#still fucking busting my mind with this stupid timeline

[moondoposting]

itd be cool if avatars of khonshu could access former avatars' memories. like in uh. avatar. the last airbender. where you can explore the memories and experienced of previous incarnations.

like, im thinking if they needed to solve some mystery and access an ollllddd avatar of khonshu's memories to see something that happened thousands of years ago. or even harrow's memories to see what event made him break away from khonshu. i think it was probably some time during the hunt for ammit's tomb, when harrow realised the differences between ammit and khonshu's ideology and switched sides. some hot betrayal shit.

#still fucking busting my mind with this stupid timeline #cause it means khonshu has been searching for ammits tomb for like. at least 15 years. girl how is it this hard #would also be an interesting device if they go the route of convincing jake to dump khonshu #show him how awful hes been to all his avatars #tho personally i dont think jake is naive to that fact... khonshu just enables him to help people so he endures it #blah blah words words i shojld actually be writing but im doing thiss #moon knight

[softtransbf]

Thought about finding out Winn can sing, and this pre-relationship ficlet demanded I write it down. (timeline wise, it's post him getting over Kara but before he left catco)

----------------

Shit I can't believe I left it here, today of all days. The elevator felt even slower than usual as my mind raced with all the ways having forgotten my laptop at work was going to blow up in my face. Breathe. It's okay. I still have time, I can still have it ready by tomorrow. The doors finally opened, and all of my attempts to manage my anxiety went out the window.

I started to run to my desk, but something stopped me dead in my tracks after just a few steps. It was faint, but definitely there- someone was singing, a jaw-droppingly beautiful love song from one of my favorite musicals. It's 8 pm, who the fuck is still here? And who here has a voice like that? The voice was so amazing, I completely forgot about my laptop. I needed to know whose it was.

It took less time than I thought it would- he was sitting at the desk right next to mine, headphones in and lost in his work, completely unaware he wasn't alone.

Winn Schott. Of course it's Winn. I'd been making real progress in letting my one-sided crush go; of course the universe wasn't gonna let me off that easily. I felt my heart swell and break all over again, and it snapped me out of the spell his voice had cast on me. Shit, right, my laptop. Fuck. He can't know I'm here. I knew I'd do something stupid if I had to talk to him then and there, alone and more in love with him than ever, so I quietly took the long way around the office, grabbed my laptop, and snuck back out.

Once I was safely in the elevator, I finally exhaled. Mission accomplished, he didn't see me. Now to bust ass so Cat doesn't kill me tomorrow and try to forget what I heard.

At least, I thought he hadn't seen me. What I didn't know was that as soon as the elevator doors closed behind me, Winn stopped singing, took out his headphones, and ran a hand through his hair.

"'Hey, Simon, what a surprise, I definitely wasn't thinking about you. I'm basically done here, do you wanna get a drink or something?' Well done, Schott."

#winnposting #my writing

[scuttling]

Territory/Terror - Ch 2

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 4,383 Chapters: 2 of 2, Complete Tags: Canon minor character death (Joyner), Minor background Morgan/Garcia, TW talk of explosion (does not occur on screen), Episode related 4x01 Mayhem Summary: Chapter 2 - Sophie does her best to keep it together and be there for Aaron following the terrorist attack. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 1 year 7 months - 2 years at the BAU Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 Link to A03 or read below! Sophie drives them back to the NYPD command center as quickly as she can after hearing about the explosion; they spend the entire ride discussing theory and trying as hard as possible not to think of what they could be looking at when all is said and done.

“Dave,” Sophie says when they spot him, and he opens his arms to her for a hug. She’s a little surprised, but she takes it, won’t deny the comfort. “We heard about the explosion on the radio.”

“I’ve been trying to reach the others,” Reid adds, and Rossi shakes his head.

“Me too. The cell system is crashing.” Sophie’s eyes are fixed on the tv, but there’s not much information being given.

“It’s a car bomb, did they say where?”

“No, not yet.” He looks to Reid. “Can you recall every site where the shootings occurred?”

“Uh, Hell's Kitchen, Murray Hill, Lower East Side, Chinatown.”

“All right, if our profile is correct and all 8 murders were tests to gauge response times, we're looking at 8 suicide bombers who are about to hit every one of those locations.” He turns to Sophie, who is hovering over a desk phone, trying to reach Aaron, Derek, Penelope, anyone. “Call Homeland Security. Tell them to pour troops into all of those sites.”

“Actually, if we're correct, there'll be 16 suicide bombers,” Reid reminds him. Sophie looks up, between the two of them, from where she’s dialing.

“Sixteen?” Rossi asks.

“Yeah, we predicted that they'll hit the second wave of emergency responders also.” The three of them share a look, and it’s not a good one.

The breaking news banner flashes across the tv screen, catching their attention. “We are just getting an update. The bomb is now reported to have been inside an SUV—a black SUV parked just blocks from 26 Federal Plaza.”

Sophie’s stomach drops, and she dials Homeland Security, fills them in as quickly as possible, before dialing Aaron again.

It goes straight to voicemail. She tries Derek, JJ, Emily, Penelope, and they all go straight to voicemail.

“This is so fucking stupid,” she mutters, frantic, dialing. “Why do we have seven different cars in New York fucking City of all places? It makes no sense.”

“I got Garcia!” Rossi shouts, covering the mouthpiece, and she breathes a tiny bit easier. Half of them are accounted for, they just need to reach the other four. It shouldn’t be too hard.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

Gentle hands cover hers, and Reid says her name, soft. He’s shushing her. She must still be muttering.

“Everything will be okay. We’ll hear from them.” She looks up, and he looks worried, too. That makes her feel better; she pulls him in for a hug.

“I am so glad we were together. If I couldn’t get a hold of you right now, I’d be losing my shit.” He squeezes her, and then steps back.

“This is you not losing your shit?” he teases with an attempt at a smile, and she punches him in the arm. He winces.

At least some things remain constant.

“I spoke to Garcia again,” Rossi says as he walks over to them. His face is grim, and her heart is beating so fast she’s surprised it doesn’t bust out of her chest and take flight. “She got a hold of Derek and Emily. Derek is headed to the scene, Emily’s headed to an NYPD critical incident command post with the detective.”

“No Aaron or JJ?” she asks, wondering what he’s not saying. He doesn’t shake his head no, and she knows what that means. “Dave, please.”

“Garcia found footage of the blast. It was Hotch and Joyner, but they weren’t in the car. They were just walking up to it. We don’t know where they are now, or their condition.”

Sophie feels her eyes water. Her mind is blank. Her worst nightmare is coming true, it’s Aaron, he’s… Reid reaches for her hand again, and she takes a deep breath in through her nose, out through her nose. Then again. She blinks her vision clear.

She knows, now. That’s better. Better than wondering, dialing, waiting to hear. She knows, now. And she knows what to do. She clears her throat.

“We should look at the crime scene photos again. Anything we can do to provide insight to Homeland Security will be a huge help.” She walks quickly toward the board, doesn’t see the look that Reid and Rossi exchange. “We can follow up with them shortly, see if they’ve found anything unusual.”

“Sophie,” Reid says calmly, walking toward her like he’s approaching a startled horse; she looks up at him, shakes her head.

“No, nope. Until we know more, I have to do something. I’m not going to sit here on my hands and wait to find out that he’s dead.” She pulls the hair tie off of her wrist and scrapes her hair back into a ponytail, stands in front of the board. The two of them study it, commenting now and again, while Rossi tries JJ; Emily arrives within a few minutes, with the detective, and then JJ does too. Everyone is filling each other in when Garcia’s voice rings out through the laptop.

“The bomber! The bomber!” They crowd around the screen, and it helps relax Sophie to see her, even if it’s only virtual; six down, two to go.

“What is it, Garcia?”

“Derek's chasing after him.” She looks like she wants to hyperventilate. “The bomb was under Kate’s SUV. Hotch is out there with her. He seems okay, but she looks really hurt. He hasn't moved her.” Sophie could throw up, she’s so relieved, and then she wants to throw up for feeling relieved when Joyner is still seriously injured.

“Where was Kate's SUV parked?” Rossi asks.

“Two blocks east of Federal Plaza.”

“Two blocks east and they target Kate's SUV? Why?” Prentiss asks. It’s a solid question that none of them have an answer for, yet.

“Have you ID'd the bomber?”

“Lisa's running him and the dead guy through VICAP.”

“I’ll call Homeland Security, see if they found anything,” Sophie offers, and she gets on the line. Homeland Security turns out to be a bust; they’re of the mind that the bombing was a failed attack on the federal building and won’t listen to a word she says. She’s ready to throw the phone out the goddamn window when JJ walks up with a promising look on her face.

“Hotch and Kate made it to Saint Barclay's hospital.” Sophie hangs on up the douchebag from Homeland, stands.

“How are they?”

“Well, Hotch is in the ER, Kate's in surgery. Morgan's on his way down there now.” She shoots her a soft, reassuring smile, and Sophie grabs her jacket, pats her pocket for the keys to the SUV.

“I gotta go. I gotta go there.” She frowns, thinking, presses her hand to her forehead. “He’ll need clothes; I’m going back to the hotel to grab his bag, and then I’m headed there. Can you tell Morgan?”

“Yeah, I’ll tell him,” JJ murmurs, and she hurries past, runs through the building and out to the car. She’s in and out of the hotel in a matter of minutes, flashing her badge at anyone who looks at her sideways, and back on the street, pulling up directions to the hospital on her phone.

She doesn’t turn on her lights, because it’s not an emergency, but she makes it in record time anyway, since so much of the city is locked down.

She gets past the Secret Service bypass with only a few curse words, runs into the hospital, straight to the ER, and is looking around frantically for someone who can direct her to Aaron, when she hears him call her name—it’s like music to her fucking ears, when there was a time she thought she’d never hear it again. She turns, sees him in his hospital gown, looking so beat up and tired, and she wants to jump into his arms, but she’s not sure the extent of his injuries; instead, she walks to him, cautiously looking him over. He’s clearly not as worried, pulls her close as soon as she’s within reach and kisses her so thoroughly she almost goes weak in the knees.

“Oh, baby I thought I lost you,” she breathes against his lips, running her hands over his face, carefully avoiding the cuts and scrapes, and he closes his eyes, presses their foreheads together. “Are you alright?”

“Not too bad,” he rasps, pulling back to look at her face. His eyes roam over her features. “Something called acute acoustic trauma?” She frowns, moves her hands to hover over both of his ears.

“Damage to your eardrum, temporary hearing loss.” She speaks a little louder, now that she knows. “Which side?” He takes her left hand in his, pulling it down, presses her right hand gently against his ear. “It will heal, eventually. Loud noises might bother it for a while. Flying. We’ll figure it out.” She stretches up on her toes for another kiss, sighs into it. He’s solid, warm, alive. She’ll never take it for granted again. “Here, I brought your clothes. We can talk while you get changed—you are being discharged, right? I’m not busting you out of here against your doctor’s wishes.”

“Morgan’s talking to him now, but he said I could leave. I called in the team to meet us here.” He guides her to his triage room, and she pulls the curtain closed, lays an outfit out on the bed. She helps him untie his gown, looks up at his poor ear, still bleeding, and then groans softly. She’s an idiot. He turns to her, confused. “What is it?”

“It’s so stupid, in the grand scheme of things but…” She pokes him gently in the neck. “I would cover you in hickies the night before you have to go to the ER after a horrible trauma. I’m so sorry.” He chuckles tiredly.

“It’s okay. You obviously couldn’t have known; plus, I think it got me a lot of respect from one of the male nurses.” She laughs, helps him button his shirt. “Morgan saw, though, so I’d expect some good-natured ribbing when this is all over.”

“I’ll welcome it, if it means we all make it home in one piece.” He finishes getting dressed, and she sighs. “I haven’t heard anything more about Joyner—Kate. Hopefully he has an update.” His eyes are so sad when she mentions her that it breaks her heart. She can’t imagine what he went through, trying to get her help, how she’d feel if she were in the same situation.

“She was in really bad shape,” he admits. “Spinal injury, she lost a lot of blood. I’m not sure she’ll make it.” She rests her hands on his arms, pulls them around her for a sweet, comforting embrace.

“She is a very strong woman, Aaron. If anyone has a fighting chance, it’s her.” He rests his cheek against the top of her head, nods.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He squeezes her tighter, breathes in the scent of her shampoo. “I was so busy trying to help her that I didn’t have a chance to worry about you—is it selfish that I’m glad I didn’t?”

“Not selfish. Waiting to hear was the worst part.” She touches his face again, softly. “I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t make it…”

“I made it,” he reassures, leaning down for a gentle press of lips. “Now we just need to figure out why.” The team gathers at the hospital, vests on, trying to figure out next steps; when they learn of the Secret Service bypass on the hospital, all the little details seem to click into place, but knowing that they can’t evacuate the target throws a wrench in things.

“If we can’t evacuate, we need to find a way to get that ambulance out of here,” Morgan says, and she can see the wheels turning in his head. She looks to Aaron.

“I know you won’t listen, but you should stay up here. You got blown up like three hours ago, you’re still bleeding,” she says, reaching over the desk to grab him more tissues, “and if someone fires a shot near you, you’re going to be in intolerable pain.”

“I can’t, you know I can’t,” he says, softly, looking deeply into her eyes as if willing her to understand. She nods, exhales long.

“Yeah I know. I just had to go on record stating all the reasons you shouldn’t, so I can say I told you so later.” She squeezes his arm, turns back to Morgan. “Okay, what’s your plan?”

“You guys go after the EMT and try to stop him; I’m gonna drive that thing somewhere safe in case you can’t. Garcia can help me find a place nearby.”

“I’ll come cover you until you’re in the ambulance,” she says, and when he looks like he wants to argue, she just holds his gaze. “Trust me, Derek.” He sighs.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s go.”

They make it down to the parking garage without seeing anything out of the ordinary, but when Morgan is trying to explain the situation to Garcia, Sophie hears gunshots, whips around to the set of doors they’re coming from.

“You good?” she asks over her shoulder, and he nods, once.

“I’m good, go. I’ve got Garcia.” Sophie takes the four steps over to him, grabs him by the front of his vest.

“Get back to us in one piece, Derek. If you don’t, I can’t promise I won’t help her hold a séance so she can yell at you for dying.” He huffs a laugh, as exhausted, stressed as he is, covers her hand with his.

“I’ll be fine. Now go.” She goes, heads back through the double doors, staying close to the wall and keeping her ears open for more gunshots, or movement. She can hear an elevator that’s struggling to close, and when she approaches, she sees the dead Secret Service agents, figures that explains the gunshots.

“We’ve got bodies in the elevator, basement level,” she whispers into her comms. “Secret Service. Morgan’s got the ambulance, I’m in pursuit of the suspect.” There are bloody footprints leading away from the scene, so she doubles back to the garage just in time to see Morgan driving away in the ambulance, the EMT firing shots at him.

“FBI! Drop your weapon!” The man turns, shoots twice and runs, and she fires a shot of her own, but he’s too quick and it only grazes him, doesn’t slow him down.

The cell service will be back up any minute, she knows it, has to think fast. She chases him across the parking lot, exchanging a couple of shots and finally ducking behind a parked car for cover. She leans up for a better vantage point, sees his thumb hovering over the button, can’t find another option—she shoots him, point blank in the chest. He goes down.

She runs toward him just as the rest of the team makes their way out of the basement, but she crouches down, doesn’t look up, can only focus on the cell phone that fell out of his hand.

Call connected.

She sighs, checks his pulse even though it’s clear the man is dead, and finally turns to the others, shakes her head.

“He made the call. I couldn’t stop him.” She takes the phone, the gun, looks up and hopes to hell they don’t think she’s a failure for it.

“You were here and we weren’t. You did the best you could.” That’s Emily, always the first to give reassurance, but it doesn’t make her feel any better. Still, she smiles, grateful for the attempt. “Garcia, any word from Morgan?”

It takes almost a full, long, painful minute for her to reply: “He’s good. He made it. No casualties.” The team breathes a collective sigh of relief. They are back at the hotel after hours of coordinating with Homeland, NYPD, and Aaron is dead on his feet, understandably, and upset about Kate’s passing, also understandably. Sophie suggests a shower, but he says all he wants is to lay down with her, so that’s what they do.

They take off their guns, their phones, and Sophie guides him to the bed, pulls off his shoes, kneels down to untie her boots. He lays back with a sigh, closes his eyes, swallows hard, and she scoots up the bed, wraps her arms around him, curls against his side.

“A means to an end,” he says after several quiet minutes of her simply carding fingers through his hair. His voice is thick, emotional. “She was my friend, but to them she was just a means to an end. A casualty of war.” She feels herself get choked up as well, closes her eyes to hold back tears.

“I know. It’s fucked up. War is always fucked up.”

“So fucked up,” he murmurs, and she curls closer to him, presses her lips to the top of his head, and gently rubs the base of his ear, since he said that made it feel a little better.

“It’s okay if you want to cry. Or sleep. Or just… lay here. I’m not going anywhere.” He pulls her legs over top of him and turns toward her slightly, looks up at her so soft, sweet, sad that it physically hurts her to look at him. Hot tears slip down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she says, cradling his head.

“Oh, don’t cry,” he whispers, pressing his palm to her face, but his eyes are wet, too. “It’s alright. She wasn’t in pain.” She squeezes her eyes shut, tries to force the tears away.

“I’m so glad you were there for her, but I’m sure it was hard. If you want to talk about it, I want to listen.” He swallows again, like he’s not sure he even has the words.

“It was awful. She was bleeding so badly I could barely turn her. I was able to cut off the flow but I think it was too late. She was mostly incoherent, and she couldn’t move her legs, and… She told me to go. She knew help wasn’t coming.”

“I can’t imagine how she must have felt, knowing that,” she says softly.

“She was strangely calm. I think she knew she wouldn’t make it, but I didn’t stop trying. I didn’t leave her.”

“Of course you didn’t.” She bites her lip, holds back tears. “Of course you didn’t, honey. That’s who you are.”

