack for getting into things too late.

My personal ranking: 2>5>3>4>1>6. This is just personal favoritism xD Each part has their own strengths and weaknesses and the writing in later parts is better as Araki has really matured as a mangaka and writer. But Part 2 is amazing. Period. I will not have it any other way. Special mention goes to this guy for simultaneously stealing my heart and *ahem* crushing (sorry) it, I have only cried for him:

He and Joseph should kiss.

2. I got into gaming again! Thank Steam really for letting lots of players save money on not having to buy separate consoles xD I got my brother to help me invest in a good gaming laptop, and it's just lovely. Some of my favorite games:

METAL GEAR RISING: REVENGEANCE

I got to experience Metal Gear Rising: Revengeance and my god it's a MASTERPIECE. The OST also is just *chef's kiss*. The composer really did a great job with the music. The animation that plays every time Raiden uses Zandatsu is an absolute joy to watch xD My brother introduced this game to me through the memes, and he immediately regretted it when it was all I could talk about for a while xD But god slicing a Metal Gear in two while Rules of Nature plays in the background, how can you not squee?! xD

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Mind you this is the tutorial boss xD I highly recommend this game, pure unadulterated adrenaline rush xD It’s so over-the-top and unapologetic, and just damn cool.

SEKIRO: SHADOWS DIE TWICE

I also beat Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice. And as of now, it's still the best sense of achievement that I got from a game, it's the most difficult game I've ever played and let me tell you guys I'm good friends with the death screen xD

The adrenaline rush I got from beating Genichiro for the first time (and throwing the lightning back at him!!) as well as beating Sword Saint Isshin was unreal. At some point, the gameplay for me clicked, and it was immensely satisfying being able to perfectly parry the enemy's attacks. The clanging of swords is a sound that I absolutely love.

Though fuck Demon of Hatred xD. Joke I love the Sculptor character who I affectionately call 'Sculptor Dad' but come on you had to unlearn the game's combat system just to beat him. I agree that he's more of a Dark Souls boss than a Sekiro one.

Well deserving of 2019 Game of the Year 👏

DEVIL MAY CRY V

So you can probably see by now that I love action and hack and slash games xD I used to play Devil May Cry 3 when I was a teenager and even watched the Madhouse anime, the over-the-top-ness and Dante's quips won me over. Dante’s even the whole reason why I tried strawberries and now I love them xD So! It was only natural that I wanted to play DMCV, and I wasn't disappointed.

There’s a total of 4 characters you can play as, each with their own SSStylish gameplay, and I had lots of fun just sending the demons into the air while the extremely enthusiastic cast cheers me on xD

Also V is that Edgy Guy who’s a hit with the ladies xD My brother hates him but I adore him. He even said that I’m a sucker for the “starving artist” types xD Well…

HOW CAN I NOT BE A SUCKER QQ That smirk, dear god.

HADES

youtube

0:34 sold me haha 😂

You play as this really sexy Prince of Hell with daddy issues.

While Sekiro would frustrate me sometimes with constantly dying, every time I died in Hades it encouraged me to keep on playing, as whenever you die it actually advances the plot and unlocks new dialogue with the various characters, who are based on Greek mythology. If anything the game encourages you to die xD There was a time I was so determined to make it to the surface and when I did it was the next morning already xD

The art by Jen Zee is also just extremely gorgeous, and the OST by Darren Korb (who also voices Zagreus) is amazing. I also recommend Supergiant’s other games Bastion, Transistor, and Pyre. They are one of the best indie game developers out there. They put a lot of heart into their games, which is something a lot of AAA games lack nowadays.

Also I headcanon that Zagreus listens to Coldrain while hacking and slashing through hell. It just seems like a band he would listen to xD

And not to forget, but thank Supergiant for giving the option to romance this really sexy grim reaper xD I'm a sucker for the 'tsundere' types too, and let me tell you every bottle of gifted nectar and ambrosia was worth it. When he finally realized his feelings weren't unnecessary I squeeed.

DISCO ELYSIUM

Last but not least, an underrated gem.

Disco Elysium is one of those games that shouldn’t exist, and boy am I glad that it does.

It’s a choose your adventure game in which you play as a detective trying to solve a murder case with your partner, all the while getting to know the seaside town of Martinaise. Which once you get to explore it, isn't really that big and yet somehow feels huge, there's a whole fictional history that was created for it and for places outside Martinaise even, the worldbuilding for this game is insane. It also seems very real and similar to our own and yet it's all fictional, I really admire that level of detail.

I actually first heard of this game through an artist I follow on Tumblr, who draws True Detective and Disco Elysium fanart. I adore the first season of True Detective and never knew that MartyxRust does things to me. Read reviews about this so-called "True Detective/The Wire-inspired" game and was sold.

Also the developers really hit it out of the park with Kim Kitsuragi, god I love Kim 😭 One of the best companions that you can have out there. Whenever I felt bad and by extension made my player character feel bad (the game is choice-based, there's even an achievement called 'World's Sorriest Cop' xD), Kim would always be helpful and encouraging and god just the sweetest.

The humor in the game is also something I just found so charming, and the voice acting is perfect for every character, I find myself having fun mimicking the voices a lot. I kept pestering my brother to play this game, and his Evrart Claire impression is so spot-on, I myself like to impersonate the Fritte clerk with my 'm'kays' xD

Oh, and you can start a nightclub at a church. And believe me when you experience this scene in the game, it is glorious.

3. I had one of those 'happiest days in your life' moments: I went to see the GazettE's MASS final concert in Japan!! And the crazy thing is I specifically flew in just to see them, I was there in Japan for the concert and went home the next day. At the time I had booked my airline ticket thinking I would still be clocking in to my old job on Monday and well, I never thought I would quit xD

And silly me never thought that even Japanese trains could be late (the local trains at least), I was almost late to the 05:30 PM assembly time xD

By the time I got to the Budokan I was confused by the lack of banners and signs at the entrance at first, then I saw this procession of people in black heading to MASS (ha) and just knew. xD

And I thought I was the only one silly enough to fly to another country for a concert, then I heard Mandarin, English, Spanish in the crowd and thought: 'ah, music really brings people together'. It was beautiful.

Seeing the bouquet with the 'From overseas fans (Overseas fans より)' made me all warm and fuzzy inside.

Too shy to take my own picture xD But glad to know I'm not the only one extremely happy to be there.

I tried to take a picture of this Uruha banner and it just kept flapping in the wind like Uruha during the heavier songs, so I just gave up xD

The setlist for that night, when they played Miseinen (未成年) I think I started tearing up QQ Frankly the whole night was so surreal I couldn't stop thinking about what I experienced on my way back to the hotel. And I stayed at a capsule hotel for the first time! Specifically this one.

The song they played after the concert was an instrumental version of Knockin' On Heaven's Door, and it was absolutely lovely. They even teased a trailer for a new release next year(!!) and a trailer for their Christmas concert A HYMN OF THE CRUCIFIXION ver.2

youtube

Their trailers are needless to say, cinematic. I'm sad that they removed all their older trailers off YouTube though :(

As of writing this, there are still stuff I want to share and fangirl about, but unfortunately I have to wake up to a job tomorrow xD If I could, I'd spend my days just doing what I love and not having to deal with stupidity at work. I just want to say I'm glad that there are things in life to enjoy and make going through the daily grind even just a bit easier :)

#personal stuff #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #mgr #metal gear rising #sekiro #sekiro shadows die twice #dmcv #devil may cry v #hades #disco elysium #the gazette #life is better now especially with the job change #even when my boss can be unreasonable sometimes xD - I now think that any treats to lunch are obligatory for the work I put in hah #seriously guys no shame in clocking off work on time #I truly hope that Taiwan starts looking out for its employees and students more #when Steel Ball Run the anime gets announced let me know asap #I already know I will love Gyro QQ #and if anyone has any JoseCae/CaeJose fanfic recs let me know too xD #I've been devouring that ship in an unhealthy amount #then again when have I been healthy with shipping xD #curse Joseph for being so god darn charming #and Caesar for being the Spongebob to his Patrick

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total-drama-brainrot · 11 months ago

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Ran to listen to The Summoning, because despite also not being in the Starkid fandom I do really enjoy what I've seen of their work, and I've got to say you've piqued my interest on your AU (and not just because it's Alenoaheather 😏).

In terms of the silly little idea I've been sitting on for the past couple of hours, I'll put it under a Read More because I'm about to ramble.

CW: Mentions of death and dying! Nothing graphic, but it's always polite to mention 👍

Mine's just a bare-bones idea, also mostly generated from The Vibes of the song- which is Terrible Things by the way, an edit of it showed up on my TikTok fyp once and I couldn't get it out of my head 😓 until I listened to the whole song (it's still stuck in there)- based around the idea of someone being immortal but constantly plagued by death regardless.

I.e., they can die, but they never stay dead, and they often find themselves in fatal situations as if death itself is constantly nipping at their ankles. Like their own mortality is hunting them down for the thrill of the chase, letting them go once they're metaphorically 'caught' to start the hunt once again. Someone cursed to perish in the most horrific ways possible, only to stand up moments later and walk it off with no hope of leaving their painful purgatory.

I also really liked the aspect in the song about it being a punishment, but I couldn't think of anyone in canon who would deserve such an extreme form of punishment for their actions (other than Chris, potentially, but having him die over and over again would sort of get in the way of him hosting the show, so...).

So, of course, I immediately applied this to Noah because he lives rent free in my head (and I want to make him suffer for it).

Of course, you could substitute him for any other character(s) if you want.

And my mind, looking for a cause/justification for this, went to curses; such a fate couldn't be anything but a curse, right? And canon already has a basis for things like curses through DJ's 'Animal Curse', so it's not an outlandish leap of logic to make. As much as I disliked the animal curse plotline, the concept itself has great potential!

So what if in Egypt, Izzy and Owen raced forward down the mummy path without consulting Leshawna, DJ, Harold and Noah, leaving them as a group of four (as opposed to two groups of three)? When DJ pets the mummified dog, Noah also scrutinises another mummified figure next to it- the 'dog' is a jackal, a placeholder for Anubis, but the other figure is a depiction of Osiris (Egyptian god of life, death and resurrection among other things)- so when they disintegrate both DJ and Noah are cursed, just in different ways.

DJ gets his Animal Curse, since his prioritisation of the dog's wellbeing inadvertently caused Anubis' trinket to crumble into dust, so his 'punishment' was to have animals of all kind be adverse to him.

Osiris, on the other hand, simply decides to turn a blind eye to Noah. As the god of both life and death, this means that Noah is disregarded by both life and death- he's cursed to be rejected from both states of being, leading to him constantly being killed (having his 'live' privileges revoked) but not staying dead (also having his 'die' privileges revoked), in a perpetual vicious cycle of suffering.

...At least, that's the first concept that came to mind. 😅

The AU would then follow Noah's many, many deaths by the hands of both the challenges he faces on Total Drama and the competitors themselves, his budding horror at the realisation that he really can't die/stay dead, and how the others' react to his situation- assuming he probably tries to hide his 'secret', given that immortality is kind of a Big Deal. Also because I think trying to hide the fact that you've just died on International TV is both a great form of dark, ironic comedy whilst also being a really compelling horror concept. Additionally, it'll explore how his mental state- and perhaps also his physical state, for extra angst- deteriorates with every gruesome demise.

Not that I'm very well-versed in the art of writing/creating angst or horror content, but it's a fun idea!

(And imagining how someone like Owen would react to finding out his little buddy is literally suffering a fate worse than death fuels me.)

I'm not entirely sure if I want to go with a timeloop-adjacent approach to his dying, or a real time one minute he's a corpse on the floor, the next he's pushing himself up on shaky arms and wiping the blood from his nose zombie flavoured approach. Either way, it's got a lot of Kenny from South Park vibes to it. 🤷‍♀️

If I did go with the zombiecore approach, I think it'd be funny to pinpoint Noah as the route of Shawn's (and maybe Axel's) paranoia.

you guys ever hear a new song and frantically conceptualise a whole AU around it, starring your current Main Blorbo? or is that just me?

#oh boy 5am! time to talk about torturing my blorbos!#perp please stop enabling me and my dumb ideas. i'm probably gonna wake up tomorrow and hate this whole concept 😔#idk how to Angst properly #all i know is “be annoying” and “make bad jokes”. a court jester's skillset if you will.#total drama #td noah #cw death #silly ideas #ophe rambling #feel free to ignore

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xolaanii · 2 years ago

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KINGDOM [2019] S01 E01 dir. Kim Seong-hun

#kingdomedit #kingdom netflix #kdramaedit #horroredit #tvedit #tv: kingdom #c: lee chang #c: seo-bi #c: queen consort cho #c: mu-yeong #this tv show has lived in my head rent free since it came out #deadass one of the best shows i've ever watched #and i'll watch it again!!!#p: mine #mine: kingdom #valedits

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sunriseantebellum · 3 years ago

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“AS ABOVE, SO BELOW” – a tasm!peter x reader au

Summary: You’re a social media manager for the Daily Bugle by day and a secret agent with the Black Cats by night. And him? As far as you know, he’s a Spyder. And a pain in your ass. → or, a spy/secret agent rivals to teammates/actually coworkers to lovers fic.

Words: 12,030 (!!! that’s a lot of love and hard work! would appreciate a comment after reading!)

🕷 A/N: my first ever tasm!peter fic, for @spidervee’s tasm!peter au event last april! a little late, but i’m so happy this fic is finally out in the world—i hope you’ll have as much fun reading it as i did writing it! (perhaps more to come? who knows!) special thanks to @darlingwendy who was with me every step of the way on this journey hehe.

