#which is fine. but again. not popular when it comes to making your techs think you care about their work/life balance at all

[clowndensation]

work updateeee <3

our ceo wanted to do a ride along with one of our techs. they got into a fight because that tech essentially said that he's been doing this job for 10 years, and he doesn't want someone who has never been in the field telling him how he should do his work. so now he's riding along with me (the most agreeable tech we have atm lmao).

anyways i spent the last half of my day going over everything with him, and in that time i've discovered that one of the new sop's we're following was made by chatgpt, one of the other changes we're making I didn't know how to implement, and so we couldn't do it because our ceo doesn't know how to do it either, and the big overhaul isn't ready yet, so now i have to go into the shop an hour and a half early to prepare it tomorrow.

[desceros]

headcanon: donnie is very finicky about his appearance actually

he pays attention to his clothes. how they fall on him. how the patterns match. if they catch his eye pleasingly or if they clash and he needs to change them. he cares a lot about fashion, but not in a Pays Attention To What's Popular way; he cares in a I Have My Style And I Will Adhere To It Under The Penalty Of Death way. i think about the way he makes a logo for his tech when he's a kid. it's trademarked he says of his brand. he cares about how things look. how his name is attached to things. appearances matter.

(it's common in the animal kingdom too, he consoles himself, looking into the mirror and tugging at his new shirt before going to see you. birds. fish. it's just biology. so he's interested. it's fine. natural. not extra at all. he just wants to look good. put on a good show. convince your eyes to land on him.)

this translates over when he starts courting you hard. plucking at your outfits and complimenting your choices. giving you suggestions when he comes into your room and his eyes finally slide off where you're lounging and into your closet. he asks if he can take a look inside. opens it up, thumbs through, muttering to himself. he'll pull together things you never thought to put together, and huh. that looks. really really good actually. thanks, donnie. giving him a sparkling smile that makes him look away because it's too bright to look into directly.

it starts then. before you're dating, when you're just... something. a question mark. a potential. you see him while you're walking down the street. he's looking into the glass storefronts, but the items inside don't seem to make any cogent sense or slide into one particular category. shoes. technology. dresses. flower arrangements. the items all over the place, not anything you can use to try and guess what he may want to his birthday coming up, which is annoying since you kinda want to spoil him a little.

(it's not until years later, seeing it again, curled beneath a possessive arm at a crosswalk, that you ask what that's all about. only then that he tells you he is admiring how the two of you look next to each other: fashionable, complimentary, coordinated;

fitting together just. right.)

[katanablue]

I originally had a totally different idea for this but I think I may just do a part 2 hehehe. ALSO IF ANYONE GOT ANY GOOD 07 DONNIE FICS ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Warnings: NONE JUST DONNIE BEING A CUTE GRUMPY DORK.

Another day another long boring shift full of talking to idiotic people who don’t know the difference between hardware and software and explaining to one too many elderly people that ‘No, you cannot print out the Internet.’

He’s just finished a call, rubbing the space between his eyes as he feels his daily headache come on. He’s impressed that he’s managed to nearly finish his workday without it appearing until now. He groans low in his throat, debating on getting up to grab a glass of water so he can take a pill or just sucking it up these last 30 minutes.

He gets his answer when an incoming call rings through his headset, making Donnie roll his eyes hard and into the back of his skull. He inhales deeply through his nose to prepare himself, letting it out when he clicks on a key to answer the phone.

“Thank you for calling tech support, this is Donatello speaking, how can I help you today.” He doesn’t bother putting on his customer service voice, his headache dully throbbing now as he waits for the other person on the line to start rambling about their dumb issue.

“Hi, how are you today?” You say, giving the standard pleasantries before delving into your computer issue.

Typical, of course his last call would try to make small talk.

“I’m fine ma’am, thank you. How can I help you today?” He repeats it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again and leans back in his chair, swaying gently side to side. He thinks about what he should eat after, his eyes trailing to the clock in the Lair that signifies in big red letters that it’s nearly 2 a.m. Not the latest he’s stayed up but today’s shift was particularly exhausting. Maybe it’s the full moon or something, ‘Mercury in Gatorade’ as Mikey would sometimes call it.

“Hello?”

Shit. He totally just fucking zoned out on you.

“Apologies ma’am, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?” Great, he just extended this call by about 2 minutes.

“Oh, that’s alright! I’m dealing with an issue with my laptop’s ability to open programs fast. It’s taking forever just to open something and I’m not quite sure why.” You repeat your issue, quietly sighing as you aimlessly move your mouse around your screen, hoping that the guy on the other side will be able to help with you.

Donnie immediately knows what the problem could be; slow processing speeds a fairly common issue for him but thankfully an easy fix.

So he starts by asking the standard questions: do you have any programs that take a lot of space? Any tabs open that you aren’t using? Anything running in the background?

When you tell him ‘no, no and no’, that’s when he sits up from his chair and squints his eyes. If those aren’t the cause of your laptops slow speed then what could it be?

“Well,”

Ah, there it is.

“I do play a few games but those have never caused me problems before. Could that be it?”

Normally Donatello’s irritation would increase when the customer would ‘suddenly remember’ something that could be pausing their problem. You, however? Didn’t spark that within him for some reason. In fact, besides your calm demeanor, it’s the way you spoke so kindly to him combined with the fact that you also game apparently that has Donnie not wanting to snap at you.

“Like what?” He asks, being sure to keep it professional.

And when you list his all time favorite game among some others that he’s obsessed with, he has to practically force himself to not totally geek out. Sure he’s played some of the popular games nowadays like League or Valorant, but hearing you say that you modded some old PS1 games to play on your laptop practically skyrockets his excitement.

Which in turn makes his headache pound harder.

He’s unable to keep himself from hissing when a pang shoots right through his skull, knowing you heard it when you trail off your sentence.

“Are you alright?”

Maybe it’s because he’s had a long day or maybe it’s because this seems to be shifting into a migraine, but the concern and sincerity in your voice makes an odd feeling bubble in Donnie’s chest. Surely no one would ever be genuinely worried over an I.T guy, not when you have more pressing matters on your hands.

“My apologies miss, I’m just uh, dealing with a bit of a headache right now. Although I think it’s turning into a migraine.” He grunts through his clenched jaw, swinging carefully around in his chair as he searches for his bottle of Advil only to suck his teeth when he shakes the container and hears absolutely nothing rattling around.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! Do you want to go grab some medicine? I don’t mind waiting.”

The corner of Donnie’s lip twitches upward. He brings his hands to massage at his temples, the motions doing something to relieve the tension in his head but not nearly enough.

“I unfortunately just discovered that I’m out of medicine. But that’s alright, I’ll pick some up after this call.” He doesn’t bother hiding his sigh, settling back in his seat as he prepares to ask you more questions to help you out.

“What about any oils? Got any of those? Usually lavender or peppermint do the trick.” You put him on speaker and go to your Safari on your phone to begin looking up other remedies, wanting to assist this poor I.T man.

Donnie’s not quite sure why you’re trying to be helpful but at this point he doesn’t exactly care, the throbbing getting worse by the second.

“It could also be too much pressure, literally, around your head. Do you wear headbands or anything like that? Could also be your headphones.”

“No, no headbands. And my headphones have cushioning all around so not those either.” He responds, debating on texting Mikey to bring him the peppermint oil that April bought for Splinter last Christmas.

“Ah, a man of comfort.” You laugh, fingers quickly typing in your question into the search engine.

Donnie finds himself smiling faintly at the sound, a fleeting thought of ‘Wow, I want to hear that again’ passing through his brain.

“Well, I can’t use regular headphones for gaming. I’m also a fan of those games that you play.”

You blink in surprise, your scrolling faltering for half a second before continuing on.

“No way, really?”

And so you talk for the next 20 minutes about said games; reliving memories, talking about specific moments you wish you could experience again, the soundtracks, the characters. Everything.

For the first 10 minutes, Donnie kept reminding himself that he was just prolonging his work call, that he should drive the focus back onto your issue so he can hang up and clock out. But the more he talked to you, the more he said ‘fuck it’ and allowed himself this one rare moment of normalcy.

He also nearly forgot about his raging migraine, until it pleasantly reminded him that it was still present with a sharp stabbing pain behind his eyes.

It’s what snaps him back to reality, his face grimacing from the white hot torment happening in his skull.

“I’m so sorry, we should really get back to your computers issues.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

God, why did he feel so awful saying that? And why did it make his stomach twist when hearing just how disappointed you sounded? It’s something he’ll have to dissect later, not when he’s already 30 minutes past the standard call time for support.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here.”

This is one of the rare times Donnie wishes he wasn’t so smart with technology because in less than 5 minutes he solves your problem. He wishes he could just be a little average to talk to you more even if it’s computer stuff.

“Alright, you shouldn’t have a problem anymore. Anything else I can help you with?”

Please say yes please say yes please say yes.

“No, I’m all good. Thank so much Donatello!”

“Donnie! You can call me Donnie.”

Fuck.

“Just your friendly I.T tech support here to help you 24 hours a day.”

Double fuck.

Why did he say that? It’s standard spiel protocol but still, how utterly lame…

You can’t help but giggle at him, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much from this total stranger.

“Alright then, Donnie. I’ll know who to ask for if I ever need help again.”

He smiles and asks for your name, just so he’ll know who he’s talking to if you ever do call again. He repeats it back to you once you tell him, the word rolling off his tongue in such a way that makes you feel giddy and grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“Have a good night, please don’t hesitate to call back if you’re still experiencing technical difficulties.”

And by Darwin he hopes you do.

[sitp-recs]

hi :) i simply adore your blog and your fic recs are so spot on, you’ve made me fall back in love with drarry and hp. I rly love reading a fic before I go to sleep but I end up picking a 70k word one and end up staying up much longer than I wanted to so could you possibly recommend me any fics max 15k words, with a happy ending pls i need the cuteness to help me sleep 🥰 Thanku so so much xx

Hi anon! Thanks so much, I’m thrilled to know I had a small part in making you fall back in love with Drarry, that’s amazing! And what a mood lol I used to pick long fics before bed too, it’s a mighty trap 😂 I’ve read many short fics in the last year so I decided to go for these delightful and not-as-popular shorts, with excellent build up and happy endings. Perfect bedtime reads in my opinion! I got a bit too excited with this list so I’ll call it 31 Bedtime Reads! One for each day of the month ;) enjoy!

The Long Fall by @tackytigerfic (2021, M, 3.6k)

It's supposed to be a simple house renovation, and maybe it's just the paint fumes, but Harry is feeling dizzy around Draco Malfoy. And what's the real meaning of family, anyway?

oxygen by @maesterchill (2020, T, 4k)

Draco doesn’t smoke. Except when he needs to breathe.

A Charitable Christmas by Alisanne (2017, E, 5.6k)

Hermione’s plans to raise money for war orphans do not meet with Harry’s approval. Fortunately, Draco steps in to help him come up with a much more enjoyable strategy.

Harmony (Left-Handed Melody Remix) by mindabbles (2010, M, 5.8k)

He is the last person Draco was expecting, but then again, this is not a place Draco ever expected to be.

Vintage by momatu (2017, T, 7k)

Of all of the vineyards, in all of the regions, in all of France, Draco's blasted editor sends him to Potter's...

Our Ordinary Days by Lomonaaeren (2012, M, 8k)

Two men, both fathers of sons, meet in a bookshop. And the rest is the kind of history that doesn't make history.

Ice Snakes, Glow-worms and Wolverine Stew by khalulu (2015, M, 8.4k)

Harry Potter apparently wants to talk to Draco about something, but odd events keep getting in the way of that conversation – and bringing them closer together.

The Page Eleven Wars by fireflavored (2010, E, 8.5k)

In a gossip-hungry post-war Wizarding World, Rita Skeeter has a wildly successful column in the Daily Prophet known as Page Eleven. Naturally, her favourite targets are the poster boys of the two sides of the war: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter.

Blind Date by JosephineStone (2016, T, 8.6k)

Draco’s been working with Harry for years when another one of his relationships goes stale. He has to be married within a year, and though the WizNet has burned him in the past, Draco finds a new possibility in man as desperate to marry as he is.

Stories in E Minor by @huldrejenta (2014, E, 8.7k)

Draco has found his place in the Muggle world. He's got his music, he's got his neighbours and he is content. Until a certain someone from the past enters his life again.

Life goes not backward by @shealwaysreads (2020, T, 8.8k)

Harry still isn’t used to gifts, but this one is different. A story of coming home, finding safe ground, and the wild courage of putting down roots.

Til Our Compass Stands Still by china_nightingale (2018, M, 9k)

Harry and Draco eventually realise that things don't always go to plan, even if it's a plan they've been carefully crafting to keep themselves safe from each other.

The Interest Here by disapparater (2015, T, 9k)

Draco has his own morning show on the wireless, which he loves; an ambitious assistant, whom he needs; and days in The Tea Shop, where he relaxes. He also has a new caller on the show, whom he finds bloody annoying.

Tidings of Comfort series by @blamebrampton (2012, G, 10k)

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover.

Sweet Indulgence by @the-sinking-ship (2020, E, 10k)

It doesn't matter that Marcy from Accounting is dancing on the tables, Shacklebolt is wearing antlers, and Elliot from Transportation is on his third round of Mariah Carey on karaoke because all the free champagne in the world won't salvage the Ministry Christmas party for Draco if Potter doesn't show up soon.

Settle in in my slow-burning heart by orphan_account (2015, NR, 10k)

Five years after the war Draco is working a tech developer job in the Auror Office, and it's all great except this one thing: Harry Potter works there, too.

Adventures in Truth and Texting by @fluxweeed (2020, E, 11k)

Former Death Eaters are being targeted with a Veritaserum curse – it’s permanent, and makes victims speak aloud their every thought. Luckily, it’s easier to control when writing.

fine i'll hold my breath / til i forget it's complicated by teatrolley (2015, NR, 11k)

Harry and Draco become friends with benefits, and Harry thinks it's more complicated than it actually is.

Rebuilding Draco Malfoy by khasael (2011, E, 11k)

Draco wants to do something to get his life back on track, but no-one seems to be taking him seriously – until he finds himself in an Auror training session led by Harry Potter.

Cold Like Fire by QueenofThyme (2012, M, 12k)

Head Auror Harry Potter had no problem with mandatory consent training for his team. He’d actually been looking forward to it, that is, until he discovered who the teacher was.

What’s My Age Again? by @lazywonderlvnd (2018, E, 12k)

Harry Potter has had enough of pleasing the public, and his reckless tendencies are finally getting out of hand.

Title of Their Sex Tape by @cibeewastaken (2020, T, 12k)

What are the Wizarding world's most elite law enforcers doing when they aren't catching criminals? It seems Auror Malfoy is often caught throwing food into Auror Potter's mouth when he's mid-yawn.

Kill, Fuck, Marry by @lettersbyelise (2018, E, 12.6k)

Harry and Draco unexpectedly meet again on Draco’s birthday, years after their last encounter.

The Year of Non-Magical Thinking by whiskyandwildflowers (2018, E, 13k)

“I don't know what I'm going to do, Potter. I'll think of something. So will you. But this is my journey to self-actualization," Draco managed to smirk. "You can fuck off and get your own."

Evolution by @potteresque-ire Pie (2013, M, 13k)

Draco Malfoy was condemned to live a Muggle’s life for his three-year probation. His wand was locked away, and he was forbidden to set foot in Wizarding Britain until Hermione Granger secured a job for him in the Aurors’ stock room.

Plan Alphabet by @xx-thedarklord-xx (2019, T, 14k)

After realizing that his feelings for Harry were unfortunately real, Draco embarks on a foolproof—yes, Longbottom, foolproof—plan to woo Potter.

Countdown by dysonrules (2013, M, 14k)

When the Wizarding world is plagued by random outbreaks of Dark Magic, the Ministry assigns Curse-Breakers to assist Auror teams on their missions.

All Roads Lead Home by @dracogotgame (2015, G, 15k)

Draco is strong-armed into spending the first Christmas after the War with the Weasleys. And Harry Potter.

Espresso Patronum by @tasteofshapes (2020, T, 15k)

When Draco reappears five years after the war and opens a wildly popular coffee shop, Harry’s pretty sure that Draco’s Up to Something. He just has to prove it.

An Act of Kindness for One Harry Potter by a Sympathetic Draco Malfoy by 0idontknow0 (2014, E, 15k)

Someone should give Potter a better rogering than that sorry sod had. The man had saved the bloody world—okay, mostly Europe—the least someone could do was give him a proper shag.

Turn and Face the Strange (time may change me) by @punk-rock-yuppie (2019, T, 16k)

Draco and Harry and how their relationship—and themselves—change over the course of eleven years.

[warmcookiepuff]

BEING BESTIES W/ SOME JJK CHARACTERS; Yuuji, Megumi, Nobara, Gojou and Sukuna.

Notes: Look. I know we all simp terribly for our husbandos/waifus but I just wanted to write a simple hc about what it's like to be their besties

Warning(s): slight cursing. I indulged too much on Sukuna.

Includes: gn! reader, fluff, chaotic energy, mentions of romance (just light)

Itadori Yuji

He's friends with everyone, says hi to strangers and probably would be besties with every old lady he meets so it wasn't hard to be friends with him.

But the second he becomes besties with you, shit's gonna get borderline chaotic.

3AM and y'all can't sleep? McDonald's parking lot with an abandoned shopping car would sound damned fine. You both remember the moment as 'Chicken Nuggies and the Wind' since he t-posed on the moving cart whilst eating nuggies (you both almost scratched a Ferari).

If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer in training, he'd still try to sneak you in his room to watch some movies. You with the snacks, leaving Yuji in charge of the movie picking (you can't decide to save your life)

Cuddles! Nothing wrong with besties cuddling. He's extremely respectful to your s/o (if you have one) and are probably good friends with them too!

Though the second you come to him crying, they were already being patched up in the hospital. Won't hit a woman, against his morals, but he will make sure she never speaks to you again.

Understanding, chaotic besties! An arm around your shoulder when someone's obviously making you uncomfortable, he's the one barking when he sees someone slip something into your drink.

The friend to help you find your way out of a frat house. Makes sure you're getting touched with your consent and sober. All you need to do is give him a sign that you're alright and he'll give you a thumbs up before leaving.

Definitely the friend you'd open up to (about anything) and not be treated differently after so.

You told him about your problems a few minutes prior. It was quiet, a bit too quiet. And you were worried he might leave you for it.

"Ey, Y/N. Wanna go to McDonald's again? I think they have that burger you like," He blurts, catching you off guard. You raise your eyebrows before smiling gratefully.

"Sounds great, Itadori."

You guys talk about women with butts all the time. Not out of thirst or anything, it would just be a random thought that comes up and one of you would contribute to the other. You once mentioned something about Jennifer Lawrence and he would not stop talkinf about her. It was hilarious how much he was drooling.

You wear his hoodies and he's fine with it. Thinks you look good in them. Sukuna teases you both about your relationship and Yuji slaps his mouth shut before he says anything more.

"You look great in them, Y/N," Itadori grins, rummaging through his closet to find more hoodies.

"Thank you. They're pretty comfy," You mention the fabric and the fluffiness. He listens to you intently before Sukuna pops out from his cheek.

"Ehhh? This is the one you think about everyday--," Itadori has never slapped his cheek so hard before in his life.

Megumi Fushiguro

Honestly, pretty chill dude.

He has a small group of people he trusts, and a smaller one to which he considers to be his good friends.

So to be his best friend, you must've gained a huge amount of respect from him; saved him, maybe even overheard something you shouldn't have and kept quiet about it on your own accord.

You would have a 'you aren't comfortable with it, so I'm not forcing anything' vibe to which he would be relieved to know. Though even so, you are the more hyper one in the platonic relationship.

