#so nice of everyone in the trial to not be standing in the way ty and sorry for pausing my rotation for 3 seconds

[jaeyunluvbot]

ilysm (i love you spider-man)

genre/tags 𝟅𝟈 mark lee x fem!reader, spidermark, friends to lovers, high school au, spiderman!mark

word count 𝟅𝟈 11.2k

NOT PROOFREAD

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

High school wasn’t glamorous. It was 6:00 a.m. alarms, piles of homework, and gym class—a.k.a. your least favorite subject. So, when Coach called for volleyball that day, you sighed and shuffled towards the court like a prisoner headed for trial.

The gym smelled faintly of sweat and old rubber soles, the harsh lights making it hard to focus. You stood by the bleachers, tying your sneakers when Mark stumbled in, late as usual. His hair stuck up in odd places like he’d rolled out of bed and made a mad dash here. Classic.

“Lee!” Coach barked, tossing him a red jersey. “You’re on Team B. Let’s go!”

Mark jogged over, muttering apologies as he passed you. “Hey,” he said with a sheepish grin, his voice slightly breathless.

“Hey,” you replied, amused. “Rough morning?”

“You have no idea,” he mumbled, pulling the jersey over his head.

Mark was… Mark. Sweet, funny, always a little awkward. You’d known him since middle school, and while he wasn’t exactly the athletic type, you’d never really cared. You’d bonded over you bonded over your mutual interests, anyways, and volleyball was not on the list.

The game started, and you hung back like always, hoping to avoid the ball as much as possible. Mark, however, was front and center.

When the ball came his way, you winced, expecting it to bounce off his face or fly past him entirely. But instead, Mark jumped—higher than seemed possible—and spiked the ball with enough force to make it slam into the court.

Your jaw dropped.

“Whoa!” someone yelled.

Even Coach looked impressed. “Nice hit, Lee! Where’d you learn that?”

Mark shrugged, his face slightly flushed. “Lucky shot.”

As the game went on, Mark’s “luck” didn’t run out. He dove to the floor to save a ball, slid across the court with the grace of a pro, and even managed to block a spike that seemed way out of reach.

By the time the game ended, the entire class was buzzing.

“Did Mark join a secret volleyball league or something?”

You couldn’t help but grin, though your curiosity was starting to bubble over. Since when could he do any of this?

During a break, you found him leaning against the wall, gulping down water like he’d just run a marathon.

“Since when did you play volleyball like that?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow.

He nearly choked, coughing and spluttering as his face turned red. “I—uh, I’ve been practicing?”

“Practicing?” you echoed, unimpressed. “Mark, the last time we played volleyball, you tripped over the net and nearly took me down with you.”

He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, well… things change?”

You squinted at him, unconvinced. There was something different about him lately—something you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Before you could press him further, Coach’s whistle blew, calling everyone back to the court. Mark shot you a quick smile before jogging off, leaving you standing there, your curiosity growing by the second.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

As the day went on, you started noticing more little things about him. In English class, he caught a pen mid-air without even looking, like he had eyes in the back of his head.

“Nice reflexes, Spidey,” you joked, nudging him.

Mark laughed nervously, shoving the pen into his bag. “Just got lucky,” he said quickly, avoiding your gaze.

Then, in chemistry, he managed to grab a beaker you almost knocked off the table before it shattered on the floor. His hand shot out so fast you barely saw it.

“Whoa,” you said, staring at him. “How’d you do that?”

Mark shrugged, his cheeks turning red. “I dunno, instincts?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could say anything, the teacher called for everyone’s attention.

By lunchtime, you were keeping a closer eye on him, trying to figure out what was going on. He seemed more jittery than usual, like he was trying to avoid drawing attention to himself but failing miserably.

When someone dropped their tray in the cafeteria, sending food flying, Mark’s head snapped toward the commotion before anyone else had even noticed. He looked like he was about to jump out of his seat before he caught himself and forced a laugh.

“You good?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, totally,” he said, shoving a fry into his mouth. “Just… startled, that’s all.”

You didn’t believe him for a second, but you let it slide. For now.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of classes, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different about Mark. He’d clearly changed somehow, but you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly was different.

And as much as you wanted to ignore it, you couldn’t help but wonder: what was he hiding?

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Your parents had been asleep for hours by the time Mark came over that night. It was one of those quiet, lazy Friday nights where the two of you didn’t need to talk much. Just snacks, a couple of blankets, and a well-worn stack of DVDs.

You weren’t supposed to have people over this late—especially not boys—but it was Mark. If your parents knew it was him, they’d probably be fine with it. Still, sneaking him in through your fire escape gave the night a little thrill.

The two of you were huddled on your bed, knees bumping each other as the movie played on the TV. It was some action flick Mark had picked out, but your attention was divided between the screen and him. He looked more relaxed now than he had at school, though every now and then, you caught him glancing toward the door, like he was expecting someone to barge in.

“You good?” you asked softly, nudging him with your elbow.

“Huh? Yeah, totally,” he said, flashing you a sheepish grin. “Just… didn’t expect him to survive that fall.”

You laughed quietly, shaking your head. “It’s a superhero movie, Mark. No one ever dies unless it’s to make the hero angsty.”

He chuckled at that, leaning back into the couch. “Fair point.”

As the movie went on, the two of you started whispering back and forth, your voices barely louder than the hum of the TV.

“Okay, that was so fake,” you said, gesturing at the screen as the hero miraculously dodged a bullet.

Mark smirked. “You’re telling me this is where you draw the line?”

“I have standards!”

He shook his head, stifling a laugh, when suddenly his posture stiffened. His head tilted slightly, and his hand reached out, brushing your arm.

“Hey,” he whispered, his tone urgent. “Be quiet for a second.”

You blinked at him, confused. “What?”

“Shh,” he insisted, sitting up straighter. His eyes darted toward the hallway, and he moved to hide on the ground next to the bed, out of view of your doorway.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, a little too loudly.

Before he could answer, the door creaked open, and your mom peeked in, her expression equal parts annoyed and groggy.

“Y/N,” she said, crossing her arms. “It’s almost midnight. Keep it down, okay?”

Your eyes went wide. “Oh! Sorry, Mom. I’ll quiet down.”

She lingered for a moment, her gaze sweeping the room. You held your breath, praying she wouldn’t notice the second pair of sneakers tucked gently away next to your your bedside table. Thankfully, she just nodded and shuffled back down the hallway.

The second the coast was clear, you turned to Mark, your heart still racing.

“How the hell did you know she was coming?” you hissed, keeping your voice low this time.

Mark scratched the back of his neck, avoiding your eyes. “I, uh… I just… I don’t know, I guess I heard her footsteps?”

“Footsteps?” you repeated, narrowing your eyes at him. “Mark, I didn’t hear anything. How did you hear her through a closed door? And while we were talking, no less?”

He let out a nervous laugh, shrugging a little too casually. “Maybe I’ve just got good ears?”

“Good ears my ass,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “You’ve been weird all day. First in gym, then in class, and now this. What’s going on with you?”

Mark froze for a second, his expression flickering between panic and guilt. “Nothing! I swear, it’s—nothing. You’re imagining things.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, okay” you said sarcastically, not realizing how close you were to the truth.

Mark’s laugh came out a little too forced this time. “Anyways, we should probably finish the movie, it’s getting late.”

You didn’t push the issue—for now. But as the movie played on, you couldn’t help but glance at him, your curiosity growing stronger with every passing minute.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

After your slightly strange movie night, everything feels... normal. You’re at school with Mark again, cracking jokes about your teachers and helping each other survive the monotony of class. 

After school, you walk home together as usual. Mark’s quiet, more so than usual, and you figure he’s just tired. He always seems tired these days.

"Are you okay?" you ask, nudging his arm.

He flinches slightly, then forces a smile. "Yeah, I’m good. Just didn’t sleep well last night."

You nod, though his answer doesn’t quite satisfy you.

Later that evening, you decide to take a quick walk to clear your head. The streets are quiet, the orange glow of the streetlights casting long shadows. You’re only a few blocks from your apartment when you hear shouting—a man yelling for help. Your heart pounds as you turn the corner and see a masked figure—Spider-Man—swinging into action.

It’s like watching a movie come to life. He moves with incredible speed and grace, disarming the attacker in seconds. The victim stumbles to safety, and Spider-Man barely pauses before disappearing into the night.

You stand frozen, your mind racing. Spider-Man isn’t supposed to be real—not in your world, not in your life. And yet, here he is, saving people in your neighborhood.

When you finally make it home, Mark texts you almost immediately:

Hey, you okay?

The timing feels weirdly coincidental.

Yeah... just saw something crazy on my walk. Spider-Man.

There’s a pause before he replies.

Mark: Whoa, no way. He’s around here?

You: Guess so. It was... surreal.

Mark: Sounds scary. You’re sure you’re okay?

Something about the way he asks makes you hesitate. He sounds so concerned, almost like he’s talking to himself.

You: Yeah. Are YOU okay?

Mark: Me? Of course. Just checking on you. I saw your location said you were outside.

You chastise yourself for not remembering he had your location. You’d have probably done the same thing if his location said he was outside in the middle of the night. Though, you’d never had the habit of checking his.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Saturday nights are sacred.

Since middle school, you and Mark have had this unspoken rule: no matter what, Saturday nights are yours. Whether it’s binging your favorite show, building Legos, or debating which movie series is superior, it’s the highlight of your week.

You’ve been looking forward to tonight all day. After tossing a blanket over the couch and setting out snacks—chips for you, candy for him—you settle in, phone in hand, waiting for Mark’s familiar knock.

He’s usually punctual, arriving right when he says he will. But tonight, the minutes stretch into an hour, and he’s still not there.

You glance at your phone. No texts, no missed calls.

You: Where are you? I’m starting to think you forgot about me.

No response.

You frown but try not to overthink it. Maybe he got caught up with something. You wait another fifteen minutes, then send another text.

You: Mark?? You better not be ditching me for one of your dumb guy friends.

Still nothing. Anxiety begins to creep in, though you try to push it aside. He’s probably just running late.

An hour later, you’ve run out of chips and excuses for his absence.

You: I’m officially mad at you.

By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve all but given up. You leave one last text before tossing your phone onto the coffee table.

You: Hope you’re okay. Call me when you see this.

Sleep doesn’t come easily that night. Your mind races with possibilities—some silly, some serious. Is he okay? Did something happen? You brush them off as anxious thoughts running wild and try to fall asleep.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

The next morning, your phone buzzes with a message from Mark.

Mark: I’m so sorry, Y/N. I got sick out of nowhere last night. Took some medicine and completely passed out. I didn’t even see your texts until now.

You exhale, relieved but annoyed.

You: SICK? You ditched me because you were sick? I’m so offended.

Mark: I’m sorryyyyy. 😭 I’ll make it up to you, I swear.

You: You better be glad I didn’t watch our show without you.

Mark: You wouldn’t dare.

You: Guess you’ll never know. 

His usual playfulness makes you smile, but the knot in your chest hasn’t completely loosened. You know it’s dumb, but a small part of you wonders if there’s more to the story. Mark never misses your hangouts. You’re always the first to know if something’s wrong. And as much as you want to believe his excuse, the insecurity that’s been gnawing at you for years whispers otherwise.

He’s your only real friend, and deep down, you’re terrified of losing him. You’re terrified that one day he’ll outgrow you, that he’ll find someone cooler, funnier, or just... better.

You shake your head, trying to push the thoughts away. Mark said he was sick, and you believe him. There’s no reason to think otherwise. But as you put your phone down and get ready for the day, you can’t help but feel like something isn’t adding up.

You stare at your phone, willing it to buzz with a new message from Mark, but it stays silent. You’ve already texted him a few times this afternoon, and while he usually responds by now, today it’s been almost two hours since your last message. Your thumb hovers over your screen, ready to send something, but you stop yourself. Maybe he’s busy. It’s fine. It’s not like you need him to text you back right away, right?

But you can’t shake the growing discomfort in your chest.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Ever since his message about getting sick a few weeks ago, he’s been a little off. Sure, he’d apologized for missing your hangout, but now, it’s like nothing has changed. During the day, he’s the same—always goofy, friendly, and acting normal when you see him at school. But by the time night falls, he’s almost always gone—his responses slow, often one-word answers, and sometimes, he doesn’t respond at all. And this has gone on for almost a month now.

The more time passes, the more you can’t help but feel like he’s distancing himself from you, like you’ve somehow become a burden on him. You try to tell yourself you’re overthinking it. He’s probably just busy, right? But deep down, there’s a voice whispering that maybe he’s just getting tired of you. You wish you could ignore it, but the insecurity festers, eating away at your confidence with every minute he doesn’t reply.

By the time midnight rolls around, you’ve already sent him two more texts, no response. You try to sleep, but your mind is spinning. Is he with someone else? You hate that thought, but it keeps creeping in. Maybe he’s found new people to hang out with. Maybe he doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

You throw your phone aside, frustrated with yourself, with him, and with the situation. Why do I care so much? You’ve never been the type to need constant validation from someone else, but with Mark? It’s different. You’ve always been there for each other, always shared your time. You didn’t need anything more from him, but now… it feels like you’re losing him.

Then, you get a message.

It's from Mark. Your heart jumps into your throat as you open it. “Hey, sorry. I got totally wrapped up in homework, we still on for tomorrow?”

You read it over and over, but something feels off. It’s a good excuse—too good, maybe. You want to believe him, but part of you wonders if he’s just avoiding you now. He was so there for you, always texting and hanging out after school. But now? It feels like he’s just gone, like a ghost. You don’t know what to believe.

“Can’t, sorry. I have plans with Giselle.”

There’s a pause before his reply comes through. You can almost hear the indifference in his words, even though you know you’re probably reading into it too much.

“Ah, alright. Have fun.”

The message feels too short, too casual. You frown at your phone, biting your lip. The nagging feeling in your chest grows stronger. Has he really just become that indifferent?

You text him back quickly, trying to keep things light, trying to ignore the hurt that lingers in your words. “Yeah sorry, we’ll definitely hang out later this week though, haha.”

But even as you send the message, a part of you wonders if this week is going to be just like the last—another week of him acting normal at school, you trying to text him all night, waiting for responses that don’t come, waiting for a friendship that doesn’t feel the same anymore.

You let out a sigh, toss your phone aside, and climb into bed, your angsty playlist drifting through your ears as you struggle to sleep.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

The bass from the music thumps through your chest as you step into the crowded living room. The lights are dim, the room filled with a haze of colored neon and swirling bodies moving to the rhythm. It’s your first real party in a long time, and the unfamiliar atmosphere is slightly overwhelming. You spot Giselle across the room, her blonde hair shining under the strobe lights as she waves you over.

You smile, grateful for her invitation. The group of people she’s hanging with seems friendly enough, laughing and chatting as they pass drinks around. Giselle introduces you to a few of her friends, and you slip into the crowd easily enough, trying to shake off the tension that’s been building in you ever since Mark stopped replying to your texts.

You’ve been pushing it down all night, focusing on the fun of the party, but it’s hard to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of your mind. Is he really busy with homework? Or is he avoiding me? You try not to dwell on it. After all, he’s always been a little unpredictable—he’s probably just caught up with his own stuff.

As the night wears on, you find yourself getting along with Giselle’s friends. You chat with a girl named Ningning who shares a class with you, and you laugh at her sarcastic humor. It’s nice. It feels good to be out and talking with people who aren’t just classmates or distant acquaintances. But still, in the back of your mind, you’re aware of the emptiness Mark’s absence has left. Every few minutes, you glance at your phone, hoping to see a message from him, but there’s nothing.

You tell yourself it’s fine—he’s just busy. But every time you check, you feel a little more disappointed. 

The music pulses louder, and you take a deep breath, shaking off the thoughts of your best friend. Giselle is pulling you toward the makeshift dance floor, laughing as she drags you into the crowd. You let yourself get swept up in the fun for a while, your body moving to the beat, the drinks in your system giving you a comfortable, carefree buzz.

You laugh, enjoy yourself, and even manage to pull out a few impressive dance moves—at least according to Giselle, who’s cheering you on. The night seems to go by in a blur of music and people, the few drinks you’d had adding to the fuzziness of the night’s events.

But as the night winds down, you find yourself standing near the door, chatting with Ningning again. You glance down at your phone for what feels like the hundredth time, a little embarrassed that you’re still hoping for a text from him.

You frown when you see the time: it’s late, and you still haven’t heard from him. You were starting to wonder if you should text him, maybe check in, when Giselle appears beside you. “Hey, you okay?” she asks, her eyes narrowing with a knowing look. You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just... thinking about stuff,” you say vaguely, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

She nods. “You know, it’s okay to have fun without him. Sometimes you gotta do your own thing, right?”

You nod along, but her words hit deeper than she probably intended. Why does it feel like I can’t? you think, but you don’t say it out loud. Instead, you force another smile. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Giselle offers to drive you home, but you shake your head. “I think I’ll walk. Get some fresh air. Plus, I’ve got pepper spray, just in case,” you joke, trying to ease the mood.

She laughs, but her eyes linger on you for a moment. “Alright, take care of yourself, okay?”

You wave her off as she heads toward the car with her friends. You linger by the door for a moment, a small hesitation gnawing at you, but then you push it aside. Walking will help clear your head.

As you step out into the cool night air, the city streets are alive with the usual hum of late-night activity. There’s a slight chill to the breeze, but you don’t mind it. You wrap your jacket tighter around your shoulders, feeling the effects of the alcohol beginning to wear off as the cold air helps sober you up. The walk is quiet, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can breathe a little easier.

But even though the night is peaceful, your mind still drifts back to Mark. His silence feels like an anchor in your chest, something heavy and uncertain, and as you walk, you can’t stop wondering what’s going on. You’ve spent every Saturday night together for as long as you can remember. And now... now he’s just disappearing.

You try to shake off the feeling, telling yourself it's nothing. Maybe you’re just overthinking. Again. But the more you walk, the more your thoughts spiral, until you hear the footsteps behind you.

Before you can even react, a hand grabs your wrist, spinning you around so quickly that your heart jumps into your throat. Your breath catches in your chest, and for a split second, you can’t even process what’s happening. The streetlights cast long shadows on the sidewalk, and for a brief, terrifying moment, you can’t make out the guy’s face. All you feel is the cold, tight grip on your wrist.

Your heart starts pounding in your chest, panic surging through you. You try to pull away, but his hand tightens, and a sickening, familiar feeling spreads through you.

"Hey! Let go of me!" you shout, your voice shaking.

“Quiet, bitch,” the man growls, his breath hot against your neck. You struggle, but his grip tightens, and your pulse quickens.

Just as the fear begins to settle over you, you hear a soft whoosh, followed by a thud that’s too heavy to be anything but a person.

Without warning, the man’s grip on you loosens, and before you can even react, you're yanked off the ground and pulled up a nearby fire escape ladder, higher and higher until you’re standing on a rooftop. Your heart pounds in your chest as you try to steady your breath. You glance around, completely disoriented, when the voice of the masker figure breaks the silence. 

You let out a breath, in awe of the Spiderman being right in front of you.

But before you can say anything, he speaks.

“Stay here,” he orders, his tone sharp as he drops you onto a crate by the edge of the roof. “I’ll handle it. Don’t move.”

You don’t even have time to ask him what’s going on before he’s gone, leaving you sitting there alone in the dark, your mind spinning. What the hell just happened? Is this... real? You glance around, still trying to process the fact that Spiderman—the very same guy you’d heard about in the news, the one everyone in the city seems to talk about—just saved you from some creep.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the sound of struggle below, muffled voices, and a distant thud as Spiderman confronts the man you were just seconds away from being attacked by. It’s all over within moments, and before you can fully grasp the situation, Spiderman returns, landing effortlessly on the roof beside you.

He glances at you, his mask giving nothing away, but you notice the way his chest rises and falls a little too fast for someone who should be used to fighting.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer now. You nod quickly, trying to push the terror away.

“Yeah,” you reply, swallowing hard. “Thanks for saving me.”

A long silence stretches between you before you, almost hesitantly, ask, “Did... did you... kill him?”

The question comes out before you can think better of it, but the moment you say it, his head whips toward you in complete shock.

“What?!” he exclaims, his voice full of disbelief. “No! I—no, I didn’t kill him! I just... I knocked him out. I’m not... I don’t... that’s not what I do.”

You blink, surprised at how horrified he sounds. Maybe you’ve underestimated him.

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling sheepish. “Sorry, I... I don’t know how these things work.”

Spiderman’s shoulders visibly relax, and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s fine. Just... just stay safe, okay? I’ll get you home.”

You nod, your heart still beating erratically in your chest. Part of you is still processing everything, but another part of you is grateful. Grateful for Spiderman being here tonight, for protecting you when no one else would have been able to.

“Um, thank you again,” you say, your voice softer this time.

His eyes behind the mask seem to soften, but you’re not sure. “I can take you home,” he offers, voice low, almost too gentle, slightly familiar but you’re unable to place exactly where you’d heard it before.

You blink up at him, still in shock, and then remember where you are. “I’m almost home… I can walk the rest of the way.”

But the more you think about it, the more you realize you really don’t want to walk. Not after what just happened. Plus, his presence feels safe in a way you can’t explain.

Spiderman seems to notice the hesitation in your expression, and before you can change your mind, he’s already swooping down, his webbing attaching to a nearby building. “Hold on tight.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you barely process his words. Before you can question how he knows where you live, he shoots another web, pulling you along with him. Your feet leave the ground, and you’re soaring through the city. The wind rushes against your face, and everything is a blur of lights and rooftops.

The whole trip is a disorienting whirl, but it’s somehow comforting in its chaos. Spiderman moves like he’s done this a thousand times, his grip tight around your waist as he swings from one building to the next. The world below you is a distant hum, but your thoughts are still clouded with questions.

And then, as quickly as it began, you find yourself standing on the fire escape of your apartment building. Your legs are a little shaky, but it doesn’t matter. You’re safe.

“Here we are,” he says, glancing up at your window.

You stare at him, still slightly tipsy from the night’s events, but not questioning how he knows where you live. After all, it’s just one of those things that doesn’t make sense, and you don’t really care. All that matters is that you’re safe now.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, feeling oddly vulnerable under his watchful gaze.

He nods again, his hand slipping back to his side as he stands a little straighter. “Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t walk alone at night again. It’s... not safe. Especially for pretty girls like you.”

You nod, still too stunned to respond properly. You watch as he shoots a web up to the fire escape and swings back into the darkness. You stand there for a moment, your thoughts racing, wondering if the whole thing really just happened. It’s only when you step inside your apartment and hear the quiet of the night that it hits you. Spiderman just saved me, not only that but he’d called you pretty too.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

The next Monday morning at school, everything feels a little surreal. You’re walking through the hallways, mind still reeling from that night’s events. You still haven’t told anyone, and you feel like you’re about to burst. How in the world had Spiderman been so close to you? And you were actually talking to him, like... you know, a real conversation.

As you sit down next to Mark in homeroom, you can’t help but grin. You need to tell someone about the whole thing, and who better than your best friend? You tap his shoulder and lean in close, trying to act casual but failing miserably.

“Oh my God, Mark, you won’t believe what happened last night,” you blurt out, eyes wide with excitement.

He raises an eyebrow, a slight chuckle escaping him as he looks over at you. “What happened? You go to a party or something?”

You shake your head, not able to contain the grin that stretches across your face. “Worse. I got mugged.” You pause for dramatic effect, watching his eyes widen with concern. “But wait—before you freak out, I was saved. By Spiderman.”

Mark freezes for a second, blinking at you in disbelief. “Spiderman? You’re serious? Like, the Spiderman?”

You nod, leaning back in your chair, arms crossed as you recount the entire wild encounter, from the guy grabbing you to being yanked onto the roof and saved by Spiderman. You try to make it sound as casual as possible, but you can’t help but feel the thrill of telling someone about your personal brush with New York’s most famous hero.

“That’s insane,” Mark mutters, clearly processing the details. “Wait, so... what happened next?”

“Well, he saved me,” you say, leaning in like you’re sharing a secret. “But... I’m not gonna lie, Mark, he was lowkey hot.” 

Mark splutters, his face twisting with confusion. “What? You don’t even know what he looks like.”

You shrug dramatically, twirling your pen between your fingers. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not about looks. It’s how he was so protective, you know? The way he grabbed me and made sure I was okay... it was hot.”

You watch Mark's face turn a shade of red as his expression shifts from surprise to something else entirely—discomfort, maybe? You can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to hold it together.

“No way. You’re a freak, bro,” Mark says, shaking his head and trying to laugh it off. “Like, seriously? You’re crushing on a guy you don’t even know?”

You roll your eyes, letting out a short laugh. “I don’t judge your crushes, so don’t judge mine. It’s called appreciating someone for more than just their looks.”

Mark scowls, but there’s a nervous twitch in his eyes. “I’m not judging. But... I don’t know, it’s just a little weird. You’ve got a crush on Spiderman?”

You smile, feeling a little awkward. “I guess. He’s mysterious, heroic... and I mean, he was pretty hot for someone wearing a mask.” You nudge him playfully, watching the way he looks more and more flustered.

Mark shrugs, but you can see the slight hesitation in his eyes. “Whatever, man. You’re weird. But... I guess if he saved you... that’s... kinda cool.”

It’s hard to ignore the little spark of something else in his voice, even if he’s trying to mask it with humor. You grin to yourself, filing the moment away. You’re not sure why, but it feels like there’s a shift between you two—something you can’t quite put your finger on.

You press the issue no further, but the day goes on, and you can't stop thinking about Mark’s weird reaction. Sure, he’s your best friend, but the way he acted just now... it made you wonder. Could he possibly feel something more for you?

You find yourself entertaining the idea of Mark having a crush on you, before shaking your head and brushing the thought away. There’s no way Mark liked you, if he did, he would have told you.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

As the week drags on, you can't shake the thought of Spiderman. Sure, you were trying to move on, but it’s hard when you keep running into him every time you step out of the apartment at night. You’ll be walking home from the store, or maybe grabbing dinner with Giselle and Ninging, and bam—there he is, swinging between buildings or dropping down from some rooftop. It’s like he’s everywhere.

At first, you try to brush it off, telling yourself it’s just a coincidence. But then, it starts feeling a little too suspicious, almost like he’s... following you? Or looking out for you?

One night, you’re walking back from your favorite coffee shop, the crisp air of early fall making you hug your jacket tighter. You’ve been texting Mark, as usual, but his replies are slow—too slow. You roll your eyes at the screen, sighing. You swear, it’s like he’s avoiding you or something.

As you round the corner toward your apartment building, you feel that familiar shift in the air, that sensation of something just slightly off. You glance up and sure enough, you spot him—Spiderman—perched on a rooftop above you, his figure silhouetted against the dim streetlights.

You pause in your tracks, raising a brow. “Really? Again?”

Spiderman tilts his head, as if amused by your reaction. He crouches down and lands lightly in front of you, his movements fluid and graceful.

“You’re following me, huh?” you tease, crossing your arms over your chest. “I mean, I appreciate the protection and all, but you don’t have to babysit me.”

Spiderman straightens, a soft chuckle escaping from behind the mask. “I’m not babysitting,” he says with a playful edge. “Just making sure you don’t run into any... unsavory people.”

You roll your eyes, but there's a slight smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, well, I’m fine. Been walking these streets for years now.”

There’s a pause, as if he’s considering your words. “I’m still here. Just in case.” His voice is a little warmer than usual, though it’s hard to tell beneath the mask.

You feel a mix of amusement and frustration bubbling up. “You’re a real hero, huh?” you quip. “Just swinging in, saving the day. But honestly? I’m starting to get tired of it. I mean, you’re cute and all, but this whole ‘mysterious stranger’ act? It’s getting old.”

