#but i think it also doesn’t really make sense

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Piercings and Puns

“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.

“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”

“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”

A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”

Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”

The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”

“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.

You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.

You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”

“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.

He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.

You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.

It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.

With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”

You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”

“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.

“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”

“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.

He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.

“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”

You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”

“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.

“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.

“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”

You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”

“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.

Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.

Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”

“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.

The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?

“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”

“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”

Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.

“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”

“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.

“Wouldnnae be the first time.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.

You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.

“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.

“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”

You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.

“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.

You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“

“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”

When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.

“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”

“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”

It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.

Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”

“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.

He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.

“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.

“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“

“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.

“It’s not a far walk-“

He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.

It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.

He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”

“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.

“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.

You frown. “Huh?”

“What falls but never gets hurt?”

You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.

His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”

“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”

“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”

You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.

“They were being shellfish.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.

[thestrongestkikufuku]

a business proposal, p. 3

» part one, part two, part four, part five, part six - ⟡⋆˙

» contents - ⟡⋆˙ fluff, crack, au, satoru gojo x f!reader, ceo!gojo, reader works in the same company, made up character 'rin' as your bestie, suguru geto as the secretary, gojo being persistent and a lil shit, curse word, chaos

» word count - ⟡⋆˙ 5.5k

» notes - ⟡⋆˙ hi hi dear readers!! welcome to part 3 of the business proposal inspired fic! this one is a longer one, i kinda got possessed while writing this, lol, i haven't slept at all and it's almost 7 am >.< i've had some challenges on what to take from the show without making this too long because i really want to get started on the whole "fake dating" process, while also slowly building up the relationship. but in the next part we will uncover and explore more of the relationship so stay tuned!! :D anyways, happy reading and if you want to be added in the taglist for upcoming parts please let me know!! :D<3

» m.list - ⟡⋆˙

The next morning, Rin dragged you out of bed early with a wide smile on her face. “Come on, we’re going shopping!” she announced, practically bouncing with excitement.

You were initially confused but quickly became caught up in Rin’s infectious energy. She took you to all the high-end boutiques, insisting on buying you the most exquisite clothes. You protested, but Rin waved away your objections with a grin. “Consider it my treat! You deserve to be spoiled.”

By the time you both arrived at a charming little café, your makeup has been done, and you were wearing a stunning new outfit, complete with elegant accessories. “Rin, this is amazing,” you said, beaming at her. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

Rin laughed nervously. “Heh, well I did say I owed you for when you stepped up, right?” she replied sheepishly, her eyes darting around the café. “Now, let’s sit and have some coffee.”

You chatted happily, sipping your drinks and enjoying the cozy atmosphere. It wasn’t until Rin glanced at her watch and her expression tightened that you felt a sense of unease.

“[name], listen carefully.. There’s something I need to tell you,” Rin said, her voice suddenly serious. “Satoru Gojo will be here soon.”

You spat out your drink as panic surged through you. “HUH?! SATORU GOJO?! WHAT—”

Rin nodded, looking equally panicked now that she’d said it out loud. “I didn’t have a choice! He realized that we were friends and asked to meet you.”

“Then you should’ve pretended not to know me!” You exclaimed, your heart racing.

“I tried! But then he said he’d find out on his own! God, [name], he’s so scary! What if he discovers you’re his employee!?” Rin's voice was rising, her eyes wide with anxiety.

You both sat there in a shared moment of panic, glancing around the café as if expecting Gojo to walk in any second. 

“You could’ve at least warned me!” You exclaimed suddenly, your mind spinning with the sudden pressure, a mix of fear and frustration bubbling up inside you.

“Then you wouldn’t have come here!” Rin countered, her voice tinged with desperation, “but that doesn’t matter now, he thinks you owe him an apology.” She bit her lip, clearly regretting her decision to drag you into this.

“W-what?”

“Just say you're sorry! Nothing could go wrong, right?” Rin offered you a forced smile, meant to reassure you, though it only fueled your panic. Her attempt at comfort was painfully unconvincing, and you could see her own fear mirrored in her eyes. “Anyway, I’ll be going now.”

“You’re leaving?!” Your voice rose in disbelief.

Rin hummed as she rushed to gather her things then handed you a big paper bag, “don’t forget to wear the wig.”

“Wha—”

“I’m so sorry.” Rin shot you an apologetic smile before running off, leaving you alone to face the impending storm.

“Wait! RIN!” you called out after your friend, but she was already gone. “Shit—” 

You fumbled with the bag Rin left, searching frantically for the wig she mentioned. You found it nestled among the clothes she bought you, hurriedly pulling it out and attempting to adjust it over your hair, praying you'd be ready before Gojo walked through the door.

Your hands trembled as you struggled to fit the wig over your hair. “Come on, come on,” you muttered under your breath. 

The clock on the wall ticked mercilessly, each tick echoing loudly in your ears. You stole quick glances at the entrance, half-expecting to see Gojo's distinctive figure appear at any moment. The café seemed to shrink around you, the cozy atmosphere now suffocating with the impending arrival of Satoru Gojo. Every passing second felt like an eternity, your heart pounding in your chest as you imagined the scenarios that could unfold if he saw you right now.

Finally, with a shaky sigh of relief, you managed to secure the wig in place, patting down the stray strands, hoping it looked convincing enough. 

The café seemed quieter now, the soft hum of people’s conversations around you contrasting sharply with the rapid beating of your heart. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves as you mentally rehearsed what you might say to Gojo if and when he arrived. Apologize? For what exactly? Rin’s vague explanation had left you more confused than reassured.

Just then, the door to the café swung open, and in walked a figure that made your breath catch in your throat. It was him—Satoru Gojo, unmistakable with his white hair and striking blue eyes.

He scanned the room casually at first, his gaze drifting past you without a flicker of recognition. But then his eyes doubled back, focusing directly on your table, slowly approaching to take a seat in front of you.

You sat there in tense silence, acutely aware of Satoru Gojo’s presence across from you. His gaze was inscrutable, his expression calm yet somehow piercing. Panic churned in your stomach as you wondered what he was thinking, what he might do next.

After what felt like an eternity, Gojo broke the silence. “So, how much did Miss Takahashi pay you to impersonate her?”

Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected question. You hadn’t anticipated this direct approach. Frantically, you searched for words, trying to gather your thoughts amid the rush of adrenaline.

“I-I…” you stammered, your mind racing. “I didn’t want to do it at first, but she offered me 90,000 yen,” you blurted out, the words tumbling out in a rush.

Gojo arched an eyebrow, his interest piqued. “90,000 yen, huh?” he mused, leaning back slightly in his chair. “You tried to scam me for merely 90,000 yen?”

“Going as a replacement isn’t technically a scam, now is it?” You nervously attempted to defend yourself, the words stumbling out amidst the tumult of guilt and panic.

Gojo's gaze hardened slightly, his piercing blue eyes narrowing as he regarded you thoughtfully. The weight of his scrutiny made your throat tighten, regret seeping into your every nerve.

“You pretended to be another person,” Gojo began, his voice cutting through the air with a sharp edge of disappointment. “You deliberately wasted someone’s precious time for your own benefit. If that’s not a scam, then what is it?”

“I'm sorry,” you whispered, the words heavy with guilt and sincerity. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just... I needed the money, and Rin... I-I wish I could make it up to you, but there’s not much I can do..” 

There was a long moment of silence before you gathered the courage to speak again.

“But,” you continued, your voice wavering slightly, “if there's ever anything I can do, please let me know, and I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to help you out.” you said, forcing enthusiasm into your voice.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Gojo stared at you with a penetrating gaze, his expression unreadable. The weight of his scrutiny made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, unsure of what to expect next. 

Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, you ventured cautiously, “Are you... Still mad at me?”

“In what way do I look like an archaeopteryx?” Gojo questioned suddenly, a serious expression settling over his features.

The question caught you off guard, and you blinked in confusion. “Uh... what?” you asked, baffled by the sudden shift from serious to whimsical. “I.. Is that why you’re angry?”

“It is not why I’m angry,” Gojo replied firmly, his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned back slightly in his chair with a small huff. “It's just that I've never heard such nonsense before. So I was caught off guard, yes.”

You let out a nervous laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “Oh, that? I.. I just said whatever popped into my head because I wanted you to stop asking me to marry you.”

“Whatever popped into your head?” Gojo echoed, the seriousness of his expression unwavering.

“Look, I got nervous okay? I-I just really tried to play my part, I really didn’t mean anything by it.” you stammered, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I-If there's nothing else you want to talk about, we can just wrap this up and forget that all of this has happened.” You suggested tentatively, hoping to diffuse the awkward tension.

But before you could move to gather your things, Gojo’s voice cut through the air, unexpectedly serious. “Wait,” he said, raising his hand slightly, “let me see your phone.”

Confused, you hesitantly handed him the device, watching as he quickly tapped on the screen. 

“Really? ‘Don’t Answer’?” Gojo asked with a brow raised, turning the screen towards you to reveal his contact name. “You should save my name instead, and from now on you have to pick up my calls, no matter what.”

“But—”

“If you don’t answer or try to disappear, I’ll come find you.” He said, suddenly holding up a small, quaintly designed business card that read 'Sweet Delights Bakery' in playful, elegant script, adorned with a whimsical illustration of a cupcake.

His words hung in the air, carrying a weight you couldn’t ignore. The seriousness in his tone left no room for doubt—he meant what he said.

“I-I... How did you...?” you stammered, feeling exposed and caught off guard.

Gojo leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You dropped it earlier,” he replied casually, as if revealing an obvious fact. “So you own a bakery?”

You sighed heavily, “not me, it’s a family business.. My father owns it.”

“How intriguing. Perhaps I’ll drop by sometime to see your handiwork.” He mused, giving you a cheeky smile.

Your throat tightened as you processed his words, slowly taking your phone back. 

“Okay.” You mustered out weakly, your fingers trembling as you hastily typed ‘Archaeopteryx’ as his contact name.

“Also, what’s your real name?”

“Oh, it’s—” You hesitated, a knot forming in your stomach. You knew you couldn't reveal your real name, not when you worked for him, that could mean trouble if he finds out about it. “Um... my name... it’s...” You faltered, searching for an excuse. “It’s Mei.”

“Mei?” Gojo repeated, his eyebrow quirking up in curiosity.

“Yes.. Mei,” you confirmed, trying to sound convincing. “Just... call me Mei.”

Gojo studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating. “Alright then, Miss Mei,” he said finally, his tone unreadable. 

Relief flooded through you as Gojo entered the fake name into his phone. You thanked whatever luck you had that he didn’t press further. 

—

That same night, exhaustion finally overcame you, the events of the day had left you emotionally drained, and you eagerly welcomed the respite of slumber with open arms. However, the peace was short-lived.

A sudden ringing shattered the silence, jerking you awake. Disoriented and groggy, it took a few moments to register the persistent sound of your phone vibrating on the nightstand. With a sigh, you fumbled for it, quickly pressing the button to answer the call.

“Hello?” you managed to croak out, your voice thick with sleep.

“Ah, Miss Mei, you're awake.”

Confusion swept over you. “Hm, what? Who’s prank calling me—”

“This is not a prank call, Miss Mei. Are you.. Are you half asleep?” His voice held a hint of amusement.

“I’m not Mei—” squinting at the bright screen in the darkness, you see the contact name, ‘Archaeopteryx’. You jolt up on your bed, running your fingers through your hair in frustration, “—a-ah, sorry! You just surprised me, that’s all.. Um.. Why did you call?”

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t get a new number to cut me off, that's all,” he said casually, his tone bearing no hint of remorse for the disruption he had caused. “Goodnight.”

“Wha—”

Before you could formulate a coherent response, the line went dead. Staring at your phone in disbelief, frustration bubbled up within you. It was late, you were wide awake now, and there seemed to be no reason for Gojo's late-night call other than to unsettle you further.

Tossing your phone back onto the nightstand, you buried your face in your hands, feeling a mix of irritation and helplessness. 

“He’s crazy, he’s actually crazy.” You muttered under your breath, glancing at the clock. Your eyes widened upon seeing the time—4 a.m.

“UGH, this guy is so annoying!”

—

“Do you think there’s anyone else who goes on ten blind dates a day?” Gojo’s voice broke the silence, glancing at his friend.

“No.” Geto answered bluntly, a playful smile forming on his lips, “and I can assure you that you’ll set a new record for the most blind dates in the shortest amount of time.”

Gojo snorted, rolling his eyes at Geto’s remark. “I just don’t get it,” he began, his brows furrowing slightly. His relaxed and playful expression slowly morphed into a serious one. “These girls.. They’re all beautiful. But every conversation feels rehearsed, as if they’re all saying what they think I want to hear, it’s creepy.”

“It’s most likely because they want to impress you, Satoru.” Geto countered calmly, offering him a reassuring smile, “but I don’t doubt that you will find someone eventually. Besides, they seemed a little better than the fake ‘Rin Takahashi’.”

“Well, at least the fake ‘Rin Takahashi’ wasn’t boring.” Gojo retorted, sighing heavily as he threaded his fingers through his white locks. “There’s just... Something about her..”

Geto hummed softly, nodding thoughtfully as he considered Gojo’s words. “So what will you do?”

—

As the sun dipped toward the horizon, you found yourself immersed in the usual rhythm of work. The hum of conversations and the rhythmic tapping of keyboards provided a comforting backdrop, a return to normalcy after the whirlwind of emotions stirred up by the intense situation involving Satoru Gojo.

Just as you were engrossed in a particularly challenging task, your phone buzzed insistently on the desk. Glancing at the screen, your heart skipped a beat when you saw ‘Archaeopteryx’ flashing brightly. Dread coiled in the pit of your stomach as you answered the call, trying to keep your voice steady despite the rising panic.

“Hello?” you ventured cautiously.

“Hello, Miss Mei,” came Gojo's voice, cool and composed. “I was thinking we should meet up to talk.”

Your mind raced, thoughts tumbling over each other in a chaotic whirl. Why did he want to meet? What does he want to talk about? You struggled to find words, your throat dry as you searched for a response.

“Um, yeah, sure,” you managed finally, attempting to sound nonchalant despite the turmoil inside. “When?”

“How about tonight?” Gojo suggested casually. “I know a quiet spot not far from your place.”

“Tonight?” you echoed, anxiety tightening its grip on you. “I-I'm not sure if—”

“It’ll be quick,” Gojo interrupted smoothly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Just a chat.”

“I-I’ll be working late, I’m helping my father close today.” Trying your best to steer him away from the idea.

Gojo’s voice remained calm and determined. “No worries. I’ll wait for you. See you then.”

Before you could protest further or ask for more details, he ended the call abruptly. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you reeling with uncertainty. The clock on your desk seemed to tick louder, each passing second heightening your nerves.

Fighting to steady your trembling hands, you took a deep breath, attempting to focus on your work. But Gojo’s unexpected request echoed in your mind, stirring a whirlwind of questions and apprehensions. What did he want to discuss?

—

Later that evening, you found yourself helping your father close up the bakery. The warm scent of freshly baked bread still lingered in the air, mixing with the soft hum of the ovens cooling down. Despite the familiar surroundings, a knot of anxiety tightened in your chest.

As you wiped down the counters, a sense of dread crept in, intensifying with each passing minute. Thoughts of your impending meeting with Gojo gnawed at your mind like an insistent itch. What did he want to discuss? And why was it so urgent that he requested a late-night meeting? Uncertainty burdened your shoulders, diverting your attention from the usual tasks at hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” your father's voice interrupted your thoughts gently. He glanced at you with concern, his eyes catching the weariness in yours. “I’ll be heading upstairs now. Is that alright?”

You forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Oh, yeah sure. You go ahead.”

His brow furrowed slightly, sensing there was more beneath the surface. “You sure?” he pressed gently, crossing his arms on his chest. “You seem a little.. Distracted? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” you assured him, avoiding his gaze as guilt pricked at your conscience. How could you explain the mess you'd unwillingly gotten yourself into? “I just... Have some things to sort out with work. It’ll be fine.”

Your father studied you for a moment longer, his expression softening slightly, “alright, if you say so,” he relented, sensing your reluctance to share more. “Just take care of yourself, okay? And call if you need anything.”

“I will,” you promised, forcing another smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

As you watched him leave, a sense of apprehension settling in your chest. You immediately gather your things as you hurried to the small employee restroom tucked away in the corner of the building. You hastily pulled out the wig stashed in your bag and swiftly put it on, adjusting the unruly strands until they framed your face nicely. A quick touch-up of makeup followed, just enough to subtly alter your features, transforming you into the fabricated “Mei”. It was a disguise borne out of necessity, a guise to navigate the unforeseen entanglement Gojo had dragged you into. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you glanced at your reflection in the dimly lit mirror, reassuring yourself that you looked different enough to pass unnoticed.

Stepping back into the bakery’s main area, you locked the door behind you and ventured into the cool night air. The street lamps cast long shadows as you made your way to the agreed-upon meeting spot, a quiet café not far from your workplace. Each step felt heavier than the last as you trudged towards the building. The café was nearly empty when you arrived, only a few lingering customers left, sipping their drinks. Spotting Gojo at a secluded table near the window, you approached cautiously, the click of your heels against the tiled floor barely audible in the hushed atmosphere.

He looked up as you approached, his gaze lingering on you for a brief moment before a faint smile touched his lips. 

“Hello, Miss Mei.” Gojo greeted smoothly, gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him. “You look different tonight.” he remarked casually, sipping from his cup of tea. His eyes, however, bore into yours with an intensity that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat.

“It’s been a long day,” you deflected, forcing a smile that felt stiff on your lips. “So, um, what did you want to talk about?”

Gojo set his cup down, his expression growing serious once more. “This isn’t really a place to say such things but,” he began as he leaned closer, “I want us to start dating. With marriage in mind.”

“What?” Your eyes widened at his sudden request, shock evident in your voice. “Dating? Marriage?”

Gojo leaned back, observing your reaction with a calm demeanor. “I know it sounds sudden, but hear me out. My grandfather has been pressuring me to find a wife. And he's been... Relentless, and frankly, it’s driving me insane. He has set up countless blind dates, all of which have been less than ideal. All I want for you is to pretend that you’re in a relationship with me, just to calm him down a little.”

You blinked, trying to process his words. “You want to fake date me to get your grandfather off your back?”

He nodded, his expression sincere. “Exactly. And you wouldn’t even have to do much—just attend a few family gatherings, maybe a couple of events. It would give me some breathing room and hopefully that’ll convince him.”

“I..” you stare at him for a moment, disbelief spreading across your features as you shake your head, “no.. No way! I won’t.”

Gojo’s eyebrow quirked up at your outburst, “why not?”

“Why— you have been calling me a fraud— a-an imposter! And now you want me to do it all over again?!”

“Well, I figured you’d be the best person for the job.” Gojo shrugged casually, taking another sip of his tea.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re good at pretending to be someone else,” he replied nonchalantly. “You managed to fool me, didn’t you? Besides, you already know how to handle difficult situations. This will be a walk in the park compared to what you’ve already been through.”

Frustration bubbled up inside you. “You think this is some kind of game? This isn’t just about fooling your family. It’s my life too.”

Gojo’s expression softened slightly. “I know it’s a lot to ask, and I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t think you could handle it. Look, you wanted to repay your debt, right? Not to mention all the precious time I’ll save. It’s a win-win situation, is it not?”

You bit your lip, feeling cornered. “It’s not that simple, you know? Pretending to be someone I’m not, pretending to be in a relationship… It's exhausting and emotionally taxing.”

“I get that,” he said, his voice sincere. “And I’m willing to make it worth your while. Whatever you need, I can help with. Financially, professionally, you name it. Just think about it. Whatever Miss Takahashi offered you, I'll double it.”

You sighed, the weight of his offer pressing down on you. The logical part of you recognized the potential benefits—paying off debts, helping your father out, gaining influential connections. But the emotional part of you recoiled at the idea of diving deeper into this charade.

“I-I’ll think about it.”

The silence that followed was heavy, and you could feel Gojo’s gaze on you, waiting for more. But instead of elaborating, you found yourself standing abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gojo,” you said, your voice trembling slightly as you bowed at him. “But I have to head home now.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Gojo sitting alone at the table. You could feel his eyes on you as you exited the café, but you didn’t look back. 

—

The soft glow of your desk lamp illuminated the paperwork strewn across your desk as you worked on a project that was due the next morning. Your eyes felt heavy with fatigue, and you longed for the comfort of your bed. The clock on your wall ticked away, reminding you just how late it had become. With a sigh, you decided to wrap up for the night, stacking your papers neatly and turning off your computer.

Just as you were about to head to bed, your phone buzzed on the desk. The sudden noise startled you, and you glanced at the screen to see ‘Archaeopteryx’ flashing brightly. Your heart sank, a mixture of dread and annoyance bubbling up inside you. Why was Gojo calling you so late?

Reluctantly, you answered the call. “Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Mei,” Gojo’s voice was as smooth as ever, but there was an underlying urgency that made you uneasy. “I’m outside your house.”

Panic gripped you instantly, suddenly feeling more awake. Oh, god why now? You weren't even in your disguise; you were just yourself, in your pajamas, your face completely bare.

“W-what? Why are you here?” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady.

“It’s been a few days since our last encounter, and I needed to talk to you,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to show up unannounced. “Can you come meet me outside?”

You glanced around your apartment, your mind racing. “Um, I... I’m not really... prepared for visitors,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

“I won’t take long,” he insisted. “Just a quick chat.”

You hesitated, weighing your options. The last thing you wanted was for Gojo to see you like this, without the wig and makeup that turned you into “Mei”. But you knew he wouldn't leave easily. Taking a deep breath, you decided to face him.

“Okay, okay, just— give me a minute,” you said, trying to keep the anxiety out of your voice. You ended the call and quickly looked around your apartment for anything that might help.

There was no time to put on the full disguise, but you grabbed a nearby hoodie and a pair of sunglasses, hoping that it would be enough to obscure your features. With a final deep breath, you headed towards the door, your heart pounding in your chest.

As you exited your apartment complex, your eyes caught sight of Gojo’s car parked under a streetlamp, his figure leaning casually against the hood.

Gojo looked up as you approached, his eyes immediately narrowing at your makeshift disguise. “Interesting choice of attire,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“I wasn’t expecting company,” you retorted, pulling the hood tighter around your face. “What’s so urgent that it couldn’t wait until morning?”

