#also this whole mentality being the main reason why he flips his shit at the start of the red r.obin run... because while d.ick explicitly

[detectim]

thinking (rambling) abt tim and how he's never really seen himself as a sidekick . . .

idk exactly how i wanna structure this, and i already wanna do one of those comic weave things so i have an excuse to throw a ton of panels on the dash, but i just... from the very beginning, he's seen robin as an equal partnership, and i just think that's really interesting. he went into it knowing 1) that there was a 50% chance he ends up dead, but more importantly 2) that batman just doesn't WORK without robin. he lets the cops and the rogues and pretty much any civilian call him a sidekick or a baby and hardly corrects them, but he's so confident in the fact that he's a Partner. he doesn't see himself as less than or below batman, and while he does have a need for validation, almost all of it (at least at the start bc i'm re-reading and only on like #17, he's still a lil bird) comes from wanting to live up to the mantle and the legacy and the weight that the costume has on it, ESPECIALLY after jason's death. he puts such a heavy importance on symbolism and he just wants to do it right, to be the kind of robin that his younger self obsessed over before he got thrust into it.

also, a lot of the 93 robin run is him solving things on his own! i mean, yeah, it's a Tim Run:tm: but .. hear me out. half the time, they write bruce off as too busy with another mission, or busy w wayne stuff, or hurt, or whatever the hell happened w that jean paul dude (that's a whole other side ramble abt symbolism, tim said fuck ur 'batman' it's just robin now <3) , and i get that a lot of the time it's because he's got his own run. there's a point where jack puts him back in private school for a while, forcing him to go be robin over there, but you get the idea.. he's alone (without bruce, he's not lacking a support system he just isn't constantly connected to batman) a LOT. and i think that isolation along with everything else just feeds into the fact that he doesn't see himself as a sidekick, idk how to end this thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

[chirpsythismorning]

But what if, what if with Mike they are more of showing than telling because even though he is good with words (he even wants to be a writer) on this topic he just, he can't even explain it to himself??? What if it's also because he feels he doesn't really have a say?????

I would be more on board with this if there wasn’t the cloud of homophobia also being involved. That’s the main difference with Mike and Nancy’s arcs.

And even in the case he hasn’t been able to explain it to himself up to this point, that doesn’t mean he’ll never be able to confront it and face the truth.

It’s the 80s, there’s satanic panic (with them specifically mentioning sodomy and using words about hellfire spreading like a disease…), all while we’re looking at a character who grew up in a house that was presented as conservative on numerous occasions. Them taking the time to show all of that wasn’t for shits and giggles.

I honestly don’t think there is one definitive way to look at this, because it could be a combination of many things.

We know when Mike brought up his and El’s fight to Will at the junkyard, he says he didn’t know what to say, only to nod in agreement when Will says that it’s scary to open up and say how you feel (especially with people you care about the most), because what if they don’t like the truth.

There would be no reason for a sequence like that, among the many like it that imply there is something more to what’s going on with Mike than it seems, especially when we the audience know all Mike had to say was I love you in that moment, if it doesn’t lead to anything deeper being confronted in the end.

I find myself having to do a lot of mental gymnastics, to come to a conclusion s4 already led us to (with the intention to lead us astray). The ga is convinced all it boils down to is Mike being insecure and that’s that.

But we still have a whole season left and a lot of hints showing that there is more to it than that. And there arguably has to be if they want to flip the switch and make byler endgame.

They could go a route that takes away the deeper significance to all of those moments in previous seasons and make them lead to nothing, or have that all be intentional build up to a revelation.

I think Mike saying repeatedly in s4 the truth is only to have those several truths contradict each other, means that we arguably don’t have the full truth yet, because how could we if those truths don’t exactly align? We’re at the very least due for some elaboration from Mike’s end.

Mike does have the qualities of an aspiring writer, and with the many hints already surrounding it, we are very likely due for some words written of his own. And the details in his writing would likely connect a lot of his insecurities with fears that we already know of, combined with ones he hasn’t opened up about yet himself, warranting them waiting this long to make us aware of Mike’s feelings in the first place.

Bc if everything was always as simple as Mike just being confused with no grasp on why, they didn’t need to dramatically stretch it out the way they did. This last season has to top everything that came before it, so it makes sense to save a revelation like this for last. If how Mike truly feels is what he tells us in s4, they should have saved it for last, but they didn’t for a reason…

Arguably I’d rather just have Mike and El stay together if the only problem in their relationship is Mike being insecure and not being able to open up about that. But that’s not all there is to it, which is what we’re likely going to find out Mike’s side of things in s5 (unfiltered), along with El’s side of things, which has been out of our reach since their fight and notably during his love confession.

I do agree that Mike doesn’t think he has a say, but I would argue that doesn’t mean he has no idea what he feels/wants. Arguably, he’d have to have at least a taste of knowing what he truly wants, in order to be battling so much uncertainty.

The thing that makes byler so easy to ship for a lot of ppl now, is because they sense there are mutual feelings between Mike and Will, whereas we see Mike pulling back from El and struggling with something internally which is getting him in the way of committing to El.

If it was abundantly clear to me that Mike loved El romantically and she loved him back, Will’s feeling’s would be beside the point. And that’s how a majority of the audience looks at it, because they think there is no chance Mike could feel the same about Will.

The only reason a lot of bylers have an easier time shipping byler is because they see the opposite going on. They see that Mike is struggling bc of feelings for Will, which makes it so easy to root for them.

You don’t have to be with someone just bc they like you. And so if all there was to it, was Mike and El loving each other all the while Will is loving Mike too, it wouldn’t matter bc Mike loves El. Period. But the problem is, that’s not the impression bylers are getting when they pay attention to the details along the way that have led us to this point.

Again, if byler was a straight ship and Mike was straight, it would be a lot easier for me to come to a similar conclusion we’ve come with Nancy.

But since it’s not, I just can’t write off the implications that queerness and the fears that come with how that affects the situation bc it definitely does.

People still today struggle with coming out, and so just adding the 80’s setting alone makes it hard for me to write off Mike’s struggle as him just not knowing what to say or think, when he has every right to be scared if he even has a good idea of what the truth is.

And there’s no use in disputing that when the queer-coding is there for a reason. If we’re gonna say queer coding doesn’t matter, then at that point byler doesn’t either. Bc the queer-coding is what points to them being most compatible and presumably endgame.

[blindtaleteller]

Time to pull out my crazy research notes again? Because THIS: though it isn't even quite that simple, either. Chester makes it blatantly obvious he was not the pick that the governments involved wanted, or expected; at all.

He makes it clear during that scene, that they were in fact only humoring Erskine in allowing Steve into the program at Erskine's request.

And, that base governmental mentality sticks all the way through to TFATWS too almost a century later, in giving the shield to John Walker (aka US Agent) as a decorated veteran soldier.

(and staying true to this in TFATWS is one of the few countering reasons I give that series a decent pass out of the shit show that has been phase 4 and 5 so far: but that's a whole other discussion.)

---Remember, it was their goal to create a loyal army/armies of men with his ability; to combat the Nazis/Hydra in them first and foremost: it was not a goal to create an independent super hero.

But and that said; on that second paragraph in the above post in particular; there's what Chester Phillips (Tommy Lee Jones in CA1) informs us of outright on screen as to the government's reasoning in that film; because while that's true, they did actually have three or four main reasons for not putting him out with the troops.

Keep in mind that he experiment wasn't just recreated: it was stolen outright by the SSR (see quote indented below) from the Nazi party in CA1 by Erskine (the doctor who recruits Steve pre-serum), whom worked on the Nazi/Hydra project in its early stages and then flipped sides to work with the Allied forces including Carter (that's why she is there as a UK native, according to her own dialogue etc: to represent the Brits in the project) and Phillips.

(as another related note for the films after: Erskine's defection among others is probably the main reason why a newly forming SHIELD probably thought recruiting other Hydra scientists like Zola was a good idea and or acceptable risk vs profit. After all, if Erskine as a former Hydra/Nazi scientist could be successful before and during his death; all they had to do was keep the 'next' Erskine alive. Add in the fact that most of them probably worked on the project pre-defection and there was also the temptation of potentially sucessfully reviving the project with at least a little less feeling around in the dark by Howard Stark, from their perspective.)

Also keep in mind, that the marvel shows at the time (including Carter's series and AoS) were quickly 'disowned' by the then parenting mainline MCU: and those series' creators quickly adapted the shows to reflect that. In other words: they were outright declared not a part of the MCU for literal years (Feige's public statements being the most noted,) despite and regardless of AoS managing to be successful enough to run for several seasons.