The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and as soon as they do, you realize—you’ve just said that to Spiderman.

You quickly recover, trying to act casual. “It’s fine, I guess. I’m just getting a little tired of feeling like I’m in some weird superhero movie, you know?”

Spiderman doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he steps a little closer, his posture still relaxed but with a certain intensity in his eyes—well, you imagine that’s what’s behind the mask.

“Maybe I should back off for a while then,” he says after a beat, his tone more thoughtful. “You’ve got it all under control, right?”

You scoff, crossing your arms in an attempt to cover up how your heart is suddenly beating a little faster. “Yeah, I’ve got it under control, obviously.”

“Really?” Spiderman says, his voice a little too calm for your liking. Before you can even process what’s happening, he webs your phone right out of your hand, and you gasp, stumbling back in surprise as it hovers in midair for a second before landing gently in his palm.

You blink up at him in disbelief, your mouth hanging open. “What the hell? Give that back!”

He shrugs, unfazed. “What if someone mugs you again? No offense, but your reflexes suck.”

Your jaw clenches at the jab, but you can’t help but laugh bitterly. “Thanks, I feel so much safer now. I wasn’t even worried about it.”

You reach for your phone, and he hands it back to you, but there’s a look in his eyes—concern, maybe? Or just frustration. “You might not worry, but I do. You seem like you’ve got your act together, but... I don’t know. Maybe I’m just looking out for you.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real heat in the gesture. "Fine," you say, a little too quickly. "I guess I can let you walk with me then. But just so you know, you’re not my personal bodyguard, alright?”

Spiderman grins behind his mask, a little triumphant, but he falls in step behind you. You try to ignore the way his presence feels different—more constant now, like it’s a part of the night itself. You walk for a few minutes, the quiet of the city streets pressing in on you. You try to focus on the rhythmic sound of your footsteps, but the weight of the past few days catches up with you, and you find your shoulders slumping a little more with each step.

Spiderman notices, of course. You can feel his eyes on your back, studying you, but he doesn’t say anything for a while.

Finally, he speaks up, his voice softer than usual. “You wanna talk about it? I mean, you’ve been acting a little... off tonight.”

You look over your shoulder at him, surprised that he even noticed. But you don’t hesitate. Maybe it’s the anonymity of the mask. Maybe it’s the strange comfort of having a stranger to vent to. But suddenly, you just want to unload.

“Yeah,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “I mean, I’ve been dealing with some... stuff lately.”

You kick a rock along the sidewalk as you walk, the soft scrape of it filling the silence. “I’ve got this friend, Mark, right? We’ve been close for years—like, best friends. We have this thing where every Saturday, no exceptions, we hang out. Watch movies, talk... whatever. We’re just... us. But lately? He’s been acting weird. Like, really weird.”

Spiderman doesn’t interrupt. He just walks beside you, giving you the space to talk.

“It’s like he’s avoiding me,” you continue, your words gaining momentum. “I get that people get busy, but he’s never like this. He’s slow to reply, sometimes doesn’t even respond at all, and when he does, it’s like he doesn’t care anymore. I don’t even know what happened. It’s just... really frustrating. And I don’t even know if I should ask him about it, because I don’t want to come off as desperate or clingy.”

You kick another rock, your frustration spilling over, and for a second, you feel a little ridiculous. Here you are, talking about Mark to a guy you don’t even know, someone who wears a mask and swings from rooftops. But the words come tumbling out anyway, all of your insecurities and confusion finding a strange kind of release in the cool air of the city.

Spiderman stays quiet for a moment, processing. When he finally speaks, his voice is calm, like he’s trying to make sense of your ramblings. “Sounds like he’s pulling away for some reason,” he says thoughtfully. “But I’m sure there’s a reason. Maybe he’s just going through something, you know?”

You shrug, feeling the weight of the uncertainty settle in your chest. “I don’t know. I just... I want things Spiderman listens quietly, his footsteps matching yours as you walk. You don’t notice the way his posture shifts, or the way his mask seems to obscure any hint of emotion—though somehow, you feel like he’s really paying attention.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks again, his voice thoughtful and a little gentler than before. “You know, I think you should just talk to him. Mark, I mean.”

You stop in your tracks, looking over at him in surprise. “What?”

Spiderman shrugs, his tone almost casual, but his words don’t match the nonchalance. “I get it. You’re frustrated, and you don’t want to be the one to chase him down. But sometimes, people just need a nudge. If you really want things to go back to the way they were... maybe you should just be honest with him. Ask him what’s up.”

You frown, crossing your arms tightly over your chest, suddenly feeling a little vulnerable. “But what if I look desperate? Or, I don’t know... what if he doesn’t care?”

Spiderman stops walking too, his voice quiet but steady when he answers. “He cares. I’m sure of it.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, surprised by how certain he sounds. “How could you possibly know that? You don’t even know him.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t need to. I can tell from the way you talk about him. The way you light up when you mention him. You’re not the kind of person who just forgets someone you care about. And trust me, it’s obvious he doesn’t want to lose that either. Whatever’s going on, I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”

You let out a long sigh, leaning against the nearest streetlamp. His words stir something inside you—something you’ve been avoiding all week. The idea that Mark really does care makes your heart feel a little lighter, but the fear is still there. “But what if he doesn’t? What if I make things worse by trying to talk to him?”

Spiderman leans against the wall next to you, his posture relaxed. “Look, I’m not saying it’s going to be easy. But you know him. I’m sure you’ve been through rough patches before and you worked through them. You just need to give him the chance to explain himself. I think that’s all he needs—someone to really talk to. And if you don’t do it, you’ll always be wondering what could’ve happened.”

You chew on your lip, his words hanging in the air between you. There’s a weight to them, something that feels... true. Something that makes you want to listen to him, to take his advice. But still, there’s a stubborn part of you that wants to push it all aside. “I just... don’t want to get hurt. Again.”

Spiderman straightens up, his tone surprisingly gentle. “You won’t. Not if you’re honest. Trust me.”

You glance up at him, your gaze softening as you look into the mysterious eyes behind his mask. He sounds so sure of himself.

“Thanks,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him. “I’ll think about it.”

He nods once, giving you an almost encouraging smile beneath the mask. “I know you will.”

You both fall silent as you continue walking, but the weight in your chest doesn’t feel quite as heavy anymore. Maybe, just maybe, Spiderman is right. Maybe you do need to talk to Mark.

Maybe it won’t be as scary as you think.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

A few days after your conversation with Spiderman, things between you and Mark seem to settle down a bit. He’s still a little distant at times, but when he’s around, you notice he’s more present, his smiles more genuine, his conversations less distracted. It’s not the same as before—things can’t just magically go back to normal—but there’s something warmer there, something more honest.

One afternoon, as you’re sitting at your favorite spot in the courtyard, you catch him coming toward you, looking a little tired but still smiling like he’s actually glad to see you. You can’t help but feel a pang of relief. It’s been a while since you’ve had one of these simple, casual hangouts, and you’ve missed it more than you care to admit.

He sits beside you, just like old times, and you both start talking like you haven’t missed a beat. But the conversation isn’t just surface-level anymore. He seems more open, more real.

After a while, you can’t hold back anymore. The thought has been gnawing at the back of your mind for days, and it’s finally time to ask.

You clear your throat, trying to sound casual, though your heart is thumping in your chest. "Hey, Mark. Can I ask you something?"

He glances at you, his brow furrowing slightly, but he’s still listening. “Of course. What’s up?”

You take a deep breath, trying not to come off too confrontational. "Why did you ghost me before? I mean, I know you were busy, but... you weren’t even texting me back. I didn’t want to push, but it felt like you were avoiding me."

His expression hardens for just a moment, like he's bracing himself. He looks away for a second, running a hand through his hair. "I was... going through something. Something personal."

You wait, your heart rate picking up. The words hang between you two, waiting for him to elaborate. But he doesn’t.

You want to press him, ask for more details, but you don’t. There’s something about the way he said it—quiet, almost hesitant—that makes you feel like he’s not ready to share. You nod, leaning back against the bench. “Okay... But you know, you can always talk to me, right?”

Mark hesitates, eyes flicking back to you, a mix of gratitude and something else passing through his gaze. "I know," he says, his voice soft but firm. "But right now, I really can’t. I wish I could, but..." He lets out a sigh, his shoulders dropping. "It’s complicated, and I don’t want to drag you into it."

You feel the weight of his words, something about them striking you deeper than you expected. There’s an intensity there, a desperation almost, that you weren’t prepared for. You stare at him for a moment, your gaze softening as you consider his words.

"I trust you, Mark," you say quietly. "And I know you’re not lying to me. So... if you can’t tell me yet, it’s okay. Just know that I’m here, whenever you’re ready."

There’s a long pause as he looks at you, like he’s trying to read the sincerity in your eyes. Finally, he looks away, nodding slowly.

"Thanks. That... means a lot to me." His voice cracks a little, and you can tell how much he appreciates your understanding. "I really am sorry for pulling away, though. I never wanted to hurt you."

You smile softly, feeling the tension between you two finally start to ease. "I know you didn’t. But I’m here, okay? Just like you said—whenever you’re ready, I’m not going anywhere."

He gives a small, grateful smile, his eyes warmer than they’ve been in a while. "Thanks... I really mean it."

From that moment on, things slowly start to return to a sense of normalcy. Mark isn’t completely open with you yet—whatever is going on with him still seems like something he’s not ready to share—but there’s a shift. There’s no more distance. He’s trying, and you’re trying, and that’s enough for now.

And as you walk to class together the next day, you feel a little lighter. Maybe things aren’t perfect, and maybe they never will be, but you’re still here for each other. And somehow, that’s all you need for now.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Things have started to settle into a new rhythm, one that’s almost comfortable. You and Mark are hanging out again, like before, laughing and joking and just enjoying each other’s company. But now, there's something different in the air—something lighter, maybe even flirtatious. It’s subtle, but it’s there. He'll tease you, throw out little compliments that make your heart race, and you’ve noticed the way he looks at you when you’re talking, his eyes softer than usual.

You can’t deny it—you’re starting to feel the spark again, that chemistry you thought you had maybe lost when things got weird. But you're also talking to Spiderman regularly now, and every time you do, you feel like you’re walking this tightrope between two worlds—one where everything feels so right with Mark, and one where he is a complete mystery. You don’t even realize it yet, but you're starting to fall for both of them in very different ways.

You hadn’t expected to run into him tonight, but here he is, perched on the fire escape across the street, casually leaning against the rail. It’s become a weird sort of routine lately—your nightly walks where you’d end up talking to Spiderman. It’s comforting in its own way, even if you still don’t know who’s behind the mask.

You slow your pace and look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re stalking me now?”

Spiderman chuckles, the sound muffled by the mask but still warm enough to make your chest flutter. “If I’m stalking you, then you’re stalking me, too,” he teases, swinging down lightly to land in front of you. “What’s up tonight?”

You shrug, adjusting the straps of your bag over your shoulder. “Not much. Just out to clear my head.”

The city feels quieter at night. The hum of the busy streets seems far away, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you standing there in the stillness. You’ve gotten used to his company in the past couple of weeks, and there’s a sense of comfort in the anonymity between you. A part of you almost wishes you could talk to him more. After everything with Mark, it’s nice to have someone to listen, someone who isn’t involved in the mess.

He notices the shift in your demeanor, and you can tell by the tilt of his head that he’s waiting for you to speak.

You let out a deep breath, gathering your courage. You hadn’t planned on telling him this, but somehow it just comes out. “I think I’m in love with Mark,” you say, voice quieter than usual, almost scared to even say it out loud.

His posture stiffens for a second, though you can’t see his expression under the mask. “Mark?” he repeats, sounding genuinely surprised. “Like, your best friend Mark?”

You nod, biting your lip. “Yeah. I mean... I don’t know. It’s confusing. We’ve been friends forever, and now it’s like I can’t get him out of my head. Lately, he’s been like flirting, I think?”

“Flirting?” he asks, his tone curious, almost teasing. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah,” you say, laughing nervously. “I don’t know, he’s just been way nicer lately? Texting me more, teasing me... It’s like he’s trying to get closer to me or something.”

You glance around, unsure of how to continue, suddenly feeling a little silly talking about your boy problems to Spiderman. You rub the back of your neck and look away, trying to gather your thoughts. “But I don’t know if I’m imagining it. Maybe I’m just reading into things. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long. He’s always been nice to me, but now it’s... different. It’s making me crazy. I don’t know what to think.”

Spiderman watches you quietly, his posture still, though there’s something in the way he holds himself that makes you feel like he’s really paying attention. “You deserve an answer,” he says after a pause, his voice low but certain. “You deserve to know how he feels, one way or the other.”

You look up at him, surprised by his words. “You think so?”

He gives a slight nod. “Yeah. You can’t keep guessing forever. I mean, I’m not saying it’s easy to talk about feelings, but it’s the only way to know for sure.”

You bite your lip, nodding slowly. You want to believe him, you want to believe that talking to Mark is the right thing to do, but the idea of being rejected still stings. “Yeah... I guess you're right. I’ve been avoiding talking to him about it. I’m scared of what might happen if I do.”

Spiderman steps closer, his voice soft and reassuring. “If he’s your friend, he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t... then at least you’ll know where you stand.”

You sigh deeply, feeling the weight of his words. He’s right, of course. You’ve been avoiding the conversation with Mark because you’re afraid of what might happen, but maybe it’s time to face it.

“Thanks,” you say, feeling a little lighter. “I’m not sure I’d have the courage to do it if you hadn’t said something.”

“No problem,” he replies, a teasing note in his voice. “I mean, I’m just a friendly neighborhood Spiderman. Helping people is kind of my thing.”

You laugh a little, but it’s a mix of relief and gratitude. “You’re way too nice to be a superhero.”

He shrugs, though you can’t see it through the mask. “I do what I can. But seriously, take my advice. Talk to him. He’s probably just as confused as you are.”

You smile, feeling a little more confident now. “I will. I promise.”

Spiderman gives you a nod of approval before his posture shifts, signaling that it’s time to go. “Alright. Go get some sleep. You’ve got this.”

You watch as he swings up to the rooftops, disappearing into the night, and for the first time in a while, you feel like maybe—just maybe—you can start figuring things out with Mark.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

You don’t even see it coming.

One moment, you’re walking back from the corner store with a bag of snacks, minding your own business. The next, someone grabs you, and your heart leaps into your throat. A rough voice snarls in your ear, “Where’s your friend Spiderman?”

Panic overtakes you, and all you can manage is a confused stammer. You’re shoved into the back of a van, heart racing as you piece together what’s happening. Someone must’ve seen you with him that night, or maybe they’ve been watching for longer than you realized.

Your captors don’t wait long to make their demands clear. “You tell him to show up, or things get messy,” one says, holding up your phone. They want you to call him. The problem is, you have no idea how.

You stutter, trying to explain that you literally don’t have his phone number.

“Don’t play dumb,” the second man snaps, holding up your phone. “We’ve seen him with you. Call him.”

“I can’t—”

Your words are cut off as the van jerks to a halt. The two men exchange alarmed glances, and then you hear it: a thud on the roof.

“What the hell was that?” one mutters, pulling out a weapon.

The next sound is unmistakable—the sharp thwip of a web. The van rocks violently as the door is ripped clean off, light flooding the cramped space.

And there he is.

Spiderman is a blur of red and blue, launching himself into the van with an acrobatic flip. He webs the first man’s weapon before the guy can react, yanking it away and tossing it aside. The second man lunges at him with a crowbar, but Spiderman ducks, the crowbar smashing into the wall behind him with a deafening clang.

“Stay down,” Spiderman warns, his voice firm but calm.

The first guy doesn’t listen. He charges at Spiderman, only to get a web shot to the face. Spiderman kicks him backward, sending him sprawling onto the van’s floor.

“Are you okay?” Spiderman asks, glancing at you briefly.

You nod, too stunned to speak.

The second guy doesn’t go down as easily. He’s bigger, meaner, and surprisingly agile. He swings the crowbar again, catching Spiderman in the side. The sickening sound of metal against his ribs makes your stomach turn.

Spiderman grunts in pain, stumbling but recovering quickly. He blocks the next swing with his forearm, webbing the crowbar and yanking it from the man’s grasp. “You really don’t learn, do you?” he quips, his voice strained.

Before he can finish, the first guy is back on his feet, armed with a knife. He slashes at Spiderman, who dodges narrowly but takes a glancing cut to his arm.

“Two against one,” Spiderman mutters, “that’s not very fair.”

He shoots a web at the knife, disarming the man, then uses a second web to yank him forward. Spiderman spins, using the man’s momentum against him, and sends him crashing into the wall of the van.

The second guy charges, tackling Spiderman to the ground. They grapple, fists flying, and you can see Spiderman slowing down, his movements less precise. Blood stains his suit where the knife grazed him, and he’s holding his side—likely from the earlier hit.

Your breath catches as the second guy pins him, but Spiderman surprises you, using his legs to flip the man over his head. He’s back on his feet in an instant, delivering a punch that knocks the guy out cold.

Spiderman turns to you, his breathing heavy, his posture slouched. “You’re safe now,” he says, but his voice wavers.

“Safe? You’re bleeding!” you exclaim, rushing to his side.

“It’s fine,” he says, trying to wave you off, but his movements are sluggish, and he’s gripping his ribs tightly.

“It’s not fine,” you argue, your voice rising. “You’re hurt. You need help. Come on, let’s go to my place.”

He hesitates, but when he stumbles slightly, he lets you guide him out of the van.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

You practically drag Spiderman up the fire escape to your bedroom. He’s limping, trying to downplay the extent of his injuries, but you can see the pain etched into his body language—even through the mask.

“Sit,” you order the moment you’re inside, gesturing to your bed. He hesitates, scanning the windows and doors like he’s expecting someone to burst in.

“Relax,” you add. “Nobody followed us.”

With a reluctant nod, he sinks into the couch, groaning softly. You rush to grab your first-aid kit, returning to find him still gripping his side, his masked head tilted back against the cushions.

“Alright,” you say, kneeling beside him. “I need to check your injuries. You’re gonna have to take off the mask.”

He tenses immediately, shaking his head. “I can’t do that.”

“Spiderman,” you say firmly, “you can’t breathe properly. I need to check if you’re okay. I swear, I won’t tell anyone.”

“No,” he says again, his voice edged with frustration. “I can’t. It’s... complicated.”

You sit back on your heels, crossing your arms. “Complicated? You just saved my life, and now I’m trying to save yours. What’s complicated about that?”

He looks at you for a long moment, the lenses of his mask narrowing slightly. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been through worse.”

You huff, annoyed. “Fine. At least let me patch up what I can see.”

He allows you to clean the cut on his arm, wincing slightly as you dab antiseptic on it. You notice how quiet he’s gotten, his usual witty banter replaced by a tense silence.

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know,” you say softly, glancing up at him.

“I do,” he replies immediately, his tone clipped.

The words hit harder than you expect. You lean back, giving him space, and he stands, wobbling slightly.

“Thanks for the help,” he says, moving toward the window.

“Wait—”

“I’ll be fine,” he cuts you off, stepping onto the ledge. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

And then he’s gone, leaving you staring at the empty space where he’d been, your chest tight with frustration and worry.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

It’s been days since you last saw Spiderman. Days of walking home late at night and feeling the eerie absence of the one person who always made you feel safe. You tell yourself it’s fine. That he’s busy saving the city or maybe just giving you space. But deep down, you feel the sting of being shut out.

Mark’s been acting strange too. Not like before, when he outright ignored you, but there’s something guarded about him again—like he’s keeping secrets. You don’t know how much more of this you can take.

One evening, as you’re walking home, the silence feels unbearable. The air feels colder, heavier, without the usual sense of someone watching your back. By the time you reach your apartment, your chest feels tight with frustration. You pull out your phone, scrolling through your recent conversations.

Nothing from Spiderman.

Mark’s last text was a brief, “Can’t hang tonight, sorry.”

You shove your phone in your pocket and head straight to Mark’s apartment

When Mark opens the door, he looks surprised—and maybe a little nervous—to see you.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asks, trying for casual, but there’s a stiffness in his tone.

“Are you avoiding me again?” you blurt out, crossing your arms.

He blinks, clearly caught off guard. “What? No. Why would I—”

“Don’t lie to me, Mark,” you cut him off. “You’ve been weird. You’re barely texting back, and when you do, it’s like you’re walking on eggshells. What’s going on with you?”

He runs a hand through his hair, avoiding your gaze. “I’m just... dealing with stuff, okay? It’s nothing to do with you.”

You step closer, lowering your voice. “You told me to trust you. To believe that you care about me. And I do, Mark. But it feels like you’re shutting me out again, and I can’t take that.”

He lets out a long sigh, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then make it simple!” you exclaim. “You’re my best friend, Mark. You don’t have to do everything alone.”

For a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something—something big. But then he stops himself, his jaw tightening.

“I can’t,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stare at him, heart sinking. “Why not?”

“Because if you knew...” He pauses, swallowing hard. “It would change everything. And I can’t risk that.”

Your mind races, frustration boiling over. “Do you even realize how hard it is for me to feel like I can’t talk to anyone? To feel like I’m losing you and—” You stop yourself, clenching your fists. “You know what? Forget it. I’ll stop asking.”

“Y/N...”

“No,” you say firmly, stepping back. “When you’re ready to actually be honest with me, let me know.”

Before he can respond, you turn and walk away, leaving him standing in the doorway, his expression conflicted.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

Mark can’t stop replaying the look on your face as you walked away. The hurt in your voice, the weight of your words—it gnaws at him. For the first time in his life, he’s truly afraid he might lose you.

He paces his room, running a hand through his hair. Every excuse he’s made to keep his identity a secret feels hollow now. You deserve the truth. And if it costs him everything? At least you’ll know how much you mean to him.

Grabbing a small bouquet of flowers—ones he spotted on the way home earlier—he suits up and swings toward your apartment. The city rushes by beneath him, but for once, he doesn’t revel in the thrill of it. His heart pounds in his chest as he lands on your fire escape, crouching just outside your bedroom window.

With a deep breath, he knocks.

You look up, confused at first, but then your heart skips a beat when you see the familiar figure crouched on the fire escape. Spiderman.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should even let him in after how things ended the last time. But then you sigh, walking over and unlocking the window.

“What are you doing here?” you ask flatly, crossing your arms as he steps inside.

He straightens, holding out the small bouquet of slightly squished flowers. “I, uh... I messed up,” he says, voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “And I needed to make it right.”

You glance at the flowers, then back at him, skeptical. “You think flowers are gonna fix everything?”

“No,” he admits quickly, shaking his head. “Not at all. But I’m here because... I need to tell you the truth. The whole truth.”

You raise an eyebrow, not entirely convinced. “You’re finally ready to take off the mask?”

“Yes,” he says firmly, stepping closer. “But only if you promise not to freak out.”

“Why would I freak out?” you mutter, but your curiosity is piqued.

“Just—close your eyes,” he says, a nervous edge to his voice.

You hesitate for a second but do as he asks. You hear the faint rustle of fabric, the sound of him taking off his mask. Then, gently, he takes your hands in his and places them on his face. His skin is warm under your fingertips, and you can feel the slight tremor of his nerves.

“Okay,” he says softly. “Open your eyes.”

You do—and your breath catches in your throat.

“Mark?”

He winces, giving you a sheepish smile. “Surprise?”

Your hands fall from his face as you take a step back, staring at him in utter disbelief. “What the actual hell?! Mark, you’re Spiderman?!”

“Yeah...” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to tell you, I really did. But I couldn’t. Not until now.”

You blink at him, processing. Suddenly, all the weird behavior, the ditching, the injuries—it all makes sense. “You’ve been lying to me this whole time,” you say, your voice shaking slightly.

“I wasn’t lying,” he says quickly. “I was just... protecting you. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

You open your mouth to argue, but then you stop, taking a deep breath. “Why now, then? Why tell me now?”

“Because I couldn’t lose you,” he says, his voice raw with sincerity. “I know I’ve messed up a lot, and I’ve hurt you, and I hate myself for that. But you’re the most important person in my life, and if being honest is the only way to fix this, then... here I am. No more secrets.”

Your heart aches at the vulnerability in his words. You take a step closer, searching his face. “You’re an idiot,” you say quietly.

He nods, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. “I know.”

“But I guess... I can forgive you,” you add, your voice softening. “Eventually.”

The tension in his shoulders eases, and he lets out a breath of relief. “Thank you.”

There’s a pause, the air between you heavy with unspoken feelings.

“So...” you say, tilting your head. “What now?”

“Well,” he says, his smile growing, “I was kinda hoping we could start over. But, like, as more than friends this time.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now too. “I guess saving me from a mugger earns you some points.”

“Good,” he says, stepping closer. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you meet his gaze, the truth in his eyes making your knees feel weak.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I’m in love with you too.”

Before either of you can overthink it, you close the distance between you, pulling him into a kiss that feels like it’s been years in the making. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and for once, everything feels right.

Maybe for once Spiderman can have a happy ending.

🕸️🕷✮⋆˙

author's note 𝟅𝟈 this was a bitch to finish i'm ngl but i think i'm pretty happy with how it turned out so yay! i love spiderman sm so yk i love spidermark too. anyways leave suggestions for fics in the comments or my inbox pls.

masterlist.

[waterfire1848]

AU: azula escapes the asylum becomes a vigilante akin to batman and is more effective at defeating ozai fanatics than zuko (much to his jealousy and anger when he finds out) and azula manages to fix the reputation of her nation through her vigilantism and while iroh sends agents to take her down as a threat (succeeding in imprisoning her) ty Lee and mai who have found out who the vigilante is, stand up for azula on the trial and state that most of the accusations for what she did during the war is slander. By the end of it, azula is freed and moves to Kyoshi island to live an easier life, even if the warriors hate her; she even sets up a life as a farmer/trader where she sells vegetables, fruits, teas, herbs, spices and medicine. (Tyzula endgame)

Hello, @supbro50000 !!!

1. Azula gets sick and tired of waiting for someone to let her out of the asylum so she breaks out. She frees herself then rushes to a small village outside of the capital to lay low for a while. While there, a nice family takes her in and allows her to stay. She gets food, water, a place to sleep and does some work around the house for them while she's figuring out her next move. The family that takes her in has a mom, dad and two young boys. Azula grows close to the mom in the house, who treats her like one of her own, and even spends some evenings playing with the kids outside. (Mother: I saw you playing outside with the boys. Azula: I was training. Mother: I'd love to meet whoever your parents are. Not everything has to involve training. Azula: You would not want to meet my parents. Trust me. Mother: I'm sure they can't be that bad. Azula: You'd be surprised.) Initially, Azula wants to take down Zuko and become Fire Lord again. She's just taking the time to figure out what the best way to do that is. However, one night, the village, and family that has been incredibly kind to her, are attacking by Ozai fanatics. Angered that they're hurting the people who have been kind to her (especially the mom), Azula attacks when she scares them off, revealing her blue fire and lightning. Azula doesn't try to remain in the village after this, she just gives the mom a silent nod and smile and rushes off into the forest.

2. Azula sets up base in an abandoned village that was deserted by people years ago. She hunts the various animals, collects water from the stream and buys whatever else she needs from neighboring towns to construct her base. From there, she decides to go after the Ozai fanatics who are terrorizing the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom citizens that are trying to call the Fire Nation home. She's careful, never showing her face, and hardly bends (so no one is able to see her blue flames). Wherever she goes, she takes care of the Ozai fanatics with ease because they don't know how to fight a sane Azula, no one does. She's hurt from time to time but never returns to her base without making sure she's gotten the fanatics to leave. As more time goes on, Azula overhears from various that the loyalists are backing down and are more and more scared to come out. Not because of Zuko's efforts but before of Azula. (EK citizen: I'm telling you. My fiance and I were terrified of staying in the Fire Nation last year. She wants to stay here cause her family is in the Fire Nation, but with the loyalists we didn't know if it would be safe for me. Azula: How horrible. Citizen: It was until that Phoenix showed up. Azula: Phoenix? Citizen: She's this fighter who's been taking down the loyalists. Everyone calls her Phoenix because someone saw her bend and the former Fire Lord wanted to be the Phoenix King so...kinda funny. Azula, smirking: I guess it is.)

