#my current knowledge is a couple of interviews and 'I me mind'

[georgeharrisonsmiling]

George sided with John against Paul in the whole mess with Klein. It should count as a crime that Paul was left alone after everything he did for them.

No. Even if in hindsight Klein caused a lot of trouble, the others had every reason to reject being managed by Paul's new family, George in particular.

In one interview after Anthology, Paul mentioned how he was glad that he was finally able to tell his side about the split and lawsuit to George and Ringo, which led me to believe that, at the peak crisis, he kind of put George and Ringo aside to focus on John. Meanwhile John took the time to convince them and explain why he thought that Klein would be a good match for the group.

Finally, George didn't sign with Klein just because John told him to or wanted to put Paul down. I think Friar Park is what finally convinced him to keep Klein.

[nattaphum]

Earlier this year at the Gateway of India in Mumbai, Phakphum Romsaithong — or more affectionately known by his nickname “Mile” — was spotted at the Dior Women’s Fall ’23 show together with fellow co-star “Apo” Nattawin Wattanagitiphat. There was plenty of buzz surrounding their attendance: #MileApo appeared on Twitter’s trending page, while “Did Mile and Apo come to India” became one of many common Google searches about the two actors. Despite being just two years into their careers in the Thai entertainment industry, the duo requires no introduction — and it is all thanks to the seminal action and romance television series KinnPorsche: The Series.

Since it first aired on 2 April 2022 after a year of production delays, the show consistently trended worldwide as each weekly episode arrived. While a shift in scriptwriting — especially as the story pursues themes of the Mafia with darker, complex themes that most series in Thailand have shied away from — many have reasoned that the natural interactions of Mile and Apo in the series are a rarity. Coupled with an intense promotional strategy that saw graphic teasers each time an episode was announced and a slew of behind-the-scenes footage available in durations twice as much as the series, it made sense why these actors have rapidly risen into contemporary pop culture knowledge.

While we have come to know both Mile and Apo, rarely do we get a glimpse of Mile without his tether to Apo. Once a communications and journalism graduate, the 31-year old — who never expected that acting would be his calling — has been going back and forth between personas. For faithful fans, he might be Kinn but within closed doors, Mile remains just as he was before the series. Two years on, Mile is still intensely committed to his fans. “I approach my work with an open mind, not knowing the extent of its potential success,” Mile mentions. “Nevertheless, my main focus remains on giving my absolute best and ensuring the happiness of those who witness it. Their satisfaction is of utmost importance to me.”

Hello Mile, how are you these days?

I’m currently doing well, although quite occupied at the moment. If we were to represent it as a graph, it might appear as a lull period. However, I am utilising this time to engage in self-care — both physically and mentally — and to make necessary preparations.


What did it feel like waking up the morning the show debuted? 


I’m thrilled to be addicted to the series once again. Its irresistible charm keeps me coming back for more, just like others who are captivated by its captivating story. Seeing people enjoy it and receiving positive feedback brings me immense joy. These moments are truly cherished, and I take great pleasure in being a part of it.

In a few interviews, you mentioned that a career as an actor and singer/songwriter was not your first choice. Looking back, do you still have any reservations about acting?

Each of us harbours a multitude of aspirations, not confined to a singular goal. For me, true fulfilment lies in pursuing what truly ignites my passion and brings me joy. I am steadfast in my commitment to constant self-preparation and growth.

When presented with an opportunity, I choose to wholeheartedly embrace it — giving nothing short of my best. I am prepared to immerse myself in the pursuits that captivate my interest, dedicating my heart and soul to them. Though it may not be my ultimate objective, I am aware of my deep desire to embark on this path and so, I persistently ready myself for it.

Your life has now changed seeing that you are arguably one of Thailand’s most recognisable personalities. What is one thing you miss from before your fame arrived?

Engaging in conversations with strangers holds a special place in my heart. As of right now — due to time constraints — I haven���t had the opportunity to fully immerse myself like that anymore. The days of encounters and spontaneous conversations with unfamiliar faces have become a rarity. However, such encounters have always been a source of genuine enjoyment for me. The sheer pleasure of conversing with individuals from all walks of life knows no bounds. Regardless of their background or disposition, I find immense fulfilment in the simple act of exchanging thoughts and ideas.

Any moments with your fans that have had a lasting impact on you?

Each encounter with my fans brings an overwhelming sense of joy and fulfilment. Lately, I’ve been immersed in reading the heartfelt messages written on cards by my devoted supporters. I’m already halfway through this heartfelt endeavour. Last night, I came across a touching note from a fan expressing their desire to learn English in order to communicate with me. It’s remarkable to witness the lengths people go to — dedicating their time and efforts to learning languages like Thai, English, or even regional dialects — solely for the purpose of connection. Their dedication truly moves me.

You are almost inseparable from Apo, both on and off-screen. What is your most fond memory of him?

It has been twelve years since we coincidentally worked together, and his unique appearance remains vivid in my memory. Recently, passionate fans stumbled upon a video of our first meeting, leaving me pleasantly surprised. This unexpected revelation serves as a gentle reminder of life’s unpredictable nature, occasionally gifting us with delightful surprises along our journey.

On fashion, Mile elaborates that “the fashion world captivates us and draws us into its allure. Active participation in this industry involves immersing myself among talented stylists and continuously expanding knowledge.” But while Mumbai is not his first breakthrough with Dior, Mile has always had his eye on fashion. “I actually embarked on this journey at the age of eight,” Mile explains. “Seeing my mother in beautifully crafted clothes when I was young and experiencing the influence of television were transformative moments that sparked my passion for the captivating world of fashion.”

Tell us more about the Dior Men Fall 2023 collection you are wearing today. What did you like most about it? 


This collection exudes an exceptional uniqueness and embodies the distinctive character that Dior presents. I was remarkably comfortable during my time in Mumbai, which pleasantly surprised me. Despite the inquiries from others about its potential heat-inducing qualities, I found it to be quite the opposite. Even with its simple yet captivating designs and understated colour palette, it effortlessly stands out. Wearing these pieces becomes easy and is an enjoyable experience. Rather than mere excitement, my emotions were fueled by an intense enthusiasm when I delved deeper into the realm of Dior.

How about your first fashion show with Dior, what was it like?


Attending a fashion show proved to be a transformative experience, one that expanded the horizons of my perception. It was a delightful and invigorating journey, allowing me to witness the unfolding of a whole new world. The show by Dior in the enchanting city of Paris was truly remarkable. Each garment conveyed a profound message, intricately woven into the fabric of the event. This combination of creativity and storytelling made for an unforgettable spectacle.

Are there any Dior items in your wardrobe that you would consider your favourite?

I love the Dior Lingot bag in the large size, I believe it is the 50. It truly holds everything I need. And when you have a very busy schedule, a large bag is just what you need.

Yet, despite the tremendous achievements he currently possesses, the story is far from over for Mile. In some ways, KinnPorsche could be likened to only the dawn in what promises to be an impressive career. Be On Cloud — the company managing Mile and Apo as well as a host of other up-and-rising Thai stars — has recently announced a new film later this year and it involves Mile as its lead actor. Titled Man Suang — an ancient descriptor which translates to a “heavenly city of gods and angels” — the film will be set around the emerging Thai kingdom and its historical inception as a modern civilisation in epic proportions. Teased as a complete departure from the contemporary themes explored with KinnPorsche, the film has been marked as one of the largest and most ambitious film projects in Thailand with a production budget that rivals even that of Hollywood.

Much of what is shown in the trailer is meant to mislead, Mile teases, with more yet to be revealed at this point of writing. Apo will return as Mile’s co-star, but with a different dynamic between both actors this time. Its quality is meant to be top-notched too and make no mistake, there is plenty of anticipation for the film to be huge — the film’s trailer arrived weeks before its premiere at the 76th annual Cannes Film Festival, suggesting that Be On Cloud has its eyes on taking the film all over the globe.

There has been quite a bit of buzz about Be On Cloud’s Man Suang, especially since there has not been much information released at this moment other than its debut at this year’s Cannes Film Festival. It is noteworthy to mention that the film marks your first main role in a motion picture. Can you tell us more about it? 


This movie carries a truly unique essence, captivating its viewers with a narrative that invites imagination and contemplation. It weaves a mysterious tapestry intertwined with the rich traditions and stories that unfolded in Thailand during the Rattanakosin period. The beauty lies in the artful portrayal of each character as they share their tale, allowing us to witness the profound transformations that humans undergo. It serves as a reminder that our beliefs — though held strongly — may not always yield definitive outcomes, offering a glimpse into the diverse possibilities that exist.

Let’s also get into the fact that it will be a historical film, and it marks a departure from the contemporary style of KinnPorsche. What kind of research did you do to get into the role?

For every character I embody, I dedicate myself to meticulous preparation, adopting a consistent approach. I delve into the era in which the character resides, immersing myself in its historical backdrop. It is almost like method acting and it is very similar to how I live my life. This thorough understanding enables me to comprehend the motives behind their actions and thoughts. I am grateful to be surrounded by a supportive team that encourages my creativity throughout this process, granting me the freedom to explore and bring my own unique perspective to the role.

While it is a new project for you, you will be starring alongside Apo again. Will we see a different dynamic between the characters both of you are slated to play? 


In every performance I deliver, there lies a remarkable blend of 90% embodiment of the character and a 10% essence of my own being. This 90% is a testament to my growth as an actor, an opportunity for people to witness my evolution through each role I undertake. I wholeheartedly invite audiences to appreciate the dedication and effort I invest in every project. As each character holds a unique identity, spectators will recognise the striking distinction, unveiling the diverse range and versatility I hope I can bring to the stage or screen.

Before we end, would you like to share any messages with your fans? 


My heartfelt gratitude goes out to all the devoted fans who have supported me wholeheartedly throughout my journey. Your unwavering support has touched me deeply and means the world to me. Thank you for being there, from the bottom of my heart.

[LINK]

[authoralexharvey]

INTERVIEW WITH A WRITEBLR — @andromedaexists

Who You Are:

Andromeda || He/they

I am a student in undergrad with a Classics major and two minors in Latin and Attic Greek that likes to write!

What You Write:

What genres do you write in? What age ranges do you write for?

Fantasy, Horror, Tragedy. New Adult and Adult

What genre would you write in for the rest of your life, if you could? What about that genre appeals to you?

Tragedy 100%

What genre/s will you not write unless you HAVE to? What about that genre turns you off?

High Fantasy. I do write fantasy, but the world of high fantasy are just something that I cannot figure out on my own. I'm also very particular on what high fantasy I will read because of how hard it is for me to keep everything straight.

Who is your target audience? Do you think anyone outside of that would get anything out of your works?

I think my ideal target audience is the social outcasts. I write for the queers, the country folk, and disabled folk. Honestly now that I put it like that, I write for myself and people like me. People that have been overlooked for far too long in media in my opinion.

What kind of themes do you tend to focus on? What kinds of tropes? What about them appeals to you?

I focus a lot on expressing emotion and anger in my writing. My stories tend to revolve around characters who are angry for one reason or another. Icarus is angry about his abuse under the ATLAS program, Kit is angry about the lies that the church has spread for centuries and the fact that they kept a God chained in the basement, Ash is angry that he opened himself up to love only to have it taken from him too early. These themes drew me in and kept me captive for so long now that they became my home. I think it originally started because I am autistic and was raised without that knowledge. As a country kid who doesn't quite grasp what's socially appropriate, you end up being pigeon-holed and told that the only appropriate emotion is anger. I have spent a long time unlearning this, but good lord is there a lot to be angry about in life and this is how I get to express it. Anger and hatred run rampant in my stories alongside other themes and tropes. I am quite fond of found family and every piece of writing I produce does contain that to a certain extent.

What themes or tropes can you not stand? What about them turn you off?

I cannot stand the common trope of older person with a barely legal lover. It is very 'popular' in literature right now and I just cannot stand it. It creeps me out, frankly. Like, why couldn't they find a lover their own age? Or, better yet, why not just write the older lover as someone with a reasonable age for the main character? Why does he have to be hundreds or thousands of years old? Why couldn't he be in his twenties, too?

What are you currently working on? How long have you been working on it?

I have a couple projects under my belt at the moment. My biggest project is Call Me Icarus, the book that introduced me to the writeblr community in the first place! It is a tragedy following Icarus as he takes a look behind the curtain of the Elysian Program and sees the disgusting framework that he was disillusioned to. Now the only thing on his mind is bringing down the program and the entire ATLAS corporation. Will he be able to when the world seems set against him? Who knows! I sure don't, I haven't written that far yet😅 My next project is Desecrate, a novella exploring the idea of a slight change in history and the creation of the Catholic Church. Basically, what if there were two gods instead of just one and we chained the God of the Material in the basement? My final project is just a collection of short stories. I plan on writing a short story every month this year to just keep myself writing. So far, I have Death Comes For Us All, a short story about grief and losing a loved one. This month (February) will be a retelling of Orpheus & Eurydice's myth!

Why do you write? What keeps you writing?

I write because I want to. Honestly, I write because I had an idea for a story I'd like to read and realized that no one else was going to write it. When I tell you that I am going to read and re-read Call Me Icarus so many times when I publish it. I am so excited!

How long have you been writing? What do you think first drew you to it?

I have been writing on and off my entire life, but once I entered high school and college it switched strictly to academic and scientific writing. As far as creative writing goes, I did Power of the Pen in middle school (A competition where we had an hour to hand-write a story from scratch). I didn't pick up creative writing again until last year when I started Call Me Icarus.

Where do you get your inspiration from? Is that how you got your inspiration for your current project? If not, where did the inspiration come from?

I get inspiration from everywhere. I like to write about the modern times, and take my inspiration from wherever I can. However, the way I do this is through a lens of the past. With my major being in Classics, I tend to read a lot of ancient stories and documents. These tend to give me interesting ideas and perspectives on today's issues that I end up putting on paper!

What work of yours are you most proud of? Why?

I am extremely proud of Call Me Icarus so far. It has been a roller coaster, but I am extremely proud of how well I am managing to get down exactly what I am thinking. As far as actually published works, I am proud of Death Comes For Us All. IT is a hard read, as it is supposed to be, but it is written well and makes you feel. Do I know what it makes you feel? No, I can only speak for myself. But more me, I am able to feel Ash's anger and sadness when I read the story.

Have you published anything? Do you want to?

Kinda? I put Death Comes For Us All up on my Ko-Fi, but it's technically not publish truly yet. I plan on publishing it officially in an anthology at the end of the year. I do want to be published. I was looking at Nathrheim Publishing here on Tumblr as a home for Call Me Icarus since it would fit well there, however I am now looking at other publishing houses. I want to traditionally publish, but I am also open to self publishing if I can't find a home for my works for any reason (the trans main character. That's going to be the biggest hurdle). (ALEX: It's been over a year since I collected this interview and now CMI has been published!!)

What part of the publishing process most appeals to you? What part least appeals to you?

I am looking forward to the design aspect. I have ideas for what I want the cover of CMI to look like, but I am obviously no artist. I am really looking forward to what an actual artist can do with it! I just really love the idea of giving someone my book and being like "what visual image to you think encompasses this story". I wanna see what all people come up with! One the other hand, though, I am not looking forward to editing. I tend to become… set in my ways. I like what I write and don't take criticism well (unless I specifically ask for it). I know this is something that I will have to get over and deal with, but I have heard horror stories of editors basically changing a story through the editing process and I Do Not Want that.

What part of the writing process most appeals to you? What part is least appealing?

Ironically my favorite part of the writing process is editing. Like, everything is down on paper and I get to polish it and make it into exactly what I want! What isn't there to love about that! Going in hand with that, my least favorite part of the writing process is the writing. I have a thing where my brain gets really upset if what I write isn't perfect right out the gate. This makes it difficult to just get the story out! Some recent advice that I'm trying to take to heart though is the idea that the first draft is just to get the idea on paper, the second draft is to transcribe it into your language of choice (for me, English).

Do you have a writing process? Do you have an ideal setup? Do you write in pure chaos? Talk about your process a bit.

🤣 now that's a funny question, Alex. My writing process is "Open Scrivener and stare at the same three words until I get tired and go to bed". I am trying to establish a better process, but it's really hard. I have a tendency to actually write when I'm not supposed to, so I keep Scrivener open now and write in the down times between classes or during 'mandatory meetings'. As far as a setup goes, I've got it good. I have three monitors and a laptop as well as a desktop (thank you work). I have Scrivener on both, so I can type in my good good work setup as well as anywhere else I wanna write. In the warmer months I tend to sit out on my balcony and write or take my laptop with me down to my little nook on the river. It's wonderful! I feel like "Writing in pure chaos" is the perfect way to explain my writing method. As you know, one of the quotes I live by is "Be the Chaos you wish to see in the world" and my writing is no different. I live and thrive in chaos!

Your Thoughts on Writeblr:

How long have you been a writeblr? What inspired you to join the community?

I have been in writeblr for about 6 months. I originally joined when I asked my at-the-time studyblr if I should write a novel. From there, writeblr found me, abducted me, and bribed me to stay with good company and amazing reads!

Shout out some of your favorite writeblrs. How did you find them and what made you want to follow them?

oooo there's so many! Well, first on the list is you! You were one of the first writeblrs to find me and actually talk to me and I will always appreciate that! I'm going to do this sort of rapid-fire, because there are so many wonderful people I have met on here! let's start with @writingpotato07, who is just so kind and supportive all the time! There's also @crypticcodexcreations, @smol-feralgremil, @writteninstarlight, @lockejhaven, @inkspellangel, and @witherednightmare who I would describe as my closes friends on this side of the internet! There's also @wildjuniperjones (one of my writeblr parental units), @the-finch-address (and fleet two, both of y'all are amazing and great to have as friends), @artbyeloquent, @howlingbreeze, @flowerprose, and so many more! honestly too many to list out!! A lot of these people found me first, and all of them have amazing wips and great personalities that keep me following them!

What is your favorite part about writeblr?

I really like the community. I have run into an issue as of late with certain people, but even with that damper the community is still just so accepting and loving. I have met amazing people through here and hope to meet many more in the future!

What do you think writeblr could improve on? How do you think we can go about doing so?

I think we need to work on not attacking each other. I have seen too many people take just one line of a multi paragraph post and twist it to fit their perceived "wrong" and then use it against others. I firmly stand against doing that, especially now that I have been on the receiving end of it. I think we collectively need to do better about reading a person's whole post and understanding that not everything is a personal attack, sometimes things are just worded wrong in the heat of emotion.

How do you contribute to the writeblr community? Do you think you could be doing more?

I like to participate in events and send asks to people! I also post my own writing and do my best to reblog other's writing and encourage them. I don't think there is anything more I could be doing, I know there is. I can always be more present and just do better at being here and being happy and encouraging. However, I am just a human and am trying my darndest!

What kinds of posts do you most like to interact with?

Lore posts! I love learning about other people's lore!

What kind of posts do you most like to make?

I like sharing my writing and making shitposts about my characters

Finally, anywhere else online we may be able to find you?

I am technically on twitter still, tho not really. I do have a tiktok @/andromedatalks that I plan on starting up again! Other than that, not really. i just like my anonymous corner of the internet over here lol

[how2fit]

Today I want to share 12 tips that have been really useful for me to calm my anxiety in everyday life. Because if you’re anything like me you have been there many times. You’re sitting in a waiting room. Or just waiting somewhere. Soon it will begin. Your leg is starting to shake nervously. Your hands are starting to sweat and maybe your mouth feels a bit dry. Your thoughts are becoming jumbled, it is hard to focus and to think as clearly as you usually do. Maybe you have an important test in school. A job interview. An appointment with your doctor or dentist. A date that you are looking forward to but at the same time you are scared to make a fool of yourself on. Whatever it may be it is making you anxious. Now, these self-help tips are for relieving low or medium levels of anxiety. They are not intended for anxiety attacks or anything that serious. I know nothing about such things and would recommend that you seek professional help in such situations. 1. Breathe. Sit down, in a quiet place if possible. Breathe a little deeper than usual and do it with your belly and not with your chest. For just a minute or two focus on only the air going in and out of your nostrils. Nothing else. This will calm your mind and body down. And it will bring your attention back to the present moment instead of it being lost in overthinking scary, future scenarios or bad memories from the past. 2. Get good knowledge. Dispel the clouds of uncertainty and vague fears by researching what you have anxiety about. By talking to people who have done what you are about to do or want to do – or by reading what they have written – you can build a more realistic roadmap with both positives and negatives of how things are likely to go. And learn how to improve in the area that gives you anxiety. Do research on the best ways to become better at and less nervous when – for instance – doing public speaking, job interviews or presentations at work or in school. 3. Do a quick workout. I like to lift heavy weights for about 30 minutes when I feel worried, stressed or anxious. It makes me feel stronger both in mind and body. It releases inner tensions and relaxes me. Others go out for a quick run, walk or bike ride when they feel anxious. Find a way to exercise that fits you and lets you reap these benefits and counteract anxiety. 4. Focus on something else. Sometimes it is more helpful to simply redirect your mind instead of thinking about what creates your current anxiety. Especially if you have no control over the situation that causes the anxiety like for example an upcoming appointment with your doctor or the dentist. So focus your attention somewhere else for a while and recharge it with something positive. Watch a couple of episodes of your favorite sit-com or TV-series. Browse your favorite social media feeds. Have relaxing or upbeat evening with friends. Do something that takes your mind off the situation that causes anxiety, even if it is just for a few hours. After that recharge you will not only likely feel better but you will also be in a better headspace and at a higher energy level to handle and think about the anxious situation. 5. Don’t forget to eat. When I forget to eat because I am stressed and anxious then that only tends to worsen my state of mind. It becomes harder to think clearly and negative scenarios more easily pop up in my mind. So even if you don’t feel that hungry keep an eye on the clock and if you may be running low on fuel. 6. Focus on what you can do. When you ask yourself questions that make you feel powerless or like things will only get worse and worse then you take away your personal power. Empower yourself by instead asking yourself: What is one small thing I can do to improve upon this situation today? Write that question down and brainstorm answers for a few minutes. Then take action on one of the answers you find. It doesn’t have to be a big action, just one small step forward. And when you are done with it then take another one.

