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vaguely-concerned · 3 years

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The Mandalorian Chapter 15 rewatch thoughts

- mayfeld does hear when the droid talks to him the first time, you can see him pretending not to like he hopes he’ll just go away haha. I also guess he’s had a lot of time to think, picking apart pieces of the large fascist machine he used to be a part of and going over everything he clearly regrets

- hahaha fennec and boba are in the back intensely keeping watch the entire time they’re on the prison planet. I suppose a good two thirds of this crew is uuuuh extremely wanted by the new republic lol

- the thing din’s voice does at the end when he says “but you still know your imperial clearances and protocols. don’t you.” is beyond fucking words, it sends a chill right through me

1) din fiddling with that panel; I think he’s phenomenally nervous behind the helmet here, that’s the sort of keeping his hands busy he does when he’s anxious and 2) why the hell does boba have this many chairs instead of like space for cargo haha does he throw bounty hunter parties in here or what

- ngl boba correctly guessing at a glance what sort of ore they’re mining and informing everyone in his sardonic deadpan voice is Big Sexy

I love how he and fennec are standing together when they’re both present in these opening scenes too, first at the very back when they’re keeping a lookout:

and then in the foreground while they discuss the scan

it’s a nice subtle way to get across that they already have a dynamic, they’re somewhat used to working together as a unit at this point. (she’s also looking over at him when she asks what they might be mining in there, like she’s mostly asking his opinion instead of opening it to the floor. they’re talking the mission out between them before din enters the conversation)

- the inside of slave 1 when the ship’s moving makes me a little bit motion sick, I really love seeing it but I hope we don’t stay in here too often haha

- aaaw the small weary sigh din gives upon realizing none of his bros can go with mayfeld. I’m sorry about basically your entire life buddy

the awkward way din adjusts the helmet like he’s trying to get used to the way it feels ;______;

- ah the distinct implication that mayfeld is needling din about this because he’s actually feeling super uncomfortable being back in empire gear and he needs to transfer that discomfort over onto someone else so he won’t have to feel through it... very psychologically understandable and such a fucking piece of shit asshole character trait to give in to haha

- din’s level of side eye is so epic you can see it straight through the helmet fhaskjfhd

- neat detail: din’s head turns slightly toward mayfeld when he calls mandalorians a ‘race’. (it’s sort of cool that we as the audience know why that bothers him, but mayfeld probably didn’t even pick up on it). also shows that mayfeld doesn’t actually quite understand what he’s talking about, even when he makes decent points he’s caught up in his own myopic nihilistic point of view. ‘we’re all the same’ ------> ‘everyone’s secretly as shitty as me deep down’. (which also betrays a lot of self loathing, since we see later he does have the capacity to NOT be that shitty when he chooses to. rick famuyiwa manages to get a LOT of really interesting nuanced stuff into this character in two short episodes, that’s super impressive)

the bright sunny look on mayfeld’s face when din finally gives in and takes the bait tho fsajdkfhasj he’s awful but that’s very funny

- rip all these excellent dudes who really only wanted to accomplish the noble goal of ruining the empire’s entire day and didn’t know they were also trying to blow up My Dad Who Does Not Deserve Any Of This, it’s honestly just really sad that there’s no moment to talk that out

well at least they blew up the entire refinery on their way out, I’m sure that’s the way they would have wanted their memories honored lol

- the comedy beat of din running out of ammo for the first time ever and the music briefly cutting out for it is so so good for me

hahahaha din seems to actually take a moment to be a little aghast at that dude who ends up crushed under the treads of the tank thing, he’s just sort of staring for a few seconds too long and that’s how pirate nr 2 takes him by surprise and shatters his shoulder armour

- I feel a bit bad -- two of the ‘pirates’ try to hold on to each other for balance and then din punches them apart and off the tank :( I mean it’s not like he could just let them murderate him either but like. ouch I’m guessing this one might haunt him for a while for several reasons huh

(the sequence is actually this guy, let’s call him pirate 3, swings the spear at din and misses, instead hitting his buddy who’s trying to get to his feet, then looks horrified and grabs for him to make sure he doesn’t fall off, and then... mando’s forehead happens to them haha)

- poor fennec and cara just running up that hill while everything’s on fire, they must be wondering what the FUCK is going on (at least cara knows that things blowing up is a sure sign din djarin is in the middle there somewhere)

- everything about carano in real life aside for one second -- I do like that we get this contrast in build between our main female characters of the episode and the way their costume designs enhance it

- awwww the little gesture din does with his hand after he removes it from mayfeld’s chest after stopping him from leaving, it’s just so... sweet. it’s a little bit appeal, a little bit reassurance, it just lightens/softens the tone of what he says a bit (he has quite a lot of like... not conciliatory mannerisms exactly, but small touches here and there that are there to communicate that he’s not angry/aggressive or trying to be a dick about it even when he’s emphatic. I keep wondering how much that is just him being him and how much is him being practiced at settling other people’s hot tempers)

- this shot is just... genius

it’s din seen entirely from the outside, with nothing of what we’ve learned to recognize as him for almost two seasons now in view -- not even his face, which we have at least a tenuous fledgling attachment to from before. it’s like we get introduced to him almost as if anew again and again in this episode, just like he’s getting introduced to new aspects of himself and what he’s willing to do and having to struggle to find ways to have that fit with who he is. his discomfort and stress is our discomfort and stress. it’s so interesting

- I can’t stop cackling at this moment even in all the tension -- you only get a sliver of din’s profile but you can feel the sheer MURDER radiating off him sdhfasjk

- aaaaaaaagh the way you get a whole different view of din’s habitual impassiveness when you can actually see his face... the way he keeps appealing to mayfeld ‘just don’t make more trouble, just shut up’, the way he goes completely silent and watchful and frozen..... those are all really obvious trauma responses, and it leads you to wonder how often he touches into that even when he’s in his element, when he’s got the full armour on. hmngh my heart

- ‘the believer’ is such a galaxy brain title for this episode, because it could be referring to either of the three men around this table or all of them at once. (and crucially the only person whose beliefs aren’t in a living, breathing state of adapting to the world around them is the empire officer, with his horrific inhuman ideology. mayfeld thinks he believes in nothing, and proves himself explosively wrong by the end of the episode, and it’s redeeming for him in some capacity. din is facing a more internal dilemma of different parts of his (and his culture’s) beliefs/values clashing and having to decide which one’s more important, to his identity and to how to exist in the world as a person (and love for the baby wins out supremely in the end. of course it does Y_____Y). the empire dude only sees the same sterile fascist world at the end of his shit rainbow that he’s clearly always done, even when faced with proof that it’s untenable. (I mean he wouldn’t give a fuck that it’s immoral because he’s y’know evil, but he’s not even fazed by the fact that the empire provably FAILED, and failed so quickly) his belief is a dead and deadening thing to contrast the others. man when this show goes off with the themes it goes OFF haha)

- love the triumphant heroic mando music kicking in as we’re finally getting to pick off imps, love that for us

- din’s protective instincts at work again, he helps mayfeld to his feet and makes sure he’s safely on board before going further in himself ;_______;

- fennec’s professional approval at mayfeld’s shot hahaha. well I guess he was supposed to be a sharpshooter back in the day huh

I do Not think she likes mayfeld even after all that, though, the withering look she sends him on her way past... should have killed him stone dead on the spot

- seeing din back in the armour is like a physical relief, I can breathe again haha

- tfw you catch yourself thinking ‘at least when all this is over we can go back to the razor crest and everything will be normal again’ and then you rEMEMBER 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #honestly I could add a lot more of my boba thirst in this lol (idk din is always Dad not Daddy to me but boba's Doing something for me haha)

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ilcaeryx · 4 years

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Make It Happen [Gojo Satoru/Reader]

Summary: You’ve only known Gojo Satoru for a week, yet he wants you to stay in Tokyo instead of returning home.

Tags: Gojo Satoru/Reader, Fluff, Fledging romance, Cute, Gojo is touchy-feely, Life choices, Goodbyes, Crushes, Moving, Honesty, Pre-relationship

Wordcount: 1.5k

Author’s Note: Yo. Here’s something I wrote listening to LOONA’s Universe.

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Your spontaneous trip to the capital was officially becoming a mere memory, a vibrant week in your otherwise stagnant and convenient life. Once you boarded that train home, you would reminisce about your new experiences and your new-found friendship in Gojo Satoru. On the inside, you were incredibly grateful for having the chance to experience the semblance of a life in Tokyo, much thanks to his hospitality. How you would ever repay him, you had no idea. A stray tear balanced against your eyelashes and you subtly caught it with a digit.

Eight minutes until departure, which could be either an eternity or a flash depending on your mindset. You hoped it was the former. Your insides howled, a chaotic storm overwhelming you with the knowledge that you could remain in Tokyo and live. Your small-town life was quaint, without hardships and you were surrounded by your loved ones – an existence you increasingly dreaded to return to. It was an isolated life.

Satoru ceased walking and pointed at your train with a thumb. “This is your train. I told you it’d be easy for you to find.”

You joined him, your arms straight against your sides. In one hand you held your ticket home, in the other a bag containing assorted goods chosen by Satoru. A farewell present you’d devour by yourself on the train.

“Perhaps for you,” you answered. “Not everyone has an amazing sense of orientation.”

“It’s less being good at something and more of an experience thing. I travel a lot for work, so I know my way around here.” Satoru had your travel bag behind your shoulder, running his free hand up and down the strap. He was wearing some fashionable big-city wear and you had your easy-to-move-in tourist wear, yet you thought that perhaps you two seemed like a couple about to travel to the surrounding people.

A train further away stopped with a screech, naturally ending your exchange. The abundance of sounds still bothered you a bit and you couldn’t help but glance in that direction.

Tone devoid of any traces of humour, Satoru said, “You should stay here.”

You looked up at him, his profile beautiful as he peered down at you from the edge of his vision. Those words reinforced your fantasies of a future that could come true. An interesting job, a teeny overpriced flat, new friends and the company of Gojo Satoru. It could be amazing. Could being the keyword, of course. Your shoulders felt less light with this realization. There was much that could go wrong.

He jutted an index finger in the air, as if proving a point. “Tokyo will do wonders for you.”

“You’ve known me for less than a week,” you said, covering a hesitant smile behind your wrist. “What makes you think I’m not better off in a small town?”

“After you get home, all you’re gonna do is sit by your computer.” Ouch, true – but it still stung. “You’ve got a year’s worth of entertainment here. You like touristy stuff, right? This is the perfect place for that kind of stuff.” Satoru straightened his back and faced you with his entire body. “And I’m here. Isn’t that the most important part, after all?”

Whatever expression he was making, you had never seen it aimed at you before. His lips were tight-lipped and somewhat upturned, an anticipating smile stained by uncertainty. While his glasses obscured most of his eyes, his eyebrows were upturned, causing slight wrinkles that did not match his usual disposition.

Was that last part meant to be a joke or is he serious? I cannot tell with this guy.

“It’d certainly be fun to move here… I don’t want to die knowing I could’ve had more, even if it’s a greedy sentiment." You drew your hands against your ribs, fiddling with your train ticket. “However, I’d have to leave behind my friends and family… I am not sure I could do that.”

“They will be alive.”

Factually correct in the universal sense, yet it would impact your existence terribly to part from them. What were you willing to sacrifice to feel satisfied upon your deathbed? Comfort? The presence of your family? An easy life? You’d miss your loved ones an awful lot – would the accumulated feelings of being apart be greater than mourning the potential of an amazing life?

This sentence meant more to Satoru than was apparent, you suspected. He hadn’t shared much about his past other than mentioning crazy teenage hijinks. Perhaps his past held a painful separation and this was how he reasoned himself into peace. The reason for his pure honesty.

“But if you don’t move here,” he said, pouting his lower lip, “I’d have to travel two hours to see you all the time. That would be bothersome.”

His usual playful persona resurfaced and you replied with a grateful sigh. His tendency to ventilate his true thoughts was hilarious when applied to others… not so much when directed at you. You needed time to think this through, while he seemed to steamroll his way through decisions. Although you were severely flattered by his comment, even when said in such a light-hearted manner, you reprimanded him with a soft smack. “You can’t say those kind of things when you’re an adult.”

“I can say whatever I want since the second-hand embarrassment is everyone else’s problem.” He got closer to you as another train screeched into the station, bending down slightly to accommodate for the difference in height. It bothered you a bit how profoundly you relished in his body heat, even if it was faint.

“It’s not embarrassing per se… but it just appeals to fantasies that may not turn out well.”

“Hard work will give the best possible outcome. Just do your best.” He readjusted your scarf, tightening it around your neck. His fingers were entangled in the fabric, straightening it out. You dropped your bag onto the floor, surprising yourself with the surge of courage in your action. You grasped Satoru’s hands, your thumbs below his palms and your fingers spread across the back of his hands.

“What about everything that could go wrong?” you asked.

Satoru remained silent for a few seconds before bowing down and resting his forehead on your knuckles. Nothing had ever happened before that made you want to kiss the crown of another person’s head this much. You did not understand what was going on, but you were positively shivering.

“If it goes wrong, it’s still an experience. You might not enjoy it while it is happening, but you’ll appreciate it afterwards. At the very least you’ll appreciate you got out of the chaos alive.”

You thought back to situations in your life where you could apply this school of thought. There was some truth in his words. Still, he downplayed the sacrifices and effort because those were not his to bear.

“… I’ll consider it. I can’t take a decision like that spontaneously, but I’ll think it through.”

“As long as you get here…,” he paused, an unnatural hesitancy in his voice, “everything will be alright.”

Something told you he would have expressed this differently, had you not jested about his honesty being embarrassing. Hearing an adult speak their innermost thoughts in such a manner was refreshing, for those were all things you wanted to believe despite reality proving your wrong. You wanted to believe him, you really did, even if you had only known each other for a week.

You both detached from each other without a sound, a joint decision after hearing the warning call for your train. He carefully treaded your travel bag on one shoulder, and you picked up your bakery bag.

Bowing neatly, you said, “I’m happy got lost in Shinjuku, otherwise we would never have met. Thank you for approaching me.” You said his name affectionately, almost dropping the san-honorific altogether.

He returned the bow. “We would have ended up meeting in one way or another. It’s a tiny universe. Safe travels, Y/N.”

This memory concluded with you rushing into your train mere seconds before the door shut close, alienating you from Tokyo. The bittersweet feeling of returning home, perhaps only temporarily, enshrouded you. Even when you settled into your seat with your baked goods in your hands, a feeling that this trip had changed your life fulfilled your body. Your only regret now was that you had not kissed Satoru goodbye, but it was too early for that – it had only been a week. If possible, you would make it happen the next time you returned to Tokyo. You’d come back and you’d unravel the mystery that was your future and Gojo Satoru.

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If you enjoyed this, please leave a like/comment/reblog! I get super happy whenever I see people appreciating my work.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #reader insert

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judediangelo75 · 3 years

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Claws To Wings

Welcome one and all~

I did say I was going to be working on the Talith lore, so here’s another installment of that. So I did some tweaking to the storyline that Jam City had. So the first Valentine’s Day happened in 4th year instead of 5th (because you can unlock I think both Valentine’s Day TLSQs in the same year and it didn’t make too much sense to me).

Plus there are future true events that happen in 6th year, if you’re already familiar with the Without You/The Man Behind the Necklace series than you already know. During that time, Judith and Talbott are together and have been for quite some time. But before that, they have been pining after each other for years.

In my first story, “The Scent of Love to the Heart of a Loner Poet”, Talbott is coming to realizing how deep his feelings were for Judith (whose been crushing on him since 3rd year). Between then and now, those feelings have grown and they’ve been dancing around each other.

There’s gonna be some details here that are definitely gonna be new (because it’s part of a super old character reference I created for her when I first started posting about HPHM content here).

Anyway, enough rambling. On with the story! Enjoy! 💛

MC friend: David Willows ( @that-scouse-wizard )

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Talbott stood before his mirror, readjusting his tie for probably the fifth time.

He was trying to soothe his nerves. Why you may ask?

Because of the Ball.

The Valentine’s Day Ball.

In his right mind, he would avoid such social gatherings like the plague. But it’s fair to say he hasn’t been much of his right mind ever since he met her.

Judith Harris.

A Hufflepuff witch with pale gold eyes and a heart of gold to match.

He met her alongside her best friend, David Willows, early third year. When they came to him seeking help on becoming Animagi. He was quick to shut both of them down. While David glared and protested, Judith eased the bullheaded Hufflepuff and gave him a shy sad expression along with an apology for disturbing him.

At the time, he wasn’t sure why he suddenly changed his mind to help the two. But as he got older, he did realize it was because of her.

Something about Judith was familiar. And…

He didn’t like the sad look into those bright eyes…

After the two achieved their forms and helped him find his feather necklace, Judith and Talbott became closer. Even to the point where he followed her out to the cemetery and learned about her dead father, Kendrick, on the anniversary of his death.

That’s when he learned that she was a part of his past.

That single day of his childhood where he made a friend. And developed a bond on a girl who he thought was unique with her long pretty locs and Caribbean accent.

With it being their 5th year, Talbott has gone on two dates with her. Their very first date out by the Black Lake and last year on Valentine’s Day when he learned that he has deeper feelings for her outside of a friendship.

He can still remember the sweet blush on her face after he shyly gave her a kiss on the cheek after gifting her with a heart statue.

Giving her a physical representation of his heart.

He fiddled with the ring she gifted him that day. He always remembers seeing it on a black chain around her neck on occasion. Judith was a person who cares about sentimental value so it’s very likely she gifted him something that has a level importance to her. But he was so stunned when she slipped it onto his finger, and that it fitted perfectly, while announcing that it was her Valentine’s Day gift to him that he forgot to ask…

Maybe today he will. After all, after the Ball, he had a special surprise for her.

Of course, there had to be some last minute changes when he realized a certain Slytherin witch ALSO planned on using the Library and two fairies also got into a squabble. He had at least a day to make the arrangement work and the “Most Powerful Witch at Hogwarts” actually might of done him a favor.

It would be nice to revisit where their tale began.

Talbott sighed, looking over his appearance once more before turning on his heel and leaving his room.

‘I hope she likes what I planned. She’s the only who deserves to see this side of me,’ he thought as he made his way to the Great Hall.

——————

“C’mon Little Tigress! We’re gonna be late,” David huffed, knocking insistently on his best mate’s door.

“I look ridiculous! I’m not going anymore!” Came the stubborn reply from the other side. David rolled his eyes at Judith’s behavior.

They’ve been busting their asses to save the Valentine’s Day Ball from a lonely Madam Pince by using a pining Mr. Filch. However, due to all the planning and finally asking out Merula and Talbott (after Judith finally got over her initial shyness), they didn’t have time to style an outfit for themselves. So they went to the resident Style Wizard for help.

David’s pick was easy.

Judith however… not so much.

It was fair to say that Judith was more than disgruntled as she looked in the reflection for the suit Andre put together.

