#Goto Assignment Help

[iniquitousyearning]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Two. Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Thèos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Oral Sex (M Rec), Throat Fucking, Toxic Behaviour, Blackmail, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, DubCon, CNC.

****Find the rest of the chapters HERE.

"You're fifteen minutes late."

Mattheo rolled his eyes, slumping down in the creaky wooden chair with an exasperated huff, running his tongue over the split-open cut on his lip as he fiddled with the gauze wrapped around his battered knuckles--the fresh blood seeping through the material told you that he had ever-so-shockingly taken part in yet another degenerate fight, this time coincidentally directly before your once-a-week tutor session.

"I'm fine, by the way." He said, not bothering to look at you. "Thanks for asking."

"Why should I?" You tilted your head, already feeling the heat of his suffocating arrogance filling your lungs. "It's not like you've ever cared about my well-being, or as you've so clearly proven today; my time."

Riddle scoffed, rolling his eyes yet again as he ran a hand through his hair. "You sound entitled, princess."

"I sound entitled?" Gods, he was doing it again. He was absolutely getting you fucking going with little to no effort spent. "My dearest apologies, Riddle...I was under the impression that entitlement was believing you can treat people however you like without consequences...silly me."

At your retort, he glimpsed you, pausing all his movements as a sly grin crawled across his face.

"Giving me attitude already, Raven?" He purred, dark eyes slithering down to your lips, before falling lower to your chest, lingering there for far-too-long before they slowly travelled back up to meet your sight.

Throughout all of that, you weren't sure if you'd blinked once--your pulse increasing to a rate so fast you were certain your heart was about to burst from your chest.

Mattheo moistened his lips, his tongue darting out to remove the blood from the split in his lower one.

"...I'd have thought that after our little agreement last week, you'd have come to your senses..."

He leaned forward in his chair, long fingers curling in on his palms and forming tight fists as he rested his hands on top of the desk--eyes darker than the midnight sky as he studied your tensing reaction.

"Would you like to start over? Or perhaps, that filthy fucking mouth of yours needs to be taught a lesson?"

You swallowed, something in your lower abdomen tingling at this words. You shook your head, dropping your eyes to your lap. "I'm sorry."

His eyes lit up. "What was that?" The sadistic arrogance in his tone made you want to scream. "I didn't quite catch what you said."

Your jaw clenched, teeth gritting--Gods, how you wanted to tell him to goto hell; to kick rocks and get the fuck out and never come near you again--but you knew you would never, and could never do such a thing. Instead, you inhaled a sharp breath in through your nose, before slowly releasing it, shooting him the best fake smile you could possibly muster.

"I said, I'm sorry." Your voice was tight, tone as sharp as glass. "Now, can we begin? You're already-"

"No." He said flatly, cutting you off. "I don't accept your apology. I think you need to get on your knees-"

Your jaw dropped at his words, and you involuntarily slammed your hands down on the wooden surface in front of you as you stood up, leaning across the desk towards him. After all these months of sticking your neck out for him, going out of your way to tutor him and attempt to teach him some form of educational material to at least help him fucking graduate on time--he's really going to sit there and degrade you like a piece of shit under his shoe just because you retaliated against his arrogant attitude?

Not going to fucking happen.

"Cut the shit, Riddle." You hissed, leaning down to meet his dark, intoxicating eyes. "You may be in charge here, and I may need you in ways that are entirely taxing to my mental state...but just as much as I need you--you need me, too...so how about you show me some fucking respect?"

At your words, Mattheo's confident facade wavered, only-slightly, his dark eyes widening with surprise as your words pierced through his stoic composure. Blinking, he considered your defiance for a fleeting moment before abruptly standing up, as well--his face, which was usually a mask of calculated control, portrayed a mix of curiosity and smug arrogance.

As he rounded the desk and approached you, his eyes locked onto yours; unyielding and intense--making your entire body freeze in place. The room seemed to hold its breath, the charged silence amplifying the tension between your bodies, as if the very air crackled with anticipation of what would unfold next, your shoulders slouching as he stopped in front of you, tall frame towering over you.

And then, his perfect fucking lips curled into a sly smile.

"Respect? Oh, I respect your desperation, Raven...that's about it..." his voice was slow, calculated, and of course; sadistic. "It would do you well to remember that in this little alliance of ours, I hold the key to your entire fucking future...so, perhaps a little lesson in humility is what you truly need, hm?"

He brought a battered hand up to your face, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his head tilting as his dark eyes studied the movement of his fingers.

"How about you show me just how much you respect me...and maybe, just maybe, I'll consider playing nice, yeah?" He paused, his fingers lingering against your skin. "Until then...it seems as though you're at my mercy, little girl."

Your fingers quivered at your sides, your heart pounding in your throat, but you were resolute in not allowing him to win so easily. Despite his immense power over you, giving in without a fight wasn't an option you were willing to entertain. It was times like these where your brash, unyielding nature was both a curse and a source of strength, propelling you toward your demise.

"Not if I goto Dumbledore first..." you whispered, glimpsing his lips. "Not if I tell him that you were entirely uncooperative...defiant...wouldn't be that hard to believe, considering your troublesome track record..."

He huffed, fingers trailing from behind your ear and running along your jawline, his lips parting as he stared, lost entirely in his own little world--until he blinked, meeting your eyes.

"And how would that look on you, Raven? As a future Professor..." he murmured, leaning closer. "Don't you think it would look rather...perturbing, that you weren't able to get me under control? That you weren't able to find some sort of compromise to ensure my cooperation?"

His rugged fingers trailed along the contour of your jaw, finding a firm hold at your chin and sliding underneath it, his thumb caressing your cheek with a touch that held both tenderness and threat. A lump formed in your throat, your lips parting in sheer exasperation as his eyes darkened, their intensity sending shivers down your spine. Your entire body quivered under his grasp as he leaned in, his lips barely grazing your temple.

"You're shaking, Raven..." he purred, hot breath washing over your face as he used his grip on your chin to tug you closer. "Why so nervous, hm? What happened to all that fire you had?"

Your voice faltered, barely a whisper, as you tried to find words under the weight of Mattheo's power.

"I...I'm just..."

You hesitated, unable to meet his intense gaze, your words trailing off into a nervous silence. The sheer dominance he exuded left you speechless, your heart racing, and you struggled to articulate your thoughts, feeling completely overwhelmed and out of your depth.

Mattheo's lips curled into a subtle, self-assured smile as he sensed your growing vulnerability. His eyes, dark and smoldering, held a predatory gleam, and he leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, his breath grazing your skin as he revelled in the palpable effect he had on you.

"This vulnerability...it suits you, I must admit..." his voice was a low, seductive murmur, pulling back to meet your eyes. "Don't worry, little Raven...I won't bite...unless you ask me to, of course..."

With an amused huff, he shifted, his lips brushing over your ear, and you pulled your lip between your teeth to restrain a whimper as you felt his free hand move, long fingers ghosting over the fabric of your skirt as he grazed your hip.

"Mattheo, I-" your body reacted in a way you hadn't anticipated, utterly frozen under Mattheo's commanding presence. Desire coursed through your veins, a mixture of fear and a thrilling, unfamiliar attraction, and you struggled to string together a sentence. "I've never-"

"Never what, princess?" He purred, voice reverberating as a deep hum, the seductive pitch doing inexplicable things to your body. "Don't be shy..."

As his grip on your hip tightened, your lungs stalled, a small gasp slipping past your lips; and as though you'd somehow snapped Mattheo out of a hypnotic trance, he pulled back--his widened obsidian eyes meeting yours.

"Holy fuck, Raven, are you a fucking virgin?" His voice was barely above a whisper, the husk of it sparking fire through your veins. "You haven't even kissed someone, have you?"

Embarrassment flooded you, a heat hot enough to melt the Arctic. When you nodded, almost impenetrably; his stare intensified, the excitement practically radiating from his flesh.

"Shit...I'm going to fucking ruin you..." Mattheo's fingers tightened around your jaw, once again tugging you closer--your heart stalled as he crouched down slightly, bringing himself eye-to-eye with you, his face mere centimeters from yours. "That's what you want though, isn't it? I see the way you look at me...I feel the way your body responds to me...even when you fucking despise me..."

Mules of power coursed through Mattheo's fingers as his hand left your hip, snaking around your waist as his eyes scanned your features--watching every single ministration of your face as though he was afraid you'd disappear; as though he'd miss something if he blinked.

"You want this," he whispered, his breath hot against your face. "You've been aching for it ever since we first met...admit it."

Your adrenaline surged. You knew you were playing with fire here, but you couldn't control yourself.

"Don't flatter yourself, Riddle..." you murmured, voice unsteady. "Unlike you I actually harbour a modicum of self control."

Upon your utterance, Mattheo's entire demeanor shifted abruptly--something dark and unsettling creeping behind his eyes. His grip tightened aggressively, applying force with enough intensity to leave bruises.

"There's that mouth again." He growled, his tone dark and rough. "You just can't fucking help yourself, can you?"

You snuffed a gasp as his fingernails dug into your skin, the intensity radiating off his flesh.

"You think you're so fucking smart, hm? Little good girl, top of the class, never stepping out of the lines..." he tilted his head, leaning closer, mouth so close to yours you could practically taste the blood seeping from the cut on his lip. "I'm going to have so much fucking fun with you, Raven...we'll see just how smart you are when you’re on your fucking knees for me like a dumb little whore..."

Your breath was hardly filtering, lungs sputtering. "Mattheo-"

He shifted your body, shoving your ass back against the desk as he pressed himself against you, one hand behind your neck with the other tightly gripping your hip; eyes drunk on a dark hunger--one that intoxicated you without effort.

"That's what I want, Raven...I want you on your knees for me every single week...and in exchange, I'll pay attention to your dumb lessons and make sure I pass...the second I fail to do just that, it all stops, okay?" His voice was tight, focused, but serious--as serious as you've ever fucking heard him. "I won't tell a fucking soul about any of this, and I know you won't either...both of our reputations depend on it..."

Gods, you fucking loved this, even though admitting it felt like peeling away layers of denial--but deep down, you knew the truth, even though it clashed with your feelings of utter disgust and irritation towards Mattheo Riddle. Something about the images swirling inside your mind as you thought about it, thought about the mere prospect of having him at your mercy, his pleasure intertwined with your control, stirred a complex mix of emotions within you.

It was as if a forbidden fascination had taken root, coaxing an unexpected excitement from the depths of your being. If surrendering to this unconventional desire meant he would finally invest effort in your tutor sessions, you found yourself reluctantly willing to explore this uncharted territory.

But not before teasing him a little.

"Don't you have enough girls on their knees for you, Riddle?" You whispered, fingers clutching the desk for dear life. "Do you really need that from me?"

He huffed, amused. "Sure, but those girls expect something from me in return...with you, it'll be all about me and what I fucking want..." he purred, wetting his lips as he glimpsed yours. "I have no interest in taking your virginity, Raven...you can save that for your wedding night, or whatever the fuck it is you're waiting for...I just want those pretty fucking lips...I just want to finally put that annoying mouth of yours to good use..."

Your entire body was vibrating, every word from his mouth did something foreign to you lower abdomen--something you'd never felt nor experienced before. There were so many emotions pummelling through your veins right now; from desire to irritation to defiance to submission--every one melding inside your mind and rendering your mouth utterly mute. You had no idea what to fucking say.

Until Riddle leaned in, closer, his lips brushing over yours. "Do we have a deal?"

You swallowed, your sight flickering from his lips to his eyes and back to his lips, examining all the small cuts and bruises and scars he had peppering his skin. When you nodded, he tightened the grip on the back of your neck, forcing a squeal from deep in your throat.

"Words, Raven," he said sharply. "Use them. I want to hear you say it."

You weren't breathing, you wondered how the fuck you were even conscious. "Yes," you whispered. "We have a deal."

Mattheo exhaled. "Fuck..."

In the span of a single breath, his lips found yours, soft and yielding--conveying a desperate, yet gentle craving. You became a candle, his touch a flame, liquefying you from the core, heat spreading through your every fiber, reaching down to your very toes. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, immersing you in a passionate embrace that seemed to defy time itself.

Your mind spun in a whirlwind of realization: this was your first kiss, an intimate moment shared with a boy you openly despised. His lips bore the remnants of alcohol and cigarettes, a taste accentuated by the faint hint of blood. He desired you for a singular purpose, and you saw him merely as a means to solidify your post-graduate fate. Despite the inherent wrongness of the situation, you couldn't summon the care to stop it, succumbing to the inexplicable pull between you two.

His low growl echoed in the charged air as his tongue danced with yours, emboldening you. Your fingers threaded through his thick, curly hair, exploring the contours of his mouth. Meanwhile, his hand roamed up your thigh, tracing your curves until it found the top of your uniform. With a firm grip, he pulled at the fabric, and then, shifted his hand to your wrist, directing it toward the insistent bulge in his pants.

As your fingers grazed it, something surged through you; something suffocating, something intoxicating--and involuntarily, you moaned into his mouth.

"Shit..." he breathed, grip on the back of your neck intensifying. "You feel that, Raven? That's all for you..."

Your breath was shaking, your lungs on fire. You had no idea what was happening to you, you had no idea what you were even thinking, let alone saying--a haze of pleasure and adrenaline and arousal was clouding your cognitive capacity, words spilling from your lips without thought as you squeezed the outline of his dick.

"You're so big..." your voice was a whisper, lesser even. "I-I don't think I'll-"

"You will," his voice cracked, cutting you off, already knowing what you were about to say.

With a smirk, he stepped back slightly, using the hand behind your head to gently guide you toward the floor, a silent yet compelling command. When you met his eyes, a clear nervousness in your expressions, he smirked.

"Don't worry Raven, I'll go easy on you for your first time..." he whispered. "Unlike you, I'm actually a patient teacher."

When you finally landed on your knees in front of him, his fervent fingers moved to his belt, swiftly undoing the latch and tugging his trousers mid-way down his thighs. His eyes never once left yours, his bottom lip pulled tightly between his teeth as he moved to his boxers next; finally freeing his thick, throbbing length, the veins in his hand tensing as he wrapped his fist around its girth, his mouth falling open in relief.

Your stomach twisted, your entire body fucking screaming at the sight. "Holy fu-"

Your words were cut short as his hand thrust through your hair, fingers entangling through your soft strands, cranking your neck back slightly to meet his eyes again, slowly fucking into his fist as he watched you; examined you.

"What would your friends think of this, huh?" His voice was hoarse, arrogant, and of course, sadistic, like always. "Little good girl Ravenclaw on her knees for the big bad Slytherin fuck up...it's almost poetic, isn't it?"

Your fingers trembled, and you clutched the fabric of your skirt for dear life. "Are you going to let me suck it or are you going to hold me here all day instead?"

"Eager little thing you are," he huffed, smirking; jaw tensing and throat bobbing as he swallowed. "Drop your jaw, princess."

As you did what he said, he hummed in satisfaction, directing the head of his throbbing cock past your lips, hissing through his teeth as the wet warmth of your mouth enveloped his shaft, involuntarily gagging as he continued to push into throat until your hands shot up to his thighs, silently pleading for a mere second to adjust to his size.

"Use your hands then, Raven..." his voice was a breathless whisper, fingers tightening their hold on your hair. "Unless you want me to fuck that filthy throat of yours."

You glanced up at him, his appearance doing inexplicable things to your cunt, undeniably at this point--and you wrapped your hands around the base of his shaft, twisting and stroking as you moved your mouth against the remaining length--suctioning your lips around him, eyes watering and cunt clenching as he groaned, head falling back and lids fluttering shut.

"Mm...that's it..." he muttered, using your hair like reigns to direct your head. "Your mouth feels so fucking good when you're not using it to be an uptight little bitch..."

You hummed in assent, pressing your wet tongue against the throbbing underside of his cock. Your heart was beating out of your chest, thighs clamping in lust--even though he was being a sadistic asshole per usual, and there was not one part of this you should be enjoying--you couldn't deny the heat that was pooling between your legs, the unfamiliar desire that was growing in your lungs only intensified with every deep, breathless groan that left Mattheo's lips.

You dropped your hands, taking more of him now, slowly but surely, and you tried your best to ignore the pain that Riddle was inflicting on your scalp; his cock twitching more insistently between your lips with each passing second. Cranking your neck back, he slowly started fucking into your throat, groaning as he'd almost entirely pulled out, and you tightened your lips around his girth, wanting to trap him.

"So fucking good, Raven..." he huffed, and eased in again, holding your head in place, watching as his length disappeared into your mouth. "Are you sure this is your first time? Shit-"

His voice was heavy with pleasure, igniting a thunderstorm of arousal on your skin, growing more intense with each second his eyes were on you--his breathing grew heavier as your lips and tongue worked in unison, the sheer hunger in his gaze nearly palpable.

"Look at me," he muttered, cranking your neck back further, thrusting deeper. When you met his eyes, your thighs screamed in need. "Good girl...just like that..."

Mattheo's hips moved quicker, his groans of pleasure filling the room. Sparks were buzzing over your skin, air squeaking into your nose, tears welling in your eyes as he thrust into your throat again and again. His gaze was trained on you, his breath coming in shorter bursts the faster he moved.

"Fuck..." he sputtered, fingers bruising your scalp. "Far better use for that filthy mouth..."