Without a word, Gojo reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a neatly folded document. He handed it to you, his expression serious. “This is a draft of the contract for our arrangement. I had it drawn up to outline the terms clearly.”

You unfolded the document, your eyes scanning the formal language and detailed clauses. It was all there in black and white: the terms of your fake relationship, the things you had to do, the financial compensation. Everything was meticulously planned out.

You looked up at Gojo, disbelief and frustration now evident on your face. “You seriously expect me to agree to this?” you asked, your voice rising. “No. No way—”

“When you were apologizing to me the first time, you said you’d help with whatever I needed. Or was that all an empty promise?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, quickly silencing you. You remembered that moment vividly, the desperation in your voice as you tried to make amends for your deception. 

“That was different,” you countered, shaking your head. “I didn’t know you were going to ask me to lie to your family.”

“Is it really that different?” Gojo asked, his tone calm but insistent. “You wanted to make things right, to repay a debt. This is your chance. And it’s not like you’ll be doing it for free. The compensation is generous.”

“No!” You countered stubbornly, your voice firm and resolute. “Find another woman.” 

With that, you turn on your heel, ready to march back to your apartment. But before you could take another stride, Gojo moved swiftly. His hand shot out, gripping your arm gently but firmly, halting your retreat as he turned you around

“Let go,” you demanded, trying to pull your arm free, but Gojo's grip didn’t waver.

“Please, just listen to me,” he implored, his voice low and urgent. “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t truly need your help.”

“Mr. Gojo, I can’t,” you asserted firmly, meeting his eyes with a mixture of resolve and apprehension. “I have my reasons.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “And what are those reasons?”

Your mind raced as you stood silently in front of him, Gojo's intense gaze fixed on you. His question hung in the air, demanding an answer you couldn’t easily give. You couldn’t reveal the true reason—the fear of him possibly finding out about your true identity, which could jeopardize your entire career. And as the CEO of the company where you worked at, Gojo held a significant sway over your professional future. The mere thought of it sent chills down your spine.

“I—”

Your words come to a stop, your heart pounding in your chest as you see a figure approaching from behind him. Dread washed over you as you recognized your father, returning from his late-night snack run. Panic surged through you, a rush of adrenaline urging you to act swiftly. Without thinking, you quickly pushed Satoru Gojo behind the dumpster with more force than you intended, but Gojo’s swift reflexes pulled you down with him, and you landed awkwardly on top of him.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world around you blurred into insignificance. Gojo's expression was a mixture of surprise and amusement, his lips quirking into a half-smile despite the awkwardness of the situation. His hands instinctively held onto you, one arm around your waist and the other supporting your back, his breath warm against your cheek.

As your father entered the building, oblivious to the unfolding scene, you scrambled to your feet, hastily brushing off your clothes in an attempt to compose yourself. The urgency to maintain appearances clashed with the lingering closeness you felt with Gojo, leaving you flustered and uncertain of how to proceed.

“S-sorry,” you stammered nervously, extending your hand to help Gojo up from the ground. His half-smile remained, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as he accepted your gesture, grasping your hand firmly.

“Thanks.” Gojo murmured as he started to pull himself up.

But just as he rose to his feet, his expression suddenly shifted, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. Before you could react, Gojo swayed unsteadily, his grip on your hand tightening briefly before his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed, panic seizing your heart as you knelt beside him. His body lay limp on the ground, unconscious and eerily still. Fear gripped you as you checked for any signs of injury, your fingers trembling as you brushed his hair back from his forehead. Did he hit his head too hard? Is he...?

Panic washed through you as gently shake his shoulder. “Gojo? Gojo, wake up.”

But there was no response from him, his eyelids remained shut.

“Shit!”

—

The memory of Gojo collapsing haunted you, the image replaying in your mind. Though he appeared remarkably well now, considering the events of last night. But you couldn't shake the worry that gnawed at your insides as you sat across from him in the small meeting room. You both had agreed to meet to discuss the contract for the fake arrangement—something you had been adamant about not signing.

As you read through the document again, your brow furrowed with determination. “This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, scanning the clauses once more.

With a sigh, Gojo leaned back in his chair, his expression turning serious. “You know, I was supposed to sign a crucial contract this morning. But thanks to yesterday's little incident,” he paused, rubbing his temples as if in discomfort, “I had to clear my entire schedule for the day. Missed that meeting, lost that contract.”

Your heart sank at his words, guilt and frustration knotting in your stomach. “I-I’m really sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen.”

“Yeah, well, here we are,” he replied curtly, his tone sharp with irritation. But then, a glint of mischief flickered in his eyes, a knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “But.. If you just accept my offer, I won’t sue for the damages. And I’ll still pay you what I promised.”

His casual threat hit you like a punch to the gut. The implication hung heavily in the air, undeniable and unsettling. You glanced down at the contract, the words swimming before your eyes. This wasn’t just about signing a piece of paper anymore; it was about conceding to his terms under pressure.

“Mr. Geto,” Gojo began, his voice firm and sharp, “contact the legal and tell them to proceed with the lawsuit right away—”

“Okay, okay, fine! I’ll sign it!” You interrupted, your voice edged with frustration and resignation.

Gojo’s smile widened into a satisfied grin as he leaned forward to give you the pen. “Good choice.”

As you reluctantly added your signature to the contract, a sense of defeat settled over you. The ink dried with finality, sealing the agreement that bound you to Gojo in ways you never imagined. The weight of his expectations and the consequences of your actions bore down on you heavily.

After Gojo gathered the signed document and tucked it away with a sense of finality. “Well, that settles it then.” he said as he stood up, his gaze lingering on you thoughtfully, “I’ll call you later to schedule another meeting with you soon. There's a lot of things we need to go through and talk about.”

You nodded weakly in acknowledgment, still processing the whirlwind of emotions and decisions made in such a short time.

With that, Gojo turned towards the door and left the office without looking back. The quiet click of the door closing echoed in the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the signed contract that now bound you to an uncertain future.

The feeling of regret settled in as you stared at the empty chair where Gojo had been just moments before. 

“Oh god, what have I done?”

» taglist - ⟡⋆˙ @megumisthirdog, @inluvkai, @ieathairs, @roscpctals99, @laviefantasie, @snwvie, @sanriosatoru, @reagan707, @keaugh, @cc1306, @shadowheads-shitshow, @pinkprincessglitterzombie

[ladycaramelswirl]

definitely not old

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

A/N: Did I create an extremely improbable scenario just to suit my need to create another highly improbable scenario? Yes. Do I care that it’s unrealistic? No. Please forgive any typos/ grammatical errors. 

CW: suggestive content, but not explicit (like 15+?). Use of y/n one time. (Technically this would probably warrant one of those hostile workplace environment seminars like they had for Derek and Penelope. But it’s funny? Idk this isn’t serious.) Sassy Hotch. Crack plot tbh. 

Also I know the timeline doesn’t really make sense, because JJ is a profiler and Emily and Rossi exist, but I imagined Season 1 Spencer while writing this! I guess it’s 2005? Btw I do not know how tapes work, so just pretend it makes sense please. This is so unserious. 

Summary: reader wife and Hotch are private people; the BAU team is nosy. Spencer is just constantly in the right place at the wrong time. 

Enjoy!

——————

The screen in front of you depicted horror - just not the kind the BAU was used to. The UnSub had confessed to leaving a message in an old tape. He had already been arrested, but you were all hoping it might contain something that might help the conviction stick. Only he was extremely paranoid, so not only had he left the message in a code, but he had spliced it into a tape he thought people were least likely to watch. His p***. It was the last thing to do for the case and everyone was trying to help. You all sit at the round table, and Spencer shifts in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. Derek laughs at his shyness and Emily laughs at the very unrealistic movements. She and JJ tilt their heads at the shape the two on the screen have put themselves into. 

“That does not look comfortable”, JJ mocks. 

The words are out of your mouth before you think. “Trust me it’s not”. 

Everyone at the table snaps their heads to look at you. 

“Damn Mama”, Derek laughs. “Who are you doing these moves with?”

You try to hold back a laugh. You were not ready to share about your sex life with your colleagues, no matter how close you were. Plus you’re pretty sure Aaron would not appreciate it. 

“That is inappropriate workplace conversation”, you say, pausing the video. “And you’re going to miss the next series of code”, you tell him, trying to get him to revert his attention back to the video. Emily grins at your attempted evasion.

“We already got all the code. She just doesn’t want us to tell Hotch she’s capable of all that. Doesn’t want to make the old man feel bad”.

“He’s not old. He’s only 5 years older than you”, you remind her. She puts a hand on her chest in mock offense like you’ve stabbed her. You roll your eyes. “And this is still inappropriate”.

“So it wasn’t Hotch”, Derek laughs. 

“You’re just annoyed because you haven’t tried it yourself”, you deflect, moving to sit next to Spencer who seems to actually be doing his job. 

“I’ve seen her do yoga and she’s very flexible, so if she couldn’t do it I don’t think you can”, JJ tells Morgan. 

“Oh you have no idea what I’m capable of”, he teases, which earns laughs from around the table. “I’m better than the old man for sure”. They all start laughing and talking about you and Hotch. 

You roll your eyes. “Wasn’t old in bed last night”, you mutter under your breath. You startle at the sound of a book hitting the floor and see Spencer’s bright red face. JJ, Derek and Emily look over in curiosity at what they might have missed, but you ignore them, attempting to give Spencer an apology for making him uncomfortable. He moves to drink his coffee in an attempt to avoid more of the conversation. Only he chokes on it because Hotch enters the room. 

“Have you finished working out the code?”

Everyone’s heads snap to him - JJ, Emily and Derek wearing matching grins. Hotch eyes you patting a coughing Spencer’s back.

“Are you alright?”, he asks. 

“Yes! Good! I’m good!”, Spencer squeaks, afraid Hotch is going to ask him why he’s so nervous. Aaron looks to you for some answers but before you can tell him it’s nothing, Spencer suddenly stands up.

“Got the code! Going to call the local PD. DA is waiting”, he warbles before you all watch him run out of the room. Hotch turns back to the rest of you. 

“Well then that wraps it up. Go home now, get some rest”, he instructs. Everyone starts packing up. You and Hotch walk towards the door when he realises there’s only 6 of you in the room. 

“Where’s Dave?”, he asks.

You’re about to tell him Rossi went to the bathroom when the Italian walks back in. Rossi immediately notes the paused video.

“Wow that looks uncomfortable”, he remarks. Everyone smirks in your direction. Hotch snakes an arm around your waist and looks at the screen. Then at you. 

“It was, wasn’t it?”

He smiles at the jaws dropping to the floor. 

“Good night everyone”.

—————————

A little bonus scene:

In his office later:

“You heard us talking before you came in the room didn’t you”, you question your husband. He was so private, he wouldn’t have said something like that otherwise. 

“They called me old”, Aaron grumbles, but his tone is amused. “Just wanted to shock them a little”.

You make your way over to his side of the desk, pulling him to stand up beside you. 

“Well Agent Hotchner, I have to tell you, there’s been some speculation about your performance”, you taunt. “Care to prove them wrong?”

“Last night wasn’t enough proof?”, he laughs raising an eyebrow. You run your hands up his chest and behind his neck, pulling him close. 

“The results were inconclusive”, you tease. He grabs your hips and traps you between himself and his desk, his mouth trailing kisses down your jaw. 

“Well I can’t have that kind of speculation going around”, he murmurs into your skin. Your breath hitches from the sensation of his lips on the sensitive spot on your neck. But instead of continuing, he pulls away and meets your eyes in a conspiratorial grin. “We should do an in house evaluation as soon as possible”.

You open your mouth to reply when the door swings open, Spencer finding you sandwiched between Hotch’s thighs and your blouse rumpled. His mouth drops open and suddenly all 187 iq points mean nothing when his brain loses function.

“Oh- I- um- sorry!”, he manages before running away. You stare at the slammed door then back at Aaron and burst into giggles. He drops his head to your shoulders and sighs. 

“I feel like a teenager”, he groans.

“At least you don’t feel old.”

—————————

Bonus bonus: 

Still in the conference room: 

“I want to go back to 10 minutes ago when I didn’t know this information”, Emily moans. 

“I think I need 5 more minutes before I can form a coherent thought”, JJ laughs in disbelief. Spencer walks back in.

“I finished my report. Where’s Hotch and y/n? Can we go home?”

“Probably doing it in his office for all we know”, Derek mutters.

Spencer’s brows furrow in confusion. “Doing what in his office?”

Rossi raises an eyebrow at Emily. “Is this kid serious?”

She shrugs back at him. 

“Spence, Hotch says we can go home. But you should probably report about what local PD told you before you go”, JJ tells him.

Spencer nods and makes his way to Hotch’s office. The rest of the team watch him walk away.

“You think we should have told him to knock before going in?”

“Probably.”

The sound of a high pitch yelp and the slam of an office door echo down the hallway. 

“Oops.”

[epiphainie]

I see and love all your tearjerker proposal ideas, but we don’t talk enough about the absolute hilarity that would ensue with an Evan Buckley Proposal™️. Like I’m imagining him being soooo excited about it in the most Buck way possible. He has this ten page speech about how much he loves Tommy and how they’re soulmates and the universe pulled a sick one by putting them on each other’s paths and he’s planning to tell Tommy all that before he pops the question and he’s preparing this big romantic night for it with the most romantic flowers and the most romantic music and the most romantic ring at the most romantic place in all of Los Angeles and he’s roped in everyone at the station to help him, threatened Chim with cold-blooded murder if he doesn’t keep his mouth shut, made Eddie reassure him about every step of his plans not twice but thrice, talked to Bobby with blushing cheeks and fidgeting hands till Bobby gave him his absolute blessing. Hen, Maddie, Athena, they’re all in on it. He’s Ready to do it The Right Way.

Then at like 2pm on a lazy Tuesday afternoon his poor brain that has been overworking on this for weeks gets overloaded and crashes. And suddenly he Needs To Ask Tommy Right Now. Like, just like that the entire plan is overridden, and he doesn’t even process what he’s doing before he sends Eddie a text that just says, “I think I will do it now” and ditches his phone and marches to the garage where Tommy has been working on his truck all day.

The next thing we know Eddie is opening his door to a Buck who has his arms wrapped around himself and his big blue eyes are filled with tears. He looks like a puppy kicked a thousand ways and before Eddie can even open his mouth he cries out, “He said no,” and drops face first on Eddie’s couch. Eddie is like ???? but also “Well, I can’t deal with this shit on my own,” so he calls Hen and Chimney and ten minutes later Buck is sitting on the couch being interrogated by his best friends.

They’re all obviously confused.

Hen, disbelieving, asks, “He said no?”

Buck makes the most pathetic pitiful sound known to the human kind and nods.

Chimney, not really helpful, murmurs, “Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” to himself because he knows how much Tommy loves Buck and would say yes to marrying him months, hell, years ago.

Hen, trying to make sense of it all asks, “What did he exactly say?” because Chim is right, it doesn’t make a lick of sense.

Buck, still looking like a wet cat, goes, “He said it wasn’t the right thing for us.” His voice hitches and he moans, “He said it wasn’t s-smart.”

Hen and Chim shoot a look at each other. Eddie at this point is getting angry because what the fuck? Which is exactly what he says and Hen, the only one trying to be actually somewhat helpful, shakes her head like, “No, Eddie,” and then to Buck with what she hopes is a reassuring voice says, “Maybe he just doesn’t believe in the institution of marriage?”

Buck looks even more miserable at that and buries his face in his hands as he bemoans “Noooo,” and shakes his head like he’s grieving. “We t-talked about it before. At the beginning of our relationship, we both agreed we’d do that if it felt like the right time.” He slumps back on the couch like his life has just ended. “I t-thought it was the right time.”

Eddie, totally pissed off now because how are you gonna be with a guy for years, move in together, buy a house together, be committed to each other fully, and then say no to his marriage proposal, goes, “Oh fuck him. Do you want me to beat some sense into him?” Because damn, this is his best friend who looks absolutely crushed and Eddie will kick Tommy’s ass, fuck the fact that he’s really good at Muay Thai, he hasn’t seen Eddie’s wrath before.

Hen, still the sound of logic and seeing how Buck gets sadder each passing moment, stops him again. “We’re not beating anyone up.” Then says, “Buck, I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. Tommy loves you.” Because yeah he does in the most sickening teen boy with a puppy crush way, so none of this makes sense and Hen’s brain is whirring but she’s not sure what’s happening yet. “And you love Tommy.”

Buck, hands covering his face again moans into his palms, “I do.” Then his hands drop, and his face shot with panic and fear he goes, “Wait?! Does this mean we broke up?”

A pissed-off, disbelieving noise leaves Eddie; Chim shoots another look towards Hen’s way; Hen just gives an awkward unsure smile. “No. No.” She tries to reassure him. “Of course not.”

“I mean,” Chim says with a shrug. “I don’t see how a relationship comes back from that, you know?”

This gets Buck start crying again.

“You’re. Not. Being. Helpful. Chim.” Hen mutters.

Eddie jumps up, “Oh, I’m beating him up for you.”

Buck’s wails get louder.

It all devolves from there with Buck going between hollering and sniffling and Eddie dead-set on confronting Tommy and Hen trying to do damage control with “We’re just gonna talk to him,” and Chim continuing to be absolutely unhelpful with his comments about how Tommy is great, and so cool, and perfect, and he’d make a great brother-in-law, and this doesn’t make any sense.

So, the four of them somehow find themselves marching towards the Buckley-Kinard house with Eddie at the helm and Buck looking like a pathetic mess between them. They’ve barely entered the front yard when Tommy bursts out the front door with his phone in his hand and he goes, “Where have you been?! I’ve been calling you for hou—”

“I trusted you, man!” Eddie shouts, voice echoing through the street.

Tommy stops in his tracks. He takes in the sight of his friends who are all shooting him deadly (and confused) glares. Then he looks at his boyfriend and finds him avoiding his eyes, keeping his gaze at his feet like all the happiness has been sucked out of his entire universe. Brows furrowing in confusion, Tommy takes a step towards him. “Evan.” He tilts his chin up and sucks in a breath when he sees the tear tracks on Buck’s face. His own face crumbles, now in concern. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Eddie lets out a mirthless laugh. “Pretending you don’t know, huh?”

Tommy looks at him, at Chim, at Hen. “Don’t know what?”

“Oh, you’re a bigger asshole than I thought, Kinard.” Eddie spits in his face, his head shaking. “Acting like nothing’s wrong after saying no to a guy’s proposal so cruelly.”

Tommy freezes. His gaze snaps to Buck with a confused, “What?” but Buck is avoiding his eyes again. “What proposal?” Tommy asks. “Evan didn’t propose to me.”

At this point all tired and beaten Buck sighs, “It’s okay, Tommy.”

“No. No—” Tommy shakes his head. “What are you talking about?”

Buck shrugs. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

“Evan.”

Sighing again, Buck finally looks up. “Look, I get it. We can talk about it later.” He chews at his lip. “Right?” Because he’s still not sure if they’re broken up or not and god he really wishes they’re not because marriage is a dumb institution rooted in patriarchy to maintain and reinforce traditional gender roles and they didn’t even let two men marry till a decade ago, so it’s not like they need anyone’s acknowledgement and all he needs is Tommy, but also he had the absolute perfect ring picked out and he doesn’t know if he can get a refund on it, and calling Tommy his husband would be so fucking nice, and maybe he has been dreaming about that for the past however many years.

At this point, he’s tearing up again, so Tommy cups his face and brushes away some of the tears, before saying with the biggest gentlest eyes, “We can talk about anything you want. But… Baby, what proposal?”

Buck sniffles. “Earlier. W-when I asked you in the garage.”

Tommy frowns harder because that doesn’t make any sense. “You didn’t ask me to marry you, Evan.”

“Yes, I did, Tommy,” Buck huffs.

“No, you asked me if I wanted to take a vacation.”

“I think I know what I asked.”

“You said you wanted to go on a trip!”

“That’s not what I said!”

“Okay, you didn’t say trip! You said, you said something like if I wanted to take a new journey with you! Embark on adventure or something. You said you wanted a travel companion for a voyage!”

“Lifelong voyage.” Buck murmurs, lips pursing and arms crossing together. “For our grand adventure together.”

No one says anything for a minute as Buck avoids their eyes and scuffs his feet in the dirt.

At last, as the person with any semblance of intelligence Hen says, “Buck. Did you use any word related to marriage? Like “husband” or “marry” or even “matrimony”?” Her eyebrows rises. “Anything that’s not a metaphor?”

Buck, face red up to the hairline now, just shrugs. “I had a-a speech, okay? I was n-nervous and it was long so I had to paraphrase.”

Finally, Hen sighs, not unkindly.

Chim chuckles, kinda unkindly.

Eddie looks almost as embarrassed as Buck and murmurs, “Sorry, man,” to Tommy as the realization hits it was just his best friend being a huge dumbass and Tommy actually didn’t do anything to deserve a beating.

Tommy, his entire focus on his boyfriend and not paying them any attention, pulls Buck’s arms down and lifts his face up again. He gives him a smile. “I said no because I thought you were asking to go on a trip, Evan,” he says softly. “And that we’ve just got a mortgage together and can’t afford one.” He shakes his head. “I was covered in grease, Pearl Jam was playing in the background, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Still looking abashed but at least not snotty anymore, Buck says, “N-no. No. It’s my fault. I’m sorry, Tommy,” he says with a shrug.

Tommy smiles again. “It’s okay, baby.” For a moment, he rubs his boyfriend’s arms up and down, then says, “Sooo…”

Buck, realizing the faint pink on his boyfriend’s face, looks at him with the roundest eyes. “You mean…?”

“Well…” Tommy shrugs. “Are you gonna ask me for real or what?”

The sun dawns on Buck’s face. His eyes go bright with fresh but happier tears. “Yea-yeah.” He nods frantically. “Tommy. W-will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Tommy says. Buck pounces on him with a kiss that gets a surprised moan from him as Hen, Chimney, and Eddie start clapping and Buck cries again and so does Tommy and later that night, Buck gives him the perfect ring he had picked out and come Saturday they actually go to the greatest restaurant in LA and Tommy listens as Buck explains every step of his original proposal and all the metaphors he’s curated carefully for his speech.

The end.

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part fifteen

authors note: i hope everyone has recovered from the last chapter! just remember, there's, typically, light at the end of the tunnel!

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: violence, angst, language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 7k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns

Alexis is going to jail.

