#idk if the box is going to be exhibited

[sosnastudios]

and here’s the box they go in

i used duo cloth and i hot stamped the label on salmon parchment i made

[dullahandyke]

life is so good and awesome peace and love on planet earth

[darksigns-exe]

what if the exhibition is a front for an ep release?

[sofipitch]

Thinking about body horror in The Locked Tomb, specifically how the bodies of the dead are treated. Wake's skeleton tilling the fields, using her to feed an empire she hates even in death. Abigail's death not having anything to do with her but more just the inconvenience that she was there, evidenced by Cyth stashing the key in her as if she were a box. Protesilous is particularly good because you meet him as a person after you have seen his corpse used against his consent in the first book. After Cyth tells Palamedes she tossed his girlfriend and her bodyguard in the garbage she says "Don't look at me like I'm a monster". How ppl's remains are treated matter, when Crux threatened Gideon he threatened her with just that, being treated as parts.

I just have specific feelings about dead bodies and how they should be treated. I could never do anything involving cutting them without thinking this was someone's grandmother, or lover, or best friend. I distinctly remember what did this was going to see The Bodies Exhibit where you get to see a lot of preserved organs and such. I thought I would be fine, I was even super excited, I liked anatomy and physiology. But I remember looking at a sagittal cut of a head and torso meant to show off the brain and spinal cord and Idk why but I turned my head side ways and got level with the display and there was the man's face. That horrified me more than anything, his face mostly hidden so you don't remember this was a person. The ppl in this exhibit never consented to be a part of it, they are unidentified persons, no one came to get their body so it meant anyone could do what they wanted with it. Even worse popular myth for a while was that these were the bodies of prisoners, as if that made it okay to treat them with disrespect. There was writing on the wall as we left saying the bodies had been handled with respect but I would never want to be put on display in a museum, so how could we know they didn't feel the same? I also wouldn't want my index finger on display at the Vatican museum. I understand it's meant for worship but there also seems to be something rude in the piecemeal display of saints.

I feel strongly about respect for remains and idk how Muir does but there's something particularly good about Gideon being aware of her remains after death. The argument for a lot of bad treatment of corpses is "the person isn't going to know". So Muir created a character that becomes BOE's body farm experiment, until finally she has to go back into and haunt her corpse, embarrassed at her wounds and the way others can see her meat. Her first interaction is objecting to someone sticking her corpse with a needle, even though she can't feel

[cute-sucker]

No but what do you think younger Rafe is like?? I’m talking like 12 year old Rafe. Do you think he be one of those obnoxious elementary school boys that think they are so cool? Do you think he was a good student or not. I mean he graduated eventually but idk if he would struggle with school or not. Or if he got along well with his sisters at one point? I wanna hear your opinion on this!!

so this ask marinating in my box because i was going to write something long about it but i'm stupid?? so anyways (let me know if y'all want more about this au)

1.) rafe is so obnoxious when he was younger, always up tree tops, diving into the pool, and yelling about how he was the king of the forest. he was always the king of something with his loud voice

2.) he definitely thinks he's so cool, and he hates the way you disregard him with your pretty pink princess dress, and little tiara. you glare at him from distances, and tell him that you'll turn him into a frog

3.) as the two of you grow up, you become more academically focused, not paying attention to the lean rafe who towers over you when you check out books. he comes into the library to make fun of you, and you roll your eyes at him, perfect manicured hands on your math books, and emily bronte

4.) he hates it all, but enjoys the look on your face when you get focused. he hates to admit it but he struggles at school, looking at the pages of the words until they start to move. it gives him a big headache, so who cares about school? but he sees you hanging around the academically smart boys, the ones that know all the answers and decides to crack open a book.

5.) quickly enough when he gives it a try he doesn't figure it out, so instead he asks you to tutor him. you look surprised, looking up at him with his letterman jacket and agree. he looks amused at the way you flush when he asks. maybe he has some sort of effect on you.

6.) the tutoring lessons work so well, and with your soothing gentle voice, and soft hands to guide him the way. suddenly he sees the way you see everything, as if you were the key to it all.

7.) he gets along with his siblings, especially wheezie who's old enough to get teased by him. he's mean to her sometimes, but there is some sort of softness with the two of them, the black sheep of the family. one thing that i feel would happen between them is wheezie forgetting to make a science project, and wobbles over to rafe.

8.) within 1 hour rafe has made a full display for her, his face orange with sticky fingers, hair ablaze. he has a proud dad smile on his face, sneaking into the science exhibition to just look at his sister. wheezie is laughing too, looking up at her big brother with happy eyes.

9.) it all goes downhill when he tries to make a pass at you in tutoring, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. he pulls away thinking that it'll be fine, but you had a suprised expression on your face, "what was that for?" and he smirks, "what do you think?"

10.) you run out after 10 minutes of that encounter, and rafe stands on the sidewalk next to tanyhill watching you pedal away.

he'd just lost the best thing in his life.

[snackugaki]

... my ass actually got like 6+ images deep before realizing i hadn't posted shit-- oops

my tmnt  iteration (where everyone made it past their 20s, splinter’s alive just old, venus is here, and they deserve some goddamn respite and shenanigans)

tmnt  iteration part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10

tmnt  iteration omake 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

lny visit 1 | 2

IDW spoilers below, teeechnically Mirage & Next Mutation spoilers too ig?

blah blah blabbering because that's one of the many things you can do on tumblr.com

bloopity bloopin, turtles all being traded on the black market as pets, medicine, or decor to be... "prepared". 'cept Jennika, keeping her IDW origin because it's badass and I like it. eco vigilantes freed them one fateful night, same night someone(s) stole some mutagen for a rival company to TGRI, boom collided in their getaway routes, away floated Venus just like in NM and some others who lalala may or may not be some mutanimals

playing mostly with coloring, Rise introducing markings is such a nice and refreshing change from the all sam green turtle, different bandana color turtles I grew up with. fanon taking that concept and applying it in conjunction with actual turtle colorings also scratches my visdev brain node just so

hm... still fiddling with their plastrons... Venus' and Jennika's are fine though

Leo

funky li'l ringed map turtle

can't see it but, he got them little ridgey-spikies on his shell

christ, I'm finding a way to attach Iris symbolism to him, either through markings or something else

Iris in hanakotoba is... basically all Leo; nobility, bravery, honor, courage, heavy samurai association

5'2"

Raph

McCord's or Amboina box turtle idk idk idk can't choose

stuck on coloring him with a scale mail feeling to match the box turtle photos I found

....I needa draw him beefier, he can stand to be beefier

5'6"

Donnie

literally just googled which turtles exhibit the highest INT, wood turle consistently listed plus some have funky geometrically patterned/shaped shells

tossing on how do the plastron coloring, really liking the dark spots on it

probably keep the lightened belly/inner limb coloring

...probably... lol idk

5'8"

Mikey

my perfect chonky boy, no notes except he (and his brothers) need plastron do-overs

and now i am stuck with the heart-on-his-sleeve marking

canon 2 my iteration it is done

he gets to be the slider this go round, if just 'cuz he's technically the first born (in terms of creating TMNT and its story and world)

let him have the fluttering, finger drumming on everything and everyone because he's bursting with "i love you" energy anyway

5'4"

Venus

"my pretty daughter" iykyk

sea turtle as per last couple iteration posts

cultivator instead of "shinobi"

"i aM ShiNObi"... guh, just, I dunno, the term "cultivator" wasn't really known back in '98 like that, but she had the medicine box, she worked to learn how to throw a fireball at Vam Mi, she was pleased at her progression when she defeated the counterspell from the staff of Bu Ki. that's cultivator shit right there.

she's still a pugilist more than a iron fan user

looks up to April like a big sister, speaks canto and hakka with her

cuz she's still a linguist scholar like in Next Mutation so duh she speak all the languages (to an extant, she has a lot of studying left to go after all)

the greenified hawksbill coloring is growing on me...

still needa futz more with the plum flower motif on her

also figure out her huadian situation or just scrap it idkidkidk

her bandana + 50% green coloring is also growing on me....

5'10"

Jennika

technically also ringed map turtle since it was Leo who gave her the blood transfusion

I like the idea of bringing her Blaschko's lines to the forefront post-mutation but just... it's a lot of stripes. and goddamnit I ain't even gonna go deep into much of anything with the comics I just... can't not world build rip me

6'0"

April

still so tickled at April being closer to the turtles' ages in these new reboots and fascinated how it's played out

...but mine is a clean 44 yo, so. (turtles in late 30s)

Laird originally conceived April as an asian woman in his notes, Eastman drew her as a biracial woman he was dating at the time (April Fisher) and... idk what to tell y'all, people are running around being mixed in this world all the time, Brooklyn got hella Jamaican/Chinese so there you go

can speak canto and hakka

April being a "weirdo" as I've seen mentioned in Rise can stay, I'm picking that, that's a great trait to her character, big fan of Poly Styrene, loved Rachel True in The Craft

where "weirdo" is just she's into alt subculture and being in New York... she got her hands everywhere in those scenes

She and Chu Hsi get to have the most shoujo fuckin' romance because it's cute

and she's still a living drawing which I'm changing around a bit being why she felt like a "weirdo" and leaned towards subcultures and the turtles, she did eventually begin to destabilize but Venus stabilized her by trapping her in a scroll so she could work on a solution. ...where she has a long, happy relationship with Chu Hsi in the painted world scroll because lol time dilation

saw somewhere on the hellsite that the tooth gap is passed around every iteration... so April gets to have it

5'7"

Irma

i'm not ashamed to say I just reupholstered Nadia from Russian Doll

87 Irma went through a lot so she can have some dry wit and humor and be fly as fuck, big hair, big glasses, and a big attitude

still besties with April

likes moths, they're just neat little guys with rabbit ears iykyk

there is a very specifc size of her hair I am battling to keep consistent the problem it never feels big enough

says "fuhgeddaboutit" and has yelled that she is, in fact, "walkin' here,"

... she might also have a little bit of Myrtle from AHS: Coven sprinkled in now that I'm thinking about it to sum her up

she knows somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody for any random thing you could want to try to find

all the delis and bodegas know her

discusses plot lines from soap operas with Splinter on weekends, they get heated

5'5"

... god all this and I was just gonna have them play spades and play a round of pickup street ball in silly little comics

[be-your-coffee-pot]

Needed (Part 2)

A/N: I FINALLY COMPLETED THIS OH MY FUCKING GOD YES. The long-awaited Needed part 2 is finally here people. I really hope yall like it. Love ya

Pairing: Dad!Harry x Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k (Idk what happened here)

TW: MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM AND SUICIDE, IT GETS A BIT DESCRIPTIVE. PARENTAL NEGLECT AND HEAVY TOPICS PLEASE DON’T READ IF IT CAN TRIGGER YOU.