Outings would consist of trips to libraries or quiet nights on the couch with your legs entangled together with lo-fi music playing in the background.

Not much talking, Megumi likes to keep to himself and you have no problem with the comfortable silence you both bring together.

Though sometimes it gets too quiet so you annoy the hell out of him to get his attention; cheek poking, soft arm punches, slight pushing.

Megumi ignores this, finding your actions a bit cute. If it gets too annoying, he will get up and leave, having you trail behind him, whining like a child wanting candy.

Yuji would join in. Definitely. Nobara too if she was bored enough.

"Megumi~ I want your attention~," You whine, running after the raven-haired man.

"Yeah! Yeah! Pay attention to Y/N!" Yuji supports you. You clap your hands together, only to be hit with a shoe by Megumi.

He would never do anything outside of your comfort zone. If you had an s/o, they both would be neutral with each other.

If you were to get hurt from said s/o, they would leave your house with a bloody knuckle. He wouldn't hit a girl, but he definitely will destroy whatever life she has outside of your relationship with her.

Parties are a no-go for him, unless his friends force him to. He's the designated driver with three other drunk children (Hint; Yuuji, Nobara and you). He wouldn't carry anyone else but you back to your room.

"Jeez, Y/N. You should know how to handle your alcohol," Megumi sighs, laying you on top of your bed gently and pulling the covers up.

"Nngh. Didn't know it was alcohol," You groaned. He smiles, patting your cheek before getting up to leave.

"I'll get you some painkillers in the morning, alright?"

You can wear his sweatshirts if you annoy him about it (he secretly likes how comfortable you are around him). He thinks you look charming in them, Yuji never shuts up about your friendship. It's the few times he's seen Megumi genuinely smile.

Nobara Kugisaki

Radiates bad bitch energy.

It isn't easy in the first stages since she has standards with friends but the second you both find something similar about each other, it's an immediate ride-or-die friendship.

You would need a major backbone, 'I'm too hot for this bs' kinda vibe (it's canon that the reader is a bad bitch, periodt). You would have arguments with her but it's pretty basic stuff like the perfect colour for nailpolish or whether Maki deserves the Earth or the universe (you both agree it's the universe).

Outings consists of shopping malls and popular cafes. You take selfies everytime you see something relatively new.

Talk about anything under the sun -- newest trends, new food to try out, Maki -- but her favourites are hearing you talk about your day. If you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer, she'd visit your apartment, give you a hug and sit on the couch to listen to you blabber away about something that isn't related to curses or death. She needs time to rewind and you never mention how vulnerable she looks when she's tired.

"Uh-huh and what happens next?" Nobara asked, carressing your hair as you lay on her lap.

"He wouldn't stop following us! It was so creepy! No means no right? Like why would you waste your energy following a group of friends who aren't interested?" You ranted on. Nobara simply nods in agreement, smiling at your annoyed face.

She doesn't mind your s/o, probably would just say hi before leaving you two alone. She doesn't have a problem about her friends having a relationship, she does, however, gets pissed that she isn't in one.

If you come to her crying about them, she would slither in some 'fuckin told you they were gonna do it' or 'I told you so'. Though it makes you upset, you know she's gonna trash their house the second you leave the room.

Your (now) ex would suddenly be cancelled beyond belief, you wouldn't know what happened to them.

Despite the bad bitch personality, you are the more patient one.

Parties is a yes. She comes in as a self-confident woman and will leave self-confident and drunk. She's the life of the party and pulls you into conversations to keep you company. Even if you don't contribute much to the conversation, she makes sure you aren't out of her sight. She's not the type to bring a friend to a party and leave them the second after. She cares about you even if her way of showing was a bit too pushy.

You share clothes with her and she'll give you comments about it.

"The shirt doesn't fit. No, no. The other one. Yeah, that one."

"Who cares if people say you aren't supposed to wear skirts? Your ass rocks better in those than mine. Just take them."

Personally likes dressing you up, doesn't like dressing you up for dates though. Still doesn't know why.

Gojou Satoru

God, the willpower you have to even tolerate this man is immense.

It's not hard to be his friend, all you have to do is do something that amuses him and he'll keep teasing you about it.

In this platonic relationship, you're the more calm one. People call you to take care of Gojou constantly, and you're the only one he allows to scold him.

He goes for missions half the time so it's rare to see you both go for outings. The most you've been together outside of Jujustu Tech and work hours was in a bar with Nanami (you both bond over the fact that Gojou is terrible to work with). He got too drunk and started slurring his words.

"Y/N~ stohp flirting with Nanamin and talk to meee," He whines, pinching your cheeks as you sigh.

"We are simply talking about your bad work habits, Satoru," Nanami answers whilst shaking his head, downing another drink before he gets up to leave. "I'll take him home, rest well Y/N."

"Noooo, I want Y/N!"

A needy best friend. Constantly asks for attention. If you ignored him, he would only make the situation slightly more annoying -- similar to Megumi's Y/N, the basic cheek poking and whining.

Your s/o would probably hate him, he's a bit too flirty and likes to hug you in public. People mistake you both for a couple rather than the s/o at hand. Don't be surprised if it's the main reason your relationships don't end well.

If you come to him upset because of them, he wouldn't waste a second to zoom to your shared apartment and 'deal' with the person. Would come back with a smile and some takoyaki. No blood on him since he used his infinity.

Parties are alright with him. He's the cool flirty dude everyone seems to fawn over. Would accompany you for half an hour, only to leave with another chick to a nearby bedroom. You never end up partying with him after opening the God forsaken door and he's never stopped trying to make it up to you.

Other than the traumatic event, he'd a bit of a douche but still tries to look for you in the crowd. He waves once he sees you and flashes a reassuring smile before continuing his talk with the others.

You don't share clothes with him simply because it's Gojou. Who knows when the last time he washed his clothes.

Though he's willing to share. You're just more reluctant, really. Finds it cute when his shirts are slightly bigger than you. If you're built bigger than he is, he would like how tight it looks on your body.

"Starting to think you look better in my clothes than I am. And that's a pretty good compliment." He grins.

Hates the fact you never take his compliments seriously. Says it from the bottom of his heart, he really thinks you're charming.

Ryomen Sukuna

God, was it hard trying to befriend this curse of a man. An asshole, he stuck his feet out to trip you over multiple times before cackling like a damned demon (which he is).

Though you're always genuine with him. You liked having conversations with him and listen to him boast about himself for hours. Guess that's when he saw you as a close acquaintance.

Would never tell you you're his best friend. Never. Not once. Him simply acknowledging you was enough for everyone to know he favored one person.

Being friends with Sukuna meant being friends Yuji. Itadori always apologizes on his behalf and you would always laugh, telling him it's alright. Sukuna gets annoyed by this though.

"Stupid human. Who do you think you are being all mush with this useless vessel of mine?" He sneered the second he could pop out. You shrugged, taking some popcorn to feed him.

"He's a pretty good guy. You should cut him some slack," You answered, stuffing some popcorn to your face as well

Will constantly threaten to kill you but you never paid heed. You know you're his only friend. You don't agree with his actions but you find the curse interesting.

Literally the only person who's allowed to tease him. You get away with things most curses would get killed from. You once hand him super hot sauce for his pancakes and he glared at you for the remainder of his time being conscious in Yuji's body. You found the plate broken with a fork stabbed through it.

You aren't allowed to go on outings with Sukuna (obviously) so you both spend your time within Yuji's room. Not allowed to go out since everyone'll freak out seeing Yuji with tattoos resembling the King of Curses.

"Humans are so boring," Sukuna groaned, his head on the bedstand. "All they do is just sit around doing nothing but scroll through their stupid boxes." You smiled at him.

"Not my fault you commit mass genocide for fun. I'd say we're pretty passive."

He would literally never care about your love life. Still has the old man mentality that romance meant sex and that was about it. If they were to meet, the curse would just roll his eyes and turn the other way.

Getting hurt by your s/o results to hurtful teasing and bloodshed. No in-between, no nothing. He wouldn't know how to comfort you properly so he'd send Yuji in his place. Would sit at the back of Yuji's mind getting pissed that he was hugging and rubbing your back gently as if he couldn't have done it himself (literally sent Yuji only to judge him).

Not allowed to go out so parties is also a no-go BUT since this is just a headcanon, let's imagine it's college AU.

College AU Sukuna would love parties -- he throws them, orders his friends to invite hot girls and frat guys. And invites you himself. No one would know you were friends since he never mentions it but will literally choke anyone who looks at you like you're a piece of candy.

Gets way too drunk and probably have railed 3 people to cloud 9 in a matter of 2 hours but still go out just to check up on you. He doesn't necessarily care but he hates having the sick feeling that you were in possible danger somewhere he wouldn't be able to see you.

Stare at you for a good 3 seconds before leaving you alone. You'd never know he was there.

Clothes! His clothes are Yuji's and he barely even keeps his shirts in tact. Does he care whether you wear it or not? No.

Is he pissed? Slightly.

This took me two days, I'm not sure if it sounds canon anymore. Anyways, thank you for reading!

♡︎ literate-simp

[thegirlwhobrokeintothetardis]

Tricked Into It (Greg Gerwitz x Reader)

Word Count: 1,957

Pairing: Greg Gerwitz aka Mouse x Reader

Summary: Ever since your last breakup with someone who cheated and abused the love you had for them, you have been wary of dating. And it doesn’t help when your friend Kim Burgess won’t stop pestering you about some cute techie guy at the 21st District.

Warnings: talk of bad relationship (cheating, emotional abuse, PTSD from the relationship), descriptions of what might be an anxiety attack (I described feeling anxious but it ended up bordering on what could have almost been an attack.)

A/N: So I am working on a Kelly Severide Imagine, but I’m a but stuck on it so I came up with the idea that I take the last imagine I wrote, the other Mouse Imagine and make it into a little series of one shots, mainly cause I wanted to explore the relationship of Mouse and this librarian!reader. So this is a sort of prequel to the first Mouse imagine, how they first met which is talked about in the other imagine.

HERE is the first Librarian!Reader fic if you want to check it out!!

If you want to be added to my tags, just ASK!!

“Kim, I swear to god!”

You slammed your book shut with a snap and looked up at the Chicago police officer, aka Kim Burgess aka your best friend, in front of you. She looked almost as annoyed as you felt, rolling her eyes and sitting down on your couch across you in your reading chair. Kim had come over after her shift at the 21st District ended, and only after a couple of minutes of peace, Kim started up on her latest crusade; your love life.

“Y/N...”

“No! I get that you care, believe me, but I don’t need you trying to set me up with someone.” You said with a heavy sigh. 

Kim scooted closer to you and leaned forward, trying to catch your eye which was avoiding hers, “Hey,” She paused and waited for you to look her in the eye, “I just want you to be happy. And I think this guy is a good match for you. Much better than -”

“Don’t say their name.”

“...Fine. But Mouse is so your type!”

You were about to start arguing again when her words actually registered into your head, “His name is Mouse? There is no way that this cop’s name is Mouse.”

“Okay one, he isn’t a cop. He is a tech expert that works with Intelligence, a civilian hired by the unit and the department. And two, Mouse is just what everyone calls him, its a nickname from when he was younger.” Kim explained.

“Tech guy?” 

“Yeah, crazy smart when it comes to hacking and stuff like that. He got the job after hacking into Voight’s cell phone in like a couple of seconds. And he was in the Rangers with Jay, plus he is pretty funny and cute.”

You looked away from Kim as you thought it through. Clearly Kim was just looking out for you, but there was no way this guy, this super-smart-tech-genius-ex-ranger, could ever be interested in someone like you. You were just a simple librarian at Chicago Public Library, living alone aside from your cat companion, Geraldine. You hadn’t done anything extraordinary with your life, and as your thought process started to spiral in an anxious tizzy, you started to shake your head.

“No, no I can’t see this guy. He wouldn’t want to get stuck with some boring librarian.” You said, your body shrinking in on itself as your self confidence crumbled. All the comments your ex significant other made to you while you were still dating came popping up into your mind one after the other after the other. Comments on your weight, your looks, how you were boring and that was why they stepped out and cheated on you any chance they could. Tears were misting in your eyes and you tried blinking them away, not wanting to cry in front of Kim.

“Y/N-”

“I mean it Kim. Drop it.”

Kim looked you over and saw how you had retreated into yourself, clearly looking uncomfortable with the topic. That’s when she sighed and nodded, forcing a small smile on her face, “Okay.”

                                                        ---

A week has passed since the confrontation with Kim about that techie guy, and you were slowly trying to purge the whole instance from your head and get back to your quiet life. Every once in a while, the conversation would slide to the forefront of your mind, along with your anxiety-fueled spiral about your ex, and you would try and shake away the ordeal. It had made you feel small and disgusting thinking about your ex and how your self worth was diminished because of them, and you never wanted to go back to that place again. Even if that meant never being in another relationship again.

On Friday, you had gotten a text from Kim around midday about having a girl’s night and heading out to have a drink at Molly’s, this pub which had become pretty popular with the cops of the Intelligence Unit. You had been once before, and one of the owners, Gabbie Dawson, was really nice to you when Kim introduced her. So you agreed, excited to go out and hang out with Kim. 

Once you got out of work around 6, you got back to your small one bedroom apartment and fed Geraldine before retreating to your room to figure out what to wear. You settled on a pair of slender black pants and a long sleeved dark green blouse matched with a pair of green heels. Once you showered, dried and got your hair the exact way you like it, added a little makeup and got dressed, it was time to head out and meet Kim at Molly’s. You drove to the neighborhood where the pub was, some cars already lining the streets letting you know that Molly’s would probably be busy.

You parked, and hurried to get inside, pulling your winter coat around you a litter tighter as a gust of wind tried to chill you to the bone. The November night air was lung chilling and while you weren’t dressed like those young twenty-somethings with short dresses and no coats, you still did not want to waste another second with the wind chill. Once you got in, you saw that your assumption about the pub being busy was right, many people scattered around the bar, others in groups were seated or standing next to tables against the other wall. You looked around, trying to catch Kim’s face in the crowd but having trouble with how crowded. You pealed off your coat and made your way to the bar where you saw an older man behind the counter, cleaning off a glass. 

“Excuse me?” You said, slipping into the space in front of the bar, and accidentally grazing your arm against the guy sitting down to your right, “Oh sorry.” You said quickly to the guy, not really looking in his direction so you didn’t notice when he started staring at you in awe.

“What can I get ya?” The older man said as he put the glass down and gave you his full attention.

“I know this is probably a long shot, but my friend comes to this bar a lot and I was just wondering if you’ve seen her tonight? Kim Burgess?”

“Ah! I know Burgess. From the 21st District?”

“Yeah! Yes, that’s her.”

The man smiled before turning around and grabbing something from behind the bar and then turned back to you, “I haven’t seen her, but she called about 5 minutes ago saying that her friend would be stopping by tonight. She also said to get her a vodka cranberry on her and to give her this.”

He handed you a napkin and then turned away, most likely to get your drink ready. You looked down at the napkin with a rough note written on it, reading out loud the note, “Hey, something came up super last minute, have a drink on me and enjoy the night. Sorry, --Kim.”

“Sorry about that, kid.” The man said as he returned with your drink, giving you a warm smile that also had a hint of pity in it. 

“No problem. It’s not your fault.”

With one more smile he headed towards the other end of the bar, leaving you with your drink. You let out a sigh and brought the drink to your lips, trying to figure out what you were going to do next when a voice from next to you started speaking.

“You’re friends with Burgess?”

Looking over, it was the guy you had apologized to earlier. Now that you weren’t in a rush to find Kim, you got a good look at him. He had brown hair, you could almost consider it floppy-like if it didn’t also have a clean-cut feel to it. The man’s eyes were bright blue, and they looked at you with a mix of intrigue and surprise. He was wearing a blue button-up which matched his eyes, the first few buttons undone.

“Yeah, do you know her?” You asked. He nodded and looked down to his beer bottle, his fingers anxiously playing with the paper label.

“I-I work with her at the district.” He explained. “Are you one of her flight attendant friends?”

“No, god no. I’m a librarian at the Chicago Public Library.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“You don’t have to lie. I know it’s boring..”

“No! I genuinely think it’s cool. I-I mean I’m not a huge book guy myself but-but I did read a lot of Shakespeare in school and that was really cool, especially the-the one about the guy who dressed as a woman to hide from a mob or something and everyone thought he was a witch?” The guy rambled, his face flushing as he tried to save himself. You smirked at the clumsiness of his words and took a drink of your cocktail.

“The Merry Wives of Windsor?” You offered, and the guy snapped at the name.

“Yeah, yeah. The whole play now that I think about it went over my head at 16. But I was too interested in the Blackhawks and code. Like-Like the game that happened the other night, I was invested until that left winger from the Rangers totally checked Hartman and they put-”

“Hartman in the penalty box! Yes!! With only 3 minutes left on the clock and the take out the best right winger on the ice.” You jumped in, a smile growing on your face as the topic of hockey came up. “If he was still playing the Blackhawks would have got at least 2 more points and would have won instead of losing to the worst team in the league.”

The guy sputtered his drink and starts laughing, and immediately think its cause you had embarrassed yourself and he was laughing at you, not what you said. That was until he smiled at you and nodded his head. 

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

You felt a small fluttering in you chest when he smiled, something about him not making you nervous or anxious which was a change. With a smile on your own face, you put your hand out to him, “I’m Y/N by the way. Y/N L/N.”

“Greg Gerwitz.” Greg took your hand and shook it, lingering for a couple extra seconds before pulling away. “Or you can call me Mouse.”

You froze as he said that, your eyes widening in shock. He seemed to see your reaction and frowned, “Or not?”

“No, sorry.” You said quickly, trying to recover. “It-Its just that Burgess has been trying to set me up with you for the last few weeks.”

“Wait...oh! You’re that librarian! Burgess has been telling me about you too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, says how you are the best person ever and that I would like you the minute we met.” He chuckled. Greg smirked and turned more towards you, “And she wasn’t wrong.”

You flushed, feeling the heat of your blush against your cheeks as his smirk widened. It was quiet between the two of you as the pub continued with it’s noise like it wasn’t watching the start of something amazing. Greg then spoke up, getting your attention again, “Hey, I know this might seem fast but I really like talking to you.”

“I really like talking to you too.”

“Really?” He asked, his face getting red again as his smirk melted away into a nervous smile, “Well, what would you say about a date? Maybe the Blackhawks game tomorrow?”

It took quicker than you thought, but all your anxiety from the week before seemed like a long lost bad dream and you just wanted to spend some time with Greg Gerwitz.

“I would love to.”

ONE CHICAGO TAGS: @carnationworld​ 

NORMAL TAGS:  @l4life​ @ithoughtiwasflying

[lesserfandomappreciation]

Is that Supa Strikers show really that great? Would I like it even if I don’t like soccer/football? (I’m asking because I’ve never seen it. In fact, your posts are the only reason I know it exists at all.)

Okay. Okay, okay I was going to work on requests during this meeting but then I saw this and I have many feelings on this show so you're getting an essay. Buckle up son. Brief History

For those not in the know, Supa Strikas is a series from South Africa that started as a futbol-themed comic in I want to say the early 2000s. It quickly gained popularity throughout most of Africa and today is published in Latin-America, South America, Africa, some parts of Europe and Asia.

Almost every continent has this comic. You cannot tell me that isn't cool and also very telling of how many people like this series.

Seeing the comic get so popular so fast, a TV show followed up in 2009 by the same name and is still going to this day. This series has been along longer than most presidential terms.

The show had a similar story with only slight character changes, and while the entirety of the 2021 season is already out, there are signs that they may be more coming out in 2022 so. Fingers crossed!

What is it about?

