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chaoticevilbean · 3 years

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Another Star Wars AU, TBN*

*To-Be-Named

I love time travel. A lot. So here is a time-travel au, with the CW trio.

Somehow, perhaps by touching a Sith artifact, perhaps by the Force deciding they should, perhaps from some sort of weird ritual the locals were performing that the trio didn't know about, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Anakin, Rex, and Cody travel aback in time.

[Please keep in mind that Canon Timeline has died tragically in a fire, and I am but the weeping widow with an inheritance.]

Due to whatever happened, they all also end up (technically) deaging. They still have their memories and their knowledge and skills, just stuck in smaller bodies. They can think and act like adults, but they also have to struggle a bit more to implement Older Skills in Younger Bodies.

Ahsoka is 2. She's nubby. She's emotional. She's tired and sore from her deaging.

She wakes up in someone's office. She's in a spinny chair, a big one with leather padding. It's kind-of chilly in the room.

She's not thinking, because all her brain is putting together is that she's still tired. She grabs the jacket off the back of the chair and pulls it over herself. She goes back to sleep.

Rex and Cody wake up together.

They are their actual age, which is to say they're both about eleven.

They find themselves on Mandalore. In the more wild areas.

(let me believe that there are parts of the planet that aren't covered in city)

(also, this is the Mandalore in the cartoons)

They find a teen trying to wake them both up. Rex has absolutely no clue what's going on. Cody has a vague idea, because this girl looks very similar to a picture he once saw...

Obi-Wan does not fare as well. He is 3.

He wakes up in someone's arms. He's just as tired and sore as the other three. However, he's also got more awareness because he's in someone's arms.

He looks up to see who's carrying him.

He looks around at the people walking with them.

He starts crying. He cannot help this, as he is suddenly flooded with Emotions, and he is Smol. Smol = harder to handle Emotions.

Because Qui-Gon is walking right next to him, tapping away on a holopad as they go. Dooku is on his other side, on a comm call where both parties sound very tired.

And Obi-Wan is being held... by Obi-Wan.

So, yeah, not that great for a suddenly Smol Obi.

Now, Anakin is 8, so he's better off in that perspective.

But he wakes up on some remote planet without anyone around. He just was in the middle of a group, so he ends up kinda panicking.

Then he hears something coming towards him, and he panics more.

He's Tiny! He's Smol! He's massively at a disadvantage against attacks! He can't fight off whatever is on a planet like this!

It's Mace (and Depa).

Anakin, however, doesn't realize this. He has gone Feral.

Back to the beginning

Jango Fett has been very busy w/Important Mand'alor Paperwork all day. He finally has time to go and relax a little, and he makes it all the way down to the exit before he realizes:

It is really cold outside. He is not in armor bc he was planning to only do paperwork today (though he still has many weapons). When one plans to stay in the same room for almost the entire day, one does not wear normal garb.

That said, he has no protection from the cold. He forgot his jacket upstairs. He rushes back up to his office.

He distinctly remembers that he left the jacket on the back of his chair, not on the seat.

He also is wondering what that lump is.

He arms himself, grabs some of his "emergency" armor plating, and walks over to the chair.

He lifts his jacket up, expecting a bomb or some paperwork that fell off the desk, or something logical.

He does not expect to find a tiny Togruta child clinging onto the fabric, whining as they're woken up by his yanking of the jacket.

Jango's brain stutters for a moment, then he kicks into action.

First things first, he wraps the jacket around the Togruta. They thankfully stay asleep. Then he turns up the heat, because he knows the office has gotten colder in the twenty minutes or so he's been gone, and Togruta are from warm temperate zones.

He decides to call, in this order, a guard who can help him watch the Togruta (they did break in, after all), a medic to check the Togruta’s health, and the first person he can find in his contacts that might know an adult Togruta.

Next group

Rex and Cody manage to get the teen to stop fussing over them for long enough to ask for her name.

Her, clearly lying, but that’s understandable: My name is Ine.

Cody, who knows exactly who this is now: Oh, kriff. You’re Duchess Satine, aren’t you? Kriff.

Rex: Wait, Satine? As in the General’s Satine?

Satine, now very suspicious and reaching for her stunner: I think you need proper medical attention.

Cody, looking down at their eleven-year-old selves: Yeah, I think so, too.

They agree on one thing, at least.

Obi-Wan is crying. Loudly, uncontrollably, w/too many Emotions to even care that he’s supposed to be an adult rn.

Other Obi-Wan is very uncomfortable, bc he doesn’t know how to handle children too well.

They found this kid unconscious in the middle of a ruined, abandoned town.

Obi-Wan was meant to hold this kid while Qui-Gon did research and Master Dooku tried to convince the Council that it was entirely necessary to bring the kid back to Coruscant. Granted, they can still give the child to the locals at any time before they make it back to their ship, but apparently the Force is Being Loud.

The Force was Being Loud when it told Master Dooku to come along.

The Force was Being Loud when it led them to that town.

Qui-Gon and Dooku have argued fifteen and a half times on this mission, and an additional six times on the flight here. Obi-Wan is trying to mediate but also doesn’t want to overstep. The Force is Being Loud, sure, but the kid is also Force-sensitive so it might be something off that.

He didn’t argue with holding the kid bc he thought that it was better than being caught between the Masters.

Holding a crying child and trying to get two adults to stop arguing bc they can’t decide how to comfort the kid is not better.

Obi-Wan keeps walking past them to the ship with this baby. He does what he’s seen some crechemasters do to the younglings. The kid eventually calms a little, and he belatedly realizes that both Masters are still behind him, not with him.

Anakin is panakin.

He is currently in a state of Feralness. His instincts have kicked into overdrive, full-on Survival Mode.

Depa and Mace do not know this. All they know is that there was suddenly an extremely powerful Force presence that started fading quickly (bc Anakin started shielding).

They burst into sight of Anakin and are suddenly attacked by all four feet and some of Feral Force Child.

It’s all they can do for a good minute or so to avoid losing their fingers, eyes, or untorn clothes.

Mace puts a few things together very quickly.

This planet is uninhabited by any sapient life. Therefore, this child is utterly alone. This child also is clearly strong in the Force, and knows how to hide their presence, for whatever reasons. Mace is a Jedi, and therefore is bound by certain duties.

He decides it is his Duty to get this kid back to Coruscant safely.

Back to the beginning

Ahsoka wakes up to find a familiar face looking down at her. She’s still tired, but not as much. She’s very aware of her size, and does a few quick observations.

She does not fully know who Jango Fett is. She does know that some clones run off bc they hate war and weren’t given a choice an- no. Not going down that path yet.

Ahsoka assumes, semi-incorrectly, that she was shrunk or deaged and somehow found by a rogue clone.

She knows it’s a rogue clone bc they’ve got weird armor.

So she does the logical thing and tries to comfort this clone bc he looks really worried and kinda panicked. She stands up on the spinny chair and tries to balance and he practically lunges to help her and she can’t help but giggle, but it comes out in a bunch of chirps instead.

The clone picks her up and looks really awkward so she pats his face bc that’s the best she can do bc she doesn’t want to disprove the fact she’s two yet.

For all she knows, this rogue clone has no idea she’s actually a Commander in the GAR.

He doesn’t, but for different reasons than she thinks.

Rex and Cody go with Satine to the city. They have introduced themselves and said that they were separated from their aliit. They don't know where said aliit is.

Satine is highly suspicious by this point, bc these two kids recognized her with only part of her name, and they were alone, and they speak Basic with Mando'a thrown in.

Basically, she thinks that they're children of people like Death Watch, but she's too young to know that Death Watch isn't really into children.

Rex and Cody get checked over by a medic, but also start trying to get access to some working comms. They are refused on account of being suspicious children (which makes them a little upset bc they're not children)(Well, they are, but not those types of children)

They have not yet figured out that they are in the past, bc Cody and Rex only know that General Kenobi talks about Duchess Satine, and they know about Padme Amidala from General Skywalker, so clearly this Duchess is really young and the General simply viewed her as someone he wants to protect.

They are very very very wrong.

Obi-Wan manages to calm himself somewhat now that it's just him and... him.

He is three, and he knows roughly what's happening, so he knows he should probably act like a 3yo.

Unfortunately, he has very little understanding of how child ages work. 3 is smart enough to go up the stairs and communicate with adults, but def. not old enough to speak sentences that are 15 words long with at least 2 5-syllable words.

Fortunately, his older (younger?) self doesn't know children either.

So when this 3yo starts telling him that he needs to leave the two Masters on the planet and head to Tatooine really fast, Obi-Wan is more concerned about the idea than the strangeness of "this is a 3yo suggesting this".

Obi-Wan is really good at convincing people. Including himself. He manages to get Padawan Kenobi to leave supplies where the ship is supposed to be and head towards Tatooine.

He says that the Masters will be fine, they know how to survive, and they need to be alone together in order to work through all the tension. Plus, it gives them plenty of time to talk to the Council.

Toddler Kenobi also tells himself that he'll take the blow and say he used a mind-trick.

Padawan Kenobi doesn't believe him yet, but Toddler Kenobi smiles like a very smug adult and says "you'll get there eventually". What he truly means is up in the air.

Anakin, since waking up, knows much less than everyone else. Which is saying something.

He knows he's Smol. He knows he's Alone. He knows Someone has come and they are Strangers.

One thing about Anakin's instincts is that they are very much Survival Based. He was Feral when he joined the Jedi, only he had to hold those instincts back for most of his life bc of being a slave.

A slave cannot bite someone who approaches and Vibes Wrong.

By the time he felt okay with being Feral Out Loud, he also felt safe enough that he didn't need to activate his Survival Mode.

What I'm trying to say is that Anakin does not realize how strong his Feral Instincts are. He has absolutely no control over them rn.

When Mace decides to Help this child, this child is trying to Maul them.

Mace makes a small ruckus to draw Anakin's attention to him so Depa can move back. Depa pulls out her saber now that she won't hit the kid. The kid notices Purple and Bright and Lightsaber.

Lorge Jedi Mind says this is Good. Safe. Jedi.

Smol Feral Brain says this is Dangerous. Mean.

Anakin freezes on sight and just starts tracking Depa's saber. She does one of those things where a snake or something is focused and the person waves the fire or the food slowly to make sure the wolf is watching it and usually they toss the thing away so the snake follows it.

Mace instead takes this opportunity to wrap Anakin in his cloak. And Depa's cloak. And the spare ones in their bags.

Feral Child is not happy with this. Feral Child is also unable to scratch or Maul or do things other than bite and snarl.

Depa carries Feral Child while Mace comms the Temple and they walk back to their ship.

The Temple is having a field day.

First, one of their Shadows reports that a well-known bounty hunter got an emergency message from a pal of theirs that said Jango Fett needs help learning Togruta childcare.

Then they get a call from Dooku, which is not the mission report they wanted.

Yoda: Mission report, you have?

Dooku: Of a sort. We successfully spoke with the locals, then went to investigate a rather large disturbance.

Mundi: A disturbance?

Dooku: We found the source to be a Force-sensitive child.

Mundi: So you are here to ask for more time on the planet?

Dooku:...

Yoda: Bring the child back, you wish to?

Dooku, unapologetic: He is of an acceptable age to be admitted into the Temple, and no other beings were around at the time to entertain the idea of there being guardians.

The Council is sighing and muttering bc this is a Disaster Lineage (and they haven't even met the other two yet). Their call is interrupted by the sound of crying and Dooku saying the child's woken up.

Then there's another Shadow who sends a message saying a set of twins that seem like Death Watch were found by the heir of Clan Kryze.

Finally, to top everything off, they get a call from Mace Windu and Depa Billaba. Two very dignified, not-at-all chaotic Jedi from a perfectly respectable lineage.

Yeah, most of the Council and the Order itself forgets that Yoda had a hand in raising Windu. Yoda "Feral Grandpa" who throws children at every problem. Grandson isn't doing too well? Throw a child his way. Other grandchild is struggling to cope with grief? Throw another child their way. Oh, there's a war going on and newest grandchild is angry a lot? Here's a child!

The entire lineage has a soft spot for children.

Anyways...

Mace: Our mission was a success. We found the artifact and both specimens.

Koth: How long until your return?

Mace:...

Yoda: Found a child, you did?

Gallia: Master Yoda, that's a rather illogical guess. Once is unusual, twice is-

Mace: Oh, did Qui-Gon find a child as well?

Yoda, smugly: Bringing the child back, are you?

Depa, from the background, after a rather loud snarl is heard: We do not bite things, young one.

*more snarling*

Mace: We have no reason to believe he was not alone.

Tiin: *deep sighing*

Mundi: *mild confusion noises*

Koon, eagerly: Please send photos of this youngling. For the archives, of course.

Mace, nodding sagely: Of course.

*extremely loud yowl* *sounds of Mace turning*

Mace: DEPA!

Depa: He nearly bit off my finger!

Mace: That doesn’t mean you pinch him!

Depa: What else am I supposed to do?!

*sudden exclamation filled solely of Mando’a, Huttese and Twi’leki curses*

Mace: So, I don’t know if he speaks Basic, but Master Che should be able to talk him through a check-up.

Yeah, several Council members are experiencing headaches now. Normally, they would have some empathy for Mace and his own stress-induced migraines. They currently do not.

Right after that call, Dooku calls back to say that Obi-Wan has left without them.

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Dooku:

Mundi: He left the child with you, right?

Obi-Wan did not leave himself with the Masters. Obi-Wan has listened to Mini-Obi and is off on some wild space adventure to a criminal-run planet.

The toddler won’t stop staring at him. He asks for a name. The kid says to call him Ben.

OW: Is that your name?

“Ben”: It is a name I am called :)

OW: That isn’t what I meant.

“Ben”: I know :)

Ben also keeps staring at OW’s lightsaber. OW decides to make sure the kid doesn’t start playing with it when he isn’t looking.

MEANWHILE

Ahsoka has figured out that she was really very oh-so wrong. She’s on Mandalore. As in, the Mandalore that is under Jango Fett. Bc she’s with Jango Fett. He’s holding her hand bc she was nervous about the strange looking medic (who was just wearing armor, but not clone armor and civies don’t wear armor.)

Ahsoka knows very little about Jango Fett. Clone Buir, Mandalorian leader, tried to kill Master Kenobi. Also dead.

He asks how she got in. She shrugs. She is too small to fight back so she can’t let him know anything. Whatever everything is right now. But also, he doesn’t seem mean or evil or anything.

Oh yeah. Skyguy said that Mandos love children. That's why the clones were so protective of her, even with Skyguy on her side of the argument.

She decides to use this to her advantage. She can probably get herself a comm, and enough time to call the Temple. If she can convince them she at least knows a Jedi, then they can come get her and she'll work from there.

ELSEWHERE

Rex and Cody are getting really upset. This Duchess is really nice, but she's acting really weird and keeps insisting she's not actually called Duchess. No one will give them a comm, they keep getting weird looks for speaking Mando'a even though they're on Mandalore, and Satine's father keeps mentioning a Fett. Maybe Boba's set a bad example again.

Rex starts to fall asleep, to his chagrin. He's too bored, sitting and getting some abnormally extensive check-up. Cody is fine, but he's used to the calm that is General Kenobi. Rex usually has a Togruta teen in the vents and a Human that is never where he's supposed to be.

Rex does, in fact, fall asleep. His "twin" starts glaring when a doctor goes to wake him up. Cody makes it clear that his brother is like Cat: once asleep, you do not wake.

Satine is giggling, but trying not to let the others hear. Cody does. Cody looks at her. They have a stare-off.

Cody goes back to glaring at the doctors. He will not admit to any emotions besides Protect™.

BACK TO

Obi-Wan and Ben have made it to Tatooine.

#star wars #star wars fic #another star wars au #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #kote fett #cody fett #rex fett #cody #rex #ahsoka tano #disaster lineage #mace windu #depa billaba #jango fett #duchess satine #time travel #deaging

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bluebellhairpin · 3 years

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( Notice: OKAY - The pic there says ‘The Hobbit/LOTR’ but for times sake, and my own sanity, there is none listed thus-far (same goes for the ‘other’ category’). Merci for understanding! )

So I’ve been meaning to do this for a while, and I already have a blog for it ( @nemosrepost ) but that doesn’t get too much attention. Thus, here we are!

(This was a nightmare to get done - it took weeks to get all the links and pics done up in my spare time - I hope you appreciate that.)

They’re all sorts here, from Medieval Marvel AU’S, to Modern Attack on Titan one shots. They’re all organised via fandom, and I’ve tried my best to link and tag everything properly, but that is a difficult feat, so beware - for some it may not have worked too well.

Like my *actual* masterlist, this will be updated regularly with new fic recs, and even new characters and fandoms as I read them. All fic’s currently listed (as of November 26, 2020) are found on my reblog account.

I’ve also tried to add in a ‘recommendation summary’ thing of each - so basically just my thoughts on the fic(s). But anyway, have fun browsing, and overall - enjoy!

(AND also - LMAOOOO - Have fun scrolling lololololol!) - Nemo

( Pre - Warning: I am not tagging anything as NSWF, 18+, or triggering content. However some fics listed do contain such material. Please refer to the warnings or Authors Notes on each Fic before reading. Stay safe guys! I love you! )

Bluebellhairpin’s Masterlist

Bucky Barnes

Knight in Rusty Armour - Medieval / A/B/O AU! Series - by @revengingbarnes Honestly I binged the first eight chapters (+ prologue) in close to one sitting. That was mostly because that was all that was published at the time. It is completed now. I love both these AU’s, and I love Bucky - win, win!

Flowers Bloom - Soulmate AU! Series - by revengingbarnes Another great series, and honestly I’m a slut for soulmate au’s, so this author might be coming after my heart - keep up that good work, if you know what I mean.

The Great Build Up - Modern / Firefighter Au! One Shot - by @thottybarnes This ones goes from cute, to hot and steamy, to angsty, and back to cute again. A one shot rollercoaster, and I thoroughly enjoyed every word of it.

Maybe This Time - Mob Au! One Shot - by @propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, so if there’s one thing I like more than an mobster au, it’s adding children into the mix. Something about big bad guys going all soft for this tiny human - and then making them - and that’s called perfection.

Whatever It Takes - Biker AU! One Shot - by @sgtjbuccky He like’s to be loud, so what. He rides a bike, so what. I what to ride him and his bike, so what.

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @softlybarnes I’ve never liked Bucky’s metal arm more in my entire life. Using it for a baby going through teething? A+ idea.

Hero, Waiting - Medieval AU! One Shot - by captain-ariel-barnes Sadly, this fic is unavailable now, and that - obviously - makes me sad. But I’m adding it her anyway because of how much I adored it. The love triangle between Bucky, Reader, and Steve was amazing, and the feelings? Phenomenal.

Steve Rogers

If Walls Could Talk - One Shot - by propertyofpoeandbucky I’ll recreate my original comment on this fic - ‘Ouch’. And that’s all I have to say about that.

The End of the War - College AU! One Shot - by @redgillan There’s nothing quite like a enemies to lovers trope that’s well-written. But then throw in fight club, a jerk date, ice-cream and pizza - just read it. You’ll understand then.

The Edge of the Water - Mermaid AU! Series - @floatingpetals I have to admit now, I haven’t read all of this yet. But I also have to say, what I have read was fantastic. Mermaids - and Mermen - they just hit different, you know?

Pseudo Princess - Medieval AU! Series - by @shreddedparchment To date, it’s one of the best fics - nay - stories I’ve ever read. I’d dare to say it’s easily the length of a novel, so if you’re up for the long haul, I’d definitely recommend it. It’s worth the wait - trust me. Op obviously put a hella lot of work into it, and it shows.

Loki Laufeyson

Loki’s Happy Ending - Series (?) - by @gingerwritess Listen, I have been and forever will be a Loki girl. Nothing will change that. And every scrap of content Theo produces for Loki I will cradle in my palms and keep warm until they’re ready to go out into the world or whatever - point is, read this.

Just One Quick Glance - One Shot - by @imagines-trashcan After watching ‘Endgame’, and squealing at every moment Loki appeared on screen, only to not have him show up in the final battle - this was one of my comfort fics.

thunderstorms. - One Shot - by @tarynkauai Naturally, Loki’s child would inherit his unease of thunderstorms. And naturally, seeing Loki as a dad makes me happy.

Stitches - One Shot - by @lokibug Loki being nice. I like that. We stan.

Quentin Beck

The Curveball - One Shot - by @healingchurch Listen, this is on here for a reason. I didn’t really like Mysterio ‘cause of what he did to Peter, but hey, some people are good actors, and some write characters acting very well.

Stephen Strange

(Un-Named) - Imagine / One Shot - by @archieimagines A cocky bastard and a shy Reader, as far as I’m concerned that a one-way ticket straight to my heart. *wink wonk*.

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @whirlybirbs Honestly, there are multiple fics of hers on this list, and that’s because she’s a damn fine writer, and her stories are just that addictive. This one is no different. I was preparing to read more and then it ended. But all good things, right?

Crash and Burn - One Shot - by @lilyswritings The angst, and the angst. I cry, you cry, everyone cries. Unfortunately there is only the one part, but much to my personal joy that means I can interpret the after-ending however I want!

Frank Castle

(Un-Named) - One Shot - by @alexsunmners This is just cute okay? I have no other words except this was plain and simply very, very, very nice to read, and that it makes me feel very soft right here on the inside.

Peter Parker

Super Smooth Genius - One Shot (?) - by whirlybirbs Back at it again with the cute, awkward, friendly, neighbourhood, Peter Parker.

Just Don’t - Soulmate AU! One Shot - by @papel-creativo What’d I tell you about soulmate au’s? I can’t resist them. And of course Pete being a caring bf with his hero s/o. So nice.

Ronan the Accuser

Make You Proud - One Shot - by @kayleighhalliday2203 This is justifiable because I was going through a Lee Pace faze and I found it and loved it immediately.

Ultron

(Un-Named) - One Shot / Series - by @snarky-badger This I can also justify having read, because (and if you know me then you know) the robot thing ... Doesn’t bother me as much as it should. And I binged all of it on ao3, so.

Poe Dameron

(Un-Named) - Masterlist - by propertyofpoeandbucky Okay, I know there’s a lot on this list, and it could take you a while to get through it all, but trust me - it’s worth it. Lani likes Poe, and it shows. He’s written so well.

Dashing - One Shot / Series ? - by whirlybirbs Birbs does it again. She’s got Punchy!Reader, and if there were a legal way to get all of this Poe thing down into a written book, I’d do it.

You Can See Me? - Modern / Ghost AU! One Shot - by @tintinwrites I just this this one’s really cool. And what Poe does for the reader at the end? So sweet! He would totally do that!

Across the Hall - Modern / Nurse AU! Series - by @starryeyedstories It’s cute, it’s fun, it’s got tension, and a little drama - plus a smidge of angst and Corgi!BB-8. If perfection were ever made into a Modern/Nurse au Poe fic - this would be it.

Deepest, Lightest Secrets - One Shot - by @writefightandflightclub It’s got the humour and overall feel you’d expect to come from something Star Wars related - honestly I had so much fun reading it, and I’ll happily do it again.

Levi Ackerman

Names for Him & You - One Shot - by @commanderserwin Again, op is one of my main sources for fic’s in this area - so there could be quite a few of them listed here. But this one? Cute as heck.

Levi’s Secret - Modern AU! One Shot - by @theamberwriter This one was damn funny in my opinion. Nothing can ever be hidden from Hange for long.

You Look So Beautiful In White - Modern AU! One Shot - by @alrightberries This fic, it carved out my heart, diced it, shoved it in a blender, then made it into an atomic bomb. I - I was not okay. That amount of angst shouldn’t be allowed. Read it.

Abeille - Modern / Mafia AU! Series - by @ackermans-freedom-inc Honestly, this isn’t finished yet but, honestly, I’m not ready for it to finish. The heartache. The betrayal. The child. I can’t even.

Lights - Modern AU! One Shot - by commanderserwin This was the first fic I ever read of op’s, and I couldn’t believe what I read so I went back and read it again. I can’t tell you how much I love it, or how I feel about it, so just go read for yourself and you’ll know.

To Build a Home - Modern AU! Series - by @vennilavee If you’re a fan of Levi, you must go read this. It’s so detailed, and just so perfect - whenever a new part comes out I have a quick reboot before going to read it.

Erwin Smith

One of Us - Modern AU! Miniseries - by commanderserwin I’m not going to lie, this one is here because I requested it, but also because I really liked it, and cried while reading it. So there.

Reiner Braun

Service to the Crown - Medieval AU! Miniseries - by @present-mel It should probably be illegal to write Reiner or Medieval au’s this well, and yet here op is writing both. Like, McScuse me, where do you acquire such talent and can I have some?

Toshinori Yagi

Flirting with All Might - One Shot - by @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten Toshi. The great. The hero. The awkward. He’s a blond boy doing what blond boys do even if he’s a little older he’s still part of the crew.

Stitches - Villain AU / Mini Series - by @itsallmightbitch Okay, so I said above that I wouldn’t put warnings on these - but this time I have to. Nothing I’ve read in my whole life emmits such an amount of pure horniness - and I love it.