READ PART 1, here

______________________________________________________________

Wait. 

We like neither the action nor the word in general. It’s excruciating to just have to rely on your gut and your anxiety-riddled mind for information because, as humans, we tend to overthink just about anything we do.

In context to Harry’s situation, waiting for the doctor to appear and announce if his daughter was alive or not was fucking with his head, to say the least.

“Momma! When is dada coming home? I made sunflowers for him. I know he’ll love them !” Taylor looked over at her 6-year-old daughter, proudly holding a pretty sunflower field. She smiles, “Yes, he will, sweetie.” Then she goes back to reading Roald Dahl to Charlotte while Ethan entertains himself with his science homework. Y/N doesn’t mind her mom; instead, she gushes about her painting to herself. 

When Harry does come home, she runs towards him to exhibit her sunflowers, hoping that he would like them, but Harry just glances down at her and half-heartedly smiles. “Nice thing.” 

He doesn’t wait to see how her face falls and how she struggles to hold back tears as he rushes to her siblings and smiles so wide when Charlotte explains that she and her mother were reading a new book together.

Y/N sniffled softly, padding over to where Taylor had plated the food. At least the dinner was of her liking.

__________________________________________

Harry’s mind was occupied with all the times he had ignored his eldest child. Those moments were now coming back to bite him in the ass.

She’s 11 years old. 

A race is taking place for her grade, and all the parents are invited. Everybody takes a seat, and the children take their place. “On your marks! Ready, set, go!”

She gives it her all. She runs so fast that day that she even astonishes herself as she breaks the ribbon. Her eyes are frantically jumping from person to person, trying to identify one of them as her mother or father, but no. 

When she dejectedly returns home that evening, she finds that the reason for their absence is Ethan. Harry looked infinitely proud, holding his son in his lap. Charlotte and Taylor were settled beside him, clapping excitedly. Ethan, as she later got to find out, had achieved 1st place in a writing contest held for his class. 

During dinner, she tries to tell her dad and her mom that she won a gold medal today, but Harry tells her to wait as soon as she gets a word in. So she does. The girl diligently waits for her dada to return to her and ask what she was saying. Still, as the plates get picked up and washed, she belatedly realises that no one was coming back to her.

Harry realises something with a start. That night, he felt so confused when Y/N’s teacher called him to say that she had forgotten her medal in class because he never knew she had won a medal in the first place.

As his mind goes back to the box under his daughter’s bed, he wonders in that hospital waiting room what all the unnoticed achievements she possessed and looked at every day because nobody except her knew she had those. 

Unnoticed achievements. Unnoticed injuries. 

How many of those did she possess? How many injuries and hidden hurts had she gotten?  There was no way for Harry to know that now. All he could do was wait. Wait for her to come out and give him his answers. Wait for her to forgive him. Wait for her to survive. 

It was picnic day. Everybody was happy and laughing. Charlotte giggled loudly as she ran from Ethan, who was trying to catch her. Taylor and Harry were laughing, setting up the blanket and food, but Y/N was missing. Not that anybody realised. 

She was sitting on the lowest branch of this thick, branched tree all by herself, waiting for her parents to notice her. She tried desperately to catch their attention to show them that she had climbed the tree alone. However, doing so caused her to slip from the branch she was holding onto and fall to the ground 2 meters down. 

Startled, Harry looks behind him to find Y/N whimpering on the ground. Her scared siblings run over to their sister as Taylor sighs worriedly, Harry strolling over, perturbed, albeit while rolling his eyes in slight annoyance. Why does she keep doing such stupid things? What was she trying to prove? 

Herself.

Harry was on the verge of crying now. He remembers how he had told her off for being irresponsible and stupid even when she was crying in pain, just barely comforting her. Taylor had tried to soothe her cries while their younger children just watched. 

Harry wishes he would’ve just held and properly comforted his daughter instead of making her think everything was her fault. 

Just as another hurtful memory starts to make its way to the surface, Taylor and the children come running through the door. A sobbing Charlotte settles in her father’s lap. 

None of them says anything. The family just sits together as a heavy silence falls upon them, their minds reminiscing happy moments spent with Y/N just to find how little they actually were. 

Taylor thinks back to the time she and Y/N baked together for their family.

Y/N was 13 at the time. She had found this strawberry cheesecake recipe she desperately wanted to try. Taylor was in a particularly good mood that day, and she agreed. They pulled out the ingredients needed, dancing to Harry’s songs. They sang along and played with flour when Ethan ran into the kitchen like a flapping chicken. Charlotte sat on the counter and laughed at her siblings. 

They finished and decorated the cheesecake as Harry entered through the door. Smiling widely at his family, he helps plate out the dinner they had made as a side project; the lasagna. 

All of them, including Y/N, remember that night as one of the happiest memories they had together. 

Ethan stands next to his father while his mind reels memories of her helping him with his chemistry project. 

This was recent; she’s 15. Ethan’s sitting at the dining table, completely confused with the sheet of instructions sitting in front of him. Y/N walks by the fridge, picking up a chocolate bar to satisfy her craving. She feels like shit. Period cramps are reigning terror, and she wants to commit. But she still feels better than she usually does. A glance over to her brother tells her he doesn’t know shit about what he’s doing. 

She smirks at his lost state, propping herself up on the counter beside him. Ethan doesn’t even wait for her to say anything and quickly spills his shit to her. He doesn’t understand the topic and has fuck all for an idea on where to start. Now she topped her class in Chemistry, but he doesn’t need to know that. (He does know that, but there was a sorry excuse of congratulations to her, so technically, she doesn’t need to jog his memory)

3 hours later, they’ve got glue on their face and marker doodles on their hands as Y/N lays down the final touches to the project. Chests heaving with relief, both of them collapse into their seats after working on that thing non-stop for hours. But damn if it didn’t look good. 

Excitedly, Ethan reaches over the chairs and squeezes his sister into a hug, who instantly tenses at the action. For him, that’s normal; he hugs his friends, parents, or anyone, but the affectionate physical contact is alien to Y/N. Nobody touches her like that. Ever. 

He doesn’t let go instantly but instead holds onto her. She slowly relaxes into his embrace but never wholly. 

When he finally let's go, he looks at her gratefully. “Thanks, sister.”

__________________________________________

Charlotte had now quietened down as she thought back to the time Y/N braided her hair when mom wasn’t around. 

She was 16 in this one.

With thumping little feet, Charlotte marches around the house looking for her mother, who well wasn’t at home. She pouts and settles down on the couch, looking very irritated. 

Y/N, who had just walked out of her room to get some food, glances amusedly at her little sister sitting there. 

As she passes, Charlotte stares at her and lights up like a damn Christmas tree, getting a brilliant idea. 

She runs and pulls her elder sister’s sleeves to get her attention. Charlotte motions at her wildly flying long hair. Clicking her tongue, Y/N reluctantly picks her up and carries her to her room. She slightly teases her sister, only coming to her when nobody else is there, which Charlotte frantically denies. But Y/N was just joking, wasn’t she?

Opening the door to Charlotte’s room, Y/N sits her down at her small vanity and looks through the drawers to find rubber and clips. She gets a brush and combs down her little sister’s hair, who’s blabbering about what she saw in the last Barbie movie. Relying on what she saw in a video, Y/N partitions and does a dutch braid in her hair with extravagant glittery rubbers and sparkly pins. 

Once she’s done, Charlotte gurgles happily about the result. Y/N smiles slightly at her happy sister and then takes her to the kitchen to feed her ice cream.

Taylor remembers how surprised she was when she came home to her daughter’s dutch braided hair. She was even more surprised when she learned that Y/N had done it. As a reward, she cooked her favourite pasta for dinner, which they still remember. 

__________________________________________

Harry stares blankly at the wall as he thinks back to when they painted each other’s nails. A scarce bonding memory with her. 

She was 12. Her aunt Gemma had bought her this mini nail art kit when she came to visit her nieces and nephew. She was so happy and obsessed with it that it was contagious. 

Harry was sitting on the kitchen counter with his diary when she entered the room, giggling loudly. 

She scrambled up beside him and pulled on his cardigan. His attention quickly diverted to his daughter, who looked radiant with that manicure kit clutched in her arms. He chuckles and closes his diary, the annoyance quickly dissipating when he sees her so happy and excited. 

Within the next five minutes, the kit is open and on the table, while a very convinced Harry picks out black and turquoise for his hands and the same for hers. 

Giggling and laughing, they put on the nail paint without spilling anything. Harry got annoyed at Y/N, which was a miracle in itself. They happily click photos to upload on Harry’s Instagram, making weird faces and poses. 

Harry wasn’t as annoyed with his eldest daughter for the following days. It startled almost everybody, including Y/N, to some degree. But then nobody was really very surprised when he got angry with her a short 2 weeks after.

But as Harry remembers it, she had done something stupid again that made him angry at her. He had decided that she just didn’t deserve any affection from him because all she made him was disappointed, often forgetting that she was the one that made him a father. Something he had longed for forever. 

__________________________________________

Sniffling, Charlotte sits up just as the doctor enters the waiting area. He looks around and nods in recognition when he sees the family of 4 there.

“Hi, I’m Dr Warren. There were pretty deep cuts on your daughter’s wrists which resulted in quite a lot of blood loss. We ran tests, and her glucose levels are almost dangerously low, meaning she hasn’t probably had something nourishing to eat in, say, about 3 days. She seems dehydrated as well.” He pauses to let them take in his words before continuing. “I don’t mean to dishearten you, but according to her labs, her health was not in a good state, and neither was her mental health. Your daughter herself admitted that these were not accidental but rather self-harm scars. She isn’t in a good place psychologically. Dr James is with her right now. She’s a therapist/psychologist, one of the best in her field.”