If you don't recall that bit about it being an allied project, here's the direct quote re-stating it openly in Chester's address to the potential super soldiers including Steve:

"The Strategic Scientific Reserve is an Allied effort made up of the best minds in the free world. Our goal is to create the best army in history. But every army starts with one man. At the end of this week, we will choose that man. He will be the first in a new breed of super soldiers. And they will personally escort Adolf Hitler to the gates of Hell." ―Chester Phillips [CAtFA 2011]

Anyway and to move on: at the time, Erskine dying during the project's physical activation, was ultimately what pulled the project to a screeching halt (pretty much everyone knows this but yeah.) This has a major impact on the reasoning for Steve being shunted into the USO, rather than shuffling him off immediately to war. In fact, after Erskine's death; they had absolutely no intentions of sending him into actual battle, because of the above AND the following below:

1. Steve is not bullet or death proof: he just heals stupid-fast and has an equally stupid-fast metabolism (see his attempt at getting drunk in CAtFA among others.)

"You're an experiment. You're going to Alamogordo."

"The serum worked."

"I asked for an army and all I got was you. You are not enough." ―Chester Phillips and Steve Rogers [CAtFA 2011]

That said: what they were left with post explosion; was a living and breathing but not grenade, mortar, or bulletproof final product that they had yet to figure out how to reproduce in order to A - make good on the project's promise, and B - make good on the investments in time, manpower, other resources and especially #2: at a time when the war with the Nazis and with Hydra was already underway..

2. Money: and a ton of it from multiple governments.

The project, of which Steve was at the time the only successful product? Cost millions, between two major represented countries (again, the British had their part and investment in the SS program too, represented by Peggy.) From securing Erskine, to developing the new serum in the late 30s-40s, to training, selection, equipment, manpower diverted from the wartime effort on the actual battle fronts and more to manage all that. Today, and with inflation included, this would equate to billions of dollars/euros.

As a soft third and fourth, and one mentioned early in? There's also the facts of what else they already know the serum does, as stated by Erskine himself, and the fact that post-serum Steve has at that point yet to prove whether it has had any ill effects, or fatal personality issues (like, for instance Walker) that could have made him into a literal ticking time bomb.

After all, an American-branded version of Schmidt, they do not want or need.

Now, fast forward just a bit, and yep!

Erskine is still dead.

They are down even that living walking money sink of a success: but, they have his samples.

Zola is alive......as not only one of those who might have (and probably did) work briefly with Erskine; but also Schmidt's (Red Skull) main scientist and player in Hydra in both making the weapons Hydra focused on after losing Erskine, but also worked on Schmidt's attempt at the continuation of Erskine's work on the side.

(this one above is why Bucky and the Commandos were there and kept where they were, and in what condition as unwilling test subjects after their capture too: this is barely brushed in the dialogue etc, but it is there and mentioned off screen as well as in the acting that made it into the final cuts. Most notable is the fire scene. It isn't just Steve having a staring contest across that fiery gap. Bucky is staring at Zola too: the scientist who experimented on them during their captivity. most remember Schmidt umasking; but not the build-up stare-down between all four of them, leading up to it.)

Lastly, they have Stark; his business, money, and own genius in war tech: also wanting to stay on board and attempt to recover the project.. for both personal and other reasons.

And don't fool yourself, there were clearly other reasons involved, as a tech developer who was on board from the start: and whose son continued his running contracts with the governments involved and more, well after his death on December 16th, 1991.

Talking about Zola though; it's very likely that the Hydra-only end of the program --aka the Winter Soldier program-- while Hydra was still re-growing under Shield and it's other cells, was mostly his: if more remote in nature as far as his involvement.

After all, and again; Zola was inserted into Shield (and later if not immediately) under Stark, to potentially survey the work if not take even a minor part in it.. and probably had part in orchestrating Howard's death as part result to boot. After all.. Stark had to take that stuff out of the labs either in Jersey where we see Zola in AI form later or another location, at some point in '91; for it to get into his trunk.

This is where things confirmed about the project get sticky and weird, as either TFATWS in particular ignores the set history that caused Howard's death, or simply rewrites it to enable the over the top racial messaging in having Bradley be a success and figure much further back.

Because remember; the entire reason Stark Sr. was targeted was the fact he finally was A--only successful in making the completed serum by the late 1980s to 1991, and B--was personally transporting the then only five full doses of it in the trunk of his car of all places.

(don't get me started.. lol plot devices, but on the flip side; I suppose his not securing that better and taking Erskine's influence and death especially into account, is reason enough on the handling it personally bit. Though, I still question why he took his wife along while having that in the trunk. Like dude, if you're gonna be that cautious/paranoid in the attempt: and are aware governments have and will kill for it? why the hell would you have your wife in the same car???? Not to be an ass, but was he looking to take that chance to avoid a messy and costly divorce or summat? this is the epitome of examples where 'I'll meet you at the airport/hotel/winter house honey, i gotta do this thing real quick' definitely would have been possible and forgivable; and saved her even being in danger of being eliminated as a witness: which, as one of the founding members of SHIELD and at the top for decades, should have come to mind if he was thinking in that direction. but.. again plot devices? lol)

Ultimately, I chalk that bit in TFATWS up to pushing the off screen politics harder than the story and it's quality: as has been part of the current MCU for years now, but was especially picking up momentum during that era.

In the end, TFATWS pulled that story off (and even this part of the story concerning the serum) only slightly better because of the other off kilter counters they implemented from the previous takes out of Chester & the other examples of both sides of the project.

I think I'll stop there for now unless asked for more: because even just copy/pasting out of my research for Lokiverse docs, it is stupid long already..? 🤣💚

PS-- Some sections are just plain copy/pasted right out of my research docs for Universes like 'Bounce (Secret)' aka V1:Uni6, and post-snap Steeped, V1:Uni17. This includes side notes especially.

I also really wish we had just a couple more formatting options on tumblr. Underline, a smaller size than regular, a more advanced control of things like numbered list that doesn't auto-indent between paragraphs, etc.

Time to remember that the troops did not like Captain America at first lmao. Understandably so, I'd even say. Steve made the Captain America that everyone grew to love. That admiration wasn't just handed to him. Steve built everything that was revered in Cap. Not the other way around.

[radiosummons]

Maybe I'm the dumb one or whatever, but ... I like Anakin because he's the worst.

I know some of y'all really love him for reasons and for some of you those reasons mostly just involve doing a bunch of insane mental gymnastics to somehow "justify" his heinous af choices (i.e. trying to blame the Jedi for literally every dumb little thing he did, but whatever).

But, guys ... come the fuck on. The reason Anakin's such a great character (please note I said *character,* not a *person*) is because he's a selfish piece of shit that ruined the lives of everyone he loved and then made the entire galaxy suffer for his mistakes.

My guy, that is tragedy and hubris at its fucking finest. That is some A-grade quality shit right there.

I'm really starting to doubt if some of y'all have ever read/experienced a piece of media where the main character isn't a paragon of all things good and moral. You don't have to flip over backwards to justify liking a villain.

Personally, I never want Anakin to change. I want him to keep making shit choices, I want him to keep hurting people and being a selfish butthurt dictator prick. I like that he's a piece of shit that abused the trust that his loved ones put in him because it fucking hurts to see him become the monster he is.

It hurts to see a character you care so much about actively making the choice to turn themselves into their absolute worst. It's downright heartbreaking to see them hurt their loved ones and it's all the more tragic when their love transforms into selfish obsession and possession.

Yes, Palpatine did manipulate Anakin. BUT-Anakin still made the choice to kill Mace, to burn down the Jedi Temple, to rob the 501st of their autonomy (something a former slave should never have been okay with btw), forced his men to participate in killing fucking children, killed his own wife and endangered the lives of his own unborn children, attacked and attempted to kill his brother/father figure, and then continued to subjugate and destroy the lives of millions, if not outright billions for nearly two whole decades.

(He also tortured his son and daughter, their friends, their allies, etc. And like ... maimed his own son 'cause like why the fuck not? Fuck, I haven't even gone into detail about the absolute horror he put Obi-wan and Ahsoka through. Fuck me).

Anakin is the worst. And he's an amazing character. Both of these facts can exist at the same time.

Tldr: y'all are really out here acting like Anakin wasn't a big boy who didn't make big boy choices. Let him be a prick.