The story centers around Shakes, a young futbol player who has recently joined the Supa Strikas, a team based in an unspecified African country. The comic follows the team winning the Super League during different seasons, going around the world to find out new techniques, deal with teams that cheat and overcome their own inner problems as well.

The series differs from the comics in that we don't see Shakes' journey to becoming a Supa Strika and we don't get the official names for the characters either, only their nicknames. Wikipedia has their official names listed I think, but if anyone whose read the comics wishes to tell me, by all means do so.

It's a pretty straight forward storyline, with some good story consistency (characters who appear in one episode do show up again and are given consistent writing). Very episodic.

Why should I watch the series?

The series is fun. Sincerely, un-apologetically fun.

The main characters get good screen time and we get to see some fun, decently written personalities that act off each other well. The Supa Strikas is a team of himbos but different varieties of himbos and I love them for it. You do get the feeling that this is a group of people that cares for each other, not a group of characters just shoved together because the series said so.

The side-characters are also great. Some of them are a little one-note but many of them are just as crazy, if not more fun, than the main characters of the show. There's an American dude named Ninja whose entire gimmick is that he's a reality star fame-seeking dude straight out of Las Vegas and I love him. He's one of the tamer character concepts.

Coach. That is all.

There's a vast array of diverse representation. While the Supa Strikas team is the only team is they only team of mixed nationalities (South African, Jamaican, Brazilian, Spanish, etc) every team is representing a different country. There's a Brazilian Team, a Mexican Team, a Saudi Arabian Team and many others.

In connection - the Supa Strikas have players from around the world. Dancing Rasta is Jamaican, the captain of the team, an incredibly competent leader and very down-to-earth. You do have players that are a little stereotypical (North Shaw is an Australian who loves extreme sports, shocker) but are written in ways that you find yourself not minding.

It's funny. There's a lot of good moments both in writing and in the animation. As someone who got to study animation, I can say without a shadow of doubt that the team behind the character animations had no fear in pushing what they can do and making the characters feel fun.

Some of the stereotypes used in the show are used well and are written in a fairly respectful way. El Matador, a Spanish player, fills the stereotype of being a self-absorbed Spaniard. but he's also written to care for friends and to be very competent in other areas. Plus, there are other Spanish characters like Riano that are nothing like that and have distinctly different personalities. As a Spaniard, I found this to be a good writing choice. These jokes are seen less as insults and more like friendly barbs between most countries and it doesn't detract from the show.

The technology. It's a running gag that the tech used to train the guys is progressively more outrageous.

No forced romance storylines! There's no character moment where boy meets girl and then we're stuck watching this inevitable couple find reasons to not be a couple. It's nice to not have the forced hetero-normative relationships we see in a lot of other shows.

To that end, fantastic healthy male friendships! There's no "no homo" moment and the characters all have very good chemistry. Again, you feel like they're actually friends. They all have different dynamics too, so the friendships don't feel uniform and stale.

Good emotional moments.

Bromances for the win! Genuinely shocked there's not more fandom for it considering the sheer quantity of POSSIBILITIES of bromances and potential ships to work with.

It's 100% fine if you don't know anything about futbol. The show shows literally what matters, not every single little throw-in, and most times there's some world-breaking nonsense going on that distracts from that. There's literally an episode where the opposing team changes gravity on the the field to try and beat the Supa Strikas, the rules barely matter. I promise you, you don't need to know what "Offsides" means in order to watch.

The commentators. I love them both.

The episodes are varied in stories. There's ones about training, ones about exploring a different country, others where the opponents cheat, etc. There's an episode which is almost a murder mystery and I love it.

All the episodes can be found free online on Youtube on the official channel for the show. I love this creative team so much.

There's a lot of good writing choices!

What might I not like about the show?

Some people like episodic shows, some don't. For those in the latter category this may drive them away from Supa Strikas.

There's like. 4 female characters. I can see why they did that, but I can also see why that is upsetting (speaking as a woman who is very tired of the Smurfette principle). The humor may not be for everyone. That's more based on personality, because I think there's something for everyone, but there are jokes that I recognize fall quite flat.

In connection to that, the stereotypes. Like I mentioned earlier, the show utilizes and breaks some stereotypes very well. There's a character (Spenza) who is written to be the chubby comic relief that is also 9/10 times the guy who saves LITERALLY EVERYONE from trouble and gets recognized for it, for example. However, the entire Japanese team is a karate-based team with a Coach named Ura Giri who wears Chinese clothes despite being Japanese. The German team is just a military branch and, while funny, might be offensive depending on which German you ask. It can be detracting from the show.

There's some bad writing choices that can be rough, but they are episode centric.

What should I do?

Watch the show. Give it 2-3 episodes and if it doesn't grab you, okay! You tried! If it does, welcome! it's literally for free on youtube, Seasons 1 through the last number I can't remember. I watch it when I'm working on something because it's fun and gets me to laugh, you might watch it with a bowl of popcorn. Just do your own thing!

If you do like it though, come back, hit me up with talks and questions about it. Besides multydoodles I haven't found a lot of people who really are into it so come! Join us! One of us!

Hope this mini-essay helped out and that the show works out for you!

[minor-solemnity]

What's your favorite character from the golden trio era?

Oooh idk possibly this is an unpopular opinion - at least it was when I was like, properly in the fandom rather than where I am now which is firmly on the sidelines with my hands over my ears and ignoring everything that I don't like - but Cho Chang. This is probably in part because she got so much undeserved hatred (thank u fandom and author racism) and I am predisposed to like characters that people don't like.

I find her character so heartbreakingly real in a way that I think is entirely accidental on JKR's part. I don't think JK can write women. (Plz don't hate me for that, but like, it's true.) Everything interesting about the characters we are meant to like gets sanded down and ignored in the later books - Hermione's whole thing is like, book smart but not emotionally intelligent, she wants to be right and have people know she's right more than she cares about their feelings. She thinks rules are important until they apply to her. She is ruthless and vindictive and petty. These are interesting character traits that just get completely dropped in the later books. By the time book 6 ends and book 7 starts Hermione is 'wife' and 'mother' and it's kinda sad.

I digress.

Cho's boyfriend is murdered. Cho is understandably upset and heartbroken and sad af. She tries to find comfort in Harry because Harry was there, Harry must understand. Harry can help her process. Their ways of dealing with trauma are completely opposite to each other. Cho seeks emotional vulnerability and closeness from the boy who, of all people, will understand. Harry's way of processing trauma is to ignore it. It happened, it sucks, I will never speak of it again (until all my unprocessed emotions come spilling out and I end up lashing out and getting angry). Those two ways of dealing with trauma are not going to work well together. Harry is honestly a dick towards her - she's his fantasy. She's not a real person to him. When that fantasy comes crashing down he behaves pretty awfully towards her. And if you're reading critically, you come away thinking yeah, Cho's a whiny crybaby who doesn't get Harry at all. What a bitch. When in reality, it's more like - Cho is seriously fucked up and is trying to come to terms with her grief and seek comfort in someone who she thought would get it.

Imagine being like, 16 and being isolated and sad and so fundamentally misunderstood. Imagine being 18 and your friends are dead and the boy you liked is still dead and the other boy you thought you might like is a hero and the only thing you're really known for is the mess that is your grief. Imagine that the popular consensus is that your grief is something to be ridiculed.

I tend to pick and chose which parts of the extended canon I believe in, but I believe in Cho moving to America and getting hitched to an American muggle dude. (Moving to America is probably my own headcanon actually). What would motivate her to move across the world? Grief? Wonderlust? Anger? I imagine it's all three. Idk if this is a relatable feeling to a lot of people, but I get it. I have a constant itch under my skin that tells me to move on whenever a place starts to feel too much like home. To leave. To escape. Nowhere feels like home because home is a collection of broken things. It's a hall of funhouse mirrors - the wires in your brain get mixed up. Comfort and safety become synonymous with 'i will fuck this up' and 'i don't deserve this' and 'everyone will leave'.

I want so many things for Cho. I want her name to make sense. I want her to be seen as something other than 'pretty' and 'sad'. I want her in Boston slamming Sam Adams by Sam Adams grave because she finds it funny. I want her in Boston, learning to drive a car (stick-shift because the driving instructor had made a comment about how automatics are easier to learn and she is tired of people seeing her as something weak and unable). I want her road-raging and I want her to drive across the country because why the fuck not. I want her in New York and the city is so frantic and no one looks at her and she feels so small and the lights are so bright and she thinks maybe she could disappear here and no one would ever know. I want her to find a group of women rollerskating and maybe they invite her to their roller derby group. It isn't flying, but it's fast and aggressive and she's never allowed herself to be aggressive like this before. She's not allowed herself to be angry like this before. No one else has allowed her to be angry like this before.

I want her to go to California and to go to Angel Island and I want her to understand that there have been people like her before. That she is not alone in this feeling. I want her to meet a dude who's studying for an MBA - he doesn't know who she is. Doesn't know what she is. She's just this cute girl who drinks Sam Adams even tho that's a Boston thing and they're in San Diego. He's probably a frat boy. I want him to be a frat boy who takes his degree too seriously and wakes up at like 5 because he's also a gym rat. He takes her to his boxing class. She probably cries during and hey that's okay - she has a lot of shit to work through, he can tell. He doesn't ask about it. Just says her accent is cute. Maybe she starts taking night classes, maybe she doesn't. She's weirdly technologically illiterate - she sends him postcards even though they live in the same city. She says its because her school didn't let them have phones. She's never seen a Tarintino film and that's just like... not cool. They watch True Romance on his shitty box TV in his room in his frat house and she laughs (she laughs like the violence is cathartic) when Alabama completely destroys Virgil. He looks at her and she shrugs and says 'I get it.'

She says that's she's leaving soon - doesn't know where. Probably isn't coming back and again that's... not cool. She's weird about some stuff. Won't talk about home - won't say where she's from. He should be fine with it because like, it's not as if this is anything serious and his life is pretty clearly planned out. Get an MBA, work in some start-up tech company - the internet is a thing now and god, there's money to be made. He thinks maybe that she should like, stay but she also seems like the kind of person who doesn't know how to stop running. And look, he's doing an MBA. He rushed his frat. He goes to boxing every morning without fail. He's determined. He's not good at letting the things he wants go. But he lets her go because she doesn't want to stay. One night afterwards, his frat bro says, philosophical because they're crossfaded, that maybe she can't stay. Maybe she won't let herself stay. And that... That sounds about right.

So he waits. He waits and he gets postcards with no return address - in Seattle, she tries ice hockey. In Miami, she tries surfing. He almost gets on a plane to Cincinnati because she got into a fight with some dude who made his girlfriend cry in public. Apparently, she knocked him out with a punch just the way he showed her to. It feels weirdly romantic.

I want her to write a postcard to him when she's sitting in a bar in Las Vegas and I want her to include a return address. I want him on the first flight out, because fuck his classes? She included a return address. He asks her if she's ever going to go home and she looks at him and says, 'What? To San Diego?'

[superlinguo]

Practical advice if you want to start a podcast

I wrote a post for the RED team at La Trobe with some general advice for podcasting, but I’ve found there are some recurring questions that I get about setting up a podcast. This post is here to answer those questions.

If you’re not interested in starting a podcast, but want to listen to more linguistics podcasts, I’ve got a list for you!

I last updated this post in June 2021 - if you find this post a few years after this you might want to search for some more up to date specs. I’ll continue to update this from time to time as new questions (or answers) come up.

Picture your audience

Before you make any decisions about your show, know who it is for. Your topic might be incredibly niche and have an audience in the hundreds, which is very different to a potentially larger but less engaged audience. See the classic blog post from Kevin Kelly on the power of 1000 true fans. Knowing your potential audience, where they hang out online, and how they’re likely to support you, will help your decision making. I have a self-guided slide set for refining your project before you start working on it. It’s also ok to know who you don’t want as your audience, and make choices that don’t actively include them. Do this early and clearly so people aren’t disappointed. For example, having a show with clearly noted explicit language selects away from young kids and their parents.

The length and format of your show are a product of your aims

I personally like shows in the 25-35 minute range. But, having said that, I love Shortwave, which regularly clocks in at 10 minutes, and I’m disappointed when an episode of You’re Wrong About is less than an hour.

Know your audience and the level of depth you want to explore a topic in. The frequency of episodes and the amount of time you have to prepare and edit will also affect how long episode end up. Record a few episodes first and share them with people you trust will give you good feedback.

The best interviews are conversations

Good interviews are just conversations that are intentionally lopsided, and good interviewers make the conversation feel like it’s not lopsided. Do your homework, write out some questions, and then take a step back and actually listen to the person you’re interviewing.

Anyone who has done even a few interviews has already faced most of the questions you first think of. There are some fixes for this: push through your initial brainstorming, think about the specific angles on their topic that are most relevant to your audience and (again) listen to what the person is telling you. Like many podcasting skills, good interviewing takes practice, and you can practice by staying curious about humans you interact with in any area of your life, not just your podcast guests.

Use the best mics you can, but don’t over-invest

You don’t have go and buy the fanciest tech. If you have access to a studio, great! If you don’t, then decide what your budget is. When we started Lingthusiasm, Gretchen recorded into her phone, because we were running the show on no budget and had no idea if we’d stick it out more than 6 months. When we started making money we got Gretchen a Zoom H4n to match mine. It’s still not the fanciest, but it’s rugged and adequate, especially if you make sure you’re in a closet with some blankets. Do I regret the earlier episodes of Lingthusiasm don’t sound amazing? Not as much as I would have regretted investing hundreds of dollars in a podcast that had 4 episodes.

Edit your show

Even a light edit will make the show easier for your audience to listen to, and show respect for the people you interview. I know people believe there’s an aesthetic of authenticity that comes with not editing, but all podcasting is a performance. Editing is a politeness to your audience.

Editing means a very wide range of things. You can do full production editing, including the addition of music, multiple different voice-overs and voices reading parts (e.g. getting someone else to read author quotes to bring them to life) and additional sound effects. Or you might just edit out the start and end of the recording, and any false starts and errors throughout the show. A lot of the pauses and fillers we use in conversation are designed for an audience who is in on the conversation and can reply, and can feel like they’re holding up a conversation when you’re a passive listener like a podcast audience. Many of the best conversational podcasts are given an edit to make them easier on the ears.

I use audacity to edit

Audacity is free to use. It takes a little longer to learn than something like GarageBand, but once you know how to use it, you’ll be much faster at editing. I appreciate that it has stayed pretty much the same since I started using it almost 15 years ago.

Get your levels right

Once you’ve edited your show, making sure there aren’t too many loud laughs, or your two hosts aren’t unbalanced in loudness. You’ll also need to make sure your podcast isn’t too loud or soft compared to others in people’s list. You need to regularise it. A lot of podcasts regularise to -16 LUFS. A few other numbers bounce around (-14, -18), but this is what we use and no one complains.  Audacity can’t do it. You can process a certain number of hours of audio for free each month using the web-based Auphonic. It’s great. 

There’s lots of great free music to use

You want to look for music that has a license that’s free to use. Even if you don’t plan to make money from your podcast, make sure the license includes commercial use so you don’t limit your future options. SoundCloud and YouTube have lots of options, as does Kevin MacLeod - who has created royalty-free music in a massive range of genres. 

Web hosting is different to getting your show on iTunes

We use SoundCloud to upload and share our audio. It’s fine. I have no complaints. Once you’ve uploaded a few hours of audio you’ll have to pay annually for a pro account. Anchor seems to be a good new competitor, it’s free - I assume they make money off people choosing to run ads on their podcasts. You then generate an RSS feed, which is the thing that points all the podcast players to the place you’ve uploaded your recording. You’ll then have to add your show to major podcast platforms (Apple Podcast, Google Podcast), smaller ones will pick it up from there.

It takes a few days for your show to get picked up on all the podfeeders

Launching a podcast is a bit of a mess - it will go live on your hosting site but then you’ll have to set yourself up with iTunes, Google Podcast etc. and that can take a few days to update and populate. The sites that are popular, and the process of linking into those spaces, changes often enough that you should just google advice when you’re ready to launch, and give yourself a few days. This is part of why some podcasts launch a short ‘episode 0′ or a trailer, it gets the show set up.

Transcripts should be one of the first things you fund

Not every podcast has the time or funds to make transcripts. I do think they’re important though; for people who can’t or don’t want to listen, for discoverability and for your own record when you can’t remember when you talked about a specific story. If you have any time or money and want to be taken seriously at all, this should be one of your earliest priorities. This is even more true for educational podcasts, where a transcript ensures all students can appreciate the content of your show.

You don’t neeeeed a website, but it’s handy

You can run a show using a hosting platform and some social media. Having a website does allow you to add more information about the show and yourself. The Lingthusiasm page has grown over the years as the show has; we made a page for our liveshow events, we provide a list of episodes by topic, information about our Discord community, and our marvelous wall of supporters. The website was much more minimal when we started, but compared to just having a SoundCloud it gave the show room to grow.

You probably want socials, but be selective

You need to make your podcast discoverable by people who are likely to be your audience. Social media is one way to do this, but it’s better to be actually engaging on fewer social platforms than overextend yourself. Focus on platforms that are the intersection of where your possible fans are likely to be and where you enjoy being.

Funding a podcast takes time, and takes work

There are three main revenue streams for podcasts: advertising, crowdfunding and merch. A fourth option is institutional support (through your university or business), but then you’re beholden to the funder. Whichever revenue options work for you, think about them and plan towards them early. Part of that is making sure your podcast gets in as many ears as possible. Most successful podcasts spend as much, if not more, time on marketing, audience engagement and business planning as they do podcasting (it’s just not very glamorous to admit that!).

Choose whether each episode can stand alone

Some podcasts build a narrative over multiple episodes. Others allow listeners to jump in at any point and listen in any order. Whatever you choose, make this clear to your audience. This choice is going to influence a range of choices around what information to include in the opening and closing, how topical to make the show, and how you promote your podcast. 

Seasons are a great structure to keep a podcast manageable

Regardless of whether your show runs in a sequence, planning a season with a fixed number of episodes allows you to take some time off, to maybe change some things that weren’t working, or to step away from the project with a podcast that hasn’t been left hanging.

[themusicplayedherlife]

To Love is the Greatest Gift

1. The Return

pairing: obi wan kenobi x f!reader (past!din djarn x f!reader) characters: f!reader, anakin amidala-skywalker, padmé amidala-skywalker, mentiones of din djarin, obi wan kenobi, others word count: 2.6k+ warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of rent: the musical (death, second chances) uh... I think that’s it? summary: au!it’s never been the right timing for you and obi wan kenobi; maybe this time will be different. a/n: i started working on this story so long ago it’s ridiculous, but I suddenly had a surge of motivation to continue this story after some tragic family news. this was also very much inspired by @martlands and their amazing obi wan stories, made me want to write my own and here it is

all || next

“You broke up?”

One would think that the immediate reaction to someone asking if you broke up with your significant other would be to cry or begin to ask them what could have possibly gone wrong. But that’s not the reaction you give. 

The reaction you give is just a shrug and a strong pop, as you spoon more gelato onto the little spoon his twins love collecting. “Yep.”

“After only three weeks of dating?” Anakin doesn’t know why he’s surprised, but he is. This is probably the shortest living relationship you’ve ever had. “Why?”

“Why not?” you answer easily, nonchalantly and you know it frustrates him. “It wasn’t working out, so we decided to call it quits.”

Not even a month ago, you had been genuinely excited about finally getting out there and meeting someone new, and even more excited when you were telling him all about this person you met while out with some old friends. You had said, word for word, “he might be the perfect contender!”

Where did all that excitement go?

You sigh, finally looking up at him and away from your white chocolate gelato that's just to die for. “Ani, it’s fine. It just didn’t work out. It happens.”

