#we’re so used to the fandom at large telling us no one gives a shit about our OCs or pairings so instead we just band together and support

[crowtrobotx]

One of my favorite things (and there are many) about the Heisenberg x OC community is how there are zero ship wars and little to no infighting. No one is slugging one another over headcanons or trying to be holier than thou or getting weirdly jealous. All the Heisenwives and Heisenhusbands just hype each other up. They are like cats sitting in a circle and batting the hamster in a ball that is Karl around between them.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

get ya thinkin' (that you need me)

Fandom: Twisters Rating: T Word Count: 6028

Summary: Kate, Javi, Tyler, Lily, Dexter, Dani, and Boone—they're all one crew now, and they need funding. Trying to look more responsible on a grant application, they come up with an unconventional solution: two of them should get married. But which two? Javi and Tyler prompt Kate to consider what her friendships could become.

“I know it was me,” Tyler prefaces. “I know I’m the one who said our crew didn’t need PhDs, but…”

“But it might be nice to have one right about now?” Lily guesses.

There’s a collective sigh as they all stare at the screen together. Javi, controlling the touchpad, scrolls down and back up again, like the words might have changed, like this grant application isn’t punishingly particular and hopelessly intimidating.

“If we type it up in the wrong font it gets rejected?” Lily checks, jabbing a finger at the line she picks out of the blur.

Boone shifts and turns to Kate. “You’re doing your PhD, right? How soon you gonna be done?”

Kate gives him a look that asks if he’s shitting her. “Not by next Monday, which is when this application’s due.”

“Fuck,” Javi groans, rubbing his forehead.

“Well, hey, you gotta be good at this kinda thing, Storm Par,” Tyler reasons. “Your old crew had money comin’ out its eyeballs.”

“That was from investors. Highly unethical investors,” he clarifies, with a glance at Kate, who frowns sympathetically. “Private money. We never held a government grant.”

“We need more time,” Kate declares, like just saying that could possibly extend the deadline.

She shoves herself up and away from the motel bed they’re all gathered on the end of. If any of them were responsible adults, they’d be able to admit that they don’t need the deadline to be later, they need to have started working on this sooner. A lot sooner. The trouble is, they’re the furthest thing possible from responsible—at least, not in any way a government grant application would define the term (and, Jesus, does this application ever love defining terms—Definition of Terms is a whole section of the instructions, right at the top). They’re storm-chasers, risk-takers, and no, no one has yet seen fit to bestow upon them large amounts of money to fund their research, so it’s tough to prove they’re a safe bet, a good call, a fast horse.

“The only aspect we may be able to exploit,” Dexter pipes up, “is format.”

“It’s all online, I thought,” Dani says, seated beside him.

“Most of it is, but… could you scroll back up?” he requests of Javi. “Right… there. In the research proposal section, there’s an option for delivery method.”

“Thirty minutes or it’s free?” Boone quips.

Lily rolls her eyes at him.

“No,” Kate says, pacing. “No, it means we might have a better chance if we submit an audio recording of us explaining our research, maybe Javi talking through the data to make the significance really clear. Or we make a slideshow, or film a video.” She pauses to smile. “You guys would be great at that. The point is—”

“The point is,” Tyler picks up, meeting her eyes, “we could convince them on our own terms. No PhD necessary.”

“Though we’d still have to seem stable,” Kate stresses. Everyone nods back at her. “Professional.”

“Who says we’re not professional?” Javi demands.

“Do I need to bring up the pants thing?”

“…No.”

“Everybody in this room knows their shit,” Tyler says.

“Right,” Dani says slowly, “but you can’t say we aren’t… slightly erratic. Not that it’s a bad thing, for what we do. But Kate did say ‘stable.’”

“To be clear,” Kate says, “I’m not telling anybody to quit driving like a total jackass, or making up catchphrases that promote reckless behaviour—”

“Or shooting fireworks into a tornado,” Javi contributes.

“These non-criticisms feel oddly specific,” Tyler says tightly.

“Our roster’s not even stable,” Lily points out. She folds her legs on top of the bland coverlet and the mattress’s springs shriek. “Kate’s only been part of the crew a couple days longer than Javi, and that hasn’t been very long.”

“That is a valid point,” Dexter says.

Kate sighs. “It is. So, I’m asking honestly,” she finishes. “What can we do, by next Monday, to convince some government committee”—she slaps the back of one hand into the palm of the other as she lists criteria—“we are sane, we are stable, we are going to go the distance with this research?”

Into the silence that follows, Javi says, “We could get married.”

There’s another second of absolute quiet before Tyler asks, “Was that an open proposal, or is there a happy couple you had in mind?”

What Kate thinks they’ve probably all been enjoying about the new (or just newly expanded) crew is the lack of awkwardness. Javi’s Storm Par crew was rife with it. While having zero members with a PhD is sometimes a challenge, Kate saw how too many PhDs could be even worse; there was a hierarchy amongst those guys, and if anyone dared offer a suggestion, the rest of them would throw sidelong glances at one another. Kate figured a few of them could straight-up go to hell (particularly Scott), but she still doesn’t know how Javi stood it.

But even that awkwardness was clearly power-based. Javi’s suggestion is different, more personal, and definitely more awkward.

The vibe in the motel room is immediately screwed up. Some people look like they want to laugh, others are frowning in contemplation, and Javi’s just blushing, not looking anyone in the eye. Still, because he’s Javi, he doesn’t chicken out. He tries to make his case.

“You guys heard of Jo Harding?”

“Fuck yeah, I’ve heard of Jo Harding,” Dani announces. “Who in the tornado game hasn’t?”

“Well, she’s an Oklahoma girl, so I was just checking.” Javi shrugs. “Her husband was her partner when she chased.”

“Yeah, but she had a whole crew,” Boone says.

“Yeah, but she also had a husband.”

“Stop mansplaining Jo Harding,” Lily complains, flinging herself backwards on the bed.

“It’s not like having a husband made her a good scientist, or a good storm-chaser,” Dani says.

“I’m not saying that!” Javi protests.

“Yeah, dude, Jo’s husband isn’t the most interesting thing about her,” Boone adds.

“I can’t believe we’ve now spent more time talking about Jo Harding’s husband than Jo Harding,” Lily groans.

“They won the grant!” Javi bursts out. “They won the fucking grant!”

Tyler, who’s mostly just been observing the crew with amusement up to this point, looks at Javi and cocks an eyebrow. “This grant?”

“Yes! This grant! I’m just trying to say they’re a powerful team. Formidable. I’ve read, like, every article ever done on them—”

“Woah, woah, woah. You have? That’s intense.”

Kate glances at Tyler and explains, “He had a crush.”

“Sounds more like an obsession.”

“I admired their work,” Javi says defensively.

“Oh, is that what you were admiring in that one article where you cut across the text and just kept the photo of Jo?” Kate checks, smirking.

“What have I done to you, Kate? Goddamn.”

“Finish your point,” she prompts.

Javi sighs and braces his hands behind him, leaning back carefully so the laptop doesn’t slide from his lap.

“They always talk about how they make each other better. Not that the other person is why they’re good at their job in the first place,” he clarifies, shooting glances at Lily, Boone, and Dani, “but that they look out for each other, stop each other from making stupid decisions, keep each other safe. And yeah, a crew can do that too. A good crew. But a married couple just sells devotion and, and conviction in a different way. All I’m saying is it’s something to try.”

“It’s not an unreasonable proposition,” Dexter allows when it’s clear that Javi’s done. Dexter’s calm, steady voice giving the idea his tentative approval strengthens its merit for everyone in the room. Kate can see it. She exhales.

“Alright,” she says. “Well, we don’t have a lot of time to mull this over before the deadline, but let’s give Javi’s suggestion some thought. And any other ideas you guys come up with. Maybe reconvene on this tomorrow?”

There are nods and murmurs of approval.

The room they’re in is Lily and Dani’s, so the crewmembers not hanging around to chill file out onto the sidewalk that lines the motel. Kate’s just thinking about going back to her own room—well, hers and Javi’s, with matching twin beds in baby-blue coverlets that make her think of the Shining twins—and getting some sleep. They chased yesterday, then stayed up late last night going over the data. They’ve all been eating at weird hours, and now with the stress of the grant application… Kate runs a hand over her face. She can hear Javi and Tyler talking behind her, but she doesn’t think anything of it until she’s unlocked the motel room door and Tyler follows her and Javi inside.

“We need to talk,” Tyler states the second the door’s closed.

“‘We could get married,’” Kate quotes. (Sarcastically, but yeah, she’s beat.) “‘We need to talk.’ You’re both so dramatic today.”

“That’s what we need to talk about,” Tyler says, ignoring her sarcasm.

“What?”

“Getting married.”

Kate gives him a slow blink.

“We just did,” she says. “That’s what that conversation was.” She points in the direction of the other motel room.

“But we need to decide,” Javi says.

“We will. Everyone needs some time to think.”

“No, they don’t,” Tyler says.

“Uh, yes, they do. If they’d either thought it was the best solution or a total flop, they would’ve said right after Javi explained.”

“I know our crew better than you do, Sapulpa—just a fact. Trust me, they had an opinion.”

“Then how come nobody said anything?” Kate asks skeptically.

“Because it isn’t about them,” Javi says.

“What? Of course it is! The grant is for the team. We can put it towards a new drone for Lily and get Boone some more—”

“Not the grant. The marriage.”

“The marriage would be for the grant.” Kate has a bad feeling that she’s started talking to Javi like he’s an idiot, but she’s seriously just not getting it. Why isn’t he just saying what he means? She’s tired.

Tyler laughs. He laughs! She stares at him.

“Come on,” he says, “you have to know why they all clammed up.”

Kate looks to Javi. Javi, the guy she basically ghosted until he showed up at her workplace to drag her back here. Javi, who’s still her best friend, no matter what. Javi, who she really needs to make sense right now.

“They didn’t ask any questions,” Javi says gently.

“Most importantly,” Tyler cuts in, “nobody asked who this hypothetical marriage would be between. You catch that?”

“That’s just because we need to decide whether or not we’re doing it first,” Kate says, crossing her arms.

“You really think that’s why? And not that it’s because of the way Storm Par here looks at you, or the fact that he’s the one who suggested getting hitched? It’s not just a grant application, Kate. There are other stakes here.”

Kate flushes lightly, and when she chances a look at Javi, he is too. Tyler’s not exactly wrong, but he isn’t quite right either; she and Javi go back a long way. They care about one another—which is natural, especially after what they survived. Kate would also be lying if she tried to tell Tyler she hasn’t noticed those looks of Javi’s, that she’s blind to the way his steady brown eyes linger on her when she speaks, find her when she’s still, working out the math for their next planned chase. She doesn’t hate it, that way he has of looking at her.

Javi temporarily saves her from responding. Once he’s made his point, she’s not entirely grateful.

"Me?" he says to Tyler. “Those guys aren’t keeping their opinions to themselves because of some obvious claim I was staking on Kate. I’m subtle.”

The remark is so pointed that it’s no wonder Tyler reacts to it, even as Kate has a private, silent panic.

“I never staked a claim on Kate,” Tyler assures him.

“Sure you did,” Javi argues. “You stayed at her house. You met her mom. You basically poached her from Storm Par.”

“I didn’t need to poach her. She came willingly. And I bet you’ve stayed at her house and met her mom! You’ve known each other, what? Forever? That about right?”

“Well, what about you two?” Kate interrupts, gesturing between the men. “Old rivals, new allies. Some unresolved tension from chasing the same storms, maybe? How do you know the crew weren’t picturing you at the altar?”

While this seems to genuinely bewilder Javi, Tyler hitches his jeans and shrugs. “Wouldn’t be my first rodeo.”

“I just don’t think anybody’s thinking anything.”

“They might not all be thinking the same thing,” Tyler allows her, “but they’re all thinkin’ something. The two people getting married to give us a shot at this grant are standing in this room right now. I guarantee it.”

The three of them eye each other.

“If there’s going to be a marriage,” Javi says.

“Oh, there is,” Tyler says. “You made too good a case for it. Whole lotta money on the line. Seems too logical not to try.”

“Nothing about this is logical,” Kate decides, and goes to brush her teeth in the tiny bathroom.

When she comes back out, Tyler’s gone. She cedes the bathroom to Javi so he can get ready for bed too. They exchange a look as he passes her, but she waves him on, pats his shoulder as he passes. They can talk when he’s ready. Well, maybe not ready, but ready for bed. She goes to her squeaky twin and sits down to wait.

“It’s insane,” Kate says a little later.

They’re lying down, facing each other across the divide between their narrow beds. There’s an old movie playing on the perhaps equally old TV that sits against the opposite wall; they’ve turned the sound way down. The screen’s glow provides the only light. Kate thumps her pillow for emphasis rather than elaborating. She just doesn’t have anything smart left to say on this topic.

“It’s also not,” Javi counters. He’s run out of more sophisticated arguments too.

“So, two of us are really going to get married?”

“Hey, we do crazier shit literally every day. And it’s not, like, real. Whether or not it helps us get the grant, the marriage can be annulled, or they can get divorced, or whatever. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Kate laughs, and then Javi laughs too. She likes watching him laugh; his smile hangs on for such a long time after he stops. It’s sweet.

“Who do you think it should be?” she wonders.

“I mean, I would do it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I suggested it, right? Gotta put my… I don’t know, my vows where my mouth is.”

“So rational,” Kate notes, sort of joking, though she does also admire Javi’s pragmatism. He’s thinking of the crew, how to look out for them, both by securing this grant and by sparing them the need to enter into this plan which is—regardless of what he says—a little insane. When she thinks of it that way… “I guess I would too.”

“You would get married?”

“Why not? Since it has to be somebody. You’re my best friend, anyway,” she says, sending him a soft smile. “It wouldn’t be like marrying a stranger. Besides, nothing would really change.”

“You don’t think so?” Javi asks earnestly. Which is not the easiest question to answer. But Javi has more to say before he’ll let her try. “You know… I mean, I told you…”

“That you would’ve done anything for me, back then,” Kate fills in. She sees Javi nod against his pillow. She exhales slowly. “Yeah. I didn’t really pick up on that. I just thought we were friends.”

“We were friends. We are. I just felt a little more for you than that. Not that I ever would’ve done anything. You and Jeb were great together. I wouldn’t have been dumb enough to try to come between you, and I didn’t want to. I just sort of quietly…” Javi grins like he can’t help it. “…had this thing for you.”

Kate returns his grin, amused because it’s easier to feel amused than to feel sad. She wants to be able to talk about Jeb, hasn’t let herself in so long, putting herself more than a thousand miles away from anyone else who knew him. Now, it feels so good to hear Jeb’s name in the mouth of somebody who cared about him too. With Javi, Jeb will never be forgotten. Kate will never lose the opportunity to talk about Jeb, to reminisce. Javi will be as respectful now as he apparently was then, keeping his own wants reined in so Jeb and Kate could be happy with each other. Who should she—should either of them—allow to make her happy now? With his caring, trusting eyes trained on her as the light from the TV flashes and shifts, Javi seems like a pretty good choice.

“It’d be more than practical for you,” she acknowledges.

“It would.” Javi sighs. “I thought you’d better have all the facts.”

“I appreciate that.”

“And now you can admit it,” he prompts.

“What?”

“That you got the hots for me too.”

They share another laugh. But Kate can only laugh so long as a reaction to his teasing tone, because, yeah, she kind of has started to think of him in that way since being back here in Oklahoma. She’s been trying to wait it out a little. Part of that’s fear; Jeb was her last serious attachment. She hasn’t been able to love somebody like that again (she hasn’t even really tried to date), too scared that something awful will happen. With Javi, it’s a real possibility that he could meet Jeb’s exact same fate, and there’s no place in the whole world Kate could move to that could get her far enough away from here if that happened.

The other reason she’s waited is that coming back, coming home, has provoked a swirling mess of feelings in her—an emotional tornado, if she’s honest, and it has taken honesty to let herself be hit by the force of those feelings instead of retreating to the mental bunker where she’s spent the last five years. Those winds are still calming. In the meantime, Kate hasn’t wanted to confuse the feeling of being home with a desire to be more than friends with Javi.

“Not then,” he says kindly, when she doesn’t reply right away. “I know you didn’t then.”

“Coming back,” Kate starts, her gaze drifting, “hasn’t been totally what I thought it would be. I’d be lying if I said you weren’t part of that. You’re the same as you were then, but different too. I’d never seen you lead a team before.”

“You surprised those guys listened to me?”

“No, I guess I just wasn’t expecting the way you made room for me. I saw that you were still on my side…

“I always have been.”

“I know,” she promises, meeting his eye. “And you trusted me again, immediately—”

“No reason not to,” Javi says easily.

“There were reasons not to,” she insists. Does she need to remind him of their first chase after she arrived? How she panicked? How she was the reason they didn’t get the third scanner set up and so couldn’t collect data that day? “But you vouched for me. Last time, with our team, you trusted me because I was the head of the project. It felt like you trusted me just as fully this time, even though it meant committing all those other people and all your resources.”

She’s surprised, while she’s being this sincere, that Javi laughs at her.

“I never trusted you just because you were the head of the project,” he explains. “I trusted you because you were you. You’re still you. You’re so you that Tyler’s ready to marry you too, and you’ve known each other less than a month.”

Kate makes a dismissive sound.

“You know there’s something between you,” Javi says. “That man is crazy about you.”

“I think he might just be crazy. It’s well-documented on the internet.”

“He’s always close to you.”

“So are you.”

“Exactly,” Javi agrees. “So I can speak to his motives.”

“We survived an EF4 together. He sheltered me with his body in the bottom of a swimming pool. Maybe we just shared an intense, near-death experience.”

“Is that all?”

Kate deflates.

“No. He is pretty hot.”

“That’s what I thought,” Javi says triumphantly.

There’s more to it than that, but Javi can obviously tell that already, so it doesn’t seem worth saying. Kate folds her pillow in half so she can sit up a little higher.

“Well, can we talk about the look on your face?”

“When?”

“‘Wouldn’t be my first rodeo,’” Kate quotes, badly mimicking Tyler’s voice.

“As if he meant anything by that.”

“How do you know?”

“He’s Tyler Owens! He just says shit for dramatic effect!”

Kate crosses her arms and stares at her friend with amusement.

“Probably!” Javi adds weakly.

“I could see you two married. Fake-married.”

“He is good at what he does,” Javi concedes, “when he’s not being a total jackass.”

“Is that all?” she teases.

She hears Javi’s deep sigh.

“I’ve watched a few of his YouTube videos,” Javi confesses. “He takes off his shirt sometimes.”

Kate sinks back down into bed after that. At some point, half-asleep, she hears Javi get up to use the bathroom. He switches off the TV on his way past, and the light quits flickering across Kate’s closed eyelids.

—

They aren’t chasing the next day, so they decide to stay in town for breakfast at the little diner. Because they’re together so much—hunched over the same screens, crammed into the same vehicles, bunked in the same motel rooms—it isn’t unusual for them to not eat together. Four of them practically feels like a family reunion, but Kate’s glad of the company. She, Javi, Tyler, and Boone grab a booth and flap open their cracked plastic menus.

Javi, seated opposite her and next to Boone, keeps looking at her. Kate can feel it without returning his gaze. When she relents and looks back at him while they’re eating, she sees (as she suspected she would) that he isn’t making eyes at her over his pancakes—he’s watching her with Tyler. She makes a face at Javi. There’s nothing to see! Tyler might be sitting beside her, but he’s intent on dipping his bacon into the yolks of his eggs, laughing across the table at something Boone’s telling him he captured in recent footage of the crew goofing around. Tyler and Kate aren’t looking at one another. They aren’t even touching. Yeah, maybe she can feel the heat of him because their thighs are almost close enough to touch on the seat, but it doesn’t mean any more today that it did yesterday. Javi’s just trying to make it weird, because of their conversation last night.

I could make it weird too, she threatens with her eyes. That makes Javi smile and go back to his pancakes.

After they’ve finished though, when Boone and Javi get into a discussion that quickly becomes so focused that it shuts out the other side of the table, Tyler nudges Kate’s arm with his elbow and jerks his head towards the door.

Outside, Kate takes a breath that doesn’t feel deep enough. It’s dry today. A field borders one side of the diner parking lot, and the wheat rustles crisply. Taking it all in is second nature, requires no thought at all. There’s the windspeed she can guess at when a breeze strokes across her arm; there’s wind direction, determined when a slightly stronger gush sweeps a strand of hair loose from her ponytail; she judges the atmospheric pressure with her sinuses; and she gathers all of this without even looking at the sky. When she does, it’s cloudless, flat as a blue tablecloth.

She looks at Tyler. He’s studying her.

“Just trying to pick up some tips,” he says, before she can say anything.

“And? What’ve you learned?”

Tyler just smiles mysteriously.

“You guys talk last night?”

“Me and Javi?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure,” Kate says. She knows it’s a vague answer, but Tyler will be bold enough to ask for the information he really wants. She’d bet on it.

She turns to face him fully, crosses her arms expectantly.

“Did you decide anything?” Tyler asks. He has his cowboy hat on, but the morning light slants low, making him squint when he looks at her. She circles him a little so he’s not staring into the sun.

“It shouldn’t really be a unilateral decision, should it?”

“Typically, yeah, it is just one person who decides to propose.”

“This isn’t about just one person,” Kate reminds him. “It’s about the crew.”

“I’m aware.”

“Well…”

“Well. Are you guys waiting on a group vote then?” he inquires facetiously.

“I didn’t say Javi and I agreed to get married,” she says, frowning.

“You didn’t say you didn’t either.”