🕸 rated t but no minors please! poc reader; gender neutral pronouns; has both other marvel characters and original characters on the side; double lives / secret identities; professional rivalry; coworkers; BANTER; kissing & suggestive themes (but all the way at the end)

mood board | full fic below & on ao3 | dividers by @firefly-graphics

“Are you sure you can’t join us for drinks?” Your co-worker Betty asks, leaning over your desk as you stuff your belongings into your tote bag.

You shake your head. “I got my part-time thing tonight, sorry. Next time?”

“You said that last time. You’re always working! You need to let loose and have fun. What’s the harm in living a little?”

“Mmm, because that means spending money and spending money means having less money to pay rent and I love New York and I want to keep living in it?”

Betty sighs. “Alright, good point.”

“I mean it though—the next time I’m free, I will come hang. ‘Kay?” You hold your pinky out to show you mean business.

Betty rolls her eyes but links her pinky with yours anyway. “Well, try to have some fun this weekend.”

“I’ll do my best.” You give your linked pinkies a shake before letting go.

Betty smiles, satisfied for now. “See you on Monday then.”

“See ya!” You loop your arm through the straps of your bag and make your way out the door, managing to get to the elevator before it closes.

Once it gets to the ground floor, you swipe through the biometrics and call out a goodbye to the guard at the front desk as you run off.

The Daily Bugle is a great place to work; you enjoy your job and you like your colleagues. And like you said, you love New York; you have ever since you had first seen it on TV. That’s why you moved here, and why you work at the Bugle: not just to have your finger on the pulse of what’s happening in the city and to its people, but to use the words in your power to do something about it—or at the very least, have those words inspire those with more power to make an actual change.

As for the things beyond change and beyond your power during your day job? Well, that’s why you freelance.

The real fun begins after you leave the building.

“Alright, you’re closing in. The target should be just up ahead. Door on the left.”

“Got it, Nina,” you respond to your partner on the other end of the call. “By the way, remind me to leave the next gala extraction to another agent, my feet are killing me.”

You push on the door and it’s much heavier than you expect. Big wooden doors in rich people’s homes are always heavier than most, but there’s something else about this.

With a final grunt, you get the door open. You walk inside and see a table had been pushed behind it—and two security guards were restrained on the floor, unconscious.

“What the hell?” You say under your breath.

“What’s going on?” Nina’s voice sounds in your ear.

“You didn’t spot any movement in the room before I came in, did you?”

“No, why? What’s your visual?”

“Two men—security, I think—knocked out and tied up. Looks like really thick nylon?” You lean over to get a feel, pinching and pulling at the material. “Weird, it’s sticky…”

There’s a chill in the air suddenly, and you look up to see a window left open. “Someone else was just here.”

“What? Okay, get out of th—”

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice comes in suddenly. “You aren’t allowed in here.”

Great, you think. Time to put those high school drama classes to work.

“Oh, thank God you’re here!” You cry out helplessly. “I was looking for the restroom and when I opened the door, I just saw these two men on the ground!”

You point at them shakily before bringing your hands to your chest to feign timidity. Turning to the guard with your best doe-eyed look, you pout.

“I have no idea what happened, I just drank a little too much and I really need to pee and—”

“Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. And the bathrooms are down the hall.” You’ve disarmed him. Good. “Did you see anything suspicious before you came in?”

“No, sir.” You shake your head. “D-do I need to call the cops, or..?” Your eyes swiftly scan the room a final time.

“That’s alright, we’ll handle it. You take care now.”

“Thank you so much!”

You rush out the door and make your way to the exit. In a calm voice, you say, “I’m headed out, bring the car back around.”

“What the hell was that? Also, how do I submit you to the next Tony’s?”

“Normally, I’d laugh at that but I’m not in the mood. Nee, we have a problem.”

“Tell me in the car, I’m pulling up to the front.”

You spot the black sedan and quickly make your way to it, opening the door and slipping in with ease as you kick off your heels.

“Welcome back. What’s the problem?”

“The nylon I mentioned earlier? Not nylon.”

“You mentioned it was sticky, what was it?”

You open your palm to reveal the piece you were able to extract earlier. “Synthetic web.”

You are very good at what you do. It’s a fact that everyone you’ve worked with (or worked against) knows. Some have even called you the best. You’ve never missed the mark on any job you’ve worked at—until tonight.

So right now, sitting in your boss’ office at Black Cat HQ, is what you can only assume being called to the principal’s office is like.

Felicia sits on her desk, arms folded. “So, who wants to tell me what happened in there?”

Nina looks at you and you nod slightly.

“We think someone may have hijacked the mission. They got to the target first. We didn’t see it coming.”

“The reason I’m not mad is that this kind of situation doesn’t normally happen to either of you. But that’s also the reason why I’m taking this very seriously. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you and Nina reply.

“Okay, continue.”

“Everything was going according to plan—Nina gave me the all-clear, but when I got to the room, it had already been compromised. Whoever was in there blocked the door and incapacitated two of the security team. I think the infiltration point was the window because it was still open when I arrived.”

Felicia nods and turns to Nina. “No cause for alarm before this?”

“No, ma’am. And I checked for any breadcrumbs left behind or any signs of hacking, but nothing.”

Felicia’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “The only one who could bypass our system that cleanly would be—”

“Another agency?” You speak up.

She turns to you. “Yes. A serious accusation. Did you find anything else at the scene that might support this?”

You nod. “Security entered before I had the chance to investigate the room fully, but I was able to verify what the two were tied up with.” You take out a folded gum wrapper where you placed the web from earlier. “It was this sticky, nylon-like material. I think it could be synthetic webbing.”

Felicia sighs, seemingly in relief, which confuses you and Nina. “You should have led with that. Alright, both of you go home.”

You and your teammate exchange a look. “What?”

“Call it a prank, the beginning of a friendly rivalry, whatever. You’ve finally got yourself an equal. It’s just a thing we do to establish rapport between two agencies.”

You feel like you might end up leaving this room more confused than when you came. “I’m sorry, I’m not understanding—”

“Oh right, that!” Nina says suddenly.

You turn to her. “Huh?”

“Goodnight, agents.” Felicia dismisses you both with a flourish of her hand, motioning to the door.

“I’ll explain on the way home,” Nina promises.

At home, you process the events that transpired on what you thought would be just a regular day of spy work. (As regular as spy work gets, you suppose.)

As it turns out, two of the best covert organizations in New York—the Black Cats (whom you work for) and the Spyders—have been maintaining an equally covert partnership over years as a means to balance out the spy “market” in the city.

The more you think about it, the more it makes sense: how else could they operate the way they do and manage to not step on each others’ toes? Or steal any of the others’ clients, for that matter. It’s pretty cool to imagine that even though both sides have done a lot of less-than-legal things in their line of work (for the good of the many, of course), there were still boundaries they wouldn’t cross. But then again, it would be wrong to think that being an agent means not having any rules.

You go to bed that night excited about what lies in store for you. Whoever this is had made the first move tonight, which means they probably think have the upper hand. Maybe they do, for now—but not for long.

For the rest of the weekend, you spend your time crawling the web (so to speak) to find out where Spyders’ next hit will be.

The thing about New Yorkers is that they love vigilantes, especially when they dress the part. Must be the theatrics of it all.

The Black Cats stick to classic catsuits, but their expertise is undercover work—you rarely see them coming since they’ve mastered the art of blending into any situation. The catsuit is usually for more critical extraction missions, where you would need to run and scale and jump and climb. Most situations required you to dress the part, like Friday’s gala event.

The Spyders’ costumes, on the other hand, are more eye-catching, typically ranging from black to blue with hints of red. Their methods are a bit flashier too—they like making it known who had bested the baddies. And as far as you know, almost all their missions were of the high-stake kind, a quick swing by and sneak out.

In other words: the Black Cats operate in the dark, while the Spyders love the attention.

It’s not a judgment call—there’s a reason why they’re one of the best in the city and it’s because that method works for them. It’s just bizarre to you that you couldn’t be any more different.

You consider this to your benefit when you come across the social accounts for ‘spydersightings’. Fairly active on both Twitter and Instagram, these accounts update in real-time and source from user submissions—exactly what you need to track the Spyders down.

You follow spydersightings using realistic-looking burner accounts (just in case) and turn notifications on. The trap is set, and all you have to do is wait.

Come Monday, you have a spring in your step when you get to your desk at 8—right on time. Betty eyes you suspiciously. “Good morning!” You greet her.

“Someone’s chipper. I guess you did end up having some fun this weekend?”

“I did, actually. Lots of reading. Very insightful.”

Betty sighs, but it’s lighthearted. “Not really my idea of fun but, whatever floats your boat.”

“Any meetings you need to sit in this morning?” You ask.

“Let me check.” Betty pulls up her calendar and purses her lips. “Hey, would you look at that—not ‘til 10.”

“Great. Wanna go grab a coffee downstairs?”

“Jeez, this is you without coffee? I’m almost afraid of what you’ll be like caffeinated.”

“Listen,” you start to say in defense, realizing you haven’t even sat down since you arrived. “This is only because I lack sleep. A couple more hours without coffee and I’ll crash on my desk. You’ll come back from your 10 o’clock with me drooling on my laptop.”

“Can’t have that,” Betty replies, getting up from her desk. “Who’s turn is it to buy?”

Opening the Notion app on your phone, you flash the page she created with a record of your shared expenses, as she calls it. “I paid last time, so it’s you today.”

You and your ‘work wife’ walk arm-in-arm and head down on the elevator. The line at the Coffee Bean is exactly what you’d expect at the ground floor of a building with several different companies whose employees would rather pay for an overpriced latte or cold brew than use the break room’s free 3-in-1 on a Monday morning. Which is perfectly fine—you’d rather be here chatting away with your friend than sitting down and working.

At your prompting, Betty tells you all about how her weekend went. You make a mental note to do your best to attend the next after-work hang—especially if it’s karaoke. You kill at karaoke.

“Regular Americano for Peter?” You hear the barista call over Betty’s voice.

“Yeah, that’s me, thanks.” In your peripheral, you see guy with dark hair and glasses make his way to the counter. He’s quite tall and fairly lean, wearing a loose flannel on top of a dark grey t-shirt paired with dark jeans and Nikes. He’s also kind of cute.

“Hey, welcome back, man! Long time no see,” the barista—Ned, you read from his name tag—says warmly. The two engage in small talk and you turn your attention back to Betty, who seems to have turned her head towards them as well.

“Who’s that?” You lift your chin in their direction.

“Oh, that’s Peter! He works in development.”

“Is he new?”

She tilts her head. “Yes and no? He was here before you, then he left for a while. Personal stuff. I think it’s only his second week back.”

You can tell she’s eyeing you and following the trail of your gaze. Then you hear her gasp all of a sudden so you turn back to her. “What—”

“Wait. You think he’s cute, don’t you? I could introduce you!” She says conspiratorially.

“What?! No!” You blurt out, almost too loudly. You calm your voice back down to a normal tone to not draw any attention. “I’m just curious. And anyway, I told you before, I don’t have time to date.”

She hums thoughtfully. “You know what, you kind of remind me of him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Actually, we dated for a little bit and he was always crazy busy with his part-time stuff, too.”

“At least I did you the courtesy of being upfront that I can only commit to you being my work wife.”

Betty laughs. “Okay, fine. I won’t instigate anything. I’m sure your paths will cross eventually, anyway.”

“Social Media and Tech? Not likely.”

“Who knows!” She shrugs, palms in the air. “Jameson might ask for something crazy.”

“What would be crazy is if he finally ups our department’s budget.”

You finally get to the front of the line and Ned greets you with trained but genuine cheerfulness, the latter form more pronounced in Betty’s direction. You make a mental note of this while she orders a medium iced latte for herself and a large cold brew with three pumps of caramel for you. She thanks Ned and he beams before both of you move to the side to wait for your drinks to be served up.

In the corner of your eye, you spy Peter by the bussing station. He’d already finished with his coffee but was lingering for some reason, eyes scanning your area. You quickly look away, but not before you see him toss his cup and head in your direction.

“Hey, Betty! Thought that was you.” He saunters over with his arms open for a friendly hug.

Betty tiptoes slightly and crosses her arms around his back, patting the material of his jacket twice. “Pete, glad to see you back here!”

“Good to be back.” Peter catches your eyes as he lets go of Betty. “Who’s this?”

You automatically hold out your hand for a shake and tell him your name. “I head the social media department. Been at the Bugle for around six months now.”

He smiles and takes your hand in his firm grip, giving it a couple of shakes. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You, too.” You find yourself biting back your smile so you don’t seem too pleased. Over your shoulder, you can feel Betty’s gaze. She’s probably smiling, too. You release Peter’s hand and let yours fall to your side.

He checks his watch. “Well, I gotta run. I have a 9 o’clock. But I’ll see you ladies around?” He shoots a couple of finger guns your way as he runs off.

You and Betty wave goodbye just as your drinks are served. Picking up your cold brew and giving it a swirl with your straw, you share your thoughts with an expectant Betty. “He’s… interesting.”

“Mm-hmm.” She sips on her latte and looks up at you with knowing eyes.

You roll yours. “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

“You were the one who wanted to get coffee,” she points out. You say nothing more on the elevator ride back up.

A few days pass and nothing comes up on your radar about Spyder’s whereabouts. You even asked for a bit of extra help from Nina to use the Black Cat’s resources (authorized by Felicia, of course) to tap into police scanners—but get nothing but literal radio silence about Spyder.

Then on Thursday, a few minutes after 5 PM, your phone buzzes. At first glance, you already see the word ‘spyder’ and tap on the bubble immediately.

@spydersightings: remember when a lucky fan was able to get a photo with a spyder? #tbt @whatsupdanger, 2018

You see a blurry photo of someone in a Spyder suit flashing a peace sign swinging above a little boy. The boy is probably around 13 years old, and he’s grinning from ear to ear. You find yourself smiling and giving the post a like, despite it not being all that useful to you.

