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#I feel like since this time last year I kind of flipped so many negative aspects of my life around
girlvinland · 1 year
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Aaaaaa turned in my final proj proposal for the last class in my cert and I’m so happy it’s gonna all be over soon. It has been a really great experience but I’m so ready to like move on and actually put it to use. Forgive me for being a little boastful rn or whatever but I’m honestly really proud of myself for finally doing this, I’m really happy my mentor still encouraged me with it, I’m so thankful for her and everything she’s done for me over the years. Maybe I’ll send her a letter thanking her for all of it ;w;
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savelockwoodandco · 1 year
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Hi Admin, hope everything is fine with you, because I truly need your insight.
Whilst I understand that we must approach a battle with high spirits, the way the world goes and with it the media industry really saddens me.
Are we really gonna get the show back?
Do we think CF or the Strouds will really tell us to stop if they think all is over?
I might be far too cynical, but for the Strouds any publicity brings more people to the books.
As for CF, it's still free publicity.
I know that of course none of them will ever be straightforward with us - if anything is happening behind the scenes - because they can't, I guess, but where does the Clowning stop and become simply Delusion?
I keep looking at CF reply for their 5000 followers, and I get it, it looks sus. But are we building a castle made of thin sand out of it?
I'm sorry, Admin, I don't want to upset you. :(
I will still support the show campaign, but I'm so, so, so sad about everything...
Hi Anon! Thanks for the question, and no worries, you didn't upset us! We've got decades of experience in this media game (and in cancellations specifically), and we understand that it can be challenging and frustrating at the best of times.
We totally get being discouraged due to the state of the media industry. It's never been a particularly kind nor relaxed space, and everything about it seems to have been heightened within the last decade or so. What's good -- acknowledging the impact that actors have, the ability to tell stories that would have gone unseen in years past, feeding fan interaction through behind-the-scenes looks while filming and the newfound safety of transformative works (i.e., fanfic) -- has become really, really good. On the flip side, the bad parts of media -- encouraging division and in-fighting, poor treatment of non-administrative professionals, the blind-eye to any profit beyond exponential growth -- have gotten worse.
This isn't a doom-and-gloom statement, though -- these things come in cycles. The Hayes Code Mentality is coming back into full swing, but at least we're past the point of forcing actors to get married in order to promote their films. Some things improve, some things fall back, lather, rinse, repeat. We get being discouraged due to the media landscape -- but remember, all problems are temporary, and bad things will come and go just as often as good things. The good things, the progress, the encouraging changes are no less good simply because they're accompanied by uncertainty.
And if we had to pick a mission statement for answering this ask, I suppose that would be it. There are so many good and encouraging things that have happened -- watch this space, as I (tumblr mod) am going to have Twitter Mod, in all her beneficence, grab me some screenshots from Twitter to show off good/hopeful/encouraging things that have happened recently, since not everyone (including me!) is on Twitter -- that, while we may encounter doubts, disappointments, and uncertainty, it would be as foolish to throw everything out as it would be to assume that we're completely in the clear.
Recency bias, negativity bias, and plain ol' uncertainty have a way of reminding us that there's still doubt and uncertainty surrounding us in this campaign; at times, to borrow a quote, we can feel like we're braving a storm in a skiff made of paper. When a day, a week, two weeks, or more pass without Absolute Confirmation of being picked up, it's easy to lose confidence, to become discouraged, and to believe that nothing we do matters.
And yes, to just simply get sad. And that's okay, that's normal and understandable.
To answer the question posed at the beginning of this ask: yes, we still firmly believe that we're going to get our show back. So many good things -- Nice Things -- have happened and continue to happen (once again, watch this space for a screenshot-heavy post about those things!), that I think it would be wrongheaded to ignore them.
Yes, CF would tell us if there wasn't a chance. It's not really 'free publicity' to encourage people to support a campaign to save a show that they don't have a stake in.
And yes, they make Lockwood and Co; but without a second season, there's no opportunity to make more profit off of it -- sales off DVDs only apply when the show will be put on DVD, after all, which is increasingly uncommon for streaming-premiered shows. Positive word of mouth of "oh they made that really good show that netflix unfairly cancelled" -- a true statement -- only goes so far when negative word of mouth -- "they led fans on when they knew there wasn't a chance" -- is the trade-off.
CF isn't a huge company, they need that positive word of mouth to draw in viewers for current and future projects. On top of all of that, they're human. It's tempting to see every business, no matter the size, as a soul-sucking machine that wrings fans dry for profit, but that simply isn't true, especially of smaller outfits.
The same goes for the Strouds -- there was so much of a rush for the books when the show first came out; people had to wait weeks and weeks for more copies to be printed and sent out through Amazon/Barnes & Noble/other booksellers, and libraries had hold lines for months. That fervor only holds out so long, though, without something concrete -- another season -- to keep it up. In this age of 'receipts', Stroud isn't going to risk his reputation (and provide a lot of clean-up work for his agent) by stringing us alone without any hope.
Everyone involved in this, from the production studio to the author to us, the fans, has a vested interest in not just creating buzz but in actually making a S2 happen. Simply from a business standpoint, it's better business to supply an in-demand product than to not. Attention spans -- and business experts' opinions of attention spans, which is almost more important -- are famously short nowadays. Businesses cannot and do not plan on a small injection to produce long-lasting loyalty and results -- and when they do, like Netflix has been, it bites them in the rear repeatedly.
The sad, sorry fact is that they can't be open and transparent with us about renewal efforts, you're completely right about that. The legalities of contracts and deals within the media industry demand absolute silence until the ink is dry, and sometimes for a bit after that. To use a recent example, the showrunner for Warrior Nun tweeted in March that the show being saved would be because of fan efforts to make it happen. A full 3 months later, he was allowed to announce that the show had officially been picked up. The wheels of media move slowly, but they move.
When does clowning become delusion? The only situation where it would would be if CF came out and told us to stop and that there was no chance. Barring that, it doesn't become delusion. We like to toss around the term 'clowning' -- and it's a fun term that we, the mods, use regularly -- but all we're referring to is the process of distilling what we see into tangible data.
I don't mean to make it sound like some scientific process, but...isn't it? Isn't this all some grand experiment in the name of a grand hobby?
We plot, we plan, we infer, we record, and at the end of the day we turn all of that effort into tangible results. Those results -- trending every single day since cancellation, usually with multiple hashtags/phrases, numerous articles written about the show, its cancellation, and the efforts to save it, a petition with nearly 25k signatures, award nominations, you name it -- are very real, and very helpful.
While ultimately we can't sign the contracts or enact the business deals that will cement our pick-up -- trust us, if we could, they'd be signed by now -- we can provide strong reasons through our engagement for business to want us. The higher we raise demand, the more of a no-brainer providing supply -- a second season -- is.
To all of LockNation, we thank you for your continued efforts. Your tweets, posts, fanart, fanfic, hashtags, signatures, articles, and most importantly, your relentless cheerful dedication, mean the world. We heartily thank you and we heartily encourage you to take breaks, to take care of yourselves. We're confident that, in the future, we will be able to look down at our little skiff made of paper and find that it was made of sterner stuff than we thought.
We're confident in the continued future of Lockwood and Co. We can do this. Look to other successful campaigns; we may have months to go, but we can get through them and come out the victors on the other end.
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claralouvette · 1 year
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💖𝒯𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊🌺
Hawks/ Keigo Takami x F!Reader
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Barely Proof read....0%
Synopsis💞
Having less and less time for yourself you’ve come across your 10 year journal, what happens if a certain bird read it without your permission.
⚠️WARNING: Bonus content contains 18+ content.
Tag list: @mysideeffectsofyou
Masterlist
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🌺Having less and less time for yourself you’ve come across your 10 year journal, you made a rule for yourself to never write something negative on the journal, despite your known rule your last entry was about how you felt so sad about being so lonely in life. You wanted to change that.
🌺You Brought the journal along with you to kind of update it and maybe add some new stuff too. Thankfully, Hawks is on patrol so you don't need to care for any paper works... For awhile at-least.
🌺When Hawks returned you are now bounded to a mountain of paper work that needed to be done. Hawks being a caring person(or maybe because he is secretly interested in you), he insisted on letting you go home early and so you obliged. Packing your things you said good bye to your boss, leaving the table as is. For Hawks to continue the paper works for you,
🌺Hanks all alone in the room, He lazily walks towards your table to continue working on the remaining paper. until he noticed a notebook, a notebook adored with various vintage elements. Obviously, this notebook doesn't belong anywhere at his agency, so the straight forward answer would be that you accidentally left your notebook.
🌺With the notebook taking more of his attention span than this few unfinished paper works. He hastily opened the mysterious notebook on his hands.
🌺When he reads it for the first time reading about some of the things you appreciate in life. 
“Who knew a quiet person like you, would be into so many stuff” 
🌺He knows that he shouldn’t be reading this, these are your private thoughts. Much his self debate having your journal on his hands is almost like a Pandora's box. Well all of that said, how could a man like him who is interested on you, could control himself
"This is life now he whispered "this is life now" he said the second time much louder than before
"Fuck it" and reopens your journal.
He learned how you struggle about being quirkless, but you didn't let that bother you and move on. 
He learns about your ex and how he demands you to come back to him and how you want to avoid him. 
He learns about your failed attempts of dating, etc.
🌺He learns about what you thought of him. Well Not really, "Wait, that's it?"
He was honestly so disappointed, how could he, when there is only a mere 3 sentences, 3 SENTENCES dedicated for him! It wasn't even your admiration For him it's just how he is a much better boss than your previous one.
🌺Lastly, he learns about how you feel about yourself
‘June 02 20XX
It's been awhile since I wrote, I guess I'm sorry, I had no reason to write, nothing interesting has happened. I'm writing just to let out what I've been feeling. I feel lonely, why do I feel like I don't have friends most of the times, I mean I have Friends at least I think I do.
I don't know what's wrong with me, I tried dating but none of it seems to work, is there something wrong with me? is it my attitude perhaps, a karma? I don't know. I should stop writing, like goes on, I should just try and enjoy it while I still can.’
you were alway a quiet person so hawks just assumed that your just shy, but opening your journal led him to discover new things about you and for some reason he wanted be a part of your life, so that for a change you wont be alone anymore, you could stick images of you and him hanging out on your journal, let you meet the UA high students to let you befriend them. Just imagining about it made him giggle making his heart heart Flutter. Flipping on to a next page it reads. 
“My Ideal partner”
🌺His forbidden reading session was disrupted when he suddenly hears footsteps just outside the office knowing who it was. He instinctively closed the book, put it where he found it and act like nothing happened.
🌺there was a knock and the door revealed you. Of course you have come back when you realized that your journal was not with you. When you entered, your heart dropped From the sight of him on your table, trying to act cool, you nervously explained that you forgot something on your table. he stood up from your seat to let you do your business. you noticed that he was almost done with the papers. You found your notebook and said thank you to Hawks.
🌺Before leaving the scene Hawks called you out "Do you have anything planned out tomorrow?"
"No, well maybe paper works, why?"
He explained that the there is an event at the UA High it's basically just another training for the students and he was invited to train the students on their agility. "It would be nice to have you there,"he said, you simply agreed it would be a nice change of pace For a day. 
Meanwhile Keigo’s inside thoughts were filled with "I need to know her Ideal partner!!!"
🌺the next day, you were just seating in one of the bleachers watching the students use there quirk against Hawks. Some succeeded some didn't. You were just taking pictures of the moment. Until Keigo called you to come over, he introduced you to the students and left to grab some lunch take out for the whole class.
🌺The day ended, you were tired, but not complaining you were able to make friends to some students, giving mind one of your social media contacts. some new pictures to put on your journal.
🌺You were waiting for the bus for you to return or your residence until you heard keigo making a landing behind you then asked you a question
“are you available again same time next week?"
🌺You don’t know what happened to the guy, your boss, who is now weirdly your friend now, it wasn’t like this before. It was always him in you in the office, he gives you a job, you do your job, you done the job and give it to him in such a cold and intense interaction. Among to all of your boss you’ve come across, never in your life you were able to be friend one. You always want to keep it professional, but that seems to be out of the window now that your friends, WHO KEEPS PESTERING YOU TO COME WITH HIM EVEN THOUGH YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO GO WITH HIM. 
“C’monnnn, you should come with me, we could have a roof top site seeing together after it, oh and you could take pictures to you seem to like taking picture of a lot of things” 
“Hawks-“ “It’s Keigo” Oh did I mention that he want to have a first name basis with you.
Saying his name more sternly “Hawks, You are going on a meeting, have you forgotten that your meeting is solely for you and the other heroes? Besides who would do the papers after your patrol” 
He sighs defeated.
🌺Eventually, you would allow him to bring you into some-places, you had no choice he’s been annoying you about it, its better than being locked up in the office. And when its your day off sometimes you would be invited to a mall shopping with the girls, then Keigo would come flying in, trying to force himself into the group, the girls wont stop teasing you about it.
“You should give him a chance, I think he like you” Ochaco said
“What do you mean he likes me, I’m his assistant, do you know how messed up that is, not mention I’m kind of avoiding the love department for awhile” making up excuses to exit this type of conversation.
“Hmm I don’t know, he always wants to hang out with you, not to mention how he looks at you, and give us free KFC when were with you, but boss and assistant dynamic are quite popular these days, ” Mina said, causing the group to giggle and you couldn’t help but giggle too.
“Hello there girls, what have you been giggling about” and the infamous hawk has entered the scene with bouquet of flowers on his hands offering to you. “Here, you deserve some flowers for you birthday”
The whole group just basically said “Ooooooo” 
“So mind if join you girls?”
🌺Before you even noticed you been frequently smiling more. 
“Hey there, baby bird wat’cha smiling about” Keigo asked, You’ve been re-reading your old journals, and they were quite a lot. You can’t stop smiling about the memories you’ve created for years.
“Nothing its just my journal, I was looking back at my old memories and just looking how far I’ve come, I couldn’t help but feel happy about it” You said showing him your journal, it seemed his face brightened up when you showed him the now worned out notebook.
“You can read it, if you want, I don’t mind” you said, 
“I can?” He said confusingly
“Of course why would a keep something from my newly wed husband” when you said that he was all happy about it, he was so cute, you just cant help but cuddle against him while reading your journals.
Time passed you fell asleep, he didn’t mind you both got used feeling each other heat. He continued reading and was able to see what have become of the journal he opened all those years ago. And this time he is not disappointed because he became part of your life, he loves you and you love him back, nothing is ever going to replace that. You’re his world, and he is your home. 
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💖 Bonus: 
“Morning baby bird *chu*”
“Hi sweet keigo,” 
“I have a question babe”
“Mmm, what is it” you said groggily
“Have I been your ideal partner this whole time?” He said SO seductively teasing you with that huge smirk on his face. 
“Keigo, you tease me again, I will not let you cuddle me” 
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💖Bonus X2:
"i have a confession" said keigo
"what is it" you said, more focused on the document than him
"remember that one time you left your journal, on the office? on our old office?"
"yeah?, what about it"
"well, I was so into you, and i wanna know more about you, i know its bad, but I couldn't help myself, so a read it"
"oh your in a big trouble" you said
You punished him by edging him the whole night in bed ending up spilling his seed inside of you.
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youremyheaven · 5 months
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I found your blog when I was reaserching sufism since I’m leaning into it and the first thing I saw was your post about fated love which is so crazy because I’m pretty sure I’m on a “twin flame” journey!
Last year I saw a guy I met 7 years ago and that I hated at the time and I got triggered beyond measurement (I minimized it to the fact that I was jealous of his accomplishments) and my life has flipped upside down since then. I’ve healed so much of my trauma & went though a complete ego death and went out to find my callings.
The only thing is that he has been on my mind for a whole year in a fundamental way and I’ve even had crazy lucid dreams about him and i just feel so pathetic at times for spending so much thoughts on a stranger.
When i first prayed to god for answers is when I had my first dream of him the same night as some sort of answer but I’m still confused.
Sorry if this information overload but if you have my more knowledge and advice on the subject I would appreciate so much ❤️
finally a different kind of ask <3
i have been on a twin flame journey for several years now and this is probably going to be a controversial take because i havent heard anybody else express this sort of opinion in the twin flame community (99% of people in that community are absolutely delusional so i refrain from taking part in that sort of thing) i honestly think uniting on the physical plane is probably impossible for many twin flames and i also dont think theyre meant to?
a lot of people confused limerence with twin flame-ness. idk who needs to hear this but the random married person you're obsessed with isnt your twin flame.
in 2022 i met someone who i felt strangely pulled to. he reacted to seeing me like he was struck by lightning and i felt repulsed by him. in 2023, it became this cat and mouse, back and forth kind of thing where it seemed to build into mutual obsession but after interacting with him, i was completely put off by him and felt even disgusted by him but at the same time, i have changed so profoundly as a person from that first encounter and the second encounter that i really cant make sense of it. he instils a sense of desire in me and makes me want to change things and be better for myself yk? he's like the silent voice in my head ngl, everytime i think of doing anything, i have him in mind as my imaginary audience lol. its not in terms of whether or not he would approve but rather in terms of his presence?? feels comforting?? so its nice to have his energy in mind whenever im confronted by something new??
the trauma confrontation, ego death, finding your calling etc are all part of the journey
if you feel yourself slipping into obsessive thoughts, try to focus on prayer, or work or your hobbies because its unhealthy to dwell on such thoughts too much but some minuscule amount of feelings for that person (feelings that are very confusing because it cannot be easily defined) will always linger. i wish them well and hope for the best but right now all i can do is focus on what their energy is doing to me aka undoing my life and making me level up lol and each phase of this journey is unique like that.
in my case, i dont expect to ever unite with him physically. i just dont think its possible tbh but i have a very strong feeling that i will run into him again in a few years and that its part of the journey idk
my advice would be to focus on yourself and not on him but by focusing on yourself, you are healing yourself of what is keeping you in a state where you react negatively to them, ykwim?? dont expect to be with that person, the purpose of a twin flame is to teach you things and help your soul ascend to the next level. union cannot be orchestrated and sometimes god knows best that union is not meant to be in this lifetime. but that does not mean this experience isnt valuable. the experience is what it makes of you. and its vvv easyyy to romanticize a person you dont know very well, just trust that its for the best that youre not with them tbh
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sunshades · 1 year
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🤥✏️ and 🌪️ for tirare!
[oc asks] + 👑
TIARE SO POPULAR IN MY ASKBOX. HAPPY FOR THEM
🤥 are they good liars? do they have tells to show they're lying?
mechanically: nooooo NEGATIVE CHARISMA LOOKING ASS. doesn't mean it's not worth trying. has semi-successfully hidden they're half eladrin to the party for 2 months i think, through sheer Focus (very funny, we've been rolling con saves for it). i will count being from elven bloodlines of seasonal mood-ring eyes and markings as "having a tell" and count "covering that shit up with makeup" as a point toward being kind of a good liar. more in general: they're a mediocre actor with a lot of heart, so they're amazing at things they've practiced a lot, like assuming a new identity and being super mean (they're currently here in camp). kind of a tell: hair flip when nervous. it's an elle woods kind of move.
✏️ is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?
SHOUT TO THAT VON RADICS POEM "I WAS WRONG BEFORE WHEN I SAID MEAN THINGS ABOUT LOVE SONGS. I'M SORRY LOVE SONGS" it's just sooo it. beside the whole romantic love thing of the poem it's very much also about forgiveness towards urself which is very sweet. lyrics... they have a big ol playlist out of which boys don't cry might be one of Thee songs, but i've had the vaccines on loop for a couple days so 👍 i always knew "let's go to bed before u say something real let's go to bed before u say how u feel" kind of hilarious. their ladyprince girl best friend at them for years.
🌪️ what is the biggest change you've ever made to them? how have they changed from their original version?
KIND OF LITTLE I FEEL. WEEEE as the whole party. figured out we were having a cross-campaign family tree of elves with red-adjacent hair and an m- initial like midway thru, which made me go from "uhh UHH theyre a sun elf or something?" to having a Big Ol Family, and esp the eladrin stuff which is preddy important to their character now. ended up making me lean more on the vibe of hm... duality i guess. Thee standing between but not rly feeling like u fit in any part of the world + learning how to make ur way to where u wanna go anyway. this also means they have like, a bunch of hairstyle changes and i'm DREADING making an artfight sheet and having to explain the visual journey without sounding crazy (#swag) then u__u made em as a character w a big theme of Grief since the start which has always been very fun to explore. especially after last year that has been Something to me it's very cathartic as well to write silly little character who go thru The Shit and Have Been Hamlet Many Times, Inside Their Head, and then get their silly little happy ending ☀💖
actually wait i have real answer. they weren't gonna actually be a theater kid, it was gonna be just metaphorical. now they like directing and set design and doing makeup. #growth (the crowd boos)
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survivorsupport · 2 years
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Today I realized I was sexually assaulted four years ago, possibly even raped. The incident has been affecting me negatively since it happened. Some days are better than others. But today was the first time I really came to terms with the fact that it was definitely assault, maybe even rape.
Basically, a guy I had known since childhood but recently made out with for the first time was at my house. We were both in college but home for break. He was hanging out with my whole family but as it got later my family went to bed upstairs. We made out for a while, and it was not great. I was bored more than anything, and I wanted to ask him to leave, but I felt awkward about it because I didn’t want to ruin the friendship. I did not want any kind of sexual or romantic relationship with him. For some reason, I thought if I gave him oral and he came, he would leave after. So I enthusiastically started doing so. Up to this point, no words were spoken between either of us, but we both were responding enthusiastically to everything. Even though I definitely did not want to be doing any of it, I gave no outward signs of any discomfort or reluctance. I also don’t consider anything up to this point coercion, because he didn’t do or say anything to imply anything negative if I didn’t do this for him, also I initiated it.
But then, he flipped me onto my back and started taking off my pants. I helped him. He entered me, which hurt a lot. This wasn’t unexpected, as I had been having penetrative sex for almost two years at this point and every time anything enters my vagina, I feel immense pain throughout its insertion. So, because of this sharp pain, I finally was able to have the courage to say something. This was four years ago, so it’s hard to remember exactly what I said, but I’m not even sure I could’ve told you an hour later. However, I am positive it was one of two things: “hold on” or “wait”. I can’t remember if he paused or not, but he certainly did not stop. My body language, facial expressions, and noises could not have been interpreted as “willing”, even though I didn’t use the word “no” or “fight back”. He finished inside me, but when I asked him about it seconds after, he denied it. After I told him I was tired and wanted to go to bed, he left. I cried in the shower and called my best friend.
I have told this story to friends and even my therapist as a joke many times, leaving out the part about asking him to wait. It didn’t seem like an important detail. In my mind it was just part of the pain I’m very used to. But in the last year I started to wonder why I hadn’t been mad at him for not stopping. The night it happened, my best friend suggested that it could still be a traumatic experience even if it was no one’s fault. I clung to that idea for four years. It helped that the next day he texted me that he regretted having sex. I saw it as something neither of us wanted, so clearly it was both our faults and therefore really nobody’s fault.
This took place in Indiana. Their statue of limitations is 5 years, so I could still report, but I am highly doubtful it would even go to court. I’m not even sure I want him to be prosecuted for it. He’s married now, so it makes it a little easier to hope that it won’t ever happen again. I have no idea what I want to do about it. I'm seeing my therapist tomorrow, and I think I want to tell her the whole story. I just wanted to tell my story. I’ve wasted so much time giving him excuses. Telling myself it was my fault. I just want to be able to admit to myself that I was assaulted. None of the ifs ands or buts matter when ultimately it’s still true that he assaulted me. I retracted consent and he did not stop.
