#and that does not include planning ahead for the following day's dinner by pulling something from the freezer to thaw

[performing-personhood]

[Scene: two married people discuss the day's upcoming dinner, the narrator and her partner. Wearing shoes and preparing for a quick run to the shop, he is shutting the crisper drawer and withdrawing from the refrigerator.]

"Those chicken breasts are still very frozen."

Yeah, ugh I didn't plan far enough in advance. Again. I'm sorry!

"OK, well I can figure something out for dinner."

I mean, it's YOUR weekend. Cooking dinner is my job!

"It is, and you suck at it."

Ok but in my defense, this is a full-time job and I really only slack off once or twice a week. Which is pretty good for a full-time job.

"It's really not though."

[They stare at each other expectantly. A moment of silence elapses.]

Okay, well, sorry? Fuck me then, I guess.

[He shuts his eyes in exasperation and holds them closed. Another moment of silence elapses.]

Just. Bring home an ingredient you want for dinner and I'll cook with it.

"..... we'll see how it goes. I'll be back in a bit."

Alright, bye then.

[He exits.]

[The narrator picks up her phone, intent on sharing this frustrating experience. Seeing nobody appropriate in the chat but still feeling an intense desire to capture the conversation verbatim before it fades, she decides a post is in order and decides to script the whole thing in a Tumblr post instead. She is sure that, once written out, it will be clear which one of the two was being an asshole. Disappointingly, this does not transpire as being the case.]

[Fade to black.]

[sphireath-wisp]

#To Live, Not Survive.

Sypnosis: I think finding reasons to live in others is one of the most intimate and beautiful things ever. Like, "yes, I want to live one more day, to wake up in the morning and drag my tired feet across roads to see you - because what would I do without you?" So, I wanted to write that out!

Warnings: Not Proofread, some quotes I made myself (so they might be a little cringy?), messy interchanging grammar, all characters in Sae's section are aged up including Sae himself, cursing, Sae and reader are the biggest situationship ever, Sae's section gets lowkey suggestive at the end(?)

Note: Finding a reason to live in others does not mean fully using others and relying on them as your only reason to live - that is unhealthy and there should be a balance of self-sufficiency and independence in everyone.

Featuring: Michael Kaiser, Rin Itoshi, Sae Itoshi, Reo Mikage x GN! Reader

Michael Kaiser

"It's not every day I let someone waltz into my life and hang around me, so be honored. I don't let just anyone poke their nose into my business, so feel special. You pried your way into my heart and I chose you because I like you, so I'm gonna make you feel special and you have no say in it." - Sphireath-wisp

"You're home early." You throw off your shoes before he quickly pulls you into a tight hug. Kaiser lets you out of his embrace with a low chuckle, tucking your hair behind your ear as you continue, "I was supposed to make dinner tonight. If I had known you'd reach home early, I would've started preparing already."

You frown. "You might have to wait a little longer for dinner tonight then. Why didn't you tell me anyway?"

"It's fine," Kaiser brushes it off with a mischievous grin - you can already tell he has something planned. His hands clasp yours in his, a gentle tug towards the dining table without much explanation. You follow him in the dim lighting, eyes sparkling at the candlelit dinner on the table. The scented candles fill the room with the sweet smell of vanilla and cast a warm glow on the plates of food, all of which range from your home country's traditional dishes to your own personal favorites - there's even German food.

Pleasantly surprised, you question, "Woah, what's the special occasion?"

"Nothing much. Just felt like celebrating us, Meine Liebe." He hums, voice smooth as honey. He pulls out your chair, gesturing for you to sit first. The ends of your lips curve up - he was always such a gentleman with you. Getting comfortable in your seat, your eyes travel to the food again, euphoria swirling in you when you're reminded that he did this for you and only you.

By the time you look up, he's seated across from you. "This is amazing, babe." You comment and pull your plate closer to you. Kaiser begins dinner with you, placing a cut of schnitzel on your plate first before serving himself. "Go ahead, start eating," Kaiser grins from ear to ear, eagerly anticipating a favorable reaction from you.

"...Hey, it's pretty good! I didn't know you could cook."

"Germans tie a lot of importance to family and the community. I learned a few recipes from my family when I was younger." He took a bite out of his food.

"So this is why you had that shit-eating grin when I came home? Because you wanted to surprise me?" You gaze at him, the corner of your eyes crinkling when you can't help but smile. A little playful banter always made dinner fun. "I wonder which 'top 10 things to do for someone special' website you searched for."

Kaiser gasps, nudging you from under the table and earning an amused laugh from you. The latter rolled his eyes. "You know," Kaiser starts, "you're more than just someone special, der Liebling." Pink is dusted on your cheeks when you hear him speak. "Really? Is that so?"

"Do you not believe you're more than just special to me?" He scoffs. "I don't let just anyone become my significant other, so be honored." Kaiser points his fork at you. "I did all of this because you're special to me, so feel special, Meine Liebe."

And he wasn't saying this just to be romantic. No, he set up this dinner with you in mind. He researched and followed recipes to a tee because he wanted you to like them. He bought candles and put his whole heart and soul into them so you would feel special - because you are.

You're really something, you know that?

He didn't mind pampering you and spoiling you to no end. He's found purpose in reminding you that this relationship is worth investing into, worth all of the time and fights, worth all of the misunderstandings. He's found joy in helping you, in letting you rely on him when you need assistance in anything honestly. Maybe he was just power-hungry. Having you lean on him meant that he was in control, but Kaiser is genuinely fond of you trusting him enough to be vulnerable around him. Plus, it's cute and he can tease you all night about it.

"I do feel special." You say with hearts in your eyes, "But still, why the grand gesture?"

Kaiser leans in, warm gaze meeting yours. "I chose to do this because I love you and I'm gonna make you feel treasured - no matter what." You pause, blush creeping up your cheeks.

"You're so cheesy."

"You love that about me, don't you?"

Rin Itoshi

"I haven't shown you the extent of my passion. I need you to see me win because that's what I promised you - a future where you feel safe with me, where I can experience both your sorrows and joy, a future where I can walk next to you and recite to the world how lucky I am to have you. Please, let me prove this to you." - Sphireath-wisp

"You know Rin," You began suddenly, staring blankly at him. " I would marry you if you asked me to." The striker almost drops his pen at your words, his heart almost stops in his chest but continues to drum against his ribs. He glances at you from across the table, resting his cheek on his hand and effectively covering the lower half of his face - just in case he was blushing.

"Hah? Don't declare something like that as a joke." or so he chides. You have to be joking. He's positive you're joking because that's the only way he can play this situation off without it etching into his memory and replaying it in his mind. It'll haunt him for who knows how long and his heart will explode. Be a little more merciful with him, won't you? You don't know how strong of an effect you actually have on him.

"I'm not!" The words the irrational, illogical part of him was elated to hear aloud. You only reaffirm yourself even more when he doubts you, a pout on your face. "I'm being serious, Rin. I thought about it and everything."

"For how long? Ever since you sat down and stared at me (something he pretended that he wasn't distracted by) doing my homework 5 minutes ago?" You watch his eyebrows furrow and gaze harden. "(Name)... don't go deciding who you'll marry so early on."

"I only needed 5 minutes," You proudly announce, legs swinging back and forth under the table. "Doesn't that tell you that I needed little time to consider because I was so sure you're the one I wanna marry, my future husband?" Rin's head swerves elsewhere and you lightly kick him in the shin, under the assumption that he was so dumbfounded by your reasoning that he refuses to even look in your direction.

And you were right - half-right. He was dumbfounded, bewildered, stunned to the point that his composure had been rudely thrown out of the window. The deep breath he took - which you presumed to be an exasperated sigh - didn't help calm the intense pounding in his chest, he could still hear it loud and clear in his ears. He scowled, a heat he was forced to get accustomed to pooling in the apple of his cheeks and taking a physical form as hues of deep red on the tip of his ears. He can't risk facing you in this state.

In normal circumstances, he would label you as an idiot like he usually does, though he never actually means harm. He'd sigh at you and give you this 'seriously?' stare that told you he isn't on the same boat as you, so it won't matter to him if you're sinking. Now, you're the one spouting out poetic lines and you know exactly what you're doing to him - he's positive. Terrible, really, you truly have no consideration for his poor heart.

"What exactly were you daydreaming of during those 5 minutes? What was so convincing that it made you want to marry me, huh?" Rin presses on further.

"I love you. You stood up for me and defended me so many times. You reminded me and constantly drilled into my head that I shouldn't settle for less." and... silence, an uncomfortable one at that.

"That's it?" Rin's face scrunches up as if he was expecting more than just that. "That's all it takes?" He was no good with words, so it came out more harsh than planned. "Come on, there has to be more than that."

You stopped taking the conversation lightheartedly with the sudden change. Your gut churns uncomfortably in you. Your smile fades. "...Am I forgetting something?" Was he expecting you to list out everything he did? Did he think you forgot?

"No, it's just-" Rin curses himself. Pressing his thumb and middle finger on the temple of his head, he rubs his temples in circles and hurriedly slaps words together that he hoped would get his message across. "You can't marry someone for just... that. I won't let you."

You fidget with your hands on the table and he notices your discomfort - he hates this feeling of guilt that stabs his gut, he had forgotten how easy it is for his mouth to run. Stacking his hand on yours, he envelops your hand with the warmth of his - you accept despite everything.

"I'm... not that good at communicating. I still need time." Rin admits something he knew he needed to face if he wanted to be worthy of becoming your husband. He won't allow himself to take up the title of your future husband just yet. "There are still things I want to do to prove I'll always be there for you."

He has always been fighting to prove himself. In soccer, it's to beat Sae. Now, it's embedded in his daily life - whether it's planning dates or learning about you and himself - to prove himself to you that he's worth it. He finds purpose in improving himself and his attitude outside of soccer - to finally convince himself and you that he deserves you. "Don't go calling me your future husband. I'll get complacent before I can show you how far I'll go for you."

Your tense shoulders drop. Lovestruck eyes stare back at him as a relieved sigh escapes you. "Rin..." His name rolls off your tongue in a way that makes him remember just why your voice was his favorite sound, "I love you."

He rubs your knuckles as a silent 'I love you'/apology for the misunderstanding - he'll have to hurry up and learn how to phrase his words better in the future to avoid mishaps like this.

Sae Itoshi

"Humans were so desperate to understand each other that we created languages - both verbal and non-verbal. Isn't that the same for us? For a long time, we didn't know what to say or how to tell each other things so tender, to be vulnerable around each other, but we still wanted to know each other. You squeezed my hand, I squeezed yours - and I telepathically knew." - Sphireath-wisp

Sae can't help but let out a sigh, exhausted from the match that his team won. The tension he held in his body during the match released with the relieving announcement that he won, that all of his efforts didn't go down the drain, and left behind his worn-out body.

He wasn't fond of the idea of joining his teammates for an after-match celebration at the indoor barbecue grill just down the street. Sae was more than aware it would eventually end with them drinking the night away. He burned up enough energy during the fan meet-and-greet - the last thing he wanted was another few hours of putting up with his teammates' antics.

However, he couldn't, not with you in the equation. Oliver butted in during Sae's private phone call with you. Despite all of his objections and retorts directed toward Oliver, him and that smooth voice of his coaxed you into tagging along. Now that you were dragged along with them, he had to keep you close. He's not letting you hang around alone with them, he can't stomach the thought of them bringing you home.

It was a joyous occasion - or at least it was supposed to be. You could notice the glares Sae was shooting Oliver every time he poured another drink for you, the way Sae insisted he should sit between you and Shidou so you could sit at the very end of the seats. Everyone raised their glasses and you followed suit, but Sae always reminded you: "Don't force yourself to if you don't want to. Don't drink too much."

Sae lowers his glass after the collective "cheers", chugging it down with ease. Silently, he chews on his food, eyes occasionally glancing at you to check if you're okay. One sign of his discomfort and he's out of there with you - perhaps he was hoping the both of you could get out there as soon as possible.

He'll put you first this time - something he rarely does for anyone else because he's at his very core, egocentric. If you're enjoying this, he supposes it's okay.

"Hey Sae," You pour him a drink as everyone else is absorbed in their own conversations, the alcohol adding a slight flush to your face and the tips of your ears, "are you happy?"

He takes a moment to process your question, the alcohol having its own effect on him. "...yeah, why? Are you not?"

"I am, very actually. I'm happy you won. You worked hard for it and you deserved it," you add - being tipsy does certainly make it easier to express yourself to the midfielder as it causes you to begin rambling a little, "You just seem a little... upset?"

Things between you and him go quiet and you glance away. "No, never mind. Forget I said anything-"

"Yeah, I am. I want to go home." Sae speaks bluntly - he's always like this, but it seemed much harder with you. It was as if he had to be careful when it came to you, scrutinize and pick every word to make sure the message he wanted to get across wasn't distorted.

"You can always go, you know? I'm sure your team would understand," You say between bites. He's painfully reminded that you aren't his, that as much as he wants to tell you that he wants to go home with you - he just can't cross that line between friendship and something even bigger. Sae takes calculated risks, but his feelings aren't numbers, he can't decipher this.

His hand accidentally brushes against yours and your skin feels like it was on fire against his touch. Goosebumps made their mark across your body and he notices when you shiver. Under the table, you cautiously reach out for his wrist.

"Sorry, can I?" You mumble, looking elsewhere. You can't bear to meet his gaze right now, it'll melt you. Sae's hands reply by enveloping yours, intertwining fingers. He holds your hand tighter and it feels electric. You can feel every callous, his fingertips hovering over your skin. You look at Sae, making eye contact with him.

He's focused on you, hooked onto the way your hand was practically made for him. It fit so perfectly in his. He couldn't get enough. You started this, so you better finish this was the look Sae gave you, grip hardening when you reached out for your cup.

"Wanna get out of here?"

You watch his gaze soften, melting like honey. He's grateful you can understand him so effortlessly because he doesn't mind treating you better than any of his teammates could. He's sure to learn about you with time, he'll know you like the back of his hand. He lives for the way you already know what to say to him. He feels heard around you.

He's no good at anything else but soccer, so he's found a new passion burning in him to understand you - how you could sit there and look so pretty, eyes clouded and hazy, tips of your ears flushed a pretty red along with the skin of your neck and collarbone. You'll surely explain to him your secret to making him feel so warm inside by tonight, it'd be quite selfish of you to keep things like that to yourself because he wants payback.

"I've been waiting for you to say that."

Reo Mikage

"Not to sound traumatized, but it feels unreal that someone can miss you and want you around so often. I feel like every worry within me keeps repeating, "Until when? until when?" and the people I love and that love confirms, "As long as you'd like."" - Schuylerpeck //tumblr

"Oh! Let's get-"

"Reo, sweetheart." You interject.

"But, I can-"

"No. You are not buying me anything else." Your hand wraps around his wrist, a borderline desperate tug on his arm, "I won't let you." You say firmly and the way your eyebrows furrow tells him that you aren't pleased at all.

"I'm sorry!" He blurts out before you can get any more upset at him, guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders when he realizes he overdid it. "I didn't mean to, I just wanted to spoil you. Your favorite bouquet of flowers was right at the display."

You let out a vexed sigh. "As much as I want to say 'it's okay' and let it slide, I'm not going to." Your hand reaches out to carry the shopping bags of items he had bought for you previously, not a single care in the world, and everything paid for with the swipe of his card.

"No, I insist," Reo holds the shopping bag in his other hand, preventing you from reaching it and earning a huff from you. "Baby, I really mean it when I can afford this. I'm sorry I made you upset, but you deserve this."

Reo slowly slips his hand into yours, relief washing over her in waves when you don't resist. "Baby?"

"Yes?" You answer - you always do, to his relief. You're terrible at being strict with him and even worse at being mad at him when he stares back at you, voice gentle and eager to do anything and everything for you. He was at your every beck and call, but you didn't want to abuse that privilege.

"Do you forgive me?" He wants to make sure, he needs to. He won't be able to put his mind to rest if he isn't 101% certain you aren't mad at him or else he might splurge again. If his kisses and charms didn't work, perhaps lady luck will be on his side and you'll spot something you want - then Reo can swoop you off your feet and satisfy that desire of yours.

You narrow your eyes.

"Is that a no?"

"I'm still thinking."

"Do you want to visit our favorite cafe? We can sit down there and rest for a bit. We have been walking for a while. Do your feet hurt? I can carry you! I'll call my chauffeur-"

You sigh, causing Reo to pause and frown.

He feels like he's going crazy in the silence and you feel your own heart clench at how disheartened he looks. You hug his arm to catch his attention.

"Listen, Reo," He stays silent, fully prepared to absorb your words and burn them into his memory, "I'm here because I want to hang out with you. I'm not here because I want a new pair of shoes or more perfume - because if that was the case, I would've just asked you for money. I'm here for you, we could go eat pizza instead of some high-end restaurant and I honestly wouldn't care because you're with me."

"I appreciate the gesture and how you insist you'll pay for all of my expenses," You quickly snatch a bag from his grasp when his guard is lowered, "but I'm not a child. I'm independent too. We have to learn to share our burdens and troubles together in this relationship, okay?"

"You're right," he admits without an ounce of shame and he's a fast learner. He's still a natural charmer, leaning in for a chaste kiss on your forehead. "You're so right. I'm so lucky to have you."

He feels this indescribable joy, to the point where the smooth-talker himself can't put it into words. You're there for him and you always will be, it puts his heart at ease, and it helps him breathe easier. You're engraved into his daily routine and life, but gosh, he can't get enough of you and all the surprises that come along with you.

"Do you forgive me now?" He hums, a little more confident. The lingering voice in the back of his head that drives his mind to the worst possible scenario becomes a little more quiet.

"Of course I do," You press a soft kiss on his cheek.

Taglist: @dewwberry, @saenora

[doubleleoenergy]

V. Off to the Races, Lolita Series

My old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam. And he shows me, he knows me. Every inch of my tar-black soul.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of relationship violence, rape, and murder, pet names, passionate sex,

Words: 4025 (I am SO sorry for this)

Summary: Andy takes y/n on a weekend getaway while Jacob and his friends are out of town.

Two weeks had dragged on since Andy had gotten a taste of y/n’s sweet nectar, and since then nothing. It wasn’t like they really had the chance to be alone, Jacob and the other boys weren’t going out late at night or on the weekends as they usually did. Andy had to settle for his hand every night, reminiscing on their oral escapades.

It didn’t help that Andy had been swamped with cases, court appearances, and tons of paperwork. He had spent every night of those two weeks at the office until his eyes physically couldn’t stare at the cases in front of him anymore. Andy even showed up on the weekend to fit in a little extra work, hoping it would help take care of some of the load but to no avail. He was completely and thoroughly exhausted, and he could tell that y/n was as well.

She had worked directly with him on a few late-night cases, the rest of the time being spent shadowing Neal fucking Loguidice. It was great for her internship to do so, getting new perspectives of different attorneys in the office, but it was not as good for his jealousy.

By Thursday evening the heavy load of cases and paperwork had seemed to disappear, and Andy was grateful for being able to leave the office at a decent hour. With y/n in tow, he ducked into his Audi, waiting for y/n to get comfortable in the passenger seat before roaring the vehicle to life.

“Is it just me, or have these past two weeks been exhausting?” He asked, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at y/n as he drove. Andy knew her answer before she even opened her mouth, a loud groan leaving her lips as she rested her head back against the seat.

“You’re telling me, if I have to hear Neal mention one more time about his new kickboxing class, I’m going to gouge my eyes out. He really fucking sucks.” Her words elicit a chuckle from Andy’s lips, a smile of pride seeping onto his face. It was good to know she didn’t have any interest in Neal.

“We should do something fun this weekend, just the two of us. Maybe you’ll let me finally take you on a date” He suggested, lulling his car to a stop at the next red light. Y/N raised an eyebrow in his direction, cocking her head to the side. “Andy, I already told you, I don’t do relationships.”

Andy rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat to look at her. “Yeah, you said that, but I’m in it for the long game, y/n. You have to admit there’s something between us.”

“Andy…” She sighs, watching the sun setting out the passenger window. Sure, there was definitely something between him. Was he different from all the other guys before that she had hooked up with? Yes, of course. First off, she had never been with a man his age, someone with a career, a house, and a car of his own. He even had a pension and a life insurance policy; she hadn’t hooked up with any men who had those.

The car is silent as they pull into the garage, Andy immediately shutting off the car and sitting back in his seat. Y/N looked down at her lap awkwardly, reaching for the door but Andy stopped her with a tug to her wrist, getting her to look up at him.

“You want to be an attorney, right?” The question has her furrowing her brows, looking at him as if he had said ‘You know the sky is blue, right?’

“Of course, you know that, but what does that have to do with-” Andy cuts her off by holding up his index finger, loosening his grip on her wrist. “Attorneys defend their cases in court to a judge or jury, who then ultimately decide the fate of their clients. Their job is to convince someone that their claim is right.” Andy rests one hand on the steering wheel, a smug smirk crossing his lips.

“Saturday morning we’ll leave for a weekend getaway, planned by yours truly. This will all be part of my case as to why we should be together, no more games, officially together. You as the judge will examine the weekend's evidence and conclude on whether we should be together. If you decide after the weekend that you don’t think so, I’ll leave it alone and we won’t have to discuss it ever again. But I’m hoping for it to change your mind.” Before she can protest, Andy holds his hand up. “And I’ll even get us a room with two beds, no funny business, promise. So...will you hear my case out?”

Y/N had to admit, she had never been chased by a guy so ferociously, but what was the harm in seeing the evidence and getting a free weekend vacation out of it? She stuck her hand out for him to shake, a professional gesture for their arrangement. “Alright, I will gladly hear your case out.”

Andy had arranged it all down to the last detail, including lying to Jacob and the boys about an important conference for work that they both had to attend that weekend. Of course, he didn’t suspect a thing, he went out of town for conferences all the time, and thus his plan was set.

When Saturday morning finally arrived, Andy was feeling great. He had gone for an early morning jog, took a long shower, and even trimmed his hair and beard. Andy dressed in a plain white t-shirt and dark denim jeans, packing his bag with his essentials for the evening before walking out into the kitchen. As usual, the boys were all still asleep, hungover from their late-night game of shot roulette, which left the house extremely quiet.

Andy couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face as he walked into the kitchen and saw y/n waiting at the counter, a familiar plate of breakfast and coffee next to her. “It’s a Saturday, you know that right? Thought breakfast was for workdays.” He stated, moving to sit at his usual spot beside her.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” She responded, taking a swig from her coffee mug. Andy’s eyes wandered along her body; her outfit of the day effortlessly beautiful. She wore a tight white bodysuit tucked into a pair of figure-hugging mint shorts; a pair of matching wedges slipped onto her dainty feet to complete the look.

“You’re right, it is.” Andy’s silverware moved to cut into his meal, chewing thoughtfully as he thought about the day ahead. “You’d think that by making me breakfast you were trying to plead your own case.” He teased, engulfing another bite of his food.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, moving to set her now empty coffee mug in the sink. “I’ve got nothing to plead, you on the other hand, do.” She waits with her back to the counter, playing on her phone until he finishes his meal, setting his plate in the sink behind her.

“Are you ready to go?” He questioned, grabbing his duffel bag off the floor. Y/N followed suit, grabbing her tiny black suitcase and following him out into the garage. Andy grabbed the suitcase from her, setting it with his own bag in the trunk before they both got into the car, backing slowly out of the driveway.

It was a beautiful day out, the sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Y/N asks, crossing her legs.