Another notif pops up then, and this one is the one you’ve been waiting for. You jump to your feet, shut your laptop down, and holler a quick goodbye to Betty.

“Gotta run!”

“Don’t work too hard!” She barely looks up from her laptop despite it being the end of the day.

Typical Betty. You add, “Same to you—go home!”

She smiles and waves you off good-naturedly while you race to the elevators.

Once you get to the ground floor, you make a call. “Nee? Meet me at HQ. I got a lead.”

“You know what,” Nina’s voice comes through your in-ears. “I just realized how funny it is that you’re being targeted by a Spyder for this… spy-valry.”

“What?” You huff, slightly out of breath from your climb. You hate buildings with broken elevators. Unfortunately, New York is chock-full of them, and mobs love to stash their loot in them.

There’s the unmistakable sound of chips crunching. “Spy rivalry. I just made it up.”

“I got that, I meant ‘what’ like—” you make a sound of exertion as you finally reach your destination, pulling the metal doors apart and pushing yourself through them—��why is it funny? And are you eating?”

“Yes.” Their mouth is full as they reply. “And it’s hilarious considering your history—”

“Out of all the groups operating in New York,” you interrupt with a whine as you catch your breath, “why couldn’t we bump into a Widow instead—or like, Daredevil or something. We’ve taken down the Kingpin’s goons several times and I haven’t seen him once. It just had to be a web-slinger?”

“What’s the problem? If I recall correctly, you liked those spider boys.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Nee, don’t even—”

“I’m pretty sure I remember you even having a huge crush on one of them in high school. Even said something about how you wanted to fight side by side one da—”

“Okay, first of all, you know all mission comms are recorded, right? And second of all, that was like ten years ago and way before I knew about all the other cool people protecting the city,” you say defensively. “I’m on the ninth floor now by the way. Which room am I looking for?”

“903.” You switch your mask settings to night vision and make your way over while your guy-in-the-chair-slash-longtime-friend continues. “And I want it documented when you admit you had to have found it kind of cool that you’re on the same level with someone you’ve admired for years. You heard what Felicia said, whoever this is sees you as their equal!”

“Found it. Going in,” you report, taking out a retractable claw from your gloves to pick the lock. “Also, so rude of you to corner me on this knowing I’ve never lied to you in my life and never will.”

Nina snickers, satisfied. The pin inside the doorknob clicks.

“Yeah,” you admit with a smile, pushing the door open quietly. “It’s the highlight of my career.”

The door opens without a creak and you step through it, drawing your claw back into your glove.

“Whoa.”

“Confirm your visual, agent?”

“It’s quite the visual, alright.”

Right in front of you was the centerpiece of Raphael’s School of Athens painting: the iconic conversation between Plato and Aristotle.

Of course, the painting itself remains on the walls of the Vatican; this is the original sketch Raphael had drawn as a reference. It was supposed to be kept safe—and in one piece—where it was restored, at the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana art gallery in Milan. What the hell is it doing with the mob?

Whatever the reason, you know it starts and ends with it not belonging here. Art was for all of the world to see, not as some hidden treasure only exclusive to a chosen few.

You report your findings on your comms and bring out the carrying bag you had folded into your utility belt. It fits perfectly, and you send grateful vibes out to the universe that it was only a section of the masterpiece—otherwise, you wouldn’t have known how to sneak it out.

“Item acquired,” you inform your partner.

“Nice work. There’s a window in the next room, it’s not too far from the fire escape. It leads to the back alley so I’ll pick you up there. And before you ask, it can’t be opened from the outside without you breaking the glass, so your route really had to be from the ground up.”

“Thanks for clearing that up.” You’re about to head out before you spot a pad of paper and a pen on the table. You smirk to yourself and think it might be a good time to leave a note.

“What’s the holdup?” Nina asks.

“Just leaving a note for our spider friend. Doing the courtesy of letting them know I got to it first.” You keep it short and sweet with a “Gotcha. ♡”

When you set the pen down, you hear a thump! from above.

“Uh Nee, what’s above me? I think I just heard something. Is it a neighbor or—”

“The only thing above you is the rooftop.” Nina pauses. “I think it might be your spider friend.”

“Shoot. They’ll probably see me if I leave now.”

“Your fault for writing a love letter—”

“I wasn’t writing a—!” You stop yourself suddenly, realizing an outburst could blow your entire operation. “Whatever, I need to hide. Don’t make a sound until I say I’m in the clear,” you instruct.

You stealthily open the next door and find it leads to a small bedroom. The window for your escape is directly across from you on the left side; on the right: a cabinet rests against the wall, a bed beside it.

Realizing you still have the note in your hand, you promptly open the window, just enough to make it look like it was left like that haphazardly. You slip the carrying bag behind the cabinet and against the wall, just in case. Then, you place the note on the far end of the bed, nearer the door, before dropping down and rolling underneath it.

Finding space at the bottom of the cabinet, you shift half of your body to fit in the slot, moving as far away from the door as you can. It opens and you expect them to walk in, but you see nothing on the ground.

You do, however, continue to hear movement—and then you realize they’re probably on the ceiling. Of course.

“Anyone in here?” They call out.

Stay calm, you remind yourself. You’ve set the room up to look like you’ve already left, so all you need to do now is wait for them to believe it. You focus on quieting your breathing, making sure that even your heartbeat is steady.

Suddenly, the red-and-webbed feet of the suit you know all too well land on the floor by the bed. You watch as they lean forward, presumably to pick up the note you left.

You hear a chuckle and can’t help but smile to yourself. Their voice sounds youthful; definitely not a teenager, but anywhere between the young adult and older range—you deduce their maturity level would probably fit that. And if you would profile them based on that maturity… they were probably male.

You watch as his feet move closer to the window and you inch your head ever so slightly to be able to get a glimpse. He’s leaning by the window now, pushing open the gap you left wider.

Sticking his head out the window, he checks what would probably be the direction of the fire escape. He must find nothing, because he pockets your note (as to where you had no idea) and mutters a “next time” before crawling out the window, allowing it to shut behind him as he scales upward.

You wait a minute or two to make sure he’s really left before you allow yourself to breathe normally again.

“All clear,” you whisper, shimmying your way out from under the furniture. You retrieve the painting from behind the cabinet. “Heading out now.”

“Phew. Okay. I’m here in the alley.”

“Copy that.”

You exit the window and make sure it closes tightly by pushing against it. Once you’ve secured it, you head towards the fire escape, easily making your way down the bars.

True to their word, Nina is waiting in the car right at the end of the ladder. They open the door to the passenger seat for you and you jump in, placing the carrying case in the backseat before you settle in with your seat belt.

“You okay?” Nina asks once you’re strapped in.

“Yeah,” you reply, still a little out of breath. “That was a close one though.”

“But also kinda thrilling, huh?” They grin.

You nod, smiling, too. “And pretty interesting.”

“How so?”

Turning to them with a curious glint in your eye, you say, “He sounded… kind of familiar.”

You don’t have time for this. You’re a social media manager for the Daily Bugle by day and a secret agent with the Black Cats by night. And him? As far as you know, he’s a Spyder. And a pain in your ass.

Your game of cat-and-mouse spider continued to the point where you would both end up leaving notes for the other at your missions, often a one-liner and a scorecard where one point moved from one column to the next. The most recent one from him was a simple “YOUR MOVE.” followed by a tally with his spider logo and a drawing of black cat—tied at five on each side.

It was a back-and-forth for a total of ten assignments in a little over three weeks—yet you still knew nothing about your rival.

Except that you would eventually meet at some point. You could feel it.

Unfortunately, “some point” would have to wait. You had been too busy with your day job to handle any more nighttime endeavors. One job is hard enough, and you didn’t want to burn yourself out—even if you enjoyed both kinds of work.

But it’s not like you had been missing anything big on the spy front. Not that there was a lack of crime, but when spydersightings wasn’t doing more throwback posts, they were posting sightings of an agent in a different suit.

It isn’t that you’re paying any “extra” attention (despite what Nina might say—you’d argue that it’s literally your job to pay attention to these things), you’re just aware that each agent has a specific suit. There’s a difference in shape and/or color for the spider emblem, and the shades of blues, reds, and sometimes blacks of the suit would also vary, as well as the stitching of the suit itself.

The Black Cats are similar in this aspect, you note, but a lot more subtle; you all wore catsuits but you were able to choose whether it’d be a one-piece or a set, and customize your collars, zippers, and belt buckles, too.

To outsiders, it might be counterintuitive to have defining elements on spy suits, but it hasn’t cost anyone’s identity just yet. And honestly, being able to personalize your own suit is just fun.

Something considerably less fun is your day job. Most times, you do enjoy it, but you’re currently running a big interdepartmental project: a revamp of the Bugle’s digital strategy. It’s moments like these when you kind of regret being so good at your job, because when you’ve proven yourself reliable in a corporate setting, then people will start relying on you for things that should probably earn you a bigger paycheck while still working with your current one. (It can’t just be you who sees this as a problem—you’re quite sure most people would rather money come easy.)

On the bright side, you’re having fun working with a team for once. Covering content and social media at the Bugle is usually a one-person job—another set of eyes would definitely help, but Jameson says the budget can’t cover that and give you a raise—and the only real connection you’ve made at the office was with Betty, partly because she sits closest to you.

As much as you’re a great independent worker, you do love teamwork when the rest of the team are just as capable as you. That’s why you and Nina get along so well (apart from the fact that you’ve been friends for years) and why you don’t end up going home completely drained at the end of the day. It’s tough and taxing work, but still somewhat enjoyable.

And maybe it doesn’t hurt that one of the people you’ve started seeing more of is a certain Peter Parker. For purely professional reasons, of course.

Peter saunters in with that gait of his, holding his laptop in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. He’s wearing a blue sweater that fits nicely around his shoulders, and you notice your first impression of him being “lean” was wrong—though to be fair to you he was in an ill-fitting flannel at that time. This knitted piece was snug in all the right places. You could practically see the shape of his toned arms beneath the sleeves…

You manage to redirect your focus, ignoring what looks like the beginnings of a smirk on his lips.

“Hey! I just sent you an email,” you tell him as you look back down at your laptop. “There’s something wrong with the website’s blog section, the tags aren’t functioning right. Also, I think the Instagram RSS is buggy.”

“Hey, yourself,” he greets, walking closer. “Yeah, I just got your email actually and thought I’d swing by.”

“Oh?”

“Just had to get outta my seat and stretch for a little bit.” He looks right at you. “Feels like I’ve forgotten what the sun looked like.”

“What?” You laugh, feeling a blush creep in at his gaze.

“Do you know what the developer’s side of this floor looks like? The blinds are shut, the lights on are the bare minimum needed for sight, and everyone uses dark mode on their machines. It’s like a bat cave.”

“Ah,” you say, and it’s at this point that you realize all you’ve been saying are one-word replies. “Well, I’ve never been in the tech area.”

“Right.” He nods in understanding before he brings his straw to his mouth and sips the last of his drink. “Okay, scoot over.”

“Sorry, what?”

Peter sets his laptop down on your desk and tosses his empty drink in a nearby bin. He makes a small fist pump when it goes in like a basket.

When he sees you haven’t inched from your position, he explains, “It’ll be easier to adjust the code and ask you to check if it’s all firing correctly while I’m here, instead of us having to go back and forth on Slack.”

You sigh and nod in agreement, moving to the other side of the desk as he pulls in a chair—Betty’s, since she was in a meeting—to sit beside you.

“Don’t mind me. Just continue doing your thing while I do mine.”

You smile politely. “That was the plan.”

The two of you work in comfortable silence, the only sound between you the typing on your keyboards until Peter groans at his screen.

You glance at him in concern before looking back at your screen to continue what you were working on. “What’s up?”

“This page has been weird since day one,” he complains. “Whoever coded it didn’t know what they were doing. I wanna redo the page from scratch so bad, but my project leader won’t let me mess with the timeline.” From your peripheral, you can see that he’s leaning in your direction, looking pointedly at you.

You look away from your laptop to return his expression and roll your eyes lightheartedly. “Unfortunately your project leader is under strict orders to stick to the said timeline. Nothing I can do.”

The both of you share a laugh before looking back at your respective screens.

“You know,” he says in between clicks, “I didn’t take you for the glasses-wearing type.”

You feel a little self-conscious; you forgot you were wearing them today. You explain anyway, “Been nearsighted since the sixth grade. I wear contacts most of the time but my eyes didn’t feel like cooperating with me today. And my insurance doesn’t cover Lasik, so.” You shrug. “How about you?”

“I feel kinda bad now.” He takes the frames off his face. “Mine are just for show.”

“Really?” Part of you wants to add to look smart or something?—but in your few interactions with this guy, you know he doesn’t need to look it; he is smart.

“Yeah, anti-blue light or something. My aunt got them for me when she realized that aside from the video games, I really did have to stare at a screen all day for work too, in order to pay the bills.”

“That’s sweet of her.”

“It is.” He slides his specs back on with a smile. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her that there isn’t much scientific proof about the harms of blue light from screens though.”

You smile. “Sweet of you.”

“I’ve been told,” he comments back and returns to his laptop. Before you can add anything else, he finishes clacking away at his keyboard with a flourish. “There, we should be all set up now. Go check.”

You refresh the page, checking the links and tags again. He fixed the problem quite promptly, taking another milestone off the project timeline.

“That did it,” you confirm. “Thanks.” You turn to him and smile.

He smiles back. “Yeah, no problem.”

Your phone buzzes and you immediately see ‘spyder’ as your screen lights up. His eyes follow the flash, but your hand is quick enough to lock the screen.

Or so you think. “You a fan?” He asks.

You try to play it cool. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He nods, but doesn’t say more. You’re thankful he dropped the subject. “Well,” he stands and picks up his laptop off the table. “I should be getting back to my station.”