It was not your fault. Thank you for feeling comfortable with telling me. It is not easy sharing your story, no matter how many years go by. It is up to you whether or not you want to try and press charges. I would consider the incident to be rape because it was clear that you wanted him to stop. You are allowed to use whatever term you feel comfortable using.
I also just want to add that it is common for young women to do more than they want to do, like to perform oral, in hopes of the other person leaving sooner without it leading to sex. Sometimes it feels safer to do this task than to risk them getting angry if we were to say no.
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The Thrilling Saga of Connie paying real life money for the Worst Sonic TV Show
Let’s begin with the simple fact that me and my sister, @birdsareblooming​ “Cori”, have both been hyperfixating on Sonic the Hedgehog since last March. During this hyperfixation, I was on Sonic Wiki to copy-paste song lyrics onto my stolen mp3s, and I called my sister in and pointed at the template at the bottom. 
“What is this Sonic Underground thing?” I asked. “It has one shit billion songs.” 
So we clicked on the page to read about it, and each sentence we read was a punch in the gut and this quickly became the funniest thing we’d ever read. Highlights include:
It looks like this:
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“Sonic[...] is known to be a prince” 
Sonic has two siblings who actually have good characterization but their names are literally just Sonia and Manic. Like. Sonic split into two names. jesus christ 
Also Sonic and his siblings all share a voice actor. honestly Jaleel White does his best with it but 
“The three siblings possess enchanted medallions that transform not only into musical instruments, but also into weapons.”
“Some fans consider Sonia to be a clone of Amy Rose, minus the attraction Amy feels for Sonic.” YEAH I SURE HOPE IT DOES
“Manic is the most often captured of the siblings” himbo king 
Knuckles shows up, and for the first, like, two sentences his description is very similar to the game, and then you get immediately pulverized by “He has a pet Dinosaur called Chomps.”
Literally so many sentences on Sonic Wiki are lowkey salty about this show. The page features lines such as “Sonic Underground bears little relation to the often complex Sonic universe (including previous animated series, as well as Sonic comics and games), and shares only three established characters” and “many of the characters in the Freedom Fighter group that were in Sonic the Hedgehog are completely left out (including Tails).”
“The show met with mostly negative reviews.”
*checks air dates* It only lasted two goddamn months
So after seeing this we thought it was the funniest thing and we showed our older sister, @patema-introverted​ “North.” To our surprise, our at the time “knew nothing about this sonic bullshit” sister recognized the show. Turns out she’d seen trailers for it as a child and that was her sole exposure to Sonic canon. 
We were in quarantine at the time, so we ended up finding it on YouTube and binge-watching it all together as a sibling bonding activity. It was just as hilarious as we thought it would be- some stuff was legitimately good, like the sibling dialogue for instance, but good lord were the character designs ugly, the plot all over the place, and pretty much every song, um, not great. Also there was one episode that we skipped because it got, um, I think “stereotypical” is the nicest word I can use here. 
But the point is, we had a jolly good time watching it, and afterwards we binged all the other Sonic shows and bonded as a family. 
After quarantine, North and I go back to college. My roommate gets groceries at Walmart, while I get them elsewhere, so while she and North collect food I wander the DVD aisle to look at the cool movies and also dumpster-dive in the bargain bin for Cats (2019). I am also short as fuck, so the top shelf of movies I cannot see, I can only read the labels. 
So one day I was browsing the DVDs, and glancing over at the labels for the top shelf. I read over the final one before the shelves end. 
And then I stop, do a double take, and have a heart attack, because there is a label that reads “SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74″
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I immediately climb the shelf but there aren’t any DVDs atop the shelf. However, the label is still there. I excitedly tell my sister and roommates, freak out with them a bit, and then give myself a mission statement:
I will buy the $4 Sonic Underground DVD from Walmart
I did not want it as a gift, I did not want to find it online. I wanted to walk into a store, pick up the Worst Sonic Show on DVD, walk it straight to the checkout, and in front of the cashier and God, pay for it with my own money. I did not care if it was the whole series or two episodes; I needed to do this for my own serotonin.
We would go to Walmart about once a week. Every time, I would go to the DVD aisle, and go right to the end of the shelves. I would stare at the label SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74 and empty space above it and wonder who the fuck was buying this other than me. I would occasionally ask employees if they had any copies in storage. I would build a shrine to Manic in my room. Okay, no I didn’t, but only because my RA would have murdered me. 
Christmas break comes, and we have to go home. We have a nice Christmas, and Cori and I infodump at each other about how we would make Sonic Underground a good show (note: we’re both galaxy braining) and also play Bendy and the Ink Machine. Fun times. 
When we finally get back to College, it’s late January- long story short we have a very long winter break. My roommate who gets food at Walmart got food without us the first week cause she showed up first, so we take her out to Walmart the first time in the year of our lord 2021 on January 29. 
I wander the Valentine’s aisle, immediately grabbing a sequin puppy. I go to the DVDs and see Animaniacs Season One, also grab that. 
And then.
There it is.
The Holy Grail. 
Above the label SONIC UNDERGROUND $3.74, is one DVD left. 
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Already I am losing my mind. It’s roughly seven hours of episodes- I couldn’t find an episode list, but I think that’s half the show, for $4! And the cover is amazing. 
That’s a png of Sonic from Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) with a medallion badly photoshopped over it. The medallion is too small. 
Manic is shoved into the corner. He doesn’t have his medallion at all. 
Sonia isn’t even pictured on the front cover, probably because they realized she was the worst designed of the bunch. I’m not ragging on her though, because she’s still one of the better designed characters of the show. Those background characters make me cry 
So you bet your ass I finally paid my hard-earned $4 for this shit. Upon getting home, I discovered that there was even wilder shit with this DVD than I thought. 
For starters: the bonus features listed are as follows:
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Original Concept Art - did not expect that these character designs were the final draft
Storyboard-to-screen - did not expect they bothered to storyboard this 
Music Video Jukebox - that’s cute, they thought we liked the music 
Interviews with original screenwriter & executive producer - I fully expect the only questions to be “why.” 
On the left of this list are screenshots from the show, where people can finally see Sonia, who we Know™ is a girl because she is pink and has hair and also an actual body shape instead of just circles like her brothers. 
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But wait... what’s that in the lefthand corner? 
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That looks like some kind of robot. But it’s not a robot from Sonic Underground! That didn’t appear once. Why is it here? 
The mystery continues upon opening the DVD case: inside are advertisements for other collections, including other Sonic DVDs: two volumes of Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog (1993) and the final episodes of Sonic the Hedgehog “SatAM” (1993)
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First of all, the first volume of AOSTH has the exact same PNG of Sonic as the Underground Volume 1. Not even trying to hide it. But second... the second volume of AOSTH also has this robot on its cover. 
And THIS ROBOT IS ALSO DECORATING THE THIRD DISC IN THE SET?
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So you may be asking, who is this robot? Is it from AOSTH or Underground?
IT’S FROM FUCKING SATAM. The one show that doesn’t have it decorating the DVD covers.
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Also, not only is it from SatAM, it only appears in one fucking episode. Not a major character! AND IT HAS A DIFFERENT DESIGN ON THE PROMO ART, WITH HAIR AND FANGS.
Why is it showing up everywhere? What is going on? 
I have not yet had the opportunity to watch this glorious piece of animation, but I am so glad at the confusion I have felt upon receiving it. 
But before I go, I must share with you the best part of this DVD purchase. And it was flipping to the back, scanning the details, and discovering the exact runtime of the episode collection. 
Guys, gals, and enby pals, friends and enemies, Nintendo and Sega, the first Volume of Sonic Underground has a runtime of...
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420 MINUTES.
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Maybe I’m wrong and this IS the best Sonic show. 
543 notes · View notes
Text
confessions
hol’ up . . . this is our vv first fic together. bye-
inspo: “Isn’t it obvious? I’m in love with you?”
genre(s): angst; fluff
fandom: the hunger games
rating: g・t・r
rated t for swearing
word count: 2.6k
warning(s): two oblivious dumbasses in love; probably unedited 
things to know: y/n (your name) ⟢ e/c (your eye colour) ⟢ y/l/n (your last name)
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Peeta Mellark.
He was your constant; your rock. You could rely on him for anything and everything.
He was the steadiest thing you’d had in your life for a long time now, but as he took your wrist and led you upstairs away from the party, you couldn’t help but feel the anger bubble up in your chest.
“Peeta, what—”
“Why?” he nearly shouts. Peeta is mild mannered. He’s many things, actually; polite, charming, and personable, but angry was not one of them. It didn’t scare you like you’d always expected it to, but rather frustrated you.
“Why what, Peeta?” you hiss back.
He looks at you as if you had just grown two heads, his brows knit together in disbelief.
“You’re joking,” he breathes. You shake your head, not understanding what he is trying to get at. You defensively cross your arms, knowing the juvenile element would annoy him, but having nothing to do with your hands increases your already anxious state.
“That guy,”
“That guy?”
“Yes, y/n, yes. That guy that was just a little too friendly with you? So close to you that he was practically crawling under your goddamn skin? What were you thinking?”
You laugh at him, unable to contain it. “I can handle myself perfectly fine. Why are you being such an ass?” you all but shout at him. “It’s none of your business anyway?”
“Hm, let’s see y/n, he could’ve, god, I don’t know, taken advantage of you?”
You scoff, unable to handle his cliché statement.
He brings his hands up and pushes his hair back, looking up at the ceiling as he exhales heavily through his nose. You squint at him, unable to read the emotions on his face.
“What is up with you?” you whisper, not quite sure if he was able to hear. Your eyes narrow, unsure of what his next words might be.
“For someone so smart, you can be so goddamn oblivious sometimes, y/l/s.”
“Oh my god, what is with all the stupid riddles tonight? I can’t read your mind! You can’t expect me to just know things,” you exasperate, throwing your hands out in front of you. “For someone who’s supposed to be good at communication, you’re doing a pretty shitty job of displaying it,” you spit, throwing his words right back at him.
“Fine,” he hisses, starting to move towards you.
You cock your eyebrow at him, your bodies coming closer, nearly closing the gap.
“Fine?” you question.
“Yeah.” he huffs out, repeating the word with an heir of finality, “yeah.” His breath warms your face, the scent of vodka invading your senses.
Your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of his proximity. You watch his adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly. He can’t meet your eyes, his heart hammering against his chest so loud that it feels as though you can hear it. His head drops along with his gaze, studying the floor before chancing a glance at you. Peeta lets go of a breathy laugh as words tumble out of his mouth.
“Isn’t it obvious?” he breathes, his words choked, hardly audible, him now looking you right in the eyes. Your stomach does a flip once, unsure of his next words. Blue eyes stare at your e/c ones that are clouded in confusion. You can feel his frustration start to build as he takes a step back from you, his voice rising and hands coming from his sides.
“I’m in love with you,” he bursts out.
Oh my god.
You stare at him in shock, his proclamation stunning you. You blink once, twice, as his words echoing through your head.
His hazel eyes bore into your e/c ones, willing you to say something, anything, to let him know you heard him. But yet you stand there, unable to find the words.
Nothing is coming out.
Say something, you beg yourself, wanting to scream out an answer, yet your mouth continues to remain shut. You swallow hard, your tongue feeling like sandpaper. How could you be so oblivious to his feelings? You and him have known each other since childhood, yet there you are, standing only inches away from him, the truth finally known.
The look in his eyes is absolutely heart-wrenching; if you hadn’t just heard him, you’d have thought he had lost his best friend. In a way, you guess, he had.
Peeta just shakes his head softly, shrugging his shoulders in such a way that makes you want to reach out and take his hand. His dark waves fall over his eyes and he turns around, facing the door.
“I—” you begin, but you know it’s too late.
“Just, um, forget it, y/n,” his voice soft, small, “I’ll see you in environmental studies.”
He opens the door and steps out into the hallway, closing the door behind him. You want to scream, to tell him to come back.  
“Dammit!” you exclaim, throwing your red solo cup as hard as you can at the wall. The contents spill all over, some of the liquid splashing on you but you can’t bring yourself to care.
You reach to pull at your loosely braided hair, a habit of yours that came out whenever you were experiencing an excess of negative emotions, before you realize where you are. You harshly rub your eyes with the heels of your hands as you remind yourself to breathe.
In, out . . . In, out.
“Get it together,” you tell yourself, taking one last deep breath. “Okay.”
You turn to head back downstairs to the party, nothing on your mind except finding Peeta and setting everything straight, hoping at this point that that was even a possibility anymore.
God, you hated this part. You hated having to make up. Saying sorry was never your strong suit, your pride always getting in the way. But this? This was not a matter of pride. This was about finally coming to terms with the truth that you so desperately tried to avoid for years.
You almost trip as you descend the stairs, looking everywhere for Peeta but unable to find him anywhere in the crowd.
Spotting a head of wavy bronze hair by the water cooler, you rush over to your english lit classmate, who is also a friend of Peeta’s; Finnick Odair.
“Hey Finnick,” you say once you reach him, trying to keep your voice even. He greets you with his signature smirk before bringing his cup to his lips and taking a sip.
“Ah, y/n, having a good time I trust?”
“Trying to,” you grumble. Finnick gives you a quizzical look before you proceed; “Have you seen Peeta?” You can’t help but notice the slight crack in your voice when you say his name.
“Yeah,” he confirms, “I saw him leave a few minutes ago. Seemed pretty upset.”
“Yeah, wonder why,” you mutter bitterly, knowing he wouldn’t hear your words above the music.
You bite your lip, weighing the option of asking Finnick to help you find Peeta. Half of you wanted to go and find him yourself, your need to get the weight off your chest as quickly as possible, the other half of you wanting to stall for as long as you could.
“Could you text him? Ask him where he is?”
“Why can’t you?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes, your cheeks burning. “Because, I—”
“Wait,” Finnick’s smile widens. “Wait, are you the reason he’s upset?”
Your silence is enough for him. His dopey smile falters for a moment, an emotion that you could only define as realization sweeping over his face. He shakes his head softly, pulling his phone from the pocket of his hoodie and opening his texts. His thumbs glide swiftly across the screen as he compiles a message to send to Peeta.
You can’t have been standing there for more than a minute when his phone dings. Finnick flashes you the screen.
From: Pita Bread
I’m fine... at the pond.
“Thank you, Finnick, really,” you breathe.
He just nods, taking another sip of his drink.
You rush out of the frat house the party was being held in, running across the street to Panem University’s main campus, willing your legs to go faster.
The pond was at the northern end of campus, smack in the middle of Tribute Hall and the Coriolanus Snow Study Center. You see a silhouette sitting on one of the few stone benches surrounding the body of tranquil water, tossing handfuls of what you can only assume is trail mix at the ducks that liked to take up at the pond.
You slow down, bringing your footfalls to a trot, then silently padding your way over the grass towards him. Your chest is heaving from the exertion as you try to make your breaths even.
“Peeta,” You call out, your voice void of any venom as you stalk towards the boy. You’re almost inclined to slap him because of how he acted. No rational person could expect someone to give them an answer to a question as heavily weighed as that right away.
He stands up once you reach him, refusing to look you in the eyes. For a fleeting moment, you catch the grief-stricken look in his usually bright eyes and it’s enough to keep you from raising your hand at him.
“Why did you leave like that?” you breathe out. He shrugs a shoulder with almost casual indifference. “Peeta.” you nearly plead, looking at him as your eyebrows knit together.
“What did you expect me to do?” he says feebly.
You look up at the night sky, inhaling deeply as you hurriedly send off a prayer to whatever higher power that you can say everything you want to say to him, in the way you want to say it.
In a way that says something to him. Means something.
The stars seem to twinkle brighter, almost like they received your message. God, this is so hard.
Peeta is still looking anywhere but at you, his focus now on the ducks idling in the water.
“You could have waited for me,” you say. “I mean, come on! That was… big. A big thing to drop on me,” you add, “so of course I was shocked. But if you had just waited for me . . .”
“What?” he snorts, finally looking you in the eyes. “What would you have said that couldn’t have possibly made me feel like more of a fool than I already was? What—”
“I love you,” you blurt.
Here it goes.
“And not in a ‘you’ve always been there for me, so I’m kind of indebted to you’ kind of way but in a way that’s like, ‘I want to do cheesy stuff with you because I know it will make you smile.’ That’s like, I would do anything, anything to prove to you that I’m worthy of your love. Peeta, you’ve seen everything I was and everything I am, and it just— I just couldn’t believe when you said that . . . But I— I trust you with everything in me and it frightens me, because you know I’ve been hurt before, but I can’t deny that everything feels right when I’m with you. I just. I want another chance. If, if you’ll let me.” You breath the words out, hardly anything but air coming out.  
“Y/n, breathe.”
“Right,” you exhale, your mind swirling around, making vertigo seem like a walk in the park.
“You’re not . . . unworthy of love,” Peeta begins but he stops, trying to figure out his words. “What Cato did to you, it doesn’t mean you’re undeserving of love. He’s.. an asshole, who’s going to get what’s coming to him. I— I’m sorry for dropping it on you like that, but seeing you with that guy, he just reminded me so much of Cato, and it made me so mad because I didn’t want you to go through that again, and I.. couldn’t help but think it was my final chance to tell you how I felt.”
“Final chance?”
“Y/n, I’ve loved you since like year six.”
“Peeta, you absolute dumbass!” you exclaim, quickly going to cover your mouth as your own words shock even yourself. “I’m sorry. It’s just . . . wow,” a laugh nearly escapes your lips. “We’re both oblivious fools, huh?”
Peeta’s brows furrow in confusion, as you let out a soft chuckle. His head is tilted slightly to the side, his soft curls falling into his blue eyes. This moment is one you’ll always remember, you think to yourself, already trying to commit it to memory. The way the trees slightly sway from the late summer breeze, the moonlight reflecting off the water; best of all, the glint in Peeta’s eye when your gazes meet. It’s so cheesy, really, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve played it over and over in your head for years, different scenarios always being formulated, but nothing you could have ever dreamt of could compare to this moment.
“I’ve loved you since year seven,” you tell him, every word of it true. “I can’t believe it took us both this long. Could have avoided the whole Cato fiasco of year twelve, I suppose, if we had just . . . had the gall to tell each other back then, I guess,” you say, the last sentence mumbled.
“Yeah.” Peeta laughs, a genuine deep laugh that reaches his eyes. It rouses the butterflies that have been in the pit of your stomach, the fluttering making you nervous as you watch him scratch the base of his neck almost embarrassedly.
“So,” you say, dragging the ‘o’ sound. “Pretty sure this is the part where most people would kiss.”
“Do you want to kiss me?”
“No, not you, Peeta. I was talking to the duck behind you,” You frown, unable to contain the scoff that passes your lips. “Yes.. yes, I want to kiss you,” you breathe, your pulse hammering.
You step forward, your hands reaching up, gliding against his cheeks, his hands resting on your waist. In a moment of bravery, you place your lips against his. They’re soft, and he tastes like cedar and bread, and it’s like coming home, being in his arms as his lips move against yours, the breeze chilling your skin but his warming you.
There are no words spoken between the two of you as you both pull away. His eyes are still closed, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks; the corners of his mouth are pulled up slightly.
God, he’s beautiful. So beautiful. That word is usually reserved for sceneries, sunsets or pretty dresses, but in this moment, you can’t tear your eyes away from him.
“Finally!” someone shouts, causing the both of you to jump back from each other, acting like two first years getting caught passing notes in class. You look around before your eyes land on Johanna Mason, leaning against the statue of the university founder Alma Coin that’s off to the left of the entrance of the study center. Finnick is with her, his signature smirk gracing his elegant features once more. “We were wondering when you two would have the balls to tell each other how you felt.”
“It seems everyone knew but you two,” Finnick adds with a deep chuckle.
“Alright, Finny, I think we should leave the two lovebirds alone.” Johanna says, turning away. “Be safe, you two!”
“If you need anything,” Finnick winks at Peeta. “You know where to reach me.”  
You laugh softly, leaning your head against Peeta’s chest. His arms wrap around you, encasing you in him. His cheeks rests on the top of your head, his breaths evening out as you listen to his steady heart beat.
This is it. This is home.
371 notes · View notes
nanikoreeeh · 4 years
Text
― meaningless effort [ ch. i ]
a miya atsumu X chubby!reader story
synopsis;  there's a force to be reckoned within him, it beats inside his chest and plunges him forward; there's a craving in her heart that he fills, miya atsumu washes over you with the strength of a roaring tide and the water is creeping under your toes...
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author’s note; i didn’t mean to write this, @darlingtobio​ sent me a request of a stalker atsumu pinning on a chubby reader and i feel this is a concept i can explore and  develop further, i don’t know how many chapters this will have but i hope you can join me on the ride ;D
warnings; toxic behaviour, pinning, angst, fluff, smut, chubby reader, body image issues, insensitive atsumu at times, slow burn, stalking.
― if you liked the story it would mean the world to me if you could comment & reblog so i know that you enjoyed it, thanks a lot :D
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He can still remember the first time you smiled at him, the soft curve that lit your pretty lips upwards, the squinting of your kind eyes that showed him that your smile was sincere. He doesn’t remember why you smiled at him, but the context isn’t important, what matters is that he felt something inside him change. An urge to see you smiling like that again, to get to know how he could make you smile again like that.
He hadn’t really paid you much attention before that, but he knew he had been sharing classes with you during his three years of highschool. At first he can’t help but get frustrated about not noticing you sooner, he’s been so driven by volleyball that he hasn’t had the chance to properly think about being serious with someone. He gets over that negative feeling soon enough, what matters is that now he has the chance to really go for it, he’s career is looking bright and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to have you by his side as he makes it to the top of competitive volleyball.
Then he finds out that you’re also moving to Osaka to attend college, and it feels like destiny.
“Good morning, Y/N-chan.” Greets you the blonde twin while leaning against your desk like every morning for the past weeks. Miya Atsumu has turned out to be a box full of surprises, you still get a little startled as he rests his elbows on the flat surface of your notebook, and you return his greeting with a smile.
He is softer than you’d expected, he likes to make small talk about the kind of places he likes to go when he has free time and to tell you about his games, “You should come to cheer me up someday.” He casually mentions and your heart gets excited at his proposal, but then he adds; “The team can always use the support”.
Of course you’d just be another girl in the stands cheering for his name, he doesn’t particularly care if it’s you or anyone else you guess. Yes, he is softer than you thought, but you find that your assumptions about him weren’t all that off, he’s a little too cocky sometimes.
Is better this way, it keeps you from liking him too much. He is too handsome and cheeky to not make your insides flutter, but you’ve seen several of his exes and know for sure you’re not really his type. You try not to let it get you down too much, is not like you feel worthless, but still, stings knowing he wouldn’t go for you.
So you keep up with his conversations and sometimes when he surprises you from behind, one hand pinching your sides as he mutters a “Are you thinking of something lewd?” you let yourself get excited, but only for a couple of seconds. Then at nights when your mind wanders into fantasies of the two of you being together you end up rationalizing that he’s just like that and that you should be careful of not falling for someone who doesn’t even sees you as someone they could fall in for.
You don’t notice the way his gaze lingers on your back when you walk away from him, and you think it's just a coincidence when you run into him while you’re hanging with your friends at your favorite cafe. He gives you an almost bored smile from the counter and goes to sit at his own booth all by himself after briefly saying hi to you.
You are about to leave when he sneaks by your side, his fingers tightly squeezing the chub on your upper arm to keep you from moving. It’s ridiculous how nervous his simple touch can make you. You look up at him confused, mildly worried about the placement of his hand. But he pays it no mind at your expression.
