#(assuming that wasn't a rhetorical question - sorry if it was!)

[jupitermelichios]

So you asked about Sterek and I’ve been thinking a lot about the ship lately because i’m 250k words into a sterek fic rn but I’m not primarily a sterek shipper, so I’ve done a lot of dissecting. (Feel free to ignore me if the question was rhetorical though!)

Sterek as a ship first appeared in season 1 largely, I think, because season 1 had a very small cast compared to later seasons. People loved Stiles (Scott is my baby boy and I love him, but he’s not the type of character fandom™ gravitates towards, he’s sweet and earnest and very morally upright, and the really big characters in western fandoms tend to be much more of the moraly-grey wisecracking cynical with a heart of gold variety, especially in the 90s and 00s, which is an archetype Stiles slots into perfectly). And because they loved him, they wanted someone to ship him with, and the options were limited. There was Scott (which required splitting up him and Allison, plus childhood besties to lovers has its fans but it’s never been the most widely popular trope in fandom), Peter (honestly, i have to admit my bias here, i love steter, because i’m a sucker for messy bitches being dramatic at one another, but understandably a lot of people didn’t like the age difference or the evilness. Plus season 1 Peter doesn’t have many opportunities to be fun, that comes later, so he wasn’t yet a fan favourite character the way he’d become in season 2 and 3). Then there's Jackson (there are people who ship them, and they have at least spoken in canon, but there’s very little in the show for shippers to get their teeth into with it), or Lydia (and as you noted, this one is a real slow burn of a ship, and in season 1 especially there’s 0 indications Lydia even knows Stiles exists, never mind thinks he’s cute. plus fandom was really going through a moment where het ships were sidelined hard, which counted against them). That leaves Derek kind of by default, but also Tyler Hoechlin is an extremely beautiful man, they have some good scenes together, Derek spends a weird amount of the season in Stiles’s bedroom… there’s not a lot, but there is stuff for fandom to squee over in season 1.

(Also while there was a tendency to age stiles up to 18 in fanfic, that was usually much more to do with him not being underage than to reduce the age difference. I definitely think there’s a generational difference in terms of how fans think about age-dfference in ships, and it’s a way less common squick for people my age and older than it seems to be for younger fans. Just one of those cultural shift things, i guess. But that meant that while a lot of people disliked the age difference between stiles and peter, because he’s old enough to be his dad, the 6 year age difference between stiles and derek just didn’t really register for most fans, and wouldn’t be seen as a problem if it did, the way it might if the show aired today.) 

So Sterek is the biggest slash ship kind of by default, but it’s in no way the overwhelming majority ship the way it would become later. The Sciles shippers were a close second back then.

The reason Sterek became the juggernaut it did is basically all season 2. Season 2 queerbaited in a way no show had done before, and honestly no show would do since apart from BBC Sherlock. There was never any chance Jeff would give us a queer MC, but there were a bunch of things that made people think he would - Stiles has so many jokes about or references to him maybe being bi, Stiles and Derek get a lot of scenes together including Stiles saving Derek’s life, Matt jokes about them being a cute couple, the show hosted a fanfic competition that allowed shippy entries (even if the winner ended up being a genfic), best ship polls being run by magazines and commercial websites were briefly a big thing around this time and the show-runners pushed hard for fans to vote sterek basically any time it was included in one, and there was the infamous boat incident (if you’re not aware, the show got Dylan OBrien and Tyler Hoechlin to film a short video encouraging fans to vote for the show in the teen choice awards which involved them cuddling in a decidedly romantic way on a boat. It was very weird and uncomfortable - they’re actors obviously, pretending to be romantic is like half their job, but they were basically playing rpf-fic versions of themselves rather than characters which is an insane thing to ask an actor to do - but it made a lot of fans think the show-runners were at least open to the idea of making Stiles and Derek canon).

This also lead to some very heated ship wars, because people genuinely thought there was a chance sterek might be canonised, and that the more support there was for it online, the more likely that was, and so non-sterek ships were seen as a threat to that. That made shipping non-sterek ships unfun for a lot of fans, especially fans of het ships involving stiles (this was before fandom as a whole realised hating female characters for being female was a bad look, so when malia came along she was absolutely reviled. I lost readers on a sterek fic because i tagged her a side character with 0 sexual or romantic intereactions with stiles, that’s how bad it was. people would literally refuse to read stuff in which she even appeared) and people felt like supporting sterek might actually make a difference in the world in terms of lgbt representation, which definitely helped its popularity.

By the time season 3 started airing, the ship had gained so much momentum that even though the characters have a lot fewer interactions in season 3, and barely interact from season 4 onwards, and Derek and Stiles both get other love interests (terrible and then good but kind of forgettable in Derek’s case with Jennifer and then Braeden, and absolutely stellar in the case of Stiles and Malia, my actually all time favourite teen wolf ship), there was more than enough fan-created content to keep feeding it, and so the ship didn’t whither the way a smaller ship might once the canon content dried up. Who needed canon when shipping it unlocked one of the biggest areas of the map on AO3?

Also I don’t want to make it sound like people only shipped it because there was no other options and Hoechlin is hot. There are legitimate reasons to like it as a ship, even if it’s not for everyone (but what ship is?). Derek needs someone who’ll treat him well while also not taking any of his bullshit, and that’s definitely something Stiles would provide. Stiles is, despite his complaining, very reliable, which is something Derek really hasn’t had in his life since the fire, and I think it’s something he’d really value. Although Derek tends to go to Scott for help, it’s much more often Stiles who actually provides it, and there’s definitely some trust there, which is a big deak for Derek. Derek’s healthiest romantic relationship by an insane margin is with Braeden, who helps him while also calling him a dumbass and he seems to not just need but enjoy that, he likes that she calls him out without being cruel, which again is definitely Stiles’s approach. Stiles is extremely kind, but he’s almost never nice. Plus I am not the first person to point out that there are some similarities in appearance between Stiles and Braeden, so if Derek’s into dudes it doesn’t feel like a stretch to say Stiles might be physically his type.

From Stiles’s perspective, Derek and Malia have a lot in common, and we know from that relationship that Stiles enjoys Malia’s bluntness, and he’s not off-put by trauma or emotional rawness, which are all things that are also true of Derek. Plus I always got the impression a lot of what Stiles enjoyed about Malia is that he can be dark with her in a way he couldn’t with most of their other friends (this is also why I’m pissed Stiles and Alison have almost no relationship in canon, Stiles needs Scott’s positivity and strong moral compass, but he also needs someone in his life he can joke about murder with, which he could have done with Alison if Jeff wasn’t a coward!). He seems to enjoy people being bitchy - he likes that in Lydia, and even if he hates Peter, he always gives the impression that he’s having fun hating him - which is Derek’s default interaction style in season 2 especially. Everyone Stiles is attracted to could be reasonably described as intense, which Derek also definitely is, especially in seasons 1-3. And, similarly to Stiles and Braeden, there’s a lot of hints that Stiles thinks Danny is attractive, and Danny and Derek both have a tall dark and handsome thing going on, so Derek being physically attractive to Stiles doesn’t feel out of line with canon.

They also seem to have some kind of prior connection that’s never discussed - Stiles recognises Derek instantly in the first episode, even though it’s been years and Derek’s changed a lot, and again when Derek gets de-aged, which a lot of people interpreted as Stiles having a long-standing crush on Derek that began when he was a kid. And despite their age difference, the show consistently treats them like peers in a way it mostly doesn’t with Stiles and Derek’s betas, and Derek doesn’t usually treat Stiles like a kid, which is interesting because he does with Scott. There is canonically an age difference there, but they don’t feel (at least to me) like there is because of the way they interact.

It’s definitely not for everyone (as evidenced by the fact that a significant portion of people who ship it write/hc/read versions of Stiles who are pretty radically ooc. I’m firmly ship and let ship, if it makes people happy more power to them, but it’s always confused me because the fanon version of stiles is, at least my mind, actually less compatible with Derek, because they tend to soften him a lot, and that lack of softness is exactly why I think they’d work together) but there is stuff in canon to get your teeth into as a shipper, even if the reason it’s the juggernaut it is today has more to do with the moment in time when it appeared and the ways Jeff Davis interacted with the fandom than the ship itself.

TEEN WOLF BRAINROT

so, i've been rewatching teen wolf bc apparently netflix hates us europeans and it will be removed on may 31st and here are a few of my opinions TM

scott is actually a very good main character. listen, i got into this fandom when i was older, so i probably don't understand why there is this trend of hating scott, but he's a valid MC! he shows an example of positive masculinity that is honestly so refreshing to see in modern media: he's kind, compassionate, always optimistic but not stupidly so, has an amazing relationship with his mum AND his friends, he's not afraid to show emotions and cry. honestly a very healthy, albeit traumatised, young man. yes, he did stupid stuff for the girl he liked, and yes he misjudged a few situations, but please, remind me, how old is he supposed to be? 16? 17? 18? yeah. i did worse things at his age.

scott and stiles come from working class families!!! they have money problems!! it's honestly so refreshing to see teenagers discuss money in a supernatural/fantasy tv show. it doesn't usually happens and I've found it refreshing because it's something that usually happen between irl teenagers.

i don't get sterek. really, really don't. maybe it's bc i've watched the show through a gen z lens (meaning the media and the culture (read: THE INTERNET) when i watched the show were influenced more by gen z than millennials' values) but i really don't get it. and the age difference makes me uncomfortable. (same thing with parrish and lydia, SHE'S A MINOR DUDE, there's a reason people don't like cops istg) SOMEONE EXPLAIN STEREK TO ME PLEASE

in fics stiles and scott's personalities are often swapped: stiles is the caring one, the pack mum, scott is the one with homicidal tendencies. like, my dudes, the fact that scott is a GOOD person through and through is the reason he's a true alpha. also the reason we, as viewers, like stiles is bc he's sarcastic and more morally ambiguous than scott (not really, but you get it, he cares more about himself and his immediate friends, the others can die, scott instead want to save everyone period), it's like taking away the thing that makes stiles stiles

malia and stiles were SO cute, i didn't expect to like them so much, but when they broke up my heart shattered

stydia is everything i want in a ship and i will not accept any criticism on it, it's literally one of the only straight ships i like. you have the slowburn, the malewife x girlboss trope, the he fell first but she fell harder, the mutual pining. it literally checks all of my boxes

isaac was such a cool character and he and scott had an amazing dynamic, like come on, they had something going on between them

kira is a badass. that's it, that's the comment. i like her so much

derek's development is one of the best. i couldn't stand him in season 1, but in s4 he became one of my favourite characters. but i think this has more to do with the fact that they aged him up? he was supposed to be in his early 20s in s1, but then they aged him up in s3? well, anyway, i liked how he literally wised up, stepping into the role of a teacher and guide instead of a leader, it suits him so much better (and i'm sure it's less stressful)

peter is such a charmingly evil bastard. i hate him, but i love him at the same time.

thiam is the best ship in the show, i don't care if it's canon. i've read airplanes, it's canon to me

we would've liked (simped for) s5 theo more if he had the same haircut he had in 6b. he was just stupidly hot.

allison and lydia should've kissed and so malia and kira. give me my wlw couples.

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 34:

He pulled the first card, looking at it before he turned it so Agatha could see it too. "The Horse Drawn Carri..."

"The Chariot?" Agatha interrupted him, clearly wanting to get this over with. Plus, it was clear that Billy was not as knowledgeable about it as he claimed to be. "It's literally written on the card."

You looked at your lover. "Let him do it, Agatha. Unless you want to give it a try, " you scolded, knowing fully well how she looked down upon the tarot cards and tarot reading in general.

She would often call it lesser magic or circus tricks.

"Fine," she mumbled and motioned for Billy to continue.

Billy cleared his throst. "Right. So, obviously, you're

leaving somewhere behind, and you have these sphinxes with you, and they represent your... your... mysteriousness."

Agatha placed her elbows on the table and interlocked her fingers before resting her chin on them. "You have a real gift."

"This card hasn't really come up much for me." He confessed and placed the card on one of the carved empty spaces.

Immediately, the sound of metallic objects clanging with one another made you all look up; only then noticing the dozens upon dozens of hanged swords; attached to the ceiling by some sort of string?

You were not sure.

You could not see any details from that distance, but you were quite sure they were not props or fake. Something was telling you that they were real and very sharp swords, positioned in a way that would finish off any one of you.

Billy shallowed hard. "I'll try another one." He drew the next card. "Seven of Swords."

You could not help but scoff faintly. "At least you're on theme." You commented and earned a look from him, clearly not happy with your words. "Sorry," you apologised and gently lifted your hands up as a sign of surrender.

"I know this one. It's about deception and betrayal." He started to explain. "But it's reversed.

So that means the opposite. Are you being truthful?" He questioned and looked at Agatha.

He clearly did not believe her to be saying the truth cause well... she was Agatha Harkness. She won nothing by being honest, and Billy doubted she had ever been, at least with him.

He wasn't sure about you, but considering how you did not expect her visit back then, when they were gathering coven members, and this odd tension existing between the two of you... it was wise of him to assume that you hadn't talked in a while.

And he did wonder if you were even together or had this strange former romantic bond; like how Agatha seemed to have with Rio.

Agatha grew bored of this, not liking be judged or having cards trying to expose her in any way. She had been trying hard to keep that mask, that facade of a tough woman that cared for nothing other than herself.

She couldn't let a few stupid cards ruin that, and she wasn't going to let it happen.

"You know what, I think I will do it instead. My turn." She grabbed the card stack from Billy.

He tried to hold it back, but he was too slowly, and he quickly lost possession of it.

"Agatha," you started, feeling that this was about to turn into a really bad idea.

"Oh, don't you worry now. Tarot is a con like any other, remember?" She asked rhetorically, clearly not sharing your worries or caring about the rules. She never did. "There's no magic to it. There's no skill."

"That's not true." Billy argued. "It's about intuition.

Knowing which card to pull. And it's about interpretation, divining their meaning."

She paid him no mind as she grabbed one random card and placed it on top of the Chariot that he had pulled before.

Suddenly, one of the swords that was hanging from the ceiling was let loose. It pinned itself into the wooden floor, little too close to Billy for his liking.

You looked up with fearful eyes, losing count on how many swords were up there. Worse was the fact that they were so evently spread that it would be impossible to find a spot and be safe.

Agatha placed another card down and then another, clearly just doing it like that and not using any magic or intuition as one should.

She even cackled like a true evil witch as more and more swords started to fall, some closer and some further away from you.

"Agatha!" You called out her name as one sword landed too close to you, making your heart increase in beat at the fact that had you been stabbing one step to the left; you would not be alive and breathing right now.

Your shout made her stop, seeing you eyeing the sword with fear in your eyes. A quick check made her realize you were unharmed, and that was enough.

"Slow down! What is your problem?" Billy shouted, having moved from his chair to avoid a sword that almost hit him.

Agatha looked at the fearful duo. "This is a numbers game. We keep at it until we get the right cards in the right spots or the ceiling runs out of swords."

"This won't work, Ags," you said, shaking your head faintly to emphasise your disagreement.

"I'm not sure how much math you did back in Salem, but that will take forever." Billy argued.

"We still have some time."

"I wish Lilia was here."

And as if the Road had heard him, once again, it happened. The bookcase behind you was pulled open, and Jen with Lilia entered the room; their outfits also changed to fit the trial's theme and mood.

Jen had been affected the most with her evil queen hag outfit, coming along with grey big eyebrows and a nose; an enjoyable sight for you after all the times Jen's attitude had tested your pat

Lilia, on the other hand, seemed to be some sort of good witch based on her outfit; though you could not tell for sure.

What you could tell for sure was the fact that something was going on because Lilia was switching moods.

For example, how, at first, she said she was okay with Billy; holding no grudges, and then... she flipped.

She pointed a finger, harshly pressed against his chest. By instinct alone, Billy started to walk backwards, and Lilia simply kept advancing.

"Whoa! Ow! I thought we were cool!" He exclaimed, eyes daring to glance at you and Agatha for help.

"We are not cool, Teenager." Lilia said, surprising both Jen and Yoi.

"Damn, using his full name." Jen commented, and you nodded silently.

"She is definitely angry, " you commented next.

Lilia was always the calmest, even her threats being of a low tone; which was what was so unique about her.

This time, though, you could see the fire behind her eyes, and even you would not dare to stand in her way.

After all, one would be wise to fear the calm people when they stopped being calm. It was always them that held the most destructive rage.

Ironic, for the same had been told about you; at least until people realized you were never calm. You simply expressed your worry differently or passed phases when you were indiffirent to everything; the world around you sliding off your body and nothing capable of sticking on you.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out at you. You didn't deserve..." Billy started to apologize. "I wasn't hiding my power from you. I didn't know that I could... I'm not lying to you.

It was a surprise to me, too... if I'd have known, I would've..." he paused for a moment as his telepathic abilities started to work. "Yes, of course, I would have used it to save Alice."

Lilia looked at him, trying to study him behind her aged but expeencd eyes. "You're reading my mind." She picked up.

"Only because it's so loud. No offence." Billy offered a weak small smile to show he had no ill intentions.

"I don't want to ruin any reunions, but we need you, Lilia," you said, moving to stand close and use your hands to separate them faintly. "This is your trial, and either we do it right, or we can kiss our lives goodbye."

And as Lilia started to remember how she had met Billy before, as William; you chose to interfere.

Chapter 35:

[ivystoryweaver]

Still With You

A With You standalone sequel - can be read on its own

"Salvaging discarded things knocked the edge off wanting to drink."

"...but where Marc's hands restored and your hands healed and Steven's hands inspired and instructed, Jake had brutal hands."

based on this nonnie and this @purple-amaranthe request

Pairing: Marc, Steven, Jake x gn!reader || Word Count: 3.2k

Content: they're all trying hard ok, domestic life, self worth probs, mentions of alcoholism/drinking, angst-ish, domestic fluff, moon dads-to-be, romance, sensual content, but nothing explicit

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

MARC

10:58 A.M.

Florescent lights flickered out an annoying buzz in the otherwise silent waiting room.

Thumbing through an outdated parenting magazine, you intermittently pointed out cute toys or outfits to your husband, who would grant you a curt nod each time.

Realizing you likely weren't helping the situation, you set the magazine aside and covered his hand with your own, if only to stop his fidgeting. "Almost time."

Marc squeezed your hand, grateful for your grounding touch. "You're sure we're not late?"

"We're right on time. It's still not even 11:00."

"Okay," he huffed out, his knee bouncing of its own accord. The cheap vinyl of his chair squeaked as he shifted, attempting to externally calm and internal storm.

You smiled at him sympathetically, remembering how far he'd come to even get to this point.

Just yesterday, he paced the floor half the evening, pushing his hands tormentedly through his curls over and over.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"They'll never approve me," he lamented. "I'm not...they'll think I'm not ready."

"Baby, we've taken all the classes. We've passed the home inspection." You nodded around at your new bedroom, eyes landing on the salvaged and restored night table he presented to you a while back.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Marc had taken on several projects since then, turning one bedroom of your new place into a workshop and the other into a nursery.

"Do you think she'll like girl colors?" He asked, flipping through paint swatches at the local hardware store.

"Uhh, what are 'girl colors'?" You smirked.

He swatted your nose with his finger. "I'm trying to pick out what color to paint that vintage toy chest I restored for Akeyla."

Your heart melted at the sound of your future daughter's name, not to mention the fact that Marc had put together nearly every piece in her nursery himself.

When he wasn't on a mission for Khonshu, he liked to keep his hands busy. Sometimes that meant his hands were all over you for "stress relief." Otherwise, he would drive around town in the old truck he bought, looking for unwanted and discarded furniture to fix up, repurpose for the house, or sell.

He still labeled himself unemployed, but he sold a few refurbished pieces a month, which more than paid for the hobby, his truck insurance and even left some spending money.

Salvaging discarded things knocked the edge off wanting to drink.

"Maybe like...turquoise?" He prodded, tracing his fingers over a row of various blues and greens. When you neglected to answer what you assumed was a rhetorical question, he assumed it was a no.

"Or purple? Sweetheart?" The full intensity of the Marc Spector stare fell on you as he waited for the verdict.

"Sorry." You smiled at him, nodding toward the turquoise swatches. "Trust your instincts. You're always right." Leaning closer, you kissed him adoringly on the cheek.

"That's not what you said about the yellow bench," he chuckled, selecting a swatch labeled "Ebbtide".

"That's pretty, I like it."

Marc needed to hear your words. After a couple years of marriage, you knew this now more than ever. Whether telling him what you needed in bed, or giving your seal of approval for his newest restoration project, he valued your opinion more than anything and it meant so much to him to hear you voice it.

Akeyla's nursery had been ready for weeks. The vintage toy chest was the final touch. Marc found a rocking chair, a book case that Steven requested, and chest of drawers to restore. You drew the line at a creaky old toddler bed. Steven went with you to pick that out, brand new.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

It was finally here. Today was the day you would meet your little girl.

You weren't ready to take her home yet - that was longer process - but you would meet her and start visits. Very soon, she would enter your home through the foster system, and after a while, she would be yours forever, by adoption.

"What if they change their minds?" Marc urgently whispered, there in the waiting room, gripping your hand so tightly it hurt. "They'll want to put her somewhere without someone - "

"Marc," you reminded him, "they know all about us. It's okay."

"I know, but - what if they find out about Khon- "

"Hi, are you the Spectors?" a kindly voice interrupted Marc's fussing.