You gagged, swallowing against him, and he yanked your head back further; entirely losing himself and any ounce of his self control in the heat of your throat as he neared his peak. You worked your tongue along the underside of his dick, pulling your lips in over your teeth, a quiet groan leaving him as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him.

"You look so good taking my cock..." he said. "You don't know how many times I've imagined doing this to you-fuck...every time you gave me attitude...shit..."

A moan rumbled through you, spurred on by his words, and his head fell back, breath sputtering in his lungs as he squeezed his eyes shut; fingernails digging into your scalp as he held you in place, hot jets of his release shooting down your throat without warning. You panted against his dick, swallowing every last drop of his cum without complaint, and when he finally released you--slowly tucking himself away, he stared at you with an astounded expression on his face, chest heaving.

As you wiped the drool off your chin with your sleeve, you slowly peeled yourself off the floor, meeting his intense eyes--which were still staring at you as he did up his belt.

"What?" You said, anxiously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He blinked, throat knocking as he swallowed. "I'm just trying to figure you the fuck out." He said. "You took my cock and swallowed my cum better than some of the sluttiest whores in this school have..."

Your face burned, entire body tingling as you readjusted your uniform. "Is that a bad thing?"

"Not at all, Raven." He huffed, throwing himself into the chair next to yours. "Think you just needed a bad boy like me to give you permission to finally let loose, yeah?"

"Permission?" You cocked an eyebrow, taking a seat next to him. "I'd think not, Riddle."

"Denial is a river in Egypt, princess." He sneered, that devilish smirk teasing his lips per usual. "You have no idea what you've just gotten yourself into. Better hope you don't get attached...I promise, I'm nothing but bad news..."

Your rolled your eyes, straightening out in the chair and flipping open the textbook to the appropriate chapter.

"Believe me, I won't."

——————

Chapter three->

[town-of-silent-poets]

People NEED Hobbies.

[Author's Note: ENGL 1120/COMP II Final Project, "Multimodal Argument", Final Submission.]

Okay, my title may sound fairly obvious, I know, but hear me out: I have proof! Though I could argue that every individual has experience with hobbies and their possitive effects on our lives, I won't pull that out of my hat of tricks. Instead, this proof I have is in the form of two peer-reviewed studies and a silly little book about weird hobbies. Let's get right into it.

First, in a study printed in The Journal of Experimental Education, Takayuki Goto of Osaka University studies the impact of utility-value intervention on student engagement. Students were assigned to write reflections about how the content learned in their classes is relevant and useful to their goals and daily lives outside of school. The study found that those who engaged in the utility-value intervention stayed engaged with their classes and coursework throughout the semester and turned in more assignments, while those without the intervention became less engaged and submitted less of their assignments.

Now, that is very cool and very smart. How many people go to school or a job and think: "What is this going to do for me besides a degree/money?" Besides the upkeep of daily basics needed to sustain life, what is the point of putting in so much effort? Losing sight of our goals and overall happiness can happen in these situations. Yet, knowing that external factors can give value to monotonous tasks and make them easier to complete feels enlightening. Heck, how many people started taking classes or going to a job because there was something they wanted? I, myself, do both, because there's something I want to do in life that college and a job will help me achieve. The work is hard and repetitive, but knowing that a goal, be it a future career or buying something for myself, can be obtained and maybe even bettered by my efforts makes it worth doing far more.

That's not all I found, either. I did say there were two studies.

In the Journal of Applied Research in Intellectual Disabilities, Holli M. Holmes and W. Ben Mortenson published a study on the quality of life for people with intellectual disabilities. In order to conduct this study, 19 people with intellectual disabilities were consulted. They came together in groups to discuss the things that had positive and negative impacts on their lives. The conclusion for the positives was that support, well-being, activities, and hobbies were the key factors to the improvement of quality of life.

[ https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/jar.13280 ]

Once again, I find this study fascinating as well. Of all the things that can help improve people's lives, having something to do counts for half of the overall conclusion. If this study were to be expanded to more than 19 people, I believe that this ratio would hardly change, even if those without intellectual disabilities were to be included in the study or studied separately. How many people can honestly say that they are okay with doing nothing? This doesn't mean sitting and looking at social media or reading or watching a movie, because, in all of those instances, you are still doing an activity. This is more about when you are surrounded by activity happening and you cannot engage with it despite wanting to. To do nothing goes against being alive, and being held back from doing something, anything, makes being alive quite hard.

Well, that brings me to my very last point: a silly little book about weird hobbies.

Michael Canfeild brings together a list of diverse and seemingly strange hobbies in his book America’s Oddest Hobbies. From dog grooming to bug fighting and from mooing to eggshell carving, there is a wide range of examples of what hobbies can entail.

As much as some of these examples might seem odd and not up your alley, that doesn't mean there isn't something out there just for you. Something that might seem weird to others, too. There are a lot of non-traditional hobbies, as well as hobbies that don't seem like hobbies. Some hobbies can also consume more or less time and/or money as well. Maintaining a social media account or ranking streaks in video games count as hobbies. Collecting items found on the ground such as rocks or lost trinkets can work, too, as something you do passively as you walk down a road or hallway. Taking pieces of plants and gluing them together on a canvas into a nature collage reminisce of a 3D painting. Dressing in different colors for specific days of the week or always wearing something themed for obscure holidays. Honestly, the list could go all. Big or small, profitable or not, hobbies like these can make living life better. Who knows, maybe if you are interested in profit and put yourself into doing well, others could see your work, take interest, and be open to the idea of buying what you do.

So, given what I've said thus far, my point stands strong. People need hobbies, and my proof sits in two studies and a silly little book. Improve your school and work life, improve your life over all, and go get yourself your own hobby. I know I have. Mine? I like to intentionally and perfectly tie a game of checkers without anyone losing any pieces. :D

[aluthra674]

A student should get their projects done by assignment help from Australia as they provide the best assignments through GotoAssignmentHelp company.

[tinmunky]

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Found on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38215375/chapters/95478313

No Galaxy for Old Men Series - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

Characters & Pairings: Zaeed Massani/Fem!Shep, Kasumi Goto, Garrus Vakarian

Summary: Shepard benches the Squad to help Kasumi take on Donovan Hock and Zaeed doesn’t have a whole lot of experience with emotions other than anger. Can his mouth get him out of the trouble it gets him in?

Rating: Explicit for sex - 7,848 words

Tags: Sexual tension, oral f receiving, f/m sex, violence, swearing, choking, angst, happy ending, big emotions, smut

Audio Parings: Chapter One: Gasoline - Halsey / Chapter Two: Riptide - Unlike Pluto / The Bad in Each Other - Feist / Chapter Three: To Be Alone - Hozier

Chapter 1: Set the Explosive

Things had been different since that night on Omega. Nothing overt had tipped him off to their change in dynamic, but that shared camaraderie seemed to have softened Shepard towards Zaeed. No, he wouldn’t call it that. She was still a stone-cold bitch with a temper that would light the fires of hell, but he seemed to be less frequently on the receiving end of it. He kind of missed the acidic attention.

In the last few weeks, Zaeed had found himself on more and more of her away missions, pulling each other out of one hairy situation after another. Zaeed hadn’t experienced this kind of exhilaration in at least a decade. The quality of her work was hard, brutal, and excessively dangerous. It reminded him of his early days in the Blue Suns. She was setting a mission tempo that a man half his age would have had difficulty maintaining and she never once asked if he could keep up. Thank God he hadn’t gone soft.

When she teamed him up with Vakarian, the three of them were unstoppable. She clearly played favorites, throwing the Turian a smile and him the snark, but he liked that edge. It kept him sharp. He got more out of a biting quip than a kind remark anyway. She seemed to know exactly what to say to whom to get the best performance from her team. Zaeed begrudgingly respected her leadership acumen, so he happily covered her six with Vakarian as her point. He wouldn’t be exaggerating if he said the view from behind was a deeply appreciated bonus.

They had started pretty rocky at first. That day in the elevator had left him hard as a rock and angry as a Krogan in rut. She had straddled him, covered in blood, with a smile as bright as the sun, and then she had the gall to cast a flirtation half invitation. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she didn’t actually hate his guts .

Imagine that—a polished career officer taking up with an old piece of mercenary shit like him. It was enough to make anyone laugh. Sure, there had been suggestive comments and banter thrown back and forth since then. She gave as good as she got, both physically and verbally, but he was under no illusions that this woman wasn’t all business. Yet, he couldn’t deny the magnetic tug he felt around her. He was sure they all felt it around her. She was a force of nature. Like staring into a supernova. You couldn’t help but be drawn in.

One day he’d point blank asked her if he’d become her favorite. She’d laughed and assigned him to latrine duty in retribution. He appreciated her sense of humor.

Since they’d ironed out some wrinkles in their working relationship, Zaeed hadn’t given Shepard a hard time about being a team player, and she hadn’t made any decisions that he seriously questioned. Sure, he’d lift an eyebrow to some of her more outlandish ideas, but nothing that he thought would lead to certain death, until today.

The Normandy was scheduled to dock at the Citadel in a few hours for a routine overhaul, keeping them shoreside for a week. Joker was ecstatic, but Zaeed didn’t seek out the more civilized sectors when he could avoid it and being in Citadel space set him on edge. Already in a bad mood, he was then hauled up to the command deck only to be told that the newest member of the squad, the master thief Kasumi Goto, had a personal mission that needed immediate attention. It was just the fucking cherry on his bad mood cake.

Zaeed didn’t trust the new girl much. No one really knew who she was. He’d heard rumors through his richer, seedier channels that she was a ghost who left chaos in her wake, if she even existed at all. Goto had made more enemies in a career a third the length of his, and now she was going to drag Shepard—and the rest of them—into her drama. It was like she was actively trying to piss people off. He was pretty sure at one point she was using her little cloaking trick to spy on him in his bunk. Sneaky bitch. He respected the girl’s talent, but she had way too much arrogance to go along with that lack of judgement.

The walking bad mood leaned against the wall of the briefing room with the other members of the squad, glowering, waiting for the good news to just keep coming. Goto wanted them to help her infiltrate the personal fortress of the biggest knob in the sector, Donovan Hock for her boyfriend’s bloody gray box.

Fucking. Great.

Zaeed tsked quietly under his breath, garnering a sharp glance from Shepard. The weapons dealer was not someone to be trifled with. He literally had an army at his disposal, the council in his pocket, and his greasy little fingers were in all the worst pies. Zaeed had suspected for years he funded Vido’s operations. The man was a piece of shit of the highest order. He’d be perfectly happy to see the asshole crash and burn, but as a spectator, not a participant. He didn’t want whatever heat came with taking the piss with a man like Hock.

He kept these thoughts to himself as he listened to Shepard and Goto lay out the details, casting periodic glances at Vakarian, trying to read his take on the whole thing. The bloke didn’t seem happy with the prospect of kicking a hornet’s nest but he remained silent. Zaeed glanced farther down the table. Lawson, who always had something to say about everything, was also uncharacteristically quiet. It did nothing but key Zaeed up more.

This whole business didn’t benefit the team or their end goal; why was Shepard even entertaining the notion? This was strictly personal to Goto, and it rubbed him the wrong way. Since when had he become such a team player? He stuffed that smarmy little voice back in the box it came out of and scowled harder. With each word out of the small woman’s mouth, his blood pressure ticked higher. Then she made her final demand. Shepard had to go alone, unarmed, unarmored and with only a slip of a thief as her lifeline.

The idea of cutting Shepard off from all her resources for a deep infiltration job that risked her, their entire mission… everything for something as ridiculous as some little girl romance made his blood boil. Zaeed chanced a another look at Vakarian. His vocals rumbled in two layers, dissatisfied, but said nothing. Zaeed grunted. Fucking pussy. Well, if the Turian wasn’t going to be the voice of reason, Zaeed would bloody well have to. He pushed off the wall and stepped forward.

“You’re actually entertaining this horse shit?” he scoffed at Shepard. “You’ve gotta be bloody kidding me! Donovan Hock is not some low-rent criminal.”

“Excuse me, I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Massani.” Shepard’s clap back was crisp and razor sharp. Her fingers tented on the shiny glass table. “You’re in this briefing as a courtesy only. This mission is already green-lit and your input on my chances of success will not change this. You’re benched until further notice.”

Zaeed leaned in, all coiled frustration and suddenly angrier than he had any right to be, finger pointed across the table at the Commander. In for a penny, in for a pound. He was never good at being put in his place.

“And I don’t recall you being a childish halfwit.” Zaeed fired back. ”What do you think he’ll do if he realizes he’s got the Commander Shepard? This is a right stupid idea, and you fucking know it. We don’t have a dog in this fight with Donovan Hock. He’s a right fucker, and this feels a helluva lot like a trap that you’re too much of a goddam goody–two-shoes-romantic to accept.”

With each word, Shepard’s gaze sharpened down to a laser point on Zaeed, a white-hot rage rolling off her. He might have pushed her a bit farther than he had planned, letting his frustration runaway with his mouth, but he didn’t back down. Staring right back. In for a penny…

Miranda stepped up, a facilitating smile plastered across her face, ready to PR the fuck out of this squabble.

“What I’m sure Mr. Massani means…” She began.

“Shut the fuck up, Cheerleader,” Jack hissed, clearly knowing when not to get between two varrens about to start slinging teeth.

“Yes, shut up, Lawson.” Shepard’s voice was like ice as she took slow, measured steps around the table to stand before the merc. The room was silent as all eyes fixed on the two tempers swirling. Zaeed’s eyes darted across her face staring coldly back at him. Fuck. He’d burned up any good will she had for him. But he meant what he said. This was a bad, bad idea.

“You have the absolute gall to lecture me on jeopardizing the mission for a personal vendetta? After that bullshit with Vido?”

Fuck. Publicly slapping him would have been less vicious.

Whatever floodgates that had held all his mounting tension at bay snapped. He did the only thing he could do that wouldn’t land him in an all-out brawl.

“Fuck you, princess.” He hissed around scarred lips and clenched teeth before brushing past her towards to door.

“You haven’t been dismissed, Massani.” She called.

“Fuck you!” He roared as he slammed his fist into the door jamb on his way out, leaving a healthy dent.

———

Chapter 2: Light the Fuse

Zaeed had made it to the relative privacy of his storage closet quarters in record time, thankfully not encountering any of the crew along the way. He was of a mind to punch the next bloody person he saw. Rationally, he knew he had earned this. He let his mouth get ahead of him, and despite his very valid feelings towards the risk Goto was putting her in (them, he corrected himself), he was the last person on this tub that could cast shade for trying to settle a score on someone else’s dime.

He entered the room like a angry bull. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, he shucked off his jacket, his shoulders stretching the white tank across his scarred and inked back as he threw the battered leather across the workbench.

“Fuck!” He exploded.

The clatter of tools and components hitting the floor provided a loud and satisfying accompaniment to his childish violence. If he was being honest with himself, which he would rather die than do, he would admit that the reason he was so pissed was that he was being left behind. He could do fuck-all to protect her if he was on the Normandy. Sure, she had gone on dozens of missions without him, but if he wasn’t there, Vakarian was. Garrus was the only one on the squad that Zaeed felt was truly capable of keeping Shepard in one piece.

He stood in the center of the room, listening to the comforting hum of the garbage compactor. Zaeed took a deep shaky breath before running roughened hands through his hair, settling them behind his head. He rolled his neck to release some of the tightly-wound tension and tried to look at this clearly.

Maybe if he hadn’t made such a public scene, it might have gone differently. She had a knack for mashing his buttons good and hard, but when had he ever done the right fucking thing? Zaeed had really fucked this one up, but goddammit, she was too bloody arrogant to see reason. Each mission she seemed little more reckless, a little keener to spit in death’s face to be the hero. Heroes end up dead.

As he blankly stared at the wall across from him, sorting through whatever the fuck this emotional mess was, the bulkhead door slid open with a hiss. Zaeed dropped his head back and closed eyes in a silent prayer for peace. Couldn’t she just leave me alone?

“Get the fuck out.” His raspy voice sounded much calmer than he anticipated.

“It’s my ship.” She responded, her voice tight. He cast a narrowed eye over his shoulder. She stood in the doorway, arms folded over her painted-on uniform, every crease perfectly pressed, face benign, temper under control. Not a hair out of place. Seeing her so unfazed pissed him off all over again. He was taken with an irrational urge to pull that wretched bun down. To ruffle her feathers to match his mood. He turned to face her, arms folded over his own chest, stance mirroring hers.

“Say your piece, then get the fuck out.” He groused, head tilted towards the still open door.

She stepped into the room, and the door automatically closed behind her. The room was bathed in a dim light, only the ambient cargo hold lighting and the red glow of the garbage compactor keeping them visible. He really didn’t know if he could handle her being this close to him right now. His blood was still up from her barbs at the briefing and the fact he had no control over any of this.

“Do you have to fight me on literally everything?” She asked. She sounded tired.

“It’s my core competency—being disagreeable.” He quipped back. Safety in glib responses. “I’m in no mood to apologize for speaking my mind, Shepard. Especially since you’re going to do whatever you want anyway. Why are you even here if my opinion of yer stupid ass decision doesn’t matter?”