Godless - Fantasy AU / One Shot - by @pleasantanathema Another ‘All Smite’ fic, yes, I know. But god. They’re so good. This one is another real horny one, so if you can’t tell there is a slight theme running here. And - sksksksks - this is actually from the same ‘general area’ as the Reiner fic listed above (Service to the Crown). There was a event. I read everything.

Keigo Takami

Preening - One Shot - by @shoutaaizawas Literally the softest and cutest damned thing I’ve read for Keigo. No, I’m not just ‘saying’ that, it’s genuine. The feelings I get - or lack thereof due to them turning to mush - it too much for words. Honest.

Seasonal Special - One Shot - by @keiqos I’ll say this now and I’ll say it first - any Hawks fics written by op are *chefs kiss*. They’re amazing. Secondly, rut!Hawks is my weakness - this fic is one of such weaknesses.

Shouto Aizawa

(Un-Named) - Series - by @theamberwriter This is *technically* the second part in the series, but it’s the only part I’ve read and goddamnit, I’m in love. Hubby Aizawa. The disappearing Baby-Zawa.

I Miss You Texts - SMAU - Kuroo Tetsurou, Bokuto Koutarou, Nishinoya Yuu - by @briswriting I miss them too. They ain’t dead. I just feel like I haven’t seen them in so long.

Little Things - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @haikyuudreaming Every single one makes me feel so nostalgic, and I feel so much longing. I love. I loose. I pine. I want. And yet I cannot have. I only dream.

Cheerleader - Headcanons - Karasuno - by @imagine-101 I want to be their cheerleader. Now I am able to be. Op, many thanks for the feeding.

Tsukishima Kei

Cherry Wine - Single Parent AU! Series - by @bakugou-jpg I’m gonna head out and say that Tsukki was my first favourite Haikyuu character - then I ‘character developed’ but that only went so far as to give me more favorites. But deadass - read this and you won't regret it.

Ukai Keishin

(Un-Named) - Ballroom/Latin Dancer AU! Headcanons - by @imagine-that-haikyuu I know nothing about dancing. Or ballroom dancing. But I do know I’d love to dance with Ukai. So how’s that for ‘middle ground’?

#fic rec #masterlist #marvel x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #quentin beck x reader #stephen strange x reader #frank castle x reader #peter parker x reader #ronan x reader #ultron x reader #poe dameron x reader #levi ackerman x reader #erwin smith x reader #reiner braun x reader #karasuno x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #ukai keishin x reader

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epiphany-of-a-madwoman · 4 years

Text

Daylight | Edward Cullen x Stark!OC

Chapter 1 | Hard Time Adjusting

"You gotta step into the daylight and let it go"

Summary: Delphina Stark, to be frank, is tired. After the events of the Accords are done and half of the Avengers are now considered fugitives, she moves from bustling New York to live with her mom in Forks, Washington. Wielding a sarcastic attitude and crippling self-deprecating humor, she somehow gets wrapped up in the supernatural world.

Word Count: ~4k

Note: Click here for the Masterlist for this series ♡ || Link for my tag list in my Bio ♡

Cold and rain, something so typical of this place, yet Delphina can’t help but scowl as she stares out the car window. The lush green trees from the forest that surround them zip past them, becoming nothing but blurs in shades of green and brown. Her forehead rests against the cool glass, the window fogging up wherever her warm breath hits. If she was seven years old, she’d excitedly draw little pictures on the window, writing witty things that only she laughed at, but she’s not seven anymore. Instead of bouncing in her seat, talking animatedly about everything to anyone who listens, she just sits in the car, barely moving an inch, as silent as a statue. Quiet music pours from the sterosystem of the car, an acoustic guitar and a smooth male voice easing the silence. Occasionally her mom sings along, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel to the beat of the song.

Delphina looks over at her, taking in her brown hair that’s been cut to her shoulders. Her eyes trace over her mom’s pale complection, a stark contrast to Delphina’s sunkissed skin. Her brown eyes focus on the road in front of them, a small smile resting on her lips. Her gaze moves back to the window, a small sigh leaving her mouth, creating a large cloud of fog on the glass.

Forks, Washington; easily one of the dreariest places Delphina has had the privilege of visiting. Rain always pours from the sky, threatening to drown the town and sweep it away until it’s nothing more than Atlantis. On the off chance the rain ceases, a thick overcast covers the sky, blocking out any chance of sunlight shining down on the city, bathing everything in it’s warm glow. And on the especially rare days where there is no rain but only clear skies, blue is tinged with grey and the sun is dim, not as bright as the summer days in New York. The town is small, with a population of only around 3,000 people, which means the high school can only have one hundred students, two hundred tops.

“School starts tomorrow. Are you excited?” her mom, Anna asks from the driver’s side of the car. It’s been two hours since the plane hit Seattle, an hour of that time spent in the car. They didn’t exchange anything more than small talk and pleasantries in the airport, Delphina too lost in her own little world, dreaming of grand adventures far from here.

“About as excited as I’ll ever be,” she mutters, taking a sip of her soda. It’s awkward and tense, Delphina not having anything to say and her mom not knowing what to say. It feels like a lifetime since Delphina last visited, wearing two pigtails and bright summer dresses she’d inevitably ruin, only ten and causing a storm. But she doesn’t wear pigtails anymore, nor overly bright summer dresses she’d ruin, but still causes a storm everywhere she goes.

“What classes are you excited for?” she continues to prod, either not realizing how disconnected her daughter is or maybe she did and doesn’t care.

“The one with the books and the paper. Don’t even get me started on the ones involving pens and pencils. I’m getting giddy just thinking about it,” she says. A sardonic smile forms on Delphina’s face as her eyes continue to trace random shapes in the green-blue sky. Her mom reaches across the dash and smacks her arm lightly, the sound off beat with the music playing.

“Don’t get smart with me, young lady.”

“Can’t help it, have you met my dad?” Delphina replies.

“Unfortunately.” her mom replies while rolling her eyes. Delphina simply snorts but says nothing else.

“You were the one that procreated with him,” she mutters, glancing at her mom from the corner of her eyes.

“Yeah and now I’ve got to deal with you,” Anna says, a smile creeping onto her lips that are painted a soft pink.

“Lucky you.”

The silence surrounds them for a few moments, the sound of rain pattering against the car piercing through it. Delphina slips her hand into the pocket of her sweatshirt, feeling the smooth surface of the flip phone. She runs her finger over its smooth surface, feeling the indent from glass to plastic. And it’s comforting, knowing Nat is only a phone call away, ready to swoop in if Delphina needs her. But more than that, it’s a piece of her home as she’s being thrown into the wolf den.

“You’re hair’s blonde,” her mom says, glancing at her briefly before returning her gaze to the winding road. Delphina touches the tips of her bleached hair, a light silver that she decided on after the abysmal mess Season 8 of Game of Thrones ended up being.

“Yeah, thought it’d look better,” Delphina says, dropping the strands of hair, watching as they limply fell, lying past her shoulders. She remembers lounging out in the main room, watching Game of Thrones with the TV on full blast, if only for the stern reprimanding she knew Steve would give her. And whenever he was on Earth, Thor would sit on one of the couches, enthusiastically watching it with her, despite not knowing what was happening. He’d cheer when Delphina did and get mad with her, even if he didn’t know why he should be upset when Daenerys burned King’s Landing.

The rest of the car ride is spent in silence, the minutes dragging on until they reach the house, her new house. When they stop in the driveway, her mom turns off the car and the two of them get out and begin the slow process of unloading the things Delphina brought onto the plane. Her furniture and boxes already arrived two days prior, courtesy of her dad and expedited shipping. The process of unpacking is tedious and annoying, Delphina growing unreasonably frustrated with each passing moment. Her room here is much smaller than her room at the Compound so it’s like playing Tetris trying to fit her furniture. Delphina never liked Tetris. Eventually, she gives up, hearing the sounds of the front door opening and shutting, the old house shaking from the force, a second later unfamiliar voices filtering through the house.

Quietly, Delphina walks downstairs, the soft sound of feet touching the carpet the only sound she makes. It sounds like two voices - a man and a woman. Upon reaching the landing of the stairs, she sees two people standing in the living room with her mom. The girl looks around Delphina’s age, with mousy brown hair and a pale complexion that makes her mom look like a middle aged woman who fell asleep in a tanning bed. The man next to her is much older, probably her dad. He’s wearing a police officer uniform with short brown hair and a mustache that looks like something straight out of an 80s boy band.

“Delphina! I was just about to call you. Come in come in, I want you to meet some people.” her mom exclaims, the smile on her face a touch too wide. The two people look over at Delphina as she apprehensively walks further into the room until she stands next to her mom, directly across from the girl.

“This is Charlie Swan and his daughter Bella,” both of them smile at Delphina, the girl nodding when her mom says her name.

“Hey,” Delphina says, feeling the gaze of her mom that oozes with sugary sweetness, hiding daggers in them, silently demanding that Delphina play nice, if only for the next few minutes.

“Hey,” the girl, Bella, mimics. “You’re going to Fork High, right?”

“Not like there's any other high school,” Delphina says. Her mom digs her elbow into

Delphina’s side, subtle enough their guests don't notice, but firm enough to get her point across. Bella’s expression falls the tiniest bit, glancing at her dad and Delphina’s mom before moving her gaze back to her, and Delphina feels a small amount of guilt set in.

‘Must be Capsicle’s influence finally rubbing off on me.’

“Sorry, yes, I’ll be at Forks,” Delphina says, painting the most charming smile she can force on her lips. And Bella’s smile returns, nodding her head again as she opens her hand, pointing it towards Delphina.

“Me too, I can pick you up tomorrow, if you’d like?” she continued. Delphina opens her mouth to decline, not wanting to interact with anyone more than necessary--.

“She’d love to.” her mom interjects smiling at Delphina, her voice too chirper to be normal. Delphina gifts her with a scathing glare, not enjoying her mom strong-arming her into making friends. “It might be good for you to have some friends your own age.” her mom says in a defensive tone. This elicited an eye roll from Delphina but she didn’t argue and a laugh from Charlie that he quickly covers up with a cough when she looks over at him.

“Yeah, Bella could introduce you to her friends at school, they’re… interesting.” Charlie says. At the end of his sentence, he starts scratching the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. The tension in the room between Delphina and her mom is palpable, so thick you could taste it.

“That’s a great idea! Now, I do believe Bella was kind enough to bake us some brownies, so let’s go eat dinner and devour those,” her mom exclaims, bustling towards the kitchen area.

Internally, Delphina groans as she drags her feet towards the dining room. She would give her left foot away if it meant she could be back at the Compound, locked away in her dad’s lab as she tinkers with anything and everything. Instead she has to endure as her mom plays host, pretending to not notice the wary looks both Bella and Charlie give her, like she’s a ticking bomb seconds away from exploding if either of them say or do the wrong thing.

o0o0o0o

After the most awkward dinner ever, Charlie and Bella leave their house, Bella telling Delphina she’ll be back at 7:30 am to pick her up. After helping her mom clean up, placing dishes in the sink and quickly wiping down the table, Delphina rushes up to her room, ready to go to sleep. She gets undressed and throws on some cotton pajamas, running through her skincare routine before eventually settling in bed, scrolling through her IPad mindlessly, doing anything and everything to avoid any headlines that involve the Avengers. A few moments later, her mom knocks on her doorway, standing in the hallway. She’s out of her clothes and in a sleep shirt and old leggings, wet hair dripping on the carpet with a bare face.

“Goodnight,” she says.

“Night mom,” Delphina says, not looking up from her screen.

“Del, I’m glad you’re here.” her mom says after a moment of silence.

“Yeah, I missed you,” she mutters, briefly meeting her mom’s gaze before her eyes flit back to the bright screen, enraptured by the cat video playing. She sighs and then another moment of silence passes before once again, it’s broken by her mom.

“Look, I understand this must be difficult with everything that’s happened in the past month --” her mom begins. Delphina’s mind snaps to the present upon hearing the words, already where the conversation is heading and not liking it.

“I’m gonna make like Kanye, and cut you off. I don’t want to talk about it,” she says, holding up one perfectly manicured hand.

“I’m serious Delphina, I know you were close with all of them, and now most of them are wanted criminals --” her mom pushes through like a charging boar going headfirst, seemingly unbothered by Delphina’s attempt at shutting down the conversation.

“And I’m serious when I say I don’t want to talk about it.” Her voice grows louder, completely smothering the words her mom said. She presses down on the lock button, her IPad turning off with a quiet click. She haphazardly tosses it to the other side of the bed, bouncing a few times before it settles in its spot.

“Ignoring it isn’t going to solve anything,” Anna continues to argue, looking at her daughter with wide, pleading eyes.

“And neither is this conversation,” Delphina says, throwing the plush duvet over herself, cocooning herself in it’s warm embrace, willing her mom and her prying question away.

“I don’t want to start this right now Del. Just know I love you.” and with that, her mom closes the door behind her, her footsteps slowly disappearing.

Delphina lays motionless for hours, staring at the same spot in the wall, her mind a chaotic storm, sweeping away any sense and logic. Eventually sleep overcomes her, lulling her into it’s warm embrace, the memories fading away until all she dreams about is happier times.

o0o0o0o

FORKS HIGH Home of the Spartans.

The wood sign in the grass displaying the high school name, like everything else in this town, is old and worn, the words nearly too faded to read. The school building itself is no exception. The brick building is larger than Delphina anticipated, different than the pictures she painted in her mind. The design is similar to the stereotypical school, the kind in all the kids cartoons. Bella’s orange truck pulls into a parking spot, near a white van with a group of people surrounding it. Her eyes scan over them, watching the three boys rambunctiously talk to each, pushing one another around, feeding into the small town stereotypes Delphina built up. The group turn to face the truck once Bella cuts the engine, the truck spitting loudly before finally shutting down. And Delphina has to force the scowl that’s forming on her face away, unwilling to further the rich girl stereotype, even if she perfectly fits into it most days.

“Hey, Bella! Who’s that with you?” a blonde guy in a letterman jacket and jeans says to Bella as she opens the car door, Delphina following suit.

“Hey Mike, this is Delphina, she’s new here,” Bella replied, gesturing towards Delphina’s general direction with her hand. The group immediately turn their attention to Delphina, watching her like scavenger birds about to feast upon a freshly rotted corpse.

Gross.

“Delphina eh? Interesting name, I’m Mike,” the guy - Mike - says, walking towards her with his hand outstretched.

“Don’t touch me,” she says, effortlessly side stepping him and turning towards Bella. “I’ll see you later, I’ve got to get my schedule.”

“Wait aren’t you Tony Stark’s daughter!?” a girl in the group exclaims, her voice grating against Delphina’s eardrums.

She doesn’t give them a response or any indication she hears the question, quickly walking away from the group. She adjusts her backpack and messes with the bracelet on her wrist, the metal is cold and smooth to the touch, bringing her out of her thoughts momentarily.

Left foot, right foot. Left foot, right foot.

She wills herself to keep moving forward rather than fleeing like she wanted to, especially since everyone’s gaze is on her. She can see in their faces, the tilt of confusion, eyes alight as they recognize the daughter of Iron Man himself. The closer she gets to the steps that lead up to the school, the more people notice her. And despite the airs of arrogance she puts on, Delphina hates people looking at her, especially when they look at her like a tiny new toy to play with. And for a brief moment, she considers convincing her mom to let her do online school rather than deal with any people. Or maybe she could run off into the woods surrounding the school, never to be seen again as she lives in solitude for the rest of her days.

Eventually she reaches the top of the steps, moving in the school building that brings a much-needed warmth to her chilled body. Her eyes scan the entrance, trying to see past all the people moving around, chatting loudly with one another. More students are inside, near lockers and other spots, seemingly enjoying the cold as much as Delphina did. She darts towards the wooden door to her left, the sign hanging over it reading OFFICE.

Entering the room, it’s relatively small with a few chairs pushed up against the wall. They face towards the counter that the front desk woman is sitting behind. And further behind her is another door that most likely leads to the office of the principal and the assistant principal. The woman behind the desk looks to be in her late 40s, with fine blonde hair, nearly as pale as her skin, that’s cropped short. She wears a pair of stereotypical receptionist glasses set on the bridge of her nose as she eyes Delphina with a look of interest. Thick red lipstick coats her thin, wrinkly lips, some of it smudging onto her face.

“How can I help you today sweetie?” she asks, lowering her gaze slightly to get a better look. Her eyes burned through Delphina for a few moments, trying to determine if she knows her from somewhere. Delphina moves forward until she stands close enough to the counter that she can touch it and smell the strong floral perfume the woman wears.

“Hi, I’m Delphina Stark. I’m here to pick up my schedule,” she says. With those magical words, Delphina watches the woman’s eyes widen a fraction in surprise before she manages to semi collect herself. But she’s sitting up a bit straighter, her lips stretching into a grin that is a hair wider than a few minutes before.

It looks like the notoriety of her last name has reached everyone in little old Forks.

“Oh of course! I’ll get that right for you, Ms. Stark,” the woman says, rolling her chair away and opening a filing cabinet. She rummages around for a few moments, before finding her target. She rolls back to where Delphina is waiting and places the sheet of paper on the counter, her long acrylic nails tapping against the countertop. Bright red, a bold color, yet so stereotypical for a secretary. “Here you go, dear.”

“Thanks,” she mutters, turning to leave the room as soon as possible. Looking down at the paper, she reads her first class of the day, Biology. Glancing down at the map in her hands, Delphina begins following the vague directions, hoping to get there before class starts.

‘God knows I don’t need the attention.’

o0o0o0o

The bell rings loudly in the hall, piercing through any ambient noises and causes any lingering students to rush off. With a slur of curse words, Delphina rushes towards the door, that if the map is correct, should lead to her Biology class. Her footsteps pound against the glossy linoleum floors as she closes the distance between her and the door. She stops in front of the door, smoothing down her sweater and jeans, adjusting her backpack, and smooths her hair. With a final deep breath, Delphina opens the door, entering the classroom.

The chattering that previously filled the room ceases once Delphina enters the room. The teacher, Mr. Molina is standing near his desk and currently faces Delphina, some papers in hand along with a pen. He smiles widely at her, in an attempt to ease her anxiety, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he does. Each of her steps in the room is magnified 100x, the students watching her like a hawk.

“Hello, Delphina I assume?” he asks, meeting her halfway, clicking his pen on.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she says, handing him the paper the front desk lady gave her. He quickly scribbles his signature and hands the paper back to Delphina. He turns towards his desk and grabs a book before turning back to her.

“Alright Delphina Stark, welcome to Biology! Here’s this book for you --” he says as he hands her the Biology textbook. “I’ve got a seat for you, right over there,” he continues, pointing to the only empty seat in the room.

“Thanks,” she mutters, making her way down the rows of seats towards her new lab partner.

When her eyes land on him, Delphina nearly forgets how to breathe properly, needing to make an effort to inhale and exhale. He looks perfect, like a sculpture from Ancient Greece with a beauty that could put actual gods to shame. His skin is porcelain pale, nearly glowing in the dingy classroom lighting. His copper hair is messy, like he runs his hands through it a million times a day, framing golden eyes that look like glittering gold. He’s boyish in appearance with a blank expression resting on his perfect face, clearly already bored with the class. An unopened notebook along with a pen is the only possession he seems to have with him.

His gaze moves up to Delphina, gold meeting blue for only a second, but it’s enough to electrify her, as he moves his eyes back to his desk, fist clenching at his sides ever so slightly. And despite Delphina’s best interest, her heart stutters for a moment, her mouth getting drier the longer she looks at him.

Like in a trance, she moved towards the table, her eyes moving from her mysterious lab partner, to the back wall, back to him, then back to the wall. She finally arrives at the table, pulling out the chair and sitting in it. The chair scrapes against the floor, pulling attention back to Delphina, but they quickly lose interest as the Mr. Molino starts to speak, droning on about onions or something.

“Hey,” she says, not expecting a reply, if his sullen expression is anything to go by.

And she doesn’t receive one. The entire class passes by and he manages to not utter a single word to Delphina, doesn’t even breathe in her direction.

As soon as the bell rings, signifying that class is over, the guy shoots out the classroom, disappearing from view before Delphina could even blink, leaving her mildly disgruntled, confusion clouding her thoughts.

“Hey, New York!” the voice of Mike breaks her out of her thoughts. “Why don’t you let me walk you to class?”

And as she grabs her books and bag, she groans, doing everything in her power to dodge Mike while inflicting minimal injuries to him, not wanting to be sent home on her first day of school.

o0o0o0o

Tags:

@stuckupstucky

#Edward Cullen x reader #Edward Cullen imagine #edward cullen #edward cullen fanfic #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #twilight one shot #cullen clan #stark!reader #stark!daughter #stark!oc #Avengers #post civil war #avengers crossover #pre infinity war

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josephinelouiseobrien · 4 years

Text

Worlds Colliding (1)

concept: Spencer Reid x OC • NCIS x criminal minds

synopsis: Allison Gibbs returns from the navy only to end up on a long list of victims. Now the only hope of keeping her out of harms way and solving this case is a socially awkward doctor by the name of Spencer Reid.

A/N: this is the first time I’ve ever written on this app so please be kind, I’m soft 🥺

Masterlist

Worlds colliding Masterlist

[synopsis | ch.2]

——————————————————————————

The house seemed significantly smaller than the last time she’d been there. Before her deployment she remembered it having a daunting air surrounding it - then again it made sense that things would seem different, nearly getting blown to pieces can really change a persons can outlook on life.

Slowly she turned the doorknob a half laugh falling from her lips. ‘Of course’ she thought to herself, what was she expecting? He hadn’t locked the front door since she was in grade school. ‘He’s never gonna change.’

The house was just as she’d left it. Well, minus the to-go boxes sitting on the kitchen table. Sighing she quickly disposed of them before dropping her duffel bag at the bottom of the stairs. Her father was no where to be seen, which only meant one of two things; either he was on a case, or he was holed up in the basement building god-knows-what.

Her boots thudded underneath her as she walked down the familiar wooden steps. She had yet to change out of her naval uniform. The familiar camouflage cargo pants and matching button up top had become like a second skin - one she was itching to rip off and shove into the back of her closet. God she really missed her sweatpants.

“Tony, I thought I told you-” her father stopped mid sentence as he spotted the familiar strawberry blonde. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he took in the sight of his daughter, “ally?”

Allison Gibbs smiled brightly, quickly snapping out of her thoughts. “Hey, dad.” Her voice muffled under the fabric of her fathers shirt as he pulled her into a bone crushing hug.

“I thought you weren’t due back home for another few months.”

The strawberry blonde nodded as he released her. “yeah, the date got moved up last minute.”

Gibbs sighed, “well, why didn’t you call and tell me?”

“It would’ve ruined the surprise.” Allison answered smiling as if it were obvious.

Her father simply sighed, failing to hide his smile. “Well, if i had known I would’ve cooked. Do you want me to order you takeout or something?”

Allison shook her head, “dad, I’m fine.” The blonde then stopped as she realized she was not fine. She could practically smell herself - when was the last tome I showered? “I’m just gonna go take a shower.”

Gibbs nodded going back to whatever he was working on when she’d walked in. He wanted to go spend the rest of the night with her but he, better then anyone, knew what it was like coming home from deployment. If Allison was anything like him she probably wouldn’t even leave her bed tomorrow.

——————————————————————————

It was midday by the time Allison woke up the next morning. Rubbing her eyes she nearly tripped down the stairs before using the wall to steady herself. “Dad?” The strawberry blonde called as she looked around the house. He was gone. ‘Work’ the realization hit her quickly, another thought soon following. ‘What am I supposed to do all day.’

Her life practically revolved around her father and the navy. Growing up she was home schooled and forced to go to work everyday with her extremely overprotective parent. After that she focused all her energy on college studying psychology and foreign language. Then she joined the navy and began training for the time when she’d be deployed. Now she was home and completely lost on what she was supposed to do.

Sighing she dragged herself into the kitchen an idea quickly coming to her: she could bring her father lunch. At first she was unsure but the more she thought about it the more it cemented in her mind. She could killed two birds with one stone, make sure her father eats, and visit her family (her fathers coworkers).

Quickly she put together a ham and cheese sandwich - she was not a housewife and honestly a dog probably wouldn’t even eat the monstrosity she dared call a sandwich. Still, it was her best excuse of going to the navy yard and making herself feel useful.

She took the bus, something she had actually never done before. Just overprotective dad things. The ride to the navy yard was short and before she knew it she was smiling at the man sitting behind the front desk.

“Ally? Is that you?”

The strawberry blonde smiled brightly, “nice to see you again, Harris. I’m just bringing my dad lunch.”

Harris has been the security guard working the front desk and checking I.D.’s since Allison was in grade school. He never forgot a face and he sure as hell never forgot her. Sometimes she’d just sit at his desk with him and color - that was only when her father and his coworkers were out on a case though.

“Good to have you back.” Harris called out, Allison sending him a nod as the elevator doors closed.

Her foot tapped in anticipation as she watched the numbers change before her. Soon the number ‘8’ lite up and the strawberry blonde had to keep herself from running towards the bullpen where her father and his coworkers would surely be.