This movement forward will make you feel like you are starting to regain control over your life again, it will make you feel at least a bit more confident and it, in my experience, tends to reduce the anxiety. 7. Question your worries and anxiety. Look to your own past and ask yourself: How many situations that I have been anxious about in the past have turned out to be exaggerations or me making a mountain out of a molehill in my mind? Question your anxiety and worries instead of letting them roam freely. 8. Remember: You’ve handled tough situations in the past. When you are standing in the middle of anxiety and fear bubbling up within then it is easy to get dragged down with it. To lose faith in yourself and your abilities. When that happens focus on your breathing first to calm and clear your mind. Then look to the past for a bit of strength and confidence in what you can do. Doing this helps me to go from feeling powerless to feeling like I am standing on firmer ground again. 9. Let the feeling in to let it go. Sometimes an anxious feeling can feel sticky and vague. You don’t know exactly where it is coming from or what is causing it. It can be hard to get rid of. A bit of an odd solution that has worked well for me in such situations is this: When you feel a negative feeling then allow and accept that feeling. Don’t try to keep it out. Don’t try to fight it. Even though many of us have learned to do those two things to negative feelings throughout life. Instead, this time, just let it in and observe the feeling in your mind and body without judging it. If you let it in and just observe it for a couple of minutes something wonderful happens. First it may feel uncomfortable and more intense. But then the feeling loses power. It weakens. Often to the point that it just vanishes. Or so you can let it go without much effort. Because when you accept the feeling and let it in you stop feeding it with more energy (as you would when you tried your hardest to keep it out or to fight it). 10. Let it out into the light. When you keep something inside of you then your head can become an echo chamber that magnifies and doubles the anxiety and fear in a situation. So let it out instead. Talk to someone close to you about the situation at hand. Just venting to someone who will listen can help you to get a more grounded view on what’s happening. Or the two of you can discuss it and help you to reclaim your power by making a small, initial plan for how you can reduce the anxiety about this situation by taking some kind of action. 11. Stay in the present moment. Anxiety is often a fear of something you think will happen in future. One way to reduce that anxiety is to simply stay with your attention in the present moment as much as you can. Perhaps you make a small plan in advance to help you out but you choose to deal with the anxiety-creating situation when it happens. Instead of spending hours each day with imagining and fearing the future and creating monsters in your mind. The breathing technique at the start of this article is one of the best techniques I have found for returning to the present moment when you get lost in the future. Another one of my favorites you can try is this one: Take 1-2 minutes and focus only on what’s right in front of you. Or around you and on you. Look at what’s right in front of you. Listen to the sounds around you. Feel the fabric of your clothes. Feel the warmth of the winter sun on your skin. 12. Remember: There is a brand new day tomorrow. This reminder helps me when today or the last week may not have gone so well. Because there will be a brand new day tomorrow. A day when you can begin again. A day when you can take a new step to move towards what you want and likely have a bit more luck. And when it will be easier to see that this difficult time is only temporary and not permanent (even if it might feel that way right now).  

[creativedigestt]

Behind the Designs: Exploring the Artistry of Joel

Brief Introduction

We interviewed Joel Balat, a 20 year-old college student from Mapua Malayan Colleges Laguna, currently studying Multimedia arts specializing in graphic design. Joel is well-versed expert in the world of design, with over seven years of personal experience and over a year as a Student Assistant Graphic Designer for the Corporate Communications Office in MMCL.

Joel’s Key Experiences in the field

| Could you describe a particularly challenging project you've worked on during your college years? How did you approach it?

The most difficult project I've worked on was not really related to graphic design, but it was in the realm of multimedia arts. We created an animated film for our college project. Even though we completed the course, it almost devastated me. I never want to touch any animated films again. 

| Can you share a project that you're particularly proud of and explain why it's significant to you?

One of the best works I have done is a project I finished a couple of months before I enrolled in college. It is a motion graphic lyric video of a song by a vocaloid artist named “Miku”. This is a very important project for me because it is where I learned how to start with motion graphics and design. It was the pioneer, “the mother of all motion graphics that I’ve done until now”. 

I used Adobe After Effects and Blender 3D. It was challenging because I had to learn everything by myself, I did not rely on video tutorials. This project became very important to me because whenever I rewatch it, I get to compare my current work and see how much improvement I have gained over the years.

Joel’s Insights

| In your opinion, what sets apart great graphic design from mediocre or average work?

In my perspective as a designer, the factor that distinguishes exceptional graphic design from the ordinary is personalization. It's more than adhering to design principles; it's about creating visuals that reflect who I am. This idea emphasizes the power of adding a personal touch, elevating graphic design from merely looking good to a form of personal expression.

| As you've progressed in your journey, have you noticed any shifts in your design style or approach? How do you balance experimentation and staying true to your artistic identity?

Yes. Initially, my design style started in a very “weird” manner. I used to design in a way where if it looks good with my eyes, then it’s good. There was no consideration with readability and legibility. Then I started to learn more about designing for an e-sports organization. As I got more knowledgeable in the field I started to lean towards a more minimalist approach, which is my current design style.

As I got more experienced, I slowly found my secret recipe; Research, Production, and Feedback. I made sure that every element in my design had a meaning. How everything was put into place had a reason. In terms of feedback, I learned that instead of asking “Does this look good?” I asked “What’s wrong with my design?”.

When it comes to staying true to my identity, I have a tactic that I use, and that is knowing yourself. It’s really about maintaining your core identity as an individual and a designer.

Joel’s valuable lessons

| What advice would you give to fellow students who are considering pursuing graphic design and multimedia arts as a career path?

I personally recommend that you should discover and seek artists, designers, and directors who inspire you and use their work as a springboard for your own creativity and your portfolio. I encourage collaboration because it not only develops your skills but also provides valuable experience.

| Can you share a specific mistake or setback you encountered during your journey, and what you learned from it?

I have two mistakes that come to mind. Number one is not being able to trust my peers. I found myself doubting the skills and reliability of the people I work with. A second mistake is not being able to effectively communicate, especially with clients. There have been numerous times where a client would reach out to me, and I fail to put into words what I want to say.

| Reflecting on your college experience thus far, what are some key lessons you've learned about time management, creativity, or professional growth?

One crucial lesson I’ve learned is to practice and research continually. Secondly, manage your time efficiently by prioritizing routines and balancing professional and personal interests, while emphasizing effective communication and professionalism contributes to overall development.

In summary: Our final thoughts

Our interview with Joel proved to be one of the most valuable conversations we’ve had with a fellow creative. Within a matter of 30 minutes, not only did we learn about his background and experience, but also gained advice on how to traverse through our artistic paths. His expertise in the world of graphic design shined through the confidence that he gave with each of his answers. We are grateful to Joel for giving such helpful thoughts.

[hollyfishlockcind3510]

🎤 More interviews 🎤

Project development:

We conducted our second interview this week! We met at The House at Callaghan campus to talk to Sam Farey. Sam has been at the University of Newcastle since 2015 and has switched degrees multiple times. 

We started setting up at 9am, and Sam would arrive at 10am. Peter was able to pick up the equipment last night. 

We asked Sam multiple questions on how university life has changed, and how his HECs debt has affected his decisions. Some of the key questions are listed below:

Tell us about your journey towards uni. What made you decide to come along? Go back to 2015. Take us back to where it all began.

How has uni or university life changed over the years? 

Back when you started, what were you told about HECS debt? 

Talk me through the degrees/programs you’ve studied from 2015 onwards and how they’ve led to you studying your current program? 

Throughout your degree (and degree changes) was your HECS debt ever a consideration? 

From your experience, do you think that the current HECS system is a fair one? 

How much has indexation impacted your HECS debt? 

Are you more worried about it? Has your attitude changed? 

If you don’t mind us asking, where does your HECS debt currently sit at? (the reveal) would you mind logging in to mygov and checking it out? 

We had a short issue during our interview, as another student was trying to get our attention through the door. They were knocking, but thankfully the knocking isn’t audible in the recording. After we finished, we packed up and discussed Sam’s answers while I uploaded the footage to my hard drive. 

A short highlights video is linked below:

https://uoneduau-my.sharepoint.com/:v:/g/personal/c3399291_uon_edu_au/EVNPqXNws6RMl2-Jl7WOHW8B6A_kfpBvFTcTBY5E32SUDQ?e=rlryP8&nav=eyJyZWZlcnJhbEluZm8iOnsicmVmZXJyYWxBcHAiOiJTdHJlYW1XZWJBcHAiLCJyZWZlcnJhbFZpZXciOiJTaGFyZURpYWxvZyIsInJlZmVycmFsQXBwUGxhdGZvcm0iOiJXZWIiLCJyZWZlcnJhbE1vZGUiOiJ2aWV3In19

Personal responsibility:

During the interview, I was able to help set up the equipment. I learned how to properly frame an interview during previous classes, so I could bring that knowledge to the group for interviews. I also properly set up the SD cards. I then edited the short highlights video that is linked above. 

Communication and Problem Solving

We didn’t face that many issues this week. One of our group members, Zali, hasn’t contributed much in the last couple of weeks. However, this is because she has experienced some private issues recently, and we haven’t put pressure on her to get anything done.

Next week, we will organise a time to meet with Gemma.

Holly Fishlock c3398018

[seminars1]

Navigating the Marketing Seminar Series: Embracing Change, Building Networks, and Finding Career Success

Welcome back to my blog! As I continue to share my experiences from the Marketing Seminar series at George Brown College, I'm excited to delve into the impactful lessons I learned and the strategies I employed to build a strong network and discover invaluable resources for my career in the marketing industry. Join me as I reflect on the inspiring speakers, networking successes, and best practices that have shaped my career journey.

What I Learned - Insights from Inspiring Speakers

Throughout the Marketing Seminar series, I had the privilege of learning from esteemed career experts, including Melanie Evely, Aadhar Mehta, and Danielle Humilde. Each speaker brought a unique perspective that resonated deeply with me and transformed how I perceived my career options.

Melanie Evely's emphasis on embracing change within our current positions reminded me of my own transformative career shift. Her words encouraged me to step out of my comfort zone and explore new avenues, leading to personal growth and fulfillment.

Aadhar Mehta's innovative approach to job hunting, especially utilizing LinkedIn as a powerful networking tool, revolutionized my job search strategies. His insights on investigating job postings in-depth helped me tailor my applications effectively, showcasing my genuine interest in potential employers.

Danielle Humilde's perspective on defining success on individual terms encouraged me to reassess my own career goals and align them with my values. Her wisdom inspired me to focus not only on external achievements but also on continuous self-improvement and making a positive impact on others.

The Most Important Lesson and its Impact

The most important lesson I learned from the Marketing Seminar series is the power of aligning personal interests with professional development. Melanie Evely and Danielle Humilde both emphasized the significance of pursuing our passions alongside our careers. This insight resonated deeply with me as I witnessed how integrating my interest in Marketing into my professional journey led to unexpected opportunities and a unique edge in the job market. This lesson has influenced my career decisions and continues to motivate me to explore ways to nurture my passions in my professional life.

Networking Success: Building Relationships

During the Marketing Seminar series, I had the opportunity to network with professionals in the marketing industry. I connected with several speakers after their talks, exchanging insights and experiences. Additionally, I participated in industry events and activities, which provided me with valuable knowledge and contacts. Joining LinkedIn groups related to marketing allowed me to engage with professionals who share similar interests, building credibility and extending my network.

Volunteering also played a significant role in expanding my network. By giving back to the community, I established meaningful connections with like-minded individuals who shared a passion for making a positive impact.

Resources for Job Hunting

In my search for job opportunities, I explored various job-finding resources. Online platforms such as LinkedIn, Indeed, and industry-specific job boards proved to be valuable resources, offering a wide range of opportunities. However, I discovered that personal connections and networking played a crucial role in uncovering hidden job prospects and accessing insider information about companies.

Staying Connected for Future Opportunities

To maintain my network, I actively engage with connections on LinkedIn by sharing industry insights, congratulating milestones, and initiating meaningful conversations. By nurturing these relationships, I aim to position myself favorably for potential job opportunities in the future.

Co-op Success and Networking Impact

I had 4 interviews, but unfortunately, I was not approved for the next level. However, I have a couple of interviews next week, Furthermore, I could get a connection with the marketing manager of a start-up company he said that he is interested in my resume and gives my CV to the CEO. I keep in touch, and I have an interview with her in the ongoing week.

Networking Tips and Best Practices

Be Genuine: Approach networking with authenticity and a sincere interest in learning from others' experiences.

Follow Up: After networking events or conversations, follow up with a personalized thank-you message to solidify the connection.

Engage on Social Media: Utilize platforms like LinkedIn to engage with professionals, share insights, and expand your network.

Attend Industry Events: Participate in industry-related activities to gain knowledge, build connections, and stay updated on trends.

Volunteer: Engage in volunteer work to connect with like-minded individuals and demonstrate your commitment to making a positive impact.

Conclusion

The Marketing Seminar series at George Brown College has been an incredible journey of growth and discovery. Embracing change, nurturing personal interests, and building a strong network have been essential components of my career development. Inspired by esteemed speakers and equipped with invaluable networking tips, I am eager to embrace new challenges and pursue my passion for marketing with confidence.

As you embark on your own career journey, remember the power of networking and the importance of aligning your passions with your professional pursuits. May the insights and best practices shared here serve as a guiding light, empowering you to build meaningful connections and find success in the dynamic world of marketing.

[aifastic]

Interview With The Spy

Hello everyone! I gladly present you with my piece for INTRUDER ALERT!: A TF2 Spy Zine. We’re having leftover sales until DECEMBER 19th (12/19/22) at 12:00 PM PST, in case you’re interested in acquiring some items!

Link to the store here: https://tf2spyzine.bigcartel.com/

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed witing it! Thank you @tf2spyzine for the opportunity ♥

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: T Characters: RED Spy, OC’s, RED Team Summary: Lana Hopkins has been looking forward to this interview for ages. Devlin is just scared. The team is nowhere to be seen. And Spy is... Spy.

Interview With The Spy

"Aren't you nervous?" the photographer asked, anxiously looking to the sides and fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. "I mean, he's a murderer. They all are. Oh, dear." He looked like he might faint.

"That's the fun of it!" Lana Hopkins said, barely containing her excitement.

She'd been looking forward to this for ages–after years of wasting all her redaction skills on the horoscope, Hat Wearing Mann had finally given her the opportunity to shine with the interview of her life. At last, she'd be able to delve into the mind of one of the most elusive men in the country, maybe even the world!

Many had tried to learn more from the Teufort Nine, only to disappear after the attempt. But she'd make sure to prevail this time, and get the note that would make her career skyrocket. She would.

The Spy had been previously described as "a puzzle, wrapped in an enigma, shrouded in riddles, lovingly sprinkled with intrigue, express mailed to Mystery, Alaska," and she couldn't help but agree–there were no legal documents to prove the existence of that man. He was a rumor, a deadly one at that, and he made sure not to leave any traces behind, be it of his professional conquests or his romantic ones. His lovers had him in high esteem; his enemies feared him. And that was the extent of the knowledge she had earned from her research.

"Hey!" The photographer waved a hand in front of her eyes, awakening her from her thoughts. "Are you… okay?" He sounded worried, but more so for her mental stability than anything else.

"I'm fine, uh… Dolan." She waved him off.

"I'm Dylan," he said, exhausted. She mentally brushed it off. She didn't have time nor space in her mind to devote it to remembering useless information like the photographer's name.

"Anyways," she said, and promptly started to walk away from the rental car they'd used to get there, heading to the RED base. "Let's get moving!"

-----

The base, anticlimactically enough, seemed empty that day.

"Where are all the mercenaries? I thought we'd get to see them in action!"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, my dear," said a voice behind her. She gasped and turned back. The Spy was standing behind them, a cigarette in hand and a smug smirk on his face. When did he–?

"Holy fuck!" Donald yelled, almost dropping the camera.

"Careful!" Lana hissed, and turned to look at their host with what she hoped was her most selling smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir!"

"The pleasure is all mine, mademoiselle." Spy grasped her hand delicately and brought it to his lips.

"Where's…everyone?" asked Devin, a twinge of awkwardness in his voice.

Spy looked visibly annoyed for a moment, but he quickly put on a polite smile. "They are currently busy, running some errands." He waved their concern away with a gesture of his hand. "Now, may we head off to my smoking room?"

He led them through a couple rooms–Lana took the opportunity to read every label, examine every piece of furniture for hints of how these men lived.

"Excuse me," she asked, pointing to a closed door that read: 'TRAINING ROOM.' "What's that?"

"It's where we carry out our physical training for battle." A crash was heard inside.

"Wh–who's in there?"

"No one, monsieur, it's just…Some boxes might have fallen off. It happens often enough." Lana thought she heard him mutter: "...Supposed to be soundproof…" But before she could comment on that, he pointed at a door with a flourish. "We are here."

Lana entered the room, taking the room in. It was…Surprisingly bare. There was little furniture besides a fireplace, several framed paintings and double lamps hanging from the walls that gave a soft lighting to the place. There was a bookshelf filled to the top with books whose titles were in a language she assumed to be French; a coffee table with a wooden globe and a half-finished whisky glass on it; and next to it, a red armchair. The only two things that looked out of place, however, were the twin wooden chairs placed in front of the armchair.

"My apologies," said Spy, courteous as ever. "I do not own more armchairs than this one, so the kitchen chairs should suffice."

"It's totally fine, don't worry!" said Lana absently while she stared at a painting of a group of dogs arm-wrestling over a poker table.

"Oh, yes, that one is an authentic Kickasso," Spy said proudly. "No photographs, please, they might ruin the canvas."

The painting wasn't what caught her attention, however: there was a piece of paper attached to the frame with a metal pin with what looked like…a pink unicorn…drawn on it. Did Spy have kids? That could catch the attention of a particular demographic–which she might or not belong to.

"Ahem," Damian cleared his throat with purpose.

"Oh, yes! Let us start. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

-----

"So, first of all I can't believe I've got the pleasure to do this interview. Are you aware of how hard you are to find?"

Spy let out a chuckle. "Yes, and I hope it stays that way. My job requires me to be unreachable, in a way. Though by what means this is achieved, well…That, I can't reveal." He winked.

"Right, professional secret. Alright, um, what can you tell us about yourself that won't get you in trouble?"

"There's not much, really, but there are a few things–otherwise, this interview would be pointless." Lana's grip on her pen tightened. "I was born in France, and espionage has always been a part of my life, in a way. I pride myself in having mastered the art of disguise and the lethal ways of the knife–although other weapons have aided my job, too."

Lana felt frustrated, but decided to press more later on. "About that…What can you tell us about your job? Your current one, I mean. Reliable Excavation Demolition is shrouded in mystery, and there's much speculation about what the Gravel Wars entail."

"Well, it is a complicated matter. Let us say we stare death in the face every day, and the reward for it will never be enough. But there is a good opportunity to grow as a professional here. I believe in that, and that's what keeps me on my feet every day."

"I see."

She stopped jotting down just to think of her next question while Duncan took some photos of Spy. She needed to ask more about his fashion opinions, according to her job, but her curiosity was winning–it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Should she press on more personal details or–?

There was a loud crash outside, and a cluster of footsteps could be heard approaching the room. Spy suddenly stood up, dropping the whisky glass he was posing with on the coffee table. "Oh, no."

"What's happening?" Lana asked, standing up.

"I don't–"

The door slammed open against the wall, and a guy wearing a helmet led a group of seven very angry, red-clad men.

"TRAITOR!"

"Who–" Lana turned to look quizzically at Spy, only to find his chair empty. She looked around–Spy had disappeared in thin air!

"Typical," said a tall man wearing a crooked hat–is that the Sniper? "He puffed away."

"No way! Spy, if you're still there, you can't lock us up for no reason–Wait." The young guy stopped, blinking at Lana and Devon in surprise. "Who the hell are you?"

"We are reporters!" Lana said, ignoring her workmate's desperate hand signals. "We are here to interview Spy–"

"The Ma'am has a No Reporters policy, I'm afraid," a short guy with a heavy Texan accent replied. "I dunno how Spy managed to let you in."

'Ma'am'?

"Great. Our interviewee disappeared and now we're gonna get killed," Devon whined, and Lana elbowed him.