Harry’s face paled, and he felt dizzy. How could he have let this happen? Taylor burst out sobbing while a crying Ethan tried to comfort Charlotte. 

Stumbling over his feet and words, Harry asks the doctor if he can see his daughter. Dr Warren nods quietly and leads him to her room. Before he could go inside, Dr Warren stopped Harry for a second. “Sir, I just want to say that please handle everything delicately and keep in mind to be patient. Dr James will talk with you later.” 

With that in mind, he opens the door and almost wants to collapse at the sight he finds. 

A couple of tubes and IVs run back and forth from her body as the heart monitor beeps in the corner. A small bag of blood is can be seen connected to her body. 

The supposed Dr James and Y/N look up as the door opens. Y/N takes in a shuddering breath as Harry comes closer. With a nod and squeeze of Y/N’s hand, the doctor leaves her and Harry in the hospital room alone. The only sound in the room for the next few seconds was her heart monitor beeping loudly until Harry started to speak. 

“Hi, darling.” She scoffs lightly at his words, replying in a bitter sassy tone. “Hi, dad.” 

“Why did you do it? Why - Just I can’t understand- how you would-” He struggles to wrap his head around it all while she chuckles. “I thought you were happy, Y/N. I thought-” 

“No! You thought.” She interrupts him loudly. “You just thought. You never once bothered to check in on me. Never bothered to check if I was doing okay because I wasn’t. I know you never wanted me there in the first place. You would have liked it better if I was never even born, right?” 

Harry gapes like a fish at her words, not having a single idea in the world as to how he would reply to her. He wants to deny it, but can he even? 

“You like your other 2 prize children so much better, don’t you? I understand, though. They’re so smart and pretty and perfect. I’m not needed in this family. I never was.” 

A high-pitched sob breaks the air. Their heads turn towards the door where Taylor and her siblings stood. She scoffs at the tears in their eyes, not having the emotional capability to give a fuck about their feelings. Not when they never gave a fuck about hers. Even when they had the emotional capability to do so. 

She turns her head to the side before resuming quietly. “I know I wasn’t meant to be born. You never wanted me there. I was so incapable of being loved that you got 2 more children out, ones that were worthy enough of the abundance of love you both had for each other. Ones that were capable of being loved.” Her voice quietens down to something short of a mumble. A broken whisper you wouldn’t have heard if not for the painstaking silence in that room. 

“But you never even gave me a chance.”

“Never gave me a single chance to prove myself. To prove that I was capable of being loved. That I wasn’t useless or loveless.”

She raises her voice ever so slightly, more or less tilting her head towards her sister and brother. 

“I don’t have anything against you. You’re my friends, both of you. I won’t say siblings cause siblings are supposed to have a bond. Siblings are supposed to be there for each other, protect each other from scoldings, and steal cookies. All of that shit.” A finger slightly twirls in the air. 

The only thing that interrupts the chilling quiet in the atmosphere is the almost lifeless sounds of the heart monitor with suspiciously slow beeps that made Y/N herself doubt whether her heart was beating correctly or not. 

“I’m sorry.” Harry’s apology uselessly cuts through the thickly tense air. “I really am sorry, Y/N.”

“Bandaids don’t fix bullet holes, do they now? You say sorry just for the show. Take a look at what you’ve done. Wounds can heal, but this won’t. Stop trying. From what I know about myself, I’m damn sure I’m not gonna forgive you or you.” Her slender finger points at Taylor and Harry. 

Y/N starts coughing with the rough use of her voice as Harry rushes to grab the glass of water beside her bed. Leading the straw to her mouth, she barely takes a sip before snatching the glass with whatever strength she had. 

Settling back into her bed. She begins again. It seems like all of the quietude from the past years was bubbling over now. Rather violently. 

“I’m 19.” She states in a matter-of-fact tone. “I don’t know if you know, but I got into Stanford. Yay, me!” Y/N rolls her eyes snarkily. “As soon as I get out of here, I’m leaving for good. I will do everything for myself, on my own. I didn’t need you for the past 10 years, and I don’t think that’s gonna change now.”

“I think you’re being rather harsh-” Taylor starts but gets interrupted by a very emotionless chuckle. 

“Please don’t. I didn’t come to this lightly. I’ll leave next month. You don’t have to bother with anything at all. I will be out of your hair soon. You can try to bridge things all you want, but please don’t think you can fix this. Now, I wanna sleep.”

Like an angel, Dr James opens the door and ushers her family out. Y/N sighs thankfully and pulls her blanket up to her face as they leave. 

Once Charlotte gets settled in the play area for kids with Ethan nervously watching over her, Dr James leads Taylor and Harry to her office. She settles in her seat with a sigh, lacing her fingers together while the couple in front of her can’t stand touching each other. Probably because of the blame they were tossing around in their head.

“I’m not gonna beat around the bush; I’m sure you’d appreciate that.” Dr James begins in a genuinely gentle tone. “Well, for starters, I’m Dr Augustine James. I’m a psychiatrist, psychologist and therapist. Y/N has told me that she was very upset living in your household. This was a suicide attempt, as she admitted herself. Please don’t go about thinking that she wasn’t sure or had no reason to be upset because she was.” 

Harry choked on a sob as Taylor rubbed her husband’s shoulder gingerly. 

“It seems like she hasn’t had an output for her emotions or somebody to talk to in a long time because she almost immediately told me everything. It usually takes some coaxing, but they spill when the patient gets overwhelmed.” She pauses for a second to allow them a moment to absorb her words. 

“Now, I’m not gonna tell you what she said because of the patient-doctor confidentiality, but you should know you need to be careful 'cause I know that it’s delicate. She is a hair’s breadth away from leaving for college and never looking back on you. I suppose it's harsh, but it's the truth.” Dr James had taken an albeit gentle but matter-of-fact-I-don’t-take-bullshit tone towards the end. 

_____________________________________________________

About one really agitating and eye-opening hour later, Taylor and Harry trudge out of the doctor’s office looking as beaten as could be. All the shit they subconsciously gave to their eldest daughter, did they even realise how harmful it all was? When they enter her room this time, they find her asleep. Looking more peaceful than she ever had.

Taylor sits down in the chair closest to the bed, laying her head down on the bed. Harry awkwardly stands around for a second before pulling up a chair near Y/N’s bed, gingerly placing a ringed hand on her arm. 

The girl in question sighs or grumbles more like. In pleasure or displeasure from the physical contact, her parents don’t know. They don’t know her well enough to understand her sleeping habits granted, as she dared never crawl into bed with her mama and papa. 

Thinking about this, Harry stumbles down the memory rabbit hole of all the time he spent with her (not that it was a lot) and screeches to a halt at the time he comforted her after a night of recurring nightmares. 

She’s merely 6. After Y/N jolts awake from the bouts of fitful sleep and bad dreams that had been plaguing her night, for the umpteenth time, she decides she should go to her parents. Hoping they would let her in and snuggle her to sleep. She takes in a deep breath, contemplates (which she shouldn’t) if she actually should bother and wake up her parents at 1:25 in the night. 

Eventually gathering up the courage, the little girl walks across the hall and weakly knocks at her parents’ bedroom door. No response at first. She knocks again with a slightly stronger hand. Somebody trudges across the floor and the door swings open where a sleepy Harry looks down at Y/N. His face turns almost annoyed from the gentle state it’d originally been in. 

Slightly cowering under his gaze, Y/N weakly mutters that she had nightmares and couldn’t sleep. They can hear Taylor faintly stirring behind them. 

Seeing her afraid posture, Harry crouches down to her level and raises his hand to which his daughter somewhat flinches. He softens a great deal at the motion, placing the bare hand on her head to slightly ruffle her hair, which incites a tiny almost afraid giggle.

Taylor appears behind Harry and yawns. She gets down to her knees beside her husband, smiling clemently. She gently asks about what happened. Cooing pitifully at her daughter’s sleepless night, Taylor comforts her by pulling her into an embrace and into her lap. Harry strokes her back and Y/N swears it doesn’t get any better. Until she asks if she could sleep in their room. 

She looks up from her position on her mother’s lap, now sleepily mumbling out a request to sleep with them. Harry goes ever so slightly rigid as Taylor’s pale blue eyes flit from her daughter to her husband chewing the inside of his cheek. Before she could think about agreeing, Harry starts, “You should sleep in your own room. You’re a big girl.” 

And it probably came out more irately than it was meant or was supposed to. Taylor vaguely winces at his tone, proceeding to shut him up and backtrack on his words. “I’ll tuck you in, yeah? Daddy needs to go to work in the morning, he needs sleep.” 

She looks so dejected at the statement that he almost regrets saying it, especially how he did it.

“Y/N, you can sleep in your own bed, can’t you? Your mom will tuck you in.” She wants to be selfish and say no and throw a tantrum like she knows her siblings would’ve done and easily gotten their way. But deeper in she knows they wouldn’t need to know a tantrum in the first place. 

She sniffles, tears fluttering in her eyes. Well, she doesn’t want to trouble her dada further, does she? 

Y/N gives them a watery, defeated smile as she trudges down from Taylor’s lap. Harry’s heart breaks (for some strange reason) when she defeatedly crawls back to her room, turning once at her door, waving sweetly and disappearing inside. Taylor sighs from beside him as they get up.

“It’s ok H, she needs to learn to get up on her own.” She appeared to have caught on to his sudden and rare burst of sadness on the occasion of his eldest. However, he shrugs her off, muttering and going back to the room. His wife shakes her head and follows him into their bedroom. 

He remembers it all too well. Time didn’t seem to fly where inky minutes turned into the early hours of the morning. He seemed to be paralysed by it. Unable to fall asleep and think about anything except Y/N’s sad face. It goes round and round like a satellite in his head. Spinning around waiting for him to pay attention. 

