#An incomplete list of things I thought were obvious I will be adding to this as the mood strikes

[backpackingspace]

an incomplete list of things I thought were pretty obvious bc I'm feeling petty

The jedi being about processing your emotions and grief and being able to work through the feelings in a healthy way

Odysseus being a rape victim

[greatwyrmgold]

On prior posts where I criticized/complained about Vamola (Dandadan) saying she wanted to marry Okarun, people said I didn't get it, that things would be explained later. "The translation is incomplete and a lot of context is missing from it." "You have to look beyond the surface, to understand Tatsu’s vision." That kind of stuff.

Well, I finished the Space Globalists arc, then the rest of Dandadan, and apparently I should have made this post after the Space Globalists arc, because they were talking about the really basic stuff in that arc.

I'll start with the people who implied there was some deeper reason for Vamola wanting to marry a strong guy. Chapter 105:

For the record, if you had asked me to guess why Vamola wanted to marry a strong guy when I read chapter 72, I would have said "eugenics" in a half-sarcastic way that refers to pretty much this exact scenario, except for it being something she wanted and not something her de facto mom told her to do.

Wanting to marry a strong guy to have strong kids is the obvious hack answer for why the super-strong lady wants to get beaten up and then marry the guy who beat her up. It's not interesting unless you find a new angle to dig at it from. It's especially not interesting if it's just something the lady was told to want.

Next, the people who said Vamola didn't just go for Okarun because she attributed the Great Kinta's victory to Okarun. Chapter 106 explains why.

So Vamola didn't decide to marry the person who beat her in a fight. Her suit says Okarun's power level is over 8,000 and decides that he must be the strong guy she should marry.

On one hand, marrying a guy you just met makes more sense than marrying a guy who spent several minutes beating you senseless. And it didn't make sense to attribute Great Kinta's victory to one of the guys who fell out before the fighting got serious.

On the other hand, this doesn't mate Vamola's interest in Okarun interesting. I was expecting something like "Vamola saw Okarun do something nice" or "Vamola saw Okarun being isolated and felt kinship," not "Vamola saw Okarun and his high power level".

That's the issue I had with Vamola's romantic declaration overall. Some people seemed to misunderstand that, arguing as though I thought it was illogical or a plot hole orunderexplained, or as though I just didn't like moving the Momo/Okarun romance plot forward.

That's just not true, especially not that last one. A big part of why I find Vamola's interest in Okarun uninteresting is that it's not moving the romance plot forward. Vamola saying she wants to marry Okarun doesn't really push Momo or Okarun towards their big confession, or add new character dynamics to the pot, or do anything that Aira trying to confess to Okarun didn't.

We saw how Okarun reacts to a girl expressing direct romantic interest in him via an unwanted kiss, and we saw how Momo reacts to a girl expressing interest in Okarun. The big difference is that Aira's an abrasive headstrong wannabe-protagonist who accused Momo of being a demon, while Vamola is a nice alien who doesn't speak Japanese but does want to be friends with people. Also Aira kept trying to convince Okarun to go out with her for a while, while I'm not sure Vamola mentioned marrying Okarun after chapter 72. Maybe Yukinobu Tatsu realized they were repeating plot points...

And not only had I seen this before in Dandadan, I've seen it before, over and over. Adding a third wheel to an unofficial yet obviously official couple is, like, Baby's First Romantic Subplot Complication. It shows up in series where the romance is a contractually-mandated detail shoved into one corner and where the romance is the whole point of the story. It shows up in web serials published by timid first-time authors and Broadway musicals produced by household names. It shows up in romances good and terrible. It is unavoidable.

Part of why I tend to dislike romance subplots and romance narratives is the laundry list of unavoidable clichés. Stuff I've come across in the past, that I continue to come across because it keeps being thrown into stories I otherwise like. That's why I dislike it. So unless you think a good romance story is definitionally comprised of cliché, do not hop into the notes to insist that I just don't understand Dandadan is a rom-com.

Anyways, that's why I made the second post. I like Vamola, I want to like what she adds to the ensemble, but the very first thing she added was a romance-subplot cliché that couldn't do anything that Aira's didn't do and also kinda slid out of relevance.

If Vamola has to introduce romantic complications, they should be something novel. And the polyamory punchline I dropped into that second Vamola post (Vamola declaring that she'll marry the whole Great Kinta team) would be very novel! It wouldn't just be unexpected, it would open up a bunch of unique possibilities. For instance:

A low-key but continuous point would be members of the Great Kinta team trying to figure out what Vamola thinks it means for all of them to be her husband, what sorts of expectations she has of them. Vamola thinks this is all very straightforward and is amused by how clueless her husband is about this.

Vamola gets very distressed about any conflict between members of her husband-team, regardless of context. She's not familiar with Japanese (or Earth) culture and also didn't know anyone her own age on Planet Sumer, so she can't tell the difference between a potentially friendship-ending argument and Jiji acting like Momo's kid brother.

Vamola gets suspicious about a new character trying to join the friend group. They're not part of her husband, after all! What if they disrupt whatever makes them work together so well? Or what if one of them cheat on her?

Kinta Sakata is the only part of the Great Kinta team who's 100% on board with the marriage. He actively schemes to male Japan/Earth's wedding traditions fit the lopsided polymarriage, to the consternation of his alleged friends.

I kinda want to write fanfiction about Vamola's polyamory proposal. Pluralhusbandry proposal?

[hepalien]

Ao3 Tips and Tricks

So I thought I would make a post about some cool stuff you can do with Ao3 and userscripts, and some tips I’ve learned from setting them up for myself! I promise it's not hard, though this is a lot of info. I'm happy to help if I can.

What You’ll Need:

First, you will need the Tampermonkey extension for your browser (depending on what browser you use, Greasemonkey is the equivalent). On Android, you can even run Chrome extensions on mobile with Kiwi Browser! It is easiest to configure the scripts on your desktop and then sync to mobile with Tampermonkey’s cloud sync feature or by exporting the configured scripts and importing in your mobile browser (I will explain how to do this later in the post). If you use any of the tweaks I outline below, be sure to backup your scripts in case your settings are lost.

Once you have Tampermonkey installed, you can get scripts from GreasyFork. The inimitable @flamebyrd also has some great scripts and bookmarklets and has been incredibly helpful while I figured all this out.

Find a script that looks interesting, click on it, and then click “install this script.” Pretty straightforward. Once you have it installed, you can go to Tampermonkey to configure it (only necessary for some scripts) by clicking on the Tampermonkey extension icon in your browser (under the three dot menu in Kiwi) and clicking “dashboard”, then clicking the edit icon next to the script you want to configure. When you’re done, click File->Save.

Scripts and instructions under the cut

Some of my favorites:

Flamebyrd’s Incomplete Works script - fades out WIPs on works listings, and displays the work stats (wordcount, chapters, etc) in red on single works to make it more obvious that they’re WIPs as you’re browsing:

Flamebyrd’s Ao3 to Pinboard bookmarklet/script - if you click the bookmarklet while on a work’s page, it opens the Pinboard save screen and prefills the title, tags, description, word count, etc, and adds ?view_full_work=true&view_adult=true to the URL so Pinboard’s archiver will archive the complete work and not the adult content warning screen (note that Pinboard still cannot correctly archive works locked to Ao3 users, so you may want to download them as a backup. I’ve asked him about fixing that.), based on your selections when configuring the bookmarklet on the linked page. If you use the userscript, it adds a button to the works listings page so you don’t even have to open the work to save it:

I tweaked this script so that it only grabs the first pairing tag, since I don’t typically care about secondary pairings and they were clogging up my Pinboard tags. It’s a simple fix (though I know nothing about coding so I had to do some googling and inspect-sourcing; kinda proud of myself tbh):

Just change this part of the script

if ( options.relationship_include ) {

- $(".relationships a.tag", $work).each(function () {

To this

if ( options.relationship_include ) {

- $(".relationships a.tag:first", $work).each(function () {

I also found this cool mobile-optimized Pinboard bookmarklet called Pincushion and combined it with Flamebyrd’s script. Everything works except the auto-tagging, but I’ve reached out on GitHub to see if he can help (according to Flamebyrd, there’s no tag field ID attribute to map to). However, this bookmarklet has tagging autocomplete features that make it easy to tag manually. For example, if you type “steve 21st” it will suggest “steverogersvsthe21stcentury” rather than having to type out “steverogersvs…” in order for it to autocomplete like it does on the regular Pinboard bookmarklet. I actually have two buttons set up (which you can see in the next screenshot) - Flamebyrd's to quickly grab the tags and close without me having to do anything, and then the Pincushion one to quickly edit the tags. If anyone's interested, I can explain how to do that.

To combine Pincushion with Flamebyrd’s script (so it works from the Ao3 works listings page as mentioned above), simply change this part of Flamebyrd’s script:

t = t.split(" ").join( options.space_replacement );

var pb_url = "https://pinboard.in/add?url=" + encodeURIComponent(q) + "&description=" + encodeURIComponent(d) + "&title=" + encodeURIComponent(p) + "&tags=" + encodeURIComponent(t);

void(open(pb_url, "Pinboard", "toolbar=no,width=700,height=350"));

To this

t = t.split(" ").join( options.space_replacement );

var pb_url = "https://rossshannon.github.io/pincushion/?user=YOURUSERNAME&token=YOURAPITOKEN&url=" + encodeURIComponent(q) + "&description=" + encodeURIComponent(d) + "&title=" + encodeURIComponent(p) + "&tags=" + encodeURIComponent(t);

void(open(pb_url, "Pinboard", "toolbar=yes,width=600,height=700,left=50,top=50"));

You’ll need to get your API Token from your Pinboard account and plug it in where it says YOURUSERNAME and YOURAPITOKEN (number part only) above.

FanFictionNavigator - mark fics as Like/Dislike/Mark/InLibrary, highlight with colors based on which option you select, hide/show based on category, like/dislike author and highlight with color. Only you will see how you've marked things.

You can tweak the colors for the highlighting by configuring the script (I find the default colors make the text hard to read because I use the Reversi skin on Ao3 for white-ish text on a gray background). I also changed it so that when I click “hide likes” it only hides liked fics and not liked authors (i.e. hides fics I’ve read, but not unread fics by authors I like), changed the color of the like/dislike/etc links to match the highlighting color and to show up better, and changed the way it highlights authors (I think the default is bold/strikethrough which doesn't really catch my eye. I changed it to highlight the author name in red/green):

Here are my configured scripts if you’d like to use them instead of tweaking yourself (you need to install both):

FanFictionNavigator

FanFictionNavigator - Colors

Note: Your settings for this script will sync via Tampermonkey but not your data (i.e. fics you’ve liked/marked/etc). If you ever switch between browsers, you’ll need to go to your Ao3 Dashboard and click FFNOptions, export your data, then go through the same process to import it into the new browser.

AO3: Kudosed and seen history - highlight or hide works you kudosed/bookmarked/marked as seen. If you want to use this with FanFictionNavigator, you’ll need to turn off “highlight bookmarks” from the settings under the “Seen Works” dropdown that gets added to your Ao3 navbar or FFN’s colors won’t show. Again, data doesn’t sync between browsers but you can copy it from the dropdown settings. However, it pulls your kudosed and bookmarked fics from Ao3 itself, so that will always show. It's just seen/skipped that doesn't sync:

Ao3 download buttons - adds a download button to the works listings page so you don’t have to open the fic to download it. However, it also doesn’t play nicely with FFN’s colors, so I’m using AO3 Review + Last Chapter Shortcut + Kudos-sortable Bookmarks script which also has a download button that works with FFN (a small down arrow next to the author name). The download button doesn’t work as-is from that link, so here’s my tweaked version based off of this comment. You can configure what format you want it to download by default in the script. There’s also a tweak in the comments to fix kudos-sorting, but it overloads Ao3 and you get a “retry later” error for a few minutes when you try to open Ao3, so I don’t recommend it. I don’t know if any of the other functionalities of the script work because I don’t use them, but it looks like there are tweak suggestions in other comments you can try:

I was using Ao3 Replace Words to replace words in fics that bug me but I realized it wasn’t working on mobile, so I’m using zensurf instead which is not Ao3-specific but works basically the same way. If you want to limit it to just Ao3 (so it doesn’t change words on non-fic sites), just add this

// @include http://archiveofourown.org/*

// @include https://archiveofourown.org/*

Above this line

// ==/UserScript==

(function() {

You can // @include other fic sites like ffnet that way too.

AO3: Links to Last Chapter and Entire Works does what it says on the tin, but the creator was kind enough to give me a code snippet to add that makes the “E” (for Entire Work) appear next to all works and add ?view_full_work=true&view_adult=true to the work URL so that I can easily right-click and share to Instapaper and have it be saved correctly (not just the first chapter but the whole work + not the content warning screen for NR/M/E works). Here is the script with this tweak applied:

I think those are the only ones that I’ve done special tweaks for. Here are some others that I find useful that either don’t require any configuration, or should be pretty straightforward to configure and are explained on the script page.

AO3 author+tags quick-search - doesn’t require configuration

Generates quick links from AO3 fics to more by the same author in the same fandom (or character/pairing/any other tag):

Remove leading spaces in AO3 - doesn’t require config

Removes the leading indents for paragraphs in AO3 works.

Ao3 Only Show Primary Pairing - you have to enter the pairings you want in the script, and you can change how early in the sequence they must appear before the work is hidden. Also works with character tags.

Hides works where specified pairing isn't the first listed. Hidden works show a placeholder that you can click to unhide:

AO3: highlight tags - have to enter the tags you want highlighted, as well as the color you want. It matches case so you may have to enter both “Dog” and “dog”, for example.

Configure tags to be highlighted with different colors. This makes a tag more obvious to your eye when browsing. I use it to highlight things I’m wary of in red so I don’t miss them and start reading a fic I might not want.

AO3: Tag Hider - configure how many tags you want to see before it hides them

Hide tags automatically when there are too many tags. Add hide/show tags button to browsing page and reading page.

AO3 Remove Double-Spacing - no config

Removes awkward double spaces between paragraphs on AO3. Doesn’t smush together paragraphs that have a single line break - it leaves those alone.

ao3 series collapser - no config

Collapse works that are later than part 1 of a series. Leaves a placeholder so you can uncollapse if you want to see it.

AO3 Blocker - no config, but you enter what you want to block from the added navbar dropdown in Ao3

Fork of ao3 savior; blocks works based on certain conditions. I find this simpler to use than Ao3 savior.

FYI there are also style scripts for Pinboard on greasyfork and userstyles.org (this site is slow af for some reason, so be patient while it loads). I use show unread bookmarks more clearly and Modern Pinboard Style (basically a dark mode). Neither require config unless you just want to tweak the settings to your liking. To install to Tampermonkey from userstyles, scroll down to “Install style as userscript”.

I also use these extensions in Kiwi:

Ao3rdr - Adds a star rating system (pictured in some of the screenshots above) to Ao3 works that only you can see. This one will sync your data between devices if you use the cloud sync option, which I recommend so you don’t lose your data if something happens to your device or browser.

Dark Reader - not really necessary for Ao3 if you use Reversi skin, but does make all browser pages dark mode if you want it on sites other than Ao3.

Speaking of Ao3 skins, I have another one set up in conjunction with Reversi that shows all the fandoms on a user’s profile, rather than having to click “expand”:

Unfortunately, I can’t remember where I found this. To set it up yourself, go to your Ao3 -> Dashboard -> Skins -> Create Site Skin, fill in the Title (has to be unique), and paste the code below in the CSS box:

#user-fandoms ol.index {

padding-bottom: 0;

text-align: center;

}

#user-fandoms ol.index li {

display: inline;

margin-right: .5em;

line-height: 2.15em;

}

#user-fandoms ol#fandom_full_list {

padding-top: 0;

padding-bottom: 1.5em;

display: block !important;

}

#user-fandoms p.actions {

display: none;

}

Then hit Submit -> Use. There are ways to hide or highlight various elements (ships, characters, blurbs, work stats, etc) on a works listing page using skins on Ao3. This is getting long so I’m not going to go into that, but I’m happy to help if you want to try it. It’s very easy.

Once you have everything configured on Tampermonkey on your desktop, you can migrate it to your mobile device in one of two ways:

Option 1: Go to Tampermonkey settings and change Config Mode to Advanced

Go down to Script Sync and select your preferred cloud service and save

It will ask you to log in to said cloud service

Install Tampermonkey in Kiwi and do the same thing

Wait for it to sync (this can be slow)

It should sync any changes you make moving forward, but again, it’s slow

Option 2: go to Utilities and check all 3 checkboxes under general (include script storage, include Tampermonkey settings, include external script resources)

Either export to your preferred cloud service or

Export as a zip file, move it to your mobile device, go to this same screen and import

I would recommend exporting as a zip for a backup even if you don’t use it to migrate your scripts

You can unzip and upload individual script files (.js) on this page if you ever need to reinstall a single script with your settings instead of all of them

Let me know if you run into any issues and I can try to help! The script writers are also super nice and helpful if you reach out to them. Yay fandom!

[somecunttookmyurl]

Hi sorry to bother you, but I just saw your post about not metabolising medication properly, I was trying to track back to any other mention of it on your blog to find out more because that is ringing a lot of bells with me and I didn't know it was a thing that could happen (I'm not jumping to conclusions I'm just curious), I'm chronically impossible to medicate (presumably what you mean by "Drug Goblin") so I was wondering if you could point me in the direction of the specific thing you're talking about? I tried doing straight to ye olde Google but without a decent starting point I just get vague anecdotal articles </3

oh no worries about not finding it i never tag anything and tumblr's search function is an eldrich horror that's not on you in the slightest

the basics of it (this is very simplified and i'm happy to send papers but they are like. pretty technical which involves "learning what all the words mean first")

- there's a bunch of different enzyme pathways in the liver. just so many.

- different drugs will be processed along different pathways. most drugs only go one way, but some take multiple routes and split off. paracetamol (acetiminophin) for example uses... iirc... three? so some of it goes there, some goes there, and some fucks off over there.

- the normal amount of functional copies of any of these things is 2. and 2 is what the vast majority of people have. if you've got 2 copies then the drugs that ride that highway work broadly as expected. like you know all the "starts working in x time, lasts this long" stuff? based on the normal range

- for any given one of those, it's possible to have 1 (or even 0) functional copies, or 3 (or more) copies. if you have fewer functional copies then your metabolism is slower. the drug sticks around longer, and will have a more pronounced effect. as such, you would need a lower dose. also your toxic dose level would be lower

- if you have 3 (or more) you metabolise faster. as i'm sure you can guess, that means it's processed too quickly and there is less effect because it's been yeeted out at the speed of sound. you need higher doses, administered more often. which is problematic for your poor kidneys who regrettably still have to deal with it.

- all of these enzymes can be either inhibited (metabolism slowed) or induced (metabolism sped up) by various substances. this is, primarily, what drug interaction warnings are. if drug a is inhibiting the enzyme used by drug b, you could have a problem on your hands

- for most though that list is pretty extensive! as such "defects" on most of them don't really go noticed so much because you're probably fixing it by accident by, like, drinking coffee or whatever

- however Local Problematic Bastard known as P450 CYP2D6 (i know. super catchy) is almost entirely genetic - meaning the list of external things that can either inhibit or induce it is fucking tiny

- unfortunately, Local Problematic Bastard P450 CYP2D6 is where an awful lot of very common drugs like to hang out. so if you've got too many functional copies of it there's a whole bunch of shit that Don't Work So Good and your ability to fix it is, uh, limited

- in the general population being an ultra-rapid metaboliser is pretty uncommon. worldwide it's something like 7% and in white people it's 1-2%. however for reasons that are still unclear, people with chronic pain (notably EDS but also stuff like fibromyalgia) have a frankly stupid 70-80% chance of something in there being broken in some way

- which is a fucking cruel joke bc Most Goddamn Painkillers chill on CYP2D6 If you look up CYP2D6 on wiki there's an (incomplete) list of substrates, inhibitors, and inducers. substrates are the drugs that are metabolised along it. if you read the substrate list like "wait a minute... this is all the shit that doesn't fucking work unless i practically OD on purpose" then my apologies but also same and i hate it

anyway a while back i had the thought "what if i added an inhibitor to biohack my own goddamn liver and make it talk to meth properly" which i studied with CBD (one of the few inihibitors that aren't obscure prescription drugs) and spoiler alert: yes. yes you fuckin' can. (i did research this extensively before trying and human studies on the exact same theory have been done before and the results were positive in all but one person, and that's only because that person had an adverse side effects to the inhibitor and had to drop out)

this is something that can only be properly officially verified with a genetic test but sometimes shit be So Blatantly Obvious you don't need to prove it.

[zeppelin-and-unicorns]

Hi! I've literally read every single of your recommendations (and your stories obviously, they're all awesome❤) and because I'm bored again, could you tell me any good smut fanfictions? We habe the same ships, likes dislikes so I trust your opinion😁😁

Sorry it took me so long to answer, this is a long list of stories, lol. Anyways, here are all the good J/H smut fics I could find, enjoy ;D

All These Things That I've Done by c00kiefic

They were either going to kill each other... based on the obvious sexual tension in season 8. AU.

9 chapters, 26k words, complete.

Close Encounters by c00kiefic

Set after JBH. Jackie and Hyde are on a mission to drive the other crazy, what happens when they go see Close Encounters of the Third Kind?