She snorted. A weary, sardonic half smile played across her lips. Clearly him being a right unfriendly knob wasn’t scaring her off.

“Do you think any of this is discretionary for me, Zaeed?”

“As ya often remind me, this is yer bloody ship, so yeah, I do think ya can tell them no” Zaeed’s accent grew apace with his frustration.

She looked contemplative for a moment before drawing her lower lip between her teeth, weighing her next words carefully. He knew he was being a dick, and she wouldn’t take the bait. Her lack of responding anger made him uneasy. He didn’t know the rules of this game. Usually they’d sling verbal jabs, maybe a literal one or two and that would be that. This Shepard he didn’t know how to handle.

“I don’t have the luxury to not do everything in my power to ensure our success. You’ve seen what we’re up against. You know this isn’t a game, and in the end we’re all expendable. That’s the definition of a suicide mission Zaeed. We all knew this when we signed on.” Her voice sounded exasperated and exhausted, almost pleading with him to let it go. He hated that voice. He knew how to handle angry, violent, sarcastic Shepard. This was a side he wasn’t used to seeing.

“Bullshit!” He hissed. Her eyes darted up to meet his. A fleeting spark, but she remained silent. He needed her to fight back.

“Do you even hear yourself?” He asked, incredulous. His voice rose with each word. "You didn’t sign up for this. We did! You were conscripted, and you’re still so goddamn eager to martyr yourself on any sword these self-centered brats offer you. For what? To buy their loyalty?”

Shepard scoffed as she moved to the workbench. She tossed his jacket to the narrow cot he had set against the wall, the movement pulling the fabric of her uniform taught across her breasts. Jesus. His mouth went dry. She leaned back against the freshly-cleared edge, hands gripping the cool metal and the fabric somehow tightened more. Zaeed increased the death grip on his anger, trying to counterbalance the intoxicatingly magnetic pull of her subtly suggestive and completely oblivious mannerisms.

“I don’t expect you to get it Zaeed.” Her voice was cold and controlled. “Some people are motivated by things other than money and vengeance.”

He wondered if she saw him flinch, her cold insult landing like a physical blow. He could feel himself flush with anger and embarrassment to be so casually reminded of his own shortcomings. Since that day on Zorya, he had given her his loyalty. As time went on, he’d not have hesitated to give her his life. Not because he was being paid, or because of a contract, or because of the promise of Vido, but because he believed in her— and to have her not see that, to throw it back in his face? That cut real deep.

He practically vibrated with the need to knock her off her high horse and his traitorous brain provided a decent visual of him scooping her up, setting her on the cold surface of the bench with him between her knees. Christ. His body was still locked in this constant battle of anger and lust when it came to her. In a panic to erase the visual that sent fire through his body, he leaned into the anger instead, finding comfort in trading verbal blows. He wanted to make her feel it. Feel how she made him feel. His next comment was leaving his mouth before his brain had the chance to slam on the brakes.

“Oh, I do get it Shepard.” His voice thick with rage. “If you constantly throw yourself at other people’s problems, maybe you’ll prove you’re actually good enough for them. Maybe if you’re good enough, ole’ what’s-his-face will accept you again?“

A smart man would have instantly regretted those words. A wise man wouldn’t have said them at all, but as the last words left his lips, her face lit up and she was full of fire again. The cold, quiet defeat burned away and, God, she was beautiful when she burned.

She pushed off the bench and closed the distance between them, as lightening quick as her hand flashing hard across his face. His eyes widened. The sting across his cheek was nothing compared to the shock. She’d never slapped him before. Sure they’d brawled, drawn blood with fists and kicks, but she’d never open-handed slapped him before.

“How fucking dare you.” She hissed between clinched teeth.

He caught her wrist before she could slap him again and yanked her off balance into his chest. Her free hand shot out to grip his bicep for balance, a feminine gasp escaping her parted lips as her nails dug in. He felt instantly ashamed of his tactics, but he was powerless to stop now. He was fighting dirty. She wasn’t stopping him, and he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

Zaeed felt like he was holding it together by a thread. Her wrist was easily encircled by his larger hand. When had this larger-than-life woman become so delicate? His left hand came up to grip the nape of her neck, pinning her to him. Her hair slid across his battle-roughened hands, that damned bun finally askew. He stared at her face, horrified at how low he’d gone. Her full lips were still parted and dangerously close, blue eyes dark and glassy with emotions he couldn’t read. And… and it broke something in him. He was sorry.

The realization made his next words the most honest he’d ever spoken.

“If you keep parting yourself out, Logan, there will be nothing left.” Her given name felt foreign on his tongue.

“I don’t know how, Zaeed.” She whispered. He released her wrist, but she held on as he slid his hand along her rib, pulling her closer. Holding her tight, longer to restrain her violence but to comfort her sorrow.

“I know, sweetheart.” Zaeed dragged the calloused pad of his thumb along her cheek, sweeping away the moisture gathered there. Her gaze searched his face. She was just as beautiful showing her vulnerability as she was with her strength.

In a day of bad decisions, what was one more? She’d probably kill him for this, but he’d made peace with his God long ago.

Zaeed Massani slid his hand across her jaw to angle her just right and kissed Logan Shepard.

His mouth was feather-soft against hers, waiting for her to eviscerate him for the offense. Instead, her lips parted under his, and it was like gasoline on the fire. Every dirty thought he had about her, every time he’d watched her hips swing past him in the corridor, every time he’d eased the pressure in the shower thinking of her came rushing to the surface. Zaeed pulled her flush against him, the length of her body molding to his as he set about devouring the woman of his dreams and his nightmares.

Shepard’s arms swept up around his shoulders, lost in the wave of their emotions. All these months of shared tension crested the dam and flooded forth. She fisted her hands in his hair, crashing her lips against his in a new form of sparring. Applying teeth in a sharp nip against his scarred lip.

Zaeed smoothed his hand down the small of her back, grasping a fist full of the ass he had spent so much time protecting. He started to lift her up onto the workbench and make his fantasies a reality when the comms chimed, EDI’s voice a bucket of frigid water on their personal wildfire.

“Commander Shepard, we’ve docked at the Citadel.”

Shepard’s whole body jumped in his hands as she broke the kiss, her eyes wide with terror.

“Copy that, EDI.” She replied, her voice shaken, her lips swollen and glistening. Fuck the robot, Zaeed thought, his eyes hooded as he leaned back in.

“Commander, are you well? Your heart rate and Mr. Massani’s are elevated.” EDI couldn’t possibly be that naive. “And it appears someone has rerouted the security cameras for the starboard cargo hold.”

“YeP!” She squeaked, overeager. “Perfectly fine! I’ll get to the bridge in a jiff.”

Zaeed closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, trying to slow his heart and his thoughts. The palm of her hand was scalding through his shirt and all he could think of was never letting go.

“Make Miranda go.” He whispered.

“You know I can’t.” Her voice was soft, but no longer defeated. “Will you trust me?”

“You’re the first person I’ve trusted in a very long time.” His veil of indifference and anger was long gone, leaving him bare. He broke the moment with a sharp squeeze of her cheek still in his hand, setting her a safe distance from him. He ran both hands through his hair in an attempt to keep them to himself, the thick silver stands standing on end.

“I’ve never contemplated murdering an AI before, but I definitely might make the effort now.” He sighed “You’d better git before I do something we both regret.”

She opened her mouth, and Zaeed wasn’t ready for rejection—or worse, acceptance—so he cut her off.

“Or Grunt comes looking for you and he kills me.”

She laughed. Goddammit. She laughed, and his gut flipped, both blatantly ignoring the row that brought her to his quarters, neither having the courage to say what needed to be said. She straightened her uniform as she walked towards the door. He knew she would go through with this mission. It was who she was at her core, and he knew that when she came back on the other side, they’d have to address whatever the fuck this now was. His gut flipped the other direction.

“Hey Shepard.” The gravel was back in his voice. She turned as he waved about his head dramatically. “Fix your hair.”

———

Chapter 3: Explosions Go Boom!

Zaeed was in the cargo hold when Shepard and Kasumi Goto boarded their shuttle to take on Donovan Hock. He had been working with Garrus on inventorying a special order of weapons components that needed calibration. Garrus had been prattling on about the merits of this particular setup versus that when he stopped mid sentence, suddenly tensing, a strangled “shit” hissing out. Zaeed looked up from the contents of the crate. He was pretty sure that constriction in his chest was his heart stopping. He was having a heart attack. This is what a heart attack felt like.

She was simply, stunning.

Shepard smartly marched across the platform in a set of smoking hot heels and a synth leather cocktail dress, both modest in neckline and completely sinful in cut. She deliberately avoided eye contact with everyone present, her head high and cheeks charmingly pink. The smaller woman trailed behind her like a dingy, skipping to keep up. Shepard’s crimson lips pressed in a determined line, her flaxen hair swept up and back in a long, swishing pony tail. He hadn’t realized her hair was so long, it was always in that damned bun. His overactive imagination happily supplied a detailed image of his fist wrapped in the length as he held her bent back against him.

His fingers twitched against the crate. Shit. Indeed.

Zaeed must have made a sound, or a move towards her because Garrus’ sub-vocals rumbled low.

“Don’t.” he hissed for only Zaeed to hear, his taloned hand falling heavy on the mercenary’s shoulder, rooting him in place.

Zaeed watched Shepard step onto the shuttle and turned to key the hatch closed behind her, His mismatched eyes locking with hers. She nodded to him once. Acknowledgement he didn’t deserve. He lifted his chin in response. The sharp gesture loaded with things that may never be resolved. And, so Zaeed and Garrus stood, watching Shepard depart on her most foolhardy mission yet where neither of them could follow.

As her shuttle cleared the Normandy, Zaeed shucked off Garrus’ heavy mitt.

“I need a goddamn drink birdman.” Zaeed’s voice thick with restrained agitation.

“Yeah. Me too.” Garrus said with resignation. All thoughts of calibrations and weapons components forgotten.

~~~

Shepard had to admit, if the plasma burns were any indication, stealing memory was not her forte. She’d managed to finesse her way through the gala with a surprising amount of charm only to have her ass practically handed to her by Donovan Hock himself in highly modified A-61 Mantis gunship. She’d known he would be well guarded, well trained and well armed, but Kasumi hadn’t said shit about a god damn gunship with fucking black market kinetic barriers.

Looking down that particular barrel had really made her second guess her decision to leave her squad on the bench. Kasumi’s cloaking abilities had saved their asses, but it was a close one. Closer than she probably would ever let anyone know.

They had ridden the Kodiak back in silence. Kasumi lost in whatever catharsis having recovered Keiji’s graybox held and Shepard being angry at how close they came to proving Zaeed right. A fate almost as annoying as death. She was grateful they had made it back in one piece, because it was pretty fucking close for a second there. Wouldn’t that have been a fun way to say fuck you to the Illusive Man. She thought. Oops I died again. She choked on a strangled giggle as she applied more medi-gel. Kasumi’s eyes darting back to her. Miranda would have lost her mind if she’d broken the merchandise before she served her purpose. The ride to the Citadel from the neighboring Boltzmann system would take a few hours, just enough time for the medi-gel to work its magic, leaving fresh pink skin across shoulder and hip.

Shepard had stripped out of her singed armor and taken some time in the shuttle’s head to clean herself up. Satisfied with the progress of her burns, the shiny pink skin was sensitive but no longer burning, she silently cursed herself for not packing another set of clothes. Nothing for it, she’d have to wear that stupid cocktail dress. It was the only clothing that wasn’t Swiss cheese. Her whole kit was a fucking mess. The shields had taken a beating and plasma had scorched through the pauldron and hip plate, hence the bacon smell of cooked flesh. Hell, even her underwear hadn’t survived the massacre. She added them to the heap in disgust, an angry tsk escaping her lips and garnering another side eyed glance from Kasumi.

“What?” She hadn’t missed the other woman’s eyes darting away.

“Nothing!” Kasumi squeaked.

Shepard’s eyes narrowed, but she left it alone, instead deciding to fantasize about when the Kodiak docked with the slumbering Normandy. She’d skip the visit to Chakwas and head straight towards her quarters. A shower. A drink. A nap. She was definitely looking forward to the downtime necessitated by the Normandy’s maintenance. Maybe she’d have that drink first, then the shower, then the nap… If everyone could just keep their personal needs to a minimum for the rest of the shore leave that would be just fucking great.

~~~

Zaeed knew the moment Shepard’s Kodiak had hailed the Normandy to start docking protocols. He had been laying awake in his bunk, nursing his bad mood with a bit of nicked whiskey when the alert popped up on the scrambled piggyback channel. He’d installed back door protocols, skeleton keys and camera workarounds for the entire ship the first week he’d been aboard and had managed to avoid EDI’s interference so far. Not much happened that he wasn’t immediately aware of. He took evil pleasure in how much that would annoy Lawson.

He watched the Kodiak touch down in the deserted cargo hold from the rerouted security monitor in his storage closet. She’d stepped down from the hatch barefoot and carrying her heels, still wearing that sin of a dress as she headed for the elevator. Cheeky minx. A pent up tension he’d carried since her departure eased between his shoulders.

A quiet “huh” escaped his pursed lips. Her usual efficient movements looked reserved, as she turned back to the Kodiak to say something to Goto, he could see the noticeably reddened skin down her arm. Healed skin, Medi-gel slick. Apparently the heist didn’t go as smoothly as the report he’d pilfered off Chamber’s data pad had indicated. The little shit had lied on her official report. The slow anger mingled with the relief. She definitely could have died, but she didn’t, but she could have. She had been injured and had managed it herself to appear no worse for wear. Prideful thing.

Zaeed grunted. Coming to some kind of decision before he could look more closely at his motivations. He snatched up the half empty bottle and headed for the door. How they left things had quietly ate away at him. And now that he knew she made it out alive, he was compelled to finish what they started. Glancing at his reflection in the window overlooking the cargo hold he grimaced. He’d always have a fucked up mug, the scars of his face telling of a dangerous life lived, but that hadn’t seemed to matter to her.

Tapping a quick loop in the corridor cameras along the way, he slid unnoticed to the service hatch and made his way upstairs. He beat Shepard to her quarters and used the skeleton key protocol on his omni-tool to let himself in. He hadn’t been up here since he’d slept in her bed the night she’d drunk herself stupid over some idiot boy. He still thought about how, under different circumstances, that night could have gone. He’d laid awake most of that night listening to her quiet breathing, marveling at how sleep softened all her hard edges. He was the idiot.