Soft shuffling rouses him from the murkiness of his thoughts. He looks beside him where his wife lay comfortably, sound asleep. He can somewhat hear light little footsteps descending the stairs but he convinces himself it was just due to his lack of sleep. 

Now, he’s pretty sure he heard the clanging of something downstairs. He glances at the soft blue letters of the clock. 2:40. Crawling out from under the covers (and his wife), Harry makes his way to the kitchen where he can see tiny shadows dancing ‘round the kitchen in the refrigerator light. 

“The fridge light washes this room white.” He thinks. 

Entering the kitchen he sees something, he’s not entirely surprised by. Y/N stands there holding the fridge door, periodically drinking, what he assumes to be orange juice according to the juice box in her hand. Her eyes go impossibly wide as she turns and notices her father standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a softly amused expression that her startled little head does not register. 

The door simply slips from her hand and shuts close as she nervously puts down the juice box on the floor. Tears immediately start pooling in her eyes and she starts blubbering out apologies. Harry frowns at her fear, crouching near her but that just makes her more scared. Y/N chokes in her apologies and winces once again when he raises his hands to shush her (again for some bizarre reason he couldn’t explain to himself). 

And Harry feels….hurt? Why is his own daughter afraid of him that way?

He tuts and tugs her into his arms which well alarms the both of them. Y/N hesitantly relaxes against his silky sleep shirt as he tentatively tightens his arms around her. “It’s uh it’s ok.” He clears his throat kinda awkwardly. 

But that doesn’t stop her from pulling back and spewing out justification for drinking juice in the middle of the night. 

“I’m really sorry dada. I didn’t mean to make you mad. I promise. I was going to sleep but then the bad dream was- it was scaring me and I just came down to drink water and then I found a juice box so I took it, I’ll put it back, please don’t be mad at m-” 

“Hey hey hey. It’s ok Y/N. You can have it, yeah? You can have one more.” That stops her in her hiccuped rambling of an apology in it’s tracks, eyes wide once again. Terribly hidden surprise and disbelief was skewered over her features as she confirmed that he really was not mad at her. He was even ready to give her another one!

He picks her up and sets her on the kitchen on counter. The action most certainly shocks her. 

“Has papa drank that weird liquid thing again? Is he gonna punish me later? Why isn’t he mad? I want ice cream. Is dada going crazy? Why didn’t he shout and call mama? I really want ice cream. I hope he doesn’t get mad again. Will he get ma-” Y/N’s tiny head is almost short circuiting due to her father’s strange mood swing. 

Harry, meanwhile, picks up the juice box she was already drinking and hands it to her. She innocently sips from it, observing him all while silently wondering about what even was happening. 

His smile is slightly tight. Unnatural maybe. But atleast he was smiling at her. Once the box is finished, which was pretty quick, she jumps down from the kitchen island, scrambling to throw it into the bin as Harry’s eyebrows wrinkle. His furrowed gaze never once wavers from her small frame. She cowers in front of him, softly stuttering out a goodnight.

“Good night, dada. I will quickly go to sleep, promise. Won’t bother you anymore.” His confusion and creeping agitation is evident on his face. 

“Do you not want me to read you something or sing or what?” Charlotte and Ethan would’ve begged him to do something of that sort by now not that they would’ve been in a position where they had to ask Harry for stories. He voluntarily dished out such things for his younger kids. 

“Um uh I- I- I don’t- I don’t want to trouble you papa. Mama said you had work, you can go to sleep. I can go to sleep by myself now.” She didn’t sound very sure of it but tried her best to unwaveringly deliver her partial lie. 

He sighs and holds out his hand. “Come on Y/N. Let’s get you in bed.” 

The wide eyes should be trademarked at this point. 

Slowly creeping up the staircase, the duo tip toe into Harry’s bedroom to where Taylor was sleeping. He motions for her to quietly get under the blanket. She moves uncertainly as if he was gonna suddenly change his mind and not let her sleep in their bedroom. 

Once she gets under the covers, her mother instincually pulls her closer. A pleased sigh emanates through the room. Smiling, Harry leaves the room to go work in his home studio. He wasn’t gonna fall back asleep anytime soon.

__________________________________________

It hurts his heart to think about it now. He acted like nothing happened the very next day, crushing Y/N’s hopes in his ringed fist. 

The memories go through his head like flashbacks in a film reel as he sits there with his wife and kids, watching his daughter lay asleep in a hospital bed. 

Y/N doesn’t wake for the next few hours. Not until she’s sure that visitor hours are over and her family has left. 

_____________________________________________________

3 weeks later

Its been about 3 weeks since they discharged her from the hospital. 2 weeks since, what everybody keeps referring to as ‘that night’. The air in the Styles’ household seems sombre and stale. As if somebody was gonna burst out screaming and crying. 

She’s planned to leave for university in the next few days. The last of her stuff is packed up and shipped to her new apartment in Stanford which her parents were adamant on funding. She didn’t fight them a lot on that. 

All that was left now, were the damn boxes full of years of tropies, awards, prizes and certificates. Photographs, keepsakes, diaries. A lot was there under her bed. But not anymore. 

Harry’s watches Y/N from the doorway, her back to him. She digs around the boxes like she was searching for something important. She’s scoured through the other 2 boxes seemingly not having found whatever it was she had been looking for. 

With a sudden gasp, she straightens up holding a few polaroid pictures in her hand. Harry can just make out what the pictures are of. Them.

The first one is of Harry and Taylor sitting together in the grass, laughing. It looked like the shot was taken while they weren’t aware. All of the pictures looked like that. In the second one, everyone except Y/N is sitting around the kitchen island apparently having breakfast. Their faces were cheerful, unaware that somebody was capturing the moment. The next one was one of the photographs they’d taken on a family vacation. This shot had all 5 of them in the frame. They were sitting on the sofa at Anne’s old Cheshire house. Charlotte and Ethan are settled in Harry’s lap and Y/N in Taylor’s. He remembers Gemma pushing them together and quickly getting the snap. They’re all giggling and happy. 

The last one. The last picture in Y/N’s hand was of her and her father. Harry’s cradling a newborn Y/N in his arms, holding her as if she’d break if he so much as to dared to breath harshly. His gaze was fixated on her with a loving look. Something so uncommon, she’d die for it now. 

He’s gonna start crying. He swears he is. He sniffles from the doorway and watches Y/N’s head shoot up in alarm. Her eyes glisten with tears in the light. Sighing, she looks back down to stuff the pictures inside a folder and into her bag. 

“D-dinner’s ready, Y/N. I made lasagna for you.” 

She mutters out a response as she shuts the box and pushes it to the side with the other ones. 

She hopes her life gets better

_____________________________________________________

3 months later

It’s been three months since she left their house and she’s never felt better. Never felt so in control. Taylor calls her every one or two days with Harry chiming in, asking about her day. She’s trying to talk to him without the sarcasm and bitter comments. Its not proven to be very successful till now but Harry won’t stop trying. No matter her words he still asks her a question and tells her a dad joke when he calls her.

University is good. She’s making friends that understand her. Finding her own people. Y/N decided to keep this small kitten she saw wandering around on campus. It looked lost and hurt; like her. Named it Oreo.  

She thinks her life might start getting better. 

_____________________________________________________

2 years later

Its been three years since she started university. She found a bestfriend in a girl called Lila. Y/N thinks she might love her. Oreo has become her forever companion and found his best friend in Lila’s cat, Milkie. Her course still has a year to go.

She calls Harry everyday now. Their relationship is getting better. She’s started to forgive him because her therapist and Lila told her to be the bigger person and move on. He’s not entirely forgiven but he knows that 17 years of pain isn’t forgotten that easily. Harry’s trying his hardest for her now and Y/N isn’t letting it go unnoticed. 

She visits home for break and stays. She used to have dinner and leave the next morning, gradually staying for the weekend and then the week and then the entire break. She celebrates, Christmas, Easter and birthdays with them. 

Christmas break is starting in a weeks. This time Lila is going with her. 

Her life is getting better.

[motomamita]

You.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Pairing: Yandere!Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Eddie meets (y/n) at work and falls madly in love for her. Their lives had changed since then, but for the better?

Warnings: smut, +18, Obsession, stalker, cursing, birth control, idk

A/N: English is NOT my first language.

Inspired by the netflix series "You".

Do not copy or translate this!

"Hey, Eddie. Can you cover while I'm going to the bathroom?" Robin Buckley, my co-worker, leaned against the counter and looked down at me.

"Sure. Take your time." I answered finishing arranging some boxes with new vinyl that had arrived.

I let out a sigh of relief when I saw her walk into the warehouse. Don't get me wrong, Robin is a good girl, she just gets too bossy at work for my liking. Sometimes I need to have my space and be the one to do things without having to receive orders from behind.

I kept arranging and separating the vinyls alphabetically and then placing them in their proper places. As much as I was concentrating, it didn't go unnoticed that someone had entered the store and was walking a few meters behind me, through the section where different guitars were exhibited. I thought that it was possibly one of the typical visitors that used to pass by the store: a teenager interested in entering the world of music, some parents looking for the perfect gift for their son or even an old man who was delighted with the records of his time. But no, this time it wasn't any of those boring people. Its was You.

You were wearing shorts that let your recently shaved legs shine, i could tell by the small cuts you made by mistake with the razor. Your feet were visible thanks to the sandals, your nails well cared for and painted in a nude color. Your white blouse, despite being large, revealed your white bra that adorned your breasts and how hard your nipples were due to the strong air conditioning of the place. You wore your hair in a half ponytail, so that your neck and what appeared to be hickeys that you were trying to cover up with concealer could be seen. Dirty girl.

My observations took only a few seconds, which were quick enough for you to turn around and smile at me as if you had known me all your life. At first glance you seemed to be reserved and rescued but those hickeys and the questionable choice of bra told me otherwise. You definitely led a double life. And I wanted to know about it.

I approached with my hands held forward, playing with my rings and putting on a kind expression with which we should always receive buyers, only this time it was not false but sincere thanks to you.

"You work here?" My God. Your voice was even more precious than your entire appearance. So sweet, so innocent. I can't wait to hear you say my name and how much you love me.