“You lost your damn mind Egwu if you think I’m going to the Ball like this. I look like a mom in her mid-30s looking to speak to your manager to file a complaint.”

David was on the floor in tears when he saw the offended look on the Ravenclaw wizard’s face. To be fair, the suit plus the pixie cut that Andre magically put together wasn’t doing his best mate any favors.

However, she didn’t step out to show the dress to them. She tried it on, switch back into her normal clothes, and left without much of another word.

Now David was curious to what could be wrong with Andre’s design for her to believe she looked “ridiculous”.

“C’mon Judith. What’s wrong with it? Surely it can’t be as bad as that suit Andre design,” David coaxed.

“…It’s… a lot…” David wasn’t sure what to make of that and they’re gonna be late if Judith kept this up.

“Judith, it’s either you open the door willingly to show me what you’re talking about or I break into your room to see for myself. We don’t have time for this right now,” David huffed. He didn’t want to late with for his dance with Merula.

Silence ensued and David was half considering going through with his threat when the tell tale sound of the door unlocking hit his eyes. David turned the knob and walked in.

He paused when he took in the sight of his little friend.

Judith was wearing a short black dress decorated with pink and red roses. A small slit can be found on her right leg. White 3-inch open toe heels were on her feet. Her usual ear accessories and earrings were present. A familiar dark red lipstick, dark eyeshadow, and black eyeliner made an appearance on her face. Her hair was out from its normal twists, curls and coils tumbling down her back and a bang swept over her right eye.

“David,” Judith mumbled awkwardly as her friend stared at her. That seemed to have broke the spell on the wizard as he shook his head to recollect himself.

“Well I’ll be damned… you look far from ridiculous, Judith. You look beautiful,” David said with a smile. Judith blushed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“You sure? It’s kind of revealing, don’t you think,” she asked. David cocked his head to the side, rescanning the girl from head to toe.

He could see her point, but it wasn’t as bad she probably thought it was.

The dress fitted her like glove, revealing the curves she was developing as a young woman. While the dress did show quite a bit of skin, it was still respectable.

“No, not really. To Bill and Orion, possibly but they’re big brothers who naturally want to keep every perverted wizard away from you. Hell, I may end up breaking someone’s teeth in if they think they can disrespect you like that. But you look beautiful Little Tigress, don’t think otherwise. Talbott would definitely agree with me,” David stated, watching his fellow Hufflepuff blushed at the name of the boy she’s been crushing on since third year.

David has been watching the two dance around each other since Judith admitted that she fancied the Ravenclaw wizard in the Charms classroom when practicing the Memory Charm. He was waiting for the two to finally get together already.

“If you’re done worrying, we still have a Ball to get to,” David said with a raised brow.

“But-EEP!” David already saw the protest in her eyes was quick to walk across the room and throw Judith over his shoulder. He only resorted to such measures when she was be difficult, and she was definitely being difficult.

“C’mon Little Tigress, your bird boy is waiting for you,” he said as he made his way out of her room. Judith spluttered over her words, mainly out of embarrassment at both what he said and the unnecessary position David has put her in.

“DAVID! Put me down, you brute! I’m in a dress for Merlin’s sake,” she protested loudly, wriggling in David’s unforgiving grip.

‘Damn demon lineage...’ she thought with a grimace.

“I'm well aware, we can clean you up when we're there with a spell, I not missing my chance to dance with Merula,” David said breezily. Judith gave up, allowing herself to be carried off like a sack of potatoes.

“Bloody sap... stupid dance,” she grumbled under her breath. David chuckled at her disgruntled mood.

“You’ll thank me for it by the end of the night, trust me,” he said. Judith pouted.

‘Assuming I don’t hide in a dark corner somewhere first...’

“Do that and I'm casting Lumos Maxima so there's nowhere for you to hide,” David said suddenly, nearly scaring the girl half to death. Judith mentally slapped her forehead out of exasperation.

She should know better not to think aloud around David, seeing how they’re both Legilmens.

Damn it...

“Fine,” she huffed. Luckily for her, they finally arrived near the entrance of the Great Hall. David finally set her down, and casting a spell that made her look presentable again.

David offered his arm to her.

“Shall we, Little Tigress?” Judith felt her cheeks heating up at the thought of the person waiting on her inside the Great Hall before letting out a sigh. She took her best mate’s arm.

“I guess we shall...”

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

Talbott was chatting alongside with Merula, twirling a red rose between his hands when he heard a whistle. Both turned to make out the figures of their dates not too far from them.

David separated himself from his fellow Hufflepuff to walk up to the two. David gave Talbott a smirk and nodded over in Judith’s direction before stealing Merula away.

Talbott only raised a brow at the Hufflepuff wizard’s behavior before walking up to his date for the night. As he stood in front of her, any words that he was going to say to her, died at the tip of his tongue.

Talbott stared at his date, heart racing with a blush on the high points of his cheekbones as he looked at her from her curls to her high heeled shoes. The silence was starting to unnerve the Hufflepuff witch as her long time love interest stared at her without saying anything.

“Y-you clean up quite nicely, Talbott,” she blurted. She mentally smack herself immediately afterwards.

‘When did I become this awkward, goodness…’

However, seem to have done the trick and snapped Talbott back to reality.

“S-sorry, little bird. I-I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-It’s just that…” Talbott shook his head, trying to focus.

“It’s just that,” Judith echoed slowly, biting her bottom lip. She was worried that David might’ve been wrong and she looked like a fool in front of the boy she had feelings for.

Talbott stepped closer to her, tilting her head up by her chin so she could look at him. He offered a shy smile.

“You look beautiful, Judith. More lovely and temperate than a summer’s day,” He said softly, placing the rose he had behind her left ear. Judith blushed as she felt her heart race at his barely there touch.

“I-I… thank you, Talbott…” The Ravenclaw wizard smiled at the shy response. Behind them the instruments started seemed to be warming up to play the first song.

“May I have this dance,” Talbott asked, mock bowing to the girl. Judith giggled behind a red manicured hand.

“You may…” Taking her hand Talbott led Judith close to the center of the dance floor, with David and Merula standing not too far from them. The fairies that were lighting up the room swirled around the students, leaving them in awe at the magical moment. In the midst of this, David gave his friend a wink, who in turned returned it with an unimpressed glare. Judith returned her attention back to her date once she felt him take one of her hands

“I’m not usually one who likes public displays, but… I quite like this one… almost as much as I like you,” Talbott quietly admitted as he looked into pale gold eyes.

‘Is it possibly to pass out from blushing so much? Because I think I’m close…’ Judith thought as she ducked her head with a smile. Talbott was being so sweet and kind to her, she wanted to be wrapped up in his arms and dance the night away.

Judith looked back up at him with a teasing grin.

“I hope you like dancing too, because it’s our time to shine…”

————————

Talbott was smiling at the laughing girl in his arms as he spun her around. The two have been in their own little bubble ever since the dance started.

Their shy exteriors melted away leaving behind something much warmer and intimate. Anyone with eyes can see that they were clearly smitten with each other. Which were plenty watching them on occasion.

Red eyes darted around the Great Hall, finding the person he was looking for. He gave the Headmaster a subtle nod which he returned with a knowing smile. Talbott stepped back from Judith to clear his throat with a smile.

“All this dancing is making me thirsty, I think I’m gonna get a refreshment,” he said. Judith smiled at him, making his heart stutter in a lovestruck sigh.

“A refreshment sounds great, actually! I’ll go with you-”

“N-no need! I-I’ll get one for you! Just... stay right there,” Talbott stuttered before taking off. Judith’s brows furrowed in confused as she watch Talbott disappear in the darkness.

Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning, she saw the cheery smile of David.

“Cheers, Little Tigress! I see that I was right about you enjoying yourself,” he said with a grin. Judith glared and punched his arm.

“Cheeky bastard,” she growled. David laughed good naturedly while rubbing his arm.

“I’m surprised you’re not with Synde. Seeing how eager you were to get here and be with her,” she retorted. David shrugged.

“Mer said she going to get refreshments for the both of us. She actually suggest I go find you to see how your night was so far,” David replied. Gold eyes narrow out of suspicion.

“That’s a little odd. Talbott just let to do the same thing...”

“Was it? I found it very typical of Miss Synde and Mr. Winger,” a third voice said. David and Judith turned to see the amused face of their Headmaster.

The pair chatted with Professor Dumbledore for a while when Judith noticed something was amiss.

“It’s bit awhile since Merula and Talbott went to get refreshments. Surely it can’t take that long,” Judith pondered out loud. Dumbledore smiled.

“Clever eye, Miss Harris. That’s because they’re no longer here and they personally asked me to distract you,” he chuckled. David and Judith glanced at each other before looking back up at Dumbledore.

“Professor,” David asked warily. Dumbledore chuckled.

“Mr. Willows, you can head to the library. Miss Harris... while Mr. Winger wasn’t explicit with the location for you to go to, he did say ‘Remember our first date’ as a clue. Enjoy the rest of your storybook fairytale night, you two. You deserve it,” Professor Dumbledore informed the pair with a knowing smile.

Judith blushed walking out of the Great Hall with David. The two said their goodbyes as Judith made her way outside. Transforming into her Black Sparrowhawk, she couldn’t help but wonder what Talbott had planned at the Black Lake...

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

Judith landed on the shore and transformed back, only to be surprised to find who was waiting for her.

“Lily,” she asked as the little fairy flew around her, buzzing out of excitement.

What was her little friend doing all the way out here?

The magical creature took ahold of her hand, tugging her to the Boat house.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming. Just slow down, I am wearing heels after all,” she laughed gently. Judith followed the excited fairy inside only to freeze at the door way.

Standing inside was Talbott. The place looked to have been cleaned out. Numerous fairies including her own lit up the Boathouse in a soft glow. Rose petals scattered the floor, along with some candles. A large heart made up of different colored roses was hung up behind the Ravenclaw wizard. A small table with some chairs of some of the food and drinks form the Ball sat in a corner. Somewhere in the background, there was soft music playing as well.

Talbott walked up to the stunned Hufflepuff witch and took her hand.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, little bird,” he spoke softly. Judith shook her head out of disbelief.

“W-what is all this, Talbott,” she asked. The young man bit his lip.

“I-I... I may have been planning this while I was at the Owlery... I wanted to surprise you. While I did originally plan to do this in the Library, someone else had the same idea... So I’d figured the Black Lake was the next best thing. I did have some help putting this together,” Talbott admitted.

Lily buzzed, as if she was giggling at the two. Judith rose a brow at her Fairy’s cheeky behavior before chuckling.

“I just thought that... after everything you’ve done for Hogwarts, for me, you deserved a storybook romance,” Talbott said. Judith rescanned the room before offering a smile.

“I had no idea that you could be such a romantic, Talbott. But clearly you are.” Talbott blushed, scratching the back of his neck.

“I guess all that poetry paid off...”

--------

The pair sat and ate, chatting in between. Talbott giving going as far to feed Judith a bit of a cupcake. He ended blushing when he felt her lips touch his fingers tips as she let out a pleased moan.

Currently they were slow dancing in the middle of the room, listening to the music softly playing in the background.

“This is really amazing, Talbott,” Judith spoke up, daring to look up at red eyes that reminded her of rubies.

“You’re the amazing one, Judith. I was simply following my heart,” Talbott replied, squeezing her closer. That foreign yet familiar scent that clung onto the Hufflepuff filled his nose.

“O-Oh stop it. I am not,” Judith insisted with a nervous laugh. Having Talbott so close to her was causing her heart to beat faster than normal. Talbott stopped dancing in favor of holding her hands. His gaze was unwavering.

“I mean it, little bird. You made this Valentine’s Day perfect for everyone, even Flich and Pince... And especially for me,” Talbott confessed. Pearly whites flashed at him.

“All I wanted was a magical Valentine’s Day with my date,” Judith started, glancing down for a quick moment to gather herself before looking back up at Talbott through her lashes.

“...And... And I’m so happy that date is you...” And she was. Truly.

Talbott was the picture perfect gentleman. And the fact he went through great lengths to make Valentine’s Day memorable for her reminded her of happier times from her childhood. Except now it was with someone who likes her for her.

She hasn’t felt this special in years...

Talbott urged his heart to calm down as he reached for his wand.

“I feel the same way, Judith. And I... made something for you...” Stepping back, Talbott casted a spell, causing a book to appear. Judith blinked out of surprise at the book that hovered between them. Carefully reaching for it, she opened it to a random page somewhere in the beginning.

“...The loner poet listened to the Howler professed the words he wasn’t aware that lived in his heart. Speaking of a deep longing for a girl with otherworldly pale gold eyes. To never leave him because when he looks into her unique irises, he can see future. A future where he would wake up to them every morning. A future where he would look at child with the same eyes as her. A future that would lead to forever together.

He felt his heart stall in his chest, itching to cast a spell to light the Howler ablaze to prevent its words being heard by unwanted ears. It was then he smelled her before he heard her.

A hint of sea breeze that made him feel like he was standing so close the never-ending ocean. Chocolate that reminded him of her skin tone. A variety of fainter sweet scents, most he couldn’t name but the one he could pick out was honey.

Her melodious low voice sung to his eardrums:

“Hey, what did your Valentine Howler say?” He swiftly turned to find pale gold eyes curiously looking up at him. He could feel his heart speed up when he connected the dots.

It was her.

She was the one his heart longed for.

Everything that has transpired that day and this revelation became too much for the loner poet to take. He was quick to deny that his Howler hasn’t said anything, using the opportunity their teacher has created to leave the classroom.

He needed time. Time to think of what to do next...”

Judith was so engrossed in words written on the page that she didn’t realize that Talbott was now standing behind her.

“It’s not finished, more so of a... work in progress for an ongoing story...” Judith jumped a little when she felt his breath ghost over her visible ear.

“This is about you,” she whispered, releasing the book to float again. She turned to find Talbott staring down at her with half lid eyes.

“It’s about you and me, little bird,” he whispered, cupping one of her cheeks. Judith closed her eyes, leaning into his warm touch.

There was a shift in the air and she nervous but secretly excited to where this could lead...

Talbott withdrew for a moment forcing Judith to open her eyes again. She notice a heart shaped key necklace in his hand.

“What’s that,” she asked quietly.

“This is the key that unlocks the book. I made it be this way so you can wear it like a necklace. So our story would always be with you,” Talbott answered, carefully placing the it around her neck. A full body shiver raked Judith’s body when she felt the tips of his finger ghost over the sensitive skin.

“I... I never had someone put this much effort for me. To bare your feelings like this, Talbott... I... I don’t know what to say,” Judith confessed quietly. She could barely hear her own voice over the roar of blood rushing to her face combined with the sound of her heartbeat pounding against her eardrums.

Talbott caressed her cheek again.

“I don’t expect an answer from you right away little bird. I’m more than happy to do this for you. You’re the only one who deserves to see this side of me...” Talbott leaned closer aiming to place a kiss on her cheek. Much like he did last year.

What Judith did next surprised both of them.

Turning her head ever so slightly, she caught Talbott’s lips with her own. This stunned the pair, both remaining motionlessly for a few moments. Just as the Ravenclaw wizard was about to pull back, Judith held him there by his tie, pressing against him. Her painted lips moved against his unresponsive ones slowly, testing the waters and his resolve.

After a moment of deliberation, Talbott gave in and returned the unexpected kiss. With one hand cupping her face, its twin finding refuge on her lower back, pushing her closer still. Judith released his tie in favor of wrapping her arms around his neck, melting in his embrace. Both of them were placed under a cloudy haze as their lips continued to move against one another.

The pair broke apart for air, foreheads resting against one another. Talbott silently licked his lips, picking up the taste of vanilla.

‘She tastes just as sweet as she looks. Good Gods help me...’ came the helpless thought as he found himself at the end of Judith’s sultry stare.

‘What are you doing to me, Talbott? Why do I feel this way towards you...’

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Talbott,” Judith whispered, placing a soft kiss against the corner of his lips. Talbott shivered at the sound of her voice, which has dipped down an octave. Her accent came out, loud and clear. His hands, which has migrated to her waist, squeezed down on the curve for a few seconds.

He could listen to her speak to him like this for hours...

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Judith... Thank you for being my valentine...” Judith let out soft chuckle, pulling him in for another kiss.

In the midst of this an involuntary thought passed through her mind. One which would shatter the Hufflepuff witch later on.

‘I love you, Talbott...’

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

Some time has passed since the Valentine’s Day Ball. Judith more or less went back to her life as per usual.

With occasional outing with Talbott when classes and working for Rakepick became too much for her.

It was late at night and she was at the shore of the Black Lake, practicing her spellwork. She always wanted to remain sharp on her skills and it was a way for her to prepare for the upcoming O.W.L.S., which was approaching fast.

She decided to practice the Patronus Charm, seeing how she hasn’t casted it in awhile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

What came out of the tip of her wand shocked her.

Instead of her usual Siberian Tiger was a-

“G-Golden E-Eagle?!” Her eyes watched as the avian predator flew above her before disappearing.

She shocked her head, not believing what she just saw.

Over and over again, she casted the spell, waiting to see her beloved tiger. Only to watch the animal that came out soar its wings above her.

Her legs gave out from beneath her.

“No, no, no! How can this be happening?! Patronuses don’t change,” she panicked. A vague memory came resurfaced in her mind.

“Though I have heard of Patronuses changing forms after falling in love...” Judith’s eyes widen.

That voice belonged to Tonks when they were dealing with the Dementor threat from last year.

Another memory surfaced, however, much older...

“Gift this ring to the one your heart desires above all others. It will only fit and accept that one person, anyone else, it’ll reject and return to you...” Tears ran down her cheeks. When she realized what memory it was.

“Gran-Gran...” came the broken whisper. Her grandmother gifted her a magical blue and silver ring before she died. The same ring she gave to Talbott just a year prior. She didn’t remember her dear grandmother’s words when she gave it to him.

Now that she thought about it, the ring never returned to her. And it was on Talbott’s left ring finger the night of the Ball.

Even as she kissed him, those three words that haunted her since childhood has crossed her flowery dazed mind.

She couldn’t do anything but face the truth. To speak the words that haunted her in form of a Boggart from third year.

“I love Talbott Winger...”

And she was secretly terrified.

Because she knew if he were to confess the same, she was done for.

Her heart would be his.

And risk breaking if he were to ever leave...

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heyitssmiller · 4 years

Text

Chop It Like It’s Hot

Chapter 6: I’ve Got a Bad Queso Loving You

Pining. Food that may or may not be a disaster. The end of an era.

Also people actually wanted to be tagged for updates?? That makes my heart so happy <3

Tag List: @heyoitslysso @unknown-and-invisible

Chop It Like It’s Hot Masterlist

@lumosinlove

It was weird, walking into the studio by himself for the first time. Finn kept expecting Logan to be right by his side like always and it hurt a little every time Finn remembered. He walked into the kitchens where he was greeted by a sunny smile and kind eyes and dimples.