"Not necessarily. Hey, we aren't going to get y'all in trouble. We just need a couple tips about Spy…Maybe a little gossip?"

"Oh, boy, do we have gossip!" Everyone exchanged glances and grinned.

-----

"Come on, Spy, it's a little bit funny. You thought it was Dapper Cadaver."

"You told them I snore?!"

"It's true, though," Sniper said, hitting him on the head with his own rolled copy of the magazine–which Lana had sent them all in thanks.

"That's what you get for locking us up in the goddamn training room. Do you know how long Soldier made us train there?"

"We couldn't afford to waste time!"

"I will kill you all. But especially the one who thought giving them the spycrab photo was a good idea."

"That was me," Heavy said, casually cracking his neck.

"Never mind." Spy deflated against the couch like a fragile Victorian child.

-----

"The boss loved the interview, Dustin!"

"It's Dylan," he replied almost reflexively. "And I'm just glad to have come out alive, to be honest."

"Don't be such a party pooper!" Lana reproached him. "I'm happy that we could unveil a more human side of him."

"I guess me too," he said with a smile.

[iam93percentstardust]

Hey, I hope you're had a very pleasant birthday and birthday month! If the prompte are still open: Can you do Stony with Tony finally and sorta randomly confessing his love to Steve and Steve only then realizing that what he feels for Tony is romantic love as well?

Hello! Sure thing! Quick note: there’s a change between present and past tense for a flashback, for anyone who doesn’t like that kind of thing

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

~

“I love you,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t quite know what to do about that.

He won’t say that he’s thought about it before because he hasn’t. But he won’t say that he’s never thought about it either—because he has, occasionally, glanced at Tony’s ass outlined by his perfectly tailored pants and appreciated the sight, and he has, once or twice, wondered what Tony’s warm, sparkling eyes would look like when hazy with pleasure. But a quick, glancing thought that he immediately moves on from is not the same as being attracted enough to Tony to think about asking him out or anything past that.

And now that he’s faced with that question, he doesn’t know what to say. Is he supposed to thank Tony? Is he supposed to acknowledge his feelings and say that he doesn’t feel the same way? Is he just supposed to ignore what Tony said? This is why he has so much trouble with his dates—he never knows how to act in a way that isn’t awkward. No wonder Natasha recently declared him hopeless after he came back from his last date covered in her sticky drink because he accidentally called her a dame.

“I love you,” Tony says and Steve doesn’t know what to do about that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to do anything, because Tony nods immediately afterward, says, “Good talk,” and turns and walks away like he wasn’t expecting an answer—or at least, not one that he would like.

Steve doesn’t know what to do about that either.

~

“Do you think I’m in love with Tony?” he asks Natasha later that day when they’re relaxing on the couch while some mindless sitcom plays in the background.

Natasha blinks at him and then caps the nail polish she was using and puts it on the coffee table. “Do you think you’re in love with Tony?” she asks carefully.

He frowns at her. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I should just tell you what to think.”

He sighs and takes another sip from his Coke, only to realize that it’s empty. Yeah, that describes his life pretty well. “I’m gonna get another one,” he says, standing up. “Do you want something?”

She shakes her head. It’s not until he’s in the kitchen, grabbing another Coke from the fridge, before she asks, “What brought this on?”

Steve thinks about the vulnerable look on Tony’s face as he said those three words. He probably wouldn’t like it if Steve told Natasha what they’d discussed. Or, well, he’d probably act like it was fine but he’d secretly feel hurt and might put the workshop into blackout mode again. Steve hates it when the workshop is in blackout mode. He doesn’t like that he can’t get to Tony when he’s feeling so terrible that he has to shut himself away. He wants to be there to support him, and he hates it when he’s the one who makes Tony feel like he has to close off the workshop.

“Nothing,” he tells Natasha.

She gets up to come into the kitchen, where she eyes him for a moment and then declares, “Tony finally told you, didn’t he?”

How does she always know?

“How do you always know?”

She smiles enigmatically. “I always know,” she says in that mysterious tone.

Steve glares at her. “Tony told you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to admit that you two are friends.”

“Hmm,” she agrees. “But not today.” She hesitates, watching as Steve starts preparing a ham sandwich. “So Tony told you he loves you and you said?”

“Nothing,” Steve says with a shrug. “JARVIS, do you think it would be a good idea if I took this to Tony?”

“Sir has not expressed an explicit desire to keep you out of the workshop but I believe he would not appreciate you down there at the moment.”

Steve sighs. “Great. Could you send U up here to bring this sandwich down?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

With that taken care of, Steve turns back to Natasha, following her back out to the living room. “I didn’t say anything because Tony didn’t give me the chance. He just took off.”

Natasha is quiet, studying him for a long moment. He knows what she’s thinking, since it’s probably the same thing he thought: that Tony was too afraid to hear the answer to give Steve the chance to respond. Eventually, she asks, “So how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever thought about Tony like that before but—we act kinda coupley, don’t we?”

Before Natasha can respond, the previously bright sky outside goes dark. There’s a bright lightning bolt right outside the window, followed by the crash of thunder and then a loud rushing sound. It dissipates after a moment, the sky lightening again.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS says, “Thor has returned to the tower.”

~

The Steve and Tony story goes something like this: instead of going on his planned road trip, Steve returned to the tower the day after the Chitauri invasion to offer his apologies to Tony about what he said on the helicarrier. Somehow—and he’s not sure how, even to this day—he found himself getting wrapped up in the tower repairs with a room of his own on one of the lower floors. And by the time those were done, Tony had apparently also redone some of the apartments near the penthouse as a headquarters for the Avengers. Steve hadn’t been lacking for options after the battle (the Army, in particular, wanted him back) but he’d moved into the tower permanently instead.

He and Tony had clashed a few times in those early days but once Bruce came back from wrapping up his affairs in India and Natasha and Clint left SHIELD to join them, they settled into a bit of a truce.

And over the semi-regular movie nights and the training spars and the late-night conversations after they both couldn’t sleep, that truce became a friendship and before Steve quite realized it, Tony had become one of his best friends. Slowly, Steve found himself being pulled out of the shell he’d withdrawn into after waking in this new century. Tony dragged him to lunch at new and exciting places, places that Steve could never have even dreamed of when he was growing up. They planned missions and training days together. Steve had even gotten adept enough at handling the press with Tony to feel confident accepting interview requests with him.

He hadn’t realized though that Tony had taken it as something more serious though. And now that he does know, he’s not sure what to do about it.

~

He eventually goes to Bruce, since Pepper is busy dealing with a business merger and Colonel Rhodes is out of town in some undisclosed location (though Steve is certain that Tony knows where). Bruce’s lab isn’t quite the wonderland of light and holograms that Tony’s is, but it’s still impressive to someone who grew up with nothing. Tony makes sure that Bruce has all the latest equipment so the lab is a gleaming marvel of sleek instruments with silver and white colors everywhere. It doesn’t look like the most soothing environment but the speakers pipe out some sort of piano music that Steve vaguely recognizes and there’s a teapot on one counter, keeping whatever Bruce is drinking warm.

Bruce is currently examining something under a microscope. Steve can make out what looks like a purple smear on the slide from where he’s standing in the doorway, but that’s it. Bruce doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet, even though JARVIS announced him, so he waits patiently until Bruce has rolled away from the microscope.

“Bruce, you got a second?” he asks quietly.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Bruce asks, offering him a tired smile. He waves Steve over to the teapot and offers him a cup.

“Just a couple minutes ago. I didn’t mind waiting,” Steve assures him. “What’s the blend?”

“Lavender and chocolate.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a cup.” Bruce hands him the steaming mug. Steve has to add the sugar himself (only Tony knows how he prefers his tea).

“What brings you to my lab? Tony’s downstairs today,” Bruce says, fixing a cup of his own.

“I’m not looking for Tony. Not yet anyway,” Steve corrects. “I did want to talk about him though.” He hesitates and then decides to take the plunge. “Has Tony ever said anything to you about—ah—”

“About his feelings?” Bruce asks knowledgeably. “It’s come up a few times.”

Steve takes that to mean that it’s come up fairly frequently. Tony does like to overshare sometimes and trying to figure out what he’ll overshare about and what he’ll clam up about is about as accurate as trying to make one of Clint’s trick shots. “He told me today,” he begins carefully. “But he didn’t let me say anything.”

“Well, he wouldn’t,” Bruce says, like that’s perfectly reasonable and not absolutely surprising to Steve. He must see the confusion in Steve’s face because he adds, “He only just figured it out a few days ago himself, even though he’s been talking about you for months. I don’t think he was expecting you to feel the same way as him right after he realized it.”

“But why would he say it then?”

Bruce takes off his glasses, holding them in front of him as he thinks. “Tony—he’s got a weird relationship with love. He told me once that he thought he’d lost the chance to tell Pepper he loved her, first in Afghanistan and then with the palladium poisoning.”

“His parents,” Steve realizes. “He didn’t get to tell them either.”

“Exactly,” Bruce says, pointing at him with the glasses. “He doesn’t like to wait. So even though he knows you don’t feel the same way, he felt it was important to tell you.”

“What, in case I die tomorrow?”

“Or if he does.” Bruce must catch the stricken expression on Steve’s face as he smiles gently. “It’s not just about getting the feeling off his chest for Tony. It’s about making sure that you know you’re loved too.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly.

~

Normally, he would go down to the workshop to think about something that’s puzzling him but he doesn’t want to bother Tony right now. Instead, he goes to his second-favorite room in the entire tower: the library. The library was designed specifically by Tony for Steve after he mentioned how much he liked the tablet Tony had given him but how he missed paper books too. He hadn’t been angling for a library out of the conversation but Tony, generous to a fault, had immediately gotten to work on one.

It’s a beautiful room, completely incongruous with the sleek modern style of the rest of the tower, but perfect despite that. It takes up an entire two floors of the tower with balconies, a spiral staircase, and several sliding ladders for Clint to reenact a scene from some movie that Steve hasn’t gotten around to watching yet. Tony had done the room in dark wood with enough windows to make it feel light and airy instead of cramped. There are little nooks hidden among the shelves and a few window seats for anyone who wants to gaze out over the New York skyline while they read.

It’s perfect, made all the more so because Tony designed it for him.

“Steve, you should have realized how Tony felt sooner,” he mutters to himself as he settles on one of the cushy armchairs with his sketchbook. But how could he have? According to Bruce, Tony hadn’t even known how he felt until a few days ago.

He sketches as he thinks, no subject in mind until he looks down to find that he’s roughly sketched out Tony at his workbench, arguing with DUM-E over something silly. Steve smiles fondly down at the drawing, rubbing his thumb over the curve of Tony’s cheek. He remembers this argument. It had been a couple weeks ago. Tony had asked DUM-E to bring him a wrench and instead, DUM-E had brought him two screwdrivers, three hammers, and a level before finally bringing the wrench. It had made Steve laugh, which had just encouraged DUM-E. Tony had acted frustrated but he knows Tony well enough to know that Tony had been secretly proud about DUM-E’s personality, both for DUM-E and for himself. After all, as Tony said, any monkey could design an AI. It took skill to design one with character.

In his sketch, he’s drawn something of that conflict in Tony’s face—the frustration in the downward turn of his mouth but the pride in the twinkle in his eyes—and it only makes him more beautiful.

“Beautiful,” Steve repeats, awed at the thought. Tony is beautiful, when he’s tinkering, when he’s flying, even when he’s going toe-to-toe with Steve over something stupid (usually Tony’s self-sacrificial tendencies).

He flips through the book, taking in each drawing: Natasha, Tony, Clint, Thor, Tony, Bruce, Tony, Tony, Tony. “Yeah,” he murmurs, looking back down at the drawing he just finished again. He thinks he’s got it figured out.

He stands, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. “JARVIS, do you think Tony would mind talking to me now? I’ve got something important to tell him.”

JARVIS is quiet for a moment, then says, “Sir would be happy to see you.”

He makes his way downstairs, thinking about what he’s going to say, but as soon as he sees Tony—wonderful, beautiful, perfect Tony—playing with one of those incredible holograms he designed, the words fly from his mind and he blurts out, “I’m not in love with you.”

And then he winces. Yeah, okay, so he’s a bit of a disaster.

Tony looks hurt for a moment, but it’s quickly covered up with dramatic offense. Before Tony can make one of his infamous quips that’ll just make light of the situation, Steve crosses the workshop and pulls Tony’s hands into his, rubbing them gently with his thumbs.

“I’m not in love with you,” he repeats. “But I think I could be soon. I’m not where you’re at yet—my brain isn’t nearly as quick as yours, Tony, of course you’re a step ahead of me here too. But Tony, you’re on almost every single page of my sketchbook. We go on what we might as well call dates together. We talk for hours. I know you almost as well as I know myself. I’m not in love with you yet but I think I’m only a couple dates away from it, so you should take me out, and we’ll see how fast I can catch up.”

Tony is smiling by the end of his little speech. “How are you always so good at that?” he asks.

“I was born like this,” Steve says seriously, only to crack a grin when Tony laughs.

“No you weren’t,” Tony argues. “You were born small and spiteful.”

“And full of good speeches. But no one wanted to listen to a little guy like me so I had to bottle them up to use on you.” He pauses and looks down at Tony. “Um, not to pressure you, but does a date sound good?”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. “Depends. Where are you going to take me?”

“Oh, am I taking you? You’re the billionaire, shouldn’t you be treating me?”

Tony’s eyes darken as he purrs, “Only if you’re very nice.”

Steve shivers. He hadn’t really thought about how it would feel to have the full Tony Stark Seduction TechniqueTM turned on him, but he’s thinking about it now and it is absolutely delightful. “What if I’m not nice at all?” he whispers, hands tightening on Tony’s.

Tony’s smile turns downright filthy and he leans up to brush a kiss over Steve’s cheek. “Hmm, I’ll think of something,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear.

He’s not going to act like a caveman and take Tony to bed. He’s not. He’s going to—“Sal’s!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Tony takes a step away, brow wrinkling confusedly. It’s really cute. Steve wants to kiss it away.

“What?”

“Sal’s,” Steve says again. “Best burgers in Brooklyn. I want to take you there.”

Tony smiles again. “Sounds like a date.”

[cloverthirteen]

Was Ace Attorney made as a satire on Japan’s legal system? -- An analysis

I wouldn’t really call myself an Ace Attorney fan--I’ve never played any of the games, the closest I’ve come being watching other people’s let’s plays. I do like reading about the series on wikis and interacting with fan content for it, though, so I do know a fair amount about it.

One thing I see being said pretty often by fans is that the series was intended as a satire/parody of the Japanese legal system, which is why the courts are ridiculously biased towards the prosecution, prosecutors often care more about perfect win records more than putting actual guilty people behind bars, etc. If you’re familiar with this, you’ve probably heard of Japan’s 99% conviction rate. This interpretation of the games and the way they work definitely makes sense.

But after hearing this many times I eventually noticed something. There isn’t a single actual source (creator statement, interview, etc.) that backs up this claim. Every time I see someone online say “the series creator made Ace Attorney to parody Japan’s actual legal system” there is never a link to an interview or anything that proves their statement correct. If someone has an actual, verified source from Shu Takumi or someone else who had significant involvement with the series, please prove me wrong and show it to me. But according to all of the creator’s statement’s I’ve read, there’s no evidence of the series being an intentional parody.

So, what do we know about the creation of the Ace Attorney series? Well, it was created by Shu Takumi, who wrote and directed the first three games. After working on the dinosaur survival horror game Dino Crisis for Capcom, he was given the opportunity to make any kind of game he wanted. He really wanted to make mystery and adventure games, and from that came Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney.

MC: Before developing Ace Attorney you worked on Dino Crisis. How does one go from dinosaur survival horror to virtual courtrooms?

ST: Dino Crisis was the brainchild of my then boss, Resident Evil creator, Shinji Mikami. Working on his projects taught me not only how to make games, but also how to think about them. After Dino Crisis 2 wrapped, Mr Mikami gave me six months in which to create any kind of game I wanted.

I was still pretty wet behind the ears, but as I'd originally joined Capcom with a desire to create mystery and adventure games, this was a huge chance for me to make my mark as a creator. In the end it took a team of seven 10 months to produce the first GBA Ace Attorney title. Having the freedom to create exactly the kind of game I wanted was amazing and it was a real pleasure to work on that project.

MC: Can you remember when the idea of Ace Attorney first came to you? How did your bosses respond to the idea of a lawyer-based adventure game when you first described it to them?

ST: It was in 2000 when Mr Mikami said I could make my own game and my original idea was a fairly typical adventure with a detective as the main character. Most mystery adventures have the player choose from a number of different dialogue options for their character in order to progress the story, but I wanted a new gameplay style that enabled players to deduce for themselves what was happening, rather than just selecting canned responses. I developed this into the concept of facing off against the suspect in a crime and exposing the contradictions in their statements.

I was sure my new idea would be a fun and original take on the genre, so I started to revise the main character, since a detective would be too traditional for such an original concept. I asked myself, "What kind of professional would face off against a suspect and expose their contradictory statements?" The answer, of course, was a lawyer and so the Ace Attorney concept was born.

(source, from an interview on the making of the series)

Takumi’s original concept for the game involved Phoenix as not a defense lawyer, but as a detective. The gameplay was to consist of “facing off against the suspect of a crime and finding the contradictions in their statements.” However, Takumi eventually realized that taking apart contradictions wasn’t really a detective’s job, and decided to change the protagonist to a lawyer and the setting to a courtroom instead. And thus, the game’s concept was finalized.

Janet: As you know, “Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney Trilogy” is coming out world-wide this winter, and as I was brainstorming what to write about for this week’s blog, I remembered your tweets from 2010.

Takumi: Tweets from 2010?

Janet: …Well, it was a long time ago…

Takumi: ???

Janet: I-It’s OK if you don’t remember…

Takumi: …Oh, THOSE! Yes!

Janet: I remember reading them and being shocked by how different the original draft of the game’s story was – how Phoenix wasn’t even a lawyer, but a private eye!

Takumi: Yes, AA was originally supposed to be a detective game, so naturally, Phoenix was to be a private eye. But then, one day, I made a startling realization: the gameplay concept I was going for was for players to enjoy finding and taking contradictions apart, but that was hardly related to investigating or detective work at all. In that moment, I had it – I realized that the main setting for the game should be the courtroom.

Janet: That’s quite the jump, but you know, I can’t imagine this series being anything else at this point. 

(source, from an interview by Janet Hsu about the game’s early development)

During the development for the game, Takumi actually knew very little about the intricacies of the legal system--and in fact, he’s been very transparent about that fact in interviews. There’s even a story he talks about in a blog post where he was asked “shouldn’t we do some research on law before we make this game?” and agonized over it for a bit before deciding that being accurate about courtroom processes wasn’t important--what was important was that the game made the trials exciting and fun.

November, 2000. The characters were coming together, and I was working desperately on my first scenario (the current Turnabout Sisters). One day, I was asked about the one thing I didn’t want to be asked about.

“Mr. Takumi. Don’t we need to do some research on law?”

The knowledge I have about the law, pretty amounts to the one fact that in Japan we have the Roppō Zensho ('Complete Book of The Six Major Legal Codes').

“Don’t bother with that. This is a detective game. “

It should have been over with this one line, but…

“But this isn’t a detective game, it’s a lawyer game!”

“If it’s not going to be realistic, I don’t see why this should be about trials.”

“People who play this might get wrong knowledge from the game!”

“We might get sued by the Bar Association!”

“They’ll start complaining!”

…Gyakuten Saiban (Ace Attorney GBA) is simply a “mystery game.”　“Being realistic” is not what is important. What’s important is emphasizing, and recreating the unique “atmosphere” and “tension” of the courtroom. That is why the judge uses a gavel, even though no judge uses that, and why Naruhodō shouts "Objection!" even though nobody does that either.　This game does not need a “realistic courtroom”!

Chasing the true murderer down to the end, and then getting applauded for that in the courtroom. That feeling of thrill and excitement. It was only by February of the following year when we finally manage to recreate that in the game. The couple of months after this had happened, we looked around, got lost and troubled our minds in search for the answer of the big question of “How do we make a trial into a game?”.  Fall was passing by, and the cold winter was close upon us.

(source, from an archived blog post by Takumi)

So, realism and knowledge of law wasn’t important to Takumi during the development of the series. But there’s also the fact that Takumi has actually personally denied that the Ace Attorney series was an intentional satire or criticism of the court system at any point. In fact, according to a blog post (done as if Phoenix and Maya were reading the column and commenting on it), he actually dislikes people seeing his work this way, as he never intended the games to have any big political statements.

A major prerequisite for Gyakuten Saiban is it’s so simple “even my mother could play it”.  So there is only one point at the core of the game: “Seeing through lies”.

Naruhodō: It wasn’t even supposed to be a game about the trials at first. Mayoi: Eh! Really?! Naruhodō: “Simple” is basically all this game is about, according to TakuShū. Mayoi: What do you mean? Naruhodō: He didn’t want to add all kinds of elements for the player to think about, like alibis, tricks or about the culprit. It’d just confuse them. Mayoi: Really. Naruhodō: Basically, you can proceed in the game if you just think about where the contradiction is. He figured that with that, the controls of the game could also stay simple. Mayoi: But, but, why the trials then? Naruhodō: “A story about a detective seeing through lies” wouldn’t be any different from the other games out there. So that’s why he decided to have someone whose job is seeing through lies as the protagonist. Mayoi: So a defense attorney. Naruhodō: Occasionally  TakuShū sees magazines introducing the game as “a work that dared to take on the theme of trials”, and that actually hurts him. Mayoi: He never meant to be something as big as that…. 