You nod. “Thanks for stopping by.”

He starts to walk away before spinning on his heel to turn back. “You know, I could do that more often. Stop by. If you’d like that.”

The sudden invitation—if that’s what you could call it—surprises you, but you can’t help but grin. “I would like that. Or, you know, we could also get a coffee. Outside the office. Maybe when this is all over and we have some room to breathe?”

Peter matches your grin. “I’ll hold you to that offer.”

You nod in acknowledgment and supply a small “Cool”. He echoes your response and you laugh.

“I’ll go and head back now,” he says.

“Okay. Bye!”

“See ya!” He clicks his tongue and flashes what you now see as his signature finger guns before dashing away.

“Just so you know,” you hear from behind you. You turn around and find Betty, who had apparently returned from her meeting in the nick of time. “I heard all of that. I also heard what was not being said.”

You know there’s no use arguing with her, so you just laugh and tell her to shut up.

A couple of weeks later and your project at the Bugle wraps up. Surprisingly, Jameson treats the floor to a pizza party—one where everyone only gets a single slice each but, hey, it’s something.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Betty when Peter walks up to you, plastic cup in hand.

“Hey, ladies,” he greets. You and Betty say a “hey” back before he lifts his chin in the direction of your drinks. “Can I get you a refill?”

“I’m good,” Betty replies.

You check your cup to see you’re almost out, so you accept his offer. “That’d be great actually. I hope we’re not out of Coke Zero?”

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “I actually just took the last of what was in the bottle. But you know what?” He hands you his nearly-full cup and takes away your nearly-empty one. “Here. I don’t mind bouncing to a Diet or Regular or whatever.”

“Are you su—” you being to protest, but he’s already downed the rest of your drink.

“I’m sure. It’s no problem.” He flashes a smile and you concede.

“Thanks. Hurry back?”

He nods before running off—not unlike a puppy, you note.

You don’t even notice the smile on your face until Betty points it out. “Look at you!” she says. “Can’t believe you were the mayor of I-Don’t-Have-Time-To-Date Town a couple of months ago and now you’re getting your flirt on.”

“To be fair, we still haven’t gone on an actual date. Just a few joint coffee runs with like, 10-minute conversations.”

Betty makes a noncommittal noise while you take a sip from your—Peter’s?—drink.

“But who knows?” You add. “Now that the project’s over…”

Just as you were about to allow yourself to indulge in normal-person things, your phone buzzes with messages.

Nee: you finally free from the corporate clutches tonight? got an assignment that’s up our alley

Nee: LOL. didn’t even realize i made a cat joke at first. i’m hilarious

“Let me guess…” Betty starts.

“Yeah, my freelance thing wants me to come in. I could use the extra cash, I’ve been without for some time now…”

Betty sighs, knowing all too well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your lack of free time. At that moment, Peter returns with his drink.

“Hi again.”

His charm is irresistible, you just have to smile. “Hi,” you say back.

There’s a ping! of a notification next to you and it’s coming from Betty’s phone. You notice her reply swiftly with a smile on her face. She finishes her drink and sets it down on the table. “I gotta go. Would you toss this for me?”

“Yeah, sure. Where are you off to?” You ask.

“A date. With Ned, from downstairs?” She smiles again.

“The barista? Oh, I knew he was into you!” You gush.

“Glad he took my advice to finally ask you out,” Peter adds, almost bragging. “Have fun, you two.”

“Thanks. See ya Monday!”

“Bye!” You wave after her as she skips to the elevator.

“Speaking of which… on my round trip to the drinks table, I was thinking about that coffee,” Peter starts. “Would you wanna grab some dinner instead? And maybe catch a movie?”

A pang of disappointment weighs on your chest. “Pete, I’d love to, I really would. It’s just that—you know how I mentioned I freelance sometimes?”

“Oh. I see, no worries.” His face falls ever so slightly, but the look of understanding is more prominent. “Actually, something came up for me too, I was just wondering if I could ditch.”

You smile apologetically. “I really am sorry. But next time! Definitely next time.”

“Yeah, for sure!” He nods.

There’s a moment of silence before you add, “I actually have to head out, so um. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let me walk you to the elevator?”

You nod, smiling. “I’d like that.”

The two of you walk together, shoulders brushing from time to time. Thankfully, the silence between you isn’t awkward at all—in fact, it feels like he’s as bummed as you are, which is oddly comforting.

Locking eyes as you wait for the elevator to shut, you give a small wave and he flashes you a peace sign. At the last second, you dart out to peck him on the cheek, and you giggle at his stunned expression as the doors close.

“This better be good, Nee. I missed out on a date tonight.”

“A date?” Nina exclaims in your in-ear, mouth half-full.

“Don’t tease!”

“I’m not! I’m happy for you! It’s about time!” They say sincerely.

“Yeah, well, the thing about time is I don’t have the luxury of it.”

Nina makes a lighthearted scoff. “You are so dramatic.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan. “This is the worst!”

“That wasn’t a cue for you to give another example—”

“No, Nee. Look.”

You snap a photo of what you see in front of you: another empty safe, save for a piece of paper. No guesses needed to know who it’s from: there was a “Missed me?” in that now-annoyingly-familiar scrawl, and your score tallies—with a point in his favor.

Sighing, you say, “I’ll clear out, there’s nothing left for me to do here anyway.”

“Wait, don’t go just yet.”

“What’s up, Nina?”

“I just picked up a signal—” they pause, probably to verify the location— “on the roof! I think you can still manage to get the package. And maybe meet your Spyder friend, too!”

You don’t respond—you already started running as soon as you heard the word ‘signal’.

It’s an office building, so you find the stairway easily. There are a few floors above you to get to the roof. You smirk to yourself realizing that this is the perfect time to use your favorite spy tool—your grappling hooks.

You aim the hooks at the handrails and manage to pull yourself up each floor swiftly. Finally, you see the door at the top and kick it in.

Your veins are rushing with adrenaline when you make it to the roof. Panting, you look around and see a figure in an unmistakable shade of red examining a flash drive—the very one you were supposed to take from the safe.

He spots you and mutters a “shit”, and you run toward him at top speed. As you approach, he readies his position to spar, but you catch him by surprise when you take the low ground and sweep his leg, causing him to lose his balance.

You snap your head around to see the drive in mid-air and quickly tumble towards it to catch it in your hand.

“I got it,” you manage to say under your breath. But before you can pocket the device, a string of web takes it away.

“Sorry,” the Spyder says, probably not very sorry at all. “No hard feelings?”

Before you can even reply, he’s gone—swinging from building to building and getting farther and farther away from you.

Automatically, you start to go after him, aiming your grappling hooks at the building across from you.

“Hey!” You suddenly hear Nina yell your name in your ear. “Don’t even think about it. You’ve never used the grapples to swing across buildings before. Maybe practice that in a safe space before you do it out on the field, huh?”

You pant. “I almost had him.”

“Yes. And you were amazing. But let’s call it, okay?”

“Fine,” you accept. You were exhausted anyway.

“Come on. Let’s go for some milkshakes. You deserve it.”

“Alright. But only if you’re buying.”

“Your wish is my command. You’ll probably want to take the fire escape to get outta there. Meet you at the bottom.”

“Thanks, Nina.”

When you get home from your milkshake date, as you’re emptying your pockets, you find that tonight’s encounter might not be a complete loss after all.

Other than finally meeting your rival mask-to-mask, you realize he got clumsy with his last note: he left a clue.

Unlike the other ones he left (which seemed to be just plain paper), his most recent message was written on the back of a receipt—from a very familiar cafe, no less.

That’s right: the Coffee Bean on the ground floor of the Bugle Building. The only problem is that it’s smack in the business district and the building alone is forty-six stories tall. So, it could be anyone from those 3 floors devoted to the editorial office, 2 sub-basement levels for the printing presses, and 41 floors rented out to other companies or tenants or what-have-yous.

Still, you know there’s only one way this competition will end—and you’re one step closer to it.

At this point, you realize that catching your Spyder would need a new strategy—one that may involve not actually engaging with the Spyder for a while. Putting your pride aside and letting him keep the one point he has over you, you would opt to surveil in the meantime, observing his movements to and from the scenes spydersightings would post about. If you couldn’t beat him at the location, you’d steal from under him on his way out.

It turns out that having an active social life actually helps this new strategy. You’d finally accepted Betty’s invites to go out with other people from the office after work, and since you were always in densely populated areas, it was quite easy to spot any commotion. If a Spyder was in the area, you’d hear about it.

You’d even gone out of your way to plan some of the hangouts—a win-win situation for both Betty and yourself: Betty gets to have fun with friends, and you get to narrow down a location.

Then, on days you weren’t being social, you’d head to the gym to train your upper body and core, or to the Black Cat training center to practice your grappling hook maneuvers. Though you can admit you’ll never be as smooth as a Spyder, you were getting the hang of swinging.

And on top of all that preparation under the guise of work-life balance, you’d even used one of your precious vacation days at work so you could preserve your energy for the grand finale.

Tonight is the night, you can feel it.

“Alright, I’m getting a new heat signature above you,” Nina says. “Are you ready to intercept the package?”

“Born ready. Let’s go.”

You move towards what you and Nina had mapped out as the nearest extraction point to the wall, keeping a keen eye out for your Spyder.

And then you see it—a glint of red in the night sky.

“I’m moving in,” you report.

From this point forward, every one of your movements needs to be precise.

You watch him land on the building wall so you run to the adjacent corner, shooting your grappling hook so you can climb up as well.

Pulling upwards, you scale the wall—then use your weight to swing around the corner.

“Surprise!” You say, unable to keep it in. He turns his body toward you and in a fraction of a second, you can see his mask pulled halfway up, the brown envelope being held between his teeth.

You shift your weight so that your feet can land on his chest. He makes an oof! sound as you fold your knees in and push as you take the folder with one hand, before you swing back on your rope.

Midair, you retract your hook and shoot it to a lower section of the next building, so you could find your way to the ground more easily. You brace your landing with a tumble before immediately breaking out into a run to find your escape route.

“Great work!” Nina cheers excitedly in your ear. “Just a few blocks ahead, you’ll find the manhole we talked about. I’ll lead you out of there and when you come out, you’ll be right in front of the car.”

“I see the manhole. I’m going in.”

“See you on the other side.”

You take the crowbar you had strategically left in the alley and lift the manhole with minimal effort. Despite the stench of the sewer, you were in euphoria. Absolutely buzzing. Simply elated. Just over the moon.

Everything is going according to plan—until you trigger a web trap.

In your haste, you failed to check if the place was booby-trapped. Now, you were all but glued to the ground, the webs reaching your knees. You couldn’t leave your boots behind even if you wanted to.

“Nee, we got a problem. I’m stuck.”

“What?” They don’t mask the worry in their voice. “In… what?”

“A web.”

“Thank God. I thought it was something else, considering the location.” It takes a beat before they realize— “wait, did you say web? Shit.”

“Yeah, that might have been just slightly better,” you quip, attempting to wriggle out of the trap to no avail. “If we found his getaway area, and this is the sewer nearest that, it makes sense he’d have it secured somehow.”

“Damn. Well, at least you have the folder, right?”

You’re about to reply in affirmative when you suddenly feel a presence looming behind you—and then a red-and-blue-clothed arm reaches out to take the envelope from your hands.

“Surprise,” comes the smug voice. “I’ll take that.”

“Shit. We were so close,” you hear Nina say.

The Spyder crosses in front of you as he boasts his victory. “Sorry I didn’t have time to write another note, but I believe that puts me two points in the lead?”

Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you assert, “You know, I had that one.”

“Of course you did,” he replies, his tone patronizing. “The other ones, too.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really not going to acknowledge—”

“No, actually, I know you did.” You both pause, and you consider if he just gave you a compliment. Then he continues, “That’s why swooping in at the last minute to finish the job is just so satisfying.”

You scoff, incredulous yet proud despite still being stuck in your shoes. But you won’t go down without a fight. “I don’t know what’s worse, if you were ignorant about me being good or that you’d rather take credit for how good I am. You know what, this is how I know you’re definitely a white cis man. And I mean that as a complete insult.”

“What?” He laughs incredulously. You can’t help but grin.

“I mean, the way you just take credit for a person of color’s hard work so easily.” (Also, you saw his lips, but you didn’t think you had to add that.)

“Hey hey whoa, you playing this card?” He puts his hands up in front of his chest (one of them still holding onto the envelope), as if surrendering.

You smirk, wanting to drive another nail into the coffin of your comeback. “If I have to. Who knows, maybe I’ll make an anonymous tip to the Daily Bugle about how their favorite Spyder is bigoted, opportunistic—”

“You’re joking,” he interrupts, and you really are, but he’s laughing, and it’s kind of cute, so you continue.

“Yeah, Twitter will have your ass. You’ll be canceled by even the most liberal of stan accounts.”

“Okay, but good luck since I work at the Bugle and—”

“Wait, what did you just say?”

If this were a TV show, you would hear that record scratch sound.

Did this Spyder just… accidentally reveal his identity?

“…Whaaat?” He laughs nervously.

You obviously can’t see under the mask, but the way his body freezes makes you think his face is probably such a funny thing to behold right now, eyes widening in mortification before he shuts them tightly. He squeezes the bridge of his nose through the mask and puts his face in his hands.

“Look can we just forget ab—”

“Hold on,” you say, processing the information you now know.

The Coffee Bean receipt, the Daily Bugle connection, and that familiar charm… there’s no way.

Unless… maybe the simplest answer is the right one?

You decide to take that chance and say, “Peter?”

He doesn’t respond right away, just slowly takes his face out of his hands. With the mask, his expression is unreadable. But you have to keep pushing.

You know that unmasking him (so to speak) will finally end the competition, so maybe it was time for a little more risk. After all, you were already so close to the big win.