He grimaces. “What happened between you and Din—“

You bristle at the mention of your ex, narrowing your eyes and his widen in defense. You know what Anakin and Padmé think of him and it’s not entirely pleasant (particularly from Anakin’s part). It’s completely unfair. Din is lovely, sure a little socially awkward, but lovely nonetheless. “Has nothing to do with why Gar and I ended things.”

“But—“

“Nothing,” you reiterate with a bit more force and he sighs, lifting his hands in defeat while holding his own cup of gelato.

“Okay. Okay, I’m sorry.” And then, like a light switching, he turns playful. “Was it his name that turned you off—Gar?”

You resist the urge to groan and roll your eyes. “Oh maker, you are annoying!”

You huff as you make the trek back to the trolley that’ll take you both up to the observatory. The rest of your conversation is forgotten as he navigates it towards continuing to tease you and the latest exhibit you had helped set up.

The Coruscant Observatory is one of the most popular attractions in the city aside from the Exotic Animal Sanctuary (where most zoologist work to help rehabilitate wild animals before reintroducing them back into the wild, only housing the ones that have been assessed to not be able to function in the wild on their own—which are unfortunately many).

Your place of work is known for its large, ground telescope; its monthly constellation exhibits; the multiple planetarium theater rooms that house lectures, activities, star projections, etc.; and its Astronomer Q&A program where visitors can ask astronomers questions and even get a tour of the space station.

However, most of your days are spent in your office, planning for the next exhibit or actually executing them with your team; meanwhile, Anakin spends them in tech, sometimes maintaining the telescope, other times helping with IT issues, but mostly making sure the theater rooms worked perfectly for their 4D immersion.

(You like to joke that out of the two of you, he has it easiest; sometimes he’ll run by your office to get to another part of the building while you’re doing something and you’ll yell out, “slacker” and he’ll respond with, “you just work too much”.)

“Are Padmé and the twins stopping by today?”

“Not today, maybe tomorrow,” he says as you both step out of the trolley along with a few tourists. “I think today they decided to stay for some school thing.”

“Shouldn’t you know what that school thing is?” you chide him out of jest.

He scowls, there’s hardly any heat in it and it makes you grin. “It’s a music performance that the CN Theater is putting on.”

“Ah, and we all know how much musicals bores you.”

“I just don’t understand them,” he murmurs defensively as you climb the few steps leading to the entrance. The two of you smiling and greeting Rex at his security post and bypassing the ticket gate with your IDs.

“You mean you don’t have any taste,” you tease.

“It’s weird! I mean, most of them are all about tragedies and betrayals. What happened to the good ol’ romance and happy endings?”

“Not all of them are tragedies, Casanova.”

The main rotunda lobby is full of people milling about, looking at maps or the foucault pendulum in the middle of the room. Low chatter fills the room, shoes clicking and clacking against the marble flooring.

“Name one.”

Spotting the trash can and recycle bin, Anakin holds his hand out for your disposable cup and spoon and throws them away in their proper bin.

“Rent.” There are probably better examples, but you had been listening to the original cast album the night before and have all the songs still stuck in your head.

“Don’t two characters die?”

“Angel and Mimi.” You nod. “But Mimi is brought back to life by Angel, and is given a second chance at life.”

“She may have been brought back to life, but that doesn’t take away from the fact she died.”

“I’m not arguing with you on that, I’m just saying the ending was hopeful—not necessarily a happy ending, but it left you thinking—maybe things can get better.”

“And that’s not what I’m looking for. I’m looking for—“

“What you and Padmé have?” you ask him as you both reach the door of your office.

He pauses, mouth opening and closing before finally rubbing the back of his head sheepishly and saying, “Yeah.”

You smile, genuine and happy for your childhood friend. Who would’ve thought that years ago when you introduced them, they’d be here years later—married and with twins. You and Anakin sure as hell didn’t. For most of your childhood, you both believed you’d live out your life on Tatooine, hang with the same friends you’ve known since your pre-kinder days and eventually get married to each other—much to the dismay of your parents—because of benefits or whatever, until your parents decided they wanted to send you off to a private school in one of the major cities, derailing your and Anakin’s plan (for the better, if you’re being honest).

“You’re still coming over for dinner, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer, unlocking your office door with your key. “I have a meeting that might go over the expected time, but I should be able to make it on time.”

“Just let us know,” he says, rapping his knuckles against the door frame. “But you better be there! We have some planning to do!”

You roll your eyes and wave him away, promising he and his family will definitely see you at five. With a hearty chuckle he salutes you and leaves the door slightly ajar, just like you usually do. It’s your “you can come in to ask me questions, but knock first, please” visual telling.

With a soft exhale, you drop yourself into your creaking office chair, eyes landing on the first picture on your right—a younger you, only 18, fresh out of your uniform smiling wildly with a large bouquet of flowers that you can still distinctly remember the smell of.

“I am in love!” Padmé exclaimed, squealing in absolute delight at the flowers put in your hand.

Blue eyes crinkled with amusement, staring down at you. “Are you?” His voice was low, teasing and almost smug. He had obviously heard the gasp that escaped your lips when he presented you the colorful bouquet created with your favorite flowers that his father grew in their little garden.

“Irrevocably,” you answered, not able to hide your smile as you gently held it against your chest and smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful, Obi. Thank you.”

Obi Wan’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder, caught in the action of a booming laughter. He was always laughing in pictures. There isn’t a single picture you have of him that he isn't smiling.

Your finger gently trails over his smiling face. Maker, you miss him.

Is he still traveling? Or has he finally settled down again? Will he show up and spring some unexpected news on you again? Stars, you hope not. Shit didn’t go as planned last time and it probably wouldn’t again.

Your hand falls limply and you swivel in your seat, looking out the large glass window overlooking the majority of the city and sigh softly—an exhale of wary hope and sadness.

A bird soars by your window, it’s wings flapping effortlessly, diving before flying higher and away.

He’s not coming back. You know this. Coruscant just isn’t the same anymore. Not when he feels this city has taken everything from him.

One more year visiting Gui Gon without him.

The meeting runs longer than it usually would, just like you had expected. Checking the time, you let out a curse and quickly throw your belongings into your car.

Without wasting time, as soon as you switch on your engine, you place your phone on the dock and say, “Hey C-3PO, call Padmé.”

“Calling Padmé,” your phone’s AI answers through the speakers of your car.

“Are you outside?” Is how she greets you. There are loud noises in the background, children squabbling about something or another, and Anakin’s weary voice trying to rally them. 

You snort, pulling out of the undergroundparking lot. “Not yet, barely got out of my meeting and am on my way.”

“Please hurry, the twins really want to see you and are dying from hunger,” she says, amusement in her voice and not at all trying to hurry you. “They might start eating Anakin soon.”

“Hey, don’t bite that!” He yells from a distance.

“Hurry, please!” you hear over the phone—Luke. “I miss you,” he says, closer now. Which you immediately reply saying you miss him too, almost cutting off the next voice.

“And I’m hungry!” Leia’s voice follows his, practically yelling into the phone.

You laugh fondly, just imagining the childish glee on their faces at your scandalized gasps and your exaggerated “me too” answers.

“Leia, no yelling,” Padmé scolds her, gentle and kind. “Softer, please.”

“Sorry,” she says. “I’m hungry,” she repeats, softer, almost a whisper.

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there,” you promise. “If not, you have my permission to start eating your dad.”

Leia and Luke break into a fit of laughter, yelling something away from the phone to Anakin, who once again lets out a loud, “Hey!”

Padmé chuckles, moving away from the voices of the children tackling their father and their play fighting. “Take your time, we’re not in any hurry to start eating. The kids had a hearty lunch and a snack after school.”

“What about you and Anakin?”

“We’re fine, don’t worry. Just get here safely and we’ll see you soon.”

You end the call with one last reassurance from her and let out a loud sigh when your car comes to a stop behind a long line of glaring red lights—traffic. You hate traffic.

You might be surrounded by blinding lights and different models of vehicles, but it leaves you alone with your thoughts, the low hum of your engine and music from your stereo drowned out by the chattering in your head. 

It’s never just one thing that you think about. It can go from one thing to another, to all of them trying to climb over eachother and be the most present: your friends; your family; the dog next door; Din and Baby; cinnamon apple cookies; the beach house in Naboo; sneaking out of the prep dormitories at 2am with Padmé keeping an eye out and Obi Wan holding his arms out for you; rose gardens and peach tea; freckles on blushing skin; drunken singing in a small living room; 21st birthdays crying in a bathroom stall; that stupid movie quote about choosing life; death; but sometimes (most occurring) it’s Obi Wan that weaves into every thought.

He’s a constant plague in your mind, has been since the first time he left Coruscant in search of himself. 

Sometimes they’re pleasant thoughts, memories kept in a nostalgic trunk that you occasionally like to sift through. Other times, they’re not so pleasant; those are the ones you constantly struggle with, try to push into the recesses of your mind and keep them under lock and key. But for some stupid, strange reason, your mind only ever remembers the bad, even when there are better things to dwell on.

“I just—I just don’t understand why you have to leave—Obi. Obi!” you practically yelled, watching him move around his room, grabbing and throwing things he pulled out into his duffel bag. “Listen to me!” 

He didn’t stop, not until you reached for his duffel bag and plucked it out from his hands. He stared at you, his duffel bag carelessly thrown to the floor with his clothes spilling out. 

Your breathing was labored, a sick feeling swimming in your stomach, words stuck in your throat now that he wasn’t hiding his beautiful blue eyes from you—his devastatingly heartbroken eyes. “I have to,” he finally said, breaking the silence. “I need to leave. This house—this city, it's suffocating me. I can’t—I can’t stay here anymore.”

“Obi… Obi, please.” You can’t leave me. You can’t! Please! Please, Obi.

“I need to do this for me, darling. I’m sorry.”

You should’ve fought harder that night, should’ve convinced him to stay, but instead you helped him pack again with tears obstructing your view and sobs escaping your lips. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t have lost him.

No, your breath stutters as you lean back into your car seat, there was nothing you could’ve done. Either times. He had made up his mind long before that night.

A car honks their horn to your left and you jump, eyes focusing once more on the red lights of the car in front of you. You wipe at your face harshly and straighten your spine. 

That was years ago, little one. Shake it off. 

Sighing softly, you look up at the street name and make a turn onto the Skywalker residence street, your shoulders relaxing when their two story home comes into view.  

Shake it off.

Parking isn't easy to find in their neighborhood, not when it’s so close to the observatory and some of the most visited parks in the area, but you manage to find one just two cars away from their house. 

Gathering your things, you lock the door behind you and quickly make your way down the sidewalk, phone in your hand and typing out a message that you’re here.

It’s while you’re hitting send that you don’t notice the body in front of you, staring up at the house with an almost wary expression on his face, or how his eyes widen when they see you. It’s not until you collide into his body, soft with a fleece cardigan, that you notice him. Embarrassment begins to boil in your blood as you quickly apologize to him, berating yourself for not being more aware of your surroundings.

“Kriff, I’m so sorry—“ you start, but the apology catches in your throat when you look up.

“Hello, there.” Blue eyes, so soft and kind, like the ones you once used to dream of stare back at you—so unlike the pair of eyes you saw years ago. “It’s been a long time, darling.”

You can’t shake him off.

next

[border-spam]

Does troy really have a split jaw or is that fanon?

It's total fanon!

The design of the split lines across his cheekbones and chin coupled with the cheek clips and v shaped hinge outline next to his ears lead to a lot of people coming to that same outcome, that there is something up with his mouth from a prosthetic/mod standpoint.

So much of his design is never mentioned once or referenced in any way (hightech spinal rig with tattoos under it, neuro connector, mech arm that's much older and doesn't seem related to the spine and neuroport, implants on bicep, face mod etc) that like Tyreen's scars and possible lower body Siren markings, fandom took over when it came to coming up with logical explanations for 'em.

This actually touches ground with some Ao3 comments I wanted to share as they are all Leech Lord compliant, so I'll list them here alongside links to the fics they were related to (note warnings!)

You leave no avenue for characterization unexplored. Troy's facial prostheses finally receiving backstory is amazing

- Maw (Gore/Bodyhorror)

I LOVE the idea of it being not just decorative shit on his face, but my MO for any content I make is always based around asking why, over and over, and trying to make sense of what material I'm using in the first place. The modded mouth is a popular piece of fanon but you know... why? Why would he do that shit to himself. WHY would he want to be grotesque, why would he be chasing the reaction people would have to it when canonically he seems to really not be interested in fan attention the same way Tyreen is, what's the difference to him between being adored as his persona or being lusted after as a monster, etc. I just love deep-diving into the logic behind character and world building? It's what adds meat to the bone for me.

Big 'ol character and worldbuilding / lore responses list under the cut -

He could afford better robots but these ones UNDERSTAND Ty, don't you get it?

- Good night in (tooth rotting fluff)

Hey just because it's mangled and broken, and can't perform its intended function to a degree expected of it by everyone around it... and it's got rusty sharp bits it accidentally hurts you with sometimes... and it's cranky but it doesn't mean it... and sometimes it errors out in a way that's mildly disturbing in a way you can't place.. uh.. doesn't mean you should just GIVE UP ON IT you know? He can fix them :) They will be fine :) No one should just throw away something that's trying so hard just because it's damaged... haha... :')

It's so hard seeing how much they tear each other down when they're the only thing they have left. And what a poor self-image Tyreen has beyond all that glitter and bluster...

- Wolf in sheep's clothing

The twins function well enough as a unit till tensions rise, and I was trying to seed in The Leech's influence on them in earlier work like this too - towards anyone else Ty would become MORE aggressively confident, more assured in her complete and utter dominance of the situation, her flawlessness, but against Troy who see's her for what she is, it turns inwards and eats at her instead of lashing outwards. He switches from relatively submissive around her to almost surgical levels of dissection, he knows exactly how to go for the jugular with words, and doesn't hold back. She's The Leech's mouth but he's its eyes and it's only when they lose control emotionally enough for it to claw to the surface of their psyches that you get an idea of how much it really affects them individually. GB had an absolute goldmine on their hands here of cosmic/body horror and the concept of toxic family when all you have is each other, there's so much to work with, and I figure it's a factor in why some people still really enjoy messing around with Calypso content.

I like how you allow Troy to be a disabled character, how his congenital defects and prosthetics colour his outlook and appear in ways big and small in all these vignettes. It's easy, I think, to see him as largely untroubled by his health apart from when he needs a charge from Tyreen in the game, but you allow him to struggle with his weakness.

- Chronic (Drug use)

I'm really glad to hear that's coming through in the writing because it's something I noticed a lot too. Very often when Troy, or other characters canonically disabled / chronically unwell are written it's "told" and not "shown". Chronic pain, illness, it's not something that is just a little tickbox in a life or some descriptive terms added to a character synopsis, it's something you live and deal with. There are bad days. There are times it is a negative that has to be worked around or faced in ways that aren't pleasant. It doesn't make you lesser or weak to have times where illness does leave you unable to function to a level you want to, it's not a failure for you to be unable to perform tasks when a disability or flair up means it's not viable. I feel personally that by showing scenes like this where his health and body issues do have a very visceral and impossible to ignore the effect on his ability to function, and going through his mental processes of dealing with and managing them, it brings the character across as stronger than if he never seemed to be shown dealing with symptoms or weaknesses. People are more than their disabilities and conditions, those aren't just kinda taglines to add onto a character's description and then never address. I feel like doing that in a way undermines what people deal with who manage chronic illness, pain, and who have disabilities that affect their daily lives negatively. Appreciating the effort it takes to manage them is important.

What I really like about these is that you can really understand as a reader how their dynamic must have evolved. How even before Leda's death Tyreen would have felt demonized while Troy got the attention because of his condition, because he was less willful.

- Starlight, Moonbright

Ah man, absolutely - and that shit stayed with them. It wasn't his fault and he never wanted it, but of course their parents would have had their extremely ill child at the forefront of their thoughts, especially during weeks when he was.. bad. Tyreen by nature even without The Leech's influence is a little attention seeker, she'd be the life of any party and she BLOSSOMS if she's got the spotlight, but as a little kid who's got literally no one but her parents and her brother, and who all three of which can't give her nearly as much time as she deserved? That's rough. That's really unfair. That coupled with The Leech's warping effect on their egos as they grew up and the bitterness and resentment they harbored in different ways created a reverse dynamic. She'd never be out of the Galaxy's attention again, and he'd have no choice but to take his rightful place in her shadow.

I love how you illustrate both how much more, and yet how much less Troy is now. How the blameless child, full of potential, is inextricably linked to the brutal, larger-than-life avatar he fashions.

- DeLeon ( Graphic Violence / Gore / Hallucinations)

He's molded the monster he is now out of the bones of the man he should have been - there's no going back really. There's nothing left to go back to. He broke Troy DeLeon apart to build the persona that acts like an iron lung now, suffocating him breath by breath while forcing him to still take them. That life is over, he killed it before it had a chance, but the idea of it is still there in his subconscious. Somewhere in the absolute trainwreck of Troy's brain is the tiny, flickering belief that maaaaaybe one day this will all be over and he can shuck off the bracer and spines, peel off all the shit he's covered his skin with, and just go back to not being Calypso. DeLeon here isn't some aspect of his mental state or his sins haunting him - it's The Leech, spitting venom at a host it loathes in something that's not sound or comprehensible language. His subconscious has just translated it into something it can understand - his greatest regret.

On if Borderlands Humans originated on Earth -

There's a really tenuous link between BL verse and rEarth, but it's there and can't be ignored. The cultures, accents, terminologies, so many are Earth specific despite these people being spread across galaxies, so hell yes - Earth as an emergence point makes total sense. The next question then, is why is it never mentioned - and you can cover for that with a lot of things like say, tt was so long ago that it's not relevant to anything that would ever be discussed, or it could be a mass evacuation from a catastrophe there is little record of now. I like to go with something along those lines, that the first human Siren host emergence on earth just absolutely decimated the planet. Like, we were doing fine till this random woman somewhere in the ass-end of nowhere develops weird markings overnight, then goes apocalyptic. The first Leech maybe, not understanding her powers and having them rip across continents in a spread of crackling electric death that only left husked shells of plants and animals in its wake, or the first Firehawk who went nuclear and burned the sky, or the first Voidgrasp who lost control and began to collapse the planet's core - some extreme shit that had humans fleeing en masse with barely any preparation and HUGE swathes of history and knowledge left behind. That would cover so many social things surviving into the BL verse, cultures, accents, cooking, that shit comes with us regardless of what we were able to throw into escape ships. Like so much data would be stored on any tech and data arrays within the vessels people would use to leave a dying planet even in an insane rush, but that shit waters down over time - if you're farming barely edible plants on some planet that smells like farts, are you really gonna be that stressed about teaching your kids history from a lost planet when your current concerns are not being eaten by something with 19 legs and 4 buttholes? Don't think so.

On if the other Siren entities are as influential to their hosts as The Leech -

I touch on it a wee bit throughout LL, but the others are FAR more passive and meld more to their host's whims. The Firehawk Siren wouldn't.. like.. care? If the host was burning down a planet or fighting off an evil corporation? They are removed from any nonsense happening on this side, they might not even really be able to tell, it's like asking an amoeba or a collection of sentient atomic particles what its opinion is on Brexit. That's not really its priority. The Leech is so aggressive in its control of the twins and desperation to drive them towards an outcome it desires only cause it's split, broken, removed from the song, and completely lost. We're talking a caged, half-mad animal removed from its natural environment and left totally isolated from its own kind for millennia. It's in pain, it's confused, it wants to find its way back to the song and the others and where it belongs, but it's stopped by a barrier it can't comprehend ( the twins and being ripped between them), so in its impotent rage it feeds back that hatred onto them. It's not really sentient in the way we would describe functional intelligence, but it wants, and craves, and FEELS. And it feels very, very angry.

