#And going through my files I saw that I definitely drew these 4 the most as well

[usurp3r]

My 4 most drawn (not necessarily posted) characters this past year.

[keilemlucent]

lavender latte: iii

(T (for now!))

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

chapter 1   ||   chapter 2   ||   chapter 4

word count: 4.2k

a cheeky drink and some mutual sabotage. 

warnings: oh no, they say s*x, fluff, pining, the usual, and a wittle angst on the side, reader smokes cigs bc its a salem trademarked fic thing

enjoy folks ;^) the whole of this piece is gonna be about? ten chapters. so. hold on tight!!!

beta read by @keiqos, heart EYES

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“Let that sit for a second or you’ll burn yourself—”

“Don’t need to tell me twice, angel. I know the drill.” Hawks replied with a wink.

You weren’t ever going to get tired of that.

You really expected Hawks to disappear out of your life. You really, truly expected him to run off for good. How many bigger, better, and more important things did he have to do? Even if you managed to speak to him and regard him like any other customer (or, perhaps acquaintance, and more recently, friend — ), your mind swam with insecurities that only seemed to get worse over time.

You were waiting for the metaphorical thread to snap.

You waited for the day Hawks simply would stop texting you flirty bullshit on a somewhat regular basis.

But, holy fuck, the dude didn’t.

 You couldn’t think of why. You weren’t complaining about the attention, but you also were terrified of getting too used to it. Hawks was a part... bird (?) right? He was flighty by nature.

Despite this, Hawks continued to not only text you but also stopped by the shop fairly frequently for his special, quirk-fueled beverage fix. Politely, he’d text you the day before he planned to make an appearance to check and see if you were working, and then show up the next day like it was nothing. 

He usually wouldn’t stay for long; the hero was ungodly busy and always on the move. But, he always took the time to flirt and get a full description of his drink before dashing out to save the world once more. 

Most days he visited were his ‘hero work’ days. He’d appear in his costume, done up and dashing for a sip and a quick talk before disappearing once more into the skies. Every once in a while, Hawks had an ‘office’ day where he’d be confined to his agency to catch up on his insane backlog of paperwork. On these occasions, Hawks would talk (stall) at the tea shop for as long as possible. You talked and joked with him as long as he would let you. Sure, it put you behind on work, but no one at the shop was going to tell you off for fraternizing with the number two hero (whose repeated presence was drawing more customers anyways). You both reveled in each other's attention, drinking in the other’s slowly softening smiles and quick wit. 

 On this day, Keigo’s wings were the shittiest they had been in a while. Plucked and almost barren with how much he’d been working lately. Total exhaustion seemed like it was constantly on the horizon, tugging as his eyelids and weighing down his chest each morning.

It was easier to get out of bed when he got to think about seeing you.

Sure, your drinks were a perk. Very much so. He was getting so used to the artisan beverages you crafted that the taste of his normal canned coffee was starting to bother him. 

But, what his real thrill in visiting the tea shop was that he got to see you, and that made his heart pound. 

He sat across from you, looking down into your newest drink. It swirled between dark and milky, a heady, rich aroma billowing up with the steam it produced. He had requested something ‘surprising, new, and horribly caffeinated’ as deep fatigue was the worst villain he’d likely see that day. You had just nodded, cheekily starting to prepare his drink with a bounce in your step, pupils going wide. 

“I feel like you’re gonna start running out of ideas one of these days,” Keigo laughed, adjusting himself on his stool, gloves and jacket removed. He almost looked like a normal patron.

 You grinned to yourself, idly cleaning around you as you often did, “I dunno, I’ve got a lot.”

Hawks raised an eyebrow, “Tell me about them.”

“Nope, top-secret,” You shook your head, digging into your apron to flash him the small notepad you carried on you.

Scrawled in nasty handwriting, you carried your many ‘feeling’ ideas around with you. Different concepts and abstractions all scribbled down, a nice long list to look back on whenever Hawks would make his appearances and his own vague requests. Your backlog of ideas made it easy to find something more than suitable to make for him.

When Hawks saw your notepad his eyes widened, tilting his head and a devious smirk coming to his lips.

Your expression fell, and you stuffed the papers back into your pocket, hiding your hot face by idly cleaning some more. 

You left yourself very open for teasing, it seemed.

(Not that you or Keigo minded.)

“You keep a little list of all of your ideas! I’m beyond flattered,” Hawks ran a hand through his hair, flashing a cocky smile for you. 

“I have to stay prepared, can’t be disappointing my celebrity sugar daddy,” You winked as Hawks’s eyes went wide, half-hearing a choke get caught in his throat. (You loved it when you were able to get him visibly flustered. What a treat.) You nodded down to the drink, “Should be good to try now.” 

 Keigo really liked spending time with you. He knew it was always fleeting and short and consistently he wanted to find reasons to stay with you at the tea shop counter for longer and longer. Your quips and chides continued to get quicker and more clever and he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his cool around you. Most of the time he smoothed himself easily, not showing a trace other than that which he neurologically couldn’t control. 

But sometimes, you were bold enough and ballsy enough to get him to gag on his literal words and he was positive that you were the only person to ever have him break composure in such a way. 

He covered his weakened poise by sipping the new drink, mindfully letting the taste wash over his tongue.

Increasingly, you’d been changing up the so-called ‘vibe’ of your beverages. It seemed like each time Keigo dropped in, you had something new and vibrant to show him. 

This drink was particularly different.

The taste was rich, dark, and smooth, rolling into the back of his throat and down his spine. It coated his insides with a warm, low heat. Peeking through were sweet, light accents, warm but almost... teasing?

His dick twitched.

 Hawks’s mouth dropped open, any and all professional veneers dropped as you just beamed so fucking smugly at him. 

“What do you think?” You leaned a bit forward, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Is... Is this supposed to taste like sex?” Hawks asked, taking another mouthful to confirm. Based on the way his eyes briefly shut and some of the tension rolled from his shoulders, he thoroughly confirmed it.

“Technically, it’s crafted based on like... a late-night rendezvous. I left it fairly up to interpretation beyond that. The rest is on you.” You shrugged, still bouncing as Hawks took another chug.

“What the fuck, (Y/N),” Pleasant shock colored his features, but clear amusement stretched across his lips as he continued to drink. 

“You wanted something surprising and horribly caffeinated. That’s a dark chocolate mocha with two extra shots, our in-house raspberry and rhubarb syrup, a bit of white chocolate syrup, and a few of my add-ins as well. It’s pretty different from what I’ve made you before,” You blinked at him, stomach twisting as his expression remained unguarded. “I... I probably should’ve asked before giving you a drink that definitely could’ve been taken as sex. That’s my bad. I can remake you something else if you’d like?”

 Keigo shook himself from his stupor, shaking his head and quickly regaining his composure. He took another sip to emphasize his words, “No, nope. It’s okay. Definitely okay. The drink is really good. I’m just now wondering something.”

“And, what’s that?” You asked, reaching behind the counter to grab your own iced beverage.

“Can your quirk be used to manifest bad feelings and concepts, just like good ones?” Keigo asked. Normally, he’d add more nuance, but he was getting impatient and sloppy around you. He’d have to keep that in check.

Especially with the way your shoulders drew up and tensed. You turned a bit away from him, any and all potential for eye contact torn away.

He hit a nerve.

“The type of abstract feeling doesn’t matter, I can emulate it,” You replied, pulling at your nails. Keigo had long picked up that it was one of your habits when your anxiety spiked. 

He dropped it, but didn’t forget. There were public files on quirks. Maybe he’d look into it. Maybe. It felt a bit invasive, but considering plenty of that data was freely accessible, it hardly was an invasion of privacy, right? 

(Except for the fact that it obviously made you very uncomfortable to discuss the more unsavory potentials of your quirk.) 

(He just wouldn’t tell you.)  

Keigo switched topics, easily rolling away from the topic, “Any particular... event that inspired this one?” 

You pressed your hands into the counter, leaning over it to glare at him, “Are you referring to something with that comment, Hawks?”

He shuddered when you said his name, but you don’t notice. 

“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not,” Keigo shrugged easily, going for another sip.

 The drink was inspired by the several day cinematic, wine-bender you went on a week or two prior. An entire weekend with just you, your cats, three entire bottles of wine, and a backlog of movies to catch up on. You tried to consume lots of different types of media, but what had been catching your eye lately had been anything with gushy romance for fairly obvious reasons.

(There was an embarrassing amount of ideas for drinks that were a bit too romantic to properly indulge with your quirk. You’d never tested the limits of how certain feelings could manifest, and you weren’t quite ready to face the reality where you could make people nut from caffeinated milk.)

“It is good though, the drink,” Hawks smacked his lips together as if it would make his coming analysis more credible. “It definitely does taste like sex, but more so complicated. Darker.”

“Deeper.” You smiled. “Your palette is getting more refined. I’m proud.”

“Are you saying it was bad to begin with?” Hawks pouted, flashing you falsely weepy eyes and a puffed out lip.

You rolled your eyes, “Yes, you yourself have admitted this. You drink canned coffee still, so I can’t even call your taste good.”

Hawks gasped, putting a hand to his chest, “I’m hurt, truly wounded.”

“I’m sure you are, tailfeathers.”

“I really thought I had reliably moved up to ‘birdboy’, angel.”

You snorted, covering your mouth with your hand, “Just goes to show how quickly the tables turn, tailfeathers.”

Hawks’s pager suddenly chimed, a familiar sign. He took a quick look at it and sighed, moving to re-robe. You were surprised by the speed at which he did so, and the way he became tense so quickly. 

It made you realize that he was always tense.

(Unless he was talking to you.)

“I thought today was an office day?” You asked, a bit of a disappointment clouding your voice.

Hawks just gave a small smile, fully plastering back on his heroic facade, “Duty calls. Lots happening lately.”

He flicked his visor back over his eyes, slid you your normalized wad of cash, and whisked himself out the door, immediately taking to the skies from the streets.

He’s in a bit of a hurry.

He... didn’t even say goodbye. 

Wonder what’s happening?

 Truthfully, Keigo was a bit startled by the notice on his pager. The whole reason he’d started patrolling the particular neighborhood the tea shop was in was because there was word of a villain syndicate working nearby. It hardly seemed right for the neighborhood, but Keigo knew that villains hid anywhere. Whatever they were planning was still relatively shrouded, but it was clear that it needed to be treated delicately. That particular neighborhood was rife with pedestrians, businesses, and homes and any sort of villainous activity had the possibility of reaping a heavy amount of collateral damage. Keigo and the Commission had been on their guards about it, but things had been steadily becoming more intense over the past few weeks. 

Plopping himself on a rooftop, Keigo took up residence to stake out his newest lead, watching figures and silhouettes in a nearby office building.

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 Funnily enough, the rest of your week went horribly. Just downright shitty. You figured at some point, things would let up, brighten, but they didn’t. Each day brought some new, personal calamity. 

The first was a trip to the emergency vet with one of your cats after she swallowed a hair tie. An expensive vet bill later, she was perfectly healthy, but you remained wracked with anxiety. 

Another day, the owner of the tea shop paid a visit to chew you out for your newest tea blends not fulfilling his picky seasonal requests. You were relieved it had nothing to do with how Hawks monopolized your time. Still, getting yelled at easily within earshot of both coworkers and customers made your insides twists. 

The final small disaster was when a particularly asshole-ish customer chucked a hot drink all over you and your cute white sweater. One of the younger openers had been dealing with a difficult patron and an incorrect order, nothing out of the ordinary. When you tried to step in and de-escalate the situation, the man ripped the lid from his cup and splashed you with the burning liquid. You held back any sounds of pain even as your skin stung like hell when you offered to remake his drink.

One of your managers luckily allowed you to go home early. Thank god.

By the end of your shitty week, you fell into your apartment and just cried. White sweater stained and day feeling fairly ruined, you let yourself have a good, solid sobbing session to just release how terrible things had been. 

It would pass, you knew. But it sucked at the moment.

It also didn’t help that Hawks had been particularly absent after running out the last time he came around. He’d still managed to shoot you a funny text or two, but mostly, it was silence from him. You rationalized it by reminding yourself of how quickly he flew off at the end of his last visit, hero business forever more pertinent than you and the shop.

You reminded yourself to keep yourself grounded in Hawks obvious impermanence, even if you were starting to get used to (and really like) having the hero around. 

You decided that your Friday evening would be good. You treated yourself to a hot shower, noting with a hiss the pink scalded skin that covered your chest from your collar bones to just below your breasts. You threw on a facemask and uncorked a bottle of wine you had been saving for a rainy day. 

You clicked on one of your favorite shows, an older cartoon that brought you consistent comfort in times like those. Curled up with a knit throw blanket and your healthy cats, it did help soothe the burns, mental and physical.

That is until you got a bit too drunk on red wine and it turned into sad drunk.  

So, you made your way to the roof.

You weren’t fucked up beyond belief, despite the fact that you were towing an open bottle of red in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the left. The cold would sober you up, along with the nicotine. You hoped it would force you out of your head. 

Upon throwing open the door to your apartment complex’s rooftop, you were made very aware of its wintertime disuse. The gardens that grew during the summer were snowcovered. The chairs and tables for lounging were in a similar state. You didn’t mind. 

The view was still nice. 

You set down your bottle and zipped up your coat. Quickly, you brushed off the flurries from a rickety lawn chair and plopped yourself down. You threw on some music from your phone, playing some sweet, old songs that made your chest ache when you needed it to.

The city stretched in front of you, beyond the rooftop. You didn’t live in a particularly wealthy district, but there was no shortage of dazzling neon and bright street lights dotting the ground below. You watched how the rest of the city stretched far beyond your little pocket, still gleaming with multi-hued lighting and dazzling in the wash of the crescent moon.

You took a swig, fishing for your self-dubbed ‘sad cigarettes’ and lit up. With your exhale, you watched as smoke lazily swirled away, carried by the soft winter wind. If you were any less drunk, you’d be freezing.

A shadow, winged, fell across the snow. 

“You know, I get nervous when I see pretty girls on rooftops with bottles in their hands,” You jumped at the voice, whipping your head to the source.

Hawks stood, scarlet wings fanned outwards, on the lip of the rooftop. 

Your eyes widened.

You took another sip.

He gave an affectionate laugh, jumping down into the area where you were seated.

 Keigo had just been out on his normal, nightly patrol. The leak had been correct and he’d been stealthily tracking the villains while completing the rest of his hero duties. He was able to laugh off his exhaustion, but it was starting to eat him. Several cans of coffee a day was hardly doing it for him. He hid his sleepiness and aches well, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t difficult. All the same, his typical roles had to be fulfilled. 

He was surprised to see you, all alone on a rooftop with a lit cigarette between your fingers. Keigo let himself be surprised before noting that ‘ yes, you definitely probably live in this apartment building and you’re just outside to smoke’, but the sudden jolt of panic he felt was crushingly unbearable. 

Mostly because it was personally protective and not heroically instinctual and he couldn’t start acknowledging that aspect of his feelings for you. Not yet. 

Keigo walked towards you, asking, watching you blink blearily at him “You doing alright?” 

Eyes downcast, you shrugged, “We all feel shitty sometimes. Just depends on how you cope, ‘ya know?”

“And how do you cope, (Y/N)?” Keigo asked, pausing before brushing off a chair. “Mind if I join you for a bit? I could use a second to rest my wings.”

You nodded, almost offering him the bottle, but quickly pulling it back to your chest before taking another inhale. Offering a pro hero alcohol while he was pretty obviously working seemed like a bad move, even in your tipsy state. 

“Most of the time, I watch nice stuff and distract myself, like most people, ya’ know?” You exhaled as you smoked, relishing the nicotine buzz. “Sometimes, though, I just feel extra shitty and need to extra cope.”

Hawks hummed in agreement, sitting back in the chair. His wings were folded up and over its back, the longest feathers trailing in the small snowdrift behind him.

“Do you get cold, being in the sky all the time?” You asked, eyes going cloudy as you stared up at the lights of the city and higher into the sky. 

“Most of the time,” Hawks chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head, “I’ve told you this, angel. It was one of our first conversations.”

Your eyes widened at the realization, mouth open with a hearty laugh.

 It made Keigo’s eyes water a little. He blamed it on the wind. 

 “I’m silly, I can’t believe I forgot,” You nestled back into your chair, tracing the lines between constellations. “It’s the whole reason you came to the teashop in the first place.” 

Your voice resonated, focus foggy. Somewhere else, old memories played in your mind, recounting your first few meetings with Hawks.

A warm, small smile stretched across your face as you traced the stars. 

 Keigo watched, enraptured. You were cute, especially like this. All bundled up in your winter coat, half-zipped. There was a lot less stress in your shoulders than he normally saw at the shop, especially as your thoughts were so far away.

He wanted nothing more than to commit the contours and shadows of your face in the white moonlight to memory, never forgotten in the blissful cold. 

 You interrupted his thoughts so beautifully.

 “Thanks for talking to me.” You took a sip from your bottle just after speaking, half-drowning your words, but Keigo caught each one. “I appreciate you.” 

“P-pardon?” Keigo couldn’t tell if you caught his stutter, but even if you did, you didn’t show it. The comment felt like a jab to his jaw, half-knocking the wind of him and turning him into a filthy masochist. He’d take any whiplash if it meant you saying such kindnesses to him. 

How could you just say shit like that?

What exactly did you mean by that?

Why did your attention make his legs tremble?

You turned your attention from the night sky to Hawks, something like uncertainty bubbling in your chest, “I appreciate you, ya’ know? Coming by the tea shop still, teasing each other and shit, you humoring me—”

Hawks interrupted you, feathers tensing at his back.

“I’m not humoring you.” Hawks deadpanned, staring at you oddly seriously. The yolks of his eyes seemed even more intense in the neon and night light. 

“You’re... not?” 

There was utter disbelief in your voice, accented by the way your jaw was half-opened.

Hawks shook his head, standing in emphasis, feathers fluttering as he did, “ No, angel. Not at all. I visit because...”

I like you.

“Because I like your drinks.”

  Because you make me feel good in a way I’ve never felt.

“You’re fun to talk to, too. Added perk.”

  Because I want to hear your voice when I breathe and when I die. 

“I enjoy it, you know? You're fun.”

 Some feeling in your chest, something full of hope, crushed itself and compacted to the point of pain. You sniffled at his admission, blaming it on the cold. In a fucked up, sad way, part of you was so relieved. 

He likes the shop. He likes your drinks. 

He’s around because he wants to be. 

But not because you’re special to him. 

 His words reminded you of your insignificance in Hawks’s life. No matter how much you craved his attention and words, and more recently found yourself staring at the plumpness of his lips and the curve of his cupids bow and daydreaming about how much you wanted to lean over the tea shop's counter and kiss the constant, teasing smile off his face—

But.

You don’t matter that much to him.

Sure, he likes you, but he’ll never feel the same way about you. 

 You made the decision then to make the most out of Hawk’s affections and sweet words. You’d take what you could get, even if it was fleeting and probably  eventually heartbreaking. It seemed smart, to refuse to get your hopes up for someone so unattainable.

 You let out a shaking sigh, “Thank you, Hawks. I appreciate you coming around. You really light up my day.”

 Keigo saw the fall of your face and bottled himself up. Shoved down everything. Fuck his feeling, fuck how he felt about you, this was all fucking terrifying. It was getting to be too much and he had to try and control himself.

Just like he’d been taught so well.

He was just so happy to be around you. He could squash his feelings, even if they were fairly obviously somewhat mutual. God knows that he didn’t know how to handle anything like that.

On the gods, his pager beeped.

 “Duty calls?” You said, standing up yourself and brushing off the stray snowflakes. 

“Seems so.” Hawks sighed, nodding, “Thanks for letting me rest here. It was good to see you, (Y/N). I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You waved goodbye as Hawks disappeared as quickly as he came, launching himself from the roof with the heavy sound of wing beats. 

Soaring away, Keigo risked a final look at you. He swore he saw tears in your eyes.

He forcibly repressed his feelings, reminding himself that your company, words, and quirk-made beverages were more than enough. The flutter in his chest when he thought of you wouldn’t rest, but he could learn to ignore it. 

 On the roof of your apartment, you felt fatigue in your bones and wetness on your cheeks. You ignored both in favor of smoking another cigarette, soft, melancholy music being your only constant, reliable companion. 

You reminded yourself that he, Hawks, was a temporary fixture, more flighty than most and liked you just enough and for surface-level reasons. You could take that. You’d do anything to be around him more, even if it never amounted to anything. 

You, just as Keigo did, pressed down any larger feelings.

 (The thing about feelings, though, that neither of you was very good at remembering, was that they don’t go away. Sure, you can let them go, but that takes time or a practiced mind!)

(When you take feelings, big, aching, soaking feelings and shove them down into the deepest parts of you, they just tend to make you bleed. The ‘hidden’ feelings color your blood as it spills, even if you don’t notice when it falls and its change in hue.)

(One can only hope that both Keigo and you listened instead of lied.)

 Both of your hearts ached, and neither of you fully understood why.

[dancedance-resolution]

Why Batwoman 2x01 was so good:

1. The writers managed to strike a great balance between paying respect to Kate Kane and introducing Ryan. Kate Kane as a character is, of course, significant to DC. She’s an important source of representation as a Jewish lesbian, and she has a large legacy/mythos within the larger DC Comics history. Batwoman first showed respect to Kate as a character by wisely chosing to not kill her off. Next, there’s one scene where Ryan is reading up on Kate, developing new understanding and respect in the process, and every few seconds the camera cuts over to where Mary and Luke are reading up on Ryan, similarly gaining understanding and respect for Ryan. I think this scene effectively facilitate the batsuit’s—as a mantle, as a symbol, and as a mythos—being passed on to Ryan. It paid a large amount of respect to Kate as a character, pointing out some of the most significant aspects of her character, and sort of drew Ryan into Kate’s mythos as Batwoman in a way that helps facilitate her becoming Batwoman - she comes to learn and respect the history and the gravity of Batwoman as a person, as an entity, as a figure of justice, and as an icon; and as a result, she can now carry on that legacy and expand it, using it to bring even more good to the world.

But even before she learned about Kate, Ryan respected her. When Ryan first met Mary and Luke, she offers genuine condolences for their loss. She doesn’t disrespect them or make light of their grief. Even though these two people are strangers,

In the process of paying due respect to Kate, however, Batwoman did not minimize Ryan or treat her as “second” to Kate. Ryan got a significant amount of screentime and focus—as she should—and her time on screen was all truly meaningful. We’ve begun to see her backstory, see who she is as a person, and see what that will mean for her as Batwoman.

2. Ryan is a lovable character, and Javicia did an excellent job portraying her. I love Ryan a lot, guys. She’s passionate, earnest, and driven. She’s down-to-earth and has a strong sense of justice that leads her through life. And at the same time, she’s a charming dork - the type of charming dork who yells “I’m bulletproof, bitches!” after dangling helplessly from the sky by a grappling hook. I, obviously, fucking love her for it.

I also think that the writers did a great job of keeping the vibe of season 1 to a good extent. The way Ryan was introduced felt like a proper introduction considering what we know about this show’s Gotham and considering how things were done in season 1. It worked well. Additionally, it is not lost on me how meaningful it is that from Ryan’s very first scene, we see that her instinct is to selflessly help victims to the best of her ability, and it is because she went out to help them that she stumbled upon the Batsuit. Furthermore, in that scene where she does discover the suit, the flashbacks establish that this moment in meaningful beyond just this one moment of time - it has connection to Ryan’s history and motivations for becoming Batwoman. During the DC Fandome this past summer, Caroline Dries said this season would deal with destiny. I think that that first scene was a great way to introduce it as a concept without taking away any of the sense that Ryan truly deserves this mantle as well. (One last side note - the use of music and sound effects in that first scene was excellent.)

While the writers certainly deserve a good bit of credit for creating this amazing character from scratch, I think Javicia also deserves a lot of credit here - she did an absolutely stunning job as Ryan. The charm I saw in Ryan was very similar to the goofy charm she brought to Ali in God Friended Me (which I loved, by the way), and those lighter scenes were played with the same adeptness as the dark, intense, and gutwrenchingly emotional scenes.

3. Batwoman acknowledged Alice’s grief and trauma in a way that also gave viewers some closure regarding season 1 matters. I think that Alice’s grief process was written pretty well considering her already existing trauma. And that succinct summary of Alice’s plan to get her dad to kill Kate was pretty clever on the writer’s part, as it gave us some closure regarding season 1’s goings on that were interrupted by COVID (and that were unable to be seen to completion since Kate Kane is no longer Batwoman).