“Since we’re in the business of meeting each other equally,” you interrupt before giving a little pause. “Me, too.”

“What?” The Spyder—Peter?—asks.

You hear Nina’s voice in your ear at the same time. “What are you doing?”

“I… work at the Bugle, too…”

“You’re kidding.” He doesn’t bother masking his disbelief.

“Trust me,” you say, both to him and to Nina listening in.

You lift the mask off your face. “Surprise,” you announce for the second time that night (though you’ve lost count of just how many there’d already been).

“You…” You can tell by his voice and the way he shakes his head that there’s a smile on his face.

“It’s me,” you confirm with a smile. “And you are…?”

The Spyder’s mask comes off next to reveal the face of the boy you’ve grown fond of: Peter Parker.

“You got me.” He smiles, wide, and you match the shape.

Then it dawns on you both that you’re still stuck.

“Oh shit, sorry, lemme just—” he rips through the webs easily— “there you go.” He holds out his arm to steady you as you step out of the trap area.

“My hero,” you comment, and you swear he blushes. You decide to use this to your advantage. “So, Peter. You wanna get us out of here? I’m sure there are still some diners open if you wanted to grab something to eat.”

Cocking his head to the side, he gives you another boyish grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I have a car waiting at the end of the tunnel. And a person who’s very curious about you,” you add, pointing to your ear.

He leans forward (a little close, but you’re chill about it) and says “hi.”

Nina says, “Tell him he gave us a lot of grief. Or I can just tell him myself later.”

“Oh, I heard ya,” he replies, chuckling as he pulls back. “I gotta drop this off at home first, though.” He brandishes the folder in his hand.

You fold your hands across your chest and shake your head. “Hmm, no, I think I should take that.”

It actually looks like he considers giving it away. “What’s in it for me?” He jokes.

“I think I can make it worth your while.” You wink.

“Oh.”

“Mm-hmm.” You hold your hand out and he places the folder in there. “Good boy.”

“Still here, by the way,” Nina says quickly. “And waiting in an increasingly dark alley.”

You smile, folder now in your possession. “We’re on our way.”

Peter’s able to grab a backpack he had stashed away for emergency outfit changes. He throws on a jacket and sweatpants over his suit.

You introduce Nina and Peter to each other and they get along great, but Nina chooses to drop the two of you off at a nearby diner so as to not be a third wheel.

As you grab your backup coat from the car, they whisper, “Guess you didn’t miss your date after all, huh?”

You both grin and tell them to shut up as they drive off laughing.

Throwing on your coat, you walk over to Peter who’s waiting at the entrance of the diner. You notice he’s grinning, too. “So, were you talking about me or something?”

You’re starting to wonder if he has some sort of super-hearing. “And if I was?”

“Then great. No further comments from me.” He shrugs and you laugh as you both enter the diner.

A waiter arrives to greet and seat you at a table with a free basket of breadsticks and two glasses of tap water. You order a grilled cheese and tomato soup for yourself and he gets a bacon cheeseburger plus two Coke Zeros, one for each of you.

“I just realized something,” you say as the waiter leaves. “You work in development.”

“Yes.” Peter replies with a nod.

“Web development,” you reiterate, stressing your point.

“Yes,” he repeats, knowing exactly how it sounds, and stuffing a breadstick into his pleased grin. “What can I say, I commit to the bit.”

You laugh and you realize it comes so easy with him. You take a big drink from your water and grab a breadstick to munch on to avoid getting flustered by the epiphany.

“So, how does it feel like to win? You did unmask me.”

“It feels pretty good,” you admit. “But how does this end, does the loser have to stop working as a spy or something?”

“No, no.”

“But how will you know I won’t expose you?”

He leans in close and lowers his voice. “Well first, because you’re a spy too, so you know the rules. Second, your boss won’t let you, because of said rules. And third, because I know you well enough to know you have integrity.” He locks eyes with you in an earnest and you nod. He backs away slightly and continues, “Besides, it’s not that big a secret. I have some people in my life that know.”

“Really?”

“Well I don’t exactly go around advertising it but, you know, the people that care and worry about me deserve to know where I go most nights.”

“Like your aunt?”

“She was the first one I told.” He smiles. “What about you? I’m sure you have people you confide in.”

“Well, it helps that my oldest friend is my partner on the job, so I’m not really left itching to tell anyone else,” you confess. “My parents are worried enough; they’re barely convinced that little ol’ me can take care of myself in such a big city.”

“Well, I think one day they’d be happy to know they’re wrong. All things in their own time, of course.”

“Thanks, Peter.” You smile at his sincerity and understanding.

The food soon arrives and you chat over your meals. You allow him to dip a fry in your tomato soup and he gives you a little piece of his bacon. When the check arrives, he offers to pay for it all and you let him as “reparations”, which he accepts with a laugh.

It’s a nice night for a walk, so you both decide to head home that way, extending your date with more conversation.

“So, why did you want to become an agent? Assuming it was your choice,” Peter asks,

“Honestly, I lived a pretty comfortable life. It wasn’t luxurious by any means but we had it good. If I had stayed in my small town, I don’t think anything exciting would ever happen to me, and I would’ve been okay with that,” you tell him. “And then in my senior year of high school, I saw this guy in a spider suit on the news, constantly saving the day. Then I realized that there was something more to life, and it was waiting for me in New York.”

Peter smiles, suddenly shy at the implied admission of admiration. “So, no tragic backstory then?”

“No, thankfully I didn’t have anything too bad happen to me for me to want to help people.” You smile back. “I’ve just seen too much bad to not do anything about it. How about you?”

“My uncle…” he trails off, wondering if this is good first date conversation.

You sense his hesitance and say, “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

He shakes his head. “No it’s alright, I brought it up. My uncle was killed when I was in high school, and I couldn’t help but think it was part of a bigger conspiracy. I did some digging and I ended up being right. Then the Spyders approached me and the rest is history.”

“Hey,” you say, gently holding him by the arm to stop him in his tracks. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He smiles. “It was a long time ago. But thank you.”

“Can I give you a hug?” You ask.

“Uh, yes,” he replies.

His eagerness makes you laugh, and you tiptoe a bit to hold him in an embrace. You can feel him nuzzle your neck and you feel like you’re hugging a big dog.

“Anyway.” He motions to continue walking and you follow suit. “Enough about me—how the heck do you manage a full-time job and this on the side? And be good at both?”

You shrug, smiling. “We all need hobbies. Plus, it’s good exercise.”

He laughs. “You serious?”

“I am! Also, weirdly one is a form of de-stressing from the other.”

“You’re amazing.”

You fight the blush that creeps in at the compliment. “Thanks. I could say the same about you.” You pause, readying yourself for the admission. “Well, I have. Pretty famously.”

“Oh, have you?” He asks, suddenly very curious.

“Well, not to brag, but I was the first person to call you the ‘amazing spider-man’ on Twitter.”

“No way.”

You nod. “Remember how I mentioned my senior year…”

“You’re kidding!”

“Actually, that was what got me a job offer from the Bugle. Which is kind of funny, considering—” You stop yourself.

“Considering what?” He steps in front of you to keep from evading the question.

“Uh, considering I was just a small-town teen from—”

“No, wait, don’t tell me you had a stan account, too.”

“That’s all you get. Find the rest out yourself.” You walk past him in nonchalance. “Anyway, I believe you know your way around the web.”

“Oh, ha-ha,” he says, catching up to you easily. “You know what, I could just hack you.”

You eye him dead-on. “You wouldn’t.”

“Maybe. But maybe you don’t know me well enough to say what I would and wouldn’t do. How do you think I was able to beat you on the job so many times?”

“Equal times,” you correct. “And I won in the end using fair means.”

“Not sure how you would define fair since we’re essentially Robin Hoods, but okay.” He shrugs. “So, you’re a fan? Like, a longtime fan?”

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at how he switched the topic back. “I pretty much moved to New York because of you. Yes, I’m a fan.” You can tell by the look on his face that he’s about to say something really smug, so you add, “But Daredevil is my favorite.”

Peter stops in his tracks. “Yeah, right.”

You nod, stopping next to him. “It’s true.”

“You know, he’s a friend of mine, actually.”

Well, you weren’t expecting that. “O-oh?”

“Yeah, I could introduce you—are you blushing?”

“I am not!” You laugh and start to walk ahead so he can’t take a closer look at your face.

He chases after you. “You totally are!” Then you notice him stop before returning to a more leisurely pace. “Oh, you know what? I take back the introduction thing.”

“No! Why!” You whine as you turn back to him, and then you notice the redness at the top of his ears. “Wait, are you jealous?”

“Definitely not!” Peter says almost immediately, avoiding eye contact.

You stand right in front of him, arms crossed, and narrow your eyes. “Are you lying?”

He looks down at you and gulps. “... Maybe?”

Pleased with yourself, you smile. “And you say I don’t know you well enough.”

You walk a little more in comfortable silence when Peter suddenly—but gently—grabs your wrists and leads you to an empty alley. “Hey, come here. I wanna try something.”

“Okay…” You start. “I hope you’re aware of what this looks like.”

He laughs and says, “Trust me.” And you do. “Just—stay right there.” He positions you in front of the wall of the alley.

“Alright.” You stand and wait just like he asked.

After a few minutes, you hear the sound of his web-shooters and the call of your name from above you. You look up to see him lowering himself from the top of the fire escape railing to hang in front of you.

You do what you do best when you’re nervous: talk. “You know, like this, you look more like a bat than you do a spider.”

This gets him to laugh, but he tells you in a hushed voice, “For once. Just for this one moment. Stop talking.”

You nod.

“Good. I’m going to kiss you now. Nod if—” He laughs. You’re already nodding.

Your hands find the back of his head and you pull him closer to meet his lips with yours.

Kissing Peter is the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced in your life.

You can say with confidence that you’ve never been kissed like this before—acrobatics aside. He kisses you the same way he looks at you; like nothing else around you matters. It’s only your first of what you’re sure will be many kisses, but you can already feel like it will be just like hearing his laugh—every time will set your heart as aflutter as the first. You know this is something you will always look for from now on; his kiss is your new favorite song, your new regular coffee order, your new bedtime hoodie.

The first thing you say when you pull apart for air is, “Wow.” The second is, “You were jealous.”

Peter groans, and you laugh. “Could you please just savor this moment with me.” It’s not a question or a request. He leans forward for another kiss.

You accept it in multitudes and giggle against his lips. “How long have you been wanting to do this?”

“With you, or in general?”

“Uh, both.”

He takes a moment to consider the question. “Long enough.”

You grin. “So, the same answer for both? Would it also be the same if I asked you how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me, regardless of direction?”

Still upside-down, he rolls his eyes. “Well, would it be the same if I asked you the same questions?”

“Would it be the same answer for in or out of our suits?”

“Don’t make me come down there.”

“And what if I want you to?” You smile.

Peter flips over easily and lands on his feet. As soon as he does, he steps toward you again for another kiss, holding you firmly by the waist and breathing you in deeply. You relish in another first kiss with him, this time right-side-up.

When you pull away, you say, “Actually, I only did that so you could come down and stop the blood from rushing to your head. But thanks.”

“Hmm, you care about me or something?” He asks smugly.

“Um, well, you know…” You say, getting a kick out of frustrating him.

“I got another question: do you ever stop talking?”

You laugh and shake your head. “Nuh-uh. You gotta make me.”

“Okay, challenge accepted.” He takes you by the hand and leads you towards the fire escape. “Come upstairs?”

Now you’re speechless. Your jaw drops and Peter is smirking so hard.

“You took us to the back of your apartment building to make out?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Thought it’d be convenient.”

“Oh my God.” You laugh, fully enjoying this moment. “You really are amazing.”

“So you’ll come up?”

“Yes, but only if you swing me up there.”

Without even taking a beat, Peter takes your hands and wraps them around his neck, then lightly lifts your legs to wrap around his waist. “Hold on tight.”

Before you know it, you hear the sound of his web-shooters and you’re zooming in the air. When you land, it’s softly onto his bedroom floor, and his lips are on yours again.

Work becomes a lot easier after you and Peter get together. Of course, injustices—whether you see them on social media manager for the Daily Bugle or as a secret agent with the Black Cats—will always keep you up at night, but it’s always good to know you have someone to come home to at the end of the day.

Sometimes, it’s even better when that person becomes a partner you can rely on, to get you through any kind of tangled web or any sticky situation, no matter what kind of job you’re working on.

But the days you can relax with each other and just be are the best. When Peter tells you one of his favorite ways to relax is on a web hammock between two skyscrapers, you immediately demand he make one for two on the next mission you work together.

And here you are, watching the sunset from 50 stories up, playing 20 Questions.

“Okay: flight or telekinesis?” You ask.

“Flight, always flight,” Peter answers. “That way I won’t have to reload my web-shooters all the time. Or deal with traffic, like, ever again.”

“That’s a good answer.” You nod. “Telekinesis for me though, hands down. But it’s one of those powers that are definitely, like, really important to go to the right person. I accept that.”

“I think you could handle it.”

“Aww, babe.” You lean your head on his chest. “Thank you for trusting me.”

He chuckles and pats your head. “My turn. Back to basics: cats or dogs?”

“Dogs,” you say automatically. “No brainer.”

“You’re a dog person?” He asks, surprised. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Why? Oh, is it the catsuit?” You tease.

He pauses, furrowing his brow to look serious. “Yes. And I was fully prepared to tell you that I’m a dog person but I’ll make an exception for you.”

You laugh at this and smack his chest playfully. “I just think it’s funny the catsuit misled you.”

“More than it being ‘misleading’, I think a better way to put it is that it distracts me.” The way he eyes you make you feel conscious and confident at the same time.

“Ah, if it distracts you so much, should I take it off? So you can concentrate better?” You offer with a smirk, hand on the zipper down your chest.

