guess who gets to have chipotle today

please can i have 9 from the nsfw prompts with pale please;)

2.2k, NSFW (rough sex at the dinner table, naked woman clothed man spanking, PIV, fingering, dirty talk)

The first time you sigh, Pale doesn’t think anything of it. You sighed sometimes, for lots of different reasons. Not everything had to fuckin’ mean something. It was a lovely evening, Pale was home early from work, you had the day off so he gave you some money so you could pamper yourself from head to toe, he cooked up a big delicious dinner -- if he says so himself, which he does -- and he even turned on the stereo set to play some soft music while you both ate.

The second time you sigh, Pale debates bringing it up. But then he figures nah, you’re the type of woman that says what’s on her mind. You don’t dilly dally around your opinions like some of these other broads do, trying to get their men to guess at what’s botherin’ them. No, that isn’t your style, not usually anyway.

“Alright,” He levels you a look, setting his fork down on the third time that you sigh, eventually giving into the bait and asking, “What’s the fuckin’ matter with you?”

Your eyes widen at the sharpness of his voice, and it’s then that Pale realizes maybe you didn’t know you were makin’ all them huffing puffing sounds as you pushed your dinner around your plate.

“Nothin’!” You frown, shruggin’ with one of your shoulders in that way of yours that meant something was definitely wrong. “Nothin’s the matter. It’s just...”

“Just what, c’mon, spit it out sweetheart you know I can handle it whatever it is.” Pale steels himself for something disastrous, holds his breath.

“You didn’t fuck me this morning.” You announce, sounding halfway between sad and annoyed, and if Pale had been chewing anything, he’d be choking.

“What?” He stares at you with a frown, and you shrug again, waving your hand around, sounding too much like your feelings are hurt when you explain;

“This morning. You left, without wakin’ me up, you know. Without givin’ me a good morning.”

Pale wracks his brain, because that didn’t sound right. That didn’t sound like Pale, not fuckin’ you or at the very least makin’ out with your cunt before he had to go to work. But then, oh right, he remembers that he had to leave too early, and wanted to be sweet to you for once, wanted to let you get your rest. Especially because,

“The last time I woke you up on your day off, you threatened to scratch my eyes out with your nails.” He reminds you, pointing the fork in your direction, belatedly noticing, “Which look real good by the way, I like that color.”

“Thank you I got them done before lunch, I thought I’d try somethin’ new out.” You brighten up for a moment, holding your hand out properly for him to take a good look at, before sighing again, “But you didn’t fuck me, and I’ve been thinkin’ about it all day.”

Raising your brows at him from across the table, he catches the desperation in your voice. That was the edge he had heard: you were hungry, but not for dinner.

“Oh, I see.” He pushes himself back from the table then, real slow-like.

It’s an invitation, one that you take immediately. Standing up from your chair, your hand trails along the table-cloth as you round the corner and settle yourself between his spread legs. From here, Pale can appreciate the tight, short dress you’ve got on, the gold chain around your throat, the diamonds in your ears. You look like a million’ fuckin’ bucks, and he’s hard in his pleated trousers because you’re all his.

“Do you?” You whisper, your voice gone all sultry as you bite at your lip. “Do you really? Because it’s real mean to make a girl wait all day long, especially when she looks like this.”

Tantalizingly slowly, you reach behind yourself and grasp at the little zipper that holds your dress up, tugging it down down down, the dress loosenin’ around your body and fallin’ to the floor as it goes.

“Are you asking me to fuck you stupid right here?” Pale’s gaze immediately goes to your breasts, his hands rushin’ up to give them a firm squeeze, thumbs rubbin’ circles over your nipples as they stiffen against the cool night air, “Is that it?”

“I’m not askin’.” Your eyes glint.

With one quick movement, Pale’s surging up to kiss you, hot and heavy right on your mouth, messing up your pretty lipstick, smudging and smearing it all around. And then as quickly as he’s there, he’s pulling away, turning you around and bending you over the table at a nice clean spot that doesn’t have any dishes, kickin’ your feet apart.

He doesn’t waste time shoving one of his hands between your legs, because of course you ain’t wearin’ any panties, of course not -- why would you when it’s just the two of you here in his apartment?

“Christ look at how wet you are baby, been wet for me all fuckin’ day huh? Did you touch yourself and think of me? Think of how I can do it so much better for you?” He drapes his body over you, relishes in the way your ass is already pressing against the hard line of his cock in his trousers.

Pushing his pointer and middle finger all the way up into your pussy, it’s all you can do to gasp out a moan and clutch at the tablecloth. He wishes he could watch the way his fingers disappear into you, but he’s glued to your back and biting sucking licking at your exposed shoulder, drinking in the sound of your moans and that’s good enough for now.

“Yes!” You push your hips back back back against his hand, grinding down as they crook and curl up inside you, searching for that special spot that has stars dancing behind your eyelids, “Fuck I love your fingers, you make me feel so good Pale.”

“My little slut can’t go one day without somethin’ up her cunt, ain’t that right. I’m sorry sweetheart, I shoulda known better, shoulda given you somethin’ to hold you over ‘til I came back. But I’m here now, I’ll take care of this pussy just the way you need.” With his other hand, Pale fumbles around with his belt buckle, wrenching it open so that he can yank down his zipper and fish out his cock.

“Please! It’s no fun comin’ when you ain’t here.” You moan as he slips in his ring finger too, the stretch of all three making your knees turn in, your thighs shake.

“That’s what I like to hear baby, spread your fuckin’ legs for me.” Pale grunts, and you do as he says, knowing you’ll get the best fucking of your life for it -- because that’s what every time you have sex with Pale feels like.

Barely the tip is in before you’re already having to take deep breaths, having to steady yourself and open up your hips, because of how fucking huge his cock is. You’d been together for damn near two years, and it still always came as a surprise. He rubs the head of his cock through your soaked folds, and even though he fingered you open, it’s still an effort to thrust himself in, his cock so big that if you didn’t know you could take it, you might panic.

“Shit you’re tight, damn, relax for me, one day without my dick ain’t an eternity, your pussy remembers, just relax.” He’s right there, draped over your back again, his mouth right on your ear as he coaxes you and soothes you, and he’s right, even though it doesn’t feel like it.

“It feels like an eternity! Oh fuck, yes Pale, keep goin’ please, please I want more.” You moan when your body listens, when you let your hips widen, your legs spreading even further, thighs already shaking and toes already curling as he manages to push in deep deep deep -- bottoming out with only a few more thrusts.

And then, once it’s in, Pale’s pulling out -- thrusting back into you so hard that the sound of your moan is swallowed by the scrape of the table against the floor, as he builds up a brutal rhythm that has you holding on for dear life, your mouth dropped open from pleasure.

“Got you trained for my cock don’t I? Ruined you for everythin’ else, just my girl. Goddamn you’re beautiful. You know I don’t get to see your back all that fuckin’ often?” With his fingers pulled out of your pussy, Pale keeps one hand on your hip to steady you, and slaps your ass hard with the other one, the sound of sweaty skin smacking together going straight to his cock.

“Yeah ‘cause I’m always layin’ on it.” You laugh brightly, the tail end of it dissolving into a throaty moan that has Pale sweating in his fuckin’ dress shirt, has him biting down against your shoulder, marking you up.

“When’s the last time I told you you’re perfect?” He grunts as he thrusts into you hard hard hard, fast and steady, his cock pulling out and then slamming right back in, slapping your ass again so hard that you’re keening, that you’re shouting out his name.

“Pale! Tell me again anyway -- oh! Oh right there, fuck, oh my god!” Your shoulders jolt and shiver, because he’s found the spot his fingers had missed, and he’s got to press you back down onto the table when you try and snap up from the surprise of it.

“That’s it baby feel how deep I am inside of you, I’ll treat you right, make you come so hard.” Pale pets back your hair as he grinds his cock into your pussy, his dick hard and throbbing inside the tight clutch of your velvety walls.

You’re getting fucked so hard that your feet are barely on the floor anymore, legs kicking up from the sheer overwhelming sensation of being so full.

“Yes!” You moan, clenching and squeezing around him, wanting to give as good as you get, “Yesyesyes, more Pale, harder I can take it.”

“That’s fuckin’ right you can, my best girl, fuck, fuck you’re so good on my cock, I could live here, right inside this pretty pussy that’s all for me, feelin’ you come again and again. You want that? Want to be my little cockwarmin’ slut forever?” He grunts, punctuating his sentences with slaps to your ass, licking up your cheeks where tears have spilled over, your chest heaving against the table, begging for more.

“Yes!” You keep pushing back against him, chasing the feeling, hot pleasure coiling up inside your stomach, rising on the edge of tipping over, you’re so close, just a little more, that’s all you’ll need -- and Pale knows it.

“Gonna come all over me?” He asks, but it’s more of a plea, and he kisses at your throat as he fucks you through your tears.

“Y-yes!” Your body is pinching up then, and you’re hiccuping around a moan, and your pussy throbs and pulses around him as you shout, “Oh fuckfuckfuck -- !”

“Attagirl.” Pale doesn’t let up even as you come, even as the slick drips down your thighs, soaks into his trousers. The hand that’s resting on your hip reaches around and toys with your swollen clit, making you whine out his name, “That’s okay baby keep sayin’ my name, let the neighbors know who’s treatin’ you right.”

“Pale...! Pale oh -- oh I’m --!” You shudder again, whole body goin’ through it, as pleasure crashes through you hard, hard enough to pull Pale over the edge too, and he presses you against the table a little more forcefully under the weight of his own body going limp on top of you.

After a moment, when you’ve both had the chance to catch your breath, he blindly reaches behind him until his hand manages to grasp his chair, and then he’s sitting back down onto it, taking you with him.

You look like a fucking mess, completely glassy-eyed and smiling like the cat that got the damn cream, and Pale doesn’t want you anywhere or anyway else all night, saying as much, “You better just sit here for the rest of the night.”

“Oh yeah?” You giggle, love drunk in the best way, your bones like jello.

“Yeah, it’s safer here.” He kisses your cheek, wishes he had a cigarette to light up. He could go get one from his jacket pocket, but then he’d have to get up, and there’s no fucking way he’s doing that.

“Okay. But my dinner’s over there.” You protest, settling firmly on his cock that’s still hard, still pumping you full of his load.

“Yeah well, shoulda fuckin’ thought about that before you decided to go and be a brat.” Pale sighs, making you lightly swat at his chest. “Alright alright alright, you can have some of mine.”

Brightening up at that, you reach for his fork that had gotten all jostled in the meanwhile, and reach out to pluck something off his plate, being nice enough to let him have the first bite, before eating the rest.

“And then when we’re done eatin’, I’ll fuck you again. Ya know, for good measure.” Pale licks across his teeth, making you grin, because as far as you’re concerned, he’s got a whole day to make up for.

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

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Tagging some Pale loving friends!

Revival of Midoriya Izuku: Chapter 4 "My depression may be chronic, but my ass is iconic"

I bet you didn't think you were ever gonna see an update. well neither did I. What can I say? writing with a broken hand is a struggle.

Link to the fic on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16929483/chapters/81090403

Izuku’s first day of high school was interesting, to say the least, or it would’ve been if he actually went to school instead of spreading mayhem amongst UA’s first years. Shinjuku Metropolitan has been rather lenient in regards to his attendance or lack of thereof, thanks to whatever bullshit Shin wrote to the school on his behalf to ensure that the faculty would accommodate his ‘condition’. Which is just fancy wording for ‘I got a get out of school card’. Truth be told, this is probably the best thing that the doctor has ever done for him since Izuku was nowhere near ready to return to mainstream education, not after everything that has happened in middle school. The last thing he needed were looks of pity and guilt-induced niceties from people who otherwise had no problem laughing at his misfortune.

So instead Izuku has decided to spend his time productively - if you could count tormenting your ex-childhood friend and having an accidental family reunion as such.

Uncle Shouta always had a bit of a mean streak to him, although it never really felt as such when Izuku himself interacted with him. From what little of his childhood he could remember that didn’t involve trauma and discrimination, his uncle was a somewhat kind, but grumpy man. He believed in a brand of tough love - that somehow did not correspond with the way his mother raised him in the slightest and went above and beyond for things and people he held close to his heart. Sure they haven’t seen each other since Izuku was 4, but if his uncle’s empty threats from today’s Quirk Apprehension Test are anything to go by, not much has changed.

Which brings him back to now; sitting in an empty classroom that he does not belong to - a school that he does not belong to, writing down his ever-so-detailed notes about the quirks he will only be able to admire from afar. Not much has changed , indeed.

It almost feels like a betrayal. Almost , being the operative word, because he has no reason to cling onto the things that he no longer cares about - should no longer care about, for they had died along with him that day on the roof, and were properly buried within the four walls that Izuku called his own during his stay in the hospital.

But well...looks like today Izuku is in a mood to dig up old corpses.

Metaphorically, that is.

“God, you’re still here!”

“Kacchan we’ve talked about this” he replied, rather dramatically “God is dead and all that’s left is me”

Kacchan clearly did not appreciate his superior sense of humour, if the lack of response is anything to go by. “No seriously, why are you still here?”

“I could ask you the same”

“I actually study here you fuckwit!” the blond exclaimed in his ever explosive fashion “Besides I had to come back and get my change of clothes since that demonic pet of yours was sitting on them when we were all leaving for the test”

“Huh, that actually reminds me...where’s Bandit?”

“Oi, don’t change the subject you shitty Deku” replied Bakugou, as he kicked one of the chairs over towards the desk that was currently occupied by Izuku and slumped down in it in a way that would perhaps appear as non-caring to absolutely no one “I didn’t know your uncle was a pro-hero.”

Ah, so that’s what he was bothered about.

“That makes the two of us”

“Wait, really?!”

“Honestly Kacchan! Did you really think that IF I knew my uncle was a pro-hero that I would be able to ever shut up about it?”

“No way in hell!”

“Exactly!”

Well, now that the topic of his uncle has been cleared up, there wasn’t much else to talk about, at least not much that wouldn’t result in collateral damage or a Bakugou shitshow 2.0. Both of the boys were well aware of it of course, but let it never be said that either of them could be stopped by things like common sense, especially when it came to avoiding conversational land mines.

“So...what are you scribbling over here?” asked Bakugou in a rather poor and possibly the most awkward attempt at establishing small talk that has ever been known to man and sheep kind alike.

“Ok, no! That is not happening” snapped Izuku, who very much saw where this was going and was having none of it “We are NOT having a civil conversation!”

“Why the fuck not?!” replied the blond, his anger as booming and apparent as his quirk.

“Because that is not something we DO Kacchan!” shouted the teen, banging his hands against the desk, his notebook long forgotten.

“Well, maybe we should?!” exclaimed Bakugou, who was quick to anger, yet quicker to notice his ex-friend’s unusual mood as he tried to make an effort to de-escalate the situation.

“Oh? Should we really? !” sneered Izuku, feeling the kind of anger and disdain he hasn’t felt in a long time, not since that fateful day in the ward.

“That’s rich coming from you” he continued as he stood up form the chair, unable to keep still in his fury as he circled the classroom “All you ever did was shout at me, insult me and throw baseless accusations at me left and right for god knows how long, but suddenly YOU want to have a conversation with me? Isn’t it enough that we kinda talked about our feelings that one time when I was still stuck in the psych ward?!”

Honestly, what do you expect Kacchan?” asked Izuku, feeling raw and hysteric and all kinds of wrong, spilling his metaphorical guts to his ex-bully/friend “That we will just start having normal conversations like nothing ever happened, act like we’re friends or some shit? Because let’s be honest, we haven’t been friends for a very long time, that ship has sunk long before I even attempted suicide! ”

“Don’t you think I know that?!” screamed Bakugou, feeling equally angry, but mostly out of his depth in the situation. He expected Deku to possibly mock him for his awkward attempts at small talk. What the blond didn’t expect was for him to snap, in a way that was somewhat familiar but not quite, as even the few times they’ve spoken back when Izuku was in the hospital or when he got released, his tempter felt controlled in a way it was not at the moment. Katsuki wasn’t sure what exactly triggered such a strong response, but he was not looking forward to having another fight, at least not one initiated by him.

“I’m not trying to pretend it didn’t happen” he explained “I just want to move forward. I’m not the same asshole I was last year and neither are you, so I don’t want to be stuck on how things used to be ! It makes me feel like I’m going nowhere.”

“Ok! Fine! You wanna talk?! Then let me fuckin TELL you something! You asked me what I was ‘scribbling’ over here?” exclaims Izuku, as he stomps his way back towards the desk and snatches his notebook, waving it aggressively in front of Bakugou “IT’S THE SAME STUFF I’VE BEEN SCRIBBLING THE ENTIRE GODDAMN TIME!” he screamed “Those quirk analysis notebooks you used to mock me for? It’s another one of those because as it turns out  I still AM the same asshole I was last year! Now then, can YOU tell ME how many of those I’ve had?”

“Thirteen…” mutters Bakugou, feeling like he’s walking into a proverbial trap.

“Good boy, you can count! Now, can you tell me what number does it say on this one?” sneers Izuku sarcastically as he points once again at the notebook in question.

“Is this a trick question? There’s fuckin nothing on it”

“EXACTLY! And you want to know why?” screamed the distressed teen, no longer feeling angry, but tired and vulnerable, unable to stop himself from having a conversation he didn’t even want to be a part of “Because these notes used to serve a purpose, a purpose I no longer have. Hero Analysis for the Future , to be exact. But guess what Kacchan…” he whispered, no longer looking at the red eyes that used to bring him so much pain “...I no longer have a future…”

The blond hung his head in shame as he listened to his childhood friend break down in tears while hiding his face behind the very notebook that started their argument, all the while Trash Bandit who woke up due to their screaming was trying to get his owner’s attention with pathetically quiet ‘baaah’s.

“You have the right to be angry with me, after all this shit I put you through” stated Bakugou after what felt like an endless silence broken only by Izuku’s stuttering sobs. He never thought of himself as a coward, but at this moment he could not find enough bravery to sit face to face with the crying teen.

“I KNOW that you shithead-” replied Izuku as he shakily tried to take a breath in between the sobs “-but what good is that gonna do?! You’ve actually admitted that the way you treated me was wrong, hell you even voluntarily went to therapy! You’re basically going through a whole-ass redemption arc and what do I do? * sob * I’m still stuck in the past and I can’t let go of my grudges, which isn’t doing me or you any favours. I’ve told you to get your shit together, and this is exactly what you’re trying to do and instead of being h-* hic *- happy for you I’m mad-”

His rant broke off as he took another breath with tears still rolling down the freckled cheeks despite the boy’s best efforts. Izuku slumped down in his seat and with shaking hands he took out a cigarette and lighter from his backpack that was still hanging by the hook on the side of the desk. And although putting the cigarette in his mouth was relatively easy, lighting it was another matter. As Izuku grew more frustrated with the quiver in his hands, so did Bakugou. The blond became impatient as he grumbled “give it here damn it” much more quietly and gently than he normally would’ve done as he leaned forward, all the while grabbing the other teen by his shoulder with one hand, as he used to the other to quickly light the cigarette with a small explosion. Izuku’s flinch at the sudden but familiar noise and heat did not go unnoticed.

To say that Izuku was shocked by his ex-friend’s action would’ve been an understatement, but he was pleased nonetheless. If anything it proved his point that Kacchan was trying to be nicer to him, even if the attempts were somewhat awkward. The freckled teen, feeling only marginally better, leaned back in his chair facing the ceiling as he continued to blow circles of smoke up into the air, trying to regain his original train of thought.

“You’d think they would have a fire alarm in here or something” mused Bakugou as he stared at the disappearing circles.

“Hmm” replied Izuku, absentmindedly “You’d think”

The silence has once again stretched between the 2 boys, although this time it felt less oppressive in its need to be filled. Bakugou was happy to wait for Deku to finish what he started, it was the least the blond could do seeing as he was at fault for the current state of things between them.

“I’m so fuckin angry...” stated Izuku as he crashed the burnt out cigarette against the desk, which Bakugou conviniently ignored seeing as the desk was his. “I’m so fuckin angry-” he repeated despite his tone and words not matching at all “-because this proves that you could’ve gotten your shit together this whole time” he continues while gesturing vaguely between the two of them.

“You could’ve stopped this bullshit and apologised to me!” exclaims Izuku in a tone that is half resigned and half accusing “You could’ve spared me the misery, and yet you didn’t. I feel like I’ve suffered for nothing-”

“You did!” interrupted the blond.

“What?”

“You’ve suffered for nothing” clarified Bakugou “There’s literally NO good reason for you to have gone through even half the shit you did”

“I dunno about that Kacchan” teased Izuku “I’m pretty sure the reason is sitting right in front of me”

“I said no good reason damn it, don’t go around twisting my words you fuckin Deku!”

And Izuku couldn’t help but break out in laughter, because he was pretty sure that this was the first time ever that Bakugou had made a joke at his own expense and this moment was going to live in his brain rent free from now on.

“Oh God, Kacchan-” he wheezed, trying to stop himself from laughing “You were right, you really aren't the same asshole that you were last year!”

“I sure fuckin hope not” replied Bakgou who was just as close to laughing “Otherwise I would’ve had to demand refund for all of those shitty therapy sessions”

“Look at us Kacchan” said Izuku, his laugh now subdued “We’re still a fuckin mess”

“I guess we are” agreed the blond as he stared down at his friend’s notebook in a thoughtful expression.

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After the truthfully embarrassing heart-to-heart with Kacchan, Izuku wanted to do nothing more than sink into the void for the next eternity, or at least until he gets his reminder text that he’s running late for yet another therapy session. Unfortunately neither of these options were viable seeing as he was on a self-appointed mission to catch up to his uncle. The boy hoped that uncle Shouta would still be somewhere on the premises seeing as his ugly-ass sleeping bag was still in the classroom. Izuku used that to his advantage as he gave the sleeping bag to Bandit who promptly sniffed it and began to follow the scent of a premature-midlife-crisis. Who knew that sheep could make such good hounds?