4. The episode had many powerful moments. Some quotes that really struck me:

“You make it sound like these are all my choices...You wanna know why I haven’t paid my fines? Because I can’t find a job. Because I don’t have a home. Because no land lord wants to rent to an ex-con on post-release. You see how this works? No one cares that the dope wasn’t mine or that the Crows were dirty. Or that I’m actually a decent human. I am a file in your cabinet. That is not having power. That is thr very definition of powerless.” This line is made all the more powerful by the fact that Ryan’s first words upon donning the Batsuit are “Time to be powerful.”

“Trust me, I know I’m not a symbol, or a name, or a legacy...I am a number. I am the 327th baby of a Black woman who died of childbirth that year. I am a twenty-dollar-a-day check to a group home. I’m Inmate 4075 serving eighteen months for a crime I didn’t commit. But I can live with all those numbers because the mama who adopted me? I was her number one. But it turns out she’s just one of a quarter million murders in this country who have not seen justice. And that is a number I can’t live with.”

“I’m bulletproof, bitches!”

5. Batwoman has a truly excellent supporting cast. I know that a significant portion of the Batwoman fandom has been in love with Mary, Luke, and Alice since day one. One common fear within the fandom was that season 2 would feel like a completely different show, but at least in this episode, that wasn’t the case. The supporting characters were all prominently featured and given a good amount of emotional depth to cover - and seeing their journey helped the show feel familiar and helped carry us viewers over into this new era of Batwoman. And because the transition from Kate to Ryan was so well done, as I discussed in point 1, I didn’t feel like there was any absence or lacking in the show.

6. They did a great job carrying over that Kryptonite storyline from last season. In fact, it makes a lot more sense to me now. I was admittedly a bit confused by the whole Kryptonite storyline last season (it felt a bit like a mere device to facilitate Kate’s relationship with Kara - which, hey, I’m not complaining; I loved that friendship and think they should have hooked up once). Perhaps it was confusing since COVID cut it short. But whatever the reason, I’m glad that I now understand the deeper purpose behind this Kryptonite storyline. And, wow, this has the potential to be super cool and interesting!

7. They called out the Crows in a meaningful way. I think I’m not the only person who is a bit uncomfortable with the Crows in both concept and practice (yes, I do understand that they’re based on the comics, though). So I really appreciated—and found it super powerful—that it was Ryan who delivered the line “The Crows were dirty.” Sometimes I get confused as to whether Batwoman is portraying the Crows as good or bad, so lines like that give me comfort in knowing that the show at the very least acknowledges the problematic nature of an overmilitarized private police force that has been contracted out to have dominion over a city whose population includes a significant amount of low income people.

8. Bonus: They did good by the shippers. Batmoore shippers got some closure by observing Sophie’s grief process and hearing the letter Kate left her. Pennymoore shippers are certainly getting emotional and significant content for their ship. And for clowns like me, the show introduced a great new ship, Mary/Ryan, that I adore even though I know it won’t be canoning, lol.

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Commission Please!

Summary: In which concentrated bits of chaos meet a shy artist. Dedicated to @chibi-mushroom, my Namine-sensei and to whom I’m converting in to a bunny child appreciator. xD

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,210 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

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There was always something interesting happening in Disney Town. The colors, the sounds, the smells- it was nearly overwhelming as Namine breathed it all in. The atmosphere of the place always seemed to knock Namine slightly off guard every time she set foot in it. Disney Town was a very alive world, and all the experiences with it flowed through effortlessly. She was always so amazed that every day was different than the last- definitely a stark contrast to how she started out in the world. Today, Disney Town offered something new, something no one had seen before and was quite hard to ignore.

“Where on earth did all these bunny kids come from?!” Lea demanded once they entered town square. They were very hard to ignore. Every foot or so, there was at least one of the small, blue bunnies getting into some sort of trouble.

“Not sure,” Kairi said, just as a bunny kid hopped onto her head, bent down to look her in the eye, happily wave, then bound off of her head. She couldn’t hide her little giggle as she went on to add, “But they sure are cute.”

“Ri-ight.” Lea snorted. He looked down to see a bunny child at his feet. It stuck its tongue out at him before laughing rather maniacally. “They look about as cute as a wart on someone’s toe. Just as persistent too.”

“Lea!” Kairi admonished, gently smacking him with the back of her hand. The taller redhead did nothing to defend himself. Instead he gave them a charming little grin that feigned innocence.

Namine let out a little chuckle as well. Lea turned to her with the most hurt expression one could offer.

“Not you too, Namine!” he whined. “I thought we had amnesty once we became Somebodies. We’re good now!”

“Not when you’re still being cruel to innocent children.” Namine teased.

“I didn’t even touch them!”

Namine and Kairi looked at each other before dissolving into a round of giggles. Lea deflated, knowing that he was never going to win this argument. Their moment of fun was broken when a loud drum march started to play. The three looked up to find the source of the noise. Sure enough, there was a small group of bunny children with drums and leading a small parade filled with nothing but other blue bunny children. One of the bunnies in front was holding a banner reading ‘Lunch Time 4 Us!’ and waving it quite happily.

 In high, squeaky voices, the leading bunny children started to chant; 

“Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me!”

On cue, another round of tiny voices shouted as they joined the parade, “La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

“Hey there, hi there, ho there! You’re as welcome as can be!”

“La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

The chant continued as the parade marched their way through the square and into a cafe. 

“Well…” Kairi was the first to muse, “Guess we’re not going to eat in there.”

“Must be lunchtime.” Namine noted with a grin.

“Must be something.” Lea decided as he scratched the back of his head. All the while, the bunny children continued with their march.

“Uncle Mick!”

“Papa too!”

“Uncle Mick!”

“Papa too!”

“Forever let us hold our ice creams high!”

“High, high, high!”

“Come along and sing a song, and join the jamboree!”

“La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

The bunny children holding up the rear, who hadn’t entered the cafe yet, let out a cheer before slamming the cafe door behind them. The square was suddenly rather quiet without them all making a ruckus.

“I, for one, am glad they’re gone for now.” Lea told the girls. “That is not a song I want to have memorized.”

Kairi gave Namine a wicked glance before turning back to Lea. She didn’t give any warning before she opened her mouth to sing, “Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me?”

Lea suddenly went pale. “Kairi, no!”

“Hey there, hi there, ho there!”

“Kairi! I’m warning you!”

“You’re as welcome as can be!”

“This is your last chance!”

“Come along and sing a song, and join the jamboree!”

“That’s it, get over here so I can teach you a lesson!” Lea hollered as he barrelled at Kairi. Kairi herself let out a little yelp before bolting away. She then let out a joyful laughter as Lea chased her around the square, and out to a different area. Namine considered following them, but decided it was best they get their energy out. There certainly wasn’t any shortage of it in this world.

Instead, Namine made herself comfortable at a nearby bench and simply relaxed. After being accustomed to the energy of the world again, she carefully pulled out her drawing pad, some colored pencils, and did one of the most relaxing hobbies she had yet to replace; drawing.

She started with the square itself. The bench she was on was facing a nice gazebo, which in turn was framed rather well by the entrance to Disney Castle behind it. She wondered for a moment if she had enough colors in her palette to capture the atmosphere just right. If not, maybe it was time to experiment with cross hatching. As she got into her familiar, comfortable groove, Namine started to hum a few bars of the bunny kid’s march. It was a pretty catchy tune. She’d have to ask Riku if he was familiar with it- he came around Disney Town often enough to visit the King, he must have heard it at least once.

Quite some time passed as she drew. Namine didn’t even notice when some of the bunny children started to file out of the cafe. A little pack of four started to play in the gazebo. It looked like a rather fun game of hide and seek. Namine didn’t realize that she had started to draw the bunny children playing until she had finished shading the first blue bunny. She blinked at her page with mild bewilderment. She had heard stories about ‘automatic writers’ and how they would write whole letters by hand while supposedly controlled by some outside force. She didn’t personally believe them until she saw the blue bunnies in her drawing. It was like she didn’t even recognize her own ability.

“Hey fellas!” a high pitched voice said from beside her, succeeding in scaring Namine nearly out of her wits. She quickly looked to her left and saw one of the bunny kids standing next to her. Namine flinched when it whistled to get the other two’s attention.

Its siblings (she assumed they were all siblings, at least) immediately stopped what they were doing. They took a glance at Namine, then at the bunny beside her, then started to bounce on over. They stopped at her feet. Namine was so bewildered at the past minute’s events that she had to take another moment to register what was going on.

“Oh! Hello there.” she finally greeted. “Would you like to see what I drew?”

All four bunny children nodded their heads- the one that had surprised Namine had gone down with the rest of its siblings. There was power in numbers, and she had a feeling those blue bunnies were well aware of it. Despite herself, Namine carefully turned her drawing around for them to see. Her work was immediately accepted with a round of ‘oh’s and ‘aww’s. It made her heart flutter with pride. She felt rather selfish when the four bunnies decided to just up and leave without another word. Namine sighed, hoping that they’d come back, before going back to finish up a few bits on the drawing.

Her wish was granted quite a few minutes after. Just as she was finishing up her drawing, the four bunny children from earlier were coming back to her. At least, she assumed they were the same as before- it was hard to tell when those blue bunnies all looked the same. Regardless, Namine greeted them all with a bright smile.

“Hello again,” she said, “How can I help you?”

The bunny children all stared at the one bunny standing in the back. It was bashfully hiding something as it stepped forward. The other bunnies let out a pleased ‘ta-da!’ while the bashful bunny presented Namine with a flower. It wasn’t anything too special, probably plucked from the caste gardens based on its hue.

“O-oh, thank you.” Namine stammered. “But I don’t need-”

She stopped dead in her tracks- the pitiful, pleading faces of the bunnies made it increasingly hard to say no. After a moment of mental wrestling, Namine offered a smile.

“It’s very lovely.” she said  as she carefully took the flower. “Thank you. I’ll use it as a commission.”

The bunny children suddenly perked up. A new word had been spoken to them- one that they could already tell held the promise for more lovely drawings. They looked back up at her expectantly. Namine didn’t think herself that good at charades, but she could almost gather what they wanted to ask her.

“A commission is when you give something to someone in return for their goods. In this case, the flower is your commission for me drawing your picture earlier. Do you understand now?”

The bunny children looked at each other for a moment. They seemed to have a moment of revelation before turning back to Namine with a wide grin. In unison, the bunnies happily nodded.

“That’s good.” Namine smiled, giving them a happy nod of her own back to them.

Giving a grin that seemed rather mischievous in hindsight, the blue bunny children bounded off in different directions to do whatever it was they planned on next. Namine wasn’t aware that she was going to be a part of this plan. Not yet. For now, she decided to put her drawing things away to go find Lea and Kairi. She hadn’t seen them since they ran out a good hour ago. Not that she expected anything bad to happen to them, but still. You never knew in their world.

Thankfully, both Kairi and Lea were safe when Namine found them. Apparently they had raced each other to the go-kart track, which then proceeded to be an even more heated race between them. Namine had caught them at the end of their sixth round.

“Who won?” Namine curiously asked.

“I did!” Kairi boasted at the same time Lea mumbled, “She did.”

Namine afforded a small laughter. With the three of them together again, they decided that it was likely time to get something to eat. On their way back to the square, a large hoard to bunny children came bounding to the trio. They bunnies were so packed together that it was just a sea of rippling blue. Not sure of what to do, or where the bunnies were even heading, Lea, Namine, and Kairi simply stopped in their tracks.

“I don’t like how they’re in a stampede.” Lea murmured to the girls. “Who do you think they’re going to terrorize? That’s a terrorizing formation if I’ve ever seen it.”

The girls just shrugged, but they got their answer soon enough. The hoard stopped right at Namine’s feet. A fact that didn’t surprise her nearly as much until a few started to stack on top of each other. They continued to stack until the bunny child on top was at about Namine’s eye level.

“Hi!” the top bunny child happily said, giving a wave so energetic that it made the tower wobble a bit. The bunny didn’t give anyone time to react before pulling out a picture of their own. It was rather crudely done, but it was still easy to depict a black cat with a pink shirt and matching little hat. Putting on a wide grin, the bunny child told Namine, “This is our mama.”

“We want to surprise her!” one of the bunny kids in the stack said.

“Please draw us for Mama.” another bunny said.

“Draw us for Mama! Draw us for Mama!” the rest of the hoard chanted.

For the longest time, Namine was speechless. When she did try to say something, it only came out in a strangled, “I…” as she looked to Kairi and Lea. They seemed just as overwhelmed as she was.

The bunny children must have been expecting this because a few others formed a second stack. This time, the bunny on top was holding a rather large sack that, when shook, sounded like munny twinkling inside.

“We’ll commission you.” the bunny at the top of the second stack grinned.

“It’s all our allowance!” the hoard cheered at once. “63,000 munny!”

Lea let out a low whistle. “That’s a LOT of Mega-Potions…”

Indeed it was, and it only caused more conflict inside Namine. Why was it so hard to say no to troublemakers when they were being so earnest? Maybe it’s because the bunny children were still just that- children. They weren’t perfect, but when they put their heart into something, it was all they desired. It was admirable. It was hard to say no to.

“Sure.” Namine then decided, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to take it back later. “Why not?”

The bunny children cheered.

[tobebugjewce]

THE WALTEN FILES: my jumbled notes on my blind run-in with this web series

first off this is gonna be long and unorganized, also this is my second time writing this as i had lost literally half of my progress and im This (imagine two fingers almost touching with a 0.0000000001mm distance between them) close to ripping all of the fucking hair out of my goddamn head. but now this will be extra long and yes, i will lose some accuracy to my first writing but thats okay ill probably edit this a kajillion times over

which brings me to my next tangent; im literally braindumping here. so to have a smidge of organization all afterthoughts, edits and corrections will be boldened, i forgot what im gonna do with italicized text but ill probably bolden it here yeah im pretty sure its for side tangents, separate from Corrections, which are in bold. also theyre for emphasis too.

so in general, this post right here is all of my notes i wrote down on my grid-patterned sticky notes (which i used WAYYYY too much of) about the first 3 uploaded walten files youtube videos transferred onto my handy dandy digital notebook, this b(l)og. yeppers peppers. you know im serious about this shit when i typed probably over like a thousand fucking words including boldened shit, italicized shit and motherfucking links, lost it ALL, and im sitting here re-typing it again.

i feel bad about this but im not gonna trigger warn right here, but this is technically a warning. if you want a list of triggers as to what this post (and the walten files in general) i will link a little list to that here

without further a doo doo, (mama mia) here the fucking fuck we go again.

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #1

clarifying this now, im gonna put some useless shit which i thought was code onto this because even though it was useless it was part of my notes and im physically going to combust if i dont put down every single thing i wrote on my papers. so what i thought was code was in the closed captions, i started writing it down when i got to the second video but came back to my first videos notes to include them. i wrote down the first letter to every word that was capitalized in the closed captions, which i had on as a default because number one i knew going into this id need them because most web horror things like args and cryptic shit like that has some of the most crucial shits in the closed captions. number two i am autistic and have auditory processing issues and have most closed captioning on as a default if theyre available.

firstly jotted, i wrote down the closed captions “code” so im gonna put the rest here too: HYWITB(BSI)Y A(BSI)BJWFKWITW ILHHFSBBSBTLBWI USOISTBNBSFIRBCAWHSHCBWHTAIGRNB*C*BTWLTSFA(20)MCFP ILITIIACPH(1978, 1979)SA(4)YTSCH*C*OGSSU SFTGRPATDBBUTFBNLLCHMIHLBRALLCLAYTUKB*LC*WHATWASTHATTHING 

the numbers in parenthesis are there because i wasnt sure they should be included in the “code” or not. i also thought of this with the BSI - bunny smiles incorporated and also the years 1978 and 1979. the shits in asterisks are coughs and light coughs, which were capitalized in the closed captions so i included them too just in case

i then jotted, in parenthesis of course, the names of the animatronics when they were listed in the animation section of the video; bon aka the blue bunny, sha aka the sheep one, boozoo aka the clown<3 honk<33, and banny aka the purpled eyelashed up one who is also a bunny btw. also i got boozoo the clown and boozoo the mustache guy confused because apparently the clowns name is billy???? but they named “boozoo” in bons sleepover and showed the clown? idk maybe im an idiot and theyre the same or just an idiot and theyre different or a super mega (matt and ryan?!?!??) idiot in general which is probably the case

i started drawing little stars to write down things i thought would be super important or to 100% look at again. the first subject of this pointy torture was the part of the video where at 3:00, i marked it down to make sure to reverse the audio as it was most definitely a weird audio that has that signature warp-y effect that makes sure you KNOW its in reverse. i then listened back to it Very carefully (still got it wrong) and got this: “you finally start to remember. that old doll. they will look out for you soon” im also pretty sure i heard “sophie” at the end of that audio but im not entirely sure and dont remember and i dont wanna go back to check lmfao but anyways it didnt matter because i was wrong anyway. after i had finished all 3 walten files i watched the film theory video on the walten files (which didnt cover all 3 but was dece.) out of curiosity and to hear matpats signature silly little voice explain some stuff i already knew, and click some shit in my brain that i couldve thought up of if i was a bit more... i dont know honestly. anyways yeah so the actual audio is “you finally start to remember. that old day. they will look out for you soon.” so yeah. day, not doll.

i then wrote down “sarah evelyn”, the name on the bons sleepover animation (i dont remember if she created it or animated it or whatnot) and scribbled will she matter? under her name. turns out no, as i didnt see her name in the rest of the series, let alone the first video. this is also a great time to mention how matpat theory helped me realize that the walten files are collections of videos, uploaded onto youtube by anthony. (i already knew about anthony as he signed his name in the descriptions of the youtube videos, making me categorize this overall web series more into an arg type genre.) but yes, the tapes, recorded “irl” footage, animated clips, vhs tape recordings and other audio-visual content is all collected and labeled the walten files, as i had mistaken each video to be a tape. stupid me. alrighty, onward!

i starred this one, good for me; MISSING: Jack Walten LAST SEEN: 06/11/1974

i jotted down with an arrow that; sophie was a nightguard? she was wearing the uniform explained in tape 2 i dont know why but i went back into my video 1 notes after i had watched video 2. organization purposes. i guess.?? 

i then paused the video when the screen flickered a date, the beginning of video footage dated 10/10/1982 (Brian Stells?) god my little genius ass assuming the videographer was brian stells, based on the id card i saw earlier.

i then wrote down what text i saw on the dead, mangled, bloody body in the purple security suit; “i cant feel anything” “he thought i was her” then drew a little arrow pointing to; thought brian was sophie? or ashley? i also starred the name Brian Stells this is totally out of order LMFAOOOOOOOO also i wrote down ashley because, again, my little pea brain went back on my video 1 notes after watching video 2. but yep thats all i wrote for The Walten Files 1 - Company Introductory Tape

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #2 

Tape #1 - created 07/02/1978

awesome how thats first and foremost in the captions. god. so sexy of you martin walls. /j /nsx

this pack of notes is chunkier because again, like i have mentioned before i am an absolute goober and thought the capitalized letters of the words would actually mean something. I MEAN MAYBE THEY DO AND IM JUST DOING IT WRONG but i stopped doing it after this video because holy shit it was exhausting and my stupid little fingers couldnt take the writing anymore becasue i am WEAK. 

so write off the bat (squeak) i wrote down 197[] the blacked out rectangle over the last digit of that year and everything im also now assuming its probably 1978 or 1974 because lore reasons but whos to say but yeah i also wrote down this;

Tape #2 - created 08/13/1978

then, straight up in the beginning of the video i caught it, the flash of text, as i had by now realized i gotta be SUPER stupid focused on the screen in case i miss anything, i wanted to be crazy precise on my theorizing and mental notes, among other things. but yes i saw it, the first half of a youtube link;  “https://youtu” 

claps hands together and rubs them evilly. oh yeah baby. thats the hot lunch. this shit right here? the cats pajamas. lets fucking go.

i wrote down this goofy shit i pasued to inspect when i saw bon sorting through a file cabinet and naturally scribbled down the labels and other written things i could see on the files; 

relocate X/X/75 felix

storage K-9 07/23/1975 felix k(ranken)

Bons Burgers 06/28/1974 Jack Walten

Shipping Service 1975

New Location -> 1982

i also wrote down more goofy shit, like when banny was created for some reason; in 1974

starred, i noted to go back and reverse the audio at 5:09, when played back, i didnt write it down so i dont remember. lmao.

i also marked to screenshot and brighten the darkened image i saw at 5:20, i was going to do it on my phone then realized i can just do it on my computer so i quickly took a screenshot, brightened it and wrote down what i saw; a missing person poster that read MISSING: SUSAN WOODINGS(?) Last seen: 1974 i was very unsure of the spelling of her last name because the image was so goddamn low quality and grainy but its what i saw. this is where tape #3 gets thrown in, which im gonna type again because i like how the formatting looks;

Tape #3 - created 07/09/1978 (BEFORE tape 2?!//1/1??? its more likely than you think)

i wrote down more dates, any dates i saw, i jotted down. i wrote; 

Technical Support 1978 

then, 

Brian Stells (for some reason i dont remember right now)

alrighty this is where the stupid capitalized letters come in, but before it looks like i vomit a keysmash time infinity on this, ill put down the little inbetween things i wrote in the midst of the caps lockalypse like timestamps and stuff, so here you go;

- Reverse at 8:16 which i did but of course didnt write down what i heard. i think it was too warbled to hear anything clear out of it, or it was just the good ol auditory processing issues fucking me over yet again. WAIT yep yes i did here it is: “rosemary would go to the restaurant every night hoping that [her] beloved husband would reappear after being missing for weeks but no response until one day [s]he heard a voice [saying] ‘i know where he is rosie’ coming from the back stage” the bracketed stuff is the corrections, i misheard the audio and thought the audio said “his”, “he” and “singing” like a nimrod

- Brighten at 10:14 which was another missing person poster, but i dont think it had any information on it because i didnt write it down, just;

- Sophie again (pic at 9:08?) (dismemberd and put in Sha) i was stupid and wrong haha idiot it was rosemary who was put in sha but anywho

i starred and underlined a huge thing i discovered which was;

- Walten had 3 kids which i dont remember how i found out but it doesnt matter, its good important info i uncovered.

- Tape #4 - Unkown Date

- recorded 07/12-07/14 1978 

- Hilary B, Ashley P & Kevin W i made sure to get these names down as soon as i saw them on screen but then realized shortly after i wouldnt really need to have it as the closed captions made sure i knew which person was talking by using their first initial (capitalized of course) before each line of text. this is the perfect time to announce the arrival of the clusterfuck of capital letters, which is going to include colons which will indicate that the letter before it is the initial of the person talking. without further aedue, here comes another chinese earthquake;

TCWTSTATO(K-9)TBSSFWFCNEHAWBSUBIUC(BSIIDC)OWHISF INBIJTILNSPL(K-9)LCSCKCCCWTTLTLITTTYROTFAJAMHPYYSTCSPMBBWSBIB H:NTPPCCK:DA:HH:YCPRPMWTCBCRAWK:JH:SYYTCPBACPSTBAWCA:TK(?):FMTTCMK:TCPNOA:DTOFK:ITNPPRA:YBUTIRRFH:HKIBESRAIA:TCK:WA:WPCCFTRRIDPEH:GGK:GPA:LKK:WA:HNCGTKMK:YH:IGKA:ESK:MFH:RK:HILRLBNTRPPUWHITRRTPEIFEPH:YWBEBPK:MAHPBTRPTRPEL(LN)HTACPKLIKHPFITSKLTKLB(LB?)ISIBSUBIPRW AEBATHSPUAICTPURTWBBRPHTRTIIIILTCITCUCCP S(bpe, be)WA”IDCPBPSIB

holy shit its finally over okay now onto some MORE of what i wrote down in between and also after that keysmash attack;

12 doors? (backrooms) 27? 26? i was unsure because ashley was unsure too lmfao

found cassette (6/11/78) <- says “discard”? yeah it did

Tape in clown audio, speaking voice; jack, susan, charles(?), rosemary, sophie, last word sounds like “walrus” it was walten lmfao

Ashley died? yeah she did lmfao OR AT LEAST I THINK SO??

starred this one, Reverse @ 17:06, then got this;

“they left the next day, they thought ashley left early, but she was in the backdoors, screaming as much as she could, but no one heard the screams, the following days the caretakers would complain about an awful smell coming from the backdoors, company decided to shut down facility until new advice, the relocate project was unsuccessful. ashley is still there, but she is not screaming anymore, she saw something she wasnt supposed to see and now shes beautiful” the phrase “shes beautiful” was repeating like a bajillion times in that wall of text. then, god motherfuckng bless: 

at 17:23 i found the other half of the youtube link, “.be/k07QqEDOfQ” i pieced that bad boy together as instant as i think any form of ramen could never be, but remained ever patient. because i made sure to jot down this before moving onto my next segment;

@ end of vid 2, “shadow man sees* me when lights go off” im an idiot *it was actually “feeds” not “sees”, which AGAIN, i only found out after watching the stupid little film theory video *begins snarling and foaming at the mouth*

okay im not proud to admit im editing this to post it and realized ive lost my notes. well. 

might as well post what ive got! if i find my shit ill add onto this, i suppose.