“Would it matter? You’re not familiar with the state anyhow.” He retorted, pulling up the address on his GPS as they started on their journey.

“True, I just want to know what I’m getting into.” Her eyes locked on the GPS, noticing the destination was an hour away. “Rockport? What’s in Rockport?” She asked, raising a shapely brow in Andy’s direction.

“Well for starters, it’s along the ocean, which guarantees a good view. It also has great shopping, beaches, and restaurants. It’s a nice little getaway.” Andy turns on the radio as the car goes silent, y/n admiring the view as they drive.

The silence in the car was comfortable, both of them enjoying each other’s company, and before they knew it, they had arrived at their home for the weekend. They were staying at the Cove at Rockport, a beautiful inn right along the ocean. It was even more classy than the photos online, and Andy made quick working of getting them checked into their room.

Andy and y/n walked together down the long hallway to their room, room one on the first floor. Unlocking the door with the key provided, Andy pushed it open, allowing y/n to step in and take in their living arrangements.

The main room was huge, donning a cute little breakfast nook adjacent to the kitchen, a living room, two separate bedrooms, and a bathroom. The decor was all beach themed, of course, shades of blues and beiges filling their sights.

“This definitely deserves a point towards your case.” Y/N admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. It was honestly the nicest place she’d ever stayed at, more luxurious than what she had expected. Walking further into the space, y/n pushed open the sliding door, the sound of waves hitting the shore bursting through her ears as she took in the view. It truly was gorgeous, much different from shitty life in Ohio.

“So, I did alright with my first piece of evidence?” He chortled, leaning back against the cool wall. Y/N continues to take in the view outside, a light breeze picking up and blowing her hair off her shoulders.

“I’d say so.” She shuts the sliding doors and walks back to investigate the sleeping spaces, setting her bags in the room with a large picture of a beach umbrella over the bed, the smaller of the two. “Well, what else do you have planned for your case? Because if this is it, I can come to a decision right away.”

Andy moved his own bag into the opposite room before walking into y/n’s and sitting down on the plush comforter. “I wanted to start the trip with a walk downtown, explore some of the shops before we get ready for our dinner reservations at six.”

Ah, he even sprung for reservations, what a smart man. “Sounds good, let’s explore.” Y/N got up from the bed, grabbing her purse before Andy followed her out, walking out of their room towards the lobby.

Downtown was only about a five-minute walk from the inn, an enjoyable stroll filled with laughter from a group of teens on the sidewalk, birds chirping in the trees, and the smell of fresh muffins wafting from the window of a bakery on the street. “Well, where should we look first?” He asked, turning to look at y/n for guidance on where she’d like to go.

They had spent about two full hours downtown, walking in and out of all the little shops, picking up a blueberry donut to share from one of the bakeries, and taking photos of each other along the Rockport streets. Most of the photos Andy took of y/n were very Instagram appropriate photos, staring down the camera and moving from angle to angle. On a few photos though, Andy would say something to make her laugh, snapping away at her genuine reaction.

Before long they were walking back into the room to get ready for their dinner reservations. Andy was pulling out all the stops, dressing up in one of his nicest black suits, a matching black tie situated atop a crisp white button down. He spritzed on some of his favorite Versace Eros cologne, adjusting the laces of his dress shoes before walking out into the living room. Andy had ordered a dozen red roses to be delivered to the suite, arriving shortly after he had finished getting ready, sitting on the couch with the flowers and waiting for y/n to walk out. God, he hoped this wasn’t too cheesy.

After about five minutes of waiting anxiously, the door to y/n’s room opened, noticing her delicate silver peep toe heels first. His eyes roamed up her toned and tanned legs, settling on her baby blue dress, off the shoulder with slightly puffy sleeves, a tie in the front revealing just a bit of cleavage. The ruffles on the hem swayed as she moved, her eyes taking in the sight of him as well with the flowers.

Suddenly Andy stood up, holding out the flowers to her. “You look incredible, Lolita.” There went the pet name again, though it was always so fitting for her. “Shall we go?” Y/N silently thanked him for the flowers, taking a whiff of their sweet aroma before setting them down on the counter near the door. She followed Andy to his car, waving him off when he tried to open her door for her. Her expression stayed on Andy the entire drive, inhaling his intoxicating cologne, licking her lips. Y/N had to admit, he always looked great in a suit.

The restaurant was only a ten-minute drive from the inn, a little classy seafood restaurant along the ocean coast. It was packed with people, a quartet playing Sinatra’s finest hits off in the far-right corner of the room. Some people were dancing, some were sitting along the bar against the left wall, while most were diners enjoying their meals at their table.

Y/N and Andy were led to a table near the back wall facing the ocean view. Andy started off by ordering a bottle of chardonnay for the table, taking in the sight of y/n lit up by the candlelight provided.

“This is beautiful, Andy.” She exclaimed, her eyes scanning the room and all the happy couples around them. Andy smiled before opening his menu, mulling over what to order. “I told you, I’m great at pleading my case. And as you know, I almost always win.” Y/N rolled her eyes, opening her own menu. “Key word, almost.”

After deciding on what to eat, Andy getting the seafood gnocchi and y/n ordering the lobster bisque, Andy poured them each a glass of wine, holding his up towards hers. “Cheers to an unforgettable night.” He exclaimed, clinking their glasses together before they each took a sip of their respective glasses.

As they wait for their food, Andy and y/n sit and talk more about their likes and dislikes, what they want in the future, and the day they had downtown. Their food arrives during the conversation and they continue to talk while they indulge in their meals, all the food just as incredible as the atmosphere.

About thirty minutes later Andy and y/n take in their last bites of food, sitting back and enjoying the liveliness around them. As they waited for their check to arrive, the sound of Sinatra’s hit ‘It Had to Be You’ started drifting from the quartet. Andy smiles, holding out his hand towards y/n as he stares down at her. “Dance with me?” He asks, taking in her surprised expression before she scoots herself out of her seat, grabbing his hand as he led her over to where the other couples were dancing. Andy places his hands on the small of her back, y/n wrapping her own around his neck as they sway to the tune.

“This is definitely not as good as dancing together at the club.” She joked, making Andy laugh. “Well, technically I wouldn’t call that dancing. More like...gyrating, or maybe dry humping? Definitely not the same.” Her smile brightened; his eyes locked on her as they moved. It was as if they were the only people there, like the whole world stopped to see them dance.

“For nobody else gave me a thrill. With all your faults, I love you still. It had to be you...Wonderful you...It had to be you…” The quartet crooned, the song ending and a few of the couples clapping in response. Andy’s eyes bore into y/n’s, licking his lips before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips, holding it for a moment before y/n pulled away, clearing her throat and letting go of his neck.

“M’sure the bill is on the table.” She stated, walking back towards their chairs. Andy let out a huff of disappointment, following her over to the table and paying for their meal before they walked in silence back to their car.

The car ride felt riddled with tension, the tension continuing to build as they got back to the room. “We need to talk, y/n.” He admitted as the door of their suite shut behind them, crossing his arms against his broad chest. Y/N leaned her weight against the wall between their bedrooms, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Andy…” She started, becoming silent again and chewing on her bottom lip. Andy’s stance becomes more tense, taking a step closer to her. “I want you, y/n. And not because of how mind-blowingly attractive you are. You are intelligent, thoughtful, and selfless. You’re not stuck up or fussy about material items. You make me feel like I’m in my twenties again, you make me feel like I’ve never felt with another woman.”

He takes another step closer to her, hovering above her due to his height. She puts her hands on his chest to stop him from moving, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“I’m terrified of this, Andy. How do I know you won’t turn out just like my piece of shit father, huh?” She leans her body weight against the wall, peering up at him.

“Look, I know how you feel, alright?” He moves away from her again, his back turned towards her as his hand ruffles through his hair. “I know firsthand, my father...he’s also in prison. He went to prison when I was young for raping and murdering a 19-year old woman. I vowed to myself to never ever treat a woman without kindness and respect. Though my marriage with Laurie wasn’t perfect, I’m sure she’d say that I was nothing like my father, and nothing like yours for that matter.”

He turns back to look at her, arms outstretched. “I promise I will never hurt you; you can trust me. I’m all in, y/n. And I meant everything I said.”

She processes his story of his father, realizing they had a lot more in common than she once thought. Her heart is beating so fast she thought it might splatter in her chest, closing the distance between the two quickly. Her hand came up to grip his jaw, leaning up and kissing him lovingly. They continue to kiss, y/n parting her lips to allow Andy’s tongue to slip inside, exploring her mouth and causing her to moan. After a moment they both pull away breathless, her hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Okay...I’m all in too, with you.” Her words are all Andy had been wanting to hear, gripping her waist and kissing her lustfully this time, pushing them backwards until they both hit the wall again with a groan. His lips trailed a line of kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, shrugging off his suit jacket and making quick work at the buttons on his shirt, practically ripping the buttons off completely.

Y/N is tilting her head back against the wall, helping to push off his now open shirt to expose his God-like torso. This was her first time seeing his chest, running her cool fingers against his abs as he kissed back up her neck and into her mouth.

He plays with the fabric on sleeves of her dress, pushing them down so that she can fully shimmy out of the pale blue fabric. Her breasts are on full display, no bra to pull down, and Andy growled at the sight of them. They were just as perky as they had been while peeking through her outfits.

He nudged her body in the direction of his bed, hands making quick work of his belt and pulling down his trousers, kicking them into a pile as he walked into the bedroom after her in only his Calvin Klein briefs. Andy moved forward to kiss her again, knocking them both over onto the bed, a breathy laugh escaping her throat. 

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, my little Lolia.” He purred, his hands coming up between them to knead over her delectable breasts. Y/N cried out from the touch, grinding her hips up into Andy’s to evoke a similar noise from him. “Andy, need you…” She whined, her back arching off the bed, her panties rolling against his clearly clothed hard cock.

He slipped his hands lower, teasing his fingertips along her folds, already slick with her desire. “Need what, Lolita? Need you to tell me exactly what you want.” Her hands rub his cock through the thin fabric, a whine of impatience leaving her lips. 

“Need you inside me, Andy. Please, fuck my pussy.” Her words ignite an animalistic groan from his lips, pulling off her and scooting her up further onto the bed until her head touched the pillows. He quickly tugged off his boxers, stepping out of them before shimmying her out of her panties, tossing them aside.

His eyes grew dark as he took in her naked form in front of him, stroking his cock. She really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and she was all his. Andy moved onto the bed, hovering over y/n with his cock dragging against her glistening folds. He was bigger than the guys she’d been with before, and the thought alone excited and terrified her. Her fingers land on the skin of his shoulder blades, pressing in lightly as she locks eyes with him.

“Andy, please.” She begs again. Andy keeps his eyes on hers as he pushes in slowly, giving her time to adjust as he moves inch by inch into her cunt. Her nails dig a bit deeper into his skin, mewling as he continues to press into her until he finally bottoms out, holding himself in place. 

“God, my little Lolita, you’re so fucking tight...you’re milking my cock and I haven’t even moved yet. Do you want me to move?” He leant down and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, waiting for her mumbled ‘mhm’ against him before he rolled his hips into hers.

The pace started slowly, building up speed with every little noise y/n’s mouth made, coming undone underneath him with each thrust. They continued to share soft kisses, moaning into each other’s mouths, y/n’s hands locking around his neck.

“Andy.” She breathed, her walls tightening and releasing around him. “Wanna cum for you.”

Andy quickened his pace, kissing along her pulse point on her neck. “Cum for me, Lolita. Want to feel you cum on my cock.” It doesn’t take her long after his sentence before she’s tightening her walls again, crying out as her orgasm rips through her. Her eyesight is full of stars, and it takes a second for her to regain her vision, focusing on Andy’s face once she does.

“M’gonna cum in this pretty cunt, fill you up to the brim.” He states, thrusting a few more times before coating her walls with his release. He stills inside of her for a moment before pulling out slowly and plopping down with his back on the bed next to her.

They both lie in silence, staring up at the ceiling, panting. The sex was incredible, better than they both could’ve imagined. Andy’s arm wraps loosely around y/n’s shoulder, tugging her into his chest and pressing a loving kiss to her forehead.

“You’re mine now, it’s official.” He looked down at her with a lazy smile, watching as her fingers began to trail up and down his chest. “Guess you could say I won yet another case.”

“Shut up, Andy.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @my-divine-death @blackwiddows @sokovianheadtilt @fuckandfluff @rattlemyb0nes @rootcrop @turtoix @sylvielaufeydottirr @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @ccmarvelxx @rebelemilu @tenaciousperfectionunknown @agentofbarnes @serendipityrogers

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Just The Way You Are// D.M.

Request: Hi can you do a draco x reader where they are in a relationship and her parents are like as**oles and they always bother her about her weight so one day she is with draco and makes a comment like “maybe i should stop eating so much” or something like that and Draco is like WHAT and tells her that she is beautiful and all that and he is like really worried Thanks!!

A/N: MY 100TH FIC!!! MY 100TH FIC FOR HP!!! Of course it has to be Draco!! I didn't think I would ever reach 100 fics as well as get over 1000 followers yet here I am. I am so thankful to all of you who have read everything but have also motivated me into continuing to write even when I doubt my own abilities (which is a lot). Thank you so much for requesting, lovely! I hope I have done your request justice! I enjoyed writing this, I ended up writing it all in one sitting. Please read the warnings before you read! And as always, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: food, weight issues, shitty parents, swearing (I think) BUT DRACO IS CUTE DAMMIT.

Word count: 2k

Every morning in the Great Hall, breakfast is served at seven am sharp. This gives the students enough time to eat, socialise and let their food settle before classes begin promptly at half past eight. It also gives the students time to read over any mail that should fall with the Owls upon their arrival at eight am.

As your family owl drops a letter inscribed with the familiar handwriting of your mother, you don’t know whether to scream in frustration or burn the letter without reading. You knew that it would be filled with her usual criticism rounded off with a few sweet lines about the renovation to the house or how your cousin was doing so well on her internship abroad.

You flip the letter in your hands a few times; wondering whether the Howler from your mother would be worth it once she never got a reply from you. However, you eventually decide that the Howler would not be worth it and that your mother’s vitriol is better off read in silence.

Rolling your eyes, you try not to let the letter affect you so much. Her words are always poisonous and toxic, but this time, she cuts you where it hurts.

“My dear, how on earth is the Malfoy boy supposed to stay with you if you continue to gain weight? I’ve enclosed a new diet regiment for you to follow – stick to it, this is not an option.”

You scrunch up the letter and the included diet regiment in your hands. Crunching them up until they resemble litter rather than the foul words scrawled onto parchment.

You had never felt you had issues with your weight; there wasn’t any need to necessarily – the meals at Hogwarts were scheduled and there was enough exercise done through the day in order to get to classes on time, and this was before the weekend walks to Hogsmeade or the ambles around the Black Lake with Draco.

You don’t feel like there should be an issue with your weight, but your mother’s words are venomous barbs that stick into your brain. Her words on replay in the forefront of your mind.

There was no real excuse for the way your mother harked on about appearances and reputations. Your family hailed from an ancient line of witches and wizards; even going so far as to state that your ancestors were among the very first to attend Hogwarts when the founders were teachers.

So for your mother, everything since then had to be perfect.

Perfect hair. Perfect dress. Perfect manners.

Perfect weight, apparently.

Any appetite you had before has now dissipated. It’s funny how three lines of a letter is enough to put one off their morning meal.

You felt like a rule change should be implemented at Hogwarts; no mail until the evening - that way students don’t have the time to sit and worry about the thoughts of their parents.

Pushing your plate away from you, you bring out your reading book from your bag. Flipping through the familiar pages, you find the dog-eared corner from where you rounded off last night before falling asleep.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the pages having read the story over a thousand times before, but the niggling voice in the back of your head that sounds suspiciously similar to your mothers has you reading the same paragraph over and over again.

A kiss being pressed to the top of your hand is the first greeting from Draco. The next is a quiet good morning as he pours himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

You smile at the blonde-haired teenager, looking up from your book, but the smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Love, is everything okay?” Draco asks; immediately spotting that something is off.

You shake your head, “It’s nothing to worry about, love. I just didn’t sleep very well last night.”

Draco chuckles; not entirely convinced but happy to wait until you come to him. “It’s because you didn’t stay with me last night.”

You roll your eyes with a grin, “I’ve stayed in your dorm the last three nights; it’s only a matter of time before someone says something.”

Draco shrugs; leaning over to peck your cheek, “Let them, I don’t care.”

“You will when we get caught out by Snape on a random inspection,” You comment with a light laugh.

Draco smiles broadly at the idea of the Head of Slytherin ever completing a random inspection of the dungeon. He grabs a slice of toast from the rack and reaches for the marmalade.

His eyes wander over the lack of food in front of you, “Already eaten?”

You nod, smirking, “And all alone as well since you take so long in the mornings.”

He laughs, “It takes time to look this good, darling.”

“Sure it does,” You comment, leaning in to peck him on the lips. He hums against your mouth happily, but all too soon, you pull away, “I’m off to the library before class, I want to get ahead on the History of Magic essay. I’ll see you later.”

You drop another kiss to Draco’s mouth before hoisting your bag onto your shoulder and departing from the Great Hall.

Draco shakes his head at your retreating figure; something about you was off, but he couldn’t place his finger on what. He wasn’t going to pester you as it would only make things worse, but he knew he had to address it before you lost yourself from overthinking.

Draco bites into his toast; already thinking of the ways he can talk to you.

----

Your days are always filled with little highlights; seeing the first flower bloom after a long winter or reading your favourite part of your book without being interrupted or it’s finding Draco waiting outside your classroom after every lesson of the day.

You find him waiting opposite the door to your class; leaning against the wall with his robes open, showing the white buttoned shirt underneath. His rebelliousness highlighted in the undone top button and untucked shirt. You shake your head as you make your way over to the teenager that made your heart stutter.

He grins, holding his elbow out to you, “Lunch, my love?”

“Lead the way.”

The Great Hall is loud upon your arrival. Students shouting, laughing, grabbing for food from the centre of the tables. It’s a ruckus, but it makes you smile as you take a seat across from Draco at the Slytherin table.

“Is that all you’re eating?” Draco asks with a frown at the sight of your plate.

You nod your head; your mother’s words from this morning making another round in your head, “I’m not overly hungry.”

The frown doesn’t leave Draco’s face, and through lunch, he glances between your face and the plate, wondering what’s changed for your appetite to have disappeared.

Draco walks you to your next class after the bell rings signalling the end of lunch.

He pauses outside the classroom, keeping a tight grip on your hand. His other hand reaches up to caress your cheek; a rare form of PDA from the Slytherin Prince who was more than happy to kiss and hold hands but would rarely show his feelings so openly.

“You’d tell me if something was wrong wouldn’t you?” He asks; concern alight in his eyes.

You hold his hand to your cheek; pressing a kiss to the palm, “I would.”

He nods silently. Kissing your forehead, Draco turns away, striding to his next class.

Guilt stirs within you like a lead balloon; weighing you down for the rest of the day. Even the ringing of the final bell of the day wasn’t enough to lift your mood.

Draco continues to meet you after every class; his arm always ready for you to slip yours through. But he’s quieter; more sombre as he leads your through the bustling corridors and staircases.

At the end of the day, he escorts you to the Great Hall. The level of noise quieter from lunch but still loud as students discuss their plans for the evening over the food laid out on the long, wooden tables.

Dinner is a feast by any standard, and Draco tucks right in, piling food onto his plate – ravenous after a day filled with exam preparation. You take your time with your meal; selecting more and more vegetables as you think back to the letter and diet regiment now burning a hole through your bag.

Draco sighs as he watches you pick at your food. He reaches over, checking your temperature with the back of his hand on your forehead, “Well you feel fine,” he murmurs, “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve picked at your food all day, and you’ve become more distant as the day’s gone on.”

“I’ll talk to you about it in the common room,” You state.

“You will?”

Nodding, you promise,  “I will.”

Draco makes his way through the rest of the meal; drawing you into a conversation after conversation about how the day has been. When his plate is empty and yours has been pushed to one side, Draco stands from the bench. He takes one last drink of his pumpkin juice before holding his hand out to you.

The walk to the common room is quiet; you think over the letter in your bag, wondering about the reply you’re going to send back to your mother. One cross word from you and you wouldn’t be surprised if she, herself, showed up in Dumbledore’s office demanding punishment for your insolent words.

It was tiring, you realise, to be her daughter.

The Slytherin common room is silent when Draco leads you through the door; all students either still eating in the Great Hall or ambling about the castle. You settle on the black leather couch in front of the already lit fire; you hum at the warmth it gives off – holding your hands out to warm them through.

Once your hands are warm enough, you lean back into the couch. Feeling Draco’s eyes on you, you shift your head, facing him with a small smile.

Draco tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “What’s going on in that pretty little head?”

You sigh, opening your bag and pulling out the letter. Handing it to Draco, you say wryly, “Dear old mama wrote, that’s what.”

Draco scans over the letter; getting to the three lines that have played on your mind all day and have affected your eating habits so quickly.

Draco folds the letter carefully into the three; he folds it ever so neatly before ripping it to pieces in front of your eyes, leaning forward and throwing the tiny pieces into the fire.

“I hope you don’t believe a word she’s written.”

You shrug, fiddling with your fingers, “Maybe I should stop eating so much.”

Draco leaps up from the couch; spreading his arms wide, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with your weight – you do not need to lose, you do not need to gain. You are perfect the way you are. I love you to pieces, but darling, your mother is an awful person. What sort of person sends that to their child?”

He kneels on the ground in front of you, “I will love you no matter what. The sky could be green, and the clouds could be purple hedgehogs, but even that would not distract me from my love for you.”

He gestures to the pieces of parchment now turning to ash in the flames, “Everything about you is beautiful; from the top of your head to the tip of your toes – there isn’t anything about you I don’t adore. Reply to your mother if you must; tell her that you’ve let me read the letter and that I absolutely disagree with her words.”

Draco surges forward, kissing you soundly. He shifts slightly, beginning to press you into the couch, “I love you – just the way you are.”

******

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @obsessedwithrandomthings @harrypotter289 @dreamer821 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @the-hufflefluffwriter @figlia--della--luna @bforbroadway @idont-knowrn @summer-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @teheharrypotter @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @msmimimerton​ @izzytheninja​ @slytherinprincess03​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obx-beach @obxmxybxnk @sycathorn-slush @dracomalfoyswifey

[winterscaptain]

spoiled.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: happy valentine’s day! 

words: 2.1k warnings: language, over-the-top valentine’s day shenanigans

summary: “the best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds.” - nicholas sparks. au!february 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | taglist | what do you want to see next?

Aaron leaves rather early in the morning, leaving you in bed complaining with only a kiss for your trouble. 

When you eventually get up, on track to be about fifteen minutes late to the federal building, you find a pair of post-its on the fridge. 

Always the romantic. 

+++

The evening rolls around and finds you on the couch with Jess and Jack. 

“You gonna start getting ready?” Jess asks. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you.” 

You look over at her. “Wait. He told you what we’re doing?”

She nods. “Yeah. You have no idea. He hasn’t done a big Valentine’s Day thing since he surprised Haley in her senior year of college. He’s been looking for an excuse.” 

That’s terrifying. 

“Guess I better get ready then.” 

Jack’s got a funny little smile on his face, but you ignore it. You’re sure the Hotchner boys are in cahoots, but it’s not really worth it to try and wiggle anything out of him. 

