#god and previous grads all said how mean she was but she was so nice when I had her. and we all thought it was bc she was in a happy rel

[applecherry108]

Just found out that my old university is in deep shit for firing 2 tenured professors, one of which was “from the Japanese department”

…..there’s only one tenured prof in the jpn department, and it’s my old sensei. They fucking fired one of the best educators at that stupid place and she was tenured.

Worse still is I went and found her on Facebook only to learn her husband passed away January of last year.

Good luck getting me to pay off those loans now, assholes.

#can I pay my loans directly to my sensei? honestly if it weren’t for her and her classes I might actually have dropped out #she was such a light in my life even when I was too anxious and terrified of her to conjugate properly XD #god and previous grads all said how mean she was but she was so nice when I had her. and we all thought it was bc she was in a happy rel #*relationship. and now her husbands gone?? AND she was laid off despite tenure??? #stfu imai can have all my money I hope my uni fucking closes #apple talks #to the tune of spam

[softprettything]

late bloomer, ch 5

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: Nobody ever said falling in love with your best friend would be easy.

Taglist (new!): @silverhetdanes

late bloomer, ch 5

“God, another flat white?” You grit your teeth together as you tack the order sticker to the cup and pass it off to Hikaru. “Fucking grad school hipsters.”

“Says Miss matcha latte, please, with oat milk and a pump of vanilla? ”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“One, yes you do,” Kaoru chimes in from your left, grabbing the cup from his twin. (He’s right. You absolutely do.) “And two, you’re just pissy because Haruhi’s missing your super-special, super-roomies slumber party thing.”

You snatch the cup back from him, and push past to the steamer. “It’s a movie night. And it’s tradition. We’ve done it every year since we were eight.”

“So? It’s not like you’ll never see her again.”

Hikaru nods. “You literally live together.”

“Every year,” you repeat stubbornly. “For almost two decades.”

“And I’m sure you’ll do it every other year for centuries to come.”

“Kaoru’s right, (Y/N). Look at it from her perspective.”

“I am .”

“You sure? Because last I checked, it’s not every day you get asked out by an incredibly rich, incredibly good-looking omega.”

“He wasn’t that good looking.”

“But he is rich,” he counters. You open your mouth, and he raises his hands. “I know, I know. Saint Haruhi would never care about something so superficial as looks or money.”

“Probably she just likes that he’s assertive enough to ask her out to her face.” Kaoru leans against the counter next to you, crossing his arms, and leans in, staring at you almost as hard as you’re trying to avoid making eye contact with him. “Instead of, I don’t know, pining after her for years …”

“Shut up.” You look at the clock, and shove the finished drink at him. “And start closing out the register, while you’re at it.”

You escape to wipe down the empty tables, stacking chairs on them once they’re clean. The last customer takes her drink and, mercifully, immediately leaves. You lock the door behind her.

“Someone’s in a rush to get out of here,” one of the twins calls over the counter. You roll your eyes, though it’s more out of affection than annoyance. Or at least equal parts affection and annoyance. When they first started working at Ground Up (one of the busier coffee shops on campus) two summers ago, you were primed to dislike them—the class clown energy, the endless quips and banter.  And you, as the most senior barista on shift, had the joyful task of trying to wrangle them into model service workers. In hindsight, maybe you were a touch too strict. You can’t imagine they liked you all that much back then, either. Those first few weeks in particular were so isolating—the way they talk to each other is almost like a secret language. You suppose that’s one of the perils of sharing a womb for nine months.

But at some point—somewhere between arguing about an espresso machine malfunction, and Hikaru walking in on you crying in the supply closet after a particularly stressful shift—they must have decided to adopt you, or something.

Of course, that doesn’t mean they tease you any less.

But it’s never mean spirited. And it’s nice to have that camaraderie. To be included in their secret language. And besides—no matter how much they may annoy you sometimes, there’s a special tie that forms between a couple of poor kids having to deal with the same stuck-up trust-fund babies coming into the cafe, day in and day out. You guys are trauma bonded, in a way.

“Remind us again why you haven’t asked her out?”

“I—”

“Ohhh, shit, that’s right—you don’t have a reason!” Kaoru cuts you off. “You’re just a wimp.”

Then again, being trauma bonded with them means they know all of your deepest, darkest secrets. Which gives them tons of material with which to be annoying as hell.

“I’m not—” You stop, and sigh. “I’m not going to dignify that with a response.”

“Mm hm.”

“And besides, it’s not like I haven’t told you before.”

“Right.”

“Fine! Fine.” You pause your chair-arranging to face them, ticking off reasons on your fingers. “I don’t want to ruin two decades of friendship. The last thing Haruhi or I need is a relationship when we’re already swamped with school and loans and all of that crap. I’d rather ask her out after school, when we’re employed and financially stable. Odds of college sweethearts lasting are zero to none already, and I don’t want to sour a perfectly good relationship with pointless arguments.” All that endless bickering. For some reason, your mind flickers back to your arguments with Kyoya—in class, at the hospital. The memories alone are enough to set that familiar fire of rage alight in your chest, send the blood rushing through your ears.

“But don’t you think—”

You put a chair up onto a table with such vigor that it ends up slipping right back off, crashing to the ground so loudly that you actually jump. They both rush to your side.

“You okay?” Hikaru asks, as his brother puts the chair up properly.

“I…I have to go.”

“...Okay.”

“I told Haruhi I’d be back in time to help her pick out an outfit,” you say. They both groan. You turn away from them, wiping down another table that you may or may not have already wiped down two minutes ago.

“(Y/N).”

“This is starting to get sad.”

“I mean, it was sad already.”

“Really sad.”

“But c’mon.”

“Guys!” You whirl around with your hands in the air. “Really. It’s not a big deal. She’ll go out on one date with him, and then she’ll get bored, and then…” You notice them exchange a look. “What?”

“Tamaki Suoh can be…a lot,” Hikaru starts. You snort.

“Yeah, I noticed. That’s what I mean, they’re nothing alike at all—”

Kaoru shakes his head. “What we mean is, he can be persistent.”

“Single-mindedly persistent. And charming.”

“ Really charming. When he sets his sights on a goal—”

“And right now it sounds like his goal is to romance Haruhi—”

“He won’t stop at anything.”

You roll your eyes. “So? Haruhi’s not going to get fooled by some…some insincere rich guy who’s just trying to smash.”

“I said romance ,” Hikaru repeat. “If he asked her out, it’s because he wants to date her. As in, a real relationship.”

You think back to the way he looked at her in the hospital. Sure. You suppose that makes sense. “Okay.” You cross your arms. “But, I mean, that isn’t only his call to make. She has to like him enough to want to date him.”

“Yeah. And clearly, she already does,” he points out.

You open your mouth, then close it. Uncross your arms, then cross them again. “How do you know so much about this guy, anyway? I’ve never even heard you mention him before.”

They exchange another look. An infuriatingly unreadable look. It's the kind of look that reminds you—no matter how good friends you may be, you didn't share a womb with them, and you'll never be able to read their secret language completely.

“We’ve had a lot of classes with him,” Kaoru finally volunteers.

“Yeah. That.”

You give them an odd look of your own, before returning to cleaning. “Whatever.”

They sigh in unison. “It’s really not healthy for you to be fixating so much on one person, (Y/N),” says Hikaru.

“You think I don’t know that? Trust me, I’d love to just be able to go on dates with people.”

“I don’t think you do, though, is the thing.” Hikaru hops up to sit on the table you’re wiping. You stop, but avoid making eye contact. “It’s starting to feel like an excuse, at this point.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Like, as long as you’re so focused on not-dating Haruhi, you don’t have to go through the stress of actually dating anyone.”

“And then you don’t have to open up to anyone, which means you don’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

You plop down in one of the remaining chairs, and raise your eyebrows at them. “What is this, one of your psych projects?”

“I mean it! And hey, look—if you want to be single, then stay single. But don’t do it because you’re stuck in a one-sided unrequited whatever.”

“And if you do have to be stuck in a one-sided unrequited whatever, why not switch it up? Pick someone else for a change. You don’t have to automatically be in love with the person you’ve known the longest.”

“Yeah. If that was the case, Hikaru and I would be screwed.”

You let yourself crack a smile at that. “Fine. I hear you, okay? I don’t necessarily agree with you…but I hear you.” You glance at your watch. “Shit. I have to run—you guys can put this last chair up, right?" You grab your bookbag off the floor and take off. "And don’t forget to take out the trash!” you call over your shoulder.

As the door closes behind you, the twins look at each other and shake their heads.

#🌱.kyoya #kyoya/reader #late bloomer #kyoya x reader #ohshc x y/n #kyoya fanfic #kyoyaxreader #a/b/o #a/b/o fanfic #abo #softprettything #ohshc fanfiction #ohshc fanfic #chai.writes

[lacharcutiere]

still [sawamura daichi]

1,6k words

previous | masterlist | next ➪

part eight of i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone miniseries. you can only put these things off for so long.

JST: japanese standard time (GMT +9). EST: eastern standard time (GMT -5). EDT: eastern daylight time (GMT -4).

tings // fluff, a little bit of angst, kinda suggestive at the end ?? // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend's pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to taglist ! minors dni.

☾𓆙𓂻

— JAPAN, SUMMER 2024.

the summer passes like this: you and daichi laughing too loudly in busy restaurants and train cars; having arms around each other in the back of taxis on the way home from clubs; making instant udon at three a.m.; walking up and down the neighborhood a hundred times; laying silently side by side and not needing to say anything. it's a routine, it's familiar—it's home.

a couple weeks before you're set to head back to new york, daichi asks you a question as you lay next to him on a blanket in your driveway, staring up at the stars.

"have you decided what your plans are after college?"

"i'm gonna come back here."

"i thought you wanted to go to grad school? you can do way better in the states, especially with a degree from columbia."

you roll onto your side so you can look at him better. "i know. but i've been away too long already. i miss you."

he gives you a little smile. "but i'm right here."

"right here is pretty fucking far from america."

"hm."

"hm."

that's the end of the conversation.

— 2 AUGUST 2024. 23:09 JST.

everything happens the exact same way it has for the past three years: he takes you to the airport. you try hard not to cry; you say your goodbyes. check-in, security, buy some candy to eat at the gate. board the plane. sixteen hours later, you're in america.

one thing was different, though.

when he said goodbye, his lips touched yours.

you don't stop thinking about it for weeks.

☾𓆙𓂻

— AUGUST TO NOVEMBER 2024.

slightly relieving is the fact that amid thesis writing and too many classes and working an internship under one of your professors (that one's nice, it even earns you enough to get a small apartment a few blocks from campus), there proves to be little time to be spent missing daichi.

you finesse your schedule to fit weekly facetimes on friday evenings (new york time) and shoot random texts back and forth about your day between classes and during meals, and without much space for anything else, it's enough. good things are worth waiting for, anyway.

— DECEMBER 2024.

but then winter sem break rolls around and there's no school so it's back to having too much lonely alone time with your thoughts. you write daichi a christmas card and drop it off at the post office. it's early this year, but oh, well.

☾𓆙𓂻

a week before christmas you receive a call from an unknown number. the phone speaker crackles when you accept the call.

“hello?”

“hey.” the voice on the other end is bright, smiley, accented. it’s tōru.

“tōru? what’s up?”

“i’m outside,” he says, “come down and meet me?”

you’re a little confused, but you decide to humor him. “uh, okay, give me a minute… do i need anything?”

“bring a coat, it’s cold out. i’ll be waiting down here.” the call ends.

a few minutes later you push through the doors of the building to be met with a brisk wind and tōru standing by a payphone, grinning.

“do you have your subway pass?”

you feel inside your pocket for it and nod.

“good,” he says. “come on, we’re in a hurry.”

“where are we going?”

“downtown.”

“ohhkay?”

he laughs. “‘s not anything you won’t like, promise.”

you follow him into the nearest subway entrance, lost in thought as you push through the barrier and step onto the train. it's only when he nudges you and says, "this is our stop," that you realize you've been looking at the ground the whole time.

tōru notices how absent you seem to be and asks, "are you okay?"

"i would be if i knew what was going on," you respond.

"yeah," he says, leading you up the stairs and into the terminal, "yeah, i think you will be."

you're in grand central. tōru asks if he can borrow your phone for a second. when he hands it back to you, he doesn't say anything, just takes you by the arm smiling widely and leads you into the fray of commuters that fill the station.

"tōru!" you groan, "can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"magnolia," he replies simply.

"we came all the way here just for coffee?"

"mhm."

"tōru!" he stops walking and turns back to you, trying and failing miserably to stop grinning for a second. "what the fuck?"

"come on," he says, "you'll like it."

"we've been here before! what's so special about—"

"you'll see."

☾𓆙𓂻

coffee in grand central is surprisingly good. it's also surprisingly expensive. ah, well, it's new york. new york has much more to offer than just overpriced cafés.

such as... this. such as a laughing man that leads a remarkably pissed-off looking girl by the arm, towards this stupidly good, stupidly overpriced café.

the pair are weaving through a stream of people, almost there, and then they're there, and the girl is looking much less agitated now. she looks somewhere between crying and wanting to run in the opposite direction. thank god, she chooses the former.

he loves you. so much.

☾𓆙𓂻

"daichi?" you mean it to be a scream but your voice cracks a little and it comes out airy.

he has the exact same look on his face that tōru's had this whole time. "hi."

"oh my god, what the fuck?"

"you said it was lonely, tōru told me maybe it would be nice for you to have a date for new year's, i had some extra money saved up. so i came."

"you— what?" you look back at tōru. "you planned this? just? last minute?"

"nah," daichi laughs, "no, i meant to come visit you for christmas a while ago. i already had tickets and everything, i was gonna tell you but then i got your card and figured it might be more fun if it were a surprise."

"oh my god." that's all you can think to say.

— CHRISTMAS 2024.

you can't even explain how good it feels to wake up and walk into the living room to find daichi asleep on your couch on christmas morning, how good it feels for it to not just be you. the whole time he's been here, though, you've forced yourself not to think about the fact that he's going back home in a week and a half, forced yourself not to do anything just yet. soon, though. just a few more months.

☾𓆙𓂻

when he wakes up, you're making coffee for the two of you.

"merry christmas," he says, wrapping one arm around your shoulders. he places a card on the counter in front of you. "open it."

its message is simple.

you do as it says.

"i, uh, haven't gotten you anything yet, but—"

"daichi," you laugh, "it's okay. and um, i may have also not been able to get you anything. also because i didn't know you'd be here."

"wait, wait, i'm not finished."

"okay?"

"what do you want to do after you're done this year of school?"

"i already told you," you say, "i'll move back home."

"no, what do you want to do? you want to go to grad school, right? continue studying here?"

"no, i just want to stop waiting." you sigh, a little frustrated. "i don't wanna have to keep putting this off, it's been—"

he cuts you off. "i'll be here."

"huh?"

"i'll be here. or wherever."

"i don't get it?"

you've always loved the way daichi's nose scrunches up when he smiles. "you're the one planning on studying more, not me. not immediately, anyway. i'll go with you."

"daichi."

"what?"

"you're fucking joking."

he laughs; you look so confused right now. "i'm not. promise."

"i don't even—"

"hey."

"hm?"

"think you can handle long-distance for five months?"

"uh—" you inhale sharply. "yeah."

"good," he says, "then we don't have to keep putting this off."

it's been five months since you last let your lips touch his. it still feels just like the first time it happened.

— 31 DECEMBER, 2023. 19:36 EST.

he tries not to let you pay for dinner, but in the end, you slip the waiter your card while daichi's in the bathroom. it's his birthday; it's your treat.

and after dinner, there's that new year's eve party that tōru's been going on about. it feels good, so good, not to be there alone. it feels good to watch the broadcast from downtown and count the seconds to midnight as daichi's arms are wrapped around you from behind. the clock reaches zero; daichi kisses you hard. you're both drunk on champagne.

you watch him smile across the room at tōru, who's got his girl on his arm. the two of them look happy, too. everything is warm.

— DEPARTURE: 3 JANUARY 2025. 08:15 EST.

daichi's asleep next to you when the alarm on his phone goes off. you'll miss not waking up next to him for the next five months, but at least that's all it will be.

he makes faces at you in the mirror as you both brush your teeth; keeps trying to tug your sweater off when you get dressed. you spend these thirty minutes laughing with him until it hurts. the two of you take the subway back to grand central; make out in a corner of the terminal while he waits for his train to jfk international to arrive.

"see you in may."

— 21 JANUARY 2025.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #daichi fluff #daichi angst #daichi series #daichi smut #kinda #haikyuu series #literally not even like in a romantic way bc thats not how this story goes #but #tōru is best boy #pls he's literally??? so sweet #imagine if boys like this were real #anyway #THIS IS ALMOST DONE ITS THE SECOND TO LAST PART #TECHNICALLY THE LAST BC THE NEXT ONE IS THE EPILOGUE #OMG #ALSO OOPS THIS IS LATE BUT UM IT'S LIKE TWICE AS LONG AS MOST OF THE OTHER PARTS #SO UH YEA

[theawkwardterrier]

my whole trajectory's toward you, and it's not losing momentum (call it anything we want)

Summary: Anthony had expected a certain amount of trouble when he took over managing the Danbury campaign. He didn’t imagine this amount. He didn’t imagine that it might at some point become something other than trouble.

There was mention of rival political campaign managers Kate and Anthony and even though I couldn’t quite get there - or make a scene happen which directly featured Newton 😔 - I did manage rivals and political campaigning. So here’s something to serve as incentive, congratulation, or brief respite depending on how far @thesokovianaccords​ has gotten in her grad school application process. Sorry if it’s a bit OOC, Livia - maybe it’s just the right degree to make sense in a modern AU? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Read on AO3

A week into running Dr. Danbury’s campaign, Anthony realizes that he has made a grave error in allowing himself to give in when his mother requested “a bit of a favor.”

At the time she’d asked, he had just gotten the news that his previous candidate was dropping out of his own race for health reasons, and of course, Dr. Danbury has been a fixture for his entire life so he might well have stepped up merely because she needed help (despite knowing that the reason she needed the help was that she’d fired her entire previous campaign team). Besides that, he has rarely been able to deny his mother anything, and that’s even before she brings up the number of hours she spent in labor with him (twenty-two, as he well knows by now) but still...he damn well should have ignored all that this time.

For his money, the most annoying part of not being listened to by the candidate is that her instincts have mostly served her well. Three days after he started, she ignored the common wisdom of maintaining decorum and not insulting the opposition which he had reminded her of before she went on camera, and had only benefited from it; apparently the majority of the constituency agreed that the particular candidate she had been asked about was indeed a “first class wanker who should pray nightly for the brains God gave a goose.” At least she had heeded Anthony’s advice to refer to the man as “my opponent” rather than using his name and giving him free advertising in the soundbite as it was played on nearly every news broadcast for the next several days.

“Well, we seem to have come out of this one all right,” she says, sipping her coffee and looking just the slightest bit smug - he doesn’t lie to candidates, so he had been obliged to report that the latest polling numbers actually went up after the incident. “Anything else, Bridgerton?”

Swallowing the speech he wants to give about how easily things could shift during a campaign, not to mention the difference between what people told a pollster and how they actually cast their votes, he says, “Perhaps we might look to hire a policy director, ma’am? To help...guide the campaign a bit more?”

“If we did, I should wonder what I had hired you for.” She looks at him over the tops of her glasses as if she can tell he is dreaming of responding that ah, well, it seems he is unnecessary, and perhaps he will just excuse himself from the position now. He makes sure his expression remains neutral and finally she waves a hand. “Well, let me see some names and CVs after the weekend, and I shall decide then.”

“Very good.” He extremely purposefully does not sigh until he is out of her office and striding along the corridor of their campaign headquarters. There are plenty of people who will take a call from him on short notice and who will back him with the candidate. Yes, if he can’t quit altogether (and he can’t if he wants his regular seat at Christmas dinner) then having someone in his corner is just the ticket.

He arrives for work on Monday even earlier than his traditional first thing in the morning, wondering to himself whether it will be better to simply present his top applicants or if he should throw in a decoy or two to make his choices shine even brighter - although perhaps that’s just the sort of ploy that the candidate would sniff out in a heartbeat after a career of wrangling university students. Still debating, he turns the corner toward his office, only to find Dr. Danbury in the hall outside, speaking with someone. Anthony doesn’t recognize the person from the back, can only see a fall of shiny, dark hair, so he guesses it is one of the volunteers, perhaps someone new who has arrived early for orientation. He hopes that Dr. Danbury isn’t being too intimidating.

“Ah, Bridgerton,” the lady in question calls down the hallway, and something about her tone makes Anthony’s spine go straight. “Good morning.”

Still, he clings to his good mood as he greets her. “Let me put my things down, and then we can go over your schedule for the day. And I have those CVs you had requested as well.”

“Nevermind those,” she says, and the little smile on her lips makes every one of his nerves stand on end. “Did you know that your mother and I went out for a drink on Friday evening? Oh, yes, we had a wonderful time, and your brother Colin came around to escort us home. Such a lovely boy, had some delightful stories about his trip to Greece - and so interested in the campaign. In fact, he had a brilliant thought when I mentioned your idea for bringing on someone new to help shape things alongside the two of us.”

Whatever virtues his brother Colin might possess, interest in the campaign is absolutely not among them. Skin humming all over, Anthony manages a casual, “Oh?”

“Indeed, and luckily I was able to organize it all over the weekend so you wouldn’t have to do a thing.” She gestures toward her companion, and with a sick swoop in his stomach, Anthony knows who he is going to see before she shifts around.

“I believe you two have met before?” Dr. Danbury says, voice fading just a bit beneath the static in Anthony’s ears as Kate Sheffield turns to face him.

They have not actually met before, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t know of each other.

The first time Anthony heard her name, it was her sister saying it - about twenty times in a row, if he’s being honest. He met Edie Sheffield two years back at one of his mother’s galas. Edie ran a different prestigious kids charity than the one Mum was fundraising for, so he’d wondered if inviting her was somehow inviting the enemy or maybe bragging. But Edie was sweet, and passionate about her job, and looked absolutely gorgeous in sapphire satin, and he settled into a night of getting her drinks and chatting her up, despite the fact that she didn’t seem as interested in speaking with him as she did in mentioning that he really must talk with her sister.

He’d stayed the night in the hotel where the gala had been held (alone, in one of the rooms which had been set aside for guests from the event; he’d put Edie in a car at about 11) and was planning on taking his mother to breakfast after she came down from her own room. When he went to check out, however, the desk attendant handed him a message which had been taken down for him on hotel stationary.

Dickheads like you shouldn’t try to get with my sister. Don’t do it again.

KS

“Is there anything else that I can assist you with?” asked the attendant, holding onto her poker face remarkably. Perhaps they taught that in hospitality programs.

He’d crushed the note in his hand before smoothing his own face placidly and handing over his credit card. His mother was all smiles and chatter during breakfast, but his mind was still on the note, which seemed to have burned itself behind his eyelids.

Dickheads like you - oh, so only other types of dickheads need apply? And get with? Were they twelve years old and couldn’t use grownup words? Not to mention the signature, such as it was. Trying to play mafia boss, expecting that he’d know who had sent it. He did, but it took a lot of bloody gall to assume that he would.

Not as much gall as Don’t do it again. He couldn’t even think of that part, the demeaning certainty of it, without a certain vein beginning to throb in his forehead.

In the two years since, he found himself falling back into analysis of the note - it was barely more than a dozen words, so how could there still be so much to parse? - whenever her name came up, which became more and more frequent as she moved from nothing campaigns in the most forgotten corners of the country to deputy deputy whatever on somewhat more consequential ones. She was gaining a reputation among his peers. They said she was smart and canny, that she had a knack for looking at the bigger picture and acting on her instincts.

(Someone who’d once worked with her had also mentioned that it helped that she didn’t have a high opinion of her looks, didn’t flaunt herself the way some women did around the office - she certainly didn’t have a reason to do so, but sometimes that didn’t stop them.

“Oh, be fair,” said the other man. “She does have quite a nice—”

They’d shut up when he’d walked into the room - everyone knew better than to talk that way around him, and it wasn’t just because of “all those sisters” the way some people said. Eloise had been interning with the campaign that summer, and for the rest of the day while he’d talked with human resources, he’d let her make mistakes on all of their lunch and coffee orders and give them the wrong data for their reports when they’d made her look it up instead of doing it themselves. When he’d fired them, he spread the word on why, but left the particulars out of it.)