As she approached only two people seemed to be working - well, make that one - Timothy McGee. He’d only joined her fathers team four years ago when Allison was completing her time at college. They quickly became friends and he was a lot like a brother to her.

The other two people sitting at there desks were Anthony Dinozzo and Ziva David. Tony has always been like an older brother to Allison, he joined her fathers team long before tim, when she was around fifteen. Ziva on the other hand joined a year after agent McGee to replace Caitlin Todd, an agent killed on a case. Luckily for Allison the two were too engrossed in an arguement to notice her - this gave her the chance to jump scare them.

Smirking the strawberry blonde crept behind Tony’s desk, making sure that ziva hadn’t seen her - McGee had his face in his computer and a bomb going off probably wouldn’t have distracted him. How he was able to focus so well was beyond the girl.

“Boo!” Allison yelled causing Tony to scream resembling that of a little girl before falling out of his desk chair.

Ziva burst into laughter her face lighting up at the sight of his boss’ daughter. “Allison!” She’d always thought of her as a little sister, someone who could relate to her. They’d both lost their own sisters and in a way filled that hole in their hearts for each other.

Allison returned Ziva a bone crushing hug the two girls staying like that until the sound of Dinozzo clearing his throat pulled them apart. “Great, little Gibbs is back. And here I was getting use to the quiet.”

“Hey!” Allison’s jaw fell slack in shock and mock offense.

Tony rolled his eyes before motioning for her to come give him a hug as well. That’s how their relationship was - they’d spit sarcastic remarks back and forth but in the end they were family.

McGee was pulled away from his computer as Allison wrapped him into a hug. “How was Iraq?” Tim asked genuinely curious as to how her first deployment went.

“I’m not dead so.” Quickly Allison stoped herself from making anymore dark humored jokes. It had always been a way for her to cope with things but it also made them seem unreal. She seriously needed to stop detaching herself from reality and see a therapist. “It was good, we didn’t lose anyone over there but it’s wierd being back. I just don’t have anything to do.”

“So you decide to distract my team from solving this case?” Her father spoke up from behind her as he walked in - coffee in hand.

A few mumbled: ‘sorry boss’ were heard as Ziva, Tony, and McGee took their seats but Allison just gave her father an innocent smile. “No, I decided to bring you lunch.”

Dinozzos eyes widened from where he sat at his desk, “you cooked?”

“Yeah, I’m a great cook.”

Her father looked into the brown paper bag his daughter had handed him before looking back up to meet her gaze. “What is this supposed to be? Tuna?”

“No!” Allison replied, “it’s a ham and cheese sandwich.”

Gibbs sighed giving his daughter an ‘are you serious’ look.

The strawberry blonde sighed, “fine, I just didn’t know what else to do. I was bored!”

Her father sighed, letting it slide this time before turning back to his agents. “What do you got?” He knew how hard it was to reintegrate back into society after deployment. Either way, she was safer at the office with him then out doing god-knows-What.

Dinozzo was the first to speak: “Lucy Friar. 26. Joined the marines out of high school, just got back from her third deployment.”

“Anything connecting her to the last three victims?” Gibbs asked glancing to McGee for the answer.

“Aside from the obvious - being a women in the marines and torture before being strangled - no.”

Ziva sighed as she grabbed the clicker out of dinozzos hand. On the screen appeared the personal badges of three women - each was different in height, weight, hair color, and eye color. “I don’t get it, they’re all different. The only thing these women had in common was that, well, they were women.”

“Maybes that’s the connection.” Allison spoke up. She’d been helping them solve cases since middle school, despite her father discouraging her input she still tried to help. “Psychologically speaking it makes sense. The killer doesn’t believe women belong in the marines - he has a mysogynistic mind set. He’s probably a white male in his mid to late thirties with some sort of personal connection to the marines specifically. He feels, almost, offended that they women are allowed to join.”

The room was silent as they stared at the girl. Allison looked around watching as her fathers eyebrows raised waiting for her to finish. “But, I’m not a profiler.” The strawberry blonde added on becoming slightly less confident in her statement.

Gibbs sighed, “does Abby know your back? Why don’t you go say hi to her.”

Allison stared at her father in shock, “you do realize I’m not some child who you can just send down to Abby when I try to help you with a case, right?”

“Allison.”

At the use of her full name the strawberry blonde mumbled a, ‘fine’ under her breathe before walking towards the elevator.

Abbys lab was on the bottom floor and upon walking in the women spun around and greeted her, only she didn’t know she was greeting her. “Gibbs, I just processed the evidence. I’m good but not that good-”

“Not Gibbs.” Allison corrected, pausing as she realized, technically, she was Gibbs. “Well, not that Gibbs.”

“Ally!” Abby squealed wrapping the shorter girl into a bone crushing hug.

Allison’s eyes widened as her friend continued to tightly hug her. “Ab-Abby... can’t.... breathe.”

“Oh, sorry.” The raven haired women replied pulling away with a smile. “When did you get back?”

“Last night.”

“And you didn’t call me?”

Allison laughed softly, she always felt really loved when she was at her fathers work. This was her family and Abby was like an older sister - just a really overly energetic goth one. “I was tired. I didn’t even get back to my house until midnight.”

Abby sighed, “okay, well then your stuck down here spending the rest of the day with me.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Allison laughed, as Abby passed her the extra Caf-pow that sat in her freezer. Cat-Pow was a lot like an energy drink just stronger and the amount of caffeine alone had Allison cringing. “God, I forgot how strong this stuff was.”

“Abby, what do you got?” Gibbs’ voice caught the two girls attention. Abby was quick to turn back to her computer pulling up an almost blank screen. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Abby replied, “because that’s what I’ve got, nothing.”

Gibbs sighed, “what do you mean?”

“This guy is good, okay?” Abby walked over to the few evidence bags piled onto the metal table pulling them out. “He hasn’t left behind any forensic evidence connecting to himself. All I can tell you is how she was killed, which is exactly what ducky will tell you.”

“Okay, so how was she killed?”

“The tortures the same as the last three victims.” Abby answered clicking a button on her keyboard as a second screen popped up. “All were raped and beaten with a belt - the belt can be found at any retail clothing store, I already ran the marking through everything I could. Then they were all strangled, that was done by the killer.”

Allison glanced at her father, “how long have you been on this case?”

“Seven months.”

“Maybe you should call in some help.” Allison replied, “naval women - the people I fight alongside of are dying. Maybe call in the real profilers, they might stand a chance at catching this guy.”

——————————————————————————

A/N: the BAU will be introduced in hopefully the next chapter I just wanted to give some background information and introduce these characters. I only know what I’ve heard from family about coming back from deployment (two of my uncles served and this is what they told me it was like for them). I’m sorry if anything’s wrong or there’s incorrect information as you can also see I’m not the best at keeping characters in character and I feel like this could’ve been better but... idk I’m ranting.

#dr. spencer reid #spencer reid #mgg #mark harmon #ncis #ncis reader insert #ncis fanfiction #abby sciuto #ziva david #tony dinozzo #tim mcgee #leroy jethro gibbs #fanfic

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mimik-u · 4 years

Text

Flower Child: Chapter 15 (Daze)

AO3 Link

3:32 AM:

If fault was to be placed, assigned, consecrated, and ordained, then Blue Diamond supposed it was her own fault in the end.

This was nothing new.

How could it possibly be when it was everything familiar?

It was a cycle studiously recapitulated, and it was a tango long danced, and it was a litany of the damned carved deep into the facets of her memories, buried there and intimately known only to the ghostly choir of her own head.

It all circles back to me, does it not? She had asked on a balcony full of light. She had very nearly collapsed. I’m sorry, Yellow.

For being like this.

For being me.

When Blue pulled her nightgown on that evening and stared at her sleeping pill for a few seconds less than her usual disdain for it entailed, she supposed that she should have estimated right then and there that hope was not enough to save her from the night, and that hope was an imperfect solution, and that while grief was one dangerous entity, hope was still another.

At least she knew grief, the very dimensions of it and what it took from her—piece by piece over so many days, months, and years.

She couldn’t say the same about hope, the emotion having eluded her for so long.

If grief was wasting, then hope was generous. It gave and it gave, and it swelled like a tentative blossom in her chest, rising up from a ribcaged ground against all the odds of a cruel, forbidding world.

It gave her a false sense of security.

It gave her the strength to swallow one sleeping pill more.

And so, when the dreams came that night, seething over Blue like a restless tide, she hadn’t expected to be taken so far away from the shore, dragged beneath the undertow, and churned and churned and churned.

She sat on the edge of the hospital bed, leaning over the pale form of Steven Universe who smiled up at her with all of his teeth. Even in the feathery edges of a dream, his dark, brown eyes seemed to be lit from within, candles behind tinted lantern glass, flickering gently.

Sunlight drifted in from the nearest window, falling like a thin, golden blanket across them both.

She dreamed that she was kind, that she reached up and brushed a stray curl from his clammy forehead as various machines hummed all around them. The oxygen cannulas weaving around his ears and into his button nose hissed pneumatically. Wires indicated his aliveness, his hereness and his thereness, in steady, rhythmic beeps.

“Hello, sweet boy,” she murmured, the beginnings of a tentative smile lifting her parenthetically enclosed lips. It was becoming a little easier every time now—to smile and to mean it, to smile and to do so without reflexive condemnation.

“You looked away from me, Mom,” the child beneath her whispered, her skin cool beneath Blue’s long-fingered touch. “Why?”

Pink Diamond had taken Steven’s place in the bed, brown eyes dull and feverish, her accusation and her question alike caked on her cracked lips. Blood dribbled warningly down her mouth in a thin line.

“Pink!” The name was stolen from her, violently wrenched. She was just a little girl, and they still killed her anyway.“I—“

“Excuses,” Yellow Diamond scoffed in that singularly imperial way of hers.

Pink was gone—she was always gone—and her wife remained, her sharp facial features arranged in a knowing sneer. If Steven Universe’s eyes glowed like candlelight, then the businesswoman’s amber eyes seemed to burn with all the ferocity of a dying sun. It was a wonder that she didn’t simply implode on herself with all of that anger, shatter from the inside out and crumple to thousands of unrecoverable pieces.

“That’s all you have these days, Blue. Excuses, excuses.” Each word was a cruel crack of the whip driven into her skin with relish. How they loved to rake the nails of their words across each other’s faces these days; how good it felt to take some of the pain out on themselves and each other and the whole, damn, godawful world. “Why? Why now?”

Blue’s tongue fumbled for an answer, but it was hard, nigh impossible to think over the insistent shrilling of the disconnect tone of a long interrupted call. How long had she sat in that waiting room after Yellow had hung up?

Five minutes?

Maybe ten before the woman named Amethyst plodded over?

Seconds were eternities these days; they felt like years upon years upon bitter, aching years.

“Defend yourself,” Yellow demanded.

“You’ll never let me grow up, will you?”

“So, please , Blue Diamond… please don’t look away,” Steven Universe whispered.

He begged.

Blue Diamond did not wake with a start.

Nor did she wake with a scream.

She woke because a doorbell pealed through the silence of the penthouse suite, its sliding tones slipping beneath the darkness and into Blue Diamond’s half-empty bed, pressing an insistent hand against the wrenched open ‘o’ of her mouth.

It was a gruesomely familiar sound, heard so many times in so many different iterations of the same echo which seized across the twilight zone of her memories.

2:38AM.

That was when a police officer came to their front door and shattered the portrait of the Diamonds’ picturesque lives.

He’d rung the doorbell ever so politely.

He told them that their daughter was dead.

Pale eyes wide in collecting, growing, abscessing horror, Blue Diamond slowly turned her head to the left where she could just make out the change of one minute to the next on the alarm clock as the bell continued to chime, its music walking briskly down the hallway, its urgency knocking insistently at her bedroom door.

3:36AM.

She waited for Yellow Diamond to burst through the threshold in a mass of panicked limbs and bedstruck hair, alarm in her golden eyes, the collar of her silky pajama shirt rising against her neck, but no such reassuring image erupted in the darkness.

The knight didn’t clamber through the trapdoor.

Her wife didn’t come.

It was an untenable oxymoron to Blue.

A contradiction.

An impossibility.

Because Yellow always showed up.

Perhaps she never arrived as quietly and as kindly as Blue would have preferred. Goodness knew that she was loud. Heavens knew she was harsh. The entire world called her abrasive and was almost entirely correct to do so. She wielded the sharpness of her persona like storied warriors had once done their gleaming swords.

But even so, and all the same, Yellow Diamond, for all of her faults, was there—constant, unwavering, stoic, and steady. She was never more than a step across the hallway, the door to her study never completely closed.

She hadn’t come home before Blue had gone to bed, though.

She’d texted.

Brusquely.

And indicated that her meeting would hold her up.

“Don’t stay up. I’ll be home shortly afterwards.”

The doorbell chimed again, loud and ugly.

Ruinous.

8:13AM:

Stunned silence followed the nephrologist’s proclamation as morning light leaned in from the window, eager and insistent, yellow fingertips braced on the sill, as though it was straining to hear the news, too. They crowded around Steven’s bed—Garnet, Amethyst, and Greg—and stared at Priyanka Maheswaran with open disbelief, the emotion naked across their wide eyes and half-opened mouths. Greg’s fingers gently gripped his son’s shoulder.

Softly.

With all the delicacy that his condition required.

Kidneys.

His son was getting—

“No fuckin’ way, Doc!”

Amethyst’s exclamation shattered the vacuum that the extraordinary words had made, and it was with a smile that transformed her entire physiognomy—so harsh and often weary—that Priyanka Maheswaran succinctly replied, “Yes, Amethyst. Yes fucking way.”

It was the most visible marker of how exultant she was that the usually prim doctor swore aloud in front of Steven.

And it was the most audible sign of how overwhelmed Pearl was that she, on speaker phone, didn’t bother to even scold the doctor, her affected gasp nearly unheard over the resulting din. For, in the blurred rush of seconds that followed, there was only incomprehensible noise and laughter and celebratory yelling as Garnet picked Amethyst up and spun her around through the light filled air. And there was an excited tangle of voices on the other end of the line as Peridot and Lapis were handed the news, too, the thin pillars of Pearl’s voice shaking at their foundations. The girls screamed, and they shouted, and they dissolved in paroxysms of disbelief, while a cat somewhere in the midst of them happily meowed. And there was a hoarse sob, thick and unrestrained, as Greg’s shoulders shook with a relief that felt so much like agony that he could barely stand to stand upright. His knees buckled as though were about to give way beneath his feet, the ground shuddering almighty and, strangely enough, not all.

“You mean it, Dr. M?” Steven’s throttled voice entered the fray. His heart monitor had sped up somewhere in the middle of all the commotion, betraying his emotions before his sunken face ever could.

Because, as Greg glanced down, hardly able to comprehend what he was seeing through his tears, he could at very least ascertain that the fourteen-year old’s face was partially closed off, furrowed brow questioning as he peered up at Dr. Maheswaran from darkly grooved eyes.

This year had taken so much out of him.

He couldn’t afford another loss.

None of them could withstand so much as a singular blow more.

“I’m…” Steven grappled with the words as though each one was new on his tongue, heavy and awkward, a little clumsy between the teeth. Greg, wiping at his snotting face with one hand, brought the other downwards from his son’s gowned shoulder and onto his wrist, touching it lightly, careful of all the slithering tubes. “I’m getting kidneys?”

Complete silence then—sudden—expectant and almost fearful.

Garnet set Amethyst down.

Static crackled on the line as Pearl and Lapis and Peridot all held their baited breaths.

And then, Priyanka Maheswaran did something very un-Priyanka Maheswaran-like, and Priyanka Maheswaran had just dropped the f-bomb in a room with a fourteen-year old for God’s sake.

With a movement as slow as it was gentle, as tentative as it was quiet, the careworn doctor sat down on the edge of Steven’s bed and placed one of her lined hands on his blanketed leg. It was a mother’s touch—Greg could tell from the way that the pads of her fingers were arced ever so lightly on top of the wool, as though she was cupping the boy, holding him, and not simply touching. All the accumulated furrows in her face seemed to breathe with a kind of easiness that seemed contrarian to the woman’s unbending nature.

Paradoxical.

Dichotomous even.

But not wrong.

No.

Tenderness very much became Priyanka Maheswaran.

“In roughly half an hour, I’m getting in a helicopter that’s going to take me across the city to Empire Gen,” she began, “to an operating room where I’ll stand for a couple of hours waiting for Dr. Keating to say that it’s time. And there they’ll be, Steven.”

Her dark eyes widened.

A smile crept, all clandestine, onto her lips.

“Your kidneys, ready to come home.”

She squeezed his knee then and held on to it—held on to him, anchoring him, or perhaps even herself, and maybe both of them together.

And in the space following this gesture, there was a pause, a slip of a second of a beat, before Steven finally let out the shuddered breath that they had all been holding.

The skepticism melted from his face, making way for acceptance, and on the heels of acceptance, relief.

“Took them long enough,” he grinned weakly.

It was the kind of joke that wasn’t funny, but, at the same time, very much was.

In that hospital room, filled to the point of excess with light and noise, they all laughed so hard, it was a wonder that they weren’t crying.

9:29AM:

For the first time in months, there was music in the kitchen.

There was dancing, and there was laughter, and there was joy.

Oh, God, there was joy.

So much of it.

Simply overflowing.

Lapis turned the radio on and knobbed the volume up as loud as it would go, and Peridot, cradling a bemused Cat Steven in her arms, swayed breeze-like to the folksy, jangling beat. And the kitchen smelled like bacon and eggs and the warm doughiness of freshly made waffles. And this and this and this. And sunlight glanced in through the open windows, wreathing them all in crowns made of rosy gold and capes of salt-weathered wind. And the waves jubilantly whispered the news against the shore. And the susurrus swelled to a crescendo just as the song on the radio proclaimed its triumphant chorus: love, love, love, precious love.

And this and this and this.

And though Pearl tried to attend to the oranges that needed squeezing for the juice they would eventually drink, and though she attempted to slice a few strawberries to garnish their waffles, Lapis only shook her electric blue head and pulled the slight woman into the center of the wooden floor to dance, their fingers tangling with the sounds of their laughter and shitty singing, with the unfettered sounds of celebration and euphoria and bliss.

And this and this and this.

Because Steven was getting kidneys today.

He was going to live.

And Pearl had no choice but to be swept up with the commotion of it, for the kitchen and the beach house and all the people and animals within its boundaries were simply kinetic with it—the emotion, the feeling, the loveliness, and the respite.

She tried to care about breakfast, but Lapis’s freckled nose, scrunched up in one long, continuous laugh, distracted her.

As the song’s bridge played, they twirled on the oaken slats of the floor as Lion wove between their legs—in and out—trying to catch the rhythm of their bare, tangoing feet.

And Pearl tried to come back down to Earth, thinking through the financial logistics of the surgery that they would still have to contend with after the fact or maybe even before. Finding the kidneys was only one variable in the equation; affording them was the hefty other. And what of Steven’s hospital stay? And all the medicines he would have to take after the completion of the surgery? When would all these bills pile up with the rest? When would the numbers climb so high that her painfully organized ledger could scarcely hope to scale them?

But these worries, always so pressing in the organized corners of her minds, slipped between the folds of her thoughts as though they were but loose grains of sand as Peridot—Peridot!—barreled in to her near the conclusion of the song. Cat Steven fell lightly to the ground, and the engineer braced her slender arms around Pearl’s midsection, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt. Physical intimacies had never come easily to the reticent twenty-one year old, and so, for this to be the expression of her own relief, for a hug to be how she communicated it to Pearl, was something extraordinary indeed.

Pearl staggered beneath the sudden weight but somehow remained upright, instinctively wrapping her arms around the girl, too.

And they both stood there for what seemed like an eternity compressed into a handful of seconds—fleeting and simply infinite.

The last notes of the song fell through the sun stricken air, and the jockey began to cycle through the daily news. It was seventy-eight degrees outside, sunny without a chance of rain, the wind crisp and cool. Traffic on I-65 leading into Jersey was pretty slow, so drivers might want to consider an alternate route.

It was going to be a beautiful day.

“This is really happening, huh?” Peridot asked, the question muffled against Pearl’s pajama top. A shock of wild, blonde hair brushed the edge of her chin.

“Pinch me,” Pearl only replied, her throat thick with emotion. “I half-think I’m dreaming.”

“Don’t wake up,” Lapis advised dryly as she moved back over to the counter, plucking a piece of bacon from a plate and snapping down hard on it.

“No…” And she smiled then, very softly, the gesture quiet but somehow, simultaneously loud. “I don’t think I will.”

The radio jockey said something then that Pearl tried to care about. Famed Diamond Electric CEO Yellow Diamond had been in a car wreck last night in Empire City. No one was seriously injured, but—

And that was all she deigned to hear before she kissed Peridot lightly atop of the head and extracted herself from the embrace.

“Lapis,” she laughed fondly, “you’re going to eat all the bacon.”

“Oh, like you eat it anyway.”

10:01AM:

Her name was Laura Norwood, and she had been twenty-eight years old—a young woman in the prime of her life. Someone’s daughter. Someone’s fiancée. Someone’s sister. Someone’s very best friend. A drunk driver pulled out in front of her tiny Impala at a red light, and that was that, the damage irrevocably dealt and done.

Five seconds was the difference between Laura Norwood being someone and becoming an empty shell, her head all bandaged up, a ventilator breathing for her because she no longer could. Five seconds was scarcely longer than the blink of an eye, and yet, it was enough to the eradicate everything this girl had been and anything she might have ever hoped to be.

She had a pale scar on her upper lip.

There was a tattoo of the phases of the moon trailing down the fair skin of her upper right arm.

A strand of curly auburn hair escaped the confines of the gauze wrapped around her head wound.

It was always these little things that struck Priyanka Maheswaran so fiercely, piercing her through like a nail hammered in at just the right angle.

Apart from being Steven Universe’s savior, she had been her own person first.

For twenty-eight years and never again.

In the spacious OR at Empire Gen, Priyanka stood in line with the rest of the surgeons who would receive the last gift Laura would ever offer to the world: her organs. The theater was quiet, studiously solemn, as Dr. Alan Keating, the transplant attending, made the first incision, his hand steady as he dragged the scalpel down in a fluid motion that spoke to so many years of having done this dance of vicious contradictions. He had a bushy brow that collected like fuzzy caterpillars above his eyes. Crow’s feet pecked the leathery skin just beneath his wire-rimmed glasses.

“Some of you don’t know the drill,” he said, the bluntness of his words somewhat muffled behind his mask, “but whenever I do this procedure, I have to have a little pick me up, somethin’ to keep me going, somethin’ to remind me why I’m toeing the lines of the Hippocratic Oath that prevents all of us in here from doing any harm.”

Priyanka knew what was coming, and yet, she briefly closed her eyes against it anyway, nausea and aching relief commingling in the pit of her stomach. When she opened them again, she looked at Laura Norwood’s hand, stretched out at a perpendicular angle, and saw that her nails were painted a bright sunshine yellow.

“Startin’ from the left, tell me what organ you’re picking up and who it’s going to.”

Dr. Keating pointed his scalpel at the first person in line, a nervous-looking resident in maroon scrubs. They nearly dropped the cooler they were holding beneath the spotlight of the surgeon’s stare.

“H-heart,” they stuttered, but there was a certain conviction in their voice that spoke volumes. “Masumi Hashimoto. Forty-two years old. She and her husband want to travel the world after she recovers. First stop’s Paris.”

“Good,” Keating nodded gruffly as his fellow passed him an instrument. “Excellent. Next?”

And down the line they went.

“Lungs. Leo Russell. Nineteen and three quarters. He’s the captain of his uni’s debate team.”

“Liver, sir. Jane Myrick. Sixty-three years old. She wants to spend more time with her grandkids... there’s so much more she has to give them.”

“Pancreas. Kitty Coleman. Thirty-one. She and her partner are hoping to rescue a puppy soon.”

And on and on.

Because Laura Norwood’s parents and fiancé had both agreed that she would have wanted to give everything, even if it meant that there was barely nothing of her left.

When Keating’s gray eyes finally lit upon Priyanka, there was a silent understanding that passed in the clinically clean space between them.

Because they’d both been here together, dozens of times—what felt like hundreds—locking gazes over death in order to save just one life more.

“Steven Universe,” she said, her voice low, thick with sudden emotion. She conjured his beaten face in the theater of her mind’s eye. The echoes of all the hands and arms that had embraced her in his hospital room earlier that morning pressed against her skin with a softness that the nephrologist scarcely allowed herself to know. “Fourteen-years old. He’s going to get to grow up, Alan.”

It was a quick gesture, fleeting, but Keating smiled beneath his mask, the wrinkles around his eyes creasing.

“Those stories are always my favorites.”

10:10AM:

If consciousness was a black sea—sloshing, vicious, endless, primordial—then Blue Diamond’s soft voice was the lighthouse that called Yellow Diamond’s vessel safe to shore. She heard the faint strains of it from somewhere within the darkness, and she crawled towards it, simply stumbled, like a child just gaining its feet, all clumsiness. She craved its gentleness. God, how she wanted to be enveloped in its silken embrace. How she wanted to come home.

