#she also wouldn’t be as good in school after her burnout
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If Annabeth wasn’t a demigod she wouldn’t have found out she had dyslexia till she was like 15 even tho she had the reading level of a 9 year old at that age, but she wouldn’t have known before that because her intelligence makes it look like she doesn’t struggle as much as she does. Then she would have a burnout because she’s been carrying way too much and she wouldn’t have found out she had ADHD until she was at least 17 but probably even later since women don’t get diagnosed as much because they experience it different than men.
#did I just completely project myself in her?#maybe#this happened to me so it happens to her too#cause I decided that#well here you have my life story#maybe a little too personal but idc whoops#she also wouldn’t be as good in school after her burnout#gifted kid burnout#percy jackson#pjo#heroes of olympus#annabeth chase#percy jackson and the olympians#hoo#percabeth#pjo headcanon#riordanverse#rick riordan#rrverse#pjo hoo toa#adhd#dyslexia#neurodiversity#neurodivergent
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Dark!Eddie Munson seems like the type to have a crush on the popular girl and get her pregnant when he has the chance
Secret Admirer
Summary: How were you supposed to know the note left in your locker was a nefarious trap?
Pairing: Dark!Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Word count: 1.2k
Warnings: Non-con, breeding kink, drug mention, reader is in high school but is 18
Note: yay my eddie debut! not exactly how i wanted to start pride month, but what can i say? the pussy wants what she wants. i took a break from my dark!wanda fic to write this and also as an excuse to start my st masterlist. i have a lot more planned for dark!eddie, so get ready, cuz this is just the beginning >:)
You waited for him under the bleachers after the Friday night football game just like he told you to.
You had the note he left in your locker tucked into the waistband of your cheerleading skirt like a good luck charm. You couldn’t stand still, your foot tapping against the ground. Your heart thudded against your ribcage, adrenaline coursing through your veins from all the excitement and anticipation and nervousness.
“Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
You perked up and spun to face the voice, but it wasn’t who you thought it’d be.
You deflated at the sight of Eddie Munson, resident burnout and commander-in-geek. He was leering at you, the burnt end of his joint glowing in the blue dusk. You wrinkled your nose at the smell and shuffled away from him.
“What are you doing out here, all alone in the dark?” He leaned against one of the metal support beams. “Game’s over. Shouldn’t you be getting drunk with your friends somewhere?”
You crossed your arms over your chest, biting back the bitter remark on the tip of your tongue. “I’m waiting for someone.”
“Patrick McKinney?” he asked.
You went rigid, your brow furrowing. “How did you–“
“He’s not coming,” he cut you off.
The hairs on your arms stood on end, and not because of the slight fall chill in the air. “What are you talking about?”
He took a long puff from his joint, keeping you in suspense. When he spoke, tendrils of gray smoke curled from his lips and floated through the air. “I’m the one who wrote the note."
You blinked at him, your mouth agape. A million questions raced through your head, the gears in your mind churning on overdrive, but you couldn’t voice any of them out loud.
“Who knew it’d be so easy to get you alone?” He chuckled, brown curls flying as he shook his head. “I saw the way you practically drooled over Patrick in class, how you doodled hearts around his name in your notebook like a lovesick puppy,” he sneered. “All I had to do was slip a note in your locker, and boom!” He clapped, and the sudden noise made you jolt. He gestured to you. “Here you are."
The note tucked into your skirt felt like it was searing your skin. “But why?”
“Well, if I’d put my name on that note, you wouldn’t exactly have shown up, would you?” He tilted his head, his round, brown eyes glued to you. “But don’t worry, everything else I wrote was very much true.”
You thought back to all the doting words in the note, the way he’d spilled his guts and confessed his undying love for you from afar. They’d made you giddy and lightheaded just mere hours ago, but now your stomach was rolling for a whole other reason entirely.
You scanned the area, searching for potential escape routes. “Well, my friends are probably wondering where I am, so…” you trailed off.
Just as you were about to sidestep him, a man appeared out of the shadows blocking your path. He towered over you, wearing a Hellfire Club t-shirt with his features set into a grim expression. You turned in the other direction, but one of Eddie’s lackeys was there too. It was like they were multiplying out of thin air.
“Now, now,” Eddie tutted, stalking towards you, “I told you the truth. It’s only right that you do the same thing for me in return.”
The trio started to close in on you, backing you up into the bleachers. You shrunk in on yourself. The field was long empty. Everyone had either gone home or migrated to one of the post-game house parties to celebrate another triumphant win.
If you screamed, nobody would hear you, and Eddie knew that.
“What do you want from me?” you murmured, though you were terrified of the answer.
“Nothing you don’t want.” His grin was taunting. "That is why you came here after all, right? For Patrick to give it to you good?”
You shook your head. “No,” you stuttered, unsure of yourself, “it’s not–“
“Why should it make any difference if it’s me then?” He steamrolled right over you. “You hardly know the guy. I mean, I didn’t even have to fake his handwriting to convince you I was him.”
Your bottom lip was trembling. You could hardly get a word out. “Stop–“
“Is it ‘cause I’m not a meathead athlete like him?” he seethed. “‘Cause trust me, baby, I’ll make you feel better than he ever could.”
Hot tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes and dripped down your cheeks. You were sniffling now, trying not to crumble into a sobbing mess in the face of clear and present danger.
“He may not notice you, baby, but I do.” His eyes darkened until they were impossibly black, absorbing all light that hit them. “And I’m going to make it so you’ll have to notice me from now on.”
Your muscles locked into place like a deer in headlights, waiting for what came next with bated breath. He let the joint slip from between his index finger and his thumb, dropping it to the ground. He crushed it beneath the heel of his boot, dashing its insides against the concrete. “Hold her.”
At his command, his lackeys leapt into action, grabbing each of your arms and pinning you back against the bleachers. You cried out, writhing in their grip, but they remained strong like they were made of stone. You heard the jingle of Eddie’s belt and turned your head, averting your gaze.
“The jock and the cheerleader. A little cliche, don’t you think?” He snickered. “You’re better than that, baby."
He flipped up your skirt, and you felt him pull your panties to the side. You gasped as the blunt head of his cock prodded at your entrance. You squeezed your eyes shut, readying yourself, but nothing could’ve prepared you for the pain you felt when he pushed into you.
You let out an earsplitting shriek that rang out in the open air. Your body tensed like a string pulled taut, poised to snap at any moment. The world spun around you as you hyperventilated, fuzzy dots appearing over your vision. You felt like you were close to passing out, but that would’ve been too merciful.
“Stop struggling,” Eddie hissed between pants. “You’re only making it harder on yourself. Just relax.”
It was all a blur after that. The metal of the bleachers dug into your back with every thrust. Hands gripped your arms so tight, they left finger-shaped bruises on your skin for days. Deep grunts and low groans filled your ears, and menacing faces loomed over you, all dark eyes and sharp teeth.
After what felt like a millennia later, it was finally over, and they let go of you. Your knees buckled, your legs turned to jelly, and you collapsed in a heap on the dirty ground. You curled into a ball, hugging your knees to your chest as you quivered. Your body ached all over, your throat was hoarse from screaming, and there was a sharp, jabbing sting in your core.
Eddie stooped down at your side, his face filling your vision. “It’s not over yet.” He scooped his release dribbling down the inside of your thigh and pushed it back inside you. He rested his hand over your lower abdomen. “It’s only just begun."
#dark!fic#eddie munson#dark!eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#stranger things#dark!eddie munson x reader#dark!eddie munson x you#dark!eddie munson x y/n#fanfiction#drabble
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Teen wolf x reader - family isn’t blood
Would I be able to request a teen wolf imagine where reader is an orphan who is in the pack, and constantly trying to prove themselves worthy to the pack, and the pack (more so Alison and Lydia if that’s ok?) helping reader see that they are worthy and have a family with the pack and worrying about them being so reckless, please??? - Anon💜
You weren’t sure how long it had been, you started your research after the pack meeting the night before, now the sunlight was breaking through your windows.
Your mind was begging for your to stop, to get some rest, but you ignored it, still flicking through hooks and webpages you had found.
“Looks like someone’s been busy.”
Looking up from your desk, you smiled at Alison and waved her into your room, gesturing for her to take a seat anywhere she wanted.
“Yeah, I’ve found a bit but not much, though these books look promising.”
You pointed to the large pile of old looking books next to you before turning around to fully face her.
“What’s up anyways?” You asked.
“Nothing, I woke up not long ago and saw you were awake.” She smiled.
You hummed and nodded your head, looking at the window before turning back to her.
“Is your dad awake?”
“Yeah, but he left awhile ago, left a note.”
Again you nodded and went back to what you were doing which made Alison frown a little as she looked at you.
It was easy to see you hadn’t slept, your bed was still made, and she knew you made it every morning, you were still wearing the same clothes from last night, and there was a number of snacks and drinks scattered across your desk.
She also recalled something in a text her dad had sent her about your light being on whenever he walked past your room a few times last night.
“(Y/N)?”
You stopped again and turned around to face her, titling your head a little as you waited for her to carry on.
“Have you slept?”
“No, I wasn’t tired last night.”
“That’s not healthy (Y/N).” She scolded lightly.
Again you just shrugged and turned back around, and she sighed a little as she shook her head at you.
She grabbed her phone from her pocket and sent the pack a text, saying you hadn’t slept.
They kept a log of things you did, reckless things, that to anyone else would’ve just seen like normal teenager things to do, but they all knew it was more than that.
Last week you nearly broke your arm helping Stiles, and if it wasn’t for the fact Scott, Stiles and Chris had dragged you to Malissa, you wouldn’t have bothered to get it checked out.
Setting her phone down, she watched you for a few moments before walking over and placing her hand over the book you were reading.
Looking up, you rose a brow at Alison.
“Come on, let’s at least get breakfast.”
You thought for a second.
“Yeah, I can go for food. Where to?”
“That cafe you like?” Alison offered.
You beamed happily at that and she left so you could shower and change before you guys made your way to the cafe.
Stiles, Scott and Issac were there waiting and you slid into the booth next to the two werewolves.
“Where’s Lydia?” Stiles asked.
“Said she’d be here in a few.” You replied.
You didn’t have school for a while yet, so you thought inviting everyone to breakfast before going to classes would be nice.
And it was, you all talked and joked like normal teenagers, then you all headed to the school were you had to spend the day suffering in class.
You could barely keep yourself awake, and by lunch time everyone else had noticed this as well.
“Just go home.” Scott said gently.
“Yeah, I’ll bring your work by later, I’m sure coach won’t care.” Issac nodded.
You waved the pair off.
“It’s fine, nothing serious.” You yawned.
“You’re basically falling asleep in your lunch, go home.” Stiles said.
You shook your head at him.
“No, it’s fine.”
“You’re exhausted, you’re overworking yourself (Y/N), this isn’t good. You’re going to make yourself sick, or burnout.” Lydia scolded.
You shrugged a little as you nibbled on a bit of your lunch, gazing out the window at some birds that were flying around.
“So what? Doesn’t really matter.” You replied.
“It does, you’re worrying everyone.” Alison said.
“Who’s their to worry? Clearly not my family, plus with the parent teacher conference coming up I’d much rather just stay focused, you guys are all going to be busy that night and we’ve got a deadline for the night after.”
You pushed your lunch away and stood up.
“Anyways, gotta run, need to ask Peter and Derek some questions, tell coach I’m sick or whatever he won’t even notice I’m gone.”
With that, you left and they all shared a look of wordy as they watched you leave the building.
You drove to Derek’s place and shot him a text saying you were coming up before you made your way up to the loft.
Letting yourself in, you spotted the pair around the desk in the middle of the room and you walked over, taking a seat on the edge of it.
“And to what do we owe the pleasure?” Peter smirked.
“Just got some questions about some stuff I read last night if you guys got time?”
“Sure, but first things first we need to speak with you.” Derek said.
You sighed, rolling your eyes at him.
“You guys aren’t my parents, don’t scold me like I’m some kid okay? I can take care of myself, now, will you listen to what I found or not?”
“Only if you tell us why you’re being so reckless with your well-being.” Peter said.
You scoffed a little bit and stood up, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked at the two older werewolves.
“It’s none of your business, and who are you to judge my choices anyways? You’re a murderous psychopath and Derek is on the run from like every cop between here and freaking narnia.”
“We’re just worried.” Derek sighed.
“Well I don’t need you to worry about me, now can we please get down to it.” You snapped.
Finally the two agreed, and you ran everything you had found by them, asking them a few questions you thought might help your scavenger hunt.
After a few hours you had more information and you finally left to go back to your temporary home with Alison and her father.
Walking in, you made your way to your room but stopped when you saw Alison and Lydia sat on your bed.
“What?”
“We just want to talk.” Lydia said gently.
“Well I don’t want to talk, I’m busy.”
You sat down and you desk and narrowed down your piles of books into just a few.
“Fine, just listen. We’re all worried about you (Y/N), okay? You act like it’s you against the world, like the world is out to get you and you need to prove something to everyone.” Alison said.
You tried your best to ignore them.
“The truth is, no one is out to get you okay? We just want to help you, we want you to take care of yourself. And we know you’re not used to people being like this towards you, and we’re sorry about that, and that you had to go through that, but we mean it.”
You froze.
“You’re not my family…” you grumbled.
“We might not be your biological family, but family is much more than blood. You’re part of the pack (Y/N), and this pack is family.” Lydia said softly.
You slowly turned around to face them, and the pair of them smiled at you.
“We are your family, and we’re always going to be your family, okay?” Lydia asked.
You stared at them both for a moment.
“Why?”
“Because we love you moron, everyone loves you, even Peter even though he’s a hardass. Now will you please get some sleep, we can do whatever research it is you’re doing.” Alison said.
You sighed, and finally nodded your head.
You were exhausted and you really wanted to sleep, so you filled them in on what it is they were looking for.
While Alison took your spot at your desk, Lydia made sure you actually got into your bed, and she sat next to you as you laid down staring at the ceiling.
You reached out and took her hand, mumbling a small thanks as you quickly drifted to sleep
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when he’s jealous — P1HARMONY!maknae line
what are the maknae’s like when they’re jealous? ft. maknae line!p1harmony x gn!reader genre! jealousy, fluff w/c! 1302
a/n: sorry this took sooo long! way overdue :( in the midst of a burnout from summer courses i’ve also been stressing about going back to college for my second year. i kind of rushed jongseob’s and idk if you would consider soul’s as a ‘jealousy’ thing. this is the best i could do for now >_<
intak
both you and intak started off as individualists on social media filming choreography videos of yourselves. from kpop covers to tiktok challenges to freestyles, you name it. now, the two of you were dancing together after being scouted and auditioning for a local dance crew in your area. joining a team was the least of your expectations. for a while you were convinced that you’d have to continue your hobby as a soloist, but becoming a part of a second family was beyond your thinking.
it was another long day of filming. you sat on the edge of the sidewalk downing a bottle of water and wiping at the sweat gathering on your forehead.
