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bakugohoex · 4 years ago

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“i want you to have me...all of me”

pairing: hitoshi shinso x female reader

cw: virgin!reader fluff, porn with a plot, nsfw (MINORS DNI! loss of virginity, corruption kink, dacryphilia, kissing, fingering, spit kink, oral fixiation, creampie, consensual sex, protected sex, nipple play, nipple sucking, jaw grabbing, praise kink, degradation, bondage by capturing weapon, biting and marking, hair pulling, cunt slap)

word count: 5300+

a/n: i haven’t posted in a week cause of revising but yeah this is for a collab and i have one more collab event going on so yeah from now to the 21st they’ll only be this fic and another fic coming out, enjoy.

other information: corrupt a virgin collab by @seita

summary: in which shinso finally takes the next step with his sidekick after being unable to confess he finally works up the courage finding out your own secret as you both decide to take the next step in your newfound relationship

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

He couldn’t help but stare at you, stare at how pretty you looked on his arm, you were more than just your looks though. The way you silenced a room with your quirk, the way you were able to easily fit into any conversation and the way you always eagerly spoke to the pro hero.

It had been a long night of mingling at the event for pro heroes that Shinso almost forgot the real purpose of it. It wasn’t like the two of you were dating, you were his sidekick and that was it, you had a powerful quirk that would get you far in the hero society. But most of all you were so damn innocent.

Your lingering eyes on his form as he entered the agency, the way you’d give him those tender looks whenever he explained the day's tasks. He couldn’t help but stare at you from a distance, the way you spoke calmly to the other side kicks. He had brought you along to the event more for his own benefit than what he had told you the day prior. Words of getting you to talk to other pro heroes when in reality he had just wanted you on his arm for the night.

The stupid purple dress that clinged to your body had made him unable to resist the temptation. You looked too good to be left alone, so as he remained at your side, introducing you to other pro heroes, Midoriya and Todoroki both smiling happily at you. You seemed to easily converse with the two pro heroes even speaking to the rowdy Bakugo as he arrived with drinks for the three of them. Midoriya offered his to you which you had happily taken, Shinso didn’t need to worry, of course he didn’t.

But another feeling had taken over him as he watched you converse, watched you happily take the drink. Fingers brushing against Midoriya’s fingers, a feeling of an unknown jealousy that made him begin the walk towards the four of you.

His arm moved to your back as you gave a sweet disgusting smile at him, “haven’t been getting into any trouble, have you?”

“No…of course not,” you stifled as he smirked looking down at you.

“We should get going,” he led you away as his hand remained on your back, he turned to meet the three men who watched you leave. A sickly smirk on his face as he couldn’t help but feel a burst of energy hit him as he talked to you.

You were too perfect for him to not resist, for him to not touch. “it’s so early though Shinso.” You whined as he didn’t meet your gaze, you were nothing more than his sidekick, you have no feelings for him, he could tell from the way your gaze lingered back at the hall. “We sh…”

“We have an early morning,” he interrupted as you closed your mouth, your proposition to spend more time with him seemed to have gone over his head as he began stepping down the steps towards the car park.

You hated how cold he could get in a matter of seconds, how every time you’d see him smile and it would turn into a scowl once he realised what he was doing. On many occasions your friends at work had told you about the many occasions of when Shinso would get pissed off and the whole agency would become annoyed as well.

Shinso watched as you hadn’t followed him as you looked up at the night sky, thinking – most likely about how much you wanted to be nowhere near the man. His dull eyes focused on you as he saw you take the steps towards him cautiously. You were too pure, too vulnerable for him to ever have, and as he kept you at an arm’s length he knew tomorrow was already doomed to be an uneasy day.

Shinso had dropped you off to your apartment without a world, he watched you enter the complex before leaving. He was about to drive off when he banged his hand against the steering wheel, if only he had confessed, the event was supposed to be the alone time he had wanted with you. But his insecurities and nerves had gotten in the way, as he banged his head against the wheel he couldn’t help but feel almost pathetic.

He had gotten over the torment of his quirk being villainous years ago but now with someone so filled with a painting vitality that was unknown to him he couldn’t handle it. What was even worse was the way you banged your head against the door. You could’ve said something more, reassured him, asked to spend more time. But you had remained frozen even in the car ride, your gaze on the wisps of black and everlasting speckles of white shine through the mist.

Both of you remained tormented by your overthinking as neither realised the feeling that was ready to explode tomorrow.

You walked into the agency bright and early as you were met with one of your friends, Mai grabbed your hand as soon as she saw you. Taking you to where some of the offices were and most of all where Shinso’s own office sat, the glass separating everybody from him. As you looked through the transparent material, “what’s happening?”

“He’s been in his office just staring outside of the window for the past two hours,” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Okay and why doesn’t someone just go and ask if he’s okay?” You questioned as you were about to step forward and go yourself.

That’s when the feeling of multiple arms stopped you in your tracks, “listen newbie, there’s one rule you have to follow here and that is to never go into his office without him asking.”

You chuckled at how stupid they were all being, “what’s the worst that’ll happen?”

“You don’t want to know?” One of the sidekicks said as he shivered.

You raised an eyebrow giving an unamused look as you barged past the hands, they looked at you hesitantly but didn’t stop you, “newbies gonna learn the hard way.” One of the sidekicks said as Mai elbowed them watching what was to occur.

You knocked on the glass as you didn’t hear a response but still walked in, “Shin…”

Half way through your speech you felt his capturing weapon wrap around your body as he turned the chair, his eyes widened as he saw you caught in it. He let go in a matter of seconds, but eyes remained still as he looked at how you still gave a toothy smile. “I…I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I got warned so it's my fault…” you trailed off as he began to unwrap the cloth off of you. The image ingrained of you wrapped in it as he was able to fuck into you, shaking his head as he put it back around his neck. “…is everything okay?”

“Yeah…” Shinso looked outside seeing how people seemed to be doing everything but their jobs. He stepped past you going to the glass as he opened the door, “don’t you all have patrols to go too?”

His eyes flashes into a haze as everybody seems to scurry to grab their things for patrols as they leave the building. “Come on…” he murmured as he began walking out of the building, if he was going to go on a patrol he was going with you,

He had spent too long of a time without you that if he wasn’t going to confess today then he’d forget about you. He was giving himself today, he had to do it, he was a Pro Hero, he had everything he had wanted. His dream was a success but your arrival had made him want you and now with you so close in his grasp he had to try at least.

His eyes flashed to the way you walked beside him, you seemed tense, quiet even. Your hero costume ordaining you perfectly, the whites and lilacs making the pure vessel you had ready to be tainted. He licked his lips as he fingers went through his hair, the Artificial Voice Cord around his mouth.

You always loved the way it worked, having heard Shinso speak about it when you had first arrived. It was interesting and the start of what you would call a friendship when you had asked to see how it worked. “Your staring Y/n,” he said, “focus on the civilians.”

You nodded as you looked back to the surrounding areas, it seemed like villain attacks were on a low at the time, even with petty crime it was easily handled by the both of you. You wanted to speak about last night, how he seemed to want to confess of something but instead the silence and awkwardness that occurred instead.

“Shinso…is something wrong?” You murmured as you both walked passed an alleyway.

He looked down at your face, the way your hero costume clinged to every part of your body. He had no idea how you didn’t get cold from wearing it especially when winter occurred. But your question made him think instead, he was only irritated this morning due to not confessing to you.

But his liking of you stemmed from more than just wanting to ruin the purity you had, he liked how you spoke to others, how you easily became friends with the other sidekicks, how you looked was an added bonus. But most of all he liked that stupid goddamn smile you’d have whenever you saw something you liked. And at that moment Shinso was seeing that stupid smile, the way your eyes crinkled, and lines formed as your lips were full and cheeks pushed to show even more of your smile.

He stared at you, the way you continued to look up and smile at him he was silent, and you didn’t care because he finally looked at peace. The startling noise of an ice cream van to the side had made you focus away from him, the way you stared at the kids holding their ice cream as it dripped to the side of their fingers. “Come on, I’ll get us one,” Shinso didn’t let you answer, instead taking your sleeve as you both went towards the truck.

He was avoiding the matter at hand, he hated how he couldn’t be his normal blunt self, he was able to talk to people. He knew he was that’s how he had made friends when he had finally joined the hero course. But as he looked over at you, the way you looked at the different ice creams before pointing at the one you wanted…you were someone who wouldn’t glance at him twice.

As he passed the ice cream to you, you took a lick of it as you looked at him take his own. He didn’t even know if you knew what you were doing, licking at the sides as he watched your tongue. He shook his hair trying not to stare but as you both continued the patrol of a less crime filled area. The ice cream dripped to the side of your hand and finger.

There was a silence as you both ate in silence, as you both turned to see the agency. Your fingers with the white dairy as you sucked on it, he couldn’t help but watch as each finger came out of your mouth with saliva sticking to it.

It was Denki who had got him out of the trance, stopping the both of you as he came from his own patrol, “Shinso,” the man looked at his friend as he gave a tired look.

“Oh Kaminari, what are you doing here?” He questioned as he watched his blond friend look down at you.

Denki already knew of you, having seen you last night but not spoken to you. He had seen Shinso’s lingered looks and had often heard the man speak fondly about you, “just passing by you must be the Y/n I’ve heard so much about.”

“You’ve heard about me,” you smile out, it wasn’t the same one you had given to Shinso but Shinso was able to witness you converse with his friend. How much he loved that about you, how whatever situation you were put in your ease to become friends with another pro hero.

Denki nodded as he looked back at Shinso, “all good things, you were right she is very pretty Shinso.”

Shinso glared at his friend as Denki chuckled, “I better leave before I get punched by lover boy.”

“Kaminari,” Shinso murmured as he just wanted his friend to leave. Denki left with a wave as you gave a confused look tilting your head to the side to look at Shinso.

“Pretty…”

“I…I…” Shinso knew it was now or never to confess. Knowing that the rest of his day would end up becoming busy with other sidekicks and scheduled meetings he had. He stopped you in your tracks as he looked down at you, your soft gaze staring up at him lightly.

“You are…You’re pretty…”

“Oh thanks, I don’t really see it, but I guess the quirk makes me look more pre…”

Shinso interrupted quickly, “No…no it’s not that. Fuck…” his hand went to the back of his neck as he didn’t dare look into your eyes, “I like you, okay? I don’t want to ruin anything though and you probably don’t like someone like me because of my quirk and…”

Your hand went to his cheek as you stopped his rambling, “you’re such an idiot.”

“If you’re going to reject me you could be n…”

You interrupted him once again, “I’m not, I like you too…you’re the first person I’ve ever…ever liked and I guess I’m not very good and showing my feelings…but I do like you too.”

He met your gaze as your hand remained on his cheek, he looked at you, how small you seemed. Your eyes flashed to his lips as he looked at you softly, “we can take things slow, whatever you want.”

Before you both could lean into one another, the sound of sidekicks coming through the corner made you both move apart from one another. An unnerving silence between the two as Mai came towards you, “let’s get some lunch Y/n.”

“Okay,” Shinso had been taken by some of his other sidekicks over an issue that occurred as you and Mai left on your break.

Giving one last look behind you as you looked at the man, he had a new glistening to him as he licked his lips. He was finally accomplished as he couldn’t wait to finally have you be his.

The day continued with Shinso being busy with the issue that occurred, you had barely seen him as you and Mai went on another patrol, both speaking about the events of the weekend. You spoke about the pro hero event you had been to and how nice the number one pro hero had been. A shocking surprise for Mai who seemed to feel intimidated by the green haired man. “I’m telling you he was so nice, like he offered me his drink.”

“Ugh I wish Shinso had invited me now, I want to meet him so badly,” you chuckled lightly as you both watched the sun begin to set. You could understand why he had invited you of all people last night now, how his stuttering of how pretty you had looked in the dress you wore for the event. It had all connected and all you could think about was the man.

When you both arrived back at the agency, an uneasy emptiness had settled, Shinso was missing alongside other sidekicks. You and Mai didn’t question it as you both grabbed your stuff to leave, just as you both stepped outside the doors, you saw Shinso pulling at his hair as he seemed angry about something, taking aggressive steps as he walked towards his office. You would have gone to see him if the pull of Mai didn’t stop you, instead taking the long walk back to your apartment instead.

Shinso had become pissed as soon as his sidekicks spoke of what occurred, having to spend the whole day sorting out their mess. He had finally come back to the agency after hours of running around the city. His mind had been on you and with you having already left and unfinished business occurring.

His mind was focused on just you, wanting to only see you, wanting to only have you. As he took his car keys, leaving the agency as quickly as he could, a few goodbyes here and there. There was only one thing on his mind, and it was you, corrupting you.

You had finally felt free after the confession this morning, lying on the sofa as you flicked through some shows. Shinso had been your first crush ever since you had first seen him when he was starting out. But for him to like you back, you felt like a kid. A worry settled through you, you were inexperienced, not even having had your first kiss let alone slept with someone.

Under the guise you had of wanting to seem pure, an unsettling urge to have Shinso in you had taken over you. The way his hero costume clung to his frame, his hands moving through the capturing weapon. The said capturing weapon wrapped around your wrists as he fucked your mouth, you couldn’t lie and say that even if Shinso had spoken of taking things slow all you wanted was him.

The sound of the door being knocked at made you jolt as you opened the door to see the man in question. He was still wearing his hero costume as he looked at you with a fiery lust, “I can’t wait,” he murmured.

His hands went to your neck as his finger brushed against your cheek, lips smashing against one another. You didn’t know what you were doing, instead hands moved to his hair as you followed his movement with your own. His tongue gliding through your mouth as it skimmed against your tongue, he heard your low moan as his other hand moved to your back making you arch into the kiss.

He let go as your faces stayed close to one another, the fury remained not subsiding. He looked at you with lust as his mouth moved to your neck, “I need you Y/n…please.”

A soft kiss placed against the crook of your neck as you leant your head backwards to allow him more access. You had been thinking of this for too long, wanting him but his edge as his fingers played with your shirt. Slipping under as his hand gripped your sides, feeling your skin under him.

“Shinso…” you whispered as his mouth continued to kiss at your neck, he looked up at you. A realisation flashed through him as he let go of you.

“I’m sorry Y/n…I shouldn’t have…I said we should take things slow and I…I…forgive me today has just been…” he had begun pacing around, as he went to close the door.

You didn’t know how to react, you wanted this, wanted to help him and as you interrupted him, your own lust took over, “I want you.”

He stopped in his tracks as he looked at your form eyeing you up and down as he moved towards you once again, “are you sure?”

“Yeah…” you looked down as you didn’t want to admit the truth.

“Y/n…” his hand moved to cup your face, forcing you to stare up at him as his lips were close enough for you to touch, to feel once again, “tell me properly that you want this.”

“I want this…it’s just…” he waited for the response giving you a tender look as you looked at him with a soft glow “…I’m a virgin.”

He always thought the persona you put on was a façade that someone capable of fighting any villain and talking to anyone would have had one-night stands. Especially with how pretty you were, everything about you was pretty from the way your hair sat to the way you spoke. Shinso’s quirk relied on people talking but whenever you spoke he felt more enchanted than any of the people influenced by the brainwashing.

“That means I can ruin you…myself.” He felt even more turned on as he watched you stare up at him, he pushed you back on the arm rest of the sofa. You sat on it as one of his legs spread your legs open, hands gripping your face, his thumb skimmed against your lips as he pushed it inside watching as you sucked at it. “You gonna let me ruin this pretty…” his thumb moved out of your mouth as he skimmed your saliva across your mouth and cheeks, watching the spit fall down.

“Yes…” you were breathing heavy as he smirked seeing how dazed you looked. Your face tainted in a matter of seconds, gripping your jaw with one hand as his other went under your shirt. He went under your bra as his finger moved to flick against your nipple.

The instant you moaned, mouth agape, the build of spit he had in his mouth was spat right into your tongue. You moaned as his finger continued to pinch at your nipple, the spit mixing with your own as Shinso was able to see the strings of saliva against your tongue and mouth. “You’re already doing good baby.”

The praise sent a flutter through your body as he noticed how your eyes glossed, “let's finish this in your room.” He gripped your thighs bringing your legs to wrap around his waist as your arms moved to his neck.

You kissed him as he could taste his own saliva and your spit mix between both of you, as he kicked the door open, seeing how your room reflected you perfectly. He put you on the bed as your mouths remained connected. Spit on the sides of your mouths as he saw how much you craved him, your hands moving to grab onto his capturing weapon.

He closed the bedroom door as he knelt on the bed, one knee between your own as he wanted to feel how wet you were. Taking the capturing weapon off of his neck, he watched as your eyes lingered onto it, putting it to the side where he could easily grab it. He kissed you softly, leaning down as your back hit the duvet.

“You sure you want to do this?” He whispered as his hand lingered across your shirt, his hand waiting to hear your response.

You nodded as he waited to hear you verbally say it, “I want you to have me...all of me.”

It was all he needed for his hand to lift your shirt above your head, the way your breasts sat in your bra, hard nipples from his fingers already having flicked against them. “I’ll make you feel so good, baby…make you scream for me.”

You moaned as his mouth sucked at your nipple, his fingers flicking against your other one, as his other hand moved to your joggers. Hand about to divulge into your underwear, your hand had moved to pull at Shinso’s hair as he continued to suck and nibble at your tit.

“Hi…Toshi”, at the sound of his name, his hand went into your underwear, feeling how wet you had gotten. His fingers beginning to play with your clit, feeling the nub between his fingers as your moans intoxicated the room. “M…more…please..” you arched your hips to feel his fingers against your slick filled clit.

The movement made Shinso stop sucking at you, he looked at you, how slutty you had become to feel even more of him. He took his hand out of your underwear as you whined to feel more of him, his fingers filled with your slick, “already wet…isn’t that slutty of you…” He watched as you tried to get passed his legs to feel some more but he put his fingers across your lips instead, “you want to taste yourself…open up.”

He was too close to your lips as just as you opened your mouth, he moved his fingers and sucked on them himself, “you took too long.” He teased as he sucked each finger forcing you to watch as your hands tried to get to his trousers, but his other hand had restrained both. “If you keep moving I’ll have to tie you up…or is that what you want?”

You both looked to the side where the capturing weapon was, he leant against you, the imprint of his cock through his trousers pressing against your clothed cunt. You rutted against him, he gave a groan at the movement against his cock as he took the capturing weapon, the carbon coil flicking between his hands as he grabbed your hands. His cock skimming past your cunt once more, as he put your hands above your head, using the cloth as it wrapped against your wrists, tightening it at each movement you made against him.

“You want to be tied up for me…if you’re going to act like a slut, I’ll treat you like one.” He watched how your chest became full and raised as you arched to feel more of him, he took his shirt off as he was left shirtless.

Your eyes filled with a hunger as he went down to kiss you, “reply to me or I won’t fuck you baby.”

“I…I want to be tied up…” you whispered acknowledging how turned on you had become just from his action.

“Good…” his hand moved to your underwear, going past it as his hand patted your cunt, “…girl”

Both his hands moved to pull your joggers down your form, pulling your underwear down simultaneously. He watched how flushed you had become from being exposed, “pretty virgin cunt baby.”

“Take it…” you murmured as your hands ruffled against the material.

He undid his belt as he looked at you softly, “I intend too,” fingers moving past your clit as two fingers divulged into your cunt. The feeling of your walls pushing against his fingers, “you touched yourself baby.”

“I…I…” as his fingers moved inside of your cunt, you moaned as he went further into you, “Y…yes…”

“Naughty girl aren’t you,” he watched you squirm, your legs twitching at the feeling of his thick fingers pumping back and forth into your wet cunt. “Want to cum? Want to cum on my fingers baby?”

“To…Toshi, ple…please let me…cum…” your mouth had widened, drool coming from the corners as you felt a coil in your stomach.

He pumped into you continuously, his fingers moving into the back of your cervix as he watched you twitch even more, “cum for me baby.”

“Toshi…” your loud scream of his name as the coil snapped the gush of cum being pushed back into you as his fingers continued to move past your first orgasm. “Wan…want your…” you didn’t have to finish the sentence, already knowing what you wanted as he watched his fingers were soaked in your cum. Stepping out of his trousers as he took his own boxers off, the imprint of cock made you lick your lips. He went into his pocket finding a condom as he looked down at you.

Cum dripping onto the bed sheets as your cunt looked plump and swollen, ready for him to take something no one else had even seen. Rolling the condom onto his cock, his fingers moved to your mouth, letting you have a taste of any cum that was left on his fingers. “You ready for this baby,” he whispered as his arms trapped your frame, he leant down to kiss you as you moaned a yes. “This is gonna hurt a little bit…”

His indigo hair damp as it rested against the back of his neck, he watched your hands squirm wanting to touch his hair as he moved one hand to unravel the capturing weapon. As soon as your wrists were free your hands went into his hair, pushing him to kiss you more, his cock moving past your clit and first orgasm.

“I want you…” you whispered as your faces were only a mere inch away from one another, he looked down at you as your eyes were filled with a different feeling. Not of a lust that you both had experienced, but a passion to finally become one.

His cock moved past your clit, he pressed into you slowly as he watched you moan, eyes watering. Wiping the tears with one hand, “you’re doing amazing baby, just a little bit more.”

His cock was half way into you as he began to thrust back out of you before going back in, your eyes watered even more at the feeling of his thick cock stretching your cunt out. “To…Toshi, I can…can take m…more,” he nodded as he pushed into you, his base finally meeting the entrance of your cunt as you moaned his name.

He began to thrust back and forth into you, going deeper into you at each thrust, your legs wrapped around his waist as his knelt feeling his cock go into your even more. His mouth went down to kiss you softly as saliva missed between one another once again, the feeling of his spit sticking to the corners of your mouth were prevalent as he continued to fuck into you. “Yo…you’re so fucking pretty baby,” he whispered as you he moaned into your ear.