3. You know who doesn't like this development? (Ozai Loyalists? Not far off, but no). Zuko. He's not against the fact that the loyalists are being taken care of (that's the only part about this that he actually likes) but he doesn't for the fact that it's some masked vigilante who's doing it. They don't know what she wants or who she's working for and that does not sit right with Zuko. One day, when Azula is fighting, Zuko happens to be nearby with Mai and they head over and see the Phoenix. (Zuko: It can’t be…) Pretty quickly they discover it’s Azula and Zuko is not happy. He believes this is all some big stunt by her to trick people or that she’s working with the loyalists in some way. Mai isn’t convinced that she’s doing that at all, but Zuko doesn’t listen. Instead, he informs Iroh about what is going and Iroh orders Yuyan archers and imperial firebenders to head out and capture Azula. During one of her fights when she’s injured, Azula drags herself back to her base and finds everyone there waiting for her. They subdue her and take her to the palace, throwing her in a cell while she awaits her trial. During this time, Mai talks to Ty Lee about Azula being the vigilante and the two come to the understanding that Azula wasn’t doing it for fame or to trick anyone because she never seems to want to do that. Even in prison, she just talks about wanting to get rid of the Ozai loyalists. The two decide that they have to do something.

4. At Azula’s trial, both for her vigilante actions and actions during the war, Mai and Ty Lee speak up for her. They argue that if she’s getting put in jail then, by logic, so should they and Iroh. (Mai: We were on her side. Everything you’re accusing her of is something we did too. Zuko: That’s different. You two- Mai: I love you, Zuko, but that’s the only reason why I defected from Azula’s team. I didn’t think the war was wrong or the Fire Nation was wrong. I did it to protect you and Ty Lee defected to protect me. Ty Lee: And if Azula deserves to be in prison for her actions then why isn’t Iroh. He tried to conquer Ba Sing Se too. Iroh: That’s different. I have realized the mistakes of my actions and deeply regret them and I’m doing what I- Ty Lee: You had time to understand that you were wrong. How long did you go on your spiritual journey? Iroh: 2 years. Ty Lee: 2 years after the war Azula was helping stop Ozai loyalists. Isn’t that a sign that she doesn’t want Ozai back? That she doesn’t want him to succeed? That she realizes her mistakes? Azula: I don’t want Ozai back. I want him gone and in prison forever and those loyalists would have prevented that from happening.) After much arguing and back and forth, Azula is released and allowed to leave the palace without issue. Azula does leave but she also realizes that the Ozai loyalists are pretty much gone now and, after the trial, she doesn’t want to remain in the Fire Nation. Ty Lee comes to her after the trial and says that she might have an idea.

5. It’s a challenge at first, living on Kyoshi Island, but Azula and Ty Lee get used to it. The Kyoshi Warriors are not fans of Azula when she first arrives, but the firebender learns to gain their trust and prove that she’s not here for any kind of malicious reason. Eventually, the girls learn to accept that Azula know lives on the island. For the sake of having something to do, Azula trains with Ty Lee in the Kyoshi Warrior style(some girls are against it but Ty Lee convinces them). Suki provides her with more than a few books about a firebender who traveled with Avatar Kyoshi who could create white fire (Azula becomes an instant fan). When Azula had mastered the Kyoshi Warrior’s way of fighting, she decides to stop fighting, taking a few years to simply rest and be free. She and Ty Lee get married when they’re both 25. By then, Azula has become a farmer and trader on the island, learning how to grow crops thanks to her neighbors and trading with Earth Kingdom coastal towns. During one of her visits, Azula notices a young girl stealing from her stand and discovers the child (about 4 or 5) is an orphan. She takes the girl back to the island and she and Ty Lee agree to adopt her. 3 years later, they adopt a Water Tribe baby boy (who is a suspected waterbender). (Katara: Not that I don’t love seeing you two with kids, but why not a firebender? Someone you could train. Azula: I was too worried I’d end up like Ozai. It might be harder for him to learn bending but at least I’ll never hurt him. He’ll be safe and loved even if he is raised by two women from the Fire Nation. Katara: Aw. That’s so sweet. I’m sure you’ll both raise him well. If you need any help with his waterbending later in life, let me know. Azula: We will. Ty Lee: *Side eyeing Azula* Katara: What? Azula: There’s a second reason we adopted him. Not nearly as important as making sure he’s loved and supported and- Katara: What? Azula: It’s hilarious watching old racist Fire Nationals at the palace almost have a heart attack when they realize their former princess is now the mother of an Earth Kingdom ‘peasant’ and a Waterbender. Katara: You know what? That is hilarious.

[st4rry-sp1d3r]

¶Drabble#2:FruitBat¶

Aka VaresaxOroron

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Softness

Synopsis: the beloved and introverted farmer of the master's of the night comes to know the pleasures of the flesh:hugs :)

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Ororon loved his friends,each and everyone of them,despite being shit sticks at showing it. He instead showed it by keeping stuff that his friends gifted him and listening to them in case they needed someone to ramble off to.

He kept the bathing suit Mualani let him borrow that time he bathed in the spring waters,except it was the trial one and he came out looking like a cooked lobster. Still a good experience though.

He kept the small bunny plushie Kachina gifted him. She had the same one and slept with it every night and honestly he did the same,it was so soft after all. He kept the matching bandana he got with Kinich that time they were playing spin the bottle and they got dared to do a handstand together with the bandanas tying their ankles together. He got a framed picture of that and he knew Kinich had one too.

The frame in which he kept said photo was of Xilonen's creation,a carefully crafted photo frame in white chestnut wood and decorated with meticulously shaped Draconite,and two feathers,one bigger than the other,belonging to Chasca's qucusaurus since it was a project made together by both women.

Then in a corner of his room there were coach Iansan's weights that she brought to him thanks to Varesa because she said he was way too frail looking in the upwards department,typical archers. Not to mention the jacket Ifa gifted him because he saw him shivering the first few nights they started hanging out.

"your house is so nice,Ororon!"

Varesa's cheerful and honey ridden voice woke him back up from his thoughts,making him remember that he had the prettiest girl he'd ever seen sitting on his bed and he was currently standing on the doorway of his bedroom like a goddamn idiots,with a bunch of snacks and two bottles of fresh grain fruit juice.

"ah,yes,thank you" He nodded,quickly walking to his bed and lending her the bottle and sitting the plate on his mattress. "Dammit,what a stupid answer" he thought in his head,watching as she uncapped the bottle without even needing a corkscrew,just a simple and firm hit of her hand to the underside of the cork,and with a reluctant bashfulness,he had to lend her his bottle as well because he couldn't for two shits manage to open it.

They spoke of whatever was on their minds. He had the opportunity to vent about how Capitano's loss left him feeling alone again and she had the chance to vent about her insecurity and her not feeling strong enough in the Collective of plenty.

Of course he let her stay over for the night, because while Ororon knew she could walk all the way back to her house,it was more about himself and his paranoia. He just didn't have the heart to let her go home tonight,he felt a bit lonely tonight too and maybe that was feeding into it too.

"What? The couch? Of course not! If we squeeze close enough we'll fit well enough,come here, Batboy!"

That's what Varesa answered when he told her he was gonna go for the couch and leave her the bed,and that alone got him so flustered he had to go into the bathroom to wash his face with cold water to make sure it was all happening.

When he came back,on wobbly knees,and he slowly entered under the covers,Varesa was quick to envelope him in her arms,tight and snug,pulling his lanky leg over her well built hip and he was basically losing it,close to panicking.

"here you go,cozied up enough?"

*the girl smiled,still not aware of his panic as she snuggled her cheek against his soft violet hair,one hand moving between the freshly washed strands and another gently rubbing at the base of one of Ororon's bat ears and then,he felt it:his brain melting over.

Ororon felt as if he was spectating his body moving on his own,as if he was spectating the way his nose burrowed itself between the valley of the girl's soft breasts,how his arms slowly wrapped around her and how the grip of his leg tightened around her hip as well,his face then moving from her breasts to the crook of her neck and he responded to her question with a low and simple hum.

"Liking it,'Roro?"

"hmmm..."

"everything good?"

"yes ma'am..."

"oh you're such a cutie..."

...

...

"...and you're perfect..'Resa..."

[A.N:They're filling my brain like a disease,I want to cradle them gently in my hands]

[asleepinawell]

[haravath0t]

The Spy’s Game - Prologue

Pairing: Noir Spy!Steve x Noir Spy!Reader

(inspired by the 1946 film, Notorious)

A/N: Well, here it is! The Prologue to “The Spy’s Game”! I am really excited for this one, you guys. As this is pretty based off of the film, Notorious, possibly my favorite Noir and Spy movie, I really look forward to mixing up my love for Old Hollywood film and the MCU into this fic, with none other than Steve Rogers himself.  I currently am still trying to see whether or not this is considered a mini-series or series yet, so let’s see where it goes. I am trying my best to have these updated on Saturdays! Honest opinions along with comments, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Happy readings, lovlies! 

Los Angeles, California - April 14,1946 - 3:23 PM

Ms. (L/N)! Over here, Ms. (L/N)! Can we get a statement from you about your father?” 

“Do you think your father got what he deserved for working with Hydra?” 

“Ms. (L/N)! Could we say that you are pleased to hear that your father has a life sentence in prison for treason?” 

You were blinded by the numerous amount of flashes directed towards you since you got out of the courthouse. Not a word was said from you as you made your way down the stairs amidst the chaos of photographers and reporters, clutching onto your bag. Your entourage guides you and covers you as you make your way to your car, looking down, not one word to anybody. 

Little did you know certain pairs of eyes were on you and that life had other expectations from you.

“That’s the woman we travelled across the country to see. I expect you to keep watch on her, Agent Rogers. See if she leaves town.”

—————-

A few days had passed since your father had been sentenced to prison, but the press was still onto you, trying their hardest to get a word from you. The policemen that followed you to your house was enough to take you and your father’s story to the front page, and you wanted to get away from the whole reality of it all. 

So, in your own fashion, you threw a little party for you and your inner circle of friends in the comfort of your home in LA, drunkenly laughing along with friends as you poured more liquor into their glasses. It was a chaotic yet joyous sight for you, for everyone seemed to be having a good time. Drunken conversations took place everywhere, from those slouching over the dining table in the kitchen to even the couples that were tipsy as they danced to records in the living room. You giggled as you sloppily poured more drinks for those in the living room. 

“Say, Y/N, were you really followed by the police? Read it on the paper. Sounds exciting doesn’t it?” A woman sloppily calls out from her partner’s shoulder.

“Ahh, those annoying policemen. They never...never got enough of me even before the trial.” You start, attempting to pour out another drink for another man sitting on the couch. 

“But I suppose the only way I’m gonna get rid of them is just by shooting it out,” you tease, causing drunken laughs to fill the living room. “I think you’ve drank enough, Y/N, I think we all did,” another woman calls out, you can’t even bother trying to remember who it was. “Ahh, don’t say that. We haven’t even gotten to the important drinks yet,” you tease reaching over to start a new record. Everybody was still having a good time, filled with dancing and laughs, at least that’s what it seemed like. 

You saw a quiet gentleman in the corner, a mysterious, tall, burly looking man sitting by himself on the couch, watching everyone else. When did he come in? Why did he look so dashing? Well, he’s a guest, and might as well entertain the blond gentleman. His suit perfectly fit his form, a neatly done bowtie wrapped nicely around his neck and under his neat collar, but the poor man didn’t seem to have drank enough yet. You can change that.

“How about you, handsome? Care for a drink?” You ask, leaning against the armrest of the couch with the bottle of liquor on your other hand. He only stares at her with those blue eyes and nods, extending his empty glass to you, watching you as you poured. “Have we met, by any chance?” You question drunkenly. 

No response. 

So you shrug and sway your hips before sitting down next to him, observing him up close. “Hmph… doesn’t matter. I like party crashers.” 

“Oh, he’s not a party crasher, I brought him,” The woman from earlier said. Oh right, Missy was her name. “You know, Y/N. I really don’t mind if a cop had followed me,” Missy shrugs, deciding to get the bottle from you to pour herself a drink. You groaned in frustration. “I hate how normal people like you like the thought of policemen after you, whereas me, get the opposite, You know I’m a marked woman, Missy. They think I am gonna blow up New York or the Panama Canal any minute.” More and more talk came up about the trial, about the cops and you frankly couldn’t take it anymore, so you decided to cut it short, ushering the guests out, wishing them a goodnight as you do your best in your drunken state to escort them out. What a perfectly hideous party.

You close the door, to find your home now all empty, except for the tall blond guy who still sat on the same couch. A little smirk and a chuckle leaves your lips as you restart the record, turning around to see a bottle in the gentleman’s hand and two empty glasses on the table. 

“This drink hasn’t been finished yet. Such a shame, about the ice I mean.” He says, pouring the drink in the two glasses. What an interesting conversation already. 

“What do you mean?” You ask sitting on the couch across from him and taking your glass. 

“It’s gone.” 

“Who’s gone?” 

“The ice,” he says, grunting as he stands up to turn the obnoxious record that has been on repeat for hours off, making you groan in frustration. You just restarted it too. “I don’t get why you even like that record.” He huffs, taking his seat once again to take a sip. “Well, there’s nothing like a love song to give you a good laugh, you retort, taking a gulp of your glass. You liked this guy. Although you didn’t know much about the guy, it wasn’t hard to see that he was handsome despite the fact that he didn’t mingle with the crowd earlier. Your thoughts were cut off by the warmth you felt. “It’s stuffy in here.” You groan, downing the rest of your glass.

“Sure.” 

“Hmmm I am taking a liking to you. Maybe we can have a picnic.” 

“Outside?” 

“Too stuffy in here for a picnic...how are you not finishing your drink?” 

“Doesn’t do much to me, but I do like to practice some self-restraint.”

“What a boy you are,” you scoff, getting his drink and downing the rest of it before you stand up.

“My car is umm.. Outside.”

“Well I’d hope so.”

“Picnic is too much… a drive will do.”

“Fine by me.”

“I’ll drive,” You say as you lazily snatch your keys, struggling to reach for the door, but he stops you. “You need a coat, don’t you? Best if I drive as well.”

You didn’t want this guy telling you what to do. He barely even knew you. “I think you being next to me while I drive is enough warmth.” You huff as you manage to find your way to your convertible. Before you hop in, the gentleman stops you, taking his handkerchief from his pocket and tying it nicely around your collar and opening the door for you. “At least wear this then, will you?” You really just wanted this guy to stop treating you like a delicate little flower. You were getting annoyed by the second. So you drive, despite the fact that this road seemed to just go all over the place in your eyes. The car didn’t go fast enough, you thought to yourself, so you step on the gas, watching his reaction. “You don’t get scared easily do you?” You huff in annoyance. “Not too much,” he replies, although he leaves his hand on the emergency brake should something go wrong. You really intrigued him, quite enjoying himself with the way you try desperately to outdo him, and you on the other hand hated it. “65,” you huff as you look at your speedometer, only to hear the blond chuckle at your words. “Shut up. I can go 80. 85 even. Gonna make that smile go away as quickly as it came. Hate it when men like you do that to me.” You growl, stepping on the gas even harder, but it still didn’t phase the man, only watching him shrug, grin still on his face. “Can’t a guy grin?” He shrugs, smiling more when sirens are heard, adjusting the rear view mirror and taking on the wheel to pull you both over. “Look. A cop. Look at that mirror. Look.” He says, making you whine in frustration for the nth time. 

The car was still going at a fast speed, but still, the policeman was able to ride on its motorcycle towards the vehicle, right beside you. You didn’t do much but glare at them. “Listen, ma’am I think you gotta talk to that cop.” The blond chuckles, watching as you rolled your eyes. “Hate cops. The bunch makes me sick. Here we go. Drunken driving. Second offense. Now I go to jail. Along with my fucking father. Would you look at that? The entire family is in jail. What are the odds of that? Not that it matters anyway.” You mutter to yourself, annoyed as you made yourself slow down and pull over. You quickly quiet yourself as the cop hops off his motorcycle, now standing next to your side of the car. “Having a time for yourself, huh? Wanting more press, L/N?”

“You know you should be in bed. It’s late for fucks sake.” 

The policeman sighs, now talking to the gentleman next to you. “Drunk?” “Now wait a second officer,” the blond responds, digging into his pocket. “I don’t have time for your excuses sir, I-” the officer’s words cut off when he sees the identification from the man. You eye the officer, as he stops and sighs. “Sorry, if you said so earlier, I wouldn’t have pressed on.” The police officer grunts. “No trouble at all, officer. I got it under control.” The blond responds back. 

You get confused as you watch the cop salute the gentleman next to you before riding off in the distance, making you look at what the gentleman was holding, trying your hardest to focus your vision, until it does. And your eyes widen before they turn into ones of anger and disbelief. “Where’s the ticket? I should have gotten one. Tell me your name.” You tell the man angrily, as he returns the item to his pocket. 

“Rogers.”

“You showed him a badge didn’t you? That’s why he saluted you and went off!” 

“I don’t think so.” “You son of a bitch! You’re a fucking bastard!” You say, throwing punches in anger while he effortlessly blocks them. “We can argue later. I’ll drive us back, Miss L/N.” 

“No you won’t! Can’t believe it! A fucking federal agent! Crashing my party! You want something from me!” You continue to fight, him only blocking your punches until you suddenly calm down. “Good. Calm? Okay, I’ll take you back hom-” You started throwing punches again, a little off, but still powerful despite your drunken state. “No, you’re not, the only way you will is through knocking me unconscious! But you do know the way I work don’t you? You know how har-”

“Don’t make me do this.” Steve groans as he dodges and blocks. 

“Hard it is to get by me you hear?! You’ve heard of how-” Your rambled monologue gets cut off when he manages to lift you up and push you towards the passenger’s side, knocking you out in the process by your head accidentally banging against the headrest. Steve winced a bit, but sighed in relief when you didn’t thrash at him anymore, only breathing in and out steadily as he now takes the wheel and makes his way back home. “Really, Fury? Agent L/N? Daughter of Dr. L/N? A member of hydra? Give me a break, Steve scoffs as he turns off the engine, carefully carrying your body to your bedroom until you wake up.

Chapter 1

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[voidsentprinces]

Sorry to bang on about this again, but Stormblood is fucking weird.

We go to Ala Mhigo to liberate it but the Resistance has scarce resources and man power. Despite that we get a victory to push back a Garlean Patrol. And like...immediately despite the Skull reports in the Peaks. Raubahn thinks its best we push for the Bridge despite Rhalgr’s Reach’s flank being clearly open.

After a massacre lead by Zenos puts a pin on the whole Ala Mhigan revolution. Our plan becomes: go to Doma and release it from Garlean rule. Which takes the form of the Pirates of the Ruby Sea pushing the Garleans back into Yanxia. Yanxia is like one village and an underground spy network against a well entrenched Garlean Force. But because this time Zenos is super bored and has part of his helm broken. He just abandons the insurrection and leaves it to Yotsuyu. A woman who he abuses physically and mentally for the fun of it and who has been set on a war path due to the wrongs Doman society has inflicted against her as well as her family and because Zenos wanted to see what she’d do with power. Despite having all the time in the world to nip the Namai insurrection in the bud, she sends her Roe bodyguard who isn’t exactly the Garlean Caesar to push into unfamiliar territory with a sizeable but not overwhelming Garlean Force. To hunt the Warrior of Light and hope that the natives don’t take offense to an army just willy nilly waltzing into its territory.

Speaking of the Azim Steppe, Hien meets us, goes hunting with us, and then decides to use us as a bargaining chip along with his friendship with the Mol. To force himself into a sacred culturally significant battle of the clans to crown head leader of the Steppe. While doing this, Gosetsu of all people becomes super narrow minded. In a world of giant fly metal ships, spirits, mythlogical and demonic beings, and the fucking Warrior of Light. Gosetsu draws the line in his belief at a singular, diminished clan of Au Ra who believe in direct reincarnation. Which he openly besmirches in front of them all and...truth be told I don’t think he ever makes amends or wraps his head around by the time we do leave the Steppe.

The Garlean force is destroyed and pushed back but like I said, while it was a sizeable force it was by no means their entire fucking force. There was nothing stopping them from just sending a bigger force against the Namai village and drawing out the House of the Fierce forces nearby. But no I guess just tying a bunch of explosives to the Doman Castle on the off chance you could kill Hien was just the best possible option. So the battle of Doma Castle goes down and we leave Hien to rebuild a castle and retake any outlying Castrums, by himself.

Get back to Ala Mhigo, who have not really gained any new resources or man power. But at least Thancred is here now and the Scions have pitched in. The Scions being...a very small rag tag group of people. Who were outsmarted like four times by a very arrogant man, his obviously on a pay roll Lalafell commander, and a dude who couldn’t even be trusted to handle Garlean shipments let alone be considered a good candidate for Crystal Braves. But because Zenos has become lethargic and even though he has a Scion hostage. He just sits back as we take a bridge, the entirety of the the Peaks, push the entirety of forces back to the Lochs and practically snuff or capture them there. Handing control over to Fordola. Who he’s seen is socially and mentally abused and made a pariah in the Garlean and Ala Mhigan ranks before...also giving her power to see what the fuck would happen....fucking christ.

We accomplish this all without the help of the Domans who we went to liberate for the purpose of having their man power to help take back Ala Mhigo. In fact, we get 3.9/4 way through the recapture before they show up to help us with. *checks notes* Taking care of a small force of Lupin Beastmen...and some flying Garlean Machinery. With no guarantee that we would even be able to best Zenos. Who diminishes his own power by fusing with a Primal which we are practically masters at fighting at this point. Only for Zenos to cope out at the last moment securing victory for Ala Mhigo. Because we gave Zenos mouth bleed.

After successfully taking out Garlemald in Doma and Ala Mhigo. Alphinaud takes a victory lap by going with Arenvald on a treasure adventure. Which funds the reconstruction of Ala Mhigo. We then decide to take an already Pariah Fordola and put an explosive on her neck if she even thinks of betraying us. Before throwing her at some Primals. Cause she goes a sharingan now, giving her the Echo which is...Hydaelyn Tempering for all intents and purposes. Sending her to fight Gods. During this down time we also secure a Salt trade deal between Ala Mhigo and Ul’dah. Allowing for the transfer of leadership between Raubahn stepping down as the Flame General to leave to his people. A situation which you would of thought the Monetarists would of taken advantage of. But, I guess because we consulted Godbert and Lolorito. I guess they ain’t gonna do nothin.

We do however do something useful in helping teach Meffrid’s friend how to defeat the Loch’s marauding creatures. Before going back to learn off screen two of the worst people in the world, who also were responsible for the Crystal Braves betrayal and the sacrifice of hundreds on Baelsar’s Wall. Have now been side line to being arrested off screen and thus far are never seen or heard from ever again.

We then invite Tempered Beastmen to a peace meeting and act surprised when they summon Lakshmi to summon everyone. Lyse then runs to get Fordola to help on a gambit and gets there and back to the Throne Room faster than we can fly to the Ala Mhigan Quarter and back. We then run off to Doma because Gosetsu might be alive, Alphinaud racks up a huge bill with the Scions by buying a sword. We then fight off an invading force of Garleans before ferrying an amnesiac Yotsuyu and crippled Gosetsu across the Ruby Price. Whose pirates are nice enough not to fucking charge us for damages rendered. We then don’t force one of Yotsuyu’s past abusers to stand trial because he was kind of useful to the Doman Spy Network erasing all wrong doings. I fucking guess.

We are then visited by Asahi who might as well of shown up mustache twirling. Because after learning from one of her past abusers that Yotsuyu was sold to a brothel by her parents. How the fuck would you ever even begin to consider talking with her brother? But fine, I guess you needed the Doman people taken to Garlemald. Which, Asahi does eventually bring. Only to find out, he brought a bunch of crystals with him to turn his sister into a Primal.

After both are dead. Alphinaud, despite knowing that the Ascian possessed Zenos has just sent Asahi to kill them. Decides to go back with the unpopular Popularis to try to be diplomatic with ASCIAN POSSESSED ZENOS in the fucking court. Alphinaud also clearly forgetting how peace-forward the Emperor was when we both ran into him back in the Sea of Clouds.

...this story...is fucking baffling.

I might be forgetting a few details...maybe I am missing something that makes some part of this make sense.

[thepandapopo]

A Step Through Time Ch 5: Promises

Synopsis:

The one where Felix is done with his younger self being a stubborn asshole and Sophie is determined to treat her fathers equally.

OR

In which Felix confronts his younger self and have a much needed chat while Sophie, who really should never be left alone, makes a not-so-great choice. Pairing: Sylvix

Chapter Index

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

If you had asked Ingrid a month ago if Felix would ever willingly allow someone, anyone, to touch him in even the most casual of ways, she would have laughed first, then immediately sent for Manuela because no one in their right mind would ever think such a thing.

So understandably, to say Ingrid is extremely shocked as she watches the older versions of Felix and Sylvain interact with each other is the understatement of the century.

“They’re disgustingly adorable in their own way,” Dorothea snickers from her seat on the dining hall bench beside her. “I don’t know whether I want to coo or puke.”

Ingrid wholeheartedly agrees.

Clearly fatherhood and marriage, or maybe it was being married to Sylvain of all people, has changed Felix – has made him more… domestic. The Felix and Sylvain of her timeline are already joined at the hip, regardless of how much they deny it, but married Felix and Sylvain are in a league of their own.

Everywhere Felix goes, Sylvain is always there beside him with the shorter man’s battle scarred hand tucked neatly into the crook of his right elbow, his left hand gently securing Felix’s own while also proudly showing off the glittery silver ring adoring his ring finger (his engagement ring, Ingrid reminds herself, as Sylvain had made very clear when he decided that the dining hall was a perfect place to scandalize the entire army with a borderline inappropriate kiss). And if little Sophie is with them, it is like an invisible thread ties them together, ensuring that he is standing no further than a hairs breadth apart from his husband with his daughter in his arms, or placing a hand on Felix’s lower back while he carries their little spitfire.

“I know that couples inevitably begin to adopt some of their partner’s characteristics and habits, but this is almost too much.” Ingrid frowns, finally bringing her forkful of food to her mouth after being frozen in place as she blatantly stares at the happy family. “It’s like Felix isn’t even Felix anymore.”

Across from her, Annette hums her assent. “It’s a bit unsettling, but it’s still really nice to see how happy they are. If you ask me, the really creepy thing is Sylvain’s stare. Have you seen it, yet? It’s like an exact copy of Felix.” Bits of buttery crust go flying from her fork as she waves it around to emphasize her point leaving Mercedes to pull out a handkerchief and mop up the stray crumbs that have found their way onto their once pristine table.

It’s true. Although Ingrid has not been on the receiving end of Felix’s (or Sylvain’s now, for that matter) deadpan glare for a long time, she has seen it directed at others – especially when it comes to anything regarding Sophie who is, clearly, extremely doted upon by her two fathers, even while they try to cajole her into finishing the rest of her vegetables.

“Sweetheart, you know you have to finish your meal first before you get your dessert.” Sylvain’s tone is low and chiding, but the softness of his expression very nearly undermines the authority of his words.

“I don’t wanna,” comes the sad whimper complete with puppy eyes and a wobbling lower lip. “It tastes yucky.”