2 chapters, 6k words, complete.

Dolled Up Zen by Weasley's Revenge

Summer is hot. That's part of the reason she loves it. And the wicked things he can do to her skin with an ice cube. That's definitely an added bonus.

3 chapters, 3k words, incomplete (I think?).

First Few Times by isnotme

“So, this was your first time?” -

Neither Hyde or Jackie were virgins when they got together in that summer. But that doesn't mean they haven't a lot to discover with eachother.

Or

A few oneshots about their sex life, bed talks and stuff like that.

7 chapters, 10k words, incomplete.

Halloween: Extended Cut by Hyde's Bride

An extension of the season two episode, "Halloween". Jackie forgets her poncho in the field where the gang buried their permanent records. Hyde goes back with her to get it. What tricks or treats will be in store for them on this Halloween night?

3 chapters, 8k words, complete.

Hyde Bags Jackie by gah-linda

A classic. Pure smut, with a nice plot. Jackie and Hyde begin an affair after "Jackie Bags Hyde".

23 chapters, 75k words, incomplete.

Mired by Tandy

Point Place, where a drive down Memory Lane is not a simple as it sounds.

7 chapters, 22k words, complete.

See Me, Feel Me by elphabachan

When the boys find out Jackie's kinky secret love for The Who, Hyde sees it as an opportunity.

4 chapters, 10k words, complete.

That 70s Show by Zenmaster21

What if Jackie had dated Hyde from the beginning instead of Kelso? This is simply a re-write of the episodes had Jackie and Hyde always been together.

Not focused on the smut, but boy... there's plenty of it. And it's incredibly written.

37 chapters, 152k words, incomplete.

The Love I Need by myboygeorge

Everyone knows when Jackie and Hyde first hooked up. But when did they become lovers? Set as an extension of Season 5's 'Over the Hills and Far Away'.

3 chapters, 3k words, complete.

Working Out The Kinks by bellamarie

Eric, worried about the lack of spark in the sexual aspects of his relationship as of late, decides to turn to one of his closest buddies for help. Hyde decides to take it upon himself to teach Eric the proper way of pleasing a lady. His methods, however, are just a tad bit unorthodox.

2 chapters, 2k words, this story is incomplete and it'll forever haunt me because it honestly sounds awesome.

One-shots:

4th of July by scftlumax

4th of July flops so Jackie figures out a way to make it better with Steven. Set during season 6.

2k words.

53 Minutes, 12 Seconds by MistyMountainHop

Jackie defies a thunderstorm and her past to experience a major first with Hyde.

7k words.

An Alternate Smutty Ending to Jackie Bags Hyde by johnnycakewasgolden

Hyde wasn't kidding around when he said he was opposed to 'doing it.'

Not my usual style, at all. Like, seriously. But, you did ask for smutty stories, and this is very smutty.

2k words.

Beats of Silence by Vampy.rEVOLution666

When she was with Kelso, Jackie never experienced the passion that she always thought she would when it came to sex, so responsibility falls upon the Zen Master to show her that it can be so much better when you're with the right person. Jackie Burkhart and Steven Hyde finally go on their first date, they have their first kiss and they spend their first night together.

3k words.

Being Here by UnfitWriter

Set in season 8, after Sam's departure. Jackie and Hyde can't stand each other, but when something horrible happens to Hyde Jackie will try to console him in only way she knows how.

5k words.

Burn War Snapped by SkittlezLvr79

Can an ultimatum from their friends lead to the end of a long, bitter feud?

3k words.

Cherry Bomb by DoctorFatCat

"The spoiled princess stands there, skipping around to one of the most badass girl band songs he’s ever listened to, singing along to the chorus like she means it. And if in some alternate world Jackie Burkhart decided not to be the classy cute little rich princess she was and became a rebel, that would be her song."

4k words.

Happy Jack(ie) by InternalCrier

Inspired by the end credit scene of ep. 6x17, Happy Jack. “So do you?”

“Do I what?” she asks, playing dumb. She’s stalling, trying to put off this conversation for as long as she can. But it’s inevitable at this point.

He sends her a ‘you know what I’m talking about’ look, but explains anyway. “Do you ever get yourself off?"

3k words.

Magic Man by ShanghaiLily

Just a sexy little 'missing scene' one-shot that takes place after Donna returns from California and she and Eric catch Jackie & Hyde together on the couch but before Kelso finds out about the affair. After a naughty afternoon together, they admit to themselves & each other they don't want to break up.

2k words.

My Dirty Urges by ticklethesky

A smutty little one shot with some cuteness! Set during the episode "Bring It On Home" right after Jackie is caught sleeping in Hyde's bed by the Formans.

4k words.

Never thought 'flowchart' would turn you on by Supersusansun

There’s this ep when Hyde gets back from work and complains at Kitty’s party but Jackie suddenly got understandably hot n bothered. This is just the unshown scene of their sex.

435 words.

Reconnecting by SerenitySparrow

During the party at WB's house in season 8. Jackie and Hyde hook up in a coat closet during the party.

3k words.

Sugar Babies by SerenitySparrow

Set after the Halloween epsiode, Jackie comes to the Forman's basement to confront Hyde with her anger about revealing her middle name. One thing then leads to another...

2k words.

Summer Fling by mrs.salvatore39

What happened before 'what really happened'. Set during the summer after Kelso and Donna leave for California. Prior 5x02.

4k words.

Surprise by SerenitySparrow

Set during the episode when Jackie bakes Hyde some cookies and tries to cheer him up after they learn about Kelso and Angie.

2k words.

Tea For One by KayRight

The second Mrs. Forman walked in with a letter for him he knew what had happened. Marrying her scared him, but losing her terrified him to his very core. Takes place in Season 7 after Jackie tells Hyde she got a job in Chicago.

2k words.

That was close by Crookedlove

Jackie and Hyde get caught, again! Well, almost ;)

1k words.

[lizisshortforlizard]

Living Dangerously - Chapter 13

Jurassic Park’s animal handlers: none of them ever mentioned by name in Michael Crichton’s original novel. Who were they? What were their lives like on Isla Nublar? Did any of them survive the disaster?

A year in the life of those responsible for the care of the dinosaurs. Many people would kill to have their jobs.

But would they die for it?

Jurassic Park novel/Jurassic Park film (1993)

Viewpoint: 3rd person female oc

Warnings: Alcoholism is a theme in this chapter. Also the 1st part is very dark, it’s a flashback to Lizzy’s difficult childhood. Serious injury (no blood), physical and verbal abuse by a parent. Sexism and racism run rampant.

Word count: ~30.4k (13 Chapters) [incomplete]

Tagging: @howlingmadlady @heresthefanfiction @ocfairygodmother hit me up if you want added to the list

Back from an unplanned hiatus with an EXTREMELY LONG chapter! Also the first part is in Scots dialect, I hope it makes sense!

Read on Ao3

Chapter 12 | Chapter 14

Gold Dust Woman - Fleetwood Mac

Govan, Scotland

1973

“Mam’s on the sauce again.” Isla rolled her eyes at Lizzy while she helped plate up sausage rolls and packets of crisps onto mismatched, chipped crockery. They were both standing in the cramped galley kitchen, jostling for space. “We’re doon a bottle of Buckie, or as she calls it ‘whit the feck are ye lookin’ at?’. She snuck it intae her room.”

“Gie it a rest, would ye?” Lizzy snapped at her younger sister. Her heart sank, hurt that her mother couldn’t even keep it together for a few hours. “It doesnae matter. At least she’ll be oot the way when everwan comes o’er.”

“Is yer da coming?”

Lizzy tried not to look bothered and shrugged. “Ah dinnae ken. Ah hope so.”

“Cannae be a bad thing if Mam’s passed oot when he gets here.” Isla poked an errant cube of cheese back onto a plate with a powder-blue polish tipped finger. “Daft idea, ha’en a pairty, ye eejit.”

“It’s no’ a pairty.” Lizzy insisted. She had turned fifteen that very day. She wanted something more grown-up than just going down to the Clydebank to get mashed with her friends like she usually did.

First, a gathering. Food and drink that she’d spent several months paper round wages on, maybe some board games. Then she would go down to the river with her friends once night fell. She’d invited boys from school too. Lizzy had spent all morning cleaning their dingy ground-floor tenement flat in preparation, but she was worried it wasn’t enough. Poor. They were poor. It was obvious. Even in her best clothes that would soon be hand-me-downs for Isla. Maybe her sister was right. Maybe it was a daft idea.

But all that went out of her head when her friends began to arrive. Lizzy kept glancing at the door to the hallway, keeping half an eye her mother didn’t resurface, and hoping that her father would.

Around four the bell rang and Lizzy leapt up to answer it. She was surprised her mother had even agreed to the party- sorry, gathering, but it was the perfect excuse to see her father on her big day. She’d been praying for ages that she would see him again soon.

Please please please. Let it be him.

“Ah thought ye’d fergotten.” She said shyly once she opened the door.

“How could ah ferget ma wee girl’s birthday?” Her father pulled her in for a hug. “Well, yer no’ sae wee anymair.”

“Are ye’ stoppin’?”

He glanced past her. “I, eh-“

“Mam’s no’ aroond.” Lizzy said tightly, half-lying. It’s was unlikely she’d appear any time soon. “Please.”

Her father nodded. “Aye, just a quick wan then.”

They went straight to the kitchen, Lizzy plucking at her blouse nervously. Her best friend Maisie came bustling in with an empty plate, on the hunt for more sausage rolls.

“Everwan’s haein’ a right laugh. And Connor cannae stop gawkin’ at you, Liz-“ Maisie smiled. “Oh, hi Mr Armstrong.”

“Connor, eh?” Her father raised an eyebrow. “Future son-in-law?”

“He’s no even asked me oot yet Da. An’ keep it doon, or he never will.”

“Aye, right enough. Got something for ye. Open it.”

Wrapped in brown paper that smelled suspiciously like fish and chips, was a sterling silver necklace with the initial L on a thin chain.

So like her father. Intention, flawless. Execution, questionable.

“Oh, that’s bonny!” Maisie said, peering over Lizzy’s shoulder, genuinely impressed.

She could never wear it. She’d have to hide it, or it might mysteriously disappear and return in the form of a shopping bag whose contents would clink together.

“Thanks, Da.” Lizzy’s smile faded. “Did ye nick this?”

“As if I’d dae a thing like that! Nah, I saved up, for ma wee Busy-Lizzy. The best thing I ever made. Happy Birthday he-“

There was a thump and crash as Lizzy’s mother appeared in the kitchen doorway, knocking a picture frame to the floor, clutching an empty bottle.

“Whit the fuck’s aw’ this racket?” She slurred, eyes heavily bloodshot, clothes stained.

Maisie was instantly apologetic. “Sorry, Mrs. McTavish. We’ll try an’ keep it doon.”

Lizzy slowly stepped in front of her father to block him from view, but it was too late. Her mother’s expression darkened worse than winter rainclouds over the shipyards.

“Get oot ma hoose, ye bloody rocket.” She scowled, eyes swimming in and out of focus.

“Nae danger.” Her father replied coldly, apologetically rubbing Lizzy’s hand. “Sorry hen, I’ve been given my marching orders.”

“But ye just got here! It’s bin weeks-“ Lizzy faltered, unsure what to do, but her father slipped past her mother with barely a glance, lucky that he wasn’t clobbered over the head with the bottle.

Maisie pushed Lizzy forwards, whispering. “Go oan efter yer da. Me and Isla’ll tidy up and get ye under the brig later.”

Lizzy nodded gratefully and made to leave.

“The fuck ye think yer’ gaun?” Her mother demanded to know. “Ye cannae leave the kitchen in that state.”

“No’ now, mam.”

“Elizabeth. Yer goin’ naewhere. No’ after lettin’ him in the hoose. Dae ye think ahm simple?”

“Definitely no’. Da, wait-“ Lizzy tried to push past her mother to run after him, already out of the door into the street.

Her mother fumbled and somehow managed to grab her hair, making Lizzy yelp in shock. “If ye leave this hoose, yer no’ comin’ back.” She switched her grip to her daughter’s elbow, still somewhat impressively managing to keep hold of the empty bottle.

Maisie looked horrified. “Uh- Isla, can ye’ come oot here, please…” she called out, backing away against the sink.

“Ooyah bugger, mam-“ Lizzy became frantic, raising her voice, starting to struggle as her mother tightened her death grip on her arm.

“Mrs McTavish, it’s awrite, I’ll sort it oot- just let her-“ Lizzy’s friend tried to defuse the rapidly escalating situation but her pleas fell on deaf ears.

“Mam, mam, honestly, stop! Mam, you’re twisting my-“ Lizzy hissed loudly, now very afraid.

“Fer Christ’s sake, mam! Stop it, yer hurting her!” Isla came barrelling into the hallway, trying to dodge the bottle their mother violently swung at her as the rest of the house fell into dead silence.

Lizzy made a final attempt to wriggle free but her mother jerked her backwards with seemingly superhuman strength at the exact same moment. There was a gut-wrenching crack as Lizzy’s left shoulder popped out of its socket.

She looked down dumbfounded at the arm that she could no longer seem to control, dangling limp. Then came the pain.

The tiny flat erupted as her friends rallied to help her, more voices shouting, bawling at her incensed mother, begging her to let go. Her younger brothers wailed amongst the commotion, not understanding what was happening.

But the one person Lizzy really wanted to come back and make her mother stop, he didn’t even turn back to look as her screams of agony echoed around the dirty red brick buildings and the all-too-familiar blue flashing lights appeared around the street corner.

By the time the police van pulled up outside, her father was long gone.

***

Sure, I like to live dangerously.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Lizzy replied, sliding her legs out of the Jeep door, ready to hop down. “Here I was, thinking these dinosaurs were easy.”

The faint prickling on her skin was so familiar, the static before lightning strikes. The fear of something lying in wait in the long grass. The narrow choice of staying put or running, knowing that if you chose wrong, you might very well not see the next dawn.

Such had been life in Namibia. God, she really did miss it.

It was hard to get used to the danger being contained behind fences instead constantly watching your back, living and working alongside it. Lizzy had an inkling the other handlers didn’t feel the same way.

But now, down the slope she could see the gate to the tyrannosaur paddock was wide open. Though the enclosure was currently vacant, the sight gave her chills. She felt drawn towards it, her mind wandering off into the gloom beneath the canopy of jungle trees.

She found herself debating: Now, with a tyrannosaur, should I run or stay still?

Lost in thought, she started when Muldoon spoke sharply to her. “Forgetting something?”

She looked around, eyebrow quirked. “Am I?”

“We didn’t get the tranquillisers ready just to take them for a drive.” He tapped the metal doorframe of the Jeep to drive his point home. “Sharper. From now on. Remember.”

“And I need an office. Remember.” Lizzy wagged a finger.

“Hmmm. We’ll see.”

“So, this is for me? People will talk.” Lizzy said dryly as she shouldered one of the tranquilliser guns.

“That one’s for Harding. Take it and a few canisters down the hill to his Jeep, then go and wait with the other handlers.”

“What are we supposed to do?”

“Watch and learn for now. Safety on, yes?”

“Yes. Got it.” Lizzy checked and slammed the Jeep door, starting to walk down the hill, picking her way over tree roots.

“And Armstrong?”

“Yeah?” She turned back, chewing her lip again.

“Don’t tell Baker about this behavioural business. Or anyone. Not yet.”

But I tell Kathy everything. Even if her friend might be put out at Lizzy’s chance to get ahead.

I’ll tell her as soon as I can, it’s only been two weeks. She’ll understand. Maybe I’ll need a research assistant…

“Office.” She said again to cover for her lack of agreement, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. She would figure out how to avoid blabbing to Kathy later. “Or at least a desk in yours.”

“Christ, people really will talk then. Card table, out in the hall.”

“Alright, alright, we can share a desk. All you had to do was say so.”

“Even worse. Bamileke table in the cleaning cupboard.”

“Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with the candlestick.”

“Damn woman.” He grumbled with finality.

“There it is.” Lizzy was trying not to laugh. As far as she was concerned, she’d won. “Look, just make sure I have a constant supply of coffee and I’ll sit wherever you like. Deal?”

“Sounds like fun.” The Southern drawl came from over Lizzy’s shoulder. “How do I get in on that?”

She shuddered and turned around. Tom had an infuriating smirk on his face, just daring her to say something provocative in return. She gave him a saccharine smile. “Ah, so nice to see you. Whose arse have you just crawled out of?”

“Never mind me. Where’ve you been?” Tom glanced at Muldoon then back to Lizzy, looking her up and down. He leaned in close, squinting at her face and then tapped the side of his mouth. “You’ve got something, there…”

Lizzy didn’t take the bait, just shot him a look of pure venom and kept a tight grip on the tranquiliser gun.

Tom nodded downwards at her occupied hands. “Know how to handle one of those?”

“Better than you do, I’ll bet.”

“Just to be clear Liz, I’m talking about the gun.”

“So was I.” She ground out each word deliberately.

“C’mon, give it to me. It’s way too heavy for you. You’re so short.”

Lizzy shook her head firmly, scowling at him. “Back off. This is for Gerry.”

The tranquilliser was still empty but she was taking no chances. Anyone with any sense knew to always treat a gun like it’s loaded. Then again, Tom was from Texas.

“Kennedy, pack it in. You can patronise her after the tyrannosaur’s in the paddock, not before.” Muldoon cut them both off, not a moment too soon.

Tom looked very put out, but just shrugged and turned his back. Desperate to have the final word, Lizzy muttered under her breath, not caring if he heard. “Your family tree is a goddamn wreath.”

Muldoon gave her a look that quite plainly said enough and she was forced to hold her tongue. Lizzy took herself off down the hill, marching towards Harding’s Jeep before she did something she regretted.

“Merry Christmas.” She presented the gun to the veterinarian.

“And a Happy New Year. Not every day a pretty girl brings me a weapon with a smile on her face.”

Lizzy had discovered that Gerry was totally harmless, but a recent divorcee and an outrageous flirt.

“Better not get any ideas about making me Sarah’s mother-in-law.” Lizzy stopped to chortle. “But that would really piss her off, so how ‘bout it? I’m sure Simon will understand.”

“Maybe once I’ve finished paying off the second Mrs Harding.”

“I’d like a spring wedding.”

“Sure, sure. You stick around, I might need some help in a while.”

Kathy and Isaac came strolling over to join Lizzy. “She made it!” Kathy slyly observed. “I was this close to calling Ray to go wake you up.”

“A lot happened this afternoon, actually.” Lizzy defended.

“Oh yeah, like what?”

Lizzy fumbled in her shorts pocket and held out Kathy’s new nametag while pointing at her own.

“Shit! Now way! How did you get these?” Kathy had ripped the old one off quick as a flash.

“Told you, a lot happened.” Nearly outed herself, but thought better of it.

Kathy took her arm and turned her to one side for as much privacy as they could manage. “Did you get in trouble? I was late this morning!”

“I definitely got a talking-to.” Lizzy glanced back at Muldoon. “And my head hurts something chronic. I think I’ve had too much coffee.”

Don’t say anything. Not yet.

Shit, I hope she doesn’t find out before then.

Kathy groaned. “At least it was your day off! I really hope I haven’t blown my chances at that promotion.”

“You’ll be fine. It happens. Nobody died.” Lizzy reassured her.

“You wouldn’t think so, the way Mike keeps staring at me, like I’m-“ Kathy spoke low. “-trash.”

A distant rumbling reached them in the forest clearing. Everyone simultaneously ceased talking and cocked their heads. A very large, heavy vehicle, moving slowly closer. Headlights through the trees, the crunch of rocks on the gravel road above.

Eventually, a trailer carrying the prone body of a rather enormous creature lying on its side reversed carefully down the hill.

Every single one of the handlers gasped in awe as the ambiguous outline of the dinosaur came into focus.

“Christ, she’s big. She’s huge. Those teeth.” Lizzy breathed. Much bigger than she was expecting. Had to be approaching fully-grown. “Oh Lord, that smell.”

Having arrived trussed up like a joint of meat from the butcher, once the trailer was backed inside the paddock gate and halted, a veritable army of workmen swarmed the tyrannosaur. The network of straps and iron bars were untangled and the animal was lowered to the ground by crane on a sling large enough to entirely cover Hammond’s bungalow like a Big Top.

Harding moved in to do his necessary health checks, the rest of the staff crowding around the gate to get a better look at the dinosaur, but nobody daring to get closer.

All except for one.

Her hands twitching, desperate to know what dinosaur skin felt like, Lizzy turned to Muldoon. Now or never. “Can I touch her?”

“Any reason in particular?”

Lizzy nodded earnestly. “I’ve just got to. When will I get the chance again?”

Muldoon had a feeling she’d sneak her way over there anyway. At least she’d asked first.

“Don’t see why not. Just don’t go getting attached to the damn thing.”

“As if.” Lizzy scoffed.

“Can I go too?” Kathy asked shyly.

“No.”

“Aweso- hey, what the Hell?”

“I’m pulling your leg, Baker. Go ahead.”

Lizzy smiled to herself as she walked ahead. The conversation continued behind her.

“How about you Harris, are you feeling brave today?”

“I’m fine, thanks. Kathy’s the carnivore girl around here anyway-“

Good lad, Isaac.