I let out a laugh at your question, so naive and perhaps clumsy considering that my name was framed on a plaque that was grabbed from one of the pockets of my jean jacket. Either you are very clueless or you knew that I work here and you wanted to act disinterested.

"Guilty." I replied amused.

You laughed and I couldn't help copying you. It's probably one of the most satisfying sounds I've ever heard. You laughing thanks to me.

"Tell me. Are you looking for something in particular?" I took a quick look at the guitars on display. I knew you weren't there for the guitars. Your delicate hands give you away instantly.

"Well..." You read my name on the plaque. "...Edward." Shit, shit, shit. I think I'm going to get a boner hearing my name leave your rosy lips. "I'm not here for the guitars."

I put on my best surprised face which caused another laugh to escape from you. Inside enjoying how easy you were to read and interpret, almost as transparent as your blouse.

"Wait, wait! Let me guess." I closed my eyes for a moment, putting on my expression of maximum concentration. "Got it! You're a pianist!"

"Yes! My God! How...? How did you guess?" You asked me really surprised, almost like a little girl.

"Let me tell you that your hands are too well cared for to be a guitarist, sweetheart." I responded by leaning on one of the shelves.

Your cheeks noticeably blushed upon hearing the nickname I gave you. Your eyes made eye contact with mine for a few seconds but then you dropped them to the ground. Are you ashamed? You are shy? Does my look intimidate you? I don't know, but it's adorable.

"I left Robin in charge of a vinyl..." You looked at me again but this time your body seems to be nervous. How much effect did my words have on you?

"Okay. Follow me!"

I walked to the counter, you followed me at a safe distance. I could feel your gaze on me, you were watching me. Did you also do it when you entered?

"In whose name...?"

"(y/n) ) (y/l)"

(y/n). Such a beautiful name. Made for you and only for you.

I searched among the merchandise that we had separated until I found the vinyl that was yours. 'Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli' Wow, Italian pianist. You must do magic with those fingers. Put the vinyl in a bag and hand it to you. When you grabbed it I noticed that you were wearing a bracelet made of charms with your name, it seemed to be made by a child. Do you have siblings, (y/n)? I am excellent with children, I assure you that we could get along if you introduce him to me. He will love me as much as you will.

You opened your wallet looking for money and I noticed that you had several credit cards, something not very common in someone your age unless you were from a family with money. I wouldn't be surprised if you were, the piano is an instrument widely practiced by people with economic power.

"Keep the change." So considerate. Love it.

"I hope to see you play very soon." My words will surprise you, apparently not many appreciate your music the way I do.

"Yes, it'd be great." You nodded your head. "Thank you Edward."

"Eddie. That's what everyone calls me."

"Okay. Thanks Eddie."

"You welcome, sweerheart."

And you left with a smile on your face.

Thanks Robin for having to pee. Thanks, because I was able to meet you.

During that week we saw each other several times. Well, actually I was seeing you.

Robin told me that she met you thanks to you practicing piano at his neighbor's house, who apparently is a very gifted pianist with a great reputation.

You do indeed have money, a lot to tell the truth. I checked it when I saw you waiting for your little brother in the parking lot of your school. I would have loved to come over and talk to you but I would have had to jump the fences. Yes, you study in a different place than most. An institute for people with money and that stands out for its good training in its students. That explained why I never saw you before.

Your classes finish much earlier than your brother's. Sometimes you wait for him and they go home together. The days that you have piano lessons you return home alone in your car and your parents take care of picking he up. Forgot to mention it. You have a beautifully expensive car. You drive well, follow the signs and avoid falling into incidents. I had to follow you with my truck to account for it.

You have piano lessons 3 times a week. Monday Wednesday and Friday. Same schedule and same routine that we both follow separately, obviously. You park your car in the parking lot of the house and go down with your backpack. He greets you by rubbing your back and you walk in, disappearing from my sight but not my ears.

The practice room overlooks the garden of the house. You arrive, you practice for an hour and a half and then you leave. While I am content to hide in the neighbor's garden who, luckily for me, is on vacation and listen to you play the angelic melodies. I don't need to see you, just hear what you think is more than enough for me. You were practicing the songs on the Benedetti Michelangeli vinyl, I know because I took the work to listen to it when I found out you bought it.

On Friday the routine was the same. You leave class, go home, get ready and go to your piano lessons. My routine hasn't changed either. I skipped class earlier so I could meet you in the parking lot, I follow you home, I wait until you get out and I walk you to your classes at a reasonable distance, I don't want to take away your personal space either. I park my truck far away, so I don't let Robin or any curious neighbors know I'm there. The neighbor's fence jumped and I sit on the floor to listen to you play.

Confusingly that day the routine was broken.

Several minutes passed in which I could not hear the sound of the piano. My curiosity got the best of me, I needed to see that you were there, that you were fine. I peeked over the fence to the house, seeing it for the first time that week. The courtyard was large and not very well lit, any crazy person could get in without being seen. The practice room was connected to the courtyard by a large glass window. That's when I saw you.

Lying on your stomach on the black piano, getting fucked by your teacher.

I was surprised but not that much. I could say I saw it coming. No man in his right mind could resist you, not even your master who is twice your age. Quickly all the puzzle pieces fell into place. The hickeys, the short skirts and dresses you wore to class, the overly affectionate greetings and goodbyes he gave you. How could I be such an idiot and not realize it sooner? It turned out to be more interesting than I thought, (y/n).

My pants started to bother me from the growing boner I was getting just looking at you. I had no choice but to lower my zipper, pull my cock out and start stroking myself to ease the pain. I was probably going to feel dirty and guilty about what I was doing afterwards, but I really needed it.

My hand pumped my cock slowly and precisely as I took in every detail of you. Your white panties were up to your knees, possibly the need of the moment didn't give him time to take them off completely. Your light blue dress was up to your waist, where one of the man's hands held it. I couldn't see your breasts but I would have killed for that. Your cheeks were the same rosy color as the time I called you 'sweetheart' last week. Beads of sweat gathered on your forehead and your cooked braids weren't as neat as when you entered the house a few minutes ago.

My fist moved more quickly and purposefully now, imagining it to be your pussy. Your eyes were closed and you bit your lower lip, probably to keep from making too much noise. Your teacher's attacks became more repetitive and desperate, the most assured thing is that he was about to cum. I was not far behind, increasing my movements and keeping up with the man. Groans and deep moans emerged from my throat at the sensation that was taking over my body. I kept my gaze fixed on you, on your curves, your face and the way my name came out of your mouth the first time we met.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me." I groaned almost losing consciousness of my words.

My legs trembled the moment i came over my hand, soiling my pants on the spot. Your teacher finished too, staying inside you for a few moments and then coming out, revealing your sensitive pussy dripping with semen. He adjusted his pants and then handed you a towel so you could clean yourself. What a son of a bitch. If I were in his place I would clean your pussy with my tongue, tasting our fluids together. When you finished cleaning yourself, you adjusted your underwear and dress, trying to look presentable even though your face was still flushed and you were breathing hard. You tried to kiss him but he rejected you to instead caress your head as if it were a puppy. Ouch, that hurt and i could see it on your face.

My (y/n), my poor and naive (y/n). He is using you for his own pleasure and nothing more. He doesn't love you, nor does he deserve to. He's just playing with your feelings and that bothers me, a lot. Precisely because I know you and I know you don't deserve that, not at all. And I know you won't do anything to change it. But you're lucky to have met me.

I'm going to save you from there. I will do the impossible so that you are happy with me, because I am not a maybe, I am the one. And I'm going to prove it to you.

[assembletheimagines]

Could you do a smut where Bucky has the alter ego of the winter soldier and you push his last button on where you flirt with one of the team members!❤️🖤🥵

Mine

summary: Bucky reminds you who you belong to

warnings:  18+ to interact, smut, pet names, orgasm denial, cream pie, choking

note: Don’t come for me idk how to write lmao my mind is a puddle of goo rn and all I heard was Bucky gets jealous and shows you who you belong to~

tag list: @potatothots @elle14-blog1 @getwellsoontana @avengetheunnatural @littlelightnings

-

Bucky’s grip on your arm didn’t falter until you were in a semi-empty room.

Boxes were here and there, some even stacked on top of one another, most likely filled with supplies or art work since you both were currently attending an exhibit for heroes. But you couldn’t focus on that, no, your eyes were solely on Bucky who stood before you giving you the same attention.

“You think you’re cute, huh?” His tone was dark, eyes icy as he narrowed them at you. And you felt a pleasant shiver run down your spine because of it. You smiled at the super soldier and decided to feign innocence.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” your response wasn’t what Bucky was looking for, but that wasn’t a surprise. You could have sworn his eyes shined like he was actually pleased with your answer.

“Oh, so you think it’s fine to be pressed up against Sam?” Bucky mused and the air shifted, the tension building with every second you two stayed in the small room. “You don’t think I saw you flirting with him?” He asked and your mind flashed the memory that was only minutes ago.

I mean, in your defense, the exhibit was boring. You believed the heroes did deserve the praise they got but while everyone fawned over Bucky and Steve, everyone else was just kind of casted aside?

Sam, who was also a hero and attendee had easily sidled up to you by the bar as reporters and women hung onto every word the super soldiers spoke while Tony didn’t pay attention to anyone but Pepper, flirting in the corner like they were a bunch of teenagers.

Natasha, Clint, Yelena, and Kate were nowhere to be seen since the four of them snuck out before anything even begun and the other newest recruits of the hero world walked around the exhibit together in awe in the meantime.

And if you were being honest, you weren’t even sure why you were there. So, with Sam knocking back his whiskey and then ordering another for himself and another drink for you. You decided to have some innocent fun.

And you were banking on Bucky noticing. Smiling when you caught his gaze as you brushed your hand down Sam’s arm, laughing at something he had said.

It didn’t take long before you were exactly where you were now.

“Well, you were busy,” you hummed and Bucky crossed his arms over his chest.

“Bend over,” the command was simple but it immediately had your imagination running wild as you continued to stand as you were, a jolt of electricity running through your body at his words.

“Excuse me?” Bucky wasn’t going to repeat himself and didn’t waste any further time as he walked over to you and immediately turned you around by the waist. He pushed you forward until you found yourself bent over one of the stacked boxes in the small room.