You head to the master bedroom to get dressed, throwing off your slouchy day-off clothes in favor of something that can take you to a fancy dinner and whatever else Aaron has planned for your evening.

+++

You walk out of the apartment, hearing Jess lock the door behind you. When you reach the front of the apartment complex, Aaron closes the car door as he hops out, meeting you halfway to the sidewalk. 

“Hello, gorgeous,” he says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

He’s wearing a black button-up, black slacks, and his favorite pair of black oxfords. It’s a sharp look and one he knows you love. 

“You’re looking quite dapper yourself, sir.” 

The boyish grin on his face melts your heart and you take the arm he offers. Like a real gentleman, he opens the door for you and makes sure you’re inside before closing you in.

+++

The drive is quiet. You ask about the office once or twice, but it’s clear there’s nothing significant to report. 

“So...what are we doing tonight?” 

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye. “Dinner. And a few other things.” 

+++

When he says ‘dinner,’ he’s not joking. The restaurant is a high-end, no-prices-on-the-menu type of place. The lighting is low, the environment cozy and quiet. 

He must have planned this months ago. Reservations are like gold on Valentine’s Day. 

Aaron’s squinting at the menu across from you. It makes you laugh. 

“Need a flashlight and your reading glasses?”

“Shut up.” It comes with his own laugh, but he’s still squinting. 

You finally decide on something and order, trusting Aaron’s taste in wine. When the waiter leaves, Aaron reaches across the table for your hand. 

“Okay,” he says. You recognize his tone - it’s professional, like he’s starting a press conference. “No work, no kids, no serial killers.” 

You smile, waiting for him to give you a little more context. 

“How are you?” 

What a question. 

How often does the answer to that question not include work, kids, or serial killers? 

Not very. 

“I’m good.” You mean it. “I’m really good.” 

There’s a small smile on his face. “Why?”

Are you profiling me now, Hotch? 

Deciding to give him shit, you ask, “Why am I good, or is that a more general existential question?” 

He rolls his eyes and you relent. 

“Alright. Well…” You take a breath. “There are a lot of things to be happy about. You, for one thing.” 

“Me?” He asks. He looks genuinely surprised. 

Fool. 

“Yes, you.” You squeeze his hand. “You are my best friend and somehow - somehow - I’ve landed you as my partner. I am living out everything I dreamed of at twenty-five.” 

That pulls another smile from him. “Really?” Again, he looks genuinely surprised. 

Can’t believe I’ve never told this to him. 

Ridiculous

“Oh yeah. I can’t believe you never noticed. I had a huge crush on you - instantly. Derek gave me nothing but hell once he figured it out.” You pause. “Do you remember that time on the plane, really early on, when I woke up and everyone thought I had a nightmare?” 

Looking a little confused by your change in direction, and you don’t blame him. 

“I think so? I remember we all felt so bad.” He shrugs. “We all get them, of course - still do - but we were worried about you.”

“Right. So -” 

Aaron’s head tilts to the left as he interrupts you. “Did you say ‘everyone thought’ it was a nightmare?” 

Your face gets hot and you suddenly regret bringing this up at all. “Yeah. I’m getting to that.” 

With an embarrassed huff, you continue. “So, it wasn’t a nightmare.” 

“No?” The question comes accompanied by a frown. 

“No. It was a sex dream. About you.” 

You can tell he’s doing his best to hide his smile for your benefit, but there’s a threatening dimple that gives him away and you’ve simply known him too long for him to get away with anything. 

“Really?” His tone is neutral, polite, but you can hear the humor behind the apparently bland interest. 

“Yep.” 

“What - if I may ask - was it about? Specifically?” 

You take a breath and adopt the same kind of ironic professionalism as Aaron. “Well, now it doesn’t seem so notable, because i’m more than familiar with your, um, technique.” 

And it’s true. Though you hardly remember the details of the dream anymore - it's been years - you know that real life doesn’t even come close. 

Aaron pulls his hand from yours and steeples his fingers under his chin. He’s the picture of interest, so you continue. 

“The key points are as follows -” 

He holds up a finger, and you stop. “On second thought,” he says. “I think this recollection would be better served by a demonstration.”

You nod. “You’re probably right.” 

“I’ll pencil it in.” 

You grin at each other for a moment, the back-and-forth of it so deeply on brand you can’t help but steep in it for a second. 

“So,” he says, “as you were saying before…?” 

“Right.” 

Back to business. 

“I had a huge crush on you and could swear you were the most handsome man I’ve ever seen.” 

Never one to forgo an opportunity to compliment him when he’s not actively swatting at you, you continue. 

“In the lecture you gave with Gideon and Derek, I knew you were in charge before you said anything. Even though Gideon had the years and experience on you, it was clear that everything came through you.” You attempt to explain the inarticulable. “There’s a kind of steadiness - one you still have - that radiates off of you.” 

The two of you sit in that for a moment. 

You continue. “And then, of course, when we met again I had to really focus on not making an ass of myself in front of Strauss.” 

He laughs. His laughter makes you laugh, of course. It’s so much higher than his speaking register, so delightful in its unexpectedness. 

“Okay, okay.” You stop, covering your face with your hands. “Okay this is cheesy. Promise not to laugh.” 

His eyebrows rise and he forces his mouth into something that only threatens a dimple once more. 

“When you shook my hand in Radner’s office, there was this crazy jolt of energy or something that just flew up my arm. It was wild. I’ve never been able to forget it, almost like a flashbulb memory.”

As promised, he doesn’t laugh. There is, however, a kind of wonder in his eyes when he replies, “You felt that, too?”

+++

After dinner (and dessert), Aaron takes your hand and ushers you into the car when you leave the lod. He doesn’t turn the way you expect. 

“Where are we going?” 

The dashboard casts a glow on his face. You can still spot a dimple in the dark. “You’ll see.” 

+++

Your disbelief only grows when you go deeper into the city and pull up to the Hay-Adams. The valet opens the door for you, while Aaron hands over the keys to his SUV. Once all the details are covered, you take his arm again and let him guide you into the lobby. 

It’s expansive. The Hay-Adams is, of course, one of the most historic buildings in the district and considered one of the best hotels on the East Coast by people who know of these things. 

Aaron confirms the reservation and gets the room cards before promptly finding the elevator and swiping in for the seventh floor. You look down, remembering your attire at the last minute. 

“Aaron, I don’t have my go bag.” 

He shakes his head, still looking forward. “Don’t need it.” 

You scoff. 

He doubles down. “Do you trust me?”

Stupid question. 

“Of course.” 

“Go with it. I’m trying to spoil you.” He turns and presses his lips to yours, taking your face in his hand. Against your mouth, he says, “Let me.” 

+++

The room is gorgeous - a one bedroom suite with a living room, balcony, and kitchenette, a huge couch dominates the center of the open living area, opposite an impressive television. Through the open door, you catch a glimpse of a king-sized bed. 

This must have cost a small fortune. 

As if reading your mind, Aaron takes your hand and tugs you forward. You land against his chest and he smiles at you. “Don’t think too hard. Come with me.” 

You follow him out to the balcony and the view takes your breath away. The White House, well-lit in the D.C. nighttime, sits right across the street. From here, you can see Lafayette Square - beyond it, almost the whole city. 

When you come back to yourself, you realize there’s an outdoor loveseat and a small table, holding champagne (on ice) and chocolate-covered fruit. 

Champagne, chocolate, fancy dinner… The whole nine. 

Spoiled indeed. 

Aaron sits, pulling you down beside him. He pours two glasses of champagne - mostly for show, and moves the bucket to the ground. The fruit goes off to the side table and his feet go up on the small table, crossing at the ankles. You curl up against him, tucking under his arm. 

“Do you like it? Too much?” 

You can hear the genuine insecurity behind his cheeky question. You press a kiss to the back of his hand. “I love it. It is too much, but it’s very thoughtful. You twist to kiss the underside of his jaw. “Thank you.” 

With that, the two of you settle in, quietly enjoying the company and the quiet. It’s cold, but with the outdoor heater, it’s comfortable enough that you don’t need your coat. 

“Okay.” 

Aaron sits up. “Yes?” 

“You asked, so it’s only fair. No work, no kids, no serial killers. How are you?” 

He pulls you over so you’re sitting across his lap. You rest your head on his shoulder, your hand smoothing over the soft fabric of his button-up before placing it over his heart. 

“I’m good,” he says. “I’m really good.” 

“Why?” You feel a little like a parrot, but you’re sure that’s what he’s going for. 

“I can’t...quite articulate how lucky I feel.” 

That’s relatable. 

“I’m happy to be here with you.” He shakes his head - a pensive gesture. “I never thought I could make it here again.” 

“Where?” You ask. 

“In love, happy, facing a future that doesn’t scare me. My son is happy, safe...I wasn’t sure I'd ever have any of that again after losing Haley.” 

He pauses and you can feel a little sardonic smile. You don’t have to see it to know it’s there. His next admission, though, surprises you. 

“I accepted that I would be a bystander in your life a long time ago. I accepted that I would likely remain a widower, a single father. I knew you’d be around and that I would be your friend, but I made peace with the idea that I’d never have you right here.” He squeezes you twice, in time with his words. It makes you smile. 

He shakes his head and lets out a little laugh. “I’m not sure it’ll ever sink in.” 

You feel much the same, but it's kind of at once alarming and amusing to hear him so beautifully articulate feelings that so closely resemble your own. 

You lean back to look at him. “I’m glad you were wrong.”

He places a gentle finger under your chin and kisses you, long and languid. It’s a promise. After a little while, he leans back, brushing the back of his fingers over your cheek. 

“Me too.”

+++

tagging: @avengersbau @ambicaos @angelsbabey @arganfics @averyhotchner @bwbatta @capricorngf @cevanswhre @crazyshannonigans @criminalsmarts @deagibs @forgottenword @genevievedarcygranger @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @hurricanejjareau @joanofarkansass @kelstark @prentisswrites @little-blue-fishie @lotties-journey-abroad @mandylove1000 @missdowntonabbey @mrs-dr-reid @pan-pride-12 @popped-weasels @quillvine @qvid-pro-qvo @reidingmelodies @roses-and-grasses @shesbiochem4 @ssahotchnerr @ssaic-jareau @ssareidbby @starsandasteroids @stxrrywildflower @sunflowersandotherthings @sunshine-em @teamhappyme @this-broken-band-girl @ughitsbaby @unicorn-bitch @luciilferss @violet-amxthyst @word-scribbless @writefasttalkevenfaster @zizzlekwum @iconicc @avatarkorraswife @mooneylupinblack @ssworldofsw @nuvoleincielo @kaemarie23 @violentvulgarvolatile @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @rousethemouse @baumarvel @reidtomestyles @dreamsonthewall @jhiddles03 @willlemonheadsupremacy @infinity1321 @messyhairday-me @itsalwaysb33nyou @s-unflowxr @imlottiie @stummdummrumstehen @hqtchner @finnologys @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @hothothotchner @the-falling-in-the-danger @mac99martin @ssahotchner99 @vagabond-ing     @itsmytimetoodream @rebel-flying  @nuvoleincielo @rqgnarok @ssa-volturi @reidyoulikeabook @schlooper @itsmytimetoodream @bau-baby @ssagube @oreogutz @lexieshuntingsstuff @saintsmotels @hotchestie @marvelousmissmaggie @mosiacbrokenhearstf

[starryeyedweeb]

Valentine’s Day with BNHA

A/N: I know it’s late for Valentine’s Day, but this is about the fifth time I’ve tried posting this because every other time it never got a single note even though all of my other stuff does pretty well??? So not to be that person, but if you see this I’m begging you to give it some love because it’s one of my favorites!

*DISCLAIMER*: As I’m over eighteen, I write all underaged characters aged up to be eighteen or older.

Contains: As always, sickly-sweet fluff; gender-neutral

Characters Included: Todoroki Shoto, Bakugou Katsuki, Yaoyorozu Momo, Shigaraki Tomura, Dabi/Todoroki Touya, Aizawa Shota

Valentine’s Day with...

Bakugou Katsuki

As expected, Bakugou thinks that Valentine’s Day is kind of ridiculous and isn’t too keen on celebrating

When his friends ask him what he’s planned for the holiday, it results in a bit of a rant

“Valentine’s is a shitty holiday for shitty partners to try and make up for being shitty. I take them on dates and spoil them all the time, so why should I make a big deal about a random day in February?”

But because he wasn’t a shitty partner, he knows he has to do something for you

“Oi, do you want to go hiking?” he asks shortly on Valentine’s morning, already dressed for the occasion. “We can go to that spot you’ve wanted see for a while.”

You agree- eagerly.

You honestly weren’t the biggest fan of hiking until you started dating Bakugou, who’s obsessed with it

It’s like meditation to him- one of the best ways for him to find a calm and clear mindset- and the two of you always have your best conversations when you’re out on a hike

Plus he looks amazing in his hiking clothes

The trail in question is further outside the city than most, and when you arrive, it’s pleasantly deserted

With backpacks swung over your shoulders, the two of you start down the rough path, which cuts through a thick forest

When you first started hiking, you could barely keep up with Bakugou, but you had gotten much better at it over time and are now able to comfortably keep pace with him, even holding his hand part of the time

The trail is mainly uphill, though, and periodically he will all but force a water bottle into your hands

“Get a drink. I don’t want you getting all dehydrated on me.”

When you reach the peak of the trail, which is a flat clearing overlooking the city below, Bakugou indicates for you to sit down and pulls out two bento boxes that he had packed prior to the event

Though there’s nothing heart-shaped nor unnaturally red or pink inside, the box is sweetly filled with all of your favorite bento foods

And of course, they all taste amazing

“Katsuki, this is so good!”

“I know.”

“Come on.” You playfully push his arm, feeling his muscles rippling beneath his jacket. “Seriously, though, thank you. Life has been so crazy lately, and this little break was perfect.”

“So you’re not upset we didn’t do anything more, I don’t know...” he trails off, furrowing his brow and running a hand through his hair, “...on theme?”

“Of course not. Stuff like that is for shitty partners who use a holiday as an excuse to make up for being shitty. They’ll go right back to their behavior the moment the day is over.” You interlace your fingers in his and hold his arm with your free hand. “This was perfect.”

Bakugou can’t resist a smirk and short chuckle at your sentiment, realizing exactly why he’s with you

“Hey, what’s that look for?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “Kiss.”

You reach up and press your lips to his, and his arms wrap around your body, holding you close

When you pull away, you cast a glance out at the tranquil cityscape below and reluctantly check the time.

“Do you think we should head back down?” you ask.

“No. I want to stay here a little while longer.”

Todoroki Shoto

As one of the top heroes, Todoroki Shoto is a hard man to get alone, but you have high hopes for Valentine’s Day.

On the morning of February 14, the two of you check into the luxury hotel he had booked for a romantic staycation, awaiting an entire day of activities planned around the resort: lunch and dinner reservations, a couple’s massage, seeing the hotel’s nightly show...

Only for it to all be completely foiled before it even starts when Shoto gets an urgent call about a villain incident gone badly wrong, with as many heroes as possible desperately needed to help.

“Go ahead and do everything we had planned,” he urges as he’s leaving, rushing through a parting kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

But you know that it’s not going to be as simple as “I’ll be right back.”

The moment the door shuts behind him, you can’t help but turn on the TV and flip to the news, trying to find out just what Shoto had gotten himself into

The danger of the situation makes you sick with anxiety, and you have to turn it off almost immediately for the sake of your own sanity

Trying to follow his wishes, you go through the motions of the day you had planned, but instead of reaping the intended benefits of rest and relaxation, your brain is completely clouded with worry for Shoto’s safety

Which is only amplified when the hotel lobby has the news on with a crowd of people clumped together before it to see what’s going on, and the receptionist approaches you to ask if you’re alright

Dark falls with no sign of Shoto, but your heart leaps when you get the news notification that the battle is over

You turn the news back on for live coverage of the heroes that participated being interviewed about the events, but your stomach knots once again when you see no sign of Shoto

They haven’t mentioned any casualties, you wonder, but have they missed him or something?

When a knock echoes throughout the room, a cold feeling of dread washes over your body

You freeze and merely stare at the door, sure you’re about to receive the news that’s the worst nightmare of any partner of a hero

Until the door opens, and reveals Shoto holding a bouquet the size of his torso, looking a bit battered but otherwise alright

You launch yourself across the room, and he drops the flowers to engulf you in his arms

“God, Shoto,” you sob. “No matter how long I’ve been with you, waiting and worrying never gets any easier.”

“I know, I know,” he murmurs back, stroking your hair. “But I’m here now. I’m fine. I ran here the moment I could get away.”

When you finally allow him to pull away, he hands you the flowers, and you call room service for a vase and a first-aid kit

You sit Shoto on the bed and tend to his minor wounds, then order some of your favorite comfort foods for a very late dinner

Shoto is never one to discuss his missions right after the fact, so instead you just talk about nonsense things, like the most recent episode of your favorite show to watch together, and where the two of you wanted to go on your next vacation

Afterward, the two of you lay in the dark, so tangled together that it’s nearly impossible to tell who’s whom

Neither of you are tired at all, realizing fully that the privilege of getting to hold each other like you are was almost taken away that day

You feel your eyes start to well up at just how much you love the man next to you, realizing how much you need him

Shoto seems to sense that you’re going to a dark place, so he traces his fingers lightly against your cheek and breaks the silence.

“I forgot to tell you. I extended our stay here so we can still celebrate like we were planning to. I’m sorry I had to go today.”

“Shoto, you don’t have to be sorry.” You cup his cheek back, a few tears spilling out of your eyes as they meet his. “I’m just so glad you’re safe and that you’re here with me.”

Yaoyorozu Momo

Recently, an adorable little paint-your-own-pottery studio had opened on yours and Momo’s route home

You two had always meant to go for a fun date, but never really had the time, so when a Valentine’s event is announced, you both leap at the opportunity and reserve your spots right away

When Valentine’s Day arrives, you and Momo show up half an hour early for the event, wearing coordinating shades of red and pink

Laughing at your accidental matching, the two of you kill the time until the event begins by taking a million photos together

When the doors to the shop open and you’re finally allowed in, Momo’s eyes nearly pop out of her head in excitement, and you just know it’s going to become a regular date spot for the two of you

The shop is decorated like a romantic tea shop straight out of a cheesy movie, with lace doilies marking work stations, faux roses as centerpieces, and red, white, and pink balloons covering the ceiling

The special event involves painting spindly teacups with handles shaped like hearts, the workstations supplied with punch and sweets, all colored and shaped for the holiday

“Look at these!” She exclaims, picking up the ceramic cup at her workstation. “What should we paint on them?”

“Why don’t we do a matching design?” you suggest. “That way we can remember this even better.”

“Yes, let’s do that!” she agrees. “What design should we do, then?”

You two decide to keep it simple: paint the mugs solid baby pink, stamp tiny red hearts all around, and then Momo would use her elegant handwriting and paint both of your initials in calligraphy on one of the faces.

You ready your stations and sit shoulder-to-shoulder as you work, chatting and giggling the entire time, occasionally nudging each other playfully with your legs

“Could you hold the cup at this angle for me while I do the calligraphy?” she requests, which gives you an excuse to sit even closer to her, the scent of her rosy perfume engulfing you

“I wish I had handwriting like that,” you whine, watching her paint the graceful swirls of your initials, followed by the date below.

“I can teach you,” she offers, coming to stand behind you. “Here.”

She puts her hand over yours, and guides it along in the shape of the letters, her free arm looping around the front of your shoulders in a casual hug

“See? You’ve done it!”

“It still doesn’t look nearly as good as yours.”

“Well, my heart stamps don’t look nearly as good as yours. I don’t think I applied enough pressure.” She returns to her own seat, stares at you for a few moments, then giggles. “Speaking of, you’ve got paint on your face. Come here.”

You lean forward so she can wipe off the paint with a gentle touch, and she places a kiss on the now-clean spot.

“There. All better.”

When the two of you finish painting the mugs, you turn them into the counter so they can be finished in the kiln, then sit by the window of the shop to enjoy your sweets while you wait

“I’m very excited about these cups,” Momo says, reaching out for your hand. “They’ll be a lovely little keepsake.”

“Me, too,” you agree, resting your head on her shoulder. “It’ll be nice to have tea in them every evening.”

“Exactly. And if there’s ever a time when we have to be separated, whether it be for hero work or some other reason, we can bring our cups with us to remember that the other is always there, waiting to come have tea together.”

Shigaraki Tomura:

Despite his villainous ideals, in romance, Shiggy is actually quite sweet, if not a little clumsy

When you first became close to him, his unhealthy lifestyle and lack of self-care worried you, so you made a habit of cooking for Shigaraki, and leaving a week’s worth of nutritious meals in the League’s fridge for him

He had never revealed this to you, but he appreciated it so much, and wanted to return the favor

When Toga mentioned something about Valentine’s Day, he knew that it was his perfect opportunity, and made his plans by ordering everyone of the League to get out and stay out for the night

He then did some research about something good to make you, wracking his brain to try and remember what you’ve mentioned liking, until he remembers a very important fact:

He can’t cook.

At all.

Has never even once tried.

Which poses an obvious problem.

He panicked for a few moments, until he landed on a new, and possibly better, idea

When you arrive for the date, dressed comfortably (because, as much as you love Shigaraki, you know that there’s no way you’ll be going out for Valentine’s Day), you’re a little bit surprised to find him standing in the kitchen

“Shiggy?” You approach the counter warily. “What are we doing tonight?”

“I can’t cook. I want to know how.”

“You want me to teach you how to cook?”

“Yes. I want to know how to make your favorite meal.”

“Okay. That’s simple enough.” You make to join him in the kitchen, but he blocks your path.

“No. I want to make this for you. Just sit down and...tell me what to do.”

That proves to be quite a bit more difficult, as you never truly understood just how hard it would be to explain cooking to someone that has never used more than a microwave before

The music you had put on in the background was quickly drowned out by his frustrated swears, and you can tell that there are times when he almost loses his temper, but holds it together for the sake of your Valentine’s gift

A couple of utensils do fall victim to his decay, though, and he subtly tries to sweep the remains away in embarrassment.

At one point, his poor knife technique leaves a decently sized cut on his finger, and you jump into action, running for a First-Aid kit

“I’m not a child,” he mutters as you clean the small wound, avoiding your eyes.

“I know,” you reply lightly, pressing a playful kiss to the bandage you had just secured.

As Shigaraki comes close to finishing the meal, you raid Kurogiri’s stores for your favorite bottle of wine, pouring two glasses and setting them out on the table.

“Does this look right?” Shigaraki asks once the final timer goes off, warily holding out his creation.

“You tell me,” you answer. “I’ve made this for you before. It looks the same to me.”

When the two of you sit down and portion out the meal, Shigarki neglects his own plate as he watches you take your first bite

You fight to keep your face neutral, because honestly, it’s god awful, even though you had been right there the whole time, telling him exactly what to do

But you really didn’t expect anything more from a first time-cook, and even though the flavor is completely wrong, you still enjoy it, because you can practically taste how much this prickly mass-murderer actually cares for you

And as twisted as your situation is, you wouldn’t change it for the world

“Is it good?” Shigaraki mumbles from across the table, pulling you from your thoughts.

You take a sip of your wine. “Thank you so much, Tomura. This was such a thoughtful gift. I really appreciate it.”

“I knew it. It’s shit.” He pushes his own plate away in frustration. “I just wanted to pay back a favor and I can’t even do that right.”