“Aww, cut her some slack, guys!” Whatever else Balthus is about to say from across the table next to theirs is immediately swallowed back down when not only Felix, but Sylvain as well, levels him with a look so equally unamused that even Ingrid can feel the shiver run down her spine.

“Sophia Gabriella Fraldarius-Gautier. You know you cannot leave your seat until you’ve finished your plate.” Felix says, more stern than his husband sitting on the other side of Sophie, but still bordering the line of fond exasperation. With a grimace himself, Felix spears a few of the sprouts on his own fork and shovels them into his mouth.

“Papa is also eating them too, see? You can be a good girl and finish your food too, right, Princess?” Sylvain smiles affectionately but his voice is strained. It’s been the better part of an hour now that he has tried bargaining with his daughter and even the most patient of fathers has a limit. His eyes meets Felix’s briefly as an unspoken message flits between them before Felix nods stiffly and chimes in again.

“If you promise to be good and finish your vegetables for the rest of this month, we will think about letting you go see the market that is passing through town.”

Clearly, it is an effective bait and Sophie’s eyes light up like it’s Yule and her birthday all rolled into one.

“Really?!”

This is news to Ingrid. The last time Annette and Mercedes had mentioned it in passing to future Felix and Sylvain, testing the waters to see if they would be amenable to allowing them to take Sophie, it had resulted in a resounding ‘no’ and one teary child.

“This is war, Annie.” Felix had said in a no nonsense tone after a sniffling Sophia had been carted off to check out the pastries fresh from the kitchen. “She has only known a time of peace. Sophie doesn’t understand how dangerous it can be going out somewhere even as simple as a market in times of unrest.”

“But it’s not like we’d let her go by herself!” Annette argued. “We would be with her the whole time!”

“It’s not your babysitting skills that we’re worried about, Annie.” Sylvain said. His lips quirked upwards in a small smile that did little to lessen the gravity of his expression. “Sophie has a tendency to be ah, a bit of a curious child.”

Felix snorted. “Like someone I know,” he muttered under his breath.

“And so,” Sylvain continued, completely ignoring the barb from his husband even though he knows that later on in the privacy of their own room, he’ll get into how the curiosity may have come from him, but the utter fearlessness and stubborn will to do her own thing one hundred percent came from Felix. “Sophie has a bad habit of wandering off. Goddess knows she’s done it loads of times whenever Felix or I take her down to our local market. The only difference is that everyone there knows who she is and at the end of the day, nothing bad ever happens to her and she comes home with a treat or two and a pat on the head.”

“Well then, we can just hold her hand!” Mercedes says like it is the simplest solution in the world.

“We’ve tried that. We’ve tried literally everything under the sun short of actually tying her to us physically with a rope.”

“But what about-“

“No means no, Annette. We will not argue with you about this. It’s not safe.”

“But Feeelix-!”

And that was the end of that conversation. At least, until now.

But then again, Felix willingly reopening a topic he had previously considered closed is probably one of the lesser odd things that have been happening recently.

“Nuh uh, little missy. All your vegetables means all of them.” Sylvain scrapes the larger bits and pieces of vegetables dotting Sophie’s plate to the center, much to her dismay. The scraps amount to a decent pile of greens and not for the first time, Ingrid realizes just how wily and intelligent Sophie really is.

Raising a daughter with the will of Felix and the looks and intelligence of Sylvain will surely be a trial in itself, but that’s not a problem for Ingrid to worry about. Right now, she just has to worry about making herself scarce when Sylvain and Felix approach Mercie and Annie before she gets dragged into it as well.

----

“Why can’t Daddy come with us?” Sophie asks. Her eyes are wide and sad and Felix will never get used to how it makes his heart wrench. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, baby. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Sylvain crouches so that he’s eye level with his teary daughter. “Daddy has to go to an important meeting with Uncle Dima, Uncle Claude, and Auntie By. But I’ll come find you and Papa if we finish early.” Sylvain smooths back the unruly crimson curls that are already starting to come out of the half updo that Felix had put in this morning. After years of doing his daughter’s hair, Felix has resigned himself to always fixing it halfway through the day lest it becomes a true bird’s nest at night after the wild adventures to be had.

“Promise?” Her lower lip is wobbling and Felix is starting to think that perhaps Sophie is a lot more aware of her influence on others than they think she is.

“I promise, sweetheart.” Sylvain smiles at his daughter before turning his eyes to Felix, a mischievous glint shining through. “Your Papa can vouch that I never break a promise.”

The wink Sylvain throws at him is met with an eyeroll and scoff, but Felix cannot stop the small quirk of his lips. Sylvain has always come through with his promises, both to him and to their daughter. It’s one of the things that Felix loves so dearly about Sylvain after all – there is nothing in the world that he values more than the trust of his family and friends.

“Sophie, go check to make sure you’ve packed your coin purse and a snack. I need to speak with your father for a bit. I’ll meet you at the gates with Auntie Annie and Mercie, okay?”

Sophie doesn’t need to be told twice. She is already vibrating off the walls, eager to get going and visit the market that she has been dying to see. “Yes, Papa. Daddy, I hope you come soon! I’ll buy you a present, so make sure you hurry, okay?”

Felix and Sylvain both watch as their daughter scurries away, red hair flying behind her as she weaves through the mid morning crowd to join Annette and Mercedes standing at the foot of the stairs leading to the Entrance Hall. When she arrives with a hop and skip, Felix finally feels the knot that has been building in chest since that morning abate slightly.

“Hey.”

Felix jolts at the warm hand that cups his elbow. “It’s okay, Fe. She’ll be safe with you. We’re not going to lose her.”

“I know.” Felix huffs, taking a step forward so he can rest his forehead in the dip of Sylvain’s collar. “It’s just... I can’t help but worry.”

Sylvain chuckles, “I get it, Fe. She’s certainly got enough mischief in her to always keep us on our toes. I don’t think she’ll ever grow out of it, to be honest. Goddess knows I dread the day when I’m going to have to beat back suitors and stop her from sneaking out to gallivant with stable boys.”

“There will be no gallivanting with anyone. Period. I would prefer not to stab someone less than half my age.”

“Oh, but baby you look so hot when you’re all riled up and murderous.” The shiver that runs down Felix’s spine is undeniable and after a lifetime together, Sylvain would know the effect he has on his husband even if it weren’t for the hand sliding to wrap around his waist and the other reaching up to cup a smooth, pale cheek.

“Fuck you.” There’s no venom behind his words. Only the breathy whisper of comfort borne from unshakeable trust and love.

“Gladly, but alas I have a meeting to get to.” The red head lets out a full belly laugh and ignores the half-hearted smack from Felix (which still smarts, because Felix at half strength is still stupidly strong with his damn training regimen).  “Are you going to talk to your younger self today?”

The atmosphere takes on a decidedly more sombre note, but it’s a necessary topic.

Felix nods. “Yeah. Annie convinced him to come with us to the market to check out the blacksmith.”

“I’m sorry I can’t come. It would be easier if I were the one to talk to him, but…”

“It’s fine,” Felix shakes his head. “The next battle at Fort Merceus is important and you were a big part of the strategizing. You need to be there to make sure they make the right decisions.”

“Even still. Talking to your younger self about feelings is going to be like pulling teeth. I should know. I’m your very own Felix-whisperer after all.” Sylvain closes his eyes and lets his forehead drop to rest against Felix’s; his soft breath tickling the midnight bangs framing his husband’s visage. “Our younger selves need all the help they can get. Sothis… I don’t remember us being such a disaster.”

“Neither do I, and yet here we are stuck trying to convince our younger counterparts that the other is very much interested.”

“For the record,” Sylvain smirks. The hand that was previously wrapped around Felix’s waist is now slowly drifting lower. “I’d like to say that I’m still very much interested.”

“Pinch my ass in public and you’ll lose your hand.”

“Aw, Fe. You’re no fun!”

It’s the twitch of Felix’s cheek that betrays his amusement. “Tch. Insatiable.”

----

Awkward.

That’s the only way that Felix can even begin to describe the odd, tense energy that weighs down their group as they walk leisurely down the long winding roads descending from Garreg Mach.

To be fair, most of the awkwardness is in part due to Felix’s refusal to speak to his younger self, instead choosing to contentedly watch Sophie hop and skip around the flowers dotting their path. Ever since Sylvain’s decision to completely disregard time travel etiquette, the younger Felix had made himself scarce, pointedly avoiding him and his husband as if afraid that he would catch feelings simply by being around them.

Ha. That fucker was already head over heels in love no matter how much he denied it.

“Sophie, when we get to the market, will you go with Annie and Mercie while I visit the blacksmith please?” Felix says it quiet enough that it sounds like it is a private conversation, but in the silence of the forest around them, it easily carries.

Sophie blinks, confused, but acquiesces. “Okay.”

Felix smiles and pats her head. He can practically feel the suspicion and irritation rolling off his younger self in waves, but he can’t really bring himself to care.

He needs to address this issue now because Felix knows better than anyone else just how obstinate he can be, and if he’s right, there’s a very good chance that this younger version of himself will take his feeling for Sylvain with him to the grave out of pure stubbornness.

So when they finally arrive to the market, Felix doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he wants to talk to his counterpart – alone. He kneels and gives Sophie a quick hug after he makes her promise again to not wander off by herself before standing off to the side in the direction of the blacksmith, his arms crossed and waiting patiently while he watches young Felix scowl at the sheer number of people around.

A brusque nod from young Felix and suddenly they are face to face, and there is no denying the discomfort starting to roil in his gut.

Maybe he should have waited for Sylvain to talk to him after all.

“Well? Spit it out.” Despite asking Felix to talk, his younger self pushes past him roughly and begins stalking towards their destination.

“Stop being so stubborn.” Young Felix whirls around at him with a look of incredulity.

“Being ‘stubborn’?” He glowers. “I’m not being stubborn. I’m not being anything except for a pawn of fate apparently because my whole damn future has already been decided for me!”

Ah. So that is the core of the problem. “Your future hasn’t been decided. That’s the whole point of me being here – so that we can make sure that things do happen as they originally went.”

“Oh, so I’m just supposed to accept the fact that my life becomes sickeningly domestic –“ he all but spits the word out like poison, “- and I’m trapped in a life that I never wanted?”

Felix narrows his eyes. “So you’re saying you don’t want this life? You don’t want peace for Fodlan? You don’t want to actually feel happy for the first time your goddamn life since Glenn died?”

“Who the fuck are you to say whether I’m happy or not? I’m happy when I have a blade in my hand, not when I’m being carted around like a… like a stupid trophy wife!”

“First of all,” Felix is proud of how level his voice comes out despite his urge to throttle the man in front of him, “I’m you, so of course I know what you want. I lived that life already.”

He pauses for a bit and then decides to go for a different angle – one that he knows has always worked with him when Sylvain tries to talk him down from stabbing some of the more pompous nobles during trade talks.

He takes a deep breath to ground himself. “But you’re still you. I can’t say I know exactly what you’re feeling, but I can imagine because at the core of everything, I know what I used to be like back then. And I also know that no matter what timeline I exist in, there will always be one thing that remains constant.”

It’s true. There is one truth that Felix knows will span the test of time and space no matter what version of himself he is dealing with.

“…Are you ever going to tell me what it is?” Young Felix mutters angrily, breaking their brief standstill.

Marriage really has made him soft, Felix thinks as he feels the corners of his mouth curl up in a smile. He can practically hear Sylvain in his head telling him about how he probably has his ‘dopey love face’ on right now and his eyes are all ‘melted amber’. What a sentimental fool.

“I think you know.”

“Ugh,” Young Felix scowls and turns away to glare at the bucket of swords in front of the blacksmith’s stall. It’s an admission if Felix has ever heard one, and he knows that his younger self does know.

Despite what the majority of Fodlan thinks, Felix is quite capable at reading people’s emotions. He knows when people feel uncomfortable or when they might need a kind word, but for the most part, he just doesn’t care enough to coddle them because he knows it will only do them more harm than good. Which is exactly why he decides to jump straight to the truth.

“It’s okay to love him, you know.”

Young Felix freezes. The stiff set of his shoulders hunch up almost protectively and he stubbornly stays facing away from him.

“I know…” Felix swallows the lump in his throat, “I know that it’s hard to even think about letting anyone in after Glenn – how hard it is to trust someone enough and believe that they won’t just leave you like everyone else inevitably does.”

Felix touches the obsidian ring on his left hand. He spins it absently and the smooth slide of the black band against his hand grounds him.

“Mother… Glenn… and then Father…” Felix has long made his peace with his father’s death, but there is still the faintest of stings in his heart when he thinks about it. “They all left us. But Sylvain has always been there. He was there when Mother died. He stayed with us for weeks after Glenn died. And he never pitied or babied us when Father died. He was just there.”

It’s a bit hazy, most memories from the war blur together honestly, but Felix does remember the days after the battle at Gronder with crystal clarity – those few painful days after his father’s sacrifice. No matter how many times he told Sylvain to leave, no matter how he yelled at him or tried to chase him away, Sylvain stood by him, steadfast and most importantly, without judgement.

He simply let Felix be.

And that was exactly what he needed.

“He’s the biggest idiot in Fodlan, but you and I both know that Sylvain does everything in his power to care for his friends and family.” Felix says it like it like he’s stating the obvious. “He’s also irresponsible and completely reckless, and Goddess knows that moron wouldn’t sustain half of his injuries if he just trained more, but he does remember our promise. And he’s doing his best to keep it while also making sure we stay alive.”

Felix steps forward so that he’s now standing side by side with his younger self. From his peripheral vision, he can see the furrowed brow and tightly pursed lips that he knows only happens when he begrudgingly agrees.

“I know you don’t believe in a fated future. Honestly, neither do I. But if there’s one thing I can tell you for certain, it is that loving Sylvain, and being loved in return, is the best thing that will ever happen to you.” Felix allows the warmth in his chest to bloom. While that feeling may have scared him once upon a time, he’s learned to become fond of it because he knows that the only reason he can feel this way is because he has come so far and conquered all his demons along the way.

“You’re disgustingly sentimental.”

“Maybe so, but I can still kick your ass.”

Young Felix snorts, “maybe then I’d actually have a good spar for once that isn’t against the professor.”

Felix laughs quietly, the heavy weight on his chest lifting just as the tension eases out of Young Felix’s stance. The truth is out there, and at least his younger self isn’t denying things anymore, but ultimately it will be up to Young Felix to decide the path he wants to take.

Felix Fraldarius is many things, but most importantly he is not a coward, which is why despite not having verbally settled the matter with his younger self, he knows with absolute certainty that Young Felix will never turn away from Sylvain, especially not when he’s been given permission to chase that happiness that he’s longed for.

----

Sophie decides very quickly that the market is her new favourite place. Forget the kitchens and all their yummy baked treats, the marketplace has all that and more.

Everywhere she looks, there is something new to see. Stalls upon stalls are lined with various treasures and fancy looking things that no amount of tears would help escape the wrath of her fathers if, by some stroke of bad luck, she is unfortunate enough to break them.

“Auntie Mercie! Look, Balloons!”

Sophie tugs on the healer’s hands eagerly, careful not to let go and wander off though there is a tiny whisper in her heart that tempts her so. The large inflated animals sway merrily in the breeze, and with the hustle and bustle of the environment around them, it almost looks as if they are dancing with excitement.

“Oh, aren’t they adorable? Would you like one, Sophie?” Mercedes claps her hands together, looking just as delighted as Sophie feels and soon, the trio of females is making their way through the surprisingly large crowd that has gathered for this lively gathering as a reprieve from the war.

“The fox,” Sophie pulls on Mercedes’ hand even more urgently the closer they get. “I want the fox, please, Auntie Mercie!”

“What about the cat, Sophie? That’s one is pretty cute.” Annette giggles. The red headed mage ducks and peers left and right at the variety of floating animals attached to the belt of the balloon vendor. There is already a gaggle of children forming around the man as he hands ribbons off to parents in exchange for gold, and although Sophie feels like she might burst if she has to wait any longer, she knows to wait her turn for the man to address her.

“Hello there, young miss. And what can I get for you today?” When the man finally turns his kind face towards her, Sophie cannot tear her eyes away from her goal. “Perhaps a bird? Or maybe a puppy?”

Sophie’s voice comes out breathy and excited. Reaching a hand up, she points eagerly, “the fox please. Can I have the fox?”

“Of course! Why don’t you reach out your hand for me and I’ll tie it to your wrist?”

Obediently, Sophie sticks out her left arm and watches, enraptured as the white ribbon loops delicately around her wrist, loose enough that she can slip her hand out if she really wanted to, but tight enough that the balloon will not fly away. Reaching into the small coin purse attached to her hip, Sophie carefully counts out the appropriate amount and hands them over.

“Thank you!” Sophie calls out after the vendor as Annette and Mercedes begin leading her away from the throng. It’s much too crowded now, but the little Fraldarius-Gautier cannot help but feel comforted by her floating guardian. Papa did always say that her Daddy was ‘sly as a fox’ after all, and it feels like her father is there with her when she sees it.

“Do you think Daddy will like it?” Sophie mumbles shyly when they’ve walked far enough that the screams of delighted children are nothing more than a whisper in the distance.

“I’m sure Sylvain will love it!” Mercedes says sweetly. The healer looks at Sophie with a mixed expression, almost like she is trying to solve a puzzle that she can’t quite figure out, before Annette interrupts her with a gasp.

“Mercie, there’s the sweets vendor that we’ve been looking for!”

Sweets? Sweets are good. That sounds like something Sophie is definitely interested in.

“Come on,” Annette urges. She grabs Mercedes by the hand and by extension, also Sophie, who is clutching onto her other one, and she drags them with haste towards a brightly colored stall laden with pastries and sweet treats of all kinds.

The saccharine smell wafting from the baked goods makes Sophie’s mouth water, but her eyes dart from one flamboyantly decorated cupcake to another, helplessly unable to pick a favourite.

“Hey! I remember you two!” The friendly looking lady behind the counter smiles as they approach. “You ladies came by my stall the last time I was in town, didn’t you?”

Annette flushes and nods. “The sweets were so good, we just had to make a return visit and pick up some more!” Despite her embarrassment, she is already reaching out to grab a fluffy looking cream pastry that looks more like a cloud than anything else.

“I’m so glad you like them, miss. Business has slowed down recently because of the war. Not much extra money to go towards frivolous things like sweets anymore, you know?” Sophie frowns. War? What war?  “Regular patrons like you are always appreciated.”

“Oh, and look at you, you sweet little thing,” Suddenly the attention is turned towards Sophie and any lingering confusion flies out the window. “What’s your name?”

“My name is Sophie!” With her fathers’ voices in the back of her head telling her to mind her manners, Sophie flashes her brightest smile and bobs gracefully into a quick curtsey. “It’s very nice to meet you. Your sweets look so yummy!”

“They’re the best in all of Fodlan, that’s for sure!” The kind looking lady proudly puffs her chest. “Have you ever tried some, little miss? Since it’s your first time, why don’t you go pick one and I’ll let you try it on the house.”

“Really?” Sophie’s eyes round with excitement. Daddy was right – being well mannered really does bring good things!

There are so many choices to choose from that it feels a little bit overwhelming, but eventually a beautiful deep red velvet cupcake topped with a mountain of chocolate frosting and a small candied cherry catches Sophie’s eye.

She likes cherries. She likes cupcakes. That’s two in one, isn’t it? It’s a perfect deal.

“Good choice, little miss. That’s our red velvet cupcake with black forest icing. It’s one of our more popular cakes; especially with the ladies.” The sweets lady holds out the cupcake to her and Sophie quickly lets go of Mercedes’ hand to receive it.

The monstrosity of a cupcake is so large that it takes Sophie both hands to hold it, taking great pains to not drop it nor smear any icing on her dress. She still remembers the scolding Papa had given her over the grass and mud stains in her dress a couple of weeks ago and is not eager to repeat that experience.

Above, her red fox sways gently to and fro, moving every time Sophie maneuvers her hands to nibble away at equal parts frosting and icing. She has long since tuned out from the conversation between the nice sweets lady and Mercedes and Annette, instead choosing to savor and enjoy her treat while it lasts.

Sophie is halfway done her cupcake when a raucous of children shrieking with delight steals her attention back in the direction of the balloon man. There, in the middle of a cluster of children stands a rather short and odd-looking man carting around a small trolley packed with stuffed animals, and at the very bottom, shoved against a dopey looking tiger and a rather ferocious lion is a black cat stuffy, complete with slitted golden eyes stitched painstakingly above some wiry whiskers and a kitten pout.

It’s the most wonderful stuffed kitty Sophie has ever seen. She has a present for Daddy, but what about Papa? Surely Papa would also like a gift – it’s only fair since Daddy gets one, right? Right. Her fathers had always taught her to treat everyone equally, and Sophie feels like that must include her family as well.

Annette and Mercedes are still engrossed in conversation with the Sweets Lady, but now their arms are full of bags laden with goodies they are no doubt brining back to the monastery. An itch like no other claws its way up Sophie’s chest and she really, really wants to ask for permission to go see the toy merchant, but she doesn’t want to interrupt what looks to be a very lively conversation.

One quick glance back makes the anxiousness double as the man begins to move towards an intersection across the courtyard from them. If he goes any further, he will turn the corner and Sophie will lose sight of him.

The gleeful squealing of laughter is getting farther and farther away now. She really should tell Mercedes and Annette where she is going, but she’s running out of time and Sophie will be absolutely heartbroken if her Papa is sad that he did not get a gift from her as well.

It will only be for a quick minute. She isn’t going very far. All she will do is go up to the merchant and buy the cat stuffy and return back to the sweets stall in no time at all.

Right?

.

.

.

In that split second, Sophie makes a decision.

She turns back towards the bustling market square and runs.

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

I'm so sorry for the delay with this chapter! I wanted to post it during my xmas holidays but I got so caught up with other things (read: sleeping) that I didn't get any writing done at all. I hope you all enjoy the chapter. Thank you again for being so patient with me and reading up until now. Things are about to get rocky so I hope you're all prepared.

The SylVix PDA thing was actually inspired by art from @emilyliuwho on twitter. You can see the post here.

If you would like to be added to a tag list, please PM me!!

Tag list: @pato-social

[spriteandnicotine]

The Thing You Love

Pairing-> Kai Chisaki xFem!  Reader

Genre-> Fluff

Warnings-> Drinking

a/n-> Yes; I understand Overhaul is a sociopath and a germaphobe but it is quite possible this <could> happen

My name is Y/N and from a young age I’ve known I was different from others. By simply looking at a person, I could tell what the thing/person they love the most in the world is. As I got older, I gained the ability to cast multiple illusions of what that person loves in order to surround and overwhelm them. The quirk only works on one person at a time, and only that person can see the illusions. The person I use my quirk on immediately forgets who I am. Once I told my father about my quirk, I could no longer cast illusions of my mother around him. Through trial and error, I discovered if I so much as utter what my quirk is to someone, they are immune to my illusions, so it is very important that I keep it a secret.

Because my quirk must be kept a secret, I decided against going to a high school that would help me harness my quirk. Instead, with my father’s permission, I worked to fight crime from the shadows my senior year. One of the most memorable days was when I helped out the hero known as Endeavor to take down Shin Nemoto. I cast illusions from the side of the room, and while Nemoto was freaking out, Endeavor took him down and placed him in handcuffs. Endeavor put the villain up against the wall and moved on to the next room. 

I took the chance to step out from the shadows. Nemoto turned to face me, and from the scrunching in the corners of his eyes, I could tell he was smiling. 

“And who do we have here?” he asked, an amused tone in his voice.

The prior battle being so short, I was still unsure of what his quirk was, so I responded, “Y/N.”

“And what’s your quirk?” he asked, chuckling softly. 

“I cast illusions of the thing or person people love the most, which I can find out by looking at someone,” I blurted out before I had the chance to cover my mouth with my hands. My eyes widened with horror. He must have the ability to make people confess anything-- but how?

As I finished saying this, a new figure appeared from the doorway. Recognizing the figure as a second villain, I tried to run from the room, but as I reached the doorway, I felt an immense pain where my foot meets my leg. I collapsed immediately, and upon looking down, realized that my foot had disintegrated. 

While I was screaming in agony, the figure made his way over to Nemoto and got rid of the handcuffs. He told him something quietly, but I could feel myself fading from consciousness. 

When I woke, I saw more villains with masks sitting around, waiting for me to regain awareness of my surroundings. 

Nemoto looked me dead in the eyes and asked, “How did you find us, and who do you work for?” 

Not wanting to give them any more intel, I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, thus muffling my words. 

“Kendo, tie her hands to the chair,” the man from before ordered.

Wanting to get out of there, I stood up, losing balance due to my peg leg, and fell into the glass coffee table which was directly in front of me. I felt strong hands on my back as the guy I can only infer is Kendo picked me up and sat me in the chair, tying my hands to the handles.

“I’ll ask you once again: How did you find us, and who do you work for?” Nemoto repeated, his cold eyes bore into my skull. 

“I spent months working with pro heroes who don’t know me. I work to fight for my own definition of justice. I worked from the shadows, and simply followed Endeavor on this case because it seemed different from the others I am used to working.” I responded, biting my tongue once I had blurted out the relevant information.

He quickly followed up with another question. “How does your quirk work?”

“If anyone knows what my quirk is, it won’t work on them. I can tell what they love the most still, but the hallucinations won’t work,” I responded, the copper taste of blood slowly spreading throughout my mouth. Shit. Now I can’t fool anyone in this room.

The man that took my foot dismissed everyone from the room, taking the opportunity to sit across from me. He undid my restraints slowly and carefully, keeping surgical gloves on the whole time, his plague doctor mask still covering his nose and mouth.

“My name is Chisaki. I’m the leader of the Shie Hassaikai. If you work under me, I will restore your foot, and if not I can and will take you out of existence.” As he said this, a feeling of dread filled me. 

My heart raced as I responded, “I’ll do it.”

A year later, the Shie Hassaikai decided to throw a party to celebrate the day I joined them. I made my way to the punch bowl and chugged as much of the beverage as I could manage. I sat in the corner, watching everyone celebrate around me. 

As the buzz began to kick in, Kai came down from his room. He was wearing a red suit with a white undershirt and black bowtie, along with the mask I had learned to love throughout the year.

I stood up and walked over to him, curtsying as a joke. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Chisaki?” I asked- nervous that he would say no due to his germaphobia. He shook his head no, his shoulder colliding with mine as he brushed me off.

Fine. If he won’t dance with me, I’ll show him what he’s missing out on. I went up to the DJ and asked him to play something I could head bang to. As the song came on, I turned to the closest person to me, dancing violently. Within the next few seconds, a mosh pit had formed, the only person not taking part being Chisaki.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Chisaki moving quickly towards me, being careful to avoid contact with others. I got out of the crowd and made my way to him, slowing down my movements. After the song ended, there was a slight pause before “Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis began to play. 

Chisaki surprised me by placing his gloved hands around my waist, causing me to blush. As my cheeks turned a strawberry hue, I placed my hands on his shoulders, not wanting the moment to end. 

As the song switched from chorus to verse, we turned in one swift motion and I lost my balance, stepping on his foot with all of my weight. I could sense his blood begin to boil. 

He picked me up, placing one arm in the crook of my knees and the other along my back. Due to the loud music, it appeared that no one noticed him stomping up the stairs. Once he reached the top, he swung open the door to his bedroom and slammed it shut behind him. He threw me onto the bed, his eyes hungry for revenge.

Trying to regain my composure, I propped myself up against the pillows, smoothing the skirt of my dress down. Without warning, he removed his glove and placed his hand on the same foot I had lost about a year ago.

Screaming out in pain, I pleaded, “Please Chisaki. I need my foot back. You don’t understand how much it hurts to not have a foot. I can’t walk. I can’t go anywhere. Are you just going to throw me back out to the streets?”