The sounds of him groaning and moans of your name making you want to feel him forever, “To…Toshi please more….” His thrusts became quicker as he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your hands limp around his neck as even your legs seemed to have fallen due to the impact of each thrust.

As you gained your high, eyes opening as you saw his form, the way his hair fell across his face, his perfect body and cock, but most of all the look of love he had for you as he met your eyes. “I want to...be with you,” you whispered into his ear, his form changed as his thrusts became even more sloppier, “Hitoshi…I…I love you…”

“I love you too Y/n…” the sound of his voice making the coil snap in your stomach, feeling the white gush out of you. Each sloppy thrust becoming even sloppier as you moaned his name at the feeling of your release. The use of your cum being used to help him get even more into you, “I fuckin…love you baby.”

His words repeated as he felt his own high, groaning your name out loud as the cum gushed into the condom. Sliding out of your cunt collapsed beside you, sweat across both your forms as you gave a tired look at him, the night sky reflecting from outside, the small lamp to the side illuminating the room as he turned to see. The way your chest rose, cum dripped down onto the bed and hands moved to move his hair away from his face, “I do love you Toshi.”

He took the condom off as he tied it letting it drop as he watched you move to rest against his chest, fingers against his lower abdomen. He smiled watching how your eyes became tired and began dropping down slowly, the feeling of his body against you remained.

Kissing the top of your head, he pulled the covers on top of you both as he watched you snuggle closer into him. Almost wrapping your body against him as he looked up at the sky seeing the wisps of new stars and new colours, looking down at your sleeping form and the new relationship that had formed.

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sarahjtv · 4 years ago

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BNHA Chapter 319 Spoiler Analysis: Found Family

Holy crap what a phenomenal chapter! This arc in general has been great, but this chapter might be one of my favorites of the arc. Not just because it focuses on Class 1-A (I’m so glad to see the kids again), but because of the growth we see in these kids in general especially Bakugo and Shoto IMO. Like, holy shit ESPECIALLY BAKUGO! I stand by my opinion that Bakugo is one of the best developed characters in the series. There’s so much I want to say about this chapter and I’ll try my best to do so if my poor injured left hand will let me 😭:

The chapter starts off with the first of 3 colored pages we’re going to get over the next few weeks to celebrate 7 YEARS OF MY HERO ACADEMIA!!! CONGRATS, HORIKOSHI-SENSEI!!! This series revived my love of anime/manga and really helped me in some really rough spots in my life. I will forever be grateful towards Horikoshi for bringing this series to life and blessing us with such an incredible story full of beautiful characters. MHA may be a little overrated, but I still think it deserves all the love it can get.

Anyway, the color page. It shows Uraraka, Iida (who has red eyes here, so IDK why the anime gives him blue eyes though I do think they work better for him personally *shrugs*), Shoto, Tokoyami, and Bakugo after basically figuring out where Deku went. Bakugo is shown tearing up his letter (which says something like “Thank you for being there, Kacchan”; there’s more but I can’t translate it 😭) and you can kinda see some bandage wrap around his arm where he was stabbed. Also, both Bakugo and Shoto still have some visible injuries on their faces and Bakugo’s hands, so they’re still recovering from the War. It’s a really pretty page in general and I can’t wait to see what the next 2 color pages are going to look like. I also kinda want Horikoshi to take a break after this too again so he doesn’t overwork himself. Maybe he’ll treat himself to the MHA: World Heroes Mission movie 🍿.

So, Shoto and Bakugo have figured out that Deku is most likely with Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist. Problem is that none of them are answering their phones. I like that Bakugo calls Best Jeanist “Pair of Denim Pants” 😂 and Shoto’s image of Endeavor is still a very angry version of his old man. Shoto’s still making amends with his father, but he’s still not THERE yet. Regardless, these kids are smart enough to know that something’s up. Especially since All Might hasn’t returned to UA either.

It’s basically confirmed by Ojiro that because classes have been suspended, our Class 1-A kids are still 1-A; they haven’t moved into their second year yet. That clears up the confusion on whether we should still refer these group of kids as 1-A still or not.

Now Bakugo’s showing how much of a genius he really is despite his personality. Bakugo figures out that the Top 3 and All Might are working together as a group based on how they all connected with each other back at Central Hospital. Also, Bakugo concludes that All Might snuck Deku’s letters under their doors while Deku started running. Ultimately, Bakugo does know more about Deku and All Might more than anyone else does. He’s been around his childhood friend and he’s admired his idol longer than most people have. Bakugo understands how bad the situation is and he’s ready to take action.

As are the other kids. You can see how determined they are and you can see Kirishima’s black roots coming in 🥺! Even Uraraka gets some shine here by bringing up the idea to trick Endeavor to come via getting help from Principle Nezu as Endeavor was a UA student. It’s really interesting to see Ochako in a more serious roll than usual, but I actually like it. I hope she’s still as bubbly as she always was at the end of the day, but she’s definitely matured and grown a lot over the corse of the series. Even the simple things like her hair show it as it’s not as floaty as it was before. I love it when Horikoshi shows small details like this. It adds to the characters and stories a lot. Also, the art in this chapter is amazing.

And now it’s Endeavor vs. Class 1-A in a much needed conversation. All the kids are wearing their school uniforms to make this as formal and serious as they can. EVEN BAKUGO IS PROPERLY WEARING HIS TIE YOU KNOW SHIT’S ABOUT TO GO DOWN!!! And, I must say, Bakugo looks damn good with a tie 😳. You can also get a decent height measurement on the kids here if you want. Ngl, sometimes I forget that Shoto’s about 2 inches taller than Bakugo. It’s definitely the hair.

Shoto’s the first to step up and he scolds the hell out of his old man. Rightfully so tbh. Endeavor shouldn’t have ignored Shoto’s calls even though I kind of understood why. Shoto reminds Endeavor of their plan to stop Dabi though thankfully that’s what’s pushing Endeavor forward so he hasn’t forgotten. Shoto calls his father “Endeavor” and gets mad at him fro leaving Deku and All Might alone. The rough translations say he called Izuku “Deku” here too btw. Endeavor has no response. I think this anger Shoto’s unleashing is very justified and has been burning inside him since Deku left UA. His best friend just up and left him and his friends with nothing but a letter to kinda explain things. Also, Shoto and the rest of 1-A (minus Bakugo) have basically been lied to for about a year. I’d want answers too if someone did that to me.

Bakugo steps in by putting a hand on Shoto’s shoulder (🥺) to calm him down a bit and to say his piece. Ultimately, he thinks what Deku is doing is right, but that the way they’re all doing it is wrong. I love Deku and All Might, but they’re sacrificial idiots. They care more about others than they probably ever will themselves. That’s how All Might lost his OFA in the first place. It’s because of that that All Might doesn’t have it in him to stop Deku from going down this path. They shouldn’t have been left alone. Someone should’ve kept a closer eye on them. I know the Top 3 were all worried about getting too close to Deku before, but really, someone should’ve been watching them closer on the sidelines.

The next page is a really cool drawing of Endeavor flinging his phone to the kids to catch. The previous panels showed Endeavor with this face that’s regretful and I think he realized something: That Bakugo is right and that the kids might be better off finding Deku than he is. So he basically gives the kids his GPS on his phone. Those are just my thoughts, but it does look like that. I don't think Endeavor’s just going to up and give up though. He’s probably going to start rethinking things though.

As Sero manages to catch Endeavor’s phone, he and the rest of the kids think about how even though they’ve only known Deku for a year, they still think of him as family and cannot let him go down this thorny path alone. They’ll carry the OFA burden with him if they have to. They can’t smile without Deku around. These kids truly have become a family over the year. It’s amazing to see. Everyone’s like a brother and sister and it’s really nice to see. I just love Found Family stories, guys 😭❤️

And really quick, I want to focus on my ❄️🔥 boy, Shoto, really quick. As he’s thinking about Deku, he mentions how shocked he still is about Deku keeping OFA from them and how Deku thought just a letter would suffice. He has this sad look on his face like he’s trying to say: “I still can’t believe my best friend hid this from me for so long. Why? Did he not trust me?” That’s just my interpretation. Still, I can’t imagine how upset Shoto must feel. I think he still cares a lot about Deku enough to go out and find him, but he’s gotta feel some sort of betrayal. More so than the other students outside of Bakugo because, again, Deku was essentially Shoto’s best and closest friend 💙😭

Endeavor is rightfully worried about letting the kids out in the state of Japan right now, but now Principle Nezu speaks up and praises the kids on growing up so well. He’s also took into account Deku's feelings about his mission which is why he agreed to the team up. Also, Deku’s still welcome back to UA whenever he wants thank god ☺️. He’s a student who has to be protected. There’s a cute panel of Uraraka and her mom crying happily after getting her acceptance letter too. Not 100% why this is shown other than Acceptance Letter part, but it’s cute to see. Maybe Ochako realizes how much Deku needs to be protected or something.

As for the refugees, Nezu had the security system strengthened in time for the Cultural Festival earlier, but they never used it before. It’s call The UA Barrier. God, how strong is this thing? Is it strong enough to stop Shigaraki who was able to Decay the last barrier? This seems like something that’ll be used in the final battle TBH.

So, Nezu trust the 1-A kids to bring Deku back home. Which is exactly what they plan to do as all 19 of them enter Kamino in a badass full page. I actually wasn’t sure if all 19 of them were there at first since I couldn’t find Shoto for the life of me, but then my eyes saw the BIG-ASS ICE WALL IN THE BACK AND I THOUGHT “OH THERE HE IS!!!” LOL 😂

The next panel actually does show Shoto with Momo as they capture the villain from the last chapter. Momo politely calls Bakugo “Bakugo-san”, but Bakugo demands that he be called his insane hero name: “GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT”! I CAN’T WITH THIS DUDE SOMETIMES WHY DO I LOVE HIM SO MUCH 💥🧡

Deku sees his friend and wonders why they came. Ochako answers because that they were worried about him, but Deku tries to convince everyone (including himself) that he’s fine. He’s obviously not and Bakugo calls TF out on him! He even drops a good F-bomb for good measure. Bakugo mocks Deku for trying to act like All Might and asks Deku if he can even smile right now. I actually really like it that Bakugo’s calling Deku out on his shit. I think Deku needs some good tough love right now to knock some sense into him. Who would be better to do that than Katsuki Bakugo himself?

As Deku is trying to convince everyone that’s he’s fine (while still looking like a demon btw), there’s a small focus on Iida. Actually, a few panels this chapter have focused on Iida. Maybe he’s remembering the time Deku saved him back when they went up against Stain. Deku saved him then so it’s now Iida’s turn to save Deku. Also, Iida hasn’t gotten much focus lately and I really like his character, so I’m glad he’s being brought back to the forefront again. Also, I like hearing Kaito-san’s voice in general so I’d be happy to hear him again (thanks for that one, Haikyuu).

The final spread shows Deku telling everyone to move away while Bakugo, Iida, and Ochako get ready to stop him. IT’S DEKU VS. CLASS 1-A!!! WE’RE ENTERING CIVIL WAR FOLKS!!! Seriously, though, this is great. I was thinking that it would be just Bakugo and a few other students finding Deku. Instead we got the whole class. And looks like that “helping hand” thing will happen later because we got a battle to fight first.

Bakugo’s become a damn fine leader and I love to see his growth every freaking time🧡! I like how Iida has his hand on Bakugo’s back to support him btw. It’s weird that Shoto’s not in this page though. He’s one of Deku’s best friends, so I would think he would be in this page along with Bakugo and his first 2 friends (Ochako and Iida). Maybe Horikoshi’s saving Shoto for a more 1-on-1 conversation with Deku. God, I hope that happens because I think along with Bakugo, Shoto deserves a good talk with Deku the most.

Honestly, I’m not sure who would win this battle. I’ve been going through scenarios in my head on who would win, but I can’t come to a solid answer. Class 1-A has 19 versatile Quirks under their belt and they have more energy than Deku to fight, but Deku still has 6 insanely powerful Quirks that he’s been practicing for a while. The kids could probably win if they strategize enough and use Deku’s exhaustion against him, but again, Deku has OFA and multiple other Quirks. If he could beat Lady Nagant, one of the best snipers around, he might be able to beat the 1-A kids. He could just escape with Smoakscreen, Black Whip, and Float if he wants to really. That would put 1-A on another wild goose chase. There’s also Deku’s Danger Sense which will be a pain to deal with. Also, Deku said that he’s as strong as All Might was in his prime with Fa-Jin and OFA combined. Only AFO and Shigaraki were strong enough to take on THAT. Plus, we still don’t know what the 2nd OFA Holder’s Quirk is yet. Deku might use it in this battle. God, I have so many theories in my head now. I think this battle will be awesome, but ultimately, I want Deku to come home 😭💚

Me reading and loving My Hero Academia:

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diminuel · 3 years ago

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I scrapped together some courage an called student counseling, so we can talk about me maybe going back to university to get my PhD. I’m not sure yet, I’ve been on the “should I, shouldn’t I” track since 2015 and I’ve always been afraid. I thought I needed to make money, get a job, a career. And I didn’t manage.

Like my history professor said, go and see if you can survive out there. I went and looked and I apparently can’t. Are some people just built to not be able to be useful outside of academia? At least that’s what I feel like. But it’s been so many years without doing research and being at uni, that I’m not even sure I can do it anymore. I could have done a whole other BA and MA degree in the time it’s been since I got my diploma. I’ve got some new experience now but will that be useful for my studies at all? I don’t know.

Also, since there are no paid PhD positions at my uni available, there’s that whole issue of financing it. I need a job, one where I work more than 10 or 20%, but not too much to not be able to do my research stuff.

And the issues that come with autism will also need to be factored in. I got through uni without the diagnosis, but I had a very bad time towards the end and the issue is that I am embarrassed about it, so much that I don’t look forward to asking the prof - who witnessed me being a mess and I haven’t apologized properly for it because I was so ashamed - to take me on as a PhD candidate. Wah.

(Of course, I also don’t know what I want to research. I have two fields I’m interested in, but they’re vague.)

So... If anyone has experience doing a PhD in literature, maybe even in Switzerland, let me hear from you! ;w;

#Effi stuff

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mc-doppomine · 4 years ago

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Dunno why this came to mind...maybe calculating Jakurai’s deal here...Who knows but here I am imagining how much schooling these boys have gone through.

As a note, I am not saying their schooling level as any jab to them. All people are different. Some would prefer going to school, some do not have the opportunity and some have other things to do. It really is many reasons why they would or wouldn’t go on. And I’m just guessing what I think they’ve done based off information we have of them.

Buster Bros!!!

Ichiro I feel only completed compulsory school and some of high school. He was too busy supporting the orphanage and his brothers to really keep up with it. And considering Yorozuya Yamada is likely their only source of income, he hasn’t really gone back either. I don’t that particularly bothers Ichiro since while he wasn’t bad at school he wouldn’t say he liked it either.

Jiro is at the age where he didn’t have to go to school anymore but Ichiro made him stay. As it was just better options for Jiro if he does finish school. He also doesn’t go to cram school as 1) he can’t stand school as is, 2) he likely goes to help Ichiro with the business and 3) there’s a chance they can’t afford to send him. Despite the latest drama tracks, I don’t see school being a point of contention between them even if Jiro doesn’t like school. I don’t see him pursuing a traditional higher education, if he even goes at all.

Saburo is still in compulsory school as far as I understand so it’s not really a question of if he goes. But obviously Ichiro would want him to stay. Especially him because he’s good at it and seems to like it. That and it might help Saburo’s social skills to have to be around kids his age. For the most of the same reasons, Saburo doesn’t do cram school either. If anything he probably could tutor if he didn’t get so easily frustrated with people. I do feel he could make it to the top schools when he gets older but I see an interest in going overseas for uni.

Mad Trigger Crew

Samatoki I don’t think went past compulsory schooling. He was too busy with yakuza stuff to really deal with school. I see him getting into a lot of fights over his background, namely badmouthing of his parents. He probably had Nemu stay though because he wanted her to have options. I think he’s really good with money even though he probably hasn’t had to worry about it for a long time

Jyuto I initially was gonna say did go to college but researching a little bit, he probably didn’t. He only would need to finish high school and pass exams. Which I feel he was prepared for. Like I think he’s been set on being a cop for a long time and worked for that. Which is why I’ll also go out on a limb and say that in high school this boy was a runner so he was also in shape for his training when he passed exams. I also think Jyuto was a good boy student.

Rio likely went into military service as soon as he could, which I believe is 18 over there. It’s a little harder to tell about how the service was since the world of hypmic is one that had another war, so it’s likely his time was busier than what it would be normally for someone in the navy. He absolutely could’ve gone to uni and come back to get a better rank but I don’t think Rio really cared about that aspect of it. (This man knows communications and some hacking, you cannot tell me he couldn’t have gone far) I will say he likely took advantage of his half-American status and is fluent in English as it would’ve been useful for joint exercises with the states. I think the dissolution of the navy really shot him in the foot but he’s just too resourceful to keep down with that.

Fling Posse

Ramuda...obviously didn’t. And I don’t think his records would show anything. Like if it had to show anything, it would probably show him going to a super large school where it’s completely possible no one knows who the hell he was (because he was never there). And if he was based off someone, he likely had some of his credentials taken from them. He understand the culture of schooling though, I mean his style and personality does seem to draw girls high school age and older.

Gentaro is pretty hard to imagine to be honest. I don’t see him enjoying his school life and being around classmates for an extended amount of time. And while I think he could’ve spent some time in academia in literary research, I also see him finding it way too stuffy for writing. But I think ultimately...he went to uni for a short time. For some reason I just don’t see him vibing with how the system is for it.

Dice did not. I don’t think he finished high school although he could’ve if he wanted. But he probably avoids it because it’d be an easier way to keep track of him and run contrary to his stray sort of life style.

Matenrou

Jakurai...is a doctor...I sure HOPE he went to school for his profession. So he studied some of the stuff you need for doctoring during his time as an assassin but he didn’t actually go into studying to be a doctor until he quit his killing at 23. He probably went into the national defense medical college, which seems to be 6 year program but you have an extra 2-3 years of compulsory service with it. I think he likely finished his compulsory service, at the latest, a year before the Dirty Dawg timeline. Or OR he faked his schooling and just knew the equivalent knowledge from his time as an assassin and was able to pass his exams and later studied whatever he lacked. He’s basically fully legally certified NOW, don’t worry...

Hifumi I just can’t see going past high school. Like I’ve always seen the incident happening in his last year of high school and it made it difficult for him to even finish. And considering he claimed in the first Matenrou drama track that he didn’t find a way to live with his phobia until he was 20...I don’t think he went. Not that he would’ve been interested in it. Hifumi is interested in what he likes and wouldn’t want to put the effort either way. I don’t think he really cares and he has more than enough skills (and money) to do just about whatever he wants.

Doppo likely went to uni. He couldn’t get into the real prestigious schools and knew he couldn’t so just went for wherever he could get into rather than wait to test again. I feel like his degree is in either accounting or business. I think he had a part-time while in school to pay for it since it seems like his family might not be as well off or he didn’t want to burden his parents (in a passing conversation I think he mentioned paying for his brother’s exams or schooling). For some reason I also can see him having a minor in biology because I see him either knowing a lot about plants or knowing a lot about marine life. What kind of person just thinking of a water flea for like a small creature?

Dotsuitare Hompo

Sasara I feel like he didn’t go past high school. Not that he couldn’t. Just that he didn’t find a need to? Not when he was set on going into comedy. Like it was either make it or be trapped with his family. And he was hard noooope.

Rosho....is a teacher? I sure HOPE he went for his teaching certificate. I don’t think he was going to initially and might not have while he was doing the comedy game with Sasara? Their time line is a little fuzzy, I haven’t found the indicator of if Rosho and Sasara disbanded before he went to MCD or after. If it was before, then yes he went to school after they disbanded. If not, then he was in school while doing the manzai thing. So yeah dual major of mathematics (or statistics) and education (he didn’t need both but I have faith in him).

Rei most definitely went to fucking uni. This bastard would let you think he didn’t but he did. He’s probably a fucking doctor or just shy of it. Drives me mad. Why am I sure? Because if Rei is behind the hypnosis mics. As in the designer and/or inventor of it, he is a scientist or engineer of some type. I see him having a degree in either biotechnology or neuroscience. I learn towards the latter because I feel like he also got a minor in psychology (or y’know what, business is possible too for a minor). Just to mess with people.

Bad Ass Temple

Kuko I feel was the same as Ichiro in that he went to high school but not necessarily finishing it. I don’t believe he would’ve had to...if anything he’s gone back to his teachings at his temple. Yet it seems he doesn’t do that either so I’m not sure. I just don’t think he did anything past high school.

Jyushi I think he might’ve just finished high school? I don’t know if he was just finishing or he’s soon to be doing exams. But I think he’s going to finish regardless. Y’know I feel like Jyushi would’ve liked going to uni. I can’t think of what he’d go to school for though! Would it be adding too much work to a passion if he did something with music theory?

Hitoya...is a lawyer? So yeah? And you have to wonder if Hitoya is a masochist or loves to learn or what have you. Because he was in medical school WITH Jakurai. And then when they part ways, he quits and then goes into LAW. Are you kidding me? Hitoya, Hitoya please...I looked it up, he HAS to be a masochist! Law in Japan is super hard to get into! It has one of the most difficult bar exams to exist! What are you doing, man??? Although...I think Hitoya is still fairly new as a lawyer though because him starting when I assume Jakurai started school at 23, would have him only being fully practicing for 5 years. And that’s assuming he dropped out the first year and not later...which would only shrink he years outside. Unless whatever he got for his bachelors was applicable for law too (behavioral science?)...either way, yes he’s done it and he sure does do a lot to beat a guy that doesn’t even know they’re competing.