“Shig, what did I just say? I appreciate this so much.” You round the table to his seat, rubbing his shoulders and planting a kiss on the top of his head. “Of course your first attempt doesn’t work. But that gives us something new to do together. For tonight, we’ll order some takeout, but starting tomorrow, I’ll give you another cooking lesson, and then another, and another, and another... as many as it takes until you can make a whole meal for me by yourself. Deal?”

He meets your gaze with a puppy-dog expression, placing his palms over where your hands rested on his chest.

“Deal.”

Dabi/Todoroki Touya:

Let’s just say that Dabi isn’t one to ignore traditions.

He’s one to very openly and dramatically oppose them.

You were anxious if not a little worried to see what he was going to have planned for Valentine’s Day- but, honestly, as his partner, you’re equally as unconventional in your own ideals

And he doesn’t disappoint, coming home with tickets to a ghost tour at the most haunted spot in town.

“Do they even do these on Valentine’s Day?”

“Obviously. That’s when I got the tickets for.” He shrugs. “Apparently it’s a thing that people do.”

“Hopefully not very many people. You know how we hate crowds.”

“And hopefully it’s not overtly themed for this asinine holiday.” He takes your waist and whispers the next words in your ear. “The idea of a dark room and an invisible audience is romantic enough.”

“Oh, stop it.”

“I just made you more excited, didn’t I?”

“You’ll have to wait until the day to find out.”

When Valentine’s Day arrives, you dress for the occasion and meet Dabi at a glamorous hotel in an older part of town

Before the tour begins, the guide allows the guests to go to the bar for some drinks, and begin to tell the story of the hotel and the paranormal activity that had sparked the attraction

Dabi seems uninterested, taking in the architecture of the historic buidling and peering down random hallways

“I’m getting bored of this,” he mutters in your ear. “I’m ready to see something interesting.”

“Shh, Dabi, I’m trying to listen,” you whisper back.

He responds by pinching your ass. “So, are you in a naughty mood tonight? Noted.”

“Stop it,” you mutter, lightly pushing him away, but your flushed skin is a dead giveaway to how you truly feel about the situation.

When the tour actually starts, you and Dabi round out the end of the group as it descends into a long, dark hallway.

Eventually, you feel Dabi’s hand leave its spot around your waist, but you’re so distracted listening the tour guide tell stories at the front to even notice.

Until cold hands grab you from you behind and give you a violent shake, growling animalistically in your ear

You let out a terrified scream, but the laugh that comes after is all-too-familiar

“Dammit, Dabi!” you gasp, doubling over to your breath and quiet your heartbeat.

“Aha.” His hands trail down your sides and squeeze your waist. “Gotcha.”

You eventually reach the main event of the tour, which is an old storeroom that had been unused for years due to the intense paranormal activity

Dabi actually stood still next to you with his arm slung around your shoulders, interested for the first time that night as the guide used the ghost box and actually got answers from the spirits that occupied the room.

Though there are a few times when you have to stop him from pulling some prank to scare the other people taking the tour, trying to convince them that they’re actually in immediate danger of possession

When the event is over, however, and the guide is ushering people back down the hallway, Dabi pulls you into a closet, igniting a small flame on his palm and pressing a finger to his lips

When the noise of the crowd filing out is gone, he presses forward forcefully and starts to bury you in deep, passionate kisses

“Wait, wait.” You pull back once you realize what his idea is. “Isn’t this a little...scary?”

“Isn’t that what makes it fun?”

Aizawa Shota

Valentine’s Day happened to fall around one of Aizawa’s busiest times at UA, and he was so tied up and tired that you had barely seen one another lately.

So, when he remembers what’s coming up and drowsily asks you what you want to do for Valentine’s Day, you surprise him.

“I’ve already made plans for us,” you reveal, handing him a printed itinerary. “I booked us a spot at a day spa. Those are all the treatments we’ll be doing.”

“Why’d you choose this? I’m curious.”

“You need some time to relax, and I want to spend time with you when your mind is on something other than which one of your students is going to get broken next.”

“Fair enough.”

On the morning of, the two of you check into the spa, and are instructed to go change into the fluffy bathrobes they provided

“Do I really have to put this on?” he complains, holding it as one might hold a dirty diaper.

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask, already changed into yours.

“I don’t know how I feel about my chest being out on display like this.”

“Well, I’ll like it.” You snake your hand up his shirt and rake your nails down his skin. “C’mon. We’re going to be late for our couple’s massage.”

Once Aizawa has reluctantly changed, the two of you start off your day with massages and facials

You had arranged for him to get a special eye treatment, and the small sounds of relief from his table reveals that your gift is very much appreciated.

“Are you relaxed?” you inquire as you move on from the massage room to your next destination.

“More relaxed I’ve been since I stepped through the doors of UA for the first time.”

“Well, are you relaxed enough to get a hair treatment?”

“Honestly? Bring it on.”

When Aizawa is laying back in a chair, a towel wrapped around his head and a styling cape draped over his robe, you can’t help but snap photos of the slightly comical scene

“Are you taking pictures?” he grumbles.

“Do you mind that I am?”

“Just as long as my students never see it.”

“Noted,” you reply, adding the photo to an album of embarrassing pictures you planned to show them at the end of the term.

After finishing the hair treatment- Aizawa’s hair looking better than you could ever dream yours would- and moving on to a high-tech infrared light treatment, you finished out the day with a soak in the spa’s top-rate onsen, reserved for just the two of you

You sit in comfortable silence in the hot water, bodies pressed close to each other

Shota’s arm was draped around your shoulder, and you loosely held the hand that fell across your body

When you lay your ear on his chest, you notice that his heartbeat is the calmest you’ve ever heard it

“So, did the spa serve its purpose?” you ask, tilting your head up to gaze at him.

“It did. Though I think it was less the spa’s doing, and more the fact that I spent an entire day with you.”

You hum happily, reaching up and tapping his chin. “Nice and well rested now, are you? You sure look pretty.”

He chuckles lightly, running a hand through your hair. “So do you.”

“Well, there’s still about an hour left until our dinner reservation,” you observe, noticing the clock on the wall. “Is there anything you want to do to kill the time before then?”

“We’re both sitting in hot water, naked,” he replies matter-of-factly. “The answer should be obvious.”

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. four.

three < current > five

March 2017

White Day is only a few days away when you begin to notice Rika’s form is absent from your training sessions lately. There shouldn’t be any reason for this, at least not one you’re aware of. Your class celebrated Yuta’s birthday just two days ago, and both the curse and cursed seemed fine, great even. You decide it’s best to bring this up casually - Yuta was still so skittish and Rika would be able to hear whatever you said anyways. So while you lead Yuta through a yoga session, you ask, “How’s Rika?”

He flusters and falls from his side-plank variation pose. The band he was using as an aid tangles around his calf. You debate and decide to leave him. If you touched him now, he might spontaneously combust. That thought makes you giggle a little. You move to change to a position that meant you weren’t looking at him. Hopefully, that’s less pressure.

Yuta speaks up when you’re fully downward dog, leading you to believe your plan worked. “She’s fine, yeah, fine. Just uh - tired?” You nod but inwardly roll your eyes. You shift your hips in to move to upward facing dog and make eye contact again.

“Just checking. I miss her hanging out, you know?” It’s obvious Yuta just lied, curses don’t get tired, but it’s better to not call him out this time. You just have to hope it wasn’t anything you did. “I know you fell but at this point you’re just slacking. Get back on your mat,” you say, changing the topic to something safe.

You’re back in downward facing dog when the door slides open. A familiar voice drawls, “Why are you still working out, dummy? Forgot our plans?” You scramble to your feet.

“Gumi!” You rush to hug him despite his obvious distaste. “What time is it? Do I still have time to shower or will we be late?”

Your little brother snorts and pushes you away, “Please do, you smell. You have,” he checks his watch, “fifteen minutes.”

“Gumi! That’s not enough time!” You yell, already sprinting towards the showers at the back of the gym. Yuta pouts at how quickly you seemed to forget his presence. That face doesn’t escape Megumi.

“So, you like my idiot sister?”

“W-what! No, no no no, it’s not like that! She just helps t-train me and -!” Yuta knows he’s rambling but he can’t seem to stop talking.

“Whatever,” Megumi has better things to worry about than repressed hormones. He's known that Yuta had a crush on you since the first time he came to campus to train with you after Yuta arrived. Your classmate couldn’t stop staring and seemed disheartened by the fact that you called Megumi by a shortened version of his given name. He had pouted until Satoru showed up and made a spectacle of ‘Team Gojo’ being all together again. Like you three didn’t, at minimum, have a weekly dinner together.

“If you ever want to acknowledge them, you’ll have to get approved by Satoru.” Yuta feels like he also needs the approval of this boy, but he leaves that unsaid. Just nods dumbly. Probably a good thing he didn’t respond, because you barrel through the doors you disappeared from.

When you rush past him, Yuta gets a strong whiff of the floral scent he’s come to associate with you. Megumi laughs under his breath at the blissed out look. Your hair drips water onto your tee shirt and it’s clear you rushed. “Really, really sorry to dip, Yuta. Run through those stretches we did last week to cool down!” Your fingers distractedly pull your wet hair into a braid as you instruct him. “Oh! Tell Maki I won’t be at afternoon training, Satoru already knows and gave permission. Megumi, grab my duffel?” Already carrying it, he rolls his eyes. “I should be back tomorrow morning, but don’t count on it.”

“Wait, but why -?”

“Gotta dash. Bye, Yuta!” You run ahead of your brother, headed to your room to grab Tsumiki’s gifts. Megumi gives a nod and follows after you. Alone and without anyone around to judge, Yuta groans and buries his face into his yoga mat. God, why can’t he just be normal.

When he looks back up, Rika has taken your spot on your mat. You left in such a hurry, you didn’t even clean up. He’ll have to drop it off in your room. “Ya’ know, it’s not that I’m mad about you liking her,” she begins. “It’s just…. I know we can’t be together so I do want you to be happy. I just feel jealous. Especially since you got her that super fancy chocolate for White Day,” Rika finishes with a pout.

Yuta doesn’t really know how to reassure her. So he does what he promised when he was ten, and is just honest. “I’m here to learn how to let you go, Rika. Neither of us know how to do that yet. I can’t be in any kind of relationship until I learn. It wouldn’t be fair to either of you.”

Rika hums and picks at the corner of your mat. “Well. I think it’s more than just us two you’re worried about.”

“What?”

“Inumaki seems pretty interested in the both of you too. You may not see it, but all three of you are pretty smitten. It’s actually kind of gross.”

“That’s - he - no!” Rika just laughs and dissolves her form. Yuta, still flustered, continues to mutter as he collects the things you left and wipes down any used equipment. When he finally leaves, it’s just his luck he runs (literally) into Inumaki who looks unfairly handsome in a fitted tee and sweatpants. Even his markings are uncovered, which makes Yuta groan, tuck tail, and run away. Yuta can hear Rika laughing in his mind.

“Tuna mayo?” Inumaki tilts his head to the side but shrugs off the odd behavior.

-

July 2017

JJH Thots the good gojo: guysss help which tie do i get :( fushiguro: isn’t satoru with you the good gojo: yea but u know he’s shit at gifts maki: Both of those are ugly, (y/n). Do you hate the man? osamu: the cheetah print trophy husband: I like that one too! the good gojo: this is why you two are my favorites

From a few cities over, Yuta flushes at your words. Inumaki notices and kicks his foot. He’s laughing when he says, “Nori,” but Yuta can spot a faint pink over the hem of his collar too.

You turn around in the middle of the street when you hear a loud, “(y/n)-chan!” Satoru is speed-walking towards you, waving an arm that is covered in different shopping bags. His long legs have him beside you in a split second, even without the use of cursed energy. “Are you done yet? Nanami won’t even thank you properly you know. Why don’t you just get gifts for your precious Nii-chan?” He pouts and takes the two bags you’re carrying.

“One, it’s not your birthday. Two, you could buy anything you want already. Three, who's to say I didn’t already get you one?” You pull a box of macaroons out from one of the bags he took. Satoru moves to snatch it immediately but you put it behind your back. Of course, if he wanted, he’d just grab it, but your Nii-chan would never deny playing a game with you. “You can’t get it until we’re back on campus! I’m already tired and this is my bribe to go home early.”

“But (y/n)-chan,” he whines.

“Nu-uh. I promised a movie night with Toge and Yuta and I don’t wanna be late.” You realize too late you revealed too much, because your brother suddenly looks like a very successful cat.

“Why didn’t you just say so? I would never make my little sister late for her first date.”

You blush furiously, “Who says it’s my first?”

“It better be your first.”

“It’s not even a date,” you roll your eyes. “Neither like me like that, and if it was a date, wouldn’t one be a third-wheel?”

“Tricycles are pretty fun.” Your brother says casually. You roll your eyes again and add a gag for good measure. “Seriously, (y/n). You should know you have my full support to love anyone and everyone you want. Not that you need it, though. You’re a Gojo. We do as we please anyways.”

You tear up at his sincerity and throw your arms around your brother, or at least the best you can with his bags in the way. The two of you are frequently physically and verbally affectionate but not often in such a serious manner. You know there’s a deep love between you; for a long time, the two of you only had each other. Eventually, your family expanded to include Megumi and Tsumiki, but neither ever took the Gojo name. You and Satoru had a special bond. “Thank you,” you stutter around tears. You hope he understands it’s not just a thank you for the reassurance but a thank you for giving you such a life.

“Come on, no crying. You can’t go on your date with puffy eyes, you’ll scare both of them away.” He pats your head softly and just laughs when you punch him in the gut.

[incorrectbandofbrothersquotes]

You Better, You Better, You Bet - Chapter 9

As Long as You’re Mine

Ron Speirs x Juliet Fletcher

Summary: Juliet Fletcher reaches a breaking point in her life. When she is at her absolute lowest, she meets Ron Speirs, and something happens between them that neither of them will ever forget.

Word Count: 4.1K

Tag List: @vintagelavenderskies @how-are-those-nuts-sarge @iilovemusic12us @hesbuckcompton-baby @tvserie-s-world @whovian45810 @50svibes @cagzzz107 @evelynshelby @piano-isnt-my-forte​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this update!

Warning(s): None :)

Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4  Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8

AO3 link

Chapter 9 let’s go!!!

“Okay, how does this sound?” Juliet asked Ron, who sat on her bed as she put together her story of the trial. He was careful not to recline, lest he disturb her pages of notes carefully organized atop the quilt. “Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Mrs. Fisher was arrested and charged with the murder in September of last year. Her lawyer, Mr. Harvey Cooper, originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher herself admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made.” 

“I’d read that,” Ron replied. 

Juliet huffed and looked around her room at the Blue Boar. Papers littered the floor, pens were nowhere to be found, and her typewriter was mocking her. Now that the trial was finished - with such a dramatic twist - she was hard at work, trying to ensure she reported it just right. An impossible task, it felt like.

“Okay, but would you read it because I’m your girlfriend or because of the writing?” she asked. 

“The writing,” he told her. “It’s simple, it explains everything.” 

“It feels a bit long for the lead,” she said. “Perhaps I should put the bit about her arrest in the nut graph.” 

“That does feel more like background information,” he agreed. 

She pulled a pencil from behind her ear, scratched out the sentence, and began again. “So, it’d go like this - Meredith Fisher confessed to the murder of six-year-old Peggy Lee in front of the courtroom before her trial began. Her lawyer - I’m gonna take out his name and have that later - so, Her lawyer originally planned to plead not guilty, but in a shocking turn of events, Mrs. Fisher admitted to the jury she killed Peggy Lee before even opening arguments could be made. Then I’ll go into when she was arrested, the details of the murder, then the evidence the prosecution had prepared, and finish with her sentencing date. How’s that?” 

“I think it’s perfect,” he said. 

She chewed her lip. “Should I use the word shocking? I don’t want to tell the readers how to feel.” 

“When she confessed, what was the first thing you heard?” he asked. 

“Gasps,” she answered. 

“There’s your shock,” he said. 

Juliet had to concede that point. Ron almost didn’t believe her when she told him the story. The judge had barely gotten the words “How do you plead?” out before Meredith let out a wail like wounded animal and confessed to the whole gruesome thing. She sobbed that she was sorry, but she knew she had to be punished. She wasn’t safe. And truthfully, Juliet felt bad for her. It was truly one of the most pitiful things she’d ever witnessed. 

But the one thing Juliet could never forget, the image that would stick with her for all her days, was the look on Peggy Lee’s parents’ faces. The Lees watched, dignified, proud, yet misty eyed as the person who killed their daughter begged for mercy. Their grief was profoundly felt, despite their stately manner. They said nothing. They did nothing. And they spoke to no one upon their exit from the courtroom. 

“Jules?” 

Ron’s voice brought her back to the present, his hand on her shoulder making her turn to look at him. 

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “Just...it’s so unfair. If anyone had a right to be screaming and crying it was the parents.”

“They must be very English,” he said. 

“Oh, they were proper English,” she agreed. “Stiff upper lips and all. The mother did at one point hide her face in the father’s arm, but other than that, they were stoic.” 

“Thinking about including that in your story?” he wondered. 

“God, no,” she replied. “I’ll mention that they were there and offered no comments, but this isn’t that kind of article.” 

“Just the facts, huh?” 

“As usual.” 

“Juliet.”

“Yeah?”

“The article’s gonna be great,” he said.  

“How can you be so sure?” she asked. 

“Because you care this much,” he said. He accentuated the point with a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got a staff meeting. Are you alright here?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for being so patient with me.” 

He kissed her again. “I’ll see you tonight.” 

“See you later, Ron,” she returned. 

With that, he left. Juliet started trying to condense the lead again, still feeling like it was too long. There had to be a better summary. But it was a lot to try and fit into one sentence, so she resigned herself to making it more than one line. She hadn’t chosen a headline yet, either, but she usually liked to write the article first. That way she could pick out the singular most newsworthy part and headline with that. As she organized further, the phone rang. 

“Hello?” she answered. 

“Juliet, it’s Lottie.” 

“Hey, Lottie, how are you?” Juliet asked. 

“Fine, same as usual,” Lottie returned. “Otis just rang and told me about the trial. I hope you’re hard at work.” 

“Absolutely,” Juliet assured her. “I’ve nearly got the lead down. I’ve just got to get the facts organized. I’m thinking of doing a follow up story about the shortcomings of Operation Pied Piper, since Cooper’s little tidbit did prove to be true.” 

Sad as it was, Harvey Cooper was right. There was no process for vetting the families agreeing to take the children. The committee had been in such a hurry to evacuate, they had not even considered that some children could end up in more danger than they were at home in the cities. Juliet found the whole thing fascinating, and it could open up a conversation about war time protocol - be meticulous or swift? 

“I think that’ll be fine,” Lottie said. “But have you gotten any war news? I know I wasn’t enthusiastic about it initially, but you’re the only reporter I’ve got with the Airborne.” 

Juliet bit her lip. While the prospect of war news had originally driven her to accept the Peggy Lee story, she found herself conflicted about it now. Her relationship with Ron threw a wrench in it. 

“I think it’s a conflict of interest for me to cover the Airborne,” she said. 

She could practically hear Lottie’s eyes roll. “Oh, come on, Juliet, don’t be absurd.” 

“It isn’t right, Lottie!” Juliet insisted. “I’m in an intimate relationship with one of the soldiers, there’s no freeing me from bias there.” 

“You could use it to your advantage,” Lottie said. “Obviously, you can’t use him as a source, but couldn’t he lead you to the right person?” 

“I can’t ask that of him,” Juliet said. “I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.” 

“What wrong idea?” 

It was something Juliet had already put a lot of thought into. As badly as she wanted to cover the war - and it did seem like things were ramping up even more in Aldbourne - she was hesitant. She had actually considered asking Ron for a source and then immediately hated herself for it. She would not use her relationship to get ahead in her job. She couldn’t. It just wasn’t right, simple as that.

“That I’m using him,” Juliet explained. “If I ask him to get me a source, he might worry that it’s the reason I entered the relationship, and that’s not the case.” 

Lottie sighed. “So, you just want to give up on covering the war?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Juliet returned. “I’d be happy to cover something else once I get back to London, but-”

“Forget it,” Lottie cut across her. “Just focus on the trial for now and then Pied Piper, if that’s what you want.” 

“Lottie -” 

“Good afternoon, Juliet,” Lottie said harshly, hanging up before Juliet could protest any further. 

She sighed, hanging up as well, and sitting back in her chair. She had a feeling the conversation wasn’t quite over, but she’d hear more about it on her next trip home. For now, she wanted to focus on what happened at the trial. The sentencing would be in another few weeks, so she needed to get this done. 

***

Ron was right of course. The article was published and the London Pursuit sold the most copies it had in years. It surprised Juliet a little, but perhaps people were tired of war news and what better than a dramatic murder trial for a change of pace? It was morbid, sure, but Juliet knew she’d handled it as well as she could. 

Lottie called, absolutely elated by the circulation numbers. And honestly, Juliet was thrilled too. She found Ron later that day and leapt into his arms as a display of her unmitigated excitement. She’d done it, and done it well! It was cause for celebration. So they went to London for the weekend - staying with Nancy of course, since she would have had a fit at missing an opportunity to see Ron - and they went to a nice dinner, champagne and everything. Juliet could hardly believe her luck. Everything was going so perfectly. 

And that night, as they lay together in the afterglow, she looked at his face and knew she loved him. The kind of love she read about in books and poetry. The kind that crooners sang about on the radio. She’d found it. It was scary enough to admit to herself, but she determined that she would - one day soon if the opportunity presented itself - admit it to him. 

He caught her gazing at him. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” she replied. “I’m just happy you’re mine.” 

***

The sentencing hearing was not as interesting as the trial itself, but Juliet was relieved to report that Meredith Fisher was going to prison for life. There would be no chance for parole, either. So justice was served. 

However, Juliet couldn’t help but notice the look on Mr. Lee’s face. Mrs. Lee had not come for the sentencing, so it was just father. When the judge announced Meredith’s fate, Mr. Lee only closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He nodded, put a hand over his heart, and inhaled again. A single tear rolled down his cheek. It made Juliet look away so that he could have that moment for himself. To take in whatever feelings came to him. To remember Peggy and take some solace in that her killer was going away. 

“I thought I’d be happier,” Juliet told Ron as they prepared for bed that night back at the Blue Boar. “But it still just feels...rotten.” 

“Nothing can bring the girl back,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“I know,” she replied. “But I just....I suppose you’re right. What else could anyone have hoped for in this situation?” 

“Right,” he agreed. 

“I’m also grateful we didn’t have to hear that lawyer make that ridiculous argument in a courtroom,” she said. “I don’t think I could bear the looks on the parents’ faces at that.”  

“That would have been awful,” he said. 

“Even so, it feels rather anticlimactic,” she said. “Especially for the prosecution who spent months putting everything together.”

“They still got the result they wanted,” he pointed out. “So what does it matter?  

She shrugged at that. She still felt unsatisfied, as if there was something more to be done. Even though logically, she knew there wasn’t. She would write an update for the paper, and that would really be the end of it. That was when it hit her. What was really upsetting her was that now that this was over, there was no more reason for her to be in Aldbourne. Especially now that she didn’t want to cover the Airborne. It meant that she would go home to London, in turn reducing her time with Ron significantly. And that was a dreadful thought. 

***

“What do you mean you aren’t coming back to London?” Lottie cried through the phone. “What about the Pied Piper story?”