“here, use this instead. it’s clean,” you looked up to see intak with his arm outstretched offering you a fresh towel. you thanked him with a shy smile and dabbed at your skin, sighing softly. intak sat next to you, mirroring your expression and taking a swig of water from his own bottle.
“you did good today. well, i mean like, you always dance… good.” he rubbed the nape of his neck awkwardly, mentally cursing himself for probably looking stupid just trying to spark a casual convo.
you giggled, “thank you, you did really good today as well.”
a beat of silence passes. intak purses his lips in a thin line while racking through his brain to think of something to say. just as he’s about to open his mouth someone has already beaten him to it.
“hey,” neither you nor intak recognizes this person and to say you’re caught off guard would be an understatement. “i saw you dancing and just wanted to say you’re like really cute.” the stranger has you blushing at the compliment. it doesn’t sit well with intak. he grits his teeth, subconsciously clenching his jaw to bite back from intervening.
“i hope this isn’t weird and i’ll totally respect your privacy but i was wondering if…” they look off to the side. intak’s eyes narrow at their nervous demeanor. “could i get your num—“
the brunette pushes himself off the curb of the sidewalk and without thinking— as if his mind completely went on autopilot— intak grabs your wrist. pulling you to your feet while almost stumbling into his arms. “sorry we gotta go record one more take for the video.” before you could even think to retort or apologize to the person, you’re being dragged behind intak with his back faced to you.
your cheeks are burning once again, this time for a completely different reason— and it’s not because of the stranger from before.
soul
joining school clubs were never your forte, but when your best friend forced you to sign up for one so she “wouldn’t be alone,” you had no other choice but to comply and simply go along with her pleas. knowing her, she’d never let you hear the end of it unless she successfully got her way; spoiled as always.
what you didn’t expect was the mandatory participation for every club meeting or event that was organized. along with the after school hour meetings that everyone had to attend.
it was thirty minutes past five. you’ve been on campus since eight in the morning and now you’re currently stuck having to help the club prepare signs for the festival tomorrow. your friend left an hour ago for a family dinner. since then you’ve been painting letters on poster boards with riki and shota as the faint sound of music playing from the speaker fills the quiet void of the classroom.
“ah shoot,” you curse out a string of profanities under your breath. riki looks up from the corner of his poorly done paint strokes in an attempt to ‘design’ the poster. a splash of blue from who knows where and who knows how it got there creates a stain on your skirt. in the most obvious spot, may i add.
you audibly groan and this time shota’s eyes are focused on you too. he immediately recognizes the new dash of color on your school uniform, confirming that the stain is indeed evident. “i literally just bought this skirt recently and now there’s paint on it.”
“here,” riki grabs a nearby paper towel and in an attempt tries to help you wipe away most of the paint. to both his and your dismay, it only worsens the stain, seeping further into the material of your skirt. “ah— i’m so sorry y/n!”
“it’s o-okay,” you chuckle nervously.
shota rummages through his bag to find his handkerchief and leaves quietly as the two of you hastily tend to the paint on your skirt. he runs the cloth under water, ringing it out to a damp level, and returns to the corner of the classroom. he kneels next to you, dabbing at the stain. a dark, wet spot accumulates on your skirt and shota uses a dry paper towel to blot the water the best that he can.
it works, just a tiny bit, better than what riki could come up with and erased most of the disaster. “oh my god, thanks sho-chan.” you sigh in relief. hopefully the washing machine back home can take care of the rest.
shota nods and smiles softly to himself knowing that he was of help… unlike some people.
jongseob
it’s lunchtime when jongseob visits your class. you’re sitting next to the window at your desk eating the food your mom packed while listening to seventeen’s discography. jongseob taps your shoulder, startling you in the process of doing so and you flinch ever so slightly. the red head smiles with a mischievous grin at your reaction.
you roll your eyes and pull out the right side of your earbuds. “what’s up? did you eat already?”
jongseob tugs the chair nearest to him in arm’s length and drags it next to your side, making himself comfortable on the stiff wooden seat. “yup, already ate lunch for the day.” you nod, signaling that you were listening and continue to eat.
the all-too-familiar intro to rock with you begins playing. tempted by the catchy melody of the song you subconsciously hum to yourself while bobbing your head along to the beat.
“whacha listening to?” jongseob reaches for your phone and you almost scream at him not to when his hand comes into view. he looks at you confused when you snatch it away from him. “why can’t i see?” he pouts.
you shake your head furiously, cheeks filled with rice as you furrow your eyebrows. you swallow the food stored in your mouth and reply to jongseob’s question with a dry answer. “because,”
“because what? you got something embarrassing on there?”
you try to mask the guilt on your face to his question. it’s not that it’s embarrassing per se, but you rather not have someone other than you to look at your phone. specifically your lockscreen. a picture of your bias to be precise. a picture that may or not have been edited that you photoshopped yourself into to make it look like you were in the photo with said bias.
“i bet it’s not that bad—“ jongseob extends his arm to grab your phone. when you attempt to hold him back your pair of chopsticks go flying onto the ground, clattering due to the metal material, and you’re practically scrambling to pick up your utensils. by the time you slide back into your seat with fuming cheeks you look to jongseob for a reaction.
his expression is unreadable that it spikes your anxiety. what could he be possibly thinking?
the red head snickers and you turn to him with a quirked eyebrow. “what? what is it?”
“nothing,” jongseob sets your phone back in its previous spot and lets out a bitter laugh. “i just think we could recreate that picture much better than your silly little edit.”
#cgi-aenergy#p1harmony#p1harmony imagines#p1harmony scenarios#hwang intak#intak x reader#intak imagines#soul x reader#shota x reader#haku shota#shota imagines#jongseob x reader#jongseob imagines#p1h jongseob#kpop imagines
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saw your latest post and I feel you! all though I am not in law school, I am studying criminal justice and sometimes it can be rough. despite of all of it, take time for yourself and do the things you love. i found that by doing this it prevents me from burnout and keep motivated. Good luck!
As for blurbs, I was wondering if it’s possible of doing of Arthur thinking about leaving the gang with his s/o and how he would do it in the end (no tb Arthur!!! he needs love!)
awwww. thank you so much. i’m here again today, but this class i actually enjoy… you’re very kind 🩵
but let’s go
so let’s say hosea is still alive when arthur decides it’s time to leave the gang, because i think hosea and john would help him a lot with that.
for me, i think arthur would start to think about that when he thought about isaac. maybe if he was around more, maybe we would be able to protect him.
he doesn’t want that to happen again. he wants to be around you and your future family all the time. and i also think he would love having a ranch, he would love to work around. so, he starts planning.
at first, he wouldn’t tell you. i think we would be so unfamiliar with this felling. he would want to process his thoughts first. then, when his thoughts were in the right place, he would talk to you about it. it would be subtle, a simple conversation when you both were drinking in camp, around the fire.
you would agree. of course. who wouldn’t want a quiet life with him? the possibility of marriage, children and a happy life? you could never deny that.
he would ask hosea for help finding a ranch, a nice little cabin. hosea would help him, of course, without letting dutch knows. he wouldn’t help the gang with his money that often, and eventually dutch would notice that. he grows suspicious, but does nothing about it.
when time comes, he would tell some people about it. sadie, john (he knew since the beginning), some of the girls. and he would invite abigail and jack to go with you. he loves them, he thinks they deserve a better life and if john wasn’t giving them that, he would. she wanted to accept, but something told her that maybe one day john could do the same for them. so, she stayed.
you would leave at night. quietly. after the gang had a a little party, probably. everyone would be drunk asleep.
😭😭😭😭 i want that life.
#arthur morgan imagine#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan#dina writes! 🩷#arthur morgan fluff#red dead redemption 2
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Content notes: Stancy, homophobic slur, high school theater production
Steve wouldn’t normally go to this kind of thing—he didn’t, his whole freshman year, even though a junior had invited him. He and Tommy H. knew that being an upperclassman didn’t automatically make you cool, even then.
But love has him doing some crazy stuff, he guesses. Tommy H. and Carol are going to find out about this eventually, but he’s willing to put up with their teasing because Nancy likes Shakespeare.
She’s so smart. He never thought he’d be into a girl like Nancy Wheeler, but something about her just has him all mixed up, and he loves it. She’s a little uptight and particular in a way he never would’ve bothered with, last year, but now he’s way more mature and he can see the spark she has.
It’s like a movie, the way he looked at her and saw how beautiful she was underneath the nerdy getup, and now they’re together and this is his happy ending and everything is going to be perfect forever. They’re going to go to the same college and get married when they graduate, and have a bunch of kids; Steve’s going to work for his dad, and Nancy’s probably going to get some fancy secretary job or something when the kids are old enough to go to school. He bets she’d be really great at that kind of thing.
It feels really good to have that kind of security in his future. He’s a simple guy, he doesn’t want to change the world or anything, he just wants a real home and a real family with Nancy. And that means doing stuff she likes, which is why he’s crammed into an auditorium seat, watching some chubby freshman with plastic leaves stuck in his afro squeak, “A merry hour was never wasted there! But, uh, look, fairy, here comes Oberon.”
Someone shakes a sheet of aluminum from offstage, and a blonde girl in a tiara and shiny princess gown with bright colors painted around her eyes steps onto the stage.
She just stands there for a second, and Steve’s starting to wonder if she’s forgotten her lines when Nancy nudges him and tilts her head meaningfully to the back of the auditorium, where Eddie Munson is strolling down the aisle like he’s got all the time in the world.
It takes Steve a second to recognize Eddie. While the blonde girl’s costume is all neon and pastel, Eddie’s got coal-black makeup smeared over his eyes almost like a mask. He’s wearing some ridiculous outfit with a lot of black lace and a silky, billowing black shirt cinched at the waist with a belt so thick it looks almost like a corset.
When he saunters past Steve’s row, it becomes clear that he’s also wearing knee-high leather boots.
Someone a few rows away coughs, “Faggot,” and a cloud of giggles rises in the auditorium.
“That’s enough, Paul,” says Mr. Williams, in a way that doesn’t sound like he’s going to do anything about it if Paul ignores him.
Eddie must not have heard, because he doesn’t even glance over. “Ill met by moonlight,” he sings out. His voice drops to a smoky purr. “Proud Titania.”
He jumps right up onto the stage, only stumbling a little bit, and drops to one knee to kiss the blonde girl’s hand.
She yanks it away, sneering. “Jealous Oberon—fairies, skip hence. I have foresworn his bed and company.”
The old-timey language is pretty hard for Steve to follow, but even if the words don’t make any sense, it’s not hard at all to understand Eddie’s tone when he looks up at the girl and says in that low, clear voice, with just a hint of steel: “Tarry, rash wanton. Am I not thy lord?”
Jesus. Steve always thought of Eddie Munson as kind of a burnout loser—the kind of guy who’d be a virgin living in his mom’s basement until he was really old, like twenty-five or something.
But with his ragged metalhead rat’s nest pulled back from his face with small braids, leather cords wrapped around his wrists and throat, Eddie doesn’t look like a loser at all. Steve bets the drama girls are practically throwing themselves at him all the time.
After the show, Nancy smiles up at him. “What did you think?” she asks.
Steve tucks her more securely under his arm and smiles back. “I liked it,” he says. “Didn’t think I would. But I guess you’ve got pretty good taste, Nancy Wheeler.”
He leans over to kiss her, slow and sweet, and he thinks that there’s nothing else in the world he could possibly want.
purify our misfit ways on AO3
Fic-specific asks
#fic: purify our misfit ways#askbox#ask games#couldn't pass up a chance to do this one too!#I've decided that in this universe Jeff was Puck and that's how he and Eddie met#(I think I have the timelines right?)#also I couldn't figure out a way to fit this in but Barb painted some scenery which is why Nancy actually wanted to go
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My thoughts on the Dr. Stone special (“Dr. Stone: Ryusui”)
My thoughts after watching Dr. Stone: Ryusui:
01. A drama club! XD And it looks like the familiar school building with the clock HAS to show up in every anime series, even Dr. Stone! :D
02. Kohaku looks like a serious narrator :O And it's nice to hear her talk this much! :)
03. Taiju and Yuzuriha as themselves, Chrome as Senku, Kinro and Ginro as one single tree... Suika with multiple parts, and they even got a swallow to join! :) Maybe it's the same one Senku first revived, and the one that flew above their expedition caravan in Season Two! :D
04. Kinro and Ginro's shocked acting! XD But they're still better than Chrome during the tournament arc! ...Actually, Chrome's acting has improved a LOT from the tournament arc! :D
05. Yo has really not learned his lesson about laughing at the stone world era folks...
06. What I don't understand about Magma's boat entry is... why are the human figures in the water instead of on the boat?
07. Yo's raft was more impressive in his imagination than in reality...
08. The way Senku's eyes shown as he looked at the first drawing... :) (I don't think he acknowledged the second drawing, haha!)
09. Yeah... with THAT drawing, Senku DEFINITELY wins! Everybody was really impressed! :D
10. Don't worry, Chrome and Kaseki... you have a ton of people who can help you build the ship! :)
11. Looks like Senku still plans on using sextants on the ship!
12. Yay, Kohaku's on the digging expedition! :) But, as she had to remind Senku, she is NOT a gorilla :D
13. I always like it when Senku and Kohaku are in scenes together :) They've both gotten curious about that Ryusui dude...