“When the EMT came, I was so relieved. I thought it was over, that she’d be alright.” He runs a hand over his face, exhausted and emotionally spent. “The worst part is knowing how badly I messed it all up.” She sits up a little, abruptly, and he does too, concerned for her. She frowns; she just wanted to be able to look at him.

“What do you mean, you messed up?” He sighs, and it’s self deprecating.

“Sam, the unsub. I was talking to him for a while, he… he tried to help me with Kate. I had no idea it was him.”

“You had just been blown into next week, your friend was dying in front of you. You expected to be profiling the guy trying to help you?” She can tell that he did expect more of himself, and he’ll probably carry that weight for a while, knowing him. He’ll be second guessing everything. “There were other things on your mind, Aaron, and probably ringing in your ears. You were in pain. You need to cut yourself some slack.”

“How about the ambulance? The EMT?” he asks, shaking his head. “I literally drove a terrorist and an ambulance rigged with explosives right into that hospital.”

“Again, you need to cut yourself some slack. Kate was hurt and someone who looked and acted like a first responder came to help you. She needed medical attention, to get to a hospital, and you got her to one. What reason did you have to question any of that?” He looks down at his hands, and she carefully takes his face in hers. “Honey, listen to me. Absolutely nothing that happened tonight was your fault. Nothing.”

“It feels like it’s all my fault,” he says, rough, and she starts crying again: for Kate, for Aaron, for everyone.

“Believe me, this was not your fault. You did so well. And I’m so proud of you. And I love you.” She seeks out his mouth and just rests hers against it, breathes. They both cry, but he is silent where she is all heaving sobs, and they hold each other for what seems like an hour.

Eventually, her sobs taper off, and she reaches over for the box of tissues, cleans her face, then his. “Do you want to get undressed and try to get some sleep? We could catch four hours, maybe.”

“I’m a little afraid of what I’ll see when I close my eyes,” he admits, and she resolutely does not cry again.

“Let’s just lay like this, then.” She pulls down a pillow, puts it under her head, and before she can grab his he gets comfortable with his head resting on her stomach, his hand linked with hers. She takes a deep breath, scratches lightly at his head, rubs his ear, and they lay quietly, eyes open, waiting for morning. Sophie hangs back in the hotel lobby while Aaron and Morgan talk things out—kind of. They’re both really just looking at each other, letting their eyebrows do most of the talking. Men. She grabs a cup of tea, puts her arm around Garcia who is making a cup of coffee.

“Hey. How’re you holding up?” Garcia exhales softly, turns to her with a smile.

“Pretty well I think, considering everything that happened. You?”

“Not bad. Tired. Ready to be home.”

“You ain’t kidding.” She looks over at where Aaron and Morgan are talking, eyes lingering softly on Derek—really lingering. Sophie smiles, knows that look.

“You guys have lots of life-affirming sex?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. Garcia’s eyes meet hers, surprised, but then she nods, grins shyly.

“Yeah. I don’t want anything like that to happen ever again,” she says, waving her hands, her stir stick, “but that part was pretty spectacular.” She smiles wider, clearly thinking about the more pleasing events of last night, and then looks back to Sophie. “You two?” She shakes her head softly.

“No, we weren’t in the right headspace. We just cuddled, but it was what we both needed.”

“That’s good, that you could be there for each other. I’m happy he has you,” she says, patting her arm, and they chat a little more before Sophie gets tired of waiting and walks up to Aaron and Morgan.

“Alright, I let you two have your broment. Are you taking this job or not? We’ve got a four hour car ride ahead of us.”

“You can’t just ask him like that,” Aaron warns, and she grins.

“You can’t, I can. Derek?” He rubs a hand over his head, sighs.

“No. It’s not something I want. I’m not done with the BAU yet.” Sophie drops her bag and pulls him in for a hug, squeezing tight.

“Not only am I happy you’re staying, this makes you look like an incredible badass, you know that, right?” she says as she pulls away. “You turn down this field office for the BAU and you’re going to be talked about at the bureau for a long time.”

“Been making the unit look good since my first day,” he says, playful, but then he glances back at the rest of the team with a soft look. “We’ve got a lot of work to do, and we do it best together.”

“You are right about that.” She shoulders her bag again, pulls the set of keys out of her pocket and shows them to Aaron. “You ready to head out?”

“Yep. Take care of the rest of them for us,” he tells Morgan, who nods, and they go their separate ways. “I’m okay to drive,” he tells her as he loads their bags, but she walks around to the driver’s side anyway.

“I want you to rest, since I know you’re not going to when we get home. I’ll drive.”

The ride is peaceful, surprisingly. It almost feels weird to be so calm after a night of such panic. They play music, low, Aaron’s choice, and they talk about what they’re going to eat when they get home, because they’re both all about food. He leans toward her, rests his hand comfortably on her thigh as they cruise down the turnpike, and she smiles.

She’s decided to be happy, today, for what they have, tries not to dwell on what they’ve lost, or could have lost.

A semi truck blows by them about halfway home, laying on its horn, and it bothers Aaron’s ear, which kind of breaks her heart. The steroid the ER doctor prescribed seemed to help with the pain a little, but loud noises are going to suck for a while, it seems.

“Make a doctor’s appointment as soon as we get home,” she murmurs when it passes, brushing her fingers soothingly through his hair. “I was reading about some treatments that can help, if it doesn’t heal on its own. I’ll go with you if you want, mention them.” He looks up at her, tired but so tender; it’s a look she sees a lot, one she loves.

“I’m so grateful that I found you. I don’t know what I would do without you.” She swallows, keeps her eye on the road though all she wants is to look at his beautiful face, cuts and all.

“I’m grateful I found you too, baby. We’ll get through this, I promise.” She exhales, reminds herself that crying is not on the agenda. “Just remember that I love you, and I’m here for you.”

“That’s not something I’ll ever forget,” he says softly, and they finish the drive home.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x original female character

[harpersplay]

4x10 and 4x11 Thoughts

Doing the bare minimum after being a parent for 13 years is not impressive. And I can't believe they are trying to equate doing that with Beth's years as an involved & active SAHM. (Gasp! Dare I defend Beth? Will I get my hater mantle taken away? I've said over & over that Beth's character has suffered the most from the shit writing. I truly have no idea how Beth stans think the show is good when every season Beth—as a character—gets worse & worse. And often because she is written at the expense of male characters.) And he's not a good dad. He's still fun dad (and also gross Dad. Who the fuck puts syrup on pancakes until right before you eat them?!?!?!). Giving his young children containers of Oreos (and encouraging them to lie to their mother) and risking their stability by again making shitty financial/business choices. Oh, and good dad (and good mom) are preparing to flee from prosecution and—I guess—just live on the run forever. Super great childhoods they're planning for their kids.

I was not at all clamoring for a Dean & Rio scene. Like ever. Luckily, it wasn't that bad. There was no swordfighting over Beth. And Dean got to see how Beth interacts with Rio (she talks to him with that haughty annoyed tone) which helps him to finally realize (JUST LIKE BETH TOLD HIM IN 1x6!) that Beth does this because she wants to not because the evil moose forces her.

Dorothy built her own store and career and none of the girls give a millisecond of thought to stealing the press. And that's after they've spent months using her store for illegal activities. Oh, and the obvious culprit when (if? because who knows with this show) Dorothy calls the police is going to be the former employee with multiple brushes with the law. But, great plan.

And, ugh, of course the girls are shocked that Diane & friends expect to be paid. They've only been doing this for years. Why would they learn anything? BTW, don't think I missed Beth mocking Krystal's voice. Where all the anti-misogynists at?

Breckin Meyer plays a really good creep. And someone actually did some research; because creeps make connections by being super tactile. I hate this MRA/MLM story. Why does it exist? Why is Vance at Dean's meeting with the lawyer? Is there some sort of budding cult leader/acolyte confidentiality?

So Stan is now getting directly supplied by the purse connect. Presumably the "Woman in Room 216." But why would she work with them? Weeks after she gets involved with Gene, he gets busted and spilled everything. So why would anyone in the criminal world work with Stan who was seen out & about as Gene's right hand? Why does Stan have access to the strip club? What about the "he" that owns the club that Gene mentioned? We know the city seized it and is going to auction it, but they don't just let people come in & out in the meantime; especially when it was a place used for illegal activity. Why does the show think this is unimportant to address but Dean montages are needed?

Ruby is all the way fucked up in this whole stupid Beth vs Stan nonsense (Reason #763 why she needs Black friends and it's super sus that she doesn't have any). She wasn't being neutral AT ALL and she was more on Beth's side for no reason than fake drama. Stan is probably the character we've seen undergo the most on a spiritual/moral/existential level. Ruby started at a similar place from him, but she at least went in knowing she was doing whatever she had to for Sara. Stan didn't find things out until the Hills were already in it. He's had multiple conversations with Ruby about what all this has done to him. He's calibrated his worldview of right & wrong. And for Ruby to tell him to "take the high road" was a slap in the face. Beth told Ruby she lied to Stan and Ruby was still on her side. Also, Stan was totally justified in what he said to Beth but the show is going to align him with Dean to neutralise the truth of his words. (I mean, the fact that he's a Black man has already been enough for people to say he's being "mean" to Beth.) And Beth yelling at Ruby to not defend Stan? No. Nope. That white woman needs to mind her own house.

The Kevin storyline is stupid & gross. First they used him to portray Annie's rock bottom. I don't know, having sex with your married ex while his wife is pregnant is more rock bottom to me. As is trying to fuck with your therapist's fiancée for funsies. And then he knows stuff about lacrosse, so suddenly he has some worth. Not because he's a human being. It's all incredibly offensive. But to have Annie, who has seen firsthand the problem with food waste and has been shown to have zero issues with Ben's transition (Not that she should have any. Just that it is a very, very common narrative for parents who will say they love their children to still express concern about how difficult life will be for them. And then they have some learning moment and credits.), be this judgmental character? It's plot > character again. And Annie has to start having feelings for him. Because, of course.

Ugh the casino. Just like the strip club fake bachelorette party, the writers just had an idea for a "fun" scene and did it regardless of how stupid. See the girls are always unlucky except in this moment when they need to be. Isn't that the most clever thing ever? Casinos monitor everything (Ruby actually points this out, which makes it worse) and the girls were acting completely suspicious. They would have for sure drawn attention. And then we have the added stupidity of the timeline being fucked with again to make a "clever" line work. Moments/twists/scene > plot > character. Always. The background actors in the scene were really earning their checks, tho.

Beth & Nick planting a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.

#nbc good girls #good girls nbc #good girls season 4

[pretend-writer]

Until The End Of Time (Diego Hargreeves x reader)

Summary: After being separated from Five’s time traveling from 2019, Y/N reunites with Diego for the first time in two years. Noticing that Diego brought a friend with him, she started to become jealous. 

Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x reader

Title Reference: Until The End of Time x Justin Timberlake 

Word Count: 1.8k words

Warning: swearing

✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤  ·  ✤

Diego’s pov;

Maybe it was because I haven't seen Y/N in a long time, she seemed different. Sure her hair got longer, her smile was pretty as it had always been and her 60s styled outfit looked really good on her. But it was more than the change of her appearance.

It was as if she didn't notice me at all.

Ever since the family split up after Five time traveled from the apocalypse in 2019, I did everything I could to find Y/N. All the stores and the alleyways I've been at, she was never there. Eventually, some lunatic called the cops on me for disturbance and they decided to stick me here in the institution.

I couldn't lie about the fact that my emotions got to me to make stupid decisions. I've gotten angry at a man I tried to ask questions regarding Y/N. His rude response got the best of me and I punched him, called him fouls names.

If he hadn't said and I quote "No, I don't care about your bitch", he wouldn't have gone home with a broken nose and a black eye. It wouldn't have landed me at this institution either.

Couple months later, Five found me at the institution, told me he hasn't found anyone else in the family yet. The first thought I had in mind was Y/N and the possibility of her still being alone in the streets of Dallas.

Being a great brother that Five was, he left me in there. After I knew that the rest of the family had maybe landed here in Dallas as well, I had to try more to find Y/N. I needed to see her again.

With the help of my new friend Lila, we barely escaped from the institution. We've almost got busted by the security guards and the police officers that were looking for us but we managed to get their eyes off of us for a bit.

Who would've thought after busting my ass to find Y/N, she'd welcome me back with cold shoulder.

I'd thought the reunion with Y/N would be romantic in a sense, or at least heartwarming. She avoided eye contact with me, barely touching me as we hugged each other. I couldn't question her though, maybe later when we were alone.

Y/N’s pov;

Maybe I was overthinking, realistically I had no right to be angry or upset but I was. Diego returned to our family with a girl by his side. Not only was she a girl, she was unique and pretty badass. Not to mention they were oddly close to each other. This Lila girl and Diego looked like a good pair.

Yeah, I was jealous.

How can I not be? I've been away from my family for nearly two years after landing in 1961. Of course Diego found someone new, an upgrade if you will. After upgrading himself with nice hair and a beard.

It was still upsetting that after all the years of serving as a detective, going through hoops looking for him and Diego appears out of nowhere. I guess maybe I was the dumbass that waited years for him.

'Let's meet back together tonight to talk about dad and his whereabouts.' Five said as he stood up. 'If any of you are late I swea-'

'Yeah, yeah. You won't do shit to us.' Klaus smiled, tapping on his shoulder.

Everyone laughed in sync, Five rolling his eyes knowing damn well that we will at least 10 minutes late. 'The things I do for you guys.'

Allison giggled, pulled on my hand as she pulled me to the corner of the room. It had been years since I've seen my sister, her and Diego were the only two in the family that I haven't seen since the apocalypse.

'I can't believe you have a husband... again!' I poked her on the shoulder, 'Allison Chestnut does have a nice ring to it.'

'It does sound good, doesn't it?' Allison smiled, 'And Ray is great, amazing actually. What about you? Found anyone during the time you were here?'

"Pathetic" was the first thing I thought in my head when I realized the past two years, I didn't even bat an eye for anyone. There were other detectives and officers that were attractive of course but I didn't care to build a relationship past friendship with any of them. My mind was too focused on Diego and only him.

'A few dudes from work, yeah.'

Allison raised her eyebrows, immediately started to laugh as she detected my lie. 'You're still the worst liar I've ever met. Is this abou-'

'You know it is. Sh! Don't say it too loud.'

'So what? You waited for him and now you're not gonna talk to him?'

Having Allison as my best friend was a blessing and a curse, she read me like a book even when we haven't seen each other for years. Granted mind reading was my specialty, I always felt like Allison had this secret power and never told anyone.

'Well, in case you became blind in these past three years you've been stuck here, he has a girl with him.'

'I don't know, it doesn't seem like anything to me.'

'Okay, so you are blind.'

'Y/N, you're over thinking. The shit you always pull, I'm not even surprised.'

'I am not overthinking!'

She crossed her arms, fed up with this habit of assuming everything. She'd thought after this two years I'd be different, 'Then go read his mind then.'

'I don't need my power to figure this one out.' I chuckled under my breath, 'Did you see the way she was touching his thighs when Vanya was talking about her amnesia? Oh my g-'

Allison puckered her lips, nervously smiling but she wasn't smiling at me. 'Oh hey Diego! Long time no see brother!'

I glared at Allison before I turned around and flashed a fake smile towards Diego, I was definitely going to run my mouth about this after this encounter was over.

'Hey Allison. Congrats on your marriage.' Diego smiled sweetly, the same smile I loved for as long as I can remember.

'Thanks, thanks. Excuse me while I go talk to Luther.' Great, not only did she not warn me about Diego coming by but she left me alone with him as well.

It wasn't just me that felt the awkward tension between us because Diego was acting very strange too. 'I see you grew your beard.'

'Yeah, figured I'd do something different.' He breathed, looking at me up and down. 'You look really great Y/N.'

'Why are you telling me this?' I didn't mean to blurt it out, my stupid thoughts just came out of my mouth without me even thinking.

Diego just scratched his head, not knowing what to say after that. 'Because you do, why else would I say it?'

'Well, you need to stop.' I bit my lips as I walked out of the small apartment, making my way down the alley.

'Why are you acting like this?' He followed me. Man, I wish he didn't. Diego just made things even harder for me. 'I thought you'd be happy to see me.'

'I thought so too but-' I stopped myself, knowing that whatever came out of my mouth would definitely change everything. I couldn't do this to myself or to Diego.

'But what Y/N?'

'Nothing. I'll see you at the next meeting.'

'Wait-wait!' Diego caught my hand before I walked off, 'I've searched through this whole city looking for you. The least you can do is owe me an explanation.'

Immediately, I pulled my hand away. If I stayed here more with him I knew that I'd either get pissed off or I'd start crying. Either way, I didn't want Diego to witness that I care about all of this.

'I think the person who owes an explanation is you, Diego.'

Diego’s pov;

My brows furrowed, confused about what Y/N was going on about. What did I need to explain to her that made her to hate me so much?

Was she mad that I've beaten someone up without thinking of my consequences? Y/N used lecture me about controlling my emotions but there was no way she'd know about the reason why I got sent to an institution. Unless Five told her, of course.

But would she be this angry was the question. The way she reacted when I came to talk to her was as if I did something to upset her personally.

Then it suddenly hit me; the possible reason why Y/N was pissed off at me. The typical assumption and overthinking shit she pulled even back when we were in our old timeline.

I couldn't help but laugh, the way Y/N was eyeing me down as if she wanted to slit my throat. It was sort of kind of cute in a way, she really loved me that much to get this jealous over Lila.

'What the hell are you laughing about?'

'You're fucking adorable.' I continued to laugh, holding onto my stomach. 'You know there's nothing going on between me and Lila, right?'

Y/N's shoulders dropped as the tension in her muscles relaxed. She even had a slight, very slight smile on her face. I knew I hit bullseye the way she bit her lips and how her eyes wandered.

'Yeah, that's what I thought.'

'Shut up!' She playfully hit me on my arm, not going to lie it did hurt a little. 'Diego, I-you had me all confused... uhm wow I feel stupid.'

I pulled Y/N in for a hug, kissing her forehead and rubbing her back. 'For a mind reader, you sure assume the stupidest stuff.'