A smartly dressed young woman holding a tablet adjusted her glasses and smiled.

"Yes," you quickly answered, standing up and pulling Marc with you. "That's us. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She shook each of your hands. "Ready to meet her?"

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"What if I..." Marc whispered against your temple, holding you against him in bed the night before. "I want to be there to meet her, but if I'm not, it isn't because I..." He shifted restlessly, trying to explain.

"You know what I always say," you gently reminded him, raking one hand through the curls resting above his ear.

"It's our body," he repeated your words back to you. "Whoever's there is there. It's not a problem."

"Exactly," you remind him. "I know you want to meet Akeyla as much as Steven, Jake and I do. I know that."

"I do," he breathlessly repeated, and you realized it might be a long night, when he added, "I just don't want to scare her. What if she doesn't understand, you know, how we are?"

"Baby, come here," You pulled his head down to your chest, wrapping him up tightly, pressing soothing kisses along his hairline. He wasn't voicing any fears he hadn't already talked through a dozen times with you, his sponsor and his therapist, not to mention his alters.

"Sorry," he murmured against the smooth column of your neck. Shifting pleading eyes up to yours, he relaxed, as your soft smile soothed him. "I'm so nervous."

"I am too," you sympathized. "Believe me, Marc. I mean, we're meeting our daughter. I'm just as nervous as you are."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Marc tangled his fingers with yours as you shuffled down the hallway toward the room that would change your lives forever.

The woman in front of you, who had identified herself as Elsie, paused before opening the door. "Ready?"

You glanced at your husband.

Sometimes he was so adorably terrified you were certain he forgot it was actually his idea to adopt.

Granting you a nod, he swallowed thickly. "Ready."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

STEVEN

9:22 P.M.

"So tense, mon cœur," your husband breathed against your neck, trailing tempting kisses over your damp skin. Strong forearms flexed against your abdomen, pulling your back closer to the slick heat of his bare chest.

Thick thighs surrounded you as you rested in your garden tub together, soaking in a bubble bath. Your head dropped to his shoulder as he whispered sensual French words on your ear. Long fingers traced down the shape of your abdomen, naughtily slipping between your legs.

"Steven, this is supposed to be a relaxing bath. Oh shit - " You moaned as touched you right where you craved. His other hand gripped your jaw, turning your face to his for a wet, hungry kiss. You went boneless in his embrace, completely at his mercy.

You should have known sweet Steven would seduce you during your "relaxing bath."

Later that evening, he sat beside you on the sofa, each of you working on a puzzle book from the "couch basket", enjoying a quiet evening in your new home.

“Got those pictures you wanted, love,” he commented. “The garden ones. Found another book too.”

You smiled adoringly at him, so excited to see them framed and hanging in Akeyla’s room. You had asked him to track down pictures of gardens from all over the world. Since Marc was in charge of furniture, Steven helped you pick out some unique decor.

He acquired a couple of first edition classic Children’s books as well. But you reminded him they would have to be stored way up high, away from the grabby hands of a toddler.

So he curated a brilliant little collection of toddler friendly board books for the lower shelves, as well as children’s books for her to grow into.

Steven had finished his bachelor's degree and was now working on a Masters of Anthropology. Already fluent in French, he was also studying Egyptian Arabic in an unofficial capacity, and toying with the idea of studying archaeology or linguistics as well. He just loved to learn and could never get enough.

After all was said and done, he'd probably end up teaching, which was a perfect idea because, in front of the right crowd, he was absolutely enthralling when he was passionate about something.

He still worked at the university library and thanked you almost daily for making most of the money for this little family, while he studied, and he, Jake and Marc worked part-time jobs.

You reminded Steven that their three part time jobs kind of added up to one job - plus as a student, you would give him a pass.

"Besides, you're going to be a sexy professor in another year or two, so I really see no downside," you'd tease him.

“Can’t wait to read to her every night,” Steven mused, pulling your mind back to the present.

Setting your puzzle book down, you snuggled up close to his side, wrapping your arms around his. “She’s always going to remember us reading to her. You’re going to be such a good dad, Steven.”

His throat bobbed. “You really think so?”

“I do. I know it.”

Gripping your hand almost as tightly as Marc had earlier in the afternoon, his head rested against yours. "Can't wait to meet her. Tell me again how she looked."

You warmly chuckled, nuzzling into his sleeve. "You've seen her picture a hundred times."

"I know, but...tell me again. What does her voice sound like?"

So you told Steven all about meeting your daughter for the first time, that afternoon, with Marc.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

JAKE

4:07 A.M.

The jangling of keys in the deadbolt dragged you from a foggy half slumber you'd managed in Steven's chair by the front door.

Jake had finally made it home after another night driving people around, and serving as Khonshu's fist of vengeance.

When he spotted you there, looking so adorably uncomfortable, he pulled his cap off his head and tossed it onto the entry way table with his keys.

Kneeling down in front of you, he smiled warmly. "What are you doing up, mi vida?"

"Mmm," you mumbled, relief surging through you at the sight of him. Leaning forward in the chair, you wrapped your arms around his neck and squeezed him tight. "Missed you."

"Missed you too." He held you for an indulgent moment before gently placing you back into the chair and standing to remove his jacket and gloves. Before you could whine out a protest, he helped you up just long enough to sit in the chair and pull you back down onto his lap.

Tucking you against his body, he reached for his jacket and draped it over you like a blanket. Jake knew you well enough. If he told you to go to bed, you would bristle and defy him, but if he held you like this, you would fall asleep in sixty seconds flat. Win win.

Your body settled against his and your breathing slowed, but you blinked up at him pleadingly. “Where have you been?”

Frowning in confusion, he rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, underneath the jacket. “You know where, cariño.”

Looping your fingers around his tie, you coaxed his temping lips to yours for a lingering kiss. Jake shifted underneath you, sighing against your mouth as you held him there for an indulgent moment.

“I haven’t seen you all week. I miss you.”

“I see you almost every night,” he volleyed back.

“You know what I mean.” Realizing you were tired and there was an edge in your tone, you touched your forehead to his. “I know you guys don’t exactly have a schedule. I just wanted to tell you about Akeyla.”

His eyes flickered away as his jaw clenched. You and Marc met your daughter yesterday. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

For a while, Jake had to be asked or reminded to participate in regular, daily things. Sometimes, you would go a week, only seeing him in your room at night, so you would ask him to eat dinner with you or take you out somewhere.

You started late night dates with Jake, just to build memories with him, in his world. It was never really your scene before, but you'd been to bars, out dancing, to late movies and your favorite - midnight bowling.

In fact, you all adjusted your schedules to fit the boys' night owl tendencies. You moved to second shift and Steven didn't take any more morning classes. You all slept in as late as possible, ate brunch or lunch and then got started on your day.

So it was not unheard of for you to wait up for Jake, but sleeping in Steven's chair until 4 A.M. was a bit unusual.

"I was busy tonight," he cryptically remarked, which tended to indicate he was probably doing Khonshu's bidding. "I wasn't trying to stay away."

"I'm not mad," you sleepily assured him, laying your head down on his shoulder. "I can't wait for you to meet her. And with her coming home soon, everything could change.”

"Change how?"

"Well for starters, I doubt a toddler will let us sleep in as late as we do. She'll probably climb all over our heads at like 5:30."

Jake was uncharacteristically quiet and you were half asleep.

"I'm not mad," you drowsily repeated, curling into him, murmuring "missed you" as you drifted off.

He rocked you gently, his heart burning with how he'd possibly disappointed you. Now that you were finally asleep, he didn't dare wake you, so he laid his head on the back of the chair, hoping to join you in slumber.

Jake had seen the horrors of this world, and of worlds adjacent. Terrifying, supernatural threats had met the crunch of his fist, and his vengeance.

But the thought of caring for a little girl shook him to his core, and in a different way than it did Marc.

Marc was always worried about his alcoholism, his past, the fact that they were a system, but he wanted Akeyla so badly. The whole thing was his idea in the first place. Steven was ready to show this kid the world, both metaphorically and literally.

Jake loved you, and he would love his child. Beyond that, he had no idea what to do, or how to contribute. The urge to not take time away from Marc or Steven was so strong it almost felt like instinct.

You, Steven and Marc had lovingly and rather expertly crafted her a dream-worthy nursery, but where Marc's hands restored and your hands healed and Steven's hands inspired and instructed, Jake had brutal hands.

Unwilling to disturb you, he pondered how he could prove to you he was still in this with you.

Reaching into his the pocket of his jacket, which still covered the top half of your body, he pulled out his phone. Opening up a picture of Akeyla, he smiled, studying her cute, chubby cheeks, dark, round eyes and her tightly wound curls.

Tracing the shape of her face with his thumb, he wondered what he could possibly give his sweet angel, besides protection.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Sleep came for a short while, but as the sun rose, so did you. Jake was asleep but his phone was playing a long playlist of videos. Hoping to not disturb him, you carefully removed the phone from his hand.

The video showed a young girl getting her hair styled. In fact the whole playlist was of dads styling their daughter's textured hair, including what products to try, and cute and useful clips, combs and the right brushes to help.

Chewing on you lip for a moment, you tapped on the search bar and saw that he had typed in, 'how to care for textured hair'.

Just the notion of Jake pulling off his gloves and styling your little girl's hair made your heart explode with love.

"Are these for Akeyla?" You whispered mainly to yourself, shifting your weight from one of his thighs to the other.

Jake groaned as circulation returned to that leg, making it tingle as he awakened from a very short nap.

"Sorry," you softly laughed. "I should let you get up, shouldn't I?"

The corner of Jake's mouth curled, but he nodded.

You helped him climb out of the chair and the two of you washed up. Jake slid into Steven's pajama pants and the two of you went to bed.

Already drifting back to sleep, Jake presented his small offering to you. Something to let you know he was all in.

"I think I could learn how to fix Akeyla's hair," he drowsily murmured, eyes already closed. "Watched a bunch of videos about it."

He couldn't build things and he wasn't book smart and he wasn't you. He wasn't even supposed to have a family. But you loved him so hard that he couldn't resist you and now he was about to gain everything he never knew he wanted.

Maybe the brutality of his hands could be used to do this tender thing for his daughter.

"I love you so much," you whispered, brushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

"Te amo," he whispered.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

ONE WEEK LATER…

“What’s your favorite color, Akeyla?” Marc asked on your next visit to with your soon-to-be-daughter. He sat beside her, adorably hunched with her at a child-sized table, coloring and drawing.

“Do you like red?” He asked, holding up a few choices of crayon.

“Fav-wit color wed!” She agreed, reaching for a yellow.

“Ohhh, you like yellow.” He winked at you, thinking of the yellow bench at home. “I like it too.”

“Yeh-yow,” Akeyla repeated, scribbling determinedly. Swinging her legs back and forth she repeated, “Yeh-yow, yeh-yow.”

“That’s right. We have a big yellow bench at home that I painted. We can sit on it together, just you and me. Is that okay?”

Akeyla seemed to ignore him, reaching over his arm to scribble yellow on his coloring sheet. Once she had saturated the paper to her satisfaction, she laughed out, amused with herself. “Yeh-yow bench. Okay, Dad-eee.”

Her nose scrunched as she showed him a silly toddler grin. Your heart completely melted as you watched them together.

“This is a good drawing,” Marc complimented, pointing to his paper she drew on. “Can I have it?”

Reaching out with chubby fingers, Akeyla scrunched the paper in her tiny grip, presenting it to Marc. “Here go. You hab it.”

“I can keep it?” He nodded hopefully. “Can I have a hug?”

She threw her arms around his neck. Lifting her up from the table, Marc offered one arm out to you and invited you into to this little family embrace.

Akeyla touched her forehead to yours, already a signature move for the two of you. Then she scrunched her nose and showed off that silly grin again.

"Want me to take your picture?" You offered. Grabbing your phone, you snapped a few selfies of you and Marc with Akeyla.

As soon as you were finished, she reached for your phone. "I watch Bluey."

And so it began.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Ivy's 1st Ficiversary Celebration || Moon Knight Masterlist || Main Masterlist

updates blog - @ivystoryupdates

[boreal-sea]

Firstly: get dunk'd, transphobe.

Secondly, nice source, dipshit:

I have to do everything, don't I?

Let's talk about this source before we even read this article, because it shows how poor your rhetorical analysis skills are - or how unwilling you are to practice those skills, or perhaps just how willing you are to ally yourself with racist, nationalist, far-right reactionaries if they also happen to be transphobic.

Wings Over Scotland is a far-right, nationalist, reactionary blog run by Scottish "video game journalist" Stuart Campbell. It is not an unbiased news website - it's some dude's personal blog, and he created it because he hated that mainstream news in Scotland wasn't spreading the far-right rhetoric he wished it would.

And this is what you used as a "source". Fucking laughable.

Now let's get into the actual blog post. I refuse to call it a "news article", because it's not. This one was written by a nobody named "Mar Vickers". At the bottom of the article, Stuart claims Mar has "extensive experience in equality law". I can't seem to find any indication Mar is some sort of lawyer or scholar; all I can find is a link to his twitter - sorry, I mean his "X":

https://twitter.com/mar2vickers

You can tell this is the same Mar based on the content of his tweets. He's also transphobic garbage, surprise surprise. He has a backup account on "gettr", because it seems like his twitter gets suspended frequently - which says a lot. Gettr is a clone of twitter that caters to right wingers who get suspended and banned on Twitter for constantly violating its hate speech policies. So. You know. Though these days, X is the safe-haven for far-right reactionaries, so honestly that's a red flag period.

As a summary: Mar doesn't understand surveys or their limits, he doesn't define what a "sex crime" is, he doesn't know what the Rorschach test is, and he's bad at math. He plays with numbers like he's some sort of population statistician, which he's not. He draws conclusions that are completely nonsense, because he's not asking the relevant questions.

Basically, he states that over the past few years, the ratio of trans women in jail for sex crimes to compared to the general population of trans woman is now higher than the ratio of cis men in jail for sex crimes compared to the general population of cis men. Ok, but why did these numbers change? He doesn't ask why. He just assumes these trends are natural and reflect the behavior of cis men and trans women, rather than the increased transphobia in England and Wales that he and his buddy Stuart have been fueling.

I absolutely don't doubt that trans women are incarcerated for "sex crimes" (which he never defines of course) at a higher rate per population than cis men. It's the same reason people of color are incarcerated more per population: bigotry. "Wow, this population of people who society hates sure gets sent to jail a lot. That's probably a reflection of their true nature, and not a reflection on society at large!"

[oneofstarkskids]

it's not your fault.

pairings: carol danver x fury!reader

genre: angst + some fluff

you're standing in the compound with your arms crossed. your mind is racing. it won't stop.

you can't stop picturing it all. the ash blowing in the wind. the screams and cries for help. so many people that just...vanished. and your father was one of them.

"where's fury?" the voice broke you from your haze. you turned around slowly, meeting the soft brown eyes of captain marvel herself.

you'd never personally met her and your father hardly ever mentioned her, so seeing her standing two feet away from you was a bit of a shock.

she was beautiful.

natasha spoke for you, knowing you were having a hard time. "he's gone. with the rest of them," she assumed carol knew what she meant. everyone knew.

there wasn't a single person in this room who hadn't lost someone. carol blinked back tears and took a deep breath, "what can i do?"

she seemed determined to help. to try and fix it somehow. you turned back towards the hologram of your father with a sullen expression.

you knew there was nothing she could do. he was gone. the man that raised you and trained you and taught you to be the strong, courageous woman you were today.

at some point everyone had left the room. everyone except carol. you were stunned to see her standing so close, you must've dissociated for a moment.

"how did you know him?" she asked, eyes on his pixelated face. you furrowed your brows and cleared throat before speaking, "he's my dad."

her head snapped in your direction and her mouth hung open ever so slightly in disbelief, "i didn't know fury had a daughter."

you laughed half heartedly, "yup. he was a very secretive man, wasn't he?"

she nodded, trying to wrap her mind around the situation still.

"i just can't believe he's gone," your voice broke and unwanted tears poured down your cheeks.

carol didn't know what to do. she wasn't the best at comforting people or even dealing with her own emotions.

"i'm sorry," you said as you wiped away at your face. she shook her head and suddenly it came naturally.

she wrapped her arms around you and held you tightly against her. "hey, it's not your fault." she whispered, which only made you cry harder.

you felt like a disappointment. your father was dead and there was nothing you could do to save him. bullshit. you didn't even try.

she stroked the back of your head carefully, "it's going to be okay." you sniffled and pulled away from the hug.

"do you know what the last thing i said to him was?" carol waited, understanding that the question was more rhetorical. "i told him that he was a selfish man. that he was more concerned about being director of shield than he ever was my father," you confessed.

carol still had her hands on your shoulders as if it was the only thing keeping you stable.

"and is that true?" she asked. you looked down, "it doesn't matter. i was angry and i didn't mean it. and had i known-" you paused to keep the tears from coming back up.

carol cupped your face in her hands and made you look her in the eye. "listen to me." you looked up at her. "i will get him back. i promise."

and maybe it was your desperation for any sign of hope or the ever so authoritative and optimistic way she said it, but you believed her.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 53 - Galway Girl

Summary: Josie has another run in with the law which leads to another revelation. She reaches out to a Savior with the new info. Luke plays his violin. A beloved sassy Scotswoman stuns Josephine on her hunt for the innocent Scotsman. An Irish memory rattles Jo. She and Gerry have a HUGE discussion on many subjects. More comes to light about Megan's attack. Emotions go awry when Gerry learns the truth.

*Chapter Warnings* language, angst, mentions of drugs and rape

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Salem, Massachusetts

March 22, 2022

The revelation of your ex-fiance's non-infidelity had your mind spinning as you carelessly sped down the freeway, stiff as a board with a white knuckled grip on the wheel and trying not to puke. Over and over, just as you had done 3 years ago, you began dissecting all the events of that painful day when you had awoke to the life altering text that you believed to have been from Gerry. A fabricated text to incriminate him, making it look like he had accidentally sent it to you instead of your sister which put her diabolical plan of entrapment all into motion of deeming him unfaithful and it had worked like a fucking charm. Still etched in your mind as if it were only yesterday, was the look of horror on Gerry's face when you found him in bed with Megan. A look that you now saw in a whole new light and you were so lost in that image that you did not notice the cop parked on the berm of the road, pegging you at 82 miles per hour.

The startling sirens brought you back to the present which you didn't even know where that was at the time, for you had just experienced one of those blackout moments where you didn't remember driving from point A to point B and wondered how you even did it without causing a wreck. You didn't have your seatbelt on either which you didn't realize until after you pulled over.

In your side mirror, you nervously watched the grumpy looking policeman approach your car, wishing it had been Luke because this time, you knew you couldn't cry your way out of it with being almost thirty miles per hour over the speed limit. Was he seriously unsnapping his gun holster???

"License and registration." the officer robotically requested as you rolled your window down.

You fumbled through your purse, then the glove box and handed him the items without question or argument, just wanting to get the humiliating moment over with and go.

He looked over the documents and then eyed you as he asked the usual rhetorical question. "Do you know why I pulled you over miss March?"

"Speeding I assume."

His reply was cocky as car after car sped by, taking advantage of the situation. "You assumed correct. 82 in a 55. Also I see you aren't wearing your seatbelt which is a law in every state other than New Hampshire which you are not in and your tail light is busted out as well which is a non-moving violation and a ticketable offense."

"Wait, what? How did that happen?? Can I go look?"

"You will need to remain in your vehicle while I go back and write up this ticket."

As soon as he was back in his cruiser, you immediately texted Jeffrey.

"I think u were right! Someone was in that car. My tail light is busted out and it wasn't when I was putting my bags in the trunk!"

About 30 seconds went by and he then replied. "Thx for the 411 darlin. Been thinkin bout it more since you dropped me off. Stowaway POS. Prob followed us to the junk yard too. He's toying with us. Busted the light as a warning. Ballsy fucker bit off more than he could goddamn chew. I'll find him and when I do, well I think you know how that will turn out. In the meantime, your best off to stay close to Craig. Sorry bout your trouble, Trouble😉 When you got time, bring your sweet self and that sweet ride to the shop and I'll get that taken care of for you asap. Least I could do for pissin you off. Talk more then."

"Thank u!! I'll text u later to let u know when I can come."

"You're very welcome doll. You can cum anytime."

You huffed and shook your head at his remark and before you could reply, he texted right back.

"Oh damn! Old habits die fucking hard. Told you I'd piss on the floor every now and then. Sorry for the comment. My bad."

You smiled and softly chuckled. "I'll let it slide. At least you're trying. Talk later."

"You rock girl. Later."

Stay close to Craig. Great. Now you had to haul all your stuff back to your apartment instead of going to your mom's as planned... for the time being anyways. You couldn't bring more trouble to her. Megan would surely remain in the hospital for quite sometime anyways and your mom would most likely take up residency in her room. Would they even be safe there though? Elizabeth sure wasn't. You then anxiously texted Luke.

"Hey. Can u please put a guard at Megan's door??? Just to be safe."

His reply was instant and shocking. "Already working on that Jo. No worries. I'm heading there in a few to speak with her as well since I was informed she is awake. Everything ok? Still pissed at me?"

You wanted to be but you just didn't have the energy anymore. "Thank u Luke. For everything. I'm fine. I just want my mom and sister to be safe right now. Please keep me updated."