You felt warmth on your back as Bucky leaned over you and brought his mouth close to your ear. “When I tell you to do something,” his voice was low and cold and it made you shiver in response. “You do it.” And then his hands were on your dress, pulling it up.

“Bucky-” you started but got cut off as his fingers pulled your panties to the side and slid up your wet folds earning a moan from you.

“You’re mine,” he growled and you could only gasp as his fingers suddenly filled you as his other hand kept you bent over. “But if I have to remind you,” he began to thrust his fingers, filling the room with your moans as he picked up the pace. “Then I will.”

Your mouth dropped open as he added another digit and your own fingers clutched onto the edge of the box as Bucky stretched and filled you with his fingers again and again.

You were always so responsive for Bucky and it didn’t help that he knew what spots made you moan so pretty for him. But just as the coil in your abdomen began to expand, his fingers were removed and you were hearing a zipper sliding down.

“Bucky-” you went to look over your shoulder but just then, he lined his cock to your entrance and pushed in. The action made your head drop and your walls stretch to accommodate his length as he groaned above you.

“Take it all, Bunny.” His words made you keen and his hands held onto your hips. “I know you can.” He cooed and you moaned as you felt every inch of his cock slowly fill you up.

And once his pelvis pushed against your ass and he bottomed out, he was already moving back. He left only the head of his cock inside before thrusting forward and stealing the breath from your lungs.

“Mine,” he growled and began to pick up the pace. The sound of skin hitting skin and your moans resonated through the small room and made him go faster with each thrust. Pounding into you as you held onto the box. “You’re mine and only mine,” he grunted and your mind began to fog up. The pleasure coursing through you and fueling the coil in your abdomen as he rolled his hips into you over and over.

“Yours,” you gasped and your eyes rolled up as his right hand wrapped around your throat and brought you up. Your back was now against his chest as he rutted his hips into you. “Only yours,” you babbled and Bucky squeezed as his metal fingers found your clit.

“That’s right, baby.” His mouth brushed the back of your shoulder and you clenched around his cock as the new angle had him hitting the gummy spot inside you with each thrust.

Your hands found a home on his wrist that rested between your thighs and in his hair as your orgasm approached faster and faster. “Bucky, I’m-” you felt a new wave of slick pool causing Bucky to move even easier inside of you.

And then your mouth dropped as Bucky’s fingers tightened their grip around your neck and his metal fingers stopped rubbing your clit to his strokes. You clenched around his length and felt him twitch inside of you before groaning as he found his release. Rope after rope of his cum painted your walls white as you whined, not reaching your own orgasm with him.

“Aw, you really think I’m gonna let you cum, huh?” He cooed down at you, faking sincerity as he filled you up. You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking before pulling out and placing your panties back in place. “Only good girls cum, Bunny.”

You were still in a state of shock as you faced him. And you were right, Bucky smirked as he met your eyes. His hands ran through his hair, fixing it from when you were clutching on to it. “Bucky!” You said his name in frustration, you could feel the mess between your thighs as he fixed his slacks unphased.

“I told you; I would help remind you that you’re mine.” He hummed and fixed his cuff links. “And if you behave, I’ll reward you later.” And then he was slipping out of the room, returning back to the exhibit, leaving you flustered and needing more.

[alovelyburn]

The last Twitter Stuff Post (probably)

I’m gonna be honest, I find reading about Miura kind of depressing and reading about his plans for the series quite depressing as well, so I decided to go through the whole twitter (well as much as the site will permit), grab the rest of everything of note to me and put it all in this post.

So yes, More Stuff Miura Said

1. The Lost Chapter - did you know it’s usually posted with the pages out of order? True story. [ link ]

1a. Clarification on the canonicity of the lost chapter - he just revealed too much too soon. He thought something that big should wait until the end. [ link ]

2. People like to say Miura said the ending of Berserk would be happy, but I’ve never found a source for that. The closest I’ve seen is this (I’ve seen it before now but you know the link is here so), which is basically just “I’m trying not to make it a tragedy, idk if it’ll be happy but I want to leave at least some sense of hope.” [ link ]

2a. He also had another quote that was basically the same, where he said he didn’t think such a long story should have a grim ending like Guts suddenly dying. Which like,. lmao, there’s that Go Nagai jumping out again except he pushed it back in the box.

3. If the kojion (the twitter user) ever posted this in the original japanese I missed it, which is a shame because i can’t quite parse the final part, but it seems to be saying that the time when everyone is traveling together is about to end. ...I really really miss Miura. [ link ]

4. The faces that line the world during the Eclipse represent the common will of humanity? [ link ]

5. Oh yeah, here’s the famous (to me anyway lmao) line where he talks about the androgynous characters and says usually (but not always) a beautiful androgynous protagonist’s femininity comes out and they fall in love with men. And that he felt he should provide a character like that with both male and female love interests. He’s talking about the protagonist to Duranki btw, but it’s interesting considering the way he drew Sheephead. [ link ]

6. Here’s some information on extent of Mori’s involvement in Berserk - I’ve seen a lot of people fear that Mori was working on 20 year old memories from the first time Miura sat down and plotted the rest of the series out, but their conversations were ongoing. [ link ]

7. Someone asked Miura if Guts and Griffith will fight in the end and he just kind of launched into a discussion of Berserk’s cosmology and what it would take to hurt an astral body. [ link ]

8. About Casca, it’s well known that he said he designed her physically to match his taste at the time, but less discussed that her personality was designed as a compilation of his own complexes and weaknesses. That’s pretty interesting to me because I always thought she was meant to be a strong badass but he was just bad at writing women back then. But it appears she was perhaps just not intended to be as strong and badass as I’d assumed.. [ link ]

9. This is just kind of funny to me - Miura complaining about all the Huge Swords that came after the Dragonslayer but without the kind of consideration as to what kind of body or stance it would take to actually wield something like that. [ link ]

10. Explanation of the nature of behelits - they are souls that fall from the astral plane, and their messed up face represents their fragmentation. ...but he made that up to explain it after he’d already designed them, which he did on a whim. [ link ]

11. kojion kept talking about a second golden age-esque arc that covered the Skull Knight’s history, and when asked where that came from, they explained that it was mentioned in the video interview that showed at the Berserk exhibition. [ link ]

12. This is pretty fascinating - he said that looking at the Eclipse made him want to hit his younger self in the face and ask what was wrong with him, and that he couldn’t do it now because he isn’t depressed anymore. You know, that’s interesting because there’s been a lot of discussion (mostly elsewhere) about the question of whether Miura ended up regretting some of the extremes in the Eclipse, and most particularly Casca’s rape. Because it.... gets played down a LOT and had absolutely no effect on Griffith’s presentation. And I do think part of that is Cultural Differences, because the West is a lot more angry about rape in fiction than Japan tends to be. But it does kind of sound like maybe he wouldn’t have done it again, if he had it to do over. [ link ]

13. I wish I could find it, but there’s a tweet in there somewhere about how he wouldn’t have women in the manga at all if he just did whatever he wanted, but that would be bad for the story. This is kind of tied into something he talked about a lot that I didn’t link to because I’m not trying to catalogue Miura’s life - he just didn’t know any women aside from relatives and his best friend’s wife, because he didn’t date at all or have many friends due to his being a shut-in who worked on manga 24/7. Anyway, I’ll look for the link again later and add it if I can find it.

14. According to Miura, all the relationships and such in the Golden Age really happened to him and his friends (in a not-fantastical way, of course). Which I think explains some of the tonal difference between the GA and the rest of the series. [ link ]

15. I believe this is his speech from when he won the Tezuka Osamu Award. [ link ]

[sixty-silver-wishes]

so weird to me how a lot of caligari adaptations fail to take into account that cesare is an abuse victim . like that’s one of the few aspects of his character . and furthermore it adds a lot of nuance to the way the story can be interpreted, especially when it comes to what this could mean for francis. but then I see quite a few interpretations where he’s Actually Evil outside of conditioning (2005 version is Really bad about this) and it’s just . hmmm

like in the og 1920 film, the only bit where he exhibits any consciousness is when he refuses to kill jane . we don’t really know what’s going on in his head there, but he doesn’t even appear to attempt violence or force until he’s startled. and idk. framing a character whose entire deal is having his entire identity erased and forced to act against his will in the way the 2005 version and some other adaptations do is . Weird to me

and like . personally for me it’s hard to look past how Fucked his situation is? like, he’s taken advantage of by a medical professional whose care he’s entrusted to, implied to have been experimented on, renamed to reinforce his subservient position, forced to commit murder and deprived of any mental or physical autonomy, displayed in a sideshow, kept in a box, not shown any concern from any of the characters, touched in intimate ways while asleep by his abuser, and this is all canon. so idk, for me, it’s kinda hard to see him as the villain when his entire character basically consists of being violated, specifically by someone who primarily exerts power over people who aren’t in the position to pose a challenge to him. (and on that note I think it’s kind of interesting that I’m getting attached to this film at a time when people in power where I live are primarily amassing it by oppressing already vulnerable demographics. which may factor into my interpretations? idk)

and on that note I feel like . framing him as Actually Just Evil has concerning implications when you consider his androgyny/queer coding. obviously not to say that we can’t have queer villains but like . I feel there are unfortunate parallels when interpreting a queercoded abuse victim as intentionally malevolent Just Because. and on the other hand I get kinda icky about sexualized interpretations of him bc like . he has pretty much zero mental autonomy and his character is constantly being exploited so like. ye

shouldn’t be allowed to talk abt caligari at 2 am but there ya go

[seoz-seoz]

Why do you like obito(like in what made his character interesting to you)?

Hi thanks for sending this ask :) hm so I'm really bad at collecting my thoughts and saying things clearly but I'll try. I wish I could write excellent meta like some ppl. Like it's all in my brain, but it's just a swirly blob of half thoughts. But ok here are some of my personal thoughts about obito and why I like him as a character.