The note returns to his mind whenever someone new has their one experience of suggesting Kate Sheffield as a potential hire, or when he thinks he’s seen her in the background of some press conference or event for another candidate, or if he runs into Edie at another charity function, where he absolutely does not flirt with her just that extra bit harder while part of his mind thinks Your move directly toward her sister who he has never actually met in person.

Until now.

“We’re acquainted,” he tells Dr. Danbury, managing to remain polite by avoiding Kate’s gaze. He leaves it at that.

They’re the first two in the conference room for the all-staff the next morning, and somehow he’s not surprised.

“Good morning,” he says as he comes in to find her over by the coffee. She’s doctoring it significantly, clearly already familiar with the quality to be found in a campaign office. He always buys his own; he can’t stand the amount of milk and sugar and oddly flavored creamers required to make the other stuff palatable (and don’t even get him started on the alleged tea).

Tone cool, she replies, “Mr. Bridgerton,” and takes a sip from her mug.

It isn’t as if the staff goes around calling him “Tony” or “boss,” and only the most knock-kneed newcomers call him “sir.” He’s Anthony to most. He has no inclination to correct her.

He works to keep his tone casual and courteous as usual when he introduces her to everyone (“And this is Kate Sheffield, who will be doing some consulting for us”) but something about it must catch Dr. Danbury’s attention, because she raises an eyebrow at him from her end of the table and rests both hands atop her stick.

The fact that the candidate is aware that something is going on between the two of them makes it all the more exasperating when two days later she signs off on Kate’s media and advertising plan over his own. He shows up for dinner with Daphne and Simon that evening as planned, knowing that Daphne would be completely willing to pull the pregnancy card if he tried to get out of it, but she sends him home before the waiter has brought the dessert menus because he keeps muttering about how more people travel by tube and railways and for longer distances but are more likely to take more individual rides on buses and what that means for posting print ads.

(The numbers are seared into his mind, considering she’d included a full breakdown with three kinds of graphs and bloody footnotes in her presentation.)

Getting released from the restaurant early gives him extra time to go back to the office for a bit and put together a preliminary get out the vote strategy. He calls in several favors as a part of it, including one from an old friend of his father’s who asks incredulously, “Really? For this?” clearly wondering whether Anthony’s reputation is deserved if he’s pulling out all the stops for something so routine.

It’s well worth it, however, when Dr. Danbury raises an eyebrow as she looks over the document he’d put together, and tells him, “Well done, Bridgerton, very well done indeed. I think this shall do nicely.”

He does not even glance toward Kate; there really isn’t any need to gloat.

Well, one tiny peek won’t hurt.

Her jaw is set and her eyes are flinty, but she gives him just the slightest nod, as if to say that he might have won this round, but she’d like to see him try the next one.

Just before three in the morning, he wakes himself, panting, from a dream that makes him think he might have to report himself for workplace sexual harassment.

“I would have hoped you’d have better self-preservation instincts,” he says aloud to his body. “Or at least better taste.”

Collapsing back against the pillows, he pushes his mind toward images of ex-girlfriends and celebrities, but no, there is Kate, strong and challenging and gorgeous above him, a vivid afterimage that refuses to go away, and he sighs and gives into it, trying to set himself to rights so he can get past this and find at least a bit more sleep.

Anthony has never been the sort of boss who shouts at people in the office - he has always tended toward cold anger and “you know what you’ve done, now fix it” stares, and doesn’t intend to act differently now. But as he stalks over to Kate’s desk, he finds a fiercer anger taking over, just a bit.

“You changed my media statement,” he says, voice silken with it as he leans his palms down on her desktop and rests his weight on them. He is speaking low, the words just for her, although his eyes roam over the others moving busily around the main space of the office.

She turns her chair slightly, so that he feels the brush of her hair on his forearms where his sleeves are rolled up; it shifts his attention fully in her direction. Her hair tie had snapped earlier, and the thick topknot she tried twisting for herself has collapsed, leaving it free around her shoulders. He snaps himself back from examining the shining curls as she says, “Yes, I did.”

Part of him admires her straightforwardness, that she takes responsibility without even trying to deny it. The other part...well, the anger hasn’t exactly disappeared.

In a level tone which would have his siblings looking over in alarm, he says. “I had worked that statement out with the entire communications department.”

“The entire communications department does what you tell them to do. It’s what you pay them for.”

“And what, exactly, do I pay you for?”

They are facing each other now, their bodies a bit too close for it. She is looking directly at him, voice sharp and clear as glass. “I was hired by the candidate, to help run the campaign that she wants. Your statement was just a polite walkback of her words.”

He has the sudden thought that the brown of her eyes could be warm, that her gaze probably is warm when she’s looking at her sister or the dog whose photo she has framed on her desk (a plump, panting little corgi wearing a bright blue bow tie, absurd), but he’s never seen her that way. He’s only ever gotten this, annoyance and disdain and perhaps disappointment.

Still, he responds, “Her words need to be walked back if she wants to someday be more than the candidate. In this constituency, colonial reparations aren’t a popular enough issue to increase turnout for those who weren’t already interested, and it’s exactly the sort of thing which will put off those who were on the fence. We’re trying to flip a seat by reminding people of what their current MP is doing wrong; we have to stay on message, not muddy things with topics too few understand. Sending out a statement moderating the comment is the right move.”

“But that statement isn’t what the candidate believes, and her future constituents should know what her actual position is - they likely aren’t as stupid as you seem to think. And besides that, she has the right stance in the first place.”

In the weeks since she arrived, he’s found that the things people said of her were true: she is smart, perhaps too smart for the good of either of them, and decisive, easily seeing what’s been done and what needs to be and acting on it, the exact sort of person you would want at your side as you plot a course forward. But he hadn’t realized that she was a believer.

There are fewer idealists in politics than one might think, or at least who have risen to her level. He always finds them a bit off-putting, and it startles him even more with her - he had thought he recognized in her a sharpness and pragmatism which reminded him of his own.

“Don’t do anything like this again,” he says, trying to temper his own abruptness even as he is somewhat unsettled by the conviction in her. “Or I’ll fire you, and I don’t care what the candidate says about it.”

“I think she would have quite a lot to say in that circumstance,” Kate tells him, but she turns back to her keyboard and doesn’t argue anymore.

At least until the next day, when they end up nearly nose to nose in his office as Anthony maintains that they can’t get anyone’s hopes up with a promise of immediate action on climate change, especially considering the priorities in the party platform and the likely makeup of the next parliament, and Kate practically shouts that they’re showing people where their convictions lie and that Dr. Danbury will fight for them if she gets the chance.

When Anthony dreams of her again that night, they are not talking about policy at all. But when he wakes up, edgy and aching as he is, he finds himself hoping one day to see her smile at him the way he did in his sleep; he wants to know if her eyes really are as warm as he imagined.

On Saturday, there’s such persistent nagging in the older sibling groupchat that Anthony finally gives in and agrees to leave the office for a night out. Forcing him into some allegedly relaxing activity is a time-honored tradition when they’re coming into the final stretch of a campaign; he’s certain the others have been discussing tactics in one of the numerous other chats that are always going on. (The last he’d glimpsed, the sibling group which didn’t include Gregory, Hyacinth, or himself - but did, irritatingly, include Simon - was named “Anthony’s Scary Forehead Vein.”)

“Please tell me that we aren’t going to paint ceramics again,” Anthony says as he walks, hands in his pockets, beside Benedict. Their group is too large to all move together on the sidewalk, which is a bit of a relief. “I don’t think I could put up with another night of Eloise reminding me that there are stencils if I need them.”

Benedict very narrowly and very obviously avoids laughing at him. Now that Anthony thinks about it, actually, his brother had spent that particular outing using a dozen colors to intricately decorate a mug, spending so long on it that they had nearly closed the place around him. Their mother drinks her tea from it frequently, however. “Thankfully there won’t be any pottery or painting tonight.”

“And it’s not—”

“Not a club,” Benedict assures him, then grins. “Can you imagine Simon trying to make certain no one came within a foot radius of Daph on the dance floor?”

Anthony shakes his head, looking ahead of them to where his sister and brother-in-law are walking together, not holding hands, but so close that they might as well be. He still feels a bit strange about the two of them together, especially after all the drama on the way, but he can see that they’re in love each other, even if he can’t really imagine why anyone would want to be, and they’re extremely obviously happy, so he’s trying to grow accustomed to it. He can also absolutely see Simon working himself into knots playing mosh pit bodyguard.

“So where are we going, then?” he asks, but before Benedict can answer, Eloise, broken away from her friend Penelope, tosses her arms over their shoulders and wriggles her face between them.

“You’ll just have to see,” she says, and Anthony doesn’t have to look at her to know that she is twitching her eyebrows at them. He probably could get it out of her if he tried, but he actually is finding himself feeling a little lighter being out with everyone, so he just waits and ten minutes later, they’re entering an already fairly crowded pub. Colin and Eloise go over to register them as a trivia team - or more likely to bicker over what name their team should have. As if realizing the same, Daphne squeezes Simon’s hand once and pushes over to join them.

(Her stomach is still flat, even for someone looking, but Anthony notices that she places a protective hand over it as she walks through the crush anyway.)

The rest of them go to claim a table and start putting together an order for drinks and appetizers. Anthony is leaning across, shouting a promise that if Penelope doesn’t finish her chili loaded potato wedges, they’ll certainly be taken care of, when someone behind him asks, “Excuse me, can we borrow this chair?”

“Sorry, there are more of us coming,” he says politely, turning to face the woman. She’s thirtyish and tall, but that’s all he takes in before he spots, over her shoulder, the rest of her group. They’re all chatting with each other, wearing matching T-shirts in a variety of bold colors which declare them the Quizzie Bennets, and in the center, her hair up in a ponytail and definite warmth in her eyes, is Kate. Edie stands beside her, picture perfect nose crinkled in a teasing way, but all Anthony can notice is that he’s never seen Kate in jeans like this, that the odd, bright purple of her shirt looks electric instead of ugly against the dark of her hair, and all he can think is that he never imagined her as relaxed as she is, weapons laid down.

She seems to detect his gaze then, and as she meets it he expects the weapons to be picked right back up. There’s certainly surprise, a guardedness to her eyes as they meet his, but then she narrows them in his direction, as if saying game on.

So that’s how she wants to play it, he thinks, then turns to the others and says, “No alcohol.”

Benedict blinks. “What do you mean by that?”

“In solidarity with Daphne,” Anthony offers.

“Daph does know that it’s pub trivia,” Simon says. “And she’s not—”

“Fine,” Anthony interrupts before the compliment train can get rolling. He sets his jaw. “I mean that we need to keep clear heads if we’re going to absolutely trounce everyone here.”

Penelope looks a bit alarmed by the vehemence in his tone and Simon quirks a brow, but the others are game enough - Bridgertons have always had a competitive streak, and apparently the rest of them actually chose this particular trivia night because it’s done aloud, infinite bounce style, instead of on paper.

“We play with live ammo around here,” Eloise declares gleefully once she’s returned and been updated on what she missed.

“Damn right we do,” Anthony mutters to himself, glad that he is seated with his back to Kate so he can resist the temptation to see how irritated she looks just now, or how face might be a little flushed and her ponytail loosened from the heat of everyone packed together inside…

“Who exactly do you keep looking for?” asks Colin, who’d plopped himself into the chair Kate’s teammate had asked about. He cranes obviously around, and Anthony turns firmly back to the table before his brother can follow his line of vision.

For all that they didn’t pick their team in order to be serious contenders, they do cover the bases fairly well. Anthony has politics and current events, obviously, along with history. Penelope plays backup there as well, and covers literature alongside Colin, who handily takes on geography too. (Anthony has always inwardly wondered how reasonable it was to build a career around wanderlust and Instagram and freelancing for travel magazines, but if it brings them victory tonight, he will never question again.) Benedict apparently took in more about nature than any of the rest of them who grew up in the Kentish countryside, and knows quite a bit more about art and art history than Anthony had expected. Daphne, unpredictably, knows a lot about sports - she claims that it’s what happens when you spend your life being rambled at as “another one of the boys” - and, more predictably, music.

Anthony hadn’t expected Simon’s skill with numbers to be particularly helpful, but now he’ll have to buy him a drink at some point, both for doubting and for pulling them out of a sticky situation involving Bernstein's constant. He wishes that Francesca wasn’t too young to have come out with them - there are several instances where they could have used her chiming in with quiet calm about anything related to economics or science, but they instead have to all give questionable contributions in that regard. They all chip in for pop culture, too, although Eloise is clearly the master - she actually yawns as she announces that of course the country where Monica’s boyfriend Pete Becker took her on their first date was Italy, and Anthony has never been more grateful that he lets everyone sponge off his Netflix login (although would it really kill them to not be using all the screens on the rare occasions he actually has the time and inclination to watch something?).

The trouble is that there are plenty of other teams who are clearly regulars, and they were put together in order to be serious contenders. The questions and answers are flying through the air, the quizmaster, a skinny older man with big hair shouting “Correct! For ten points,” more often than not, and most importantly, the Quizzie Bennets are availing themselves nicely. (He should have guessed as soon as he saw the matching T-shirts.)

Questions his team can’t answer correctly bounce to them next, and he can’t help but toss Kate an incredulous look after she not only answers that Angela Merkel was voted chancellor of November rather than October 2005, but also rattles off the margin for and against. Her eyes meet his as if she was expecting his glance, but she just shrugs before wrapping her lips around her straw and taking a dainty sip of her drink. He has to look away then.

Still, Team Quizerton (apparently the name that both Colin and Eloise had hated enough for Daphne to negotiate them to agreement) has done well enough that Anthony feels confident as they move into the final round.

“And what will the twist be tonight?” the excitable quizmaster asks, although he then just presses a button on his phone rather than spinning some kind of enormous wheel. His face lights up as he announces grandly, “Ah, the ladder!”

He quickly outlines the rules: each team will have five questions selected for them in ascending order of difficulty, with point values from ten to fifty. For each correct answer, they will receive the corresponding points and the option of requesting a related bonus question for half the initial question’s value. Wrong answers mean a point deduction, double for bonus questions, and the end of play for that team. You can also pass, choosing another team to answer and forfeiting further questions for yours but freezing your points where they stand.

It’s more like a game show than any trivia night that Anthony is familiar with, but he actually appreciates the strategy element; he can understand why this would be Kate’s preferred contest.

He considers giving a pep talk to the table, but all of them - except for Simon, who’s looking somewhere between vaguely amused and bored - are dialed in, ready to claim victory, so he settles back and readies himself for it too.

It happens in the final round. Anthony is just allowing himself to feel the slightest bit smug at having earned them another 75 points by not only correctly responding that Sri Lanka was the first country to have a female prime minister, but answering the bonus of her name (Sirimavo Bandaranaike) and year of election (1960) as well. The quizmaster nods, turns, and reads off the next question: “This famous playwright’s last words were reportedly ‘I knew it! I knew it! Born in a hotel room and, goddamn it, dying in a hotel room.’”

There’s a strange, deep silence, then a buzz of whispering among the Quizzie Bennets, and Anthony is struck by the realization that they don’t know the answer. He certainly doesn’t either, and a glance around at his group tells him that they would have been screwed had they gotten the question, but it doesn’t matter. Excitement licks up his throat, victory so close he can taste it…

And then Kate’s head comes up from the huddle, and her eyes meet his, and he knows exactly what she is going to do before she does it.

“Ten seconds!” says the quizmaster.

“Trust me,” Kate mouths to her teammates, and then says aloud, “We’d like to pass, and give the Know It Ales a chance to answer.”

Anthony’s mouth goes dry. Stupid team name aside, they’ve been confidently answering questions all night, and this time is no different. Their leader is nearly bored as he immediately says, “Eugene O’Neill.” And Anthony can barely hear the room around him over the blood rushing in his ears as they answer the follow-up too.

When the quizmaster declares the Know It Ales the champions for the evening, Kate slings her arms around her teammates and cheers as if he’s announced her name instead. The other Quizzie Bennets look puzzled, but when she stares defiantly at Anthony, chin raised, beaming, glowing not like she’s in the spotlight but like she’s the light itself, he somewhat suspects that she’s the winner indeed.

“Isn’t that—” Colin starts somewhere close to Anthony’s ear.

“No, it is not,” Anthony tells him firmly, and wrestles him off to pay their tab.

Later that night, after he’s somewhat successfully distracted himself with work and somewhat less successfully distracted himself with looking for something to watch (why isn’t everyone asleep, and even if they are up, could they really not leave him one available screen?) he finds himself sitting on the edge of his bed with his work phone in one hand and his personal one in the other. And even though he knows exactly how bad an idea it is, he very carefully references the campaign contact group and keys one number into a new text message in his personal phone.

Sorry that this didn’t seem to be your night. Best of luck to your team next time.

He shoves out a breath and stands as soon as he’s sent it, forces himself to start getting ready for bed; she’s probably asleep now, or she might read it as rude or sarcastic and choose not to respond, and the text is just going to sit there, awkward and interminable…

There are plenty of ways to be lucky, thanks very much, and I think we found one - although I look forward to reclaiming my rightful title someday soon. See you on Monday, Bridgerton.

Regardless of what he tells himself, he can’t quite get the stupid grin off his face as he shuts off the light. He’s under no illusions about who his dreams will feature tonight.

Monday night before the election, Anthony leaves the office past eleven. He rubs his eyes as he walks past dark cubicles and conference rooms - unsurprisingly, he’s the last one around - and decides that what he needs more than sleep is something to eat, and not whatever cup noodles or single egg he might come up with at home. No, he needs comfort food, something generous and hot and greasy as Benedict’s face the year he was thirteen (not that his at fifteen was much better).

His favorite hole in the wall is open until midnight, so he stumbles over there and buys the biggest order of chips he can, the enormous burger nearly an afterthought. The place is tiny and not the sort of spot that has ever even heard of ambiance, but he’s tired and the idea of waiting to get back to his flat and eating in its emptiness isn’t particularly appealing. He turns with his food in hand and finds Kate looking up at him, startled, from one of the three tables.

He could take one of the others, leave them to eat in awkward peace, or he could pretend he had always intended to have his food to go. Instead he comes over and asks, “Can I join you?”

Her capable hands moving just a note too slowly, as though giving him time to reconsider, she collects the documents from the opposite side of the table, tapping them into order as he waits patiently. She folds her fingers atop the neat stack in front of her once she’s finished, watching as he dives into his meal; he should probably be embarrassed about it, but he doesn’t really have the energy.

They talk about inconsequential things - how the weather forecast might cause trouble with voter turnout, the unfortunate office incident with Johnson and the speakerphone last week, mutual political acquaintances - and Anthony realizes that it’s the first time they’ve ever done this, just made small talk without disagreeing. Kate doesn’t lose her sharp tongue simply because they are in casual conversation, but it’s different when her remarks aren’t directed at him; hearing her pert analyses of other candidates and campaign staffers actually makes him laugh.

She’s left half a piece of cold fish and polished off more than a few of his chips (completely unthinkingly, he’s sure) when they’re informed that closing time’s come and they have to clear the table. It would be completely natural for them to part ways and see each other in the morning for another round of sparring, but he finds himself saying, “I think I might go get a drink,” and finds her answering, “I think I might join you.”

He regrets it just a bit when he’s balanced on the bar stool (he really is exhausted; this is the earliest he’s been out of the office in days) but then Kate raises her wineglass and says, “To the homestretch,” and smiles just a bit as he touches his glass to hers. The light falls cozy and dim around them and he can still see exactly how long and competent her fingers are, wrapped around the stem, the places where strands of hair have escaped their pins, trailing down to rest against her exposed throat.

Right, he thinks inanely to himself. Right, excellent, this was a good choice, and belts back his scotch before signaling for another.

“Those were your siblings?” she asks, taking a sip of her own drink. “At trivia the other night?”

“Some of them were...are…” He shakes his head, trying to straighten out his own meaning. “It was some of my siblings, the oldest four, and my brother-in-law, and my sister’s best friend.” Then, before he can stop himself, he adds, “I saw your sister was there as well.”

“Hmm,” she says, taking another sip of her cabernet, and he can see her spine stiffening, armor reasserting itself.

For the first time, he realizes that she could easily hate Edie, her younger sister - her younger half-sister, even - who is sweet and accomplished and more apparently pretty, the one people’s eyes turn to when the Sheffield girls are around, but what Kate displays is no begrudging love.

It would probably be better for him to change the topic, get them back on safer ground, but though he might be smart, he’s not necessarily wise, so he tosses back his second scotch and asks, “Why did you warn me off her the first time? You didn’t even know me.”

“Yes, but I knew of you,” she says. As always, she faces the comment head on, doesn’t even pretend not to remember exactly what he’s talking about. “I was starting in the industry, I needed to have an ear to the ground and at least a general sense of the players, and I didn’t like the sense I got about you. It didn't make me think you were the kind of person to trust with my sister.”

“I’ve never—I would never—I don’t think I’ve—” he says, stumbling, slightly stricken. He knows that there are whisper networks about the people - the men - in their field, knows exactly who some of the whispers are about and has done his best to be the type of person who helps make those whispers into shouts. It would kill him a bit to find out that he’s done something that would make someone feel the need to speak about him that way.

“Not necessarily on a personal level,” she says, suddenly gentle, then circles her finger around the rim of her glass and amends, “Well, not that way. People actually said you were very smart and a good employer, but when I learned more about your history, the jobs you’d worked on in the past, it didn’t feel like there was any principle to your choices. As if you were just willing to sell yourself to whoever asked, or at least whoever looked good on a resume. Edwina deserves more than that.”

She is looking at him extremely frankly, as if she hasn’t just shrugged away the idea of the career he’s built, but with the way she says her sister’s name, the softness of it, how she somehow makes the full, old-fashioned version more personal than the nickname - he understands that sort of devotion. Hearing it from her steals the irritation beginning to build even as she continues. “I could never even entirely figure out why you went into politics rather than something else. You’re reasonably intelligent, you could have done any number of things if you weren’t particularly invested in the issues.”

Somehow, instead of the protest he was expecting, that he was intending, what comes out is simply, “It’s the family business.”

“I’m sorry?”

“The Bridgerton Group. My father started it.” By her expression, she doesn’t think that two generations exactly makes a family legacy, but for once she holds her tongue, and his, loose with drink and exhaustion, can’t hold back.

“I grew up playing under the table at a dozen campaign offices across London and having poster mock-ups as my placemats. When I was a bit older, I was allowed to volunteer, and I loved seeing him there, in his element, listening to proposals and then telling everyone, ‘Well, here’s what we’re going to do.’” He swallows. “He—My father died, just after my first year at university, and I wasn’t old or experienced enough to take his place. The staff went off to work for other people, and all I could think about was how disappointed he would have been, to see this thing he’d built, this thing he loved, fall apart so easily. The entire time until I graduated, while I was getting experience with other consulting firms and working on other campaigns, I was just waiting until I could do justice to what he left behind for me.

“He nearly called it ABC Consulting, but my mother told him that it sounded too juvenile. My parents had me and my brothers fairly young - he was still a student when Benedict and I were born - and he wanted to name it after us.”

He realizes as soon as he’s said it that he’s only ever admitted that once before, to Simon on a similarly drunken night during their final year at school, forgetting the way that Simon and his father were, or weren’t, with each other; his friend’s face had closed up as soon as the words had left Anthony’s mouth, and they’d never talked about it again. But Kate’s face is open, listening, more than he thinks he’s ever seen from her, in such a way that he thinks he could reveal anything to her.

He could tell her about the trouble he and his brothers got up to as children, or how he likes watching baking shows to relax even though he’s not worth a damn in the kitchen, or that he can’t stop himself from adding another mile to his morning run each time he finds a gray hair. He could start talking about how complicated his feelings have grown regarding the man who was once his best friend, or about the way his entire chest had burned as his mother placed a squalling Hyacinth into his nineteen-year-old hands before closing her eyes and about how he never wants either of them to know that he’d tried to force himself not to tremble and had trembled anyway. But this isn’t the time for any of that, so he continues.

“I wanted to put it back together for him. There were candidates I took on in the early days who were stepping stones, necessary to building a reputation but who I wouldn’t work with again now that I have the reputation and the choices that come with it. And I have my own opinions on the issues - some of which might match yours more closely than you’d expect - but I’m there to make sure that the candidates who hire me succeed in getting where they want to be. I’m good at that, and I’m committed to it, and I’ve never run a campaign I wasn’t proud of. Sometimes, though, being around you, I wonder if you're going to eventually talk me into a different philosophy.”