You wanted to tell him so bad about the bar thugs since they were after him to begin with but you couldn't now that he was a cop. You just didn't know if you could trust him after knowing the little bit you knew about his agent days with Lee. Your list of loyal peers was growing thin anymore.

"I see you've deflected on my last question. I'm sorry things have to be this way. I really am Jo. I'm just trying to turn my life around but all I seem to be doing is making everyone hate me even more. Maybe it was a mistake to even come back here. I wanted to try to fix things and all I do is fuck them up even more. Suppose there's no reform for someone like me. Who am I to be some judge and jury? I'm a loner. Always have been. Better off that way...for everyone involved."

Luke was doing it again and at the worst possible time. Removing the armor and showing his softer side and that was why it was hard to stay angry with him. Just like Lee, he had a sordid past and had been through some bad shit. Knowing what Luke Sr. did to both Luke and Landy, defiling his own sons, was beyond comprehension to you so you couldn't even begin to imagine how that felt for the two wayward brothers. As you stared at your phone, not knowing how to reply to the heart on Luke's sleeve, you nearly jumped out of your skin when the officer appeared at your window, ticket in hand.

"I see that you're the late detective Brady's sister. Good man. So tragic. I am sorry for your loss."

Thinking he may decide to let you off with a warning, you smiled and hoped for the best. "Yes, I am. Thank you. Our family misses him so much."

"Your family, yes. I also am aware that that makes you Jason Morgan's sister. Not a good man, but you know that. He almost took you to the grave with him and here you are, speeding round town like he did on the bike as if you're something special."

"Ex...cuuuse me??!!"

"No, I won't excuse you like you probably thought I was going to just because of your family ties to the precinct."

Oh how you wanted to go all Betty White on him like she did in Lake Placid and call him Officer fuckmeat and then continuing on with her other snarky line of if I had a dick, this is where I'd tell you to suck it, but you would certainly be arrested this time if you did.

"Yeah well, I'm also detective Butler's ex- finacee and we're still very close. I'll be sure to tell him about this."

"I can see why it's ex. Lady, I don't care who you are. There won't be any preferential treatment here. Don't break the law. It's really not that hard. Here's your ticket. Have a good day Ma'am."

He handed you your expensive ass ticket with a court date for the following week and walked away as you sat with a gaping mouth.

"Asshole!" you grunted after you rolled up your window, then finally you were on your way, but before you drove off, you quickly texted Lee to tell him you would come to the cemetery but that you would be late. You didn't mention why though. It had nothing to do with the traffic stop and everything to do with the whopper of a secret that Megan confessed. As far as a reply to Luke, he would have to wait.

You called Gerry as you pulled up to the gates of the Kiriakis estate, but once again, he did not answer so you punched in the code for entry that only very few had. Those without the free pass would have to go through the whole rigmarole of identity verification and approval to be buzzed through, for Victor's security was understandably high with being a man of his nefarious stature and corresponding life. He may as well have been considered a celebrity. Of course ALL the other crime families of Salem were like that too.

The property was enormous and endless, consisting mostly of forestry, open country-like land and bayside access surrounding the mansion and one that did not know it well could easily get lost. It took you almost 5 minutes just to drive up the pine tree-lined path to the main house and then another minute to get back to the two story guest house where Gerry resided on the bay which was only a fraction in size of the stately manor. Even though Victor's fancy fortress had as many rooms as a 5 star hotel, Gerry cherished his privacy and wanted nothing to do with all servant bullshit and the tiresome walking involved in getting from room to room...and of course, papa Vic's business dealings. If the reserved detective could live like a hermit in a surfing shack on the beach, he would, for he loved the water and he had actually built one not far from the guest house that you were surprised he hadn't moved into already. It was more of a trailer located where all the good waves were for surfing and if he wasn't doing that, he was working on cars, one of his favorite pastimes. Maybe that's where he had been when he wasn't at the hospital visiting his father?

Once you reached the guest home, there were two cars parked in the front and neither were Gerry's.

You deciphered at least one to most likely be the maid or gardener, for Victor was OCD on the cleanliness and beauty of his grounds. As for the other, no clue. Maybe he had a girlfriend now? That could explain why he wasn't answering your calls.

After parking by the garage, you peaked in the window and saw Gerry's truck inside, so you headed up to the porch and rang the doorbell. There was no answer so you rang it once more and then glanced through the small window panel to see the television on, but no one was there.

"Gerry???!!" you shouted and knocked aggressively. "It's me, Jo!"

Another minute went by and no one came to the door. "Alright. " you sarcastically rationalized out loud as you took out the key you still had. "If you can walk right into my mother's home, I can do the same here."

You crept inside and quietly closed the door, then made your way to the TV, turned it off and called to him once more. "Gerry! Are you here??"

In the silence, you heard the toilet flush from the bathroom around the corner and then the door opened.

"Hallo?" a woman's familiar voice loudly questioned and then in walked Gerry's mother, gasping as she covered her mouth.

"Josephine darlin, in the name of the wee man!" the petite Gaelic woman with salt and pepper hair exclaimed in her strong Scottish accent.

Ironically, her name was Margaret just like your mother's and they both shared a son with Victor. She even had fiery hair like your mother once upon a time which was possibly what attracted Victor to her aside from the identical names and similar accents. The only difference was, she went by Margie and your mother went by Maggie. Margie lived in the Scottish Highlands and rarely visited the states. Gerry had usually went to see her instead, for he didn't like her braving the big Scotland airports alone such as Glasgow and Edinburgh, so you were just as stunned to see her as she was you. She probably came to support her son over Victor's heart attack which now made sense as to why Gerry had fallen off the grid, but it still pissed you off that he couldn't have sent you a simple text instead of ignoring you.

"Margie?? Oh my God is right!"

In the shared excitement, you both bee-lined to each other and embraced. You had surely missed her, for she had always made you feel like a part of her family. She was so kind-hearted and compassionate with a side of Scottish sass and she adored you. Needless to say, she was just as heartbroken as you and Gerry were when you and he had went your separate ways.

"I had no idea you were here Margie. Sorry for just walking in. I rang the bell and knocked but..."

"Oh, I tried to hurry but I was in the cludgie doin my jobby. It's a wee bit bowfin in there, so I would wait awhile if ye need to pee. It might make ye greet." she warned with a grin and a wink, for it literally meant she was taking a very smelly shit, one that would make you cry. She was usually quite frank about everything.

"I haven't been able to reach Gerry lately. When did you get here?"

"About tree days ago. I told my boy I was coming and there was nothin he could do about it so he flew all the long way to Glasgow and swooped me up in the sky on that fancy Kiriakis jet so I wouldn't have to fly alone. Ye know my Gerard, stubborn as an ox just like his Da. Oh goodness it is so guid tae see ye! Are ye well my darlin girl? Ye know I will always think of ye as my daughter no matter whit's happened."

You smiled and held her dishpan hands. "Of course I will always see you as a mother figure and I've certainly had better days."

"Ye do look a wee bit peely wally and ye been greetin. Yer een are red. Dinnae fash yersel. I won't tell."

"Dinner...what?" you giggled. "Sorry, my Gaelic sucks."

"It means don't worry. Nothin to be sorry about. Look who ye learned it from! Although Gerry knows the Celtic tongue, he tends to haver in the lowland Scot's language." she snarked with an eye roll. "But I suppose, like yersel, no one would understand him around here. His accent has weakened too. He tries to emphasize it more when I'm around and he thinks I don't notice the change but I suppose if I saw him more, it wouldn't seem so drastic now would it?"

"No, I suppose not. How is Edward? He didn't come?"

Her infamous Scottish sass surfaced about Gerry's stepfather. "Oh that old numpty craw. The eejit is probably sittin on his arse with his tap aff, wearin his baffies and clyping to the neebs while sippin on his uisge. He didn't want to come and be a proper crabbit around Gerry, but we all know it's because he don't take kindly to Victor and wouldn't be caught dead in his home."

"Have you went to see Victor?"

"HA!" she guffawed and rolled her eyes again. "I don't give a radan's arse about the old bawbag either but let's keep that between you and me. I'm only here to use the rich bastard's free amenities and to be here for Gerry because only the good Lord above knows why he loves that menace to society."

There was another difference between your mother and Margie. Your mom loved Victor. Margie despised him because he could never get over your mother. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"Well, I would say your secret's safe with me but it's not like Gerry don't know how you feel. Speaking of, where is he? And.... who's cars are out front? Does he have other guests?"

"If yer hinting around to see if Gerry has some manky hen hiding under his bed, that would be a flat out naw. The only hen in his heart will always be the bonnie lass I'm lookin at, his Galway girl. One of the cars is a rental Gerry got for me so I can come and go as I please. Somebody has got to get the messages around here. Wasn't enough scran for a luch to nibble on. The other is Brady's car, ye know, the son who's name is strangely the same as yer mum's maiden name? or maybe it's Phillip's car? I lose track of all Victor's offspring anymore. All I know is one of his half brothers is here. The skinny malinky long legs and a braw lookin fella there in that picture on the stand. Looks like my Gerard when he was a lad."

You picked it up and chuckled. "Ahh, that would be Phillip, the youngest one. They have the same slanted smile and dimples. Is that where Gerry is? With Phil?"

"Aye, sorry, I don't know where my mind went whit all my haverin. Jetlag has me knackered, sticks with ye longer when yer thairis air a 'bheinn."

You tilted your head at her like a confused puppy. She usually used more of the Scot's English for you but would forget when she was rambling and would blurt out her witty words the way she spoke to Gerry because it was simply what she was accustomed to with being from the highlands. You compared it to playing a game of charades on guessing what she meant.

"Oh sorry darlin. I did it again. It means when yer over the hill. Anyways, Phillip's upstairs sleeping off the lagair. He and Gerry were off their trolley last night after visiting their dunderheid da. Phil got the boke. Poor lad. His heid's mince. He hit a pure whitey come morn. I told him not to have so many swallies but he was determined to keep up with Gerry. My son is out on the docks, up to high doh on fixin the boat while suckin down more of the bevvy and still reefin on those clatty baccy fags, so I've been in here, scrannin ma wee pan in on some mince and tatties, which is whit sent me to the cludgie and I was goin to watch my stories when ye popped in."

She very indiscreetly glanced over your shoulder to see the TV. "Ye mak a better door than a windae. Go on now. Get yer bahookie out there and have yersels a blether. That's whit ye came here for now aye? Whit's fur ye'll no go by ye."

Her smile was devious. You knew she wanted you and Gerry to reconcile but you couldn't even think of things like that when you loved Lee the way you did, but you understood what she last said and you certainly believed it. What's for you will not go by you. There were always signs if you paid attention, which you always did.

With your stomach in knots, you slowly headed out down the lengthy dock where you could see the speed boat up on the lift with Gerry inside of it and you could hear his jeers too, swearing like the Scotsman he truly was.

The day had become dreich as Margie would say and it was getting colder too, even more so out on the water. It felt like a reflection of your emotions. The calm before the storm that was about to become a category 5 hurricane when you found the courage to tell Gerry of Megan's betrayal. Knowing him the way you did, he wouldn't believe it at first and you could already predict his words. Yer bum's oot the windae! Blatantly translated....you're full of shit.

Your phone beeped, causing your already shortened steps of rapidly growing cold feet to cease altogether. It was Lee responding to your text that informed him of your late arrival.

"I have already waited a lifetime for you. I can wait longer because you are worth every aching minute of delay. I will wait forever if I must, just to breathe in your presence."

How? How could any human being possess such power over you? To be able to stop and restart your heart all from one simple text? As you stood there, literally holding Lee's bleeding heart in your hands, you began to feel incredibly guilty for making him wait, especially because you had chosen to go to Gerry first and you knew he wouldn't understand. You didn't even understand.

Forcing down the urge to lean over the rail and hurl, you gripped your queasy stomach and continued on. The closer you got, music became audible. You halted your steps once more, gasping as the song flung you back in time to 5 years ago in Galway when your relationship with Gerry was shiny and new. It was all your eyes could see as you gazed at Gerry working in the boat.

You had been wanting to go back to your roots and he had made that happen for you by taking you to Ireland on the same jet he picked his mom up in. It took a lot of coaxing though to get you on the man-made bird, for that was how your father had died when his plane had went down, something you rarely spoke of. Doped up on anxiety meds and tucked in the safety of Gerry's arms like a baby bird had gotten you through the fear and before you knew it, you and he were in Galway, partying it up.

The song was Galway Girl. Gerry said it reminded him of you and one night at one of the local pubs, the dashing detective showed off one of his many other talents. Playing guitar and singing that particular and very popular song with some guys he used to be in a band with back in his youthful days...and he sang it to you as he strummed the acoustic chordophone and strutted his way through the overcrowded room, embarrassing the hell out of you and then to top that off, he grabbed you up in his arms and kissed you madly. But you loved it and you loved him. It was like no one existed that night but you and him. Everything was so different then. You and Gerry were different, right down to his clean shaven baby face and your red hair with bangs.

You could still feel that kiss, taste it even. Guinness Stout mixed with sweet cologne and salty sweat. You were so happy. He was so happy. You could have had it all, rollin in the deep as the song said. He had your heart inside of his hand and he played it to the beat, or so you had believed no thanks to Megan's malevolence. She ruined everything. If she hadn't, would you now be Mrs. Josephine March Butler? You momentarily glanced down at your ring finger where the glowing golden rock used to be that he proposed to you with. He chose it because it was his birthstone and it reminded him of your amber eyes. He said it proved you and he were born for one another and even with Gerry, you had believed in all the signs so you really took that one to heart, along with both of your mothers names being the same. When everything went to shit, you took that as another sign and even went as far as secretly blaming it on the fact that he was a Scorpio. Low compatibility with your sign, a Sagittarius. Water and fire. It was said to be a very challenging relationship which it eventually became even without Megan's interference. You had just needed some fucking reason to understand how Gerry could ever cheat on you and with your slutty sister of all people or even at all. Would you have ever even met Lee? What would have happened if you had? Because your connection with him was instant and extremely intense, like the striking and igniting of a match. Aries and Sagittarius. Fire meets fire. You literally burned for each other.

As the song ended, the silence brought you back to the present, still staring at Gerry who had now locked his widened blue eyes upon you. Watching him hop out of the boat and casually strut his way to you in a dark baggy tee and a pair of khakis, you resumed your steps and your breathing that you swore had also ceased during your involuntary time travel.

He looked back at the boat and then you. "She's being stubborn. Hope you didn't come for a boat ride."

The ridiculous attempt to downplay his ghosting of you was expected and typical of Gerry, as well as the adorably anxious smile he displayed.

Gerry knew damn well you couldn't swim and would never get in a recreational boat but you couldn't even muster up a snarky retort with the way you were feeling and he noticed it. You noticed something too as he laid the rag on the railing and asked you if you wanted a beer. He was wearing his wedding ring.

"N..no. I'm good." you softly and simply declined.

As he opened the mini fridge under the small kitchen island used for bay parties, he looked back at you with concern.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine Gerry."

He popped the cap off the Heineken and took a swig while staring at you. "You're good, you're fine. Ok. Then why do you look like you've been crying?"

"Why do you look like a bottle of whiskey kicked your arse? Where have you been Gerry? I've been trying to reach you and I know damn well you know that. Why couldn't you answer my texts and calls??"

"Not to evade questioning like you're doing or to be a prick but since when do I owe you any explanations about my life? Last time I checked, we were never married."

"Fair enough...but why are you wearing your ring??"

His lips parted as he glanced down at his hand with a baffled expression, for clearly he had forgotten about it.

"Ohhh...that. Yeahhhh. Phil and I got a bit minced on a few wee drams last night and I woke up wearing it and well...now it's kind of stuck. Fingers got fatter I guess."

"A few shots?" you snickered. "I know how liberal you Scots pour those. According to your mom, ya'll were oot yer tree... errrrr was it off yer trollie?"

Gerry face palmed and grinned, then he sighed as he sat down on the rail. "Both terms would be correct. Look Josie, I'm dealin with a lot. You know that. I got my Mum in there hovering over me as you now know. I got Phil's young, dumb and reckless arse in there to look after and Vic over there in the hospital, still not doing well and now there's you."

You both gazed at each other for a moment, knowing he was reading you like a book and you began to feel sick all over again about what you had to tell him. His eyes already held so much stress and exhaustion and you were about to make it ten times worse.

"Josie...why are you here? What's going on with you sweetness? I can see it in those gorgeous eyes that something's wrong."

He was killing you. Gerry always called you sweetness from day one but it's the first time he had used the term of endearment it in a very long time.

"What ISN'T going on? Like you, I'm being hit at every angle with a new fresh hell every 5 minutes."

"And....you came..to me? Why? Don't you have that pretty doctor to bandage all your wounds?"

Your eyes instantly welled up. "You know what? This was obviously a mistake. I'm sorry for wasting your time."

As you spun around to leave, Gerry leaped off the rail and grabbed your hand, pulling you back. "Wait, wait...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I..I'm just not used to you coming to me for anything or even talking to me much at all for that matter and now here you are, out of nowhere and...."

Gerry paused as he intensely peered down into your glistening eyes. He was still clinging to the littlest bit of hope that someday you would want him back and he couldn't help but wonder if that's why you were there.

His thumb softly caressed the top of your hand as he still held it. "Talk to me baby. Did...did he...hurt you in some way?"

There he went, reading you again like a psychic with that annoying intuition of his. Gerry was certainly meant to be a cop.

"Just stop!" you cried, yanking your hand from his and turning away from him as you softly sobbed. "I am NOT going to talk to you about Lee, so just stop Gerry. Please just stop."

"It's very clear that I'm right but I will respect your wishes."

His then laid a gentle hand upon your shoulder. "But you're crying and you know what that does to me. Did my mum say something to you? I know she tends to overstep...."

You turned, eyes closed as you sighed, then forced them up to his. "No, she was actually more subtle about you and me this time. God, I'm just so fucking frazzled right now."

"I can see that. Ok, take in deep breath, hold it for a second and then just let it go. Here, I'll do it with you, come on. 1, 2..."

"Gerryyyy...that doesn't work." you whined with an eye roll.

"No, don't argue with me. Just do it. One more time, 1...2...3."

On his count of three, you just began blurting things out. "First off, there's how many experienced cops at the Salem P.D. with murder cases and you left that egotistical rookie partner of yours in charge of Elizabeth's case. Does no one realize it's a conflict of interest?? Luke and Lee are at each other's throats over their own issues so HOW is this fair to Lee being a person of interest when Luke's the investigating officer??!! And let's not forget a little girl is missing and it's all my fault! This is one of the reason's I have been trying to reach you because you can be objective and get shit done and speaking of cops, I got pulled over on the way here by Officer over the fucking hill for speeding and he was rude and mean and insulted me all because Jason's my brother, oh and someone busted my fucking tail light out and rusty water keeps coming out of the faucets!!!"

Gerry's response was of simple surprise as he stared at you, lips ajar. "Wow."

"That's it? Wow??"

"Well Josie, there's all kinds of bad shit in this county going on and we only have so many cops who are on pre-existing cases, not to mention the huge drug shit going on so I felt Luke could handle this while I got my shit together since he's highly qualified and all and no, I was not aware of the personal conflicts with him, but now I am and I'll look in to it. I'm sorry I've been distant but I really didn't think I was needed in your life anymore. Bring your car out to the trailer tomorrow if you want and I'll fix it but as far as your plumbing problem, isn't that your mobster landlord's responsibility?"

"Hilarious Gerry. Craig is not a bad guy. His daughter is missing so don't start in on him like you always did Jason who also isn't a bad person like that cop called him and I'm not going to ask Craig to fix my shower when it isn't even broken."

"But you just said..."

"It's not the plumbing. Just never mind. You wouldn't believe me if I told you and that doesn't really matter right now so forget I said anything."

Gerry looked at you with skepticism. "Ok. But what did you mean by isn't?"

"Huh?"

"You said Jason isn't a bad person. Don't you mean wasn't?"

Oh god. You DID say that and you needed to do damage control real fucking fast because this wasn't the first time you had almost let it slip that Jason was alive and Gerry was too damn smart. You hated lying to him but Jason would tell the world his secret when he was ready. In the meantime, you hoped he would find Ethan sooner than later and especially Blaise, but you hadn't a single clue what your undead brother was even doing or where he and Britt were. Did Jason even know what happened to Megan?

"Of....course I meant wasn't Gerry. It was an accident. He's only been gone close to 2 months now. Still don't seem real." you sniffled and wiped the corner of your eye for good measure.

"Alright. I get it. Sorry. Guess I'm still in cop mode and speaking of, so this cop that pulled you over. What's his name?"

"I...I don't know?"

"You got the ticket on you?"

You dug into your purse. "Yeah. Here."

Gerry stood looking it over and then his eyes popped as he chuckled. "82 Josie? Really? Where was the fire? All of this was that important to get here? Anyways, I know this prick."

He crumpled the pink paper up without a care and chucked it into the water. "There. No more ticket."

"Gerry...what are you doing??! I need that!"

"Not anymore you don't. I'll make it go away. One problem solved."

You knew he could too. You just didn't want to ask him to. "I..you...you would do that for me? I mean, with you being all by the book and stuff, no matter who it is?"

"I think you know you're an exception to that rule. I would do anything for you, especially if I can in some way make up for all the pain I caused you."

Your stomach twisted. You couldn't put it off much longer. The truth about Megan.