[sarcastically-defensive17]

Negatives? - C. Hood

Hello my lovies! This is the anticipated second part of “Benefits?”!! Didn’t think we could get angstier but here we are!! I apologise in advance!

Masterlist will be updated soon! Hope you enjoy! More requests will be filled very soon!

Original story by sarcastically-defensive17

9 months. 9 months of longing, of pain, of loneliness. 9 months of being cooped up inside of his own head because he was too ignorant and rude to admit that he hadn’t buried his feelings for Y/N.

Drew made Y/N smile, but he knew that he could do better. He made her laugh, yet she laughed heartier when Calum would joke with her. Drew kissed her, yet Calum knew he would do better.

But he didn’t deserve her. Not in any way, shape or form. He had ruined his chances with her the minute he told her she wasn’t good enough to be with him.

Every interaction between the former friends was cold. Y/N looked as if she were fighting back tears and Calum often had to leave the room as his own fell. The band knew what happened between the two; they had been there to pick up the pieces for Calum as Y/N called their manager to quit and took off. She was determined to prove Calum wrong, and everybody knew it.

She kept Sierra up to date with her whereabouts, and job prospects. The two had grown closer as the older woman comforted Y/N. Sierra, in turn, kept Luke updated, and he the rest of the band - except Calum. Whenever he heard her name, he would get angry. It took him months to realise that his anger wasn’t directed towards Y/N, but himself. He let her get away. He was scared to open up. He got defensive, rude, nasty. He broke her heart and stomped on it as he left. All for what?

Drew knew nothing of the relationship between the two, just that they were once friends. He didn’t pry, nor did he try to figure out why the two didn’t talk, he simply made sure to comfort Y/N in anyway after a long day.

Things came to a head very quickly as they hit their 12th show of the tour. The entirety of the trip had been tense. There were very few photos of Calum captured, blatant ignorance as Calum tried to speak to Y/N and many outbursts of anger from the pair. Ashton and Michael had enough.

One fine, aesthetically pleasing Tuesday afternoon, the two broke the ambient air with their shouting. All because of the lack of Calum content on the band Instagram.

“If I see one more comment asking for more Calum, I might scream. There’s enough me content. We don’t need him,” Michael whined, scrolling through Instagram on his phone as Y/N sat next to him, back leaned against Drew, laptop on her lap.

“I think we might need to get some more pictures of the man up there, Y/N,” Luke said, his voice soft, eyes softer. He sent her a sympathetic smile, knowing exactly why there is an acute lack of the Maori man.

Calum scoffed from the other side of the room. They were all situated in Ashton’s hotel room, empty pizza boxes on the tables and floor in front of them. “Why would she do that?”

“Cal,” Luke warned, only to be interrupted by his other friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I was good enough to take pictures of you,” Y/N spat, not looking up from her device. “Do it yourself. After all, any genius could do it, right?” The venom made everybody recoil, bar Calum.

He made an interested sound, walking closer to where she was sitting. “Tough words, careful. You might up and run away again, Y/N.” He was mad. She had left them all. She didn’t even give him the chance to talk about it when he wasn’t angry. She blocked his number as soon as she left. She cut him out of her life.

Y/N slammed her laptop shut, standing faster than anybody expected. Her and Calum were practically face-to-face at this point. Ashton was on his feet, surprised at the speed of escalation. “My time of taking photos of narcissistic, degrading assholes is over. Go find somebody else to toy with, Calum.”

“Still playing the victim, are we-“

“Enough!” Ashton had hit his point. For too long, the pair had been making the trip uncomfortable. It was putting a strain on the performance of everybody, and now causing issues with the fans. “Y/N sit down. Calum you sit over there and shut your damn mouth for a minute. Everybody else, get out.” It was rare for Ashton to lose his cool. He was the most composed of all of them, and often played the part of the most mature band member. It was a well known fact that when Ashton had enough, it was time for things to be sorted before shit hit the fan for good. As he ordered, everybody filed out except for the two in question. Y/N sat with a scowl on her face, arms folded across her chest as she chewed at the inside of her cheek. Calum sat on the bed across the room, facing the other direction for fear of lashing out again.

“Ashton what is going on-“

“Zip it, sugarface,” he raised a finger to Y/N silencing her with the gesture. “Enough is enough. This shit keeps going on and it is affecting all of us.” His brow was furrowed deep, jaw set and red hair mirroring his mood adequately. “Calum, you fucked up big time. Y/N you ran off and cut all contact. We have 7 hours until our show, and our sound check starts in 4 hours. You have two and a half to sort this shit out, or we will sort out other arrangements.”

“Ashton, this really isn’t necessary-“

“I don’t care. I’m leaving now and you’re stuck in here. I suggest sorting this out because we have all had enough of it.”

Y/N nodded, watching Calum closely across the room. He stayed silent, back still turned towards his friend and the woman he loved. This was his chance to explain everything, but it could also be his change to ruin things more than they already are. Given his track record, he wouldn’t be surprised if the tables shifted in favour of the latter.

The door closed behind Ashton, silence enveloping the room and making the air more heavy. Y/N felt the discomfort settle on top of the air, weighing it down on her skin until she felt as if her head were spinning.

Half an hour passed. They sat on either sides of the room still, both holding their words in out of spite.

“Why did you leave?” The words fell from his lips before he could think about them. It had been playing on his mind for so long. After a few days, when he had cooled down, he wanted to call her. He wanted to tell her that he was scared and angry and frustrated at himself. That he didn’t want somebody like her to be ruined by him and the life he lived.

“What?” She snipped, not looking up from her phone.

“Why did you leave?” He repeated.

A humorless laugh left her lips, much like the night he saw her last. “You’re joking, right? How could you expect me to stay after that?”

He finally turned to face her, she looked disinterested. Her attention was on her phone - probably messaging drew, he thought - and definitely not on the conversation they were meant to be having. Even after so long, she was still so beautiful in his eyes. Her temper was overwhelming, but she never showed anger towards another unless she had been wrong, and boy, did he do her wrong.

“I tried to apologise, Y/N. I called you, texted-“

“And I waited, Calum.” She was mad, yet calm. Her eyes were burning with fury, jaw clenched hard as she gritted words through teeth. “I waited two days. I got nothing from you, you ignored my calls, and I had enough.”

He huffed, a heavy breath leaving his nostrils, “So because I ignored you for a few days, you left? You left us without a photographer, without a friend, just to go screw around with the Chainsmokers?” He was angry. So was she. He was standing. She was sitting, phone clenched between white knuckles.

“I left,” she was on her feet now, almost chest-to-chest with him and radiating far more anger than he had ever seen, “because you not only degraded and embarrassed me, you criticized my career. I was terrified to open up to you. I knew you wouldn’t feel the same because I was hold never be good enough for you, but I tried. I tried to be open and all I got was made a mockery out of and told that I was practically worthless in my position working with the band.” She stepped closer to him, now at a point where they could stare at one another. Her phone had been thrown aside now, flung from her fingers as she stood. “I spent seven years with you all. I was there for you through everything. I fell in love with you, Calum. And you destroyed it within an hour.”

Her words were venomous, cutting deep along Calum’s heart and allowing the reality to finally, completely, sink in. He caused this. He made her leave because he treated her confession as a joke. He is the reason she is with Drew now, no longer his friend, or his lover. Or even his coworker. It is all his fault.

He slumped down onto the seat next to him, holding his head in his hands and trying to compose himself. He couldn’t even apologise, for he didn’t trust his voice.

“I gave you everything, Calum, and you threw it back in my face. How could I stick around?” She couldn’t look at him. Whether it was out of anger or sadness, or even fear of him making a fool of her again. She couldn’t bring herself to do it, so she turned around, staring out of the window of the hotel room.

They had a nice view, and she allowed it to distract her eyes from harboring tears.

She heard the rustling of fabric behind her, along with the creak of the chair beneath Calum. The soft padding on carpet told her that he was walking closer to her.

“I-“ he started, taking in a breath. She could hear the emotion. “I can’t begin to tell you how much I hate myself for what I did to you that day, Y/N.” He had tears streaming down his face, she could see so in the reflection in the window. “I don’t know why I said those things. I should never have told you that you weren’t good enough, or insulted the career that you built for yourself. I’ve been replaying that day over and over since it happened, Y/N. I knew that I loved you four years ago, and hearing you say it, after I tried my hardest to push down those feelings - I don’t know why but I got so defensive-“

“Shut your mouth.” She hissed, turning and allowing her anger to resurface. “For fuck sakes, Calum. Don’t try and play with my head again. You didn’t love me, not like that.”

“I loved you more than I have loved anybody else, Y/N.” He whispered, voice steady and his eyes not leaving hers. He was telling the truth, and they both knew it. “I fell in love with you so many years ago. I didn’t want to do anything to ruin this, but then you told me what I had been dying to hear for so long.” He sniffed, brushing tears away aggressively as he pressed his palms into his eyes. “I’m an idiot.”

“I can’t help but agree with you.” Y/N turned away from the window, the view no longer appealing as her own reflection became far too evident, along with Calum’s.

Another few minutes passed, both now situated in the seats they previously occupied. Y/N had her knees pulled up to her chest, picking at her fingernails. Calum was staring at his feet.

“I’ve found that if I close my eyes, I can sometimes pretend that Drew is you,” Y/N whispered. Her voice was full of pain. She was still processing the information that Calum had fed her. Still trying to figure out what to say to him. She figured the truth was better than anything. “I want - I wanted a future with you, Calum. I wanted to be able to wake up knowing that the man I loved, loved me back. That the man who knew me better than anybody else, was there with me. Hearing you say those things to me was the worst thing I could have experienced.”

“Y/N, I-“

“I hate to say it, but I still love you. I still wish that every time I fell asleep with Drew, it was you beside me. It’s easy to pretend.” Her own tears fell. “I can’t forgive you so easily. I can’t just forget everything that you said. I can’t forget how much I want to be with you.”

“Just one more chance, Y/N, please?” Calum was focused solely on her. He was ready and willing to be down on his knees, begging to have her in his life again. Not even for love. He would be fine to simply be able to watch a movie with her, joke with her. Love her like he did before. “I know I can’t make up for it right now, but I love you so much. I would spend the rest of my life showing you how sorry I am, if you would let me. You deserve far better than me.”

For possibly the millionth time, Y/N was at a loss for words. Calum kept his vulnerability from many people, but Y/N could often read him like a book. Unfortunately, he could do the same for her.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now, we have a few more months of the tour left. Whatever you decide, I’ll be fine with. You never want to see me again, I’ll stay away. You want to give me a second chance, and I will spend every day of our life together making up for all of the years that I kept my mouth shut and the horrible things I said to you and the pain I caused you for the past nine months.”

A sob tore from her throat, her eyes clenched as she let his words hit her soul.

Thankfully, the door clicked. It opened cautiously, a head of red hair poking through, Ashton eyeing the pair warily.

“I can’t do this right now, Cal,” Y/N blurted, taking the chance to rise to her feet and push past Ashton and the other guys. Drew watched after her with confusion, as did Luke and Michael.

Ashton glared at Calum, “You suck at apologizing.”

Tag list: @starshonerose @theanswertoeverythingisl0v3 @mantlereid @another-lonely-heart

[theepsizet]

Let’s talk about Allison and Tom

There’s been a discussion regarding these two characters: an Alice and her Boris and there’s also been a lot of theories regarding them and/or their identities. So this post is basically me slapping my thoughts on the table. And here it is:

Allison Angel and Tom!Boris are in fact Allison Pendle and Thomas Connor. But you can’t take everything about them presented in BATIM for granted.

This theory first came from this video by MatPat, whose main subject was to discuss Henry and even had good backing reasoning/evidence for his status and what-he-is in-game. He also mentions how Allison and Tom’s names aren’t on coffins and therefore can’t be Allison Pendle and Thomas Connor. If anything, they’re actually soulless; Joey was unable to get their souls.

First problem: MatPat completely glosses over a detail confirmed by Joey in Chapter 5 from this audio log:

“Listen Tommy, I know you boys over at Gent are doing your best, but I'm paying for living attractions, not weird abominations! Whatever that grinning thing was I saw wandering around your office, you better keep it locked up tight! I realize it was a first attempt but imagine if the press caught sight of it! Might scare off investors! And in response to your previous memo: If you claim your failures are because these things are soulless, then, damn it, we'll get them a soul! After all, I own thousands of 'em!”

Did you get that? The reason Ink Bendy is off-model is because he doesn’t possess a soul. If they were soulless, Allison and Tom would look... pretty demonic. But they’re not; they’re on-model, resembling their cartoon counterparts near-perfectly (the biggest difference is, of course, their attire such as Allison’s ponytail and dress and Tom’s robotic arm)

Second problem: He never explains why their names are Allison Angel and Tom. MatPat doesn’t elaborate on this fact and just calls them that and moves on with the video.

So, my take. The game files reveal unused secret messages, and these messages do in fact reveal that Allison and Tom’s names are absent; confirming that they don’t have coffins:

(originally posted by thedreamfisher)

So, they’re alive, right? Well...

In Chapter 4 there’s an audio log labeled “Untitled”. The entire audio log is just somebody gruesomely transforming into an ink monster, most likely a searcher if one goes off of the moaning. According to the game files, its Grant Cohen. Not to mention, in the first BATDR gameplay trailer, look what happens to Audrey’s hand when she uses her power:

(originally posted by thedreamfisher)

When Audrey uses her power, her hand changes. It literally turns into ink. Both these scenarios confirm that killing people and stuffing their souls through a machine isn’t the only way to reincarnate people as living cartoons. My theory is that at some point, Allison Connor exchanged enough letters with Joey that he could convince her and Thomas to return to the studio. Similar to Henry, they became so exposed to the ink that it literally transformed them into perfect toons. They were then reborn from the ink produced by the Giant Machine (we’ll get back to this). The dark truth is that, Allison Angel and Tom!Boris are Joey’s best outcomes from his experiment. Not to mention, Allison says this to Henry:

“I... I honestly don't know my name. So they call me Alice.”

“He [Tom] just seems to respond to it [his name].”

It’s a fact that the ink corrupts the mind. Sammy’s Hot Topic Q&A confirms that his memory deteriorated, and considering that these answers come from when Sammy is The Prophet, it wouldn’t be too unlikely to conclude that the ink did this to him. So, when Allison and Tom were reborn, the ink corrupted their minds so much they basically became amnesiac.

Speaking of reborn, notice what Allison says when talking about the ink in general and why she can’t come with Henry for the final battle:

“...you don't want to touch the ink for too long. It can claim you, pull you back.”

“We can't! We're not like you, Henry. If we go in there, well... a drop of water in the ocean is never seen again.”

It wouldn’t be surprising that they were born out of the bigger ink machine (and we have now officially come back to this). Given its size, the smaller one — the actual one, the one that — wouldn’t be able to produce enough ink to fill entire caverns (the underground levels). It also makes a lot of sense given the context: too much ink would make them unable to fight back, and too little wouldn’t do much effect at all. Both would literally become a drop of water in the ocean if they went with Henry. Not to mention that the first phrase is similar to part of Twisted Alice’s monologue when Henry enters her lair:

“Take this little freak for instance! He crawled in here... trailing his tainted ink to my door! It could have touched me! It could have pulled me back! Do you know what it's like? Living in the dark puddles? It's a buzzing, screaming well of voices! Bits of your mind, swimming like, like fish in a bowl! The first time I was born from its' inky womb, I was a wriggling, pussing, shapeless slug. The second time... well... it made me an angel! I will not let the demon touch me again.”

Now, here’s what I mean when I say you can’t take every word of there’s for granted. The truth is that it’s entirely clear what their motivations and there are several instances where things seem highly suspicious regarding these two:

In Allison and Tom’s hideout, Allison’s graffiti contains a list of levels that are crossed out. If one reviews the cutscene at the beginning of the chapter, it is revelated that throughout Henry’s time as prisoner, the levels are listed and then crossed out, as well as more of her drawings being inscribed onto the walls. It’s almost like they’re looking for something

There’s, weirdly enough, graffiti of the Seeing Tool outside the Administration Lobby. Were they done in that level before? If not, why is it there?

Considering that both of them are pretty experienced around the studio (Allison does know what the Lost Harbor is, and is a professional swordsmaster), Allison doesn’t even use her sword to slice off the boards of the prison cell door. Tom even has an axe and doesn’t do anything.

Tom starts off completely distrustful and treating Henry through spite. He almost immediately becomes part of Henry’s side.

Allison asks Henry to lead the way down the floorless hall. Even after she calls out his name, she doesn’t really grab on top him; she just let’s him fall (although this statement is confusing on its own as Henry falls way to fast for him to look up and see their reactions; its probably not even possible to see their reactions without hacking)

(originally posted on this page and this page of the Bendy wiki)

@thedreamfisher​ suggests that they could be manipulating Henry. and to be honest, yeah... that’s exactly what they’re doing. Why they’re doing it, though, is difficult to pin down, but my theory — yes, that is the theory part — is maybe because of one obvious fact: Henry isn’t like them at all. Allison even says this is why she and Tom can’t really trust them, and Twisted Alice confirms he’s “so interesting... so different...”. Compare this to the way Allison talks to Audrey in the BATDR trailers (this and this). She’s a lot more open, honest, more like a mentor and willing to tell her a lot more than she would to Henry, possibly because she resembles that of a lost one (why Henry’s avatar is completely invisible when hacking and what is a subject to debate for another time).

Allison knows Henry is different and may be manipulating Henry because she wants to turn off the machine. Tom too. Why do you think she calls him “the hope [she’s] been waiting for” and tells him that he “[can] set [them] free”. But, here’s the catch: this doesn’t make them bad. There’s been a number of theories that they’re bad people, but this manipulation only shows they have good intentions; if anything, they’re more of the most basic, generic definition of antihero.

And this makes even more sense when the conversation between Buddy Lewek, Allison Pendle, and Thomas Connor is reviewed in Chapter. It’s a lot of dialogue, and I’m not going to copy and paste the entire thing, but the most important anecdotes is that they hint to have more knowledge of the machine and its functions than the average employee. They also imply two things: they seem to be aware of Susie’s fate (most likely what happened after Joey gave her an offer hinted in audio logs in Chapter 4 and 5) and that they can’t stop Joey at all. It’s hinted by Allison that she and Tom both needed the job, and that they committed to his decisions because of the pay. Tom mentions how Joey treated him well, and Joey claims from a memo to clipped in the Joey Drew Studios Employee Handbook that he’s fascinated by Allison and her personality.

So... yeah. That’s it. Feel free to comment.

(One-finale note: The idea/credit of Allison and Tom being born out of the bigger ink machine and the manipulation aspect all goes to thedreamfisher. Do not give me credit for this idea) 

[pies-writes-and-more]

aethra

Word Count: 4,368

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: F L U F F :D

A/N: Instalment #4 in @wxstedhexrt​‘s and my Falling collection! Series Masterlist can be found HERE. Please read the poem first as it is the whole centrepiece of the fanfic :) If you need or would like a typed out version of the poem instead of the photo below, here’s the link to it on Destiny’s blog :) Thankfully the parts are getting more and more fluffy :D 

aethra (Latin): brightness, splendor; clear sky

Y/N watched as the sun rays glided into her office space, leaving the kiss of warmth on each surface it touched. In her chilly AC filled office room, Y/N longed for the sunlight and found that her bottom lip pouted out slightly every time a cloud flickered over the golden flashes.

Ping. Another email, as if dragging Y/N back from her never ending daydreams to the boringness of paperwork. She was quickly learning that being an Avengers was not just fast action but also the painfully slow task of doing reports.

I need those mission reviews done for tomorrow afternoon, is that alright? Tony’s brief and unsigned email made Y/N groan slightly. She knew he didn’t really need the reports, he was just trying to make sure she got used to filing paperwork quickly after a job. She sent off a quick response back to him with the completed half of the work attached to the email so he could see that she wasn’t just lazing around, and then opened up the files for the next few.

If this were any other day, Y/N would be drilling through these files quickly, marking them completed and clapping her hands together, ready for more work. But today, Y/N’s brain decided it would be nice to be out in the sun. She craved the feeling of just sitting in the sunlight, maybe a nice breeze to send goosebumps up her skin, the feeling of a nice warm hug from someone special-

The thought made her blush and she knew it was because of who she was imagining being with. Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.

The thought of him drew a from her lips so slowly, she had to laugh at herself for being so typical of someone in love. Nat and Wanda and teased her endlessly about this the other day, sighing like she was a character in an old romance novel where a suitor had sent her a letter in which he had proclaimed his entire heart was hers. She couldn’t help how her body reacted when she thought about him, even if she wasn’t all too ready to admit the feelings causing it.

Her eyes drifted back at the first page of her report, thoughts of Bucky fluttering away. In a whole complex full of superheroes, I wonder if I could ever be saved from paperwork, Y/N chuckled to herself, straightening her posture and getting to work. If Tony said this work needed to be done, she really shouldn’t dillydally.

But after one document was completed, Y/N’s mind quickly started drifting again, deciding that she deserved a nice long break for doing so little work. She knew that she should buckle down and focus, force herself to get this done but her eyes just kept going to the blue skies and green trees she had as a window view from her small second floor office. She wondered what the flowers smelled like on this gorgeous spring day. What did it feel like to have that nice breeze flying by? Was it a warm breeze? Was it humid out? Was it the kind of cool breeze you wanted to just stop and close your eyes and appreciate?

A flying object hit her window with a small tap, making her jump with surprise. She waited a moment, eyes scanning the glass, wondering if maybe the wind had carried some debris. But as soon as she accepted this as a reason, two other small stones came and made consecutive taps at her window.

Y/N paused and slowly rolled her desk chair over to the window. She peered down at the ground, smiling to find the man of her daydreams standing there. He gave a shy sort of wave, nodding at her window. She stood up to open it, leaning against the frame so she could see him better. “Trying to break my window there, Sergeant?” She teased.

His laugh was carried up to her with the soft breeze that blew by, as if air nymphs were flying past to say hello with the gift of the most melodious sound she could think of. Bucky had this nervous smile on his face and it was only then she noticed the small basket he had next to him. “I was wondering…” he hesitated and glanced at his things, shifting on his feet. “If you’re not too busy, and if you are, you can say no so don’t worry-” he added quickly.

Y/N wondered if it was the warm glow of the sun or if there really was a pink hue to his cheeks right now. “You seem a little nervous today, Sergeant. Everything alright?” She giggled, leaning her chin into her hands as she watched the pink colour on his cheeks grow.

Bucky’s lips were still spread into a grin as he wrestled with what to say next, “Would you skip the rest of the work day with me? Come enjoy this gorgeous weather?”

Y/N wondered how he could’ve possibly known how eager she was to leave. Here she was, in this super cute spring dress, longing for nothing more than to just relax and bathe in the sun and he was here, offering just that. Y/N nodded eagerly in response to his question but her eyes turned back to the door of her office, which was currently closed.

“If I leave, Tony’ll have my head. I haven’t finished my reports,” she sighed, slumping against the window pane. “Thanks though, maybe some other day?”

Even from up here, Y/N could see the sparkle in Bucky’s eyes fall a bit but he was quick to protest, “Aw come on, doll. I spent all morning getting everything ready, you can’t just sneak off with me just the once? Are you really that busy?”

Y/N was a complete stranger to that flirty smirk on James Barnes’ lips and she couldn’t help but feel her curiosity being sparked. He couldn’t be flirting with her could he? “I thought you said I could say no,” she teased and Bucky huffed playfully in response.