Lizzy wrinkled her nose as they got closer. “Phew, she really does reek.”

Kathy shrugged. “She might take first prize for the worst thing I’ve ever smelled. And I’ve been ankle deep in jaguar shit. Luckily I always keep Vaporub on me for such occasions.” The younger woman patted the cargo pocket on her shorts.

Lizzy’s hand was outstretched before she was even aware of it, and came to rest on the warm, dry scales of the tyrannosaur’s shoulder. Not cold like she imagined, given the time of day. Different somehow from the snakes and crocodiles she’d held. Interesting.

Harding appeared from the far side of the animal, stethoscope around his neck, halfway through his medical assessment.

“Sorry, let us know if we’re in the way.” Lizzy apologised.

“You’re both just fine there. In fact-“ He held a small torch out to her. “Check her pupillary response for me, would you? I’ll be waking her up from nap time shortly.”

It took everything Lizzy had not to turn and bolt. She managed to play it cool. “Oh sure, send me down to the end with the teeth. Is my street cred with your daughter at stake by any chance?”

“Very much so.” Harding winked at her. “And it’ll look really good if either of you would be, ah…looking for a promotion, perhaps?”

The two women hesitated, looking at each other expectantly. You go first. No, you go first, I insist.

Muldoon said getting closer was fine, he didn’t say anything about messing around with an eyeball.

Harding smiled reassuringly. “She’s snoring, very deep under. It’s perfectly safe. And believe me when I say you’re being watched, should anything happen.”

Sure enough, the tyrannosaur was inhaling loudly and exhaling with big puffs and snorts. Positively thunderous in comparison to anything, human or otherwise, they’d ever heard before.

“Alrighty then.” Lizzy made up her mind, nodded and grabbed the torch from him. “Give me a hand, K.”

Kathy, who had been staring at the veterinarian with her mouth hanging open, hurried to join her at the business end of the tyrannosaur. “My God. My God. This is so cool.”

“Does it ever get old? Being this close?” Lizzy’s work in the bush had been to simply observe, not to interfere. She tended to do everything she could to avoid close encounters. A rhino or leopard would let you know very quickly that they weren’t at all happy to see you.

“No.” Kathy, who had been up close and personal with big cats for most of her career, shook her head. She had monitored the breathing of powerful, deadly animals while they underwent procedures on the operating table, marvelling at their massive paws which engulfed her small hands, claws as long as her own fingers that could knock her flat in one swipe. “It never gets old.”

Meanwhile, back at the paddock gate, there was a heated debate about who would be munched first. Tom had just placed a rather hefty bet against Lizzy.

“Quiet.” Muldoon cut him off. It looked like Harding had just given the women instructions, what the Hell was he playing at?

He watched Armstrong march without hesitation up to the tyrannosaur’s eye and use both hands to pry the heavy lid open, torch held between her teeth.

Baker was right behind her, totally focused on the dinosaur despite the activity around the gate. She had a firm grip on Armstrong’s belt ready to pull her back out of harm’s way should anything go wrong.

“All good, Liz?”

“She’s fine, Gerry!” Armstrong yelled back from around the torch.

Brilliant.

Really need the pair of them on Carnivores. Look at that.

He already knew that for all of their hard work, unfortunately neither of them would be a Team Leader. They never had a chance. According to Richardson, Baker lacked authority while Armstrong was a loose cannon.

Which was probably code for ‘I don’t know how to handle either of them’.

Muldoon kept his hand hovering over the safety of the tranquilliser gun, ignoring Kennedy and his remarks, just in case.

He still had no doubt that Blacklaw wouldn’t hesitate to hunt him down with a machete if anything happened to Armstrong on his watch.

She’s alright. They, they’re alright. They’re fine, they know what they’re doing. Can hear the damn thing snoring from back here. I’ve got them covered.

Richardson whistled and muttered under his breath. “Never thought I’d admit I was envious of a torch. Using both hands at the same time too, maybe she has got some talent after all.”

Tom sniggered.

“Probably not wise to say that when I’m armed.” Muldoon didn’t quite manage to keep the disapproving edge out of his voice.

“Goodness me, bit extreme. You wouldn’t happen to be feeling territorial over that one, would you?”

“No more than usual.”

Richardson looked sceptical. “Bit young for you, and she wants to be on Herbivores. Not to mention the fiancé situation. Shame.”

“Nothing to do with that.”

“Of course, of course. You’re obligated, although that’s not fooling me. Who let them get so close to the damn animal anyway?”

“I did.”

“Then it’s on you if Elizabeth gets injured. Serve her right, that girl could do with being brought down a peg or three. The black one too. Mistake bringing the pair of them out tonight, they didn’t need to be here.”

The black one. Jesus Christ. It was worse than he thought.

They were standing off to the side. Nobody was looking. Richardson was just asking for a broken nose, talking about Baker like that.

She really reminded him of his daughter, back in Kenya. Same contagious smile with perfect teeth, same mannerisms. If his daughter grew up to be half as put-together and pleasant as Baker was, he’d be happy.

But equally he knew what he’d do if anyone spoke about her that way. They’d be in better shape if they got pummelled into the earth by a buffalo.

“If the men are here, they should be here too. And the women have been far more useful.” He looked pointedly at Kennedy, standing with his hands in his pockets, scuffing his boots back and forward through the dirt.

“If you mean useful as in nice to look at? Though between you and me, I’d like to stick something other than a torch in Elizabeth’s mouth.” Richardson guffawed loudly. “That should shut her up.”

Christ, he definitely didn’t want to think about that at a time like this. Muldoon knew what he was doing, of course, trying to rattle him.

And damn him, it was working.

He tightened his hands on the stock of the tranquilliser to keep them from shaking. God, he needed a drink…

Richardson was still going. “And Elizabeth helped you bring the tranqs down here? On her day off?”

“She wasn’t doing anything else.”

He shook his head. “Careful. You don’t want to be accused of having favourites.”

Meanwhile Kennedy’s practically the son you never had. Muldoon liked Armstrong, but he couldn’t pretend they were already closer than was professional. She was too comfortable. Maybe keep more distance between them in future.

Lizzy had just finished carefully replacing the dinosaur’s eyelid. The tyrannosaur snorted sharply, a blast of pungent steam from her nostrils, causing both women to jump, then laugh and point at the other’s reaction.

“Christ, almost got me!” Lizzy put a hand over her heart. “You know CPR, right?”

“Holy cow.” Kathy choked. “Good thing she didn’t do that when you were elbow deep in her eyeball.”

“There would have been a me-shaped cloud of dust beside you. Gone.”

“Batter-batter-swing, batter. Home run from Armstrong.” Kathy elbowed her gently in the ribs, eyes growing wide as Harding happily brandished a needle with a gauge so large that even an elephant might object to it. “Er, let’s get clear. I don’t like the thought of being stuck by that thing.”

***

All that remained was to wait on the all-clear from the control room that the tyrannosaur was up and about before they retired for the night. Harding was the only person left inside the paddock. Mist was falling heavy, as the clouds rolled in from the sea.

Lizzy wasn’t watching the gate anymore. She was watching Muldoon, a tad uneasily.

He seemed distinctly unhappy, was it something she had done?

Hell, it was normal to be on edge while Gerry was still in there by himself with the dinosaur, but the normally impassive Muldoon was beyond that.

Is he alright? Doesn’t look alright.

Lizzy was standing too far away to sidle over and ask. She clicked her tongue to get his attention.

“You okay?” She mouthed, concern written all over her face.

Tell you later. He didn’t say it but she just knew what he was telling her. Lizzy ran her fingers through her hair and briefly did a thumbs up while her hand was behind her head.

“What the hell is that?” Kathy noticed.

“What was what?”

“That weird silent communication thing you just did with Muldoon. You had a whole conversation without even speaking!” Kathy laughed, only half-joking. “What happened today, girl?”

Don’t tell Baker.

“Like I said, a lot.” Lizzy chose to keep her secret, for now.

Richardson clapped his hands, really a very annoying habit he did whenever he made an announcement. “Right everyone! Let’s get this show on the road!”

Lizzy and Muldoon exchanged another look from opposite ends of the clearing. Each could tell the other was thinking exactly the same thing.

The recumbent tyrannosaur was now starting to grumble and stir, flexing her limbs as Harding slipped outside the paddock gate just before it shut with an electric hiss.

The show.

The whole damn park was one big show.

***

Thanks for reading! I found it upsetting writing the first part, but it’s important to know that Lizzy came from literally nothing, in one of the most poverty-stricken areas of Glasgow in the 1970s.

If any of the Scots dialect didn’t make sense hit me up, I’m Scottish and lived in Glasgow for a while so this is hoo ah tawk.

I also mean no offence to Texans. Lizzy has one or two prejudices of her own, and the first Texan she met didn’t exactly endear himself to her.

[xingplytwelve]

Author’s Note: I haven’t been writing for very long, I think 5 years? HAHA. Here’s one that I’ve completed recently! Title: My Barista Boyfriend Pairing: Yixing x Reader Genre: Lil bit of fluff, smut Rating: NC-17 Word Count: 2.7k ‘Can I get your name please?’ The barista asked. ‘y/n, thank you,’ you answered, and he nodded with a smile. You took a quick glance at his nametag before moving on to the collection area. Yixing. At that moment, you felt butterflies in your stomach, a feeling that you haven’t felt ever since you broken up with your boyfriend. It’s been months since your break up, and ever since then, you have been focusing on every other thing except a relationship. You haven’t even been looking at guys since. Well, at least till the moment before yixing showed you his smile. He’s so adorable, you thought to yourself as you waited for your drink. You collected your coffee and found a seat by the window, and was soon trying to complete your school work. As you paused for a break, you looked up, and saw that yixing was looking in your direction. You looked away immediately, avoiding eye contact and diving into your books once again. Your pulse was racing, and you felt your cheeks getting heated up as well. Though you seemed to be engrossed in your school work, but that was the last thing that was on your mind right now. Realising that you wasn’t going to get much work done, you packed your things quickly and left the cafe. What you didn’t realised was that yixing’s vision had stayed with you, even when you exited the cafe. And you definitely haven’t stopped thinking about yixing ever since. You haven’t been able to find a conducive place to do your work, and that was when you thought of the cafe where yixing was working at. Since the day when your eyes met his, you haven’t been going back, as you were so flustered, shy, and afraid of what will happen if that happens again. But looking at the amount of uncompleted work, you sighed as you made your way there. ‘y/n?’ A voice called. It was yixing. ‘You… you remember me?’ You replied in shock, not expecting him to remember your name, or let alone you. Yixing nodded, as he grabbed a cup and started writing your order on it, as he mumbled to himself, ‘of course, how can I forget.’ You were screaming internally, considering that your eye candy remembered you, your name, and even how you like your coffee. As you picked up your drink and headed to the same window seat, you can’t helped but to let your thoughts run wild. Has he been thinking about me? You took a slip of your iced vanilla latte with an extra pump of vanilla, and took out your books. Even though your mind was going wild, but you still have a list of incomplete work that you told yourself to get it done no matter what. Very soon, it was turning dark and you were starting to get hungry. You were so caught up with your work that you didn’t realised the time. Just then, a muffin served on a plate was placed on your table. You looked up, to find that yixing was the one who served you. ‘Hey, it’s getting late. This is on the house ok?’ Yixing said, showing his dimples as he speak. Before you could even thanked him, he turned around as he took off his apron. Ah, it was the end of his shift. He stole a glance at you, before leaving the cafe. You took a bite of the muffin, while trying to process what just happened. And before you knew it, the cafe was closing. A few days later, you returned to the cafe, expecting to see yixing there but to your disappointment, he wasn’t. You grabbed your usual coffee, and sat at your usual spot. You tied your hair up into a loose ponytail, and started on your work. You were trying to solve a difficult sum, and were so engrossed that you didn’t realised yixing had stepped in. It was only when the chair opposite you shifted as a figure sat down, causing you to look up and that was when you saw him. ‘It’s my off-day today, y/n. But I knew you were here, so I came to see you,’ yixing started. You felt blood gushing through your entire body, and causing you to blush slightly. ‘How did you know?’ You answered softly, as you placed one of your hands on your cheeks, hoping that the blush won’t be obvious. Well, it was pretty embarrassing. Yixing chuckled, noticing your actions as he leaned forward a little and answered, ‘Doesn’t matter, what matters is that I get to see you.’ Not knowing how to respond to yixing’s replies, the first instinct of yours was to escape. As you started packing your things, yixing grabbed your hand lightly as he asked, ‘You’re leaving? Here’s not a great place to do your work right…?’ You nodded and gave him a faint smile, but before you grabbed your belongings, yixing had already got hold of them with one hand, while grabbing your hand with his free one. ‘Come with me,’ yixing said. ‘What? Where are we going yixing?’ You asked, but no answers were given. Your heart was beating so fast, and you were hoping that yixing won’t notice any more of your bodily reactions you were having because of him. Very soon, you arrived at an apartment and that was when you realised, it must be yixing’s apartment. It was a one-room apartment, and it’s interiors were simple and clean. ‘You can do your work here next time, I stay here alone. It’s really quiet most of the time,’ yixing said as he brought you in. ‘Really? That’ll be amazing,’ you whispered. Not only did yixing held your hand earlier on, but the fact that you were now in his apartment was getting your heart to race again. Yixing settled you down, and soon, you were starting to get comfortable and was concentrating on your work when you felt a pair of arms around your waist. ‘Damn, you smell so good,’ yixing said as he nuzzled your neck, taking in the sweet scent of your perfume after sitting behind you. Yixing’s actions startled you, and seeing that you were shocked by him, he added, ‘I know you’re attracted to me too, y/n. Just let me stay like this for awhile, ok?’ Yixing was so close to you that you were able to feel his breath against your skin. The close proximity between the two of you was setting your hormones on fire, and all you could think about now was how this man would be like in bed. Your breathing quicken, unaware of what yixing was going to do next, although a small part of you was hoping that yixing will go ahead and do whatever he wants with you, and stop teasing you like this. Yixing tighten his grip around your waist, as he tilted his face and sank it deeper into your neck. Unable to handle what this man was trying to do any much longer, you placed your hands on his gently. Seeing that you’ve reciprocated to his actions, a small grin escaped yixing’s face. He started nibbling your neck, causing you to let out a few soft whimpers. He was clearly enjoying teasing you, and your body was telling him that you liked it. He released his grip from your waist, and used his finger to trail down your neck, passing by your breast and then eventually to your thighs. His playful hands then moved itself inside your skirt, caressing your inner thigh, making you released soft moans inevitably. You were expecting yixing to touch your clit, and yet, his hand exited right before he touched them. Instead, he held your hand as he stood up, and you followed his lead. Yixing turned to face you, and you were now looking at the angelic features of this man whom you’ve been crashing on the very first time you saw him. His boyish black hair, his eyes, so deep that you found yourself getting lost in them. His charming dimples, and his lips, those soft lips that were just nibbling your neck. ‘Yixing…’ you whispered as you landed your hand on his cheeks, caressing his face. You leaned in to find out how those lips tasted like, but yixing was one step ahead of you. He had his hand on the back of your head, and when you decided to leaned in, he got the cue and pushed yourself towards him as he untied your loose ponytail, making your hair to fall into it’s natural state when your lips met his. Those lips, were tender and warm. As you returned his kisses, you felt his hand going down your curves, and was once again inside your skirt. This time round, yixing was harsh. The minute he landed his hand on fabric, he tugged it to the side and started feeling you while you tried to control yourself from releasing loud moans. ‘You’re wet already?’ He asked, in between breaths from the intensifying kisses. You shy away from his eyes, but yixing lifted your chin and ordered, ‘Don’t, y/n. I want you to look at me.’ You obeyed, as he started to unbutton your blouse. He was strangely slow and gentle with your blouse, and you bit your lower lip as you watched him. Yixing had no idea how much he was turning you on, and that you couldn’t wait anymore. You wasn’t sure of where this was going, but one thing you knew for sure, is that you want him right now. Who cares if you can’t visit the cafe ever again because of a fling with the barista. You can always find another place to do your work, but you can’t find someone else like yixing. Yixing then proceeded to remove your skirt once he was done with your blouse, leaving you in your undergarments as he then took off his t-shirt. God, who would have expected that such an angelic looking man would have the body of a devil. His abs were so toned, and you couldn’t help but to harbour the thought of licking and tasting them. You were so immersed in his body, it shocked you when yixing carried you up bridal style, over to his spacious bed. You were unaware that just like you, he couldn’t resist you any longer as well. He then placed you down gently, his hands trailing down your body. Once he reached your hips, he yanked off your panties, after which spreading your legs wide apart. He was now looking at your clit, that was so wet for him. Knowing how much you want him right now aroused him even more, as he leaned forward and tasted you. ‘HNG,’ you let out. Yixing smirked, as he hover his body over you and unclasped your bra, leaving you completely naked. Looking at your naked body only excites yixing even more, and he started leaving sloppy kisses from your jaw, to your collarbones, not forgetting to leave behind markings of him, making you whined from the pain, but you definitely wasn’t complaining. The moment he reached your breast, you felt the warmth from his lips, as he began to nibble your tits, while playing the other with his slender fingers. Whatever yixing was doing was already making you lose your mind, he was just so damn good with you. You begged him not to stop, as you moaned his name in pleasure. You could feel his hard cock from his pants, brushing against your thighs and you knew you wanted it now. Satisfied with how aroused you were, yixing paused whatever he was doing to unbuckle his pants when you sat up and stopped him. You touched his toned abs, then sliding your hand down to stroke his clothed junior, giving it a gentle grip which caused yixing to groan. You then helped him to unbuckle his pants, leaving him in his underwear as you admired his bulging erection. ‘Like it? You like how hard I am cause of you, y/n?’ Yixing asked. You couldn’t even processed what he was saying exactly, anything that he said was just so seductive at that moment. You removed his underwear, releasing his manhood, just like letting a beast out into the wild. You started to lick the tip of his junior, as you locked your eyes with his, and you saw that yixing was biting his lower lip as he fondled your cheeks. Seeing that you were pleasing him, you took his cock with your mouth, going deeper and deeper each time, earning his moans. You then slowed down, and ran your hands through the veins on his hips. ‘GOD Y/N,’ yixing moaned. Not willing to waste a single moment, yixing held both your wrists forcefully and pinned you down, entering you immediately. He thrusted inside you, and was soon fucking the hell out of you. ‘FASTER, YIXING,’ you plead, as you felt close. You were expecting yixing to comply to your request, but instead, he gave you a smirk as he lifted both your legs, turning you over before inserting himself inside you again. You were now on your knees, back-facing him as he placed one of his hands on your back, and the other holding your hair up into a ponytail. He thrusted inside you, harder and faster, giving you a hasty kiss when you turned back to look at him. You soon came, as you grabbed onto the bedsheets violently while feeling a rush of hormones running through your entire body, making you shiver inevitably. Yixing was close, and soon shot his loads inside you. Once you felt him finishing up, you laid down while you were still back-facing him, and yixing soon collapsed on top of you, as he placed his arms around you, giving you a peck on your forehead. ‘That was amazing,’ you whispered, as yixing turned around and pulled his blanket over the both of you. ‘You were amazing,’ yixing replied with a smile, still trying to catch his breath when he added, ‘my girlfriend.’ ‘Who said I’m your girlfriend?’ You giggled as you turned over, facing him. ‘Hey,’ yixing hissed with a frown. He then lowered the blanket slightly, exposing just your collarbones which were full of love bites from him. ‘This, this and this,’ yixing said as he pointed on the markings he left on you, adding, ‘all these marks that you’re mine, ok. And only mine.’ Though his words might sound a little possessive, but it was just the way you liked it. You smiled, as you took his hand and said, ‘Alright, boyfriend.’ ‘That’s more like it,’ yixing grinned. Yixing then threw his hands around you, holding you by your waist, and rested his head on shoulder while he mumbled, ‘good night baby.’ You wondered how is this man so perfect for you, as he turned from being possessive to an adorable, little pup. And very soon, you drifted off to dreamland as well. You woke up to the strong aroma of coffee, and you realised that yixing had placed a sweater of his for you on his bed. You saw that he was sitting on the couch, enjoying his cup of coffee. You put on his sweater, and went over to join him. ‘Hi,’ yixing greeted you with a smile as his dimples deepened, while you sat beside him. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and then asked while passing you his cup, ‘want some?’ ‘Sure,’ you answered. You took a few slips of his coffee, and that was when you realised that the caffeine was probably going to keep you awake till late night. ‘What’s on your mind?’ Yixing asked, noticing that you had drifted away in your thoughts as he placed his hands over your shoulder. ‘Do you usually drink coffee at this hour?’ You asked, turning to look at him. ‘I don’t,’ yixing answered as he shook his head. ‘But I’m prepping us for another round of love making later on,’ he whispered in your ears.

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Promise | Tony Stark

Pairing — Tony Stark x Plus Size Reader (she/her)

Word Count — 900-ish

Request — can you please write me a tony x plus size reader finding out she has an eating disorder? and he makes her feel better about herself as he walks in the room and sees her circling imperfections and crying with a permanent marker?

Warnings — this could be a triggering thing to read, as much as I tried not to mention the ED at hand because I never would do that, it’s obvious what’s going on, insecurity, angst, Tony tries his best to comfort reader, light fluff.