She hugged me back tightly and mumbled under her breath. 'I know, I know. When it comes to you, I go crazy.'

'It's okay, baby. We all have our moments.'

Y/N looked up at me, cupping my cheek and gently ran her finger like she used to do all the time. 'I'm so sorry, Diego. I spent these past two years looking everywhere for you and when I saw-'

'Sh, sh.' I licked my lips and stared at her eyes, it was hard to believe that she waited for me for two years. 'None of that matters anymore. We're both here now.'

A smiled formed on her face as she pulled me in for a kiss. This was a better reunion than I imagined, despite the complication we had a few minutes back. With all of this, I appreciated Y/N more and I was definitely glad that we've found each other again.

'I love you.' Words escaped my mouth as we both pulled away. 'Don't forget that.'

She kissed me again, running her fingers through my hair. 'I love you too, Diego.'

'Mhmm.' I said as I smirked, 'You know it's kind of hot when you're all angry and jealous for me.'

Y/N rolled her eyes, 'Too soon buddy. And that's not funny.'

#tua oneshot #the umbrella academy oneshot #diego hargreeves oneshot #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves fic

[crystalessenceswrites]

Shadows- Chapter One

*not my gif*

Shadows

A modern monster AU Pairings: Din Djarin x fem!reader Rating: T (at the moment- subject to change) Warnings: dark themes, canon typical violence, reference to human trafficking, description of blood (brief), mentions of drugs and alcohol, swearing Summary: Crypto- concealed; secret. You have always lived your life in the shadows; after all, you’re one of the creatures who go bump in the night. He has sworn his life to a creed that aims to protect the world from monsters like you.

[Masterlist] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] Cross-posted to AO3

A/N: I told ya’ll I have no self control, so here’s ya go, have some enemies to lovers AU with some kinda mixed up timeline (there's some characters that don’t exist in the Mandalorian timeline).

Chapter One

Blood for coin.

One of the oldest transactions known to mankind.

And crypto-kind.

It paid your bills. And your family’s bills. So, you tried to not let it get to you, to not let some of the things you did get under your skin. There’s too much riding on what you do to back out; no matter how much you would rather be curled up under a blanket, couch scattered with snacks, bingeing some new mindless tv show, than here.

The bar is too packed for a Wednesday night. Had you been blessed with a more carefree personality you might have enjoyed the atmosphere, with a bottle or two clouding your system. Completely sober to the world the activities masked behind pounding music and strobe lights did not hold any appeal. Copper and iron tinted the air, pheromones were running rampant and other mind-numbing treats were being less than subtly exchanged.

“What’s your poison tonight, sweet-gills?”

You scoff, regarding the bartender through half-lidded eyes as you draw your dagger from a boot and slide it across the counter. “Zachriel.”

The man raises a bushy eyebrow in response.

“He’ll know who I am when you give him that.”

He shrugs and takes the pearl-handled dagger. You were not the only one who came looking for his boss.

Before he left the bartender flashed you a smile of pointed teeth and poured you a glass of something strong. Halfheartedly you swirl the glass in one hand as you watch the mass of bodies blur together on the dance floor. Neutral ground clubs were truly a different world, one where the shadows of the world melted back into their old ways-the ways labeled sinful or unnatural by humans. Not that some of the old ways weren’t wrong. Many of the too grotesque and unsightly ways took place out of sight of other patrons- Zachriel made sure of that. As long as the living left alive and the dead remained dead then it was fair game. The shadows took advantage of that and chose to live their pleasures out here.

One such woman approached as your gaze wanders aimlessly, hips swaying and eyes glazed over she makes it no secret what she wants. You do not speak a word of acknowledgment as the woman closes the gap between your bodies. A hand slides over your hip, tugging less than subtly at the waistband of your jeans. She smells of juniper berries and cigarette smoke.

“Ma’am.”

The shark-toothed bartender returns, glaring slightly at the woman still hovering at your side.

“You’re welcome to head up now.”

“Thanks.” You leave the untouched drink and disappointed looking woman behind to fight through the crowd towards the stairs tucked away at the back of the establishment. You tap the “employees only” sign above the stairwell as you pass.

You are familiar with the maze upstairs. After all this time you could locate Zachriel’s suite blindfolded. Not bothering to knock, you’re not surprised to find it has been redecorated, again, since he had last called you here. Empty glasses litter the end tables by his settee, their owners presumably the young man and woman snuggled up to Zachriel’s sides. The smell of human permeates the space, seeming to originate with the glassy eyed man, much to your displeasure.

“Ah (Y/N), welcome darling,” Zachriel’s baritone voice cuts through the smoky air. “Have a seat and we can get right down to it.”

Wordlessly you slide into the armchair across from the bar’s owner. Neither or his guests pay you any attention, simply continuing to clutch onto their host, lavishing his exposed neck and shoulders with sloppy kisses. Both were presumably beyond drunk and only awake because of the stimulate Zachriel had burning in the loft.

“You’re looking lovely as ever, darling, but judging by that twinkle in your eye you aren’t just here for my company.”

The way Zachriel could read you no longer comes as a surprise, but that does not mean you have to like it. “Seven months apart and it seems you can still read me like an open book.”

“Oh, don’t sound so sour about that, darling. It makes our business easier, doesn’t it?”

Business it was, and Zachriel’s fares had been on the rise. You were either going to have to find a new informant or start getting the friends and family discount here.

“Then let’s get to it, I don’t have all night,” you kick your combat boots up onto his polished coffee table, both of Zachriel’s playthings jump, turning to you with wide eyes.

“Ha, not quite as dainty as your scaled sisters, you must hate stereotypes, darling,” Zachriel chuckles as he pours himself another drink. “What would you like to know tonight? It must be something big if you’re coming to me all the way out here on.”

“I need a location and names for Samson’s trafficking ring.”

The decanter comes down with such force you’re surprised it does not shatter. The playthings jump again, both putting a miniscule amount of space between them and the demon in human skin.

“(Y/N), have you been partaking in the festivities downstairs, because normally you’d know better than to ask me such a stupid question as that.”

“You know for a fact that I don’t. I am asking you in all seriousness where Samson is running these days,” you cross your arms, staring down your nose at Zachriel as he screws up his face.

“Get out!” He shoves his guests away and they quickly obey. The door slams shut behind them as Zachriel’s eyes begin to shift between his green façade and their natural coal-colored irises.

Feet planted on the floor, you lean forward, elbows on your knees, “no need to get so worked up. It is an easy question. You know the answer, or you don’t.”

Zachriel sneers, “I don’t.”

“Try again.”

“I’m still suffering losses from your last bust! I shouldn’t even let you step foot in here anymore!”

“You mean the bust that saved 25 teenage girls? I think that’s worth more than your profit margins.”

“Says you!” He snarls back, jaw clenched and face going red.

“Oh calm down and just think of the cut I’ll give you from Samson’s bounty once we take him down.”

A glass sails by your head in warning. If he wanted to hit you he would have.

“Get out!”

As the words leave the demons lip the door slams in, the doorframe splintering. You’re on your feet and reaching for your blade before you can even lay eyes on who’s kicked the door in. Fingers grasping the hilt of your sword dispels the enchantment, revealing the weapon strapped to your back. As you evaluate the man in the doorway, you’re not sure how useful it will be- he’s armed with a pistol, holding it in a stance the screams soldier.

Sword drawn, you stare down the man and he does the same, his dark eyes flickering up and down your form. He’s got a few years on you, you’d guess, but he’s well built, and sporting a bullet proof tac-vest under his black long sleeve judging by the shape it gives his torso. He is otherwise well prepared for whatever he came to Zachriel for; there’s an extra gun and ammo strapped to one leg, a blade and a stake strapped to the other. You briefly wonder how he got this far into the bar so armed without getting caught.

Indignant, Zachriel glares down the dark-haired intruder, “who the fuck do you think-”

You kick his settee over as the intruder fires. Zachriel tumbles to the floor as you jump to put yourself between the two men. As much as you and Zachriel had your differences, you were not about to let your informant get murdered in front of you.

“Go.” You don’t turn to look at him but hope the demon decides to cooperate for once.

Best guess, the man was after Zachriel, the way his gaze lingers on the demon as he scrambles to his feet behind you. Did not mean he wouldn’t shoot you to get to Zachriel though.

“I’d ask you not to shoot but I take it you’re not the type to listen to reason.”

The man scoffs, the thin mustache on his lip quirking with the sound. “It’s not like you monsters have reason to begin with.”

A hunter.

You spit a curse under your breath. Everyone in the building was in danger with him around.

“Stand down and I’ll make it quick and painless for you.” His voice is rough and dark even without the threat.

“Oh hell no.”

Your lunge manages to catch him by surprise, striking at his right shoulder. He recovers quick, managing to dodge before your blade can sink too deep. Grunting he aims a shot for your torso but you’re quick too, rolling out if the way and ducking behind the overturned settee. Reaching for your boot you launch your dagger over your cover. The thunk of metal on wood is enough to know you missed your blind shot.

“Fuck!”

With an almost comical puff of smoke Zachriel disappears, leaving only a dusting of soot on the floor where he had stood. Lucky demons and their dark magics, always had a quick escape. Now you just needed a way out.

A bullet flies over the lip of the couch as the hunter’s heavy footfalls approach. Rolling onto your back, you shove your boots against the overturned seat, pushing it right into the path of the hunter. He swears again, clattering to the floor. Jumping up you throw the end tables towards him, glass shattering around you both as the tumblers fly across the room. You dart for the door and thank whoever’s out there for industrial design and exposed pipes. Shoving your sword into the pipe above the doorframe with all your strength manages your desired effect. Water starts to pour from the hole into the already trashed room. Stepping out the busted door you mutter a few old words under your breath and with a flick of your wrist the liquid covers the doorway and freezes solid. A door of ice to keep in the hunter, just in time. He rushes towards you, fist slamming against the ice.

A sigh of relief escapes you as the magic holds. He glares at you through the ice, dark eyes burning with a hate you have not seen in a long while. There’s blood smeared across his face and neck, creating a terrifying image as he snarls at you. His shoulder is bleeding pretty heavily where you nicked him, but it doesn’t look too deep; he would live, and his shoulder would heal fine. Good.

His shirt is torn down to his forearm revealing a myriad of tattoos painted across skin, one in the shape of a horned skull just below his shoulder. Solid and black. So painfully obvious.

Fuck.

“I have no desire to kill you. So just stay here for a bit while I get the hell out of dodge and then we’ll be good to go.”

You wave at him as you dash away, ignoring his shouts trailing behind you. Sliding your sword back into its scabbard, the blade disappears again by the time you reach the bottom of the stairs. The bartender spots you long before you reach the counter. You must look a mess now.

“Hunter. Zachriel’s suite. Gotta go.”

Lips set into a thin line the man nods, swift to wave over the security lingering around the edges of the room.

Then you’re gone, weaving through the crowd to disappear out a fire exit and into the city streets.

At least Zachriel owes you now.

.

“Boba Fett was the last Mandalorian we had in these parts; are sure this hunter was one of them?”

Rolling your eyes, you grimace at the aging man, “well I didn’t think to ask him while he was trying to kill us, Boss. But he had the tattoo, plain as day. Black mythosaur skull, right shoulder.”

“Boba Fett used to hunt around here?” Kanan’s dark-haired apprentice is filled with awe, missing the important point at hand.

“Ezra-” Kanan goes to chide him for interrupting but Boss cuts him off.

“Fett was the only Mandalorian we’d ever dealt with in these parts before he died five years ago,” Boss explains. “We’ve only seen some lone wanderers since. None of which have been much cause for concern.”

He thinks you’re overreacting.

“This one seemed pretty serious.”

“(Y/N) had a point.” At least Kanan agreed with you.

Boss sits for a moment, wrinkled hand stroking his wiry white beard. Murmurs ripple through the small crowd that they’d gathered in the office. Mandalorians were not to be taken lightly. They were better equipped and considerably more organized than any usual human hunter. Many slayers had fallen to their kind as well. Even one Mandalorian hunter running around the city could spell the death of hundreds of cryptos. The issue was they rarely operated alone. They were the communal type. One Mandalorian could mean a whole covert more of them nearby.

“We’ll release a bulletin with a description of the Mandalorian. Any other sightings or run-ins will need to be reported and compared to the initial description to confirm there is only one in the area.”  

Well at least he was doing something. Now everyone in the area would be walking around with bated breath until they knew exactly what they were dealing with.

“Dismissed.”

The group disperses, considerably more solemn than when they’d been gathered.

“What was the Mandalorian like?” Ezra looks to you with the same wide-eyed enthusiasm you imagine you once held for the job.

Kanan rolls his eyes but doesn’t stop the teenager. He understands the curiosity in the apprentice slayer.

“Angry?” You offer.

Not quite the answer the boy wanted. “Was he as tough as the rumors say?”

“Ah- it wasn’t much of a fight, Ezra. I was just trying to get out without any issues.”

The boy’s face falls. He was still so new to all this, high off the pride of being strong enough to protect others no matter how strong your foe. You could imagine he wanted to see the Mandalorians as this tough advisory that one day he would be strong enough to beat without breaking a sweat.

“Ezra, you have to remember. Mandalorians are humans so we cannot put ourselves in their paths. And we absolutely cannot harm or kill them without good reason.”

Meaning the only choice was their life or yours.

He sighs at Kanan, “I remember.”

It was the, often fatal, disadvantage you faced. You were sworn to protect humans from your own kind, to the point that you were not allowed to harm the humans out to kill you.

.

Karga looked rather smug when Din returned to see him the following morning. Not a look Din enjoyed being on receiving end of.

“Well looks like you had quite the night.”

Din rolls his eyes and slides into the seat across from the barkeep as he works through his books. Most of Din’s injuries had been minor, cuts from the broken glass around the room, sore back (though that wasn’t news these days), and a bruise blossoming across his jaw from the table the woman had thrown at his face. His shoulder had been the worst of it, and he had managed to get away without proper stiches, just butterflied it up on his own. It still ached a bit under the bandages, but Din had dealt with far worse.

“I can take your sour mood as you didn’t catch what you wanted?”

“Managed to get away,” Din grunts.

“Well, the information did say that the owner is rather crafty. I thought you would have been prepared for that.”

The frown on Din’s face deepens. “It wasn’t the owner. There was a woman with him, managed to keep me busy so he could escape.”

Karga looks surprised, “a woman? Security maybe?”

“No,” Din shakes his head, “it sounded like she was there to do business with him, but she didn’t hesitate to put herself between him and me.”

“Strange. I hadn’t heard of any women he was doing business with. I can poke around, see if I can’t find out who she is.”

“That could be helpful, thanks.”

Karga chuckles, “don’t thank me yet. Questions around here tend to lead to more questions than answers.”

#fic: Shadows #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin #reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #x reader #fanfiction #modern au #enemies to lovers #monsters and monster hunters #crystalessences writes

[cartoonfangirl1218]

5 times Leonard was surprisingly affectionate

1 They had been loitering at the New York Zoo and Sara was just uncharacteristically frigidity. She kept inching towards the bird section that was chaotic with sounds of macaw squawks, dove coos and the never ending screech of some tropical bird that Leonard hated. The noise was driving him nuts.

Stein had advised that it would be a great place for a 3rd date as that if they had an awkward pause, there was an automatic conversation starter if a lion ever got loose. Right now he wished a lion would go on a rampage right now and kill those stupid birds.

Sara really seemed to enjoy the trip so far, he didn't get the big deal it was just a bunch of animals in caging staring back at you. Or just sleeping.

Sara just smiled and dragged him to the bird aisle. Leonard couldn't help but give a small smirk. He really liked her smile, it was bright and casual. Yeah, that's it, casual. Not too big or that blinding smile that made him feel warm all over.

Just casual.

He was with someone he trusted. Not a daily feeling in Leonard Snart's life. He hadn't felt safe since he killed his father with the cold gun those many months ago. Or was it a year?

But with Sara it was different kind of safety. An emotional one. That she understood what it was like to be one of the bad guys. The feeling that no matter what you did, you couldn't be redeemed. The vulnerableness of being with all those "heroes," the disbelief that you could ever become that good.

She went through it to. She got through it and somehow it made him feel hopeful that he could too.

Sara raced past the tropical birds and scanned the name cards. Then a beep sounded. From Rip.

"Savage, 1997." was his message.

"Oh,” Sara sighed, shook her head and strode confidentially out of the zoo.

At the Waverider, the team was leaving the base after Rip informed them that getting Savage before the Team had formed might be their only chance at saving Carter and maybe getting another muscle. Sara was leaving to her room to get a katana, when Leonard stopped at her door.

"I got this before we left." He handed her a wooden canary that started to play a simple tune.

"How did you?" Sara gently took the canary, a giddy smile unconsciously spreading over her face. "I have my ways."

2 She had been shot by Nyssa and was lying on the hospital bed getting stitched up. She stated that she didn't mind the pain, it was numb to her, she had worse things. But Leonard could tell she was in pain.

Just not the physical kind.

Leonard was aware of her past with Nyssa and he could just imagine the hurt of her former lover shooting her in the shoulder.

To be fair, Nyssa didn't know who Sara was. She was just raised as Ra's daughter, to kill. Sara had been standing between her and Chronos. He also knew Sara was berating herself for getting shot, for being weak.

"Sara, you can't blame yourself." "Yes, I can!" Sara protested "I knew she didn't know me, and I kept telling her what a good person she was. It was just stupid. I'm so stupid. Ugh!”

"No you're not. You're badass but not stupid."

"This is not the time." Sara glared.

"Fine but I'm taking your night watch" - Night watch was when two team members stayed at the base to study any activity from Savage then shifted to another two later in the earlier morning. Today was her turn to watch with Stein and Leonard was suppose to take the later one with Ray.

"Leonard, I'm shot not disabled, I'll do it." Sara insisted. "No, you won't." "Yes I will." "No, Sara." He leaned close to her, whispering in her ear, "It's okay to be hurt right now. Just sit and relax" Then walked away.