She’s accepted as such and doesn't really care about that as much as she's curious about what the charges will be. Aggravated assault. Attempted murder. Actual murder. It’s all up in the air, each a very much real possibility. 

Truth be told, she’s wanted to put the paws on Mariah for years. And not even because Mariah has done anything outright, not close to this level anyways. It was just something about her that screamed fake and inauthentic. However, she recognized what friendship and loyalty meant to you, and while you’d mentioned a few arguments over the years, nothing was major enough for her to act on her violent urges.

Now though? 

Now, she’s ready to rain fire. 

She doesn’t give a flying fuck about traffic laws, well exceeding every speed limit she zooms through in order to make it to Mariah’s house. It’s an address that wasn’t too hard to find. Google is such a wonderful thing. She would have asked you for that information, but she also wants you as separate from what she’s about to do as possible. Especially with DCFS in the midst of an active investigation.

Just thinking about it pisses her off even more. It’s one thing to call DCFS on someone who’s arguably one of the best parents on this fucking earth, but it’s another to accuse said parents of the things Mariah accused you. 

It’s unforgivable. 

It’s also why Alexis won’t feel somewhat content until she spills Mariah’s blood. Pulling up into the driveway behind the parked Camry, Alexis shuts off the car, reaches for the bat in the passenger seat and slams the door behind her as she marches up the three steps to the front door. Her fists immediately start banging on the door. “Open the door, hoe!” More banging. “I know you in there! Come outside so I can crack ya’ fucking head open!”

Alexis isn’t stupid. She knows no one with common sense would open the door to anyone yelling such things. Cue: the bat. 

Moving across the porch, Alexis doesn’t hesitate to give a solid swing to the window, effectively cracking it. The second blow is the one, however, that shatters it. She kicks through the remnants and proceeds to climb in. 

With a possible element of surprise, Alexis opts to remain quiet, looking around the living room. She’s tempted to smash the TV but decides against it, as she’d much rather save her strength for blows against Mariah’s body.

Moving throughout the house, she’s lucky enough for the first door she kicks open to reveal her victim. 

But Mariah isn’t alone.

In a pleasant surprise. Alexis just so happens to walk in on Mariah receiving backshots from a man who quickly stumbles and looks back over his shoulder at her entrance. Alexis immediately recognizes him. 

Amir.

“Now ain’t this about a bitch!” Alexis' smile is wild and crazed as she watches Amir stumble to cover himself, Mariah’s eyes also wide with horror and shock as she holds the sheet to her chest. “A two for one special. My lucky fucking day.”

“What the hell?” Amir has managed to pull his boxers on and is standing near the bed, close to Mariah in an almost protective manner. Like that’ll keep her safe from Alexis' wrath. “Alexis? What the fuck are you doing?”

“I would ask ya’ll niggas the same thing, but ain’t no sense in stating the obvious.” She motions between the two of them with her steel bat. “How long?”

Mariah screams, the fear in her voice and eyes music to Alexis soul. “Get out of my house!”

“Oh, Imma leave, but not until you’re unconscious.” She looks toward Amir. “And if you try to get in my way, Imma knock your ass out too.” Alexis' hands are rated E for everyone. She fights females and males with equal smoke. “Now, I’m not gon’ ask again, how long have ya’ll been fucking behind Y/N’s back?”

Truth be told, Alexis wouldn’t trust a single word out of either of their mouths, but she’s curious. The answer regardless will aid in the intensity of her beating. 

Amir is the first to ‘answer’. “I don’t owe Y/N shit. She’s not my girl.” As if he has a right to be upset, he continues, anger painting his face. “I tried, but she chose to be with that nigga.” 

“And will every single mother fucking time because unlike you, he’s actually worth something and deserves her. Not like you two snakes.” It’s the fact that Amir thinks that he’s been done wrong in some way that blows her mind. He might be as delusional as the bitch he was just fucking. “I’m tired of talking. Get the fuck out my way, so I can knock this hoe’s head off.”

It’s when Alexis takes a step toward the bed that Amir extends his arm out, “wait, before you do this—”

“Do you even know what she did?” Alexis demands, grip on the bat tightening as she remembers holding you as you cried into her over having your child ripped away from you. The fear in Callie’s eyes. It enrages her all over again. “Ask the bitch! Go on, ask her!”

Amir is still understandably cautious and pissed at this intrusion, but his gaze still falls on Mariah. “What is she talking about?”

Mariah pauses and shakes her head, stuttering. “I–I don’t know. She’s–she’s crazy.”

“She’s a liar!” Alexis shouts, explaining to Amir. “She called DCFS on Y/N and made up all kind of lies!” She juggs the bat in the direction of that slime. “They took Callie away from Y/N because of her!”

It seems like there’s a sudden shift that Alexis recognizes as the tide gradually turning. She still thinks Amir is a piece of shit, but it does count for a tiny something that he looks absolutely disgusted by this revelation. His eyes narrow at Mariah. “You did what?” Mariah’s face gives away her guilt as he demands, “what the hell is wrong with you? Why would you do that!”

Clearly adept at deviating, Mariah attempts to redirect the focus. “You really gon’ believe this bitch over me!” 

Alexis laughs, throwing her head back. She’s really going to enjoy breaking this bitch jaw.

Amir seems heated now. Again, not that Alexis really cares. He’s not much better than this hoe in her book. “You got her child taken away from her, Mariah! What part of that do you not understand is fucked up! You’ve gone too fucking far!”

“If Callie got taken away, then she should have been doing a better job making sure her kid was straight instead of chasing a married around like a desperate who—”

Alexis lunges, literally lunges, across the room before Mariah can even finish her sentence. There’s a sickening crack that enters the air when her fist collides with Mariah’s nose. Mariah’s cry is sounded out by Alexis snatching her by her hair and banging her head into the headboard. “Say it, bitch! Say it so I can knock ya fucking teeth out your mouth.”

“Get off me!” Mariah screams, but it’s no use, Alexis blows are powerful and focused, knuckles burning from the impact with bone, not that it makes a difference to her. She’s only seeing and hearing red.

“I been wanted to stomp your hoe ass!” And Alexis does just that, dragging and tossing Mariah onto the floor and stomping her feet into Mariah’s side. 

Mariah is crying like a little bitch, screaming, “help me!” 

But Amir does nothing, just stands there watching as Alexis rains blow on top of blow, kick on top of kick to the broad he was just balls deep in minutes ago. It speaks volumes of his character, not that that was much to behold anyway.

However, it’s when she cries out again, “we got a fucking son together, Amir!”

This actually takes Alexis by surprise as she realizes what Mariah just said. She knows the bitch has a son, but she also knows this woman is married. Though estranged, still married. Is…..is Amir the biological father of her son? Has she really been messing with Amir long enough for him to possibly father her baby?

Is that why she’s estranged from her husband?

That’s a whole other layer that adds to the betrayal. Alexis starts mixing on Mariah again, ignoring the splatter of blood on her fists and the possibility that her child might be just a room or two away.

At least she still has her kid. 

“That’s enough.” Amir’s voice finally sounds from behind her, but Alexis is in the zone. She’s not letting up off this hoe. “Alexis, that’s enough!” And then he makes the cardinal mistake of trying to interfere, reaching to pull her off Mariah. Instantly, Alexis reaches behind and lands her fist against his face.

“Fuck!” He calls out. Alexis grabs the bat, swinging it across his knee. Amir cries out and falls on his back, cradling his knee. “You crazy bitch!”

“That’s right, I’m the crazy bitch that’s gon come back and fuck both ya’ll asses up again if you ever in your life try Y/N!” Alexis realizes Mariah is on the verge of losing consciousness, so she ensures she grabs her by her raggedy tracks. “You stay the hell away from her, you hear me? You even so much as utter her name, utter Callie’s name, and I’mma put you six feet under!” A final stomp to Mariah’s jaw is the last thing she sees before being knocked unconscious. 

Breathing heavy, Alexis looks around, pleased with her carnage only to see Amir starting to stand up, knee obviously fucked up. “I didn’t—I didn’t know.”

Alexis marches over to him and punches him square in his nose, satisfied with the crunch sound that follows. He curses loudly, hands over his nose that’s started to spurt out blood. 

“Bitch ass nigga,” she mutters, taking one final survey of the room and walking out, pleased with the results. She suddenly feels so much better, hungry but deeply satisfied. Curious, she asks a groaning Amir.

“Ya’ll got a McDonald’s in this town?”

—---------

The knock on the door is probably the first thing to make you feel anything in hours. You’ve just laid on the bed all day, staring at the empty wall across the room. The apartment is quiet. It’s never quiet. 

Not since you first brought Callie home from the hospital. You miss her giggles, her loud singing, the patterning of her feet as she runs into your room, jumping on the bed, rambling about the most random of things.

You wished that her being with your mom and not some random family would provide more comfort than it does, but as soon as you try to find some relief in that, your mind goes towards why she’s with your mom and the fact that you are legally barred from speaking to and interacting with the child you birthed and have raised since she first entered this world.

That’s when the tears come. You’re not sure there’s many left to be honest.

So, a knock on the door is the closest thing you have to hope, hope that someway, somehow, someone with enough pull was able to make all of this go away, make this nightmare of a reality a thing of fiction. 

Running to the front door, that hope is both dashed yet sustained when you rip it open. 

Turns out you’re wrong, there are definitely more tears left.

“Joe…”

You’re not sure who makes the move first, probably him, because the moment his eyes land on you, his expression softens into something sympathetic. 

He’s holding the back of your head as you cry into his chest, comforting you. And then it hits you. You pull away, holding onto his shirt, “did you see her? H-how is she?”

You made sure to emphasize that Joe needed to check in on Callie before coming to see you, not that it was something he needed to be told. You’re certain his first and foremost priority was checking in on Callie. 

He wipes at your eyes. “She’s okay.” It’s a safe answer, one that’s probably both partially and impartially true. How okay can she be in a situation like this? His response is more for your comfort than anything, you’re sure. “I got her down for bed before I left.” His eyes give you a one over. “When’s the last time you ate something?”

You’re certain you must look a mess. You also don’t care about that. You don’t really care about much to be honest. 

Still, it’s a valid question that takes you a second to contemplate. “I–I don’t know.” And before he can say something further, you inform, “I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat something.”

“No, I–what I need is to start getting this place together.” Pulling away from him, sniffling and wiping at your eyes, you motion around your apartment. “They’re doing the home inspection tomorrow.”

In between tears and depression, you’d received formal notice regarding the home visit where they’d evaluate the environment to ensure its appropriateness for a child as well as your emergency court date. 

Joe’s gaze is on you and lazily scans the room that’s more or less spotless. “It looks fine, Y/N.”

“Fine isn’t good enough, Joe,” your voice is firmer, a hint of irritation. “It has to be perfect so they can—” Without even realizing what’s happening, another unexpected set of tears arrives, your voice cracking. “—so they can give my baby back to me.”

He guides you back into his chest, comforting you as the next set of waterworks overcomes you. You’ve always hated crying, always found it irritating because it was hard to control, even harder to stop. This is all of those things. 

“I can’t believe she would—would do this to me.” That’s the part you still can’t wrap around. How could you not see what kind of person Mariah was? You’ve always thought you were a good judge of character. This was Callie’s legal godmother for fucks sake. “Do you know what she said about me? What she said I was going to do—” Your mouth watering and stomach twisting alerts you to what’s about to come, and you dash away from him to the bathroom where you fall to your knees, vomiting into the toilet. 

Joe is behind you not even minutes later, hand on the small of your back as you cry over that same toilet. There’s a level of appreciation for him being here with you in this moment, but it still doesn’t wholly ease that dull ache in your chest. 

Getting cleaned up, Joe doesn’t take no for an answer when he says that he’s going to make you something to eat and you’re going to eat. Deep down, you know he’s right. Not only are you teetering on sleep deprivation, but the lack of food in your system is eventually going to take a toll. And you need to be at your absolute best the next few days. 

However, even with his delicious cooking and emotional support, it’s not enough to keep your emotions at bay because you end up right back at that toilet, depositing everything you just tried to consume.

You just feel so off, so incomplete, because you are. 

Because you don’t know you’re supposed to proceed without your child. How you’re supposed to proceed and act like your world hasn’t been turned upside down, like you’re not in a position where you have to prove that you’re a fit parent. 

Something you could have never imagined you’d be having to prove. This whole situation, nightmare, has pushed you so much farther in the direction of wanting to move.

Mariah’s play has stolen your sense of security in this town, the place you’ve always called home. It feels like you’ll never be able to feel comfortable again so long as she’s also a resident. Blocking her on all platforms isn’t enough. You don’t want her to have any access to you or Callie whatsoever.

And that can only be done with moving. 

A small part of you considers talking with Joe about you and Callie staying at his place in Florida for the time being until you find a house. And you hate that, the idea of uprooting your and Callie’s life so suddenly. Not even being able to stay until the end of the school year, not being able to give your students the proper time to transition and adjust to your departure.

But you have to think about your family, your child, and what’s best for her.

It's starting to become more and more clear that the best thing you can do at this point is leave.

If not the only thing. ________

“She finally sleep?”

After treating herself to McDonalds, Alexis casually reached out to her legal team to let them know she could be facing a couple of charges and to be ready to bail her out once the warrant was issued. They were already fast ahead in working towards a plan to get said charges dismissed, so she's honestly not concerned at all.

And even if they aren’t dismissed, she doesn't mind. 

She’d do it all over again if she had to. 

So, after getting cleaned up and settling her affairs, she headed back over to the apartment to check on you. Alexis wasn’t surprised to find you still heavily upset, but the physical sickness was hard to watch. She’s so grateful that you listened to her and called Joe. She can’t imagine you going through this without his support.

“I got her to agree to take Benadryl.” Joe’s eyes are focused on the island as he sits down at the barstool and leans back. Alexis hasn’t been around Joe a ton, but that’s not needed to tell he’s a myriad of emotions right now, primarily anger. He adds, clearly concerned, “she can’t keep anything down.”

“She’s a wreck,” Alexis says as kindly as she can, because it’s the ugly truth. She’s always known you to be so calm and composed. This is anything but. Yes, there were a couple moments where you lost your temper. But post Callie? You’ve been the textbook definition of what it looks like to be a picture of calmness in a storm. 

Now….now you’re just a disaster.

Not that a single soul could blame you.

“How is Callie? Like, really?” Alexis isn’t sure if asking him this right now is the right move, but she’s genuinely curious. She’d take a bet that he played it down for the sake of your current mental state.

“Confused. Sad as hell. Doesn’t know why the fuck she’s just been ripped from her mother for no reason.” His anger is palpable and completely understandable. 

Alexis listens, working to control her own anger. Mariah’s beating wasn’t good enough. “It’s fucked up. That’s for sure.”

His jaw is clenched as she states, boldly, “I’ve gotta get them out of this damn town.” 

Alexis looks at him, partially not following his statement. “Aren’t they already moving to live with you?

“Yes, at the end of the summer, but that’s not soon enough.” She hears what he’s saying, but she isn’t quite sure about the realistic aspect of what he clearly wants at this point. “I need them out of here now.”

Alexis takes a second before responding, not wanting to further upset him. Typically, she doesn’t give two shits about how her words are perceived, but this is an entirely different situation. “You’re not wrong, Joe, but Y/N can’t just up and leave—”

“We don’t have much of a fucking choice, Alexis.” His tone, if not for the current circumstances, would be completely unacceptable. He’s talking to her like she’s a child, but Alexis knows emotions are high, so she sets aside her pride. “I don’t want that bitch anywhere near them.” 

Careful with her words, she counters calmly, “you know there’s a chance Y/N's not going to like that.” 

Alexis knows you, and knows that you like order. You’d want to properly close out the year, have time to say goodbye. Then again, after something like this, she’s not actually 100% sure where you’d stand on moving sooner than initially planned.

Joe then brings up a valid point. “It’s not about what she likes and doesn’t like. It’s about Calista and what’s best for her.” He’s not wrong, Alexis won’t deny him that. “Mariah is fucking psychotic, and I’m not taking any more chances with her pulling anymore shit like this. I’ve already contacted my lawyers to see what options we have there.”

Joe lawyering up makes all the sense in the world. It’s probably the smartest decision for him and Y/N, which is why she’s so grateful she stopped you from catching an unnecessary charge. “I can beat her ass again once she gets released from the hospital. It was quite therapeutic actually.” Alexis is slightly pleased to hear Joe chuckle at her words, even if she’s being completely honest. “I’ll tell you this, but don’t tell Y/N. She’s got enough she’s dealing with.” 

Joe is quick to assert. “I don’t like keeping things from her.”

Ignoring his counter, Alexis supplies, “Mariah was fucking Amir when I got there. Like, I literally caught them in bed.” 

As expected, Joe looks taken back, “what?”

She nods and adds, “but that’s not it. When the stupid bitch was begging for him to help her, she said they have a son together.” Lowering her voice in case you somehow fought the powers of Benadryl, she concludes, “I think Amir is the biological father of her kid,”

“Son of a bitch,” he mutters. Joe is suddenly wishing he acted upon impulse instead of logic and beat the shit out of Amir that night he had the chance. That bastard really was a scumbag. He’s also partially wishing he’d tagged along with Mariah. Joe would never put his hands on a woman, but Amir? He’d be laid out in the hospital just like Mariah is. “Just how long have they been messing around?”

“Long enough for her to get knocked up by him.” She shakes her head, trying to settle the growing anger. “God, I hate her ass. Him too, but definitely her. How do you just fuck your best friend’s ex like that? When you know she’s fucking him too? Fuckin nasty ass hoe.” 

He won’t disagree, sharing, “you probably already know this, but Mariah used to mess with Randy Orton, and he'd said she ended up being clingy and crazy when he broke it off.” 

“Really?” Alexis remembers you mentioning to her that Mariah was sleeping with a wrestler around the same time you first got with Joe but nothing about how it ended. “That lines up.”

“I never really paid much attention to it, because she wasn’t relevant to me, and Orton was an ass back in the day, so I took it with a grain of salt.” A heavy frown appears on his handsome face. “Clearly, that was a mistake.”

Realizing what’s happening, she shakes her head. “Oh my god. Not you too.” She jumps into her therapist mode, nearly repeating exactly what she’d said to you this morning. “This is no one’s fault except for Mariah. Not yours. Not Y/N’s, just that raggedy hoe.” 

Joe tries his best to heed to Alexis’s advice. “You’ve never liked her, right?” Alexis nods aggressively. “Why?” 

“I always felt like she was jealous of Y/N. Like….she benefited way more from her friendship with Y/N than Y/N did. When we were in college, Y/N was popular and well liked, and I get the sense that that’s always been the case. Mariah clearly benefited from that, so the jealousy wasn’t as bad, not enough for Y/N to notice it anyway.” Alexis starts to speculate, though she feels it’s more fact than hypothesis. “But then you come back in the picture, and the tide turns. Y/N gets the guy, the kid, the happy family. And then on top of all that, homegirl finally gets exposed, so Y/N, rightfully, cuts her off. But psycho-riah wasn’t having that.”

Laying it all out like that makes sense to both Joe and Alexis. It’s obvious Mariah is disturbed, because only a person not right in the head would do what she’s done. All of the things she’s done. But maybe it never got this bad because she and Y/N were always around the same level, both living in this small ass town, just raising their kids. 

Then he came in the picture, and she got jealous. 

It makes sense.

It also pisses him the fuck off. 

“This probably isn’t the right time to ask this, but I’m gonna do it anyway, because you never know when my warrant is gonna become active.” There’s such a casualness and nonchalant manner regarding how Alexis refers to her pending arrest, like it’s not that big a deal. And for her, it really isn’t. She knows her lawyers will most likely have her out on bond and charges dropped or dismissed by the end of the week. Hence her prying. “But just when in the hell do you plan to propose to Y/N?”

It’s definitely a 180 in topics that Joe wasn’t expecting, especially when she continues.

“I know it’s gotta be coming soon, because it’s obvious you love the mess out of her and want to be with her forever, but when, sir? Don’t be having my girl out here as a glorified girlfriend for too long, cause I don’t care how big you are, you can catch that Mariah Edition beating right along with her.” Joe smiles, shaking his head. It’s a much needed break from all the heaviness of the day. “And you best not get her knocked up again before it happens.” She considers her words and retracts. “Then again, ya’ll both freaky as hell and fuck like rabbits, so maybe that one is a stretch.”

With a casual shrug, Joe goes for his response. “Who says I don’t al—”

“Wait. Don’t say anything.” She interrupts, hands up as if remembering something. “I suck at keeping secrets, and I’m sure you’re gonna go all out for the proposal, so don’t tell me shit.” She nods, as if trying to convince herself that this is the safest and best route. “Just make sure I get an invite to the wedding. Then again, I’ll just show up anyway regardless.”

He has zero doubt she won’t.

But while Alexis' random tangent brings about brief relief, his mind easily switches back to the major issue at hand. 

“You know I’m right, Lex.” He looks at her, again reiterating, “they can’t stay here.” It’s in expressing her theory about Mariah aloud that helps Alexis realize Joe’s even more valid in his stance than she thought. “I can’t have this happen again. Y/N and Callie can’t have this happen again especially. They’re both a mess.” He looks down, jaw clenching. “I can’t see them go through this again.” 

There’s no desire or basis to argue. Alexis can’t imagine how difficult this must be for him as well. To see all this happening, to see the two people he loves the most be in pain and not be able to do anything about it. 

It’s gotta be torture.

She finally settles on a simple, basic answer. “You’re right.”

Joe is quiet for a few moments, expression indicating he’s searching and trying to navigate something. Alexis watches as he suddenly pulls out his phone, typing hurriedly. She figures he's sending a text to someone when he finally says, “I need you to do something for me.”

There’s not a second of hesitation. “Consider it done.”

“Good.” He doesn’t waste any time, recognizing every moment that passes is precious. “How quickly can you get a flight out to Florida?”

________

Before agreeing to take the tiny pink pill of sleep damnation, you made Joe promise to wake you up at 7am sharp. The home inspection was scheduled for 3pm, but you have something you need to do before then.

And Joe is true to his word, stirring you awake not a minute past 7.

Despite his protest and disagreement, you skip breakfast. It’s going on two days since you’ve actually had and retained a meal, but you can’t bring yourself to do so, your abs already sore from all the contractions that come with vomiting.

So, you settle on coffee and get to cleaning. Joe helps you, though there’s not much to be done, just little things that the average person wouldn’t pay much attention to. But, you’re not taking any risks. Your place needs to be as spotless as humanly possible. 