A/N — this might not be THAT good, it was definitely hard to write.

If you need any help, please contact a helpline from this list. My private messages and askbox are always there for all of you. Please be safe.

❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎・・・・・❖︎

The smell of the marker was dizzying. Or maybe that was another effect of the building headache crying always gave you. Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself.

And oh, you had tried. Distractions should’ve sufficed, but they only worked as reminders of what you wanted to be and weren’t.

Around you, the room felt smaller as the seconds progressed and the tears continued falling. The tickle from the tip of the marker barely registered in your brain — you were used to it, the marker was an extension of you by now.

You didn’t hear the door being opened nor the approaching steps. Tony heard your sobs which made him pause. He wanted to ask what was wrong — well, he truly just wanted to fix it but knowing the basics of the problem was a crucial step to do that.

He stuttered, not able to take his eyes off the circles you were drawing over your stomach as you stood before the mirror in your underwear, “sweetheart?”

His voice made you jump. A louder sob escaped you, both out of shame and because he scared you — the movement made you mess up the doodle. He wasn’t supposed to be home yet.

Tony stood behind you, looking at the drawings on your soft skin. “What do they mean?” He had his suspicions already, but he so very badly wanted to be wrong.

A big problem with him was that Tony rarely was wrong, sometimes he wasn’t 100% accurate but never wrong. He usually took pride in it, yet he couldn’t when it came to your health or wellbeing.

You shrugged with one shoulder. “Things.”

“What kind of things?”

“Ugly things,” you admitted. Pointing at different drawn-circles, you explained, “this is hideous, this one is abhorrent—“

He shushed you. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what, Tony? You’re the one who asked.”

“Don’t talk about your body in that way. Please.” The plead was softly spoken, yet loud so his words would be clear.

He was more than sure it wasn’t your fault, but your unfair treatment of yourself scared him to no end.

“It’s just the truth.”

“Give me that.” He extended his hand, staring down at the marker in your grasp.

You silently gave it to him, assuming he would throw it away or hide it in a drawer. Tony instead kneeled in front of you, placing his other hand on your hip and with his face really close to your stomach.

The felted tip scratched your skin this time, probably because Tony was applying a different kind of pressure on the market as he drew. You didn’t want to see what he was tracing, though — one thing was thinking yourself as less than nothing, and other was your partner confirming it.

As he took his time, your anxiety grew. He could hear it in the sighs you were letting out and see it in the movement of your fingers that he caught from his peripheral view. But he wasn’t done yet, far from it.

Looking upward, he took your expression in. Your tightly furrowed eyebrows and nervous eyes were too much for him to handle. Tony left a kiss near your belly button, trying to assure you he wasn’t doing anything that would hurt you.

You only tensed, making him put the marker to the side. His work was so incomplete he now felt like an idiot for starting it unprompted — his intention had been writing everything he thought those circled parts to be, beautiful, soft, comforting, warm, sexy. “Baby,” he called for you, placing his other hand on your hip too. “Look at me?”

Gazing down, you waited for a reprimand or an outburst. You waited for something that never came. Tony started peppering kisses over your belly, letting his hand trail down to your thigh.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled on your skin, sucking gently on it. “So gorgeous. Like a goddess.” You scoffed but he ignored the gesture, understanding it wasn’t easy to change one’s mind. “(Y/N),” he stared up at you again, “I promise you there’s nothing wrong with your body.”

“It doesn’t look like that, Tony. It feels like all the contrary and I’m just...” you lifted your arms in exasperation. “I’m tired. I hate it and nothing you say will change the way it looks.”

Tony stood up, taking your hands in his as he stared into your eyes. “My sweet love, I don’t want to change the way your body looks. I want to change the way you look at it.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Yes, it is.” Tony leaned in to kiss your forehead, multiple times. “It won’t be easy, but it’s possible. I’ll help you, yeah?”

You wanted nothing more than for that to be true, to be free from hating every centimeter of your body and the way it felt and looked. “What if it doesn’t work? I don’t want you to waste your time.”

“You’re not a waste of time, you are my everything and I want you to be happy.” Feeling you wrap your arms around him, Tony added, “I will help you be happy, I promise.”

Clinging to him, you nodded against his t-shirt. You were at a loss of words, mostly because there wasn’t a part of you that didn’t believe him when he said he would help you but also because you wished you didn’t need help in the first place. Either way, you had him and his support — everything would, eventually, be okay.

[illshowyourhurricanes]

A Familiar Face (Part 6)

It’s been a long time coming, but Ryan is finally making an appearance! Just for a quick recap of sorts, something completely unexpected took place in reader’s life, and Ryan was there to help in any way he was able (because that’s just the way our angel musician is). After a delayed dinner, it’s reader’s first night in an unfamiliar place. (This is basically setting the stage for a lot yet to come.) Thanks for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Word count: 3750

Rating: PG (flirting, bedroom eyes)

Tag list: @dylanobrusso​ @obscurilicious​ @the-blind-assassin-12​ @something-tofightfor​ @ms-delos​ @lexxierave​ @madamrogers​ @yannii04​ @gollyderek​ @carlaangel86​ @bicevans​ @maydayfigment​ @thisisparadisemylove​ @ladyofnaps​ @malionnes​ @thesandbeneathmytoes​ @crushed-pink-petals-writes​

If you’d like to be added to or removed from my tag list, feel free to ask!

Dishes were a necessary evil. Ryan had put up a fight after lasagna was eaten and you both had full bellies, insisting that you had made dinner, which gave him automatic dish duty. You’d swatted him away playfully several times, telling him he was overruled and he finally obliged, backing away from the sink.

“Payback in the form of a few songs would be much more fulfilling,” you promised, an almost impish lilt in your tone, and you found yourself smirking as you turned back to the sink.  Were you flirting? Your home had just been ransacked, you were offered a new place to stay temporarily, you’d finally had dinner… after all the ebb and flow of disaster versus small miracles, flirting was nothing short of a terrible decision.

Georgie is not present, you reminded yourself. He’s almost guaranteed to stay away for awhile. You are fully alone with this man who you’re inexplicably drawn to and fascinated by, this man who is warm and kind and very, very attractive. Tread lightly around Ryan Brenner. Be careful.

Conversation was easy between the pair of you, even if there were times when Ryan wasn’t very forthcoming. You leaned in the opposite direction, an open book about most things, and it became effortless to learn to fill silences, accustomed to doing so in making small talk with customers at the diner. But with Ryan, there was no need for filler by way of insignificant pleasantries. Silence between the two of you was okay, and you found that Ryan almost communicated with more clarity without words than he did with them. Sometimes, they weren’t necessary. His dark eyes were surprisingly expressive. There was a slight furrow of his brows when he was apprehensive; a look of authority about him as he’d walked with you throughout your apartment… he had been protective yet gentle, inquisitive but never intrusive. Ryan was attentive, in tune with everything around him. He noticed even the tiniest things, the slightest change in tone or mood, a flicker of emotion over someone’s features, small beats passing in hesitation.

You had become lost in your thoughts, and there was no question he’d picked up on the shift from joking about dishes to a stretch of silence. Instantly, he was mulling over possible reasons as to what caused such a stark change in so little time. It was more than what had happened in your apartment, and it was obvious Ryan from one small nuance he’d never seen you indulge in before. You'd started to gnaw on your bottom lip, and it was only when the skin grew raw that you caught yourself and stopped short. You’d barely realized it happening, yet Ryan instantly caught on.

As the sink continued to fill with warm water, you glanced across the kitchen to see Ryan clearing off the table, stacking plates one atop the other.

“Ryan!”

He crossed the room with two long strides, suddenly beside you where you stood by the sink. The plates were sat down onto the counter with a light clatter. Ryan shrugged lightly, but his eyes were trained on your face. You felt a heat creep up and over your cheeks; you were supremely aware of his gaze, unassuming, yet steady. Clearing your throat— a nervous habit you’d had for as long as you could remember—you turned off the faucet, satisfied with the water level in the basin of the sink. There was a layer of soap suds atop the water,  reminiscent of a bubble bath; a few wayward bubbles floated into the air only to pop spontaneously into thin air. Promptly, you began washing.

“You okay,Y/N?” Ryan’s voice was soft, but the intonation of his question was clear— he knew the answer already. He studied your profile without a word, and your expression paired with a long moment of silence only confirmed the feeling he had.

Remaining quiet, you scrubbed at a blob of cheese that had melted onto a plate, stubborn and stuck, not budging against your efforts. Dropping the plate to soak in the dishwater, you finally met Ryan’s eyes.

“I will be.”

You smiled softly in appreciation. This man was an angel, you were sure of it. He in turn  searched your face for a moment, that slight furrowing of his eyebrows making a brief appearance and vanishing as swiftly as it had appeared. You looked away only to battle against the glued-on cheese again, and you felt a small soar of triumphant gratification as a clean plate was revealed with just three swipes of your sponge. Ryan remained standing just a few inches from you, catching the feather light upturning of your lips. Gently, he took the plate from your hand and began drying it. You laughed, snatching the dish towel out of his hand. “Get outta here, Brenner!”

Narrowing his eyes playfully, he handed back the halfway-dried plate in mock defeat, backing toward the threshold of the kitchen. He stopped just short of reaching the corridor and laughed softly.

“I’m stoppin’, you get no more help from me.” He held up his large hands in mock surrender, amusement shining in his warm brown eyes. There was an obvious look of kindness to his expression; the glint of laughter and mischief there had softened to one of genuine fondness. With one small nod, he turned and disappeared down the hallway. You got back to work, and just as you pulled the stopper from the drain of the sink, you heard the squeak of old pipes followed by the distinct sound of the shower running, water pounding against ceramic like rain against a tin roof.

You leaned back against the counter, hands behind you as you braced yourself. You were hyper aware of the knowledge that Ryan was showering directly above you, and you shook your head, forcing yourself to clear your mind and focus… focus on dealing with your disaster of an apartment, of getting your life together and back in order. Those were important things, essential things, not at all related to the kind, gentle, talented, attractive and wonderful man who was currently naked and wet with nothing but the barrier of the ceiling between the two of you.

You shook your head vehemently, firmly reminding yourself  that your mission was to focus on significant things. The only problem there was that you kept catching yourself focusing on Ryan, more than you probably should, and he made it so easy to do so-- almost too easy. It was within the ease of his authenticity, the careful choosing of his words and ever-present optimism; in the way he appreciated life’s simplest pleasures that everyone else took for granted; in the genuine kindness of his character, his quiet chuckling and bashful, boyish smiles. You were fascinated, enthralled, and charmed by this man, yet a single thought remained, tarnishing your view: he would soon be gone.

Ryan hadn’t said as much, hadn’t given a date or a time or even mentioned traveling to another location, but you had a striking feeling, and the realization hit you like a freight train. You’d made only a small space for him in your life at first, but you’d easily allowed that space to grow. Without him there occupying a bench in the cold, playing guitar with numb fingers you’d hope to warm up with a cup of coffee; without his presence alone giving you reason to actually make dinner; without the indulgence in pleasant conversation while you closed the diner…  You were struck with a heavy ache deep in your chest. Your life would go back to normal to a point, but you had a hunch it would feel a little bit incomplete.

It was a feeling you were used to and thought you’d grown into, barely noticing it over the years, but you knew that  this time, it would sting like rubbing alcohol poured over a fresh wound. It would linger.

You found yourself spiraling into a seemingly endless cavern of thoughts, just as you had earlier in the evening. How long would it take for the inevitable loneliness to fade? How many early mornings would be tainted with the memory that Ryan wouldn’t be there tuning his on your way to work, but instead making his way to a new location?

You’d consciously made the choice to live the way you did. When you weren’t working and surrounded by co-workers and customers alike at the diner, your life was one of solitude, and you were content with that. But that was before Ryan appeared and took up residence in your life. You were painfully aware that when he was gone, maybe that contentment would tarnish and corrode. Maybe your solitude would turn bitter with no one else’s voice to replace the slow drawl of Ryan’s, soft like velvet; no distraction from constantly remembering the distinct color and depth of his eyes, always radiating warmth; no substitute for the sound of his guitar-- the music that had brought Ryan into your life, bringing streaks of sunshine and brightness along with him, replacing your shades of grey. Maybe your solitude would shift and transform to loneliness.

How long was it going to take to find another apartment with affordable rent? Where would you even start to look? Was a space with an alarm system really necessary? Were you foolishly making yourself too available to access, and how could you begin to remedy that? Your brain was stockpiled with thoughts, ricocheting against the inside of your skull like bullets, no reprieve between one shot firing before the next one flew your way. Continuing to work, you opened several wooden cabinets until you found where the dishes were kept. You put them away, the soft clattering of stacked plates the only sound in the silent house; the soft pattering of water against the shower walls had stopped.

You located a roll of Saran Wrap, carefully tearing off enough to cover the remainder of lasagna that you and Ryan hadn’t been able to finish. Seamlessly, you covered the dish. It had taken a lot of practice and many, many sheets of Saran Wrap crumpled and thrown angrily into the trash, but since working at the diner, you’d finally mastered the art of winning the fight with cling wrap. The diner. You had to call Sophie, ask her to pick up your shift tomorrow if at all possible. I just need a day. One day.

You opened the refrigerator and placed your glass baking dish inside, disappearing just long enough until you heard footsteps echoing over old, wooden floorboards, accompanied by a creaking once or twice. Closing the refrigerator door, you gave the kitchen one last look. Absentmindedly running your palms over your denim-clad thighs, you exhaled, satisfied. And the anxiety that had been weighing like a heavy stone in your abdomen was all but gone. It was part of the reason why the diner meant so much to you— the routine of your days, the feeling of accomplishment as you wished another satisfied customer a good day and cleared away their dishes— there was a comfort there, and you found that feeling as you stood upright, softly closing the refrigerator door as you did so. The room was still empty.

Though you’d heard Ryan return from the back of the house, you were surprised not to find him there; it was out of character for him to leave you alone unannounced. You recalled the small exchange you’d previously had before he’d disappeared down the hallway:

You okay, Y/N?

I will be.

You would be, and it then dawned on you that a connotation may have been attached to those words, one that Ryan may have taken as your way of saying you’d rather be alone. Hoping desperately that meaning didn’t mistranslate in his mind, you ventured through the kitchen, your steps slowing as you peeked into the next room. Since arriving at Georgie’s, you hadn’t made it past that one small room, You found yourself in the doorway of what appeared to be a den.

The first thing your eyes settled on was an old set of French doors paned with long windows. The old wood that surrounded the windows needed to be stained, but the doors were charming in their own way. You paused to have a quick peek outside; you could barely see a blanket of snow on what seemed to be a back porch. The darkness was so much thicker out of town, tucked away and surrounded by trees. If only the weather was nicer.

You took a few more steps inside, noticing Ryan’s absence, and you frowned. You supposed he wasn’t required to babysit you. It was quite the contrary, actually. He was a grown man who led his own life, and just because he’d been kind enough to offer you a place to stay, his company would just be a bonus.

Even still, you were enchanted by the room you’d found, and decided to  allow yourself to wander in farther and explore. On the far wall opposite from where you stood was occupied almost entirely by an archaic wood-burning fireplace, and the vision brought a full smile to your face. Outdated red brick ran from floor to ceiling. The hearth was surprisingly roomy, and a long mantle, solid wood in a warm chestnut shade, adorned the smoke shelf. It was homey, cozy, and you walked to stand in front of it as you noticed assorted picture frames decorating the mantle. You stepped past wainscoted walls, between a tawny, threadbare sofa set, and a bookshelf stuffed with books, not an inch left unoccupied on any of the four shelves. You spotted a set of encyclopedias, gold in your school days. Finally you reached the fireplace, bending at the waist to touch the red brick of the hearth. The brickwork appeared to be dusty from underuse, but in pulling your hand back, palm up, there was nothing dirtying your fingers. Your idea of dust due to neglect was quickly debunked  by a small pile of ash in the firebox, soot caking the sharp end of the stoker hanging neatly from a wrought iron tool stand.

Finally getting around to the picture frames that had drawn you to the fireplace initially, you jumped at an unexpected clattering coming from outside the French doors. Spinning to look, you let out an involuntary yell as one of the doors flew open. In stepped Ryan, arms full of logs, his biceps straining from the weight, Kicking the door shut behind him, his eyes widened at the sight of you. Crossing the room in two long strides, he halfway tossed the logs down on the hearth unceremoniously.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” There was concern in his voice and he was peering down at you with those piercing, dangerously dark eyes. The depth of them had stolen words from your mouth. When you didn’t answer, Ryan reached past the small space between the two of you, the rough palms of his hands calloused from guitar strings and train cars curling around your upper arms, and you yelped again, recoiling instinctively.

“Your hands are freezing!” Heart still pounding at your rib cage, you took a deep breath in in an attempt to steady your breathing. “Holy shit.”

Falling down onto the couch behind you, you started to laugh. You laughed harder the more you thought about the absurdity of the situation, tears pricking behind your eyes and overflowing, leaving tiny, wet rivulets down your cheeks.

You caught Ryan’s glance, eyebrows knitted together in what you could only gathered to be utter confusion. He watched your every move as you wiped the tears from your face with the backs of your hands, blinking quickly and collapsing back against the couch. Your laughter subsided and you managed to find your voice

“I thought I heard you while I was finishing up in the kitchen, but when I wandered in here…” You trailed off with a shrug. “I spotted the pictures on the mantle and was just about to get a closer look when you came bursting through the door. I was not anticipating that.” You let out a short breath of a giggle, and as if trading places, you were now the one watching Ryan’s every move.

His eyes lit up with amusement at your explanation, and by the time you were done, he was all-out grinning, apples of his cheeks rounding. You noticed then that he’d cleaned up his beard, trimmed it closer to his skin. He ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck as he chuckled, the sound deep and melodic. Glancing over at you, smile still there, Ryan just shook his head.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” You caught his gaze lingering on you, and you swallowed a lump that had suddenly popped up in your throat. Like a stupid and inexperienced child, you looked away in a bout of uncertainty, cursing yourself silently.

“Thanks, I think.” You broke the momentary silence as Ryan turned to back to the fireplace, his back to you as he half-grinned into the firebox, arranging a few of the logs there. Afterward, he turned to neatly stack the remaining wood he had dumped onto the hearth. You tried not to think about the way the lean muscle in his back and shoulders shifted as he moved, the bulging of his biceps each time he effortlessly added to the stack. You felt as if your eyes may burn holes through his thin, white t-shirt. Your gaze fell to his lower half, and you allowed yourself the opportunity to appreciate the way his grey sweatpants hung low over his hips, loose-fitting but still highlighting his physique.

It was only as your eyes moved upward from his torso, again drinking in the rippling of his back that you noticed his hair. It was brushed back, away from his forehead, damp with snow. You let your mind wander, wishing you’d caught him a few minutes earlier than you had, fresh out the shower. You imagined him with his whole headful of thick, overgrown hair neatly combed back.

It was different, seeing him this way, his hat and coat abandoned, jeans and hoodie traded for something much more comfortable. It was a good different, one that made you feel oddly secure. You could get used to it far too easily.

Softly smiling to yourself, you settled further  into the couch as Ryan paused, standing upright, hand disappearing into his pocket momentarily. Drawing out a lighter, he leaned in toward the firebox, supporting himself with one forearm on the hearth, and if life came with a pause button, you would have used it right then and there. It was a feat, but you tore your eyes away from his physique at the tell-tale crackling of a fire coming to life.

As comfortable as you were lounging on the old couch, you pulled yourself up and to your feet. Raising your arms high above your head, you stretched before dropping your arms back down to your sides. Joining Ryan in front of the fire, you rolled your neck side to side as you turned to warm your front. The fire was quickly roaring to life, and you were so thankful for the warmth.

“This feels amazing. The initial terror was well worth it.” You kept your voice quiet, just loud enough for Ryan to hear over the popping and crackling of the burning wood in flames. Rubbing your hands up and down arms for more warmth, you looked sideways at Ryan and smiled. “Can I ask you something?”

To your surprise, there was no hesitation on his end; no pause as he mulled over whether or not he’d mind answering, no shadow of apprehension over his eyes or pinching together of his features. Ryan simply nodded, made a low humming sound in acknowledgement as he turned his head to look at you.

A chunk of hair fell forward into his eyes and your breath hitched in your throat. You’d never put so much effort into your face remaining neutral, and it was all for nothing, because nothing got past Ryan Brenner. He may not necessarily vocalize as much, but you’d learned how observant and attentive he was.

Forcing yourself to exhale, the corners of your lips turned upward and you put your hands on your hips just for show.. “Why did you go out in the snow with just a t-shirt on?! You can’t go catching pneumonia, Ryan  I need you.” Your voice has started with a teasing tone, but all traces of it had vanished as you finished. Underneath everything, you were exhausted and vulnerable, and this incredible man was all you had.

He cocked his head to the side, giving you a once over with no effort put into hiding it. There was no threat, no ill intent or shadow of anything inappropriate but your skin felt like it could burst into flames under the heat you couldn’t swear you glimpsed in his eyes. Ryan locked his eyes with yours, and there was no discerning where his pupils met their iris. You’d never seen his eyes so dark.

“Just didn’t think about needin’ to find dry wood.” His eyes were still trained on you as if you were a rarity, one he wanted to keep as a secret. “I was preoccupied.”