Sara remained in her bed like Leonard told her and in the morning she heard the toy canary by her bedside, singing and an exhausted Leonard was asleep in the chair next to her.

3 The third time was four months after they made it official. They were boyfriend and girlfriend and life couldn't be any easier, well love wise, the world was still in danger.

They were watching the Matrix on the couch and Sara had fell asleep at some point when the Matrix exploded.

Sara because of her assassin tendencies and the probability everyone tried to kill her in her sleep was a very light sleeper.

Sara hadn't been sleeping lately for various reasons, Nyssa being one of them. 2nd timeline Nyssa shooting her had been a recurring nightmare.

The sound of the Matrix exploding had been surprisingly calming, like how she wanted to kill someone and that just watching someone in pain made her feel better.

Sara had woken up to someone brushing her hair, she was about to stand up and ask what he was doing when she felt him lay his head on hers then he put her head on a pillow and walked away.

Sara shrugged and went back to sleep, probably some his brooding walks of thoughtfulness.

A few seconds, she heard him tiptoe back and put the blanket over her.

4 "Sara what were you doing?" Rip yelled.

Leonard cringed as Sara frowned. Sara had just killed a flight attendant that was preventing her from getting into Savage's private jet.

The killing had accomplished the goal to get into the jet, but Savage still escaped, Sara was covered in blood and the news reporters were more than eager to get the headline of Victor Scolia's attempted murder, assassin in jail.

Then the team having to go to jail to bust her out hadn't made Rip's twitch any better.

"My job to get Savage," Sara replied stiffly.

"By killing the guy. You could have just hit him on the head and be done with but now all of Cincinnati has your name on America's Most Wanted." Rip continued on with tirade on how she must use simpler means such as a small blow to the head to make people unconscious, not dead.

Leonard gave a small internal sigh himself. He knew how difficult it was for her. The spent many nights were Sara discussed her bloodlust and how she wanted more action. She needed to feel the blood over her hands, smooth and sticky and know that she was alive because she ended someone else.

Besides it was more practical, sealed the witness more quickly. But since his little deal with Scarlet he had resided these urges. Then again, he hadn't been resurrected from death in a Lazerus pit so this must be a different level of bloodlust.

Sara strode to her, poised as usual. But he noticed a slight dejected slump. She knew she screwed up It was best to leave her alone.

But the part of being a supportive boyfriend wouldn't let him.

Sara was sitting in her bed, staring at the wall.

"I had to kill him. For myself. Like a monster," Sara muttered, vaguely registering his presence.

Rather than doing another one of the talks that had been played over before, he sat next to her. Sara leaned against his chest and screamed in frustration. He slowly patted her shoulder.

5 She attempted to cook for him for their first anniversary. It was a simple meal, just some mashed potatoes and an omelet but it went wrong.

Really wrong.

She had burned both the egg and potatoes and left the bottoms scorched. She had tried to make it up by posting ice cubes to lessen the heat. Leonard felt a little fearful for his stomach but gave a shaky smile in return and put on his best poker face.

"Enjoy," Sara sat down with her own glass of water and played with her eggs.

Leonard noticed the way she looked at him worriedly. "She really wants me to like it.” Leonard thought and decided faking until he made it would be the best option. Just this once and it was for her.

He took a forceful of egg and shoved it in. It tasted awful. The grease and the smell of smoke filled his nose and mouth but Leonard valiantly continued and ate it all. Breaking a chair leg in the process of trying not to let his pain show.

The next morning Leonard was excused from work due to food poisoning that he blamed at the Taiwanese McDonalds.

Though Sara just knew it had to be her cooking. But he didn't say a word, he just smiled and ate those eggs.

And that was anniversary gift itself.

And the 1 Leonard had been in the shower in the men's room. Staring himself in the mirro r in disgust. He had ran into Lewis once more during their missions in the timeline and the scars across the front of his chest glared mockingly at him.

Of all those years of obeying the dead bastard.

Nothing big occurred between them, not wanting to mess up the timeline and such but seeing him again just brought back all those memories.

He pulled on his parka and strode into the HQ. He hit the table over and over with his fist, cursing.

Sara walked in, "What is it?" She asked soothingly.

"The bastard" he replied "The damn bastard that did this to me. The bastard that treated me like his flunkies for diamonds. Couldn't hold his damn liquor. The loser doesn't know anything. He took my childhood and put me in juvie he put a fucking bomb in my sister's head just so I worked with him because he couldn't do it himself! I have spent half my life in hell!"

"Hit me," Sara commanded, holding up the palm of her hands to hit. Leonard hit immediately, the impact only pushed her a few feet backwards.

”Harder." she insisted.

Leonard continued to hit her hands until her hands turned red and he was kneeling to his knees with effort.

Sara quietly lifted his head and hugged him. His cold body melted into the warmth of her arms

#captain canary #white canary #leonard snart #captain cold #sara lance #rip hunter #dc’s legends of tomorrow #my fanfic #my fanfiction #5 times Leonard was surprisingly affectionate

[heirloommtomatoes]

you’re in a car with a beautiful boy

I’m at least 90% sure this ask was not sent with the intent of receiving a fic as a response but. Here we are. This got way longer and more convoluted than I had intended it to be and I’m jus gonna post it at this point bc i’m losing my mind re-reading it jsksk ! The title is from part 24 of Richard Siken’s poem “You Are Jeff”. Perfect poem for their first kiss, I think! Enjoy reading! :)

Warnings: Two instances of canon-typical homophobic language; canon-typical swearing.

Word Count: 2.6k~

The day Ian Gallagher shows up at his door, red-cheeked, out of breath, and wanting, no — “I need to see you” — needing him, Mickey knows he’s done for.

What comes out is: “I thought you were working today.”

Nice, dumbshit, that’s helpful, he registers the thought somewhere in the back of his mind, but mostly he just can’t stop staring at Ian. His eyes flick over his face, and he doesn’t have time to be shocked by how much he cares.

He’s embarrassed to reveal that yes, he did memorize Ian’s work schedule because he was in fact listening to the guy when he was busy running his mouth at the convenience store. Instinctively, he casts a quick glance over his shoulder. He can’t let Terry see this gay shit, Ian all worked up about some mommy issues and Mickey trying in his own way. To do what exactly, he’s still not completely sure. Comfort him, maybe? He doubts his father would clue in, his head’s too far up his homophobic ass for that, but like hell Mickey’s gonna risk it. Nothing’s gonna touch Ian. Fucking ever, if it’s up to him.

“I’ll meet you there in twenty,” Mickey says a short while later. He closes the door and goes back inside to stand around the dining table where Terry was going over some kind of raid or bust or heist while somehow managing to boss Mandy around every other word.

Mickey can’t focus on anything. He’s going to see Ian in twenty minutes. He’s bubbling with palpable excitement and fear and feelings he has no name for. What if Ian wants to talk about everything? Does he smell bad? What could Mickey say so he doesn’t leave? So Ian doesn’t see what a miserable shit he is? He hates Ian fucking Gallagher for making him care about dumb stuff like this, for making him incapable of hearing a word his Dad is saying to him and his brothers, for making him want to do some astronomically stupid thing like kiss him.

“Mickey, why you over there starin’ like some dumb fuckin’ fag?”

He doesn’t work up the courage for over another year.

Mickey slams the door to his room after running errands with Iggy all morning. It smells stale and one of the posters is curling off the wall in the mid-summer humidity. He’d changed his sheets this morning. The same red ones from the day Ian had burst in here like a maniac demanding the gun back. From then on, the two had been inseparable; no matter how hard their South Side circumstances had tried to pry them apart, every time they came back together like magnets.

Mickey knows he can’t really hide from Ian, and it scares him as much as it excites him. Ian reads him like no one ever has. The guy even had the nerve to smile that adorable smile that makes Mickey’s chest tight when he’d told him he’d rip his tongue out back in juvie. For some reason that Mickey cannot begin to fathom, Ian seems to want to spend time with him. Seems to believe in him.

He had thought himself perfectly fine to live a life half-awake, to spend his days either in prison or in the Milkovich household (one in the same, he thinks - except that juvie doesn’t have Terry), probably die by shivs or bullets or fists, and have his body buried in some unmarked grave all before his 50th birthday. Ian had wedged his place in the timeline of Mickey’s life. There was a before, and an after, and neither of them would ever be the same. Mickey pretends that its not this thought that keeps him up at night.

As soon as he realized that Iggy and Colin and Terry looked at girls and actually wanted them, that it wasn’t just some bizarre social act they all bought into, he knew he was fucked for life. His whole existence feels like some grand joke that everyone is in on but him, and when he lays down at night and stares at his ceiling and thinks about Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, Ian Gallagher, he wonders if maybe he was the butt of it all along.

Ian Gallagher, who knew him and wanted him anyway, who took the time to care about him, who sought him out to spend time with him just because he wanted to. When had their ten minute fucks turned into smoke breaks? When had their smoke breaks turned into —

Mickey’s phone dings in his pocket as he sits on the steps of the Milkovich house, a cigarette dangling idly from his mouth.

Ian

what are ur plans today

He swallows his heart back down as it leaps into his throat, almost dizzying him with excitement. Get a grip, you fuckin’ girl. He’d done all that he needed to do for the day. He’d helped Iggy with some errands in the morning and had planned on laying low, playing Halo 3, and chain-smoking his way through a pack until dinner.

He chews on his lip as he considers what to say. He texts back:

Mickey

don’t have any

He wants to say “why, what’s up?”, he wants to say “let’s go to the dugouts”, he wants to say “let’s do something”, “let’s hang out”, “i want to see you”, “i want you”. But he’s not allowed to want things. Certainly not…this. Whatever this is. He receives a response almost immediately and can’t help but crack a fond smile. Someone’s eager.

Ian

come with me to that abandoned building near the L

you know the spot

That’s how Mickey finds himself sitting atop a wooden platform, watching Ian run military drills below at 1 in the afternoon on a Sunday.

He fires his gun into the sky while resolutely pretending not to be checking out the younger boy below.

“Hey,” Ian says, breathing heavily and squinting against the sun and Mickey finds himself realizing he is made of things he cannot ever have, “You know that guy you beat the shit out of at that club?”

Of course Mickey remembers. His stomach flops at the mention of him.

“He wants me to sneak into his mansion and take all of his crap.”

“Really,” Mickey responds dryly, firing off another shot. He doesn’t want Ian to keep talking about him, “Hi-larious.”

“Can’t get it himself,” Ian continues, as if Mickey cares. And the worst part is that he thinks maybe he does — he cares about everything this alien-looking ginger has to say and he hates it and he can never, ever get enough of it, of him, of Ian, “Divorce. Says I can take whatever I want. He’s loaded. You want in?”

Mickey fires shots at the ground by Ian’s head where he’s crawling under some boards. He’s remembering seeing them at that bar in Boystown, out in the heat and in the sun and in public, cracking jokes and living a life Mickey can only watch from behind glass, from behind bars. Fuck that old guy for getting handed on a silver platter what Mickey so desperately craves but cannot have. Not just Ian — freedom. Though Mickey thinks they’re one in the same these days.

“Jesus! Use blanks, maybe?! Fuck.” Ian shouts up at him, dragging himself up off the ground.

“Bring my cousins?” Mickey asks, refusing to look at him. Every time he does he sees them together and wishes that it had been him, sun-drunk and laughing and free by his side.

“Yeah,” Ian shrugs.

“‘Aight, I’m in,” Mickey fires off another shot. He’s angry at Ian for nothing other than exercising his complete right to see other people since they weren’t really together anyway, he’s angry at that old ass man for being able to go out for drinks with him, touch him, kiss him, and most of all he’s angry at himself.

He feels broken for wanting him. He feels broken for not being able to be brave enough to admit that he wants him. He gets cut on his own self-hatred any direction he turns.

“I dunno what you see in that geriatric viagroid,” he says, forcing himself to meet Ian’s gaze, if for a brief moment.

“He buys me stuff, orders me room service,” Ian says nonchalantly, looking up at Mickey. It’s obvious how much he’s been working out. His shoulders are hard and defined, his chest chiseled through the dark green of his military shirt. Mickey feels the familiar sting of contempt rising in his throat and fires off two more shots.

He can’t buy him anything, let alone room service. The fuck kind of response is that? More than anything, it annoys Mickey because he knows it isn’t really true. He’s bullshitting him, and that gets to him more than Ted or Ned or Fred or whatever the hell is name is ever could. He knows he’s not that superficial. Sure, he doesn’t doubt those are nice bonuses, but he knows there’s more to it than that.

He knows Ian. He knows Ian and he wishes that didn’t have to mean he loves him, but it does. He doesn’t understand how anyone could know Ian and not love him. But he’s not quite ready to admit that yet, least of all to himself.

“He isn’t afraid to kiss me,” Ian adds.

Ah. There it is.

His world has become a breathing thing with Ian in it. Before it was stagnant, stale, drowning. It has become a beast with teeth that threatens to tear him from the careful scaffolding he has built around the most fragile parts of his life.

If he kisses him, then everything he fears he is will be true.

Some dumb fuckin’ fag.

So Mickey brings his cousins later that evening and doesn’t stop thinking about Ian’s comment for the rest of the day. The van ride is full of loud music and rolled down windows that let in the warm, fresh summer air, and Iggy and Colin are endlessly bickering and hitting each other in the back of the car.

“Can you assholes quiet down when we get closer? You’re gonna wake up the old lady and everyone else in the goddamn neighbourhood before we even roll in the fuckin’ driveway,” Mickey says, swatting at them from where he’s sitting in the passenger seat. Ian glances his way with an amused smile that Mickey only just catches when he settles back. He grins in return around the cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“Oh hey, pass one?” Ian asks, holding out his hand. Mickey’s about to give him one before a car speeds around a corner and almost T-bones the side of the van. Ian’s hand snaps back to the wheel to swerve out of the way, and Mickey drops the cigarette to the floor of the van in all the commotion.

“Asshole, watch it!” Ian exclaims as he uselessly flips off the car that’s now long gone down the road. Mickey lets out a guffaw of a laugh and abandons handing him the lost cigarette in favour of placing his own half-smoked one right between Ian’s lips.

The intimacy of the action doesn’t strike him until he’s nudging the cigarette against his mouth and his eyes are tracing the outline of his lips and he can feel the warmth of his breath against his tattooed knuckles. The raw familiarity of the action and the fact that Mickey’s own lips had just been on the cigarette that’s now resting on the edge of Ian’s mouth has his heart racing so quickly he can feel it in his chest like a ton of bricks. Ian casts him a side-glance out of the corner of his eye as he parts his lips to accept it. Mickey takes his hand away and clears his throat, glancing at the rear-view mirror to an oblivious Colin and Iggy.

“Thanks,” Ian mumbles, remembering himself as he snaps out of whatever it had been that passed between them just now.

Mickey wants to kiss him. He really, really wants to kiss him. He’d tried fucking girls and had been less turned on than he was just now doing nothing other than placing his cigarette in Ian’s mouth.

Ian pulls into the drive minutes later, cigarette since burned through and discarded out the window. Mickey tries not to feel the absence of it as though it were his own lips against his and not just the ghost of them stained onto the cigarette.

Colin drags open the side door and hops out with Iggy, zipping open a duffel bag full of guns. Mickey’s grateful for the distraction, for the absolute focus violence requires that he hopes will shove his desire to do something as stupid as kiss Ian out of his head.

“Hey! Whoa, guys, guys! No fucking guns, alright? It’s just a drunk old lady in there,” Ian says, brow furrowed as he looks at Mickey.

Trust Gallagher to be the defender of drunk old ladies. Mickey bites at his lip, trying and failing to ignore the way his chest swells with adoration at Ian’s request. Soft motherfucker. He’s right, though — any unnecessary violence and this could be a way bigger deal than it needs to be. Plus, he’d rather not piss off his only and best friend. He grabs the guns back from his cousins, much to their disappointment, and makes off toward the house.

He hadn’t woken up this morning thinking that today would be the day he’d kiss Ian. Hell, even now he’s sure that if he thinks about it any more he’ll chicken out and never kiss him at all. Mickey Milkovich, with the F-U-C-K U-U-P knuckles, who wears dirt and a scowl like they’re permanent accessories, is going to kiss Ian Gallagher, the freckled boy who protects drunk old ladies and smiles at him like he hangs the damn stars. He figures he was about to storm into an old lady’s house brandishing firearms without second thought or fright. Is kissing someone really that much more terrifying?

Abso-fuckin-lutely.

But there’s nothing between them but the van and Mickey’s fear. And fuck the fear. Fuck it. 

He can pretend that he kisses him for no other reason than to prove a point, than to fulfill some implied dare. 

At the end of the day, he kisses him because he wants to. 

He kisses him because he likes him. 

He kisses him because he loves him.

Mickey’s heart is racing so badly he feels that he might throw up and well, what an impression that would leave. Every part of him is shaking as he turns and takes one step, two steps, pulls himself into the van and…

His lips are against Ian’s. They’re so much softer than he’d imagined (and he had imagined, often) and warm and Mickey can feel the breath from his nose against his own face. He tastes like smoke and freedom and something sweet Mickey can’t place -- a fucking Snickers bar? -- but loves the taste of anyway.

His brain short-circuits. He lingers longer than he had intended to, but it’s real and it’s better than he ever thought it could be. He’d kissed Sarah Perkins on a dare back in 7th grade and he’d gargled vodka afterwards to wash his mouth out.

He’d thought himself broken for it just not feeling right. But this…this feels right. Ian makes him feel right. He had expected, hoped even maybe, that it would feel wrong. That he would kiss him and feel as though he had done something terrible, something worse than stealing from an old lady’s home, but if it does he can’t bring himself to care at the moment.

On his tongue, in his touch, with his laugh, Ian has given him the vocabulary to understand himself. To put a name to feelings mostly only understood in the illuminating glory of hindsight.

He’s spent his whole life outside of himself. Is this what it is to know yourself? Is this what it is for everything to suddenly make sense? He isn’t allowed soft things. He isn’t allowed this.

But here he is anyway.

And the world spins on.