“Were you leaving without saying goodbye?” His tone is playful, the almost whisper in his voice makes your insides flip and you exhale to calm your nerves before asking as casually as possible.
“You seemed to want some alone time” you admit, shyer than you'd have liked.
He tilts his head sideways and only mutters an elongated “Mmh” at your answer, he looks at your group of friends waiting outside for you. “Where are you going now?”
“I think we’re going karaoking”. You notice he hasn’t let go of your arm, brown eyes intensely staring at your own. You don’t know what drives you to be bold and ask, but you do it anyways. “Why don’t you come with us?”
Atsumu can feel his heart jumping inside his chest, he knows it’s too cheesy, and still he can’t help it, nor his grip digging into your flabby arm with more strength for a couple of seconds. Are you actually asking him out?
Then the laughter of your friends tears his gaze apart from your eyes and he feels bitter. You must be asking just to be polite, and he doesn’t want his first date with you to be like this. He wants you all to himself, he’s never been big on sharing, he’s man enough to own it, so even if it pains him to part himself from you, especially after coming all the way to this place just for you has to say no.
At night, as he stares at the ceiling of his room a thought can’t help but wander to his mind: sometimes he dislikes you, who are you and why are you making him feel like this, act like this? He’s never been one to hang onto a crush like this. Today was unexpected, yesterday he was scrolling to your instagram and just a couple of hours ago he gave up his free day to follow after you? He opens your stories once again even when you haven’t made an update since your last clip of you entoning - quite awfully if he is being honest- the opening of Neon Genesis Evangelion.
He tosses around in bed scrolling through your pictures finding just the right one: the hem of your school skirt has ridden high enough for him to see a thin line of skin that your long stockings usually hide. It’s nothing, is just a small glimpse at your legs but still it has him wondering what kind of other thing you could be hiding.
He spits in the palm of his hand, pulling down at his boxers just enough to set his semi half cock free, he coats his member on his emission, head tossing back and a sigh emitting between his lips. What kind of panties do you wear? He strokes himself slowly but firmly, his shoulders easing into the delicious friction. He stares at the picture, you’re doing the peace sign and it’s summer, the outline of your boobs looking so tempting inside the white fabric of your blouse. He begins to stroke himself harder.
What kind of bra are you wearing in that picture? He presses his thumb against his slit, delicious pain flooding through his core. What kind of bra are you wearing right now? Are you even wearing any bra, any clothes?  His erection grows, his mind creates an picture of what he imagines your naked body to look like, he imagines you spread open, juices flowing from your pussy as your fingers desperately try to fuck your hole, but you can’t… He wonders if perhaps you’re doing the same thing he is doing right now…
Maybe your fingers are really rubbing against your own clit at this exact moment, face flushed and eager rhythm, you need to come, you want to come… but you can’t, you are missing something, you’re whimpering into your pillow, wet noises coming from your ministrations but you just can’t come…
What if you’re whimpering his name as you shove your fingers into your tight cunt? He could make you come so badly, he wants to make you come so badly… His strokes grow faster, his pace more erratic. He bets if it were his fingers inside your pretty pussy he’d have you seeing stars, his fingers reaching that spongy tissue that would have you coming undone.
He can almost hear your needy whimpers…
“Atsu… A-Atsumu… please, just fuck me”.
He is so close, frantic strokes and his teeth biting his lips to avoid making any kind of sound that will give away what he is doing, he limits himself to strangle his groan, the metallic taste of blood flowing through his papilas but he doesn’t care. He imagines  pounding into you, your arms holding to his neck for dear life as his balls slap against your sore pussy, you are coming around him and he is filling your insides with his come…
His respiration is coming uneven, lound pants making his chest rise and fall, warm capitulation covering his fingers and his abdomen and his glossy eyes stare at your picture again.
You are hideous, you are just the worst,  and Atsumu really wants to mean it…
He turns around, stomach flat against his bed, head tilted sideways, fingers clenching around his phone, your face clearly present behind his closed lids. His heart is aching, he can feel it longing, needy for your presence by his side.
Sometimes he dislikes you, he dislikes that you leave him craving you like this. Do you even think about him? He sighs, the heavy drowsiness from sleep beginning to take him away.
He mutters your name in the darkness, it wraps around him like a soft duvet. Should he embrace you?
He thinks about your smile, that damned smile that was the beginning of his downfall… He is gonna embrace you, but you’re not going to own him, not unless he makes you need him just as much. He is gonna make sure you embrace him too.
1K notes · View notes
manonblaqkbeak · 3 years
Text
Among the Stacks
Back for Day 4-Librarians/Libraries, which I was super thrilled to see on the list, since I’m a certified library assistant and librarian technician and a big advocate for libraries in general and how important they are to society for a number of reasons!!!
This is just some wholesome fluff, most of these fics are (bc thats all i write lol) but i am preparing for a lil angst on the 10th ;)
Hope you all enjoy! :)
cw: none
1.5k words
There were many reasons why Aelin loved being a librarian technician and working at Orynth Public Library (of course there were reasons she very much disliked it, but the positives outweighed the negatives). The ever present scent of books was one, and the fact that she saved a ridiculous amount of money from borrowing books instead of buying them, as purchasing them became close to an addiction. The regular patrons that visited. Helping people with creating resumes and look for jobs because they couldn't afford laptops or computers at home, and looking for jobs on phones was annoying.
The overflowing suggestion box filled with ideas for books and ways to make the library more homely. Her comfortable office chair and her favourite cafe owned by a high school friend right around the corner, and the fact that Nesryn gave her discounts because she had set her up with her now-fiance Sartaq.
The laughter of babies and young children when it was story-time and the drawings that they created. The people that came to the library just to be somewhere else without feeling the pressure of having to spend money. The people that came sorely for the free WiFi and power-boards to charge their phones.
Working with her childhood friend and pseudo-sister Elide. And one very handsome and kind construction worker, Rowan Whitethorn.
Elide said that Aelin was in love with Rowan, with how she gushed over how pretty and intelligent he was, but Aelin denied that. It would be absurd to be in love with him. She just really liked him.
The only problem was she hadn't had the chance to ask him out on a date. She only saw him when he came in the library, and it was inappropriate to ask someone out while at work. There was also the fact that while he came here weekly, she wasn't sure if he was single, because surely someone that handsome had to be with someone.
But he hadn't mentioned any partners and Aelin didn't spot a ring, either on his finger or on a chain around his neck, but it still made Aelin hesitate.
Elide had told Aelin many times that when Rowan was here, he made 'heart eyes' when Aelin's back was turned. Aelin scoffed at the notion, but her heart flipped at that—Elide was freakishly observant and knew how to read people to a minuscule level.
Aelin was in the middle of covering the latest hardbacks, her mind completely focused on the task, when Elide said, typing away, “It's eleven A.M.”
Aelin looked at the large clock behind her and nodded. “That it is.”
A small smile was on Elide's lips, her dark eyes bright. “Just thought I'd let you know. Since a certain someone usually comes in around eleven-fifteen on Saturdays if he hasn't been here during the week.”
Elide could sometimes be as subtle as a brick to the head. Aelin finished the last book and cleaned her hands off with the hand sanitiser. She could feel her friends dark stare at the back of her head.
“I'm aware, thank you,” was all Aelin said.
If Aelin didn't ask Rowan out soon, Elide was going to do it for her—no matter how often Aelin repeated about the inappropriate aspect of it all.
Elide thought that was bullshit.
Telling her friend that she was going to put these books on the 'New Releases' shelf, Aelin once again focused on her task, straightening up other books as she went.
She had just finished up when a deep voice said behind her, “Good morning, Aelin.”
Smiling, she turned. “Good morning, Rowan.” She spotted his current read in his large hands. “How's the book going?”
He returned her smile. “Great. I was wondering if you had the sequel?”
“We should do, just follow me.” They had their usual conversations about their week, with Rowan telling her how a fellow worker had injured himself and how it had turned the whole production upside down. Apparently, his site manager was sweating buckets the entire time, fretting about paperwork more than anything else.
Aelin didn't envy his work at all. While there were chances for Aelin or others to hurt themselves in the library, the worst that had happened to Aelin in all her years here was a bruised foot after dropping a dictionary and the rare scolding she had received from her boss, Glennis, for not wearing the proper footwear. Her bruised foot was nothing compared to the torture of having to watch an hour long video about work health and safety the following morning.
As Aelin found the sequel, they stayed hidden among the stacks, talking about everything and nothing, with Aelin temporarily forgetting that she was at work and had other duties to attend to.
Because it was hard to remember what those duties were when she got lost in his dark green eyes. Especially when they trailed down the tattoo that started at his temple and down his neck, to his fingertips.
Aelin had never really been a fan about facial tattoos, but she really liked his. It suited him.
However, she was abruptly reminded of her job when she heard a young voice call out her name. It was one of her regular patrons, Evangeline, who was always here after school and on Saturdays tackling her homework and assignments. Her foster parents were negligent and didn't think that she needed a laptop to do her school work, since they didn't back in the “old days”, completely unaware that it was the digital age and laptops and computers were vital to get the work done.
Aelin excused herself, finding Evangeline flustered at her favourite spot, the desktop frozen and unaware of what to do. It was hard not to crush the girl into a hug when Aelin saw tears in her eyes, scared that she was going to get into trouble.
“Don't worry,” Aelin told the girl kindly, “it'll be okay. Sometimes computers get grumpy and have temper tantrums but I just know the right way to fix it.”
Unaware that Rowan left the stacks, she missed his soft smile as he watched her work her magic, instructing Evangeline step by step what to do if it happened again.
He made his way to the front desk, where Elide was still furiously typing away, muttering underneath her breath about cataloging.
Deciding that it would best to leave her to it and use the self-serve machine, Elide cleared her throat, catching his attention, and said, “Aelin's single.”
Elide was sick of watching them dance around each other. She understood Aelin's hesitancy, she did, but if she had to watch them flutter their eyes at each other one more time, she was going to lose it.
And Elide was aware that Rowan was aware of why Aelin hadn't asked him out, and that he didn't want to appear inappropriate and ask Aelin out while she was at work. Elide respected for it, truthfully.
So Elide had decided to do it herself, inappropriateness be damned.
Rowan blinked, and blinked again, clearly unsure what to say or do. He came back over to her desk, tattooed hand striking against the plain book cover.
But he recollected himself, and asked, “Does she suffer from hay-fever?”
“No. And once she's done helping Evangeline over there, she'll be going to her favourite cafe for her late morning caffeine fix.”
Rowan nodded, his mind already on what flowers he would buy for her. She had a small Kingsflame tattoo on her wrist and told him it was her favourite flower when he asked her about it weeks ago. “Thank you, Elide.”
Elide simply smiled and reached for his book as Aelin came around, talking to the both of them, when Rowan asked if they knew of any good cafes.
It was good that he was finally taking that step, but Elide had to stop herself from laughing at how completely unsubtle the question was. Elide was already prepared for when Aelin would ask her later what happened between them.
But Aelin smiled and told him of her favourite place and they left together.
X X X X X X
Aelin ordered her usual, a caramel macchiato with two shots, and Rowan ordered a flat white with soy milk (he suffered from lactose intolerance, which Aelin would hate if that was her, because she had once tried lactose free chocolate and it was dreadful).
Rowan pulled out her chair when they sat out front, taking a seat across from her. Her heart flipped at the sweet gesture.
“I was wondering,” he started off with, his eyes staring unflinchingly into hers, “if you'd like to go out on a date sometime?”
Aelin didn't even think twice before accepting and they planned it out right there, exchanging numbers at the end of it. He walked her back to the library, a small smile on both their lips.
From the smile that Elide gave her when she returned, Aelin knew she was involved—and not at all surprised—and at that moment, Aelin was very happy to have a friend like Elide.
And for her date that very night with Rowan.
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tall, blonde and gorgeous • jeon jeongguk
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plot — when jeongguk dyes his hair blonde, it might just be the push you both need to finally talk about the feelings you have for each other.
words — 5.7K
You woke up in the middle of the night, craving some apple juice. You knew there was in the kitchen fridge, because Taehyung always made sure to stock up whenever you come for a weekend visit.
Speaking of your brother, he was passed out next to you, the two of you sharing his King sized bed while you visited. Like you always did. It was mostly just you two, but sometimes Jimin would join you. You don't mind, you known both of them since forever and Jimin is your brother as much as Taehyung is.
Quietly, you got out of bed. You didn't want to wake your brother, he works so hard and needs his rest.
The dorm was silent, which was a little weird because there was usually always someone up. It was only when on tour that all seven of the boys would sometimes be asleep at once, but even that was rare.
Shrugging it off, you padded the rest of the way to the kitchen, only to come to a halt in the doorway, freezing.
Someone with a mop of blond hair stood with his back to you, digging through the fridge.
The digging through the fridge wasn't what surprised you, no, it was the hair because as far as you knew, no one in Bangtan had blonde hair right now.
You knew because your brother was always spamming your phone, whenever he had time, with pictures, videos, voice notes and messages. You and Taehyung have always been close and he always made the effort to keep you up-to-date with his life but also made a point to keep you out of the spotlight, which you appreciate more than you tell him. Come to think of it, more than half your gallery is made up of pictures of Bangtan. The other half is made up of your rare selfies, pictures with your friends, of your dog or your brother's dog.
The point is, if someone colored their hair, you would know within five minutes - with pictures and everything. And Taehyung hasn't spammed your phone since yesterday morning when he and Jimin accidentally got Hobi instead of Jeongguk with a water balloon.
So, the question is, who is the blonde currently rummaging through the fridge?
You looked him up and down, noticing the very nice, very broad and clearly strong shoulders covered with a black t-shirt that hid the rest of the guy's figure. Your gaze went down a nice ass and long legs that was wearing grey sweatpants and finally stopping at bare feet.
Something flashed in your mind.
Wait a minute.
You know that ass. You've looked at it enough over the last seven years to recognize it anywhere in a crowd.
"Jeongguk?" You called, a little satisfied when he jumped upright, turning to you with wide eyes. Your heart decided to double its pace.
"Ah, tiny, you're awake. I thought you were sleeping, trying to grow some more." He teased, his heartbeat slowly calming down from the freight you gave him. His eyes quickly scanned you over, and he had to suppress a smile when he saw the bright orange pajamas. It was ugly as hell - he made sure to tell you many times but you always just roll your eyes at him or if you were feeling particularly moody, you'd flip him a finger.
Now, ordinarily, you'd snap at him for calling you tiny because you aren't (it doesn't matter that Jimin is 12 centimeters taller than you, it doesn't make you tiny, short maybe, but not tiny) but right now, you could only focus on one thing.
"Y-your hair." You stuttered, which was new because you never stutter in Jeongguk's presence. Your heart may race, your legs may turn into jelly, your hands may tremble and your stomach may fill with butterflies but you never stutter. And you never let him know what you're feeling.
He ran a hand through his freshly dyed blonde hair, only a little self-conscious with the intense stare you were giving him. He couldn't tell if it was positive or negative. "Yeah, I just wanted a change, something different."
"Well, it's definitely different. Mission accomplished." You informed him, walking into the kitchen fully, your voice miraculously even as you were internally panicking. This was like that time he dyed his hair pink all over again. Oh god. You hoped you could form coherent sentences this time around instead of just giving him the silent treatment for two weeks.
Like you said, you don't stutter around Jeongguk. Ever.
Jeongguk tilted his head at you curiously. "Bad different?"
"No!" You exclaimed, not wanting him to think that. You shook your head vigorously. "Not all. It looks good actually. Really good." So good, in fact, that your fingers itched to touch, to run your hands through it, play with the dyed locks of hair.
Jeongguk looked at you in pleasant surprise, lips stretching into that familiar bunny smile that made you swoon. He bit his bottom lip before saying. "I think that's the first time you ever paid me a compliment."
You frowned, "That can't be true."
"It is." Jeongguk's tone was matter-of-fact. "In seven years, you've never once given me a compliment. I would have remembered."
You pursed your lips, a sudden surge of guilt rushing through your chest at the look on his face - hurt.
"Well, you get lots of compliments from other people, right?" You said, trying to deflect because you never once thought that by staying quiet around Jeongguk, just to hide your feelings, that you'd hurt him.
"But never from you." Jeongguk said, words low and heavy with something you didn't understand. He stared at you, eyes open and strangely vulnerable. You didn't understand what he was trying to tell you.
You frowned at him again, "What does it matter?"
Something in Jeongguk's eyes shuttered at that, like he let you see something but now he pulled his walls back up. You still didn't understand it and he wasn't volunteering an answer.
Finally, he shrugged, "It doesn't, I guess." and he turned back to the refrigerator.
You had a feeling he was lying but you weren't going to call him out because that wasn't your place and it wasn't the kind of thing you and Jeongguk did. Whenever things seemed to go in a direction where feelings were involved - and not about other people but about each other, like what you think of Jeongguk and what he thinks of you - one of you stops the conversation before it can go deeper.
You tease each other good-naturedly, comfortable with each other because you are the same age, and you've listened to him rant when he was frustrated and even held his hand at times when he cried because the pressure of it all got a little to much.
It struck you, suddenly, how Jeongguk always comes to you first. Whether he's stupidly happy about something, or whether he's sad and wants a shoulder to cry on. You two could talk about anything under the sun or moon but whenever it comes to your feelings for each other, you shut down. You've never even admitted that you are, at the very least, friends and that you do care about each other.
You wondered if maybe it was time to change that.
You looked at Jeongguk's back and wanted to ask if thinks of you as a friend, if nothing else but what came out was, "Can you hand me a juice box please?"
He did so, without a word, and you decided to go back to bed. You stopped in the doorway again, turning back to him. "Jeongguk?"
"Yeah?" His tone, his eyes, was strangely hopeful and it made your heart twist. You looked at him, and somehow fell a little bit more in love with him.
"You know that I care about you, right? I mean, I know we've never talked about it, but I do." Your hands was shaking and you gripped the juice box. Luckily you didn't press the straw in yet or your hands would be full of apple juice right now.
The smile Jeongguk gave you was brilliant and it made your heart feel lighter than ever. He nodded his head, "I know."
"Good."
"I-" He started, breath catching a bit but forced himself to go on because if you could be brave, then so could he. "I care about you, too."
You grinned at him before turning away and going back to Taehyung's room, a definite skip in your step.
* * *
"So, what do you think?" Taehyung asked eagerly the next morning after breakfast, when everyone cooed and screeched over Jeongguk's hair.
You were back in your brother's room, scrolling through your Twitter feed. You looked at him, not sure what he was talking about. When it comes to Taehyung it can anything from the lines for a song he's working on to his next prank on one of the members.
"Of what?" You asked.
"About Jeonggukie." He said, waving with a hand at his head, so that the meaning was clear.
"Ah, you mean his transformation from tall, dark and handsome to tall, blonde and gorgeous?"
"Yes! What do you think?" Your brother looked at you expectantly.
"I think my previous question is an answer to that question." You smirked at him, snickering when he just scoffed before pouting at you.
"I hate it when you go all smartass on me." He said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I love you, too." You sing-songed with a lighthearted giggled.
* * *
Later that afternoon, you decided to watch a movie and was joined by Jeongguk, Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin.
"Jeongguk-ah." You called from where you were sitting on the two seater couch next to Hoseok. Jimin and Taehyung was laying cuddled on the three seater and Jeongguk was sitting on the floor, against the front of the coffee table. You weren't sure where the rest are right now.
He turned to you, eyes narrowed suspiciously, "What do you want?"
You gaped at him, "What makes you think I want something?"
"Because you only call me 'Jeongguk-ah' when you want something." He was matter-of-fact.
The other three was watching the two of you instead of the movie.
"Like what? I rarely ask you anything." You frowned at him.
"Like getting your phone from Taehyung-hyung's room, making you tea, bringing you a blanket, getting your food." Jeongguk said and you huffed. Okay, so maybe you do that but this time what you want would benefit him too.
"Okay, first of all, you didn't have to do any of what I asked, you know. And second, you'll like this too." You assured him, then added after a moment. "I think."
Jeongguk looked at you warily as Jimin and Taehyung exchanged smirks. "What do you want?"
"I want to play with your hair." You shrugged nonchalantly, not showing a hint of how nervous you are, no showing how it took you the whole morning to pluck enough courage together to ask.
Jeongguk's mouth fell open in surprise, "Seriously?"
"Yeah, I mean I've always liked your hair but this blonde hair is really doing for you." You smiled at him, a little more confident when you saw more confusion than anything else on his face. Satisfaction rolled through you when you noticed his red ears.
"Whatever, fine." He muttered in agreement, looking away from you as he stood up right and came to sit down infront of you.
"Thank you." You grinned, clapping your hands in glee as you crossed your legs on the couch, knees touching Jeongguk's shoulders.
"Just don't tangle it." Jeongguk said, eyes fixed on the TV screen.
"I won't." You promised before reaching out and running your hands through his hair. It was just as soft as you hoped, instead of being dry and rough from the dye - it made you feel giddy.
Jeongguk tensed under the touch for a second but relaxed when you continued your gentle ministrations, nails scraping softly against his scalp. You tuned out the rest of the room, having watched the movie before - you've watched all the Marvel movies with Jeongguk at least three times - and continued playing with the blonde tresses.
Still, something caught your attention and you said, "Jimin-oppa, put away that phone."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He said innocently, hiding his phone behind his back.
"Sure you don't."
It was silent for fifteen seconds before he whined, "But no one will believe me if I don't have proof."
"They'll believe Hobi-oppa." You retorted, nodding to the ray of sunshine sitting besides you.
Jimin huffed indignantly but dutifully put his phone away.
You continued playing with Jeongguk's hair, twirled and braided and separated and bunched it together like a pineapple stem atop his hair. The movie finished and Taehyung picked another one and you still played with Jeongguk's hair.
Twenty minutes into the new movie, Jeongguk's head fell back, onto your legs, eyes closed. You gaped at the blonde.
"Jeongguk." You whispered, not wanting to wake him if he is sleeping but not sure if he's playing either.
"Did he fall asleep?" Your brother asked, laughter in his voice, making his eyes sparkle.
"I think so." You nodded, in a state of bewilderment and disbelief.
"You must have magic hands." Hoseok said before pressing a hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his laughter.
Your glared at them. "Not one more word out of the three of you, or I'll change the sugar in your coffee for salt for the indefinite future."
"I didn't say anything." Jimin protested and you just gave him a pointed look.
They thankfully kept quiet after that, but you could see them glancing at you and Jeongguk every now and again. You ignored their gazes as you continued playing with his hair.
Your heart was thumping happily in your chest, glad that Jeongguk enjoy you playing with his hair so much that it lulled him to sleep. It made you feel so content that you didn't want to move again.
You even turned a blind eye when you saw Jimin turning his phone in your direction ten minutes later.
At the end of the movie, you decided to wake Jeongguk up. As much as you like him sleeping on your legs, they were starting to fall asleep and he would get a stiff neck if he keeps sleeping like that.
So, you shooed everyone out of the room before gently shaking his shoulder. "Jeongguk-ah, wake up."
He groaned and you repeated your actions, watching as his eyes fluttered open. You looked into his sleepy eyes, wanting to coo as you watched him blink his way out of sleep. He quickly recognised you, even upside down, and immediately sat upright, looking at you with wide eyes.
"Y/N?" His voice was husky with sleep and it made your cheeks heat up. "What happened?"
"You feel asleep." You explained. You watched as he nodded slowly, processing this and felt the urge to tease him a little, so you added, "On my lap."
Jeongguk's cheeks flushed pink and you couldn't help the fond smile on your lips. He ducked his head shyly and spoke a soft, "Sorry."