(Because home was not a place to the consummate businesswoman. It was not a multimillion dollar penthouse suite, nor a study, nor a master bedroom in which she never slept. It was a person. It always had been—Blue and Blue and Blue.)

“She was... inebriated?”

The incredulousness in her wife’s hushed tone was so pronounced, that it was almost, if not entirely, offensive.

“Heavily, Mrs. Diamond,” returned a wry voice that Yellow didn’t recognize. “I doubt she’ll remember even being in the ER when she wakes up, which is a shame. She was absolutely engaging.”

“Insomuch as?”

“She threatened to sue anyone who so much as touched her as we tried to assess her injuries.”

“Ah…” A rustle of heavy fabric and then a sigh, soft and exasperated. “Charming.”

When Yellow Diamond finally wrenched her eyes open, she struggled at first to gather a cohesive impression of her current situation.

Her entire body ached all over, stiff with the sort of heavy soreness she vaguely associated with her college running days, when she’d wake up riddled with cramps after doing ten miles the previous day. If she thought about it, though, really focused, most of the irritation was isolated to her left arm and her head...

Granted, if she had to guess, the latter symptom had more to do with the copious amounts of alcohol she had imbibed the night before as opposed to anything else.

(Another recalled relic from her university days—what it felt like to have a goddamn hangover.)

Apparently lying flat on her back, wherever the hell she was—though she was already beginning to construct a solid theory—Yellow’s heavily-lidded gaze found an unfamiliar white ceiling, upon which she pieced together scattered memories of the night before. Her temples ached dully. There was a heaviness like concrete settled in the dry oasis of her mouth.

They’d been on their way home at who knew what time… it was amazing she had possessed enough of her faculties to be capable of calling her valet to begin with… traffic must have been bad because she kept yelling at the poor woman to drive faster… and then, there was a metallic screeching sound… a simultaneous jolt… a collision… someone had rear ended them… glass shattered with a piercing kind of finality… smoke poured into the entrails of the car, smothering the leather, her clothes, her hacking mouth… Yellow hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt… her entire body had slammed forward with the momentum… and then there was darkness, rushing… the sound of sirens clambering through the night… a jumble of confused noises… people in white coats trying to demand her attention… the coppery scent of blood in the air…

With a wince that wasn’t entirely voluntary, and a conviction that was wholly sure, she concluded that she was absolutely in a hospital.

The question now was the state of her own body.

What was the damage?

How fucked up was she?

Careful not to move her head, she glanced downwards and saw that her left arm was propped on top of a pillow and wrapped tightly in a stiff, dark brace. It comforted her, at the very least, to see that it was not a cast. A cast would have implied brokenness; a brace opened up the possibility that she had been lucky, that she may have escaped nearly intact.

A quick surveillance to her left proffered the view of a wide, glass window with the blinds pulled down. Pinpricks of daylight seeped through the slats, making horizontal rows on the darkened floor.

“She was lucky, Mrs. Diamond.”

Yellow briefly smirked to herself.

Damn right she was.

“As far as we can tell, she only has a hairline fracture in her left wrist and a few small abrasions on her face and neck where glass shrapnels hit her,” the woman she surmised to be her doctor explained. “However, I want to keep her another night for observation, just to ensure that she doesn’t have a concussion we didn’t catch during triage.”

A pause as her wife mulled over the words in that thorough manner of hers, grazing them slowly in the silence.

“That makes sense,” she finally returned. “Thank you, Dr. Reed.”

“Mm, of course.”

The voices waltzed together on Yellow’s far right, the one direction that had escaped her otherwise thorough assessment of her surroundings. Though, perhaps escaped was not the correct word. Escaped was too coincidental; it eliminated the possibility of foresight; it implied a scarcity of intent. And Yellow Diamond, consummate to the last, was not the type of woman who ever committed an action without purpose, who made a movement that did not have an objective neatly attached.

For she was a tactician in her bones, all utilitarian ideology.

Everything had a place stiffly governed by reason.

Every movement was a cosmological chess piece in the game she so adamantly played against the cruel machinations of an unthinking world.

She hadn’t looked to her right because she hadn’t wanted to.

Because she couldn’t bear to face her wife.

Couldn’t stand to comprehend the emotions in her tall, oval face—whatever they happened to be.

The fear.

The shame.

The silent disappointment.

And maybe, worst of all, the love which had long been absent from her grief-torn physiognomy—that Yellow Diamond had craved—desperately—at the very same time that she had grown to fear it in its deficiency.

It was ridiculous—goddamn absurd—but if Blue Diamond still loved her, and it was written all over the softly curving lines in her face, then Yellow didn’t know what she would do.

She supposed she would say it back.

And she would mean it.

Absolutely.

Entirely.

Or, maybe, just maybe, four years of anger and bitterness and sadness and grief and horror and painstaking care and long, sleepless nights and how many missed meetings and hundreds of trips to the cemetery and hundreds of trips to the doctor’s office and fear and loneliness and frustration would rise up the column of her throat and erupt.

Maybe, just maybe, she would simply explode, and the both of them would burn where they laid and stood.

Turning to ash and dust together at last.

All their history consigned to smoke.

So, even now, as Yellow made a motion to slightly tilt her head in that direction, she only allowed herself to ascertain their elongated shadows on the floor, where they stood in the rectangle of light thrown into the room from the hallway. She saw the hem of Blue Diamond’s dress pooling at her feet, and comprehended the metallic supports of her cane sucking the cold, hard ground.

But didn’t dare to glance up.

Because she was afraid that her wife still loved her, and she was terrified that she would say something fucked up to ruin it all over again.

Because that alone was what these four years had so deeply instilled in her, the pedagogy now as habitual as the cup of black coffee she drank every evening.

Insomuch that they still loved each other, they had hurt each other just as much and maybe even more intensely so.

“Do you think she will sleep for a little longer still?” Blue asked, her voice hushed. Yellow Diamond abruptly closed her eyes as she felt the pair’s gazes drawn towards her again, as though suddenly magnetized.

“Possibly,” Dr. Reed replied, her scratchy voice edged with amusement. “We gave her a hefty dosage of sedative.”

“For her sake?” The question was dry, resigned. “Or your own?”

“Excellent question, ma’am.”

In the darkness, Yellow’s brow twitched irritably.

The nerve of this woman.

“In that case then… I think I may go home for awhile—rest… she won’t miss me.”

She said it so casually—and so lightly—that the businesswoman knew that the doctor wouldn’t suspect a thing, but Yellow knew. Or, at the very least, she could hazard a well-educated guess, that Blue believed in the verisimilitude of her statement. Words were always so carefully collected on the palate of her tongue, always loaded with fullness of intent.

It was funny, Yellow supposed.

Downright hilarious.

How belief, then, could be so condemning.

“We’ll keep an eye on her,” Dr. Reed said reassuringly, “and call you if there’s anything urgent.”

“Please do, and thank you. Sincerely…”

“Of course, of course…”

Yellow Diamond heard but did not watch as one pair of footsteps died away and another pair drew closer, the perpetrator’s soft soles shuffling almost imperceptibly against a tiled floor. The clinking and the clanking of an accompanying cane was just a little louder.

It felt as though her heart was about to violate her throat, pulsing so loudly, the sound and the sensation slippery and wet and hot.

Surely, she thought—she dreaded, she half-hoped—Blue Diamond could hear it, too.

Yellow didn’t dare unclose her eyes, though, this shell of a ruse her last defense against a vulnerability she was not yet prepared to confront. She was weak. She was a coward. God, she was so many other foolish things besides. Somewhere, in the hallway just outside the door, the humdrum and quiet cacophony of a hospital swarmed around the two of them like the droning of hazed bees. Somewhere, in the vast, stretching darkness, Blue Diamond stood above her, only feet, mere inches away. Perhaps she even leaned, for the velvety fabric of one of her sleeves grazed the blankets above Yellow’s chest, tantalizing a touch that the woman’s entire existence yearned to re-experience.

How she ached to be touched.

Tenderly.

By the person she loved.

But there was no such relief.

Blue Diamond pulled her hand away.

10:43AM:

While a nurse drew blood from the crook of Steven’s right arm, Garnet dutifully held his left hand, curling the striations of her fingers over the spines of his knuckles—lines and mountains and lines.

He hated needles—this she knew—but he needed one test more in order to ensure that his body was ready for the transplant surgery.

“Hey,” she grinned suddenly, and it was hard to keep the triumph from her voice as she nosed the top of the boy’s pale forehead. “Steven.”

“Whatcha cookin’, good looking?” He returned just as playfully as the nurse withdrew the needle in a flurry of expert motions. She bandaged the spot with a swath of gauze and tape before placing the blood sample carefully in her bin. With a small smile, she took her leave.

“I think it just hit me,” she said softly. She whispered it into his dark hair. Her heart swelled with the emotion. Simply soared. She could have shouted. She half-wanted to still. “You did it, my little fighter. You won.”

“The referee hasn’t called the match yet.” Steven lifted a black brow, taunting her, teasing. She could make out the barest sliver of his face beneath her.

How the side of his mouth was lifted in the beginnings of a smile.

“No,” she murmured, kissing him sweetly, “but it’s all but over.”

11:59AM:

“You suck,” Steven laughed as Amethyst slurped down the dregs of her chocolate milkshake, the straw sucking vacantly at the bottom of the styrofoam.

Because he would be having surgery in a few hours time, the kid wasn’t allowed to eat anymore.

Of course, both of them knew his ribbing was empty anyway.

He hadn’t entirely held down solid food in days.

But hey—it was a special occasion.

She gamely went along, her mouth teasing itself into a wicked smile as she propped her feet up on the side of his bed, crossing her ankles with a kind of delicacy that would have made Pearl both exasperated and faintly proud.

“I’ll drink t’that,” she snorted, raising the empty cup up in the air. “That nurse said you’ll be slurpin’ down milkshakes with me this time next week.”

And it was then, with a suddenness that nearly choked her, all the possibilities of the next chapter of their life opened up to the twenty-eight year old like a good ass preview right before the beginning of a movie.

They were going to get to hit up the Boardwalk for fry bits together again and slam all the burgers and pizzas that they wanted. They would play tag on the beach with Lapis and Peridot and Garnet and sometimes, when she could be enticed, Pearl. They would swim in the shallows of the ocean, riding the salt crusted waves until the sun set low in the carpet of the sky, signaling it was time for dinner.

Time to come home.

They would get to live.

No more hesitations.

No more strings (or tubes) attached.

“Oh,” the little asshole simply smirked. “I can hear Pearl now. That’s disgusting! Are you cave people?”

To which Amethyst could only laugh so hard that her stomach began to ache.

Maybe she shouldn’t have drunk her milkshake so fast after all.

1:12PM:

Tender sunlight threaded itself all silk-like through the blinds as Steven’s soft snores drifted upwards from his half-open mouth. Pearl had only arrived at the hospital a little over half an hour ago, and he had remained awake long enough to smile sleepily at her and say hello before drifting off into the easiest sleep she had seen him surrender to in weeks.

Because it was always a fight these days.

A skirmish.

A war.

To a boy with chronic kidney disease, sleep was as much as a threat as it was a relief.

But now, his purple-ringed eyes were closed in a gentle sort of way, strands of his curly black hair falling across his forehead in loose curls. Pearl was not brave—not in the way Garnet was, at least—she didn’t dare crawl into the hospital bed with him lest she accidentally disturb an important line, a wire, a tube.

Her upbringing was such that she treated all the boundaries she was presented with the respect they may or may not have deserved.

It hadn’t been until she met Rose that she began to wonder what would happen if she toed the tightrope a little more boldly than her strict mother had ever allowed.

It had been Rose who had taught her that love, in all of its sundry, multifaceted forms, was rebellion in and of itself.

A feeling so much bigger than a fixed and finite set of rules.

A sprawling complex of sensations and experiences and memories upon thousands of flickering memories: her spidery fingers tangled in pink hair, Rose’s loud, round laugh, the thrill of protest, the nights they spent exchanging secrets beneath an alabaster moon with its sprinkling of silvery stars. Lips against lips, palms against palms, the shuffle of their warm breaths coiling with the spring breeze. They waltzed together in perfect union, synchronized to even the very last step.

And then she met Greg.

And they fell in love.

And had a baby.

And Rose died.

Simply ceased to exist, as Pearl’s world continued to turn on.

Slowly.

With distant and detached cruelty.

It was an oversimplification of their history, scrubbed free of all the complications that Pearl had agonized over night after night, trying to untangle all the knots in the hopes she would find the lifeline that would tell her where it had all gone wrong.

But the deeper she plunged, the less sure she became, her fingers all red for the effort of trying.

And so, in the end, it was easier to stick to the simple facts.

She had loved Rose, and now she was gone.

But she had left behind Steven for her to love, to cherish, and to protect.

And love?

In and of itself?

Love was rebellion—the woman knew that much at the very least. Love was leaping over sure lines, and it laying your life down on a line. It was eschewing all the boundaries of a normalized existence. It was bravery.

A gentle smile curving the shape of her thin lips, Pearl reached up and pulled the side of her hand down the side of Steven’s face, holding him gently.

Tomorrow morning, she would wrap her slender arms around him.

She would be hard pressed to let him go.

3:28PM:

The hours dripped by, the minutes plunging like saline in a steady, rhythmic drip. Time was meticulously regulated in the space of an OR, systematically quantified and accounted for by the narrow screen on the far wall where huge, red numbers indicated that five hours, twenty-five minutes, and eighteen seconds had elapsed since Keating had made his first incision. Each second, down to its tenth, counted when surgeons literally held lives in their hands, an adage that was especially true of organ procurement surgeries where even the slightest of complications could delay gratification for so many others.

One by one, the various doctors received their organs and made their bow from Dr. Keating’s operating theater. There were places to be, lives to be saved, and new stories to tell in the darkness around the warmth of a kindling fire.

Masumi Hashimoto was going to get to travel to Paris.

And Leo Russell was going to kick ass at debate team.

And Jane Myrick was going to have the opportunity to spend more time with her grandkids.

And Steven Universe… Steven Universe was going to get to grow up.

Sitting on a stool as she waited for Alan to call her up, Priyanka wasn’t quite seeing the Empire Times crossword puzzle that she’d been working on for the last hour or so. Instead, she saw the contours of Steven’s future stretch out before her, bright and tangible where they hadn’t quite been before. There was a lot of smiling and laughter. And there was a flash of sweet mundanity as she pictured him shouldering a backpack for the first time in nearly a year as he wound his way through a crowded school hallway, And there was a certain warmth as the scene suddenly shifted to Greg and the Gems enveloping their boy in the tangle of their arms as they welcomed him home from a long day.

Healthy, safe, and sound.

It struck the nephrologist then, as it so often did when she was caught unaware, that these were all the little things that she sometimes took for granted with her own daughter—going to school and coming home all intact.

Not every parent could say the same.

And so, as Dr. Keating’s team prepared the ice slush that the surgeon would wrap around Laura Norwood’s kidneys in preparation for removal, Priyanka resolved to herself that she would be more attentive to the mundane, to the little moments, to every smile that Connie worked herself up to proffer.

Because the kid had been smiling more often these days, the lines of her lips twitching upwards with more regularity than the doctor was used to knowing.

“Dr. Maheswaran,” Alan said suddenly.

He only ever called her by her formal title when he was about to deliver bad news that any good friend would try to avoid.

His fellows had abruptly stopped what they were doing, hands frozen above Laura’s body, eyes drawn to her midsection.

It was like a grotesque Renaissance painting.

The light head glared unholily onto Dr. Keating’s bowed head.

“Come here for a moment.”

Priyanka’s entire stomach constricted where she sat on a stool that suddenly felt too small for her body. She knew that voice, but it was different this time.

Because she'd gone soft.

She was compromised.

She cared too much about her patient to accept the reasonable outcome of a blow.

“No,” she whispered. Her voice was garbled behind her mask. Guttural. “Alan, no.”

“Blunt kidney trauma…” he replied softly. She knew that voice. It was his best patient voice. The voice doctors used when they were delivering bad news. The voice Priyanka, in all of her studious harshness, had never entirely mastered. “…sometimes doesn’t produce outward signs… I’m sorry, Dr. Maheswaran.”

They’d called each other by their first names for nearly half a decade.

His gruff voice tripped over itself.

It hesitated, and it stared down into the precipice it had to jump.

“These kidneys are unsalvageable.”

4:07PM:

The minutes inched onwards with all the delightfulness of paint drying on a damn wall. They crawled into hours, and they languished like poetic lovers, taking their slow, sweet time. Each second was seemingly savored by the analog clock on the wall, the hands lingering far longer than they should.

A world in love with itself.

How disgustingly saccharine.

Though Dr. Reed was pretty damn sure that Yellow didn’t have a concussion, she was also pretty damn reluctant to let the businesswoman go until her head completely stopped pounding. For, even after she had woken up properly, the dull, localized jabbing hadn’t gone away, persisting around her temples.

A hangover headache.

“Perhaps,” Dr. Reed had hummed noncommittally, pressing a skeptical hand below her chin.

“Trust me,” Yellow returned darkly, rubbing the left side of her head tenderly with her middle finger. “I know when I have a hangover.”

But the batty woman still insisted that she stay, just so they could rule out the possibility of latent brain injury, which was why Yellow was currently hooked up to a banana bag as a means of working the last of Lagavulin out of her system.

Because, if it was indeed a hangover, this simple remedy would assuredly help with her headache.

And, well, if it wasn't, it would replenish her electrolytes at the very least.

Thrilling.

Situated in the chair next to Yellow’s bed, Poppy’s thin brow was woven together in concentration as she knitted what appeared to a lumpen, misshapen scarf—or was it a sweater?—her metallic needles clicking together every so often in the silence. The maid had arrived nearly an hour ago to bring her employer a set of pajamas to change into, as well as some paperwork from the CEO’s office. However, with her usual fumbling obsequiousness, she had insisted that she could stay for awhile.

She could attend to Yellow’s needs while her arm was out of commission.

Could satisfy her hourly duties.

But Yellow was no fool.

The slight woman did not linger out of the simple contract which existed between them as employer and employee. Indeed, she suspected that Poppy’s fidelity ran deeper than even that—that the maid dared to like her despite Yellow’s general sharpness of exterior, that she wanted to keep her company in a hospital room that was as empty as it was cold.

In the end, she supposed that she was… grateful for the implicit support.

She supposed, if she was forced to name an emotion at gunpoint, she would have no choice but to admit to her appreciation of someone who had been by her side, attendant to her every want, for nearly a decade.

But there was no steel barrel pressed against her tousled hairline, only the tinny clinking of those infernal needles and the occasional shuffling of papers as Yellow Diamond tried and subsequently failed to skim the brief the Zircons had left in her inbox. It was well-written—comprehensive—as it always was with Diamond Electric’s head attorneys, but what was an abstract lawsuit to the very real questions which tumbled ceaselessly across the furrows of the woman’s otherwise neatly tilled mind? What were words—nouns and verbs and adjectives—next to the torment of her wife’s almost touch?

To the simultaneous miracle and utter insanity of her sudden recovery?

Sick, angry, guilty, overcome, Yellow plucked her readers from the bridge of her nose and slapped them neatly on the tray next to her bed. The sudden thud startled Poppy from her knitting.

“D-did you need something, ma’am? Can I get you a glass of water? A snack from the vending machine?”

“No,” she snapped, and then, correctly interpreting the stung look on her maid’s face, she remembered herself.

She took a deep breath.

It wasn’t Poppy’s fault that her wife was doing better.

However…

“I mean,” she amended herself gruffly, “no thank you, Poppy… I do have a small favor to ask of you, though.”

“Yes, Mrs. Diamond?” She leaned forward in her chair, her scarf, sweater, or whatever it was flopping limply over her neatly crossed legs. “Anything.”

Gathering her thoughts in the very same way she gathered her lined fingers into a temple next to her stomach, Yellow thought to herself first that perhaps it was about time she gave her maid a raise.

Her second thought was the one she verbalized aloud, the question doled out in carefully measured words, nouns and verbs and a dash of barely repressed reluctance for good measure.

“That boy… Steven… he’s in this hospital, too, yes?”

#bellow diamond #blue diamond #yellow diamond #steven universe #garnet #amethyst #pearl #priyanka maheswaran #greg universe #s: steven universe #mimiku #flower child #oh my god i am exhausted #lapis lazuli #peridot

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welcometophu · 4 years

Text

Into the Split: Out of the Woods 2

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Out of the Woods 2

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The doorbell rings in the morning, shaking Nikolai from sleep. He is too warm to want to move, and at the same time his heart is pounding at the sound. Pawel pushes himself out of the recliner, stepping over sleepy people on his way to the door before he opens it.

“Del.”

“I slept in my car and it’s cold, so I’ve decided it’s late enough to wake you all up.” Del pushes through the door and she looks almost like Nikolai remembers from the Dreamscape. Only he can tell that this Del is real and solid and not at all affected by the way the Dreaming pulls on her mind.

It’s actually a good thing, seeing her like this. She seems more real than the rest of the world around him. His heart slows, and Seth’s hand on his thigh eases its grip.

Del sweeps the room with her gaze, brow furrowing. “Carolyn?”

“With Serina,” Pawel says. He threads his way through the room again, heading for the kitchen. “I’m making coffee. There isn’t enough food in this house for this crowd. Not after I was gone for two weeks.”

Del bites her lip, nodding as her gaze falls on Nikolai. “You made it through. Cool.”

“Maybe not cool if we can’t get back,” Seth mutters.

“You’re the anchor.” Del drops onto the couch, sliding her way under Nikita’s outstretched feet.

“Do you see how much better I am?” Nikita mumbles. “Like a couple months ago this would’ve resulted in a surprise ice storm. And kind of did. Del’s a Dreamwalker. She doesn’t have an Empath. She has… she has a Sam and a Shawn and Shawn’s kind of a dick.”

“But he’s my dick,” Del says mildly, wiggling her eyebrows. “And I left him home on purpose because I didn’t want him and Carolyn to get awkward. He’s still dealing with her truth bombs, even though he deserved them.”

Nikolai’s lost, but it seems to be a conversations everyone else understands, so he just nods along.

Nikita yawns and sits up slowly, untangling herself from where Heather is curled around her. They have to rearrange, and it takes enough time that everyone slowly emerges from their respective sleep cocoons.

Mac is in the other chair, curled into a small ball. Alaric, Rory, and Chris seem to have created some kind of a tangled pile on the floor, with Alaric curled around Chris, and Rory half on top of Alaric.

“God,” Nikita mumbles. “I’m glad it’s Sunday. I mean, it’s Sunday, right? I can’t even imagine just going back to classes like none of that ever happened. I have been to a whole other world and my professors are just going to be annoyed that I haven’t turned in two week’s worth of assignments and probably missed a ton of notes.”

“I haven’t been in school consistently since I was 8 or 9,” Nikolai says. “So. It all sounds weird to me. Even what they had going at Havenhill seemed weird.”

“We need food first,” Rory says. He sits up with his knees bent and arms looped around, his shoulders hunched. His frame is narrow and long, but hunched like that he seems to be making himself smaller. “Speaking as someone who is part of a group that does it all too often, you guys shouldn’t be making any major decisions—or having major discussions—if you haven’t eaten properly.”

“There was actually really good food in Havenhill,” Alaric says. “Like my home.” He leverages his way to his feet, pulling Chris with him. Together they’re big enough to feel like they fill the room. “We’re going to go shower.” He makes a disgruntled noise. “Should’ve brought back a change of clothes.”

Pawel returns just as Alaric and Chris disappear up the staircase. He just sighs and says nothing.

“You may have eaten yesterday but we’re all still hungry right now,” Rory points out.

“Teas Please,” Nikita says, and everyone nods like this makes sense somehow.

“Can they handle this large of a group on a Sunday?” Rory asks. “I’ve heard that Nate thinks we’ve got someone Talented who’s lucky enough that our table is always available when we need it but that doesn’t guarantee us space.”

“I’ll call in a reservation,” Heather offers, holding up her phone. “Carolyn says that Serina left for work this morning, so you know she’ll hold it for us if we give her enough warning.”

“I….” Pawel pulls his phone out of his pocket and stares at it. “I shouldn’t. I should hit the road and go pick up Conor and bring him home.”

Phones in a pocket, these tiny slim things. It’s been a long time since Nikolai’s seen working cell phones, and he didn’t recognize them at first. He’s starting to find his feet after an evening of being immersed in the culture of this world, but he still feels a bit like he’s floundering in the deep end.

Mac appears next to Pawel, snatches the phone from his hand, then reappears on the other side of the room. She taps the screen and the sound of ringing fills the room.

“Mac,” Pawel says quietly.

“Hello?” A man’s voice, low and deep.

“Mr. Szczek. This is Mac Palmer, from PHU. We’ve met. I work with your son in the taekwondo club,” Mac says. She blips to a different place in the room as Pawel stalks towards her. “Pawel’s fine, but he’s conflicted.”

“Call me John.” There’s the faintest hint of an accent when John speaks, but Nikolai can’t identify it. “Let me get Conor.”

Some shuffling sounds coming from the speaker. Pawel stops approaching Mac, simply stands in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. He holds out his hand, and Mac shakes her head.