Big thanks to @undergoingcalibrations for talking through so much of this with me!

Asks are Open!

[accursedkaleeshi]

Hondo Has the Opposite of a Crisis of Honor

3K word fic about a job Hondo Ohnaka ran for Kalee earlier in his career & his later wartime run-in with General Grievous.

Business was on a steady incline for Hondo Ohnaka. He had escaped slavery, poverty, the Hutts & now, as planned he would escape the attention of authority. What kind of authority? All kinds, of course. He was a self-made man. An entrepreneur & a leader. His gang, made mostly of fellow Weequay, were operating just as ordered; The Ohnaka Gang! Yes, things were going most swimmingly. For his crew to flourish they had to fly low & strike fast, as his mother would have said.

While they worked up their spice sources, doing good work in front of other backroom businessmen would help get their name out into the right circles of the galaxy. The open ended bid from the planet Kalee for smugglers was a tip top opportunity. The Galactic Republic had brought embargos down on Kalee hard & they had no choice but to turn to underhanded humanitarians (for lack of a better word). Many other gangs & syndicates showed hesitation: the distance, the environment, & the natives all had reputations for being dangerous. Nonsense!, Hondo had thought, We will do it & we will do it with good deals. The Ohnaka Gang could come out looking quite good from this & so very far from the core worlds. Out there was little in the way of pesky patrols that might get their names out into the wrong circles of the galaxy.

From the relative safety of one of his classic Weequay ships, Hondo fixed himself a drink. He flipped on the vidscreen to a call from Kalee & spread himself over his seat. Between his antique rig & their equally antiquated tech, the signal was a bit scrambled.

“Hold on, hold on,” he relayed whilst he threw a cork bottle stopper at his young pet Kowakian monkey-lizard, “Mukmuk, help me out.” Stirred into action, Mukmuk squawked a pompous little laugh but begrudgingly leapt from his perch. The monkey-lizard gave the comms unit a couple good smacks that echoed against the casing but seemed to do the trick. The screen righted itself but the color flickered on & off. At this Hondo opened his arms in a greeting gesture. “Trade Captain Blys’aan! My most beautiful 4th quadrant customer!” he exclaimed jovially, “Your run has departed as planned. You would like more good news, yes-?”

He was interrupted by his contact.

“Save ya wiles for yer core clients, Ohnaka,” Blys’aan said, the audio coming in uncorrupted. She had a thick but warm foreign accent &, although her voice was just as jubilant as Hondo’s, her words were often sharp. The both of them knew very well he did not have clients on the core worlds, not at this point in his sure to be illustrious career. “We givin ya what we agreed,” she said amenably. It was hard to describe how her voice matched her visage. Warm & welcoming, perhaps, but with a sharp wolfish wit about her. A fellow businessman.

“An don’t you go try an upsellin my boys at Hakaleel, eh?” Blys’aan had barked this as if chiding a child. As she spoke she seemed to be sorting or washing vegetables. Her motion would leave artifacts as the vidscreen dropped in & out of monochrome. This Kaleeshi woman had such a vibrant green scales that her form would blend into her backdrop of some lush foreign jungle. Only when she began peeling things did Hondo recognize the vegetable (a popular, cheap export). Consequently, he realized it seemed small in her clawed hands & that Kaleesh must be larger than the average humanoid species. This did not worry him, of course, there was no reason to make things difficult.

“You know we can’t be affording more,” she had added. Hondo knew this to be relatively true. Kalee had next to nothing in the way of recognized galactic currency but Hondo always preferred to trade in goods. Most of what the Kaleesh had been trading to the other smugglers were caches of liberated Yam’rii weapons & tech as well as Kaleeshi people willing to find work off planet. Hondo was sure the Kaleesh made for excellent crew & security but, not to be exclusive, he had his own theme going.

The Ohnaka gang got a few caches of alien weapons but they didn’t mind trading in some of Kalee’s native goods. These were composed largely of animal products: feathers, hides, cuts, live specimens, & bones. Lots & lots of bones. Raw or crafted into traditional pieces of masks or weaponry. It made sense that other less cultured crews referred to the Kaleesh as bone lizards. Hondo knew he could tremendously upsell these to any would-be trophy hunter or self-proclaimed mystic looking for exotic trinkets. Kalee was on the edge of the civilized galaxy & considered to be in wild space; it was legitimately exotic. He would barter these for basic supplies that Kalee seemed to need most of all until such time it ceased to be profitable. Therefore the smiling & nodding he was doing was not at all a lie. For now.

“Tell ya lads t’ be behavin’ themselves on planet,” Blys’aan followed. Her voice suddenly went up half an octave in a mischievous tone. Hondo bowed his head a bit before she finished, his money-making smile still plastered on his face. He liked Trade Captain Blys’aan. She was sassy. Full of spirit. It was too bad she had retired from her position & was only fielding the remaining contracts in her name to her trade company. “We don’ take kindly t’ swindlers out here in wild space.” Naturally, what was a good deal without threats thinly veiled or otherwise? That’s how you know it is good! His mother had told him as much.

Other people (Kaleesh, he assumed) had wandered in & out of the background of her call a couple times & he had taken no notice. That was until Blys’aan said, “Hate for my husband t’ haff ta make’n example outta you to de other pirates, no?” She said this with such glee, her lips pursed into a playful smile behind her bone-crested veil, that the realization of someone coming to pause behind her almost startled the smile from him. They were large. If Blys’aan had 12 standard centimeters on him, this figure would have been nearly 30 centimeters taller than him in his finest boots.

Hondo could only assume it was her new husband; the General, they called him. There was nothing coy & playful about this man. He was only on screen for a few seconds but had looked directly at the pirate, gesturing the universal signal for watching someone. The moment the General motioned to his eyes with two clawed fingers the color on the old monitor cut back in. For a split second Hondo might have been intimidated, barely registering the pointed jab his direction under the piercing predatory gaze of the General’s bright gold eyes glowering at him from behind the hollowed sockets of some animal’s bleached skull. By the time Hondo began to voice a reply to Blys’aan, the General was already out of the frame.

“Of course, of course!” Ohnaka began, very loudly & very reassuringly, “I am a man of substance, Captain! We wouldn’t dream of- of profiting off the suffering of your people. We can be excellentfriends!” He clapped his hands together at this for emphasis. Blys’aan giggled very boisterously. She must have seen her husband walking away & realized that he had been behind her. That must have been a solid relationship, threatening pirates together. Good for them. “There is no need to take the good General away from his duties,” Hondo insisted.

He had no idea what those duties were but he would prefer he keep to them. All Hondo knew about General Grievous was that he was some sort of globally celebrated veteran folk hero, & not the jaunty fun kind of folk hero. He’d heard from the other gangs considering Kalee’s jobs that the General protected his system so fiercely that even Zygerrian slavers would no longer come out this way. The details did not concern him. Hondo was there to do business!

The call carried on another few minutes as he wanted to be positive he postured assuringly enough to not get his crew killed by the natives. Blys’aan had ended the conversation with, “You be good t’ all yer space rat friends, now Ohnaka,” which he took to be endearing in a matronly way. How nice of her to wish them well. This was the last time he spoke with Import Trade Captain Blys’aan. He certainly had hoped in the moment that it was the last time he ever had to see the General.

From then on Hondo’s Kaleeshi contact was the High Trade Chief of the planet’s premier trade organization. They liked their titles, the Kaleesh. High Trade Chief Yaitee was an alright sort, very shrewd & severe. He was quite a fine businessman but desperate (the best kind of businessman) & much less fun. A couple members of his own crew would splinter off & join a poaching ring on the planet, never to be heard from again. You win some, you lose some. Then the Intergalactic Banking Clan showed up to the system. They had apparently worked out some sort of deal with the good General. Many smugglers did not like that kind of presence. Even with the IBC, the Kaleesh tried to maintain many of their under the table contracts as there wasn’t much to go around, apparently.

Over time the Ohnaka gang was getting right to where they wanted to be in the galaxy, cutting deals & running spice. Kalee became less profitable every quarter until they quietly stopped taking their jobs & moved on to greener pastures, so to speak. The last time Kalee was on his underworld radar was maybe 8 standard years after he’d taken on Blys’aan’s contract. Something about an urgent need for medical supplies. Ominous, but there wasn’t anything he could do about it even if he wanted too. Meds were very hard to smuggle & supplying them tended to land people in a lot of drama. Too much trouble to do as a regular gig. But life with spice was going quite nicely.

Hondo did not think back on dropped deals very often. Life must go on, after all. Years later the Ohnaka gang became quite good at conducting business on the fringes of the Clone Wars. Now, he was not one to take sides, but it is hard to sell to battle droids. Not impossible, but very hard. The money in the Separatists was their leader Count Dooku of Serrano. The man was loaded with money. But unfortunately their engagements fell through & Hondo hadn’t managed to make friends with the Count.

He had hoped perhaps the Count was an honorable old man that would take their falling out with grace & humility. He learned he was incorrect in this assumption when a fleet of battle droids showed up to his beautiful home & base of operations on Florrum. The Count himself did not show, busy doing Sith lord things, whatever that was. He sent his dog of war. Of course Hondo had heard the commander of Dooku’s droid army was wreaking havoc on the galaxy. Not the jaunty, fun kind of havoc. Supreme Commander of the Separatist Droid Army General Grievous. The Kaleesh liked their titles. However, up until that day, Hondo had the good fortune of never meeting him & thought maybe good for him, getting promoted to death machine, but never lingered on it.

He had not been worried. What are a few battle droids? He was not prepared for what marched into his lobby that day. It was big. Sharp. Cold. Most of all, furious. King of the clankers, indeed.

“Hondo,” it growled his name with disdain upon entering.

“General Grievous, I presume!” Hondo had greeted his guest as jovially as ever. “What a surprise! Have a seat. What, may I ask, is the honor?” The hope that maybe this could be an amicable meeting faded with each long, loud step the General took, until this overgrown battle droid stepped directly onto his desk to leer at him. When the General grabbed his very rare vintage coat lapels & lifted him off of his feet there was a split second of something, maybe horror or disgust or maybe even pity. Whatever it was had him briefly aghast to find those same blazing golden eyes he’d glimpsed so long ago. Did the General remember him? Or was he acting purely on the spiteful orders of his master?

“You can dispense with the pleasantries, pirate,” Grievous had rasped as he approached. “This planet is now under Separatist control,” he had asserted from somewhere on that uncanny plate armor that was now his face. It truly was the same man. Bone white was an interesting color choice for a killer war robot. Bold.

“Uh huh,” Hondo blinked a few times before remembering he was currently being threatened with military occupation by this fancy cyborg. “And what do you suppose that means?” he asked. His flash of empathy vanished completely as quickly as it came. He got the feeling this meeting was not going to get him any deals & in fact he may be swindled. The gall did not have time to be voiced as the General threw him to the ground with an unnecessary amount of force. Luckily he was still drunk enough not to be phased by impact.

“It means you have a new master, pirate scum” the General jeered & threw something to the ground in front of him. Hondo had another second of panic, thinking perhaps the good General was insane & opted to bomb them. But it was just a holocom. And there was the man of the hour over hologram to greet him.

“Hondo Ohnaka, we meet again,” Count Dooku began over coms with just as much disdain as his monstrous errand boy, “As I recall, last time we met face-to-face I was your prisoner.” Hondo muttered a syllable. He supposed the Jedi would never hold a grudge like this. “And you attempted to barter me off to the highest bidder.” Dooku’s face never once changed expression.

“But can you blame me?” Hondo interjected with a smile & a sheepish shrug. “I mean a Sith Lord-“ He used the same gravitas to pronounce it that everyone else did, although still not having any idea what exactly a Sith lord was. “What a handsome price you would-“

“Silence! You will pay the price for your treachery,” the Count barked.

“Well, I’m a reasonable man. Name the price. I’m sure we can reach a-“ Hondo was again cut off.

“There will be payment, but no deals…” No deals, he said? No deals? “Only demands. Your entire arsenal will be melted down. Everything you own is now property of the Separatist Alliance.”

“Now you go too far!” Hondo exclaimed indignantly. “Unacceptable! This is an outrage. This…” All of his little kingdom he had worked so hard for! Scrapped by this cad & his metal toys? He had stolen all of this fair & square. He would not stand for this! Now that he was making a scene, two commando droids clacked up & seized him by the arms with very unforgiving grip. “Hold on,” the pirate changed his tone as the droids led him away to his own brig. “We can make a deal! This is not good business!” he shouted over his shoulder.

That was a very long day for Hondo Ohnaka. Luckily the half-gallon Jedi he had captured earlier came back to rescue him with the troupe of pint sized Jedi in tow. How nice this was! Not only did they free him, but he got to witness the construction of a Jedi lightsaber. Very rare, very exclusive. In return he led them to his secret fleet of pirated ships in which they could escape. Very generous of him. They got separated in the dry canyons of Florrum but Hondo was convinced to courageously save the day in the Fetts’ souped up patrol ship, Slave 1. It was a very nice ship that the same half-gallon Jedi had grounded there some time before.

The ship had now come to the girl’s rescue in the midst of a lightsaber duel with the General himself. There were far too many laser swords flashing down there in the dust. Tano leapt dramatically into the open gangplank just out of reach of the droid general’s claws. Grievous stood & stared down this highly modified attack ship, yelling some threat. Hondo felt threatened, at least, as his initial impression concerning the General’s level of sanity seemed to be true. This completely justified opening fire on the cyborg with dual ship-graded laser cannons. The tiny Jedi were surprisingly very open to obliterating him. It would have been a nice end to the day if Hondo had stopped a galactic war right then & there but, after a bolt or two struck the ground around him the General dropped & took cover. He folded rather like a very expensive lawn chair as his Separatist tanks rolled up behind him. It was time to go.

This was exactly how he retold the tale to Jedi Kenobi. Except maybe the part about waylaying a craft full of children. The important thing is Hondo saved the day! His friends in the Republic were happy to free his base system from Separatist control or, in the very least, not arrest him for waylaying a craft full of children. Whilst Hondo & his battered gang went back to Florrum to start picking up the pieces, he may have had a quiet moment of intoxicated introspection (the best kind of introspection?).

He reflected on the concepts of good & evil, whether or not they exist, & if so, to what degree. Was his sense of honor different than his friend Kenobi’s? From the Count’s? From the General’s? Surely these were all honorable men. At least at some point in their lives. Hardship tends to polarize people. Hondo liked to be in the middle. Maybe a little to one side. Then he went to drunkenly order new ships from the holonet to defend his base from any other ideas the Count might get.

The very last time his mind wandered all the way back to the Kalee contract was when the news broke. That was a lot of news to take in, to be fair. The Clone Wars had ended with the death of General Grievous & a betrayal by the Jedi of the Republic? Where did everyone’s honor get them in the end? He fleetingly wondered how Import Trade Captain Blys’aan was doing.

[shesawriter39049]

|Breakdowns & Bugatti’s| M|

     *****  Headcanon’s for my OT7 AU*****

Genre: Rich Kid AU/ Drama/ Suspense/ Smut/ Angst

AU SUMMARY : The story of 8 heirs, who also happen to be the children of some of the most powerful, and well known political figures in The Big Apple! This is a candid look at all of the sex, lies, drama, scandals, couture and boujee affairs that are caught both on, but more importantly off camera!

OR: Gossip girl meet’s HTGAWM? Essentially if GG was on HBO, darker, and had more depth within it’s plot! Which is no shade, I love me some Gossip Girl, but realistically looking back a lot of the “Drama” wasn’t that...deep lol! But we still loved it all the same!

Note:  The first chapter is called “The Kim’s of New York” So these headcanon’s are solely the Kim boys & the OC! ALSO, I just tried to find the most discrete gif for the Y/N there is NO ethnicity for ANY of my OC’s! Also, it’s set to be a OT7 intertwined plot but the smut with the OC will prob only be 3/4 members deep!