His glass is full again though he isn’t sure when that happened, and a group of middle-aged men with ties undone and suitcases beneath their eyes fumbles past the bar behind them toward a booth, but the only thing he is paying attention to is Kate’s considering gaze on him as she absently swirls the wine remaining in her glass.

“I have the feeling,” she finally says, “that when you say a different philosophy, you consider it a more naïve one. And I’m not certain that our opinions on the issues would really match up considering that you grew up with family money.” Her voice is not arch or insulting, though, and he would certainly know.

“We were...comfortable,” he admits. She raises a waspish eyebrow in response.

“No one who’s actually middle class would ever put it like that,” she informs him. “You most definitely have a trust fund.” But she actually smiles at him, and for once he knows what it’s like to have Kate Sheffield look at him with warmth in her eyes.

He’d quite like to have that again.

“Do you think—?”

“That we should dignify the remarks with a response? No, I absolutely do not.”

Anthony glares down at the article he has pulled up on his phone, then looks over at Kate, striding down the hall beside him, eating slices of peach out of a reusable container. For a moment he’s distracted from the rumormongering on behalf of one of their opposing campaigns; he thinks of Kate’s hands carefully working the knife around the fruit, of the way her tongue flicks over to catch the juice when she takes a bite…

“I could reach out,” he says, too loudly, before he walks into a wall. “I know the head of the campaign over there, I can remind him about the spirit of fair play and all that, especially this close to the finish line.”

She looks over at him incredulously, snapping the top onto her empty Tupperware. “I don’t care if you were the best man at his wedding, he’ll laugh you off the phone. I’ve had at least three listicles of our candidate’s best insults toward her opponents forwarded to me just this morning.”

“I had the feeling that wouldn’t work.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. Just three days left, for better or worse. “Fine, so we say nothing and hope that it passes out of the media cycle quickly and doesn’t do too much damage to the absentee votes.”

“As I said from the beginning.”

“You are far too determined never to let me have the last word,” he says, just the slightest bit amused, as they circle around the desks of the main office, edging their way over to hers.

She snags the toe of her ballet flat on a computer charger trailing across the floor, stumbles, but he catches her hand just in time and sets her upright again. She continues walking as if it hadn’t even happened, raising her voice enough to be heard over the chatter and buzz of phone calls as she teases, “What would be the fun in that?”

Aghast, he says, “We aren’t here to have fun, Sheffield.”

“Oh, did you actually want to win?” She tosses the empty container onto her desk as she drops into her chair, then looks up at him, swiveling slightly from side to side and shaking her head. “You really are a cliché.”

“Yeah, well, here’s another one: get to work.”

“I’m not sure that’s technically a cliché, but I suppose I could do that,” she says, with a shrug and a grin, turning toward her computer. He watches her for another few seconds, and then takes himself off to his office before he becomes too much of a cliché himself.

Despite the phone call he had earlier with his mother promising her that he wouldn’t, he falls asleep on his desk the night before the election, startling himself awake hours later.

“Too bloody old for this,” he mutters to himself, grimacing as seemingly every joint and muscle in his body quite firmly announces itself when he stands. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he gathers his things and makes his way through the darkened office.

Except it isn’t as dark as he’d expected. He scans the desks to try to figure out who left their lamp on, and finds Kate with her head resting on her arms, essentially imitating him from ten minutes prior.

Briefly, he stands there, not entirely sure what to do, but then he walks over, hand hovering by her shoulder before he gives her a light shake.

“Kate,” he says softly, crouching so he’s closer to her level. Her loose ponytail drapes over the burgundy of her blouse, quite close to his hand. He had not realized that he would recognize the scent of her, clean and straightforward with a subtly delicate edge; he should have known - he’s been smelling it in his dreams for weeks. He swallows and shakes her once more. “Kate, you should go home.”

“That was meant to be my line,” she says, far more lucidly than he would have expected. He shifts back as she stirs and sits up, massaging her fingers over her eyes. “I had the feeling that you weren’t going to leave at a sensible time, so I was planning on reminding you before I went home, only apparently I can’t leave at a sensible time either.”

“No, I suspect that sensible times to leave the office don’t involve the letters A or M,” he agrees. “Not that I would know anything about that.”

As she readies herself to leave, he tries to remember that the way she stretches out her back or takes down her hair, how she swings her bag over her shoulder, the quick, assessing way her eyes cover the room to make certain everything is in its place: all of that should be unremarkable. But there’s a moment, just the tiniest sliver of time, when she’s flicked off her desk lamp and they begin to walk out together in the glow of the emergency exit signs and the dim light of windows from other office buildings - she glances over at him, his hair rumpled, tie and briefcase dangling from one hand, and he thinks that he sees her swallow in a way that he recognizes all too well.

And then the moment is gone, and they’re out on the sidewalk, about to go their separate ways, the car he’d called for her already waiting.

“Big day tomorrow,” he says over the top of the door, holding it open as she climbs in. “Are you ready for it?”

“I’m always ready.”

He laughs, soft as the night around them. “Yes, I suppose you are. Good night, then.”

She looks at him one last time in the yellow beam of the streetlight, still a bit sleepy-eyed but no less aware for it. “Good night, Bridgerton,” she tells him, and drives away, and he can’t help but wonder about what if she hadn’t, what if he’d said something or she had made a choice, what if she didn’t drive away from him again.

The day of the election is always the worst for him - all the work behind him, nothing really to be done but let the people vote. He’s in the office earlier than usual anyway, early enough that he isn't certain it was worthwhile going home, but this, at least, he can control. He manages to keep himself busy throughout the day, but it’s all just a countdown to that night.

Somehow, despite - or perhaps because of - the sleeplessness and planning and stress, it isn’t one those contests that drag on. Dr. Danbury is brought on stage at about a quarter to one alongside the other candidates; the results, when the returning officer announces them, are decisive.

She’d brushed away his offers to help or choose a staffer or hire someone to work on her speech with her; instead she’s written it herself, and although brief, it’s as firm and irreverent as she is. He suspects that no one will ever pack as much sarcasm into referring to certain colleagues as “the right honorable.”

He makes some calls and receives congratulations from his mother and siblings, who have long since ceased to find these sorts of things interesting enough to attend but who make certain to keep up from home. As Dr. Danbury frees from handshaking and small talking, he makes his way over to her.

“Congratulations, ma’am.” He holds out his hand, which she eyes with a lifted brow.

“Anthony Bridgerton, I’ve known you since you were charming people from your mother’s arms, and considering that - not to mention all we’ve been through together over these last months - I think you can stand to give me more than just a handshake.”

He hugs her, which feels odd and tells him more than anything that the campaign is over. When he pulls away from her, she pats his cheek. “Now, go celebrate. You’ve earned it. I’m certainly going to.” And she winks.

The campaign staff is making plans for drinks and dancing and even just going home to raise a glass with loved ones. He wades into the group, patting backs and shaking hands, speaking briefly to some of them, smiling all the while.

And then he sees Kate, toward the edge of the crowd, chatting with one of the young guys from finance. Edwina is beside them, likely not as inured to the excitement of the night as the Bridgertons.

Kate, the taller of the two, spots him, leaning over to say something to her sister before weaving her way over. He tips his head toward a quieter little hallway, and they go over together, leaning against parallel walls.

“Congratulations,” they say to each other at the same time, and then immediately after, “I only wanted to say—”

He nods at her to go first. It’s only polite. But there’s an unusual sort of trepidation about her face, a pause that he doesn’t expect, that makes him wonder if she wishes that he’d taken the initiative. Still, she’s Kate, so she takes a breath and comes out with, “Edwina is here tonight, and if you still wanted—Clearly I misjudged you, and so if you were still interested in her, I wouldn’t say anything.”

“Oh,” he says, and that is all he can manage for the moment, standing frozen and watching Kate force her shoulders back and her gaze to his.

He does not know precisely how to communicate the depths to which he has realized that he does not want to date Edie Sheffield, that he never wanted to date her, that his interest lies entirely elsewhere. What he says instead is, “I had wanted to ask you to stay on with the Group. Permanently. You’re very, very good at what you do, and I think that...You know, your perspective and your clarity during the campaign was extremely helpful, extremely valuable, to me.”

He can picture it plainly, has been picturing it already: Kate taking him to task about every little issue, forcing him to remember the things outside of the campaign itself, the bigger things. Kate, with her hair swept up and her eyes bright and furious, challenging him to be the best version of himself, or at least to want to try.

But then she looks up at him and says, “I’ve actually had another job offer recently. The candidate—I’m sorry, the MP-elect wants me to be her new chief of staff, and I was already inclined to accept.”

“You’re going to be incredible at that,” he says immediately, blank shock quickly giving way to sincerity then laughter. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. Maybe I just didn’t think that Parliament was ready for it.”

“That’s probably for the best, though. Element of surprise and all.”

Her voice doesn’t trail away but as his laughter does, so does her smile, her animation; the air seems to fall thin and still. He doesn’t know that there’s ever been a beat of awkwardness between them like this, not even when they have been at their most prickly with each other, but it’s there now, in her eyes as she looks across at him, in his gut as he wonders what to say next.

“I’m glad you got another job offer,” is what comes out, and there is her unamused, interrogative eyebrow, hovering upward.

“So you weren’t serious with yours?”

“No, of course I was, it’s only that...Well, I’ve been your boss up until now, regardless of how much you might believe it should be the other way around.” That even gets him a slight returning smile, enough for him to ignore the dryness in his mouth and the franticness of his chest to say, “And if you had taken the job with me, I would have continued to be your boss. Which would have made it rather unacceptable for me to ask you out.”

In the space of that breath, with the silence heavy between them even as they stand right beside a crowded room, even as Dr. Danbury’s voice crows easily above the others, still practiced from projecting through the university lecture hall, he wonders if she is going to leave him like this, cards on the table, only the fall below him.

“Well,” she finally says, slow as anything. She is looking up at him, considering and careful, but he knows that her mind must be working at triple its already remarkable speed. “If I’m going to be around the city, and there’s no conflict of interest…”

He doesn’t entirely like the way it is turning into something neat and logical in front of him when he’s never felt anything close to that around her. He doesn’t like the way she looks tentative, pushing back against the edge of something more than caution - fear, perhaps, as if this might be a trick, as if the idea of allowing herself to crack open is unbearably terrifying, and it looks wrong on her face, so bold and familiar, he never wants to see that expression there again. He reaches out across the space, and when she reaches back, he takes her hand.

“Kate,” he says. “You are the most infuriating person I’ve ever known and possibly the smartest, you are wildly, overly principled and somehow make me want to be the same, you never let me have a moment’s peace, I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’d like to go on a date with you.”

“Well, that does sum things up nicely, Anthony,” she tells him, and despite herself, he can see a little snatch of a smile just there, the warmth growing in her eyes as they look right into him, the fear working its way from her. Still, she tries for nonchalance as she says, “My contract with the campaign doesn’t end until Friday. We can do Saturday night, if you’re up for it.”

He’s up for it. He takes her out Saturday night for dinner, hides a smile as she pokes fun at his shoes, gets into an argument with her about education funding, and goes to bed more distracted by a half hour of pressing her against her front door (and then onto her sofa for another twenty minutes) than he has any right to be considering he isn’t fourteen. He spends Sunday night with her too, and on Monday they go to see a movie they both hate but can’t stop talking about, and he is fairly certain he is going to spend essentially every night with her for the rest of his life.

It isn’t peaceful - and only likely to get busier once they both really get back to work - and her dog is a nuisance and Colin tries to take credit for the whole thing, and they’re so happy that neither of them cares.

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton fic #Anthony Bridgerton #Kate Sheffield #kathony #(is that what we're calling them?) #Kate/Anthony

[kyovtani]

ASKS

hey babies! i’ve decided to answer the asks about back to life one and two like this because ive received so so so many and you guys blew me away so answering every single one of them is the least i can do to show you guys just how grateful i am. thank you so much for giving both parts SO much love, i love and appreciate you guys and the support you’re constantly sending my way with my whole entire heart <33

BYE THE FIC IS SO GOOD SO FAR. MY ANXIETY THO FROM THE ENDING, LIKE PLS KYO REALIZE THE MCS ANXIETY PLS DONT GO OUT WITH SORA PLEASE PLEASE HE SEEN HOW SHE DIDNT LOOK OKAY WHEN HE CAME IN PLEASE REALIZE HER ANXIETY PLEASE

– THANK YOU SO SO MUCH BABY !! this was the very first ask about back to life and it’s honestly the cutest thing ever! I hc Kyoutani to be rally understanding of things like anxiety and depression, generally mental health so that’s why it was easy for him to understand the reader’s situation and mindset! 

BACK TO LIFE!!!!!!!! MY HEART!!!!!?! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SO GOOD!!!!! i was really excited when you started posting about it!! i can't wait for part 2, i wanna know how they fix this!

AAAH !! thank you so much for the love and support baby!!!! I really hope you enjoyed part 2 just as much, sending you lots of smooches MWAH

OH MY GOD THE KYO FIC IS AMAZING

THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY !!!!! 

OH MY GOD YOUR KYOUTANI FIC HAS ME ACTUALLY FROTHING I LOVE IT SM

IM NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAY THAT MY JAW ACTUALLY DROPPED AT THE LAST COUPLE PARAGRAPHS AS WELL I CANT WAIT FOR PART 2

AAAH YOU GUYS !!! this made me so happy !!! thank you so much and I hope part two met your expectations and you enjoyed the ending MWAH!! 

HOLY FUCK THAT KYOUTANI FIC WHEW IT WAS SO SO GOOD IM SO EXCITED FOR PART 2

thank you for the food <33

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT BABY !!!

YOUR KYOTANI FIC AHHHHHHH my heart can’t handle this

I AM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT BABY !!!

OW THE END ON BACK TO LIFE HURTED THOUGH GDFGHJDFHJRY

Was overwhelmed by the hurty that I forgot to say how much I ADORE your characterization of Kyoutani. fdjkhgjkgdr

THANK YOU SO MUCH !! honestly- that means the world to me, probably the best compliment you can give me :((

Back to life was so good OMG 😳😳 HELLO??? You're amazing

Thank you so much, my love! it honestly is everything to me when you guys tell me such sweet things I love you so much MWAH!!

the new fic did not help me with my insecurities now i’m just frustrated and insecure. great writing tho.

honestly- same. when I wrote this, I lit indulgent every bit of my mind working into this fic and thats why it means so much to me ?? so youre not alone, my love; but thank you so much <33

The way I panicked at the end of the fic thinking there wasn’t gonna be more to it, holy shi that fox was so good I almost cried thinking they were just gonna end things like that 🥺🥺🥺🥺

I’d NEVER end a fic like that- I hate bad endings and cannot stand cliffhangers but the formatting didn't give me another choice im sorry for the heart attack baby kfhflashsj but am glad you liked it!

@au-roraaa said: ZADE I WAS NEVER A KYO FUCKER BUT I THINK YOUVE CONVERTED ME HOLY FUCKSJFJSJDJSN

THIS IS MY JOB AT THIS POINT I WANT YOU ALL TO TURN INTO KYOU FUCKERS KSSSOH 

UR THE BEST WRITER WTF?? WHEN DO U THINK PART TWO WOULD BE UP... and does kyoutani flirt with sora 😣💔

YOU GUYS- NOOO- pls my heart made a loop :(( I love you so much :(( thank you baby and I think now you know what he does with sora MWAH

@kawakuto said: hi hi zade!🤩 (ajdjs idk if you remember me but i moved main blogs and I was @/gukooky before LOL) THE KYOUTANI FIC ANDJWNS I DIDNT EXPECT THE END WAHHHH🥺🥺 it was so well written omg I loved it!! (wtf kyoutani, you said we were going slow what if I wasn’t ready to call u my boyfriend wtffff😔😔 pain.)

AAAAH OFC I DO REMMEBER !! hope youre doing well baby !!! and thank you SO much for your sweet words, I honestly appreciate them so much :((<33

pls I’m in love with your writing. You write kyoutani so well so now I’ll always be grabbing at any crumbs you send my way 🥵

thank you so so so much baby!!!! these kinda words always hit me right at the heart, I appreciate them so much and I love you sm much

bb i love ur kyoutani fic sm :(( ur rlly so talented <33 i look forward to pt 2 ^3^

thank you so much baby, sending a smooch your way mwah 

zade that kyoutani piece im in so much pain why would u do this to me 💔💔💔💔

believe me when I say It hurt me even more than you </3

I just finished reading part 2 and it waS SO GOODAJSFHJLFG you did amazing!! (n˘v˘•)¬

THANK YOU SO MUCH BABY !!!

Hi! New nonnie coming through :) First time I'm writing something because I'm such a nervous wreck but I just had to

THE FIC WAS SO GOOD THE VIBES ARE CHEFS KISS. IT WAS SO GOOD I LITERALLY DROOLED I CAN NOT GET OVER IT !

Mister kyotani pls rail me thanks 🐱

THANK YOU AAAH YOURE SO CUTE !!! I truly appreciate this with my whole entire heart so thank you so much baby, hope you have a good one mwah

Wait did he do anything with Sora?

nope!! they just went to the party together but in my mind he didn’t even hug her and she didn’t try anything else, too, simply bc she knew how in love he is with reader!!

YOUR MINDDDDD!! THE KYOU FIC WAS SOOOO GOOOD!! Omg i hope you do a part 3 😭😭

i have a Little sequel which is really really soft but I'd love to write some more for it! 

@soranihimawari said: Part 1 & 2 with kyoutani was amazing as always Zade! I really liked the ending. This was such a fun read. I was wondering who’s else would be sharing the apartment with Kyoutani. What made you choose tattoo artist Iwa & Oikawa? Those two made me chuckle with the way they came in like that. Hope you have a great day/evening/late night/etc.

✌🏼&💜

—sora—

aaah thank you so so much, baby!! I truly appreciate your sweet words, youre the cutest! regarding your question: You shares an apartment with Iwa, Oikawa and Yahaba (who also works at the tattoo studio!) and i don't know to be really honest- I just like the thought of these three being really good friends so after contemplating whether or not to go with iwaoi or matsuhana, I ended up going with those two dorks! hope you have a good one baby mwah!!

@sakusapetals said: PLEASEE I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH

AAAH THANK YOU SO SO MUCH BABY !!! I LOVE YOU SM 

How long did it take you to write the entire two parts? Like wow that’s alot👁👄👁 i adore long fics though

oooh- hm ?? tbh i don't really know ?? I can’t remember ?? I think it took me about a month or like three weeks since I did write it all in one go yk? it was the only WIP I worked on during that time and it felt SO relieving to publish it! 

AAAHHH the kyou fic was a masterpiece bb!!! ❤️❤️

thank you so so so much baby!!<33

U LITERLALT WRIYE KYOU THE BEST ABSOLUTE BEST. he’s so aggressive and demanding but he still is willing to show someone special his vulnerability. I LOVE READING STUFF ABOUT HIM FROM U

AAAAH thank you so much- you guys have no idea how much these kinda comments mean to me- I love you so MUCH MWAH 

I just read the first part of "back to life" an it had me speechless so many times, almost cried at the end, it's honestly so well written. I'm off to read part two. Have a nice day 🐰

sdoalfsla thank you so much baby! I hope you enjoyed both parts equally as much and thank you for all the love mwah!!<3

Hana is a baddie

SHE IS!! she’s literally the baddest bitch to ever exist ft. saeko ofc but nobody acknowledges it </3

@tonhwa said: I’m in love with the way you write kyoutani pls. Even your previous fics on your old account ( if you don’t mind me mentioning it ) are so fucking amazing. GOSH YOU CHARACTERIZE HIM SO WELL AND THE PLOT IS ALWAYS SO JUICY AND INTERESTING I CANT HELP BUT GO BACK AND READ IT. and then you release this fucking wonderful piece and I feel like it’s my birthday even though it’s already passed LOL ty ily have a wonderful day I’m sobbing tears of happiness

YOU GUYS PLEASE- the fact this made me tear up when I first read it- thank you SO much honestly. knowing you guys enjoy my characterization of my favorite character is honestly everything to me so thank you sm I love you baby have a good one!!<3

I’ve been on this app from high school, and now I’m a college grad. I have to say I’ve never sent a message to anyone I’ve followed. But that tattoo artist! Kyou fic, part 1 and 2 are 😩💕 *chefs kiss* you are one of my favorite writers I’ve ever followed since joining this app. You NEVER disappoint!

-💕 a very satisfied reader

thank you so much baby!! aaah this is honestly so so sweet :(( thank you for taking the time out of your day to send me such a sweet thing, I appreciate it and you so much mwah!!

i gotta say babe THANK YOU FOR THE KYOTANI CONTENT!! muAAAAHH💞💞

NOO THANK YOU GUYS FOR GIVING IT SO MUCH LOVE MWAH!!!

i love kyoutani and he obvs deserves his dick sucked 🤧🤧 but i catch him posting up with other girls I DONT CARE THE SITUATION he gonna catch these hands for a real one 👊🏼👆🏼🤜🏼🥊🥊 kidding 😐😐😐 he’d body me

pls the way this had me chuckling like crazy bc same sajlskjpw he can get mad all he want but he better stay his pretty ass where he is- by my side  😌

#💌.zade's mass response

[tiliamericana]

Muay Thai: 1.08

The apartment seemed larger and more echoey than usual. Nairi tossed her keys onto the counter and tried not to react to the clatter. Agatha shifted to lean against her kitchen counter, looking a little uncomfortable in the sparse room.

“Do you want a drink or something?” asked Nairi, to be polite. She didn’t exactly have anything, but it was too late to take it back now.

“Uh, just water? I think I’ve had enough to drink already.” She punctuated this with a smile. A small one, but it eased the lines of her face a little and made her seem less uncomfortable.

“I can do water,” said Nairi, returning the small smile. She pulled her fridge open and grabbed one of the water bottles from the middle shelf, trying not to dwell on how little else was in there. “Do you want a glass?”

“There’s no need to get fancy,” said Agatha drily, taking the bottle. “Thank you.”

Nairi nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear and shifting towards her couch, acutely aware that her conversational skills were lacking. She shrugged her jacket off and draped it over the couch, and when she looked back Agatha’s eyes were following her movements, tracing the lines of her arms and lingering where her shirt was rucked up a little at the waist.

She hummed softly and tugged her shirt off over her head as well. “Is there anything I need to know before we hit the sack?” she asked casually.

Agatha swallowed her mouthful of water and took a moment before she answered, cheeks faintly pink. “Well, I’m not terribly experienced, if that’s likely to bother you?”

Nairi shrugged. “It shouldn’t. I meant more like; do you have any ‘don’ts’?”

Oh,” said Agatha, and she considered it for another moment before shrugging back. “I mean, like I said, I haven’t really done a lot. I guess if I say stop then—?”

“I can do that,” said Nairi, unhooking her sports bra and feeling Agatha’s gaze intensify as she dropped it on the couch with her shirt. “Don’t touch my hair, okay? And no biting.”

Agatha took another drink of water and set the bottle on the kitchen counter, nodding. “I can do that,” she echoed.

“Great,” said Nairi. She turned and walked towards her bedroom, and Agatha’s footsteps followed behind her.

Agatha was very good at listening. And even better—she didn’t once ask about the tattoos.

*

Nairi had spent what most people would likely consider an excessive amount of money on her mattress. Her first goal had been ‘big’, and with the amount ‘big’ cost in terms of mattresses, apparently ‘very comfortable’ came included. She’d slept very well since she’d moved in, especially since she’d pulled out the window and replaced it with one that didn’t open.

The sensation of sleeping as long as she needed to and waking up well-rested was both novel and extremely enjoyable, so she liked to do so as often as possible. It was just nice to wake up at her leisure and enjoy the empty space. Nothing in her system, nothing weighing on her. She had an alarm on her blackberry in case she slept too late to open the dojo, but most days it wasn’t necessary, and besides, no one was showing up for the noon timeslots anyway.

Her pillow was soft and springy, still fresh, and her eyelids were comfortably heavy and dark. There was a comfortable stillness to her state; almost all the way asleep, and then a hand touched her shoulder.

She didn’t think so much as react.