He scoffed, turning his back to me and walking towards his bathroom. He opened the medicine cabinet with his remaining gloved hand, pulling out a new surgical grade glove and snapping it into place. He quickly made his way to the door. After opening it, he turned around to look me in the eyes. 

“Chisaki,” I mumbled out between deep breaths. “How am I to help your cause if I can’t go anywhere?”

I could see the gears turning in his head as he mulled over whether or not I deserved to get my foot back. The phantom pains grew the longer I went without it. As I screamed out in pain again, salty tears streaming down my face, I could feel his warmth hover over me. His hand reached out to the knob and within mere seconds, my ankle and foot were back in place, the pain gone.

The feeling of the foot being replaced disgusted me, and I brushed past Chisaki, mumbling a, “Thanks,” as I made my way down the hall to my room. I locked the bathroom door, and turned on the hot water; then I grabbed a towel and washcloth from the cabinet next to the sink. 

Part of joining the Shie Hassaikai was that I had to move into the hideout, leaving behind my father and friends altogether. On the plus side, I got a nice bedroom with a built in bathroom, and all necessary things to survive.

I turned on the speaker in the bathroom, trying to drown out the music happening downstairs with my own. Soon after, I took off my clothes and hopped in the shower, taking special care to scrub my foot and the point where it joins my calf. 

After the shower, I got out and wrapped myself in my towel. I made my way to the sink, grabbing the toothbrush out of its holder and the toothpaste from the medicine cabinet, scrubbing my mouth from top to bottom, front to back.

While scrubbing my tongue with the brush in my dominant hand, I grabbed the floss from the still open cabinet in front of me. I followed up brushing my teeth with flossing, then brushing my hair after spraying a leave-in conditioner in it, making the room smell mildly of coconut.

Satisfied with my appearance, I turned off my music and unlocked the door, opening it to find Chisaki standing in the door frame without his gloves or mask on. His smooth face took my breath away, and he leaned in for a kiss. 

I wrapped my arms around his neck as our mouths collided, sparks of electricity shooting through my body. His tongue passed against my lower lip, and I opened my mouth. As our tongues melded together, I decided to use my quirk to look into his mind one last time. The thing he loves the most is no longer a quirkless world --- it’s me.

Taglist: @megalodon-writes

[submissivedjberry]

Back to You || Jolia

Tagging: DJ Berry & Jo Fabray ( @jofabray )

Date: August 8, 2020

Location: Jo’s Suite

Summary: DJ goes to Jo after her scene with Nate &  Mateo.

Jo

Jo was worried. There was no hiding it, no getting away from it, and no distracting herself from it. The sort of scene that DJ had volunteered herself for was intense, and it would require proper aftercare and a lot of attention. She trusted Nate - but knew less about Mateo. Presumably, since he had two claims, he was a capable Dominant, but DJ was hers, dammit, and Jo had spent the night obsessing over all that could go wrong. The blanket in her hand was wrung until it was a knotted mess, and whatever she'd been watching on TV all night was a complete mystery to her. She needed her girl in her arms, and the chance to look her over and be sure that she was safe. Then would come kisses, and cuddles, and all the attention the submissive could stand. As she waited for DJ to slip in the door of her suite, Jo shut her eyes in an effort to clear her head. It wouldn't do any good to be rolling with jealousy and worry when her girl arrived, and so that needed to go.

DJ

The scene with Nate and Mateo had been amazing. She had enjoyed being pushed in completely new ways. She was aching, but she was so happy. She had done well, as far as she could tell, and felt like she had grown through that scene. Returning to Jo's room took no time at all and she was there in the blink of an eye. She stepped inside and closed the door behind her, locking it as well. She moved further into the suite, smiling softly at the sight of her Domme resting on the couch. She dropped to her knees and then rested her chin on the Dominant's lap. She hoped that she didn't scare her.

Jo

Jo had half heard the door open, but she was comfortable and a bit lazy - so she simply waited for DJ to make herself known. Only when she felt a chin in her lap did she smile, hazy eyes slowly blinking open. "Hey, darlin' girl. Sorry, I just thought I'd shut my eyes for a few minutes. How was your scene?" Even though she was barely awake, Jo's attention was laser focused on DJ's face. She needed to be sure that everything was okay, and that the aftercare DJ might have needed had been on offer.

DJ

"Hi, my Miss. That's alright. You should rest if that's what you want." DJ mused softly, dark eyes focused on the Domme's face. She was so enamored with the blonde and she was so glad that Jo wanted her too. She didn't understand how Jo wanted her but she was so very happy and so grateful. "My scene was good. I'm a little sore, but they took good care of me." DJ assured the other with a soft smile.

Jo

"Not just yet," Jo shook her head. "We can rest afterwards, my girl, but first we give you a good once-over." She was glad to hear, though, that the scene had gone well and DJ had been looked after. "C'mon with me to the bedroom, and y'all can tell me more about it. You had fun?" She tried to keep her voice light, but it was hard to hide the little twinge of jealousy in her words. "Think it's somethin' you'd want to do again?"

DJ

"If you're sure." She wasn't going to push it or try to stop the Domme from looking her over. She may not officially be Jo's sub, but they were moving towards it. That, in DJ's mind gave Jo every right to want to look her over. "Yes, Miss. I had fun. I think it was a really good start to something that I could do more often." DJ said honestly, not wanting to lie at all. "I would like to do it with you at some point if you find someone you might want to do it with, my Miss." When they reached the bedroom, she eased off her clothes.

Jo

"Positive. There's no way I'd sleep now if I didn't at least give y'all a quick check. Need to make sure my girl's in good shape." She smiled as DJ described how much she'd enjoyed it, and that she'd like to do it again. "If I ever find anyone I'd trust with us both in that sort of scene, darlin' girl, I'll be sure and make it happen for ya." Once DJ was stripped, Jo kissed her gently on the top of her head. "Lie down for me, please. Anywhere you're feeling sore, or that I should look at first?"

DJ

"Keep me updated on that please, Miss?" DJ questioned, even though she knew there was a chance that she wouldn't get a chance to do it with Jo. She flushed slightly. "I'm mostly just a bit sore down below. They used a plug on me anally after Mateo opened me up with his fingers. But I really think it's okay, just not something my body has been used to in the past." DJ expressed honestly. "Other than that though, I'm feeling good."

Jo

"Of course, Dalia. I'd never consider bringin' someone else in to scene with us without a good long talk first. Our time is our time, and we'll keep that to ourselves unless there's someone I really think is worth lettin' be part of it with us." She nodded, taking that information in and wincing a little at the use of an anal plug. "Good girl. I'll just keep this quick, then, and you can tell me what you need - we can eat, if y'all would like, or rest first. Your choice."

DJ

"Our time." DJ agreed with a smile. She knew that there was a chance that Jo would connect with someone else and want to claim them, but it was nice to know that Jo would be open if that happened. She had had dinner before the scene, knowing that she wouldn't be let go until eleven, but having some fruit might not be a bad idea. "Do you still have some fruit, my Miss?" The submissive questioned, stretching out to let the Domme look her over wherever she would like.

Jo

Jo smiled in response. "I do, in fact. There's some grapes and some oranges, so we can help ourselves after." She didn't make too big a show out of examining DJ, but her careful gaze went from head to toe before giving her a gentle nudge so that the Dominant could check her other side. There were no visible marks, at least nothing that looked fresh, and Jo let out a soft sigh between her teeth. Part of her had been sure that Nate or Mateo might have done something that she'd have to take them to task for, but apparently that hadn't happened. "Looks all good, darlin'. If y'all want to slip a robe on, yours is just behind the door there. We can get some fruit and sit up for a little - thinkin' in here, or out on the couch?"

DJ

"That sounds perfect. I really like that idea." DJ agreed with a hum. She could already taste the sweetness and she was excited for the before bedtime snack. As she was tapped, she giggled softly and rolled over so that the Domme could look over the other half of her. Once she was finished, she eased herself onto her feet. "I think in here if that's okay with you?" She suggested and then moved to grab her robe, pulling it on and tying it closed before moving to the Domme and slipping her arms around her waist, nuzzling into her neck. "I had fun, but I'm glad you wanted me to come back tonight. I like falling asleep with you."

Jo

"That's just fine with me, darlin' - I'm very comfy in here with y'all, so it sounds like a really great plan to me." When DJ nuzzled into her, Jo's hands gently rubbed her back through the soft fabric of the robe. "I'm glad that you could - come back, I mean. I would have hated to have to wait until morning to see y'all after a scene like that. And I know just what you mean, because I very much like fallin' asleep with you too. I sleep better that way."

DJ

She was so glad that Jo felt the same way and that she wanted her here as much DJ wanted to be here. It caused a warmth to fill her up. "Did you do anything while I was gone? Have any company or anything?" DJ questioned, wondering if Jo kept herself busy at all over the last few hours. The feeling of the blonde's hands against her back was amazing, she felt so safe and so cared for.

Jo

Jo smiled, shaking her head. "Nah. I just curled up on the couch and had some tea, and that was about the extent of my excitin' evening until you got back." There wasn't a long list of people knocking down her door to spend time with her, and she didn't go out of her way to look for any either. "One intense scene between the two of us'll have to do for today."

DJ

“Sounds very relaxing, my Miss." DJ uttered gently, pulling back so that they could go get the fruit. "You don't have to scene with everyone you hang out with though, my Miss. Do you have anyone coming over tomorrow? Do I have to rush out at all?"

Jo

"It was, darlin' girl, thank you. A really nice evening, and the tea kept my mind off worryin' about y'all." Leading her out to the kitchen, Jo smiled an acknowledgement of DJ's words. "That's a fair enough point, my girl. But no, there's no one coming over - y'all can stay just as long as you'd like, we can get some extra sleep and take things easy." Opening the fridge, she found the fruit and set it out on the counter. "As much as you'd like, darlin'."

DJ

"You were worried about little ole' me?" Hearing that she didn't need to leave, she smiled softly. "Okay, Miss. But if that changes and you want to invite someone over, that's okay. I can leave so you can have someone other than me around." She teased, leaning over to kiss Jo's cheek. She reached in to grab some grapes as they were placed on the counter and she hummed. "So very good. Thank you."

Jo

Jo quirked an eyebrow. "I worry about you every time you're not here with me, Dalia. And that's not sayin' I don't want you to go other places or be with other people, but I will always worry until I see y'all again." She smiled as lips pressed to her cheek, reaching out to gently tousle dark hair. "I know you're teasin', but I'd never do that. Our time is our time." Jo put the grapes in a bowl along with a couple of oranges, reaching for DJ's hand. "You're welcome. I know how much a scene can take out of you, so fruit is a good idea."

DJ

"I'll always come back to you." DJ promised, meaning the words with every fibre of her being. She was Jo's. They may not have been at the point of a trial claim, but not that they were trying out the rules, it felt like it was becoming more and more real. And she loved that. "I know. But I also know that I just seem to claim your weekends and I can give you Sunday if you want to see someone else...like Tina." The Domme had been texting her earlier so she didn't know if she wanted time with her. "So delicious."

Jo

Her heart swelled a little in her chest, and she couldn't resist stealing a kiss. "And I will always be here waitin' for you," she promised. "Every single time." She led DJ to the bed and settled in, propping up the bowl between them. "If you claim my weekends, darlin', it's because that's what I want." She hesitated, considering her next words carefully. "I don't think Tina would have much fun over here. I know how much she struggles with the little things about the system, and there are things I can't let her get away with not doin'. Like kneelin' at the door." She popped a slice of orange into her mouth, chewing slowly. "I think she could use the company, but I'm still workin' on the best way to let her have it." Swallowing, she shook her head. "But this weekend, I'm all yours. Until classes Monday, if y'all want to stay that long."

DJ

The kiss was so welcomed, just like any other kiss she had ever received from the blonde. They were always perfect. She followed her to the bed, getting very comfortable. "I understand, Miss. Sorry." She breathed out, not wanting it to seem like she thought she could get Jo to do something she didn't want to. She hummed softly when she said that she wasn't sure if Tina would have fun over at Jo's, thinking over the dilemma that her Domme seemed to be facing. "I think she may be more willing if you ask her to do so nicely. You guys have been talking a bit right? So it's not like you're just hopping into asking something of her? Is there a lot more than that that you think she might be against?" She paused, biting on her bottom lip. "Sorry, I don't mean to overstep or anything."

Jo

"No apologies necessary, sweet girl. I knew what y'all meant, I just wanted to remind you that I always want you here with me. As many days of the week as we can. And it's not like y'all just show up and expect to walk in, we always talk first if I want you over, or if it's your request. So I just don't want ya to have to have to worry about it," she promised. Jo quickly shook her head. "You're not. I appreciate the advice, darlin'." She thought over DJ's words for a moment, considering what she had to say. "You've got a point there. I don't think it'd be out of the blue if I asked her to kneel." She considered the question. "Titles. She doesn't like those at all. But other than that, I don't think there's anythin' that would come up if we had some time in private."

DJ

"You could always just talk to her first and see if they were things she could get behind to spend time together. It's not like you don't have the right to ask for those things, my Miss." DJ expressed gently, resting her head on her shoulder. "You are amazing and I don't know why anyone wouldn't agree to things that would let them hang out with you." She realize she was essentially pushing Jo to hang out with another submissive and part of her was a little uneasy about that but she needed to trust in what she and Jo were building, otherwise she would go insane. Plus, she wanted Jo to make connections.

Jo

Jo nodded. "I do, you're right, but I try to be careful about pushin' people who have no interest in the system. It's not my place to change their minds, after all, or to try and...I don't know, fix them." Jo gently rubbed her back. "I don't think there'd be a lot of people out there who'd share that opinion, darlin' girl, but it means the world to me that y'all think of me that way." Her opinion of herself wasn't low, but her time in Lima had shown that she didn't seem to be very compatible with a lot of her fellow students.

DJ

"I get that, Miss. But just expecting a few things as a means of respect isn't really pushing is it? You're just setting up your expectations and if Tina doesn't like it...she doesn't have to come over, right?" The rubbing of her back caused a content sigh to fall from her lips. She cared about the Domme so much and felt so very comfortable in the Domme's arms. "If they looked around properly, my Miss...there's no way they wouldn't think the same." DJ argued lightly.

Jo

"No, darlin', that's true. I don't think that I ask for a lot, or that I'm a particularly demanding Domme. I guess what I worry about more is pushin' her away, because I really don't know how many people would be willin' to spend time with her if she can't do the basics. But in the end I guess all I can do is try." DJ's words pulled a little smile from her. "You're very kind to me, my girl. Thank you."

DJ

"All you can do is try. And I don't think you'll push her away, Miss." DJ said, though she did feel a little bit of something churn within her that Jo seemed preoccupied with not wanting to push Tina away. She swallowed, keeping herself nuzzled against Jo so that she couldn't see her face. "Just the truth, Miss."

Jo

Jo nodded. "We'll just have to see." She rubbed DJ's back in small circles again. "My darlin' girl." She pressed a kiss to DJ's head. "Still feelin' good about having a new rule? I mean I know it didn't change anythin' in your scene, but is it working for you to know that you have one.”

DJ

The kiss to her head had a bright smile forming on her lips. Jo always seemed to know what she needed, even if she didn't know why the submissive needed it. "Mmm, yes, Miss. I feel very good about having this rule. It's making things...what we are aiming for...feel more real."

Jo

"I'm glad to hear that. I feel very much the same - it's tough sometimes, I think, to remind ourselves while we're in separate rooms taking separate classes, or having nights apart, that we're still makin' progress toward the same goal. We're going to get there, and by the time we do we'll have some rules that we're both comfortable with." Jo thought for a moment. "For our next one, I'd like to propose something. A rule that would make you feel more grounded in a claim. Think y'all can do that for me?"

DJ

"I agree." She was glad that the blonde felt similarly to her. When Jo brought up having an idea for the next rule, she pulled back from the Domme and turned to rest on her back so she could look up at Jo, head now resting in her lap like it had been before she had gone for her scene. This time though, instead of on the long couch, her legs were hanging off of the bed. "Yes, my Miss. What do you have in mind?" Her eyes were wide, eager to find out what Jo might have planned next for them both.

Jo

Jo loved just how domestic, how loving and relaxed it felt as DJ laid in her lap. Brushing some fine hair away from her face, her smile at her submissive was soft and bright. "How would you feel about changing the way you address me? I think once you're mine officially, even in a trial, I'd like something more than Miss. That said," she hesitated. "I'm not sure that I like Mistress. So I was hoping you might have a better idea."

DJ

"Something more than Miss but not Mistress." She mused, biting down on her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I think I'll have to think about it, my Miss. I can slip a new one in every once in a while and then see how we both feel?" She didn't want to just choose, she wanted it to be perfect.

Jo

Jo nodded and smiled. "I think that's a very smart way to go, darlin' girl. We'll try them out and find somethin' that feels right to us both. My girl's so brilliant." Resting a hand on her forehead, Jo just took the sight of her in. "Also, I was going to ask: did you want to come up with some rules as well? I won't necessarily agree to them, but if you have ideas of what would make you more comfortable in a claim I think we should talk about those. No hurry, of course, but if anything comes to you."

DJ

When Jo asked the next thing, she hummed softly. How did she feel about coming up with some rules that she might feel comfortable with? It wasn't a bad idea, because she knew that at the end of the day, Jo would still be in charge of what rules she actually ended up having. "I think I like that idea too, Miss Jo." DJ agreed, reaching out to grab Jo's other hand and like their fingers as their hands rest over her stomach.

Jo

"Wonderful," Jo nodded. "I'll look forward to hearin' what y'all think of, darlin'." She gave their joined fingers a little squeeze. "How are you feelin'? Did you get enough fruit?" They'd likely sleep before too long, once the adrenaline of the scene had left DJ's body, but Jo wanted to be sure that she had eaten and got some fluids in her before that happened. It would help prevent any drop and hopefully allow DJ to rest.

DJ

"I'll definitely do some thinking. Promise." She would take this seriously. "Yes, Miss. I feel good. Just content. I'm with you, I'm very happy." DJ assured her, smiling up at the Domme. "I just want to make sure you are happy too." The submissive expressed, biting down on her bottom lip with a shrug of her shoulder.

Jo

"I never doubted you'd do otherwise, my girl." Jo tilted her head curiously. "Darlin', as long as y'all are here with me I'll be happy. I'm so proud to be lookin' to the future with you, and I know we're going to have a great trial claim. Then I can keep y'all here with me all the time, and that's going to make me happier still. I don't need more than you."

DJ

Her heart beat wildly in her chest and she felt tears well up in her eyes, turning her head to nuzzle into Jo's stomach and take a breath. She wasn't sure why she was so emotional, bur she felt it deeply.

Jo

Jo worried at the tears, but she trusted that if she'd said something wrong then DJ would tell her so. Instead she scratched gently at her scalp, giving their still-joined hands a little squeeze. "I've got you, darlin' girl. You're right here with me. And you're not goin' anywhere."

DJ

She took a few moments and then pulled back to look up at her. "I'm so happy you want me." She breathed out. She never would have imagined that she would have someone who wanted her this much so soon, or ever.

Jo

Nearly overcome with the wave of emotion that DJ's words caused, Jo had to blink a few times to clear her eyes. "Darlin' girl, I'm the lucky one. You're going to be so wanted, by so many people, and for some reason I can't fathom y'all want me."

DJ

When Jo sent the words back in her direction, she smiled widely. Jo was just so perfect. She breathed out slowly and leaned up to press their lips together, unable to stop herself in that moment. She didn't need anything more than that, just wanted the intimate touch.

Jo

Jo took her hand from DJ to cradle the back of her head, leaning down to make sure that the other woman didn't need to bend too far. She let the kiss linger for as long as DJ wanted it to, ceding control in the moment so that they could both get what they needed.

[snarkystarkybby]

: sweet like honey : Peter Parker x oc.  /two/

Hi, 

sorry about the long wait but heres chapter 2. please please please send me some feedback or requests or anything. 

hope you enjoy xo. 

The night went perfectly, and every time Honey found herself slipping into a daydream about the annoyingly perfect specimen that was peter parker, a giant neon sign screaming ‘HES GOT A GIRLFRIEND’ lit up nice and clear- effectively ruining her daydreams and annoying her to no end.

As annoying that his perfect lips and soft freckles were, she found herself completely entranced by his silky-smooth voice telling the anecdotes from his European trip. It sounded almost too amazing and so Honey attempted to distract herself with the cheesy pasta and toasted bread in front of her.

It was a stupid plan because her sudden crush on her Aunt and Uncles’ favourite apprentice? Intern? (she wasn’t sure what he actually was, but it was currently irrelevant) was sending nervous signals throughout her whole body like lighting and she wasn’t sure if at any given second she would either collapse or combust. consuming anything that wasn't small sips of water seemed sickening.

Thankfully, she made it through dinner without embarrassing herself and she couldn’t have been more thankful when Morgan asked if they could have dessert. Honey leapt from her seat and rushed towards the kitchen, Morgan hot on her heels and chattering about something the older girl couldn’t quite focus on.

Honey knew exactly what was happening from the moment she stood up. Her heart was racing, her hands were both freezing cold and clammy and no matter how hard she tried her lungs seemed to repel all intake of oxygen. Her body slid down the counter and crouched on the floor and when she felt the gaze of her younger cousin she managed to gasp out,

“I’m fine morg- please don’t tell your mom” the girl nodded almost too calmly and pushed a cup of water towards Honey.

“Honey- Honey it’s okay this happens to dad sometimes just focus on something happy” for a seven-year-old Morgan was incredibly clever and understanding. Something about that hurt Honey- kids shouldn’t see this stuff.

It felt like a lifetime but in reality, it only took a few minutes for Honey’s heart to return to normal and oxygen to return to her lungs. She felt a rush of dizziness as she stood up, but she shook it off- this had happened before, she would get over it. Morgan sent her a sad smile as Honey neglected to mention the situation and just prepared the cupcakes onto a plate; which Morgan then happily carried out.

Pepper interrupted the conversation between the three as the girls walked back towards the table- cupcakes at the ready.

“is everything okay- what took so long” Honey’s panicked face gave it away buy no one seemed to comment on her lie,

“we had to trial our treats before we served it- it’s the rules of baking” Morgan seemed to realise what her cousin was doing and just nodded and smiled, helping to settle the tale. The little brunette girl handed everyone a cupcake before digging into one herself.

Honey wanted to eat it but the still ever so present nerves and overwhelming knowledge of her recent anxiety attack caused her stomach to turn and she decided that nausea and cupcake probably weren’t the best combination.

Food was finished and it was time for Morgan to go to sleep, she insisted that Peter took her to bed and he just smiled and whisked her away towards the elevator. Which was how Honey found herself sitting next to Tony on the sofa being at the receiving end of his worried glances.

“what really happened in the kitchen?” She couldn’t find it within herself so lie so instead she just looked away and shook her head,

‘it was nothing- it happens all the time” her stomach flipped as she spoke. She never spoke- to anyone, not about this at least.

“Okay if you’re sure. if you need to talk to someone, I know I’m not the most serious person but I can be- or Pep, just as long as you’re okay” He sounded so sincere but something within her said he was lying so she felt herself closing up even more. Something within her mind screamed retreat and so she did.

“I’m really sorry Morgan had to see that it won’t happen again, thank you for dinner but I don’t feel well I’m going to head up to bed” she stood up and walked out ignoring Tony’s cries for her to stop, politely thanking her aunt for dinner and getting into the elevator.

As she pressed the button and waited for her floor, she felt the tears welling up- she hated this, why did she have to cry like a baby at the drop of a hat. Somewhere between her self-pitying and destructive thoughts, the elevator doors opened. Standing on the other side was Peter dreamboat Parker staring directly towards her reddened cheeks and streaky mascara.

Her voice croaked slightly as she coughed before pushing back the hair which had fallen in front of her face,

“I’m so sorry I’m not feeling well-, but it was really nice to meet you”

He seemed frozen and confused which only fuelled her anxiety.

Perfect, now he’s going to remember her as Pepper’s emotionally unstable weirdo niece.

There goes any chance she ever had with him. Honey rushed through the halls to her room- dramatically tossing herself onto the too-soft-silky-sheets-from-heaven and attempted to relax and forget about the night.

At the same time, Peter made his way back downstairs to the living room to see Pepper walking away -to her office he presumes-  and Tony on the sofa, the look of confusion on his face told Tony all he needed to know. So, he figured to save Honey from any embarrassment and because it wasn’t his place to explain he told Peter she was having issues with a boy from her hometown which Peter accepted and didn’t mention again.

Tony couldn’t help but notice the slight falter in Peter’s demeanour, disappointment? Anger? Sadness? when he mentioned Honey and another boy in the same sentence so partially for his own curiosity and mostly because he actually cared he asked Peter about MJ, who Tony realised had conveniently been left out of any stories about his travels.

“talking about love lives how is Wednesday” Tony tried to keep it light-hearted, but the second MJ was mentioned Peter looked like he would breakdown and cry, instead he let out a sarcastic laugh and huffed,

“I thought it was perfect- I thought we were perfect” Peter slumped back into the sofa and  ran his fingers across the back of his neck,

“in the last week of the trip she seemed off and I got so worried I didn’t know what wrong-” Tony was hadn’t meant to interrupt peter, but his mouth moved quicker than his brain,

“oh god you didn’t knock her up did you” Peters's eyes widen, and he shook his head as if to say no, tony sighed.

“thank god I thought I was going to be a grandparent” he let out a worried laugh but still peter seemed uneasy.

“We got home early this morning and went straight to her apartment ‘cause her parents are out of town, and she just sat me down and said it had to be over” Tony’s stomach sunk- MJ and Peter had been together since their school trip to Europe before sophomore year and now almost three years later a trip to Europe together was their downfall. It had to be some sort of sick joke.

“she said that we should end on a high note because why waste a summer” peter wiped hot tears from his cheeks as she spoke,

“she’s moving away for college and I’m staying here, and it wouldn’t work- she said she needed to experience life by herself, no ties” Tony had his hand running soothingly up and down peters back as she spoke through sobs and shallow breaths,

“three years and all she could say was that I was tying her down”  Peter accepted Tony’s firm hug and retreated into his arms trying to calm himself down but after suppressing his emotions he had to let it out.

“you know what Pete, I know it hurts but I doubt it was an easy decision on her behalf- you have to accept her choice” “I-i just don’t want to replace her, ill never find someone else like her” “you don’t have to replace her- you just have to find someone who you love in a million different ways. she was your first love Pete; you’ll never forget her but someday you will find the girl who makes it hard to remember anyone but her”

“is Pepper your girl?”  Tony just nodded and smiled. Pepper was his girl and he wanted nothing more than for Peter to find his. The poor spider-kid deserved it after all.

Peter ended up staying the night after he and Tony binged watched Star Wars in an effort to lighten the mood- it worked for the most part.

And when he woke up on the sofa, cold toes and yawning to be met with the gorgeous caramel eyes and blonde messy bun he realised that maybe Tony was right. So, he sat there secretly watching Honey attempted to cook pancakes? Crepes? (he wasn’t sure) with Morgan who sat on the kitchen counter laughing at the older girls’ failed attempts to flip the food, he took note of her, how she smiled at every word Morgan would say or how her golden hair would be constantly pushed away from her face.

He hated the guilty feeling deep in his stomach he felt from just observing her- he had only just been dumped and was literally sobbing about it last night shouldn’t he feel sad at least. Tony had mentioned Honey having a boyfriend so he shouldn’t get too caught up on her for one it was creepy, and he was a mess -she didn’t need his damage.