Bandit had dutifully led their owner through an ever inconvenient maze of corridors, which eventually ended with the two entering the teacher’s lounge like they had every right to be there (which they kinda did, shoutout to Nedzu!). As expected, Izuku’s uncle was in the lounge, surrounded by fellow members of staff as they tried (unsuccessfully, at least by Izuku’s standards) to get any information out of him regarding his class this year. Uncle Shouta for the most part looked like he’d rather be doing anything else and so Izuku has made an executive decision to insert himself obnoxiously into the situation.

“In my humble opinion-” he said, as he sat down next to his uncle, while Bandit jumped up on his lap “that Mineta kid should’ve been expelled. Like, we get it uncle, he has potential ” continued Izuku, as he spat the word distastefully “But how far is that potential gonna get him when all he does is harass the entire female population, like every other mediocre straight guy with self awareness of a sea cucumber?”

“A sea cucumber? Really?” asked uncle Shouta, sounding like the unimpressed bitch that he is.

“I mean don’t get me wrong” he continues, completely ignoring the unnecessary commentary “Straight people are already embarrassing as they are, but this guy is on another level, the kinda level that usually leads to a straight jacket, am I right?! Hah- I just made a pun!”

“The little listener does have a point, Shouta” replied Present Mic.

“Also, did he just say uncle ? Shouta, is there anything you’d like to tell us?” asked Midnight, you know, like a traitor.

“No”

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It wasn’t until they walked past the gates of the school that his uncle finally stopped in his tracks to voice at least a portion of the questions that have been bubbling in his mind since the impromptu family reunion with his nephew.

“Izuku” says Shouta, with as much concern as an uncle-who-you-haven’t-seen-in-almost-a-decade is allowed to voice “What the fuck?”

“Look, I heard that question far too often in my lifetime, mostly from my therapist, so you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific” replies Izuku sounding like the unimpressed bitch that he hopes to evolve into through the sheer power of genetics and generational trauma.

“Look kid-” says the hobo looking man that has the privilege of being related to Izuku as he puts his hands together, takes a deep breath and prays to whichever God he believes is not yet dead for some guidance on how to handle this “-as much as I’d love to elaborate on the sheer amount of confusion I am experiencing right now due to your questionable way of life, I do actually have to go on a patrol so this conversation is gonna have to be postponed. In the meanwhile give your mother my regards, and I’ll hopefully see you in the near future when you decide once again to wreak havoc in my classroom.”

“No” replies the freckled teen in a total disregard for other people’s prior engagements, thus truly earning his title of a problem child.

“What do you mean no ? Izuku, I have a job to do!”

Instead of replying, Izuku has decided to simply pull a pro-gamer move, by quickly taking out a familiar pair of handcuffs from the side pocket of his backpack, cuffing one side to his uncle’s hand and the other to his own. That on its own is probably not particularly impressive, however it is the speed of the action that has earned it the title of a pro-gamer move, which Izuku is quite proud of. His uncle on the other hand is definitely less so, looking at his cuffed wrist like it has somewhat betrayed him.

“Please tell me you did not just do that”

“I did not just do that”

After wasting about 10 minutes of his life on fruitless struggle of trying to get the handcuffs off like an untrained dog trying to chew off its own leash, Aizawa Shouta; the underground hero Eraserhead, the infamous Erasure Hero has slumped in defeat, internally swearing to himself to one day get revenge on his unruly nephew.

“God, I am so going to have a talk with my sister about this” he says, as if a threat of authority had any meaning to the green headed teen.

“Yeah, no shit, that’s the whole point, we’re going to my house now” replies the teen, completely disregarding any attempt at ‘ an adult asserting their authority ’ over him.

“I still have to go on a patrol tonight” repeats Shouta, as if it was somewhat relevant.

“That sounds like a you problem”

These Unprecedented Times

Summary: Thomas was currently spending most of his days stewing in his empty house in the middle of the nightmare that is 2020 and wishing he had someone to talk to.  Apparently, his brain listened to him though, or he's just finally lost it, because suddenly standing across the room is someone that looks like a half-snake version of him.

Or, In Which Thomas Is So Bad At Taking Care of Himself That He Accidentally Summons His Self-Preservation.

AO3 Link

Chapter One: Self-Interest

Thomas was running pretty dry on video ideas, and he had no idea why.  It was like all his motivation for creating had been sapping away as lockdown continued.  It was frustrating to no end, and he couldn’t seem to muster up the will to even try and fix the problem.  And with a lack of ideas in that regard, he was stuck thinking about everything that was going on, all of the disease and the death and the nightmares that this year had been bringing.  He tried to stay as up to date as possible in case something new had happened, but with that and all the thoughts already invading his head from information he already knew, he just grew more and more anxious about the world’s situation until he forced himself off of social media and tried to do something relaxing.  Unfortunately, that usually only lasted about half an hour before he started feeling guilty about not being up to date and even trying to enjoy himself with everything that was going on.

He texted and facetimed with his friends as often as he could, but most of the time he was alone, and stewing in everything by himself wasn’t that great either.  The only real person-to-person contact he got was when he went out walking, and learned to understand why dogs got so excited when they saw each other.

But he was fine!  He was lucky.  He wasn’t an essential worker, after all, and he didn’t have to risk his life to make a paycheck.  He should be grateful that he got to stay home, relatively safe, and all he had to do to have the money for groceries was to come up with ideas for videos, which he should be able to do with no problem.  He was fine.  He just needed to push through whatever this funk was and come up with an idea.

Thomas tapped his pencil against the blank notebook page and tried to force himself not to groan.

If only there was someone he could talk to.

“Thomas!”

Thomas yelped and spun towards the voice.  He was met with a bizarre half-snake man that looked remarkably like him.  Before Thomas could process the seven shades of what the fuck that was happening, the half-snake man marched across the room and yanked him up by the color.

“Thomas, you son of a— I can’t let this go on anymore,” the snake-man snapped, shaking Thomas back and forth, which Thomas didn’t really appreciate all that much.  “Do you know what I am?”

“Uh, I mean at this point I’d rather like to—” Thomas started.

“I am exhausted!  All of your efforts to convince yourself that you’re okay while there is goddamn global trauma going on are cutting into my self care time!  You’ve made me get sick of you lying to yourself.  Me!  So look me in the eyes, Sanders.  You. Are. Not. Okay.  Admit it.”

“What— I don’t— oh god.”  Thomas pushed the snake-man off and started scrambling backwards.  “Am I hallucinating?  Have I lost it?  Oh my god, what do I—”

“You’re not hallucinating,” said the snake-man.  Thomas looked back up at him to see him looking calmer and maybe just a bit sheepish.  “I probably should have done that a different way, but I don’t know how else I’m supposed to get through to you at this point—”  He sighed.  “I am a product of your mind and personality.  Though I suppose I do lack a physical form.”

“That… that just raises more questions…” Thomas said weakly.

“Absolutely none of which are important to address right now compared to what you are doing to yourself, Thomas.”

“How would you even know—”

The snake-man sighed.  “Look, I’m a… Side, of you, if you will.  Specifically, the Side meant to look out for your own interests.  Your bank account, your reputation, your self-esteem.  But instead of all of that, what I’ve been spending 24 freaking 7 doing lately is trying to tell you that everything is fine when we’re in the middle of a fucking pandemic with a president who barely acknowledges it’s a problem, which means I have to spend hours every day trying to get your Anxiety to not have a panic attack, and even that is barely working at this point!”

Thomas swallowed, trying to process all of that.  The… Side in front of him seemed to be more than willing to give him a moment to do so.  But even at the end of that, all that came out of Thomas’ mouth was, “…oh.”

The Side buried his head in his hands and gave a slightly hysterical laugh.  “‘Oh,’ he says,” he mumbled to himself.

“Wait,” Thomas said as an idea came to him.  “What do you mean, getting my Anxiety to not have a panic attack?  Don’t you mean give me a—”

“I said what I said, Sanders,” the Side said, shifting and crossing his arms.  “You think your fight or flight reflex is doing any better than I am right now?  I’m sure he’d be delighted to hear that you think so after running himself ragged trying to keep you up with the constantly changing safety measures.”

“My fight or flight?  Wait, is he that or my—”

“His role is to keep you safe,” the Side cut him off.  “Meaning he’s the part of you in charge of that particular set of responses.  His current title is Anxiety, and I think you can take a few guesses as to why.”

“His… title?  I’m sorry, this is a lot to process,” Thomas said, leaning back on the couch and rubbing at his temple.

The Side’s gaze softened.�� “I’m sorry, Thomas,” he said gently.  “I don’t mean to be so intense right off the bat.  To be honest, I’m rather stressed, and I… did not expect this to happen.  Being able to speak to you was not something I ever considered would be possible.”

“Yeah, I think I’m with you there,” Thomas said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.  “I never expected to talk to a part of my personality face to face.  Are you sure I’m not hallucinating?”

“You’re not,” the Side said, looking amused.  “I believe I was summoned here because you needed me.”

“I just wanted someone to talk to,” Thomas muttered.

“That’s completely understandable,” the Side said.  He moved forward and gestured to the empty couch.  “May I sit?”

“Uh, okay,” Thomas said, shifting to face the Side as he did so.  “Can I ask some questions now?”

“We probably should slow down for a minute,” the Side said with a nod.  “What are your questions?”

“Uh…” Thomas wasn’t quite sure where to start.  He could certainly say he hadn’t expected to meet this “Side” of himself today.  He didn’t even know how this worked, or what to call this Side, or—

Oh.  Maybe that was a place to start?

“What should I call you?” Thomas asked.

“The title I would prefer is Self-Interest.”

Thomas nodded.  “Self-Interest.  Okay.  And Anxiety.  Is it just the two of you?”

“No, there are others.” Self-Interest shook his head.  “Don’t even get me started on what Intrusive Thoughts is doing to the mindscape right now.”

Thomas furrowed his brow.  “Okay, hold up.  You’re saying that all of these ‘Sides’ represent different parts of my personality?”

Self-Interest raised an eyebrow.  “I thought we clarified this already.”

“No, I mean, why are you explaining to me everything that’s going on with them?  Shouldn’t I just be talking to them directly?”

Self-Interest snorted.  “Oh, yes, you’re definitely ready for that.  You won’t even admit that you’re not okay, and you want to meet your Intrusive Thoughts.”

“Wh— why do I even have a whole side for Intrusive Thoughts?  Anxiety I can get, but—”

“It’s… complicated,” Self-Interest said.  “Technically he’s part of your Creativity, but, well, let’s just say there’s two Sides to that.  Creative thoughts you welcome, and ones you… don’t.  As much.”

“Well, can he start working on ones I want to have again?  YouTube is basically my only source of income right now, since I can’t do any auditions for shoots or plays.  If I don’t come up with an idea soon, I’ll be in trouble.”

Self-Interest blinked at him.  “You… want me to tell Intrusive Thoughts… what to do.”

“Well, yeah,” Thomas said.  Had he explained it wrong or something?

Self-Interest looked at him for another long moment.  “Sure, I’ll get right on that.  Good luck getting him away from diseases and death right now, though, that’s basically all you’ve been exposing us to lately.  Which connects back to my main point.”  Self-Interest leaned in.  “Stop trying to pretend you’re okay, and stop avoiding things that are going to actually make you feel better.”

“What…” Thomas said, not quite sure what Self-Interest was referring to.

“I get it, it’s hard to stop telling yourself you’re alright.  That’s sort of my fault.  But we’re not going to get anywhere like this.” Self-Interest paused.  “You know what, I have a better idea.  Give me that.”

Self-Interest reached over Thomas and grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table, flipping the TV on.  “Oh, are we watching the news?” Thomas asked, settling in next to him.

“Ha.  Nope.  We’re watching Disney movies.”

Thomas blinked.  “But—”

“Thomas, we both desperately need a self care day.  Watching Disney will help you, and helping you will help me.  We’re doing this.  Sit back and relax.  If you’d like, I’ll allow you to make some popcorn first.”

“Uh… I’m good,” Thomas said.  Normally he’d start feeling guilty the moment he started considering doing something just for his enjoyment with everything that was happening, but for some reason the feeling felt sort of… muted right now.  Maybe it was the fact that Self-Interest was there?

Either way, Thomas leaned back into the couch as Self-Interest started playing The Little Mermaid and relaxed for the first time in a while.  Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

Chapter Two

Okay, so the brain’s a bit caught up in one of my other writing projects, but I refuse to abandon this entirely. So I’m gonna just power through this and then get back to Vibing™. 

Actually, it’s kinda cute that the hero Thirteen is introduced in chapter thirteen. I wonder if Hori did that on purpose or just managed it as a fun coincidence. 

[No. 13 - Rescue Training]

So we start off on Wednesday morning (which would be April 12th/11th) at 7:35 AM. There’s a hostage situation by a villain who looks like a goddamned pokemon (my brain has made the ‘buff ditto’ comparison and now I am Shook) who is, according to Mt. Lady, a serial robber and murderer by the name of Habit Headgear. Kamui Woods, whose wood bindings have apparently been broken trying and failing to contain the guy, is tossed back on the ground as he notes the villain is strong and a quick strategist.

Seems like she and Kamui Woods have teamed up together! Or at least responded to the same villain attack again. Also, who’s this dude?

Random Mii Blaster escaped from Smash Ultimate and is now in BNHA, when will the madness end. 

Naturally, the hostages are not handling this situation super well, though the crowds watching don’t seem as worried? IDK hard to tell from far away. The buff ditto villain uses double team, no wait I mean agility, actually his high speed to show how outclasses the heroes on the scene are. 

As he announces his plans to escape, we see All Might rushing in loud enough for the stomps to be heard. He announces his arrival mere moments before he fucking snaps the villain’s neck with a handchop - or, well, not really, but damn that had to be a hard hit. All Might also managed to grab the family out of harm’s way in the process, announcing that he’s on his morning commute. 

The crowds cheer for All Might, while Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods are somewhat put out - they appreciate the help, but also worry All Might will put them out of business.

(I guess this is where all those fics that do bring up how All Might cuts down the hero job market on his own pull from? Or just coincidence, who knows.)

The police thank All Might with salutes for the help, and All Might give his own quick responding salute before he declares he needs to head off so he won’t be late. Of course, that’s when he hears about a hit-and-run (that super hearing lol) and takes off, just so coincidentally in the direction of said trouble. Despite that fact that he needs to get to work. This man.

While he’s in the air, he considers how his speed has dropped, and that he’s been weakening since he passed on his power. Not to mention that after his rescue of Izuku and Katsuki from the sludge villain, his maximum time went down. Which is not at all referencing him about to overdo it again and lose more time, no siree.

We descend into a flashback to right where we left off after the battle trial, with All Might confronting Izuku about telling Katsuki about (some of) One For All. All Might is surprised and a bit nervous? Worried? Or that bead of sweat in the flashback might be from the strain of holding the form when he’s about to run out of time. 

In any case, Izuku in the past apologizes and says he hasn’t even told his mom, but that he had to tell Katsuki something… All Might determines this might be a consequence of not being explicit enough about keeping the secret, since Izuku isn’t the type to brag or boast. Also calls Izuku too sincere, hah, isn’t that the truth. All Might says it’s lucky Katsuki thought he was joking, so All Might can forgive the slip this time, but that Izuku cannot tell another soul. 

(Stares at this.) (Looks at recent manga events.) Whelp.

Anyways, All Might catches the car of the hit and run guy (and man, that face the dude is making) while thinking about how, suitable successor or not, Izuku’s still just fifteen, so All Might had to make things clear. Of course, then All Might overhears about a hostage crisis the next town over, and, well.

We transition to right after lunch (12:50) with Aizawa announcing that that day’s hero training plans - something supervised by himself, All Might, and one other teacher. Izuku realizes it has to be a special class, while Sero raises his hand to ask what they’re doing. Aziawa’s reply?

I swear this is exactly the same shit All Might did before the battle trial, gimme a second-

Bahahahaha incredible. Though then again, I wonder if those are security cards keys to certain locations. It would make sense, though then I wonder how Katsuki and Izuku were able to get into Training Ground Beta without one… hrm…

Anyways! Kaminari, Ashido, and Kirishima end up talking about it; Kaminari says it’ll be a rough day, with Ashido pumped as she agrees, and Kirishima also pumped as he says that it’s what being a hero is all about. Asui notes that she’ll be right as home in a flood. Aizawa silences them with a glare, saying he’s not done. He presses the button to unveil the costume lockers, telling the class that it’s their choice whether or not to wear their costumes, since some of them are ill-suited for this kind of activity.

Oh boy, will this put you on the path to the hero you’ll be come… but not for the reasons you think, buddy. The joke here is trauma.

It seems like most of the class does still choose to go in costume, barring Izuku - whose costume is still being repaired after the damage done to it in battle training. However, he still has his belt, gloves, knee pads, and mouth guard (with the mouth guard being new) on him. 

Golly, I wonder why your costume needed to be replaced, Izuku.

(thonk.)

Also Tenya jkfdkjdgfkj Oh My God You Dramatic Egg. He’s got a whistle and he’s directing the class to line up by ID number so they can fill the seats in an orderly fashion. 

I’m love this boy so much. And it’s even funnier because the bus has an open layout, meaning it was pointless. Poor Tenya is in Despair, with Ashido teasing him for his efforts being wasted. 

Savage. But yeah, looks like it’s Sato, Izuku, Asui, Kirishima, Tenya, Ashido, Aoyama, and Kaminari in the front seats. And Asui - sorry, Tsuyu - just outright says she says what’s on her mind, which startles Izuku since he didn’t expect her to talk to him I guess? She tells Izuku to call her Tsuyu, then turns to him and just says his quirk resembles All Might’s. 

Izuku, being the sincere boy he is, stutters and stumbles out something that almost looks like a denial, before Kirishima, bless his himbo soul, points out that All Might doesn’t get hurt by his own quirk, so they’re already different in that way. He then goes on to state that that kind of simple, strength enhancing quirk is awesome and that a lot of cool stuff can be done with it. 

Kirishima then goes on to show off his hardening, saying that it’s good for a fight, but otherwise boring. Midoriya ‘holy fuck I love quirks’ Izuku thinks otherwise, actually sparkling as he proclaims the quirk to be neat and more than enough for going pro. Kaminari notes that heroes also have to worry about popular appeal. Aoyama says his navel laser quirk is both strong and cool, and thus perfect for heroics. Ashido then kneecaps him by adding in that that’s as long as he doesn’t blow up his own stomach.

Ashido’s Savagery: The Sequel.

In the next panel, we see Katsuki’s been paying attention to this convo, which has me wondering if this is when he was first starting to piece together OFA from Izuku’s mention of ‘getting the quirk from someone else’ and ‘like All Might’s’. However, when he is brought up in the conversation (alongside Shouto) as examples of ‘strong and cool quirks’, he feigns disinterest and looks away, trying to play cool.

(Also, he doesn’t seem to have his gauntlets on him here, though I know he’s brought one with him as seen a bit later. I wonder whether he chose to leave one of them behind or if he might have been restricted from bringing more than one by Aizawa… interesting either way.)

Tsuyu then brings up how Katsuki being so unhinged means he’ll never be popular. Katsuki, naturally, takes offence and slams his hands on the rail in front of him, demanding to know what she just said. Tsuyu sticks out her tongue as she points at him making her point. Poor Jirou, having to be seated next to someone so loud.

And the moment literally the whole discord was waiting for, Kaminari’s brutal vocabulary takedown of Katsuki, something cut entirely from the anime. Friendly reminder that Kaminari is, in fact, a major lit nerd! He’s Not Dumb! Stop Making Him Dumb In Fics! He not only has the most verbose vocabulary in the class that isn’t from the rich kids (and in some ways is even more so), he also has Katsuki absolutely pegged despite only knowing him for a few days. He Earned His UA Spot.

While Katsuki snaps back at Kaminari, Izuku is hunched over in disbelief that Katsuki’s the one getting bullied for once, but he supposes that that’s UA for you…

To the side, Yaomomo declares the conversation vulgar, while Ochako is laughing and saying it’s fun. Offscreen, I’m assuming that it’s Kaminari mock-marvelling at how he didn’t think Katsuki’s mouth could get any fouler. 

The last panel on the page is Aizawa interrupting them to announce that they’ve arrived at the training grounds, and to look sharp. The whole class (I guess?) snaps to attention.

And that’s the halfway point, so I will leave the USJ proper for next time! This has been a Savage Mina and Smart Denki appreciation post, so appreciate them, or else.

this is what happens when u enable me lets go

(spoilers ahoy)

Firstly, here’s some somewhat miscellaneous reasons that don’t contribute to any sort of narrative analysis but are still parts of the character I like.

His boss fight is my favorite in the game thus far. It’s not super hard, but it isn’t super easy either, and I even managed to solo it on my Balance after a few practice rounds. Sufficiently challenging without feeling unfair.

His boss fight music. It is a bop and a half, go give it a listen, my soul ascends from my body a few centimeters every time I hear it start up.

His voice. I’m sure it’s processed at least a little but gotdamn his voice is so deep and spooky it startled me when I first heard it. Very curious who his actor is; I think he and Inyanga Whitestripes share the same one. Either way, very well voiced and acted.

His design is very good. It’s the perfect mix of innocuous but also spooky sorcerer fella who knows some shit. And I was afraid that the designers would try and make him like. Handsome? Under the hood? To try and make him more sympathetic? But they didn’t and I’m glad for it.