He wants to kiss him again and again and again but he remembers his cousins in the house and what he suspects was probably less than five seconds feels like an eternity and Ian’s lips are starting to respond and move and is that his hand starting to lift to touch him? oh shit what if they come back to get him and this is what they walk in on and --

He pulls back and retreats as quickly as he’d arrived, throwing up a middle finger at Ian. Afraid to kiss him, Mickey’s ass.

Fuck he thinks as he runs back to the house, and can’t think much else but fuckfuckfuck, every inch of him charged and shaking and electric.

“Forgot somethin’,” he says breathlessly to the two boys who are, as it turns out, barely paying him any mind as they bicker between themselves about how they’re going to manage picking up a cabinet heavier than the two of them combined. Mickey’s not listening to them as they end up dropping it to split up and tackle smaller bait.

He grins wickedly to himself. He did it. Mickey goddamn Milkovich made a choice that wasn’t about pain or hurt or violence. He’d made a choice that was his and his alone and it was soft. Mickey Milkovich could choose to be soft, and gentle, and maybe even caring.

And if he can kiss Ian Gallagher? He can do anything.

#reposting this in a better format i think #gallavich #gallavich fic #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #why is read more not working brruhhh this is so long im sorry #IS it working??? idk #if it isnt #sorry!!!! #my bOYS~!!!! #my writing

[spiralesbian]

ALRIGHT

here’s my full Stranger Avatar Sasha Archivist timeline:

(also, thanks to @artbyblastweave for being so interested in my lil au!)

SEASON ONE

sasha james is hired as the head archivist of the magnus institute!

her assistants are jon, tim, and martin

tim takes the thematic role of martin (aka getting tormented by my worm wife jane, and stays in the archives)

sasha reads thru statements and is a skeptic! she really does not believe it’s real until jane comes along.

“tim……………………..did you die here?”

“no, but every time i come to work i die a little more inside.”

cute timsha moment in the supply closet tho.

until martin kool-aid-mans through the door and gets them out of there

jon used to work in artefact storage so he hides in there. he’ll be fine

i actually can’t remember how they all get out but they do it KKJSDGFJHD

sasha takes everyone’s statements. tim is fucked up, martin is also fucked up, jon is actually fine though he seems pretty normal about this whole situation most definitely.

sasha realizes this is a bit more than a regular archivist job.

SEASON TWO

sasha gets paranoid of course. she learns more about gertrude because she never got the chance to meet her

she takes a statement from a guy named michael shelley. weird dude. then helen shows up :)

jon is most definitely himself he is just a normal regular grumpy jon i swear :)

sasha starts to manifest her powers a little bit. she doesn’t know it, but she is an avatar of the stranger, and a prisoner of the eye.

she starts to notice more things about jon? similar to this comic but with jon

eventually she + tim + martin help get jon out of the grip of the NotJon. this is my au and i get to choose who dies (it’s no one because i miss the s1 archival assistants too much).

jon is pretty fucked up from this though and at like a season-3-tim mindset already.

fucking goddamn leitner avatar of the fucking whore shows up to trap the NotJon in one of his shitty fucking novels. fuck this guy tho

he’s like Sasha We Must Talk and shes like okay but stay 8 ft away from me at all times you bitch

she leaves the room for 10 minutes and pipe murder occurs. good riddance

wait are the cops in the season i genuinely can’t remember. if they are, their roles don’t change very much. melanie and sasha feud, battle of the bi queens

SEASON THREE:

uh oh! girlie’s be framed for murder! she crashes at her ex gf georgie’s flat. also the admiral is there don’t think i would EVER cut him out of this story

(also jon is georgie’s ex too because i think that would be fun JDHBFHS)

sasha learns abt an upcoming web ritual (mirroring the unknowing), all that shit. gets kidnapped a ton of times, as usual.

helen is like “i am going to kill you because i hate gertrude <3 i was that dumb bitch’s assistant for too long” but michael busts out of the door like Hi Guys and traps her in the hallway.

sasha also gives her statement about a leitner she found as a child that marked her. its a stranger book and we learn her edgy orphan origin story how her parents were both murked by the stranger. fucked up if true!

back at the archives jon is like so fucking tired of this shit honestly and now martin is also pretty paranoid. also jm romance subplot is still very present!

tim is just trying to protect sasha at all times and he’s pissed she keeps leaving the country and getting fucking kidnapped

(remember when jon persuades the traffic cop?) sasha starts to fill her archivist role in a different way. she can shapeshift into the subject of a statement and uses her affiliation with the eye to coerce statements or info out of people. (example: if she needed a live statement from the guy in #90 Body Builder, she could temporarily make herself look like jared hopworth to the guy and ask “what happened to me?” or “what did i do?” and the guy would be like well he built some fucken bodies i guess let me tell you all about it) while reading the statements in america that refuel her, she fully shapeshifts into the statement giver while reading out loud.

once again i truly can’t remember daisy + basira’s roles until the end of the season. also melanie get shot by the ghost at some point

anyways sasha gets kidnapped by trevor and julia and they gerry lays out all the shit for her and she’s like ah! i’m fucked

tim offhand mentions the web ritual to martin and he loses his shit cause he’s marked by the web blah blah this isn’t a web!martin thing i swear i just need someone to fill tim’s role in the ritual and a lonely ritual would be fucking boring as hell as we learned from ass man peter lukas. i hate that man

so they make the plan to stop the web ritual (which is fucking hard when the offense knows your every move) so sasha, basira, daisy, jon, and martin go.

tim stays back at the institute to burn shit and distract elias. elias does some fucked up shit as usual and it makes me sad

the ritual starts! they have a plan to blow it up and run but like. u know how it goes

instead of the unknowing-stranger-dream-sequence, we get everyone kinda mixed up in a huge spider’s web on the big stage and its still quite confusing because this ritual not only manipulates the prey, but also the prey’s perceived reality. the web is also in current control of the buried coffin cause they think that shit is kinda fun. they yeet daisy into it.

hard to describe what happens, but basira keeps her cool, jon is a bit lost in his own mind, sasha tries to use her powers to escape but fails. she manages to get through to martin through the strings and mounds of spiders and she tosses him the detonator.

[squishing spider noises]

SEASON FOUR:

martin doesn't die, i told you i can't kill the og archival assistants! he does lose most of one leg though, he took the blunt of the explosion.

sasha in da hospital in da coma. tim is mad he can’t wake her up and then my man ollie says “ur fucked up mate” and she wakes up

(and because coma jon has such wild hair controversy, i’m establishing that her head was shaved when she was in the coma. it grows back thru s4. it she keeps one side shaved cause she’s cool)

meanwhile tim is recruited by that dumbass man you know who i don’t even wanna say his stupid fucking name

sasha gets daisy out of the buried. they become avatar pals!

(there is the biggest blank in my memory where all of season four should be. at this point i should just relisten to the entire fucking show but i would literally just forget it all again)

melanie says hm. fuck this! and blinds herself. she goes to live with georgie (and that’s the moment jon and sasha realize they are both georgie’s exes FHFHDJD)

tim continues to fight the lonely pull. he thinks that since p*ter l*kas is tied to the institute, he can blind himself out cause melanie was successful. he is wrong. he is also interrupted by elias midway, and only blinds one eye, and loses most of his sight in the other. elias’s hold on him is weak, but this just drives him way farther into the lonely.

gotta be honest i remember the end of season four but like i couldn’t visualize what was happening at the end so i like don’t understand what happened JGDKFJGD but sasha intervenes (???) and peter yeets tim into the lonely (???) and sasha jumps in (??????) after him. elias is just there i guess?

instead of “look at me martin,” sasha finds tim and at this point her form is warped and hard to recognize because of stranger powers, and tim is almost 100% blind, so she says “don’t look at me, see me. see me tim, it’s me.” and finally creates a clear image of herself. “it’s...it’s you. you’re my sasha.”

they break free and go to scotland i guess KHSDDKDSF

idk what happens with jon and martin im losing continuity at this point. fuck it, they smooch <3

“ah these are the statements.”

“yes. basira said last week she’d send some up as soon as the archives weren’t a crime scene. and she wasn’t sure which ones you’ve read already, so she, she just said she’d send a bunch.”

“.........Hello Sasha.”

(alternate ending: personally i think sasha would read through each statement before speaking them aloud cause that’s what i would fucking do, so she would get this statement and be like “lmao tim come look at this elias trying to prank me dumb bitch think i’ll start the apocalypse for him. fucking little puny bitch boy. anyways what do you want for dinner?”)

SEASON FIVE:

“just. listen.”

“...i’m dead. and you have been chosen to be my replacement as head archivist. hopefully, this means you, jon, but if someone else is hearing this, and elias has made a different choice for some reason, then these words are still very much intended for you.”

sasha in full stranger avatar mode and is like 8ft tall and her faces shift a lot as they go through the realms. except the stranger is the second to last one (the panopticon is last obviously).

helen and michael actually talk shit out in the spiral hallway and now they are mlm wlw solidarity and both like tim and sasha are such bi and trans icons <3 this is so fun don’t you love the fearpocalypse <3

oh daisy n basira trapped in the hunt, and jon and martin are trapped in the stranger. wtgfs + the admiral are like in space or some shit idk but they are ok :)

not much to report other than she is my monster wife <3

i really don’t have many theories to how everything in s5 is gonna pan out, and i would like to closely mirror the actual show, so maybe as we get closer to the end i’ll build more on to this! thanks a lot for all the notes on my first sarchivist post!! also if u wanna make art this specific au DEF tag me in it i’d love to see!!

#WOO tumblr hates formatting huh #anyways. i wrote this all out in like an hour a few weeks ago #but said fuck it! lets post #my posts #sasha #sasha james #tma #the magnus archives #tma fanfic #is it rlly fanfic? i guess #tma headcanons #jon sims #jonathan sims #the archivist #tim stoker #martin blackwood #tma s5 #tma s5 spoilers #ALSO NEW EPISODE THIS WEEK WHAT THE FUCK...life is wacky #sarchivist #sasha archivist

[courtclover]

rw vs by — honorary muse — agent york 

“ Hey, I rather be lucky than good any day. ”

I have no real explanation for this besides that this is @littleblackqrow/khristle’s fault. I just think Clover deserves a sibling and Red vs Blue had a character named York who looks exactly like Clover, acts like him, has a little green, and is dead too therefore they’re related in my mind. 

While, I still like my headcanon of Clover not having any living family, this au is just pure indulgence. This is my ‘what if Clover had a sibling au verse’ and if only three people understand this verse then that’s fine. 

I am pretty much taking a rvb character and putting them into rwby along with a few major key points of their backstory from rvb. This is a by request muse. If you don’t know anything about rvb that’s fine. York isn’t apart of the mainverse for my muse. He just exists because khristle took a bat to my kneecaps. So without further adieu, here’s Clover’s little brother: 

Name: Glen Ebi  Codename: Agent York  Age: 37 Height: 6ft exactly  Sexuality: Heterosexual (smfh)   Aura Color: Tan Brown  Semblance: Sense Probability  Affiliation: Atlesian Military  Occupation: Atlesian Freelancer 

Appearance: Looks exactly like he does in RVB, the armor is his uniform when on duty. He has brown hair in the same stupid haircut as Clover, but York’s eyes are brown. A training accident left him bind in his left eye and he has a visible scar over that eye. Please tell him he’s the prettier brother.

History: Almost identical to the mainverse headcanon except Clover’s mother dies in childbirth when delivering Glen. Father still fuck offs and dies and he leaves behind the Ebi brothers with their grandparents. The grandparents get two new babies to train into military huntsmen except, York finds a pretty redhead in a bar and he follows her into a secret Atlesian science program called Project Freelancer, a super solider program with advance armor suits and A.I technology. Because York joins this very top secret program, he gets a new codename. Legally and officially, Clover has to call his own little brother York.  

Semblance: York can sense and compute probability percentages. “I know for a fact that there’s an 89% chance that this plan is going to work.’ kinda sense, like Maria’s reflexes. There’s no guarantee that it’s always accurate and it goes off the charts when Good Fortune and Misfortune are around. York gets numbers in his head that break out of a 1-100 percentile. Not fair, dudes. 

Idk some interesting fun things I thought about: 

York is far a better fighter than Clover, can shoot guns and kill. 

York has a delta symbol tattooed in green on his back, between his shoulder blades. Clover has a tattoo of his clover emblem on his back in the same position. 

York attended Atlas Academy with every intention to becoming a Huntsman, but then you know, a pretty redhead walked into a bar and changed all that. This is why York has an aura projected and a discovered semblance. 

Clover’s not sure how York learned how to pick locks, but he sucks at it and he gets caught all the time. Clover busts York out of jail a lot. 

Clover makes fish jokes. York makes dad jokes. I hate them so much. 

York is a jerk. Clover is the nicer brother. 

Clover is stupid. York is the more realistic brother. 

York is dead here too and he dies before Clover. I won’t establish a timeline here because again this is a by request muse. The only thing that is, I suppose, a set time mark is by the events of rwby v7, York has been dead a few years. 

I just think Clover and Agent Washington would be best friends :)  

I just think if York were to have a bi awakening it would be with Agent North :) 

Again, all of this is khristle’s fault. 

#( rw vs by — honorary muse — agent york ). #( ☘ v06 — rw vs by ). #now this is out of my head #i can do my drafts agjdsf

[multibug]

4. your voice (adrienette)

AO3

Marinette’s morning went a little like this: 

Waking up thirty minutes past her alarm—one that literally screams into her ear, Marinette skirted the line of obnoxiously late to class and tardiness doesn’t suit you, ms. dupain-cheng by busting through the classroom doors ten minutes after the bell had already rang. Her clothes were sopping wet from the rain outside and her inability to be prepared for Paris’ sporadic rainstorms. An excuse that was so incredibly untrue and fallible resided on the tip of her tongue, but her teacher had just sighed and ushered her to her seat. 

Only to notice that her seat was taken by a certain dad-hat wearing boy and the only seat open was next to Adrien. 

Naturally, her first instinct was to glare at Nino and Alya, both of whom had identical smirks in lieu of her flushed expression. Secondly, she'd decided to raise her chin high and drop into the empty seat, ignoring the stares and whispers she received from literally everyone in the room. 

Adrien nudges her with his shoulder and a small smile meant only for her, waving with one hand—mostly his pointer and middle fingers. 

“Hey,” she whispers in response, fumbling to open her bag and tug out her half-charged tablet. 

Passing of time allowed for the squeaking tendences Marinette had while she was around Adrien to fade into small, subtle stuttering over words every now and then. Though her crush on him has only amplified into something akin to love or at the very least intense infatuation, their friendship has blossomed from a weaved-tight-in-a-cocoon pupa to a fully-grown, magnificently-colored butterfly.

With adulthood around the corner, Marinette lives for the small moments with her friends and family. Her world is going to shift from being coddled to overbearing in a matter of seconds. We’re the Millers replays in her brain over and over,  no ragrets  embedded deep in the what the fuck parts of her mind. 

Marinette takes pride in the day going fairly well up until lunch, Adrien whisked away for a photo shoot before she can get a word in otherwise. He two-finger salutes them with a side-smile that’s so achingly similar to Marinette her heart aches and brain tries to scratch the itch she’s feeling.

Think Marinette, think. 

Alya, Nino, and her sit down at their usual table, spot open for Adrien in case he comes back a bit early—though they know the likelihood of that is slim to none. 

(Out of all the times they’ve held his spot, only once has he strolled in minutes prior to the final bell, in complete confusion over the lack of a body in his everyday seat. 

Nino explained it all to him and a very rare, genuine smile appeared on Adrien’s face that warmed their hearts.) 

“Quick question,” Marinette says, arms crossing over her chest as she drops her tray onto the hot to the touch table. Nino cowers slightly at her glare. “Why were you in my seat, Ninhoe? I nearly had a heart attack walking into class.” 

Nino goes to open his mouth but Alya beats him to it, smirking. “Maybe if you would’ve made it to class on time—”

“—my alarm didn’t go off—”

“—then you’d know that sunshine has laryngitis, so his only way of communicating with us is through terrible hand gestures, texts, writing, or this  stupid  text-to-speech app he downloaded.” 

Perking up as the tone of the conversation shifts ever-so-slightly, Nino sits up straighter in his seat and grins. “You should’ve heard the things that were coming out of that robot’s mouth. I mean tablet’s speaker,” he pauses, scratching his head. “Whatever it is. Look, all I know is that I haven’t laughed that hard in a hot minute.” 

“So then how did you end up in my seat?” 

This time, Nino’s expression turns sheepish as Alya laughs, hands flying about as she speaks, “Adrien’s robot voice told Nino to, and I quote, ‘Go sit with Alya before I flick you in the noggin’.” 

All Marinette can picture is a pouty Adrien pointing to the seat behind them as a cackling Nino drags himself towards her unused chair and Marinette portrays Adrien by giggling, so hard that she clutches her stomach. “Oh, oh that’s too good!” 

“It gets even better.” Nino’s grinning too wide and his eyes are lit with humor. “When we had to do the pop quiz, which you missed by the way, he tried to hand gesture to me that he needed a pen, right?” 

And, oh no, Marinette knows by the tone of Nino’s voice where this is going. 

“So I told him to use his text-to-speech since I didn’t understand him,” Mirth swims around in Nino’s eyes as he talks vividly, the calm boy Marinette’s used to suddenly gone. “So at full volume, he types into the app and it says, ‘Nino, can I please have a penis?’ I thought I was going to have a stroke.” 

“No way,” Marinette chokes out, previous giggles lackluster in comparison to her full-belly laughter over Nino’s retelling of class this morning. “This is the one time I regret being late.” 

On their way back to class after lunch, Alya whips out her phone with her wired headphones, placing one of them in Marinette’s ear. She watches as Adrien’s face reddens so quickly, so unlike his elegant, yet nonchalant stature as soon as the robotic voice is heard. (His small smile afterwards indicates he’s not actually upset, just a tad embarrassed.)

“That poor boy!” Marinette’s laughter echoes through the halls and lasts until they arrive at the classroom. 