“Wow. Here? Didn’t think you were such a tease.” He raises an eyebrow.

You move closer to him, further egging him on. “Well, not here. But it looks like there’s still a lot you don’t know about me, Parker.”

Peter hums thoughtfully, pressing a kiss onto your smiling mouth. “I think I’ll take my time finding out.”

thank you for making it to the end!! please consider a like/comment/reblog after reading. 🥰️

tags: @spidervee @fallensilencefics

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destinysbounty · 3 years ago

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zane and nya for character opinion bingo

ZANE

Oh god blorbo supreme. The original blorbo. This nindroid can fit so much trauma in him. I could rant about him for a million years. Im like this close to giving into temptation and making a 20-minute compilation of all my favorite Zane moments (listen, the party pooper scene lives in my head rent-free at all times). Oh god he needs so much therapy, and no, locking your trauma in a digital puzzle box does not count as therapy.

Some people characterize him as some emotionless and boring lawful good. Some people characterize him as an uwu wholesome softboi. But in my opinion, the most correct interpretation is Dorky Suburban Dad.

Think about it. He wore a button-up and khakis to the beach. He dresses up in a full scuba skin-suit whenever they have a party in their own damn hot tub. He once wore a sweater vest with snowflakes on it. On their lil desert road trip he entertained himself by reading about regional trivia, and delighted in sharing this trivia with his friends. He loves playing board games, especially chess. He likes to make ice puns. He loves cooking. He's the closest thing they have to a responsible adult. When he became the team leader in season 5 he kept everyone pumped with all those silly little sayings like "one team one dream!" He apparently loves detective fiction. He thinks that walking like a pirate with a peg-leg will get people to respect him. He loves astronomy and, according to Lloyd, "knows the solar system better than anyone". Whenever someone is upset he's always there providing a comforting smile and a pat on the shoulder. He spent 5 minutes debating the morality of making an ice ramp for a slug. He doesn't understand pop culture. Zane is a dorky suburban dad and you can't change my mind.

He's also a fashion icon. For example, when he died, the ninja all became a total fashion disaster in his absence. We all saw it. None of them matched. Like did you see Kai's horrendous lil fight club costume? Jay's atrocious tv host suit? And Cole just straight up wasn't even wearing a shirt anymore. And even when they came back together, their ninja suits still didn't match! And sure, it was meant to symbolize how disjointed they'd become in the wake of his loss, but STILL. The fact that their CLOTHES of all things were out of wack indicates to me that he's the only one on the team with any fashion sense.

And let's not forget the moment from Seabound where he decided to wear the breathing mask despite not needing oxygen because "I like how it completes my attire". And his Snake Jaguar costume!!! And his titty-out look in The Island! And not to mention how the Detective Zane outfit is a LOOK. He rocks the hell out of that trenchcoat.

This is all to say, Lego needs to release the forbidden bikini Zane content or I'm gonna break in and find it myself.

NYA

Ohoho, the fandom does Nya SOOO dirty. Especially since she's not as outwardly affectionate as Jay, so a lot of people interpret this as her being more callous and unloving towards him. She A) has a metric ton of childhood baggage, and B) expresses her affection in different ways! Jay might say 'I love you' with words more often, but she shows how much she cares through acts of service and quality time and whatnot.

Also. Hot take but Nya has some of the most compelling character arcs and subplots in this entire goddamn show. Teaming up with Dareth to spy on Chen? Overcoming her gifted child syndrome in season 5? The X Cave fight in season 7????? Struggling to keep the resistance alive even when all her friends were dead, doing everything in her power to keep Lloyd from losing hope even though they were the only ones left???????????? The entirety of Seabound??????????

The show definitely blunders often in terms of the whole sexism/performative feminism thing, for sure. Looking at you, Skybound. But she also has a LOT of character arcs where her being the Girl^TM isn't even at all relevant. Season 5. Season 7. Season 9. Season 10. Season 11. Season 15.

Anyway Nya is amazing and she deserves better from the fandom, and I will die on this hill. Nya didn't singlehandedly destroy hell itself just to be reduced to some shallow Designated Love Interest.

#also minor gripe but it bugs me when people say nya and zane arent close/dont know each other very well #like??? nya full on sobbed when zane died #and when zane lost nya...well that involves crystalized spoilers but lets just say he is Not Handling It Well #and when the og4 return from the first realm nya hugs jay and then immediately hugs zane next #and when aspheera blasted zane she was one of the first people to rush over to where hed once been standing #and their whole thing in ns7! with zanes word catalogue scrambled and nya as the only one capable of interpreting him #and zane asking nya to help with his lil video diary project in decoded #and zane and nyas reunion in season 4 gives me SO many feelings #they are BESTIES your honor #ninjago #destiny post

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1-800-hellraiser · 2 years ago

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My Andre Lee Headcanons

These are some of my Andre headcanons because he lives in my head rent free. I have Inside Job braintot lol. If you have different headcanons of him that's fine, these are just personal ones :)

Cw for drug use and drug making

Sfw!

♧ Andre has sensory issues with certain fabrics. Specifically with velvet and wool. Velvet rides up easily and makes his skin itchy, and wool gets stuck on the dead skin on his hands. It makes him very uncomfy :(

♧ He LOVES grilled cheese. He lived off of grilled cheeses along with Ramen when he was in college. If you can make him a good grilled cheese, mans is head over heels with you immediately.

♧ We all know Andre is an EDM type of guy mostly, but his guilty pleasure is pop music. He is a Belieber and a Directioner, he has been since 2012. He also listens to the Twilight movie soundtrack once a month, it heals his soul.

♧ Andre owns a pair of the Balenciaga platform crocs courtesy of Gigi during an annual Secret Santa. He wears them to raves and semi-formal Cognito events.

♧ The crocs came with charms too. He wears them on his regular crocs though because he usually doesn't wear the platform ones to work.

♧ Myc is Andre's best friend no doubt but he's actually really good friends with Gigi too. They go clubbing and bar hopping sometimes when they're both free.

♧ Andre and Myc did date for a while, but they didn't stay together because they thought they would just be better off as friends.

♧ Andre's favorite soda is Sprite, no I will not elaborate

♧ Andre can't drive for shit (to be fair he is high most if not all of the time). He has totaled the Cognito company van MULTIPLE times. So he's not aloud to drive anymore. It has to be literally anyone else but Andre.

♧ I feel like Andre is the type of guy to vape instead of smoke cigarettes. He thinks they taste gross and would rather have like a Piña Colada flavored Hyde or something like that. Myc teases him for it lmao. If Andre's vaping and Myc walks (scuttles? Idk) into the room he'll make a comment like "it smells like a high school bathroom in here."

♧ It's heavily implied that Andre is queer. I see him as Pansexual and Transgender. He uses He/Him pronouns.

♧ It's canon that Andre grew up with strict Christian parents, I think he's done drugs before but managed to hide it from his parents. Nothing hard, but he has smoked weed at sleepovers with his friends before. The only way he could get away with it is because he would wash his clothes that he smoked in and his parents wouldn't know.

♧ But as soon as he moved out, he started getting into hard stuff. He wasn't scared of trying new drugs and drinking because his parents weren't able to dictate what he did anymore. Sure they don't approve of his lifestyle now, but he doesn't care what they think.

♧ Andre still watches cartoons because bright animated tv show goes brrr. He watches My Little Pony with Myc a lot.

♧ I think Andre uses drugs to cope with his OCD and Tourettes because he HATED taking his medication for it. His medication would make him feel horrible, so when he found out he could use other drugs to cope with it he was ecstatic.

♧ When Andre was hired into Cognito, he started doing so many drugs. Ofc the government has access to so many unlisted drugs that nobody could find anywhere else. But his job also have him access to a lab where he could just make his own drugs.

♧ He definitely watches RuPaul's Dragrace. His outfits are so,,, just,,,,, I can't put it into words but I feel like he has an appreciation camp fashion and drag queens.

♧ Like in Blue Bloods when he wears that outfit to the Reptoid gala. You can't tell me he's not inspired by camp fashion.

#ily <3333 #ilysm <333 #<3 <3 <3 #inside job #andre lee #inside job andre lee #drugs tw #drugs cw #sfw #safe for work

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asexy-phoenix · 2 years ago

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Even More Fic Recs

We’re still doing it, folks! All of these are single works, and if you’re curious there is a fic recs post coming that is all series, no single fics. So be on the lookout for that if you’re curious. Long post, fics under the cut

i missed me more by AslansCompass

a Percy Jackson and the Olympians fic about an aro/ace child of Aphrodite. Because if living in a world where an actual love goddess exists is hard when you’re aro/ace, imagine being the daughter of that goddess.

this fic IS part of a series that I will recommend later - for now this is the only work i have bookmarked

when the sun came up, I was looking at you by suzukiblu

did you ever want a hilariously funny miscommunication story that is also set in space and is full of Poe/Finn/Rey? If you did, this is the one for you! The premise is that, since food is so rare on Jakku, proposing involves people giving each other food as a gift. Rey arrives in the resistance and hilarious miscommunications ensue

Trade by SassySnowperson

hurt/comfort? Tatooine worldbuilding? A canon divergence where someone takes care of Obi-Wan and gives him the attention and love he deserves? That someone being the combined forces of Owen Lars and Beru Whitesun? THIS ONE HAS IT ALL

Mischief is its Own Reward by dalniente

this is probably the best Megamind fic I’ve ever read. A fake dating story where Roxanne brings Megamind with her for the holidays combined with copious amounts of fluff, pining, getting together, and open, honest communication! So good! My fave! Best fic!

Stranger Than Fiction by cereal

did you finish Broadchurch wanting Alec and Ellie to get together and be a cute, slightly oblivious couple? Read this, it’s awesome

richochet by PaintedVanilla

this is just...an excellently in-character fic where Alec is forced to confront his feelings when he and Ellie end up on a date together. Plus there’s sweet family banter between Alec and Daisy and just go read this one it’s great

A Quiet Night At Home by nightrose

A ‘Sherlock comes back after Reichenbach’ story where it’s calm and fluffy and soft in all the right ways. The best post-Reichenbach story out there, it did for John and Sherlock what an entire tv show couldn’t - gave them a happy ending. And it did it all in less than 700 words

To See a Soul by slothemperess

a double whammy soulmate au and wingfic! This story lived rent-free in my head whenever I thought about Jarida from the time I first read it on FFnet until I was finally able to track it down and bookmark it on Ao3 so, you know...it’s awesome and you should give it a read

Having It Sorted by AlabasterInk

a Harry Potter crossover where the Sorting Hat becomes friend and confidante to a group of immortal spirits. You guessed it, it’s an RoTBTD fic and it’s brilliant!

you are a paradigm by 1electricpirate

the first and so far only Potterlock story I’ve ever read, this one is excellent and makes me happy in all the right ways. And I’m not the only one, judging by the amount of collections this story has been added to

Intervention by Asidian

ugh, this one hits me in the feels. A post-Avengers story where Thor finds out that Loki’s punishment by Odin was far worse than he could have imagined and goes to Tony to ask for help. Full of hurt/comfort and family bonds, this fic singlehandedly reversed my expectations of Thor in the fic I write

It is gory so beware, but not at the expense of the story

To Be Modified As Necessary by ignipes

did you ever wonder what the ten rules the Avengers needed to live together peacefully were? Find out in this excellent story!

Regulus Black and the Way Things Changed: A Not!Fic by imaginary_golux

like the title says, this isn’t really a fic. What this is, is a series of bullet points re-telling the entire Harry Potter saga from the ground up with the premise that Regulus Black becomes the turncoat that Dumbledore takes in. It’s absolutely not canon-compliant but that doesn’t matter because it’s funny enough to make me die laughing

Harry Potter and the Lack of Lamb Sauce by imagitory

it begins as a story based off the premise that instead of Slughorn, Gordon Ramsey is hired to be Harry’s potion teacher in his sixth year. It ends as a complex re-telling of the sixth and seventh books from the perspectives of several different witches and wizards all caught up in a war that is spinning them out of control. Seriously brilliant, you should read it. Even though it’s 99 chapters long

wonderterror by peradi

the Skywalkers, being descended from the Force, are not entirely human. A fic in three parts exploring that concept. Full of eldritch horrors and Skywalker drama, I wish this story was canon

How Far the Stars Fall, How Bright They Burn by Jahaliel, Ms_NothingSpecial

I’ll admit, I’m not that well-versed in the Clone Wars lore, but that almost doesn’t matter because the lyrical writing and amazing premise of this story makes up for that in spades. This is an AU where Order 66 doesn’t go as planned thanks to Force intervention and that’s just the tip of the iceberg

Feathers by SolarMorrigan

a character study of an autistic Newt Scamander and how he functions in a world that feels like it is designed to overwhelm him. I feel seen by this story, go check it out

Severus Snape and the Midnight Tea by inmyownlittlecorner

what is it like teaching potions to Luna Lovegood? And will she teach Severus something in return? A beautiful story about Severus and Luna in the oddest of friendships.

Let’s Do the Same as They by halotolerant

a Captain America story where Bucky, Peggy, and Steve run into another trio who has a similar relationship to theirs. A crossover between Captain America and Singing in the Rain doesn’t feel like it should work, but it definitely does and leaves me wanting more.

Mandala by Roberly

another soulmate au, this one a Sherlock story where soulmates find each other by coloured swirls that form matching unique mandalas on each others arms. Lots of worldbuilding and an ending that made me laugh out loud!