"Can you make everything else go away too? Lee didn't hurt Liz and he certainly didn't kill her. Please tell me you believe that."

"I've done my research on Lee and no, I don't think he attacked or offed his ex. Honestly JoJo, I think it could be someone else who Elizabeth pissed off which according to Luke's reports, was quite a muckle amount of people, even including you but of course I know that's not the case. I'm leaning more towards someone who wants us to believe Lee did it since he does have quite the motive, but again...I don't feel it was him. Things just don't add up. I think someone was more pissed off at Lee than Elizabeth."

Gerry didn't suspect you but someone certainly tried to make it look that way by planting all that stuff in Lee's car, but you couldn't tell Gerry about that and now your thoughts swirled like a twister, sucking in every person with means and motive to hurt the two of you. Someone who knew Lee's routines.

"Well, there's a large list of those people too. Ethan will always be my first guess. He hates me and that Lee chose me and not him and we all know what he's capable of. Then there's Angel, Lee's neighbor. Another jealousy, woman scorned thing and there's that Carpenter guy. I mean, you witnessed his rage at Lee and there's even..."

You paused, feeling guilty for even thinking it, but your priority was to always protect Lee, no matter who you had to throw under the bus. "There's...your new partner...Luke. Something happened years ago between them Gerry and I don't know what that was but I do know it was really bad and the two of them, as I said, are not getting along. I just think you don't know everything about Luke and I know I don't either, but from what I've seen and from what I DO know, he has a violent streak in him, especially if provoked. Just like his brother Ethan and maybe Luke is using this cop thing to his advantage?? I mean, he was WSB for christ's sake and..."

Gerry shook his head. "Stop. Stop."

But you didn't stop. "No Gerry! Is it really that far fetched?? He's smart as hell. He can easily hide things he don't want people to know. Trust me."

So could Lee for that matter, but you were way past ever thinking it was him and would forever regret that the thought had ever crossed your mind just like the guilty person wanted it to.

"Or maybe he's just doing his damn job. So let me get this straight. You think a former WSB agent is now a dirty cop and my partner at that, just to seek some kind of revenge on his once good friend."

"I..I don't know! It's possible yes?? He knows Lee inside and out."

"I'm smart as hell too and would like to think I am damn good at what I do and the fact that you're standing here implying that I wouldn't see right through a conspiracy like that is rather insulting. I'm telling you Josie, it's not Luke. Until you can give me something concrete as to why Luke would want to hurt Lee, you need to drop it."

"Ok fine. Maybe it's not to hurt Lee? Maybe it was FOR Lee. Luke hated Liz too for what she did to Lee."

"You know, you're definitely right about one thing. Luke is too close to this and needs pulled from the case. With that said, I think you're forgetting a few others with motive to kill Nurse Webber. I mean...let's not forget her ex-husband who she kept his own daughter from, or so called daughter I should say since he believes Blaise to be Ethan's and if that turns out to be true, it's really damn good motive on his part to off her and let's also not forget his line of work, so there's that."

"Nope. Stop it Gerry. Craig did not do it. Leave him alone already. He wouldn't do that to his daughter no matter how much he despised Liz."

"You seem so sure of that and oddly protective of him. What's that all about?"

"None of your business. Now who else? You said a few others."

"Ok, but you aren't going to like it."

"WHO!" you snapped.

The name that came out of his mouth made your skin crawl. "Peter. He's been making some noise lately from within that 6 by 6 of his."

"W...w...what?" you softly stammered in fear.

"I wasn't going to tell you this but out of the blue, he's been demanding to get word to you to come see him and he won't say why, which I think we all know is because he knows about you being with Lee. The warden let me know about it and I've made sure any letters he sends out with your name are never sent."

You shuttered inside. "Just like he sent letters to Britt, wanting her to give them to me."

"She didn't did she? I was under the impression she loathed her sadist brother."

"She does and no. I never saw the letters and I don't want to talk about Pe..." you sighed, unable to even say his name. "Why are you bringing him up?? You're in good with this warden. Get him to put him in solitary confinement where he belongs, like he did to me!!"

"I'm sorry. I said you wouldn't like it. I know what he did to you, kidnapping you and locking you in that morgue drawer. I was there and saved you remember? Or you would have suffocated and believe me, if I could shut him up, I would, but I can only do so much. I'm bringing him up because we all know he has extreme jealous tendencies and access to people on the outside. I think you know where I'm going with this. If he wants to get to you or Lee, he can."

You wanted to tell Gerry so bad what you knew about Lee's past with Luke involving Peter aka Sam Colin and how Lee was using that alias because Luke told him to, but you just couldn't. You trusted Gerry with your life but not Lee's.

"Yeah, I do. He could easily set Lee up to get him away from me which is WHY his communication needs to be revoked!! He's not only the son of an infamous terrorist, but he's one himself and he shouldn't have the privileges he has Gerry! Besides that, do you really think it's his style to frame someone?? He's more of the eraser type.''

"Then why isn't Lee dead already? Peter is his father's son yes, but he wasn't raised by him, only that other whack job son of his was, Charles Rane, who got blown up across the pond years ago."

You felt sick again, because it was Lee who caused that explosion, killing the Rane of terror. If you only knew what happened. The entire story. You would bet money Peter knew. So did Spinelli from intercepting those letters from Peter to Britt. And of course, Jason knew. If only you had listened to his and Lee's entire conversation instead of interrupting them, maybe you would know the truth.

"Does that make Peter any less dangerous?" Gerry continued. "No, but I had been after Cesar for so long and the two couldn't be more different. You should know since Faison was going to kill you the night you got shot, which not to defend Peter, but he meant to hit his father, not you, in an attempt to save you. Cesar eliminates his threats. Peter toys with them. The sadistic fuck likes to watch people suffer. Big difference."

"I swear if you say his name one more time!! And yeah, I know the difference. It's the real reason, which you already know, that my anxiety issues arose and why I'm claustrophobic and scared of the dark and storms! You have no idea what thunder sounds like inside a cold metal box. But in shame, I tell everyone, even Lee, it's because Megan locked me in a crawl space during a storm when we were kids, which was true, but that never damaged me the way that monster did. I...I couldn't fucking breathe. I could still smell the chloroform and I can still see the darkness all around me, stealing my breath like the grim fucking reaper and hear the echoes of my own cries as I called out for you."

"I know...and Peter claimed he was hiding you from his father because you were my girlfriend and Faison would kill you if he found you. Maybe I should go visit the piece of shit because now I'm angry all over again and want to rip his minging heid aff!!"

There was the full blown Scottish accent and you hadn't even told him about Megan yet. "Well maybe someone in prison will get to him first, shank him over and over and over or slip some rat poison in his coffee or something. I bet you could arrange that."

"Haud yer wheesht! What's gotten into you Josie? Just because you're Jason's sister doesn't mean you have to act like him."

"Now YOU haud yer wheesht!"

"I will when you stap yer haverin!"

Your lips pursed and you went to riposte, but Gerry's phone rang. "Saved by the bell. Guess Luke's ears were ringing. I gotta take this. He fills me in from time to time."

As Gerry walked away to talk privately, you went to the sink for a glass of water. Your eyes were on him, trying to listen as you turned the faucet on but he was purposely whispering. Your hand became wet as the glass overflowed and when you looked down, your hand was stained with red water.

"Gerry!!!" you screeched and dropped the glass in the sink, shattering it.

"I'll call you later!" Gerry barked and ran to you. "Fuck Josie, did you cut your hand? Here baby, let me see it!"

"It's not blood Gerry. It's the water!! This is what I told you about! First at Dave's, then at my place and now here. I...I don't know what the fuck is happening. It's like some supernatural sign or an omen or something. Gerry, I feel like something bad is going to happen."

His eye dropped from yours and he became silent as he dried your hand off with a towel.

"Gerry? W..what's wrong? What did Luke tell you??"

He threw the towel down and grabbed another beer. "When were you going to tell me about Megan being kidnapped and attacked?"

"I...I was going to. We were just, you know, talking about all this other stuff and I got distracted. That's all."

"Luke's at the hospital now and asked me if I could find a guard and..."

"You need to! Because I don't think she was expected to be found considering where she was at. Did he speak to her? What did she say? Because she told me and mom she couldn't remember anything just before it happened and during, just that she remembered Dave finding her and...Gerry...she said she feels like it wasn't Ethan but...I don't believe that. She's either scared to rat him out or it's just the trauma."

"Or it's the drugs they found in her system compromising her memory. Her blood panel showed traces of Rohypnol in her system. It's a roofie."

"Oh my god...."

"That's...not all Josie. They uh...they did a rape kit on her and..."

"No...just...no. Tell me she wasn't."

"I...I can't. I'm sorry Josie. Luke said she don't remember it but she was so distraught from the results of both tests that they had to sedate her."

Your eyes burned with tears as your heart began to pound. "M..mom...what about my m...mom?"

"Luke's staying with her for awhile. Still think he's a cold blooded killer?"

"I...I don't know what to think anymore. Gerry...there's more...and it involves you. I need to get this out. It's the entire reason I came here."

"Why do I feel like I'm the one who's not going to like this now? What is it Joey? Oot with it."

You drew in a deep breath like he told you to do earlier, then exhaled long and hard. "Ok. Here it goes. After speaking to Megan today, she decided to do some kind of conscience cleanse and...she...she claims that you and she...never slept together. That she set you up to hurt me."

Gerry turned around with an incredulous sigh, placed his palm on his forehead for a moment, then turned back to you with his mouth hanging open.

"What? Yer bum's oot the windae." he exclaimed, exactly as you predicted he would and still in shock, he questioned again. "What?"

"It's not nonsense Gerry. Trust me, I didn't believe it at first either, but...her demeanor and how she cried her eyes out...it's true Gerry. She admitted to drugging you and even wearing my perfume to get you excited, but the drugs and the alcohol only ended up knocking you out, so she sent me that text from your phone, then took your clothes off and hers and climbed into bed with you, waiting for me to show up the next morning. It was all a fucking set up Gerry because she was jealous of me. I...I'm so sorry." you cried. "I..I...should have known better...I should have believed you when you said something didn't feel right...I..."

And here it came. The blow up you dreaded.

"That clatty cunt!!! Are you fucking kidding me??!! Oh karma sure bit her in the arse now didn't it eh??!! JEE-sus Mary and Joseph what the fuck is wrong with that girl??!! She should be in a fucking mental institution. I cannot even comprehend this right now. She..she ruined everything for us and for what?? Just to make you suffer?? And don't you dare stand here and blame yourself. I wouldn't have believed me either! She's going to fucking pay for this, so help me God."

"Well, as you said, she's already getting her karma."

"Ohhh hell no. She's going to get MY karma. Why am I the only one that's losing my shit here??!! She destroyed us Josie!! My god, did it ever cross your mind that we might still be together and even married?? You would be wearing the rings that go with the one I'm wearing right now!"

"That's ALL that has crossed my mind Gerry!! I'm supposed to be somewhere else right now but I came here. It's why I got fucking pulled over. I kept spacing out with the memories. I literally kept seeing the look on your face when I found you with her and it hurts like hell, all of it and then I get here and you're playing that damn song and my mind went back to those memories too and then I see you with that ring on and...and...and...I...god Gerry...I'm so confused!!"

He finally calmed down and started a conversation that you knew he would but were in no way prepared for. "Why? Why are you confused? My god, I'm innocent sweetness. Does this mean anything to you now? Does it...change...anything? Because nothing has ever changed for me except losing you. I still love you as much as I did then, if not more and..."

"Gerry...please don't."

He came up to you, face to face, pleading his case. "Don't what?? I never fucking cheated on you baby. I never could. That's why it never made any sense and you and me, being apart never made any sense. Do you not feel anything at all for me anymore? Is it really all gone? Because we were crazy as hell for each other and I know I'm not wrong about that. I mean, look what we had. We had a beautiful life. I know we had been through shit after you were shot, with the whole children thing, but we made it through that. We worked hard for what we had. Let's put some more gas in the tank."

"Gerry...I...I'm with Lee now, you know that and I..."

"Are you? Because I'm looking right at you standing here in front of me. Is that where you're supposed to be right now? But you're not, are you? You came to me. You could have waited to tell me all this. What was one more day of letting me feel the agony of losing the best damn thing that's ever happened to me? You couldn't. You couldn't do it. You had to come tell me right away and why? Because it fucking matters to you. I...matter to you, even now, after all this time, even after you moved on with someone else."

"Of..of course it matters to me Gerry! And no, I didn't want you to suffer anymore, not even for one more day..."

He stepped right up against you and placed his large hands on your cheeks, his face merely inches from yours, his warm beer breath showering your lips. "I...matter to you. Say it Josie. Tell me I still matter. Tell me you feel nothing for me anymore. Tell me you don't still love me, not even a little bit."

Tears raced out of your eyes and over his hands as your lips began to quiver. "I...I...Gerry please sto..."

His lips took yours with a fierce passion like he did on the dance floor that night in Galway and you found yourself succumbing to him like you did on the dance floor that night in Galway. The familiarity of his taste, the way his lips moved, the way they felt, the way HE felt all came flooding back to you and you couldn't pull yourself away.

@redeemer46

[iliterallydecepticanteven]

Sorry if that's a dumb question but what is actually going on with milk in America right now?

Like, many years ago I heard that raw milk is basically so good and healthy and all but it wasn't really a big thing at the time. (I can tell by your post tho that that might have been misinformation back then already.)

Now it seems like milk was made political because certain groups just kinda... claimed raw milk as theirs?

I am so confused. I am genuinely from a place where milk is not that political (it is a bit but not to THAT extent) and I am just confused about what's going on.

Especially because I did NOT get my information from groups with a certain mindest politics-wise. Or let's just say it how it is. It seems to me like right-wingers are just fucking claiming milk and it fucks me up so much because how is milk even related to politics in the slightest?

Again, sorry if this is a dumb question and kind of a rant but right-wingers and anti-science people infuriate and confuse me. I am confused.

(Also I don't know what's wrong with raw milk but that might be because it's not a big deal in my country anyway. Never seen raw milk for sale anywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if it's banned entirely tbh.

Alright, buckle up because this is gonna a long answer.

For some background, food has always been tied to politics in America whether people realize it or not. The most recent popularity of raw milk in America being associated with right wing politics and conservatives has its ties in conspiracies that the government is "poisoning" us by "tampering" with our food. Additionally, it can be tied back to the libertarian ideas of having absolutely no government involvement in anything ever including food safety. This is the same thought process behind the whole bullshit of "if you can't pronounce an ingredient then it must be bad for you" as if that makes any fucking sense.

A bunch of bullshit studies that were disproven claimed that raw milk contained more vitamins and minerals and enzymes that were destroyed when milk was pastureuzed, making the milk less nutritional. This is of course bullshit as the only difference between raw milk and safe not raw milk is that it gets pastureuzed. Pastureuzing milk is simply the process of heating milk to just below boiling for a period of time to kill bacteria, viruses, and any other pathogens in the milk. You can even pasteurize milk in your home on your stove top!

But it's become a major talking point and a way for conservatives to make themselves feel important and different, by going against policies in place to make them safe, and to "stick it to the man," so to speak. Conservative and right-wing rhetoric is dependent on being right all the time even when they're very obviously not. It's also very anti-science as, if something cannot be easily explained or is considered a waste of time or money, regardless of how vitally important that thing is, it is cast aside and deemed useless.

Now you mentioned America so I assume you're not from here and this where this gets messy. Because unlike other countries, America often allows states to make their own individual laws on certain issues. For example, regardless of where you are in America, you cannot have an alcoholic drink or purchase alcohol unless you are 21 years or older, as this is a federal law and not a state law. But for selling raw milk, that is a state law, which means all 50 states can make their own decisions on whether or not to allow the sale of raw milk. South Carolina allows the sale of raw milk but it's neighboring state of Georgia does not. To further complicate things, some states don't allow raw milk to be sold in stores but it can be sold on farms.

Finally, the main problem with raw milk is that it is full of (and I'm not joking when I say this) shit. Cows are not clean animals, and while modern milking practices do require that their udders be cleaned with antiseptic prior to milking, it doesn't get rid of everything. Pasteurization is a life saving process to ensure safety when consuming milk as heating it kills off common bacteria that may be present due to contamination from the cow's udders being dirty as well as bacteria that may be in the cow's body and perfectly fine for the cow but would absolutely wreck a human body. The most common bacteria include salmonella, e. coli, and listeria, all of which would make someone incredibly sick and possibly even hospitalize or kill them. The good thing is that those bacteria and other bacteria, viruses, and microbes present in raw milk that could harm humans all die at around 165°F/74°C, and pasteurization heats milk to 182°F/83°C, killing off those microbes and making the milk safe to consume.

So, in short, right-wingers and conservatives are using raw milk as their new anti-government anti-science talking point, just like did with the COVID vaccine, and like they did regular vaccines before that. Don't drink raw milk because best case scenario you'll get sick and worst case scenario you'll die. Also, as a bonus, here is my favorite instance of fuck around and find out from a state legalizing the sale of raw milk:

Basically this guy pushed for raw milk to be legalized in West Virginia and when it was he drank a bunch of it in celebration and a few hours later they found him sick as hell on the couch in his office. It still makes me laugh whenever I see it lol

[cosmicjoke]

Don't misunderstand, this question is not about the ship and I have no ulterior motive to provoke you. In both the anime and the manga, was it because of Erwin's orders that Levi bullied Historia and demanded that she become queen? I see the same rhetoric on Twitter and Tumblr and I wanted to ask you with suspicion and curiosity.

I feel like this is a common misconception about this entire scene, that Levi forced Historia to become queen, when he never did. He didn't bully Historia into becoming queen, nor did he demand it. He told her she had to make a choice, because she did. Either choose to become queen, or don't. He told her to stop being pitiful and decide what she was going to do, and he also explained to her what would happen with each, potential choice. If she chose not to become queen, countless people were going to die, including every member of the Survey Corps, something people don't seem to realize when they go on and on about how "mean" Levi was to Historia. The SC had, at that point, been declared enemies of the nobility, and were being hunted down for execution. If the coup failed and they were unable to overthrow the nobility, they were all going to die, including Historia herself. Historia failing to assume the role of queen also would have lead to the outbreak of a civil war, with the military factions that had sided with the SC going against the nobility and its military factions, like the Interior Police, which also would have lead to countless deaths. Levi got so angry at Historia because she was risking all of that simply because she was more interested in feeling sorry for herself than manning up and doing the right thing. I wouldn't say Levi's response was because of Erwin's "orders", but because of his own frustration and distress over the entire situation. He'd just gotten through torturing a man for the information about Historia specifically, something he clearly wasn't happy about, and she was also threatening to render that exercise futile and pointless with her selfishness. Erwin's orders certainly were behind the coup itself, and Levi helping Hange to torture Sannes was a part of that coup attempt. Levi trusted in Erwin's orders because he believed Erwin was only acting in humanity's best interests, and that's why he was willing to engage in torture and help facilitate a coup. Erwin also obviously conveyed that overthrowing the nobility was necessary for humanity's victory, and Historia needed to be installed as queen in order for the nobility to be overthrown, so in that regard, Erwin's orders influenced Levi's sense of urgency in that moment. But I wouldn't say Erwin "ordered" Levi to get in Historia's face the way he did. That was just Levi's temper getting the better of him because Historia's selfishness was threatening the entire operation and threatening lives in the process.

[halucygeno]

Small, funny bits from Monday Begins on Saturday that I like quite a lot

This is apropos of nothing, but I thought I'd share some micro-jokes from Story #3 of Monday Begins on Saturday that I really enjoy. Quotes are taken from the Andrew Bromfield translation because it's miles better than the alternative (sorry, Leonid Renen).

"Where did it come from, Sasha?" Edik asked politely. I nodded briefly in the direction of Janus’s lab. “What would Janus want with a parrot?” asked Edik. “Are you asking me?” I said. “No, it was a rhetorical question,” Edik said seriously.

Not even sure if it was intended as a joke, but I love how subtle and realistic this small misunderstanding is. Edik is thinking out loud, but because they were talking to each other just a moment earlier, Sasha assumes the question was directed at him. So then Sasha becomes confused, probably thinking something like "why are you asking me? How should I know?" and Edik has to clarify with what is basically "no, I wasn't asking you. I know that you don't know. I'm just thinking about it". I don't know why, but I find this funny. It has zero significance to the characters or plot, but it really helps make the dialogue feel natural.

“That’s no pirate’s parrot,” said Edik. “Ask him about the corpse,” I suggested. “Corpse,” Vitka said unwillingly. “Burrrial cerrremony! Hurrrry! Hurrrry! Addrrress! Addrrress! Verrrbiage! Worrrk! Worrrk!” “He must have had some interesting owners,” said Roman. “What are we going to do?” “Vitya,” said Edik, “I think he’s using spaceflight terminology. Try something simple, more commonplace.” “Hydrogen bomb,” said Vitka. The parrot lowered its head and cleaned its claw with its beak.

I don't know what's funnier: Korneev saying this to spite Edik for seemingly no reason, or him genuinely thinking of a hydrogen bomb as a simple, commonplace object.

“It could be a complex induced hallucination,” said Edik, without opening his eyes. I pressed a finger against one eye and looked at the parrot. I saw two parrots. “I see two of it,” I said. “It’s not a hallucination.” “I said a complex hallucination,” Edik reminded me. I pressed a finger against each eye and went blind for a while.