"It's okay." You waved him off. You wanted to even the field between you because it felt unbalanced somehow, like you had something over Jeongguk. You didn't like it, you wanted to be right besides him. Not above or below him. (Although many people would say he's way above you, you know that he doesn't care about that and neither do you.) Finally you admitted, "I liked it, it was nice that you felt relaxed enough because of me to fall asleep."
"I liked it, too."
You smiled, a little shy but also feeling bold by his admission. "I'll do it again sometime then."
"Okay." He grinned.
* * *
After that weekend, it took three weeks before you had another free weekend to go and visit your brother. With your bag slung over your shoulder and a bouquet of red tulips in your hand, you opened the door and called a loud hello to anyone inside. You made you way to the kitchen first, wanting to put the flowers in some water.
You found Jeongguk - who was still blonde, and your heart instantly picked up its pace - and Namjoon in the kitchen, the leader busy by the microwave and Jeongguk waiting as far as humanly possible from it. You quickly realised what was happening and supressed a smile. Namjoon must be heating food up for Jeongguk, who is afraid of microwaves.
You exchanged greetings and you quickly started looking through the cupboards for a vase.
"Those are pretty flowers." Namjoon remarked, leaning against the counter.
"I know right."
"Where did you get them?" Jeongguk asked, eyes on the admittedly pretty flowers.
"Oh, some guy gave them to me before asking me out." You answered absentmindedly as you continued your search for a vase.
Behind you, Jeongguk tensed, his hands curling into fists.
"Really?" Namjoon asked, more to see Jeongguk's reaction than anything else.
"Yeah, I almost said yes, too, just for the fact that he gave me flowers." You nodded over your shoulder. "Do you guys have a vase? I swear Jin-oppa had one in the old dorm."
"Under the sink." Namjoon answered, arms crossed over his chest as he looked back and forth between an oblivious-you and a jealous-Jeongguk, a smile on the corners of his lips.
"Thanks." You grinned before walking over to the sink and crouching down. You opened the cupboard and had to dig past the sponges, cloths, windowlene, bleach and dishwashing liquid before spotting the crystal vase. "I love flowers, you know? Not many people know because it's not something I advertise but Taehyung-oppa always gives me flowers for my birthday, every year since I was thirteen." You babbled as you gently pulled out the vase, not wanting to knock it against one of the pipes and crack or shatter it by accident. It was a little dusty, so you rinsed it before filling it halfway with water.
"Do you have a favorite flower?" Namjoon asked, partly to fill the silence because Jeongguk was glaring at the ceiling, tongue in cheek, and partly because he genuinely wants to know.
"Nope," You shook your head, removing the protective plastic around the flowers and putting them in the water. "I like all kinds of flowers. Roses, lillies, forget-me-nots, proteas, tulips, sunflowers - you name it, I love it. And in all colours too. There's just too many to pick a favorite. Although I really like pink lotus flowers. I'd love to grow them when I have my own garden someday. I'll have to install a shallow pond, of course, because they grow in mud but yeah, that's something I'd really like to try." You rambled on. Namjoon watched you fondly and glanced at the maknae, seeing that Jeongguk was still tense.
"Did you say yes?" Jeongguk burst out asking the moment you stopped talking.
"Huh?" You frowned at him, a little lost because you were completely caught up in thoughts of flowers.
"The date." He said, voice taking a sharp edge. "Did you say yes?"
"Oh." Realisation dawned on you and you shook your head. "No, I didn't."
"Then why did you take his flowers? You'll give him the wrong idea." Jeongguk grumbled.
Namjoon thought that right now was the best time to become a missing person and quickly exited the kitchen. He is not playing referee, should this turn into an arguement. No, thank you, he's done it enough between these two.
You rolled your eyes at Jeongguk, "I made myself perfectly clear, Jeongguk. I told him that while I adore the flowers, I don't like him."
"Still, you shouldn't have taken them." Jeongguk insisted, stepping closer to you.
Your temper flared, "Excuse me? Why not?"
"What if someone had seen? What if they start thinking that you two are dating?" Jeongguk's tone was something crossed between horror and panic.
"And so what if they think that?" You frowned at Jeongguk because what does it matter what other people think when you know the truth?
"So you do want people to think you're dating." Jeongguk said, voice cutting and accusing.
"What?" You stepped closer to Jeongguk, getting angrier by the second.
"Do you actually like this guy?" Jeongguk asked, sounding distressed with the thought but you were to angry to pay any attention to that.
You scoffed, "Don't be ridiculous."
"I'm ridiculous?" He pointed to himself, shocked.
"Yes! They're just fucking flowers!" Your voice was raised as you snapped at him, louder and harsher than it's been in a long time towards Jeongguk, of all people.
You didn't have time to feel guilty because his next words matched yours in volume, "That some other guy bought for you!"
"And your point is what exactly?!" Your voice didn't lower.
"My point is that I can buy you flowers!" Jeongguk shouted back.
The words take a second to sink in, and when it does, it catches you completely off guard and you deflate like a popped balloon, you anger evaporating like mist under the sun. You squint up at the blonde, who you finally noticed was a lot closer than when you started this arguement. "What?"
His voice was soft this time around, all the fight having left him, too. "If you want flowers, just ask me. I'll buy you any flowers you want. Just-" He cut himself off with a sigh, closing his eyes. "Don't take someone else's flowers again. Please."
You looked at him, opening your mouth to snap at him but saw the sincere, the utterly vulnerable look in his eyes, and the breath was knocked from your lungs. You looked away, taking a few steps back as your heart twisted and you inhaled deeply to fill your lungs again. You noticed that Namjoon had left the kitchen. You didn't blame him.
A lengthy silence later, you finally looked at Jeongguk again, your hands trembling. "Is it really that important to you?"
"Yes." Jeongguk answered softly but firmly, no question in his voice, even as he looked down at the tiled floor.
"Okay." You nodded.
His eyes snapped to yours, and he echoed, "Okay?"
"Yeah, okay." You gave him a slow smile, then, just to break the heavy tension around you two, you said, "Just know that there is no backing out now and flowers are expensive. You aren't allowed to complain that I'm denting your bank account later."
"Deal." Jeongguk laughed, warmth spreading through his chest as the last of his jealousy faded.
* * *
"You know that one day you are going to have to talk about the feelings between you and Jeongguk, right?" Taehyung asked his sister later that night when they were laying in bed. He heard the story from Jimin, who heard it from Seokjin and Yoongi, who heard it from Hoseok, who heard it from Namjoon.
"What feelings?" You asked innocently.
Taehyung sighed in frustration but wasn't very surprised. The one thing that Taehyung has never been able to get out of his sister is the truth about her feelings for Jeongguk. But even without her saying anything, he knew. The eyes don't lie. "Denying it won't make it go away, Y/N."
You sighed, too, "Yeah, I know."
Taehyung didn't say anything for a few moments. This was the closest his sister ever gotten to admitting her feelings out loud, in seven years. "I'm here for you. Always."
"Thanks." You smiled, as if you didn't know that already.
* * *
Before you went home that Sunday, your brother told you that they were going on vacation as a group and you're invited because according to Taehyung, right after Jimin, you are the one person he can't live without. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics but agree to go with them none the less.
So, you put in a week's leave for two weeks from now and asked your brother where you would be going for this vacation. The answer was a secluded beach house where no one would be able to reach you.
And no phones was allowed.
You laughed a bit at that rule when you arrived at the house and saw that there is WiFi. Your brother was quick to remind everyone of the rule, telling them that the WiFi was only allowed to be used for YouTube and Netflix. Games was added to the list after an objection from Jeongguk and Seokjin.
"This is gonna go great." You laughed as walked up the stairs to pick a room. You get first choice after winning the rock, paper, scissors game in the car.
"Pick us a nice room, sis!" Taehyung shouted up after you.
There was only four rooms because the whole point of this vacation is to spend time together, which means that everyone was doubling up. They decided to pair up by age and it turned out - Seokjin and Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon, Jimin and Jeonguk, and naturally, you and Taehyung were paired up. (You tried not to think about the fact that if you kept to the age pairing that you and Jeongguk would've been sharing a room.) That lead to a lot of pouting from Jimin because he wanted to pair up with his soulmate.
"If your so eager to share a bed with him, why don't you marry him?" You remember teasing Jimin.
"Maybe I will." He shot back without thinking and you weren't sure who was redder once his words set in - Jimin or Taehyung.
You picked a room with a small balcony and a nice view of the ocean. The day passed peacefully, everyone full of energy but after dinner on the beach, everyone quickly retired to bed, the sea air getting to them.
You decided to watch the ocean a little while longer and Jeongguk joined you. Neither of you spoke as you sat on the sand, watching as the waves crashed on the shore, water retreating back into the vast expanse of ocean. It was captivating, in a kind of terrifying way but if there is one thing in your life you've never been scared of, it's water.
"Life is a lot like the ocean." You eventually said, breaking the silence between you.
"How so?"
"You can read about it in so many books, but you still won't know everything about it."
"That's deep." Jeongguk said, voice soft.
You shrugged, feeling a little self-conscious. "Yeah, well, I've never been a shallow person."
"I know." You saw him nodding out of the corner of your eyes. "You're a beautiful person. Inside and out." He said it so matter-of-factly, so sincerely, that your stomach flipped and your cheeks flushed.
"Thanks." You smiled over at him.
It was silent again, but just like the first silence, you didn't mind it. You like the comfortable quiet between you two. Finally, you sighed and pushed to your feet, "Come on, let's go inside."
"Okay." Jeongguk got to his feet and you walked the path home.
You walked on the side of the pool where you all swam earlier that day, and didn't notice the small puddle of water that hasn't dried yet and you slipped. You reached for Jeongguk but his hands missed yours by millimeters, so you just took a breath and resigned yourself to falling into the water. You didn't mind it all that much, nothing some towels couldn't fix.
When you surfaced, you saw a laughing Jeongguk on the side. An idea formed in your mind but you made sure to keep your expression neutral as you reached a hand out to him. "Give a girl a hand, please."
Jeongguk - nice, kind, unsuspecting Jeongguk - reached a helping hand out to you immediately, only realising your true intentions when you gave a forceful yank and pulled him into the pool.
When he surfaced, glaring at you - but there was no heat behind it, so it didn't count - you couldn't help but laugh heartily. "I forget how similar you and Taehyung-hyung really are sometimes."
"Sucks for you." You smirked. The smirk turned into spluttering when Jeongguk splashed water into your face. You looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Oh, you're on."
You splashed at each other like proper five year olds, giggling and everything. Finally you called a ceasefire before you woke up everyone inside.
You looked at Jeongguk, blonde hair dripping wet, droplets of water rolling down his tan skin, that little mole under his bottom lip that you've wanted to kiss so many times you've lost count and suddenly, all of your resolve broke down like a house of cards and your common sense shortcircuited. You surged forward and kissed him firmly, clutching at his shoulders to pull him close.
His lips were a little cold from the water but was still petal soft and you wondered what it would be like to kiss him everyday.
Your common sense returned a second later and you pulled away, almost loosing your footing and slipping. Your whole body was on fire and you couldn't look Jeongguk in the eyes. "Fuck. Shit, Jeongguk, I'm so, so sorry."
You turned away from him, every intention of getting out of this pool and hiding away until you die.
Only you didn't get anywhere before a strong hand circled your wrist in the one second and in the next second you found yourself pushed up against the wall of the swimming pool, barricaded in by a hand on each side of you. You looked up at Jeongguk and your mouth went dry at the sight of those dark eyes that made you shiver. His voice was low when he spoke, "I didn't get to kiss back."
Your eyes widened and that was all you had time to do before he leaned down to capture your lips. Your head told you to pull away. That this is a very bad idea. Your heart told you to kiss him back and make the most of it. You've been listening to your head for seven years, so you decided to listen to your heart for once and kissed Jeongguk back with years of pent up longing and yearning.
The kiss turn turned really hot, really fast.
Jeongguk hoisted you up and you quickly got with the program and wrapped your legs around his waist. Everywhere his hands touched, it left a blazing trail behind, causing you to shiver and erupt into goosebumps. Distantly you wondered how it was possible to feel so heated in cold water.
You kissed and kissed until your lungs burned, your toes curling as you squeezed as close to Jeongguk as possible. Finally, you couldn't take it anymore and you pulled away, both of you heaving lungfuls of air.
"So now what?" You asked him, when you regained some common sense and breathing didn't leave you breathless anymore.
"Well, right now I'd like to kiss you some more, but later on, I'd really like to take you out." Jeongguk told you bluntly and if you were standing, your legs would have given out.
"What?"
And just like that, gone was confident Jeongguk and back was shy Jeongguk. He ducked his head, adverting his eyes from yours. "If you want."
"Yeah, I want too." You told him, watching as his eyes glittered with happiness. You could relate.
Jeongguk was onto something with the kissing some more right now, though, so you pushed that away and you dived back in. Right now you were more interested in mapping the inside of Jeongguk's mouth and finding out what his skin tastes like than anything else in this world.
* * *
The next morning your brother squinted at you suspiciously from across the breakfast table. You were seated in between Jeongguk and Hoseok, across from Taehyung and Jimin. Namjoon sat next to Hoseok. Yoongi and Jin was busy making breakfast in the kitchen. The six of you were waiting patiently.
Finally you couldn't take the staring anymore. "Is there something on my face, Taehyung-oppa?"
"Something happened." Taehyung said, pointing the pair of chopsticks he was fiddling with at you.
You rose a brow, not surprised at all that your brother picked up on it. That doesn't mean you are going to make it easy for him. You put on an innocent face, "Really?"
"Yeah, Taehyung-ah is right, you're like-" Jimin agreed, waving his hands around as he searched for the right word. "...glowing."
"I am not glowing." You said indignantly. Out of the corner of your eyes, you caught a smirk lifting on Jeongguk's lips. You turned and narrowed your eyes at him, "You, stop looking so smug."
"What does Jeonggukie have to do with-" Taehyung cut himself off and you could see how he put the dots together. The look on his face was hilarious as he turned to Jeongguk with a fierce gaze, "Jeon Jeongguk, what have you done to my baby sister?"
Jeongguk, despite being bigger and stronger, still looked a bit terrified of Taehyung as he squeaked, "Nothing, hyung."
"Nothing, hyung. Hah! Do you take me for an idiot? Something happened. I know it did. What is it?"
You giggled and leaned over to Jeongguk and whispered in his ear, "Don't tell him anything. Watching him squirm and drawing his own conclusions, slowly going insane with curiousity will be much funnier than telling him the truth."
Jeongguk brightened at your suggestion and immediately nodded in agreement.
"What are you two whispering about?" Taehyung demanded, voice higher than normal, despite having the deepest voice of the lot. "Hobi-hyung, tell me what they're saying."
"Sorry, Taehyung-ah, I can't hear." Hoseok said with laughter in his tone.
Yoongi and Jin came in with the food before Taehyung could interrogate you further. Taehyung looked before you and Jeongguk, "This isn't over."
You laughed, looking forward to teasing your brother a bit, when suddenly a hand slipped into yours. You looked at Jeongguk, who was steadfastly avoiding your eyes. You noticed his red ears and smiled softly, twisting your hand so you could lace your fingers through his. As the two of you held hands under the table while eating breakfast, you felt giddy and more excited about the future than you have in a long time.
There was still a lot you and Jeongguk had to talk about, but that was for later. You had enough time to figure it all out. Together.
the end.
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firstofficerwiggles · 3 years
Text
Chapter 9: Not Without My Cyar’ika
Link to Chpt. 8, Link to Masterlist
Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader
Rating: M/E, 18+ only
Warnings: Canonical violence, death, SMUT, explicit description of unprotected sex (be safe in the real world please), mentions of the possibility of sexual assault (but NO sexual assault takes place in this fic)
Word count: ~10K
Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took such a long time to write, but I was at the end of my academic year and it was a tough one. You’ll see in this chapter there is a mention of cloaking technology, which I completely stole from Star Trek. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!
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“And so he has her now… I- I feel like I failed her, but I’m going to get her back,” Din has been conveying the unfortunate events of the last few hours to the Armorer over a holocall.
“You should return home to the tribe,” she replies, her voice even and calm, “You need the assistance of your aliit.” The soft blue glow of her image in the holo is somehow comforting to him. He knows she is correct; he needs the support.
“You’re right, I do,” Din acquiesces. He says goodbye to the Armorer with a promise to see her in a few hours. Even if it puts the Covert in danger again, he can’t rescue you alone, not against the forces that Kerrick has at his disposal. A soft coo sounds from the co-pilot’s seat and he looks over at his foundling. The little guy is looking at him with an almost hopeful smile, and Din reaches over to let the child sit in his lap cuddling him close. He tells himself that it’s for the child’s benefit, but deep down he knows he needs the comfort too.
As he makes his way back to the Covert, Din is greeted at the mouth of the cave by Paz and another warrior. Both nod to him gravely, clearly having been briefed by the Armorer of the situation.
“We will stand with you, vod,” Paz states, and the other Mandalorian punctuates this with more nodding, “We should have insisted on mounting an attack on this Commander Hoven from the start.” Paz says Kerrick’s name as though the taste of it is foul in his mouth.
“I appreciate your willingness, and I’m ready to accept your help,” Din admits. His reluctance to take advantage of his tribe’s assistance and his feelings of guilt over Nevarro have evaporated in the face of his need to save you.
“The Armorer said your woman willingly sacrificed her freedom to save you and the child; that shows real bravery,” the other Mandalorian speaks about you with respect. He has black armor and Din recalls that he is called Throm. He continues on to say, “My riduur, Mirmim, became close to her while she was here and it would be my honor to help you with the rescue. Also, Mirmim has offered to care for your foundling while we carry out the mission.”
“Thank you,” Din says appreciatively, “That means a lot.”
Din follows Paz and Throm into the main area of the cavern where almost all of the other tribe members are gathered. Everyone grows quiet as they enter.
“Din Djarin, we are sorry to see you again under these circumstances. We have discussed the need to rescue your woman, and we have decided to send our best warriors with you,” the Armorer greets him in her calming yet authoritative voice, “I will also be accompanying you.”
“Thank you all, I am honored and humbled by your support,” Din replies sincerely.
“The warriors will meet now to formulate our best plan of attack,” the Armorer states.
A woman in pink armor comes up to Din first, before he can join the others. He recognizes her as your friend and as she greets Throm too, it’s clear that she is his riduur. “I can take care of your foundling while you attend the meeting,” she says with her arms outstretched for the little guy.
“You must be Mirmim; Throm said you were willing to care for him while we’re away… while we get her back,” Din says, his voice catching a little. His emotions are so close to the surface right now as he tries not to think about what could be happening to you. He hands Mirmim the child and gives the little one a small pat on the head as he settles into her arms.
“You must have faith. You will rescue her and your tribe, our tribe, will help you succeed. This is the way,” Mirmim reassures him.
“This is the way,” Din tries to sound confident but still he knows that Kerrick has a powerful and well-protected ship and many troopers. They’re going to need a very solid plan.
This is the first point he raises in the warriors’ discussion, “Hoven has a light cruiser with turret-mounted twin light turbolasers, port and starboard quad laser cannons, missile launchers and likely concussion missiles. Not to mention he has at least a squadron of 30 storm troopers aboard, possibly more, not to mention other officers who are likely under his command.”
“We have 16 warriors, and we all know that storm troopers can’t aim for shit, so I’m sure we can take ‘em,” a man in orange armor says confidently. He’s a younger man from the other tribe and Din knows he means well, but he needs more than cocky bravado right now.
“Din Djarin, has an excellent point though that we do not know the total number of fighters,” the Armorer says, quieting the boastfulness of the warrior, “We would be better to find additional warriors.”
“I have an idea about that,” Din says, “I want to ask the Mistresses from Angel One. I’ve seen their warriors in action and I believe they would be willing to help, although their old leader was in league with Hoven, the others were not. Plus I know we made quite the impression there… she made quite the impression there.”
“You should contact them at once,” the Armorer nods her approval.
“I also have another person I need to contact; someone who I think can get us into Hoven’s ship undetected.”
“You don’t think we can take them on in a true battle?” Someone asks.
“No, I don’t. We don’t have enough ships to take on that kind of firepower in a ship-to-ship fight,” Din explains, “I believe our best option is a sneak attack. If we can be aboard another ship that docks with Hoven’s cruiser, we can do maximum damage from inside the ship.”
“Yes, but how do we convince Hoven to let this other ship dock with him?” Paz raises an important question.
“We need to offer him something he wants, something that could make him more powerful,” Din answers, “Hence, why I need to reach out to my other contact.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Looking out into space from the comfort of your bed on Kerrick’s cruiser, you sigh and wipe at your teary eyes. It’s only been a day since you were forced to part from Din and the child, but you feel like you’ve spent an eternity crying wretchedly into your blankets. Fortunately so far you’ve managed to put Kerrick off from wanting to be with you and mostly you’ve been left to your own miserable devices. You think back to yesterday and give yourself a small pat on the back for accomplishing this small victory.
As Kerrick dragged you onto his ship, you felt yourself becoming increasingly worried for Din and the child, as you knew they wouldn’t have been able to get away without a fight. You repeated to yourself that Din was more than capable of getting out of a jam, but it didn’t stop you from worrying. You were feeling positively nauseated at the negative ideas running through your head. Not to mention, every time Kerrick leered at you over his shoulder, you felt your stomach flip in an unpleasant manner. It worked out to your favor, however, because once you were at the entrance to Kerrick’s personal quarters, you managed to vomit spectacularly all over his floor and boots. He was instantly repulsed and it put a stop to any romantic notions he had cooked up for your reunion. With a look of disgust, he had a storm trooper haul you away to your own quarters for the night. Since then you’ve been left almost completely alone, except when another trooper came by to bring you some soup. You’re grateful to have had the time to think, as well as cry, because at least now you’ve come up with a plan to keep Kerrick at arm’s length at least for a little while.
A crisp knock sounds at your door, but apparently it was only perfunctory as the door swishes open to reveal Kerrick, who clearly doesn’t think he needs to be invited in to your space.
“So, my doll, I hope you’re feeling better today,” Kerrick looks you over as you sit up on the bed. He takes in your disheveled appearance and tear-stained face. You’ve done absolutely nothing to make yourself look pulled together in any way and you can see by his expression that you must look rather awful. He grimaces at you before saying condescendingly, “I see that you must still be sick, or else living with that Mandalorian has caused you to forget all about personal grooming?”
“I’m still not feeling well,” you sigh and clutch your stomach dramatically, “I’ve started my period and the cramps hurt so bad. It’s making me feel so bloated and nauseous.” This is a lie, but you remember that Kerrick is one of those asshole men who thinks everything about menstrual cycles is disgusting. He never wanted to touch you at that time of the month back when you were dating and you’re praying the same is true now.
“Ick, did you have to tell me that?” He recoils from you in horror and you almost laugh out loud at his reaction. “You know I don’t need to hear details about any of that. Ever.” He backs up towards your door looking as though he can’t wait to be gone from your presence.
“I’ll have someone send in some new clothes for you at least,” he says with a frown, “I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”
“It might be as long as a week,” you say trying to sound as pathetic as possible, but any extra time you can gain will be helpful so you can figure out an escape plan. Or maybe it will give Din time to rescue me? Your thoughts are hopeful that Din will come after you but at the same time you try not to get too excited about the possibility because how in the galaxy is he supposed to find you? And how will he fight his way on to this heavily protected ship? No, it’s best that he doesn’t put himself in danger like that; you will just need to keep working on a plan to get yourself out of this mess.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Din waits as the holocall works to connect to Eira on Angel One. He’s hoping the friendship you were able to build with her will be strong enough to garner her assistance in his mission to rescue you. When Eira’s blueish image appears, he’s bolstered by the smile and warm greeting she gives him.