And you need to look as good as you can, so you spend much more time than necessary in the shower, scrubbing your body clean, shaving every piece of hair that doesn’t need to be there. All very much over the top, but you don’t care. You need to feel prepared. 

You even take on the daunting task of laying your mass of curls into a slick top bun. In your opinion, it’s always made you look ten times more professional. Even if it does take ten times as long to accomplish because of all your hair. 

Still, worth it. Everything is worth it if it means having your daughter back in your custody. 

It’s why you dig through your closet for the nicest set of business professional attire that you own, some nice dress pants and a white blouse that beautifully compliments your complexion. 

The top has always been a little snug around your chest, which is expected, even if feeling a little tighter than usual.

What you don’t expect or need is to slide on said pants only to find out you can’t get them to snap. Even the jump and wiggle to better adjust it over your ass and thighs isn’t enough to secure the button.

You stand there for a moment, only briefly stumped. You’re realizing that one of your earlier assumptions before this whole mess was correct.

You’ve put on weight.

It was something you first started to notice when you looked again at the post Alexis made of you on your Instagram. You could see it a little in your face, but mostly your ass and thighs. Thankfully, you’ve always typically carried your weight in all the right places. And it isn’t anything too crazy, maybe something only you notice because you know your body better than anyone.

But, it’s enough to where your go-to pants no longer fit. 

It’s not too concerning, especially with everything else you have going on. You’ve always yo-yo’d a bit with your weight and interestingly enough, the same happened in the months after your first meeting with Joe all those years ago.

“Happy weight,” you’re sure Alexis would call it. 

Sliding them off, you settle on another pair, close to your favorites and a size bigger. They snap closed, and that little thing makes you feel instantly relieved.

It’s another thirty minutes before you finally exit the bedroom, face beat in neutral yet professional makeup. Joe moves from where he was texting on the sofa and approaches you.

Concern is etched in the crinkles around his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you?”

“No. I—I got this. Go—go spend the day with Callie.” Because I’d do anything to be able to do just that. “You probably shouldn’t even be here around me.”

It’s partially true. Joe isn’t even on Callie’s birth certificate, so as far as the law is concerned, you’re the only parent under investigation. Still, the irrational fear is strong that they’ll find some reason to add him to the investigation if they find out he’s been interacting with both you and Callie.

You can’t even think about what hell it would be if Joe was also barred from having any engagement with Callie.

You couldn’t handle it. Callie couldn’t handle it. And Joe wouldn’t stand for it. You know that for certain. He wouldn’t give a damn what the law stated.

“Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.” His dismissal is swift and firm. You have a feeling there isn’t a force on earth that could keep him from being with you right now. From being around Callie. “Are you sure you don’t want to try to eat something?”

Shaking your head, you explain. “No. I can’t risk vomiting again. I drank some Gatorade. I’ll be fine.” You don’t have a choice. Voice softening, you apologize again. “I’m so sorry about all of this. I had no idea she could ever—“

He stops you before you can get choked up. Joe's hands are on your face, comforting, “none of this is your fault, and I don’t blame you for anything. None of it.” His thumb brushes softly against your cheek. “But….but I do think we need to discuss moving up the move date for you and Callie.”

“I know.” You're certain he expected more of a push back from you, some level of argument, but he won’t find it. Mariah has taken that right away from you. “We—we can talk about it more later, okay?”

Understandably, he’s pleased and brings his hand to your hip, giving a gentle squeeze. “You should get going.” He’s right. The sooner you tackle this, the sooner you can focus on nailing this visitation. 

He kisses your forehead, lips lingering as he murmurs, “I love you.”

You’ll never get tired of hearing those words leave his mouth, needing to hear them now more than ever. You’re so grateful for him and all he does. “I love you too.”

You’re grabbing your purse and keys off the key holder on the wall when he calls out your name. 

“Mariah didn’t say anything to you before this, right? Outside of the exchange that day you told me about?” His question takes you by surprise, and he adds, probably not wanting you to feel like you’re on the witness stand. “My lawyers want to know if we can establish a paper trail.”

He’d mentioned reaching out to his legal team to see what recourse was available, but it isn’t something you’re overtly thrilled about. You understand where he’s coming from, but that’s not a route you’re sure you want to go down. Legal battles, from what you know, can get really ugly. And there’s a massive fear that somehow Callie will get dragged into the mess, forced to answer to lawyers and judges.

Your baby’s been traumatized enough already.

It’s why you decide on an answer that’s not the truth, but what you feel is best for your daughter. Once this is all said and done, you just want to put this all behind you and focus on your family.

Besides, there’s nothing else Mariah can do at this point, no lower she can stoop.

“No.” Even as it leaves your mouth, there’s a deep, nagging feeling that you’ve made the wrong decision not being honest with him. “She never said anything.”

—---------

“Is Dr. Sawyer available?”

Your voice is strong, firm, the exact opposite of everything you’ve felt over the past 48 hours. It’s a great display of fake confidence. 

The receptionist looks up with a surprisingly friendly smile. “I’m sorry, do you have an appointment or—”

“I’m an old friend. I really need to talk to him. It’s, uhh, it’s an emergency.” It may be a bit of a stretch to call your desire to get some questions answered an emergency, but you’ll say and do whatever it takes to get Kai’s attention. “Tell him it’s Y/N.”

She asks you to give her a few minutes, and you decide to take a seat in the waiting area. Pulling out your phone, you text Joe to let him know you’ve made it here and ready to text your mom when you suddenly remember.

That’s been the other hard part of this debacle. Going through one of the hardest things you’ve ever endured and not being able to talk to your mom about it. If you had to choose between her guidance and your daughter being put under her care, you’d go with the latter every single time.

But that doesn’t take way the sadness you have at not being able to talk to your own mother. 

“Y/N?”

Lifting your attention form your phone, you’re met with Kai Sawyer’s signature smile. 

He looks both surprised and relieved to see you.

“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you—”

“No. Not a bother at all.” He sits down on the seat opposite of you, and given the only couple people in the ER are on the other side of the waiting room, you decide this is a safe place to talk. “I’m actually happy to see you Y/N.”

There’s something wary about his tone of voice, like he’s hinting at something he won’t outright say. That’s when you remember the sole reason Kai was even inserted into your life again, and it hits you. “DCFS spoke to you, didn’t they?”

It makes all the sense. Callie was rushed to the emergency room and had to undergo emergency surgery. You’re certain her medical records are also being reviewed, that kind of incident standing out to investigators.

Kai might be aware of the anxiety that’s starting to grow and proceeds to explain. “Yes, and I told them it was absolute bullshit.” His face takes on a look of disgust and irritation. “That it’s been years since I’ve seen a child so deeply connected and bonded with a parent like I saw with you and Callie. Her appendicitis and subsequent surgery was completely happenstance, and you did everything right.”

His words bring tears to your eyes. You know you’re a good mom and did the best you could that night, but it means a lot that Kai would defend you so staunchly who are trying to determine just that. “Thank you, Kai.”

“I didn’t say anything that was a lie.” His expression is sympathetic. “I’m really sorry this is happening to you, Y/N. Do you have any idea who made the call?”

“That’s actually why I’m here.” You blot at your eyes, not wanting to test the hold of this waterproof mascara. “Do you remember when you told me you were happy I got away from Mariah and Amir?”

“Yeah, why?” His eyes widen with shock. “Wait, did they—“

“It was Mariah.” Swallowing, there’s a bit of an edge in your voice as you explain. “That’s why I’m here. I need to know just who the hell I’ve called a best friend all these years, so much so that I made her Callie’s legal godmother.”

“Whoa, I thought—-you were still friends with her after all these years?” You shake your head yes, and he looks truly apologetic. “I’m sorry, I just thought—”

“That I’d been smarter? Yeah, me too.” Aside from depression and apathy, you’re struggling with beating yourself up for not recognizing sooner what kind of person Mariah truly is. How your oblivion could be strong. “Please, tell me what you know.”

He blows out a deep breath and leans back into the chair. “Well, I mean there’s no easy way to say this, but Mariah and Amir have been messing around since we were in high school.”

Your stomach drops. 

That’s…..that’s not what you were expecting to hear.

In a whispered, pained voice, you ask, “what?”

He sighs and runs his hand over his face. “I don’t mean to get too personal, but I know it started around the time Amir was trying to pressure you into sleeping with him.” If not for the nature of the conversation, you’d find it a little adorable how he’s obviously trying his best to remain respectful. Kai has always been a genuinely decent guy. “He would constantly complain about you not ‘putting out’ around the locker room and during practice. And once he started hooking up with Mariah, he’d always brag about sleeping with the both of you.”

There’s so much to digest here. You’d figured Mariah and Amir were messing around after his slip around Christmas, but you figured it was a recent development. Now, you’re hearing that the girl you’ve considered a sister almost your whole life has been sleeping with the boy you once thought you loved from the very beginning?

“The times you couldn’t make it to parties, they’d be all over each other, but no one said anything because—”

“Because it was Amir,” you finish for him with a whisper. “He was the king of the school. No one would snitch on him, especially not his teammates.” You’re very familiar with the hierarchy and patriarchy of high school. You were the queen, just as much as he was the king, and everyone knew that you and Amir were always back and forth. They probably figured that you knew, or maybe they didn’t. You’re not so worried or stunned by just how many people knew and didn’t say anything. It doesn’t matter at this point.

What matters is that Mariah has always been a snake, a snake you brought around your child.

The child she got taken from you.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t say anything either—”

“No, don’t. You didn’t owe me anything.” It’s the two people who claimed to love and care about you who should have been honest. “I should apologize to you for dragging you into that bullshit. I’m really sorry, Kai. You didn’t deserve that.”

“We were kids, Y/N. Didn’t know any better.” Kai is clearly as uninterested in an apology from you as you are from him. “I’m sorry if this is too personal, but are you and Amir still….”

“No.” Just the thought alone nearly has you back to retching into the nearest toilet. “We were on and off friends with benefits since, well, high school. Outside of when I was with Callie’s dad for three years, but now Joe and I are back together. Have been for months.” There’s a small hint of excitement, the first non-sad emotion you’ve experienced in the past two days as you inform, “Callie and I will be moving to Florida to live with him.”

“Good.” Kai seems genuinely happy and pleased to hear this. “Hell, as a man, I can imagine he’d get you both on a plane out of here today if he could.” A small, sad chuckle leaves your mouth at his words. He’s probably not wrong. “You should have been left this place, Y/N. You deserve better. Always did. Get out of here and have a fresh start.”

The encouragement isn’t required but deeply appreciated. His openness and honesty provide you with a slither of relief. The information shared is something you’ll have to process at a later date and time, but it does answer some necessary questions you needed answered.

There’s no doubt in your mind at this point that leaving is absolutely what you need to do.

You just need to get through this nightmare first.

[mal3vol3nt]

I think ZKs really exaggerated Zuko and Katara’s relationship, and this is coming from a guy who actually really likes Zuko and Katara’s relationship, just not a ship (it’s not as toxic as some say, by the end of the show at least).

Isaw this one post about how Zuko and Katara have the most intimate relationship of The Gaang. How he’s the only one who supports her, understands her and validates her anger. Whereas Zuko is the only one Katara doesn’t have to look after, the only one she can depend on emotionally, the only one who she’s sees as an equal and matches her maturity.

I question this, because when did we see this in the show? Besides like 3 instances. ZKs act like Katara was never supported by Aang (or the others). I’m sure that everything they say Zuko does for Katara, Aang does for her and more. Everything Katara supposedly has in Zuko, she already has in Aang. I could list all of this, but this is already running long as it is.

What do you think?

This the full post: https://www.tumblr.com/theotterpenguin/738115696097116160/thinking-about-how-katara-is-the-only-person-zuko?source=share

not only are they exaggerating the depth of katara and zuko’s relationship, but they’re underplaying the depth of her relationship with literally everyone else. like they undermine how much all her friends mean to her by saying the guy she was on good terms with for like 4 episodes immediately became her closest companion and confidant

the only time we see zuko offer her support of any kind is during the southern raiders episode where he’s encouraging her to go kill the guy who murdered her mother. and he’s not doing it because he genuinely wants to be a supportive figure for her, but because he thinks this is what’ll get her to finally forgive him and stop treating him so coldly. and then the episode ends with him admitting that he was wrong in terms of what she needed—not violent revenge but the chance to let her anger out without compromising her morals in blind rage. other than that, we don’t see him act as a shoulder for her to lean on, and the one instance we do see him act that way, he’s bad at it and ends up realizing there are ways other than violence to move on from internalized anger

and sure you can argue that zuko still gave her the chance to confront yon rha even if she chose not to kill him like he encouraged her to, and that inandof itself is an act of emotional support, but the reality is he did that to get on her good side rather than to be a genuine friend. had she already been friendly to him, would he have ever brought up that he knows who killed kya? would he have even asked sokka about the day their mom died to get that information? in the show he only does this because he can’t fathom why katara is still mad at him when everyone else has already forgiven him. he wanted to speed up her process of forgiving him, so had she already forgiven him and they were friends, i doubt the whole “i can help you avenge your mother” convo would have ever happened because it wouldn’t have served him to do so. and in my opinion, any support that has ulterior motives and an end goal isn’t genuine support

but compare this to aang and sokka. we see these two go out of their way for her countless times throughout the three books, which makes sense considering the three of them are the ogs and went through everything together (incoming really long list lmao)

aang offers to take katara to the northern water tribe so she can learn waterbending under a master after knowing her for only a few hours at most. he also does this after she expresses her upset at being the only southern waterbender left. “katara! we’re going to find you a master!”

aang gives himself over to zuko and his fire nation crew to save katara and sokka’s village

aang completes all of bumi’s challenges to save katara and sokka

aang credits katara for haru’s sudden bravery in saving that old man. “wow you must have really inspired him”

aang and sokka willingly (and eagerly) participate in her plan to get arrested for earthbending

sokka comes up with the plan to get coal to the earthbenders so they can find motivation again, something that katara is very passionate about, thus showing his support in her goal

aang and sokka help fight the fire nation guards that are keeping the earthbenders prisoner, aiding in katara’s goal of helping them help themselves

aang weaves katara a brand new necklace after she had her mother’s stolen. this makes her smile

aang is quick to reassure katara when she begins to show signs of self-doubt at aang’s natural waterbending talent. “well you had to learn all on your own. i’m lucky enough to have a great teacher”

aang refers to katara as a waterbender, something that clearly means so much to her after she spent the whole episode insecure of her abilities

sokka steals the waterbending scroll for katara and aang to learn from

aang travels alone in search of medicine for katara and sokka, all while an entire nation is hunting him down with the intent to torture him to the brink of death, thus risking his life for their safety

sokka tackles aang after hearing katara’s cries of pain when he accidentally burns her. despite knowing and caring for aang, sokka can’t stand the thought of someone hurting katara even if unintentionally, especially with fire

aang explicitly states he will never firebend again after accidentally hurting her. he too can’t stand the thought of her in pain and hates that he was the one who hurt her (this is also him taking ownership of his mistake and punishing himself—for those of you who think he is never held accountable for his mistakes)

aang refuses to learn under pakku when he rejects katara and only lets up when katara tells him he needs to take this chance to learn waterbending

sokka is the one to suggest that aang teach katara everything pakku is teaching him, and aang loves this idea

aang cheers for her when she fights pakku. “go katara!”

the general is only able to trigger aang into the avatar state after he is made to believe that katara was buried alive, showcasing once again how much he cares about her safety

aang pushes katara out of the way of falling rocks when the aftermath of appa getting burned causes the tunnel to cave in

aang refers to katara as ‘sifu’ after she made an offhand comment about him never calling her that. this makes her smile

aang turns away from cosmic power immediately after he sees a vision of katara in danger

aang lets her go so he can unlock all his chakras and save katara from impending doom against azula, zuko, and the dai li

aang eagerly participates in katara’s plan to perform ecoterrorism and calls her a hero

aang also eagerly participates in helping her scare off the fire nation general as the painted lady. sokka participates as well because “i would never turn my back on you”

sokka has a talk with toph after she blows up at katara for her motherly-attitude (and while i definitely have issues with this episode i still think it’s important that sokka sought out this conversation to sorta defend his sister and help toph see where katara is coming from)

aang and sokka hug and comfort her when she breaks down crying after becoming a bloodbender

after knowing her for so long (his whole life in sokka’s case—he’s her fucking brother) and witnessing the kind of reaction she had to bloodbending, aang and sokka both tried talking her down from killing a man. this is a 14-year-old girl in pain. the same 14-year-old girl who put her life and freedom at risk to save earthbenders from their metal prison and sobbed when she was forced to bloodbend to save her best friend from dying again and delayed their group’s traveling to relieve a fire nation village from fire nation pollution and control, was now demanding to kill a man in cold blood. aang and sokka were supporting her full on during this episode because they knew, more than fucking anyone, that killing yon rha would only hurt her once she came down from her blind rage. and to add even more proof of their unwavering trust in her to always do the right thing not just for others but for herself, aang allowed her to take appa to confront the man. appa, aang’s lifelong companion and animal guide, his only living reminder of his culture and pacifistic people, and who aang had suffered a painful separation from. aang trusted her with appa to go on this mission. because he trusts and supports her

———

now onto the claim that zuko is more mature than everyone else and therefore matches her in maturity. i just bust out laughing LMAO

for starters, let’s not act like katara is the epitome of maturity. yea, she’s the mom friend, but she’s still a kid and acts like one. yall just refuse to acknowledge the moments where she makes mistakes as her acting her age and being human. instead yall hold these mistakes over her more aggressively than the other characters or yall pretend they don’t exist in favor of idealizing her so she fits into your “she’s so mature and is a mother figure to everyone” role (her telling sokka “then you didn’t love her like i did”, blowing up at aang for picking up waterbending so quickly, antagonizing toph out of pettiness by making fun of her blindness—“too bad you can’t see them toph!”, etc.)

zuko is a whole other story lol. that boy wouldn’t know maturity if it hit him in the face, and when you compare his behavior to other characters in the gaang it becomes all the more obvious (incoming another—shorter—list)

aang when presented with his mistake in “bato of the water tribe” -> he accepts the consequences—katara and sokka leaving him—and admits he was wrong. he doesn’t blame anyone else nor does he beg for forgiveness or try convincing katara and sokka to stay. he accepts he was wrong and lets himself sit with the consequences of his actions. from then on, we never see aang selfishly hide information from his friends again

katara when presented with her mistake in “the waterbending scroll” after yelling at aang -> she apologizes immediately and punishes herself by handing the scroll over to him, claiming she wants nothing to do with it. she recognizes the mistake and quickly accepts a self-punishment to regulate her own behavior

sokka when presented with the issues of his sexism -> he gets on his knees in front of suki and respectfully asks that she train him, using the word ‘honor’ to communicate his sincerity. he admits his faults to her at the end of the episode and his behavior is different from then on. he reflects on a part of himself, deems that he needs to change, and then makes those changes without having to be forced into doing so or guided repeatedly into making the right choices along the way. he arrives there by himself after being presented with evidence that proves his original way of thinking wrong

now compare that with zuko’s journey of unlearning his prejudiced ways

when he is shown extreme kindness by song and her mother, he repays them by stealing from them

after having been on a good-streak while living in the earth kingdom, zuko sides with azula the moment his integrity is put to the test in front of the avatar, betraying his uncle in favor of “his honor”

when iroh stops talking to him, zuko screams at him and places blame on iroh for this change in their relationship

when mai is seen talking to another guy, zuko storms over and throws that guy across a room. she, understandably, breaks up with him

when katara gives him the cold shoulder, zuko demands “what’s your problem?!”, asking how it can be that she still hates him but everyone else has forgiven him, as if he hasn’t given her—and everyone else—plenty of reason to be distrustful of him for lifetimes to come

when aang is goofing off instead of training, zuko—instead of communicating—attacks him with blasts of fire, forcing aang to retaliate

the only reason why zuko is given this extreme maturity label is because his worldview was challenged and changed. whereas the other characters in the gaang already had correct worldviews and didn’t have to go through a series-long redemption arc to become good people. they were already good people, so their mistakes and shortcomings are held to higher standards than zuko’s because his are viewed as stepping stones to a pending redemption. never mind all the times in which he backtracked and hurt more people. those times were all “necessary” for his redemption to happen and be well-done. yall can excuse all of zuko’s flawed behavior by saying “but he was redeemed! that wasn’t really his true self!” and all that bullshit, so everything he does that’s good post-redemption gives yall this delusion that he was always this good person who is capable of making mature decisions (never mind the fact that he is still incredibly immature post-redemption and still has a long way to go in terms of unlearning his prejudices by the time the show ends)

in conclusion, yall have a weird obsession with isolating katara from all her relationships with the other characters in favor of making her zuko’s one and only, and yall have deluded yourselves into thinking either one of them are incredibly mature

that’s all i gotta say ✌️

[wayfayrr]

Love like you ✧*.⚝⋆

Here's the 400 follower raffle grand prize for @wailing-whaler!! Got Sky and reader collecting rocks <3 This went a little off of the initial base, but they do definitely collect rocks together (what a geologist not going utterly obsessed with rocks? it's a miracle) But this was very fun to write!! just soft soft fluff with the soft sleepy boy himself.

[masterlist]

“I’m still sorry for dragging you into this by the way.”

“You aren’t, and you don’t need to keep apologising for something you would happily do again in a heartbeat.”

“I am - I really am, I didn’t mean to drag you here.”

“You are an awful liar.”

He drooped like a puppet cut from its strings at that, offended I bet for calling him out. Despite it being the truth, he knows as well as I do that he was bouncing from the walls when I was brought into the game, happier than I’ve ever seen anyone before in my life. And emotions are new for him, kinda. 

“No- I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Hmph.” 

“Come on, I’ve already said that I really don’t mind it, why are you still so pouty?”

“Cause I wanted to get out rather than trapping you here with me.”

Oh, that admission is new. He’s dodged the reason why he brought me here since it happened, so that makes sense more than anything… The way that he’s leaning on me is also new though, and nice despite his grumbles, which come to a halt as he snakes his arms around me and buries his head into my neck from behind with a soft sigh. 

“Look it doesn’t really matter right now, you’ve got to save zelda right? So we should really get going, gaepora asked me to help you and I really don’t want to make a bad impression.”

That got me a squeeze and a little whine, does - does he not want to save her?