He still missed Logan, but it was hard to mope with Leo Knut around.

“Hey,” Leo greeted, motioning for Finn to join him at the station. “Welcome to the final four.”

“Thanks. It feels weird here.”

Leo hummed. “Quiet, right?”

“Definitely less hectic.” Finn agreed, leaning his hip against the counter. “So what are we cooking today?”

“Well, why don’t you tell me? We’re cooking for someone special to you. I’m assuming that’s Logan, right?” At Finn’s nod a strange, unreadable expression flashed across Leo’s face before he continued. “Okay, so what types of food do you think of when you think of him?”

Finn thought about it, then smiled. “Our first date – after years and years of being friends and crushing on each other but refusing to do anything about it – was at a Mexican restaurant. We were on a roadie and went to go get dinner together and I was so frustrated at this point that I kind of just blurted, ‘Is this a date?’” Finn laughed a little at the memory. “And Lo, he just stared at me with those big green eyes of his for a moment and said, ‘I sure hope so.’ And that was it. No more drama, no more fuss. Just those two sentences – that was all we needed.”

The look from earlier was back on Leo’s face. Finn still didn’t know what it meant.

“I think we can definitely work with that.” He said finally. “How about we elevate a Mexican dish? Something to be meaningful but to also showcase your cooking? I've got a few recipes in mind. What about grilled citrus-marinated chicken?”

Finn wrinkled his nose and shook his head.

“Alright. Pulled pork tamales with corn salsa? Polenta stacks? Chipotle Mahi Mahi burrito bowl?”

“Oh!” Finn said excitedly. “I like that one. Logan calls me Fish sometimes.”

Leo laughed. “Why?”

“Nicknames are kind of a thing in hockey. It’s considered weird if you don’t have one. I’m Harzy, Harz, Fish, and probably a few more that I’m forgetting.”

“And Logan?”

“He’s Tremz or Tremzy, usually.” He looked over at the blond, propping his chin in his hand and smiling. “You want a nickname?”

“Oh, god. With a last name like Knut, I’m sure you’ll have plenty to go off of.” He laughed, turning to head towards the pantry. Finn followed after him like the love-struck puppy he was.

“Nut. Nutty. Peanut. Peanut butter. Nutter Butter. Honey bunches of nut – “

“How have you already come up with so many?” Leo stretched to grab a bowl off the top shelf, his t-shirt shifting up to reveal pale skin Finn desperately wanted to reach out and touch.

“I’m a professional hockey player.”

“Fair enough. Can you head to the spices and grab smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder?”

Finn grabbed the ingredients and met Leo back at the station. “Ready to get started? You’ll get the printed recipe and you can take as many notes as you want now and use them tonight.”

Finn clicked his pen in response, earning another smile. “Let’s do this.”

“So we’re going to combine olive oil, chipotle chiles, garlic, smoked paprika, chili powder, cumin, salt, pepper and onion powder into a bowl and whisk it really good. Then you can add the mahi mahi and toss it in there. Next we’re going to place it in the fridge while we start the rice.” Leo covered the bowl and set it in the fridge before reaching for a pot and turning the stove on.

“Add coconut milk and some coconut water to a pot and bring it to a low boil before adding rice, salt, unsweetened coconut and coconut oil. Stir to combine, then place the lid on the pot and turn the heat down to the lowest setting possible. Following so far?”

Finn nodded, definitely feeling a little overwhelmed.

Leo gave him a reassuring smile. “You got this. Next, let the rice to cook for ten minutes then turn the heat off completely. Let the rice sit on the stove, covered for another 20 minutes, then remove the lid and fluff the rice with a fork. Add the cilantro and lime juice – “

“No cilantro.”

Leo looked up from his pot. “What?”

“No cilantro.” Finn repeated. “Lo doesn’t like cilantro.”

“Got it. No cilantro. I think we’ve got enough seasoning without it.” Leo grabbed another bowl and pushed some ingredients towards him on the counter.

“Now we’re going to make the salsa. Add the diced mango, chopped strawberries, jalapeño, lime juice, pinch of cayenne and a pinch of salt to a bowl. Toss it, cover it, and keep it in the fridge until ready to serve. Now we’re going to cook that fish.” Leo grabbed the fish out of the fridge and sent him a sly look. “Hopefully this doesn’t count as cannibalism.”

Finn laughed loudly. “Oh man, wait until Logan hears that.”

Leo fiddled with the settings on the grill, which made Finn a little nervous. As seen in the build your own burger competition, he wasn’t the best with grills. He’d scared away all the ducks with how loud he screamed when he turned the grill on too high and flames erupted from it.

“You’re going to want a medium heat to cook this fish. Once the grill is nice and hot, add the mahi mahi, skin side facing up. Cook these for about 4-5 minutes and then flip them and cook until they’re crisp and mostly cooked through. This is super important: remove the skin. We’re going to be cutting this fish into chunks and having pieces of fish skin in there would be really gross.

“Last thing is to plate these. All you’re going to do is divide the rice among your tortilla bowls and add the lettuce, black beans, and corn. Divide up the fish and then top each bowl with salsa, queso, and a dollop of sour cream. And you’re done!” Leo looked over at Finn, who was still writing notes. “Not so bad, right?”

Finn gave him a blank stare, then ran a hand through his hair nervously. “Go over it again one more time?”

“Sure.” Leo pushed one of the plates over to Finn. “Want to try some first?”

“Fuck yes.”

***

Logan stood in the studio hallway yet again, waiting with the rest of the families the final four contestants were cooking for tonight. It was going to be weird, being on the opposite side of the judging table. But at least he wasn’t cooking.

They finally got the cue to enter the kitchen and his eyes immediately found Finn, who was grinning madly and running right at him – whether he was allowed to or not. Logan laughed as Finn collided with him, hugging him close. “You just saw me this morning.”

“Yeah, but I missed you.”

Logan melted a little at that and kissed him softly on the cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

Finn whined, shooting a longing look over at Leo. “Lo, you would not believe – “

“Please head back to your stations, recruits!” Dorcas called.

“Gotta go.” Finn sighed, taking a step back. Logan gave his hand a squeeze.

“You’ve got this.”

“Recruits, tonight you’ll be creating dishes for your loved ones. And your team leaders, of course. You can use any notes you’ve taken. You have an hour to complete this task and your time starts… now!”

Logan took his seat at the judges table (weird) and watched as Finn dashed off to the pantry. He made small talk with the other family members as time began to tick down much slower than he remembered from his time on the show. He turned his head when Leo sat down next to him and smiled almost nervously.

“I hope you’re not too mad at me for last week.”

“Nah,” Logan said with a shrug, doing everything he could think of to slow his heartrate down. “I deserved it. I served you guys raw pizza dough.”

“Only because I suggested you start over.”

Logan laughed incredulously. “Because my pizza wasn’t a pizza! Seriously, don’t worry about it.” He looked over at Finn, who was shying away from the grill as he threw the fish on it. “I’m glad he made it instead of me. He’s been so excited to be on this show.”

“He’s really improved a lot. You both did.”

“I’m still not sure I trust either of us in the kitchen.”

“Baby steps.” Leo said with a smile. “You’re more capable than you think.”

He glanced at the clock and let his voice carry to the contestants. “One minute left, recruits!”

Finn glanced up from his plating, cursed, and started working faster.

“Five, four, three, two, one, time’s up! Stop what you’re doing and step away from your plates!”

“I can see why you like this so much.” Logan said, eyes still on Finn as he looked down at his plates critically. “You get to sit here, no stress, and eat people’s food. This is the dream.”

“Not on this show. You should’ve tried some of the earlier dishes this season. I got food poisoning twice.”

“You did what?”

“It might’ve been three times if I’d eaten that chicken you tried to serve in the first challenge.” Leo teased.

“Why isn’t giving a chef food poisoning an immediate elimination?”

“Because then we’d have very few recruits left, and that would be a very short season.”

Finn set down his plates, smiling nervously. Logan looked down and smiled softly. “Mexican food.”

“No cilantro, just how you like it.”

God, Logan didn’t deserve him.

“Let’s see how this tastes.” Leo said, looking down at his plate. “The presentation is really nice.”

They both took bites of their food. The fish was dry, but Logan thought the rest of it was really good.

“It’s under-seasoned a little bit,” Leo commented. “And the fish is a little dry, but your salsa is perfect and the ratios of everything else in the bowl is very nice.”

Logan grinned up at Finn. “I definitely wouldn’t be opposed to you bringing this recipe home.”

“We need move on to the next contestant. Nice job, Finn.”

Finn beamed and grabbed his plates back.

***

“And the chef who will be leaving us tonight is…” Logan held Finn’s hand and waited for Leo to finish.

“Finn. I’m sorry, your time as a recruit is over. Please turn in your apron.”

Finn sighed, squeezed Logan’s hand, and stepped forward.

“It was really close, but in the end the under-seasoned and overcooked fish did you in.” Leo said, looking apologetic. “I’ve really enjoyed having you on the show. You’ve been a joy to teach.”

“Thanks for having me.” Finn said, trying to be cheerful as he handed over his apron. “I had a blast.”

After the cameras stopped rolling, Logan and Finn made sure to find Leo before they left. He was scrubbing down the grill and looked up when he noticed them. “So this is goodbye, huh?”

“Looks like it.” Logan replied, unabashedly staring and trying to memorize everything he could. Was it weird to miss someone when you hadn’t even said goodbye yet? When they were standing right in front of you?

Finn piped up, “If you’re ever in Gryffindor, look us up. We’d love to see you.”

“Same for when you come to New York for games.” Leo smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Here,” Finn grabbed his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number? We can send you our team schedule when we get it.”

Finn, you’re a genius.

“That would be great! I, uh, I really liked having y’all on the show. It’d be nice to see each other again.” His cheeks were red again, and Logan had to bite back a whine. He wanted to kiss those red spots so badly.

But this definitely wasn’t the time. There were people everywhere, two of them were probably leaving in the morning, and they didn’t know when they’d see him again. Or if he even liked them back.

Fuck.

Both Logan and Finn had forgotten just how awful the guessing game really was.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #coast to coast #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #o'knutzy #chop it like it's hot

190 notes · View notes

sitcomified · 3 years

Text

fighting dragons with you

summary: amy gets injured on a case and jake pays her a visit. (pre-canon) word count: 3.5k rating: teen?

read below or on AO3

content warning for minor depictions of violence and general discussions of assault

Amy Santiago wrote her life plan when she was sixteen years old, and revisits it each month like clockwork. She figured out from a young age that if she could clearly define a set of rules to follow to a tee, then she would never fall off course. Most nights, the three inch purple binder lives on her bedside table, where after long days of life-threatening work, she can put everything into perspective. Most days, the plan works out great for her. But she’s not invincible. She still scrapes gum off her brand new shoes and wrestles with her too warm pillow.

It’s not that she can’t deal with unpredictable situations. If anything, being almost comically prepared for every possible situation has made the challenge of taking on these changes that much more thrilling. She knows she excels at tasks that demand quick thinking and efficient problem solving. Hell, that’s why she became a cop.

Amy clocked into work two minutes late that morning. She stared at her watch, already mentally preparing how she would make it up to her squad (even though a quick glance around the bullpen would let her know that she was still the first officer there for her shift.)

By the time her partner showed up nearly thirty minutes late—an occurrence so routine she’d be surprised if anyone even noticed—Amy was already wrapping up her first report of the day. As she reached across her desk for the folder containing crime scene evidence, her partner finally acknowledged her.

“Nice spiderman band-aid,” Jake greeted her, gesturing to her right hand. She sighed deeply. The band-aid in question is nursing a particularly nasty paper cut from when she tried to intercept one of her partner's paper airplanes (probably made from some actually important file) the previous day. Amy rinsed the cut under the precinct kitchenette’s ice-cold water, swearing she’d be fine for the rest of the day, but her finger still stung when she got home and discovered that her only first aid supplies were from the last time her nephews visited.

“Hello Detective Peralta,” Amy replied, trying to salvage any semblance of workplace professionalism. Honestly, she wasn’t even sure if her partner’s retort warranted a response.

“Aw, is that your pet name for me?” he joked, clearly not wanting to drop their banter, “I’m going to call you sugar...nose.” He extended a finger and lightly tapped her on the nose, to emphasize the point.

Amy flinched in response. “Sugarnose?” she repeated incredulously.

“Yeah I didn’t want it to be too sexual, and then I panicked,” Jake explained. Amy half expected him to follow it up with one of the “title of your sex tape” jokes that he was so prone to making, but thankfully, today she would be spared.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Peralta. At his best, he could be just as sharp a detective as she was. The problem was, that was rarely ever his goal. He showed open disrespect for any authority that would dare get in his way, almost as if it were a game to him. On the field, he spent more time trying to portray himself as an action movie star than trying to catch criminals, and she’d be surprised if he actually followed any of the NYPD’s safety guidelines.

Her day went on as it usually did. Finishing up reports, interviewing witnesses, investigating a crime scene—fortunately on her own. Amy had no idea why Captain McGintley was so adamant about partnering her and Peralta. Their approaches to every aspect of police work seemed fundamentally incompatible. Her captain probably just needed someone responsible to babysit New York’s Least Mature Detective (a title he had bestowed upon himself) in the field. It was a horribly sexist and insulting implication that gave Amy flashbacks to a whole childhood’s worth of classroom seating charts and group projects, where she was put in the exact same position.

That afternoon, just as she was getting into the rhythm of responding to the perpetual flood of emails in her inbox, Peralta tore her away from her work to go on a stakeout for a case they were working on, insisting that the new lead was “actually legit this time.”

When Amy left the precinct she was surprised to see that her partner decided not to “ball out” and instead opted for a sensible SUV for their stake out. “Nice ride, Peralta.”

“Thanks, I borrowed it from some guy Diaz is testifying against,” he said smugly. Amy raised her eyebrows in return. Of course there would be a catch. “Kidding,” he reassured her. “It’s the precinct’s, I’m surprised you don’t like have the license plates memorized by now.”

Amy wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or insulted by that. She had only been there a couple months, surely that wasn’t an expectation; if it was, it was never conveyed to her in the brief amount of training she received. Regardless, she responded, “very funny, but I’m still driving.”

Jake soured with mock offense, “Seriously, Santiago? You think that my driving is more dangerous than that drug ring you busted last month?”

“I’m a detective. I know that I might die on the force. What I’m absolutely not okay with is dying because some idiot would rather play air guitar than follow basic road safety concepts,” Amy said, crossing her arms. On their last stakeout, they almost lost their perp during his particularly enthusiastic rendition of Lose Yourself.

“Too-shee,” he responded, with a smirk on his lips. He was messing with her. Surely, he wasn’t actually that dumb.

Amy corrected him, “you know it’s pronounced touché.”

“Ok nerd,” he replied, and tossed her the car keys. “But I get to stay on AUX.”

She was a bit taken aback by how quickly he agreed to cooperate with her. “You’ve gotta stay focused,” she added, as she climbed into the car. There was a foul smell that she couldn’t quite place. All the more reason to rush this.

“Of course I am a professional, Santiago,” he said from the passenger seat. He reached into his bag and pulled out a giant pack of Cheetos. “Want one?” he offered. She shook her head in disgust.

“Alright, so the informant, Dragos, said the operation is based out of a pharmacy on Atlantic, I assume that’s where we’re going?” Amy asked, as she started the car.

“Toit, and also holy shit is that his real name?” Jake questioned, eyes wide. “That’s badass.”

Amy frowned. “Did you even read the case file?”

“I skimmed it. Your sentences are all so long!” he complained.

“I’m sorry that I’m thorough and I actually follow procedure. Maybe you should take a cue from me, I mean that’s gotta be why McGintley assigned us to this case,” she said.

Jake laughed at her. “I have the most arrests in the precinct,” he bragged. Amy wanted to bring up that arrests weren’t actually a good indication of community safety, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to articulate the problem to him once more.

“That’s just because you make Boyle do all your paperwork,” she retaliated. “If you did everything you were supposed to, you know that I’d be ahead of you.”

Jake stopped fiddling with the car’s radio, and turned to face Amy. “First of all, Boyle loves paperwork. And for the record, I actually asked the Captain to put us together on this case.”

“Exactly, because you knew I would do all the work,” Amy said, smugly.

“No! It’s ‘cause I knew it was a tough one, and you’re obviously super smart.” Amy blushed a little. She assumed that Jake thought as little of her as she did of him. “Plus, I heard you talking to Diaz about how you weren’t getting any good cases,” he continued. She’s surprised, not at what he noticed, but the fact that he actually cared enough to try and fix her problems. It was true that McGintley was underutilizing her—the other day he had her spend an hour finding an anniversary present for his wife.

“Well, thanks,” Amy responded with an awkward smile. “I didn’t think you cared.”

“‘Course, you’re part of the 99 now. Anything for the squad.” he said. Right, Jake was just doing what any good cop would do for their team. He didn’t actually care about her, at least not enough to not get cheeto crumbs on the seat that she’d have to clean up.

Jake points at the car’s speaker system at the next red light. “Hey, do you know how this works?”

“Do you seriously not know?” she teased. It was a strikingly simple set up.

“Obviously not, or else we’d be listening to my sick beats right now.” Jake said. “My car still uses cassettes exclusively and I fear my mixtapes would cause this lame car to spontaneously combust.”

Amy sighed. “Here, give me your phone,” she told him, and plugged in the audio cable. Immediately music started blaring out of the speakers. She recognizes the opening chords instantly and starts laughing. “Is this what you listen to?” she asked.

Jake started frantically pushing buttons on the dashboard, only making the music louder by accident. “No. I swear I don’t know how this got on here.” Amy grinned. It was so rare that she had the upper hand in embarrassing him and she was already thinking of how to capitalize on it.

“Keep it on,” she said, guiding his hands away from the speaker system before he had the chance to break something. “I like this song.” He leaned back in his seat and helped himself to another handful of Cheetos. Amy returned her focus to navigating the complex puzzle of Brooklyn traffic.

Over the revving motors and honking of angry drivers, she heard him begin to sing along. It wasn’t obnoxiously loud and it didn’t feature impromptu parody lyrics. His voice was surprisingly soft, and she wondered if he was even conscious of his singing. She was perplexed by how he managed to focus on nothing and everything at the same time. How he managed to let loose in the most tense situations. Amy couldn’t even bring herself to have that kind of fun when she specifically scheduled it in her planner.

What the hell, they were still a fifteen minute drive from the pharmacy. She joined in with the chorus. He looked at her with a confused, yet happy, expression, and ramped up his volume, and even incorporated his own dance moves. “Damn, Santiago, didn’t know you had it in you,” he said, after they finished the chorus on a tone-deaf harmony.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Peralta,” she replied, raising her eyebrows with feigned confidence.

Jake chuckled and opened his mouth; she assumed to argue, but instead he just continued the second verse. She didn’t know the rest of the lyrics, and she certainly couldn’t decipher them from the dramatic voices he was adding into it.