Ryan gave you a meaningful look then, eyes still startlingly dark, and turned to head out of the den. “I think I owe you a couple-a songs, Y/N.”

Your ears were tuned into the rhythm of his footsteps, the way the sound faded the further he walked. Inhaling deeply, your breath was unsteady. You’ve had more than enough action today, you warned yourself. Important things. Focus on important things. You heard Ryan’s footsteps growing louder, and your shoulders relaxed at the sound. Just knowing he was making his way back had already overruled your reminder to yourself, and you couldn’t have cared any less.

As if on cue, Ryan returned, guitar slung over his shoulder and hanging at his back. Important things. Ryan Brenner was an important thing, and you couldn’t change that. You reconciled that fact, and it was so simple to accept. Too simple. So be it.

You watched as Ryan walked across the room, sitting on the couch across from the one you occupied, he adjusted his guitar onto his lap and began tuning. Her tweaked and turned the pegs on either side of the headstock, that chunk of hair falling over his forehead and into his eyes again. You didn’t think Ryan even noticed. He was so focused on his instrument, so intent in getting the tuning right that he was completely absorbed in the matter at hand. 

“Do you have any original songs, Ryan? Your covers are wonderful, but I’d really love some authenticity.” Your words were bold and you knew you were asking a lot, maybe too much. You braced yourself for a simple shaking of his head side to side.

“That’s one thing I can give you, Y/N.” With one last, single strum, the old acoustic was tuned to his satisfaction. He looked up from the guitar only long enough to turn his attention to you, giving a soft nod. You nodded back at Ryan, promising him your full and undivided attention, and with that, he positioned his fingers on the fretboard and began to play.

[myheadinthecloudsnotcomingdown]

When Lila Gives You Lemons - Chapter 3

AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

The akuma attack that afternoon was actually a blessing, Adrien thought as he bounded up the stairs towards Marinette’s room. He had taken advantage of the standard after-attack chaos to text his bodyguard saying he was spending the afternoon doing homework with a friend. His father would assume he meant Lila and no one would think to check until that evening.

Marinette was already waiting for him when he burst through though the trapdoor of her room.

“Sorry I’m late,” Adrien puffed, “Akuma.”

“Problem no! I mean, no problem,” Marinette seemed a little out of breath as well, “I-I just got back.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment before Adrien broke the silence, “So…extra credit?”

Marinette jumped, “Yeah!” She ran over to her desk and Adrien pulled up a chair to sit next to her. She pulled out a sketch book and opened it to a messily drawn table. Adrien read the headers: offense, arrived, location. There were times written in the first two columns and then a location in Paris in the third. Adrien also noticed that some lines were crossed out while a few had notes scrawled in the margins.

“Very impressive,” Adrien remarked honestly making Marinette blushed. “What are we going to do with it?”

“Well,” Marinette hesitated, “I-I, uh, was wondering, well, if it’d be possible, but if it’s not then I guess it’s not a problem. Ugh! I’m such an idiot, this was a bad idea.” That last part was to herself. Adrien put his hands on her shoulders.

“Don’t worry Marinette, I get it. It looks like you collected all this data yourself, so I’m guessing this is kind of a self-designed extra credit project?” Marinette looked relieved and nodded, “So if the teacher doesn’t have anything specific that he wants you to do, what do you want to find out from this data? I mean, you wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of collecting it if you didn’t have something in mind…”

Marinette seemed to calm down a little at that and squared her shoulders. She looked at the list rather than at Adrien and took a deep breath, “I want to try and find a location. If… something…left around the time in the offense column and arrived at the written location at the time in the arrived column, can we find out where these things are coming from?” Marinette risked an insecure glance at Adrien, clearly unsure if this was even possible.

For his part, Adrien thought it was an odd choice for an extra credit project, but his mind had already taken a running start, “It should be, as long as we know about how fast these things travel,” he was starting to get excited and couldn’t keep a grin off his face, “You chose a really interesting project Marinette!” Adrien looked around, “You wouldn’t happen to have a map, would you? I think it’ll make things easier if we can visualize it.”

Marinette tried jumping up out of her seat but ended up tangled up with the chair as it fell to the floor. “I’m ok!” She yelped, untangling herself from the chair and running to the corner of her room before Adrien could try to help her. She came back with a massive roll wrapped in cellophane. Adrien laughed as she unwrapped the map and spread it out on the floor.

“You’re always prepared, aren’t you Marinette?” The girl gave him a shy smile before grabbing a sheet of stickers from one of the desk drawers and turning her attention back toward the map. Adrien was already putting books at each of the corners so it would lie flat.

“I was thinking we could start by putting a sticker at each location I have written down, that will at least give us an idea of the general area we’re working with, right?”

Adrien nodded, “Good idea. I’m assuming that we can ignore the locations you’ve crossed off on your list. Those are incomplete data, right?”

Marinette nodded and handed Adrien a sheet of stickers. Adrien found it easy to work with her and it wasn’t long before they sat back to admire their handiwork. There were around thirty stickers spread out over Paris, although many seemed to be concentrated around their school. Adrien looked up the formulas he needed on his phone and they got to work on their calculations.

By the time that Adrien had explained the basic math to Marinette, she was feeling more confident and was starting to lose herself in the flow of the project. Adrien watched her plug the numbers into the formula he’d shown her and grinned as she started muttering to herself, oblivious to everything besides the problem in front of her.

“…so, if I was at the Eiffel Tower… that 11:35…and factoring in how fast the average akuma flies…”

Adrien felt his smile melt. Akumas? He took a closer look at the list in Marinette’s sketchbook. Sure enough, the writing in the margins were names of various akumas that he and Ladybug had fought in the last few months. How was she collecting this data?

Marinette had finished her calculation by this point and was watching Adrien in concern.

“Adrien, are you ok? What’s wrong?”

“You’re trying to find Hawkmoth.”

Adrien felt numb. Marinette went pale and her mouth worked as she tried to come up with something to say.

“I know it’s dangerous. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you what I was doing…I didn’t want you involved any more than necessary.”

Adrien laughed to himself. Too bad Marinette didn’t know how deeply Chat Noir was already involved in the fight against Hawkmoth. If anything, he was more concerned with how deeply this involved Marinette. After all, she didn’t have superpowers to protect her like he did.

“So…” Adrien was still trying to wrap his head around the situation, “This list, you’ve been keeping track of the akumas?”

“Potential akumas,” Marinette corrected, “I payed attention to situations around me that had the potential for strong emotions and then stuck around to see if a villain appeared. The crossed-out lines mean that no akuma ever showed up, even though there was strong negative emotion.”

“And the lines without a name written by them?”

Marinette froze and Adrien waited. Finally, she screwed her eyes closed and:

“Those were ones that came after me.”

Adrien’s stomach dropped and he felt his ears start to ring. There were dozens of unlabeled entries. What was going on with Marinette?

“It’s Lila,” Marinette refused to look him in the eye, “I didn’t saw anything because, well, you’ve got enough problems with her without adding mine to the mix and I didn’t want you to worry, and I know that it’s best for her lies to just self-destruct because I really wasn’t getting anywhere trying to call her out, but she threatened me in the bathroom and said she’d turn all my friends against me and I thought that if I stopped trying to call her out, then she wouldn’t be able to do anything, but that didn’t work and I’m pretty sure Alya hates me now, not to mention the rest of the class, and she’s always hanging off you even though it’s obvious that you hate it and…”

“Whoa Marinette, slow down! Did you just say that she threatened you?”

Sometime while she’d been taking, Marinette had crossed her arms in front of her chest and had started to look very small. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have told you that. I don’t want you to worry.”

“Well too bad, Marinette, I’m your friend, that means it’s my job to worry about you. I didn’t know that things with Lila had gotten so bad.”

Marinette shrugged, “If I can find Hawkmoth, it’s all worth it. I’ve gotten really good at breathing exercises so I can calm down quickly, and if Lila’s going to make my life miserable anyway, I may as well make the best of it.”

Adrien stared at her with wide eyes, “You’re amazing Marinette.”

She blushed again before a determined glint appeared in her eyes and she smiled, “Let’s find ourselves a terrorist.”

They worked in silence the rest of the time, Marinette occasionally calling Adrien over to check her calculations. It was almost time for Adrien leave when they finally finished.

“Ok, so, just so you know, these data points are far from exact. After all, we don’t know how long after the initial stimulus Hawkmoth sends the Akuma, so all we really have is a search radius of where Hawkmoth’s lair might be, not a solid address, but it’s a solid start.”

On the map, they had charted out the akumas paths and had colored in the search radius that they had calculated. Marinette gasped and Adrien had to fight down the bile rising in his throat.

In the middle of their search radius, highlighted in red marker, was the Agreste mansion.