In Story #1, it's established that Sasha has read about a method of detecting hallucinations where you press a finger against one eyeball, and if the object being observed splits in two, it's real. I find it hilarious that, when told he's dealing with a "complex hallucination", his solution is to try to upgrade this technique by simply increasing the number of eyeballs with fingers shoved into them.

I really like these bits, because I feel that most of Monday Begins on Saturday is written this way. The book is quite funny, but I can't really pinpoint specific "jokes" meant to make me laugh. The comedy isn't telegraphed - it more stems from the general absurdity of the situation, or from these little moments that are so brief, they barely read as jokes.

[topaztimes]

hello! I have finished re-reading Scrimshaw from the beginning. here are my thoughts! some of it is probably not very coherent. sorry about that. im not gonna edit it or anything this all just came from my brain as i was reading. also all of the questions are rhetorical. DO NOT feel like you have to answer them. this is just a stream of consciousness. im sure all will be revealed in later chapters anyway!!

Chapter 1

"You don’t work like that anymore." - voice of the dragon? Will absorbed his dragon due to trauma, if I'm understanding correctly. So the dragon still has a separate consciousness and set of memories? Or Will's soul has been replaced with the dragon's? Dragons' eyes can adjust to darkness! That's cool.

"your creations" - the moon created dragons. All of them? Or just some?

Winston had a collar at some point. Who put the collar on him? If the scales are chipped and scratched then the collar was most likely made of metal. Chains maybe? How did he come into Will's possession?

The dragonets are dragons who absorbed their humans. Can they remember their human selves? Do they still have their human intelligence? It would seem not.

The dragon is Hannibal, right? The stag antlers would seem to suggest as much. But he can't talk in dragon form and seemingly can't remember being a dragon when he is back in human form.

"He felt a flicking sensation by his ear, yelped, and clapped his hand to it." - this feels important. Can't put my finger on what it is yet. I'm guessing that wasn't Winston or Hannidragon? Abigail's dragon maybe? Since it is small. Idk man. More data needed.

Will talking to himself - seemingly two consciousnesses? Is this his human soul and dragon soul talking or just talking to himself? Could be either I suppose.

Chapter 4

How small actually IS Ellie? Are we talking chihuahua size or actual anemone size or what?

OMG I JUST REALISED WILL WANTED TO SEE AN INSECT DRAGON AND ABIGAILS IS A BUTTERFLY THATS SO CUTE

"He quietly mourned the pages of his notebook that he’d have to make edits to." - Will has never encountered anyone without a dragon before, huh. But. He doesnt have a dragon. Right? So why would he assume that No One Else has the same thing. Unless. ???? Will didnt HAVE a dragon and absorbed it, he IS a dragon. Wait wait wait he is a dragon for a Thing??? Like the moon??? And is in human form???? What's Will's Thing??? Is it fish. Its fish isnt it. /hj

Ok but if Will IS a dragon, like Luna, then why does he not know that people not having dragons is a thing. Because Luna knew, right? And she said it like it was a thing that happens reasonably frequently. Unless im misremembering.

Chapter 6

"He saw a man smile in his rearview mirror a couple of times, and impressed himself with how ready he was to accept that the image was himself." - more evidence that Will is a Thing Dragon. I'm on this train now choo choo motherfucker im onto you

“He’s a dragon too,” - hmmmmmmmm. And Will immediately says "What happened to him?" SO HE DOES KNOW. THAT PEOPLE CAN ABSORB DRAGONS. SO WHAT WAS HE GONNA CHANGE IN THE NOTEBOOK. IM SO CONFUSED. AM I MISSING SOMETHING im being stupid arent i. Probably

Chapter 10

Dragon in the woods. Does this dragon belong to someone or is this a Thing dragon? Mischa's dragon?

She's yelling at the ground. Is the ground sentient? Is there an Earth Dragon? Probably.

Shimmerscales says trans rights

So. Mischa had a male dragon. That Hannibal absorbed? And he was a girl at the time so now he's trans. Ok. So the dragon soul replaces the human soul when you absorb it? Or they combine? God what are the fucking mechanics of this im so. I can get it i think i just need to process lmao

So humans also count as Things. A dragon forms for every human born. So, is there a dragon for every single tree, or for the concept of trees as a whole? That's uh. That's a lot of dragons. Do you know how many beetles there are? If there's a dragon for every single beetle. Im overthinking again arent i

The knowledge that you have Read and Comprehended Scrimshaw is actually insane to me. You are absolutely wonderful. I hope to return the favour someday but I need to survive GCSEs first *sobbing emojis

Uh uh!!!! I'll answer the questions that I don't think I'll get around to answering naturally any time soon!! I'm giggling and kicking my feet so much rn you actually have no idea omg

-Winston's collar was there for the same reason dog Winston's was -- he was forgotten about and broke away. Technically this WILL be explained soon but I also think you deserve to know now seeing as you DID draw him (I treasure that drawing so much...) -The flicking is the moon! I didn't explain that very well lmfao -- it happens after he badmouths her but I did NOT elaborate enough. However, the fact that she CAN flick him without being physically present is important... greeheehee -Ellie's like... slightly smaller than a chihuahua. I did a little diagram a while back that I'll put in a reblog when I have my phone lmfao -Abigail being an insect was completely unintentional 💀I wish I was smart enough to think of that intentionally LMFAOO (I KNEW there was a reason why I picked it. I didn't even realise) -Part of Will's notebook is actually the next chapter (is that a spoiler?) so all you have to know for him will be revealed kuahahahah. You are NOT stupid for not knowing because I didn't really elaborate, like. At all. So there's genuinely no way you could have knew LMAO (thank goodness for second, third, fifteenth drafts) -Luna was being silly when she explained how Hannibal's absorption worked so he's going to be figuring out the actual story himself. Basically, take everything she said with a pinch of salt -- like Hannibal is actually -(Also yes. Defo an Earth-dragon. I mean... there's a moon-dragon! But idk if she was thinking of that or if she just wanted to yell at something lolll) -THERE IS A DRAGON FOR EVERY SINGLE BEETLE!!! The finer point is: -Every species is a Thing -Every individual in that species is a Thing So, there's a tree-dragon... and there's also a dragon for every tree. Thing is, dragons change in size based on the Thing's thoughts, so since rocks and things like that don't think at all, their dragons are really small. They do hold little dragon teaparties together though. Also, OTHER people's thoughts can increase the size of a dragon, too! Hence why the moon was a stupid rock, but eons of worship turned her into a big, powerful, shapeshifting dragon.

Everybody in the fic gives you kisses as thanks

[electrasev5nwrites]

Ninja Daily: Clarity 17

"I see that Shizune-san has been taking you around," the blond man said calmly. He was making slightly uncomfortable eye contact, but the soothing quality of his voice and demeanor kept her from feeling too trapped. "How is her company?"

Aiko shrugged one shoulder, still clad in Shizune's kimono. "She seems kind." She paused. "Very helpful and professional. At least outwardly less bizarre than everyone else I've met." She crossed and uncrossed her legs under the table, unable to get completely comfortable wearing so much more fabric than usual. It was a little too warm, especially in a room with no air circulation. Shizune must be a terribly civilized person to wear a pretty kimono everywhere.

A tiny wrinkle formed between the man's eyebrows. "Oh?"

"Yepp." She popped the 'p' sound and raised one eyebrow, pretending that her heart wasn't thumping against her chest. "I met the Godaime-Hottie, Jiraiya-sama, and some really grumpy medic who sucks at hide and seek. Also he hit me with a clipboard," she tattle-tailed confidentially, leaning forward and lowering her voice. "I think he has temper problems."

He'd kept a straight face throughout her recitation of thoroughly inappropriate commentary, but the strangest expression crossed Ponytail's features for just a moment at the last bit. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said delicately, folding his hands on the table. "I believe that the young man you speak of would be Tsunade-sama's apprentice, Sasuke-san. You have been acquainted with him in the past."

Aiko shrugged, pretending not to notice the way his voice lilted up in a subtle invitation for her to pursue that line of conversation. She didn't care one way or the other about the grumpy medic, and certainly didn't care to hear about the fun times they'd had back in the good old days that she couldn't remember. She was just trying to get a reaction out of her interrogator to get a measure of his character. The man had to be more than he seemed to be. He didn't appear terribly intimidating. It might have been the bedazzled purple scrunchie he was rocking, though.

'Everyone here is eccentric. Obito was right about that at least.'

"In any case." Ponytail coughed once, gracefully letting the last topic go. "You may call me Inoichi. I thought that we would talk for a while about your recent experiences and thoughts. How does that sound, Aiko-san?"

'Awful. How about we not do that?'

Aiko leaned back in her hard metal chair, scuffing her foot back and forth across the concrete floor. "Fine with me, Ponytail."

He didn't so much as blink, which was off-putting. He wasn't reacting like he should be and she didn't like that. He was hard to read. "Alright. Why don't you tell me about your time out of the village?"

That was such an open-ended question that Aiko didn't know what to do with it. She opened her mouth, and felt her eyebrows furrow.

'How do I sum up a year of my life? I don't even know what he wants to hear.'

Slowly, she rubbed a palm against her thigh, resisting the urge to glance down when her hand didn't run over a weapons pouch with the motion. Of course it didn't. They'd taken away all her weapons.

Ponytail gracefully pulled her out of her head with a soothing hum, still sounding perfectly calm and unconcerned. "That's fine, Aiko-san. We can try another tack. When you were brought into the village, you were not in the best physical condition," he prompted. Hay-yellow lashes caught the dim light when he blinked slowly. "What happened that day? We do have some questions that you could possibly help us fill in about an encounter that the shinobi who rescued you had. Hatake-san theorized that your injuries had been inflicted by Akatsuki. Is that accurate?"

Something gnawed in her chest at that clinical summation. "Yes."

'but it was an accident.'

She swallowed the defensive reaction, letting him assume the worst of Obito. Aiko genuinely had been trying to leave Akatsuki: that was what she should rhetorically emphasize. Obito could look after his fuckin self, apparently. He didn't need her help.

"When most of Akatsuki left, I attacked the man who was watching me and tried to leave. There were … complications, and I didn't go fast enough before he came back."

It was all true, but the words tasted sour rolling off her tongue. Aiko was too caught in her thoughts to notice that Inoichi's gaze sharpened at the subtle emphasis she put on 'he'.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Ponytail sympathized.

'Me too.'

Inoichi nodded to Keiko politely as he passed her to enter Tsunade's office. Jiraiya had apparently been downgraded to 'doorstop' sometime recently. He wasn't excelling at the job. The toad sannin let go slightly too early, nearly letting the door shut on Inoichi before leaning against the wall.

Having a conversation with an S-level shinobi at his back would have been an unsettling experience for many shinobi, but Inoichi didn't bat an eye. "Hokage-sama," he greeted. When he pulled up from an immaculately proper 45 degree bow, she was regarding him impassively.

"Inoichi-san." Tsunade-sama shuffled the papers on her desk, ostensibly so that she was looking at Aiko's file. "Please proceed with your findings."

He'd already planned how he would summarize his report, so he easily complied. "In my opinion, Uzumaki-san isn't a threat to Konoha's interests. With the proper treatment, she can be re-acclimated to her old position. In time, she may even regain the majority of her memories. The question of whether or not she will be ready to put on a show for Konan-san's trial is less certain, however."

"Why?" Tsunade-sama folded her hands, not paying her papers one bit of attention. "You implied that she's relatively stable."

"I didn't say that," Inoichi corrected mildly. A pale face swam across his mind's eye with the same cautiously blank expression the girl had worn for most of her interview. "At the moment, she's far from it. The leader of Akatsuki did a great deal to ensure that she was emotionally invested in his interests and person. She has built him up to an infallible, near mythic status in her mind. He was the center of her world and her most important person." Tsunade curled one side of her lip in revulsion, so Inoichi hurriedly added, "In a platonic sense." He cleared his throat, and pitched his voice back down again. "Uzumaki-san was injured after she attempted to leave Akatsuki, which would indicate that she is unlikely to return to him willingly. However, she thinks it is inevitable that he will find her again, and even looks forward to it. Uzumaki-san wants to settle some sort of grudge."

Jiraiya snorted. "That's vague."

"That was one of the topics she was cautious to avoid." Inoichi spread out his hands, palms up. "On the whole, she was forth-coming with what she thought I wanted to hear. Uzumaki-san isn't hiding much, but she definitely does not trust Konoha's benevolence. I chose not to push. She was already aware that she is a Konoha kunoichi and assumed that she would be required to resume that role in time. As she begins to feel more comfortable and trusting, she will open up."

"How do I make that happen?" Tsunade asked seriously. A bit of breeze from the open window behind her rustled her hair over her shoulders. "She might have information about Akatsuki that could help us keep Naruto safe."

Ignoring the spontaneous Hero Wind, Inoichi cast his mind back to exactly what he had concluded. "I respectfully suggest that you assign her to a Yamanaka mind expert working in collaboration with an expert in trauma and repression in order to do what we can to prompt her memories and encourage her to ruminate on the ones that she has re-acquired. Other than that, keep her in the village and with other Konoha shinobi in order to re-integrate her. She will need to re-learn social norms. Her viewpoint is very much skewed by what Akatsuki chose to expose her to."

The Sannin exchanged glances that gave away little, but some of the tension in the muscles around Jiraiya's eyes relaxed.

After he realized no one else was going to speak, Inoichi cleared his throat. "It's going to be a slow process and she needs to make overtures on her own. Uzumaki-san chose to leave Akatsuki because she realized that her supposed friend had intentionally cultivated a relationship with the intention of manipulating her. Anyone who reaches out to her will be viewed with similar suspicion. She's going to be misbehaving and pushing boundaries," he warned. "Uzumaki-san is waiting for the other shoe to drop and see Konoha expose less than altruistic intentions. Let her make the first overtures of interest, but be sure that someone is ready to talk to her about anything or anyone she expresses interest in."

Tsunade sighed, letting her bangs cover her face and rubbing at a temple, but her lips twitched. "So, we definitely won't be locking her in a room with her brother and letting him use the power of love on her."

Inoichi somehow kept a straight face. "She might actually run screaming if he did. I gained the impression that excessive honesty and expressions of affection are difficult for Uzumaki-san."

That almost wasn't worth commenting on. That was true for almost every shinobi.

"So she's basically the same person. She just doesn't remember why she should give any of us the time of day and has a new, debilitating mistrust of people who are nice to her," Tsunade summarized dryly. Jiraiya gave an uncomfortable cough from the back of the office.

"Also puppets for some reason," Inoichi said contemplatively.

There was a beat of silence while Jiraiya's eyebrows shot up at that bit of trivia.

"No, that's an old issue." Tsunade dismissed. She folded her hands and rested her chin on them. "So, where should we put her? I can't leave her in the hospital. Her old landlord could probably find a place for her, but that wouldn't provide enough supervision. She might have to go back to stay with Naruto and Karin..." The Hokage trailed off at the grimly amused shake of Inoichi's head.

"Not unless you think they will be able to treat her as a stranger and not push for an emotional attachment before she was ready to reciprocate." The grimace Tsunade didn't hide was almost expected. That was what he had thought. "She has to have space to be alone when she wants to be," Inoichi cautioned. "If she's knows that she is under watch all day, Uzumaki-san is going to snap. After a few days, someone can suggest that she go home as long as they don't pressure her. Other than that, I would put her with someone she isn't threatened by and give her a schedule to keep with a set training partner. Probably someone that she's already met so that she isn't being overwhelmed with new people."

Tsunade slowly let one eyebrow rise, not in the mood for guessing games.

"If you were to ask her opinion," Inoichi sighed. "I'm relatively certain that she'll request to stay with Shizune-san." He ticked off possibilities on a hand. "Your other apprentice seems to have bludgeoned her with a clipboard, she finds you intimidating, and putting her with Jiraiya-sama would be a terrible idea." He could all but feel the older man welling up with indignation, but he remained firm and explained his position. "She is under the mistaken impression that Jiraiya-sama is a writer of considerable talent. Given the chance to learn from and emulate his behaviors-"

"Shizune it is," Tsunade interrupted in a strange sort of tone that implied her throat was closed up. She cleared her throat and sat up straight. "Although she doesn't have time to train Aiko; she's far too busy getting ready for when I have to leave. I'll give that duty to someone else."

There was a moment of sullen silence. "I'm offended by that whole conversation," Jiraiya muttered, kicking the wall. "You can't keep me away from her, anyway. You need me to help her get Hiraishin back so that no one else knows something is wrong. My goddaughter is the only one that has taste."

"Bad taste," Tsunade said firmly.

Inoichi shrugged mildly, ready to go back to his home. "She also referred to you as the 'Godaime Hottie.'"

Tsunade paused for a moment, and amended, "Her literary taste is bad." Her lips twitched.

Yamanaka Inoichi hastily left, trying not to hear the sound of breaking glass behind him or Tsunade-sama ordering her old teammate not to look so damn smug.

That night, Aiko stepped cautiously through the doorway that her guide held open. This wasn't her first choice- she'd much rather be alone- but it was much better than going back to the hospital or interrogations. Or staying out on the street. There were just so many people and the skin on the back of her neck wouldn't stop prickling. It felt like they were staring, though she hadn't caught anyone at it.

'I want to go home.'

She closed her eyes, just for a moment and took a steadying breath.

'Not that I have a choice.'

She should behave. Whatever impression she left on Shizune could influence how these people treated her and how long she was forced to see their hack psychologists. It couldn't be an accident that she had been sent to live with the Hokage's assistant. The woman she had been given to was influential.

With that in mind, she resolved to step carefully.

Her mouth tasted sour. "Thank you for having me." Aiko shucked the clear plastic sandals that someone had found for her at the door, peering into Shizune-san's warm, sunny home. Like most Konoha citizens, she lived in an apartment complex. Most of them couldn't be this swanky, however. From what she could see, it was a sprawling open room filled with bamboo, tiny bonsai trees, and tanks filled with little orange goldfish.

'Of course the Hokage's apprentice doesn't live like everyone else.' Aiko gave the least obvious sniff that she could, noting that the faint scent of Shizune's floral shampoo and the tang of hospital air-freshener prevailed. Well. The poor woman probably couldn't do a thing about that aspect of feng shui.

"It's no problem at all. I hope you don't mind that I don't have a proper guest room. I have a futon that will fit well in my office." Shizune padded ahead of her barefoot, running a hand through her hair. "Would you like anything to drink? I'm sure that Inoichi-san kept you talking." She sounded rueful. "He's chatty."

'Yes, he is.'

Aiko purposefully refrained from commenting and made a noncommittal sound as she followed her hostess to the doorway of the kitchen. That… was a lot of counter space. Aiko raised her eyebrows, not trying to hide that she was impressed. If she had made a prediction, Aiko would have guessed that Shizune's home was as utilitarian as she seemed to be. That was not so. If anything, it seemed like a zen sanctuary.

'She's confident in her abilities. No one who wasn't would live in a home with big windows like that.'

While Shizune's back was turned, Aiko palmed a kitchen knife off the counter and slipped it under her obi. It was good to have steel in her hands again. "Whatever you have would be fine," she said belatedly when Shizune gave her a questioning look. The older kunoichi returned from the fridge with a carton of juice a moment later.

She liked Shizune reasonably well, and the fact that the older woman went to bed early did give her a comfortable amount of space. Aiko still slept with her filched knife hidden under her pillow. She would have felt much better if they hadn't taken away her weapons and gear. Uneasy, she tossed and turned for a hideously long time, considering and discarding nervous predictions about what the next day would bring.

'If I don't piss them off, they'll have to give me my things back. Or something comparable. They don't have me here out of the kindness of their hearts- they'll want me to work eventually. I can't do that in a hand-me-down dress with my bare hands.'

Morning dawned with oppressive brightness into Shizune's flat. Aiko woke suddenly, muscles tense and still for a long minute before she realized that she was alone.

The knife was gone. In its place was a well-worn sleeping cap in the shape of a walrus. She picked it up and gave it a quick sniff, frowning. The scent it carried was… comforting, safe. Her head reeled. Aiko barely noticed burying her nose in the soft fabric to breathe it in. Lavender detergent, spiced shampoo, and a little bit of sweat that hinted at the personal chemistry of the person who'd worn it. Someone male and young. She closed her eyes. It had to mean something. Someone was making a point. Someone who could reach under her head without waking her was trying to make a point.

'I don't get it.'

She tossed the thing aside and tried not to focus on the way her stomach lurched.

Still clad in Shizune's extra dress, Aiko made her way out to the kitchen where Shizune was seated with a newspaper and a cup of coffee from some shop with a cheerful blue logo. She glanced up and then tilted her head toward the counter where another beverage sat. "I didn't know what you like, so I just got you a cappuccino. I hope that's alright."

'The hell is a cappuccino?'

Aiko nodded and took her drink to the table. She took one sip and carefully controlled her features.

'Awful. That's what it is. It's mind-bendingly bad.'

Subtly, she scraped her tongue against her upper teeth to try to get the taste off. Shizune didn't look up from her paper, clearly preoccupied with whatever was going on in the inner pages.

"I have work in an hour and a half. Do you know what you would like to do for the day?" Paper rustled as Shizune flipped over to another section, glancing over at Aiko for a moment. She somehow looked perfectly composed even though it was five in the morning.

When was the last time she'd been awake before seven? Aiko couldn't help but remember that she hadn't brushed her teeth and that her hair was probably one big knot. Self-consciously, she poked at her hair. Yes. It was matted in the back. Why wouldn't it be?