“Hey Peter, you like pancakes?” her melodic voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he followed the sound,

“yeah sounds great”

[leona-x-lancaster]

[ ZENDAYA COLEMAN, CISFEMALE, SHE/HER] — If you’re strolling Derry today, you might see [ LEONA LANCASTER ] along the way! The [ TWENTY-TWO ] year old can usually be found at [ BARTINI as HEAD BARTENDER / OCCASIONAL DANCER ], when they aren’t busy with [ GETTING HIGH and PARTYING ]. I hear they seem to be [ LAID BACK and GENUINE ], but they are also rumored to be [ SARCASTIC and RECKLESS ].  I’m sure they’d never admit it, but they’re terrified of [ DEEP WATER ]

TW: Bipolar Disorder, Depression, Bullying, Attempted Murder, Insomnia, Eating Disorder, Drug Abuse, Alcohol Abuse

Basic Info

Full Name: Leona Alexis Lancaster Nickname(s): Lee, Little Lion Age: 22 Occupation: Head Bartender at Bartini Dance Club Birthday: Sept. 13th Zodiac: Virgo

Family

Father (adopted): Alistair Lancaster Father (adopted): Antonio Hernandez-Lancaster Birth Mother: Name is Unknown. She was a teenage mother, though, and possibly a drug addict herself Sibling(s): Older (adopted) Brother

Physical Appearance

Height: 5′10′’ Weight: 114 lbs Hair Color / Type: Dark brown / Naturally curly. She sometimes straightens it Eye Color: Dark Brown Piercings: Two piercings each on the right and left earlobes; once on the right and left cartilages

Wardrobe examples: X

Personality

(+) Independent, Genuine, Down to Earth, Genius, Fiercely Loyal (-) Unrestrained, Wild, Impulsive, Reckless, Sarcastic

She’s pretty nice to almost everyone, and tries her best not to judge others for their situations, seeing as she’s not exactly perfect herself. She’s very chilled and down to earth, and is super, SUPER smart but tries her best to hide that from people, because of all the hate she got during her high school years.

Has no restrains at the moment, and is very reckless and impulsive because of that. She gets high and drunk all the time and doesn’t really care too much what everyone else thinks of it.

VERY sarcastic, but moreso in a humorous way than her just being truly nasty (she doesn’t really have a malicious bone in her body)

Her Demons

She suffers from: Drug Addiction, Alcohol Addiction, Bipolar Depression, Insomnia, and an Eating Disorder.

She’s well aware that she is a fucking mess (she uses that phrase quite a lot to describe herself), and while she cares, she has no plans of actually stopping. Mostly because she doesn’t know how and also because she loves the feelings her highs give her far too much.

She lies and says that it’s only for fun and she could and will stop, but…she’s lying through her teeth.

She suffers from bipolar depression, which contributes heavily to her substance abuse. Leona was diagnosed at a very early age, and was on a thousand different kind of meds, as the doctors tried to figure out what the hell was wrong with her. These days, she’s opted out on her medication for actual drugs, to help her cope with her insomnia and severe depressive episodes.

She has very low self esteem and she has no self worth. You could tell her that she’s the prettiest girl in the room and she wouldn’t believe you. This comes from her school years where she was bullied severely, and from her depression. She was called every horrible name under the sun and she’s come to believe them all.

She’s a literal genius, but the bullying and hazing that she suffered in high school has caused her to hate that about herself. Her mind is always busy, racing with thoughts and she finds it so hard to turn it off when she’s sober…so she gets high to help her do it for her.

Due to her mind always constantly on autopilot, she suffers from insomnia, as she finds it extremely difficult to sleep because her brain just won’t shut off.

Her drug (and alcohol) addiction is getting more and more out of control. It’s pretty obvious, just looking at her most days, that she’s not okay.

You will catch her staring blankly at the walls, unresponsive. That can be really unnerving to witness, because her eyes look dead. This is her at the peak of her high.

She’s always had an aversion to food, but it’s gotten worse as her addiction to drugs got worse. Leona was practically starving herself. She hardly ever eats anything, even when she feels hungry which is pretty rare - it’s only ever the bare minimum. Her appetite is just non-existent and oftentimes when she does pick at food, her stomach just can’t handle it and she ends up getting nauseous.

She’s always been pretty thin and frail looking, but she’s getting thinner by the day. She doesn’t notice.

BIGGEST FEAR

Thalassophobia -  is the persistent and intense fear of deep bodies of water such as the ocean\sea, river or lake - any kind of body of water that seemed vast, dark, deep, and dangerous.

When Leona was thirteen, she had been invited by a few of the older girls that she went to school with to go sailing along the harbor. Getting the invite had been decidedly odd, since these girls had been her main tormentors for the last several years - ever since she had moved up to their grade (she’d skipped three grades). They’ve done nothing but bully and terrorize her, for seemingly no reason other than the fact that she was really smart - much smarter then them, and that seemed to offend them. Now all of a sudden they were acting all nice and as if they were her friends...it was really weird. 

While she was suspicious, her dads on the other hand had been been thrilled and even encouraged her to accept the invite, hoping that it meant that she was starting to make new friends, after years of having just a few close ones from her childhood. Leona hadn’t told them about her bullies so it wasn’t like they were to know, so reluctantly, she had agreed to go.

The first two hours on the boat was fine, if not really awkward. Always perceptive, Leona could see right through their phony smiles and friendly behaviors - they were definitely up to something. It wasn’t until the sun started to go down, that their demeanor changed, like someone had just flipped their on switch.  They lunged for her and started physically beating her, taking turns hitting her and kicking her and tearing at her clothes. Then the leader of the three - Lizzie - bound Leona’s hands in rope while the others held her down.

Once she was bound, Leona was hauled to her feet and then pushed overboard, where the fell into the depths of the open, ice cold waters of the Atlantic ocean. Though she was a rather strong swimmer, with her hands bound Leona was helpless and so she was quick to sink below the surface, all the while struggling to undo the bindings.

It was only thanks to Lizzie being terrible at tying knots that saved Leona’s life. It took a while, but she was able to loosen up the rope enough to slip her hands free, and she was able to make her way back up to the surface, with only just a few short seconds of breath to spare. When she re-surfaced, she saw that the harbor patrol had spotted the entire incident and had been quick to respond. Lizzie and her two accomplices - Marisa and Erin - were immediately apprehended. Upon seeing Leona floating precariously in the water, the officer was quick to throw a life preserver to her and helped pull her out and into the squad boat.

As all three girls were sixteen, they were tried in court as adults and sentenced to jail for attempted murder for several years. They would likely head to prison once they turned 18.

Due to this very traumatic incident, Leona has since been extremely terrified of deep, and dark water. Although she is adamant able never getting on another boat for the rest of her life, deep down she really wants to conquer her fear. She’d always loved going sailing on her dads’ boat and misses being on the water, but the thought of actually being on one and being surrounded by the wide, open sea just terrifies her to no end.

This incident is widely known around Derry, so the locals who’ve been in town for at least nine years would have certainly heard about it and the trial of the three older teen girls that followed. It was on the news - TV and newspaper alike.

Interests / Likes / Dislikes / Habits

She practically lives at Bartini, the local night club. She works there as head bartender, and has been there for a year, and it’s never really seemed like work to her. She thrives on the atmosphere of the place, and if it weren’t for closing times during the daylight hours, she’d likely spend all day there if she could.

Getting drunk and high constantly, practically every other day (she goes on day-long benders sometimes)

Likes going to a good party, and has a pretty good ‘partydar’ - in which she tends to find parties quite easily. She was such a good girl in high school, and now that she was an adult and living in her own place with her roommates, she felt free to do as she pleased.

Gets along with most everyone, especially those she considers her ‘inner circle’ - those that she’d ride or die for.

She’s a LOT more social now as a young adult than she ever was as a teen, and she actually enjoys being in the thick of things and having a good, strong network of friends or just friendly acquaintances all around her. Because of her job at Bartini and the fact that she spends ninety percent of her time either working down at the club, partying elsewhere in town or going on walks and bike rides around Derry at any give hour, she has a tendency to run into a lot of the locals. Because of that, a lot of people knew who she was, and she them.

 Of course, she knows that the incident with her near death was also a well known and talked about event several years back so most already knew who she was to begin with. She HATED being known as the Derry girl who was nearly murdered by some of her classmates - it was a terrible stigma and tended to bring back horrible memories whenever it was brought up. She much preferred being associated with her job or as the local wanderer.

LOATHES bullies, given her past with them. She refuses to be a victim, and she will not stand to see others being one as well.

LOVES to cuddle, and is super clingy to those she considers her closest friends and family members. Her friendship comes with it’s own little warning label - Warning: Don’t be friends with Leona Lancaster if you don’t like to snuggle.

Has a beautiful singing voice, and isn’t shy about breaking out into song at random, and sometimes in rather inappropriate places.

Has a fantastic fashion sense. She absolutely loves fashion and therefore, loves shopping. The part of her paychecks that don’t go towards her bills and drug addiction, goes towards her rather expansive wardrobe.

Biography

Was actually born in Chicago, IL., to a drug addicted teenage mother (although this fact is unknown to her) who wanted nothing to do with her after she was born. She was put up for adoption almost as soon as she came into the world.

Luckily, she was adopted just a short time later (at six months old) by Alistair and Antonio Lancaster. They were a happily married gay couple from Maine who were looking to adopt a second child. They already had a son, who that they had also adopted.

Leona grew up, alongside her older brother in Derry, Maine. In her early years, she was a happy child, easily making friends with the other locals who were close to you own age. She had a few neighbors who she quickly became besties for life with. To this day, adult Leona cherished every single one of them, and thought of them as an extension of her family.

From a very early age, it was clear to everyone in her family that she was highly intellectual - like, genius level smart. Leona had e a much higher IQ than most her age, and she quickly found her classes to be a breeze - so much so, in fact, that she was inevitably forced by both her parents and the school administrators to skip several grades. She found the entire experience mortifying and traumatic, as all the kids she now had to surround herself with were much older and bigger than her. She hated it.

Of course, being the smallest and youngest in her class resulted in several painful years of humiliation and bullying. Mainly from three specific girls - Lizzie, Erin and Marisa. They were three years older than her and tormented her throughout jr and high school. 

At the age of 13, her three main tormentors were arrested and locked away after nearly drowning Leona. The entire town was quick to learn about the attempt on her life and the subsequent arrest of the girls responsible, but it didn’t make her last year of high school any easier. 

 By the time her high school graduation came around, the then 14-year-old had been ecstatic and relieved to finally be leaving high school behind.

When her dads tried to push her into going to college right after, Leona had adamantly refused to go. She wanted to wait until she was 18 or even older, determined not to have another repeat of her high school years, where she was several years younger than everyone else.

When she finally turned 18, instead of heading to college like she said she would, Leona moved out of her dads’ house and headed to Portland, tired of being in Derry, and feeling like she needed to escape the stigma that still followed her around.

While in Portland, she became roomies with a few of young adults who were quick to introduce Leona into the life of drugs and alcohol and sex, and it hadn’t taken her long to get addicted. Not just to the substances, but to the lifestyle of partying and not giving a fuck about anything. With such an overactive and constantly running mind, she found that if she took enough drugs and drank enough alcohol, that her brain would finally be able to slow the hell down and be quieted, if only temporarily - sometimes enough to let her sleep a full eight hours, other times it was just a couple, but she'd honestly take what she could get.

She stayed in Portland for two years. At the age of 21, she attended a mixology course, and when she was finished Leona decided to move back to Derry, feeling homesick. She hadn’t seem her brother, or dads or any of her friends in the two years she’s been gone and she missed them terribly. 

Instead of moving back in with her dads, though - in fear of them discovering her addiction and forcing her into rehab - she became housemates to Prissy Goldwyn, one of her childhood best friends and someone she still remained close friends with throughout their teen years. It was an easy friendship to maintain, since Prissy lived just a few houses down from hers.

Her dads may not know about her plethora of problems with alcohol or drugs, but her brother certainly did and worried for her a great deal. The two were very close and he didn’t like that she was destroying herself and wasting her potential.

- W A N T E D   C O N N E C T I O N S -

Dad #1 - her adopted father. (50+, Hug Jackman, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Robert Downy Jr, Idris Elba, UTP) Any ethnicity

Dad #2 - her OTHER adopted father. (45+, Oscar Isaacs, UTP) Any ethnicity, although I did picture him being of Latino descent.

Older Brother - Adopted. (28-32 - Ryan Guzman (first pick), Logan Lerman (second pick), Diego Boneta, UTP) He can be of any ethnicity, as well.

Childhood Friends (CAN BE MULTIPLE PEOPLE) - friends she’s had since she was very young. They used to play together all the time in their youth, and have either remained in touch over the years, or they’ve lost touch (since Leona ended up skipping several grades - she left 3rd grade behind to go into 6th).

Co-Workers - either someone who is also a bartender for Bartini Dance Club, or who works there as like a dancer or server or something. Leona does fill in as a dancer some times, when they’re short-staffed and need a fill-in.

Drug Dealer - she will definitely need a drug dealer around town. Whether they have a good rapport with one other, or it’s literally just a business exchange - either way will work and would be welcome.

Inner Circle - those that she considers “her people”. The ones she would do anything for, and who would do anything for her in return. She loves these individuals dearly and with her whole heart, and she is fiercely protective of them - whether they’re in need of her protection or not - but also they’re the ones she’s the most cuddly and clingy to.

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 3x02-- The One Inspired by Roy Cohn

Thoughts under the cut!

I’m predicting it now: Despite the title of the episode, there is going to be MORE than one episode “inspired by Roy Cohn.” Lucky us.

We start off with Roland Blum, a new character I can already tell the Kings are enamored of, injecting something into his face while standing pantsless at a mirror. I will never care about these eccentric, obnoxious characters who take up more screentime than they need to. The only reason I don’t hate this scene is that it’s an effective introduction to the character.

Cut to: Maia in court. Someone’s allowed Maia to argue a case by herself! Her opening arguments are shaky and don’t land with the jury. I’ve also listened to them three times now and can’t make myself pay close enough attention to actually understand what happened, other than that a reporter was murdered (the return of “kill all reporters”), there may have been a hit man, and there are two separate defendants being tried at once.

Maia also calls this overly complicated and I’m not sure what is complicated. The idea of a hit man? How is that complicated? Whatever. Case stuff. The important thing is that the jury is as moved by Maia’s argument as I am.

Maia sounds like a student at their first mock trial. This girl made it three years in a law firm?!

Roland walks in during Maia’s argument and distracts everyone. Maia keeps going. That can’t be the best move.

Hey, it’s Matan Brody! Hi Matan!

Roland’s opening arguments are way more captivating than Maia’s. They’re also nonsense and idk much about the law but what he’s doing can’t be legal???

I think most of what I’m going to have to say about the Roland/Maia subplot is: (1) Ugh, he’s annoying and there’s too much of him. (2) At least he works better than past attempts at the rule-breaking disrupter characters (like Damian). I can actually see what the writers are trying to do and he’s doing that one thing effectively. He’s just ONLY doing that one thing. (3) Maia going to ~the dark side~ because no one takes her seriously when she follows the rules and puts in no extra effort would be kind of a compelling Maia plot, but also, it’s still a Maia plot and we could just give Lucca and Liz more screentime. Hopefully that makes this recap fast to write.

Julius brings in a candidate for the divorce law position. He’s another conservative lawyer, and Julius is optimistic about his chances.

And the candidate-- Geoffrey-- seems to get along with the partners. He doesn’t get along with Lucca, though. I thought Lucca was offered and basically told she had to accept this position last week? Did she turn it down and get put on a hiring committee? Was the role supposed to be temporary?

Anyway, Lucca’s noticed that most of Geoffrey’s clients are men. He blames his current firm for that.

Diane leaves the interview to talk to Marissa. Marissa’s got dirt on Eric and Don’s safari (which I didn’t think we’d hear about again!): They waited 48 hours to take Kurt to the hospital so they could shoot a giraffe.

Adrian is in favor of hiring Geoffrey and notes he’ll bring in 6 divorce clients. For those of you who have more legal expertise than I do, what does this mean? Is there any business in a divorce once it’s finalized?

Lucca disagrees, but doesn’t say anything until Liz specifically asks for her opinion (which, I imagine, Liz does partially because she wants to hear from Lucca but mostly because she knows that Lucca will voice something it wouldn’t be politically advantageous for Liz to say). Lucca thinks they should look for “someone who doesn’t only look at the men in the room.” Oof.

Julius decides to play rank for the second time in two weeks-- this is a “partner-level decision.” But Liz again asks for Lucca’s opinion to be heard, and says they should keep looking.

After the meeting concludes, Liz takes Lucca aside and asks her if she wants the job. Lucca says she doesn’t know. “Well, decide, because this guy is way ahead of you and I’m gonna have to vote for him unless you can make a strong case against it,” Liz says. I love how direct Liz is in this scene. She’s giving Lucca an opportunity but also making it very clear that Lucca can’t waffle on this decision or take her time.

Before he leaves, Geoffrey drops an important bit of information: Julius is at the top of the list for a federal judgeship. Oooh.

Adrian isn’t pleased with Liz. He wants to know why she encouraged Lucca to “rip into [Geoffrey] Payton.” Offering a valid criticism of a potential hire is “ripping into” someone? Okay, Adrian.

“Geoffrey Payton makes sense for this firm, Liz,” Adrian says in that mansplainy tone he so often adopts. I think he’s done it to male characters too, but he has a habit of adding the name of the person he’s talking to at the end of a sentence where he states his opinion as fact. Does Geoffrey Payton make sense for the firm? Maybe to him. But Liz doesn’t need to be told that.

Liz isn’t happy that Geoffrey is conservative. “Liz, you’re bringing politics into this in a way that’s not…” Adrian starts. Liz cuts him off to remind him that politics is already in this (she’s right).

“I’m trying not to let politics get in the way of moving the firm forward,” Adrian explains. “And this is our first hire since our fresh start, so I am having a second look, okay?” Liz counters.

“So. I guess we’re back to ‘who are we?’” Adrian says. Well, yeah, because all you said was that you didn’t have a past. “I don’t think we ever left it,” Liz replies.

“But you do agree we should be looking ahead to the future?” Adrian questions, even though that was Liz’s idea in the first place. (Also that’s supposed to be italicized; I don’t think Tumblr has been keeping my italics when I copy this out of Word. Apologies for confusion.)

Liz sees right through Adrian: “A future where Trump wins in 2020.” Adrian acts like that’s ridiculous, but Liz keeps going: “I see what you’re doing. These associates you’re trying to hire, and this partner. You want to bring in more conservative voices.”

“We’re hiring a matrimonial attorney, Liz,” Adrian explains in his explaining voice. He says politics don’t matter. But Liz (correctly!!!) insists that this is about the makeup of the firm, that this is “exactly WHO we are.” She’s right. (I am now using ALL CAPS instead of italics for emphasis, but only when I remember lollol.)

How did Liz Reddick become my favorite character on this show!? (Well, maybe tied for #1 with Lucca.) I find everything Liz does interesting. She’s smart, she’s strategic, she’s layered and flawed, and she’s so well-written and well-acted. I didn’t think a character introduced as Alicia’s enemy could be someone I like so much, but I was wrong.

(It’s interesting to me that Liz and Alicia were ever rivals. I can see it, because I think they have very different personalities and approaches even if they could agree on many things in many settings. I would also guess that law school Alicia was quiet and reserved and law school Liz was opinionated and confident. Wouldn’t surprise me if Liz was the type to constantly offer Alicia unsolicited advice about how she should live her life (or argue in court) when Alicia was doing just fine without her. I don’t think Liz does that NOW, but it’s something I could very easily see young Liz doing. And young Alicia probably acted distant because she didn’t know how to react. And now back to the show instead of whatever Liz/Alicia related tangent I’ve somehow gotten myself onto.)

Then Liz QUOTES AUDRE LORDE as part of her explanation for why a fresh start and hiring Trump supporters are not the same thing. Liz!!!!!!

Adrian acts like he has the same goal as Liz and a different approach to achieving it, but I’m not sure he does. Where’s the dismantling of the master’s house (mentioned in the Lorde quote) in Adrian’s plan? What I’m hearing is that the firm is going to become more white (based on promos) and more conservative, which will benefit… the firm. How is that going to dismantle anything? Seems to me like Liz wants to create a firm with a mission (that’s also profitable) and Adrian wants profit (and sure it’s nice to be on the right side of political issues when possible).

Goodie. The case is back. As I mentioned, this is my third time through the episode. The first time through I was mildly interested. Second time through I was checking my phone. Trying to write about this? Mehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Blum is obnoxious and ridiculous and SO LOUD and accuses Matan of being the killer, and Maia looks annoyed and doesn’t know what to do.

Even though I wouldn’t wish this man on Alicia, he’s the kind of character she would’ve been able to deal with and hold her ground against. Maia talks back.

Diane scrolls through Eric’s Instagram, dismayed. When she gets home, Kurt is tying ribbons on beer bottles because they’re celebrating his new job at the VA. It’s a job that will keep him in Chicago, so he can stay!

Kurt calls Diane “Mrs. McVeigh” which is kinda cute and kinda weird and since Diane doesn’t have a problem with it I don’t have a problem with it.

Diane and Kurt are ADORABLE together and I love how much we’ve already gotten this year of them just being a couple. I said repeatedly throughout TGW’s run that one character asking another, “How was your day?” was more meaningful to me than any steamy sex scene or passionate kiss or moment of tension. These scenes are why I said that. Diane seems like a different, happier, more playful person when she’s around Kurt. Watching Diane and Kurt flirt in their own bedroom tells me so much about why they work as a couple.

The only catch to Kurt’s new job? He was recommended by Eric and Don. Diane asks why it took them so long to get him to the hospital, and Kurt shakes it off like it’s nothing.

“I’ll be doing what I think is important, and it allows us to be together,” Kurt explains as he says he’s taking the job. “And that trumps everything else.” “Oh, don’t use that word!!!” Diane screams. I. FEEL. THAT.

I like how there are two cases filled with guns in Diane and Kurt’s bedroom/sitting room. The rest of the room is so completely Diane and then there are guns.

Diane takes out her aggression at aikido.

In the hallway at court, some man comes up to Maia and starts yelling at her about how much money he’s lost. “My money went to your pocket, you fucking Rindell!” he accuses. The way he says “you fucking Rindell!” makes it sound like “a Rindell” is an insult and not a name and it amuses me just a little.

“It was my father. It wasn’t me,” Maia fights back. You’d think she’d have found a better way to address this by now. It’s been two years and being defensive cannot possibly be the best strategy. She could try, “I know. I’m sorry, and that’s why I turned my dad in to the feds.” Or just not engaging.

Blum comes to her rescue. Now he’s intrigued: he’s gross, so he RESPECTS Maia’s cartoon villain father. He hadn’t realized Maia was a Rindell, since in the time between last episode and this one she changed her name on her stupid website to “Maia Hanson”.

It’s time for another soliloquy!!! It’s Lucca’s turn and I’m pleased to report that this week, we are talking bruise free!

“So what do I do, Joseph? Huh?” she addresses her sleeping baby. Then she starts singing and in the process gets a song stuck into my head.

“If I fight to take over the divorce practice, I have to put in even more hours, which takes me away from you for even longer. And I love being with you. Isn’t that odd? I never thought I’d be one of those women. But here I am, talking like the world revolves around you,” she begins.

“I feel like I’m missing out on something when I’m with you, and I feel physically ill when I’m away from you. But when I saw that lawyer today, I thought… I could run motherfucking rings around him,” I love that first sentence. I like that she doesn’t say she’s missing out either way and acknowledges that being away from her baby makes her feel differently than being away from her job. That’s not really something you hear people admit that often, and it’s why the soliloquy works well here.

“So, less time at work and more time with you? Or less time at work and I forget about the partner track, which I have worked my ass off for. And it’s not just about ambition, either, I mean, how do I pay for schools?” Lucca’s such an interesting character to become a parent. Independence has been her thing since we met her: She didn’t have friends, and, hell, she didn’t even have a boss. I still can’t figure out why she was working as a bar attorney when we first met her, but I would bet that the fact she didn’t have to answer to anyone was a big part of it. (Also wouldn’t shock me if Lucca didn’t go to one of the top law schools and had trouble finding a job at a big firm until Alicia saw her potential.)

She asks for a sign from the baby and the baby farts. Dunno what that means but it’s a funny way of ending Lucca’s monologue and making her realize she knows what choice she wants to make.

She calls Liz and says she wants the job. I think Lucca will be happy with that decision. Sure, she could pass it up and make her way back to the partner track (this isn’t the only chance she’ll get), but asserting herself now will show everyone, especially Liz, she’s serious about her commitment to the firm. And it seems to be a fast-track to partnership, so she’ll be making more money faster.

Anyway, I really liked Lucca’s soliloquy. I can’t speak to how hard it is to be a working mom since I don’t have kids, but I appreciate that FINALLY, someone other than Alicia (or Caitlin lol) is dealing with this question. At least based on what I’ve heard from others who DO have kids, the way Lucca phrases her options and the trade-offs seems realistic.

I can’t really figure out the meaning of the song choice (Lucca’s singing again) but I think it works.

Diane arrives home to find Kurt putting on a tie. There’s more flirty banter. Kurt explains he’s going to a cocktail party for work and he thought Diane wouldn’t want to come to a Republican fundraiser. But Diane wants to come.

“You won’t like it. Eric and Don are speaking,” he warns. “Are you kidding?! Eric and Don!?!? I have lived my life for this moment! What shall I wear?!” Diane responds. Just writing out the line doesn’t do it justice. Christine Baranski’s delivery of these lines is flawless and hilarious.

Also Diane CERTAINLY has a bigger closet than that.

Now Maia and Blum are at his “office” and Blum takes off his pants, does a ton of drugs, and reassures Maia he’s “not going to fuck her.” He doesn’t use the words “try to” in that sentence which makes me even more uncomfortable than I already was.

Blum tells Maia that you don’t make the story fit the evidence, you make the evidence fit the story. Yawn. You can also win by telling a strategic story. There are some arguments I’ve heard on this show (and TGW) so many times I’m just tired of them. One is that you have to represent Lemond Bishop/Colin Sweeney types if you want to be profitable, which is complete bullshit that does not justify taking them on as clients. Another is quickly becoming this “a story is more interesting than facts, so what if we just lie???” idea. It’s interesting, but didn’t W418 (Peter punching Kresteva; Vero lying to the kids) and F207 (Liz’s impeachment strategy) cover this? What more is Roland Blum going to add to this discussion? Because, entertaining as some of his antics may be (and I don’t even think they’re entertaining), is whatever point they’re trying to make going to be worth what’s sure to be a large portion of screentime? I highly doubt it.

Blum tells Maia some nonsense about how she is “in prison” and doesn’t know what it’s like to be free. Then he gives her a fentanyl lollipop. Go the fuck away, dude. (I do like that he seems to insist that Maia can be corrupted because he respects her shitty father. I don’t think I’m ever going to love this arc but that’s a smart way to mention Papa Rindell: As an icon for other pieces of shit.)

Blum also tells Maia about his hero, Roy Cohn. He goes so far as to say Roy Cohn lives on through him.

I did not know much at all about Roy Cohn, so I can say that this song does a very good job of explaining who he is. It’s also really funny and catchy. I’m on board with these Good Fight shorts. The animation in this one is particularly inspired.

Blum explains lying. I get it. He’s terrifyingly awful. Moving on.

Wait no not moving on, what the fuck is a “wet pussy” going to do for Maia in court?

Now moving on for real: Diane and Kurt arrive at the fundraiser, and Diane baits (though it doesn’t take much effort) the guests into saying offensive shit, which she records.

Kurt tells her delete the recording, and she doesn’t fight over it too much. She deletes it. (I wonder if she has another copy saved. I don’t think she does, but I won’t be shocked.)