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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Say It | Draco x Reader

Prompt as requested by anon: You and Draco both have liked each other since year four, but neither of you want to admit to the other how you feel. So you decide a friendly game of hard to get will make Draco confess his feelings.

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: I’ve been trying to CRANK out these imagines for you guys and getting your requests out there. I am going to close requests for the rest of the week, so I can really deliver the content for you guys and do another multipart imagine for the weekend hehehehe...

A pair of ice blue eyes gazed at you from across the table as its owners smiled softly to himself at the sight of you, writing away in your notebook, taking diligent notes in preparation for exams. He watched as you pushed your hair away from your face, getting annoying and giving in to tying it back into a low ponytail. You bit down on your lower lip, concentration on the material sat in front of you. You were in the zone. You finally acknowledged that someone was indeed staring at you and you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. A small smile danced on your lips as you spoke, “Take a picture. It’ll last longer, Malfoy.”

Draco let out a light chuckle. “I can’t enjoy the view?” he asked you.

You placed your quill down to take a look at the boy sat in front of you. “Haven’t you heard?” you sarcastically ask. “Staring at people without them knowing is creepy.”

“You didn’t know I was staring at you?” Draco teases which makes you blush. He always knew how to come back at you.

The two of you liked each other and it was clear as day. Everyone around you knew it. All of your friends, all of the students in your year, even your professors picked up on it. But the two of you were so stubborn that neither of you wanted to admit your feelings to the other in fear that they would be admitting defeat. This has been going on since year four and now you two were in year six, still not together. You hadn’t even kissed. Nothing.

Shaking your head, you return to your work, a smile still plastered on Draco’s face as you continued your studies. There were lots of things that Draco liked about you. Obviously, you were beautiful. But it was more than that. He liked how strong willed you like himself. You were driven and ambitious. You weren’t afraid to stand up for yourself and others, putting people in their place with just a glare. Draco adored how strong you were on the outside, but a complete mush on the inside when it came to your family and friends. There was so much to like that it made Draco unable to think straight at times.

Draco so desperately wanted to make you his. He wanted to tell you everything about how he has felt about for the past two years. But even though he knew how much you liked him, he still feared rejection. That you would think he wasn’t worthy of someone like you. That you would prefer someone who’s family wasn’t so snooty or prestigious. These thoughts often circulated throughout his head and could drive him close to insanity, wondering what you would do if he asked you to be his.

“Haven’t you had enough studying for today?” he whines as you continue to keep your head buried in your work. You didn’t take exams lightly. Although you liked having fun as much as the next person, your academia always came first. It was your responsibility to do well in school and be better than the next student. You didn’t feel obligated to do it for anyone; you were a good student for yourself. You wanted to prove to yourself that you were just as capable of being brilliant like other students similar to Hermione Granger. “You could use a distraction,” Draco teases.

You roll your eyes, “Are you suggesting that I may be more interested in what you have to offer?” Draco raises his hands in defense. You chuckle, closing your book, surrendering to the blonde Slytherin in front of you. “Well, let me hear your sales pitch, Malfoy.”

Draco sits up in his chair, eye staring into yours. Merlin, you had beautiful eyes. It’s like he saw the galaxy in your eyes. Such a beautiful hue, blinking with joy, curiosity, and cleverness. “I don’t know what to do to sell you, (Y/L/N),” Draco confessed. Which was true. He didn’t know what to do or what to say. What else could he possible do to prove that he liked you and wanted to make you his?

Sucking on your teeth, you feign disappointment. “Not the words I was looking for. What a pity,” you tease as he grins. “Just means I’ll have to postpone buying your product longer than anticipated.”

Before Draco can even ask what that means, you had grabbed your things and left the library with a saucy smirk on your lips. “Merlin, she’ll be the death of me,” he breathes out. Draco sits there, thinking of what he has to do to prove himself to you.

-----

You return to your room, peeling your cardigan off of your body as your roommate, Daphne, sits on her bed. She catches the goofy grin on your face as you place your things away, tucking them into their respective drawers. “Smiling about Malfoy?” she laughs as you ignore her. Daphne knew first hand how much you liked Draco. Ever since year four, you would ramble on and on about him and how much you liked the boy. She would roll her eyes and tell you that you should make a move as your eyes would widen in fear and earn her a ‘are you mental?’ in response. “(Y/N), you like the bloke so much and you know how he feels about you. How many hoops are you going to make him jump through?” she sits up as you plop yourself next to her.

“It’ll come to an end soon,” you confess. “I’ve planted the seed. Now, we wait,” you tell her as she furrows her brows, confused. “Meaning, I told him he needs to sell me on reasons I should want to be his girlfriend. I’ll give him a hard time about it, but I’ll give in.”

Daphne just laughs wildly at you, now your turn to be confused. “Oh, silly little (Y/N). Do you know what you just got yourself into?” she asks, placing a hand on your leg, trying to reassure you about the decision you’ve made. “You challenged Draco Malfoy to a game he will crush you in. I remember when Draco had a two week crush on Tracey Davis and he sent her owls that carried roses to her room every morning and night. And that crush lasted two weeks! Yours has been two years in the making.”

Maybe Daphne was right, this was a mistake. But you kind of wanted to see just how far the boy would go to show you how much he wanted you. That night you went to sleep with excitement and nervousness about what Draco would have in store for you tomorrow.

The morning came quickly as you awoke, still groggy. You slide on your slippers when there is a knock at the door. Yawning, you open the door and on the floor near the door is about six dozen red roses and a small card on the top of the pile of flowers. You open the white card and in Draco’s handwriting reads: Challenge Accepted. Xo, Malfoy

You can’t help but smile.

“You’re bloody joking,” Daphne says from behind you as you shrug, picking up a flower, sniffing its pleasant scent. “I am not picking that up. Malfoy has a crush on you, not me.”

After getting ready in uniform and ready for the day, you make your way to the Great Hall for breakfast. When you sit down with Daphne, Draco is immediately sat to your left. You sip on your pumpkin juice as Draco starts, “Receive anything interesting at your doorstep this morning?”

Hiding your smile, you turn to him and furrow your eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Draco rolls his eyes and scoots closer to you. “Did you get my gift?” he asks.

You scoot away from him, teasingly. “No, actually. There was absolutely nothing in front of my doorstep today. A big pile of nothing,” you tell him as Daphne almost spits out her juice.

Draco recognizes what you are doing as just shakes his head. He then leans in closer and whispers, “This is nowhere near over,” in your ear. The motion brings goosebumps to your skin before he leaves just as quickly as he came.

Sitting there for a moment in silence, you let your heart rate calm down before sipping on your pumpkin juice again and taking a bit of your toast. “I told you this was a war you didn’t want to get involved in,” Daphne sing songs as you kick her underneath the table. “Ow! What’s that for now? Just because you two are stubborn doesn’t mean you have to take it out on my shins!”

-----

And oh Draco wasn’t lying when he said it wasn’t the end. If flowers weren’t enough, he sent you boxes of chocolate, a new pair of shoes, a dress he knew you liked from the shoppes at Hogsmeade, and he even had the audacity to get the Frog choir to serenade you at dinner one night. It was getting absurd at this point. But with every gift Draco gave you, you played it off like it was nothing. Although Draco didn’t have to do all of this, you just wanted to push his buttons.

Draco on the other hand was running out of ideas quickly. He has thought of everything under the sun that was creative or show stopping to get you to be his. What was next? Did you want him to buy you Hogwarts castle? He could probably do it if he tried hard enough...

He was beside himself. Tonight, he laid on his bed, staring at his ceiling, just wondering what you wanted out of him. He thought of you in his mind’s eyes and all of his worries seemed to melt away. The thought of you laughing and smiling made his chest warm and head fuzzy. He dreamt of you snuggled up to him on his bed, him kissing the top of your head, drawing small circles into your hip bones. He wanted you to be his so desperately. It was a deep need. He knew that if you asked him, he would go to the ends of the world for you and come back with whatever you wanted. Draco didn’t want to admit it, but deep down he knew he was in love. No other feeling was this strong.

You sat on your bed, looking at the gifts that Draco had gifted you over the course of the past week. Every single one more beautiful than the previous one. But none of this wanted to make you run into his arms and say yes. That just seemed selfish. Although you wanted to do this to tease Draco and drive him a mid mad, all you really wanted was to hear Draco say the words, “I want you.” That was it. Simple as that.

But of course, it was in Draco’s nature to overcomplicate things and get showing affection confused with material items. You couldn’t blame him though. That’s how he was raised by his parents. They showed their love for him through gifts and material wealth. But in turn this made Draco believe that that was the only was of showing affection rather than using his words or other actions.

Sighing, you place his gifts elsewhere, out of sight as you tuck into bed for the night. “Nothing?” Daphne asks as you shake your head. “He’s going to say it. Mark my words, he’ll do it, (Y/N),” she says as you can only hope he will. “He’ll come around.”

-----

The next day rolled around and you weren’t as well rested as you had hoped. You had stayed up tossing and turning, wondering if Draco was thinking of you the way you were thinking of him. You begrudgingly get dressed and imagine what gift Draco has for you today. You’d be surprised if he could top the Frog choir. That would be an achievement.

But there was no gift today. No flowers, no chocolate, no clothes, no Frog choir, nothing. You waited for something to catch you off guard, but your day was normal. Which kind of worried you. Did he plan something for the evening? But at dinner, there was nothing. You ate your meal with your friends at one of the Slytherin tables, waiting for Draco’s arrival, but nothing. In fact, you didn’t see Draco at all that day.

You started to get a little concerned. Did something happen to him? Is he sick? Did he get hurt? Is he looking for you? Thoughts flood through your head, but you take your mind off things by engaging in conversation with the people around you.

Finally, you return back to your dormitory for the night, surprised that nothing happened today. Completely uneventful. It was a bummer; you looked forward to teasing Draco again today.

You slipped into your nightclothes and took your hair down from its ponytail, shaking it out along with the worries and anxieties of the day. As you pull back your sheets, you hear a knock at the door. You had assumed it was Daphne, considering she wasn’t back in the room yet and she had forgotten her keys yet again. “Daph, you have to remember your keys. I won’t always be home,” you look up and don’t see Daphne, but instead Draco. “Oh. Hi.”

Draco looks exhausted. Like he hasn’t gotten sleep at all. He has bags under his eyes and his face looks a little paler than normal. He stands before you in his clothes from yesterday. Your concern for his well being rises. But before you can say anything further, he talks. “I don’t know what else to do to prove that I like you, (Y/N). I’ve done it all, but I’m going to do one last thing and if you still don’t want me after this, then I will stop by all means,” he says as you just watch him. “I thought about what I wanted to say to you all day and all night, but all I can say is this. I am my happiest when I am around you. You never fail to make me laugh. You make my head fuzzy and my chest warm and you make me want to be a better person which is just absurd,” he confesses making you giggle. “I like you, (Y/N). I want you to be mine. Please. Be mine.”

And with that, you waste no time in kissing the poor bloke in front of you. The moment your lips touch, his arms are wrapped around you. Your hands cup his face, pulling him close. The kiss is full of all of the longing and wanting you both had been doing for the past two years. It’s sweet and kind and passionate and hungry all at the same, making your head reel and your stomach do flips. It felt otherworldly.

As you pull away, the both of you breathless, you say, “That’s all you had to do. You just had to say it.”

Draco’s face drops. “You’re bloody joking,” he huffs. “I spent so much money on all of those gifts and you just wanted me to say some sappy words? That’s the dumbest things I’ve ever heard!” he exclaims as you laugh, kissing him again, sweetly. “I guess it was worth it,” he shrugs.

That night, you both fall asleep in your bed, Draco cuddling you from behind as you both have the best night sleep of your life. As you sleep, Daphne comes it and notices you two curled up together. “Finally,” she exhales with a smile.

#draco #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco x female reader #draco x you #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy oneshot #draco malfoy fanficiton #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco x reader #hp #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagine

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potatoesforash · 4 years ago

Text

Ghostbur x reader- Ghostly love

Y/n’s POV

Walking along the path to the clearing in the forest where my cottage resides I notice a change in the weather and very quickly realise it was beginning to rain. Sighing to my self I start to slow my pace in walking enjoying the rain as it hit my skin. My cloak getting soaked but at this moment I could care less and that's when I hear it, a voice coming from behind me. It was soft almost distant but it was loud enough for me to hear. Looking in front of me I see my cottage that I could just run to but out of the kindness of my hart I turn to look at the person behind me. I was shocked to find a pale man with a large gash in his middle looking at me as if nothing happened.

"Hi sorry to bother you but do you think I could possibly come in?" the strange man said

"you see I'm a ghost and I melt in the rain and I would really not like to be out here for long" he added to his previous statement rubbing the back of his ghost head

"Uhh sure thing bud" I say telling him to follow me. Walking into my home the man follows behind rather fast and sits him self in front of my couch facing the fire place that was still blazing.

"This is a nice place you have here" He said looking back at me "If you don't mind me asking what aesthetic is this? Its nice but confusing" He asks

"Oh its Dark Academia and Cottage core mixed into one I um I picked it up from my old friend who taught me everything I know" I say trying not to drop any hints that could get me possibly killed by Dream

"So he was like your professor?" He asks looking at me with a twinkle in his eye

"you could say that" Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Turning to face the door that I hadn't moved from since we got in opening it slightly to find two rather tall men in front of me one with pink hair and one with blonde hair covered by a hat of some sorts, suddenly I feel the ghost man's presence behind me.

"Hello, can I help you two men?" I ask politely opening the door more for them to get a proper look at me

"Yes you can we were told that you could help us with a little problem" the blonde man starts all of a sudden the ghost behind me shouts a loud Phil and the blonde and Pink haired men look at me suspiciously. The pink man quickly draws his sword and holds the tip of it to my thought

"Why is Ghostbur here?" the man asks me with his rough sounding voice

"If I was you I would put your sword down before you regret it" I respond and he just chuckles at me

"What are you going to do-" He asks but is quickly shut up when his sword has been thrown into the clearing far enough away from him so he could not reach it without having to move away from the door. He slowly looks at my hands to see that I have a stick (so he thought) in my hand

"What did you do?" He asks in a threatening tone

"I warned you but you did not heed it so I will ask you this once and once only who-" before I got to question the men in front of me ghostbur spoke up interrupting me

"This is my brother Technoblade and this is my dad Philza" pointing at both the men "she was just letting me stay till it stopped raining she meant no harm" he says putting a hand on my shoulder making a shiver run up my spine, his hand was freezing like ice, Looking back at the two men in front of me I come to the conclusion to speak up finaly

"What did you two want? And how did you find this place" Techno looked at me like he wanted to kill me and Phil just sighs and takes off his hat

"us three where supposed to come find you together but Wil here wandered off and found you we where told you where a necromancer of some kind and where hoping that you could bring my son here back from the dead?" Phil asked with hopeful eyes

"I-I'm sorry I don't do that anymore not since Dream had threatened me with execution if I ever did it again considering what happened the last time" I say looking back at the eyes of this ghosts father "But I can provide warmth, tea and shelter considering night is falling near and it hasn't stopped raining." I say giving Phil a sad smile

"That would be wonderful thank you..." He stops realising that I haven't told any of them my name

"Oh its Y/n my names Y/n" I say moving to the side to let the boys into my house which they gladly step in out of the cold.

*Time skip to later on in the night*

Ghostbur's POV

Me and Y/n sat on her couch enjoying each others company while Phil and Techno shared her bed.

"I just realised your the necromancer that Tommy keeps going on about!" I shout with a chuckle

"Tommy? As in the kid who came to me because he needed some where to hide because of my brother Dream?" she says to me and I look at her shocked

"Your brother is Dream?" I ask in a quiet scared voice like she would hurt me at any time

"Hey don't worry I'm not going to hurt you I'm nothing like the heartless basterd of a brother I have, he threatened me with execution his own sister, so ive got nothing for him anymore" she says tears welling in her eyes. Reaching out to touch her cheek with my icy hand I wipe any tears that had been shed away from her cheek. I look at her up and down and only now I realise that she has a scar running over her eye brow and down towards her soft looking lips. I let out a sight and pull her into a hug rubbing their back giving them a kiss on the head. It was around four thirty in the morning when I realise she fell asleep in my cold dead arms. I can't help but think, think that if I had been alive when I met her maybe then I would stand a chance to get with her. Wait no bad Ghostbur you have only just met her...But for some reason I cant help but be infatuated with her. Just everything about this young woman interests me. Her pretty H/l H/c hair, her E/c eye's and her soft pink lips that just look pleasant to feel against my own. But I have just met her so why do I feel like this? Why do I feel this way about her?

"Son?" I hear Phil's voice come from in front of me "Why are you crying?" He asks looking confused

"Dad, I um It's uh It's stupid really" I say wiping my own tears away

"You can tell me kiddo" He says smiling sitting in front of the glowing fire

"Dad when you met mum how did you know that you like her?" I ask subconsciously rubbing Y/n's back

"Well your mother was all I could think about at any point of the day, Why do you ask son" He replied looking at me in the eyes making me look back down at the sleeping girl on my chest to which he lets out a small 'oh'

"I don't know what to do i just met her and she's all I can think about and it feel so wrong yet so right but I'm also dead and I just I don't know any more Phil!" I say getting louder as I go on feeling Y/n stir in my arms i stop and look down at her seeing that she was still asleep I look back at Dad to see him smirking

"Well I think you've got a chance considering that were the only people she talks to other than villagers for trades" He says getting up and patting me on the shoulder "Try to get some sleep son" with that he walks away back to bed to sleep

*Time skip to 4 months down the line cuz I'm a lazy writer*

Y/n's POV

It's been four months since I met Ghostbur and I met and I have found myself slowly falling for the dead man. But the one thing that has made me realise that is the fact that he has basically moved in with me. But what I didn't realise is that through the forest from my clearing there is a snow biome where Techno's retirement home was sat. But that meant that when my brother went to find Tommy at Techno's house I got a lovely visit from my dick head of a brother.

"Why hello there sister, Ghostbur" He said just waltzing in my front door

"Dream what do you want?" I say to him with an angry look

"What can I pay a visit to my sister?" he asked coming farther into my home that used to be ours till he left for the SMP

"You don't get to say that I'm your sister after you threatened to kill me" I say looking him in that blank lifeless looking mask with the twisted psychopathic smile painted in black.

"Oh sister dearest you know why I threatened you with that and you know what you did to our mother" He said looking over at Ghostbur who had a confused face "Oh you haven't told your little friend here what you did? How you killed our mother in cold blood?" he said trying to gas light me to get a bad reaction out of me

"That's quite enough Dream. I want you to get out of my house now. And I never. Never want you to step foot inside of this house for as long as you live" I say in anger drawing my sword and pointing it at him. He rises his hands in the air and spins on his heels towards the door starting to retreat out of here

"Okay sister but just so you know I will not hesitate to kill you if you step out of line" He said disappearing out of my line of sight. After what felt like eternity I felt Ghostbur's hand on my shoulder and turn me towards his cold body pulling me into a hug

"was what he said...True?" he asks me all I can do is nod my shaky ands grab onto his jumper

"I'm sorry, I if you hate me that's fine I probably deserve it" I say into his chest

"hay no, I don't hate you I just want to know what happened" he said rubbing my back softly

"I...I was born with magic but only one person every one hundred years is born....so at the age of sixteen some people came to take me away but my mum got in the way and....they killed her and well Dream has blamed me for it saying I killed her that it was my fault...But I would never kill my own mother I loved her so much and so if you go outside to the back of the house there is a small grave for her that I made after he left that same day for the SMP when he was seventeen and that's the day he threatened to execute me if I ever try to bring those people anywhere near him so... after they taught me magic they left and they swore never to come near me again" I explained to him all of a sudden Wil let go of me and ran to his room and came back with something blue in his hands

"Your sad hare have some blue it will make yo better" he said handing me the blue automatically making me feel better

"Thank you Ghostbur I feel better now" I say looking up at him to find him staring at me with admiration on his face "hey Will? you okay there?" I ask him but I got no response but before I could ask him again I felt a cold pressure press on my lips It took me a couple seconds before I realised that it was the ghost boys lips and kissed back putting one of my hands on his cheek and the other on his shoulder his hands going around my waist. Pulling away from his lips and press my forehead to his and giggle.

"Phil told me I needed to do that at some point" he said a small smile on his face "I um Y/n if you couldn't already tell I really like you and I would love for you to be my girlfriend" He said to me

"Of course Will! I really like you too" I say leaning back into his cold soft lips kissing him again this time for longer than the last. Every kiss got longer and longer before eventually we where sat on the couch making out. But the make out session was cut short when the loud child burst into the house with Phil shouting after him and Techno not far behind him all three stopping at the door when they see the sight before them and Will And I pull away from each other embarrassed

"Well then... uh I think we will come back later come on boys" Phil says dragging his two other sons out behind him shutting the door quickly leaving me and Ghostbur alone again both of us look at each other and we start laughing soon enough falling asleep in each others arms in front of the crackling fire.

And Ghostbur swore that he could feel warmth after months of not being able to feel it and it was all because of me and loving the sweet ghost boy.

Ayyyyyyy its me here and have this sweet fluff for Ghostbur but I didn't plan on spending four fucking hours on this. Its longer than I spend on my school work which hopefully shows my dedication to this poor book.

#wilbur soot x reader #ghostbur #dream smp #x reader #fluff #fanfics

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makeste · 5 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 272: (Directed by Michael Bay)

Previously on BnHA: The My Child Soldiers Academia arc finally started to live up to its name as Tokoyami became the first (but I assure you not the last) victim of traumatic mental scarring courtesy of Horikoshi’s sick games! So he and Dark Shadow showed up to stop Dabi from murdering Hawks and were all “please don’t kill our mentor.” Dabi was all “AH BUT YOUR MENTOR KILLED SOMEONE ELSE, AND ISN’T THAT JUST LIKE THE HEROES THOUGH, THEIR HANDS ARE SO STAINED WITH BLOOD” and then he tried to set both of them on fire several times in succession. Hawks was all “Tokoyami just run away while he’s in the middle of his five-hour sermon” and so they tried but Dabi followed them! But then Geten was all “ALL RIGHT EVERYONE... CHILL” and fucking froze everything for no discernible reason, and Tokoyami fled the building with an unconscious Hawks in tow as the battle raged on. The chapter then ended with Gigantomachia being all “I smell my master!” and standing up, hahaha oh fuck.