Shizune's voice sounded wryly amused. "Ah. Yes. I'm afraid I don't have time to take you out, but you definitely need supplies. I'll request a budget from Tsunade-sama and have someone sent over who will accompany you."

"I can shop on my own," Aiko rebutted sharply, puffing up.

'What does she think, I'll get lost in the scary new village? I'm not a child.'

"I know," Shizune said mildly. "But someone who knows where the shinobi outfitters are would be a helpful guide, and they might as well keep you company while I'm gone. It'll probably be one of Tsunade-sama's poor beleaguered Chuunin assistants. They would prefer carrying your groceries to running messages and filing."

Aiko didn't buy the implication that she would be doing anyone a favor but relented, shaking her head. Pride was nice, efficiency was nicer. "Fine." She blew air out of the side of her mouth and deflated. "What time should I expect this person?"

Shizune shrugged one shoulder. "Half an hour to an hour after I leave, perhaps. If you can't wait, you can shower with my things and pull another dress out of my closet."

Sharing soap? She couldn't be serious. Aiko skated right past that suggestion. She'd never shared basic hygiene supplies before and she wasn't about to start. That was just a little weird. She didn't want to smell like Shizune.

Waiting half an hour didn't sound so bad. She could wait a while to take care of basic hygiene and try not to ruminate on who had washed the rock dust and blood off her body while she'd been unconscious (or why she sort of smelled like hand sanitizer). What was another half an hour of ickness against the luxury of getting her own clothes and shampoo?

Of course, Shizune turned out to be a big fat liar. The man who showed up two hours later was almost certainly not some beleaguered Chuunin. He wore the Konoha flak jacket, yeah, but no Chuunin moved like that.

Also, she recognized him.

"Yo." Hatake 'Bakashi' raised a single palm on the other side of Shizune's doorway. He was slouched casually, but he still loomed over her.

The man that Obito had thought about as some weird rival didn't look like a mouth-frothing friend-killer, but looks could be deceiving.

Her fingers tightened on the door. He could well be very dangerous, no matter that he'd been her teacher at some point. Everything she'd been told indicated so.

On the other hand, she wasn't proscribing to Obito's worldview anymore- so that one-sided rivalry might be a good sign so far as Hatake's character went. He might be a really nice guy who hugged puppies and big fluffy bunnies.

She stalled for a moment, paralyzed in the face of making that judgment with so little information. Her heart was pounding and breath didn't want to come. Air, where was the air gone to?

Bakashi tilted his head slightly in inquiry, his hand falling back to his side.

Aiko shut the door in his face and locked it.

'Nope. Not dealing with that right now.'

There was a knock a few seconds later, as if he was mildly confused. She ignored it and went to take a shower, fed up with waiting in yesterday's clothes.

Floral scented bath luxuries weren't that awful. It could be worse, Aiko reminded herself firmly, pretending she wasn't rubbing someone else's handtowel on her skin. But- ugh, it was so unsanitary. With a shudder, she turned off the water and fled as soon as humanly possible, heart pounding a tattoo against her throat.

Stupid. She had bigger problems. Like the fact that she was supposed to be meeting someone for a training session in two hours. Would Konoha decide they didn't want her if she wasn't up to par?

Aiko chewed on her lower lip and tried to soothe the roiling in her gut with tea. She ended up pouring most of it down the drain and pacing in the small space available.

'I have to impress whoever they send. I don't want to find out what will happen if they don't want me anymore.'

The next time someone was at the door, the man on the other side was less visibly suspicious than Bakashi. He offered her a slightly crooked smile, displaying vividly white teeth.

'Someone listened to their mom when she said to brush three times a day. That smile is beautiful. He should be on posters. It's almost unreal.'

Actually, with the rock-solid build, square jawline, and painfully wholesome aura that her visitor owned, he looked shockingly like-

"You look like an underwear model," Aiko said bluntly, tilting her head to the side. "Are you?" Her foot tapped against the floor with poorly restrained nervous energy. This was the person she was supposed to fight? Was she supposed to be able to beat him? Could she? Hard to tell.

He didn't even blink. "Hello, Aiko-san," came the calm reply. "I'm Yamato, a Jounin shinobi of Konohagakure, and the Hokage has asked me to assess your current level. Are you ready to go?" His hair, somewhere between 'clean-cut' and 'intentionally messy', did not waver in the breeze from the open window in the stairwell. She suspected hair gel.

'A Jounin, huh? So, that's a tentative no to the underwear thing, but I'm still nursing suspicions.'

"Sure." Aiko placed a palm in the center of his chest and propelled him out of the way, using the grip to roughly gauge his musculature. Her free hand pulled the door shut behind her with a soft click. "Lead on, Nadeshiko."

'He's got a lot of muscle on me. I think he's physically stronger than Obito even. Close ranger fighter, or something that involves heavy work.'

He might be slow, then. Slow-twitch, bulky muscle could weigh down a shinobi. Then again, she probably wasn't supposed to kill him and most of her techniques were lethal by design to avoid a drawn out fight. Damnit.

"I wish you wouldn't call me that," Yamato protested mildly, disentangling her hand from his vest and turning to jog down the stairs. "That pun finally died out a few months back and I was glad to see it go."

'Someone else beat me to that? I thought it was a good pun.'

Her expression soured, just a bit. "Yamato it is." The last of her quietly spoken words were nearly swallowed by the wall of sound that washed over them when Yamato pulled open the door. A hot wave of air carried in hundreds of murmuring voices, the groaning of wagon wheels, and distant shrieking from happy children.

'It's awful.'

She had to steel herself to take the first step outside into the fray.

It was positively surreal. How had she gone from living with Obito to… to here, in this crowded mess of a city?

"I can't help but notice that you seem to be underequipped." Yamato paused for a moment on the stoop before he pushed out into the crowd, rubbing at his jaw with a finger. "Is that… intentional?"

Aiko twitched, rubbing her index finger against her thumb. "No," she said shortly. "Shizune said that someone would take me to get equipment, but the person who showed up was so sketchy that I shut the door in his face."

Yamato made a small sound of agreement, as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. "Ah. Suh-keh-chi?" he asked carefully, as though the syllables were slightly foreign to him.

"Very." She flicked her gaze up to his profile, matching her stride to his and keeping a little closer to his side than she would like. He was pretty good at clearing a path through the throngs of people out doing their shopping. "Bad posture, messy hair, suspicious mask, and he was definitely not a Chuunin. Shizune told me to expect a Chuunin. I detected shenanigans and locked the door." She carefully did not contemplate that her reasons had been rather more personal than his unkempt, seriously suspect appearance. Yamato didn't need to know that. Aiko skirted slightly behind Yamato for a moment to avoid a woman carrying a large basket before darting back out to catch up.

'Wow, there are a lot of people out. I don't think I've been to anywhere that even sort of compares in terms of population density. Are all shinobi villages like this? They're packed in like animals.'

Yamato swallowed, face painfully blank. "I suppose it is important not to wander off with suspicious characters."

"Oh, definitely," Aiko agreed, watching two scruffy children race, both holding what appeared to be younger siblings on their shoulders. "Come to think of it, I probably should have made sure you were the right person; but you just don't seem that suspicious and you were actually on time."

"Your caution does you credit," he managed in a slightly higher, stiff tone.

'I was serious. Is he making fun of me?' She shot a suspicious glance up at her companion, managing to nearly blind herself on a glint of light from his metal face-place. That did make it harder to read his face. Maybe that was why he had it?

A flash of purple stapled to a telephone pole caught her eye- an advertisement for some kind of festival game calling for registration, apparently. Aiko looked at it a moment longer than strictly necessary, more interested than the sheet warranted.

'Why do I want to sign up? Am I suddenly eight or something?'

"Aiko-san?" She started guiltily and stepped quickly to catch back up, noting the tension in her escort's well-muscled neck.

Her face colored. "I'm here, I'm here."

Yamato made a humming sound, but paid more attention to her after that. Gradually the crowds thinned and the buildings transitioned from brightly-painted, oddly shaped multi-story affairs to sprawling traditional homes interspersed with occasional tall gates, numbered from 18 to 24. Yamato took her to gate 25 and pushed it open with a tap of chakra and a palm to display tall, healthy grass sprawling over a lightly hilled area. A cluster of trees in the distance cut off her sight.

'This is a Konoha training ground?' Aiko sucked on her lower lip, taking it in. It looked more like a small park than anything. She could smell the fresh scent of fast-moving water somewhere nearby to the east.

'Fancy.' She couldn't help but sneer, just a little bit. 'Obito and I did just fine with the backyard and mountain steppes by our safehouses. You don't need a specially designed field.'

Then again, when you lived in an industrial area, maybe you did. If Konoha hadn't specially set aside land, their shinobi wouldn't have any room to workout. In other words…

'I'm kind of an insufferable snob.'

Chastened by her own thoughts, Aiko scratched behind her ear and ducked her head a bit. Yamato was closing up the field- probably to ensure that no one else wandered into the middle of their practice and risked bodily harm.

"So." She spun slowly to survey the area, clasping her fingers in front of her body. "What are we trying to accomplish?"

"Today, I think we'll just gauge your current level. Without your weapons you won't be fighting at one hundred percent, so don't feel too pressured."

Aiko nodded, acknowledging that she understood.

'Oh, that's good. Not as much pressure as I'd thought. Konoha is a little soft.'

That was good, though. She didn't want to have to use her Rinnegan. No one had asked about her eyes. Maybe they didn't know.

She moved to settle into an athletic stance, and jolted back into reality when the tight material of Shizune's dress restricted her movement around her ankles. That was going to be annoying. Actually… Aiko bent to hitch the fabric up, tying it to the side against her thigh.

A high-pitched "urp" sound eeked out of Yamato's throat. She jerked up to see what was wrong, only to see that he was pointedly looking away from her.

"What's the matter with you?" Aiko frowned, finishing tying the ends of Shizune's kimono and checking her range of movement now. Not great, but okay.

"Nothing." Yamato coughed, clearing his throat. "Nothing is wrong."

With an eye-roll, she slipped into a defensive stance. "Just attack me already." She still didn't want to attack him. She didn't have her weapons, any poison, and jutsu could be too dangerous. She'd never fought with anyone other than Obito that she didn't want to kill. She didn't know how to be safe with them.

Instead of arguing, Yamato flowed forward in a surprisingly swift movement to engage her in taijutsu with a low kick. She jumped over the side-sweeping leg and darted behind him, ducking under the punch that followed when he twisted after her.

'I was wrong. He's not slow.'

He wasn't as fast as Obito, though, and that was good enough. Some motions were closer than others, but she managed to move away from every blow. After a few minutes she gritted her teeth and made an offensive movement of her own, throwing a technically perfect but underwhelming punch. He bent over backwards at the waist and moved into a flip, nearly managing to clip her well with a double-kick. She moved back so fast that she felt whiplash, fuzzy spots crawling over her vision.

"Stop." Yamato tossed his head some time later, as if to get sweaty bangs off his face. Again, his hair remained still. Definitely gelled into place, then. "Let's try ninjutsu." He had to have read the trepidation on her face but he widened his stance and held his hands in a seal. "Wood style!"

'Wait, what?'

She froze, mind sputtering on what she was seeing instead of picking a counter technique. The material that rocketed at her was much darker and thicker than Obito's vines, but it was the same technique.

'This can't be that common. I know Yamato. He's the training partner that I thought of when Obito first used this on me.'

The instant of hesitation cost her- her mind blanked on a suitable ninjutsu, and she threw her body out of the way instead. The wood curled back at her, giving her barely enough time to side-step and brace a hand on it to flip over.

"Aiko?" Yamato called out, confused. "Use ninjutsu. How about your chakra chains?"

Oh. That'd work. She jumped backwards, welling chakra along her spine.

Using her chakra chains was more annoying than anything, really. They were bulky and kind of clunky- not really fast enough to cut through the wood ninjutsu that Yamato could hurl at her (and that explained his physical strength, wood was heavy). Aiko ended up doing almost as much dodging as before, carefully positioning herself so that she could make token swipes that cut at the seemingly never-ending barrage her training partner could summon up.

Yamato only called a halt once her breath was coming in ragged gasps and sweat was tickling at her hairline, slipping behind an ear. She ducked her head to rub at the trickle with a shoulder. One hand trailed down to tug at the kimono where it was sitting heavy and lopsided against her leg. Kami, that was hot. She needed to get some shorts before she had to do this again. Shizune was nuts, just totally nuts.

Politely, her training partner averted his eyes while she fiddled with her clothes. He wasn't as worn out, but then again, he'd been more stationary. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving." He scratched at an arm, fingers slipping under the sleeves he had rolled up to his forearms.

'I would rather shower than eat, but I'm still short on clothes.' Aiko tried not to be too obvious about plucking the dirty, sweaty material of the kimono away from her chest.

In the corner of her eye, she could see Yamato glance at her with poorly hidden amusement. She couldn't blame him.

"You'll take me to get some things after?" she prodded.

His closed-mouth smile was even cuter than the big boy-next-door one. "If you don't think I'm too suspicious."

She reared back and punched him in the arm, a little vexed when he didn't even try to dodge. "Shut up and take me to dinner."

Dinner turned out to be at a cozy barbeque joint, fragrant with burning woods and heavy spices. Yamato took a four-person table by the back of the restaurant and glanced over at the kitchen. As if summoned by ninjutsu, a long-limbed teenager appeared at their table with a notebook and a bedazzled pen that tap, tap, tapped against the paper.

"Water for me."

Aiko glanced up through her lashes, still preoccupied by the menu. "I'll have a dark cola."

Their tanned, androgynous waiter gave a little headshake to coerce loose bangs out of the way, not even bothering to scribble their order. They heaved an enormous sigh that pulled the white fabric of their uniform across their chest. "I would love to get that for you."

She pressed her lips together to keep from smirking at the unenthused lie. Yamato's eyebrows shot up, but he didn't say anything until they were alone again.

"You must have been doing a lot of work." He fiddled with his menu, rubbing at the laminated paper with a thumb. "I don't know what I expected, but that wasn't it."

'He used to know me.' Aiko furrowed her brow and tried to read his expression. 'How well? Are we friends or just training partners? I can't tell.'

For a moment, she really wanted to ask. If she could believe what he'd tell her, she would have. Aiko gave a noncommittal grunt, shrugging one shoulder.

"You're light on your feet," Yamato tried again. His gaze flicked up to the returning waiter and he accepted his drink in the same motion that he pointed out his order. "Thank you." Seamless, he looked back to her. "I think we should work on your blocking and offense, however. You're hesitant. Is it a lack of aggression, or-?"

Aiko shook her head, pulling her lips off her straw. "No. I just didn't want to hurt you. The blocking is a fair assessment, I prefer to move out of the way."

That, and that Obito hadn't wanted her to get into those close-range fights. That had been remarkably short-sighted of him, now that she thought about it. Was that really how his 'Rin' had been? She curled a lip. Not impressive.

"That's not always plausible or practical." Yamato twisted his drink, turning the cup so that the water inside swirled. "You should at least be comfortable with your ability to block and minimize impact when you can't move out of the way."

The sick sensation of flying occurred to her again. The moment of weightlessness before a painful fall down sharp rocks. Aiko took a sharp breath and clenched her jaw, breathing slowly to concentrate on the present. "Yeah."

'I can see my reflection in the table. That's clean.' The wavery girl blinked up at her, dark splotches growing and moving on the yellow ceramic with the motion. A white dish settled in front of her with a clatter to break the reverie. Steam washed up over her face.

"You were worried about hurting me?"

The question took a moment to register. When Aiko remembered what he was referring to, she blinked. "I just…" She shook her head slightly, prodding at her food.

"We can work on that." Yamato picked up a piece of meat with his chopsticks and let heat waft off of it. "Hesitance is normal when sparring with a new partner. You'll learn when to push and when to hold back."

The tension in her chest loosened. She nodded, putting something savory in her mouth so that she didn't have to come up with a response.

'He's just so freaking nice. Is this guy for real?'

The ambient noise of clattering dishes and quiet conversations was gone. Something was wrong. Aiko registered that Yamato's expression was more chagrinned than panicked as she twisted to view the restaurant. It wasn't hard to find the disturbance. Almost everyone in the place had stopped to look at two young men that had walked in. The patrons that weren't looking were carefully not looking. The only exception was some poor man pouring over what looked like papers in need of grading, tapping a pencil against the base of his high ponytail.

'What the hell is wrong with these new people? I'm the only international criminal I recognize here. If anything, I should be the one getting stared at.'

With a start, she realized that she recognized one of dark-haired young men. The slightly shorter figure was the grumpy medic nin. The other man could have been his brother- they had the same svelte build, pale skin, and dark eyes set over beautiful cheekbones. The new man was even cuter than his medic friend, but that might have been the lack of a scowl. He seemed stiff and miserable under the scrutiny.

Aiko couldn't help but remember the weight of stares on her back when she had walked with Shizune last night.

'Me too, buddy. Me too.'

She wouldn't have cared in the slightest, if the medic hadn't seen and gifted her with a curt nod that momentarily drew the crowd's attention to her. She was dismissed almost as quickly. Something about those men was mesmerizing, apparently.

'I don't see the appeal. They're attractive, but they're not that attractive. And this seems hostile, anyway. Something else is going on. No one stared at the grump before… So the problem is probably the other man.'

Aiko turned back to the table, but kept her ears pricked while the two men seated themselves only two tables away. In the still restaurant, the beginnings of their conversation were easily audible.

"When must you return to the hospital to complete your paperwork?"

People were still staring. Aiko could tell that even without looking up.

'Maybe they think that if they just ignore people long enough, people will ignore them?'

"Tomorrow afternoon. I took the morning off. You're coming with me to work with Sai's team." The medic's voice raised, losing warmth. "Can I get a menu?" Belatedly, he added, "Please," in a long-suffering tone.

Aiko stifled a snort, meeting Yamato's eyes. And then she couldn't look away, wondering at the deep concern she saw there. Was something actually wrong? Why was he looking at her like that?

The waitress's "Of course," seemed to break the wall of silence that had afflicted the restaurant. The murmur of conversation and clatter of dishware obscured that quiet, pointedly polite discussion from her hearing.

She turned her attention back to her food and took a big bite. Whatever was going on, it wasn't any of her business.

Yamato cleared his throat, blinking for the first time in what seemed like several minutes. "Ah. So, do you have any hobbies?"

Reading pornography. Small-time drug smuggling. Being the unwilling subject of an ocular fetish.

'No, none of that gives quite the right impression. I don't want him to think badly of me.'

"Amateur art critic."

His eyebrows shot straight up, composure lost.

Aiko kept a straight face. "Just last week, I reviewed the most unfortunate antique piece of statuary." She paused deliberately. "It was accidentally maliciously destroyed."

'That part, I don't regret, no matter how cranky the Hokage is about me releasing demons on our allies. I wouldn't ever do it again; too dangerous.' She paused. 'I mean, if I could teleport to safety like Obito, I would break that statue that over and over again. I would do that to a soundtrack and commission someone to take photos. The whole situation was deeply funny.'

She took a moment to picture herself posing next to two bijuu making a peace sign while ugly pottery fell around them like confetti. Just Aiko and her basics. No big.

'I'm going to regret the missed opportunity for the rest of my life, aren't I?'

The tension seeped out of his shoulders when she couldn't help but smile. He was probably under the mistaken impression that she had been telling a joke, but Aiko was willing to let it go. The only thing interrupting the moment was quiet coughing from a table behind her.

"Pity," Yamato said gravely, lifting his glass in a solemn toast to lost statuary.

The rest of her day was a bit of an emotional let-down. Konoha didn't want to get rid of her. They wanted to help her be the best she could be. The positivity and general goodwill wafting in her direction was sickening.

'If this is how Konoha treats people like me, maybe I should have been leery about the pretty boy. He must be a baby kicking lunatic. I mean, what do you have to do in this town to get a little fear and respect?'

"It wasn't that bad, was it?" Shizune eyed her dubiously but walked along, only pausing to offer a polite bow to the frowning psychologist who had stood to watch Aiko stalk out, oversized shirt billowing behind her. Her lips thinned.

'She wanted me to re-examine my feelings and share them. It was that bad.'

She kicked off her slippers and shoved her feet into the terminally ugly blue sandals that Yamato had helped her find without pausing, throwing open the door. It was probably for the best that she didn't see Shizune exchange an amused look with the receptionist behind her.

"Perhaps you'll like the shinobi psychologist better," Shizune offered with a hint of a laugh in her voice.

Aiko wilted at the reminder that she would be subjected to two different weekly appointments. There would be no escape, judging by the calm way her minder had shuffled her off to her first appointment.

'I underestimated Shizune. She's formidable. Why did I ever think that the Hokage was the probable threat?'

With that newfound resentment in mind, it was easier not to dissolve into a weeping pile of nerves while she waited outside the Hokage's office for her next appointment. When the door finally opened and she was shooed in, no one came out.

Apparently, the small crowd inside was going to lurk around while she had her interview. Lovely. Jiraiya-sama was there again, no big surprise. The other man present, on the other hand-

She nodded without making eye contact when Hatake raised a hand in greeting.

Fucking fantastic. There was no door to shut this time. She'd have to deal.

"Aiko, please make yourself comfortable." Under the Hokage's gaze, she didn't have the nerve to plop down on the same couch as last time. She backed against the side wall that Hatake wasn't at, wishing she could be anywhere else.