Diane takes out her aggression at aikido again, but when the instructor tells her she’s hitting too hard and begins to talk (for some reason) about a Jewish conspiracy (I thought the cut in the promo was funnier than the cut in the episode), she realizes she needs a new outlet.

Badass!Maia’s theme returns. She’s carried the fentanyl lollipop INTO THE COURTHOUSE and is still toying with the idea of sucking on it. Maia, throw it in the fucking garbage. You owe this man nothing.

Is it really weird that, despite having seen characters in the courthouse elevator numerous times and despite the fact that the view out the window is of other buildings, I’ve somehow always just thought the courtrooms were all on the first floor of the building? This makes no sense, and I don’t think I ever registered that I thought they were all on the first floor, but it caught me off-guard this episode that they were higher up.

Maia taunts Blum about the lollipop and he responds with some sexism and by telling Maia she’s a disappointment to her father. I would hope to disappoint that scumbag. I can’t think of a higher compliment tbh.

Oh, the witness who was in a Bishop case and also played a role in Cary’s case in season 6 is here. Case stuff happens.

Blum asks Maia to act outraged when he signals her to, AND SHE DOES. Maia, you don’t have to listen to him and be complicit in Blum trying to blame MATAN BRODY for this murder.

I think Maia enjoys this little act of rebellion (and the approval of Blum) and oh boy, we’re in for a ride. As I said earlier, entitled white girl decides to act out because it’s just now occurred to her she can be “bad” and she gets a thrill out of it is a plot that makes sense for Maia, but also, it’s kinda insufferable. At least she’s working.

“I want to run divorce law,” Lucca declares. “You’re a fourth year, Lucca,” Adrian counters. There he goes again, belittling female colleagues by saying their name at the end of sentences! Also, how is it possible that Maia’s a third year and Lucca’s a fourth year? Lucca said she was a third year in season 1, episode 2.

Lucca turns her lack of experience into a selling point: she’s eager. Liz approves.

“You just had a baby, Lucca,” Adrian responds. Oh, my God. That sentence. That one. That is everything I’m trying to say about Adrian’s casual sexism. It is not ADRIAN’S business that Lucca just had a baby. And even if he believes she might not actually give her all to the job (which is sexist) he shouldn’t be TELLING her she just had a baby. I’m pretty fucking sure she remembers giving birth and remembers that she has a baby. And he caps off that delightful sentence with Lucca’s name, in that same damn tone he’s always using.

(To be clear I think Adrian having a hint of sexism in him is an interesting-- and intentional-- choice on the part of the writers. I’m just ranting about the attitude, not about the writing.)

Adrian decides they’ll interview Lucca like they interviewed the other candidates, and Lucca agrees.

“Ah, you’re lining up your women’s army,” Adrian says to Liz as soon as Lucca leaves. “No, I just want what’s best for the firm,” Liz retorts. Yeah, it’s a women’s army when Liz hires a woman, but a “smart decision” when Adrian hires a man. OK COOL NO PROBLEMS THERE. “Bullshit,” Adrian says.

Yes, because if Liz disagrees with him on what’s best for the firm and, gasp, thinks alienating female clients and passing over their own talent (because their own talent just had a baby) is not good for the firm, it’s clearly just a GENDER WAR. Can’t be a valid reason for that! Liz just thinks boys have cooties and wants the firm to be GIRLS ONLY because GIRLS RULE AND BOYS DROOL. Yes. That MUST BE IT.

Liz tracks down Lucca after the meeting and gives her more advice. She tells her to bring in some clients to prove her worth to the firm.

Do I think Liz is doing this in part because it’s advantageous to her for Lucca to get the job? Yes. Do I think it’s only advantageous to Liz because Lucca’s great and she truly thinks Lucca’s a good fit for the job? Also yes.

Lucca phones Francesca while simultaneously instructing Marissa to dig up some dirt on her competition. Francesca has a book club full of wealthy women in need of divorces (convenient!) and Lucca’s not above using it. I’m not even sure she’d hesitate for even a second.

Francesca’s totally on board and sets up a “Sip and See” where her book club will come see baby Joseph. It works. Francesca sings to Joseph, “Mom and Dad split and I don’t care!” and lollollol this child is going to have quite the life.

Maia and Blum end up at a hospital to claim illegal drugs (unclear how Maia drives all the way to a place before realizing it’s different from the place she went yesterday. Methinks Maia is more curious about Roland Blum than she’s letting on.). You know, I’m not even tempted to type out all the obnoxious things he does and says? It’s just the ones that pertain to plot I feel the need to type out, because the others are just outlandish stuff for shock value. I am quickly becoming as unfazed by Blum’s bullshit as Alicia was by Sweeney’s creepiness. And I don’t mean that in a “desensitized” way. I just don’t care. I already understand who he is and no naked extras or drugs or provocative statements are going to add anything to my understanding. They are also NOT FUN. I want to make that clear. I am NOT AMUSED. Let’s get on with the point here and spend less time on his antics.

(Wow, I was not this off-put by Roland Blum the first time through the episode, but the third time? I’m already done with his entire arc.)

I used to think “trust, but verify” was a Bree Van de Kamp quote and I’m just now realizing it’s a Reagan quote. Well, that joke went over my head when I was 12.

Why is Maia even wasting her time with this guy? Is she going to check in with anyone at the firm on this?

His “trial strategy” is to repeat what he said about lying. Cool. This was useful.

Diane’s found a new outlet: axe throwing. It does seem like a good way to get out aggression!

Blum exists, case stuff happens, Maia wears a horrible suit.

Tara, who has previously cared a lot about privacy, shows up at RBL to confront Diane. Naomi’s contacted her about the abortion. Diane denies knowing anything (and by denies, I mean she lies to Tara’s face) and subtly suggests it was one of the other many people Tara told. “This is supremely shitty,” Tara says on her way out. Yes, yes it is.

“Do you want the result on that Geoffrey Payton check?” Marissa asks Lucca. No, she just wanted Marissa to have some fun investigating!

Lucca goes into her interview prepared. She’s brought in 3 new cases, compared to Geoffrey’s 6, and hers (unlike his) are more than just divorces. (Again, I don’t see how six divorce cases is that helpful. Are these six men going to get divorced multiple times a year?)

Lucca’s also got some dirt, in case proving her worth wasn’t enough. Payton is a Republican, but he’s also one of the attorneys who prepped Kavanaugh. Lucca’s wise enough to know that’s some sticky content right there. (“Okay, let’s just keep politics out of this, Lucca,” Adrian says and I’m only noting it because, again, TONE.)

Diane picks up a flier for the resistance at the axe bar. Nothing to say about this, but it’s obviously a plot point.

Case stuff happens, there’s a mistrial (unclear if this is a good move that plays out badly on Maia’s part or a stupid one she hadn’t thought through), now we have to deal with this in a future episode too. Did I mention that this is totally disconnected from the rest of the episode? I’d be totally fine if it continues to be disconnected since it’s way easier to block out bad plots that affect nothing than bad plots that get wound into the fabric of the show. This isn’t a bad plot YET but I love everything else going on and I’m SO DONE with this.

(I should not watch Roland Blum plots three times.)

I think I’m even skipping over the bigger character based moments of that plot. They all involve Maia and no matter how many times the writers show me that Maia’s becoming more bold, I am not going to care about Maia unless they give me a reason to care about her. On a show where every other character is so complex and captivating, why should I devote any attention to Maia Rindell?

The Rindell hater is back, showing Maia what he’s lost. “What the fuck do I care?” Maia replies as she puts on her sunglasses. I imagine it can’t be easy dealing with constant harassment and she personally owes this dude nothing, but I’m not about to applaud her for telling someone her parents hurt to fuck off. And those sunglasses are ridiculous.

(It’s not the sunglasses themselves as much as it’s the way she puts them on like they’re magic and she’s the biggest badass in the world. This is like the X rated version of that episode of Lizzie McGuire where Lizzie gets detention and decides she wants to pierce her nose to be like the rebellious girl who bullied her in detention. The biggest difference, other than the profanity, is that Maia is an adult.)

Lucca gets the job! Yay!

Julius lets Geoffrey know he didn’t get it, and either Geoffrey didn’t really care or Julius is more opportunistic than I thought, because he asks if he’s still being considered for a judgeship. Really, Julius?

Diane and Liz go to deliver Lucca the good news. This isn’t Diane’s victory but I can see why she claims it as hers. Lucca’s holding the “if you’re happy and you know it” dog, and she is, indeed, happy. I’m surprised the dog didn’t start singing.

Adrian is waiting in Liz’s office when she returns from the 22nd floor. “So, you won,” Adrian says. “We all won,” Liz replies. “No, I don’t think so. Geoffrey was the smarter choice for the firm. Lucca was the smarter choice for you,” Adrian replies. What does that even mean? What does Liz get out of having Lucca in the position, and why is what Liz wants not “for the firm”? I need Adrian to explain.

“I told Lucca she needed new clients. She got three in one night,” Liz counters. “And the partners didn’t care about that. They cared about the dirt that she dug up on him,” Adrian dismisses Liz. Why can’t it be both? They wouldn’t vote FOR Lucca if they didn’t also think she was competent. From what we’ve seen, divorce law is mainly digging up dirt on others and not being afraid to use it, and that’s exactly what Lucca did (this is Liz’s next point, more or less). If the partners were dismayed about Payton’s connections but didn’t think Lucca was up to it, they’d just… keep looking for candidates.

“Play dirty. Manipulate. Backstab,” Adrian says. He says this like these are new dirty tactics Lucca’s pioneered at the firm, like LUCCA QUINN is going to corrupt the firm. PLEASE. Adrian has done all of these things. As Liz points out, Adrian ENCOURAGES all of these things. And what Lucca did here was mild. She asked for the job? She did a background check and made the facts look good for her? And sure, what she dug up was sensational, but it’s no worse than what they dig up on opponents in court on a weekly basis. That doesn’t make it okay, but I’m not going to draw the line here when this is one of the least dirty/manipulative/backstabby things anyone’s done on the show. (Also who is she even backstabbing?)

“So we answered the question, ‘who are we?’” Adrian replies. “Yep. Welcome to the thunderdome,” Liz says with a smile. So you decided you’re a firm that doesn’t know who you are. Best of luck with that. I’m Team Liz.

Tara’s being harassed by the press and Diane’s only reaction is to say “I’m sorry” to a screen and look at a flier for the resistance.

(Hey, does Diane get a say in who the firm is?)

[xx-thedarklord-xx]

I Gift to You

@restlessandordinary OKAY, two things. One, I had this idea in my head and it is probably WAY different than you originally planned. Sorry about that. Two, this is later than I told you I would get it out. Sorry about that. Three, if you’ve got an AO3, I would like to have it so that I can gift this to you, since it is longer than a normal drabble and can stand as a oneshot. 

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               The first time it happened, Draco swore it was just a slip up. He wouldn’t do it again. Nope. Potter certainly didn’t deserve his generosity. Because that was exactly what this was. People didn’t give him enough credit when it came to being nice.

               It’s just that the sight of the eleven-year-old in glasses that weren’t fitting his face, were horribly old, fading in color and just not aesthetically pleasing, had him wanting to rectify this travesty immediately. This wasn’t because he cared or anything. Nope. This was doing everyone else a favor. Really. It benefited society by no one having to see the hideous specs.

               Draco timed it perfectly. He knew that Potter tended to spend longer eating than everyone else. Certainly, longer than Weasley. The redhead inhaled food quicker than he did air. So, when Potter was about to leave for his morning class, Draco signaled the school owl that he had trained to wait for his mark. It took weeks to train the bloody bird. The only problem was that the bird was now attached to him. Which hadn’t been previously intended. At least the owl had proper taste.

               The brown barn owl swooped down, catching the attention of a few stragglers but otherwise the notice was limited.

               Confusion was the first expression that Draco could make out. He knew that the Gryffindor probably wondered why his snowy owl hadn’t delivered the mail, but the boy was too curious to not open it. Not exactly the smartest thing to do but that was just his own suspicious nature coming forward.

               The confusion quickly bled into shock before a genuinely pleased glint appeared in the brunette’s eyes.

               Instructions had been placed in the package, because Draco knew that intelligence was the reason the reckless idiot hadn’t been placed into Ravenclaw. The glasses were charmed to stay on his face until the wearer wished them off. They would mold to the user’s needs, whether the eye sight got worse with age or not. Not to mention, the frames would change to match the user’s outfit, ensuring that they remain elegant at all times. Which was a deal breaker in his opinion.

               Draco’s resolve to allow this to be a brief moment of weakness and a onetime instance, shattered at the flush on Potter’s face and a shy grin flickered on the Gryffindor’s lips.

               Salazar, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The git wasn’t allowed to make him feel like this. Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do sappy feelings.

               Angrily, Draco made his way swiftly towards the entrance, inwardly cursing Potter’s existence. It wasn’t until he almost reached the door that he heard Longbottom’s question.

               “Oh, wow. Those are pretty expensive. Who sent them to you?”

               “No idea.” Potter’s tone was a little awed. “The note just says, ‘To fix your face, finally’.”

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               Draco was determined that the second time still be counted as a slip up. This wasn’t going to be a regular thing. Nope. Not at all. Because that was just silly. Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do nice things for other people. Especially to Potter.

               Unfortunately, the delivery was not as well timed as last year’s gift. The other two members of the Idiotic Trio were still around.

               He watched his the school owl struggle to carry the packages and it caused a twinge of guilt inside Draco. He couldn’t trust any other owls to do the job, so the bird would have to do it alone.

               When Potter looked to the owl, it was clear that he recognized the bird. The Gryffindor reached out a hand to softly pet the owl before opening the packages with gusto.

               Draco couldn’t hear what was going on from where he sat, but he could tell that the other boy had gasped. It was the way the eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slowly. Which was a great reaction so far. He knew that his gift would mean something. Not that he cared about that.

               The silence was killing him. He needed to know what was being said. Draco slowly made to the end of the table, pretending that he was listening to a few of his housemate’s conversations before using that as a reason to go a different route towards the exit.

               Just as he passed, he caught the beginning of Weasley’s questions.

               “What is it? Why would someone send you books full of scribbles?”

               Draco rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Scribbles. That one actually hurt.

               “It’s not scribbles, Ron!” Granger corrected. “I think it’s in Parseltongue.”

               “It is.” Potter whispered, fingers running over the title of the first book. Behind the Wonders of Parseltongue Volume I: The History of the Snake Language and Why it’s a Blessing and Not a Curse.

               “Why do you think they sent it?” Weasley asked, eyeing the book warily.

               “To send me a message.” Answered Potter, placing the book in his lap, only to pick up the second one. Behind the Wonders of Parseltongue Volume II: The Astonishing Accomplishments that Parseltongue has Brought to the World.

               “What message? Because they think you are Slytherin’s Heir?”

               Draco wasn’t going to even bother coming up with a mental reply for that one.

               “No.” Potter shook his head. “So that I can love all parts of me. Even the ones that are perceived as evil.”

               The insight had Draco fighting off a flush. That was not his intention… not exactly. He just hated the thought of others degrading Potter’s ability just because they don’t understand it. There is nothing wrong with being a Parselmouth. It wasn’t dark, vile or even evil.

               “Does the note say who it’s from?” There was suspicion in Granger’s tone, which had Draco scoffing internally. If he had wanted to harm Potter, he would have. It’s not like the brunette even spell checks the gifts. Which was actually pretty moronic, but that was just Draco’s thought on the matter.

               “No, it just says, ‘To learn something, for once’.”

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               The evidence against this being a onetime incident was becoming a reach, even in Draco’s own mind. But that was beside the point.

               So far, this would probably be his worst idea yet. This was getting rather personal… but he couldn’t allow this year to continue with the mass hysteria that everyone walked around with. Not when it was a farce to begin with.

               This time, he chose to have Russet—not that he named the infernal bird—deliver the gift during a nighttime study session the Idiotic Trio were having in the Library.

               When a light scratching drew Potter’s attention to the window next to him, Draco stepped into the shadows of an alcove.

               “Oh, it’s you.” Potter’s voice took a happy glint to it.

               Draco watched him rip of the packaging and freeze. This was a normal reaction, but he just hoped that the brunette wouldn’t become angry.

               News clippings, articles posted in obscure news outlets, court records and even statements made by the accused where staring up at Potter.

               He watched Potter’s brow furrow slightly with each passing minute until he was full blown frowning as each parchment was leafed through.

               “Hermione!” Potter whisper yelled as his voice cracked.

               “What? What is it? Oh, your anonymous friend sent you something?” Granger hadn’t looked up from her book on Medieval Flobberworms and Why They Were the Downfall of Mermish Society, as she walked down the aisle.

               “Hermione, can the Wizengamot sentence someone to Azkaban without a trial?”

               That caused Granger to peer up at him in confusion. “No, it violates several laws and is illegal.”

               Potter thrusted all of the articles harshly as Weasley came around the other side of the table and read over their shoulders.

               “Oh.” Granger whispered, blinking rapidly. “This isn’t good.”

               “Black is innocent, isn’t he?” There was a miserable confusion in Potter’s tone. But Draco couldn’t have admitted that he knew from his father that Black truly hadn’t been a Death Eater, without revealing sources.

               “Let me guess.” Weasley began sarcastically. “There’s no signature?”

               “Just a note that says, ‘To provide the proof that has always been there, idiot’.”

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

               Sadly, it wasn’t hard to send Potter his gift this time. Weasley was being pathetically obtuse by thinking Potter would actually put his name in the Goblet. Granger was spending time between the two. All he had to do was wait until he knew she was with the redhead.

               It was a bit risky to send the package outside, due to the chance of being caught but Draco knew that now was the best time.

               The sound of fluttering wings had caught Potter’s attention. The Gryffindor put up his arm, allowing Russet a perch to land on.

               “Hey you.” Potter teased, gently running his fingers through her feathers before taking the burden from the bird.

               “Feels like a book.”

               Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if Potter liked to state the obvious just to hear himself talk.

               He watched Potter arch a brow as he picked up, Triwizard Tournament 1410: The Year No One Survived.

               “What a morbid gift.” Potter whispered, aghast. Probably wondering why he would be sent a book that mentioned the deaths of all contestants.

               It wasn’t until he began skimming the chapters that Potter let out a happy shout. “They are cycling through old tasks!”

               Honestly, it was sad that Potter hadn’t gone through the history of the Triwizard Tournament. After the Dragons, Draco had recognized the task. It was the exact same, down to the golden eggs as well. It didn’t take a genius to realize what the second one would be, if one were to take in account of the history.

               “Oh.” Potter whispered, eyes traveling the pages rapidly. “The egg is speaking in Mermish.” The boy smacked his forehead so hard, Draco wondered if it would leave a dent. Which would probably be an improvement.

               Potter looked to Russet with kind eyes and a soft expression. “Your owner is wonderful.”

               Draco refused to let that fluster him. It was just a truth after all. It was a known fact that Draco Lucius Malfoy is wonderful. Everyone knew it.

               “Not to mention rude.” Potter chided with a small smile as he read the note. “To give help, Merlin knows you need it.”       

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

               Draco wasn’t sure about this one. He knew he was taking a giant risk by doing this. It was one thing to listen in on his father while home, but it was another to actively go against him. Providing Potter either of these wasn’t the smartest.

               The timing on this one was horrible but there was nothing Draco could do to change it. This was the only way to guarantee that Potter would be alone when he received them.

               He watched the Gryffindor walk down the corridor with a hand curled to his chest, pain on his face and tired eyes that weren’t paying attention to anything. Draco knew that Umbridge had given the idiot detention again.

               A small hoot from Russet had Potter looking up, smile lighting his features. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

               The bird was once again struggling under the weight, but Potter was quick to help. He led the bird over to a bench against the wall before opening the package.

               Potter’s brows pinched harshly as he picked up a book. “Prophecies and Why They Aren’t Meant to be Taken at Face Value.”

               “Huh.” Potter scratched the side of his head. “Cryptic but I suppose I’ll keep it in mind.”

               When Potter picked up the vial, a soft expression appeared on his face and it had Draco’s breath catching. He had to force himself not to look away.

               “It’s a healing salve.” Potter’s tone was pleased but shy. The Gryffindor unscrewed the cap before placing it on the back of his bleeding hand. “I wish I could thank your owner.”

               The overheard gratitude was enough for Draco.

               A snort had Draco arching a brow. “To keep you safe, since you aren’t doing a good enough job.”

               “They sure are blunt.” There was a pause as Potter traced the note gently. “But that’s a refreshing change from secrecy.”

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

               Perhaps Draco was feeling petty. Or his pride was wounded. Either one worked. He watched Potter’s face fall as he opened the gift from across the Great Hall.

               Draco didn’t spare a look after that. He already knew that the Gryffindor was sorry but tell that to his disfigured body that would never look the same.

               Dark Spells and Why Morons Shouldn’t Use Them Without the Knowledge Behind It.

               No note had been attached, it was Draco’s way of voicing his displeasure but also because he hadn’t been sure what to say. He knew that the blame wasn’t solely on Potter but there had been a drastic difference in the two of them that day.

               He stabbed his mashed potatoes heavily before shoving them to the side. His appetite had long ago disappeared.

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

               This was the first year that Draco had no idea how his gift would be perceived. He wasn’t there to witness it and had no idea where Potter was even at. It had taken quite a bit of Dark Magic to be able to get his owl to sense his previous gifts. He was counting on Potter being sentimental enough to have taken at least one of them with him on whatever expedition the moron was doing.

               As much as it would be nice having the Golden Boy here for his last year, he knew that fighting the Dark Lord was preferable. Hogwarts wasn’t home anymore. Not with the Carrows here. Not with the violence or the curses. Not with scared children or irresponsible teachers. This wasn’t the Hogwarts Potter knew nor was it the Hogwarts that this place deserved.

               Draco walked the corridors, pointedly ignoring the younger students sneaking out of the Great Hall. Today was mandatory ‘training’ with the Carrows. All older students were to show that they were capable of performing two of the Unforgivable Curses. Their targets were the younger students.

               It had been difficult thinking of something that he could offer Potter, what do you get someone that is risking their life to protect the rest of the world? How do you offer something meaningful when life itself could be taken at any given time? What kind of gift is there to provide?

               In the end he had sent numerous books on counteracting Dark Magic, what to do if one is involved in a Dark ritual and methods on surviving in the unknown. Charms to help against minimal to mild curses, and even objects to ward off intruders had been sent along as well. His gift might have been seen as overkill, but the message was clear, same as the note tied to Russet.

              Don’t die, you bumbling moron.

               Not just for the rest of the world, or even because someone needed to fight against the Dark Lord. No. Draco needed Potter alive for his own relief. He wanted the Gryffindor to live because it was only fair. The boy shouldn’t have to live his life only to die. What kind of shite was that?

               “Don’t die, Potter.” Draco whispered to himself before straightening up at the sound of footsteps.

               “Where did those students go? Did you see them escape?”

               “No.” Draco informed Alecto as he turned around, head straightening, lie easily falling from his mouth. “You might want to try Zabini’s sector.”

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

               This was the last time. Draco knew that he couldn’t keep doing this. Not with the way things had played out. Not with the way his emotions were already too invested. Because if he didn’t get control of himself, then he would be spending the rest of his bloody life sending Potter gifts.

               Draco had always thought sending Potter things had been difficult but none of them would hurt as badly as this one.

               He made his way to the Owlery, timing it enough that he knew Potter had already left. The Gryffindor liked to visit the owls, probably missing his own Snowy one. A pang filled Draco at the thought of Russet dying as Hedwig had.

               Right as he reached the door, a flash near his peripheral vision had him pausing. Despite not seeing anything of concrete, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was being watched. But time was of the essence, so he squared his shoulders and made his way inside.

               The excited hoot Russet released at the sight of him had Draco smiling softly. He watched her jump from one foot to the next before flying straight to him.

               “Hey beautiful.” Draco cooed, running his fingers along the top of her head. “You just saw me yesterday, you can’t have missed me that much.”

               She gave him a reproachful look before nipping his finger affectionately.

               Draco sighed heavily, trying to work up the courage that would be needed. “When I trained you, I always thought that our partnership would be for the one time. But apparently I have no self-control.” He shook his head ruefully at the way his eleven-year-old self had acted.  

               “I didn’t think I would grow attached to you.” If an owl could be smug, he knew that Russet was. The bloody self-righteous bird. “But I did. You are definitely smarter than other owls but also far too kind to be associated as mine.” He held up a hand when she hooted indignantly.

               “But that’s not the point. You see, I thought long and hard about what my final gift should be.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I know he misses his owl, it’s easy to tell by the way he stops here to visit. He has a liking for you, so I know that my gift will be perceived well.”

               A sad hoot had him peering into equally sad brown eyes. “He’ll be able to give you the kindness that I can’t.” When her beak opened but no sound came out, Draco was positive his heart broke. “I already made up the note. I just need to tie it to you and then… and then say goodbye.” His voice had cracked a little on the last word. This shouldn’t be affecting him so much, but Russet was the only thing that was normal anymore, the only constant in his life. Giving up his owl would be giving up a part of himself but… that was alright, right?

               Draco blinked rapidly as he tied the note to Russet’s leg. He couldn’t meet her eyes as he touched her feathers. “You’ll be alright. Potter will take care of you.” That much he knew. He thrusted his arm a little in the air until she left his arm in an indignant cry.

               He walked to the wall, not able to watch Russet fly away. Draco tilted his head until he could rest it firmly against the brick of the owlery, eyes closed tightly.

               It took several moments before he realized that Russet’s wings hadn’t flapped for long. Her movement wasn’t still heard.

               Draco opened his eyes and froze at the sight of Potter in the doorway, eyes peering softly at him and Russet sitting proudly on his shoulder.

               “You would give me her?” Potter asked, breath a shaky whisper and hands trembling minutely.

               “I’m not—It’s not—” He bit his lip, unsure if he could lie his way out of this.

               Potter shook his head, stalling anything Draco could say.

               “I figured out it was you a few years ago.”

               If Draco’s head wasn’t already close to the wall, he would have jerked it in surprise.

               The way the Gryffindor was standing made him think that the other boy was nervous. “I thought that it might have been you during my fifth year. Who else would insult me, you know? But it wasn’t until our sixth year that I knew. I really wanted to talk to you about it, but I ruined that with the bathroom incident. And you’ve got to know that I didn’t know what that spell would do. I would have never used something like that. I would—”

               Draco raised a hand to interrupt the already long speech. “I know, Potter. I know. I wasn’t innocent either. I was angry at you for so long that I didn’t realize that you made it all real. What I was doing held consequences. You were one of those consequences. I couldn’t keep going as I was, something had to give. Unfortunately, that was me. I have accepted this and I don’t hold it against you.”

               “You found me after that anyways. Even after I hurt you.” Potter whispered, eyes roaming. “You sent me your owl and it was a remembrance of what was here. It was a reminder that while I was drowning in responsibility, that reality was still waiting for me. That there really was an exit at the end of the tunnel of shite that my life was turning into.”

               There was a pause as Potter grinned ruefully. “Don’t die. What a morbid note but a demand nonetheless. I’m still here, I’m still breathing.”

               Draco wasn’t sure what to say. The realm of possibilities had past quite some time ago. This was turning into a conversation that he had never imagined happened.

               “Thank you.” Whispered Potter, eyes being far kinder than Draco deserved to witness. “I’m not sure about the reason behind these gifts.” Draco looked down at his hands, not willing to own up to anything.

               “I know what I would like for it to all mean.” The sound of his footsteps coming closer had Draco’s throat constricting.

               “But Malfoy, I can’t accept this last gift.”

               Draco snapped his head up, eyes narrowing angrily.

               “I can’t take your owl from you.” Potter lifted up the note gently. “For you.” The man whispered softly. “I have had seven years of gifts from you but haven’t returned the favor. I think that’s pretty rude of me, don’t you?”