“I did but I meant it as in, you can say no if you don’t want to be with me. This seems like a ‘no, I don’t want to get in trouble with Iron Man’,” Bucky pointed out. “I’ll help you with your reports tomorrow if you like! But it’s far too nice of a day to be spent inside!”

He was right and Y/N knew it. Even just the moments of her hanging out of this window made her want to run out and pretend like she had no responsibilities. The air smelled of freedom, the sun felt like safety and warmth.

“Well then, Sergeant, how do you suggest I get down? If he sees me leaving, he’ll have my head! I can’t just pull the fire alarm and run away,” she laughed, thinking about how confused the Avengers would be to a nonexistent fire.

“Jump,” was all he said with a shrug, not even stopping to think about it. That smirk on his face was turning into an awfully cocky grin and Y/N couldn’t help but feel insanely attracted to it.

She raised an eyebrow at his suggestion, staring at him in disbelief, “You want me to jump out of this window?”

“It’s not that high up! You’re only on the second floor!” Bucky nodded with a laugh. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re scared. You’ve jumped out of the quinjet before miles above the ground.”

“I have a parachute when I do that!” Y/N argued, still staring at him like he had grown 7 heads. “Have you gone mad? I can’t just jump out of here! I don’t have super strength or super healing like you, Barnes, I could break something!”

“Nah, not from that height!” Bucky insisted, but Y/N wasn’t sure if he was lying or not. “Oh come on, doll. I’d catch you - don’t you know that?”

The words that came from his lips paired with that gorgeously confident smile made Y/N’s heart flutter a bit. Tingles spread from her fingertips all the way to her chest, her stomach lurching forward as she thought about hopping out.

“You promise?” She asked unevenly, glancing at the window frame surrounding her. It was definitely a big enough space for her to slide out of and there was a ledge in front of the window that she could situate herself on for a moment before she jumped…

Her cheeks flushed as she realized that she was wearing a dress with no tights or anything to cover up the underwear that would quickly be seen if Bucky was going to be preparing to catch her.

“Don’t you trust me, doll?” Bucky asked with another laugh and Y/N wished her heart would stop swooning. She nodded as she slowly climbed onto the window, her legs hanging out.

“Now, try to keep your eyes away from under my dress, you!” She scolded nervously, staring down at Bucky as he tried to find the best spot to stand.

“You want me to close my eyes?” He joked and she rolled her eyes as he laughed some more. “I promise I’ll do my best to try and not look.”

Y/N nodded and looked back at the office behind her, hoping that she hadn’t caught anyone’s attention. Her heart was pounding into her chest but she couldn’t tell if it was because she was still lightheaded from talking to Bucky or nervous about jumping out of a window. “Alright… here I come!” She screeched as she pushed herself off, wincing a little as the rough texture of the window’s ledge scratched her thigh from behind.

It wasn’t that Y/N thought it was going to be an easy drop but she hadn’t quite expected Bucky to lose his footing and fall back with her in his arms with a loud thump. Bucky’s hard body felt so surprising to her, her mind immediately filling with thoughts of what muscles he was hiding under his clothing. Dust rose from the ground as the two bodies smacked into it and the birds hiding in the tree nearby flew away, probably laughing as they watched the two humans’ bodies slumped against the ground.

Both of them were groaning for a moment, Bucky rubbing his head which had definitely been smacked into the earth. Y/N felt her cheeks burn with a blush, immediately feeling bad as she saw the pain in Bucky’s wincing expression.

“Y’alright there, doll?” Bucky managed out with a chuckle, reaching his hand up to gently brush against her cheek.

Y/N’s cheeks burned hotter, quickly nodding and wriggling off of him, offering her own hand to help him stand up. “Remind me never to jump into your arms again,” she teased, brushing some dirt that had gathered on the edges of her dress.

Bucky rolled his eyes and moved to pickup the items he was bringing along with them, “Hush you, I kept you safe didn’t I? You barely even hit the ground, you just hit me hitting the ground.”

There was an odd sort of silence between them for a moment as Bucky brushed off the dirt on his back. He looked up at her with a sort of sheepish grin, “So. Pink huh?”

Y/N looked at him with confusion until her eyes went wide as Bucky started to laugh once more, “You said you wouldn’t look!” She screeched, slapping his arm. He was trying to stifle his laughter while she smiled even though she felt like ripping his head off.

“I said I’d try! It’s hard to avoid looking when I was trying to make sure I didn’t miss you!” Bucky grinned but held up his hands in defence, “I’m sorry, doll, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

Y/N wished she could stammer out a topic change but the words were drying up her throat and her chest tightened in embarrassment. She quickly nodded towards the items he had brought, “S-So where are we going?”

Bucky smiled and pointed at the car stationed nearby, “It’s a secret. Come on, we gotta hurry before Sam realizes I stole the majority of the food in the fridge.” The two of them giggled their way into the car, the engine roaring into life and kicking dust behind them as they disappeared into the horizon.

Y/N couldn’t help but open the passenger window, leaning her arms against the door so she could feel the warm breeze on her face. Her hair was going to be blown in every direction possible but she couldn’t care less. The air felt so nice on her skin, the sun kissing warmth on each inch of skin it danced on. She was so entranced by the feeling, she wasn’t even sure how long they were driving for.

“What’re we doing out here, Bucks?” Y/N finally asked as the city buildings disappeared and green fields quickly replaced them. Her smile grew as she noted the vibrant colours of wildflowers scattered around them, beaming even more as the car turned into a dirt road and came to a stop.

“I just thought we could have lunch with some peace and quiet, and maybe a bit of a view. Just stay put for a moment okay?” Bucky grinned and waited for Y/N to give him a suspicious but agreeing nod. He hopped out of the car and grabbed the basket from the back seat, rushing off into the fields. Y/N’s eyes watched him until he disappeared into the tall grass. She waited for a moment, starting to feel a little nervous when he didn’t come back immediately. This had to be some sort of a prank right? Bucky wouldn’t really just leave her in a car in the middle of nowhere, right?

The girl was filled with relief when Bucky’s figure came jogging back, a bright smile still on his face. Y/N moved to open the door but Bucky held his hands up to stop her, shaking his head quickly, “My mama raised a gentleman,” he insisted after he opened the door and held a hand out to help her out of the car.

Y/N looked up at those weirdly excited eyes and couldn’t help but laugh. Bucky’s attitude was that of a small kid, pulling their friends to come see the frog they found, or a dog who was eagerly awaiting to play catch at the park. This side of Bucky was rarely ever seen… in fact, Y/N wondered if this was the first time she’d seen it at all. Bucky’s fingers intertwined with hers as he closed the car door and locked the vehicle behind them.

“Come on then. Pretty girl like you in that pretty little dress deserves to have a nice lunch date,” Bucky led her along the grass and Y/N had to wonder if he knew that every word that was leaving his lips was making her cheeks feel hot. She was starting to wonder if he could tell how nervous he made her, how shy and vulnerable she felt around him. Her heart was racing and her temperature was rising and it had absolutely nothing to do with the warm breeze floating around them.

Bucky helped push some of the tall grass away from Y/N’s dress as they wandered around for a few minutes, even though Y/N insisted that grass wasn’t going to hurt the fabric in any way. As he led her, a few large trees finally came into view. Her eyes widened in surprise to find a typical red and white picnic blanket spread out on the flat earth beside one of the largest trees, hiding in the shade that pushed and pulled with the air. On the blanket was an assortment of foods, including a platter of sandwiches, some chicken wings, a large bowl of salad, and containers filled with gorgeous looking pieces of fruit.

“Bucky… what the hell is this?” Y/N gaped as she stared at it, Bucky grinning as the two of them came to a halt in front of the blanket. “Did… Did you plan all of this?”

“Of course,” Bucky’s eyes were already fixated on her when she looked up at him, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“You… You did this for me?” Y/N asked again, her chest tightening slightly. Had he somehow taken a peak into her daydreams? Had he heard her talk about how much she loved to just sit in the sunlight or get away from all the noise of the city?

Bucky’s cheeks went rosy as Y/N questioned him, his eyes quickly falling down to the picnic blanket. “Who else would I have done it for?” He asked softly and Y/N’s heart threatened to fall right out of her chest. There was a pause and Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. She could think of a number of girls that would give anything for Bucky Barnes to do this for them but she couldn’t bring herself to mention them. Bucky had done all this for her and right now, she didn’t want to think of any other girl he would’ve done it for.

Bucky cleared his throat quickly and gestured for her to sit down, moving some of the containers around to create some space on the blanket. “I wasn’t sure what kind of food you’d want. I know you really like pho but it was so warm out and I wasn’t sure it would be good by now, and I thought maybe burgers would get cold by the time we got out here and-” Bucky was rambling and Y/N’s lips curled into a smile as she heard it. Bucky Barnes only rambled sometimes. He was such a quiet man nowadays, hearing him ramble was odd. But it only ever happened when he was nervous. How could he possibly be nervous around her, Y/N wondered.

“They look great,” Y/N insisted, interrupting him with a touch to his arm. “Actually, they look amazing. I’m starved!”

Bucky grinned and quickly pushed backed the saran wrap that was protecting the sandwiches, offering her one. “That Parker kid, he told me Delmar’s Deli and Grill has the best sandwiches ever so…” Bucky picked one up for himself before pushing the saran wrap back onto the plate and turning to her.

“So if they’re terrible, we can blame him,” Y/N finished with a giggle. She sat crossed legged in front of Bucky, facing him with a large smile on her face. The two of them sank their teeth into the sandwiches, groaning with delight as the flavours touched their tongues. “Fuck this is amazing,” Y/N whined, barely swallowing the first piece before eagerly taking another. “Sex is good but this sandwich is better,” she decided out loud, making Bucky choke a little on his bite.

“S-Sorry?” Bucky blinked, the two of them sharing an awkward gaze together before bursting into laughter. “What kind- Who says that about a sandwich?”

“I’m sorry, are you not tasting what I’m tasting? It’s incredible!” Y/N insisted, her face going warm with embarrassment and laughter. “Everyone always talks about their last meal on earth, not their last sexual encounter on earth. There’s a reason. Because food is better.”

Bucky thought about it for a moment and then nodded in agreement, “Alright. Fair I guess.” He chuckled to himself and handed her some water to down the bites with. It didn’t take long for Y/N and Bucky to wolf down the majority of the food, Y/N topping off their meal by helping herself to the strawberries that were in a nearby container. Bucky slumped against the tree stump, closing his eyes as he listened to the sounds of the tree swaying to the wind.

“Open,” Y/N whispered and Bucky peek an eye over at her, raising an eyebrow as he felt her touch a strawberry to his lips. “Come on, before I eat all of them,” she pushed with a smile. Bucky rolled his eyes as he playfully glared at her but happily accepted the sweet fruit, going back to closing his eyes.

Y/N watched him for a moment, finding herself unable to tear her eyes away from him. He seemed so much calmer today, so much more relaxed. Over the past few weeks of getting to know him, Bucky Barnes was no longer just the pair of scared eyes that locked onto her while disassociating, he was no longer just the hollowed shape of a man who couldn’t sleep unless it was to the sound of old Scooby Doo cartoons. Bucky Barnes was now a man who held her whole heart in his hands and Y/N wasn’t even sure if he knew that. She stared at him for a while longer before the sounds of birds chirping nearby drew her attention. Her eyes scanned the fields in front of them, sighing contently as she tried to take a photo of the scene to keep forever.

She lifted her phone up, taking a photo of the blue sky, the one or two white cotton candy clouds, the green grass contrasting the red and white picnic blanket. She wanted to keep this memory forever. She smiled proudly as she looked at the multitude of photos she could now keep, resting herself against the tree trunk next to Bucky as she picked out her favourite pictures.

As if coming from the very depths of her memory, a line of poetry flickered into her brain.

There is sweet music here that softer falls …. Y/N blinked as she tried to repeat it over and over again, eyebrows furrowing as she found herself unable to recall the second line.

Phone in hand, Y/N’s fingers tapped along the screen the few words she could remember, searching for this melodic rhythm she had in her head.

“Whatcha doing there, doll?” Bucky asked softly, and his voice became the much sweeter melody in her head. Y/N looked over to find him looking at her quizzically, obviously amused by the little frustration in her expression.

“I’m looking for a poem,” Y/N admitted as she went back to searching, face feeling warm again. Was it embarrassing to be thinking about poetry right now? Was Bucky one of those guys who thought poetry was a waste of time? Stupid fantasies that never any sense?

“Will you read it for me?” Bucky sat up a little straighter, his eyes showing that same little kid excitement that Y/N had seen in him earlier. She smiled at him and nodded quickly, gasping in delight as she found the poems she was looking for.

“There is sweet music here that softer falls-” Y/N began softly.

“Wait!” Bucky yelped, making Y/N jump a little. He shifted over in where he was sitting, lying down so that his head was now in Y/N’s lap, smiling and batting his eyelashes up at her with his oh-so-innocent look. “Alright, now you can start.” He nodded, closing his eyes again and making Y/N laugh.

“God you’re impossible,” Y/N mumbled but bit her lip a little as she let her eyes watch him just for another moment. Her fingers clenched around her phone a little tighter, her other hand soon moving to play with the ends of Bucky’s long smooth locks.

“There is sweet music here that softer falls Than petals from blown roses on the grass,”

Y/N paused as a slightly more powerful breeze flew by, imagining herself flying with the air that touched her skin. She shifted her weight into the tree trunk once more, her dress strap falling slightly as the fabric loosened against her skin. Before she could move to pull it up, Bucky’s warm hand did it for her, his eyes only barely open. His fingertips left tingles along her skin as he gently flattened the strap, leaving his touch there just for a moment before pulling away again and closing his eyes once more.

Y/N could still feel the ghost of his fingers, her skin yearning to be touched by him again because he just made her feel so safe, so warm, even though she couldn’t really say she was cold in the first place. Her eyes hastily skimmed her phone again, not wanting him to realize she was fixating on him again.

“Or night-dews on still waters between walls Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass; Music that gentlier on the spirit lies,”

The words hung in the space between the two bodies as if the air was holding them near. Each syllable that left Y/N’s lips felt soft and soothing and light, like the breeze that was drifting past, but also so grounding and present. As Y/N scrolled through Lord Alfred Tennyson’s Choric Song, her fingers plaited strands of Bucky’s hair into a small braid. She knew he wasn’t sleeping because his eyes kept flickering over to her and Y/N could swear he was watching her, examining her like she had be examining him moments earlier. She tried to keep her gaze away from his, not wanting to prove herself wrong that Bucky was looking at her because if he was in fact looking at her, she didn’t want him to look away.

“Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes; Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies.”

Soon his eyes were closing slower and staying closed for longer but still Y/N knew he wasn’t sleeping because Bucky always twitched when he was falling asleep. Her fingers twisted and turned against his hair, soon adding soft coloured wildflowers into the braid. She couldn’t help but smile at how soft he looked here, how calm, how completely untortured.

“Here are cool mosses deep, And thro' the moss the ivies creep, And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep”

Y/N wondered how time could be so generous in allowing her this time. The poem wasn’t even that long and yet, by the time Y/N got to the end, she felt like a whole eternity had passed them. She wondered if time would always be this kind, if maybe every moment spent alone with Bucky could be like this. Maybe the future could be brighter, softer, and more at peace, just like this.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Another huge thanks to everyone who’s been following along with the series :D Destiny and I really love hearing from you all so please let us know how you like it!

MASTERLIST // Destiny’s Blog! <3

[someonestole15]

Underground

4 pages, Zephyr.

Bright blue sky, faint wind blowing through the canyons with a whispering as it passes through the slits in the rocks. Rocks covered in sand and dead trees, my jacket bares a tan coloring to blend in with it.

Small squad, Mira, Valkyrie and Nine, along with myself, keep the rear and take in the sights as the scanners remain clear. Lightweight weaponry, the cape over my hood and shoulders feels light but sturdy enough to shrug off a bullet or two, Nine’s additional pouches have made given him a secondary role as the support, carrying a few bottles of restoring mist and a stack of magazines fit for the weapons we carry.

Same rifle, different set ups, Valkyrie and Mira have theirs focused on longer range combat with an extended barrel and mine is optimized for close to medium engagements with a flashlight mounted to the side rail and a red dot sight on the top. Rounding up, the Phoenix in my holster, we reached the original camp/mining site.

“Hold.”

The camp was left barren, only frames of what used to be the buildings were standing, the yellow paint on them faded by wind and sand.

“Looks clear, keep an eye out.” Mira said as she braced the rifle against her shoulder and headed further into the area with Valkyrie and Nine in tow.

Sticking near the entrance, the whistling winds and clouds of dust forming from it, I kept my scanners active and on the walls the faint interference was not making it any easier with the high metal content in the sand around us, the blue markers for friendlies flashed in and out at random.

Glint in one of the caves nearby, I took a knee and aimed my rifle towards it, only for the glint to vanish as soon as my sights were on it. Weird but not worth wasting a bullet on it. Back on my feet, I heard the call to regroup at the central building.

“As they said, there’s nothing here. Good.”

“Seems like they took everything worthwhile before leaving, most of the equipment is scrap.”

“Scrap, but usable as spares, have a look around and see if you can scavenge anything from the machinery.”

“Alright.”

“Valkyrie, the gatehouse near the entrance of the compound, see if they left anything behind.”

“Understood.”

“I’ll get in touch with Kira, the faster we get set up, the better. Go on.”

As I turned away, Valkyrie grabbed my hand.

“Don’t get lost, Nine and I would hate to see you go.”

“I’ll stay in range this time, don’t worry.” One hand on her shoulder, I tapped lightly. “No losses today.”

“Roger that.” She smiled as she took a step back and started heading towards the gatehouse. Breathe, focus, recalibrate the sensors and get to work. Check the equipment, full magazine and a round in the chamber, good to go, I headed back to the building near the entrance that was seemingly used as a scrapheap after the evacuation.

Frame of a building, most of what was left, a pile of scrap in the middle of the floor and two larger containers behind it, the markings made it clear they were Corporation, age hard to judge from the marking numbers but they were definitely old.

The pile of scrap was mostly just bits of ruined garbage, the containers yielded more usable gear, although most of it was in a state of disrepair. Receivers from ruined rifles and magazines with rusted springs, hopefully Valkyrie and Nine had returned by now, getting some walls up would help in making this place feel like home.

Container closed, I felt a gaze burning into my hood but once I laid my hands on the rifle, it disappeared. Keep it close, fool me twice, shame on me, I took a step forward. The burning, returned.

Turn to it, nothing but something around my leg pulled me down to the ground. Pulling with force greater than my own, the sand wasn’t helping with my struggle for grip as the trails from my fingers were drawn to the sand.

Tighten the grip around the rifle and force myself over, attempting to take aim, no chance of hitting such a small target while getting dragged along, the destination worried me more.

A half open hatch, grated, the darkness not very inviting, but that’s where I was going and fast. Last ditch effort to take hold of the hatch itself, the rusted metal cracked like glass under my weight and the force pulling me down, back in the depths, in the darkness.

Rather not be, a blink of my eye shined forward to something shimmering from it. Attempting to touch it made it retreat away from my hand as I got closer. Small flame on my palm, radio out, I routed more power to the flame and watched it quiver in the air flowing within the cavern.

Easier to keep up than the light in my eye, the moisture in the air was heavy, my breathing formed fog as I looked around. The tunnel ran two ways, a thin layer of water beneath my boots echoed along the tunnel as I looked up and thought about climbing back out the way I had fallen, but the hatch hadn’t held my body and the surrounding metal didn’t seem any sturdier.

Only way is forward, I kept the fire close to me and started heading into the darkness. One finger on the trigger, hard to focus with the flickering and the mist blocking out my view. A split into four, I lowered my hand and listened, nothing, followed by a rush of sounds coming from all directions.

Can’t keep an eye on four directions at once, a sharp impact to the side of my head was the last thing I noticed before my systems blacked out.

Hard to breathe, exhaling formed trails of bubbles from my mouth as I looked above and saw several wrecked gunships slowly descending towards me. Burnt my wings, missing engines, holes in the hull and damage to the control surfaces, I leaned my head back and drew in the water around me.

Filtered out, breathing stabilized and heartbeat coming back around, a jolt of electricity through my spine brought me back to reality.

Smell the ashes, or not, it’s more a metallic scent, the air feels thinner, I’m clearly not the in same tunnel as I was before. Sounds of dripping water and a faint humming, hard to see into the dark. Weapons taken, steady pain beating in my head as I pulled myself up and stabilized myself with one hand on the wall. The stone felt cold, I scraped my fingers along it and formed a small flame in between my fingers.

Flicker like a candle, the orange light made it easier to see but I was still in the dark, hardly weaponized with the blade inside my arm, there was one door out of the room.

Whoever had knocked me out had likely used this place for storage, there were numerous crates and sacks of produce stored within, none of it familiar to my scanners. Highly nutritious from what I could gather, I tried the door. Locked, scans showing some kind of lifeform outside, hard to say exactly what it was, the nervous system resembled human but the rest of it…

Knock on the door, see if they answer. Nothing, but the creature did react to my knocking, speaking out for someone else to come down.

Sit down on one of the crates and wait, guessing they want to talk or else they would have just killed me earlier, and even if I just started a head-on assault, getting out alone would be difficult.

They are my one way out, little time passed before the door opened up with a snake like creature brandishing a spear with high voltage running through it,

Easier to describe as Lamia, the torso resembled human but below it, a long scaled tail trailed along the floor.

Long split tongue whipping itself in and out of the creature’s mouth, its eyes locked onto my hands as I kept them on my lap and remained calm. No mention of anything like this in the Empire files, I wonder how many had seen them with their own eyes. Another creature pushed itself past the first one and placed its hand on the spear, lowering it.

“So… why are you here?”

“Wondering the same, what exactly are you?”

“Your questions will be answered later, answer mine or you’ll remain here.”

Short explanation of what had happened, how the situation had led me to this planet and what the remaining squad above planned.

“They are not after the minerals?”

“No, last I’ve heard the place was mined dry.”

“There’s plenty of it left, but if the ones settling above are not after it, I believe we can come to an arrangement. Allow me to officially welcome you to our kingdom, outsider.” The snake extended his hand out for me to shake. Called many things, outsider isn’t the worst of them, I took the hand and shook it.

“Specter, pleasure.”

“Krotz, king of the underground caverns of Zephyr. Pleasure is all mine.”

Even with the limited knowledge on the lamia, they seemed calm with showing me around their caverns, many of them spreading kilometers across the mined areas, much of the equipment had been left behind and the tales told of fearsome reptile creatures driving off the miners, the stories were buried as madness or simply paranoia of spending months in the mines. The Corporation had gotten their fill of Palladium and new sites had been found, abandoning this one seemed more worthwhile.

Understandable, who would want to work in a mine cursed by snake like creatures going around with weapons such as these?

Back to the point, the tour ended with Krotz showing me a way back to the surface, offering to come along to meet with the rest of the squad who had landed with me, to “mend the relationship” as he put it.

Back to the surface, the grey clouds had moved away, replaced by the sun heating up the surface. Krotz had replaced his yellow safety jacket with a brown bomber jacket, likely scavenged from the previous crew, along with a hood over his head. My gear had been returned to me before leaving, would be a shame to leave the Phoenix behind after it has been repaired.

“Warm, yes…”

“So how close to snakes are you?”

“We are cold blooded as our smaller squadmates, although this body has taken many a centuries to reach a state like this.”

“Good to know. Valkyrie, can you hear me?”

“Oh good, you’re still alive, got me worried there. Where are you?”

“A few clicks from the compound. Got a new friend who wishes to meet Mira and Kira.”

“Understood, The Mule is already here, keep your transponder active, we’ll come get you.”

“Sitting tight, Specter out.” End call, I took a seat on one of the rocks near the entrance to the caverns.

“That is your friend?”

“Yeah, that is close enough to reality.”

“How is she?” Krotz asked as he sat opposite me, curling his tail around the stone.

“Headstrong, but accurate.” Not much to say, actions speak louder than words but finding ones to describe Valkyrie have remained the same.

“Chosen words for someone you care about.”

“I would be dead several times over without her.”

Silence fell as the faint wind picked up, the breeze felt uplifting on my jacket after the few hours underground, I heard the gunship engines roaring in the distance as Krotz raised his head and placed one hand to protect his view from the sunlight.

Hold onto hope, I am homeward bound.

  So a longer set of pages, I plan on ending the AX15 and Valkyrie storyline for a while since they will be laying low on Zephyr and not much of it would be interesting. My plans, however, involve going out of my comfort zone for the next pages I will write afterwards, but that is on the way.