Today on BnHA: Well you guys are not going to believe this, but it turns out that Tomura waking up is actually a very bad thing. A “worst case scenario” if you will! Because, get this, he has a quirk that can destroy anything, which spreads from whatever he touches to fucking everything and everywhere else. Gosh, if only we’d known about this since like 35 chapters ago. If only we’d had a spy among the villains who could have warned us, and three entire months to plan our attack, and literally every single hero in Japan on call to help us when the time came. Anyway so you’re really going to be shocked by this I’m telling you, but it turns out that when a crazy powerful person who wants to destroy everything finally wakes up, he immediately starts destroying everything with his crazy power. So X-Less dies and Crust dies and everyone else runs, and meanwhile the kids, who are on the outskirts of the city finishing up the evacuation, stand there in shock as the plot rampages toward them ready to swallow them whole. The chapter ends with Deku powering up to FORTY-FIVE PERCENT YEAHHHHH, and oh shit. Finally we’re doing this.

I am not even remotely done with all the shit I’m supposed to be finishing up, but fuck it, I need a break and reading the new chapter is by far the funnest thing on my current to-do list, so!

OH SNAPS MY BOY HAS FINALLY OPENED HIS EYES

IT ONLY TOOK HIM... OKAY LOOK I’M NOT GOING TO GO BACK AND COUNT ALL OF THE CHAPTERS, BUT LET’S SAY... FIFTEEN. ...HUNDRED. CHAPTERS TO FINALLY SNAP TO IT AND COME JOIN THE PARTY. BUT IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT! PROBABLY. AHH LET’S JUST READ ON

-- ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygodohm --

[puts on glasses and unfolds map while poring through a mess of scribbles on post-it notes] -- hold up, if my calculations are correct, I’m pretty sure “somewhere a bit further from the hospital” is, in fact, where a certain THREE TROUBLE-PRONE DISASTERS ARE CURRENTLY HOLED UP. AHHH

can it really be true. are we finally rejoining our protagonist and his buddy cop friends after 97 years. how will everyone react to Deku reacting to Tomura waking up ahhhh

so Burnin’ is yelling at the civilians to let them know if they have any family or friends who need assistance evacuating

god I hate the fact that this is a fucking understatement

they’re not taking any chances after Kamino and Fukuoka huh. fool them once, shame on you. fool them twice, oh shit. but there will not be a third time! no one fucking destroys three cities in the span of six months on their watch, no sirree

(ETA: ...)

lol the kids are trying to get the elderly citizens on a bus to evacuate, but a lady is trying to give them candy and Kacchan and Ochako are of two different minds on whether or not to accept

Kacchan is absolutely right about Ochako’s motivations, but in her defense, who the fuck turns down free chocolate

IIDA!!

FUCKING CHRIST JAPAN IT’S 200 YEARS IN THE FUTURE AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T SWITCHED TO DIGITAL RECORD-KEEPING? WHY IS THIS THE MOST REALISTIC THING IN THE ENTIRE MANGA TO DATE. MY GOOD SIR, IIDA IS LYING THROUGH HIS TEETH, ALL RECORDS AND BUILDINGS ABSOLUTELY CAN AND WILL BE COMPLETELY OBLITERATED IN THE CARNAGE TO COME. I’M SORRY TO BE THE ONE TO INFORM YOU OF THIS, BUT DAMN IT SOMEONE HAS TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY

(ETA: I sure hope these poor bastards had good insurance.)

also. this man here who looks like Beaker from the Muppets, who presumably has the power of Doing Anything Those Wacky Flailing Inflatable Tube Men That You See Outside Of Car Dealerships Can Do. ...yes. that’s it. that’s an intentionally incomplete sentence with a subject but no predicate. I just feel like we should all sit and stare at him for a good thirty more seconds before continuing on with our lives

OH MY GOD

THEY’RE EVACUATING THE PETS TOO AHHHH. EXCUSE ME CERTAIN SOMEONES WHO THINK ALL HEROES ARE “DIRTY.” I SEE YOUR ARGUMENTS AND RAISE YOU THIS ONE SINGLE PANEL. YEAH THAT’S RIGHT. NOW WHAT DABI. AT A LOSS FOR WORDS I SEE. YOU JUST SIT AND PONDER THAT FOR A WHILE

is... this... a space shuttle man

is this literally just a man with a Boeing for a head. FUCKING QUIRKS THOUGH!!!!! ~*~wild~*~

OH MY GOD AND WE’RE BACK

time for some HORCRUX SHENANIGANS!! IS YOUR LIGHTNING BOLT SCAR BURNING DEKU. I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED IS BACK AHHHH

so now he’s slightly hunching forward with his hands pressed together and Todoroki is immediately sensing that something is wrong ahhhhh

(ETA from like 5 days later: I had that as “Tokoyami” instead of “Todoroki” for the better part of a solid week you guys. SHOUTO YOU WERE GONE FOR SO LONG I FORGOT YOUR FUCKING NAME whoop.)

here come dat angst. here comes Horikoshi’s hand beckoning the trio closer and welcoming them to the pain parade ahhh. from now on that’s how I’m ending all my sentences btw. it just seems right. ahhh

OH MY LORD OH MY

ladies and gentlemen, YOU WERE SAYING DEKU DIDN’T HAVE ENOUGH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT LATELY? HE’S NOT INTERESTING ENOUGH AS A PROTAGONIST, IS HE? well maybe that’s because Horikoshi has been saving this one juiciest of plot nuggets for a rainy day precisely like this! BRING ON THAT CHOSEN ONE ANGST AHHHHH

anyway so yes it is indeed OFA speaking to him in the form of Lil Bro a.k.a. the first user

lol I’m trying to think of commentary but it’s difficult seeing as I’M ALREADY SCROLLING DOWN TO IMPATIENTLY READ THE NEXT PAGE

lmao the fuck

okay Princess Zelda. can you get any more flowery with those descriptions though. A TRANSCENDENT BEING. A SUPERLATIVE ENTITY. A SUBLIME, PREEMINENT ORGANISM. FREED FROM ITS SHACKLES. UNFETTERED BY ALL EARTHLY LIMITATIONS

OH MY GOD

it absolutely boggles my mind that this guy is somehow still alive. ??! how many chapters and panels has it been now. he’s like the goat in the t-rex pen in fucking Jurassic Park. WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO GET EATEN ALREADY

...

do you... want a blanket. ...?

(ETA: do you ever just. wake up and you’re like “ah shit it’s cold”, and then you destroy an entire city. mm.)

do you all suppose X-Less is fully aware that he’s about to die though? he hasn’t even moved. I imagine that sitting next to Tomura actually is much like sitting next to a giant t-rex. like he has to know there is no getting out of this alive. poor guy

damn Mic isn’t even looking back he’s just running back into the main room where all the rest of them are

wow this fight is still going on

I don’t know why, I just expected it to all magically be over all of a sudden now that we have bigger things to worry about. do you guys remember when we were all worried about the High End Noumus being the biggest threat. hahahahaha

(ETA: moment of silence for ALL OF THE FUCKING HIGH ENDS lmao. that did not go how I expected that plotline to go AT ALL, but at least we got the best fucking battle in the entire manga out of it.)

jesus CHRIST ENOUGH WITH THIS

WE GET IT TOMURA IS DANGEROUS AND SCARY AND EVIL AND AWAKE!!! JUST PLEASE GET TO IT ALREADY GOD I’M BEGGING YOU

FINALLY

goddammit. my reaction to this should have been much more “!!!” and “OH SHIT”, but he dragged it out so much that my initial reaction was one more of relief than horror. maybe it’s because of the way I read the chapters, constantly pausing to do commentary as I go along, but whenever a chapter has a ton of panels of people just staring into the distance awash with dread, it really stands out to me lol. there’s only so much I can write about that kind of thing. ah well at least we’re finally getting to the action

I genuinely can’t tell if Ujiko is frightened that he’s about to be disintegrated by Tomura’s quirk, or excited that Tomura is awake

maybe both lol. well don’t worry you’re not gonna die that easily, much as you would not catch me complaining if you did

thanks Gran

lol where was all this speed throughout the rest of this arc though. “we’re only competent when the plot necessitates it” huh. is that right

oh shit it’s destroying the rest of the lab

those are all of Ujiko’s collected quirks, right? someone please tell me if this is a good or a bad thing. on the one hand if they’re all destroyed it means Tomura can’t get them and Ujiko can’t make any more Noumus. but on the other hand this means they won’t ever be able to give them back to the original users (if any of them are even still alive). and also that’s a lot of evidence that’s being wiped out as well

oh shit they didn’t know about this?!

even after Deika City, you didn’t put two and two together?? even with all of Hawk’s intel?? what the hell did you think happened there?

well this explains why everyone was so la-dee-da-no-rush about capturing him though. well that’s on you guys. next time maybe don’t waste 20 minutes uselessly battling redshirt Noumus while Mirko has to do everything herself

anyway so I feel like people other than X-Less are almost certainly going to die here, and fuck. I’m not ready for any of this

AHH THE KIDS

BIT SLOW ON THE UPTAKE THERE KACCHAN LOL. FOR A MOMENT YOU HAD ME WORRIED THERE WAS SOMEHOW A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT THREAT APPROACHING FROM THE OTHER SIDE, BEFORE YOU TURNED AROUND TO LOOK WHERE THE OTHERS WERE LOOKING

ALSO JUST A FRIENDLY REMINDER THAT SHOUTO’S DAD IS IN THAT HOSPITAL, ALONG WITH THEIR TEACHER! HERE. COME. DAT. ANGST

LOOK AT THIS CONSPICUOUSLY INTACT BUILDING AS IT STANDS THERE ALL OMINOUSLY WITH THE NEARBY BIRDS AND CRITTERS FRANTICALLY FLYING AWAY

I want to see it crumble so bad. now this is the kind of foreboding cinematic disaster movie bullshit I can get into

FFFF WHY IS THIS PANEL SO HARD TO SEE

THERE’S TOO MUCH CHAOS AND TOO MANY PEOPLE LOST AMIDST ALL THESE SHATTERING AND FALLING TUBES, BUT I NEED TO MAKE SURE EVERYONE IS SAFE AHHH

...okay so I see Ryuukyuu in the top right, and I think that’s RockLockRock on her back. Thirteen is clearly there in the bottom center, but I don’t know who that is next to them. and then of course Gran and Mic on the left. and a bunch of others spread out in various other places, but... where the hell is Aizawa??

OH THANK GOD

FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI, I KNOW FULL WELL YOU’RE NOT JUST GOING TO KILL OFF THE WORLD’S PREEMINENT DAD STRAIGHT UP OUT OF THE BLUE HERE, AND YET I STILL FELT ANXIETY AT THIS LAST PANEL. HOW DID YOU EVEN

BITCH YOU BETTER LET THE FUCK GO BEFORE I --

!!!

oh my god I gasped in real life. stop making me fear for the lives of main characters!!

he. he --. crust. he. ...

I literally stopped reading and had to stop and cover my mouth with both of my hands I’m

silence. no screaming. no flailing. no freaking out. just silence

shit. rest in peace you old sedimentary bastard. respect to you for saving the father of my children in your last fleeting moments. I still have not the slightest idea how you rose through the ranks to somehow become the sixth fucking highest rated hero (HERO BILLBOARD CHART, IS EVERYTHING ALL RIGHT. ARE YOU FEELING OKAY), but you sure did go out with style though

also this may be tacky of me to point out during such an emotionally charged moment, but one second Aizawa is wearing his goggles like normal, and the next they’re suddenly pushed up onto his forehead so we can see the anguish in his bloodshot eyes. there was no reason to do that other than angst and we all know it. so yes Shouta you dramatic bitch, I am calling you out. why Horikoshi felt he had to add to your many accumulated traumas is beyond me. you don’t deserve this and I am so, so sorry

OH GOOD I WAS JUST ABOUT TO ASK WHERE THE FUCK ENDEAVOR WAS

seeing as we just went over this with Gran, I will take the high road here and won’t ask why you’re only this fast now and couldn’t have been this useful this ages ago back before Tomura woke up. oh wait does sarcastically saying I won’t bring it up count as bringing it up. well whatever. middle road, then

sob I’m getting flashbacks to the end of Return of the Jedi when they’re all frantically flying out of the Death Star as it explodes

friendly reminder that Ryuukyuu, clearly the fastest one here despite carrying like 20 people, was number 10 in the rankings for some unknown reason. again, r.i.p. Crust you well-meaning geriatric soul

also just a stray thought, I hope it’s clear now why it was so important to give Deku those additional quirks. at a minimum he needs Blackwhip and Float just so he doesn’t instantly die the moment he’s in Tomura’s general vicinity. sob I’ve joked so much about flying quirks and here they are becoming fucking prerequisites now

anyway so Ujiko is mourning the loss of his lab, which again, good riddance mostly. but r.i.p. that evidence though

(ETA: nah the “total loss” part is referring to how the heroes fucked up so soundly and thoroughly. anyway no one would blame Mic if he accidentally dropped Ujiko in the midst of all this chaos, I’m just saying. I guess they need any intel he could still provide now more than ever though.)

OH MY GOD!!

LAUNDRY HERO WASH?! THIS SUDSY BOI CAN ACTUALLY KICK ASS WHAAAAT

oh my god oh my god it’s still spreading??!

fuck fuck fuck at this rate it’ll reach the kids

(ETA: that happened really fast actually.)

-- oh FUCK NO you had better NOT FUCKING TOUCH FUCKING PIXIE BOB, I WILL MAIL MYSELF TO JAPAN PANDEMIC OR NO PANDEMIC. DO YOU NOT SEE THE SIGN THAT SAYS “OFF-LIMITS.” RESPECT THE SIGN

SOB SHE’S SO BADASS BUT IT LOOKS LIKE IT’S STILL DISINTEGRATING FUCCCCCK. FUCK MY LIFE, FUCK EVERYTHING

AHHHHH

I can’t tell if her earthbending was able to stop it or not?? god help us all if it didn’t, I’m not even sure what else could stop it at this point

SHUT UP UJIKO!!

they really did. only to fuck it up completely at the finish line. well, the man most singularly responsible for it is dead now, again r.i.p. Crust you useless old legend

lmao despite myself

“by a miracle, or maybe through sheer will” even he acknowledges that Tomura waking up was basically complete bullshit. yes blah blah yadda yadda got zapped by some exposed wires explanation science. because we all know that getting electrocuted will fix you right up when your heart has stopped and you have completely flatlined. you can definitely trust Horikoshi on this and there’s absolutely no need to google how defibrillators actually work

also is he somehow wearing a cape now. again by a miracle or maybe through sheer will

YESSSSSSS

(ETA: one has to wonder what Ujiko’s plan was, assuming this scheme had actually played out. were they just banking on Tomura not waking up cranky and disoriented and wanting to test out his power. his quirk doesn’t exactly distinguish friend from foe here I’m just saying.)

the part of me that goes all “ooh ahh” when all the buildings explode in Independence Day is singing inside. but never fear, the rest of me is appropriately horrified though. what was that Burnin’ was saying about the city becoming a large-scale battle zone? sob

also this page sure serves as a nice refresher for exactly why Tomura Waking Up Was Bad, which was inexplicably a topic of some debate in recent weeks. yes in spite of everything the villains are still the bad guys who’d have thought. almost as if the purpose of humanizing a character is to show that they’re human, not that they’re right

WHAT’S THIS NOW???

WELL I’LL BE. IT’S BEEN AN EVENTFUL THREE MONTHS, APPARENTLY!??

HOOAHHHHHHHH

IT’S A BIRD IT’S A PLANE IT’S A BADASS OH SHIIIIITTTTTT

finally finally finally!!!!!!

THE SHIT HAS HIT THE FAN, REPEAT, THE SHIT HAS HIT THE PROVERBIAL FAN. THE PLOT IS FINALLY HAPPENING, REPEAT, THE PLOT IS FINALLY FUCKING HAPPENING AHHHHHH

and there is no one coming to save them this time. no one to arrive at the last second and say “it’s all right now because I am here.” they have to save themselves. they have to save everyone. the training wheels are finally coming off. the safety net has been removed. after 272 chapters, the story has finally reached a point where these kids, these children, who in spite of all they’ve been through have been protected and shielded from the worst of it up till now, will finally have to be the ones to save the day all on their own

and they are not ready. but also maybe they kind of are??! but they definitely are not. and oh god oh god oh god, FINALLY WE’RE REALLY DOING THIS. TIME TO FIX THE MESS THOSE SILLY GROWN-UPS MADE, CHILDREN. YOU GOT THIS

#bnha 272 #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #ujiko daruma #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #if the next few chapters don't feature some kind of avengers-style epic team up pose I will sue #what has this all even been building up to if not that #remember that the kids are not allowed to die though horikoshi #remember what we agreed upon #you remember right #right #horikoshi???

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caloroso-cosmos · 4 years ago

Note

unique self ship questions for unique words- endive, limerance, foofaraw, & serendipity ~ rebeccaselfships

Thank you for sending the ask and I’m sorry about the delay in answering 😅

I’ve answered endive and limerance in another ask so I’ve copy and pasted the responses here, I hope it’s alright with you!

Endive - if, under the circumstance, you were able to treat your f/o to a single, beautiful day without a budget, what would it consist of?

✩ I think it would be something quite simple, not extravagant because I think that’s what Jonathan would prefer. We would fly to a city that we’ve never been to before (imagining that there’s no covid) early in the morning. After arriving at our destination, we would have breakfast at a cozy cafe while chatting with each other and just enjoy each other’s company ✨ After breakfast, we would take a walk, perhaps in a park, and just explore the city by walking around. In the afternoon, we would visit the library, because Jonathan loves reading and enjoys visiting different libraries to see what they are like. A museum of some kind is on the cards next, because he likes to expand his knowledge whenever possible so the day wouldn’t be a treat without some way of meeting this need of his （＾－＾）The day would conclude with a visit to an observatory/planetarium to star gaze ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Limerance - gush about your f/o, no limits… but the catch is, gush as if it’s a message directly to your f/o.

✩ A love letter to Jonathan Crane:

Dear Jonathan,

Where shall I begin…I have never written nor received a love letter and have no idea how one would go about starting. Not to mention, all thoughts of logic or writing structure departed from me the moment I sat down to write this letter so I apologize if it ends up being rather chaotic.

Tchaikovsky’s Valse Sentimentale is playing in the background as I write. As the name states, it is a waltz and I cannot help but wonder what it would be like to waltz in your arms. How warm and gentle your touch would be, how wonderful it would be in your presence, and how, despite the lack of an uttered word, you would make me feel loved and connected with you. I hope you will allow me to indulge in this fantasy one day, although I must warn you that I am not a dancer, nor will my movements be particularly nimble, I suspect.

Remembering back to when we first met, you were looking out the balcony door and rain was falling outside. You turned to look at me and you saw, in my eyes, my uncertainty about being there, and the doubtful possibility of being with you romantically. Even then, you put me at ease without the need for words. You understood my uncertainty but you were still there for me regardless. It must have been at least a couple of weeks, if not several, that we spent time in that small space. We didn’t talk, to begin with, but over time we opened up to each other by talking about our days or what was on our minds. I loved this period even though it seemed like not much happened at all. I loved how you never once judged me for being uncertain, your patience when I did not appear, your ability to put me at ease, your understanding of my need for space and time. All of this, even when it was not apparent whether we would end up together or not. I appreciate how you never attempted to make me come to a hasty decision.

Occasionally, my mood took on a turbulent shade, and I would close myself off from you, which was intended as some kind of indication to you that I can be a troublesome person and you should take leave so as not to trouble yourself with this kind of nonsense. But you stayed. You comforted me when it was apparent that it was what I needed, you let me have my own space when it was necessary. When usually, people would attempt to persuade me out of my moods, you let me experience them without judgment or persuasion. I loved this about you. You have been so kind, patient, and understanding to me. Honestly, I think I don’t deserve you or our universe.

We haven’t spent time with each other properly for the past couple of weeks and I really miss you. I miss our conversations, your embrace and kisses, and just you really. I love how we could enjoy each other’s presence without talking like when we read together in the same room. I love the way you look at me, your gaze expressing love, support, and warmth. And that sparkle in your eyes when talking about something you’re passionate about, be it your work, a book you’ve been reading, some new development in your research. I think you are gorgeous, truly, not just in terms of physical appearance, but your personality, your being. That intense look in your eyes when you are concentrating on something, the way you hold your pen when writing, the self-assured yet unassuming way you stand, the calming composure you have, the way you radiate energy when you are excited about something, and so on. Even though we haven’t spent time together properly in the last couple of weeks, whenever I think about you, I feel giddy like a child on Christmas morning, I cannot explain why. All I know is, you make me feel happy and just the thought of you gets me through whatever challenges that I have come my way. Although you never tried to change me in any way, nor to persuade me to do one thing or another, you’ve brought about positive changes in my life outside of our universe. For instance, when I felt unable to get up in the mornings, you would whisper to me that everything would be all right, that I can do whatever my mind has tricked me into thinking I can’t do, and that you would be there whenever I need you. Your words, softly spoken, gave me the energy to begin my days. And you inspired me to do the things I wanted to try/do but didn’t because I had been too afraid to stray from “the norm”, whatever that was.

Please forgive me for this poorly written love letter. I want you to know that I love you even when I am not with you. I hope to be in your presence again very soon.