“Hey isn’t that our guy,” he interrupted, pointing to a man who was standing by the trash cans on the corner, despite his right of way. Amy paused and took a closer look. Surely enough, their perp, Andrei Volkov, was standing there, waiting for the deal they had been told would occur miles away.

“Oh my god,” Amy said, turning to park their car just out of eyesight.

“Luckily he didn’t seem interested enough in the two adult Taylor Swift fans, to notice we’re a police vehicle.” Jake replied. He leaned towards the trunk window to sneak a better view of their target.

“Do you want to call for backup?” Amy asked. “How many guys are there?”

“Looks like about three, and it seems pretty exposed for back up unless they have access to one of the houses,” Jake said, propping himself back in the seat. “I think we should be good.”

Amy paused for a second. Her instinct was always to air on the side of caution, but Jake had proven himself to be more reasonable than she assumed. “Okay, I trust you,” she said.

“Take my lead,” he instructed, before she could argue, and secured his vest as he left the car. Amy followed him out hesitantly, one hand hovering protectively over her radio. They crossed the street while Volkov’s back was turned. As soon as they made eye contact, Jake whipped out his gun, and cornered him against the lamp post. “NYPD, you’re under arrest.” Amy instinctually dove behind the trash can. Through the grated metal she could see both of Volkov’s men pull their guns at Jake from behind his back. She can’t quite recognize exactly which members of the operation they are. He held one hand on Volkov while he turned to face the others. They kept their guns raised in his direction.

“Here’s the deal, come back to my precinct, and I won’t shoot. I’m all alone out here.” Jake kicks the trashcan Amy is ducked behind. Then twice, to get her attention. And again. The Funky Cold Medina, she realized. Amy felt her heart pounding all the way in her fingers and toes.

“What’s the matter with your leg, pig,” one of the men scoffed. She recognized the voice. Apparently Dragos was more involved in the operation than he led on, and had intentionally given her the wrong address. Amy reached for her gun and jumped up, turning to cover Jake.

“Hey, you’re the lady with the thank you notes,” Dragos said, as he lowered his weapon, “almost made me feel bad for lying to you.”

Amy fixed her eyes in his direction, “yeah well, thanks for nothing.”

“That was a pretty weak comeback, Santiago,” Jake muttered from her side. She shot him a nasty look.

“Your partner’s right,” Volkov added, still struggling against the lamppost.

“Nice try but you’re still arrested,” Jake said, as he reached for his handcuffs and began reciting the Miranda Rights. Amy stared down the other two men in the meantime, instructing them to drop any weapons they’re carrying. They obeyed and placed their guns at her feet. Just as they began to stand up, Dragos punched Amy in the face, his ring leaving a deep gash on her cheek. The metallic taste of blood floods her mouth. Her vision was blurred as tears welled up in her eyes, causing searing pain in the open wound.

Dragos started to bolt but Jake managed to trip him and keep him pinned to the ground. He struggled to handle both perps, however, and Amy watched as the third man ran away. She tried to chase after him, but she was too shocked to make it any farther. “Dragos, you’re coming with me,” Jake said, locking the handcuffs in place. “Amy, I’m calling you an ambulance.”

She was too dishevelled to protest.

That night, Amy’s brother drove her home from the hospital where she received seven stitches. Half her face was still numb from the anesthesia. Still, the second she got her phone back, she sent a text to her partner: “LMK if you need help processing.”

Half an hour later she heard her apartment buzzer go off. She paused her episode of Jeopardy, kicked on her fluffy slippers, and answered it.

“Delivery for Lady Amy Santiago,” Jake said, in a terribly butchered British accent through the phone.

“Come up,” she replied, stifling a laugh. The meds had worn her down enough that she could fully embrace his immature humor.

Three minutes later Jake announced himself with a knock on her door. “Alright, so I got you this. Hope you like shitty diner food because that’s all that’s open right now,” he held up two take out bags. Through the semi-opaque plastic she noticed two liters of the horrible orange soda he spilled on her desk once and still couldn’t get the stain out from.

“Yeah that’s fine,” she said, gesturing for him to come take a seat. She braced herself to be tormented for her decor. Suddenly she realized Jake came all the way to her house for her. He didn’t have to be here. Why was he here? “Thanks, by the way. You didn’t have to do any of this.”

He took a seat on her couch and plopped the bags on her coffee table. She never ate there, it was reserved for drinks, at most, but she didn’t correct him. Especially when he was doing her a favor “I know. I wanted to though. I also finished processing Dragos and Volkov, all by myself,” he said.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Amy asked flatly. She peered into the bag and examined the feast he brought: two cheeseburgers, a plate of chicken tenders, one hamburger, a salad, about three orders of fries, and of course the two orange sodas. For someone who was proudly in debt, he sure spent a lot on this meal.

“Cause it’s my fault you’re like this,” he said. Amy wanted to protest, he made a bad call re-backup, but she could have gotten injured either way. “Also you’re so hopped up on painkillers there’s no way you’ll remember this,” he added, cracking a smile. He really wasn’t capable of a genuine moment.

Amy rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not that much stronger than Advill, and memory loss isn’t a side effect,”

“Hmm,” he frowned, “we’ll see about that tomorrow.”

Amy froze. “I hope you’re not here to try anything,” she said, half joking. Jake was a jerk, but she never thought he would stoop that low. Even still, she couldn’t let her guard down that much.

“Oh, God no, absolutely not. I would never take advantage of you—of anyone—like that. Is that what you thought?” Jake stammered, scooching himself away from her on the couch. He looked as if he had seen a ghost or something, and his messy hair only added to the effect.

“I dunno,” Amy said, “I guess I can’t be too trusting.” She took out a container full of fries and handed him one as a peace offering.

“Right, right, men are a nightmare,” Jake agreed through a mouthful of potato. He even didn’t try to distance himself from “other men”, or go with the “but I’d never do that route”. Her chest was heavy with guilt at the thought of making such an implication.

“No, no, no, it’s fine, really. Sorry for accusing you.” Amy said.

“It’s not fine. And you shouldn’t apologize because that’s a real fear. It’s on me,” he replied. She looked at him with confusion. It was rare for guys to understand that much. “And I’m sorry for being such a dick to you these past few months,” he blurted out.

Amy couldn’t believe that the guy sitting in her apartment was the same one who decided to address her via paper airplane for a week, and only stopped when he ran out of papers on his desk. “Hey I wasn’t much better. I was so obsessed with out-doing you, I never went to you for help—” he shot her an expectant glance,“—also I’m sorry for ratting you out all the time.” He nodded, and helped himself to another fry from her container.

“Why are you so competitive?” he asked through a mouthful of potato. She noticed a bit of ketchup on his chin and reached for a napkin.

“I have seven brothers,” she provided him with the stock answer.

“I know that,” he said, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

She pauses. “My parents were always comparing us, so many siblings meant the bar for anything was set super high, I don’t know, that sort of stuff.”

“But why do you care?” he pushed. She hadn’t ever considered that before. The endless treadmill she shoved herself on was just always there. Even when she knew the goals she set were irrational she would just keep running, because the idea of falling off was so much worse.

“I guess it makes me worried, if I’m not measuring up,” she confessed. “I feel like I did something wrong.”

“You know you’re crazy, right?” he asked, smirking at her.

Amy rifled through the bottom of the takeout bag. “Did they give you any mustard packets?” she asked.

“Nah. But, as your self-appointed guardian angel, I will go to the bodega and get you some,” he said, picking up the jacket he threw on her floral carpet.

“You don’t have to do that, really,” Amy insisted.

He looked back at her as if the very notion were ridiculous. “Amy, you just got injured in the line of duty. If all you want is mustard, you can have all the mustard in the world.”

“Thanks, Jake. You’re a really good friend,” she ventured. She waited for a moment, to see how he would respond, hopefully solidifying their friendship. Maybe she was friendzoning advances she wasn’t even aware of. Maybe he was confused, and he was just doing a nice thing for a coworker.

“You too,” Jake said. However he interpreted all the implications, he didn’t let her know. “When I get back we’re watching Die-Hard!” he added as he rushed out the door. Amy smiled to herself as she heard the lock click into place.

#tropetember #b99 #brooklyn nine nine #b99 fic #brooklyn nine nine fic #jake peralta #amy santiago #tropetember day 1 #peraltiago #peraltiago fic #my fic

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whistlesanbells · 4 years

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Community Headcanons

Just a random list of headcanons I have, organized by character (feat. A lot of Britta x Annie)

Jeff

I saw someone mention that Jeff might have an ED, and given what we see with his relationship with food, and how he is willing to go as far as to hurt himself to be the best at something (in this case be the best looking) it makes a lot of sense.

A lot of people headcanon Jeff as bi but honestly I just take him as cishet. He has many many issues but I don’t think sexuality is one of them, because half his personality is his attraction to every woman that breathes lmao

Exudes top energy but really the minute someone else tops him, he gets insecure for a bit but ends up really liking it.

Britta

Raging bisexual. I feel like she’s known for a long time, but never told the group because it would just be another thing for them to poke fun of about her.

In the same vein, I believe Britta’s parents were very homophobic, and that’s why she cut ties. I think she came out to them at a younger age and it was messy. It would make sense that she would refuse to tell the group why she didn’t get along with her parents: because she wasn’t ready to come out to the group yet. Instead it gets framed as her just rebelling for no reason.

We hear almost nothing about Britta’s past, except for a few offhand comments about a dinosaur-related trauma. Britta is incredibly quick to deny talking about her past, which led me to believe that she has some kind of trauma. Personally, I believe she was r*ped in her childhood, which would explain her extra effort to comfort troy when he lied about it. It would also explain why she is so fervently for women’s rights, especially when it has to do with bodily autonomy.

Dyslexic!Britta makes so much sense to me, because her parents were likely unsupportive, so she didn’t get much help or accommodations in school at a young age. This probably led to her habit of going out of her way to do poorly in a class so it looks like she’s just not trying, so she doesn’t have to face the reality that she never developed good study habits and she would have a lot of trouble in school even if she tried. Even though she doesn’t do well in school, she’s really smart, she’s just not great at articulating her points :))

She was a tomboy in elementary school before it was considered socially acceptable, and she was bullied ruthlessly for it. In her true, “stick it to the man” fashion, she never grew out of it.

Britta is terrified of Annie finding out that she won’t do well in school even if she DOES try, because she’s afraid Annie will lose respect for her.

Annie was the only one in the group she came out to, because she trusted her to keep a secret and not to judge. Annie asks her a LOT of questions, but Britta puts up with it.

Acts like a top, is really a bottom.

She has a crush on Annie from 21st century romanticism on, but never expresses it because she doesn’t want to make Annie uncomfortable.

Troy

Gay lmao

I definitely feel like he had a crush on abed around end of season 3/ beginning of season 4, but it was unreciprocated.

Troy has an inherent sensitivity that makes him the heart of the show, but it took a while for him to feel comfortable with that. I feel like he had a lot of parental pressure to be perfectly straight and masculine, since he was raised under a strict religion.

Troy never wanted to be an athlete. I believe he wasn’t allowed to explore his interests because he demonstrated talent for sports at a young age, and that’s what he was pressured to do for the rest of his life.

Troy doesn’t always understand how Abed functions, but he is always accepting, supportive and understanding. Instead of trying to understand how his brain works, he memorized the patterns of what bothers him and what doesn’t, and uses that to help his friend in the best way he can. It’s super sweet :))

Abed

Aro/ace Abed rights!! I haven’t seen this one as much, but I really like it. I genuinely don’t think abed has much interest in relationships, which has absolutely nothing to do with being neurodivergent. I think he feels pressure from the group to date, because that’s what they think is “normal.”

I LOVE Annie and Abed’s friendship but I definitely don’t ship them. Sure, they kissed once, but she was attracted to Han Solo, not abed. Annie was attracted to dean when he was actually like Jeff too, but she DEFINITELY wasn’t attracted to dean lmao. Instead, I think they’re both really close because they’re both neurodivergent, and Annie understands him more than anyone else in the group, albeit not entirely. They also have a special handshake you can see at the end of season one :)

This isn’t a headcanon but it’s *technically* never stated in the show but Abed definitely has autism. l DO headcanon that Annie has his safe foods written down in a list because she’s the only one who knows how to cook in the apartment, and she knows it’s important to him.

Abed has all of his friends’ likes and dislikes memorized and written down, as well as their birthdays, as a result of psychoanalyzing them. He gives the best birthday gifts and never forgets.

Definitely was the ACB (creds to film theory on that one)

Shirley

I don’t have a lot of theories for Shirley, because we see a lot of her personal story in canon. However, I do believe that she wasn’t always such a devout Christian. I think she was raised with Christian ideals, but it wasn’t central to her personality until Andre cheated on her. After she went though a dark period of (likely) alcoholism, I like to think that’s when she turned to Christianity, and it gave her hope. She loves it so much because it genuinely did save her from a bad time in her life.

I think she is a big part of the reason why Troy, Abed, Britta, and Annie are afraid to come out to the group. They assume she would never see them in the same light, when truth be told, she would love them all the same. I think she would be uncomfortable at first, but either she would come to the realization or britta would convince her that it is inherently Christian to love everyone, no matter what. Her motherly instincts take precedence over her Christian ideals.

Shirley views Annie as the daughter she never had, but is very careful not to tell her for fear of hurting her feelings. She very much enjoys helping her navigate college and seeing her mature. She also loves all their girl talk since this is the aspect of parenting that she doesn’t get with three boys. In the same vein, she loved teaching Britta how to have friends who are girls, and she likes to think she played a part in raising her.

Pierce

I don’t like pierce enough to psychoanalyze him lmao

Annie (saddle up, this is gonna be long)

Lesbiannie, obviously. Annie’s romantic tendancies SCREAM compulsive heterosexuality. Annie’s relationships with men are always schoolgirl crushes, and she even admits to abed that she never really liked Jeff, she just liked the idea that he was available and willing to love her. It also makes sense that she can’t stand the idea of not being perfect in every way, including heterosexual (because she confirms that her parents are bigoted and that’s likely what she was taught). I think she would have a lot of internalized homophobia, and she would be very insecure about her sexuality, seeing how she acted during the STD fair.

I would love to think Annie also had her first ever real, I like this person for themselves and not just because they’re attainable crush on Britta. She always looked up to her because she was so cool and far less uptight than she was, but as they grew closer, she saw her in a different light. I ship them hardcore lmao.

Annie has ADHD!! I could talk for hours about this, mostly because I have very similar struggles to Annie’s canon character arc (minus the drugs lmao) and it’s mostly due to my adhd. Long story short, she was likely raised undiagnosed until she discovered it herself, which led to trying adderall and overdoing it because she was unsupervised. She was likely very insecure about her ADHD, which led her to overcompensating academically. Because she masked so much in academic settings, it’s likely she didn’t have much of a social life because that’s where her symptoms presented themselves more.

In addition being friends with abed has made her far more comfortable unmasking. If you watch her in studies in modern movement you can see her stimming (flapping her hands, rocking back and forth and swinging her arms) way more than usual. She normally fidgets by fiddling with her fingers by her waist and pulling her elbows tight to her sides in a position suspiciously similar to raptor arms. Not only is this a common and discreet way to fidget, it is easily passed off as good posture. This makes sense, as it is Annie’s trademark resting position.

Annie reads YA books and a LOT of fanfiction for fun. The group expects her to be more well versed in classic literature, but the girl just loves her some vampires. It’s where she learned a LOT of her....dnd tricks ;).

Top energy that Jeff never let her use DEFINITELY comes out with Britta.

She helps Britta study and teaches her all the study habits she had to learn, and Britta’s grades improve a little bit!!

Switched to pantsuits because of britta, I like to think she had some influence on that.

Lost interest in Jeff after Basic Sandwich

Knew that Abed was the ACB the whole time, she definitely had it figured out in that binder lmao

Anyways enjoy, just figured I’d write this down somewhere haha

#annie edison #jeff winger #britta perry #annie x britta #troy and abed #abed nadir #community #community tv #troy barnes #lesbian annie #theyre just so cute together okay #neurodivergent #annie and abed #theyre buds

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dustedmagazine · 3 years

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Listed: His Name Is Alive

While Warren Defever’s name is perhaps less recognizable than that of his band His Name Is Alive, he’s also been connected with a seemingly endless array of other projects: Princess Dragon-Mom, Elvis Hitler, ESP Beetles, Control Panel, and far more. This doesn’t get into his recording and production credits for the likes of Michael Hurley, Iggy and the Stooges, and Mdou Moctar. Forever associated with Michigan’s weirdo-underground music scene, Defever has recently been issuing a series of long-buried recordings as His Name Is Alive. In February, the Disciples label released Hope Is a Candle, the third and final volume in the "Home Recordings" trilogy exploring Defever's teenage tape experimentation as well as A Silver Thread (Home Recordings 1979 - 1990), a four-volume collection of many of Defever’s solo home recordings prior to His Name Is Alive releasing their debut album Livonia on 4AD in 1990. In his review of A Silver Thread, Tim Clarke writes “For a collection of home recordings, what’s most striking about this music is how fully realized and carefully executed it sounds, comparable at times to contemporary artists such as Grouper, Benoît Pioulard and Tim Hecker. This is not the 1980s that I remember.”

Defever gives us his “What Else Is New” list, a set of personal snapshots, memories of a life spent in music, warning the reader that “the descriptions don’t always have an obvious correlation to the video, but welcome to my nightmare brain.”

In The Line of Fire

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I started performing when I was five. My grandfather was a self-taught musician from Saskatchewan in Western Canada and he showed me and my brothers how to play banjo, guitar and fiddle. One of my earliest memories is having a full size 127 lb. accordion placed onto my lap and my grandmother voicing her disappointment when I refused to play. I did learn slide guitar from her later though. I have many, often terrible, memories of performing at square dances with his band and we would play old timey country music, folk songs, polkas and waltzes. There were also gigs at the trailer park, old folks homes and a convent. Although my grandfather believed that popular music died with Hank Williams in 1953, he still found room in his heart for Lawrence Welk and Slim Whitman.

Meet Me By The Water

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By age ten I had a tape recorder and was using it to capture the sounds of nearby lakes, thunderstorms, and my older brothers LP collection played at the wrong speeds. I recently found the cassette, Echo Lake (1983) which features waves crashing onto the beach on the Canadian side of Lake St. Clair but it was recorded right after I got an echo pedal so it’s got a heavy dose of dreamy delay. Tape loops of the next door neighbor raking leaves and shoveling the driveway would be repurposed a few years later as rhythm tracks on the first His Name Is Alive LP, Livonia (4AD, 1990). Detroit in the late 70s and early 80s had totally insane radio and one of the highlights was Met-Ezzthetics, a late night show on WDET hosted by Faruq Z. Bey who also played saxophone in Griot Galaxy. Shortly before his death he played with His Name is Alive and we had a chance to formalize our student-teacher relationship.