“I reckon it can wait,” Juliet said, entirely unconvincing, but she hoped Lottie was buying it. Her reasons for remaining in Aldbourne had nothing to do with her job and everything to do with the man she was in love with. “And maybe with some time, I can find my own sources on war news.” 

Lottie remained silent for several minutes. “So, you’ve just changed your mind all of a sudden about covering the Airborne?” 

“Not completely,” Juliet lied. “I...I’m just not sure I’m quite finished here. And what if there’s something else about the Peggy Lee story that comes up? I could -” 

“Give it a rest, Juliet,” Lottie groaned. “I know you want to stay for your boyfriend.”

“That’s not -” 

Lottie cut across her protests. “Please do not insult my intelligence by suggesting otherwise. You want to be near him.” 

“You don’t sound quite as sympathetic as I hoped,” Juliet said, giving in. 

“You have a life in London, Juliet!” Lottie reminded her harshly. “You have a job to do, your mother is here, and you want to put everything on hold for some man?” 

“He’s not just some man!” Juliet argued indignantly. “He’s...different from any man I’ve ever known. And what we have means more to me than anything I’ve ever known.” 

She glanced down at the necklace that sparkled against her skin. A constant reminder of how much she meant to him as well. 

“Oh, come off of your cloud, will you?” Lottie snapped. 

“Lottie,” Juliet said seriously. “The whole time I was with Arthur, did you ever know me to put him before work? Or my family?”

“No, so why is this Ron fellow -”

“Because it is different,” Juliet emphasized. “This is it, Lottie. He’s the one.” 

That seemed to stump her. “Has he...proposed?”

“No, he hasn’t,” Juliet said. “I don’t even care if he does.”

Lottie scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous, you can’t just carry on living in sin.” 

Juliet rolled her eyes. “Could you please pay attention to what's important here? There’s a man in my life who I genuinely see a happy future with and I just...I want to focus on that. Is that so wrong?” 

“I suppose not,” Lottie sighed, and Juliet inwardly celebrated a moment of victory. “But I can’t pay you if you aren’t working. At least be making the proper phone calls to follow this Pied Piper story. Conduct interviews of other families there who have taken in children from the cities. Part of the story is there if you know where to look.” 

“No problem,” Juliet said. “You’ll be glad to know I’ve already begun. I’ve got an interview with the Barnes family next week, who are housing a little girl. I’ll ask them about how the process went for them.” 

“Perfect,” Lottie said. She paused for a beat. “And, Juliet?”

“Yes?” 

“I really am happy for you.” 

Juliet smiled softly. “Thank you, Lottie.” 

***

Spring fully thawed the winter out by the time April arrived. Aldbourne was rather charming in bloom. But Juliet wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or that she was in love. She found herself humming a lot more than she used to - these days she didn’t even need food to start a merry tune in the back of her throat. She had more energy, despite spending rather long nights in Ron’s arms. And she found her enthusiasm for work - even though her priority shifted - a great deal easier to come by as well. 

The interview with the Barnes family went splendidly. They were also housing a couple of lieutenants from the Airborne, though they were not in Ron’s company. Juliet only exchanged brief greetings with them, as they were heading to work just as she was entering the house. She nearly melted at the connection they had formed with the girl - Ann - which was clear in their goodbyes to her for the day. She seemed particularly close to the tall redhead. 

Juliet told Ron about it that evening over drinks. 

“Yeah, that’s Winters and Welsh,” he told her. “Good officers.” 

“Do they spend much time here?” she wondered, indicating the Blue Boar.  

“Welsh does, but Winters doesn’t drink,” he said. “He spends most nights there with the family.” 

“I can tell,” she said. “I mean, it was seriously precious. She hugged his knees and he patted her on the head and I think I fell a little bit in love with him for a moment.” 

He scoffed. “Good luck, I think he has a girlfriend.” 

“Has he?” she questioned. 

“Yeah, the nurse,” he said. “She works for the regiment.” 

“You lot have your own nurse?” 

“She’s got some connection to Colonel Sink,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve never actually met her.” 

“And what about the other chap?” she asked. “Welsh?” 

“He’s engaged,” he told her. “Her name’s Kitty.” 

“You know that but not the name of the nurse?” she questioned. 

“I only know because Harry never shuts up about her,” he said. “The whole regiment knows at this point. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Krauts knew.” 

She giggled. “I think that’s sweet.” 

“It’s obnoxious.” 

“You mean, you don’t brag about me to the whole regiment?” she teased. “Romance is dead.”

“Sorry for your loss,” he retorted as he took a swig of his drink. 

“Not as sorry as I am,” she returned. “Now I’ll have to spend God knows how many hours in mourning.” 

“At least you look good in black,” he said. 

“My saving grace,” she agreed with a smile. She paused for a beat. “Seriously, you don’t talk about me at all?” 

“I do if you come up,” he told her.

“And what do you say?” she wondered.

“Whatever’s relevant,” he said. 

She rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.” 

“I prefer not to broadcast my personal life,” he said. “All they need to know is that you’re mine.” 

She smiled as she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “That’s true.” 

***

April was drawing to a close. Juliet stood in her room, preparing to go and interview another Aldbourne family about their process in fostering a child from London. These interviews were restoring the bit of faith she’d lost in covering Peggy’s story because most of the families were very kind, and doted on the children. They were proud of doing what they could to ensure the future of England. And the children were mostly happy. What happened to Peggy was a tragedy and an outlier. 

She was just getting ready to leave when Ron entered her room. A grim shadow of doubt on his features made her smile disappear as fast as it had come. Something was wrong. He definitely had bad news. 

“We’re moving out,” he told her. 

She had expected this at some point, but she still blinked in surprise. Her shoulders drooped as the reality of it percolated through her.  

“Oh,” she said. “Well...when?” 

He hesitated. “This is off the record -” 

She scowled at him, momentarily offended that he felt the need to clarify. 

“Everything between us is protected, Ron,” she said sharply. “You and I are always off the record unless stated otherwise.” 

“Sorry,” he said quickly, picking up on her tone. “I know that, I just -” 

“When?” she demanded again.

“End of May,” he said. “I don’t know when we’ll be back.” 

The if hung in the air, but remained unsaid. This was it. The moment she had been dreading since she met him. Well, maybe not that long, but since they had started getting to know each other there in Aldbourne. The war was taking him from her, like it took everything. 

“I see…” she trailed off, her annoyance easing up. That was sooner than she had hoped and she didn’t want to waste any precious time being angry at him. “Um...where - wait, I can’t ask you that.” She bit her lip. “When - oh, no, you’ve just told me, that’s right -” 

“Juliet.”

“Yes?”

“Wait for me.” 

Once again, Ron failed to disappoint her. Despite all the reassurance, she worried that when they shipped out, he would take the opportunity to break it off with her. Instead, he was asking - in his way - for a commitment from her. She held his gaze for a long moment, waiting for him to say more. But he didn’t. 

“You really want to stay together?” she asked. 

“Yes,” he said assuredly. 

“Oh, thank God,” she sighed, and she threw herself into his arms for a kiss. 

He returned the kiss with enthusiasm, his lips fiery and desperate against hers. As if he were leaving the following morning instead of a couple of weeks. But Juliet wanted the intensity. She wanted to savor every touch, every kiss, every moment she had before he was gone. She also wanted to let him know that she absolutely would wait for him. She would do anything he asked of her. She just wanted him. Forever, if possible. And if the war robbed her of that, she would at least have the memories of kisses like these. Of nights in his arms. Of his unwavering dedication to her. 

***

The arrangements were made for Juliet to return to London once Ron and the rest of the Airborne were off. On his final morning in Aldbourne, they of course made love again, only it was the after that they relished even more. Juliet etched into her brain the feeling of his embrace, the warmth of his skin, the sound of his voice. She wished desperately that she could freeze time and hold onto him for just a little longer. She had found something so wonderful and now it was being dragged away from her. 

“Jules,” he said, voice low as if there might be someone listening on the other side of the door. 

“Yeah?” 

“We’re going to France,” he said. 

She blinked and adjusted her position so she could look him in the face. “France?”

He nodded. “I wanted you to know.” 

She couldn’t explain why that felt more intimate than anything they had just done in her bed. 

“Why tell me now?” she asked, curious. 

He swallowed, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, but his arm gave her shoulders a squeeze. 

“Trust,” he said. 

She pressed her lips tenderly to his chest to let him know how much she appreciated his trust. There was no longer a need to specify on or off the record. His statements were privileged. Anything he told her would remain between them. 

For a fleeting moment, she considered telling him right then that she loved him. Because if he was going to France, there was a chance he would never come back. And shouldn’t he know just in case? But her heart told her to play it safe. If she didn’t tell him now, perhaps whatever power there was would protect him enough so that she could say it later. If there were still things left to be said, hopefully that would keep him alive. 

There were no guarantees, of course. All they had was each other and their promise.

That afternoon, the trucks began rumbling out of Aldbourne. Juliet walked Ron as far as she was allowed. Her chest felt tight as the impending goodbye hung in the air. She hated this. It was too painful. How could it be that the very war that brought them together would also be the reason for their parting? What was fair about that? Nothing, that’s what. 

A kiss from Ron drew her out of her thoughts. He held her firmly against him, almost as if he were afraid she would disappear right out of his grasp. When they parted, they were both breathless. 

“Be careful,” she said. 

His eyes searched hers. “You too.” 

Her brain was practically screaming at her to tell him now just what she felt. But she was too afraid. Too afraid it would doom him. Too afraid he wouldn’t say it back. Or even worse, say it only because of the passionate nature of the moment. It had to be when they weren’t so desperate. When they really meant it because whatever was coming was not a threat. 

“I’ll write,” she told him. 

“I’ll respond when I can,” he returned. 

She nodded. Her throat was dry and thick. The lack of tears in her eyes surprised her. How could she not be crying when she could feel her heart breaking so badly? She kissed him again. Just to prolong the last moment where he was only hers. 

“Stay safe,” she told him. 

He nodded. 

With one last kiss, they said goodbye without saying it. Juliet went to the train station and headed home to London. And Ron went to war. 

[kishillaa]

SSM21 Day 25: Culture

It was her watch turn, and even though she knows the real Kakashi is somewhere out there looking over them, and the one sleeping with his favorite orange covered novel on his face is a clone, she still wakes up for her turn. Sakura despite herself, is a light sleeper when they sleep in the wood, that's why she doesn't need Sasuke to wake her up for her shift.

It was supposed to be new year eve that night. Their team just inconveniently land themselves a faraway mission which get them to stuck in the middle of a thick forest on their way back. Supposed, they're not going to celebrate New Year that year.

Sakura's eyes roam around the places to look for Sasuke. His turn ended already, so he should be sleeping. She walked around their camping site, knowing Kakashi is watching her to find Sasuke. It was then she noticed a lit up area many feet away from their camp site.

She cautiously walk towards it, hoping to see Sasuke there, not someone else that could be an enemy. She was glad when she found Sasuke standing before a fire she could only guess he light it using his fireball jutsu.

"Sasuke-kun." She calls out softly, moving closer to him.

The said boy look over his shoulder, eyes narrowed, "Sakura. What are you doing here?"

Sakura smiles up at him, her eyes close, "Well, it's my turn to watch over. Why don't you go to sleep?"

He ignores her, and turn back to look at the fire, "It's midnight." He spoke after sometimes.

Sakura's gaze went to the fire before them, "Happy New Year."

Sasuke's hollow demeanour causes the tone of her voice sounded small, soft and calculative.

"Ahh." He doesn't elaborate as he continue to watch the fire.

"What do you do with this fire?" Sakura asked, knowing that fire brings something significant to the Uchiha clan.

"You jump over it."

"Jump?"

Sakura isn't sure if Sasuke noticed that he doesn't act like his usual self, because he is rather chatty as he explains, "A place will be chosen to accommodate the ceremony. There would be a deep hole, dig up a few days prior at the chosen location. The evening of the New Year Eve, we will gather at the place, bringing food of our own. The male adult–I'm not sure if the female is allow but I only saw the male Uchiha. They surrounded the hole and casted their own fireball into that hole. At the beginning, the fire won't light up because there weren't any wood to hold up the fire. But at the end, the fire stays."

"We jumped over it, many many times we want. Together with family, alone, with partner. I went over it so many times I lost count."

Sakura couldn't stop looking at Sasuke as he spoke, his eyes never leave the light up fire. He turns to her then, looking sorrowful, sad. Sasuke-kun is a child after all.

Sakura send him a soft reassuring smile, "It's your tradition."

Sasuke nodded, "It's part of Uchiha culture, the fire, this ceremony."

"Is it your clan way to celebrate new year?" The pinkette asked.

"More like the way we welcome the new year with family and friends. To cherish the supposed joyful year ahead." He acquired, as he lower himself, sitting crossed leg on the ground.

Sakura follows right after, bend her legs to the side, "That's so interesting. My family is small, just my parents and I. We don't have cultural and traditional stuff like this."

He didn't say anything.

"Do you still do that? After–" Sakura paused, doesn't know how to address the elephant in the room, "I mean after everything."

"I didn't." He replied, his voice small, just above a whisper.

"Why not?"

Sasuke shrugs, "It doesn't seem right."

"You mean, because there's no one else to do it with you?"

Sasuke gazes at her swiftly and stare at her for a few seconds, "It won't bring out the true meaning behind it. No family and friends to celebrate it with. No joyful year to cherish. It doesn't makes sense if I still doing it." and then he continues lowly, his eyes lowered to the ground, "It makes me feel dejected."

Sakura blinks her tears away. Sasuke-kun sounded so sad. And then, something inside Sakura snapped. She looks in Sasuke's direction, determination adorned her face. She abruptly stands on her feet, pulling Sasuke's hand to rise up with her.

"What are you doing?" Sasuke barked, glares at her menacingly.

Sakura just send him her close eyes genuine smile and gently pull him with her to walk up the tree beside them. Sasuke, even though protesting earlier, follow her. Walking on a tree has become like a nature for them since their land of waves mission just a little over a month before.

Sakura lead them to stand on the tree branch. Under them is a ground which is about a meter or so away from Sasuke's fireplace. "Is this height okay?" She asked, tightening her grip on his hand.

"We're not–" He paused as he glances below them. And even Sakura's heart responded to the look Sasuke is having; determined, mournful and longing.

"This is fine." He settles on.

"Great," Sakura chirped, "We will jumped to the other side. There's a branch there, or do you you want to go right to the ground?"

She blushes when Sasuke turn to look at her with such intense, she almost stop breathing. "Y-Yes?" She squeaks.

"We'll jumped onto the branch first, and then to the ground. And we'll do separately if you'd like." He suggested.

Sakura was nodding her head continuously, happy that he agreed with her idea. Happy that he include her in his tradition, "Okay."

"Ready?" Sasuke said, he looks excited, content, happy even.

Sakura couldn't help but feel giddy herself, "Yes!" She exclaimed. Their hold tighten in each others hand.

At Sakura's third count, they both jump simultaneously.

Sakura squeals as they both went up in the air. The cold air hit them causing the adrenaline pumped in their system making her excitement and giddiness intensify, adding the warm heat raises from the fire, and everything feels perfect. It feels weird, but fun and absolute exhilarating. Beside her, Sasuke even though doesn't screaming like she did, looking excited too. The almost un-Sasuke-like grin was plastered over his face looking at her, as she did. Too soon, they both landed on the next branch.

And then she was laughing, she doesn't know why she does, but she did. She laughs so hard that Sasuke had to support her before she falls, "This is so much fun!" She exclaimed.

"Again?" Sasuke asked, amused. And jump they did.

They were panting so hard, so very hard after their umpteenth time jump–neither care to count.

"This is so amazing." She exclaimed as she slid down the tree they use as their platform to jump and sat below it, wiping the sweats on her forehead. "I'd definitely do that again next year."

Sasuke sit beside her, panting a little better than Sakura. The look of calm and satisfaction masked his previously dull and sorrowful face.

"You remembered that this is Uchiha's tradition, right?" Sasuke reminds.

Sakura looks at him, "Yes," She sheepishly rub her cheek with her finger, "I'm sorry I enjoyed it a little too much."

When Sasuke didn't respond, Sakura tilted her head to the side, blinking her eyes, "What is it?"

Sasuke looks away, his usually pale face turns crimson red, "If other people beside Uchihas join the ceremony–" He paused, "It only means, they're marrying an Uchiha, and becoming one themselves."

Sakura blinks again, many many times in confusion before finally–finally–it clicked, and her face went bright red, "O-ohh."

Sasuke scoff–still blushing–and spoke, "Don't think too much into it. I'm the only Uchiha left, I can fix it to how I want it to be."

"W-Well." Sakura started, "I don't actually mind marrying Sasuke-kun." She mutters.

Sasuke let out a rough breath, frustrated with the raised in the heat on his face, "I told you don't think about it."

Sakura giggles, "Okay."

He tched, face reddened and turn away from her.

The next day, Naruto found his teammates, sleeping soundly against each other, leaning against the tree. Sakura has her head burried in Sasuke's neck, while Sasuke's face is nestled comfortably in her hair. Less assured, they were both pestered by Naruto all the way back to the village.

-

Sakura and his wedding was done in a rush, or so others thought.

It was however half true,

The marriage was actually quite plan. They were somewhere at North East having dinner when Sasuke asked, "Do you think you'll marry me?"

Sakura chocked on her meat hearing clearly what he had said, "W-Water." She demand, hands patting on the table, eyes brimming with tears as the meat, hard and a little sharp at its edges pained her.

Sasuke let out a frustrated sigh as he offer her his drink. He waited until she finished the plain water and calmed down, "Are you okay?"

Sakura shakes her head as she breaths, her cheeks tainted pink and then she burst out, "It's not something you should casually ask during dinner. I mean, it absolutely should be asked during a dinner. But not so abruptly, and while I was trying to swallow this rock hard meat."

"I apologise." The nerve this guy has.

Sakura huffs crossing her hands over her chest looking away from her lover, feigning a sulk, "You couldn't do it romantically, could you?"

"Sakura."

Sakura bite her lips as she returns her gaze over Sasuke, and let out her giggle at the warning tone Sasuke used as he said her name.

"Fine." She said, "I saw a courthouse while we went around this village earlier. We'll stop by tomorrow before we furthering our journey."

Sasuke looks at her, nodding and says his thanks by holding her hand up to his lips and kiss that skin of hers tenderly, lingering there for a few moments. He looks up then, seeing the tears in her eyes, the redness on her cheeks, "Thank you, Sakura."

The night after that, they stare at the signed scroll of their marriage. Their gaze linger a minute too long at the new name written in cursive writing,

Sakura Haruno-Uchiha

And that night, they jumped over the fire again, many many times to celebrate their new marital status, before they went tired and lay down on the grassy ground, star gazing up the sky.

There weren't any traditional clothes. Nothing his mother will fuss over if she's present during their marriage.

There weren't any grand extra-vagant ceremonial reception, that his mother would be stressing about but doing it rather fondly.

There weren't anyone else presence during their signing, which is fine for both of them.

Sasuke was born in an old clan, with many traditions and cultures and ceremony to follow. But all those died down, together with the other Uchihas leaving him to recreate them himself for the new generation.

The next time they found themselves jump over the fire was when Sarada was born. Karin is the witness this time as she watched the Uchiha family, cradling their precious child, and jump together over the fire for the best years ahead of Sarada Uchiha, cherishing hopefully the joyful life of hers.

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Three: Interview

By SisterSpooky1013 / Read Previous Chapters Here

Rated E / Tagging @today-in-fic

The Hoover building is deserted at 4am, which is exactly why she has to be there so early. She arrives at Skinner’s office with nothing but her car keys and the casual clothing on her back. Agent Wiley, a young woman in her twenties, greets Scully warmly. She’s tall and brunette with an hourglass figure, and Scully has the passing thought that she is exactly Mulder’s type. She wonders if they’ve ever met.

“I’ll drive you to your apartment in Philly where you’ll stay for the duration of the undercover assignment, Agent Scully,” Wiley says in an authoritative though very high pitched voice. “We’ll leave your car in the bureau garage for the duration, but you can give A.D. Skinner your keys for safekeeping.”

Scully hands Skinner her keys and he sets them on top of his desk, rubbing his hands over a weary and sleep-rumpled face.

“I’ll fill you in on the case details on the way. Let’s hit the road, we’ve got a two and a half hour drive ahead of us,” she finishes, slinging her purse over her shoulder and making for the door.

Scully follows her mutely. Just as she reaches the door herself, Skinner speaks.

“Agent Scully?” he asks in a hoarse voice. She turns to face him. “I…I…” He keeps restarting his sentence, but never gets further than that.

Scully finally interjects. “It’s okay, sir. I understand. We all have a job to do.”

He nods at her with a grateful expression, and she follows Agent Wiley out to the parking garage.

The sun is just beginning to brighten the inky sky as they drive out of D.C. Agent Wiley is chatty behind the wheel as Scully leafs through the case file; once they get to Philly, she won’t have the opportunity to see it again. The only trace of Dana Scully in her apartment will be a burner cell phone, which she is to keep off and hidden in an air duct in the wall. She will call Agent Wiley at least every other day, or as needed, to share any updates. She is to turn the phone on only when she’s sure no one else is in the apartment with her. She is expected to get as close as possible to the other dancers at the club, one of whom they believe to be Mila Chamberlain. In the file, there’s a photo of Mila, a young Asian woman with a short blonde pixie cut and penetrating dark brown eyes. There is also her parents’ account of her disappearance shortly after meeting Ricky at a party, and their fears that’s she’s a victim of sex trafficking.

“Your cover is Diane Sellers, recently divorced and needing work,” Agent Wiley explains. “To our understanding, they won’t ask you much about your history, but it’s still good to have a backstory ready. It can be helpful to use real details from your life in regards to things like siblings, parents, and past romantic partners, just because it’s easier to keep straight. We don’t recommend addiction being a part of your backstory, in case that affects Ricky’s willingness to trust you. You should immerse yourself as much as possible with the staff, including spending time with them outside work if you can. You can have them over to your apartment, which is why it’s important that there’s nothing there that isn’t part of Diane’s story. It’s fully furnished with everything from tampons to Rice a Roni, but we’ve also set up a bank account and a debit card in case you need to buy anything. Once you identify Mila, call me. You should try to get as close to her as possible, and ultimately the goal is to confirm that she’s being held against her will. Then we’ll raid the club and get you both out of there. What questions do you have?”

Scully stares out the window at the cars rushing by. The pink sunrise illuminating the clouds on the horizon makes the sky look pinstriped.

“Why weren’t you asked to go undercover, if this is your case? You’re young, you’re very pretty. So I guess my question is why not you?” She recognizes the irritation in her voice, but she can’t help herself.

Agent Wiley glances over at her and back to the road a few times. “I can understand why you’d ask that. And I also realize that I haven’t thanked you for taking this assignment. It was a hard one to staff.”

Scully scoffs and turns to face the other woman. “I wasn’t given a choice, Agent Wiley.”

“Right. Sorry. Um, the reason I couldn’t take this assignment is that I have an ostomy bag, as a result of a pretty severe case of Crohn’s. I doubt anyone wants to see a stripper with a bag of poop strapped to her belly dancing around on stage.”

Scully closes her eyes against the shame that wells in her gut. “I’m sorry, Agent Wiley. That was rude of me to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it, Agent Scully. Honestly, I’d take my ostomy bag over this assignment any day. I don’t envy you.”

Scully turns back to the window, spinning up the life story of Diane Sellers as they drive on through the early morning light and towards her uncertain future.