Your ever-loving,

Autumn

Foofaraw - do your chosen aesthetics line up well with your f/os? meaning, if the two of you were to say, decorate a home, would your chosen styles clash or compliment each other?

✩ Yes, I think our aesthetics are quite similar so our chosen styles complement each other. My chosen aesthetic is dark academia and I think it’s the same/similar for Jonathan ( ^ ᴗ ^ )

Serendipity - how did you first discover your f/o, or your f/os source material? how did you feel when you first saw your f/o in your source material?

✩ I remember watching Batman Begins earlier this year because it was playing on TV. When I saw Jonathan at the time, I didn’t really feel anything - it was like “oh that’s a character, just like any other”; I didn’t pay any particular attention to him. Although, I do remember someone who was watching it with me at the time, making a snarky comment on his composure in intense situations. Some weeks later, Jonathan appeared in my dream one night, that’s when I took notice. (It was a nightmare actually and his role in it was quite unpleasant, makes one wonder how he ended up being my romantic f/o, doesn't it? 😂)

Tagging @the-royal-niffler - you might be interested. You might want to skip to the last two questions (Foofaraw & Serendipity) as I've tagged you in a previous post that included responses to Endive and Limerance already 😊

#unique self ship questions for unique words #thank you for sending in the ask #jonathan crane #nolanverse #self ship community #self shipping #f/o community #romantic f/o #a love letter to jonathan crane #any advice on how to write love letters would be appreciated #sorry I'm not so good at gushing #Tchaikovsky's Valse Sentimentale #dark academia #batman begins #how did Jonathan Crane end up being my romantic f/o despite appearing in one of my nightmares

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parvuls · 4 years ago

Text

fic: in the space between (2/2)

word count: 6.6k

rating: teen

tags: space, science fiction, enemies to friends to lovers, pre-relationship

notes: due to length and tumblr's formatting, reading on ao3 is recommended

(part 1 | part 2 | read on ao3)

“Just a month till we’re home, boys,” Holster announces as he climbs into the bottom bunk across from Eric, addressing the dark room at large. Eric can hear him shift around in his bed, sheets rustling with his movements. “Can I get a hallelujah?”

“You can get pizza,” Ransom replies dreamily from the top bunk above him. “Because Holtzy -- The Real fucking Pep God. You and me, Matty Matheson pepperoni. One month.”

There’s one month left until landing back in Houston and disbanding for three weeks of leave. It’s been creeping up in conversations for weeks now, nestling itself in crew breakfasts and mission briefs and downtime. Shitty waxes poetry about things like dipping his toes into the ocean and breathing that sweet Terra air as often as he talks about smoking three joints at once the moment they set foot on the ground. Holster and Ransom talk about the heaps of food they’ll be shoveling to compensate for a year of outer space cuisine. Jack doesn’t talk about much other than the missions, and Eric thinks about organic chemistry and molecular modeling on good days, thinks about crying on bad ones. He talks about almost anything else to distract himself and hopes to Jesus that no one can tell.

The picture frame on the shelf by his bunk wobbles on its back stand as the ship tips into Krer orbit for the night. Krer itself is dim and murky, obscuring the shining lights of its neighboring planets and cloaking the crew quarters’ portal window in darkness. Jack said that the last mission of this tour should be coming in from Flight Director Hall sometime during the night.

Eric sighs quietly, turns onto his side, and stares blindly at the blank white of the wall as he mentally runs through the primary structure of proteins once more. Holster and Ransom are arguing about the best Toronto pizza in the background, the sound of their voices weaving in with the beeps of the ship’s machinery and the creaking noises of it when in motion.

“You gotta come too, Bittle,” Holster says, drawing Eric’s attention. He rolls his head to the other side, watches Holster’s blurred figure move in the dark to lean over the edge of his bunk. Eric must’ve missed a change of conversation. “Getting together over leave? We spend the last day before launch together, all of us. Y’know, hitting some bar, maybe watching a game, then catching the plane to Texas in the morning. Last time we went to Shitty’s -- man, that was fucking wild sauce.”

“And you gotta meet Lardo,” Ransom adds. “Crew bylaws. Sorry, rookie, everyone’s in.”

There are ten densely-printed pages about prokaryotes crumpled in the back of Eric’s personal locker, that he’s riffled through maybe twice. Eric chews his lip raw, tries to think of a carefully-masqueraded way of brushing the invitation off, but Holster grumbles lowly before he can. “Well, not everyone.”

“Right,” Ransom says, his enthusiastic tone turning slightly hesitant. “But. Us and Shitty and Lardo and probably her trainee Ford. It’s almost everyone.”

It’s almost everyone, plus ground team. “But not Jack,” Eric concludes, unintentionally dismayed. He should know better by now than to be disappointed, probably. He should, but doesn’t.

Holster sighs and throws himself back onto the mattress, bed springs groaning loudly. “Jack doesn’t really do social things. He’s too cool for them. Which -- whatever, man, who cares, it’s probably more fun for us that way. So you in?”

What Eric’s in for is a world of trouble. Eric’s in for the sweltering heat of the Texan desert, he’s in for submerging in textbooks all the way up to his ears, he’s in for never being quite enough for this world. He turns his head back to the other side, facing the wall, and stifles a sigh.

“I’ll think about it,” he promises, and knows that he will, also knows he’d never be able to say yes. He doesn’t leave them enough time to round up on him before he adds, “Now shut your pieholes, gentlemen, some people need their beauty sleep. And by some people I do mean y’all.”

“Really, he means you,” Ransom tells Holster, and there’s the distinct sound of Holster reaching up and whacking the top bunk with a pillow. Eric buries his face in his sheets and tries to think distracting thoughts loudly enough to drown out the constant screeching noise of his worries. That, at least, is something he’s an expert at.

Eric wishes he could say that he spent his entire life looking up to the stars. That would be a lie.

He spent most of his childhood looking at the ground, instead. At the toe picks beneath his feet; at the dough rising in the oven; at the floor of his school’s hallways, trying to avoid eye contact. The sky in Georgia was ordinarily clear, stars blinking in and out of view, but they’d never held much of Eric’s interest. He wouldn’t have known what to search for even if he’d tried.

Eric, aged eighteen, went to college mostly for the going and less for college. New England was as much an escape as it was a destination. He liked some of his classes, didn’t like others -- remained undeclared for most of junior year, bouncing around between classes about food and culture. He put off doing his work for too long and preferred baking to writing essays too often, but it was fine, most of the time. His days were filled with more people than papers and he found that it was exactly the way he liked it.

College was the point Eric realized that, once he’d stopped being too afraid to try, he was really good with people.

“You could charm mountains into moving for you,” his sophomore year roommate told him, not without a hint of exasperation, when Eric fretted about meeting his first boyfriend’s parents. “Literally everybody likes you.”

And Eric laughed nervously, said, “Come on now, that is certainly not true,” because he couldn’t charm thirteen year old bullies out of forcing him across the state, couldn’t make small-town Georgia like him for who he really was. Those seemed a lot like immovable mountains to him.

But people flocked to his vlog, kept telling him he was so charismatic, and his hockey team kept turning to him for advice with their problems, and in November of junior year he reviewed his credits, expecting to see every food class his college had to offer, but found Populism and Norms and Deviance and Inequality and Social Change, instead.

He got his B.A. Got his master’s, too, not particularly fond of academia but not too keen on leaving the shelter it provided, either. He accepted an offer to work as a consultant for a big company right after grad school, spent a year expertly tailoring trade relations and marketing techniques to partners and customers from foreign cultures. He understood people, liked people, and people, apparently, liked him. It wasn’t the job of his dreams but it was a decent start, and once the one year mark came and went he began considering PR work, maybe putting his people skills to a smaller-scale use. He was twenty-five and definitely not unhappy and his eyes were, always, firmly on the ground.

And then -- well. Then, one day, NASA called.

Jack gathers the four of them outside the flight deck to inform them that their crew has been tasked with the last Human-Islik Intergalactic Treaty info exchange of the quarter, in time for the summit meeting at the end of August. He tells them Flight Director Hall is counting on them, tells them to wear clean suits, and when Holster and Ransom begin chanting last mission, last mission, last mission, he sternly reminds them that being assigned to the Treaty IE is an honor. Still, when they all scatter and the two of them practically skip down the bridge, Eric thinks he sees the corners of Jack’s mouth twitch.

The mission takes four days, requires a series of security checks before entering each room and short transmissions to Houston for green lights at every step. Islikaru has the largest concentration of humans outside of Earth, but protocol must be followed nevertheless. Eric shakes hands, shakes paws, shakes tentacles, makes pleasant small talk and smiles brightly and lets Ransom ramble about science and Jack deal with bureaucracy. It feels at last like a familiar dance, and Eric tries not to think about how much he doesn’t ever want to stop dancing.

By dusk of the fourth day Shitty convinces Jack to wrap it up at a local eatery, the crew crowded around a small table in a pressurized O2 pod with their helmets thrown on the seats by their thighs. Eric finds himself squeezed between Jack on one side and Shitty on the other, a cool syrupy drink emitting translucent wisps of steam in his hand. Holster orders for all of them in rusty Isli that may or may not actually result in food, but they’re all just too jubilant to care.

“Alright boys,” Shitty hollers, banging his coaster on the table several times for effect. The glass containers holding all of their drinks jiggle with its force, creating a cheerful ringing sound. “A toast to this fucking beaut of a year. Being stuck in a cramped metal case floating in nothing for three hundred sixty-five days has been a great pleasure with your rockin’ bods for company. Fucking cheers!”

Ransom whoops, Shitty pretends to wipe a tear, Holster belts out the chorus of Cheers’ theme song passionately. Eric watches them, helplessly indulgent, and thinks: he’s actually making a home here.

On his other side, Jack shoves one of the food baskets towards Eric with his knuckles and says, “You should try the octo-bacon, if you haven’t.” His eyes meet Eric’s for a brief moment, make Eric’s lungs expand in his chest. He can’t remember the last time Jack spoke to him for no good reason.

Jack’s face is uniquely relaxed, his jaw convulsing as he fruitlessly tries not to laugh at something Shitty says, and Eric’s former thought continues, completely unbidden: gracious, I’m going to miss these boys so much. Their bickering and their worst habits and their dumbest moments. Holster’s booming voice, Ransom’s midnight thesis writing, Shitty’s insistence on nudity, Jack’s continual ability to confuse him.

“Holy shit, man,” Ransom says, slamming his emptied drink onto the table and staring at its last drops in awe. “What the fuck is this shit. I need another one ASAP.”

“Not it!” Holster calls, and then stretches his arm across the table, fingertip of his index finger pointed mere inches from Jack’s face. “But I just know our commander would love to buy his best crew another round. Right, Zimmermann?”

“You’re my only crew, Birkholtz,” Jack rolls his eyes, mostly good-natured. Holster’s wiggling finger and Shitty’s foot kicking at his shin beneath the table must goad him into action anyway, because he puts his helmet back on, disappears out of the pod and towards the service counter without further protest.

While Eric watches him go, Shitty slides closer in the booth and flings his arm around Eric, tugs him right into the crook of Shitty’s body.

“This is it, Bittle,” he sighs, eyes closing dramatically. “Once this tour ends, you will no longer hold the title of rookie. Finally, you will graduate to the same titles everybody else gets -- mainly bro, or fucker, or, if I’m spectacularly schwasted, yo, what’syourname. This is a monumental day for all. You might even get a nickname. Are you appropriately emotional?”

Eric is emotional about many things. He can't stop thinking about this crew and what they've come to mean to him, can't stop hating keeping secrets, can't stop dreading the moment they cross back into Earth. Eric is emotional about the possibility of seeing his mama again, and what it'll mean if he does; Eric is emotional about life in general, right now, so he says, “Sure thing, Shitty,” and shoves a ring of octo-bacon into his mouth. It seems, for lack of a better option, like the smartest response.

From above Ransom’s head, Eric spots Jack reappearing just beyond the glassy walls of the pod, carrying a tray with four containers between both hands. He then keeps watching, helpless and open-mouthed, as another astronaut rises from a nearby booth and slams into Jack shoulder-first, tipping the entire tray sideways and nearly knocking its contents over and to the floor.

“Oh shit, sorry mate!” the man exclaims, immediately reaching out to catch Jack’s hands and help stable the tray. His Australian accent is thick, the ASA pin decorating the shoulder that knocked into Jack glinting under artificial lights. The two of them grab the tray with three hands, containers sliding back into place still intact, before the man’s eyes flick up and catch on Jack’s face. He then jerks back, his eyes widening and his hands yanked away from Jack like he’s afraid to catch on fire. “Fuck, Zimmermann! I didn’t see it was you! Fuck my life, uh -- here, I’ll pay for the drinks --”

Eric watches, crestfallen, as Jack’s previously relaxed expression gradually darkens back into his usual scowl, lips disappearing between his teeth. “It’s fine, don’t --”

The other astronaut shakes his head vehemently, shoving his gloved hand into his utility pocket and fishing out some local coins that he then throws onto the tray haphazardly.

“Fuck no, mate, I’m not taking risks with you,” he hurries backwards, flat palms raised up, like he’s under some kind of threat Eric can’t read in Jack’s distressed body language. “For real, it was an accident, don’t get your dad to kick me off the program, yeah?”

The man backs off, scurrying back to his pod and to his whispering crewmates. Jack remains standing, shoulders rigid and tray held in clenched white knuckles, vacant stare fixed on the floor. Eric glances away from Jack for the first time since he saw him approach and notices that his whole table is silent and tense. He catches Shitty’s furrowed eyebrows and Ransom’s worried look, and becomes slowly conscious of the fact that unlike him, everybody else already know what just went on in front of them.

Jack’s mood seems to fracture, then. He steps through the pod’s sliding sealing and sets the tray down on the table too forcibly, glass containers knocking together. He doesn’t sit back down. Shitty parts his mouth to say something, but Jack latches his helmet closed before he can, muttering, “I’m done for tonight. I’ll see you guys back on the ship.”

His face is almost blank, valiantly trying for imperviousness, but Eric has never seen him look so decidedly miserable before. Instinctively, he reaches out to grab Jack’s wrist; he doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know what just happened, but he does know that Jack shouldn’t leave like that. He manages to stammer out, “...Jack --” before Jack tears his hand away from Eric’s grip with the same excessive aggression that rattled the drinks, and says curtly, “Excuse me.”

Eric stares at his back stalking off until he's entirely out of view, feels unjustly hurt and primarily very confused.

Jack Zimmermann is --

Jack Zimmermann is one of NASA’s Arctic Project’s best pilots and ship commanders, Eric learned his first year in the program. He’s exceptionally committed to his job, loyal to his crew, unwaveringly focused on the mission. He’s direct, sometimes brutally so. He’s good at following orders, makes tough decisions under pressure, and never takes the opportunity to rub elbows with the higher ups. He just loves what he does, and does it notably well.

The name and the legend is a lot to live up to, but when Eric met Jack he realized that the man is exactly as he’s advertised. Jack, in the role of Jack Zimmermann, is straightforwardly that: an amazing astronaut, an amazing ship commander, an amazing pilot.

It’s unfortunate, then, that Jack in the role of a human being is sometimes an enormous asshole.

The ship’s lights are all off when the boys straggle themselves back on board later in the evening, their boots dragging sluggishly against gravity. When Jack left, the celebratory mood followed his footsteps out the door; no one seemed the least bit inclined to talk about it, so Eric didn’t ask. Though the four of them did their best to recover, cracking halfhearted jokes and staying for another couple of rounds, even Shitty’s mustache seems to droop lower than normal by the time they finally find their way back to the ship.

Shitty passes airlock and walks straight towards the pilots’ quarters without saying a thing, so Eric wordlessly follows Holster and Ransom into their own quarters, brow still creased with puzzlement. He watches as Holster starts stripping by the door and Ransom sits down on the bottom bunk to take off his gear, and waits, and waits, until the silence is just too strange to handle.

“Alright, can anyone tell me what in the deep-fried hell was that?”

Holster glowers, rips off his support strap with gusto. He doesn’t answer, so Eric turns his frown at Ransom, who sighs as he removes the tough overshoe off his boots. “Ignore him, Bittle. Jack just gets real bitchy when people mention his dad. Which happens pretty often because, you now, his dad.”

“His dad…?” Eric prompts, desperate, because it seems like he should know something that he doesn’t. It’s not in the least a foreign feeling these days, when concerning space and science and always, always Jack.

Ransom looks up at him, one boot dangling from his left hand. “Yeah, you know, his dad. It’s a lot of pressure, living up to that. It’s probably most of why Jack is how Jack is.”

Eric doesn’t believe daddy issues are any excuse to be so surly, and he thinks, rather bitterly, that he would know something about the matter. But he pushes, still, because it’s always one step forward and three steps back with Jack, and any scrap of information making his commander seem a little more human could go a long way right now. Or even not human; Lord knows Eric can figure out nonhums just fine. “What does he have to live up to?”

Holster pauses peeling off the suit’s hard upper torso to squint incredulously at Eric. The lower torso assembly of the suit pools around his thighs. “You don’t know who Mad Bob is?”

“Uh,” Eric deflates, taking a tentative step back, the crown of his head hitting the frame of the top bunk. The tone of conversation begins to sound a lot like the time he disclosed that he doesn’t really know the periodic table or has, at any point of time, known it at all. “No. I don’t.”

Ransom throws his other boot to the side and leans forward, elbows resting on his knees and face contorting into an expression that closely mirrors Holster’s; surprised, scandalized, disbelieving. “He’s like -- Mad Bob. He was the first commander in the original Avalanche Project. He was the first pilot to leave the Solar System and come back alive?”

“They say he was the first to meet extraterrestrial life!” Holster gestures grandly with his hand, yanking off the EV glove to have free use of the other hand as well.

“That’s actually not true,” Ransom clarifies, “No nonhum races were recorded until almost a decade later --”

“Not the point, dude,” Holster waves him off. “The point is, Mad Bob is a legend. His ship nearly burned on the way back to Earth and he totally saved everyone on board. Made the first round trip, you know? He’s a big fucking deal. Can’t believe you’ve never heard of him.”

Eric blanches, digs his nails into his skin to hold his instinctual reaction at bay. Eric spent the first twenty-five years of his life with his feet planted firmly on the ground, his eyes never straying upwards. Later, Eric spent every moment of his time at Houston scrambling to prove his worth in an environment so wholly alien to him that the irony in the metaphor was no longer funny. Eric wouldn’t be able to tell Neil Armstrong from Adam, just like Eric can never really remember the difference between Newton’s and Einstein's theories, doesn't know the primary structure of proteins even now. Eric doesn’t belong here, and he’s quickly running out of time to pretend like he does.

“Oh,” he says finally, weakly. Holster and Ransom haven’t looked away from him yet, so he averts his eyes, turns to face his bunk. “Must’ve just missed it somehow.”

He can almost hear Holster and Ransom hem and haw for a few long, silent moments, before the sound of nylon rustling resumes. Eric takes a deep breath, and does his very best not to regret ever asking. It’s made worse by the fact that this hasn't really helped him understand Jack any better than before.

So Jack had spent most of Eric’s first few months on the ship treating Eric like an inconvenience. That was okay -- it hadn’t been the first time he’d been perceived like that, and it wouldn’t be the last. He hadn’t been a fresh-faced teenager from the South in a long while; he’d been older, tougher. He’d been places and had met people, nicer people and smarter people and even meaner people than Jack Zimmermann. He hadn’t really needed a pat on the shoulder or an encouraging smile, just the opportunity to do his job, and do it well.

The real problem was that Eric had always been good at his job because he understood people. And Eric, despite his best begrudging efforts, cannot make sense of Jack.

Jack, who clearly had not understood Eric’s job at all until, suddenly and out of nowhere, there was Evor. Jack who, after Evor, told Eric good work and sounded like maybe he even meant it. Jack who, after Evor, was sat by Eric when Lardo radioed to tell them that Jack’s report had made the deputy administrator call to congratulate Eric specifically.

Jack who, also after Evor, stopped meeting Eric’s eyes unless absolutely necessary. Jack, who Eric sometimes caught staring from the corner of his eye, looking lost in thoughts. Jack, who roughhoused with Shitty in the flight deck, and arranged Holster a private DSN connection for his mom’s birthday, and listened to Charlie Rich on late night piloting shifts -- but whose glimpses of personality disappeared the moment Eric tried to study them for too long.

Missions transformed into something different in the aftermath of Evor. A month after the crew’s return to action they were sent to do testing on the magnetic field of Pladora, and Jack put Eric in charge of communication with the local scientists without preambles. Eric choked, floundered, but grabbed the opportunity with both hands; he still couldn’t shake the weight of Jack’s gaze on his shoulders whenever he spoke with the Pladoran team.

Later, Jack pulled him aside and asked, “Are you capable of confidently explaining to me the exact kind of testing we’re doing here?”, stared at Eric until he was fidgeting uncomfortably in place. “It’s important that you can do that,” he added, like Eric didn’t already know, like Eric didn’t think about it every night before he fell asleep, like he needed Jack’s eyes on him for that, making the nape of his neck burn and his palms tingle with sweat. But Jack frowned at him, then, took a step back, like he didn’t understand why Eric was flushed with embarrassment. It almost seemed for a moment like he wasn’t actively gunning for humiliation.

And then it happened again. Two weeks after that they were helping ESA fix a satellite on a German space station, and Jack left Eric to discuss mission parameters unattended, but also ordered him to watch Shitty install a new GPS chip for three hours. During the strategy session for a recon mission in the Austra System, Jack insisted on hearing Eric’s opinion, but also accosted him after it to demand that Eric read about the complication with the wavelength disturbance. In a charged encounter with destitute merchants from a dead galaxy, Jack remained two steps behind Eric’s right shoulder and let him conciliate them, but when Eric later babbled about the civil turmoil caused by the demise of the galaxy, Jack asserted that he should understand the astrophysical process leading to such death.