Zaeed had debated with himself over and over again to let whatever their last meeting had stirred up die a quiet, dignified death. Never to be spoken of again. He took a deep swig of the amber liquid and set the bottle down on her desk. He wasn’t the “go quietly” kinda guy though, and he sure as shit wasn’t a coward. He hoped she wasn’t either.

~~~

The door whooshed open and his entire body stiffened, the black work of his tattoos shifting as his folded arms tightened. He had leaned against the the wall beside the door, failing miserably at trying to affect casualness. He had rehearsed so many clever opening lines. Hey sweetheart. Hey kitten. Hey princess. I told you so. I’m glad you’re alive. I’m sorry? Second guessing every life choice that led him here. But he had to be here. They had unfinished business.

Her head was down as she stepped over the threshold. Throwing her shoes across the room with a clatter, she was lost in thought, her guard down. Zaeed really meant to talk to her. To clear the air, to give her shit, but he watched her pull that maddening quantity of hair from its binding, its shiny curtain hiding him from her view and his fingers twitched.

All his smooth plans slid out of his addled brain. He was so fucked.

Before he could assess the stupidity of his actions, Zaeed’s calloused hand wrapping around her wrist, mirroring how their last encounter started, he pulled her towards him. And again, that uncharacteristically feminine gasp as she collided against him. Her breasts pressed flush against his chest, solid and warm and all her.

It was a fucking match and he was ignited.

Lightning quick, Shepard’s free hand had instinctively come up to lock around his throat, her thumb pressed against his thundering pulse, ready to squeeze the life she held out of him. Her wide eyes met his, darting across his face as recognition dawned.

“Zaeed?” Her breathy whisper escaping full, parted lips tightened his chest and went straight to his cock. She didn’t let go.

He was truly fucked.

Zaeed took the split second of her not kicking his ass as an invitation to commit suicide and with a sandpaper growl slotted his mouth across hers. Words replaced by action. This wasn’t his plan but god dammit, she kissed him back. Her tongue followed the seam of his lower lip before teasing inside, she swallowed his answering groan and leaned in.

He dropped her captured wrist and slid battle hardened hands under the curve of her ass, lifting as he slammed her against the bulkhead. His narrow hips pinning her against the wall, she instinctively wrapped those long legs around him, distributing her weight and freeing his hands. In for a penny, he thought as she molded her free hand along his jaw, guiding his mouth were she wanted it, teeth nipping, tongue soothing the sting. She sure as shit wasn’t a coward.

Following the curve of slit bared thigh with one hand, he slid the other into that glorious hair. He was going to live out one of his thousands of fantasies, before she could strangle him to death. He pulled her hair tight in his fist and her lips broke from his on a wet gasp. Her eyes hooded, burning and the groan the tension pulled from her lips was a fucking drug.

Her thumb ran the groove of his neck muscle, her eyes following it’s path, watching the havoc it wreaked across his face and he was harder than he’d been in his life. Her thumb dug a little deeper into his neck and he saw stars.

“Fuck, girl.” He tortured voice squeezed past her grip as his hips rutted against her warm core separated by only a few flimsy layers of cloth. He rolled his hips against her again and she groaned in return.

“Please.” She ground out, her head craned back from the tension, exposing the smooth column of her neck.

“Please, what?” His voice rasped. His lips and teeth trailing down her neck before nipping hard at her sensitive bared shoulder, marking the freshly repaired skin.

“Fuck me Zaeed.”

“Is that an order Commander?” He teased. Rolling his hips again.

“Yesss.” She hissed.

He chuckled darkly and she squeezed again cutting off his air before easing up. If she killed him, he’d die happy.

“Hold tight baby.” He mouthed against her skin and brought her away from the wall to drop her unceremoniously on her desk. Shoving aside the bottle of forgotten whiskey, data pads and ship models he stood between her bent knees working on fantasy number two. He ran his hands up her thighs trying to ruch up her too tight dress. What was once a mouth watering trigger was the bane of his fucking existence.

“Goddamn it. You like this dress princess?” He growled out.

“I fucking hate it.” Her voice vehement, her hands frantically scrambled across the plans of his abs, fisting at his hips and yanking the shirt from his pants. He leaned back allowing her to pull it from his body. He was all hard planes, scar tissue and ink. A taught body used as a weapon and a canvas and he could feel her eyes leaving a trail of fire wherever they landed. Frozen for a moment in her observation, he took her distraction to his advantage.

“Good.” The glint in his eyes feral as he grabbed the slitted seam and with an angry grunt tore it from hem to neckline. Jesus Christ. She wasn’t wearing any underwear. All of Commander Logan Shepard was suddenly on display for him and he was struck dumb. His hands sliding along her ribs of their own volition. Thumbs grazing the gentle curve of her petite, high breasts to cup gently. She was an athlete, lean muscle clad in silken new skin. The reconstruction scars all but faded, leaving a faint map for him to follow. How could his mouth water and be dry at the same time? He choked down a swallow.

“God, you’re beautiful.” His voice cracked, full of reverence.

“Zaeed,” her voice exasperated as she grabbed his pants at the V of his hips to pull him in. “I gave you an order.”

His bark of laughter cracked.

“You’re a goddamn brat, you know that?” He said, grabbing her behind the knees and dragging her to the edge of the desk.

“You like me this way old man.” Her voice thick and sultry as she fumbled with his tabs.

Zaeed wasn’t ready to give in to her every whim. She was a brat too used to calling all the shots and getting her way. He’d show her the benefit of experience. He slapped her hands away from his pants and dropped to his knees between her dangling legs.

“Wh.. what are you doing.” She stammered.

“Whatever I want.” His insolent reply. “Are you ticklish sweetheart?” His voice now heavy with threat.

“Zaeed…” Her voice suddenly high with panic.

Zaeed tilted his worn face up to to her. His mismatched eyes were bottomless as he slowly slid one of her legs over his shoulder, daring her to stop him. His hand resting heavy at the crease of her hip, locking her there before using his other hand to press her dangling knee wide, exposing all of her to him. He never took his eyes from her as ran his stubbled jaw across her inner thigh. Like a big cat scenting, he abraded the delicate skin and her breathing hitched. He couldn’t keep the satisfied smirk from his lips. He watched the charming pink flush across her chest, but she remained fixed.

Her breath was ragged now as she watched him with wide, glittering eyes. He’d never seen her so rattled, so out of control her hands gripping the desk edge for support. He felt like a god there between her thighs. Zaeed watched her closely as he moved his way up towards her glistening core. Ghosting the back of his knuckles against her thigh, closer and closer and closer still.

“Do you want this?” He asked. Pivoting from his earlier bravado.

“God dammit Zaeed, yes!” She yelled back and he huffed in agreement before laying his mouth against her to drown in her flavor. They both groaned in satisfaction, his eyes daring her to look away and goddamn she was no coward. She fisted her hand in his hair and bucked up into his mouth dragging a groan from him he swore went straight to her cunt by the sudden increase in slickness.

Doubling his efforts, Zaeed alternated his attack. Laving flat tongue to a point and flick, he sucked her sensitive bud into his mouth and Shepard’s eyes rolled closed as her head tipped back on a strangled moan. He could feel her body tense and jerk when he hit that particularly responsive spot. He couldn’t remember a meal he’d enjoyed more as he buried his face against her. She was sweet and salty and fucking wet. This was everything he’d imagined, but he could do more. He flicked his tongue once more against that swollen nub before dragging himself away. Her desperate whine at the sudden loss swallowed as he kissed her. Her tastes mingling on his tongue, he wouldn’t leave her bereft.

All that weapon honed dexterity meant that Zaeed had talented hands which he put to good use sliding through her folds. One finger, knuckle deep, two, pressing his palm against her mound as she rode against his hand, her nails latched into the backs of his arms. Taught muscle gripped tight as her only anchor to reality. The calloused thumb of his other hand grazing over the edges of her breast, cupping the tidy handful, her nipple rolled between nimble fingers before migrating back to her hair, cradling her skull as he worked her over. His mouth swallowing the moans and sighs and filthy words he dragged from her lips.

“Fuck.” She hissed again. “Please.” Coherent sentences failing, but the desperation clear as a bell. She slid her hands down to his pants. Her intentions to divest him of the rest of his clothing.

“Use your words princess.” His breath warm in the shell of her ear. His teeth grazing.

“Fuck me Zaeed.” Her impatience burned in each syllable.

He slanted his mouth over hers again before deftly popping the tabs on his pants and shoving the fly aside. He needed her as much as she needed him. He didn’t have time to shed his boots and pants. His wicked games in the end tortured them both.

Freed from its confines, Zaeed pulled his hand from her moist folds to take the heavy weight of his cock in hand, pumping twice before running the swollen head against her slick and she keened. The sound was music to him. He hadn’t wanted a woman this bad in all his long memory and he savored the precipice before sliding home, one agonizing inch at a time.

Jesus. He was going to die.

He went torturously slow to allow her time to adjust before Zaeed finally came to rest, hilted deep on her exalted sigh and him almost in pain at holding his control. Every nerve was on fire, his body as tight as a bow as he covered her, holding onto her hip to anchor them both. She was so fucking warm, so tight, so perfect. His soul felt like it was leaving his body.

He was definitely going to die.

Shepard hooked her legs over his hips, locking her heels at the small of his back and drew him in closer. His self control stretched to its breaking point and he pressed his forehead to hers, eyes dipping closed. Their ragged breathing tied and suddenly everything was much more serious. This wasn’t about power struggles, or blowing of some good natured sexual tension. She had somehow replaced a life of hollow, selfish existence with something more. He was laid raw before her.

“You don’t know what hell you put me through.” His voice was rough with need and emotion.

“Show me.” Her response a challenge and his eyes shot open, locking with hers. Always there to push him farther.

Zaeed threaded his hand into her hair again. Holding her immobile before him so he could watch her face as he torturously dragged himself from her. Slowly, slowly back before slamming home again. All of her passion. All of her need was written across her features. Her pupils blown and mouth a pretty “o” as he fucked into her again, building speed and force until they both held on for dear life. The repeated thud of his hips against hers thick and meaty, in time with her breathy moans. He was quickly approaching that cliff’s edge and he’d be damned if he didn’t shove her off first. He was not gentle and the sting of racked nails meant she wasn’t either.

God, he hopped they scarred.

Zaeed crashed his mouth into hers, swallowing her cries and pouring all of his repressed anger and lust and fear into her. He reached between their fevered bodies and dragged a heavy thumb across her clit. Once, twice, he could feel she was close. Her walls fluttering and her breath shallow and quick. A third time and over the edge she went, clamping down on him like a vice and her voice strangled on his name.

“I got you baby.” He whispered as he slowed his pace, fucking her gently through her orgasm. Shepard’s eyes fluttered open, and she slid her hand across the flat plane of his chest, to encircle his throat again. Thumb back into that groove like it was made for her. She lightly applied pressure.

“Who told you to stop?” The command back in her voice.

Zaeed’s guttural groan rumbled through them as he picked up his pace and effort. Hard and harder still chasing his own release. His fingers leaving bruises across her hips as he dug in. Pistoning in and out, chasing that ragged edge as he watched their bodies join and separate with a violence that would scare a lesser woman. But not her. She stroked the corded muscles of his neck, applying the perfect level of pressure, her eyes hooded as shallow grunts left her on each thrust.

There was no question who held the reins here. She fucking owned him. She held his being in the palm of her hand and the grip of her cunt and if he died now. It was worth it.

“Come for me, Zaeed.” Her voice whisper soft and it threw him across that edge. He buried himself deep with a howl and filled her. Shallow thrusts riding the aftershocks until he stilled. His breathing ragged with his face buried in her neck. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him close to her breast, as it took everything to hold himself up, let alone together.

After a moment of relearning to breathe he pushed away from her. Searching her face for the rejection he knew was coming next. Thanks for the fun, now get the fuck out. He searched her face for a hint of the acid to come. But her eyes were soft, her smile satisfied. She gently brushed a lock of his faded hair from his forehead back and out of his eyes.

“Take me to bed Zaeed.” She was back to giving orders.

“Yes ma’am.” He hummed low.

[mindblindbard]

Hia!

I love mindblind, and ever since I read it my brain is, completly unprompted I might add, coming up with fantastic ideas for my own interactive fiction. This would be great idea for my next creative project... if I wasn't utterly terrified of coding. How did you get over that hurdle and any tips for someone who can make the words do good but has approximately less than zero knowledge of computer stuff?

So, I’m the least techy person ever who somehow does techy things (ask me someday about how I built a PC by connecting the thinga-ma-giggy to the doo-hickey-ma-bob). That disclaimer aside, I personally found it helpful to go about learning choicescript coding the same way I learned dead languages: in very small doses. I was a Classics major (Latin and Ancient Greek), so language learning for me was about declining verbs and dissecting passages, not gaining immediate fluency.

And that’s all coding really is: mathy grammar.

(Below is what worked for me.)

Don’t try to go through all the Choicescript tutorials at once. Learn the bare minimum you need to get by in order to write a few passages (*choice, *label, and *goto). Write the passages, then code them. Learn to make a stat screen and how to set stats (*set). All of Mind Blind’s Chapter 1 was initially written using only those four commands. 

Then I retroactively added inserting names (for both people and cookies) and added in *if flavor text based on stats. 

Then CorvusWitchcraft (an amazing writer, who codes eons better than I) on the COG Forum  taught me about Implicit Command Flow and *fake_choice. Asking for help . . . helps! 

Eventually, I figured out how to make stats temporarily disappear, and how to code trickier passages like Chapter 2′s assignment (which I still have nightmares about muddling through).

My point is, figure things out on a bare minimum need-to-know basis as you write. You’ll retain the knowledge better because you’re immediately putting it into practice. You may even think of new ways to code, although you might end up not being able to execute everything due to limitations in the coding language (press F for my abandoned night-mode blackout simulation).

Good luck on your project!

[mxvladdy]

Good hell, your True Form series is the absolute best! (and totally canon for me tbh). I saw that we can drop you a prompt and I wanted to ask, if you can do one where the obey boys comfort an Mc who lost someone dear to them? It's totally alright if you dont want to! I hope you are having safe and healthy days!

Thankie anon! I hope you are well too! My condolences if you have lost someone ;.; I hope you like this and I’m stoked you like my True Form series!  

Diavolo

Loss is not a new concept to him. Like many on the student council, he is well versed in it. The emotional strain can be numbing, and was numbing to him at one point in his life. He can’t really remember it now though. When was the last time he actually felt grief over a fallen companion?

But humans are different. Time is a scant commodity to mortals. Lose could stick to a human for their entire lifetime. When you come to him he is distraught. He hates seeing you in any form of discomfort. The best he can offer you is his undivided attention and shoulder if you need it. He is actually full of comforting and wise words from all the lifetimes he has experienced.

If you need time topside he’ll arrange a portal for you and you just take all the time you need. His program is not more important than family in his eyes. If you would like him to accompany you then he shall gladly. Sends the biggest, yet most tasteful flower arrangement to the funeral home and to the gravestone.

Barbatos

Probably has the hardest time relating to such a concept. The finite idea of time is something he struggles to conceptualize. Unless he physically wipes someone from the planes of existence he can, to a certain extent, simply find them in another stream.

He knows not to offer or bring up that idea to you. You don’t ask him to either. His abilities have ironically a time and a place. This situation is not one of those. It upsets you but there is nothing you can do about it.

He will distract you instead, taking you on errands and shopping trips around the Devildom. He will indulge your human curiosity under his watchful eyes. Then, he will take you to the kitchens and brew you something strong. If you need to vent while he cooks please feel free, he wants to listen. Nothing you say or do will pass through this room.  

Solomon

Being human, and yet not, he understands the most out of everyone. He has loved and lost a great deal in his lifetimes. Some of which is still a raw wound on his heart. He is very much someone who will avoid talking about his feelings or things that dredge up his past failings.

If you come to him he will give you coping skills and drag you around the Devildom to take your mind off of your thoughts. He’ll take you for walks or to the woods. Is it dangerous? Yes. But the distraction of self-preservation has always worked for him.

During all of this, he will check in on you. If none of his tactics work he’ll cave, taking you to sit on the nearest comfortable surface. He’ll ask you little things about them or your relationship and reply in kind, albeit stiffly. It’s-nice. Some human bonding he didn’t expect. In a way, you both console each other.  

Luke

He’s an angel in training. He can help! Simone has been teaching him! He’s excited but knows he has to tone it down. He’ll recite all the verses and words of wisdom he’s picked up from Simone and Michael.

He’ll sulk a little if it doesn’t help. Well, that’s fine, he will just have to study harder for you! Till then he’ll try other methods. He’s goto is homemade cakes and hugs. He will want you to help baking (he can’t reach the top oven shhhhh).

You naturally take over after a while, and as time in the kitchen progresses you teach him a few recipes that your late loved ones had taught you or were their favorites. It makes you feel better, it’s cathartic. The smell reminds you of home. Luke will memorize each recipe and will make them for you whenever he thinks you're feeling down.

Simone

The first to offer you his condolences and a warm hug. He is very vigilant of you and your mood for weeks after you had confided in him of your loss. His words of wisdom and experience with working with souls were more comforting than with Luke.

He will ask Diavolo to take you outside of the Devildom. Just you, Luke, and himself. You may pick where. Whether it be the mortal realm or the celestial one. If you decide you want to go back home to visit your old stomping grounds then that is where they will go.

You lead him around your familiar territory, pointing out where you and yours would hang out. He’ll buy you things from their favorite stores if you allow it. Humans are sentimental and if a little bobble or trinket will soften the pain in your eyes then it is worth more than gold. Will visit the grave with you to place the things you bought on it. If you allow it will pray from them too. 

Lucifer

He lashes out at first when you come to him. It makes him feel vulnerable, his pack mark is infused with your storm of emotions. He brushes off your feelings and bristles at you trying to seek comfort in him. Familiar loss is a very touchy subject to him and bringing those feelings back to the surface for him hurts in ways he does not want to remember. It takes Simone politely (or not) reminding him it’s not about him and perhaps swallowing a bit of his pride would help you both.

He will come to you in the dead of night. He just opens up and talks to you. He’ll sit on the floor of your room with his back resting on your bed and share memories. You both laugh and recount the good, bad, and some ugly memories. You give each other great words of advice and comfort too. You fall asleep holding his hand with a soft smile on your face. Your tears have dried up hours ago. He leaves you to rest feeling lighter and closer to you in the long run.