“Mistress Eira, I wish I were contacting you under better circumstances,” Din explains, “Your warning was helpful, but ultimately we were unlucky. Hoven has her, he caught us in a trap.” He has to pause here to collect his thoughts because his anger and shame at begin tricked by Kerrick is still so raw. Before he can continue though, Eira is speaking.
“We will help you rescue the princess,” Eira pledges solemnly. “That man would never have known how to find her if it weren’t for the treachery of Mistress Sigrid. You must allow us to send warriors to assist you so that we can repay our debt to her and to you.”
“I’m so grateful to hear you say that, Mistress,” Din responds, “It’s why I was contacting you, I was hopeful you’d be willing to help me… to help us.”
“I know you were only here for a few days, but the princess left a lasting impression on many of us,” Eira tells him, “Both of you have helped us see that perhaps our society could be more open to outsiders.”
“Mistress Eira, I do need to tell you one thing, she… she isn’t really a princess, we only said that to make us seem more important so we would be welcome on Angel One,” Din feels sheepish admitting the lie and hopes she won’t rescind her offer. He continues to explain, “It’s just… we were trying to protect our foundling; he’s very special and we needed a safe place to stay for a few days.”
“You lied to protect the child?” Eira clarifies.
“Yes, and I’m sorry we had to deceive you like that,” Din apologizes.
“It was for a noble cause, I understand your reasons,” Eira sounds satisfied, “Now let’s discuss how we’re going to help you get your princess back.”
“She isn’t a princess,” Din repeats.
“She always will be to me,” Eira says with a smile.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’re quietly making your way through the corridors of Kerrick’s cruiser trying to find your way to Engineering. Your plan has been working wonderfully and Kerrick has stayed far away from you. The first few times you ventured out of your room, no one said anything to you and they seemed to pretty much think it was normal to see you walking around. As you seemed to be granted free access to the ship, it occurred to you that perhaps you could find small ways to weaken the ship as a way to assist you in a possible escape. The first thing you did was check to see if your old access codes would still work at one of the workstations. Fortunately, they did. Same old lazy Empire, they never thought to delete anyone from their system because it would be too much work to keep those types of records. You knew you couldn’t make your sabotage too obvious or you’d be caught right away, but if you could do small things that could be brushed off as typical problems you would be able to create a whole host of annoyances.
You started with changing the lighting cycles in the barracks. The lights were designed to automatically turn off and on at certain hours for sleeping, but you managed to get in and change it up so that lights would randomly turn off and on at all hours of the day and night ensuring that none of the storm troopers could get more than a couple hours of uninterrupted sleep. Of course you locked your new lighting program with an extremely secure password so you knew it would be hard to fix.
Next you made your way to the officers’ mess hall, and while no one was around, you dismantled the caf machine and dumped several of the parts into the trash compactor. You remembered how strong the caffeine additions always were amongst the officers and now they’d need to go to the troopers’ mess if they wanted caf. In many cases this would mean they’d have to be far from their posts and stations would be left unmanned, opening up more opportunities for your little acts of defiance.
The destruction of the caf machine was why you were headed to Engineering right now. You had overheard the head Engineer and his assistant talking about working on the caf machine today because they were sick of having to go to the troopers’ mess. So you figured there was a chance you could do a little bit of damage in Engineering while they were away from their posts. You’ve just poked your head into the Engineering bay to have a look around when a lieutenant commander spots you. Damn!
“Hello, what are you doing down here? I thought you’d be in your room resting,” He speaks to you pleasantly and you realize you know him; he’s a former student of yours from the Sy Bisti class.
“Lieutenant Commander Roth, I didn’t know you were here. It’s so nice to see you again,” you force a polite smile onto your face.
He chuckles warmly, “Please, call me Sergio, and I’m sure it isn’t all that great to see me, but I’m enjoying seeing your pretty face again.”
“No, it really is good to see you, Sergio,” you tell him, sounding a bit more truthful this time. Honestly, he was one student you didn’t mind so much. You remembered him as a cheerful and handsome scoundrel, who was always kind to you. He never seemed too overly indoctrinated like the rest of the officers and although he had morally ambiguous air about him, he didn’t seem as truly evil as the rest of the officers you had known. Although he’s a little older now, he still has that attractive rascal look about him.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Sergio smirks at you, “What are you doing down here?”
“I’m lost,” you say trying to think of where you could say you intended to go.
“No, you’re not,” Sergio smiles as he sees right through your lie, “I think you’re right where you want to be.”
“Why would you think that?” You give him your best wide-eyed innocent look and blink up at him.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he laughs, “I know you’re much too smart to be anywhere but where you planned to be. That idiot Kerrick doesn’t give you enough credit.” There’s no malice in his laughter and he seems genuinely amused by your lie.
“Maybe I was looking for you?” You venture.
“Ha, that’s rich, you didn’t know I was here,” Sergio is very amused, “It’s ok, I think what you’re doing is brilliant and maybe I’d like to help you.”
“What do you mean?” You don’t know what to think, so playing dumb seems like the best option.
“There’s only one person I know who could have locked that lighting pattern with such a great password that no one else can figure it out.” Sergio looks at you pointedly, “After all, isn’t a password just a mini code?”
“Oh” You look down at your shoes, not sure what to say to that.
“Don’t look so disappointed! I’m not going to say anything,” he tells you sincerely, “I’d rather help you.”
“Are you serious, Sergio?” Could it be that you have a friend here somehow?
“Look, I know I’ve made shitty decisions with my life. I should have left the Empire years ago, it was a mistake to get involved in the first place,” Sergio sighs, “But I just sort of fell into this and the next thing I knew I had a little bit of power and I liked it. It’s a terrible excuse and I should have turned myself in to the New Republic years ago. But I’ve never been good at handling the consequences. I’m way too pretty for jail.” He says this last part with a small wink and a self-depreciating chuckle.
“You really won’t say anything to Kerrick?” You ask him.
“No, that weirdo doesn’t deserve you,” he says, “And I don’t know, maybe if I help you, I can redeem a part of myself in some small way.”
“Do you think you could help me escape? Could you fly one of the Tie Fighters?” You know it’s a lot to ask but you have to try.
“I’m sorry, but I think we’d just get caught right away, it’s too risky,” he responds, but there’s a sincerity to his voice so you feel that he’s being honest with you.
“Ok, so maybe we could mess up something here? I was thinking maybe the tractor beam?” If Din does manage to mount a rescue you’ll still be able to get away if the tractor beam is out of service.
“Sounds like fun.” He gives you a cocky little smirk and leads you over to the right workstation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Din leads a group of his fellow Mandalorians into an office building on Canto Bight with a shining plaque that reads “DeWitt Systems”. A receptionist stands up immediately when she sees the intimidating group enter the foyer and with a shaky smile she greets them.
“Welcome, Mr. Mando and um, guests,” she tries to be as polite as possible but doesn’t seem to know how to address anyone. Paz snickers a little at Mr. Mando but Din quickly shushes him. He thinks to himself that it’s a good thing half the group decided to stay behind on the Crest. She attempts to smile at everyone, as she gestures down a hallway, “Mr. DeWitt is waiting for you in the conference room; let me show you the way.”
“Mando, I’d say it’s good to see you again, but that isn’t the case under these circumstances,” Eugene is there looking sharp in a new suit. He moves forward to shake Din’s hand.
“Eugene,” Din returns the handshake and gives him a nod in greeting, “Thank you again for agreeing to be part of this rescue.”
“I’m happy to help in any way that I can, Mando,” Eugene says earnestly, “After my evening with your charming companion and you my business has skyrocketed, so I’ll do anything I can do to help her.”
Din nods again. When he spoke to Eugene earlier, he was worried that the man might not want to get involved in this type of risky undertaking, but blessedly you had made quite a lasting impression on him and he agreed to lend a hand almost at once.
“Have you finalized the idea to entice Hoven and get us aboard his ship?” Din asks.
“I think I’ve got something brilliant, not to brag, but I think it will definitely get us a meeting with Hoven,” Eugene is confident and he brings up a holoscreen. “I’ve come up with a mock-up of a cloaking device for a starship. The idea is that it can make a ship become virtually undetectable to scanners of all types.” Eugene shows a brief demonstration on the holoscreen of this technology. It shows a complicated series of mathematical symbols and equations and a diagram of a ship that vanishes when Eugene clicks a few buttons.
“That’s incredible, does it really work?” Paz wants to know.
“Not really, I can make it look like it works for about 5 minutes, but that’s all,” Eugene says, “However, it sounds really realistic and my tech mock-up is convincing enough that I think Hoven’ll be interested. If we get an invitation to meet his ship, I’ll be able to make us look ‘cloaked’ for just long enough for him to think the tech is real, but it’ll just be a ruse.”
“We’re getting that invite; Hoven won’t be able to resist tech like this,” Din states, “This is really great work, Eugene.”
“I have even more great news for you,” Eugene smiles looking rather proud of himself, “Do you remember the casino owner, Mr. Belvers? He’s going to lend us a ship. He was so impressed with the two of you from the party, you especially, Mando, and I happened to see him right after our call. When I told him about the trouble you were in, he was eager to be able to help out too.”
“Eugene, you’re more resourceful than I realized, thank you again,” Din is humbled and very grateful for the assistance. He remembers how jealous he felt over Eugene back when you all first met and he thinks about how much it bugged him that Eugene was so enthralled by you. Now that jealousy seems rather ridiculous and petty, and Din’s thankful that Eugene isn’t holding any of that against him.
After some additional discussion, they decide to leave the Razor Crest on Canto Bight and take Belvers’ ship which turns out to be a luxury cruiser. It’s smaller than Kerrick’s but large enough that it can easily transport the Mandalorians and the Angel One warriors. It’s flashy enough to be impressive but it’s not going to be seen as a threat in any fashion by Kerrick. Plus, without the Razor Crest, there’s no way for Kerrick to have any inkling that Din is coming for you.
“Alright, we’re ready for you to make the call to Hoven,” Din instructs Eugene.
“Let’s try and sell a cloaking device,” Eugene says enthusiastically.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You’ve managed to keep Kerrick away from you for three days, but when a new dress showed up at your door with your breakfast this morning, you figured your reprieve from him was about to end. Reluctantly you pull on the dress, and try to prepare yourself for a difficult day. Sure enough, shortly after you’ve given yourself a little pep talk to psych yourself up for having to deal with Kerrick, you hear your door swish open. Not even bothering to knock anymore.
“Baby doll? Did you get the new dress?” Kerrick’s head pops into the fresher where you are fixing your hair.
“I did, thank you, Kerrick,” you give him a bland smile.
“Excellent! I know you’re still, ahem, untouchable, for a few days,” Kerrick says with a slight look of disgust, “But you can keep me company on the bridge for at least a few hours, surely?” He gives you a creepy smile that turns your stomach, but you know you need to do this to keep him calm.
“Of course, Kerrick, that sounds nice. I’d like to see you while you work.” You do your best to bat your lashes at him and then say, “I always thought you were a natural leader.” To make it through this, you figure your best option is to just compliment him as much as possible.
“Oh, yes, I think you’ll see I was born to be in charge,” Kerrick replies smugly and holds out his arm pointedly for you. You gently loop your own arm through his and let him lead you out into the corridor. When he reaches over to pat your hand you try not to flinch away, but he notices your discomfort.
“Don’t worry, my doll, you don’t need to be nervous, everyone will like you,” he lets out a small laugh as he says, “And if they don’t, well, they’re all expendable.”
You let out a nervous laugh at that comment, and hope to Maker that he is making a joke, but something tells you that he might actually mean it and you pray that you can stay as inconspicuous as possible. Even though these people have given their allegiance to a terrible organization, you don’t want anyone to get hurt, or worse, because of you.
Kerrick leads you to the bridge and then proceeds to give you an extended tour of the area, being sure to tell you how crucial and important he is at every opportunity. He’s such a braggart, you don’t know how his crew put up with it, frankly, and you’re surprised no one has attempted a mutiny yet. Then Kerrick begins telling you of some of his greatest accomplishments with the Empire. Each story is horrific and you feel sickened again by what he has become. He’s finishing up a tale of how he used his superior language skills to successfully trick a village chieftain on the planet Morak into giving up a major portion of his tribe’s land to the Empire so they could mine rhydonium and you can’t hold your tongue any longer.
“Kerrick, weren’t you ever worried that your actions could have serious consequences? I mean, look at what you just told me. Rhydonium is incredibly unstable and I’m sure that mining it must have put all of those people at serious risk.” You want to say so much more, but you try to reign yourself in so that you don’t anger him.
“Why do you care about a bunch of smelly villagers on Morak? They’re so beneath us, baby doll.” Kerrick sneers and then laughs, “You have such a soft heart, but that’s ok, you can use it to worry about me. I’m the only one you should care about. Why don’t you give me a little kiss? Show me how much you care.”
He grips your chin and you know you can’t avoid it, so you lean in and kiss him, but thankfully you’re spared from too much because the sound of a holocall is dinging loudly. Kerrick lets out an exasperated sigh, before answering with a slightly disgruntled greeting.
“Good morning, Commander Hoven, I am Eugene DeWitt of DeWitt Systems. Please excuse my directness in calling you without an introduction, but I believe I have an excellent opportunity for you. One of my other clients, a Commander Pershing, recommended I speak with you.” You hold in a gasp when you see the blue glow of Eugene’s face displayed and you know that this can’t be a coincidence. You carefully move closer to Kerrick so that the holo will be able to pick up your image too.
“Oh? What is this opportunity, Mr. DeWitt?” Kerrick seems rather bored but the mention of Commander Pershing is enough to have him a little curious.
“Oh, I’m certain you will be interested in ship cloaking technology,” Eugene says with a small flourish, “You see I run a technology firm that specializes in cutting-edge innovations. With my program, your ship can become undetectable to scanners of all kinds, especially those used by the New Republic.” Eugene gives a small nod and then seems to make eye contact with you for just a moment. Your heart fills with hope that Din must be involved in this call. Your attention snaps back to Kerrick though as he answers Eugene.
“Well, now I am intrigued, Mr. DeWitt,” Kerrick’s eyes grow wide at the prospect of this new technology and you can almost see the evil gears grinding in his head thinking of how useful a tool it would be. “But how do I know if it really works? Are you willing to offer a display of some type?”
“Yes, absolutely, Commander Hoven, I am prepared to come to you as soon as possible to demonstrate the immense capability of this unique technology.” Eugene gives Kerrick his best salesman smile as he launches into a description of the tech and displays several fancy charts and equations. Before you know it, Kerrick is sharing his ship’s coordinates with Kerrick and setting a time for a meeting tomorrow. You keep a placid look on your face but inside you are bursting with excitement. This has to be Din, he must be coming for you. If Din has gone back to enlist Eugene’s help, he must have formulated a rescue plan. Now it’s up to you to figure out what you can do here to make the rescue successful.
Kerrick finishes making plans to meet with Eugene and then he turns to you and grabs your hand pulling you in closer to him as he says, “You see my doll, I’m an important man now, one that other men respect. While all those fools think the Empire is dead, I’m here in the heart of it all making us stronger than ever. Just think, we’ll be able to traverse this galaxy virtually invisible to the New Republic scum!” Kerrick’s eyes light up as he gives you this speech and you can see that no shred of the man you once knew remains. The young man who shared your love of languages and the world of academia, the man who was once funny and charming, the man to whom you once gave your heart freely is completely gone as surely as if he died or rather was killed by this new Commander Hoven. You can’t help but let this sad realization show on your face.
“Oh, don’t be sad, I won’t forget about you, my beautiful doll. You’ll be right there with me, supporting me,” Kerrick says with an indulgent grin, “A strong, powerful man needs to have a pretty woman behind him, or rather, underneath him.” He laughs at his own bawdy joke and you manage a weak giggle that seems to placate him. It’s about all you can manage as his misogyny is making you want to punch him, but that won’t help your situation.
“I’m afraid all this excitement of being with you has me feeling a bit lightheaded,” you tell Kerrick, “I think perhaps I should return to my room to rest for a bit.” You’re not sure if he’ll buy this, but he sees you as weak anyway and you clutch your brow dramatically for effect.
“So soon? But we’re having such a nice time, and I prefer to have you here with me,” Kerrick says pouting.
“Commander, we need your approval over here,” another officer is requesting Kerrick’s presence.
“You have so much important work to do,” you simper at him, “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”
“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” Kerrick says considering you, “I’ll see you in a few hours and we can have lunch together.” You nod to him and move to pull your hand out of his grasp, but instead he yanks you back to him hard and forces you into a kiss. You remind yourself not to struggle and just hope it will be over soon. “There you go, have a nice nap, baby doll.”
You hurry out of the bridge area as soon as he releases you and when you’re certain you’re alone you wipe your mouth in disgust. Oh, Din, please be with Eugene when he comes tomorrow. You’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to hold off Kerrick and his amorous advances. In hopes that tomorrow really will bring a rescue, you wonder if you can rearrange the storm trooper work shifts somehow. Since you heard all the details of the meeting, you know precisely when Eugene’s ship is scheduled to arrive and wouldn’t it be convenient if somehow there were a lot fewer troopers on duty then?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Din looks out at hyperspace from the pilot’s seat of the luxury cruiser. After a quick stop on Angel One, the rescue party is now complete and the atmosphere aboard the ship is rather jovial despite the danger of the upcoming mission. The Mandalorians and Angel One warriors have bonded quickly as they speak about the chance at a good fight with each group eager to show off their skills. Eugene is also in high spirits having perfected the way to temporarily mask their ship from Kerrick’s scanners when they arrive at the designated coordinates. It will only last for a few minutes, but it will give off the impression that the cloaking technology really works. If all goes well, Din plans to see if Eugene can rig up something similar in the Crest since it could come in handy at times. Who knows, maybe Eugene really will invent starship cloaking someday.
Din tries not to look at the time and count the minutes until he reaches you. Once the first phase of the plan was complete, he’s been impatient to get to this next step. When Eugene told him that he saw you in the holocall, and that you looked safe, he was filled with relief but also worry knowing that it meant that Kerrick was keeping you close to him. Din knows that you are smart and will do whatever you can to keep yourself safe, but at the same time he knows what Kerrick wants from you. He can’t let himself think about that right now though or the anger will consume him.  
As if sensing that Din needs someone to speak to, the Armorer joins Din in the cockpit. “You have amassed a good team; I believe we will be formidable against the enemy,” she tells him sagely.
“Thank you for agreeing to be part of it,” Din replies; he’s still honored that she has chosen to accompany him on this rescue.
“You are right to be worried for her, she is surrounded by dangerous men,” the Armorer says, “But, remember, she was amongst such dangerous men before and she survived.”
“I know she did, but this time she may have to… he might force her…” Din can’t bring himself to say it aloud, and just the thoughts that swirl in his head are enough to fill his stomach with a deep, burning ire.
“You must not let your thoughts dwell on what might happen,” the Armorer advises him, “Your woman is intelligent and resourceful, and we do not know what she will or will not need to do.”
“I know you are right, but in my head I keep replaying the moment I saw him force her into a kiss and then I think the worst,” Din’s voice is dark and angry now.
“I understand, but you must channel your anger into your strength, focus it as a weapon to use against this man,” the Armorer instructs him, “Do not let it overwhelm you and cause you to be foolhardy in your attack.”
Din nods in agreement, “You are correct, as always.”
The Armorer pats his pauldron in response. It’s a small gesture but one that is full of meaning. He thinks again about how grateful he is to have her support and the support of everyone on board. He also knows that she is right, he must maintain his focus.
An alarm dings from the ship’s console alerting Din and the Armorer that they are closing in on Kerrick’s ship. Eugene hurries in to activate his tech virtually hiding them for the few minutes before they reach the meeting spot.
“Tell everyone this is it,” Din tells the Armorer, “We’re getting her back.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You’re certain the shift changes worked?” you whisper your question to Sergio as you’re standing on the docking platform. Kerrick has arranged a welcome party to greet his guest and you’ve been able to have a few minutes to speak to Sergio while there. There are still several storm troopers here and you’re concerned that Din won’t be able to handle so many.
“Yes, I went by the barracks just before arriving here and there are way more troopers off duty than there should be,” he tells you in a low voice.
“Good.” Yesterday while you were supposed to be napping, Sergio helped you mess up the storm troopers’ shifts so that only a skeleton crew would be at work now.
“I also decided that neither the main guns nor any of the missiles needed to be online today,” Sergio shrugs like this is no big deal while you look at him with surprise.
“Thank you,” you say, grateful for his help.
“Just remember this if I ever need you to testify at my trial,” he chuckles.
“What are you laughing about, Roth?” Kerrick has taken notice of you both and he looks annoyed.
“Lieutenant Commander Roth was reminding me about my language lessons and some of the funny pronunciation exercises I made the class do,” you lie smoothly.
“Yes, she had us doing these silly sound drills that made us all sound like a bunch of hissing serpents,” Sergio laughs again.
“Well, if you’re done with your trip down memory lane, perhaps you could tell me if you see Mr. DeWitt’s ship on our scanners?” Kerrick gives the command with a frown.
“There is nothing reading on our scanners,” Sergio responds promptly.
“Well, either his tech really does work, or he’s late,” Kerrick states.
“Commander Hoven, sir, there is a holocall for you,” an ensign brings over a holopad with Eugene’s image.
“Mr. DeWitt,” Kerrick says in greeting.
“Do your sensors detect us, Commander Hoven?” Eugene asks with a smile.
“No, are you sure you are in range?” Kerrick asks.
“How about now?” Eugene smirks.
“Sir, there is a ship just off our port side, it appeared out of nowhere,” Sergio sounds surprised and bit impressed.
“Well done, Mr. DeWitt,” Kerrick seems pleased, “Let’s proceed with docking and then you can come aboard to show me more about this incredible new tech you’ve created.”
You’re watching the docking mechanism intently, looking for any sign that this is more than just a strange coincidence. Suddenly a plasma bolt fires down the docking tunnel taking out a storm trooper. For a moment there is merely stunned silence around you until more bolts come hurtling in the direction of the troopers.
“What the fuck!” Kerrick exclaims as a total melee ensues.
You dive for cover while silently cheering inside. You take a peek and see the gleam of beskar helmets. Din is here and he’s brought plenty of help with him! Another quick glance shows you Mandalorian and Angel One warriors working together, fighting against the Imps. Although your first instinct is to run straight for Din, you don’t want to get caught in the crossfire, so you force yourself to stay where you are. Your hiding place isn’t very secure though and abruptly Kerrick is there grabbing at you and forcing you to your feet.
“Get up, you bitch,” he snaps at you, “This is all your fault.”
“Let go of me!” you yell back, but he’s too strong for you and he yanks you after him. You scream as loud as you can and try to kick and break free of his hold.
Din hears you scream and it immediately draws his attention across the fighting in time to see Kerrick drag you out of the area and down a corridor. He quickly moves to pursue you, kicking a trooper in the stomach and shooting another in the neck as he follows after you. Both Eira and the Armorer hear your scream too and quickly trail after Din, shooting a path to do so.
Neither you nor Kerrick are anywhere to be seen in the corridor, but this is no problem for Din as he brings up a tracking program on his vambrace.
“What’s that?” Eira asks
“I put tracking devices in her shoes,” Din responds, leading the three of them forward as he follows the signal.
“A smart idea,” the Armorer replies as Eira looks mildly shocked.
They continue down the corridor, weapons at the ready. As they encounter a few troopers, the trio easily dispatches them. They pass a sign indicating the location of escape pods and Din breaks out into a sprint; there’s no way he’s letting Kerrick get you off this ship.