So Eric generously thought: maybe Jack was trying, poorly. But three months after Evor the two of them returned to the ship frazzled and peeved, had spent most of the day wrangling with diplomats on Uzeru, and Eric scrubbed a hand over his face, resolved to try one more time. He offered Jack a friendly, tired smile, and said, “Wanna share bad coffee in the kitchen to drown our sorrows?”, but Jack only shook his head once, sharply, before immediately walking away.

The inability to make any sense of it consumes Eric's thoughts for much longer than he's comfortable with. Jack pushes and then pulls, hovers over Eric professionally but disappears the moment it’s interpersonal. A week before they're off for leave Eric looks up from his plate to see Jack taking his dinner into the flight deck, ignoring Shitty’s offer to join him, and thinks that maybe he can never peek past Jack's mask because Jack makes sure to turn away whenever it comes off. He thinks that maybe this is what loneliness looks like, thinks that he should still know better than to care, thinks for the first time that maybe Jack’s silent treatment is nothing more than not knowing what to say to Eric after Evor. Thinks that maybe Jack’s inept solution to not knowing what to say is to just say nothing at all.

The impact crater chipping Vylos’ surface is visible from two-hundred thousand miles out. It’s the nearest planet to the jumping point back to Earth, and its crater serves as a parking lot for all ships on their way to or from there. Its chaotic layout strongly reminds Eric of the QuikTrip station just north of Atlanta, but he bites his tongue and keeps that to himself. Jack and Shitty have probably never seen a QuikTrip, anyway.

Jack grumbles about finding a parking space on the night before leave, body curved over the control wheel and eyes squinted at the windowpane. Shitty leaves him to it, drapes his legs sideways on his armrest to tell Eric about the long claws of capitalism stretching into the cosmos, and how this has resulted in Vylosian beer being the best there is this side of the Milky Way, “Even though it’s like, totally not a real beer, dude, but -- marketing ploy!”, and how its atmosphere was chemically engineered, “To be breathable for all us Earthly suckers passing by ‘cause of the jump point. Filthy fucking marketing plot, I tell ya -- and the beer costs like my goddamn kidney.”

“Your goddamn kidney’s not worth much with the amount of Vylosian beer you regularly consume,” Jack interjects, lowering the ship into a vacant spot skillfully. Vylos’ terrain, reflected at Eric from the three surrounding windows in the flight deck, is grainy and blue.

The Vylosian bar Shitty buoyantly pushes them into is decorated in mismatched memorabilia, posters of Uma Thurman and Justin Bieber and a life-size stormtrooper suit personally signed by George Lucas looming by the wall. The AI pouring the drinks is a hologram in the shape of a Western saloon bartender, the beer is thick and neon green. Eric’s been outside the Kármán line for nearly a year and feels caught by surprise, still, almost daily; but tonight he gets to wear denim shorts instead of nylon spacesuits, gets to clink his glass against Ransom’s, gets to pretend that tomorrow isn’t possibly the end of it all. It has to be enough, he thinks, and takes a determined drink.

Their group starts out leaning against the wooden countertop, skin sticking to its surface. Later, Holster and Ransom chat their way into the table of two local girls, and Jack disappears from view. Eventually, their group winds up scattered across different corners of the bar, red-faced and loose. Eric catches himself repeatedly looking up from the bottom of his glass to the open door, at the pale glint of the sky just outside it, and after a thorough sweep around he takes his drink, gets up, and starts walking.

The bar overlooks the vast expanses of the crater sprawling beneath it, and Eric finds himself sitting outside at the edge of the cliff, thighs bare over the rough azure dirt and beer glass tilting in his hand. Vylos’ three moons are out of sync, rising and peaking and setting in a simultaneous cycle, and Eric is busy watching them when he hears heavy footsteps coming up behind him.

He’s surprised to find Jack standing there, suspended in motion with his hands deep in his pockets and his hair windswept, figure backlit by the lights of the bar twinkling behind him. He seems just as startled to see Eric; his expression wavers out of its usual stoic façade to betray some semblance of emoting.

“Oh, Bittle, I -- I thought you’re inside with the boys,” Jack blinks, a hint of a frown wrinkling his forehead.

“No,” Eric blinks in turn, unsettled by this strange creature wearing the face of his commander. He looks so different in jeans and an AsCans training program t-shirt, out of the bulky spacesuits they spend most days in. “Uh -- no. I’m not.”

“Right.” Jack nods stiffly, glances at the ground and then at a spot somewhere over Eric’s shoulder. His body language is guarded, and he looks misplaced, painfully awkward. They still haven’t exchanged more than two or three sentences in private since Evor and Eric, typically the chatterbox, wouldn’t even know where to begin. “Well, uh, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I’ll go.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Eric says, before he can think too carefully about why the heck he’d say such a thing. Before he can recall the snapshot memory of Jack turning to eat dinner in the flight deck, alone. “I mean. I’m just sitting here. Drinking alien beer,” he raises his glass, the bright green liquid sloshing around, leaving traces of neon on its rim. The ridiculousness of the situation may be slightly lost on Jack, but not on him. Space still is, and probably always will be, kind of weird.

“Right,” Jack repeats, the line of his back tightening and his eyes narrowing at Eric. “Be careful with that. Don’t want you to throw up during descent tomorrow.”

Dear Lord. One step forward and three steps back. “Yes, Commander,” Eric sighs, swallowing the chagrin out of his voice. His shoulders sag as his body curls towards the view, away from Jack. God forbid Jack Zimmermann think about anything other than the mission for a single flippin' moment. Eric should know better than to be disappointed, but the sour churn of his stomach is unmistakable. Eric should, but doesn’t.

The footsteps behind him pick up again, and he expects to hear Jack walking farther and farther away. Instead, he’s shocked into silence by Jack sliding into his peripheral view, sitting down beside him on the cliff. His shoulders are rigid, his mouth pressed thin. His expression looks like he’s as bewildered as Eric by his own actions.

“Are you excited to go back?” Jack asks after a long, uncomfortable minute, during which they both sit mutely and watch the pits of Vylos before them. Its second moon has finished a full rotation and is now shining down in soft lilac beams. Jack’s voice is tense, flat; this boy, Eric thinks almost pityingly, really is terrible at small talk.

He’s been asked this question a dozen times that month, but mustering his practiced fake enthusiasm now seems hard. Maybe it’s the alien alcohol; maybe it’s that Jack could regress into not speaking to him again at any moment. “I guess so. Home sweet home, ‘m I right?”

Jack shrugs one shoulder, a short and angular movement. “It doesn't feel like going home to me,” he says, honest and plain. “I spend most of my time out here. It’s more like -- a summer vacation. Some people go to the Caribbean and we go visit Earth.”

Eric nods, absently, unsure of how to respond. He brings his glass to his lips and takes a long swig of it, tastes green all the way to the back of his throat. It’s almost impossible to imagine that in twenty-four hours he could be drinking locally-produced white wine in the Washington Corridor. Earth feels so darn far away.

“What’ll you do on your vacation, then?” Eric asks after another long stretch of silence, mostly out of politeness that his mother persistently lectured into him over years.

Jack’s attention is fixed on the moons, his profile sculpted by the sharp lines of his nose and cheekbones and chin. His eyes are so pale under the lilac moon -- big, slanted, annoyingly beautiful. He remains quiet for a moment, leans his weight on his palms and considers Eric’s question. His gaze is still flickering over the view when he says, finally, “I usually go see my parents. Read. Buy groceries.”

Eric snorts inelegantly. If he didn’t know any better, didn’t know Jack any better, that could almost be mistaken for a joke. “Buy groceries?”

“Yes,” Jack says, perfectly serious. His eyes flit over to meet Eric’s, and Eric holds them for only a moment before quickly looking away. His cheeks grow inexplicably warm. “I don’t really miss anything when I’m up here -- I mean, not really -- but I guess sometimes it’s nice to remember people. Stupid human stuff, eh? Supermarkets. Banks. I always think I'd catch a movie in the theatre but somehow I never do.”

He appears to be uncomfortable with his admission, face closing off once the words are out of his mouth. The sharp lines of his features twist back into a familiar scowl, but Eric watches them, him, thoroughly transfixed. The authentic snippet of personality cannot disappear under the reapplied mask this time; Jack has put something truthful on the table, a hint of something charmingly sentimental. A mundane humanity space can't recreate, newspapers and laundromats and coffee stands and taxes. Grocery shopping. Eric doesn’t know if the fast, erratic beating in his chest is at the sweet tinge of it, or the mere thought of Jack paying attention to such things.

“You should,” Eric finally finds his words somewhere in his strangled windpipe, slowly facing forward. Jack, and his continual ability to confuse. He can see Jack from the corner of his eye, turning his head to subtly raise both eyebrows at Eric. “Go to the movies. You should do it this time.”

“Yeah. Maybe I will,” Jack says after a long pause. “I'll tell you how it went when we’re back here.”

“If I come back,” Eric sighs before he can catch himself, and then freezes, fingers clenching around his glass. Dang it. Dang it all to hell.

“What?” Jack asks, confused, and when Eric refuses to meet his eyes, shoulders squaring and chin dropping to his chest, Jack’s voice sharpens and he repeats, “What? What do you mean? Bittle. What do you mean.”

Eric exhales unsteadily, rubbing his forehead with the back of his free hand. He thought he'd have more time. He thought -- like he always does, and is always wrong -- that he’d successfully outrun his problems by denying their existence. He could try shoving those four incriminating words back into his mouth, but Eric can feel Jack’s intense attention focused on the side of his face. Once Jack stepped back into the professional boots of Commander Zimmermann, no denial will make him let this go.

“I’m spending all of my leave in Texas. I gotta pass evaluation for the clearance to come back here with y’all. These past six months were my test run -- I’ve never passed the written exam.” Eric drags his shoe through the sandy ground, watches as the grooves he makes are swept away. “Y’all know I’m no good at the sciency stuff, Jack, alright. I don't need to hear it from you as well. If I don't get an adequate score I'm off the program for good.”

Eric chews the inside of his cheek and chances a side glance. Jack looks outraged, his thick brows drawn down and his entire face devoid of color. Eric’s immediate reflex is to flinch away, but Jack speaks before he can make a move. “What subjects?”

“What?” Eric asks, thrown completely off-balance. He was expecting a thundering reprimand at worst, an indifferent dismissal at best. He doesn’t know what the quiet, heated response he's gotten even is.

"What subjects are they testing you on?”

Eric hesitates, body still braced for the blow that isn't coming. “Uh. All of the introductory subjects. Basic physics, geobiology... mostly modern astronomy. But I swear --”

“Alright,” Jack cuts him off with a single sharp nod, his chin sticking out slightly, like Eric has somehow pushed him to make up his mind. His expression, typically impassive, is now staggeringly transparent. “I’ll help you study for the written exam.”

“What?" Eric blinks several times, glances down to see if he's had more to drink than he thought, but the glass is still half-full and Jack's figure is still corporeal by his side, intense expression still in place. He doesn't fade away like the hallucination Eric is so sure he must be. "Jack -- what --?”

Jack doesn't seem to pick up on the astonishment that has Eric stumbling over his words. “We’ve got two and a half weeks, right? You need entry level stuff to pass that exam. If we study hard, you can do it.”

Eric thinks he might be gaping, his mouth hanging open and growing dry in the arid air, but he apparently isn't capable of collecting his jaw off of Vylos’ ground. “But… what… but you’ll be in Canada…?”

“I’ll stay in Huston,” Jack looks determined. “Bittle, we're a team. You should’ve told us before and we would’ve helped you. You’re a strong crew member, you’re smart, you’ve got an edge that none of us has got. If that’s the only thing holding you back we’re going to get you over it. Study clinic, day and night.” He pauses, the self-assurances faltering for only a moment, and the lines of his mouth soften somewhat. “Just trust me, okay?”

Eric is absolutely floored. The only foolish thing that manages to leave his mouth is, “What about going to the movies?”

Jack almost smiles. Eric has spied that expression on rare occasions before, but never directed at him, and never from up close. It does something to Jack's face that Eric can't put in words. “I’ll catch one on the next leave. Which you’ll be taking as well, ‘cause you’re not leaving the program. We've got each other's backs, Bittle.”

Under the moonlight, purple shadows carving his face from marble and a mellow half-smile twisting the corners of his mouth upwards, Eric could almost let himself admit how handsome Jack is. Jack rubs the dirt off of one palm and slowly curls his fingers, holds them up in a silent offer. Eric can see the thin veins beneath the surface of his skin. He looks at the hand, looks up at Jack, and lets a tentative smile blossom on his face. He brings his clenched hand up to meet Jack’s, and bumps his fist.

#zimbits #omgcp #omgcheckplease #zimbits fic #it is the space fic! they are in space!#i cleaned up the first chapter if anyone wants to reread or catch up #check please!#jack x bitty #pavfics #okay great this is a series now. i'm SORRY

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ladyfl4me · 4 years ago

Note

Hi please yell about boyd and stern in TCOS and TMWCIFTC :D!

Anon, THANK YOU for enabling me, you have my fucking life in your hands

I’ll preface all of this by saying that everything in this post is related to my long-form Amnesty works, The Moth who Came In from the Cold and The Children of Sylvain. If you haven’t read those, then you’ll be pretty damn confused, so I guess now is as good of a time to plug them - and the series - as any. A heads up: I started it back in 2018, and everything in TCOS is just… very VERY loosely associated with Amnesty canon at this point. Same root premise, same characters, but back in 2018 even I couldn’t predict where arcs 4 and 5 ended up going. TMWCIFTC was written as the logical progression, in my head, of an alternate arc 4, and everything that happened in TCOS is based off of that progression. It’s got almost no connection to the actual canon at this point. I’ll be recapping some of the more important plot points for context, though.

Here’s hoping the read-more works. This was 7 pages long in the google doc I prepared this in, so I apologize in advance to everyone on my dash if this got fucked up. Spoilers for TMWCIFTC ahead, as well as general vague spoilers for Amnesty.

So everything’s coming up roses. Fantastic. Let’s start with the biggest thing: how the characters of Agent Stern and Boyd Mosche have changed from canon to this AU.

Boyd’s Changes:

We’ll start with Boyd, because this motherfucker is UNRECOGNIZABLE from canon. On god, that is all Griffin’s fault. Pretty much all of Boyd’s character was concentrated in arc 4 of Amnesty, and honestly? He was a fantastic character there. Loved him as a counterpart to Ned. He gave off an air of “the ends justify the means” in almost everything he did - especially how he was willing to do anything, including blackmail Ned to hell and back, to get back to England - which I’ve grafted into my version of him. The angst-loving part of my brain seized on the tragic possibilities of his relationship with Ned and was bumping “No Children” by the Mountain Goats every time they interacted. Great stuff, interesting complexity, was genuinely surprised when he kicked it.

All that happened after I introduced him as a character in TMWCIFTC. My version of him retains the smooth-talking Britishness of him, with the aforementioned “ends justify the means” logic for everything; I’d probably sort him as a chaotic neutral, with basically all of his points in wisdom, charisma and strength with very few in intelligence. I tried to work with that for the start. We knew nothing about Boyd at the time I was writing TMWCIFTC, so my brain wanted to fill in that blank for jokes and giggles and haha funny’s and was like, “Yo what if Boyd was a Sylph this entire time? Wouldn’t that be fucking hilarious?”

And that’s what I did. What happened to make this version of Boyd was a bit of a random “perfect storm” of influences and choices, which really only got sharpened because of my one-shot The Devil Went Down To Georgia. That one’s the main source of all Boyd lore, even though I barely reference it these days because he’s gone so far off the rails it’s a miracle I can keep him straight.

I’ve talked about The Devil Went Down To Georgia a lot in relation to Boyd on here. TL;DR, I decided to make him two things: a violinist and a Sylph/cryptid, specifically the Jersey Devil. Yes, he is still British. I chalk it up lore-wise to a few things: the original Jersey Devil is more of a distant relative, Boyd crossed over from Sylvain and ended up in Britain sometime after that, and just willingly chose to keep up the British persona Bastard. I don’t think about it too much. He’s been a criminal from the very beginning; he’d been in prison on Sylvain, went through some shit there that made him steal a crystal and book it, and he continued to do crime on Earth to survive.

The violin thing is mostly me desperately wanting a character to have that background, because I played for seven goddamn years and want to put that knowledge and catharsis somewhere. Boyd probably either picked up a Sylvan instrument that was similar, or learned it in the early 20th century when he came to Earth, and just held onto it. He held onto the skills and got good - good enough that he could have gone professional, and tried in 2007, but that didn’t go super well, as anyone who’s read TMWCIFTC can attest.

In terms of the type of cryptid he is, I’ve made the Jersey Devils a subspecies on Sylvain that takes cervids (deer, moose, etc.) or bovines (goats, antelopes, cows, etc.), as well as canines/felines of any shape and size, puts them into a gashapon machine with pterodactyl-style wings, awful teeth, and a snake’s tail, and calls it a day. You can get a tiny Jersey Devil that’s a combo of a tiny cat and a dik-dik; you can get a jacked nine-foot-tall terrifying amalgam of a lion and a moose, with a fucked-up mouth of multiple rows of teeth and huge claws.

That last one is Boyd. Don’t call me a monsterfucker for this, I have no defense.

So where does that leave him in relation to the Lodge? Back in 2018, before I started developing the lore that factors into TCOS about Sylph communities outside the Lodge (namely the Manhattan Sylphs that Leo worked with when he was a Chosen One), I figured that it’d be funny if every single cryptid kinda just… knew each other, or hung out near the Lodge. As you know if you’ve read TMWCIFTC, he got into some trouble in 1967, which Barclay, Indrid and Mama “bailed him out of.”

Once they found out he was a fellow Sylvan, though, it became less about “report this guy to the authorities” and more about “we have to make sure we keep an eye on this guy so he doesn’t get himself, or other Sylphs, in trouble” thing. He basically became Mama’s mostly-socialized half-feral cat, slinking through the halls of Amnesty Lodge, eating random food, falling asleep wherever, sitting in rooms where people are doing interesting things and just watching them. And everyone... kind of likes him. Sure, he doesn’t have a sleep schedule, and they have to get soundproof panels installed in his room at the Lodge because he’ll stress-practice violin at 3 in the morning, and he keeps shoplifting stuff from local stores to give to people like a cat bringing back dead mice. But he’s a good man. And he’s getting better every day.

Then he got got by the Ashminder in ‘98. He bolted, completely forgot everything about the Lodge but had the address of a former Lodge resident on his body after his memory was wiped, found a still-alive but memory-wiped fellow Lodge dweller, and fled to that address. Boyd lived there for years, trying to clean up his act and try to anchor himself a bit. Then in 2007, something on his path went wrong, and the stress break he went through after that made him run from that place. That’s when he met Ned, and they had a few years together before Boyd ended up in jail.

Then, once they killed the Ashminder and the memories it had eaten came back, Voidfish-style, Boyd remembered everything: the people who’d taken care of him, the friends he’d made, the love he’d found, the time and effort he’d put into getting better, the rewards he’d reaped because of it. He remembered fighting monsters and defending them. He got hit with it all at once, and missed them. His parole date was coming up; he could bide his time until he was released, and run down there.

But then, at the start of TCOS, Something Happens that makes all Sylvan disguises and spells shit the fucking bed; his disguise spell, which has been hiding a nine foot-tall jacked demon out of hell, flickers, and the invisibility spell that had been put on his disguise item to hide it failed. Boyd knew he was fucked if the jail folks found out he was a Sylph, so he decided to fucking Kool-aid Man out of there, becoming a wanted man in the entire state of West Virginia and getting a bit roughed up in the process.

But hey. Whatever it takes to get home, right?

Stern’s Changes:

Stern’s changed too, though, and here’s how. It was relatively simple to tweak him, because so much of him was a blank slate to begin with. First: that name. Garfield Kent Stern is his full name: Garfield for the cat/Deals Warlock, Kent after Kent Mansley, the irritating dipshit FBI agent antagonist from the classic animated movie The Iron Giant. Poor bastard. He started as a walking meme who I was going to kill off; I came up with that name long before we got his real name in canon, and didn’t want to retcon it out.

I’m a sucker for secret connections and familial ties, too, and back in 2018 the headcanon gashapon gave me “what if Stern was a cousin of Duck’s, but there was family drama that made their parts of the family split when they were kids, so now 30 years later they don’t remember each other?”

And that’s exactly what I did. Gary is Duck’s first cousin on Duck’s mom’s side; their mothers are sisters. Gary’s uncle Arnie was a Secret Service agent who tangled with an Indrid trying to stop the Kennedy Assassination once, and he keeps telling that story at Christmas, much to everyone’s chagrin. Gary remembered those stories, and even received Indrid’s old disguise glasses - knocked off his face during his uncle Arnie’s chase - and carried them with him for a long time.

He didn’t start off as a baby cop, though; he was more interested in hitting the books, finding out the logic and doing the research to figure things out. I have him become a history major, getting a PhD with a few bits and bobs here and there that I haven’t worked out yet. Whatever the case, he spent a LONG time in academia, from undergrad starting in 1996 to graduation in about 2005.

Things weren’t as peachy as he thought they’d be, though. Gary wrote and published his thesis, like a good little PhD candidate, but someone was watching him. In his thesis, he’d been trying to cobble together various cryptid-related legends across the word and making connections between them, among other things. He’d managed to link up and explain something that Unexplained Phenomena had been trying to figure out themselves. They immediately intercepted his thesis, kept it from being disseminated anywhere else, erased all copies of it after graduation, and reached out to Gary independently to bring him on.