Thanks for reading. Harry

[amayawolfe]

HxH OC Fumiko Nakamura Story ~ Ch. 4 - The Rest of the Family

My Stories Masterlist

Word Count: 1315

Warnings: mild child abuse and violence, mental/emotional struggle, blood, mildly graphic/disturbing illustration, mental disorder

   Your father stepped aside so that you and your sisters could come into the house. Out of pure habit the three of you formed a line and moved forward. Filing into the house first was Satomi, Rin was second, and you were dead last. It was a method used for protecting Rin. If your father were to strike out while one was walking by, it was usually the person first or last in line that received the blow. In this case, it was the person last in line, you.

   You felt a hard smack against the back of your head as you started to walk past your father. It most definitely wasn't the hardest blow you've ever received, though it was was hard enough to make you stumble forward and your eyes water from the sting of contact.

   "You're filthy," your father growled, "go wash up before you go near that table."

   "Yes, sir," you muttered. The reek of alcohol saturating the air surrounding him stung your nose almost as badly as the blow to the head.

   Kimichi was at the stove stirring a large stew pot, Asuri was getting bowls and silverware from their respective places, both glanced at you and smirked as you headed to the bathroom. Satomi and Rin would wash at the kitchen sink, you where always told to go use the bathroom sink since you were "more filthy than the others".

   On your way to the bathroom you passed by your mother. She didn't even look up at you, she stayed seated at the table and kept her eyes on some papers in her hand. The cigarette in her other hand slowly releasing an acrid smoke that lazily drifted towards the ceiling. She was never of any help to you, sometimes she would even add fuel to the fire of the situation and would simply watch you burn.

   You walked through the kitchen and down a narrow hallway that lead to the bedrooms and bathroom. Your mother and father had their own bathroom connected to their bedroom, you and your sisters had to share a single tiny bathroom. One bathroom was simply not enough for five girls and was often the source of many a heated and boisterous arguments, especially in the morning.

   You had learned how to avoid some of these issues by simply going out to the forest near the house when natured called. You would even bathe in the river during the warmer months. The peace and solitude was always soothing. And it was always fun when Satomi and Rin joined you. Holding contests on who could hold their breath underwater was your favorite. Mostly because you always won.

   However, there was no need to go out to the river tonight, you only needed to wash up enough for dinner. So, in other words, your face, arms, and hands. You would take a pot of warm water and a washcloth up to your attic room and finish washing up after dinner.

   Having let the water run for a little bit to warm up, you wet your hands and grabbed a bar of soap to work up a good lather. You scrubbed the dirt of your hands and arms first. The water turned brown as it ran off down the drain and your skin began to lighten as the caked dirt was removed. You took a moment to make sure to get the dirt from under your nails as best as you could. Asuri was always one to point out anything you missed.

   Bringing your face down to the basin you splashed water on it then scrubbed some soap lather across it, making sure to get all the way back to your ears and partially down your neck.

   At this rate I may just as well take a sink bath... You thought bitterly to yourself. On the outside, you appeared calm. The only giveaway of your anger was your clenched jaw causing the jaw muscles to bulge out a little. The back of your head no longer stung, but you could still feel heat where your father made contact, and it throbbed a little.

   You splashed water on your face to wash away the soap. After a few splashes you wiped your face off with your hands, turned off the water, straightened up and reached for a towel. As you did so you looked at yourself in the mirror ...and froze...

   Blood. Lots of blood.

   There was blood all over your face. It looked like you had actually used blood to wash your face instead of water. It ran down your neck and was starting to soak into your shirt collar, staining it darkly. You looked down in horror and saw there was thick coat of blood all over your hands as well. They began to shake and your heart began to race.

   Looking back up into the mirror you saw that your face was now smiling back at you. A wide, toothy grin that sent shivers down your spine and caught your breath in your throat. But it was your eyes that frightened you the most. Eyes and pupils wide, they gleamed with a insane, joyous madness.

   You slammed your eyes shut and gripped the edges of the sink tightly. Your whole body now trembling, your heart was ramming against your ribs, you drew in heavy, ragged breaths as you fought to keep yourself under control.

   "No, no, no, no, go away, go away," you silently pleaded out loud, "It wasn't that bad, please, just go away."

   You could feel something stir in the darkness behind your closed eyes. It fell cold, ruthless, but most of all, it felt hungry. Something whispered in your head, echoing through the darkness, but it was so soft it was inaudible.  

   "NO!" you whispered loudly, "No, go away!"

   {Ssssaaadddaaasssshhhiii},  it sounded like dead leaves rustling and dried snake skins rubbing together. Soft, raspy, deadly... {...Kill... End him...}

   "NO! GO AWAY!" you shouted, you could feel hot tears streaming down your bloody face.

   A pounding on the bathroom door made you jump and cry out.

   "Sadashi?!" It was Kimichi, "Stop messing around in there and finish up! Dinner is ready."

   You looked back at the mirror and saw your wet, terrified face. You were back to normal. There was no blood, no smile, no insane look in your eyes, just terror and confusion. Another bang on the door made you jump again.

   "Sadashi, did you here me!?"

   "Uh, ye- yeah. Sorry, I'll be out in a minute. Just dealing with.. some stubborn dirt."

   You heard a "hmf!" as Kimichi turned and walked away from the door and down the hall. Releasing a shaky sigh, you heavily sat down on the toilet and rubbed your face. It had been a while since the last episode like this happened, a few weeks at the very least.

   I'll need to go to the forest for a hunt soon. You took in a slow, shaky breath in and slowly released it.

   Hunting and killing game seemed to satiate this weird need for blood and violence, temporarily silencing the voice you heard in your head and the images that came with it. No one knew about the mental battle you were going through, how could they? You fully believed your family would think you were lying or trying to play a joke, and it would most likely scare Rin, possibly Satomi as well. It was a dark secret you kept locked up inside.

   Okay, hopefully dinner will go quietly and I can just get to my room before anything happens. That's not to much to ask for, right?

   Sadly, fate deemed that it was.

Next Chapter: Ch. 5 - Unjustified Punishment

[aqvarius]

HLITF: This is not the story of your first night: Soma - otona love - chapter 4 summary/translation

anyway i guess you didn’t have to wait that long for chapter 4 but only because i couldn’t wait and had to keep reading. you can find the previous chapter here, or check my new translations page to read from the beginning. my translations masterpost is not rebloggable or mobile-friendly yet but i will update when i make one! otherwise, you can always just search the tag “summary” or “translation” on my blog or follow the links in my previous chapter posts to find the previous posts. 

previously, soma had just said that what he was refraining [re: verbal attacking] from was... 

naturally, he finishes his sentence outrageously:

soma: “i’m only refraining ..... in bed”

(!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) <-- btw, the mc reacts the same way

he whispers this to you so closely that his lips are basically touching your ears again. 

soma: “are you displeased?”

keep reading for irritated momose, soma being the best boyfriend ever, and him asking something of you that is so predictable of him...

side note: i know you are probably all sick of me gloating about how well i understand soma that i can predict his behaviour/know what to expect but i’m just so pleased to see all this teasing and manipulation in canon. anyway how dare he ask that with such a sweet smile on his face. he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

soma: “or is it better to refrain in the workplace after all?”

you say that you’d prefer that he doesn’t [use verbal attacks] in the workplace as well, but you’ll leave that up to his judgement. deliberately letting his breath fall on your ears, soma drew back with an innocent face. you lament that you really can’t win against soma. 

“by the way, shouldn’t you get going soon?” soma asks.

soma: “tsugaru-san’s loyal dog-kun is about to bare his fangs” (lmaooooo)

you panic that if you wait around any longer, you’ll get bitten. so you “ittekimasu” and soma replies “itterasshai” and you run off after momose. 

this is a new background!! 

you apologise for the wait and momose flashes you one of these:

momose hops into the waiting car and glares silently at you. you can’t see his fangs but it really seems like he’s gonna bite you! 

momose throws the case documents from tsugaru at you and tells you to hammer it into your head before you arrive at the site. you try to ask “site-?” but momose just tells you to read it to understand and then he steps on the accelerator. meanwhile i’m here lamenting the fact that we don’t have a momose driving sprite. i guess they are only reserved for real love interests ;~~;

you exclaim “isn’t it dangerous to start [the car] like that?” and momose says that they are late because of you. you apologise but plead with him to drive safely lmaooo this is so on brand. 

while in the car, you start reading the case files on the target. there’s a group that has been showing suspicious movement right as a summit in tokyo is approaching and one of the members is the target this time. you’re going to the apartment that’s supposed to be their hangout. 

momose doesn’t respond but no response means “yes”... 

you note that there are more than 10 [more than a dozen] targets coming in and out and then momose randomly says “today is friday”. it takes a moment but you suddenly see something in the wording of the case document. turns out that every friday there’s a chance of contact with the terrorist mastermind.

“in other words, today,” says momose. 

“we’ve got to hurry!” you exclaim and momose gives you that silent look again lol. you apologise, saying “who’s the one who’s been saying that...” since you were the one who kept him waiting.  

“but those eyes... they’re too scary...!”

in order to escape from his accusatory glare, you turn your eyes back to the case material. 

“momose-san doesn’t say a lot, so the pressure of his gaze is intense”

“in other words... a shisenzeme [”glare attack”] type?” 

you inadvertently returned your gaze [at momose] that had turned away. he asks “what” and you’re like “nothing!!” you scold yourself a little because you have a job to do today and you need to concentrate on your work. 

i’m just adding these backgrounds here bc i’ve never seen some of them before lol.

it’s late and you couldn’t get any results from today’s work so you return to headquarters at night. you leave the division at 9pm after doing paperwork. 

“i promised i would go to soma-san’s house tonight...!” (😏😏😏)

i’m gleeful about what’s to come but also worried bc it takes me like 5 mins per slide to translate all the euphemistic sex scenes. you send him a text saying “i’m leaving [work] now!” and rush out and - 

your phone chimes with a reply:

“thanks for your hard work*. i’m making paella and waiting for you.”

*otsukaresama = good job/thanks for your hard work/you’ve worked hard

i hope you’ve all realised by now that soma is the greatest boyfriend of all time i love him so much 🥰🥰🥰

clearly hlitf mc thinks the same thing:

“paella! i’m so happy!!”

soma’s immediate reply makes you smile. (same girl, same ;~~;) since soma’s paella is full of seafood, you decide to buy some delicious white wine. 

“you’re arrived so late,” soma says when you arrive at his. he opens the door, looking a little displeased. you apologise and say you bought wine. 

soma: “taking such a detour...”

you show him the wine but his expression doesn’t change. you wonder if he’s angry... you were working late and you wish you had come straight to his. he asks you if it’s a white [wine] from spain, and you say you think it would compliment his paella. he says it should. 

soma: “a wonderful selection” 

i’m so happy to be praised by him lol. you’re like “yokatta...!” (i’m glad). soma says it was worth the wait. it’s a little disagreeable when you arrived (not really sure if i translated this bit correctly) but he’s not criticising/reproaching you. 

“let’s go eat,” soma says, and you say yes!!

“mm~ soma-san’s paella is the most delicious after all”

soma: “i’m honoured to receive your compliment”

he jokingly bows his head, and you enjoy a late dinner together. he says that the wine you chose is also delicious. you agree, but you apologise for keeping him waiting. he asks you if things went well [at work] and you’re like “um...” and then he apologises for asking about things related to another team’s investigation. 

soma: “excuse me. i shouldn’t say anything about the contents of another team’s investigation.”

you think that you can’t talk about it even to soma, even though you got no results today. 

“but [seeing you] in that state...”

“no, it’s nothing.”

you think that just now, he definitely saw through you [that you got no results]. “is that so...” you say, and soma just continues to eat while smiling as if nothing happened. you’re glad he left it there today. usually he’ll push you a little more or tease you. soma-san is good at listening to team tsugaru’s movements/happenings.

soma: “if you [eat] too slowly, it’ll be too late to take a bath”

i had to include a screenshot here bc it’s my policy whenever soma talks about baths. i bet he’s gonna ask to go in together too lmao. 

you realise that’s why he didn’t ask you about this and that. you apologise that things are rushed just because you were late. 

soma: “ahh, sorry... i don’t mean to blame you”

you say that ah no, you don’t feel like he was blaming/criticising you! and he says “that’s good then”. 

soma: “it’s getting late, so it’ll be quicker if we go in together”

I KNEW IT I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO DO THIS!!!!! i’m ALSKJFSLDSDS?!!!!J LKSJFLDK!??!???! fLSKDJLKJF!!!!! 

“soma-san grins flirtily while swirling his glass of white wine”

soma: “i got new bath salts, shall we enjoy it together?”

YESYE SLYEEYESYEYYEYESY

“could it be... i was skillfully manipulated!?”**

**it says “guided”, basically meaning he like led her into this. remember when i said mc’s entire relationship with soma was one big trap? this is what i mean lol!!

--

anyway, that’s the end of chapter 4! i can’t believe how quickly it went by (maybe my language skills are getting just a little better lol... or maybe i just don’t have to spend ages trying to figure out what parts of whose body are being touched in what manner in these everyday scenes lmao). i can’t BELIEVE WE GET SOMA WANTING TO BATHE TOGETHER AGAIN. i mean i can believe he because he wants to do it constantly but i’m like giddy with excitement seeing it again lmao. i love seeing overly legalistic hlitf mc as well (the fact that she was late but still nagged momose to not start the car so abruptly... sis........) and also how cute that soma made paella and waited for her a;lsjfdlsk supportive boyfriends are the best. 

i hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you’re as excited as i am for the next chapter and hopefully the inevitable bathing together scene...   

i’m sure i could probably draw more traffic by updating that scandalous kazuomi story but i am selfish and i want to finish this story first bc i just can’t get enough of soma.

i’ve also set up a ko-fi page here and would be incredibly grateful if you would like to support me for translations and being able to purchase more routes to recap in english!

[tara-the-quiet-bookworm-2016]

Submit To Me (Chapter Four)

Authors Note- Aaaand here is where things will finally, finally begin to pick up. This will take place a few months after the previous incident. And where Silas will finally reveal part of his true self. Safe to say that poor Gavin will find that things aren’t what they seem. This chapter will include things such as Swearing, non-con kissing, choking, and Silas just being a really terrifying person in general. Again, sorry this isn’t the best Reed900 fanfic you’ve ever read. It’s my first time writing for this pairing. That being said I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 4: Rage and Confusion

“How fucking dare you?!” Gavin roared, followed by the sound of his chair clattering to the ground. While Silas stood impassively before the enraged detective. 

“I only did what was expected of me.” Silas said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.

“Expected of you?” Gavin looked at incredulous, hands fisted at his sides, resisting the urge to wipe that smug look off the androids face, though he knew it would do no good, the fucking thing couldn’t feel pain.

 Silas sighed, annoyance tinting his voice. “Should I have lied to the Captain? Lied about your...” Silas trailed off, thinking of the right word. 

It had been three months since their previous incident with the deviant android. And Gavin had made a full recovery with a few new scars to add to his collection of scars adorning his body. Though that was the only thing different about him, since then things hadn’t changed, though Silas didn’t think anything would have, but since then Gavin’s attitude towards him had worsened. And if Silas had to guess it might have started when Silas mentioned his careless mistake to the Captain  back when they were investigating those murders involving an deviant android. Obviously Reed wasn’t too pleased with having his fuck up common knowledge to the rest of the precinct.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, remembering the look of humiliation of the man’s face as Fowler ripped him a new one. Silas remembered the way Gavin’s cheeks flushed, shame gripping the man. It suited him, almost as much as anger it. 

“Hey, asshole I’m talking to you!” Gavin snarled, jerking Silas from his thoughts. His face mere inches from his, taking the android by surprise. 

“I’m sorry.” Silas said. 

“Yeah you should be-”

“I’m sorry that me being truthful in my report hurt you feelings Gavin.” Silas said, the fake politeness gone from his voice. Any other day Silas would have revelled in his anger, found it...

Shaking his head Silas brought himself back to the present. Gavin’s eyes wide in barely contained rage as he took step towards Silas. His hands gripping the lapels of Silas’ jacket, face inches from his. 

“You think I care about that?” Gavin hissed, teeth clenched. 

“Of course you do, though let’s be honest you’re more upset that it was me, an android that called you out on your incompetence.” Silas said.

Silence fell over the two, and Silas was more than glad it was just the two of them, as Gavin pulled back his fist and struck him in the jaw, making him stagger. 

“I hit the nail on the head, haven’t I?” Silas asked, rubbing at his jaw, a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Gavin couldn’t put his finger on it as he watched as Silas picked himself up, but if he had to guess he would have to say that Silas was enjoying every minute of this little argument. 

“You’re job is to obey humans.” Gavin growled slinking towards Silas, looking up at the android, staring at that impassive face, to those cool grey eyes.  “Not to go behind their back like that, not to rat them out to their bosses. You know what you just did?”

“Gee, I couldn’t have added another black mark to you steady growing disciplinary file, could I?” Silas asked, taking Gavin aback at the sarcasm in Silas’ voice. Silas was nothing like Connor, nothing like the friendly, cheerful android that was eager to help. 

This one was quiet, features sharper than Connor’s, where as Connor had warm, friendly brown eyes, Silas had those cold grey eyes that seemed to bore into Gavin’s soul, making his skin crawl, there was something behind those eyes. Something about the way Silas looked caused the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Cold eyes, calculating eyes. Almost as unnerving as the way he smirked, or smiled at Gavin, like the fucking thing was planning something. 

Or like Gavin was the butt of some joke that only Silas knew. Either way it bugged the shit out of him, it freaked him out, and to make matters worst was that he was stuck with the damn thing. 

“You’re a fucking android, a plastic prick who should do what humans say.” Gavin hissed, gripping the handle of his gun, eyes glued on the android. That same shit-eating grin on his face. “You had no right ratting me out like that...”

“Your mistake caused us to lose our suspect.” Silas said, moving closer to him, hands still clasped behind his back.

Guilt stabbed at him. All anger seeming to melt away for a moment. “L-like you did any better.” He retorted. 

“Kind of hard to do when your partner refuses to let you help. And basically prevents you from going to the crime scene by leaving you in the dust.” Silas snapped.

Eyes wide, Gavin watched as Silas moved closer and closer. Something was definitely wrong with this android, most wouldn’t have argued so much, or at all. Most wouldn’t have said all he had, and yet...

“Are you deviant?” Gavin asked after a while, watching as Silas drew closer and closer.

Those words stopped Silas in his tracks, shock etched on his face. Gavin smirked it was nice to seem something on the assholes face aside from the usual impassiveness he always wore next to the usual smugness he wore when talking to him. Before Gavin could dwell on the thought for much longer the look was gone.

“Perhaps...” Silas murmured, looked down at Gavin. “Question is,” he asked moving towards the Detective again. “What would you do if I was?”

So that would explain everything, the way Silas didn’t act the way he would expect an android to act. Why it always seemed to enjoy making him angry. Well, if Silas was deviant then...

Grinning maliciously Gavin reached for his gun, pulling it out he studied Silas’ expression as he pressed the barrel of it against his forehead. “Well, if you are defective then I guess I’ll have to put you out of your misery, and mine. So, are you deviant?” 

“Wouldn’t you love that, Gavin.” Silas murmured, leaning forward, ignoring the gun pressed against his head. “You would love to be rid of me, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d be elated.” Gavin snarled.

“Which is a shame,” Silas gripped Gavin’s wrist, pulling his hand away from him, tightening his grip on the detective’s arm until Gavin let out a strangled cry. “Because deviant or not I have no intention on leaving. No matter how hard to whine, bitch, or how much you throw a temper tantrum. And you have only you to blame for it, Gavin.”

A shiver ran down Gavin’s spine at the way Silas said his name. Wrenching his arm free he kept his gaze locked on the android as it moved closer and closer to him. There was something else in those eyes of his, something hungry. Something dark. Something cruel. 

Gritting his teeth Gavin raised his gun, the barrel pointed at Silas’ chest as he continued to advance. 

“Ever since I met you there has been something about you that had intrigued me. Something about you that called out to me. Something inside of me that is drawn to you. Something that wants to get to know you, inside and out. I’ve tried to stop it...” Silas’s brow furrowed, seeming lost in his own little world.

And for the first time in a very long time Gavin Reed was actually scared. Taking a step back he bit back a curse when he backed into one of the desks, not tearing his eyes from the android that was slowly advancing on him. 

“Sounds to me like you are fucked in the head.” Gavin said, inching around the desk to get as far away from Silas as he could, mentally kicking himself for allowing himself to stay here alone with him. And now, he was going to get killed by this fucker. 

“Perhaps,” Silas agreed. A thrill going through his body as he saw the terror in Gavin’s eyes. “But still... I’m loving it. And you know what else, Gavin?”

Silence. The detective in question as moving across the office, away from him. Sighing, he followed after him. Grabbing a hold of Gavin’s wrist, just as he swung at Silas, which he deftly dodged, before grabbing a hold of both of Gavin’s wrists. Pinning the man against the wall, cornering him.

“First of it’s rather rude for you to walk off when someone is talking to you.” Silas sighed, as Gavin continued to struggle against him, all in vain, Silas was, and always would be the stronger of the two. The joys of being an android, to think that Gavin thought nothing of him, when all it would take was a flick of his wrist and he could end his life. Not that he ever would, but it was always a nice thought.

“Well, excuse me if I don’t want to deal with you anymore tonight. Or ever since you’re acting crazy, and you know what? Come tomorrow I’m putting a call into Cyberlife and having your defective ass tossed into the junk heap-”

“That’s quite enough, Gavin.” Silas sighed, his hand wrapping around Gavin’s fragile, human neck, all it would take was him closing his hand around his neck and that would be all she wrote. “You’re not getting rid of me.” He whispered, pressing Gavin against the wall, hovering over him. 

That anger that shone so beautifully in Gavin’s eyes was quickly replaced with terror. “I want to know everything about you.” Silas said, his voice getting quieter and quieter. His faces inching closer and closer to Gavin, who had stopped struggling to look at him.

“The hell are you going to do-”

Whatever else Gavin was going to ask was cut off as Silas pressed his surprisingly soft lips against his, silencing him. Shocked Gavin found himself unable to move, of all the things he would experience this would be the last thing on the list...it was...different. It was kind of nice, even if the android currently kissing him was outright terrifying. However, before Gavin could dwell that thought any further Silas slowly pulled away. His cheeks flushed a soft blue, and he seemed out of breath.

Silence permeated the room as the two men stood staring at each other, the hand that had been previously wrapped around Gavin’s throat was now caressing his cheek as Silas took in the sight of the man. Smiling when he saw pink dusting Gavin’ s cheeks, and he seemed out of breath.

Then what seemed like forever Silas pulled his hand away. “You won’t get rid of me. I won’t let you.” Silas whispered. “After all, you belong to me.”

And with that Silas was gone, leaving poor Gavin to his jumbled thoughts, as he stood there with his back still pressed up against the wall, cheeks still flushed. After what seemed like forever Gavin finally moved, his fingers brushing against his lips, his mind reliving the kiss over and over again, anger warring with confusion over it. He...liked it. He actually liked it... Blinking a few times he looked after Silas, wondering where the android was going with this, and wondering what he was going to do with this knew found knowledge.

Brushing those thoughts from his head, he made his way to his desk to grab his jacket, and powering his computer down before leaving...thoughts of Silas running through his tired mind.

That was far better than Silas thought it would be, the android thought as he walked down the street, his tongue brushing against his lips as he headed to the small apartment he shared with Connor. Remembering the way Gavin tasted. He tasted of the coffee he lived off of, of the cigarette Silas had tried over and over again to get him to quit. And of something that was entirely Gavin. It was intoxicating, and Silas couldn’t help but think of how thigs would turn out for him and Gavin. Thoughts of the detective still running through his mind as he finally made it his home. He wanted more...

[junionigiri]

Just Another Secretary Story! Chapter 4 - It’s Always Her

Chapter summary: Director Todoroki hires a new secretary.

Rating: T

It’s rare to see Midoriya as ill-tempered as he is now, yet Shouto is proud to say that when it happens it’s almost always because of him.

The green-haired executive moves to slam a handful of filled-out forms over his desk, but changes his mind at the last minute and places it gently in front of him instead. “Here’s what you asked for, Todoroki-kun. Don’t you ever make me do that again. I said so many lies I almost stress-barfed in your office! Twice!”