With those out of the way, the next thing to establish, I guess: I don’t interpret Old Cob to be the main villain of arc 3, nor do I interpret Raven as such. They’re definitely antagonists, but they’re not the ultimate problem; the ultimate problem is their divorce, and how they keep dragging people into their bs. It’s established the Aethyr is a physical manifestation of their anger towards each other, and as it thins, communication between them becomes possible, as Sparck puts it in this thinly veiled metaphor toward the start of Empyrea part 2.

But Cob’s still an antagonist and I love him so I’m gonna talk about that. Most of this is going to be talking about his motivations for doing what he does, since I don’t see him quite as the ‘likes to watch the world burn for the hell of it’ archetype that others might.

One of the reasons that drew me to his character is how legit his gripe is, when put in perspective. Old Cob- or Grandfather Spider, if you prefer- is not a mortal like the other antagonists of previous arcs, which establishes he has a different thought process right off the bat. This new universe was built on his suffering and he has a grudge against the ex wife who made it, so as a god, it makes some sense he’d try to destroy it and build one he would like better. He’s fully aware that what he is doing will hurt people but decidedly doesn’t care, and I appreciate that so much. He’s chaotic as fuck and he owns it, along with his superiority complex that’s as wide as the day is long.

Yet his reasoning is like. Weirdly understandable? Like, if my ex-whatever put me in jail for a lifetime sentence and stole my kidney to pay for a new house or something, I too would go apeshit and want my fuckin kidney back. That’s mostly how I interpret his situation. He’s not doing this for hell of it, he’s doing it because he wants to get back at his ex because he’s bitter and petty and for the most part he knows this but he feels justified in doing do because she ripped out his goddamn kidney- I mean heart, and he wants that back.

And then, even after all that, he and his magic are treated as if they’re inherently evil. While, sure, Shadow is a ‘dark magic’, its actual properties aren’t anything malicious by itself. It is described as “a magic that changes reality,” and that’s it. Incredibly exploitable and you should practice caution while handling it, but used correctly it is powerful and helpful; this is likely alluding to the backlash mechanic, where likes decrease the percent of damage you take, dislikes increase the percent, and I imagine the person meant to be the literal embodiment of the magic in question to be similar in nature: not inherently harmful and lashes out if he feels he’s been mistreated.

Going off that, I’m not sure he ever wanted the FirstWorld to be destroyed, and therefore believes his incarceration to be entirely unjust; he doesn’t deny that he instigated the fight between the Titans, but when it comes to being accused of its actual destruction, he gets angry.

...Okay the written text doesn’t really display how mad he got here, but he was like. Big Angy. Super offended. Honestly, a big part of why I love and analyze the hell out of his character comes from how his VA delivers his lines and his voice in general. If you haven’t heard it for some reason, I recommend looking it up. Anyway, here he’s basically saying he didn’t destroy the First World, and even if he did, he’s suffered enough punishment because of it, to my interpretation. The only one I remember blaming him for it is Raven; Bartleby was there, and I don’t recall him blaming anything other than the Titans for it. This is of course not accounting for the various changes made to the lore since he was introduced, but they could have easily thrown in a line like ‘And now Spider plans to destroy the Spiral the way he destroyed the FirstWorld!’ or something to make it clear it was done intentionally.

And this may very well be straying into headcanon territory here, but I think he holds positive relationships very closely to him, even if things went sour in the end; he clearly still has some remaining affection for the Titans, calling them ‘the children’ and being incredibly angry at Raven for forcing one of them to destroy his Heart.

When Rat loses in Polaris he shows up to praises his efforts and even comfort him, in his own weird way. He reprimanded Scorpion in Mirage, but it’s because Scorpion wasn’t doing what his dad asked him to and got his ass kicked as a result. As for Bat, every time they’re in the same room together he pays him some sort of compliment.

Bat claims that he and his brothers are meant to be his tools, and to some extent that’s true, but he also genuinely cares about them, and it’s really interesting to see a villain defect from the usual ‘not caring about anyone other than themselves’ and openly show affection for his kids while still managing to be an incredible asshole.

In line with this is his relationship with the Wizard. There is, of course, a foundation of manipulation to their dynamic, at least to some degree. I thoroughly believe that Spider was overshadowing Coleridge, at least partly, so our character could bust him out of prison.

And while this is happening, he regains some of his spent power and removes threats to it as well, namely Morganthe, using the Wizard’s help. In fact, I have very little doubt that he was at least partially responsible for her fall; his timing on that two-liner was too on the nose.

But even with that, I think he genuinely treasures the Wizard’s help and company, which is why he attempts on four different occasions to either sway them to his side, or warn them away from what he’s doing.

Boy, I want that vacation, but it’s your fault I’m here.

And then, of course, his relationship with Raven, something that is basically a summation of his character arc. Laden with baggage and tragic in concept, it is my belief that most of what he’s doing isn’t because he genuinely hates the Spiral or he wants to get back at her, but because he loved her and treasured their relationship; so upon her mistreating him, he lashed out at everything she’d made and detested it as a result. But only because he felt betrayed and hurt so he has to inflict that on other people because he is, as aforementioned, a petty and bitter old fuck.

Moving off that line of thinking, an admirable quality he possesses is how smart he is. This guy has so many wrinkles in his brain it must look like a raisin. Well, perhaps not ‘smart’ exactly, but how good he is at manipulating certain situations to his advantage. Like in Mirage; you just know that he was fully expecting Mellori to be there and fully planned to use her as a back up plan, or you could even argue that the whole debacle in Mirage was a ploy to get his hands on her, while having the added possible benefit of things actually working out.

Actually his scheme in Mirage was really interesting now that I think about it. His aim was to turn back time to when the FirstWorld was whole, further implying that he never wanted its destruction in the first place. It would also, of course, be a time where he had his Heart and would have the ability to avoid having it ripped out again. This would involve not having the Titans fight each other again, or at least not starting it and suffering the consequences. It would be everything he wanted to achieve knocked out in one go with minimal muss or fuss, compared to other methods. It’s probably a part of why he shows up personally to bargain with Eerkala and the Cabal, and why he directly intervenes in our Wizard’s efforts to stop him; it was too important to trust to any of his kids, so knowing Scorpion probably wouldn’t have been able to execute it anyway, he used his kid as a distraction for the most part.

I also like looking into the fact that his element, besides Shadow, is Storm, as opposed to pure Shadow or Death, as most major antagonists are. Storm is a school based on invention, experimentation and improvement. This is something that interests me for two reasons: one, the magic of major antagonists is always a part of their character, Malistaire the most blatantly, and two, because of this line he says in Mirage.

To my interpretation, this would imply that he sees the Spiral as something that could be improved. And as a god, he would of course find it his obligation to try and fix this flaw. When he made the barter with the Cabal, I don’t doubt he was being at least partially honest about restoring the FirstWorld; it would certainly fix the flaw it has in the context of stealing his internal organs, but he would also probably seek to improve it, make it more suited to Shadow or something.

Something else I find intriguing is how weirdly honest he is; I don’t recall him ever lying to us once, unless you count omitting certain facts as lying. But that’s absolutely something I can see him using against people, like “I didn’t lie to you, I just didn’t tell you, your fault for not asking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ .” As said before, he;s really good at manipulating people and he weaponizes whatever he can; @that-wizard-oki​ made a really great post about how he uses conflicts- his fault or not- to his advantage, and does his own thing in the background without interruption, Mirage and Neumia probably being the best example of this, with Scorpion and the Cabal serving as distractions while he either carries out things himself or gives instructions.

To pull all of this together narratively, I think it’s important to consider this line from Mellori during one of their confrontations:

He feels powerless, so he puffs up his god status. He has little power to fight with, compared to before, so he mostly manipulates and creates back-up plans while causing conflicts to serve as distractions. His love hurt him, so he lashes out at others and drags them into his problems.

You may ask, “But Sam, these are all bad qualities, why should we like him because of this?” And I would respond “Because it makes him a complex and interesting antagonist.” The kind of character that executes his shitty actions in such a way that you can’t help but respect- even just for the level of dramatics put in to it- while also having a motive that makes you stop and consider that maybe he has a point but is very much handling the situation the wrong way.

Like, c’mon, he ticks so many villain boxes. Tragic backstory? Check. Blatant thespian who owns it? Check. Gets his hands dirty before the climax of the story? Check. Smart/ manipulative/ has back-up plans? Check. Understandable, strong motives? Check.

He’s got layers. Like onion. I felt like there was always something new to discover about him, and for that I can assert my opinion that he’s one of the best characters in Wizard101.

lmao if you read this far into my simp-for-shithead post congrats. feel free to shoot me more asks on the subject bc i cant write persuasive-essay-esque format anymore my brain is rotting. if you will excuse me, im off to listen to the chronoverge combat track for the 82937487734th time

Firekeeper’s Daughter Book Review

Disclaimer: Please keep in mind that all of my in-depth reviews contain spoilers. 

Firekeeper’s Daughter Book Review by Angeline Boulley 

Well, this book review came quicker than I thought it would (which after weeks since my last published review for an actual novel that may sound absurd, but I promise it isn’t). 

There’s a lot of great things about this book and a lot of really important representation, but I also found it to be an incredible slog to trudge through. 

Firekeeper's Daughter by Angeline Boulley is the story of a girl by the name of Daunis Fontaine who finds herself stuck between two worlds: her Fontaine side, also known as her zhaaganaash or white side, and her Native side, or known as her Anishinaabe side, or even more specifically, Ojibwe side. 

The debut novel from Boulley mainly describes Daunis’ struggle between these two worlds, the important people in them, and the war within herself to follow her heart, her gut, and her mind. 

In the background of this identity struggle, or perhaps largely influenced by it, Daunis finds herself inexplicably tangled up in a secret federal investigation into a specific type of meth being produced in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula that affects people not only in her community, but other Native communities as well. 

Suddenly finding herself becoming a spy, Daunis starts to learn and keep secrets, those in regards to the investigation as well as those regarding her feelings for fellow investigator-Jamie Johnson-an undercover narcotics cop posing as the cute new highschooler in town. 

As Daunis deals with her own internal struggles, her community, her relationships, and her burgeoning romance, her past, future, and present all collide and come to a head in this new novel. 

Now. Reading this summary, you might be thinking: this book sounds awesome! Love? Undercover cops? Drugs? Mystery? It has everything. 

And you’d be right. 

When I first read the jacket cover for this novel I knew it was a book I was inevitably going to read. Everything from the gorgeous cover art, to the intriguing summary, to the representation of Native Americans, I was completely drawn in. 

Too bad I didn’t like it very much. 

I will start off by saying that I think this book is incredible in its realistic depiction of the Ojibwe experience and I know how important it is to increase representation of all kinds of people and backgrounds in literature, especially YA literature. 

Boulley did an absolutely stunning job of relaying the nitty-gritty of the Ojibwe community-the elders, the geography, the food, the stigma, the finances, the politics, the reputation, the racism, the prejudice, the community, the love, the healing, and so much more. 

I always am in awe when authors utilize the golden rule of write what you know. Per the back jacket of the novel, Boulley herself states that she is an enrolled member of the Sault Ste. Marie Tribe of Chippewa Indians and an active storyteller of the Ojibwe community. 

This is beyond incredible. Having an accurate and active portrayal of people writing and drawing from their own experiences are powerful and significant. I could taste, feel, and see how clear and how real Boulley made the novel. 

I questioned a lot of things during this read, but the Ojibwe community in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula was not one of them. From vocabulary to the extreme details depicting Sugar Island to the care and craft when talking about specific ceremonies like funerals, Boulley did an outstanding job of bringing in what she knows from her own experience and that of her community in order to breathe life into these pages. 

This was by far the best part of the novel for me. 

On the back jacket, Boulley also states that she was a former Director of the Office of Indian Education at the U.S. Department of Education. While I did not know this until a few minutes ago when I sat down to write this review, I am in no way surprised. 

The book was extremely intelligent. I could viscerally tell that Boulley knows her stuff and does her research. Everything from biology and chemistry processes and vocabulary, to mushroom identification, to legal matters like having an underage informant, politics regarding becoming a member of the Ojibwe Tribe, and due process of the law regarding FBI cases was very clear cut, very detailed, and obviously very accurate. 

I appreciated how much time and effort was put into this, even if I did find a lot of it bone dry and dull, I still could appreciate the time, effort, and knowledge to make sure that everything in the novel was precise and correct. 

That being said, it also made the book come across almost like an informational pamphlet at times, or like I was reading non-fiction. I understand being accurate, and I applaud her for that, but I don’t need or want five pages of in-book description of how one of these processes work. Just give me the bare-bones outline and I will go from there and look it up more if I so desire. 

This brings me to my first critique of this book and a large reason it was so tedious to get through: it was mind-numbingly long. 

Now. I just read a 2,000 page fanfiction not that long ago. That is long, you could argue, and you would be right. But, none of All of the Young Dudes was a bore to get through (sad, sure, but not boring), whereas whole sections of Firekeeper’s Daughter were too dragged out and too explicitly explained that I inevitably got bored and nodded off. 

The pace was too slow and too bogged down with unimportant details, like Daunis’ daily visits to the elders or her overthinking every single thing, or her making lists of all the things she doesn’t know (these are long lists). 

She often spends whole pages grieving about her Uncle David as well as her best friend Lily, and while understandable and realistic in real life, it was not fun nor productive to read about over and over and over again. 

Take for example, the very beginning of the book. It takes over 100 pages for Daunis to realize the new-boy-next-door isn’t who he says he is and that he’s actually an undercover cop here to investigate a new strain of meth and asks for her help. 

Over 100 pages of set up. 

It was so goddamn boring. 

It got better once she became involved with the investigation, but then so did the whining, the overthinking, and the reflecting. The first 100 pages could have been condensed to 20. No joke, I would have gotten the same exposition out of that I did. 

In addition, despite things taking so long or not serving a purpose, I was often confused about what was happening, which is an overall unpleasant experience. Boulley simultaneously describes everything and yet nothing at the same time.

 The reason for this discrepancy is because she often used native language to describe feelings, events, people, etc and while some of the words I learned over time, often the words left me confused or bewildered. 

I appreciate the use of native language, but it also left me with big gaps while reading or made me struggle to put pieces together as they were happening. 

The pace of the novel overall was incredibly bad. Things either took 12 years or two minutes. The actual plot to show up? 12 Years. Daunis and Jamie to fall in love classic YA style? Two minutes. Daunis to find Uncle David’s notebook? 12 years. The final confrontation of the bad guys? Two minutes. 

With any event, it either felt sluggish or way too quick and mashing these two together in one novel was disorienting and frustrating, not to mention it made me not want to read. 

Additionally, while I generally thought the plot was very interesting, who doesn’t like undercover cop stories? I thought all of the characters were very forgettable or downright shells. 

Daunis was...a textbook female character in my eyes. The way she spouted off knowledge like the periodic table to fall asleep or reciting the scientific method wasn’t cool or new, it was irritating.

To me she wasn’t real. 

She was someone’s idea of a female character who seemed cool, but wasn’t. Nothing about Daunis made me think of her as a great character. If anything, she just seemed like an empty vessel I was reading the book through, like the book was happening to me instead (cough cough Mary Sue). 

Some of you may be upset with this statement, and that’s fine, but other than her love of science, her knowledge of geography, and her ties to the community, nothing about Daunis was a real person. 

She hardly had friends, I don’t recall learning anything she liked or disliked (other than Jamie, hockey, and running) , and she was entirely surmised of the people who had left her and the identity struggle she had been born with. I don’t mean to undermine people who struggle with their identity, I know that’s important, but there is more to people than just that. 

None of the other characters are frankly worth mentioning. 

You might ask, what about Jamie? The shadowy, scarred love interest?

*Shrugs*

He’s fine. Genuinely that’s all I can say about him. We don’t even learn his real name as Jamie Johnson is a fake. All I know is that he’s got curly hair, a scar, and doesn’t know who he is. It’s hard to like a character when the character themselves have no idea of who they are. 

The other characters either die or are in the background to progress the plot along. 

To be fair, it’s a good plot. It’s intriguing, it’s mysterious, and I learned more than I ever thought I would about meth and mushrooms, but it doesn’t make up for the dead-end characters or the pacing issues. 

I didn’t hate it, but I also didn’t like it. I guess I can say that I feel indifferent about this book, although the representation of Native Americans bumps it up slightly for me from being dead average. 

The storytelling isn’t spectacular, even if the idea is promising, but if you have been searching for representation like this in YA I can see how this book would be much more impactful and important and I’m happy to have it as a part of the YA collective. 

Recommendation: At the end of the day, this novel is a true smorgasbord. I love the representation, the draws from Boulley’s real life, and the intelligence, but I didn’t see any of the characters as real people, the pacing issues made it hard to gain and keep interest going, and the dialogue often came across to me as someone's warped version of what teenager’s sound like. 

Score: 6/10

MY RE-WRITING PARTS OF THE ACOTAR SERIES

*some acosf spoilers thrown in because i realize that SJM is writing a story so far removed from what i thought the story should go*

*a bit rant-y but i think this would have made the story more compelling*

i still think elain should have died in the cauldron back in ACOMAF and in my logic this would set of a story that will definitely heal and see powerful women who didn’t have power before be able to weld and rise up.

- nesta and feyre is over protective of elain and would do anything for her (and quite frankly elain’s personality is almost none existent. nesta and feyre are fantastic juxtapositions of one another and can carry themselves well)

- killing elain in the cauldron would up the stakes for both feyre and nesta (instead of making the only thing interesting about elain being likeable, gardening, azriel/lucien ships, pretty and agreeable, and bouncing back and forth between sisters)

- therefore forcing them to work together; push aside their personal bad blood for one another in the name of avenging elain

- through that process of strategizing and learning about fae and their own abilities (feyre’s high lord powers and nesta’s power she stole from the cauldron) they learn to appreciate one another. (and since this is a love story, nesta can still train with cassian but it would be BECAUSE SHE ASKED TO BE TRAINED instead of being forced to)

- they would eventually HAVE to confront their deep personal relationship to one another and move pass their old pains (INSTEAD OF MAKING FEYRE ALMOST DIE FROM SOMETHING THAT SHOULDN’T BE AN ISSUE OR ANY OF THE SPITEFUL SHIT THAT HAPPENS IN ACOSF)

- we learn about their family and their dynamics and how they can agree that their father is trash and even talk about the pain their mother gave (where BOTH SISTERS WILL HAVE AN APPRECIATION OF EACH OTHER AND MAKE SURE WHEN THEY HAVE FAMILIES OF THEIR OWN THEY WON’T TREAT THEIR KIDS THE SAME WAY AND EVEN HELPING HUMAN FAMILIES WHO STRUGGLED LIKE THEM)

- no locking anyone up!!!! the self sabotage of nesta won’t happen because she will put her energy into avenging elain; thus fighting for a bigger cause than herself and make her actually use the power she stole. SHE WOULD HAVE AGENCY. NO RELYING ON THE DRINKING/SEX BECAUSE OF PAIN TROPE. NO RHYSAND BEING A FUCKEN DICK AND EVERYONE SHIT TALKING TO NESTA. they can still have that disagreeable dynamic, whatever but rhysand being over protective and everyone else ganging up on her was disgusting and she did not deserve that.

- WE WILL SEE THEM BECOME LEADERS -- they will lead the strategy along w the IC; we will see them lead with the other high lords, we will see them convince the humans. we got glimpses of that in ACOWAR! SJM writes girlbosses which is just *rolls eyes*. lets let these ladies actually LEAD. let them actually have power instead of writing lip service for that. or taking their fucken power away for the drama. (WTF WAS THE FEYRE CAN’T HEAL BULLSHIT?? WHY STIFLE FEYRE WHEN SJM BUILT HER UP IN THE LAST FOUR FUCKEN BOOKS TO BE THIS POWERFUL FIGURE BUT LIKE GIVING BIRTH, A NATURAL THING THAT FEMALES CAN DO, IS GONNA KILL HER AND MAKE HER THE MOST VULNERABLE SHES EVER BEEN AND MAKE RHYSAND LOOK LIKE A SHIT PARTNER CUZ HE REFUSE TO TELL HER ABOUT HER RISKS. JUST FOR THE DRAMA I GUESS???)

- when war is fought and lost; we see them stand together to become the new leaders of the new world. the wall is gone and hybern is killed. again, we got a glimpse of that in ACOWAR at the end. there should have been a moment when fayre confronts tamlin and TALK to him. they seemed so poised to be LEADERS. new leadership because the old high lords are garbage and they fucked up so many times. introduce new policies, introduce new trade deals, beef up economies (esp since this is hyberns main reason to high up prythian), etcetc.

- feyre can work on leading night court as a high lady along with leading the rebuild of spring court (since she fucken wrecked it, displaced all the citizens, and took it from tamlin. feyre also knows about spring court’s rebuilding effort and how the tilthe isn’t it. she even said that tamlin should not make ppl bring useless things because they have so many things. the water folks dont have fish and that tamlin should have helped them hunt for fish or whatever instead of punishing them) and the new laws and policies for humans (can be intigration?? rhys and feyre talked about human refugees??? where did that talk go??). we can actually see feyre be a HIGH lady instead of her spending her days shopping and decorating and breeding (WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT WOULD HAPPEN WITH TAMLIN and we saw that as a bad thing!!! why spend 600 goddamn pages talking about not being that to turn 180 and be exactly that????)

- feyre’s reason for fighting has also been to the benefit of the human realm. the fact that she kind of said fuck it as the books progressed to where nesta or elain are the ambassador to the human realm felt so wrong because being human once was what was special about feyre. that was her north star. her whole heartedly identifying fae is wrong (maybe this is my theory about ACOTAR being a tragedy comes in).