Kerrick is pulling on your arm so hard you’re afraid he’s going to dislocate your shoulder. He’s got you at the escape pods now in a desperate attempt to get away with you. As soon as he starts to force you into one, you start fighting harder. You remember the fighting techniques from Din’s training and you manage to land a sharp kick to Kerrick’s shin.
“What the kriffing hell is the matter with you?” He yells at you in pain. You try to kick him again, but he slaps you hard across the face. The shock and the sting of the blow makes you stumble. But then you’re struggling against him again, hitting him in the side with your free fist and then whacking him hard in the face.
“Oof! Fuck! Stop it!” He slaps you again, harder this time and you feel your face throbbing.
“That is enough! Don’t you ever do something stupid like that again or you’ll regret it,” Kerrick threatens you and then brandishes a blaster in your face. The fact that he might actually shoot you makes you stop struggling.
“Please, Kerrick, please, you don’t have to do that,” you say your voice trembling.
“I won’t have to hurt you unless you keep acting so fucking stupid,” he snaps back. He still has the blaster pointed at your face and you’re afraid to even move now.
“I’ll do what you want, you can lower the blaster,” you try to make your voice soft and sweet in an attempt to calm him. His eyes are wild and he looks unhinged.
“That’s right you’re going to do what I want,” Kerrick says menacingly, “Because you’re mine, he doesn’t get to have you, and you’re going to keep doing what I want for the rest--”
But Kerrick never gets to finish that threat. Instead you watch as a bolt hits him square in the temple and he collapses dead at your feet. You jump back in horror and shock as it happens, but then you turn and see Din with his blaster still aimed from where he shot Kerrick. You feel nothing but utter relief and before you can think, you are running at him and launching yourself into his arms.
Din catches you and embraces you tightly, never wanting to let you go again. He feels like his heart is going to burst from the joy of holding you again.
“You came for me, I knew you would, I knew when Eugene called it had to be you, I just knew it,” You’re babbling you’re so happy that he’s here, that he’s really here holding you. “Oh, but I’m so sorry for the awful things I had to say, I didn’t mean any of them, you have to know that, I didn’t mean it at all, I love you, only you, Din.”
“I love you too and I’m so sorry, cyar’ika, so sorry that I couldn’t protect you better, I can’t believe I fell for his trap, I won’t ever let that happen again,” Din is babbling too in his elation at rescuing you. He pulls back a little to look at you and raises a hand to cup your injured face. “I’m so sorry he hurt you, I’m sorry I wasn’t here to stop it.”
“It wasn’t your fault, Din,” you tell him, “You protected me now, and you rescued me.”
“Well, technically we’re still in the middle of rescuing you, so maybe you two lovebirds can save the happy reunion until we’re out of here,” Eira pipes up.
“Oh, right,” you reply sheepishly.
“Come, we should return to the ship before more Imperials arrive,” the Armorer motions to you both.
Your group hurries back in the direction of the docking platform and you meet up with more of Din’s group. It’s a mix of Mandalorians that you met from the Covert and warrior women from Angel One. You’re so humbled that they came to fight for you.
“I can’t believe we haven’t seen more troopers than this,” Paz speaks up.
“I made sure a lot of them would be off duty now,” you say with a grin.
“You did?” Din sounds impressed.
“Yeah, I tried to do a little sabotage here and there where I could,” you tell him, “By the way, the tractor beam, main guns, and missiles are disengaged right now too.”
“You’re so smart.” You can hear the admiration in his voice as he praises you.
“I was lucky to have some help,” you demure wondering what has happened to Sergio.
When you are back at the docking platform you can see the resounding defeat of Kerrick’s troops. You glance around looking for Sergio; despite his allegiance to the Empire, you hope he isn’t hurt or worse. You don’t see him and so you hope he got away. You don’t have time to dwell on his fate however and you quickly head for the docking tunnel with Din and the others. When you reach the other ship, you see Eugene’s relieved face and you cheerfully hug him in greeting.
“Eugene! Thank you, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence when you called,” you tell him excitedly.
“I had to help, as soon as Mando told me you were in trouble,” he replies.
You feel the ship jolt and know that someone has put you into hyperspace and you breathe a huge sigh of relief and joy. Then suddenly you are surrounded by well-wishers as everyone tries to hug you or shake your hand in celebration of a successful rescue. Eira even picks you up as she hugs you tight. Someone brings you some bacta cream for your face and you wonder if you need it more to help relieve the bruises left by Kerrick or to soothe your aching muscles from all the smiling. Finally, when it seems as if you have been congratulated by everyone, Din is there taking your hand and leading you away from the celebrating crowd. He takes you into some sleeping quarters on the ship. It’s a beautiful room, but you don’t spend time looking around because all you want to see is him.
“Cyar’ika, I’m so sorry,” Din apologizes again, still feeling guilty over not being able to protect you from Kerrick.
“Oh Din, no, you don’t have to apologize,” you tell him, “I’m the one who needs to apologize to you. I said those hateful things--”
Din interrupts, “No, cyar’ika, I know you didn’t mean them, you- you just did what you had to do.”
“Yes, I only said those awful things to save you and the child. Oh my goodness, the child! Is he alright? Where is he?” You realize that you didn’t see him with everyone.
“He’s safe, he’s at the Covert being looked after by your friend with the pink armor,” Din reassures you.
“Thank the Maker! I was so worried for you both when I was forced to leave with Kerrick,” you say.
Din looks away for a moment when you say that, when he looks back at you, he says your name softly, almost like he’s trying to ask you a question but can’t find the words.
“Din?” You say his name prompting him to speak to you, to tell you his thoughts.
“Did he force you to… did he force himself on you?” Din asks and you can hear the horror in his voice at this possibility.
“No, no Din, he didn’t,” you assure him, “I was forced to kiss him a few times, but that was it. I lied and told him I was having my period and that was enough to keep him away from me. He always was disgusted by menstrual cycles.”
Din lets out a huge sigh of relief and pulls you close to him, as he tells you, “I’m so thankful to hear that, the thoughts I’ve had about what he wanted from you, about what he might have made you do… it was making me sick and I just, I--”
“I understand, my darling, but you don’t have to worry any more, I’m fine and we never have to worry about him again. You made sure of that for me.” Your voice cracks as you speak and you reach up to pull his helmet down to you to meet your forehead in a Keldabe kiss. Tears stream down your cheeks as you hold him to you. Din pulls off his gloves so he can reach up with his bare hands to cradle your face. You listen to his breathing and you can’t be fully certain, but you think he may be crying a little too.
“I love you so much, cyar’ika, I never want to let you go,” Din’s voice is thick with emotion.
“I love you too, Din, and I want to be with you, I want to go wherever you go,” you tell him.
“That’s all I want too, my love,” Din responds, “And I want to show you how much I want that.” He brings his hands up to cup yours, holding them to his helmet, and then he lifts his head away from yours. Gently he starts to lift your hands up, tugging his helmet with them. You gasp and try to let go of his helmet, but his hands are keeping yours in place.
“Din, wait, what are you doing?” you ask breathlessly. His hands stop moving at your question.
“Please, cyar’ika, please, I want you to see me, all of me,” he implores you.
“But your creed?” You’re so worried he might regret this that it’s overshadowing your desire to see his face.
“I believe it will still be intact, I trust you,” Din says steadily and although you don’t entirely understand what he means by that, his calm and certain tone make you trust him. You nod to him and he begins lifting his hands once again, and this time you help him.
Slowly you see his face being revealed to you starting with a dark stubbly beard, then full lips and a mustache followed by a stately nose and high cheekbones, next, warm brown eyes slightly wet with tears and framed by thick eyebrows, and then finally, a forehead somewhat obscured by wayward dark brown curls. Din is the most handsome and beautiful man you have ever seen. You’re afraid to blink or breathe because it feels as if a spell may be broken and he’ll disappear if you dare to move. It isn’t until you hear him saying your name, repeating it in fact, that you remember how to speak again.
“You have the most wonderful face, my love,” you tell him, your voice filled with awe.
Din smiles at you, a little upturn of the corners of his mouth before he tells you, “That’s impossible; I’m looking at the most wonderful face right now.”
And then he can’t wait any longer, he leans forward to kiss you. Din kisses you like you’ve been apart for decades, putting everything that he is, everything that he feels for you into his kisses. His arms wrap around you and hold you against his chest so firmly that he swears he can feel your heart beating against him. He feels a wetness on his cheeks and he thinks for a moment that you must be crying and then he realizes the tears he feels are his own. He breaks the kiss only because he knows he needs to tell you again that he loves you. As you repeat his words back to him, you reach up to kiss away the tears on his cheeks and Din thinks he’s never felt anything so tender and so pure in his entire life.
“Cyar’ika, before we get carried away, there’s something else I want to say to you,” Din says, stilling your actions.
“You can tell me anything, Din,” you reply, smiling softly at him.
“What you said earlier about wanting to go wherever I go, that is exactly what I want, for you to be by my side for the rest of my life, to share that life with me… cyar’ika, will you be my wife?” Din’s voice is emotional as he asks you to marry him and the look of love on his face is the most beautiful vision you’ve ever seen.
“Yes, Din, yes, I will,” you reply and you pull him close so you can kiss him again. He holds you as if you are the most precious creature in the entire galaxy, and when he breaks your kiss, it’s only so he can tell you how much he loves you.
“Also, that means you can have this,” he tells you as he places a soft pouch in your hands. It’s like the pouch that held your heart pendant and when you open it you see a new beskar pendant, in the shape of a mudhorn, the symbol of Din’s clan.
You unhook your necklace so that you can add this new pendant to it. Din helps you as both of your hands are shaking with emotion and excitement. When the mudhorn is resting right next to the heart pendant it looks so exactly right, a perfect combination. Din rehooks the clasp of the chain around your neck and you can see his eyes shining as he takes in the sight of the symbols of his love, his clan, and his creed on you. Before you know it, he’s kissing you again, and you can feel the power of his love in each kiss. You return his heated kisses passionately, wanting to show him how much you love him and how eager you are to be his wife.
“I love you, Din, with all my heart, and I can’t wait to become your wife,” you tell him as he moves from your lips to kiss your neck, “And for you to be my husband.”
Din nips at your neck when you say the word husband. He tells you, “Mmmm, yes, say that again.”
“I’m going to be your wife, and you’ll be my husband, my riduur,” you repeat in a husky voice.
“Yes, yes, fuck yes,” Din says before he sucks a mark onto your neck and then returns to your lips to kiss you hard, making you throb between your legs. When he pulls away finally, you feel almost lightheaded from the force of his kisses.
Din continues to trail kisses down your neck and chest as he tugs at the fastenings of the dress you’re wearing, eventually pulling it open so he can shove it down your shoulders. He barely gets the top of the dress down around your waist before he’s yanking your bra out of the way so he can kiss and caress your breasts. His hands grope down your body as he buries his head into your chest and when he shoves his hand under your skirt and works his fingers into your panties, he’s relieved to feel how hot and wet you already are for him. He tries to slow his movements, but he feels frantic for you, overwhelmed with need. His fingers circle your clit quickly causing you to moan out his name.
“Din, I can’t take too much teasing, please, I need you too much… I need you now,” you plead with him sounding desperate. You mewl as he pumps two fingers deep into you, pitching your desire into overdrive. It’s been too long since you’ve been together and your yearning for him is staggering. You manage to kick off your shoes and start yanking at your dress in an attempt to get it off your body.
“I need you too, cyare, so badly,” Din sounds equally as desperate.
He quickly helps you finish removing your clothing before opening his trousers and pulling out his weeping cock. You can see how much he wants you as his cock is rock hard and his tip is flushed dark. He’s still wearing the rest of his clothing and armor, but neither of you can bear to wait for him to take the time to remove it. He sits on the bed and pulls you to sit on his lap, straddling him. You start to sink down on his steely length but Din is too eager to wait and he meets your downward motion with a swift and powerful thrust upward, pushing into you all at once.
“DIN! Yes!” You cry out at the exquisite sensation of instantly being filled by him. You grapple at the hard, unforgiving beskar of his cuirass as you rise and fall against him. One of Din’s large hands is at your back, supporting you and holding you to him as he fucks up into you, while the other toys with your clit roughly. You are both moving fast, too caught up in each other to take your time.
“Din, you feel… so good… I missed you… soooo much,” you tell him, panting with the effort.
“My cyar’ika… I missed you too… missed being inside you… like this,” Din gasps out between thrusts.
For the first time, you look into his eyes as you feel him moving inside you, and you feel more connected to him than ever before. You watch every small expression that he makes, simply delighted as you see his desire and love for you play over his face. Wanting to see more, to have the chance to keep looking at his face causes you to draw out your movements, slowing your pace slightly.
Din also loves being able to see your entire face uncovered with his own eyes. The look of absolute love in your eyes is incredible to him and he feels a sense of belonging that he has never felt before. It is not the same feeling of possessiveness that he’s had in the past, instead it is the feeling that he belongs with you, that you belong together.
“Please, cyar’ika, please say you’ll stay with me, always,” Din begs you, despite knowing that you will, he needs the reassurance now.
“I will, I promise, I will, Din, always,” you vow to him, but then you need your own guarantee, “Promise me you’ll never leave me, Din.”
“Oh mesh’la, my love, ner kar’ta,” terms of endearment spill from Din’s lips as he tries to tell you how he’s feeling, “I’ll always stay with you, I’ll never leave you, never.”
“Din, my love, my Din, I love you,” you manage to respond and you feel your inner muscles squeeze him tight as the sensations of love and pleasure swirl around you. Between the feel of him shredding up against pure bliss inside you at a relentless pace and the sheer ecstasy of his fingers on your clit, your climax is rushing towards you.
“Look at me, cyar’ika,” Din commands as your eyes had been fluttering shut. You snap them back open and look deep into his eyes. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”
You cry out as you hear Din tell you he loves you in Mando’a and you careen over the edge, falling into his body as you are overcome with pleasure. He wraps his arms around you tightly as he manages to thrust up into you a few more times before exploding within you and shouting your name.
“I love you, Din, I promise I’ll love you forever,” you tell him as you pepper his face with kisses.
“I love you too, forever,” Din repeats back to you before he kisses you soundly. His arms encircle you as he holds you close. His heart swells with joy and Din knows he has found true happiness with you.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading!! Again, I appreciate your patience with me in getting this chapter out. I have decided there will be just one more chapter for this series, Chapter 10: The Mando Who Loved Me. 
Mando’a definitions:
aliit = family
vod = brother
riduur = spouse
mesh’la = beautiful
ner kar’ta = my heart
ni kar’tayl gar darasuum = I love you
Tag list: @niiight-dreamerrrr @grogusmum @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @rexsjaigeyes @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @beskarprincessjenny @peppywitch @haley7242 @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @hotsauceonabiscuit @asta-lily​ @onabouteverything​
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I just kind of have to get this off my chest for a second:
Guys, sorry I've been mostly MIA. I will get back to answering asks soon. And I know I've been behind on my scene breakdowns. Hopefully, I'll get those up and running again very soon.
I have to admit, I've been frustrated for the last few days. Those who also follow SPN know about the SPN/Jared Padalecki stuff that occurred over the weekend plus the fandom drama. I'm still trying to process, not so much what Jared said but the fact that he literally (though most likely unintentionally) just enabled all of the asshole homophobic fucks to continue their harassment, bullying, and invalidating on not only fans of that show but also for a young generation of LGBTQIA+ fans that look up to him as well as Jensen and Misha and the cast. I still cannot believe that he literally did that within the time span of one question, in response to the question that wasn't even directed at him or had anything to do with him, and to answer a woman who literally said from the outset that she had kids who identified as queer. Within the time span of one question, he just set the conversation back God knows how many years. He literally equated queer love to incest and even hinted at pedophilia (I know that wasn't his intention but that is definitely how it came out). He then even basically said that queer love is all about sex. And I...I'm just having a hard time getting past that right now tbh. I have so many drafts sitting in my drafts box right now of posts where I just went off since Saturday but I haven't posted them and I won't. I want to focus on the positive on this site and put positive energy out there (not negativity), love is always louder, but right now I have to admit I'm struggling with that. So I've kept mostly quiet, except for reblogging a post here and there, while also feeling like I needed to at least post once in regards to something else Jensen had said that was obviously taken the wrong way (before this cluster of an answer by Jared was brought to light). But I've been pretty quiet for the most part.
Then I came on tonight to look on the Buddie tag, hoping for some positivity, and finding more homophobic crap just absolutely has me going 'okay I need to step away, this is getting too deep for me'. (if it's still bothering me when I'm logged out and I'm thinking about it while at work, it's getting too deep for me and I need to take a step back) Not because of the ships, shows, stories, or actors themselves, but because I cannot fucking believe that it is 2021 and we are still dealing with this homophobic crap. That's a little disheartening to me.
But regardless, I'll be fine. I just need to get into a better head space where I can go back to tuning that bullshit out. But on the flip side, I hope each and every member of the LGBTQIA+ community knows that regardless of all of this assholery the past few days, that you are valid, you are loved, and you deserve to be loved. There is no difference between hetero love and queer love, no matter what some of these idiotic people try to tell you. Love is love. Whether you're a woman who loves a man, a man who loves another man, a woman who loves a man and a woman, an asexual person who loves another asexual person, and all of the other spectrums - all of it is love. It is not equated to something as vile as incest or pedophilia. It is not wrong, it is not taboo, it is not all about sex. And this is just how I personally feel: while I'm proud to be a part of the community, I want people to see us as we are. We are NOT the other. The narrative on this needs to change, for good. I am not an other. You are not an other. We should all be one single group, together. That group namely being human beings. Who we choose to love (and who we choose to take to bed or not take to bed) should not change that fact.
Diversity doesn't mean division. Diversity is meant to be a beautiful thing that is supposed to exist within unity and absolutely be all-inclusive. Different does not mean other. Different simply means different, not partitioning. I look forward to the day that society finally figures this out and silences the homophobic rhetoric and behavior forever.
But for now, I'm going to log out, go outside and take a walk, turn up the music on my ear buds, and try to process this anger and massive disappointment so I can get back to enjoying Buddie and all other things I enjoy on here.
See you soon, peeps. Love and light. <3
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pixiedoodlein · 3 years
Text
10 days until school and I’m no more decided than I was a week ago. I flip flop ten times day about what might be best. A is sick of hearing me talk about it. He doesn’t disagree with my risk assessment but he is sick of talking about it.
It caused an issue with his friend, a friend who is his best friend and is unvaccinated and works in a jail. Months ago we told friend he could only visit (this place is their boyhood dream) once he’s vaccinated. Friend typically believes in science and is very health conscious but his gf is a moron Trump lover and her family the same and that’s who he’s been spending all his time with since this all started. When I asked friend why he’s not vaccinated he said he’s young & healthy, didn’t trust the vaccines, would do it when they got full fda approval. Plenty of young healthy people are dead of this. Anyway then I asked ok so what if you give it to someone who isn’t and dies, people incarcerated in the jail he works in and don’t have the luxury of social distancing, and he was like eh whatever. So yes friend is an asshole, but his best friend for decades, friend has always been kind of an asshole but has many redeeming qualities too. So we said no visit. But then in July when there was no covid here and no covid where he lives and we were blissfully living our covid free lives we loosened up and said he could visit with two negative tests. But then covid got bad again and when asshole friend contacted A the other day to say he took time off in late Sept to visit, A said sorry, it’s fully fda approved now you have no excuses not to vaccinate, we’re worried about our unvaccinated kids, and as of now you can’t visit but hey maybe if you get vaccinated and the numbers look better we can reassess in a month and you can come. Friend was a total dick about it, didn’t understand our point of view at all, stressed A about it, who was in a bad mood about it for days afterward.
Then there’s the neighbors. I had a chat with the kids and a chat with the mom. I framed it as we love them so much and I know they’re careful but I think we should all be more careful while the numbers are so rising (aka only outdoor hangouts) and we are careful but I’ve heard terrifying stories from doctor friends about kids and babies getting very sick, and they have a baby who I don’t want us to make sick, and she said she agreed. The kids have been pretty good about making the adjustment from constant sleepovers to playing outside but M keeps asking me “the kids need to pee are they allowed to use the bathroom, the kids are hungry are they allowed to come inside even for one minute for a snack,” and I feel like the villain (I’ve been saying yes to pee, snacks I’ll bring out). Everyone’s been understanding but nobody is getting what I mean when I say only outdoor socializing. All the kids keep asking me when I’ll take them to town again for ice cream, “but it’s outside” (um yeah but the car’s not), asking their mom to ask me for sleepovers even though they know what the answer will be. The other day they were playing in our yard then it started raining and they were like “we can’t walk home in the rain”- I don’t want them to walk home in the rain, but again the car is indoors!- so I drove them home (but made M stay at our house). They’re not my kids so I can’t make them wear masks and it feels like now I am in the position of being the mean parent who’s psycho about covid, which in a way I am, but it would help me to stick to my guns and feel okay about sticking to them if the government policies matched the severity of the situation, ie mask mandates in public places (instead of stores posting polite recommendations), vaccine mandates, virtual learning options, etc.
Which brings me to school. After selling M hard on real school, then I sold her hard on home school. She already “did” 3rd grade last year (as much as me teaching her in my pajamas counts as doing), but this district has an earlier cut off than the city, so she’s in 3rd grade again here. Which is fine by me- her birthday is the same day as the very late nyc cut off (12/31) and I hated that she was the absolute youngest. I used to beg the school to hold her back and they’d say “but why she’s doing so well!” not understanding that I was thinking ahead to the teen years. But anyway, despite her haphazard pj’d professor, she seemed to learn a lot last year so homeschool this year could basically be unschool. She’d traipse around the forest identifying birds and trees with A and her brother, reading for pleasure, and I’d spend an hour here and there reviewing some worksheets with her so she’d be on track when she starts real school after she gets vaccinated. She was into the idea, until she found out she and one of the neighbor kids are in the same class. Now she absolutely wants to go to real school, AND ride the school bus. The school bus part makes me very nervous. While there is now a school mask mandate (but will it be enforced? what are their lunch procedures, what % of teachers are vaccinated, what % of the older kids in the same building as the little kids are vaccinated, did they actually really update their ventilation system?) and a bus mask rule, it’s a long rural route (15 min drive or 45 min bus) and I have no faith that bus windows will be open and all riders will be masked the whole time.
So just tell her she can go to school but has to be driven by a parent, right? Not so simple. I was offered a job at a (somewhat, commuting distance) nearby nonprofit- an easy low stress job in a bastion of liberalism with very very nice smart coworkers, excellent work life balance, a writing job that sounds made for me, like the job description is exactly what I would put together if I were putting together my dream job (except the pay, which is half what I was making at a fancy DC nonprofit, but high for this area, and our housing cost is half so it should be fine if A can get away from little guy long enough to bring in some money too). It’s mostly remote but approx one day a week in the office and some days there will be things I need to attend out in the community (not necessarily our community, they serve the whole region). It won’t always be the same day in the office and the office is an hour away- so on those days A would have no car to get her to and from school, since I’d need to leave before school starts and get home after it’s done. So I guess we need to buy a new car? Aside from this issue we really don’t need a second car now, were planning to get one eventually, but not until A’s business has enough projects to justify the cost.