“You aren’t going to be able to settle down until you talk to them both,” she says quietly. “So deal with this and talk to them. If you go home, you’re going to worry about what we’re getting up to. If you stay here, you’re going to worry about Conor. You need to find a way to stop worrying and focus, Pawel, because you’re already worn thin.”

“Hi, Dad!” A boy’s voice calls out. “Emma’s dads are picking me up soon. I’m going to go over to her place. She has four not-brothers and not-sisters, and her dads are really awesome. Her parents disappeared, too, just like you did. Or not just like, since I’m pretty sure you went somewhere kind of on purpose, and they didn’t. Can we help her find them after you’re done saving the world or whatever?”

A low chuckle from John underlines Conor’s words.

Nikolai can’t imagine being that calm about a disappearing—and returning—parent. He clenches his hand tight, easing when Seth covers his hand with his palm.

“What Conor’s trying to say is, we understand that you’re working on something world-shattering right now,” John translates, voice full of pride and affection. “Pawel, he’s fine here with me, and I’m fine having him here. Le—”

“Emma’s dads said I could visit any time I want if Dziadziu needs a break!” Conor yells. “I can even stay over, although they don’t have a lot of room. I think they need a new house, especially if they want more kids. Emma says they take them in from all over, all kinds of Talented kids who have problems. Jennie’s the baby, and she’s pretty cute. Emma’s the newest. I think she likes it there even though she says she doesn’t sometimes. I miss Alan, can you tell him I said hi? I think he and Emma would really like each other.”

“Do you talk faster when you can’t see me?” Pawel says dryly. “Slow down. Can I trust Emma’s dads?”

Silence for a moment, then John says in carefully measured words, “One works with me, the other’s a lawyer. They’re good people. They’ve got five foster kids, all Talents who don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I’ve got a really good teacher and I’m not doing any magic at school, and I hear the car. Gotta go. Love you, Dad!” Footsteps fading as Conor runs away, and a door slams in the distance.

“Does he even miss me?” Pawel mutters, pushing at his hair.

“Yes, he does.” John’s voice is soft and sober. “But he’s excited by everything, and he has a whole new Talented family for friends. Do you remember that time when you stayed with—”

“Okay, yeah, not going there.” Pawel cuts him off, fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose. “But I get your point. It’s possible to be upset and happy all at once and Conor’s found that balance. Are you sure—”

“Save the world. That’s what you’re doing, right?” John says.

Pawel glances at the others. Nikita shrugs her shoulders and Nikolai echoes the motion. He’s not sure what’s going on at this point.

“I think we’re trying,” Pawel replies quietly. His hand falls limply to his side, and he closes his eyes, exhaling. “I think we’ve got a chance of putting something back to rights, if we can just figure out how.”

“Will you be less stressed after?” John asks, and when Pawel nods, John continues as if he could see him. “Well, then just get it done. Conor and I are having a great vacation. He’s doing well in school, and Emma’s making sure he’s having a good time. And I think he’s good for her, too. She’s been struggling, and I know her dads have been worried about her settling in. So if you think of it that way, you’re doing her a kindness by letting him stay with me.”

Pawel lets out a rough laugh. “Okay, I get it. You keep my kid for a while.”

“And you deal with those students you think are your kids, too,” John says. “Mac, thanks for reaching out. Good to hear from you. You all keep each other safe.”

“We will,” Mac assures him. She touches the screen, then hands the phone back to Pawel. “There you go; decision made. We’re going to Teas Please to eat, continue acclimating Nikolai and Seth, and plan.”

The tension breaks after that, and the group cycles through the showers. Pawel cleans up, then offers his bathroom for them to use as well so they can get done twice as fast.

Everyone complains about having to put back on the same clothes they were wearing, but Nikolai and Seth are so used to doing so that it seems to be the one normal thing right now.

Then they step outside and his world abruptly turns upside down all over again.

Seth clutches at Nikolai’s hand, and he willingly gives it. Even having seen this world through Nikita’s eyes and dreams, it’s unsettling.

The neighborhood Pawel lives in makes Mikhail’s street in look abandoned. The cars parked along the street are new, bright and shining in the morning sun. More cars zip by along the road, and the sidewalk is neatly kept. The buildings are well-kept. Children play on lawns in the early spring warmth.

There are so many people. The festival was quiet compared to this, and this is only one small street.

And so many cars, all in constant motion. The noise is high, with people calling out. Knots of people walk along the street, waving and talking. Many of them seem to be around Nikolai’s and Seth’s age, and when one group yells, Chris raises a hand and waves back.

“You can imagine how empty your world seemed to us,” Nikita murmurs by his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get to Teas Please. It’ll still be crowded and noisy, but at least there will be food.”

“We’re just getting used to all of you.” Nikolai allows himself to be nudged along, Seth staying tight by his side. “This is… different. It’s so dreamlike because we had this once, but our lives haven’t been this way in a really, really long time.”

“And in our minds, this is the equivalent of unsafe,” Seth says quietly. “Cities are dangerous.”

“They aren’t dangerous here,” Nikita says. “And we aren’t going far. Pawel lives close to campus, and Teas Please is also close. It’s our favorite place to eat, and our friends work there.”

They’re moving slower than the others, and by the time they catch up, Chris stands there, holding a door open, and Nikolai trails after Nikita into the restaurant.

“Oh, hey, hello there new people.” A pretty Asian girl smiles and waves as she gathers together a stack of menus. “I’ve got your table in the back but I think you’re going to be pretty squeezed in there. I think Nate’s right about someone having a Talent to get this table because seriously someone just left it right before Heather called and I got the reservation tag on it just in time.”

“It’s always a different group,” Alaric points out.

“Aren’t you always involved?” Chris asks, and Mac snorts when Alaric growls at him.

“’M’not magical,” Alaric mutters. “Not like that.”

“Just where dragons are concerned,” Mac says, patting his shoulder on the way by. “We get it.”

There’s an ease to the group as they shuffle around, trying to figure out how to squeeze into the U-shaped bench around a long table. Pawel and Mac grab another empty table and add it to the end of the table. They bring over chairs for the one side and end of the table, the bench still going along the other side.

“Hi, I’m Serina, and I’m going to be your server.” Serina hands Nikolai and Seth menus while they wait for the others to arrange themselves.

“Seth and Nikolai,” Seth offers. He pulls out one of the chairs, and Nikolai takes it. He likes the idea of not being crushed with everyone else.

Del slides into the end of the U, with Heather and Nikita on one side and Chris and Alaric on the other side. Rory sits on the one end of the bench, next to Seth’s chair, and Pawel and Mac are on the bench opposite Seth. It’s tight, but not too bad, and Nikolai breathes more easily once the chaos is over.

He looks at the menu still in his hands. “Wait. We have to pay for this.”

“And you don’t have any money so obviously we’re paying,” Nikita says. “It’ll take some time to get you settled in to our world. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you both in the meantime.”

Nikolai bites his tongue. She still doesn’t understand that they’re leaving.

There is so much food. Nikolai doesn’t know where to start, and in the end, Mac gathers up all the menus and just starts ordering a little of everything. Six pots of tea for the table, along with more coffee. All kinds of different crêpes and sandwiches, several of them vegetarian, and she asks Serina to make sure all of them are cut into multiple pieces for sharing.

Serina collects the menus. “Of course!”

Seth is staring at the other patrons. “Don’t these people realize how much danger there is out there?” he asks in a hushed voice. “They don’t know the world could be ending if the Shadows come through here like they did at home. Or they don’t care.”

Serina makes a mis-step, knocking into Nikolai. She puts her hand on his shoulder, drops her stack of menus in his lap. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Hey, is Nate in today?” Mac asks. “I wanted to ask him something.”

Serina shakes her head, holding out her hands as Nikolai piles up the menus for her. “No, he’s off. He’ll be in tomorrow. He said he had a thing with his dad. I don’t think it made him happy.”

“Mm.”

Serina hugs the menus to her chest, but she doesn’t leave.

“Food?” Del calls out, and Serina startles.

“Oh. Yes. I’ll put in your order and it’ll be right out,” she says. But she still doesn’t leave, instead leaning closer to Nikolai and Seth. “My girlfriend Carolyn—you know her, right? With the cards. She’s really good with her cards. And she did a reading just before she disappeared, when she went to your world. And the last card in the reading was Death.”

Nikolai’s mouth drops open slightly. “She’s going to—”

“Oh, no, no!” Serina waves her hands, just barely catching the menus again. “Nobody’s going to die. Death means change. Carolyn’s reading was all about change, all kinds of change, and in the end, it meant that everything was changing. Everything. And you’re right, no one really sees it. And she told me about your home and that just—it scares me, even more. So um, if you’re here to help. Thank you.”

Change. Like stepping neatly from one world to another. Nikolai can almost see in his mind the card from the reading Carolyn gave him, the way it lay there on the table in front of him like it foretold this moment. Death sounds like another level of change, and when he layers it mentally with the Shadows—the Deathstalkers—it gives him chills.

“We’re here to help your world and ours at the same time,” Seth says, his hand on Nikolai’s back as he leans close. “And then we’re going home.”

“Oh, of course. Of course,” Serina says quickly.

“Food!” Dell calls again, more emphatic this time.

“Del,” Heather chides quietly, but Serina straightens up quickly.

“Yes, of course, it’ll be up soon. I’ll be out with tea as soon as we’ve got it steeping!” Serina turns on her heel, gone like a small whirlwind of motion.

“Refillable debit cards,” Pawel murmurs. “And Sera. We need Sera’s help, both for starting a Technopath network and for some technology to help you two fit in. And you, Del, and Nikita should see if you can begin to form a network in the Dreamscape, one that doesn’t swallow reality in.”

That’s why he’s here, after all. To fix things.

Nikolai glances at Seth. It feels like everything’s moving too quickly around him, and Seth is the only thing familiar and stable. He reaches out, holds on, because he needs his anchor more than everything.

There’s a voice in the back of his head that reminds him that this is all good, that it should feel right.

And there’s another, smaller, quieter voice that whispers that even forward motion can be wrong.

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peters-starks · 5 years

Photo

NUMBER NEIGHBOUR

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: when texting your number neighbour you got more than you bargained for.

Word Count: 4,059

Masterlist

The recent trend on Twitter of people texting their “number neighbour” the person who has the same phone number as them but with one number difference had become really popular in the past few days, so much so even the majority of your friends had now done it. So, when you were having a chill night in with two of your friends and they tried to persuade you to text your number neighbours you really weren’t surprised.

“Guys I’m not going to do it what if it’s some weirdo and they probably won’t even reply so it’ll be pointless” you chucked and shook your head.

“Come onnnn this movie is so boring and we’ve both already spoken to our neighbours so it’s your turn!” Your best friend, Merise, wasn’t wrong, this movie was like a YouTube comedy remake of an actual horror movie and frankly the acting was beyond awful.

“What happened to typical fun games like truth or dare” you yelped as your other friend, Amara, threw a pillow at you

“Just do it” they groaned at you going to reach for another pillow making you put your arms over you in defence whilst laughing

“Okay okay! I guess I have no dignity left to lose!”

All your friends gathered around your phone as you typed in your phone number and changed the last number at the end and selected the message option. You typed out a simple “hi” and then clicked send.

“Hi? Hi! That’s so boring” Amara groaned and Merise pinched her side

“What else were they gonna say?”

You shook your head at your overly energetic friends and stared at your screen for a moment longer with nothing happening. “I told you there would be no resp-”your words were cut short by a notification noise coming through and Merise grabbed your phone laughing.

UNKNOWN: hi? Who is this?

You groaned and watched as Merise tapped away and the sound of a message being sent shortly followed.

Y: I’m your number neighbour! Have you seen the trend online?

Your eyes widened at this. “OMG what if they’re like 90 years old? Or like 8? If they’re like underage isn’t this illegal I mean” you typed as you rambled your friends watching you in amusement.

Y: unless you’re like not online which is super fine and if you’re like really young then ignore this aha :)

“Honestly I don’t understand how your level of awkwardness can project through a screen that hard like I’m getting awkward radiation poisoning from this” Amara gaped at you making Merise chuckle and mumble something in agreement along the lines of ‘it’s not that deep’.

~|~

Peter was perched on his favourite rooftop taking a break to view the New York skyline at night, this being one of the reasons he loved patrolling in the evenings as nowhere else could you see this view. His phone vibrating caught his attention and he assumed it was Aunt May asking when he would be home as she was probably fretting about him swinging across the city, still not completely loving his new role but all the same supporting him to an endless amount.

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed when he saw an unknown number on his phone screen and swiped to open the message seeing a simple “hi”. The number looked vaguely familiar but at this point Peter was far too tired to place it. He replied cautiously and waited for the mystery person to answer him.

When his phone vibrated again he was mildly surprised by the two messages. His number neighbour! Peter secretly loved that trend online much to MJ’s dismay as she found it ‘pointless’ and had sent her number neighbour links to government conspiracies when they had text her to which she had no reply. Peter thought she just didn’t like the trend because she was upset she didn’t make a new conspiracy friend.

P: ohhhh, of course I know, hey neighbour! And don’t worry I’m not really young

P: well that depends what you class as really young, 13 is pretty old right?

P: lol kidding

Peter face palmed himself at that, god he was such a dork.

Y: Idk 13 is quite young when you’re 65

Y: I’m not actually 65 tho don’t worry

Y: how old actually are you tho lol

Peter smiled slightly sensing your mild anxiety at texting a stranger and honestly it was most the reason he hadn’t done it yet because knowing his luck he’d message a child and have some very unhappy parents at his door.

P: I’m 18 wbu

Y: snap!

P: thank god! Are you from New York?

Y: yup lived here for a couple of years now, I take it you are too?

P: Queens

Your two friends squealed as you found out this stranger lived surprising close to your apartment.

“Ask them their name! We might know them considering they’re so close” Merise squealed slightly. Honestly you just thought she was like a puppy who was excited to meet new people.

Y: so neighbour what’s your name if you don’t mind me asking?

Peter hesitated at this for a second as even though his identity was hidden, only those the very closest to him knowing him as Spider-Man, giving his name to someone over text who literally could be anyone seemed risky. However, he doubted that any random government agent or evil bad guy would know of number neighbours or be able to joke around so easily.

P: Peter, what’s yours?

Y: Hi Peter from Queens, I’m y/n.

Amara braced herself for Merise’s literal yell at finding out the person you were texting was not only the same age and from nearby but also A BOY.

“I BET he’s cute, he seems nice over text and dorky so he’s gotta be cute ugh” Merise winked at you after her small speech and you simply rolled your eyes.

“I’m sure he is, if he’s who he says he is” you started staring at your screen waiting for his reply. Time passed and after 40 minutes you gave up on checking your phone screen every 10 minutes waiting for Peter to answer you. He probably got bored of texting a stranger which you wouldn’t blame him. The internet came up with weird trends.

Just as you let your friends out as it was way past the time they were supposed to leave as you had school the next day, your phone had another text notification.

P: hi y/n :)

You smiled faintly at this because Merise was kind of right, Peter sounds like a bit of a dork.

Y: do you go to school in New York?

Y: that’s if you’re in school aha

P: yea I go to Midtown actually

Your eyes widened slightly as that was Amara’s school whilst you and Merise went to one a couple miles away from Midtown.

Y: no way! My friend goes there. You must be pretty smart. I go to the next school over.

P: nice! Guess we really aren’t too far away then.

A few hours passed and you and Peter were still texting back and forth, knowing you both really should be asleep but the conversation flowed so well that time passed without any realisation. Which you both paid for when school started the next day.

Y: I.am.so.tired.

P: I literally slept through 3 alarms and coffee isn’t working. Help.

Y: at least you don’t have a bio test today I’m honestly screwed.

P: if you need bio help I’m actually kind of a nerd with that stuff. Text me the questions secretly ;)

Y: oh yea totally not noticeable.

You smiled and rolled your eyes at Peters texts catching Merise’s attention. “Still texting Queens boy, are we?” She nudged your shoulder and winked at you.

“Maybe I am” you tried to answer with a straight face but honestly it was difficult.

Throughout the day, you and Peter exchanged small texts here and there, both your friends seemed to notice you being glued to your phones more than usual.

When school ended, you went home and tried to get your school work done but honestly nothing was going in so you opted for aimless scrolling for a while. The top of your newsfeed was an alert of Spider-Man ending yet another Robbery only a few blocks away from your apartment which usually you took no notice of but it was the bank your parents used so it caught your attention more than usual.

Y: yknow I think I’m going to need that study help, literally everything is distracting me. Including bank robberies! Not even Spider-Man can save my grades this semester.

P: you never know, Spider-Man is probably pretty good at bio.

Peter laughed at himself, inside jokes about his identity really were the only enjoyable part about hiding himself from the people around him. He was sat back on the rooftop from last night trying to rest up his side as he took a pretty hard blow from one of the robbers and certainly has a bruise. He remembered Ned saying a solution to help bruising the other day and decided to ask him and without looking dialled.

“Hello?”

Ok. So that isn’t Ned.

“Peter is that you...”

When you saw peter was ringing you it confused you but you did ask him for study tips so maybe he was saving your ass via phone call.

Peter froze when he heard your voice, checking his phone and seeing “y/n” on the screen. God, he must’ve selected your contact instead of Neds since he was thinking about you.

“Oh um hi sorry I meant to phone my friend about some bruise stopping thing but I must’ve called you by mistake”

“Bruise stopper?” You cocked your head in confusion. “Do I even want to know” you chucked slightly. Hearing Peters actual voice was kind of weird but as much as you hated to admit it even his voice sounded cute to you.

“Ah um I kind of ran into a wall aha yea like super hard” Peter literally wanted to dive bomb off the roof top, god his awkward rambles always revealed too much. And a wall?? Who’s going to believe that.

“Right a wall... clumsy I take it”

“Yeah you could say that” peter laughed lightly.

“Well don’t ask how I know this but cold compress it on and off and apply Arnica gel a few times a day and Aloe if you want to be extra careful”

Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise a thought going through his head that you weren’t some secret vigilantly too or worse maybe some villain. “I won’t ask don’t worry but um thank you”

You smiled gently “you’re welcome Peter from Queens”

“Well i guess if you’re curing my bruising you can call me Peter Parker instead of Peter from Queens”

“Well Peter Parker, y/n y/l/n”

Peter smiled more until his cheeks hurt under his mask as you carried on speaking to each other, hearing your voice somehow made you more real to Peter and speaking to you was relaxing. You didn’t know him as Peter Parker quiet nerd from Midtown or as the rookie avenger that kind of went to space and saved the world but also helps old ladies cross the road. You knew him as Peter, number neighbour and hopefully at this point friend. Getting to know someone new was really a breath of fresh air.

It was getting late again and honestly you don’t think you can go another day of school with next to no sleep no matter how much you loved speaking to Peter. And so you and peter began to say your goodnights.

“It was really nice speaking to you today Peter, like actually speaking to you”

“Yea it was really nice speaking to you too... maybe we can do it again sometime?”

“You can call me whenever, especially if you are gonna help me with studying orrr if you need anymore bruises to heal” you smiled as you spoke, the tiredness etching into your body slowly. “Well, goodnight Peter Parker”

“Goodnight y/n”

Over the next two weeks you and Peter spoke every single day, most the time through texts and mainly through meme’s as well as evening phone calls. Sometimes Peter would have to leave the call abruptly with weird excuses which made you suspicious, Merise said it’s probably a girlfriend he doesn’t want you to know about but Amara shut that down saying that she doubts it. Amara also went to midtown with Peter but had no classes with him and barely knew his face, she said her friend said he was probably the guy with the Stark internship. When you asked Peter about the internship he got nervous and stuttered a lot which confused you but you convinced yourself it was because there was lots of Top Secret Avengers stuff he had to be careful with.

“I’m so jealous you get to work with the avengers y’know? I’ve always loved those guys, like how cool would it be to have some kind of power and be able to save people?” You gushed to Peter one evening which honestly made him blush a bit. You were a bit of a superhero nerd too.

“Yea it must be pretty cool” Peter tried to keep the tone in his voice even but Karen quickly informed him that his voice indicated excitement and anxiety.

“Have you met many avengers? Have you met Thor? He’s a literal god I mean even meeting Tony Stark alone must have been amazing I’ve always found him so interesting like he’s was so clever and he saved us all like literally! Oh god and SPIDER-MAN he’s just so cool because he’s like our thing you know? Like a New York special hero” you were also blushing as you spoke realising you were fully geeking out to a guy you’d never even met and he probably thought you were a total avengers fan girl.

“Yea Spider-Man is pretty cool, Thor is awesome though! The dude is massive! And Mr Stark was just a great guy y’know? I kinda owe him everything” Peters heart dropped a bit at mentioning Tony but talking about him kept his memory alive in Peter’s eyes, and that’s the least he could do for him.

“Right yea, sorry I didn’t even think, I’m so sorry for your loss, he was such a great man” you cringed at yourself for not thinking. Of course Peter would’ve been affected by losing Tony.

“No no it’s okay, I mean you and me wouldn’t be here without what he did so we all owe him one, it’s good to acknowledge it, bet it feeds his ego a bit really” Peter laughed a bit trying to lighten the mood and make you feel less bad. You had both previously spoken about the Snap as both of you had disappeared for those 5 years and late night discussions had run into the early mornings as you had heart to hearts about its tolls on you both. You both found it so easy to talk to each other it was like you’d known each other for years even though you’ve never even seen each other face to face before, both being too awkward to even suggest meeting.

-|-

You knew it was a bad idea to walk home alone so late, but the extra studying was highly needed as Peter couldn’t make your evening phone call to help you study your math quiz tomorrow and if you failed it one more time you were in serious trouble. The lampposts illuminated just enough of the street for you to feel safe-ish but speed walking was definitely needed.

You were only a block away from your apartment when you got that feeling. It was deep in your gut and it made you shiver. Something was wrong and you couldn’t put a finger on what it was. You turned your head slightly to look around you and at a first glance you saw nothing however a shadow moving in one of the alley ways made your hair on your arms stand up. This was a big nope.

You grabbed your phone and kept it close to you ready to call for help as footsteps started coming behind you. However as a rough hand grabbed your shoulder pulling your whole body backwards with a tell your phone was knocked out your hand, tumbling towards the ground like your hope of getting through this.

Your eyes closed in terror as a small object was pushed against your back. Who knew studying would literally be the death of you.

“What’s in the bag” the voice was rough and desperate causing you to hold your breath. “Give me the bag”

You turned slowly, hands up and faced the man, his face was covered by some makeshift white mask and a black beanie covered his hair, the small black handgun being pointed at you was shaking slightly in his gloved hands.

You slowly moved your backpack off your shoulders and moved it in front of you, dropping it to the ground and using you foot to push it towards the masked man. Just as the man moved to pick it up a blue and red blur zoomed past you eyes, knocking the man to the wall and his gun became stuck to it by some webbed material. Webbed material. SPIDER-MAN.

“Hey I don’t think that belongs to you” the voice spoke sounding weirdly altered.

The robber attempted to swing at the spandex covered hero but missed as Spider-Man ducked and then proceeded to pull him back with webbing as he tried to flee.

“You know I think an apology would be in order for this” the robber simply muttered a “fuck you” under his breath to which Spider-Man tutted and webbed the guy to the wall before whispering inform the authorities and turning to you.

“Um hey sorry about this, are you okay miss..” the hero was shorter than you thought standing taller than you but not by a huge amount and his posture seemed almost awkward as he scratched the back of his head waiting for your reply.

“Oh um y/n” you whispered, trying your best to process your brush with death and also not crying in front of your favourite hero.

At the mention of your name the eyes of Spider-Man widened and he seemed to freeze. Peter was shocked. Y/n? As in his y/n? Your voice sounded the same but surely not and he almost hoped not considered what just happened, what if he didn’t get here on time? Oh god I mean he thought you were pretty but this pretty? And everything that just happened you must be so terrified and right before your math quiz...

You saw the hero frozen in place and became instantly confused. “Um... are you okay?” At this he seemed to snap out of it and laughed slightly.

“I think that’s my line you know” Peter once again realised he fucked up as his voice changer was no longer on, Karen must disabled it when Peter froze and he bet she did it on purpose knowing full well who you are.

When Spider-Man spoke your eyebrows furrowed because that voice sounded oh so familiar but you could only place it to one person.

“Right yea um I’m okay I should probably get home I have school tomorrow” you nervously nodded hoping he would say something else so you could confirm it.

“Of course yea um, is it okay if I walk you home? Just to make sure you’re safe?” Peter knew there was no turning back, you’d either figure it out or you wouldn’t and there was no way he was going to let you carry on walking home alone after this.

“Um... that’d be nice actually, thank you”

On the walk home not much was said, Peter tried not to say something accidentally and completely reveal himself whilst you were wrapped up in thinking about what just happened to you and the fact not only was Spider-Man walking you home but you’re pretty sure he is your mystery friend Peter Parker.

When you arrived at your apartment you thanked the Webster and watched him swing off into the New York skyline and then took your phone out and dialled the only number you could think of.