She grabbed the hand at her shoulder with one arm, locking it to her chest as she rolled, pulling out her knife with the other. She used the momentum of the roll to knock them both to the floor, straddling her presumed assailant and pinning them with a forearm to their chest, knife raised by her temple, scowl on her face.

Agatha yelped, staring up at her with wide-eyed shock and confusion, and Nairi woke up the rest of the way. “Oh my god,” she said blankly.

Agatha said something that sounded very rude in a language Nairi didn’t understand.

Her heart was racing like a hummingbird’s under the skin of her throat where Nairi hand was twisted in her shirt collar, her breaths shaky and jagged in her chest. “Sorry,” Nairi forced out after a moment, releasing the fabric in her hand with fingers that felt too stiff and standing up quickly.

Agatha pushed herself onto her elbows where she was sprawled on the floor, blinking owlishly up at Nairi as she tucked the knife back into its holster. Her eyes looked smaller without the glasses, darker, and she raised a hand to her throat, rubbing at the skin where her neckline sat. “…Do you always sleep with a knife?” she asked eventually. From the look on her face, it wasn’t what she’d meant to ask.

“Yeah,” said Nairi, almost settling into a guard stance and catching herself at the last moment, folding her arms over her chest. “Sorry, again. I should have, uh, warned you.”

“Right,” said Agatha, slowly pushing herself up off the floor and rubbing at her wrist where Nairi had grabbed her. “Guess I’ll know for next time.”

She’d only muttered it, and from the faint reddening of her cheeks, Nairi guessed she hadn’t meant to say that either.

“Yeah,” she said, glancing down to tug uselessly on her shirt for moment in the hope that Agatha might think she hadn’t noticed. Linden had a way of making dumb jokes that pulled all the awkwardness out of a conversation, but Nairi wasn’t particularly good at it. She tried anyway. “You’ll just have to like, throw something at me instead.”

It worked, somehow, and Agatha snorted, brushing her hands off on her hips as she looked back at Nairi. “Something heavy, to give me an advantage, I think.” She had a wry little smile and her eyes seemed a little more amused, the hem of her borrowed shirt shifting along the top of her thighs as she brushed her hair out of her face. “Can you pass me my glasses?”

They got dressed quietly across from each other, Nairi turning her back reflexively. It was early for her—not even nine o’clock—but the adrenaline from her wake up had cleared most of the fog of sleep from her system. Her mind was a little sharper, a little less disquiet. Agatha was buttoning her shirt from the night before, tugging it a little to frown at a wrinkle, and Nairi watched her for a second. “Do you want a cup of tea or something?”

Agatha glanced up at her as she buttoned her jeans. “I’m more of a coffee person,” she said, almost apologetic about it. “I was actually thinking about breakfast, though?”

She really had to do something about that empty fridge of hers. “I don’t have coffee in the house yet,” said Nairi, echoing the apologetic tone and trying to sidestep the inevitable question about why she didn’t even have a box of cereal in her cupboard. “Do you want to eat out?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Agatha smiling at her. “What did you have in mind?”

The vegan café down the street flashed in front of Nairi’s mind with no other suggestions, and she shrugged. “No idea, actually.”

Between the two of them, they managed to end up in McDonald’s with matching egg breakfast muffins. Agatha inspected hers carefully for the absence of bacon before she bit into it, and Nairi belatedly glanced down at hers as she chewed. Hers also had no bacon; she was fine.

Agatha was watching her over her large coffee, her eyelids lowered like she was trying to be discreet about it. “You know,” she said eventually, shifting a little in the hard, plastic seat. “People keep telling me how good fast food is when you’re hungover. I don’t think I believe them.”

Nairi chewed her rubbery puck of egg thoughtfully and shrugged. “Most of the people I used to know with dealt with hangovers by drinking more and complaining about it.”

Agatha laughed. “Ah. Linden’s people.” It wasn’t really said in a kind tone.

“I honestly thought Linden was on team junk food,” said Nairi, thinking of the litany of text messages she woken up to the previous week extolling the virtues of chicken nuggets. It had gone on for eight or nine messages before Linden abruptly remembered that Nairi was vegetarian and had sent five more texts that were just series of punctuation around colons and parentheses that somehow managed to look repentant.

“No, no, she definitely is,” said Agatha quickly, nodding. “I just meant—I don’t know, the kind of people she’d hang around.”

Was Agatha not the kind of person Linden hung around? She seemed to have multiple grad student friends who weren’t Agatha, after all. “How did you guys end up becoming friends?” she asked.

“Oh, my boyfriend cheated on me with her,” said Agatha very casually, sipping at her coffee.

“Oh,” said Nairi, and she could almost physically see the red flags lining the conversational path in front of her. She should ask something else; ask about literally anything else. “So, you both like drinking coffee though?”

Wow.

Agatha seemed to find this very funny if the curl in her lip was any indication. “One of the other things we have in common, yes.”

“I just, Linden doesn’t drink tea either, and,” said Nairi, well aware she was fumbling the conversation and deciding to settle for just explaining herself. “And if I’m going to be having coffee-drinking company over more regularly, then I don’t want to be, uh, a bad host. So, um, what kind of coffee do you like?”

Agatha brightened considerably at the question, which Nairi figured meant she hadn’t completely bombed the conversation. “Definitely not this,” she joked, holding up her cup, and Nairi smiled back at her, relieved.

Her free hand crept across the table and slipped under Nairi’s, and Agatha finished her breakfast with a small smile on her face.

Nairi tried to ignore it. Physical contact, it was supposed to be good, especially the non-violent kind. Falling asleep with Agatha’s bare thighs pressed up against her had definitely felt good, in a way that wasn’t even sexy, particularly, but this—she couldn’t quite figure it out. She just… didn’t really want people touching her.

She rubbed her thumb over the back of Agatha’s hand and ate her deep fried hashbrown, ignoring the unease building in the pit of her stomach.

Her cell chirped in her pocket and she dug it out, Linden’s name on the caller ID. “Hi,” she said, glancing at Agatha across the table before looking around the room.

“Hey!” said Linden, sounding strangely cheerful. “Did you have a good night? Got Aggy off okay?”

“Yeah,” said Nairi, wondering if she was imagining the innuendo in the words. “We’re just grabbing breakfast.”

“Real-ly?” asked Linden, her tone hitting a strange pitch on the second syllable as though Nairi had just told her the most interesting thing in the world. “What, did she grab a crowbar and pry you out of bed?”

“No, we were just hungry,” said Nairi, ignoring the dig at her sleeping habits. “You’re not too hungover?”

“Well, I took a piss when I woke up and got drunk again off the vapours,” said Linden promptly, “But I’ll be fine once I sober up. Tell Aggy to charge her phone—talk to you later!”

She hung up before Nairi could response, and she pocketed her cell, looking back up at Agatha.

“Anything urgent?” asked Agatha, retrieving her hand to crush up their food wrappers and set them on the tray.

“Just Linden checking in,” said Nairi, leaning back to let Agatha stretch over and grab her trash. “She said something about you needing to charge your cell?”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “Oh yes, I forgot that the world ends when I don’t have my phone on to answer texts for a whole hour after I wake up. Do you want to go find some good coffee for your kitchen?”

“Yeah, sure,” said Nairi, standing up. “Do you have the time for it?”

Agatha smiled at her. “Yes.”

#series honey tree #book muay thai #lgbt fiction #108 #serial fiction

[dlwritings]

Firecracker Soul | Dean Winchester

Chapter 13 - Unwrapped

pairing - mob!Dean x teacher!ofc

word count - 5,636

warnings - language, descriptions of physical abuse, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex (don’t be silly, protect your willy), fingering, daddy kink

additional notes at the end

(previous)

The only time Alice's parents could do dinner was the following Friday. She was excited but also inexplicably nervous. Her dads were great and she loved them both, and she knew her dad had said he had calmed Mark down enough when it came to the age difference, but what if that changed when they met him? They could be very opinionated, and Dad definitely didn't keep those opinions to himself.

So, she did the only thing a girlfriend could do. She prepped Dean.

"Okay," she said. "Call them both Mr. Berkley when you meet them, but Mark will likely tell you to use his first name from then on. Dad'll take a minute longer to warm up, but he'll get there too. Talk about your car. Anything about cars. They'll love that. And your music. You can bond over your music, because I know they listen to the same kind of stuff. Just, try not to age yourself."

"Oh?" Dean said with a laugh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means-" She hesitated. "-they know you're older than me, but, I don't know. Just try not to make it obvious."

"How would I make it obvious?" he asked, amused.

"Ugh, I don't know," she groaned. "I'm just stressed out. I haven't brought a guy to them since-" She cut herself off. "It's been a long time." Dean smiled and kissed her cheek. They were sitting on the couch in her apartment, killing some time before they needed to head over for dinner. She had already packed a bag so they could go to Dean's afterward. Anytime she had the chance to sleep there, she would take it. His bed was like sleeping on a cloud, plus she loved making breakfast at his place. His kitchen was so much bigger and nicer than hers.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Not obvious. I can do that." He paused, making an expression like he was considering something. "So I take it they don't know you call me daddy?" She raised her eyebrows as he pulled her onto his lap, holding her hips tightly.

"You think you're pretty funny, don't you?" she said.

"Actually, I think I'm hilarious."

"Yeah, well, try that joke on my dads," she said. "I think they'd both kill you."

"Mm, I'd like to see them try."

"Ha. So would I."

Dean licked his lips and eyed her outfit. She kept her hands on his shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "You know," he said, "what you're wearing is pretty unfair."

"Oh?" she said. "Why's that?"

"Well," he said slowly, "if it was a skirt-" He started kissing her neck, and she sighed and tilted her head to the side. "-I'd be able to finger fuck you under the table at dinner." He chuckled. "I can just see you, gripping the kitchen table so tight your knuckles would turn white. You'd be biting your lip, praying neither of them would ask why your cheeks were so red. Why you weren't eating. Why you looked so flustered." Alice swallowed thickly and started rolling her hips against his.

"Dean," she whined.

"But I can't," he said with a dramatic sigh, "because you're wearing this little number." He tugged at the sleeve of her jumpsuit. "And what really sucks is we don't have time for me to take care of you now. Look at the time." She forced her eyes open and looked at the clock. He was right. If they didn't leave right then, they'd be late.

"I, I don't care," she stuttered out. "They can wait."

Dean chuckled. "See, you want me to make you cum, and usually, I would be all for it, but then what am I supposed to do when I wind up hard as a rock before dinner with your dads?" She sighed and buried her face in his neck.

"You really suck," she whispered. "Did you know that? Did you know you're the worst?" He chuckled and squeezed her ass, then gave it a playful swat. She took a sharp breath and rolled her hips against his. She felt her heart drop to her stomach, and Dean tentatively moved a hand to her ass again, squeezing it gently.

"Did you like that?" he asked. She let out a shaky breath and nodded. "Oh, fuck Alice," he groaned. "Alright. We gotta go before I do something I can't take back." She whined and wouldn't remove herself from his lap.

"No," she said. "Don't want to." Dean's jaw clenched, her disobedience stirring something inside him.

"Sweetheart," he said. "I'm not asking. Off." She sighed and hopped off his lap, sitting back on the couch with her arms folded across her chest. Dean stood up and looked at her, his jaw still set. "Let's go," he said. "Now."

She huffed. "You're no fun." He leaned forward, bracing his hands on either side of her head, and barely ghosting his lips over hers.

"If you keep acting like a brat," he said, "I'll have to spank that pout away, you understand?" She pressed her thighs together, and he placed a peck to her lips and pulled away, standing up straight and holding his hand out for her to take. His tense expression had vanished and was replaced with an arrogant smirk.

God, he was good. They hadn't even had sex yet and he was already threatening a kinky punishment. And the threat worked.

Alice's dads met Dean and Alice at the front door. She completely abandoned Dean in the car and ran up to them, wrapping her arms around them both in a hug. "Oh, you're gonna break your old man," Aaron laughed. She just smiled and kissed him on the cheek, then did the same for Mark. She looked at both of them, focusing more on Aaron.

"Be nice," she said.

"I'm always nice," Aaron said. Mark just chuckled and folded his arms across his chest as Dean approached them.

"Dad, Mark," she said, putting her arm around Dean's waist, "this is my boyfriend, Dean." Dean reached out to shake both men's hands, Aaron's first and then Mark's.

"Mr. Berkley," Dean said, "Mr. Berkley."

"Call me Mark," the man said, just as Alice expected he would. Aaron, on the other hand, just gave Dean a smile. "It's nice to meet you," he said.

"You as well," Dean said, looking at both Aaron and Mark. Alice let out a nervous chuckle.

"Alright," she said. "Let's go inside. What's for dinner?"

"I thought I'd grill some burgers," Aaron said. "You can help Mark make some of his fries. I made potato salad earlier."

"You're going all out," she teased.

"Well, we have a guest," Aaron teased back. "We can't just serve frozen pizza."

"Careful," she said back. "At his family dinners, he serves Chinese takeout."

Dean scoffed. "It was one time!"

While she and Mark worked on cutting the potatoes and making his homemade fries, Dean stood outside with Aaron around the grill, drinking beer and chatting. "He's handsome," Mark said, his tone light and teasing. She giggled and bumped her hip with his.

"I told you," she said. "And I swear, he's so sweet. You'll really like him."

"If he makes you this happy, I already like him."

Alice scoffed. "And Dad?"

Mark chuckled. "Give him an hour and one conversation about that car you drove in, and he'll be good."

Outside, Dean and Aaron were talking. They had, in fact, already discussed the beauty that was the Impala, and after a lull in the conversation, Aaron said, "You should hear the way she talks about you. I can tell she really likes you." Dean looked inside through the window at Alice and Mark and couldn't help but smile. They were peeling potatoes and laughing with each other. Alice caught his eye through the glass and gave him a smile.

"I like her too," he said, looking back at Aaron. "A lot." Aaron nodded and took another sip of his beer.

"You two are at different stages in your lives," Aaron said. "You have almost twenty years on her, right?"

"Yes sir," Dean said. Quickly, he added, "But the age difference doesn't bother either of us." Aaron chuckled which made Dean look at him. He closed the lid of the grill and turned to face Dean.

"Has Alice told you much about her mom?" he asked.

Dean shook his head no. "She told me she never met her. She died giving birth. She was about her age when she had her."

"Mhm," Aaron hummed. "And I'm 61. How's your math?" It was a rhetorical question. "I was just a couple years younger than you."

"I had no idea," Dean said. "Alice never told me."

Aaron just smiled. "I know what it's like to fall in love with someone and have everyone think they're too young for you. You're convinced they're wrong because you have your rose colored glasses on. Everything seems perfect, and everyone who disagrees just doesn't understand, right?"

"All due respect," he said, "we're not naive, sir. Things may feel perfect now, but we know that's not forever. But whatever happens, whatever comes, we'll handle it. This isn't just an adventure for me. I care about her." Aaron gave a small smile and folded his arms across his chest.

"Alice is a lot like her mom," he said. "She loves very easily, and she cares with everything in her. But she's got that-" He chuckled. "-I always called it a firecracker soul. There's a lot of spunk behind how shy she seems, and it comes out so suddenly, you never see it coming. She's a lot stronger than she looks, and she'll stand up for the people she loves. But-" He hesitated. "What has she told you about her ex-boyfriend?"

Dean shrugged. "Not much. He didn't want her to go to grad school. That's it."

Aaron sighed. "He wasn't a good guy, but he was one of those people she fought for because she loved him, and it bit her in the ass." The memory clearly didn't sit right with Aaron, because he hung his head, cleared his throat, and looked up at Dean again. "If I ever find out that you hurt her in any way, you won't live to see another day, do you understand me?"

Dean knew Aaron was playing the protective father, and even though he could kill Aaron much faster than the other way around, he respected him. "Yes sir," Dean said. Aaron stuck out his hand to Dean, and he took it and gave it a firm shake.

Dinner was so much better than Alice thought it was going to be. They laughed throughout the entire meal, and Alice could tell Aaron and Mark both genuinely liked Dean. He was saying all the right things, and it made her wonder how many girls' parents he had met before. Still, she decided not to dwell. Things were going well, and there was no need for her to think about that mysterious Lisa girl again.

Dean kept his hand on Alice's thigh all night, rubbing circles over the fabric, and it made her mind wander. She had made a decision earlier in the day, and his touch wasn't helping her calm her nerves over it. She was desperate to leave, to get back to his apartment. When Dean's hand slid so far up her thigh that she couldn't handle it any longer, she cleared her throat and stood up from the table. "Well," she said, "this has been so fun, but I think it's time to head out." Aaron and Mark nodded and walked the pair to the front door. Alice hugged both of them, and Dean shook each of their hands.

"Mr. Berkley, Mark," he said, "it was great to meet you both."

"You too," Aaron said. "And call me Aaron."

When they were a sufficient distance away from her parents' house, Alice leaned over and pressed a kiss to Dean's cheek. He chuckled and looked at her, and she slid over on the bench seat so she could lean her head on his shoulder as he drove. "What's that for, sweetheart?" he asked. She smiled.

"I'm just really glad that all went well," she said. He kissed the top of her head before looking back at the road.

"Me too."

They got to Dean's house not too long after, said hello to Derek, and headed up to the penthouse. "You want some wine?" he asked. She nodded and plopped on the couch in the living room while she waited. He came over and handed her the glass, which she took with a quiet thank you and sipped from right away. Dean sat next to her, and she half expected him to turn on the TV. Instead, he turned slightly and rested his arm on the back of the couch.

"I was talking to your dad," he said, "and he mentioned your ex." Alice tensed immediately and took another sip of her wine. This was not a way to get in the mood. "What was his name?" Dean asked.

She cleared her throat and looked down at her glass. "Greg." Dean nodded and put his own glass down.

"How often did he hit you?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes, feeling her cheeks heat up. "What are you talking about?" she asked, acting completely clueless.

"You flinch when I raise my voice and sometimes even when I touch you," he said, "and you apologize for everything. It's not hard to put the pieces together. I know you say he wasn't supportive of you going to grad school, but your dad made it seem like it was more than that. Like I said, I can see it in the way you act." She couldn't tell if he was annoyed that she wasn't answering him or pitying her for ever having been in that situation. She didn't like it either way. Still, she sighed.

"Whenever he was mad, I guess," she said. "He told me he had depression, and if he was having a really bad spiral, everything made him angry. Honestly, I think that was just his excuse. It all got worse the longer we were together. It was like he was mad more than he was happy." She didn't realize she was shaking until Dean reached out and held her hand. "It shouldn't be a big deal," she said. "It was a long time ago."

"How long ago?" Dean asked. She clenched her jaw and hung her head.

"Just under two months," she said. "That's why I moved here. I was with him in New York, but it got too bad, so I ran. I moved here in August, a month before school started."

"How bad was it?" Dean asked.

She cleared her throat awkwardly. "I was admitted to the hospital a few times," she said. "Just for concussions and stuff. He tried not to do anything where people might see."

"Is that where-" He hesitated.

"What?" she asked.

"Your scar," he said. "The one I saw the other day. Did he give that to you?" She swallowed thickly, then nodded.

"He was mad," she said. "It was when I first told him I wanted to apply for grad school, and he told me it was a waste of time. I got upset, and I told him that he needed to let me live my own life. I guess-" She laughed sadly. "-that was the wrong thing to say, because he pushed me against the wall. He started choking me, but I kicked him in the crotch. I tried to run, but he got his hands on me and threw me against a table. The corner hit me in the side. He didn't want to deal with the aftermath, so he left me there. I had to call 911."

"You didn't press charges?"

"No," she scoffed. "I never even thought about it."

"Why?"

She clenched her jaw and shook her head, then looked down at her hands. "You don't know what it's like," she whispered, "to be a victim like that. I just kept finding excuses for it or brushing it off as my own fault. I thought he would get better, and every time he said he was sorry. It was so much easier to believe him than question it everyday."

When Alice was quiet for a few minutes, Dean rubbed her rib where he knew the scar was under her jumpsuit, and she instinctively jumped. "Sorry," she whispered.

"Don't be," Dean said. "You've got nothing to be sorry for." She felt her lower lip quiver, and tears were quickly forming in her eyes.

"I hate how weak he made me feel," she admitted. "Most of the time, I would just, I would just lay on the ground and let him hurt me. After a while I didn't even fight him." A few tears escaped her eyes, and Dean brushed them away with his thumbs.

"It's okay," he said gently. He held her close to him and placed a kiss to the top of her head. "I would never, ever hurt you. I would never lay a hand on you in any way without your consent, okay?" She nodded and closed her eyes, relaxing in his comforting embrace. Dean made her feel safe. She didn't care if the world saw him as a dangerous mob boss. With her, he was gentle and sweet. With her, he was just Dean. She knew he would never hurt her.

Alice looked up at him and put her hand on the back of his head, pushing her lips to his. Dean was startled for a moment but quickly put his hands on her waist. She adjusted herself so she was straddling his waist, and she lightly bit his bottom lip to deepen the kiss. When Dean felt her reach for the hem of his t-shirt, he pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed to hers. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low. She closed her eyes and swallowed nervously.

"I want you, Dean," she said. Dean licked his lips and took a deep breath through his nose.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "I want you to be sure."

"I am sure," she said. She lightly ground her hips against his, and he growled and gripped them tighter. "Please, Dean." He nodded and pressed his lips to hers, easing his tongue into her mouth. She whimpered and kissed him harder, feeling desperation for him build in her stomach. She wanted this. She wanted him.

"Okay, sweetheart," he said, pulling his lips away. She whined and tried to kiss him again which only made him chuckle. "Okay, okay, easy. Let's go to the bedroom, okay?" She nodded, so the two of them stood up and walked over to the bedroom, Dean holding her hand the whole way. He could tell she was nervous, and he wanted to put her at as much ease as he could. His thumb was rubbing her hand, and he gave it a squeeze as soon as they crossed into the bedroom.

He laid her onto the bed and crawled on top of her, kissing her gently. She threaded her fingers in his hair, and Dean had both hands pressed against the mattress on either side of her head. Even the way Alice was kissing him back made it clear she was nervous. He pulled away. "We don't have-"

"I know," she said, cutting him off. "I told you. I want to. I'm so sure. I'm just-" She hesitated. "I'm just a little nervous."

"It's okay," he said, kissing her neck. "I promise I'll be gentle. And if you at any point change your mind and want to stop, you tell me and we can stop." She nodded, and Dean kissed her lips again. He pulled away to look at her, and when she gave him a nod, he worked to pull her jumpsuit off her body. Her bra was baby pink and lacy, and it made Dean's mouth water, and her panties matched. They were satin and lace and had a pink bow on the front. He smiled and left an open-mouthed kiss over her underwear, right where a wet patch was already forming.

"All wrapped up with a pretty little bow," Dean muttered, his lips tickling her. "Can I unwrap now?"

"Yes," she breathed out. "Please."

"Good girl," he hummed. "Using your manners." She nodded and lifted her hips so he could easily slide her underwear off. "Take your bra off for me, sweetheart," he said. She did as he said and tossed it aside. He smiled up at her and kissed each of her thighs. She whined again, and Dean chuckled before slowly dipping his tongue past her folds. She breathed out -almost in relief- and tugged her fingers through his hair. He growled when she tugged particularly roughly, and he pressed his face closer to her, scratching her thighs with his beard. His licks were slow, each one adding more pressure than the last. She felt his thumbs spread her lips apart as if trying to give himself more access to go even deeper. When his tongue started circling her clit, he pushed a finger inside her, wiggling it a bit before soon adding a second.

"Hm," she hummed. "Daddy, please."

"Please what?" he asked, giving her clit another flick with his tongue.

"Just," she sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.

"I want to hear you say it," he whispered. "What do you want daddy to do, sweetheart?"

She sighed and kept her eyes shut, putting her hands over her face. Dean kept his fingers inside her but scooted up so his lips were next to her ear. "It's okay," he whispered. "Why don't you just tell me this: Do you want daddy to fuck you? To fill you up with his cock? Is that what you want?" She sighed and moved her hands, putting one of them on his head so she could tug at his hair.

"Yes," she whispered. "Yes. That's what I want. Please." Dean chuckled and placed a quick kiss to her cheek.