Agent Wiley drops her off around the corner from her apartment with nothing but a set of keys and verbal instructions for where she can locate the burner phone. Her interview is today at 2, and the address of the club and interview information are on a slip of paper on the kitchen counter. They bid one another an awkward goodbye, and Scully goes in search of her home for the next several weeks.

The apartment is small, a studio, and fully furnished. She can tell that Agent Wiley herself took care of decorating it; youthful touches like a sequined throw pillow and a magnet on the fridge with “Diane” printed on a tiny license plate give it a dorm-like feel. Many of the items appeared to have been thrifted, which will be important to keeping up her ruse of being a woman in a tight spot financially. She locates the air duct and the burner phone, turning it on to be sure it works before securing it back in its hiding place. She pokes around the various cabinets and cupboards to find all kinds of dried goods and snacks, and is surprised by the 6 pack of beer in the fridge and the bottle of vodka in the freezer. The closet is full of clothing in her size, some of it basic jeans and tees, some of it tube tops and daisy duke shorts that she would never wear. Well, Scully would never wear them, but she suspects Diane would. The slip of paper on the counter reads:

Damsels in Dominance

1634 W York St, Philly

Ricky Dean, 2pm

She makes a face at the name and her stomach turns at the thought that this might be some kind of S&M club. It's just after 9am, so she has quite a bit of time to kill before her interview. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to sleep, so instead she takes a thorough inventory of all the cabinets and closets to see if anything important is missing. In the bathroom, she opens the medicine cabinet to find a full Oil of Olay skin care line right next to a box of condoms. What the hell does Agent Wiley think she has planned for this assignment? Her confusion deepens when she pulls open the drawer of the bedside table and is greeted by a book light as well as a small bullet vibrator. Either Agent Wiley went to very great lengths to make sure this apartment would pass the sniff test for anyone who decided to snoop, or….she doesn’t even know what the other possibility is. Adding some paperback novels to her mental shopping list, she slams the drawer shut and flops down on the bed. Mulder is at work by now, and she wonders how long Skinner will be able to keep up the ruse. Knowing Mulder, not all that long.

Mulder arrives at work just past 8, noting that Scully’s car is parked in her typical spot in the garage; she must have needed to stop by before heading to Quantico. He’s a little bit disappointed that she’ll be away for the next few weeks; the basement office is exceedingly boring without her. At the same time, he’s grateful for a bit of space to think.

The tension between them had reached a tipping point but now sits suspended, teetering between coworkers and friends or whatever lay on the other side. He’s made some attempts at pushing things towards the “more than friends” end of the spectrum, but nothing seems to come of it. He kissed her, and while she kissed him back and seemed receptive to it, she hasn’t initiated anything further. The night they played baseball together was fun and flirtatious, but again nothing happened. He’s getting the sense that any move will need to be made by him. Maybe Scully just isn’t the forward type in these situations, or maybe she isn’t confident enough that he’ll reciprocate. This time that she’s working away from the office might be the perfect opportunity to take her out on a real date, knowing that if things get weird they won’t have to face each other in the morning.

Entering the office, he doesn’t find her there; they must have just missed each other. He logs into his email and opens a new message.

Hey G-woman,

What time can you get away for lunch today? I was thinking about checking out that new sushi place on 8th. Or we can meet halfway, whatever works.

Would you like to get dinner sometime this week? My treat. Let me know.

Mulder

He hits send, then digs in to some more case reports that he needs to complete. He has a vision of Scully returning to find them completely caught up on paperwork and how pleased she’d be with him, and decides then and there to make it a reality. While he’s not generally an approval-seeking kind of guy, the surprised smile on Scully’s face when he does something uncharacteristically responsible is one of his favorites. The number one spot will always, of course, be held by the smile she gives him when he says or does something that truly strikes her as funny. He finds it hard to keep from smiling just thinking about it.

Two hours later, there’s no response from Scully. That’s a little bit weird, but not exceedingly so; if she’s working on a particularly gnarly autopsy it can take quite a while. When he still hasn’t gotten a response by noon, he first checks his sent email to be sure it went out, then picks up his office phone.

“Autopsy bay, this is Richard.”

“Hey, Rich, this is Agent Mulder up at the Hoover Building.”

“Hi, Agent Mulder, how can I help you?”

“Is Agent Scully around? I was hoping to talk to her.”

“No, I haven’t seen her.”

“Not at all today?”

“No, I haven’t seen her in a few weeks, actually.”

A flush of worry spreads across his chest.

“Hey, Rich, are you guys pretty busy down there? I hear you have a big case you’re working on.”

“Busy? Uh, no, not really. Just business as usual.”

“Okay, thanks. If you see Agent Scully, will you ask her to call me?”

“Sure, will do, Agent Mulder.”

“I appreciate it, bye.”

He sets the phone down and sits back in his chair. Did Scully lie to him? And if so, why? Her car is here, so he knows she came in today. Picking up the phone again he tries her cell, which goes straight to voicemail. The darkest part of his brain worries that she came to the office but never made it to Quantico. He makes one final phone call.

“Skinner.”

“Hi, sir, this is Agent Mulder.”

“How can I help you, Agent Mulder?”

“Have you heard from Agent Scully today? I’m having a hard time getting in touch with her.”

“She’s assigned to work at Quantico for the next few weeks, Agent Mulder, she wasn’t expected to report to the Hoover Building today.”

“I know, sir, but her car was in the garage when I got here and I just called over to Quantico and they haven’t seen her today. I’m a little worried.”

He hears Skinner mutter what sounds like “Jesus H Christ” under his breath before he speaks again. “Agent Scully is fine, Agent Mulder. She’s on assignment. I encourage you to focus on your own assignment.”

Mulder hesitates. “Should I take that to mean that she’s NOT assigned to Quantico?”

Skinner sighs. “All you need to know is that she is fine, but unreachable. You worry about yourself and let me worry about Agent Scully, got it?”

“Um, okay. Thank you, sir.”

He hangs up the phone even more confused than before. Scully’s behavior yesterday after she returned from Skinner’s office makes a little more sense; she was uncomfortable about lying to him. When he leaves the office that night, her car is in the same spot it had been that morning. He doesn’t like this, but he knows Scully was in the same situation when he was on an undercover assignment and he should just trust her, and Skinner, and wait it out. That’s easier said than done, and he spends his entire evening imagining all the dangerous situations she might be immersed in. Drug cartels, amateur mafias, cults, hackers, the list goes on and on. He can only hope that she’s safe.

Damsels in Dominance is an unassuming building nestled between strip malls and fast food restaurants. The parking lot and entrance are at the back of the building, a fabric-draped chain link fence surrounding it for privacy. Scully pays the cab driver, though now that she realizes how close her apartment is to the place she’ll probably just walk back. After much deliberation, she wound up wearing jeans and a blue T shirt, guessing that it would be out of place to dress up for an interview at a strip club. She pulls the front door open and finds herself in a small foyer with a counter along one wall, a hulking man perched behind it on a stool. Even seated she can tell that he’s very tall, with a broad chest and square shoulders. His neck is nearly nonexistent, thick and disappearing into the rolls under his chin like a tree trunk. His head is shaved bald and his deeply tan skin shows evidence of long ago healed acne scars on his ruddy cheeks. A small gold name tag pinned to his T-shirt reads “Denny.”

“Hi, I’m Diane, I’m here for an interview with Ricky,” she says with a smile. She’s decided that Diane will be the kind of person with an easy smile. The kind of person who makes friends quickly. She channels her sister Melissa, who would talk to anyone and somehow have them sharing details of their childhood trauma within fifteen minutes. If she’s going to get these people talking, she needs to be more like Missy and less like herself.

Denny nods with a grunt and stands, proving himself to be at least six inches taller than Mulder; her head barely reaches his waist. He comes around the counter to push open a second door and holds it for her, motioning her to follow. They enter one end of a long hallway, a door directly in front of them labeled “Enter Here to be Dominated.” They walk down the hall, past some restrooms and several other unmarked doors, until they come to one that says “office.” Denny knocks and a small woman answers.

“Diane, 2 o’clock interview,” Denny says in a flat baritone, then turns and walks away.

[ochabestgirl]

I have so many good ideas and prompts for fanfiction, and I HAVE tried my had at writing, but it never turns out how I’m wanting it to. I would love for an experienced fanfic writer who loves kachako, to maybe feel inspired to write a specific prompt that has been in my head for years.

So the story starts out with an established Katsuki and Ochako relationship.

Ochako hasn’t been feeling her best, with fatigue and weakness, wt loss, easily getting winded which has been putting a dent in her hero training. Ochako has never wanted to be a burden on anyone, so she keeps how she’s been feeling to herself, brushing off any concerns from her friends and teachers, saying she’s just been overworking herself as an excuse.

Things then take a turn for the worst when she passes out after giving blood at the yearly blood drive that pops up at UA every November. Nobody really thinks anything of it, since it is a normal reaction to donating blood. She wakes up in recovery girls office 4 hours later with a passed out Katsuki in the chair next to her bed. He wakes up and is worried but she eases his worries and sends him back to his dorm room after recovery girl comes in to check up on her. Once their alone, she informs her that after running a few tests on some of the blood she had donated, they discovered that her labs showed an increased in the number of leukocytes which point to one think, leukemia.

Recovery girl wants her to run more tests and have a bone marrow biopsy to confirm and come up with a treatment plan but Ochako is in denial. She can’t possibly accept the fact that all her hard work the last two years at UA could all be for nothing, so she goes harder than ever and does her best to hide it from everyone, including Katsuki.

After getting pared up with Kirishema for a class hero project, Ochako starts having worse symptoms, like bleeding gums and nose bleeds. Recovery girl says that this is a sign of worsening leukemia so she gives her an ultimatum, she either go’s to get her biopsy done or she was going to tell Her teachers, HIPAA be damned.

Reluctantly she agrees, but on the days following, Kirishema notices that she’s been slacking and feels frustrated to be the only one doing the work. On the day of her biopsy, she dips out of training early. Kirishema, having had enough, confronts her saying it wasn’t fair to him if she wasn’t going to take their assignment seriously. Ochako ends up having a compleat meltdown saying, “ you wanna know what’s not fair, I have cancer!” Kirishema in shock tries to respond but she cuts him off “ I’m going to my first bone biopsy today, that’s why I had to leave early, I’m going through this alone, but I’m sorry if all of this is an inconvenience to you!” Tears rolling down her face she turns on her heals and walks away, leaving Kirishema standing there speechless.

After a few moment he takes off to recovery girl desperately looking for answers, now extremely worried about his friend. He grills her for answers. Recovery girl, not able to give him much information, tells him what she can. That Ochako isn’t wanting to tell anyone or be compliant, and where her biopsy is taking place.

Ochako is on the table and they are about to start but before they even take out the needle a nurse walks in and whispers something to the dr. He nods his head and the nurse leaves. She doesn’t thank anything about it, until the door opens and Kirishema walks in. She is confused. “I couldn’t let you go through this alone.” He says shrugging his shoulders with a wary look on his face and tears in his eyes.

He sits by her side holding her hand and brushing his fingers through her hair as she gasps and cries in pain. Tears both running down their faces.

* I don’t have much in between this part and the next. Mostly just Katsuki  worrying to death, seeing the bruising on Ochako body and the amount of weight she has lost, not to mention her lethargic behavior, and Kirishema wanting to tell him what’s been going on but not being able to because it wasn’t his place. Ochako swearing him to secrecy, wanting to be the one to tell him but not feeling ready, so she keep putting it off.*

Kirishema has enough when Ochako passes out during breakfast, right in the middle of eating. Katsuki beside himself with anxiety and worry, urging her to take it easy. Ochako looks at Kirishema, noticing the terrified look on his face and excuses herself to go to her dorm room, but not without giving her boyfriend a calming kiss saying she was going to take a nap. Katsuki watch’s her disappear through the elevator doors, with a hopeless look on his face. Kirishema has made up his mind and sneaks off after breakfast to confront Ochako.

They end up getting into an argument and Kirishema says that she has to the end of the week to tell Katsuki or he was going to and storms out of her room, leaving Ochako sitting on her bed staring off into space completely spent with the day already.

Katsuki comes up after cleaning up the dining area to find Ochako passed out rather uncomfortable looking on her bed. He adjusts her to where her head is on her pillow and draws the covers up over her shoulders. She is shivering so he looks for another blanket in her dresser drawers only to find a large plastic bag full of an assortment of colorful pills. (Ochako put them in a plastic bag so she could hide them better.)

Completely shook, thinking that Ochako has a drug problem, he takes the pills and leaves, and in typical Katsuki fashion with no warning or tact, confronts Ochako in the common room after dinner in front of all his classmates. Completely consumed with worry, frustration, anger, concern and sadness, he doesn’t even think that he probably shouldn’t have approached it the way he did, but he was too desperate to care.

He throws the bag of pills out on the coffee table in front of Ochako. “Care to explain why I found a bag of pills in your dresser?” He asks with so much tension he is shaking a little bit. “I should have noticed sooner, it makes so much since now.” He says to no one in particular.

“Katsuki it’s not what you think, let me explain, I….”

“Don’t even fucking lie Ochako, you’ve been lying to me for weeks, I’m sick of it damnit!” He is shaking uncontrollably now. “I’m telling Aizawa, and we’re getting you into the first rehabilitation facility we can find that has an opening!” He’s so unhinged that he doesn’t even notice the stunned looks of concern on his classmates faces.

“Ochako, is it true?” Mina asked with both hands cradled to her chest. “ If it is, we all love you and want to help you.”

At this point Ochako is slumped over with her face in her hands, trying to make herself as small as possible.

She had been sitting between Deku and Iida, who are now rubbing her back with worried looks on their faces. “Ochako we will get you help, everything will be okay.” Deku says with tears in his eyes and voice thick with emotion.

Ochako springs off the couch so fast it startles everyone. She’s pacing around the room, and the color looks to be drained out of her face. She’s breathing heavy with tears in her eyes, borderline panic attack mode. Katsuki’s face softens and he approaches her, arms lifting like he was going to try to calm her down.

Kirishema then decides to speak up “ Chako, I think now is the right time to tell him.”

Katsukis head snaps up and his eye meet the ones of his best friend. “What the hell are you talking about, you knew what was going on this whole fucking time, and kept it from me?!”

“It wasn’t my place to say anything bro.” Kirishema responded with regret.

Small explosions leave katsukis palms as he leaps over the couch grabbing onto Kirishema’s shirt getting a few punches in before Deku and Sero pull them apart. Katsukis is still thrashing trying to get out of Dekus grip.

“I have leukemia!” Ochako screams loud enough for everyone in the building to hear. She then falls to the ground curling into herself sobbing.

Everyone and everything just stops and everyone freezes, Kirishema is laying on the floor rubbing his face while katsukis just stands there, with a blank look on his face directed at Ochako.

“Leuko-what now??” Kaminari asks from his place beside Kirishema.

“But that’s” Deku starts “ That’s cancer right?”

A strangled gasp is heard from Tsyu, who is trying not to cry.

“How can this be? Your so young, you have your whole life ahead of you.” Iida says like he hasn’t processed the information yet.

This comment causes katsuki to spring to life, “ w-why the fuck are you still here then, we need to get you to a hospital! Som-someone go get recovery girl! Why are you all looking at me like I’m crazy! She needs to go to a fucking hospital!” He’s not pausing for breath and in a half second, he is crouching down next to Ochako, ready to pick her up and bolt to the closets hospital himself. “ W-whatever, I’m going to get Aizawa myself!”

“You can’t!” Ochako desperately clings to katsukis arm, both trying to ground herself and to stop him from leaving. “You cant tell anyone! N-none of you all can tell anyone.” She looks like a cornered animal.

Katsuki looks at her like she has grown a second head. “what the hell are you talking about?! Do you even get how serious this is?! You could fucking die Ochako!” He’s panicking now “ That is not a risk I am willing to take!”

Anger boiling up inside her she yanks her hands away and stands up, causing katsuki to fall over.

“This isn’t your decision ‘Bakugou!’” She seethes. “I have worked so hard and I have come so far! I can’t give all that up! I won’t!” She is standing so still, fist clenched and shaking slightly.

“Chako, you have to-“ Kirishema is silenced by Ochakos loud “No!”

“I don’t Have to do anything! This is my decision!” Ochako starts backing away, eyes darting around the room, obviously looking for an escape. “It’s my decision…” she whispers once more before she bolts to the door leading to the outside, having jumped over the couch in the process. By the time anyone had realized what had happened, she had already disappeared through the doors vanishing into the night.

The class explodes into a frenzy.

“What is going on down here.” Came the calm voice of their teacher from the elevator doors.

“Mr Aizawa…” Kirishema takes it upon himself to explain everything that had happened, all the while katsuki curls more and more into himself. He is still on the floor, head between his legs and hands in his hair.

Deku is close by, trying to talk to him but it is lost on def ears, he can barely make out the panic in his voice.

Trying to get control over his breathing he starts in though is nose and out through his mouth. He is filled with so many emotions he doesn’t know which one to focus on. Angry tears well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over.

He is aware of Kirishema’s face replacing Deku’s, and the ringing in his ears has stopped enough to hear him say that Aizawa, Mina, and , Tsyu have went after her.

He doesn’t remember when or how he winds up on the couch, and he doesn’t even care. He feels hands push him down so he is laying down with his feet propped up, and a cold washcloth is placed on his head.

By the time he starts to breath normally, he’s not sure how much time has passed. When he opens his eyes, he sees that some people were still lingering. Kirishema was sitting in a chair next to him with his head in his hands. Deku, Iida, and Todoroki were hovering by the door, looking for any sign of their return. Sero and kaminari sat on the love seat across from katsuki with sad, forlorn expressions on their faces.

When he slowly sits up, Kirishema lifts his head. Looking him dead in the eyes, katsuki asked, “Did all of that really happened? Is this really happening?” Katsuki hates how his voice cracks.

“ I’m afraid so.” Kirishema says gaze lowering to the floor. “ listen man, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It wasn’t my place.”

“ I understand why you didn’t. It’s okay.” Kirishema looked like he wanted to say something to that but suddenly the door opened.

Katsuki shoots up from his seat on the couch and faces the door.

Tucked underneath Mr. Aizawa’s arm was a rather small looking Ochako. Face puffy from crying, and bags under her eyes from exhaustion, she looked like the walking dead. Beside her with her arm locked with hers was Mina, face also a little read and puffy, Tysu bringing in the rear holding Ochakos shoes, despair written all over her face.

Ochako refused to look at anyone, even the remaining members of the so called “Deku squad.”

Katsuki makes a move to meet them at the door but one look from Mina makes him stop in his tracks. She shakes her head and mouths ‘not now,’ so not knowing what else to do he just stands there and dumbly watches them make their way to the elevator.

Katsuki tries to sleep that night, but can’t, his mind too full with visions of Ochako dying. Giving up he goes to his desk and opens up his laptop. He spends the next 3 hours researching leukemia, the survival rate, symptoms, causes, treatments, reactions to the medication, by the time the third hours came to a close it’s 2 am and katsuki has had enough. Without second guessing himself, he makes his way out the door, down the hall to Ochakos room and knocks.

It takes a few minutes before the door opens revealing a wide awake but an extremely exhausting looking girl he calls his girlfriend.

Her face contorts in pain and her eyes well up with tears when she sees him. “I’m so sorry katsuki” she sobs.

Without saying anything katsuki grabs her face with both of his hands and kisses her with the power of every emotion he had felt and is still feeling. Pushing her back into her room, he kicks the door shut. She’s on him in seconds, tears still leaking from her eyes as he kisses them away.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much cheeks.” It’s comes out as a choked whisper, like a plea for her to live. He’s got a lump in his throat but he pushes it down. She doesn’t need him breaking down too.

Ochako steps back for only a second to remove her shirt, then she leaps and wraps her legs around katsukis waist, opening up a whole other can of worms.

Not having any control at this point, he pushes her against the door, devouring her mouth like it was his only lifeline. “ I love you too! So much, I’m so sorry.” He silences her words with a Searing kiss. He moves them over to the bed and gently places her down. then settles himself on top of her. “Are you okay? I’m not hurting you am I?” He’s so afraid now.

“You could never hurt me.” She says with such certainty.

That night they gave themselves to each other in every way they could think of.

Him needing to feel her, to know that she was still alive and whole in his arms.

Her needing to feel alive and needing reassurance that she wasn’t alone in this, needing to feel close to the one she loves.

*So that is all I have so far. I do have some thoughts about her treatment and how katsuki struggles with watching her suffer. I would like the story to include weather or not Ochako makes it. But I’ll leave that up to whoever wants to take this story on. Also feel free to write smut if you want. I’m just not good at that, so I didn’t include it.

Please let me know what you all think and if you can make this fic come to life.

Disclaimer: Art is not mine! I got it off of google search. All credit goes to the artists.

[suttttton]

An Invitation

How do you get Jonathan Sims to go on a date with you? Easy. Step one: Trick him by giving him a fake statement filled with puzzles that lead him to the date location of your choice. Step two: Profit?

---

“Jon,” Sasha says, leaning against his desk.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up from his work.

“D’you want to get lunch with me today?” she asks. It’s just a casual question. They’ve gotten lunch together before, and she knows that Jon won’t interpret her question in a romantic way, but her stomach still thrums with nervousness. It’s… different, now that she’s decided to let herself have a crush on him. Now that she’s decided that, eventually, she’ll ask him on a real date.

He doesn’t even look at her, just shakes his head. “Can’t, I’m a bit swamped this week. I’ve got a lot of—things…” he trails off, drawn back into his work. The exciting world of follow-up research. She stands there for another minute, just watching him, knowing that he has forgotten her entirely. It’s one of those things that should be annoying, but is really just… deeply endearing. Ugh.

She’s going to ask him on that date soon.

***

When she asks Jon out, she tries to be obvious about it. Jon has a hard time reading social signals at the best of times, and she wants to make things easy for him. She’s not the most comfortable with grand gestures, but she’s got a bit theater kid in her yet, and she’s sure she can make it work.

She finds Jon in the break room, eating a bowl of microwavable soup and staring blankly at nothing. Very adorable. She knocks twice on the table, getting his attention, and he blinks once and smiles at her.

“Jon, there’s something I want to ask you,” she says. She can feel heat rising in her face. God, this is about to be embarrassing. She really, really hopes he doesn’t turn her down. (Why would he turn you down, James? You’re a catch.)

She gets on one knee, takes his hand. “Jonathan Sims,” she says dramatically. “Would you do me the honor of coming to dinner with me on Friday?”

He looks at her, and his eyebrows furrow. “Sorry Sasha,” he says, “but I can’t. I requested some books, and they’re supposed to arrive Friday. I was planning to get started on them Friday evening.”

She sighs. She’d take it as a graceful rejection, if she hadn’t seen Jon reject people before. He got nervous and stuttery and hyper-apologetic. He doesn’t look at all uncomfortable now, just confused as to why she’s on the floor.

He doesn’t know that she’s trying to ask him on a date.

Later, replaying the scene in her mind, she realizes what the problem was. They were at work. Even with her making it as dramatic as possible, the environment was too casual. She asked him to do platonic activities with her all the time while they were at work—why would he assume differently?

She needs to ask him when they aren’t at the Institute, somewhere where she can make a whole presentation of it. She’ll buy him flowers, sweep him off his feet.

Except.