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch6

Cause...

~~~Previous Chapter~~~

Word count - 3,214

A quick note - I have gotten a few requests for permission to create fan art of this fic. This goes out to all of you - Go nuts. I'm honored that anyone gets inspired by my work and I will never have a problem with someone being creative. I'd love to see anything you guys make, but if you aren't comfortable I still want you to do it. Have fun :)

__________

You sighed as the last patient left the room, alone at last. Thoughts raced through your mind, whizzing like Mentos in a bottle of Coke. Too much happened today, you needed the chance to process and assess.

First of all, you outright lied to your boss. You risked your career, your reputation and integrity, and for what? Why did you do such an idiotic thing? It made no sense, but it was quickly becoming a pattern. First the hidden sketch, then the incomplete notes regarding your sessions, and now this. What was wrong with you?

Second, walking in on V’s…

You pursed your lips as blood rushed to your face. Even thinking about it made you feel like an idiot.

Third, the artist’s behavior with the other patients. You’d imagined a variety of possibilities for the session, but not once had you pictured him teaching, showing patience and compassion. The man seemed limitless in his ability to surprise you.

However, you struggled to believe the moment was genuine after the wink. Was he only putting on an act for your benefit? If so, why?

If his goal was to convince you of his stability the wink was a stupid choice, and V was anything but stupid. Had he simply meant it as a playful gesture, a manifestation of your strange relationship? Unlikely, but possible. His version of an inside joke, perhaps.

Or he may have only wanted to throw you off. He loved playing mind games, after all. It would fit what you knew of him so far, but something still felt off about the exchange. None of the scenarios brought you any comfort or reassurance.

Fourth on your list of weird things that happened today; his painting. Since several others already saw it, there was no chance you could keep it from his file. All you could do was cross your fingers and hope Malphas didn’t read into it too much.

You glanced at it every few seconds as you gathered the used brushes and rinsed away the paint, scrubbing at the palettes until they returned to their pristine white. He truly was gifted, there was no denying that. Even with your limited understanding of art, his skill was obvious.

But that wasn’t why you couldn’t stop looking at it.

No, that was due to the subject of his work. You took another look as you set the supplies aside to dry, searching for insights into his thoughts. Any detail might prove crucial to his treatment, regardless of what the image made you feel.

It wasn’t your job to feel; only to treat.

He’d created a sunset over a grey building, windows dripping with what could only be blood. Barren trees and wilted grass framed a narrow stone path, a pair of bats in mid-flight between their desolate branches. Every stroke led the eye to the two figures traversing the scene, their likenesses too familiar to ignore.

Kotomi’s form featured energetic shades of scarlet, evocative of rage and hatred. A sickly green hue replaced the normal chocolate shade of her almond eyes and a cruel grin twisted her lips. She resembled a demon or a monster from an old myth. Devoid of her usual radiance and beauty, leaving only spite and fury behind.

Beside her stood a figure that could only be yours. Even with her face turned away, it was clear from the hairstyle and clothing. Unlike with Kotomi, V used vivid purples and blues to create your image. He’d taken the time to use a finer brush, adding details ignored in all other areas. The gentleness of his strokes stunned you, but not as much as the tiny orb of black resting right where your heart lied.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Yet the most disturbing aspect of the image was the tightly clenched fist in the foreground, ebony lines running from knuckle to wrist. V’s hand, without a doubt. There, his technique shifted to an almost surreal level of intentional distortion. No other word suited the twisted lines or the overly bony fingers.

Is this from the night he had that episode? Did he see me and Kotomi leaving? How? He should’ve been restrained still!

You pursed your lips and unhooked the canvas, laying it on the counter to dry. There was no doubt it was you, the pattern of the shirt matched what you wore that day.

Is it possible that’s what triggered his episode? But why? Why would that make him angry?

You told yourself he envied your freedom, but the thought rang with falseness. The truth was there, plain for all to see in his work if they only knew what to look for. Why else would he paint you and Kotomi so differently?

Yet you refused to allow the words to form in your head.

Denial had its uses.

Over the next few days, you tried to keep from thinking about the painting. It was in the system and out of your control, only time would tell what consequences waited for you, if any. There was nothing to gain from thinking on it further.

Despite your best efforts, it snuck its way into your mind more than once. how could it not? It was stunning work.

In your daily private sessions, the artist created new pieces to add to his growing file. Scenes of carnage and mayhem, death and disaster. Each featured himself or Griffon, but never any others. No new details. Relief at not finding yourself his subject again mixed with disappointment at the lack of new information with every scanned image.

Today was no exception.

The page in your hands displayed the man himself swimming in red with an angelic smile. You sighed as the door to your office clicked shut as Kevin took V back to his quarters yet again. If the man just talked, this would be so much easier, but he refused to answer any questions about his past.

Maybe he’s not as interesting as I thought…

You pursed your lips. It was too early to jump to conclusions. He needed more time to develop trust, that’s all. You just had to be patient.

A harsh ping broke your reverie as an email notification lit your screen. The sender marked it as top priority and you clicked on the tab; maybe this could keep you busy for a while. A new patient? Changes to protocol?

Oh, no… it’s from Malphas.

He knows! Shit!

It was foolish to imagine he wouldn’t notice. What were you thinking, allowing it to get this far? Honestly, the man wasn’t even that interesting. He certainly wasn’t worth your career, not after so many years in medical school. Plus, you still owed thousands of dollars in student loans. You couldn’t afford to be set back, too much was at stake.

Calm down! Think it through, come on!

Your heartbeat raced as you read the message again, just to be sure. It wouldn’t do to overreact.

Do I need to be concerned about the nature of your relationship with your patient?

It was phrased as a question. All Malphas had was the painting, he probably didn’t have a clue about the rest. You’d been careful, nobody except you and V knew about the other sketches or the incident before the first group session. By the time Kevin entered the room, the artist was fully covered and the orderly was the least observant person you’d ever known.

It wasn’t too late.

Your fingers flew across the keyboard, typing a suitable response in moments. Everything rode on how well you covered your ass today; a single wrong word and you were done for.

Absolutely not. The patient is developing an attachment to me, but I assure you I remain nothing but professional. I will not allow the patient’s stance to interfere with treatment.

A sour taste filled your mouth. The lies kept getting worse, but what else could you do? Besides, he was making progress. It was worth it to restore him, right?

It had to be.

You waited a few minutes to hit send; it might be suspicious if you replied more quickly than usual. What a mess, to even need to consider such a ridiculous deception.

Well, at least I’m not bored.

A snort split your pursed lips and you leaned back in your chair. The first pulses of a tension headache brought your hands to your temples, rubbing away the pain. The last one was years ago, back in med school.

In a way, you enjoyed it. The pain and panic shattered the torturous disinterest you normally felt. Not the most pleasant shift, but a shift nonetheless. You’d take what you could get.

Another ding signaled a response. Your eyes fluttered open to read.

I thought so, but I had to ask. It’s protocol, after all. If it becomes an issue I can assign the patient to a different doctor, but until then keep up the good work!

The pain vanished and the void of disinterest returned, the danger now resolved. You released a deep grown of frustration and tried to reignite the embers of strife, but it was too late.

---V---

The artist swallowed the now familiar capsule with a grimace. What a joke, to think a mere few milligrams could transform him into a mindless sheep. There was no caging the wolf within, not now.

Not ever again.

All he needed to do was escape, then his masterpiece could finally be completed. The thought flooded his senses with delight, joy so profound a bark of laughter spilled from his lips.

Soon…

By his count, a full week had passed since his first group session. Any minute now, Kevin would collect him for round two and he’d finally get to test his theory. If all went smoothly, he might be free by the end of the day.

Only if the circumstances align. Don’t let your impatience ruin everything.

“Yes, Vergil. Any mistakes and all is lost.”

Do not fail me.

He swallowed at the threatening tone in the man’s voice. The consequences of falling short were dire, he knew that. The restraints would return and he’d likely be barred from future group sessions. He may never leave his small quarters again. Never be allowed to touch a paintbrush again.

Unacceptable.

So, he needed to be cautious. Meticulous in his planning. Flawless in execution and creative when something inevitably went wrong. Even the finest plans fell apart at first contact with the enemy, after all. Haste would spell his doom.

Familiar shuffling steps heralded Kevin’s arrival and V smirked, stepping to the door to meet him with arms held at the ready for the ever-present cuffs.

“Hello, Kevin. How’s your family?”

Over the last several days, he made it a point to gain the orderlies trust. It wasn’t hard, considering how straightforward he was. A question here, a comment there…

“Doing good! Sarah starts kindergarten next week, we’re taking her out to celebrate this weekend.”

The metal clicked into place and the artist followed the other man to the security gate. “Wonderful! I imagine she’s excited.”

Kevin chuckled as the guard buzzed them past, barely paying attention to his surroundings. Throughout the elevator ride and the short walk to the group room, V chatted about meaningless drivel as if nothing else mattered. He was grateful the journey didn’t take long, otherwise he might’ve lost his patience and choked the fool.

And then there you were, smiling as you spotted him.

His progress with you was much slower. It needed to be, considering how much he planned to ask of you. If he rushed the process, you wouldn’t survive. After all his careful conditioning this far, the idea alone set his teeth on edge.

“Hi, V. Kevin. Come on in,” you said.

“Hello, Dr. Waras. Are we the first again?” he replied.

You nodded and gestured at the trio of easels, as if he needed encouragement. Enough pleasantries.

The itch returned to his fingers as Kevin brought over an assortment of supplies. Plain white canvas begged for his touch, the surface naked without his work. Lightness spread through his chest and his breath hitched, mind already racing with ideas.

Ken and Kelly arrived moments later, taking the same spots as last week. The round woman looked as bleak as ever, unwashed and lethargic. Her eyes didn’t meet his once as she sat and waited for her supplies. Truly, a waste of space if ever he saw one. He turned to Ken instead.

“Hello, Ken.”

He met the man’s eyes with a slight smile, forcing his face to display honesty and welcome. Even with only an hour of experience around him, V knew Ken didn’t trust easily. Subtlety was his only hope of success.

“Now that everyone’s here, let’s get started. Today I want you to paint the first thing you think of when I say the word ‘flight’.”

Quite a different prompt from last week.

No kidding. She’s playin’ it safe, Van Gogh.

He ignored them, still focused on Ken. The man stared at him like an alien, struggling to respond. After an uncomfortably long pause, he ever so slowly nodded in greeting. It would do, for now.

V turned back to his canvas. Flight.

Vergil and Griffon were right, loathe as he was to admit it. The word ‘flight’ brought several ideas to mind, most of which were beneath him to bother with. Yet each idea lacked risk or daring, despite man’s natural position on the ground. Last week’s painting must have left a lasting impression, indeed.

In that case, he needed to be conservative. Too much at once and he’d lose you.  No matter how strong the temptation, his resistance now meant greater pleasures in the future.

The first stroke of pale sapphire purged every thought from his mind. The second, and a shiver of delight raced up his spine. With the third came goosebumps, and the fourth stole the air from his lungs. He marveled at the myriad of sensations, reveling in how no matter how many times he painted, it always brought the same euphoria.

“Kelly, do you need help?” you asked after ten minutes.

V huffed in frustration at the rude destruction of his trance-like state. If the woman was so hopeless as to need help, she shouldn’t be there. Even a child could paint a bird. How you sounded so understanding, he didn’t know. He listened with half his attention as he continued his work, switching brushes to begin outlining the details.

“I can’t think of anything…”

A soft hum and the rustle of fabric. “Well, let’s start with things that fly. Planes, insects, maybe birds?”

“I don’t like birds.”

The artist tuned out the conversation. There was nothing to gain from listening further, besides annoyance at the woman’s stupidity. He already had plenty of that. Perhaps it was a good time to work on Ken? The three orderlies looked like they weren’t paying a speck of attention, this was as unsupervised as he was likely to get.

He leaned a few inches closer and licked his lips. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Ken blinked like an owl, his hand frozen in midair several inches from the waiting canvas. “What?”

“I’ll tell you why I’m stuck here if you’ll do the same.”

A pause. V hummed and added several feathers to the wings, dabbing globs of yellow between to represent the melting glue. Ah, Icarus. The first child lost to naive dreams and foolishness.

Well, probably not the first.

“You go first,” Ken replied at last.

V knew his options. Lying would get him nowhere, the man could ask anyone on staff and no doubt they’d tell his story. Any trust between them would be irrevocably damaged. All he could do was frame the truth in a favorable light, or at least try.

“I murdered three people.”

A startled squeak slipped from Ken’s tightened lips. His eyes were comically wide, nostrils flaring. “Why?”

V glanced again at the orderlies, finding them a few feet back with drooping lids. Nothing to be concerned about. “To awaken humanity to the truth. None are safe from the folly of innocence.”

A moment passed in silence, the quiet sound of horsehair on canvas the only soundtrack to the scene. V glanced at Ken every so often, timing his next words with the moment his face began to relax from his instinctual terror.

“Why are you here? What nonsense do they tell you is wrong with you?”

“They… they say I’m delusional,” he began, adding a few shaky dollops of color. “But I swear it’s all true.”

The artist smirked. “Hmm. A familiar tune. Any who are blind to the truth refuse to even admit its possible existence.”

When he next looked toward Ken, the man was gaping at him. Fear still flickered in his shining eyes, but a hint of relief teased at the edges. Perhaps no one believed him before, how perfect. A better opening, he couldn’t imagine.

“Care to share?” he asked with an intrigued expression.

He listened in stoic and attentive silence as Ken spouted off theory after theory, gathering steam as he continued. The man seemed capable of believing anything, from potential coups to life on Mars and everything in between. He may be far more useful than he’d initially imagined. If he were to take advantage, all he needed to do was suggest a conspiracy. Child’s play.

V checked the others in the room. You were still locked in a discussion with Kelly. The woman had yet to even open a container of paint. The orderlies stood at least six feet back, only still vertical because they locked their knees. Fools.

When Ken at last fell silent, V gestured towards you and Kelly with a dismissive flick of his brush. “Look at how she fawns, it’s absurd.”

The man glanced his way and shrugged, his hand still adding blue to form a skyline. Why wait? Might as well get started now.

“Considering the state Kelly's in, the assignment seems like torture. Do you think she might be trying to provoke further depths of pain from the poor woman?”

Another distracted glance, but the first hints of concern appeared. “Who, Dr. Waras?”

“Yes, she seems manipulative, don’t you think?”

Ken’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. His brows furrowed in thought and a frown twisted his lips. Perfect, it was working. Now, to drive it home.

“I’d hate to be the target of her scheming. Who knows what she has planned?”

The man closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, his unsteady hand leaving a jagged line on his simplistic work.

“Perhaps this place is meant to destroy us. They say they’re trying to heal us, but have you gotten any better? I haven’t.”

Ken whimpered and V struggled to keep the smirk at bay.

“If only there was a way to escape…”

The artist lowered his eyes, his shoulders dipping as if in resignation as he turned back to his own canvas. He heard every harsh breath the man took, every squirm as he battled at his suggestions. In time, he would succumb. He lacked the will power to do anything else.

[fuanteinasekai]

Okay, so!  I am super busy right now, but this thing has been 90% done for ages, so I’ll go ahead and finish it now.

I mentioned in one of my metas that there’s a really big (non-spoilery) set of parallels several years ago. These parallels exist between Kitamoto’s flashback special in Volume 13, and Touko-san’s flashback special in Volume 15.

Please note that technically Touko-san’s story was published after Kitamoto’s, but chronologically, in story time, it’s earlier. Since it’s talking about emotional development, it makes more sense for me to talk about it in story time, rather than publishing time. So understand “before” and “after” in this context.

The top is a two-page spread from Touko-san’s story. The bottom is from Kitamoto’s.

I’ve selected the most relevant part of the text for transcription and translation, and bolded the parts that are most similar:

Touko

ーまるでからっぽのような　心がここにないような　ひどく遠くを見るような目を貴志くんは時々する

その目に私達はどんな風にうつっているんだろう　ーいつか　打ちとけてくれるかしら　やりたいことやわがままをー　それはまるで家族のようにいつか

Kitamoto and Nishimura

ーだから…打ちとけてきたけど時々心ここにあらずというか遠くを見るような目になるよな

そうかあ？

…そうきっぱり言われるとお前がニブすぎなのか　おれが考えすぎなのか　判断しかねるんだよなあ

まあ　夏目は都会から来てるから　いつかはこんな田舎出ていこうとは思ってるかもな

ーこんな田舎…か…

あの遠い目は

そういうことか

Touko:

—Sometimes Takashi-kun has eyes that look as if they were empty, like his heart’s not here, like he’s looking terribly far away. How are we reflected in those eyes? —I wonder if he will open up to us, someday. Doing what he wants, being self-indulgent— 

[Over panel “introducing” Sensei] Someday acting like family like that…

Kitamoto and Nishimura:

Kitamoto:—So… he’s opening up, but sometimes he has eyes like his mind is elsewhere [lit. ‘without his heart being here’], or rather, like he’s looking far away.

Nishimura: Oh, yeah?

Kitamoto: …You say that so flatly, I can’t decide if you’re too dense or I’m overthinking it.

Nishimura: Well, Natsume’s from the city, so he’s probably thinking about how he wants to get away from a backwater like this, someday.

Kitamoto: —A backwater like this… huh?

Kitamoto: Those faraway eyes,

Kitamoto: [Over panel “introducing” Tanuma] is that what they mean?

[NB Kitamoto’s very last line is actually on the next page, which I didn’t scan.] 

Now, things are rearranged a little and sometimes conjugated differently, but there are enough visual similarities and enough similarities in language use that this is an absolutely, 110% undeniable parallel. The bold parts are basically slightly altered variations on the same thing. You’ll note that Kitamoto changes one thing in a significant way: instead of “I wonder if he’ll open up to us” he says “he’s opening up.” I’ll get to that later, but first I want to talk about the wording a little.

There’s an interesting, extremely-lost-in-translation bit here. I’ve preserved it by adding in the literal translation in brackets, but you can’t do that in normal, non-annotated translations. Basically, Kitamoto uses the phrase “without his heart being here” which is a set expression similar to the English “there in body, not in spirit.” The Japanese word for “heart” is similar to the English in its metaphorical uses, but overlaps more with “mind.” So “without his heart being here” suggests that his mind is elsewhere, that he’s preoccupied with something else and not really aware of what he’s doing or where he is at that moment (which in this case is “hanging out with Nishimura and Kitamoto”).

Touko-san, on the other hand, has altered this phrase a bit. Since it’s no longer in the same form as the set phrase, it comes across a bit more literal: he looks as if his heart, his spirit, has left his body, as if his body were “empty.” It feels stronger, reminiscent of outright dissociation instead of being merely distant and distracted. At the same time, her wording alludes to the familiar phrase and would be recognizably related. 

Second, “self-indulgent” is my translation of わがまま here. わがまま semi-literally means “one’s own way” with an implication that one is thinking purely of oneself, with no regard for others. For this reason, it often translates as “selfish” or “self-centered.” However, in this context Touko-san is clearly referring to having a level of trust and comfort, such that Natsume can express his desires openly without feeling like he has to defer to the desires of others or justify himself. So I thought the less negative “self-indulgent” was a better fit.

Third, I translated Kitamoto’s “Is that what they mean?” semi-literally because it was the only way to link it to the previous “faraway eyes” phrase in English. However, this そういうことか is a set expression in Japanese, similar to “I see.” It’s not so much that Kitamoto is questioning Nishimura’s explanation, as that he has tentatively accepted it because he can’t think of anything else (yet).

So I thought about why these parallels exist, and there are a few options. One is that it’s meant to compare Kitamoto and Touko-san. This is possible, but the ways in which they are similar (being stable sources of support and normality) are too obvious to require such a distinct parallel. Further, in this usage the parallel excludes Nishimura and Shigeru-san, which makes no sense. 

The second possibility is that it’s meant to compare Tanuma and Sensei. This isn’t entirely unlikely—I wrote in my notes a long time ago that they were both “buffers” in the sense of easing Natsume’s interaction with the world. Sensei makes it easier for Natsume to interact with yōkai, and process his yōkai related trauma. Tanuma makes it easier for him to interact with humans, and helps him process his human-related trauma.

But I think the real reason for this set of parallels is to make the implications precise. Because Kitamoto and Touko-san use the same language, we know they’re talking about the same stages of emotional development. Kitamoto changing “will he open up to us?” to “he’s opening up” is key, because it means we’ve moved down the list chronologically, and from Sensei’s role to Tanuma’s. It also reinforces the subtext linking Sensei and Tanuma to their respective roles, because it introduces them using the same “subtextually related dialog in the same panel” technique, like so:

Touko thinks “Someday acting like family like that…” and in the same panel, though chronologically later, she says “Kitty?” (a.k.a Sensei)

Kitamoto thinks “Is that what they mean?” (That is: his eyes are “distant” because he wants to leave the countryside.) and in the same panel, though chronologically later, the teacher says “We have a new transfer student.” (a.k.a. Tanuma)

Since the same technique is used in both parallels, we can be reasonably certain this isn’t a misinterpretation of subtext.

So why do Sensei and Tanuma fulfill these roles? Why does Sensei help Natsume open up, and why does Tanuma make Natsume’s eyes less distant (make his heart “here”)?

I think that in buffering Natsume’s interaction with the yōkai world, Sensei gives him space to breath. Since he no longer has to be in “survival mode” 24/7, he’s able to relax at times and actually properly interact with the people who love and support him. There’s also an argument to be made that Sensei’s selfishness (e.g. his constant demands for snacks) forces Natsume to be a little selfish himself, or at least to ask for things. Hence why Sensei is associated with “opening up” and perhaps softening up his “distant eyes” somewhat.

With Tanuma, there are a lot of suggestions scattered throughout the series that Natsume originally thought of this town as a temporary resting place. That he still planned to live alone eventually, and that he had no intention of forming permanent bonds, no matter how kind the Fujiwaras—or Nishimura and Kitamoto—may be. Mostly because such a thing did not seem feasible to him when he was in constant danger, but also because he had been conditioned to think of his caretakers as glorified, reluctant innkeepers. But when Tanuma comes along, not only does he essentially start demanding emotional growth from Natsume, but he also starts treating Natsume’s continued presence as a forgone conclusion. For example, at the end of the culture fair festival, he tells Natsume that “It’ll surely go better next year.” Judging from Natsume’s reaction, it doesn’t seem to have occurred to him there would be a next year. Finally, of course, there’s Natsume’s attachment to Tanuma, which forces him to grow emotionally so he won’t lose (or hurt) his best friend.

There’s one more interesting little touch here. When Natsume admits he’s facing similar troubles as Kitamoto (who is trapped between his desire to stay with his family, and his need to leave town and go to college so he can control his future), he says “I want to stay here forever.” Instead of something like “this town” or “with the Fujiwaras,” he uses the relatively vague ここ, which is the same “here” in the expression “without his heart being here.” In this way it very subtly reinforces the implication that Tanuma grounded Natsume, and brought his heart back “here.”

As this story was published shortly after “The Other Side of the Glass,” the connection between Tanuma and Natsume’s fear of having to leave is still fresh (to the reader):

—ずっと　怖かったんだ　いつか　こんなことが起きてしまったらと　ひょっとしたら　もうここにいては—

—I have always been afraid. That someday,  if something like this happened, perhaps, staying here any longer—

The “staying here any longer” is an incomplete sentence. It may mean “If I stay here any longer…” or it may be the first half of “I can’t/shouldn’t stay here anymore.”

Compare his dialog with Kitamoto at the end of Kitamoto’s special:

ずっとここにいたいんだ　きっとそれじゃだめなんだけど　もう　どこへもう行きたくないよ　ここが好きなんだ　ずっとここにいたいんだ

I want to stay here forever. I’m sure it’s hopeless but, I don’t want to go anywhere else anymore. I like it here. I want to stay here forever.

Bolded phrases are the same, merely conjugated differently. (“I want to” is handled like a conjugation in Japanese.) “Any longer” and “anymore” are contextual translations of the same word; もう has a lot of related uses, but these two are essentially the same. So there’s clearly a similarity in the way the two stories treat the issue of Natsume wanting to stay.

Ergo, Sensei is family and Tanuma is the anchor to Natsume’s heart. Canonically.

[ichigopanhpff]

BNHA Fic: Blink! Ch. 11

Read Ch. 10 | Masterlist

SPOILER: We sinking our teeth into the meat of the Hassaikai Arc now. This one’s gonna be a long one.

You’ve been warned!

Nighteye’s agency revealed Eri was at their headquarters all along.

Much to the annoyance of some heroes, specifically Rocklock, the tall spectacled man assured they managed to get new information with the investigation; he saw one of the members of the Hassaikai purchase a popular girl’s toy and decided to interact with the man about it. With a touch of his hand on his shoulder, he activated Foresight to track his movement.

Thanks to the effort the stakeout teams and a warrant from the police, it was time to act.

The students suited up quickly and made their way to the enemy’s base early morning. The pro heroes were briefing the police of the current situation while the junior heroes were on stand-by. Blink leaned against the far wall, looking on in silent penance. Lemillion popped up next her, having already memorized the layout of the base.

“You okay?”

“If you’re wondering if I’ll be able to keep my rage in check…” she callously remarked with disinterest.

“I said something unnecessary and took my frustrations out on you,” the tall blond boy lamented and adjusted his left glove. “I’m sorry.”

The short girl let out a short breath from her nose.