She sighs at how frustrating Tyler’s being. He shifts his feet, making the gravel crunch under his boots. There’s a grit to him too—in how he only seems like he’s going along with this but obviously has something he feels he still has to say, something he hasn’t yet given up on. But Kate has a hard time with waiting. She likes making decisions quickly. Somehow, this—the prospect of marriage—is an exception. More complicated than it should be, if it’s just about securing the funding.

(It’s not. She knows it’s not, especially after talking to Javi last night.)

“I’m better at running,” Kate says quickly. “Lately.”

“What?”

“Than chasing.” She offers a weak shrug, not sure what to do with herself, with her body. Tyler’s so solid, standing here in front of her. So steady in his eyes.

“Do you wanna chase me?” He doesn’t sound surprised, exactly, but his words are less than a challenge.

“Seems like it’s my turn. You followed me to New York and all.”

“I didn’t follow you. Your flight got delayed and I had time to buy a ticket. I went with you.”

It’s true, he did. First, they waited out the delay together. The weather didn’t turn into what it might’ve, so it was only an extra hour. Tyler had time to call Boone about coming to get the truck, and Kate had time to call Javi about the storm warning. Javi hadn’t left the airport yet. Initially, he came inside. A tornado was about the only thing that could excuse there now being two trucks parked in the Drop-off Only zone outside. (That poor man.) They sat together in the chairs by the check-in desk, Kate and Tyler on either side of Javi as the three of them studied the weather data on his laptop, the hard-edged coloured shapes that scudded across dark county lines. As soon as they knew it was nothing, Javi said he’d drive back to get Boone himself, then bring him to the airport to collect the truck. Tyler said he didn’t have to. When Javi insisted, Tyler gave way. That surprised all of them. It was maybe the start of the new team.

In New York, Kate let Tyler come to work with her. Her coworkers were the weather-geek demographic Tyler appeared to have never even dreamed of; many of them were familiar with his YouTube channel. One of them asked if Dani was single. Kate grinned as she stood back and watched Tyler lean into his persona for the fans, into his accent—just the same as she had leaned away from her accent when she moved up here, not wanting questions about where she was from. Not wanting to think too often of home. She stood and watched, and then she went to her boss’s office and quit with as much grace as she could manage after taking a week off on almost no notice. Tyler urged the whole place into his trademark call and response on their way out the door.

“That’ll numb any hard feelings for a while,” he assured her as they took the elevator down to the lobby.

“What hard feelings?”

Tyler frowned at her.

“About losing you. They’re gonna miss the hell outta you, Sapulpa.”

“Too bad,” she said. She didn’t think it was true.

“Too bad is right. You belong to the South, and we’re takin’ you back.”

She wouldn’t let him help her pack up her apartment. What had once seemed fresh to her—the white walls and clean lines of starting over—now seemed barren and sad. She found she was glad to leave it. She didn’t want Tyler to see.

He spent his time in other ways. Took a ferry out to Liberty Island. Ate pizza in Brooklyn, pastrami on the Lower East Side. He got up to the Bronx to watch a baseball game at Yankee Stadium. Kate didn’t know how he managed it all. They were in New York for three and a half days. Tyler just beamed and told her his feet were killing him. He still helped her carry all her boxes down the stairs of her walk-up while the train rattled by.

They drove back to Oklahoma in a rental truck. Somehow, Tyler made it take four days, when they probably could’ve done it in two. He bought her an ice cream in St. Louis, laughed as it melted so fast that it ran down her hand.

She guesses this, now, standing in a diner parking lot, is overdue. Even though, like Javi said, she and Tyler have known each other less than a month. It doesn’t feel like it.

“What about you and Javi?” she asks bluntly.

“That could be fun,” Tyler allows. “There are a few more buttons there I wouldn’t mind pushing. Think he’d go for ‘Javi Owens’?”

A laugh bursts from Kate.

“I think you’d be taking your life in your hands if you asked him.”

When Tyler smiles at her, pleased but gentle, she gets it. She got it from them both: they’d get married for the application, probably even find it a lark, but it wouldn’t mean much more than that. There’d be less danger in it. That should be a good thing—a reason for Tyler and Javi to be the ones—but Kate knows it’s also the thing that’s making them all hold their breath. They’re used to this type of crossroad, the three of them, used to tilting their faces to the sky to check the conditions. In the end, they’ll always pick the road that leads them into danger, not away from it.

They both want Kate.

“You don’t have to chase me just because you think you should,” Tyler says sternly. “You don’t have to chase me at all.” His face softens. “I’m standing still.”

She laughs and, incredulous, asks, “Since when?”

“You,” he says simply. “I like Javi, Kate. I do.” But I want it to be me, his eyes say when his mouth stops.

“Yeah.” She knows. She can see that he does.

She and Tyler leave it there, because Boone and Javi are coming out of the diner now. They came in two vehicles and Kate goes with Javi because she knows he’ll let her think.

It’s officially not about the grant anymore. It’s not even about getting married. This is bigger and smaller than that. Kate puts the passenger-side window of Javi’s truck down (an older truck, no Storm Par logo) and leans into the onrush of air. The marriage would be strategic, but a relationship with either Tyler or Javi would be completely real. Real feelings, real expectations, real mess if it fell apart and they kept working together. Which they would; they all love this job too much.

For just a second, Kate shuts her eyes and wishes this wasn’t happening to her. Then she feels silly because, after Jeb, ever falling for another human being seemed astronomically unlikely. She stuck to storms. Had crushes on cloud formations. Made lovesick eyes at the sky when it turned a spooky shade of green. That Javi and Tyler are both ready to be with her seems like a miracle. She’s grateful. She just doesn’t know how to choose.

Javi leaves her alone for the entirety of the short drive. They pull into the motel lot behind Tyler and Boone and drive to the end where the doors of the crew’s motel rooms stand in a line. Dexter, Dani, and Lily are there as they pull in. They’re excited about something; Lily’s practically dancing on the sidewalk and Dani says something to Boone that makes him yank her into a hug.

Kate and Javi spill out of his truck.

“What’s going on?” she asks.

Lily springs towards her, raising her hand to show off a ring that’s slightly too big, slipping up and down her finger as Kate tries to look. Kate’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Dani and I got married!”

“Congratulations,” Tyler says, butting in before Kate can blurt out another What? or When?

“It’s just for the grant,” Lily reminds him, laughing and waving off his sincerity.

“Never thought I’d say somebody married me for the money,” Dani remarks wryly. She’s wearing a ring too. Hers fits better. Kate wonders where they got them, and assumes the tiny antique store on the main strip.

Lily blows Dani a kiss.

“I went as a witness,” Dexter says.

“This just happened?” Javi asks, looking at each of the three conspirators in turn.

Lily shrugs and says, “Yeah.”

“You didn’t talk to the rest of us about it,” Tyler says. Kate doesn’t think it’s quite a complaint, but he seems thrown to have been left out of the loop.

“Oh, like the three of you let us in on whatever you’ve been planning?” Dani demands, pointing out Tyler, Kate, and Javi.

Tyler looks a little sheepish after that.

“Haste was the order of the day,” Dexter says. “It seemed efficient. We can move forward with our application now.”

“Yeah,” Kate agrees, still a little stunned. “For sure. Efficient. Thanks for taking one for the team, you guys.”

“No problem,” Lily says, and pulls her into a hug.

It’s not until later, out at a bar to celebrate the wedding (or the marriage, or their hopes to deceive the government for financial gain, or just their crew, really, who delight in one another’s exploits), that Kate, Javi, and Tyler find themselves at the same table. As if it’s a coincidence. Kate presses the rim of her bottle of beer into her smile.

“Lived to fight another day,” Tyler says over the vibrant twang of music, staring at the rest of their crew as they line dance to and fro across the floor.

It’s so typically dramatic of him that Kate and Javi glance at one another, and Kate has to pinch her nose shut so beer doesn’t shoot out of it when she laughs.

“Owens, I saw you talking to Kate outside the diner this morning,” Javi reveals. “Didn’t look like you were pleading to be spared.”

“You were spying on us?” Kate demands, rounding on Javi. She gives his shoulder a half-hearted shove as he laughs.

“Hey! I wanted to see how things were gonna turn out!”

“I’m pretty curious about how things are gonna turn out myself,” Tyler asserts, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. He gives Kate a significant look. She dodges it, ducking her head with a smile. She can feel the both of them watching her.

Javi reads her right:  “Too soon to say, huh, Kate?”

She looks up, letting her eyes slide from one face to the other, incredibly fond of them both. Slowly, she grins.

“Guess you’ll just have to keep watching the weather,” she tells them.

Kate slaps her hands on the table and rises to join the others on the floor.

[ofmermaidstories]

ur post about oc fic and reader insert fic made me think about how every time i see a post dragging x reader it's kinda just... thinly veiled misogyny.

like i don't wanna get super deep or whatever but a good chunk of x reader writers (myself included) are just women or people socialized as women that have felt unloved or under appreciated in their lives because of their looks or their personality or their skills in things that women/feminine people are expected to excel in and i think that oc/reader insert stories give women a really important space to make themselves (or a version of themselves) the most desired thing which is something that they often don't experience. it's a space where women can feel comfortable and loved in a world where they're under appreciated and tossed aside because of things out of their control and it drives me up a wall when i see people shitting on these spaces and these works because these are just safe spaces for marginalized people PREDOMINATELY CREATED BY MARGINALIZED PEOPLE!!

n e ways this was a long rant oops..

omg see the thing that gets me about the occassional x reader/oc drag is that—the call is coming from inside the house LMAO. like, okay maybe original characters in fics aren’t a niche thing, but x reader sure the hell is, so you have to like, know internet culture/fandom to be aware of it let alone to start using it like an insult, you know? and i would argue that fanfic tends to be a hobby that attracts marginalised identities as you say, so like, why are we clowning on ourselves? LOL. it’s like a mathlete bullying the horse girl of their class, like, buddy—we’re both losers!!! get over yourself LMAO.

i think my favourite dig at x reader (specifically) that i’ve ever seen is some rando on tiktok saying it was fanfic for people who were popular in public school—i think it’s so telling of how other fans might view oc/reader content? like, “oh that’s just some straight girl shit, they’re not putting any effort into it/they’re stealing our precious ship boys for their pORN/they’re ruining the canon story by inserting themselves into it”. and idk—part of it is just human nature (we are always going to shit on things we don’t like, that is a fact) and part of it might be fandom/internet culture at large at the moment (the purity aspect/policing) but at the end of the day all we can do is tell them to eat dog shit when they sprout up in our spaces and ignore ‘em.

idk! it drives me bonkers though, because it does feel like these spaces/niches do get targeted unfairly for it—if it’s not for the simple crime of writing a love story with your favourite character, then it’s like… being old and doing it! because god forbid you be over the age of 18 and still enjoy engaging with fiction! don’t you have a mortgage to go pay? like—i never see that attitude (within a fandom space) directed at the grown-ass men and women and gender neutral pals who play like, Dungeons and Dragons. No one (within a fandom space!) tells them they’re weird for forty-hour long campaigns where they fight and fall in love and idk, put dragons in some dungeons or something. no—it’s the blatant love stories that get picked on. the ones written by girls (gender neutral).

romance—and falling in love—is one of the most universal feelings/acts in the world. we want to fall in love with everything! in every world! we wanna—fall in love and be loved by superheroes and the villains they fight and the monsters in the dark and the good guys that rush in with swords and the cute barista at the coffee shop down the road. if other fans wanna get hung up on the fact that a tiny fraction of others want to insert themselves in these incredible worlds and experience everything they want to (having powers; being saved. saving someone else—saving yourself) then that’s their problem lmaoooo. im sorry you can’t have fun and create whimsy for yourself by drawing an oc who wins the sports festival and saves bakugou from being kidnapped—but im built different. 😌 and im gonna have fun while im here.

[ilikekidsshows]

Okay so I'm not going to act like Chloé is a harmless angel (trust me those people irritate me almost as much as the haters do).

But am I the only one who finds it kind of hypocritical that she's the one who's punished for relying on her Miraculous when at least FOUR other characters have relied on their Miraculouses to improve themselves instead of doing it on their own?

Adrien relies on his to run away from his model life, Zoé relies on her's to have any character at all, Juleka relied on her's to learn how to speak to people, and Sabrina relied on her's to break away from Chloé. There's more examples, but those are just the fair few.

Like don't get me wrong, I get why Chloé was taken off the team as much as I hate it (not because I'm dying to see her as a hero, but because it would've been nice to have a holder that doesn't flock to Ladybug all the time), but I feel like the above stuff really undercuts the message of improving one's self without handholding. Like you could've done a million things with Chloé misusing a Miraculous and this show didn't do shit with it.

Did Chloé actually try to improve herself with her Miraculous, though? Like, don’t get me wrong, I love stories about heroes growing into their powers and becoming better people through trying to find a use for their sudden superpowers, but that’s very explicitly not the story that was going on with Chloé. Chloé was using her Miraculous to improve her lot in life. She wasn’t trying to grow as a person, she was trying to get something she wanted, while her personality remained largely the same.

However, I also don’t believe in moralizing over what heroes use their powers for, as long as they are ultimately still heroes. I do think heroes should get some joy out of being a hero, because otherwise the story is just about a good, caring person suffering for the sake of the world, which is not a story that appeals to me. I don’t like stories about noble suffering in the face of hardship and zero acknowledgement, because it glorifies the suggestion that we should all just buck up and suffer in silence no matter how unfairly we’re treated because that’s the “morally right” thing to do.

Basically, I think it’s fine that the characters in Miraculous use their Miraculous powers to get stuff they want as long as they don’t hurt others to do so, which they don’t. Frankly, if Chloé’s unreliability as a hero was just because she wanted the accolades she gets as a hero, I’d also think she should get to keep her Miraculous, because that’s still a motivation to do good. I also agree that having less shiny examples of heroes in a team causing friction can create interesting team dynamics. However, that’s also not what Chloé’s story is actually about.

Chloé made her identity public. One of the big points of this series is the secrecy around the Miraculous and the secret identities. The only exception to this is the writers’ tool Félix, and it’s the reason I think he is one. The other characters constantly talk about the importance of keeping their identities a secret, it’s literally the lesson and main point of the episode ‘Sapotis’, and the first thing Chloé does with her Miraculous is tell everyone she has it, show them how it works, and what hero she becomes with it. Chloé gets repeatedly told that it’s not safe to give her a Miraculous, but she refuses to listen. Actually, I’m pretty sure that no one in the show actually says that she doesn’t deserve her Miraculous. It was always presented as a security issue, even when the characters talk about it outside of Chloé’s presence.

The view of Chloé as undeserving of a Miraculous comes from the fandom, who’ve seen how she never started treating her classmates better, actually treating Sabrina even worse, despite her claims of wanting to be a hero. The show doesn’t point out her hypocrisy in this, which is why she’s never rejected on that principle by the characters. Chloé was morally unworthy, but that wasn't the reason in-story for her getting "fired". The only reason Marinette gives for not giving her a Miraculous is her identity being public posing a security risk.

[somekndofnature]

No Other Way #23

Two domaystic2022 prompts in one day?  Look at me go! This story literally just poured out of my fingertips, without my normal amount of struggle. It is the first actual fight I've written, though. So, I'm still a little nervous about it. I'm also slightly anxious about the subject matter but I'll leave that to all of you to judge. I hope you like it! This is non-explicit, sfw. 

Day 23: Gossip in the Salon

Fandom: Inuyasha, Modern MMA AU

Pairing: Inuyasha/Kagome

Rating: G

AO3

Leaving Like a Day That's Done a Part of a Season

Sango zipped up her puffy black coat and opened the door of the salon, shivering against the sudden blast of icy air from outside. Beside her, Kagome flipped up the collar of her tan pea coat and huddled into her fluffy green scarf, taking a deep breath before stepping out into the elements. It was a frigid winter day and the wind was cutting through the city streets like a knife.

Sango groaned, so desperately wanting to shove her hands into her pockets for a little warmth, but loathe to chance ruining her recent manicure. She looked down at her bright pink nails and smiled. This had been just what she needed; a little time with her best friend and an early Christmas present to herself. 

“That was fun,” Kagome said as if reading her thoughts.

“Yeah, it was,” she agreed with a smile. “Thank you for suggesting it.” 

She shrugged. “I felt like we could both use a little time to ourselves.” 

“Tell me about it,” Sango replied with a roll of her eyes. “You wanna grab some lunch?” 

Kagome nodded. “Sure, there’s a little cafe just a block away. I normally go there for coffee but they have sandwiches and stuff like that.” 

“Sounds good.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Then we can do a little Christmas shopping.” 

“Ugh,” her friend moaned as they weaved around other pedestrians. “I need your help. I have no idea where to start.”

Sango smirked; that was very unlikely. Kagome was one of the most intuitive people she had ever met. She had the annoying ability to give heartfelt and insightful gifts, the kind that always had Sango on the verge of tears. “I’m sure you have it under control.” 

Kagome grimaced. “I got a late start this year, but school just kept me so busy.” 

“You’re finished with classes now though, right?” she asked as they came to a stop at the crosswalk of a busy intersection.

“Yes, thank goodness. I was so burnt out.” 

A crowd of people was gathering around them and Sango reached over to grab her cuff, pulling her friend closer. The city was normally safe but Kagome was a magnet for trouble. “How far is this place? I’m starving.”

“It's just across the street.” She smiled and linked their arms together, pointing to a nearby building.

It felt like forever before the light finally changed, indicating that it was safe to cross. They hurried to the other side of the street as Kagome carried on about class projects and tight deadlines. By the time they reached the cafe, Sango’s teeth were chattering and she sped up her steps. Behind the glossy large windows, the small restaurant glowed with inviting warmth. She was so eager to get inside that she didn’t notice when her friend suddenly went quiet. 

Kagome froze on the sidewalk, mouth parted around a startled breath.  

“What is it?” Sango searched the windows for a second. 

“Shit!” Kagome yelped, grabbing Sango’s arm and yanking her down behind the shrubberies lining the cafe’s patio.

“What–Kagome!” 

“Shh,” she hissed.  

“Who are we hiding from?” Sango asked.

Kagome’s cheeks took on a deeper shade of color. “Inuyasha is in there.” 

She shook her head and looked heavenward. And they had almost managed to pass the Bechdel test. 

“And we’re hiding from him because…” Sango peeked over the holly bush and into the window, eyes widening as the source of her friend’s discomfort became painfully apparent. 

Now that she was looking for him, it was easy to spot the back of Inuyasha’s silver head and white ears. What had Kagome crouched on the concrete, twisting her fingers until her knuckles turned white, was the woman seated across from him. Kikyo.

Inuyasha’s ex had always been a bit of a sore spot for the couple, having come between them more than once. Sango really couldn’t blame Kagome for being intimidated by the other woman. She was a stunning beauty with long glossy dark hair that starkly contrasted with her pale skin and ruby red lips that were currently pulled up into an elegant smile. 

Kagome could hold her own when it came to physical beauty, however, she did have a bit of a jealous streak, which was understandable given the circumstances. Kikyo had a bad habit of calling on Inuyasha whenever her life hit any little hiccup. Being the good guy that he was, the idiot never just told the woman to handle her own shit. He still considered Kikyo a friend and, as with any of his friends, he would move heaven and earth to help them. 

Sango understood and could sympathize but it really frustrated her that his ‘honor code’ sometimes came at the cost of hurting her best friend. Kagome would never think of asking him to cut Kikyo out of his life and, for the most part, she took Inuyasha at his word when he swore they were just friends and would remain that way forever. 

It didn’t stop her insecurities from eating her alive. Kagome didn’t always have a clear view of herself or the irreplaceable part she held in Inuyasha’s life. That hanyou would walk through fire for her but more importantly, he let himself be vulnerable with her. He trusted her in a way that he never would another, that much was clear from watching them interact. So…why was her friend currently hunkered down on the pavement with her eyes growing more glassy by the second? 

Sango’s irritation flared. “Well, let’s go in there,” she said in a heated tone, rising to her feet. “I have some questions for that asshole.” 

“No!” Kagome yanked her back down. 

“Why not?” She pulled her arm out of her friend’s death grip and straightened her jacket. “Don’t you want to know why he’s here getting so cozy with Kikyo?” 

“They’re not getting cozy,” she snapped. “They’re just…having a friendly cup of coffee.” 

Sango rolled her eyes. “And did he tell you he was going out for a friendly cup of coffee with his ex? 

Kagome licked her lips and grimaced. “Well no, but he doesn’t have to tell me everything. It’s none of my business.” 

“The hell it isn’t,” she said, voice growing louder. “You’re living together, Kagome. I think you deserve some kind of explanation.” 

“Shhh…would you keep your voice down?” she whispered, making a shushing motion with her hands.

“No, I will not. Now, you get your butt inside and confront him.” 

“No!” Kagome pushed some hair out of her eyes, exasperated breaths puffing in front of her face. “Look, I trust him, okay?”

Sango raised a dubious brow. “If that’s true, then I still don’t see why we can’t go have a pleasant lunch in the same cafe.” 

“Because it won’t be pleasant,” she said. “It will be a whole…thing. Inu will get defensive, Kikyo will talk down to me like I’m a child, and it will just make me angry. So, can we just skip it? Let’s go somewhere else.” 

Sango passed a discerning look over her friend. Kagome’s eyes were getting red in time with her cheeks, breaths coming faster from between her lips. She could practically see the million questions and doubts already circling through her mind. 

She sighed. “Fine, but let's go to a different part of the city. I don’t want to be dodging them all day.” She grimaced when Kagome’s face fell. “Not that they’re going to be together all day.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Thanks.” 

“Look, whatever we’re going to do, we need to do it,” she said. “We’re starting to attract attention.” 