Despite its many demands/challenges/ stressors, home school is sounding easier to me at this point (especially because she already did this grade), except she WANTS to go to school. Someone talk me out of putting some lipstick and a pantsuit on her and taking her to get vaccinated. I know, I know: the 5-11 dosage is 1/3 of the 12-adult dosage. The doctors I’ve spoken to are split on this hypothetical kamikaze mission. The doctors I’ve spoken to are also split on me and A going to a pharmacy now for booster. It’s been almost 6 months since our 2nd dose. We do not have compromised immune systems. This county has way more doses than demand and I would feel better sending M to school (bus or not) if we had our boosters and she had a first dose- moral and scientific quandaries aside- because there is A LOT of covid here now, a lot of covid everywhere now, and I feel like we are returning to regular life at the time when we should be most hunkered down.
Which brings me to the data. Per capita there are as many known cases here as in nyc, except nyc has a 50% higher vax rate, much more mask usage, better medical system. People are not getting enough tests here, there is a higher positivity rate, and so I think the actual number of cases is much higher than the reported number of cases. It seems like, friends here and in the city and in the suburbs (I just broke up with a friend in the suburbs because she professes to be a good democrat but is hosting a bonafide super spreader event and vacationing in a place with 39% positivity and a collapsed health care system), are thinking of covid as something you catch from strangers- they wear masks in stores- but aren’t careful at all around close friends and family (so many extended family gatherings, so many, cousins and grandparents and half-siblings and aunts and uncles and whoever), when this is a disease that kills via the people you love most, the ones who’d never intentionally hurt you.
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journalxxx · 3 years
Text
By Hook or by Crook (5)
“What do you make of all this?” Toshinori asked, when they were finally alone. They’d momentarily parked the kid in the hallway with a cup of tea while the hero had followed Tsukauchi in his office as he took care of the last bureaucratic dregs of the questioning.
“As I see it, there are two major possibilities we ought to consider.” Tsukauchi said without taking his eyes off the monitor of his computer. “The first is that Midoriya’s quirk is just a mutation, and he is in no way related to All For One. His father is likely a government official whose position grants him knowledge of enough confidential files to make him fear negative repercussions in case his son’s quirk was publicly known, and has therefore enforced silence on the matter. We aren’t looking at any outstanding crimes here, although this man isn’t going to win any Parent of the Year awards any time soon.”
Toshinori grimaced. Wouldn’t that be nice? “And what are the odds of this being our case?”
“I wouldn’t bet my next paycheck on it, for sure.” Tsukauchi typed something on the keyboard, and checked his phone at the same time, before sighing and leaning back in his chair. “The other possibility is that Midoriya is indeed related to All For One, maybe even his son. He’s been fostered to a trusted associate of his and kept in the dark about everything.”
That option could be more statistically or genetically likely, but it still didn’t sit right with Toshinori. “That doesn’t sound like something All For One would do though. Why not raise him as a successor, or even just an underling? Surely another All For One wielder would have made for an important asset to his schemes.”
“You forget that Midoriya’s quirk manifested only two years ago. It is possible that All For One may have planned to do so, but lost interest when the child was deemed quirkless.” Tsukauchi scratched his head pensively. “As for why he didn’t keep the kid close since his birth… we can only assume it was out of caution. Fourteen years ago you had already put a significant dent in All For One’s syndicate and influence. Maybe he was already taking precautions against his own downfall, and didn’t want his potential successor to be involved in case things took a turn for the worse too quickly.”
“... I guess that makes sense.” Toshinori nodded. As per habit, he sent a quiet thanks to his lucky star for accidentally baring his secret to a damnably honest and capable member of the force such as Tsukauchi, God knew Toshinori himself wasn’t exactly cut out for fine deductive work. “In this case, the boy’s father…”
“...Is a former subordinate of All For One’s currently employed by the government, yes. Not a pleasant scenario to work with.” Tsukauchi waited for the printer to regurgitate a disproportionate stack of documents that made Toshinori instinctively recoil. The detective flipped through the paperwork quickly before sprinkling his signature on just about every odd sheet. “Regardless of which of the two hypotheses is true, I definitely want to look into this Hisashi Midoriya. He is by far the most suspicious aspect of the boy’s account.”
“Yeah. He doesn’t visit his family for a decade and a half, he doesn’t talk about his job, he doesn’t follow basic legal procedures, and you can tell he had more of an active role in encouraging Midoriya to hide the quirk than the kid lets on... It doesn’t exactly paint a reassuring picture.” Toshinori sighed. “This isn’t going to be easy for the boy…”
“It never is, when a family member is involved in criminal activities. But the fact that their relationship seems rather distant may make things a little less traumatic for him.” Tsukauchi checked his watch as he tidied up some stationery and turned off his computer. “Well, I guess I’m not too unforgivably late for my other meeting since we don’t have to question Mrs. Midoriya.”
“...Sorry about that. And for springing this on you all of a sudden.” Toshinori said with an apologetic grimace and his utmost sincerity. “You’re a saint.”
Tsukauchi’s small smile implied that he was well aware of the fact. “I’ll drive Midoriya home while I’m on my way to the city hall. Do you need a lift? Or do you want me to let you on the rooftop for a smoke?” That bit of code speak would never not be tragically ironic, Toshinori thought.
“No, I’ve already finished my shift for the day.” All three, scant, scattered hours of it. Japan’s finest, most dependable hero, ladies and gentlemen.
“Then thank you for your hard work.” His friend gave him a quick look and a brief, firm squeeze to his shoulder before heading to the door. No pity, no unrequested sympathy, no disingenuous praise, just straightforward respect and understanding. He really was one of a kind.
Midoriya was exactly where they’d left him, busy fiddling with his phone. He perked up when he saw them return. “Uh, my mother just texted me back. She says she’ll be home in about an hour. If you still want to talk to her.”
Tsukauchi hesitated. “It’s a little too late for me, I’m afraid. I’m expected somewhere else, but…”
“I can wait.“ Toshinori immediately volunteered. “It won’t be as thorough or official as if you interviewed her yourself, but if it can lighten your workload just a little…”
“...Well, I don’t see why not. Hop in the car with us then.”
The return trip was silent. Toshinori glanced at Midoriya a couple of times from the rearview mirror, and he always caught him in an ill-concealed state of unrest. Fidgeting with his phone, picking at the seatbelt, gazing nervously out of both car windows. Toshinori didn’t like that. Why all that agitation, now that the worst of the ordeal was supposedly over?
The boy eventually locked eyes with him. “...Oh. Uhm.”
“Something on your mind?” Toshinori asked.
“Uh, well, I was wondering…” His gaze dropped to his knees. “Are you going to tell my mother about my quirk?”
“I’m afraid so. She is bound to find out anyway, eventually. The police will issue an update on your quirk registration, as per the norm in such cases.”
“...Ah.” Oh boy, now he looked like a kicked puppy. That was just depressing.
“I don’t necessarily have to be the one to break the news to her though. If it makes you feel any better, you can tell her about the incident in your own words.” Toshinori offered, hoping to soften the blow.
“I… I think I would prefer that. Thank you.” The boy quietly acquiesced.
Tsukauchi shot Toshinori a pointed look. All right, maybe that wasn’t the most proper way to go about it, maybe standard procedure demanded the officer in charge to keep mother and son separate during the questioning and explain things personally in the most objective possible terms. But Toshinori wasn’t an officer, he was a washed-up alter-ego of the Symbol of Peace acting in semi-official consulting capacity, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to make things a little less humiliating for the forlorn child in the back. He condensed that whole argument into a meaningful glance of his own, that Tsukauchi couldn’t hold for more than two seconds lest he drove them all straight into the back of a truck. Toshinori took that as unspoken permission to proceed as he saw fit.
“I’ll be leaving this in your capable hands then.” Tsukauchi said as the two stepped out of the car. The man had a veritable talent for conveying irony while maintaining the straightest of faces and the driest of tones.
“Your trust is deeply appreciated. Drive safely!” Toshinori shut the door of the car decisively and waved him off with a dazzling smile.
“Uhm. Okay.” Midoriya said, his eyes darting between the hero and the speeding car with obvious perplexity. “Mom won’t be here for at least another forty minutes. I can fetch that photo you wanted in the meantime. I think I know where it is… probably...”
“I’ll take you up on that, thank you.” Toshinori followed him across the parking lot and up the stairs of the apartment complex. The boy’s eagerness to please was a sight for sore eyes in this cold, self-serving world. “You really did something commendable today, you know? Not many people would be so ready to relieve the pain of those who hurt them. That villain owes you more than he’ll ever know.”
“Oh…” The boy fiddled with his keys as a light redness tinged his cheeks. “It’s nothing, really. It isn’t my place to judge anyone... let alone steal from them. I just hope he’ll get better soon.”
“I’ll keep you up to date on his condition, if you want.”
“Oh, you don’t need to! It’s fine!” Midoriya’s instinctual politeness clashed against Toshinori’s no-nonsense availability. It was a fierce battle, but one didn’t become the number one hero without developing a certain skill in staring people into reasonableness. Midoriya surrendered with a small smile. “...I-It would put my mind at ease though.”
“Then I shall.” Toshinori claimed with finality. “Honestly, I wish I could have done more today for you and Tsukauchi. You two took care of all the heavy lifting and data collecting while I just stood around doing nothing the whole time.”
“You did, didn't you…?” Toshinori’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Well, he hadn’t been expecting that candid a confirmation of his uselessness. Midoriya flinched and started flailing about in obvious distress as soon as he realized he’d voiced that thought aloud. “N-No! I mean- I don’t mean that you were- What I’m saying is that you didn’t really need to come. But you did anyway! F-For my sake, I get that. Because you promised you’d help me out, even if you surely have better things to do with your time, and… I truly appreciate it. Really.”
Toshinori laughed softly. Yes, ‘truly appreciative’ was indeed the boy’s default mood whenever he was graced with the barest amount of consideration, as far as the hero had witnessed in their short acquaintance. He didn’t think it was some sort of hero-worship-related response either, the kid just seemed that sensitive to it. “Don’t worry about it. It’s part of the job.”
“Is it?” Midoriya finally opened the door and they stepped inside. He let out a small chuckle of his own as they removed their shoes. “I guess I have new insight to add to the online speculation about All Might’s decreasing workload. I guess it is to be expected if yo- if he’s taken  to follow up on all his cases so thoroughly.”
Toshinori had to fight back a traitorous cough. “W-well, there is really no need for me to overexert myself nowadays as I used to do in the past.“ He started, automatically supplying his PR-certified response to any inquiry on the topic. Goodness, people really did notice, didn’t they? It was hardly a new concern, but still… “The crime rate has been decreasing steadily, and the industry is so saturated with heroes that there’s someone ready to intervene almost at any place and at any given time. And those heroes could use the money and exposure way more than me…” Toshinori trailed off as they made their way to the living room. The boy was regarding him with unnerving attention, as if memorizing his speech word for word. “There are other reasons too, of course…”
Midoriya cocked his head to the side curiously, expecting further elaboration. Then it clicked, and he fleetingly glanced at the hero from head to toe with open contrition. “O-Oh! Of course! Your… Sorry, I forgot.”
That simple sentence confused Toshinori so much that he couldn’t help but gape back. The silence grew very awkward very quickly. “...Uhm. So, that photo of yours?”
“R-Right! I’ll go look for it! Make yourself comfortable! Be right back!” The boy bolted fast enough to leave metaphorical dust clouds behind him.
Toshinori wandered to the nearest chair with small steps. He forgot. That was quite the feat, while literally standing in front of the sad, wrecked husk that Toshinori had become. Or maybe the kid hadn’t realized that his appearance was a relatively recent development. That seemed more likely. Perhaps he had interpreted his vague answer about his quirk to mean that the number one hero had always been just that, a sickly, overachieving twig in a bodysuit keeping his own skeleton in the closet for nearly forty years.
Toshinori let out a sigh. Quite the uplifting impression he was leaving with this young one.
His circling thoughts were interrupted by a yelp, and the thundering noise of some heavy objects crashing just outside the living room.
“Midoriya?” Toshinori called, jumping to his feet. The second unanswered call had him by the source of the noise in a moment.
“I’m here! I’m fine!” Midoriya’s voice finally answered, from behind a half-closed door conspicuously marked as ‘Izuku’ by a familiar blond-banged nameplate. 
“What was that?”
“Just… some stuff that fell down...” Toshinori approached it and peeked inside. Even from his limited perspective, he could see the boy sitting on the floor and rubbing his forehead, next to a tipped-over chair.
“And did that stuff happen to include you?” Toshinori deadpanned, inviting himself in... and pausing on the threshold. Taking in the interior of the boy’s bedroom. Which wasn’t the priority right now. He willed himself to ignore the star-spangled elephant in the room assaulting his senses and knelt down beside Midoriya, gently peeling his hand away from the sore spot. “Are you hurt?”
“No, no, it’s just a bump.” 
“You should put some ice on it.” There were no cuts or outer signs or damage, which was a good start. Toshinori’s eyes fell on the bottom half of the toppled piece of furniture beside them. “...Did you seriously try to climb on a rolling chair?”
“I do that all the time. It’s steadier than it looks!” There was no appropriate reply to such a claim, but Toshinori’s judgemental glare was enough to make the boy squirm. “I’m fine, really-”
“Ice.” He pointed sternly at the corridor. Maybe there was still a minimal chance of preventing an oversized lump on Midoriya’s forehead from outing to Tsukauchi and other responsible adults the fact the boy had nearly cracked his skull within five minutes of being left in Toshinori’s charge.
“All right. Just a second.” Toshinori kept an eye on the kid, making sure he wasn’t struggling to keep his balance, as he made his way out of the room. Room that Toshinori was now free to observe in all its embarrassing magnificence.
A soft All Might carpet. All Might-themed bedding. Walls plastered with All Might posters. All Might-patterned curtains. Shelves and shelves and shelves of All Might action figures and books. 
It was always… humbling to be reminded of how much passion and care people from so many different walks of life could put in something as trivial as collecting hero merchandise - his hero merchandise, more often than not. Popularity and revenue were Toshinori’s very last priorities when it came to his job, but, despite merchandising being exactly about those, he wasn’t opposed to the practice in principle. It did help cement the reassuring image of the Symbol of Peace in the collective mind, which was definitely one of his lifetime goals. It brought a sizable influx of wealth to the agency’s treasury, which he largely redirected to charity and assorted emergency relief funds. It did seem to spark genuine joy and entertainment in both children and adults. And, when none of these arguments were enough to wash away the vague sense of guilt that came with profiting off the love and admiration of Japan’s fine citizens, Toshinori reminded himself that there were much worse, self-destructive indulgences people could waste their savings on. Alcohol. Tobacco. Drugs. Troll 2 DVDs. The like.
Midoriya reappeared nursing an ice pack against his temple. “Sorry about that. The photo should be in one of those boxes.” He gestured towards the wardrobe that sported a brown cardboard box on the top, and then towards the floor, where its twin lay sideways after a presumably rough landing. They cut through the tape of the latter and, after Midoriya emphatically assured him that he didn’t mind him browsing through his personal belongings in the slightest, Toshinori joined the kid on the carpet in their quest for the photographic Holy Grail. 
“I probably slipped it inside one of these…” The boy said, pulling out small piles of notebooks and publications. Toshinori confined his perusal to dated magazines, comics and books that didn’t seem likely to invade Midoriya’s privacy. The first box yielded no result.
“Maybe it’s in that one. Let me get another chair- oh.” Toshinori only needed to raise his arms and strain slightly on his toes to comfortably reach the top of the wardrobe and retrieve the second- crap, that was heavy. How the kid planned to pull it down himself while standing on wheels was beyond him. “Thank you.”
Toshinori was sitting cross-legged and flipping through an old gossip magazine lavishing pages and pages of speculation on the meager information they had managed to scrape together on his association with Dave - ah, those were the days… - when Midoriya finally let out a triumphant Aha!
“Found it!” He regarded his prize with joy, but his expression quickly morphed into concentration and then confusion. Toshinori held out his hand expectantly, and the boy deposited the photo into it while indicating a specific spot. “It’s, uh… my father’s this one.”
Toshinori looked at the man in question.
And froze.
“He doesn’t…” He heard the boy say distantly, as if from kilometres away. “He looks… a bit different from the picture in the police file…”
Toshinori coughed. He was different, all right. Subtly, cunningly so. Both men had short, snow-white hair, both had relatively plain features and pale complexion, both had faintly-colored eyes that could pass as blue under the right light. They were similar enough that they could be mistaken for one another, when described verbally. But the man in Tsukauchi’s file was a stranger to Toshinori. The man in this photo wasn’t.
“This-” The hero managed, between small bursts of coughs that he couldn’t restrain. “This is the man that- told you to keep quiet about your quirk-”
“Y-Yes.” Midoriya was gawking at him with obvious concern, and it only got worse when the hero’s words sank in. “I-I mean, he didn’t- he just- we sort of agreed that-”
“And the-” Toshinori covered his mouth with his hand, already tasting iron on his tongue as he patted his trousers to find some tissues. “The last time you spoke to him was…?”
“A little less than a month ago.”
Something inside Toshinori just gave up on trying to hold it together. He erupted into a brutal fit, vicious enough to shake his whole body and squeeze his eyes shut. He heard the boy asking something in alarm, and he felt warm blood trickling down his chin before he finally got ahold of a handkerchief to press against his lips. He hacked and spluttered for an interminable minute, his throat and chest tight and sore from the effort. Eventually it died down, and he found himself hunched over and bracing himself against the floor, wheezing and struggling for breath as something shuffled beside him. He turned to check on the noise, and saw Midoriya tapping on his phone.
“Don’t.” Toshinori rasped, swallowing down the remaining blood coating his mouth and reaching out to gesture at him dismissively with his clean hand. “I’m fine.”
“N-no, you aren’t.” The kid looked on the verge of fainting himself. Toshinori followed his horrified gaze, only to notice he’d sprayed plenty of little crimson stains on both the photo and the carpet, not to mention his own clothes. Damn, that was a mess even by his standards. “B-But- it’s okay, I’ll call an-”
Toshinori unceremoniously plucked the phone from Midoriya’s grasp, made sure that he hadn’t dialed any number, and tossed it on his bed. No need to make the situation even more headache-inducing than it already was. “I mean it. It happens. Don’t worry.”
Toshinori cleared his throat as he contemplated the ruined piece of evidence anew. At least he hadn’t marred the spot containing ‘Hisashi Midoriya’. Despite the less than optimal angle, there could really be no doubt. There was no mistaking that face for anyone else’s, it had been seared in Toshinori’s mind by more than three decades of pain and regret.
...Shit.
Shit.
Toshinori collected the picture from the floor and stood up to drop it on the kid’s desk, where it sat innocently surrounded by dozens of pieces of licensed All Might memorabilia.
“...So this is your father, and he’s alive and well.” He stated it aloud and with scorn, because he felt it was important for the universe to hear that its sense of humor didn’t fly with everyone.
“Ehr. Yes. Do you-”
“All right. Okay. Fine.” Toshinori turned on his heels and headed for the door. “Excuse me, I have to make a phone call.”
“...To your doctor?” Midoriya asked apprehensively, visibly starting to doubt the hero’s mental as well as physical well-being.
“No.” He almost stamped a huge, bloody handprint on his slacks before remembering that he still looked like he’d just slaughtered a pig and devoured it raw. “Can I use the bathroom?”
“Second door on the left.” The boy muttered, too stunned by now to object to any of Toshinori’s tangents.
Toshinori washed his face, neck and hands, and rinsed his mouth. He decided he couldn’t bother to do anything about the state of his clothes. He took care of scrubbing the sink too once he was done, making sure he didn’t accidentally leave any red smears on it. He dried his hands and fetched his phone.
“Tsukauchi? Sorry, can you make it back to Midoriya’s house? Yes, as soon as you can. ...No, but we found that photo. You need to see it, it’s… it’s him.”
He closed the call and stared at his reflection on the mirror. His brain didn’t produce a single coherent thought. He walked back to the kid’s room.
Midoriya was peering at the picture intently, even though he hadn’t moved it from where Toshinori had left it. The man’s eyes fell on the scattered blots on the carpet. In his experience, there wasn’t much hope of removing them completely, but it seemed rude not to try, at least. “Got any cleaning supplies?”
Midoriya blinked at him owlishly. “In the bathroom. Under the sink.”
One short trip later, Toshinori was back with paper towels and rubbing alcohol. He waved the boy off when he made to kneel down beside him to help. He handed him the ice pack that lay forgotten on the floor, and the kid pressed it back on his forehead mechanically as he sat on his bed. Toshinori could benefit from only a couple of minutes of silence before Midoriya spoke.
“You know him.”
“...Yes.”
“You’re upset.” 
Toshinori wondered if it showed on his face, or if it was just an educated guess based on the half-baked spontaneous hemorrhage he’d just displayed. He didn’t reply, his attention ostensibly focused on dabbing lightly at each smudge.
“Why…” The boy’s voice faltered. “W-Why is there a photo of another man in the police records?”
Toshinori couldn’t hold back a deep exhale. He wasn’t sure he was the most qualified person to have this conversation with the boy. He surely wasn’t the most eager to.
“All Might.” He felt compelled to raise his gaze. Midoriya was pale, his eyes wide and shiny with unshed tears. His expression was heartbreakingly imploring. “Please.”
He was going to find out anyway, at least the bare bones of it. Kindness was one thing, cowardice was another. Denying him an answer at this point felt more like the latter.
“I know him because he is known to the police. He’s a villain.”
“...A villain…?” The information bounced right against Midoriya’s shock. Toshinori gave him a curt nod. “No… no, that’s… not…” 
Toshinori could track the gradual, painstaking process of acceptance the poor kid was going through from the aborted expressions quickly blurring into each other. Horror, fear, confusion, disbelief. Tears rolled down his cheeks, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to stifle a sob.
“A-Are you sure?”
Toshinori hesitated. Was there any other possibility they weren’t considering? “Are you absolutely certain that that’s the person you’ve been talking to?”
“I… I’ve never met him in person. B-But mom has, and she’s been talking to him too. She said it’s him.”
“...Then I’m afraid there can be no mistake.” It felt like dropping a boulder on the child’s chest, and the way Midoriya crumpled onto himself, cradling his head in both his hands, reinforced that gut-churning impression. Toshinori made no effort to conceal the sympathy in his whisper. “I’m sorry, kid.”
“H-He said…” The rest of that thought was swallowed into distraught silence.
“He told you he worked for the government?”
Midoriya took his time to answer, and he did so with a half-choked snort. “He… he never did, actually. I thought… He said things that… made me think…”
Toshinori grit his teeth. Figures. That silver-tongued demon wouldn’t spare even a child from his precious little mind games. “I can imagine.”
The silence that followed was only broken by the boy’s quiet sniffles, and it was so long that Toshinori believed the kid to have exhausted his reserve of bravery for further questions. He’d resumed his ill-concealed procrastination via blood-cleaning when the next inquiry dropped.
“What did he do?”
Oh, man. What didn’t he do? “He’s been involved in a variety of criminal activities, both directly and indirectly. He’s… quite the nasty customer.”
“Since when? How long for?” Midoriya gripped his head even more tightly, his fingers digging deep among his curls. 
Toshinori had the distinct feeling that his well-meaning honesty was now trespassing into inadvertent cruelty. “We should wait for your mother before discussing this any-”
“Please.” Midoriya’s head snapped up, and the weight and emotion of those emerald eyes pierced through him like a blade. “Please, just tell me.”
Fourteen years of lies. Toshinori couldn’t bear to add even one more to the heap. “...Since long before you were born.”
Midoriya’s head dropped anew. Toshinori got back on his feet, unsure whether a kind word or a pat on the head could possibly ease that burden even slightly-
The ring of the doorbell made them both flinch, bursting that odd bubble of private desolation that had enveloped the boy’s room. They made their way out of the room, Midoriya quietly trailing behind the hero as the man opened the front door.