[arlakos]

Miraculous Rant

Actually, you know what, while im still mad from the previous post I made, lets go off on a rant. No punches pulled. Lets do this.

The lovesquare is the most terrible ship in this fandom. One girl is a hyper obsessed stalker who tracks her crush with her planner for 3 whole seasons, while the boy couldn’t learn to take a hint and stop flirting for 3 whole seasons until he decided to move on with another girl. Ironically that makes them perfect for eachother, but its in a creepy kind of way, not a loving kind of way.

Adrigami and Lukanette in the S3 Finale were wasted events and never should have occured because they were immediately axed in the first few episodes of the next season. I feel sorry for those that were hoping their ships could be real for at least a short actual while, and it makes me want to curse the writers for their story-boner for the status quo of teases

Despite what I said earlier, none of the girls are good for Adrien. Marinette’s stalkery and a borderline yandere, Kagami’s somewhat controlling and too similar to Adrien help him grow as a person, Chloe is a queen bee beyotch and honestly too much like a sibling to Adrien, and Lila is garbage. Fuck it, have Luka date Adrien and they can play some sweet music together (not like that you pervs, I meant they both play instruments).

Nino needs more love. Not only that, but there needs to be more Adrien/Nino bro moments. If Marinette and Alya can have moments together, why not the bros?

Chloe’s character is a mess, and is neither redeemable, nor notably evil. Her role as a villain in season 1 is very hamfisted, such as in the episodes Mr Pigeon and Kung Food. Not only that, Chloe also lacks any of the qualities that makes a good “bully villain” or rival to Marinette, and her sympathetic moments (which are Written by Sebastien) are mostly overshadowed by the fact that Astruc wants her to be a bully, so it just makes her bipolar and confusing when her character is tugged between two writers.

Chloe should not have joined Hawkmoth in Miracle Queen, see my other post as to why I think so. TLDR, its kinda ooc  for her to go full on 2d villain like Hawkmoth especially after Miraculer, plus Lila was being build up to be the main antagonist of S3

Chloe got kicked from the Team in Miraculer because people know her identity? Fine. Kagami gets to be Ryuko again despite being known to Hawkmoth in Ikari Gozen? Not cool. Ladybug shouldn’t be a hypocrite and be willing to break her own rules just because “Kagami is my friend and Chloe’s not”. Same goes for her breaking the rule with secrect identities with Alya, only for her to go on and on about the rules to Chat when he pries.

Zoe is a bland character who’s only notable trait that she likes Marinette, which automatically makes her worthy of a miraculous after two episodes and no actual development.

Astruc is a petty frick who makes episodes that give the finger to fans of the show that have a different opinion than him. Queen Banana, Miracle Queen, and Reverser are good examples of this (Reverser did Nathaniel dirty).

Master Fu is a shit guardian. Read my post for more.

FRICK THE FEAST EPISODE. Not only did is ruin Fu as character, it ruined all the good theories as to why the order fell, and wasted the idea of a new villain being introduced or even taking over as the main antagonist! Speaking of Feast, despite the sentimonster destroying an order when he wasn’t even big, he still go beat by 2 kids even when he was supersized!

Marinette is not a good Guardian. Her ability to choose heroes does not make her capable, and just because “tradition is stupid” doesnt mean that Marinette shouldn’t be tested like others before her!

Despite the Kwami’s being ancient magical buildings, they seem to act like kids a lot, and that annoys me when in S1 they are supposed to apparently be mentors to their wielders, like how Tikki was before she was mentally de-aged.

Lila is trash and should be removed from the show. The only reasons her lies work is because the writers dumb down every other character in the show and ignore the fact the people have smartphones with google.

The “Miraculous” Ladybug spell should require both Ladybug and Chat Noir to cast, because not only does the power have nothing to do with creation, but it also “destroys” anything created by the akuma, which thematically makes no sense. Also it would place more emphasis on the two heroes being equals and “two halfs of the same coin”

On that note, Ladybug has too many powers. Not only is she the only one who can purify akumas, and can cast a spell that can fix Paris time and time again like its no one’s buisness, but she also now gets a new suit and the ability to nullify Hawkmoth’s akumas. Like COME ON! Give Chat some powers too.

Mayura’s feather’s shouldnt be able to be purified by Ladybug since they have no dark energy, and (thematically speaking) Chat should be given an ability that allows him to “vanquish” the energy in Mayura[’s feathers similar to how Ladybug can purify Hawkmoth’s akumas. At least it would develop a rivalry between Chat and Mayura, and would make Chat necassary against Shadowmoth rather than being replacable with any other hero.

The are too many temporary heroes. They should have just stuck with the 3 heroes from s2 and leave it at that. Sure, new heroes were cool, but the overuse has made the whole hero thing feel less special. It made sense for the first 3 to have them, but now it’s just like Oprah where everyone gets a miraculous. Except Gabe.

Chat Blanc was a stupid reason as to why secret identities cant be revealed, also Chat could have told LB who Hawkmoth once he returned back to normal was and the show would be over.

Hawkmoth should not be Gabriel. Frick the lore about Gabriel’s wife dying and him going evil to get her back, it makes the story feel too much like a star wars/Darth vader reference and leaves Gabriel acting bipolar, flipping from wanting to save his wife and doing this out of necessity to being a power hungry madman wanting to take over the world ( which is said in his canon music video). Having Hawkmoth be his own character means he can be an actual maniac who wants world domination and not just have villanous plot that rely on obtaining magical jewellery (perhaps doing other evil things/taking a more active role), while Gabriel being his own character means he can be a father that has become estranged from his son due to the lose of his S,O, and thus can have a plot about him reuniting with his son (I liked the end seen in Simon says, ok?)

On that same note, I think Mayura shouldn’t have been Nathalie. Considering Hawkmoth’s plans were repetitive as heck for most of the show, when I heard about the Mayura leaks back in Season 2 (when she was called “le Paon”) I was theorising that Mayura would actually being Hawkmoth’s boss, the villain the was responsible for giving him his Miraculous and the one who destroyed the Order of the Miraculous, and would take over as the main villain in season 3 due to Hawkmoth’s failures. However, that turned out not to be the case.

Not only that, but Mayuras power is a copy paste power with some modifications to make it complement Hawkmoth’s power, by basically giving his akuma’s magic pokemon.

Speaking of Hawkmoth’s power, for a miraculous that is supposed to be used for good, how can his power mind control people and make them become evil? More importantly, for a miraculous that is supposedly weaker than the main heroes of the show, having it be able to multiply and posses people to create an army is kinda strong.

Fuck the Maribat ship that the salt fandom came up with. Its trash, it was made to bash most of the Miraculous cast sans Marinette, and anyone thinks it is good are either those same salters or are the same people who think that Rey-lo and the Twilight Saga are masterpieces of romance.

Whew! I needed that vent. Hope you enjoyed it as as much as I did, and Tune in next time on the next episode of:  Arlakos loses his Mind and Rants for 2 pages of writing!

[tsunonotarou]

Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...

notes — Bro I fucking THIRST for this man he can rip me open

— Also I think I’m gonna start this series called “Being Childhood Friends to Lovers with...” because childhood friends to lovers shit is my kind of shit

— We’re debuting this series with Leona 🥳

BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH...

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— AS A CHILD

He cherishes you a lot even though he might not show it

You’re the first ever person who acknowledges him, first ever person who approached him first and talked to the second son

He thought you were strange at first, because why would you talk to a mere second born when the first is right here with you? So he distances himself and avoided you at first, thinking you have ulterior motives

You got the signs and didn’t pester him after that—which he is glad for—but he find himself secretly looking at you or purposely look for you in the castle whenever you come visit (let’s say you’re a royalty too and your parents’ are good friends)

It was when he saw you sulking and pouting by yourself, he felt bad and maybe, you just wanted to be friends

The servants always prepared your favorite sweets when you come visit but you didn’t want any after realizing that he’s ignoring you

So he took some, went to look for you and threw them at you

“H-Huh?—“ you got startled and quickly looked up, seeing his neutral expression on and looking down on you

“So, your parents bought you that whatever thing you want, and then what?”