If you invite him to the wake he will join without hesitation and hold your hand the whole time.

Mammon

He will cry with you. Seeing you like this makes him think back to the fall, it’s a lot for him. He’ll take you out drinking. It’s how he copes aside from gambling and other reckless things. Turns you into the responsible party of the night. It keeps you busy though that's for sure and side-tracked. Though, he will notice when you are uncomfortable and dips from the casinos to lead you somewhere quiet. He’ll pass a bottle between the two of you and talk about anything that comes to mind. He is bad at opening up in public. But alone and drunk, he has a bleeding heart.

He slips into his big brother persona pretty quickly once you two are alone. He may be a goofball around the others but he can be serious when the time calls for it.

He will ask all sorts of questions about them. He wants to know all about them if you are willing. He loves learning about your life and wants to make it better if he can. He will listen with rapt attention and interrupt only to laugh or ask a question. He swears over a greasy plate of food he bought you both at Hell’s kitchen to sober you that if you want him at the wake just ask.  

Leviathan  

For someone who usually stumbles over his words when you come to him for comfort, he is surprisingly eloquent. He’ll be uncomfortable with physically comforting you until you expressly ask for it.

He’ll try to distract you with video games and asinine conversations while you rest your head on his shoulder and watch. If you’re ok with it he’ll also drape his tail across your lap. The best hug he can give you while his hands are busy with his controller.

He wasn't very close to Lilthe compared to some of the other brothers but he’ll exchange little funny memories he has with you or some cringe-worthy ones to hear you laugh. Between the dim light of his room and the blue glow of his fish tank, you chat until you fall asleep. He doesn’t mind and lets you doze, still filling the dead air with little stories.

Satan

Ah...You have his sincerest condolences. It pains him to admit it but he has never truly felt loss for someone before. Things, yes. A loss of a good book, either stolen by Mammon or destroyed in a fit of rage by himself. He knows that feeling-but those aren’t the same and he knows that it is an ill-suited comparison.

He’ll lend you his ear though. Listen to whatever you have to say, or if you need to cry it out. His arms are always open for you. If you get angry he can help with that.  He knows how to channel it all to be productive or temper it so you don’t burn yourself out while you process your emotions. 

He-like Levi- will give you sage advice or find just the right words of comfort you need. During the school week if you need a break he will gladly take extra notes or turn in your assignments for you while you take some time off. He will give you some books from his personal library too after an off-handed comment about your late loved ones' favorite genre or author. They are yours if they make you happy.

Asmodeus

Sympathy tears like Mammon. He’ll listen with rapt attention and coo over you. Very touchy when he senses you are troubled. He’ll stroke your hair and let you dumb whatever weighs heavy on your heart. Hugs are the best way he knows how to comfort you.

He doesn’t try to distract you from your grief or your emotions. He knows all too well what happens when one bottles up their emotions for too long. Nasty business that. But, if you want a distraction just ask. He'll give you one. Something nice and (hopefully relaxing) maybe a night out perhaps? Or if you want to stay in he’ll pop in a movie or playlist of your choice and stay quiet. You spend the night in enjoying the physical closeness and no need to express yourself or exert energy trying to vocalize your feelings. He’ll bring out his best snack for the movies too, only the best chocolates and dried fruits for you to munch on.

If you have to plan the funeral or wake he will be there every step of the way if you want him to. He can take the reins if you are just too emotionally drained to do it. If you have ideas or plans for it he will follow them to the letter, no questions asked.

Beelzebub

It’s a lot for him. Even though his sister’s death was a millennia ago it’s still fresh in his mind. But he is strong and will do anything in his power to be there for you. The best way he knows how to cope with such pain is to exercise. If you want to, he will take you to the gym and train with you. Let you tire yourself out on a punching bag or weights.

He doesn’t have many words to say so he will just listen. The best partner for this really, you could go on for hours and he would just sit there and truly listen. He won’t judge how you cope, whether it is wailing or you just trying to act normally around campus. He will be a little bit more clingy after you tell him the news. He knows the tells of a breakdown from his twin so he wants to make sure you are not close to one.

If you invite him to the wake he will stay in the back and offer emotional support. Afterward, he’ll walk you around the local neighborhood and ask questions sporadically about how you're doing. Back at school, he will take notes to you and homework if you don’t feel like going in person.

Belphegor

Stays up with you at night if you can’t sleep due to stress or sadness. You can stay up in his room with him as long as you like and do whatever you need to get through this. Stay up or sleep with him though the day is fine. Though, if you stay up too long he will use the pack mark to make you rest. He keeps a close eye on you like his twin does.

He keeps you up in his attic room with him during the school day. Online classes are a thing and he will keep you content and warm with him till you feel up to snuff. He is smart but just lazy, though if you just can’t get the work done he’ll do it for you to turn in. Whatever, you need a break anyway.

He will fill the dead air while you rest with stories of when he would venture to the human realm with his siblings. He likes to hear stories of your childhood and adventures you had with your loved one too. He won’t offer to go to the human realm with you for the wake. But he will give you an elegant star themed decoration for the gravesite if you allow it.

[kamyru]

Captains’ Love (Kaga & Ishigami x Their MCs)

Author’s note: Remember this? So, I decided to write a scenario based on the headcanons. Though, I changed things a little. Also, the Ishigami from here is a mix of ‘My Sweet Bodyguard’ and ‘Her Love in the Force’ Ishigami.

Summary: On his first anniversary of his marriage, Ishigami accidentally hears the conversation between two of his students. Though, the students have to go through a big shock when found out things about personal life of two different people.

Word counting: 1096

It was three years after Ishigami was assigned for the first time to be an instructor at the Public Safety Academy. His first students were already detectives. Some of them even had their own lectures as teachers. Between them were Sasaki, Chiba, and even the first valedictorian, known by actual students as Kaga’s fiancee.

Soma became a captain with his own squad. Though, he was still an instructor and kept in touch with his former teammates. Kurosawa got his long-awaited full-time aide.

Even his personal life changed. He looked at his left ring finger and saw the silver band that he wore nearly daily for a year now. However, he wasn’t too vocal about this part of him. Only the people who knew him before he met his future wife sensed the difference in his behavior. For his actual students, he still looked like a rough, heartless cyborg.

While thinking about the girl that he loved more than himself, he heard noisy voices coming from the table near him. There were his past students who were eating lunch with his actual students.

The soon-to-be Mrs. Kaga waved to him.

“Congratulations on your anniversary,” she said before continuing to talk lively with others.

Ishigami bowed and smiled softly. It was always like this. Every time MC was mentioned, he was melting into a puddle. Before he finished eating, a person sat near him. He didn’t have to see who it was to sigh heavily. The other one did the same thing.

“Don’t think that I do it because I like it. I don't want you nearer than ten kilometers to me,” started Kaga.

Though, the loud conversation at the table beside them made them stop talking. It was now impossible not to hear every word said.

“You know the actress I got into a few months ago? She said in an interview that today is the first anniversary of her marriage. I didn’t even know that she has a husband.”

Kaga looked at Ishigami. Ishigami looked at the students. One of his past students looked at him. The situation got even worse when the other classmate starting talking too:

“Are you talking about Prime Minister’s daughter? I thought that she was just another case of a rich kid, but she is indeed very talented. Though, how old is she? Isn’t she too young to be married?”

“From what I know, she is twenty-three. Have no idea how old is the guy...”

The staring didn’t finish. Ishigami was the only one not smiling in this situation. Kaga had a sarcastic grin on his face. Kaga’s fiancee had a stressed and contorted one.

“Do you know who else is having an anniversary today?” asked Kurosawa, who sat at their table.

The former students of the Academy choked simultaneously. Of course, they knew the answer. All of them sensed the difference in Ishigami’s personality before he met MC, after they started dating, and, finally, after they married. Maybe for other people, he seemed like a cyborg, but they knew that he was even worse three years ago.

“Who?” wanted the answer the two new students.

“You have to guess. But I’ll tell you a hint. Is one of the instructors.”

“Kaga is engaged, not married. You and Instructor Shinonome go on too many blind dates. It has to be Instructor Soma or Goto. It’s definitely not Narita or Ishigami, taking into consideration that not a single person can find a heart in their chest...”

Kurosawa looked at Ishigami. No, everyone, except the two students, was looking at Ishigami.

“Don't you know what is MC's real surname?” asked Naruko.

The men shook their heads. Though, the next second, their mouth opened agape. In front of them appeared the beautiful girl they were just talking about. Before they could say a thing, the girl was at their table, hugging the Academy’s former top student.

The girl didn’t refuse her best friend’s hug and, for nearly two minutes, they were glued to each other. Though, after finally returning to her senses, Kaga’s fiancee started:

“I think there’s a person who needs your love today more than me.”

“I came here for him, but I don’t know where he is.”

Four hands pointed to the person she was searching for. In a second, MC was in her husband’s loving hands, hiding her face in his chest. Ishigami returned her hug and kissed the top of her head.

“Thank you for being near me all this time,” he whispered in her ear, not caring at all that all the eyes in the room were looking at them. Yet, a big part of them already knew about the relationship between the frightening cyborg and the most promising actress in the country.

After the cute moment between them finished, MC turned towards Kaga. On his face appeared a nearly visible smile. Mrs. Ishigami could turn all people into soft kittens. No wonder she melted even the toughest instructor’s heart.

“Don’t forget about our meeting. You did such a good job while helping to organize my wedding that I want to do everything I can to help you organize yours. Especially because the bride is my best friend. Hideki is also full of enthusiasm. Even if he doesn’t show it to you. He told me that a lot of times.”

Hideki, though, wasn’t as happy about this conversation as his wife. A faint shade of red appeared on his ears. Taking his wife’s hand, he made his way to the exit.

It took more than five minutes for people to start talking again.

“Is Ishigami married? No... Is Ishigami married to MC? How? When? Why? She could do so much better...” started one of the students.

Though, before he could continue talking non-sense, a heavy hand hit his nape.

“Shut up, if all you can say is asinine babble,” spitted Kaga through his teeth.

“You didn’t know that Kaga’s future wife is Ishigami’s wife’s best friend?” asked Kurosawa, grinning.

“I want to go to your wedding just to see how they’ll fight in the end...” whispered the other student, to the lieutenant girl in front of them.

“Good thing no one invited you there,” stated Soma, who appeared out of nowhere behind him.

“They love their girls too much to fight on their weddings,” added Shinonome.

The former instructors went away. The new instructors followed them closely. After some steps, Kaga started to walk slowly. So his loyal aide could catch him up. Taking her hand in his, he kissed her left ring finger and squeezed it lovingly.

[blubberquark]

FIXME: An Underrated Comment

Previously: Why Comment Code?

Sometimes you see comments in large or old code bases that say things like: “Optimised code, do not simplify“ or “Reference implementation, do not optimise“ or “Do not attempt the obvious bug fix“ or “We tried that and it did not work, so here is what we did instead”. Or you see comments that say “HACK:“ or “FIXME:“. Another fun one: “The above is equivalent to the following naive implementation.“

These comments all have one thing in common: You rarely see them in textbooks, and if you hand them in in your university homework, the tutors who grade your submission will know exactly what to deduct points for. Usually, homework problems are constructed with a specific solution in mind, so these kinds of comments are not needed.

If you turn in an assignment with a “HACK:” comment, you forsake your chance to get a perfect score, which you might have gotten if you kept your mouth shut. Similarly, some open source projects have automatic linters that do not accept patches and pull requests which contain “TODO:” and “FIXME:” comments. Personally, I think that’s terrible, not because you deduct points in homework assignments for honesty, but because you teach students to never write such comments. In the real world, a “FIXME:” comment can be very useful. Sure, outstanding tasks should preferably be tracked on the project’s bug tracker, not just in the source code, but if there is a problem in the source code that is known to the developers and clearly localised to a specific line in a specific file, there is no good reason not to comment that the code following the comment is broken in a known and predictable way. Closing the bug in the bug tracker won’t magically fix the code, but when somebody actually touches the code to fix the bug, that comment is right there to be deleted. A good compromise could be commenting the bug tracker ID in the source code. A perfect-world solution would be to just fix all the FIXMEs and do all the TODOs.

If you just comment what the code is supposed to do, not what it actually does, you may confuse both downstream users and future maintainers. Preventing developers from writing “FIXME:“ comments is a bit like preventing them from pushing code with failing test cases. It discourages people from writing test cases that actually find failures.

The “don’t even try“ kind of comment is the opposite of that - instead of warning the next developer of a potential problem, it asserts that there is nothing wrong with the code. It’s also frowned upon in educational contexts, because you are not supposed to write code that needs maintenance, or even code that looks like it does, but actually doesn’t. It’s much more dangerous if turns out to be wrong or obsolete.

But you know what’s really painful? When a new contributor looks at your open source project, and decides to refactor that one function to make it more readable - and then he gives up, because removing the goto statements, two out of seven total goto statements on the whole project, makes the code even more unreadable. Or he tries to simplify an unrolled, tight inner loop.

Like “TODO:“ and “FIXME:“ comments like these point to a deeper problem, but it sure is better to be honest about it than to sweep it under the rug. In an ideal world, you would have test cases and benchmarks to catch bugs introduced by overeager refactoring, as well as accidental de-optimisations. The biggest failure mode of these comments is establishing a zone of “code ownership“ or territoriality, discouraging others from improving or just understanding your code, maybe long after you left the project. If you tell future developers “do not touch“ or “you are not supposed to understand this“, then you better make sure that somebody in the project understands the code well enough to touch it.

At the end of the day, comments are there to help your fellow programmers to understand what they cannot understand from the code itself. That’s why you don’t comment “//increase x by one“.

On a higher level, comments can help your fellow programmers understand that the code does or does not look like it is supposed to, that your code does or does no do what it is supposed to do. From looking at the code alone, somebody might infer that a simple function does what the function name says, that it handles all the edge cases. By looking at the code alone, somebody might infer that a complicated function is a candidate for refactoring.

On order to communicate effectively, you should say with code what you can say with code, and use comments to say whatever important things are left unsaid.

Time to unlearn a bad habit from Introduction to Programming!

[shinjinsofthemultiverse]

SKais Headcanon: Job/Hobby

This Headcanon Concept is about Supreme Kais that probably did Jobs/Hobbies when going to Castle School. I don't think a job is required so some may just have hobbies in place of a job

Anat: Photography/blogging.

Pell: Fitness Instructor. Has done substitute PE teaching but prefers instructing in small groups versus classroom size numbers.

Eyre/Ea: Lab work mixed with getting papers published.

Kuru: Camera man/Video editing skills. Probably helped bailed out students that need to get a video project done for their assignments.

Ogma: Botanist/Gardening. Would be the one that likely has an aquaponics station set up.

Fuwa: Restaurant Manager as in the measures needed to keep the restaurant afloat, like checking for any mess/untidiness, cross-contamination, budgeting, etc.

Shin: Librarian, tutoring, field trip chaperoning.

Grand Supreme Kai: Chef [We're talking a kai who was life-linked to Beerus so he might as well be pretty solid in the food department for that reason alone]

West Supreme Kai: Varied extra-curricular stuff in castle school. Would probably be the one attending tutoring sessions to keep the grades where they should and still participate in extracurricular sports.

South Supreme Kai: Boxing with some mix of martial arts? Has some experience being an instructor and life guard at beach areas.

North Supreme Kai: Aquaculture related? (Basically the goto guy for boat trips and sight seeing the ocean)

Iru: Project management. He would be the one taking team lead roles in different projects in the job of choice.

Roh: ...I feel like out of the other kais, he would have most survival skill pointers in the outdoors. So, I would say an outdoor job/hobby that focuses on survival skill discovering/showcasing?

Gowasu: Zookeeper. Used to do videoblogging until he picked it up again as a Supreme Kai.

Khai: Used to be part of a band (drummer mainly but the band has cross trained and can switch around). He doesn't like bringing that topic up though.

Agu: Something related to rehabilitating/helping folks get back up on their feet after dealing with downs of life? Above and beyond sort of counselor/advisor.

[town-of-silent-poets]

People NEED Hobbies

[Author's Note: ENGL 1120/COMP II Final Project "Multimodal Argument" Draft.]

Okay, my title may sound fairly obvious, I know, but hear me out: I have proof! This proof is in the form of two peer-reviewed studies and a silly little book about weird hobbies.

In a study printed in The Journal of Experimental Education, Takayuki Goto of Osaka University studies the impact of utility-value intervention on student engagement. Students were assigned to write reflections about how the content learned in their classes is relevant and useful to their goals and daily lives outside of school. The study found that those who engaged in the utility-value intervention stayed engaged with their classes and coursework throughout the semester and turned in more assignments, while those without the intervention became less engaged and submitted less of their assignments.

Now, that is very cool and very smart. How many people go to school or a job and think: "What is this going to do for me besides a degree/money?" Besides the upkeep of daily basics needed to sustain life, what is the point of putting in so much effort? Losing sight of our goals and overall happiness can happen in these situations. Yet, knowing that external factors can give value to monotonous tasks and make them easier to complete feels enlightening. Heck, how many people started taking classes or going to a job because there was something they wanted? I, myself, do both, because there's something I want to do in life that college and a job will help me achieve. The work is hard and repetitive, but knowing that a goal, be it a future career or buying something for myself, can be obtained and maybe even bettered by my efforts makes it worth doing far more.

That's not all I found, either. I did say there were two studies.

In the Journal of Applied Research in Intellectual Disabilities, Holli M. Holmes and W. Ben Mortenson published a study on the quality of life for people with intellectual disabilities. In order to conduct this study, 19 people with intellectual disabilities were consulted. They came together in groups to discuss the things that had positive and negative impacts on their lives. The conclusion for the positives was that support, well-being, activities, and hobbies were the key factors to the improvement of quality of life.