14. "We won't find anyone who's a more skilled sailor than Ryusui-kun..." Minami's case against Ryusui was hopeless as soon as she uttered those words XD
15. Ryusui's back! :D
16. And Burnout Syndomes is back with Good Morning [New] World! :) It's slightly different from the original opening song - slower, lower, more distorted in parts - but the song still sounds exhilarating! :O A lot of the character images are from the previous two seasons, and about the running scene, I love that Kohaku is in the lead, Chrome gets a burst of energy because of his excitement, and everybody, even Gen (and Ryusui, who's in the middle), eventually leaves Senku and his poor stamina behind... so accurate! XD
17. When I first heard Ryusui's deep voice in the initial trailer, I, like many people, was perplexed and weirded out and thought it didn't suit him at all :D But now, I think his voice makes a lot of sense to be that way - he's older than the MAIN main cast (except for Kaseki), and is going to be a leader in his own right - it wouldn't feel right for him to a have thin, youthful, teenager-y voice :)
18. Ryusui, stop traumatizing poor, innocent Kohaku and put some clothes on! :O
19. Poor Ryusui has no Francois just yet :) Also, how do his fingers end up in that formation after snapping? My fingers don’t look like that after I snap them... :O
20. Yeah, seriously, how does his middle finger also end up in the air?
21. Ryusui’s kind of like Tsukasa - very quick on the uptake! While Tsukasa’s intelligence took form in not surrendering the protection of the stone until he knew the situation AND using that stone to his advantage, Ryusui’s intelligence was shown in his immediate grasp of the facts after thousands of years of being pertrified :)
22. Thank you, Minami, for giving Ryusui clothing so that he can finally cover himself up! XD
23. Ooh, so Magma considers Kohaku (and Minami) and attractive... interesting information... :D Aww, poor Nikki... and also, with being kicked there, maybe poor Magma, too... :O
24. Wow, Ryusui doesn’t have sailing skills, he has storm prediction skills, too! Which, I suppose, are also included in sailing skills... but still, quite impressive! Way to show his knowledge this early on! :D
25. This is really interesting; four of the five wise generals are out there covering the lumber for the ship! :) Really smart of Senku to test him like that, and I like the detail that Senku’s coat is a darker color because it’s soaked from the rain! :)
26. Ah, a new title for Chrome - resource king! :D Wow... Chrome as the lead explorer, Kohaku and her amazing eyesight, and Ukyo with his incredible hearing... that is an all-star resource expedition team! I think Suika would have made the team even better, but that might have just been overkill in terms of awesomeness XD
27. Ryusui gets an oil field, and the kingdom of science gets currency XD And he has a gold-plated house, hahaha! Ramen, cotton candy, and manga all for sale... just like in the old (current) days... And why does Senku look so evil?! :D
28. Making the link between trust in Senku and trust in his new currency... Ryusui’s a wily one! :)
29. Ukyo’s ears and Kohaku’s eyes... wow, what a combination! :D
30. That’s a GIGANTIC WATERFALL!! :O
31. And poor Ukyo... he’s the only one in their group of three who truly knows what it means to now have a gigantic waterfall near Mt. Fuji... :(
32. Aww, Suika’s wistful bird idea gave Senku an awesome scientific idea! :D And even Ryusui is shocked by Senku and Gen’s tactics! XD
33. It’s really funny that Magma was really aware of what Yo’s reaction might be! :D And this one time, Yo was totally casual and admitted his own ignorance! :)
34. Kaseki was so excited and so pumped up, so read for a long, painstaking roadmap to human flight... but the roadmap only had three stages! XD
35. I LOVE that Senku also depends on Yuzuriha and really respects her skills and is asking for her help! :) I mean, he’s actually bowing to her! I don’t think I’ve EVER seen him to that to ANYBODY! Wow! :O I love their faith in each other and their friendship! :D And they did a high five too; awesome!! :D
36. Kinro’s so diligent, but even he wants the thread spinning to end! XD
37. Magma asked a very logical question... but honestly, Yuzuriha’s response made a lot of sense, too! It IS easy work, just... incredibly tedious... :O She’s so adorable, daydreaming about her little, handheld loom! :)
38. Wow, that’s an incredible loom! I think it even has a seat cushion! And there’s a place for drinks, and a lamp! Not to mention the, you know, actual LOOM part... :D
39. Kaseki isn’t sure if this was what Yuzuriha wanted, and Senku is ADORABLE, wondering if Yuzuriha wanted an electric loom! :)
40. I don’t know how looms work, but I’m glad Yuzuriha does! :D Nikki’s going to dye cloth, and Ginro is so sick of spinning thread... XD I love Suika enjoying how soft the cloth is! :D
41. Oh, poor Kinro is so tired from spinning all that thread! :O Actually, everybody is exhausted! XD
42. It’s really interesting how Senku chooses his scruples XD But it’s nice to think that he’s usually a very ethical person (not being cool with Gen using blank paper to motivate everybody) and saves his evil side for when he’s trying to win a bloodless war (the fake Lilian plan) :)
43. I really like that he went to Yuzuriha again for the department store! :D Ah, so Yuzuriha and Kinro and Ginro are friendly enough to be familiar with each other; that’s great! :) And of course, Taiju would be totally used to this side of Yuzuriha! :D
44. Ruri, Kinro, Suika... they were either embarrassed or awkward, but Kaseki walked like a pro! I’m guessing that they asked the villagers to be their models because the modern era folks would be the main target audience for that modern clothing :)
45. Oh, Ryusui... Oh, Senku and Gen... I suppose it all worked out in the end...? XD
46. Whoa, Chrome just up and RAN as soon as he heard about the flying machine! Wait, why didn’t Senku tell him sooner?! XD
47. Senku with his hot-air balloon mathematics... :O Suika and Ginro are acting like sewing is so normal for them; Ginro doesn’t even look like he’s paying full attention but he’s still really fast and productive! After sewing hard leather all the time, it must be really easy for Suika and Ginro and the others to sew soft cloth! :)
48. Gen’s playing cards for the hot air balloon theory have “Theory of Evolution” and “Natural Selection” written on them; haha! XD
49. “You’ll never get a platinum ticket like that again” - intriguing word choice... :D
50. Taiju, that’s a very, very good question... XD
51. Chrome RAN all the way from Ishigami Village to the kingdom of science’s new headquarters... AND he drew the right card through willpower alone! (Cough, cough; Gen totally didn’t influence that at all...) He’s so happy! :D
52. They’re flying; they’re flying! :O Kasek’s so happy that he cried, and he made ME cry, too! :’) And Chrome so, so, happy... this is an amazing moment for him; for all of them... :)
53. Chrome’s so happy about being amongst the birds! :) But Senku... not so much... wow, that was like a Matrix-style dodge from Senku! His reflexes ain’t bad! :O
54. Ah, so Ishigami Village is a two-day walk away if you’re REALLY in a rush, like Chrome was... and two hours away by hot-air balloon! :)
55. Ooh, Ryusui just called Chrome an AMATEUR adventurer! Those are fightin’ words! :O I really like that Chrome dropped some knowledge about the wind and rivers to back up his status as an EXPERIENCED land adventurer! :D
56. The big antagonist for this special is... a dragon-shaped cumulonimbus cloud XD And, wow, they’re really lucky to be able to keep their balance inside that wildly flying hot-air balloon! :O
57. Oh, Chrome has faced - and run away from - a black/grey bear, with Mister Bear running at 50 kilometers per hour and Mister Chrome running at 30 kilometers per hour... :O And he sort of used his land experience to help him in the air! :)
58. Wow, the revival fluid is helping them even now... and SENKU was blasted out of the hot-air balloon! Scary! :O
59. They did it! They defeated Mister Cumulonimbus! :D And... Senku, with his poor stamina, is still hanging outside the hot-air balloon! XD
60. Aww, Kohaku’s there with the flag! :) And she’s amazed that they’re flying! :O She said Chrome and Ryusui’s names quietly, but she shouted happily and waved when it came to Senku’s name! :D
61. Maybe they were all just taking a break or something, but it’s really nice that everybody was gathered there near Gen and the cell phone, as if they were all waiting for news for the hot-air balloon crew’s safe arrival! :)
62. Nice jump from Kohaku! :O Very twirly! Oh, so it was Ukyo who called Gen! And I’m glad the explanation for the cards and the nature of choice was show here, just at the end :)
63. Chrome was acknowledged by Ryusui as a fellow PROFESSIONAL adventurer! :D And a high- uh, middle-five AND a fist bump between them? Nice! :D And... Senku’s STILL hanging from outside the hot-air balloon, hahaha! XD
64. Senku and Chrome are excited to learn more about the world, Ryusui will take them where they need to go, and Kohaku and Ukyo are eager for them to descend to Ishigami Village! :D Our next goal is to make a map... and after that, to find oil! Congratulations to Ryusui on his (unpetrified) television debut! :O This was a marvelous TV special! ^_^ (And I can FINALLY watch Season Three, yay! :D)
https :// fireflyhwufanficwriter . tumblr . com / MyDrStoneEpisodeMangaThoughts
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Hey Bingo Buddy! I've been devouring your posts about Faith today and I am genuinely SO into what you're doing! Can you share more about her story, pretty please? 👀
💖💖Thank you for the Ask!!💖💖
(Thank you so much! 🥰 - I am also loving your OC banner setup, and the description of Vinnie was fantastic. Radio static, plant names, and elevator music killed me 😂🤣; I was hoping to catch up on Fallout before jumping in (4 has been in my ‘to play’ stack for way too long), but sadly, I don’t think there’s enough Dramamine in the house to get me through… might jump to wikis for world background.)
More on Faith and her Story:
When I began to answer this, I started writing about Faith’s backstory. Coming from a low income household in a decaying town. Striving to escape at all costs to the point of developing deep-seeded neurosis. Anxiety. Burnout. But it didn't feel accurate to the tone of her story. Struggles with coming of age, pressures of getting into college? That's a dime a dozen. Dull. What the fuck are we lingering on that for, she sure as shit isn't. No, how she got to Marsden, Pennsylvania was irrelevant, only that she got there.
In Marsden, she found a place where she felt free. Free from the pressure. Free to express herself. Relax. Find her voice. Only in this new space could she understand that her happiness came from being true to herself and not from a mark on a paper. Success in her studies quickly took a back burner to self discovery.
Suffice to say, her new path did not lead to much financial stability, but it was of no concern to her. Grade school Faith may have followed in line, but post grad Faith couldn’t give two shits. She knew what that life held, and it certainly wasn’t doing fuck all for her wellbeing.
And that life certainly didn't have him.
Along with Paul came a new appreciation for the beauty around her. Nature. Humanity. He found amusement in all aspects of his life, despite the fact that humanity sometimes wanted little to do with his cheeky bullshit. It was infectious. Time with him truly was blissful.
He was a light in her life that was extinguished much too soon.
Many memories have faded into a blur since the night of that phone call, drowned in the burning liquid that provided the only comfort in his absence. And comfort was needed. Between the police pushing his ever growing cold case to the side, the local clubs fostering more problematic suspects than she could count, and the college completely closing off his office to her, anger and loneliness did nothing but build with little outlet.
So she drank the pain away. Smoked a cloud to hide behind. Self preservation went to shit as she sat back and wished for the time to come when she would see him again. Or not see anything at all. Fuck if she knew what came after this, and nothing would certainly be better than existing with the dull ache in her chest that refused to subside.
But she soon found the alcohol didn’t just provide comfort, it provided sight.
She could see him.
Talk to him.
Inebriation distorted the world, but it meant that he was in it once more. Or what was left behind. Even now, she doesn’t pretend to know what comes after all this. She doesn’t pretend, and she doesn’t question. Wouldn’t question. Never. Not if it would risk whatever additional time she was being given right now.
Ghosts were real. He was real. And he was about to get her involved in a plot that any sane person wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.
Good thing her sense of self preservation had already went to shit.
#mouse is back on her nonsense#thank you again for the ask!#original story#oc: faith lochren#ocb2023
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(Ex) best friends and ghosting.
Recently, I got ghosted by my former best friend. We had been friends since 4th grade back in elementary school. After we got to know each other, we were inseparable ever since. Our friendship lasted many years and I guess we both were something the other one needed badly in her life. For a very long time, she was my only close friend and I shared everything with her. My time, my feelings, my secrets. I would have sacrificed my own life for her and I trusted her with my life. She was everything for me. I was there for her and so was she for me. Always.
After elementary school, she moved away. Not far away but we both did not have money for buying public transport tickets again and again and also we were both still quite young. So we couldn't meet that often any more. But our friendship got through this.
After several further years, I moved away as well. Farther away. Slowly, our contact decreased more and more. I got depressed. I realized that it was a bad decision to move away. I hated my job there and my relationship with my ex boyfriend went straight downhill. I endured this situation for a while. For too long. But I managed to move forward with my life and moved back near my hometown. I was optimistic again, I felt better.
My life seemed to be quite good for some time but it took not long to go downhill again. And it got worse than ever. Depression hit me like Mount Everest in my face, deaths of beloved people, bullying at work, symptoms of burnout, and another traumatic situation hit me; and it took me a long time to get out of these dark places. I didn't talk about this a lot and, above all, with very few people. I didn't have the energy to talk about it and so I didn't tell her. I didn't ask her for help. I just couldn't. I wanted contact with her, I wanted her help - because she was through such things as well and managed to get over it - but I just couldn't.
She had troubles keeping in touch in general. I knew that and it was ok for me most of the time. Our friendship was not weakened by not texting every day or even every week or month. It was fine for me being "in charge" for keeping in touch. But this changed with my depression. Keeping in touch with family and friends is - until to date - one of my biggest issues and challenges me a lot. Answering messages, calling through etc. It really drained and still drains all my energy. I wished that she would check up on me more often when I didn't text at all. But she didn't.
After I texted her again some time later and tried to explain why I wasn't keeping in touch any more - when I was about to start therapy - she explained to me that it wasn't her intention to hurt me by not texting. She was under the impression that - now that I had a new boyfriend after moving back near my hometown - I was so happy, I wouldn't need her anymore. Obviously, we were hurt simultaneously. So we tried to re-build or bond. But apparently, we failed.
We tried to extensively tell each other about the lives we were living by now (summer 2022) and for me it was great to slowly getting a part of her life and having her in mine again. After one message in said summer, I didn't receive an answer. I didn't worry about it too much because, by now, she became a mother. Twice to be precise. Ans she got married. She had a busy life and so I was patient. In autumn, I texted her again and suggested to visit her in October because I was going to have two weeks off. One checkmark. My message did not get delivered.
Several months later, on her birthday in April this year, I texted her my congratulations for her birthday. I texted her on Instagram because my last message on WhatsApp was not delivered. She saw the message, but never answered. She unfollowed me and deleted me as follower on her profile. She didn't text me for my birthday some days later. And then, she deactivated her profile. That's it. She ghosted me and left me in pieces.
I would possibly be able to contact her via usual text messages or maybe via Tumblr. But obviously, she doesn't want to get contacted by me. But the urge to tell her, how bad she hurts me with this is almost unbearable. Mainly, I am writing this right now to clear my mind a bit. I was pushing away my feelings about this the last weeks. I just didn't want to deal with it right now. But continuing to push it away will only cause more problems for me and my mental health. I'm still thinking about telling her how hurt I am, and angry, and disappointed. Maybe she'll even see this post. But this would mean that she would need to actively check on my profile since she unfollowed me on Tumblr as well.
I wished I could just hate her. To hate seems to be so much easier than to be hurt, than to miss and to regret how things went. But I don't and that makes me even more angry, but with myself. I hate that I'm tearing up again and again while writing this, I hate to have all those mixed feelings inside me.