"Okay," he said. "We'll work on you using your words another time." She nodded, and he peppered kisses down her body again, keeping his fingers moving inside her. He finally pulled them out of her and brought them up to his lips, sucking them clean. He tugged his shirt over his head while she pressed her thighs together to try and sooth the aching a bit. Dean tutted and pulled her legs apart. "Want you to keep them open for me," he said, leaning down to kiss her lips. "I'm gonna go get a condom, okay?"

"Wait," she said, grabbing his arm before he could go away. "I- I'm actually on the pill." Dean raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side. She blushed and licked her lips. "It helps regulate my period," she said with a shrug. He then licked his lips and hung his head a bit. "I mean, you can still get a condom if you want," she said. "I just didn't know if-" Dean cut her off by pressing his lips to hers. She was shocked, and he pulled back and sighed.

"It's up to you, sweetheart," he said. "I'm clean and I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you are too." She bit her lip, and Dean stroked her cheek.

God, it would feel so good to fuck her raw.

Alice nodded and put her hand over his. "Okay," she said. "It's okay. Don't use one."

Dean closed his eyes and mouthed, "Fuck," before leaning down to press his lips to hers again. He pulled away and tugged his jeans and boxers off at the same time.

Dean lifted her chin and made her meet his eyes. She hadn't even realized she had been staring. He kissed her -more softly than he had all night- and pushed her legs apart a little more. "Remember," he said, muttering against her lips, "you say the word, and we stop."

"I know," she said. She wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, threading her fingers in his hair. Dean nodded, pressed his lips against hers, and slowly slid inside her. She moaned against his lips and squeezed her eyes shut. She tilted her head back and broke the kiss, letting out a whimper.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. She didn't say anything, too focused on catching her breath. "Hey, hey," Dean said, turning her cheek so she was looking at him. "Are you okay?" he repeated.

"Yeah," she breathed out.

"What do you want?" he asked. She swallowed thickly.

"Keep going," she said. "Just slow." Dean nodded and pressed his face into the crook of her neck, kissing her softly as he pushed deeper into her. Her grip in his hair tightened, and her other hand was digging its nails into the skin of his back. He moaned against her skin and placed another kiss to her neck. She was squeezing him tighter than he had ever experienced before.

"Jesus Christ," he muttered.

"What?" she whispered. "Is, is it okay?"

"Fuck, baby," Dean said. "You feel so fucking good. You just let me know what you need."

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I-" She cut herself off with a heavy sigh. "I feel full." The words made Dean's cock twitch inside her. "Do you want to move?"

"Oh, I want to do a lot of things, sweetheart," Dean said. "But you tell me what you want."

"I, I think I want you to move," she whispered. "Just slow."

"I can do that," he said. He pulled his hips back slowly before pushing them forward again. She whimpered but nodded her head, silently letting Dean know everything was okay. He continued to move, thrusting in and out of her and attempting not to lose control. She felt so good, and it was taking everything in his power not to pound her into the mattress. Her eyes were still squeezed shut, so he knew she was still experiencing some discomfort. He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked them, then reached between their bodies and started rubbing her clit.

"Oh," she breathed out, her eyes suddenly fluttering open. He looked at her, licking his lips, before leaning down to kiss her. She kissed him back weakly, her mind too focused on all the different feelings she was experiencing. Dean twitched again inside her, and he could tell he was getting close. As badly as he wanted to hold out a little longer, she was so fucking tight, he knew he wouldn't last.

"How're you doing, baby?" he asked, thrusting into her a little deeper. She moaned, though it didn't sound as laced in slight pain as it had earlier.

"'M fine," she muttered.

"Fine ain't good enough for me," he said. "What can I do for ya?"

"I don't know," she whispered. Dean could hear the desperation in her voice, and a bit of his heart broke. He couldn't imagine not knowing what made his body feel good and what didn't. He tried to think of a position that might open her up more, so he brought both of her knees to her chest. She moaned and arched her back, her eyes squeezing shut. He was able to reach even deeper inside her, and something about the new position made a lot of the pain go away. He started rubbing quicker circles on her clit, hoping the pressure there would ease any discomfort she was feeling anywhere else. He felt her body relax a bit more, and she moaned softly in his ear.

"Baby," Dean said, "You're gonna cum before me, you understand?"

"Dean," she moaned, her breath getting caught in her throat. Tears were coming to her eyes. She was right there. She could feel the pressure building in her lower stomach, and Dean was sure no woman had ever squeezed his cock like this.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" he muttered. She nodded, and he started pounding into her harder, his balls slapping against her skin with every thrust. She cried out and dug her nails into his back, scratching marks all across his skin.

"Oh my god," she cried. "Dean."

"Can daddy cum inside you?" he asked, his face buried in her neck. She nodded, her breaths coming out short. "Go ahead, sweetheart," he said through a moan. "Cum for me."

She squeezed her eyes shut and cried out his name again as she came, sure she drew blood on his upper back with her nails. Dean came at the same time, shooting his load inside her. She whimpered and pulled Dean so close to her, he was practically laying on top of her. He whispered sweet nothings in her ear as she caught her breath. When he pulled out of her, she shuddered at the feeling of his cum leaking out of her. Dean bit back a moan at the sight. He brushed some of her hair away from her face. "Need you to use the bathroom," he told her. "When you're done, I'll run us a bath, okay?"

She nodded and went to the bathroom to relieve herself. When she washed her hands, she stared at herself in the mirror. Her skin was flushed, and Dean had left little love bites across her neck and chest. She bit her lip and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Dean knocked. "Mm?" she hummed back. Dean opened the door and smiled at her.

"Ready for that bath?" he asked. She nodded and wrapped her arms around herself. He placed a kiss to her forehead as he passed her to fill up the bathtub. She leaned her back against the counter and kept her arms folded across herself as she waited for the bathtub to fill. Dean found a bath bomb Jess had gotten him once and added it to the tub.

When the bath was finally ready, Alice stepped in, sinking down into the water with a content sigh. Dean got in the tub behind her, settling his legs around her body. She leaned back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around her. "You feeling okay?" he asked. "Did I hurt you?"

"No," she said. "I'm okay. I feel-" She hesitated, trying to collect her thoughts. "-weird I guess. Not bad. Just weird." Dean nuzzled his face against her neck and kissed her. "But it was good," she assured him, reaching her hand behind her and tangling her hand in his hair. She lifted his head so she could kiss his lips, and he smiled and kissed her back.

"First times can be weird," he told her when he pulled away. "Next time'll be better. Promise. We can try new positions that might help." She nodded and relaxed against his chest again. He grabbed her loofa and washed her arms, legs, and tummy. When he put the loofa down, he let his hand trail down her torso and to her thighs. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she felt a pulse between her legs. Dean buried his face in the crook of her neck and kissed her skin. "Can I make you cum again, sweetheart?" he asked. "Do you want that?" She nodded and let her hand rest on the back of his neck again. She could feel Dean smile against her skin as he slid one of his fingers inside her. She sighed and gripped his hair tighter, and he didn't waste any time before he added another. Considering his cock had been in her not very long ago, she took his fingers with ease. She threw her head back against his shoulder and whimpered.

"Dean," she breathed out. He hummed and started rubbing his thumb against her clit. He knew she wouldn't last long, still pretty wound up from earlier. He used his other hand to squeeze her breast and tweak her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She let out short but heavy breaths, and her eyes were squeezed shut. He was surprised when she put her hand over his that was on her pussy and pushed his hand, encouraging him to move his fingers deeper inside her and his thumb faster against her clit.

"You want to help daddy?" he whispered. "You gonna help daddy make you cum?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Need you to go faster."

"Good girl," he said. He moved his thumb in faster circles and his fingers thrust a little deeper.

She moaned out his name and another breathy, "Yes," before she came around his fingers.

"Good girl," Dean said again, his breath tickling her ear. "Just like that, sweetheart." He helped her ride out her orgasm, and her jaw dropped in a silent moan. Dean captured her lips in a kiss, sliding his tongue in her mouth. She whined against his lips when he pulled his fingers out of her, and she could feel him smile.

They soaked in silence in the tub until Dean noticed the water went cold. "Come on, sweetheart," he whispered in her ear. "Let's get to bed."

"Hmm?" she hummed. Dean looked down at Alice and chuckled, realizing he had just woken her up. He kissed her cheek, getting out of the tub and wrapping a towel around his waist. She sat up a bit, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Dean grabbed another towel and helped her out of the tub, wrapping the plush fabric around her. He gave her a clean pair of boxers to wear and his Led Zeppelin shirt, and she mumbled something about needing to keep her own clothes there.

And he liked the idea of that.

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A/N - this gif gave me heart palpitations | psa that you shouldn’t assume someone is clean just because they’re a virgin

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BtT Light Novel Club Chapter 12: Didn’t I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?! Vol. 1

Here it is! The Light Novel Club discussion featuring the longest and silliest title yet is upon us, and TWWK and JeskaiAngel have joined me in discussing this isekai title. With an anime adaptation coming this fall, now is the perfect time to take a look at what awaits us in FUNA’s not-so-average journey into another world!

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In general, what did you think of the novel?

JeskaiAngel: It was hilarious. I wasn’t sure what to expect, since the beginning is kind of dark (the girl dies, reincarnates, then loses her mom and is mistreated), but once I got past that opening stage, it was one of the funniest light novels I’ve read.

TWWK: I really enjoyed it! At first, it felt like a bit of a mess to me—I wasn’t sure where it was going, and it didn’t seem the author did either. But my assessment was wrong. By the end of volume one, a really nice story has formed, and the volume really felt to me like the origin story of a hero. Really good stuff.

stardf29: Yeah, I definitely enjoyed the novel for a lot of reasons. I liked that we had a girl as a protagonist, with the focus more on her female friends than on any sort of romance. I also liked how, despite all her overpoweredness, she tries to pass herself off as “normal,” but doesn’t really do a good job of it.

What do you think of the protagonist? What about the other characters? Any favorites?

JeskaiAngel: Adele / Mile was great. The fact that she (as a Japanese high school grad) dies saving a child’s life instantly sets her up to be likeable, and she builds on that by being a consistently kind person once reincarnated. That she repeatedly shows compassion to others (even when it risks showing she’s not “normal”) speaks well of her. Her desire to be “average” is a source of levity, but as one realizes that it stems simply from wanting friends, it also makes her even more sympathetic. I appreciated how the author integrated Mile’s physical age with her slightly older mental age. Her behavior really felt like what I’d expect from a person who was a blend of 10 and 18; she wasn’t just an 18-year-old in a child’s body. Sometimes she showed a sense responsibility or cunning that clearly came from her older self and would have made little sense for her physical age. Other times, she displayed all the naivete or impulsiveness I’d expect from her younger self. The two sides came together in a way that made sense to me, yet also made her delightfully dynamic and unpredictable.

TWWK: Jeskai said it best! And to respond to his question, I hadn’t thought of that, but I bet the author did. I really loved how the volume return again and again to the idea of being “average,” and I absolutely loved how that was interpreted in this framework. A really humorous touch!

I enjoyed many of the other characters, and Veil especially. I always enjoy that type of character, and honorable and earnest one that’s easy to root for (and with whom I can ship the MC!). Reina was also fun—balanced enough (meaning she wasn’t too tsundere) that I could see her actually being a good friend and supporter instead of just all huff and puff.

stardf29: Jeskai hit on a lot of what makes Mile such a great protagonist. I especially like the point about how she has aspects of both her older mental age and her younger physical age, as there’s definitely a lot of fun in her “younger” actions that doesn’t always think through her actions. I also like how she wants to help the others around her, teaching her some of the secrets to her powers, while trying to not make them too dependent on her or make them too overpowered like herself. As for the other characters, they definitely have their charm, especially the other girls Mile groups with in the hunter’s school. Considering that they looked to be the main girls that Mile will be traveling with, I was definitely looking forward to seeing more of them.

Bonus question: What are your thoughts on how the story makes Adele/Mile “average”?:

stardf29: As someone who likes math stuff, I had a very good laugh about how “average” got interpreted here. The “midrange” is what’s largely used here (the midpoint between the lowest and highest values), which is a bad choice when there are major outliers in the data… and that’s exactly what we have here.

JeskaiAngel: Did anyone else wonder if losing her mom and getting an evil stepmother part of being “average?” Like it’s “average” for a fairy tale heroine to have an evil stepmother?

stardf29: Heh, that’s an interesting take on being “average”. I think it’s more just that in being born to a noble family she was more likely to end up in that sort of situation to begin with but who knows what that god was thinking…

My favorite use of “average” though was how Adele/Mile was attractive to all the boys because of how her face is a composite average of all people’s facial features; that was something I actually did learn in psychology class, and to think it would come up in this way was too good.

What do you think of the novel’s shift from Adele’s life at a noble academy to Mile’s life as a hunter?

JeskaiAngel: It was a little surprising to me that after developing the academy setting and a cast of characters connected it, the story set it all aside. However, it created a good opportunity to observe Mile’s growth. With each new situation where Mile got to reboot her identity — noble academy, solo hunter, hunting school — she seemed to become a little more skillful about not exposing her abnormality too much.

Tangentially related to the shift from noble academy to hunting: I thought it was really neat how what got Adele in trouble and resulted in her flight was attempting to save a child in the street — it’s exactly what got her killed in her previous life, but that doesn’t keep her from doing it again. I also loved loved loved how this whole turn of events led to exposing the crimes of Adele’s father and stepmother.

TWWK: The change in setting really threw me—and I didn’t like it at first. It get like all the investment in the original setting was for naught, and I didn’t like how the entire genre seemed to be shifting as well. But Mile’s time as a hunter and then her schooling was very engaging, and I much preferred her roommates to the original frenemies that Adele had, who were underdeveloped (for a reason now, it seems, as they served only to strengthen Adele’s character). By the time the volume ended, I had completely bought into the new setting and journey.

stardf29: It took me a while to warm up to the change, too, but the new characters definitely helped a lot, and overall I think the whole “hunter” path makes for a good one for the future of the story. It also can make for some potentially interesting future events when she inevitably reunites with her old friends and the princess, so I’m looking forward to that.

What are you looking forward to seeing animated in the anime adaptation this fall?

JeskaiAngel: I guess my biggest question is simply how faithful the adaptation will be the source. How effectively will it capture the humor of the book, and will the characters stay true to their book identities? Also, how many vols. of the LN will actually get adapted?

TWWK: When I read light novels, I often wonder how they would look like as anime—this volume was more challenging than others. There really isn’t a whole lot of dialogue, for instance, and I’m looking forward to how the the anime makes these necessary changes to bring words to life.

stardf29: I’m definitely also wondering how the anime will be paced. I’ve seen anime adaptations that take their time with events and ones that rush through things, and while there’s always the concern of “will covering X volumes make for a reasonably satisfying story within 12 episodes”, rushing things definitely would not be ideal, either. Other than that, I hope the show nails the comedy. Also, I’m curious to see how the nanomachines will be depicted.

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Time for some more in-depth questions:

What do you think of how Adele/Mile uses her powers? In particular, the extent to which she teaches some of her secrets to others, but also holds back the full extent of her abilities? Do you think she should be doing more, that she’s doing too much, or has she got a good balance?

TWWK: Each time Adele / Mile revealed the use of her powers, or considered how she might do so, I questioned her. She didn’t seem thoughtful enough about it, almost as if she was considering the question as some surface level instead of in a more “write it out and spend days or weeks thinking about it” sort of way. But a funny thing happened as I read the volume—I’ve come to trust both the FUNA and his lead character, both that the author has a grand plan that I’m not aware of (which is what I want in a multiple-volume series) and his character is just as intelligent and talented as described. I know people like that, where it feels like the results of their decisions or serendipitous, but they’re just highly intelligent people who do things well, as willy nilly as they sometimes initially seen. I’m very engaged by Adele’s thought process because I see her as that type of talent, and it’s great fun for me.

JeskaiAngel: I had a sense that she grew over the course of the book, gradually becoming more guarded. I wouldn’t necessarily say she has a “good” balance…but I think she shows a realistic balance. Part of her is a young kid, after all — not just any kid, but one from a comparatively sheltered background. Even the older part of her mind was still only a high school grad (with every passing year, 18 seems more and more like a kid to me) with no experience dealing with magic powers and such. There were times when I was inclined to say “That was obviously a bad idea,” but then I asked myself whether I would have done much better if I were a ten-year-old with immense magic power, super strength, etc., and concluded that her behavior wasn’t that unrealistic. As a kid, I consciously tried to be thoughtful and careful and wise, but in hindsight I can see a lot of foolishness, naivete, and ignorance in my life. The contrast between what she teaches the Wonder Trio vs. what she teaches her huntress buddies, or the flamboyant way she handles the “goddess” incident vs. how she shows more restraint in her climactic duel, shows me someone who learned from her experiences. I appreciate that more than a stupid / foolish character who endlessly makes the same mistakes.

stardf29: As Adele, there’s definitely a sense of how she just wants to help people but she’s not aware just how her powers and knowledge could shake up the world, or at least some people’s lives. As Mile, she thinks a bit more about the potential consequences of her actions while still trying to help people, so she at least is thinking a bit further ahead. It’s interesting to see her grasp that trying to help people too much could ultimately cause problems. At the same time, I think there will always be a part of Mile that wants to help people, without thinking too much about the consequences, and I like that about her. Having that tension between wanting to help people and having to consider the results of doing so is something that I think makes her such a great character.

Our next question comes courtesy of JeskaiAngel:

How do you feel about the novel’s treatment of deity? The “god” who reincarnates Adele/Mile, or her goddess impersonation and people’s responses to it?

TWWK: Yeah, not a fan of the world’s god for a couple of reasons. One, I always take a pause when the idea of a “god” is treated in such a way. I know that this is not MY God, but I also accept that in this world, my God doesn’t exist and because he’s the almighty deity of the universe, that feels like an affront—at least I feel insulted by it. Creatively, though, I’m also a little disappointed as we don’t get a lot of details here, and maybe that’s the point, but it still doesn’t sit well with me—the nanomachine technology, by comparison, is more alive and interesting and nuanced. Perhaps we’ll learn more in future volumes (there seems to be some foreshadowing of that), so I’m willing to set this aside for a while as the story develops!

JeskaiAngel:  I’m always struck by the pitifully impoverished notion of deity I see in fiction. Gods are almost always weak, easily tricked or killed, ignorant, given to making mistakes, and/or etc. Sometimes this is handled by revealing that “god” isn’t really a god, or doesn’t even consider themselves a god, and that helps a little. But more often I’m just left thinking about the authors’ lack of imagination such that they couldn’t envision a more impressive concept for divinity. It’s totally possible to write good fantasy fiction with an Almighty deity — the works of Lewis and Tolkien bear that out. Also, when reading I Shall Survive Using Potions, also by FUNA, I was struck by the fact that not only does that story feature “gods” much like the one in this series, but the protagonist expresses active hostility to religion; perhaps that says something about the author.

stardf29: I think this is in part due to Japanese culture, particularly the prominent Shinto religion which features multiple gods, many of which are not particularly strong. Combined with the lack of Christianity’s presence, and I think it’s easy for Japanese authors to think of and thus write gods that ultimately are disappointing in their divinity. Of course, poor portrayals of religion and deities is an issue across fantasy in general, not just for the Japanese, and I think the prevalence of tropes like corrupt churches in general fantasy lead to many authors to just think those things are normal. For Japanese light novel authors, the lack of exposure to anything really different as far as faith goes does not help at all.

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Any last words on this novel?

TWWK: It was a fun, engaging opening volume—I’m really interested in seeing how this story develops, and to see it animated!

JeskaiAngel: I enjoyed the first volume of Abilities Average enough to read the all the following entries. It’s a strong introduction to a great light novel series.

stardf29: In addition to getting more into this series, I’ve also gotten into the author FUNA’s other two series, I Shall Survive Using Potions! (mentioned earlier) and Saving 80,000 Gold in Another World For My Retirement. Both also feature women ending up into another world with interesting powers and making a mess of things, but each novel has its own flair to it, and I’m enjoying each one in its own way.

Thanks for joining us! If you read along with us, leave your own answer to the above questions in the comments! As for next time, we have a series that got a popular anime adaptation, and is a personal favorite of one of the staff, so look forward to our next chapter!

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Volume one of Didn’t I Say to Make My Abilities Average in the Next Life?! can be purchased on Amazon.

#light novels #btt light novel club #didn’t i say to make my abilities average in the next life?! #watashi nouryoku wa heikinchi de tte itta yo ne! #anime #articles #author: twwk #author: stardf29 #Author: Jeskai Angel

[blackenedinsomnia]

A Bond Forged through Fire & Steel.

Hey, hope everyone has a decent holiday. I have been working on this piece for a couple of days and just wanted to get this out here. This follows my 2 OC’s Lucas Von Richer and Lana Schmitt, going about in their lives as normally as they can.  Note: Lucas was used in my second Kirimina fanfic, which is also on my page however the TLDR is; he is a UA hero grad, with heightened intelligence and agility who’s hero name is Crossguard.

Enjoy! ________________________________________________________________

It was 0600 hours above the seas of Japan, the sun laid out a path of light across the cotton-like carpet. Lucas sat there in his chair tapping away at his laptop, finishing his weekly report on his patients. The interior of his jet was lavish, a white body spanned across the walling of the plane with a wooden undercut, six leather seats filled the jet for other passengers, the flooring finished the plane with a brown carpet.

Lucas took a sip of his coffee, then laid the cup on the white plate that accompanied it. A woman came from the pilot’s cabin and walked over toward Lucas and sat in the chair opposite him. “Lucas,” she said tapping his kneecap “We’re making our descent to Haneda Airport now” she smiled, her white teeth glistening in the sun. Laying her hand on his metal prosthetic and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Sure Lana, let me just save this report and I’ll switch off” he smiled back. Lana was a bright individual, she had long flowing dark ginger hair and had hazel eyes. She wore a cream turtle-neck jumper and a white lab coat.

The plane slowly descended towards the runway, slicing through the clouds like butter. The wheels scratched the runway as the plane came to a stop. Stepping off the plane, he took in the fresh air, reminiscing, he felt he was back home again. “Well Lucas you seem to be happy, this is the first time I’ve seen your shoulders relax” she giggled handing his laptop bag.

“Has it been that long?” he smiled slinging the bag around his shoulder.

“Well were to first Lucas, I’ve noticed that there is a lot on the schedule,” she said flipping through her phone’s diary.

“Well we’re supposed to be meeting principle Nezu for a meeting with other U.A teachers,” he said walking towards the entrance to the arrival section of the airport.

Wait, Lucas! Are you going to become a U.A teacher?” she exclaimed

“Well that is one of the reasons why and I’m here to see some old friends as well” he grinned.

Two hours had passed, Lucas and Lana stumbling out of the taxi like zombies. “Good god that took way too long” he pushed his voice out with last exasperated breath.

“Yeah, I know, I feel like a wet rag, it’s super warm” Lana stretched her arms and back out.

“Well at least you’re here” Principle Nezu walked up jauntily “How was your Journey?” he asked.

“As you can see Mr Nezu, not that great, I feel like I pulled a cable” Lucas chuckled “I hope I am not late?” he said realizing the time.

“Not at all Lucas, we’re still awaiting All Might and Creati to join us, so you aren’t the only ones” he smiled. “Now please if you may follow me” he gestured to the entrance. Lucas smiled as a wave of nostalgia flooded him walking through the entrance of the school. Walking through the hallways past the big door of Class – 1A, a small smile perked up reminiscing of the time he spent in the same corridors.

“Hey Lucas” Lana whispered in his ear

“What’s up Lana?” he whispered back

“To be honest, I wasn’t expecting the principle to be ah… well…” she paused trying to find her words.

“A small polar bear-like creature” he chuckled back

“Yeah!” she snapped her fingers, giggling away

“Well we’re here” Nezu opened the door and there sat around a rectangular table was Eraser Head, Present Mic, Creati, Battle Fist and All Might.

“Sorry for the wait everyone” Lucas bowed in embarrassment

“No, it’s fine Crossguard, you travelled pretty far to be here and on such short notice” All Might stood up and extended his hand out. “How have things been on I Island?” he said as Lucas’s metallic hand grasped his.

“It’s been fine, tiresome but fine” Lucas smiled.

“And who is that woman with you Crossguard?” Creati said pointing to Lana. He turned around to see Lana, frantically breathing behind her briefcase, getting redder every second.