[ https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/epdf/10.1111/jar.13280 ]

Once again, I find this study fascinating as well. Of all the things that can help improve people's lives, having something to do counts for half of the overall conclusion. If this study were to be expanded to more than 19 people, I believe that this ratio would hardly change, even if those without intellectual disabilities were to be included in the study or studied separately. How many people can honestly say that they are okay with doing nothing? This doesn't mean sitting and looking at social media or reading or watching a movie, because, in all of those instances, you are still doing an activity. This is more about when you are surrounded by activity happening and you cannot engage with it despite wanting to. To do nothing goes against being alive, and being held back from doing something, anything, makes being alive quite hard.

Well, that brings me to my very last point: a silly little book about weird hobbies.

Michael Canfeild brings together a list of diverse and seemingly strange hobbies in his book America’s Oddest Hobbies. From dog grooming to bug fighting and from mooing to eggshell carving, there is a wide range of examples of what hobbies can entail.

As much as some of these examples might seem odd and not up your alley, that doesn't mean there isn't something out there just for you. Something that might seem weird to others, too. There are a lot of non-traditional hobbies, as well as hobbies that don't seem like hobbies. Some hobbies can also consume more or less time and/or money as well. Maintaining a social media account or ranking streaks in video games count as hobbies. Collecting items found on the ground such as rocks or lost trinkets can work, too, as something you do passively as you walk down a road or hallway. Taking pieces of plants and gluing them together on a canvas into a natural collage reminisce of a 3D painting. Dressing in different colors for specific days of the week or always wearing something themed for obscure holidays. Honestly, the list could go all. Big or small, proffitable or not, hobbies like these can make living life better. Who knows, maybe if you are interested in profit and put yourself into doing well, others could see your work, take interest, and be open to the ide of buying what you do.

So, over all, my point stands strong. People need hobbies, and my proof sits in two studies and a silly little book. Improve your school and work life, improve your life over all, and go get yourself your own hobby. I know I have. Mine? I like to intentionally and perfectly tie a game of checkers without anyone losing any pieces. :D

[aluthra674]

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[kayteewritessteve]

Beautifully Unfinished - 4/8

Description: One foolish outburst, one moment of weakness at the worst possible time, and everything goes up in smoke. Who knew finally voicing your true, deep-rooted feelings, would lead to the complete destruction of your most cherished friendship?

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 3,120 ish.

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: PG.

Warnings: Curse words. Lots of angst. But if you’ve read my stories before, then you know how this will end.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

College.

You are standing alone, drink in hand, surrounded by loud drunk college students, as music that is just far too loud pounds in your ears. This is the night, the one you’ve been dreading for the last few days. Ever since you’d waltzed into Bucky and Steve’s dorm at the beginning of the week and learned the news.

The news that now had you standing here, miserable and on the verge of crying more and more with every passing second. With every moment longer that he doesn’t show up, that he doesn’t walk through those doors and straight towards you, like he always did.

At that time when you’d walked into their room, you’d halted your steps instantly on the threshold as you’d slowly glanced around and noticed the normally pristine dorm room, was then in fact covered—almost entirely—in clothes. The floors, the beds, and even the desks, were all piled high in articles of clothing.

Then your sight had finally landed on Bucky, who was sitting in his desk chair, with his focus entirely on the phone grasped in his hand. He’d looked up and noticed you, giving you a small hesitant smile before you’d heard a shuffling noise in the bathroom beside you. The one to the right, just inside their dorm room door.

You’d glanced at the door, then back to Bucky, seeing that he was staring pointedly yet hesitantly at the bathroom door.

“Where’s Steve?” You’d asked as you’d shut the door to the hall, having instantly noticed the absence of your other best friend.

For a moment it had looked like Bucky was frowning, though he’d quickly corrected his features to a neutral expression, and had opened his mouth to answer you. But the bathroom door flying open had halted his words, you’d snapped your eyes to the door in question and watched as Steve exited. Though he hadn’t made it far as the second he noticed you, he froze completely.

“Y/N?” He’d asked, sounding confused and slightly apprehensive. Which at the time had been odd, for sure.

“The one and only,” you’d replied before glancing around and adding, “Ah, whatcha guys doing?”

You’d then made your way over to Steve's desk chair to take a seat, as it was the only available place to sit, thanks to the explosion of clothes everywhere else. But after a few moments of neither guy uttering so much as a word, you’d become instantly nervous and had glanced between your two best friends again. “Guys? Why are you both acting so damn weird?”

“Steve has a date,” Bucky had then blurted out, causing a deep sigh to rip from somewhere low within Steve’s chest.

“What?” You’d quickly asked, your eyes had then snapped to Steve watching as he finally slowly exited the bathroom and moved towards the full length mirror on the wall by his bed. “You have a date?”

“Ah yeah,” he’d answered vaguely as he’d adjusted this collar, and just then you’d noticed his black slacks and dark blue button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “It’s nothing major.”

“With who?” You’d started then had quickly added, “when?”

“Hailey. A girl from Steve’s Art History class, and Saturday,” Bucky had answered for the blonde, after an awkward moment of no one actually talking.

“This Saturday?” You’d questioned, your eyes having widened slightly.

Bucky nodded his head slowly, “Yeah.”

“Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?” You’d asked the room, figuring Steve was going to continue to be silent, and that Bucky would probably continue to answer for him. “And what about our plans to goto that frat party together on Saturday?”

However the blonde had ended up surprising you when he actually answered the question himself. “It wasn’t intentional, Y/N. I’m sorry, it just slipped my mind.” He had then turned to look at you both, “but since you’re here now, I could desperately use your help picking out an outfit for it.” He had then given you his signature puppy dog eyes, the ones you could never say no to, as he raised his arms out, “what do you think of this one?”

Bucky had scoffed then, “what, my help not good enough, Punk?”

And Steve had then completely ignored the brunette’s question in another Classic Steve gesture. Which normally would have caused you to laugh at their predictable behaviour, but not that time. No, your heart had slowly started to feel weighted down, you’d felt like you couldn’t get air into your lungs, like you were about to drown in your pain and emotions. All you’d been able to do was force that classic fake smile onto your lips and nod your head in answer.

And thank God for years of friendship, because just those two small gestures alone were able enough to convey your approval of his outfit choice. It was the exact outfit you’d have wanted him to wear to a date with you, after all, so yeah, it was a great choice. Sadly.

He had nodded once before glancing back at the mirror for a few more seconds, then heading back to the bathroom to most likely change out of the outfit. Your eyes had then drifted down to the floor, feeling sick to your stomach and like you were about to burst into tears at any moment.

“Y/N?” Bucky had softly asked, after a moment of silence, and you had turned to see the overwhelming compassion and sorrow pooling in his light blue orbs, and that almost caused your carefully taped together exterior to break. “Are you okay, Doll?”

You’d swallowed down the fast growing lump in your throat then had finally managed to find your voice. Though you had realized instantly that it was shaky at best. “Yeah,” you’d nodded quickly, “yeah, of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” You’d asked rhetorically as you’d abruptly stood up. “I’m going to head out now. Got lots of assignments to finish and what not. I’ll catch you guys later,” you’d then damn near bolted to the door.

“You’re leaving already?” Bucky had stood up as well, his voice had halted you at the door, your hand resting on the handle. “But you just got here?”

“Ah yeah,” you’d nodded, not turning back to look at him as you knew he’d be able to tell you were about to cry. “I hadn’t heard from you guys all day, so I just wanted to make sure you were both still alive and breathing,” you’d forced a fake chuckle at your words. Then turned the handle and opened the door before Bucky could reply to that, “tell Steve I said bye.”

And with that you’d exited the room and had quickly made your way back to your own dorm. Instantly thankful your roommate wasn’t there, and wouldn’t be back all night as she’d be sleeping at her boyfriend's place.

You’d then fallen fully clothed into bed and promptly began to bawl your eyes out upon feeling the quiet comfort of your duvet wrapped around you. You’d been planning to finally tell Steve about your feelings the night before the party on Saturday, you had it all worked out in your head. You were going to tell him after class, as Bucky had a later class than Steve and yourself on Fridays. So Steve would have been alone in his dorm and you were going to use that to your advantage.

Yeah, you should have said something sooner. And yeah, the timing obviously wasn’t the best. But you’d been working up the courage for years, you figured if it went well, that you could both attend the weekend party together. Like together, together. And if it didn’t go well, then well, ya know, you could go to the party anyways, and just drown yourself in booze to ignore the upset. Not your smartest idea, but something had finally snapped inside you, and you couldn’t pretend to just be only his friend anymore.

It was supposed to be now or never, it was supposed to finally be your time to let it all out. You’d face the outcome and possible fallout head on, because pretending wasn’t an option anymore. Going on lying about your true feelings towards your tall, blonde best friend wasn’t cutting it anymore. Though in that exact moment, you realized that you’d have to continue lying and pretending about it. You’d waited too long, and missed your window. At least for now, at least until they broke up and Steve was once again single.

Though you’d never wish that upon him or his relationship, in the end you just wanted him to be happy, regardless of your own feelings. Regardless of if his happiness with another caused you immense heartache. He was your best friend, the love of your life, and if anyone deserved the whole world, it was him.

Back in the present, you take a sip of the strong mixed drink in your hand and glance around the room again. Maybe you’d missed him coming in? Maybe he was here and was just making a drink? You know that’s highly unlikely as you’ve been watching the front door like a hawk, but the thought that maybe he’s managed to sneak in without your knowledge brings you a little joy. Whilst also slightly quelling the immense numbness and sorrow that has set up shop within you and your heart all week.

Bucky is here somewhere, you both had arrived together, as Steve was still at his date when it was time to head to the party. He had hovered around you for the beginning of the night, making you feel even more suffocated. It was around the 34th time that Bucky had asked if you were okay that you’d finally snapped a little, and told him he didn’t have to babysit you and to go enjoy himself. That you just didn’t feel well and thought you might be coming down with something.

He obviously knew you were full of shit, and didn’t even attempt to wipe the unconvinced look off his face. But then maybe he saw your pleading eyes, the ones that said you just really needed a moment alone, because he’d then just nodded, saying he was going to play some beer pong and to come find him if you needed him. Or if you started to feel worse and wanted to leave, he was all about the buddy system. But you were as well, so it worked.

You’d agreed to come find him in a little while, and then after he gave you a full once over he finally walked off and left you be.

You haven’t so much as moved a muscle since he left, finding yourself completely rooted to the floor. You glance down, seeing that your drink is almost finished, meaning you’ll need to move if you want to continue drowning your sorrows. But you can’t bring yourself to do that, you don’t want to miss Steve’s arrival.

You pull out your phone and check to see if he has texted you, but there is nothing, no messages. You are about to tuck it back away, but then you notice that it’s now past midnight and still no sign of Steve.

Clearly his date has gone well, you think bitterly and then down the last of your drink. Yes, you know you should be happy for him, that you should be excited that he found someone. But in this moment, both those emotions are impossible to evoke within you.

In this moment, you want to be upset, to be miserable about this. In a few days, after you’ve cried every tear within your body, then and only then, will you force yourself to be okay with this. To get over this as best you can.

But for now, you are going to happily be a miserable wench about this all. Because Goddamnit! You are allowed to be sad about the love of your life going on a date. You just aren’t allowed to let it fully ruin you, nor let it interfere with your day to day life, or your friendships. So you have until Tuesday to be a wreck, being that it’s a long weekend, and then you need to pull yourself together. You need to force yourself to hold your head high and keep moving forward.

You place the empty red solo cup down on the table beside you and then fire off a text to Bucky. ‘Any word from our Stevie boy yet? Do we know how the date went?’

*ping* 1 new text from The Buckinator. ‘How are you feeling? I was actually just about to come find you. And yeah, he just texted me and said he wasn’t going to be able to make it tonight. Where you at?”

You sigh, tears starting to prickle your eyes as you bring up your Uber app. You quickly order a car and then fire a reply off to Bucky. ‘Glad to hear it. And I’m okay, just really tired. I’m gunna head out, and don’t worry Dad, I just ordered an Uber for myself.’

*ping* ‘Okay, I’ll meet you out front.’

‘It’s okay Buck, you stay and enjoy yourself 😉 don’t think I missed that blonde that’s been checking you out all night, go fucking talk to her, you puss, and I’ll message you once I get home safe.’

*ping* ‘What blonde? 😜 And you fucking better or I’ll be showing up at your door in an hour to make sure you’re home and alive.’

‘Don’t play that game with me, James, we both know you’ve been checking her out too. And that won’t be necessary, I always text, unlike some people 🙄.’

You tuck your phone away and make your way to the front door. You pull on your jacket and head outside to wait for your Uber, staying on the lit porch until it arrives. You hear your phone ping knowing it’s just Bucky replying, so you ignore it, you’ll message him once your safety back in your room.

The Uber ride is quick, and before you know it you are collapsing onto your bed. Thankful that your roommate is once again at her boyfriends for the night. You fire off a text to Bucky, telling him you are home and then you build a duvet cocoon around yourself and pathetically cry yourself to sleep. Again, for the millionth time.

Who knew love could hurt so much?

You end up spending the whole rest of the long weekend in bed, hearing your roommate coming and going periodically throughout the two days. She had asked if you were okay or if you needed anything whenever she was around, but you’d lie, saying you were just sick and didn’t need anything.

Bucky had texted you a bunch on Sunday morning, and you’d told him the same excuse as your roommate. He had then tried to come check up on you right after, but your door was locked and you just pretended you were asleep.

Later that night you talked to him over text for a few minutes, answering over and over again that you were okay, just sick, not dying, and that you didn’t need him to bring anything as you were fully stocked on cold meds. You then informed him you planned to sleep the rest of the weekend away in an attempt to be okay by Tuesday. It felt bad lying to him, but you just needed this time alone, to gather your thoughts, and collect your emotions. You’d vowed to make this up to him, even if he didn’t know that you were doing it.

Then Monday, all Buck did was text you here and there to see how you were feeling, but he didn’t try to visit again. You figured he knew the real reason for your sudden ‘illness’ and was respecting your need to be alone physically, yet refused to allow you to be alone mentally. Which was perfect, and reminded you again that he well and truly got you, 100%.

And then Steve, oh Steve. Well he had texted you Sunday morning, and even though you wanted more than anything to just ignore his messages, to pretend Saturday night hadn’t happened, you couldn’t. And what’s worse is your morbid curiosity had almost eaten you alive, and forced you to ask how his date had gone.

Which he had clearly attempted to downplay his response to that, but you called him out on it instantly. As even over text, you could read Steve like a book, and he always sucked at hiding shit from you. But once you’d called him out on it, you’d instantly regretted that choice once he’d started to basically gush about how amazing the date was. About how they just clicked, instantly, and now had plans for a second date and hopefully—his word not yours—that date would only lead to more in the future. And your heart only cracked more after hearing all of that, and it only caused you to cry all over again.

Then on Sunday night Steve had also tried to come check up on you, probably once Bucky had mentioned you were ‘sick’, but just as you had with your other best friend, you ignored the knocks on your door and pretended to be passed out, or not home. Either or really, whichever he thought, as your silence had worked because he had left after a while of trying.

In that moment, you were thankful for the physical representation of the wall between your feelings and the world around you. The door acting much like the mental wall you had placed around yourself. Or at least the one that was normally there, but was under construction at the moment. You were in the process of trying to reconstruct it around you, once again. That figurative wall was the only thing getting you through, was the one thing protecting yourself and keeping your friendship safe and intact.

That wall that you hid yourself behind, the one you pretended didn’t exist to the world, but were secretly so thankful for. Because without it, your feelings would have flowed out all willy nilly, like some damn word vomit, and that, that would only stand to destroy everything. Feelings always complicate things, they also normally ruin things, and that is not an option for you now.

And hush now, don't cry, build your walls high. And don't he dare come creeping in.

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

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[fiction-in-my-blood]

Switching Sides: Part 2 (HLITF)

Aaaannndddd once again I would LOVE to thank my girl @theshove for being my editor in chief and making my writing reach a HIGHER level I could never reach without your help. Thank you so much for making sense of my poorly grammar-ed sentences haha. 

Also, if anyone possibly wants to get on a tag list I’d be happy to make one 

👉👈

If you wanna catch up, Part 1 is right here! Happy reading :)

Premise: Growing up in a life of crime in a Japanese mafia, Atsuko Motomori has seen enough injustice to last her a lifetime. To try and give back to the universe her family has taken so much from, she dreams of being a detective from a young age. Her twin, sharing her disgust for her father and many uncles, just wants an ordinary life away from the crime, paing and suffering. Instead, she wants to be in the spotlight with the soft notes she makes with her cello. In their escape of 2015, on their coming of age birthday, they must split ways, never to be together ever again. If one was found, they didn’t want the other dragged down with them. Atsuko, having changed her name and appearance as best she can without a scalpel, sets off to start her life of car chases and arrests.

Four years in a seemingly dead-end police station in the middle of nowhere, being passed over time after time for promotion, Atsuko finally gets a shot at her dream, having been sent to an academy for the best candidates in the country by her boss who had always kept an eye out for her. After discovering her boss may have made her bite off more than she could chew, Atsuko must become the slave of a dominating instructor!? Who so just happens to be the captain of the most famous police unit in Japan? Not to mention a total knockout! Will Atsuko finally achieve her dream? Or will her new instructor put her through the wringer?

Warnings: Language, reference to sexual activity/forceful nature.