.
I'm trying to find strategies for me to deal with this. Currently, I am trying to figure out and focus on the things that were negative for me in our friendship, e.g. how she talked shit about my first boyfriend more than a decade ago, how she always relied on me keeping in touch, that she always wanted to be "entertained" be me when we met because she got bored very easily. I'm trying to find reasons why it may be good that it's over so that I can move on. But... is this mean? Am I the bad person now? Was it all my fault? Could I have done anything different/better? I don't know.
I'm still grateful for all the goods things in this friendship, for everything she did for me, but at the moment, remembering this just hurts. I know I need to let all those feelings in and learn to deal with them. But I'm not sure if I'm ready to let go.
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Lots to report on. Marilyn had another successful gig! I took some pictures of her in her Captain Sigma outfit. Love Day happened.
I had edited the holiday last time it came around because the kids were all infants and no one had time to participate in Love Day and I forgot to put all the the regular things back so only giving flowers was on the to-do list.
Marilyn gave Aadhya a rose and then pretty sure Aadhya gave it back to her. But it gave them a relationship bump... and Aadhya expressed her love. They also had love day woohoo.
Julius brought Sawyer home from school and then I arranged for him to stay over. I set the foldable bed as being for Sawyer and I was like now how do I get him to go to bed since he’s not selectable... and I was able to click him under parenting as Marilyn and she was able to put him to bed which was cute
Naomi is absolutely killing it at work! She’s basically getting a promotion every time she goes to work. She got a piano and she’s been working on her piano skill.
She wrote a couple jingles and made $20
Marilyn did a “besties” friendly introduction with Sawyer and since he’s a rascal, Marilyn now likes rascals! I think it also bodes well that Sawyer and Tessa could have good compatibility because she was silly as a toddler and I think she has a comparable trait now too.
Tessa is doubting herself despite being like the best of the best at school. Relatable.
June is a little behind, probably because of getting reset after losing a tooth broke her sim...
It’s hard to be Julius sometimes
This lady who was always trying to be best friends with everyone after she was hired to nanny the toddlers is still up to her tricks from beyond the grave! Give it up Aicha!
Ah yes, Tessa is silly and likes silly behavior!
I made a spa to take Naomi too because of her burnout but then I didn’t want to go there and risk not being able to go to Marilyn’s gig with her and it seems to have gone away on its own
I made a pride holiday, we’ll see how these options work! I downloaded the Scripted pride decorations from TSR and I tested it and it works great.
Damn Marilyn. Teach me your ways!
Also oops, Marilyn and Etsuko are FWBs. To be fair... I did say I would probably get Etsuko and Dragon FWBs because their sexualities don’t match. Dragon probably wouldn’t be stoked that his wife’s FWB is his own mother but no one needs to tell him...?
#marilyn#naomi#tessa#june#julius#sawyer#aadhya#etsuko#sims 4#sims 4 screenshots#legacy challenge#legacy gameplay#sims 4 legacy gameplay#sims 4 legacy challenge#legacy#sims 4 gameplay
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tidbits from the webinar with Leigh Bardugo :
- With her writing, she wants to show there isn’t one kind of strong female character, that there are lots of different ways to be badass, among men as well. You don’t have to be super tough or a brooding dickhead. She wants to show fantasy doesn’t have to belong to one type of hero (white able bodied straight guy). She mentioned jk*r and seeing the heartbreak among her readers and thought she never wanted to be a part of causing that. Ppl talk about diversity as an artificial construct but it’s just...how the world is, and it’s how you tell a better story. When they announced they were casting a half-Asian Alina ppl were like ‘why don’t you want her to look Russian’ and she was like ??? “have you ever looked at Russia on a map ?”. And borders are porous, there isn’t a firm line/wall in reality, and in the world of the series, in the border town near Shu Han Alina comes from, people are doing business with each other, falling in love across the border...it’s just what naturally happens.
- The Crows in this first season of Shadow and Bone are not the same as when we meet them in Six of Crows, they’re not quite as badass yet. We are getting some of the backstory that is in the books but not all of it, they wanted to keep some for next season (hopefully)
- You cannot write about thugs and thieves without being aware of the social/economic/political dynamics that created them
- When writing a book, she often starts in one place and ends in another, with Six of Crows she started wanting to do a fun blockbuster-y fantasy heist romp and then Kaz Brekker was ‘riding his brother’s corpse to freedom’ lmao
- Advice for writers : research can be dangerous, it’s easy to get lost and stay away from the draft. for shadow and bone she gave herself two months to really get lost in research, look into folklore, old cookbooks, to really get into the vivid details.
- Writing short stories is a really good way to better your writing
- To get somewhere you have to be bad at things. The bad days when you’re in a process are a good sign, because you are trying to do something bigger than you’ve ever done before. She had to learn to sit with the discomfort of not being good when she started writing.
- Writing process : beat sheet with main elements > zero draft, in which there is still discovery left about the characters. Everybody’s process is different, the key is to finding yr own. The process of writing a novel is so long, you have to be in love and stay in love with that idea, remind yourself what made you excited about it in the first place, and wait for the moment where you fall back in love with it. If you get haunted by another idea that won’t go away you can wonder what appeals to you about it and you can put it in your current project.
- The greatest gift you can give yourself is to finish a draft. When you’re stuck, go for a walk and talk to yourself (you can put in earphones to not look crazy lmao). Or shift POV. As a writer a critical voice is often what blocks you. You need to remind yourself that the first draft is going to be bad and you have to let it be, you’re telling the story to yourself, it’s fine to have placeholders and go back.
- When you’re a young writer the important thing is that you keep being in love with writing, there is no expiration date on your talent. When you’re in prep school mode, you’re told your value is in being young and brilliant, at some point you’re not the youngest one in the room anymore, you’re no longer the wunderkind, but that’s not where your value is. You still have a story to tell.
- She says she is a mix of Kaz (because she uses a cane, she’s a planner and she keeps a grudge for a long time) and Nina, or at least Nina is who she would like to be, the best part of her.
- She likes writing about women who get their revenge.
- Ketterdam treats people as commodities and expendable, it’s the protestant work ethic taken to extremes, and so ppl like Kaz and Inej are going to have the experiences they had. She didn’t want to do misery tourism, it was very important to approach these with caution and do a lot of research. She found it important to donate to organizations linked to things she has written about, so like against trafficking when she was writing Inej’s backstory. Writing those backstories were some of the most harrowing stuff she ever wrote as a writer. The scene with Kaz and Inej and the bandages was probably the hardest scene she’s ever written, she wanted to be respectful of what those two characters had been through, she’s written a lot of versions of that scene. It’s fun to talk about ships but she doesn’t want trauma to be ‘healed by love’, it wouldn’t feel respectful, the journey towards healing is a slow one, you backslide, etc.
- She struggled a lot writing Crooked Kingdom, she was kind of in a burnout, and wondered afterwards if it even was good. Importance of the drive to get better so you don’t stay static.
- She loooves a slow burn and had to put the brakes on the show writers several times lol when it came to kissing and such.
- Her fave episode of the show is episode 7
- She likes giving the names of her friends to characters bc they supported her so much during the writing process
- The first books are generally the easiest to write because you can throw your ideas at the wall and see what sticks, you can kind of do what you want, and after that in following books you have a lot more threads to pick up.
- Pet peeve : people talking about how this character didn’t “deserve” this : in her experience the people who deserve to go don’t and often the loving kind ones are those who lose, she’s experienced a lot of loss in her life, and she’s not going to write a book about war and danger without being honest about how these things go, it would feel disingenuous. She’s not going to stop killing people (lol).
- One fan talked about how she felt really helped by Nina being a curvy girl who is presented as charming and confident and very lovable. Leigh talks about how she’s been a lot of different sizes, she heard there was a famous author saying disparaging things about her weight and disability behind her back, she was like that’s not even original, and actually fuck being ashamed of that, she wants the culture to change and wants to participate in that. She wants it to be known that she is a very successful, adored fat woman with a partner who helps her up stairs, she also wants fans to know that they’re so much more than their appearance. (that moment was so badass, it reminded me of Kaz giving advice to Wylan about his disability)
- Our culture is garbage and you’re at war everyday with the people who want to make you feel bad about yourself so you buy things. Find people who make you feel strong and amazing, who don’t just tolerate you but who think you’re the best.
Anyway this was a really cool moment honestly, it made me even more of a fan.
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Hey! How have ypu been? 2,3,6,7,9,15 Who else but Monty (Kata, Brulee, Peros too :D) yeah it's a big order!
Phew, that one sure took a while! But everything for you, friend 💕💕 We're alright, hope you've been well too! ✨
Some practicalities first: We decided to organize this answer by characters, for maximum space to go into detail on each headcanon! Some headcanons pertain to our modern AU rather than to the One Piece canon as we found these headcanons worked better for a particular prompt: we'll indicate those at the start of each bullet point!
Send us a number and a character and we'll post headcanons!
2. Job headcanon
Modern AU: Mont D'Or is a librarian by passion and a prosecutor by profession. He opened up and manages his own library in the early mornings and late evenings, but in-between that, he works on court cases. He might be overworked, and is definitely a workaholic but he hardly ever slacks off on either of his careers; and he's notorious for being professional, convincing, and very attached to every case. Highly principled unless Mama orders him to do something for her, he refuses to prosecute those he doesn't believe should be prosecuted, and for those he wants to face justice - he will get so heated that he might get reprimanded by judges for yelling or by cops and detectives for joining their investigations uninvited. His sister, Galette, is his secretary, and she follows him around everywhere, helping out however much she can!
3. Drinking headcanon
Mont D'Or... might have a bit of an alcohol problem. It's not that he gets drunk often... but he does drink regularly. Essentially, every time his siblings piss him off, he takes a sip, so you can imagine how many sips accumulate throughout the day. His prefer drink is red dry wine and he mostly drinks alone, without witnesses, not to give a bad example! To get really drunk, he would have to drink a lot; but if he does get drunk, he mostly gets more explosive than usual or somewhat lagged out, processing all information input slower than normally.
6. Musical headcanon
In Mont D'Or's eyes, the main function music has is to help him either focus or unwind. For both of these roles, he enjoys classical music most - think especially something akin to Wagner. He despises loud music and prefers instrumental pieces, although he is also an opera enthusiast. His guilty pleasure, discovered quite recently, could also be lo-fi kind of music! It calms him down a little, even though he doesn't like to be caught listening to it, as his expressed music-related opinions are overall quite snobbish.
7. Food/Cooking headcanon
Mont D'Or would gladly cook if he had the time for it; but being as busy as he is, he is forced to depend on others and on ordering food throughout each day. His tastes encompass rather fancy cuisine: he adores charcuterie boards and seafood, refuses to eat fast food, adds cheese to pretty much everything that is remotely acceptable like an apple pie and calls it an acquired taste. Besides that, he always likes to have a cookie with his black coffee; considering how much coffee he drinks every day, that is a lot of cookies consumed!
9. Childhood headcanon
As a child, Mont D'Or was known as just a nerd. He was way more shy and less aggressive than he is now; it was only over time, having been ridiculed by some siblings for his unconventional (in this family) interests, that he toughened up and learned to stand up for himself. Ever since he learned to read, Mont D'Or was a frequent visitor to all libraries of Totto Land. At the time, there weren't that many, nor did they have impressive book collections, so soon enough, Mont D'Or started reading books way above his age target group, and by the time he came of age, he was disappointed to find out that he has already read every book currently available within Big Mom's territory. At first, little Mont D'Or wasn't quite sure what he can offer to his family of murderous pirates: he wasn't strong nor all that ruthless, and his strengths could be found rather in the areas that wouldn't be that useful for sailing or plundering. He also felt lonely before Galette came along, and he could most often be found alone, or around Compote, who had a soft spot for her smart little brother. Eventually, Mont D'Or figured out that strategy and organization were the areas where his family could need him, though; from there, he moved on to transform from a quiet nerd into a pillar of Big Mom Pirates’ planning.
15. School headcanon
Besides setting up many more libraries in Totto Land than it once had, Mont D'Or took it onto himself to kickstart a proper education system in his mother's territory. In the past, none of the Charlotte siblings went through formalized education, rather having to learn from experience or directly from Big Mom, other pirates, and from each other. Now, Mont D'Or makes sure that teachers are recruited to Totto, and at least basic schools (available universally) are established!
Modern AU: It is probably not surprising that at school, Mont D'Or would be a straight-A's student. Stellar at every test, he would however not be all that liked by the teachers due to his behavior problems. His temper and lack of respect for authority if the authority is wrong would both make him a troublesome student to get in conflict with. He'd absolutely correct the teachers on their mistakes, and if they dared refuse to acknowledge their faults... he would yell. 😔
Katakuri, Brulee, and Perospero under the cut!
2. Job headcanon
Modern AU: As we discussed in a previous post, Katakuri would definitely be every parent's dream child, aka a doctor and a lawyer in one! A neurologist and an advocate, Katakuri would be very close to burnout, and wouldn't really actively work in the law field anymore, not wanting to infringe on Mont D'Or's turf. He would definitely work too much, but telling him to rest would hardly be a solution: with his perfectionism, he would not be able to sleep unless his task was carried out well. He wouldn't like his job all that much, really, but he'd still keep it to continue supporting his younger or less talented siblings with his money; and not to disappoint his mother, of course.
3. Drinking headcanon
Katakuri refuses to drink alcohol, finding every possible excuse to not be pressured into it. First of all, he just doesn't want to show his mouth, lay down, or do something even more embarassing for anyone to see if he gets drunk. More importantly, though, he is scared of falling into an addiction as a coping method, so he prefers to just avoid the temptation altogether. If possible, he'd rather not be around drunk people, too!
6. Musical headcanon
Katakuri enjoys all kinds of music and has quite a diverse tastes, with some of his favorites coming from indie rock, metal, cute pixel music, grunge, and more. He is quite embarrassed to share the music he listens to, so when possible, he listens to it on headphones. When he's fully convinced that he's alone, he might sing a little or bob his head to the music he enjoys; if listening to songs around people, though, he'll keep a fully straight, unmoved face.
7. Food/Cooking headcanon
As the supreme donut lover, Katakuri actually has a secret bucket list of all flavors of donuts he wants to try! He cares about the textures of food a lot, and generally prefers soft and chewy things. To set him apart from Luffy, Katakuri also doesn't really like meat, with few exceptions! Sometimes, Katakuri joins Perospero in his morning tea drinking sessions, and it was from his older brother that he learned to like his tea very sweet. As for cooking, he tried it as a child, but found to have little patience for it back then; now, he'd probably do way better if he tried to cook, but just like Mont D'Or, he just doesn't have the time!