He keeps turning down her offers to spend time together. When he isn’t busy with follow-up, he’s busy researching the Leitner books. It’s… stupidly endearing. And unhealthy. Jon doesn’t look unwell, really, but he does look… stressed, hunched over his desk all day. Jon needs a break from work, not just so she can ask him on a date, but also so he doesn’t drive himself into a nervous breakdown.

Sasha hatches a plan.

***

It doesn’t take long to put together. Just an evening, researching cryptic puzzles, scouting out locations that aren’t too far from the Institute, writing a nonsensical statement in the ‘I saw a ghost in a graveyard and it was spooky’ vein.

The only problem is how to get the fake statement into Jon’s caseload without him noticing. She can’t just drop it on his desk, not with him there all day long. She could get Lydia involved, but she isn’t sure the Head of Research would approve of her plan, and even if she did, Lydia is a bad liar. Jon would know something was up.

In the end, Jon solves the problem for her. He leans back in his chair, hisses over to her, “Sasha! Swap with me?”

“Spiders?” she asks, and he winces, nods. She holds out her hand, and flicks through the offending file. It has all the hallmarks of a false statement, but—

“I felt thousands of legs swarming over me, filling up my mouth, my nose—”

She snaps the folder shut, wrinkling her nose. “No problem,” she says. She hands Jon the fake statement. “You can take this one, I haven’t gotten started on it yet.”

“Thanks,” he says, smiling. Her stomach flips, and she watches for a few moments longer as he gets to work.

***

It would be suspicious for her to be staring at Jon the entire time he’s working on the statement, so instead she just glances over every once in a while, making sure he doesn’t immediately drop the statement in the ‘discredited’ pile.

He doesn’t. Instead, his frown deepens as he’s drawn in, trying to figure out the puzzle she’s left for him. The statement is clearly fake, but a few of the words are—wrong. Nonsensical. Gibberish.

She sees Jon go over and over the text, marking every strange word. Then he picks up his phone, dials the number listed on the statement. It’s a disconnected number, and Jon’s frown deepens.

He thinks for a few seconds, tapping his fingers on his desk. Then he pulls out a notepad, begins writing on it, consulting the statement to transcribe the strange words exactly.

At that point, Sasha knows she has him. Jon loves puzzles, and now that he knows there’s a puzzle to solve in the statement, he’s not going to stop until he figures it out.

It’s a simple Caesar cipher, with the phone number as its key. It yields the message:

Here are the coordinates:

CH.HCGDHCGFYERE, -HB.KGICCECIF0WI

In order to crack the coordinates, Jon simply has to replace each letter with its numerical position in the alphabet. Jon is smart, he’ll figure it out. The coordinates belong to a cryptid-themed restaurant in America called the Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grille.

Once, the Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grill website landing page contained several blurry photos of “Moth Man,” along with a somehow even blurrier photo of a restaurant menu. Now, it’s a nightmarish jumble of the strangest stock photos Sasha could find, along with a single hyperlink that just says, “Click me!”

(Sasha included this step because she finds it deeply entertaining to watch Jon click on the shadiest links possible. It’s revenge for all the viruses she’s had to clean off his computer.)

The link leads to a much more tasteful webpage. It’s has a single picture of a rose on it, and below that it just says, “An Invitation”. Then it gives the address of a very cute little cafe just a short walk from the Institute. Beneath that, “Tonight. 7:00pm.”

It takes about an hour for Jon to figure out the Caesar cipher, and after that he works through the puzzle quickly. It’s a delight, watching his face when he sees “Moth Man Urban Legends Bar and Grille,” and even better when he sees the monstrosity she’s made of their website.

He clicks the link without even a second of hesitation, which almost makes Sasha laugh out loud. And then he’s just staring at the invitation. He opens a new tab, opens Google Maps, puts in the address. She sees the back-in-forth in his head—‘Tonight’ has probably long since passed, and he isn’t likely to find anything if he shows up at the cafe at 7:00pm tonight.

But Jon is stubborn, and if he doesn’t go ‘Tonight,’ it’ll eat at him. She’s trapped him. He’ll show up. She’s certain of it.

***

She debates for a long time if she should wear a dress, or a button-up shirt and tie. She decides on the tie. It has ferns on it, and she needs the calming vibes.

It’s starting to sink in, what she’s done.

Why didn’t she just say, “Jon, I am asking you on a date”? That would have been so much easier! Christ, she’s tricked her crush into going on a date with her. What kind of creep does that?

She’s terrified Jon will be angry with her. Or worse, hurt. This whole thing is technically a prank. What if Jon thinks she’s just… making fun of him?

She stops by a flower shop on her way there, and the shop assistant asks what she needs, and she’s so nervous by then that she actually says, “I tricked my friend into going on a date with me, and I need flowers that will prevent him from hating me forever.”

“Right,” the man says, uncertainly. “Well—” And then he makes Sasha a very, very nice arrangement because, unlike Sasha, he isn’t a complete mess.

Sasha arrives at the cafe thirty minutes early, because she knows Jon. She knows he’ll want to stake out the place ahead of time. She knows she has to arrive ridiculously early to beat him there.

But apparently, she’s underestimated him because he’s already there.

He’s seated at a table in the corner, where he can see the entire dining room. He’s still wearing his clothes from work, and there’s a pastry in front of him.

He’s watching the door, of course he is, so he sees her come in.

“Sasha!” he calls, waving wildly at her. It makes something pang in her chest, that Jon’s instinct upon seeing her in a public place is to excitedly greet her. She certainly isn’t that kind of person.

She smiles, walks over to him. Her fingers are curled tightly around the flowers, crinkling the paper just slightly.

“Do you have a date tonight?” he asks, looking her over, his eyes still flicking back and forth between her and the door.

“I hope so,” she says.

He frowns. “Are they late? Or—”

She hands him the flowers. “These are for you.”

He looks at them, bewildered, then back at Sasha. “What—”

“The invitation was from me,” Sasha says, sitting down across from him. “I faked the statement, and I made the puzzles.”

He stares at her for moment, then at the flowers, then back at her. She waits for him to yell at her, or run off, or—she doesn’t know.

Then he starts laughing. It’s—wonderful, when he laughs. He always tries to hide his face, and this time he decides to use the flowers for that purpose, stifling his giggles against the petals. “Sasha, I—I thought it was going to be the, the Mob, or something.”

Sasha can’t help but start laughing too. “You thought the Mob sent secret messages to each other using a Caesar cipher?”

“I don’t know!” Jon says. “This is—” He lets out a long breath. “Well, I did enjoy the—game, I suppose.”

They look at each other for a long moment.

“Wait,” Jon says. “So I’m your date?”

“If you want to be,” Sasha says.

Jon smiles. “I—” He laughs again. “Yes. Of course I do.”

[lizzielikeborden]

Just A Stranger

Request: general #17 for diego?

Character: Diego Hargreeves

Prompts: General- #17 “Are you jealous?”

To be completely fair he was unaware of the situation ahead of time. Your whereabouts were completely unknown, if you were dead in a ditch you were gone before he woke up so what you were wearing was also mystery, and unlike usual you did not leave him a little list of things you were going to do. Usually this would be “- work, - grocery store - pharmacy - picking up dinner”. Not such a minor detail as “I’ll be home about 30 minutes later than usual”. Little ref whistles and red flags popped through his head the moment he lifted the note to flip it over to see if maybe you had written more. But, there was nothing, it was completely blank. Diego stared at the note, and kept reading it over trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. After doing so he jumped up from where he sat, hitting his knee against the table due to not pulling the chair back enough to get out of the seat properly. 

My god where did I hang the clock. He thought to himself as he ran around much too anxious to find anything, including something you made him put up that he dropped on himself multiple times. Once he had finally made a full circle, seeing that the clock was directly above the front door. 

Okay wait. She gets off work at 3:30 PM and it’s 4:30PM. He counted on his fingers a little and refocused multiple times just to make sure his math was correct. The second the realized that he was right he dead sprinted out the door. 

She has to be in some sort of trouble. His heart raced faster than he ever thought it could. Once he got in the car he did not even think to put on a seatbelt or even completely shut the door. Lead foot Diego took off down the street, went 80mph in a school zone, and almost hit multiple people. In his mind you were already dead, stuck in the trunk of car, getting tortured, or getting harassed. About five minutes into driving he realized he had no idea where you even were. He knew not work, because you did not like to stay after due to horror stories Diego had told you about things that have happened in seemingly empty parking lots. So, he checked the grocery store parking lot and did not see your car. He went past the pharmacy because no cars were anywhere to be found in that tiny little lot. As he went past, he saw what looked to be your car at a nearby gas station. 

Mother fucking christ this light could not be any longer. Diego smacked the top of the steering wall with both hands as hard as he could. The light seemed to be red for ages. It was so long that he could tell you were not in your car, nor at the pump next to the gas tank. The light turned green and luckily he was in the front or a fun game of bumper cars and trade insurances would have happened. His tires squealed as he made an incredibly sharp turn into the parking lot.

That’s her car. Where the hell is she? He read your license plate and looked around the pump, you were no where to be seen. Diego parked his car and grabbed knives from the middle consul. He hid them from direct public view and stepped inside. Detective police officer vigilante Diego was on the loose now. He was looking everyone up and down. A few shady characters were present, but none were walking toward your car or a car big enough or in good enough shape to have a human hidden inside. 

Diego walked up the counter and stood for a moment, gathered his words to make sure he wouldn’t stutter, and then spoke “Hey man, you seen a (description of you) looking woman inside?”

“Yeah, she came in to pay for gas and then this other dude came in. He was having issues with is gas so she went out to go help him.” The man behind the counter pointed at the gas tank next to yours where the car once was. “She left with him.”

Diego’s blood boiled, not just out of anger, but with hints of anxiety. Why the hell would she get in a car with a strange man? They must know each other. No wonder I got such a short note. He stormed out the gas station and slammed the door. The bell that hung over top hit the glass and broke a small section. She’ll come back for her car. And I will be here when she does. He sat parked and tapped his foot and left hand vigorously. 

15 minutes later

Diego’s anger was no where near settled. In fact the longer time went on the angrier he was becoming. His mind was running in circles around the same terrible thoughts. The cashier did not give a description of the vehicle but the moment the little blue sports car pulled in Diego’s instincts picked up. His suspicions were confirmed when you stepped out of the car and waved at the man who did not step out. 

Oh fuck no. Diego got out of his car and stepped directly in front of the little sports car. It tried to maneuver around him but he had other plans, taking out a knife he ran and rolled across the ground. The blade cut straight through the tire like butter. The car spun and came to a halt.

“Diego?!” You ran over to the man now on his feet, you put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped a bit. Harshly he turned toward you. 

“Y/N, what a pleasant surprise! I would never expect to see you here at the most shady ass gas station in a car with another man after leaving a vague mother fucking note.” 

Your eyes came out of your head, you did not expect this, or any of that day to happen. No words were forming as a very very angry Diego stood in front of you. So, you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, 

“Are you jealous?” You could see in Diego’s eyes that out of every single sentence, phrase, or word you could’ve said those were the wrong ones.

“Jealous? Should I be?” He took a step back instead of anger he seemed more upset. 

“No of course not. He’s a total stranger.” Diego’s mouth hung open, his eyes popped out of his skull, eyebrows furrowed. and his head was tilted. 

“YOU GOT INTO A VEHICLE WITH A COMPLETE STRANGER? AND THEN LEFT WITH THE STRANGER?” He yelled in frustrating and swung his arms around. 

“Excuse me bu-” The so called stranger you were with stepped out of his car but did not get a full sentence out before being shut down by Diego,

“You have two choices, fuck off, or more than just that tire will be slashed.” Diego did not even have to turn around to intimidate him before he ran back to his car and called someone to come get him. “Now back to you. What in the hell were you thinking?” His tone did not change but his demeanor did, he was much quieter and a bit calmer. 

“Well. I have been running late all day. I actually did not have a plan, so I assumed 30 minutes late was already how far behind I was. I just assumed my day would be about 30 minutes behind. Once I got about here I realized how low my gas was so I decided to get some, and that guy was having horrible trouble. So I stayed and helped him pump his gas but it wouldn’t work, I offered to help him again and we went to the gas station up the street.” You explained.

“You cannot be helping grown adult men or getting in cars with them. Hell any strangers for that matter. I know you think you are oh so capable but in real situations people tend to become a whole lot less capable.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, still keeping some distance between the two of you. You couldn’t really argue with him. You had never been in any situation like that so you couldn’t prove him wrong. Statistically he was correct. You gently pulled for him to come closer. He did so. 

“Thank you for being protective and cautious. You just care, more than normal, but you care. I shouldn’t have done that. But Mr. Vigilante you should not have slashed that poor mans tire.”

“You need to be happy I didn’t slash his thro-.”

“No no, we do not need to work you back up.” You put a hand on his cheek and made him look at you, you shook your head at him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He smiled and leaned down, he matched your action and placed a hand across your cheek and kissed you softly. 

You gave it a moment and pulled back, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You took your keys from you pocket and started to walk back to your car.

“I will be following closely behind you the entire way home. Do not test me.” Diego commented as he wandered back to his car.

You smiled and took off faster than him down the street. You were gonna be the death of him... 

[hateswifi]

No More Second Chances: Chapter One

So I accidently delete this earlier and had a mini stress attack. So here it is back again. I hope you enjoy.

Master: Master List

No More Second Chances: Master List

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

Marinette loved her family, but they didn’t believe her. They thought she was everything that her classmates said she was. One day she came home to Alya and Lila talking to her parents, Lila was crying. 

“I can’t believe you, I can’t believe myself! How could I raise someone who can be so heartless,” Sabine said, rubbing the tears from her eyes.

“Mama I didn’t do it!” Marinette defended.

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother, go to your room. I- We can’t even look at you,” Tom said, pointing at the door leading to the kitchen and upstairs.

“Let me explain though!”

“No, now go,” Sabine said, letting herself be enveloped in her husband’s supportive hug.

“I-” Marinette tries.

“Go! Now!” Tom says, rubbing Sabine’s shoulder. Marinette plopped down on her bed in tears, she’s so happy that Hawkmoth had been defeated or she wouldn’t be able to fight off the akuma. She was now the guardian and was solely in charge of the miraculous. Adrien, her best friend, and partner had been taken into the care of his aunt after Gabriel was revealed as Hawkmoth, leaving Marinette alone to suffer with the class. With no one to stand with her, the class became unbearable.

“Marinette, we are going to sign you up for the exchange program,” Sabine said sternly.

“Why can’t you understand that I didn’t do it? If you don’t believe me, fine, I’ll leave. There’s nothing here for me. My parents don't care and believe me. My classmates wish I was dead, most of them telling me to kill myself, which I have thought about but you wouldn’t that because you gave me so much freedom that it was borderline neglect. But ya know what? it’s fine, might as well lose my home along with the people I used to care about, Tikki let’s go pack!” Marinette screamed, Tikki flying over to comfort the girl.

“It’s ok Mari, I’ll still be with you,” Tikki said, nuzzling her head.

“Marinette, what is that?” Tom asks.

“You mean who! This is Tikki, the only person that cares about me,” Marinette says.

“I’m her kwami, I give her the power to be Ladybug,” Tikki explains.

“I guess if you can’t trust your daughter then you can’t trust Ladybug, the hero of Paris,” Marinette said, pulling her suitcase out of the closet. “When do I leave?” She asks through gritted teeth.

“Well, we started planning this a while ago so Monday,” Sabine cries. “But honey you don’t have to go! Stay here!”

“What were you going to wait till Sunday to tell me? That’s great. Well, I guess I don’t want to be a bother anymore, so you can leave,” Marinette said, grabbing clothes from her draw.

“I’m sorry Honey, please forgive me. You don’t have to leave I trust you,” Sabine pleads.

“Nope, if you can’t trust me, how can you trust Ladybug,” Marinette asks, toiletries from her bathroom. “You don’t care about me, that's all I need to leave. I’ll be back when I graduate to get the rest of my stuff. Then you’ll never see me again, just as you wanted.”

“No, sweetie you can stay with us we love you, we want you around,” Tom said. 

“Night, I’m going out, not like you would care or notice,” Marinette said. “Tikki, Spots on.” She said, transforming. “Shut off the light as you leave.”

“Marinette we need to talk about this!” Sabine said, trying to follow her up to the balcony.

“Bye, Sabine, Tom,” Ladybug said, jumping off the balcony. She sat on a roof and cried. She pulled out her phone and tried to compose herself. “A- Adr- Adrien, can I come to visit you tomorrow, well stay at your place till Sunday night?” Ladybug sniffles.

“What happened, Buginette?”

“Sabine and Tom are sending me away because Lila’s lies got to them, I revealed myself as Ladybug to them during my emotional spiel and they want me to stay because of it, but I can’t stay knowing that they don’t trust me, without the knowledge of me being Ladybug,” Ladybug explained, full-on tears rolling down her face.

“Ok that’s a lot, I’ll ask my aunt, I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes, though,” Adrien said. “Breathe with me ok” After she’s calm, she hangs up and grabs her stuff. She leaves her par-- Sabine and Tom a note.

‘Sabine, Tom,

I’m leaving but I’ll be home Sunday night. I will not speak to you, I just need you there so I can leave. Then you’ll see me once after I graduate to get the rest of my stuff. If you seek me out, I will not speak to you then. You’ve destroyed any chance you had at being in my life. For now, this is farewell. My decision won’t change.

- Marinette Jiayang Fu’

As Marinette got off the train, Sabine and Tom read her letter. They cried, not only had they driven their only daughter out of their home, they drove Ladybug out of Paris. She was so detached from them, because of them, she changed her last name. They mourned over their daughter and their mistakes.

“Adrien! I haven’t seen you in forever!” Marinette runs up and hugs him. He decided to meet her at the train station with Gorilla, Adrien convinced his aunt to keep Gorilla as his driver. He was happy to have a familiar face in London. 

“How are you doing?”

“I feel free? I guess being away from Paris is like a weight being lifted off of me,” Marinette sighed as she put her duffel in the trunk.

“Finally what took you so long?” a grumpy voice said as she opened the door.

“Sorry Marinette, I forgot to mention, we have to drop Felix off for a meeting before we head back home, ok?” Adrien said, closing the door.

“Of course. How have you been Felix? I haven’t seen you since you came to visit Adrien,” Marinette smiled.

“Fine,” he responds, before opening a manilla envelope. 

“Are you taking over your father’s business?” Marinette asks.

“Why does it matter?”

“Well if you are and it makes you happy, I’m happy for you,” Marinette smiled.

“What?” Felix asks looking up from his folder.

“I’m happy for you?” Marinette says, confused.

“Marinette, Felix may be a bit confused because you guys didn’t end on the best note,” Adrien explained.

“That’s all in the past,” Marinette said.

“Oh… um, thank you,” Felix says, looking back down at the papers.

“Don’t mention it,” Marinette said, looking out the window. Gorilla growls, prompting Felix to get out of the car. After Felix enters the building, Gorilla drives off back to the house.

“Aunt, I don’t know if you met my friend Marinette, but she’s here and she’s very nice,” Adrien greets, opening the door.

“Sorry Madame, I just couldn’t stay with my parents, but I’ll be gone Sunday afternoon. My parents are sending me to the states,” Marinette explained.

“I’ll show you to our guest room, Honey,” Amelie said, walking up the stairs. “Brunch will be soon.”

“Ok Ma’am,” Marinette said, opening the door.

“Nope, no ma’am, call me aunt. Adrien talks so much about you,” She smiles. “Get settled in and join us downstairs.”

“Ok, Aunt I’ll see you soon then,” Marinette giggles, closing the door before plopping down on the bed with a sigh she states. “This has been such a long day.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” Tikki laughs.

“I know but I’ve been up all night,” Marinette complained, flipping to lay face down on the bed.

“I bet they’ll have coffee downstairs,” Tikki said, that was all Marinette needed to be motivated to go downstairs. After a lovely brunch, which included coffee, Adrien and Marinette decided to go to the tourist sights. Later, Adrien would post selfies among other pictures of them together. When she went to bed that night, she passed out.

Marinette woke up early the next morning, being a baker’s daughter and all. The only person awake was Felix, who was sipping tea and looking over his tablet. “Good morning Felix,” Marinette said, brewing a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, how long are you staying for?” He responded, looking up from his tablet.

“I’m going to leave after dinner, I’m catching a train back to Paris, because apparently, I have an early flight,” Marinette sighs.

“Very well,” Felix said, standing. He walks over to the sink and places his teacup in it. “Well, if I don't see you before you leave, have a lovely flight.”

“Thank you, Felix,” Marinette says as he leaves the room. Sunday flew by fast and soon Marinette and Adrien stood back on the train station platform. They hug good-bye with promises to talk soon. As she sat down on the near-empty train she sighed thinking of the journey ahead. When she got close to her house, she transformed into Ladybug and climbed in through the balcony hatch. She showered and went to bed.

When she woke up the next morning, she was met with the smiling faces of Tom and Sabine. She got up, brushed them, grabbed her suitcase, and headed downstairs.

“Please Marinette, reconsider, we’ll stand with you,” Sabine pleads.

She shakes her head and exits, she sits in the car and Sabine and Tom reluctantly get in. “I’m sorry that it came to this,” Tom said, starting the car, his eyes were red and puffy. On the way to the airport, they tried to convince her to stay, even when she was waiting to board her plane, they were still there pleading with her to forgive them. As her flight was called, they didn't hold back their tears.

“May we please have one more hug before we don’t see you again?” they plead, grabbing her hand. Now, Marinette may not be happy, she may be downright pissed at them, but she was not cold. 

She nodded her head and they enveloped her in a big wet, tear-filled hug. She broke away, leaving them together to board the plane. She never looked back.

She realized as she sat down as she was looking through her carry on for her sketchbook, they had left something in there for her. It was information about her host family, an apology letter she couldn’t be bothered to read. She now knew who she was supposed to be looking for when she landed. She spent the rest of the trip sketching in her sketchbook, watching Friends, and sleeping. 

When the plane landed, she got off the plane and got her luggage. She entered the main area of the airport, where three people with a sign stood. She smiled and walked towards the group. “Hello, are you Marinette?”

-------------------------- I hope you enjoyed, ask me if you want to be on the tag list.

[iron--spider]

my favorite superhero

Tony sits there, cuffed to a chair in whatever the hell facility this is, and he stews. He doesn’t enjoy being kidnapped—his ego always takes a hard hit when he allows it to happen, and now that the end of the world has come and gone, he figured this kind of shit would fall off.

 But he stews, particularly angry, because this one is personal.

 Justin Hammer paces back and forth in front of him. He’s a little weightier than he was when Tony last saw him, sporting a patchy, uneven beard and what looks like a borrowed suit. Still an asshole.

 “Haven’t I been through enough?” Tony asks, twisting his hands in the cuffs behind his back. The iron arm is just not strong enough to break whatever the hell these are made of, and he’s angry because Justin thought ahead. When does Hammer think ahead, ever? 

 “Honestly,” Tony continues. “I’ve got kids now, you’ve gotta stop stalking me. I lost my arm saving the fucking world—apparently whatever the hell repercussions of all that got you out of prison, surely through no lawful avenues, so you’re welcome, by the way.”

 “Thank you very much, Mr. Stark,” Hammer says, pointing over at him. 

 “No, you know what, you’re not welcome. I take it back.”

 “You can’t take it back, you said it,” Hammer says, crossing his arms over his chest and holding his head high.

Tony sighs and looks away. There’s what looks like a kind of forcefield around where he’s sitting, and he sighs even harder. The room isn’t too large, with a vaulted ceiling, and Hammer’s situated himself on the platform in front of what looks like a couple empty offices. He prances back and forth above the few stairs that lead down to where Tony is, so he can stay above him.