- nesta would finally be an actual queen. you can’t tell me with all the mentions of nesta having queen energy is gonna translate to whatever the fuck it was in ACOSF??? nesta would get leadership experience. she would have purpose! she might even be able to envision of brighter future and fight to not let something like hybern happen again. protect those who can’t be protected? protect those who see the light in the world the way elain did?? maybe even her power can protect the cauldron and she could be a guardian or something??

- this is where i venture off; after the war, feyre leads the rebuild in prythian. nesta can lead the effort in hybern (AGAIN NO LOCKING UP!!! NO TAKING TIPS FROM TAMLIN’S HANDBOOK. NO FORCING HER AGAINST HER WILL!!!). she could rebuild it in a new name and face. her book could focus on her learning about her power; learning about how to please the hybern folks who dont like her (and i like that nesta isnt a likeable person from the start unless you are someone like meeeee). imagine seeing her ACTUALLY make her own friends and have her own inner circle??? imagine her making new friends and helping others. imagine her ruling??? making policys and laws?? imagine her going to different courts to do economic trades and deals?? she would channel her energy into something HELPFUL AND IMPACTFUL. she can still dance and do the big ball stuff. she can host she can feel like shes in control and maybe even channeling her guilt into something that is systematically helpful.

- along w this, cassian would be able to leave night court. he has been side line for so long. hes a buffer between mor and az and thats unfair to him. hes his own person and shouldnt be deligated to that task. he would have to actively choose nesta, which he wasn’t doing throughout the original trilogy. he would have to be placed in an environment outside his comfort! cassian is so much more than a goof ball and buffer. besides his skills might be necessary to handle hybern’s war-happy citizens

- we can see more of this world. hybern is sitting empty and the problems from the start still exists. im just so disappointed that SJM drops hints of scocio-economic problems that exists in the fae world and dont deliver. why deliver something so complicated to ignore??? its such ashame this world is so rich and beautiful and the characters are so fun to read about and for it to be turn out...so....trope-y (IN A BAD WAY). the original stories are fine too i guess, but it doesn’t feel planned out. it feels like SJM writes on a whim and just changes things as she sees it fit the relationship of characters.

Don’t Call Me Angel - Detective Meares x Reader (Needle)

GIF CREDIT: X 

All responsibility out the window here, I can’t claim any, it’s all Mendo Nation’s fault! No seriously they came up with it, I’m innocent I swear!

Author’s Note: “How did we get here!? Who brought us here!?” 

I stg, @mendelskrull​ and @crawlingmist​ started me on this damn man with digging up (and creating) gifs I didn’t even realise were a thing. And then I was like ‘you know I think I can probably get something out of him!’ and kinda dismissed that 500 words as all we were ever going to get.

Oh no. Then - rightfully so! - I did some campaigning for him on Twitter polls and now I’m here. 

I digress. I wrote more for Meares, and you’re welcome.

Disclaimer: This is not my idea/plot and is a joint effort of the Mendo Nation - who let me go ahead and write it / Needle naught to do with me / gifs & lyrics not mine

Premise: When Meares turns up at a crime scene and finds a second potential victim he’ll do anything to see the killer brought to justice, for her. If he can figure out who the killer is...

Words: 8277

Warnings: TW potential rape discussed / sexual connotations / sexual pre-amble / swearing / kidnap / I really tried to make that last scene as far from non-con as I possibly could but I still want to put a warning for it jic.

____

Don't call me angel when I'm a mess Don't call me angel when I get undressed You know I, I don't like that, boy I make my money, and I write the checks So say my name with a little respect All my girls successful, and you're just our guest Do I really need to say it? Do I need to say it again, yeah? You better stop the sweet talk And keep your pretty mouth shut Boy, don't call me angel, You ain't got me right Don't call me angel, You can't pay my price Ain't from no Heaven,Yeah, you heard me right Even though you know we fly, Don't call me angel You sizin' up my body, oh yeah Don't you know that I bite when the sun set?  So don't you try come around me Might work with her, but not me, oh yeah Don't you know that I bite when the sun set? Keep my name out your mouth I know what you about So keep my name out your mouth I appreciate the way you watch me, I can't lie I drop it down, I pick it up, I back it off the county line I fell from Heaven, now I'm living like a devil You can't get me off your mind I appreciate the way you want me, I can't lie I drop it low, I back it up, I know you wanna think you're mine Baby, I totally get it, you can't guess so You can't get me off your mind We in it together, but don't call me angel

---

Abandoned building in the middle of nowhere – that wasn’t so unusual, not for a crime scene anyway. This was the kind of place he half expected to be sent to. Not that he particularly wanted to go – another Detective had been on the case this morning, but apparently something a little more interesting had come up for them and so Meares was thrown the file. ‘So… where’s my crime scene?’ in fact, he wasn’t even sure he was in the right place by the fact there appeared to be no officers guarding the scene. Only the tape strung across the front of the building let him know that’s exactly where he wanted to be. Maybe they’d all just been lazy and decided to clock off for the evening? He ducked under the tape and flicked his torch on, which he still needed because the lights in the warehouse were so goddamn dim. But why had everyone left? The sheet was still over the body and to him that only signalled that the scene had yet to be fully processed. ‘Fucking bastards sending me out here…’  He huffed, ‘If they’ve all miked off drinking I swear to GO---D.’ He noticed how he was also alone out here and his partner, Detective Reddick, didn’t want to bother driving across town for it either. “Aw, nah, it’ll only take one of us. Report back..!” Cursing again, Meares approached the victim, he supposed he might have to start this alone. Bending over he grasped the corner of the white sheet delicately – having learned from previous crime scene interactions that sometimes he could be a little too flamboyant in his actions and there’d been a few ‘incidents’ – and stood to height as he pulled the fabric back from the body. Respect the victim - a little easier when he was alone… Meares guessed that sometimes he just liked being a show off and it was an unfortunate trait he couldn’t help. He jumped as he surveyed the body, just one glance over – his stumbled footsteps echoed around the warehouse, adding to the eerie atmosphere. Meares checked his papers, then the body, then the papers again, then the body… That was not a ‘white male, 20s, average build, deep lacerations, bruising and ligature marks’. This was a very naked (but very beautiful) woman; possibly around the same age bracket - but the body itself looked intact. “Okay. Who is out here pranking me now!?” Had someone switched files? Had someone told him the wrong location? No, no, how often did that happen? Everything else about his file was right, apart from the body. Meares tipped his head, tongue between his lips as he drew his eyes back up her. He rolled it with a small tsk sound, and then knew he was smirking. It was probably very inappropriate to think that a potential victim was hot, even when it was as confusing as to why this was the body in front of him. But her form dipped and curved in just the right places, her skin very nearly perfect… Meares wouldn’t have guessed she’d been dead too long, but also didn’t see any way that she could have died. He stepped carefully around her, her eyes may have been closed but she had an Angel face to match her body, Meares thought hard; ‘more importantly, why is she at my crime scene? And if she is here… where is the real body?’ He let his eyes linger on her for a little too long, and felt that guilty blush build up on his cheeks, travelling fairly swiftly to his neck… but the rush of blood travelled a little further than expected. NO. NO. C’mon, man… He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. But found himself suddenly sad that she was the victim; of course, every victim was difficult but as a detective he had to do his best to separate- “Is it her or her body, though? C’mon. You have nooo idea what she’s-” Meares paused, “Aw, great, I’ve finally cracked I’m talking to myself at a crime scene.” He stopped his walk, palm to his forehead for a minute, “Well, nothing like an expert opinion!” He looked her body over again. No, he was fairly certain there was no obvious sign of trauma. Nor anything to indicate any other type of foul play. And it still bothered him that the body was supposed to be male-! ‘It sure does feel like a set up…’ And of course, forensics had all cleared off. He took one more step towards her; maybe Meares just wasn’t thinking clearly enough. ‘Too distracted, obviously.’ But also maybe he just wasn’t looking closely enough. His eyes lingered on her face ‘Who are you? Why are you here? Who did this to you..? C’mon, darling, I need answers…’ Meares didn’t have a chance to think much more than that; her eyes snapped open. If he thought he’d jumped back before, his string of yelled expletives matched the pounding of his heart in his chest as his adrenaline spiked. Yeah, dead bodies did that, occasionally – but dead bodies did not then take dry choked breaths that then became something close to strangled sobs. That didn’t surprise Meares either; she’d practically been declared dead, she was in a middle-of-nowhere warehouse, naked, and a male detective was now standing over her and – by his own admittance – probably looking a little leery. When her eyes focused on him all he saw on her face was terror, she pulled her knees up, arms around her body to cover herself as she attempted to scramble away. Meares threw his hands up, immediately going for his badge, “Hey, hey! It’s okay! It’s okay! My name’s Detective Meares. It’s alright – I’m here to help… I promise… you’re alright now.” He wasn’t sure she trusted him, and her nails dug hard into her skin. Meares shrugged himself out of his jacket, levelling his voice off in hushed tones. “You gave me quite a scare there you know?!” He smiled as he held it out for her, “I’m here to investigate a body, although believe me I’m glad you’re not one… take it. It’s okay… We should probably get you outta here…” He watched her slip it on, buttoning the front up to look as modest as possible, but she still shivered. “You… got a name?” Her eyes raised back to his face, but suddenly she shook her head, “I don’t…” “Remember?” Her nod was certainly sad and he didn’t want her to panic and spiral, but anything he could get now would aid his case greatly, “Do you remember anything? Why you’re here, what happened? Anything about who did this? What about your clothes honey, do you know what you were wearing?” She continued to shake her head, and Meares certainly didn’t want to stress her out any more than he had to. “Okay, it’s okay, this happens. I’m sure it’ll come to you. It’s all going to be fine. But, I should really get you over to a hospital.” “I don’t-” “Honey it’s procedure, I don’t have much of a choice,” he held his hand out for her, “you’re safe with me. No one is going to hurt you.” She placed her hand in his delicately, and Meares felt like he was going on some kind of power trip, but not a bad kind of trip; she trusted him. He was going to protect her now, that was his duty. He pulled her up, trying to keep his eyes on her face. “Thank you.” “Hey, we’re not there yet, you can thank me later. Let’s make sure you’re all okay, right now. Come on, I’ll get you to the car and get you warmed up.” He didn’t touch her as he led her to it, opening the door; Meares would put the heat on for her, he’d pull up to the hospital and they could do tests and maybe he’d get some more evidence from her… And she’d remember too, once she was over the shock, he was sure. He slid his mobile out of his pocket, calling his partner as he jogged around to the driver’s side of the car, indicated that he should meet Meares at the hospital and they could figure it out from there. The detective paused, looking back at the building for just a moment as he opened the door… There was just once problem he couldn’t quite figure out here. “Where the fuck is my actual body, though?!”

** You kept glancing across to the detective as he sped towards the hospital, and you did mean that – Meares was running every light and had his blue lights flashing. He looked on the verge of his 40’s, messy greying black hair and piercing blue eyes – though the true colour seemed fleeting as they changed with his emotions. And those were all over the place right now, that much was obvious. Although he appeared to be being the gentleman, sometimes he couldn’t help but look over at you – and his glances to your body weren’t very fleeting, either. In a normal situation you supposed you would be flattered, but right now you were having doubts you could trust him to be taking you where he said he was. ‘No… He’s a detective. He surely wouldn’t take advantage of that?’ or, maybe he would; how much did you know about Meares anyway? Maybe not a lot; but he was very easy to read on the surface so you didn’t think that figuring him out was going to be much of a challenge. Eventually you started seeing the Hospital signs and could breathe a real sigh of relief; okay… you could trust him. Upon pulling up you noticed several other police vehicles waiting around outside – all with their lights also flashing. You gasped and visibly shrank back in your seat; Meares turned to you. “Don’t worry, I called for backup, they’re good guys. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He opened his car door. “I’ll be very quick, okay, just wait here. We’ll get you checked up.” You reached for his hand before he had a chance to leave and held him there for a minute, Meares thought that you might be about to thank him, but that wasn’t what came out of your mouth: “Y/N.” “…What?” “…My name. You asked my name.” You found yourself taken aback by how gentle and sweet his smile was, “Y/N, you remembered… That’s good progress. Real good progress.” His large hand enveloped yours for a second, “Excellent! Now just, wait here, the hospital will help you out!” By the time Detective Meares exited the car and found his partner he was panicking again, “God damn, Meares-! What the hell is going on!” “You tell me! They send me to a crime scene where somebody is supposed to have been cut through, and I find a live woman there? What happened to all the investigators!? Anyway, that isn’t the point, she’s sitting in my car, I don’t know who she is – she’s barely remembered her first name – she doesn’t know how she got there and she’s half naked! And that’s only cuz she has my jacket! Who does that to a girl and leaves her in the middle of a crime scene!?” Reddick wiggled his eyebrows, “Naked ehhhhhh?!” Meares immediately hit him, “No! She’s a victim, quite possibly a witness once we get through to her!” Although his face burned, it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought the same thing. “…Well they knew someone would find her in a crime scene?” “Logical if it was accidental but then evidence has been moved, where’s the logic there, huh?” “Maybe forensics has the body.” “…Then why send me with the damn report like a body is there?” “Because they don’t like you, Meares?” “Fuck that. No wonder this department is a laughing stock…” He sighed angrily, “Look, if we have the body, great, but someone has tampered with that scene, and there’s either a secondary scene for her, or new forensic evidence at this one. Get down there with some people and figure it out.” His partner groaned, “Why me!?” “Because I’M staying with the victim for questioning, and hospital test results. I found her, her mind is clearly fragile, right now I am the familiar face-!” “Shouldn’t you be telling the department all this?” Meares glared at him, “Quit whining! Sure, I’ll do it. Can you please get down there – I really don’t want to leave her alone too long!” “Fine… fine, I’m going, but then get them to come straight out to me.” Reddick peered around his friend, “She’s a good-looking girl.” “Y-Yeah.” Meares also turned on the spot, you were looking at the hospital nervously, chewing your lip, “She is.” “And you’ve seen her naked.” There was a waiver of amusement in the other Detective’s voice, Meares turned back to him, snapping: “Will you get out of here!” ** Meares hung around in the hospital as long as he could before they forced him to leave to conduct their tests. Not before he took your hands and promised you he’d be back as soon as they let him. You did trust him, you knew that already – right now he seemed like the only person you could trust; and he’d brought you to a hospital and he trusted them to take care of you. You took a deep shaky breath as he let you go, but you knew everything was going to be okay. Once outside he called his superiors to tell them the news. That he’d found a secondary victim and that Reddick was back at the scene to retrieve any other evidence – luckily that was met positively and a forensics team was dispatched. Although Meares did mutter something about lack of communication under his breath. He had to voice his concern now: “There were no police or detectives on the scene – things have been moved, or must be missing. Someone got a second body in there between them packing up and me arriving. And conveniently no one was around to see anything!? And if I just missed them, then I’d say the killer was watching us, or the building. You have the body right-!?” “Yes. Meares, don’t you worry about that.” “Why send me with paper work?! This all seems fairly suspicious to me!” He was rambling and he knew that he probably shouldn’t have let that become more than just a thought, but Meares couldn’t help it. “You’re not shouting conspiracy, Meares?” “Are you giving me reason to?” There was silence for a moment, before a heavy sigh, “We’ll put you on the case team, see what you can get from our live victim.” “Thank you, Sir. They’re going to call me when the tests are finished.” With that they both hung up, but Meares couldn’t help but think that something was going on: after all, he wouldn’t exactly have called that answer straight. Much more like a bribe not to mention it. Someone isn’t saying something Meares… Watch your back… Was the only conclusion he could draw, dropping his mobile into his pocket he leant his head back against the waiting room wall and closed his eyes. He’d figure it out; that was his job. *** He was woken by a nurse, who led him into a back room. “Well, it’s all fairly conclusive Detective.” “I do like easy.” Meares grinned, but she didn’t find his joke attempt amusing, so he cleared his throat, “What happened to her?” “A fairly heavy dosage of sedative. Ketamine.” “She was drugged? That makes sense… isn’t that like a date rape drug?” “Correct. Although the rape kit has come back negative. And she didn’t ingest it, it was injected into her.” “Someone really knew what they were doing.” She nodded, “She’s not a regular user?” “No. No recent tracks or scars in her skin, she’s clean apart from this.” Meares nodded, mulling the information over, “You say fairly heavy… enough for the memory loss she’s experiencing? There’s also gotta be a reason why I didn’t realise she was alive, right? But Ketamine elevates heart rate?” “In small doses – but this wasn’t a small does, Detective. As for her memory, I wouldn’t say so but it could be a stress reaction, we don’t know what else happened to her tonight, or at any other point. It doesn’t have to be related to the drug.” “I guess I’ll only find out when her memory returns.” “Yes, but she’s doing very well, she’s certainly open to talking to you – in fact she asked for you.” “No doubt, do you think she’s ready for questions?” “Go easy on her, Detective.” “Oh, I promise.” Meares nodded, and he meant it, “Just one last thing. I found her at a crime scene, we had a body that had been almost completely lacerated. When I turn up on the scene her body is in the same place. Could… could it have killed her?” “Any sedative in a high amount could yes, but not the amount in her. Perhaps it is only to sedate the victims until the killer is ready to…” the nurse paused, not willing to spout conjecture, “I will say this, at least, she’s very, very lucky you found her Detective. Less she become just like your body.” “On that, I’m sure we can all agree.” When Meares reappeared in the room that you’d been set up in, your heart couldn’t help but give a flutter of excitement – he surely was a very attractive man, and kind too, although you weren’t sure if you could call him your knight in shining armour. A knight in one-hell-of-a-suit, maybe. Though you noticed his shirt was untucked and his tie a little more slacked than it had been previously. You were dressed in a hospital gown now, but you were still clutching his jacket. His scent was unfamiliar to you, but it was one you liked. Meares sat next to you, once again taking your hand in his; you thought your pulse might run wild and suddenly felt light headed – but you controlled it. “How are you feeling?” “Alright, considering what happened… And thanks to you, god knows what would have happened if-” He stilled you, “Hey, you don’t need to think about that. Sounds like you were on one hell of a trip!” the grin indicated he had just cracked a joke, although your laugh was more embarrassed than anything else, “I… suppose.” “I’m sorry-” His eyes left yours, “I have… never been too good with my comedic timing. I wanted to ask though, Y/N, if you’d be up for answering some questions of mine?” You weren’t sure how much help you’d be, but you certainly wanted to help him. “Of course, Meares, anything.” Anything. His heart almost skipped at that, heat rushing back to places it had no business being. Anything was a big word, and he could think of plenty of things he wanted that were certainly not appropriate to bring up right now! He took a slow breath, c’mon. Be professional! For once! “Well, hey, we have your name now at least. And I have a little data on you from the hospital – with your consent to use it, of course. So, I know your address, we can get you back home, maybe that’ll help too.” Yes, he had your name, and you certainly liked the way he said it. “Oh, of course, use whatever will help your case.” Meares nodded gently, “Well, let’s start simple, do you remember what you were wearing?” “Uhm. Yes.” Although you chewed your lip, blushing – and he caught the red. “It’s okay, it stays in this room.” “Just a short black dress, off shoulder, low cut. Maybe even very low cut. Small split up the side… I remember… I remember thinking that I had to wear my sexiest dress. That was very important.” He raised an eyebrow, “Hot date?” “I-I don’t think so.” Although maybe you’d count this… interview… “Shoes?” “Good heels, yes. But also black, nothing fancy. Uhm, some… obscure brand that you only find in stores like T.K.Maxx…” “So we’re looking for a dress and heels. That’s good, you’re doing great.” He squeezed your hand, “Anything else?” You shook your head, “No, I… I wasn’t wearing-” “Oh. Oh, no, that’s- That’s okay… Dress, heels. We’re hoping your items are at a secondary crime scene. So, any detail is good. Do you remember anything, about where you were?” “…Some crowded part of town. I know, that doesn’t help any but…” “Well, do you have any idea what time? We have plenty of ways of figuring out where – sounds like you’re heading for a night out.” “Yeah, uh, 9:30, maybe closer to 10?” You scrunched your face, “That’s habitual. I don’t think I was meeting someone…” “Well, there’s security footage in the busy parts of town as you can imagine, so, I’ll get a team working on that.” “Thank you.” You took his other hand, and instinct laced your fingers with his, “Meares, I… I don’t know what I would have done if-” “I said don’t think on it. You’re safe. Keep moving forward, okay? Well, okay, maybe any information you do remember would still be good!” You giggled, then gathered his jacket and held it out for him, “And for this, especially.” “Oh!” He looked a little bashful for a second, “It’s not anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.” “But it was you.” There was another silence of understanding as you looked into each other’s eyes; his really did change just like weather. “No…” His tone was quiet, and he pushed it back at you, “Keep it. It looks good on ya.” “Y-You think?” “Mhm.” That small smirk was playful, and made more than just your stomach flutter. Oh… “Well, I guess I should thank you once more, detective.” “Don’t mention it… Just keep talking, maybe that’ll trigger something.” He had the right idea, but for the investigation it proved rather fruitless. Eventually he stopped you, just because you were getting so worked up about it not being useful. But he did learn a little bit about your life, even the most random of details helped Meares build up a picture of you, and that could really help him figure out the ‘why you’. It wasn’t necessarily the same person that had done this to you as had killed the first victim, but if it was there could be a connection somewhere. Perhaps a crime of opportunity, but that was down to Meares and his detective skills to figure out. Some details that you could remember were patchier than others, and as you struggled with the want to give him more information you became less forthcoming with anything you thought was unusable. Meares had taken notes and finally pocketed his notebook. “Y/N, I promise you, everything you’ve told me is important. It helps us build a profile of the person we need to catch too. Maybe there’ll be similarities between you and our victim. Trust me, in an investigation like this no detail is useless or too insignificant. Everything counts. And you’re brave for going through this with me.” He stood, leaning forward he kissed your forehead and you gasped, making him think that once again he’d screwed up professionally. Though Meares was hardly sure he was thinking professionally at the moment; you were a nice girl. Someone he’d actually want to hang out with… that wasn’t just your body talking to him, although that was a somewhat delightful image still burned into his head. He would do anything to bring the person who had done this to justice, he vowed that to himself. “Stay in the hospital tonight, just make sure you’re okay and I’ll come back in the morning, alright?” You nodded, “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, Meares.” Today, by the looks of his watch, but it was still dark. Not tomorrow until you’ve been to bed-! was a rule he liked living by. “Goodnight, Y/N. Try to get some rest.” You smiled, watching him leave, and wishing he didn’t have to go: “Goodnight Detective, you too.” *** Meares did turn up at the hospital the next day for you, and seen as they were good with discharging you, he offered to drive you home. At first you thought that would be fine but, under Meares’ gaze in his car, this time your heart kept running away with your thoughts. He really was gorgeous, and now you were seeing him in natural lighting those blue eyes were even more stunning. Even when you stole glances at him and traced that side profile… Should you be thinking this way about him? Meares was supposed to be investigating what had happened to you, after all. You doubted he’d be able to have a relationship with you; not when the investigation was open. He’d noticed these shy little glances of yours and could barely hold that smirk back, you must have been checking him out. Meares was fine with that of course – and this morning you’d walked out of hospital with his jacket on, and he wasn’t reserved about admiring you in it, especially now sitting in his car again. He knew your address but he was certainly taking the scenic route, Meares’ drive was leisurely at most. Once he did pull up at your home, you were both clearly disappointed. You hesitated, staring up at your front door. Thinking he should probably be being the gentleman right now, Meares rounded the vehicle to open the car door for you – but you just kept staring forward. “I don’t want to go.” Your voice was timid, but he still caught it. “What? Why? You’re home.” “I don’t feel safe here. Not alone.” You shook your head, seemingly shrinking back into your seat, “I can get people posted, or watching the house, if you’re not comfortable.” You shook your head again, “What if whoever did this is watching the house-!? What if they’re waiting for me to be alone, Detective?!” Meares opened his mouth to try to calm you down, but this time his joke faltered. He couldn’t forgive himself if something happened before he arranged for someone to watch out for you. “Y/N… I don’t know what else I can really do with you.” Your big eyes looked up to his, pleading, “Can’t I stay with you? For a little? Until I feel safe again.” He almost did a double take, and hoped he looked level and not like he was about to punch the air – a little like what was happening in his head – “…I don’t know if my supe’s are gonna like that. But I can sure ask. They might pull me off the case to do it. But your safety should be paramount, and you’re a key witness. It’s just-” You knew exactly what he was getting at but tilted your head, “Just what, detective?” Meares for once opted not to run his mouth, and swallowed thickly eyes flicking down your body again – he hoped inconspicuously – “…It’s nothing. Don’t worry. I’ll call them. I have a spare room, don’t you want to collect some things first… though?” So, Meares found himself dropping you at his house. Although he didn’t see how this was helpful for you, considering he still had to leave you alone and work on the case at the precinct. He guessed no one was going to think of finding you here. And, obviously, he was secretly elated… Even though Meares guessed he was about to get heavily reprimanded for this. And he was laid into quite hard, despite his – fairly calm – explanation as to why. Oh yes, of course he wanted to raise his voice, yell about it to be heard – but he didn’t think that would help him in keeping you at his. Upon offering to hand the case to someone else in exchange for making sure you were truly safe, his superior immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you’ve done the hard work.” “I don’t want to compromise anything!” “You should have thought about that before you agreed to let her stay.” “So pull me off, like I said. You have my write up… She’s scared, she doesn’t remember things, I found her… I just think giving her some familiarity and comfort right now is a good idea.” “Familiarity? In a house she’s never seen before?” “You… know what I mean.” “Just, be sensible, Meares.” “Yes Sir.” “You do know how to do that, don’t you?” Meares made the mistake of laughing, and it wasn’t met well, before he turned serious: “Y-Yes. Of course.” The case itself brought about good progress very quickly, with all your files back from the hospital and his own notes – coupled with what they knew about the victim, and witness interviews begun, the team were beginning to shape a picture of events. Fingerprints and DNA helped narrow the list of people who would have been around the warehouse recently, and soon interviewing witnesses became interviewing suspects. Your dress and shoes had been found well within a mile radius from the warehouse, and whilst sweeping the areas around, needles – one containing Ketamine – were also recovered with the DNA of both you and the victim. General consensus was the killer had tampered with the crime scene. That raised questions of its own; why, and how had they been able to? Meares believed that’d lead to some internal investigation – and he was still mindful to be cautious around others in the department - but right now catching this person was paramount. *** Your relationship continued to grow. Although Meares was very careful with what he told you. You understood why, this was his job on the line after all. But of course he kept you updated on your own case; he was determined to catch the person who did this. It was good to see how joyous he became the more information he gathered, and how Meares would always announce ‘we’re close!’ if you asked for an update. You weren’t sure exactly how true that was, considering he’d been saying that for weeks, but you couldn’t help but be happy that he was happy. Detective Meares made you feel safe, safer than you had been for a long time. And as you started to remember little pieces that would help him, Meares got excited to grab his little recorder to make sure he had everything right. You continued to get closer, and you were sure by now you’d outstayed your welcome at his place and you should be heading back home – but neither of you raised the subject of you leaving, and he never asked if you were safe enough to go home, even though it was obvious by your attitude and body language that you were. It started slow – to build to something more than the victim and the detective who had saved your life (probably), you were sitting on the couch together watching TV. Not even a movie, just news reports, but you leaned into him, head on his shoulder. For a moment Meares tensed – not in an uncomfortable, ‘I don’t want this’ way, but in a ‘is this really happening?!’ way. Meares didn’t dare breathe for a minute, and yet as if to prove how much you meant it, you cuddled into him a little more, soaking up his bodily warmth. Meares’ smirk was a little too smug, but you were smiling too, and your cheeks began to hurt as his arm snaked around your shoulders and he pulled you a little closer. Meares knew he probably shouldn’t be doing this. But, fuck it, when had he ever really listened to rules and procedure? You were beautiful, no, you were gorgeous. Wasn’t it the first thing he’d noticed about you anyway? He pulled your body into his, hand settling on your waist; and you didn’t complain. Maybe Meares was right, maybe you wanted him as bad too. Was that a good thing? Well, he knew he would certainly choose to believe it was.