Kagome glanced up, realizing that they had become an obstruction on the sidewalk that grumbling pedestrians had to navigate around. She jumped to her feet and grabbed Sango’s arm, hiding behind her collar as she dragged her away.  

“Come on, there’s a train station around the corner.” 

“Fine, but you’re buying.” 

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Inuyasha released a ragged breath, dancing just out of reach of the massive fist aimed at his head. He backed up toward the roped off edges of the ring, reassessing his current sparring partner. Chokyukai was in rare form today, actually providing a challenge for once.

The boar demon smirked, beating his fists against his chest. “Come on, you can do better than that, shorty.”

“Fuck off, at least I can fit through most doors.”

“Don’t let him get in your head, Inuyasha,” MIroku called from just outside the ring. 

“I’m not, that’s just a crap insult. He’s a fucking bus, bigger than everyone,” he replied in a clear reference to the boar’s prominent gut.

“Your father could have crushed me under his claws.” Chokyukai barrelled straight at him, seeming a little lighter on his feet than usual.

Inuyasha scowled, darting forward to meet him head on. “Too bad you’ll have to settle for mine!”

“Don’t just rush in, Inuyasha!” MIroku shouted from the sidelines. “Wait for an opening!” 

“I’ll make my own opening!”  

Inuyasha jumped just as the boar demon took a swipe at him, slamming a knee into the bottom of his jaw. He winced as sharp tusks sliced into the skin on either side of the joint. Gritting his fangs against the pain, he fell back on his other foot, pushing off Chokyukai’s generous stomach and spinning through the air. 

Inuyasha felt a fleeting moment of triumph before he was yanked to an abrupt stop by his ankle and slammed into the padded floor. He shook the stars from his eyes in time to see dual meaty fists come flying down toward his chest and rolled to the side just in time. Chokyukai hit the mat hard with an echoing boom.

Outside of the ring, Miroku was calling out orders that were less than helpful. “You need to be faster.” 

“Thanks for the fucking tip jackass!” Inuyasha growled as he jumped onto his feet. 

He looked down at the deep slashes on either side of his leg and grimaced. It didn’t hurt really; it was little more than an annoyance, but he could be damn sure Kagome was going to get all weepy over it. Inuyasha could only hope that it would be healed enough by the time he got home. He already had some uncomfortable news to share with his girlfriend and didn’t need to add anything else on top of it. Although…maybe he could get some sympathy points? 

“Inuyasha! Pay attention!” Miroku yelled as the Chokyukai made a hasty grab for him. 

He leapt out of the way, but not fast enough. The boar demon’s fingers grasped at the ends of his long silver ponytail and held tight, yanking him forward. Inuyasha snarled in pain but managed to get his feet under him and spring into the air, spinning to plant a solid kick against Chokyukai’s temple. 

He grunted and stumbled to the side, releasing his grip. The boar demon fell to his knees, holding his head in his hands.

Inuyasha grinned and opened his mouth to deliver another insult only to be cut off by a furious feminine voice. 

“Inuyasha!” 

His head whipped towards the sound of his name. 

“Inuyasha! Where the hell are you?” The shout echoed down the gym’s short front hallway, its owner appearing seconds behind. 

“What’s up, Sango?” he asked, right before a solid hit slammed into the back of his head with all the force of a freight train and everything went dark

Miroku was shaking him into consciousness what seemed like a second later. The fluorescent lights above blinded him, stabbing into his brain like an ice pick. Inuyasha groaned as two of his friend’s face appeared in front of his vision. 

“That’s it,” Miroku said, patting his cheek. “Open your eyes.” 

“I’m up, I’m up,” he grumbled, batting his hands away. “Quit smackin’me.”

He could hear Sango ripping Chokyukai a new asshole and the boar demon’s pitiful string of wailed apologies. She shouldn’t have bothered with the overprotective crap. He was the idiot who turned his back on an opponent; he’d just thought Chokyukai was already down.

“He’s awake,” Miroku called out, cutting off her tirade. 

Sango was at his side a second later, helping him into a sitting position. “Inuyasha? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped; his pride hurt more than anything else. That fucking asshole had sucker-punched him!

“Take it easy,” Miroku warned and placed a steadying hand on his bare shoulder. 

Inuyasha brushed him off, shaking the double vision away before turning a glare in Chokyukai’s direction. The dickhead was already gone, probably slinked off as soon as Sango’s attention was diverted. Fucking coward!

Inuyasha cursed, rubbing at his aching head. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Sango asked, her voice compassionate but still stiff. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

“Good,” she said before landing a solid punch against his arm.

“Sango!” Miroku protested. 

“Dammit! What the hell was that for?” Inuyasha snarled, baring his fangs at her. 

She rolled her eyes and stood. “You’re lucky that’s all I’m doing, idiot.” 

Miroku sighed. “Now let's all just take a deep breath–” 

Inuyasha jumped to his feet beside her, unable to keep himself from stumbling when the whole world swayed. “What the fuck is your problem, Sango? Is it your time of the month or something?” 

“You’re digging your own grave,” Miroku mumbled, lumbering to a stand behind him. 

Her face went five shades of red. “No, you two-timing asshole!”

“Who are you calling two-timing, dammit?” 

“You!” she snapped, pushing a finger into his chest. ”Or was that not you I saw, sitting in a cafe with Kikyo this afternoon?” 

“Oooh,” Miroku whispered from behind him. “Tread lightly, my friend. Tread lightly.” 

“Shut up,” he growled over his shoulder before turning back to her. “Are you seriously going to hassle me over that? I ran into Kikyo and her fiance, while I was grabbing a cup of coffee. He asked me to sit with them for a while. I didn’t want to be a dick, so I agreed.” 

“Since when are you not a dick?”

“I will be from now on if this is the kind of reaction I’m gonna get,” Inuyasha replied. “I endure thirty of the most uncomfortable minutes of my life and then get yelled at for it? No, thank you.”

“Well, it’s not like it was some gossip we heard at the salon. We saw the two of you and it looked pretty damn comfortable from where we were standing.”

Inuyasha stilled for a second before grabbing her arm and pulling her closer. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘we’?” 

“Kagome was with me, jackass,” Sango said, shaking him off.

“Fuck! Where is she now?” he asked, glancing behind her in case he had missed something.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “She isn’t here. She went home; said that she ‘had a headache’.”

Inuyasha released a string of curses and stomped toward the edge of the ring, slipping out from between the ropes. 

“Inuyasha!” Miroku called. “We’re not finished with training for the day.” 

“Yes we are,” he replied without looking back.

“Hey, where do you think you’re going?” Sango asked. 

“Where the fuck do you think?” he snapped back, snatching up his duffle bag from a nearby bench.

“You don’t want to at least change first?” 

“No!” he shouted back, already halfway down the hall.

Sango turned to Miroku with her eyebrows raised. “He knows he’s half-naked, right?” 

“I don’t think he cares.” 

—-------------------------------------------------------------

Inuyasha jumped onto his icy balcony railing, cursing when his bare feet fought for purchase. He teetered for a moment before regaining his balance and hopping down onto the rough concrete. He rubbed at the slowly healing lump on the back of his head and growled under his breath, still feeling a slight fog clinging to his mind. Perfect! Just what he fucking needed. 

He shivered as a biting wind pricked at the bare skin of his shoulders. In hindsight, he probably should have thrown on more clothes over his skimpy workout shorts before taking off. In his defense, Inuyasha had been pretty eager to get home, but now, he found himself lingering outside of the sliding glass door, already dreading the no doubt epic fight to come. 

Why the fuck hadn’t he just said ‘no’ when Kikyo’s fiance insisted he join them? What exactly had he been trying to prove? But he already knew the answer and it made him feel more than a little guilty. He’d been trying to prove that he was over it, not to Kikyo, but to himself, and he had succeeded…for the most part. 

Aside from the general awkwardness that came from meeting an ex’s current partner, the impromptu run-in wasn’t terrible. Suikotsu had seemed like a decent enough guy, gentle and soft-spoken, but with an inherent confidence that made you want to trust him. He probably needed that characteristic, since he worked as a pediatrician. 

The guy was a prodigy and likely loaded, but all that really mattered was that Kikyo seemed happy. Inuyasha had never seen her so content in all the years that he had known her. That was all he could ask for, and he was glad to know that she had finally found the same love and support that he had. 

It made him all the more irritated that Kagome hadn’t just come right out and asked him about it, though. She didn’t need to sic Sango on him; he would have told her the truth. After all this time, how could she still not trust him? Armed with this righteous anger, Inuyasha ripped open the door and slammed it behind him, tossing his bag on the floor. 

“Kagome!” he shouted through the quiet apartment.

A soft feminine gasp answered him, followed by the quick patter of small feet from their bedroom.

He chased after the sound, rounding their doorway to find Kagome with her back to him, face nearly shoved into a dresser drawer as she put away the stacks of folded clothes on the foot of the bed.  

“What’s up?” she asked with a forced brightness.

She didn’t need to bother with the pretense; he could already smell the scent of her recent tears in the air and, if not, the dark blotch on his pillow would have given her away. 

Inuyasha scowled. “Do you have something you want to ask me?” 

“What do you mean?” she replied, finally glancing over her shoulder. Her mouth fell open. “Inuyasha! You’re practically naked; it’s freezing outside.” 

“And? What does that matter?” 

Kagome rolled her beautiful blue eyes. “I’ll be sure to remember that one the next time you complain about my outfit when I go out for girls’ night with Sango and Rin.” 

He bristled at the reminder of their most recent point of contention. “Hey! I’m not the one with the sweet ass and legs that won’t quit.” 

“Agree to disagree,” she said with a smirk as she grabbed another stack of clean shirts.

His shoulders bunched. “Cut the crap, ‘Gome. I know you saw me with Kikyo this afternoon.”

Her body went stiff as she turned back to the dresser, busying herself with tucking them into a drawer. “And?”

“And, why didn’t you call me? Text me? Something?” he asked. “Anything other than sending Sango to give me fucking concussion.” 

“What?! What do you mean ‘give you a concussion’?” Kagome whipped around, eyes searching over his body with more intent and widening when she caught a good view of the twin gashes on his leg. “Inu, you’re bleeding!” She rushed to his side, kneeling down to inspect the inconsequential wound. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, snatching her wrist and pulling her back onto her feet. “Don’t change the subject! Why didn’t you talk to me?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, looking away with a casual shrug that wasn’t fooling anyone. “It’s none of my business.” 

Up close like this, he could see that her eyes were still red and lashes clumped together with tears. “Fuck that!” Inuyasha snapped. “It clearly upset you enough to turn our friend on me.” 

“I didn’t turn Sango on you,” she replied. “I told her to leave it alone.” 

“Well, you must have been just as convincing then as you are now,” he growled. “Couldn’t you try having a little faith in me?” 

“I am trying!” she shouted, ripping her hand from his grasp with fresh tears gathering in her eyes. “All I’ve done all day is try. Do you think I want to feel this way?” she asked, voice shaking as she took a few steps away from him. “Do you think I enjoy being insecure? Or needing to talk myself down from a full blown panic attack? But I’m trying!”

“Then why the hell are you sitting here crying by yourself?” 

“Because I’m only human, Inuyasha!” Kagome said, brushing away some of the strands of hair that were stuck to her wet cheeks. “I cry when something hurts and it doesn't always make sense. It isn’t always logical, but I was dealing with it on my own! Why can’t you let me do that?”  

“Because you shouldn’t be crying over something like this,” he replied. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Kagome.” 

“I know, I know you weren’t,” she said before taking a quick step towards him and cupping his face in her hands. “Look, you didn’t do anything wrong, Inu.” 

He searched her face and released a frustrated huff, feeling more confused than ever. “Then I don’t know what to do here, ‘Gome. Tell me what to do.”  

“You don’t need to do anything,” she replied, brushing her thumbs along his cheeks. “I wasn’t going to make it your problem. I was going to wait for you to talk to me about it, because I knew you would. I do trust you, Inuyasha, I swear. I knew I would feel better the moment I saw you. You’re the one who came home and picked a fight.”

He searched for the right words–never a strong suit of his. When his head throbbed after several long moments of silence, Inuyasha sighed. “I was gonna tell you.” 

“I believe you,” she assured him, threading her fingers through the hair around his face. “Now will you please sit down so I can look at your leg?” 

Any remaining outrage drained out of him and Inuyasha nodded, walking the few steps to the bed before plopping down on the mattress. 

Kagome disappeared into the bathroom and returned seconds later with the first aid kit in her hands. She knelt in front of him, feather light touch brushing over his broken skin. 

He was still unsettled, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Kagome to make her true feelings on the matter known, but she only cooed and fussed over his wounds. Inuyasha flushed with guilt; maybe he was the one who needed to have a little more faith. 

Kikyo was such a well-worn and sore subject between them. He had expected Kagome to be angry, preparing himself for an argument before he even walked through the door, but things were different between them now; they were settled, comfortable, committed. He should’ve known that she would at least give him the chance to explain. Come to think of it, he never really had.

“I wasn’t meeting her there,” he said, breaking the still heavy silence.

Kagome focused on pulling out a few alcohol swabs and ripping them open. “Okay.” 

“I ran into her,” he continued, wincing as she wiped the blood away from the rapidly healing wounds. “She was there with her fiance and he asked me to sit with them for a bit.” 

“Well, how did that go?” she asked. 

Inuyasha groaned, rubbing at his eyes. “It was super awkward but otherwise fine.” 

She hit a particularly sensitive spot and he hissed in discomfort. “Sorry, sorry,” she said before blowing the sting away. “Is that better? Does it still hurt?” 

“Nah,” he replied. “My head’s still aching, though.” 

“Your head?” she asked with a frown as she crawled onto the bed behind him. 

Inuyasha grimaced as she gently pulled the elastic from his long ponytail. 

Kagome delved delicate fingers into his hair, feeling along his scalp until he tensed and she sucked in a breath. “Oooh Inu, that’s a nice bump. What happened?” 

“Chokyukai sucker-punched me while I was distracted,” he spat. “I thought he was down for the count. So, it took me off guard.” 

“Hmm,” she grumbled. “I’m gonna need to have some words with him.” 

“Don’t, it’s not a big deal,” he said. “Besides, Sango already chewed him out.”

Her soothing touch drifted lower, thumbs rubbing into the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders. Inuyasha groaned, letting his head fall forward in a blatant invitation to keep going. 

“Mmmm, does that feel good, puppy?”

“Yes,” he moaned, arching into her touch. “Don’t stop.”

Kagome chuckled but continued unwinding the tension in his body until Inuyasha nearly melted into a puddle on the floor.

“So,” she hedged, breaking the easy silence. “What’s he like? Kikyo’s fiance.” 

He shrugged. “Seems like a good guy.  He’s a doctor, works with kids, everything Kikyo has ever wanted.”

“Is she happy?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he replied.

“Good, I’m glad,” she said, continuing her impromptu massage.  

Inuyasha glanced over his shoulder with a brow raised. “Really?”

“Of course,” she scoffed. “I don’t hate Kikyo or want bad things for her.”

“Keh, I know that.”

“I wish her all the happiness in the world,” Kagome continued getting onto her knees to wrap her arms around his shoulders. “Just not with my hanyou.” She placed a possessive kiss against his neck. 

Inuyasha chuckled and looked up at her over his shoulder covering her hand with one of his. “You have nothing to worry about; I wouldn’t be happy without you, ‘Gome.”

She hummed and leaned forward to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. Inuyasha cupped the back of her head, encouraging her to linger, but too soon, she was pulling away. 

Kagome rubbed her nose against his. “You want a bath?”

“Keh, you tryin’ to say I stink?” 

“No.” She laughed. “I thought it might help you relax.”

“Sure,” he said with a nod. “But only if you share it with me.”

“Okay, twist my arm,” she said with a mock sigh before winking at him. “I’ll get it started.”

She slipped off the bed, headed for the bathroom. When Inuyasha grabbed her hand, she turned back with a question in her eyes. 

“Kagome, you know how important you are to me, right?”

She offered him a tender smile, brushing the backs of her fingers over his cheek. “I do. Stop worrying, Inu. Everything’s okay.”

He nodded, eyes following her as she slipped through the doorway.  

Inuyasha had been turning a thought over in his head since he’d ran into Kikyo earlier in the day. She had asked if he and Kagome were planning on tying the knot anytime soon and he had waved the question away. He already knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her; all that extra ceremony was unnecessary in his opinion. Kikyo had frowned and reminded him that even if it didn’t mean something to him…it might to Kagome, sparking an internal debate that had raged all day. 

The idea of actually proposing to her scared the hell out of him, not because he was worried about her answer, but he was worried about getting it right. He wasn’t exactly knowledgeable about these sorts of things, but even he knew that the proposal was important. It was supposed to be heartfelt and meaningful, full of romantic declarations. All things that he had never been very good at but…it was time. He could struggle through a few moments of discomfort if it meant finally tying her life to his.

Not now, the last way he wanted to propose it was in reaction to an argument, but…soon. Inuyasha was going to make Kagome his in every way that mattered.

[makeste]

but I just feel too tired to be fighting

this is a follow-up post to what I said in my recap the other day about this arc being the Deku Angst arc, as opposed to the Villain Hunt arc or the Deku SIXQUIRKS Exhibition arc. I feel like the fandom discussion tends to focus on the flashier parts of the chapters -- the sexy villains and the new quirk reveals and the Shindous -- each week, and so the quieter emotional beats sometimes get overlooked, especially since the character arc here is playing out in little bits and pieces over time rather than all at once.

this has always been a very reactionary fandom, and there’s a tendency to judge the chapters week to week without ever going back to look at how they all fit into the big picture. so I figured I would try to attempt that, and basically go chapter by chapter here to look at what exactly Horikoshi is setting up and how it all fits together.

so let’s start with the end of chapter 306, which is when the arc officially kicks off. specifically with the very last page:

this is imo one of the best pages Horikoshi has ever drawn. I got the sense that this was a scene he’d had in his mind’s eye for quite a long time, and that he was excited to finally get to this part of the story. it’s extremely effective as both a chapter-ender, and an arc-opener. like, look at this:

it establishes the initial premise of the new arc -- the world is in chaos, and Deku is now seemingly on his own

it leaves the readers with a number of questions. why did Deku leave U.A.?? is he really on his own now?? why does he look so beat-up and exhausted?? what is he up to?? what is the world like now that all these villains have been unleashed and the heroes have been decimated?? and most importantly of all, what the fuck is going to happen next??

it pays homage to some of Horikoshi’s comic book influences -- Batman in particular

it dramatically hits us with that “THE FINAL ACT BEGINS” and lets us know that shit is getting real now

that’s some good shit. so much so that I think people tended to overlook the other notable thing about this page amidst all of the initial excitement and discussion and speculation about where the series was headed. and that is the fact that the final panel in this chapter is NOT the panel of Deku standing above the city. the very last panel, the one that this chapter actually ends on, is instead the close-up of Deku’s face. his face, which is covered in shadow; and his eyes, which have dark circles under them and are prominently missing the usual flecks of light that give him his signature “sunny optimistic shounen protagonist” look.

not to mention this last line here, which is a call back to the very first time we saw the 14-year-old Deku way back in chapter one.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Horikoshi chose to throw this reference in. nor is it a coincidence that THIS is the scene he actually chose to end the chapter on. what this does is show us the drastic shift in Deku’s emotional state of mind, and his attitude towards being a hero. he’s gone from being thrilled and excited to being jaded and exhausted. he’s matured, but at a great cost. it’s always been his dream to be a hero, but “be careful what you wish for” is a popular adage for a reason. and right now he looks the furthest thing from happy.

and this is the emotional beat that Horikoshi chooses to end the chapter on. this is the panel that closes out the War arc, and begins the final act. to me the message could not be clearer -- this arc will be about the exploration of Deku’s character, and his struggle as he tries to live up to the expectations that have been placed on him as the Last Holder of OFA and quite possibly the World’s Only Hope.

it’s a character arc that builds on a lot of the things we’ve already learned about Deku over the course of the series, such as the fact that he is reckless, and that he focuses on others often at the expense of himself. but more importantly, it’s an arc that finally expands on the dark side of what has up until now been a net positive for Deku -- the power of OFA. up until this point, despite its ups and downs, it’s been a boon for Deku overall and has allowed him to pursue his dream. but now we’re finally reaching the point where the monkey’s paw part of the OFA blessing/curse finally starts to come into play. OFA gives Deku more power than he could have ever dreamed of, but it also comes with a built-in destiny that he can’t opt out of whether he likes it or not. AFO is on the loose and out there trying to destroy the world. and now everyone has pinned their hopes on this sixteen-year-old kid, and the question of whether or not the sixteen-year-old kid is ready is apparently not one that anyone feels inclined to ask (possibly because they’re afraid that the answer might be “no”).

he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. he has to do it, because there’s no one else who can. that’s the kind of pressure that is on Deku now.

and on that note, we begin the Deku Angst arc.

chapter 307

this in hindsight was mostly just a set-up chapter to better establish the current state of the BnHA world at large (spoilers: it’s not good), while also providing an answer for one of the big initial questions of the arc -- namely, “what happened to all of those villains that AFO released from Tartarus?” these are important things to touch on, but the pacing could definitely have been better, and the bulk of the chapter was dedicated to providing fanservice to all of the Shindou fans who spammed the most recent popularity poll (which, whatever lol). anyway, so this was the sole chapter thus far with absolutely no Deku development. thankfully the arc picks up from there.

chapter 308

on to the next one! this was the one and only chapter thus far which I think actually qualifies as an “exhibition fight.” this was definitely all about showing off Deku’s current powerset, as well as introducing us to another of the SIXQUIRKS. however, there was Deku development here as well, most notably in this scene:

this is the scene that got a lot of people speculating that this arc was going to focus on Deku hunting down all of the old villains. but I think people got so caught up in that speculation that they overlooked what this scene tells us about Deku’s mindset. and yes, there is new information being revealed here, and it’s not just a rehash of the stuff we already knew. like yes, we know that Deku was shaken up by the recent encounters with Dabi and Tomura, and we know that made him start questioning why villains become villains in the first place, and all that good stuff, and that’s great. however, there are two additional important things that this scene helps establish for us.

the upcoming battle with TomurAFO is weighing heavily on Deku’s mind. this is something that will become a recurring theme in this arc. Deku is thinking about this constantly. the question of what to do when he finally encounters TomurAFO again is knocking incessantly at the back of his mind, and this won’t be the last time it comes up.