Search For Higher Energies

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In high school I was studying Bach Chorale harmonization and counterpoint during the day but recording and touring with the band Elvis Hitler at night. The other guys in band were older but at 16 I was a familiar sight at shitty Detroit punk clubs and Hamtramck dive bars, the nerdy teenager reading a book or doing homework sitting at the bar waiting ’til midnight or 1am for our slot to play our hellbilly hits, “It’s A Long Way From Berlin To Memphis,” and “Hot Rod To Hell.” I was still trying to make sense of the post 1953 music scene and when I met the guy with a giant afro and shiny super hero outfit complete with shiny cape I had no idea he was Rob Tyner of the MC5. We released three records before I was twenty one and played shows and toured with Devo, the Dwarves, the Dead Milkmen, Reverend Horton Heat, the Beat Farmers, Helios Creed, Babes In Toyland, the Cro-Mags, Corrosion of Conformity, the Frogs, the Gories, Pussy Galore, the Unsane and way more I can’t remember I was just a kid. It was some kind of education.

You Don’t Have To Go Home But You Can’t Stay Here

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When I signed with 4AD I thought I was a composer and they let me write my own bio, so I called His Name Is Alive the work of a “fucked up, irresponsible teenage composer.” I had only been writing music for three years. When I heard “Tom Violence” by Sonic Youth I thought for the first time in my life, “I think I could do that.” In 1988 I made a mixtape with Tracy Chapman’s Fast Car, Leadbelly and some of Big Star’s third album and I tried to arrange it like it was an album, then I made my own album in that same shape, it was called I Had Sex With God and I sent it to 4AD. Our first album contained three of the first five pieces of music I had ever written. Within a few years I was playing festivals for contemporary classical composers and new age artists who were thirty or forty years older than me. His Name Is Alive played the Musicas Visuales Festival in Mexico with Harold Budd, Paul Horn and Jorge Reyes. The mayor of the city presented me with a guitar but then dramatically walked out of the theater during our performance realizing he had made a terrible mistake. I remember the surreal moment when from across the room Harold Budd walked in and greeted me as “Mr. Defever.” He had a cold and was sniffling during his set, the audience thought he was crying. I recorded his show and when I got back home to Livonia I added my own guitar to some of his songs and then edited the tapes, looping my favorite parts and editing out the parts I didn’t like, also adding additional layers of reverb and echo. More recently I did a concert in a five hundred year old temple in Japan where the unamplified meditation music never rose above a whisper and the monk had to turn off the furnace because the heat molecules were too loud. The show was recorded and released under the name Mountain Ocean Sun and features Ian Masters and Hitoko Sakai.

Energy Dealer

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Both my parents were born in Canada, my mother in Saskatchewan, my father in Ontario. I have dual citizenship as my father was American and my mother had Canadian citizenship. I spent summers, holidays and weekends in a tiny cottage on Lake St. Clair that did not have a telephone and had curtains instead of doors separating the two rooms. Myrt Fortin who lived next door would receive phone calls for my mom, walk over to our place and yell into the window, “Hey wake up your ma, your dad’s on the phone.” My mom took a lot of naps, so she was always asleep when something important was happening. I remember always getting cut on broken glass while swimming in the lake or getting stabbed by one of the neighbors and having to go wake up my mom to take me to the hospital.

Lord I Don’t Believe You Exist

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When I was ten my parents sat me down and told me it was time that I got a summer job. There were only two businesses in town, a gas station and a hardware store so I walked up to the hardware store and asked the owner for a job and immediately fell to the ground crying. Completely fell apart. He asked me why I wanted to work in hardware. I didn’t know what to say, I was only ten but I knew not to tell the owner that his store was stupid and I didn’t think he could handle the truth. It turned out he also owned the gas station so that didn’t really work out. Later that summer, I began working for the Pickseed Corporation as corn de-tasseling season was just beginning. All the moms would drop off their kids in the church parking lot in Tecumseh, just outside of Windsor, around 4:30am where an unmarked windowless cargo van was waiting that had cinderblocks and 2'x4' boards instead of benches so they could squeeze in the maximum amount of children. There were three job requirements to work in a cornfield, the child (it was only children, no adults) needed to show up with a baseball hat, a thermos with water and a large black plastic garbage bag. I think this was before sunglasses were invented. Upon arriving at the cornfield, we were separated into pickers and checkers, younger kids each taking a row of corn (a row could extend a mile or more) and a slightly older kid would organize and manage several of the younger kids. In the morning we were instructed to poke two arm holes and a head hole into our garbage bags and put it on like a raincoat because the corn was covered in dew and kids wearing wet clothes would walk slower than dry kids. So almost every day there was a point, usually around 11am when the dew would dry and we would be roasted alive from the summer sun coming down on our ridiculous shiny black plastic outfits. We worked from sun up until sun down. I received three dollars and thirty five cents an hour. For all you city folks, corn is planted in alternating rows of types of corn so that when the top part of the plant is removed, or “de-tasseled,” it can seed or cross-pollinate easily. It’s a terrible job with a high turnover rate and every day I would hear the sound of kids in nearby rows that had given up hope, sat down in the middle of the field and crying for hours. The following year, at age 11, I was promoted from picker to checker, and was put in charge of a group of about ten sixteen year old’s.

Sleep It Off

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Mostly I like to record – His Name is Alive has over a hundred releases and I’ve done another fifty records under various names, Control Panel, Warren Michael Defever, ESP BEETLES, ESP SUMMER, Forest People, Infinity People, Jeepers Creepers, Layla al-Akhyaliyya, Mirror Dream, Princess Dragon-Mom, the Dirt Eaters, the Fishcats, the Whales, plus way more I can’t remember probably because the names were so dumb. I’ve recorded about four hundred records for other bands at my house or other studios. I’ve worked on records with Danny Kroha, Ida, Fred Thomas, Elizabeth Mitchell, Wild Belle, Michael Hurley, and when I was a teenager I helped record the first Gories album which was especially unique as I was the junior assistant engineer who helped move their equipment into the dirt floor garage next to the studio where it was decided the acoustics would be way worse. Also, I helped collage about a hundred Destroy All Monsters tapes from the 70s for a couple of their releases which led to remastering a bunch of tapes from the John Sinclair White Panther Party archives. I’ve done remixes for Thurston Moore and Yoko Ono and when Iggy and The Stooges started touring again I got a phone call from Ron Asheton seeing if I would help them record demos for their reunion album with Mike Watt on bass. They wrote the songs together while they were recording in Niagara’s basement sort of simultaneously. Iggy didn’t have a notebook with all his lyric ideas, instead he just sang about whatever happened that day – one song was about the airline losing his luggage, one about ATM machines and another was about reading in a newspaper that Ray Davies of the Kinks had been shot in New Orleans. In the end they weren’t terribly excited by my suggested song titles including “No Shirt” (you know because it’s like “No Fun” plus you know Iggy never wears a shirt) and they didn’t seem to love the mixes that I did that sounded kind of like those crappy Raw Power bootlegs.

Cost Of Living

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Two summers ago I recorded an incredible concert by Mdou Moctar live at Third Man Records in Detroit. They’re wild hypnotic Hendrix style jammers who live in the desert. The band didn’t speak much english but I think I was able to communicate to them how excited I was about their amazing fingerpicking and hot guitar solos after the show by screaming and replaying the best solos over and over again and then screaming the word fuzz and pointing at their fingers. It’s insane and having seen them a few times since then with a different drummer and the addition of a bass player, I’m convinced it’s their best album. It’s wild but it’s still not Tchin-tabaraden wedding wild.

Licked By Lions

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Jonathan Richman walks into Ethan and Gretchen's studio and asks if I can remove all the rugs, take the acoustic treatments off the walls and strike the baffles which normally separate the instruments, drums and amps, so the room will have the most echo possible, he has also invited about ten friends including Johnny Bee Badanjek the drummer from Mitch Ryder and the Detroit Wheels and Mary Cobra from the Detroit Cobras to dance, sing and play percussion in the studio while he records. He has two vocal microphones set up at either end of the room and has brought his own microphones for the drums along with his own desired placement for them. He notices a tamboura near the control room and asks if I know how to play it or if I know how to tune it. Within seconds he’s tuned it and proceeds to sing Indian classical music accompanying himself on tamboura drone for about thirty five minutes. It’s beautiful and very surprising. He asks me if I recorded it, I lie and say no. Later he asks me not to play it for anyone. We record for hours. Some songs are quite long – ten and fifteen minutes, some are medleys of oldies or soft rock hits from the seventies segueing into new songs of his. It’s a confusing session as it’s not clear when songs are starting and ending and he often plays guitar and sings nowhere near a microphone. The distance between him and the microphone seems to have some meaning, there’s some formula to when he chooses to walk away in the middle of a verse but I am unable to determine the secret code. At the end of the session three or four songs are deemed usable, edited and mixed, although, sadly, an attempt at a completely insane and unexpected fuzz guitar solo is left unreleased. (The Harold Budd piece is at the opposite end of this spectrum.)

Calling All Believers

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Shortly after Tecuciztecatl was released, I received an email from Dr. James Beacham at CERN inviting us to perform at a series of concerts that would combine experimental music with experimental science at the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva, Switzerland. He didn’t contact our booking agent, which would be how we generally receive offers for gigs, instead he sent an email to me, which would be how we generally receive crazy messages from our completely insane fans (murderous, delusional, poetic, threatening messages usually). I assumed the invitation was fake or a prank and replied that we would prefer to wait until they had successfully opened a pathway to interspatial dimensions and we’d play on the other side or that if that was unlikely to happen at a convenient time then perhaps we could set up our equipment right on the edge of a mini-black hole and perform as the Earth is being destroyed so we could release the concert film “Live At The End Of The World.” After a few messages back and forth, it was clear that he was legit and I apologized for being such a jerk. Soon I discovered poetry within the language of particle physics as well as a certain beauty in the idea that these scientists have devoted their lives to dreaming, searching and discovering basic principles that connect all things in existence. The song “Calling All Believers” refers to this devotion. “Energy Acceleration” compares the scientists to monastic life in medieval times and mystics trying to find and define the line between this world and the next and at the same time invoking the incredible amounts of energy needed to create the collisions experiments. The Patterns of Light LP was released in 2016 on London London Records and is about interpreting visions of light, trying to find universal truth with whatever tools available, it’s about the search for how everything works, why it works and how it got that way but also about being inspired on a basic level by the way a thing looks and how all your senses take in a thing. A thousand years ago Hildegard Von Bingen was writing about this same thing in letters, songs, medical texts, and had even developed her own language to use in her mystical writings, similar to Magma drummer Christian Vander using his own language for their concept albums or French black metalists Brenoritvrezorkre and Moëvöt.

The Light Inside You

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We get a lot of letters from fans, mostly weirdos though. I think it started when we released Song of Schizophrenia, that sort of connected us to a certain demographic I suspect. Here’s a recent typical message we received. “Growing up in Panama City, Mouth By Mouth and Livonia were like passages to other realms. I drank a ton of cough syrup at the time but those albums helped make life more livable. I was about to go to art school for sculpture and graphic design and the textures I heard on those records had actual shapes to them. Most music I knew at that time was flat or linear. I got them on cassette via mail-order from an ad placed in a bmx magazine. Mouth By Mouth arrived just before going to work at the amusement park and I was able to listen to it twice on the way thanks to the never-ending beach traffic. As luck would have it, I worked on “The Abominable Snowman” ride, basically a tilt-a-whirl inside a dome with lots of fog machine action, blue lights, mirrors, and lots of air conditioning. It took about 10 listens that day before it wasn’t as weird as when I first put it on. Maybe it was my bubblegum flavor/robitussin combo slushie on top of no-doz that pulled it all together, but it was probably a weird ride for a lot of vacationing beach tourists and townies when all they really wanted to hear was “Naughty by Nature” by O.P.P. I had no business running those rides at the age of 17 but I really loved how disorienting that ride could be with all the mirrors, the fog, the cold and for the final 90 seconds the ride would go in reverse. I had a buddy named Kevin that did acid at work and would repeatedly run the mini-train off the tracks and all the riders had to walk back through the woods for about a half mile that summer.”

#dusted magazine #listed #his name is alive #warren defever #warren michael defever #poppy #griot galaxy #faruq z. bey #slim whitman #mdou moctar #sly stone #harold budd #steve wonder #elvis hitler #princess dragon-mom

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staliaqueen · 4 years

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bittersweet | 22

pairing: stiles stilinski x oc a/n: very little stalerie interaction this in this part, but you guys got so much last time I’m sure you will be fine. this part does pretty much settle the confusion behind Valerie’s powers, though. warnings: violence, mentions of murder, a car crash and a panic attack. wordcount: 3896

<<prev || masterlist || next>>

Stiles

“We were here a couple of hours ago, and the message left to Barrow spelling out Kira’s and Valerie’s names was right there on the board in my handwriting and I had the key to the Chemistry closet.”

Scott furrowed his brows. “So, you unlocked the Chemistry closet so Barrow could hide in it from the cops and then you wrote him a message to kill Kira and Valerie?”

I shook my head. “I know, I know, I know how it sounds, but,” I reached my hand into the front pocket of my pants and pulled out the paper, “look at this.” Scott and Valerie leaned in so they could read the paper. “This is a news report that came out about Barrow when they caught him, okay? About the shrapnel bomb that he used. See this? See what he did? He put nuts, bolts, and screws. And then he hid the bomb and the detonator in a box that he wrapped like a birthday present. What does that sound like to you?”

Scott looked up, realization washing over his expression. ”Coach. The joke we played on Coach.”

“That was my idea. You remember? That was my idea. That’s no coincidence, it can’t be.”

“I don’t wanna sound like I’m trying to tell you that you’re wrong but-”

“Yeah, but I don’t have a problem with that,” Valerie spoke up. “Stilinski, this is ridiculous, you did not send a serial killer to kill me.”

I looked down, tears brimming in my eyes as I crumpled up the news report in my hand. “It was here. It was all here.”

“Yeah, I know that. I saw it, okay? I saw it,” she said, her voice much softer now. “But that doesn’t mean you wrote it. Why and how would you even do that?”

I sighed, running a hand over my face. “I don’t- I don’t know.”

“Dude, are you feeling okay?” asked Scott. “You’re looking really tired.”

“Yeah, I’m fine I just haven’t been... sleeping really.”

“Well, why don’t you go home? Take a sick day or something.”

---

Valerie

As Stiles headed home, I followed Scott out of the classroom, listening to him tell me about everything we missed last night. Basically that several supernaturals had been attacked by mysterious demonic ninjas that only came out at night, and apparently, they wanted more. It was hard to comprehend what exactly I had been dragged into, but it was better than not knowing.

As we walked into the main hall, two figures perked their heads up at our appearance.

“Scott, did you-“

Their eyes fell on me and they instantly fell silent. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they looked guilty. I clenched my fists, trying to withhold my anger towards the two former alphas. I actually managed to not slam their heads together as hard as I could, so I considered it an achievement. I flashed them a sarcastic smile and spoke in the fakest happy-voice I could muster.

“Hey! Ethan, Aiden. Nice to see you again. I’m just gonna leave you with Scott and go and hang out with my real friends. You know, the ones who didn’t kill my best friend and then lie about it.” I gave them the most sarcastic salute in the world, and headed into the corridor, conveniently just running into Kira.

“Hi.”

“Hey. I was actually just looking for you. I need to show you something. It’s really important.”

“Okay,” I said, nodding and grabbing Kira’s arm to drag her into an empty classroom.

I leaned against one of the desks with Kira right beside me. “What did you want to tell me?” I asked.

Kira took her backpack off of her shoulders and opened it, pulling out a picture book. It was illustrated with beautiful cherry blossom trees on the cover, and the title read ‘Japanese Mythology: Creatures, Spirits, and Demons’.

“Have you ever heard of something called a kitsune?”

I nodded. “Yeah, they’re from Japanese mythology, right? It’s the inspiration for Vulpix and Ninetales.”

Kira nodded, understanding my Pokémon reference perfectly. She opened the book to a page she had bookmarked and then began flipping through them, illustrations of foxes with nine tales on every page.

“That looks like what happened to us at the substation,” I said, pointing at a particular picture.

Kira nodded. “Yeah. When a Kitsune rubs its tails together it can create fire or lighting.”

My eyebrows rose at the mentions of the two words, and Kira nodded, understanding what I was thinking.

“It’s called foxfire.”

“We don’t have any tails, though,” I said, making Kira laugh.

—

I was supposed to meet Scott and Kira at Scott’s house before sundown. Something about sticking together and protecting each other against the demonic ninjas. The two of them had headed there in advance, and I was headed towards the Pérezes’ house. I had left my bag at Marcel’s last night so I just needed to pick that up. I had also promised Colin an explanation for my disappearance last night, so I spent most of the journey there trying to figure out how much I was going to tell him.

When I arrived, instead of going through the front door I headed towards the garage. Julia and Marcel were at their doctor's appointment, so Colin was the only one home, and at this time I knew he was practicing with Freddie and Marcus.

I opened the side door, which was open, and stepped in just as they were finishing up a song. Colin, Freddie, and Marcus all turned towards me and smiled.

“Hey,” said Marcus, leaning into his synth.

“Hey,” I said, mirroring their smiles and walking across the room to pick up my bag, which was placed in the corner of the room. “That sounded really good. You guys are getting better.”

“Thanks,” said Colin. “You wanna join us for a couple of songs?”

“Sorry, I can’t. I gotta be somewhere before sundown.”

Colin’s brows furrowed. “Where?”

“I have other friends, you know.”

“Who? Stilinski?” Freddie’s teasing voice carried from behind the drums.

I rolled my eyes heavily. Freddie was awesome, but he could be a pain in the ass most of the time. The phrase ‘frat boy’ was probably the most accurate way to describe him. His blonde hair had been styled in a buzz cut for as long as I’d known him. He also always wore a backward SnapBack on his head.

I admired him deeply, though I would never tell him that. A couple of years back he had gotten in a car accident. No one had died, but as a result, his legs were now paralyzed. Despite now being stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life, he didn’t let it affect his positive attitude. He remained happy and upbeat.

He also loved to work out, since before the accident, which resulted in his upper body being super buff while his legs were pretty skinny.

“No, it’s Kira.”

“So,” said Marcus. While Colin and Freddie had known each other since 6th grade, Marcus had first met them in college. He had been really shying didn’t plan on making any friends, but after being paired together in a group project, Freddie had basically adopted him into their group, affectively breaking him out of his shell. Once they discovered their mutual love for music, they decided to start a band, and thus The Outcasts was created.

Marcus was rocking his usual jean on jean combo. He was wearing a green shirt underneath, and a badge with the trans flag on it was pinned on his chest. He was the shortest out of all of them (which wasn’t saying much), standing at just half an inch taller than me. He had dark skin, deep-set dark eyes, and his short afro was dyed blue at the tips. “Are you going to tell us what happened when you ran off with him last night?”