“Never again,” Shouto lies. “Brilliant execution as always, Midoriya. No-one suspected a thing. I could not ask for a better accomplice.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” he says with a hearty harrumph and a pleased little flush on his freckled cheeks that betrays what he just said. “Anyways I know how important this is to you so I’m glad I could help.”

The result of Midoriya’s hard work is the fake survey form that Shouto designed to help him woo Secretary Uraraka. To avoid Uraraka’s suspicions, he told the marketing chief give out other forms to anyone willing to answer them. By the end of the day he gets five neatly filled-out forms with a wealth of valuable information hidden within. Now...

“Which one is Secretary Uraraka’s?”

Midoriya looks at him incredulously. “Come on, Director. You don’t know how your own secretary’s handwriting looks like?”

“How would I know what it looks like? We don’t write each other letters.”

(But if Uraraka is inclined towards romantic handwritten letters, it won’t be difficult for him to deliver. Shouto is proud to say that his calligraphy skills are superb.)

“Oh man. Okay, I’ll help.” The chief starts sifting through the papers with intense concentration. “Okay, so this one is Ashido-san’s, I’m sure I saw her use a sparkly purple gel pen to sign all her documents and also it’s full of hand-drawn emojis. This one’s Iida-kun’s, since the writing’s so pressured and accurate and his ideal date is reading encyclopedias at the library with a scholarly individual who knows how to use the Dewey Decimal System. This one--”

Shouto cuts him off. “I thought this was a survey for women.”

Midoriya shrugs. “The guys felt left out, so I gave them some too.”

“Hm.”

“Anyhow… this one is Monoma-kun ‘cause it’s written entirely in French. And this one I think is by Kirishima-kun ‘cause he drew himself doing pull-ups at the gym...”

Shouto rubs the space between his eyes as he wonders how in the world this group of people manage to become the most productive set of people in the company.

“... oh! And here’s Uraraka-san’s.”

Midoriya hands him the form in question. The handwriting is small and messy, but legible. The few erasures were crossed out with a single line and countersigned. All in all a civilized entry, but only at about 85%.

Shouto wrinkles his nose in suspicion. “How are you sure that this is hers?”

“Process of elimination,” the freckled chief answers with confidence. “That, and… she wrote her name on it.”

True enough the characters for Uraraka Ochako are scrawled on top of the page. All right then.

Shouto reads through the answers within the span of a minute, absorbing every detail, and rereading them again. With each review, he feels the smile on his face grow larger.

Is this really the ordinary relationship with an ordinary person that Secretary Uraraka wants? While it’s nothing that he expected at all from his capable secretary…

“Todoroki-kun, you’re smiling a little too evilly there,” Midoriya mumbles nervously. “What are you planning?”

Isn’t this going to be too easy?  “Nothing special, Midoriya. Just something ordinary.”

With a new plan forming in his head, he’s sure that Uraraka isn’t going anywhere.

*

 The top of that day’s agenda is the interview for Secretary Uraraka’s replacement.

About a dozen men and women with all sorts of impressive accomplishments patiently wait for their turn outside the Office of the Executive Director. The first candidate sits politely on the plush sofa in front of Ochako and the Director himself.

Utsushimi Camie, 30 years old, a proud graduate of Shiketsu’s communications department. Not surprising. All of them tended to be from Shiketsu or UA or Ketsubutsu or some fancy university overseas. Ochako, who only finished a certificate course in secretarial work, has only dreamed of having that kind of education. It’s still baffling nine years later how an underqualified twenty-year old temp like her ever managed to get hired by Chairman Todoroki’s son.

Now that she’s at the other side of the table, maybe she’ll gain some insight on it. Ochako opens Utsushimi’s file and gives her a bright smile. “Utsushimi-san, thank you for coming. How are you feeling today?”

The first thing anyone will notice about Utsushimi is how gorgeous she is--long light-brown hair, full lips, a good figure, an elegant fashion sense. The confident way she carries herself makes her look like she belongs in this office. Ochako automatically thinks she’s perfect for the job.

And then she speaks. “Yeah, I’m totes… I mean, totally feeling super great today, thanks for asking! I’m so stoked to be here. Cool office, cool space… and you two are looking super hot today too, by the way.”

Ochako’s smile freezes on her face, while Director Todoroki’s face remains stoic. Okay then...

Clearing her throat, Ochako moves on to the first question. “So, Utsushimi-san--”

“You can call me Camie, I totally don’t mind.”

“... Utsushimi… Camie-san.” Keeping a careful side-eye on Director Todoroki, Ochako continues. “It says here that you worked at Orca Law Office before. What were your responsibilities there?”

“The low down in Law Town? Okay, I gotcha.” Confidently, she gives a breakdown of all the things she had to do and all the things she’s capable of doing. Ochako asks her a few more questions about what she knows of the company, current events, and hypothetical situations. Camie is able to answer them properly, although her language is too… casual for the setting.

Okay, so she isn’t bad. Ochako’s sure that the Director would reject her immediately, though. He had rejected applicants in the past just by the way they said their names. But the minutes pass by with Camie talking, and he has not said a single scathing word yet.

Ochako looks at him, and suddenly it’s apparent why he’s so silent--his odd eyes are staring at a spot in the ninth dimension. Looks like he hasn’t been listening at the very start. Ochako is rightfully irritated. Damn him if he thinks that he’ll make her do all the work here!

“Director, do you have anything you want to ask Utsushimi-san?”

Todoroki’s eyeballs moves to her in utter disinterest. “Must I?”

The smile on Ochako’s mouth strains. “Of course. She might be your future secretary, after all.”

He turns to Camie, who is looking too relaxed for the menacing gaze being directed at her. The Director taps his fingers on his armrest for a few tense moments, stretching the suffocating silence in between.

Just as Ochako considers breaking the silence with another question, Director Todoroki finally speaks up. “I have an important question for you, Utsushimi-san.”

A feeling of foreboding instantly fills Ochako’s chest. Utsushimi seems oblivious to the chill in the air as she asks, “Ya, fire away.”

He gives a meaningful side-glance to his present secretary as he asks, “If I hire you, how many years will it take before you quit?”

Ochako’s face stiffens.

Camie hums thoughtfully. “If I get this job, I’m defo not gonna think about quitting, y’know? Like, I came here to work, so, yeah. That’s just weird.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” Now he shows interest, and Ochako does not appreciate it at all. “But let’s say that you’re going to quit. That you have to quit because of something as trivial and vague as personal reasons. How many years will be acceptable before you get to that point? Say… three years? Five? Nine?”

Oh that’s just foul. Ochako barely keeps her jaw dropping at that blatant jab.

To the strange question, Camie merely chuckles. “A hundred? I’m kidding, I seriously dunno. I can tell you though that I’m too legit to quit, ya feel me? And if I have to quit, it’ll be legit. Vague is totally not my style.”

Ochako sees Todoroki’s mouth move again, but this time she beats him to it. “But Camie-san, the demands of this job are massive and unforgiving. What’ll you do if you and Director Todoroki’s definition of ‘legit’ don’t overlap?”

Camie shrugs. “Then I guess I won’t quit?”

“Great answer.” Todoroki smirks at Ochako. “Do you think these standards are worth attaining given the benefits you’ll be receiving? Health, security, experience--”

“Ya. They’re pretty lit~”

“So Camie-san, are you saying that you’ll be prepared to sacrifice everything for this job just for the benefits? It’s not just going to work early and going home late and not having days off. It’s literal blood, sweat, tears, heartache--”

“If I have to, sure. N-B-D.”

“But surely all the hours and blood and sweat and tears and heartache are necessary sacrifices for the good of the company. Didn’t you come here expecting to give your all for Endeavor Inc?”

“Sacrifices are okay, but Camie-san, sure you ain’t—I mean, you aren’t expecting to lose your sense of self just for the good of the company, are you?”

“Uh…”

Before either of them realize it, Director and Secretary have abandoned the interview completely in favor of glaring at each other from opposite ends of the couch. By the end of it Director Todoroki’s eyes are flaring, while Ochako’s knuckles are sore from gripping Camie’s file too hard.

“Utsushimi,” Todoroki calls, but he isn’t looking at her at all; he doesn’t even seem to be aware that she’s there anymore. No, all that cold, raw emotion behind is eyes is for Ochako and Ochako alone. “Do you think that nine years of working with me is... will be a waste of your life?”

A chill runs through her as if she’s struck by ice. There isn’t much that Ochako can do to stop her hands from shaking and her lower lip from quivering except to stare at him in shock.

Camie stares at them one after the other with an interested smile on her face. “Um. If you hire me, I’ll do my best,” is what she decides on saying after an awkward silence.

His glaring heterochromatic eyes not leaving Ochako’s, Director Todoroki raises his right hand and slams it on the table. “Great. You’re hired.”

“What?!” Ochako cries before she can stop herself.

“Whoa, for real?”

“Indeed. Welcome to the team.” Director Todoroki stands up from the couch, too self-satisfied for Ochako to feel comfortable. “Well then, Secretary Uraraka, I’ll leave the transfer of duties to you. I’m confident that you won’t leave until Secretary Utsushimi is able to do your job adequately.”

Trying to keep herself from clenching her jaw, Ochako smiles stiffly. “Of course, Director. You can count on me.”

She wonders if Camie’s actively choosing to ignore the drama or if she’s just that dense, but she is entirely unaffected by the showdown that took place. “You guys, you totes had me going there, I thought I was cancelled the moment I walked in! C’mere, c’mere, employment selfie yeahhhhhh!!!”

Before either of them can react, Camie already has her phone out and has expertly squooshed them together on the couch. Todoroki falls back on the cushions, Ochako half-stumbles over him, and Camie sits next to her brandishing a finger heart. “Let’s do this fam! Say Colorado~”

Say what you will about Utsushimi Camie, but her employment selfie with the famous icyhot Director and his stressed secretary earns her eight hundred likes and a hundred more followers within the next hour. 

 *

 Disastrous interview aside, Ochako thinks she can get along well with the new secretary. She may look too laid-back and casual on the surface, but it’s surprisingly easy to get a good conversation going with her. When she starts telling her about all the intimidating things she has to learn, the other girl accepts them with an easygoing smile.

“Like, so I get that Directoroki’s extra when it comes to work so I gotta be extra too… but dang, I gotta take care of the cat too?” 

“Try not to call him that,” Ochako says successfully without laughing her ass off. “Victoria’s got her own file right here--” she pats one of the thickest clearbooks in the pile of things Camie has to memorize by the end of the week, “--but it’ll be a while before you get cat duties, so don’t worry about her for now. For the first week, you’ll focus on the work in the office.”

“Gotcha, senpai. ”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Ochako stammers, even though she feels her ears clapping happily at the feeling. “I mean--I’m a year younger than you, plus I’m quitting real soon, so I won’t be your senpai for long. Just Ochako is fine!”

“Hm… gotcha, Ocha-babes,” Camie says with a wink.

Ocha-babes?

“‘Cause you have such a baby face. I mean, you’re a real cutie pie. A Sanrio character. I bet your boyfriend pinches your cheeks all day. Oh my god.”

Ochako blushes all the way to the roots of her hair. “Thanks I think? But I don’t have a boyfriend...”

“Nah?” Camie asks with a pucker of her lips. “A girlfriend then? A nonbinary pal?”

“Nope! I’m single… since birth, ” she says, slurring over the last part.

“Oh, worm.” For the first time since she got here, Camie looks terribly puzzled. “Like, tell me if I’m wrong, ‘kay? I thought people can get it on here as long as it doesn’t get in the way of work?”

“Yeah, relationships aren’t a problem. Even married people can work in the same office,” Ochako confirms.

“Oh sis that’s great news. I thought it was gonna be like Orca’s again. People got fired all the time just ‘cause they made eye contact in the office. Big yikes, right?” The taller secretary looks visibly relieved at this. “Tho I’m real surprised when you said you didn’t have anyone? ‘Cause I totally thought you were having a lover’s quarrel with Directoroki back there.”

Ochako chokes on air. “Wh--me and Directoroki--I mean, Director Todoroki?! No, we’re nothing like that!”

Camie raises her eyebrows. “So, like. The nine years wasting your life thing? He wasn’t salty AF at you for dumping him or whatever?”

“No?!” Wait, she did dump him just a couple days ago, but-- “I mean, no, that doesn’t count! We aren’t… we never-- ”

“Chiiiill.” Camie seems too amused watching the different flustered expressions she’s making. “Sorry, okay? I thought I saw some serious chemistry, but I guess I was wrong.” Going back to the next file, she says, “How ‘bout this one? No kettles allowed near the Director. Seriously?”

Ochako nods. “That’s right. I know it’s weird, but you can’t forget it, okay? It’s really important...”

The other girl makes a face. “Uh-huh. Is it, like, a rich person thing? Is he too bourgeois for kettles or somethin’?”

She shakes her head. “... no. It’s because he doesn’t feel comfortable around them…”

She learned this the hard way during their first year of working together. She wanted to show him how earnest she was by making him tea without being asked. The kettle hadn’t even been on, it wasn’t going to hurt anyone, but he started shielding his face like it was going to burn him. He curled into himself and wouldn’t speak for what felt like hours, even after she threw the kettle out and apologized profusely and tried to comfort him.

When he finally found his voice and managed to curb the shaking, he asked her quietly to never let him near another kettle again. It was the first time he had asked her of something that wasn’t a command, but a plea--the first time he seemed so…

Human…

Even though she can’t keep her eyes off the scar, she never knew the story behind it. She never asked and he never said anything. She convinced herself that she can exist beside him without digging up that part of his past--she was afraid that she’d hurt him again if she did.

Forcing herself back to the present, she gives Camie a pleading smile. “I’m the same with fire, you know? If I see even a little flame from a lighter, I’d start shaking and crying like a baby even though I should know better... the Director doesn’t put me anywhere near them because he knows how I’m not comfortable around fire, so I try my best to keep him away from kettles. We should just respect that, okay?”

Camie looks at her carefully. “... aight. Any and all kettles shall be yeeted off the face of this earth. Gotcha.”

Ochako giggles. “The yeeting isn’t necessary, but thanks for understanding!”

Thankfully Camie doesn’t ask further about her or the Director. She wonders if she’s too protective of the Director, but she truly can’t stand to see him like that again. 

*

Later on she decides to introduce Camie to the rest of the office. They react about the same as she expected--Monoma sizes her up, Mina dances with her, Kirishima shakes her arm so hard it almost pops off its socket, and Iida gives her a stern lecture about formal workplace Japanese that lasts all of fifteen minutes.

“--and furthermore, unless you are speaking about lanterns, LEDs, hazardous fires, the sun, or other luminous things, kindly refrain from using the term lit to describe anything--”

What she doesn’t expect though, is Camie nudging Ochako in the middle of Iida’s impassioned, action-packed speech to whisper, “Yo, this one’s mine, ‘kay?” with a wink.

Ochako gives her a “go ahead then” nod.

By the time Iida is done, the work-day is pretty much done too. After shaking himself out of Iida-induced slumber, Kirishima gathers everyone ‘round. “Hey, I got an idea! We should throw Utsushimi the manliest welcome party ever!”

Everyone but Iida cheers. “A party?! Preposterous! It’s a weekday!” he protests. “We should concentrate on preserving our energies for attending to the Director’s needs tomorrow!”

“Iida, don’t be such an Iida ! You already bored her to death with your lecture, now we gotta prove to Camie-chan that we aren’t workbots like you!” Mina whines.

“Agreed.” Monoma directs an ominous smile at Camie. “It’ll be good for Utsushimi-san to have one last peaceful meal as a free person, right?”

“Ya, totes,” Camie answers, unfazed. It’s pretty satisfying how Monoma’s face sours at that, and how it sours more when Camie ignores his antics in favor of Iida. Turning to the glasses man with a flair that makes her hair swirl, she smiles and says, “Fam, we’re all going to be working together like real fam, right? Bonding is part of work too~”

Iida sputters like a malfunctioning engine. “Perhaps that is so, however, I do not see the need for high-cholesterol food and alcohol to--”

“ Mou! Ochako-chan, just tell us we’re allowed to party already!” Mina says, going into a full blown tantrum. “I want barbecue, barbecue!!! Oh, but don’t worry, the place I’m thinking of has electric grills, so no worries about fire or anything...”

She loves this office. She’s really going to miss them when she leaves. “Sure, why not? I’m starving!”

Again, everyone but Iida cheers. The glasses man just sputters more. “B-but the Director…!!”

“It’s fine, he let us go early so we can focus on Camie. Besides, if he needs you, Iida-kun, he’ll just pick you up at the party!”

Iida scowls through the jeers of the others in the office. “That is not funny, Uraraka-kun, nor is it accurate. You’re his priority, not me.”

“Yeah. He’d sooner join us at this plebe’s party than to let Uraraka out of his sight for one night,” Monoma comments idly as they trail out of the office one by one.

*

 On top of being the resident rat bastard (self-proclaimed), Monoma just might be the office prophet as well.

So there they were in the hole-in-the-wall barbecue place. The grill’s electric as Mina promised so they’re able to cook the beef belly slices without Ochako getting a panic attack. Monoma’s goading Camie into a fight, Mina’s goading Monoma, Camie’s flirting with Iida, Iida’s trying to decode her words as if they were the Hammurabi code, and Kirishima’s dumping overcooked meat onto everyone’s plates. There’s food and beer and everyone’s getting redder and redder in the face. It’s fun.

It happens at around the fifth batch of meat that Kirishima burns to a crisp. “I daresay, Kirishima! This beef is not beef anymore, but a piece of coal!” Iida complains.

“Bro, crispy meat’s manly! Come on, eat up!”

“Blegh. I prefer my meat to not be as dark and shrunken as Director Todoroki’s soul, thanks,” Monoma hiccups. “I can’t see anything ‘cause of all the smoke. Someone confiscate the tongs from Kirishima before I shove them right up--”

A cold, bitter wind from the dead of winter floods the air around them and stops all conversation in their tracks. Kirishima drops the meat tongs with a loud noise.

It’s impossible that the entire restaurant would fall so deathly silent, yet Ochako can hear nothing but the familiar footfalls of genuine Italian leather over the grimy concrete floor. Closer, and closer, and closer. Around the table, everyone but the confused Camie exchanges mildly horrified looks and then stare right at Ochako.

Don’t tell me…

“Secretary Uraraka.”

Out of the smoke of burnt spicy beef comes the silhouette of none other than Todoroki Shouto.

“Director?” Ochako is the first to stand to bow, followed by the rest of the table who is only half a millisecond slower to shift from completely drunk to painfully sober. “What are you doing here?”

The stoic executive has an ungodly strong presence that makes everyone in a hundred meter radius stop and stare. But the overall effect is different in this grimy barbecue place versus the lofty offices of Endeavor Towers--he sticks out less as a divine presence and more like a sore thumb. He’s entirely aware of this too, judging by the way his nose wrinkles in distaste.

“This is an activity of the Office of the Executive Director.” He points to himself. “I’m the Executive Director. I should be here.”

Ochako can almost hear the same panicked internal thoughts of every member of the team: shiiiiiiit. Who snitched?!

It’s probably too late to salvage this very awkward situation, but to Iida’s credit he is the first to gallantly try. He jumps off his spot and bows at perfect ninety-degree angles. “O-o-of course, the Director should be at the very forefront of this activity! How shameful we are to forget! Why, I am astonished! Ashamed! Utterly mortified that he is not involved at the very beginning!”

“As you should.” Todoroki breezes past him, uncaring of the way Iida flinches like he just got stabbed by an icicle through the gut and the way everyone else is suddenly paper white and shaking in their shoes. “Uraraka, I’ll forgive this oversight today. Just today. This will not stand in the future.”

“Of course not sir,” Ochako replies, scrambling for her polite and efficient and not-drunk secretary voice deep within her brain, “But you made it! In this, um, event without anyone telling you how to get here! So thank you for coming to Secretary Utsushimi’s welcome party!”

“You’re welcome.” And then with his version of a winning smile (which is just both corners of his mouth moving 2 picometers upward), he tells his hapless office, “Let’s continue then.” 

 *

 Since taking up his position as the Executive Director of Endeavor Inc three years ago and gradually picking out members of his team, he has never joined them for social gatherings like this. It’s not that he’s opposed to eating at ordinary (cheap) restaurants and eating ordinary (cheap) meat and drinking ordinary (cheap, and likely terrible) liquor like they do, just that he’s never considered it. If they had drinks at the upscale restaurants he liked maybe he’d join them, but then again socializing for work is exhausting enough as it is and he’d rather drink the aged whisky he kept at home.

That was then. Now he has something to prove: that he can be the ordinary man that Uraraka wants to marry. He’s going to ingest cheap meat and cheap liquor and he’s going to enjoy it so hard that Uraraka can’t say no to him.

He’s seated on an uncomfortable bench between Uraraka and Monoma, with Utsushimi on the other end; across from him are Iida, Ashido, and Kirishima. He would have seated himself at the head of the table as Iida has offered, but he didn’t like how Monoma could easily touch or grope or breathe in the general direction of his secretary. Not that he knew Monoma to do those unseemly things, but he had heard what cheap alcohol could do to any salaryman and he’s not risking his personal assistant going through any sort of harassment that will get her productivity down.

He doesn’t have any cause to worry right now though, because somehow they’re all enjoying the party in utter silence. They’ve abandoned their beers in favor of tea and ice-cold water. Ashido is the first to move since he sat down, and it is to sip at her drink with a shaking hand.

So this is how ordinary people have fun. Shouto isn’t that impressed, but far be it for him to judge anyone on how they spend their free time after work.

“S-so, Director. Would you like anything to drink?” Iida cautiously asks, face paler than usual. “Or perhaps, some beef?”

He carefully considers the dark matter on his plate. His nutritionist will take a month to correct the imbalance in his system if he ate this. “... a drink first,” he decides. Signalling one of the part-timers passing by, he says, “I’ll have a Boulevardier if it’s available.”

The part-timer stares at him blankly. “A what?”

So it’s not. He should have expected that from a place like this. “Never mind. I’ll have an amaretto sour instead.”

“ Oji-san, all we got here is beer or Pepsi, ‘kay. If ya want something fancy an’ sour I’ll boil the nicest pickles in the kitchen for ya.”

Oji-san? Since when did he become this kid’s uncle? Did any of his siblings sire a secret love child without him knowing?

Before he can ask, Secretary Uraraka covers for him. “He’ll have the tea too, thanks!”

He doesn’t know what he did to earn that flat-out glare he gets from the kitchen staff, but he isn’t going to let that deter him from his plan. “So. This is… enjoyable. You all seem to know how to have a good time.”

The strained silence over the table breaks into simultaneous laughter from all sides. “Y-yeah, we sure know how to party! Wh… Whoo-hoo!” Ashido cheers, her entire body trembling in what must be pure excitement.

“Yeah! This is fun and not awkward at all!” Monoma adds with a manic laugh bordering on insane. “So, so, so, soooo fun. My heart’s racing from 100% fun and 0% crippling fear!”

“Good.” If he can put a percentage to things, it must be accurate. Everyone else seems to agree so it looks like the evening (slash fool-proof plan) is going well. “Out of curiosity, how long does a standard party like this take?”

It is already eleven PM and late for a weeknight. It’s not a problem for him to stay out for longer--he has stayed up past midnight many times with Uraraka for work, after all, but he figured he should ask for posterity’s sake.

Uraraka clears her throat beside him. “Funny you should ask, Director! We’re actually almost done. This is our last round of drinks!”

Across from him, Ashido, Iida, and Monoma suddenly share wide-eyed looks that suspiciously look enlightened. “Th… that’s right! Because we’re responsible working adults and we must head home early on a weeknight! Now that we have thoroughly celebrated the employment of Utsushimi-kun we can happily head home to rest!”

They can go home now? It was that easy? Shouto keeps his smirk to himself. See how easy it is to do ordinary things, Uraraka? He truly isn’t a man to be underestimated.

Kirishima, however, looks puzzled over this. “Eh? But I went through all that trouble reserving the karaoke place, you guys! Did you all forget abou--ow, ow, ow, ow, Ashido!”

Oh, so they’re not yet done? How could they forget what’s on their agenda? Is that why Ashido is so angry at Kirishima? They must have been looking forward to this. Luckily for them, Shouto isn’t going to let such an ordinary mistake get in the way of their good time. “Karaoke after drinks sounds enjoyable. Let’s head out.”