Deku is using these villain encounters as test runs. can Tomura be redeemed?? is he just being stupid and naïve?? or is this really something worth attempting?? the interesting thing about this is that Deku’s resolve to save people is usually so strong and unwavering that it’s more than enough to overcome any doubts that he might have. but this time it seems like the repeated objections posed by the Vestiges and Gran Torino have really gotten to him. it’s possible I’m just reading way too much into things, but to me it really feels like Deku’s recent attempts at Talk no Jutsu were meant to do more than just show his growing awareness that the line between heroes and villains is thinner than he once imagined. they’re also serving as trial runs for the real test, when it finally comes. if he can “save” even a villain like Muscular, there’s hope for him being able to save Tomura as well. and so that moment when Muscular rejects him out of hand is all the more disappointing to him, even if it wasn’t really unexpected. basically it wasn’t the answer that he had been hoping for.

aside from those little notes though, like I said, this was unquestionably an exhibition fight first and foremost. which is fine; we needed to establish where Deku is currently in terms of strength, and it was also just fun to see him kick some ass, ngl. in terms of story purpose this chapter was similar to 219, which showed us how Shouto and Katsuki had powered up after getting their provisional licenses. people who don’t care about those characters might argue that these fights weren’t necessary, but as someone who stans all three characters hard, I would disagree! but anyways, moving on.

chapter 309

in contrast to the previous chapter, this chapter focuses more on establishing Deku’s current mental state, as opposed to his physical state. and this is what we learn:

(1) Deku is ~technically~ being shadowed/accompanied by All Might and the Hawksquad (but in practice he’s avoiding them).

(2) it was Deku’s own decision to leave U.A., and he did it because he didn’t want anyone else getting hurt in order to protect him.

and finally, (3) Deku’s game plan is to stop Tomura and All for One before they reach full power.

this last part is very important, because it means there’s a countdown in effect. as far as Deku is concerned, there’s only a finite amount of time before TomurAFO becomes unstoppable. which means that he’s not only under “gotta get stronger” pressure, but time pressure as well. he doesn’t have the luxury of taking his time and training in safety. he’s being rushed now; this is do-or-die.

this chapter is also the first in this arc in which we get to see Deku’s expressions without the hood covering up his face, and what we see is very telling. as previously stated, the light is gone from Deku’s eyes. he keeps his expressions very neutral, and the only time we even see a hint of a smile is when he hugs his mom in the flashback, and it’s clear from the dialogue (“it’s okay, I’ll come home to you”) that he’s doing it for her sake in order to comfort her.

but aside from that, this is very much not the Deku we’ve grown accustomed to. this is the chapter that really establishes his current mental state imo. above all else, he’s afraid that more people will get hurt because of him, and so he’s distancing himself from everyone around him. and he’s also morbidly preoccupied with the inevitability of having to face TomurAFO again, and soon. the chapter ends on the flashback of Gran giving him his cape, and telling Deku that “killing can be another way to save someone.” there’s a lot on this kid’s mind, to say the least.

chapter 310

this chapter opens with a gang of civilians who are trying to open fire on a nice fox lady whose only crime was walking around in the rain at night. Deku intervenes to save her, and it’s the first time in this arc that we see anything close to the “old” Deku, who just wanted to save people with a smile.

but it’s bittersweet, because all the lady can talk about is how scared she was, and how horrible everything is right now. and so Deku, who feels responsible in a lot of ways for everything that’s happened, just feels that much more pressure to somehow make things right again.

there’s also this extra throwaway line which is especially heartbreaking:

“I can’t afford to be around anyone.” fucking ouch. just reinforcing once more how incredibly isolated Deku is right now -- not by choice, but because he feels like it’s not safe to let anyone else get close to him. and so he’s out here running around this dystopian cityscape in the middle of the night in the pouring rain all on his own, and neglecting himself to the point where All Might practically has to force a bento on him.

but does he complain? of course not. because his focus is never on himself. instead, when he settles down to eat, his thoughts immediately drift back to, guess who...

it’s that time pressure once again. “unless I draw out One for All’s full power, I can’t stop any of this.” it’s just nonstop, I have to get stronger, I’m running out of time, I have to do better, and constantly thinking about that inevitable confrontation.

Deku is a thinker, you guys. and when left to his own devices he will overthink, every time. his mind will run in endless loops while he mentally works his way through all of the possibilities. and that’s one of his greatest strengths, don’t get me wrong, but at a time like this it’s also one of his greatest weaknesses. it’s just so fucking easy for him to get stuck in his own head, in his endless rambling thoughts and analyses. and without anyone else there to help distract him, or help him focus, he’s become fixated on his mission, and it’s slowly consuming him.

this, incidentally, is also the chapter in which we finally see Two and Three’s faces, and learn why Two in particular is so reluctant to lend his power to Deku. he appears to be the lone holdout at this point, so stay tuned on that, because I don’t doubt this will wind up being crucial to Deku’s future development, however it winds up playing out.

chapter 311

this chapter flips back to the Hawksquad for the first half, so we get a brief respite from the ongoing Dekuangst. right before we switch back though, we do get confirmation of something we had pretty much already guessed:

like, that much was already apparent based on what we’d seen (the bags under his eyes; the fact that he refused to sit still in any one place for very long even at night), but it’s always nice to get the official confirmation so that people can’t dispute it lol. so yeah, Deku isn’t sleeping much. and not eating much either, if all he’s getting is the occasional bento from Dadmight. so basically not taking care of himself at all, huge shocker there. but this is something that’s important enough to the story that Horikoshi took the time to point it out in the dialogue, in addition to all of the visual clues we’d already gotten.

and just in case we needed to drive that point in any further, this chapter ends with the appearance of Lady Nagant! like yeah, no shit Deku isn’t getting much sleep, what with him having to fend off racist civilians and hired assassins every five fucking minutes. smdh. can he live??

chapter 312

so this is the chapter that properly introduces Lady Nagant, who maaaay or may not be one of the primary antagonists of this arc?? like, it’s really unclear right now tbh, but she gets hyped up by Hawks and AFO, and has a flashback and a mysterious past and a weird trump card (where did you go, Overhaul) and all that good shit, so yeah? one can hope at any rate.

but anyway. so to his credit, Deku’s first thought is to retreat, but he quickly abandons that plan once he figures out Nagant’s location. this is played off like a logical strategic decision at first, but the subsequent chapter quickly makes it clear that Deku’s decision to take the fight to Nagant is less rational than he might have you think.

chapter 313

so yeah. last but not least, the most recent chapter, in which Deku’s real reason for targeting Lady soon becomes apparent:

what’s more, it quickly becomes clear that he miscalculated and probably would have been better off following Hawks’s advice, seeing as he promptly gets himself shot, and subsequently realizes that AFO gave Nagant an extra quirk, something he hadn’t taken into account. but instead of cutting his losses and running at this point, he doubles down instead and not only breaks out Smokescreen, but also the Third’s quirk which he has never even used before.

it’s worth noting that both En and the Third start telling him to chill at this point, and warn him that what he’s attempting is too dangerous. but tbh if they were expecting him to listen, they haven’t been reading the same arc I’ve been reading. once again, Horikoshi makes it clear that Deku has one thing and one thing only on his mind right now.

of course. once again it all comes back to this. hunt down AFO. it doesn’t matter that he’s exhausted. it doesn’t matter that he’s just been shot twice. it doesn’t matter that Hawks, despite knowing what Deku was capable of with his OFA abilities, specifically warned him away from this one person only. it doesn’t matter that even the Vestiges are trying to tell him you’re going too fast and you’re trying to do too much and it’s too dangerous.

he just doesn’t care. long story short, the only thing that matters to Deku right now is tracking down and defeating TomurAFO. and as the person who knows him best once so aptly put it, “he doesn’t take himself into account.” and therein lies the major challenge of this arc.

and so this is where we’re currently at now. and this has been a very long post, but if nothing else, I hope I was able to get this one point across: there is absolutely no way that Deku will be able to defeat TomurAFO as he is now. not a chance in hell. somehow he’s managed the uncommon feat of waging a war of attrition against himself, which is really quite an accomplishment. he’s not taking care of himself, and he’s refusing to listen to sound advice from the people surrounding him, and is trying to skip ahead to the final boss battle before he’s ready, because the guilt and pressure from feeling responsible for the current situation are eating him up. the only way that the world can go back to normal is if he can defeat AFO; therefore he has to do it as soon as possible, because time is running out and everyone is counting on him. this is who Deku is. and this is what inevitably happens when his saving mentality is taken to extremes, and left unchecked.

anyway so to wrap up this post now, I do think this arc is a lot more cohesive than it’s gotten credit for thus far, and Deku is the glue holding it all together. I for one am loving the exploration of his character and all the subtle little angsty touches as we build up to the big moment, whenever it finally comes. just keep in mind though that if his decisions right now seem reckless and short-sighted, it’s because they’re supposed to seem that way, because Deku is not in a good mental state right now. the cracks are finally showing in our perfect protagonist, just like everyone has been wanting this whole time. he is just a kid. he is doing his best. he is trying far too hard to do his best, and it is hurting him so badly, but he doesn’t even realize. this arc is not an endorsement of the Angsty Nomad Hero lifestyle, lol. it’s the exact fucking opposite, and I think it’s being wildly misinterpreted with all of the emphasis on “oh look at that, he mastered another quirk with no effort”, as opposed to “oh look at that, he is shutting down emotionally and is a few more missed nights of sleep away from a complete and total breakdown.”

tl;dr the overarching storyline of this arc is all about Deku slowly falling apart due to his trauma from Jakku, and the subsequent pressure that was put on him by the Vestiges with their whole “GUESS WHAT, YOU’RE THE LAST USER OF OFA, THAT’S RIGHT, IT’S ALL ON YOU BUDDY” pep talk. and mark my words, things are not going to go according to plan. something is going to go terribly wrong here. whether it’s something happening to All Might, or AFO setting up a trap for him, either way Deku is being set up to fail in a major way. unless of course, someone (or a group of someones) manages to intervene first, and possibly stage an intervention or something. it’s what he needs right now, but idk if Horikoshi is going to make it that easy.

anyway, but in other words, the point of this arc is not to show how much stronger Deku has gotten and how he doesn’t even need his friends anymore. it’s the exact opposite -- the point of this arc is to show that Deku needs his friends now more than ever. that in spite of OFA and all of its mystical trappings and fancy SIXQUIRKS, Deku can’t do this alone. he needs his friends. that’s the core message. and right now, we are at the “I can get by on my own” part of the story. and the part we are all waiting for, but which is coming -- I guarantee it is coming, you guys -- is “the thing is, you don’t have to.”

and that shit is going to slap hard you guys. and I for one can’t wait. but until then, enjoy the angst.

[itsclydebitches]

You think a show with the subject of Unity WOULD’VE made James redeemable. This show used to do this, during the Fall in V3 is when we really saw how close everyone was. Heck, Qrow saving Ironwood and assuring him he knows he would never do this was the moment we learned that, for all their differences, they ARE friends who care about each other. What happened to this? What happened to the hope and unity in times of a darkness? V7-8 makes me feel so dirty with the lack of compassion.

I think what frustrates me about Ironwood isn’t that the story had an antagonist/villain go too far to be redeemed within the story itself. After all, a story with a cast this side doesn’t need (and, arguably, shouldn’t have) every single character become #good if you’re looking for some kind of “realism.” The execution of the arcs aside, having someone who is too scared to do the right thing (Raven), or dies as a result of their unwillingness to back down (Adam) isn’t bad writing and doesn’t automatically undermine the message of unity. After all, we see the characters attempting such unity, or at least peace through distance—Ruby asking Raven to come over to their side, Yang telling Adam to just leave them alone—and those offers were rejected. At that point, there’s only so much the heroes can do. The ball is now in the antagonist's court.

So putting aside how badly Ironwood’s fall was written overall (which, obviously, contributes to the frustration) I think RWBY’s mistake stems largely from the heroes not making those offers, nor putting in the expected effort for an ally (in RWBYJNOR's case) and a friend (in Qrow and Winter's). I’ve seen a resurgence in the fandom of a “The heroes aren’t responsible for Ironwood” take and yeah, sure, technically speaking no one is responsible for anyone else, especially not when it’s a bunch of teenagers in regards to the world leader. However, if we’re thinking about this in terms of what the heroes preach and what messages the story wants to convey, then it is a problem that none of them work to unify with Ironwood. Many fans will claim they did do that work, but as discussed elsewhere, everything came with the “Do as we say” caveat. Ruby was only willing to unify provided they do things her way, which is no more unity than Ironwood demanding that she “unify” by doing exactly what he wants. It’s just obedience in either direction, but the difference is that Ironwood spent all of Volume 7 working towards actual unity in the form of offering information, support, and compromise whereas the group maintained their lie, demanded perfection without offering solutions, and went on to betray him. Then we hit Volume 8 where that mistake occurs: characters either ignore, or attack Ironwood/what he represents without trying to strive for that unity prior to giving up on him. Off the top of my head:

Qrow randomly drops his initial desire to talk to Ironwood to instead attack Clover with Tyrian, then plans a revenge killing on Ironwood.

Team RWBY chooses to fight the Ace Ops despite being given the call to approach this problem in a more peaceful way, even if it’s not ideal.

Penny is torn about this division between Ruby’s group and Ironwood's, but instead of allowing her to work through that—which could potentially lead to reunification—Ruby makes it clear that there are sides and Penny needs to stay on the correct one. (Seen mostly notably in Ruby taking Penny’s call and giving a very biased speech before entering Atlas HQ).

Winter and the Ace Ops both see Ironwood shoot a man… but no one cares? No one is going to try and talk to him about that? Make sure it doesn’t happen again? Even just leave if he’s officially gone off the deep end? By having them all stay by his side but without commenting on the murder (even in a “Holy shit is he gonna kill us? I’m too scared to try and escape” way), we’re left with the implication that they’re just… fine with that. No need to try and steer off the road Ironwood is heading down. This is whatever. We’ve got five otherwise active characters passively allowing this to happen because the story didn’t want Ironwood to change, but it also wasn’t capable of writing that fall persuasively.

Going off of that, many others have pointed to Winter’s brief talk with Ironwood before JNOR+E arrive to take him out. She explicitly says that she doesn’t think she can talk him out of this, despite the fact that no one has tried.

Ruby announces to the entire world that Ironwood is no longer trustworthy. This happens early in the Volume, before the bomb threat, when Ruby doesn’t know about the councilman, or Ironwood shooting Oscar, or anything else he's done while separated from her. All she knows is that he wanted to evacuate who he could and that, to Ruby’s mind, is worthy of world-wide condemnation. Regardless of whether we think Remnant would trust the word of an unknown, too young huntress, the fact remains that Ruby expects them to trust her. She expects them to believe her and act accordingly: all of Remnant should refrain from trusting Ironwood. Not only is this a strong indication that the writing never even considered giving Ironwood a redemption, but in-world our main characters—the one who is preaching unity—has rejected it completely despite having incredibly little reason to. At this point in time, from Ruby’s perspective, the worst thing Ironwood has done is try to save half his Kingdom rather than letting it all be destroyed, yet according to her, this is unforgivable.

When Yang has a long talk with Raven and makes no headway in changing her mind, I buy that there’s nothing left for Yang to do except walk away. When Adam has stalked Blake for weeks, attacked her twice, dismembered Yang, was given numerous chances to back down, and was still going in for the kill, I buy that there’s nothing left for them to do except act in self-defense, resulting in his death. In contrast, I personally don’t buy Oscar putting that amount of trust in Hazel with no indication that this would amount to anything except a major loss for the good side, but the story insists that this was the right thing to do. It’s worth reaching out to people, even if they’re one of Salem’s lackeys and are currently torturing you! Similarly, I don’t buy the heroes accepting Emerald with the speed they did, but again, the story insists that this was the right thing to do. It’s worth reaching out to people, even if they’re one of Salem’s/Cinder’s lackeys, destroyed your school, helped murder your friend, and tried to kill that friend again just an hour ago! The message is that the chance of success doesn't matter, it's always correct to try and get people to do the right thing. The execution of all this is incredibly messy, but usually RWBY gives us something in regard to why redemption hasn’t happened despite those offers. Either it does happen (logic be damned) thereby justifying the effort in the first place, or the antagonist refused to take it, letting the hero off the hook. They tried and that's all we can ask of them.

The exceptions to this are Ozpin and Ironwood. Ozpin was granted forgiveness, but it was never offered. He had to come begging for it after circumstances ensured he couldn’t keep his distance anymore. However, Ironwood is (apparently) operating under a semblance that ensures he focuses 100% on whatever task he has set, presumably making it impossible (or at least very, very hard) to snap out of that and go asking for his own redemption. Iffy canon aside, there are a dozen more reasons why it’s unreasonable to expect Ironwood to orchestrate a moment like Ozpin’s—from him actually believing he’s right to just not being forced to interact with the group—which means that redemption could only come if someone offered it. After Oscar's attempt that, in retrospect, was pretty lackluster and maintained those caveats, one did. No one was inclined to help, or push back, or work to save a man they supposedly cared about. It would indeed take work! It would not be easy, nor without risk, but isn’t that supposed to be the message of RWBY? Trust love and fight for unity? The characters are, apparently, willing to put in that effort and accept that risk for the likes of Hazel and Emerald… just not Ironwood. Ironwood is the outlier who, despite being surrounded by people of varying relationships—from subordinates to friends—and despite these people having varying responses to his actions—from horror to full support—none of them, when it was clear he needed help, was inclined to offer that. And sure, that’s a story. There’s nothing wrong with that story, but it’s certainly not the kind of story RWBY claims to want to tell.

[bokunosimpfiction]

Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.

A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.

Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!

             It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.

             “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.

             “I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.

             You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.

             “You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”

             You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.

             It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”

             “Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”

             He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.

             “Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”

             Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”

             “No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”

             “Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”

             “So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”

             “I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.

             “Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.

             When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.

             You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.

             Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.

             “Quit ignoring me girlie.”

             You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.

             “Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”

             “I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.

             You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”

             “Touché.” You hear back.

             “Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”

             “Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.

             “Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”

             “Apologize and I’ll consider it.”

             You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”

             The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.

             You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.

               “Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”

             “You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.

             “Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”

             You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”

             “You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”

             “I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.

             “And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”

             “I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.

             “I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”

             “Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”

             “Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”

             You just nod your head.

             “Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”

             You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.

             “Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”

             When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”

             “Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”

             You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.

             He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”

             Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”

             “So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“

             “I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.

             “I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”

             “Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”

             “That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.

             “Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”

             “I’m sorry they what?”

             He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”

             “Known for?”

             “Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”

             “I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”

             You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.

             “That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.

             “You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.

             “Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”

             “Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”

             He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”

[antiloreolympus]

10 Anti LO Asks

1. Maybe i'm just old but I remember a big part of fandom used to be lovingly shitting on whatever we liked, because yeah we could enjoy it but also call out what was bad about it like rational human beings. The fact LO stans refuse to even flirt with the idea of any sort of non-praise only discussion is just like??? Is this a cult??? Over a stupid webtoon?? Even the most obsessive PJO fans aren't this argo about it. It's really off putting.

2. ya know I get LO is rachel trying to ~push back~ against centuries of christianity warping how we see the greek gods but I didn't think that would mean her being against the christian teachings that slavery is born of sin and rich people are literally evil who will never get to heaven, like?? ma'am???

3. Even though I’m not reading LO anymore, I got to say I liked RS’s old artstyle. It was unique and easy on the eyes.

4. Homer calls Eris a daughter of Zeus and Hera over the usual Nyx and/or Erebus, so RS isn't technically wrong in this case (and tbh it could be an interesting comment on how marriage between them is full of discord) but I think the bigger issue with this in LO is she is only there to demonize Hera and Zeus' marriage and to be a scapegoat to Persephone's bad actions, even though everyone was fully fine to accept she could be multifaceted. Eris is just an excuse to pin blame on over anything else.

5. why did persephone pick then of all times to attack apollo 😭 i woulda stepped back n let him either get hurt by eris or let eris die… like i get pers hates him and he’s dangerous but so is eris ? home girl gave u WRATH 

6. I see some defend LO's dragged pacing as "when you binge it all at once it makes sense!" which like 1) it doesn't? a lot is still just bad writing but 2) a large issue of it too is that so much of it is just dragging out episodes that could have been done in half the time and/or could be cut entirely, which IMHO is bigger issue. There's so many elements in it (Eros and Psyche, Hera, Leto, Kronos, etc) that just add nothing, which makes it even more dragged out when it takes up most of the time.

7. It's honestly kind of telling the "anti" community is the only place to have nuanced talks about LO, make AUs, different opinions, and make fan content that isn't 100% to the comic while the "pro" fans police all thought and even run out people who dare have a different opinion and wanting to make content that isn't solely praising HxP and kissing Rachel's feet. Very strange indeed.