“Apology accepted. And I thought you knew me better than that.”

Lemillion let out a short chuckle and rubbed the tip of his nose.

“You’re absolutely right. You are one of the people we’re looking at in taking over the Big Three title, after all,” he lightheartedly remarked.

“Again with that.” She huffed out in disbelief and gave him a look. “There’s better candidates than me.”

“Blink, I’m serious.”

His tone of voice made her look up to meet his determined blue eyes.

“So am I.”

“You’re more than enough. You’re strong,” Lemillion reaffirmed and placed his hand on her right shoulder, feeling the weight of his limb. She closed her eyes and sighed.

“If you say so…”

Blink got off of the wall and suddenly stopped in place.

“When this is over…” she blurted out. “I’ll tell them everything.” Her eyes gestured over to those in 1-A, with Lemillion agreeing in the form of a nod. “They have a right to know.”

He watched her frame slowly move away, proud of how far she’s come from her former self. The timid and insecure girl he once saw was beginning to bloom into a courageous, full-fledged hero.

But she’s still incomplete.

There was one more piece missing in order for him to fully acknowledge her as the one to pass down the title and will of the Big Three to…

With everyone briefed, they were once again reminded by the police if they see any sort of suspicious behavior or resistance, permission was given to deal with it as quickly as they can.

The entrance to the house was quiet; too quiet. It set Blink on edge.

From what she could remember from her personal investigation, the Hassaikai wasn’t a group to get a jump on. In fact, it’s the opposite.

Instinctively, she tapped her bangles together to summon the clubs to put together into a staff and prepared to fight their way in. As the officer prepared to press the doorbell, a giant man wearing a bird’s mask rushed out and knocked two officers up in the air with his fist, screaming, “What do you want?”

Deku and Eraser Head jumped up and caught the flying victims on time.

The giant man charged against the group, asking the same question again. The resolve of the police force could be seen dissipating, some of which blurted out in disbelief they caught wind of their sting operation. Ryuukyuu immediately transformed into her dragon form, catching the man’s fist with one claw.

“The Ryuukyuu Team will deal with this one,” she firmly stated. “Everyone else continue onward.”

“Get in there!” Fat Gum shouted and pushed Red Riot along. Blink had already jumped a few steps ahead.

As the police announced why they were raiding, the grunts prepared to attack. She immediately beamed forward and reappeared behind the three thugs. Swinging her staff across the back of their heads in full force, she effectively knocked them all out in one fell swoop.

“You’re faster than usual,” Suneater complimented as they ran past her.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” she casually boasted and teleported to her senior’s side to run alongside him. “You’re the one who trained me in speed, after all.”

“Go for the objective!” FatGum shouted as they charged toward the main entrance and burst the doors open.

Scanning the narrow hallway, things seemed to be going swimmingly for the raid team.

“I got a bad feelin’ ‘bout this!” Lockrock shouted. “But we can’t go back now.”

“I wonder if they got information leaked somehow…” Suneater wondered aloud.

“I’m with you on that,” Blink added. “This place feels off.”

“By joining the family, you pledge loyalty to those at the top,” Aizawa explained. “The way they see solidarity is the same as it was back then. Even with all the noise we’ve been making, neither Chisaki or any of the higher-ups have yet to appear. They’re most likely hiding underground and preparing to escape.”

“How unmanly of them!” Red Riot angrily shouted. “Having your followers take responsibility for your actions… What the hell kinda “loyalty” is that?!”

The group slowly came to a halt and found a wall with an ikebana vase. Nighteye carefully removed the vase and said, “There’s a mechanism here that opens up a hidden path.” He proceeded to press the wooden floor following a specific sequence.

With the sound of a click, the hidden door revealed itself, revealing three more thugs ready to attack. Bubble Girl immediately jumped into action and punched one of them using her quirk.

“Go on without me! I’ll catch up!” she shouted as the rest of the group filed down the stairs. Turning a corner, they came up at a dead end. As Rocklock and the police officer started complaining about the bad intel, Lemillion phased through the wall, saying he’d go on ahead to check things out. Red Riot and Deku jumped into action and smashed the makeshift wall to bits.

“Damn… not bad,” Rocklock complimented.

Their celebration was cut short as they saw the path beginning to distort into twists and turns.

“This isn’t Chisaki’s… it’s someone else!” the chief panicked. “It’s gotta be Irinaka, one of the directors!”

“ His quirk is called Mimicry, allowing him to control objects from the inside! But... it isn’t supposed to be this powerful,” FatGum analyzed. “Unless he gave himself a boost. He must’ve gained control of the entire basement to turn it into this!”

“This is gonna be troublesome,” Blink uttered out, trying to figure out a way to get past the living wall.

“Eraser, can you cancel it out?” FatGum asked the goggled man.

“Not unless there’s a body...”

“We’ll never get to our target at this rate,” Suneater quivered out, feeling despair sinking into his heart. “How can we think about saving a girl when we can’t even figure out our next move here?!”

“Tamaki!” Lemillion’s voice called out, breaking his train of thought from spiraling down. He managed to phase back to the group. “This isn’t like you. You’re Suneater! We can get through this! This twisting path doesn’t matter as long as we know where the target is. I can make it!”

��Lemillion, wait!” Blink shouted.

“It’s a race against the clock to buy them time,” he deduced as he phased through the wall again and disappeared. “I’ll see you on the other side!”

Suneater, having been affected by Lemillion’s words, immediately changed his stance.

“You heard him loud and clear, right Suneater?” Blink scanned the walls to find a weak point. “Time’s of the essence.”

Before he could respond, the ground below them suddenly caved, sending them down one story. Eraser Head and Blink saw the opening for a brief moment, only to have the chance slip away. The group analyzed their surroundings, finding themselves in a room.

“We’re gettin’ farther away from the target!” Rocklock shouted. “They got us good!”

“Thanks for stating the obvious, genius,” Blink deadpanned and dusted herself off.

“Look who we got here. Government idiots droppin’ from the ceiling,” a voice emerged from the fog at the far end of the room. As it cleared, three people wearing plague masks emerged. As Fat Gum was preparing to fight, Suneater stopped him.

“Your powers are important to the mission. They’re just trying to slow us down...” he firmly stated. “I can take them on myself!”

“What the hell, dude?!” Red Riot complained. “We’ll do this together!”

“I’ll be your back-up,” Blink stated with determination.

One person wearing a small plague mask stared menacingly and agreed.

“More of you to slaughter. Sure. Come at us in a group.”

“Nobody draw your weapons!” the chief announced. “That’s Setsuno!”

“Oh I guess you know ‘bout me! No matter.” Setsuno drew his blade and initiated his attack. “It makes it easier to go crazy on you!”

Eraser Head quickly jumped into the fray, rendering Setsuno’s quirk useless for the time being. The second thug wearing a regular face mask drew his gun, only to be deflected by Fat Gum’s spinning jump attack, followed by Suneater’s octopus tentacles restraining them.

‘Larceny’.. Setsuno. ‘Crystallize’ … Hojo. ‘Food’… Tabe,” the hooded hero listed out. “Your fight’s with me!”

“Suneater, don’t be stupid–” Blink started.

“We stay here any longer, we’re playing into their hands!” he defied. “There’s not a moment to spare! Eraser needs to lead the way and the pro’s quirks need to be conserved. The police have their guns and you already have the power to smash through those changing walls. So go! I can keep these three occupied!”

Feeling the strong sense of resolve from Suneater’s words, the party hesitantly made their way to the door at the far end. It’s not the ideal situation, but it needed to be done.

As they separated, Suneater and Blink thought at the same time: Mirio’s going to take things too far and will need to be saved.

“Fat! Are you sure we should leave Suneater there?!” Red Riot asked out of worry.

“He’s one of yours, so it’s your call,” Rocklock replied. “I think it may be a bad idea.”

“He can do it,” Blink turned to the three and firmly responded. “Don’t underestimate Suneater.”

“He’s more capable than any of us here,” Fat Gum agreed. “He’s just lacks spirit from the pressure he puts on himself. So when he says he’ll deal with it, I believe him.”

Rushing through the corridors, the two U.A. students couldn’t help but worry about Suneater’s fight, to which Fat Gum had to re-instill his trust in his sidekick in them.

“When a guy says he’s got your back, you trust him like a real man!” he shouted.  

“Senpai’s the type of person whose actions speak louder than words,” Blink added. “He wouldn’t want us worrying over nothing.”

“But wait, something’s odd...” Deku looked around. “The walls aren’t shifting around anymore.”

“It must mean he doesn’t have full awareness of the basement if he’s letting us through like this,” Eraser Head concluded and saw the stairs. “The officers are up above and Suneater’s behind us… Maybe our villain’s attention is diverted.”

“So that means his real body’s nearby when he does shift the room,” Blink elaborated. “And he has to stick some part of his body to observe the situation, like his eyes.”

“Something still feels off.” The short green haired boy wiped some sweat from his chin with his gloved hand. “It’s too quiet.”

“You’re not wrong. This area would be the best place for a pincer ambush,” the hooded heroine pointed out.

In almost an instant, the wall immediately moved, separating Eraser Head from the rest of the party. The rolling hero dove right in and grabbed the tail end of his Capture Weapon, swinging him back to safety. Blink saw Fat Gum and Red Riot go through the hole, leaving her with the main group.

“Shit!” she hissed through gritted teeth. “At the rate we’re being separated…”

“They’ll be fine, Blink,” Eraser Head calmly responded. “We have other things to worry about.”

The walls around them were closing in quick. She did what she could with her staff and tried to pry apart two areas of shifting wall, only to have it rebound her weapon.

“Lockrock!” Nighteye called.

“Now you’re acting like a leader from your mismanagement?!” he complained as he activated his quirk, Lockdown. “This way! I’ve locked this side off so it won’t shift anymore.”

As the group slowly shifted down an unknown path, Lockrock was using his ability to its maximum output, part of the living wall lunged out to attack the group. Deku’s kick and Blink’s staff quickly smashed it to pieces. The remaining police force could only stand idly by, unable to do anything but survive.

“If Fat Gum was still here, we coulda made our way through more smoothly!” the locking hero angrily shouted at Eraser Head.

“Less talking, more locking!” Blink shot back and broke through another wall attacking them with Deku.

“We’re getting no where!” the boy panted out in frustration and the walls suddenly opened up. A sudden commotion from above made Eraser Head instinctively react by pulling both students out of harm’s way. In doing so, they were separated from Nighteye, Rocklock and the cops by a wall.

“Hey are you guys okay?!” an officer asked from the other side of the wall, his voice crystal clear.

“The walls aren’t very thick, after all,” Nighteye realized.

Before they could respond, a sudden commotion of scuffling and bodies falling could be heard. Deku immediately acted and kicked the wall down, revealing two Rocklocks.

“An impostor appeared outta nowhere and attacked me!” the locking hero said. “Be careful. There’s new enemies.”

Eraser Head ran up to the other Rocklock and noticed a knife wound from on his hand.

“Midoriya, are you okay over there?”

“Yes, but we’ve gotta hurry—”

Catching onto Eraser’s reaction, all Blink could do was shout, “Deku, get away from him!”

As the fake Rocklock was about to stab Deku, Eraser activated his quirk, nullifying the impostor’s ability and revealed a high school girl with messy pig-tailed buns. He then wrapped his Capturing Weapon around her to restrain her movements.

“Toga Himiko?!” Deku shouted in shock.

“You remembered me!” she shouted with joy. Her lips broke into a deranged wide smile and blushed. “I’m so happy, Deku darling!”

“This is the end for you, Toga Himiko!” Eraser Head shouted, only to be glared at by the girl.

With her free arm, she flipped herself upward by balancing her palm on his weapon and stabbed him on his shoulder before retreating into the living wall from the momentum of her body.

“I’m all right! Don’t come any closer!” he heeded and held onto his wound.

“Who the hell was she?” Blink huffed out and ran up to Eraser to tend to his shoulder wound.

“Toga Himiko… she’s part of the League of Villains,” Deku answered. “Her quirk allows her to turn herself into other people somehow.”

“So our assumptions about the League’s relationship with them were wrong…” Eraser uttered out.

“Pick up the knife,” Eraser instructed. “Toga uses blood somehow with her quirk… And we need to tend to Rocklock’s bleeding.”

“I’m on it,” Blink confirmed and ran to the other hero’s side. Rocklock honestly rubbed her the wrong way, but he’s still a hero nonetheless. She reached into her bag and quickly triaged his wounds.

“Damn…it,” the locking hero coughed out.

“Save your energy. You’re gonna make it worse if you move now.”

“You’re healing me?” He let out with a defeated breath.

“If you rather die, I can stop,” she replied with a straight face while disinfecting the knife wound. He let out a light hiss of pain from the mild burning sensation. Blink held a piece of bandaged gauze on it before wrapping it up with the cloth bandages.

“I know you don’t like me…” Rocklock huffed out.

“You don’t say.”

“But thank you.”

His sudden change in demeanor made Blink freeze, her eyes widened to reflect the reaction. She turned and looked away with pouting lips. 

“Sorry…” she shyly mumbled out. “‘Bout my attitude in the meeting. I was just agitated.”

Rocklock huffed a sigh of relief with a smirk, laying his head back down for a momentary rest. Everything suddenly started shaking around them much more violently than last time.

“Someone’s getting angry,” Blink huffed out, watching rocky debris cascading down the cave and heard an indistinct voice within the walls screaming, “Kill! Kill! Kill!”

“Did you hear that?!” Eraser suddenly shouted, helping Blink with moving Rocklock.

The anger in the voice intensified, with Blink and Deku both immediately locating its source.

“Above us!” Blink shouted as Deku was already mid-action in kicking the ceiling wall, revealing Irinaka with just enough time for Eraser to use his quirk on him. Unable to use his ability now, the man found himself free falling down and turned to his left, screaming “You bastards!” to someone. Deku managed to catch him on time.

“It seems… we’ve been used,” Nighteye calmly said. “But thanks to that, we’re free of the labyrinth.”

While the cops were interrogating Irinaka, Deku and Eraser were concerned about the League of Villains appearance. Rocklock couldn’t stand this.

“Have you forgotten our top priority?!” he angrily shouted. “Leave the League to the cops. We’ve come this far! Think of everyone who’s bought us time to get to this point! Just go!”

The remaining heroes looked at each other and nodded, making their way down the now clear path. Deku stopped in his steps and turned back to Rocklock, shouting, “I’ll save her no matter what, Rocklock!” before rejoining Eraser Head, Nighteye and Blink.

As the group continued to carry out the mission, a sudden dull ache racked Blink’s body, stopping her in her steps. She could hear her heartbeat in her head all of a sudden, her breath jagged.

“Blink, are you okay?!” Deku asked with worry and placed his hand on her back.

She let out a shaky exhale and looked up at the green haired boy with crocodile tears threatening to leak out.

“Lemillion…” she uttered out and looked up with broken eyes. “We have to hurry to where he is.”

[schraubd]

Election 2018: How Did Anti-Semites Do?

A few days ago, Tablet Magazine published a list of eight "antisemites running for Congress". It was a good start, but woefully incomplete -- there are so many more antisemites to choose from! Moreover, it doesn't really properly gradate antisemitism (there's a huge difference between a literal Holocaust Denier and someone who's been in a room with Louis Farrakhan). So while you can read how Tablet's 8 fared here, for a more comprehensive picture this post has you covered. First, the good news: the absolutely, positively, most blatant antisemites generally did not win.

Actual Neo-Nazi Arthur Jones lost to Democratic Rep. Dan Lipinski 73-27 in Illinois' 3rd congressional district. 

Jones' Holocaust-denying compatriot, John Fitzgerald, lost by a similar 72-28 margin in California's 11th district to Democratic Rep. Mark DeSaulnier. 

In state legislative races, the same basically held true:

In North Carolina's 48th state house district, GOP nominee Russell Walker -- who once said Jews "descend from Satan" -- lost to Black Democratic minister Garland Pierce 63-37. 

In Missouri, GOP nominee Steve West (who was disowned by his own kids) fell well short of unseating Democratic State Rep. Jon Carpenter. 

Finally, in California, Maria Estrada's virulent antisemitism didn't stop her from earning an Our Revolution endorsement, but it presumably did her no favors in her D-on-D challenge to State Assembly speaker Anthony Rendon -- she lost 56-44.

The two biggest antisemites to win were both incumbents.

Open White Supremacist Rep. Steve King (R-IA), last seen telling the world that European Neo-Nazi parties would just be plain old Republicans in America, had a much closer than anticipated race against Democrat J.D. Scholten. Still, King prevailed 50-47, thus proving that there is no limit to how racist you can be if there are enough Republicans in your district.  

Meanwhile, in Washington, GOP State Rep. Matt Shea -- who advocated for an American theocracy where non-Christian men are executed -- handily won reelection 58-42. Huzzah.

Now, those guys represent the worst of the worst. Most (not all) were running on the GOP line, and most (not all) lost. But the Tablet list itself evinces a clear antisemitic spectrum, and once you move past the obvious cases the story gets more complex. On Tablet's list were two definite borderline entries, for whom I think it's fair to question if they are properly called antisemitic at all (certainly, they're far further afield than some of the names further down on this list):

The case for including Indiana Rep. Andre Carson (D) appears to boil down to "he's been in a room with Farrakhan and the Iranian president", which isn't exactly on the level of denying the Holocaust. Call me jaded, but this felt very thin to me. Carson's Indiana district is gerrymandered to be reliably blue, and so it was -- Carson took his race 63-37.

Lena Epstein -- the Republican candidate in Michigan's 11th congressional district -- also has fair grounds to question her inclusion. Yes, inviting a Jews for Jesus Rabbi to eulogize the Pittsburgh victims was stupid, and insensitive, and baffling, and did I mention stupid? -- but was it antisemitic? I'm not sure. But we no longer need to expend much effort figuring it out: Epstein was soundly defeated by Democrat Haley Stevens, flipping this open GOP seat blue and I suspect signaling the last we hear of Epstein in national politics.

The next tier of antisemites comprises people who aren't really accused of saying anything antisemitic themselves, but who have endorsed antisemites or antisemitic movements.

On the Democratic side, Rep. Danny Davis (D-IL) is the poster child -- while the past few weeks might have you believe that every Democrat in the country is a Louis Farrakhan fanboy, Davis is one of the few who actually has praised the man (the NOI has a large presence in Davis' Chicago district). Davis' district is one of the bluest in the country, and he took 88% of the vote against nominal Republican opposition.

On the Republican side, Rep. Dana Rohrabacher (R-CA) endorsed a Holocaust denier for school board (and that wasn't even his only connection to the Holocaust denying set). "Putin's favorite Congressman" looks to have gone down in his toss-up race, losing narrowly to Democrat Harley Rouda. 

Also falling into this category (though arguably shading into the class below) is California GOP Rep. Steve Knight, who ran an ad featuring a far-right activist notorious for antisemitic and racist online comments (Knight plead ignorance about the guy's views, but you'd think the t-shirt he was wearing in the ad -- a US flag with "infidel" stamped over it -- would be a giveaway). Knight lost his seat 51-49 to Democrat Katie Hill.

Next, we get to people who have themselves said or done antisemitic things -- albeit perhaps not as vividly as a Steve King sort.

For Republicans, George Soros is the fulcrum. Rep. Matt Gaetz (R-FL), who gave a Holocaust denier a State of the Union ticket and is a major source of Soros-related conspiracy theorizing, works as a good example. He handily won his re-election race 67-33. 

Speaking of Soros, in Minnesota's 1st district, Jim Hagedorn -- who claimed that Joe Lieberman only supported the Iraq War because he was a Jew and who then cut an ad claiming his opponent was "owned" by the Jewish globalist billionaire -- looks like he will squeak out a win over Democrat Dan Feehan. If that result holds, it marks one of the few districts this cycle to flip D-to-R. It also is particularly painful for me because this is the district where my wife grew up and my in-laws still live.

And while Florida gubernatorial candidate Ron DeSantis is more well-known for the racism, he too dipped his toe in the antisemitic Soros conspiracy pool, accusing his African-American opponent, Andrew Gillum, of looking to "seed[] into our state government, you know, Soros-backed activists." DeSantis, a Republican, prevailed over Gillum by about a single point in what had been thought to be a blue-leaning race.

Two more Democratic members of Tablet's list -- Leslie Cockburn and Ilhan Omar -- fit in this category, albeit for comments that are several years or (in Cockburn's case) decades old.

Cockburn wrote a book in the early 90s that was basically a "Israel is responsible for all awful things" screed; she lost her VA-05 race to Republican Denver "bigfoot erotica" Riggelman, because America is awesome and that was really a choice. The margin was 53-47 in a race that was viewed as a decent, if not top-of-the-class, Democratic pickup opportunity.

Omar, running in Minnesota's 5th district, has come under fire for a tweet where she accused Israel of "hypnotizing" the world to prevent it from seeing its "evil". While she has seemingly moderated her views on Israel, she pointedly declined to walk back this comment or recognize how it seems to traffic in antisemitic tropes (in contrast to her 5th district predecessor, Keith Ellison, who pointedly disassociated himself from prior Farrakhan affiliations). Omar won her race by a crushing 78-21 margin.

Finally, it's worth looking at some local races where Republicans (albeit not always the Republican candidate) ran antisemitic ads.

In Alaska, a GOP mailer which showed stacks of cash being stuffed into Democrat Jesse Kiehl's suit didn't seem to work, Kiehl defeated right-leaning independent Don Etheridge 60-37. (Etheridge he disavowed the Republican ad).

In California, Republican Tyler Diep painted his Jewish opponent Josh Lowenthal green, enlarged his nose, and showed him clutching $100 bills; Diep prevailed in his California Assembly race, 54-46. 

Pennsylvania State Rep. Todd Stephens (R) made sure to drop the "Johnson" from the name of Democratic opponent Sara Johnson Rothman when he photoshopped her holding a stack of cash, instead going with "Stop Sara Rothman". Stephens won re-election by a narrow 51-49 margin.

In North Carolina, Republican Rickey Padgett tried to unseat State Senator Mike Woodard (D) by, among other things, posting a picture with Chuck Schumer dressed in a Nazi SS uniform. Woodward prevailed by a 62-36 spread.

Finally, in Connecticut, Democrat Matt Lesser gained national attention when his Republican opponent Ed Charamut sent out a mailer depicting Lesser with wild eyes, a huge nose, and a wad of cash. Lesser prevailed in a tight race, winning 52-48.

What are the takeaways here? Well, for starters, the most virulent and explicit antisemites generally lost. That's good, though given that those candidates generally ran in ideologically lopsided districts it's easy to overdraw from that. The Steve King victory shows that where the partisan lean works in the antisemite's favor, partisan allegiance generally trumps (seriously, does anyone have confidence that if Arthur Jones ran in Steve King's district as the Republican candidate, he would lose?). And if that holds true for to a blatant bigot like King, it certainly applies to more mild or sporadic offenders, like Davis and Omar.

The more interesting -- and troublesome -- story is how less overt but still clear antisemitism played out in more closely contested races. Those who assume that America just doesn't tolerate antisemitism are in for a surprise. Hagedorn's antisemitic past (and present) didn't seem to dent his chances in Minnesota's toss-up first district, for example. This isn't to say that antisemites were universally winning -- more that antisemitism, even when expressed, generally isn't a losing issue either even in the sort of closely contested districts where you might expect candidates to tread more carefully.

Moreover, there's a partisan lean to this that cannot be ignored. Certainly, there are incidents of antisemitism in both Democratic and Republican politics. And because American Jews (and Jewish politicians) are so overwhelmingly liberal, there are far more progressive "targets" for antisemitism than there are conservatives. Still, between Soros conspiracy theorizing and "Jews clutching money" ads, there seemed to be a noticeable step-up in GOP appeals to this sort of antisemitic sentiment that doesn't have a clear parallel among Democrats right now. 

And Republican strategists must have come to a conclusion that these ads work. Yes, maybe they turn off some Jewish or more liberal-leaning voters. But Republican campaign operatives must think they make up for it by revving up the conservative base (or even independents -- for a variety of reasons I strongly suspect that right-leaning independents might be even more susceptible to this sort of appeal). 

There was certainly no systematic punishing effect for Republicans going to this well -- and so we can expect they'll keep doing it. And that is a worrisome conclusion.

via The Debate Link https://ift.tt/2zyyHER

[merigreenleaf]

Unexpected Inspiration Short Story: “Someday They’ll See”

( @elliot-orion encouraged me to write a fluffy story about two of the characters I’ve introduced recently in moodboards. Piquant’s board was this week and Daegal will be next. The two demanded a moodboard to go along with this story so you get that as a bonus. ;) This story takes place at the very start of Concordia’s history, when the small population was in the middle of a war and dealing with imps on the enemy side. Piquant’s trying his hardest to be on the side of the artists, but they’re making everything difficult. There’s a masterpost here of all the short stories from this series.)

—————————————

"This is ridiculous."

Daegal stood at the flat surface he used to create his glowing objects. The sight of him with his hand raised above a familiar crumpled paper made Piquant’s human stomach rumble, just as it did every time the sky grew dark. This time, though, instead of lowering his hand to the page, Daegal remained with it almost tauntingly distant. “Seriously, Peek. This is ridiculous.”

Non-imp people-- humans, they wanted to be called-- used that word to describe things that were funny. There was nothing funny about food! Or, as Daegal called it, "dinner." Presumably it meant the same thing.

When Daegal continued to keep his hand away, Piquant’s stomach made that awful noise again. Was there something wrong with the paper and it would no longer work? It was creased and torn, well-used because there wasn't much of it here in the stone nest. City. The illegible words scrawled over older, faded words hadn't mattered. Daegal couldn't see them and Piquant couldn't read them. They only needed the paper to hold the food, not be the food, so a few rips hadn’t been a problem before.

Oh. Oh. Daegal must have come to his senses. The next words out of his mouth were going to be "we need this weaving. You're fine with what you took yesterday." Or "the other day" or "last week." He'd heard too many variations too many times before Daegal caught one of the denials. His lovely voice turned loud and sharp when he informed the other humans that he'd supply Piquant's food and too bad if they needed his weaving for something else. Then he’d spun around, taken Piquant’s hand, and tugged him out the door. Once back in the room that only the two of them ever entered, he handed Piquant one of the papers from the flat surface-- table-- and told Piquant to eat it.

[More]