 ~*~

“Marinette,” a very robotic voice says to her left as class ends for the day, jolting Marinette from her daydreams about defeating Hawkmoth and living a simplistic life as a fashion designer. 

Not about the pretty model with a heart of gold that tugs on her heartstrings sometimes, nope.

“Adrien?” She questions as she purses her lips together to not laugh at the robotic voice. Half of their class immediately piles out of the room once they’re dismissed, letting their conversation become a little more private. 

Pausing his typing to gauge her reaction, Adrien’s eyes flicker from his furious typing on his tablet to her face. “Alya showed you the video from earlier, didn’t she?” 

How does he know? Is he a psychic or something? “W-What do you mean? What video?” 

Adrien sends her a slightly unamused look and Marinette’s lips quirk into a grin, arm coming up to drape over the top of the bench behind him. His eyes glance at her hand, which just barely—accidentally, she swears it—grazes his shoulder. He scoots slightly closer to her so the back of his shoulder is pressed against the front of hers, eyes blinking as if to say is this okay?

Always for you, she thinks, biting her lip.

Instead of a verbal answer, Marinette lays her arm over his shoulder and allows him to settle against her body, in a half hug. “Are you feeling okay?” 

Head resting in the crook of her neck, Adrien grunts and mutters hoarsely, “Hurts.” 

“Adrien, no offense, but your voice sounds like shit. Use your app.” 

The noise he makes can barely be considered human, and Marinette squeezes his shoulder with her hand as she laughs gently. She turns her head and her lips brush the top of his hair in a fleeting kiss, Adrien stilling against her. 

Shit. “Adrien, I’m so sorry, that was crossing a line, I—” She goes to pull away from him, but he stops her immediately, reaching for the tablet and hastily typing. 

“Nooooo-o-o-o-ooooh, Marinette it’s okay. It felt really rice.” The blush that crosses Adrien’s face is so cute, so sweet, so endearing that Marinette can’t help but wrap her other arm around him and tug him closer to her. 

For the first time ever, Marinette isn’t the one embarrassing herself in front of Adrien.

Huh, that’s new. 

“Well, your hair feels really poft,” she tells him with a small giggle, his lips curling up amusedly as his green eyes meet hers.

Embarrassing himself even more, Adrien types, “Your farms are really strong. You could probably break me in half like it was muffin.”

“That’s what you choose to say? That I could break you in half like muffin?” 

She has no idea what this means for them, whether  this is something or if it’s a fleeting moment in their timeline. Whatever it is, she’s excited and ready. 

Adrien let out a small whine, jutting his lower lip out prettily. “Stop making fun of the dick kid, Mari! It’s not nice.”

“That one was on purpose, wasn’t it?” 

The smirk on Adrien’s face says it all.

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrienette #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug fanfiction #mine #lovesquarefluffweek2020 #late but done #pls

[thewebcomicsreview]

Homestuck 2 Liveblog, Part 3 

(See older parts here or on Tumblr here)

Chapter 3: How Are your feelings

We’ve got a new ship, which appears to have sails for some reason, and it’s either rocketing forward with determination, or crashing. Presumably, this is the ship containing the Meatworld Crew, who set out to rescue Rose from Dirk’s mind control. God, this plot is so complicated.

In anyone else’s hands, this is just a microphone. In my hands it’s a pipe boat. 

The one spoiler I had for this chapter was that the ship design was stupid, and...yes. That says “Grandpa Harley” a lot more than the Theseus did, though I don’t think Canon Jake ever smoked.

Oh boy, the narration text is in the first person. It’s also lowercase, so one presumes this is Calliope, in Jade’s body? I thought Calliope was trying to maintain the role of invisible narrator, though, and she’s calling attention to herself more obviously than any of the other narrators.

Me on my way to steal your girl by possessing her and floating around all creepy for three years

JADE: the prince’s power grows.

KARKAT: JESUS CHRIST!

Heh. This art is really nice. Jade’s speaking in Calliope’s red text, so she is indeed possessed by Calliope. Poor Jade. Homestuck proper is 8,192 pages. The epilogue is 100,000 words, and we’re 100 pages into Homestuck 2. Jade has been stuck on a boat, possessed, unconscious, dead,possessed again, or otherwise out of the story since Cascade, all the way back on page 4,109. No wonder she became a hedonist. Of course, who’s fault is it that Jade missed the final battle.

(From Homestuck 1). 

I always read this as foreshadowing that Jade would get a big moment, and it never happened. Hopefully someone on the writing team remembers that Jade is supposed to roar to life and show everyone who’s the real master. But for now, alas, the real master is Calliope, hypocritically fighting for the free will of all by taking Jade out of the story again. Anyway, that was a long tangent and a lot of search (give me back the .txt file of the whole comic, Viz!) back to Homestuck 2.

Oh hey, DaveKat is canon now, I forgot. It’s mildly annoying that Dave and Calliope are in the same scene with the same text color, but whatev.

Aww, Karkat’s wearing Dave’s shirt. How cute. Less cute: Calliope’s added her red to Jade’s outfit, including her logo. She’s really just as evil as Dirk, isn’t she?

Also, I don’t know if this sprite style quite works for a “leaning up in bed pose”

This just looks odd. Probably doesn’t help that we’re see Dave without shades for I believe the first time ever.

KARKAT: OH, PARDON THE FUCK OUT OF ME FOR OVERREACTING A LITTLE WHEN MY GOOD FRIEND "POSSESSED JADE" BUSTS INTO MY RESPITEBLOCK AT 5 AM!

Aw, I missed this, a Karkat tantrum.

I like this dynamic. But if they’ve been on this boat as long as Dirk has been on his, Jade’s been possessed for three years.

Why are Dirk and Calliope’s powers growing, though? Especially Calliope, shouldn’t she be maxed out by now? She literally ate Lord Engl-

....

Oh

Calliope is powerful enough to escape Candyland because she ate Lord English, and Lord English is partially comprised of Dirk, so there’s quite literally a little bit of Dirk inside Calliope right now. That’s maybe something to keep in the back of our minds, but now I’m theorycrafting. 

The only way twenty-somethings can afford an apartment this night is if they live somewhere with a killer commute, which is why it takes three years to get anywhere

Okay, phew. So this Roxy is trans, but the Roxy on Candyland isn’t. That’s something I’m going to have to be careful to remember lest I use the wrong pronoun for the wrong one and everyone gets mad at me.

Dirk, like the coffee, getting roasted here

So, has this crew not been chasing Dirk for three years, or has Dave just been all “I sure am comfortable with you being trans now” incessantly from age 23 to age 26? I guess that’s pretty in-character for him. Everyone seems to not be used to a situation they should be used to be now so far, but maybe that’s just for our benefit as readers who can’t remember all this nonsense? 

I love how Kanaya the Fashion Troll is basically the only character in the entire franchise to go “Fuck I haven’t been onscreen in over ten years I should change my look”. The big bow is Rose’s from way back when her and Kanaya first met, which is a cute nod. 

Okay I get that they want to remind these things to the reader, but Dave. Dude. She’s your sister-in-law. She’s been your sister-in-law for 7 to 10 years depending on how long you’ve been on that boat and she’s been a vampire that whole time. Someone give this boy a set of flash cards, Jesus Christ! 

OBVIOUS FORESHADOWING ALERT: This story is about a “young prince”, and this is going to be a metaphor. The young prince is Dirk, the Prince of Time, and the Rose is....Rose. 

Aww, this is cute. I should have put on Kanaya’s Theme while reading this, it fits the mood of the scene really well.

Oh man, none of these people know John’s dead

fffffffffffffffff

Okay, so that’s 7 years between the end of Homestuck 1 and the Homestuck Epilogues. Dirk’s been on his boat for three years, but we’re with the Meat Crew at the start of their journey, (which means Roxy only recently came out as trans, which I guess makes it less weird that Dave is still processing it).

But god, this is a lot of timelines to keep track of. I guess it’s fun in a way, being intensely convoluted was part of the fun of trying to piece together Homestuck 1′s plot, but I think I’m this close to busting out a white board where and how old everyone is actually fuck it

God as my witness, I will one day have a vague understanding of what the fuck is going on in Homestuck and I will die trying! 

This seems metatextual, in that the characters are more complete when they have like a goal and stuff. Or it might be the Homestuck 2 writers taking a subtle jab at the Epilogue writers, that everyone’s better off having left the epilogues behind and moving on to Homestuck 2. That might be reading too much into it. 

Of course, as soon as I say that we cut from Dave talking about how everything’s better to Karkat talking about how everything’s worse.

Wait, non-god Calliope is on the ship? UGH, the whiteboard already needs to be updated! The epilogues implied she was too scared of god-Calliope to leave her room, so I’d assumed she’d stayed behind. Damn it.

Heh. Also: Huh? Karkat is making a lot of assumptions here, given that Terezi, Sollux, and Aradia are all alive, he never saw Gamzee die, and Vriska dying just made her more powerful.

And that’s the update! I like these character interactions, even though they’re mostly just sitting around and naval-gazing like in Act 6 and the epilogues, because at least it’s got some jokes it feels like it’s all going somewhere. And starting next month, it’s going to be going there twice as fast

#Homestuck #Homestuck 2 #Homestuck 2 Liveblog

[homespork-review]

Homespork Act 2: The Racism of the Conductor’s Baton (Part 4)

BRIGHT: Even having lived in this all his life, Dave nearly gives himself a serious injury launching stuff out of his sylladex. This is a bit more nerve-wracking than John launching PDAs and towels out of the window.

TIER: I'm personally amazed that he hasn't lost any bits to improper handling of fireworks. That shit can really fuck someone that doesn't know what they're doing up, especially a small kid is at risk of losing some fingers.

CHEL: Particularly when he disposes of them in the garbage disposal - that in itself would probably be okay if one soaked the fireworks in the sink but the blades could possibly cause a spark with the metal filings in the firework… I don’t know if that’s possible but the fact that he chooses to dispose of fireworks that way implies to me that he doesn’t know how to safely handle them. I wouldn’t risk it that way myself.

TIER: Realistically the Strider home is just a huge accident waiting to happen, between all the dangerous stuff just out in the open and strewn about in precarious spots and the fetish puppets piled all over.

CHEL: Speaking of which, Dave notices “HELLO DAVE” written in sloppy bright red inside a jigsaw-piece outline on the crawlspace hatch. Dave knows it’s a mind game but opens the hatch anyway, spilling out a huge pile of Smuppets which completely envelops him. It is from here he sent his previously-seen rant to Rose. Which of course we now have to read again…

GET ON WITH IT!: 8

Now, I must mention here that, in most works, the random jumping around in time would be a count of its own for me. I hate it when that happens, it’s unnecessarily confusing. However, there is an ongoing theme of time, time-travelling, and changing timelines in Homestuck, so it at least serves to introduce us to that.

A note pinned to the hatch with a batarang reads thusly, in mismatched fonts/colours, reading eerily as if two people were writing:

bro. roof. now. bring cal. where doing it man where MAKING THIS HAPEN

At least Bro encourages Dave’s writing project, as that latter part is a SBaHJ reference.

I think we all wanted to see Dave take out some frustration on those things.

Back to John, after making a little fort with the cruxite dowels and bedsheets, he uses the Totem Lathe to make the “totems” of various item codes. As I mentioned above, I feel like this is an unnecessary step in the creation process. Why not just have a way to enter the code directly into the Alchemiter? Anyway, Rose uses the previously-useless “Shale” stash to create some more captchalogue cards, increasing John’s inventory size, and recreate the pogo ride and hammer lost to the punched cards. A randomly-entered code produces a rocket pack with a violin, cinderblock, and flower pot halfway merged inside it, leaving it unusable for its intended purpose but heavy enough to kill imps.

John looks through a copy of “Harry Anderson: Wise Guy” by Mike Caveney, encountering the hole-in-the-ace, or “A-Hole”, card trick. Silly name given here aside, it’s a real trick and the way shown is really how you do it. It gives John an idea, and he overlaps two punched cards and uses them both together, creating this.

FAILURE ARTIST: John is smarter than people give him credit for.

CHEL: Yeah, on further examination I don’t think my assumption that he didn’t know who Obama was was being very fair to him. He’s certainly easily distracted, but I don’t think any of the various cast members can truly be described as stupid.

The Pogo Hammer works fine in that it allows him to kill an imp with a single blow, but it sends him and the pogo ride the imp was on flying in the process. Fortunately, Rose is able to move his bed quickly enough to catch him. Unfortunately, those larger monsters are still slowly approaching… Exactly how fucking slowly do these things move? It’s not like the distance they have to cover is huge in proportion to their bodies.

John asks Rose why she can’t just lift the bed up to the gate with him on it, but the game doesn’t allow for that - Rose guesses it’s considered cheating. Against Rose’s advice, John decides to nap, lulled by the hypnotic spirograph of the gate, while Rose experiments with the alchemy system. Deciding to sleep while still surrounded by imps adds to our count again:

HURRY UP AND DO NOTHING: 3

If he has time to nap, he ought to have time to emotionally react, too.

We see Rose in the mausoleum again, the fire getting closer and closer in the window, sparks of firelight flickering around her. Concerned that Dave isn’t helping her, she checks the SBurb server CD for a code to send to John so he can be her server player instead, but it has no code. Outside, the generator overheats and blows, and Rose’s laptop finally shuts down.

Another animation shows what is presumably, and is later confirmed to be, John’s dreams. From a spirograph in a clear blue sky emerge clouds, which take on the forms of John’s dad’s face and various items such as the green ghost, a birthday cake, and a harlequin, the largest and final cloud coalescing into the silhouette of a long-haired girl about John’s age who is obviously not Rose; this, we can guess, is probably GG. This fades into quick flashes of spirographs and pumpkins, and John wakes, surprised, to find GG is messaging him.

TIER: GG once more hints at knowing more about what's happening (like the fact that John's dead nanna is around to give him advice), but is apparently waiting for a specific time to say what exactly. Curiouser and curiouser.

BRIGHT: She also tells John that he needs to wake up. This sounds like a setup for an “It was all just a dream!” twist, but what she actually means is a lot weirder. It takes quite a while to get to that point, however!

TIER: Then there's a Fucking Huge Imp that's decided to impersonate King Kong and it is terrifying, who let this happen. We've got what looks like a boss battle brewing babes!

And then we cut back to Dave, who ascends to the roof with the demon puppet from somewhere worse than hell as instructed in a pretty dope looking and sounding flash. And with another sneak at his elusive as shit bro, we...

Get psyched, and then there's a new kid brought to our attention. Someone that looks quite a bit like the silhouette that showed up in John's little nap

And THEN

We get A Double Psycheout Combo as we go back to the Wayward Vagabond, who is not here for this Retrieve Arms running gag. What he is however is hungry, seeing as he scarfs down a rotten pumpkin between one frame and the next. He also doesn't have the ability to captchalogue stuff, so that's a thing he's got going for him.

Another thing to note is that he has some kind of barcode that brings back “unpleasant memories” he'd rather not think about. After getting some more cans (cans for days my dudes) he promptly declares himself the mayor of Can Town, there presumably being not much else to do while inside the room he's in. Dude seems fond of democracy, and quite obviously has issues with kings.

The guy seems to have an amusing (to me at least) thing about eating green things, nothing is safe. Not even uranium. And though the two green sticks have been munched, the rest of the chalk is used for its intended purpose. He doodles up a town layout, a chess board (with an assist from some motor oil), and then covers the walls in strange planets. A golden planet with a moon, four peculiar planets without anything orbiting them, and pretty separate from the rest a purple mirror to the golden planet. Damn dude this entire wall smells like foreshadowing.

We get a look at the strange screen thingy again, John's window still the only one showing anything, and WV is not familiar enough with whatever this contraption is to turn on the dead screens.

He the manages to accidentally bust out some kind of soda stash and it's like Christmas has come early in the bunker. It's like watching a kid get into the super sugary drinks.

CHEL: Specifically, it’s a reference to this, except it works: "The Simpsons- Homer's first day at work at Home!/" (Watch on YouTube)

TIER:

With that out of the way, we're back to the weird machine, which can show more than John apparently! The other screens are garbled though, especially screen three brings up so many questions. Like seriously what in the fresh hell is that, that right there is worthy of a round of “people not in the fandom explain what's happening”.

There's a countdown visible as well, spanning all four screens, and it gets more or less locked into that. WV then proceeds to shoot the shit for nearly four hecking hours, leaving 13 minutes to go on the countdown.

#homestuck #homestuck review #homestuck meta #homestuck reread #let's read homestuck #literary critique #sporking #Homespork

[the--blackdahlia]

Too Young to Fall in Love Chapter 23 (Dirt!Nikki x Reader)

Title: Too Young to Fall in Love 23

Summary: Nikki Sixx was a hard partying musician on the strip. He never expected to fall in love with anyone, until a girl knocked on his dressing room door looking for a ride home and took his breath away. Just like everything else Nikki did; the drugs, the money, the music; Nikki went hard with love. (Y/n) Bass never expected the bassist of Motley Crue to be the one to shake her calm and calculated life up. She had a plan. Graduate school, become an epic producer, and watch from behind the scenes as her brother’s band rose to fame. Nikki and (Y/n) were perfect for each other, too bad her brother, Tommy, didn’t think so.

Series warnings:  Smut (18+ Please), drug use, language, referenced miscarriage, drug overdose, mentioned attempted suicide, out of character moments for everyone in the band, the timeline might be a little screwy but it’s fanfiction! I know nothing of music production and my medical knowledge is really screwy, so it won’t be accurate.

Here’s a chapter since I have to work all day tomorrow and won’t feel like posting. Enjoy guys!

AN: For this chapter, play Home Sweet Home by Motley Crue & Chester Bennington

(Y/n) was waiting for Nikki at home. She kept looking at the clock, waiting for him. Worry had already passed by the time she blew out the candles on the table. He wasn’t coming home like he had promised. So that worry in the back of her mind was pushed aside for something else. It was still worry, but more on the side of fear. Fear that he was dead somewhere. Fear that he was between the legs of another woman. Fear that the reason he didn’t come home anymore was because he didn’t love her anymore.