 Pretty soon that dynamic changed, and cuddling on the couch turned into making out on the couch. It didn’t take much persuasion; he’d been staring at you like that ever since he’d first met you and you were certainly hot on him too. As you both leaned closer Meares tilted his head, smirking “Whatcha thinking about Angel Face?” And how you almost returned his smirk as you looked deep into those ever-changing blue eyes, “Kissing you.” Angel Face - That was his nick-name for you, even if he wouldn’t admit how he came to that conclusion, and it just stuck. You soon found out that if you ran your fingers through his hair Meares would groan into the kiss - and it was no wonder that he always liked his hair being messed up. Clearly it was even better for him when you did it. Professionalism be damned, the detective was not about to resist you. And he’d offered to be off the case, fair and square, he didn’t see how they could blame him now. Especially when you looked like that.

Being with him was just so easy; old enough to know better, young enough to still be playful - but he could bounce back from any fuck ups, a little headstrong and rough around the edges… No one was ever perfect though. A good man, even if he spent his time making inappropriate comments or jokes - just as often in content as in his timing. But all of that just made you love him more, that attractive face of his (not to mention his voice) was the best bonus. It only made you wonder what was under his clothes… after all, he already knew what was under yours. And you were fairly certain that was an image burned into his head.

This meant Meares had a particular way of staring at you; you wouldn’t call it predatory, but it had that kind of effect on you. Your pulse ran and your eyes widened and sometimes you struggled to breathe against the weight of his stare; drawing his eyes slowly up and down your body, tilting himself to get better views of you. The way his lips parted and he ran his fingertips over them, or sometimes his tongue before he smirked. Of course he wondered when he’d get to see you naked again. You weren’t sure if that made you more or less scared of it being an eventuality. Sometimes you shied away from him completely. Sometimes you had the confidence but found yourself unable to speak it.

Today was not either of those. Today the stars aligned all from a seemingly innocent sentence. If Meares hadn’t wondered aloud if you were ready to return back to your own house then you probably wouldn’t have had the opportunity to take his hand and turn him back to you. You found the words to be honest: “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to be alone. Or without you. Again.” For the first time Meares saw something in you that he hadn’t before. Whilst the sentence had been said in all innocence there was a wildness in your eyes. An untameable force that somehow you were holding back. You very nearly stole his breath with that look alone. He kissed you hard and fast; slipping out of his own jacket before reaching out to pull your hips to his.

When he broke away from you, the look on your face was of slight wonder. Yet that wildness was still there - and the trembling he felt under his fingertips was not because you were nervous and scared. It was because of what you were holding back: this didn’t match the personality that you’d been showing off to him; shy and sweet and delicate. Meares wondered which was real, this or the girl he thought you were just pretending to be. Cupping your face in his large hands his next kiss was delicate, lips barely touching yours. “Don’t hold back now Angel Face.”

He found himself yanked back to you almost angrily by his tie, the look in your eyes not hiding now. Oh, you didn’t intend to.

 ***

 He was falling for you. And hard. Meares didn’t want to call it love yet, but he thought it could be. He wasn’t sure he was simply in lust with you - but he’d keep that option on the table. You were always lingering in the back of his mind, and now he knew what your sex was like you weren’t just an image of a naked body, but a whole experience. And every so often you’d use this to your advantage, and send him pictures that made him smirk and text eagerly back: ‘Bad girls get put in handcuffs, you know?’

 Of course, all this had to happen right around the time of the major case break through. And not a breakthrough Meares particularly wanted. One day he was called down to the forensics room, and was faced with a mix of items of both yours and the first victims. They had been through everything again, and again, and again and nothing. Meares hoped that today was the day they’d finally find something that would help. “Detective, we will have to simply call it.” “We can’t give up on them! The killer is still out there!” “There’s nothing more we can do. Nothing - if we go on evidence alone now, logically there’s conclusions that must be drawn.” Meares sighed and placed his hands flat on the table, stretching his body back behind him; “Give it to me again.” “There’s NO other DNA in that warehouse, on her clothes, nothing.” “No other person?” “None.” “No evidence that anyone else was involved?” Meares wanted there to be another angle, something beyond what he felt – with dread – that this was all building to. “No. And we have tested and retested everything.” As you well know, this seemed to say. “…What about our first body?” “Well, here’s the interesting thing.” “What?” And why hadn’t this ‘interesting thing’ been raised!? Meares knew he sounded more annoyed than he did elated at this potential breakthrough. “Same sedative.” “So what, they were coming back for her?” That didn’t make things any better. He certainly was glad he’d found you if that was the conclusion. There was awkward hesitation, before the technician cleared his throat: “…Prints on the syringe are hers.” Meares raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding: “They… forced her to do it to… herself?” “Meares…” The look was pointed, “You know what the evidence is saying.”

Meares set his tablet up on the kitchen side, staring at it hard, before taking a stylus and trying to connect all the dots virtually. He’d been trying to do this in the office all day - and he almost had it but there were blanks that he was drawing that he still didn’t understand. They could easily have forced you into it, he doubted they’d forced you to inject someone else. But he suspected they could have had you self-inject. That’s what Meares wanted, but that wasn’t what the evidence was saying. That was never what the evidence was saying.

He had to be sure, and he’d found the security tapes of the warehouse opposite: terrible quality of course, and grainy. They’d already been dismissed by the team as being insufficient to gather anything from. But if you looked hard enough, if you knew what you were looking for, you’d find it. And he unfortunately did. This figure that he was seeing was you. It had to be you - it wasn’t like he could see your face, but he was living with you. He knew your body, he knew the way walked, the attitude you put into steps. This wasn’t that shy act either, this was careful and calculating. The person he knew, sure, but there was a horrendous chill that ran up his spine. Like he was watching some kind of horror movie. No one else went in or out of the warehouse after you. Then you came back out - he fast forwarded all the police investigators turning up - but you returned later… then nothing, until he showed up. And Meares knew the rest.

 “Oh. SHIT.” His head bent forward and he rested it on the cold side. It’s you. It had to be you. Meares couldn’t help but admit his heart was a little broken, that he felt a little nervous and sick. Where were you? Were you here? A killer in his house; someone he trusted, he had feelings for, that he’d told about his life. Was everything you’d told him about yourself a lie? You didn’t remember anything, because there was nothing to remember. You’d killed someone, drugged yourself to make yourself look like a victim… watched the warehouse while the police did their work… but why? The why had him so confused. And it was a question he couldn’t answer. Meares wouldn’t put you in handcuffs until he had the whole story.

 But he heard the sound behind him all too late, and as he straightened to react you grabbed him. Meares didn’t really have time to struggle, you’d been watching him - and bless his heart he was struggling. With the truth - but he didn’t know the whole truth just yet. You placed your hand over his mouth to stop him from crying out and sunk that needle in; no hesitation in injecting the heavy sedative into his veins. “Figured it out yet… Detective?”

 ***

 Meares took a little longer to come around from the sedative than you’d have liked. No doubt it was the same one that you had used on yourself and your victim. Damn did he feel like an idiot. And drowsy. And have one hell of a pounding headache.

Didn’t take very many of his detective skills to figure out he was tied to a chair, hands bound too. He thought back to that first description; bruising and ligature marks. Looking around it seemed a little like he’d been put back in another warehouse. Though this one looked a little cleaner than the one he’d been investigating. Eventually his eyes fell on the figure approaching him; and Meares glared.

“You?!? It was you all along?!?” He sounded much more hurt than he wanted to, “Why would you do that?!?” You stopped a few feet from him, hands in your pockets, head tipped as you surveyed his body. It was slightly gratuitous, but he could hardly complain about it after what he’d been doing to yours. Meares supposed that he should be thankful he wasn’t naked. Then again...

You took a breath, and once again answered too honestly. “For you.” Meares squinted, disbelieving: “What the fuck!?” That made no sense. “Are you kidding!?” You shook your head, “Detective Meares I’ve been watching you for a very, very long time. And is it any wonder, just look at you.” You paused, biting your lip seductively. He hated to admit it was almost working, “...What better way to finally meet you? And the fact that you were the first man on the scene for me. Couldn’t have worked out better.” He swallowed, backing up as far as the chair and restraints would allow: “There’s better ways to get my attention.” “Oh, but it did... didn’t it. Get your attention.” You took a step back, but your eyes didn’t leave his, “Or I did.”

Meares face was illuminated fairly well by the dim lighting, and his cheeks flushed. Yes - but he’d only admit that in his head right now. Of course you’d caught his attention. Look at you. You were gorgeous.  ‘She’s a fucking killer though, Meares, c’mon!’ Although he wasn’t really listening to that reasoning anymore as his eyes flicked up and down your body once more. He found himself struggling against the restraints. You smirked, “I wouldn’t do that, they’re your handcuffs.” Meares did the unexpected and smirked back, with a raised eyebrow, “Little kinky?” You gave him a look of amusement, but disappeared for a moment into the gloom. That made him panic a little and strain against the cuffs and binds again. No luck.

When you returned you placed a stool in front of his chair and sat opposite him, twisting the keys to his cuffs around your finger. “You want out?” Meares stared at the keys for a long while, before looking back to your face, then the keys, and then your face once more. When that gorgeous blue returned to the keys, Meares took a deep breath; he wouldn’t lie, he was in two minds here. ‘What’s she gonna do if I say yes, actually this is weirdly turning me on. If it weren’t for the context I’d actually quite like her to be in charge if we’re gonna fuck?...’ His eyes returned slowly to your face but you recognised that swallow; you knew exactly where Meares’ mind was at and what you were doing to him. That man was craving you, even now. “What are you gonna do to me? You gonna kill me now?” “Nothing you won’t like.”

A shiver of excitement ran his spine and he cursed himself, the widening of your smirk meant you’d seen it, and the way his pupils dilated. “I want answers.” “I don’t think you do. You want means and motive. I saw opportunity and your jurisdiction.” “You drugged yourself, stripped naked and… no maybe that was for me.” You enjoyed the way that blush rose on his face again. “Yes, Although I wasn’t really meant to inject quite so much sedative. I’m sure your labs will figure I have enough immunity to have got back to the crime scene after stripping off before it kicked in. And yes, of course for you.” You tilted your head, arms folded for a second, “I didn’t meant to go that hard; and it did affect my memory momentarily.” “You’ve… also obstructed the course of justice.” “There was no attack for me to remember.” “And the guy you… lacerated?” You shrugged, “Just some guy.” “...You- he was a random vic?” “Not entirely, but I’m sure you know by now he won’t be missed.” “You can’t just… do things like that.” Meares’ look was hard, his tone disgusted. “No, but I did.” “You’re psycho-!” “Little emotional there, detective.” He scoffed, “You expect me not to be?!” His eyes narrowed and for a moment hurt genuinely flickered across his face: “I can’t believe I fell for you, can’t believe I slept with you. Holy shit what have I got myself into-!?” “I just told you…” Your voice softened, and you leant forward, hands on his knees you pushed his legs apart. That shade of red on his face got deeper as his eyes widened: “So what, we’re gonna hate fuck now?” Your head tipped and you said it almost sweetly, “Not exactly.”

For a moment you left your stool and sat between his feet, arms up over his left thigh you leant against leg, eyes almost pure and innocent. “Oh. FUCK!” He had to voice something in realisation, after all. “Baby…” You ran your fingers up his inner thigh and loved the way he tensed under you, “Just let me take care of you.” “Y-Y/N…” His breathing hitched, should he want this? Shouldn’t he watch this? This was certainly going to fuck up his case. If it wasn’t already fucked. “You’re so god damn sexy when you’re frustrated…” Your voice purred and his body threatened to shudder once more. Meares felt himself getting hot, and that feeling was very quickly travelling down his body. “Geez, will ya just do it?!” His voice a mixture of anguish and yearning. There was underlying lust there too you were certain to capitalise on. You were certain you’d probably let him go; you didn’t want to have to kill him… What he would do to you, you weren’t sure. But you knew the implications of his relationship with you to the case. Well, he had warned them.

 You smiled gently, eager to please, pulling the stool forward with your foot you sat back on it, leaning up to kiss him. “Do you want out of the cuffs?” He thought about his hands in your hair, about the control that would give him. “Mhm…” His voice wavered with what he was trying to hold back, you reached behind him and unlatched them, “Don’t worry, Detective, I trust you…” “I don’t know if I trust you,” then he smirked, “Angel Face.” You tsked him, giving him one last slow kiss, before your hands travelled to his belt, “I probably should have told you not to call me Angel… but that might have given it all away…” “Oh yeah…” Meares groaned at the sound of his zip coming undone and you sank back onto the stool properly. “That woulda done it…” You leant back on his knees, smile playful, “Just relax, Meares. Enjoy yourself.” “I’m not sure I’m gonna call it that right now.” You ran your tongue across your lips to wet them, “We’ll see, Detective… I’m sure you’ll find a way to appreciate this.” “Well…” He breathed deep again as you forced his legs a little wider, bringing his hands around, just itching to tangle in your hair, “Won’t say I won’t love the view…”

---

Cheers guys, I owe ya!  🤣

W O O Y O U N G ⟼ office au

WHERE YOU TWO WERE PAST LOVERS

a/n: my writers drought has ended bois lol

• “B-But sir.”

• “Don’t but sir me.” he wags a finger at you. “You need a vacation, y/n. I can’t have you working night and day coming in here looking like a complete trash bag.”

• you stare at him,

• at your boss in complete and utter disbelief.

• “Excuse me?”

• “Y/n.” Wooyoung shakes me in my chair, not necessarily as aggressive as he did months ago. “I’m saying this as your boss. And not as your past lover—“

• “You mean sex toy.” you correct making him roll his eyes.

• “Whatever you want to classify yourself— fine. I’m saying this so you could get some rest. You work too hard for me.”

• you raise an eyebrow at him.

• knowing Wooyoung for too long.

• you can’t believe he’s being so kind.

• after all,

• he did only use you for sex.

• “Are you sure this isn’t your subtle way of saying you need to get a good fuck and don’t want me around?”

• “Ugh.. yes?”

• Wooyoung feels bad.

• actually feels bad for being THAT guy.

• the guy that fucked you without feelings.

• no strings attached.

• but he just can’t like you like that.

• he’s only seen you as you are.

• his hot-as-fuck secretary with a rather obedient personality.

• “Wooyoung. As much as I appreciate your concern,” you jokingly smile pushing him away. “I don’t mind you finding sexual release elsewhere. I couldn’t care less. What we had is over. Plus, I’m here to work. Not to pine for your dick getting shoved down my throat.”

• he’s always found you quite enticing nonetheless.

• albeit, sometimes infuriating—

• but someone he felt comfortable talking to.

• “But still.” he leans against your desk pen in his mouth and arms crossed over his chest. “You deserve a break.”

• you sigh resting your head on the back of your chair in thought. “Maybe I do.”

• yeah maybe you do.

• work’s been a load.

• so has the overwhelming amount of papers.

• plus...

• Song Mingi has been trying to ask you on a date since last September.

• which he’s been doing for 4 months now.

• “So.. when can I start?”

• your vacation’s great.

• you think that maybe Wooyoung’s right.

• that you really did need this shit.

• how nice it felt to sleep and drink without knowing you’d have to wake up early the next morning.

• “Hey beautiful.”

• you lean against the doorframe smiling at a beaming Mingi.

• “You’re here early.”

• “Wanted to take you out for breakfast too.” he smiles as you let him in. “Did I bother you?”