There's a lot I like about obito… I think most of what I like is pretty common among fans. But I mean theres also things in his character and life that have always resonated with me personally. In my life i have dealt with a lot of trauma, injury, disability, loss, etc and i have kinda projected my experiences into my hc's of obito.. especially regarding his healing process post cave collapse and abuse from madara. I felt a lot of things i assume he would have felt after I also suffered a major injury, and after other traumatic things with major ramifications…

Almost his entire life was altered by, and almost nearly defined by his traumas. How he deals with his it, (or doesnt really) is so painful to watch, but to me his strength is commendable. I wonder sometimes if he would've given up if it hadn't been for his heart seal, if his strength of will would've withered away from neglect. But then, after kks removed the seal, it kind of proved (at that point in his journey at least) that he still believed in his goal of a better world, and he wasn't ready to give up. How much of his strength of will was his own? How mych was madaras influence? It's hard to say. What role do we play in creating our own identities, and how much control do we give others- or is taken away?

There's a lot of unknowns, a lot of grey when it comes to obito. Nothing is pretty or neat when it comes to him.

I am also SO fascinated by his relationship to love. I think on the surface he thinks he doesnt care, he has no love left to give. But i personally believe love is at the core of all his actions (like sasuke!! I am on the sasuke defense squad...) i mean yeah, his relationship with his emotions (love especially) is toxic and unhealthy no doubt... but ultimately what's important to me is that his love and joy were so so strong as a child- and so nearly destroyed- that he later clings so tightly to the little he has left. I think trauma can do this to us. It can make us jaded and resentful and hurt others, to try to make things better. But often what's at the core of all that is this desire for things to be better. For the suffering to go away.

Like ok. Obito wants to violently destroy the world that hurt him and his loved ones. And not just destroy it, but rather create a better world in its place. A world that promises no more pain ot suffering. That is telling. I think that others in his situation would gladly see the world rot into oblivion, and not feel bad about making it burn a little faster. But not obito. He wants to burn it all (perhaps as fast as possible!) in order to create a utopia. But here’s the kicker... it’s a utopia in which he will never find peace himself, where he will wonder alone for eternity. Oof.

I wont try to say if he was totally right or wrong/good or bad/selfless or selfish, just that i can empathize with his motives and his trauma. Most of all i dont think its fair to categorize him as either a villian or a hero. He exists outside of that binary and obviously exhibits traits of both which is a lot more interesting to me. I definitely like the duality/ficklness of his nature. He's hard to pin down, he doesn't fit in a box, he's kind AND he's cruel. Obito is good and bad and none of the above. He's multiple people all in one. Idk I just think he's neat.

I wish his journey in canon was cathartic for him but i dont know. It wasn't for me in the end chapters. Thats why i like au's :) (Side note, I think rin should have roundhouse kicked his ass when he saw her in the end. And thennnn they could hug and make up).

.

Hmm ok this was all over the place sorry I hope this makes sense. If u made it this for thanks for reading my unedited essay. I really like obito. Sending u love and joy.

[thedapperdeer]

The Creation of The Scion's Omnium-Gatherum

I've decided to turn my private estate into a library/museum, a sort of archive of sightseeing logs and trophies, etc from throughout the game. Eventually I'll probably do special exhibitions when the museum space is set up.

This place is intended for some gposing, could be a set piece for art, as well as an afk friendly space. I'll try and gather more orchestrion rolls to have good music going and change things up now and then. I'd like to host parties but idk if that will happen yet. Whenever I can get a good set up going for rolling out exhibitions I'll probably advertise more and try and do small gatherings for it.

So far I have The Scion's library complete. Aside from a portrait gallery of the iconic Scion's of the Seventh Dawn, it is a library with a "modest" collection of books, a work space, and places to sit and relax.

There is also a dedicated Tataru hallway, which has the guest book. I think it would be funny to have a gil donation box but I don't think there's anything like that in the game lol.

[hacked-by-jake]

𝗕𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗗𝗮𝗻 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲:

A/n: A few really random headcanons I have for Dan x Mc. No pronoun mention except at one point I didn’t know how else to say it differently, I’m sorry. Sorry for the possible crack English my head is full. Have fun. 🥃

Watching horror movies together, in the cinema or at home, preferably at home.

Riding together on his motorcycle.

Spontaneous short trips/weekend trips with his motorcycle.

Going to the gym with him or at least he tries to persuade you to come with him.

Doing boxing training with him and he will teach you simple things.

Having a protein fitness day together.

Spending a lot of time at tattoo studios.

Going to metal/rock concerts/festivals.

Having to settle disputes between him and someone else very often.

Bringing him food when he has a job as a security guard again.

Trying to sneak up on properties or hiding on exhibition grounds to test Dan’s security skills, and if it goes wrong, letting him save you.

Often fresh flowers as a gift from him.

Then asking him every time if he has these from his job and then saying: "Oh forgot about it, you don’t work there anymore."

Spending the whole evening in the Aurora and watching him work and mixing drinks.

Laughing at him when he still has difficulty mixing drinks at the beginning.

Visiting the Black Swan with him and then behaving embarrassing and quite badly, simply because it annoys others.

Motorcycle & Tattoo exhibitions.

Going to a whiskey tasting.

Constantly not knowing who he’s talking about because he’s using weird nicknames again

Sitting somewhere together and thinking up weird nicknames for people passing by.

Often having to push him with the elbow in the ribs because he is again, for no reason, too rude.

Dan will always open all doors for you.

Dan will always stand behind you like your bodyguard and protect you without if-and-but.

Frequent visits to his mother.

Dan will always send you many memes, also many he made himself. "Honey look, I was bored again."

Getting a special leather jacket from him, which clearly shows that you both are a couple.

'Her King' - 'His Queen' bedding. (Idk but I really feel it xD)

Making him a braid quite often.

Making lots of little braids out of his beard.

[hyeitsju]

Loona on the first date!! pt.2

(Loona x FEMALE Reader)

Note(pls read!!):

I got bored so I wrote this. It’s not gonna be perfection, just a short fun thing. reader is short in this! She’s my height (4’11) but if you want Loona w taller reader, just request it! Seriously, y’all, I’m pretty sure my request box is growing cobwebs.

🐟jinsoul/jinsol🐟

(Friends to lovers here, y’all were like besties until she asked you out)

(I actually pulled this idea straight outta my ass, sorry if it sucks)

I think the first date would be a regular sleepover

It’s as if y’all are still regular friends

Playing board and card games

Eating a ton of snacks in her bed while you watch a movie

And she definitely holds your hand through the whole thing

Eventually though, you both get hungry and decide to walk to a convenience store at 2 am

You both grab WAYY too many snacks and when you go to pay, she immediately gives the cashier her card before you could even say anything

Then when you get back and get back into her bed to each the snacks

She steals almost all of yours

You both watch a sad movie like train to busan

And she definitely laughs when you cry

But still comforts you but hugging you and running her fingers through your hair

Although still letting out small giggles ever so often

After you each are done getting ready for bed you just lay down and quietly talk about random stuff while looking at each other in the dark until one of you falls asleep

I feel like she would initiate the first kiss then, when you are looking at each other while laying down in the dark

You are whispering about something random, maybe college, work, or something of the sort

And she’s just staring deep into your eyes with heart eyes and a small smile on her lips

Before she grabs your cheeks and leans in to place a passionate kiss on your lips

And would have the biggest smile on her face after, before pulling you in for a big hug with your face in her neck

Finally falling asleep

🦇choerry/yerim🦇

(Y’all already knew each other and talked occasionally before you started dating for this)

I feel like she’d def take you to an aquarium for the first date

Holding hands while walking through every exhibit

She definitely does all of the talking, she just can’t help it

But after you reciprocated her energy, she’s over the moon

Constant rambles about how much she likes you and how she’s so happy you like her back

Gives you kisses like it’s NOTHING

And is all confused when you’re suprised

Excited yells when she finds cute animals

You already know she’s looking at pictures of a flapjack octopus and saying “I want one!!”

Honestly same

SOOO many polaroid photos of you and pictures posted on her instagram

If you told someone that day that her instagram account is a fan account for you, they’d believe you

Is already planning your wedding in her mind

When you reach the end of the exhibit and see the gift shop, she buys you so much stuff from there it’s actually insane

Afterwards she drives you to a ice cream shop and you both eat ice cream in her car while watching YouTube videos on your phone until the sky turns dark

Is all pouty when your dorm mates start texting you, reminding you that it’s almost curfew

After you get out of the car she’s already texting you details about the next date

🦢yves/sooyoung🦢

IM OBSESSED WITH THIS YVES AKSJHD

I feel like y’all would go to a pottery class together

Is so focused

She chooses to make a mug while you go with one of those flat bowls (idk what they’re called fr)

Hers would def be the best out of everyone else’s

Helping you out on yours

After teasing you for needing help, ofc

Chatting as you work on the pottery pieces

It’s mostly hee listening to you, tho

Mostly because she’s way too focused on shaping her piece

But also because she loves listening to your voice

Constantly complimenting you, just to make you blush

When your pieces are done you come back a few days later to paint and glaze it (idk how long, I googled and everyone told me smth diff so I chose this)

You both give your pieces to each other to paint

So your painting her mug and she’s painting your bowl

She sooo does the little (S+?) thingy at the bottom😭😭

Loves the design you do, constantly complimenting it

When she gets it back she will cherish it

Never lets anyone use it, it just sits on her nightstand untouched except for when she occasionally cleans it from dust every few days

Whenever someone asks where she got it from she goes on a whole rant about how you’re the best gf and made it for her (even tho she made the mug)

🐧chuu/jiwoo🐧

Okay, this is actually so cute but hee showing you around her hometown for the first date ahhhh!!!

She would start at some stores she often goes to, happily chatting with any people who happen to recognize her

Then going to her favorite café

Ordering you her usual and staring excitedly as you eat it, waiting for your opinion

Squealed so loud you swear your ears will burst when she hears that you like it

“I know!! It’s so good, right!”