8. Funny how Rachel "super researched" Smythe doesn't seem to know only a handful of gods had their powerss stripped from them to learn a lessen, one of which was Apollo, which made him mature as a deity and have a better appreciation for mortals. Something tells me she won't let Persephone go through such a change or reflection, she'll only be trying to get back to Hades at all costs and that's about it, with her having learned nothing. I'd love to be proven wrong though.

9. Lo hades gives massive “I voted for Obama, how could I be racist?” Energy. The man is textbook definition of a centrist at best neoliberal and no that’s not a compliment. he looks right out of “Get Out”.

10. the fact the only real basis for HxP's "romance" in this comic is Hades being slightly better than her literal r4pist (with weird parallels to each other?? rachel you want them as different as possible??), physical lust, and trauma bonding is so bad lmao, especially when we're four years into this. Like how is the main point of the story still this underdeveloped at this point? And she's just going to drag it out again with this separation.

[thefanficmonster]

corpse x reader headcanons where reader is a companion android that his sister bought for him? (android as in like in detroit become human)

Ooooh omg I love that idea so much! Here are some headcanons 🤗

~ Enjoy 💕

Companionship

Pairing: Corpse Husband x Android!Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Mistrust, Angst 

Genre: Angst to Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

- "Why can't you at least try to tolerate me? Won't that be easier than avoiding me when I'm in the same damn apartment with you? And this apartment isn't particularly large, mind you."

- "If the apartment isn't big enough for the both of us I'm not the one that should leave, you machine."

- Trying is your strong suit, not his apparently

- Not that it leads you to much

- It always brings you to this almost scripted exchange with Corpse

- Your tries are worth little when he is not willing to try too

- And by 'try' I'm talking about him actually giving you a chance instead of assuming you're evil and harboring a hidden agenda of killing him

- The thought is so fucking ridiculous to you but you can't really blame him for what's going through his head considering it's been implemented there by the news he hears and reads

- Sometimes you can't help but scoff at that: you're the android yet he's programmed by others more than you

- The media has brainwashed him into the side that fears your kind

- And what humans fear they aim to destroy

- And those not brave enough to destroy the potential threat settle for despising it with all their might

- Yeah, Corpse is one of them

- He spends the majority of the time in his recording room, pretending you're not there

- Thankfully, he at least understands his sister had only well-meaning intentions when she got you for him as a gift since she was moving to New York for college and didn't want him to feel so lonely

- There's the thing though, one thing you noticed despite his barriers and walls surrounding him: he's constantly lonely

- And, worryingly enough, he doesn't mind it whatsoever and doesn't try to do anything to change it

- You're an Android but you still understand the need a human has for a companion in their life

- But it all changed one night

- You saw him in a different light 

- When you heard him cry at some ungodly hour of the night

- That’s one human trait you think you’ve had since day one, before you even had any human interaction: compassion

- No matter how often or how hard he pushed you away, you still wanted to be there for him, still wanted to be the companion you were meant to be

- Because you too were lonely, but admitting that would lead nowhere considering no one would believe an Android can feel such an emotion

- So, with no hesitation, you immediately went to his aid, though your movements were cautious, unsure of how to handle the situation

- “Hey...what’s wrong, Corpse?” it was obvious he wasn’t ok so what was the point in asking him how he was doing, you just dug right into the issue

- “So much. So fucking much.”

- He proceeded to tell you all that’d been on his mind as of recent

- All that bothered him

- All that he hated about his life and himself

- And you just listened, each word of his hitting you in the device that served the purpose of a heart in your system

- You may not feel pain like humans do, but there’s a whole chunk of you that’s more human than most people and it was more than enough to feel for him and feel the need to comfort him

- Luckily, he let you

- And even more luckily: it worked

- That’s what changed everything between you

- That night’s events turned your companionship into something more alike a friendship and not the previous status of roommates who ignore each other

- One question he couldn’t resist though

- “How do you know what loneliness feels like? Did they program it into you when they made you?” Corpse asked after a long moment of silence following the drying of his tears

- You couldn’t help but laugh: “No silly, no ‘soft’ emotions were implemented in me when I was made. However, you yourself implemented that loneliness with your behavior. Imagine not being able to do the only thing you’re meant to do: be there for someone is that thing for me. And you refused to allow me to fulfill my duty. It made me feel useless and like a lost cause, you know.”

- Another long moment of silence followed meant for Corpse to process all you just told him. Such dark things with such a lighthearted tone

- “I’m so sorry” he said eventually, unable to look at you, “But...if we’re gonna be friends I don’t want you seeing it as a duty you must fulfill, Y/N.”

- “Deal!“ You surprised him with your enthusiasm, “But you gotta promise not to push me away cause it fucking sucks. I won’t kill you, my kind won’t take over the world, I’m not evil and I know how to work the washing machine, unlike you - I see no reason for us to not be friends.“

- This managed to get a laugh out of him, a genuine laugh that brought a smile to your face

- “Alright, alright, deal.”

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[ac3id]

Plaything | 18+ | part i

plaything 1/ ?? | part 0

pairings: yandere! bully bakugou katsuki x fem! reader

warnings: [series] blackmail, bullying, dubcon/ noncon, filming w/o consent, yandere themes, no quirks au. ALL CHARACTERS ARE ABOVE 18 YEARS OF AGE.

↪ for chapter 1: dubcon, blackmail, humiliation, masturbation, filming w/o consent, boot grinding, a little bit of bakusquad + reader....this is filthy :D 

summary: by luck you get enrolled into u.a high the best school in your town. the only catch is that the school is filled with rich, spoilt and powerful brats who just seem to hate you and among them, a certain red eyed blonde dreads you the most

↪ for chapter 1: you bump into bakugou by accident, dropping your vanilla ice cream all over him, you try to apologize and run away but wants more...oh wait why are his friends standing there recording everything too? 

wordcount. 4k+

a/n: sooooo, it’s finally out! huge thanks to @sawamooora for proof reading this! helped me out a lot <3 sorry for making u sit through that mess x[

 this scene was inspired by that one episode of boys over flowers where the mc’s best friend drops ice cream on the main guy’s shoe and he asks the mc to lick it off...obviously that didn’t happen in the show but it really got me thinking...... 

alsO the netflix show elite,,, i just saw it and knew,,,,

taglist: @mocha-focha​, @erenyeagersbasement​ , @haribo-pop, @sunshine-fangs​, @kuremis​, @amazing-fandoms​,

dm/ inbox/ comment to be added/ removed. 

—navigation

It was a great opportunity. Never in your life would you have thought you’d manage to land a scholarship at the prestigious U.A Private Academy. 

The school was a dream, the best in your city, and only affordable for the rich. Graduating from such a school could have helped you with life in so many different ways. Not only would it open doors you could never touch before, but it would help you to form connections which would make your life undoubtedly easier.

Graduating from U.A. was a blessing, but obviously, it did not come easy. It was rather unfortunate. After your previous school building had collapsed, due to some accident, the board announced its year-long closure.

At the time, you were beyond lost and understandably frustrated - it was your last year before college and you simply couldn't risk waiting the year out. The whole situation was nerve-wracking, looking for decent schools which would allow you in. 

Honestly, you had no idea what you would’ve done if U.A. hadn’t called you that night. 

It was the last day of the summer holidays, a week after your school building had collapsed. Luckily, no one was hurt - but the damage on the campus was severe. 

You had been talking to your friends when your mother rushed into your room with exciting news. Apparently, the chairman of U.A was feeling generous. He had decided to offer four excellent students from your school a scholarship to U.A. 

You were overjoyed being one of the students along with your two other friends; Shinso Hitoshi and Izuku Midoriya. 

At first, the thought was a little scary - going into a completely different world than you were accustomed to. The kids there would be much different than you, you didn't want to be the   laughing stock, you didn’t want to be their silly little entertainment... The thought made you nervous, but when your best friend, Izuku, called you the next night explaining how he also won the scholarship; followed by Shinso, you were relieved. 

Yes, you were stepping into a whole different world but you at least had your two friends with you. 

And that brought you to the first day of school. 

You stood outside the huge gates of the even enormous academy all alone shaking in your little, expensive skirt they forced you to wear as the uniform waiting for your friends. You promised the two boys you’d wait for them, and besides, you weren’t planning on entering the building all alone. 

Your friends, Shinso and Midoriya, lived close to each other. They were supposed to meet you at the gates of the school that morning, but they were running late. Your anxiety grew the longer you stayed there, with students filling the place- arriving in their fancy cars with their expensive bags and accessories. It easily made you feel out of place.

“Hey,” you heard someone before someone tapped on your shoulder. You quickly turned around to greet the voice. Staring back at you was Uraraka Ochaco.

You remembered she was in your school too, Midoriya has a huge crush on her. 

“Yes, Uraraka? Right?” You weren’t close to her, nothing but mere acquaintances. But seeing her face - right here, right now - it made your day. 

Uraraka was dressed in the same uniform as you, there was no doubt that she was one of the four kids who won the scholarship. Both of you talked while you implored her to wait for Midoriya and Shinso. You didn’t fail to notice the way her cheeks turned pink when you mentioned Midoriya. The two of them were so obvious. 

Your friends arrived, they were late, but they came. 

Apparently, there was an accident that forced them to stay back a little longer, but they managed to make it before the first bell. 

“I actually have an old friend who goes there now,” Midoriya confesses out of the blue as the four of you enter the gates. You look at him in awe. 

During the three years in high school that both of you had spent together, he had never mentioned any friend of his going to the U.A. academy ever. 

“Why did you never tell us?” Uraraka asks. 

“well, we’re not on good terms. He used to live in the same neighborhood before his parent’s business took off. He left after middle school.” Midoriya says, a slight frown forming on his face.

“Who is he?” Shinso asks. 

Midoriya pauses briefly before explaining his entire history with a temperamental and rude blonde. Bakugou Katsuki, he calls him. His childhood friend. But from what you managed to gather, Bakugou was anything but a friend to Midoriya. 

Bakugo was once just a simple boy, living a simple life, destined to do great things - but once his parent’s clothing line ‘Dynamite’ blew up and became mainstream, he started drowning in wealth. Bakugo moved out of his old neighborhood at the starting of high school before enrolling in U.A., just like all his rich friends.

“Maybe you should say hi,” Uraraka suggests. Midoriya’s expressions turned sheepish.

“About that…” he started. “I called him yesterday, got his number from mom, and-” he stopped. 

“What did he say?” Shinso asked.

“He told me to get lost and die,” Midoriya said with a slight frown on his face, looking down. 

That was your first impression of Katsuki Bakugou. For a man you had not even met, you sure loathed him. 

School went smoothly for a week, everything was going great. The four of you kept your profile low, didn’t talk until spoken to, kept your distance, and everything was okay. 

People often starred and whispered amongst each other when they saw you in the hallways, but that was about it. Everyone seemed to be decent but… there’s always a but. 

Everything took a turn for the worse when you managed to piss off the wrong person, Bakugo Katsuki himself. 

It was an honest mistake, not even that big of a deal - especially for his standards Yet, for some reason, Bakugo wanted to get under your skin. 

It happened after your lunch break, you were on your way back to your classroom with an ice-cream cone fasted tightly in your hands. You mindlessly dashed through the hallways, trying your best to get back to class as fast as possible - you don’t want to be late. It’d earn you a bad reputation. You don’t need that- you don't want anything which could jeopardize your scholarship. 

You walked straight and took a turn. Just by fate, you bumped into a stiff, hard chest making you wobble on your feet and sending your ice cream from your hand flying straight to the ground.

“Shit,” you cursed, looking down seeing what you had to work with. 

The ice-cream cone splattered on the floor, the white creamy liquid flushed all over the floor along with staining an expensive-looking, black leather boot. A snarl comes from above you along with a group of chuckles. More expensive shoes come into your line of view as you realize you’re not alone. 

You slowly bring your gaze up, ogling at who you just pissed off. 

Staring back at you is a furious blonde, glaring at you with such intensity that it makes your stomach drop. It’s the infamous Bakugou Katsuki, you don’t want to deal with him. 

-

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you don’t give him a chance to complain as you take your flight. Quickly, you try running away but a large hand grabs your forearm, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

You look to the side, deep red eyes stare right back at you. 

“Where are you running off to? Don’t you think you owe my friend here a proper apology?” Kirishima says, his grip on your arm growing tighter. He towers over you, his huge body trapping you with intimidation.

Going to U.A for over a week there’s a thing or two that you’ve learned about the rich, snobby brats who own the school. Not everyone is bad, a few of them are actually but the rest are just bad. 

Bakugou was the worst. From how Midoriya described him, you knew for a fact he’d be a horrible person. But hell, he managed to prove himself even worse. 

He was crude, mean, downright arrogant, and ignorant. Always screaming unasked opinions on top of his lungs, and gets mad whenever someone disagrees. He acts like the world revolves around him.

 Bakugo had a bunch of friends who he called his “followers” and they weren’t any better.

They just watched while Bakugou ruined everything, they were there to support him. 

Kirishima Eijirou the redhead, he was captain of the football team. He was a jock, brawns over brains kind of person. Girls cooed over him and his overly attractive, hot body. It looked as if he was sculpted by God himself. 

Next was Kaminari Denki. He was in the school band, dating the lead singer. And yet, he managed to find time to flirt with other girls. He was the goofball of the group, dumb and stupid But he always knew what he was doing. Even though it was barely noticeable, you could always see a devious glint in those amber eyes of his. 

Sero Hanta was famous for a lot of reasons. Most notably for having brought illegal drugs on the campus and skipping classes to go down to his junkie hangout spot to smoke weed. The man had no shame. Sometimes, he’d walk into the classrooms high as fuck. The teachers couldn’t do anything even if they tried, his parents practically owned the school; he owned the school. There was no going against the tall, lanky man who looked like he couldn’t even smash a bug. He held the most power and his friends sure knew how to abuse it. 

Last but not least was Mina Ashido. The one and only girl member of the self-proclaimed ‘bakusquad’. Sometimes, Jirou Kyouka, the lead singer of the school, would hang out with the boys and her boyfriend, but she wasn’t a permanent member. Mina was. 

In your opinion, Mina was a nightmare dressed like a daydream. With her short, pink hair and bright smile, she seemed like an angel. But she was the devil. Worse than even Bakugou, perhaps. 

She knew everything about everyone, she had leverage galore: screenshots ready to leak, videos ready to ruin lives. She had them all, and frankly- she scared you the most. 

Kirishima pushed you back, and Bakugo caught you by your shoulders. 

“That was fucking rude,” he growled, biting his fingers into your shoulder blades tight and hard making you squeal. “Are you fucking blind or something? Fucking extra.” 

“I said I’m sorry, let me go will you?” Even in such a terrifying situation, you try to remain calm.

“What do you think, Sero?” Kaminari began. Your heart sank, including Sero into anything was never a good sign. 

“She ruined Bakugou’s new shoes,” he continued. Bakugou’s hold on you tightened and you winced, turning back to him and returning his glare. 

“Okay, what do you want?” you give in, finally. A mischievous spark lights up in his crimson eyes as flashes a cocky smirk to his friends before turning back to you with a frown. He pushes you towards Mina and she catches you with an arm around your shoulder. 

“Those were expensive, right?” she looks at you and then back at Bakugou. He grunts, nodding. 

“Fuck yes, I’m pissed as hell. Some fucking extra managed to ruin it.” 

You look back down to steal a glance at his heavy, leather boot. The small, white stain melted away. 

“What will you do to make up for it?” Mina whispers your name and you cringe. They were teasing you. For their fun, they were making fun of you. 

“What can I do?” you say, sarcastically. Prying yourself away from her hold. The crowd goes dead silent before speaking. Sero is the first one to talk. 

“Lick it off.”

There’s a pause, no one speaks. Your stomach drops and your face pales at the look the five of them are giving you- it’s serious. Dead serious. 

Kaminari bursts out laughing followed by Sero and the others. The four of them get a great laugh but Bakugou stares at you head-on with his grave expressions burning through your soul. 

“Whatcha looking at? Do it,” he commands. 

The laughing dies down and Kaminari speaks, “are you serious? You want her to lick your shoe,” he can’t control his laughter, a chuckle breaks with every word. 

“Yes, I’m fucking serious. Besides, Sero recommended it,” he smirks. “Do you really want to say no to him? I don’t know so much about this but-“ he leans down close to your face, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, “it might complicate your scholarship.” 

There’s a twisted rhythm in his voice. He’s enjoying tormenting you. You still want to believe that they’re just messing around. That they’ll have their laughs and let you go, but the way Sero stares at you says otherwise. 

“You don’t wanna do it?” Bakugou asks. 

“Of course she doesn’t! That’s gross, oh my god.” Mina exclaims, earning a chuckle from the rest of the boys. 

“Hey, let’s hear it from Sero himself.” Kirishima pats Sero’s back, pushing him forward. The five of them have circled around you, coiling you inside their venomous nest with you in the center. You turn to Sero with pleading eyes, looking up at his huge form, begging. 

He smirks looking down at you, you look so tiny beneath bim. He wants to mess with you, even more, you look like a nice toy to him. He wants to play with it until he can’t. 

“I guess, I did say that-” your blood runs cold, heartbeat picking up in nervousness. “-but you don’t need to do it.” He finishes. Your face lights up while the others groan in disappointment. Bakugou looks livid. 

“Just know that, you’re the one who dropped the ice cream on Bakugou’s shoe and now you’re not even helping him out. That’s not very noble, is it? I don’t know if I even by mistake slipped that info back home- my parents might reconsider whether you truly deserve to be here or not. They don’t really like disrespectful kids who comprise the school’s name.” 

Sero ends his speech with a wide, ear-to-ear grin, followed by a pat to your head. 

“The choice is yours.”  

You pause for a moment and think. Where they were really going to make you do it, where they were really going to humiliate you like this. They were. But were you willing to do it? 

From Sero’s threat, you could tell he was serious, this was legit. 

It wouldn’t have been the first time the school expelled someone who had beef with Sero, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. They don’t care about anyone but their loving son. They wouldn’t even think once before expelling you.

“What’s your answer, princess?” Kirishima teases.

 Mina and Kaminari once again break into fits of laughter.

“What do you mean? She doesn’t have a choice here, kneel you extra.” Your heart hammers in your chest as Bakugou gestures you to kneel. You stop for a second, breathing unevenly- thinking. After a long, thoughtful sigh, you answer. 

“No, I am not going to do it.” Your voice is meek yet clear. Even though you’re trembling under the heavy gazes of five snakes, you choose to stand your ground. 

Bakugou glaring at you while the others boo. 

“Aw, c’mon you don’t mean that.” 

“Don’t be a little brat.” 

Bakugou stays silent while the others continue to throw insults at you -  calling you names and trying to make you regret your decision. You look straight forward into Bakugou’s cold, red eyes, searching for his next move. Your heart beats even harder in your chest with increased anxiety. After watching your torment for more than a few minutes, Bakugo decides he’s had enough of this game.

“Hey, shitty hair,” Bakugo starts. “Punch me.” 

“What?” Kirishima asks, vividly shaken. “Why do you want me to hit you, Bakubro?” 

“Punch me real hard, give me a black eye.” The confusion grows greater on everyone’s faces. You stare at him in awe, wondering what angle was trying to play. 

Kirishima raises his hands in defense. “Woah, dude slow down there. I’m not just going to punch you.” 

Bakugou clicks the roof of his tongue, letting out a sound of irritation. “You all are just dumb,” he starts.

“Imagine if this punny, little,” he leans down closer to you till his lips touch your ears and whispers your name with a crude chuckle. “Were to drop all her food over me, not apologize, punch and me then run away, that’d bring her into a whole world of trouble. Wouldn’t it?” 

Bakugo’s words are calculated and sly, he knows exactly what he’s getting at when he starts. His voice fills you up with dread as he makes his accusations public.

“She would be expelled on spot and Kacchan could also raise charges,” Kaminari adds. 

Your eyes widen in fear. 

“Yeah, I’ll fucking do that.” Mina giggles. “That would succck,” she cheers. Your lower lip quivers as you stare at them in disbelief, your eyes open wide only to be covered with fear. 

“Hey, c’mon, why are you doing this to me?” You feel them inch closer to you, their warmth leeching onto you the longer you stay surrounded by them. 

“Because you have no fucking manners.” Bakugou snarls. 

“Kiri, punch him. What are you waiting for? If you don’t wanna do it I will!” Kaminari cries, growing impatient. 

Kirishima laughs before he charges Bakugou. Your heart hammers in your chest. 

You think about your family, your future, and how disappointed everyone would be with you. Your dreams and aspirations, all were rooted in this school. 

It was honestly sad, pathetic even. Your entire future was just a joke to these spoiled kids. These kids who could control you, and everyone else,  with just a flick of their fingers. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the price to pay for a piece of the beautiful cake known as U.A... You resign yourself to your fate.

A piece of your mind. 

“N-no, don’t do that. I-I’ll do it,” you murmured, your voice timid and weak. The five paused looking at each other with an ominous glint in their eyes. Bakugou was the first to speak. 

“Well, then fucking get on with it. On your knees.” Obediently like a trained puppy, you got down onto your knees, not letting your eyes fall from Bakugou’s face. His red, fierce eyes barked at you with an unknown look, keeping you lost. 

“Holy shit, she’s actually doing this,” Mina squealed watching you lean forward, bringing your face next to Bakugou’s expensive boots.

“Kaminari, record this.” Sero taps at the energetic blonde, forcing him to take his phone out and hit ‘record’. As you lean further to the ground, your short skirt rides up behind you, giving the audience a clear view of your round ass and pastel panties. The sight brings a smile to Bakugou’s face as he scoffs. 