“Hello? Everything okay?” Peter sounded out of breath which was very convenient and he also sounded worried which if you weren’t already so suspicious you wouldn’t take note of.

“You’re not going to believe the evening I’ve had” you went on to explain your half robbery slash attack and Spider-Man’s dramatic entrance and you have to admit Peter is a good actor, although his concern for your emotional well-being seemed to consume his efforts in hiding his fake shock at Spider-Man turning up.

“Yea it was so weird like I’m totally okay but I can’t figure out what’s the strangest thing, being saved from a robbery by Spider-Man or finding out Spider-Man is my number neighbour you know” you bit your lip with anticipation as you spoke.

“Well yea u mean it sounds like a strange nigh- wait what” God Peter was so stupid of course you knew! He would recognise your voice anywhere so why wouldn’t you recognise his? “I’m-I’m not Spider-Man I m-mean that’s ridiculous” and he stuttered. Good job Peter.

“Yea I mean Stark internship? Knowing the avengers and Spider-Man and you sharing a voice is a lot of coincidence huh? It was nice to finally meet you Peter” you didn’t sound offended or angry from what Peter could tell you actually sounded humoured which made him breathe a sigh of relief.

“Go to your roof top” and with that the line went dead.

Five minutes later you were stood on the rooftop of your apartment complex, glad the door was old and easily pushed open. The hoodie you threw on barely kept you warm from the winds that bashed around you but that was all forgotten as Spider-Man , Peter , landed on the roof next to you.

“Hey” you smiled and nervously tucked some hair behind your ear as he got closer.

“Um hi” Peter said, approaching you slowly whilst being kind of unsure.

“I know your identity is a big thing and I promise I won’t tell anyone about this but I couldn’t pretend I didn’t know and I mean it’s pretty cool but also awkward because I can’t BELIEVE you let me geek out about the avengers and YOURSELF to you for ages and didn’t say ANYTHING I mean wha-“ you were cut short by Peters body colliding with yours in a kind of awkward but sweet hug. He smelt really good.

When he pulled away you cleared your throat and muttered a sorry. Peter only laughed and lifted his hands up to take his mask off. Underneath he was a lot cuter than you expected, honestly you had to hold in a gasp. His brown hair was floppy and curly, slightly messy from the mask, and his jawline was sharp framing his face and his brown eyes honestly were breath-taking as cliché as it sounds.

“It’s nice to finally meet you too” Peter said playing with his fingers nervously “you um you’re prettier than I thought wait not that I thought you wouldn’t be pretty but I mean you’re just wow like super pre-“ this time peter was interrupted as your arms wrapped around his neck and you kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you. For um saving my life earlier and all, who knew Spider-Man could not only save my life but also save my grades by helping me study” you both chucked at that.

For the rest of the evening you sat on the roof top and enjoyed finally being around each other. The conversation was a lot easier in person, mostly because of the flirty body language and the fact Peters eyes told such a story. By the end you were nearly asleep on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your torso to help keep you warm and you both silently enjoyed watching the New York skyline at night. Peter had found a new favourite roof top.

++++++++++++++

OKAY SO my first one shot on this account because the most stupid things inspire me, including twitter trends. i hope you like it as i wasn’t too sure with this one and feel like its a bit rough here and there but overall i enjoyed the concept too much to put it aside.

Add yourself to my taglist

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mega-dasilva92-stuff-blog · 4 years

Text

Race Drivers: Overcoming The Fear Of Marketing Yourself

Dread.

Dread can be a remarkably broken and harming thing. I have encountered it typically in my life and my business. Dread of progress, dread of the dull, dread of being criticized or even trashed. Dread of thwarted expectation. Dread of exploring another region in isolation. Dread of not accomplishing something right. Dread of removal bill hynes .

As race drivers, you tie into a surprising machine going at high speeds against other picked drivers with stunning machines - and at whatever point can crash, turn over, burst into blasts and possibly get injured. Those that don't discover sometimes think you are insane, correct? Notwithstanding, YOU can put that FEAR insane reliably and take to the movement holding up be done - why? Since you LOVE to race. It's your obsession. You put the dread insane considering the way that you make certain about what you do and you are made arrangements to win.

Concerning showing and progress, many race drivers disclose to me that they would slant toward not to do it since they simply get turned down and ousted by potential supporters, so they surrender. Or of course they have used individuals to do this for them with close by zero outcomes. Or on the other hand they basically don't have the foggiest idea how. This prompts the dependable battle financially to continue running every week. By then your essentialness can now and again become upsetting and astounding.

I acknowledge where you are coming from! I comprehend what it resembles to have a vitality for something and you need to prop it up or get to the following stage - in any case you are basically stuck - and dubious on the off chance that you try it and bomb you will be more grievous off than as of now. That is dread. Dread is the thing that keeps us from achievement in anything we do.

With advancing and impelling yourself as a driver to fans and promoters with an extreme goal to pull in supporting for your running - Ask yourself these solicitation:

Who or what is holding you down?

Not certain how to begin?

Delivered of coming up short?

Take the necessary steps not to see how propelling limits?

For what reason wouldn't I have the alternative to simply race and supporters discover me?

Or on the other hand is this you:

I essentially like driving and I am not enchanted by the progressing.

In any event, when I try to push I truly don't go any place.

I am too included to even think about evening consider evening think about promoting and advance - possibly I can discover somebody to do it for me.

I am a lot of reluctant and not the dynamic sort. I will surrender the showing over to various individuals.

I couldn't mind less to show up similarly as I am referencing a freebee.

I couldn't think about pushing myself it makes me look prideful.

I am hesitant to request help since I may look awkward.

Advancing costs cash - I have to put all that I got into my race vehicle.

I need more trust in my capacities and no one is going to need to support me.

This is dread conversing with you. Executing you. Shielding you from pushing ahead. You should change your attitude. Much equal to when you lash into that race vehicle to go for the Victory and you put dread insane - you should do in like way with progressing. Approach it similarly you do your running.

Open your cerebrum to learning - changing, referencing help - arranging yourself into the framework and interfacing more with fans - you will be surprised at how a lot of begins to return to you!

You can't do what you dread, and you can't do what you don't have the foggiest idea. You KNOW you need cash to race. You KNOW it takes exceptional sponsors and trinket courses of action to an immense fanbase. In any case, by what method may you get it? By what method may you begin and tail it?

1.) Change your attitude - approach publicizing as you do when you lash in for a race - watch out for triumph and don't surrender. In the event that you have thwarted expectation, fix the issue and let it immovable once more. Right when you land that first help - you get a similar surge you would when you win a race and it will move you to prop up for extra.

2.) Educate yourself. Recognize what you can about showing and movement, much comparable to building an unmatched stun or a prevalent race vehicle set up, advance past the test, get your propelling edge!

3.) Seek out guides - search for changed drivers who have been convincing with their advancing and requesting counsel, much equal to you would from the ones who are running remarkably at a specific track or course of action.

4.) Step away from the running tool kit a few days consistently and utilize your showing gadget compartment, for example, the telephone, email, social affiliations, and veritable eye to eye dealing with.

5.) Dispel the pessimism and old considerations concerning publicizing, movement and getting sponsorship - approach it with an awakening air. Destroy the old stuff in your cerebrum and start new.

6.) Just do it. Bounce in with two feet - the contamination water will unavoidably get settled! The more you do it the more it winds up being a touch of you, and less hard to do on the off chance that you make it arrangement.

7.) Be creative. Throw in things that you comprehend you recognize as a part of your progressing. Sort out a philanthropy golf organize with neighborhood business visionaries, or a seeking after excursion. For lively racers, set up a social affair outing with kids and guardians or child inviting relationship in your general vicinity to go karting or even host a noteworthy pizza get-together at one of your races. For female drivers you could accomplish something with ladies business visionaries, similar to a philanthropy design appear.

8.) Get more help on your race vehicle so you can open up more noteworthy opportunity to plug and push yourself and your race gathering. Discover near to mechanics or discretionary school understudies in capable schools for mechanical or vehicle and check whether they ought to be a volunteer on a race gathering - give them a gathering shirt and pit pass, race tickets for their family. You would be dazed who will help only for the experience!

9.) Have some enjoyment with your showing and you will esteem doing it! Get your fantastic associates included and make it part of your open development. You will be shocked what number of more partners you will make, fans you will get and support will begin to glance through you out on the off chance that they see that it is a dumbfounding encounter for their clients to associate with you! Before you know it you will esteem showing and progress and you will feel that its fantastic and fun!

10.) Fear? What dread. Race drivers are daring. Put everything in question! You can do it!

A part of my favored declarations about dread:

"The essential worry to fear can't abstain from being dread itself" - Franklin D. Roosevelt

"Fears are told into us, and can, on the off chance that we wish, be told out".

- Karl Augustus Menninger

"Dread is also as huge as the mind awards".

- Japanese Proverb

"You increment quality, mental grit, and affirmation by each relationship with which you truly stop to look dread in the face. You should accomplish the thing which you figure you can't do".

- Eleanor Roosevelt

"Inaction breeds powerlessness and dread. Development breeds sureness and mental quality. In the event that you need to vanquish dread, don't sit home and consider it. Go out and get included".

- Dale Carnegie

"Never be reluctant to have a go at something new. Keep in mind, novices gathered the ark, pros fabricated the Titanic".

- Unknown

"It's difficult to have Faith and Fear simultaneously." - Jackie Pegram (My mentor and Bible assessment educator)

I had my very own estimations of nervousness to look in my PR and Marketing work. Right when I was new to the NASCAR scene in the mid 90's - I felt that it was impeccable to watch out assistants and increment from similarly as can be typical discover who are happy to assist you with learning the ropes. This gave me the sureness I expected to work prominently for my drivers, supporters and get-together.

I am here to uncover to you that I have vanquished different assumptions of nervousness. I have been from your viewpoint. I have constantly vanquished my feelings of dread so I could continue framing and pushing ahead into more prominent achievement.

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randomwoohoo · 6 years

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Hello there, folks! Happy pride month! Let our colors shine!! Hope ya enjoy this chapter~

Nick: Previously on Zoomorphia

Judy: Ever since Savages appeared for the first time in Zootopia, many mammals have suffered various kinds of hardships. Although the city is already troubled by the monsters, there still are plenty of robberies, kidnappings, illicit trades, et cetera. While some officers were assigned to join Savage Control Unit, each of us, who still remain in police force, must undertake more tasks.

Nick: Good grief, not like I’m lack of sympathy or anything but shouldn’t mammals help out each other in a difficult situation, not wreck havoc, even if they fell victim to Savages’ attack?

Judy: Incidentally, we encountered a weird Savage. Despite not being highly mutated, it sure wasn’t an easy target, not to mention… bomb suicide.

Nick: It’s just because this one is small and slightly swift, so we had trouble dealing with it. If I had got little more serious, we would have defeated it, and yet it blew up first… literally.

Judy: Hey Nick

Nick: What, Carrots?

Judy: How did I end up in your hug at the beginning of the previous chapter anyway?

Nick: Oh look! We must get to this chapter now!

Judy: C’mon Nick! Tell me!

Nick: Now the chapter 8!!

Fanfiction link

.-.. . - .----. ... / -.-. --- -. - .. -. ..- .

A few days later, Judy, dressed in her uniform, was reading papers in the police office cubicle, which was what she was supposed to do, but actually, she was busy thinking another thing.

Mammals reported to SCU that Savages with fighting with Hybrid while Nick and I were somewhere else… Impossible! How did it happen? Giving false evidence? But SCU team won’t flocked to the scene, unless they confirm the statement. Therefore, falsehood is out of the question.

Was it misunderstanding? Then again, who would mistake an armored mammal ,capable of defeating Savages alone, for somebody else?

“Overthinking about that whole the other day stuff?” Judy’s fox partner with rolled-up uniform sleeves and loosened tie was sitting on an office chair next to her.

“Sorry, I know I should focus on the case, still it keeps bugging me.” She apologized, ears drooping.

For the past few days, most of the works were checking cctv footage and finding the clips that had missing parts. Fortunately, they did not require much thought.

On the other hand, when it comes to searching for the relation among these clips, it is a task which undeniably demands analyzing.

Rabbit officer had trouble reading the papers that she together with the fox collected information for since she constantly got distracted to think about Hybrid matter and also... the one odd Savage.

“About that monster we fought with… Its movements, its actions, they all were clearly abnormal.” She stroked her chin, frowning.

“Tell me about it. Although dumb dumb Savages aren’t brainless creatures, that one acted beyond primal instincts.” He put his paws behind his head, leaning against a backrest.

“Who can we ask about this?” She fell face down on table, arms pushing papers aside lightly. “Mr. Know-everybody, are you familiar with someone that knows about Savages?” She was dispirited.

“Umm… Let’s see, someone that probably knows Savages pretty well huh?” Nick’s index finger digital pad tapped the tip of his mouth before he snapped his fingers. “Oh! How about Professor!?”

Judy instantly lifted her head and quickly turned her face to Nick, “He’s already woken from coma!?” getting all worked up.

“Not sure. I have no clue~” He replied, shrugging.

“Then why did you mention him!?” She was still worked up but in upset way this time.

“Well, you asked me “am I familiar with some Savage experts?”.” Nick did an air quotes gesture, giving an obnoxious smug.

Judy rolled her eyes in response, sighing deeply. She went back to face lying down on the table.

“Are you ok? You look tired.” In spite of his usual frivolous tone, Nick’s facial expression grew solemn.

“Mentally tired. Thanks to you...” Judy was not even bothered looking at him.

A knock at the cubicle wall startled the doe. Consequently, she leapt to her partner’s lap. Momentum from a leap made tod’s chair rotate towards a mammal who just knocked on panel.

“Uhh, Hopps... Wilde...” That mammal was none other than their superior, Chief Bogo. He was bewildered by his officers’ action.

“Ch-Ch-Cha-Chift!” Judy hastily got off Nick’s lap to stand upright.

“Come to my office now.” Ignoring what had just happened, Bogo led the duo to his office.

Along the way, the red fox talked with the European rabbit quietly enough that the Cape buffalo was less likely to hear them.

“Carrots, what was that?”

“I really dunno. It seems… I’m used to feeling that if something happens, I must protect your body first.”

“Good grief… I had no idea since when I became the damsel-in-distress.”

It may turn out that the bunny developed a habit of protecting fox’s body owing to experiences of looking after his senseless body while being Hybrid.

The buffalo came to a halt even though they had not reached his office yet. The duo stopped as well, then poked their heads from behind the buffalo to see what brought their chief to a standstill.

“What’s your secret to looking so young, sir?”

“Oh please, Clawhauser~ You’re flattering me~ It probably has to do with my small size.”

“I still can’t believe Director Mickey is in mid-50’s. I initially misthought you’re younger than Chief Bogo.”

“Is that so, Fangmeyer? Ha ha. Oh hi pal~”

While Mickey Mouse (Director of DIB), Benjamin Clawhauser (a receptionist and a radio dispatcher of ZPD) and Jasmine Fangmeyer (SCU agent) were chit chatting at a reception desk, the director turned to say hi to the duo. Moreover, he stood on the desk, so he could talk to larger mammals easier.

“Mouse..., why you aren’t waiting in the office??” Bogo sounded somewhat surprised to see Mickey outside his office.

“Waiting alone is rather boring. That’s why I came out here~ Thank you two for keeping me company.”

“My pleasure, sir! Still, you seriously look so young! It’s unbelievable that you actually are older than chief.”

Clawhauser’s comment impelled Bogo to touch his own face in order to check wrinkles.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Director Mickael Mouse.” Judy raised her right paw to salute, so did Nick.

“Come on~ It’s just Mickey~” Mickey chuckled mildly.

The duo, as well as their chief, approached the desk.

“How can we help you?” Nick conjectured why Bogo called him and Judy to his office. In addition, he reckoned that Director Mouse was possibly wanting something from them.

“Let’s cut to the chase then~ I’d like to ask you a favor to participate in a school assembly.”

“What kind of assemblies, sir?” Judy quizzed.

“Well, you see~ We at DIB, ZPD and SCU must have a responsibility to educate children about dangers in society.”

“But why specify us?�� Nick also inquired.

“You two are packed with fame, perfectly fit for representing police public image~” Mickey gave a thumbs up. “Besides, you look tired, Hopps. Taking a break from the cases and doing this work instead doesn’t sound bad, don’t ya think?” He gave the other thumbs up.

Judy felt like Mickey said the last part about looking tired just to convince her to join in the assembly.

“We’d love to participate but-”

Once she uttered the word ‘but’, Bogo interrupted.

“The world has always been broken; therefore, we need good cops, like you, to guide future generation.” He patted Judy on the shoulder, gazing upon the duo.

Why does it sound extremely familiar? She doubted.

He’s simply trying to not upset Director Mouse, isn’t he? Nick wondered.

Seeing that the bunny balked at helping out, “It’ll be fun to work together, don’t cha think?” Jasmine stepped in to convince them as well.

“I’ll go along too.” Clawhauser said.

“Yeah. You’re great with kits, Ben.” Tigress complimented the cheetah.

As for the doe, she sensed pressure from everyone on her and Nick.

“It’s not like I don’t wanna go. It just so happens Nick and I haven’t completed analysing cctv footage related to missing mammal-”

At that moment, a pair of cops, wearing police overcoats, entered through the doorway.

The bengal tiger officer with winter turban on his head was shivering while “Tundratown is bloody cold.” complaining in Indian English accent, which actually is his natural accent and fits his tongue the most. He still had not recovered from a chill to the bone.

“Aren’t you used to patrolling that district yet? It’s been many months.” A bear, walking beside the tiger, said.

“I stand by my point, Mr. Polar bear.” He switched to an American accent.

“For the last time, despite my white fur, I’m a grizzly bear just like my parents.” The polar bear argued sincerely.

The tiger averted his eyes, not bothered to correct his partner’s belief, then noted mammals gathering around the reception desk. He subsequently met tigress’ eyes coincidentally.

“Jackson!” Jasmine the bengal tigress loped to greet Jackson Rajah the bengal tiger with a friendly hug. “Why didn’t ya tell me you come here today!?”

“Ahh Umm aarr...” The zoned out tiger’s heart beat fast. Freezing in place, he barely prepared himself for a very warm welcome from a certain mammal he did not expect running into.

“I’m gonna go ahead. Later, amigo~” The snickering bear walked away.

“Wait! Where are you going!?” Regaining his senses, the tiger shouted.

“Hi Grizzoli!”

“Hi Fangmeyer~” The white bear greeted the tigress (his former teammate) back as he ignored his current feline partner, leaving him behind.

“So… What’s up with you guys gathering here?” The more awkward Rajah felt, the stiffer he became.

“Here the thing.” Jasmine led him to others, paw in paw. “We’re inviting Jude and Wilde to a school assembly. However, she said they’ve not finished analysis yet.” She summarized the situation.

“If it’s about the missing mammal cases...” Once he perceived that he was still holding Jasmine’s paw, he pulled his paw out promptly, “L-let me help you...” hurriedly budging away from her.

“But Jackson, you just patrolled all night.” Clawhauser mentioned. As a secretary, he pretty much memorized most of other officers’ shifts.

“Eh? You must be worn out. Shouldn’t you head home for now?”

“Getting some rest in a nap room and I’ll be ready to get back at work.” Rajah answered Jasmine, smiling to relieve her concern.

“Thanks bud! You are our hero!” She gave the tiger another hug which made him tense up again and slightly blush.

On the plus side, we apparently don’t have to worry about the cases. Judy considered optimistically. “Okay, I’ll join.” She agreed to help out.

“Count me in~” Nick planned to tag along after her, no matter what decision she chose. If she decided to take part in the assembly, he would participate too.

“It’s settled then. Sorry to bother you.” Bogo sighed with relief, casting his gaze on two small officers.

On the cheetah side, he glanced at the chief, ears bending limply, mouth turning down with a slight pull to the corners. His expression was subtle enough that no one noticed.

“Thanks for your sacrifice, you...” The mouse director intended to say the bengal tiger’s name. Unfortunately, he did not know the officer’s name.

“Rajah, Jackson Rajah.” Tiger introduced himself.

“You have such high spirits, Rajah~” Mickey beamed at Rajah. Jackson Rajah… His name sorta rings a bell…

.-- .... .- - / .-- . / . -..- .--. .-. . ... …

At one local elementary school in Downtown, two SCU agents (Fangmeyer the bengal tigress and Keaton the Andalusian horse), Three ZPD officers (Clawhauser the cheetah, Hopps the European rabbit and Wilde the red fox) and a teal-colored platypus DIB agent called an assembly in a gymnasium, standing respectively in front of children sitting on the stands. Between the large spotted cat and the bunny was a Savage slide show projected on a protector screen

Nick was dressed appropriately under the circumstances, neat and tidy, unrolled sleeves and tightened necktie.

They were in middle of educating students about the monsters, Savages.

“Alright. Now, everybody understands what Savages are and how dangerous they can be. But you see, some of them may look similar to us, mammals. Who could give me an answer about the difference between Savages and mammals?” After adults provided a basic explanation of the monsters, Jasmine asked the children.

She picked the kids who raised their paws to answer one at a time.

“Those monsters are all purple!”

“Our eyes only glow in the dark, while theirs also glow in daylight.”

“Their saliva drip everywhere.”

“Yours too”

A child teased another child, resulting in titters from the rest. Hence, a teacher got them to pipe down.

“They all act savage!”

“No, duh. Captain Obvious.” One student replied, causing the young mammals on stands to burst out laughing.

ZPD officers, including the former one, giggled at how children behaved, which reminded them of their childhood.

“Well done!” Feline SCU agent complimented young mammals.

After that, Clawhauser, the other feline, added. “On top of that, we all can walk on two feet and talk but Savages, of course, cannot.” He displayed a friendly manner.

“At any rate, supposing you kits, cubs, pups spot injured Savages, you should stay away from them because they have a high pain tolerance-” Jasmine paused a bit to check whether the elementary school students understood the vocabulary or not. “-and can heal rapidly. It’s not safe to get close to them even though they’re severely injured.” She warned.

Shortly afterward, Judy stated further details. “It might be hard to distinguish those monsters being wounded in the first place, since they don’t bleed, more likely that they are unable to..., unlike when we get hurt. For instance, if we trip and fall, we will bleed and it will take some time for wounds to be completely healed after cleaning them and putting on bandage.”

Maximus the SCU team leader attempted to educate kids as well. “The other major difference is that when we die, our hearts stop, no more breathing, we’ll fall into an eternal slumber, not be able to move any longer…, except if tendons or muscles jerk, which results in corpses twitching.”

Slowly turning their heads, other adults glared at the stallion. Jasmine had already predicted this, knowing her boss did not have bad intentions but sometimes, he could come across as a not quite kid-friendly guy.

“I’m not sure whether he was serious or he just horsed around~” Nick gossiped about Maximus in jest with platypus agent who only made the growling noise in response.

Still not talk huh? Nick thought.

“However, when Savages die, they will come to rest and then vaporize into nothing.”

Subsequent to Maximus done speaking, there was a calf lifting a hoof to ask a question. “Where do we go after death?”

The question stunned the adults so much that they were at a loss for words, afraid of accidentally making a wrong move that leads to speaking of things which potentially go against some beliefs.

Suddenly, the fox cop decided to take action. “Kits, it’s kinda like taking indefinite leave for a sleep.”

“Lying in bed all day must be nice.”

“But only sleeping sounds boring.”

Children chatted with each other.

“Trust me kiddos, once you reach a certain age, you would desire to sleep all the time.”

Hearing Nick’s relatable assertion, teachers had a hard time keeping a straight face.

“Okay, if you have any questions, please feel free to ask.” Jasmine stated. “Yes?” She pointed to a cub.

“Have you ever met that one superhero in person?” The cub quizzed.

“Well, everyone is a hero in their own ways.” Maximus responded, flattered as he imagined that kids may look up to him who constantly protects the city.

“No no! I mean a real superhero like Hybrid on TV!”

The agents together with the officers were mildly shocked when the name of the armored cross-breed mammal was mentioned.

“Can he fly?”

“How do you know it’s he?”

“I think this hero is a girl.”

Most of the youngsters began to speak (partly arguing) loudly. Meanwhile, Judy was trying her best to prevent herself from smiling, almost not paying attention to stuffs around her anymore. She had never seen Hybrid as ‘a hero’, even after she heard Clawhauser called her and Nick’s combined alter ego ‘that’. However, she felt rather praised when these children regarded this alter ego as not merely a hero but a superhero.

The fox officer caught a glimpse of his partner’s reserved smile, thus “Aw, you look so hoppy, Hopps~” joshing her softly, which made the bunny redden.

After the fuss had settled down, “Let’s go over the important matter again. Whenever you find Savage, what should you do?” the tigress tested the students.

“Stay safe and contact SCU immediately.” They answered simultaneously.

“Excellent!” She praised them, clapping her paws a few times.

All of a sudden, there was a door slammed open. A large brown mole janitor, wearing round glasses, rushed in the gymnasium. “Holy crud! Big problem!! Savages are outside!”

-.. ..- - -.-- / - --- / . -.. ..- -.-. .- - .