Piquant wasn’t stupid. What Daegal wanted from him was obvious, but he also knew that Daegal had spent many days speaking to this paper until it was covered in the squiggles the humans used to cage their words. Daegal had grumbled something about Piquant being worth more than a page of mistakes. Then, in the soft voice he used around Piquant and no one else, asked him again to feed. This continued many days-- Piquant still couldn’t grasp the way humans kept time beyond that-- with Daegal switching to an older paper after the first night. He would touch it every time the sky grew dark, whisper something to it that Piquant couldn't quite make out, and then hand it over once it began to glow. It wasn’t a lot of food, but it was consistent, and if Piquant understood what humans meant by “flavor,” Daegal’s was the tastiest. It was warm in a way he couldn’t describe, sort of like the feeling of Daegal’s hand in his whenever someone muttered words like “pest” or “blight” when they thought he couldn't hear.

But Daegal must have changed his mind. That “something else” he’d mentioned to the other humans must be more important to him now, too. Piquant couldn't blame him. He would miss this good food, but he could go back to sneaking little feedings here and there like he had before the humans agreed to give him some of the glowing objects they created. Maybe he'd get lucky and there'd be some forgotten ones stashed in a corner somewhere and he could--

"Why am I putting my weaving into this and handing it to you when I could just give you the weaving?"

It was worse than he'd thought! He definitely couldn't let Daegal do that. He bit his lip as he tried to think of an answer and tasted wetness that was all too familiar. He'd nicked his lip with his tooth. Again. Most of him was human enough, but not his teeth. He wiped at his mouth with his shirt sleeve, knowing it would leave those awful dark spots in the fabric. He didn’t like those spots. They didn’t wash out and humans didn’t get spots on their clothes. Their teeth were flat.

Daegal held his arm out until he reached the pushed-together pile of boxes where Piquant sat. He'd promised to get a couch-- whatever a couch was-- soon, but there was too much going on and furniture wasn't at the top of anyone’s list. Whatever furniture was. A better box to sit on, maybe. After he sat, he found Piquant's hand. As much as Piquant normally enjoyed its warmth, this time it might mean that Daegal was going to make him feed from him. He couldn't risk a touch, so he reluctantly pulled his hand away.

To Piquant's relief, Daegal put his hands in his lap instead of touching him again. "I don't get it. I know you don't want to take your food directly from artists anymore, but how is that any different from taking it after I put it inside something else? It's still mine."

It was a big difference. Because taking it by touching Daegal would make Piquant no different from the other imps who fed whenever they were hungry, with no regard for the human who was the source of their food. Because at least if it was inside an object, the human who had created it wouldn't miss it as much. Because he didn't want everyone thinking he was falling back on instinct because then they'd never trust him. If they didn’t trust him, he couldn’t help them.

When he didn't answer, Daegal spoke again in that low voice. "I just want you to be okay. You know I wouldn't mind if you took it from me. Wouldn't doing that make you stronger like the other imps?"

It would. He couldn't get a lot of... of energy by not taking it directly. But if he fed indirectly, if he just took a little from something the human made, no one got hurt. That was why the other imps were such a threat. One touch to any of the glowing humans-- artists-- and that human wouldn't be able to make or do anything with their glows-- their weaving-- for days. To make it even worse, the imp who fed from them would temporarily be able to use the weaving or bring it to the person who had sent them against the artists. This was the humans' greatest enemy, much more so than the imps, but the imps were a persistent part of the problem.

Daegal knew all this. Piquant had told him everything about imps that the humans hadn't worked out on their own. Sure enough, he nodded when Piquant couldn't bring himself to talk about this again.

"Can I?" Daegal held out his hand. When Piquant didn't take it, he added. "Not to give you food. I promise. I just... I want to be here with you, okay?"

That was okay. Focusing really hard on Daegal being a friend and not dinner-- it was so difficult when he was this hungry!-- Piquant took his hand. Daegal locked their fingers together, ignoring the scratches. He never seemed to mind that Piquant had claws where he had short, dull nails. But that was just the thing. The other humans did.

If Piquant took what Daegal offered, he could look like the other imps. They were all entirely human, at least to human eyes. This was how they kept sneaking up on the glowing humans and feeding from them. The humans couldn't tell who was human and who wasn't. Feeding from Daegal would most likely take away his remaining imp parts and leave him looking fully human, as well. While the humans would know who he was and that he was an imp, they might treat him better without these constant reminders. Maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to shoo him away. Other than Daegal, the only people who ever wanted to talk to him were the non-artist humans, the ones without the glows. Even then, though, they usually just asked about his face and how he managed to grow a plant. He let them think this because it was easier than trying to explain that he once had skin resembling the mushroom colony of his birth-nest. The marks on his face were what was left of that imitation. He wasn’t growing anything except gradually annoyed.

He covered his face with his hands in a move that was becoming habit and closed his eyes. He could change all this. The claws, the teeth, the face, and whatever else he might not have noticed because the reflective things humans hung everywhere frightened him. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Daegal brushed his fingers over his cheek just below his hand. In that same, soft voice, he said, "You're thinking so hard I can feel a headache coming on. Please tell me what's going through your head. Can I help?"

Piquant's mouth twitched. He had to be the first imp in the history of his kind to be accused of thinking too much. "I would be strong. Yes. But do not wish harm. To you. Anyone. But you most. And I would human... be human. Not be imp. And if not imp, they allow to help." 

No, that wasn't right, either. It was still so hard to put his thoughts into words! That would be another benefit if he fed from Daegal. Any imp who fed from humans directly picked up the language much faster than the pieces Piquant got from his object-food. He could think circles around the other imps, but he couldn't out-human them. 

"No. I am imp. Imp I would stay. This would not stay." He tapped the side of his face. Daegal couldn't see it, but with his hand on Piquant's cheek, he could feel it. 

Despite Piquant's frustratingly incomplete words, Daegal understood. His arms wrapped around Piquant and pulled him closer. "Oh, Peek. Listen. Someday they’ll see how wonderful you are. Like I do. It’s up to you if you want to change how you look. It’s up to you how you want to feed.”

That was no help at all. Piquant still didn’t know what to do. It was hard to learn to be human when he was beginning to suspect that he also wasn’t very good at being an imp.

Daegal placed his hands on either side of Piquant’s face, his thumb brushing the lingering cap of a small faux mushroom. When he rested his forehead against Piquant’s, all of Piquant’s racing thoughts ground to a halt. “You’re you and that’s all that matters. If they’re too stubborn and small-minded to realize that you’re nothing like they think you are, that’s on them, not on you. We’ll find a way to get through to them. Together.”

This was a nice promise and it made Piquant feel warm inside, like when he fed from Daegal’s paper, but he found that he didn’t want to think about rude humans for a while. Not when Daegal was this close and speaking to him in that sweet tone. There was something he’d seen humans do together when they were close like this and he wanted to try it out. First he had to make sure Daegal wouldn’t mind. He leaned forward to press his lips against his friend’s as fast as he could, then pulled back to make sure this wasn’t the wrong thing to do. Sometimes humans didn’t like this.

Daegal’s face was split by that wide, tooth-baring expression humans made when they were happy. Piquant found himself doing the same. Showing his teeth didn’t matter here, and not because Daegal couldn’t see them. Daegal didn’t have to when he was running his fingertips over Piquant’s lip. It seemed his teeth didn’t bother Daegal any more than the claws or mushroom did.

For the first time since Piquant had met him, Daegal was without words. He continued to smile, so Piquant kissed him again. And then again. Then a few more times since it seemed to be going over so well.

Finally Daegal pulled away and found his words, but not before stumbling over the first few. "Whatever possessed you to do that should possess you more often. But later. You need dinner first. How do you want to do this?"

Piquant caught himself before biting his lip again. If this was going to continue, Daegal probably wouldn’t appreciate him cutting up his own mouth. And that’s what gave him his answer. If Daegal truly didn’t mind that he was an imp, if he went so far into not minding that he liked kissing him, that meant there had to be other glowing humans who also wouldn't care what he was. Although hopefully without the kisses because he didn’t want to share those with anyone else. 

The open-minded humans, the artists who would accept him, those were the ones they had to find. He knew the answer now. “The paper.”

-----------------------------------

(Part of the moodboard is a secret to Piquant. Every day Daegal whispers to record the words “I love you” on the paper he gives Piquant because he knows Piquant can’t read the text and he didn’t set the magic to play back his voice as a recording. Piquant can sense the warm feeling when he feeds from the magic, though, and that’s what makes it taste so good. And if you’re wondering why the artists are so iffy about Piquant, it’s because imps have been plaguing them as pests for generations upon generations. They’re not used to an imp not being a problem.)

[notimetoblog]

Falling

Summary: A broken bone could not lead to anything good, right? Well, maybe Dr. Barnes could change your mind. 

A/N: Hi! You guys have been too kind on my last few one-shots! It warms my heart every time I get a notification. This is my entry for @sgtjbuccky 3k challenge. A huge congrats to her. She’s incredibly talented and I just cant say that enough! I chose the DoctorAU! prompt from her list of prompts. I was really excited to write this one, so I hope you enjoy it (its a little long and probably medically inaccurate lol I just couldnt stop) .  Thank you so much for reading!

“Son of a—” you shouted. 

I bet you can’t skate past that tree, your friend, Pete, had said during one of your constant banters. You had been taking a stroll in a nearby park trying to catch-up after very busy weeks, but his words made you stop suddenly. You felt your competitive side bubble up leading you to rip his skateboard out of his hand convincing yourself that you could prove him wrong. How hard could skateboarding even be? You just pushed yourself with one foot, and then, well you weren’t sure what came after, but it couldn’t be that hard if your smug friend could do it. And that tree wasn’t even that far away. So, you hopped on the skateboard and barely made it past 4 feet when you toppled off it.

“Y/N! Hey, are you ok?” Pete came rushing to your side. Worry very evident on his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just landed a little funny, is all,” you said, speaking through very sharp pain coming from your right leg. “That was all part of the plan, you know,” you added hoping he couldn’t hear your voice wavering.

You just knew that if you went to get up, your leg wouldn’t support your weight, but you were not about to let him know something had definitely happened to it. Pete wasn’t exactly known for being the best in tense situations.

“Shit, Y/N! I think you broke your leg! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. That was a stupid thing to say, I shouldn’t have made that bet.”

“Oh quiet,” you replied with an almost sob as he picked you up and sat you down in a nearby bench. “My leg is not broken. I told you, I just landed funny.”

“No, no, you didn’t just land funny. I really think your leg is broken. Come on I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“The hospital?! Oh please! You’re making this out to be more than it is! Give it a minute and I promise I’ll feel better. Then I can show you my Tony Hawk skills.”

Why wasn’t the pain going away?! Hadn’t it heard you? PETE WAS NOT GOOD IN TENSE SITUATIONS!

“I think that’s just the shock talking,” he said picking you up once more being careful not to move your leg more than necessary. “Let’s get a professional opinion first, and then, if everything really is fine, I’ll put some bubble wrap and padding around you and maybe teach you how to skate before I let you loose again.”

You rolled your eyes at that. You had never once broken a bone on your body. Yes, there was an enormous amount of pain shooting up from your leg that you were trying your best to ignore for Pete’s sake (hehe), but if you had to break a bone once in your lifetime it would be because you had been bouncing off walls after mastering parkour, or after a tragic run of a gymnastics floor routine at the Olympics, not from falling off a skateboard after a dumb bet with your friend!

After setting you down in the passenger seat of his car, Pete rounded the front of the vehicle and opened up his door.

He looked over at you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault.”

Still not accepting your reality, in order to keep your friend calm of course, you repeated to him that your leg was not broken and that he was making this a bigger deal than it really was.  

He was not at all convinced, so he pulled out of the parking spot and drove to the nearest hospital.

After arriving at the emergency room of the hospital, a very friendly nurse offered you a wheel chair, noting that Pete was still carrying you around.

“This is just embarrassing, Pete,” you said as you tried to hide your face as he maneuvered you around the waiting area.

“Oh hush, a broken leg isn’t even an embarrassing injury, Y/N. Knowing you, you are lucky you haven’t been in here for something actually embarrassing.”

“My leg is not broken. If anything, I just sprained something,” you responded, knowing that he could most likely see through your weak attempt at convincing him you were fine.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” a voice said. Well that was fast, you thought. Weren’t emergency rooms notorious for the endless amount of waiting people had to do?

Pete wheeled you past the nurse that had called your name and followed her to an examination room at the end of the hall.

“Ok, so what happened?” she asked.

You noticed the ID that hung from her blue scrubs, identifying her as Mary Escobedo.

You explained to Nurse Escobedo what had happened, making sure to sprinkle “My leg is not broken, though,” at least five times throughout your explanation, even though the constant pain in your leg was making it more than obvious that it most likely was. But poor Pete, yeah your denial was for him, would probably faint if they confirmed what you had been fearing.

The nurse began to laugh a little giving a little shake of her head.

“She’s not very good with these kinds of things,” Pete said. “Always turns her back on stressful situations thinking it will make them go away.”

Ok, so maybe it was really you who couldn’t deal very well with stress. But for goodness sake your leg could not be broken!

“We’ll let the doctor decide then,” Nurse Escobedo said with a smile. “He should be in here shortly to take a look. Meanwhile, I’ll give you a little something to help with the pain.”

After administering the pain medication, she left, and you turned to Pete who still sported his worried look. He began to apologize once more, but the sound of the door opening didn’t let him finish.

You had begun to feel the pain medications working and my god, were they so good that it was making you see actual angels? Because whoever was walking in your room certainly fit the bill.

“Damn,” you whispered to Pete who couldn’t hold back his laugh.

“Ms. Y/L/N?” the literal-angel asked.

“Yes,” you replied knowing very well he could’ve said any other last name and you would’ve responded the same way just to get him to stay. “I’m Dr. Barnes, and Nurse Escobedo shared some of what happened, I’ll take a look at your leg to see what the best way to approach it is.”

“No need,” you interjected waving your hand in front of you. “My leg is fine. Doesn’t even hurt.”

Dr. Barnes laughed, “I’m sure the pain meds Nurse Escobedo gave you have nothing to do with that.”

His smile. Pain meds, schpain scdmeds. That smile could make whatever was wrong with your leg go away, you know, if there even was anything wrong with your leg.

“I’ll order some x-rays to decide what type of fracture your leg is suffering from. After that we can better decide what will help your leg heal the best.”

“Thank you for the offer, doc,” you said as you felt your body completely relax at the soothing feeling the meds were bringing. “But, I’m fine, no need for x-rays.”

“Y/N,” Pete whispered, chastising you.

“Yeah?” Dr. Barnes said with a smile. “Well humor me, and then if you’re right I’ll let you two go on with your skateboarding practice. Deal?”

“Fine,” you replied nonchalantly. “But apart from letting me continue pursuing my skateboarding career, you also have to give me an honorary title of Doctor if I’m right, since I can diagnose myself better than you can.”

You heard Dr. Barnes laugh and another chastising whisper of your name from Pete.

Dr. Barnes began wheeling you out of the room and you almost missed his “Those meds are really something” whisper to Pete.

After getting your x-ray, you found yourself back in the examination room with Dr. Barnes and Pete.

“So, it looks like we got an incomplete fracture, here. Your leg is broken but, fortunately the fracture hasn’t fully broken the bone in two. I’m very sorry but your skateboarding career will have to wait a bit,” he said with a charming smile. “And if you want that Doctor title, you’ll have to earn it the traditional way.”

So, you wouldn’t get to make reservations under Doctor Y/L/N. But you would be just as happy making them under Doctor and Missus Barnes, you thought. That man was gorgeous!

“Since we got a fracture, we have to make sure your leg is immobilized to give it time to heal. This means a cast for a few weeks. Also crutches to keep your weight off it.”

“You sure, its broken? I mean it doesn’t look broken,” you said, giving it one last shot because god knows you would probably be miserable with a cast.

“Well, the fracture didn’t cause any rupture to the skin. So, the typical gruesome leg break we usually think about, isn’t visible here. But the x-rays don’t lie, doc.” He said with a laugh that made you melt.

Christ, this doctor was charming. Sure, you may be hyped up on pain meds but one look at Pete convinced you the charm radiating off Dr. Barnes wasn’t all in your head. Pete had the same grin you were sure was plastered on your face.

“So definitely no X Games for me?” you said hoping he could just keep talking to you forever.

He couldn’t hold back his snort.

“Maybe next year,” he said.

---

A couple of weeks after your original examination with Dr. Barnes you were on your way back to the hospital for a check-up. You had been struggling with the cast and crutches, but you knew you shouldn’t complain. It could’ve been much worse or more humiliating like Pete had mentioned.

Pete had told you all about the way you had spoken to Dr. Barnes and you had begged him to stop not being able to deal with the intense blush that rose to your cheeks. You couldn’t believe you had babbled on like that to a doctor! My god, you had told him you could do his job better than him!

But still, part of you wanted him to be the doctor providing the check-up, because if he was as gorgeous as those meds had made him seem, then you were in for a treat. Another part of you, though, wished it could be a different doctor just so you wouldn’t be reminded of all the things you had said that day.

You sat again in a similar examination room chatting with Pete, who was just as excited to see who the doctor would be. If he hadn’t sworn off betting with you after you had broken your leg, he would’ve definitely wagered at least $20 on Dr. Barnes being your doctor again.  Your conversation with him, though, stopped suddenly as you heard the door open.

“Well, hello again colleague,” Dr. Barnes greeted you as he walked, no strutted, into the room.

My god, those meds hadn’t clouded your mind as much as you had thought. The man was completely gorgeous in his white coat. Everything about him was completely unfair. From his crystal clear blue eyes, to his chocolate colored hair, and how could you look past those toned arms, practically bulging out of his sleeve! How could anybody let him treat patients when he was probably causing many of them heart problems with just one look at him.

“Hi,” you said softly. Being pain meds free, meant you weren’t as confident as you had been, so you would definitely not be sharing your thoughts as freely as before. You heard Pete chuckle behind you. That jerk probably knew why you were being so quiet.

“How has the simple life treated you? I know you were devastated I couldn’t let you go through pursuing your passion.”

Could the floor open up and eat you up like right now? You would miss looking at Dr. Barnes but, come on, you would probably see him every night in your dreams, so you would be ok.

“Sorry about that,” you said looking down. “Nurse Escobedo gave me the good stuff.”

He laughed his gorgeous laugh.

“No worries,” he said. “We’ll just check out how your leg is doing. Let me know if you’ve had any problems with the cast, apart from the discomfort it probably brought.”

You were relatively quiet for the rest of your appointment trying your best not to make more of a fool out of yourself in front of this perfect man. If you opened your mouth you weren’t sure whether or not you would be able to control whatever came out of it. You were almost positive he seemed a little disappointed at the silence, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think too much about it because you knew it could get you into trouble. The good kind of trouble, probably, but still trouble!

---

“Can I get a small black coffee, please?” You ordered your drink in one of your favorite coffee places. Your leg had completely healed, thanks to the great care Dr. Barnes had provided, so you had been cast-free for a few weeks after almost two months stuck with that thing.

“Sure thing,” the barista taking your order said writing your name on the cup she had grabbed for you.

You walked over to the pick-up section and pulled out your phone from your bag. Scrolling through Twitter seemed like your go-to action when you were waiting for something. All your attention was put on this Buzzfeed article you had found.

Want to know what type of breakfast food you are? Uhh.. what kind of question is that!? Of course, you did!

“Black coffee for Y/N!”

Your head snapped up from the very informative quiz you were working on at the sound of your name and you went to pick up your coffee. You had been more than ready for coffee, but as you turned you almost dropped your precious cargo.

“Hi,” Dr. Barnes said as he stood right in front of you with his trademark charming smile. “I heard your name being called and I thought it would be too much of a coincidence to run into you here, but look, here you are.”

This man would be the death of you. How could a human being be this enchanting?

“Umm, yeah here I am,” you said unable to think of anything better to say.

“Coffee for Bucky!” the barista called from behind you making you jump.

“Excuse me,” Dr. Barnes said as he worked his arm past you to pick up the coffee that had just been placed on the counter behind you. He was so close, and it was totally unfair! “That’s me,” he said.

“You didn’t tell them your actual name is Dr. Barnes?” you asked, feeling hyped up again, this time not on meds, though, but on his sheer presence.

He rewarded you with a chuckle that reminded you why you had willed yourself to stay quiet on your second, and subsequent, examinations. You couldn’t stay calm around him when he was so casually chuckling and charming you with his smile.

“Nah,” he said with a teasing glint evident in his eyes. “That’s only for strictly professional occasions. You know, where you can’t really say what you’re thinking.”

Holy crap! Was this guy serious?!?!

“Right,” you whispered not trusting yourself to speak any louder.

“We should probably move out of the way, though,” he said. “We’re kind of blocking everybody picking up their orders.”

“Right,” you said a bit louder.

“Are you in a rush?” he asked as the two of you walked away from the pick-up counter to the nearby table with sugars and creamers.

Was he? Was he really going to do what you thought?

“I see an open table right there,” he said pointing to a small round table towards the back of the coffee place. “If you’re not too busy I could maybe share some of the thoughts I’ve been holding back, you know, now that I’m just Bucky,” he said, looking around the room and his voice growing smaller as his sentence went on.

What was that? He had a shy, soft side too?!? You ran through the mental checklist you had been keeping on him.

-A Doctor. Check!

-Handsome. Triple Check!

-Funny. Check!

-Kind. Check!

And for goodness sake,

-Completely adorable. Check!!!!!

How could you say no to HIM!

“I’m not busy,” you said as a smile appeared on your lips.

“You sure I’m not keeping you from practice?”

Oh god, of course he would bring that up.

“No,” you chuckled. “A very stubborn doctor put an end to that dream.”

“I’m sure he had his reasons.”

He began leading the way to the empty table he had spotted. You sat across for him and could barely control your heart. He probably didn’t need his stethoscope to hear the erratic beating of your heart.

“So, Bucky?” you wondered aloud. “I don’t think I’ve heard that name before.”

“Well, it’s more of a nickname. My first name is actually James. Middle name Buchanan, so my friends shortened my middle name and it stuck.”

“It’s cute,” you said before you could stop yourself.

“Thanks,” he said with the cutest blush spreading up his face. Definitely matched the cuteness of his name. “I--- umm--- I’m really glad I ran into you. I kind of couldn’t stop wondering how you were doing. Its been a while since you last stopped by, so I couldn’t help but be curious at what antics you were getting yourself and your poor friend into.”

You almost giggled at the way he said “friend”. Not really hiding the fact that he was hoping Pete was really just a friend.

“Pete? Oh please, he was the one who got me into this mess in the first place. Not really a good friend seeing that he got me to break my leg,” you said hoping you had it clear who Pete was to you. “And no antics, he’s promised me not to place any bets that could lead to more emergency room visits. Although, maybe I wouldn’t mind another visit, seeing as I met you there.”

That sudden surge of courage caught you off guard, but you mentally high-fived yourself for taking the chance.

Bucky’s eyes seemed to light up immediately as he processed what you had just said. You saw his usual charming smile change into the hottest smirk you’d ever seen.

“No need to hurt yourself. Why don’t we just schedule more frequent appointments outside of the hospital. We don’t have to call them appointments, though, maybe we can just stick to calling them dates?”

You couldn’t help but get closer to him, leaning forward on the table. You could play this game, too. In fact, you had started it.

“Sounds like a plan, doc,” you said. “Should I page Dr. Barnes tomorrow night?”

“How about tonight instead? Need to make sure my favorite patient doesn’t have a lot of time alone to break another bone.”

“Alright,” you said with a charming smile of your own. You pulled out a pen from your bag and grabbed his coffee cup scribbling your number. “I’ll see you tonight then, Bucky.”

“It’s a date,” he said with a wink as you got up from the table.

You walked out of the coffee place and you felt his eyes on you until you walked out the door. Your phone buzzed, and you hoped your guess on who was texting was right.

Can’t wait -Bucky

You probably shouldn’t run seeing how you were swooning over Bucky and all his charm and you REALLY did not want to break another bone, but you had to find the greatest friend in the whole world, Pete, to tell him about everything that had just happened.

Tonight couldn’t come fast enough. You would surely have to mentally prepare for what would most likely be a great time with the most handsome doctor you’d ever seen, but if he took care of you the way he had taken care of your leg, you knew you were in good hands. Falling from the skateboard had been no fun, but the possibility of falling for Bucky seemed more than fun, it seemed perfect. 

---

Bucky Tags!

@camillechan @just-add-butter @buckyisthepuresthuman @faunacea @carry-on-my-fandom @creideamhgradochas @sixweekcure4dreams   @verycoolveryunique @dugan365 @sold-my-soul-in-2016 

Its summer time!!! Still got work but I def have more time to practice my writing!