(source, from the mentioned blog post)

Ultimately I see how easy it is, if you know a good amount about both Ace Attorney and Japan’s legal system, to come to the conclusion that the games were made as a dig against the latter. However, somewhere along the line, people apparently stopped seeing this as merely a theory and instead as a definite fact. Now, that doesn’t mean that the theory is entirely unfounded--given that Takumi focused only on making trials interesting and fun in the games, you could say that the games work as an light, comedic parody, not meant to make any political statements. And hey, maybe there’s something I missed--maybe there were other people working on the series who did have significant knowledge of law and wrote some parts of the games as intentional satire of the system. Again, if anyone has evidence of this, don’t hesitate to provide it. But with what I know, I don’t think going “well actually” to people who point out the ridiculousness and unfairness of Ace Attorney’s court system is necessary. It’s simply that way to make the games more fun.

[floridensis]

this is likely a very heavy question, but asking as someone who is seeking to get into a naturalist/conservation/restoration career and has been traumatized by schooling and is thus putting college off until it seems less like an insurmountable nightmare- what are your thoughts on (waves hand) being self sufficient as a naturalist without a college degree?

im right there with you. im currently struggling so much im not really managing jobs either. and every time i go hypomanic and believe i can do anything i put my mind to and apply for jobs i never make it past the interview for better or worse (last job i applied for the just cancelled on everyone 🤷‍♀️)

i hope its possible anon, im sure it is. but i dont really have much advice to give you and i would love that advice myself

one thing i can tell you is networking is actually pretty easy in my experience. taking master naturalist classes, joining the native plant society, going to events like bioblitzes and native plant sales hosted at parks, and literally just being active on inaturalist has connected me to a lot of people with relevant expertise and careers and stuff. business networking events look awful but ive had decent results with "look at this cool bug/plant"

for example, i could probably send an email to someone important right now asking for some volunteer opportunities doing nature walks to build experience and information on how to get a career in parks and he would be happy to help (he coteaches some master naturalist classes and has taken a liking to me because of my passion and knowledge) but it would be very embarrassing for me to do that and then break down in a couple months. i could message a friend to request his friend who i met before to put in a good word for me and help me get a job in parks easier because i hear apparently knowing people inside helps a lot especially when you dont have a degree to show because people can still vouch for you

but ultimately, im still very much on the outside. ive barely used connections because im running on a treadmill thats going too fast. at least i have them when im ready. and if i never manage to get that damn degree its good to have real people whos word matters vouch for you when a paper cant

....thats all ive got. if anyone else has better advice, PLEASE share for anon and my sake

[journalxxx]

By Hook or by Crook (5)

“What do you make of all this?” Toshinori asked, when they were finally alone. They’d momentarily parked the kid in the hallway with a cup of tea while the hero had followed Tsukauchi in his office as he took care of the last bureaucratic dregs of the questioning.

“As I see it, there are two major possibilities we ought to consider.” Tsukauchi said without taking his eyes off the monitor of his computer. “The first is that Midoriya’s quirk is just a mutation, and he is in no way related to All For One. His father is likely a government official whose position grants him knowledge of enough confidential files to make him fear negative repercussions in case his son’s quirk was publicly known, and has therefore enforced silence on the matter. We aren’t looking at any outstanding crimes here, although this man isn’t going to win any Parent of the Year awards any time soon.”

Toshinori grimaced. Wouldn’t that be nice? “And what are the odds of this being our case?”

“I wouldn’t bet my next paycheck on it, for sure.” Tsukauchi typed something on the keyboard, and checked his phone at the same time, before sighing and leaning back in his chair. “The other possibility is that Midoriya is indeed related to All For One, maybe even his son. He’s been fostered to a trusted associate of his and kept in the dark about everything.”

That option could be more statistically or genetically likely, but it still didn’t sit right with Toshinori. “That doesn’t sound like something All For One would do though. Why not raise him as a successor, or even just an underling? Surely another All For One wielder would have made for an important asset to his schemes.”

“You forget that Midoriya’s quirk manifested only two years ago. It is possible that All For One may have planned to do so, but lost interest when the child was deemed quirkless.” Tsukauchi scratched his head pensively. “As for why he didn’t keep the kid close since his birth… we can only assume it was out of caution. Fourteen years ago you had already put a significant dent in All For One’s syndicate and influence. Maybe he was already taking precautions against his own downfall, and didn’t want his potential successor to be involved in case things took a turn for the worse too quickly.”

“... I guess that makes sense.” Toshinori nodded. As per habit, he sent a quiet thanks to his lucky star for accidentally baring his secret to a damnably honest and capable member of the force such as Tsukauchi, God knew Toshinori himself wasn’t exactly cut out for fine deductive work. “In this case, the boy’s father…”

“...Is a former subordinate of All For One’s currently employed by the government, yes. Not a pleasant scenario to work with.” Tsukauchi waited for the printer to regurgitate a disproportionate stack of documents that made Toshinori instinctively recoil. The detective flipped through the paperwork quickly before sprinkling his signature on just about every odd sheet. “Regardless of which of the two hypotheses is true, I definitely want to look into this Hisashi Midoriya. He is by far the most suspicious aspect of the boy’s account.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t visit his family for a decade and a half, he doesn’t talk about his job, he doesn’t follow basic legal procedures, and you can tell he had more of an active role in encouraging Midoriya to hide the quirk than the kid lets on... It doesn’t exactly paint a reassuring picture.” Toshinori sighed. “This isn’t going to be easy for the boy…”

“It never is, when a family member is involved in criminal activities. But the fact that their relationship seems rather distant may make things a little less traumatic for him.” Tsukauchi checked his watch as he tidied up some stationery and turned off his computer. “Well, I guess I’m not too unforgivably late for my other meeting since we don’t have to question Mrs. Midoriya.”

“...Sorry about that. And for springing this on you all of a sudden.” Toshinori said with an apologetic grimace and his utmost sincerity. “You’re a saint.”

Tsukauchi’s small smile implied that he was well aware of the fact. “I’ll drive Midoriya home while I’m on my way to the city hall. Do you need a lift? Or do you want me to let you on the rooftop for a smoke?” That bit of code speak would never not be tragically ironic, Toshinori thought.

“No, I’ve already finished my shift for the day.” All three, scant, scattered hours of it. Japan’s finest, most dependable hero, ladies and gentlemen.

“Then thank you for your hard work.” His friend gave him a quick look and a brief, firm squeeze to his shoulder before heading to the door. No pity, no unrequested sympathy, no disingenuous praise, just straightforward respect and understanding. He really was one of a kind.

Midoriya was exactly where they’d left him, busy fiddling with his phone. He perked up when he saw them return. “Uh, my mother just texted me back. She says she’ll be home in about an hour. If you still want to talk to her.”

Tsukauchi hesitated. “It’s a little too late for me, I’m afraid. I’m expected somewhere else, but…”

“I can wait.“ Toshinori immediately volunteered. “It won’t be as thorough or official as if you interviewed her yourself, but if it can lighten your workload just a little…”

“...Well, I don’t see why not. Hop in the car with us then.”

The return trip was silent. Toshinori glanced at Midoriya a couple of times from the rearview mirror, and he always caught him in an ill-concealed state of unrest. Fidgeting with his phone, picking at the seatbelt, gazing nervously out of both car windows. Toshinori didn’t like that. Why all that agitation, now that the worst of the ordeal was supposedly over?

The boy eventually locked eyes with him. “...Oh. Uhm.”

“Something on your mind?” Toshinori asked.

“Uh, well, I was wondering…” His gaze dropped to his knees. “Are you going to tell my mother about my quirk?”

“I’m afraid so. She is bound to find out anyway, eventually. The police will issue an update on your quirk registration, as per the norm in such cases.”

“...Ah.” Oh boy, now he looked like a kicked puppy. That was just depressing.

“I don’t necessarily have to be the one to break the news to her though. If it makes you feel any better, you can tell her about the incident in your own words.” Toshinori offered, hoping to soften the blow.

“I… I think I would prefer that. Thank you.” The boy quietly acquiesced.

Tsukauchi shot Toshinori a pointed look. All right, maybe that wasn’t the most proper way to go about it, maybe standard procedure demanded the officer in charge to keep mother and son separate during the questioning and explain things personally in the most objective possible terms. But Toshinori wasn’t an officer, he was a washed-up alter-ego of the Symbol of Peace acting in semi-official consulting capacity, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to make things a little less humiliating for the forlorn child in the back. He condensed that whole argument into a meaningful glance of his own, that Tsukauchi couldn’t hold for more than two seconds lest he drove them all straight into the back of a truck. Toshinori took that as unspoken permission to proceed as he saw fit.

“I’ll be leaving this in your capable hands then.” Tsukauchi said as the two stepped out of the car. The man had a veritable talent for conveying irony while maintaining the straightest of faces and the driest of tones.

“Your trust is deeply appreciated. Drive safely!” Toshinori shut the door of the car decisively and waved him off with a dazzling smile.

“Uhm. Okay.” Midoriya said, his eyes darting between the hero and the speeding car with obvious perplexity. “Mom won’t be here for at least another forty minutes. I can fetch that photo you wanted in the meantime. I think I know where it is… probably...”

“I’ll take you up on that, thank you.” Toshinori followed him across the parking lot and up the stairs of the apartment complex. The boy’s eagerness to please was a sight for sore eyes in this cold, self-serving world. “You really did something commendable today, you know? Not many people would be so ready to relieve the pain of those who hurt them. That villain owes you more than he’ll ever know.”

“Oh…” The boy fiddled with his keys as a light redness tinged his cheeks. “It’s nothing, really. It isn’t my place to judge anyone... let alone steal from them. I just hope he’ll get better soon.”

“I’ll keep you up to date on his condition, if you want.”

“Oh, you don’t need to! It’s fine!” Midoriya’s instinctual politeness clashed against Toshinori’s no-nonsense availability. It was a fierce battle, but one didn’t become the number one hero without developing a certain skill in staring people into reasonableness. Midoriya surrendered with a small smile. “...I-It would put my mind at ease though.”

“Then I shall.” Toshinori claimed with finality. “Honestly, I wish I could have done more today for you and Tsukauchi. You two took care of all the heavy lifting and data collecting while I just stood around doing nothing the whole time.”

“You did, didn't you…?” Toshinori’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well, he hadn’t been expecting that candid a confirmation of his uselessness. Midoriya flinched and started flailing about in obvious distress as soon as he realized he’d voiced that thought aloud. “N-No! I mean- I don’t mean that you were- What I’m saying is that you didn’t really need to come. But you did anyway! F-For my sake, I get that. Because you promised you’d help me out, even if you surely have better things to do with your time, and… I truly appreciate it. Really.”

Toshinori laughed softly. Yes, ‘truly appreciative’ was indeed the boy’s default mood whenever he was graced with the barest amount of consideration, as far as the hero had witnessed in their short acquaintance. He didn’t think it was some sort of hero-worship-related response either, the kid just seemed that sensitive to it. “Don’t worry about it. It’s part of the job.”

“Is it?” Midoriya finally opened the door and they stepped inside. He let out a small chuckle of his own as they removed their shoes. “I guess I have new insight to add to the online speculation about All Might’s decreasing workload. I guess it is to be expected if yo- if he’s taken  to follow up on all his cases so thoroughly.”

Toshinori had to fight back a traitorous cough. “W-well, there is really no need for me to overexert myself nowadays as I used to do in the past.“ He started, automatically supplying his PR-certified response to any inquiry on the topic. Goodness, people really did notice, didn’t they? It was hardly a new concern, but still… “The crime rate has been decreasing steadily, and the industry is so saturated with heroes that there’s someone ready to intervene almost at any place and at any given time. And those heroes could use the money and exposure way more than me…” Toshinori trailed off as they made their way to the living room. The boy was regarding him with unnerving attention, as if memorizing his speech word for word. “There are other reasons too, of course…”

Midoriya cocked his head to the side curiously, expecting further elaboration. Then it clicked, and he fleetingly glanced at the hero from head to toe with open contrition. “O-Oh! Of course! Your… Sorry, I forgot.”

That simple sentence confused Toshinori so much that he couldn’t help but gape back. The silence grew very awkward very quickly. “...Uhm. So, that photo of yours?”

“R-Right! I’ll go look for it! Make yourself comfortable! Be right back!” The boy bolted fast enough to leave metaphorical dust clouds behind him.

Toshinori wandered to the nearest chair with small steps. He forgot. That was quite the feat, while literally standing in front of the sad, wrecked husk that Toshinori had become. Or maybe the kid hadn’t realized that his appearance was a relatively recent development. That seemed more likely. Perhaps he had interpreted his vague answer about his quirk to mean that the number one hero had always been just that, a sickly, overachieving twig in a bodysuit keeping his own skeleton in the closet for nearly forty years.

Toshinori let out a sigh. Quite the uplifting impression he was leaving with this young one.

His circling thoughts were interrupted by a yelp, and the thundering noise of some heavy objects crashing just outside the living room.

“Midoriya?” Toshinori called, jumping to his feet. The second unanswered call had him by the source of the noise in a moment.

“I’m here! I’m fine!” Midoriya’s voice finally answered, from behind a half-closed door conspicuously marked as ‘Izuku’ by a familiar blond-banged nameplate. 

“What was that?”

“Just… some stuff that fell down...” Toshinori approached it and peeked inside. Even from his limited perspective, he could see the boy sitting on the floor and rubbing his forehead, next to a tipped-over chair.

“And did that stuff happen to include you?” Toshinori deadpanned, inviting himself in... and pausing on the threshold. Taking in the interior of the boy’s bedroom. Which wasn’t the priority right now. He willed himself to ignore the star-spangled elephant in the room assaulting his senses and knelt down beside Midoriya, gently peeling his hand away from the sore spot. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, it’s just a bump.” 

“You should put some ice on it.” There were no cuts or outer signs or damage, which was a good start. Toshinori’s eyes fell on the bottom half of the toppled piece of furniture beside them. “...Did you seriously try to climb on a rolling chair?”

“I do that all the time. It’s steadier than it looks!” There was no appropriate reply to such a claim, but Toshinori’s judgemental glare was enough to make the boy squirm. “I’m fine, really-”

“Ice.” He pointed sternly at the corridor. Maybe there was still a minimal chance of preventing an oversized lump on Midoriya’s forehead from outing to Tsukauchi and other responsible adults the fact the boy had nearly cracked his skull within five minutes of being left in Toshinori’s charge.

“All right. Just a second.” Toshinori kept an eye on the kid, making sure he wasn’t struggling to keep his balance, as he made his way out of the room. Room that Toshinori was now free to observe in all its embarrassing magnificence.

A soft All Might carpet. All Might-themed bedding. Walls plastered with All Might posters. All Might-patterned curtains. Shelves and shelves and shelves of All Might action figures and books. 

It was always… humbling to be reminded of how much passion and care people from so many different walks of life could put in something as trivial as collecting hero merchandise - his hero merchandise, more often than not. Popularity and revenue were Toshinori’s very last priorities when it came to his job, but, despite merchandising being exactly about those, he wasn’t opposed to the practice in principle. It did help cement the reassuring image of the Symbol of Peace in the collective mind, which was definitely one of his lifetime goals. It brought a sizable influx of wealth to the agency’s treasury, which he largely redirected to charity and assorted emergency relief funds. It did seem to spark genuine joy and entertainment in both children and adults. And, when none of these arguments were enough to wash away the vague sense of guilt that came with profiting off the love and admiration of Japan’s fine citizens, Toshinori reminded himself that there were much worse, self-destructive indulgences people could waste their savings on. Alcohol. Tobacco. Drugs. Troll 2 DVDs. The like.

Midoriya reappeared nursing an ice pack against his temple. “Sorry about that. The photo should be in one of those boxes.” He gestured towards the wardrobe that sported a brown cardboard box on the top, and then towards the floor, where its twin lay sideways after a presumably rough landing. They cut through the tape of the latter and, after Midoriya emphatically assured him that he didn’t mind him browsing through his personal belongings in the slightest, Toshinori joined the kid on the carpet in their quest for the photographic Holy Grail. 

“I probably slipped it inside one of these…” The boy said, pulling out small piles of notebooks and publications. Toshinori confined his perusal to dated magazines, comics and books that didn’t seem likely to invade Midoriya’s privacy. The first box yielded no result.

“Maybe it’s in that one. Let me get another chair- oh.” Toshinori only needed to raise his arms and strain slightly on his toes to comfortably reach the top of the wardrobe and retrieve the second- crap, that was heavy. How the kid planned to pull it down himself while standing on wheels was beyond him. “Thank you.”

Toshinori was sitting cross-legged and flipping through an old gossip magazine lavishing pages and pages of speculation on the meager information they had managed to scrape together on his association with Dave - ah, those were the days… - when Midoriya finally let out a triumphant Aha!

“Found it!” He regarded his prize with joy, but his expression quickly morphed into concentration and then confusion. Toshinori held out his hand expectantly, and the boy deposited the photo into it while indicating a specific spot. “It’s, uh… my father’s this one.”

Toshinori looked at the man in question.

And froze.

“He doesn’t…” He heard the boy say distantly, as if from kilometres away. “He looks… a bit different from the picture in the police file…”

Toshinori coughed. He was different, all right. Subtly, cunningly so. Both men had short, snow-white hair, both had relatively plain features and pale complexion, both had faintly-colored eyes that could pass as blue under the right light. They were similar enough that they could be mistaken for one another, when described verbally. But the man in Tsukauchi’s file was a stranger to Toshinori. The man in this photo wasn’t.

“This-” The hero managed, between small bursts of coughs that he couldn’t restrain. “This is the man that- told you to keep quiet about your quirk-”

“Y-Yes.” Midoriya was gawking at him with obvious concern, and it only got worse when the hero’s words sank in. “I-I mean, he didn’t- he just- we sort of agreed that-”

“And the-” Toshinori covered his mouth with his hand, already tasting iron on his tongue as he patted his trousers to find some tissues. “The last time you spoke to him was…?”

“A little less than a month ago.”

Something inside Toshinori just gave up on trying to hold it together. He erupted into a brutal fit, vicious enough to shake his whole body and squeeze his eyes shut. He heard the boy asking something in alarm, and he felt warm blood trickling down his chin before he finally got ahold of a handkerchief to press against his lips. He hacked and spluttered for an interminable minute, his throat and chest tight and sore from the effort. Eventually it died down, and he found himself hunched over and bracing himself against the floor, wheezing and struggling for breath as something shuffled beside him. He turned to check on the noise, and saw Midoriya tapping on his phone.

“Don’t.” Toshinori rasped, swallowing down the remaining blood coating his mouth and reaching out to gesture at him dismissively with his clean hand. “I’m fine.”

“N-no, you aren’t.” The kid looked on the verge of fainting himself. Toshinori followed his horrified gaze, only to notice he’d sprayed plenty of little crimson stains on both the photo and the carpet, not to mention his own clothes. Damn, that was a mess even by his standards. “B-But- it’s okay, I’ll call an-”

Toshinori unceremoniously plucked the phone from Midoriya’s grasp, made sure that he hadn’t dialed any number, and tossed it on his bed. No need to make the situation even more headache-inducing than it already was. “I mean it. It happens. Don’t worry.”

Toshinori cleared his throat as he contemplated the ruined piece of evidence anew. At least he hadn’t marred the spot containing ‘Hisashi Midoriya’. Despite the less than optimal angle, there could really be no doubt. There was no mistaking that face for anyone else’s, it had been seared in Toshinori’s mind by more than three decades of pain and regret.

...Shit.

Shit.

Toshinori collected the picture from the floor and stood up to drop it on the kid’s desk, where it sat innocently surrounded by dozens of pieces of licensed All Might memorabilia.

“...So this is your father, and he’s alive and well.” He stated it aloud and with scorn, because he felt it was important for the universe to hear that its sense of humor didn’t fly with everyone.

“Ehr. Yes. Do you-”

“All right. Okay. Fine.” Toshinori turned on his heels and headed for the door. “Excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”

“...To your doctor?” Midoriya asked apprehensively, visibly starting to doubt the hero’s mental as well as physical well-being.

“No.” He almost stamped a huge, bloody handprint on his slacks before remembering that he still looked like he’d just slaughtered a pig and devoured it raw. “Can I use the bathroom?”

“Second door on the left.” The boy muttered, too stunned by now to object to any of Toshinori’s tangents.

Toshinori washed his face, neck and hands, and rinsed his mouth. He decided he couldn’t bother to do anything about the state of his clothes. He took care of scrubbing the sink too once he was done, making sure he didn’t accidentally leave any red smears on it. He dried his hands and fetched his phone.

“Tsukauchi? Sorry, can you make it back to Midoriya’s house? Yes, as soon as you can. ...No, but we found that photo. You need to see it, it’s… it’s him.”

He closed the call and stared at his reflection on the mirror. His brain didn’t produce a single coherent thought. He walked back to the kid’s room.