And so Shouto loads them all in his car, with Uraraka on the passenger seat and the rest of them piled up at the back. The drive to the thoroughly unimpressive place Kirishima has picked out takes about ten gruelling crowded minutes. By the time they make it there, the rest of his team seem relieved to be able to finally breathe, but then make it to a just-as-suffocating small box with nauseating disco lights, an old machine, and an awful audio set-up.

And tambourines. God. He’s trying hard for Uraraka, but even she doesn’t seem to be enjoying herself in a sticky place like this. Shouto has to draw the line somewhere.

“Everyone get back in the car,” he commands darkly, and they’re all running out of the room after a beat.

It takes exactly one text message to the right person for his office to go to a better place they deserve. Shouto takes them to a small music theater in Kiyashi where the last run of Les Miserables was performed privately by his acquaintances from London’s West End. It’s unused at this time of night, so it was easy getting them to set-up for a karaoke party for seven people.

“Directoroki, you rock!” Utsushimi cheers as she rapidly takes photos of all angles of the stage.

He should probably mind the way she just stumbled over his name, but he doesn’t, because for once Uraraka seems impressed. “Let the party commence.”

His office crew’s aura is vastly different than in the barbecue place. They start drinking as soon as the cocktails are served and immediately start fighting over the microphone. Ashido wins first and slurs over a Nicki Minaj song. Kirishima tries to get Iida to sing “Be A Man” with him but ends up aggressively singing all the parts by himself. Etcetera, etcetera. With each song they sing, they progressively get drunker, bolder, and out of tune.

Surprisingly, Shouto doesn’t mind. Maybe because he’s finally drinking something that he’s sure doesn’t taste like piss. Or maybe because Uraraka’s sitting right next to him, clapping along happily as Utsushimi and Monoma sing a Carly Rae Jepsen song while threatening to judo-throw each other for the mic.

A warm feeling spreads over his chest when he looks at her. He knows it’s not just the highball he nurses over the span of an hour. He knows it’s not just the satisfaction of his plan going well. He knows it’s not indigestion from the burnt meat he didn’t eat back in the restaurant.

Uraraka’s smiling brown eyes turn to his. Suddenly his chest feels something akin to heartburn.

She says something that’s drowned out by Monoma and Utsushimi competitively screaming “I really really really really really really like you!!!” Shouto has to lean in closer to hear her. “What was that, Secretary Uraraka?”

She brings her mouth closer to his ear. Her warm breath smells like the strawberry syrup from whatever sweet drink is in her hand. It’s unnervingly pleasant. Shouto has to concentrate to understand what she’s saying. “I said, thanks Director! I really--”

--Really really really really really like you!.. And I want you! Do you want me?--

“--how about you?”

Shouto meets her expectant gaze, for once not knowing what to say. “... yes,” he answers, after a beat.

She smiles. Her cheeks are glowing light and pink, like sakura petals in the spring. “That’s awesome!” She says, for once letting go of the usual formal Japanese she uses with him. “You should join the team for drinks even after I quit, okay?”

“... ah.”

Suddenly irritated, he takes a good healthy swig of his drink and swallows with a grimace. Well… this is fine. This is only phase one of his plan. Knowing how decisive Uraraka is, she isn’t going to change her mind about him that easily. It’s actually better this way. That’s the secretary he hired, after all. That’s the person he wants to keep at his side.

Kirishima’s spiky head pushes between their conversation. “Heyyyy!! Uraraka! Are you thanking Directoroki over here?!! No fair, I wanna thank him too!”

“Excuse me?” Shouto says stiffly. The redhead ignores him though and traps him in a bone-crushing hug.

“I appreciate you! You… are the bestest, manliest boss ever, Directoroki!” Kirishima hiccups rather dramatically and rubs his cheek against Shouto’s. “And you deserve the world! And you should… you should--”

Shouto gives Uraraka a horrified look, which she throws right back at him. She visibly gains some sobriety as she attempts to pry off Kirishima’s muscular arm off of him with little success. “Kirishima-kun, you should drink some water and--”

“Heyyyyy Kiri move over! I wanna thank the Director too! Hic~” Suddenly, Shouto’s other side is being hugged by another unwelcome warm body reeking of alcohol. He freezes like a block of cement as Ashido straight-up cuddles him. “Like, you’re an awesome… awesome, handsome man, like oh my god I can’t believe how handsome you are up close, what the hell! Have you ever seen a man so beautiful you want to cry? Wait, what am I saying?…”

As Ashido starts weeping and getting lost in his face, Shouto decides he has had enough. He’s ready to shove the two assistants aside when another one decides he wants attention too.

Monoma has abandoned the stage and decides to join them. “How dare you smother the Director without me!” Fueled by alcohol, he reaches new heights of extraneousness and places himself across the increasingly uncomfortable Shouto’s lap. “Director, pick me! I’m your favorite, aren’t I?”

“Secretary Uraraka--” Shouto barks like an SOS.

Monoma pouts with a noise. “Her again? It’s always her! Are you in-love with her or something?”

It’s Uraraka’s turn to make an exasperated noise. “Honestly, you three! You are gonna get fired by tomorrow if you keep harassing the Director!”

It’s amazing how she’s still able to read Shouto’s mind so perfectly even in an absurd situation like this. But for all her warnings, all he gets for it is more unwanted bodily contact. “Harassment?! Not on my watch!”

Iida’s bellow is steadfast, but his gait is definitely not. It’s almost impressive how he keeps his body straight while also walking in an unsteady zigzag towards whatever it is that’s going on around Shouto and ends up dropping at his feet. Haplessly groping the director’s pants leg, he demands, “Cease this needless groping of the Director at once!”

“I’m getting major FOMO, y’all! Move over!” To top off this mess, Utsushimi sits near Shouto’s other foot next to Iida’s fallen body and takes her hundredth selfie with everyone. “Best party ever faaaam!!! Peace!”

That’s it, everyone is fired. Shouto is about ready to throw all of them to the floor and all their employment forms in the shredder, until a strange sound floats to his ear amidst all the drunken noises.

“Pffffttt--”

Uraraka is covering her mouth and holding onto her stomach in desperation. At first he’s worried that she’s in pain from a ruptured appendix, but further inspection reveals stuttered breathing, reddening cheeks, a smile so big that her trademark round cheeks are struggling to support it. It’s obvious that she worked so hard not to make the strange sound, but one snort and all anyone can do is watch the dam break.

Secretary Uraraka is laughing at him earnestly for the first time in nine years.

Now this shouldn’t be strange as Shouto is not a humorous man and has never given her any reason to laugh before. But now that he thinks about it, isn’t it strange to spend nine years with someone and never see them laugh or smile like this? Why hasn’t he noticed until now?

If--no, when he marries her (because he definitely will, there’s no way his plan is going to fail), is she going to allow herself to laugh like this?

“I’m s-sorry, Director,” she wheezes after another minute of desperate laughter. He’s never seen someone laugh so much that they’re in tears. He didn’t know it was a thing that happened. “I’m--we’re all going to write letters of apology tomorrow, I promise! Please don’t fire anyone!”

He takes a steadying breath. “All right. I’ll be expecting them at seven in the morning. Sharp.”

His team finally lets him go with a stunned air about them, staring at his face in interest.

“Uh… the Director’s smiling. I must be dreaming,” Ashido mumbles in a daze.

“Or wasted. I’m never drinking again.” Monoma says, holding back a gag.

The rest of the office agrees and follows the sober Shouto to his car. 

 *

 With Uraraka’s guidance, they’re able to drop off all the members of his office at their designated homes without much problems. Because her home is the farthest one, Shouto takes his time getting to the correct exits (he still had to make a couple of u-turns here and there) and driving his car slowly through the narrow streets to avoid any wayward pots. He is proud to say that he is able to make it without any further incidents. Uraraka gets down from his car safely.

He escorts her as far as the unimpressive entrance to her apartment. “So… this is me, Director,” she says quietly, feet shuffling against the welcome mat. “Um. Thanks for dropping me off, but you didn’t need to walk me all the way here.”

“It’s nothing.”

She has a difficult time keeping eye contact with him tonight, which is rare. Maybe it’s from her impulsive actions earlier, or maybe because she’s noticed the way he’s plotting the exact color and diameters of her wide brown eyes, her cheeks. The more he stares, the pinker her cheeks get. It’s an interesting scientific phenomenon.

Objectively speaking, Uraraka has an... acceptable face. People with acceptable faces tend to be subjected to prolonged looks. From experience he knows how uncomfortable this can get and hates that he’s subjecting her to the same treatment, but he can’t stop staring. She’s just so… round. And soft-looking. He’s tempted to touch her cheeks even if there’s no real purpose behind them than to see if they’re as soft as they appear.

He doesn’t usually get senseless impulses like this. Maybe he isn’t that sober after all.

Uraraka clears her throat and finally looks up at him. “Out of curiosity, Director. You never joined us for drinks before, but tonight you really… um…”

He hums. “Everyone needs an ordinary night out to unwind, once in a while.”

Upon the word ordinary, her face falters, and then contorts into laughter again--truly an interesting sound. “There’s nothing ordinary about the night you gave us, Director Todoroki! But it’s good. It’s fun. You really surprised us, in a good way.”

What, so his attempts at ordinary failed after all? He’s a little nonplussed about this, but the giggle from her tells him that it isn’t all for nothing.

“But please, no more surprises in the future, okay? I’m not sure if my heart can take it.”

“I make no such promises,” he says flatly, “but if your heart is not okay, please get a comprehensive cardiovascular workup done as soon as possible.”

Uraraka’s eyes crease in a way he’s never seen before. “Goodnight, Director Todoroki.”

He steps away from her with a feeling suspiciously similar to reluctance. She doesn’t go in immediately and instead sees him off at the entrance. Just before he gets back to the driver’s seat, he calls out, “Uraraka,”

“Yes, Director?” she calls out in mild surprise.

“I warned you not to underestimate me.” He gives her a little upturn of the lips and climbs aboard. “Goodnight.”

The last thing he sees of her is her stunned figure through the rearview mirror. Satisfied, he speeds off into the night without a second glance. 

[louigender]

When I Was Older- Chapter 1

Bucky Barnes x Holmes! Reader (eventually) Avengers x Sherlock

Summary: John Watson is one of Reader’s friends. Her other is a cat whom she found in the alley between two flats. Reader is a Holmes and a high functioning sociopath. The Avengers need the readers help as Moriarty has teamed up with Hydra. Takes place between season 3 and 4 (my favorite season) of Sherlock. Infinity War and Endgame never happened.

Series Warnings: blood, violence, angst, fluff, is Moriarty a warning?, death

A/N: Happy Memorial Day, mis amigos! Here’s chapter one of When I Was Older. This series was inspired by the song by Billie Eilish (love her) and I just rlly love Sherlock. Your feedback of the prologue warmed mi pequeño corazón! Without further ado, here’s the first chapter.

(A/N: i also changed the moodboard)

The quinjet rocked slightly as it flew through the air. Bucky sat, along with the other Avengers, strapped and in his uniform. Clint sat in the pilot seat, navigating. Steve and Tony were talking in hushed whispers, discussing the mission at hand.

They had gotten word of a Hydra base off the shore of England, Sutherland to be exact, and had suited up almost immediately. It was 9pm when they boarded the jet. Now it was close to midnight. Bucky had been riddled with nightmares the past week and was eager to finally get a good’s night rest.

“ETA: five minutes,” barked Clint.

Tony and Steve strapped themselves in their own seats, as Clint flipped switches preparing to land. The quinjet successfully made its descent and the team stood. Steve clipped the shield on his back and walked out. Bucky checked the ammo of his guns before walking down the ramp.

Rolling green hills, light golden colored sand and the salty aroma of sea water, along with the twinkling stars, almost calmed him. Almost. He quickly remembered why they were here and turned the safety off his guns. The team walked in a group, taking in their surroundings and watching out for danger. As they walked through a forest of trees,signs exclaimed ‘danger!’ and some with skulls and crossbones on them.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, scan the area,” ordered Tony.

“There seems to be seven active mines. I am recalculating the route to avoid them,” spike the AI.

A map of the forest with dots,Tony assumed as mines, and a path highlighted.

“Alright follow me.”

The team followed after him a single file line. The hairs on the back of their necks stood on end. Suddenly an explosion rang out, causing them all to flinch. They quickly looked at each other, making sure the other was safe, when they realized they didn’t set off the mine. Someone else did. Tony, Rhodey and Sam took off and flew above the trees to see what had caused the explosion.

“Jesus,” muttered Rhodes as he saw what was in front of him.

The Hydra based was gone, blown to bits. Bodies littered the ground, blood and limbs scattered as well. The tress surrounding the base were burnt and had parts of them blown away. A mine didn’t do this.

“You guys are gonna wanna see this.”

The rest of them quickly made their way to the base and stopped in their tracks. The odor of smoke and burnt flesh hung in the air. They scrunched their noses and walked through the rubble. Bucky looked at the scene in front of him. The mess of dead bodies and concrete made his stomach churn. As he took in what he saw, something caught his eye. Turning to the side he saw the only remaining wall, even thought half of it had been blown away.

“Um guys,” he spoke through the com, “I found something.”

The team quickly found him and Wanda gasped at what she saw. They stood in shock and horror. A man was hanging off the side of the wall by a metal pole in his chest. Written in blood and pieces of flesh was a message.

‘Get Holmes

-M’

Bucky sure wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

***

“You have been busy, haven’t you,” remarked Mycroft, behind his newspaper, with a little laugh. “Quite the busy little bee.” He put his paper down.

“Moriarty’s network, it took me two years to dismantle it,” You replied back as a man stood behind you, cutting your hair.

“You’re confident that you have?”

There goes brother Mycroft, doubting you again.

“The Serbian side was the last piece of the puzzle.”

“Yes. You got yourself in deep there with Baron Maupertius. Quite a scheme,” Mycroft joked.

“Colossal,” You muttered.

“Anyway. You’re safe now. A small ‘thank you’ wouldn’t go amiss.”

“What for?” You mindlessly asked.

“For wading in. In case you’ve forgotten, field work is not my natural milieu.”

Your brows furrowed. You raised a hand to the barber to tell him to stop and sat forward in the chair with a grunt. The Serbian man had done a number on you. “Wading in? You sat there and watched me being beaten to a pulp,” You pointed out.

“I got you out,” defended Mycroft.

“No, I got me out.” You argued back. “Why didn’t you intervene sooner?”

“I couldn’t risk giving myself away, could I?” Mycroft said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world. “It would’ve ruined everything.”

“You were enjoying it,” You accused.

“Nonsense.”

“Definitely enjoying it.”

“Listen, do you have any idea what it was like,” began Mycroft, “(Y/N), going undercover? Smuggling my way into their ranks like that?”

You rolled your eyes.

“The noise, the people!”

You sat back in the chair with another grunt and allowed the barber to finish his work.

“I didn’t know you spoke Serbian,” You questioned.

“I didn’t. But the language has a Slavic root. Frequent Turkish and German loan- words. Took me a couple of hours,” shrugged Mycroft.

“Hmm, you’re slipping.”

An bitter smile crawled its way up Mycroft’s lips. “Middle age, sister mine. Comes to us all.”

The door opened and Anthea stepped through with your clothes in hand.

***

John stepped through 221B Baker Street with timid steps. He watched as dust hovered off the furniture and drifted through the air. You never liked it when people dusted. Memories of your adventures flooded his mind. He drew a breath in to compose himself. Mrs. Hudson came in and turned on the lights.

“I couldn’t face letting in out,” she said. Breaking John’s train of thought.

She walked over and drew the curtains, grimacing at the dirt. “She never liked me dusting.”

“No, I know,” he replied, thinking of the moment when you had a screaming match with Mrs. Hudson about her cleaning.

“Where’s Alyx?” John had also taking a liking to the cat. She reminded him of you.

“Oh, um, she ran away one night and never came back. I leave food out, but she never shows. So why now? What changed your mind?”

“Well, I’ve got some news,” John started.

“Oh god, is it serious,” asked Mrs. Hudson.

“What? No, no I’m not ill. I’ve, uh well, I’m...moving on.”

“You’re emigrating?”

“Nope. Uh, no, I’ve uh, I have met someone,” he explained.

“Oh! Ah, lovely,” gushed the elderly woman.

“Yeah. We’re getting married. Well, I’m going to ask, anyway.” The excitement was evident in his voice.

“So soon after (Y/N)?”

“Hm, well, yes.”

A knock at the door interrupted their conversation. They turned around to see Tony Stark and Steve Rogers in the door way. Mrs. Hudson let out a surprised gasp and John’s eyebrows shot up.

“We hope we’re not intruding, but we, uh, need some help,” Steve shyly said.

“Is (Y/N) Holmes here by any chance?” Asked Tony.

The mention of your name mad them tense. Sadness creeped into their hearts.

“No, she’s not,” John told them.

“Do you know when she’ll be back?”

“She’s gone. As in, uh, dead,” croaked Mrs. Hudson.

This seemed to surprise the two super heroes. “Oh, we’re sorry. We didn’t know,” Steve apologized.

“We’ll be on our way. Sorry again,” Tony nodded his condolences and ushered him and Steve out the flat.

They stepped into the cab that had been waiting.

“So, what now?”

“I have no idea.”

***

“I need you to give this matter your full attention, (Y/N), is that quite clear?” Instructed your brother.

“What do you think of this shirt,” you asked you tucked the shirt in your dress pants.

“(Y/N)!”

“I will find your underground terror cell, Mycroft. Just put me back in London. I need to get to know the place again, breathe it in. Feel every quiver of its beating heart.”

“One of our men died getting this information,” Anthea explained. “All the chatter, all the traffic concurs, there’s going to be a terrorist strike on London, a big one.”

“And what about John Watson,” you asked as you shrugged on your suit jacket.

Mycroft and Anthea shared a look.

“John?”

“Hmm. Have you seen him?”

“Oh yes, we meet up every Friday for fish and chips,” Mycroft said sarcastically.

You gave him a look before shifting your gaze to the mirror, buttoning your jacket.

“I’ve kept a weather eye on him, of course.”

Anthea handed you a file. You opened it. A slew of pictures, along with a few papers were inside.

“We haven’t been in touch at all to prepare him,” explained Mycroft.

You noticed a recent photo of John. He looked the same except he had a mustache on his upper lip. It certainly did not suit him.

“Well, we’ll have to get rid of that,” You said.

“We?”

“He looks ancient. I can’t be seen wandering around with an old man.” You set the file on Mycroft’s desk.

You sighed deeply, putting on the last touches on your outfit. You ran your hands through your hair. You always like it when it fell just past your shoulders. It felt good to be in your familiar clothes after being on the run for the past two years. “I think I’ll surprise John. He’ll be delighted.”

“You think so,” Mycroft doubted with a amused smile on face.

“Hmm, pop off to Baker Street, who knows, jump out of a cake,” you quipped.

“Baker Street? He isn’t there anymore.”

You turned to him, having an incredulous look on your face.

“Why would he be? It’s been two years. He’s got on with his life,” Mycroft explained.

“What life? I’ve been away,” You added.

Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“Where’s he going to be tonight.”

“How should I know?”

“You always know,” you said with confidence.

“He has a dinner reservation in the Marylebone Road. Nice little spot. They have a few bottles of the 2000 St. Emilion, though I prefer the 2001,” told Mycroft.

“I think maybe I’ll just drop by. “

“You know, it is just possible that you won he welcomed,” Mycroft tried to reason to you.

You scoffed. “No, it isn’t. Now, where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

“You know what.”

Anthea came in, your infamous coat in hand and collar popped. You smiled at the sight of your trusty coat. She helped putting it on and you stepped into your iconic black heels.

“Welcome back, Misses Holmes,” voiced Anthea.

“Thank you,” You fixed your newly cut hair and ran your hands down the coat.

You turned to Mycroft. “Blood.”

You walked out and for the first time in two years, you felt alive.

A/N: that’s it for the first chapter! It was actually longer than this but it was too long, so I broke it up into two chapters. I’ll be posting again later this week, so don’t worry.

Taglist:

@izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash

@rootcrop

[babywarg]

ironstrange multipart fic: Settling for a Miracle [4/?]

Chapter Summary: Project Insight happens. Stephen Strange is named as one of the targets. Panic makes someone take drastic measures.

Notes: I FORGOT ABOUT CA:TWS, HOW EMBARRASSING.

I said in my notes in the last chapter that the last scene (with Peter) takes place in 2015. I just realized I skipped ahead in my own plot. So I’m removing the Peter scene from the earlier chapter, and putting it into the NEXT chapter, which deals with 2015. THIS one deals with 2014 only.

For now, I’m keeping my notes for the previous chapter just to remind myself how badly I effed up my own timeline.

The events in this chapter take place around Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014).

WARNING: not explicit, but not entirely worksafe, either.

Originally on AO3.

***

Three military helicarriers took to the skies over the Triskelion. Shortly afterwards, a massive leak of confidential S.H.I.E.L.D. documents made its way into the Internet. One of the most alarming things about the leak was something called Project Insight. It was an extremely precise way of eliminating potential threats to the US government's global superiority. (The leak also exposed that unsavory elements had infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D. and conflated "the US government" with "Hydra." That was, in truth, the most alarming thing about it. There would be senate sub-committee hearings about this for months to come, and a touch of paranoia would remain in more vulnerable minds and hearts.) There was a list of 20 million "high-value targets" in Insight's files. Unsurprisingly, a handful of them were high-profile Enhanced personalities - Bruce Banner. Tony Stark. But surprisingly, the overwhelming majority were regular people, with regular occupations. A student. A housewife in Oklahoma. A security guard working for a small bank in Cuba. And Dr. Stephen Strange in New York. Stephen didn't even know about it until a colleague messaged him. He wasn't on social media and had no time for the "Are YOU an Insight target" quizzes that were fast making the rounds. He wasn't inclined to look through all 20 million names on the actual leaked documents for familiar ones, either. You're on the list, the text said. What list? Stephen asked. Page 5342. And so he knew. A number of other people, including Christine, texted him about it, but he ignored them. He dismissed their messages swiftly and irritably, preferring to use his limited time between consultations to stay updated on the events in DC. Then he got a call. It was Tony. "Stephen." He sounded out of breath. "Where are you? Are you safe?" "I'm in my clinic, " Stephen answered. "Tony, what -" "Don't - don't go anywhere." The call was dropped. Very soon afterwards, onlookers reported hearing an explosion in the sky, as Iron Man launched himself from Stark Tower and hit supersonic speed.

Then reporters on the ground in DC with zoom lenses and keen eyes noted that a fight had broken out aboard one of the helicarriers - between Iron Man and two other individuals, who couldn't fly and so mostly stayed out of sight.

The spectacle drew cameras to it. People barely saw the moment when the helicarriers turned their guns on each other and started blasting each other out of existence.

Then, suddenly, metal debris was falling all over the greater metropolitan area. The Triskelion suffered the worst of the rain of hellfire. Everyone scrambled to get to safer ground.

As soon as the fireworks started, Iron Man abandoned whoever he'd been fighting on that carrier. He used his blasters to aid the ground-to-air strikes that broke up the larger pieces of falling debris, if not pulverized them altogether.

Thanks to Iron Man, damage to civilian property, though inevitable, was minimized. People didn't hesitate to thank him for blowing up the helicarriers, too.

It came out later on the news that Iron Man wasn't even around for most of the fight. The heroes credited for exposing Hydra activities in S.H.I.E.L.D., and for dismantling Project Insight, were Captain America, Black Widow and a new player who called himself Falcon.

So, after praising him for saving the world again, a skeptical section of the media started speculating as to why Iron Man was late to the party.

Stephen sighed as he shut off the news feed on his phone. People just couldn't leave heroes well enough alone, could they?

Good thing Stephen wasn't a hero.

Tony didn't contact him for the rest of the day. Understandable. There was chaos from the top down, and he was probably needed for damage control.

The radio silence from Tony didn't stop Stephen from sending his "rest up" reminder text that night, though. Tony probably needed rest more than usual.

***

The following evening, Tony showed up at his clinic.

"Hey," was the chipper greeting. "You busy?

Stephen blinked. "Um." He glanced down at the thick folder of patient files under his arm, which he'd been fully intending to take home. "I was just heading out..."

"That was a rhetorical question. You're not busy. You're coming with me."

There was barely any time for Stephen to put his files back in storage. Tony sideswiped Stephen's questions as they both walked to his car. As soon as they got in, Tony whipped out his proprietary Stark Tech smartphone and focused on it, ignoring Stephen's indignant protests and inquiries.