“She spoke to me!” she squealed, she ran over to Creati and pulled her up from her seat. “I’m your biggest fan! I’ve read all of your interviews, I followed you on your campaign to put more funding into the science industry and your motivations have really inspired me and…” she paused looking where she was standing. Lucas looked at her with a negative expression on his face. “Oh, I am so sorry, I should really know my bounds” she squealed bowing apologetically.

“It’s fine, I’m glad that you view me as that way and I always have fans coming up to me like that as well” she smiled “It’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?” she asked.

“Oh my name is Lana Schmitt, I’m the assistant researcher to Luca… I mean Crossguard” she smiled extending her hand in a friendly gesture.

“Well it’s very nice to meet you anyway Lana” she extended her hand and shook Lana’s.

“Well now that everyone is here, we can discuss why you’re here Crossguard,” Nezu said hopping onto his chair swivelling in toward Lucas. “You’re here to make sure that the student’s here at UA academy, feel safe and are given the correct education,” he said taking a sip of his green tea. “I’ve brought everyone here to welcome you to UA and congratulate yourself on accepting the position of Homeroom teacher for Class 1-B” he clapped, and applause followed.

“Congrats Crossguard I can’t wait to see whose class will come out on top” Aizawa plainly stated

“Thank you Aizawa, but it’s Lucas or alternatively you can call me Richer, whatever works for you” he grinned shooting a competitive stare.

“Well let’s all get sat down and finish this meeting, I need to get home to my cats and I really need to pick Eri up” Aizawa groaned

“Right you are” Lucas replied, the meeting went on for 4 hours and covered procedures, what the curriculum was and who was in each class after the meeting concluded Lucas walked out toward the gates with Lana.

“Uh Lucas how are we getting to the apartment?” she asked

“I’ve asked Nezu if we could have a carpool to take us to the house, I picked out for us, and it should be here soon,” he said taking off his glasses and cleaned his lenses

“Oh okay,” she said gripping her briefcase around her chest, the wind blowing through her long ginger hair.

“Hey, Lana, when you were about to say my name to Yaoyorozu, why did you stop?” he turned to her putting his glasses on.

“Oh well, I thought it would’ve been rude” she flustered

“Is that so?” he said as the car pulled up beside them, he went and opened the door and let Lana in. The car ride was 20 minutes in total for the both to arrive at their makeshift home. Lana was the first to step out and have a look at the new accommodation they would be living in for the foreseeable future. She had gotten a file of the house from the properties the previous owner and started to read it.

“I know we’re dating and everything, but this seems to surreal” she whispered in denial

A 2-bedroom house with an open kitchen that extended into the dining room, two bathrooms and an ensuite bathroom on the main bedroom, which complimented it with a balcony overlooking a motorway. They set down their luggage in the entrance of the house and went to look at the house.

Later on, in the day shopping was delivered to their new home. Lucas awoke from his slumber on the sofa and checked his watch. “18:45, is it really that late?” Lucas whispered “Lana, honey!?” he shouted walking to the beginning of the stairs shouting up to her “What do you want for Tea?” Lana walked to the top of the stairs standing there in a pink bathrobe.

“There should be some steak in the freezer and some potatoes in the garage, or…” she unravelled the bathrobe “you can come with me and we order take out?” she whispered seductively walking away towards the bathroom. A wave of heat overcame Lucas and walked up the stairs, unbuttoning his shirt and making his way towards her.

He took off his shirt and grabbed her by the waist and kissed her passionately on the lips. Taking off his trousers and underwear they paused and looked at one another, this was one of the first times they had privacy and some time together.

His metallic hand firmly plastered itself on her back, she recoiled in shock. “Lucas! Stop doing that, you know I hate it when your arm is cold” she yelled her hair flaring up into flames

“That’s why I do it, it annoys you and…” he leaned over and whispered, “but it brings out your fiery side” she looked at him, her flames extinguished and her face blushed redder than her ginger hair. He picked her up and placed her in the bath, squeezing himself around her body, he let her rest her head on his chest.

“I love this” he whispered to the quiet Lana. “This house being with you, settled, it feels relaxing” he smiled at her pulling her closer.

“You’re a big dummy, you do realise that right?” she sheepishly responded, Lucas, chuckled to himself and kissed Lana on her head.

“Well we’ll have takeout and then we’ll get down to business” he whispered again

It was midnight and the house was quiet from the kitchen to the upstairs area, Takeout bags were messily straddled on the dining room table and clothes were cascaded on the walk up to the main bedroom where the two slept. The covers were covering half of Lucas’s bottom, Lana slept peacefully with the covers covering her body.

Lucas tossed and turned in his bed, his metallic fingers moving frantically. Suddenly he jolted up with a shock, searing pain shot through his right. His arm spasmed frantically, he disconnected his arm from his body, banging to the floor; the arm moving out of control like a dying animal. He grabbed his phone and turned off the arm, it’s movement ceasing.

Lucas fell over onto the floor, he laid there for a moment and started to regain his bearings. He was still sweating, he slowly stood up, grabbed his lighter and his cigars from his coat pocket and walked out onto the balcony. He lit his cigarette and breathed in, the ember burning away till the halfway point. He exhaled as smoke billowed out into the night sky.

“Really Lucas, I thought you quit?” Lana looked at him worryingly from the doorway

“Yeah sorry Lana, it’s the only thing that takes the edge off,” he said rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb.

“Did it happen again?” she asked walking up behind him wrapping her arms around his chest.

“Yeah” he whispered.

It was 5 years ago when the incident happened, it was on I island a horrible accident that changed both of their lives. Lucas was a scientist there researching how to heal wounds with different types of technologies and makeshift inventions. And Lana was the patient, her quirk was out of control and super volatile. Whenever she took on pain, she could convert it into raw power, which she can use in any way she seemed fit too.

Lucas sat there in his office, the monitors light blinding the dark enveloped room. “Today is the 16th of May 2030, my name is Dr Lucas Von Richer; this is test number 22. Patient is Lana Schmitt, a quirk user wanting to control her quirk.” Lucas took a sip of his coffee from the paper cup on the righthand side of his desk. Lana was laying down on a metal table.

“Lana is also hooked up to a shocking device that’ll charge her quirk up to max power she can disconnect at any time by pressing the button on the remote strapped to her hand.” He looked through behind the monitor to the window.

“Lana are you sure you want to do this?” Lucas still worried at what it’ll do to her.

“I’ll be fine Lucas, I need to do this,” she said in determination

“Okay Patient is co-operative with the experiment, the camera is now recording” he typed away at his keyboard. Lana laid there in discomfort as her hair started to flare up. “Okay Lana, vitals are stable, shocks should be increasing slowly, we’re now hitting 30%” Lucas informed her. His computer read her quirk output and her stress levels. Discomfort turned into distress, Lana’s skin started to light up in a bright orange glow as the voltage increased, the remote disintegrated as the heat of the room increased.

“Argh!” she screamed in pain.

“Lana!” Lucas screamed trying to stop the voltage. It wasn’t working, Lucas was panicking. Her quirk output was overloading the sensors and her emotions were going out of control. “Shit, shit, shit” he quickly scurried to the door and forced it open. The heat was unbearable “Lana!” he yelled as the room was flooded with light. He reached out desperately to help her, his heroism blinding him.

“Lucas stay away…” before she could finish, the room exploded. 30 minutes passed, and Lucas regained conscious, a seething pain blistered his right shoulder. Opening his eyes, he could only see smoke and red flashing lights all around the room. He felt weak, looking to his right he was haemorrhaging blood from his missing appendage. Moving some rubble, he walked towards a first aid kit on the floor. His scarred and burnt body making it hard to move around, he found a capsule in the kit and applied it to his wound sealing it.

“Argh goddammit!” he yelled in pain, biting down on his teeth. “Lana!” he yelled in desperation running into the testing lab. The room was burnt to a crisp with Lana perfectly preserved in the middle of the room. The walls still exposing mass amounts of heat. He ran to her ignoring that and checked her pulse. “She’s… fine?” he gasped.

Just then the door was melted down and two heroes ran in. “Lucas you here?” Kirishima yelled.

“Yes… cough, cough… there’s another person in here as well!” Lucas yelled both heroes ran over into the other room.

“Lucas what the hell happened to you!” Mina screamed  

“I need to get her to safety” Lucas slurred the adrenaline slowly fading from his body. He started to slowly drop down onto the black ground.

“Lucas you need to stop, you’re too hurt,” Mina said picking up Lana “Kiri pick up Lucas and take him to the med bay,” she said.

“No I need to…” his last few words, pushed out as he slowly closed his eyes and fainted from the pain.

Day became night and Lucas had awoken from when he passed out. He sat there with bandages on the right side of his face. He sat there, worried about Lana he couldn’t think straight.

“I’m so clueless, damn it” he bit in anger, tears stinging the slightly blistered side of his face. The door opened to his room and a Doctor walked in with Lana in a wheelchair, she frantically wheeled herself out of doctor’s grip.

“Lucas!” she screamed with relief, she hugged him, grasping him tight with her joy. “I thought I killed you” she blubbered tears running down her face. She rolled back and looked at his arm and face, she gasped in shock. “Did I do this to you?” she said quietly.

“No this was not your fault Lana, it was over my arrogance and ignorance for the worst to happen” he wiped the tears from her face. “I can repair my burns with my nano-bots, however…” he lifted her head by her chin “I’ll need some help with a few things” he chuckled.

She looked up at him her face still damp from her tears “As long as you help me as well” she smiled.

Through the past few years, Lucas had been working on the metal arm that earned him the name Crossguard, Lana started to learn over Lucas and she became his assistant to his research and helped him wherever they went. Soon they became close, their work saved hundreds of heroes’ lives.

A dynamic duo forged in fire and steel.

Lucas woke up with his phone buzzing on his bedside table, lifting the covers he sat upright on the edge of the bed. Looking at the light peering through the cream blinds of the bedroom. He looked over to Lana, peacefully sleeping, he smiled; got up and went to take a shower.

After he finished his shower he went downstairs invest and smart trousers turned the hob on and started to prepare to cook. Switching on the radio it turned onto the news.

“Today 30 people have been injured and 5 have been killed in a train bombing in downtown Musutafu that happened late last night. Witness reports seem to indicate that the men involved were part of a cult or organisation.” Lucas listened along cracking 2 eggs into the frying pan whilst the sizzling bacon cracked and popped, concerned about the news.

“Other witnesses have said that they heard them scream “For the Eye” before detonating the bombs, we go to Hayunji Station with a personal statement from Detective Tsukauchi,” the newscaster said as Lucas took two plates out of the cupboard and placed them on the dining room table.

“I can understand the worrying from the public, and we’re trying to crack down on this organisation with different hero agencies. I’d advise the public to keep an eye out for men in all black with a big red eye on the back of their suits. If these are seen please contact the authorities and we’ll deal with them. Thank You”

Lucas poured 2 glasses of fresh orange and placed a long plate of toast out on the table as well. Turning off the radio he laid out the other condiments. The breakfast was made, with 3 rashes of bacon each, 1 fried egg each with a side of fried tomatoes. He burst the yolk and on Lana’s plate, the yellow liquid seeping out onto the rest of the egg.

He heard her footsteps coming down the stairs, Lucas sat in his chair and started to eat. “Hey honey, how is the arm?” Lana trying to combat jetlag, she stood there in her underwear with one of Lucas’s creased work shirts, her hair looked like untwined rope.

“The pain has gone but I haven’t put it back on yet,” he said drinking from his glass

“So, you’re saying that you did this all with one arm?” she asked scratching her head, sitting down at the table biting into a piece of toast.

“I had been living without my right arm for 1 month” he laughed.

“Well what’s on the agenda today?” she asked poking at her egg

“Well I need to go back to the school as it is opening today so I need to be off soon,” he said placing the fork down on his plate. “However, I do want some help with reaching the arm” he embarrassingly asked.

After Lana finished her breakfast they both got changed.

Lucas re-equipped his arm, he grabbed his trench coat and went to the carpool. “Lucas! Wait!” Lana yelled. “I made you lunch for today! Think of it as a thank you for breakfast” she giggled kissing him on his bearded cheek. “Have a good first day!” she joyfully shouted as the car pulled away.

In the car, he opened up his phone and had a look at the file sent to him on Class 1-B. “I wonder what these fine young heroes have in store for me?” he grinned.

#bnha oc #my hero academia #bnha #fanfic

[choicesfanatic86]

TTS:  Part 4 (Liam x MC)

DISCLAIMER:  All characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, except characters unique to my story.  Those belong to me. ;)

PAIRINGS:  Riley (MC) x OC, Riley (MC) x Liam, Liam x Riley (MC) x OC, Olivia x Drake, Bertrand x Savannah, Maxwell x OC

SUMMARY:  Riley must accept that to move on to a new future, she must confront her past.

TAGS:  @herladyshipxx @theroyalweisme @blackcatkita @devineinterventions2 @hopefulmoonobject @captainkingliam @pbchoicesobsessed @queencatherynerhys @mfackenthal @cocomaxley @crayziimaginations @grapefrults @pessimystic-fangirl

Hi guys! Thank you again for your kind words about the Through the Storm series.  I’m so happy it’s getting such positive feedback.  Part 5 will likely be released late Tuesday/early Wednesday. :)

I received a question about Riley’s age in this book.  In my mind, I have Riley as 28.  She left Cordonia when she was 26.  Andy is currently 26.  Paul is 39, so that puts him around 10 years older than Riley.

PART 4 - The Return

Riley awoke the next morning with a terrible hangover.  She didn’t normally drink  . . . let alone drink a whole lot of whisky.  In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had a drink of whisky, but if she were to guess right, it was probably with Drake back in Cordonia while on the engagement tour.  Her head was pounding, she felt nauseated, and her thoughts were fuzzy but not fuzzy enough to forget what happened the night before.  She sighed as she walked to the bathroom rifling through the medicine cabinet . . . looking for something . . . anything to ward off the colossal migraine she had woken up with.  She found the nearest pain reliever and popped two into her mouth.  

Searching for something to eat, she wandered into the kitchen, pulling a muffin out of the container.  Sitting down at the table, she started to scan through the messages on her phone.  She noticed that she had a new email.  She smiled slightly when she saw Maxwell’s name as the sender.  She clicked into the message.

MY DEAR LITTLE BLOSSOM,

I can’t believe you actually responded!  Bertrand said I’d be wasting my time (and money) trying to send you an invitation.  I’m so happy I get to prove him wrong.  I can’t believe my best friend is coming back to me.  The prodigal Beaumont returns!

Of course you can bring someone!  The more the merrier.  After all, this Beaumont wedding will be the party to top all parties.    Although, I’m afraid their reception will be missing one crucial piece of any Beaumont party.   Savannah has requested that no  weapons be present at the reception.  She’s worried about the influence it might have on little Bartie, so I’m afraid our fancy champagne opening will have to wait for another occasion.  She really doesn’t know what she’s missing.  ☹

Please don’t worry yourself about airfare or hotel accommodations.   I insist that you stay at the house while you’re in Cordonia. After all, you are an honorary Beaumont, and your room is still waiting for you.  I can’t have you staying just anywhere.  I can also arrange to have a private jet fly you here.  Finances have been much better since we’ve last spoken, and I couldn’t possibly have you flying commercial.  I’ll be sure to set up the arrangements and email you once they are confirmed.  

And don’t you worry about you know who.  I can keep your return under wraps until the wedding.

Your Best Friend, Maxwell

Maxwell was still so very Maxwell.  Time hadn’t changed him at all.  He was still the lovable goofball who tried his very best to make everyone and anyone happy.  Riley could just picture him gleefully smiling and bouncing up and down as he wrote his response to her.  She was glad that he was exactly as she remembered him.  She was also glad that he didn’t seem to have any sort of resentment toward her.  At least not that she could decipher in the message.  

As she was closing out her email app, she heard rustling from Andy’s bedroom.   No sooner than a few seconds later did Andy come gliding out of the room with a huge smile on her face.  “Good Morning, Sunshine.”  Andy sang cheerily as she walked into the kitchen.

Riley cringed and groaned at her cheerfulness.  “Shut up,” she said.  “I just took some Advil.  Let it kick in before you get all cheery”

“I see somebody had a bit too much whisky last night.”  Andy pointed to the half empty bottle on the kitchen counter.  “Wonder what brought that on?” Andy snorted.

“You’re hilarious.” Riley said sarcastically.  “You know, if the whole grad school thing doesn’t work for you, you could probably make it as a stand up comedienne.”

“Touché.”  Andy nodded.  “So, how’d last night go with Paul?”

“Pretty good.  It was nice to spend some time with him.  He did kind of catch me off guard though.  He told me had to talk to me about something . . .” Riley started to explain before Andy cut her off.

“Did he pop THE question? The question that gets you a shiny new ring on that left hand finger?”  Andy excitedly squealed.

“What?”  Riley exclaimed.  “No.  God, no.  We are nowhere near that.  He asked me to move in with him.”

“Oh.”  Andy paused, taken aback.  “I’m guessing I’m not included in that equation, huh?”  She said softly, her cheerful excitement waning.  “So are you going to?”  She asked nervously.

Riley sighed, shaking her head.  “I told him that with everything going on lately, I needed some time to think about it.  So don’t worry, you’re not out of a roommate just yet.  I told him I needed some time to consider all the factors involved.  I mean, he dropped a bombshell on me . . . I dropped a bombshell on him.  It was an intense night.”  Riley continued.  “I told him about the wedding.  About Cordonia.”

Andy raised her eyebrows.  “You did?  How did he take things?”

“Surprisingly well,” Riley said.  “I honestly thought he’d be pissed that I kept it from him.”  Riley rubbed her hand across her face as if to rub the sleep out of her eyes.  “He wasn’t upset at all.  He was understanding and sweet.  He didn’t judge me or ask why I didn’t tell him sooner.  I really think I found the last decent man in New York.”  She smiled softly.  “He told me he supports whatever decision I make about things.”  

“And have you?  Made a decision that is?” Andy asked.

Riley nodded slowly.  “I have.”  Riley started to rub the back of her neck, massaging the knots out that had formed with all the stress of the previous day.  “I went back and forth about it a lot last night, but I couldn’t get your words out of my head.  It kills me to say this, but you’re right.  I do need closure.  And now that Paul wants me to move in with him, I think it made me realize that maybe things in Cordonia weren’t as finished as I had wanted to believe them to be.”  She shrugged lightly.  “I think if I’m going to have any sort of future with Paul, I have to accept everything that happened and really move on from it this time.  So I’m going . . . I’m gonna try to leave on Friday.  I emailed Maxwell last night, and I just got his response this morning.  He is going to arrange for a private jet to take me to Cordonia.”

“A private jet?”  She gaped at Riley.  “Who are you right now?”  She exclaimed.  

“Out of everything I just said you only walk away with the fact that I’m going to be going on a private jet.” Riley admonished.

“Yeah.”  Andy said.  “That’s kind of a big deal.”

“Anyway . . . I have few things to tie up with the business.  I’ve already phoned Alicia and asked her to hold down the fort while I am gone for the next few weeks.  The Mitchell Group’s Grand Opening isn’t for another month and a half, so I’ll have enough time to work on things with them when I get back.”

“Wow, it seems like you have pretty much everything figured out already.”  Andy noted.  “So how does Paul feel about traveling on a private jet?  I’m sure he’s had his fair share of rides on them considering he travels so much for business.”

Riley shook her head.  “Oh, Paul’s not coming with me.  He has to fly out to Boston in a couple of weeks to work on that merger he’s been dealing with for months now.”

“You’re going alone?” Andy asked with surprise.

“Actually. . . “Riley trailed off.  “I was hoping you would be my plus one.”  Riley said.  “It was your bright idea for me to go back there, and there’s no way in hell I’m doing this alone.   I need some back up here.  I know you’ve got your thesis to worry about, but we’ll be gone for like maybe three weeks at the most and you can even bring your –“

Riley’s sentence was cut off by a loud shriek.  Andy ran over to Riley enveloping her in a huge bear hug.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.  EUROTRIP!”  She yelled.

Riley smirked.  “Don’t thank me yet.  You haven’t experienced court yet.”  Riley sighed.  “I just don’t want you getting caught up in all of the glitz and glamour of Cordonia.  It’s really easy to get swept up in court politics and the fancy balls.  I don’t want what happened to me to happen to you.  Okay?”

“Ri, we’ll be there for three weeks.  I don’t think the world can end in three weeks,” she said sarcastically.

“I fell for him in a matter of weeks, Andy.  I didn’t even see it coming,” Riley whispered sadly.

Andy placed a comforting hand on Riley’s shoulder.  “Things are going to be okay, you know.  You’ll see.  You’re making the right decision.”  Riley could only nod as she headed back into her bedroom to start coordinating their travel plans.

The days passed by quickly as Riley and Andy prepared for their trip to Cordonia.  Riley had worked tirelessly to make sure her assistant was prepared for any possible scenario that could arise during her time away from the business.  She knew Alicia was fully capable of handling things on her own for a little while, but Riley needed a distraction to keep her mind from wandering to all the “what if” scenarios of what could happen while in Cordonia.  She considered herself fortunate that Paul and Andy were so patient with her fears, and let her vent out her frustrations and worries to them, even if they seemed a bit over the top.  The anxiety she felt had grown as their departure date neared.  She had emailed back and forth with Maxwell in the days before the trip, and their short email conversations seemed to help keep her anxieties at bay.  She was glad that their friendship seemed stable despite how they last left things.  They spoke as if no time was lost, and it helped to think that she’d at least have one friend back in court that she could rely on.  

Friday came far too quickly for Riley, and she found that her nerves hadn’t improved.  Paul had offered to take them to the airport, and Riley happily accepted.  The drive to the airport was quiet, and it was making Riley’s anxiety worse.  She fiddled with the radio’s buttons trying to find something, anything to distract her from the thoughts that kept pulsing through her head.  Paul must have realized how anxious she was because he took one of his hands off the wheel to hold Riley’s hand loosely.  The small gesture put Riley slightly at ease.  Ten minutes later, Paul pulled into the drop off at JFK International Airport.  As they got out of the car, Paul pulled Riley off to the side.  

“You’re gonna be okay right?”  Paul kissed her forehead, pulling her closely into his lean body.

Riley nodded.  “Yes . . . Maxwell has assured me that he and Bertrand are the only ones who know I’m coming.  He’s going to try his best to keep the press out of the loop about my arrival.”  She adjusted her backpack on her shoulders nervously.  “They didn’t tell him I was coming, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He shook his head firmly.  “I’m not worried about him.  I’m worried about you.”

Riley nodded.  “I’m fine.  I promise to call you once we get settled there.”  She snuggled into his embrace.  “I wish you were coming, too.”

Paul nodded in agreement.  “I know.  I do, too.  After everything that you’ve told me, I wanted to be there for you in case you ran into him.  I’m glad you’ll at least have Andy with you.”

As if on cue, Andy yelled behind them, “Alright lovebirds, we gotta get moving!” Paul laughed at Andy’s eagerness and gave Riley a soft kiss on her lips.  “I love you.  Be safe out there.  I want you back in one piece.” Riley returned the kiss a bit more forcefully.  “I’m going to miss you, babe.”  She tightened her hold on hi a little before reluctantly letting go.  She took one last look at him and smiled before entering through the airport’s sliding doors.    JFK was a mess.  Luckily, because they were going to be traveling on a private plane, there was a special TSA line that expedited security clearances.  Once they had passed through TSA, they found the aviation bay where their plane was scheduled to depart from and patiently waited until one of the staff members told them they could board.  

Once on board, Riley’s nerves seemed to settle . . . maybe it was her body’s way of accepting that there was no turning back now.  Whether she was ready or not, she’d be in Cordonia in a little under eight hours.  While Riley had been hemming and hawing about their arrival, Andy had been in sheer bliss.  She had never flown on a private plane before and she was going to take full advantage of all the free little amenities the jet had to offer.

Somewhere along the line, Riley had fallen asleep, only to be jostled awake by Andy’s nudging.  “We’re going to land soon.”  She said quietly.  “I think you can see Cordonia from here.”

Riley looked out of the plane’s window.  The beautiful, lush mountains could be vaguely seen from their altitude.  “It’s hard to believe that such a beautiful place could cause such heartache.”

Andy looked over at her friend’s forlorn expression, grabbing her hand and squeezing it.  “I’m with you ever step of the way, okay?”

Riley nodded, turning her attention back to the window.  “It’s hard to believe I’m even back.”