“But no matter how fast I am impa is going to tell me I’m late anyway, so why does it matter… I just wanna spend time with you.”

…

How does he know that..?How does he know what will happen??? He - this is his first time going through this journey… right? But it isn’t is it, even though he’s been trying to act like it is it’s not. I’ve played through this game once already, and he can remember that. The acceptance of it is like a cold chill down my spine, Link already knows me and has been pretending that he doesn’t, half-heartedly but still pretending. Or has he? Just because he hasn’t said it outright doesn’t mean that he’s trying to hide it, maybe he just assumed I knew already. Either way, would I be bothered by him hiding it? It’s not insidious or anything, he’s just like a lovesick puppy. 

“...Love? You - are you alright? I didn’t say something wrong did I?”  

“I was just thinking… link did you know about before?”

“Before? You mean your other playthrough right?”

Well that settles that, he wasn’t trying to hide it. It was just never mentioned, no reason for it to be honest. No one on skyloft needs to know their entire life is a game which could be very easily overheard on the tiny island and sky thought that I knew he knew so why reiterate the obvious already. 

“Sure I didn’t remember completely right away but going through Faron with you here- here brought everything crashing back so quickly.”

His grip on my waist tightened for a split second before loosening, like he’s not sure if I’ll want to be held close now that he’s sharing this. It’s only made clearer by the sigh he lets out as he takes a step away from me.

“I mean I remember remembering you when I tried to get out now, it was like… like when you fell here, on skyloft that is, everything got locked away but since we met the elder kikwi, everything has come back including how felt about it all and how I fell in l-!”

“How you ‘fell in l-’, why’d you cut yourself off there link, I’d love to know what you were going to say.” 

Almost by instinct, my head turns to follow him as he’s fumbling about in his own flustered embarrassment, having said just a tiny bit more than he’d probably meant. Stopping himself mid-word so sharply you’d think he’d bit his tongue to force himself to stop, but not soon enough that I didn’t know what he meant anyway.  

I won’t lie to myself. It’s something strange to know, and honestly all of this is making way more questions than it answers. Questions that it will be pretty hard to get answers too really, for one he and I both know this is a game and yet I’m here - he’s practically a person and… and he’s said it himself. He fell in love with me. But, I don’t dislike that. I really don’t dislike that. 

“I - I fell in love with you, and how you act and all the little things you do and how you make even the smallest things seem exciting, and it’s why I wanted out so badly so that I could hold you close and tell you how much I love every part of you, from the way your hair falls, to the way you smile, how you collect things that others wouldn’t see worth in but you give them so much worth. I can’t even tell you just how much I’ve wanted to get out even if just for a second to hand you a crystal or even a cute pebble I think would bring a smile to your face - even if it meant I’d go back to being trapped in this hell afterwards.”

My face feels like it’s about to set alight, and not from being on an active volcano. He’s still rambling about what made him fall for me, and it’s only getting more and more natural, he’s getting more and more human over time. More real. As with all good things though, it has to come to an end with him looking up only to realise that he’s been going on for a good few minutes now. Ceasing up like a deer in headlights as he struggles to move his mouth again, almost reflexively licking his lips before glancing down confusedly. Better to break through the awkwardness now so that it won’t get any worse. 

“You know, I wouldn’t be against having a relationship with you…”

“- You wouldn’t - I thought that you… you’d… you’d-”

“But.”

“...b-but?”

“I think I’d like to get to know you first link.”

“Wh - What..?”

“Well, right now I haven’t spent much time with ‘you’ you, and I don’t think it’s fair for you if I’m dating you expecting to you to be exactly like the character the game had you as.”

It’s easy to tell he’s thinking about it, with the hurt but pensive look on his face from being denied something he so clearly wanted a yes to. 

“But, I think I’ve been starting to fall for you too, for who you are link. I’d like to spend some more time with you before we have anything romantic.”

He perked up at that, a lot. Which I don’t blame him for. 

“There’s plenty of time for that then, we aren’t in any rush are we?”

“But zelda-?”

“Even if we were to teleport to the end of the dungeon we’d still be too late. Why not take it slow?”

Despite his leather gauntlets his hands are still nice to hold with how he’s intertwined ours, sneaking his fingers so that they snake between mine. Pulling my hand up to rest up on his cheek, leaning into it with a gentle sigh. 

“You’ve talked about wanting rocks from Eldin to study before, how it looked like a different volcano to anything you’ve ever seen. What if we just I don't know, went off and got you as many as you could ever want of them?”

His eyes look almost pleading, begging for me just to say yes, to give him this precious time so that he can win me over to being with him romantically. And really, how could I dream of saying no? Since ending up in skyloft those few weeks ago he’s been nothing but kind, patient and caring towards me and plus even though I said I wouldn’t compare him to the character he’s come to life around, he’s still link. Still the kind-hearted hero that I fell in love with when playing the game for the very first time, who i grew to wish was real when reading comics about his journey, why shouldn’t I be a little selfish when he cares for me as much as I do for him?

“I-”

Biting down hard on his lip now, the pleading look in his eyes switching to something more akin to outright begging. Just for me to say yes. As if there were any other options available to me. 

“I think I’d love to do that with you sky, as long as you’re certain we have the time.”

No words needed to be said after that, his face lighting up like the sky at a new years celebration. I swear if you looked closely you’d be able to see the very fireworks he was initiating in his own eyes. All the while his face was graced with the softest grin I could have hoped to see. It was definitely the right thing to say. 

“So, do you have anywhere that you think would be good places to collect some?”

“You really think after all this I wouldn’t have somewhere nearby in mind?”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask though, does it?”

“Well my pride might have gotten a little bruised, but that’ll heal in time.”

“...Do you reckon a kiss could help speed up that healing?”

“...”

“Link? Are you alright?”

“Are- would you do that for me?”

“If it’ll help fix your pride then, of course… wouldn’t want an injured hero would we?”

That shut him up well and truly, not even his usual confused soft stutters could be hurt as it seemed his code bluescreened at that idea. A full reboot happening in the time it took his face to go through a multitude of different emotions, settling on a gentle, yet mildly confused, look of contentment. Kinda spelling out his answer for me, but still, I’ll wait for clear consent before doing anything more forward than a suggestion. 

“...”

“Take your time, there’s no rush on an answer.”

A nod. Clearly he doesn’t feel comfortable speaking right now, but that's more than fine. It’s not exactly like I’m not used to him being mute again, if anything it’s not an awkward silence as he leads me over to the spot he was thinking of. A small patch to the south of Eldin, littered with just so many different stones. A dream spot for any collector, so close to an active volcano to get fresh samples well as fresh as you can get without quenching the lava. 

Will they even be able to come back out with me? Link seems to think he would have been able to come out of the game, but that only dragged me in here instead. Can I even get - don't ruin this moment with that line of thinking. We can figure that out later. 

“Hey [name], mind coming over here for a moment?” 

“Hmm? Sure, it isn't an issue.”

Speaking again now is a good sign, clearly his brain - does he have one? - has finished dealing with the bombshell I dropped on it earlier. Moving over to him isn’t a bad thing to do though, with whatever he’s holding seemingly a pleasant surprise. As soon as I’m back in front of him, he takes my chin in his hand delicately tilting it upright as he stares into my eyes. Biting down on his lips as he thinks of what to say, lifting up his other hand to my eye level, like he’s comparing whatever he’s holding to them. 

“...It really is the same colour.”

“Oh, why didn’t you tell me we were doing that, I would have been looking as well.”

“No, no collect whatever you’d like for your own collection, I just… wanted to do something where I could still just um… admire your beauty really. If you don’t want this one then, I- I can just keep it instead.”

“I’ll keep it. Thank you link, but really now we've got to get you one too.”

[dekariosclan]

As a fellow galemancer i had to share that when your doing the spell scene with gale, when the narrator says the weave is making your one, i couldnt help but notice that he slowly blinks at you like a cat, since tara is technically part cat im sure they blink slow for affection so im not sure but Gale as a cat person slow blinking at you feels so cute, just some food for thought adore you blog as well have a great day

OP, you are absolutely brilliant. However, it seems somehow tumblr autocorrected ‘tressym’ to ‘cat’ in your ask, because as Gale and Tara would both insist, she is definitely NOT a cat, absolutely not, not even a smidge, she’s proudly 100% tressym and we would never want to insult her or get on her bad side by insinuating otherwise! Obviously that was a mistake on tumblrs end! nothing more!!

(…okay OP I think we are in the clear, that should smooth things over with Tara, just wanted to cover all our bases there 😂)

You raise a really interesting point—Gale, having been partially raised by a tressym, could absolutely have picked up a few tressym qualities and mannerisms! So let’s talk about that:

slightly 18+ / suggestive under the cut!

First off, to your point, Gale does the tressym slow blink to show affection. As if Gale’s soft cow eyes weren’t appealing enough, those slow, soft, affectionate blinks?? How could you resist:

Gale loves to touch you, hold your hand, have his hands on you, and of course massage you…except that his massages, while lovely, seem to be less ‘ease your muscle stress by applying firm pressure’ and more ‘making biscuits on your back.’ When you ask where he learned his technique, he says he’s self-taught and proudly adds ‘Tara approves of my form.’ (Doesn’t matter, you love it regardless.)

Gale longingly mentions his tower’s ‘crackling hearth’ several times throughout the game, and just like Tara, it’s one of his favorite places to be—ESPECIALLY if he’s curled up next to it with you. Now, whether you’re on his lap or he’s on yours? That’s entirely up to you. Though Tara might object if her favorite spot—Gale’s lap—is too frequently occupied >:(

Gale occasionally adds in a soft, loving head bump during a makeout session—gently, of course! (This one is canon IMHO as he does this during his ‘Grateful’ kiss variant seen here)

Speaking of making out, when Gale’s engine really gets revved he’ll move from those yearning moans to a low, steady rumble of desire from deep in his chest. A purr of arousal if you will—but one that can turn into a growl as he hungrily claws at your clothes, if your laces/buttons are not cooperating with his need for immediate removal.

It’s canon that Gale hates vegetables, full stop. After all, what self-respecting tressym craves broccoli? He’d much prefer to share a meal of quipperfish, pigeon, or beholder meat with Tara. A proper carnivorous meal, and preferably one that comes with some sort of cream-based delicacy for dessert. Also…are those peas on his plate? Carrots?! Instantly incinerated.

And finally, Tressyms are fastidious about their cleanliness—Tara herself can be seen diligently cleaning her paws during the epilogue—so of course Gale follows suit. He’s very vocal about being disgusted by the bloodbath you can get while in the mindflayer colony in Act 2, and he loathes being in the sewers of Baldur’s Gate. Gale prefers to be clean and preened at all times, not only for his own sense of pride, but also so he can be as presentable as possible for you. (As he himself put it, ‘A gentleman is only as handsome as his least-groomed locus.’). Now when it comes to your cleanliness, though, Gale would never criticize you for your, ah…sweaty, glistening muscles after a fight, OR your particular musk arising from said sweatiness and dirt. In fact he rather likes it, because the only thing better than being clean is the process of getting clean, which he will happily help you with! Perhaps a long, hot, luxurious bath, your naked bodies intertwined as he runs his hands and mouth a bar of soap over every inch of you. Or, perhaps, if bathwater is not available, he could go full tressym and simply lick you clean himself clean you up in a different manner! Who knows?? The possibilities are endless, and he does have a practiced tongue. 😉

— — —

Thank you again for this lovely ask OP! I hope I painted an accurate picture of just how similar our beloved Gale is to a cat TRESSYM !!

As always if anyone has any additional points, please feel free to add them! 🐈🪽💜

[gayestcowboy]

can i be so honest? i don’t really understand why some people seem to hate it so much when romanceable video game characters are “playersexual”/always bi or pan/always attracted to the player character. like yeah of course gay/lesbian representation is really important, i don’t think i have to stress that point at all, but if games have romance options specifically, doesn’t it just make the most sense to have them be bi/pan? because everyone wins? it’s so refreshing to be able to romance any character regardless of your own in-game gender in games like bg3 after coming from games like fire emblem where you’re forced to be straight or have extremely limited gay options. and most obviously, bi/pan representation is also important. there isn’t a finite amount of space for queer representation in fiction, and i don’t see any harm in making specifically romanceable characters bisexual for the sake of inclusion/player satisfaction rather than having distinct individual sexualities. it’s not like all fictional characters should be forced to be bisexual. like is there something i’m missing or are people just weird about bisexuals

[macdenlover]

i’ve been thinking a lot about dee’s sexuality compared to dennis’s and I wanted to reblog this post with my thoughts but it would end up a being like a mile long so I’m dumping it here!

lesbian dee is probably one of the more “far fetched” headcanons i have (in the sense that dee hasn’t canonically shown interest in women at all) but i think it’s still a fun idea to explore because it doesn’t really take away from or water down anything previously established about her in canon and narratively it still draws from the intention of her character.

the crux of dennis’s and dee’s characters boil down to chasing a sense of power to repair the damage left from the emotional neglect in their childhoods— dennis obsessively trying to reach a distorted internal image of perfection, and dee constantly seeking out some sort of external approval. her relationships with men have always been shallow and fruitless, mostly just a series of one night stands to stroke her ego, kind of like dennis. the difference is dennis’s string of one night stands are way more about the journey than the destination than they are for dee. he gets off on the foreplay and the success of his own slimy methodology— it’s a different itch to scratch than the validation that dee craves, this lifelong desire to be wanted by someone even if she doesn’t want them back.

it’s also impossible to ignore the gender roles of it all. dennis and dee parallel each other a whole lot but it can never really be a 1 for 1 comparison. there is no direct parallel you can make for a character like dee, in her circumstance as a woman constantly surrounded by men who’ve been belittling her her entire life, who then desperately winds up craving approval from men in the form of sex. I think viewing it through the lens of comphet adds suchhh an interesting layer to it. would i love to see her canonically hook up with a womanthe waitress? of course. is it ever gonna happen on the show? probably not god please please please please i’m going to beg 8000 times.

now as for dennis. i firmly hc that he’s bi/unlabeled (in the sense that he’s bisexual but he thinks he’s too special to call himself bisexual).

he’s always had a more complicated relationship with queerness as an identity than he has with homosexuality itself, considering how weird he was about mac coming out, and the big speech he gave above mac’s obsession with labels. but he seems to be perfectly fine openly admitting he has a system to attract men and how much he loves putting his balls in dudes’ mouths. he’s not in denial about his attraction to men the way mac was, and i don’t think he’s had any reason to pretend to be sexually attracted to women if he wasn’t. he doesn’t value the respect of women enough for that, he’s really just in it for the puss.

speaking of which, something i think a lot of people forget about/ignore when analyzing these characters is the fact that they’re meant to be puppets for the show’s satire. the choices they make with these characters is meant to say something about the world, so i think viewing a character who’s primary traits surround his predatory behavior toward women as secretly gay just ends up saying the wrong thing?

ultimately it boils down to how much of the show’s intentions you factor into the way you see these characters but my general rule of thumb has been having as much fun as i can without disrupting the canon :)

[judes-baeeee]

You guys wanted a part two of the Nsfw alphabet 😋

N: no

Jude would never want to do something that you don’t want which is why you guys are very open with what you enjoy during sex

O: Oral

Jude loves receiving it from you because he loves the way how you choke on it, ( I think he has a size kink low-key) but he is very much a giving guy and prefers to give it to you

P: Pace

Jude does play football so his stamina is really high (if that makes sense 😬) which you can’t really keep up with, however is always praises you by calling you a good girl

Q : quickie

Jude loves a quickie when you guys a busy because he loves receiving your attention when your mind is occupying something else, but he does like to take his time while having sex with you so sometimes he makes you wait until you guys are at home

R: risk

Jude is a very risky guy when it comes to sex because he would fuck you in front of the whole world if he could but he respects your wishes, you even get embarrassed having sex while his mum is home.

S: stamina

As said before Jude is a football player so he can last loads of rounds whereas you can last like 2 or 3 but Jude does make sure to take good care of you after when your body is sore.

T: toys

Jude doesn’t really use toys as much because he doesn’t feel like there is a need to have them when you have him however he doesn’t mind trying them with you.

U: unfair

Jude is such a fucking tease, he loves to make you beg for him because it boosts his ego but he also secretly loves when you tease him, he loves when you take control.

V: volume

Jude is somewhat loud in the bedroom, he has little moans and grunts but he loves when you moan, he thinks it’s like music to his ears.

X: x-ray

Jude isn’t too big but isn’t too small, like it’s just the perfect size for you

Y: yearning

Anything to be honest, but if he sees you in a short skirt or bra he will loose it, Jude especially loves seeing your plump breasts on show.

Z: Zzz

Jude usually stays awake to wait until you fall asleep, he doesn’t want you to think he doesn’t care after having sex which is why he always gives you the best treatment after.

Hope you guys enjoy this one and feel free to leave requests xx

[clangenrising]

Month 16 - Greenleaf

When Aldertail had volunteered to go herb gathering with him, Oddstripe had been delighted but he had definitely expected her to get tired and lose interest by this point. The day was hot but there was a nice breeze and, as they meandered the territory looking for patches that hadn’t already been harvested, Oddstripe couldn’t help but smile. 

“Y’know, I’d really love to find some thyme or juniper,” he said, hopping over a stone in his path. 

“What do those do?” Aldertail asked, carefully picking her way after him. Her legs were the best he’d ever seen them. There was almost no redness and the fur had nearly grown back in. Oddstripe was so proud.

“Thyme is very calming and juniper berries are just all around useful. On top of being calming, they soothe belly aches, help with coughs, and they can even treat aching joints when mixed with the proper herbs. I’d love to get some for Sagetooth.” 

Aldertail’s ears pressed back briefly. “Mm, would that help?”

“Oh, yes,” Oddstripe nodded. “When she isn’t suffering from her aches, she’s really, actually very kind. It can just be hard for her to stay that way when she’s in a lot of pain.” 

“I guess,” Aldertail shrugged. “I feel like you don’t just start being mean to people though, if that makes sense.” 

“I get what you mean,” said Oddstripe, “but something you have to remember is that your body and your mind aren’t two separate entities. They’re both you and they influence each other.” Aldertail winced in an attempt to seem less skeptical. Oddstripe laughed a little and tried to think of a better way to explain. “Oh, for example, when your mind starts to run wild, you feel sick to your stomach right?”

“Yeah,” Aldertail nodded. 

“So that’s your mind influencing your body!” Oddstripe grinned. “But the inverse is also possible. Like, if you’re very scared, we do those deep breaths and the act of calming your body calms your mind.” Aldertail hummed thoughtfully. “So when Sagetooth’s body aches it makes it harder for her to control the way she speaks to people. You’re right that it doesn’t make her something she isn’t but it’s also not entirely her choice. Even I can get snappy when I’m stressed or ill.” 

“Really?” Aldertail didn’t seem convinced. “I can’t picture you snappy.” 

Oddstripe blushed and laughed as he replied, “Oh, that’s very sweet of you.”

“It’s true,” she said. “You’ve only ever been kind and gentle.” 

“Well, I’ve been lucky that I’ve never felt ill enough to snap at you,” he said, full of pride. 

“Mm,” Aldertail chewed her lip. “So where would we find juniper berries?” 

“Hmm,” Oddstripe scrunched up his face in thought. “I know a place they’ll definitely be but its a bit of a distance. Would you still want to come along?” 

“Of course!” she nodded vigorously. “I like learning about medicine.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe. 

“Mhm,” nodded Aldertail. “It’s so… powerful. I can’t imagine being able to do what you do.” 

“Oh, it’s really not that hard to learn,” Oddstripe said, changing course. “I’ll show you.”

As they made their way towards the juniper bushes, Oddstripe went over all of the basics he could think of. Healing was something he was intensely passionate about and Aldertail indulged him in his ramblings for the entirety of their walk. Oddstripe couldn’t remember the last time someone had let him ramble like this. It felt amazing. 

They crossed the eastern border and Oddstripe assured Aldertail that everything would be alright. Eventually, the grass petered out and the earth beneath their paws turned to dry, sunbaked mud patterned with cracks and ridges. Oddstripe smiled at the feeling of it under his paws. It had been too long since he’d stepped foot in the desert and he had missed it. They passed little burrows and scurrying lizards and dry looking shrubs and then finally came across the big juniper bush.

“Tada!” Oddstripe declared, unfurling his tail towards the cloudless sky. 

“This is a juniper bush?” Aldertail asked, glancing around its leaves as if something would jump out. 

“Mhm!” he purred. “The berries near the bottom are usually gone because creatures eat them but we can jump up and snag a few branches to take home. Maybe we could even plant one closer to the territories.”

“That would be a good idea,” Aldertail squirmed. “I don’t like this place.” 

“Really?” asked Oddstripe, tilting his head.

“Yeah, it’s too open,” she shuddered. “Let’s hurry up and go home.” 

“Alright,” he frowned worriedly. He’d never considered that someone might not enjoy being able to see the world stretch out endlessly around them. He bunched his legs underneath him and sprang into the bush, but failed to grab onto any of the branches. “Mousedung. Let me try again.” 

He jumped again, this time snagging a branch in his teeth, and his weight pulled it down to a place where Aldertail could help him snap it off. He handed the branch over to her and tried again. The leaves rattled as he fell through them, this time taking another two tries before he caught another branch in his claws. It nearly slipped and he had to scramble to clamp his jaws down around it, smearing berry juice all over his muzzle. 

“Are you okay?” asked Aldertail. 

“Uh huh,” he said awkwardly. “‘Ah you ‘reah ih?” 

“Oh, right! Sorry!” Aldertail hurried forward to start chewing through the branch.

“S’alrigh’,” he chuckled, feeling silly. She met his eyes and flushed pink, quickly averting her gaze to focus on her work. He laughed again. She was such a sweetheart. 

A voice startled them both. “You shouldn’t be out here.” 

Aldertail squeaked and flattened herself against the ground. Oddstripe tried to turn around but struggled to do so without letting go of the branch which didn’t occur to him at all. The cat who had spoken, thankfully, stepped to the side into his view. She was a plain looking grey tabby with bright, golden eyes, and she was watching them with an expression that read to Oddstripe as professional. 

“Oh, sahhy,” he tried to say around the branch in his teeth. 

A small smile poked at the edges of the stranger’s lips and she glanced carefully at Aldertail before asking, “Would you like a paw?”

“Mm!” Oddstripe grinned and nodded clumsily. “Mhm!”