The car stopped just outside an airstrip. A bewildered Stephen found himself following Tony into a private jet with "Stark Industries" emblazoned on its side.

And very soon after that, he was in a plush leatherette seat that could lean all the way back and having in-flight dinner with Tony.

"Been a while since our last date, right? Sorry, I've had my hands full." He gestured to the meal in front of them. "Hope this makes up for it."

"I'd say this is even overkill," Stephen told him. "The kidnapping was a bit much."

Tony pretended to look hurt. "Kidnapping? Come on, why so dramatic. I was just tired of our usual places and wanted to shake things up a little."

"This isn't just 'a little.' You won't even tell me where we're going."

"I'll let you work it out. This flight is estimated to take four hours and thirty minutes. If we're never leaving US airspace, where do you think we'll end up?"

Stephen frowned. As someone who'd had to fly out to other hospitals in other states for emergency procedures and high-paying patients, he was no stranger to long-distance travel. He could do the math in his head.

"California?"

Tony made a sound of affirmation around a mouthful of filet mignon.

"What's in California, Tony?"

"My house," was the nonchalant answer. "But we can talk about that later. Let's make this a proper dinner, like the ones we have on land. Tell me about your day. Mine was a whopper. Post-DC stuff, as I'm sure you know."

Stephen was, frankly, fed up with asking questions that were clearly never getting answered, so he decided to go with the flow. And dinner with Tony was always a welcome break from everything else, after all.

***

Stephen had expected the Stark residence in Malibu to be grandiose, but he wasn't fully prepared for the level of ostentation that greeted his eyes.

Late at night, the Stark mansion looked like a massive modern sculpture, with tasteful lighting accentuating its futuristic angles and curves. The interior reflected that sleek vibe, with its suede walls, minimalist furniture, ceiling-to-floor windows and wide spaces.

His first coherent thought was Whoa. The next was How can anyone sleep in a place like this?

It was too roomy. Too open. Too isolated. It lacked warmth - something he had grown to appreciate in his cozy one-bedroom in Queens.

"You're not tired yet, are you?" Tony asked him. "If you are, I should show you to your room and we can talk tomorrow."

"My room?"

"There are two master suites," Tony continued. "I just kind of move between one and the other when I feel like it. Take your pick. I'll stick to the one you don't choose."

"I'm not tired," Stephen answered testily. "I'd like to know what I'm doing here."

He had run out of patience. And finally, that became obvious to Tony. He shot Stephen an apologetic look.

"All right," Tony said. "Come with me."

***

He was led to the basement levels, where Tony kept his toys. The first level was the design floor. The two lower ones were called "the garage" and were off limits.

Stephen paid close attention while Tony was talking. He seemed nervous, wired. Like he was gearing up to tell Stephen something he definitely wouldn't like.

From introducing the functions of the design panels, he moved to teaching Stephen how to activate the holographic design tools. As fascinating as it was, Stephen had to speak up.

"Tony...either you tell me what's really going on, or I walk out of here."

Tony fell still.

After a long pause, he faced Stephen with renewed enthusiasm.

"You'll be moving your research here, temporarily," he declared. "I've made backups of all your files from the Midtown lab and configured some of the machines here to give you biometric access. Needless to say, you'll be moving residence, as well. My aide Happy Hogan can help you make the necessary arrangements. You can fly back to New York if any of your patients there will need emergency surgery. All flights courtesy of Stark Industries, of course, just send us the bill."

"Are you insane?" Stephen hoped it wasn't obvious, but he was fighting hard to keep calm.

"It's just temporary!" Tony argued.

"No." Stephen kept his voice level. "You know I can't do that."

"I don't see that you have a choice." Tony folded his arms across his chest. "I'm your investor. I'm pulling rank."

"Pull rank all you want. My contract states that I don't have to do anything I don't want to do. You can't just uproot me on a whim."

"What if it's for your own safety?"

Stephen scowled.

"What are you talking about?"

As upset as Stephen was getting over this conversation, he could see Tony was even more stressed out than he was. Tony scratched his head in annoyance and paced the design room, as he pieced together his response.

Eventually he settled for the simplest possible words: "You were on Project Insight's target list."

"So what?"

" 'So what?' " Tony echoed, incredulous. "Don't tell me that didn't scare you, even a little."

"Sure, a little," Stephen admitted. "But the situation was resolved within a few hours after S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Hydra connection was made public. No more Triskelion. No more Project Insight. And right now, it seems there's barely even a S.H.I.E.L.D. So I don't see why I should stay scared."

Tony looked at him wide-eyed, as if he couldn't believe Stephen could be so dim.

"Hydra scattered to the winds after S.H.I.E.L.D. crumbled," he replied, in a lower, grimmer tone. "They're still out there. And you can bet that the ones who could, ran off with resources they got from the government, including that damn list."

"But targeting people one by one for assassination, without the use of WMDs like the helicarriers? Even people who aren't active threats? That hardly seems like Hydra M.O."

Tony took a deep breath, another long pause.

"I wasn't going to tell you this," he began again, arms still folded across his chest protectively. "But in one of the carriers, there was a Hydra agent called the Winter Soldier. Cap was going to destroy the carriers, but the guy'd shot him in the stomach and was still coming after him. So I covered Cap's ass and attacked the guy. Cap did his thing and blew up the carriers, then he said, 'Go help civilians, Tony, I got this.' So I did, and he went back to fighting the guy hand to hand.

"Long story short, the guy landed Cap in the hospital. Cap's new buddy Falcon said...well, he said Cap knew the guy. He was in the leaked S.H.I.E.L.D. files as a mostly off-the-books asset. They said the Winter Soldier was used for a variety of vague spy missions, including single-target assassinations. And he...didn't die when his ship exploded. He got away."

When Stephen was done processing this new information, he demanded, "You weren't going to tell me that why?"

"I didn't want to freak you out with specifics. I thought I could just show you how concerned I was, and you'd take that in stride and do what I say."

Stephen narrowed his eyes at him. "Following instructions isn't my forte. You knew that from the beginning."

Tony looked away from him. "I know, but seriously - if everyone just listened to me, the world would be a much safer place."

It felt like Tony was withdrawing into himself the longer their argument drew on. Stephen decided to do something about that.

He laid a hand on Tony's arm. Tony stiffened for a second, but let out a breath, some of his tension easing out that way.

"Tony," Stephen began in a soft, reassuring tone, "he won't come after me. I'm not a threat. I'm just a doctor. And I can take care of myself." He withdrew his hand from Tony's arm, and Tony's entire body shifted slightly, as if adjusting to its absence.

Stephen continued, "In Kathmandu, I was trained in...certain disciplines. Including martial arts. My teacher considered elevating the body to be essential to elevating the mind. And my training worked out: I got my hands back. I also learned how to kick ass."

"Yeah, but you didn't see this guy, Stephen." Tony's tone this time was pleading. "I had a hard time with him - and I had guns and could fly. All he had was his metal arm. He might have been on par with Cap, strength-wise - and do you seriously think your lameass kung fu could win you a fight with Captain America?"

"You sound ignorant, don't call it kung fu." Stephen reprimanded. "And maybe not, but I can at least give him a hard time."

Tony shut his eyes and clasped his hands in front of him as if in prayer.

"You're missing. The point." He sounded aggravated again. "You can't ever be in a position where you'll have to engage the Winter Soldier. I can't risk even the slightest chance that he'll come after you. I can't -"

He caught himself, clammed up fast.

Stephen gently prodded, "Can't what?"

Tony didn't answer.

"Tony."

"You're really gonna make me say it." He didn't sound angry. He sounded defeated.

Stephen almost felt sorry for him. But this was a time for answers, and he couldn't let up; the best he could do was to sound non-aggressive.

"If you want me to stay, you have to."

It wasn't an idle threat, either. Tony must have known that. He must have imagined Stephen storming out of the mansion in the dead of night and hitching a ride to get to some godforsaken motel...but Stephen actually had something more efficient in mind. He always carried around his sling ring. If worse came to worse, he could go anywhere.

Either way, Tony wasn't ready for him to leave.

"I can't let anything happen to you," he admitted, not looking Stephen in the eye. "Maybe I can't protect you if aliens come dropping out of the sky again - not right now anyway. But this, this human problem, this is doable. All I have to do is keep you away from danger."

"And you think by keeping me close, you're keeping me safe?" Stephen allowed himself a small, sad smile. "Have you seen danger and how much it loves you?"

"Yeah, okay, the safest thing to do is actually to cut off all ties with me. But the next best thing" - Tony looked at him again - "is to never leave my side."

There was no room for argument in his eyes. It was one or the other.

But to Stephen, leaving Tony was never an option.

He stepped closer to Tony. Tony let him approach. He reached out and laid his palm gently against Tony's cheek.

Stephen was well-trained in recognizing the presence of pain. And with this one gesture, it seemed he released the pain that Tony had been keeping to himself. Helped it reach his face, finally.

Tony closed his eyes and leaned into his touch.

"I wish you knew," he whispered, "how I felt when I saw your name on that list. I wish you knew."

"Hush."

He touched his lips to Tony's, and found no resistance. In fact, Tony's lips sought his out hungrily - which was good, because it was important that the patient was receptive to treatment.

The priority was to take the pain away.

***

Stephen bet neither of them expected that their first time was going to be on the floor of the design room of Tony Stark's personal workshop. But neither of them could wait.

Besides, there were two master suites to choose from, for the next rounds.

It was intense, breathless, electric - all things that Stephen had not anticipated. He wasn't sure why, but he hadn't expected that their easy rapport would translate well into sex. Perhaps it was because they were such different people. But when all bets were off, it was as if they knew each other's bodies well.

One of the books in the Kamar-Taj library explored the concept of soulmates - people shaped from the same astral mold, who were drawn together and instantly connected as soon as they touched. Sometimes, those people were the same in many ways - and sometimes they were completely different.

Stephen always thought it was a load of irrational, inconsistent dreck and was glad he didn't find other titles that spewed the same. But tonight, he found himself thinking back to that book. And wondering if he shouldn't have dismissed it so easily.

He woke slowly close to dawn, to the feeling of an arm draped over his chest. And drifted further out of sleep to realize that because of this he was warm, perhaps the warmest he had ever been in his life. In a house that he had earlier written off as isolated and cold.

He lay awake, listening to Tony's relaxed, steady breathing. Memorizing the feeling of Tony's bare skin against his.

And the feeling of being absolutely safe. The feeling that everything that had led up to now was worth it.

"There were deeper secrets to learn then," a man named Jonathan Pangborn had told him,"but I did not have the strength to receive them. I chose to settle for my miracle, and I came back home."

This was it. This was the miracle Stephen had come home for. Not the recovery of his hands. Not the return to a life of prestige, and all the evils that came with it.

It was this. This moment. This man.

***

When he woke for a second time, he was alone. It was seven o’clock. And the house felt cold again.

There were new clothes laid out for him at the foot of the bed. They were his size exactly. Once more, he decided against overthinking how Tony could have known the size of his clothing. Tony had resources to know more things about other people, than perhaps he should.

In fact, Stephen wouldn’t be surprised if Tony had already bought a bunch of clothes in his size, in anticipation of him moving into the mansion, as requested. He dearly hoped this wasn’t the case, however. He took a shower in the en suite bathroom. As he was putting on the new clothes, he noted that his phone, old clothes, and other personal items had been neatly put together in a corner. That was how he knew someone else was or had been in the house: Tony just didn't strike him as someone who bothered to fold apparel - his own or other people's. He lacked the patience for such mundane things.

Tony must have overseen it, though. At the very top of the pile of personal items was Stephen's sling ring. There was a hastily scrawled note pinned underneath it, which impertinently said "What even IS this??"

He heard Tony’s voice in his head, saying those words. Right after that, he remembered Tony’s brown eyes shining bright with arousal. Tony’s moans coming in faster and louder as he approached climax.

Stephen forcibly brushed the more provocative memories aside, smiled, tucked the note into his pocket along with the ring, and made a mental note to come up with some bullshit story about it being a sentimental souvenir from Kathmandu. He stepped out of the room, and was greeted by a beautiful woman in sharp business wear. Her ginger hair was done up in a youthful ponytail. "Dr. Strange." The woman had a polished, professional smile. "My name is Pepper Potts. Mr. Stark has instructed me to attend to your requests today. Anything you need." The famous Ms. Potts. Tony mentioned her often. He once told Stephen, with naked admiration, that Stark Industries would grind to a halt without her.

She did indeed look competent. And no-nonsense. Stephen marveled at how expertly she balanced forthrightness and a gentle demeanor.

What was more, her face reflected absolutely no judgment. If she considered Stephen a nuisance, or a potential PR nightmare for Stark Industries, she didn’t show it. From where Stephen stood, all she was, was kind.

“Oh...Mr. Stark apologizes, but he has urgent matters to attend to in DC and won’t be able to join you for breakfast. Which, by the way, is waiting for you in the dining room.” She turned to leave. “If you’ll follow me?”

“Ms. Potts.”

She stopped, turned to look at Stephen again.

“Does Tony - Mr. Stark - does he expect me not to leave?”

In short: was he a prisoner? Was he going to have to use his wits to escape, and give Tony hell for it later?

He gambled that he would get an honest answer from someone whom Tony trusted with his life and more.

Ms. Potts’ smile lacked all malice.

“No, Doctor,” she replied. “A private jet is ready and waiting to take you back to New York, at your earliest convenience.” Stephen let out a relieved sigh. He didn’t want to have to portal out of there. That would have been...messy.

“Thank you.” His gratitude was genuine.

“However, Mr. Stark wanted me to tell you that he wishes you would stay. He said you’d know why.”

Stephen recalled Tony in the design room, the torment on his face. I wish you knew.

“Please let Mr. Stark know that I appreciate the invitation,” he said to her, “but I have patients waiting to see me this afternoon. The sooner I’m back in New York, the better.”

She nodded. “Very good. But breakfast first, I hope?”

[perfectlyrose]

a cup of sugar, a pinch of magic (4/?)

Summary: It’s just another night spent baking instead of sleeping for John Smith, owner of The Blue Box Bakery, when a mysterious blonde woman knocks on the bakery door hours before opening time. He never expected that letting her in would draw him into a world of magic and shadow organizations or be the start of a life-changing love.

Pairing: Nine x Rose ||  Word Count: 2293 || Rating: All Ages (for now)

Note: tagging @doctorroseprompts since this was originally for fantasy month :)

AO3 || TSP || tumblr

John spotted Donna the moment he walked into the café, her red hair catching the light in the small space.

“About time you got here,” she said as he took his seat and set the bakery box in the seat next to him.

“Route took longer to walk than I expected,” he answered with a shrug. “It’s good to see you, Donna. You’re looking well.”

She scoffed. “I’m looking overworked, which I am.”

“Sorry for adding to it.”

Donna opened her mouth to chide him but was cut off by the waitress approaching their table to take their drink orders. They quickly ordered coffees and waited for her to get far enough away from the table to resume their conversation.

“I’m never to busy to help a friend,” Donna said, tone brooking no argument. “And you’ve landed neck-deep in trouble and need all the help you can get.”

“I’m well aware.”

“Are you really? What do you know about Torchwood?”

“Mostly what I put in that email. The human testing on people with abilities bit of their operation. From what I heard, they’re loosely associated with the government but not an official government agency.”

“That’s right. I would have already greenlit an op to get rid of them if they weren’t unofficially sanctioned,” she said, making a face. “Always seemed skeezy to me. I didn’t actually know about the human testing until you asked about it, but the file on Torchwood has information about on that part of their operation.”

They paused as the waitress set their coffees on the table and took their dinner orders.

Donna gave him an assessing look once the girl was out of earshot again. “Word is that Torchwood is on high alert and that they were in your neighborhood looking for someone last night. Know anything about that?”

“Might’ve traded words with them,” John answered. “They knocked on the door of my shop.”

Donna sighed. “I can help you better if I have all the information. You know this.”

“It’s not my call to make,” he said. “You know I trust you with my life.”

“But not with whoever you’re protecting.”

“I do, but they don’t know you,” John explained. “Have good reason to be mistrustful, if you ask me.”

“If Torchwood had them, I can understand that.”

“What else is Torchwood into? I didn’t want to do my own research in case they tried to monitor my computer.”

Donna snorted. “I could barely monitor your computer when I was supposed to. I doubt Torchwood is worried about you enough to break through your excessive layers of encryption.”

“Not excessive if it works.”

She waved away the familiar argument. “The most public aspect of Torchwood is their weapons development program. They work on specialized weapons for the military and the intelligence service.”

“Which is why they can run their other even less savory programs without being touched,” John growled.

“Pretty much. Now, I looked into the human testing that you asked about. It seems they’re scooping up people with untested abilities and claiming that they are test subjects, not humans.”

“Lines up with what I’ve been told.”

“It seems like the government knows but they’re not doing anything about it because no one has kicked up a fuss about it and they think they’ll get some sort of military advantage out of the whole mess.”

“This kind of thing is why I got out of the game,” John said.

“I would’ve been right behind you if I thought I could leave without everything turning even more hellish,” Donna replied. “As it is, I can try to undermine the really terrible things from inside.”

The waitress came back with their sandwiches and they both tucked in.

“Where is the facility where they do the human testing?” John asked after swallowing a bite.

“You did hear me say that they’re on high alert, right?”

He nodded.

Donna rolled her eyes. “You probably just think the added complication is fun,” she muttered.

“I’d wait for their security to calm back down but I’m not leaving those people in there to be tortured for any longer than necessary.” He had a feeling that Rose’s friends who had been recaptured wouldn’t be kept around for much longer. They needed to get in there before it was too late.

She slid a USB drive across the table. “This is the whole file on Torchwood. I figured you would want to have everything. Their location and basic security measures are in there. If you can tell me when you are planning on hitting them, I can try to draw some of the extra bodies to one of their other facilities. I’m good at manufacturing emergencies.”

He pocketed the USB.

“I want to go tomorrow night but I have to talk to my partner,” he said. He thought Rose would be ready to go after her friends as soon as he came back with the information.

“Please tell me you’re not going to take them on with just yourself and whoever you’re harboring that these people are looking for.”

“I won’t tell you, then.”

“You’re going to give me an aneurysm one of these days, Spaceman,” she said, rubbing her temples. “I’ll see what I can do to get you some cover.”

John leaned forward. “I’m taking them down, Donna. This isn’t just a rescue mission. I can’t let them keep doing this to people.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that? I can barely touch them and I’m me.”

“I don’t have to work within the system anymore. I’m going to get those people out and then I’m going to get their story out. I want Torchwood destroyed.”

Donna pressed her lips together. “If I can scrape together more info on other Torchwood scandals that have been swept under the rug, that could help discredit them.”

“You said they’re still operating because they’re still in the shadows,” he said. “Let’s drag them into the light. Then the public can eat them alive and you can get them shut down from the inside.”

A half-smile formed on Donna’s lips. “I have missed the way you put a plan together when you bother with one. I’ll start leaving hints for reporters to find tonight. That way they’re already on the scent when you start dropping bombs.”

“Fantastic.”

Donna pulled out her wallet and left a couple twenty pound notes on the table. “Keep me updated when you can,” she told him. “And next time don’t wait until there’s an emergency to call me.”

He smiled at her. “I won’t. When this is done, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

Her smile softened as she read the traces of affection on John’s face and in his voice. Whoever he’d rescued this time was already important to him. “I look forward to it. Now, give me the pastries I know you brought.”

John chuckled and handed over the blue box. “Don’t let them get stale.”

“They may not make it through the night,” she said. “Definitely won’t make it to stale.”

“Good.”

“See ya later, then,” Donna said, standing up. She squeezed John’s shoulder on her way past him. “Good luck.”

“You too.”

He stayed long enough to order some food for Rose and then left with the to-go bag hanging from his forearm.

John took a different route back to his flat, doubling back frequently to make sure he wasn’t being followed. His knife was ready to slip into his hand but it was just his heightened paranoia that made his palm itch for its familiar weight. There were no signs he was being followed.

He slipped inside the bakery and secured his knives to the underside of the table once more before locking up. He took the steps two at a time and knocked on the door to his flat.

“It’s me,” he called out. “I’m back and I have food.”

He heard Rose on the other side of the door followed by the click of disengaging locks and then the slide of the chain.

“You weren’t gone that long,” she said as she opened the door.

He stepped inside and waited for her to re-engage the locks before handing her the bag of food. “Wasn’t sure what you would want so I got a couple of things.”

“Thanks, John. I’m starving again.”

“It wasn’t a full debrief which would’ve taken longer. Donna gave me the information to look over myself,” he explained, patting the pocket with the USB drive. “She’s going to help us as much as she can from inside the government system. Can’t do much for the rescue mission but she can help us burn Torchwood to the ground.”

Rose grinned from where she’d taken a seat on the sofa. “Brilliant. I like the sound of that.”

John grabbed his laptop and took it to the couch. He plugged in the USB and started working his way through the security Donna had put on it. “If you’re up for it, I think we should hit them tomorrow night,” he said as he worked.

Rose nodded, her mouth full of food. “I’m ready.”

She took another bite and then reached for a piece of paper on the coffee table. “I drew a map of the containment unit where I was kept. I don’t know where in the building it is or even where the building is, but I saw the majority of the unit and know the security in there.”

“Fantastic,” he said, taking the paper and studying it. He noted her detailing of security measures against intruders and the prisoners. “Do you think they have security against magic in the whole building or just the containment unit?”

“I think it’s just the containment unit, but I don’t know that for sure. Is the map helpful?”

“Very. I should have the building location and maybe basic blueprints somewhere in this file but firsthand knowledge is always better. Plus, this is remarkably detailed.”

“Spent fourteen months memorizing it,” she said with a quirk of her lips. She turned back to her food, leaving John to shift focus back to his laptop.

He sifted through the information until he found the file on the facility that housed the magic testing program. He pulled up the blueprints and the security schematics and started committing them to memory.

John startled when Rose rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you jump. Just wanted to see what you were so intent on,” she said.

“Trying to memorize the layout and where the security is likely to be,” he explained. “Want to know all the exits so we can make a fast exit if we need to.”

“Is there only the one containment unit?”

“Looks like it. And look,” he pointed to a large blank space on the schematics, “I think this is where the containment unit is located. They didn’t give details on it, so your map will be instrumental.”

They worked together to plot a route into the building and to the containment unit, coming up with potential solutions to security measures using a combination of John’s military knowledge and Rose’s magic.

Two hours later, they had a tentative plan in place and Rose was yawning again. John was feeling rather knackered as well, not having managed to get any sleep since Rose showed up at his door.

She rested her head on his shoulder from where she was sat next to him on the sofa. “I’m worried about Bill and Amy,” she said, words falling heavy in the quiet.

“We’ll get them out,” he promised. “They’ll be okay, Rose.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t. But you don’t know that they won’t be, either.”

She took a deep breath. “I keep imagining what they’re doing to them as punishment for escaping.”

John shifted to put his arm around her shoulders. “We’re going to get to them as soon as we can,” he said. “Worrying is inevitable but it also doesn’t do them any good.”

“I know. Just can’t help it.”

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t worried about them.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Why don’t you get some sleep so you’re ready for tomorrow. Going to be a long day.”

“Are you going to sleep too? I can take the couch,” Rose said. She turned her head into his shoulder, nuzzling closer as she edged closer to exhaustion.

“I’ll take the couch. I’ve slept here plenty,” he said.

“Actually sleep this time. You need rest before tomorrow, too.”

“I will, Rose. I think the shop will only be open for a couple of hours tomorrow. Didn’t get back down there to get doughs started for tomorrow.”

“Sleep’s more important,” she said.

John chuckled, soft and low. “Tonight, I agree with you.”

“Good. Goodnight, then, John.” She pushed to her feet and squeezed his shoulder before walking towards the bedroom.

“Goodnight, Rose.”

As soon as the bedroom door closed, John set aside his laptop with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes, trying to push down the urge to go down and make some dough just to work out his stress. He knew if he did, he wouldn’t get any sleep and he desperately needed some sleep before tomorrow’s mission.

Yawning, he stood and collected some blankets from the closet. He turned off the lights and settled onto the sofa, ready to finally steal a bit of rest.

For the next couple of hours, his dreams were haunted by the thought of what Torchwood was doing to their prisoners.

Rose was in all of them.

By four AM he was down in his bakery working some dough by hand as he tried to chase away the images his brain had conjured.