A Cloak of Moonlight by Gehayi

an evocative, richly-told story that takes the story of the 12 Dancing Princesses and expands into a world with lore and backstory. This story also fleshes out the princesses a bit more and makes their story more sympathetic and tragic and...oh just go read it. I can’t do it justice

How These Days Grow Long by Never_Says_Die

I read this story once, years ago, and I never forgot it. It’s a Walking Dead AU where Daryl and Glenn were dating before the apocalypse and got separated at the start of it. It’s a journey of a story that makes me feel so many things, especially Daryl and Glenn emotions. I had never thought of shipping these two but by the end of this fic I was convinced of their relationship

Ryan Bergara and the WTF Patronthingy by raven_aorla

to round off this list, yet another Harry Potter AU! This one is a crossover with Buzzfeed: Unsolved with lots of friendship and hurt/comfort included!

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buckybarnesdiaries · 4 years ago

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; i'm coming home

bucky barnes x reader ⎢ masterlist.

bucky and you met six years ago in romania, but he disappeared. now, he's back.

word count: 1.8k.

warnings/tags: none.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

requests are open.

Six years had passed since the last time he was with you, before disappearing overnight. He didn't give you any explanation, he didn't even leave a note. He needed to protect you, but he also knew how stubborn you were and that you wouldn't let him take that decision for both. So Bucky simply left, breaking your heart in one thousand pieces. You wanted to understand his reasons, but you couldn't. He promised you eternal love, a life together, moving out of New York —maybe to a remote place where anyone could recognize him and have peaceful days, without having to be worried about someone coming after him. About someone trying to hurt you.

Since the very first moment you met in Romania, Bucky fell in love with you. Sometimes you still remembered how he started talking to you in Romanian, guessing you were from there until you laughed and replied in English. The next few weeks were like a daydream. Walks, romantic dates, nights of stargazing. Then, you came back to New York and kept in touch by letters, as in the forties or fifties. Until one day. Your friends invited you to a museum and what you discovered there was unbelievable. James, your James, was Captain America's best friend. And he was supposed to be dead.

You wrote to him. You told him you knew it. You told him you didn't care, that you could figure out how to escape from that situation. Together. But he never sent you a letter back. You weren't able to forget him after all that time, still sleeping every night with his red shirt, stupidly fantasizing about the idea of Bucky coming back to you. And your hopes increased when you watched him on TV. The Avengers found him and, even if you tried to contact them somehow to defend your James, you never got it. Nobody believed you, not even when you showed them the letters, not the only picture you conservated of both of you in Bucharest. You prayed to God to help him. You begged God to the world seeing him as you did.

But when Bucky was released on parole, he never tried to look for you. He did know you lived in New York and, with his resources, he'd have known in less than five minutes. One year had passed, and you ended up losing the most minimal hope wrapping your heart. All those things he told you once, were just lies. Lies to inventing a parallel life until you left Romania. Only replying to your letters to have something to lean on for his own good. That's what he demonstrated to you.

bucky's pov

Like every night since he earned part of his freedom, Bucky stared at the windows of your apartment, from the opposite sidewalk hidden behind a tree. Like a ghost. Like he was trained to see but not be seeing. Every night, he wanted to cross the road, call to your door, kiss you, hug you, feel your touch and your love —hold you, and never let you go again. But he knew it was risky, he knew he had to wait for the right time. And it came. Tonight it came. His year of therapy had ended and he was free. Bucky was free to come back home.

He had been watching you since it started, making sure you were safe and sound. He also was aware that you never rebuilt your life with another man, that you tried to find him. That you slept every night with his shirt. Bucky was also aware of all the times you cried for him, that you always walked the same way from your job to your apartment expecting to meet him in some street close to it. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

Taking a deep, deep breath, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his coat, the soldier put a step on the road. The first step to happiness. And then, no one could stop him. He continued to the front door of the building, not needing more than a push to open it. Third floor, fifth door at the right of the corridor. Bucky licked his bottom lip nervously, swallowing as he took a master key from one of his pockets and a small metallic stick to force the lock of your house. He needed to be fast and stealthy, ringing the bell wasn't an option for very obvious reasons. Breaking into the apartment, he closed the door quietly behind his back.

The lights were all turned off a couple of hours ago when you went to sleep, after sitting on the window of your living room waiting for someone who wasn't going to show up, as every night for the last six years. The whole place smelled sweet like you used to. Bucky never forgot your scent, using it as the encouragement he needed to continue fighting for his freedom, for a life together. Now, his heart was racing so quickly that the whole city could hear his beats.

Slowly, he toured the entrance, the living room, the hallway straight to your dorm. The door was half-closed. Not a single noise coming from the inside. Bucky walked towards it, pushing it in slow motion, trying to not wake you up. And if he knew before that could be that easy to watch you sleep —for creepy that it sounded— he would have watched you every night since he landed in New York.

Bucky wasn't sure about what to do. If he should wake you up, if he should let you sleep and come the next day after you finished your work. When he wanted to realize, he was running the nail of his index finger on your soft cheek. Your skin was still warm, which meant you fell asleep crying again. And that broke his heart, his soul. Being conscious of all the pain and the suffering he made you being through all that time was killing him from inside. And he wished he could have handled your relationship in another way. But there wasn't another way without you being collateral damage of his past.

Bucky was about to leave when he suddenly felt a hit to his collarbone, stumbling to the bed. He didn't have time to react when your right leg was beneath his cold arm and pinning down his neck, as your left leg was laced around it. Your hand gripping his wrist, immobilizing him, pointing at him with a loaded gun between your free fingers. Your breathing became erratic, your pulse was beating faster than ever, but you were ready to shoot if the occasion required it.

In the middle of the gloom you glimpsed at those deep oceanic blue eyes you had been craving to look at for years. The same eyes on the picture on your nightstand. It has to be another dream. Another nightmare where Bucky came to tell you that everything was going to be okay. But his touch felt so real that it hurt like a million flames burning down your body to ashes. You were paralyzed. Your brain collapsed. In a very slow motion, James —your James— raised his right hand from the mattress to above his chest, bringing it to the gun aimed at his head. You couldn't stop him. You tried with all your strength. But the commands sent by your neurons never reached the finger supported against the trigger.

His flesh digits made their way to your trembling hand, as the tears started to sprout out from your eyes. Bucky took the weapon, not needing to ask you to release it, to put it away from the two of you.

“It's okay, draga mea, it's me…” He whispered with such an angelical and melodic voice, over your dolorous sobs. “May I, uh… get my arm back?”

Bit by bit, you obeyed as if it was some kind of polite order, loosening the grip around his arm and over his neck. Stepping back till your body collided with the headboard, you curled up your knees to your furious chest rising and falling, hiding your face between the gap of both. Your cry became louder, agonic, painful, ripping your throat.

“No— Not again… Not again, please… I c— can't”. You implored sorely.

Bucky didn't need to be a genius to understand you firmly believed it was just part of another of your dreams. Another of your nightmares. He sat upon your bed, coming closer to you and landing his cold metallic hand on the back of your head, urging you to raise it. You did. You did raise your burning face because of the tears falling, running down your cheeks. Your blurry gaze focused on his pale blue eyes, begging you silently to forgive him.

“I'm here… I'm back”. Bucky murmured, gently touring your skin until reaching a side of your neck, caressing your throat by using his thumb. “This is not a dream, draga mea. This is real”.

His intentions weren't to scare you, speaking to you with such a honeyed tone of voice as he shortened the distance between his body and your legs yet curled. You pouted unconsciously, watching him leaning above your legs to press his lips on the bridge of your nose. Slowly, fondly. Wanting to transmit to you that the flame of his love for you never went out. Resting his forehead against yours, your right hand flew straight to the back of his neck. You had never needed more than you needed him at that precise instant, trying to believe that that wasn't a trick of your subconscious.

“'M so, so sorry… I had to protect you… I had to protect you”. Bucky explained while closing his eyes, lacing his free fingers with yours. “But, uh… I know you still drink black coffee with mocha and a stick of cinnamon every Thursday. I know you… rent a book from the library and sit on the stairs in your free evenings… I know you sleep with this same shirt every night”.

Discovering he had been watching you all this time provoked your lips to shiver, as your cry became lower and your breathing was calmer. He guarded your days, in the shadows, till the right moment. And it came. Tonight was the right moment.

“I'm free. I'm not an enemy anymore… I'm not a target”. Bucky couldn't help but chuckle to hold back his own tears. “I'm so sorry”.

“Will you…? Will you stay now? With me?” At first, you doubted asking, being afraid of his response for a second.

“No one will ever set us apart again. No one”. He promised you, his heart speaking, telling the absolute truth. “Everything I told you in Bucharest; everything was true. And I… I want it”.

Bucky leaned forward enough inches to make disappear the less distance between both of you, pressing his lips in yours, tenderly caressing your jawline with his thumb as his tears met yours in the corner of your lips. Neither of you could believe that you were reunited after all these years, after all the pain, the loneliness. And like James, your James, said so: no one would ever set you apart again.

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garbagevanfleet · 4 years ago

Text

Brightest Blue (series)

PART ONE

Pairing: Josh & female!Reader Warnings: None yet. Summary: Things are changing. New state. New school. New roommate. You just pray things are going to click into place. Notes: Here we are everyone. This fic has been a long time in the making, but I’m pretty dang happy with it so far! I made Josh extra lovable and squishy for you all. I hope you enjoy! This fic is edited by the amazing and gorgeous, @lantern-inthenight. And big thanks as always to @myownparadise96. I literally could not have found the motivation to do this fic without you.

MASTERPOST

taglist: @myownparadise96 @n1-party-anthem @valleyd0ll @bigblack-catattack @guitarfingers @thebohemianpenguin @oblvions @hansonobsessed @satingrass-maidensfair

The scenery in Michigan was vastly different than back home. You were used to and comfortable with the nearly unforgiving heat of the American South West, but the farther away you got from home, the more foreign everything seemed. The scrubland slowly started being replaced by emerald green grass and dense forests of towering pines. Once you hit Illinois, little farmsteads were scattered along every road you took, boasting fields thick with corn and beans.

It was a bit over a full day’s worth of driving. You had originally thought you could just drive right through - after all, you were young and you had plenty of caffeine at the ready. In reality, you wound up digesting the trip over two days.

You were a fortunate enough person that you had a reliable car, which made up for the fact that it wasn’t very pretty to look at. It didn’t exactly sip gas, but that had never even been a concern before this - it wasn’t very often that you left home, let alone make a trip across the country. But you were able to breathe a sigh of relief when you started seeing the exit signs for Ann Arbor.

Your parents had been a bit judgemental about you picking a school so far away - they were even worse homebodies than you, and they knew that you being across the country meant they wouldn’t be seeing you until the school year was over - but there was no way you could turn down an opportunity like this one. You had worked your ass off to qualify for a scholarship, knowing full well that there was no way you could afford higher education otherwise. MU hadn’t been your very first choice but with one of the better programs in the country for your desired field, you just couldn’t turn it down.

You had to pull over into a McDonald’s parking lot to pull up the address you were looking for and program it into your phone’s GPS before continuing further into the city. Your mother had been particularly wary about your living situation. See, she was a woman that adamantly liked to have a plan and then stick to it - she didn’t see any value in just letting things happen. “Go with the flow” wasn’t in her vocabulary, but you’d always romanticised the idea. Which was why, when you pulled up to the apartment that you were going to be living in for the next year, it was the first time you’d ever seen it.

You had found the listing on the Facebook marketplace for the area, looked at a couple of pictures, and signed the lease agreement online - all without knowing what you were really in for. You’d been informed that you’d have a roommate when you’d contacted the landlord, but she hadn’t mentioned a thing about the person other than that. All she really said was “no pets, no smoking, and one month’s rent for the security deposit. You had told yourself that it didn’t really matter what the situation was as long as the other person wasn’t outwardly malicious and the place wasn’t infested with pests or anything, even though you knew it mattered a little.

An audible sigh of relief left your lips when you pulled into the apartment parking lot and found that your new home looked well kept. The building had old, slide-up windows, but the brick siding was clean, and the shrubs that lined the property were trimmed and neat. You and your back seat stuffed to max capacity with house plants had made it - and with only a bit of sleep deprivation and caffeine jitters for damages.

After you got out of the car, you grabbed your very favorite potted cactus and found your way into the building, meandering down the dim hall until you came upon the door marked 6. You hadn’t been given a key yet, so you knocked with your free hand and waited until you heard someone shuffling around inside.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t nervous - obviously, you were - but more than anything you were excited. Anxious, maybe? That seemed like the right word.

The door opened to reveal a boy, around your age, hair a mess of curls on the top and shorn tighter to the sides of his head. You were immediately taken aback by the depth in his eyes, chocolatey and warm.

“What’s up?” he asked casually, leaning against the door frame, a pair of old-school headphones dangling from his hand.

You frowned at him slightly, suddenly terrified you’d gotten the wrong apartment number. You weren’t sure how you’d live with that embarrassment, especially if you had to live next door to him - you’d just be that stupid girl that didn’t even know where she lived. “Oh, I think I’m your new roommate? This is number six, right?” You peered around the other side of the open door, just to confirm.

A beaming grin spread over his soft face, showing you his blindingly white teeth and the deepest pair of dimples you’d ever seen. “Oh, cool, yeah. Come on in.”

He stepped aside, giving a dramatically flourished bow as a gesture for you to enter. You obliged, and even though this was your new house too, you paused and waited as he shut the door behind you.

“Sorry, I was expecting you yesterday, so.” He trailed off with a sheepish smile and then extended his free hand to you. “Anyway, I’m Josh.”

You shifted your cactus to one arm so you could shake his hand. “Y/N. Yeah, sorry, it took me longer than I expected to get here. Which is why my stuff apparently showed up before I did.”

You eyed around the apartment, spotting boxes of your things in piles. The original plan your parents had come up with was to have you rent a U-Haul, but since you’d never driven anything bigger than your Camry, you had quickly shot that idea down. After some expert negotiating, they had agreed to hire a moving company. You hadn’t had the balls to ask what a service like that had set them back - decided instead that it was better if you didn’t know.