Following a quick nap, Rajah kept his word. He was reading the papers which Nick and Judy wrote while sipping coffee at his cube. The overcoat was hung on a back of office chair. As for his turban, he laid it on a desk.

The tiger compared the papers related to the missing mammal cases with CCTV footage in ZPD’s database. He also looked at the cases that he took responsibility for investigation.

“It can’t be...” Mumbling, he grew more sullen, disturbed by the supposition formed in his mind. “I hope I’m wrong...”

.-- .. ... .... / - --- / -... . / .-- .-. --- -. --.

During a commotion, Nick and Judy seized an opportunity, telling others that they would go out to check on civilians outdoors. But, in fact, they pinpointed the target, three of mid-sized macropodine Savages wandering the school’s courtyard, sticking together.

The duo made a detour to hide behind walls, an out of sight spot. They were about to transform.

“Ready partner?” Judy brought out her MidniDriver, then put it on. Its belt wrapped around her waist automatically.

“Born ready~” Nick, wearing his morpher, flopped down sideways towards the rabbit. As a result, she reached paws forward to catch him before he could fall down on the ground.

“What’s wrong, Nick!? Are you ok??” Having her heart in her mouth, she carried his upper body carefully.

“I’ll eventually fall on the ground anyway. Skipping some steps wouldn’t hurt~” He pulled his syringe. “DRAW BLOOD”

She rolled her eyes in annoyance, then pressed her device’s syringe “INJECT”, supporting Nick’s falling unconscious body with one arm.

Next, she laid him down and moved her right paw to twist the handle back “IGNITE”.

Driver emitted purple steam, followed by mist explosion covering the bunny entirely. Accordingly, she transformed into the flamingo red full-armored rabbit with fox features (especially the tail), Hybrid Hustler form.

In order not to waste any time, they pushed the syringe “ACTIVATE” to activate instantaneous movement, which allows Hybrid to travel from one point to another instantly.

The duo chose to use this ability instead of running into battle so that nobody saw Hybrid come out from where they were hiding Nick’s body and would start to suspect them.

Hybrid appeared out of thin air above the courtyard. Feet landed on the field. They made a majestic entrance, or that was what they went for, but it turned out that during the landing, Hybrid slipped and fell over.

It did not hurt, but both got shocked what happened nonetheless. The fox and the bunny, sharing the same body, had a feeling of something wet and slippery on the ground.

“Hybrid?” Maximus was guarding gymnasium’s doorway when he unintentionally blurted out.

Two other agents and a feline officer were also surprised to see the armored mammal emerge from nowhere.

“Hybrid!? Where? Where!?” The thrilled children, overhearing the name, wanted to get a good look at a real life superhero, so the adults obstructed them from leaving the building.

The sensitive rabbit ears picked up young mammals’ voice calling Hybrid. Judy was embarrassed to picture that they caught sight of Hybrid slipping down, hence taking control of the body real quick to get up.

Hybrid was confronting Savages with avian feathers. One had a hooked bill in place of a snout. One’s hind legs developed into bird legs. Another one did not have arms but had a pair of wings instead.

“Fangmeyer, call reinforcements. Officer Clawhauser, Mr. DIB agent, protect citizens.” Maximus the horse drew out a pistol, planning to shoot down the monsters. Too bad, the distance between him and the target was too far. Furthermore, he did not have much special ammo for dealing with Savage at the moment; therefore, he stepped on the field to close the distance.

However, he slipped and tumbled after a few steps, neighing shrilly.

There was black watery substance patchily all over the courtyard. Those macropodine Savages coughed slimy liquids everywhere.

Judy began to surmise what this black fluid was, “Saliva!? Ewwwww!!!” disgusted by it. She carefully avoided not to step on wet areas again but-

“All aboard!” Nick, in charge of the body, dashed forth, sliding on the slippery ground with extended leg. Hybrid kicked the macropods in their legs, tripping them over.

“What’s the-!?” Judy wished to reproach Nick for taking her body through a disgusting mess. But before she could finish her sentence, Nick lifted Hybrid’s left index finger to touch the center of the helmet’s muzzle part as a signal for her not to raise her voice.

If other mammals hear Judy’s voice from Hybrid, not Nick’s voice as usual, they will suspect.

Judy could only stay silent, swallowing frustration.

Soon after falling down, hooked billed one raised its head and then ejected slippery dark liquid through its mouth.

The duo were going to dodge the monster’s vomit. Unfortunately, because of slimy floor, Hybrid was unable to spring over far enough to evade the black watery matter and consequently blocked some liquids with left arm.

“Ew! Ew! It’s all wet and oily!” The doe grumbled.

Since it was difficult to run or jump around on the slippery floor like this, she aimed to activate the instant movement ability in order to get close to the monsters and attack them.

However, the left side of morpher got coated by black slime that must be from the hooked billed Savage’s previous attack. The paws slipped when Hybrid tried to push the syringe.

“What’s this thing?” Judy sniffed at stuffs covering the body.

Nick could smell- “Oil?”

In this state, long range attack was more suitable, yet Police form’s gun might spark a fire with oil around them, which was too dangerous, especially nearby school buildings full of civilians. That being the case, Hybrid twisted the handle forth twice “FORM SHIFT-ARCHER” to switch to the most fitting form for this situation.

Armor gaps released purple steam which removed the oil on the body. The doe’s figure enveloped in the fog from the device, core of which brightened along with amethyst headlight eyes.

Hybrid pivoted around to clear the brume, revealing the flamingo red bio-armored mixed breed in green leather tunic, hood with red feather, charcoal mark on face that resembles eye mask.

At the time they were done changing form and “ACTIVATE” summoning a bow, Maximus finally straightened up after several failed attempts. He switched off the pistol safety catch.

Hearing sound of toggling a lever, Judy rapidly turned to SCU’s leader. “Don’t shoot! These black liquids might be an oil!” Nick shouted. Both feared that his firearm could ignite the huge flame with oil on the ground.

“Shut up, Hybrid!” The horse yelled back. “I’ll arrest you later-”

Seeing him not listening, Hybrid generated an arrow from right wrist, then shot it at him. An arrowhead broke off, allowing a boxing glove inside it to pop up.

The boxing glove arrow hit Maximus right in his face, knocking him down, successfully preventing him from firing a gun.

“Please look after that guy. Thank you.” Nick requested Jasmine. Despite confusion, she agreed to do what she was asked, pulling her boss back into gymnasium.

When Hybrid turned back, Savages had already got up, two of them coming towards Hybrid, the other one with avian legs bounding in the direction of a narrow way between buildings where the duo hid Nick’s body.

While they were experiencing difficulties in moving on the oily surface, these monsters easily moved around as they pleased.

Judy hastily created a new lethal arrow to shoot the bird legged macropod. Abruptly, the hooked billed one threw up on Hybrid once more. The right paw was splashed with the black oil. The arrow slipped through greasy fingers, flying to strike the bird legged monster’s calf. It missed the viral spots that Judy aimed for.

“Tsk” The doe disapproved of the outcome, the bird legged Savage still, a bit slower, advanced. She tried to shoot it again but the other two interfered her by assaulting Hybrid.

She “ACTIVATE” summoned a sword to deal with the billed one and the winged one. However, due to the greasy right paw, Hybrid dropped the sword. The only option left at the moment was to avoid the continuous attacks.

As Hybrid was dodging the attacks, she grew anxious more and more, worried about tod’s body.

“Calm down, Carrots.” He comforted her. It was not like he did not worry, even so he was more concerned about his buddy, feeling the bunny’s body tremble from a surge of anxiety.

What should I do? Should I chase that Savage? But if I leave here, our friends and civilians will be put into danger…. But Nick! What should I do? The doe concentrated.

In a critical second, a monitor of Archer form detected an incoming object.

A flash passed in front of Hybrid. The very next image Nick and Judy saw was that two Savages were blown away, which greatly puzzled them.

“Stop spacing out~”

Both swiftly turned Hybrid’s head to the source of male fruity voice. The owner of the voice was a silver chrome full suited (from head to toes) wolf with a reflective black bar over the eyes, two black thunderbolt stripes mirroring each other on abdomen, and solar panels on chest as well as shoulders.

“I’ll take care of the rest. Hurry up and go to your body already~” The mysterious wolf said sotto voce, pointing at an area where Nick’s body were, when the Savages that was just collided started to target him.

Wait! That guy knows about my unconscious body? Nick was undeniably aghast, whereas Judy “FORM SHIFT-HUSTLER” only thought about saving Nick, changing back to Hustler form by twisting the handle forth with left paw.

She moved Hybrid’s leg to sprint through the oiled courtyard. The gusting steam from changing the form blew away the liquid on spots of the ground Hybrid stepped on. Once they reached the edge of the courtyard field where there was no slippery oil, “ACTIVATE” she ran at the astonishing speed to follow the bird legged Savage to the narrow path between buildings.

When Hybrid turned around the corner, they found it poking Nick’s senseless body. Judy, without second thought, twisted the handle back. “CRITICAL BREAK” Hybrid sped up to the point of becoming a red blur with amethyst light lines alongside and then leaped, rolling front flip in mid-air, to kill the monster with a double kick blow.

Hybrid landed backflip before hastening to check on Nick’s body.

“Nick! Are you alright?” Judy’s voice shivered.

“I think so. Still looking handsome and all-” He looked at his own unconscious body, commending in fun.

“Return to your body to make sure!” She did not care about the joke, pulling the syringe, sending his mind back to his body.

The armor let out purple mist, then disappeared. Her body and clothes were back to the previous state.

Nick woke up afterwards. “Yeah I-” After pressing his syringe to inject the blood, “I’m fine.” he continued.

“What a relief…” Judy sighed. “Now! Let’s transform and beat the rest!”

“You detransformed just for this!?” Nick precipitately sat up.

“Quick!” She rushed him.

But then, both heard a footstep… The shadow, representing the familiar feline figure, was cast on the floor. They looked back to the way they two as Hybrid just ran on… Standing at the corner was Benjamin Clawhauser, the cheetah ZPD officer.

- --- / -... . / -.-. --- -. - .. -. ..- . -..

#zootopia #zootopia fanfiction #zoomorphia #zootopia tokusatsu au

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captain-rex · 6 years

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Positivity is wonderful :) i have a weird question, i have no ability to see tlj because i have to take care of my ailing grandma, when you see it could you give me a full synopsis? I would be very grateful :)

STAR WARS THE LAST JEDI SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!! PLS LEAVE IF YOU HAVEN’T SEEN THE MOVIE I AM BASICLY WRITING THE WHOLE MOVIE DOWN!!!!!

Alright so maybe I can forget some stuff or be not as accurate but I’ll try my best. Besides, you can read more here: http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Star_Wars:_Episode_VIII_The_Last_Jedi

Alright so it starts with The Resistance evacuating their main base. Leia is among them. Their ships jump into hyperspace but the First Order follows them. Poe flies a ship with BB-8 and take the main canons down of one of the Stardestroyers. He gets shot and loses his weapons but they get repaired by BB-8 by bashing his head into wires or something lol it was funny. Leia orders him to return but Poe won’t give up and takes the last one down. Now the Resistance can sent bombers but they all get destroyed by the First Order except for one. Paige Tico is able to drop her bombs with struggle but dies in the explosion, we see her touching a necklace as her last moments. They flee but they are being tracked even THROUGH LIGHTSPEED. A long pursuit begins and the little Resistance ships get taken down one by one. The First Order comes closer and closer but the Resistance have to go on, they’re fuel is almost down and they are only able to do one more lightspeed that has NO USE BECAUSE THE FO CAN TRACK THEM THROUGH IT. During one battle Kylo Ren pilots a ship and feels his mother Leia in the big ship. He has the chance to shoot her down but he doesn’t, he can’t do it. But then two other FO ships shoot where she is and there is a huge explosion. Leia is presumed dead but we see a BEAUTIFUL shot of her in space. At first it looks like she won’t make it but her fingers twitch and her eyes open. She reaches out to the ship and uses the force to pull her back to savety. (Gosh this was one of my favorite parts it was SO SUSPENSFUL but our beautiful princess and general made it because she is so badass I cried). But she is unconcious and someone else needs to take over her leadership because all the others (like admiral ackbar) died. This is the job of admiral Amilyn Holdo. She won’t tell a plan however and Poe is sceptical. Holdo doesn’t trust him and says he’s dangerous and practicly uses his position (because he got demoted for not following Leia’s order) to demean him and have him leave her alone. -During the fleeing Finn has woken up with a scream “REY!”. He walks around confused and worried in equipment that’s supposed to protect him and it’s leaking everywhere but it’s not bothering him because he’s searching for Rey. Poe finds him and says “You must have many questions”. But Finn responds with only one: “Where’s Rey?”. Finn gets dressed and meets Leia who shows him a tracker that she and Rey both have. Rey can always find her way back. Finn is pleased. Then when the Resistance finds out the First Order can track them and it’s only time before they get caughtand after Leia is unconcious and Holdo is in command, Finn takes the tracker and prepares to get an escape pod so he can go to a save place where Rey can find him otherwise she’d get killed too if Rey would find the Resistance instead. This is when we meet Rose Tico. She’s crying and holding a matching necklace we saw Paige have too. She notices Finn and follows him. The two meet and she, while her face are still in tears is excited to see him. She tells him that he’s a hero and she can barely believe she’s talking to a real Resistance hero. (or that she’s talking because she’s just behind pipes all day according to her) She tells him more stuff like that her sisters gone and that there are cowards that wanted to run that she stunned (NOT entirely sure if I got that right could be something else but this is basicly a hint that she has a stun gun and that she really does not appreciate people that run away) I found this really cute because shes so excited because FINN !! Hes a hero! But Finn is slightly awkward because he’s trying to hide his stuff that he’s gonna escape with. But it’s good to see that Finn has actually become A Big Deal (reference to TFA) in the resistance and how Rose excitedly reacts to meeting him. Then it goes from cute to NOOO. Rose notices the stuff and figures out he’s trying to escape. She stuns him and when he wakes (barely being able to move due to the stun) she’s taking him to turn him in. When Finn came to, he tried to convince her that he was not merely a deserter but was trying to warn his friend of the direness of the Resistance’s situation, pointing out the fact that the Raddus would be tracked by the First Order through hyperspace, chasing them down until they ran out of fuel and they were destroyed.Rose realized that the First Order must be using a tracking device aboard the Supremacy. With Rose’s knowledge of mechanics and Finn’s knowledge of First Order ships, the two devised a plan to shut down the tracking device and allow the Raddus to escape into hyperspace. They informed Poe Dameron of their plan to infiltrate the Supremacy, although they do not know how to decrypt the ship’s computer codes to be able to gain access to the ship itself. Dameron made a call to Maz Kanata, who referred them to a “master codebreaker” that they would be able to find on Cantonica. (I literally copied this from wiki lmao) Poe stays behind for when they finish and he can get the fleet to use the last lightspeed. Rose and Finn go to a casino on Canto Bight. It’s full of rich people and looks beautiful. Finn is enjoying himself, but Rose seems less happy. Finn wonders why and she shows him to look closer. They’re watching horseraces (the horses being a new star wars species ‘‘fathiers’‘) but then they see the fathiers are being abused and have children caretakers. I think Rose mentioned she and Paige worked their as kids too? They get caught by police and thrown out because they parked their ship somewhere where it isn’t allowed lmao. They lost the hacker. In the prison they meet a guy named DJ who mentiones he can do it too. They don’t trust him and plan to escape. DJ simply opens the door with some kind of card thingy and walks out. The duo is flabbergasted and flee too. DJ meets BB-8 who p much took all the police down by shooting money at them PFffbfb.

iM SORRY I DIDNT GET MUCH FURTHER THAN THIS I HOPE UR GRANDMA IS BETTER I tried my best but now its some time after the movie and idk if i can remember everything. BUt Im sure theres more stuff on google or something.

here’s a link to a summary/review with peoples opinions and stuff also I think if you search on google you can find some other stuff. I havent read it tho hahah just scanned it:

https://www.theverge.com/2017/12/18/16792056/star-wars-the-last-jedi-question-club-best-and-worst-scenes

#the last jedi #star wars #tlj spoilers #spoilers #the last jedi spoilers #captaincassian-andor #asks

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vibarsophiakyla · 4 years

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Memoir: A Worth It Embarrassment

It was my last year in Junior High School that I knew something bad will happen to me,,, jesting. Knowing that I will be changing schools for Senior High School and saying goodbye to my school that I have been loyal to for a decade, something has to change. I was in a low profile for the past 9 years as I didn’t like joining extra-curricular activities for the sole reason of being shy in front of everyone, others may call it a stage fright. I wasn’t interested in contests and the like that needs to show off oneself. The only organization that I was actually part of is the Citizenship Advancement Training, it was full of blood, sweat, and tears.

Yet, that isn’t what my memoir is about, I will share my experience wherein I lost all of my dignity, pride, and glory,,, a jest again, of course. It is when I was forced to join our Science Fair Contest, the “Search for Mr. and Ms. Solar System”. A really embarrassing experience for me, in my most definitely honest opinion, yet I didn’t regret anything, probably just with what I did for the talent portion, AACK.

It all started when my adviser asked us for the participants with the pageant. We were discombobulated at first when she said that it is for the Science Fair since it was already January at the time, we were already 3 months late for it. No one wanted to join since it wasn’t of any of our interests, we were mostly focused on our projects and stuff. By then, no one was responding or even just reacting to our adviser, I was also on the verge of falling asleep at that time from staying up late the day before. Our advisory teacher looked around, with scanning eyes like a robot, she looked at us one by one. Knowing what will happen if we stare back, we engraved to our minds, refrain from staring back. It wasn’t effective for me of course, with a hesitating face, I looked up to her as she called me by my first name. My classmates and friends knew that I will decline because that is what I really am gonna do but I guess the teacher knew of it too since she released her trump card on me. That is a secret of another time though, the person who will read this might use it to me, prevention is better than cure as they say.

So, a week before the pageant, preparations were already getting started by the Science Club officers and its head adviser which is also my teacher in Science. I was mostly excused from my classes for the instructions and the intermission dance thingy for the contestants that were taught by a certain junior of mine. I met a lot of people/other contestants, some who were also just pulled into the same fate I was in. Extra-curricular activity means socialization, and socialization means awkward conversations with new people. Yet, I did have fun talking and getting close to some of them. I could still remember the shock on my cadet juniors when my friends exposed me while literally having our formation and commanding them, it was very unexplainable, I had no idea if they were holding their laughs or didn’t really expect for me to join.

My friends and classmates were really supportive of it, two of my gay classmates pressured me so much but that did help me. I just couldn’t watch pageant ramps and videos that they told me to, that isn’t just my thing but I did try my best to copy how those two gays were ramping. Maybe not, I still looked bad lol.

The Science Club announced that there will be a talent portion prior to the day of the pageant. I was panicking at that time simply because I didn’t really have a decent talent. I had no idea what to do, same as to my partner at that time but later on, he settled to spoken word poetry. By then, I asked the help of my best friend Robeen on what to do for the said talent portion. She didn’t have to think long and immediately answered me like The Flash with a quick, “You have to dance.”. That 4-word sentence of her dropped on me with the power of the nuclear bomb from Nagoya and Hiroshima. I didn’t want to dance, then again I had no choice since Robeen said so already. Having the sly mind and being a strategist, she knew I had to dance something famous to get the audience’s attention. Robeen chose the songs that I had to dance and will be the reason for my humiliation stage.

Deafening cheers, loud screams, energetic claps, inaudible banter from different people filled the gymnasium at the day of the talent portion. My classmates who were experts with makeups and stuff put some light ones on me as my friends and I practiced our dance for the last time before my turn.

At last, I felt the attack of my stage fright when I just standing there in front of many people. I removed my glasses as my hands shake and my heartbeat thumps erratically. I had to make myself believe and think that after this, it will all be alright. The music started ringing inside my ears as I tried to remember the steps that I memorized with my friends. I couldn’t see a thing clearly, but that helped me since I wasn’t able to see the expecting faces of the crowd and didn’t feel pressured about it. When ‘Versace on the Floor’ came and my friend came, I heard exciting cheers as I think they thought me and my friend will be dancing sexily to it but hey it is a prank lol. Then, from the boyish steps to the former song, it immediately switched to the cutesy ‘Likey’ of Twice, I became very shy while dancing that ack.

The day after the talent portion is the pageant proper. Everything was already fixed, from the costume, intermission, to the question and answer, and the individual advocacy. My gay classmate asked the help from a grade 8 student to fix my makeup and my friend took a picture of the fright visible on my face as she holds out some…items.

Everything went well, the intermission was okay, and the ramp was okay, the advocacy was okay, but before the question and answer portion, I was already hyperventilating and my fright is starting to build up on my bones as I felt myself shivering and tearing up. I called out to my friend but all of them were on duty for the officers. Thankfully, one of my cadets noticed it and walked over to my side. She whispered comforting words beside my ear until I finally calmed down. The pageant ended with the contestants each doing their very best. As the adviser and judges announce the winners, it was nerve-wracking. The nervousness builds up again in our throats as we hold our breaths. I was ready to disappoint, kidding. I was actually kinda chill at that time since I was mostly thankful that everything I had to do is already done.

As they say, ”Expect the unexpected.” I didn’t understand what that meant up to now, yet surprisingly I won as the first runner up. Maybe the humiliation overall wasn’t a total bum since I won a place. My friends were very proud of it and that is what I was most thankful for.

The image of being a composed and proper commander to my cadet juniors vanished and was replaced with a jester and playful one with that experience. After that pageant, they didn’t let me live in peace and will randomly dance ‘Likey’ and sing in front of me.

It was a long ass ride in my memoir but hey, there should be no regrets, right?

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our13rw-blog · 7 years

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Whoops- Montgomery x reader smut

Well shit, Montgomery. What the fuck.

Warnings: Smut, swearing

I need Jesus holy cow.

“Come on y/n, its gonna be so fun!” Sherri exclaims, jumping up and down while holding onto my arm. We were sitting on my bed, Sherri trying to convince me of going to the party tonight at Bryce’s.

“I don’t know Sherri…” I begin but am immediately cut off by Sherri putting her finger over my mouth and shushing me.

“Pleaseeeee” she begs, putting her hands together in a ball and shaking them back and fourth, begging. I simply roll my eyes and nod, Sherri jumping up and hugging me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I promise, were gonna have a blast. I’ll pick you up at 9, alright?” Sherri asks, grabbing her bag off the floor and beginning to exit my room.

“Yeah yeah, sure.” I say, waving her a quick goodbye. Tonight was another one of your typical high school parties, however like usual, I did not want to go. Parties just really aren’t my thing. Being as the time is 8 o’ clock, I begin to get ready. Somehow, I manage to shower, do my hair, makeup, and pick out an outfit for tonight within the span of that given hour. By 9:15, I’m reminding my parents that I’m staying at Sherri’s tonight and waving them goodbye on my way out to Sherri’s car.

“Look at my best friend, looking all hot and shit.” Is my greeting from Sherri as I enter her car. I just laugh and give her a quick hug before taking over the AUX and plugging in my phone, playing some bomb throwback music. We drive down the streets heading over to Bryce’s house jamming to “Party In the USA”, a classic. Getting out of the car upon reaching our destination, I realize lots of girls are in short, tight dresses. I, on the other hand, am in black shorts with a maroon tank top, pairing with my converse. I shrug off the questions I’m having about my outfit choice and walk into the house with Sherri, immediately running into Jess and Justin.

“Hey guys!” Jess yells, obviously being a little overtaken by the alcohol in her system. “Drinks are in the kitchen, keg out back, you know the drill.”

“Thanks Jess” Sherri says, pulling me over to kitchen and begins to make me a drink. Once finished, she hands it over to me and I take a sip. Immediately I can taste the alcohol and I nearly gag it all up.

“Jesus, Sherri, what’s in this?” I ask, looking in the cup as if I was going to be able to figure it out that way.

“Oh you know, a little bit of everything” Sherri winks at me as I laugh and take another sip, when suddenly I feel an arm wrap around my waist and pull me in.

“Well, would ya look who it is, y/n and Sherri, coming to having a little fun with their favorite guy” The possessor of the arm says from behind me. I simply laugh and turn around to face the guy of whom the voice obviously belonged to.

“You’re a funny guy there, Monty.” I say, pulling his arm from around my waist and dropping it by his side. The smirk on his face becomes bigger as I roll my eyes and take a big sip of whatever the hell Sherri has made me, turning my back to him. Not going to lie when I say I’ve always found Montgomery really fucking hot… I mean he’s a complete asshole, but hot nonetheless.

“You know, I could show you how much of a fun guy I can be.” Monty breathes into my ear, sending shivers down my spine. I shake my head, simply walking away to the outside area where I find Jeff, Alex, and Zach hanging out around the pool.

“Hey guys!” I say, joining in their little group.

“Hey y/n!” Zach exclaims, throwing his arm around me. I’ve always been super close with these three boys, so I didn’t feel awkward in the least butting into their conversation.

“What’re you guys up to?” I ask, looking around to see who else is in the area.

“Nothing much, just chilling out.” Alex says, shrugging.

I was talking to them about school and sports when Jeff taps me on the shoulder.