Next she goes down her neighborhood, stopping at her house to visit her family who happily greet you

Making you stay to eat something quickly, asking you so many questions

Very welcoming, though

Automatically they take you in as their child

After that, she takes you to the park at the end of the street

Sitting on the bench with you while holding your hand and giggling together as you both watch the kids play

Eventually you have to go, sending you off to the bus back home with a huge pout and a bone crushing hug

Already blowing up your phone before the bus even leaves the station

🦋gowon/chaewon🦋

Y’all would go to a café

Specifically, a café that she is a regular at

She introduces you to the owner of the small coffee shop, who she has grown close, who’s delighted to see you

Having already heard Gowon mention you about a million times

Which he makes sure to mention to you in front of Gowon who smacks her shoulder before giving you a tight and embarrassed smile

She orders her regular and the owner brings you out a few deserts and a coffee on the house

Thanking you for making Gowon happy

You two talk about anything and everything

You find out quickly that you two are extremely similar

She of course teases you occasionally when she gets more comfortable

Which makes you blush and smile at the same time, happy she’s being more like herself

Initiates hand holding and what not

Often putting her hand on your thigh when she laughs

Or having an arm around your waist just because she can

It makes her smile big but it also makes her heart race in nervousness

The conversation continues, even after your cups are empty and your stomachs are full

Eventually it gets late and the shop has to close

So you head out and walk around to a park where you talk about random stuff as you sit on the swing sets under the moonlight

Your roommate eventually comes to pick you up, sadly

You reluctantly go, giving Gowon a hug and reaching up to give her a kiss on the cheek which gives her a heart attack

She’s standing there holding her cheek for the next 5 after you leave

Frantically texting her friends as she walks back home with a huge grin on her face

🐺hyeju🐺

(You knew each other through mutual friends and she was already in love with you, like, a year prior to finally asking you out Yves forced her)

SHE LOOKED TEW FINE HERE, ITS LIKE SHE WANTED ME DEAD

Just a chill at home date at her dorm

Super quiet at first

She doesn’t wanna mess anything up,

Even tho you’ve told her countless times that you love her for her and that she doesn’t need to hold herself back when she’s with you

Is sooo happy when Gureum loves you

Cuz he’s basically her child

Just listening to you talk about switching dog food brands like it’s the most interesting thing in the world 😭😭

With the biggest heart eyes in the world, you can almost see the outline of her eyes shifting to creat the hearts

Constantly staring at you as if she’s lost in your beauty

Which she probably is

I mean, look at you

Your stunning

Eventually when you notice her lack of conversation or movement you suggest playing video games with her

Because you know she loves that

That’s what gets her to loosen up and actually start making jokes that make you laugh

A laugh that she has quickly fallen in love with

Once she notices, however, that you’re getting a bit sad that you have yet to win a single game

She lets you choose one and lets you win it

Pretending to be upset whilst you jump up in happiness

Holding back a smile at the sight of yours

Ordering food for the both of you to eat while watching a tv show.

At the end of the night she decides to walk you to your dorm seeing as you only live the floor above hers

And then looks like she’s having a heat stroke when you give her a kiss on the cheek

Acting like she didn’t like it even though, secretly, she’s wanting more of them from you

Actually kinda sad once your gone

Spends the rest of the night about you

More specifically, the way you make her feel..

Note:

This actually took way longer than I thought but I actually think I did good on this for once.

I hope y’all like it!! Please remember to request, seriously, I don’t mind!!!

[mtreebeardiles]

Trials & Tribulations, WIP

Finding little bits and pieces I can start writing and idk when I'll be done with it since I got A Lot Happening but this character started talking randomly today and who am I to ignore him? From "Trials & Tribulations," Everett Shepard's pre-ME1 story

Finding time for yourself was virtually impossible on a ship that crewed nearly 300 people. Despite a plethora of decks, messes, lounges, and quarters divided up amongst the different command chains, there was always someone somewhereeven when they probably weren’t supposed to be.

Exhibit A: fighter pilot Jordan Keens, sneaking into the officers’ mess after hours.

Exhibit B: unknown white boy in an oversized hoodie already in the mess hall, eating what appeared to be some honest to god chocolate chip cookies while he read a data pad.

And not the shitty air sealed ones Dario ordered last time.

Jordan narrowed his eyes at the same time his stomach gave an audible rumble. Either it was louder than he thought or the guy had amazing hearing, because his head jerked up a split-second later.

“Uh.” 

Gray eyes seemed to pin him to the spot, an intensity in that gaze that made Jordan hyper aware of himself in a way that bordered on uncomfortable. It eased as the scrutiny did, however, and he exhaled slowly. 

“Sorry,” he went on, flashing the stranger a lopsided grin. “Usually no one’s here, uh. I’m um. I’m Jordan Keens — Flight-Second Jordan Keens, with Torrent Squadron.”

He inwardly cursed at how jumbled his words were getting, but it was kind of the other guy’s fault for not wearing any uniform with clear rank markings. Jordan may have shown up in his varren slippers, but the rest of his uniform was technically appropriate. 

“Lieutenant Commander Everett Shepard,” the stranger replied. The words didn’t come easily from his lips, almost as if he wanted to hold them back. Jordan didn’t think much of it, too busy flashing a hasty salute the moment he heard “commander,” brain trying to remember why the rest of it sounded familiar, too. He wasn’t part of the regular Tokyocrew; maybe he was the newcomer Merrick had mentioned earlier?

“Ah, shit, sorry — erm, I mean, sir. Sorry, sir. Ah, fuck.”

Jordan was now keenly aware of his slippers, especially as the Commander finally glanced down and took note of them. 

A small smile tugged at the man’s lips, his guard slipping ever so slightly before he smoothed his expression back to neutral.

“At ease,” he murmured. “Wasn’t expecting anyone, either, if I’m honest.” His gaze flicked down to the plate of cookies before him before glancing back at Jordan, and Jordan could sense his hesitation even as he added, "did you… would you like some?"

"Cookies?"

"They're fresh-baked."

Sold. 

"Don't mind if I do!" Jordan knew he needed an actual snack, but a lifelong sweet-tooth skewed his priorities at the best of times and he'd been standing there long enough to pick up on the faint scent in the air that all but confirmed the guy was telling the truth -- these were fresh, still warm to the touch as he scooped one up, chocolate going deliciously gooey in his mouth at that first bite. 

"Oh mah gahd…" A hand over his mouth saved some of his dignity, though he caught the return of the small smile on the Commander's lips when he opened his eyes again. He swallowed, flashing him a wide grin of his own. "These are so good -- er. Sir."

"Thank you."

Jordan blinked, taking a moment to piece it together. A glance around the mess confirmed that they were alone, and if these were fresh, and the Commander seemed pleased that he liked them…

"…wait. You made these?"

A faint flush rose in Shepard's cheeks. "I did."

"Holy crap like -- holy crap!" He looked towards the kitchenette, spotting honest to god sugar, mixing bowls… "You made these from scratch!"

"Um. Was that a question or a statement?"

"On a ship! Who bakes on a ship?"

"Not every meal is from a box…"

"Well okay, sure, we get some good stuff every now and then as a treat but like! Not actual treats! Hey, what division are you with? I don't think I know you."

It occurred to Jordan as his mouth went off a mile a minute that he was being pretty forward, if not blatantly familiar, with a superior officer. But Shepard didn't seem to mind, another twitch of that smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and that steely gaze he'd greeted him with had eased into something almost…

Kind. Maybe even a little shy. 

"Marine detail," he replied.

"Ah, damn." 

An eyebrow cocked, and Jordan hurried to explain, "Was kinda hopin' you were with the flight crew."

"Oh." A pause. "Why?"

"Because if there's gonna be some crazy talented baker just hanging out on the ship, I want dibs on that friendship, y'know?"

Jordan's smile was back, and he waggled his eyebrows for good measure to assure the other man that he was joking -- mostly. 

"We can't be friends if we're not in the same division?" Both eyebrows were raised now.

"Welllll sure, but Marines, y'know?" Jordan wrinkled his nose for added effect.

"Traditionally assholes, sure," Shepard replied without missing a beat. He met Jordan's eye and this time the smile did more than twitch, and the next thing he knew they were laughing. Shepard gave the plate a nudge towards the center of the table, an open invitation for Jordan to take as many as he liked. The young pilot wasted no time helping himself to another. 

"But all jokes aside, these are so good -- Shepard, was it?" The Commander nodded. "And I'm not just sayin' that 'cause I usually eat that cardboard crap the mess sergeant gets us from time to time. My grandma's the best baker I've ever known, so trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about."

"Can't argue against grandma's baking," Shepard agreed easily enough. He snagged a cookie for himself, Jordan only belatedly realizing he'd already worked through three while Shepard had just finished his first, and he watched as the Commander's fingers delicately broke that one in half. 

He has really nice hands, he thought, unbidden, and shook his head. He rested his elbows on the table, cradling his chin in his hands as he observed the other man a moment. He didn't seem much older than Jordan himself -- somewhere in his early to mid-twenties, maybe? Pale-skinned, hints of freckles along a strong nose, with dark, reddish-brown hair that seemed to want to curl at the ends but couldn't thanks to how short it was cut. He looked familiar, but Jordan couldn't quite place him.

"So you new to the Tokyo?"

"I am."

"Hmm…" 

Shepard's eyes met his briefly before looking down again as he carefully took another bite of his cookie. He shifted a little in his seat and Jordan shook himself again. 

"Sorry, I'm staring, aren't I? I just feel like… Maybe I've seen you somewhere before?"

"…possibly."

The atmosphere seemed to change then, a subtle shift from something approaching friendly banter to something more…reserved. Closed off. Shepard's lips were flattened into a thin line, and there was a tension creeping over him as Jordan watched. 

Okay, stumbled on a bad tack. Jordan was just opening his mouth to redirect the conversation back to more comfortable waters when Shepard got to his feet. 

Fuck, he's tall. Probably a good head taller than Jordan was, at least.

"You, um. You can have the rest of these." 

"I --"

"Good night, Flight-Second."

"…good night…" Jordan blinked after him, bemused, until Shepard had slipped out of the door opposite and out of sight. 

It was only then that Jordan remembered he should've saluted, but then...  Shepard hadn't seemed to expect him to.

What an odd duck.

He looked down at the plate of cookies and shrugged, helping himself to another before going to search for a bag to keep them in.