 “You know, I’m really proud of this,” Hammer says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “This whole thing, right? So I snag you, and then we set off that bomb threat over in Midtown, so all your other super buddies fly over there and just think you’re slacking on the job when you don’t show up. Because you’re still handling the lower level shit like that, I know what you’re doing. I even think that Strange guy is over there, so they’re all there and they’re probably all judging you for not helping.”

 “Cute,” Tony says, bitter.

 “And this place is state of the fucking art, Anthony, like this could be the Queen’s bunker, and I’ve got all the buddies that left the Raft with me protecting the perimeter—chiseled, rugged guys just—ready to beat the shit out of everybody—”

 “Nice, the guys that left the Raft with you, like you’re on vacation—”

 “AND we’ve got you in vibranium handcuffs, you’re welcome, your pal in Wakanda’s gonna be real pissed when he realizes how far into the villain layer his shit has gotten—”

 Tony looks at him, brows furrowed. “Villain layer? Layer—layer of villains? Is that what you were trying to say? And you’re including yourself there? Or like, lair of villains, like their lair where they keep their stuff—but that doesn’t really work—”

 “No, just, shut up,” Hammer says. “Forget it. But that—yeah, vibranium handcuffs, so you’re not getting out any time soon even with your shiny new arm. And that forcefield is brand new Hammer tech, even if your buddies did fly over here once they’re done with their nice little distraction, they’re not smart enough to take down the encryptions, not even Banner, I checked into his degrees and what he studied and covered all my bases.”

 Tony’s bitterness is mutating into something else, something more bitter and why the shit can’t this asshole leave him alone? 

 “Congratulations,” he says. “Today marks the first day in history that you weren’t a complete dumbass.”

 “Thank you, thank you very much,” Hammer says, bending over in a deep bow, hands whipping with a flourish. “I thought about every variable, every avenue, now we just need Miss Pepper Wifey to answer my calls and—”

 Tony experiences a flash of anger at that, and then a high pitched tone starts going off in his ears, and now he feels like a dumbass. 

 Peter. Was with Pepper. 

 Peter.

 Like a shining light in the darkness and someone Hammer has clearly not paid attention to despite all his fucking planning, because he would have mentioned it amongst all the other bragging. Spider-Man isn’t an official Avenger yet to the world, just among the group. And Peter would never think Tony is slacking. Because Peter just doesn’t think that way. 

 Tony’s heart warms, because even though there’s no indication, he knows Peter is coming to get him.

 “You know what?” Tony asks, looking up at Hammer again and interrupting whatever dumb shit he was saying. “I was wrong. You’re still a dumbass.”

 Hammer stares at him. “What? No I’m not. Why? But I’m not.”

 “You are,” Tony says, glancing away. “I’m not telling you why.”

 “Oh Jesus, Tony, c’mon,” Hammer says, waltzing down the couple of stairs from the platform he was standing on, like the supreme idiot he is. “You’re such a—”

 He stops, abruptly, and pulls out a small tablet from his pocket. His eyes narrow.

 Here we go. Let’s go Spider-Man. 

 It’s faster than Tony could have imagined, and he looks on eagerly. “Oh, what’s that? What’s going on? A little hiccup, maybe?”

 “Gotta be some kind of bullshit,” Hammer says. “Super friends are all at the coordinates I set them up at, my guys checked, my guys—oh my God, Raul.”

 “Oh my God, is Raul okay?” Tony asks, flexing his fingers a bit behind his back. “Where’s Raul, is Raul here? Is something wrong—is Raul sick?”

 Hammer glances up at him but he’s shaking more now, and his pacing gets more panicky and stilted. He holds the tablet with one hand and taps on some kind of ear com with the other, and Tony shifts back in his chair a bit, relaxing. 

 “Jason, Jason, can you hear me? Are you there? Buddy, the whole reason I gave you this earpiece is so you can report when I need you to report—”

 He gasps, dramatically, and looks up at Tony.

 “Not good?” Tony asks, raising his eyebrows. “Not good news? Did they go on dinner break early? So hard to find good help these days.”

 “Do you know somebody else?” Hammer asks. “I thought the Avengers were very exclusive, I thought you didn’t chat with all the other ragtag Times Square assholes.”

 Tony leans forward and stares at him just as all these red, fiery lights start going off on the ceiling, and Hammer looks up and around, dropping the tablet and letting it shatter. Tony catches a glimpse of it now that he can see the screen, and he watches as guard after guard goes from green to red.

 He looks back up at Hammer and grins, full of pride. “You don’t know shit about me if you don’t know who my favorite superhero is.”

 And with that, the door behind Hammer opens and the lights snap out, only leaving the soft purple glow of the force field around Tony amongst inky darkness. His heart leaps when he hears a gun go off, three times with angry ricochet, and then he hears Hammer shrieking like a little girl, followed by the unmistakable sound of Peter’s webs and a body falling to the floor.

 Tony sits there in darkness and silence for a long moment.

 “Uh, Spidey?” Tony asks, blinking in the purple glow. “Where are you, bud? You okay?”

 The lights click back on and he sees Peter kneeling on the ground, checking Hammer’s pulse. 

 “Oh thank God. You okay?” Tony asks again. “He didn’t shoot you, right? The asshole.”

 “No, he didn’t shoot me,” Peter says. He pulls off his mask and stuffs it in his belt, looking up at Tony with a grimace. “He just, like. Passed out. I didn’t even punch him. I was gonna hit him, like, to knock him out, but he was already passed out and I didn’t even use impact webs, Tony.”

 Tony snorts. “It’s fine, that’s just how he is.” He grins at Peter. “Thanks for coming, kid.”

 “Duh,” Peter says, approaching him.

 “I’m sure he’s got a computer around here or something, so you can disable the forcefield—”

 “Yeah, I already did that,” Peter says, walking right through it, and Tony watches, mouth agape. “For some reason he had a stealth mode, and I was able to mirror that and it put it on standby for twenty minutes.”

 Tony nods. “Alright, shit, that’s great, okay, plenty of time to figure out the handcuffs, find a key or something—”

 Peter walks around behind him and kneels down. “He was stupid enough to alter them and add a code and a second latch.” 

 Tony feels him do something, and then the handcuffs drop off, like nothing. He laughs, feeling a little lightheaded, and he gets up, turning around to face the kid.

 He feels completely and utterly in awe of him. He always knew Peter would surpass him, but he has with such grace and candor and it’s—amazing.

 Peter puffs out his chest and points down. “One day, I’m gonna be able to break vibranium with my own strength, and then I’ll tell King T’Challa—”

 Tony nearly launches himself at him, wrapping him up in a hug. He ruffles Peter’s hair and pats him on the back, sighing and holding him close. “I’m very proud of you. Very very. Really very.”

 “Oh,” Peter says, holding onto him. “Really?”

 “Shit, of course,” Tony laughs, wondering if he doesn’t say it enough or if that’s just Peter, always doubting himself. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.”

 “No, I’m—I was done. I’m just—I’m just gonna tell him.”

 Tony hugs him for a couple more long moments before letting go, pulling back and gripping his shoulders in continued appreciation of what he’s done here. “You’re the best, you know that? Better than Cap or Bruce. Better than all of them. Number one.”

 “Nah,” Peter says, but he’s grinning. 

 “That idiot,” Tony says, pointing over at Hammer, encased in webbing, “is one of my worst enemies.”

 Peter narrows his eyes. “Really?”

 Tony lets his arms drop. “Well. Definitely the most irritating.”

 Peter laughs. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. Don’t get mad, but I took one of the quinjets to come get you. But Friday flew the whole way so it’s technically like, not that bad.”

 Tony scoffs as they head for the way Peter came in, the red lights still flashing and indicating the absolute fucking wreck Spider-Man left Hammer’s facility in. “Kid, that quinjet? It’s yours now, I’m gifting it to you.”

 “Don’t say things you’ll take back later,” Peter says, leading him through the corridor, where a bunch of guys are webbed to the walls—some squirming, some still.

 “Nope,” Tony says, patting him on the back again. “I will not be taking that back.”

 “Okay,” Peter says, eyes wide with excitement as he grabs for his mask. “Then I would also like an Iron Man suit.”

 Tony scoffs and turns right when Peter does. “Okay, that—that we can negotiate.”

[duhragonball]

Battle Tendency Liveblog JJBA Ch.48-52

This is the “Joseph vs. Straizo” arc, so I’ll just lead off with one of my favorite moments from the entire JoJo franchise, when Joseph furiously declares war on Straizo with tears in his eyes.   In the anime, voice actor Tomokazu Sugita delivered this with such intensity that it actually overshadowed the machine gun.

None of the dubs or translations can do it justice, including this panel from the JoJo’s Colored Adventure scanlation project.   This is a faithful translation of Joseph’s line, as far as I can tell, except they always leave off the last part: “宣戦布告だぜ!!”  In romanji, that’s: “Sensen fukokuda ze!!”    And it means  “This is war!!”  

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Last time, we saw the Joestars treating their new friend Smokey Brown, to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant.   Some mafia jerk caused trouble, Joseph whooped his ass, and then a second mafia guy apologized and shared a rumor he recently heard: Robert Speedwagon was found dead in a Mexican riverbed, apparently killed by a Tibetan monk.  

From there, we see that Joseph immediately realizes that this must have been Straizo, and Erina suspects that it must have something to do with the Stone Masks and the battle with Dio fifty years ago.   Smokey warns Joseph to consider the source, but Joseph is pretty sure it’s credible information, since mafia guys are all about money.   I’m not sure what that has to do with whether he’s telling the truth, though.   Either way, Joseph slugs the guy for just blurting out such terrible news in front of Granny Erina.  

Now, at this point, Joseph and Erina are making all these Phantom Blood references, and Smokey has no idea what they’re talking about.   And I think seeing this panel helped me understand Smokey’s role as a viewpoint character.  When the Part began, it seemed like Smokey was sort of the narrator for the thing, which works because he’s a good viewpoint character, and he seemed to be settling in as a sidekick like Speedwagon and Poco in Part 1.   But shortly after this he just vanishes from Battle Tendency altogether, and then he shows up at the end like it’s no big deal.   I never quite understood that, and I think this is the sort of thing that fuels the “Araki forgot” memes, but it actually makes a lot of sense.  

See, Smokey’s primary function is to be the viewpoint character, specifically for the readers who missed out on Phantom Blood.    BT is a direct continuation of the previous part, in a way that none of the other JoJo parts are.   Most of the main BT cast was deeply affected by what happened in Part 1.   A few of them lived through it, and the ones that didn’t have personal connections to it.    So they constantly talk about Stone Masks and Dio without really stopping to explain any of it.   Well, if you don’t know what they’re talking about, you can take heart in the fact that Smokey doesn’t know either.   So as long as he can keep up with the story, so can the uninitiated readers.  For now, all that matters is that he’s impressed by the Joestars’ great kindness, and he’s intrigued and disturbed by these hints of a tragic past in their family.  

And eventually, Smokey learns just what happened to the Joestar Family, or at least everything that the reader needs to know to follow Part 2.   But that doesn’t happen until near the end, which is why he shows up to hear the secrets revealed.   But for most of the story, he steps aside, because that’s mostly about Joseph dealing with events in the here and now, so Joseph can act as his own viewpoint character.  

But is Speedwagon truly dead?   The story flashes back to the previous night, after Straizo killed his own disciples and clobbered Speedwagon.   They’re in this temple where Speedwagon discovered more Stone Masks, like the one Dio used, but Speedwagon also discovered an immortal man petrified in a stone column.    Straizo was enlisted to destroy this “Pillar Man” with his Hamon power, but instead he wants to use one of the Stone Masks to turn himself into a vampire.  

Before he does this, he reads Speedy’s translations of the writing on the walls of the temple.    The ancient Aztec cultists who built it said that the Pillar Man was immortal and had many powers, but he was vulnerable to the sun, just like the vampires from Part 1.   But the writings warn that the Pillar Man created the Stone Masks because of this weakness, and one day, “when he befriends the sun, the world will be his.”  That doesn’t seem to follow, since the only thing the Stone Masks seem to be able to do is make new vampires, who are just as vulnerable to sunlight as the Pillar Man.   

Anyway, Straizo doesn’t seem to care.   He just doesn’t want to die of old age, and he’s become disillusioned with the Hamon power he has, so he’s turning heel and going full goth on us.   To avoid Dio’s mistakes, he plans to eliminate any witnesses, including Joseph and Erina.  Then he’ll go into hiding and figure out a long term plan, with the rest of the world unaware of his existence. 

You know, now that I write that out, I’m amazed by how similar that plan is to what Dio ends up doing in Part 3.   In Part 1, he set about turning a whole town into zombies, and planning to unleash them on the world without any real agenda.    But in Part 3 he eventually holed up in a swank mansion in Cairo and took great pains to stay hidden while he acquired more power.   Parts 5 and 8 carry that same idea even further, with villains who go to great lengths to cover up their very existence.   

At any rate, we only see Speedwagon pass out in this scene, so it’s unclear whether he actually dies or not.   Really, using Speedwagon in this way is a pretty smart play.   He’s an old man, and he was never going to survive another 50-year time-skip into the next part, so it’s safe to assume that Part 2 is his swan song.   But how will he die, and when?   It could be at the very start, or maybe somewhere in the middle.  

Anyway, Straizo just walks up to a cafe in New York to confront Joseph, and Joseph whips out a machine gun and shoots his ass.   This whole time, Straizo had assumed that the untrained grandson of Jonathan Joestar would be easy pickings, but Joseph’s a lot more skilled with Hamon than he expected, and he’s tricky too. 

As Joseph fires on Straizo, he recalls how worried Erina was about all this.   The story kind of glosses over it, but Joseph seems to have worked out Straizo’s entire plan.   I guess that’s not much of a stretch.   He and Speedwagon were together with a temple full of Stone Masks, and then Straizo turned on Speedwagon.    Why else would he do that, unless he used the Stone Mask to turn into a vampire like Dio did?   And once you arrive at that conclusion, it isn’t hard to figure out what Straizo’s next move would be.    And that’s how Joseph was so prepared for this.    After the shooting stops, Smokey freaks out about Joseph murdering a dude, but Joseph was expecting a vampire the whole time. 

I also like Joseph’s line in the flashback.   Erina isn’t worried for herself, but for Joseph, because it looks like he’s being pulled into this same tragic fate as the rest of the family.   But Joseph resolves to face this head on.    “If this is my fate, then I accept it.”  Pretty sure Will Zeppeli said the same thing when he discovered that he would die saving Jonathan.  

There’s similar “call-to-adventure” moments in the other parts.   Jonathan has his when he accepts Zeppeli’s offer to train him to battle Dio again.  Jotaro has his when he defeats and saves Kakyoin, then learns what’ll happen to his mother if he doesn’t go.   Josuke has his when Angelo shows up and he has to avenge his grandfather.   Giorno kind of always had a hankering to take on Passione, but I think things got serious once he had a choice between killing or sparing Bruno.  There could be no turning back from that point.  For Jolyne, it was the moment she had a clear path to escape the prison but decided to go back in because that was where her enemy was.    For Johnny, it was that one battle where he chose to crawl towards the danger to save Gyro instead of withdrawing to safety.   For Gappy... I’d have to study that a bit.   

But for Joseph Joestar, it’s this moment.  Erina never sent Joseph to learn the Ripple from the Hamon monastary, and she seems to have taken great pains to keep him out of trouble, but now trouble has come to them, and Joseph isn’t about to back down.   

So yeah, bullets don’t actually kill vampires, but Joseph was hoping to destroy his head with some of those shots, or at least slow Straizo down long enough to finish him off.   Instead Straizo reveals that he has the power to shoot high pressure fluid from his eyes, the same move Dio used to kill Jonathan at the end of Part 1.   He calls this “Space Ripper Stingy Eyes” which is either stupid or brilliant depending on your mood, I guess.   He used it to protect his head from the machine gun fire, and then he uses it again to shoot Joseph... except he hits Joseph’s reflection in a nearby mirror, and I guess he didn’t notice the real thing standing behind him.

What makes this fight so awesome is that these two are determined to kill each other, and they each have extremely simple moves to defeat one another, but they have all these tricks and schemes to protect themselves.   Joseph manages to hit Straizo with Hamon, but it does nothing... because Straizo was a Hamon master before turning into a vampire.   He can’t use the Ripple without destroying himself now, but he still knows how to defend against it.   For instance, he’s got this scarf woven from dead bugs, because it conducts Hamon energy far more effectively than his own body.    So it just absorbs Joseph’s attacks and disperses the energy harmlessly away.   

Does it really have to be made of dead bugs?   I feel like Tonpetti just told him that as a prank.   “No, really (snort!) the only thing that works is dead bugs.  (tee-hee!)   It smells awful but you have to wear it (ha!).”

But Joseph has his own tricks, like... putting a dozen grenades on his opponent’s back when he isn’t looking!  Seriously, there was zero opportunity for him to do this.    One moment he steps over Straizo’s body to see if he’s still alive, and the next moment he supposedly planted all these things on his scarf.   I get that he could pull a string connected to the pin without being noticed, but that’s the only part that makes sense about this.   It’s still awesome, though.   If Jonathan had access to explosives, Part 1 would have been a lot shorter.  

I really think this was the battle that set the tone for Stand Battles in later Parts.   Araki loves these off-panel tricks in combat, and they’re a lot easier to explain when all of your characters have magic super powers.   If Joseph had Hermit Purple in this fight, there’d be no problem at all.   He could just use Hermit Purple to snake through the ventilation shafts and hook up all the grenades.   In fact, it’s tempting to suggest that Joseph was unconsciously using Hermit Purple throughout Part 2, but I don’t want to get into that right now.

Anyway, explosions don’t stop vampires any more than machine gun fire.   Straizo’s body is in pieces, but the pieces just slither back together and regenerate.   Wait, wouldn’t his head have been vaporized in that blast?   Also, Straizo spends the rest of this battle in the nude, so we know that stupid scarf is out of the equation.   Why didn’t Joseph just go back in the cafe and finish Straizo off while he was still in pieces?

Again, it’s easy to say “lol Araki forgot”, but I think it’s a lot more sensible to suggest that Joseph forgot.   As clever as he is, he went in with the Ripple, a machine gun, and a dozen grenades, and Straizo had an answer to all three.   He doesn’t want to press the attack because he’s out of tricks.   All he’s got left is another Hamon attack, which means Straizo will see it coming.   Or he’s still worried about the scarf, and hasn’t realized that it’s gone now.    In any event, he’s running away, creating some distance before Straizo can make his next move.

Also, there’s a lot of bystanders gathering around, so it makes sense to take the fight elsewhere.   Some guy named “Bruty” tries to stop Joseph to impress his girlfriend, but that backfires spectacularly.  Was Bruty in the anime?  I feel like he wasn’t, but I don’t want to check. 

The one I do remember is this girl photographer.   Spider-Man hadn’t been invented yet, so in those days photographers just sort of wandered around with their camera, waiting for Spidey to debut.   This exploding vampire diner is the best she could do in 1938.  

I just really like this lady.   There’s a spark in her eye and I just assumed she would end up being Joseph’s love interest by the end of the story.    Well, we’ll get to that.  

Instead, she’s a hostage.  Joseph and Smokey run to the Brooklyn Bridge?   I guess?   It’s a bridge, I’m sure of that much.   Anyway, Straizo catches this lady and takes her with him to intercept them.   He threatens to kill her unless Joseph faces him again.   But Straizo offers to spare Joseph and never trouble him again if Joseph runs away.   This is because Straizo figures that if Joseph chickens out now, then he’ll never be a threat to Straizo in the future, no matter how powerful his Hamon abilities become. 

Joseph tries to call his bluff, but then Straizo rips out one of the girl’s teeth to prove he means business, and Joseph gets furious all over again.  I don’t think he was ever planning to abandon this fight, but he was probably hoping to get Straizo to give up his hostage at least.   Now he’s just pissed, and Straizo is impressed.  Joseph tries to act cool, but he just can’t hide his passionate feelings.    This is in stark contrast to Jotaro, who wagered his own soul in a poker game and bluffed his way to victory. 

So Straizo tries again with the Space Ripper Stingy Eyes, but this time Joseph blocks it with two shot glasses charged with Hamon power, and then he lands the decisive blow.   But before Straizo dies, Joseph demands to know why Straizo dumped Speedwagon and the others in the river.   Not only does Joseph want to give him a proper burial, but he doesn’t understand why Straizo would have dumped them in the river, since that was how Joseph knew to expect him.  

Wait, I thought Straizo wanted Joseph to know he was coming.   Oh well.

Anyway, Straizo explains that he had to do it, because the Pillar Man was absorbing the blood from his victims.   Straizo was worried that the Pillar Man might awaken, so he put them in the river instead to be safe.    Nevertheless, he suspects that the Pillar Man will reawaken eventually anyway, and Straizo now realizes that it will be Joseph’s destiny to face him some day.    Then Straizo just uses the Ripple one last time, and self-destructs. 

It always seemed strange to me that Straizo saw the danger of the Pillar Man and just left things the way they were.   Maybe he planned to deal with him later, or maybe he just didn’t know or care about it until Joseph defeated him, and he felt a moral obligation to warn someone. 

I guess he could have destroyed the Pillar Man like Speedwagon wanted him to do in the first place, but it seems like Straizo didn’t realize that blood would wake him up until after he was already a vampire, and unable to use the Ripple.  For that matter, it remains to be seen if Hamon will work on Pillar Men.   

Anyway, what else is going on?   Oh, yeah, Europe is getting closer and closer to World War II.   The official start of the war is usually considered to be September 1, 1939, but Italy invaded Ethiopia in 1935, and Japan invaded China in 1937, and Germany annexed Austria and conquered Czechoslovakia in 1938, the year Battle Tendency is set.  So we’re in this weird time period where there’s Nazis in the story, and the British-American protagonist doesn’t care for them, but isn’t trying to kill them on sight.   I’ll be coming back to this topic later on. 

I think the main reason for including Nazi Germany in this story was to draw parallels between their goals and those of the fictional villains.    The Nazis believed themselves to be the “Master Race”, the most “evolved” people, and this made them worthy to rule the world.   Araki notes that they turned to all sorts of sci-fi/occult/fantasy stuff in their war.   Similarly, you have villains like Dio and Straizo turning to mysterious Stone Masks for spooky powers, and then you have the Pillar Man himself, who apparently sought the means to “befriend the sun” and rule over the world.    So the Nazis fit into this theme of trying to claim some sort of supremacy over other beings.  

But what’s their role in this story?   Well, the Germans have an “information base” in Mexico, run by a guy named Stroheim.   He makes pretty ladies shave him with a straight razor, and if he gets a nick he makes them lick the blood off, and then he threatens to cut off their tongues.   Also, he trained his dog to not eat treats until given permission. He’s a sick fuck, is my point. 

Wait, no, my point was that his staff discovered the bodies that Straizo dumped in the river, including Speedwagon, who’s still alive, somehow.      I guess Straizo was going to finish him off but he got in a hurry when he saw the Pillar Man absorbing the blood from the others.  Not sure how Speedwagon survived that ordeal, but Stroheim’s men have been taking care of him this whole time, and he was unconscious until recently, so it might have been touch-and-go for a while. 

            Back in New York, Joseph doesn’t know what this is all about, but he decides to go to Mexico himself to get to the bottom of it...