Make no mistake: he went willingly. Despite the whole thesis coverup, Agent Gary Stern wasn’t coerced into being a government stooge, and he wasn’t blackmailed - he was given an offer to work with the cryptid cops, and he enthusiastically took it. Government benefits were decent, he’d heard; post-grad options were looking slim, especially going into the recession. In his mind, there was a bit of allure to it all, too. A secret government organization looking into suspicious and possibly supernatural things all over the nation? Fantastic. More opportunities to do research. He was in. Gary accepted their offer and started basic FBI training in 2007 - the same year Boyd had that mental break and went AWOL, returning to his life of crime and meeting Ned.

Biggest mistake he’d ever made. But then again, if he didn’t take them up on that, he wouldn’t be here, would he?

So he joins UP, goes up the ranks. They had him researching and charting the Bigfoot case for a while, and he was the only one who was willing to work on it at all because… well, Bigfoot sightings weren’t as sophisticated as some of the other projects that were out there for UP. (See: Area 51. We don’t talk about Area 51. Nobody talks about Area 51. Definitely nothing shady and unethical going on in there, no experiments on anyone or anything, no sir.)

Gary’s diligent, though, and doesn’t like to back down from a challenge. That’s all hunting Bigfoot was: a challenge. No personal stake, no empathy. It was a job to get done, even though an entire person’s life was at stake.

And he got so caught up in this challenge that, when he went to Kepler, he EASILY got attacked by the Ashminder and destroyed within an inch of his life. He got the very memory of his job and intent in Kepler torn out of his head; once the Ashminder died, and those memories came back, they didn’t feel like his anymore, or like they’d been part of his life plan to begin with. Overcome with confusion and guilt, he decided to clean up his act and try to work against the FBI, with Mama’s blessing.

His goal? Quit the FBI, get them off the Lodge’s back, and then see what happens next. Maybe he’d go back to academia, or teach, or something - just get as far away from the FBI as possible, as far away as he can be from hurting people. But he’s got to bide his time, because if he bolts now, they’re going to get suspicious and put the Lodge in even more danger. And that’s where he is now.

So why have they changed?

Simple answer? I don’t want to rewrite them to fit with canon. I just don’t. I don’t want to make Boyd human; I don’t want to change Gary’s name to Joseph and make him a Bigfoot groupie. I don’t want to rewrite hundreds of thousands of words of work to fit last-minute decisions made in the end times of Amnesty’s canon. My fic has diverged so much from canon that the canon versions of the characters don’t belong here anymore. Besides, Stern was such a background character in arcs 3 and 4 that he barely mattered, making his reappearance in arc 5 a bit of a clumsy follow-through, and Boyd was a one-act wonder. A little expansion couldn’t hurt. Making Gary something other than a direct antagonist made the narrative load a little easier, too, at least on my end. I hate giving a cop screen time, but it’s easier to justify his existence by rewriting his backstory and making him slog through the hell of a redemption arc. He’s had that coming.

This leads us to TCOS, though, where the arcs of our player characters turn a bit more towards the plot, as opposed to the emotional fulfillment they got in TMWCIFTC. Characters like Gary, Mama, Boyd, and Alexandra take center stage for emotional and backstory development, while the original player characters take a temporary backseat. Alexandra’s a key linchpin of the story as a whole, both emotionally and narratively; Mama gets lore expansions and has personal things to settle; and Gary and Boyd are… here. So:

How do these two work with each other in TCOS?

It’s great. It’s fantastic. These two are my favorite to write in TCOS because their conflict is just so fucking FUN. On the one hand, you have an almost-ex-FBI agent who’s been taken in by the Lodge, is related to a Pine Guard member, is trying to keep his coworkers off the Lodge’s back as sneakily as possible without drawing suspicion, and is desperate not to screw up this second chance he doesn’t think he deserves. On the other hand, you have an ex-con who got a second chance from the Lodge, sees them as his last best option to be safe as long as nobody reports them, and wants to keep them safe out of a sense of familial obligation he’s reluctant to admit to, even to himself.

That’s two people with questionable morals, with a semi-familial attachment to a place that gave them second chances, each seeing the actions of the other as a threat to their - and everyone else’s - safety. Claws come out almost immediately.

At the start, Boyd and Gary go together like apple juice and toothpaste. Boyd sees a narc who’s threatening the one safe place he has left; Gary sees an impulsive, selfish threat, a domino that - if it falls - threatens, you guessed it, the one safe place he (and other people, sure) has left. Boyd breaking out of jail means the entire state of West Virginia, and probably the whole East Coast, is on high alert looking for him, and if that attention comes anywhere near the Lodge? They’re fucked.

Neither of them believe that the other is capable of change or anything but selfish, malicious harm. Boyd has more of an argument than Gary because Gary is still actively reporting things to the FBI, but in Gary’s defense, the moment that he stops reporting anything to them, they’re going to suspect things and might end up sending more people to the Lodge. The Pine Guard can’t afford that, so Gary has to play by the rules until he’s in a position where he can quit. I’ll pull a specific argument they have from TCOS that I feel really exemplifies this:

"I don't want you to get caught."

Boyd scoffed. "Something tells me you're not worried about me."

"I'm not."

"Well, thanks."

"I'm worried," Gary went on, "about someone seeing you, and connecting you to the Lodge. You just used the hot springs as your personal landing strip, in broad daylight. We're on the upper half of the mountain. And I don't know how big your Sylvan form is, but -"

Boyd grinned. It looked more like a snarl. "Oh, plenty big enough," he said.

Gary ignored that. "Big enough for someone to see you from down the mountain?" he challenged. Boyd's lip curled, and he looked away. "Yeah, that's what I thought. I'm just thinking ahead. What if someone came beating down our door looking for you? What if it was a cryptid hunter? What if it was the cops?”

"Yes, yes, fine, alright," Boyd snapped. He threw his hands up. His eyes were hard and cold. "It'd put us in danger. I get it. But you're still here. I think the damage is already done."

A knot of cold rage formed in Gary's stomach. "I'm trying to keep this place safe, Mr. Mosche," he spat. "I've got a responsibility to keep."

Boyd scoffed. "Oh, you have a responsibility? To Amnesty Lodge? That's fucking rich."

"You've got one, too! It’s about time you started keeping it!"

They’re both very, very set in their ways and their ideologies, and they take a long time to get to middle ground.

One of my friends described it as middle child syndrome in overdrive. Gary thinks Boyd’s the Lodge golden child, come to replace him in the Lodge inner circle. Boyd thinks Gary’s the Lodge’s new redemption-arc fixer-upper, come to replace him. And both of them feel thrown off by that, because they both thought that the Lodge was accepting them completely into the inner circle. It’s unfamiliar, it’s confusing, and when the Lodge as a whole regards them both with suspicion/unease (Gary) and polite detachment due to the passage of time (Boyd), it makes them both feel on the outside.

And when you’re in the same shitty canoe, you’ve gotta row it or sink. So that’s exactly what they do.

Ultimately, they get faced down with bigger and worse foes that snap them out of their spat, because their common interest is “keeping the Lodge safe” and uniting will help them get there. When they do start to have each other’s backs, though, that’s when they reluctantly start to get to know each other. Gary feels like something’s off about Boyd and eventually suspects - thanks to some comments from Haynes and some digging of his own - that Boyd had something to do with the fire that burned down Aubrey’s house, but it remains to be seen what he’ll do with that information. (The Gary of November 2018 would have turned Boyd in to the FBI. The Gary of almost six months later, though… a different story. It’ll be interesting.)

The kicker is, they’re both really similar, at the heart of it. Both of them were the Lodge’s fix-em-up pet projects, brought into the fold in an emergency and protected/cared for as long as they swore to clean up their act. They see each other and feel a bit out-of-place, though - something contributed to by the way the Lodge treats them.

Gary’s still held at a distance by many, despite being Duck’s cousin and a mostly-valuable member of the team, because the stench of the FBI is still on him - how he dresses, how he walks and talks, how he acts. And Boyd has just swanned back to the Lodge after 20 years gone, with all his memories of the Lodge from back in ‘98 driven back into his mind - and part of him is expecting the Lodge to be the exact same way it was when he left. But it’s not. You can’t go home again. The Lodge has moved on without him, which he never expected, and coming back to them is… awkward.

It’s simple. They don’t know what to do with a version of Boyd who’s missed the past 20 years of their lives; Boyd doesn’t know what to do with people who have changed from the folks he knew 20 years ago. He’s lost, floating, and alienated, like going to a high school reunion after not having spoken to a living soul since graduation. It sucks for him. And the only wholly unfamiliar face there, other than the main Pine Guard - who he’s mostly fine with, except for Ned - is Gary, and he can’t help but be irritated with him. That changes, though.

What I essentially want to do is set these versions of the characters up as foils. Similar characters, similar pasts, similar situations that got them to this point. All that’s different is how far in their respective arcs they are. So I’m going to have them be friends. Give each other a chance in the face of a bigger threat, open up a little more, have conversations, talk about things with each other because they’re the only ones around to listen. The Lodge gave them second chances when they needed them most. Maybe they can do that for each other.

This is also to say, I would be a massive fucking liar if I say I haven’t considered having that unfold into a rivals-to-lovers arc. Yeah, I said it. I’ve considered it, at length and in serious detail, since I started drafting the arcs for TCOS. In fact, that’s what I’m probably going to do. I’ve gotten too hooked by the possibility to give it up. I outlined hypothetical futures for the whole cast after the final battle in Sylvain and, given the things I want to happen in that battle and the messy post-war fallout, it makes sense that these two would gravitate towards each other.

It makes a lot more sense in context, believe me. They’ve got a long row to hoe before they trust each other enough to become friends, or even push the envelope towards a romantic relationship - they’d have months and even YEARS to wait to pull that off. Whatever I end up doing with them, they are easily my favorite part of TCOS to unravel, mostly because I - and, honestly, everyone else - probably never saw it coming.

Thanks for the ask, anon. This made my week. So sorry for the long response, but I have so many thoughts on what I’m doing with these idiots, and putting them down on paper was really fun. Any other questions or comments about this? Fire away, I’d be more than willing to answer!

#asks #anon #tcos #if tumblr fucks the formatting and bombards you all with a long-ass post i am SO SORRY #tagging anyway #long post #taz amnesty

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ladyherenya · 4 years ago

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Books read in September

I had a moment of intense self-centredness and, internally, wailed: Why isn’t the world filled with more books that appeal exactly to me???

I’ve concluded that it’s like I have an inner story-troll sitting inside me shouting: Tell me a story! I try to appease it by presenting it with books, one at a time, and seeing how it reacts.

Favourite cover: Flyaway.

Reread: The Shadowy Horses by Susanna Kearsley. (I also reread From All False Doctrine at least twice.)

Also read: The Disastrous Début of Agatha Tremain by Stephanie Burgis and Snow Day by Andrea K Höst.

Still reading: The Time-Traveling Popcorn Ball by Aster Glenn Gray and The Game of Kings by Dorothy Dunnett,

Next up: I have borrowed The Other Side of the Sky by Amie Kaufman and Meagan Spooner, Taking Down Evelyn Tait by Poppy Nwosu, and Between Silk and Cyanide: A Code Maker’s War, 1941-45 by Leo Marks. And maybe I’ll finally get around to The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams?

The City of Brass by S.A. Chakroborty (narrated by Soneela Nankani): I think this Middle East-inspired fantasy was just not the story I was in the headspace for -- it was longer, with more complicated worldbuilding and fewer answers. Possibly I’d have followed the political intrigue of Daevabad better had I read this in one gulp (I got halfway through the 20-hour-long audiobook before it was due back and I read other books before picking up the ebook). I liked the two protagonists, enough that I’m curious about what happens to them next, but the second book is 23 hours long and undoubtedly won’t resolve everything either. Maybe another day.

Tuyo by Rachel Neumeier: Ryo is left as a “tuyo” -- a sacrifice to be killed by an enemy -- as a sign that his tribe will withdraw from the Ugaro’s war with the Lau. But his captor doesn’t want to kill him, he wants Ryo to help him stop the war. Neumeier effectively creates tension between people who are polite, honest and honourable, and shows an intriguing relationship, defined by mutual respect, fealty and something more familial. There’s also some unusual magically-defying-physics-as-we-know-it worldbuilding but apparently I was far more interested in the character dynamics. I enjoyed this. Sequel, please?

From All False Doctrine by Alice Degan: My favourite book this year! Toronto, August 1925. Elsa Nordqvist, who hopes to write her MA thesis on a recently-discovered Greek manuscript, is at the beach with a friend when they meet two foster-brothers. This meeting deftly sets up everything which follows. The cover says “A Love Story” but this is also like a cross between a Golden-Age mystery novel and a fairytale retelling, with bonus academia and Anglicanism. I really like how much these characters value their friendships, their lively, intelligent and often honest conversations, and the way the romance unfolds. It also feels like a story written just for me and a hard one to review because my reaction has been very personal.

The Haunting of Tram Car 015 by P. Djèlí Clark (narrated by Julian Thomas): Set in the same city as A Dead Djinn in Cairo, this novella follows two agents from the Ministry of Alchemy, Enchantments and Supernatural Entities as they investigate a possessed tram car. The world-building is vivid and cleverly, thoughtfully, imaginative. But, perhaps because of the mood I’m in and because this story isn’t interested in exploring the personal lives of its detectives, I have no feelings about this.

The Angel of Crows by Katherine Addison: Sherlock Holmes wingfic involving Jack the Ripper murders. Not what I’m looking for in a Holmes retelling. But I was sufficiently intrigued by something the author wrote. I really like Crow and Dr Doyle (arguably more than their original counterparts). My interest wavered a bit during the second half. It closely mimics the style and structure of the original mysteries in many ways and that’s not my favourite style. I wanted fewer cases to solve, and more of Crow and Doyle interactions. I liked the ending, enough to be glad that I hadn’t given up halfway through.

Making Friends with Alice Dyson by Poppy Nsowu: Australian YA. Alice plans to spend her final year of high school staying invisible and studying hard, but is thrown into the spotlight after someone posts a video of her dancing with Teddy Taualai. I loved how intensely this captures Alice’s emotions and perspective, and how the story explores that people have different emotions, perspectives and needs. Alice seems to me like someone who might be on the autism spectrum -- and whether or not that’s what the author intended, it’s great to see characters like her represented. I wish it had unpacked her relationship with her parents more, but that didn’t negate how much I enjoyed this.

Always and Forever, Lara Jean by Jenny Han (narrated by Laura Knight Keating): I can’t remember why, after I read To all the boys I’ve loved before and P.S. I still love you in 2017, I decided against reading the third book. It turned out to be my favourite. I loved it! I had a different experience of finishing high school and applying for university, but I find Lara Jean’s perspective intensely relatable: she has strong opinions about aesthetics; she’s nostalgic, introspective, stressed by uncertainty; she enjoys spending time at home with her family. I liked how this book captures her wonder at the intimacy of knowing another person well, and how, although she sometimes worries about their future, she has very few doubts about Peter himself. I haven’t come across very many YA novels in which a teenage girl is so secure being in a relationship.

The Rose Garden by Susanna Kearsley: After her sister dies, Eva stays with family friends in Cornwall, where she and Katrina spent summers years ago. I wasn’t expecting time-travel. I like time-travel stories, and I like how Kearsley handles it here. Eva’s choices make sense, given her situation, and the story emphasises that, even though she cannot control when she travels in time, there are still many choices she can actively make. So Eva becomes fascinated with 1715, because of the people she meets there and the relationships they develop... but I wanted to spend more time in the present-day Trelowarth, with its rose gardens and new tea room.

Flyaway by Kathleen Jennings: After she receives a mysterious note, nineteen year old Bettina flouts her mother’s rules for ladylike behaviour and embarks on a roadtrip with a couple of forgotten friends in search of her brothers, who disappeared three years ago. I loved some of the descriptions, especially seeing a rural Australian setting for this sort of fantasy. Jennings creates a wonderfully eerie atmosphere and the mystery kept me reading. However, the folktale parts of the story are dark, uncomfortably so. Very successfully Gothic, just ultimately not really my brand of Gothic.

The Duke Who Didn’t by Courtney Milan: There’s something so incredibly soft about this romance -- yet at the same time, it’s about two people who work fiercely towards their goals, worry about things, and are acutely aware of the discrimination they and other they love face as Chinese people in late 19th century England. Chloe and Jeremy’s relationship is characterised by banter and gentle teasing that reveals just well they know and accept and care about each other. Moreover, they have friends and relatives -- and a community -- who are supportive. I really enjoyed reading this and appreciated how low-angst it is.

The Threefold Tie by Aster Glenn Gray: Very tender. The characters convinced me that they were capable of communicating honesty with each other and making an unconventional relationship work. I liked the prose, which is no great surprise.

Hamster Princess: Whiskerella by Ursula Vernon (aka T. Kingfisher): This time, adventure finds Harriet at home: her parents are throwing a masked ball so she can “meet some nice young princes without terrifying them”. But the princes are all preoccupied with a beautiful stranger, and Harriet is distracted by the mystery: who is this hamster, how did she get in without an invitation and what sort of magic is behind her glass slippers? I think this is my favourite of Harriet’s adventures (so far). I loved the humour in this one.

Echo North by Joanna Ruth Meyer: When Echo finds her missing father unconscious and half-frozen in the woods, she is given a choice by the white wolf. A retelling of “East of the Sun, West of the Moon” with elements from “Beauty and the Beast” and “Tam Lin” thrown in, this has so many things which appeal to me, including an unexpected and wonderful library. Yet I found it frustrating and slow; the prose and the characters are rather straightforward, and I predicted nearly all the twists (bar the finale). But I believe that this tale could delight a younger, or a less critical reader.

The Disastrous Début of Agatha Tremain by Stephanie Burgis: In the two years since she turned sixteen and dismissed her governess, Agatha has been free to disregard ladylike behaviour, studying the books in her father’s library and teach herself magic. But then her aunt arrives and insists upon Agatha making a social début. This novelette is another story that I suspect I’d like more if it had been longer, if some of its ideas had been expanded upon and some of the relationships been given more space to develop. Agatha’s aunt and her motivations were unexpected, and I wasn’t entirely comfortable or satisfied with how that was resolved.

Snow Day by Andrea K. Höst: This novelette takes place after the Touchstone trilogy, more specifically after In Arcadia. Two outsiders get to see Cass and her family on Snow Day, and reveal a bit about their upbringing on Kolar. This feels very much like fanfiction which just happens to be written by the author. It is fun to see familiar characters through others’ eyes and the expanded worldbuilding is interesting, but as a narrative, it seemed somewhat incomplete. (Maybe she’s planning something more with these characters?)

#Herenya reviews books #Rachel Neumeier #Alice Degan #Katherine Addison #Poppy Nwosu #Susanna Kearsley #Ursula Vernon #Joanna Ruth Meyer #Jenny Han #Katheen Jennings #Courtney Milan #P. Djèlí Clark #Stephanie Burgis #Andrea K Höst #S. A. Chakraborty #Aster Glenn Gray

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teshknowledgenotes · 4 years ago

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Charlie Munger: Academic Economics — Strengths and Weaknesses, after Considering Interdisciplinary Need - Notes

My personal history is interesting because it's deficiencies and my peculiarities eventully created advantages. For some odd reason, I had an early and extreme multidisciplinary cast of mind. I couldn't stand reaching for a small idea in my own discipline when there was a big idea right over the fence in somebody else's discipline. So I just grabbed in all directions for the big ideas that would really work. Nobody taught me to do that, I was just born with that yen. I was also born with a huge craving for syntheses. And when it didn't come easily, which was often, I would rag the problem, and then when I failed I would put it aside and I'd come back to it and rag it again. It took me 20 years to figure out how and why the Reverend Moon's conversion methods worked. But the psychology departments haven't figured it out yet, so I'm ahead of them.

But anyway, I have this tendency to want to rag the problems. Because WWII caught me. I drifted into some physics and the Air Corps sent me to Caltech where I did a little more physics as part of being made into a meteorologist. And there, at a very young age, I absorbed what I call the fundamental full attribution ethos of hard science. And that was enormously useful to me. Let me explain that ethos.

Under this ethos, you've got to know all the big ideas in all the disciplines less fundamental than your own. You can never many any explanation, which can be made in a more fundamental way, in any other way than the most fundamental way. And you always take with full attribution to the most fundamental ideas that you are required to use. When you're using physics, you say you're using physics. When you're using biology, you said you're using biology. And so on and so on. I could early on see that ethos would act as a fine organizing system for my thought. And I strongly suspected that it would work really well in the soft sciences as well as the hard sciences, So I just grabbed it and used it all through my life in soft science as well as hard science. That was a very lucky idea for me.

Let me explain how extreme that ethos is in hard Science. There is a constant, one of the fundamental constants in physics, known as Boltzmann's constant. You probably all know it very well. And the interesting thing about Boltzmann's constant in that Boltzmann didn't discover it. So why is Boltzmann's constant now named for Boltzmann? Well, the answer was that Boltzmann derived that constant from basic physics in a more fundamental way than the poor forgotten fellow who found the constant in the first place in some less fundamental way. The ethos of hard science is so strong

What’s Wrong with Economics

The nature of this failure is that it creates what I always all, “man with a hammer syndrome” And that's taken from the folk saying: To the man with only a hammer, every problem looks pretty much like a nail. And that works marvellously to sum up all professions, and all departments of academia, and indeed most practical life. The only antidote for being an absolute klutz due to the presence of a man with a hammer syndrome is to have a full kit of tools. You don't have just a hammer. You've got all the tools. And you've got to have one more trick.

You've got to use those tools checklist-style, because you'll miss a lot if you just hope that the right tool is going to pop up unaided whenever you need it. But if you've got a full list of tools, and go through them in your mind, checklist-style you will find a lot of answer that you won't find any other way. So limiting this big general objection that so disturbed Alfred North Whitehead is very important, and there are mental tricks that help do the job.