#choices: stories you play #playchoices #choices #trr fanfic #trr #the royal romance #theroyalromance #liam x mc #riley lawson

[athicfa]

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #84 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #85 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #86 Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #87

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #84

Felicia’s getting discharged!

hospital dropped her bill which is fantastic but also does that mean Peter now put off Grad school for nothing???

I SAW THAT ASS GRAB YOU’RE NOT SLICK SPIDER BOY

OH MY GOD THE MAIN CONFLICT OF THIS ISSUE IS SO FUCKED UP WHAT

not gonna go into detail because it doesn’t involve Felicia at all but WHAT

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #85

he got cold feet about telling her his identity. ouchie.

nice little dinner date with a good conversation about their relationship

her grappling cable is in her collar in this? um no honey just IMAGINE the tiddy pain. glad they switched it to her arms.

2/3 of this issue is Peter and Felicia being simps for each other

HOBGOBLIN YOU ARE WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS

OH MY GOD PETER SHE WAS TRYING TO SAVE YOU STOP IT

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #86

ah the Fred Hembeck art style

PETER YOU’RE STILL BEING MEAN STOP >:(

okay now they’re being honest with each other that’s good

Felicia’s addressing her adrenaline-seeking tendencies but she doesn’t see it as a bad thing. She thinks Peter has the same problem, an “addiction” to being Spiderman like she’s “addicted” to being the Black Cat.

Peter’s scared to have her around because he almost watched her die and is terrified of her losing her life for him. Seeing her in a dangerous situation triggers him, which is why he was being super grumpy at the end of the previous issue when they were fighting Hobgoblin.

Now that they’ve had that talk, Peter says he doesn’t want any more secrets between them, and he’s finally going to show her everything about his life! Starting with his place of work. So hopefully we get a #face reveal soon. (End me for that stupid internet joke please.)

Felicia casually chatting up Jameson while Peter fights the Fly.

Jameson proceeds to have nightmares about Spider-Kittens for six years.

the sheer power of Felicia Hardy’s ass just busted a hole in the wall and no I am not joking.

also they keep having Felicia get taken out by the dumbest things I know she’s still not at full strength but this is RUDE and HERESY

there’s so much paper around SWAT THAT MOTHERFUCKER WITH A NEWSPAPER FFS

Love the fourth wall break. “The story you are reading is ripped violently from its assistant editor’s hands!”

Peter Parker, The Spectacular Spider-Man Vol 1 #87

They’re promising me the reveal and they better deliver istg

“Her joy knows no bounds. She revels in the romance of it.” see I KNEW she was a sappy romantic under all of that black spandex

she’s shocked his real life isn’t so glamorous but I’m not surprised since so far she’s only known the idealized Spiderman. Now she gets to meet Peter.

HE’S TELLING HER HIS LIFE’S STORY LET’S GOOOOOOO

The reveal and...what the fuck.

I don’t like her reaction. That feels so OOC. I know they want to go for the whole “Spidey is exciting while Peter is a normal dude” angle but this was the WORST way to do it. That was so fucking cold and awful after so much warmth and her genuine desire to know the real him across 10+ issues like what the fuck??? This feels like that one issue where they wrote her as completely deranged and obsessed then backtracked later and said she was faking.

No seriously “all of that’s unimportant” YOU JUST HAD HER GO ON NON-STOP FOR 10+ ISSUES ABOUT HOW IMPORTANT IT IS TO HER TO KNOW THE REAL HIM WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS RANDOM HEEL-TURN BULLSHIT

IM MAD

ALL THAT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT FOR THIS

FUCK

#[comic commentary]

[lolainblue]

Thunderbirds,  Chapter 24

t/w: mentions of drug use, suicide

   With a sick feeling in my stomach. I took Jane's laptop and set it aside. This whole time I had been telling myself that whatever Jared thought was going on was only in his head, that he had let feelings from that night at the party color his perception of her.  But the look on Jane's face now told me that whatever was going on had at least some truth in it.  I just couldn't understand why, if she knew there was something to Jared's accusations, she had acted so confused by his behavior.  Things still weren't making sense.  I hoped they were about to.  I hoped they weren't about to break my heart.

   “It isn't like they're saying.  It's not all lies but it's not like they're saying, I swear Shannon.”  Jane wiped her eyes and took another drink of her juice.  “I don't even know where to start.”

  “Maybe from the beginning?” I suggested.

   Jane shook her head.  “First of all, you need to know something.  You know how I said Angus's parents hated his ex-girlfriends? Well, one they hated in particular, sort of the chief ringleader of the skanky shenanigans club was Lacey.  She's an actress, she's on this Aussie soap opera and she kind of has this weird cult following.  And she hates me.  Oh, my god, does she hate me.  But I had bigger things to worry about at the time and Angus had stopped seeing her and got a restraining order, and I just kind of let it go...”

  “Restraining order? What the hell did you get yourself mixed up in Jane?” If I wasn't officially worried about where this confessional was going to go a minute a go I was now.  “I'm guessing whatever it was she didn't “just let it go”?”

    Jane shook her head. “No, it looks like she did anything but. And apparently she has convinced her little fan club that I'm the psycho whore of Babylon, out to ruin Lacey's life and steal her precious boyfriend and they have a whole website dedicated to how much they hate me.” She let out a ragged breath, but the tears seemed to be under control for the moment.  

  “Okay, well that sounds upsetting and a little crazy but....”

  “Which is ridiculous because who the fuck am I right? I mean sure Lacey knows me but why would these people care?” Jane seemed to still be processing whatever was happening.  She rubbed her temple and took a few deep breaths. “I know I'm not exactly an angel.  I've made some decisions that weren't the smartest, but....” she paused, seeming to be lost for words.  Which was chilling enough, Jane was always explaining and over explaining and the only times I had ever seen her speechless were big deals.  I braced myself for whatever was coming.

  “Just tell me what's going on Jane,” I told her as reassuringly as possible.  “I promise I will listen.”

   She nodded.  “Okay, let's start with that workshop where I met Angus.   Remember how I said I had been dating the guy that was giving it? Well, the whole story was he was an artist in residence, a novelist who was teaching a few classes that year.  I took his class the first semester I got there, fall semester.  We didn't go out until I had finished the class, this workshop was part of the way through the spring semester.  And really it was only a few times, we weren't actually romantically compatible, we got bored.  I didn't think it was any big deal at the time and I swear until just now I didn't even know that other people knew.  That's why I didn't put it together when you said Jared mentioned it. It was that much of a non-event.”

   I didn't understand what the big deal was here.  “So you kind of dated your professor.  Sounds like a bad romance novel.  What's the problem?”

  “Well,” she said, eyes down, “I ended up applying for a writing fellowship. Which I won.  Guess who was on the selection committee.”

  “Shit Jane.” All right this certainly sounded bad but didn't come close to explaining the drama from either Jared or her, nor justify a stalking campaign or an internet hate site.

   “I swear I didn't know it at the time, and when I confronted him afterward he swore to me it had nothing to do with our previous relationship.” Well, of course, he's going to tell you that Janey, I thought. Then again, if it happened the way he said and he was bored with her and uninterested, why would he have a reason to tip the selection in her favor?  “But yes, it looks bad, and they're accusing me of sleeping with him to get the grant.” I could hear the frustration in her voice.  I wanted to comfort her but there was more and I had to get to the bottom of it.

   “I'm not following Jane.  I mean I know it sounds bad but it's not that big of a deal.”

    She agreed. “No, not by itself.  I know it's just innuendo but it establishes a pattern of behavior.  Well at least as far as my hate club is concerned.”  She took a deep breath.  “I told you Roger's career really took off once we got to New York.  That first year I was super busy with school and work but that summer I had the money from the fellowship and took some time off to travel with him and do some writing.  We had a good time, went some interesting places, met a lot of different people.”

  “You've told me about this,” I pointed out.  

  “Yes, but I don't think you really understand,” Jane said.  “When I got to New York, well, you remember how I was.  Not exactly brimming with self-confidence or style. You made me start to understand I wasn't homely, awkward Plain Jane anymore but I still had a long ways to go. I started hanging around more with Roger's crowd. They showed me how to dress better, do my makeup.  I started going to the gym, got an expensive haircut, learned how to shop sample sales.  And I started getting attention.  Lots of attention.”

  Roger and I had both repeatedly told Jane how stunning she was but I guess at some point it finally sank in.  I was surprised that I felt a little disappointed in hearing it.  I guess I liked the idea of having all that beauty to myself. It felt sort of powerful.  I wasn't sure I liked what that said about me. I wasn't sure I liked the thought of a lot of men drooling over my Jane either. “What do you mean “lots of attention”?” I asked warily.

   She shrugged.  “Very simply, I let a few.. and I do mean a very few... very wealthy men take my broke, grad-student ass some very nice places and buy me pretty things. It sounds a lot more tawdry than it was.  But, add in the fact that I was also being taken places by Angus and trailing around on Roger's coattails, and the fellowship scandal....  It does make me look like a certain type of woman.”

   I took a breath.  I could see how she felt like it all looked bad, and Jared's name calling and hostility was making a little more sense. But it still seemed blown way out of proportion to me. I've seen some of the girls Jared kept company with over the years.  Some of them were a lot worse than anything Jane was telling me. “I know this isn't it, Jane,” I told her.  “Yes it looks bad but Jared is over the top and ….”

     I stopped when I saw the expression on her face.  It had been looking pinched and pained all through her reveals but now she looked absolutely heartbroken.  Her eyes were starting to brim with tears again and I could see her fighting to regain her composure.  Whatever the big secret was, we were there. I sat and waited, giving her time to get her words together.  Curiosity was eating me up, this story was winding all over the place, but there was a sense of dread about what might be coming.  I found I didn't want to hurry this along any more than she did.

   “Do you remember I said that Angus and I would go on vacations together, as friends? That sometimes he took girls he was dating, and I took my boyfriend once?” That had been during the first phone conversation we'd had, the one with me drunk in the hotel tub.  Kind of hard to forget.  “The trip I took my boyfriend with me for, Angus was with Lacey at that time. Roger actually came along too.  She would be super nice to me whenever Angus or the guys were around like she was absolutely my best gal pal, but the minute he turned his back she would turn into this raging cunt, making nasty comments and things. And when they were there she was still trying to undermine me, trying to embarrass me, hitting on my boyfriend.... she was jealous of the attention Angus paid me but also jealous of my boyfriend.  This is when she started hating me, that week on the island. When she met Jefferson.”

   Jane took a big shuddering breath as soon as she said his name, and I knew for certain we had come to the heart of the matter.  “See, Jefferson was an old friend, from our LA years.  You might remember us mentioning him, he's the one that came and cleaned the apartment out after we moved?”

   I did actually remember her talking about him a few times, mostly in reference to Roger being somewhere with him. I'd never met him though. She continued.  “So Jefferson was like two years younger than us, really smart and pretty amazing.  He really was only dating guys back then, he wasn't even on my radar.  But we all kept in touch and once when he came out to visit, things just sort of clicked between us.  We were together for about a year and a half.  It caught me by surprise really, I wasn't expecting it at all, honestly, I'd kind of been waiting on you, but this just sort of blossomed on its own and we were really good together.  When he was good that is.”

  The first tears fell then, and although she quickly got herself back under control, I worried where this story was going.  She hadn't mentioned Jefferson once in all the hours I had spent on the phone with her.  Hadn't mentioned a boyfriend at all other than Angus, and people don't tend to keep happy secrets. I thought that she had done the same thing I had, meaningless hookups while I waited to see if Jane and I would ever materialize again.  It surprised me to know that she had dated, and from the sounds of things, somewhat seriously.  This morning was just full of surprises.  I hadn't liked any of them yet.

   “See Jefferson had been battling depression for years, since he was a teenager.  He'd had a few bad bouts, had even been hospitalized once, but he was medicated and pretty stable when we were together.  There were some rough patches but he always pulled through them. I tried to be as supportive and understanding as possible.  I wanted him to know I was there for him. I thought he understood that.  I thought he knew he could come to me. I would have at least thought he understood he could come to Roger.  We'd all been friends for so long, we'd always looked out for each other..." she trailed off and took a deep breath before continuing.

   “He hit a really bad patch that summer.  He had always wanted to go to this particular resort in the Seychelles, but he was a bit of a workaholic and never got around to taking the time off.  I was really concerned about him and insisted he needed a vacation.  We went with Angus and Lacey and Roger came along with one of his temporary boyfriends.  It was supposed to cheer Jefferson up, help him get back on his feet.  I thought it did.  He seemed to be better after that, he started going out with friends again, was super productive at work, he was very attentive to me, he just seemed very connected and at peace. A month later he dumped me, out of the blue, no explanation.”

  “Janey...” I tried to reach over to take her hand but she brushed me off.

  “Twelve days after he dumped me hung himself.” She let loose a single, ragged sob that tore into my chest before clenching her teeth and pushing on.  “He said in the note that he was trying to give me some time to get over him before he did it, so I wouldn't hurt so bad or blame myself.  But he couldn't wait any longer.”

  There was so much anguish in her voice.  I knew this had to have happened at least several years ago, just from her history with Angus, but I could see how painful it was for her to tell me even now.  No wonder she hadn't brought it up on the phone.

  She continued. “If that's all there was to it I think Lacey would have left me in peace. But she was interested in Jefferson too, for the same reason she was interested in Angus. He was loaded. Which I know kind of makes me look bad too, but when we I met him, when Roger and I first became friends with him it wasn't that way.  His parents kicked him out when he was a teenager after he came out to them. He came out to L.A., tried to make something of himself.  Roger picked him up at a party, but when he heard his story... He ended up crashing on our couch for a while until he got a job and got on his feet.  He was such a scrapper, such a survivor.  He got into college, got his degree, worked really hard.  Started a business, made a fortune in the dot com boom. So yes, I had another rich boyfriend, but when I knew him, he was just the homeless kid who used to sleep in my living room sometimes.”

   She was all out crying now, and I could tell that no matter how this internet psycho had spun things Jane had very genuinely cared for Jefferson.  “He left everything to me and Roger. He didn't really have anyone else, like I said his family had disowned him years before that. I didn't want it, of course,” she added quickly. “I was too broken up over losing him and I just wanted him back. The money felt dirty.  Roger and I ended up spending a lot of it on starting a charity in his name, to help kids that had been kicked out by their families like Jefferson had.  But there was a lot of money. There was still a lot left.”

  Shit. I had been giving her so much grief about Angus, wondering things like who was paying for her hotel room and expensive vacations and it had been her all along.  “You don't need a rich husband do you?”

   She shook her head.  “Nope.” I wanted to ask some more questions but I could tell by the way she held herself this story still wasn't done. I let her finish. “Lacey was really nasty about the whole business.  Accused me of driving him to it so he'd leave me his money.”

  “That's fucked up.” I really wanted to meet this Lacey chick so I could knock her on her ass.  This vendetta she had against Jane was ridiculous, she had clearly kicked Jane when she was down and still wasn't satisfied. We were going to have to do something about her.

   “I know.  And I felt so guilty about not catching the warning signs, not being able to stop him, I let her get to me. I didn't handle any of it well.  Neither did Roger.  It sort of broke both of us.” Jane covered her face in her hands and once again I had to wait for her to compose herself. “He was so strong, so determined.  I'd seen him overcome so much.  I really thought he had beat it,” she said, eyes again brimming over with tears.  “It fucked me up so bad when he didn't. I started going out a lot.  I was just writing then, I didn't have a formal job, so I had lots of time to party.  And party I did. I danced my ass off and drank and smoked and popped and sniffed everything I could get my hands on.  Lacey made a lot of nasty accusations about celebrating Jefferson's death with his own money. Angus dumped her.  She blamed me.  Then one of the girls Roger and I had been partying with OD'd and Angus threatened to put us both in rehab if we didn't straighten up our shit.  I told him I wasn't really an addict, I was just self-medicating, but he was right, it had gone too far.  I quit.  I got a therapist. So did Roger. I started writing again. And then I started seeing Angus.  Actually dating him.  We had slept together numerous times over the years when we were both single but we actually started dating.  Lacey completely lost her shit.  Started stalking Angus.  He had to get a restraining order.”  Jane shrugged.  “I guess that's why she turned her attention on me, she can't get to him anymore.”

  “She's stalking you now,” I pointed out.  “If she knows this much shit, has got these people spying on your and slandering you, you need to get a lawyer.  This is scary stuff when you think about it, Jane, and it's probably only going to get worse.”

  “Yeah. As much as I hate to do it I think I'm going to call Angus and see if the lawyer that handled the stalking stuff with him will see what he can do about this mess.”  

   For the first time, I understood what Jane had meant when she said her relationship with Angus was complicated, when she had pointed out she had more of a history with him than she did with me.  He was intertwined with her life, he had been there for her through some really deep shit, he had been there when I wasn't.  Of course, she was reluctant to end things with him.  She may not have been in love with him but he was more than just some pretty schmuck who could buy her nice things, the way I had imagined it. I realized I had been judging her pretty unfairly too, it wasn't just Jared. I hadn't really been seeing Jane at all.

   “I never dreamed any of this was out there for other people to know about," she said miserably. “If I had I would have known what Jared's problem was right away, could have tried to reason with him instead of just amping the fight up higher. Fuck the internet and fuck Lacey and her crazy ass fans.”  Jane took my hand and looked at me. “Please believe me. I know to hear her tell it I'm a manipulative little money grubbing whore who sleeps her way to whatever she wants.  And I'll admit I have made some questionable decisions.  But I've never used anyone, at least not anyone that didn't want to be used.  I mean those guys that used to buy me things, back in the day, I was always upfront about exactly what our relationship was.” She chuckled softly.  “I learned that lesson the hard way but it only took me once.  Everyone on the same page.”

   I knew I had been that lesson.  And my heart hurt for Jane now.  Life had apparently had a lot more lessons for her and it seemed to determined to teach them all to her the hard way.  I could understand how bad this looked.  I understood why Jared was upset and afraid of having her anywhere near me.  But I knew he was wrong.  I had been blind to how much Jane had changed, how much she had been through, but I was certain what she was telling me was the truth.  I'd bet my arms on it. There were a lot of things Jane was good at.  Deception wasn't one of them.  

   “I believe you.  And I'm so sorry you had to go through all that.  I wish I could have been there for you.” I pulled her up against me and her head fell into my chest as a fresh round of sobs poured from her.  She thought no one knew.  She had been carrying this all around like a secret and I knew first hand how much secrets eat at people. And as I held her tightly I realized all her new bravado, her sophistication, her fancy clothes, the titles after her name, they were souvenirs of where she had been, like stamps on a passport. They didn't change who she was.  She was still gentle, sentimental Janey, who took everyone as they were, who loved adventure because her heart was open to it. And I was still her Shannon, her wild but cuddly rock god as she put it, even with all the new trappings of acclaimed records and fans and magazine articles. But we needed to start figuring out how to make all these new parts work together or we were going to lose the 'us' underneath that we valued so much. The first thing we were going to have to straighten out was Jared. He was the one person that had the power to take this whole ship down with him. Once Jane had composed herself again we got dressed, had some breakfast, and went to confront my brother.

@msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli  @maliciousalishious @snewsome756 @meghan12151977

#shannon leto fanfiction #jared leto fanfiction #shannon leto fic #jared leto fic #30 Seconds To Mars #Thunderbirds

[flourhurricane]

Love, Sexuality, and Relationship Headcanons: Farah Karim (OC)

Oh God, why did I think this was a good idea? *lol* No, I really loved these questions and wanted to answer them for Farah. The original post is right here, in case anyone’s interested in it.

------

💓 When did they have their first crush?

Farah was 10 or 11 when she had her first crush... on Nikola Tesla. She knew he was dead but that didn’t stop her from finding him extremely intelligent and “kind of cute.” 

❤ Have they ever been in love?

Yes. 

💕 How easily do they fall in love?

Farah’s a logical thinker. Her high IQ helps and hinders her when it comes to relationships. She knows and understands the differences between sexual attraction, infatuation, and actual love. That makes her try and rationalize her feelings. She’s had crushes, but being in love? It’s not a common occurrence.

💖 How do they say ‘I love you’ without really saying it? 

Farah likes fixing / making things for Deacon. She’ll repair his rifle, upgrade the scope. She’ll sew the holes in his backpack. She’ll fix his sunglasses when a screw loosens and a lens pops out. When he moves in with her, she builds a ceiling to floor bookcase for his books. And while she’s a horrible cook, she can boil water and make Blamco mac ‘n’ cheese, his favorite comfort food.

😕 Have they ever said ‘I love you’ without meaning it?

No. Always, in that moment, she has meant those words.

👀 Would they ever enter/have they ever entered into a friends with benefits relationship?

No. Farah can’t do casual sex. She needs to be in a serious relationship with someone.

💋 How old were they when they had their first kiss?

Farah was 15 years old and her first kiss was with her first boyfriend.

🚗 When did they go on their first date?

Again, 15. There aren’t many places to go on a date when living in the Institute, but the school did a good job sponsoring various activities for the students. Farah and her boyfriend went to a junior high dance. It wasn’t Farah’s idea of a fun date, but it was the first time anyone had asked her out.

🌹 What is their idea of a perfect date? 

When she lived in the Institute, Farah enjoyed going to lectures and spending time in the terrarium. (Come on, there HAD to be a terrarium with extinct flora inside.) Now that she lives in the Commonwealth, Farah’s ideal date is a quiet dinner with Deacon, where he feels safe and they can talk about anything.

🔑 At what point would they move in with a partner?

Again, Farah needs to be in a serious relationship with someone. If they’re not at least engaged, then there needs to be an understanding that moving in should ultimately lead to marriage. 

💟 What is their stance on PDA?

She’s cool with the basics. Kissing, holding hands, an arm around her waist or her shoulders. But it doesn’t happen much since Deacon is highly paranoid. (He relaxes some once they’re engaged / living together.)

🍵 Do they prefer to ask out a partner or be asked?

Farah doesn’t mind if someone asks her out, but she likes being the one who does the asking. Which is good because she had to ask Deacon out first.

👥 What is my muse’s sexual & romantic orientation? 

Farah is a cisgender female who is bisexual / biromantic.  

💦 When did they lose their virginity?

Farah was 21 years old when she lost her virginity. Her girlfriend at the time was a fellow grad student who was 5-6 years older, and it probably happened a few days before or after graduation.

⁉ Have they ever questioned their sexuality?

Not really. One nice thing about the Institute is their understanding that gender and sexuality is on a spectrum. Farah never had to worry about a society that expected her to be one thing, so there was never a reason to question it.

💡 What made them realize their sexuality?

Farah was watching a pre-war movie and paid close attention to an attractive high school couple on screen. She couldn’t figure out which she liked more: being the girl with her head on the guy’s shoulder, or imagining the girl with her head on her shoulder.

💌 When was their first serious relationship?

Her last relationship before escaping from the Institute. She was living with her girlfriend (the one she lost her virginity to) when her views toward synths began to change. 

💘 What was their most serious relationship?

That would be Farah’s relationship with Deacon. You know, if you call getting married and having children with someone a serious relationship. ;)

💝 What was their most recent serious relationship?

Again, Farah’s relationship with Deacon.

💗 What advice would they give a potential partner about making their relationship last if they could with no judgment?

Something all introverts can relate to: “Just because I don’t want to hang out with you doesn’t mean I don’t like you anymore. I just need some ‘me’ time.” 

💫 Have they ever been hit/struck by a partner?

No.

❌ What is the biggest mistake they make in their relationships?

Ugh, this is a hard question. The number of relationships Farah’s been in during her lifetime can be counted on one hand. It’s hard to notice a pattern of mistakes because each breakup happened for a different reason.

But the biggest mistake Farah made in her previous relationship was allowing herself to be taken for granted. When they moved in together, Farah put her girlfriend first. She focused on her internship, she supported her girlfriend’s career in Bioscience, but her emotional needs always fell to the wayside. 

💥 What was their worst relationship? 

Farah’s first relationship. It was also her first breakup, which is talked about in the 😭 question.

😓 Have they ever cheated on a partner?

No. 

😢 Have they ever been cheated on by a partner?

Also no.

💞 Would they ever enter/have they ever entered into a polyamorous relationship?

Nah, Farah’s would want her partner all to herself. *lol*

😭 When was their first breakup?

Farah was 15 years old. She thought she was madly in love with a boy her age. They dated for about 3 months and the relationship ended when her boyfriend became interested in someone else. He broke up with her in front of the other girl and Farah was left heartbroken.