***The sneak peek for part 1 which is Namjoon X Reader will be linked***

~~~~~~~

Name: Namjoon Kim

Age: 21 Birth place: New York, New York

Current Residence: West Village, New York/ Songpa-Gu, Seoul Korea

Profession: Heir, College student, Entrepreneur, Art lover, Smartass, Heartbreaker (Closet fuck boi) 

College: NYU (Incoming Junior)

Degree: Aiming for a Master’s in Journalism & Political communication. Endgame :Political Journalism

Preferred Degree: Opinion, Trade, or Art Journalism, or a Museum Curator   (Namjoon actually anonymously runs a pretty popular art based travel blog)Namjoon also dabbles in that Soundcloud life making beats under an undisclosed name...however that’s just a hobby....so he says...

Business Type:....Co-owner/founder of an exclusive, invite only, dating service....do with that information what you will!

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?: LMAO….sure

Net Worth : 10 Figures

Dating Status : Closet Fuck Boi! Wait, is that not an option? Okay fine. He’s single...ish…Kinda? Well to be fair it depends on the time of day honestly! Is it a Sunday? Are we going to Brunch at Society Café? Or, is it Friday night and he’s going to the “Press Lounge”? More importantly is it election season and and does his father need him to not look like a hoe!? This is all crucial information, I need meticulousdetails honestly! So for the time being I guess I’ll have to pass on the question!

Aesthetic : Tom Ford X Hugo Boss X Valentino X Dior X Tommy Hilfiger = Couture Business Casual! I.E Namjoon always looks like he’s going to some business meeting with Elon Musk, and Jeff Bezos! Even if it’s like...noon on a Saturday and your going on a day trip to Nappa...He’s still in calfskin loafers and a disrespectfully tight button up. Namjoon’s giving like...hot college professor PornHub realness...Yup His whole “Scholar Student” Aesthetic is a whole ass kink and baby boy knows it! 

Political Tie: Father, Joshua Kim, New York Senator

Parents : Father : Joshua Kim, (New York Senator, son of Billionaire tech Tycoon Sang Woo Kim) Mother: Christine Kim : Luxury Event planner

Siblings : Only child

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Liberal Daily : Matte Black Porsche 911/ Satin Red Ferrari 458/ Bugatti Veyron Matte red

Name: Seokjin Kim (Jin Kim)

Age: 23

Birth place: London, England

Current Residence: Upper Eastside, New York/ Chelsea London

Profession: Existing, Retired Editorial Model, Entrepreneur, Occasional influencer (When he feels like it) IE, the influencer that never really asked for the titile...he’s just rich and living his life! I mean let’s be real who isn't curious to see how the -1% lives?!

College: University of Oxford

Degree: Maybe he has a Master’s in Business...maybe he dropped out!

Preferred Degree: Culinary Arts...or honestly...just chillin...maybe eventually open his own modeling firm or something down the line!

Business Type:....Jin casually runs high stakes poker matches...and that’s all you need to know for right now….

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?:...Again...that’s all you need to know right now…

Net Worth : 10 Figures

Dating Status : Single, and not in the mood to entertain….unless you’ll like...walk yourself out after then maybe...Oh also it’s a requirement that you’re aware there’s more luxury brands than Gucci and Louis Vuitton. Show up in anything straight monogram and Jin’s going flaccid on command!

Aesthetic : Chanel  X  Dior X Cavalli X Dolce X Fendi  = On Duty Runway Model! It truly doesn’t matter if he’s going to brunch, the movies, or sitting front row at Galliano! Jin always looks like he should be front row at Galliano! Whilst also effortlessly looking 10x’S pretter than half of the bitches in Manhattan even on his worst day! Androgyny at its finest, well Jin and Judge Parks son are kinda tied in that department!

Political Tie: Father, David Kim, Mayor’s Chief of Staff/ “Ghost” press secretary

Parents : Father : David Kim, (Retired Corporate Attorney, son of Billionaire Oil Tycoon Hyun-Son Kim) Mother: Lisa Kim, Co- owner of Hotel Shailla, daughter of Michael Lee, Millionaire Entrepreneur )

Siblings : Taehyung Kim (20), Hae Jin Kim (29) Deceased...( Allegedly)  

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Honestly, Jin could give less than a damn

Daily : Matte Pink Aston Martin One, White Bugatti Chiron

Name: Taehyung Kim (Tae Kim)

Age: 20

Birth place: Rome, Italy

Current Residence: Cobble Hill, New York/ Pairs, France (When he’s not in school...or just on the weekends)

Profession: College student, Painter, Podcast Host, unwarranted fashion critique/ Stylist! Tae lowkey thinks his IG feed is the reprise of “Fashion  Police” Joan Rivers bless rest her soul..she would’ve loved him!

College: Bernard (Sophomore)

Degree:  Fine Arts (Painting/ Sculpture)

Preferred Degree: Exactly...what he’s doing...he enrolled at NYU for business. Lasted all of like...5 months before he dropped out!

Business Type:....Tae run’s a very...controversial late night Podcast  appropriately titled “Tae unfiltered”! It wasn’t supposed to be a job, lord knows he doesn't need one...However due to the steady increase in his audience the youngest Kim is on track to ending up on Forbes without his inheritance.

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?:...Yup!

Net Worth: 10 Figures

Dating Status : Single, and more than ready to mingle, Tae essentially had the same girlfriend all throughout high school! The pair broke up maybe 7 months ago when she opted to go to college in London. So let’s just say he has a lot of making up to do and he’s very much….open to new experiences…

Aesthetic : Guicci  X  Gucci X Gucci X  Gucci X Gucci = Gucci!? Nah, actually Tae, is fond of anything that doesn't...blend in...so Moschino, GCDS, Vetements, Kenzo, Balmain= If it lowkey looks like it could've been homemade...but it cost like bare minimum 4k! Or he just highkey looks exactly like you’d expect, like a very rich, art student who loves funky. abstract, unethical, clothing! Is he going to Coachella or to the farmers market? We may never know but that’s fine! He’s also young, and well aware that he’s fine as fuck, and that’s a whole ass problem! Tae may not have a ton of experience but he’s far from shy and more than down to learn...

Political Tie: Father, David Kim, Mayor’s Chief of Staff (Ghost press secretary)

Parents : Father : David Kim, (Retired Corporate Attorney, son of Billionaire Oil Tycoon Sang Tae Won Kim) Mother: Lisa Kim, Co- owner of Hotel Shailla, daughter of Michael Lee, Millionaire, Entrepreneur )

Siblings : Seokjin Kim (23), Hae Jin Kim (29) Deceased ( Allegedly)

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Liberal AFFFFFFFFFFFFF

Daily : Lime Green Lamborghini Huracan/ Matte Grey Ferrari F60

Name: Yn/Ln

Age: 21

Birth Place: Paris, France

Current Residence: Upper East Side, New York/ Dubai

Profession:...Taking pictures, of both herself and other people, ugh...looking attractive? Does that count? Oh being well dressed...Self taught photographer, Fashion Blogger, Creative Director,Entrepreneur...

College: N/A ...Possible freshman at NYU or Bernard or, FIT for Photography & or Fashion

Degree: N/A... IF, she went it would be for Fine Arts/ Fashion degree for Creative Direction

Preferred Degree: Honestly, none, she lives and breathes fashion and due to her lifestyle Y/n already has the type of connections that up and coming photographers would die for! BUT...said college degree would shut her father up...so it’s a possibility! However, it’s not like he considers photography or being a fashion influencer a real job anyway...sooo she mideswell just not even bother!

Business Type:....Existing? Her main job is essentially...breathing...and occasionally taking pictures of other people! Oh, and herself as well, she get’s paid to post daily content! She runs a website called “MyJobIsToBeWellDressed” Co-owner of an exclusive invite only dating service!

(Bonus Question ) Licensed Business?: Yes and...(lmao)...for the first part, where her blog and all of that is concerned, yes...she’s 1099 the full nine! The other job however...................mmm... next question?

Net Worth: 10 Figures

Dating Status :YOLO

Aesthetic : 90’s Couture meet’s “House of Yes” @ 3 AM ( Back when luxury brands weren’t afraid to have fun and be a little risque)  Chanel X Versace X Dolce X Prada X Gucci X Galliano = Well kept sugar baby??? Or every time you see her your literally like “Dude where the fuck are you even going!!??” Baby girl is always overdressed, she showed up to go on a doggy date through central park with Yoongi and Holly in 7 inch Louboutin’s sooo..we love that! Owns literally every vintage 90′s runway archive you can think of...If you’ve gagged over it on Pinterest it’s in Y/n’s closet. She’s smooth as all fuck...that’s for damn sure, radiating the perfect blend of BD and WAP energy....she’s a bad bitch and she knows it! Fuck the entire upper Eastside knows it!

Political Tie: Father, Christopher L/N, New York Senator

Parents: Father : Christopher L/N, (New York Senator, son of Billionaire Automotive Tycoon/ Real Estate Mogul Gregory L/N/ ) Mother: Ashley L/N, (luxury) Interior Designer & Daughter of Hotel Mogul Michael L/N

Siblings: Only child...maybe

Political Party: Democratic

Actual Political Party: Liberal

Daily : Matte Black Bugatti Divo / Satin Purple Lamborghini Murcielago/ Any car that any of her friends are driving because...fuck that, ridding shotty all day!

~~~~~~~~

There they are!!

The sneak peek is linked below...part 1 is Namjoon X Reader

However Jin and Tae are briefly introduced...and they will eventually have induvial chapters as well!

SNEAK PEEK

[catxsnow]

ADMIT IT D.W.

Summary: You crush on the great Boy Wonder was a little more than obvious

Warning: Older!Damian fLiRtInG

A/N: Damian is like early twenty’s here. 

GIF not mine

Word count: 2k

It was a stormy night in Gotham. Rain poured from the dark sky and thunder boomed continuously. It seemed like any other night in that dreaded city. Day in day out, nothing but clouds and overcast. It was like the sun never shined in that city. If this was God's cruel punishment against the city, then you couldn't blame him.

Between the crime rates, the horrible citizens, and the corrupt police force, Gotham was no sanctuary. It was a city made for sinners, thugs, and those unfortunate few who had no chance of escape. You hated Gotham, you hated it enough to try and fight against the dreaded nights and sorrow days.

You worked by yourself, but it wasn't a surprise if part of Batman and crew showed up to your fight scene. They allowed you to continue your fight against crime as a vigilante, but they didn't dare trust you enough to take down important missions on your own. Sometimes you appreciated their help, most times, it was a nuisance.

It had been only a few years since you started this gig. Slowly at first, taking down petty thefts and drunk assholes. Then you started reaching the bigger leagues, the crime lords and mobsters. Soon, you became popular enough to be within Batman's radar.

The night was quiet, despite the loud thunder that rolled across the clouds. You saw the outline of Robin standing along the building edge. His cape flowed in the wind and his shadow cast upon the city as lightening struck behind him. You scoffed to yourself, but nonetheless flipped over to him.

"Dramatic much?" you asked. Judging by Robin's build, his voice, even the way he moved, you guessed that he had to have been around your age. At least, he was the closet out of all the others. You were nearing twenty-one, just shy of being able to buy your own drinks.

"Quiet out there tonight, huh?" You asked as he didn't reply. Robin seemed to tolerate you, nothing more, nothing less. He spoke very few extra words than needed and always had a snarky tone. You couldn't tell if that was because of his facade, or if that was who he really was.

Even so, after working with him several times, you couldn't help but be attracted to him. His voice, his actions, the way that he beat the ever living hell out of douchebags. Robin finally turned to face you, jumping down from the small ledge that he once stood.

"It is," he agreed. Truth be told, around you - it was an act. He would never admit that he enjoyed time with you. "That doesn't mean that you need to come bother me."

"But you're my favourite person to bother," you approached him. Damian stood still as you dragged your gloved hands up his chest and rested them at the bottom of his neck. "Why can't you just admit that you like my little visits."

"Because then I'd be falling into Batman's footsteps with Catwoman," Robin scoffed. He would never allow himself to admit that he did enjoy seeing you on the rooftops. Most times when he was on his own, he wished that you would show up to see him, even if it was just a coincidence.

His eyes would linger on you, the suit you wore was tight around every perfect curve of your body. Even the way you swaggered towards him like you knew god damn well that any man watching was eyeing you up. Damian wanted his eyes to be the only ones on you.

"Ugh," You rolled your eyes. You had a few run ins with Catwoman, none of them ending well. "I'm nothing like her. She's a thief, I fight for the good guys. I'm on your side, it's okay to admit it." You took another step closer to him so your chests touched.

You had a bad habit of shamelessly flirting with him. Robin was well aware of your attempts to flirt with him - and if he was any good at it he would have flirted back. Instead, his words came out cryptic. You often were confused by what he was feeling - his body was relaxed near you but his words said otherwise.

"Come on, Robin. Just one little word, just admit it," a Cheshire grin covered your cheeks as you stood on your toes. Your lips just barely brushed against his before pulling away. Fuck, did Damian want to pull you in, to kiss your properly after all these months of teasing him like this. You never gave him the satisfaction of what your lips truly felt like.

Damian's shoulders stiffened. He knew very little about you. Hell, he didn't even know your name, where you came from, how old you were. Yet, without knowing anything about you, he still found himself wanting to agree to your pleas. To admit that he enjoyed your company was to admit that he liked you. How could he like someone without even knowing them?

"I'll get you one day," you promised him. Damian watched as you backed away from him. The sway in your hips was entrancing and he couldn't look away. You stood up on the ledge that he was previously at. With a wink in his direction, you flipped off and soared down. Damian's breath caught in his throat, worried that you were going to fall to your death.

Not even a second later, you came flying back up again. A grappling gun was secured in the palm of your hand and your laugh echoed through the stormy night. Damian furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at his belt. You had stolen the grappling gun from him. Had you just used him to get the tech? Or did you genuinely want him to admit that he liked your visits? He wouldn't know.

"Fuck." Me.

><

Damian wished that he could get you out of his head. As Robin, as himself, he couldn't do it. He spent hours at night thinking about you, who you really were. He wanted to meet you, the real you. He tried finding out who you were, but you were careful - careful enough for Batman to have not figured it out yet.

He wanted to see you again. At night, he searched for you rather than searching for crime. He needed to see you again. This ache in his chest was driving him crazy and seeing you again was the only thing that was going to fix it. Damian was only frustrated by these feelings, he didn't want them to affect his everyday life but here he was.

It was over a week since your last encounter. He hadn't seen you, or any signs that you were even out on the streets. Damian was getting worried about you, he always saw that you were protecting the city at least once every few days. It was far too long to have no signs at all.

Damian overlooked the city from one of the tallest buildings in Gotham. It was stormy out again, this time the rain pounded against his skin, soaking him to the bone. He was cold, miserable, and was ready to call it a night and head back home.

"The Boy Wonder," a voice from behind him spoke. Damian nearly sighed in relief at the sound of your voice. He spun around to see you leaning against one of the arches. The grappling hook that you stole from him was tightly secured around your waist. He looked down at it. "Sorry, I don't exactly have the money to get one of my own, figured you'd have lots."

You weren't wrong. There were tons in the batcave, he just wasn't particularly excited to tell Batman that you had taken one from him. You strolled up to him, wiping some of the water that drenched your face off. It was useless, the rain wouldn't stop.

Damian noticed the stitches that laced up your cheek. His hand went up to your face, skimming just below where you had been cut. "What happened?" He asked, concern in his voice.

"Didn't realize you cared, Robin," you joked. As he moved his hand once more, you winced in pain. He went to lower his hand but you placed yours on top, forcing him to stay there. "Got myself into some trouble right after I saw you last. Thought I could take them, pulled out of pair of brass and well..." you trailed off. "It was nothing bad. Just a cut and some bruises. Had to stay home for a few days."

So, he was right to be worried. You were fine now, but what about the next time? What about the time that you aren't going to make it out with such ease?

"I'm fine, now," You told him, as if you were reading his thoughts. The brief look of sadness in your eyes was instantly replaced. "Better now that I'm with you.” You tried to reach for another one of his weapons but Damian was too quick. He latched onto your hand before you could steal something else of his.

You tried to interlock your fingers but, Damian pulled away and he once again went back to his rigid form. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were up here looking for me." You gestured to the high skyline and then looked back at Robin.

"I was looking to see if there was any criminal activity," Robin corrected. Lies. He was looking for you, but he wasn't going to tell you that. "But I am glad to see you aren't dead."

"Why because you'd miss me?" You teased. You jumped around him, flipping here and there to get some of the pent up energy released. Being forced to stay at home had you going stir crazy. However, with the rain making the roof top more slippery, you had lost you footing and nearly fell right off the edge. Robin had grabbed your wrist just in time, pulling you with so much force that you landed into his chest.

"Because you owe me," he referred to the grappling hook. He didn't mind you keeping it. "Twice, now."

"Mhmm, I could make up for it, right now. Up here, on this rooftop, with no one around," you suggested. The only reason that he knew you weren't completely serious was the joking tone in your voice. Yet, he swore he could feel your finger traceing his chest plate right on his skin. His thigh trapped between your legs, and you were nearly begging for attention. "Just the two of us."

He was tempted. God, was he tempted. Damian didn't care if anyone would show up, he would gladly accept your offer. But he couldn't, he knew he couldn't. So, as much as he wanted to, he denied. You pouted at him, which had made it even harder for him to decline your idea.

"Come work with Batman and I," Robin suddenly countered your offer. "The tech, the protection, at least someone will have your back so this doesn't happen again."

You pulled away from him. Batman had already offered to become a part of his team. You were sure he had a stickler for having young kids under his wing but you weren't eager to become one of them. It was easier to work alone, at least that way you would never have guilt of messing up with them.

"It was nice seeing you again, Robin," you had done the exact same thing as last time, flipping off the roof to dive into the streets. This time however, as you left, the playful smile wasn't on your face, but a frown. Were you really that offended to be working with a team? Damian was sure that you would have jumped on the opportunity to be able to see him more.

Damian frustratingly sighed. He ran a hand through his soaked hair. What was it going to take for you to join him? He just wanted you safe. Damian would never be able to forgive himself if you died while trying to save the city because you couldn't agree to work with him.

><

Avoiding Robin was easier said than done. Firstly, you didn't want to avoid him, you wanted to be there with him, teasing him like you always did. Secondly, between him, the Bats, and the others, it was near impossible to get anything done without being spotted by them. Yet, you managed.

Not being able to see Robin made you realize how much you actually liked him. It wasn't just playfully flirting, but a hope that he would in fact be able to recognize your affection. You wanted to know who he was, as a real person not as some side kick of Batman. Whoever was hiding under the mask was your number one goal to find out.

Maybe the only way to do that, was to join him.

You didn't want the pressure that being on a team came with. People relying on you? No, that wasn't something you were ready for. But maybe, with their help you could be ready for it. Maybe if they were so adamant on you joining, then they needed you just as much as you needed them.

So, instead of avoiding Robin, you searched for him. It had been weeks since you had seen him last. The gap in your visits was hard on you. It made you wonder how you could care for someone who you didn't even know. Robin thought the same thing, you just weren't aware of it.

"You must be getting tired of this rain too," You nearly jumped at the voice from behind you. Robin was leaning against a pillar with his arms crossed over his chest and a satisfied look on his face. Finally, he found you. He just wasn't aware that you let him find you, you wanted to see him again.

"By this point. I'm used to it," You answered. "Besides, getting to see you all wet like this? Mmm, that's a treat all in itself." You dragged a hand through his wet hair, having to stand up on your toes to even be able to reach. God, did you love when he got flustered to the point of not knowing what to say.

"It's been a while," Robin stated. You shrugged at him, pretending that the time that you spent away didn't bother you. Of course it did, but seeing the disappointed look on his face that you didn't seem to care? That was worth it.

"I was busy," You nonchalantly informed, waking away from him and back into the rain. It was true, you did have several busy nights but for the most part, things had been quiet, boring even. "Who do you think put Two-Face back in Arkham?"

"I figured as much," Robin stalked back over to you. He stood right by your side, brushing against your suit.

"You miss me?" You smirked up at him. He should have expected that question, you asked it nearly every time. However, the tone in your voice, the way that you were holding yourself up, it caught him off guard. You were genuinely wanting him to say that he had missed you - and after all these times that he denied it - he admitted it.

"Yes."

You looked up at him in shock. Robin always found a way to change the subject or come up with some sort of quip that ensured you that he didn't miss you when you disappeared. You could always tell that he was lying when he denied it but hearing him finally admit that he missed you meant everything to you.

Damian finally looked down to you. He didn't mean to blurt out the answer but he couldn't hide the truth any longer. Seeing you was always the highlight of his night, he couldn't deny that any longer.

"I want to see you, as much as I can," Damian continued on. He was surprising himself by these words, it was rare that he spoke of his emotions. "These little visits, they're not enough for me any longer. I need to see you, to fill this void in my chest when I'm not with you. Come work with me, please."

You were nearly as shocked by his words as he was. Robin never uttered a word of how he cared for you, how he craved to see you. Hearing him say this was everything that you ever wanted to hear. You cared for him, but could never accept that he cared for you back, he never proved it to you that he did.

After a moment of silence, Damian began to panic. Did you not feel the same way? Was the flirting just a trick? A game? No, it couldn't be.

Damian watched as you reached up towards your face, peeling of that mask that covered half your face. You met his eyes when your face was bare, revealing who you were and what you truly looked like. Damian was in awe of your beauty, everything about you was just as perfect as he had imagined.

"(Y/N)," You told him. "(Y/N) (L/N). I proved to you that I care enough about you, now prove to me that you care enough for me to join." You didn't expect him to do the same action as you - maybe one day but not yet. However, you also didn't expect what he actually did, either.

Damian kissed you.

His hands cupped the sides of your face, wishing that he didn't have these gloves on so he could feel you. Rain drops raced down your skin, between your lips that parted when needing a breath of air. Bodies pressed so close together that nothing could have broken you apart.

He kissed you with all this pent up desire that you constantly left him with. The worry that he had for you when you were on the streets by yourself. The neediness that he felt every time he was near you. He kissed you like he had cared about you for years.

Damian pulled away from you, his fingers still resting your facing. He rested his forehead against yours. This small taste of getting what he wanted didn't come close to fulfilling his desires. He needed you, constantly.

"I'll join you, Boy Wonder," you spoke barely above a whisper. "Just admit that you've been wanting to do that since the day we met because I've wanted you to do that since then."

"I admit it."

[tchallasbabymama]

M’Baku’s Love- Chapter 6

Here’s the next chapter of M’Baku’s Love. Check out my masterlist HERE to catch up and read my other stories. Let me know what you think or if you want to be tagged. Hope y’all enjoy!

Word count: ~6100

When M’Baku picked Niecey up for their date, the first thing they both noticed was that his dark brown tuxedo with gorilla fur sash clashed with Neicey’s low-cut black sequin dress. The two of them obviously hadn’t discussed what they were wearing and it showed, which irritated Niecey to no end. M’Baku really couldn’t care less, but she was seriously upset about how they’d look together in pictures.

“You couldn’t find a black tux?” she asked him just before they walked in after seething in the car the whole twenty minute ride over. 

“I had plenty of options, but I wore this because it reminded me of formal Jabari attire.” he fought to keep his eyes from rolling. 

“Ugh fine, hopefully we won’t look too bad. Come on.” she walked ahead of him as he handed the valet his keys and they entered the gala. People mingled about, eating and drinking and no doubt opening their pocketbooks. Even the dance floor had a decent amount of people swaying to the jazz music coming from the live band.