“Oh yeah,” he replied, rubbing at the back of his neck. “It all showed up yesterday at like noon. One of the boxes was open a little, and I saw records so I looked through them to make sure you weren’t some kind of freak.”

It was more of a statement than a warning, and the smile he gave you showed not even a shred of an apology so you just smiled back. “Find anything you like?”

He turned on his heel and headed into the kitchen - connected to the living room by a huge square archway. “Your music taste is,” He paused, opening a cupboard and pulling down two mismatched glasses. “Eclectic.”

You laughed at him, bending to gently set your plant down on a side table. “That’s true.”

“But I found plenty I could listen to, so I guess you’re okay. You want some juice?” he asked as he held up a paper carton of store brand orange juice

“That would be lovely,” you agreed, standing stick straight the way you did when in the presence of new company. “My dad used to take me to a lot of thrift stores and we’d go home with a minimum of two records per trip.”

“I love thrifting,” he said simply, giving you an alarmingly serious look. “There are three here, I think. Every once in a while you can find something really worth keeping. I have kind of a ‘catch and release’ policy where if I don’t instantly know what I’m going to do with an item, I leave it there, but I think - like - a third of my wardrobe is from thrift stores.”

You listened, feeling oddly entranced by the way he was handing you thoughts as they came to him. There was something truly honest about it - a quality people back home didn’t seem to have. It was charming.

He brought your glass of juice to you and then motioned to the rest of the apartment. “You want the grand tour of Casa De Joshua-” He gave you a pointed look and a cheesy grin. “And Y/N?”

You breathed a laugh at him, nodding as you sipped. “Please.”

“Okay, try not to get lost - this is obviously the living room. I do most of my living here as the name would suggest. I found this couch on the side of the road - actually almost all of my furniture is adopted.” As he explained, he was gesturing to items like Vanna White.

The couch looked. Well-loved. You could tell just at a glance that it was probably past it’s prime when Josh had stumbled upon it, but it did look comfortable, and it wasn’t like you had a couch to offer, so you were happy with it.

“I have this TV but it’s really only for movies and stuff because I’m twenty-two and I’d rather die than pay for cable. But there are literally hundreds of DVDs in the TV stand that you are welcome to peruse at your leisure,” he informed, his hands gesturing almost arbitrarily as he talked.

You followed as he moved on through the archway. “This is the kitchen. All of the food lives here. There’s lots of stuff, but I try to just make two bigger meals per day. I don’t have a real ice tray so I’ve been using a chocolate mold- Well anyway, our ice will be in the shape of wiener dogs.”

You were shocked at the laugh that escaped you, genuine and uncontrolled. He grinned over at you, clearly also surprised - but pleased with himself for getting the reaction he was aiming for.

“I think I can live with that.”

“Good,” he agreed simply, giving you a new kind of smile - something sweeter. After a beat, he motioned down the hall with his eyes, letting you lead. “The bathroom is this way. The water takes like three or four minutes to get hot. I realized that I have a lot of products for some reason, but I condensed them all into this one area in the corner just in case my new roommate was a girl, and you are so that’s great. I’ll probably get a shelf.”

There was a proud quality to his voice like he felt gentlemanly for letting you have all the space you needed. For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy.

“And what if your new roommate had been a boy?” you inquired with a smirk.

He put a finger on his chin, taking on a contemplative look for you. “Hmm. Then I guess I slowly would have moved my stuff back to the cabinet - probably just one thing per day so he wouldn’t notice. Unless he had a lot of makeup or something, then I’d just let him have it.”

He grinned as you teasingly shook your head.

“This way is the sleeping quarters. My room is there on the right and yours to the left.”

You stepped into your new room and let a sigh of relief. Two huge windows took up a lot of the far wall, framed underneath by large sills. The space was bright and roomier than you’d pictured. Your bed was set up in the very middle of the room, but you already knew exactly where you wanted it to go. For some reason, you had been concerned that you wouldn’t like the space, but it was kind of perfect.

“This is great,” you breathed, turning to him and giving him a sly grin. “Wanna give me a hand moving my furniture around?”

He pretended to consider for a moment until you spoke again.

“My mom sent money for pizza while I get stuff unpacked,” you said coyly. “If you needed any convincing.”

He laughed, showing you his teeth. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay, I’ll help as long as I get to look through your stuff while we move it.”

You gave him a questioning look, earning a one-shouldered shrug in return. He looked benign enough standing there, propped against the door frame with a goofy upturn to his lips, so you relented.

“Deal,” you agreed.

You were positive you would not have been able to move stuff without his help. For being a slender boy, he seemed to easily be able to get things where they needed to be. He dutifully helped you shove your furniture into place - your bed against the window wall, your desk and vanity on the wall with your closet door. Then, bless his little heart, he helped you move it all again when you decided you didn’t like the arrangement (but not without some light griping).

One by one, you brought in your boxes from the living room and you allowed him to poke through them, perched on your bed. He flipped through your books, thumbing pages of ones that piqued his interest - you could only imagine that he was already planning on borrowing some of them. He reacted similarly to your framed photos, as he unwrapped them from their packing paper.

When you got your record player set up, he put on a vinyl and started to hang your art prints on the wall where you instructed him to. The look of concentration on his face was rather endearing as he held a few nails between his teeth and hammered them into the wall, one by one. There was a time or two you were convinced that he was going to mutilate his thumb, but he didn’t, and when the last picture was hung, you breathed a sigh of relief.

You called in a pizza, adorned with his requested toppings as you hung your clothes into your closet, your phone tucked against your ear and shoulder for maximum efficiency.

Plants collected on your bed until there was no more room for them - after that, he started setting them on the floor as he brought them in from your car. He didn’t seem to be judging the sheer amount of them, even though he had every right to.

“It’s going to look like a jungle in here,” he stated finally as he took a bite out of a slice of pizza that he was holding like a taco, his eyes raking over all of the foliage scattered around your room. Rather than sounding like he was teasing, his tone seemed excited.

You grinned at him, starting to arrange them on the window sill and your bookshelf that had only ever served you as a plant shelf since you’d bought it. “Plants are my passion. Botany major,” you explained as you fluffed up your Monstera’s huge leaves.

“Ooh.” He raised his eyebrows at you, pulling one of his legs up underneath him on your bed - now fitted with sheets. “I think that’s going to be nice. Give it some life in here.”

You grabbed another slice from the pizza box on your nightstand and tried to think of the right tone of voice to use to ask the next question. “How long have you lived here by yourself?”

He hummed, eyes flicking around distantly as he thought. “Well, I’ve lived here just over a year, and my first roommate dropped out and moved back home about...six months ago?”

“Have you been lonely? You seem like a social guy.” You gave him an empathetic look but he just shrugged at you. You hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure, but you suspected he was more affected than he was letting on.

“I mean, a little lonely. But I got used to it for the most part.” He paused for a good couple of seconds before a smile spread across his lips. “And Penny’s kept me company.”

“Oh, does your girlfriend stay here too?” you prompted, trying to remember if you’d seen any feminine looking items lying around that weren’t yours.

“What? No,” he said under a chuckle and stood, gesturing for you to follow him across the hall.

The second you walked through the doorway, you were met with the smell of incense sticks and linen. His room was dimmer than yours and kind of cramped with all of his mismatching furniture, but he had a huge bed - you thought it could easily fit three people in it. There were some clothes strewn about around a laundry hamper by the door and you tried to not be jealous that his closet seemed to be about twice the size of yours.

He crossed the room to crouch in front of a coffee table that he seemed to be using as a catch-all. The varnish was worn off the top of it in rings because sitting on the coffee table was a globe of water and a calico colored goldfish swimming around aimlessly inside of it.

“Ah, so this is Penny,” you giggled as you bent over next to him. When the fish spotted him, it rose to the surface of the water, opening its mouth in demand for food.

He grinned down at it. “Light of my life. We’re not allowed to have pets but I figured that a fish didn’t count.”

You hummed, admittedly a bit charmed by the whole situation. “But don’t goldfish require a lot of space?”

The smile fell from his face, adopting a level of concern you hadn’t yet seen from him as he peered over at you. “Do they?”

Immediately, you felt guilty for putting that look on his features. Your brain kick-started - trying to think of a way to make it right again. “I think so? Maybe we can find her a small tank? Put a few little plants in there for her?”

Josh nodded at you, stroking his fingers over the glass with a frown. “I’m a bad dad.”

“No, no!” you assured, putting your hand on his head but then removing it instantly when you realized that you didn’t really know him, he’d just already made you feel like you did. Either way, you figured it would be inappropriate to touch him. “You’re great. She looks really happy.”

“She’s great at begging for food, so don’t get tricked,” Josh instructed after a moment, seemingly able to put his concerns aside to jest you.

You nodded in agreement. “I’ll be ever vigilant,” you promised, making him smile again.

He stood back up, so you did as well.

“Well, I’ll give you some time to get comfortable in your room,” Josh said, sitting back on his bed. “Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

“I promise I will,” you assured, tapping your hand on the doorframe on your way out.

By the time the sun was set, your room was shockingly well put together. The emotional rollercoaster that was the album Rumors helped you keep on task, losing yourself in the music so it didn’t feel like work at all. You hadn’t been expecting it to come along so quickly, but you guessed that was because you hadn’t anticipated such a friendly roommate. The nesting had always been your favorite part, so you took your time to enjoy placing out all your knick-knacks and photos.

You took a break to shower when you decided you were done for the day, reveling in the feeling of the water after such a long time in your car - He was absolutely right about how long it took to warm up from ice cold. When you got out and changed into your pajamas, Josh was sitting in the living room with a laptop across his legs.

“You wanna chill?” he asked when he heard you padding down the hall, shutting the lid of it and setting it on a side table. “Or if you’re too tired, that’s okay too.”

“No, no. I’d love to talk.” You sat next to him, leaving a comfortable amount of room between you as you pulled your knees up to your chin. “Tell me more about yourself,” you requested, tugging a blanket from a beat-up wicker basket on the floor and wrapping it around your body.

“Hmm, okay,” he started. You wondered how long it had been since he had to introduce himself to someone new. “I’m from a tiny little town here in Michigan. I’m the oldest of four - two brothers and a sister. My brother, Jake, also attends MU and lives just off campus.”

You frowned at him. “Wait, why wouldn’t he live with you?” you asked through a disbelieving laugh.

“He lived with me long enough,” Josh explained in a humored tone. “There are only so many people where I’m from and well - we wanted to meet new people, you know?”

“I guess I should be grateful for that.”

“Yeah, probably,” he teased and then paused to think. “I’m in performing arts - I’m actually putting on a production around Christmas with some elementary school kids.”

You suppressed the aww that was threatening to pass your lips. “You like kids?”

He beamed you a smile, shaking his head. “Love them. I want to have like ten of them someday.”

The thought of him surrounded by kids made you soften. You were genuinely shocked about how easy he was to talk to - how easy he was to like. You had never thought in a million years you’d get along with your roommate so well, let alone the first day meeting them.

“I hope you get to,” you said as genuinely as you could muster, prompting him to give you a grateful smile.

A yawn escaped you before you could hide it, and you quickly breathed an apology, but he just waved you off.

“You must be exhausted from that drive,” he said, his voice soft. “You should get some sleep.”

You nodded in agreement and gave him a thankful smile. “Is it okay if I sleep out here?”

The look on his face was quizzical, forcing a laugh from you. “Why would you do that?”

“I have this tradition where whenever I’m in a new place, I always sleep in the living room on the first night. It’s good luck.”

“Whatever you say.” His lips pulled back into an unconvinced smirk. “Well, yeah, you live here now too, so you can sleep wherever you’d like.”

He disappeared into his room for only a moment before popping his head back out, fingers wrapped around the door frame.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

You tried not to look too taken aback by the question, but you could feel your cheeks flushing warm. You raked your eyes along the couch, entirely positive that there wasn’t enough space for the two of you to lay out on it together fully - at least, not without being pressed flush against one another. However, his face looked innocent and soft - not a single tint of mischief colored across his features.

“Yeah, that-. I guess that’s okay,” you agreed sheepishly with a shrug. “But I’m not sure we’ll both fit if I’m being honest.”

He frowned questioningly at you, his brows lacing together until he realized what you thought he meant. His face instantly turned a light shade of pink to match yours. “No, no,” he quickly assured in between a breathy laugh. “I’m not going to sleep with you - I’ll take the recliner.”

“Oh, right.” You gave a nervous laugh of your own, cursing yourself out in your head for being so dull.

You were still well embarrassed as you made a nest of blankets on the couch and he brought out a pillow for you when you realized yours were still tucked deep in your bag of bedding. When each of you was situated on your respective pieces of furniture, he flicked the light off with a comfortable sigh.

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice taking on a tone that was far too smug for your liking. “You were awfully quick to agree to sleep next to me. You don’t have a crush on me, do you?”

You knew he was teasing, but your heart rate still managed to pick up under the pressure. You had never been particularly good with awkward social situations; you rolled your eyes in the dark, thankful he couldn’t see how red you were. “No, Josh. I do not have a crush on you.”

“Okay,” he said through a melodic laugh, and you got the feeling that he’d gotten the reaction he was aiming for from you. “Should we be best friends though?”

You snorted a laugh of your own, wanting to be annoyed at how likable he was, but falling short. “You are the most peculiar person I’ve ever met, I think.” You curled up, clutching your blanket tight to your body. “But yes. We can be friends.”

“Okay, cool - I’ll order matching t-shirts for us.” You could hear the pleased grin he was wearing, making you feel warm and cozy. You pulled the worn blanket up to your chin.

“See to it that you do.”

Author’s Note: okay, I hope you guys like it! please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list or removed from it. I’m using the same taglist from my Jake!fic, so no hard feelings if you don’t want to be tagged!

#josh fic #josh kiszka fic #josh x reader #joshxreader #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #brightest blue fic

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