• “No.” you sigh. “But I’ve gotta get these reports to Wooyoung before he has a panic attack at the office.”

• Mingi was his best friend.

• this could end bad or good honestly.

• but let’s hope Mingi doesn’t find out.

• let’s hope he doesn’t already know.

• “That’s okay. I’ll go with you. How does that sound?”

• terrible.

• “Perfect.”

• you think Mingi is too though.

• he’s such a good guy.

• not competitive and far from what Wooyoung wants from you.

• he even holds your hand the whole time on the way to work.

• talking endless amounts about his work travels.

• knowing you’d be interested.

• the employees at work seemed to be stunned by Mingi’s arrival.

• another CEO hand holding with you.

• none other than a notorious best friend of your own boss.

• “Woo, I have those reports you needed me to bring.”

• “Oh thank god, you’re here. I was about to— Mingi?”

• Wooyoung’s disheveled.

• looked like a whole trash bag without you working at your desk.

• and yeah he’s regretted ever giving you the vacation.

• wishing you’d still be his eye candy and doing half his job for him.

• “What are you doing here man? I haven’t seen you in a hot minute.”

• you look between the two.

• nerved by the sweet interaction.

• you don’t know why.

• but it felt like an ex boyfriend facing your new secret boyfriend who also happened to be his best friend.

• when that’s not even close to being the case.

• when you shouldn’t care at all what Wooyoung feels about it.

• “I’m taking y/n out on a date today. Been trying to ask her but she’s been so busy, she didn’t have the time.”

• Wooyoung stops.

• feels like hell froze over at his reply.

• ice cold.

• untamed by his jealousy.

• “W-What?”

• you hand Wooyoung the papers you need to drop off and pull Mingi away before he notices.

• not sure why he reacted like that either.

• “Um. We should go, huh, Mingi?”

• Mingi smiles at you and returns his hand in yours, eyes gazing down at you fully blasted.

• “You hungry that much?”

• you forget that Wooyoung’s even there.

• smiling at Mingi as he holds your hand.

• cause this was on the list of what you’ve been needing on a vacation.

• someone who would actually treat you like a woman and not like a toy.

• but Wooyoung’s about to combust.

• thinking he’s going to kill Song Mingi.

• and he can’t explain why just—

• can’t stand the fact another man has you wrapped around his finger like that.

• not when it should be him.

• “Why didn’t you fucking tell me Mingi’s been trying to snatch y/n all this time, San?”

• his adjacent friend who stopped by chuckles. “Hello to you too, cock sucker. What stick went up your ass that you have to yell this early in the morning?”

• he pulls at his hair, elbows on his desk when he thinks about it again. “The fact that Mingi walked into my goddamn office this morning. Hand holding my secretary for fucksake! That’s what stick got shoved up my ass. And that you and the guys have probably been planning my demise.”

• San rolls his eyes. “You’re lucky I haven’t told them about your scandalous affairs with her in the first place. What’s it matter to you anyway? You just wanted a good fuck from her, right?”

• wrong.

• but he thinks he knows San’s right for the most part.

• “Right! But that’s why. I can’t just share my sex toy.”

• San dead pans at Wooyoung.

• disgusted that his best friend was a complete idiot.

• “Has it ever occurred to you that y/n is a human being with feelings? And that she has all the right to date Mingi if she wants? And that you shouldn’t give a shit for that reason alone if that’s the one you’re gonna come up with.”

• Wooyoung’s a jackass.

• for not only using you as a sex toy.

• but for fucking around with your feelings.

• “Shit.”

• San sighs. “Yeah shit. Mingi is the last person in our group who’d ever use her the way you did. So if that’s what you’re worried about then—“

• it’s not though..

• it’s really not.

• “Would you believe me if I told you I liked her? For more than just sex. That I see her for more than just that? That I actually like talking to her, being with her 24/7. And that I don’t always want to pin her to her desk every time I see her?”

• “No.” the older shakes his head with a faint smirk. “Absolutely not. Because if I were you, instead of sitting here moping about someone else getting your girl, I would run out of here and tell her that. Change her mind about you before she actually does fall for someone else.”

• Wooyoung nods at San. “Thanks man.”

• “Go get her tiger.”

• San’s smiling like the little devil he is as Wooyoung runs out.

• shaking his head in victory.

• before texting Mingi,

• destroy-man-whore-Wooyoung is a go. I repeat, mission destroy-man-whore-Wooyoung is a go.

• “Everything alright?” you ask Mingi when he receives a text, mouth partly stuffed.

• he smirks at his phone before smiling at you. “Peachy keen, baby girl.”

• you eye him weirdly and think..

• Mingi’s been off since the office.

• staring at his phone for the past hour.

• he’s been nice and all but you can’t help but feel he’s lacking.

• like, the teasing you get from Wooyoung.

• the jokes.

• the undoubtedly horrid insults.

• you enjoyed those.

• because it made the relationship entertaining despite the intention.

• Wooyoung was just someone you felt comfortable with.

• maybe more than just a fwb or a boss.

• “Mingi, do you think I’m dateable?”

• he swings your arms from side to side, enjoying the small crowd of people as you walked back to your place.

• “Course.” he acclaims. “You’d be lucky to be anyone’s girlfriend.”

• “Is that why you’ve been trying to date me?”

• he chuckles at that with a nod. “I guess you can say that.”

• you do think Mingi’s not right for you.

• that maybe..

• you need someone with Wooyoung’s caliber to make your life as coordinated as you make his.

• as his secretary it was something you had to do.

• now it was just..

• something you want to do.

• you feel a weird ache in your chest when you think you want Wooyoung to return it.

• that not in a million years would you expect to think you wanted Wooyoung like that.

• “Mingi.. I had fun on our date and everything. But I think— OH MY GOD WOOYOUNG WHAT THE HELL?!”

• you pull at your boss’ sleeve shirt.

• in attempt to get him away from Mingi after he lands a solid punch on the side of his jaw.

• the older looking at the smaller stature man in shock.

• “Okay.” Mingi cranes his neck. “Okay pipsqueak. We get it. You don’t want me to date y/n but don’t ever fucking punch me again.”

• “Then don’t ever fucking lay a hand on her again.”

• you stare in bewilderment.

• fascinated you must admit.

• for Wooyoung’s bravery and possessiveness.

• “What the hell, Wooyoung?”

• “Shut up dumb bitch, I’m trying to be a man right now.”

• you scoff rolling your eyes and let him continue anyway.

• “Okay, now look Mingi, I don’t know if you knew this but me and y/n have been having an implicit relationship—“

• “A sexual relationship that’s clearly over.” you correct making him shove his hand over your mumbling mouth.

• “— yes our relationship and I don’t appreciate you trying to interfere. That only I will be the man to sweep y/n off her feet. Not some gentleman scumbag who’ll treat her like a princess.”

• “Ex-fucking-cuse me?”

• you gargle again when Wooyoung covers your mouth more.

• “I will do whatever it takes to be what this woman wants. Because not only do I love her but I appreciate her with every god damn muscle, fiber, cell, bone in my body and that I’ll give her anything she’ll ever ask for from here on out. So save the effort. I’ll do it for you instead.”

• you’re impressed.

• god forbid Jung Wooyoung has ever been good at the boyfriend department..

• or anything that involved actual romance.

• but you’re touched nonetheless.

• that Wooyoung wanted to do those things for you.

• after claiming you were just a pawn of his sex life.

• “Well.. I think you two definitely need some alone time to talk. And I need some ice for what you did to my jaw. So I’ll leave you to it then, Woo.”

• Mingi flashes you a hinting smile.

• watching him reach for his phone in his front pocket.

• then you realize what he’s actually been doing.

• promising yourself to thank him and whoever was involved for it later.

• “Wooyoung, what the hell was that about?”

• you taunt your boss.

• in the most subtle way possible.

• because he’s someone that you’d spend the rest of your life with.

• as his employee.

• as a fwb.

• as a friend and anything more.

• his girlfriend?

• “You just get me.” Wooyoung completes his thoughts, hand loosely dropping onto your shoulders. “God, y/n. Knowing you would be with another man.. was scary. I thought that it was the sex I liked. That you were so hot and comfortable that I thought that was it. How the hell am I supposed to know I’d fall in love with you?”

• you stare at him.

• lust ridden and tongue tied.

• wondering why you hadn’t realized the same thing.

• “Maybe because you’ve only ever wanted one thing in your life. Sex.”

• “You right.” he agrees with a sigh. “But now that it’s passed, I want something else.”

• you giggle letting him slowly push you into your house, kicking the door closed behind you.

• “Don’t get cheesy on me, Woo.”

• “Just this once, hear me out.”

• you’re breathless as he pins you against the door,

• his hands curling around your waist for the first time in months after you two stopped being lovers.

• face perfectly carved into yours.

• like two pieces of completely different puzzles.

• miraculously fitting together like you two were made for each other.

• “I want you, y/n. Not just for the sex anymore. But for everything you’ve got. Teach me how to love.”

• “You think you could learn that from me?” you playfully cringe, lips playing against his like a fiddle. “Something you could only learn on your own?”

• “Maybe you can’t teach me.” he whispers as he molds his lips with yours. “But you could still try.”

• “I thought this was supposed to be my vacation, Wooyoung?”

• “Okay then.” he hums against your lips in approval. “Let’s make this less work and more pleasure.”

• “I like the sound of that.”

@atinybitofau

here me out, it’s actually a good song okay lol. believe me!

Through The Years (Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark! Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: Enjoy! As always, any feedback is appreciated! Let me know if you want to be tagged! And YES, Bucky makes his first appearance in this chapter. ;)

tags: @the-romanian-is-bae @a-girl-who-loves-disney

tw: catcalling

~~~~~~~~~~~~

LONDON ENGLAND, 1943

“Alright. Howard, Y/N. Welcome to London. In this camp, resides the 107th and 108th infantry regiments. You two will be able to set up your stuff over...”

Peggy thinks for  a second. “Ah! There. It’s Perfect.” She pointed  to a more secluded area of the camp, where you and Howard would be able to set up camp and experiment.

“Thanks, Peggy. We’ll see you later?” You said, turning to Peggy, as Howard unloaded he last of you guys’ things off the plane.

She hugs you. “Of course you will. I’ve got to go check on Steve. He’s got another USO performance tonight, one in Edinburgh, another in Glasgow, and we continue up North. It might be some time before you see me, sadly.”

You frowned. “Well, make sure to write. I couldn’t bear not hearing from you.” 

She gave you a smile and said her goodbyes as she wandered off, looking for Steve. 

“Y/N/N, care to help me with the luggage?” Howard said, already carrying a few suitcases. 

“Of course, Howwie.” As you turned to grab the suitcase the suitcase was already up in the air. 

Frozen in shock you stood there, hoping no one would see. 

“Y/N!! What was that?”

You nervously turned to Howard, ringing your hands. “What was was what, Howwie?” 

He gave you a look. “You know what I’m talking about. We’ll discuss this later.”

You sighed and grabbed the suitcase, a rucksack and another suitcase, following Howard.

~~~~~~~~

After you and Howard set up camp on the clearing, he immediately went out, in search of General Philips.

You sighed. You should’ve told him since the start.

To clear your head, you decided to take a walk a round the camp, to simply familiarize yourself with the place. To clear your head too, that would be nice. 

The men you saw all around the camp were pretty much the same. Drinking, sobbing, sleeping. Oh, and don’t forget the body odor. 

This was not what you were used to, but these men are fighting a war. The least you could do is give them a break. 

“Heyyyyyy pretty lady! C’mere.” you heard a drunker soldier slur out.

You turned and crossed your arms, scoffing. “Excuse me?”

“He said c’mere, lady!” another soldier said from behind him. 

“You is the only lady here, we could pass you around, darlin’ there’s enough of us to go around” the first soldier said.

“No thank you sir, I have enough self-respect and dignity to not be seen with the likes of you.”

The second soldier, his friend, spoke up again. “What’re ya doin’ here anyway? Are’nt you supposed to be in the kitchen?”

You were starting to become scared. “I’m an engineer.  I have no excuse for being in the kitchen.”

“All ladies belong in-”

“HEY! Leave her alone!” the soldier was cut off by a voice. You turned to see, and it was a tall, blue eyed soldier, with hazel-colored hair, and fair skin.

He was tall, he stood straight he wanted to be seen. His crystal blue eyes pierced through the room, but were focused on you. He most definitely stood out from the rest. 

Then it hit you. This man was the mysterious stranger you had seen at the Stark expo a couple of months back. 

He grabbed the soldier by his shirt. “That’s no way to treat a lady. Show some goddamn respect.” he put the soldier down and turned to you.

“I apologize on behalf of my fellow soldier, Miss.” he said, kissing your hand.

You smiled at him, a blush covering your cheeks. “I-It’s ok. I’m used to it, I guess.”

He looked you straight in the eyes this time. “No one should be used to it, Man or Woman.”

“You crossed your arms and looked up at him again; him being much taller. “You got a name, soldier?, or are you just going to remain my knight in shining armor?’

He chuckles. Damn, that laugh could brighten anyone’s day. “I’d rather remain your knight in shining armor, gorgeous. But if ya really wanna know, the name is James Buchanan Barnes. Friends call me Bucky.”

“We’re friends, now?”

“I’d be surprised if we weren’t, doll-face. I think Everyone needs a friend right now.”

He pauses to scan your face. 

“How about it darlin’, you got a name?”

“Y/N. But friends call me Y/N/N.”

By this time, him and you were already walking off to the edge of the forest, not to far where he first found you. You bot sat down on a log.

“Y/N, that’s it? No last name?” he said, in a teasing tone.

You laughed. “Y/N Stark. I know what you’re going to say. I do run Stark Industries with my brother.”

“More like he runs it with you, doll-face. I was at the expo this year. I’ve seen your work. You have a talent.”

You chuckle and blush, breaking eye contact with him. “You are a charmer, Barnes. I got to give you that.”

“Ya know before I left for the war, they used to call me ‘the heart breaker of Brooklyn’” 

“No way Barnes. A guy like you? No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I don’t believe you Barnes” you feigned shock.

“You better!”

“Uh, well, how about you tell me how you became this gorgeous genius engineer, huh?”

You let out a laugh, not holding back this time. “I attended  a boarding school in London, St-martin-the-fields high school, strictly for girls, which is were i met Peggy. I later went on, against my parents wishes, I got a P.H.D in engineering from NYU; graduated early.”

He seems to look at your with pure wonder in his eyes. “Impressive.What after?”

“I became a professor of Engineering at Columbia College, also in New York. My parents didn’t like this, so they sort-of threw me out.”

“I am so sorry doll. No one deserves that, no matter how big their aspirations may be.” he said, laying his hand over yours. 

“The teaching position didn’t last long though, that’s when I lost it and moved in with Howard. And a few years back, we started what today is known as Stark Industries.”

“You continue to impress me with every passing second. What’re you doing on an army camp like this?”

“The SSR was re-tasked by President Roosevelt. We’re bringing the fight to HYDRA. Anyway, enough about me, sport. You practically know me already.”

He told you all about his childhood in Brooklyn, saving Steve from trouble at every corner. 

“Wait, wait. hold the phone. You know Steve, Barnes?”

“Y-yeah, I do. Since we were kids. How do YOU know him?” 

You let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s a story for another time.”

You two talked for hours upon hours, until the night sky got even darker, and all the soldiers had retreated to their tents. He told you about his childhood with Steve, how his mother would scold him as a child for stealing a cookie from the jar, his cherry red bike when he was a teen. He told you about his sister Rebecca, and how you two would be best friends, if you ever had the chance to meet. 

“Y/N! Where are you?” 

This startled you, and you jumped into Bucky’s arms. “Woah there, dollface, I haven’t even taken you out dancin’ yet-”

“Hands of my sister!” Howard came running and pulled you away from Bucky, shoving you behind him.

“Howard I’m fine!”

“Woah there Mr. Stark. It wasn’t-”

“If I EVER see you with her AGAIN, I will fight you on SIGHT. Let’s go, Y/N/N”

You mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Bucky as Howard dragged away from him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets ‘It’s okay’ with a dopey smile as he walked back to his tent.