I shrugged. “We just broke into the Sheriff’s Station.”

As intended, their jaws dropped.

“Yeah, Kira’s phone had been taken into evidence. We just deleted a couple of pics she didn’t want the police to see. It sounded kind of thrilling, and yeah, Stilinski is still annoying but he did save my life, so I decided to give him another chance.”

Freddie raised his eyebrows. “How is it that you’re already in an on-again, off-again relationship with this guy and you’re not even dating?” Laughter broke out from all of them, including Freddie, who liked to laugh at his own jokes.

I picked up one of the spare drumsticks from a table beside me and threw it at him. He dodged it easily.

“At least I’m not still sleeping with my ex,” I quipped back. ‘Oohs’ escaped from both Colin and Marcus, making me smirk.

“Oh you’re one to talk,” said Freddie, picking up the drumstick I’d thrown at him and throwing it at Colin. “At least I’m getting some. You’re pining after a girl who’s dating your ex-boyfriend.”

Colin couldn’t help but join in on the laughter that followed.

“It’s in times like this I’m thankful for being aromantic,” said Marcus, shaking his head.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “You’re lucky.”

“Except for the fact that millions of people say I don’t exist.”

“Yeah, except for that.”

---

3rd person

“Valerie just texted,” said Kira, looking up from her phone. “She’s on her way.”

Scott nodded, double-checking that the window was closed just to have something to do.

“Can I ask you a question?” asked Kira, fiddling with the phone in her hands. “I mean, I’d ask Valerie but I have a feeling she won’t answer.”

Scott raised his eyebrows, curious as to what the question could be. “Sure.”

“What’s with her and Stiles? Does she like him? Does she think he’s annoying? Cause I’ve gotten signs that point in both directions and honestly, it’s gotten me pretty curious about it. I know it’s none of my business cause if she wanted to tell me she’d tell me, right? God, I probably shouldn’t even have asked you in the first place – just forget I said anything-”

“Kira.” Scott put a hand on her shoulder, effectively shutting her up. “Calm down, it’s not that big of a deal. I’ll tell you everything I know, just calm down.”

Kira nodded, taking a seat on the edge of Scott’s bed as he sat down beside her.

“I get why you’re confused. It’s really complicated. Even I don’t really get it and I’ve been here for all of it. I don’t even think they themselves understand their relationship right now,” said Scott, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. “But it started out pretty simple. Valerie hated him when she moved here in fifth grade because he set her hair on fire by accident, and she spent the next few years exerting her revenge.”

Kira raised her eyebrows. “How do you accidentally set someone’s hair on fire?”

Scott shook his head. “I honestly have no idea. They were paired together in science. We were supposed to do that thing where you place a glass over a candle and it goes out because of the lack of oxygen. Well, instead of lighting the candle, he lit Valerie’s hair.”

Kira still looked confused. “But – how...?”

Scott shrugged. “It’s Stiles.

“Anyway, it was really bad. She had to go to the hospital. My mom treated her and she said she was lucky she didn’t burn her scalp. The next day in school Stiles tried apologizing to her, but Valerie started yelling at him before he had the chance. He called her hothead when she wouldn’t calm down. That nickname lasted for about a year.”

Kira flinched. “Wow, that sounds pretty bad. What happened next?”

“Well, their lives started to intertwine more when Derek turned her best friend, Erica. Uh, she’s dead now,” Scott explained. Kira’s face fell.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, but they seemed to have settled some kind of truce, or at least stopped hating each other, and for a while, it looked like they were starting to become friends. But then something happened, Valerie got mad at him again and they’ve been going back and forth ever since.”

Kira nodded. “Well, they certainly seemed to care about each other. Valerie seemed quite worried that time he had a panic attack. You know, before you saved us from the coyote. Do you think...” Kira trailed off, uncertain if she should ask the question or not.

“Do I think what?” Scott prodded.

“Do you think they like each other?” she said slowly.

“Well, I can’t speak for Valerie, but there are things about Stiles I’ve been noticing lately. Some things I didn’t think anything of at first, more in retrospect. You know how they say that love and hate are in fact very similar, and how indifference is actually the opposite of both of them?”

Kira nodded.

“It’s just that... Stiles has always cared about Valerie, even when he didn’t like her. He cared what she did and what she thought. When she acted weird or out if the ordinary he wondered what it was about. He always cared.”

“Do you think he knows?”

Scott shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“How long do you think it will take until they admit it?”

“I don’t know. But considering it’s been this long and they still won’t admit that they’re friends, we’ll probably have to wait a while.”

---

Valerie

I arrived at the McCall house at the same time as Melissa, whom I’d been informed knew everything. By the lack of surprise on her face when she spotted me, I figured Scott had told her all about me as well.

It was strange seeing Melissa outside of the hospital. I had gotten to know her really well during my friendship with Erica, seeing as Melissa had been her nurse for years. She had also filled in for my mom’s nurse a couple of times. I really liked her, but I had no idea how to act around her in these new circumstances.

The awkward hello I got from her told me she felt the same.

When we entered the house, we were met with the sight of Scott arguing with his father.

“I don’t need a warrant, I’m your father.”

“No, you’re a gene donor. I got my hair color from you, and that’s all I got. So you’re not allowed to play tough dad with me.”

“Hey, what’s going on?” asked Melissa, taking her place next to Agent McCall. I walked around them, standing next to Scott and Kira. One look at Agent McCall’s computer screen told me everything I needed to know. The screen showed a picture of Scott and Kira when they broke into the Sheriff’s Station. If McCall’s judge eyes on me told me anything, it was that he’d figured out I was distracting him that night.

His eyes went back to Scott and they continued their glaring match. “Maybe one of you should explain.”

“Scott,” Kira’s soft voice broke Scott out of it, and he followed her gaze out the window. The sun had gone down.

I looked behind us, and in the living room, a dark figure appeared. It wore a black mask and hood. Nothing except black smoke and glowing yellow eyes seemed to be hiding behind the mask. My first instinct was a mix of a dementor and a Death Eater. At least the mask didn’t have an opening at the mouth, meaning it couldn’t suck out my soul. But, it could probably slice me in half with the katana in its hand.

Agent McCall noticed the demonic ninja as well. “What the hell is this?” he asked, and then he did probably the stupidest thing he could’ve done at that moment – he approached it.

Scott looked panicked. “Dad, no! Dad, wait!”

He didn’t listen. Quicker than any of us could react, another oni materialized behind him and stabbed its sword right through his chest. Kira screamed, but I was stricken speechless.

“Dad!” Scott and Melissa ran towards Agent McCall. Melissa got down beside him to inspect his wound, and Scott turned towards the demonic ninja, eyes glowing and teeth and claws out.

The back door was kicked open and Melissa dragged Agent McCall’s body to another room. Derek Hale entered through the door, his teeth and claws out as well.

He and Scott both roared before they pounced on a demonic ninja each. Kira quickly made her way to stand by my side, taking my hand in hers. We just stood there watching the two werewolves fight, not really knowing what to do.

“Mom! The ash!” Scott called out mid-fight.

Kira and I exchanged looks as we heard the familiar sound of another one materializing behind us. We turned around slowly, but luckily, before it could do anything, it was distracted by two figures jumping through the windows, shattering them in the process. It was Ethan and Aiden.

I could come up with a million people I’d rather have rescue me than them, but I was still thankful a samurai sword wasn’t run through my chest.

Kira and I ducked behind a couch as they began fighting, nothing to do but look around and make sure we stayed out of the way.

“Mom! Do it now!” said Scott after pushing one of them out of a window. Derek pushed the final one out of the door, and Melissa ran forward and threw down a vail of grey ash by the doorframe.

The ninjas stood right outside, but they didn’t even attempt to walk through.

Kira and I exchanged looks and walked forward towards the doorframe. We started carefully reaching our hands out, and before I could stick it out of the doorframe, an invisible barrier pushed it back. The same thing happened with Kira.

I felt Aiden’s heavy gaze on me, so I turned to him, giving him a death glare that immediately made him look away. He exchanged a look with Ethan from across the room, before turning towards Kira.

“It’s Kira, right?” That coward was looking at her now. He was looking at poor, innocent Kira who was afraid of them both, because he was too scared to look me in the eye. “So, are you gonna tell us what you are?”

“Aiden,” said Ethan warningly.

“No, look,” he said to his brother, before taking a hold of Kira’s wrist. He had only managed to bring it up a couple of inches before I growled at him.

“Get your hands off of her.” My hand flew up to wrap around the wrist that was holding Kira’s. I could feel the back of my eyes heating up as they glowed. Aiden quickly drew his wrist out of my grip, releasing Kira’s in the process. A burn mark had appeared in the shape of a hand around his wrist. It sizzled for a moment before it started to heal.

I blinked, as if coming out of a daze. I had not meant to do that, and the fact that I did could only mean one thing. My powers were getting stronger, and I had no idea how to control them.

God, I did not need this right now. I had too much going on already, I couldn’t risk accidentally revealing myself or worse – hurting someone I cared about. At least they only seemed to be coming out when I was angry, which was... all the time.

I looked at the shocked faces around me. I didn’t give a damn about Ethan and Aiden (in fact, I was happy with them being scared of me), but it hurt to see Kira look at me like that.

“See that?” said Aiden, still rubbing at his wrist. I hope it hurt. “What are you guys?”

“They’re kitsunes, idiot.”

Derek Hale entered the room.

“Use your eyes. You can see it all around them. The younger ones give off an aura. They just haven’t learned how to conceal it yet.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, we haven’t had much time for that. We pretty much found out about this today.”

Derek chuckled. “She probably doesn’t know what kind she is either,” he said, looking at Kira. “But that one,” he pointed at me, “is definitely a fire one.”

“Well spotted.”

---

“Allison, please tell me you have something,” Scott spoke into the phone. “They’re here, they’re trying to get in, and it looks like they’re gonna be able to.”

“Okay, okay, listen. They’re Japanese demons. They’re called the oni. They’re looking for someone possessed. Someone with a dark spirit attached to them. Also known as a nogitsune or a dark kitsune.”

Scott nodded, casting a nervous glance towards Kira and I. “Okay, tell me, what else?”

“Okay, they won’t hurt you. They know you’re supernatural but once they do this check, once they realize that you’re not carrying with you this dark spirit, then they won’t hurt you. I promise. All they’re looking for is the nogitsune.”

Scott mumbled a quick goodbye and hung up.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” said Kira. “They’re looking for me.”

“Oh please Kira,” I said. ”You’re a literal angel. It’s way more likely that it’s me they’re looking for. You saw what just happened. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Scott shook his head. “They’re looking for a dark spirit, and I know that’s not either of you.”

“Scott,” Derek called out warningly, ”we’re gonna have to do something!” And just then the oni broke through the magic barrier. One at a time, they stepped through the door, keeping their eyes on Scott, Kira and I.

“Don’t do anything,” said Scott. He moved with the same confidence and authority as he did when he saved Kira and I from the coyote. It was hard not to trust him when he did that.

“Is he serious?!” asked Aiden, apparently not feeling the same as I.

Three of the oni stepped forward, leaving the other ones by the door.

“I said, don’t do anything.” He spoke with even more authority now. He turned towards us, reaching out his hand to hold Kira’s.

“Trust me.”

Kira and I exchanged a quick glance, just to make sure we were on the same page, before nodding. I took Kira’s other hand and we walked forward towards the oni.

I looked into the eyes of the one in front of me. Like yellow glowing beads, they reminded me of fireflies, which was quite strange. I masked my fear with a face of bravery as the oni reached its hand out and placed it under my chin, its index finger right behind my ear.

The oni’s ‘check’ was hard to describe. It didn’t hurt, but it was anything but pleasant. A coldness seeped through my whole body, all the way into my bones. The oni seemed to be sucking all of the power out of my body through its index finger. Maybe I wasn’t so far off with my dementor comparison.

I fell down on my knees, but the oni kept a firm grip on my chin. As it continued to drain me of my power, I felt a burning sensation behind my ear, which, surprisingly, was the least horrible part.

The oni released its grip on me and I fell limp to the floor.

(not my gif)

taglist: @idontgiveahufflefuck64 @woyee

bittersweet taglist: @stiles-o-dylan24 @theholydestiny @1967-chevy-impala-called-roscoe @cherry-sweet-cherry @kingidols-blog @xceafh @purple286 @bilesxbilinskixlahey @chipster-21 @profoundscissorshandsdiplomat @michellebarista @mey-rapp @nicole-lynne @lostinwonderland314 @wandascarlett

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thewriterslament · 5 years

Text

writing a resume from scratch

as with literally everything i write, this got really fucking long! like, wordcounter.net estimates this will take 7 minutes to read. so i’ve placed the bulk of this post under a read more

this is not a quick tips kind of post; this is a detailed breakdown of how to write a resume from scratch, with examples that are largely taken from my own resume. this is primarily a resource for people who don’t know where to start with writing a resume, not for people who just want resume hacks

i’m saying all this so i don’t get people in my inbox complaining about how long this is. writing a resume takes a lot of time and effort, and this post does not shy away from that

creating a resume will take you a while, especially if this is your first attempt. don’t be discouraged! take breaks, and don’t try to make the perfect resume on the first try. this tutorial is designed to be completed in rounds

it usually takes me a week to get a new master resume into working order

don’t worry about page length right now. you should make a multipage master resume that contains every relevant experience before making a 1-page resume. after you’ve made the master, you can build custom resumes from it for job applications

this post is best viewed on desktop, because i use nested bullets, and tumblr mobile hates those

let’s get into it!

step 1:

list out everything you’ve ever done that could feasibly count as a resume entry: extracurriculars, jobs, volunteer positions, research, organizations you were a part of (professional or casual), freelance work, long-term hobbies. i will refer to each different experience as an “entry”

for each entry, write where (city + state) and when (timespan) you did that thing

ex. tritones a cappella group, los angeles, ca, august 20xx - present

going forward, update this list as you join or complete new jobs/hobbies/whatever so that you don’t have to wrack your brain a year down the road wondering how long you held down that job or leadership role

step 2:

describe each entry

use bullet points to list out all the things you did within that role. start with the big picture, then move on to the small stuff

big picture: the goal of the role/organization/research, overarching and long-term projects, what results you were trying to achieve + why

ex. “studied the neuroanatomy and synaptopathy of the inner ear to determine the role of glutamate receptors in hearing loss”

small stuff: literal day-to-day tasks, every software and hardware you worked with, any particularly successful moments

basically, walk through a typical day or week in this role and list out every single thing you have to do, even the grunt work.

ex. “used redcap to administer neuropsychological batteries and collect biological data”

ex. “designed and implemented a novel article format that yielded a 10% increase in audience retention”

if you still have access to the original job posting or a corporate description of responsibilities for your role, pull that up and see how much you can paraphrase from it

no duty is too stupid rn. did you google weather forecasts for your boss every week? write it down. you can make it fancy or choose to delete it later

step 3:

fancify this shit

rewrite your bullet points from step 2 with better jargon. tell your employers what you did in a concise yet assertive manner

it helps to break down each point into its most basic components, which you can then generalize or rephrase

ex. “googled weather forecasts” might become “compiled weekly reports on changing data points to assess weather trends over time”

use action words. you can find resources all over the internet for this, but if you’re still struggling, shoot me an ask and i’ll link some of the resources i’ve used myself

caution: you don’t want to sound like you used a thesaurus on every word. make sure you aren’t obscuring the meaning of your bullet points. “googled weather forecasts” should not become “utilized online databases to assemble weekly communications on meteorological variations”

start thinking about how your responsibilities for each entry relate to a) what skills you want to showcase and b) what the employer wants from you. does the employer want you to demonstrate familiarity with online databases, or does the employer want you to demonstrate familiarity with weather forecasts? your bullet point for “googled the weather” will change depending on the answer to these questions

step 4:

look at the big picture

you probably have a metric buttload of bullet points for each entry. now you need to cut that down to what’s relevant. think about which bullets are most impressive, noteworthy, and descriptive of each entry

aim for 3-5 bullet points. any less than that and you have to ask why you’re including that entry. any more than that and the employer’s eyes will glaze over

try to combine bullet points

ex. “identify content and write articles when necessary,” “maintain a pool of freelancers,” and “identify key graphics and maintain tagging structure when uploading articles” all involve the process of creating an article, so they can be combined into: “identify content, assign stories to freelancers, write articles when necessary, and upload with appropriate graphics and tags”

start thinking about tailoring your word choices and bullet points to what the employer is looking for

if you can, pull up the job posting or a sample resume for the job you’re applying to and compare your resume to it. are you using similar language? are you demonstrating similar skills?

jobhero.com is a lifesaver

finally, eliminate redundancy in your resume, both in every individual entry and in the resume as a whole. if a skill can be demonstrated by multiple entries, you only need to list it once

kill your darlings! it may sound harsh, but the things that seem super impressive to you probably won’t even be a blip on the employer’s radar. “but saying i made coffee runs shows i’m dependable and a team player!” the employer isn’t looking that deep, my dude. you can showcase your dependability in your cover letter or your interview

you should redo steps 3 and 4 several times, soliciting feedback from your parents, peers, career center, etc each time

step 5:

add the Other Stuff

education

typically, you should only include institutions for the highest level of education you’ve attended. (undergrad and grad school both count as college for this purpose)

there are exceptions to this, depending on how long you’ve spent at a higher level of education, whether your alma mater will earn you brownie points, whether you had genuinely impressive accomplishments earlier in your life, etc.

once you hit, like, 2 years in college, you should try to get rid of high school achievements and showcase college achievements instead

list the school name, city + state, degree type (BA/MA/etc) and expected graduation date (even if it’s in the future), your major(s) + minor(s), and any related coursework (ie preprofessional tracks, specific courses related to the job). you can list your gpa if you feel it’s relevant, but i caution against doing this once you’ve graduated

ex. (where // indicates a new line) harvard university, boston, ma, may 2020 // bachelor of arts in cognitive neuroscience // minor: english: focus in creative writing // related coursework: pre-medicine, computer science 101 and 102 // gpa: 3.9/4.0 (dean’s list, all semesters)

skills

a list of items without descriptions. you can do a bulleted list or you can list the entries in paragraph form, separated by commas or bold bullets

hard skills: hardware, software, languages (spoken and programming), digital and communication platforms, social media proficiencies, other technologies and devices

ex. microsoft office suite, java, wordpress, slack, familiarity with ap and chicago style

soft skills: general qualities, buzzwords, personality traits

ex. leadership, conflict resolution, time management

certifications and awards

can be one section or two depending on how many of each you have

list each one on a separate bullet point

for each, write the certification or award, the institution that granted it, and the month and/or year you received it if relevant

publications

tbh i just cite my publications in the following format instead of following a style guide

lastname, firstname. “article or chapter title.” book title, publisher (aka company or website). publication date.