“Cute panties,” he remarks. 

You jerk, trying desperately to sit back, but Bakugo stops you. Smashing his other foot on top of your shoulder, he holds you there facing the ground.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” he growls.

You squirm, almost falling under his weight and as much you hate to admit it, a tingle of excitement runs down your spine. This was turning you on.

 A row of whistles flood in, the boys start teasing you and praising Bakugou. 

“Lick it off,”  he commands. 

You look down at his leather boot, the ice cream almost melted. There’s still a bright white spot of the sweet now liquid splayed out. Even though it’s not a lot, it still makes you cringe. You peek your shy, little tongue out timidly, forcing yourself to do the heinous deed. 

Bakugou watches you hesitate and pushes on your shoulder harder making you reach towards him. 

You give in after a final attempt, diving into his wishes. Your wet tongue touches the rough, cold leather. You cringe after a single touch, closing your eyes and scrunching your nose at the salty taste. “Clean it all off,” he commands.

You dive back in, this time letting your tongue glide across a larger portion. The humiliation burns through your body. It makes you uncomfortably hot, mostly from anger and but a little bit of arousal.

“Nice ass.” 

There it is. The excitement comes back the moment they start making suggestive comments, the attention riles you up and it’s horrible. 

“Kaminari are you even supposed to be here? Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Mina asks at the blonde pervert who was currently zooming on your ass. 

“Oh? We’re cool as long as I don’t stick my dick her,” he points to you. “That’s hella fucking tempting but I’m in love, dude.” He chuckles to himself, thinking about his girlfriend. 

They treat you like an object, talking about you like you were some sort of a toy. 

“Bet her pussy is tight,” Sero says. 

Kirishima turns to Bakugou, looking at him with pleading eyes. “Yo, Bakubro, can we touch her?” 

Bakugou looks on from watching you lick his boot and turns to Kirishima. A dark, unsettling gaze falls across his eyes as he speaks, “No. This one is mine.” he stares down at you. 

You stop lapping on his shoe and stand back on your knees, buckling your knees you try to get up but Bakugou harshly kicks your shoulder, throwing you back and making you cry. 

“Why did you do that?” you squeal, holding onto your bruised shoulder, glaring at him intently. 

The rest of the group goes quiet at the display of Bakugou’s sudden violence. 

He stands between your thighs, lazily resting his foot atop of your soft thighs. 

“You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” the angle you were spread out in had your skirt flipped over hips, displaying your pretty, pastel panties to everyone in the room. 

Even though it’s subtle, masked by everyone’s fear of what Bakugou was planning, you still feel everyone’s gaze focused right on you and more specifically at your clothed cunt. Bakugou presses hard on your thigh making you cry. 

“Useless Deku’s friends are just like him. The fucking second you walked in here, I knew you were just another useless insect for me to stomp on.” He pauses, smirking, pressing his foot onto you even harder, twisting his ankle to increase the burning sting surging across your right thigh. “And I’m doing just that.” 

He steps off you for a moment, letting you catch your breath and recover from the burn. His eyesight travels lower down to your panties. He admires the cute pair you had on. Normally when he’d see girls naked, they’d dress themselves up the most luxurious to match his standards. But that’s not you, that could never be you. 

He rejoices at the thought of seeing your flushed, tear-stained face breaking down under him. You’ll never be like those girls, always a step behind. He can build you up and break you however he likes, you’d have no say in it. 

The power trip drives him crazy. 

He presses the tip of his boot over your clothed clothed cunt, pushing the hard material right over your sensitive clit. 

You gasp at the feeling, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He smirks down at you, moving his foot in a steady rhythm, rubbing the fabric of your cotton panties against your little pearl. 

“This turning you on? What a freak.” The rest of his group basks in shock. They watch intently as the scene spiraled out for them, too captivated to make any comments. They just keep quiet and stare. 

The way you squirm under Bakugou as he plays with your cute clit so unforgivingly makes them hot with excitement. Kaminari feels a little guilty but he blames it on his nature as a man.

Sero feels a little bad for you, they all do. But then again they wouldn’t waste the opportunity to be in Bakugou’s footsteps- literally. 

“You’re a little slut, you know that?” Bakugou sneers. 

Your gasps turn into whimpers as his simulation becomes harder. You clench your fists, desperately wishing it to be over. Tears brim in your eyes at the sheer humiliation of your corrupted form. This was just too much, too much for you to handle. 

“Please, stop,” you beg, knowing he wouldn't listen. “I’ll report you,” you cry.  A roar of laughter starts, shutting you up. 

“Go for it, you do that.” Mina comments. Kaminari walks closer to you, bringing the camera down to your face recording your horrified expressions. 

“We’ll just go ahead and post this online.” he threatens. 

A drop of tear falls down your waterline following a waterfall. You cry, leave all of your dignity behind and cry. You beg them to stop but as your pleas mix with your moans, it’s hard for anyone to understand what you’re saying. It’s not like they don’t know what you’re asking them for, they just turn deaf, simply because they can. 

Bakugou stops, he takes a step back, leaving you alone. You let out the tiniest cry when he leaves, ditching you just when you need his touch the most. 

“Feels like I’m doing too much of the work, if you want it so bad, do this yourself.” He says. Your body still burns with desire, your clit still hard and cunt salivating, you are nowhere close to being done... 

It’s as if something takes over and you are possessed by the dire need to cum, you do exactly as he says. 

You snake your fingers down your panties, deliberately rubbing on your swollen little clit before pushing your finger into your drenched cunt. You cry out as you clench around your finger, the pleasure becoming unbearable. Your legs shake and you close your eyes shut. 

You stay there on the floor, fingering yourself in the corridor, without any shame, while Kaminari records all of it. 

“She’s gonna give me a hard-on,” Kirishima says and you moan.

“She really is a slut, huh?” Sero comments. 

“She’s cute,” Mina adds with a smile. 

Bakugou scoffs, “does Deku know how much of a whore you are?” He asks. 

You don’t pay any attention to what he says, too busy bringing yourself to your climax.

“You’re getting all this right?” Mina looks over Kaminari’s shoulder and onto the phone screen which captures you beautifully losing yourself for everyone to see. 

“You close?” Bakugou asks as you feel yourself clench around fingers tightly, he bends down on his and pulls your panties down your hips, admiring your precious cunt. 

“Cute pussy,” he remarks before flicking your sensitive, hardened clit.

A rush of pleasure washes down your body as you cry while cumming. Bakugou pushes you right over the edge, a nasty grin screaming atop his face as he watches you. You curse at yourself for letting him see you like this, but there’s not much you can do but cry while you feel your juices gush around you before sliding down your thighs and onto the dirty floor. 

It takes a second for you to calm down and when you do come to your senses, dread fills you up. Tears shamelessly fall down your face as you realize what you just did. The others laugh at you, without feeling any remorse. 

Bakugou continues to stare at you with an unsettling look, while the others discuss the heinous crime you’ve just committed. 

Sero looks down at you and you catch his dark eyes staring at you. A toothy grin scavenges his face as he speaks. 

“Awesome,” he says as if he just finished some mediocre movie. 

Finally, you find the courage to get up and run. 

This was totally not awesome. 

[baseballbitch116]

Dixons Next Door - Chapter 4

Introduction: Anna was a small town girl from Atlanta when she became the guardian of her two younger siblings. She was determined to keep them from the same abuse that she endured from her family, so she moved into a small beaten up house just outside the city in 2009. The new neighbors  next door - the Dixon brothers - were definitely trouble. She wanted to escape her past, not repeat her parents history with these redneck brothers. Matters only escalate when the news is talking about the possibility of some virus getting out and infecting people… Are Merle and Daryl just as bad as her past? How is she going to keep her brother and sister safe from this virus getting out? What did Anna get herself into?

Setting: Pre-apocalypse

Word Count: 6896

Series Warnings: Offensive language, mentions/suggestion of physical abuse, alcohol abuse, drug abuse, sexual themes, violence & death

Chapter Warnings: Alcohol consumption, drug use, offensive language, assault, violence, sensitive themes - potential trigger warning

A/N: I got a little carried away and made this an extra long chapter, but it’s a good one! There are some sensitive topics in it so this is a trigger warning - it’s nothing too bad but some people may not want to read it. 18+ You’ve been warned.

Previous Chapter

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I had been cleaning out the pool for the kids while they ate lunch the next time that I was interrupted by Merle. He came over with a beer and hand and stood nearby me, watching silently. I gave him a look but he made no comment, he just sipped on his beer. I sighed and continued skimming the bugs and leaves out of the pool. “Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?” I ask without looking back at him. He chuckles.

“Why ya cleanin it? Just gonna get dirty again?” He asks, ignoring your question. You roll your eyes and smack the skimmer on the ground to get the debris off of it.

“Why shower - just gonna get dirty again.” I remark sarcastically.

“Exactly.” Merle agrees, and I look up in momentary shock before catching the sarcastic smirk on his face. “Ew,” I mutter, tossing the skimmer to the side and throwing the chlorine in the pool.

“So what bar ya work at?” He asks, glancing into the pool for a moment before looking back at you. You want to lie, but there’s literally only two bars in this small town, so it’s not like it matters much.

“Happy Hour Tavern.” I respond, wiping my hands off on my shorts and crossing my arms. “Surprised I haven’t seen ya there yet.” Referring to the beer in his hand at two in the afternoon.

He smirks. “Ya wanna see me there?” He suggests, and I roll my eyes.

“Didn’t say that.”

“Don’t ya worry, sugar. I’ll stop by.” He assures me, and I know he probably will.

“Great,” I mutter, and he chuckles.

“Where ya kids at?” He asks.

“Inside eating.”

“Wanna make me somethin to eat, sugarlips?” He asks flirtatiously. I roll my eyes again and huff.

“My name is Anna, and no, I don’t really have the money to be feeding the neighborhood.” I respond.

“Ain’t the neighborhood, doll. Just a friend.” He winks.

“Oh, so we’re friends?” I ask, shifting my weight.

“Yeah sure. Ya seem to be cozying up to my brother and all, ‘course we’re friends.” He responds sarcastically. The grin is gone from his face and he seems more serious now.

“What?” I ask, baffled by what he means by ‘cozying up to his brother.’

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. I saw ya the other day. Got him doing shit for ya, too. Impressive.” He rolls his eyes and takes a large gulp of his beer. Suddenly, the mood shifts, and I feel uncomfortable. Is he angry at me for asking Daryl for help? He is so hard to read, everything was just fine - what happened?

“I needed help lifting a heavy ass box. He was there. Doesn’t mean I’m ‘cozying up to anyone.’” I respond sternly. I don’t like being accused of using people. Merle chuckles.

“Relax, darlin, I ain’t jealous.” He taunts, lifting a hand to shield his eyes and looking up at the sky. “Issa good huntin day, bet he’s goin out there soon. I’ll see ya around, sugarlips.” Merle says as he begins walking away from me, leaving me confused and startled. What the hell just happened?

I began getting texts from my father that same day. I wasn’t entirely surprised, but I knew he wouldn’t go to the cops.

1:04 - Bring back my fuckin kids

1:15 - U ungrateful bitch after all i done 4 u

2:06 - Ima have every1 lookin 4 u

2:10 - U best not let me find u

3:34 - Ima tell the pigs u kidnapped em

4:08 - Just wait til i find u

My brother even texted me a few times, too.

12:30 - Pa’s lookin 4 u. He’s mad

1:10 - U took them? Ur not they momma, u kidnapped em

2:30 - U best bring em back or u’ll regret it Anna

The texts continued on and off throughout the day but I ignored them. My prejudice, abusive family would not get the best of me. He was probably drunk and went to find us to pick a fight and finally noticed we were gone. I couldn’t help but worry about if he ever did manage to find us. We were only a half hour away, it wouldn’t be too hard. It was only a matter of how much he was determined to do so. He’s not a smart man, I doubt he could track us down very easily. Plus, everyone who knew him, hated him. No one who knew us would help him - they would know the kids were safer with me. I’d rather be poor than abused.

Eventually I left my phone on silent and tried to keep my thoughts occupied. I didn’t tell the kids, of course. The kids had been playing in their room for most of the day, having fun with the large box that my bed frame had come in, using it as some sort of rocket or something. So I let them be inside and sat on the front steps to think in peace. I looked up at the sky and willed myself not to cry. They did not deserve my tears. They didn’t even deserve a moment’s thought. I forced myself not to think about all that they had put me through in my childhood. The nights I spent crying myself to sleep on my mattress on the floor. The bruises and scars I hid at school. The lies I told to keep myself from being taken away - only so I could protect my siblings.

My eyes burned as I fought back the tears and I hid my face in my hands on my lap.

“C’mon, Anna. It’s over now.” I mutter to myself, trying to believe my own words. Anger boiled over inside of me at the thought of what my father might do if he found us and took the kids back. I would not let him. Even if it killed me - he would not ruin their lives like he did mine.

A crash of thunder made me jump, bringing me back to the present. I looked up just in time to see Merle approaching from the woods, resheathing a knife on his hip. I figured he was hunting, and that gave me an idea.

“Hey, Merle!” I call out, quickly wiping my face and jumping up to head over to him. He looks pleasantly surprised and stopped in his tracks, smirking as I approached him. “I have a question.”

“Whatcha want, sugar?” He drawls, wiping his hand on a rag from his pocket. I notice a bit of blood and then the bag over his shoulder, making me wince. I didn’t wanna know.

“I wanna get a gun. But I don’t know the first thing about them, and I kinda hoped you did?” I inform him, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t come out. He chuckles quietly and looks me up and down.

“Whatcha want with a gun?” He asks. I resist getting defensive, sure that he thinks a woman can’t handle one.

“To protect myself. Family problems, let’s leave it at that.” I inform him with a look. “Do you think you could help me?” I plead. I didn’t wanna go into town and get scammed into buying a crappy, overpriced gun. Merle looks at me for a long moment, looking up at the darkening sky before shrugging.

“Come with me.” He responds, nodding toward his house. I look at it then back to him, giving him a sharp look. “I’m serious, ya want me help or not?” He demands. I look back toward my house for a moment before sighing.

“I can’t be long.” I tell him, and he smirks, heading toward his porch. I hesitantly follow behind him, dreading entering his place. Considering the trash and overgrown grass outside, I had a feeling the inside was much worse. I stepped inside the house cautiously, keeping my eye on Merle as I did so. He seemed to be the only one here, which relieved me. If any of those men from the other night were, I would have left. Merle tosses the bag from his shoulder onto an old wooden table and heads down the hall toward a bedroom, leaving me alone. The floor is dirty, there’s an old, stained armed chair in front of a box TV, and there’s stuff scattered everywhere. The place smells a little weird too, but I resist complaining. Merle returns a moment later with a case in hand. “Here,” Merle opens the case and reveals a gun, holding it out to me. It’s a handgun, I know that much. I look up at him and he gives me an impatient look, so I hesitantly grab the gun. It’s heavier than it looks, and I make sure to keep my finger off the trigger. “Ya ever shot one?” He asks, smirking at me.

“Once or twice.” I mumble, having flashbacks to the one time my father tried teaching me how to shoot bottles in the backyard. It wasn’t a fond memory at all…

“Ya can have it, but it’ll cost ya.” He winks.

“How much?” I ask, and he chuckles.

“Ion want ya money,” He drawls, and I immediately frown, thinking I know what he is implying.

“I’m not doing that either,” I scowl, going to hand the gun back to him. He doesn’t take it, chuckling some more.

“Whatcha want a gun for anyway?” He asks. I didn’t want to get into it, but maybe this would be a way around having to do something for him for it. I let out a sigh and looked at the weapon in my hand for a long moment.

“My father,” I start, not meeting his eye. “He’s uh, well he’s a piece of shit basically. I took the kids from him in the middle of the night and got this place, never told anyone where we were going. If he comes around… Well, I’m gonna need this.” I finally look up and meet his eye, exhaling deeply. He looks at me for a long moment, his face expressionless. It’s quiet and I am surprised he doesn’t make any rude or sarcastic comments. He shrugs, placing the case down on the old table.

“Keep it.” He tells me, and I raise my brows at him.

“Really?” I clarify, confused why he changed his mind.

“Ya need it more than I do. Got plenty round here.” He mutters, waving his arm up in no general direction. “I know all about piece of shit fathers.” He continues, giving me a solemn look. “My pops was. You was right, yer gonna need that. So take it, before I change my mind.” He drawls, heading over to their fridge and grabbing a bottle of beer, kicking it shut behind him. I don’t argue, despite being shocked and confused.

“Thank you, Merle.” I give him a sincere smile for the first time, and turn the gun over in my hands to ensure the safety is on.

“Takes 9MM. It’s loaded.” He informs me, plopping into the beaten up chair by the TV and opening his beer, taking a large gulp. I nod slowly and shift my weight, feeling awkward holding the gun but trying not to let him know.

“Okay,” I respond, turning to head out the door as he turns the TV on. “Thanks again.” I holler before I head out the door into the humid air. The sky has gotten very dark with storm clouds and the wind picked up, so I jog across the lawn back to my house and tuck the gun into the back of my shorts, hiding it under my shirt before I walk inside. I don’t need the kids seeing this.

“Anna! Look what we did!” Colton calls out from the hallway with a big grin on his face. I smile back at him and walk down the hall to their room, letting out a dramatic gasp when I see the box colored on with a bunch of random colors. “It’s our rocket!” He exclaims excitedly, rejoining his sister inside the big box.

“Wow! It looks so good guys!” I exclaim, grinning as they go back to their playing. I watch them for a moment before remembering the gun and walking into my own room, placing the gun on the top shelf in the closet. This will have to do until I have more furniture and somewhere safe to keep it.

The texts kept coming throughout the rest of the night.

6:05 - ware tf r my kids

6:43 - dont make me hunt u down girl

7:16 - uv always been a cunt this is just like u

8:11 - wat r u gonna do when u get nocked up by some prick u dont have money 4 all dem kids

The string of insults and threats lasted most of the night, the only reason I kept looking at them was to make sure that they hadn’t found us somehow, or had any ideas. I would need a head start if they did. I’m not sure if I would be able to shoot my brother, but I know I could shoot my dad. He deserved it. After all he did to me, all he put us through. Even my dead beat mother didn’t deserve him. He was half the reason she’s as bad as she is. Apparently, my mother hadn’t started using drugs until after I was born. My father had escalated when he had his first daughter, and his true colors began to shine through. My mom used in order to live with herself, the guilt, his abuse. She even made sure to get clean each time she learned she was pregnant, but she always relapsed. She was a strong woman - I had to give her that. If nothing else, she was strong. But still a horrible mother. She should have taken us with her when she left.

But now it was my responsibility. I had to do what she couldn’t. I couldn’t help but think about my parents, my horrible family - as I stood in the doorway, watching them sleep. I may not be able to change what happened to me, but I would do anything it took to prevent it from happening to Bailey and Colton. If it comes down to it, I will kill my own father to ensure he never lays another hand on them.

Watching them sleep peacefully, side by side in their own brand new bed with clean sheets and a safe roof over their head - that made it all worth it.

Jessie and Beau came over at nine with beers and I set up a fire in the front yard. I had found this old firepit someone was throwing away on the side of the road the other night and I took it of course. I was excited for some relaxing adult time before my shift tonight. I hated my job, but I made good money there so far.

“What time you work tonight?” Jessie asks as she pops open a bottle of beer and hands it to me with a grin on her face.

“Eleven to three. At least it’ll go by fast.” I respond, taking a gulp. The alcohol burns as it goes down my throat and I let out a sigh, leaning back into the stairs. I hadn’t gotten around to getting chairs for the yard yet - an unnecessary expense I couldn’t afford just yet. Jessie sat beside me, a lemonade in hand instead of beer, given that she was pregnant, and Beau sat on the hood of his truck, rolling a joint. I always enjoyed nights like this - quiet, relaxing, worry free. Jessie had been the best friend I’d ever had, I’m glad we’re still so close.

“That man ever come back?” She asks, referring to a customer from a few nights ago. He had gotten too drunk and handsy, trying to get me to give him my number. He even waited until the bar closed for me and the manager had to call the cops to get him to leave so I could go home. That was the latest reason I hated my job that I’d only had for a few weeks.

“No. Hopefully he never comes back, I don’t wanna have to use what Merle gave me earlier on him.” I mutter, glancing behind me to make sure the kids hadn’t woken up.

“The neighbor?” Beau asks. I nod.

“What did he give you? Are yous like, talking now?” Jessie asks, leaning on her knees and giving me a worried look.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I wanted to look into getting… a gun, for protection. From Dad.” I explain in a quieter tone. “I figured someone like him would know a place, and he actually ended up giving me a handgun.” I continue, watching Jessie’s disapproving look and wide eyes. “I’ll be safe. I really need it. If Dad finds out where we are…” I trail off, taking a large sip of my beer and letting a huff out.

“Why’d he just give you a gun for free?” Beau asks, looking up from where he was rolling the joint on the hood.

“I dunno. At first he said it was gonna cost me, but then when I mentioned it was because of Dad, he let me just have it. Said he knew all about asshole fathers.” I shrugged. “Either way, works for me.”

“Just don’t let him use that against you. Who knows what he might try to pull, he reminds me of Mack.” Jessie rolls her eyes when she mentions my older brother, grimacing. She hates me as much as I do. He had tried to get with her a million times and it made him resentful, yelling and cursing at her. Which then resulted in Beau beating the shit out of him - which was a sight for sore eyes.

“Yeah, he’s a bit better than him though. From what I’ve seen, at least.” I shrug, taking another swig of my beer. “Dad’s been texting me most of the day, he texted me earlier too. The bullshit you’d expect - pretending to care I took the kids, threatening me.” I explain, handing my phone to Jessie to see the string of unanswered texts.