The way he remembers your one-sided conversation with him before honestly made you tear up, you didn’t think he was listening

From then on, you were also excited to visit the king’s castle because you get to see him, and you made sure to bring various of things over for him and you to play

There was one time he accidentally overheard some servants of yours “advising” you to stop hanging around with Leona Kingscholar, saying how he isn’t worth your time and shouldn’t be influenced by him

Though he was sure of your loyalty and friendship with him, he still has his doubts, maybe, you secretly dislike him too

He waited for your response, your silence only made him more anxious as time pass by

“...Hey.” He bit the inside of his cheek, awaiting for your answer

“I’m gonna ask my parents to fire you all.”

His eyes were wide as ever, and so were the servants’

“B-But please, Princess/Prince Y/N-“

“I will not tolerate anyone who badmouths my friend, moreover, who do you guys think you are? Telling me who I should be friends with now?”

As much as Leona tries to stop it, his eyes watered, lips quivering at your words

He never told you how he eavesdropped your conversation with those servants, because eventually it’ll lead to how he reacted, and he’s never going to tell you he almost cried

He taught you how to roar once, got super red when he himself haven’t even mastered it yet

Glares at your form rolling on the floor laughing

— AS TEENAGERS

He is two years older than you, so he got enrolled into Night Raven College first, during the times he was at the dorm you were bored to death

One of the main reasons (probably the only reason) why he’d go back home during breaks is because of you, he could care less about the grand welcome back party—which he was sure the servants were forced to put up—and the fake smiles from relatives, but he had to see you

Is always prepared for the uncalled tackle hug from you but somehow you always manage to knock him off balance, causing the two of you to fall down onto the sandy ground

You rambled and rambled, he listened but solely focused on how your features changed, you definitely grew up, got more attractive, too

Oh fuck

He mentally cursed when he finally realizes how his heart is beating in an unusual pace, feeling his cheeks warm up and how he felt like melting right there and then

Buried his feelings deep down because of his insecurities and acted as normal as he could with you after

You have never seen him panicked so much, got so angry and frustrated before, it happened once, when the topic of arranging a marriage for you and his older brother, Farena, was mentioned

He strongly opposes the idea but reminding him that he is only a second son, hence have no say in this matter was enough to shut him down

You tried to go after Leona who stormed to his room but decided you have more important matters at hand, matters that you need to clarify first

Politely declining the marriage and telling how Farena is a good person, but you have eyes for someone else

Everyone in the room (which consisted of both your parents and Farena) knew who you were talking about, and they were shocked, to say the least

You can clearly see the discomfort in yours and his’ parents faces, but you also can clearly see Farena’s secret wink towards you, telling you he approves

You and Farena never had any romantic feelings for each other anyway, and he was always teasing about you and Leona when you two were little

Knocking on Leona’s room softly then creaking it open, you peek your head inside to see him lying on the bed on his side with his back facing you

“Leona.”

“Leona?”

“Leooona.”

“Leeeeeeonaaaaaa.”

“LEONA WAKE THE FUCK UP.”

“FUCK-“

He winces and jolted up after you slapped his arm

Snaps and growls at you, rubbing the spot where you attacked earlier

He was all grumpy and upset until you tell him you rejected the marriage

Stares at you for a good ten seconds before sighing, slowly resting his forehead on your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you

You two have had naps together, held hands when you were little but have never been this physically close after you two grew up, you two are the best of friends but there are boundaries as friends, so this was new to you, naturally, your cheeks bursted in all shades of red

“I’m glad...” you can hear him mumble, placing a hand on his soft hair and patting it before give it a stroke, calming him down

— AS STUDENTS IN NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE

You teases him so fucking much about being a dorm leader, like- how??? He’s just so lazy and unmotivated to do anything that you’re impressed

Surprisingly takes very good care of you both as a friend and a senior, it was surprising for the Savanaclaw dorm members to see Leona actually giving fucks about someone, a freshman no less, so they got interested in you very quickly

Which resulted in Leona scaring them away because they’re too close for his liking

He always suggests you to take naps and laze around with him though, so it’s no good since you have to get good grades

You’re the one who’s always dragging him to classes (if you’re lucky to get him to move)

You two never bothered to tell anyone that you’re childhood friends, it didn’t seem to have the need to

So everyone thought you two were dating because of how close you are 💀

Definitely got jealous at how you made new friends

He doesn’t mind if you have new friends, it’s natural, it’s only concerning if you don’t have any

But if you’re spending more time with them than with him? Best know that he’d trap you in his room and never let you go out

This won’t stop until you figure out why he’s like this and promise him he’ll stay as number one in your friendship list

You really shouldn’t be but you’re still laughing at how he’s repeating school years to this day

But you’re also kind of glad that he’s still here with you, it’d be boring if he weren’t

Plus, Leona wouldn’t leave you here alone anyway, there’s too many people he can’t trust and he just generally don’t wanna leave you alone

The confession was surprisingly normal and quick, no stutters or nervous twiddles of fingers from him

He kinda just, got tired of you being so physically close and attached to everyone else that he want to call you his and his only

He’s the type that’d suddenly pin you down on his bed while you’re talking about what you and your other friends did that day

Enjoys the deep blush and lip quiver on you as he finally confesses his feelings for you, leaning down onto your ear and whisper huskily about-

His arms quickly wrapped around his stomach and coughs as your strong kick jerked him back, he ended up kneeling on his bed, hunched over as he groans

He thought he invaded your privacy and made you uncomfortable so he quickly look up to check up on you, afraid of the terrified and disgusted look on your face, but what greeted him was a hot, hot face as you refuse to look him in the eye

He stared, and stared, a small blush slowly coming up to his own cheeks before a pillow was thrown at his face

Seeing you so flustered reminded him of the past few days when he debated with himself whether he should go for it or not, he might seem smug for now, but before this cocky smirk appeared he was a nervous wreck

So the two of you kinda just stayed like that in his room, freezing on your spot with dead silence

“A-At least give me an answer...damn it.” A miracle that he stuttered

He watches as you fiddled with your finger, looking down with mumbles he couldn’t make words out from

“I...I like you too.”

This is so lame, you two are like middle school kids confessing your love for each other and yet, those simple words made his heart flip like crazy

Now that he’s confirmed your answer, prepare for a wild but sweet kiss from him

— AS LOVERS

It was a little bumpy at first, mostly from you though, because you’re just so used to being “just friends” with him that you don’t know how to act as his lover

He didn’t change much, maybe a little bit sweeter and considerate than before but he’s just the old Leona you know, which you’re glad for, you didn’t want him to change

He’s more protective now since you’re finally his, and he made sure to let everyone know that

Doesn’t really have a say on PDA, he’s fine with or without it, but he would definitely shove his tongue into your mouth right on the spot if someone even dare to look at you in the wrong way

Really likes wrapping an arm around your waist and put his whole weight on you because he’s lazy and tired of walking

Will actually fall on you when you’re in the botanical garden so that you couldn’t get up and is forced to take a nap with him

Play with his hair!! He loves it to death, though he might grumble and say he doesn’t, we all know he’s lying

You have to reassure him that he’ll always be your number one, he’s already suffered enough, if you end up leaving him he doesn’t know how to cope with it

Cuddles, cuddles and cuddles 24/7, he will not let you go

He sometimes just stares at you as you talk or do your own thing and think about how lucky he is to have you, it might not seem possible but literal hearts appeared in his eyes

If you ever catch him staring at you and tease him for it he’ll growl and pounce on you, how dare you make fun of your king like that? Prepare for a punishment my friend ;)

[faustonastring]

hi there! if it's not too trouble, could you do the main six reacting to an mc who's famous? (like a famous actor or the leader of a famous band)

Thanks for requesting! This is gonna be a modern au just to make things easier, also to make things more easier let’s just say they’re hella famous. Like Beyoncé famous.

Merry belated Christmas. I wrote this months ago but it was just chilling in my drafts so enjoy

Main six with a famous Mc (modern Au)

Asra

Asra strikes me as the type who doesn’t really give a flying fuck about celebrities, and only knows about them from Stan twitter. He also watches keeping up with the kardashians with Nadia, lucio, and Portia. Chances are he only knows who you are because you were trending on twitter for some reason

He’s super photogenic and looks good in every paparazzi photo. He’s also good at ignoring the paparazzi, especially if they catch you when your having a bad day. He won’t give into petty gossip, he’ll pull you down into an alleyway or a store, until they leave or your Uber gets there.