She looked down at the ring on her finger, twisting it some. He didn’t show her off the way he used to. Yeah, they had their own thing; she had her bands and he had his. But he also had pictures in magazines of him with girls in skirts that could double as belts and tops that were rejected bikinis. She looked down at herself. Why would he want her when he could have any other girl? He could get a girl like Tommy’s. Long, blonde hair, tan skin, legs that go for miles.

Twenty minutes had went by since she last looked at the clock. She didn’t hear the sound of Nikki’s Porsche in the driveway by her simpler Chevy. He wasn’t going to come through that door anytime soon. If he wasn’t back by now, he wasn’t coming back at all. And if he did, he would have some excuse. Band practice went over late. Traffic was awful. Tommy did something stupid and he had to help clean it up. She knew her brother was an idiot, but Nikki had used that line one too many times here recently. All the missed anniversaries, the missed birthdays, it was all too much to handle. The broken promises only made her heart break even more.  

So, she made a decision.

She went to their room and started to pack. She would give him until she had her bag packed. If he wasn’t back by then, she was leaving. And, sure enough, he wasn’t back. Why would he be if he was out doing something more fun than being at home with her? She wrote a note, hoping he would come home before she got it finished, but he didn’t. She made her way back to the living room, looking for the perfect spot to put it. That’s when she saw his favorite bass on the stand. He didn’t like using it at concerts, because he didn’t want it to get broken. (Y/n) was sure he didn’t want to use it because she had gotten it for him back when they were still happy together. She wove the letter into the strings, hearing it groan with sadness as the paper rubbed over them.

She looked down at the engagement ring. With a sigh, she slid it off, hanging it on one of the tuning knobs. Grabbing her bag, she left the house. In her car, she dialed the first number she could think of, trying to keep the tears at bay.

“Hello?” Vanessa answered on the other end.

“H-hey. I...I need someplace to crash for the night. And I need the girls to all come over.” (Y/n) whispered softly.

“(Y/n)? What happened are you ok?” Vanessa sat straighter on her couch hearing the distress in her friends voice.

“I...I just left Nikki…”

*****

Nikki woke up at his dealer's house, groggy and feeling empty. He had to get to (Y/n) and their date. He didn’t even bother to look at the time as he pushed himself up and hoped that he looked presentable, not realizing how bruised his arms looked or disheveled his hair was. As he walked outside, he squinted. It was sunny out. They could go enjoy a picnic or the beach.

Wait. It was sunny out.

He cursed himself out and ran to his car. He had fucked up. He had spent the night at a strangers house that he had no business being at, doing things that he wouldn’t even tell (Y/n) about. Driving off, he rushed home. He didn’t look to see if her Chevy was in the spot that she always parked in or anything like that. Instead, he just barrelled through the front door like a man on a mission.

“(Y/n)!” Nikki called. He looked around for her. “(Y/n) you home?”

Last night, she was home. He would know, well, actually, he wouldn’t. Because he didn’t come home last night like promised. The house was silent as Nikki made his around, looking for her. His chest began to constrict, he could feel himself hyperventilating.  He didn’t see any sign of her. The drawers in their room were empty her things were gone from their closet.  He made his way back to the living room, thinking maybe it was a sick joke or something. He looked to where his prized bass sat. It was his absolute favorite and he barely let anyone touch it. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to take it on tour where it could get stolen or broken. That’s when he noticed something off about it. There on the bass, was a note and an engagement ring. With shaky hands, he grabbed the note and began to read it.

He picked up on keywords. The most he got out of it was she would get her things while he was on tour, she loved him, and she wished it could’ve worked out differently. Once it all started to register in his mind, he could feel the anger growing in his chest. Not at her, never at her, but more at himself. He did this to her, he let his demons destroy him. Taking his bass that he had carried in with him from his late, drug infused night, he began smashing everything in sight. The TV was the first to go, followed by the pieces of glassware that the stupid interior designer just thought they had to have. Windows were shattered and would need to be replaced. The walls they had lovingly painted together now were full of holes. When the poor bass just couldn’t be a battering ram anymore, he took to throwing things. Picture frames, his awards, books, magazines, records. It all went flying. And when that didn’t satisfy him anymore, he hit the wall repeatedly, busting through the drywall. He saw one more frame and grabbed it, ready to heave it like the other, when he caught a glimpse of what it was. The picture at Disneyland at Sleeping Beauty's castle.  They had been so happy, so in love in that picture. And he had destroyed it. He had destroyed her. In this case, it wasn’t beauty that killed the beast.

Falling to his knees in the middle of all the glass, he felt the tears falling from his eyes. He didn’t care if the glass was cutting him up or that his hands were throbbing from hitting the wall. He just sat there, numb to everything. He didn’t hear a car pull up on the sound of his front door being thrown open by someone. He honestly just wanted to be left to his misery.

“Nikki!” A voice called out from the front door. “You son of a bitch! Where are you?” It was Tommy. He had been with Heather last night when a call came through and all he got was “(Y/n) needs help” before she was gone, leaving him with more questions than answers.

Tommy froze looking at the scene. Broken glass and ceramic everywhere. A bass smashed to bits, the TV destroyed, pictures broken. He carefully walked around the glass and to the sobbing Nikki. He wasn’t sure what to say, he didn't want this to happen. Hell, he was probably the catalyst for some of it but he didn't want this.  

“What happened?” Tommy asked. “Heather went off last night to Vanessa’s. She hasn’t been back yet. Did you do this while (Y/n) was here?” He knelt in front of Nikki.

“She’s gone,” was all Nikki said.

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Tommy picked up the note and read it. He looked at Nikki, feeling a tug as his heart. “Nik…”

“I bet you’re happy now,” Nikki sneered. “You got your wish Tom. She left me… It’s over.” Nikki picked himself up. His skin was torn and bloody, and he just needed something to dull the pain at this point. He needed his fix. He needed the very thing that had drove her away. Walking to his entertainment center he pulled on a loose board and pulled out the bag of blow and grabbed a bottle of Jack. “Just leave.”

“I didn’t want it to end this way Nik…” Tommy whispered. “I didn’t want this to happen.”

Nikki snorted a line and took two big swigs of Jack, “Bull fucking shit!” he growled and glared at Tommy. “When she wasn't your sister, when you didn't know… she was the girl who literally stole my heart. The smart girl who wasn't a groupie just wanting to be fucked by a rock star so shut your face and fucking leave!”

“I’ll talk to her. I...I’m sorry man.” Tommy left then, leaving Nikki there alone. Tommy stood outside the front door and ran a hand down his face. What had he done?

NIkki did line after line but nothing worked. He couldn’t numb his pain. He walked past his room and lay in one of the guest rooms. He couldn’t go in and see the empty drawers couldn’t looks at the closet and seeing her things gone. He thought he would be strong and just go to sleep, but instead, he felt the tears falling faster than he could wipe them away.

He had only ever loved one woman in his life, truly loved, and she was gone.

****

The band had been on tour for three days when (Y/n) returned to the place Vanessa was sharing with her boyfriend. He had felt really bad about what had happened with his bandmate and giving (Y/n) the wrong drugs, and (Y/n) was cool, so he didn’t mind her staying. She saw Vanessa standing at the stove and took a deep breath.

“Nessa...I have some news.” (Y/n) told her as she came into the kitchen.

“Lay it on me girl,” Vanessa said as she placed a plate of eggs and bacon in front of (Y/n).

“I quit Elektra.” She told her. “I took the job at MCA, since they’ve been after me since I started at Elektra.”

“YOU WHAT!” Vanessa looked at her, “does Tommy know?” she asked careful to not mention Nikki.

“No, I haven’t had a chance to tell him.” She told her friend. “He’s in Japan and I don’t exactly have an international phone plan. None of the guys know yet.”

"(Y/n)," Vanessa said softly. "Are you sure it's a good idea?" She looked to her friend. "You guys could just…" (Y/n) shook her head. She couldn’t go back now. She couldn’t stand knowing that he was just down the hall from her with a new girl while she was miserable without him.

“An artist from MCA already requested me. I know Metallica is upset but...Tom Petty asked me to produce him.” She looked at Vanessa for her reaction.

"You're going to represent Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers!" She squeaked. "Wow! How did Metallica take it?"

“Not good...they threatened to quit Elektra and follow me to MCA.” She laughed a little. “They’ll be fine though. Just hope they don’t try to beat up…” She trailed off. She was sure that Vanessa got the point.

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Vanessa muttered. "Vince says he's… he's gotten worse…" (Y/n) closed her eyes.

“Well, he did it to himself.” She sighed. “But god I miss him so much. I feel empty without him…”

"Maybe it was just supposed to be for a little while. I mean… who knows, maybe you guys need to work through your own demons before actually being together?" She said hopefully.

‘Yeah, maybe.” (Y/n) sighed. “Heather told me she has a friend that she wants me to meet when I feel like dating again.”

"Oh? Well that could be interesting," Vanessa smiled at her. "I have a date tonight with John."

“You two are cute together.” (Y/n) said. “I’m gonna go hang out with Heather or Athena tonight, so I’m not in the way of things…”

"(Y/n), you don't have to," Vanessa have her a soft smile. "John knows you need girl time. And it's not an exciting date...I just…"

“You know, I bet once Vince works through his demons, he’ll be back to you.” (Y/n) told her.

"I'm happy with John...I think." She whispered. "It's not that I don't love him...I do it's just… God how did I go from liking pop to rock?"

“Times change things.” (Y/n) told her with a smile. “Remember the person I was just a while ago. I miss her sometimes...”

"Me too," Vanessa said and hugged her. "But this girl has kickass hair and is a tough producer who gets results. So, who do you think Heather wants to hook you up with? Hot Hollywood star?"

“She hasn’t said. She told me just to take my time, but he’s really interested in meeting me.” She shrugged. “She said that she wants to make sure I have a kick ass date for her wedding to piss him off…”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Vanessa shook her head. From what she heard from Vince, Nikki was spiraling hard.

****

On tour Nikki was numb, he wasn't even sure what day of the week it was. All he knew was to get high get his bass and play. She was in his dreams when he finally did sleep, and any woman he saw out there that looked like her, he wanted to sweep up into his arms. Japan was a blur, so was the second leg of the tour.

“Hey man.” Tommy said, taking a seat by him. Nikki had talked to Tommy, but looking at him hurt, because he had the same eyes as (Y/n). “How you doing?”

“Fine,” Nikki sat back after taking a hit. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Well, I know this is a little awkward to ask this now, but I was wondering if you’d be my best man.” Tommy said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Huh? Yeah sure, sounds good.” he said and grabbed a joint. Nothing he grabbed could take the pain away. He still felt it. It was months now and things didn’t get better.

“We’ll be going home for a month. Gonna see if you can win her back?” Tommy asked.

“Huh? No I’m fine.” Nikki just stared out the plane window. He wasn’t even sure what Tommy was saying. His mind just kept thinking of her, the way she smiled, and her laugh, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about things that really interested her. Looking around he grabbed the bottle of jack and chugged half of it. He just sat there letting his body go numb.

Soon, they were back in LA. They went to Elektra to go over the last leg of the tour, which was Europe. The whole time though, Nikki kept thinking about the girl up in the office he needed to talk to.feeling a bit sober, he pushed the button to the offices in the elevator and made his way up. He felt nervous. He hadn't seen her since the day of the photoshoot and he was sure she was pissed at him. Reaching the floor he stepped off and made his way to where her office was.  

“(Y/n), I’m sorry, I…” Nikki froze as he came to where her office had been. Her name plate was gone off the door and all her stuff was gone. The office was in the process of being repainted, but Nikki had a feel that she wasn’t moved just for that. His heart was pounding in his chest as he went towards his manager's office. “Where’s (Y/n)?”

“Oh...she quit not long after you guys went on tour.” He told Nikki. “She got an offer working for MCA I think. Her bands are really upset. She was making them a lot of money. They threatened to go with her. And I gotta say, Metallica can be pretty scary...”  

“She...she’s gone?” Nikki asked.    

“‘Fraid so man. I’d hate to be the person that pissed her off enough to leave. She really liked it here. We really liked having her here.”

She was gone, he had missed her. She left because of him. The walls felt like they were closing in on him and his chest felt tight. He ran to the elevator and pressed the button, he needed to get numb again he hated these feelings needed to shut them off.

And heroin was great at that.

Forever Tags:  @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316 @horrorpxnk

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Nikki Sixx Tags:  @daisystuffsstuff @unknownoblivion

Too Young to Fall in Love Tags:  @kingbouji3 @leximus98 @thekidbakerinthetardis @crystalbaby12 @shawnsstxtches @knockemdeadgirl

#too young to fall in love #Motley Crue #nikki sixx #nikki sixx x reader #nikki x reader #the dirt #dirt!nikki sixx #dirt!nikki sixx x reader #dirt!nikki x reader #dirt!nikki #fanfiction

[high-queen-margo]

Echoes

Summary:  Margo confronts her new feelings for Kady/Sam after recovering her memories. Pairing: Margo/Kady Length: 1,968

 Read on AO3

Margo. Her name was Margo Hanson. Her memories—her real memories—entwined with those she’d had just hours ago, appending but not rewriting. Her name was High King Margo Hanson the Destroyer, not Janet Pluchinsky the fashion editor.

And Sam Cunningham was still Sam Cunningham, not Kady Orloff-Diaz. She squinted at Margo and looked her up and down, her eyes lingering on the eyepatch in her hand.

“…Janet?”

Margo nodded.

Sam let her breath out and pulled her into a hug. “We were so worried; you just fucking disappeared off the face of the earth.” She pulled back. “What happened? Is this…you? The real you?”

“Yeah, it is,” Margo said. “You were worried? We barely know each other.” You don’t actually know me at all, she thought. Not right now. You don’t even know yourself.

But then, Margo hadn’t lost her memories of being Janet. She remembered perfectly well how quickly she’d taken to Sam, how, despite having just met each other, Sam had made her feel safe and protected and less lonely than she’d ever been in her life.

In Janet’s life.

She had to keep reminding herself that she hadn’t really lived it, that any memories she had beyond a couple months ago were entirely fabricated. Still, though, they felt real, and honestly, the loneliness wasn’t exclusive to that life. For the most part, Margo was just as lonely as Janet.

“Yeah, well. We’re in an entirely unique situation,” Sam said. “That tends to bring people together.”

“Yeah, I guess it does,” Margo said. “As for what happened, the clone of a dead god from a parallel universe pulled me into said universe, and the people there fixed my identity. Because I’m their king, and they need me to fix their shit.”

Sam blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, crazy, I know,” Margo said. “I’d go into more detail, but I don’t have the patience and it’ll be faster to just get you guys all fixed up too. Have you found anyone else since I’ve been gone?”

Sam shook her head. No,” she said, “it’s only been a couple days; we haven’t managed to track anyone down. And Marina hasn’t really made any progress getting through whatever’s blocking us, either.”

“Okay, that’s fine,” Margo said. “It’s fine. We can find the others; I just need you back to help me. The real you.”

“Janet—”

“It’s Margo, actually.”

Sam reached out and squeezed Margo’s shoulder. “Margo,” she said. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

Margo stared up at her, at the face both familiar and unfamiliar, and she could tell Sam meant it. Maybe Kady wouldn’t have, had she been herself and had she known who Margo really was—they never had gotten along particularly well—but Sam wanted nothing more in that moment than to soothe her. Tears prickled in Margo’s eyes.

“They’re my friends,” she whispered. “And yours. Quentin, Julia…Eliot. And they’re missing. They aren’t supposed to be missing.”

Sam brushed Margo’s hair away from her face and gently moved her thumb over her cheek to wipe a tear away. “We were—are—pretty close, aren’t we? All of us?”

Some of us, Margo thought, but she nodded. There was no point in telling the truth and driving her away when her real memories would do it soon enough. Sam slid her hands down Margo’s arms and took her hands in her own, and Margo tried to see through Sam’s face to Kady’s. They looked similar in a way: the strong jawline, the sharp eyes. She could even imagine the words in Kady’s voice. Maybe this is what Kady would have been like if she’d had a better life, and maybe Janet was what Margo would have been like if she’d had one herself.

“Well,” Sam said, snapping her out of it, “everyone’s in the other room. We can get them and head over to…where are we going?”

“Fillory.”

***

Margo watched as the glamour lifted first from Penny, then Josh, then Kady. They blinked and glanced around as if waking from a dream.

“Wow,” Josh said. “Just…wow.”

“Holy shit.” Kady yanked her hair out of its bun and ran her fingers through it to shake it out. “God, how long were we under that fucking spell? I can’t even tell.”

“A couple months, I think,” Margo said. “Good news is I doubt they were expecting us to break out of it. Ever. So we should be able to fly under the radar for a while. Bad news is half our posse is gone, so if we can go find them now, that would be great; I have a country with a year’s worth of problems to solve and our own world is getting double-tapped by the Library and that McAllistair bitch. We need a plan, stat.”

“Right,” Penny said. “I swear to god, if this timeline gets to be as fucked as mine…”

Kady’s eyes lingered on Penny for a moment before flicking up to meet Margo’s. She looked away and made for the door.

“Let’s get back to the portal.”

It was a longer trip than Margo would have liked; even in the carriages, it took a good hour to get there, and she wanted to busy herself as much as possible. She had to scrub Janet out of her mind; Janet wasn’t real, but her missing friends were, and Fillory was, and the things that happened while she thought she was Janet didn’t matter.

Those things would have been easier to ignore if Kady hadn’t climbed into her carriage and forced Penny and Josh together into the other one. Margo folded her hands in her lap and looked out the window as the horses lurched forward, drawing them away from Castle Whitespire.

“Can we talk?”

Margo reluctantly turned back toward Kady. “About?”

“Okay,” Kady said, “I know this is really fucking weird. I don’t know how to talk about it either, but…You know, you feel it too, right? That life?”

Margo sighed. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you remember being Janet, don’t you? Every little thing, like you really lived it.”

“Those memories are fake.”