9. Childhood headcanon
Katakuri is probably the Charlotte that changed the most since his early childhood. Before the Brulee incident, he was actually a rather lazy, even if talented, kid. To get him to train, an incentive of donuts was always necessary; and having been highly influenced by Daifuku and Oven, he also used to be a bit of a troublemaker. If anyone made fun of him or annoyed him, they would always see Katakuri throwing hands - he was far more eruptive than now and didn't really care what others thought. Brulee getting hurt because of him, though, had a life-changing effect on him; and it effectively molded him into the hardworking, serious, troubled person that he is now.
15. School headcanon
Modern AU: Despite starting off as a troublemaker who slept through the boring classes, these days Katakuri is a model student, and many teachers marvel at his transformation. He is just as good in sciences as in sports, and often represents his school in various competitions, regularly winning too! Although he gets A's in everything, his favorite school subjects remain the humanities. After school, he revises the lesson material for exactly an hour every day, but doesn't need to study much before tests, having a great memory and a kind of sixth sense for filtering out important information. Despite not wanting to be in the spotlight, he's very popular with fellow students and a lot of classmates have secret crushes on him, girls or guys!
2. Job headcanon
Modern AU: As we headcanon, one of Brulee's main hobbies is tending to her herbal garden, and she knows a lot about the healing properties of plants! Naturally, then, she would gladly choose pharmacy as her career path: the calm atmosphere combined with helping others would fit her vibe perfectly. Besides that, she would also work voluntarily babysitting the children of her siblings; the kids would always be kind of scared of her at first, but soon enough they would outright cry whenever she would have to leave even just for a moment.
3. Drinking headcanon
Brulee drinks alcohol rarely and in small amounts; mostly as an addition to a good dinner. She is an extreme lightweight, so anything more than one glass of her favorite white wine results in her becoming way more clumsy than usual and inevitably getting a next-morning headache. To avoid this, she makes sure to never drink more than she knows she can handle!
6. Musical headcanon
Another classical music lover, Brulee would enjoy something akin to Schubert's songs most! Even though she isn't the best at it, with her voice being just a bit too nasal and too scratchy, Brulee likes to sing (especially ballads and lullabies!) and often hums while working. Having a bit more free time than most of her siblings, Brulee also managed to learn some instruments, albeit she only ever stuck to the basics and simple pieces. The piano is the instrument she plays rather well, so she can teach her younger siblings how to play a few easy songs if they so please; very recently, she also picked up the violin, and she enjoys practicing it although, so far, the sounds she can make hardly resemble what she would like to hear.
7. Food/Cooking headcanon
Brulee cooks a lot and enjoys doing that a bunch! She's quite experimental and healthy with her recipes, and prefers salty foods as well as meat or soups. As a result, she is one of the few bastions that keep some of her siblings from succumbing to dessert-only diets. Once in a while, she bakes bread too; since she always cooks way more food than she needs, she often ends up sharing or donating it! You can almost always smell something cooking up in her hut; even if Totto Land has so many high-level chefs, Brulee still likes to make her own, homemade food herself.
9. Childhood headcanon
As a child, Brulee was much more anxious than she is now. She was always a bit awkward and clumsy, and kind of bullied for her witchy appearance by the other children in ports and in Totto Land. Over time, she learned to embrace herself, though; in the stories her older siblings told her, she always identified with the witches, and she later proceeded to amplify this image of herself as much as possible, instead of resenting it!
15. School headcanon
Modern AU: Brulee would be a mediocre student, who'd be kind of picked on, at least until Katakuri got all set on defending her! Her favorite school subject would be history, and she'd also enjoy some parts of biology - though she'd much rather learn about plants and animals than the human insides. Always a sweetheart, Brulee would enjoy secretly making her classmates happy with little anonymous gifts; each birthday or Valentine's Day, anyone could count on at least one card from a secret friend, who everyone would suspect to be her, as she isn't all that great at hiding.
2. Job headcanon
Modern AU: Perospero would be an interior designer, but really, one of a kind. Even if just designing a chair, he'd see his work as art and himself as an artist, and he'd act accordingly. Cracker Any architect unlucky enough to have to work with him would end up in despair as he'd blatanly ignore the technical limits and capacities of a building for the aesthetic. Likewise, his clients would have to be prepared for many unexpected decisions and costs: Perospero would not take orders from them but always stick to what he thinks looks good, no matter how intricate or expensive. Effectively, the only clients brave enough to employ him more than once would be the rich and extravagant ones: those would appreciate his work immensely, while anyone remotely more practical would have to complain.
3. Drinking headcanon
Perospero parties and gets drunk quite often, although he exclusively drinks overly sweet cocktails and never drinks outside of a social context! When he has too much to drink, he gets either hyper, horny, or annoying - or all three at once - depending on his mood. Whichever it is, he also loses all understanding of personal space, gets a lot more touchy, and much more likely to lick everyone and everything. At the end of the night, he has the tendency to pretend that he's much more drunk than he actually is, too, hoping that someone will carry him home like the princess he wants to be; though most of the time, it just ends up with Daifuku pulling him back by the leg.
6. Musical headcanon
Perospero loves to sing, especially publically, and he's surprisingly good at it! damn I really got a stroke first time I heard him sing, like, my man, how can you sing so well with an entire tongue out wtf Perospero explain. His preferred repertoire of music to sing includes all sorts of songs from musicals; as for music to listen to, he ranges between musicals and hyperpop, or any music sweet and bubbly on the outside but disturbing and horror-like as it develops!
7. Food/cooking headcanon
Perospero does not cook on principle, insisting that they have the chefs for it. His diet as a whole is downright atrocious; he adds sugar to quite literally everything, acts dramatically, as if he was poisoned if forced to eat anything not sweet enough, and mostly lives off candy. His 'tea' can hardly be called that anymore, considering that it contains more syrups and sugar than tea itself. Basically, Compote gets chills whenever she sees him eat and continuously marvels at how the fuck he is still alive.
9. Childhood headcanon
Having to take care of his siblings early on, Perospero didn't get much of a careless childhood. Once Linlin was unable to keep all children with her on the Rocks Pirates ship, by the time he was 8, he was put in charge of all the younger siblings she left in a port (while Compote was looking over the ones that stayed with Linlin on the ship). Perospero looks back at his childhood fondly, though; he liked ordering his brothers and sisters around, liked being in charge, and especially loved being admired and looked up to as the eldest sibling role model. Once Katakuri became a new favorite of the family, Perospero was so jealous and grumpy for a while that he even went through a rebellious phase of trying to run away; he came back less than a day later though, having cried his eyes out once missing his family and homesickness kicked in, never to try to leave ever again.
15. School headcanon
Modern AU: At school, Perospero would definitely focus on socializing way more than on learning. Among the teachers, he would be known as a smart but lazy kind of student, doing the bare minimum for most classes, though excelling in art and music. He would have mostly girl friends, essentially running his own mean girls group; together with them, he'd always come up with excuses to not exercise during P.E. so that his looks don't get ruined and so that he can just spend the time gossiping about the guys instead. If someone got on his bad side, Perospero would also not be above bullying them, although he wouldn't do that in a conventional way - rather, he'd just make his victims severely uncomfortable, getting way to close, switching between flirty and dangerous tones, and making them feel trapped before just backing off and laughing. An absolute menace to society, even in a modern AU 😔
If you managed to get through all of this, we salute you, soldier 🎖️Hope you enjoyed, though! ✨ It was sure fun to come up with. Thanks for the ask! 💕
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Rory dropping out of Yale; my thoughts
So I grew up in an Asian household (think Lane's family but with a mother-daughter relationship similar to Lorelai and Rory) where it was instilled in me from a very young age that a) handouts are for the weak and we should work for every single opportunity available b) do not waste the opportunities you get even a little bit. My parents took these fundamentals to the extreme sometimes, leading to Paris levels of insanity (more so because they're both academics), whereas I quickly realised that taking the easy path isn't necessarily a BAD thing. That being said, I was still very very shocked when Rory dropped out of Yale. I watched Gilmore Girls with my mom and the difference in thought really shined through when she just couldn't accept Jess not graduating (whereas I understood perfectly) but then there were also similarities in the way that we were both horrified when Rory accepted the internship from Mitchum. In fact, my mom very nicely told me that if I ever drop out of college like that she will hound me day and night until I go back.
So why is this important exactly? This school of thought that me and my family have, that rejects any sense of privilege (mostly because we don't have any) is very similar to Lorelai's (though she could pick and choose when she wanted to renounce her privilege) and this is by extension what Stars Hollow and Lane and Jess represented to Rory. On the other hand there's the world that we know nothing about; Emily, Richard, Logan, the DAR, these were the things that Rory discovered when she dropped out of Yale and essentially rejected her mother’s path for her. I hated this storyline, not because it was bad, but because it was so exceedingly well written that it made me very uncomfortable. Here is this girl, very similar to me as in she's a gifted child who is just tired of schooling and needs a break. But unlike me, she has the privilege to completely give up on the dreams she was working towards just because it was hard.
Unlike Lorelai, Rory liked her grandparents' world, even in the earlier seasons (the debutante ball for example). She was just never given the chance to fully embrace it because at that point she was still under her mother's control. So it's no surprise that when the dreams and life she had carved out for herself with the help of her mother failed (Mitchum telling her she didn't have "it" to be a journalist) she ran in the opposite direction from that life. The situation is a layered and complex one, and I truly believe if Richard and Emily had let Lorelai handle it then Rory would've been back at Yale sooner, if not immediately. Maybe she would've worked a little or looked at other courses but if she was with her mother instead then she wouldn’t have lost her sense of self so completely. But... Rory needed to lose her sense of self at that point, mostly because it was so tied with Lorelai and her dependence on her, so to become her own person she had to make some really bad decisions. She also needed to be fully immersed in the privileged lifestyle to realise that she didn't want that either.
Unfortunately this drastic and sudden shift in support systems left Rory reeling and as a consequence left her even more confused and floating than she had been right after she got “feedback” from Mitchum and stole the yacht. Which is why we see her struggling with her daily routine, she tries to accept what the luxurious lifestyle entails (partying with Logan for example) but simultaneously looks for echoes of a previous life (throwing herself into organisation and planning for the DAR).
I don't know if this is a popular opinion or not, but according to me Rory didn't go back to Yale because of Jess. By the time he came into the picture she was already 90% there, she was tiring of the easy, aimless path and wanted the challenge of having a dream again. She just needed one last push. I do think it was important that it was Jess who was the one who gave that push, for a couple of reasons; a) full fucking circle, she helped him at his rock bottom and he made something of himself thus making her come to the uncomfortable realisation that the roles have changed b) no one else was around to do it, Lorelai had given up on her, Logan was useless and Paris wasn't intuitive enough to know that she needed it. And honestly, if Richard or even Logan tried, they wouldn't have been successful because to Rory they very clearly represented the easy path and she wouldn’t have listened to them and lastly, c) Jess and Lorelai had the exact same character arcs, which is why he's the only one other than her mother who would've gotten through to Rory. Jess says and represents the same things Lorelai does, but because of timing (the ONE time their timing was good) and their relationship being different from Rory and Lorelai, what he said is exactly what she needed to hear at that moment.
Rory's burnout of epic proportions was a long time coming, she had a difficult time in Chilton, an even harder time in Yale and it didn't help that her personal life was almost always in shambles. The reason this burnout derailed her as much as it did was because of the play of privilege. If Rory didn't have her grandparents to fall back on, she would've done what the rest of us did; suck it up or find a different career path. But she did have them, and while the route her character arc takes is unrelatable to me, it stays true to the storyline and the situation that Rory is in.
#gilmore girls#rory gilmore#lorelai gilmore#emily gilmore#richard gilmore#gilmore girls meta#jess mariano#character meta#notice how i don't mention paris much#it's because she doesn’t represent either world#but accepts that rory needs time to find herself
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a return to roots | 4
pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader
summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break.
genre: socmed/smau, slice of life
warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence
masterpost
If you were to be completely honest, you'd wanted to wear a dress you’d been allowed to keep after a photoshoot. However, it wasn't a good look for someone of your status to re-wear outfits, especially statement pieces. You couldn't remember who had designed it, but it had been mostly tulle and made you feel like a princess... all things that could not be used to describe what you were wearing now. For your dinner plans, you chose to wear a simple yet smart-looking bodycon dress, one that you were regretting as you stepped out of the car. You pulled at the hem from over the long coat you wore, conscious of the fact that there could potentially be paparazzi waiting to snap a photo of you from an unfortunate angle if you weren't paying close attention. Unlike American paparazzi, reporters here didn't flock at the entrances of exclusive clubs or restaurants, but it never hurt to be cautious.
"I won't need a ride home," you told Ichiro, who nodded stiffly and then shut the door of the car after you got out, “I can get a ride home."
You adjusted the sunglasses on the bridge of your nose, aware that you looked out of place in the nightlife, and then walked to the doors of the hotel. A concierge opened the door to greet you and Ichiro, who trailed behind, scanning the area. "Welcome, Miss. Your party called ahead and made us aware of the arrangements to be made. You can follow me to the elevator, where I will escort you to your destination."
"Thank you," you said coolly, then took after them. While in the elevator, the concierge spoke nervously, emphasizing how much of an honor it was for someone like you to visit their establishment. You smiled politely, silently willing the elevator to reach the right floor faster.
A restaurant specializing in molecular gastronomy, Kuroo had explained to you on the phone the night before. He'd sounded probably the most excited you'd ever heard him. You had looked it up yourself after the call had ended. It was on the 29th floor of a luxurious hotel, one that you had never been to yourself. Only eight people max were allowed to dine in, and the chef made all of the food in front of you, four courses.
You were dragged out of your thoughts when the elevator finally dinged and the concierge guided you to the glass doors of the restaurant, where Ichiro recognized the occupants and left you alone to be greeted by Kuroo, Lev, his sister Alisa, and, surprisingly, Kenma. You took off your sunglasses and slipped them into the pocket of your coat before that too was taken by a waitress, who calmly swept them away from you and into a closet, presumably.
"Hi, guys!" you gave a bright smile and then slipped into the empty seat in between Kenma and Alisa.
"We thought you might want to sit next to Alisa," Kenma explained quietly, tugging on the collar of his dress shirt.
You smiled again, settling into the chair. "Thanks," you nodded your head. "You look nice, too, Kenma! You're all dressed up!"
Kuroo leaned back to make eye contact with you, laughing. "He almost cancelled on dinner plans with us when he heard that he couldn't wear his sweatpants. He lives in sweatpants exclusively."