His red carpet outfits are fire. Sometimes they look better than yours, it’s not that he means to, he honestly just wears what ever they put him in, but it’s usually.....weird. And he some how, makes it work, which is why everyone loves it

Nadia

She could care less about celebrities. Lucio can bitch to her all day about scandals a celebrity recently got involved in, or who said the n-word today, but she honestly could care less. The only celebrities she ‘keeps up with’ are the kardashians. (Lucio made her watch an episode once, she hated it, but stayed for kris)

She hates the paparazzi. She tries to avoid them with you as often as possible, and only leaves the house in a full face of makeup. No exceptions. (She’ll be damned if the paparazzi caught her slipping) and she ignores them all the time. No exceptions.

Her red carpets outfits are always polished and expensive. Pants suits, fancy dresses, suits, fancy hair, she can make anything look, but what looks best on her are outfits that don’t have a lot going on, simple, fancy things.

Julian

Grandma Julian devorak doesn’t know how to use twitter, and he only listens to twenty minute jazz tracks and Michael bublé. He ain’t going to know who you are, unless your in a movie, or multiple movies, then he’ll recognize you, but it will take him weeks to figure out from where.

He’s the second worst with paparazzi. He will make himself late for work gossiping with paparazzi. It doesn’t just end with work, dates, flights, meetings, if the paparazzi gets him, he’ll be stuck there talking for hours. He doesn’t mind the paparazzi, and he most definitely doesn’t talk with them for so long because he likes them, he just likes to gossip, and talk.

His red carpet outfits started out being all/mostly black, and it kind of became his trademark so he has no choice but to run with it now. Not that he minds, he likes the color black, he just wish he knew it was his trademark sooner. (He wore a red suit once and his stans rioted)

Portia

She knows who you are and does a shitty job hiding it. She just gets excited and giddy when she’s around famous people, even if she’s not a fan of you, they just make her anxious, but in a good(ish) way. She really wants to impress you.

She’s the third worst with paparazzi (we all know who’s the worst) if she’s in a hurry she won’t stay to talk for long, but if she’s not doing anything important she’ll stay and talk for a little longer. She has a weak spot for being interviewed. And they always catch her off guard.

Her red carpet outfits are usually very casual and cottage core(ish) and she has most definitely wore the strawberry dress from twitter atleast once. Sometimes she gets criticized for her outfits but she tries to let it roll off of her back because even if they’re not the fanciest things, she’s happy and you’re happy so that’s all that should matter.

Muriel

He’s more clueless than Julian. The man doesn’t have WiFi, and doesn’t plan on getting it anytime soon. Hell I wouldn’t even be surprised if he still has a flip phone, like who’s he gonna call? (Asra maybe, or maybe Nadia) he’s the most clueless

Hates paparazzi with a burning passion. He doesn’t like crowds, or people talking to him. Especially strangers asking him a shit load of questions, especially if those questions regard you or your relationship. That’s none of their business. He ignores and glares at them if they get to pushy, so hopefully they learn they’re lesson

His red carpet outfits are usually very neutral. Greens and browns, maybe a blue here and there. He tries to avoid red carpets as much as possible but he’ll still go to award shows with you, especially if your nominated. (He’s also you biggest cheerleader when you win)

Lucio

Oh my god he’s a mess. Like no literally he’s the worst one. He knows shit about literally every celebrity and he even some how has dirt on some of them. And what’s even more surprising is he has a (growing) mental list of all the celebrities he hooked up with. He’s very loud and....excited when he meets you for the first time.

Loves paparazzi. He’s the worst one. He’ll shit talk the whole music industry or the whole film industry within the first week they started hunting him down. He has no filter and has gotten some pretty big names canceled, he’s also pretty bad about leaking stuff for your new project.

His red carpet outfits are.....red. Red on red on red, with a touch of gold and some white to clean it up a little bit. They’re tacky. So tacky. He’s been the laughing stock of some award shows for his over the top tacky outfits but he could give less fucks. He’s happy, he’s sexy, and he’s strutting in his seven inch heals down the red carpet.

I don’t think this is exactly what you wanted, but hopefully it’s close!

Master list

Request are closed

[untitledtheunknown]

If you could have written Kerry in 2077, how would you have done it? Characterization, quests, whatever you're willing to share. 👀💘

Okay so wanna say first I do enjoy Kerry’s quests, I just wish they were longer that’s my main gripe with things overall. I am willing to accept what they’ve done, I just want more of him because well its him. I’m also no game dev or writer, I write fics and come up with OCs, we make game campaigns based on what exists already. I can’t say I understand or know why certain things get put in and other things get cut so there’s that. 

My biggest issue is the giant gap in Kerry’s timeline, went from 2023, Memphis concert in the 40s, to 2077. Some huge ass breaks in his timeline with no real reason why, and I can’t use things from the table top because 2077 doesn’t follow that timeline either. Samurai broke up in 2007, Kerry had a quite successful solo career from the get go, and in 2077 seems like none of that happened until much later on. He was writing Second Conflict with Johnny in the table top so it seems weird that its put out as this new album when he was talking about it back in 2013. I dunno its a whole thing. 

What I would have done differently is much of what I already said in the previous post. My main thing is I don’t like how from get go he still seems 100% hung up on and obsessed with his image to Johnny’s. Like I understand from the outside looking in, tabloids and what not making that comparison to rip into him, but that’s not Kerry. Its not him. Without a doubt I wouldn’t put it past Ker to want to do one last gig, so all that could stay the same, but I feel like they could have done a much better job explaining where Kerry was mentally. Because when you read into it you see its not just about Johnny, that’s the surface, but it happens so quick its easy to miss when you’re caught in the stare with those blue eyes. This also in hand goes for River where they kinda got screwed out being able to naturally develop. The sauce is there, but its being eaten too quick, where as Panam and Judy have the main story quests to break things down and have things develop more naturally. 

Quest wise I would have thrown another 1 or 2 quests in around the end. Maybe 1 more before the rooftop at Dark Matter, and another before Boat Drinks. They don’t have to be long quests, but something to allow more discussion, allow those feelings to kinda come in and show that there’s something more there. Because up to the rooftop scene Kerry is a flirt in some aspects, but that’s also just who he is, the romance gets packed on heavy and he’s confessing a lot really quick when its like a day ago V was just a wingman to arson and gunpoint demands. To me at least that’s a massive flip of what the hell, from both V and Kerry. So feel like shoving another quest in there to smooth things out, make the flirting a bit more obvious of hey something might be going on and allow that hesitant opening before a big confession later on would have just smoothed it out. Feel this would have also helped a shit ton with why he’s only attracted to male V. They could have built something out into that to make it more apparent instead of the shit show that was the twitter incident of “he only likes V for Johnny” and blow up that happens in his tag every month. Naturally developed romance scenarios can help a lot with preventing those kinda things. Takes the guess work out of it a bit, just saying.  

Other thing, I hate the new ex-wife and kids story. I don’t know why they changed it, I was hoping Kelvy was going to be in 2077. Kerry aint out here winning any dad of the year awards, but from what I took in he was a pretty decent dad to Kelvy. The only thing I can thing of why they tossed that whole thing out was because again they fucked over his timeline. Kerry got married early 20′s and Kelvy was born awhile before the actual marriage. But she proudly used to name Eurodyne, she loved referring to herself as Kerry’s daughter. She was famous in her own right as a media, had her own show and net presence. I can only think she got scrubbed because the game she was in (v3 2020) wasn’t that popular, and again the timeline wouldn’t work for what we see. But I don’t get why they changed it to an aggressively failed marriage and him not wanting to be with his much younger children. I get why in how he is at that point in his life, but from the actual writing I don’t get why that was a better choice than just changing Kelvy’s age. Hell could of had her be a whole quest of rekindling a dying flame with her dad and finding out more of what happened. If anyone would have known some better insight, it would have been her. 

Overall I think there’s good bones for Kerry’s stuff, I just wish it was more finetuned. Things did get cut, and feel like there’s a lot more missing than what we have found. As both a bias and a logical point he should have had another quest or two within his main run to allow things to develop a bit more naturally. I don’t mind him being at the end of the game but it does feel like he’s a ghost until then. My first playthrough I actually started to doubt he really was in the game until Johnny said “Hey lets go see Kerry” and I was just that motherfucker IS IN HERE OKAY. I also do feel that the stuff regarding his depression and attempted suicide could have been handled a bit better instead of getting swept away. This goes in hand with him probably needing another quest to just allow breathing room, but on the rooftop he is talking about some seriously heavy stuff and I swear to god if I have to hear that show saying “Rumors of Kerry’s depression was just noisy chatter” one more time Imma lose it. I don’t need details of what’s going on, but just something that its real. It wasn’t just a fad or a fake out. But because everything with him ends so suddenly and you get a drop of more in the endings and credits its just hard to accept that’s all we got. 