He just hoped he would see you again. Maybe he’d take you dancing.

~~~~~~~~

Howard dragged you by the hand all the way to a bigger tent, one that wasn’t his and yours. “Where are we, Howwie?” 

“I’m taking you to see someone. Because there’s something your not telling me. How long have you been lying to me about the serum? huh? how long has it been affecting you?” He said, face morphing from anger to sadness to worry.

“Ever since... I guess there’s no use in lying to you.”

“Please, sis, I just want to help you.”

“I guess- ever since Steve received the serum? When I was shot? My best guess is that the bullet went through a tube of the serum, then into my ribs.” 

You paused.

“Ever since then, when I’m alone, I concentrate on something, let’s say a book, I can lift it with my mind. My brain just concentrates, it moves. I tell it to move forward, it does so. It’s at my command if I just focus on it. I guess that with the suitcase you told me to lift, it was just- an accident.”

Howard sighed and let go of your hand. “What you have, dear sister, what you have gained, is telekinesis is a  superpower where the user has an ability to move things at will. At it’s highest levels, dismantle the fabrics of the universe.”

“Howard, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I’m here to help you. Come with me.”

You both walked into the tent, were General Philips was siting at his desk.

“Howard, Y/N. Finally I wan’t to talk to you both. Howard as told me about the situation of yours, Y/N, your secret is safe with me.”

“What is it, General?”

“I want you to join the 107th.”

“General! I beg your pardon-”

“Allow me to talk, Ms. Stark. The regiment needs someone like you. I know you’ve expressed your interest in the war efforts-”

“But General, the men, my brother- you can’t expect me to use telekinesis in my service-”

“You’ll still be able to work with Howard. Don’t worry about the men. They need someone to keep them in line. Without your powers. Only if and when i tell you to.”

You clutched Howard’s arm. You had never been this nervous.

The General stands up from his desk to pick up a box, which he opens, to reveal a army uniform with pins on it, including three stars, identifying your rank. 

“What I’m saying is this: Welcome to the 107th infantry regiment, Lieutenant General Y/N Stark.”

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: feedback is appreciated! :)

- Talya

6/28 I DID A LOT

WOOH

WOOH

I talked in chinese today! For around a half hour!! AHHHHHHHH

ANYWAY

AHHHHHHH

IM SO HAPPY I WAS UNDERSTANDABLE AHHGGHGSIUSJAJEJDJEEJIE

So first of all I practiced with Google translate today beforehand (lol yes machine translate isn’t perfect). I clicked the app, clicked transcribe, spoke in chinese then saw if the English translation it was producing was close enough to what I was trying to mean to say. (Also I learned chinese transcribe will need to process for a few moments if you play Chinese audio like from a podcast because at first it will give you a sucky transcription lol and then correct itself). Anyway so I did that and quickly learned: Google translate WILL fucking think I am speaking sentences when I’ve only said a couple words of my sentence because I pause “too long” so when I tried thinking of tones or grammar I spoke too fucking slow for the app so BAM I had to speak faster for the app just to comprehend me. So I did not practice Thinking about how the fuck to say things right much, just how to recall words on a fucking speed time limit lol. So uh that was an experience. I’ll definitely say that my 学习普通话 app is way better for me actually practicing pronunciation with any success, because Google just will NOT tolerate me speaking slowly goddamn.

Anyway so then tonight I spoke with my language partner. Well

WELL

good news: I was understood, I was told I sound pretty standard and they can tell I maybe imitate some peoples phrases and words from shows I watch (which in this case is a compliment since they said weeks ago when I asked how they improved their standard mandarin accent for a speech competition that’s what They did and the kind of shadowing they suggested I try doing more for accent work).

My grammar and word choice was understandable (I KNOW I wasn’t perfect and there were fucking mistakes Especially just notable spots where I forgot common words and tried to talk Circles around those words to describe them since I know Enough words to kind of “explain around” and come up with a more word description of a simple word I forgot sometimes but fuck is it probably awkward to listen to. Like I forgot “back then/at that time” so I said “the time when I was in high school” or “in high school I..” just because I couldn’t say “that time” on the spot, also fucking I forgot how to say “also” and “or” in certain ways and just had to figure out a different way to make my point like “this is like that” or “not the same” ToT).

Anyway regardless it’s a real big accomplishment to me. Reasons being: 1. I’ve never talked in chinese that long straight or to someone else communicating, or telling stories about my life and asking questions and actually testing my fucking communication abilities past small talk. Even talking alone to myself it’s just phrases or small situations where if I forget a word I just stop, so this was huge for me. 2. I did not have time to think about tones period while talking today with my language partner so like being comprehensible is!!!! GREAT. Considering I tried speaking to a language partner simple common word tone pair examples or very simple small talk at 5 months into learning and remember being incomprehensible like 50% of the time. Versus me now a little under 2 years in so being able to simply not be constantly thinking about tones and still know I might be understood (and in this specific case was understood) is nice to know. 3. I did better at winging vocabulary and talking my way around words I didn’t know than i thought I could. 4. REALLY simply tone and grammar being comprehensible is blowing my mind on its own - I know there were many mistakes (I personally could hear my 3rd tone not always sounding right to my own ear, and know I heard a few grammar mistakes I heard after I’d made my point lol). But just being comprehensible enough for someone understand my points even if I made those mistakes was really cool. 5. I’m hoping this means all the things I’ve been doing lately: the Listening Reading, the watching shows with English subs this month while repeating some of the Chinese lines to myself, listening to audiobooks and repeating many of the lines to myself, and the weekly language exchange I’ve been doing, have all been helping to some degree. Improving production skills is not something I’ve tried studying before and so basically all that I’m doing is flailing around trying stuff and hoping something is useful. It’s nice to see something must be if I’ve managed this.

Anyway it was just very very cool to be understandable. ;-; At this time last year I was absolutely assuming it would take years to get even a little understandable. Also for now idk this proved to me to maybe just stick to shadowing for a while and Not specifically thinking of tones While actively speaking. For a while I thought of them actively which made me clearer and I think was important and helped, at this point currently I think sometimes i overthink and trying to speak from memory/more shadowing practice might help it become a bit more automatic? And then I can go back to some corrective work where I’m messing up specifically or haven’t internalized certain words/phrases tones maybe.

—

IN OTHER NEWS

today I ALSO played 4 hours of Kingdom Hearts II in Japanese WHICH WAS AN EXPERIENCE

AN EXPERIENCE IVE NEVER HAD BEFORE LIKE FUCKING THIS

So 1. EONS easier than last time I studied Japanese. For context at 2-2.5 years into studying Japanese I played the opening of KH2. I remember it was brutal, I used my phone constantly to look up words, but I got through like the opening portion to the first save point after the haunted mansion (so like is that day 2? Basically what’s usually .5-1 hour of play or less that took me a few hours back then). It was doable, kinda brutal, but also I have kh2 near to my heart so I could play it without reading when I felt drained. Now?? I had over a year break from Japanese study (maybe 2-3 years break idk). I reviewed Japanese in I think March-April 2021 this year. April/May to June (now) I’ve been studying some new material. The biggest new material being some more Nukemarine memrise decks, and Clozemaster as of this month. So like... this Eons of improvement is after a long ass gap of no study, a cram review, and some just beyond last-times-progress kind of new study. It is a HUGE difference to me in how it feels.

I did not use a dictionary at all this time. I did not play slow either, I read at a speed much more bearable, I comprehended most sentences totally (understanding words because of a mix of knowing most words, knowing the context for the words since I know KH2 WELL, knowing Hanzi from chinese, and thanks to Clozemaster of all things feeling a lot better/quicker with Japanese grammar comprehension), and a few sentences I knew the overall gist because of recognizing the Hanzi (tho they were being used in words that aren’t similar to Chinese), the grammar overall (the rough intention of the sentence), and knowing KH2 well enough to remember the main idea of th English sentence. So it was overall a much more pleasant, easygoing experience this time around playing! It was something where I COULD play 50 hours of Japanese KH2 now.

This kind of showed me some things: first that knowing a basis in chinese (for me) makes a huge difference. Kanji now make words easier for me to learn and guess. I can now recognize when some pronunciations are somewhat similar to Chinese words. I can recognize when some kanji are used to mean Different things from Chinese (since I know the English context too). I can also now actually Like and Appreciate that KH2 specifically uses kanji in some speech bubbles and scenes then hiragana for the same words at other times - it gives me a chance to use context to see both versions of the word and learn both the pronunciation and kanji a bit more. Now I have katakana English like words and kanji (in the sense of their similarities to Hanzi) and my basic grammar grasp to rely on to parse sentences which makes all of it much easier. For me chinese was just easier, and that’s now paying off also in making Japanese easier in some ways than it was before.

I also appreciate now why “prior context” and “comprehensible input” are encouraged so much. My effort level is comfortable and NOT draining, so I could’ve kept my playing for hours and I did not need a dictionary for new words because I had TONS of context. Part of this is KH2 being a game I know super well (so even back at year 2 it was doable if draining when no other video game probably would’ve been doable at all). So it makes sense now it would be the first comfortable feeling one. It is VERY comprehensible input for me, especially now with some of the Japanese improvements I’ve made.

Whereas I tried to play crisis core a month ago (doable but DRAINING in part because I knew the game so comprehensible but I didn’t HAVE the game remembered by heart like KH2 so I had to slow down to read everything slowly and figure out words much slower with no prior meaning in my head for many parts), and persona 3 (which was doable but DRAINING in part because I have little prior context compared to cc or KH2 and in part because it has so much reading). Also KH2 is easier to read than cc or persona 3 - kh2 is obviously meant for age 10+ and so the amount of text I’m required to read is shorter, a lot of conversational stuff and not layered (cc had a lot of technical paragraphs of directions for missions and persona is aimed at older teens and has much more like “think about it more long term” conversations which I struggle more to parse). Also just persona 3 has so much dialogue I started speed reading just to get to a save point which felt Draining. Whereas KH2 the reading is comfortable so I don’t read too slow, and so it doesn’t feel as draining since it’s not slow nor do I have to rush at lower comprehension to get through it - I can just read and comprehend everything as much as I can at a reasonably non draining pace.

Also I DO think Clozemaster (so kudos to u app) is actually helping noticeably. I’m doing Clozemaster Japanese by common word tracks (still in the 100 most common words sentences and almost done). I’ve been doing listening mode and then reading sentences after. I can TELL it’s helped me already with the following. I’m doing better at recognizing some grammar structure particles/words/conjugations in various forms and levels of politeness. I now have much less issue telling how to separate sentences into word/grammar functions - it makes everything just much easier to start being able to segment my sentences as I read so I can just pinpoint WHAT parts I know versus don’t know and what their rough function is (and since in KH2 I know the English lines usually it makes it way easier to guess what words mean roughly what English translation). I also read some manga during this past month that’s also helped with this skill. I noticed Clozemaster also is just helping with it a lot since in Clozemaster the politeness level varies and stuff so I’m forced to practice guessing and figuring it out more with Clozemaster sentences over and over. The listening mode has helped because I can tell that some of the most common words I can hear more instinctively now and read aloud at a more normal pace now. I still CLEARLY read over listening when the subtitles in KH2 are there if I don’t know a word, so my listening has HUNDREDS or likely thousands of hours to go (my Chinese is much much better). But I can already notice the sheer fact Clozemaster listening question mode is forcing me to 1 HEAR Japanese more (and I need like what 2000 hours listening) and 2 start recognizing more easily at least recognizing words I’ve learned when I hear them (whereas before I would struggle to hear certain words even if I’d studied just because I’d read-studied a lot but not actually heard much of those words much). Now this all isn’t a huge help with new words in KH2 since I’m learning to read them from the game but my listening isn’t picking them up or Parsing them well. But as far as IN Clozemaster: yes the constant audio word drilling is helping me recognize words by sound which is great since thanks to Chinese kanji recognition is now not intensely difficult, it’s the sound recognition and match up to spelling that’s now the major confusion for me. I mean grammar is also confusing.. and will take years... I do think Clozemaster forcing me to practice interpreting the grammar somewhat with nothing to help me is helping me at least feel less drained by the grammar. I used Clozemaster before for french and chinese at the stage between graded readers and actual native speaker material, and I think for Japanese it’s also Good for this purpose. Clozemaster is good for a lot of immersion-like sentence reading practice, with tools to make it easier like a translation and mostly words you know in each sentence. Making it a bit easier than just diving into the deep end into a random novel. I do think it helps with preparing you for less learner-tailored materials a bit while still being easier than native speaker materials so you can practice without feeling youre drowning.

anyway ahh. WOOH I PLAYED KH2 in japanese today!!! I HAD FUN

gonna do it some more.

kh2 is maybe THE original reason i started trying to learn japanese. its really fun playing it now.

—-

And finally, while I’m at it: I am ALMOST done with the Sundial arc in Guardian Listening Reading wise. I’m on chapter 17. I have like 2 days left so who knows maybe I can manage to finish the sundial arc we’ll see.

What I mostly did this month was Redo L-R chapter 1-12 with a second audiobook, read the novel print version up to chapter 12, read chapter 1-2 in the traditional print version, also read maybe 4 chapters of other random things, listened to audiobook files of stuff overall idk 20+ times while repeating after a lot of lines, did a small amount of Clozemaster chinese (mostly just Radio mode), did 30 min - 1 hour writing or speaking language exchange sessions once a week, and watch a bunch of Chinese shows with English subs this month while repeating after a lot of lines.

As you can tell my reading Amount lowered significantly since the past couple months. However, I think I’ve pushed up my listening amounts a little.

it’s too goddamn cold&snowy here right now so i dove back into my summer-y-est fic <3

Made A Garden (chapter 4)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Rilla’s Parents, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, (categorized as ‘other’ bc arum is nonbinary when i write him bye), Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, POV Alternating, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings, edited to feature my Rilla’s Two Dads theory

Fic Summary: Rilla’s parents take her out when they do field work. She’s a smart kid, and she knows how not to get in trouble when they’re caught up with their experiments and research. This time, they’ve taken her to an enormous, beautiful swamp, and their theory is that the monstrous presence in this place should be entirely dormant- which is why Rilla is so surprised, when she meets a monster for herself.

Chapter Summary: A conversation, an argument, and an interruption.

Notes: Please appreciate these children. Please. I care them................ also idk if this needs warning for, really, but i guess chapter warning for an adult Being An Asshole to a child? yeah.

~

"Why did you decide to start actually talking to me?" Rilla asks, laying lazily back on the thick trunk of a fallen tree, her hand draped to trail fingers in the slow-moving water beneath it.

Arum looks away from her, sinking his face further into the water for a long moment before he rises enough to answer.

"Well..." he says slowly, "when I determined that you and your... kin posed nothing of a threat-"

"Which I told you the first time we met," she interrupts in a chirp, and Arum scowls up at her until she laughs. His snout twitches then, a tell she's beginning to suspect means that he's burying a laugh of his own, and then the monster sighs.

"Which I needed to have proven, for the safety of my lands and my own self," he amends, hissing. "I decided that you should have an eye kept on you."

"And..." Rilla tilts her head back, her long braid rolling off the log enough that the end dips into the water beneath her. "You decided to do that yourself?"

Arum raises an eyebrow. "Who else would?"

She shrugs, her shoulder pressing against the bark beneath her. "Mm, I dunno? I just figured- you're the Lord of this place, right?"

"I am," he says, stiff and proud.

"So, I figured you'd, like, have someone else you could send, if you wanted to keep an eye on us?"

Arum growls, though he looks more sullen than angry at the assumption. "Perhaps I simply didn't want to risk any of my subjects in the effort, just in case I was wrong about you."

"In case..." she trails off, and then she blinks. "So, what, you'd risk yourself, first?"

"I can take care of myself," he snaps, his frill flaring quick enough to splash a little halo of water around his face for a moment, rippling across the surface of the pond. "And- and a good ruler is concerned for his subjects before himself, anyway. That is my entire purpose."

Rilla tilts her head a bit more, trying to get a better look at the vague purple blush coloring the webbing of his frill. "Huh," she says, and then his words sink in a bit more. "But- if you got yourself hurt-"

"I can take care of myself," he spits again, and she frowns.

"But if," she insists, "if something bad happened, who would take care of the swamp, then?"

Arum scowls up at her, and then he ducks his head beneath the water entirely. For a second she thinks that he's just going to disappear again, and she sits up, the wet tip of her braid flicking water along her arm, but then Arum reemerges a few feet down the log. He flings himself out of the water like a salmon, then pulls himself onto the log ahead in front of her, easy and oddly elegant.

"You," he growls, glaring at her with his claws digging into the bark, "ask altogether too many questions."

"Is... is that an observation?" she asks slowly, "or do you- do you want me to-"

He exhales an exaggerated huff, then sits back on the log and lets his tail drape over the side. "You may do whatever you want," he says, not for the first time, "so long as you understand that I may do the same. Meaning that I will not answer, if I don't feel like doing so."

Rilla pulls one of her legs up, hugging her knee against her chest and letting her other leg dangle. "Yeah," she says, and then she grins. "Yeah, you've kinda made that pretty obvious by now."

"Good," he mutters, and then he flicks his tail in the water, splashing her leg.

She laughs again, surprised, and Arum's snout twitches.

"Okay," she says. "Okay, mister secrets, I'm totally and completely informed that you're not gonna answer anything you don't want to, but you have to know that I'm still not gonna stop asking." She grins, and the monster frowns at her, and then sighs in an exaggerated way and looks off towards the edge of the pond instead. "So unless you're gonna tell me to stop-"

"I rule my swamp, Amaryllis. Obviously I do not rule you. As I said, you may-"

"Do whatever I want," she parrots, bouncing her head back and forth. "You don't ask questions basically at all, do you?"

"If you wished to tell me about yourself, you would," Arum answers with a shrug, and then- he smirks. Rilla doesn't think she's seen that particular look on his face before, actually. "In fact," he continues, "you have. I don't need to ask, Amaryllis. You are perfectly content to share the bland details of humanity without any prodding whatsoever."

"Humans aren't bland," Rilla says. "Just because you're bored all the time doesn't make everything else boring, it just means you aren't looking hard enough."

"Tell me something interesting, then," he says, leaning his head back and draping himself dramatically across the log, and for half a second he almost reminds her of Marc. She buries a laugh at the idea of the two of them meeting - Tal would get along with Arum better, she thinks - and thoughtfully drums her fingers off her chin.

"What sorts of things do you actually like?" she asks. "I'll be less likely to bore you if I know that much, at least."

The monster rumbles in his chest without opening his eyes, then makes a humming noise. "Blade combat," he says simply. "Music. Pollinators. Translations and ciphers. Questions within questions."

Rilla purses her lips for a moment. "Questions?"

"Indeed."

"So- wait. No, no- we just talked about this. You don't like questions."

Arum glances up at her, then, his mouth curling into a frown. "I think I know better than you do, what I like."

"If you liked questions, you wouldn't get so annoyed at me when I asked them."

"I don't dislike your questions," he says, sitting up again. "I dislike that you assume that all of them will be answered. A decent question will only lead to further questions, and trying to neatly tie anything to a single, simple solution will only reduce a thing from its true nature to a caricature of itself."

"If you can never find the answers, then how are any of the questions useful?"

"It's not about usefulness," he says. "It's about understanding, both the nature of inquiry itself and your own small place in the infinite."

Rilla frowns hard. "Those were a bunch of big words that mostly seemed to mean basically nothing."

Arum blinks, then gives a shocked, incredulous laugh. "How- how dare-"

"Even if a question leads to a bigger question, a bigger question is still an answer, Arum. Knowing that you don't know enough is still an answer. That's just- that's all just dumb semantics."

Arum sputters for a moment, then narrows his eyes. "I would say, I think, that the argument that a question is an answer is far more a matter of dumb semantics than the assertion that not all questions have answers, Amaryllis. You simply do not know what you're talking about."

"If you're not even trying to get to the bottom of the questions you ask, then maybe you're the one who doesn't know what you're talking about," Rilla says, and Arum scowls again, more viciously this time. "I think it's better to actually know things, instead of just- making everything even more confusing. Isn't the world already confusing enough?"

"Maybe for creatures as petty and small-minded as humans," Arum growls low, but as he opens his mouth to continue-

There's a noise. Unexpected, and out of place enough that it takes Rilla a moment to recognize it.

A small whinny, not all that far off.

When Rilla meets Arum's eyes again she knows he heard it too. He looks exactly as scared as she feels.

"Hide," she hisses, and Arum's wide eyes go wider.

"You hide," he snarls, slipping off the log and back into the water. "It could be anyone, you don't know-"

"Horse could mean knight," Rilla snaps, and Arum's frill flattens against his neck. "Just hide and-"

The brush at the edge of the pond rustles, and Rilla hears Arum gasp before he slips beneath the surface entirely, and Rilla holds her breath as she turns to see whatever pushes through the foliage at the edge of the pond.

Rilla doesn't think she's ever been less happy to be correct, before. The knight frowns down at her from beneath his helmet and atop his sandy-brown horse, and Rilla tries to lean into her surprise so the guilt hopefully won't show.

"Oh!" she says, pressing a hand to her chest as she scrambles to stand on the log. "Oh, I- you scared me! I didn't hear you, and-"

The knight narrows his eyes, and Rilla realizes that his hand is resting on the pommel of his sword as his gaze sweeps suspiciously across the shore.

"What is a little girl like you doing out in the wilds all by yourself?" the knight says slowly, and Rilla-

Rilla isn't the best at reading people, but something about the way his mouth curls, the way his eyes stay suspiciously narrowed, something tells her that his tone is less concerned for her, and more concerned by her.

"Oh," she says, and she tries to smile. "Well, I'm not by myself," she says. "My parents are- they're not far."

"Hm," the knight says, and then he swings himself down out of the saddle.

Rilla takes the moment to glance down, and- and she has to hold herself very very still to keep from flinching when she realizes that Arum is still in the water beneath her. She was certain that he'd be- completely gone by now, safe and away and- and she widens her eyes at him quickly while the knight is still busy with the horse, and she jerks her head to the side, trying to tell him- get out of here, obviously, get away-

But Arum glares up at her, his violet eyes furious, and then he jerks his own snout towards the knight.

"Who were you talking to?"

Rilla jolts, wobbling on the log before she regains her footing.

"Wh-what? I- I don't know what you're-"

"I heard voices. Who were you talking to?" the knight repeats, his hand still on his pommel even after dismounting.

His eyes are icy and sharp and unsettling, and Rilla decides that she's really, really glad that she's out in the middle of the pond, instead of on the shore with him.

"I-" Rilla pauses, then lowers her eyes, shuffling her feet as if embarrassed. "I was talking to myself," she says quietly. "I know I shouldn't-"

"You were shouting at yourself?" the knight drawls, dubious, and Rilla tries to smile. If it comes out awkward- well, that'll work too, right?

"Y-yeah. I was- I was making up an argument? I- I'm not good at- at arguing for real, so I like to- to practice? Sometimes? When I'm on my own?"

"Well," the knight mutters, looking away, "I believe you're not good at talking, at least."

Rilla swallows, ducking her head, and-

And in the water beneath her, Arum rolls his eyes hard enough to make a little ripple on the surface above him, and then he makes a face as if he's gagging on a piece of rotten fruit. Rilla presses her lips together tight, choking down an almost overpowering urge to laugh.

"Your parents," the knight says, and Rilla's eyes flick back up from the water to his sullen, stubborn face instead. "They let you wander around in monster-infested wilderness all by yourself, then?"

"They- um. I mean- this place is pretty safe, and- and they aren't far."

"That's what you said before,"

"Do-" Rilla swallows. "Do you want me to- to call them? I can- I have a whistle, I can-"

The knight seems to consider this, looking her up and down as if checking for weapons and then scanning his eyes around the shore again quickly, and then he adjusts his stance, his frame tensing before he nods. "I think you had better, little girl. Go on, whistle for them."

Does he think that I'm a monster? Rilla thinks, feeling maybe just the littlest bit panicked, and then she raises her hand to her neck to lift the whistle.

They have a whole system, Rilla and her parents, for the emergency whistle. There's a call for monster, there's a call for injured, a call for someone else injured, a call for not-an-emergency-but-you'll-really-wanna-see-this-right-now-it's-cool, a call for I'm lost, among others. Rilla doesn't use any of those right now, though, because her parents don't think about magic and medicine exactly the same way that the King does, so-

Rilla lifts the whistle to her lips, and she gives the call that means that she's spotted a knight nearby.

The knight tenses further, as if he's fully expecting to be swarmed or something, and when nothing immediately jumps to attack him he glares at Rilla again. She- barely manages to fake a smile, certain that she must just look like she's showing teeth at this point, but it takes less than a minute for her dad to come bolting out of the underbrush on the far side of the pond.