               There was a teasing glint to the man’s eyes and that was the only thing keeping Draco’s sanity. “Now that you mention it…”

               Potter grinned widely, taking the last few steps until there was only inches separating them.

               “Your owl belongs with you.” Draco looked through his lashes, gaining confidence from the way Potter swallowed thickly. “I miss Hedwig more than I can properly express, but it would hurt more to take this one from you.”

               Draco took a shaky breath when a hand tenderly cupped one of his cheeks.

              “I wouldn’t be opposed to a joint custody.” Draco whispered, meeting green eyes that were smiling in a way that he hadn’t seen since before the war.

               A joyful laugh had Draco’s heart skipping a beat. “I can do that.” Potter whispered, face leaning forward, eyes asking permission.

               Patience wasn’t Draco’s strong suit. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Potter’s neck and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Belatedly, he realized that Russet had flown away the moment they touched but he was too distracted by Potter’s mouth. This wasn’t calm, sweet or gentle. How could it? Not when this had been building for years. Not when Draco had been imagining this very moment far longer than he would care to admit. Not when Potter was holding him tightly, hands roaming along his back and low mewls leaving his mouth.

               “That was the best gift I have ever been given.” Draco whispered against smiling lips.

               The sound of Russet flying up above them; hooting happily and wings flapping rapidly had Draco sighing happily.

               Who needed gifts when he already had everything he could possibly want?

[oumakokichi]

I don't know if you already talked about it, or I just couldn't find it, but I heard that Gonta's translation/localization wasn't really accurate and he doesn't talked in "hulk speech" in the original, so I wonder how did he talked then? there it is much difference?

Gonta’s localization definitely wasn’t very accurate to theoriginal Japanese. It’s… oh boy, how to put it. From the moment that it wasrevealed in the first trailer NISA released for ndrv3, I and a lot of othertranslators felt that it was perhaps thesingle worst decision taken in the entire game. I believe toning down Gonta’sdialogue to be “Tarzan speech” or “Hulk speech” skewed many things about hischaracter.

After having finished the localization, I still stand bythat opinion. Of all the mistakes or errors in the localization, I feel thatGonta’s “Tarzan speech” is still the worst, even moreso because it wasdeliberate, rather than accidental. Intentionally choosing to omit or alterthings about his character in a way that makes him seem considerably differentfrom his original counterpart in the Japanese version of the game just doesn’tsit well with me. It feels to me as though Gonta’s translator simply wantedGonta to “match” what they perceived his character as, rather than translatingwhat was actually there directly.

The most important thing to note is that in the originalversion of the game, Gonta does not talk in any noticeably “stupider” fashionthan his classmates. He is certainly naïve and trusting, prone to fall forothers’ lies; he’s also unfamiliar with many terms related to technology orelectronic advancements, because he grew up in the forest removed from societyfor such a long time. But his Japanese is perfectly fine, very much in linewith what you would expect from a typical high schooler of his age. Thisreflects something very central to his character—that he’s not nearly asunintelligent or dumb as others, and even he himself, perceive him to be.

In the original, Gonta refers to himself exclusively in thethird-person, which I think is perhaps one reason the translator thought itwould be comparable to change his speech to “Tarzan/Hulk speech” (i.e. “Hulkangry!! Hulk smash!!”). But that’s hardly a fair decision, considering bothAngie and Tenko also exclusively refer to themselves using third-person. WhileTenko’s speech is perhaps a bit more polite than the other two, all three ofthem nonetheless talk in a generally similar fashion, so using the “third-person”excuse as a reason to change only Gonta’s dialogue makes no sense.

Referring to oneself in the third-person is, in fact, muchmore common in Japanese than it is in English. It’s even common for some peopleto switch between referring to themselves in the third-person, and byfirst-person pronouns. All in all, it’s far less strange of a practice thanmany English-speakers would think, and it typically has no bearing on acharacter’s intelligence.

Also worth noting is the fact that Gonta’s grammar, tense,and general vocabulary are all completely unaffected. He doesn’t talksimplistically, nor does he struggle to string his sentences together in theoriginal version of the game. If that had been the case, then I could’veunderstood deciding to localize his speech in a comparable way—but in fact,Gonta is pretty polite and well-spoken, which fits his overall image ofbecoming a “gentleman,” even if he feels his physical size and backstory don’t.

The localization of Gonta’s speech does his character a lotof harm for pretty much the entire game, but I feel like the chapter where itdid the most damage was the chapter where Gonta himself gets the mostscreentime: Chapter 4. Chapter 4 subverts both the players’ and othercharacters’ perception of Gonta as someone who was well-intentioned and sweetbut ultimately “not very useful.”

The reveals that Gonta is not only smarter and moreperceptive than anyone, even himself, gives him credit for, but also moredesperate to contribute to the overall group, are much harder to grasp in thelocalization, as pretty much all of his dialogue tones down how smart heactually is. In the end, most of the reason why the players are tricked intothinking that Gonta “isn’t very smart” is because the other characters andGonta sort of gradually lead you to that assumption, by calling him an “idiot”or asking why he’s “so dumb.”

But whereas there were plenty of hints in the originalJapanese proving that Gonta was, in fact, quite knowledgeable in his own areaof expertise and in practical, hands-on experience, the original plays up the “dumbTarzan-man who grew up in the woods” routine so much that it’s nearlyimpossible to discard it. It makes it very hard, in my opinion, to realize justhow much he actually contributes to the class trials or how perceptive heactually is, because the translation itself treats him as though he’s an idiot.By comparison, the original dialogue only ever has Gonta call himself stupid,rather than ever acting as such.

In hindsight, it’s easy to see what I mean about Gonta beingfairly perceptive. Due to his eyesight, he notices the “tiny bugs” around thecampus quicker than anyone. He also comments on the state of the stars outsideafter the Chapter 2 trial, noting that they must be “very far away” from hishome, since he doesn’t recognize any of the constellations. Clearly he’sfamiliar not only with entomology, but also has a firm grasp of astronomy and avariety of other skills, all due to his experiences.

He also arguably contributes more solutions to the classtrials than major characters like Momota or Himiko. In Chapter 2, for instance,Gonta was the first person to catch on to the way the ropeway could’ve beencreated; his suggestion about tying the two ropes together was perfectly on-point.In Chapter 3 again, he was incredibly knowledgeable about the state of thefloorboards in the empty rooms and the way in which the see-saw trick might’vebeen carried out. These things clearly show that he’s not stupid, but rather naïve and simply unfamiliar with some of thethings his classmates treat as normal (like technology).

In the localization, though, even these contributions to theclass trials are hard to take note of. Gonta’s speech is simplified so much tothe point that even when he’s talking about very rational, understandablethings that are easy to make sense of, he still comes across as unintelligent. Itjust feels like such a break from his original character, where there were somany signs that he was trying to participate in group discussions and beingleft out only because other characters’ perception of him, as well as his ownself-perception. His problem was never that he was actually an idiot, butrather that everyone, including himself, thought of him that way.

This is precisely why the other characters have so muchtrouble believing that Gonta could possibly have been the culprit in Chapter 4.Not only do they think he was too nice to ever hurt someone, but they also allemphasize that he “wasn’t smart enough.” But the Chapter 4 post-trial makes itemphatically clear that while Ouma led Gonta to the flashback light and showedhim “the truth of the outside world,” Gonta himself willingly went alongwith  Ouma’s plan and made the conscious decisionto kill another person. It’s something the AI Gonta accepts full responsibilityfor, and it’s a pivotal point of his character—that despite the fact that therest of the group didn’t think him capable of it or smart enough to do so, hewas fully capable of making his own decisions.

The localization makes it much, much harder to come to termswith this reveal, though. In the original version of the game, it’s certainlydifficult to reconcile the idea that someone as kind and compassionate as Gontawould ever kill someone else, but it becomes evident through the sincerity andemotion in the post-trial (both with regular Gonta and with AI Gonta) that he’stelling the truth, especially about the “truth of the outside world.”

The localization’s “Tarzan-speech,” by contrast, takes almostall the sincerity and emotion out of those speeches. It’s very hard to takeGonta’s claims of responsibility in the localization seriously when histranslation makes it seem as though he’s barely even capable of takingaccountability for his own actions. It’s infantilizing, and in my opinion itcompletely misses the point of everything about his character that was used tosubvert people’s expectations in Chapter 4.

Gonta is as kind, caring, and generous as it gets. He’sperhaps not the brightest—but he’s certainly not dumb. His problems manifestfrom a lack of self-confidence, reinforced by how other people perceive him. Hedidn’t grow up in society like a normal person, so he’s unfamiliar with thingsthat everyone else takes for granted, and his eagerness to please means that he’snaïve and quick to fall for other people’s schemes. But in the original versionof the game, it was so much easier to pick up on the fact that he was neveractually “stupid” or “useless,” while the localization treats him… well, prettymuch like a pet.

It’s sad, really; Gonta doesn’t get a lot of time to shineoutside of Chapter 4 and what little time he did get was pretty hard to enjoydue to those bad localization decisions. There are plenty of other decisions inthe localization I don’t agree with or would’ve changed personally, but I stillfeel that Gonta’s is the worst simply because it ruins the point of his entirecharacter and it’s a decision that is used consistently throughout 4 out of 6chapters. No other decisions in the entire game ruined a character sothoroughly, so I really, really wish they had translated his speech properlyand shown more of what he was actually like rather than just trying to play upthe Tarzan tropes.

I hope I was able to clear up your questions, anon! I’vewanted to talk about Gonta’s localization for a while too, so thank you forgiving me a chance to do so.

[agentnico]

Maze Runner: The Death Cure (2018) Review

The last big YA franchise still going, and its only cause Dylan O’Brian thought he was Tom Cruise and risked a stunt when he didn’t have to so he ended up in a hospital and so the film was pushed back whilst the YA film movement slowly died out and now ‘The Death Cure’ is finally here, but is there any interest left in the franchise? I thought not, and then I went to the cinema to see it, and the screening I was in was full. So well done world, you still surprise me!

Plot: In the epic finale to The Maze Runner Saga, Thomas leads his group of escaped Gladers on their final and most dangerous mission yet. To save their friends, they must break into the legendary last city, a WCKD controlled labyrinth that may turn out to be the deadliest maze of all. Anyone who makes it out alive will get the answers to the questions the Gladers have been asking since they first arrived in the maze. Will Thomas and the crew make it out alive? Or will Ava Paige get her way?

The ‘Maze Runner’ films were never anything special in my eyes. I don’t even really find them particularly good as films, but they are enjoyable for what they are. These are the types of films you can watch on a Saturday night when you just want to relax and you don’t want to watch something that requires a lot of brain work. But one thing I admire about the ‘Maze Runner’ franchise and more-so about this new entry is that you got to give props to director Wes Ball for making his trilogy. He directed all the films in the series and he was able to tell this story from beginning to end, and that is admirable. And I also appreciate Wes Ball for having the gut to refuse that extra paycheck and not split the final book in the series into two films, unlike franchises like ‘Harry Potter’, ‘The Twilight Saga’ and ‘Divergent’, the latter of which didn’t even succeed in its ambitions. And don’t even get me started on the short ‘The Hobbit’ book being turned into a massive trilogy the size of ‘Lord of the Rings’. So yes, I do admire Wes Ball for keeping the final book as one film, and not splitting it into multiple films, however at the same time with having only one movie for the final book, the movie is too long. ‘The Death Cure’ goes on for about 2 hours 30 minutes or something along those lines, and I get why, since Wes Ball wanted to cram as much into the film as he could, however by doing so the movie inevitably hits pacing issues, with many scenes dragged out to the extent of becoming boring, and many side-plot points which the film easily could have done without. That brings me to the next issue, being that there are way too many characters in the film which the plot doesn’t manage to balance well, and so many characters end up being under-used. The main victim in this is Patricia Clarkson’s villain Ava Paige, who throughout the series has been doing sweet FA and gets the same treatment in this film too, especially in the end where she kind of loses the ‘villain’ title in order for another character to get his moment to shine, which is fair play to that character, but not to Patricia Clarkson. To add to this, ‘The Death Cure’ finds the need to introduce more new characters with the likes of Walton Goggins’ mysterious business man Lawrence, who appears in the film, says a bunch of monologues and then just goes away. Goggins doesn’t do a bad job at portraying the character, but you are just left there wondering what the real purpose of his character was. And there are quite a few questionable plot choices throughout the movie, then again for the kind of movie this is trying to delve deep into the logical side of things isn’t really the right call. 

‘Maze Runner’ and ‘The Scorch Trials’ both were films that were enjoyable on their own, but it always felt like we were missing something, with that feeling that those two films were building up to something big. So ‘The Death Cure’ has the job of giving us the pay-off as the final chapter in the series, and to be honest it does a swell enough job with basically a non-stop action romp with our heroes going on endless missions and looking bad-ass whilst doing them. And the action is actually fairly decent, with the opening sequence involving a cargo train having a very ‘Mad Max’ feel to it, and then later in the more final moments of the film there are some cool close combat moments which were in all fairness to Wes Ball not badly directed at all. Moving on, the performances from cast members in this film were not bad at all, but generally everyone was fairly mediocre, and it didn’t help that many cast members the likes of the already mentioned Patricia Clarkson and Walton Goggins, and then also Giancarlo Esposito, Dexter Darden and many others being strongly under-used. But there are stand-outs, with Dylan O’Brian being one as our lead hero Thomas, and if there’s one thing that the ‘Maze Runner’ franchise succeeded in, it was that it made a rising star out of O’Brien, who is a talent to be watched. He just needs to be willing to step away from the comfort of his action films and be willing to tread into new territory like indie, drama, comedy or coming-of-age films, as I think that he has the talent for it. I mean, it was a nice change of pace when I saw him in the film ‘Deepwater Horizon’, and if he continues down that route he might end up being something bigger. Thomas Brodie-Sangster was also really good as Newt, and it was really nice to see that at the root of this film was the friendship between Thomas and Newt, and their relationship was the closest thing this movie got to emotional resonance. Rosa Salazar has a few strong scenes, which makes me really look forward to the upcoming ‘Alita: Battle Angel’ in which she will be able to show her full action star power by having to handle a lead role. And I was quite surprised by Aidan Gillen, who takes his weaselly factor from ‘Game of Thrones’ but also adds the sort of cool villainous stance to himself, and I was actually genuinely appreciative of his role in this film. Also a certain character makes a surprising return which was very welcome, that is all I’ll say on that matter.

Last few points to mention is that I feel like the film could have done a better job at tying into the previous two films, since because of the two year gap since the last film, a lot of people most likely forgot what has happened in the series thus far, as this is not a franchise which you can class as particularly memorable. For example, 30 minutes into the film and a zombie appears, and for a couple minutes I was confused as to why a zombie randomly appeared in this movie, and then I remembered that this series has the whole zombie virus plot-line which the film didn’t really remind us about until that helpful hungry zombie showed up. I’m just saying that because of the delay in production I think ‘The Death Cure’ should have had at least some kind of small reintroduction to the series for those of us who are not that dedicated to the fandom as some out there. Also, another point, I admired this film for not being scared of killing off its characters, which is a notable issue in many blockbuster films these days, especially those that are budgeted by a certain small company that goes by the name Disney. However with 20th Century Fox I always appreciated their films more, as it seems that the execs of that company generally give a lot of creative freedom to the directors and producers of their films, which is only more the shame that 20th Century Fox is now merging with Disney. Well, at least its nice to see that ‘The Death Cure’ still stayed true to its plans, with director by the end of the film hitting the point of “f*** it” and simply killing off everyone left and right. I actually was surprised as to how many characters died, but I appreciated Wes Ball having the guts to do so, and also from what I understand he stayed fairly true to the original novels, so good job to him on that also! Generally speaking even though this is a fairly dumb and not particularly brain-challenging franchise, all of these films have been fairly enjoyable, including ‘The Death Cure’, and even though I doubt I’ll remember much of these films, if they ever come up in my mind, I will look back at them fondly. 

Overall score: 6/10

TOP MOVIE QUOTE: “Three years we’ve spent behind walls trying to breakout, and now we want to break back in.” “Hilarious, isn’t it?”

[epiphany-in-exile]

Billboard Taylor Swift's 2017: The Timeline 12/18/2017 by Allison Stubblebine From the record-breaking 'Reputation' to speaking out against sexual assault, Swift continued to change culture in 2017. Taylor Swift didn't do a lot in 2017... until she did. Following months spent attempting to fly under the radar, and the Instagram blackout of Aug. 2017, Swift took the rest of the year by storm, with a not-so-traditional album rollout for Reputation and a series of larger than life visuals to accompany the first singles. Fans got a sneak preview at what was to come from her personally curated Secret Sessions, but those were hidden away from the lens of the media. Now that Reputation is here to stay, Billboard has taken a look back at Swift's action packed year. Jan. 27 - “I Don’t Want to Live Forever” music video release Swift kicked off the New Year with the release of the visuals to Fifty Shades Darker track “I Don’t Wanna Live Forever.” Swift and former 1D artist Zayn trashed a hotel room for the video, lit by flashing shades of blue and red. The song peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100. Feb. 4 2017 - Taylor Swift plays “only show of 2017” Swift broke some disappointing news to fans during her pre-Super Bowl set for DIRECTV Now Super Saturday Night. "I have to be really honest with you about something: As far as I know, I'm doing one show in 2017. And as far as I know, this is that one show," Swift said long before the announcement of Reputation. She added, “You're the crowd in my most recent daydreams, when I'm thinking about being onstage, so I was wondering: If you don't feel like dancing for yourself or screaming for yourself, you don't feel in the mood or whatever, you're like stressed out, would you do it for me tonight?" Feb. 15-16 - TAS Rights Management, LLC filed nine separate trademarks for “Swifties” Swift’s brand nailed down the things most true to her: Swifties. Nine separate trademarks were filed for the word alone, including one involving “a website featuring non-downloadable audio recordings [and] video recordings.” The idea that Swift would launch her own streaming service was debunked. Mar. 2 - Ed Sheeran teases Swift’s upcoming album The singer revealed that his pal would be putting her music out quite late on in the year, saying, “Taylor [Swift] isn’t going to be releasing until probably the end of this year—Christmas is the smartest time to release because that’s when everyone buys records.” Looks like he was right. Mar. 10 - Man arrested for stalking/burglary inside Swift’s apartment building A man was arrested in Swift’s New York City building on charges of burglary, stalking, and trespassing. According to a Page Six report, the man allegedly hoped to meet the singer face-to-face. While the man was initially held on $20,000 bail, he was found unfit to stand trial and reportedly “placed in the custody of the New York State Office of Mental Health” as of late September. April 4 - “Busy working” on new album in Nashville After the singer had been spotted driving around Nashville, a source confirmed to ET that she’d come “to get away from the paparazzi,” and also that she had “been busy working on her upcoming album.” May 15 - She’s really in Nashville! Swift celebrates Mother’s Day at home with her mom TMZ did the heavy digging and proved that Swift really had been in Nashville - though she may have been hopping back and forth, as she was spotted getting onto her private jet after a spending the weekend with mama Swift for Mother’s Day. July 4 - Keeping it low-key for the first time in years on the Fourth of July Paparazzi were very upset that Swift didn’t have an Independence day blowout tailor-made for media, even though she'd been keeping a relatively low profile all year. Aug. 14 - $1 Countersuit Win The long-drawn-out legal battle between DJ David Mueller, who was accused of reaching under the pop star’s skirt to grope her during a photo shoot in 2013, was finally put to rest. After Mueller attempted to countersue for damages that occurred following Swift’s accusation (which was quietly made to the station, who promptly let him go), the singer was awarded a single symbolic dollar in damages. Swift’s attorney Douglas Baldridge explained the value, “It means no means no, and it tells every woman that they will determine what is tolerated with their body." Aug. 18-20 - Bye bye, old Taylor… and old posts In the internet-breaking fashion Swift seems to have perfected, the singer’s social media accounts went into full blackout mode. No old posts were to be found anywhere, signaling that she was gearing up to launch something huge. Aug. 21 - She’s back, but only with some snakes In one of the best social media moments of the year, Swift posted a three-part series of glitch-y snake videos without captions to her Instagram to break her short-lived blackout. The image of the snake had become synonymous with Swift’s internet-meme identity, following the drawn-out beef with Kim Kardashian and Kanye West regarding West’s “Famous” lyrics and video. Aug. 23 - It’s an album! After five days (AKA an eternity in Swiftie time), Swift revealed the project behind the social media madness. Continuing in the three-part posting style, Swift announced “FIRST SINGLE OUT TOMORROW NIGHT,” posted the cover art, and announced the release date for then-upcoming album Reputation. All posts were still caption-less. Aug. 24 - Look what you made her do. Swift released Reputation’s lead single “Look What You Made Me Do” with a clever caption on Instagram: “..ready for it? New single #LookWhatYouMadeMeDo out now.” Of course, the forthcoming track title remained an inside joke to the singer’s team upon posting time. Aug. 27 - Look what you made her do, part two. The singer premiered the visuals for “LWYMMD” at the 2017 MTV VMAs, snagging 43.2 million views in the first 24 hours alone, now standing with over 783 million views. The Joseph Kahn-directed visual is loaded with references to the “old Taylor,” including a tombstone for Nils Sjoberg, her songwriting pseudonym on ex-boyfriend Calvin Harris’ 2016 hit “This Is What You Came For,” nearly all of her most iconic outfits, more snakes, and nearly all her besties’ names scribbled on a new version of her “You Belong With Me” music video costume. Sept. 3 - “…Ready for It?” released Swift released the second track off Reputation after she previewed it on Saturday Night Football the night prior. It followed suit with the darker, much more dramatic new Taylor, yet gave no clearer picture of what was yet to come. Sept. 5 - No. 1, again Taylor Swift's "Look What You Made Me Do" tops the Billboard Hot 100, where it would reign for three weeks. The song was her fifth Hot 100 No. 1 and broke the weekly streaming record for a song by a woman; it also stopped the record-tying 16-week reign of "Despacito." Sept. 7 - TayTay On Demand Ever wanted to know what Swift is up to at any given moment? Well this isn’t exactly that, but the trailer jokes that it will be. Swift announced her new video-on-demand channel in partnership with AT&T and DirectTV called Taylor Swift NOW, accompanied by a hilarious play-by-play of Swift’s day in the studio (complete with Andy Samberg cameo). Oct. 11 - The Swift Life app announced Stans will finally have a one-stop-shop for finding out everything there is to know about their fave singer. It is said to function as a social network of sorts, leaning into Swift’s hobby of “lurking” and replying to fans on social media, and also offering an opportunity to “collect Taymojis, stickers, pics, and more.” Oct. 20 - “Gorgeous” released The predictable yet addicting pop track the world was waiting for finally arrived. Swift sang of a romantic interest that was somehow too gorgeous for even a superstar like her to talk to. James Reynolds, two-year-old daughter of Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively, was later officially credited in album liner notes as the voice at the beginning of the track. Oct. 27 - “…Ready for it?” returns with visuals The fans surely weren’t ready for it, yet with the Joseph Kahn directed video packed with hidden messages, it wasn’t long before Swifties decoded them all. Among the most obvious are Swift’s birth year spray-painted on a wall, the Chinese characters for “Year of the Snake,” as well as a similar lightning strike in the intro to Calvin Harris’ “This is What You Came For” album art. Nov. 2 - “Call It What You Want” lyric video released Fans started to get a fuller picture of what was coming from Reputation in just over a week. Swift seemed to be finding her way to happiness in the first ballad to be released from the album, but she was still attempting to rid herself of the drama she’d endured. The day was special for more than one reason, coinciding with the 13th anniversary (Swift’s lucky number) of meeting Scott Borchetta, the Big Machine Records executive who signed her and gave her the fateful big break. Nov. 7 - Track list revealed on Swift’s Instagram Account Three days prior to the Reputation release date, Swift posted the back cover to the album, featuring the track listing. Nov. 8 - CMA Win Even though she's left country in the dust on her own albums, Swift's song for Little Big Town, "Better Man," nabbed song of the year at the 2017 CMAs. Nov. 9 - The album was leaked, and this is why we can’t have nice things In this day and age, so many albums leak prior to release date, but not quite in this fashion: missing from the leaked files was track no. 13, “This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things.” Whether it was at the hands of Swift’s team, Swift herself, or a sneaky fan, it was quite the clever move. On the same day, an intimate recording “New Years Day” from what looks like a secret session was premiered on ABC during an episode of Scandal. Nov. 10 - Reputation is out everywhere, except for streaming services Reputation hit shelves and online retailers; a Target exclusive version included a magazine with poems and photos from Swift. She announced 20 days later that Reputation would be available to stream at midnight on Dec. 1. Nov. 11 - SNL Swift plays Saturday Night Live, busting out "...Ready for It?" and an acoustic "Call It What You Want." Nov. 13 - Tonight Show Following the death of Jimmy Fallon's mother, Taylor Swift agreed to appear on The Tonight Show to play a moving version of "New Year's Day." Nov. 20 - Reputation Is No. 1 Swift's Reputation becomes her fifth No. 1 album on the Billboard 200. Reputation notched 2017’s biggest week for an album, as the set earned 1.238 million equivalent album units in the week ending Nov. 16, according to Nielsen Music. Of that sum, 1.216 million were in traditional album sales -- the largest sales frame for an album since 2015. It would hold the No. 1 spot for three weeks. Nov. 28 - Grammy Time The Taylor Swift-penned "Better Man" from Little Big Town is nominated for best country song -- which is a songwriter(s) award, so Swift will get a trophy if it wins. She's also nominated for best song written for visual media for her Zayn collab "I Don't Want to Live Forever." Dec. 1 - Taylors In the Stream Reputation appears on the major streaming services. Dec. 4 2017 - Reputation, but make it fashion (UK Vogue cover) Vogue UK revealed its first cover of the new year would feature Swift. Newly appointed Editor in Chief Edward Enninful styled the singer during his second cover after taking the reigns from Alexandra Shulman. Mert Alas and Marcus Piggott, also photographers for all Reputation visuals, shot the twelve-page spread. Two days later, the high fashion mag revealed a poem Swift wrote exclusively to run with the feature, titled, "The Trick to Holding On." Dec. 6 2017 - Swift is one of Time’s “Silence Breakers” Her summer court case was not meant to be a media spectacle, but it was meant to prove a point with the symbolic $1 request. As Time gave the platform to “The Silence Breakers,” women who helped bring sexual assault and harassment to the forefront of the national conversation, as its 2017 Person of the Year, Swift was among the individuals highlighted. The Time interview is the first time Swift has done press about the court case, and in it she detailed reaching out to Kesha for support, as well as her feelings as she sat in the courtroom. "I was angry. In that moment, I decided to forego any courtroom formalities and just answer the questions the way it happened,” Swift said. “This man hadn’t considered any formalities when he assaulted me, and his lawyer didn’t hold back on my mom -- why should I be polite? I’m told it was the most amount of times the word 'ass' has ever been said in Colorado Federal Court." Dec. 8 2017 - Swift Plays iHeartRadio’s Z100 Jingle Ball in NYC The pre-Super Bowl performance wasn’t her only concert of 2017, after all. Camila Cabello and Lindsay Lohan were Swift’s biggest fans at the show, posting videos dancing the night away to various social media platforms. Dec. 11 - Reputation Continues to Be Big Swift earned her 55th Hot 100 hit with Reputation album track "End Game," featuring rapping from Future, Ed Sheeran and herself. Dec. 13 - B'Day & Tix While some fans were able to buy tickets in advance, the general public tickets for Swift's Reputation Tour went on sale Dec. 13, 2017 -- not coincidentally her 28th birthday. She released a tour trailer to celebrate. Dec. 14 - Still Getting 'Ready' Swift dropped a lyric video for BloodPop's bouncy remix of "...Ready for It?"