Midoriya was peering at the picture intently, even though he hadn’t moved it from where Toshinori had left it. The man’s eyes fell on the scattered blots on the carpet. In his experience, there wasn’t much hope of removing them completely, but it seemed rude not to try, at least. “Got any cleaning supplies?”

Midoriya blinked at him owlishly. “In the bathroom. Under the sink.”

One short trip later, Toshinori was back with paper towels and rubbing alcohol. He waved the boy off when he made to kneel down beside him to help. He handed him the ice pack that lay forgotten on the floor, and the kid pressed it back on his forehead mechanically as he sat on his bed. Toshinori could benefit from only a couple of minutes of silence before Midoriya spoke.

“You know him.”

“...Yes.”

“You’re upset.” 

Toshinori wondered if it showed on his face, or if it was just an educated guess based on the half-baked spontaneous hemorrhage he’d just displayed. He didn’t reply, his attention ostensibly focused on dabbing lightly at each smudge.

“Why…” The boy’s voice faltered. “W-Why is there a photo of another man in the police records?”

Toshinori couldn’t hold back a deep exhale. He wasn’t sure he was the most qualified person to have this conversation with the boy. He surely wasn’t the most eager to.

“All Might.” He felt compelled to raise his gaze. Midoriya was pale, his eyes wide and shiny with unshed tears. His expression was heartbreakingly imploring. “Please.”

He was going to find out anyway, at least the bare bones of it. Kindness was one thing, cowardice was another. Denying him an answer at this point felt more like the latter.

“I know him because he is known to the police. He’s a villain.”

“...A villain…?” The information bounced right against Midoriya’s shock. Toshinori gave him a curt nod. “No… no, that’s… not…” 

Toshinori could track the gradual, painstaking process of acceptance the poor kid was going through from the aborted expressions quickly blurring into each other. Horror, fear, confusion, disbelief. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob.

“A-Are you sure?”

Toshinori hesitated. Was there any other possibility they weren’t considering? “Are you absolutely certain that that’s the person you’ve been talking to?”

“I… I’ve never met him in person. B-But mom has, and she’s been talking to him too. She said it’s him.”

“...Then I’m afraid there can be no mistake.” It felt like dropping a boulder on the child’s chest, and the way Midoriya crumpled onto himself, cradling his head in both his hands, reinforced that gut-churning impression. Toshinori made no effort to conceal the sympathy in his whisper. “I’m sorry, kid.”

“H-He said…” The rest of that thought was swallowed into distraught silence.

“He told you he worked for the government?”

Midoriya took his time to answer, and he did so with a half-choked snort. “He… he never did, actually. I thought… He said things that… made me think…”

Toshinori grit his teeth. Figures. That silver-tongued demon wouldn’t spare even a child from his precious little mind games. “I can imagine.”

The silence that followed was only broken by the boy’s quiet sniffles, and it was so long that Toshinori believed the kid to have exhausted his reserve of bravery for further questions. He’d resumed his ill-concealed procrastination via blood-cleaning when the next inquiry dropped.

“What did he do?”

Oh, man. What didn’t he do? “He’s been involved in a variety of criminal activities, both directly and indirectly. He’s… quite the nasty customer.”

“Since when? How long for?” Midoriya gripped his head even more tightly, his fingers digging deep among his curls. 

Toshinori had the distinct feeling that his well-meaning honesty was now trespassing into inadvertent cruelty. “We should wait for your mother before discussing this any-”

“Please.” Midoriya’s head snapped up, and the weight and emotion of those emerald eyes pierced through him like a blade. “Please, just tell me.”

Fourteen years of lies. Toshinori couldn’t bear to add even one more to the heap. “...Since long before you were born.”

Midoriya’s head dropped anew. Toshinori got back on his feet, unsure whether a kind word or a pat on the head could possibly ease that burden even slightly-

The ring of the doorbell made them both flinch, bursting that odd bubble of private desolation that had enveloped the boy’s room. They made their way out of the room, Midoriya quietly trailing behind the hero as the man opened the front door.

Tsukauchi opened his mouth to greet them, and froze. His eyes immediately homed in on the blood liberally splattered on Toshinori’s clothes, and on the melted ice pack Midoriya was still absently pressing to his temple. 

“...What happened?”

Inko Midoriya had the same dark green hair as her son, styled in a way that made something inside Toshinori’s chest ache with nostalgia and familiarity. She had the countenance of a demure, quiet, respectable housewife that valued stability and her loved ones’ well-being above all, and would never even conceive of starting a family with anyone any less sensible than she was.

That was why Toshinori was thrown for a loop when, upon being informed that her absentee husband was a criminal, she simply closed her eyes and bowed her head with a sigh and a resigned “...Yes, I am aware.”

Toshinori let Tsukauchi lead the questioning, as usual. Inko had met ‘Hisashi Midoriya’ (under a different alias, at the time) when she was twenty-six, working as a secretary at the main branch of Detnerat. The man had been introduced to her as a representative from another support item company doing some preliminary checks on Detnerat for a potential merger. 

This was unusual, but not exceedingly so. In the nearly thirty years he’d spent meticulously dismantling All For One’s organization, Toshinori had gathered evidence of him personally handling certain aspects of his schemes with surprising regularity, even relatively minor tasks or dirty deeds that could easily and safely be entrusted to his subordinates. He hardly ever found any specific reasons for All For One’s direct involvement. Toshinori strongly suspected that the bastard simply didn’t enjoy the lifestyle of the cooped-up, invisible puppeteer, and sometimes just felt like wrecking some havoc with his own diabolical hands. 

Inko had been charged with supplying him with quite a sizable amount of rather sensitive data, but since the CEO in person had given the authorization, she had performed her task diligently and unsuspectingly.

Now, Toshinori had been expecting the worst to emerge while questioning the circumstances that had led Inko Midoriya to her current marital status. Without exaggerating, the very worst. Any sort of revolting account of manipulation, coercion, even human experimentation, there was no low All For One wouldn’t stoop to. They had confined the boy to his room before starting for that exact reason. 

But apparently the universe wasn’t done throwing curve balls at Toshinori that day, and what they’d gotten instead was the succinct description of what seemed to be, by all accounts, a perfectly ordinary and unassuming workplace romance. One instigated mainly by Inko herself, no less. Toshinori’s strained mind didn’t quite know what to make of that baffling information, so it promptly repressed it. 

“We didn’t keep seeing each other after he stopped coming to the company, but I did reach out to him when I found out I was pregnant. That was when I became aware that there was much I didn’t know about him.”

“How so?”

“He told me.” Inko replied simply. “He was... forward about it, in a way. He said that he couldn’t settle down in any given place, nor spare the time for being part of a family. He offered to let me join him in his activities, but… the way he worded it made it clear that he wasn’t talking of any sort of legal business.”

“Did he mention any details about what his ‘business’ entailed, in general or in that specific time frame?”

“No, not at all. But considering how we met, I assume he must be involved in industrial espionage.” Grief, brief but intense, shadowed on the woman’s features for a moment. “I… I resigned from Detnerat as soon as I found out. He had been asking rather sensitive questions about the inner workings of the company, and… even though I never technically shared confidential information, I felt like I had exposed it to too great a danger because of my irresponsible conduct. And, honestly… I was afraid of what could emerge if I kept working there in my condition.”

Toshinori rubbed his hands in his lap uncomfortably. No job, a son on the way, a presumably disreputable partner to deal with… What a wretched situation to find oneself in.

“You said he offered you to join him? In what way, exactly?” Tsukauchi asked from above the pages and pages of notes filling his notepad.

“...I am not sure. I didn’t ask, I had no intention of getting caught in that sort of environment. Nor did I want Izuku to grow up embroiled in dubious activities from an early age.” Inko’s brows furrowed, and her fist clenched slightly. “...I didn’t want him to feel abandoned either though. I didn’t want him to grow thinking his father had deserted him. I asked Hisashi to grant us that, at least. Financial support and the decency to call, once in a while.”

Toshinori couldn’t hold back a sharp cough at that. Inko regarded him with a mix of concern and suspicion. 

He couldn’t blame her for it. He had accidentally caused her a fair share of grief when, her son having forgotten to warn her to expect guests upon her return, she’d opened the front door and found a freakishly tall, gaunt, haunted-looking, bloodied stranger looming in her hallway. Toshinori had waited in a conveniently secluded corner of the living room, trying to make himself look as small and non-threatening as possible, while Tsukauchi delivered the proper introductions and deflected the few concerned neighbors her terrified scream had attracted. Not exactly brilliant, as first impressions went.

“And he agreed to that?” Toshinori croaked.

“Yes. I was expecting some resistance, but… he agreed almost immediately.”

Toshinori gaped at the remissive-looking, soft-spoken woman who had once been capable of browbeating All For One into exercising a modicum of fatherly commitment. This whole Midoriya case was getting more and more unbelievable by the hour.

Tsukauchi cleared his throat pointedly. Toshinori scraped back together what little dignity he had left and tried to soldier on.

“Please continue, Mrs. Midoriya.” The detective encouraged.

“There isn’t much else to say, I think. I didn’t hear from him for months after that. I contacted him a few days after Izuku was born, and we’ve kept in touch ever since.”

Tsukauchi tapped his chin with his pen for a few moments, his expression deeply focussed. Then he looked Inko straight in the eye.

“You are being… unexpectedly forthcoming about all this, if I may.”

Inko let out a deep sigh. “I was never under the impression that we could escape the consequences of Hisashi’s actions forever. As soon as Izuku was born, I decided that I would never subject myself or my son to undue duresses just to keep my husband’s secrets. I told Hisashi as much as well.”

Toshinori had to stifle another wet cough with his handkerchief. How on earth was this woman still alive? 

“And he had no qualms about this declaration?”

“No. It rather amused him, actually. He said that any mother worth her salt would put her offspring’s safety above that of their parents. And… something about natural selection and survival of the fittest…” Inko’s eyes flickered upwards briefly, like those of a very normal wife exasperated by the very normal idiosyncrasies of her very normal husband. “He does go off on such tangents.”

“So you aren’t concerned about any possible retaliations on your husband’s part because of your cooperation with us?”

“Oh!” Her eyes went wide, almost shocked by the mere suggestion. “Oh no, I really don’t think he’d be capable of something like that.”

Oh, how very wrong she was. Toshinori frowned, admittedly perturbed by the level of trust All For One had managed to establish within the family without ever even deigning to step in their household. Precautions would have to be taken to protect the Midoriyas from the tragic fate that usually befell all those who were deemed traitors by the Symbol of Fear.

More and more questions followed. With his habitual thoroughness, Tsukauchi pursued a multitude of topics and leads that hadn’t even occurred to Toshinori, at least not so readily. Timing and means of communications, occasional postal deliveries to and from the family, details about the sums of money regularly deposited in the family’s account, and so forth. Toshinori was rather out of his depth here, but he tried his best to help Tsukauchi sort through the reams of documents, receipts, records, and diverse paperwork Inko produced at the detective’s request. By the time Tsukauchi declared to be satisfied with his preliminary inquiries, he had earned himself two plastic bags bursting with evidence, and Toshinori had developed a burgeoning migraine.

As they finally made their way to the entrance, Toshinori glanced at the door to Midoriya’s bedroom. Amidst that cascade of new revelations, they’d barely touched upon the topic of the villain attack and of Midoriya’s quirk with his mother. Toshinori felt genuinely sorry for the difficult conversations that were sure to follow between those two.

He hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten until he stepped outside the Midoriyas’ apartment. Sunset had come and gone, and the lampposts and the bright squares of the neighbors’ windows were the only sources of light in the moonless night of that unassuming residential area. As the door closed behind his back, squeezing into nothingness the rectangular glow framing him and Tsukauchi, Toshinori felt the darkness weigh on his shoulders and seep in his bones almost physically. 

He felt, suddenly, extremely tired.

“I’ll drive you home.” Tsukauchi’s wasn’t an offer, so Toshinori didn’t refuse.

“Thank you.”

They walked to the car as his friend made a couple of quick calls to instruct some agents to watch the house until the next morning. The fresh night air would have felt like a small bliss to Toshinori on any other day, but in that moment it only rattled whatever unpleasant manifestation of his unease had lodged itself in his lung earlier that afternoon and hadn’t left since. He coughed a few times in his fist, then a few more on purpose to make sure he got most of the discomfort in his throat out of his system before he settled in the passenger’s seat.

The drive was quiet. Toshinori gazed absently out of the window, letting the new awareness sink in his mind like a stone in a pond. All For One was alive. All For One was still alive, somehow. Toshinori couldn’t fathom how. They had never retrieved the body, that was true, but there was precious little they had managed to retrieve from the location of their fight back then. It was nothing short of a miracle they’d found Toshinori himself quickly enough to lend medical assistance. The only reason why they’d been able to keep the public from learning of the accident was because it hadn’t happened on the mainland, and the tiny, uninhabited island that hosted it had all but been wiped from the maps. That his foe may have survived that disaster, considering the damage he’d sustained, was almost inconceivable. Toshinori was pretty sure he’d actually caught a glimpse of the man’s exposed brain after landing the last-

“Are you all right?” Tsukauchi asked quietly.

The corner of Toshinori’s mouth twitched upwards. “I’m never going to defy New Year’s fortunes again. Moving away from Tokyo was a terrible idea.”

“This is a good thing. If you hadn’t, All For One would still be out there, and we’d be none the wiser.”

Hell. Five years. For five years they’d been none the wiser. How much strength had All For One regained in five years, while Toshinori’s own slowly went down the drain? How much of his criminal network had he managed to rebuild? How many unnoticed, unreported atrocities had he been plotting and executing, unbeknownst to all? The mere notion made Toshinori’s skin crawl.

But Tsukauchi had the right idea, there was no point in brooding over the current situation. Things could have turned out a lot worse. If Toshinori had already chosen a successor and exhausted One For All’s embers, by now he’d be powerless and useless, and the burden of facing his revived nemesis would have fallen entirely on the new, inexperienced wielder. That truly would have been a worst-case scenario. But as things stood, he could still rely on his quirk for a decent amount of time. He could still tie this dreadful loose end himself before passing the torch, and he’d spare no effort in the endeavor. He’d pursue the monster to the ends of the Earth if he had to, even if it meant wearing himself down to nothing for the rest of his life.

Or meeting his gruesome, bitter end in the process.

Toshinori shivered.

“So,” he heard himself say, “where do we go from here?”

Tsukauchi gave him a stern, silent scrutiny, then he told him.

[poptod]

The Breeding Kings, pt. 14, (Ahkmenrah x Reader)

Description: And the blame.

Notes: WC: 5.6k

+

Crimson painted his clothes as Batnoam fell to his knees, rushing to support his uncle's limp neck. Abdhamon's mouth gaped open as his head lolled to the side, the whites of his eyes rolling back to expose red veins, crawling up to his cloudy iris. A sharp gasp tore through you as you saw this. Batnoam cradled the corpse in his arms, calling his name again and again but never crying. No, he shook the weak shoulders, as though he were trying to wake the man up, not hug him.

Ahkmen grabbed you by the waist, pulling you close with the sudden realization that someone here killed Abdhamon. Someone stabbed him, someone was capable of murder, and he only knew five out of twenty-plus people, and even those relationships were no more than a scant introduction.

Others around him had the same idea––people grouped into each other, drawing closer to those they trusted and staring wide-eyed at anyone they distrusted. Murmurs ran through the crowd as Batnoam finally raised himself to his feet.

"How did this happen," he said, his voice trembling and low.

The mumbles disappeared into silence.

"Who did this?!" He barked louder, causing you to flinch back into Ahk's hold.

"Calm down, Batnoam," Ahk said softly.

"Don't tell me what to do!" He seethed, his hands curling into fists. "Someone here did this. We're four days' travel from any city."

Ahk's grip on your shoulders grew tighter.

"None of you are leaving till the murderer steps forward," said Batnoam as he met the eye of every listener.

"We don't have enough food to just stay here," Khawa said, stepping forward. "We need to keep moving."

"I'll starve all of you out," Batnoam growled. "I don't care how long it takes."

Frightened words poured from the mouths of onlookers, panicked by the sudden proclamation.

"My people need to be in Babylon within the week, we can't afford this kind of break," interrupted one of the women standing beside the Egyptian soldier Makko had warned Ahk about.

"You think I can afford the death of my uncle?" Batnoam responded bitterly.

"I don't –"

"No one is leaving. I want all of you inside this tent, now," Batnoam said as he drew out his sword, pointing everyone towards the white tent that the corpse of Abdhamon bled out under.

Awkward looks were followed by shuffling as Batnoam barked the order again, thrusting the curved blade towards the group. Ahk backed both of you away, rushing you into the tent and pulling you to the furthest corner, and sitting down quietly in hopes of avoiding suspicion.

Over time with you, Ahk slowly realized you only rarely initiated touch with him or anyone, but now you were pressing yourself against him, nearly sitting in his lap. You were wrapped around his arm, your legs half propped up on his own crossed legs.

"We'll do this organized," Batnoam said, watching carefully and counting those seated. "Clean. Fair. Unlike the coward who took Abdhamon in the night instead of facing his opponent like a man."

Ahk grimaced.

"I want you all to pick a representative," he said. "Someone you believe will protect your innocence, should you have it."

You and Ahk looked to each other.

"Do we.. both go up?" He asked softly.

"Do not ask me," you said, raising your hands defensively.

"Hey," someone whispered, tapping you on the shoulder.

You turned and Ahk followed as they tapped his shoulder, as well.

"You can go with us," Makko suggested, gesturing to his group.

"Who's speaking for you?" Ahk asked.

"Khawa."

"Absolutely," Ahk agreed without hesitation. He then turned to you and said in a much softer voice, "right? Is that alright?"

"Yes, that is good," you said quietly, your gaze darting between him, Makko, and Batnoam.

"Okay. Are you feeling alright?"

"Well..." you sucked in a breath as you looked up at him, "no. I do not see... the dead very much."

"Ah," he mumbled.

It was understandable––he was, in a way, desensitized to violence, and found himself more comfortable around it than many others were, but still less comfortable than people such as. He had never been sure whether or not you'd seen the actual death of your family members, and going by your current reaction he'd venture to guess you hadn't. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure what was worse; seeing your parents killed, or having them go missing without a single trace, like they'd never existed in the first place.

He began to wonder about Batnoam, about his parents, if he'd lost them and that was why he was with his uncle now. Batnoam was old enough to be on his own––a little over 20 years old––but that didn't mean he was self-sufficient.

Those thoughts, those questions, left his mind as you curled further into him, feeling your rapidly beating heart through his arm clutched to your chest. He shuffled to try and hold you.

"Don't worry," he murmured, his lips pressed to the top of your head. "I'll keep us safe."

How he would do that he had no idea, but he was assured he would sooner walk into the ocean than leave you defenseless.

Both of you fell asleep, leant against each other until someone knocked Ahk's supporting hand with their foot, collapsing your fragile tower. Ahk looked up in a blunder, recognizing Khawa above him holding a torch.

"What is –" you mumbled as you sat up, before being interrupted.

"I am to question all of you," she said, looking to each of her counterparts, and then to you.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Ahk sighed. "This is going to take forever. The desert isn't exactly a safe place to hold a murder investigation."

"I am fully aware of that, Aganu," she said sternly. "What would you do?"

He had no reply, which was in itself its' own answer. He shrunk into himself and crossed his arms, relenting to Khawa, who nodded her head curtly before beginning with Eshai.

Each interview took hours, leaving the whole of the caravan cooped up, cramped, and irritable. Rumors spread easily beneath the white tent, even into the next morning. Khawa only managed to get through three people by sunrise, leaving you and Ahk to scuff the dirt floor, Ahk braiding short, curled strands of your hair, and you petting your cat curled up after a long night of wandering. Almost all the mud from the dead sea was gone by now, but it still left traces of red in the locks.

Shirat had been plucking her lute for the past couple hours, though there was no melody or rhythm to the notes, and she played very quietly so as to not draw attention. Eshai didn't have that same aptitude, and paced for the hours following his interrogation. Similarly, Makko couldn't stop talking, spouting theories and worries without thought.

"Vhat do you think he will do to whoever did zis?" He asked in a quiet voice, broken by his relentlessly bouncing leg.

"I don't know, Makko," Ahk said, the same thing he said for the last six questions.

"Maybe.. he vill cast zem into the desert?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe he vill just kill zem," he shrugged.

"Well... where does he come from?" Ahk asked, his hands falling from your hair as he focused onto Makko.

"I don't think he ever said," Makko said, pulling at his lip with tense fingers. "He might have said zat he was on the Euphrates, but I do not know for surely."

"That's mostly Babylonian, isn't it?"

Makko shrugged, his eyes falling to the ground.

"They're eye for an eye types," Ahk said quietly.

"... I hope so," Makko mumbled, earning a surprised look from Ahk. He quickly explained himself with, "I do not trust those who can take a life."

"I don't blame you," he said as he returned to your hair, continuing with the small, half-done braid hanging near your ear.

Once his arms tired of holding up his hands, he dropped them into your lap, shifting to wrap himself around your torso from the back. He rested his chin on your shoulder, taking in your scent deeply till he leant on your cheek.