"Rilla- Rilla what's wrong?" he says in a rush, and he's always been a better actor than Rilla or her papa. When he swings his eyes across the pond and 'notices' the knight, the flash of surprise on his face looks entirely genuine. "Oh- oh, I'm so sorry, Sir-"

"Sir Caradoc," he says, his expression bemused (surprised, Rilla thinks, that she was telling the truth) despite his flat, toneless voice. "The Dauntless."

"An honor," her dad says, smiling sharply, "and what a surprise to meet a knight this far from the Citadel! What- Rilla, why did you..."

He trails off, his sharp on her own, and Rilla manages a weak smile of her own. "He- he was- worried? That I was out here all on my own, so- so I wanted- I wanted to show him that I was- that you were here, if I was got in trouble."

Her dad exhales, something like a sigh, and then he nods and turns his attention back to Sir Caradoc. "Well, I'm glad nothing's wrong, at the least. Thank you so much for looking out for my daughter out here, Sir Caradoc. Please- would you come back to camp with us? I'm sure you're out here on important business, but the least we could do is get a hot meal in you before you've gotta be on your way, right?"

Caradoc raises an eyebrow, but after a moment his lip turns up into a very slight smile, and he nods.

"It'd be a pleasant change of pace," he says. "Been weeks since I've had a meal I didn't cook myself, and I'll admit I'm not as good with a ladle as I am with my sword."

Her dad's smile goes wider and more forced at the reminder of the weapon, but he laughs lightly anyway. "Great! Rilla, c'mon back to shore, now. We might not be home, but we've got company to look out for, yeah?"

Rilla nods, plastering on a smile that she hopes looks as honest as her dad's, and then she- she aims herself so she won't land right on top of Arum, and she hops into the water.

When she's under the surface she cracks her eyes open, and Arum is- closer than she expects. His eyes are narrowed and bright, even through the murk of the water, and when she makes a vague get out of here motion with her hands, he scowls even harder, and then he reaches out and grips one of her wrists. He flicks his eyes towards the surface, then back towards Rilla, and he squeezes lightly before he lets her go again, retreating further down into the muddy detritus at the bottom of the pond.

Rilla gives him one more glance (she can barely see him, obviously he knows exactly how to blend in), and then she kicks her way back to the surface, and then over to the edge of the water where her dad can reach down and lift her back out.

Her dad keeps hold of her hand when she's back on shore, and he squeezes soothingly as Sir Caradoc leads his horse around the pond to join them, trampling through the brush with authoritative carelessness.

"We'll be fine," her dad says under his breath, before the knight will be able to hear them again, and Rilla nods.

She already knew that, actually. She knows they'll be fine, because her papa is clever and her dad is confident and charismatic. She knows they'll be fine because her dad is holding her hand.

As Sir Caradoc comes closer, batting aside a hanging branch and wearing his bland, professional smile, Rilla thinks about Arum's hand, too. She thinks about the odd texture of his scales against her skin, the way he frowned when he squeezed her wrist, the intensity of his eyes under the water.

Rilla is pretty sure - pretty sure - that what he actually meant to say with that little squeeze was be careful.

Pretty good advice, Rilla thinks, if the coldness in Sir Caradoc's eyes above that smile is anything to go by.

important (?) life update

to cut to the chase, my life has been and is gonna be changing real fuckin quick. we're finally selling the rental house my dad's owned for years instead of continuing to rent it out to people, and he's gonna be moving in about 3 weeks like he's been planning to for a few years, but now the time has come. he actually caught the ✨c-word✨ a little over a month ago from his boss, who had it way worse and almost died, but he miraculously made it, though because of how rough it was to his body he's probably never going to work again, which leaves my dad out of a job. guess that might be part of the reason why my dad's leaving now and not even later, but I suppose things are finally falling into place for him, especially now that he's recovered. so that means my mom and/or I will have to find employment soon enough. and I guess that's all the most important information said and out there, but there's more to this ultimately, which I’m putting under the cut if you don't feel like reading a wall of text because it's more me just getting stuff off my chest than anything

unfortunately things haven't yet fallen into place for me like they have for him. I was hoping that I could have been out of here myself long ago, but of course, ✨the c-word✨ kinda ruined all those plans for me and threw them right out the window lol. thing is, this whole entire bullshit has put even more strain on my parents' already rocky relationship with each other and my relationships with the both of them, even well before he caught it himself. like as soon as shit started shutting down my mom practically forbid me from being anywhere near him- six feet my ass, we'd be on opposite sides of the fucking house or accidentally pass each other for half a goddamn second and she'd scold me like I just committed a felony; I didn't know he was there and I had to pass him to use the bathroom, whadaya want me to do, piss my pants? she'd make me fucking. go into HER room and keep me there whenever my dad wanted to use the kitchen just to keep us separated. she thought us both too much of dumbasses to not stay apart from each other, but like... fuck, man. and looking back, this isn't even all, she practically had this mentality for my entire existence. my parents used to have really terrible and verbally violent fights when I was a child, and I specifically remember one time overhearing my mom say something along the lines of her having the right to basically deny him of taking any part in raising me at all, and that he was only there to work to support us. what the fuck? my support goes out to single moms whose baby daddies (for lack of a better term) are absent or were obviously shitty/abusive, but if a child has two halfway decent parents I believe that they should both have equal effort in raising the child. I dunno if her views have changed since then (I was only in second grade or so) but it still stuck with me. that paired with her overprotectiveness makes it clear that she wanted control over me in a way right from the start. last night, I had a conversation with my dad after months of hardly being able to talk to him for various reasons. we had a talk about what we're both going to do once he moves, and he expressed his disdain at how my mom has more or less sieged control over my life and hasn't let him have much say in it. and while there were a few things he said I didn't agree with, they weren't the points of the conversation so I didn't find any good in causing unnecessary arguments about it. but there was something he said that struck me. I was saying how I'm gonna have to learn how to do shit for myself whether she likes it or not, and he simply said "and you have learn to think for yourself too." in any other context, I would have scoffed internally at such a thing. I have a mind of my own! I disagree with her on lots of things! the fact that we happen to share similar values that he does not share with us is just a coincidence the way I see it. but I realized that wasn't what he meant. it's nothing to do with politics, and it's not me having a preference for her over him (cuz I have no real preference). it's about me literally not knowing how to live my life for myself. almost every single decision I make, it's never about me even if it's supposed to be. "I'd do this or that thing, but what if Mom [insert negative reaction here]?" "I and everyone else needs permission from my mom to do anything with me because otherwise she'll get mad at us." "I know she doesn't like it when I ask too many questions, but what if I get this thing she wants me to do wrong? I should ask just in case." and, as wrong as it may feel for me to say this, this sort of behavior is exactly the kind of thing that someone who's been abused will do. my dad was under the assumption that I was simply prioritizing her wants and needs until I clarified that it's actually out of fear that I behave in this way. since becoming an adult, I've realized more and more things about how my childhood I considered normal was actually pretty fucked-up, and relating to more and more signs and symptoms of emotional abuse, but this realization... pretty much confirms it. it still feels weird to say though, because it implies that I hate her or that she knew what she was doing to me. I do love her, and appreciate all the good things she's done to help me, and I know damn well she cares for me. but the way she's raised me and continues to treat me to this day have had some obvious effects on my psyche. my dad said that the only way for this to end was for me to get away from it. unfortunately, that's not exactly possible right now because I'm financially dependent on her. so the next best thing is to set up my boundaries and demand she let me to learn all the shit I need to know in order to make it on my own, because I sure the hell won't learn anything from continuing to be sheltered. as for finding employment, I'll be restricted to in-town jobs without a driver's license (unless I can get ahold of the local transportation services, but I wanna work on my driving anyway, but THAT might become difficult because it'll be winter before I know it and winter driving is a whole nother hassle lmao) and I'm still debating on whether or not I wanna continue any more college, but yeah. I may continue to be sporadic depending on what happens after dad moves out, but hopefully now that I've been able to more accurately pinpoint all the shit in my life that's affected me today, I'll be able to work on fixing what should have been taken care of years ago and get a step closer to healing 💚

It’s 3 am and I Can’t Stop Thinking of You

Modern Au in which Ruddiger is a trickster and Varian may or may not gain a boyfriend because of it. Enjoy!

It was three am and he’d yet to get one fucking minute of sleep. Of course it happened on the day he decided to go to bed early instead of staying up all night to work on various projects. Not that he could really blame Ruddiger, it wasn’t his fault he was sick, he had to be for him to not stop crying. It started softly at first, but the raccoons' little whimpers and chitters soon filled the entirety of the apartment. It pained him to hear him like that and nothing he did seemed to help. He checked to see if he wanted to go for a walk, checked to make sure his litter box was clean, he checked him over to make sure he hadn’t acquired any injuries. There was nothing that he could find wrong with him, and yet he wouldn’t stop crying. The internet provided him with no answers, only increasing his worry that the only cause had to be that Ruddiger was on the brink of death. Varian spent about half an hour in which he was the one crying, holding Ruddiger tight and sobbing into his fur, during which he failed to notice the animal had stopped his crying. By the time he pulled himself together and conducted another internet search all the veterinary clinics were closed. It was in a moment of desperation that he messaged the school wide chat, in hopes someone might be able to help.

V: My raccoon won’t stop crying, all clinics are closed. Someone help! I’m getting desperate here!

He didn’t really expect a response, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted one, but he was on the verge of a panic attack and he just needed someone to tell him he was overreacting. Then of course, tonight of all nights the chat was dead. He was about to give up hope, allow himself to wallow in his worry, then his phone lit up, signaling that someone had messaged the chat.

H: Hey, I’m a vet tech, maybe I can help?

Varian startled a bit at the response. He hadn’t expected to get any actual help, just a wave of reassurances to ease his mind until he could take Ruddiger first thing in the morning, or later in the morning was more accurate.

V: Ok.

Varian cringed at his response. Okay? What was he supposed to do with that? They probably thought he was crazy now. He was genuinely surprised when they responded again.

H: Meet in twenty? On the corner outside the campus library?

Varian looked at his screen, a bit unsure on how to respond. Was he really about to meet a stranger at three am? Ruddiger’s cry confirmed it, he couldn’t let him suffer through the night when there was an option to ease his pain.

V: See you then!!

He grimaced, goddamn he was so awkward. Now he just seemed overeager. He didn’t have time to dwell on his social awkwardness, instead quickly throwing on some shoes and a hoodie, before getting Ruddiger in his carrier and heading out the door. His nerves were a mess, but hopefully it’d be worth it and this person could help. It didn’t take him long to get to campus, it was just a short walk from his apartment. He did regret not changing into something warmer, it was winter and the cool air did nothing for his light clothing. He should’ve waited, it took him a whole ten minutes to get to the meeting location, he’d have to wait another ten minutes in the cold. Ruddiger was wrapped tightly in a blanket, letting out a whimper every so often. “It’s okay, bud, we’ll get you all taken care of soon.”

It didn’t take long for someone to approach. He looked to be slightly older than him, his blonde hair tied back into a ponytail, his green eyes shining even in the dark. “My labs about a fifteen minute drive from here, I can run some tests there.”

He was walking away before Varian could respond, leaving the other to chase after him. “How- how did you I was the one you’re meeting with?”

He stopped, eyebrows furrowing as he looked around, before finally crossing his arms and looking at Varian. “I’m sorry, but do you see another idiot standing outside the library with a fucking raccoon? Cause I don’t.”

Varian wanted to say something in retaliation but he had a point. So he followed instead, letting the other take the lead again. “Right, sorry.” He should’ve known better, really. His eyes darted to the sidewalk, almost missing the way the other flinched at his apology.

“It’s fine. I’m Hugo, by the way. Thought you might want to know that much at least, before you get in my car.” Hugo said, stopping in front of a beat up car and fighting to get the door open. Varian stopped in his tracks, eyeing Hugo and the car wearily. He really shouldn’t be doing this, he didn’t know him, or where they’d be going. Once he got in the car it was essentially game over. He considered shooting his dad a text just so if he came up missing they’d have some lead, but he knew he’d just get berated for it. Hugo seemed to sense his hesitance. “Look, do you want help or not? I’m not going to murder you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He must’ve looked scared, Hugo’s eyes softening ever so slightly. Varian’s heart stopped in his chest, now that he could see him better, he was beautiful. His eyes sparkling in the light of the street lamp, he seemed sincere, and his uncle always said one could tell a lot from someone’s eyes. He nodded, pulling the passenger door open. “I appreciate your help. I’m Varian.”

Hugo simply nodded, getting in the car, and starting the engine. Varian slid into the passenger’s seat, buckling up and placing Ruddiger in his lap, thankful that Hugo wasted no time in turning on the heat. Hugo drummed his fingers against the steering wheel, the silence deafening to the both of them. “So, what are his symptoms?”

Varian startled, his nerves once again taking hold. “Oh, um he seems fine, he just won’t stop crying. I’m scared something’s wrong.”

Hugo hummed, tapping his fingers once again, Ruddiger drowning the sound with a whimper. “We’ll definitely have to run some tests, probably blood work is best. I’ll give him a once over as well, listen to his heart and lungs and all that. If it’s something internal though you’ll definitely have to go to an actual vet later.”

Varian’s eyebrows knit together in concern, he was scared something serious was wrong with Ruddiger. He couldn’t lose his only friend, his best friend. He felt tears starting to prick his eyes, he couldn’t cry in a stranger’s car, he refused. His shoulders shook from the effort, but he didn’t care, this was already embarrassing enough. He completely missed the concerned look Hugo sent his way.

“Hey.” Varian’s head snapped up, smiling a bit at Hugo’s soft smile. “I’m sure he’s fine. Seems pretty tough to me.”

Varian smiled. “Thanks. For doing this, for helping me. You didn’t have to.”

Hugo shrugged, his smile becoming slightly more teasing. “What else was I going to do at three in the morning?”

“Sleep? That’s what I was trying to do.” Varian laughed, covering his mouth when it turned into a snort. “Sorry.”

Hugo laughed at that. “Don’t apologize. That was adorable.” Varian’s face flushed, turning his eyes away. Hugo cleared his throat. “I, uh, we’re here.”

Varian nodded, exiting the car and following the other inside. “So, uh, what made you want to be a vet tech?” He asked, trying to fill the silence that plagued them again.

Hugo stiffened, swiping his ID and holding the door for Varian to enter. “Not my choice. I personally would’ve loved to go into engineering. That’s what you study, right?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” He asked, tilting his head. He was pretty sure he didn’t know Hugo, so how did he know he was an engineering major?

“Remember that seminar last semester? The one on Demanitus?” Hugo clarified, as he went about preparing his station. Varian getting Ruddiger out and onto the table.

Varian definitely remembered the seminar. He’d been looking forward to it all year, then when the time came there was an annoying blonde that- oh. “That was you?”

Hugo shot him a wink, already beginning his examination on Ruddiger. Varian’s mouth hung open, he couldn’t believe it. He’d asked so many good questions, and sure he’d been annoying about it, but he made some really solid points. “How are you not an engineering major?” Varian asked before he could stop the words.

“I told you it wasn’t my choice. Now, can you be quiet while I check his breathing and heart?” Varian shut his mouth, waiting patiently as Hugo went about his task. Eventually he removed the stethoscope, placing it around his neck, and began checking the rest of Ruddiger. “My, uh, guardian, I guess, refused to pay for my schooling unless it was veterinarian school. So, here we are.”

He looked sad, not that Varian could blame him. It was terrible to be forced to pursue something that one wasn’t passionate about. “I’m sorry.”

Hugo laughed, scratching Ruddiger underneath his chin. “Why? It’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just-“

Hugo held up a hand. “It’s fine, really.” He didn’t believe it, but he decided to drop the subject, raising an eyebrow when Ruddiger started to purr. “He’s fine, by the way. This little bastard just wanted attention and I’ll be damned if he didn’t know how to get it.”

Varian stares at him in awe, not believing a word he was saying. “Wait, you mean he was faking it?!”

Hugo hummed in confirmation, Ruddiger continuing to purr as he was scratched and pet. “Yup. Little bastard has you wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?”

“He- I am not!” Varian protested, scooping Ruddiger up and placing him in his carrier, despite his cry of protest.

“Whatever you say. Should we get out of here then?” Hugo said more than asked, already holding the door open for Varian. He simply nodded following him out, his face burning in embarrassment. He should’ve guessed it really, Ruddiger always knew how to get what he wanted, he’d just never gone to such extremes before. He’d have to keep a better eye on him from now on. The ride back to the library was in a more comfortable silence than the ride over, the emotional rollercoaster of the night weighing Varian down. He almost didn’t catch Hugo’s words as they pulled next to the building. “It’s nice that you care so much about the little bastard. He’s lucky to have you.”

Varian stared at him for a moment, a blush dusting his cheeks. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself. Not many people would meet a stranger at three in the morning to help out.” Hugo simply smiled, watching as Varian got out of the car. Varian hesitated for a moment, not feeling quite right leaving things like this. “Hey!” He called, regretting it the instant the word left his mouth and Hugo rolled down the window.

“You forget something?” He asked, leaning down so he could see him out of the window.

“Yeah, uh, thanks again. Maybe I can make it up to you? Coffee? Next Saturday?” Varian asked, his voice wavering slightly, half of him wanting him to say no and the other more prominent part wanting him to say yes.

Hugo smiled, shooting him another wink. “It’s a date.” Varian’s blush returned tenfold, forgetting completely that he didn’t have a time, meeting place, or Hugo’s phone number. By the time he realized the other was long gone. Not that it mattered, the next Saturday Varian was back in front of the library at three in the morning waiting for Hugo, a smile gracing his features as the other rounded the corner.

ok i’ve got a request: literally just soft poe but like maybe he got hurt on a mission and so you two just spend like the day together being a goddamn soft mess while poe rests and gets better. i hope that makes sense & maybe helping him patch up his cuts 🥺 ty 💌

I hope you enjoy this!! Thank you for requesting, love, I really appreciate it. 

“It’s just a simple mission, baby. I’ll be ok,” he said that before every mission. You never believed him, but he always said nonetheless. Every mission he came back from he was never okay, whether that be physically or emotionally. As much as you loved him, you never trusted his word when he said that, but you also knew he said that to give you some form of reassurance in these dark times.

You knew him going to Jakku was a bad idea, but someone had to do it. You offered to go with him, but he kept denying your request. “Poe, please, I can do a lot more there than I can do here,” you pleaded. All he did was give you a questionable look.

 “Baby, as much as I love your determination, it’s not safe,” he said, climbing down the ladder of his x-wing. He enveloped you in his arms, wishing he could take you with him. He leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Don’t miss me too much, love.” 

“Too late, flyboy,” and with the blink of an eye, he had left. 

The mission was simple. Go to Jakku and get the map to Luke Skywalker. A simple two-day mission. Well as the force would have it, two days turned into two weeks. Since you worked in the communication system when you weren’t piloting, you knew when his system cut out. You thought nothing of it because sometimes the systems can mess up, or at least you tried to convince yourself it was nothing. 

You were calm on night one, after having convinced yourself that the reason it had cut out was because of a system malfunction. By night two, you realized if it was nothing serious, BB-8 would have tried to contact you. After that, all went downhill, you knew something had happened and there was nothing you could do. You hardly slept, barely ate, and were just overly stressed in general. 

“y/n, you need to sleep.” General Organa said to you in a calming tone. 

“I can’t, I’ve honestly tried, but I can’t.” She looked at you with sympathy in her eyes, she knew what it was like to have the ones you love to go on missions and something unexpected happen. 

“We are doing everything we can in efforts to find him and BB-8. If he were here he wouldn’t want you wallowing around waiting for him to come back. Please get some rest, I need my best communications officer to be on her best game.” You gave her a smile and headed back to your quarters. 

You laid down on his side of the bed, which somehow still smelt like him. Ever since he left, you had slept in his shirts, in hopes that it would bring comfort. Although it brought some, it didn’t bring enough. You laid down but for a while, all you could do was stare at the ceiling. Your body had obviously fought off sleep enough to the point where it couldn’t anymore. 

What you didn’t know was that: Leia had sent a search ship a few days before now, she could still sense him, so she knew that they’d find him eventually. She had to demand you not to go look yourself, knowing it would be too dangerous, especially with you in this condition. 

“General,” Leia’s ears perked up after hearing Snap’s voice, “ we think we found him.”

“That’s such good news to hear. Keep me updated.” Leia knew she couldn’t tell you, in fear of getting your hopes up for something that could be bad news. She just hoped for the best. 

It had been a while since she heard from Snap, so she was worried that what they found wasn’t Poe. She needed him back, but she also knew you needed him back so much more. 

“Hey General, you miss me?” Poe’s voice cut through the comms. Leia was finally able to let out the breath she was holding in for so long. 

“Welcome back, Dameron,” she said relieved. 

Before she knew it, Poe and Snap had returned to base. Poe was clearly hurt among so many other things, but he was alive. Leia welcomed him back with open arms. “If you’re looking for her, she’s in your quarters. She hasn’t been sleeping and I think she was finally able to fall asleep, so be cautious. It hit Poe how much this had affected you when he heard that. “I’m glad you’re back, Dameron,” Leia said, interrupting his thoughts. 

Once Poe had finished explaining what happened with the General, he rushed as quickly as he could to the quarters that you shared, ignoring Leia’s request for him to go to the med bay. When he finally got there and opened the door, he almost lost it from the sight in front of him. You looked exhausted, even as you slept; the fact that you were in one of his shirts; and the fact that you were on his side. He didn’t realize how much he had missed you until seeing that. 

Poe took off his boots and the flight gear he still had on and laid down next to you as quietly as possible. He knew you were a deep sleeper, so he hoped he wouldn’t wake you. You still shifted in your sleep, but you just nuzzled into his chest out of habit. 

Poe didn’t fall asleep, he just watched you sleep. He took in your features as if he had never seen you in his life. He listened to your breathing for the first time in weeks, and it was the most relaxing sound he heard in his life. 

He heard you move again, but this time you had moved to sit up. You hadn’t fully woken up yet so you didn’t really think anything of it. Poe also sat up and you had noticed the rustling beside you. You finally looked up at him, after you were more awake. 

Your breath hitched. “Please tell me I’m not hallucinating or something crazy,” you wanted to check before overreacting about nothing. “Yes, I’m here, baby,” he chuckled. 

You had never sprung out of bed that quickly, you straddled him and just hugged him. You nuzzled your head into his neck. You finally looked up into his brown eyes that you loved so much, “Poe,” you didn’t realize you were crying. Before you could say anything his lips met yours in a way overdue kiss. 

You finally looked him over, and you saw the bruises and scratches all over his face. It was probably like that everywhere, but it was the most visible on his face. You quickly got up to get your first aid kit. “Get up, Dameron.”

“Wow, I just got back and you’re already bossing me around,” he said, turning to where he sat on the edge of the bed. 

You simply rolled your eyes at him. You cleaned up the sand and blood from his face. All you could do was look at him, and your lips started trembling. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Poe looked at you with much concern on his face.

“I-I I thought I l-lost you. Please, d-don’t do that to me again.”

“I’ll do my best, I can’t promise, but I’ll do my best.” he brought his hand up to wipe your tears. You finished cleaning his wounds and after a quick shower together, you laid down again. You laid your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You couldn’t have been more contempt at that moment. 

“Why were you gone so long?” you asked drawing light circles on his stomach.

As he explained how his mission went from good to bad in 15 seconds, how he met and named a rogue stormtrooper, and how he was stranded in the sand for almost two weeks, you then realized why it had taken so long. 

“I really missed you and your storytelling,” you told him, loving how he exaggerated every detail. 

You two sat comfortably in the comfortable silence for a while, when Poe finally spoke up.

“You know, I think I’m going to have to leave more often,” you gave him a confused look, “if I can always come back to you in my shirts, then it’ll work out.” 

“I hate you sometimes, Dameron.”

“You love me and you can’t even deny it.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Wait- Where’s BB-8?”

You had never seen Poe’s face change so quickly, “Uh, I don’t know actually.” He looked like he was thinking for a moment. “Can my favorite communications officer do something to find him?”

“Unfortunately, no I can’t. He’ll find his way back, he always does.”

“He’s probably doing something absolutely crazy right now.”

“You’re probably right. He is your kid after all.” You said. 

It was at that moment that both, you and Poe, knew that this was going to be a forever thing. You knew you’d always be in each other’s lives.

“I love you, Flyboy.”

“And I love you, Comms.”