“I hate them,” She grumbles as she scrolls through the texts. “They won’t find you, don’t worry. They’re too stupid to figure it out.” I chuckle at her comment.

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” I giggle. Beau stands up and offers me the blunt, which I accept and take a long hit from. As I am doing so, I hear a man start laughing and sure enough, Merle and Daryl are standing at the bottom of their porch. I exhale the large puff of smoke and hand the blunt back to Beau, leaning on my knees and resisting the urge to cough.

“Damn girl, who knew ya could have a little fun!” Merle exclaims, walking across the lawn toward us. Daryl and I make eye contact for a short moment before he rolls his eyes and leans against the beat up railing, placing his crossbow on the porch stairs, seemingly waiting for his brother. I roll my eyes with a smirk at Merle’s comment. Ever since earlier, I’ve decided to cut him a little slack. If I was interpreting right, we had more in common than I thought - at least, regarding families.

“Yeah, sometimes.” I respond, offering my beer bottle to him, earning a surprised look from Jessie. I was trying to be nice to Merle to repay him for the gun, so he wouldn’t come collecting in another way. It was the least I could do for a free handgun and clip. Merle looks shocked for a short moment but smirks and takes the bottle from my hand, taking a large swig.

“Yous her family?” Merle asks, looking at Jessie. She hesitates for a moment before shaking her head.

“Friends.” She responds, readjusting her feet uncomfortably. I stand up and suddenly I’m aware of just how close Merle was to me. I am almost touching him as he leans against my railing, my bottle in his large hands, a smirk plastered across his face. He looks fairly attractive in the fire light and his seemingly clean-ish clothes. He’s wearing black cargo pants and a white T-shirt under a jacket, and I take notice of the knife holstered on his hip. “Going hunting?” I ask, taking a step away from him toward the fire and tossing another log in.

“Mhm,” He responds, taking another sip of my beer. “Wanna come with, sweetheart? Can show ya the ways.” He suggests flirtatiously.

“I actually know how to,” I smirk, stepping closer to him and grabbing the beer from his hand, taking a large sip while looking into his eyes. The alcohol and hit were starting to get to me - I was a bit of a lightweight nowadays, since I’ve lost weight and had less time to do this kind of stuff. Merle bites his bottom lip and holds the intense eye contact with me, taking the beer back when I hand it to him and I can feel his eyes on me as I retake my seat beside Jessie.

“Yer loss.” He shrugs, pretending to be indifferent.

“C’mon man!” Daryl shouts from their side of the lawn impatiently. I wish that he would come join us too - I wanna get to know him better.

“Ugh I’m comin! Get yer panties outta a bunch!” He shouts over his shoulder. Merle hands the beer back to me after one last gulp and heads off to rejoin Daryl, walking away into the dark woods.

“What was that all about?” Jessie demands when they are out of earsight. I shrug and set the beer down, not wanting to get anymore intoxicated, given that I still have work later.

“I dunno, gotta be nice. I kinda owe him.” I mumble, kicking at dirt. Truth be told, I found those brothers interesting. Mysterious and dangerous, but alluring. Yes, they were trouble, but I always ended up attracting trouble anyway.

“You better be careful.” Jessie warns me, and I nod.

The night went on peacefully and we all enjoyed talking over the fire and relaxing with the kids asleep. I left for work and Jessie stayed at my place while Beau went out with his friends after dropping me off. He was gonna pick me up after work too, since he was gonna be in the same general area.

My shift was going fine until about one, when I recognized a familiar face and my whole night went sour. The creepy man from the other night was back, and he had his eyes on me. He was with another man at a table instead of the bar, but he was very obviously watching me. I informed the manager on duty but it wasn’t the same man from the other night, so he didn’t know the extent of how creepy the man was. He only came up to the bar once, having his buddy order drinks while he watched me. I remained calm and didn’t even glance at him, handing the drinks to his friend and accepting the two dollar tip without a word.

It took about a half an hour to finish cleaning up after everyone was out of the bar and I was dreading heading outside. I had a feeling that the man would be waiting for me again, but the manager didn’t want me wasting hours and had to stay behind to finish up, so I had to go out alone. I hung up my apron at the door and sighed as I locked up behind myself, leaving the manager alone in the building to finish recounting the drawers. I had already stuffed my tip money into my purse and had my keys tucked between my fingers as I looked around cautiously for a sign of anyone. There were still people out, despite being a bit past three in the morning. Beau hadn’t answered my texts in the last half hour and Jessie was asleep, so I had to wait. Great. Across the street, I spotted a nice looking motorcycle across the street, but that was the only vehicle besides far down the road.

I started walking toward the street light by the corner to wait for Beau when I heard a male voice call out. “Hey! Bitch!” I grasped my keys tighter in my hand and turned my head, spotting the man and his buddy down the alleyway. They stood up from leaning on the wall and started heading my way, so I started walking faster, but then they started running.

“Help!” I hollered and started running across the street. The adrenaline kicked in in my body as fear took over and I ran as fast as I could down the opposite side of the street. They were close behind me and I tried to hop over a fence, but they caught up and threw me onto the ground before I could get all the way over. “Help! Please!” I screamed as loud as I could, trying to kick the men away from me. The main guy sat on top of my hip and shoved a hand over my mouth, smirking evilly down at me as his buddy started trying to lift me. I kicked and flailed as hard as I could but I couldn’t get away as they drug me across the ground into a back alley.

“Hey!” I heard a different male voice holler and then there was the sound of glass breaking. The main man let go of his hand over my mouth to look behind him and I took that opportunity to scream as loud as my lungs would let me, before the second guy punched me in the face. I swore I saw stars as my face throbbed, the two still pinning me, my head propped against the second guy’s chest where he held a knife to my throat.

“Get off her. Now.” A deep male voice demands. I can’t see with the main guy on top of me but I am grateful for whoever it is coming to my rescue. The men only chuckle evilly but then something happens and the second guy jumps away from me quickly, making me slam my head down on the concrete. I groan and my vision goes blurry with tears as the stinging in my head intensifies. “Help…” I mutter as I fight to stay conscious, my head throbbing. The cold, rocky concrete is painful against my cheek, but not as bad as the weight of the man or the stinging in my head.

I can finally see around the main guy and spot a man a few yards away, aiming something in our direction. It’s hard to see with my blurred vision and the darkness, but it looks like a weird sideways weapon. “Ay, man. Chill out. We was just having some fun, that’s all.” The second guy insists, holding his hands up a little. I try to wiggle away but the man on top of me grabs onto my throat and holds a knife toward me.

“Think I won’t? Get the hell outta here or I’ll kill her right here, right now.” The man growls. I stare at the sharp tip of the knife in my face, fearing this is where my life will end. What will happen to Bailey and Colton without me?

The next moment is a huge blur. One second, there is a knife in my face, and the next, the man falls off of me, screaming in pain on the ground beside me. I jump up off the ground as fast as I can and stumble away from them, running blindly in the direction of where I had seen the shadowy figure of the other man. I stumble and trip in the combination of darkness and the pain throughout my body, reaching out to the brick wall to catch myself from falling but someone else catches me and I start flailing and trying to get away, until I look up.

It’s Merle. He hoists me up from where I was half fallen on the ground onto my feet and puts a hand around my waist to keep me up against him. His face is serious and it’s the first time he hasn’t cracked any jokes to me. I’ve never been more relieved to see someone in my life. I reach up and hold onto his neck, trying to keep my balance. The man continues screaming and cursing and I look back, spotting Daryl holding up a crossbow. “Oh shit! Fuck!” The second man screams, running away and leaving his friend behind with an arrow in his ass. Daryl walks over to him and takes his knife, pressing a foot on the man’s back and yanking the arrow out from his asscheek. I turn and hide my face in Merle’s shirt, disgusted and terrified. The screaming continues and then I hear a second scream and a trash can get knocked over. When I look back again, the other man is laying on the ground toward the back of the alley, an arrow in his leg.

Daryl stalks over to him and rips the arrow from his leg as well, kicking the man in the face before heading back toward the first man. “Ya ever, ever - come back here again… I’ll kill ya.” Daryl growls at the main guy who had been stalking me. Daryl rejoins us and puts a hand on my back hesitantly, looking down at me. I’d never been this close to either of the brothers and yet, somehow, I felt safer now.

“T-thank you.” I mumble into Merle’s chest, holding onto him tight, too afraid to let go. Tears stained into his shirt but I couldn’t bring myself to care - I was shaking and biting back crying.

“C’mon,” Merle mumbles, grasping onto my tight and trying to turn me around. I held onto him tight and let them lead me away, not paying attention. I saw Daryl grab my purse and keys in the corner of my eye and noticed Merle was leading me to a motorcycle. “You take her back, little brother. I’ll meet ya there after I finish up here.” Merle lets go of me and I feel like I’m going to fall over from the pounding in my head, but Daryl grabs onto me before I can fall completely over.

“Damn,” Daryl mutters, grabbing me tight and I notice that we are face to face. He’s got me by my waist and my hands grasp onto his shirt collar. “Sorry…” I mumble, blinking away fresh tears. He doesn’t respond but he helps me onto the back of the motorcycle. “Hold onto this.” He takes my hand and places it on these handlebar things, and I do. I do my best to stay up straight while he attaches my purse and his crossbow onto the back of the motorcycle and then sits in front of me. I whip my head toward the alley when I hear more screaming, but Daryl starts the engine and revs the bike. “Hold onto me. Tight.” Daryl hollers over his shoulder, and I do so without hesitation. I wrap my arms tightly around his waist and lean my head against his shoulder, terrified to fall off. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before - if I had been in a normal state of mind, I would have objected. But at this point, I wanted to get home as fast as possible.

The motorcycle is fast and the wind blows past us. I keep my eyes closed and focus on holding onto Daryl, feeling lightheaded and scared of falling off. It’s a short ride and he has to help me off of the bike. Holding onto his rough hand made me feel anxious and insecure but I had to in order to keep upright. He led me inside his house, and I did not object, as I did not want the kids to see me or for me to wake them up. He leads me over to a beaten up couch and I hesitantly sit down, looking around cautiously. I didn’t know if anyone else was here, but it seemed we were alone. I held onto my own arms tightly and tried to focus on my breathing. “I should uh, check ya out.” Daryl mumbles, crouching down in front of me. He waits for me to respond in some way, so I nod and uncross my arms. He runs a hand up my bare leg and I force myself not to flinch. I’m not afraid of Daryl, but tonight’s events have me shaken up. “Stand up,” He says, offering me his hand to help me get up. He lifts up my shirt a little and I flinch when he touches my back. “Yer pretty scratched up.” He comments, removing his hand from my back. “Should put somethin on that, so it don’t get infected.” He stands up when I sit back down and walks away, presumably to grab something. I hold onto my head and wince in pain where there is a large bump already forming.

Daryl returns with a few items in hand. He gives me a package of peas and shrugs, not meeting my eye. “Don’t have ice packs.” He mumbles, kneeling in front of me. “Turn around.” He tells me, and I move so that he can get to my back, placing the ice on my head. He starts applying something cold to my back and I sit as still as I can, wincing at the pain from where I was drug across the concrete. “Yer shirt’s all torn.” He notes when he pulls it back down. “Lemme see yer head.” I remove the ice and he gently runs his fingers through my hair, eventually finding the lump and I jump in pain, tearing up. “Sorry,” He mutters. “How do you feel? Ya might have a concussion.” He says, and I groan.

“I can’t afford to have a concussion.” I mumble and lean back into the sofa, holding the ice against my head once more. Daryl places a gentle hand on my cheek, below my eye, where I was punched. I look into his eyes as he gently rubs his rough thumb over what is surely a black eye. “M’sorry this happened to ya.” He mutters, looking away.

“Thank you for saving me.” I respond quietly.

“Wish I’d been there sooner.” He grumbles, standing up and removing his vest, tossing it onto the seat. He is wearing a black button down shirt and black jeans, his hair is matted against his forehead - but he looks very attractive. I look down at my bare knees that are now scratched up and feel my eyes burning again.

“What were you doing there, anyway?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Merle wanted a drink. Said ya worked there, wanted to bother ya I’m sure.” I let out a small chuckle and he continues. “We were leavin to head back, but we heard ya yellin.” I nod and look down again, trying not to think about it. I should be used to this sort of thing by now, given what I went through as a child.

Before either of us can say anything more, the door opens and Merle steps in, wiping his hands off on a rag. I notice the faint red marks on his knuckles and wonder what he had been doing, but try not to think of that either. Whatever he did, I didn’t care. Those men deserved it.

“She good?” Merle asks his brother, looking over at me huddled on their sofa. Daryl nods and explains my injuries briefly to Merle, who huffs. “Lucky we were there, sugar.” He comments. I don’t respond, hugging myself and shivering a little. Daryl notices but Merle heads to the bathroom, probably to clean up. Daryl walks away but returns shortly with a shirt and sweatpants. “Here. Ya can change in my room.” He mutters, handing the clothes to me. I am shocked but I accept and stand up slowly, following him back to his room. He shuts the door behind himself and I stand there for a moment, surprised to be in his room. He’s a lot sweeter than he likes to come off, it seems. It’s a very standard room. Pretty messy, no decorations, basic sheets on the bed, old paint. He clearly doesn’t care much for the room, it seems like he probably only uses it to sleep. It’s not “homey.” I remove my now ruined shirt and skirt and throw the large T-shirt on and tie the sweatpants on tight so they will fit me. The shirt is baggy and I notice it smells like Daryl. I hadn’t known what he smelled like before today but now I recognize it. It kinda smells like the outdoors, like firewood or something. It’s a nice scent, though, and I find it comforting.

I open the door with my old clothes in hand and spot Daryl waiting down the hall, leant up against the wall. Merle comes out of the bathroom at the same time and we make awkward eye contact. “Look like a Darylina.” He comments with a chuckle, walking past me toward the kitchen. Daryl looks at me for a long moment, until I meet his eye, and then he drops his gaze to the floor. I slowly approach him and give him a forced, appreciative smile. “Thank you.” I tell him gratefully. He has been so kind to me tonight. Before today, I hadn’t barely spoken to him before and he was always standoffish and seemed to avoid talking to me. It was a weird change, but welcomed. If only the circumstances it occurred under were different…

“Want me to throw em away?” He asks, referring to my clothes in hand. I shrug and hand them to him. He tosses them into a trash can and Merle walks over to the chair by the TV, popping open and beer and kicking his feet up. He seemed so nonchalant about the whole situation, it was weird. “Oh shit,” I mutter, realizing Beau is probably worried, waiting for me. “Do you have my phone?” I ask Daryl.

“That’s what yer worried bout?” Merle speaks up.

“No, I had been waiting for my ride. He’s probably worried.” I explain, looking to Daryl, hoping he had grabbed it. Silently, he pulls my phone from his pocket and hands it to me. “Thank you.” I unlock it and find a million missed calls from both Beau and Jessie. He must have woken her up when I never showed up. “Shit.” I grumble. I hated worrying them, after all they do for me.

“Yer boyfriend?” Merle asks, gulping down some of his beer.

“No, my friend’s boyfriend.” I respond as I text both of them in a group message that I was okay and that I would explain.

“Why would yer friend’s man be pickin ya up at three in the mornin?” Merle asks with a wink.

“Ew, no. I’m not like that. He’s a good friend, she’s watching the kids for me at my house right now. I gotta go let them know I’m okay…” I trail off, then remember I’m in Daryl’s clothes. “Uh, I can go change and bring these back-” I start, but he shakes his head.

“Keep em.” He insists, and I feel bad, but don’t fight back. “Ya might have a concussion, so ya should have someone check up on ya when ya sleep tonight, and get it checked.” He explains.

“Doctor Daryl.” Merle jokes sarcastically, and his brother shoots him an evil eye.

“Thank you guys for helping me. I don’t know how I can repay you…” I trail off, refusing to think about the course of the night again.

“Don’t worry bout it, darlin.” Merle smirks.

“Couldn’t just leave ya there.” Daryl mutters awkwardly, shuffling his feet.

“Well, still. Thank you.” I repeat before heading toward the door. Daryl follows behind me, handing me my purse and keys, and I wave before walking out and heading back to my house slowly, careful not to trip. I look back and notice he is watching me and I feel my cheeks heat up, fumbling to get my key out and open my door. I notice Beau’s truck is here and when I open the door, the two of them are sitting on the sofa, waiting for me.

Jessie and Beau were furious when I told them what happened and I ended up crying on her shoulder, letting the emotions from the night settle in. Beau threatened to go back out looking for them but I told him what I suspected Merle did and he didn’t. Jessie helped me get cleaned up and settled into bed. She slept next to me in my bed that night and woke me up every two hours, in case I had a concussion. Beau slept on the couch and I had never felt more appreciative for anyone more than I did for them and Daryl in that very moment...

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[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute

Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.

Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.

Words: 5,155

a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.

Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.

You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.

You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.

“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”

You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.

This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.

Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.

Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.

You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.

“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.

“No worries, how can I help?”

“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.

“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”

You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.

There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.

“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”

“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.

“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”

“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.

“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”

“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”

The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.

Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…

All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.

Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?

The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.

God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.

📚📚📚

The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.

“Hi!”

You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.

“Oh, hi.”

“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.

“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”

“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”

“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”

Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.

“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”

Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?

“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”

“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.

“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”

“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.

“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”

Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.

“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.

“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”

Ah, the unpredictability of children.

“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.

“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”

“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”

Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.

Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.

“If you’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.

“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.

“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.

“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.

“She seems sweet.”

“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”

“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.

“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”

It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.

“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”

As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?

He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.

“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.

“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”

You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.

“I’ll see you in there?”

“I’m not a the desk today.”

“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”

“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”

“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.

“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.

“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”

Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.

📚📚📚

The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.

One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.

“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”

“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.

“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”

“Then best not.”

You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.

“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”

Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.

“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?

“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”

That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.

“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.

“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...

“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!

“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”

“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”

“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.

“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.

It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.

📚📚📚

You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.

It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.

That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.

“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”

“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”

The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”

“Super probably!”

“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”

You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.

“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.

“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”

Saturday. Thank goodness.

“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”

Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.

“Some other time, yeah?”

If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.

“Yeah, maybe.”

You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.

Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.

“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.

“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”

“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”

“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.

“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”

“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”

“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”

Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”

You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.

You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.

He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.

“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”

Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???

“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”

Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.

Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”

“You too.”

He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.

But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.

And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.

He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.

You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.

Shit. It's a bad idea.

A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.

“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”

“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.

[pumpkinpaix]

this is gonna sound so harsh but im legit tired of chinese diaspora people who think that bc they are of chinese descent and they have pleco they can act like voices of authority in the fandom. if modao is the 1st chinese book you have read pieces of with a dictionary, if you have never interacted with the actual chinese fandom, you are not part of the intended audience and your biased opinion is not the One And Only Valid Truth 🍵

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree | this is really hard for me to express in terms of an agree/disagree axis lol

genuinely cannot tell if you’re trying to shade me here anon lmao 😂

this got long and rambly (of course) asldkjfslj. i would love to make the excuse that it’s bc i’ve got a migraine and had No Sleep but. let’s be real i’m always like this.

ok i’ll start with where i agree: i don’t think anyone has the right to act like an ultimate voice of authority in fandom. i think different people with different backgrounds have varying realms of expertise and they should be respected when they share that knowledge, but that the instant someone starts to use that kind of power as a weapon against people they personally don’t like, i think they forfeit that privilege. no one has the one and only valid truth about a piece of media because that’s fundamentally impossible. i have definitely interacted with diaspo who behave like their heritage gives them some kind of incontrovertible authority over everyone else, and they’re fucking insufferable and often rather cruel, even/especially towards other diaspo. meet me in the denny’s parking lot and fight me for real. i’ll kick ur ass. >:c

however, I also think it’s true that there’s a lot of dismissal of heritage fans in this fandom, if that makes sense, from both sides of the equation: non-Chinese fans ignore our cultural hangups because they’re inconvenient, and non-diaspora disdain us for being not Chinese enough. that puts a lot of us in a position of feeling disrespected just for being who we are, or having our very real knowledge and unique experience as individuals devalued because of it.

regardless of my identity, I have formally studied a lot of things: literary translation, media analysis, the politics of oppression, film critique, religious studies, philosophy, four foreign languages etc. and that is all knowledge that I had to work for, and work hard for. I do have a certain measure of authority on all of these subjects over a layperson (to varying degrees), and there are going to be times when i will be more correct than someone who disagrees with me -- but I’ve also absolutely experienced people talking over that specialized knowledge because of who I am, which is, to be clear. extremely infuriating and hurtful. like, i have cried so much about it in the last 18 months. people see my racial and cultural identity before they see anything else, which is understandable to a degree, but upsetting when it becomes the basis for how my work is judged, whether positive or negative. i don’t want you to trust me blindly because i’m abc. I want to you to trust me because you have examined my work critically and judged it to be trustworthy!

so i guess this is getting into the strongly disagree part of the answer: i’ve been speaking a lot with other diaspora fans lately, and it’s been simultaneously hugely relieving and also really saddening. relieving because oh thank god someone else Gets It, and saddening because pretty much all of us, no matter what kind of diaspo we are (north american, european, SEA, taiwanese etc), we’ve all experienced a lot of pressure in this fandom, from non-Chinese, Chinese, and other diaspora fans alike. we’re all acutely aware that we are not modao’s intended audience because being diaspora vs being “from the mainland” or whatever, are actually quite different things, but modao still feels close to home. even if it was not written FOR us it is still familiar to us.

and, because so many of us are multilingual and multicultural, we end up being the bridge between the “actual” chinese fandom and the english-speaking fandom, which is largely made up of non-chinese. (sidenote: I hate it when people say things about being “actually” any identity because it’s almost always for the exact reason you brought up: to use heritage as street cred. it’s like damn, being “actually” chinese doesn’t make ur opinions any less rank. sure you might be “actually” chinese, but do you have basic reading comprehension and literary criticism skills? no? ok then sit your ass back down) many of us are most comfortable in english! so we produce our content in english! but we also DO often have a somewhat privileged access to the culture that underlies mdzs and can explain it in a language that other non-Chinese fans can understand. so it’s not surprising that people flock to us for answers to their cultural questions. and like. if we think we know the answer, it’s natural for us to try and help. this is fandom! we’re here to have fun and find community! and it is definitely a little bit nice to have my culture treated as something desirable for once instead of just like. a weird exotic curiosity that no one really cares too deeply about. and, since a lot of us are able to do things that non-Chinese fans can’t (research in chinese, for example. ask family members for help and more information etc.) we end up just having more information to share.