~~~~~~

‘A servant? Did he confuse that with a full-time aid?’ I tried to reason with his wording of my job title. As the room was lit by the setting sun and filters out into the corridor, I stood there in silence, thinking about what I'd just gotten myself into.

"Motomori, who will you partner with?" Ishigami closed the book of names and held it under his arm, keeping a close eye on how I was reacting. Letting my eyes meet each one of the detectives' before me, I took in a deep breath to calm my nerves. 

"Instructor Kaga, please," I announced. Although he seemed the most stern out of all the men, I took that as a sign of someone worn away by his experience. Which only meant there was more to learn from him. Right?

The announcement of my choice of instructor led Shinonome to laugh at my bravado. "Now that's something. Choosing Hyogo is pretty fitting for our little overachiever." The youngest instructor couldn't help but sound amused as the man I had chosen showed a concerned expression. As he looked me up and down, I stood with more confidence than I really had. 

After the Captain's silent review of me, Ishigami progressed through the other pairings. I glanced at Kaga and saw him taking a phone call. "Yeah... I'll take care of it." With his back turned to me, I only heard a minuscule amount of the conversation. 

"Kaga, you'll be going after this person." When the other Captain tried to hand over a folder, which I was sure had the case we should be working on inside, Kaga continued his conversation while pointing in my direction. He told Ishigami to give me the folder holding the information we'd need for the undercover assignment. 

"These are documents for the instructor." Ishigami frowned, obviously tired of Kaga's dismissiveness. Kaga begrudgingly took the folder before thrusting it into my chest. 

"Read it." He demanded and then finished his phone call. 

"I'm sure you understand, but-" Ishigami was cut off by Kaga crossing his arms. 

"I understand perfectly well." His mood seemed to worsen as the two talked. They continued to bicker as the rest of the instructors watched. I'm sure it was difficult to butt in on the Captains' discussions. 

"Squad leaders should get along..." Shinonome frowned as we watched, me not knowing what else to do except just stand there. 

"These two will go as far as a fistfight." Instructor Soma's comment made me worry that all the expensive equipment in this room would be damaged if someone didn't intervene soon enough. When Soma directed a question to Goto to see if he agreed, the messy-haired man just stood there in silence. 

"I can hear all of you." Kaga scowled as he took a cigarette out of his suit pocket. I knew smoking wasn't allowed in the building, having seen the signs next to most of the doorways, however I decided it best not to make him aware. ‘I mean, he has worked here longer than me.’

‘He is the freaking instructor, Atsuko.’ The voice in my head made me want to metaphorically face-palm. It was clear just by the way the instructor stood he didn’t care much for rules or regulations. 

"Don't get in my way." As he walked towards the door, Kaga made what sounded like a threat to me. 

"Didn't even think about it." I forced a smile, knowing full well he would likely trample over me if I took even a step out of line. If I was going to learn from this man, I would have to watch what he did instead of asking questions. 

"What're you standing around for? Come." Turning back to where I had been standing, I woke myself up from the pit of despair I had thrown myself into. 

‘What did you think was going to happen?’ I quickly followed as he gestured me over with a jerk of his head. 

~~~~~~

Sitting in the Captain's car, I couldn't help but feel anxious with the silence that thickened the air. According to the file given to us by Ishigami, we had to infiltrate a beach bar... But we were heading in the opposite direction from the sea. We were driving downtown. 

"Umm, sir, the file says the destination is-" Kaga, once again, cutting somebody off mid sentence. 

"Shut up," he spat, taking me aback with how rude he was. 

‘I guess that ‘scum’ comment wasn't too out of character for him, then’ I thought, stricken into silence but sighing on the inside. I turned to gaze out the window, praying that I could get through the day without being caught out for being inferior to what my file suggested. 

~~~~~~

When we stopped, I found myself inside a love hotel. My heart raced with worry, recognising the name as a brand my father ran when I was still living at home. He was a gang leader. With a strong mafia at that. He had his dirty little fingers in every industry that had some form of shady business going on. It's what made me hate him so much. The things he did, the things he made me watch, it's what made me want to become a detective. I wanted to pay the universe back for all the bad stuff he had done, and maybe one day find the evidence to arrest him. God knows, the police he had under his claws and henchmen doing his dirty work had delayed that for long enough. 

We made our way to the room booked for us, or, more aptly, for Kaga. Meanwhile, I tried to hide my face from the receptionist as discreetly as I could, not wanting them to somehow recognise me. Even though I did my makeup differently from when I was younger, had dyed my hair black from its original brown, dressed differently and even held myself differently, there wasn't much else I could do to change my appearance without making it trackable. I couldn't get surgery because then I would be in the government system; I know, somehow, they'd be able to track me, even if the profile I had now was completely different. 

"Hey, um... What're we doing here?"  I asked as I closed the door behind me, the eeriness of the red room making my eyes dart around for any hidden cameras or listening devices. I remembered my father telling me about all the politicians he had on tape and all the people he’d bribed with that information.

"I'm pretty sure I said shut up." Kaga spat, also inspecting the room. I frowned at his rudeness and flipped the switch that turned on the electricity for the room. All the lights went out, causing Kaga to spin around and glare at me in the darkness.

"Don't you know what your position is? Don't interfere." His frown deepened as he stormed back to where I was standing. He was obviously offended I had turned off the lights. 

"Love hotels are famous for secret cameras. They're turned on when the electricity switch is flipped. I thought you wouldn't want to risk getting caught." I smiled up to him with a spiteful thought hidden behind it. ‘This guy…’

Probably annoyed with how much sense my statement made, Kaga turned back to the centre of the room. ‘Is he really that easily annoyed?’ I chuckled to myself, not wanting to be reprimanded for intentionally frustrating my instructor.

The two of us were now alone in a dark room with nothing but a bed and mirrors on the ceiling. Not to mention a love hotel. I was painfully aware of what the room represented and everything that had ever happened in it due to the stillness in the air with the air-con off. Memories of what my father encouraged my sister and I to do in our youth flashed back, causing me to shake them out of my head. 

"Why're you so nervous?" Sitting on the large bed, Kaga raised his brow at me while I stood awkwardly away from him. I could see a concerned look on the Captain's face as he brought me back to earth. I could tell he wasn't concerned about my feelings, but rather about how naive and stupid I must seem. I didn't want to walk any further into the establishment than I had to, so I stuck my ground. 

"N-No reason." I grew shy, knowing I had no connection to my past life on my file and not wanting him to have a clue to think I would. 

"Oh?" A mischievous grin grew on my instructor's face and my senses heightened. With that, Kaga grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me down onto the bed aggressively. Even though he was only holding my wrist, I struggled to move. My heart began to race in fear of what he was trying to do. Growing up with the most erratic people as guardians, I didn't want to guess what his plan was. 

"This morning was totally screwed up, thanks to you." He frowned down at me, that same demeaning look conveyed on his surprisingly handsome face. You would never guess his personality was as cruel as he was if it wasn't for the eternal crease between his brows. Feeling the anxiousness of an expected punishment, my breath gets caught in my throat. 

"How do you plan on making it up to me?" His grin returned as he held my wrists harder than necessary. Despite the smirk, his eyes were cold and expressionless. There was no way I was going to allow what he was insinuating to happen, so I pushed against his hands with all my might while somehow snaking my foot high enough to push on his stomach. 

However, before I could attempt to catapult him off, he covered my mouth with his hand. I looked at him like he was crazy, but because I hadn’t done much training lately, I couldn’t push him off me.

"Don't talk." He hissed, rising up from being inches away from my face. Then, I saw him pull something from my ear. It was an earpiece, making me wonder when he was able to put it there, not to mention without my knowing it was there. "This will make for a huge amount of evidence." He explained to himself. My mind, already in disarray, went into a confusion like no other. "It was worth the effort of getting it on." He looked at me suggestively as I sat up with unsure thoughts. 

‘So... He didn't lead me here for something worse?’ My brows furrowed as I thought back to the moments leading up to this, embarrassed and angry that I thought it would come to that. It was concerning to see his demeanour change from what I just saw to the victorious look on his face. He looked down at me, still sitting on the bed with a dejected expression, seemingly noticing my staring. 

"What're you just sitting there for?" He laughed at my appearance, my apprehension rising due to how laid back he was. Maybe it was because of where I was, but I was more sensitive to the casual restriction he just put me in. I looked away, not wanting to say something I'd regret. 

Then, I felt him leaning over me and I quickly turned my gaze back to him. I panicked. His face was nearer than I expected it to be as he jerked forward. I jumped back, the memories of intimidation tactics used on me before resurfacing from my past. 

"Did you really think I was being serious earlier?" He almost laughed at the notion. "Unfortunately for you, I don't have any problems with women." He inched closer again and it took everything in my being to not smack that pretty face of his. If I assaulted a detective, I would be expelled from the academy and likely arrested. Not to mention the scene it would cause being dragged out of here. "I'm not so desperate that I'd go after some inexperienced brat." He smirked before getting up from the bed, talking to me like I was the idiot. 

"What did you bring me here for..." Having had the time to understand that I would be safe and de-escalate my anger, I quickly regathered myself and straightened my back. "...If not for my training?" Looking at his suited back, I started to think back to why I was actually here. 

"I've got more important things to do than that useless nonsense." He explained spitefully. 

‘Then why become an instructor?’ I scowled to myself, knowing full well this man had no intention of teaching anyone anything. 

"Well, thanks to you so boldly choosing me, I pulled off some undercover work." He turned with another victorious smile. I was frozen silent, not knowing what would come out of this intimidating man's mouth next. Then, he pulled out his cellphone. 

"It's me. Yeah... the bug was a success. I've got enough evidence, so I'm withdrawing. You keep on going, sneak in and stay on the guy's tail." When he ended the call with his subordinate, the Captain quickly headed for the door. I was still frozen, trying to calm my racing heart from the panic I was in before.

"What're you doing?" Kaga turned back to me. "Staying?" My gaze darted up at the horrifying idea. 

"If you are, go search the room next door. Make sure you come back here." At the mere notion of real detective work,. Before I could say a thing, the frowning returned. 

"Too bad. You're not ready." The curt response was a deep cut to my confidence. Searching a room for anything fishy was probably one of the only things I came to the academy being able to do. But, before I could speak my piece, Kaga turned and left. 

~~~~~~

By that night, the long, rigorous day had completely worn me out; I'm sure my classmates also fared the same. I arrived at the dorms the academy made us stay in and threw myself onto my couch. ‘Could Kaga's mission possibly be for an investigation on my father?’ I thought back to where the excursion took place and the idea made my heart flutter. For years I had wished and prayed for retribution for all the wrong-doings my father and his goons had accomplished. The thought of his vicious crimes being aired out like dirty laundry brought a smile to my weary face. 

Getting off the comfortable couch, I retrieved a box from under my bed. It was small and light; there wasn't much in it. I opened it to find loads of old photographs. Some of them were heartwarming: my twin sister and I playing around or hugging each other. 

But, I’d only put them in there to hide what I was really storing: Pictures of crime scenes my father had left out in our living room or secluded garden. I once caught him in the act; that photo was in there too. I had an old tie with blood on it. A passport with a different identity than I had registered into the academy with. My mother's ring was knocking around in there somewhere. 

I hardly knew my mother. There are no pictures of us together and no one talked about her after she left us. The ‘family’. She couldn't take what my father and his ‘brothers’ did any longer and ran away, leaving her two daughters behind. I'm pretty sure she's dead now. Otherwise my father would have found her at some point. 

I came to realise that soon before my 18th birthday that my father didn't really care about us; he just wanted a lineage. So, I somehow convinced my sister to run with me. I assured her that I had a plan that would get us the lives we wanted for a little while. I had trained to go on the run; my father taught me all the techniques the cops used to track fugitives. That, along with a little help from a friend from my youth judo club, was all I needed to get us new identities and places to live. It wasn't easy at first, having to split from the person you had literally been with since birth. But, it was the only way to ensure one of us would be safe if the other was caught. 

It was also difficult to work up a good enough resume to get myself into the police force. The name Atsuko Motomori had never existed before four years ago. It was risky to lie about the qualifications I had when, in my past life, I never gained any. I was homeschooled to ensure I wouldn't be coaxed away by true, lawful policemen investigating my father or my ‘uncles’.

Looking through these memories and reliving my awful excuse for a childhood, I happily remembered why I was condemning myself to this place and people like Captain Kaga. I wanted to make sure my sister and I would be safe. And the only way I could do that was by locking them all up for the rest of their lives.

As I mulled over the bloody scenes within the box, I heard a knock at my door. I jumped, not used to company, and knocked the box off my lap. 

"Crap!" I whispered to myself, trying to clear everything away as quickly as possible. 

"Who is it?" I called out after collecting most of the contents, having double-checked the area for any compromising pictures. 

"Atsuko~! I come with food!" The cheery voice of my only female ally chimsed from the other side of the door. 

"Naruko, what're you doing here?" I questioned while opening the door. The food she was trying to bribe me with was a pack of potato chips and a soda from the vending machines downstairs. 

"I'm pooped, so I thought you might be even more worse off." The bubbly attitude helped her push herself into my dorm room. 

"You're not wrong there." Happy to have some form of womanly friendship after so many years of trying to keep to myself, I lazily followed her to the couch. 

"So how was it with the Satan reincarnate?" She giggled to herself, lowering her voice at the insulting part of her question. Maybe she feared he would hear her. I wouldn't be surprised if they had us under surveillance to see what we did after hours. Or if the Captain had supersonic, selective hearing. 

"It was... an experience." Trying to keep up my half of the deal I made with my instructor, I put on a tired smile. Kaga promised to pass me if I didn't tell anyone he had bunked the undercover training. 

"You want a drink? I think I've got some tea somewhere." Quickly attempting to change the subject, I wandered off to the small kitchenette in the corner of my room. 

As I prepared the beverages, Naruko spoke up out of nowhere. 

"Oh, Atsuko, what's this?" She called out and my blood ran cold. ‘Did I miss a picture? Was it something possibly incriminating?’ Wild thoughts circulated my brain at the possibility of getting caught. Having gory images of dead men stored away in my room wouldn't be easily explained. 

Hesitantly, I turned with a questioning smile, just waiting for her to let out some form of horror or disgust. Instead, though, I found her looking at an old polaroid photo with a loving smile. 

"You didn't tell me you had a sister!" She asked and I cocked my head, glancing at the image she waved at me. It was of my sister and I, building sandcastles on a beach when we were kids. My heart stopped as I remembered the scene.

That picture was of the day before my mother left. She had somehow convinced my father to let her take us out- which was a strange occurrence. Even if my father wasn't overbearing, which he definitely was, she didn't like going out much. It was summer and hot, and we would only annoy him, being locked in the house. I'm pretty sure I remembered at least three bodyguards surrounding our section of the sand, though.

I smiled at the painful memory, a happy one buried underneath so much hurt, and looked at the brown-haired girl with two short pigtails, dressed in a pink bathing suit. I don't think I've had a smile that big on my face in a long time. 

"Well, I, uh..." Not knowing how to respond, I just made noises. 

"She must be so proud of you for making it into this academy." She laughed and the statement only hurt me. 

"She's not really in my life anymore." I smiled sadly sitting next to her so I could look at the picture more in-depth. I could see a sliver of a man in a suit to the left of the picture's edge, closest to where I was, and something was slightly poking out of his waistband. To Naruko, it probably looked like a shadow of a tree or something less sinister than what it was, but it was likely one of the bodyguards with a gun hidden away. 

"O-Oh, I'm sorry, Atsuko." Naruko sounded so sad to hear I wasn't in contact with my sister anymore. We did look really happy in that picture. 

"Nah, it's alright. That's just how life goes." I took the picture from her and looked at it for a bit longer, concentrating more on my sister's face, even though it was an exact replica of mine, before slipping it through the crack between the lid of the box and the box itself. I didn't want my new friend catching a glimpse of anything in there.

"You sound so wise," Naruko giggled, maybe trying to help me feel happier again and lighten the mood.

"You make me sound like an old man," I laughed, jokingly hitting her arm like I was offended. 

"You shouldn't say such wistful things then." She laughed back as I headed back to the kettle to pour us some tea. 

We chatted for a little longer, mainly about what her training had consisted of, before Naruko went back to her room. Once she was gone, I sighed, glad that the picture she had found underneath my coffee table wasn't anything more frightening. Sliding the small box back under my bed, I began getting ready for a good night's rest. 

~~~~~~

Waking up the next day was... rough. Staying up later, thanks to Naruko, and the subconscious worry I’d because of what happened at the love hotel, I’d probably only got a few hours of sleep. 

‘Right, I have to get today right, at least’, I told myself, throwing my legs over the side of my bed. Ishigami already had it in for me because of the train situation - I'm sure all of the special instructors did - but I wasn't going to let that stop me from doing my best. ‘For us.’ Thinking back to the picture that had been found on my floor, I used that as encouragement to continue my life as though nothing had happened.

~~~~~~

In my first class, I could see Naruko already sitting down. She commented on how she hadn't seen me in the cafeteria for breakfast. "I wonder whose fault that is?" I playfully blamed her for making me wake up late. As we continued to chat mindlessly, I couldn’t help but think back to the limited facilities the academy had for women. ‘Well, at least the food and living quarters are good.’ 

"The real lectures are finally going to start today." Likely having it easier than I had yesterday, Naruko had a fire of ambition in her eyes. Luckily, our first class was in the classroom and not martial arts training, otherwise her passion might hurt someone. Our lectures consisted of a wide range of expert topics ranging from using tracking equipment to how to de-escalate a situation to undercover work. 

As we discussed what we would be studying here, the memory of how I was handled yesterday manifested on my wrists. I rubbed them, trying to get rid of the feeling of Kaga's hands. 

"Something wrong?" Noticing my anxiousness, Naruko peered into my face. As I told her “I’m fine”, she remembered how we never talked about my experiences yesterday. 

"I'm pretty sure I passed. If not, I don't think I'd still be here." I laughed off the subject, knowing how strict the instructors seemed to my friend. 

"Did you hear? Students who failed were severely punished." An uneasy expression laid itself on Naruko's face and I also started to feel sympathy for those that weren't as lucky as us. As we wondered about what the punishments were, Naruko got that grin she’d had during the ceremony yesterday. 

"I wonder what kind of punishment I would have gotten." The excited aura she was giving off only made a chill run down my back thinking about how much worse the Captain could be.

Intruding on my thoughts, the instructor delivering our lecture walked in and started the lesson. When it was over, I rushed to change into the attire I would need for our next bout of training on the grounds.