The stranger chuckled softly, dropping her gaze to her paws for a moment, before she stepped up and swatted the branch where Aldertail had been chewing it. The force of the blow was enough to snap it and Oddstripe stumbled away as the rest of the branch sprang noisily back into place. Aldertail squeaked again, and scrunched herself closer to his side. 

He laid his tail over her back, dropped the branch, and then licked his muzzle before speaking. “Thank you! I really appreciate the help. My name’s Oddstripe, what’s yours.” 

“Oscar,” the she-cat smiled with a polite dip of her head. “I’m glad to be of assistance but I really must urge you to leave this place.” 

“Oh?” asked Oddstripe, ears perking. “What for?” 

“This is coyote territory,” she said, scanning the area with a sharp gaze. “You aren’t safe here.” 

“Oh, I didn’t realize the coyotes had come so far west,” Oddstripe said. 

“You live here?” asked Oscar, brow furrowing. 

“No, no, but I used to live near here,” he said. “Now I’m out in the grasslands.” 

“I see,” Oscar nodded. “Well, I must insist you return home, for your own safety.” 

“We will, thank you,” smiled Oddstripe.

Oscar glanced around again and said, “Should you require an escort, I would be happy to oblige.” 

“I don’t think it would hurt,” Oddstripe said. “Aldertail, honey, is that alright with you?” Aldertail simply shrugged, eyes wide enough to show the whites. 

Oddstripe’s ears drooped in pity. “Oh, you poor thing. Here, let’s head back to camp.” He licked her cheek and helped her stand, then handed her one of the juniper sprigs to carry. Having something in her mouth would keep her occupied, he thought. Picking up his own branch, he glanced at Oscar and said, “It’s just this way.” 

“I follow your lead,” she deferred with a bow of the head. Oddstripe blushed, a silly little flutter dancing in his stomach. Something about her seemed right out of a story. He’d never felt that way before. 

Shrugging it off, he led the way, tail wrapped around Aldertail’s leg reassuringly. She stayed close to his side, ears flat against her skull, and Oscar stayed on the opposite side of him, at least two tail lengths away. Oddstripe wanted to walk closer but the distance was probably best for Aldertail. How considerate of their new companion, he thought. 

“So, Oscar,” he asked, able to speak around the sprig this time, “why are you out here in coyote country?” 

“I’m patrolling,” she said. “I look for creatures like you and give them the warning.” 

“Creatures?” Oddstripe chuckled but Oscar nodded seriously.

“Yes. Anything I can speak to. Cats, deer, snakes, most birds.”

“Wow!” Oddstripe marveled. “That’s amazing! I didn’t realize you could talk to those kinds of things.” 

“It’s simple if you have a teacher,” said Oscar humbly. 

“It seems most things are,” laughed Oddstripe. 

It wasn’t long before they reached the edge of the grass again. Oscar stopped under a scrubby little tree and said. “I should return to my patrol. Will you be able to get home from here?” 

“Oh, yes,” nodded Oddstripe. “Thank you so much, Oscar, it was lovely to meet you.”

She shook her head. “I’m simply doing my duty.”

“Well, thank you anyway,” said Oddstripe. She smiled, dipped her head in a polite bow, and then turned and bounded back into the desert. Oddstripe watched her go like he was trying to catch every last moment of her before she disappeared forever. Eventually, her shape disappeared into the shimmering edge of the horizon. 

“Oddstripe?” asked Aldertail quietly. 

“Oh,” he blinked and looked down at her. “Yes, dear?” 

“I’d like to go home, is that okay?” 

“Oh, of course it is,” he said, “let’s go home.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, that’s alright. Sorry I got distracted.” 

“What was her deal?” Aldertail asked, craning her head to see if she could spot Oscar in the distance.

“I don’t know,” Oddstripe breathed softly, doing the same.

[anifever]

can you pls do an outsiders x Nerdy fem reader? Like, braces boy band fangirl who rants about comics type. Would rather have it being Curtis sister reader but you can do whatever, tyy <33

Gang w/ a Nerdy!Reader ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The Outsiders x Fem!Reader

୨୧ : The Curtis gang with a nerdy reader

A/N : This is kinda bad bcs I get unmotivated to write sometimes but I swear I’m trying omg. Also I didn’t do Curtis sister simply so it’d be more ambiguous, sorry 💔 Anyways this is literally me except I just don’t have braces anymore

˖⁺‧₊˚ 👓 ˚₊‧⁺˖

Darry

୨ You cut pics of The Rolling Stones members, etc out of the newspapers he reads and keep them

୨ He’s confused at first then he’s like “Oh..” when he realizes what’s happening- he doesn’t mind tho

୨ You write the dumbest little notes/pickup lines and put them in his lunch bag for work

୨ He doesn’t understand most of them but he likes them regardless

୨ He read comics here and there when he was a kid, but he definitely doesn’t anymore 😭

୨ He’s always arguing with Pony about those things and just doesn’t really get it

୨ Even though he doesn’t understand yours and Pony’s infatuation with stuff like that, he thinks it’s nice you’re able to bond with each other over it

୨ At some point you convince him to watch one of your favorite sci-fi type tv shows with you whenever he isn’t busy

୨ It’s a pipeline of him saying he doesn’t like it, pretending he doesn’t like it, then being really invested in it

୨ Anyways, even if your interests don’t exactly line up, you still love each other

୨ You rambling over stuff all the time honestly helps him forget about the stress in his life

Two-Bit

୨ He has no room to talk when his favorite show is still Mickey Mouse at the age of 18 and a half

୨ He thinks it’s cute in an endearing way

୨ He makes fun of you a bit but he doesn’t mean it seriously- that’s just how he is

୨ You guys discuss superheroes together and get way too in depth about it

୨ When he sees your room for the first time there’s like little figurines everywhere, etc and he’s just like “Huh, I have that one too” while pointing at the Hulk or something

୨ He doesn’t gaf, at least it’s clean unlike his

୨ If you have braces, he’s absolutely making jokes about it

୨ You’re getting called metal mouth but it’s out of love I promise

୨ He doesn’t let other people make jokes about it though

୨ Like that’s his job!!! Leave his girl alone!!!

୨ This man defends you with his life I’m so serious

୨ Anyways, whenever he gets super drunk and he starts rambling the exact same way you do normally so it sort of evens you out

୨ Idk what else to even say because you both just make so much sense- it seems so obvious

Steve

୨ I hate to say it, but he calls you brace-face

୨ Ironic because he needs some himself!!! 😊

୨ You said something along those lines to him once and he was so caught off guard and offended

୨ Even though he’s a smartass and you’d figure he’d be mean abt it, I feel like he’s probably kinda the same as you- at least when he was younger

୨ Bro knows his DC and Marvel lore

୨ You guys are constantly re-watching ‘Godzilla’ together

୨ There’s probably a picture of him from when he was younger dressed as it for Halloween or something too

୨ You have made him go to a concert with you

୨ He didn’t even really care about you freaking out over the guys, he was more upset that you chose The Beach Boys of all people

୨ He considers it “Soc music”

୨ You most likely don’t understand anything about cars

୨ He could sit there for hours trying to explain stuff to you and it just won’t click

୨ He’s like “How can you remember every fucking Beach Boys song but not what an exhaust does??”

୨ Okay you probably aren’t that dense but still

Dallas

୨ Yeahhh, he’s making fun of you

୨ It’s out of love tho 😇 most of the time..

୨ You constantly make references about comics and shows and he has no clue what you’re talking about

୨ You use the word kryptonite around him and he’s like “..What the HELL did you just say to me?”

୨ Most of the things you ramble about, he doesn’t understand, like, at all

୨ Much to his dismay, he can’t help his features from softening when he watches you do it

୨ You definitely gives him a break from all the reckless crazy stuff he does

୨ You use so many big words (they usually aren’t that crazy) and he’s just like “Could you speak English?”

୨ When he first went inside your room, it was covered in posters from movies like ‘Dracula,’ ‘Creature from the Black Lagoon,’ ‘Psycho,’ ‘Frankenstein,’ ‘The Birds,’ etc

୨ At first he was like “Jesus…” but really he thought it was pretty cool

୨ You guys are horror movie enjoyers⁉️

୨ You’re probably more of a geek over them than he is, but it’s just barely (he’d never admit it)

Soda

୨ You definitely fangirl over The Beatles and it lowkey hurts his feelings

୨ You have to be like “Soda.. you literally look like a movie star why are you worried-”

୨ Yes you know Paul’s blood type, time of birth, and who his fourth cousin twice removed is; so what? 🙄

୨ Knowledge-wise you balance each other out

୨ You have amazing grades in all your classes and he’s dropped out 🤍 but on the other hand, you are not very street smart

୨ Like if you have a gun held to your head, let’s hope they’ll ask you trivia about ‘The Twilight Zone’ for your freedom

୨ Anyways, he tries to keep up with and understand the stuff you talk about

୨ Give him time 💔 he’s trying

୨ He probably already knows a bit from having grown up with Pony, but it’s still nothing crazy

୨ He carries around extra wax for your braces in his pocket in case they ever start hurting you (idk if they were invented yet in the 60’s but let’s pretend)

୨ Throws wrenches and things like that at Steve if he says stuff about you

୨ You get pretty insecure since he’s so popular with girls and they usually aren’t like you; but he’s always reassuring you over it

Johnny

୨ You guys read comics together

୨ He’s a spider-man lover and I’ll die on this hill

୨ Someone write Johnny Cade spider-man au rn

୨ He’s constantly telling Dallas to “lay off” when he says stuff about you

୨ Finds your braces cute- he thinks they just add to your charm

୨ Anything that helps him somewhat escape reality, he enjoys; he gladly talks about nerdy stuff with you

୨ He gets along with Pony so well and he has most of those interests, and it’s the same way with you

୨ You guys sit in the lot and stargaze constantly; each time you point out and name the constellations along with explaining their backstories

୨ He listens with a fond smile on his face every time

୨ He thinks it’s cool you’re able to remember all of that

୨ You’re both just so cute I’m crying

୨ Whenever he comes over, he always admires the figures, posters, books, etc you have around your room

Pony

୨ Idc his ass is also a nerd

୨ Maybe not in the exact ways you are, but he definitely still is

୨ You help him in certain classes he’s not doing well in which he is extremely thankful for

୨ You guys also read comics together 😋

୨ Usually you make him read them out loud though since you love his voice and also think he’s good at the sound effects

୨ That being said, you both give each other book recommendations

୨ You guys go to the drive-in/theater together constantly and have heavy debriefings over all of the movies (mainly the sci-fi ones)

୨ You guys are both big fans of Elvis

୨ He’s a fan music-wise, you’re a fan of literally everything

୨ You’ve seen every single one of his movies. Multiple times.

୨ Definitely makes him a little jealous but he tells himself it’s not a big deal

୨ He can’t even be mad at you geeking out when he preforms on TV, he understands

୨ All that being said, you guys actually go really well together

[coloursflyaway]

hello 💘 i’m loving your stories and i have a prompt for something silly: what could the boys possibly be using a ouija board for/why did they acquire it in the first place? you pointed it out among all their iterations of clue and now i have questions lol

And finally, I have your second fic ready!

This Is How For Now We Touch

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 5.200

Read on AO3

“Hey, Edwin”, Charles says, and there is something about his voice that lets Edwin know he will be rolling his eyes at least once during the upcoming conversation.

“What is it?”

“I got us something”, Charles answers and pulls a box from the bag he’s been carrying, black and unwieldy, adorned in white scribbles. He’s holding it out like it’s something precious, which Edwin highly doubts it is, considering the look Charles gives him. “Something really really cool.”

Edwin takes a moment to look at the box, the poor quality of the cardboard and the horrible picture of teenagers that are trying to look frightened, and yes, some eye rolling will definitely be necessary here. “Why on Earth would we need a Ouija board, Charles?”

The grin on Charles’ lips would be obnoxious if Edwin didn’t like him so much.

“To talk to ghosts, of course.”

It becomes a game, even if Edwin still does not know how: sometimes, when the agency is quiet, one of them gets the Ouija board, they set up some candles, and they talk to each other through it, pretending that they cannot see the other’s fingers as he moves the planchette with them.

Of course, it is silly and quite childish, but it’s also fun, a good way to focus on each other and their words completely, and sometimes, at least for Edwin, it’s easier to say things like this, without having to speak them out-loud.

So, when he looks at Charles one day and there is so much warmth and affection in his chest that it feels overfull, overflowing, ready to burst, he pulls out the board in the evening, lights the candles, and spells out, letter for beautiful, frightening, worthwhile letter: YOU’RE THE BEST FRIEND I’VE EVER HAD.

Usually, Charles would try and guess the words before Edwin has finished them, but this time, he doesn’t; when he looks up at Edwin again, his eyes are soft and bright with emotion, and maybe it’s just the flickering light of the candles, but they look just a little wet.

“You’re mine, too”, he says, and the feeling in Edwin’s chest grows even fuller, even warmer, even more overwhelming. He never wants it to fade.

(It doesn’t.)

I LET YOU WIN AT CLUE LAST TIME, Charles spells when they set up the board once more a week later, and almost doubles over laughing when Edwin starts sputtering in pure outrage.

It’s the longest they have ever gone without a case in the short history of their detective agency, and the candlelight is making Charles’ skin shine like polished metal when he slides the planchette to the last letter of his question.

WHAT’S YOUR FAVOURITE COLOUR?

There isn’t much to say, since there isn’t much going on, so Charles asking a question so inane makes sense, in some sort of way. Edwin finds he doesn’t mind it like he usually would, idle chitchat not to his taste unless Charles is the one making it.

Blue, Edwin wants to answer, out of habit more than anything, but then he stops himself, thinks. This is Charles after all, his best friend in the world, in his life and afterlife, and if anyone deserves an honest answer, it’s him. Even if the question is something so utterly inconsequential.

“Red”, he finally says, without quite knowing why. “It’s red, oh noble spirit.”

I CAN’T REMEMBER MY PARENTS’ FACES, Edwin spells out and every letter feels like the stab of a needle, the slice of a blade. And yet, it should be harder to admit to something so monstrous; and yet, it cannot be, because Charles’ gaze stays warm and understanding, just like Edwin knew it would.

“It’s been a long time”, Charles tells him, “And a lot has happened in between. I’m sure they’d understand, oh my spiritual guide.”

It takes a moment, because Edwin wants to give this idea a chance, because Charles is looking at him with so much kindness, but in the end, there is only one answer Edwin can give. He might have forgotten his parents’ faces, but not their character, not yet.

I DO NOT THINK SO.

A beat, far shorter than it should be, then Charles breaks the unspoken rules of their game and puts a hand over Edwin’s where it rests on the planchette, and holds it tight.

“Then they deserve to be forgotten”, he says, and sounds like he means it.

Edwin wishes he could say the same.

LET ME PUT SOME EYELINER ON YOU.

Charles waggles his eyebrows exaggeratedly, and for a moment, Edwin considers saying yes, just to see the surprise in Charles’ eyes. But it’s the third time he has asked the question, so he will ask again, and the longer Edwin resists, the greater the shock will be.

“Under absolutely no circumstances. Don’t even try it.”

AWW.

“Very well put, noble spirit. Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

DO YOU WANT TO GO ON A TRIP?, Edwin writes and watches Charles’ eyes light up, just like he knew they would. They haven’t done it often yet, usually quite busy with their cases, but they have just survived the Great Debacle of the Double-decker Buses, mainly unscathed even, and Edwin believes they deserve a little break.

“Oh, that would be brills, oh spiritual guide of mine”, Charles tells him, then adds, “Where do you want to go?”

There are a hundred suggestions burning on Edwin’s lips, because he never got to travel when he was still alive, only heard about faraway places through his mother’s library, but they all stay unspoken, at least for now.

YOU CHOOSE.

And Charles smiles at him, and Edwin knows it was the right thing to say immediately.

“That’s almost too much responsibility”, Charles answers, and he sounds a bit like no one trusted him with something like this before; Edwin hopes more than anything that it isn’t true. “I’ll come up with something. Something really good. I promise.”

(They go to Athens, and see the Acropolis and the Parthenon and afterwards, Delphi, and Edwin knows that, even if Charles enjoys it, he’s picked it for Edwin’s sake. Next time, he promises himself, he’ll choose, and they’ll go somewhere Charles will have the time of his afterlife.)

Charles seems to consider the words far longer than he usually would; maybe it should be worrying, but there is nothing about Charles that could worry Edwin, not really.

WHAT DO YOU MISS ABOUT BEING ALIVE?, he finally writes, and there is some fragility in the question that Edwin doesn’t understand and can feel anyway, like an echo of a thought he has had himself.

And he looks at Charles, looks at the space they have made for themselves, thinks of their cases and the souls they have helped, and comes up empty.

“To be perfectly truthful, nothing at all”, he answers, and there is something happy in the smile he gets from Charles in return, something sad as well.

It’s still morning, which makes the candles superfluous, but Edwin lights them anyway, puts them on their assigned spaces on the table cloth they got years ago; something about a séance without them just feels wrong to him.

“Do you want to write today?”, Charles asks from where he is already sitting, looking up at Edwin with eyes that Edwin could draw from memory and yet would never be able to get quite right.

“Yes, why not?”, he answers, like he hasn’t been buzzing with the need for it since the sun has risen. Not because there is something in particular he wants to say, but just because he wants Charles to listen, wants Charles’ gaze on his fingers as he moves the planchette, wants Charles’ attention on him.

It’s a desire that occurs often, at the same time one that Edwin doesn’t inspect too closely.

He sits down once the candles are lit, and it feels a little bit like coming home, because Charles smiles at him, focussed on nothing but Edwin and what he wants to say, even if what Edwin wants to say is nothing at all.

Do you have a favourite flower?, he wants to ask for a moment, then wants to spell, Your handwriting might be some of the worst I’ve ever seen. I enjoyed the last song you showed me. We should go on a trip sometime.

In the end, he writes none of it.

Because Charles looks up at him and there is so much tenderness in his gaze, and Edwin’s heart flows over with the love he has for him.

I LIKE YOU SO MUCH.

And as he reads it, letter for letter, Charles’ face lights up with the same emotion; Edwin knows his answer before he has a chance to give it, has known it all along.

“I like you just as much. Oh, best of all spiritual guides.”

I REALLY WANNA PUT SOME EYELINER ON YOU, Charles writes and Edwin has to do his very best not to smile.

“Absolutely not, noble spirit. I don’t know why you keep asking.”

U JUST WANNA SEE THE BOOK OF KELLS AGAIN, Charles spells and he’s grinning so smugly Edwin wants to groan.

“Absolutely not, I have no idea what you are talking about. Also, please be so kind as to use proper spelling”, Edwin tells him, resisting the urge to fix his bow tie, or smooth down his lapels, before tacking on, “Oh, noble spirit, who I know is familiar with the orthography of the word you.”

It makes Charles laugh, his warm, dark eyes crinkling at the edges, but Edwin ignores that, since Ouija boards do not transmit sound after all.

JUST ADMIT IT AND I’LL TAKE YOU TO DUBLIN, Charles spells out, and the problem, the real problem here, is that Edwin knows Charles means it and they will be through the mirror and at Trinity College within the minute.

The other real problem is that Charles is right, and that he knows it.

“Fine”, he concedes, hissing the word out like it has offended him personally, and then, because Charles’ grin is only widening, adds, “but we’ll also have to pay the Oscar Wilde statue a visit.”

The tip of Charles’ tongue peaks out between his lips as he drags the planchette across the board, quicker than he usually would, like there is a timeline he has to adhere to. It’s distracting in a way Edwin cannot quite pinpoint; it’s not like he hasn’t seen Charles’ tongue before, stuck out behind the back of infuriating witnesses, trying to catch raindrops that just phased through them, or, one memorable time, trying and failing to lick an ice cream cone.

And yet, Edwin cannot keep his eyes off it now, which makes it quite difficult to keep up with what it is Charles is spelling.

DO YOU WANNA GO TO A CONCERT TONIGHT, it reads in the end, after Edwin has patched up the gaps in between letters, and he already wants to shake his head, because good heavens, does he not want to, but Charles is still spelling.

THERE’S A SPECIAL’S CONCERT AND IT’S THEIR LAST TOUR AND I DON’T WANT TO GO ALONE

And he looks up at Edwin and his eyes are so wide and pleading, and Edwin knows he might be signing up for the worst night of a long time, but his head nods his approval before he has been able to form half a thought.

The smile that blooms on Charles’ lips within a split-second is worth all of it.

BRILLS, MATE. IT STARTS AT 8.

(It isn’t the worst night by any stretch of the imagination, not because Edwin ends up enjoying the music or the lights or the crowd, but because he watches Charles dance like he’s forgotten everything around them, because he listens to him belt out lyrics at the top of his lungs although no one but Edwin will hear him, because Charles is having the time of his afterlife and the thought that Edwin almost wasn’t there to witness it, is almost painful.)

LETS GO TO CORK, Edwin writes and Charles looks at him, confused.

“Cork? Why Cork? We’ve just been to Ireland.”

THERE IS A JAZZ FESTIVAL.

“But you’ll hate that. You don’t like concerts, do you?” Charles’ left eyebrow is raised, but he looks excited, and oh, Edwin definitely has made the right choice.

BUT YOU DO. LETS GO.

A pause, their fingers almost but not quite touching on the planchette, and then Charles ducks his head, smiles up at Edwin from beneath his lashes, and it does something to Edwin’s heart he refuses to think about.

“Yeah, okay.” Another pause, shorter this time. “Thank you. Oh, most generous of all spiritual guides.”

There is no Ouija board in Port Townsend, but once Crystal has gone to sleep, Edwin makes Charles go fetch it from their home. This, at least, Charles finds without difficulty.

For once, there is no discussion who will play the ghost, Edwin just picks up the planchette as soon as they have lit the single candle they could find, places it in the middle of the board and waits for Charles’ fingers to join his. They look right there, just barely touching.

“What wisdom do you want to impart on me tonight, my spiritual guide?”, Charles asks, a hint of a smile on his lips although he must know that it feels less like a game to Edwin right now, more like a confession. Edwin would do anything for him.

I’M AFRAID, he starts spelling and his hands are shaking, and Edwin doesn’t waste any energy on hoping Charles won’t notice; he will, of course, THAT YOU WILL END UP LIKING CRYSTAL MORE THAN ME.

There is a pause, and Edwin cannot look up at Charles and see his expression. He won’t find pity there, he knows Charles too well to fear that, but he isn’t sure what else to expect.