"Be needing something?" You asked with a halfhearted chuckle.

"No," he sighed, enjoying how wholly he could wrap around you, hiding you from sight. "Just a little tired."

"You did sleep," you said.

"A little," he said with a small nod. "Not going to sleep for a while after this."

"Oh. You will still help me to get sleep, yes?" You asked, twisting to try and face him, only to bump your nose with his and turn rapidly away in embarrassment.

"Yeah," he mumbled, slowly resting his chin back on your shoulder as you tried to breathe. "Of course."

Khawa returned with the last of her own people, her attention then turning to Ahk, who was still wrapped around you and dozing uneasily. You nudged him after noticing her look.

"Your turn, Egyptian," she said, turning to leave, leading him to a corner of the abandoned edges of camp, where no one could hear them speak.

He gulped through a tight throat as he sat down on a boulder, his knees pressed tight together and his hands intertwined neatly in his lap. Khawa spared him little mercy, sitting down across from him with a seething look, her glare burning through his consciousness. He hadn't done anything––at least not to his knowledge––but she already had him sweating bullets.

"How had you met this group?" She began with, never blinking even once while Ahk tried to stutter out an answer.

"Batnoam, um.. he and Yogi were talking in one of the shops at Jericho, and, uh... they found out we were going the same direction, so Batnoam introduced us to his uncle," he said, fidgeting with the growing tail end of his hair.

"And how did you meet Yogi?"

"In Egypt," he said with a nod. "My friend introduced us, they worked at the school I attended."

"Why are you travelling through the desert?"

"We're trying to find Yogi's home. They weren't... they aren't safe in Egypt. Yogi thinks Harappa will be better for them," he answered quietly.

"Why is it not safe in Egypt for them?"

"I'm... honestly.." he trailed off as he tried to recall what exactly had spurred the escape on, as there were several occurrences leading up to the decision. "Yogi kept trying to learn what the priests were teaching me and some of the other noble's children, and the soldiers didn't like that, so... I, um, I found them locked beneath the palace."

"Because they were trying to... learn?" She asked with an odd look.

"I know," he said, sighing. "I never claimed Egypt had great ideas when it comes to immigrants and the poor."

"No one really does," she said quietly.

A moment of silence passed before the questions resumed, continuing into the late morning when Khawa finally returned Ahk to the tent. The walk back was equally as silent, Ahk's hands curled into anxious fists even as he sat back down next to you, calming only with your touch on his thigh.

"Are you good?" You asked, your eyes flickering all over his body as though you were searching him for wounds.

"I'm fine," he mumbled, looking away.

"Yogi," a quiet voice said from above, nudging you on the leg. You neck craned up to Khawa. "I need to ask you questions, too."

"Oh," you said, glancing around before picking Sephys carefully off of your lap, and placing her in Ahk's.

Khawa offered you her hand, pulling you up when you took it. You cleared your breath, brushed your clothes of dust and hair, and followed Khawa out of the tent, glancing back to Ahk with a tented brow tight with anxiousness. He had to bite his cheek to avoid following after that look.

She asked you the same questions––why you were there, how you'd come across the troupe, and how you met your companion. You answered to the fullest extent till Khawa leaned in, her tone sobering further as distant conversation muttered in the wind.

"Have you met Aganu's family?" She asked.

"No," you said. "He has not seen my family, too."

She stared at you, seemingly gauging your expression.

"Is he... violent?"

"Not as I have seen," you said, shaking your head.

"And his friends? Have you met them?"

"Yes, they are... full of money, but good people," you said.

Another moment of silence passed before she relented with, "alright. We can go now."

When you returned, you sat back down next to Ahk, earning his attentive worry.

"Did she rattle you?" He asked, scanning you much like you'd scanned him when he came back.

"No, I am good," you chuckled, gently pushing away his tight-gripped hands.

"What did she ask you?"

"Please do not talk about your interviews with each other," Khawa said in a stern but low voice, looking up from the wooden pipe in her hands.

"Sorry," you said instinctively.

"What've you got there?" Ahk asked, squinting as he tried to make out the pipe's intricate details marking up and down the pipe.

"Azullu," she said, pinching more of an herb from an antelope-skin bag, and stuffing it into the bowl end of the pipe, where a crescent moon was carved.

"What is it?" You asked as Ahk shuffled forward on his knees.

He peeked into the small, drawstring bag, to where ground leaves had been dried and turned into a green herb. With a whiff, he easily recalled the scent.

"Hey, we've had this before," he said, nudging you without looking away from the bag.

"We have?"

"It does have many names," Khawa said, shrugging.

"Shemshemet, the, uh..."

"Ohh, the shemet!" You said with the biggest grin he'd seen all night and day.

"They say it is bhang, in Harappa," Makko informed you, glancing briefly away from his embroidery; a long, white sheet half in his lap and half in Eshai's, the both of them sewing tiny beads of faience to the silk fabric.

"You know about my home?" You asked, your excitement giving way for shock (albeit still excited shock). You were practically beaming, leaning closer to Makko who sat across from you in the small circle.

"A little," he said with a nod. "I learned about it while.. working in a library."

"You worked in a library?" Ahk asked.

"Well –"

"You can read, then?" You asked, your eyes growing wider as you expectantly awaited his answer.

"A little," he said again, this time more subdued.

"Alright, I would like some help starting a fire," Khawa stated suddenly as she stood, her pipe in hand.

"Why?" Caifas asked in almost a whine.

"It's already so hot," Eshai added quietly in the Akkadian language.

"Fine. You want to wait to have this?" She gestured to the pipe. "Then you can wait until the night."

She sat back down, her words bringing a dead stop to the conversation held in the circle of seven. In the middle of the silence Ahk's heart began to pound, overflowing with a sudden worry considering the sanity of Batnoam's methods. Food had been his main concern, but now that he thought of it, no one there had any access to water. At all. He dug his uncut nails into his palm, digging in deeper than he'd ever been able to with polished and clean nails.

"How long do you think Batnoam will keep us here?" He asked softly, staring at the ground and addressing no one in particular.

"I do not know," Khawa said in a strained voice.

"We are in a drought, aren't we? We probably aren't going to get more water until we reach Terqa," Ahk said with strained hands.

"I do not think Batnoam cares," you murmured, looking behind you.

Ahk followed your gaze to the distant form of Batnoam, towering over the tiny bushes growing in the somewhat moist area of the desert. He was searching through the tents and tarps, tearing apart beds and campfires in search of something, something which he could apparently not find.

"You are right," you said to him quietly. "We do need to travel alone."

"No, we just need to travel in smaller groups," he said, hoping his words would be of some comfort to you.

You didn't verbally respond, but you leant your head on his shoulder and sighed deeply. He revelled in that touch.

The morning passed into noon and into night, at which time Ahk realized he'd only taken two swallows of water throughout the whole day. His tongue could barely move from the roof of his mouth and he was rubbing his eyes incessantly, partially from the wind that blew burning sand into them, and partially because they were already dry to begin with. Batnoam made no progress, but the people who sat beneath his sword were growing antsy.

Perhaps the only good part of the day finally progressing into the evening was that the seven of them now had a good excuse to light a fire. One could not see the stars sitting beneath a tent, so with Batnoam's permission you went to gather bits of brush and sticks, bringing them back to Khawa's seat.

Once she was satisfied she began to light the fire, muttering incantations to herself in languages neither of you could understand. Instead of asking, you pulled Ahk back down to his own seat, and enjoyed the slow process of creating and taming fire. He moved to find Batnoam, but you pulled him down before he could stand and intertwined your hand with his. That kept him unbreakably near to you.

The fire easily burnt through bits of leaves and soft fibers, glowing just long enough to light the larger parts of wood on fire, as well. Soon the campfire was crackling away, lighting up the darkened tent and allowing Khawa to finally pull the packed pipe out from underneath her robes.

She stuck a thin stick in the fire, lighting the tip of it and bringing it into the bowl. By breathing in from the mouthpiece she inhaled the smoke, allowing it to pour out from her nose and mouth before she drew in again, assuring it would stay alight. Khawa then passed it to Eshai, who was sitting beside her.

Smoke from both the pipe and the campfire began to drift to the ceiling of the tent, pooling in the highest spot till a grey haze blurred out the more distant parties. The smell reached each corner, causing more than a few people to look their way, but none dared to say anything.

Shemshemet––or azullu, as Khawa called it––did wonders for relaxing the body in both physical and mental aspects. His grandfather had used it for the poisoning of the limbs, when his joints began to ache and creak with weary use. Now he called upon its' psychic properties, breathing in deep in hopes of an even deeper cleansing, ridding him of the less useful anxiety. You did the same, inhaling a massive cloud of smoke that billowed out from between your darkened lips.

"Wow," he said involuntarily after the last puffs of smoke left you. You giggled, your hand coming up to cover your mouth that remnants of the herb still left.

"Thank you," you said with a bow of your head in his direction that also left him laughing despite himself.

While desert days could roast an egg on a rock, the evenings were almost pleasant, chilled only by winds that called for yet more campfires to be started. Carpets, bags, and blankets were stuffed away in the corners of the open, white tent, making room for warmth that soon filled up the camp. Batnoam was still nowhere to be seen and had left Bahiti, a woman from Egypt, to survey the people.

No meat was cooked. No searing, no scents, only the burning bowl of shemshemet still drifting skyward. Everyone had unanimously, as well as silently, agreed that tonight would be a night of very little in hopes of preserving their food for the prolonged stay in the Shamiyah desert.

If Ahk stood, which apparently counted as 'suspicious' to Bahiti, he could find the edge of the land beyond the shallow dip in the dunes, towards distant mountains, still short but ragged with red rock. In the night it was little less than a silhouette, a darkened outline beneath the glowing horizon leading up into ink-black night. He had never been further from the Nile, and despite the less-than-suitable circumstances, he still enjoyed the mystery of a land he'd only ever heard about in his caretaker's stories as a child.

Since the bowl, and thus the herb, was shared, passed around by seven people, Ahkmen felt less of the effects than usual. No mind-blowing high or giddy behavior, but instead a vague calmness that helped compress the occurences of the last day and a half.

Abdhamon was dead. His nephew, Batnoam, had learned a fair amount from him, but Ahk correctly surmised he didn't know the desert quite as well as the elder did. That meant many of the stops along the way, many of the oasises, would be lost to the caravan, and water would be more scarce.

"Where do you zink he is?" Makko asked in a whisper, subtly looking out past Ahk's head.

"Batnoam?"

Makko nodded.

"I think he's searching our belongings," Ahk said, turning 180 to look as well before Makko reached panicked hands forward and pulled him back into place.

"Do not let him see you," he said with wide eyes.

"Calm down," Ahk chuckled. "He won't hurt us for no reason."

"He did threaten us with a sword," Khawa added quietly, a pointed argument that left both Ahkmen and Makko silent.

Ahk, who didn't have many hobbies outside studying astronomy and reading, managed to fit seventeen braids into your hair without you noticing. Tiny, woven strands now littered your head, a mark of someone who cares about you, though you wouldn't see them, at least not for a long while now.

You kept yourself busy for a while––helping Makko, Eshai, and Khawa embroider the silk cloth, or working on mending your own tattered clothes, but you soon tired of sewing. For the last hour you'd been doing nothing but playing with Sephys, and even she was growing sick of you.

"Yogasundari," he murmured, tapping your arm. You immediately turned to him. "Come lie down with me."

"You are going to sleep?" You asked, but still followed him as he lay on his back, trailing as though you were tied to him.

"No, I want to show you something."

As promised, Ahk couldn't quite get tired what with all the ruckus, and since the fires were going on their last embers, the sky would be clearer now than any other time.

Waiting.

A day and a half of waiting, and at last you were on your backs next to each other, staring up at the same stars. His shoulder brushed yours, but your hands remained folded neatly on your chest.

"Did you know the pyramids are the stars?" He asked, tilting his head to you.

".. how?" You asked in a soft, mystified voice.

"The entrance to Osiris' palace lies in the brightest star," he said as he raised his arm, pointing to Sirius. "Sirius, and then Orion."

"They are.. together?"

"Well the pyramids, the three large ones that I took you by, they are matching to the belt of Orion, and the great Sphynx of the city matches the great Lion of the sky," he said, shifting to point to the lion's constellation. "That is where the sun rises in the aftermath of creation."

"In the death?"

He nodded.

"And the belt of stars," he gestured to the ring of white stardust painting the middle of the sky, "is the Nile, on earth. With the living."

"So in death... the river is the stars," you said, turning from the stars to him.

"A little, yes," he chuckled, adoring the humored gleam in your eye.

"And the Pharaoh is the stars," you said.

"Yes, when Pharaohs die, they become the stars. Particularly over..." he scanned the sky for a moment, "there."

A cluster of bright stars remained hidden near the horizon.

"Ah," you whispered, nodding. "I am happy to see you are doing good with your... your promise."

"Which one?" He asked, recalling what you were talking about only after he'd asked.

"You will tell me what you know, remember?" You said as you met his eye expectantly. "I will give you all the beer you want."

"Don't worry about that," he said, sitting up with a tone of seriousness in his movements. "You don't need to make me anything or give me anything. I came with you willingly and I will share with you willingly."

You giggled, closing your eyes and turning away with reddened cheeks. Your knees propped up, hands coming to fall beside your head, even as you shook your head to yourself.

"What?" He asked with a grin.

"You will share with me?" You asked through your giggles.

"Everything," he answered.

"Everything?" You repeated, your brows quirking up.

You shot up, reaching a lightning-fast hand forward and snatching the scarf off his head. He let out a small, subdued shout from the suddenness of it.

"I do look good?" You asked, situating the scarf over your already existing hat, as well as over all the braids Ahk had managed to fit into your hair.

"Wonderful, as always," he chuckled.

"Then I will have your shirt too," you said, and before he could process what you said you were tugging at his shirt, undoing the tassels and buttons and practically ripping it off his body.

"Hey!" He said indignantly, his mouth falling open as he stared at you confused.

Somehow, you managed to fit his shirt over your clothes as well, now wearing double-hats and double-shirts while Ahk only had his pants and sandals left.

"Meanie," he said, plucking the scarf off your head and wrapping it around his bare waist.

"Here, you need this, for your head," you said, unable to stop giggles from pouring out of you as you set his shirt over his head. He laughed, his vision mostly blocked by the large piece of fabric.

"Mother Goddess," Makko interrupted, turning to both of you with a very strange look on his face. "How long have you two been married?"

"Honeymoon time," Caifas said quietly.

"Honey-what?" You asked, at the same time Ahk said –

"We're not married," said Ahkmen far too quickly. His eyes darted to you and back to the group at large.

Everyone fell silent as they gave him odd stares.

"What??" He asked again, and they dropped it.

"What is honeymoon?" You whispered, tugging at his arm.

"Nothing. Phase of moon," he mumbled.

Footsteps grinding against rock and brush interrupted the murmurs of conversation passing around the tent. Ahk turned to see Batnoam, black crescents beneath his eyes and a dagger in his hand as he approached the caravan. He pulled you into him, shielding you away as Batnoam passed by, headed towards the center to address those who stared at him.

"Nassor?" He called; the name of the Egyptian soldier.

Ahk could physically feel his will shrinking as Nassor stood, his tall, dark form sticking out amongst the light colored robes of his group. He stepped forward without flinching.

"You tossed this away," Batnoam said, practically growling the words as he pointed the bloodstained dagger directly at Nassor's neck. The man still didn't flinch. "I know you were carrying it while we were travelling. The hilt is quite recognizable."

"You have no proof," Nassor stated flatly, crossing his arms.

"We're a thousand spans from any government, Nassor," he spat. "I don't need evidence to do in with you."

"You w-"

Nassor's word stopped with the gushing of blood, his own dagger thrust into his throat. You gasped sharply, backing up into Ahk as you once more covered your mouth, wide eyes burning with fear.

With a harsh pull, Batnoam leased the blade from Nassor's neck, allowing the soon-to-be corpse to fall to his knees. Shouts and claims of insanity began to come from the crowd, something Ahk should've expected sooner than he did.

"Quiet! All of you," he barked above the noise, pointing the dagger covered in two men's blood to the crowd, causing drops of it to fall upon them. "Bahiti says there's another. Someone who told Nassor what to do."

Ahk glanced to those surrounding him both near and far, a sudden agitation building in his veins.

He's going insane, he thought, his eyes darkening.

"That person, or persons, is going to step forward," he met each listener's eye, "or I'm going to start killing till I find the right one."

You gave Ahk a look that screamed, 'what the fuck'.

"You can't do that!" Someone cried, but was quickly hushed by a hand over their mouth. Others voiced such things in wavering tones.

Batnoam reached into the crowd, dragging out one of the men from Cyprus by his hair. Ahkmen hadn't met the man before, but he had a short stature, long hair, and was clawing at Batnoam's hands in an attempt to release them. His woman companion leased a cry of his name; Aegeus. At the sight of this you dug into your bag, searching frantically for some sort of potion that would be of use in such a situation.

Before you could find anything befitting, Makko suddenly shot up from his spot beside Ahk, yelling something he couldn't process till the whole of the tent turned dead silent.

"It's me," he'd said, a proclamation both you and Ahk had a visceral reaction to.

"What?" Ahk said astounded.

"I'm –" his voice cracked, "I did not kill anyone, but I'm probably ze reason your uncle is dead."

Batnoam, who was still holding the man by his hair with a knife to his throat, paused to listen with dead eyes. Attention fell to Makko, who began to shake with the many eyes pointed towards him.

"My father's wife hired men to do away vith me. I had to leave my home, but I am sure those hunters would chase me even here," he said, growing quieter as he finished.

"Why has she done that?" You asked.

"Mostly to legitimize her son's claim to the throne," he mumbled.

"The throne?" Batnoam repeated, seemingly in the same state of disbelief and shock as everyone else. He released the man, who scrambled back to his wife.

Ahkmen, sensing an opportunity, decided to look out across the faces. Most had open mouths, others wide eyes, but all paying ardent attention, except two men sitting close to each other, who only looked up sparingly to glare at Makko.

"It's them," he said suddenly, interrupting Makko's next sentence as he pointed a finger to the two men. He stood and continued with, "they're the only ones not surprised by what you're saying."

All eyes turned to the two men, one of which began to look rather frightened, while the other turned to anger.

"Just because we're not paying attention doesn't mean we know what you're talking about," one of them said with a glare.

"It's hardly evidence," the other said.

"Haven't we been over this?" Ahk asked, empowered for the first time in days to tease. He tapped his chin as though he was thinking it over. "Oh, right. We're weeks away from civilization. No law requires proper evidence... it's only what we know."

One of the stranger's faces paled, while the other hardened, glaring at Ahkmen.

Batnoam motioned to Aegeus––the short, stocky man with the terrified wife––who steeled his expression, grabbed the two men, and threw them forward to land in front of Batnoam, their faces scratched and scuffed with dust. Stress still remained knotted into his features, shifty eyes switching between the members of his own group and Batnoam.

"How did you say you were from? How you got here?" Batnoam demanded, now pointing the blade to the men knelt before him.

"Theodore said he was from mainland Greece," Aegeus answered for him, his voice broken and cracking. "But Mopsus travelled recently from the Persian Gulf. Elam, I believe."

"Elam, they have made much grief with Assyrians," Batnoam said, eyes flickering between the two men. "Someone must've payed you off, and you killed my uncle to cover your tracks, just in case anyone knew who Makko is."

He leaned in, pressing the dagger up against Mopsus' neck, drawing a thin sliver of crimson blood.

"I live for killing filth like you," he spat.

With that, he shot the blade in a straight line, slicing open his throat. Mopsus let out garbled sounds as bubbling blood poured from him, filled his mouth so as to make him choke on his own lifeline. Ahk curled you into his chest, hiding your face from view as he fell from his knees, thumping onto the carpet floor. He could feel you flinch at each sound, and the panicked breathing that followed.

Another body thumped to the ground before Batnoam stood, straightening his back as he gazed down upon the mangled bodies still bleeding out onto the carpets.

"Alright," he breathed out, tossing the dagger to the side. "Let's get the hell out of this desert."

[twomoonstwosuns]

the interview.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warning: smut (18+), swearing, fluff

word count: 4.7k

a/n: guys I'm so sad, this is it before the epilogue. I have many thoughts and feelings that I'll put in a different post but this would not be what it’s become without you so THANK YOU!

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“Hey Poe, it’s me. I just got out of my interview. I think it went well, but…I don’t know. We’ll see. I think I rambled a little bit. Anyway, you’re probably going into your interview now so good luck, I love you, you’re going to do great, and I can’t wait to hear all about it tonight. Love you, bye.”

Tucking your phone back into your bag, you walked along the boardwalk towards the café you were meeting Finn at for lunch. He had texted you saying he got stuck in some traffic and would be a few minutes late. You decided to wait for him outside, the view of the ocean sparkling in the bright sun too enticing to not stop and admire for a bit. 

The interview, at least, hadn’t been a disaster. The job was an entry level position at a small public relations firm looking to expand it’s teams. It was nerve-wracking at first at the beginning, but as you learned more about the company and got into comfortable conversation with your interviewer, you felt more confident. There were a few questions you answered that you felt nerves got the better of you, like four years of knowledge just flew right out the window, and you talked in sentences you weren’t even sure were complete. But the woman interviewing you didn’t say anything and at times seemed almost charmed by it. You could only hope. 