I dunno, basically less about Johnny in the beginning. More quest time. Give him his daughter back you cowards. 

[wiypt-writes]

Leave No One Behind

Ch9: Doctor’s Orders Part 3 Co written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

Episode Summary: Hannah has a cold and of course Ari takes it upon himself to look after her. Once that little obstacle is out of the way trouble finds them once again on the morning of her birthday…and hell breaks loose at the Red Sea Diving Resort.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Smut (NSFW no under18s)

Episode Pairings:  Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Leave No One Behind Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 2

 Once the diving tours and usual chores were done for the morning, the team gathered together again at lunch time. The aftermath of Ari and Sammy's fight still lingered but they had been avoiding one another like the plague all morning and as such, lunch was as civil as it could.

"So what’s in store for the afternoon, Red, seeing as you have an honorary getting old day off…" Jake asked as they finished lunch.

"Still younger than you Loop, in fact any of you round this table so…" she said, waving her hand at the rest of them.

There were a few mumbled groans about her being the baby of the group, and Max threw a breadstick at her which landed on the floor much to Simon’s delight. Rachel then appeared and nodded to Ari, telling him she had finished setting up what he had asked her to, and he smiled at her before he cleared his throat  "Actually I need Hannah to help me with something this afternoon." 

He cursed internally, rolling his eyes at himself, when he realised what he had just said. His words eliciting sniggers and oooooooohs from everyone around the table. Well, bar from Sammy of course, who was glaring at him and Hannah who was looking at him with curiosity.

"Want me to babysit Simon? You know, wouldn’t want the poor pooch to end up more scarred than he is." Max obviously wasn't letting the opportunity to tease pass him by.

Ari rolled his eyes. "It’s nothing like that, get your minds out of the gutter."

"Yeah, you know…" Jake agreed, eyeing Simon up. "I really shouldn’t wear shorts around him."

"You’d get tan lines then Loop." Hannah quipped.

Max sniggered. "He’ll be putting matches between his toes next and walking like a penguin."

That image of Jake sent everyone bursting with laughter and Jake shrugged. "Suppose I should be flattered I’m the fuckable uncle."

"Better than the grumpy one." Hannah deadpanned as she stuck her tongue out at Sammy who rolled his eyes, a flicker of a smile on his face.

"I think we all know I’m his favourite uncle…the food one." Max grinned with satisfaction.

Ari was listening to the conversation, checking his watch. He was anxious as the next part of his plan was set to commence in 10 and he needed to do something first but, at the same time, he was also glad the nonsense they were all talking had diverted Hannah's attention so that she wasn’t trying to guess what he was up to. Hoping there weren't any more setbacks for the day after Sammygate, he tapped her on the arm, grabbing her attention.

"Come on."

She looked at him, shrugged and stood up. She was even more curious now but decided to just roll with it.

Ari turned to Max. "Watch Si for us, will you?" 

Hannah looked at him amused, now he was talking as if he was a concerned parent who needed his kid looked after while he was busy.

Sammy glared at Ari. "Seriously..."

Hannah turned to her brother sharply, her hands on her hips. "Stop. Now."

Sammy groaned and sat back in his chair, clearly sulking. But Ari couldn't be bothered dealing with him, Rachel would have to cope with his petulance. He simply took Hannah’s hand and led her out of the room and down the beach towards her hut.

"You taking me to my hut, lobo?"

Ari chuckled. "Yup. But not for what you think though."

"Bummer." 

Ari laughed at that and looked at her. "Later sweetheart. We got all night and all morning now everyone knows."

She stopped and turned to face him, smiling. "I know the way it happened wasn’t ideal but…I’m not gonna lie. I’m so relieved."

"Me too." He smiled back at her and leaned down to place a lingering peck on her mouth that he had to break as a few cat calls erupted from a group of teenage boys on the beach. Hannah sniggered as Ari tossed them a sarcastic wave.

"Feels good to be able to just do that." she sighed contented.

"Damned straight." he agreed before resuming the walk to the hut. "You know Max made a good point before?"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He said us being together is an even better cover. I mean think about it. A couple making a go of a hotel here together is much less suspect than some random, single, white man in his late 30s doing it alone." he explained.

"Oh, so that’s why you’re with me?" she teased him.

Ari nodded. "Yeah, can’t think of a single other reason. In fact, I’ve been plotting this whole thing since the night of your 21st."

"Oh, I see, so seducing me was part of some huge plan was it?"

Ari raised an eyebrow at her.  "Seducing you? Now, you know that’s not exactly true Firefly."

 "I was an innocent little wallflower until you corrupted me." she retorted as they stopped at her hut door.

"Bullshit." 

Ari opened the door for her to step inside and she followed. He waited to speak till he had closed the door behind him "Now open the first drawer in your nightstand."

"You’re so bossy." she rolled her eyes.

"Don’t pretend like you don’t like it, wallflower." 

At that Hannah gave a full on laugh causing Ari to grin as she headed to her nightstand and then paused and turned to look at him, squinting her eyes in the process. "Why do you want me to open my panties drawer?"

Ari hesitated, mentally cursing Rachel as she had earlier told him that was where she would leave his present. Think, Levinson. He looked at Hannah before he grinned cheekily.

"Because I bought you a vibrator. Isn’t that were you’re supposed to keep them?"

Hannah blinked for a second or two and then laughed heartily.  "Well, I hope it runs on batteries, not like I can charge it in reception, is it?"

Ari pondered for a moment. "I dunno, be amusing to see Sammy’s face."

"He’d go into cardiac arrest. And that’s not funny…"  Ari rolled his eye, he was done joking. "Just open the damned drawer Hannah."

"Eager much are we, lobo?"

Ari took a deep breath, she was pushing too far, and dropped his voice. "You know you’re paying for this tonight firefly."

"Oh no…" her voice sounded as sarcastic as it could be. "Please don’t threaten me with wild sex Ari…"

"You’re gonna beg for it, believe me…" he said, his voice a low growl which went straight to her core and her reaction didn’t pass him by. He smirked. "Now, open the drawer." Ari held his breath as Hannah finally did as she was told and found a little package nestled in amongst her underwear, wrapped in light blue crepe paper. She frowned and pulled it out before turning to look at Ari whose face was impassive but she could tell from the way he licked his lips, he was nervous.

"Ari, what…"

"Open it and see." He insisted.

She didn't hesitate and opened it as anticipation was killing her and she gave a little gasp as she took the silver and amber firefly pendant in the palm of her hand. She fell speechless. Ari saw her gape but nothing came out and then she looked at him, finally finding her voice. 

"It’s a firefly, Ari." she said so softly he almost missed it.

Ari laughed softly. "I know that. Why do you think I bought it?" Hannah looked at him, her eyes sparkling, and he smiled. "I saw that in Port Sudan when we went that time, we weren’t even together back then… nor was I dreaming we ever would be."

"That’s…that’s why you didn’t take me the last time? Because you wanted to buy this for me? I thought…"

Ari cut her off. "I know what you thought, and I hated making you upset but…"

She looked at him again, then to the necklace. "Can you…" she asked as she handed it to him and turned around, pulling her pony tail out of the way. Ari moved to drape it round her neck, fastening the clasp at the back. 

"You know, it shines in the dark too, just like my firefly."

She reached up to grab the pendant, tipping her head round to look at him with tears in her eyes and he smiled, steering her to the mirror. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, his chin resting on her shoulder as she looked at the necklace in the mirror. He placed a soft kiss to the crook of her shoulder, straightening up. 

 "I love it." she said, her eyes locked onto his in the mirror and he swallowed. 

Fuck it. He loved her, he damned well loved her and he should have told her 9 fucking years ago. So he took a deep breath and before he could chicken out he spoke, his voice soft but clear. 

"I love you, Hannah."

Her breath caught and she turned slowly in his arms to look at him, silent tears escaping her eyes as she cupped his face with her hands.

"You don’t need to say it back, not yet, I just…" 

Ari was dying to lean in her touch but she had fallen silent and he didn't want to push her into doing something she didn't want or feel. So he stayed put, letting his eyes do all the work for him.

"But I do. I do. I love you, Ari.” her voice was gentle, and Ari felt his chest doing flips as a huge grin spreads across his face. He leaned down, his mouth slanting on hers in a deep kiss that left them both breathless when he pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers.