The planchette jerks under his fingertips, and then suddenly, there are arms around his shoulders, pulling Edwin closer until the only thing that stops the motion is the table digging into his stomach. Charles is solid against him in a way very few other things are, his head fitting into the crook between Edwin’s shoulder and neck in a way that seems to complete him, and Edwin wishes with something bordering on desperation that he could let out breath deep enough to carry all the tension dissipating from his spectral body.

“That’s never going to happen”, Charles mutters into the fabric of his suit, almost against his skin, and Edwin finally manages to raise his arms and hug Charles back. “There’s no one in the world I could like more than you. Believe me. Not a single person.”

They’re back in London – finally – and yet it doesn’t feel as triumphant as Edwin had hoped it would. Niko’s loss is a wound that Edwin cannot stop prodding, although it hurts every time his thoughts brush up against it, and even if he has come to like Crystal quite a bit, there is still a part of Edwin that misses how it was before she was there, when it was just Charles and him.

And maybe Charles can sense it in him, maybe he feels the same; what Edwin knows is that the first evening, after Crystal has gone back to her hotel to have a long shower and whatever the minibar has to offer, Charles walks into their game closet and comes out of it holding a familiar, battered black-and-white box.

“Let me write this time?”, he asks, and Edwin nods; how could he do anything else?

They set up their little séance, the white tablecloth, the dried flowers, the dripping candles, and although he was the one to suggest it, Charles’ hands hesitate for a moment before settling down, fingertips barely touching the planchette.

He has beautiful hands, Edwin allows himself to notice this time, strong and yet elegant, and Edwin remembers how the left one felt, even through their gloves, when Charles had put it over his own, expecting to be sucked into oblivion any second.

ABOVE ALL, Charles writes, then pauses, like he has to collect his thoughts, and Edwin will give him this time, will give him all the time he needs, whenever he needs it. I AM GLAD YOU ARE HERE.

They look up at the same time, and Edwin’s tears are glistening in Charles’ eyes, and part of him wants to reach out and hug Charles and feel him solid and real against his chest, part of him wants to stay like this forever, looking at Charles and being looked at in return.

Edwin does a third thing.

ME 2, he writes, orthography be damned, and then grips Charles’s hands in his and vows he won’t let go until he has made him smile again.

HOW MANY LEGS DO YOU THINK A MILLIPEDE REALLY HAS, Charles asks weeks later.

They have exhausted all other kinds of questions, the sun almost rising between the skyline of London, and Edwin can’t help but chuckle. Charles quirks an eyebrow in response, an invitation, and he’s so pretty, so carefree and relaxed that Edwin wants to reach out and touch him, no matter in which way, in hopes of some of it rubbing off on him.

“Do you really want to know, oh noble spirit? Because I can find the appropriate books to answer your question”, he asks, but allows his fingers to slide just a little closer to Charles’ on the planchette until they are touching in the most insignificant, the most important way.

YEAH, GO ON.

And it hurts to break the contact once more, but it’s worth it to read Charles page upon page of The Complete Encyclopedia of Common Insects on their sofa, Charles’ feet resting in Edwin’s lap and Edwin’s fingers slowly moving to circle Charles’ ankle; not a shackle, but an anklet, a piece of jewellery.

DO YOU KNOW ANY POEMS? Edwin asks, because he’s spent the day buried in volumes of Byron’s prose, and Charles looks like he might start laughing; Edwin isn’t sure why.

“Sure do, oh greatest of spiritual guides”, he replies, and it definitely isn’t the answer Edwin expected.

WHICH IS YOUR FAVOURITE?

“Whichever it is you’re reading to me at the moment”, Charles answers easily, and Edwin isn’t sure how he ever could not have fallen in love with him.

LET ME PUT SOME EYELINER ON YOU, Charles spells out, familiar words and an even more familiar grin on his lips.

“This is the fourteenth time you asked me that, noble spirit”, Edwin points out, and cannot help but smile back. They were so busy on back-to-back cases that it feels like he hasn’t had time to look at Charles properly in far too long. He’s beautiful like this, bathed in candle light and the silence of their agency, and Edwin aches with it in the most pleasant of ways.

YOU COUNTED?

“Of course.”

A pause that lasts maybe a second too long; Charles’ fingertips are pressed against his, and Edwin cannot feel, and feels them still.

I DID TOO.

YOU WERE QUITE BRILLIANT TODAY, Edwin spells out, because it’s true; Charles’ quick thinking had saved them all that day, battering the right one of three vessels on pure instinct alone.

“Ah, shush”, Charles says, but he is ducking his head, smiling; Edwin loves him so much it feels like a physical weight in his chest, grounding him in the best way. “Couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

THEN WE WERE QUITE BRILLIANT TODAY, Edwin tries again, in case it will be easier for Charles to take the compliment this way. He tries for a smile as well, and Charles’ eyes go soft at that; their fingers are touching, but it almost feels like Charles is trying to press closer still.

“That we were, oh sweetest of all spiritual guides”, Charles concedes, and for a split-second, the brightness of his smile is enough to let Edwin forget about anything else, but only that.

Sweetest?

MY FAVOURITE POEM USED TO BE FIRST MEMORY BY LOUISE GLÜCK, Charles writes, apropos of nothing, on a calm summer night when Crystal has long since gone back to her apartment and the only thing they have to do is tell silly stories, taking turns with the Ouija board.

“Your favourite…?”, Edwin starts, but it’s true, he has asked about it before. He stops for a moment, Charles watching him, and rifles through his memories to find the poem in question, before stopping dead in his tracks.

It makes sense, too much of it.

“Oh, Charles…”

Without thinking, he puts his hand over Charles’ on the planchette, even if only for a moment, because Charles is writing more.

IT’S NOT ANYMORE.

And Charles gives him a smile, and it’s not broken and not brittle, and so Edwin chooses to believe him, and smiles back.

“Give me a minute to get some books”, Edwin says, and gets up before Charles has the opportunity to answer, “We will find you a new one.”

Edwin waits until Charles has sat down and put his fingers where they belong, then writes, WHAT WERE YOU TWO TALKING ABOUT?

It sounds jealous, but that is not what makes Edwin ask the question, it’s genuine curiosity. He had been setting up the Ouija board when Crystal had returned to the agency, having forgotten her keys, and Charles and her had been talking for a few minutes while Edwin had spread the table cloth, fixed the flowers, lit the candles and the incense.

“Oh, nothing really”, Charles starts, half chuckling as he pushes a hand through his hair. It musses up his curls and Edwin desperately wants to reach out to fix them. “She asked about the séance, and I tried to explain it, but I don’t think she got it.”

HOW SO?

“Oh, she told me to “just start communicating like adults” or something like that”, he answers, and there is something bashful about it that Edwin doesn’t associate with him at all, something that looks sweet on him and yet feels strange. “Don’t worry your pretty head about it. She just doesn’t understand it.”

LET ME PUT SOME EYELINER ON YOU.

The same request, the same grin on Charles’ pink lips; it’s the sixteenth time he has asked Edwin this, and he wants to refuse out of habit, but he’s been wanting to see that surprise on Charles’s face for so long and maybe Edwin is just tired of waiting.

“Alright, oh noblest of spirits”, Edwin tells him, and the astonishment on Charles’ face was worth the wait and then some.

I’M GLAD I TOLD YOU, Edwin spells and this should be harder to say, should be something he doesn’t want to remind Charles of, but it isn’t. BACK IN HELL.

And he’s right to say it, because Charles’ eyes soften, and he smiles, and Edwin loves him so much he almost tells him again.

“Me too”, Charles answers, and it makes Edwin shiver; Charles moves his left index finger so it is resting on top of Edwin’s. “I’m honoured, even.”

Charles seems to hesitate for a moment, before he starts to move their hands, touching and yet not intertwined like Edwin imagines them being sometimes late at night, when they are wrapped up in companionable silence on their sofa, also touching, but never quite in the way he wants them to.

I THINK I HAVE A NEW FAVOURITE, he spells. POEM, I MEAN.

“Oh?”, Edwin asks, and for some reason it feels like his pulse should quicken, like this should be a confession and not just a statement of facts. Something about Charles’ eyes when he looks up at him again from the planchette, something about the quirk of his lips. “Which one is it?”

THE 2ND ONE YOU READ LAST NIGHT.

The problem is that Edwin has read so many poems over the last months, all to Charles, all on their sofa, almost all with Charles’ feet in his lap, Edwin’s fingers resting on or around his ankle.

So he says, “Oh. I am glad you enjoyed it.”

And vows to look it up afterwards, especially when the look, that strange, intense look doesn’t leave Charles’ face for the rest of the game.

“Can I tell you something?”, Charles asks him, rocking back on his heels, and Edwin is struck again by how much of Charles is just motion, even if it must be the hundredth time he’s noticed it. And how fitting it is, too, since Edwin life had never felt like it was moving, yet in his death, the Universe never seems to have stopped spinning: Charles is the centre of it.

“Of course”, he says easily, and Charles gives him a quick smile that Edwin will treasure like every other one he has ever gotten.

“Like this?”, Charles adds, and puts down the Ouija board in front of Edwin, which he must have been hiding behind his back. It’s a surprise; usually it’s Edwin who uses the barrier the board offers much more than Charles does, and nothing has happened in the last few days that Edwin could imagine rattling Charles so much he feels the need of it.

Yet, he nods immediately, and there is another smile, a little brighter this time.

They set up the candles and the incense and everything else, even if it is Edwin, who is doing most of the work, because Charles seems to be distracted, having to flick the lighter several times to produce a flame. Edwin would be worried, but Charles doesn’t seem scared, doesn’t seem to be hurt, just seems… distracted.

He sits down as soon as Edwin puts the planchette on the board, his fingers finding it like they have been itching for it.

“You ready?”, he wants to know, and Edwin has to stop himself from asking what is happening, instead just sits and nods, placing his fingers delicately next to Charles’, making sure they touch just so.

“What do want to tell me, noble spirit?”, he starts, and hasn’t even finished the words before the planchette is moving; Charles is looking at it intently, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his plush lips, and Edwin would be mesmerised by it, if he didn’t have to know what Charles wants to tell him so desperately.

I REALLY WANT TO FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU.

Edwin doesn’t have to breathe and yet the words suck the air right of the room; he doesn’t have to drink and yet his lips and throat are dry; he doesn’t have a heart that beats and yet it stops.

There are no thoughts left in his mind, but when he looks up from where their fingers are touching, Charles is already looking at him, eyes wide and earnest and almost pleading; he’s not scared, he’s not hurt, he’s… excited. This is Charles before an adventure, Charles packing his backpack and ready to leave, only waiting for Edwin to stop fussing, Charles like he always is, in motion, in flux, in the centre of Edwin’s universe.

Are you certain?, Edwin should ask, but he won’t insult him like this; Charles would never say something so momentous if he hadn’t put the thought into it before.

“Okay”, he says instead, and still feels breathless, feels starved for any additional kind of love Charles might give him that he hasn’t been allowed to taste before. “Brills. How do we- how do you want to start?”

A smile blooms on Charles’ face that rivals the sun, the stars, the candles illuminating the single most important being in Edwin’s life, and he shrugs. Their fingers press together a little more, although Edwin isn’t certain who of them moved them.

I DON’T KNOW, Charles writes, and Edwin isn’t certain what his heart is doing within his chest, only knows that it is bright and warm and overwhelming, that it is the closest he’s ever gotten to Heaven. I THINK I’VE ALREADY STARTED WITHOUT YOU.

And if possible, his smile gets brighter still, happier, and Edwin’s heart is pressing against his ribs, trying to escape them so Edwin can lay it at Charles’ feet and ask him to take care of it.

“Alright”, he says, and doesn’t know how he is still speaking, how he is having a single thought. “Then, what do we do?”

Charles hesitates for a moment, and Edwin needs the reprieve, because he would have been happy with loving Charles from the little bit of distance between them, would have taken every word and every touch and every glance and treasured them without ever asking for more. And yet, here is Charles, the sun behind his eyes, saying that he has already started loving Edwin back. That he wants to do so even more.

The planchette moves, and it’s the only thing that breaks Edwin out of his reverie, because whatever Charles wants to say, he needs to listen to.

KISS?

And maybe Edwin doesn’t have to listen after all, because the word buries itself into his very soul, digging itself so deep into his mind he’ll never think of anything else again, because -

He is nodding before he can comprehend the motion, and for a moment, Charles just looks at him, happy and still excited and maybe, just maybe, a little loving, and it’s all the warning Edwin gets.

There are lips on his, and they are soft and warm, and Edwin doesn’t even have the mind to consider the feeling of them, because Charles is kissing him and Charles is kissing him and Charles is kissing him.

A hand cradles Edwin’s cheek and tilts his head just so, and then Charles kisses him differently, his tongue teasing at Edwin’s lips until he parts them, and it’s bliss, it’s Heaven, it’s everything Edwin never thought he would deserve.

Edwin does his best to kiss back, and Charles sucks in a breath they do not need, before he kisses him with even more fervour, making a sound at the back of his throat that Edwin drinks down like it is ambrosia.

It lasts forever and it lasts no time at all, and when they part, Charles leans his forehead against Edwin’s, so that they would be sharing air between them, would share their very breaths.

“Definitely started without you”, Charles whispered into that hallowed space between their lips, and there is laughter in his voice, there are tears.

“I did, too”, Edwin replies, and knows that he sounds just the same.

Their hands, still resting on the planchette, are intertwined, and without looking down, Edwin knows they’ll stay that way forever, now.

______

Here's the two poems mentioned: First Memory by Louise Glück Like Air by Laura Hershey (and yes, Charles meant this to be a love confession, but unfortunately not even Edwin's brain is big enough to retain all poems he has ever read.)

[stillness-in-green]

Counting Cliffhangers: The Heroes Are Not the Underdogs in BNHA's War Arcs

(Being a project to tally up which side, if either, of Team Hero or Team Villain is "on top" at the end of each chapter in the war arcs, in consideration of the impact of the overall totals. This is one of those mega-long list posts; do not click the Expand/Read More unless you're prepared for a lot of reading and/or scrolling.)

One of the things that bothered me throughout both of the war arcs was the persistent sense that, for all that the manga was trying very hard to convince me that the Heroes were up against the wall and really having to give it everything they had, I never really felt that level of danger.  Of course, one always expects a degree of that—it’s not as though any sensible reader would really think this manga could end with the Villains winning!—but the problem went beyond that.  Expecting that the protagonist will win out in the end is the standard, after all, but good stories still find ways to keep readers engaged and believing in the stakes.

So why didn’t I?  I certainly believed in the stakes for the Villains—Twice’s death happens very early in the first war, and it sets the stakes quite clearly!  Was it just the difference between my own engagement with the Villains compared to the Heroes?  That didn’t seem quite right—even if I cared about one side for more than the other, it shouldn’t have been the case that that affection alone was skewing my suspension of disbelief about the dangers faced by the Heroes.  The threat posed to Midnight certainly seemed real enough, as was also the case for the Heroes left trampled in Gigantomachia’s wake, like Gang Orca and Fatgum.  As I’ve had to tell the occasional asker here before, just because I don’t particularly care about a character doesn’t mean I become incapable of evaluating their story beats!

What was the problem, then?  Why did the dangers to the Villains seem so desperately real, while the dangers to the Heroes, for the most part, just had me rolling my eyes and waiting for the next asspull that would save them?

I think there are two primary factors.  The first and biggest factor is simply baked into the worldbuilding and the decisions made in the writing: the sides are poorly matched.  I’m not going to go into all of that here, but as a thought exercise, go through the arcs of the story that contain active conflict and consider which side has the advantage in each of the following categories: individual combatant quality (stuff like raw power, endurance, and training/experience to improve upon their inherent capabilities), equipment quality, information about the opponent, ability to set the terms of engagement, and raw numbers of warm bodies to throw at a fight. 

By my measure, much of the early confrontations in BNHA work because these advantages are divided evenly between the Heroes and Villains.  Likewise, My Villain Academia is so gripping because the Meta Liberation Army has virtually every advantage over the League, making the League really and truly feel like the underdogs in the fight.  Conversely, the Heroes are the ones with virtually every advantage in the war arcs,[1] meaning they cannot convincingly be the underdogs the story so desperately wants us to believe they are.

1:  I swear I’m not going to go into all of it, at least not in this post, but to be very brief, I think the only advantages the Villains could even kind of claim during the war arcs are numbers and combatant quality.  The numbers advantage is mostly illusory; the PLF are leveled in the cursory mass arrest of the first war and, despite repeated insistence otherwise, the only place where the Villains’ numbers are a true threat in the second war is at the hospital attack, where said numbers consist chiefly of untrained and easily swayed civilians in a battle it’s desperately unclear why the Heroes allowed to take place at all.  The quality advantage, meanwhile, is heavily concentrated in only a handful of hard-hitting, A-to-S-rank threats on the Villains’ side, while the Heroes maintain clear quality supremacy in rank-and-file or side character battles.

The other factor, and the one this post concerns, is the structure of the chapters themselves, to wit, the way that they end.  In a serialized story being published and read week to week, each installment’s ending is a crucial factor in the story’s overall tone.  What happens on the last page is a major factor in the impact each chapter makes, the feeling the reader is left with while they wait for the next part.  If the intent, therefore, is for the Heroes to feel threatened, pushed to the very edge of their endurance, then a very basic thing needs to be observed: don’t end every fucking chapter with the Heroes having the fucking advantage.

I’m so serious here, guys.  It’s not that the Villains never have the advantage, never get twists or reveals or reinforcements that turn the tide of the battle in their favor.  It’s that, by and large, those advantages come in the middle of chapters, while the Heroes’ twists and reveals and reinforcements get the benefit of being at the end of chapters, so the dominant feeling—the side that’s left wildly cheering for their “team” at the end of the week—is usually the Heroes.  While it’s possible that the impression left is different when reading the story in volume form,[2] when reading week to week, that imbalance critically damages the story’s ability to portray the desperation and strain of the Heroes’ struggle.

2: Having not read the arcs in this fashion, I couldn't say. Obviously I don't know how a volume-only reader would experience this aspect of the story, but even reading (or rereading) a bunch of chapters all in one go online suffers from some impaired momentum between chapters by having to specifically navigate to the next chapter webpage and wait for it to load rather than just being able to turn pages freely.

That, in any case, was my thesis when I first started this count, listing which side has the upper hand at the end of each chapter of the two war arcs, as well as the total overall.  With the second war arc finally having ended, I figured I’d go ahead and post my results. 

Hit the jump!

For each arc, I started counting at the chapter where active conflict breaks out, including as a dramatic end cliffhanger.  Thus, for the first war, I didn’t start in Chapter 258, where the groups are still gathering, but rather in Chapter 259, when the forward momentum begins and the first Villain (Ujiko) is confronted.  Likewise, the second war count begins with Chapter 343, when the armies confront each other.  The counts end with the last chapter containing active Hero/Villain conflict rather than narrated montage.  Thus, the first war ends in 295, when AFO and the League flee the field, not in 296 with the looming threat of the long-awaited jailbreak.  The second war ends with Deku’s weather-clearing fist in 423.

My basic categories are Hero Advantage, Villain Advantage, and Neither.  Fake-outs are categorized as they are perceived in the moment of reading them, not as they read in retrospect.  Further, I do not categorize based on the overall tenor of the chapter, but only the impact of the final page.  This is by nature somewhat subjective, but I’ve done my best to call them as I think they’re meant to be read.

What is the feeling the reader takes with them into the next chapter?  Excitement for the heroes?  Dismay and fear?  A simmering tension?  Which side, if either, got the HELL YEAH HELL YEAH fist-pump?  If there's a relative clear answer, I'll call it for one side of the other; chapters that end with no particular new reveals, arrivals, power-ups, or other such shifts in the tides with be called as neither.

Finally, for ease of tracking and reading, my tallies and accompanying brief explanations are separated by volume. I'll provide totals for each category at the end of each volume, and full totals, as well as a total count for which category the volumes end in, at the end of the arcs. Final counts and commentary will close the post.

Let's get started.

FIRST WAR ARC

Volume 27: 259: Hero Advantage.  Endeavor and company confront (apparently) Ujiko, catching him completely flat-footed.

260: Hero.  Mirko crashes into Ujiko’s lab, to his horror, and kills John-chan in doing so.

261: Neither.  Mirko and the High Ends square up for their Round 2.

262: Hero.  The Villa gets cracked open like an egg, catching its inhabitants entirely off-guard.

263: Hero.  If they were on more level footing, I’d call this Neither, but given the positions Hawks and Twice end the chapter in, and the clear difference in emotional preparedness, this one goes to the Heroes.

264: Neither.  The Hawks/Twice fight continues inconclusively; Dabi is revealed to be on his way, but has not yet arrived on-scene to affect any changes.

265: Villain.  Dabi makes a strong and, for Hawks, unexpected entrance, pinning Hawks beneath his boot.

266: Neither.  Twice dies, which is a huge hit to the Villains, but the narrative sympathy is so clearly with Twice and Toga that it’s impossible to describe the chapter as ending on a fist-pumping note for anyone.

267: Hero.  Doubly so, as Endeavor and Tokoyami both show up to intervene in fights that were about to go to the villains, but we'll be fair and only count it as one anyway.

                   Heroes 5 | Villains 1 | Neither 3 | Total 9     

Volume 28: 268: Neither.  Basement action.  The tube gets cracked; Aizawa and Mic are told not to let Shigaraki wake up.  Nothing conclusive.

269: Hero Advantage.  Literally ends with Ujiko wailing that the Lord of Evil’s dream is over.

270: Villain.  It ends with Deku getting a warning about Shigaraki, which makes it a bit borderline, but Shigaraki being awake at all has to count for the Villains.

271: Villain.  Gigantomachia stands up.

272: Neither.  The kids start rallying against the Decay wave.  Deku gets a new move that doesn’t seem like it should have any effect but is played as being effective.  Shigaraki’s Decay wave is being monstrously effective, even apocalyptic, but the tone of the last page is ambiguous.

273: Neither.  Shigaraki faces off with Endeavor.  Both are known factors on this field of battle.

274: Neither.  Deku is on the move in hopes of leading Shigaraki to a more deserted area.

275: Hero.  Aizawa arrives at the Shigaraki fight, locking down his quirk use.

276: Hero.  Deku and Bakugou arrive in time to save Aizawa from what likely would have been the same kind of blow that will later cost him his eye.