As you stood against the wooden fence separating the edge of the boardwalk from a large span of grass, a part of you could see yourself moving to Los Angeles, enjoying the sun everyday and taking weekly trips to Venice or Santa Monica to spend the day by the beach. It was incredibly tempting. 

But you’d be alone, your friends, family, and boyfriend a thousand miles away. You didn’t know if you could enjoy it without any of them there. 

Sunglasses perched on your reddening nose, the gentle ocean breeze moved your curled hair around your face. He sound of the waves was calming, putting you so far into a daze that you didn’t even hear the footsteps approaching you. 

“I promise, if you move here that view will never get old.”

Finn stood behind you, hands in his pockets as he looked at the ocean. He smiled when you jumped at the sound of his voice bringing you out of your calming trance. He took a step towards you and hugged you tightly, lifting you up off the ground. 

“How are you, nugget?”

“I’m good! I miss you. How are you?”

“Also good. Hungry.”

“Come on, let’s go eat then.”

Finn set you down and you followed him into the café, taking a peek at the menu before ordering and bringing a number plaque over to a table. 

“So, congrats on graduating! You’re a real life working adult now. Or, you will be.”

You gave him an uncertain smile. “Thanks…I’m terrified. I’ve had one job interview and I’m ready to marry rich and jet across the world as a trophy wife.”

Finn chuckled. “You’ll be fine. How’d the job interview go?”

“Okay, I think…they said they’d call me within a day or so if they want me to do a second interview. They’re interviewing a few other people so I might not hear anything until tomorrow or even Monday.”

“I think they call you.”

“You’re just biased,” you teased and Finn smirked and shrugged. 

“Maybe a little.” He sent you a wink and you giggled, his tone teasing but the vote of confidence greatly appreciated nonetheless. The waiter came by with the food, sandwiches for both of you, and set them in front of you. 

“So what’s new with you? I’ve barely talked to you the last few weeks…finals and all…”

“Well, I’ve been seeing a girl who lives up here.”

“Really?” You smiled. “Tell me about her.”

“Her name is Paige, I’ve been seeing her about four and a half months now…”

“Since January?” He nodded. “Poe didn’t mention you were seeing anyone…”

“He doesn’t know. I really, really like her and things have been moving kind of fast and I didn’t want to jinx it.”

“Moving fast isn’t a bad thing…hello, I met Kes after a month of dating and told Poe I loved him after two and a half months.”

“And he knew he loved you when Rey and I met you.”

“See? Poe and I are the king and queen moving fast and look at us! We’re happy!” Finn chuckled. “So, tell me more about her. What’s she like?”

Finn smiled and shook his head. “She’s amazing and beautiful and funny…she went to school for business and accounting but found it boring, so she’s worked tons of odd jobs…like, she worked at Disneyland for a bit, she’s an artist and she’s had her paintings featured in a couple galleries around SoCal…currently she works part time at a bar in Santa Monica and she’s an L.A. tour guide on the weekends.”

You quietly squealed. “Look at that smile on your face! You really like her!”

Finn nodded slowly and took his bottom lip and tucked it under his teeth.

“Can you keep a secret?”

You nodded and Finn grabbed his wallet from his pocket. He pulled out a picture and set it in front of you. The blur of black, grey, and white gave way to a very obvious shape in the middle of the picture. 

“Finn!” You gasped, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. The smile on his face was so wide you were sure it would split his face in half. 

“Ten weeks. Well, she’s twelve weeks now. We wanted to wait until the three month mark to start telling people.” You looked up at him, eyes wide. He looked at the sonogram adoringly. “It was a complete accident, so hopefully she likes me enough to put up with me for the rest of our lives.”

Your eyes watered and you smiled widely. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks, nugget. I’m so…fuck, I’m so excited. Granted, this isn’t the way I wanted to do this…I imagine I’d be married first…”

You smiled softly. “As long as that baby is loved, which I have no doubt that he or she will, then who cares how it happened.”

Finn nodded and grabbed the picture, smiling at it once more before putting it back into his wallet. 

“You’re going to be an amazing dad, Finn,” you said softly, placing your hand on his arm. “And I can’t wait to meet your girlfriend.”

“We’re coming up fourth of July weekend. Poe, Rey, and I rent a cabin on the lake and we spend the long weekend there. You’ll probably be coming so you can meet her then.” You nodded happily, already excited for something happening a month and a half away.

“So, when are you and Poe having kids?” You threw your head back and laughed loudly. “What?! You said you guys move fast!”

You threw one of your chips at him and it bounced off of his chest and onto the floor. 

“Yeah, not that fast! I just finished school, I’m not ready to have a baby!”

“But by Christmas, right?” 

You giggled and threw another chip at him, which he caught and popped into his mouth. Your phone buzzed on the table and you saw an unfamiliar number flashing on your screen. Finn looked at it and raised his eyebrows. 

“That’s an L.A. area code.”

You swallowed hard and answered the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, I’m looking for Y/N L/N.”

“Yes, this is…” you said nervously. Finn looked at you with interest.

“Y/N, this is Jyn Erso with Erso PR.”

“Oh, hi…” Finn mouthed ‘who is it?’ at you and you held a finger up. The woman on the other end chuckled warmly. 

“I can tell you’re a little surprised I’m calling you right now.”

“Yeah, a little…I just left a little under two hours ago.”

“Well, I took a closer look at your resume and some of the work in your portfolio and, with your interview earlier today, I wanted to call and offer you the job.”

Your eyes widened and you stumbled over your words. “Wha—wait, really?”

“I know we said we’d call you to set up a second interview but I was very impressed with you today and I think you’d make a great addition to our team.”

“Wow, um…thank you!” You looked at Finn and bit your lip. “Can I…could I think about it?”

“Of course you can. I know you’re coming from quite a ways away and have a lot of factors to consider, so please take a few days to think about it. The number I’m calling from is my office number, please feel free to call it if you have any questions.”

“I will. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N. Have a good day and a safe flight home.”

You hung up the call and looked at Finn, your face showing a disbelieving smile. 

“I got the job.”

“Damn, congratulations!” You didn’t, couldn’t, say anything. You were still in a little bit of shock from receiving that phone call. “Or not…?”

“I….I don’t know! I wasn’t expecting this!” You sat back in your chair, crossing your arms in front of you and looking at Finn. “What do I do?”

“Well, you obviously didn’t say yes…did they say you could think about it?” You nodded. “Then you think about it.”

You sighed. “This job…there’s so many opportunities for growth. It’s the kind of job that could kickstart by career. Honestly, I’d be stupid not to take it.”

“But there’s a lot of factors you have to consider.”

“Exactly…I don’t know what to do.” You looked up at Finn. “What do I do?”

Finn sighed and finished off his sandwich, wiping his hands and tossing the napkin in the basket. 

“I wish I could tell you to just take it, but it’s not that easy.”

You exhaled sharply and ran a hand through your hair. 

“No, it’s not.”

》 》 》

The job offer was in the back of your mind the rest of your lunch with Finn and didn’t fully sink in until you were on your way to the airport. You spent the two and a half hour plane ride going through every pro you could think of: the job itself, working and building your career, a new city with lots of opportunities, and sunshine and warmth everyday. But there were also the cons: moving expenses, finding an apartment you could actually afford that was close to work, and navigating a new city. Not to mention your friends and family would be a thousand miles away. 

Poe would be a thousand miles away. 

You walked off the plane and drove home still undecided. Even the drive home couldn’t help you come to a decision. You were much too excited to see Poe and hear about his interview. He had texted you when you landed that he was finishing up with dinner and insisted on waiting for you to get there to eat, but you encouraged him to go ahead without you. Your stomach felt twisted with nerves and there was no room for food at that moment. 

You walked into Poe’s apartment and was immediately greeted by Beebs. The smell of garlic and other spices was intoxicating and you followed it to the kitchen where Poe was dishing it up into containers for you to eat later. 

“Hey!” He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, walking over and pecking your lips quickly before putting the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. “How as your flight?”

“Good,” you said, dropping your stuff and taking off your shoes. “Little turbulent, but fine.”

Poe smiled and came around the counter, leaning against it and crossing his arms. You could hardly contain the smile on your face.

“So?”

Poe smiled widely. “I got the job.”

“You got it?!” You exclaimed. “I’m so proud of you!”

He shook his head in disbelief. “I still can’t believe it…I’ve been pinching myself making sure it was real all day. After all the sabotage from Hux and our secret relationship, Leia really stuck her neck out for me to get this job.” You smiled proudly. “This is just…the best fucking day.”

The smile on his face reached his eyes, which shone brightly with pure happiness. “I’m so, so happy for you, Poe. You deserve this. You’re an amazing teacher and you’re going to make an amazing head of the department. Your department.”

“I haven’t accepted the job yet. I wanted to talk to you about it, especially because you just had a job interview yourself. Which, speaking of, how did it go?”

“I actually got the job too.”

“You did?! Congrats!”

“Thanks…but I’m not going to take it.”

Poe’s smile disappeared. “You’re not?”

You shook your head.

“Why not?”

“I don’t want it.”

“But raved about interviewing for this job. It’s what you’ve been talking about for weeks. You were so excited and now you got it.”

“And you got yours.”

“Babe, I don’t want you to feel like I’m making you choose between me and a job—“

“You’re not,” you stressed, taking a step towards him. “This is my decision. I am choosing you over the job and I’m perfectly okay with it. I’m just starting to job hunt and if I take the first job I’m offered, I can’t build up my interview skills and I won’t know what else is out there. What if I find something better? My gut is telling me this is the right move, so I’m doing it.”

“Have you thought this all the way through? I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

“I have thought about it. I talked to Finn earlier at lunch after they called me and did nothing but think about it while I was waiting for my flight and on the airplane. I was still undecided up until you told me you got your dream job, the one you’ve been talking about for months and months.” You sighed and put your hands on his chest. “You almost sacrificed getting this job to protect me…to protect us. Now you’ve got the job and all I want to be here to hear all about it at the end of the day. And I can’t do that if I’m in California."

Poe gave you a look of uncertainty and you smiled softly. “I love you. So much. We did not fight this hard for our relationship just to do long distance. This is what I truly want.”

Poe nodded and returned your smile. “As long as it’s what you want.”

“It is.”

Silence fell over you for a moment before your delighted squeals pierced the air. Poe had suddenly grabbed your waist, picking you up and spinning you around. Your arms went around his neck and he kissed the spot where your neck met your shoulder before looking at you.

“I got the job.” He smiled and you put your hands on his cheeks.

“You got the damn job.”

You pulled his lips to yours, the two pairs moving passionately together. After months and months of uncertainty and secrecy, things were finally going your way. 

“Do you want to go get a drink to celebrate?”

You smiled suggestively and shook your head. “Maybe tomorrow. Tonight…I want to celebrate with you. Alone. Naked.”

He smirked and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he quickly made his way to his bedroom, his lips connecting with yours once again. He nearly dropped you on the bed in his excitement and you sat up as he got on the bed next to you. You moved to straddle his lap and your kisses grew hotter, the passion just as intense but the desire for each other burning brighter as you ground your hips against his. You grabbed your shirt and brought it up over your head, Poe leaning in and kissing your chest before you could toss it aside. His dark hair was messy from your hands and became more disheveled when you yanked his shirt off. 

He smirked and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he quickly made his way to his bedroom, his lips connecting with yours once again. He nearly dropped you on the bed in his excitement and you sat up as he got on the bed next to you. You moved to straddle his lap and your kisses grew hotter, the passion just as intense but the desire for each other burning brighter as you ground your hips against his. You grabbed your shirt and brought it up over your head, Poe leaning in and kissing your chest before you could toss it aside. His dark hair was messy from your hands and became more disheveled when you yanked his shirt off. 

“You’re sexy,” you said as you ran your hands over his chest. He smirked and reached for the buttons of your dress pants. 

“You’re fucking sexy,” he retorted, dipping his fingers into your underwear and immediately finding your clit. Your mouth opened slightly and he wrapped his arm around your waist and started to lay you down on the bed.

“No, wait!”

Poe froze and you pushed him back to his position on the bed, his eyebrow cocked with curiosity. 

“You want to be on top?”

You smirked mischievously and grabbed his wrist, removing his fingers from your pussy. You brought them to your mouth and gave them a quick suck before moving down his lap and further down the bed, bringing his pants down with you. Kissing his stomach, your fingers dipped under the band of his briefs. He was already hard and you wasted no time removing his briefs and wrapping your hand around him. Poe let out a soft sigh of approval as you pumped him slowly. You swirled your tongue lightly around the tip and Poe let out a sound between a moan and a whimper with a very quiet plea falling from his lips. 

“I’m sorry,” you giggled. “What was that?”

He swallowed hard, his body ringing with want. “Please.”

You smiled up at him and wrapped your lips around him, taking him in your mouth inch by inch. His head fell back against the pillows, closing for just a minute before looking back down at you. He gathered your hair back so it was out of your face, biting his lip and watching your head bob as you sucked him off. A quiet ‘fuck’ left his lips and you released him from your mouth, your hand pumping him quickly and your tongue found the base of his cock. You ran your tongue slowly, teasingly up the length of him before taking him in your mouth again. Your hand and mouth worked in tandem, bringing him closer and closer to the edge each time he watched your cheeks hollow around him. 

But Poe wasn’t ready to be done quite yet.

“G—fuck….get up here.”

You ignored him, sliding your mouth all the way down his length until he touched back of your throat. The groan that came from him came deep from within him and it took all his strength to tug on your hair again instead of giving into the immense pleasure you were giving him and coming too soon. 

“Get up here. Now.”

You let him go with a pop, crawling up into his lap again. “Mmm, bossy. I like it.”

He smirked as you grabbed him again to line him up with your entrance. “Another day, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip and nodded as you sunk down on him slowly, a soft groan leaving your lips as he filled you all the way up. He attached his lips to your neck, his teeth leaving little love bites along your collarbone as you grinded against him. Your hand came back up to his hair, tugging the inky strands at the base of his neck and he quietly moaned at the mix of pain and pleasure. 

“F—ohhh…fuck, baby…” your voice was breathy, a sound Poe could listen to forever. The way you called him ‘baby’, even in the throes of pleasure, tugged on his heartstrings a little bit. One hand splayed across your back, the ends of your hair threading between his fingers. The other hand rested on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as each shot of pleasure hit deep in your stomachs. 

Poe’s lips traveled down to your chest and attached to your breast, sucking small marks onto your skin. A symphony of sounds filled the room: the sound of skin slapping against skin, yours and his moans of pleasure, and his name tumbling past your lips with a slew of expletives. Your hand found his headboard, grabbing it to use as leverage and support as your body was weakened by pleasure.

He kissed up your neck and found your lips once again, his tongue invading your mouth and tangling with yours. You moved faster, your body becoming slick with exertion. You struggled to kiss him back, your quick movements making you nearly gasp for breath. You rode him hard, the both of you chasing the high you wanted so badly. 

You whimpered as you the burn in your belly grew hotter, the mind-blowing orgasm you always got with Poe building. Poe felt the same, having used a great deal of strength to hold off so he could give you the same kind of ecstasy you were giving him. Your body tensed and you clenched around him as his cock found that spot that drove you absolutely wild. 

“Come for me, baby…” Poe’s voice was also breathless but still held the tone of finality, like he was commanding you. The idea alone spurred you on further and his hands helped you slam yourself down onto his cock, your body movements becoming sloppy as you started to lose control. “Come on baby, that’s it.”

His thumb found your clit and he rubbed it quickly, the sudden addition of stimulation making your body twitch and send you over the edge. You came hard, your body shaking in his hands and a loud moan coming from deep within your throat as the iron struck white hot in your lower stomach. He held you still and thrust up into you and your hand shook the headboard, making it loudly knock against the wall. Poe gritted his teeth and his head fell back as he came, spurt after spurt of his release filling you up. You both slowed, the intensity of your orgasms making you fight to catch your breath like you just ran a marathon. Your head fell against his and he presses his lips to whatever part of your face that was closest to him. 

“You…you ride me so well.”

You let out a breathless laugh, allowing Poe to put both arms around you and bring you down on top of him as he laid back against his pillows. He rubbed your back slowly, neither of you bothering to move. His softening cock stayed nestled inside you as the both of you catching your breath in the afterglow.

“You know, I was thinking?” Poe asked after several minutes of comfortable silence. You hummed in acknowledgement. “You should move in with me.”

You looked up at him, your fingers running along the silver chain around his neck. 

“You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“It might be…but I also know this is what I want.”

He reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering. 

“We went on our first date on Valentine’s Day but we’ve technically been dating since Halloween,” he said, the memories making you smile. “I know it was supposed to be just a one time hookup and then after that just casual sex but it ended up being a lot of talking. We were basically on dates, we just did sex first and got to know each other afterwards. So, in my mind, we’ve been together for about seven and a half months.”

He ran his knuckle across your cheek and you didn’t know if your cheeks were still flushed from sex or  if they were flushing from the way he was looking at you - with pure love and adoration. 

“If it’s too soon for you, it’s okay. I do want to move in with you, but we can wait until you’re ready. Just the fact that you’ll be close by instead of hours and hours and hours away is good for me.”

You took in every word he said. The whole point of your plan to decline the job offer was to be with Poe, and moving in with him would mean being with him all the time. There was a sliver of doubt that crossed your mind, that maybe you’d get annoyed with each other after living together for awhile and learning each other’s daily quirks. 

“What do you see? When you think about us moving in together?”

Poe smiled softly. He knew exactly what kind of house he wanted to move into someday. Since he imagined having a kid or two, he wanted a basement or an extra room to be used as a playroom. He wanted a big backyard with a large deck and fire pit for late summer nights. He’d thought about it plenty, imagined his future home many many times before you, but it became so much more clear to him after you told him you loved him. Poe had been thinking of you moving in since before graduation, but held off saying anything because of your job interview. He didn’t want you to feel pressured if you had gotten the job…like you had to give up the opportunity because you were moving. 

He wanted all that with you, but he wouldn’t sacrifice your future to make his come true.

“Well…” He started, making sure to word things carefully so he wouldn’t scare you with how much he’d thought this through. “For now, we’d find a bigger apartment or a townhouse to rent…somewhere where there’s enough space for all of your things as well as mine…I think we’ve seen enough of the inside of this apartment.” You laughed lightly and nodded. “Maybe find one with an extra room we can turn into an office for us to work in. Eventually I’d like to buy a house, but I think that’s a few years away still.”

Though Poe was sparing you details, you could tell he’d been put a lot of thought into it. You didn’t blame him, he was in his early thirties and wanting to start settling down and building a life. You were still young, twenty-two with all the adventures of your twenties waiting for you…but you couldn’t imagine doing any of them without Poe. Navigating your way into the world post-education was going to be difficult. Nothing is promised. But having a place of your own to come home to with someone you loved, where you could relax and unwind and have that feeling of comfort and safety…you wanted that. 

“That’s just what I’ve been thinking. We certainly don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” His voice brought you back from our own thoughts and you nodded slowly and continued to play with his necklace. 

“You know I was talking to Finn earlier about how we move fast but everything’s worked out pretty good so far.” You shrugged, biting back the wide smile that was threatening to take over your face. “I don’t see why we should stop now.”

A smile slowly spread across Poe’s face. “Really?”

You nodded and sat up a little bit so you were hovering over him. 

“Let’s start looking. See what we find. In the meantime…”

“You’ll move in with me?” He asked hopefully, his eyes lighting up like a kid in a candy store. You smiled widely. 

“I would love to move in.” Poe leaned up and kissed your lips squarely and surely. “I can leave now, start packing…”

“Oh no,” Poe smirked as he wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re not going anywhere. Tonight, we celebrate.”

He rolled you over onto your back, never separating from you and burying his face in your neck and kissing it all over. Your laughter filled the room and you kissed him passionately, the room soon filling with different noises of pure happiness. 

You couldn’t wait to start your future with him. 

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[yurimother]

Interview: Shilin Huang, Creator of Amongst Us and Carciphona

Shilin Huang ( @okolnir​​ )is a Canadian freelance artist and comic creator, known for her long-running series Carciphona. She has a Bachelor of Music in Performance from the University of Western Ontario. Carciphona is a long-form fantasy story set in a world where demon-magic is forbidden. The series follows a young sorceress named Veloce, and the mythical assassin assigned to kill her, Blackbird.

Shilin’s newest book, Amongst Us, based on the webcomic of the same name, is an alternate universe comic that reimagines Veloce and Blackbird as musicians and girlfriends in the modern world. You can support the physical release for Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today.

The first book of Amongst Us is coming soon. How do you feel about the release?

Eager and relieved!! I had worked for so long to make the web format viable for print format, as well doing all the extra drawings that were necessary--like covers--that I had to keep under wraps, it felt great to know that that part is finally done and I can release my child into the wild. I was very worried too before the launch of the Kickstarter, because though I am the one who made this story, I am not quite a slice-of-life type of person myself, and it was hard for me to see value in this mundane, not-plot-driven kind of story as a printed book. But I was very lucky to have that worry dispelled!

What drew you towards creating comics and artwork? Was it a dream of yours?