"I should have told you that years ago."

"Better late than never." she whispered, her lips grazing his.

Late. That word made him remember something. Shit!

"Yeah, hold that thought sweetheart." he said as he pulled away from her and his arms fell to his sides.

"What?" she frowned.

"Trust me. I got a surprise for you." He brushed his hair out of his face with his fingers and smiled at her.

"Another one?"

Ari nodded and turned his eyes to the bed and Hannah for the first time saw one of their radio transmitters. She couldn't believe she had been far too wrapped up in Ari to pay any attention and notice the equipment on her bedspread.

"Was that there all this time?" she looked at him.

"Yup. And we’re late so…" Ari bent over and hit a button.  "Team leader to base."

There were some static crackles and a few seconds later, Ethan’s voice rang out. "Base receiving, we are secure."  There was a pause and then Ethan spoke again. "See you are as punctual as ever Ari.”

"Sorry, we got a little side-tracked…" Ari grinned at Hannah.

"Sure you did.” Ethan said sardonically “Congratulations Hannah, I hope you’re having a great day…"

Hannah was grinning ear to ear at the sound of the man’s voice. "Thanks Ethan, it’s been great. I’ve been spoilt and…it’s just been amazing…" she explained as she smiled at Ari while she sat down on the bed. Ari's stood beside her, his hand gently between her shoulder blades, his thumb skating the back of her neck.

"Glad to hear it, and I have someone here with me who is going to make it even better."

"What do you mean?" 

She looked at Ari who shrugged. There was a bit of rustling at the other end and then a voice spoke, a familiar voice which made Hannah’s hand fly to her mouth in shock, tears instantly filling her eyes.

"Hannah, are you there sweetheart?"

Hannah took a deep breath, her voice shaking with emotion. "Yeah, I’m here mama…"

"Don’t cry honey…”

"I’m sorry mama, I’m just so happy to hear your voice” she sniffed, “I miss you so much!"

"I miss you too my little girl, but you’ll be home for a visit soon, right? Feliz Cumpleaños, mi niña"

Hannah nodded, wiping her tears which were now falling uncontrollably at the sound of her mother wishing her a happy birthday in Spanish. "In a few weeks, yeah."

Ari bent down and kissed her cheek, whispering. "Let me go find Sammy."

Hannah smiled, knowing full well Sammy would want to speak to their mama too.

Ari left, giving Hannah and her mother some privacy and wandered down to the main building.��Sammy was surprised when Ari came out of the blue into the reception area looking for him but was even more shocked when he explained him what was going on. He blinked and looked at Rachel who smiled and nodded. Wordlessly, he followed Ari to Hannah’s hut. Sammy went in and spoke to the radio and Ari heard Mama Navon’s exclamation as the 3 of them then began to furiously jabber away in a mixture of English and Spanish. 

He waited outside the door, for 20 minutes or so, sitting on the sand just watching the waves and smoking. He smiled as Simon trotted over, apparently having dodged Max again, and flopped down next to him.

"You shake off Uncle Max buddy?" he asked the dog as he scratched his ear. 

He heard Hannah calling so he stood up and went in, Simon following suit and jumped up on the bed, ignoring Sammy as he stood there wagging his tail which repeatedly hit him in the face. Ari chuckled as Sammy stood up before he greeted Mama Navon who thanked him for setting the call up and then told them all to stay safe. After a quick goodbye they ended the call and Hannah looked at him as she stood up.

"Thank you. Thank you so much." she said as she hugged him tight.

"I told you, anything for you firefly." he spoke, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her head. 

Sammy took a deep breath, looking away as he too composed himself from speaking to his mama. He then cleared his throat. "Hannah, can you give me a moment with Ari?" She pulled away from Ari and looked at him narrowing her eyes as he shook his head gently. "I promise I’m not gonna punch him again."

Hannah then looked at Ari who nodded. She turned to leave, but not before she pointed at Sammy. "You best not break your promise, or I’ll break your face Samuel." And with that she left, whistling to Simon who followed her, closing the door behind her as she went.

Sammy tore his eyes from the door to look at Ari and took a moment to assess him before he finally spoke.  "Listen, Ari…what you did for her there, with the call, it was just.."

Ari shrugged. He got what Sammy was trying to express but couldn't find the words to and decided throw him a bone. "Well I know she misses home so…"

Sammy shook his head. "We all miss home, Ari."  he sighed. "But that was…” he trailed off. “Look, sorry I punched you in the face."

"Call that a punch?" Ari snorted.

Sammy narrowed his eyes at him. "Don’t temp me."

Ari held his hands up. "Wouldn’t dream of it."

He gave Sammy a sincere smile. He was confident the call from their mother had done more to help his cause than all the words and apologies in the world could have done. Sammy looked for a moment like he was about to say something else but he didn’t, instead he nodded before turning and leaving.

****

Later that evening, Ari headed down to the dining area to find everyone, bar Rachel and Hannah already there. He knew that Rachel had been doing Hannah’s hair for her so he wasn’t surprised they were still absent. He nodded to Max and Jake, flashing a tentative smile at Sammy who returned it with a jerk of his head, and he walked through to the kitchen to grab a beer. He returned the dining room, settled himself in a seat and was watching a couple of guests settle at a table a few down when he heard Max give a low whistle. “Damned Girl!

Ari looked round and almost choked on his drink at Hannah’s appearance. She was wearing the outfit her mama sent her. The white crochet top was cropped, and fairly low cut, leaving not much to the imagination (not that he needed to imagine it) and the high wasted matching skirt finished mid-thigh. On her feet she wore a pair of flat, gold gladiator sandals that twisted up her legs to her knees. Her hair was cascading down her back in dark, silky curls, the top half of which had been twisted away from her face and fastened into some kind of loose braid. Her make-up was light, as always, but the subtle burnt gold she’d shaded over her eyelids made her blue eyes pop even more. She looked stunning.

God, was it hot in here or just him…

Max meanwhile was stood to the side of the room, watching Ari, whose mouth was hanging open. He nudged Jake who in turn glanced at the positively gawping man at the table and grinned.

“Radio base…Team Leader is unresponsive.” Max sniggered and Jake let out a groan.

“Man, and to think I was chasing after her myself when all the time…” he shook his head “I’ve been an idiot haven’t I?” Max gave a nod “Yes, you have.”

“That’s what I thought.” Jake confirmed, watching as Hannah approached the table.

“You never stood a chance pal.” Max patted his shoulder sympathetically “Not with Ari here anyway, they have history, you know that.” Jake sighed as they too made their way to the table. As they passed a group of tourists, one of the girls made a deal of looking Jake up and down before winking at him. He grinned at her, nodding, all the time keeping his eyes on hers as they passed. Max gave a snort.

“Can’t keep a good man down for long…” Jake smirked.

“There’s nothing good about you, you’re a dirt bag.” Max rolled his eyes.

As they got to the table, Sammy was complaining about Hannah’s outfit. “Seriously? Mama made that? Hannah, I can see-“

“Don’t you dare say it…” she glared at him. Sammy simply rolled his eyes as she moved to take her seat at the table, before he turned to say something to Rachel. Ari took his chance and dropped a soft kiss to her lips as she settled next to him.

“You look beautiful.” He smiled, and her cheeks flushed shyly.

“Thanks.” She looked at him, taking in his light blue button down. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Lobo.”

They ate a dinner of seabass, Hannah’s favourite, engaging in pleasant talk and a few drinks before Max stood up and loudly announced to the guests that there was a gathering planned on the beach with some music to celebrate Rosa’s birthday. After a few more drinks they migrated to the area on the sand which had been set up, the boys all carrying cool-boxes full of beer and spirits down with them. Drinks where handed out and over the next hour or so the group sat, Jake integrating himself with the girls he’d noticed at dinner. At some point Sammy’s guitar made an appearance and he provided the music for the group as Hannah sat on Ari’s knee as he perched on the wooden logs which were being used as seats.

Whilst everyone was clear that they were an item now, they still didn’t want to flaunt the PDAs too much, but the more alcohol they consumed, the less of a shit either of them gave. Soft stolen kisses became more frequent, Ari’s hand gently skated her bare thigh in a not-so-subtle way that was easily noticeable to anyone watching. When Jake and Max declared loudly that enough was enough of the strangled cat routine Sammy was giving (earning them the bird in response) the stereo kicked in and Sammy placed his guitar down, his eyes straying to his sister and Ari. They were both talking to one of the guests, Ari’s hand looped around Hannah’s hip as she perched on his lap, her own arm draped around his neck, the plastic cup full of gin and lemonade hanging in her hand.