Kenma sighed, muttering under his breath, "Maybe I wouldn't if you didn't make a big deal about whenever I'm not." Only you heard his comment, since he was on the edge of the table, but you didn't have any time to reply because the head chef came out of the kitchen, accompanied by a couple of workers behind him, holding the ingredients.
One by one, each round of dishes came and went. Earlier, you'd been worried about wearing a bodycon dress because of the impending food baby you were sure to conceive, but with only dessert left, your stomach felt hardly filled with the sizes of the previous dishes. The process of making each one was mesmerizing to watch, and the flavor profile of each small bite was beyond anything you could have initially imagined when the plates were gently placed in front of you-
You watched the chef spoon generous amounts of black caviar onto the dish. Not dessert, you corrected yourself. Why did you assume to get a deconstructed piece of fried dough when they had called the dish "Donut"? You eyed the tweezers which carefully placed tiny, delicate flowers on top of the spread. A single waiter poured out flutes of champagne and then distributed them to you and your friends, the only noise in the room the fizzing of bubbles in your drink. In fact, the entire affair had been silent aside from the head chef, who explained each meal to your group.
Once the waiter and chef cleared the room, Lev was finally the brave soul to break the silence, who cleared his throat and then, turning to you, asked, "So Y/N, you're moving back home, huh? Is there anything to even do there?”
You knew Lev didn’t mean to say anything offensive, but it still stung a little. He was just blunt to a fault sometimes, you reminded yourself, instead giggling and sending some witty remark back at him which made everyone burst into laughter. You shivered a little, finished the last of your remaining champagne in one undignified gulp, then stared out at Tokyo's skyline, shining and glittering like stars. It was cold in the room, you decided. Ridiculously air-conditioned to the point where you would be glad when you got your coat back and could leave.
The rest of the get-together flew by, only spending a little longer in the restaurant before exiting into the lobby. Kuroo had agreed to drive you back to your apartment, since he'd taken his own car and hadn't drank a lot. Lev gave you a bear hug and told you he would miss you, and that he would try to visit if his modeling schedule worked out in favor of it, but he wasn't sure. Alisa also hugged you tightly, telling you to take care of yourself in the countryside, to which she wrinkled her nose at playfully. When it came to Kenma you refrained from a hug, knowing that he didn't like physical contact. He gave a small smile, appreciative. "I might visit sometime; we can play Animal Crossing."
Then, just like that, the three of them left, Lev and Alisa taking the same car and Kenma having a driver. Kuroo turned to you and raised an eyebrow. "Well? Ready to go?"
You nodded, following him to the front where a valet had already pulled Kuroo's car to the curb, waiting for the two of you. Once inside, you pressed your forehead to the cool window, your breath fogging up the glass. Kuroo made no comment, the only sound to be heard the traffic in the streets.
For what seemed like a few minutes later, you felt yourself being gently shaken awake. "Y/N?" Slowly, you roused, rubbing at your eyes sleepily. You froze, sitting up. Shit, you'd had mascara on.
"Y/N?"
You turned to see Kuroo looking slightly concerned, but you just waved your hand at him. "I'm awake now. Thanks for the ride."
He stared at you, opened his mouth, then shut it promptly, stopping you from opening the car door. You rarely saw him speechless or without something to say. "What's wrong?" You frowned, trying to think of what could be worrying him or making him act like this.
Kuroo shook his head then leaned back in his seat. He scratched the back of his head and looked down. "I'm not sure how to say it, so I'm just going to say it." Immediately you felt dread in the pit of your stomach. Oh, god. Did he have, like, a middle-school crush on her? Was he tongue-tied? You did not want to lose one of your closest guy friends; plus, if you weren't friends with him anymore then you couldn't really be friends with Kenma-
"I'm worried about you, Y/N. Just... take care of yourself in Hyōgo, alright? You're there for a reason; to take a break." He ran a hand through his hair again, nervously. "You know what I'm saying? So just take care of yourself. Don't eat junk food all the time, it's not good for you. Also don't stay indoors all the time, it's good to get outside. You need to synthesize vitamin D," Kuroo rambled, "it's good for your skin, too-"
Finally you broke your silence, smiling and laughing at him. "Aw, Kuroo, you nerrrd," you socked him on the arm, evoking an 'ow' from him. "You're so sweet, what the hell? And don't worry, I'll be fine! I'm great at taking care of myself!" You gave him a thumbs up. When he looked at you dubiously, you added on, "Kaa-san and Tou-san don't live too far from where we used to live, so I can go to them if I need to, too." After a pause, more giggles bubbled out. "I thought- I was really scared that you liked me," you cackled, going into hysterics when he made a face. "I know, I know- I just got worried because I didn't know what you were going to say."
Kuroo rolled his eyes. "Uh, no, I don't like you. Not even platonically, after this," he grumbled, already getting into his theatrics. "I can't believe you're harassing me for caring. You're awful, Y/N!"
You opened your car door, still laughing. "Ok, ok, I'm awful, I'll admit it." You shut the door, and Kuroo rolled down the window.
"Whatever. Just make sure Osamu is driving safely. And text us when you get there. And," he levelled his gaze with yours, "do whatever you feel is best about Kita. Hopefully you take this break to sort through your feelings." Without giving you any time to retort something, Kuroo peeled off in his car, leaving you alone.
Quickly, you made your way into your apartment and finally took off your heels, leaving them near the entrance and sighing when you could walk flat-footed on the cool floor. Next you took off your coat and threw it on the couch, and instead of getting ready to sleep, jumped into your bed and face-planted into the pillows.
You fell asleep in less than five minutes.
You sent your Hyōgo address to Kenma and then flopped on your bed, accidentally banging your head on the headboard. “Fuck,” you hissed, clutching the back of your head. You sat there for a few moments, lamenting why you had to jump onto the bed and how the consequences of your action hurt so bad.
Then your stomach rumbled, begging to be filled, and you forgot everything you had been thinking about, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, peering in at the contents- or rather lack thereof. At least you didn’t have to worry about clearing your fridge by tonight, right?
Your stomach growled again as you shut the door, instead looking to the freezer. What did you have in there…? It slid open and you were glad to see that it wasn’t as empty as your fridge, rummaging through the frozen meals you had for a late-breakfast-early-lunch.
You pulled out a twelve pack of frozen gyoza and set it aside on the counter, pushing all of the other stuff back into the freezer. When you finally slid it shut again, you sighed in relief, and turned back to the food in question. You read the instructions on the back even though you were pretty sure it was easy to heat them up, and then turned the stove on. Pulling out a pot from your cabinet, you filled it with water and then set it on the stove, topping it with a lid to make the process faster.
Then you got to cleaning. Your apartment wasn’t all that messy since you didn’t spend a lot of time in it before going on hiatus, just a few stacks of paper filled with lyrics: some you’d tried working out, others hadn’t fit your two previous albums, but most you just didn’t like.
You checked on the pot of water to make sure it wasn’t boiling, and after seeing it wasn’t, you continued cleaning, moving into the kitchen once more. You scrubbed the plates and bowls you’d left in the sink for a couple days. Most of the stuff in the sink was silverware from eating takeout or having frozen meals, though.
When you heard and saw that the water was boiling, you added the gyoza and lowered the heat before going back to drying the dishes. By the time you were done with the task, your dumplings were ready, and so you turned off the stove and took the pot off. With a pair of chopsticks, you scooped up the gyoza and placed them onto a plate. You’d eat six and then leave the other half for dinner, you decided, putting them in a bento box for storage and then the fridge.
“Ah…” You sat down on the couch with your food and then turned on the TV, watching mindlessly and eating your gyoza one by one. After a couple of hours, you got up, washed and dried the dishes you’d just used, and then finally went to your room to pack.
Should you take all of your clothes with you? It’s not like you knew how long you were planning to stay in Hyōgo, so should you just pack everything, then? You opened up your closet all the way, clearing out the sections of your regular clothing and placing them on your bed. You turned back to your closet, now significantly emptier. All that was left were things you’d worn on tours or designer pieces you’d been allowed to keep. Most of them you could look at and remember the venues you’d worn them to; recall the quality of your performance and how big the crowd was. It would be pointless to take them with you, right? You couldn’t wear a custom Versace piece to the middle of nowhere.
You sighed and shut the closet door with a resounding thud, and then turned to face the monster pile of clothes you were going to try to fit into two large suitcases…
Ah shit, and you hadn’t even begun to think about shoes.
a/n: help the chapters keep getting longer even though i outline for this fic????? h o w
taglist (pm me to ask to be added): @papiibuprofen, @duhsies, @succulentmom
some ~fun facts~
- lev and alisa are models, as in canon
-the food was served in test tubes and other scientist apparatuses LMAO (kuroo got really excited because he’s a chem nerd)
- i based the restaurant off of an actual one in japan but changed some things about it... so for legal reasons™️ all similarities are a coincidence 🧍♂️
- i hope y/n doesn’t sound whiny but i find molecular gastronomy to be super esoteric,,, reminds me of that bar scene in parks and rec lmao
- kenma tucks his sweatpants into his socks like the wrestlers at my old high school do... this is unfortunately also canon...
- yaku couldn’t make it to the dinner event because he’s still in russia, playing volleyball there. he will be coming back to play for japan in the olympics!
- kuroo drives even though he drank a little... don’t do this
- kuroo is NOT interested in y/n romantically
- i made two kita shirts with my friends during a haikyuu watch party we had… my favorite one got a little messed up and i’m sad 😃 edit: i fucking hate it here they got put in the dryer without my consent and now they’re both ruined ❤️
#haikyuu#kita shinsuke#kita shinsuke x you#kita shinsuke x reader#kita#miya atsumu#atsumu miya#haikyuu!!#kita x reader#miya osamu#ojiro aran#suna rintaro#inarizaki#kuroo tetsuro#kenma kozume#lev haiba#alisa haiba#nekoma#haikyuu x reader#self insert#farmer kita#haikyuu timeskip
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HASO, “Perfect Timing.”
Alright everyone. I am beginning to realize that maybe expecting myself to write a story every week day with a job and trying to get into grad school and writing a second novel might be a bit..... excessive?
So I am going to try for three times a week. I hope you all stick around :)
And I hope you enjoy today’s story as well.
Adam stood with his hands behind his back, feet spread to shoulder width. He would never have noticed by himself, but the men and women around him stood a little straighter and stepped a little faster under his watchful eye. Once upon a time they might have only hastened their work if he directly asked them too, but just his mere presence these days could send his crew scurrying to do their work. He hadn’t really changed anything about the way he commanded his men. He was firm when he needed to be but allowed for brevity when it would suit the situation.
However, a few years and some tough lessons was slowly shaping him into the kind of man who could command thousands, sharp posture, calm confidence, and a keen eye.
But then again anyone who could appear professional while wearing high top heelies was a man to be reckoned with.
Sunny walked up next to him her pearlescent white armor glowing under the light as she leaned on the shade of her matching spear. Her head was held high like his. Where once she had been locked up, and defensive, she now stood with the calm confidence of someone who understood what control meant.
Together they had come a long way.
She tilted her head, “You really think he’s going to let you race this…. It’s a million dollar piece of military hardware, they don’t stand a chance.”
Adam didn’t move, hands still clasped behind his back as he stared up at the F-90 Darkfire he was preparing for the race, “I wouldn’t be so sure…. I’ll be lucky to come in last place.”
Sunny frowned confused, “I saw those shuttles, they were junk shows.”
He lifted his head as the F-90 was rolled across the deck.
“This is a race, it isn’t combat. She was built for dogfights which means she is going to be heavier than the others. Wing tip to wing tip she is also going to be a little longer than the other shuttles and jets making maneuvering around obstacles more difficult. Sure she likely has a more powerful engine, but that can be as much of a detriment as it is a leg up.” He gestured in the vague direction of the race course, “We are going to be racing through the planet’s smaller rocky ring. It has an unusual amount of larger, thick chunks which we are going to have to manuver around: the kind of conditions you might see in science fiction movies when they talk about an asteroid field. Asteroid fields are generally too far apart to cause any real issue, but here the rocks are dense, and my flying is going to have to be on pont, having a more powerful engine is going to make her more touchy, and my fitness on the controls is going to have to be absolute.”
Sunny tilted her head listening as he continued. She liked it when this side of him came out. There was something about the analytical, logical side of Adam she found….. Very appealing.
He walked forward to examine the jet himself, “Furthermore, I don’t know if you noticed, but there were a few jets there that weren’t exactly junk shows. A few of them were pretty top of the line, and most of them were built for racing. Lighter, sleeker, faster, and with more engine control than mine.
A lot of my maneuverability is lost out of the atmosphere. This isn’t about how well you can manipulate wind currents, this is going to be all about the very minute rotation of the rear and and wing engines. Their wings are smaller and closer in meaning they are going to rotate more easily than me.
She walked up with him and put a hand on his shoulder, “You forgot to fact in one thing.”
He frowned and looked up, “Oh, what did I miss.”
She smiled slightly, “The skill of the pilot, and I know for a fact that we have the best pilot this side of Andromeda. You can have the best plane in the world, but if you have a shit pilot, then a good pilot in a flying trash can has a chance of winning.”
He Smiled, “Thanks, I needed that.”
He stepped back, “Still it doesn't pay to be too cocky. I have a feeling these people have raced this before, they are going to know what they are dealing with, and I am going tinto this completely blind. This is a test to see if my instincts are better than their practice…. Who knows it could be a very close run thing.”
He moved forward to do an extra check on the outside of the ship despite having a whole team of people to do it for him. Adam had learned to delegate a lot of his responsibilities onto others to avoid burnout, but this was one thing he never left to other people. He came back after a thorough check of the ship and stopped next to her.
His head was tilted to one side as he looked at the machine sitting before him.
“It is missing something.”
Sunny turned her head to look at him, “What?”
He smiled, “Do we have anyone here who has experience with graffiti?”
***
Donavan Red met him when he entered the hanger, wearing his flight suit and holding his helmet under one arm. He had gone for some of his more simple equipment. Didn’t want to give the guy an excuse to blame his skill on technology.
Red looked him over.
“Nice suit, princess.”
Adam just smiled thinly looking around at the other pilots, “I see I might be under-dressed.”
To be far though, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would have described the dress code, if he had to put it on an invitation.
The most apt description seemed to have been.
Dress for Pissing contest.
The men and women wore their uniforms in the same way NASCAR drivers might, covered in logos and patterns. Some of them were clearly custom ordered with personal designs on the backs or the helmets, some sporting flames, others cartoon animals, one guy was just covered in black and white skulls.
The affect up close was ok, but from a distance he just looked like an over excited dalmatian, or maybe some kind of flamboyant cow.
A few of them went for color themes, neon red on black. Neon green on blue.