if you’re the sole author, you don’t need to list the author’s name

interlude: stretch the truth a bit. don’t lie about having experience or skills you don’t, but if you can reasonably google how to do something, boom! you’re proficient in it. if you worked with two team members who never pulled their weight? you just became the sole project lead. were you a beta reader for anime fanfiction back in the day? you’re a freelance editor, baby!

step 6:

now you have to organize all the entries from step 4

separate your entries into relevant sections. what’s relevant might change based on what you’re applying for

i’ve had, at various points in my life, some subset of the following sections: work experience, volunteer experience, leadership experience, research experience, writing experience, other relevant experience

list sections in order of descending importance

write all entries in reverse chronological order: start with the most recent and work your way backwards

write all bullet points in order of descending importance. unfortunately, i don’t have any quick tips on determining what’s important, but it helps to look at the job posting and see what matters to the employer

i tend to list big picture goals, then personal accomplishments (leadership skills, projects), then daily tasks

step 7:

format this shit

you can find resume templates online or in your word processor. templates serve as a good starting point, but i recommend creating your own format so you can edit and customize it with ease. this will probably involve a lot of fiddling with indentations, paragraph spacing, and moving things around

don’t go smaller than 10pt font

mess around with line and paragraph spacing to get the right balance of white space. if you’re curious about what i use, shoot me an ask and i’ll share my weirdly specific settings

keep an eye out for bullet points with orphan words (ie lines containing only 1-3 words) and get rid of them to streamline your resume

margins can be anywhere between 0.5″ and 1″

consistency is key! make sure each entry has the same kind of spacing. don’t use hyphens in one entry and en dashes in another

in the header, write your name, email, phone number, and address

interlude: save this version of your resume as your master resume. this gives you an unedited list of everything you ever did that you can now pick and choose from when you apply to jobs. update this list every 3-6 months.

step 8:

customize your resume for the job application

unless you’ve been in the industry for several years, your job-specific resume should be no more than 1 page

if you have more than 1 page: compare the job listing and your resume side by side and ask which entries demonstrate your capabilities most effectively, which bullet points are the punchiest, and if there’s any extraneous info

match each job requirement to one bullet point on your resume. then match each bullet point on your resume to a requirement in the listing. get rid of any bullet points that don’t meet either of those criteria. if multiple bullet points match the same job requirement, get rid of the extra bullet points

if you have significantly less than 1 page: see if you can add more bullet points or reformat your resume to introduce some more white space. a 2-column set-up is great for this, with section headers on the left and bullets on the right. do you have any hobbies you’re forgetting about? any soft skills you could add?

emulate the language of the job posting; use the same action words, the same soft skills

coda

your resume should work in tandem with your cover letter, but that’s a topic for another post. maybe in another 6 months i’ll write a post on that, too

always save your resume as a pdf! you don’t want your employer to have access to your metadata

if you made it through this whole post... i’m so sorry lmao but also thanks for sticking with me

let me know if you found this helpful or if this method scored you a job!

#studyblr #adulting #adulthood #job hunt #job applications #applying to jobs #resume #resume writing #studyspo #study blog #mine

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mysmedrabbles · 5 years

Text

RFA Reacting to a Muslim MC

requested: twice by the same anon :P

a/n: note that I am not a muslim nor am i a hijabi, so if i get a detail wrong, im super sorry and please pLEAse let me know so it can be fixed!! :D this was really interesting to write, enjoy!!

would you like to support this Muslim MC? want more specific WoC MC’s? buy me a coffee to support my dangerous coffee addiction so i can do em for ya!

warnings: n/a

-hyped mod alex

Jumin

-his strong faith in Christianity was admirable, his ideals set in stone as he abided by them; but of course there was the smallest bit of apprehension in getting to know him, how would he react to someone with ideals different than his?

-he was never one to announce his faith publicly, he still isn’t, however he likes taking with you about your respective religions, sitting on the balcony of his penthouse taking in the cool night air,,, wine for him and Aryana’s Halal Cola shipped all the way from Montreal for you

-orders you the finest hijabs for you to wear, most of them custom made exactly the way you love them, elegant and refined. he also learns the level of modesty you tend to wear your clothes, buying you occasional stunning gala outfit that he knows you’ll both love and feel comfortable with

-you own the most stunning abayas

-absolutely takes you with him on his trips to the middle east. he’s an avid believer in learning about your own roots, and especially if you have family there, he’ll more than certainly take you, going together to see all the sights, take private tours of museums and enjoy life

-makes Chef learn specific halal recipes, and is more than willing to import any food you want from other countries that you cant get in Korea

-learns Arabic in about a year flat,, of course his Korean accent hits heavily, but its so sweet hearing him carefully pronounce sentences to your parents and or relatives

-on eid al-adha he’s aware of the old tradition to sacrifice animals and share with the poor, needy and family; so as a compromise he decides to donate 300 lbs of meat to various homeless shelters and soup kitchens. both you and him going down to help with transport, hand every box to the people, a sort of community service combined with observing a time old tradition.

-comes down with you to the night prayer at the mosque during ramadan, and even though he stays near the entrance and the garden out front, hearing the prayers coming from the inside and seeing all the people that you know and love around you, smiling and having a good time, it makes him happy

Jaehee

-she grew up catholic, lives catholic; but this isn’t to say she’s close-minded to other religions,, she always loves learning more, especially if its about you, who she loves with all her heart

-when youre cuddling, she likes fiddling with the edge of your hijab, just feeling the material and knowing you’re there makes any day of hers better, no matter how hard it may have been

-you being muslim doesn’t have much of an impact, she’s respectful to your beliefs, and even puts in halal foods in the cafe

-this is, of course, after months of her experimenting with different recipes, often finding her in the kitchen at midnight, flour on her face and apron dirtied, sleeves rolled up in a frenzy as she mutters under her breath

-shes so proud to finally present the finished deserts and foods to you!!

-one time you used one of her woven silk scarves as a makeshift hijab when all of yours were in the wash and she almost cries seeing how pretty you are in her stuff (the scarf is yours now)

-always interested in your religion, and she likes learning the differences between the traditions she was raised with and the ones you were

-during Ramadan, the two of you keep the shop open later for anyone wanting to eat after the sun has set, figuring that no one had to break their fast alone if they didn’t want to

-she gets up very early to prepare Suhoor for you in the morning, a simple oatmeal with dates, blueberries, grapes, almonds and honey

-likes to read her own books aside you while you read the Quran and do your morning prayer, its often the most peaceful part of your day, just having a clean and quiet space as you both enjoy each others company while also doing your own morning routines

Yoosung

-sweet boy, he knows very little of,, well any religion to be honest, and outside of 10th grade history, his knowledge on Islam as a whole is quite limited

-always asking questions about your traditions

-he reads the Quran at some point, wanting to understand you better,, and even though it takes him a long time (mostly due to having to re-read the passages over and over again to understand what was going on), but he’s devoted to learning about your culture

-he drives/walks you to the mosque, but doesn’t leave,, he’s not sure if he can go in, so instead he opts to walk around the area, enjoying the park and waiting for you to come back out so you can walk/drive back together

-he learns so many recipes specifically for you everything from mawmenye, harira, and moroccan krsa to berber bread

-he loves spending time with your family, he loves the sense of community and the celebrations that take place in your household, specifically during religious holidays

-he legitimately cries when you eventually decide to go to Mecca, leaving for hajj, because he knows he cant be with you for around a week and a half,, he can’t help it, he’s so sad he won't be able to see you for more than a week

-he’s so used to stopping all gaming and quieting down devices during salah, that even when you’re not around he still stops for five minutes at the designated times, mostly out of habit, but it also serves as a break from working, studying or gaming

-Lisa,, lisa loves your prayer mat, always trying to knock it down from its rolled up position next to the couch and sleep on it, so instead yoosung buys her a smaller prayer rug to lay on and its the cutest thing you've ever seen

Seven

-although he’s always been the one to mention his own faith in Catholicism, he’s also the one to be most curious about other faiths.

-he likes hearing you talk about the way you grew up, specifically hearing you talk about Islam and asking questions about traditions and practices you have to do

- “wait y/n!!,,, are honey buddha chips halal???”

-if theyre not, he opts to buy pringles in bulk instead. hes going to binge eat chips and damnit he wants you to join him!!!

-when it comes time for you to perform Salah, he makes sure that you have total peace, even stopping his typing for the duration, letting you connect fully with Allah and your spirit

-since theres little to no sunlight that appears in the bunker, he makes a simple little app that alerts you when the times of prayer come, pre-dawn, noon, afternoon, sunset, and night, using the bells that are primarily heard in mosques as the ringtone for the app

-if anyone dares to mess with you or insult you in any way, Defender of Justice 707 will send a nasty virus their way, because theres no way anyone is getting away with hurting his angel

-its canon that he knows Arabic, and often times, when you can’t go to sleep he’ll sing to you in the language, and although his singing isn't the best, focusing on the strength and passion in his words, the almost comforting way he sings, it sends you calmly to sleep

Zen

-incredibly respectful of your religion and the fact that you’re Muslim

-he sets himself to learn everything he can about your faith and things he might have to change or alter in his own life to be respectful of the way you live yours

-he cuts down on alcohol. a lot.

-this isn’t to say he stops drinking altogether but he certainly cuts down, only having a beer or two in the fridge for emergencies

-bursts in one day, phone in hand as he wheezes, leaning on the couch for support, “y/n ArE wE hALaL dATiNg Or?”

-if you believe that sex should be saved to be only after marriage, he respects that, if not,, well he respects that too

-WILL spend extra money on an abaya from serenity scarves as a gift, just for you being you

-his only goal is to make you as comfortable as you can be, and he Will Not Stand for islamophobic comments directed towards you, but in most cases he won't even let them reach you, cutting off interviewers before they can say anything with a stream of gushing about how perfect you are, and smoothly taking you to the other side of the room if he thinks someone is looking at you, shooting them a mean glare before looking back at you and smiling, whispering something to make you laugh as you guys walk away hand in hand

-respect is this mans middle name, he’ll meet your family the second you start officially dating, making sure to make a good first impression, the second, and third, and fourth impressions

-likes going shopping with you, and is constantly in awe of how stunning you can make anything look, going to the little middle eastern kiosk in the mall to buy food

-he’s such a shameless fan of those cute matching couples outfits, and his heart bursts everytime your hijab matches the colour or pattern of his shirt or jacket

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poisxnyouth · 5 years

Text

teacher!dave fic. chapter 1. (d.d)

A/N: oops. I couldn’t not. I wrote this SO quick, apologies if there are any errors! let me know what you think. -hailey

wc: 3.5k

The thought of senior year in its entirety was nerve wracking. Left and right, everywhere you went, you were going to be experiencing things for the last time ever. Including your last relationship of high school.

You had been hoping to see Mrs. Porter on you schedule ever for your AP Lit class; instead, seeing someone named Dobrik. There were only 2 AP Lit teachers at your school, so you can’t help but wonder if whoever Dobrik is replaced Mrs. Porter, or if they replaced the other teacher.

You and your friends flood the steps of your high school’s main campus on the night of Open House, schedules in hand as you flit around the grounds, meeting your teachers and finding your classrooms.

It’s an easy process, you and your friends were the same types of students with a majority of the same classes, so out of your 7 classes, you shared the same periods with them. It being your senior year, finding your classrooms was a piece of cake and took little to no time.

You move period by period, hopping through your lists out of order. A constant in your conversation was whoever Mr. or Mrs. Dobrik was; it was rare for teachers to leave your school or quit, so it made you all curious.

You and your friends eventually make it to the classroom of your first period: room 225, AP Lit with Dobrik. You mistake who you assume is Mr. Dobrik for a student, his hips propped up against his desk at the back of the room, arms crossed as he talks to a parent. His eyes glance toward the door as your group files in, standing up straight and politely excusing himself.

“Hey! You guys have this class? Let me check you all off my roster, just so I know I saw you and talked to you and gave you the syllabus and all that.” Mr. Dobrik turns to his desk, grabbing his rosters and thumbing through a stack of stapled papers, eyes looking up as he counts how many of you there are and taking the matching amount.

He makes his way over to you and leans against the nearest desk to you all, pen and green highlighter in hand.

“So, hi. I’m Mr. Dobrik. This is my first year teaching so don’t be too rough on me, but like, if I’m doing a terrible job and you don’t understand anything…..please tell me, even though my ego will get hurt. Seriously, though, this is a really difficult course and while I want to make it academically challenging, I don’t want to make it impossible. I’m pretty malleable with homework deadlines, but only if you come talk to me. Otherwise, late work is an absolute no and I can’t forgive it,” Mr. Dobrik is highlighting the same spots of every syllabus as his eyes scan back and forth through your group of five, making a point to make eye contact with every single one of you every time he glances up.

“I know you guys have jobs and extracurriculars and everything, but again: my answer is to just talk to me. I’m easy in that aspect. Um...there was something else, too,” he scratches his head, pushing his glasses up and searching through a syllabus.

“Oh! Phones. You can listen to music or whatever, I just ask that you don’t text or post or anything during my class. I’ll go more into all of this on Monday, I just wanted to clarify the basics, okay?” He looks up and makes eye contact again, searching for all of your confirmations.

“I know there’s usually a summer assignment for this class, so you guys are lucky you didn’t have to do it since I wasn’t here. That being said, my lesson plans are especially rigorous for the first quarter because you didn’t have one.”

“Basically, a good rule of thumb if you have any questions about anything, is to come talk to me. You can’t get the notes done on time because you work three to ten? Come talk to me. You have band until eight that night? Come talk to me. I’m here to help you, not make shit - sorry, not to make things difficult for you. I want you to pass the exam and get this credit.” He stands now, capping his highlighter and uncapping his pen.

“What are your names and what period are you in?” Mr. Dobrik makes the point of eye contact, checking the name off of his roster, and writing the name on the syllabus. You’re the last one, and you stutter out your own name, your eyes glancing down to his lips as he scans through his list, putting a check at the side of your name. He writes your name in the top right corner of the paper in messy handwriting, looking as iif it was written with the intent to be neat.

“Okay! Thank you guys. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning. Have a good weekend.” You all murmur your polite reciprocation, waving him goodbye as he smiles and runs a hand through his hair, seemingly nervous.

Once down the hallway, one of your friends eventually bursts, “Okay, was he totally fucking fine or is it just me? He’s also super young. Like, he’s barely older than us. Please tell me it’s not just me.”

You and your group immediately start, “Oh my God, no. It’s not just you. He’s probably the most fuckable teacher now. He’s got that messy brown hair, doe eyed, smart, nerdy thing going for him. I literally felt speechless as he looked at me for my name...Y/N stuttered!” You blush at their derision as they only laugh harder.

You don’t know how you’re ever going to talk to him or ask him questions when you can barely tell him your name.

Monday morning comes quickly; your last first day of school begins with you and your group stockpiling into your car, picking each of them up one by one. It’s an easy (albeit early) morning leading up to the first bell.

You all wander through Mr. Dobrik’s propped open door a few minutes after the first bell. He’s fiddling with his coffee pot he must've brought, back turned to the door. He hears the ruckus, though, looking over his shoulder.

“Hey! Good to see you again. You guys can sit anywhere. I’m not gonna have assigned seats or anything, so…” he trails off, turning back to whatever he was doing. His hair is slightly wet, white dress shirt clean and pressed, paired with a red tie, black skinny jeans and black Vans. He was too close to your age to be your teacher.

You and your friends are mostly too nervous to make any sort of conversation with each other amid the mostly silent room, sitting together and mouthing to one another, Oh my God, he looks so good!

More students come through his door and he greets every single one of them, quietly fixing himself a cup of coffee in a mug that stated what must have been his alma mater. The late bell rings, Mr. Dobrik immediately shutting his door and taking attendance. He calls out the names under his breath, eyes darting in between his computer screen and his students as he searches for the familiar faces.

“Y/N is present...okay, we’re good! Everyone’s here.” Mr. Dobrik doesn’t look at you as he says it though, one of your friends kicking at your leg under the table as you blush at the fact. He quickly sets up his computer and his PowerPoint on his class information, leaning against a table as he sips at his coffee.

“Okay, hi, everyone! I’m Mr. Dobrik. I went to University of Illinois and graduated with a Bachelor’s Degree. I majored in English and minored in Film, and I’ve just started an online Master’s program with U of I, where I’ll study Psychology. Um, I just turned 23, like, last month, and this is my first year teaching so all I ask is you don’t murder me if you don’t like something about my class or how I act, ‘cause I’m new at this!” Mr. Dobrik takes another sip of his coffee, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and hitting the next arrow on his keyboard, revealing a slide of essentially everything he had explained to you the night of Open House.

“So, like, the phones...I don’t care if you listen to music, but I don’t want you Snapchatting or playing iMessage games or anything while I’m trying to teach or you’re supposed to be doing an assignment, you know? I believe it’s disrespectful and rude; don’t waste my time and don’t waste yours. This is an AP class and we all know it’s a difficult course. If any of that’s an issue for you, I politely ask that you head down to guidance and snag you one of those handy schedule change request forms. Um,” he pauses, “I won’t ever put my hands on your stuff; you don’t touch my stuff and I won’t touch yours. It’s simple. I respect you guys and it’s not fair if I can do things you can’t, you know? So, I won’t take your phone. Again, I will never lay a finger on anything that’s yours, however, if your phone is out and you’re not changing a song or something, I will kick you out and send you to attendance. It’s different if you come up to me and say, Hey, Mr. Dobrik, my mom is calling, can I step outside and answer it? Like, duh. If it’s important, just ask me.” Mr. Dobrik continues sipping at his coffee, pulling his glasses off and placing them on the table. He rubs at his eyes before he slowly takes another mouthful, eyes peeking up sleepily as he looks around the room blindly.

“That’s really the gist of this whole thing, honestly. If there’s an issue, if you need more time for an assignment, need to take a phone call or text someone back, just talk to me. I was practically just in high school, so I get it; I know how hard it is when everything is due at the same time and the pile keeps getting bigger and bigger and you’re trying so hard to balance everything along with school. I’m also all ears if you want to come and talk to me about something that’s happening in your life or something similar, I have A lunch so if you guys want to come in and hang out, feel free. Again, the main point is: if you have any issues at all, just come talk to me, we can work through it together. Most of you are seniors, so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal.” He shrugs nonchalantly, putting his glasses back on and placing his mug on the table. “D’you have any questions?” He scans the room quickly, taking everyone’s unresponsiveness as his answer, “No? Okay. Cool.”

Mr. Dobrik continues speaking about the first quarter and what you’ll cover during the first few units, unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows as he lectures. He reveals the first assignment: simple Cornell notes for the first two chapters of the textbook due Wednesday.