💔 What was their worst breakup?

When Deacon broke up with Farah. They weren’t even a couple, but they were both aware of the feelings they had for each other. Deacon thought ending their relationship before it became too serious was the best way to protect her, and would it keep him from screwing things up. 

👍 What was their most amicable breakup?

It’d have to be with a girl she dated when she was 17. They lasted a few months but came to a point in their relationship where they realized they made better friends than partners. It was the easiest breakup Farah ever went through. 

🌙 Have they ever had a one night stand?

No. 

🍷 How far would they go on a first date? 

A goodnight kiss, if she really likes the person.

💍 Would they ever get married?

Oh yes. Marrying Deacon was one of the happiest days of her life.

💎 Would they rather propose or be proposed to? 

Farah’s a traditionalist and would like to be the one proposed to.

💒 What kind of wedding would they want to have?

Small, very private. There was a handful or witnesses (Claire, Danse, Sean, Curie, and Nick). Farah invited her parents but they refused to attend. An imam officiated the ceremony. There was a huge reception the next day (a surprise one organized by Claire), and I’m sure Hancock and Cait whined the whole time because there wasn’t any alcohol. 

👶 Do they want children?

There’s a difference between wanting children and deciding to bring them into the world. Farah always wanted children. When she was ostracized by most of the Institute because of her belief that synths were individuals and should be free, she didn’t want to raise a child in that environment. Where her child would be immediately judged and made an outcast because of her quote-unquote transgressions. 

But then Farah escaped to the Commonwealth, where she had more chances to be herself. The Commonwealth's a dangerous world, but at least, if Farah had children, they wouldn’t be subjected to as harsh judgement because of what she believes in. Also, with Deacon, the Railroad, and Claire and her family, her kids would have a large family that supported them.

🍼 Could a partner ever change their mind on children?

No, no one but Farah can change Farah’s mind. (Though you can bet she noticed how great Deacon is with kids. *lol*)

#oc: farah karim #fallout ocs #my ocs #fallout #fallout 4

[writebethany]

Do Astra and Vega ever try to plan a surprise birthday for Alex ?

Previous Parts

Astra tries to plan a surprise birthday party on several occasions when Vega is younger. Except Vega is a babbly little girl and somehow the plans always came to light before the party’s date and the surprise party just turned into a party. It got to the point that Alex just laughed at Astra and said multiple times on different years “Better luck next year.” So Astra takes a few years off of the whole surprise party train and just plans something with Alex that usually involves a god awful amount of food, beer, whiskey, cake, and juice for Vega and inviting over a gathering of Alex’s friends from the DEO. Somehow those years always end in poker that somehow devolves into strip poker when everyone has way too much to drink. Astra almost always wins because she’s not drunk and Kara never plays because she’s too embarrassed to play. Alex, on the other hand, being the drunkest of all of them, almost always loses. The parties usually end quickly after that last round and Astra takes advantage of Alex’s rather unclothed state for some birthday sex. Alex doesn’t mind. She might even lose on purpose. She does know how to hold her liquor after all…

By the time Astra thinks to plan a surprise party Vega is actually old enough to understand that a secret means that she can’t tell Alex the second she walks in the door, which is about eleven for Vega. She really is an honest child. She reminds Astra of what Kara was like when she was the same age. It both makes her ache for the parts of Kara’s childhood she missed and thankful that she’s here for Vega.

Vega’s actually the one who approaches Astra about throwing a surprise party. It’s Alex’s fortieth birthday and Alex wants to pretend that it isn’t happening because forty?? Holy shit when did she get so old? Just yesterday she was drinking herself under the table in grad school. Yesterday damn it. So she hasn’t said anything about planning a birthday party, but Vega’s not about to let that slide.

“Ieiu,” Vega says, on one of the days it’s Astra’s turn to pick her up from school. “Mommy needs a party.”

Astra turns to her, setting their things down at the door. “I agree, so what kind of party, darling one?” Astra’s curious about what Vega would pick.

“Not something ridiculous, but also something different. Her last few parties have been at home. We should do something elsewhere.” 

Astra hums at that suggestion. Vega is right. Forty is a big milestone here on earth. From what she’s learned about human culture it’s a milestone that usually involves a lot of teasing, but that isn’t her style, nor Alex’s. She is sure enough people at the DEO will take care of that anyway.

“What do you suggest?” Astra asks.

Vega lights up and pulls out an entire folder of ideas. She’s clearly been thinking about this for a while. Astra’s heart melts a little bit at the thought that their little girl cares for them to go through so much trouble. 

“Well, not anything super girly, so not a dance party probably. Melissa said her mom had one for one of her birthdays a few years back, but that’s not Mommy so.” She flips the page over and holds it up to Astra. “I think if we got a bunch of people to do this it would be fun. I think everyone at the DEO would be on board. Uncle Winn totally would too. And Aunt Kara and Carter. Not Cat though. And Mommy would get to pick her team because she’s the birthday girl.” She pulls out a brochure. “I looked at their website. They do birthday parties, everyone’s rentals are covered in the costs and you get a whole day to play. There’s even a package that includes cake and ice cream, but I think we should probably bring our own considering.”

Astra takes the brochure and she smiles. Oh. Oh this is perfect. Alex will love this. In fact, this would make a birthday present easy as pie to figure out. She admits, she was a little stumped before considering the only thing that Alex really ever wants is a bigger gun and a nice bottle of whiskey and after a while that becomes boring to fall back on, especially for Astra as her girlfriend. She should be more creative than others, or at least she feels so. But oh this. This is good.

The trick is to get Alex there without her suspecting anything. It’s easy enough, really. Astra asks Alex out to breakfast to celebrate her birthday in the quiet way she wanted and Alex agrees because why pass up food? Astra just smiles at Alex and leads her down to the motorcycle that Alex still has despite now having a reasonable family sedan too, and gets on. Alex is a bit insulted that she doesn’t get to drive her baby, but gets on behind Astra once Astra pouts a bit and says that they’re going to a new place and it would be easier to go if she drove. Alex mutters that she’s driving back as Astra starts the motor.

Astra drives them out of the city and to a suburb that actually has more green than concrete. Alex is obviously confused considering Astra can feel her head swiveling back and forth, but before she can shout a question to Astra, they’re there. And so is everyone else. As soon as the engine of the bike kicks off they all jump out from behidn their cars and yell “SUPRISE” and Alex definitely is surprised for once because damn how did they pull this one off?

Vega comes forward with a smile and a long box and hands it over to Alex. “Happy birthday mommy.”

Alex takes the gift from Vega and rips into it, still on the back of the bike, but honestly she’s still five when it comes to presents. Inside is a sleek, top of the line paintball gun and Alex practically drools over it because damn is it a peice of art. And she can’t fucking wait to use it. No wonder they ended up in the middle of nowhere. All the best paintballing courses were out of the city.

Alex looks back up at Vega. “I love it sweetie. Do I get to kick some ass with it today?” She already knows the answer from Vega’s hopping around.

“Yeah!”

Alex swings off the bike and looks at the crowd from the DEO plus Kara, James, Carter and oddly enough Cat who looks about as pleased as Alex herself is. “All right fuckers, who’s ready to get their ass kicked?” She hefts up her new gun with a smile.

A chorus of “No way, Danvers,” comes from the crowd, but Alex knows they know what’s about to happen.

They all go to get ready and Alex picks her team strategically. Astra of course, and Vega because two Kryptonians are better than one. Vega being as small and as quick as she is will be handy for flag stealing. Then there’s Vasquez because she’s the best shot the DEO has, Lucy because she’s right behind Vasquez on the score card, J’onn because he’s a fucking shapeshifter, Winn because if she doesn’t pick him he’ll pout, and then finally, Cat because the way she’s holding that paintball gun shows that she knows that the fuck she’s doing. And then the game is off.

Alex’s team wins. Not really just wins. They fucking slaughter the other team. Every single one of them is out by the time Alex lazily takes their flag and walks back to their base. They play another time with the same result. The teams get mixed up again just to make the next games a little more interesting, which they were interesting before with a field full of government trained operatives, but the games actually become a tighter race now. Alex’s team still wins every time as it should be.

By the time that they get around to cake and ice cream and the pot luck dinner that sort of happened more by accident than planning, everyone is sore from running and getting shot, but they’re all laughing and smiling and the losers are jostling the winners good naturedly.

Astra walks over to Vega who’s hanging out with Carter learning how to clean and reassemble a paintball gun and she smiles. “I think you picked well, darling one.” She looks over at Alex who’s glowing with happiness and triumph and sighs. Rao, how she loves her family.

Vega looks up at her with her own smile, the one thing that reminds her Non, but not in a painful way. It’s a reminder that Non was once something good too, as their daughter is so, so good. “Yeah, I think it went well. Is there any more cake left?”

Astra just laughs and hands over the last piece and ruffles Vega’s hair before walking back to Alex’s side.

next part

#general danvers #alex danvers #astra in-ze #supergirl #alex x astra #vega danvers #literally everyone at the DEO playing paintball would be ridiculous can you even imagine how serious that would get #it would be great #Anonymous

[drewxmay]

Contestshipping Masterpost Part 12 and a half,12 and a whole, and 13 - Something I don’t know the name of, Odd Pokemon Out, and Spontanios Cumbuskin

The next episode is a Harley episode, but Bulbapedia says somthing about the ending in which May recives a letter and a rose from Drew (even though he was not seen in the episode) imforming her of another contest she can enter, so I'm thinking of skipping this one, and maybe the next one.

Also I'm mad at Bulbapedia for this incorrect entree on "odd pokemon out".

May is holding the rose and the letter she receives in the previous episode while on a boat. She apparently considers these two items as sentimental to her. As May already knows quite well what Drew means with the roses at this point in time now, her keeping and looking at Drew's romantic token that appeared in a prior episode is quite significant. However this is not necessarily a romantic hint, since there is a possibility that May is just taking "Drew's" entry in the next contest as a serious rivalry.

Bulbapedia your wrong. She still hasn't even thought about having a romantic relationship with drew and the following and past episodes show that she hasn't thought about it, and doesn't know what the roses mean. T.T

AND THEN WE HAVE SPONTANIOS CUMBUSKIN. this episode inspired me to make this masterpost so I'm just going to copy and paste, so it won't fit in as well as the past summaries I gave to episodes, which is why under each of the thinsg that I had said before I knew as much about contestshipping, I'll put a new comment, explaining what I think of it now.

MY BLUSHING CHART I SPENT A FULL HOUR ON THIS PLEASE OH PLEASE JUST READ IT (or maybe it is an episode review that older me is reviewing? this is not a bluching chart)

0:00 (now me) and we begin the episode with no Drew, and May is happy. Great. 1:22 (now me) well I thought that you already knew 1:34 (now me) no he did not send that. and he just told you. Wait why am I tagging this? 1:40 Well that was quick... (now me) well yes if you don't count the time that drew was off screen and the theme song, then it only took 30 or so seconds!

1:54 (now me) or you just followed May. Becuase you do that.

now me :skips team rocket:

2:49 (now me) DIIIEEEEEEE

3:00 (now me) Naw I'm fine

3:31 (now me) Munchlax: Well that rose isn't from Drew so it isn't for you! It's me me!

3:45 (now me) May did you forget that Drew has fangirls?

3:58 (now me) I'm pretty sure most of Drew's fangirls woul kill to see him in a swimsuit. Also artists whoa re drawing this give Drew a towl ebcuase they refuse to draw nipples.

4:03 Okay, this is was Drew normally thinks of people like this. They are fangirls and that is cool. He doesn't care that much, and really, she doesn't mean barely anything to him. Also, I'm not counting her blushings anymore, just saying. (now me) I am though!

4:21  (now me) Drew is acting how most people react after I draw them art.

4:34 (now me) People ask why he is mean to May but nice to her. I already said this before but I guess I'll just copy and paste a post.   Everybody seems to misunderstand Drew’s character, thinking that he is trying to make may upset, but he really isn’t. Let me explain.  Drew tries to make May want to learn more, For example, let’s take the episode where Drew was introduced. In that episode he was definitely watching her before they noticed him, so he had seen May training on the beach and decided to follow her, seeing that she could improve, and he knew how to improve. At the beginning Drew seems to be poking fun of how little ability she has, but this was actually so that she wanted to become better, and it works! For example: Who What When Where Wynuat. During the episode, they find Leechy berries, and because May didn’t know what they were, Drew tried mocking her of not knowing what they were so that she wanted to learn, and by the end of the episode�� it worked! Many of the things that May knows is because Drew taught her. May would be too stubborn to really just take advice, and here is another reason why he does it. In “Three Sides to Every Story” (an episode that I believe to be referencing Contestshipping) an Electikid is making fun of (a Pokemon I don’t know how to spell’s name but it is something like Merrow) Merrow and Piplup thinks that he is just being mean, but during the episode we find out that Electikid is attacking her because he has a crush on her. Brock says, “Sometimes when a boy likes a girl, they will go out of their way to make fun of them” This is why Drew makes fun of May. He likes her, and it seems to be a great way to teach her to be a better coordinator. I have recently watched through a bit more of the episodes. At the first grand festival, Harley tells May to go through the entire Appeal round and then battling rounds with just silver wind. Drew knows that Harley is just trying to make may loose, and his first attempt to convince her not to do so was him just telling her it was a bad idea. He could’ve easily made fun of her for doing that and it would have definitely worked, but he decided not to and it didn’t work.   Drew was nice to briana becuase he didn't need to make fun of her in order for him to teach her, nor did he like her. He also didn't find her that interesting so he barley even tried to teach her during the episode. Now you know. 4:42 Drew you blushed at her bad pun. This is what happens when you like somebody. WHATS GOING ON BETWEEN YOU TWO? T^T

(now me) finally! we have the 3rd nickname. We have Mr.Perfect, Mr.Know-it-all, and Mr.Rose! (also thank you roserade)

4:56 OKAY JUST. THIS IS SO OUT OF CONTEXT. JUST THIS LOOKS LIKE IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT. WHAT WOULD YOU THINK IF YOU HEARD TWO PEOPLE SAY THIS? JUST. OMG. WOW. (me now) same reaction. It was so out of context, the writers just wanted to proove how canon it is.

5:09 (now me) Suuuuure he is Max. He also likes your sister.

5:16 I'm talking about this at the end, if you want to know why this is so important, read the rest and read the end. (now me) older me you forgot to discuss this scene at the end. I guess I have to. She's a noob.

There done.

okay but seriosly, nothing really needs to be said about this scene, there are a few others we need to mention later though.

5:53 Max was the best in this episode

:skips the part without may:

7:13 This has nothing to do with what I was saying buuuut... Wow this show sure does love to milk that Rocketshipping (James x Jessie) meme XDDDD (me now) James: looks at what seems to be Jessie with hearts for eyes: GROOVE MIME.JR!

“GROOVE MIME JR!”

7:57 (me now) Drew say that to May so that she can learn... or can she hear you? nah.

8:12 (me now) You beleive in your crush.

9:23 (me now) sirkit evolves into Masqurain. Briana is obsessed.

11:02 (me now)  Max why you askin?

11:22 Brock ships it. (me now) yes he does. Mr.Flirt finally gets it.

11:40 And this scene. As I said, I will explain why it is so important at the end. (me now) fine, I'll explain.

May has actually never thought about her and Drew being together before, right now she is finally considering it, but she had just started thinking baout it so we havn't notten that much development on it yet.

11:53 Blushing May. She has never thought about it. This is also what I will talk about at the end. this is about as important as the last one I will point out before explaining. (me now) but I JUST explained.

12:07 You kicked Harley out rewrote the script and made it your own Jessie. Change the words but some of the meaning still lies in there that Harley would say.

:skips the battle:

15:00 (me now) Oh look she also has a vibrava that evolves into flygon. Are you seriosly telling me that she isn't obsessed?

17:19 (me now) Drew hopes that May will win becuase he likes her

19:00 This scene. I will make more time frames on it just pay attention. (me now) No I will delete them off of this post so that I can.

19:14 (me now, the rest is me now) Teaching and crushing on May

19:25 And people got confused as to why is is nice to Briana

19:43 Ecxuse me Mr.Flirt?

19:47 This scene is so important.

Imma explain it right now

“I’m hoping to see you back here next year too May.” - Rhapsody in Drew  in Advance Battle “Hey May, just two more ribbons.” - Spontaneous Combusken in Battle  Frontier.   May never forgot what Drew said after the Grad Fesival. She never forgot how kiindly he had said that to her. Right now she is blushing like "oh my god am I falling in love" blushing. She had been thinking about what Briana had said and hen Drew spoke to her again like this she was reminded of both what briana had said about them having feelings for eachother, and what'd happened after the grand fesival. She is legitimatly starting to fall in love with Drew. Drew didn't forget what'd happened after the grand Fesivle either. He actually reminded her that she needed two mroe ribbons before the next grand festival, the one he was talking about when he had said "I'm hoping to see you here next year" (he ment another grand fesival not the hoen one) Their first serios romantic moment was on the beach after the grad fesivle, and now we are here again with a completly new revelation on May's part. Instead of being mystified at Drew's sudden kinda words she is sitting their, legitimatly like a schoolgirl in love with her crush standing in front of her. Compare the first scene from Advanced battle to this scene. There has been character development, and there will be more. Actually to be completly honest no other ship in pokemon has even come close to being as canon as this. Not Pokeshipping, not irakishipping, and not even armorshipping where they actually kissed. Pokeshipping came close, but it was more of a joke to the show, and I did see them try on irakishipping but it still didn't come close to contestshipping. Also before all of you aurmorshippers say that it was canon, just compare which one was better written. armoreshipping was just serena having a cruch on ash. That is poor writing. Contestshipping through actually has aspects of real life relationships, and it developed so damn well. If they brought these two characters back, either they would have completly ruined Drew's complex personality and just make him a jerk, or lets say that they actually wrote him the way that he is. They would have needed contestshipping. Okay that is all. the next episode is

#contestshipping #drew #may and drew #drew x may #pokemon drew #may x drew #May #pokemon may #masterpost #contestshipping masterpost

[airmidtheawakened]

The Maine Event, Part 3

When we last left off, SiSi and I were hiding from hordes of the undead while Saki was watching over an unconscious Lipsy. Thankfully for us the following morning was much less exciting. SiSi and I trudged back to the hotel once the sun was safely lodged in the sky, flopped down on our beds, and passed out for a solid three hours.

It was glorious.

Meanwhile, once Lipsy woke up he and Saki did actual productive stuff. Apparently one of the guys who used to be in the Queen’s Guard had a little brother who was still in town. A guy named Tom who worked for the fire department. He was happy to talk about his old club days with the boys, and even offered to let them see the Guard’s treehouse hideaway. They made plans to head out later that afternoon, giving the boys time to head back and retrieve SiSi and myself from the hotel. Did we appreciate being dragged out of our nap? No. But the boys came with an offering of pastries and the promise of getting oggle a cute firefighter, so we forgave them.

And hot damn, were they right on the money when they told us Tom was cute. He had a mop of curly brown hair down to his chin, and mismatched blue/green eyes. And don’t even get me started on his muscles…

Anyways, Tom took us all to the treehouse he and the Queen’s guard used to hang out in when they were kids. Now when I say treehouse, I mean and actual, full-sized house. This thing was massive. Apparently it’d been there since the town itself was founded. If you’re wondering how it lasted that long the answer is magic.

The little area of the woods it was in had layers upon layers of magical protections and wards to keep danger out. Heck, you couldn’t even get into the treehouse without have gone through a special initiation ritual. The ladder would turn super slippery if you climbed up it, which I learned upon trying and promptly falling flat on my ass in a puddle of mud.

It was honestly kind of worth it, though, because then Tom gave me a piggyback ride up the ladder. He was such a sweetheart.

Inside was every kid’s dream; rooms full of books and toys and cushions. I asked Tom why the Queen’s Guard stopped being a thing. He said kids these days were too interesting in other things, like computers and whatnot. Which I guess is a fair point, but I mean, *come on,* how does that even stack up against a freakin’ magic treehouse? They’re really missing out.

Tom grabbed the Guard’s old journal from one of the bookshelves and a mask that looked like the one from the Guardians of the Veil’s insignia. There was an inscription on the back, something about the seat of the town and a navigator who perished in light. Tom said there was an old legend about a treasure in the town, and his brother had found the mask while searching for it. They day was already looking better than the previous one, and now we had an honest-to-God treasure hunt to head off on. With a cute boy tagging along. It’s the stuff dreams are made of, I tell you.

We gave the book and the mask to Lipsy, who figured out pretty quickly that the riddle was referring to a painting in the town’s museum. So we all booked it over there, where said painting had an inscription on the frame that directed us to a bible verse. Meanwhile Lipsy’s also reading the Guard’s journal, which had old text that had been erased underneath everything the kids had written in it. Lipsy used his matter magic to make out the indentations in the paper and *then* translated it, cuz everything was written in Spanish.

Lipsy’s freakin’ great. I don’t know what we’d do without him.

The journal told the story of the founders of the town, a cabal of mages who came into possession of a magic ring called the “Siren’s Song.” They sailed here from Spain the the 1800s and founded the town to protect the ring, which allows the wearer to send people and objects back and forth through Twilight at will. They were afraid the mage Consilium in their home country would use the ring as a weapon. When it’s not being controlled, though, it just sort of goes haywire and makes pockets of Twilight all willy-nilly. Moros mages can sense the ring as a song in their head, hence the name.

All the while the cabal was being stalked by a banisher - a mage whose awakening was corrupted somehow and who seeks to wipe all magic from the face of the earth. This banisher managed to strip the founders’ magic from them, but not before they used their combined magic to send the ring forward through time so that their descendents could find and protect it. They established the Queen’s Guard for that purpose, hoping any mages who might awaken in the group would take up the charge.

I don’t think they were expecting the Queen’s Guard to have disbanded by the time the ring actually finished it’s trip. Whoops.

It was getting late in the day by the time we finished at the museum. We decided to pick up the search again the next morning. I managed to wrangle myself a dinner date with Tom, who was totally into me. He took me to this nice seafood place and then we sat out on a dock by his apartment and chatted over beers. I’ll spare you the dirty details, but I totally tapped that. In hindsight that was a really bad idea. I was young and adventurous and hadn’t gotten laid in a solid seven months. Who could blame me for not thinking straight?

The sex was great, don’t get me wrong, but afterwards someone broke into Tom’s apartment and tried to skewer us on a sword. It was bizarre. We heard a noise in the apartment. Tom got up to investigate. I stayed in his room and tried to reach out with my mage sight to pick up on any other life forces in the place, but I didn’t sense anything. I thought maybe something had just fallen off a shelf, but then Tom shouted something. I ran to check on him and came face to face with a bearded, blade-wielding douchebag.

Tom was knocked out on the floor. I grappled the intruder and tried to wrestle him into submission. I was doing a pretty good job of it too. Tom came around, though, and conked him on the head with a baseball bat. I was grateful for the help.

Tom, however, was freaking the fuck right out. He did not take well to how calmly I was taking the situation. I tried to explain that I’d had some experience defending myself, but that was apparently too weird for him. He started doubting the cover story Lipsy was using about researching small town traditions for a grad school paper. And I couldn’t tell him the truth, which just upset him more when I tried to dodge his questions.

So yeah, banging Tom was not the best plan. I was pretty pissed at the time - it wasn’t like I ASKED to be attacked in the middle of the night - but who could blame him? I’ve learned my lesson since. No more sex on the job for Airmid.

I called my cabal and Tom called the Police. The sheriff was not pleased to see my friends and I were in more trouble, but she couldn’t really do much other than be very disappointed with us, as she cuffed the unconscious assailant and threw him in her squad car.

My cabal informed me that the man was probably a banisher, which is why I couldn’t sense him with my mage sight. They’re kind of like dead zones when it comes to magic. They can use it, but they can’t be sensed magically. I was thoughtful enough to grab some strands of his hair, though, so we could scry on him with no problems. A direct physical connection like that is solid gold when it comes to casting from a distance. Chances were the banisher was also after the ring, so we had to find it before he inevitably broke free from the cops and came after us.

I think that’s a story for next time, though. There’s traps and riddles and danger galore, so you’re not gonna want to miss it.

See you next time, folks!

#IC #Session recap #Mage the Awakening #Mage: the Awakening #Onyx Path #NWoD #Word of Darkness