Most of them tried to coordinate with the matching colors on their ship, each trying to outdo the next.
Red smirked.
The docking bay light began to blink red as the airlock was engaged, and the all turned to watch as the doors opened, and Adam’s jet rolled into the docking bay. She was simultaneously both very impressive and very not impressive. She was an instrument of war, and he rockets lined up on either side of her wings said as much. Adam had once considered her rather sleek in comparison to other jets of the day, but looking at her now in comparison with the racing planes and he couldn’t help but compare her to a pitbull or a bulldog next to greyhounds or whippets.
She rolled up slowly and Red raised an eyebrow.
“A whose guy huh?”
Adam smirked, “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”
They both looked up as the F-90 stopped in place, and along her side in delicate blue cursive script was the name Cinderella. The man who had done the graffiti had even taken the time to add some stylized pink roses to the front and end of the word giving it a finished look.
Donavan seemed both amused and annoyed at the same time.
The men and women around him turned to look over ridicule dying on their lips as they saw the smirk on his face.
It was made pretty clear.
He was going to beat them, and when he beat them, he was going to have a princess logo on the side of his jet, never mind all of their cool paint jobs.
Donavan frowned but then turned to everyone, “Alright load up!.”
Adam did as ordered, switching seats with the young pilot in the cockpit and strapping himself in. he adjusted his controls, did a quick once over, and then pulled some power from his engine. There was going to be an overwhelming desire to go fast, but he knew that speed wasn’t going to win him this race.
The jets began lining up next to each other, and to his surprise, one of the sleek racing models sidled up next to him, and when he looked over, he saw Donovan Red cambering into the cockpit.
That didn’t exactly bode well, but what was there to do about it.
He felt cool oxygen spilling onto his mouth and nose as the orange tinted visor dropped down over his eyes. He opted not to use the heads up display preferring to see everything around him as he was flying.
They were all in a line now, and up ahead a large projection appeared on the docking bay doors.
Red lights began to blink as the docking bay was cleared of everyone except for the jets.
The image of a woman appeared on the screen before them.
It was one of the women he had seen before in her cut off jean shorts and tight tank top.
“Ladies and gentlemen start - your - ENGINES!”
All around him the room was filled with a roar as the group of people pushed their engines to an idle.
He could feel the jet underneath him as it thrummed and whined vibrating into his gloves and down into his skin.
His very bones could feel the trembling.
“The course is simple, one lap around the rocky interior ring of the planet. Rules are only this, no leaving the ring, no weapons, and no teams, every man for himself. If the race moderators see any of this, you will be thrown from the race.”
She smiled and leaned back to reveal two green flags in either hand.
She began to wave them.
“On your mark!”
He took a deep calming breath forcing his hand to relax.
“Get set.”
He felt his heart beating hard against his ribcage, his stomach crawled up into his throat, and he felt the sudden and overwhelming need to pee.
“GO!”
THe airlock doors shot open faster than they should have been able, a clear sign someone had bypassed safety protocols. Caught off guard by this, Adam shot out of the gate slower than he would have liked. Already the racing jets streaked ahead, their quicker sleeker designs looking right at home against the blackness of space.
He had to remind himself that in space, without wind resistance, sleek didn’t mean shit.
If he was good enough he could have piloted a brick to win.
He gave more joice to the engine and shot forward. He cut under one of his other opponents and then cythed up next to a second.
He was there for only a moment when he saw something coming in from his right.
Instincts had him move fast, and he turned horizontal shooting upwards just as another jet tried to push him out. He was flying over the two of them now, and gave another burst shooting forward and past them.
This open stretch was the only time he was going to be able to use the power of his engine to his advantage, so he gave her a little more juice and shot forward catching up quickly with the racing models at the front. Two of them cut sideways attempting to block his path. He cursed, forced to fire his engines backwards so as not to go crashing into them.
The ring was approaching quickly now, and he could see very clearly that they had not been kidding. The belt was dense, less mate out of fine sand, and instead made up of billions of rocks some the size of him, others the size of cars, and even some the size of large houses. It was the strangest sort of formation he had ever seen around a planet, and he wondered idly how they stayed in orbit.
The two jets ahead of him cut right and then left as a rock came barreling towards him.
He shouted and rolled to the side barely avoiding a head on collision, his instincts saving him where his active brain could not.
He snarled.
“Pull it together.”
There was no time to be thinking, there was only time for flying.
WIth a practiced hand he toggled a switch on the side of his thumb, and his helmet was suddenly filled with the sound of music and drums. His brain focused inward and stopped thinking. He shot over and then under rolling between rocks just inches away on either side. Off to his right the planet below was glowing with the light of it’s star, a lightning blue halo around it where the atmosphere glowed.
He cut the left dove down and then rolled up.
He could see the other jets ahead of him cutting in and out through the rocks. His breathing grew even, his body relaxed, his brain heard nothing but the beat of the music and saw nothing but the obstacles ahead of him.
One of the jets pulled up next to him from behind recklessly rolling around one of the rocks. They were racing wing tip to wing tip now.
They cut right and left under and over he rolled left they rolled right. They were shaky just hanging on, but his flying was smooth.
Up ahead one of the other jets lit up with glowing orange as a set of flares broke from it’s back end shatting against the debris behind it. Rocks were thrown off their normal course and went smashing into each other turning the rock field ahead of them into a meat grinder. Adam shot forward and dived downward while rolling tight, behind him the racer was unable to replicate the move and a piece of rock caught their wing sending them spinning off to the side and out of the ring.
Adam dodged a piece of debris coming in from his left, flipped upside down and shot diving upward and then righting himself just under the jet up front.
He could see the leader now, and recognized it as Red himself .
The jet above him attempted to drop down and knock him out of position, but he gave a burst to the engine and shot forward.
The jet behind him punched downward and nearly collided into a rock before pulling back into the palace.
Adam took their place in second.
Red could see him coming.
Another set of flares was released.
He checked his forward momentum and rolled three or four times to his right. G forces tugged at his consciousness forcing blackness to the edge of his vision. He tightened the muscles of his chest and stomach forcing blood back up into his head as he breathed out in short controlled bursts.
A rock flew overhead, he cut low, bumped up and then executed a rolling turn over a massive rock pulling in behind red and just up to the right to avoid another burst of flares.
The two of them were fighting for the front now.
And red was good, he knew how to handle a jet, but so did Adam.
They roared past a field of rocks splitting apart as a massive chunk came between them. Adam roared forward, and panicked for a single moment as he saw an impenetrable wall of rock appear just before him. Then a crack appeared. He fired the forward engine and cut horizontal passing through an opening that left him only feet to spare. Rock rose up to meet him, and he rotated his engine up dropping vertically before cutting sideways and passing under a rock. Teeth gritted, he punched upward passing through a gap just as it closed behind him.
A yell of exertain escaped his lips as he pulled straight up cutting up the side of a massive mansion-sized rock before diving right back down into the thick of it.
Red was gone, he didn’t see him anymore.
Was he up front?
And then the sleek black jet dropped down from above cutting him off.
He cursed and swerved low past another rock forced to cut diagonal back into line.
He pulled up wing to wing with the men again.
They dove, they pulled up and they took a wide turn ac coordinated together as a military formation never more than four feet apart.
They were going faster than they probably should have reacted. second by second he rolled left Red went right. They both met in a dive rolling past each other, wings almost touching before cutting upwards mirroring each other in opposite directions. The sound of the music melded with the path of his flight.
They were racing side by side just as one of the other jets roared over them careening out of control in a desperate attempt t o reach front. They watched him dive pull up cut left, and then a rock rolled right into their path. The two of them barely had time to react as the rock hit their right wing and then sent them slamming into the next boulder. There was an eruption and a brief ball of fire as oxygen was consumed from inside the cockpit. Debris blossomed up around them in a miniature explosion.
Adam greeted his teeth, eyes wide .
What was once a race suddenly turned into a battlezone. He and Red dove together rolling around the debris desperately trying to avoid getting cut in two. At these speeds, one hit would be the death of them. His heart raced in his chest as he pulled forward cutting in the triangle made by three boulders side by side. Red mirrored him below.
A chunk of metal shot towards him, and he toggled his right wing burst just in time, lowering his left side just in time for the chunk to go flying past him. He pulled up with a gasp as a massive chunk of rock cut up before him. Red shot below and he rolled over the top coming into second place.
Up ahead a mining barge ascended through the line of rocks.
Adam roared with exertion as he pulled up and leveled out shooting right under the attached arm of the barge. Red lights erupted over it’s hull in a proximity warning as he went just inches overhead.
The barge driver, clearly spooked twisted to the side and the arm of the barge rolled with it, catching a boulder and sending it flying towards the grouping next to it, there was a sudden explosion of rock and again he was forced to roll to the side. Up down, over and under, cything between lines of rock.
He was almost hit once, then twice.
He toggled the forward engines, slowing himself down and then shooting straight up before continuing forward.
The rocks around him were rolling unpredictably colliding and then exploding into smaller pieces. There was no way he was making it through that alive.
He was rolling diving spinning twisting, and then, he felt it…. Something he had only felt on occasion. The world around him went silent, everything seemed to slow, and he was filled with…. With a feeling. It was like light, bursting out from his chest, rolling up through his skin and into his head.
He entered a moment of perfect execution. He cut into a tight roll his wings cything through the minute gaps between debris with timing so perfect it shouldn't have been humanly possible. Rocks passed by him at hundreds of miles an hour inches away from the glass of his canopy, one wrong move and he’d be dead. He cut through a gap that gave him inches on either side rolld right dove down, turned left, spun once and then twice, and made a completely vertical ascent. Rocks flew past him on his right and on his left.
Up ahead he could see a gap slowly closing before him. He opened up his engine and shot forward so fast everything was a blur.
The rocks collided behind him as they snapped shut, and he flew into the clear firing forward to slow himself, and then red was there too descending from above spinning and wobbling, almost out of control and careening directly towards a house sized boulder.
He panicked firing up and down at the same time and sending him into a spin.
He was heading directly towards the rock .
WIthout thinking Adam locked onto the rock, and fired. A rocket under his wing detached and shot forward exploding violently just in time for Red to pass through unharmed. Red jolted awkwardly and rolled to one side. Adam cut past under from right to left and rolled straight over red to avoid a rock.
There was a moment where the two of them were staring at each other through the clear canopy.
Eyes met for an instant, and Adam could see the wide eyed fear on the man’s face., Then Adam rolled ahead ducking under the last rock and then bursting out into space.
He let the F-90 have her moment, and completely opened the engine shooting forward and cutting through the finish line which flashed bright green. In that moment He was hit with such a sense of exhilaration and joy that he couldn't imagine anything better. Who needed drugs, who needed love, who needed any of that when you could fly.
Hed did a triumphant loop whooping the whole way.
Of course, a feeling like that can never last long and slowly began to fade away. THe reality of what he had just done was both terrifying and amazing to the point he felt his body begging to shake. The tension and fear he had been holding back exploded inside him just like that joy and he found his hands trembling on the joystick.
He let it overtake him. He had been like this since he was young and fighting it would only make things worse. Despite his shaking hands he flew back to the docking bay and landed his jet with the precision of a surgeon. Finally when the engine was off and the flood stable underneath him he slumped back in his seat shaking and racked with rolling tremors. He closed his eyes and breathed long and slow.
Behind him the others came limping in.
None of them were completely unscathed, at least one person was dead. His hands continued to shake as the airlock doors shut, and as soon as the room was pressurized, he opened the cockpit. As soon as it did, Sunny came running into the room and up the ladder. SHeleft her spear on the floor and helped him to climb out. His legs were shaking and he almost fell if it weren’t for her support.
She knew him too well, sitting him down on the lowest step and kneeling next to him.
“Are you ok?”
He grinned at her, “That was…. Holy shit.”
He held up his hand to watch the shaking, “I’m having an earthquake.”
It was just then that Red jumped out of his jet onto the floor. He staggered when he did but pushed away the men who tried to help, “What the ever loving FUCK just happened. The field had NEVER been like that. Jaz DIED out there, what the FUCK.”
The people milled around in confusion.
Red turned to him, eyes narrowing as he stalked over. Adam sighed and looked up as the man stopped to stand over him
“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”
The man paused confused, “What?”
“I broke the rules. Means I forfeit.”
Red looked almost nonplussed, “What are you on about?”
Adam slowly took to his feet taking a few more deep wreaths to steady himself before drawing to his full height. He was stead now and looked down at Red with an unwavering gaze. He held out a hand, “I used weapons during the race, that was against the rules. These weren’t flares to move the rocks. I used a targeted missile during the race and that means I broke the rules.”
Red stared at him.
Then he snorted, “Damn the rules. You saved my ass.” he turned to look at his people, “I am more than man enough to acknowledge that.” HE turned back to Adam, “You saved my life you crazy bastard. I am not even sure how you are still alive ….. Because that flying…. That was….. Holy fuck.” He grinned and took Adam by the shoulder, “you shaking, man.” He held up his hand to show a tremor, “Me too, now let's go get some drinks and talk this out. I owe you after all.”
The two of them walked off through the forest of shaken pilots, “You are the kind of man I can see myself doing business with.”
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Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.1
this arid world has turned my deep heart dry
This is the first chapter in my new ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.
Chapter Summary: follows S5E1 and Spencer's depression and disordered thinking is introduced.
TW: depression, disordered thinking, loneliness, the events of s5e1 (guns and knives)
Word Count: 3.4k
RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3
SPENCER
"She simply said this arid world has turned her deep heart dry, there was just one way she knew of to finally feel like she was free, and it was 1400 feet beneath the cold and stormy sea." — Erin Hanson
Spencer’s entire body feels heavy as he drags himself into work, and it’s not exactly a good sign when he can’t even find the energy to press the button for the right floor; he just stares pitifully at the array of numbers as if the elevator will read his mind and resolve the issue for him. Eventually, he brings himself to move his finger the short distance, cold metal colliding with cold flesh, and the doors shudder close, catapulting him up several storeys towards his fate.
Some might call the emotions Spencer’s experience typical burnout, far too common in the FBI and even more so in units that deal directly with horrific crime on the regular, but he knows it’s more than that. His entire life is operating in a minor key, he’s functioning entirely on auto-pilot, and chunks of his day are a blur, almost impossible to recall. He knows he’s depressed. Knowing such a fact, however, does little to cure the actual problem. He has no idea what to do with information like this except bottle it up and shove it as far down as possible while pretending as much as possible that absolutely everything is fine.
Emily and Derek are laughing about something as he approaches their group of desks. Only weeks ago he would’ve been crushed when they don’t so much as look over to say hello, but now he’s glad to not have to fake a smile, invent a story to tell about his weekend, pretend he’s not currently being held together with slowly peeling sellotape.