“The plan is to have a day every month where I meet with you guys and talk about what you understand and what you don’t. My philosophy is that your grade reflects what you know, not what work you did or didn’t do or copied off of someone else. If I can talk to you and have a good discussion about whatever we’re analyzing at that time, you’ll be fine. I really just want you to be able to analyze and have the ability to connect what we read with our personal lives in this day and age. You probably know this, but we’re starting in the 1600’s and going until present day. We’re going to read some John Keats, William Wordsworth, Anne Rice, Charlotte Bronte, et cetera, et cetera, you know the drill. I’m going to try to pick things that I believe you will be genuinely interested in or connect with, and if I don’t...um, not to throw him under the bus or anything, but it’s probably Mr. Carroll’s pick that he’s making me do with him. I’m serious! He wanted to analyze, like, the Federalist papers and I immediately said hell no.

“Really, though, your grade reflects what you know. And you guys probably need to get to it, so I’ll stop beating you over the head with my voice. Talk to me if you don’t like a certain type of assignment and we can come up with an alternate; talk to me if you need to take a call; you can eat in here but be nice about it; talk to me if you don’t understand something, all that jazz. I’m easy to get along with, I promise. Just talk to me and respect me and we’re all good. Cool? Alright. Textbooks are under your seats. You’ll need to go down to the Media Center on your own time to check one out. Get started. I’ll come around and talk to you guys in a few.” Mr. Dobrik finally pushes himself off of the side of the table he had been leaning on for the past 15 minutes, students rustling through their bags for pens and paper as he sits at his desk, submitting his attendance and responding to emails.

“Y/N, stop staring!” One of your friends, Jessie, kicks you under the table for the second time that period. “You’ve been drooling over him ever since he said Hi, I’m Mr. Dobrik! Like, it’s impossible for you to stare any harder. He totally noticed, too!” She’s whispering as you all work, a quiet hum of voices spreading across the room.

“He did not!” You defend, “No way. I was just paying attention.”

“Y/N, you were literally leaning against your arm with hearts in your eyes. Get a grip. If he wants to talk to us as much as he says he does, you’re going to have to get over it. He’s our teacher and he’s hot, but that’s all he is!”

“Oh my God, Jessie, it’s not that big of a deal. Just because I think he’s hot doesn’t mean I want to date the guy-,” you’re scribbling main ideas down as you skim through the paragraphs.

“Who’s the guy? Maybe I have him,” Mr. Dobrik leans over your table, scanning over your group’s papers before looking at you.

“Oh, um,” you blush at his eye contact as he bites at his lips, looking down at you. “Doesn’t really matt-.”

“I’m joking, Y/N,” he cuts you off and leans over, turning your paper to face him. He repeatedly glances between you and the paper before speaking once more, “Okay! You ladies good?” You all murmur your agreement before he moves around to another group, shifting from table to table.

“Y/N, what the fuck was that? He has to know you’re into him!” You shake your head, no longer wanting to speak about it.

Two days later in Mr. Dobrik’s class, he’s going around, table by table, and grading everyone’s notes in front of them. It’s a snicker fest between your friends as he leans over you, red pen in hand as his eyebrows scrunch together and he shakes his head.

“No. You did this wrong. I’ll give you partial credit, but it’s not what I asked for. You can come in here during lunch and redo it for full credit. They look good, though.” He’s stern, already moving onto Jessie’s work before you stop him, making his eyes meet yours.

“Mr. Dobrik, respectfully, what do you mean? You looked at my notes both Monday and yesterday and you said it was fine. Like, I don’t understand. This is the first assignment of the quarter, and I’m starting it with a fifty? I’ll come in and redo it, but why? I just don’t understand.” You maintain the eye contact with him, his lips going in between his teeth as he chews on them for a split second.

“We’ll talk about it at lunch, okay? It’s fine. We can do this later,” he promises, returning to Jessie’s work as you stare at the bright red fifty percent at the top of your page.

So, you come in during lunch. He’s alone, typing away at his laptop as you walk through the door.

“Hey, Y/N. Come sit and we’ll talk. Can you get out the notes?” You feel odd about this already, silently obeying him and pulling the papers out as he continues sending emails, not looking at you. You wait quietly, placing the notes on his desk. He turns to you, looking them over quickly and leaning in closer. He’s too close, it feels like, and you can smell hints of his cologne mixing with his soap.

“Yeah. Okay. So, like, you paraphrased this entire time. There aren’t any bullet points, they’re just paragraph summaries. I don’t want what the book says, except for vocab, maybe. Like, I can tell just by looking at this that if I made you take a quiz right this second you’d fail it. Convince me. Make the work worth it and make it help you in the long run.” He leans back in his chair, looking at you again.

“I thought you said it doesn’t matter how we take our notes-.”

“It doesn’t,” he shrugs, “I don’t care how you do it as long as you know the content. But you don’t.” He doesn’t appreciate your talking back to him, but he lets it slide, liking the fact that you feel comfortable enough with him to argue about your work.

“How do you know that?”

“Y/N. I’ve peer edited and peer edited and peer edited these past 4 years of my life. I can spot when someone’s writing is half hearted. Even if it’s just notes. I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t mean it that way, like, I never thought that you didn’t know what you were doing, I was just asking-.” He waves you off, smile playing at his lips.

“I know. I’m teasing,” Mr. Dobrik rolls a pen in his fingertips, running the pads of his fingers down the ridges of its side. “Really, though, just think about the content thoroughly and analyze it and you’ll get a 100. The work was phenomenal, I mean it, I just don’t think it’s the best you can accomplish as a student. I know I’ve only had you for 3 days, but like, it’s really obvious to me that you can do better than half-assed summaries. Again, they’re still great, but you can do better. It’s really not about the grade, at this point, right?”

You tilt your head in confusion, looking at him as he leans forward.

“Your work is college-level already. They’re just summaries, but you reworded them great and got the main idea across fine. If you do your best, I’m giving you a 100 in here,” he shrugs again, still playing with the pen in his hands. “I also saw you skimming the passages and your mind was somewhere else entirely.” You know what he’s hinting at, and it’s suddenly obvious how right Jessie was. He knows, but there’s nothing you could do about it and there’s certainly no going back.

“It’s fine. Just be present in my class and we won’t have any issues.” What the hell did that mean? That he knew you had the hots for him and that it was fine, that he was perfectly comfortable with it as long as you kept focused?

“Back to the point, though. You can produce better academic work. Do you agree?”

You nod, meeting his eyes.

“Okay. So, since you agree you can do better, I can start pushing you. If you want that, of course. Do you?” He’s pushing his fingers through his hair now, still looking at you. You don’t know what game he’s playing at, but something in you is telling you there’s a different motive than purely a teacher/student drive. Still, though, you say yes, looking at your hands.

“Okay. Then, tomorrow, I want the revised notes, your favorite poem, and a five paragraph analysis of it on my desk first thing. Can you do that for me?” You make eye contact again, nodding.

“Then you’re all good. I just wanted to talk to you privately about it. Let me know if it becomes too much or something. I honestly just think you have a lot of potential and as your teacher, I’d hate to see it go to waste. I don’t want you doing what I did. I didn’t try hard enough.”

“That’s besides the point, though. You can go. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Mr. Dobrik promises as you both stand and he begins walking you to his door. He’s putting the doorstop in as you step out of his room, making sure you hear his Can’t wait to see what you come up with for me!

You stay up until 2AM ensuring everything is perfect.

#david dobrik fic #david dobrik #vlog squad #vlog squad fanfic #david dobrik x y/n #david dobrik x reader #david dobrik x you #david dobrik imagine #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad fic #david dobrik fanfiction #david dobrik fanfic #teacher/student au #TALK TO ME ABOUT IT #WHAT DO YOU THINK

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hornedbooty · 5 years

Text

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20642462

got inspired! wrote some wuhluhwuhs. you can read it on ao3 or here under the read more!

Keyleth was the worst choice for a lookout.

She was perfectly fine to come on a shopping trip, with Vex. She was totally set to hang out, with Vex. In fact, when she had been hanging out in the garden and trying to save a wilted rosemary bush in the measly collection she had there in Greyskull Keep and Vex had walked up with a glint in her eyes, she was totally on board. She would always be on board for Vex.

But usually it was Vax or Scanlan pulling off some heist or gathering information. Not to say that people couldn’t branch out, she’s seen Scanlan lift some heavy shit. And Vax can be charming. Very charming! Super charming.

Keyleth had just been expecting a really nice day out with Vex. She had been picturing roaming through shops, watching Vex card through the fancy clothes while she banters with the shopkeep, pretending she was busy with the first glittery thing she saw so she didn’t watch her friend any longer than the usual few seconds. Keyleth had a routine, she had a semi-plan set up! She was a woman with a mission!

Nothing ever went to plan for them, though, Which she should’ve expected.

Instead, Vex had taken her by the hand, said some very important things that she definitely did not hear clear enough, and now they were totally doing something illegal. Keyleth had been standing outside the opening to the office for a good few minutes now, only hearing a faint click or a small whir from inside occasionally. A footstep echoed, and she jumped, peering in the direction she thought it came from. Waiting a few seconds, she sighed in relief when no one came up.

“Keyleth, darling?” said Vex from deep inside the darkened room, and the druid poked her head inside.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Nothing, I’m doing well. Just wanted to hear your pretty voice.”

Keyleth felt her cheeks immediately flare red and she awkwardly scooted back out of the doorway, pressing herself flat against the rocky stone wall. “Okay! Neat! Cool.” she squeaked back, hearing a laugh from Vex inside. Keyleth tried to frown against the smile growing on her face before adding on, “Just call if you need me!”

“Will do.” Vex replied, and Keyleth wiped at her cheeks with the palm of her hand. Stupid face, she got red so quickly.

A clatter in the darkened corridor right outside the door, and close to her, which sent Keyleth into a panic. She fumbled with her staff before veering to the direction of the sound, squinting to make out a shape. A small black shape moved just a bit, and she braced herself to call for Vex.

Instead of a big angry human person, out of the shadows came a small, young cat. It mewed, swishing its calico tail and watching her with big orange eyes. Keyleth blinked, then smiled as she relaxed against the stone. Just a tiny cat.

She went back to watching both sides of the corridor, one hand on her staff and the other playing with the fringe of a cloak she borrowed from Vex.

The hood had enough room to encompass her antlers, and it made her whole visage way more mysterious than the usual very recognizable clothes she wore on missions. It also made it seem like she had horns! Which was kind of neat.

Maybe she should get one for herself. They were really useful. Or she could just ask Vex for this one. Smiling to herself, Keyleth brought the fabric up to her cheek, thumb running against the thread.

She glanced back over to where the cat had been, now gone and probably stalking around a different alleyway. Watching the end of the alley, which led to the street, Keyleth continued to survey the space around her.

A barely audible yowl pricked her ears, and her head swiveled to the end of the alley again. A few beats passed, and she saw the same cat from earlier streaking past, a flash of orange and black accompanied by the sound of jeering from farther down.

Keyleth didn’t even hesitate to bolt through the open door. She narrowly missed an askew table, and hip checked the other doorway deeper in. She found Vex fiddling with a safe, the floorboards removed and placed to the side in an even pile. If she wasn’t in such a hurry, Keyleth would spend a few minutes being absolutely charmed by the messy braided bun Vex had put her hair into.

“Someone’s coming.” Keyleth hissed quietly. Vex cursed under her breath and hastily grabbed a few bundles of paper. She helped her put the floorboards back in place, which only looked a little loose. Considering the hurry they were in, it was a wonderful job.

The papers in the bag at Vex’s side, Keyleth stood from the floor. The voices could now be barely heard from how deep they were into the room. Quickly, she helped Vex stand up and pulled her along into a corner she’d noticed when running through.

“Fuck. Shit. They’re right outside, aren’t they? How are we going to do this?” Vex muttered under her breath, eyes darting across the room. Keyleth gulped, and fumbled for Vex’s hand. If it wasn’t for the situation, she could’ve mistaken the sudden flush across the ranger’s face for something else, but she wasn’t focused on that.

“Wait right by the door. I’ll dart out, lead them deeper into the alley, then wildshape into something and catch up with you. Okay?” Keyleth glared into Vex’s gaze, holding it. Vex opened her mouth to protest, she could see it in her eyes, but Keyleth felt a sudden burst of resolve in her chest.

“No.” Her fingers tightened around Vex’s, and the other’s eyes widened, stunned. The retort died on her lips. Keyleth mustered up a smile, her heart thundering and aware her fingers were probably very clammy. Oh dear. “We’re doing this. It’s happening. Come on.”

Keeping the grip, Keyleth pulled her along and towards the door. The lack of resistance made her feel a little more confident about this, because holy fuck this was crazy, what was she doing, she couldn’t sneak for anything, w-

They had reached the door, and she was shocked back to the present by Vex pulling on her hand. She turned back to look at her, about to argue her point again even if she was really not sure she could pull this off. Keyleth only saw the look of unsure steeliness in Vex’s eyes for a moment before she felt her gloved hand on her jaw, turning her face so Vex could plant a kiss on her cheek. It was hasty, hurried, and the corner of her lips pressed just barely against Keyleth’s, and the druid very quickly short-circuited.

“Be careful, Keyleth. I won’t be able to live with myself if I have to watch you get dragged away in chains or something. Really, it’s my fault I brought you with me.”

Keyleth had to blink a few times to regain any ability to say anything that wasn’t packed with stuttering. “I-I will. Yeah. Don’t worry. I’ll meet you back at Greyskull, okay? Just keep running when you get the cue. And the cue is when they’re coming after me. You be. You be careful too.” She offered another weak smile, which Vex returned. She let go of Vex’s hand, and they shared one last long look before Keyleth gripped the door handle.

She threw it open, and wasted no time. In a flash, she was out of the door. With a sharp right and her hood thrown up over her head and antlers, Keyleth was taking off as fast as she could. She’d felt her arm brush with someone else’s and, on the way out, heard a loud gruff shout of orders. Through the roaring of adrenaline in her ears, she could barely make out maybe three or four sets of heavy footsteps. Ahead, the alley ended in an almost complete stop. There were small gaps that were the spaces between the assorted buildings. If she wanted, a mouse could easily run between those. Or an air escape, with a hawk or robin that could fly right above their heads.

A sharp, familiar thwip flew by her ear, followed by a prick of pain. Keyleth’s hand moved up, and she felt a small trickle of blood as she watched an unfamiliar arrow embed itself in the wall ahead. Well. A mouse was totally out of the question then. She would be stuck in a gap if hit with one of those . But with a bird, she risked the chance of going down in midair.

By now Vex should be out of sight and at least on the way to Greyskull. So this was up to her. With a deep breath, she risked a glance behind her. Like she thought, there were three men, weapons drawn and a single bow at the ready.

The end of the alley was coming fast, and in quick impulsiveness, Keyleth threw her hand behind her, aimed at the archer. A sunbeam shot out of her palm, and hit the man’s bow spot on. He cried out in half-pain, half-surprise as the simple wood disintegrated in his palm. The other men almost skidded to a stop too, as a look of realization crept onto their faces. Their heads whipped back to Keyleth, but in that split second her form had collapsed into a simple golden hawk. She had used her momentum and the rest of the space between herself and the wall to soar upwards. With a few flaps of her wings, she was high above the buildings and looking down.

Her plan was to fly back to Greyskull Keep, like they had planned. A glance down, however, changed her plans. She could see a Vex-like figure still lingering at the mouth of the alley. Quickly she descended, the soldiers still clustered at the end of the alley trying to figure out where she had gone. Apparently they hadn’t seen the giant hawk.

She flew down low, gliding on the wind. Vex was still peering down the alley, and she glanced towards Keyleth, then did a double take. With a laugh, Keyleth shifted back mid-flight, hand outstretched where her wing had been and grabbing onto Vex’s free hand. There was a shout from the soldiers, but it didn’t matter. Keyleth was pulling Vex again again, the two of them twisting and ducking into whatever streets and alleys had an entrance and exit. Her heart was thundering in her chest, an uncontrollable grin stretching across her face.

“I thought we agreed on Greyskull!” Keyleth shot a look back at Vex, who was visibly dumbfounded and ecstatic. There was a warm, intense look in her eyes that sent a shiver down Keyleth’s spine, and she quickly looked ahead again.

“I know, but there was a lot more guards than I expected and I didn’t want to leave you in case something did go wrong, darling. It looks like you didn’t need any help at all after all.” Vex said back.

Keyleth quickly pulled the two of them into another alley, this one shadowed and allowing them to huddle in the darkness. Panting, she grinned.

“Yeah! That went way better than I was expecting, honestly! Did you-did you see the sunbeam? I hit him square on!” she said giddily, nerves buzzing still. Vex nodded, laughing.

“I did, that was.. amazing, Keyleth, really.”

There wasn’t much room in the alley she had pulled her into, so Keyleth could feel Vex’s breathing shakily fall back down. She couldn’t stop grinning, or laughing. Vex held a finger to her lips, shushing her. The laughter died down a little, but only because Keyleth had found something else to focus on.

Vex was disheveled, from the running and ducking and the wind that had been billowing around them. Her braided bun had fallen into disarray, and wisps of hair framed the corners of her sharp jawline. Her eyes were drawn to Vex’s lip, crested with slight callouses from the rough travels but still soft. Keyleth glanced back up at Vex, quiet now. Her heart was still thumping, like a stick against the drum playing in her head.

Vex was gazing back at her, and her hand slowly fell from her mouth. Keyleth’s face was burning again, but she didn’t raise a hand to hide it.

“You know,” Keyleth said, voice soft. The air felt sharp, and quiet. “We definitely lost them back there. We could leave.”

They could just pull away and walk back to Greyskull, and let the moment pass by. They could. But a part of Keyleth didn’t want them to.

Vex seemed to consider that, gaze moving down just the slightest bit, her smooth skin flushed. “We could.” she said simply, looking back up at Keyleth.

“We could.” she repeated back, their gazes locked again. Her breath stuttered as Vex’s sleeve brushed against her arm.

Vex moved to pull Keyleth’s hood down, untangling it from her antlers and adjusting it around her neck. Her fingers lingered at the crest of her neck, and Keyleth could feel the pads of her fingers just barely press against her skin. She let out a long, shuddering breath, and moved a hand to grasp at Vex’s wrist.

Vex looked back up at her again, eyes shining. Her face was so close, and she could feel her breath against her lips. Her palm pushed against Keyleth’s cheek. Vex’s nose was just against the tip of Keyleth’s, and she didn’t move any further. For the first time, Vex’s eyes shone with uncertainty. She had never seen the half-elf so nervous before.

Vex’s mouth opened to say something, but Keyleth never got to hear it. She moved forward just a bit and captured Vex’s lips in her own, a soft chaste press before she pulled back.

Vex stared up at her with an intensity that certainly wasn’t there a few seconds ago. Keyleth laughed, and Vex grinned before taking Keyleth’s face in her hands to kiss her harder.

It took them a while to get back to Greyskull Keep.

#vexleth #vex'ahlia #keyleth #critical role #critical role spoilers #vex'ahlia vessar #my writing #critical role fan fiction #long post

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