However, nothing could have prepared M’Baku for how beautiful Monae looked that night. She happened to be looking towards the door at the moment he walked in and their eyes met from across the room. She had paired a spaghetti strap bronze silk gown with a split up her left thigh with strappy nude heels that made it look like she was walking on her tiptoes all night and her favorite delicate gold drop earrings that dusted her collarbone. They held each other’s gaze for a little too long, and both of their dates noticed but chose not to say anything.

M’Baku and Neicey made their way through the crowd, stopping periodically to speak to their colleagues. She tried to avoid Monae by ignoring that side of the room entirely, but M’Baku eventually steered them right in her direction.

“Monae, Darrin. How are you two this evening?” he asked as they approached the couple.

“It’s actually Derrick-”

“Oh, my apologies.”

Monae fought to keep a laugh in.

“I’m Neicey,” she inserted herself in the conversation with an attitude that rubbed both Monae and M’Baku the wrong way. 

“Nice to meet you Neicey,” Derrick responded before taking a sip of his champagne.

“Thank you... Derrick, was it?”

“That’s me. So do you work here with these two?”

“I do, but we’re in different departments. Although I guess M’Baku doesn't really have a department,” she laughed and Derrick was the only one that joined her. The two of them continued to get acquainted while M’Baku and Monae tried to avoid each other's gaze. However They were unsuccessful and ended up locking eyes across Derrick and Neicey’s conversation, but when Derrick looked up to bring in M’Baku he saw the look of adoration on the man’s face as he stared longingly at Monae. Derrick couldn’t believe this man was so bold as to stare at his fiancee like that right in front of him.. 

“Hey man, so I hear you’re only in town  for a short while. When are you leaving?” Derrick asked with a certain gruffness in his voice. 

“Derrick, don’t be rude,” Monae whispered to him, shooting an apologetic smile M’Baku’s way. Derrick brushed her off and continued his line of questioning.

“I’m just curious. When are you going back to Wakanda?” 

“I will be here two more months,” M’Baku stood tall. “And you?” He threw back.

“We’ll be moving in a couple weeks actually,” he looked down at Monae as her jaw clenched. “Monae’s still not happy about it though, are you Momo?”

She gave him a forced smile, “We don’t need to talk about that right now, let’s just have a good time.”

“There you are! Damn, y’all clean up nice.” N’Jadaka said as he and T’Challa made their way over to greet M’Baku and company. Both Udakus had on black tuxes with silk scarves draped over their left shoulders, the prince’s a shiny gold and the king’s a bold purple. 

“Thanks, so do you two,” Neicey responded. 

“I wouldn’t be brave enough to rock a scarf like that.” Derrick added.

“Yes, well you-“

“Look nice in your tux,” T’Challa cut off M’Baku, shooting him a look.  “Actually Derrick we were wondering if you would give us some, uh, legal advice. We have a few questions about opening a pro-Bono legal clinic.”

“That’s not my specialty, but sure.”

“Fantastic!. We need you to meet some people. Monae do you mind if we steal him away from you?”

“By all means…”

The three men walked away as M’Baku caught Shuri’s eye across the room. She and Nakia were slowly making their way over to them, but kept being stopped and roped into conversations with various prospective donors.

“So, Monae. Where are you moving to?” Neicey asked, hoping it was somewhere far, far away.

“That’s a complicated answer right now-“

“So you’re staying?”

“Like I said, it's complicated,” she deadpanned and grabbed another flute of champagne from a passing waiter, placing her empty one back on the tray.

“I guess.” she shrugged before turning back to her date. “M’Baku let’s get a real drink from the bar, not this bubbly mess.” She tried to pull him towards the bar, but he didn’t budge.

“Monae, would you like to join us? I do not want to just leave you here all alone,” he offered as Shuri and Nakia came up behind him.

“Thank you, but I’ll let the two of you spend some time together,” she said with a sarcastic tone that only M’Baku picked up on. “Besides, these gorgeous ladies just showed up to keep me company.” She gestured to the royalty in their presence and M’Baku turned around to greet them.

“My Queen, Princess, you both look lovely this evening.” 

Nakia wore a floor-length eggplant gown with a sweetheart neckline with matching opera gloves and emerald jewelry. Shuri surprisingly had on heels with her black jumpsuit that was covered in gold embroidery. They both looked regal, even more so than usual.

“Thanks, you don’t look too bad yourself. And Monae, this bronze is stunning! Did you two come together?” Shuri asked, accidentally stirring the pot. M’Baku could feel Neicey seething on the other side of him.

“No, we did,” she said as she grabbed onto his arm.

“Oh I’m sorry, I just thought with the outfits- nevermind. I love the sequins.”

“Thank you.”

An awkward silence followed, but Nakia broke it before it could go on too long.

“How has your class been going? I hear great things from the kids,” Nakia asked, declining a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. 

“Oh they’re a dream to work with. Have you seen their latest project? Last week I taught them about revisionist history and they’ve been researching real historical facts and performing skits based around their subject. You have to come by and see it. They’re so good!”

“I’ll stop by on Monday for sure,” Nakia responded. “Since your class is so popular I’d love it if you could come with me to talk to some of our donors.”

“Sure but M’Ba-“

“He’ll be fine. Plus I think the Princess needs him for something anyway.” Nakia led her away from her date and over to the only group of rich Black folks in the room.

Shuri turned to wink at M’Baku and tried to slip away before Monae could notice her escape since she had turned to talk to one of her art teachers and his wife, but Monae caught her at the last second..

“So, princess, quick question-“

“Princess? You know I’m just Shuri to you, Monae.”

“Not when you look like that you’re not. Did she say yes?”

“Yes! She’s right over there mingling with some of the other tech nerds,” she pointed to a short, shapely, bald girl in a jumpsuit just like Shuri’s. “Her name is Tae. Isn’t she just the cutest?”

“Absolutely adorable,” M’Baku smiled at his friend, happy she had finally been able to make a move. 

“Well, I should go mingle some more. I’ll catch you two later! Again, love the matching outfits,” Shuri said as she skirted away. She picked up a champagne flute, but before she could even bring it to her lips, her brother came out of nowhere and snatched it from her grasp.

“You’re too young.”

“Oh come on, I can drink at home!”

“This isn’t Wakanda, and you’re not 21. We have to present a good image for the donors-“

“We don’t even need donors, we have more than enough money to fund the center.”

“Yes, but people want to have a say in what goes on in their communities and rich people like to throw money around. Who am I to deny them that right?”

“You just like taking colonizer’s money,” she whispered to him and he responded with a wink before sipping from the confiscated champagne flute. 

“You’re starting to get it.” He walked away with a smug look on his face to find his wife in the crowd. Shuri rolled her eyes and went to go keep Tae company.

Meanwhile, Monae and M’Baku finally got a moment alone. 

“You look absolutely beautiful tonight. This dress is very distracting.”

“Thank you. You know, sometimes I forget you’re a chief but right now you really do look like royalty. Hell, all you Wakandans do.”

“You say that as though you do not look like a queen yourself.”

Monae blushed and he held out his arm towards her.

“Want a real drink?”

“God, yes.” 

He laughed and led her to the open bar, ordering them both whiskey, his neat and hers on ice.

“How did you know I was a whiskey girl?”

“I did my research on your home, too. I figured Jack Daniels was a safe bet.”

“And the ice?”

“You ask for extra ice on everything, so I just assumed-“

“Correctly.”

They smiled at each other and continued flirting back and forth by the bar until they caught the eye of a jealous lover. Derrick stormed over to the bar and stood between them.

“Are you having fun?” he asked Monae, back turned to M’Baku.

“Derrick stop being rude, we were in the middle of a conversation-“

“Yeah I saw. I’m ready to get out of here, let’s go.”

“We haven’t been here that long-“

“I said let’s go.”

M’Baku didn’t like the tone of voice he used when speaking to her, so he stepped in, squaring up with Derrick

“I think the lady-“

“Did I ask you?” he raised his voice as he turned to face the chief. “No, I didn’t. Monae, let’s- fuck, where’d she go?” When turned back around she was gone.

“I will go find her.”

“Nah big man, you’ve done enough. I’ll go find my girl.” And with that, he was off, leaving M’Baku at the bar alone. He threw back his drink right as N’Jadaka approached.

“Yo what’s up with you?”

“I am going to kill him.”

“Who, Demarcus?”

“Yes. He is too controlling of her.”

“Well it’s not like you’ll have to deal with him much longer.” The prince said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Hey where’d your date disappear to?”

M’Baku shrugged and N’Jadaka chuckled before something caught his eye.

“There’s your girl.” He nodded towards the entryway, and M’Baku turned around to see Monae and Derrick having what looked to be a very quiet heated argument. As luck would have it, Neicey reappeared at that moment.

“Hey cutie, miss me?” She clung to his arm and he felt his blood pressure rise. She noticed the tension in his shoulders. “What’s up with you?”

“Monae’s fiance is being a dick,” N’Jadaka answered for him, prompting Neicey to roll her eyes.

“Again with all the Monae talk? I’m so tired of hearing about that bitch-”

M’Baku’s head had never turned so fast, and N’Jadaka was seriously concerned for Neicey’s safety for a moment.

“What did you just call her?” M’Baku asked for clarification, making sure he heard her right.

“How about we all chill out. Neicey, wanna dance?”

“Sure, why not. It’s not like he was gonna ask me anyway.”

N’Jadaka gave M’Baku a look that told him to relax before escorting Neicey to the dance floor. 

M’Baku looked back up to find Monae and she was nowhere in sight, so he made his way towards the doors to see if she had maybe gone outside for some air. She hadn’t, they had just gone around the corner to argue in peace. Yet again, he caught the tail end of their disagreement.

“You never want to support anything I do, Derrick. I’m tired of it.”

“Well I’m tired of you flirting with that chief guy.”

“That ‘chief guy’ has a name-”

“Do I look like I care? Look, we’re leaving for LA in two weeks. Do you think you can keep your legs closed until then?”

Monae was stunned, mostly because she had no comeback. She had already opened her legs for M’Baku, but Derrick didn’t know that. Thankfully he took her shock for offense and tried to backtrack.

“I didn’t mean it to sound that way-”

“Yes you did.”

“Monae, I-”

“No. Derrick I’m tired of doing this back and forth. You don’t respect me and you never have. I can’t keep doing this-”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying we’re done, Derrick. You can go to LA and be this big, successful entertainment lawyer all you want now. I’m done.” She took the ring off her finger and handed it back to him.

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him, waiting for a response.

“You think you can live the  life I could provide for you on your teacher’s salary?” his voice was low and full of rage.

“Oh honey, I make way more than the average teacher. They actually pay us here, so I’ll be fine. You’re not needed.”

He was fuming.

“Fine! Don’t come crawling back to me when he leaves you behind.”

And with that, Derrick turned and left the gala.

M’Baku wasn’t sure of what to do, should he go to her or give her space? He heard her sniffles and quickly made up his mind.

“Monae-”

“What?!” she yelled before she could register the voice that was speaking to her since she kept her back towards the door so nobody would see her tears.

“Monae, I am sorry.”

She broke down upon really hearing his voice.

“It’s not your fault, it was bound to happen anyway. It’s just hard to let go of so many years, you know?”

“I understand, I have been there. I am still sorry for my part in this and how it led to hurting you.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yes, she broke my heart so I had to let her go, but the situation was very different. Can I get you anything?”

She smiled through her tears at his attempt to be helpful.

“No I just need to clean up, and get back out there.” she pointed to the restrooms. He waited for her while she went in to dry her tears and fix her makeup. As he did, he caught sight of N’Jadaka and Neicey sneaking out together and let out a chuckle. At least that situation was taken care of, now he could focus all his energy on Monae.

When she emerged her makeup was once again flawless and M’Baku couldn’t help but stare at her beauty.

“What? Did I miss a spot?” she panicked

“No, just taking it all in,” he said with a whimsical smile on his face.

She blushed and reached to grab his arm before stopping herself.

“Where’s Neicey? I don’t want her chomping my damn head off for being within a 5 foot radius of you.”

M’Baku laughed. “Oh, she will not be a problem anymore, I just saw N’Jadaka take her home for the night.”

“Of course he did,” Monae wrapped her arm around M’Baku’s large bicep. He led her back into the gala just as T’Challa was finishing up his speech.

“-and to the donors, we raise our glasses to you for your continued support and interest in bettering the community. We couldn’t do this without you.”

Shuri scoffed and Nakia fought to hide a smile, nudging her sister-in-law to keep her quiet.

“Please, continue to utilize our open bar and try some of the hors d'oeuvres our wonderful wait staff are carrying around the room. Enjoy your night, and we appreciate your generosity.” Nakia added.

Everyone clapped as the three royals exited the stage.

“Where the hell is N’Jadaka?” T’Challa asked M’Baku when he made his way over.

“Oh he’s busy with Neicey.”

“N- ohhh. That’s great!” he noticed Monae's confused face and dialed it back a little. “I mean, good for him.”

Monae could tell something was up, but she’d get it out of M’Baku later. 

“Nice speech, T. I can already see the money rolling in. You know, rich white folks love easing their guilty consciences.” 

“Thank you, Monae. The more they give us, the less we have to put up, and the more centers we can open and do the same thing all over again.” T’Challa said softly through a fake smile as some of those rich white people walked within earshot of the conversation.

“Have you looked at other locations?”

“We have, it is difficult to narrow down cities. We want to stay in the US for now, but eventually we could become global.”

“You should look into Nashville. It’s crawling with gentrifiers, and North Nashville has one of the highest incarceration rates in the country. For Black folks, of course.”

“Really? I was unaware of that. North Nashville, you say... I am assuming that is a Black neighborhood?”

“Not for much longer,” she said with a deep sadness in her face that the king took note of. “But an Outreach Center could really help the community.”

“I will keep that in mind, thank you. So….” The king looked on expectantly.

“Sooo…?” Monae asked back before he gestured to the two of them. She playfully rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what you mean.”

M’Baku chuckled at both of their antics.

“I’m sure you don’t…” T’Challa said as he walked away to go mingle with the crowd some more.

“How long do these things usually last?” M’Baku leaned down and said with his lips grazing her ear. 

“I don't know, this is my first gala. Why, tired of it already?”

“Honestly, yes. I would much rather be on my couch right about now, the collars on these button up shirts are extremely uncomfortable.”

“Let’s go then. I’m not in the mood to deal with people, and that couch sounds real good right about now.”

-------

Had she been thinking, Monae would’ve run home real quick to change, but there she was barefoot in an evening  gown  in M’Baku’s kitchen going through his fridge to find something to eat.

“We should order in, those hors d'oeuvres weren’t enough.”

“What do you have a taste for?” M’Baku rounded the corner in grey sweatpants and a black tank and it took everything in Monae to not jump him right then and there.

“Honestly? You, but I’m also not in the mood. You can’t just walk around looking like that, it’s not fair.”

He cornered her against the counter, arms on either side of her.

“And you walking around here in this gown is unfair to me, yet here you are.” he looked down at her erect nipples, stiff from the chill of his loft. He had turned the thermostat up to 70 for her, but that was as high as he was willing to go.

He kissed her forehead and backed up, trying not to stare too hard at her heaving chest.

“M’Baku, I might need some time. I’m still kind of in a weird headspace right now and-”

“I understand, which is why I have a surprise for you.”

Her face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “What is it?”

“You will have to come over here to find out.” He said with a chuckle, walking towards the living area and plopping on the couch. She joined him shortly after and he picked up the remote. When he pressed play tears came to her eyes as she heard the twinkling sounds of the opening to her favorite movie.

“You remembered?” she asked through the couple tears that had escaped her eyes. One day during their many lunches, she had mentioned that her favorite feel-good movie was The Wiz and since he had never seen it, she vowed to change that. Now here he was, pulling out all the stops.

“Of course I did, I have been making my own ‘Captain America’ list.”

“So have I! It’s on my phone, I’ll grab it after the movie.”

They decided to order pizza and she settled into the couch, but couldn’t get comfortable in her dress.

“Let me get you a change of clothes. It might be a little big-”

“A little? I’m like a foot shorter than you, I’ll be swimming in whatever you give me.”

He chuckled and motioned for her to follow him. She paused the movie right as Toto ran into the snowstorm and got up, trying not to trip over her dress since she no longer had on her heels. 

M’Baku found a t-shirt for her to wear and got to looking for pants when she stopped him.

“This should be fine, you’ve already seen everything and this’ll be like a dress on me anyway.” she said, undoing her side zipper and letting the gown fall to the ground before reaching for the shirt. He snatched it away from her and held it up high, forcing her to either climb him or jump for it. She chose the latter and he was too distracted by her bouncing breasts to keep the shirt out of reach. She snatched it from his hand and threw it on, sticking her tongue out at him in the process.

“Do that again, and I will find a much better use for your tongue.” he warned her as they made their way back to the couch.

Monae blushed and plopped down next to him, tucking her legs under her and leaning into M’Baku. He put his arm around her so she could lean in closer and his hand rested on her waist while his fingers mindlessly traced patterns into her side. They stayed like that until the pizza arrived and got right back into position after they ate.

She knew every line and lyric, and M’Baku found himself watching her more than the movie. She was beaming the whole time except when sang along to “Home” through her usual tears.

“Why are you sad?” he asked, wiping them away. She smiled at his concern.

“I’m not sad, it’s just an emotional song. It always gets me” she spoke while dabbing her eyes with a clean napkin. “Ready to see my list?”

“I was born ready.”

She grabbed her phone from the charger while he grabbed a notebook off the coffee table. When she returned, she got right back into the same position tucked into his side and turned her phone on to see several voicemails from Derrick. She rolled her eyes and unlocked her phone, going to her notes app and pulling up her very own “Captain America List”.

“Ok, you go first!”

M’Baku opened his notebook and flipped through the pages for a moment before he found what he was looking for.

“Well I can cross off The Wiz. It is an excellent movie by the way, but I already knew you had good taste,” he said cockily. She nudged him in his side. “This is what I have so far: The Autobiography of Malcolm X, Lemonade (but not the drink), spades, Roots, The Color Purple, and Friday.”

“Ok, ok, good start. Here’s some more, and this is not an exhaustive list. I will be adding more.” She cleared her throat, “So far I have: The New Jim Crow, Homecoming, “the cookout”, the Harlem Renaissance, Kindred, Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater, Pose, and T’Challa’s Black Jeopardy sketch.“

M’Baku scribbled it all down as she spoke, and she was tickled by his intense concentration. 

“Anything else?”

“That’s it for now. Where did you get yours from?”

“N’Jadaka and Deontae. Tell me about what’s on your list.”

“Well first we have The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander. It’s a really depressing book, but if you want to understand white supremacy in this country and how it still operates today, this is a must. Homecoming because not only is it a flawless performance by Beyoncé Giselle Knowles-Carter-”

“I believe I have heard some of her music, she is very talented.”

“Oh-ho-ho, just you wait. It’s not just about her though, you’ll get a feel for the HBCU experience and that’s important. You have to go to a cookout at least once. I’m gonna try to convince N’Jadaka to throw one at his place, I can’t describe in any other words than Black as fuck. The only thing that beats it is a family reunion. Next we have the Harlem Renaissance which is a whole time period of Black creativity. Authors, artists, musicians, you name it. Kindred is one of my favorite books, it’s sci-fi and has time travel but as I’m sure you can guess, that doesn’t work well for Black people in this country.”

M’Baku could listen to her talk for days and almost got lost in her lips until she caught him and shocked him from his daze.

“Are you listening?”

“I-I am sorry, you are just so beautiful. Please, keep going, I want to hear more.”