I think this sometimes results in a tendency for fandom at large to put heritage/diaspo fans on pedestals and tout them as authorities (or use our conflicting viewpoints as ammunition in fandom drama) when the diaspo in question have repeatedly stated that they should not be taken as authorities on something -- and then, once you reach critical mass, your reputation starts to precede you, and I think there’s a lot of misconceptions of how a lot of diaspo act in this fandom simply because of that phenomenon. most of us know that we’re not ultimate arbiters of some kind of cultural gateway, and it can be very tiring both to be treated as such when we insist we are not, and then punished by other people who assume that we acted like we were.

i don’t think there’s a benefit in trying to keep en fandom and cn fandom totally separate, and I also think it’s unfair to consider the cn fandom the “real” fandom. i think that way lies deeper misunderstandings, gatekeeping, etc. i think we can definitely acknowledge the differences between them, but i think trying to make meaningful connections between fandom circles is really valuable! i don’t think i’ve ever made it a secret that modao is my first cmedia fandom? so it’s also the first time i’ve had reason to interact with chinese fandom, which has been super enlightening and interesting! i’ve made some super cool friends and learned a lot about how fandom works in china, how it’s similar and how it differs from the fandom i’m familiar with.

and then, kind of circling back around, there’s also a bit of a sense like, okay, so if diaspo don’t belong in the CN fandom, but we can’t talk about our own culture with some degree of confidence in EN fandom, then like..... where do we go...? if we see EN fandom doing something that contradicts our cultural knowledge, do we just. not say anything? do we not count unless we’ve already ingratiated ourselves to CN fandom? that’s probably where the core of my strong disagreement comes from, because criticism of diaspora fans as like, acting above their station so to speak, feels just like a tired continuation of the same shit we’ve had to deal with for our whole lives, being told we’re not good enough for anywhere and that we should just be quiet and keep our heads down and get over it. that our opinions, despite coming from a unique perspective with a unique relationship to the subject in question, are less valid or real than “actual” chinese people, you know? and sometimes i see that and im like lmfao just sneer at me for being jook-sing and leave then if you’re so eager to think of me as lesser.

so yeah, basically im of a few minds: true! diaspora fans don’t get to throw their weight around just because they’re diaspo. they don’t get carte blanche to act like bullies or try to shape the fandom to their own personal liking and crusade against people who disagree with them. they don’t get to pretend their heritage makes them superior to everyone else, and i think western diaspora especially need to be careful when asserting any kind of moral lens over the text to acknowledge that we have our own biases to interrogate. i am not immune.meme etc. on the other hand, this vein of criticism tends to put all diaspo in a bit of a double-bind, and also, however unintentionally, plays into the general, continuous trend of dismissing diaspora for being diaspora, and i’m really not about that. i don’t think that’s the motivation behind opinions like this, but i do think that when the basis for the argument hinges on the idea that diaspora are not “real” chinese, no matter how much I too have beef with certain diaspora fans, the argument needs to be revisited. 

(ko-fi)

🍵 ((un)popular) opinions meme

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[procrastinatingnerd]

Hi everyone! So this was my first time taking part in the @osemanversebigbang but I had so much fun!! I can't wait to read everyone's entries! 💜

Title: Angel Rahimi And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Lunch Break

Characters: Angel, Juliet, Rowan, Jimmy, Lister, Bliss, two of Angel’s future uni friends (OCs).

Spoilers? Minor spoilers of important events in “I Was Born For This”.

Word Count: 3.6k

Ships: Bicci, one joke about Juliet/Rowan.

~Joan of Arc (Probably)

“I am so fucking tired”

“Right, time’s up, put your pens down.” The exam officer says from the front of the room. I scribble one last sentence before my hand gives out, and I all but throw my pen onto the desk, sighing as dramatically as I can. This week is a fucking nightmare. Exams and assignments are the piss. Fuck uni, I’m ready to drop out. Or drop dead. Either works, honestly.

As I leave the exam hall, I walk past some people from the students’ union. They’re handing out flyers for the Christmas ball next week. My housemates are all planning on going, but my friends and I planned our present swap for that night, so we’re going to spend it eating a fuck ton of snacks and watching the cheesiest Christmas films we can find. I can’t wait, I bought them each a bag of their favourite sweets from the American candy shop, it's going to be so much fun!

But that’s next week. Right now, all I want is to sit at a table that doesn’t have an exam paper on it, and eat something very greasy and very unhealthy. There’s a pizza place just on the edge of campus, run by some of the culinary arts students, and they make the best sauce ever. It’s pretty cheap too, which makes it a favourite for most people, especially at the end of a semester, when everyone’s bank accounts are running low.

I have about an hour until I need to be back in the exam hall, so I take full advantage of the outdoor seating and collapse into a chair after ordering. My pizza is brought out to me not long after, and I breathe in the smell. Nothing has smelt more gorgeous than the slices sitting in front of me. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for December at least, and for a moment, everything feels calm. I can hear a bird singing in a tree somewhere, other students are hanging around campus, most with their noses in their phones or in textbooks, and I actually let myself relax for a bit. I’ve done all the revision I can for this next exam, and I’m in desperate need of a break. I deserve this.

I pick up my first slice of pizza, and bring it up to my mouth. As I’m about to take a bite, however, my phone rings. I put the pizza down with a sigh and answer the phone without looking at who’s calling. Mum probably sensed I wasn’t doing any work, and is calling to check up on me.

“Hello?” I say tiredly.

“Angel, hi! Is this a good time??” I grin at the sound of Juliet’s voice.

“Hell yeah, it’s a perfect time! What’s up?”

“Wait, you don’t know why I’m calling?” Juliet says hesitantly. Shit. What have I forgotten now? I know it’s not her birthday. Wait, is it mine?? I swear exams rot your brain, have I actually forgotten my own birthday?

“No…?” I ask after internally monologuing for way too long.

“Oh my god, you don’t know??” Juliet screeches in my ear, “Angel go look at your phone, it’s urgent!”

Now very concerned, I put Juliet on speaker and, for the first time all morning, actually read the notifications filling my lock screen. I open the Twitter news one, and my mouth drops open in shock.

“Holy shit.”

On my screen is a news article with a headline that reads, “THE ARK’S JIMMY KAGA-RICCI AND LISTER BIRD’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED”, and just below it sits a large photo of Jimmy and Lister, standing outside a pub, kissing. I don’t believe it.

“Holy fu- Hold on a second. Mate, isn’t that the pub by Piero’s house?!” I say, bringing my phone as close to my face as I can, as if that’ll help me see better. There’s a loud shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and then I hear a gasp.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Juliet says. “Rowan said they were going on holiday, but I thought he meant abroad or something.” I smile at that. Ever since our little jaunt to Kent last summer, Juliet and I have kept in touch with the boys. We even have a group chat now; us and them and even Bliss is in it. I’m so glad we stayed friends.

At first, Rowan was really quiet, and if he did speak he and Juliet would almost always end up arguing, but they’ve been getting along quite well lately. I’m not saying I ship it or anything, I’ve learnt my lesson there, but I have to say, fangirl-to enemies-to lovers would make a wicked fanfiction trope.

“Did you see any of this coming?” Juliet continues. “Surely Jimmy would have said something to you?”

“He said he was dating someone, but didn’t want to give details because they were taking things slow. Well, that and that celebrity phone hacking scandal freaked him right the fuck out, remember?” I say.

"That's

right, he stopped talking on the group chat for like two weeks, didn’t he?” Juliet giggles back. “Well, nevertheless, I’m happy for them. They’re cute together.”

“Yeah, they are.” I grin again. “Oh my god, poor Rowan though! I’d hate to live with a couple, especially a new one! It’d be nauseating.”

“Oh I know, right? And imagine what’ll happen when they have their first fight!” Juliet gasps again. I shudder at the thought.

“I’m muting the group chat when that happens.” I joke.

“Not a bad idea.” Juliet laughs back, then pauses. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry I’ve got the get going, but do you want to skype later?”

“Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a revision session at 6, but I should be free by 9ish?”

“Sounds perfect! See you then!” Juliet says, and with that, she’s gone, and I’m back to sitting alone with my pizza.

Jimmy and Lister. Holy shit. I don’t think anyone in the fandom saw this coming. Everything has been about Jowan, since the fandom started growing it’s the only ship that ever existed. No one bothered writing fics about any other pairings. The only Jimmy/Lister fics I ever came across were platonic ones, and even they made sure to mention Jimmy’s boyfriend Rowan.

Oh god, I hope they’re okay. The fans got so crazy when Bliss and Rowan’s relationship was exposed. Jimmy/Lister is the final nail in the Jowan coffin. Jimmy must be having the panic attack of his life! I’ve got to-

My phone rings again.

I look down at the screen, and see Jimmy’s name. I take a deep breath, and answer.

“Jimmy, hi! How are-”

“Have you seen it??”

“Yes.”

“Oh god. This isn’t how we wanted to tell you guys.”

“You sure? Because getting caught by the national press worked so well for you last time.” I tease. Silence. Oops, probably not the best thing to remind him of right now.

“Jimmy, you still there?” I say carefully. There’s a slight rustle on his end, which means he probably just nodded. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise. The fans will move on. They already did with Jowan, right?”

“But what if something happens again? Something like-”

“It won’t. You guys have better security now, and you’re doing less public events. You’re going to be fine.” I hope and pray that I’m saying the right things. Jimmy and I have gotten close lately, but I’m nowhere near as good at helping him deal with his anxiety as Rowan and Lister are. There’s more silence, until finally, Jimmy speaks again.

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. Thanks, Angel.”

“Course I’m right! If there’s one thing I know, it’s fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs, and I grin back. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. This is happening to Lister too, and no doubt Rowan and Bliss will be there to help you. Just talk to them.”

“Thank you Angel, I’ll go do that now.”

“Perfect! Love you Jim, I’ll text you later.” I say, and the call ends.

He’ll be okay. He’s got too many people who love him not to be. I take another breath and put my phone down on the table. As soon as I do, however, it buzzes again, and I see Jimmy is trying to facetime me. Now very concerned, I answer it and hold the phone up so he can see my face properly.

“Jimmy, are you okay, what’s happened??” I ask anxiously, but he looks fine. He looks at me with a confused expression.

“Nothing, I’m just talking to the others, like you said.” He says. It’s only me and him on the call. I stare at him in silence for a moment.

“Jimmy, mate… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not any of them” I say slowly, and to my surprise, Jimmy laughs.

“Yeah I know, but I was kind of hoping to have you here, too, if that’s okay?” He says sheepishly. “It’s okay if you’re busy, it’s just that… I don’t know, you’re good with this stuff and you make me feel calm? Sorry, I know that’s a lot to just dump on you.” Jimmy doesn’t look at me directly, and I start to feel tears in my eyes.

“Well damn, Jim, I guess if you truly love me that much, I can stick around for a bit.” I laugh, and quickly glance at the time. “My lunch break is only halfway over, anyway, so I have plenty of time to hang out while you talk to the others.”

Jimmy seems to let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and grins.

Just as I’m about to start talking again, I hear a ping, and Lister’s face appears on screen, followed by Rowan and Bliss.

“Hey Jimjam, you okay?” Rowan asks, looking as calm as ever. “Oh hey Angel.” He adds. I give him an awkward smile.

“Wait, Angel's here?” Bliss interrupts before Jimmy can answer. “Nice, how’s the week from hell going? Didn’t think we’d hear from you until you’d made it through.”

“Yeah it’s rough, but I’m getting there. This is a welcome distraction though.” I grin at her.

“So you’ve seen the pictures then. They look good, right?” Lister chimes in, before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s horrible they found us, fucking pricks, but you’ve got to admit we look good.”

“You can be so self-centred sometimes.” Bliss laughs.

“Come on Lister, this isn’t a joke.” Rowan chides him.

“Well, I guess he isn’t wrong..” Jimmy mumbles nervously and I see him smile a bit.

“See, Jimmy agrees with me!” Lister argues back at Rowan, who rolls his eyes.

“It’s still not something to laugh about.” Rowan says firmly. “Cecily’s already on damage control, cancelling some events, beefing up the security at others, and giving the tabloids hell. She’s also let your grandad know, Jimmy.”

“Wait, aren’t you guys all down there already?” I ask, confused.

“Nah we got back last night. That picture was taken when we went out for lunch the other day. Took their time printing it.” Lister says.

“Probably needed time to pad out their articles. Seriously, how can they write so many pages about two people dating?” Bliss adds.

“Probably whining about how Jowan is now well and truly dead.” Rowan rolls his eyes again. “Although I have to say, I’m pretty happy about that part.” I cringe slightly as he says that. I will never not regret being one of the Jowan fangirls.

“So Cecily’s already got a plan? That’s good, that’s a bit of a relief.” Jimmy speaks up, looking visibly more relaxed than he had sounded over the phone earlier.

“Yeah she’s got it sorted, so we can start planning our Christmas party!” Lister says, making the others groan.

“Lister what the hell makes you think we should be throwing a massive fucking party right now?!” Rowan says, his voice growing louder. Lister goes quiet, looking like he wants to shrink into his seat, before eventually speaking up again.

“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything big, I just mean… Angel, you’re gonna be in London with Juliet, right? Come over, drag Bliss with you, Jimmy can invite his grandad, Rowan you can bring Jade, and there you go, that’s our party!”

“That’s...actually a good idea.” Rowan says, surprised.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Jimmy adds.

“I’m up for it, Angel, do you think Juliet will wanna come?” Bliss says.

“Hell yeah she would, let’s do it!” I reply with a massive smile on my face. Partying with Bliss and the boys sounds like the best way to spend my Christmas London trip. I’ll make sure to tell Juliet about it when I talk to her later. As I start planning all the food I’m going to bring over, and wondering what the boys’ flat will look like at Christmas, the conversation starts up again.

“You sure you’re doing alright, Jimmy? I can come back home if you need me to.” Rowan says, focusing things on the issue at hand again.

“No no, don’t worry, stay with your family. They’d kill me if I made you miss out on spending time with them.” Jimmy jokes. “I’ve got Lister here, and Cecily’s number if I need it. My head isn’t giving me too much grief right now, anyway.”

“Wait, Lister, you’re there with him?” Bliss asks.

“Yeah, check it out!” Lister says, before picking up his phone and moving. He takes us out of what I think was his room, through a hallway and comes out into a large living room, where we can see Jimmy on a sofa looking at his phone. “Say hi to the chat, Jim!”

Everyone laughs as Jimmy gives an awkward wave to Lister’s phone. Lister then hangs up and launches himself into view of Jimmy’s screen, and the two shuffle about until they’re practically sitting on top of each other, faces

squished together so the tiny phone camera captures them both. I hate how cute they look together.

“Alright, if you’re sure, Jimmy,” Rowan says, smiling for probably the first time this whole call.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jimmy smiles back. “This whole situation is terrifying, and I’m more than ready to hide in my room and not see another mad fangirl for the rest of my life, but... if I did that we’d never get to hang out with Angel again.” He finishes, biting his lip as if unsure of whether or not the joke will hit.

“Uh..ouch!” I clap my hand on top of my heart dramatically and laugh, while the others join in. “I’ll have you know I’ve abandoned my fangirl ways. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not completely but I’m not shipping real people anymore, so that’s something, right?!”

Lister is giving Jimmy a look of what I can only assume is pride for making a decent joke during a time of peak anxiety, Rowan has his head in his hands, probably contemplating his life choices now that Lister seems to be rubbing off on Jimmy, and Bliss still looks shocked that such a joke came out of Jimmy’s mouth, not Lister’s. When things calm down again, I check the time and speak up again.

“Well this has been fun Jim, but I’m afraid I have mad fangirl duties to be getting back to. Shrines to build, fanfiction to write, you know how it is.” I say sarcastically.

“Thanks again, Angel, for being here, and listening. And you’d better be right about that fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs again, although this time I see his smile falter a bit.

“Hey, look at me,” I say, moving as close to the screen as I can without squishing my face on it. “Things will settle down before you know it, in the meantime, we’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.” Rowan and Bliss nod in agreement, and I see Lister hug Jimmy closer. Jimmy takes a breath and nods as well.

“Thanks Angel. And good luck with your exam. We’ll see you over the holidays.” He smiles.

“Yeah you got this Angel, go smash it!” Bliss chimes in, giving me a thumbs up and a grin. I say one last goodbye to them all, and hang up.

I look back down at my pizza, still uneaten. I need to stop letting myself get distracted during phone calls. I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time. I’m usually a master at it.

“Fereshteh!” I look up again. Either I’m going loony, or someone just said-

“FERESHTEH!” I turn around and see Mollie and Christina barrelling towards me, with the most excitement I’ve ever seen on a students’ face during exam season. They crash into my table and both start talking at once.

“Have you seen??”

“Did you know??”

“How long have they been together?!”

“Oh my god is this why you won’t tell us about what happened in Kent?!”

“Woah, easy on the interrogation! Seriously, you guys need to work on your interview skills.” I put my hands up in surrender and laugh. Mollie rolls her eyes at me.

“So? Did they tell you or what?” She asks again. I roll my eyes back at her.

“You know I don’t want to tell you guys anything about the boys. They trust me, and I’m not going to fuck that up because of some shit a tabloid prints.”

“How dare you appeal to our morality and ethics, we want gossip dammit!” Christina giggles, lightly banging her fist down on the table.

“Then stick to the Twitter pages.” I stick my tongue out at her. Mollie and Christina are two of my housemates, and are part of the Ark fandom. I never planned on telling them about Kent, but they figured out who I was thanks to the pictures of me and Jimmy on the train. I didn’t think you could tell it was me, but fangirls are like master detectives. They figured it out in less than a week. They haven’t told anyone though, they’re good mates.

“So how are you feeling about all of this? Whether you knew or not, having it out in the press like this is a lot to handle, especially after last time.” Mollie says, now in serious mode.

“It is a lot, definitely, but they’ll be fine. They’ve had this happen before and they know what to expect from the fans. I just wish I could be there for them.” I say, sitting back in my chair.

“I get

that, it must suck that you guys are so far apart now.” Christina chimes in.

“I mean it’s not like we ever lived close to each other before. The only reason we even crossed paths over the summer was because I was staying with a friend. But yeah, being away from them all is kind of hard sometimes.” I sigh dramatically, making Mollie and Christina grin.

“Are you going to visit them over Christmas?” Christina asks.

“I’m definitely going to visit my friend in London again, for a day or two, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to see the boys.” I quickly lie. “They cut back on public events but they’re still really busy most of the time. And this,” I gesture to my phone “definitely won’t help.”

“We’ll keep an eye on fandom updates for you, and try to shut any mentions of Jowan down,” Mollie says, reaching across the table and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze hers back and give her a grateful smile. I mostly stopped interacting with the fandom after meeting the boys, reading fanfiction, and discussing theories with other fans just feels weird and creepy to do when the people you’re talking about are your friends. So it’s nice that I have Mollie and Christina looking out for them, and doing what I can’t. Christina has a pretty big following on Tumblr, and Mollie’s a Twitter ace, so I trust them to hold their ground with the fandom.

“Okay, you don’t have to give us any details, but genuinely, what do you think of Lister and Jimmy as a couple? Because I don’t think the fandom could handle a breakup.” Christina says after a while, making me laugh.

“Pfft, yeah I don’t think the boys could handle a breakup, either.” I smile. “But honestly? I think they’ll be good for each other. Lister is good at helping Jimmy relax and step out of his anxiety bubble, and Jimmy can help reign in Lister’s chaotic energy. Plus they’re freaking cute together, I mean just look at this picture!” I finish, gesturing dramatically to my phone again.

“They are so cute!” Mollie nods in agreement. “I’m actually shocked no one thought to ship them together before.”

“That’s the Jowan storm, for you,” Christina adds. “Can’t believe we ever shipped that.”

“So gross.” I shudder at the thought. Suddenly the alarm I’d set this morning went off, making us all jump.

“What’s that?” Mollie asks. I check the screen and practically leap out of my seat.

“Oh shit, my exam starts in 10 minutes!” I say, gathering my stuff up as quickly as I can. I say my goodbyes to Mollie and Christina and start running back across campus to the exam hall.

I make it just in time, much to the invigilator’s chagrin, check my bag in at the desk at the back of the hall, and collapse into my assigned seat. The exam starts, and it’s only when it does that my stomach reminds me that I never actually ate lunch. Shit.

I start to silently scold myself for being so stupid, when my mind starts drifting to the video chat with Jimmy and the others. He and Lister looked so comfortable with each other. Makes sense, they've known each other for so long. But even still, Jimmy looked so much happier once Lister sat down with him, and Lister himself practically seemed at home with Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him. I smile at my exam paper.

I’m so happy for them.