No one offered comment or let on to whatever thoughts they must have about her behaving like a trapped animal.

"I know you talked with Inoichi-san about your time with the Uchiha and Akatsuki." Godaime-Hottie tapped her pen against the desk in a slow staccato. "But I'd like to hear more, if you don't mind. The Akatsuki is largely disbanded, but if we don't act, Akatsuki will just be reformed with different nin."

"Obito is stubborn like that," Aiko agreed, using a sandal to scratch at the back of a calf. It took a moment to realize that everyone in the office was looking at her just a little too intensely. Hatake- no, Bakashi, 'Bakashi' made him seem much less threatening- seemed to desperately want to say something, but the Hokage got there first.

"You mean Madara," Tsunade corrected gently.

Aiko tried so, so hard not to roll her eyes because now was not the time for sass. "I think I know who I spent a year with, thanks. Madara is dead," she clipped out.

'Thank kami. If that's where Obito got his nutty plan, it's probably for the best that the old guy is gone.'

Bakashi shifted his weight. "He survived the fight with the Shodaime." His tone was carefully neutral. "To what end, we don't know, but he must have some plan."

"Right." At her easy acquiescence, the room seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief just a little early. "He survived his fight with the hokage, and then he died, like a decade or two ago," Aiko said sensibly. That was still very old, but still. "I never asked for the timeline because frankly I didn't care and still don't, but he's super dead."

Above her head, Bakashi and Jiraiya exchanged troubled looks that they obviously thought she didn't see. She twitched at the condescending snub, one hand curling into a fist. The other grazed her thigh. There still wasn't a weapon there. They still didn't trust her with one. They didn't even trust her situational assessment and ability to remember what she'd been told; why would they arm her?

'What is the point in talking to these people if they don't believe what I say?' The only thing that kept her from stomping her foot was the vaguely conscious notion that acting childishly wouldn't convince anyone that she knew what she was talking about.

"Aiko," Jiraiya said gently. Far too gently. He sounded like he was talking to a child.

'I'm going to go home and burn all your stupid autographed books. I take back ever thinking you were cool.'

Somehow it hurt more when she remembered that she couldn't even do that. Her books were with Obito. She couldn't go home.

Her former warrior-poet idol looked at her with soulful eyes and let out an exhalation that seemed to shrink his enormous chest. "I'm sorry, but Uchiha Madara used that name to deceive you. Uchiha Obito is long dead. He was a casualty of the third war, and a loyal Konoha shinobi. He wouldn't have done what this man has. Uchiha Madara is using his body as a vessel. For Konoha's sake, he needs to be found. If there's anything of Obito left in there, we owe him our best efforts to free his soul so he can rest in peace." Counter to what he must have intended, his tone only sharpened her temper.

'Sentimental drivel. You sound like my freaking shrink.'

She bit her tongue and took a steadying breath, too frustrated to come up with a logical rebuttal at the moment. "Look," Aiko tried with patience she did not feel. "I spent a lot of time with him. I know him."

"Which is why you ran away from him," Jiraiya rebutted, frustration slipping into the rumble of his voice. "He's a dangerous man. You know that, Aiko. You can't protect him."

"I'm not trying to!" She could feel heat rising in her cheeks to match Jiraiya's moue of stubborn frustration. "But he's not evil. He's- he's unbalanced," Aiko stressed. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "He means well." Even she knew that was a losing argument, and her voice trailed off to nothingness. No one in the office looked the slightest bit sympathetic. Hatake looked like he might be ill if she kept trying to argue that his genin teammate was an international terrorist. Tsunade seemed more concerned for her mental well-being. If she kept arguing, Aiko was going to find herself back in Inoichi's tender care.

'They're not going to believe me.'

The irony of that took a moment to sink in. 'They think that I'm saying this because I'm emotionally compromised. Even if I wasn't, they wouldn't want to believe me because it's much easier to believe Uchiha Madara would be a villain than Obito. That's the emotional blockade getting in the way of communication.'

Of course, he wasn't a villain. Not exactly. He was ill and he needed help or to be put down and he might end up killing her but- but-

To be fair, from their perspective, his actions looked pretty fucking villainous. And if some chump tried to tell her that the man who had kidnapped them wasn't that bad, Aiko would think that person had Stockholm's syndrome, not a good point worth consideration.

Just a little bit of doubt tugged at her mind. What if- what if she never had known anyone but Madara? When she looked at it all that way, it seemed like her perception was the one likely to be skewed.

Aiko wrapped her arms around her chest and looked down at her feet, shaken and unwilling to argue anymore. If she couldn't trust her judgment… Did she even know anything?

'No. That was Obito. I know it in my gut. He's a lot of things, but he's got a core that's really genuine. Someone hurt him and twisted him and he needs help, but he's not a villain. He wouldn't have come up with the idea of putting everyone in a genjutsu on his own. And he didn't falsify they way he felt about his genin team. There would be no reason to tell me anything like that if he was Madara.'

"Aiko?" An oversized hand closed gently on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I yelled, kiddo."

"It's fine," she said mechanically, shaking off Jiraiya-sama's comforting grip. "What do you want to know?" The step she took had her back pressed against the wall. Thankfully, the toad sannin did not follow.

"Inoichi gave us what you know about active members of Akatsuki and contacts." The Hokage gracefully called all attention to herself, glamorous and composed. She blinked perfectly curled lashes. "Thank you for that, Aiko-chan."

(Chan? She tried not be bitter that she'd apparently been down-graded to a child.)

Tsunade stood, fluffing her hair as she turned to the window. "How many safehouses are you aware of? Could you locate them on a map?"

Aiko would have nodded, if the woman was looking at her. Instead she let out a sullen, "Four, yes."

'Not that it matters. Obito won't stay at any of them now. He's not stupid.'

The older woman must have had the same thought. She clasped her hands behind her back and ducked her head slightly. Her voice was lower when it came again. "Do you have any idea about what Uchiha's next course of action will be?"

"He didn't tell me much about his plans." Aiko wiggled her toes, tired of standing. "I didn't ask. I didn't care much. He wants- wanted," she corrected. "He wanted to collect all the bijuu and put them in his ugly statue and then use them to power a world-wide genjutsu."

Jiraiya gave a surprised curse, nearly dropping the kunai he had been balancing on a finger.

Slowly, Tsunade turned around to stare. "A world-wide genjutsu." Her voice was flat.

"I thought the plan could use some work," Aiko acknowledged easily. "Though to be fair, it's a hand-me-down plan from Madara."

Bakashi tensed, fingers drumming against his thigh.

The Hokage ignored her pointed reminder, glossing over their disagreement entirely. "You said this was a plan in the past tense?"

Aiko grimaced. "I may have taken bad advice from that Fuu woman and broken his statue. That's part of why he was pissed with me. It made a mess." She made an expansive gesture, shaking her head. "Rocks and bijuu everywhere."

Something broke when Jiraiya slapped his palm against the wall, falling to the floor before Aiko could see what it was. "What."

She stilled, uncertain about the sudden tension. Cautiously, she inclined her head slightly and eyed the adults. Her hand itched for a weapon that she still didn't have.

Damn, Jiraiya was close. And big. And the other two people in the room were S class shinobi. She was suddenly hyperaware of that.

Sensing her confusion, Hatake raised his palms in a gesture of peace. "We didn't know that was how the bijuu got out."

Tension was replaced by befuddlement. "What, really?" Aiko blinked.

'Oh my kami, they must really not think of me as a threat. I was the only person there. It shouldn't be shocking that I was involved in that.'

"Of course not," Godaime-Hottie said dryly. "I am suddenly thankful that the Suna representatives left. That gives us time to think of a plausible lie."

Aiko snorted, giving the blonde woman a thin smile for the first time.

'Not really. The jinchuuriki from Mizu and Taki both know. They were there right before I did it. It'd be hard to keep both of them quiet, and it's probably too late already.'

"But not that much time," Tsunade-Hottie continued, caution bleeding into her tone. "We have a lot to do, Aiko." She raised an eyebrow as one hand skimmed over to rest on her hip. "Are you aware of the upcoming trial of the Amegakure leader?"

"Something about breaking an international treaty?" Aiko rubbed the back of her neck. "I wasn't that interested."

"Get interested," Tsunade said bluntly, pointing a pen at her. "You're our star witness."

.

.

.

"Say what?"

Preview of the next chapter, where the tone changes a bit. Because people have probably been wondering what the fuck happened to Naruto.

Chapter 18

"Hey, Aiko!"

She halted mid-step in the lower lobby at a very loud, slightly raspy voice. The boy who'd come bounding out of the crowd was grinning toothily, pulling a one-handled bag off his shoulders.

"Hold up a minute, would you?" He didn't wait for a response, plopping the bag down and unzipping it in one motion. "I'm supposed to- I have your stuff," he amended, talking hastily. He scrunched up his nose in unconscious irritation with the strands of blonde hair that were hanging down into his eyes.

"You have my things?" Aiko repeated cautiously, frowning.

'Why does he have my things?'

"Yeah, I think baa-chan forgot," he said absently, pulling out a very familiar bit of red leather.

"My holster?" Aiko reached out, somehow unsurprised when he placed it in her hand without looking. In the work of a few moments she had it strapped on- no one had fiddled with the straps, so it was already fitted correctly.

"Yeah, I think there's some kunai and senbon in here too." With a careless clatter, the boy tipped the bag and collected the weapons that fell out. Someone had bound them together and polished them- they'd need to be unwrapped.

'This is strange, but… okay? I think it's okay.'

"Thanks," she said. She took the first package and began unraveling it, packing the freed weapons away. "So, um, you know my name…"

He flushed. "I'm Naruto. Uzumaki Naruto."

It took a moment for that to sink in. When it did, her fingers fumbled. A flash of pain was the only thing that told her she'd managed to cut her index finger on a bare blade.

'Uzumaki. That's my last name. He looks roughly my age. Obito said that there was only one other Uzumaki child in Konoha when the last jinchuuriki died and- and-'

She clenched her hand into a fist, pressing the leaking finger into her palm to stop the bleeding.

Dear kami, that was a jinchuuriki right there, not two feet away from her. Her heart jolted unpleasantly. A jinchuuriki, meaning a person who had another one of those bijuu in him.

A familiar acidic tang prickled in her nose and the feeling of dry heat, of slowly baking alive washed over her flesh. Fear. Helpless. Insignificant.

On some level, her mind was whimpering helplessly.

Did it- no he, she'd decided jinchuuriki were people- did he know that she'd helped kill jinchuuriki before? Was he holding a grudge? Was he-

He was awfully familiar. Actually.

"I think I know you," Aiko said carefully, giving a smile that she did not feel. "From the orphanage, right?"

For a moment, his face was very still. Then it cracked into a painfully bright smile, accompanied by a thumbs-up. "Yupp! We lived together up until we were fifteen or so."

'That's a long time.'

"Oh." Her mouth was dry. "That's nice. You, um." She fumbled for words, torn between wanting to be very polite and wanting to escape.

'Someone wants me to like him and to associate him with safety. That's why he's the person who gave me back my equipment. That's not a coincidence. Why does Konoha care? What do they want?'

"Want to get lunch?" Naruto asked hopefully, shouldering his deflated bag. "I'm heading out on a mission later today and I didn't pack a lunch, 'ttebayo."

God no. Never.

"Yeah. That sounds nice." Aiko forced leaden feet to move, keeping pace with Naruto's strides toward the door.

'He's related to me somehow. Probably pretty closely, since we share a last name and there are few Uzumaki. Should I ask? Is he emotionally compromised? He seems friendly. I don't think he's registered me as a threat.'

The place he took her to was a dinky ramen bar that had quite possibly survived an invasion or two, judging by the dents and pointedly fresh paint. A pretty serving girl greeted both of them –by name, that was so freaky- and immediately set to work on their order. As she walked away, Aiko curled her toes against the bar under her stool and looked at the counter.

They weren't the only patrons—an older couple was sitting further down, the taller man feeding his protesting boyfriend tonkatsu with a laugh. The other patrons seemed to be too busy to take a full lunch hour- while they waited on their order, no less than three people came by to pick up 'to-go' orders.

"Hey." Naruto looked as uncomfortable as she felt, glancing down at her from the corner of his eye. "You alright?" He leaned slightly into her personal space to push her bowl down to her and- and-

That was a familiar scent. She eyed his vibrantly yellow hair, noticing a tiny braid peeking out from under his right ear. Other than that bit of order, it was a riotous mass. It was rather like how hers might be, if it wasn't long enough for truly exciting tangles to form.

"What shampoo do you use?"

Naruto blinked, face blank. "Uh. Cloves and something else. I just use what Karin buys me."

Aiko hmmed, breaking her chopsticks apart and fiddling with them. "Gotcha. So, um. A walrus?"

That appeared to utterly confound him. A noodle slipped out the side of his mouth.

Oddly, that helped. It was hard to feel intimidated by someone with food coming out of their mouth. He tilted his head and licked futilely at the soup escaping down his chin, blue eyes straining and failing to see the mess. "Your sleeping hat," she explained. "Someone gave it to me." Aiko shrugged. "I recognize your scent. I'm guessing that wasn't you?"

Naruto snorted and clapped a hand to his face to prevent any more liquid from escaping. He took a moment to laboriously swallow his enormous mouthful of food. "Socially challenged bastard," he mumbled, sounding fond. "No, um." His voice raised. "That wasn't me. It was meant to be helpful, I'm sure."

She didn't have anything to say, so she stuffed the boiled egg that had come with her meal into her mouth. Her eyes watered almost instantly. Hot. Her bowl was too hot. As soon as she had swallowed, Aiko grabbed for her water.

"How are you doing?" Naruto burst out in a rush of air. He glanced at her under his bangs and then jerked his gaze back to the countertop.

"Um." Aiko set down her chopsticks and interlocked her fingers on her lap. "I'm fine." In a moment of uncharacteristic honesty, she stared into the depths of her ramen bowl and admitted, "This just feels surreal. You know? Like this last week is a weird dream and I'm about to wake up."

Naruto nodded slowly, licking off his chopsticks. "But not a bad dream, right?"

She hesitated. "It's not a good dream, but it's not exactly puppets and zombies either."

"Well… I'm glad to hear that, I guess." He flashed a smile at her, holding a hand up to signal for another bowl. The waitress must have been expecting that because she quickly fluttered over to switch out bowls. "It'll get better. You're staying with Shizune-chan, ne?"

"Mm," Aiko nodded. "Yepp. She's alright. Kinda strict, though." Her intuition had been right the first day, when she had thought that Shizune would be difficult to budge on the whole 'mental health care' thing. There was just no arguing with that woman.

Naruto gave a surprised laugh, interrupted in the middle of blowing on his ramen to cool it. "If she wasn't, we wouldn't get anything done," he shared mischievously. "Baa-chan is crazy smart and cool and stuff, but she lacks in organizational thought. Shizune-chan makes sure the day to day stuff gets done."

'…Wait. Is 'Baa-chan' the Hokage?'

Her lips twitched. Maybe she could see them being related. That nickname was flippantly inappropriate enough that she sort of wished she'd come up with it. The analysis of the power in Konoha, on the other hand, she stored away for later consideration. Naruto might have a pretty good gauge of his Hokage's character.

The boy in question gave an obscene slurp, polishing off his second bowl. Aiko glanced down at her ramen. It was still nearly full. Feeling mildly guilty for her slowness, she diligently picked through the mushrooms and pork belly, ignoring the greens.

"I need to go soon." Naruto frowned up at the position of the sun, waiting for his third bowl. "Can I get the check with this one?" The waitress gave him an indulgent smile and whirled away, smelling like flour and fresh dough.

Aiko didn't even pretend to look for her wallet. He was paying. She didn't have any money.

"I should be back in a week." Naruto gave her a nervous glance through his lashes, fiddling with a worn coin purse. "Want to do this again?"

The moment struck her as very awkward, in a sinking way.

'Wait. Was this a date?' She opened her mouth to ask, and then nodded silently instead. She didn't want to make an ass out of herself by misinterpreting the situation.

He grinned, counting out a hefty tip and exchanging cheek kisses over the counter with the ramen girl. A girlfriend, maybe? "Great!" Naruto chirped, waggling his fingers at the pretty brunette. She was already drifting away to take another order. "Have fun, yeah? Oh man, I'm gonna be late." He slipped off his stool and moved to push open the fabric veiling the stand from the street, tossing her one last blinding grin. "See ya!"

[puc-puggy]

@soaplantro i've been vascillating between just deleting all of your replies or attempting to have a good faith discussion. good faith discussion is possible if you stop attempting to bait me. so we'll see.

before we start, let's explore the idea that trans men and trans women actually do not have conflict with each other and that intracommunity conflicts between trans people are generated by external hostility. just play with me in the space where there is no oppressed group out to get or trying to hurt other oppressed groups, there are only oppressed people trying to survive a system hostile to their existence. sometimes that overwhelming hostility puts different vulnerable groups at odds with each other. this is not the oppressed group's fault.

this is what I mean by the environment pitting trans people against each other. trans women are not safe with people who believe they are predators and trans men are not safe with people who believe they are predators. because no one is safe with someone who believes them to be a predator, and trans people are incredibly vulnerable. why is it acceptable to put trans men in danger by assuming they're predators but not trans women? you say there that trans women are no strangers to being labeled predatory and seem to use this to dismiss the life-threatening danger a queer person is in when they are labeled a threat or predator rather than empathize with it and recognize the same dangers.

to be clear, I am not talking about terfs, i am talking about trans inclusive separatists still attempting to delineate a binary between Dangerous and Not Dangerous. separatism is, in essence, the idea that men are the enemy. terfs telling trans men that they're just women confused by misogyny are misgendering the men in question and cannot be argued to be allies. I am discussing the impact of "trans inclusive separatist feminists" (oxymoron) attempting to fit trans people into the separatist binary, which asserts that men are the enemy. when there is an enemy, who exactly is and isn't an enemy must be clearly labeled. the enemy these feminists are searching for are binary cis men and anyone polluted by binary cis manhood enough to be 'as dangerous as a man.' these are the feminists who pit trans people against each other by investigating trans people's genders and attempting to force them to fit in a cissexual binary.

there are multiple groups of these feminists, and which set of forcibly binarized trans people are labeled a predator is dependent on idiosyncratic belief systems, typically based on arguments of socialization. again, because while terfs manufactured this environment, the separatist rhetoric has bled outward. separatist feminists are attempting to maintain separatism with trans inclusion, which is an oxymoron. trans inclusion requires inclusion beyond the binary, which separatism is incapable of. yes to socialization means trans men good trans women bad because socialized as woman/socialized as man. if they say no, socialization is more complicated than that, it leads to trans men identify with oppressor therefore predator. this leads to trans women and trans men occupying separate communities, because neither is safe with groups that believe them to be predators.

this is not the fault of trans people. no trans person is doing this. no trans person is trying to undermine or harm the wellbeing of other trans people. the environment is hostile and demands different behaviors from trans people to maintain their safety. in a reply that I deleted (sorry but it wasn't good faith), you asked me about the lack of parity between trans men and trans women in my discussion. you seemed to believe that it was an uneven discussion, where you perceived trans men's rhetorical arguments as offensive and trans womens rhetorical arguments as defensive. so let's go back to the basic principle. you are not safe in a group that will label you a predator. no one is. are trans men safe when they're making arguments in favor of "female socialization"? or are they trying to avoid the danger of being labeled a predator, just like you. are trans men really out to get trans women or are both groups being attacked by outside forces, desperately trying to avoid being labeled a predator? why is it okay to label one group of oppressed people predators but not another?

no matter which way you slice it, investigating trans people to determine how close they are to the "bad" end of the binary is going to result in transphobic harassment. because the idea that men are the enemy is going to harm anyone who crosses gender boundaries and has spent time in "enemy territory."

as a final thought, transmisogyny is as useful as misogyny to explore trans womens' experiences. that is not however what we're seeing. because oh fuck. the separatism hit and reconstructed the gender binary. we're no longer talking about transmisogyny, description of the discrimination and intersections of oppression that trans women face. we're sorting everyone into tme(enemy)/tma(ally) and calling trans men misogynists for liberatory feminist conversation. that is the negative impact of separatism. that is a non-separatist theory shoved into a separatist discursive environment, and because separatism cannot support inclusion beyond the binary, we built two new boxes to sort people into again. there's still only two and they don't look any different from the old ones.

the transandrophobia discourse is poisoned by separatist feminist theory that terfs and radfems have been maliciously injecting into feminist conversations, so here's The Will To Change excerpts by bell hooks again.

libratory feminism sees no difference between men and women except those manufactured by patriarchy. misogyny is a symptom of patriarchy the system, not a structure by which to interpret patriarchy the system. replacing "sexism" with "misogyny" does not change the nature of the analysis, which is a weak one. patriarchy the system can induce the symptom of misogyny in any person subjected to that system. using sexism/misogyny/male chauvinism is not a useful lens of analysis when looking at patriarchy because women are misogynists too. let's not move backward on that. women are misogynists too and men are allies.

the recent "trans men are misogynists" allegations I've seen lodged against trans men are:

unprepared to be treated like a predator, may cry about it

asked that only trans men attend a trans mens' support group

discussed male loneliness instead of talking about violence against women

all of these are actually feminist discussions. so the backlash seems like angry feminist reactions to Men Having Feelings, which is not a new thing. in fact, hooks addresses it directly.

i see men being mocked for having their feelings hurt, men being mocked for wanting to discuss their feelings, and men being mocked because they're thinking about men and manhood in new and complex ways. exactly what the doctor ordered.

i am not seeing challenges to patriarchy here. I am seeing reinforcement of patriarchal expectations of masculinity on trans men who do not want to perform those expectations. i am seeing separatist radfem bullshit in the assumption that trans men have lost or never had a valuable perspective on misogyny or gender or sexism and cannot tell when the shape of discrimination they're facing has changed. i am seeing toxic separatist radfem bullshit shut down liberatory feminist discussion because one of the speakers is trans in the wrong direction.