Tsukauchi opened his mouth to greet them, and froze. His eyes immediately homed in on the blood liberally splattered on Toshinori’s clothes, and on the melted ice pack Midoriya was still absently pressing to his temple. 
“...What happened?”
Inko Midoriya had the same dark green hair as her son, styled in a way that made something inside Toshinori’s chest ache with nostalgia and familiarity. She had the countenance of a demure, quiet, respectable housewife that valued stability and her loved ones’ well-being above all, and would never even conceive of starting a family with anyone any less sensible than she was.
That was why Toshinori was thrown for a loop when, upon being informed that her absentee husband was a criminal, she simply closed her eyes and bowed her head with a sigh and a resigned “...Yes, I am aware.”
Toshinori let Tsukauchi lead the questioning, as usual. Inko had met ‘Hisashi Midoriya’ (under a different alias, at the time) when she was twenty-six, working as a secretary at the main branch of Detnerat. The man had been introduced to her as a representative from another support item company doing some preliminary checks on Detnerat for a potential merger. 
This was unusual, but not exceedingly so. In the nearly thirty years he’d spent meticulously dismantling All For One’s organization, Toshinori had gathered evidence of him personally handling certain aspects of his schemes with surprising regularity, even relatively minor tasks or dirty deeds that could easily and safely be entrusted to his subordinates. He hardly ever found any specific reasons for All For One’s direct involvement. Toshinori strongly suspected that the bastard simply didn’t enjoy the lifestyle of the cooped-up, invisible puppeteer, and sometimes just felt like wrecking some havoc with his own diabolical hands. 
Inko had been charged with supplying him with quite a sizable amount of rather sensitive data, but since the CEO in person had given the authorization, she had performed her task diligently and unsuspectingly.
Now, Toshinori had been expecting the worst to emerge while questioning the circumstances that had led Inko Midoriya to her current marital status. Without exaggerating, the very worst. Any sort of revolting account of manipulation, coercion, even human experimentation, there was no low All For One wouldn’t stoop to. They had confined the boy to his room before starting for that exact reason. 
But apparently the universe wasn’t done throwing curve balls at Toshinori that day, and what they’d gotten instead was the succinct description of what seemed to be, by all accounts, a perfectly ordinary and unassuming workplace romance. One instigated mainly by Inko herself, no less. Toshinori’s strained mind didn’t quite know what to make of that baffling information, so it promptly repressed it. 
“We didn’t keep seeing each other after he stopped coming to the company, but I did reach out to him when I found out I was pregnant. That was when I became aware that there was much I didn’t know about him.”
“How so?”
“He told me.” Inko replied simply. “He was... forward about it, in a way. He said that he couldn’t settle down in any given place, nor spare the time for being part of a family. He offered to let me join him in his activities, but… the way he worded it made it clear that he wasn’t talking of any sort of legal business.”
“Did he mention any details about what his ‘business’ entailed, in general or in that specific time frame?”
“No, not at all. But considering how we met, I assume he must be involved in industrial espionage.” Grief, brief but intense, shadowed on the woman’s features for a moment. “I… I resigned from Detnerat as soon as I found out. He had been asking rather sensitive questions about the inner workings of the company, and… even though I never technically shared confidential information, I felt like I had exposed it to too great a danger because of my irresponsible conduct. And, honestly… I was afraid of what could emerge if I kept working there in my condition.”
Toshinori rubbed his hands in his lap uncomfortably. No job, a son on the way, a presumably disreputable partner to deal with… What a wretched situation to find oneself in.
“You said he offered you to join him? In what way, exactly?” Tsukauchi asked from above the pages and pages of notes filling his notepad.
“...I am not sure. I didn’t ask, I had no intention of getting caught in that sort of environment. Nor did I want Izuku to grow up embroiled in dubious activities from an early age.” Inko’s brows furrowed, and her fist clenched slightly. “...I didn’t want him to feel abandoned either though. I didn’t want him to grow thinking his father had deserted him. I asked Hisashi to grant us that, at least. Financial support and the decency to call, once in a while.”
Toshinori couldn’t hold back a sharp cough at that. Inko regarded him with a mix of concern and suspicion. 
He couldn’t blame her for it. He had accidentally caused her a fair share of grief when, her son having forgotten to warn her to expect guests upon her return, she’d opened the front door and found a freakishly tall, gaunt, haunted-looking, bloodied stranger looming in her hallway. Toshinori had waited in a conveniently secluded corner of the living room, trying to make himself look as small and non-threatening as possible, while Tsukauchi delivered the proper introductions and deflected the few concerned neighbors her terrified scream had attracted. Not exactly brilliant, as first impressions went.
“And he agreed to that?” Toshinori croaked.
“Yes. I was expecting some resistance, but… he agreed almost immediately.”
Toshinori gaped at the remissive-looking, soft-spoken woman who had once been capable of browbeating All For One into exercising a modicum of fatherly commitment. This whole Midoriya case was getting more and more unbelievable by the hour.
Tsukauchi cleared his throat pointedly. Toshinori scraped back together what little dignity he had left and tried to soldier on.
“Please continue, Mrs. Midoriya.” The detective encouraged.
“There isn’t much else to say, I think. I didn’t hear from him for months after that. I contacted him a few days after Izuku was born, and we’ve kept in touch ever since.”
Tsukauchi tapped his chin with his pen for a few moments, his expression deeply focussed. Then he looked Inko straight in the eye.
“You are being… unexpectedly forthcoming about all this, if I may.”
Inko let out a deep sigh. “I was never under the impression that we could escape the consequences of Hisashi’s actions forever. As soon as Izuku was born, I decided that I would never subject myself or my son to undue duresses just to keep my husband’s secrets. I told Hisashi as much as well.”
Toshinori had to stifle another wet cough with his handkerchief. How on earth was this woman still alive? 
“And he had no qualms about this declaration?”
“No. It rather amused him, actually. He said that any mother worth her salt would put her offspring’s safety above that of their parents. And… something about natural selection and survival of the fittest…” Inko’s eyes flickered upwards briefly, like those of a very normal wife exasperated by the very normal idiosyncrasies of her very normal husband. “He does go off on such tangents.”
“So you aren’t concerned about any possible retaliations on your husband’s part because of your cooperation with us?”
“Oh!” Her eyes went wide, almost shocked by the mere suggestion. “Oh no, I really don’t think he’d be capable of something like that.”
Oh, how very wrong she was. Toshinori frowned, admittedly perturbed by the level of trust All For One had managed to establish within the family without ever even deigning to step in their household. Precautions would have to be taken to protect the Midoriyas from the tragic fate that usually befell all those who were deemed traitors by the Symbol of Fear.
More and more questions followed. With his habitual thoroughness, Tsukauchi pursued a multitude of topics and leads that hadn’t even occurred to Toshinori, at least not so readily. Timing and means of communications, occasional postal deliveries to and from the family, details about the sums of money regularly deposited in the family’s account, and so forth. Toshinori was rather out of his depth here, but he tried his best to help Tsukauchi sort through the reams of documents, receipts, records, and diverse paperwork Inko produced at the detective’s request. By the time Tsukauchi declared to be satisfied with his preliminary inquiries, he had earned himself two plastic bags bursting with evidence, and Toshinori had developed a burgeoning migraine.
As they finally made their way to the entrance, Toshinori glanced at the door to Midoriya’s bedroom. Amidst that cascade of new revelations, they’d barely touched upon the topic of the villain attack and of Midoriya’s quirk with his mother. Toshinori felt genuinely sorry for the difficult conversations that were sure to follow between those two.
He hadn’t realized how late it’d gotten until he stepped outside the Midoriyas’ apartment. Sunset had come and gone, and the lampposts and the bright squares of the neighbors’ windows were the only sources of light in the moonless night of that unassuming residential area. As the door closed behind his back, squeezing into nothingness the rectangular glow framing him and Tsukauchi, Toshinori felt the darkness weigh on his shoulders and seep in his bones almost physically. 
He felt, suddenly, extremely tired.
“I’ll drive you home.” Tsukauchi’s wasn’t an offer, so Toshinori didn’t refuse.
“Thank you.”
They walked to the car as his friend made a couple of quick calls to instruct some agents to watch the house until the next morning. The fresh night air would have felt like a small bliss to Toshinori on any other day, but in that moment it only rattled whatever unpleasant manifestation of his unease had lodged itself in his lung earlier that afternoon and hadn’t left since. He coughed a few times in his fist, then a few more on purpose to make sure he got most of the discomfort in his throat out of his system before he settled in the passenger’s seat.
The drive was quiet. Toshinori gazed absently out of the window, letting the new awareness sink in his mind like a stone in a pond. All For One was alive. All For One was still alive, somehow. Toshinori couldn’t fathom how. They had never retrieved the body, that was true, but there was precious little they had managed to retrieve from the location of their fight back then. It was nothing short of a miracle they’d found Toshinori himself quickly enough to lend medical assistance. The only reason why they’d been able to keep the public from learning of the accident was because it hadn’t happened on the mainland, and the tiny, uninhabited island that hosted it had all but been wiped from the maps. That his foe may have survived that disaster, considering the damage he’d sustained, was almost inconceivable. Toshinori was pretty sure he’d actually caught a glimpse of the man’s exposed brain after landing the last-
“Are you all right?” Tsukauchi asked quietly.
The corner of Toshinori’s mouth twitched upwards. “I’m never going to defy New Year’s fortunes again. Moving away from Tokyo was a terrible idea.”
“This is a good thing. If you hadn’t, All For One would still be out there, and we’d be none the wiser.”
Hell. Five years. For five years they’d been none the wiser. How much strength had All For One regained in five years, while Toshinori’s own slowly went down the drain? How much of his criminal network had he managed to rebuild? How many unnoticed, unreported atrocities had he been plotting and executing, unbeknownst to all? The mere notion made Toshinori’s skin crawl.
But Tsukauchi had the right idea, there was no point in brooding over the current situation. Things could have turned out a lot worse. If Toshinori had already chosen a successor and exhausted One For All’s embers, by now he’d be powerless and useless, and the burden of facing his revived nemesis would have fallen entirely on the new, inexperienced wielder. That truly would have been a worst-case scenario. But as things stood, he could still rely on his quirk for a decent amount of time. He could still tie this dreadful loose end himself before passing the torch, and he’d spare no effort in the endeavor. He’d pursue the monster to the ends of the Earth if he had to, even if it meant wearing himself down to nothing for the rest of his life.
Or meeting his gruesome, bitter end in the process.
Toshinori shivered.
“So,” he heard himself say, “where do we go from here?”
Tsukauchi gave him a stern, silent scrutiny, then he told him.
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kerie-prince · 4 years
Text
We're Worlds Apart (8)
Draco Malfoy x American No-Maj!reader
series m.list | general m.list | previous chp
warnings: mentions of smoking, mentions of death
summary: Draco Malfoy is a pureblood wizard. Magic runs through his veins and has been since his birth. You're a Wiccan No-Maj; a non-magical being with ordinary blood through your veins, but practices what you call magick. And this very practice upsets your neighbor.
a/n: god, i had MAJOR writers block for this chapter. i almost got lost in the direction i wanted this series to go and i'm still figuring out a way on how to not let this drag out too long. i'm debating on adding this to wattpad but i don't know how to make aesthetically pleasing cover art so if anyone could teach a bitch how, lmk ✋🏼😩
(gif cred)
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Blaise has been acting differently than usual. Not that you had too many complaints considering that you hardly knew him. Better words would be that from the short time you knew him, he started acting different. What was once two nights a week turned into him staying with you almost everyday.
It was kind of annoying, actually. He was here to see Draco, not some random person he just met.
One morning, he got up early and tried to make breakfast, but he had no idea how to work any of the muggle items so rather than your alarm on your bed stand you woke up to the smoke alarm.
You woke up feeling groggy but had a pleasant soreness on your inner thighs. Before you even brushed your hair or teeth, you rushed as much as you could to see what was going on in your house. When you stepped into your kitchen, your toaster was on fire and there was smoke everywhere. Blaise was just standing by it scratching his head. It woke you right up; you ran to your small laundry room and snatched the fire hydrant.
After you put the fire out, you turned to Blaise, “What the hell happened?”
“I guess now would be a bad time to ask you to make breakfast?” He didn't really show that he was sorry. Maybe on the inside he was, but would it kill him to show it? You rubbed the temple of your nose bridge to smooth out the growing headache. Now you have to buy a new toaster and make food for this man.
The bell rang through your house in the early morning. You set the fire hydrant on the counter and walked to the front door to see who it was that was outside. Probably, no, hopefully Theo coming to pick his best friend up to take him out to go anywhere else that wasn't your house.
Fate was decidedly not on your side today. The person that stood on your porch was none other than your mother. “Ma? What are you doing here?”
“Don’t be rude, baby,” she let herself in just like she used to walk into your room when you were younger living in her house. She looked around and had a scrunched up look. “Y/N, what is burning?”
Just when the situation couldn't get any worse, Blaise walked out to the living room also assuming Theo was here to see him. It donned on you now that Blaise was shirtless and his pajama silk bottoms were sitting dangerously low on his hips. You were glad that he was wearing underwear or else your mother would see more than she needed to.
Blaise stood shockingly still and wasn't sure what to do, so he just did the first thing that came to mind. “Hello, I'm Blaise. Nice to meet you,” he held his hand out for your mother to shake.
She stood with a look of horror on her face and kept her hands to her side. As if it was natural, she gave you a disapproving look before looking back at the man in your house. Blaise retracted his hand and looked at you, “I'll just be at Draco’s then.”
You nodded and stayed with your mother as he put on his shirt in your room and left. “Y/N… what are you doing?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Isn't it a long ride from Boston?” you sassed.
“Don't give me that. I wanted to come see you and… and I wanted to say that I’m sorry.” You could tell that it was really hard for her to say the last bit. “I shouldn't have acted the way I acted on Thanksgiving.”
“What happened, ma?” you asked with your arms crossed, “I know it's not because of Stephanie also practicing Wicca. And if it is, then I really don't understand.”
“I just… why are you still doing this? All of this? I get that you wanted to be closer to your grandmother so I let you do whatever you wanted–”
“You let me? You make it sound like this is some hobby!” you yelled.
“IT IS A HOBBY,” she animated with her arms, “Y/N, you are 26 years old. When are you going to move on?”
“This is ridiculous, I need you to leave,” you began to escort your mother out of your house. “No, I’m staying. This was my house–”
“No, it was Grandma’s house and now it’s mine. Goodbye, mother,” you closed the door in her face and turned against it to lean on your back. Your face was in your hands and you wanted to scream.
You checked the time on your oven and saw you still had 45 extra minutes to do whatever you wanted before you had to get ready to open the store. Since Blaise has been over everyday and you haven't opened up to him about your practice, you wanted to spend extra time to soothe all the negative and stressful energy that was building up inside you.
The closet hadn't been opened in a few days and once you were facing all your herbs, crystals, and oils, you immediately felt better.
“It's been a while, girls,” you spoke to yourself. You grabbed some oils, a sage and crystals to get ready. And you had lots of work to do.
“Alright, you are good to go,” Draco released a child with their parents. Work has since died down since the huge fiasco earlier in the month. There was still the question as to who and why it all happened, but he decidedly let it go for now.
Recently, he's been getting closer with you with small chats every now and then since the day in Manhattan. Draco deemed you as now ‘okay’ in his book. Your chats were simple but not bad.
One thing that for sure was odd was Blaise suddenly staying there every night. He never got an explanation, nor has he ever asked him. Blaise was acting kind of strange, but Draco liked to think it was due to being homesick.
Thirteen hours had passed and Draco’s day would finally come to an end. Ian and Ashley asked him if he'd like to join them on a drink, but he declined. Theo called him and let him know that Blaise was home, so he was going to drink with the two of them. He had yet to introduce his work friends with his best friends and was planning to before they went back to London.
As he pulled up home, he saw you sitting alone on your porch. You had a stoic look on your face and had a cigarette in between your fingers. Draco didn't think you smoked at all. He has never seen you do it once in the months living next to you.
He figured he’d just be a good neighbor and say hello. He walked over and knocked on the wooden porch to gain your attention. You were pulled out of whatever thought you were in the middle of and looked at him. “Oh, hi,” you greeted without your usual enthusiasm.
Draco went through his coat pockets for his own pack and pulled one out. He then realized that he didn't have one of those muggle lighters and tried to figure out how to light his smoke without magic like he usually did.
To you, it seemed that he just forgot a lighter so you pulled out yours and gestured for Draco to come closer. He leaned in and accepted it, “I didn't know you smoked.”
You chuckled to yourself, “Yeah, I uh, quit a year ago.”
Draco raised an eyebrow, “You don't look like you quit.” He took a couple puffs of his cigarette and looked out on the street. You took a particularly long puff and slowly let the smoke out of your lips, “Well, when you have a mom like mine, you start up old habits again.”
“You’ve never met my father,” Draco commented under his breath, “She seemed nice when I met her.”
“She's nice to everyone but her own daughter,” you rolled your eyes. You let your cigarette out and almost started another one, but something stopped you. You leaned back into your chair and closed your eyes.
“Have you two always fought?” Draco asked. You kept at your position but opened your eyes. You gave it some thought before eventually nodding ‘yes’. “What about your father?”
The question seemed to have affected you; your eyes started getting glossy and your bottom lip quivered. Draco noticed. Should I not have asked that?
“He passed away when I was 12,” you sounded like your breath was cut short. Your hands reached up to cover your eyes and wipe away any tears before they could fall down.
As much as Draco and Lucius never saw eye to eye, he couldn't really imagine losing his father. Sure, Lucius was harsh on his son and always compared him to Potter, but Draco still cared about him. And he knew that Lucius loved him in his own way. Maybe you weren't all that different.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Draco consoled. You stood up to go inside. The weather was cold and your cashmere sweater wasn't doing you any good. “Thank you.” Draco let his cigarette out and told you ‘Good night’ before leaving.
Stepping down, he looked back and called for you, “Y/N.” You hadn't closed the door yet, so you looked back with your door held by your hand, waiting for whatever Draco had to say. “If you ever need to talk… I'm right next door.”
It surprised you to say the least. But it unexpectedly made you warm on the inside. “Thank you, Dray.” He nodded and waved before going home.
Inside, Theo sat on one of the chairs in the kitchen eating leftovers from the night before and Blaise was going through the Daily Prophet. “How was work?” the latter friend asked.
“Alright. Good to see you here for once,” Draco greeted. Blaise laughed without taking his eyes off the paper, “Can't a man be with his girlfriend before he leaves?”
“Ha, is that what you two are?” Theo teased from across the room with his mouth stuffed, “Look at Blaise; he finally settled down. Hell has officially frozen over.”
Blaise listed one hand to flip off Theo. Draco, however, felt a churn in his stomach. It was weird to hear Blaise call you his girlfriend. No one has gotten Blaise to call them that, but somehow you did it.
He wasn't really sure Blaise even knew what it meant to have a girlfriend, or even how to be a boyfriend. He never asked what they did knowing that he'd get endless teasing.
Draco grumbled to himself and went to his room. He changed into comfortable clothes and right when he was about to join Theo in the kitchen, he looked at his window for a moment. He peeked through his window and saw you through yours.
You sat on your bed with your legs up to your chest and your arms wrapped them close. Your face had no expression on it, but considering the conversation less than an hour ago, one could assume that you were sad.
“You fancy her, don't you?” Blaise surprised Draco, making the blond jump. “Merlin, Blaise, don't do that.”
“Well?” Blaise stood against the open door with arms and legs crossed. Draco rolled his eyes and walked towards the door, but Blaise didn't budge from his position. “I don't fancy anybody, now move.”
“I don't care if you do. But I do care when you lie to me. And yourself,” Blaise’s tone was threatening.
“Shouldn't you fancy her? She's your girlfriend,” Draco matched his tone. “Besides, if she was, shouldn't you be pissed if I did?”
“I do fancy her, but I'm not the one living next to her. Eventually, I'm leaving,” Blaise reminded his best friend. “So do us the favor and figure out whatever it is you want, or I'll find a reason to stay.” With that, Blaise left to his shared room and slammed the door.
What in Salazar is his deal? Draco thought. He walked up to his fridge and rummaged through all the containers of leftover food. I really need to learn how to cook.
Theo was still eating when he started talking, “Blaise has been pissy all day. What you reckon is his deal?”
“‘M gonna guess there's trouble in paradise and she's sick of him,” Draco jokes. His eyes land on the Chinese food from a couple nights ago and warms it up with his wand.
“Hm, as if,” Theo commented. He cleaned his mess up when he finished and turned to Draco. “Night, mate. Fingers crossed he doesn't yell at me and I have to sleep on the couch.”
“Night,” Draco replied and sat down on one of the high chairs. He thought a lot about you telling him about your father. He sat and wondered if you told Blaise. Maybe you even opened up to him about your… craft? Draco didn't know what to call it yet.
But he figured that if you did, Draco would be the first person Blaise would tell. And seeing as even Theo, the biggest mouth between the three, hasn't said anything, then that meant that you probably hadn't told Blaise.
And for a quick second, passing just as quickly as it came, he wondered if you would tell him first.
It was currently December 18th. Your dad's birthday. Usually you'd ride with your mother to his stone in Boston, but seeing as your latest argument was bothering you, staring at photos of him was going to be enough today.
You hardly remembered much about him since you were young, but you remember the good moments and some of the bad. The bad being the last of his days. His cancer was strong as it was caught too late by doctors.
The store was closed today per usual. You never had it opened on his birthday. Blaise was also at Draco's house. You'd ask him to have the day to yourself and when he asked why, you didn't explain.
Your door bell rang and you groaned, hoping it wasn't your mother again.
"Hey," your brother greeted you. "Y/B/N, hey. Come in, you're probably freezing." Inside, he took his jacket off and hung it on your coat rack. He sat on the couch and your cat ran to sit on his lap. "Sometimes, I think she likes you more than me," you chuckled as your brother gave her head strokes and she purred loudly.
"How come you're by yourself? We missed you today," your brother asked. You sat beside him and closed the photo book. "I didn't feel like fighting with mom again today."
"Y/N/N, I know she's hard to handle, but she needed you today," he reached out for your hand and squeezed it. "I needed you, too."
"Well, she has a funny way of showing it," you stared into nothing. You rested your head on his shoulder and wrapped your throw blanket over your shoulders. "Sometimes, I almost forget what he's like. His laugh, how he made Ma smile. How he smelled," you started.
Your brother was 8 when your dad died, so his memory was limited. But he still remembers how much he loved him. You both sat in silence, hands locked and the only sound being your cats purring.
"Mom told me you have a boyfriend. That true?" he asked.
"I don't know. Maybe? He hasn't said anything, and he leaves after New Years, so maybe not," you half-explained. What was Blaise to you? Did he feel anything when you were together? Was it just physical? You didn't know, and you never asked.
"Well, if he breaks your heart, I don't care where he lives. I'm beating his ass," your brother commented. You hit his shoulder and he laughed. "How's Steph? I haven't been able to call her," you asked.
"Oh. Um, we're taking a break." Your brother sounded sad. You sat up and looked at your baby brother. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, I think Mom just spooked her. But I'll get her back," he sounded only partly sure of himself. You nodded and rested back on his shoulder. He stayed for a few hours; watched a movie and had dinner before he left back for Boston to see your mom once more.
When he left, you sat in your room and lit up some incense to calm your nerves. Out your window, Draco's curtains were closed as usual. Something inside you wanted to talk to someone that wasn't your brother, Blaise, or even Miranda and Bianca.
It wasn't that Draco wasn't the best of friends, but you had an indescribable pull towards him, and you wondered if it was the same for him.
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