“Where was I?” she asked as a heat crept up her cheeks. “Oh, um, right. So, Alvin Ailey because I’m a dancer so obviously I would pick that, and Pose because it’s a really good show and you’ll learn some about the AIDS crisis and how Black and Brown queer and trans people are treated here. Newsflash: not that good. Last, we have T’Challa’s SNL sketch. Oh my god, you have to watch it, he’s actually really funny. That’s all I have for now, but I’ll add more as it comes to me.”

“Tell me about my list.” he requested, continuing to stare at her lips as she spoke again.

“Your list?”

“Mhm.” he said, looking at her dreamily. It was late so she couldn't tell if he was simply tired or enamoured by her. Probably both. 

“Ok, well, let me see here…” she looked over his list. “Autobiography of Malcolm X, another must. Do you know who he is?”

“Yes, I learned of him when I was researching your people’s history. He was quite a polarizing character, but I agree with his stance.”

“I actually have all of these books, I’ll bring them to you on Monday. Next up is...Lemonade! This is from Deontae, isn't it?”

“How did you guess?”

“He’s a huge Beyoncé fan and I know damn well this didn’t come from Prince Charming.”

“You think he is charming?” M’Baku asked with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a character from some old story...and Shrek 2. Anyways, yes, Lemonade the movie not the drink. Spades? Oh, N’Jadaka’s trying to get you killed. Black people do not play when it comes to spades. It’s a card game, I’ll teach you. Roots is a book and a miniseries about a family going through the horrors of slavery. The Color Purple...now reading the book is recommended, but you have to watch the movie. References galore, same with Friday. It’s hilarious, quotable, and about smoking weed. What more could you ask for?”

“Weed?”

A slow grinch-like smile crept up Monae’s face.

“Have you ever smoked before? Eaten an edible?”

“No, it never appealed to me.”

A belly laugh erupted out of Monae and M’Baku stared at her in confusion.

“Oh my god, you got me feeling like Smokey, but my nigga...I’m getting you high. You gotta do it at least once.”

“I will try it for you.”

Monae was giddy and although he couldn't understand where her excitement was coming from, he was looking forward to finding out. 

-------

The next morning M’Baku woke up to the feel of movement on his left side. His eyes slowly blinked open as he watched Monae attempt to sneak away from him.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stretching his body and sitting up from the couch. They had fallen asleep around 4am after talking and drinking wine all night, and although the couch was not the most comfortable to sleep on, M’Baku was. Monae slept like a baby, but M’Baku’s neck would probably be hurting for the next day or so.

“As much as we drank last night, where do you think?”

“Someone is feisty in the morning.”

“No, I’m feisty when I’m trying not to pee on myself.”

M’Baku chuckled as she ran down the hallway towards the bathroom. A couple minutes later she poked her head into the hallway.

“Do you have an extra toothbrush I can use?”

“Bottom drawer.”

“Thanks!”

The chief had just finished his morning stretches when Monae reappeared and he took her place. When he emerged, she had eggs and vegetables sitting on the counter and was rummaging through his cabinets. He saw her standing on her tiptoes trying to grab a frying pan that was just out of her reach and he came up behind her to grab it for her. He handed it to her and bent down to lightly kiss her on the neck and whisper in her ear.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

A chill went down her spine as she fought to focus on the task at hand.

“Good morning, handsome.”

He turned her around to face him.

“So you think I am handsome?” he teased, leaning in closer to her lips as her arms made their way around his neck.

“Of course.” She closed the distance and gave him a soft peck, and he responded by pulling her in for a real kiss, tongue and all. 

“You know…” she started.

“What?”

“I’m single now…”

“Really? I was not aware,” M’Baku said sarcastically. She playfully hit his chest and his deep, rumbling laugh filled the room.

“Ok, ok I will stop,” he grinned at her.

“As I was saying, since I’m single now I can do whatever I want.”

“Whoever, you mean.”

“Exactly, and it’s a very short list,” she gave him a light kiss. “But first, breakfast!” she pulled away, much to his dismay, but he let her turn back around towards the counter. He held her waist and rested his head on top of hers.

“You know, the more you distract me the longer it’ll take to eat.”

“I do not care,” he said, squeezing her tighter. “Unless you want help, in which case I can be an excellent assistant.”

“I’d like that, actually. Grab a knife and start cutting up the onion while I put on some music.”

The two of them danced around the kitchen to Monae’s “Good Morning” Spotify playlist, M’Baku catching everything she threw back at him and surprising her by being light on his feet. After he finished chopping up the onions, mushrooms, spinach, and tomatoes, he tried to reach for the pan, but Monae’s hand was quicker and beat him to it.

“Nope! I’m cooking breakfast as a thank you.”

“For what?” his head tilted to the side and he gave her a curious glance. 

“For...well, everything. It’s been a good month and you’ve been a good friend to me, even though we both know you were always more than a friend...the point is, thank you for being there for me and for making me laugh and for letting me stay the night.”

“Of course, that is what friends do.” he kissed her on the neck again as he walked by to grab dishes from the cabinet. Monae took the apple slices she had just cut and covered them in cinnamon and nutmeg before tossing them in the now-hot skillet. The coconut oil popped her a little, but she was used to it since she had been cooking for years. She let the apples cook down and continued to dance on her own while M’Baku recorded her moves on his rarely-used kimoyo beads.

She put on a show for him, rolling her hips and bouncing her ass extra hard, his t-shirt flying up so that he could get a glimpse of her pussy. She dropped it low to Megan Thee Stallion’s “Cry Baby” before bringing it back up slowly and checking on the apples, which were just about done. She started sauteing up the chopped vegetables and cracked a few eggs into a bowl before whipping them up and pouring them into the skillet. She scrambled up the eggs while she cracked open an avocado and placed slices of it on toast on both plates. M’Baku watched her make herself at home in his space and he wondered for a moment what it would be like to wake up every morning to this, and not just for the next two months.

His thoughts were cut short by her calling his name.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I am sorry, I just...you really are enchanting.”

Her bottom lip found its place between her teeth as she handed him his plate. He dug into his honey avocado toast, vegetable scramble, and fried apples like he hadn't eaten in days. When he finished he leaned back and rubbed his stomach in slow circles.

“You are the second best cook I have ever met.”

“Second? The first better be your mama-”

He chuckled at how easily she gets riled up.

“In fact, it is. You two would get along great, she is feisty just like you.”

“No wonder you have good taste in women,” she winked at him as she got up to grab their dishes. He reached for them, but she swatted his hand away. “Aht! This is a ‘thank you’, remember? You can wash them next time.”

She put the dishes in the sink before rinsing one off and placing it in the dishwasher when M’Baku came up behind her, holding her hips and grinding into her.

“I cannot wait to thank you,” he said slowly as he kissed from her ear to her collarbone. Monae was frozen on the spot, stuck under his spell, pussy throbbing more with every touch of his lips and every whisper. 

“What are you waiting for?” She pushed her ass into him, feeling his thick, juicy dick sitting on her lower back. Those sweatpants weren’t holding anything down, and she was thankful for the print she saw when she looked behind her, prompting her to turn around and grab it, forcing the chief to let out a rumbling moan.

“N-not now, I want to take you out first on a real date.”

“Ugh, then why are you doing this to me? I’m horny as fuck, M’Baku.”

He chuckled and leaned in to kiss her softly, speaking against her lips, “Because I want your body ready for me.”

She shivered as he backed away from her and left the kitchen, heading towards the dining area to finish clearing off the table.

“So about this date. When are you free?”

“I’m free all weekend,” she said as his gap toothed smile grew bigger across his face.

“Well then how about this: I take you home, then I come back for you later and we go to the festival you mentioned last night.”

She did a little celebratory dance before jumping up to kiss him on the cheek and running to his room to put her dress back on. They both slid on their shoes and were out the door in minutes, Monae extra excited to get their date started.

 On the way to Monae’s apartment, they both ignored the confused looks from the passersby as they took in the sight of a man in sweatpants walking hand in hand down the street with a woman in a shiny evening gown. When they reached her building, M’Baku held the door open for her as they entered. He walked her to her door and gave her another featherlight kiss.

“See you soon.”

“See you soon.”

She unlocked her door and stepped in, closing it behind her and taking a deep breath before leaning her back against it and letting out a dreamy sigh. She couldn’t believe it was finally happening.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @devnicolee

[fabricated-misslieness]

Peter Parker x gender neutral reader with powers

Powers inspired by Fetch from Infamous Second Son

(I made this moodboard earlier on in the week to keep inspiration, since I didn’t have the time to write this then. This basically describes the reader)

Part 2 here

Requested: No

Word Count: 2512

Warnings: Swearing

Everyone knew (y/n) as the star of the track team, but to certain others he was a little more than that.

To the people in your classes, you were the quiet kid, the one that the teacher always seemed to forget to call. Yet they couldn’t seem to be that angry at your luck, maybe it was your charm, or maybe it was that sweet smile of yours.

To the quiet, shyer students, you were the nice popular kid, the one that would pull bullies away from others whenever you saw a situation arise. Ironically, the bullies were usually other popular kids.

To the popular kids, you were the one that they all liked, despite not talking much. You could say one sentence in an entire conversation and it would make them grow fonder of you.

To the kids in your art class, you were the one that always had a tip for their artwork, a tip that never failed to help. You were the artistic kid who got praise from everyone and would not hesitate to praise back.

To your best friends, you were crazy, in the good way. You had a risk to try every day and a gorgeous hide-away spot hidden in plain sight. But you had the tendency to disappear without a trace, though you were always back by a day or two. As for where you went, it was a mystery. They asked, but you never gave a direct answer.

To Peter Parker, you were someone that gave him subtle hints. Hints to what, he didn’t know, but you always winked when you saw him and didn’t have the time to speak, which was rare. You usually approached him, gave him a suave greeting, and sometimes a small pick up line. Ned told him they were pick up lines, but he didn’t actually believe that they were. The constant of the confusing equation that you were, though, was your smile. It was genuine. Not pitiful, not forced, not mocking, but truly, truly genuine.

It felt nice for someone, someone who wasn’t all that close to him, to smile at him in that way. He was used to the pitiful stares from people who knew what happened to his family, the forced ones he got from people trying to act nice, the mocking ones he got from Flash and his friends when they taunted him.

But to Spider-Man, you were an enigma. He’d usually find you spray painting the side of a building. Of course, he didn’t know it was you. Your ‘disguise’, he called it a disguise but it clearly wasn’t one, was a painting mask, one that blocked toxic paint fumes, and a beanie. Really, it was that simple. 

You couldn’t blame him, though, anytime you had the small gut feeling he, or for that matter any other law-abiding citizen, was nearby, you’d bolt.

Your powers came in handy for that.

Speaking of which, he wanted to know where those powers came from, if they were tech or superpowers, if you ever had to replenish, if they consumed something like energy, if you could do something other than run faster and let the trails linger, and several other questions.

Everything you did with them left a neon red glow or  trail, sometimes you even used them for your artwork.

Anyway, what even was the crime you did for Spider-Man to come after you?

Vandalism, straight up graffiti. That was certainly a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man kinda job, huh? Helping grandmas cross the street, old hispanic ladies get directions, stopping people from loitering where they shouldn’t be… non-Avengers level stuff.

Your graffiti was mostly political/social movement stuff, but sometimes it was a way for you to express yourself.

Nobody knew about your powers, hell, you didn’t even know where they came from. That was why you never told anybody, but man was it a hard secret to hold. Your reason was that they’d push you to become a superhero, like Spider-Man. That, however, wasn’t the biggest of your fears, nor the biggest reason.

You were scared. What would they think of you?

What would they think of the real you? The ‘you’ you wanted to show them.

You sighed, looking at the artwork on the wall. You’d worked as the ideas came to your head, even with how messy it was, it looked good. You felt like it represented you.

Even with how good it felt to paint your feelings out, your recent thoughts about how your friends, or really anybody at all, would react had altered your mood.

“How does Spider-Man do it?” You muttered to yourself. How did he keep a different identity, from superhero to teenager? At least you thought he was a teenager. Every time you ran from him he’d scream for you to “come back” or “slow down”, and he’d always sounded like a teenager.

“How do I do what?” Before you could run just like the other times, he webbed your wrist to the wall, too late to realize it was fresh paint and you had your watch on.

You shrunk back, side-eyeing the artwork and struggling against your restraint, forgetting in a state of panic that you could easily break it with your powers.

Spider-Man could see the panic in your eyes, and he was quick to calm you down.

“Struggling won’t--” No, Peter, that’s not how you reassure someone. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He was relieved to see panic to falter that teeny little bit.

“I just want to make a deal.” It struck him a few seconds later how wrong that sounded. “N-Not a drug deal, or anything.” 

The panic subsided, though the uneasy feeling didn’t. You were amused at his mixup, thought you didn’t show it.

“You stop spray painting areas where you’re not allowed, and I let you go with a warning.”

You raise an eyebrow, pulling down your mask slightly so that he could hear you properly. Peter couldn’t help but think you looked a little attractive that way.

“You’ve seen the activism stuff I’ve done.” He has, and he was all for it, but it was still vandalism. “The world needs to listen, and if they can’t, they have to see.” You stuffed your hands into your pockets. You would’ve assumed that Spider-Man would be all up for it, but it seemed like he wasn’t.

“Trust me, I agree with it, it’s just that it’s illegal.” He crossed his arms as if to intimidate you but it had no effect on you.

You huff, furrowing your eyebrows. “You know that’s bull, Spider-Man.”

“Look, I love your artwork, but you have no permits.” He insisted, which was making you grow more and more agitated.

“You don’t have to be lawful good.” Peter raised his eyebrows at the DND terms, but you couldn’t see that. “These are statements for the world. And they’re—“

Spider-Man gestured towards the graffiti behind you, which was clearly not a statement.

“Alright, you got me there.“ You roll your eyes, “I can stop these, but I will not stop the important ones. I put them in those places because I need the people to see.”

Spider-Man was conflicted. On one hand, you were morally correct. On the other lawful hand, the spray painting was still illegal. He didn’t know how he should act on this.

Once again, he could clearly see you growing frustrated.

He steps forward to put a hand on your shoulder, but as his hand lands on it, your powers let out a neon red shock.

It doesn’t affect you, but it clearly affects him… and the web on your wrist.

He collapses face-first on the ground of the alleyway.

“Shit,” You kneel down next to him. “Of all the times for these stupid powers to backfire, it’s now?”

You stand up, debating on whether or not you should flee from the scene, leaving the red clad superhero on the ground.

Your moral compass was pointing to no. You couldn’t just leave him here alone, he seemed hurt.

You’d never done something like that on accident, not to this degree. Anything else remotely similar had been used as self defense, to some mugger or two, and all it did was stun them for a sec so that you could run away.

You turn him over to check on him.

He appeared to be fine physically, but then again if he’d only fainted he’d be up and running by now. 

You sigh, stretching and getting ready to pick him up because he didn’t exactly look like a light-weight. Now, where was the nearest hideout?

Peter woke up in a sleeping bag. The first thought in his head wasn’t where he was, rather, why was his mask on? 

He moved to take it off but then remembered what happened last night.

Then he asked himself, where am I?

He strained to sit up. It felt like he’d been hit by a truck several times.

He first looked down because his head throbbed with a splitting headache. When he found himself stable enough, he looked at his surroundings. 

The first thing he’d noted to himself was that this was definitely not his bedroom, nor was it a place he recognized.

The second thing was, the place was dirty as all hell, it looked to be an abandoned warehouse. The only furniture seemed to be placed there by squatters, which was technically what you were, since this was your hideout.

You walked carrying a dunkin donuts bag. “You’re up?”

Without the beanie and the mask, he could finally see who you were. “(y/n)?” He whispered under his breath, hoping you wouldn’t catch that. You were the person who gave him hints, and also the star of the track team. No wonder you were able to run away from him that fast, even with your powers. He felt stupid, it was so obvious who you were.

“Yeah, that’s me.” You snicker, sitting next to him. You take note of the way he sways as he sits as if he were dazed, which he most likely was. “I’m going to assume you know me. As much as I’d like to guess who you were, I think that’d be a bit rude.”

Despite how dizzy he felt, Peter couldn’t help but notice you acted as if whatever happened in that alleyway didn’t happen.

You were being nice to him, even when he started that argument.

“I brought food, even if you won’t eat it in front of me.” You hand him a sandwich and a cup of water. Peter nods, taking the drinks but keeping them next to him. “I checked you for any serious injuries, had to pull back your suit.”

You notice the way he leans back from you, you take it as a sign of worry.

“Don’t worry, there was nothing serious. I didn’t check under your mask either, if you’re worried about that too.” You thought he would’ve assumed you didn’t from your previous comment about his identity, but panic can make you forget things, you guess. “Just bruises, and I think I gave you a concussion. They’re probably from that red burst... sorry about that by the way.”

“Probably?” He asked.

You hummed a yes, rubbing the back of your neck. “I don’t actually know much about these powers.” You played with the neon light of the glow stick you always carried around with you, in case you ever needed a recharge. You ‘pulled’ the light from the stick, admiring it. Spider-Man seemed to admire it too, though probably in an investigative manner.

After a while of molding it into different forms, you put it back on the stick. Peter took that as a sign to speak up.

“You don’t mind me knowing your identity?”

You stare up at him with a cheeky smile. Peter thought you looked beautiful under the red glow of the glowstick. “I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

Peter flushes a bright red, thankful for his mask. He nods slowly, pretending he was processing the information.

“I should.. leave.” He stands up, a little too fast for his dizziness. As a consequence, he nearly falls back down, if it weren’t for your fast reflexes.

“I think you should stay a while.” Your smile was wonderful. “Wait ‘till you feel fine.”

Peter looked out the small windows of the warehouse, it was still dark out. That was a relief, since that day, or maybe tomorrow who knows, was a school day. “Okay.” He mutters adorably. He plops back down on the sleeping bag.

You sit next to him again, taking a bite of your own sandwich. “I don’t imagine you’re actually hungry.” He nods back at you.

“You should take these back.” He makes an effort to shove the items back in your bag, but you stop him before he can.

“No, you should keep them.” He can tell you seem worried.

“Y’know, I think my concussion is--” He tries to stand up, yet you pull him back down.

You gave him an all-knowing look, “It’s not. You’re still swaying.”

You see the spider eyes narrow at you, and you can’t help but think he’s adorable. It’s almost like Peter trying to figure out if you’re flirting with him or not. “You’re nice.”

“I caused your concussion.” You reply.

Right, you were the one that pulled Flash away from him. He’d heard the stories from the other kids, too. Man, you seemed absolutely perfect.

The rest of his time with you he insists on making small talk, even if you tell him not talking might help him rest up more. You weren’t exactly sure if it would, and he wasn’t either, which was one of the reasons he insisted.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to stop swaying. He had a small headache, which would most likely last for the rest of the day, but the dizziness had left him.

His main priority was to get out of there, not only to get home, but also because you were making him flustered. You liked teasing Spider-Man, despite not indulging in blush because of the mask. You could tell by the way he looked down or how he fiddled with his fingers.

“I think I’m good now.” You made him stand up to make sure he was telling the truth.

He passed that simple test so you showed him towards the exit.

You checked your phone, “12 am.”

He nods, sandwich bag webbed up to the drink for easier carriage. “Uh..” You hadn’t expected Spider-Man to be this awkward. “Thanks..?”

“Yeah,” You smile. “No problem.”

He turns to head out but you stop him with a hand on his shoulder. He nearly jumps back when you press a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“See ya around?” Your smile turned cheeky.

“Y-Yeah!” He exclaims out nervously. A second later, he’s right out the door. Even if he has a mask on, he’s not risking embarrassing himself in front of you.

“God, why do I have to be so awkward?”