“Hey y/n, Montgomery over there has been staring at you for the past couple minutes… need me to go beat him up?” Jeff asks, staring Montgomery down. I just laugh and shake my head.

“No need Atkins, I’ll take care of this one.” I tell him, backhanding him playfully in the chest before waving a quick goodbye to the others. I walk my way over to Montgomery, who is now looking down at his phone. “What’s with you Monty?” I ask, hitting him on the arm lightly. He looks up at his phone, directly in my eyes and at that moment I can tell something’s up. Before I can ask, Montgomery grabs my hand and pulls me inside to the nearest bedroom, where he slams the door and immediately crashes his lips on mine. I kiss back, disappointed when he pulls away, his hungry eyes looking me up and down.

“Fuck, y/n, you’re such a fucking tease” Montgomery gets out between breaths while kissing my neck. “You’ve only just got here, but I’ve been thinking about you since. And fucking hell y/n, you’re gonna pay for it.” I bite down on my lip, feeling myself getting wetter by the second. Like I’ve said before, Montgomery was fucking hot, so I had no problem with this. I nod my head, a small moan escaping my lips as Monty makes his way down to my chest, roughing kissing. He then pulls away, and looks me deeply in the eyes as he pushes me over to the bed, forcing me down on it.

“We’re gonna play a little game.” He says, sitting down near my legs. He begins simply rubbing one as he explains this game. “You see, tonight you are mine. I have complete and utter control over you, you hear me?” Monty says, nearing his face to mine, leaving random kisses on my body. “A little slut like you doesn’t get to cum whenever, so you have to wait till I say,” By now, he’s by my ear, nearly whispering. “You’re in for a rough fucking night y/n” Montgomery says, nipping my ear. I let out a small moan as I nod, practically dripping down under at this point.

“Fuck, alright Monty.” I say, pleading to be touched. I see a smirk form on his face as he sits back, letting out a huff of air.

“Tonight, I’m daddy to you, alright babe?” Monty says, and quickly I nod my head. All of a sudden, I feel him on top of me, kissing me roughly. His tongue shoves in way into my mouth, fighting with me over dominance. Painfully slowly, he begins to remove my shorts and tank, leaving me only in my lacy underwear and black matching bra. Biting his lip, he quickly removes my bra and goes to work at my breasts, sucking on one and massaging the other. Moans are flying out of my mouth like crazy when suddenly the pleasure goes away, leaving me angry. I look to find Monty standing at the foot of the bed, a devilish look on his face.

“You see, I’m not here to do all the work for you, Now do what daddy asks, and please yourself.” Monty says, an evil smirk taking over his face. I groan at the idea, using my hands to slowing being massaging my breasts and making their way down my stomach to my underwear, in which I quickly throw off my body. I use one digit to feel myself, seeing how wet I am. I spread my legs and inset a digit to my soaking core, a loud moan escaping my lips. I begin pumping in and out, slowly at first, and then begin to pick up speed, groaning loudly. I insert another digit, and another, pumping in and out of my core as quickly as I can. I look up and make eye contact with a now shirtless Montgomery as I feel the pleasure becoming more intense, my high nearing. I see him bite his lip and he rushes over to me, pulling my fingers out of my dripping vagina. I whine at the lose of contact, but immediately feel the slamming of his fingers deep in my core.

“Fuck D- fuck!” Is all I manage to get out, throwing my head back as Monty uses his thumb to intensely rub my clit, his other hand holding down my hips from bucking up. I feel my high approach and I moan out. “Fuck, fuck, hol- fu- I’m gonna…. fuck” I gasp out, about ready to release when Monty completely stops everything he’s doing, and pulls his fingers out of me.

“What the actual fuck?” I ask, but I’m forced down on his lips as I feel his pants being removed, leaving him in his underwear. I break the kiss, moving down to his underwear band, nipping at it. He throws it off his body, his throbbing member springing up. He grabs my hair, collecting it into a ponytail, and forced my head down on his dick. Moving my head up and down, I continue to fill my throat with his member, using my hands to get whatever I cant fit. Monty above me is a moaning mess, and I feel his dick twitch in my mouth, the hot cum shooting down the back of my throat.

I’m then flipped over on my back, my neck being attacked as I hear a wrapper being opened and a few seconds later, feeling Monty slam into me. A loud moan comes from both of us, and he beings to quickly pound in and out of me. Monty takes both of my legs and puts them over his shoulders to reach deeper into me, and I’m over whelmed with immediate pleasure. Every trust is hitting my G-spot and I cant get enough of it. He picks up the speed, swearing under his breath.

“Shi- fuck, you’re so fucking tight” he breaths out, slamming deeper and deeper into me with every trust. I feel my near approaching, throwing my head back and arching my back.

“Fuck, daddy, I’m so close” I whimper, feeling the knot in my stomach getting tighter and tighter. At this point Monty’s head has found its way to my neck and I’m scratching at his back like crazy.

“Fuck. me too.” He says, thrusting harder and deeper, grunting on top of me. “You want to cum, don’t you, you little slut?” I nod my head, arching my back as I feel the knot about to release. “Alright babe, now” Monty get out, as I scream out his name beneath him. That must have set him off too because a few seconds later he’s picking up the speed an riding out both of our highs. His thrusts become sloppy and slow.

He pulls out of me and disposes of the condom, putting his clothes back on. I take a look in the mirror, gasping. “God Monty, you couldn’t have made these any more noticeable?” I say sarcastically to him, pointing out 3 huge hickeys on my neck already forming. Being the asshole he is, Montgomery laughs, shrugging it off with a simple “Whoops!” and winks at me before exiting the room back to the party. A few minutes later, I leave as well.

Throughout the rest of the night I catch Montgomery’s eye and he winks at me, smirks always forming on his face. Lets just say that wasn’t the last time I’d be covered in hickeys by Monty.

#montgomery de la cruz #montgomery #monty #13rw #13 reasons why #smut #montgomery smut #montgomery de la cruz smut #jeff atkins #zach dempsey #alex standall #justin foley #montgomery image #13 #thirteen reasons why

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brishu · 5 years

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Everybody’s Heart’s in the Same Fucking Place

My shift at the Park Slope Food Coop is usually the first Saturday of the month (A Week). I am the squad leader for the 8:30 PM Food Processing shift and, for the past 9 years, I have amassed a spotless record of showing up drunk. Sometimes I wonder if a non-shift encounter with any of my squadmates would make them think, “There’s something different about you right now.” Under my drunken helm, nobody’s cut themselves on a cheese slicer or box cutter or tape roll blade. And for the most part nobody’s emerged from the coop’s basement after two and a half hours getting bossed around by a booze-soaked contrarian nursing any grievous emotional injuries. Actually, more often than not, somebody doing a make-up or holding up their end of a shift swap enjoys their time so much that they try to join our squad.

But this is the Park Slope Food Coop and the self-righteousness is as abundant as the kale. I am not the first grump to notice that some people base their most cherished beliefs on whose approval they gain. Why would you want to brutalize the planet to access natural gas when you can oppose it and feel like you’re marching right alongside Mark Ruffalo? Would you rather your foreign policy views align with the sneering, bomb-happy conservatism of Norman Podhoretz or the serene brilliance of Noam Chomsky? These are obtuse dichotomies, to be sure. So here’s a specific one: I am skeptical of the gun control movement. Less than 10 minutes of research can tell anybody who wants to know that more than 1 million AR-15s get sold each year. For those who might stagger in horror at a number that high, I’d ask you to take a moment and consider some other information that sales figure connotes. Personally, I’m extremely reluctant to demonize that many people I don’t know. Setting aside the implicit interpersonal dynamics lecture and moving from cursory research to wonkier statistics, we can learn that mass shootings account for less than 1% of gun deaths in a given year. In 2017, 39,773 people were killed by guns in America. 23,854 or 60% were suicides, and of the 14,542 or 37% that were homicides, 117 fatalities fit the legal definition of “mass shooting.” If this sounds like I’m trying to minimize the horror inspired by mass shootings in America, it’s because I am. Does this mean I side with gun owners over victims of these atrocities? No, it does not. It means I reject the notion that those are the two sides pitted against each other. And I will assert that fear of losing a loved one in a mass shooting is about as mathematically sound as treating a lottery ticket like a reliable path to wealth. But there’s actual likelihood, and then there’s media-spurred terror. So I’m not exactly raring to see a penstroke turn several million law-abiding citizens into criminals just because an incident I heard about in the news upset me.

Anyway, I only mention this because one time a young guy doing a make-up on my Food Processing shift started lecturing me about the correlation between Scandinavian rights to bear arms (according to him, they have none) and the number of gun-related deaths they suffer there. And yes alcohol was a factor but I got really pissed off at this guy. In retrospect, I should have been patient and respectful as he regurgitated his boilerplate arguments. But I guess I was too busy getting rankled by his presumption that only cretins unworthy of respect could harbor views as indifferent to human suffering as mine, instead of thinking, “Hmm, this guy seems pretty smart and he’s rocking a terrific playlist and everyone on his squad seems to like him a lot so maybe there’s more to his viewpoint than my kneejerk assumptions have led me to believe.” So I unleashed a bunch of other data and upbraided him for being so obtuse that he presumed my suspicions about anti-gun rhetoric amounted to my being a MAGA-head. The basement got tense and I apologized for making things awkward for everyone and changed subjects to talk about movies (whereupon our anti-gun crusading dried mango bagger announced that he was boycotting Miramax’s ouevre. Good for him.).

For years, our shift occurred the night before the Superbowl and the night before the Oscars and we worked hard to stock the shelves upstairs with enough cheeses, olives, nuts, dried fruits, teas and spices to sate the frenzied consumption that is de rigueur on these particular Sundays. Eventually, A-Week Saturday rotated away and it was up to some other squad to work like Santa’s unpaid elves to meet the demands on Pepper Jack and Brie. But somehow our shift remains on the one Saturday night when I refuse to exert myself (or get shitfaced): Marathon Eve.

So last year I swapped shifts with someone who liked our squad so much that she joined. My policy is that as long as you show up with some regularity, you’re welcomed warmly on our shift. We care about each other’s families and careers, opinions on matters political and artistic, and general well-being. This is less some sort of management strategy enacted to optimize productivity than a simple extension of the good will I feel toward nearly all people and certainly all Food Processors (even the Pulp Fiction boycotter who pronounces Weinstein incorrectly). Now. At our shift in August, the subject of the coop’s long, tortured debate on carrying Israeli products came up. I love this subject, even though I disagree with almost every other view anybody has on it. I don’t agree with ardent supporters of Boycott, Divestments and Sanctions, and I certainly don’t agree with the ultra-orthodox Jews who consider all criticism of Israel tantamount to Naziism.

My first exposure to this debate was at a General Meeting in the summer of 2012. The meeting was held in the ballroom of Congregation Beth Elohim, of which we are members. People I expected to shoot down anything anti-Israel (because they looked like elderly Jews) stood up passionately decrying coop complicity in Israeli policies they already unwillingly supported by paying taxes. And then some younger people with tattoos and gender fluidity vibes stood up in defense of selling Israeli products. The debate was passionate but civil. I found all arguments convincing and simply loved being in a room among people who cared so deeply about doing the right thing. Ultimately the boycotters advanced their initiative one more rung along the coop’s bureaucracy, and the next General Meeting would include a vote on whether to have a coop-wide referendum to BDS or not to BDS.

This meeting got so much publicity that the coop needed to rent a larger space, so 1,600 or 10% of all Park Slope Food Coop members filed into the auditorium at Brooklyn Tech. BDS advocates who were not coop members stood outside leafleting attendees, while school buses ferried several minyanim of ultra-orthodox Jews. Unlike this meeting’s predecessor, the tone was not civil and the arguments were not convincing. They were hystrionic pleas that transparently appealed to each speaker’s own moral vanity. Lost in the debate was any consideration for practical details like how much it would cost to stage a coop-wide referendum, or have the BDSers found alternative, morally acceptable sources for vegan marshmallows? And meanwhile, it became very clear, very quickly that the measure to hold a referendum was going to get voted down. So the series of speakers dabbling in petty-demagoguery was a depressing waste of time.

Two months later, at a meeting I did not attend, the issue came up again, and aroused such anger that a physical altercation occurred. After that, the subject was banned from future General Meetings. While appreciating the moral passion on all sides, my personal view was that people who wanted to boycott should, but they had to acknowledge that other coop members wanted to buy these supposedly blood-soaked products and depriving them of that right felt like some kind of tyranny too.

Anyway, the tortured history of the debate comes up every now and then and I always love hearing what other people think, and also amplifying my own view that the passions that made the debate inflammatory are part of what makes the coop so special to me. So during our August shift, the woman who had swapped with me on the first Saturday of November, 2018, said with no compunction whatsoever that Israel was guilty of genocide. And despite my inebriation (that night I had done most of my drinking at a dear friend’s surprise 60th birthday party), I was able to express disagreement with this term, and assurance that, whereas many people would hear that and go through a series of internal reactions that would result in antipathy toward the issuer of such a serious charge, I understood that her beliefs were motivated by a desire to do the right thing, whatever that may be. Now she may have thought that I was just another Jew defending the indefensible. And I may have thought she was just another self-righteous ignoramus who prizes wokeness over common sense. But speaking for myself, nobody’s just another anything. In my consumption of online commentary, I see a lot of “[that] tells you all you need to know about her.” And it amazes me that this is an acceptable way to rest your personal case against a person who is always more complex, and usually well-meaning, than you presume when you decide that one view, or one errant phrase is a full representation of another person’s soul. That the practice of basing a holistic view of another person on one political position is so blithely unexamined suggests to me that anxieties underlying our need to close our minds are the real problem.

I got annoyed with my fellow squad member. In truth I’m still kind of annoyed, both with her, and with the consortium of opinion that sent her forth believing that accusing Israel of genocide is the right thing to do. And it would be more comfortable for me to let my annoyance snowball into full-blown contempt (spurred at some level by the same anxieties which lead to over-eager mind-closing), to tie her incorrect view of my people’s national homeland to the neuroses her parenting has visited on her daughter, even to her insufficient appreciation of my marathon running, all of which are trumped up charges to be sure. Plenty of people would do exactly this, with no real consequence. They’d condemn this person because her version of doing the right thing is in opposition to theirs. Where is the conscience that holds condemnation at bay?

Either way, while I feel alright about being able to see the light in this person despite my ethyl-clouded mindframe augmenting the shadows cast by her risible political views, I still struggle to find the balance between advancing views I know to be correct with being more of a conduit than a catalyst. And it also feels unfair that I agonize over this stuff only to see significantly less introspective people exert greater influence. But none of that will stop me from getting rip-roaring drunk before my next coop shift.

#Park Slope #Park Slope Food Coop #Coop #Woke #Cancel Culture #Israel #Palestine #Cheese #Food Processing #Alcohol

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victorluvsalice · 4 years

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AU Thursday: Tell Me Where To Find Shelter -- The Reboot

Okay, so -- this past Saturday, I brought back the Pentatonix/Lindsey Stirling cover of Imagine Dragon’s “Radioactive,” and commented that part of the reason the song was on my mind was because I’ve been really getting into Fallout 4, which I’m playing with Victor as my Sole Survivor. This mean that, of course, I have a Valice AU for the game -- “Tell Me Where To Find Shelter.” I originally came up with a rather simplistic version of the AU aaaalll the way back in 2016, based on what little I knew about the game (and the series in general) from getting into the Fallout Shelter mobile game and seeing a friend’s posts about her Sole Survivor. That original version could be summed up as basically “the prologue sequence, only Victor and Victoria are secretly in a poly relationship with Emily, who dies too when their kid is stolen, and Victor discovers Alice alive in the Vault as the only other one who made it -- they go out into the Wasteland together to discover what happened to Victor’s kid.” Pretty simple, right?

Yeah, you can throw all that out. Now, I have actually played the game, spoiled myself on the main quest and a lot of the side quests because I don’t give a damn, and have done a bit of research on the history of the Fallout verse as a whole. (Short version: It sucks. It sucks a lot.) So I have a lot of new ideas, meaning it’s time to reboot this verse! I wouldn’t expect a full-fledged story to come out of this (you’ve seen me panicking over the size of “Londerland Bloodlines,” right? Which is based off an action RPG that is reasonably linear and has a timeline of a month? Fallout 4 is open world and while the main quest is linear, the fact that I’ve been able to ignore it for MONTHS in-game because I can’t say no to Preston Garvey is -- eeep), but I may at least do a few snippets and whatnot.

So! Let me share what I’ve got regarding Victor’s history as the Sole Survivor of Vault 111 -- I’m gonna try to keep it to more general thoughts as I’m not totally up on the history of the Fallout world, and things may have to be adjusted if I later discover that something in the canon strongly contradicts it:

-->I have got his birth date: June 9th, 2050. This makes him 27 at the start of Fallout 4, which I felt was reasonable based on the Fallout Wiki stating both Sole Survivors were likely born between the early 2040s and the mid 2050s.

-->I still want him to be born in England, and have his family move to America a little later in his life -- though when is complicated by the whole Euro-Middle Eastern War and the New Plague putting America under quarantine for a while. The latest I can imagine is them making it over in his early teens or so, having left the broken-down wreck of the U.K. to rebuild fortunes in America.

-->They do indeed rebuild fortunes in America -- Boston, Massachusetts, to be precise. William sets up an extremely lucrative fish-canning business and makes sure to support the military extensively. (The Four Leaf fishpacking plant is almost certainly one of his in this timeline.)

-->The Victor/Victoria/Emily poly thing still happens, kicked off by Victor’s parents pressuring him into dating Victoria (whom he likes), Victor making friends with Emily (whom he also likes) -- and Victor accidentally asking Emily to prom via trying to rehearse his lines to ask Victoria to prom. Feeling bad as Emily is coming off a really bad breakup with an ass named Barkis (who stole a lot of money from her in a long con), he clears it with both girls to take Emily, and later they help defend Victoria when Barkis returns during the party and try to rob her. This leads to a close friendship, which eventually becomes something more.

-->Victor ends up being pulled into the Sino-American war straight out of high school -- William attempts to buy his way out, but for once his money doesn’t work, and Victor ends up fighting in Anchorage, Alaska.

-->This version of Victor, while still into butterflies and moths, is also a tinkerer, and quickly becomes known among his fellow soldiers in Fox Company (108th Infantry Regiment, 2nd Battalion) as “that guy who can fix anything with duct tape and Wonderglue.” (I do enjoy my armor and gun mods -- everything must be deep pocketed!)

-->I’m not sure what Victor does to earn his “decorated war hero” status yet (probably saved the lives of a lot of men with some quick repairs and shooting), but it’s enough to finally get him discharged around 2076. Victoria and Emily had gotten together while he was stuck fighting, but are only too happy to let him into their relationship. Victor officially marries Victoria to keep his parents happy, and they move into Sanctuary Hills with Emily pretending to be their “eventual live-in babysitter” to avoid scrutiny from the parents.

-->And then, during a park escapade, Victoria ends up pregnant. Baby Shaun is welcomed to the world July 31st, 2077. Everyone is thrilled, and Victor picks up a Mr. Handy soon afterward to help with baby care.

-->And then, of course, the bombs drop on October 23rd, 2077. Victor, Victoria, Emily, and Shaun just barely make it into Vault 111, and end up in cryonic suspension -- Victoria is later shot when her and Victor’s pods are reactivated during the kidnapping, and Emily dies quietly when the life support is cut to all but Victor’s pod. Victor is absolutely devastated by their deaths, and takes Victoria’s wedding ring and Emily’s favorite butterfly hair clip as mementos to remember them by before leaving Vault 111.

-->As for the actual game stuff:

Victor’s starting SPECIAL stats were Strength 4, Perception 3, Endurance 7, Charisma 2, Intelligence 8, Agility 3, Luck 3. I’ve been mainly improving Strength for carry weight, though I recently started working seriously on bumping up Charisma because I have realized making it a dump stat was probably not the greatest idea.

I can’t list all his current perks off the top of my head, but Armorer and Gun Nut are up there -- he’s very much a shooty-bang-bang kind of guy, and I believe I mentioned loving deep pockets?

Victor hasn’t met all the factions yet, but -- he’s definitely a Minuteman. I am so easily distracted by those quests, it’s not even funny. ...Well, it’s a little funny. XD He was only too happy to help Preston Garvey’s group set up in Sanctuary Hills, and he and Preston are best friends now -- aka, Preston’s the first companion who idolizes me and whose perk I got. He’s a LITTLE awkward about the whole “General” thing (”Preston, you’re the one always telling ME what to do”) but he’ll grow into it.

As for the other factions -- he’s met Paladin Danse and helped him out at Arcjet, but refused the offer to join the Brotherhood. . .he might go back and do some missions with them, but I don’t think he’s going to like Elder Maxson’s views on synths and ghouls (Super Mutants -- okay, Super Mutants are assholes). He hasn’t met the Railroad yet, but I think he’ll like them and join up to help, even if he thinks some of their methods need tweaking. The Institute -- I think he’ll be of the mind that their discoveries are good, but they’re using them for such evil purposes, and -- ugh.

That being said, I’d like to go for the Minutemen ending that does not require warring with the Brotherhood of Steel, simply because there are kids on that airship and I’d feel bad shooting it down. If there was a way to just get rid of Maxson and maybe yank the Brotherhood closer to its Fallout 3 views. . .and if not blowing up the Institute was an option, Victor would be for it. Getting rid of the top brass who have completely written off the Commonwealth is one thing -- but the building, with all its advances? That could be useful.

Oh, and yes, he is adopting Synth Shaun -- but he is letting the kid know who and what he is, to help him forge his own path in life. (Synth Shaun also correctly guesses his new Dad feels awkward calling him by his predecessor’s name, and they decide on “Chester” instead.)

As for companions he’s currently met -- mentioned already that Preston’s his best friend, and he’s a solid supporter of the Minutemen. He adores Dogmeat and has made him a doghouse to live in at the Red Rocket near Sanctuary. He likes Piper Wright and her desire to spread the news quite a lot (and finds her attractive too). Danse he admires for his commitment to his men and his cause, but doesn’t really know him beyond that due to not joining the BoS. He IS very thankful for the gun, though -- Righteous Authority is useful! Codsworth and he had some rough moments at the beginning (I gave Mama Murphy some Jet for a vision, and poor guy got in the way of some friendly fire on an early trip), but seeing Victor get his modding on has improved their relationship quite a bit (Codsworth sees it as Victor getting back to his old helpful self). He’s encountered Ada and has grown quite fond of the little robot, wanting to help her avenge her slaughtered caravan family (WHY CAN I NOT HUG THE ROBOT). And he’s rescued Strong from Trinity Tower. . .and ended up getting sick of the Super Mutant’s constant negative comments toward humanity and inability to figure out stealth. He was helpful in taking back The Castle, but currently Victor’s got him living with a couple of settlers as a “guard” of sorts, in the hopes it’ll keep him busy and out of Victor’s hair.

And now you may notice there’s a strange lack in this longer-than-I-anticipated write-up. . .namely, where the hell is Alice? Well, that question has three answers:

-->For the purposes of my playthrough, I’m designating Piper as Alice -- she’s going to be Victor’s romance option in this game. (Me turning my attention to boosting Charisma may have been inspired by being unable to flirt with her during an affinity conversation no matter how many times I reloaded.)

-->An idea I had recently to put Alice in the verse was have her as a native-born Wastelander/escapee from a Vault (latter would probably be best to keep her history -- oh cripes, maybe she was from a Vault where BUMBY was OVERSEER, imagine THAT horror) who discovers the history of the “Order of Mysteries” (a group of women, lead by the old voice actress of the Mistress of Mysteries, who turned herself into a legit superhero post-Great War -- unfortunately betrayal led to the group dying out) and decides to take up the mantle, much like the Sole Survivor can become the Silver Shroud. She’d show up not long after Victor starts Shrouding around, asking to meet -- they’d have a little spar, end up fighting another enemy together, and she’d join up as a companion, leading to eventual romance.

-->But the first idea I had to get Alice into the story was. . .well. . .

Let me put it this way -- for quite a while, I was playing both Vampire: the Masquerade -- Bloodlines and Fallout 4 at the same time.

. . .yeah, I think this is going to need another post.

#tell me where to find shelter #fallout 4 #victor van dort #in which I ramble on a lot about an AU that really only lives in my head #so what else is new XD #yeah I was originally going to have the Van Dorts come to America when Victor was 15 #then I thought 'maybe that's too late'#looked at the timing of the Euro-Middle Eastern War #'okay maybe they leave when he's pretty young to get away from THAT mess'#and then I discovered the timing of the New Plague #'I'm not giving him up as English-born Fallout YOU CAN'T MAKE ME'#so yeah now that's happily vague #but he's in Boston and naturalized by the time he ends up in the Army #also can you tell what companion I like the least?#Strong I had high hopes for you #but then you WOULDN'T SHUT UP about Super Mutants killing everything #pathetically he admires me because I took him around killing lots of stuff while exploring the Commonwealth #also why is there no option to comfort Ada when she talks about her loss #I tried to and I got options like Disable Personality #no game fuck you #let me hug the robot #I have Feelings about this game now can you tell?#queued

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