                   Heroes 3 | Villains 2 | Neither 4 | Total 9     

Volume 29: 277: Neither.  Mount Lady attempts to stop Gigantomachia.  Results inconclusive; both known factors.

278: Neither.  Leans a bit Hero side because it’s Momo dramatically getting her head on straight, but it’s really just more preparations for a face-off.

279: Hero Advantage.  The League is getting swarmed and Mina is on the brink of delivering what’s framed as a knock-out blow to Machia.

280: Neither.  Shigaraki laboriously gathers himself, preparing to monologue.

281: Villain.  Shigaraki readies a quirk-destroying bullet with Aizawa’s name on it.

282: Villain.  Gigantomachia, who is very much not knocked out,  looms over an unsuspecting city.

283: Hero.  Deku negates the (immediate) danger of Decay by activating Float.

284: Hero.  Deku lands a full-power blow on Shigaraki, who’s been largely unable to fend him off in the air.

285: Villain.  It pains me to grant this because I knew good and well Bakugou would be completely fine.  But he is a major combatant and face for the Hero side and this is clearly intended to look like it will take him out, at least for the fight.

                   Heroes 3 | Villains 3 | Neither 3 | Total 9     

Volume 30: 286: Hero Advantage.  The action moves to the vestige realm.  Very borderline, but Nana’s words are definitive: “Let us handle this.”  The implication is very much that there’s no need to fear because the vestiges have got this.

287: Neither.  Chapter ends with Toga reflecting on heroes and the weight they give to the lives of Villains.  Could represent a major turning point for Toga, but it’s still soft-pedaled by making that turning point dependent on a Hero’s yet-unspoken words.

288: Neither.  Chapter ends mid-dialogue in the Toga/Ochaco fight.

289: Villain.  Machia and his passengers arrive.

290: Villain.  A little borderline because the actual very last panel is the plane containing Best Jeanist, but the audience doesn’t know that yet, and the bulk of the final page is dedicated the devastation of the Touya Reveal, so I have to give this one to them.

291: Hero.  Best Jeanist arrives.

292: Hero.  Mirio arrives with his quirk restored.

293: Hero.  Machia goes down because the sedative finally kicks in.

294: Villain.  Mr. Compress backstory reveal and big escape moment.

295: Neither.  The battle ends save for the wrap-up.  The villains are neither victorious nor defeated.

                   Heroes 4 | Villains 3 | Neither 3 | Total 10

FIRST WAR TOTAL: Heroes 15 | Villains 9 | Neither 13 | Total 37 Volume End Advantage Count: Heroes 2  |  Villains 1  |  Neither 1

                       

SECOND WAR ARC

Volume 35: 343: Hero Advantage.  The Heroes counter AFO’s army by “unexpectedly” whipping out their own via Warp Gate.

344: Hero.  The Heroes take the offensive and split up the villains’ army.

345: Villain.  Toga lassos Deku through a gate, separating him from the field he’s supposed to be on.

346: Villain.  The beginning of Fingervetr.

347: Neither.  Borderline because it’s a big dramatic page of Toga, but it’s more conversational then confrontational to me, and isn’t revealing anything particularly new.

348: Neither.  Deku flees the island, leaving Toga to Ochaco.

349: Neither.  Dabi gears up to provide the answers Shouto has specifically asked for.

350: Neither.  Dabi’s coming on strong, but Shouto remains undaunted.  I’d give it to the Villains if the last page were Dabi liquidating the All Might statue, though.

                   Heroes 2 | Villains 2 | Neither 4 | Total 8                    

Volume 36: 351: Hero Advantage.  Shouto unleashes Phosphor.

352: Hero.  Shouto appears to beat Dabi.

353: Neither.  AFO is talking a lot, but not about anything groundbreaking.

354: Neither.  AFO and Jirou exchange smacktalk.

355: Hero.  Hawks and Jirou combine efforts to break AFO’s mask.

356: Neither.  Endeavor has a big moment, but AFO gets his hands up in time to block and is still shown intact at the end of the chapter.  Borderline, but I’d say not quite definitive enough to qualify it for the hero side.

357: Villain.  AFO regenerates.  A little borderline because it actually ends with Deku, and the approach of what I guessed at the time were the American jets, but I think it’s a similar enough scenario as the end of Chapter 270 to call it for the Villains as well.

358: Neither.  No impact from the Hero attack leaves it a little unclear how much effect it will have, and a new attack is not a big enough game changer for me to really count it even unproven.  It’d be easy to call it for the Heroes, though.

359: Hero.  Return of the Big Three.

360: Hero.  Bakugou’s in rough shape, but there’s a hint that he’s noticed something important, which could foreshadow a change in the tides of the battle.

361: Hero.  Suneater’s Chimera Cannon, which certainly looks incredibly hype and impressive in the moment.

362: Villain.  Bakugou’s “death.”

                   Heroes 6 | Villains 2 | Neither 4 | Total 12                    

Volume 37: 363: Villain Advantage.  AFO finishes regenerating; full face reveal.

364: Hero.  The impossibly moronic Edgeshot-as-Bakugou’s-heart business.  Not conclusive, but it steals one of the Villains’ victories out from under from them.

365: Villain.  A shift in Inner Tenko’s emotional state heralds Shigaraki’s next form.

366: Hero.  Deku arrives at the Sky Coffin.

367: Neither.  Deku attempts conversation to ask about Shigaraki’s status.

368: Hero.  Deku lands a full-power hit on ShigAFO while Yoichi talks to his big brother about letting this being the day that their battle ends.

369: Villain.  A scene change to Spinner that’s timed in such a way that it could really only foreshadow Spinner’s victory.

370: Neither.  It’s very close to a Hero call, but mostly what Shouji’s doing is shaking off mundane attackers and making a dramatic proclamation.  Not quite enough direct impact for an end-of-chapter Hero Advantage.

371: Neither.  Even closer than the last one, but neither blow the kids are gearing up for actually connect on-page.  I wouldn’t fault anyone who called it for the Heroes, though.

372: Neither.  An extremely effective cliffhanger, for once, as Spinner and Mic call out to Kurogiri simultaneously.

373: Villain.  Kurogiri gets up, calling himself the protector of Shigaraki Tomura.

374: Villain.  Toga deploys Sad Man’s Death Parade; Hawks proves he hasn’t learned jack shit from the last time he faced this question.

                   Heroes 3 | Villains 5 | Neither 4 | Total 12                    

Volume 38: 375: Hero Advantage.  Toga’s narrative-destined rival manages to follow her off the island and to the Villa ruins.  Close to a Neither call.

376: Neither.  Setting up a Dabi/Endeavor clash with Endeavor not caught on the back foot.

377: Hero.  Return of La Brava.

378: Hero.  Return of Lady Nagant.

379: Neither.  Sets up a reengaged clash between Shigaraki and Deku.

380: Hero.  Arrival of Shiketsu.

381: Hero.  Tokoyami lands a blow that AFO is explicitly afraid to get hit with.

382: Hero.  Shinsou and Kirishima arrive with a brainwashed Gigantomachia.

383: Neither.  Reiterates that AFO is in trouble, but it’s not new information, and the choppers coming in at the very end are an unpredictable element.

384: Hero.  The choppers are full of Hero-supporting journalists here to tell the world how incredibly hard-working and earnest and admirable Heroes are.  Gag.

385: Neither.  AFO’s belated but impressive show of force gets dampened somewhat by the Heroes refusing to give in, and even getting one of their number back.  It’s back and forth, but Stain really tips it for good over to a neutral chapter ending.  While he’s obviously not aligned with the Villains, he’s far too murderous to chalk him up as a Hero yet, either, especially on-scene watching two kids he tried to kill last time he saw them.

386: Hero.  All Might gets a cool robot suit and the last-page chapter title drop references his iconic catchphrase.

                   Heroes 8 | Villains 0 | Neither 4 | Total 12                    

Volume 39: 387: Hero Advantage.  Rei is, of course, a civilian, not a hero, but she’s clearly aligned on the Team Good Guy, so I have to give it to them.  It’s not a hill I’d die on, however, particularly with the very last panel being the flashback to Touya emphasizing Rei’s culpability.

388: Neither.  What a nice vision of hell as everyone burns to death, including Dabi.  If I gave it to anyone, I’d lean Villain, because it’s certainly more in line with what Dabi wants—what he’s always wanted.  But in terms of impact on the reader, it certainly isn’t going to get anyone whooping and cheering for the Villains.

389: Neither.  It’s a good last few pages of Shouto and Iida, but the reader already knows they’re on their way, so it’s not a pleasant surprise to see them enroute.  The fact that they are still enroute rather than dramatically arriving to save the day keeps this from being a full Hero moment ending.

390: Neither.  Teasing more of the fight between Toga and Uraraka, but no sudden turns, new elements, or grand statements on either side.

391: Neither.  Ongoing fight; while Ochaco gets the stirring line, the actual last page is Toga lashing out.

392: Villain.  While I’m loathe to give it to them on the basis of an injury I was not for one second actually worried about, the chapter does end with Toga putting a knife into Uraraka’s gut and a flashback to Twice asking Toga about a Villain name.  A clear Villain-upper-hand ending.

393: Hero.  Ochaco comes through with flying colors, getting a quirk awakening and making Toga an offer she’s dreamed of her whole life.

394: BOTH.  For literally the first time in this whole count, I can’t count this against either side.  If pressed, I’d call it a Hero win, but it’s a win because it validates both sides.

395: Neither.  Sorry, gang.  I’m utterly incapable of calling this one in an unbiased way.  It’s an all-too-real death scare for Toga and, regardless of how happy she is in the moment, I can’t call her potential death a victory.  But since Ochaco obviously feels the same, it’s not a Hero win, either.

396: Hero.  And get ready, ‘cause there're about to be a whole lot of them.  Good god, but I hate this All Mech sequence.

397: Neither.  Ongoing battle, no major tides turning in the final page.

398: Neither.  As above.

                   Heroes 3 | Villains 1 | Neither 7 | Both 1 | Total 12                    

Volume 40: 399: Hero Advantage.  The big turn-around with Aoyama, with All Might dropping the Aoyama-themed laser of AFO.

400: Hero.  Stain’s return.  Stain’s a Villain himself, but far too aligned with Hero orthodoxy for me to count him returning to help All Might as anything but a Hero-side victory.

401: Neither.  All Might’s still kicking, AFO is within range of Shigaraki, but nothing decisive deployed on the final page.

402: Neither.  To all appearances, All Might continues to shovel more battle damage onto AFO.  There’s a death threat in the explosion, one I don’t think I took very seriously at the time, though plenty of others did.  Left to my own devices, I’d call it for Team Hero, but I’ll err on the side of restraint and call it a hero equivalent of Toga’s death threat.

403: Hero.  Unequivocal Hero victory—Bakugou’s back up.

404: Hero.  Saving All Might with the literal power of prayer.

405: Hero.  If I wanted to be snide, I’d point out that Final Boss is definitionally a Villain role, so Bakugou enthusiastically claiming it for himself implicates Heroes as having been the Villains all along, while the Villains are the clear heroic underdogs struggling against a corrupt, violent system.  But that’s just my bitterness making me perverse; this is a clear Hero victory.

406: Neither.  Exchanging of smack talk, Bakugou gets a good but not definitive hit in.

407: Neither.  AFO’s flashback ends with one of the most crushing emotional defeats of his life, but you can hardly call AFO slice-and-dicing Yoichi a Hero win, either.

408: Neither.  AFO’s going all-out, but Bakugou remains undaunted.

409: Hero.  AFO’s effective defeat at Bakugou’s hands.  Yoichi’s regretful glance is not enough to shift the needle.

410: Villain.  Shigaraki does what the narrative has long been warning that he can and steals a portion of One For All, grabbing Danger Sense for himself and stealing Shinomori from the OFA collective.

                   Heroes 6 | Villains 1 | Neither 5 | Total 12                    

Volume 41: 411: Neither.  Deku’s readying an offensive that gives Shigaraki lots of Danger Sense tinglies, but nothing definitive.

412: Neither.  The temptation is strong to call this for the Hero side, as it’s the moment Kudou formulates the plan that will soon be leading to Shigaraki’s ultimate defeat, but the caveat that the plan requires losing One For All kiboshes that feeling very triumphant.

413: Hero.  There’s some nominal sadness for Deku gearing up to lose OFA, but the tone here is much more about how great and awesome Deku is for being willing to do it, on top of how incredibly fucking rad the art plainly wants us to think that he looks.

414: Hero.  I’d normally call it Neither for lacking new elements or definitive actions, but I have to acknowledge the sheer disparity between, on the one hand, the vestiges telling Deku that it’s working and to keep going as Deku gears up to unleash another punch while, on the other hand, all Shigaraki can manage is huddling in on himself and choking out a few pained grunts.

415: Neither.  Borderline in that Eri is a clear Hero-side ally with an absolutely game-changing power, but the truth is that she’s at U.A. with no immediately clear way to make it to the battle even if anyone were to let her go, so it’s not too different from any other chapter that ended with a major player en route but not yet arriving.

416: Hero.  Deku finally breaks into Shigaraki’s inner mind, over Shigaraki’s protestations.

417: Neither.  Deku and Nana make a major breakthrough, but Shigaraki’s backstory yet has terrible bombs to drop.  I can’t call it a Villain advantage, though, because it’s still stuff Shigaraki very much does not want Deku meddling with.

418: Villain.  AFO returns yet again, spoiling Deku’s hard-won moment of equilibrium and understanding with Shigaraki.

419: Hero.  We can’t even get a week to savor/freak out over Deku losing his arms because the actual last beat of the chapter is Aizawa bringing in a pair of classmates via Kurogiri’s warp gate, suggesting (albeit inaccurately) that Kurogiri has settled as a Hero ally.

420: Hero.  More of the above and Deku gets his arms back after a world-shakingly relevant and momentous chapter and a half.

421: Hero.  All around Hero support, now including from civilians too.

422: Hero.  More of the above and now Deku’s punching Shigaraki at the end of it under a chapter title of Midoriya Izuku Rising.

423: Hero.  Deku’s triumphantly raised fist clears storm clouds, changes the weather, and kills the man he was trying to save.  This is framed as a victory anyway.

                   Heroes 8 | Villains 1 | Neither 4 | Total 13

SECOND WAR TOTAL: Heroes 36 | Villains 12 | Neither 32 | BOTH 1 | Total 81 Volume Count Total: Heroes 2 | Villains 3 | Neither 2

                   

TOTAL CHAPTER COUNT FOR BOTH WAR ARCS: 118 CHAPTERS Final Page Hero Advantage: 51 Final Page Villain Advantage: 21 Final Page Neither: 45 Final Page Both: 1

Total Volume Count: 11 Volumes Last Page Hero Advantage: 4 Last Page Villain Advantage: 4 Last Page Neither: 3

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

Now, you could (and I might) write a whole different post about the unbalanced strategic advantages that I discussed at the beginning of the post, but I think this breakdown also serves to illustrate the scope of the problem with raw numbers (percentages rounded off a bit such that they total to neat 100s).

In the first war, 40.5% of the chapters end with the Heroes on the upswing, 35% have no clear advantage, and only 24.5% end with the Villains waxing triumphant. Despite Hawks reflecting at the end of My Villain Academia about how the Paranormal Liberation Front was a power on par with, or possibly even greater than, that of Hero Society, the numbers don't really back that up. Instead, Heroes have the advantage over half again as often as Villains do, and even the uncertain chapters are still more numerous.

The second war is worse—much worse. Hero Advantage chapters account for nearly half of the arc at 44.5%, while chapters where Neither side clears account for the bulk of the remaining chapters at 39.5%. Only 15% of the chapters, well under a quarter, are Villain Advantage. For an endgame that wants to be about "saving Villains," only one single chapter (1%) ends with something you could credibly call both sides winning.

Now, of course, the second war is the climax of the whole series, so of you might say that of course the Heroes are going to ultimately do better. They have to win in the end, after all, so of course the arc will eventually feature mostly Hero victories.

I would counter that, while that is true, the story repeatedly tries to convince us that the Heroes are really struggling, that they've lost so many people, that they're at this huge disadvantage that neccessitates the extreme measures they use. And the numbers simply don't back that up, even less than they did in the first war!

If you look at the totals for each volume, Heroes have a wild advantage in two of the first four volumes (the arc is seven volumes in total), numbers the Villains never come close to meeting. There's one volume (the third, Volume 37) where they have the majority of the chapter-ending advantages, and even there, it's a narrow margin. Volume 38 is then a blow-out with not a single Villain Advantage chapter cliffhanger in the whole book, and in the final three volumes of the arc, the Villains get exactly one Advantage chapter per volume.

Not very convincing numbers, if the aim is to convince the reader of how much Plus Extra effort the Heroes are going to have to exert, if you ask me!

Between them, Hero Advantage and Neither chapters make up a shocking 81% of the two war arcs, with merely 18%, less than fifth, of the chapters ending on Villain Advantage beats that could serve to freshly drum up, "Our heroes are really in trouble now!" anxiety.

Looking back to what I said about the Heroes having the bulk of the strategic advantages for both arcs, that surely can't be all that surprising. You can't expect a set-up that slanted to leave much room at all for Villains to get time to shine; they simply don't have the room in the story for that when, for everything they try, the Heroes already have some countermeasure.

As a final comparison, remember I praised MVA back at the start for being gripping in large part because the "Heroes" of that arc, the League of Villains, were at such a disadvantage?

I briefly ran the numbers there, and I'd say, of nineteen chapters that contain active confrontation of some sort between the League and an antagonistic force (Gigantomachia, Ujiko, and the MLA), the League have the chapter-ending advantage beat in four of those chapters: Toga's victory in 226, Twice overcoming his mental block and starting to replicate himself in 229, and the two chapters covering Shigaraki's ultimate victory over Re-Destro, 238 and 239. That's a grand total of 20% "Hero" Advantage chapters for them, and half of those are the arc climax chapters.

The "Villains" for the arc likewise have the ending advantage in 20% of the arc, four chapters: Machia having comprehensively whipped the League at the end of 419, RD making the League an offer they can't refuse in 223, Skeptic pushing all of Twice's buttons in 228, and RD plucking off Shigaraki's fingers in 233.

The remaining eleven chapters—60%—go to the Neither category. Compare that back to the percentages for the war arcs, and you can see that, while the Villain Advantage percentage is similar (~5% higher in the first war and likewise lower in the second), the Hero Advantage is twice the percentage (40+%) in both arcs, while the Neither chapters are accordingly lower (the war arcs are 35% and ~40% Neither respectively).

In other words, the Heroes in the war arcs just straight-up have more chapter-ending awesome moments and reveals, and spend less time facing chapter-ending uncertainty, compared to not just the Villains they're fighting in those arcs, but also compared to what those same Villains got when they were being Heroes for an arc.

And to think, Horikoshi wants me to think his Heroes are being challenged. Pull the other one, Sensei; it's got bells on.

(I welcome anyone else to run similar numbers with e.g. the trainng camp attack or the Hassaikai base raid. For myself, I'm too sleepy to figure out a better ending for this post, so I'm just turning out the lights and hitting the sack. Sorry if there's any formatting wigginess or the closing analysis is lacking; I will clean it up later if need be.)

[bakubunny]

Omg headcannons on potty training with daddy Katsuki or kirishima🥹

alright this one has been in my inbox for at least a month because i’ve touched on this subject more than once with both of these characters, and i genuinely didn’t feel like i had anything new or good to add. but this morning i’m feeling good about it, so i’ll give it a shot. if you’ve been around a while and this feels a little redundant, sorry!

going with kirishima on this one, but i’ll touch a lil bit on bakugo at the start.

tw: aged up characters (25+), f!reader, heavy age play, piss play, potty training, diaper/pull-up wearing, daddy as title, sort of dark content

okay, so… bakugo. i don’t often head canon him as the potty training type. piss play definitely and diaper/pull-up wearing maybe, but how i envision potty training in this kind of context doesn’t really seem like katsuki’s vibe. he’s got a type a personality and could provide the structure for it if you’re really into that. however when i think potty training, i think age play with a personality much more like kirishima, so let’s get into it.

here’s the thing about kirishima. i genuinely believe kiri in his late 20’s doesn’t have zero boundaries, but he will try almost anything once. he’ll be excited about it, and daddy!kiri is no exception.

let’s say that you’re the one who brings it up. he’s of course hesitant and has a lot of questions, as i think most people would, but the more you explain what you’re wanting to do and get out of it, the more he relaxes and thinks it might not be so bad.

he’s got sticker charts, rewards, and maybe even little games you play when he takes you to the bathroom. idk it just feels right.

i can’t get the image out of my head of kiri sitting down with you and explaining how your body works, how to use the potty, teaching you how to ask daddy for help and what daddy will do when he helps you in the bathroom, etc. in a soft, sweet tone of voice with a warm smile. you can’t convince me he wouldn’t be all over that.

he’ll also teach you what to say when it’s an emergency, and what happens when ‘accidents’ happen. i don’t think he’d make it a punishable thing unless you asked him to just on the basis that punishing anyone for an accident irl doesn’t make sense.

“…and what does princess say if she wants to be big and go potty without daddy’s help?…what do you say if you want daddy to stop?…that’s right pretty girl, good job.” is kiri’s way of asking you to confirm what the safe words are without breaking scene. i swear to you.

sometimes he’ll let you put on your pull-up like a big girl. but if you make a mess on yourself, daddy!kiri always has to be the one to change you. :( but he’ll be sweet abt it. if you’ve been extra good he might even kiss your thighs a little bit when he’s done.

kiri has to do everything when he takes you to the bathroom. he undoes your clothes and sits you down. then he crouches down and rub your thighs a little while he encourages you to, “be a good girl and go potty for daddy, sweetie. just relax and let it out….” then he cleans you up, redresses you, and he even washes your hands in his own to make sure yours get clean.

specifically because we’re talking potty training, i think he’d have disposable pull-ups for and eventually pretty training undies for when you’re doing a good job and on your way to ‘big girl undies.’ but if you’re really having some big ‘setbacks,’ he might go all the way back to diapers and diaper covers. :(

full on uses the bed as a changing table, too. he’s always got the nightstand fully stocked and ready to go.

if y’all get into that kind of thing long term, kiri might talk with you about getting your own training seat/training potty that’s all your own so you can be just like daddy.

@dcsiremc bc i felt like u might like this one