I’ve been drawing since before elementary school because I enjoyed it, and somewhere along the way, I wanted to create my own characters, and then I wanted stories for them. It was always just me doing what I felt like doing, more so than something that I aspired towards achieving consciously. If I had to analyze the allure myself, maybe it was because people and the world are so interesting, I’ve always loved thinking about their nature and circumstances, and art/storytelling was the best way for me to explore and share those thoughts.

Could you briefly walk us through your creative process for making a page of Carciphona or an episode of Amongst Us?

Carciphona is a long, plot-driven story, and so the scale of preparation required before the page eclipses the actual drawing of the page itself. [A] small moment has some larger impact in the plot, character development, and accuracy of world-building. So I usually spend about half a year or more writing out an entire volume, read it over many times over the course of the years, before I do the same thing with sketching the entire volume on the computer, rearranging pages and panels and entire scenes for best delivery, before I finally commit to drawing out each page in detail on the computer. 

Where Carciphona is like an elaborate set course where I chop up and measure ingredients and time their cooking with a careful game plan so everything can be served as they should, Amongst Us is more like an omelette that I’m making to taste. There is still planning and writing ahead of time, but each episode is much more self-contained, and I do more of the planning of the episode within the episode itself, adding and taking away details as I see fit before I feel like it reads naturally enough for me to fine line, colour, and paint.

You talk about being a self-taught artist, how did you learn to create artwork? What are some of your favorite educational resources?

While I did come across many tutorials, they were mostly short ones here and there made by my peers, so I don’t have any favourites in my mind that I can share ): . I learned by just looking at the art of my peers at the time and drawing a lot myself, thinking about what I could learn from each time I see something great, and what I could try next time to make the next drawing look better to me. When I had just started drawing digitally, the internet was quite new, drawing tablets expensive and uncommon, with no social media to share art or find resources. Over time, I did try to learn more properly by doing studies and seeking out professional tutorials, but I found that I hated it and decided that I’d rather learn and make mistakes at my own pace and be happy than to commit to effective and efficient learning and make myself dislike drawing.

Amongst Us is, of course, an Alternate Universe comic featuring characters from Carciphona. What inspired you to put your characters into a GL slice of life work?

Back in 2006, when I started drawing Carciphona, I had no plans of this frenemies dynamic for the two main characters, Blackbird and Veloce, and when the thought had occurred to me as I continue to tweak the story, canon GL relationships were still rare and rarely accepted. I was even told on many occasions by readers that they hope the two do not end up with some couples dynamic, or they will no longer be interested in the story. Ultimately, Carciphona was a fantasy story about an entire world, and I wasn’t going to risk the story’s reception over a small detail like whether or not Blackbird and Veloce sleep together, so I just played with the ideas of their relationship on the side, in paintings of many different AUs. Eventually, all that did was make me become so attached to the idea that I decided to say, screw it, I need someplace where they could be together, and I’m drawing an AU for real.

Where do you draw inspiration from for your work? Both Amongst Us and Carciphona.

I love a lot of things, feelings, aesthetics, and I eat up all of that and take it back out in the form of my stories. The inspiration is everywhere, from beautiful imagery I witness in pictures and in real life, to [the] lives of people that I hear about or experience firsthand, to the ethics and structures of professions from mechanics to medicine… In feelings, knowledge, and perspective, there’s an infinite amount of things that makes me think, and that thinking is what creates AU and Carciphona, whether or not that line of inspiration can be clearly drawn back to the root of the thought.

What are some of your biggest challenges or fears creating Amongst Us? Was there any realization or advice that helped you overcome those difficulties?

My biggest fear is always in relatability because it’s a difference between me and the reader that I do not and cannot have a solution for because it involves another person. In such a relatable genre as slice of life/comedy/romance, where the readers have more experience and therefore more varied but stronger expectations of a version of life that is relatable to them, I know that even if somehow I become a master writer, I still would not be able [to] say whether I could story that others would get or would be interested in, especially because I am aware I am an oddball when it comes to how I think, how I live, and what I value. What helped me the most was simply seeing that there were readers who did enjoy the stories for what it was, and reminding myself that I’m telling the stories to find those who might enjoy it, not to avoid those who might not. It’s a different perspective, rather than a solution, so the worry constantly resurfaces, but I hope it becomes easier over time as I am proven wrong more often!

Amongst Us readers have gotten to see Veloce and Blackbird as an established couple, and now we are witnessing flashbacks to how they first met. Where do you hope to take the series in the future?

I intend to tell both of these timelines concurrently, so as the couple timeline ended at episode 20, I intend to end the flashback at around episode 40, and then switch again at episode 60, and so on. While this kills the momentum for each arc, I made AU so that I can have the cake and eat it too--I want both their back story and a happy ending at the same time without having to wait 10-20 years for it, like I do with Carciphona’s plot haha!

What is one dream or aspiration you would like to accomplish? Even if it is unrealistic.

My only dream right now is just to finish both Carciphona and AU before my time’s up! Funny how unrealistic is specified, it made me realize that I rarely consider unrealistic dreams/aspirations as worth thinking about as they are unlikely to happen when there are so many other things I want to do that are actually possible. Most of my unrealistic dreams actually revolve around music, a profession I had left behind with an aching heart. I dream to play a concerto with an orchestra someday, or even learn to conduct, but for now, drawing my dreams out feels enjoyable and fulfilling enough a compromise!

What advice do you have for people wanting to create artwork and comics?

The true challenge these days I feel like is rarely in the work itself; there are so many readily available free resources that anyone who is capable of working hard and thinking critically will sooner or later be able to master skills they acquire to some degree. What is truly challenging is finding, and then accepting, what paths work for you. Someone might find great joy in working in a studio with a group on something big, while someone else might only enjoy drawing what they feel. Both, in this current climate, will be compelled to adhere to the standards of drawing what others want to see in order to gain recognition and financial stability, one will thrive, one will not. 

I think the most important thing to keep in mind is understanding what you want out of drawing/creating, and why. Understanding yourself is often not as straight-forward as it may seem, everyone has different circumstances that subtly motivates them to sometimes misdirect energy and misinterpret what it is they truly want. Some people need to be understood, some people want an excuse to execute, and some people want fame, money, recognition, validation. Whatever it is, and all valid, understanding and accepting your own motivations to create can tremendously help you find the path forward that is suitable for you, not anyone else, even if it might mean following an impractical path that no one else recommends.

Finally, after the release of the first Amongst Us book, what is next for you? Anything special your fans can look forward to?

My game plan through the decades has always been to just keep going. I did choose long-form projects such as the comics that I draw, and the best thing I can do is to just keep it up and reach those exciting points of the story that I’ve always worked towards, no matter how uneventful that may make my work routine sound. However, I do have a little side thing with a(nother) recurring theme that I’ve been doing here and there for fun whenever I had time, people who keep up with my social media art posts may have noticed. If I ever accumulate enough material, maybe there will be some bonus snacks for my readers on the horizon!

Read Carciphona and Amongst Us online now and be sure to support the physical release on Amongst Us book 1 on Kickstarter today. Also, be sure to follow Shilin on Twitter @Okolnir.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

EP: Siren Queen

masterlist

Premise: Y/N L/N is a part of the world's biggest girl group. A stalker starts harassing her and her band mates so their label calls in the BAU. 

The case was weird for the BAU. It was a stalker case for a famous girl, Y/N L/N, she was part of the worlds most successful girl group. Garcia was all too excited to be involved in the case. Of course, she hated that you were being stalked but she was a huge fan. 

“You better tell me everything!” She squealed, “If she’s nice, if she’s as hot as she is on camera, if the other girls are nice, if they are ‘just like us’ please!” 

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were the stalker, Garcia.” JJ joked.

“If someone hurts that ray of sunshine I will stalk them!” She shouted through the video call and then hung up. 

JJ flipped through the file, “we have five days to catch this guy before they go on tour. And the girls are refusing to cancel.” “Even if their lives are at stake?” 

“They said that they will not cancel because it’s the opening to their world tour and they won’t risk disappointing fans because they know people are flying in from all over the country.” Prentiss explained. 

“Shouldn’t the label put the girls first?” Morgan asked. 

“Usually labels tend not to care about artists.” Reid said, “the amount of label abuse that’s been coming to light is horrific you guys should read up on it.” 

He looked up as everyone looked at him confused, he explained, “Simon Cowell for example, there are claims against him because of abuse towards clients. Overworking them, homophobic comments, racist comments, sexist comments you name it.”

“What groups?” JJ asked. 

“Little Mix and One Direction are the two most prominent ones.” Reid said flicking through the file. 

“How do you know all this?” “Garcia.” He answered. “Then I did my own research because I was fascinated by the music industry. It never hurts to learn even if I don’t know anything about it.” 

The team left it at that, and continued digging through the evidence of your stalker. 

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

The team was currently sitting in one of the rehearsal rooms. There were couches, a snack bar, a coffee stand, everything except the girls they were meeting. 

Their publicist Ramona looked at them all apologetically, “I’m so sorry, the girls seem to be in traffic. They’re with trusted drivers and security guards.” 

“Have they been background checked?” Hotch asked. 

Ramona nodded, “we all were when we were taken on, we were when this stalker showed up as well. The dancers, the crew, everybody those girls come into contact with are background checked.” 

“Even interviewers?” Reid asked. Ramona nodded, “without their knowledge, just like you advised. If this got leaked…” Ramona shook her head, “we all know what happens to victims of stalkers, it isn’t foreign in this business.” 

At that moment the girls all came in, Emily recognized them from the files. Apparently, even your bandmates got checked. Zoey came in first, snuggled in her hoodie, her jeans were rumpled and her heels were clacking. Her smile falling off her face the second she walked into the room. Her blonde hair was tousled as if she was running her hands through it a lot. Her green eyes were tired.

Leaning on her was Brooke, who was also looking exhausted. Ramona told them that they had been up since 4 am doing press, it was now 4pm. They had a two hour rehearsal next, then dinner, then vocal rehearsal, then they could go to their hotel. Apparently it was an easy day for them. Brooke's black hair was in it’s natural curls, she wore heels as well as a dress. 

The two were holding hands. 

Then came in Liz, she was wearing a black long sleeve shirt, shorts and a beanie as well as heeled boots. She didn’t look as tired, she looked fiercely protective as she was holding your hand. 

You looked anxious, you were also in a hoodie, jeans and heeled boots, all black. Your eyes were darting around the room as you took in everyone around you. Your eyes startled when they landed on Emily, Emily wasn’t sure why. 

Ramona introduced all of them to the girls then said “Sit down girls.” 

Three of them did, you had other ideas and went and got coffee. “Y/N, that’s your fourth cup.” 

You held up a finger, “I don’t want to hear it, Ramona. I have a stalker out there and I have to act like everythings normal, if Marcus has a problem with it, he can suck my dick.” 

Morgan looked at Emily with wide eyes. Emily shrugged. Then looked at Reid, “who’s Marcus?”  She asked him. 

“Their choreographer.” “Why does it matter what he says?” 

“Because he cares about us and is a fitness nut.” You answered, “you’re not very good at whispering.” You deadpanned, sipping your coffee. 

“Y/N!” Ramona scolded. 

You rolled your eyes, and Zoey spoke up, “give her a break Ramona. She never gives you issues, let her live.” 

“It’s okay,” Emily spoke up, “I understand what it’s like to be afraid of looking over your shoulder.”

You nodded, avoiding eye contact. You felt guilty for snapping, that much she could tell. 

“Okay, let’s get started.” Hotch said, “do you have any particular fans you’d like to tell us about, people have stood out?” 

“We have a lot of...dedicated fans.” Zoey said, to put it gently. “Some good, some bad, some that are really intense.” 

You scoffed from where you were standing, “that's putting it lightly.” You grabbed a mini chocolate chip cookie.. 

“Do girl groups have groupies?” Morgan asked. 

“Of course we do,” Liz said, her tan cheeks gaining a rosy color. You sat in between her and Zoey, Brooke was next to Zoey. You had three other cookies in your hand and handed them to the others. 

“We recognize the line between fans and stalkers as well as people who don't agree with who we are. But there’s been nothing like this.”  Brooke shuddered.

“Don’t agree with who you are?” JJ asked. 

You held up a hand, “queer.” 

Brooke raised her hand, “black.” 

Liz raised hers, “philipino and black. So mixed race.” 

Then Zoey raised hers as well, “I’m ‘too skinny’ so everyone thinks I have an eating disorder.” 

You piped up, “I’ve also been fat shamed by the worlds biggest media outlets, it’s nothing new to find hate online.” 

Emily grimaced and she knew her team was doing the exact same thing. 

“Do you have any ideas as to who it could be?” Rossi asked.

“There’s one,” Zoey said, “but Y/N insists it can’t be him.” 

“You need to tell us.” Emily said, everyone looked at you. 

You sighed, “he went to jail when we were teens for sexual misconduct. I was the first person he assaulted and harassed consistently. But I didn’t press charges.” “Why not?” Morgan asked. 

“Because I was a fourteen year old girl who didn’t recognize that it was sexual assault.” You snapped, then sighed, “I’m sorry Agent Morgan. It’s touchy.” Zoey took your hand, Liz took your other one, Brooke reached over and put her hand on top of Zoeys. “To be honest, I don’t know where I would be without these three.” You admitted. Emily admired it, the sisterhood between you four. 

“How long have you guys been friends?” JJ asked. 

“We met in high school, then formed the band.” Brooke answered. 

 “Do you know if he’s out?” 

You sighed, “he is. But he lacks the brain cells to pull this stuff off.”

“It’s not that hard to mail letters.” JJ said. 

“Yeah but, he shouldn’t know the exact times we show up at venues, interviews, he isn’t smart enough to think of how to obtain that information. As kids he was not smart, at all.” You said, letting go of your friends’ hands and you started rubbing your hands on your jeans. 

Emily noticed how all of them kept their hands on you, as a way of comfort. 

“Unless he was following the bus,” Zoey said.

“He’s too lazy.” You said, “never had energy for thorough shit.” 

“What’s his name? We’re gonna send it to our technical analyst.” Morgan said. 

You nodded and spoke the name you’ve feared for far too long. “Peter Brady, he was born in my home state

“Okay,” Hotch started, “I want all of you to be shadowing the girls, they are not to be left alone, we don’t know how organized this guy is and what he knows.” He looked at Rossi, “we’ll contact Garcia and run through possible people. Do you have anywhere to set up?” 

Ramona began directing them to rooms, then told all of you to get changed and do rehearsals for the tour. 

JJ and Reid sat in during the rehearsals, meanwhile Emily and Morgan helped Hotch and Rossi with going through all the names that Garcia flagged as potentially dangerous. 

Two hours later, Emily was eating dinner, she was planning to eat alone, but then she found you. You were sitting on the floor backstage, by a bunch of wires and such eating your pizza. You were alone. 

“Hey,” Emily said.

“Hi, did Ramona send you because I’m alone?” You asked, smiling slightly. 

“No,” Emily said sitting next to you, “I can recognize when someone needs someone to talk to. Where are your friends?”

“They’re talking to their partners, I insisted they do. They haven’t been the past couple of nights because of all this. Part of being….’famous’ is that you have to leave your loved ones for long periods of time.” “My field is the same way. I don’t see my mom more than twice a year.” 

You shuddered, “I can barely handle not seeing my mom as much as I used to before ‘fame’. I can’t imagine it in your shoes.” You sighed. 

Emily popped open her salad box, “do you mind if I eat with you?” She smiled.

And she smiled wider when you smiled back, “feel free. By the way, I’m sorry about snapping at you. It’s been rough.” 

“I know how you feel.” Emily would tell you about Doyle if it helped you open up more about this guy.

“Have you been stalked?” 

Emily nodded, “by an abusive ex.” Was all she said. 

You grimaced, “so we’ve gone through similar things.” “Was this guy an ex?” You shook your head, “we were thirteen and fourteen, as kids navigating those feelings can be hard. I’d say we were close to dating then he...he pushed too far. I wasn’t raped, but he touched me inappropriately, then harassed me over text. Then continued for three years, he’s been silent ever since and now all of a sudden 12 years later he’s back.” You laughed bitterly, “and I have no doubts he’s done things to other women. Do you think because I didn’t report, it’s my fault that this is happening? And he’s most likely doing this to other women?” You asked her.

Emily shook her head, “It’s not your fault Y/N, it never will be. He’s a sick creep, and we’re gonna get him.” She assured you. “Can we talk about something else?” You asked. 

“Sure.” Emily smiled.

You felt your heart stutter. 

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

Over the next few days, you and Emily had fallen into a routine. 

You ate all your meals together. Breakfast at 6am in the hotel lobby, lunch in the dance rehearsal room, dinner in the backstage area. 

Of course, your friends teased you relentlessly. And her team teased her relentlessly. 

But you two didn’t care, you found solitude in each other's company, considering both of your worlds were hectic and crazy. 

You two were eating chicken tenders for lunch before vocal and dance rehearsal in the dance room when Marcus walked in, “hey, some fanmail was left for you.” He handed you a blue box. 

“I’m surprised you can bring it to me.” You said grabbing it. 

“It went through security first.”

That was a good sign, you opened it and saw a diamond necklace, “holy shit.” You murmured, it was stunning and sparkly. 

Emily thought it described you personally. 

You took it out of the box and set the box on the ground. Emily saw a tag in the box. She grabbed it. She pulled it and it revealed a bigger note. She picked it up and read it. 

“Y/N….” Emily started. 

“What?” You asked, scared. 

Emily cleared her throat, “for you my love, it matches your smile. Remember that night under the stars at that restaurant our parents took us to as kids? It’s one of my fondest memories.” You dropped the necklace as if it had burned you. 

It had. 

It clattered against the floor, you shot off the ground. “Get it away from me! Get the box away from me! Get it all away!” You started crying. “No, no, no, no.” 

“Go get my team, now!” She ordered Marcus who ran off with his concern and protectiveness in his eyes. 

She approached you, “can I touch you?” She asked. 

You fell into her arms, “he found me. He actually fucking found a way to torment me. After all these years, I can’t. I can’t. I can’t. Please don’t let him get me.” You sobbed into her arms. 

She looked at the diamonds on the ground, the sparkling contrasted against the dull gray floor, she stroked your hair as she said, “I won’t, he will never touch you again.” 

And she would die to ensure that that promise was kept. 

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

Two hours later, you were in vocal rehearsals. You had to do questioning as well as calm down from your panic attack. 

You would only allow Emily near you. 

You two walked side by side to vocal rehearsals, the girls immediately rushed to hug you. Emily stepped back as the three of them hugged you. It was a huge group hug. 

“Oh sweetheart.” Brooke said and kissed your head. “Baby, we tried to get in there but they wouldn’t let us.” Zoey said, “I almost kicked that damn door down but Ramona pulled me away.” 

“We got you, that bastard isn’t going anywhere near you,” Liz declared. 

Emily heard a sniffle from you, and the girls all “aww’d.” 

“Babyyy.” Liz cooed as they all held you tighter. 

After about three minutes of you trying to calm down, you four separated, all of you were wiping your eyes. “God, we really do feed off each other huh?” You tried to lighten the mood. They all smiled, trying to keep the light mood going. 

They all said hi to Emily, then headed towards a couch. You four then sat down and began singing.

Okay, she had heard your records, after all your band was one of the biggest bands in the world, the biggest girl group. 

But God, she did not expect you to not have an auto-tuned voice. None of you do. All four of you have amazing voices but yours…

It was rich like dark chocolate, she wanted to hear you sing all. the. time. It was like a siren, captivating and lustful. You were calm while singing, nobody would know that your stalker had just dropped off a box with diamonds in it two hours ago. 

Then to make you laugh Zoey broke out with an off key note and made you burst out laughing. 

That laugh warmed Emily, she realized how much she loved your company and what she would do to make you laugh like that at her. 

Oh God, she was falling for you. And she was falling hard.

Shit.

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

Two hours before the show was supposed to go on, they caught him. 

He was staking out before the show, Garcia had his picture sent to all the guards and they found him. 

Everyone else went to question him, while Emily stayed with you. It was a few minutes before showtime, makeup artists and hair stylists were doing final touches. As well as the stylists. 

“Twitters blowing up.” Ramona said from her chair.

“About?” You asked, jumping to shake the nerves.

“The guy who got arrested in front of the venue.” 

You looked at Emily, “dear god.” 

“JJ will handle it.” She assured you all.

“Good.” Zoey said. 

You nodded to a corner at Emily, she nodded and followed you over. “I just wanna say, thank you for helping me and spending time with me. I know it’s your job but,” you sighed, “if you’d allow me, I’d like to take you out on a date when we have a show in DC. We’re staying for a couple days doing press and I’d like to go out on a date with you, if you’d like?” Emily smiled and blushed hard, “I would be honored, Y/N.” 

The smile you had could light up the night sky, “thank you, Emily. You won’t regret it.” 

“Ramona called, “Y/N! Show time!” 

“One sec!” Then shoved a piece of paper into her hand, “I hope to hear from you.” Then you kissed her cheek and ran off to stage. 

She opened the piece of paper, “to my hero, I hope to hear from you.” Then underneath was your number. 

She sighed happily, then went to find her seat in the stadium so she could watch her siren queen perform.