Instead, he focuses on feeling grateful that no one’s commented on him arriving a whole hour later than he used to as he unpacks his messenger bag. It’s not like it’s his fault he can’t pull his exhausted body out of bed in the morning, but since he’d rather not disclose such sorry information and finding an excuse is way too much effort, spending the morning in solitude seems the only option.
He doesn’t really understand how he’s gone from being a genuinely happy person, thick as thieves with everybody on the team, to this. It’s almost as though somebody’s cut the rope tying him to the others and now he’s drifting away, sinking without everyone else’s buoyancy to keep him afloat. He can see them all still tied together, barely seeming to notice their drowning team member, clearly not missing his presence.
This misery over his inevitable isolation, though, is his own fault: he can’t believe he let himself forget his place. He’s useful, good to keep around for his intelligence, his reading speed, his problem-solving skills, but it doesn’t go beyond that. Spencer is not friendship material. And he certainly isn’t relationship material.
The day starts off slow, everyone burying themselves in their paperwork, but Spencer finishes it far too quickly for it to really serve as much of a distraction. Depressingly, it’s still miles slower than he’s used to. Since his pile of consults seems too exhausting to even look at, he decides another coffee is very much in order.
“Hey, Spence,” JJ says happily as soon as he pushes his way into the breakroom. She’s leaning casually against the counter as she drinks her coffee, reading through what looks like case notes at the same time.
“Hi,” he says, trying for a smile but he knows there’s no way he could possibly match her relaxed grin. Instead of trying to converse, he just heads straight for the coffee machine, fixing his eyes on the steady stream of coffee pouring into his mug already piled high with sugar.
“You alright?” JJ asks, sounding a little suspicious. Not concerned, Spencer notes, just suspicious.
“Hmm?” He looks up and catches her eye before deciding he should probably answer verbally. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been acting a bit off the past few weeks.”
Spencer sighs. Maybe this is an opportunity to actually communicate his feelings. He doubts JJ will be able to help but really he’d just like a bit of comfort: he’s in so much pain that a hug would feel really nice right now. And besides Penelope, she’s probably the team member he’s most comfortable with. If he’s going to share with anybody, it should be JJ.
“I’ve been having a bit of a hard time, I guess,” he admits, looking up as his left-hand fidgets on the hot ceramic side of his coffee mug. He resents how vulnerable his voice sounds, he’s giving far too much of himself over to hands he’s not sure he can trust, but there’s nothing he can do about that now.
“Really?” JJ sounds surprised. Spencer recognises the tone as that of anyone who has a certain perspective on him realising that he also has feelings alongside his intelligence, and it hurts. “I’m sorry, Spence.”
Spencer just presses his lips into a thin line and nods awkwardly in thanks.
“I mean… at least you’re not going through what Hotch is,” she offers, completely unhelpfully. “He’s still trying to cope with his divorce and isn’t seeing Jack as much as he used to. Derek was almost killed by the Reaper just a few months ago, Emily only recently lost a childhood friend — I mean, the whole team has been through a lot. Keep your chin up.”
She smiles at him, patting him on the shoulder, before leaving the break room and heading back to her office, leaving Spencer standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. He wants to shout that he was literally poisoned with anthrax only a month ago, if they’re tallying bad things happening as a method of tracking who has the right to be miserable. The others might be going through a lot, that’s true, but it doesn’t lessen any of the pain thudding in his chest and stirring in his stomach.
As he walks back to his desk, he realises he’s learned one thing: opening up = not a good idea.
As completely fucking miserable as he might be, there’s exactly one person in this world who doesn’t deserve to be burdened with any of it, so he carefully tucks it away in his pockets and plasters on the mask he’d perfected so many years ago. It might be a little rusty, after all, it’s been little used in recent years, but it works just as well as it used to do when he pushes the door open to Penelope’s office.
“I bring blueberry muffins,” he says as cheerfully as he can muster, and something inside him does warm as Penelope’s face lights up, squealing a little as she reaches her arms out eagerly, making grabby hands at the paper bag he’s holding.
“Oh, you have no idea how much I love you,” she moans, keen to rip the bag open as he pulls up a chair next to hers.
“I think I do,” Spencer chuckles, and it’s one of the only genuine reactions he’s given in months, “mostly because you tell me every day.”
“Mm, that’s right,” she concedes through a mouthful of warm muffin, pointing a finger at his chest. “I love you even more than I love coding.”
“That’s a lot,” Spencer says, trying for serious but he can’t stop a fond smile slipping across his face.
Penelope swallows her rather large bite of blueberry muffin and passes him his one. “It is,” she says. “How are you, anyway? You look tired, poor baby.”
Spencer looks down for a moment, schooling his expression for a second before he forces himself to look back up at her. “Yeah, I didn’t… didn’t sleep well last night, I guess.” He tries for a reassuring smile but he knows it’s more of a grimace.
Penelope’s face immediately morphs into one of grave concern. Spencer knows that that’s just the way she is, melodrama and fierce protectiveness is virtually her brand at this point, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t any less agonising to see, or the anxiety of being found out any less paralysing. He decides not to give her any room to actually address it.
“I’ll be fine, Penelope, don’t worry,” he says, turning away to brush some muffin crumbs off the desk and into his hand, purely so he doesn’t have to attempt another pathetic smile. “A good night’s sleep tonight will fix me right up.”
“Are you sure?” she asks, still looking far too worried for Spencer’s liking.
“Of course, Pen.” He feels sick at lying to her, but he has no idea how to broach any of the tumultuous emotions raging inside of him, especially after JJ shut him down so brutally. “It’s only a bad nights’ sleep.”
He’s saved from her inevitable continued line of questioning by Emily poking her head round the door and asking for Spencer’s opinion on a consult.
While getting out of bed in the morning might be an almost impossible task at the moment, the idea of getting into it at night seems rather depressing, really. That’s probably the reason he’s still at the office, despite the time nearing 8 o’clock and exhaustion settling into every muscle fibre of his being. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it’s just a little more time in close proximity to one Aaron Hotchner.
Of course, he’d had to accept the fact that he was maybe, just a little bit in love with his boss a long time ago. He just refuses to admit that he’s this embarrassing about it. Perhaps staying late to spend more time with someone you like this much wouldn’t be so weird if there was a reasonable chance of conversation — if he ever even saw him — but there isn’t even that: Spencer sits and works quietly at his desk, Aaron sits and works quietly in his office.
Today, though, today his lingering finally pays off.
Aaron is on his way back from the photocopier when he stops by Spencer’s desk. He doesn’t see him coming, though, is the thing: he has no time to try and make himself look even a smidge less miserable or to school his surprised yet utterly lovesick expression.
“Won’t you want to be heading off soon, Reid?” he asks, clearly curious as to why Spencer remains at his desk when there’s no real work to be doing, but he cleverly paints it in a light-hearted tone. Even though Spencer is completely aware of what Aaron’s doing, he doesn’t feel attacked or under pressure.
“Oh,” Spencer says unintelligently, stammering a little as he scrambles desperately at a somewhat coherent reply, “yes, yeah, I’ll get going soon.” He doesn’t want to lie when he doesn’t have to, so he doesn’t try and offer an explanation for his staying late, and he knows Aaron won’t push. He manages an almost entirely genuine smile, though, which must count for something, even if it’s only because he’s hopelessly in love with the man leaning casually against his desk.
“Right then,” Aaron says, offering a small smile in response, letting his hard exterior drop in the nearly empty office, and even though it’s nothing special, not really, Spencer carefully files it away as his heart pitter-patters against his ribcage and his stomach pools with warmth. “See you tomorrow, Reid.”
Spencer just nods in response and gathers his things, placing them carefully in his messenger bag and shrugging his jacket on before walking out of the building. When he glances back, just as he pulls the glass door open, Aaron is watching him carefully. He doesn’t turn away but instead offers a small wave, which Spencer returns bashfully, blushing scarlet in the elevator and on the walk out of the HQ and during the whole trek down the street and sat on the metro train and on the final stretch home. He fumbles with his keys and curses himself for being so goddamn pathetic.
He doesn’t consider it for long, though, because he’s utterly exhausted and his tired bones collapse on the sofa, and who is he to try and get them to move again? Sleep is a mercy.
🌧
The case is gruelling and stressful enough without the endless and constant worry about where on earth Aaron is. He never turns his phone off and Spencer can’t think of a time he’s worked a case without him, not properly; he’s always the first one at the office, the first one on the plane, the first to jump out of bed towards the chance to make a real difference in the world. It’s so out of character for him and it’s utterly distressing.
Nevertheless, he focuses all his attention on the job; on protecting Jeffrey and Tom Barton, on bringing justice to the perpetrator when they inevitably find them. He offers lame and desperate excuses for Aaron not being there, all the while knowing full well that none of them are likely. Something is wrong and he’s powerless to help.
Emily tells him why. He sort of forgets how to breathe.
Getting shot in the leg while simultaneously petrified for the livelihood of the person you’re in love with is inconvenient at best when trying to talk down an unsub and protect a victim and eventually fatal at worst, but somehow he half-manages and Tom escapes unscathed, though he isn’t quite as lucky with the unsub.
That’s what matters, really, isn’t it? That others are safe, even if it means he’s in danger? After all, Tom Barton has lives to save and a son to raise, a wide social circle, and a loving family. What does Spencer have? No, it’s much better that he’s the one hurt than anyone else.
Of course, once the adrenaline of the situation starts to wear off and medics arrive on scene, he realises quite how badly he’s hurt. Already feeling woozy, energy seems to seep out of him as roaring, raging agony takes its place. It’s the first time he’s ever been shot and it’s worse than he could have imagined: no amount of studying literature and anecdotal evidence could prepare him for the feeling of a small metal ball tearing through the flesh and muscle and tendons — though, hopefully, and judging by the amount of blood he’s lost, no arteries or large blood vessels — of his thigh.
His team arrives, minus Emily and minus Hotch, and they’re concerned, of course they are. That is, until he presents them with someone they see as much more important, someone whose life is worth something, someone they care about deeply being hurt. And they leave.
He doesn’t get a chance to tell the medics that he doesn’t want narcotics, so the ride to the hospital is a blur of morphine and voices talking to him, though he can’t quite piece together what they’re saying. He wonders vaguely where everybody is, whether Hotch is alright, whether he’s about to die, but no real emotion is attached to any of these thoughts, they just… are.
He’s rushed into surgery almost immediately after he arrives at the hospital, and the next thing he’s aware of is a dull, ever-present, agonising ache in his upper thigh and exhaustion settled into his bones like his body is pain’s home, fatigue’s resting place. The last time he’d blinked himself awake in a hospital bed, blinding pain burning in one part of his body or another, Derek had been sat by his bed, eating jello.
There’s nobody by his bed this time.
A PCA pump is resting by his right hand but he doesn’t touch it. Clearly, nobody from his team has informed the hospital staff of his previous addiction; he doesn’t even know if they’re at the hospital; if they know what’s going on. The morphine he’s already had is going to be hard enough to deal with, he can feel the future cravings itching beneath his skin already, scarred-over track marks simmering away.
It’s over twenty-five minutes of lying helplessly on a hospital bed in a cool, impersonal room, feeling a certain kind of emptiness sitting in his stomach, before a nurse comes by. She looks pleased enough to see him awake, but he doesn’t care about her satisfaction, he cares about his team, about Penelope, about Aaron, and he’s too exhausted to do anything about it.
“Good, you’re awake,” she says cheerily and for once, he doesn’t try and conceal his despondency. It’s oddly freeing. “I’ll get the doctor to come and explain the situation.”
She bumbles out of the room, clearly not fazed by Spencer’s expression, so he resumes staring at the wall, allowing his thoughts to wander, still not managing to attach much emotion to them other than a miserable sort of emptiness.
The doctor is nice enough, making sure he understands his injury and the procedures he’s had done, as well as the recovery ahead of him, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s as though this is the last straw; this is the proof, the evidence to win the case he’s been fighting in the court of his mind. His team doesn't care. His life is worthless. He will always, always be alone.
JJ stops by briefly. This feels like it should be a consolation, but it isn’t. He learns of what’s happened to Aaron, what his family is going through, and suddenly he feels selfish: how dare he demand and crave attention when Aaron is far more hurt and injured than he is? When he’s far more important and far more deserving of the team’s attention? Self-loathing creeps up his throat and settles into grey cotton wool that won’t melt in his mouth.
Spencer doesn’t know how to react to the incredibly overwhelming events of the day, and JJ doesn’t seem to have time for this. “Right, Spencer,” she says, visibly impatient with his emotional floundering, his lack of verbal response, “I need to go. We need to sort this out for Hotch. We owe it to him.”
She leaves, and all Spencer can think is how much more worthless not being able to work on his case makes him. If he can’t even work to save the man he loves; if he can’t strive effortlessly to protect him and make him happy, then what is he doing here? Aaron will be furious when he finds out Spencer laid in bed lazily instead of diving headfirst into the case.
No. That’s not true. He’ll be sickeningly nice about it, while on the inside suppressing his disappointment, and Spencer will feel even more guilty, he’ll be even more irate with himself, and life will seem just a little bit bleaker.
He’s discharged a few days later, and nobody has visited, barring JJ’s fleeting, impatient stop by. He goes home in a taxi and struggles up the stairs on his crutches, almost glad he didn’t have many personal items at the hospital. Then again, that was because he was completely isolated. And if he did have people to bring him things in the hospital, then he’d probably have someone to help him up the stairs too.
It’s a moot point, really. He dives straight for the non-narcotic painkillers he’d been prescribed as soon as he sits down on his dusty couch in his messy apartment, desperate to relieve at least some of the agony throbbing in his leg still. Clearly, the universe decided he wasn’t in enough pain already; that the unrequited love and the growing depression and the recurring stomach cramps and clenches in his chest weren’t quite sufficient.
He knows the team is working flat out on the Foyet case. But even Penelope, who probably works the hardest of all of them, has had time to send him an encouraging text message promising to pop round as soon as she can. Other than that, his phone is dry and his heart slowly freezing over.
Truthfully, he’s not sure how much more of this he can stand. He’s feeling the same way he did as a child: isolated, othered, hurt, and utterly, utterly alone. When he’d joined the BAU and was welcomed immediately into the arms of a family, he promised himself he’d never feel like that again. He would never, ever allow himself to sink so low; not when he was surrounded by so many people who proved day in day out how much they loved him. Surely, feeling like this would simply be impossible.
For once, Doctor Spencer Reid is proved wrong. And it burns, festers, and screams like nothing else.
Chapter Two
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