A special version of this “man with a hammer syndrome” is terrible, not only in economics but practically everywhere else, including business. It's really terrible in business. You've got a complex system and it spews out a lot of wonderful numbers that enable you to measure some factors. But there are other factors that are terribly important, yet there's no precise numbering you can put to these factors. You know they're important, but you don't have the numbers. Well practically everybody 1) Over-weights the stuff that can be numbered, because it yields to the statistical techniques they're taught in academia, and 2) doesn't mix in the hard-to-measure stuff that may be more important. That is a mistake I've tried all my life to avoid, and I have no regrets for having done that.

My fifth criticism is too little synthesis in economics. Not only with matters outside traditional economics, but also within economics. I have posed at two different business schools the following problem. I say “You have studied supply and demand curves. You have learned that when you raise the price, ordinarily the volume you can sell goes down, and when you reduce the price, the volume you can sell goes up. Is that right? That's what you've learned?” They all nod eyes. And I say “Now you tell me several instances when, if you want the physical volume to go up, the correct answer is to increase the price?” And there's this long and ghastly pause. And finally in each of the two business school in which I've tried this. Maybe one person in fifty could name one instance. They come up with the idea that occasionally a higher price acts as a rough indicator of quality and thereby increases sales volumes.

This happened in the case of my friend Bill Ballhaus. When he was head of Beckman Instruments it produced some complicated product where if it failed it caused enormous damage to the purchaser. It wasn't a pump at the bottom of an oil well, but that's a good mental example. And he realized that the reason this thing was selling so poorly, even though it was better than anybody else's product, was because it was priced lower. It made people think it was a low quality gizmo. So he raised the price by 20% or so and the volume went way up. But only one in fifty can come up with this sole instance in a modern business school, one of the business schools being Stanford, which is hard to get into. And nobody has et come up with the main answer that I like. Supposed you raise the price, and use the extra money to bribe the other guy's purchasing agent? Is that going to work? And are there functional equivalents in economics, microeconomics of raising the price and using the extra sales proceeds to drive sales higher? And of course there are a zillion once you've made that mental jump. It's so simple.

Berkshire had this former savings and loan company, and it had made this loan on a hotel right opposite to the Hollywood Park Racetrack. In due time the neighbourhood changed and it was full of gangs, pimps, and dope dealers. They tore copper pipe out of the wall for dope fixes, and there were people hanging around the hotel with guns, and nobody would come. We foreclosed on it two or three times, and the loan value went down to nothing. We seemed to have an insolvable economic problem, microeconomics problem.

Now we could have gone to McKinsey, or maybe a bunch of professors from Harvard, and we would have gotten a report about 10 inches thick about the ways we could approach this failing hotel in this terrible neighbourhood. But instead, we put a sign on the property that said For sale or rent“ and in came, in response to that sign, a who said “I'll spend $200,000 fixing up your hotel, and buy it at a high price on credit if you can get zoning so I can turn the parking lot into a putting green.”

“You've got to have a parking lot in a hotel” we said.

“What do you have in mind?” he said.

“No my business is flying seniors in from Florida, putting them near the airport, and then letting them go out to Disneyland and various places by bus and coming back. And I don't care how bad the neighbourhood is going to be because my people are self contained behind walls. All they have to do is get on the bus in the morning and come home in the evening, and they don't need a parking lot they need a putting green.” So we made the deal with the guy. The whole thing worked beautifully and the loan got paid off, and it all worked out.

Well I've taken you part way through the synthesis. It gets harder when you want to figure out how much activity should be within private firms, and how much should be within the government, and what are the factors that determine which functions are where, and why do the failures occur, and so on and so on.

It's my opinion that anybody with a high IQ who graduated in economics ought to be able to sit down and write a ten page synthesis of all these ideas that's quite persuasive. And I would bet a lot of money that I could give this test in practically every economics department in the country, and get a perfectly lousy bunch of synthesis. They'd talk about transaction costs. They'd click off a little something that their professors gave them and spit it back. But in terms of really understanding how it all fits together, I would confidently predict that most people couldn't do it very well.

By the way if any of you want to try and do this, go ahead. I think you'll find it hard. In this connection, one of the interesting things that I want to mention is that Max Planck, the great Nobel laureate who found Planck's Constant, tried once to do economics. He gave it up. Now why did Max Planck, one of the smartest people who ever live, give up economics? The answer is he said “It's too hard. The best solution you can get is messy and uncertain” It didn't satisfy Planck's craving for order, and so he gave it up. If Max Planck early on realized he was never going to get perfect order, I will confidently predict all of the rest of you are going to have exactly the same result.

Extreme counterproductive psychological ignorance in economics. Here I want to give you a very simple problem. I specialize in simple problems. You own a small casino in Las Vegas. It has fifty standard slot machines. Identical in appearance, they're identical in function. They have exactly the same payout ratios. The things that cause the payouts are exactly the same. They occur in the same percentages. But there's one machine in this group of slot machines, no matter where you put it among the fifty, in fairly short order, when you go to the machines at the end of the day, there will be 25% more winnings from this one machine than from any other machine. Now surely I'm not going to have a failure here. What is different about the heavy winning machine? Can anybody do it?

Male: More people play it.

Charles Munger: No, no, I want to know why more people play it. What's different about that machine is people have used modern electronics to give a higher ratio of near misses. That machine is going bar, bar, lemon. Bar, bar, grapefruit, way more often than normal machines, and that will cause heavier play. How do you get an answer like that? Easy, obviously there's a psychological cause: That machine is doing something to trigger some basic psychological response.

If you know the psychological factors, if you've got them on a checklist in your head, you just run down the factors, and boom! You get to one that must explain this occurrence. There isn't any other way to do it effectively. These answers are not going to come to people who don't learn these mental tricks. If you want to go through life like a one-legged man in an ass-kicking contest, why be my guest. But if you want to succeed, like a strong man with two legs, you have to pick up these tricks, including doing economics while knowing psychology.

My ninth objection. Not enough attention to virtue and vice effects in economics. It has been plain to me since early life that there are enormous virtue effects in economics, and also enormous vice effects. But economics get very uncomfortable when you talk about virtue and vice. It doesn't lend itself to a lot of columns of numbers. But I would argue that there are big virtue effects in economics, and also enormous vice effects. It doesn't lend itself to a lot of columns of numbers. But I would argue that there are big virtue effects in economics. I would say that the spreading of double-entry bookkeeping by the Monk, Fra Luca de Pacioli was a big virtue effect in economics. It made business more controllable and it made it more honest. Then the cash register. The cash register did more for human morality than the congregational church. It was a really powerful phenomenon to make an economic system work better, just as, in reverse, a system that can be easily defrauded ruins a civilization. A system that's very hard to defraud, like a cash register, helps the economic performance of civilization by reducing vice, but very few people within economics talk about it in those terms.

Religion. I say economic systems work better when there's an extreme reliability ethos. And the traditional way to get a reliability ethos, at least in past generations in America, was through religion. The religions instilled guilt. We have a charming Irish Catholic priest in our neighbourhood and he loves to say, “Those old Jews may have invented guilt, but we perfected it” And this guilt, derived from religion has been a huge driver of a reliability ethos, which has been very helpful to economic outcomes for man.

When I was young, everybody was excited by Godel who came up with proof that you couldn't have a mathematical system without a lot of irritating incompleteness in it. Well, since then my betters tell me that they've come up with more irremovable defects in mathematics and have decided that you're never going to get mathematics without some paradox in it. No matter how hard you work, you're going to have to live with some paradox if you're a mathematician.

Well, if the mathematicians can't get the paradox out of their system when the're creating it themselves, the poor economists are never going to get rid of paradoxes, nor are any of the rest of us. It doesn't matter. Life is interesting with some paradox. When I run into a paradox I think either I'm a total horse's ass to have gotten to this point, or I'm fruitfully near the edge of my discipline. It adds excitement to life to wonder which it is.

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rora-s · 4 years ago

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The Derivative Chapter 8: Sports

Chapter 1 <- Chapter 7

“Do I even need to ask?” David snapped. Uncle Charlie just smiled smugly turning his hand around. The entire table groaned in annoyance.

“It’s not what it looks like, promise” Don spoke up.

“You brother hustling us?” one of Don’s friends Mike muttered.

“I’ve only played once before” Charlie informed as they collected the cards to deal another round of poker. “I actually have a one in eight chance of hitting a set when I’m holding a pocket pair. I’m about 50/50 to draw a flush with suited cards in my hand, two off the draw. I also count my outs I- I multiply by two. I add one. That’s roughly my percentage of hitting.” he explained.

“Card math” I muttered over my father’s shoulder as I walked past the table. Leaning over to snag some chips out of the snack bowl.

“Mr. Eppes you need to take my seat, your son is killing us” David declared as Alan brought out more chips.

“No, not me” Gramps objected “the only other time Charlie played, I learned my lesson about gambling with a mathematician”

“Hey could I-”

“No” Don cut me off “Ms. I-can’t-help-but-card-count”

“Not my fault I was born with perfect visual memory” I muttered as my father got up and headed to the kitchen.

“Hey weren’t we playing with bottle caps?” Charlie pointed out to his father.

“Yeah or else you’d have walked away with the pink slip to my car” Alan informed.

“You know, there is some element of chance here” Charlie explained “you know I- I may just be getting lucky.”

“Or you're just unlucky,” David joked to Mike.

“That’s funny Sinclair keep that up. It comes back to me when baseball starts” Mike countered taking a swig of his beer as dad returned and handed me a Mountain Dew as he sat down with his glass of water.

“Baseball?” Charlie questioned “”the FBI have a team?”

“Yeah, we got a whole league.” David explained “there’s, uh, LAPD, Sheriffs’ department”

“D.A.’s got the killer squad” Mike commented “Now that Kraft’s in San Diego, you guys don’t have a power hitter.”

“What about Don?” Charlie suggested.

“It’s not my thing” Don objected

“Oh, you play?” Mike inquired.

“Don went to college on a baseball scholarship,” Charlie informed. “What are you talking about? You played pro second base.”

“Single A about a million years ago” Don muttered.

“That’s great. It means you’re this year’s ringer.” Mike grumbled.

“Nope. I’m sorry.” Don objected quickly “not interest buddy”

“Come on, you gotta do it” David asked hopefully as Don’s phone rang.

“Excuse me” he murmured to us answering it. “Eppes… we’ll be right there” he declared, getting to his feet.

I sighed and shuffled back toward the kitchen where Alan was. “Looks like I’m spending the night,” I informed.

He looked up at me confused “really? Why?”

Just then Don popped into the doorway pulling on a jacket “hey dad I just got called in can she stay here tonight?”

I gave my grandfather a look who sighed “yes of course”

“Thanks,” Don murmured heading out.

______________

3rd POV.

“I’ve never seen him before,” Mr. Bayle declared, handing Don back the photo of Salazar.

“Are you sure?” the agent asked.

“Yeah” the man confirmed.

“I mean, maybe he did some work for you guys around here.” Don persisted.

“Yeah, he could have. I wouldn’t know” Bayle explained “Lisa was in charge of all that.”

“I’m just trying to figure out if there’s any possibility that this man knew your wife.” Don insisted as they stepped from the other man’s kitchen into his living room.

“Why?” Bayle inquired with a shrug as he stopped to face Don.

“You’re not going to want to hear this” Don prefaced reluctantly “but there are some questions about Cliff Howard’s conviction”

“The bastard said he did it,” Bayle scoffed.

“I know,” Don nodded.

“I haven’t seen you in a year” Bayle continued “I haven’t seen you since you interrogated me for 48 hours.”

“Sir..” Don tried to speak up but the other man continued.

“I had to call the funeral home handcuffed to a table.”

“I was pursuing your wife’s murder wherever it took me” Don attempted to explain his actions. “So help me..” he paused shaking his head and biting his lip and Bayle took the moment to speak again.

“Now you want to tear these wounds open again.”

“I don’t want to do that,” Don objected adamantly.

Both men paused to breathe and Don’s eyes wandered over to the mantel where he spotted a picture he recognized he shuffled over to point at it “that’s your, uh, your daughter. What’s her name? Paula?” he asked, trying to remember.

“Yes” Jonas answered, his voice still tense with emotion.

“Right. May I?” Don gestured to the photo.

“Go ahead,” Bayle allowed. Don took the photo from the mantel and looked at the young girl. “She’s a sophomore now.”

“Yeah, so is my daughter,” Don admitted.

“You have a daughter?” Jonas asked, surprised.

Don nodded “her names Abby.” he chuckled slightly with a bittersweet spike in his gut “yeah she came to live with me not too long ago after her mother died, car crash”

“I’m sorry” Bayle murmured, shifting on his feet.

Don replaced the photo and turned to face the other man. “Jonas, don’t you want to know the truth about your wife’s death?”

“Cliff Howard is the truth,” Bayle insisted.

______________

Abby POV.

“Okay tell me I’m crazy” Larry declared, setting his pencil down and rubbing his face with his hands. “I think I’ve just found a way to express Calabi-Yau manifolds in a way that goes beyond the existence of a nonvanishing harmonic spinor.”

“You're crazy,” I muttered, taking another bite of my food.

“Ch- Charles” Larry whined when he received no response from his fellow mathematician.

“Has he been out there all night?” Uncle C questioned turning away from the window he had been gazing out of. Watching my father play basketball.

“Well, on the bright side it seems like Don’s taken up an interest in sports again.” Alan commented.

Charlie sighed taking the seat next to me “it’s like the evidence proves him right and wrong at the same time”

“Oh, yeah, the old paradox of Schroedinger’s cat.” Larry murmured.

“Is that that persian that keeps hiding out in our garage?” Alan inquired.

“No, that's the Myers down the street’s cat” I muttered, taking a sip of my drink.

“It’s an intellectual exercise,” Charlie explained.

“I knew that,” Alan lied.

“Okay this is vastly simplified” Larry prompted “there’s a cat in a box. 50/50 chance it’s been poisoned, but now here’s the paradox: until such time as we can open the box and observe the cat, for that time, that cat is both alive and dead.”

“Larry I-I fail to see the analogy, though.” Charlie objected “I mean, in reality Don can’t be both right and wrong at the same time.”

“Well, of course not.” Alan chimed in “I mean, if a man is both right and wrong, then something’s gotta be wrong.”

“Positive and a negative equal a negative?” I scoffed.

“No. the truth of Schroedinger’s cat is that the question itself is meaningless until we look inside the box.” Larry informed.

“So you could ask a whole different question” I voiced.

“For a whole different result” Larry finished. Uncle Charlie immediately straightened and turned to look at the window again. Before getting up and heading outside after his brother. “Well and off he goes again to help solve the unjust of the world”

“You can always tell when he gets an idea he spaces out then runs” I muttered.

Larry hummed in agreement “you know you are quite insightful young enigma quite like your uncle I’m surprised you’ve yet to push ahead of your peers in academia like he so did”

“Oh here we go” Alan muttered.

“Well I’ve tried they won’t put me in advanced classes because I wasn’t in school consistently as a kid.” I explained.

“Well that’s absurd a brilliant mind shouldn’t be held back by the amount of desks they haven’t sat at or lectures they’ve witnessed” Larry voiced in annoyance.

“Preaching to the choir,” I told him.

“Yes but do me a favor and don’t get on the soap box of yours again” Gramps asked me.

I nodded in agreement and picked at the last bits of food on my plate. “You know what?” Larry spoke up causing me and Alan to look at him but his eyes were trained on me “you should attend CalSci once you’ve escaped high school. We have no such requirements if you show the aptitude”

“I don’t know I’m still looking at quite a bit of time being forced to look at this stuff in school let alone do I want to keep having to do school work beyond it.” I pointed out.

“No no no” Larry objected waving his hands “it’s not like that at CalSci you can learn what you want and gain knowledge and work to gather more knowledge of the universe itself with a very hands on approach”

I sighed finishing off my dinner and gathered my dishes. “I’ll think about it”

“Very well” Larry accepted the answer as I stood up.

“You done?” Alan asked.

“Yeah” I murmured, taking my dishes into the kitchen. I glanced out the window and spotted my Uncle joining my father in his basketball playing. I loved basketball. The one sport I was decent at. As I watched my mind different back to just shortly before I went to live with my father here.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~

3rd POV.

“Yo Calvin” Abby looked up from where she was sitting with her back to a wall in the courtyard book in hand. A girl named Naomi was looking at her from the basketball court with the ball tucked under her arm. Other girls around her were glancing in Abby’s direction and muttering to each other. “We need a even number get over here”

Abby hesitated. Veronica was standing on the court eyeing her with the same hate in her eyes. However after one of her accomplices came over and whispered in her ear she nodded her agreement with the situation.

Abby sighed and closed her book getting up and heading to the court. “‘ight y’all line up me and V will choose the teams,” Naomi declared.

Abby stood in line with the seven other girls they had goated into playing with them. Veronica stuck to choosing her pals and Naomi was smart enough not to choose them but Veronica only had three friends and Abby ended up being the last one on the line as Naomi chose the girl next to her.

“Calvin and V on the same team” one of the girls on Naomi’s team voiced “this’ll be interesting.”

Abby scoffed and took her position on the court. “Hey bookworm don’t get in the way” Veronica snapped.

“Then stay out of mine” Abby shrugged. Veronica shot her a glare as the other girls jeered.

“Hey let’s play” Naomi called everyone’s attention.

The game started out easy. Naomi had the ball and was heading down the court. Abby intercepted her snagging the ball easily and heading down the court when she was slammed in the side hitting the ground. Veronica had the ball now and shot it into the hoop.

“Hey!” Abby yelled getting back to her feet “thought we were on the same team”

“Thought I said stay out of my way” Veronica retaliated coming up to get Abby’s face.

“Hey knock it off” Naomi pushed between the girls “either play or leave and sort your shit out the way you normally do and land in the infirmary”

“You telling me what to do, china?” Veronica snarled at Naomi.

Naomi shifted back a bit “I’m actually Korean not that it matters but what I’m trying to do is play some basketball. Now you two can go duke it out if you want at least it’ll keep the teams even”

Veronica scoffed “whatever” she stalked back onto the court.

Abby sighed and followed the game started up again and Abby barely touched the ball as it was passed from player to player. Until it got to a point where they had five minutes left of courtyard time and Naomi’s team was up by one.

“We need to score. You beat Naomi at ball, that's a serious brag even with dead weights like Harp and Richards on her team” Veronica’s lacky Fiona stated.

“Yeah well we aren’t going to if Veronica tries to score again” Abby muttered to the rest of the huddle.

“You saying I can’t shoot Calvin?” Veronica turned to her angry.

“No I’m saying our entire strategy has been geared to give you glory this entire time and they’ve figured that out” Abby explained “that’s why they’ve blocked our last five attempts.”

“What? You want us to pass it to you?” Veronica asked “that ain’t how that works Calvin”

“I don’t care who you pass it to” Abby shrugged “you just gotta pass it”

Veronica thought about it a moment “Alright Fi you take it” she declared. “Let’s go”

“Okay” Fiona muttered, sounding unsure.

The game started and Naomi’s team got the ball dribbling down the court. Veronica intercepted as Abby and Fiona headed down opposite sides of the court. Veronica looked to pass it and saw Naomi guarding Fiona who was looking less than confident. Then she saw Calvin raise her hand. She was completely open. No one expected Veronica to pass the ball to the one girl she beat up every other day.

Veronica passed the ball. Abby caught it easy and dribbled it a step before shooting it circled the hoop before dropping in to the cheers of the team.

“Alright ladies time to get inside” one of the matron’s called from the door the girls shuffled to the door Naomi scooping the ball.

“Nice shot Calvin” Naomi told her, shoving her shoulder as she passed.

Abby grabbed her book and headed inside. She was heading down the hall at a casual pace before she was pinned to the wall. Veronica had her collar. “That was a one time thing you got that?”

Abby blinked at the other girl “really? You're so insecure about your status you have to make that point?” she asked with every ounce of sass she could muster.

Veronica growled and threw her to the floor Abby got on her feet and shoved Veronica’s middle. The bigger girl pushed her away and soon they were grabbing at each other pulling hair and scratching. Soon someone was there to pull them apart.

“Why do any of us expect different of those two?” Abby heard Naomi mutter to Fiona as Abby and Veronica were led to the infirmary.

~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_

Abby POV.

“Bye Uncle Charlie” I called from the shade as the mathematician peeled off the fence of the batting cages and headed back to his car.

“Bye Abbs” Charlie replied with a wave. I glanced over at my father as another crack of baseball on bat sounded. He was really starting to get into a rhythm, a proud smile on his face. I smiled lightly and returned to my reading. However there was only a moment of peace before Don appeared grabbing his water bottle and taking a swig.

“You want to take a few whacks?” He asked, gesturing to the batting cage.

I shot another look over at the ball spitter. “Uh no thanks I’ve never really..” I trailed off gesturing at the cage with an implied statement and apathetic wave.

Don looked at the cage then back at me with a small amount of shock evident in his face. “You’ve never played baseball before?” He asked in disbelief.

“Maybe once in gym class” I shrugged answering honestly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed Donald but I’m kinda on the nerd side of things”

Don scoffed. “Come on” he grabbed my book and much to my relief remembered to put the bookmark in its place before closing it. “No daughter of mine is going to go through life without playing baseball”

I scoffed as I was pulled to my feet and given a helmet. I would normally put up a bit more of a fight but I knew that this sport meant a lot to him. So I kept my remarks to myself and went along with it. We headed out to the cage. He showed me what position to take. How to hold the bat properly and watch the ball.

Even with his coaching it took a while before I actually hit the ball. When I did it was quite auspicious to us both. Despite it not going anywhere near where we wanted it to go. There was a lot of laughing and joking and we both left happy reliving the events in story with some subtle elaborations. Don excited to take me back some time.

Chapter 9 ->

#Don Eppes #Charlie Eppes #Alan Eppes #Larry Fleinhardt #amita ramanujan #Terry Lake #David Sinclair #Numb3rs #numb3rs season 1 #don has a daughter #Episode Related #episode per chapter #also on quotev #Also posted on AO3

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