[xitadori]

"this is a bad idea. . ."

"c'mon, won't you live a little?"

summary: your night takes a turn when you run into a familiar face at your school reunion...

tags: gender neutral, exes to lovers, alcohol consumption, nsfw themes, making out in a bathroom, getting caught

wc: 1.1k

18+ only, minors do not interact

Comparison is a slippery slope.

It was something you found yourself lost in as you nursed your third mixed drink, cradled in your hand and tucked into your chest like a security blanket. Plenty of familiar faces stood out to you that night; some seemed utterly sapped by adult responsibility and stress, barely recognizable from your shared youth; and others... well, some others left you tumbling down that slope, knocking the wind out of you as you went.

The music wasn't particularly loud, but you still couldn't hear him as he spoke through a grin several feet away. Your eyes and ears trained to his presence automatically. Some strange adrenaline started to leak into your veins as you observed, perched pretty in a lonely corner of the dimly lit room. It seems Satoru, years later, was still as animated as ever. He spoke excitedly to another man in a blazer, smiling to expose the pearly whites that rivaled the intensity of his gaze.

Once upon a time, that wolfish grin had been used on you.

After exchanging your last ticket, you leaned against the bar, peering into the glass. What a social bust the night had been -- but at least there was some free booze out of the deal. A little cynical scoff jumped from your lips. "How lame..." you sighed.

"I know you're not talking about me."

Smooth as the day was long. That voice alone was enough to rattle your insides, much to your dismay. Saddled up to your side a few feet away stood the man of the hour, his silvery hair looking much too angelic under the bar light.

A wrinkle found its way into your brow. "Satoru," his name glided off your tongue, "fancy running into you here."

You weren't sure how to read the tightening in your chest. Maybe you could've chalked it up to the buzz busy warming you from the inside out.

He let his eyes run over you, unapologetic and casual. Satoru cradled his jaw in his palm. The way your name slipped out from between his lips was almost criminal. "No arm candy tonight?" he hummed, mostly to himself, "I'll say I'm surprised, but not disappointed."

Sipping from your straw, you watched him watch you. He'd been drinking. There was no glass in his hand, no overwhelming stench of liquor, but that slight rasp clung to his words -- it was unmistakable, shaking up old memories and strange feelings all at once. You swallowed thickly and licked your lips, dodging the question you assumed to be rhetorical. "And the same for you," for just a split second, you caught your gaze darting to his left hand, perched against his chiseled face. No ring. "At least we're not the only ones."

The motion didn't go unnoticed. Satoru was always sharper than he let on, something you both admired and hated all at once. Truthfully, there was a lot of juxtaposition when it came to your feelings about Satoru. His immaturity annoyed you. His compassion charmed you. The man was a mixed bag in his youth, the highs and lows of your relationship feeling almost addicting at the time.

Hell, maybe even still.

You realized, once his leg brushed against yours, he had ghosted closer while you were caught in thought. "No, but I'm pretty sure you're the only one looking too good to be all alone right now."

He smelled like expensive cologne, new and fresh, the aroma tickling your nose and reminding you exactly what you were doing with stark alarm. Cool porcelain nipped at the back of your thighs through your clothes. A small yipe jumped from your lips as a metal faucet dug into your lower back.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Satoru mumbled against your cheek, his breath hot and whiskey-tinted. "Lean into me, hm? I won't let you fall." Even without seeing his face, you could hear his grin, hear the ego dripping from his words. His slender fingers dug into your hips. Satoru pressed endless open-mouthed kisses across your cheekbone, down your jaw, to the sensitive skin of your neck. The proximity sent electric currents through your entire body. You gasped involuntarily once he tugged you closer. He was slotted perfectly between your legs, your bodies now flush.

"This is a bad idea..." you mumbled, though it seemed your hands weren't on the same page, too busy carding through his unfairly silky hair. You held him against you, so incredibly eager for his touch, so embarrassingly excited that your heartbeat rivaled the music outside.

Hooking up with your ex? Debatable behavior. Hooking up with your ex in a bar bathroom with several of your old classmates right there? Deplorable behavior.

Satoru, carefree as ever, simply nipped your collarbone to disagree.

"C'mon, won't you live a little?"

He pressed against your lips again, tongue swirling into your mouth with ease. Satoru savored all the little gasps, every hushed moan he could swallow while his fingers played up your thigh, massaging devious shapes in their wake across your lap.

Despite the ego, despite the charisma, you could sense Satoru losing himself to the moment, his kisses growing sloppier and his touches more frantic. A low groan seeped into your mouth as he pressed himself against you. "S-Satoru," your voice lacked the backbone you intended, so breathlessly, you tried again, "Satoru."

One hand firm against your lower back, the other dangerously close to your aching center, the man hummed against your lips.

A small part of you knew you shouldn't be doing whatever it was you were doing. However, that part quickly withered away before it could gain any real footing -- Satoru began to suck on your tongue, slow and surprisingly sensual for having you propped up on a bar bathroom sink. His hardon twitched once a rather desperate moan greeted his ears. The corners of his mouth curled upwards wolfishly. "That's what I like to hear. Gimme more --"

If only to prove you right, the bathroom door popped open behind Satoru, forcing your blood to pump in a different sort of adrenaline rush. "Wh-- What the hell?" The stranger bumbled out, strangely caught between slamming the door shut again and, perhaps drunkenly, taking the sight in.

You dunked your head down in embarrassment, hoping more than anything to hide behind Satoru's broad shoulder. How mortifying. What were you, a college freshman?

"The show isn't free, y'know." Much to your surprise, Satoru spoke back with a firm voice, but never stopped inching his way over your thighs. "Can't you see we're a little busy, hm?"

Old memories are a slippery slope.

It was something you found yourself lost in later that evening, your face buried in an unfamiliar pillow, smelling so much like someone you never thought you'd see again.

[ztarvokwrites]

Doflamingo and Helmeppo with a S/O who overworks too much

so, got bored, had a sudden burst of "hey this is a good concept for some of my fave characters" and "i really need to post more", made this. enjoy!

READER: GN

WARNINGS: None

INCLUDES: Donquixote Doflamingo and Helmeppo

GENRE: Scenario, fluff

SUMMARY: S/O is overworking themselves hard and the boys are worried :(

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:* °☆.。.:*・

Donquixote Doflamingo

It didn't bother him that you worked. It bothered him that you worked too much. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed together in concentration and frustration, your eyes scanning over your share of paperwork. Doffy knew it was a bad idea to let you help him in his Warlord and King related duties, yet he couldn't say no to your persistence. A small yawn left your mouth as you continued to go through the sheets of white and he could clearly see that you were exhausted beyond belief. The dark circles under your eyes was telling. With a sigh, he knocked gently on the doorway he stood under, finally grabbing your attention.

"Oh! Doffy! I didn't see you there." You tiredly spoke, rubbing your eyes with another yawn. A frown painted his features, you noticed, as he started to walk towards you. "Do you have any idea what the time is, Feather?" He asked, the question sounding rhetorical. You softly shook your head and he pointed to the clock on the wall. A soft gasp left your throat as you read the time.

2:53 AM.

Just how long have you been sitting there?

"You've been sitting there for almost 6 hours working on those papers without taking a proper break. You must be tired." He softly spoke, sitting down next to you on the plush couch that sat in your shared bedroom and gently rubbing your arm with the knuckles of his fingers. You stiffened, glancing between the papers on the coffee table and his hand. You wanted to- no, needed to finish these papers. "I'll be done in a minute-" You got startled by a hand aggressively slamming down on the papers, making the entire table shudder. "Look at me." Demanded your lover, using his other hand to sternly grab your chin and face him with slight fear in your eyes.

"You've worked hard enough. I can see how tired you are," He spoke, his tone harsh as a vein on his forehead got slightly more prominent before vanishing, his annoyed expression softening as well as the grip on your chin. "Feather," He continued, his voice suddenly soft and full of concern. You wouldn't say it was rare for him to be concerned about you, but it wasn't that often he would, considering he knows you can handle yourself. "You need to rest. I'll finish the papers for you tomorrow so you can have a day to pamper yourself."

As you were about to protest, another yawn escaped your throat, effectively shutting you up. You sighed. "Alright. I'm sorry, Doffy." You couldn't help but apologise. You did stay up longer than you intended to, even if you didn't realise it; that and you felt like you pissed him off somehow. Doffy sighed, taking his hand and cupping your cheek gently, his thumb stroking your soft skin. "Don't be. I'm not mad at you, I could never be mad at you. Come," He began, suddenly scooping you up into his arms and placing you gently on the bed. "Let's sleep. I don't want my Feather to be ruffled tomorrow." The bad feather pun made the both of you chuckle. A warm, comfy blanket was placed on top of you and you felt Doffy get in beside you, putting his fluffy pink feathered coat over the both of you.

The door closed - you assumed he used his DF ability to close the door - and your lover pulled you closer to his chest, arms enveloped around you securely. He kissed the top of your head as his warmth drifted you to sleep. "Rest well, Feather."

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:* °☆.。.:*・

Helmeppo

He couldn't blame you, really. Being a Marine was hard; You, himself and Coby knew that first hand! But seeing you on your day off training for more than the appropriate amount broke him. The blonde hummed, lips in a slight frown and eyebrows upwards in concern as he watched. His concern grew earlier when you didn't greet him as usual when he came back from his shift and it only grew more when he found you in this state.

"[Y/N]," Helmeppo began, walking towards you. "You've been out here since I left this morning. Why don't you take a break?" You glanced at him and shook your head. "I can't. I'm fine." You stated, doing chin ups on the bar. Your boyfriend, worried out of his mind, leant against the pull up bar and looked at you. You glanced at him again. "Seriously, Meppo, I'm fine." You say as you jump down from the bar, rubbing your hands together and wincing slightly at the pain in your arms.

Helmeppo sighed, gently placing his hands on your shoulders. "Love, you're exhausted. You need to take a break before something bad happens to you." He simply stated, one of his hands cupping your cheek. You huffed, crossing your arms. Your boyfriend gave you a serious look, making you freeze. "Sweetheart. Please?" He pleaded, the nickname making your cheeks grow warm.

You sighed. "Fine. I guess I'm a little bit tired. But only if you're making dinner!" You declared, pointing at him. He smiled, chuckling before kissing you softly on the lips. "I'm already making it." This made you beam, a small cheer omitting from your throat. Helmeppo softly laughed, gently grabbing your hand in his before leading you inside.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:* °☆.。.:*・

[splickedylit]

#fbskjf sorry but rb again bc im obsessed with the brushwork. op what brushes do you use i beg of you

@some-nerd1302 Sorry for missing this question (assuming it wasn't rhetorical)! For these I mostly used my homemade scratchy inkpen for sai 2, my favorite sketching brush! I'll put the settings under the cut, in case any other sai users would like to imitate it.

EDIT: the base brush is a pencil, btw!

Definitely unfortunate that anime-only Dungeon Meshi watchers will probably not have a chance to see the graph of the whole party swapped to different races partially because human Chilchuck's instant five o'clock stubble is hilarious but also because

halfling Senshi

[ventiskies]

When he rejects you | Chongyun, Scaramouche, Albedo

a/n: hello friends!! i apologize for my somewhat disappearance TwT im currently having exam season but i couldnt help but write something for my favorite three (and yes, scara is there... and honestly, I don't know when I started simping for him either but you can now call me a future scaramouche haver >:)) so not a request, but do enjoy !! <3 (apologies if there are any errors!!)

pairing: chongyun x gn! reader, scaramouche x gn! reader, albedo x gn! reader (platonic)

Chongyun

★ Chongyun, Xingqiu and you had been best friends since you were kids. And although you were a trio, you and Chongyun had always known each other much longer.

★ If your life were a book, it would be a sweet childhood best friends growing up together genre, something that often piqued Xingqiu’s interests when he drags the two of you to Wanwen bookhouse

★ The books you had borrowed from Xingqiu about them all ended with the same thing; that they end up becoming a couple and growing up together. Reminiscing about their childhood youth when they were old.

★ You knew not to trust the books or use them as a guide, but just like the books, you had grown to fall in love with the icy-haired boy.

★ Chongyun was like a breath of fresh air. His determination in exorcising ‘evil spirits' to the point that he blindly falls for Xingqiu and your pranks were the things that you loved about him. He was filled with enthusiasm and positivity (literally).

★ You grew into enjoying his positive attitude, you couldn't imagine a day going by without Chongyun telling you and Xingqiu about a so called 'haunted' place he had found, and forcing the two of you to come with him. and even if it had ended without meeting a single spirit, he would still be in high spirits.

★ you loved it, seeing the rush of thrill he feels whenever he senses a spirit nearby, hoping the spirit was able to withstand his excessive yang energy. the repeating days without one successful exorcism, only to end up getting treated to a meal by Xingqiu, and the parting that always ends with a promise to see each other the day after. Chongyun speaks his emotions, and you were in love with that.

★ and him, just in general.

★ And one day, you had decided to tell him just that

★ You were both on the hunt for Jueyun chilies for Xiangling, a small commission that you had decided to take on while waiting for Xingqiu to finish his work at the guild. The sun had set, and you had returned from Qingce village with a bucket full of the chilies and had decided to rest on top of the mountain where you had both Waypointed to just to admire the sunset.

★ In the heat of the moment, you had spoken.

“I like you, Chongyun,” you had said, looking at him with a smile.

★ You would have accepted a silence. You had expected it to be like the books; he would gently laugh and look at you, admitting that he had been waiting for you to say the exact words, lean in to kiss you. It would be awkward at first, but it’ll also be something to look back to in the future when kissing becomes something you do every day. You’d return back to Liyue Harbor hand in hand, and be able to tell Xingqiu and Xiangling that he was your boyfriend now, and admit to the former that maybe his books were right.

★ But instead, you were met with Chongyun’s wide eyes staring at you. His cheeks flushed red with what you had tried hard to hope was shyness, but had appealed more like panic. He had stood up and cleared his throat

“We- we should get back,” he says, too quickly for someone as calm as he is. And you knew it was a wrong step, “I’m-,” he clears his throat, “I’m going to go ahead first. I'm sorry,”

★ You didn’t know if he was apologizing for leaving early, or for not being able to accept your feelings, but when you hadn't seen him the following day, you could only assume.

Scaramouche

★ Honestly, you had it coming for you.

★ Scaramouche is someone whose life is their job. There was nothing that could distract him from working for the Tsaritsa

★ You had (been self-entitled) as his best friend. And honestly, if Scaramouche knew of it, he doesn't blame you. Everyone in the Fatui and who worked under the Fatui knew how close you were. Which was odd because, for one, you were absolutely nothing like him. Although you weren't exactly liked by everyone, you weren't loathed by everyone like the sixth harbinger was.

★ Scaramouche was feared by anyone who hears his name or walks a foot away from him, while you carried a calmer aura. Without glancing, Scaramouche could bring his subordinates trembling, while they would greet you when you pass by them.

★ You were polar opposites, and yet, everyone has seen the two of you together so much that when he wasn't with you or the other way around, people would assume you were on a solo mission or just leaving the other’s quarters

★ Of course, being his best friend, you weren’t spared of his usual harsh words. As a matter of fact, you probably had it much worse than anyone else. It had almost seemed as if every time he spoke, he spoke like he was trying to get rid of you.

★ But if that really were the case, then he hasn’t been trying his best. You had stayed with him since you had become an ally to the Fatui, and ever since then had stayed by his side. When others shake in fear, you shake your head with a laugh and a retort.

★ It had even come as a surprise to you when you had realized you had fallen for the harbinger. You would think that spending time with such a foul-mouthed person who would murder someone in the blink of an eye with no hesitation would make you dislike him. But that didn’t happen.

★ In fact, it was quite the opposite. You had fallen in love with him.

★ It wasn’t obvious to anyone, and even you had to take the time to squint to look for it. But Scaramouche did care for you in his own way. Whether it be toning down the harsh words when he sees your mood dampen after a mission, or beating the shit out of a person who had attacked you ruthlessly, not stopping even after his hands were covered in crimson liquid and the person almost certainly died. Even if he calls you a hindrance afterward for dirtying his hands, he definitely thought of you the same as you thought of him.

★ A friend.

★ Or, you had hoped, something more.

★ It was a mistake to take his slight kindness as a sign of him liking you, it truly was.

★ During your journey to Inazuma for a mission, you had decided to confess to him out of the blue. You knew he was someone who could predict the outcome of something even before you said anything, so a slow confession when the sun was setting in a field of flowers would just be a waste of time. if there was something you learned, it's to cut to the chase with him.

“Hey Scara,” you had said quietly. He had replied with a low hum, not turning back to look at you, “I like you.”

★ Without a second thought, Scaramouche had taken you by surprise as well.

★ He had not stopped in his tracks, instead, his shoulders shook in laugher. His laugh wasn't the same laugh you hear whenever you make a stupid mishap or get slightly injured during a simple mission- no, those laughs were warmer. Although laced with unkindness, they were more familiar.

★ This one was condescending. As if you were a new recruit again, having to work under him. As if all those years as friends had just gone down the drain.

“Stupid. What a fool of me to assume you were different.” he says, voice clear as a bell in the night, “don’t be an inconvenience. I don't have time for people like you.”

Albedo

★ Ever since working under Albedo with Sucrose, your life had been nothing but full of wonder. Although some were dangerous, Albedo and you bonded easily as if you had worked together in a past life.

★ Albedo was a genius. He was someone you looked up to, and sometime during your investigations, he had become a friend. You didn't know when it started. When it had gone from two alchemists staying the night in Dragonspine to observe the different stages of new plant growth, to- with the permission of the acting grandmaster - just two people, two friends, going out to explore the seven nations.

★ Sucrose and Timaeus had stayed back in Mondstadt to finish experiments that you both had decided to put on hold for your trip, and with nothing to worry about, the two of you had gone out with nothing but the protection of each other (and your visions, of course), and a few packed meals from Good Hunter.

★ Albedo had a side that no one saw unless they spent nights camping with him in the middle of nowhere. You were one of the lucky people who were able to see that side of his during your trips around the seven.

★ The alchemist wasn't just curious about the way the world works, he had also been curious with, well, you.

★ Some nights when he couldn't go to sleep (which was often. You’d be surprised to see how messed up his sleep schedule was), he would sit in front of the fire you had both worked hard to make, and simply talk.

★ sometimes, it would be short conversations. but more than often, you find yourself talking about everything and nothing until the sun rose above the mountains, and you would have to continue your journey until one of you (usually being you,) were too tired to continue.

★ Albedo talks with passion, no matter what the topic is. He could be talking about what you were going to be having for dinner for the next night before you reach the first region in your trip, and he would already have you captivated.

★ Albedo also talks with gentleness. And this was the said side not a lot of people would be able to see from the chief alchemist. Whenever the tent was filled with comforting silence, you would be able to hear Albedo asking you questions about yourself. They weren’t your standard, what was your dream growing up? Kind of questions, but they were more specific. More… personal.

★ Is it not funny, how life works? What if a single moment had changed in the past, I and you wouldn't have met. He would question, eyes trained to the flames burning in front of him. It sounded rhetorical, but his tone was laced with wonder. He sounds as if he was expecting an answer, but he doesn't urge you for one. And every time he does, you merely hum.

★ Albedo was gentle in everything he did. Almost all the time you were with him, he had never acted brashly. He was patient, kind.

★ and that was most likely what had prompted your crush on the alchemist

★ crushing on Albedo was like looking up at the stars. he was someone who shined brightly, but you knew he was too far to reach, yet despite that, you had still attempted to.

★ you had decided to finally let it all out on him the night of your final stay before you reached your final region, which was Inazuma.

★ and that, you had realized a little too late, had been the icing on top of a really terrible cake.

"Albedo," you had stared, and the alchemist immediately turned towards you. that was something you had grown fond of. you knew Albedo was a man married to his work, so when he turns to you in the midst of it, you felt your stomach churn in delight, "I have to tell you something,"

“Hm?” he hums, setting his notepad down to give you his full attention, “what is it, y/n?”

★ You took a deep breath, and the moment you had opened your mouth to tell him, you had a sinking feeling you had made a huge mistake.

“I like you, a lot,” you muttered, “not just platonically, Albedo. I… I think you're really interesting. and if you'd like, I would love to be with you. ”

★ Albedo’s face had fallen, and although it had been the slightest, you had still noticed it. He looked at you as if the cogs were turning in his brain, and finally, he looks down

“I must apologize,” he starts, and you feel your stomach drop, “but I’m not interested in you that way, y/n. If it makes you feel better, I see you as a very dear friend,”

★ You nod, apologizing to Albedo before he offers a small smile before continuing his research

★ You both did not speak of it, but there was a very thick air of silence hangs over the two of you afterward, that didn't dissipate even after you both left the camp.