~~~~~~

As Naruko and I arrived on the pitch, everyone was lined up in front of Instructor Soma. He frowned at us, stating how late we were. "Sorry about that, Instructor. We took too long in the shower room." Maybe too casual with the man because of his usual laid back aura, we both bowed deeply. 

"Yes, there's no women's locker room, is there?" A small smile finally returned to his face as we rose again. "It's the first time, so I'll go easy on you. But, I won't go easy on you next time." Even though he looked kind, anyone could tell he didn't give any leeway. 

"There won't be a next time, sir," I replied rather confidently and the instructor almost seemed amused.

Naruko and I went to line up in the very back. The girl who couldn't seem to keep her feelings to herself whispered to me about how nice he seemed and how good looking he was. Thinking back to how Kaga treated me, I couldn't help but quietly agree. ‘There would definitely be no such leniency with him.’ I thought about all the awful punishments or torture methods the Captain could know as we continued our training.

Soma had us perform a fitness exam. We hadn't had a break since the class started when he called out my name to be tested. I stretched the pain out of my legs quickly, not wanting to cramp up. 

"Woah, Atsuko! You have a scary look in your eye!" Naruko, as tired out as I was, laughed nervously. You might say I was competitive. I would say I was trying to prove my worth to the classes of men who didn't think I belonged here. 

"Just tryna keep my head in the game." I jumped on my toes as the instructor called out my name again. "Coming!" 

Jogging over to him, I noticed that even the guys were looking visibly tired due to our endless training. I, on the other hand, although exhausted, had trained like this since I could walk. I was used to being able to hide the physical pain in order to not get shouted at for being weak. 

~~~~~~

For our last lecture of the day, feeling like I had been brought through the wringer, we all filtered into the Monitor Room. Maybe too nervous yesterday to get a good look at the room, I overheard my classmates gossiping about the surveillance equipment surrounding us. Not only were there cameras of the school grounds, but some screens showed destinations all over the country. 

"Don't you think just using this room would make for an easy investigation?" Overhearing one student comment, I couldn't help but agree. Knowing how much the pictures under my bed were worth, who knows how vital a video of a crime would be to an investigation. You just needed to be able to prove they weren't doctored. 

As the instructor lectured, I noticed Naruko resting on my shoulder. "Come on, Naruko. Just a bit longer." I shook her while keeping an eye out for anyone that might rat her out. 

"You can talk. You're a machine, Atsuko," she whined under her breath.

Suddenly, before I could laugh at her comment, another voice spoke up behind us. 

"Sasaki, go to the medical office if you're drowsy." Instructor Shinonome piped up and we both jumped to attention, having not felt anyone around us. Even though the man was grinning, there was something evil behind that childish face of his. 

"Ah! S-Sorry! I'm okay!" Naruko instantly woke up at the prospect of getting punished. 

"If anyone else wants to sleep, you can tell me. They put you through it on the first day, so I expect you're all tired." Shinonome's offer almost sounded like a chance to get us expelled. Or, it did to me anyway. Everyone else looked relieved at the kind sentiment. 

"Okay, that's all for today's class then. Great work everyone." A cheerful smile returned to his face as I eyed him suspiciously. The man I saw in the shower room on my first day was hidden under that friendly persona he had on. 

"Oh, right. Can those who I call stay after class for a moment?" And there it was! The not so innocent catch to his kind offer. Those who would be called were definitely being thrown to the wolves in order to save the rest of us.

As Shinonome began to read out the list, he directed his gaze to the monitor. He called out a few names before looking directly at me. "Lastly, Atsuko Motomori." His face had no note of malicious intent, however, I couldn't help but not trust it. As I gasped to myself, he dismissed our classmates. 

"Atsuko, what did you do?" Naruko whispered as our free classmates shuffled out around us. 

"I-I don't think I did anything?" I panicked, thinking back over the day, trying to find anything that could warrant me being reprimanded. Looking over to those also called, I could see they were just as nervous. Why were we the one's held back? 

‘Maybe... Kaga's mission was discovered?’ I couldn't help but wonder if we’d been caught as Naruko left me sitting where I was. 

"Don't be so nervous. I'm not going to get angry." The happy smile on Shinonome's face helped calm the others in the room. Even I was somewhat relieved by his words. "How were they? The lectures?" Directing his question at me, Shinonome looked over. 

"Educational! It's wonderful how good the facilities are." Trying to get on his good side, I didn't want to let myself look withered as I kept my voice light. 

"Well, the class seemed sleepy. Sasaki looked like she was nearly asleep." The comment didn't sit right with me, this being an elite academy and all.

"Well, as you said, they put us through it," I laughed, trying not to put Naruko in any deep water. 

"So, are you going to fall asleep on us as well? I'd have to punish you then." Shinonome cast me a look that probably didn't seem like anything to the other men in the room. But, to me, it seemed as untrustworthy as the rest of him. 

"Don't count on it." Not wanting to divulge my past of intense training, I just showed a soft smile. To be honest, I wouldn't mind a nap right now, but I wasn't going to admit that. The thought of any kind of punishment, which would likely be some form of harassment from him, had me on edge. 

"Too bad. I wonder if any students who I can have fun with will turn up soon?" His mischievous appearance reminded me of the look Kaga gave me yesterday and my eyes darted away. Even though Shinonome seemed actually happy and there was no emotion in Kaga's eyes, the concept of teasing made me uneasy. 

‘It's scary how he can talk like that and still smile.’ I thought about how his words didn't match the expression as the doors of the Monitor Room opened again. 

Throwing my gaze to the door, I watched Ishigami, Goto and Soma make their way inside. "You're all immediately going to be assigned as student aides to the instructors." Ishigami didn't miss a beat as all attention landed on him. 

"Simply put, you'll help the instructors file documents, prepare lectures and such," Soma added, helping the confused students out. I was shocked. I hadn't done anything special to get me a close position to any of the instructors, let alone have to deal with their grunt work. "Since we must continue our normal duties as Public Safety officers while we teach, we won't always have the time." With that comment, I finally understood why Kaga would agree to become an instructor- so he wouldn't have to do any of the work if he had a capable enough aide. I pitied the person that would have to undertake that role. 

"This is good experience, so although it will be difficult, we ask that you try." The encouraging words from Soma were much more trustworthy to me than Shinonome's slightly eerie ones. 

"Each instructor will get a full-time aide. Following the instructors will be an important role." Goto, as blunt as he had been at the introduction ceremony, crossed his arms as he stared down at all of us. Somehow, the silence that followed was more anxiety invoking than anything Shinonome could say. Soma was right, though. Being so close to an instructor all the time would be a perfect learning opportunity. 

"We will now announce the aides," Ishigami announced, retrieving his clipboard once again. "Instructor Kaga's aide will be Atsuko Motomori." The Captain was as stoic as ever as he read out the list. I, on the other hand, couldn't be more shocked. ‘Kaga seemed so annoyed by even my mere presence yesterday, why would he want me as an aide? He already thinks I'm a screw up because of the train incident.’ 

"What?" Ishigami glared at me as he heard my wordless gasp. 

"Nothing, sir. Sorry." I bowed my head in embarrassment of drawing attention to myself as I pondered over the events in the love hotel that could get me the chance to become an aide. ‘Is it because I chose him yesterday?’ I panicked, thinking back to the misplaced bravery I’d had when picking an instructor.

"Isn't this a good thing? You're one of the few to come back with him safely." Ayumu smirked at my worrisome state. ‘The only reason I was safe is because he didn't actually train me. There was no chance to get in harm's way. Except for the possible fallout of someone recognising me.’ 

"Shinonome, refrain from talking." Ishigami quickly progressed through the list of aides. Once he finished, he turned to me once again. He explained that Kaga was on an investigation mission and that I should go see him when he gets back. I hesitantly agreed, glad to have the time to prepare myself while he was out working. Unlike our permanent instructors, the guys from Public Safety weren't always around, which is probably why they need the help. 

As we were dismissed, I tried to remind myself what a good learning opportunity this could be.

~~~~~~

When the time came to see Instructor Kaga, as Shinonome had told me back in the Monitor Room, I headed to their staff room.

"Excuse me." I knocked on the door before opening it to find an office-like space. Kaga was sitting at one of the many chairs at the large table in the centre of the room. I stood in front of him in order to introduce myself. 

"I'm Motomori. Starting today I will be serving as your full-time aide." Straight-backed and trying to not look uncomfortable under his discerning gaze, I explained why I dared talk to him. 

"Oh?" His brows frowned, once again judging me for all I was worth. 

"I just came to let you know Instru-." However, before I could blame Ishigami for sending me here, I was interrupted.

"A full time aide?" He even seemed to ponder the idea before flat out rejecting me. "Useless, I have no need for an aide, so go." His blunt response threw me off a little. To be honest, I was surprised he didn't unenthusiastically jump at the idea for someone else to do his work. Losing the optimistic view of this assignment, I tried to explain that it had already been decided. 

"Don't need it." He quickly interrupted me again before turning his back on me. "Tell Ishigami for me," was the final thing he said before expelling my presence from the room.

~~~~~~

‘That was rougher than I thought it was going to be,’ I thought as I stood in the hallway, looking at the door signed 'Staff Room'. ‘But, I can't afford to back down here.’ More afraid of what Ishigami would say than what Kaga could do, I raised my fist to knock on the door. 

After hearing no reply, I began to get desperate. "Instructor, please!" I call out, not wanting to go back to Ishigami empty-handed.

"Shut up." The door flew open and there's Kaga, glaring down at me. The sudden action made me jump out of my skin in the silent corridor. "Let me spell this out for you since you don't seem to get it." The oncoming lecture was apparent when I felt like he was going to start insulting me for being so persistent. 

"I have no need for some useless piece." 

I won't lie, that statement struck home. The whole 'chessboard' way of thinking about people lower than you was exactly how my father treated us. I once confronted him about my mother's disappearance and all he could say was "she didn't know how to play the game. She's useless to us if she doesn't want to compete." That wording was something I never understood. How were you supposed to lead anyone if you didn't think anyone less than you was capable enough? 

As I thought about Kaga's statement, I tried to ignore the relation to the man who raised me. "If you give me a chance, I'm sure it'll get Ishigami off your back. He'll only complain to you if I go back to him now." I tried to reason with the side of him that hated his Captain counterpart and a wave of irritation flashed through his face. "I can do anything! I can file for you. I'll even do chores. Please!" I begged, hoping I was getting through to him. Maybe the idea of a maid would make him reflect on the idea. Then, he finally looked at me without that concerned expression. 

"Anything, you say?" He looked me up and down as I agreed, not thinking about the consequences of those words. Then, he narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth. 

"You can be my servant." The growing smirk on his face made me a little uneasy. It was that same grin of victory he’d showed when he’d collected the evidence from the love hotel. 

"Excuse me?" Was all I could utter out to ensure I’d heard him right. 

"You can be my full-time servant. How many times do I have to say it?" The disconcerting frown returned as his eyebrows creased together again. 

[hykwkagas]

Review:

Ishigami Hideki - Her Love in the Force

MS2 - Falling in love + Epilogue

Ratings-

Plot: 4/5

Romance: 5/5

MC: 5/5

Total: 14/15

Oh wow, I totally swooned the whole time reading Ishigami’s MS2 and epilogue. I’ve forgotten how the story progresses, but it was a nice surprise all together experiencing it again as though it was my first time reading it.

Plot: 4/5

Compared to his MS1, it did feel as though the action taking place was a little rushed as now that I’m writing this review, I can’t really remember why the MC got into a cruise ship in the first place. I do feel like Ishigami’s routes are more romance based than action based, and I don’t think it’s a bad thing either. In fact, it is a breath of fresh air from all the other routes. The drama unfolds as the instructors had a reshuffling of their aides, with MC being assigned to Goto in what she assumed is Ishigami’s way of rejecting her feelings. It stings, but her friends especially Chiba is there for her. Like I mentioned before, if this was real life, I’d definitely go for Chiba too as he’s just the sweetest. The hot and cold continues but the real action only takes place after the students were assigned to get their hands on a chip that contained valuable data. It actually made me happy to have these other no faces classmates praised the MC and keep a lookout for her. It was interesting to see how much of the SP bodyguards from MSB we saw (hello Mizuki my fave) as compared to the other routes (even Kurosawa’s) but it was probably meant to be an ode to his route in MSB. It was very action packed midway while on the cruise, with the possibility of the MC dying even if the gas used had been mildly threatening, though a threat is still a threat.

Romance: 5/5

Which brings me to my next point, the romance! Oh boy, if I gave Kurosawa’s route a maximum five points as well for the angst and drama, then these five points for Ishigami’s route is for his sweetness! Maybe it’s because he’s not used to love, but he’s very careful around the MC and very very tender and gentle with her. It almost feels as though he treats her as his favourite shiny toy, where he plays with her once in a while but ultimately just simply admire as though she’s fragile. I’ve played his route before many years back but I didn’t recall Ishigami being this sweet, or maybe I just learnt to appreciate sweet guys better now that I’m older hehe. The MC and Ishigami starts dating pretty early on in his MS2 as compared to the other routes where the romance only takes place or is official from the end of the ninth chapter. While Ishigami’s romanctic journey takes place towards the end of the eight chapter, or even earlier if we count in the cruise drama, which was a pleasant surprise from the others. I feel like his epilogue is also the best epilogue I’ve read, which mentions a proper, action packed date with some spicy times at the end. He’s so soft with the MC, but also so dominating at the end that my heart fluttered uncontrollably reading his route, and do know that meganes aren’t always my type of otome guys I’m into. Ishigami might as well be the sole exception as I think I developed a big fat crush on him with how sweet he was to the MC.

MC: 5/5

During the whole course of his MS2 and epilogue, I feel like the MC had been nothing but relatable. The way she acted around Riko, Ishigami’s and Kaga’s classmate was something I’ll probably do in real life too. It is easy to say that you will focus on work or studies when you’re hopelessly upset about love, but the reality is that it’s hard to get that special someone out of your head when you’re that affected by his presence. In that sense, I think the MC was portrayed as accurately as I think a young woman in love could be. It could be annoying to some readers to how much she sprouts off about love, but I think if the dude is Ishigami, you’d have a hard time not acting like her too. The only negative aspect of the MC that I didn’t quite agree with is her relying a lot on Chiba. He’s a good guy and he likes her, and he’s definitely a good friend, but I wonder if it was necessary for him to know about the troubles and feelings the MC had for Ishigami. Seems too cruel to put him into a situation like that, but that’s just me. I would think confiding in Naruko would be a better choice, but perhaps Chiba could offer better insights since he’s observed the MC more keenly than others, to even notice the feelings Ishigami do have for the MC already. In terms of her work ethics, I think she is amazing. The MC even made Goto speechless when she asked him if he’d abandoned the SP team and the politician if he was in her position, causing those already used in the field to reflect on her idealism. Some people may say it’s too naive of her to choose to abandon orders to retreat during the cruise drama, but I think it’s realistic that someone as upright and just as her would not retreat to save people that she knows need her help. In fact, I think it was mainly her adrenaline talking as she chased after the bad guys one after the other, which is why I think the writing was realistic at this point. The MC is also as sweet to Ishigami as he is to her, not holding back to tell him of her true thoughts to let the man she loved know how much she loves him. It is admirable, as relationships are all about communication. I mentioned this in the MS1 review, but she’s a think first, action later type of MC, and I do think it still holds true in his MS2 and Epilgoue, even when facing steely circumstances. It’s an admirable trait for the MC to have, and I can’t wait to see greater things from here.

[maxismatchccworld]

Change Into Career Outfit Whenever

Created for: The Sims 4 by  emilypl27

I have been frustrated that every morning my sims take a shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and then have to change again to go to work. I would like the option to just get dressed for work and be done with it. So, I have created a small mod that does just that. Now, you can click on the dresser (or any other object that also allows you to change your sim) and get to change into your career outfit. This should only work with ages teen and above, and they must have a career with an assigned work uniform. This mod requires the use of Scumbumbo's XML Injector, which you will have to download here: http://modthesims.info/download.php...=1&goto=newpost The latest version is listed in the comments, kindly updated by Triplis. The injector can be placed anywhere in your mods folder, no more than one folder deep. If you have other mods that also require the XML Injector, you only need one copy of it. Thanks to this injector, this mod should not conflict with any other mods. If you are looking for a mod that allows you to change/plan your sim's career outfit, I recommend this mod by Menaceman44: http://modthesims.info/d/626058/plan-career-outfit.html Our mods should both be compatible so this mod should be a good choice if you are also looking to implement this feature in your game. I hope others will find this mod as helpful as I find it. Please let me know if there are any issues!

Download: http://modthesims.info/d/632577/change-into-career-outfit-whenever.html

Get featured: https://maxismatchccworld.tumblr.com/