“They feel real, though,” Kady said. “The personality, too. I feel like I’m…” Kady shook her head and crossed her arms. “It’s stupid. I feel like I’m still her, a little bit. Sam.”

Margo nodded slowly. “Yeah,” she said, “I know what you mean.”

“Listen,” Kady said. “Those things you said to me, right before we left to come here? I’ve never seen you that vulnerable before, and—”

“Janet can keep the vulnerability,” Margo said. “It was a slip. I can’t afford to be vulnerable right now.”

“You slipped because I was still Sam,” Kady said. “I’m good at reading people, Margo, and I was even better at it as a detective. I know you’re worried about your image or whatever, and I won’t tell anyone, but I wanted you to know that if you ever need to talk…like that…you can come to me.”

Margo studied Kady’s face. “There’s no way you would have offered that before,” she said. “You’re as closed off as I am. You were.”

“Yeah,” Kady said, “I was. But like I said, that person they put inside me is still there. Do you know what I remember?”

Margo shook her head.

“I remember busting a twelve-year-old kid for heroin possession. I don’t know if he was real. But he cried the whole way to the station, and I could tell how scared he was. I sat him down next to me while my partner called his parents, and he held my hand and kept crying. And he said he did it because his dad always did it, and he wanted his attention, and he didn’t know he wouldn’t be able to stop. He asked me to help him stop.”

Kady paused and looked down at her hands clasped between her knees.

“I wrapped my arm around him and told him it would be okay, but I didn’t really know. I knew we would send him to drug counseling, and I knew it doesn’t always work. I knew we’d have to investigate his dad, take him away if we found anything. He fell asleep on me waiting for his mom to come and hugged me before they took him away.

And the worst part is that it wasn’t unusual. It happened so many times, and I…I had to have a soft heart to do that. I had to believe those kids would get better and lead full lives. So yeah, I was a closed-off person. I still am, I think. But I can’t remember things like that and pretend I don’t want to help people.”

“Jesus,” Margo murmured. “Well, now I feel like a shitty person; all I remember is spitting on people to get what I wanted. I guess I wasn’t all that different no matter which name I was using.”

“My point is,” Kady said, “I’m here for you if you want.”

Margo nodded and tried to wipe tears out of her eyes before Kady could notice. “There aren’t many things I really love,” she said quietly. “Both of those things are people, and now they’re just…gone. If anything happened to them—Fuck, they’ve scared me before, and every single time I lose my mind thinking I’ll have to keep going without them, and I don’t know how. I really don’t. But we were brainwashed for so long, who knows whether they’re okay.”

“See?” Kady smiled softly. “You’re not a shitty person. You just care so much about the people who matter to you that you’d do anything to keep them safe, and when you don’t have those people, you have to keep yourself safe. I get it. What you are is strong.”

“You know, I’m not really sure I like you being able to read into me like this. I think you were better as the broody and silent type.”

Kady laughed and shrugged. “I’m only so good at it because I relate, but I can stop.”

“No,” Margo said, and the corners of her mouth twitched up. “It’s kind of hot in a scary sort of way.” She sighed. “You know, if we’re being totally transparent right now, I…well, I think I kind of had a thing for you. For Sam.”

“When you were Janet.”

“Well…after, too,” Margo said. “And I thought it would be a nonissue once you got your memories back; I mean, we never really talked before, and sure, I thought you were hot and powerful, but I was also pretty sure you didn’t exactly think of me as a friend. Not that I’d blame you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I have feelings for you, all right?” Margo said. “It’s gross; I’m used to sex-only relationships. But something about you just…” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Something about you makes me feel safe. And protected. Cared for.”

Kady stared at her for a moment, and Margo couldn’t place the look in her eyes. Then, she leaned across the carriage aisle and kissed her, balancing herself with her hand on Margo’s knee. It wasn’t anything Margo had ever experienced before; it wasn’t hot and breathy and full of lust and desire. It was meaningful.

Kady pulled away for a moment, as if she hadn’t realized what she was doing, and then they met again in the middle. This was what Margo knew how to do. This was a kiss full of lust and desire, but backed by the previous one, and it made her chest ache with the weight of those feelings.

Maybe, Margo thought, this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe, for once, she could have something real and good, and maybe she could give that to Kady too.

#the magicians #the magicians fic #margo hanson #kady orloff diaz #battleking #my writing

[ohholyfanfics]

High School Crush|Tom Holland

Title: High School Crush

Warning(s): Mentions of drugs, sex, and cheating

Summary: Tom is giving a chance to prove his worth to his high school crush.

A/N: This imagine is actually based on real life events, the dates may not be all accurate, but the plot line is all true. It took me so long to write this and I just hope you guys get a better look into my personal life.

Know this is a long shot but do you by any chance have those cheetah print shoes?’

She starred at her screen in shock before a loud laugh escaped her lips. Shaking her head, she throw her phone into the cup holder as her thumb tapped the stirring wheel to the beat of the song. Her brother looking in her direction as if she’d recently grown three extra heads. Her phone buzzed once more interpreting her favorite song, looking down briefly at her phone seeing his contact him pop up again had her stomach turning with nerves. It wasn’t unusual for him to text her, but the subject he was talking to her about was.

“Who is it?” Will chuckled as he leaned forward gripping the phone in hands before a smirk appeared. “Tom Holland huh?” he questioned as she made a face.

“It’s not like that.” she mumbled taken a turn wishing for this car ride to be over as fast as possible. The last thing she wanted was for her brother to think that an old flame who caused her hell and high water to be tumbling their way back into her life. She was happy, stable and living her best life, the last thing on her mind was wondering what he wanted with her other than the one subject in question.

“But wasn’t it like that?” he shrugged placing her phone back. She shrugged not wanting to get into specific details about what had gone on with the oldest of the Holland’s son. “I mean weren’t you guys a thing at one point?” he pressed on as she slammed on the breaks.

“Will I don’t want to talk about it, you know what went down. We weren’t but were. I called him my boyfriend, he called me his girlfriend but it was never official.” she huffed fixing the sunglasses that were shielding her eyes. “Plus it’s over, he picked her over me remember? I don’t need this bullshit.”

“Well what are you gonna tell him than?” he asked reaching forward and lowering the volume of the song. He couldn’t help the irony of the song that was playing but kept his opinions to himself. Tom was always a touchy subject for his sister and he knew no matter how hard she tired to convince herself she was okay, she wasn’t. She loved the boy and he did his sister wrong.

“I don’t know Will, how about the fucking truth!” she huffed shutting the ignition off and opening her door. “Mãe give the shoes away, ela pensou que era o sapato do Andrew.” she shrugged off quickly typing the text and sending it without a second thought.

|April 2008|

“Come on Tom..” she giggled softly leaning into his side, as his lips broke into a smile. Her hair placed perfectly on the top of her head. Her white uniform shirt looking crisp and perfect, the school logo resting proudly on top where her heart was.

“It’ll be fun!” she giggled before taken his hand and running off towards the field where their friends were waiting them.

Harrison smirked sending a wink in Tom’s direction, only to get him a eye roll in return. Lily stood proudly at the head of the group hanging out paper ties to the boys and little sunflowers from the field to the girls. The sun was blazing above them as the group quickly broke off.

“Why does she get to marry Nick!” Justine huffed obviously her lack of controlling her jealously getting the best of her. Tom watched as Y/N chewed on her lower lip to keep her smirk at bay. He wasn’t even sure why he even agreed on this, his heart pounding rapidly like a butterfly’s wings.

“It’s just how it goes Justine!” Meghan huffed finally speaking out and getting utterly annoyed. The eleven year old was surely done and wanted nothing more than to be over this stupid game.

“Can we just get over it and finish this?” Nick spoke up, his blue eyes squinting from the bright spring sun. Y/N couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips, Tom on the other hand was having a hard time keeping his opinions in.

“Can we just get this shit over with.” he hissed making Lily sigh and send Justine a glare.

“If you have an issue Justine just leave.”

“I won’t leave until I marry Nick!”

Y/N groaned as she threw her sunflowers on the ground and walked up to Tom. Linking their arms together she softly hummed a tone as she began the fake ceremony that eventually ended up in Nick marry Justine instead of Y/N.

|present|

Her hands were sweaty as her grip on her bag tightened, the sudden urge to turn around and head back home overpowering. The large glass doors seeming inhumanly intimidating as she contemplated go back home and telling her brother Tom wasn’t able to help him. She knew it was selfish and her own feelings were getting in the way of helping her brother, but how could she just walk in there and demand to see him.

“Y/N?” she sucked in a breathe turning to face the same blue eyes she had crossed pass with multiple times. A small smile working it’s way onto her lips as she allowed him to embrace her into a hug. “didn’t think you’d show up.” he added as she chuckled feeling less nervous following him through the doors.

“Almost wasn’t.” she laughed nervously as Harrison nodded his head. He knew the history they shared and it wasn’t squeaky clean, in fact he still couldn’t understand how Tom had managed to fuck something up that could’ve been so well.

“He’s excited to see you, been talking about it all week.” he chuckled as she smiled. Her cheeks burning in embarrassment, the cool air blowing from the vents doing nothing to calm the heat that was spreading the closer they got to Tom’s floor.

It was silent not a word being spoken as Harrison led her to Tom’s office. The sleek and modern decor was a perfect fit for Tom. Her heart swelling at how well he had managed to do for himself since graduating high school, he’s working his way up the corporate ladder all while committing himself to school.

“Hey.” Harrison mumbled as they stood outside a door, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Tilting her head to the side she awaited his response.

“Just know that he loves you okay. I know he did a shit job in high school but he really does. He made mistakes, we all make them.”

“His mistakes are a little to hard to forget Harrison don’t forget that.” she mumbled before turning around and softly knocking on the door.

|November 2011|

“Who’s coming tonight?” he asked not once taken his eyes off the screen. His mind racing at the thought of seeing her again, his thoughts going back to the conversation he had with Harrison only hours ago. He knew it was pathetic that he had resulted in befriending her friends in order to see her more.

“Um just the usual people that come.” Ben shrugged going back to the game not giving much thought. He and Tom were friends but they weren’t ever at the statues were they would have hang outs like this, and never in his life did he imagine him spending the night after a small get together like this.

“Who’s the usual again?” Tom asked with a slight chuckle and a rub of the neck. Clearly he was nervous and the last thing he wanted was to let Ben know right away his motives not that they were wrong by any means.

“Sophia, Ben, Y/N, Julia, Ian..” Emily mumbled as she walked into the room with a few bags of chips to place in the plastic bowls. Tom looked up sending her a soft smile. “am I missing anyone?”

“Nope.” Ben mumbled more than ready for his sister to leave and not drop anymore hints. The last thing Ben needed was for Tom finding out about his crush, not that Ben didn’t trust him. He just felt like him and Tom weren’t at that level of trust yet, he liked Tom but wasn’t sure where Tom stood just yet in the group.

“What no comments?” Emily mumbled slightly shocked her brother wasn’t fazed.

“Nope no comments.”

“But y/n’s coming!”

“She’s pretty.” Tom shrugged as the siblings looked over at him with wide eyes. He dropped his controller as he spoke slowly. “I may have a crush on her..”

Emily busted into laughter as she papped him on the shoulder. “Seems like the two of you have started a club.”

|Present|

“So are you and Tom like a thing?” Sophia asked scrolling through her Facebook timeline. She watched as Y/N shrugged her shoulders not knowing what they even were. Since she had reached out to him a couple weeks back about something the two had been exchanging text messages back and forth.

“I don’t know, like the high school me would be freaking out right now.” she huffed laying down and looking up at her best friend who was smiling widely.

“You so had a crush on him!” she laughed as the young girl groaned hiding her embarrassment. “It’s cute, I ship it.” Sophia added with a wink.

“I never said I liked him!” she defended as her best friend gave her a look, sure she might not like him in that sense anymore but it was nice the attention he was giving her.

“What’s he doing now?” Sophia asked placing her phone down. “Like is he still that scrawny skinny boy? Or has he like involved into a man? More mature, less mature? Give me the details!”

“He’s not scrawny looking for sure, he’s a bit more mature. It was weird you know like actually seeing him in person instead of a screen.” she shrugged as Sophia nodded her head.

“Still how’d you two even start talking again. I swear after what happened with Morgan the last thing you want was to be anywhere near him.” she stated as Y/N frowned.

|July 2012|

The feeling started at the bottom of her stomach when the word first got to her, growing slowly every passing day. She didn’t notice it as first and if she did she pretended it wasn’t there. Almost as if the her heart was being punctured by a million tiny pins. The pain when it was there was overpowering, almost a stinging like sanitation, like one of a prick on the finger. Slowly increasing over time and soon become numb.

She wanted so badly to forget everything she was hearing, to believe that it was different. It’s different this time, she would mumble to herself whenever the passing thoughts creeped into her head.

We aren’t like that, was another thing she would mumble. She felt breathless almost as if she was running away from a ghost, but she wasn’t. She was running from him, running from the truth. It was becoming exhausting to go on this way, never know when it started and when it ended. She did know one this though, he had broken her and she wasn’t sure how she could be put back to together.

“Do you want to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Y/N-“

“You know what it feels like?” She mumbled breathlessly, her friends eyes widen hearing her horse voice. “Kinda feelings like you have fallen into a cactus. It’s needles puncturing your heart a million times over. It’s that feeling that starts at the bottom of your stomach and grows each passing day.”

“You can do better, so much better.”

“Can I do?”

|present|

“Saw Y/N this morning.” Harrison spoke casually testing the waters of the topic. He knew it was sensitive since the whole thing had came crumbling down his junior year. He watched as the brown eyed man nodded his head taken a sip of his whiskey as her image came to mind.

“God she looks amazing Harrison.” he mumbled placing the cup down on the counter before him. “Did you know she has a degree in international business and she’s working on getting her PhD..” he mumbled.

“I knew about the PhD not the business part.” he mumbled, he knew y/n was doing well for herself. The last he knew about her she was finishing up her masters in business and was dating some lad by the name of Andrew. Of course he won’t be the one to tell Tom that information.

“She’s amazing.” he sighed swirling the liquid around, his heart heavy.

“God I really fucked up didn’t I?” he mumbled.

“Come on mate don’t be like that..”

“But I did, if only I kept it in my pants for once I might be getting ready to walk down the aisle with the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“Tom everyone makes mistakes.”

“Well she made it clear mine was one she could never be able to forgive.”

|September 2013|

“So what that’s it?” she mumbled softly looking down at him on his hospital bed. The anger radiating off of her in waves. His pain no longer important as he watched the tears he caused flow down her cheeks for the second time. The tears he was to blame for something so stupid and idiotic he doesn’t know if they’ll ever get a chance of real happiness.

“Bab-“

“No Tom no, don’t call me that. I’m not your anything and you made that clear!” she shouted as his head was starting to hurt and his heart beat increasing. “You made it crystal clear the moment you slept with her again!”

“It wasn’t like that!” he begged, his lungs were failing as the burns on his body were rubbing up against the bandages. His eyes swelling in tears as he watched the girl he loved shake her head. “Please don’t leave.”

“You left me a long time ago Thomas.” she spat looking back at him. The guilt she had of seeing him on his deathbed no longer there, he had hurt her beyond compare to anything in this world. She couldn’t believe she had been so blind the first time in believe what he said, that it was a joke, but this was the last straw.

“to-“

“Unbelievable.” she chuckled taken a look at the now slightly opened door. The last person on earth she wanted to see besides Tom stood there with wide eyes as she watched the scene before her. “Have a nice fucking life and don’t ever talk to me again you piece of shit!” She mumbled pushing past the other girl as she stumbled.

|Present|

“Why now Tom?” she mumbled softly fingers tracing the light gray etched on the table. Her heart beating uncontrollably fast as her eyes started to tear.

“Because I love you.” he mumbled softly as she inhaled a shaker breath. It was all too much sitting there and hearing him speak the words she would’ve dream of hearing three years back. “I know what I did was unforgivable I don’t want you to take this as me trying to win you back. I want you to understand that I’m sorry, that I wasn’t fair to you. I should’ve loved you when I had the chance.” he mumbled his own heart breaking.

“I know what I did was fucked up, fuck I don’t even know why I did it. Maybe it was the fact that I heard you were hanging out with Mike? Or the fact that Josh was always talking about you in the locker room. You were mine, well you were suppose to be anyways and I threw that chance away. I threw it all away for some quick fix that never filled the space, for someone who never made me feel like half the man I felt when I was with you. By the time I opened my eyes it was too late, senior year was over and you were with Mike. But fuck when I saw you at prom with him? God that killed me, do you know how happy I was when Grant told me you were sitting at our table?” He questioned with a little laugh as you nodded your head.

“You took the seat beside me, you looked good.” she mumbled softly as he nodded his head. “You asked if you could come over with the rest of the group.”

“God I was so shocked when you said I could join everyone. Fuck, and when you took the spot next to me when you obviously could’ve stayed next to Grant or anyone else. I remember texting Harrison that morning about how I got to spend the night at your place, you or felt somewhat normal.” he chuckled as she smiled nodding her head. “Why did you stop talking to me than? It was going so well why did you stop?”

“You were still with her Tom, I told you I wasn’t going to get in the middle of that.”

“There was nothing to get in the middle of, there is nothing to get in the middle of!” he mumbled the same heartbreak he felt years ago coming back ten times fold. “Why can’t you believe that.”

“Because it’s hard to believe anything you say anymore.”

“What do I have to do to get your trust back.”

“You need to prove to me that it’s over, that whatever you had with her is over Tom. Eu não consigo amar pela a metade. It’s all or nothing Tom.”

“Than have all of it, all of me! I don’t want you to avoid me, avoid my name. I need you in life.”

“I want someone que vai me amr de verdade.”

“Give me the chance and I will be that person, stop with this back and worth. Fuck I’m not perfect but I love you. God do I fucking love you, whatever you want I’ll do it.”

“I want you, all strings attached Tom, no oneone else. No more games and not giving us a title it’s my way or now way right now.”

Smiling softly he stood up grabbing her hand and pressing a soft kiss onto her lips. “Whatever you want as along as you’re mine.”

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