Sammy placed his guitar down, took a deep breath and looked away. Rachel, not missing the look on his face gave him a dig with her elbow. “I thought you’d made your peace.”

“I apologised for punching him.” Sammy turned to look at her “Still doesn’t mean I’m happy about them. And I certainly don’ want to see it.”

“Sammy, look how happy she is, how happy they both are.” Rachel corrected herself. “Have you ever seen Ari like that?”

Sammy sighed, because he hasn’t, not even with Sarah. The fact was, Ari Levinson, or Guy Thomas as he was tonight, was behaving like a love sick teenager. The smile hadn’t left his face for a second.

“Exactly.” Rachel took Sammy’s lack of response as an answer. Her eyes strayed to Hannah, who tipped her head back in a loud laugh at something, and then she turned back to Sammy “Have you seen the necklace she’s wearing?” “Spotted it before.” Sammy replied “And now it’s glowing it’s kinda hard not to see it.”

“I was with Ari when he got it for her in Port Sudan, the day after he came back from his leave.” Rachel said simply and Sammy turned his head to look at her. “You should have seen his face when the guy explained the firefly glowed in the dark. He told me he’d spotted it weeks ago and had to come back to get it for her birthday…”

“Ok, I get it Rachel.” Sammy rolled his eyes “Look, I’m happy she’s happy and I guess, I’m glad Ari is too, I just…” he signed and shook his head “Forget it, it clearly doesn’t matter what I think.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.” Rachel shrugged “But if you can’t learn to live with whatever is bugging you about it all so much, then they’re gonna learn to live without you.”

“Well then, guess I don’t have much of a choice then huh?”

Before Rachel could reply, the brash tones of In The Navy rang out of the speakers. Jake stood to attention, saluting Max who flipped him off and Ari shook his head, he drew the line at this musical abomination. Hannah pouted a little as he stood, jolting her from his lap but he simply gave her a kiss and told her he was heading off for a drink. When she declined his offer of a top up, he strode away from the group who were now marching on the spot, a few of the girls from the guest groups having joined in. Simon was also doing his best to remain part of the festivities, jumping around and barking.

Ari gave a chuckle at the dog’s antics and opened the lid to the cool box which was set a little further back from where they’d set up camp for the evening.

“Can you pass me one?”  

Ari jerked his head up to look at Sammy, before he gave a nod, grabbing 2 bottles from the box. He popped the lids on both, tossing the opener back down and handed it over.

“Thanks.” Sammy took it from him, taking a long pull.

They stood in silence for a while, Ari knowing Sammy well enough to know that he was currently contemplating how to say what he clearly wanted to. And, sure enough, after a moment or too he heard his friend give a heavy sigh as he turned to him and spoke.

“Look, I’m not ok about any of this but well, Hannah, she deserves to be happy and for whatever fucking reason you seem to do that for her so…” Sammy shrugged “But Ari, I am warning you, you hurt her and I will kill you.”

It was Ari’s turn to sigh “Sammy why do you always have to think the worst of me? Yeah I fucked up with her in the past but let’s not forget, not all of that was my fault.”

“Look, man.” Sammy shook his head “I gave the same warning to Andy ok. I can honestly say it isn’t personal this time.”

At that Ari cocked his head, looking at him. He knew that this was Sammy’s way of giving him and Hannah a very grudging go-ahead. Not a blessing as such, but still, it was better than open hostility. Ari’s hands fell to his hips and he looked down at his feet before he raised his eyes to look at Sammy, a small smile playing on his face.

“You know when it comes to it, I hope Rachel’s brother hates your guts too.”

“Rachel? I…what…why do you…” Sammy furiously blushed as he stumbled over his words. Ari said nothing, merely raised an eyebrow and Sammy shook his head, snorting “Guess you know too huh?”

“Hannah told me she suspected it a while back.” He nodded.

“She always has been a pain in my ass.” He grumbled.

“Yeah, well, I don’t think that’s ever gonna change.” Ari smirked, his eyes glancing back over at his girl, where she was still dancing.

“Probably not.” Sammy took a deep breath, “You know, for the record, I don’t hate you Ari…I love you man, and I love my sister.”

“So do I.” Ari looked at him, “And I don’t ever want to hurt her again.”

At Ari’s words, Sammy took a deep breath. Love…ok, that was a little unexpected. But as he stared back at Ari, there wasn’t a shred of insincerity on the man’s face. He gave Ari a small nod, and turned back to watch the group as the opening bars to YMCA rang out over the night air, along with Jake’s loud shouting. As the two men watched, he and Max jumped up onto the over turned logs, launching into the dance routine.

“Which one is the cowboy?” Sammy asked and Ari snorted.

“Max.” he concluded after a little pause. The two men shared a grin and Sammy slapped Ari’s back.

That was the point Ari knew that it was going to be ok. Not wanting to make too big a deal of it, he smiled and then changed the subject.

“Do you remember that time we were singing to Rod Stewart, Do You Think I’m Sexy in that car in the middle of New York?”

“Jesus…” Sammy half-chuckled, half-groaned. “You know I try not to think about that a lot. The windows to the car were wide open…”

“Yeah, and those girls walking past just stopped and stared at us like we were 2 crazy bastards.”

“You are a crazy bastard.” Sammy teased and Ari gave a little nod, conceding the point playfully.

As they stood, still watching, Hannah and Rachel were pulled up onto the log by Max and Jake and Sammy shook his head, chuckling.“You think we should rescue our girls from those two idiots?”

Ari paused, the use of the term registering in his brain. He grinned and looked at Sammy “So you’re there already? Calling her your girl?”

“Piss off you cocky bastard”

Ari snorted and turned back to the dancing in front of them “Nah, leave them, they’re having fun. Besides, they can handle themselves.”

This remained Ari’s sentiment until YMCA finished, and Hungry Like the Wolf started to play. He watched, the 4 of them step down off the bench as the beat started, and then Jake  looked like he was having a little too much fun with Hannah, his hands on her hips from behind as she swayed side to side.

Ari stiffened slightly and Sammy, not missing a thing spoke, his tone amused. “Want me to hold your beer?” Ari turned to give him a look before he thrust the bottle at Sammy and pushed through the group of dancers. When he reached the two of them he tapped Jake on the shoulder. “Do you mind if i…”

Jake raised his hands. “Sure man I’m gonna…ummmm….just go.”

Ari watched him leave before he turned to Hannah, fingers curling around her hips as his lips pecked her neck.

“Didn’t think it would take long before you showed up.” She quipped, tilting her head to look at him.

“Yeah, well, I don’t like him touching what belongs to me.”

 Hannah chuckled “You’re such a possessive bastard.”

Ari hummed in response as Hannah reached down, grabbed his hand and tugged him towards where Rachel and Max were dancing. He protested at first but then, for the first time in God knows how long just let himself go. He danced along, grinning as Max started doing some furious type of dance thrusting his shoulders inwards and be arched an eyebrow as they were joined by Sammy too. Hannah watched him carefully for a moment but he simply flashed her a huge grin which she reciprocated and continued her dancing. Ari spun her around, and she giggled, stumbling a little until he reached out and caught her, his own chuckles being drowned out by the music.

The group of agents remained on the beach in the middle of the temporary sort of dance floor, under the large wooden archway which was decorated with fairy lights, simply dancing and laughing for another few songs until the music slowed down and the opening notes of Your Song drifted across the sea breeze. Ari grinned as Hannah’s arms slid up his chest stopping on his shoulders, his hands falling to her hips as they gently moved their bodies a little closer than they had been. Ari leaned down and placed a soft peck on Hannah’s lips, her hand gently stroking his neck, fingers lightly dancing over his skin. If he was Simon, his damned leg would have started to shake as every time she did that it felt like fucking heaven.

“I saw you talking to Sammy before. Everything ok?” she asked, her blue eyes bright as she glanced up at him.

“Yeah.” Ari said honestly “Yeah, I think it is.”

“Good.” Hannah beamed “Because I can’t stand the thought of you being at one another’s throats.” “It wasn’t really a thought I was relishing either.” Ari said, before he grinned wickedly as he bent a little closer to speak into her ear whilst he spun them both around a little to the music. “Although one I am relishing, however, is just exactly how I’m gonna make you beg like I promised before.”

His hands gently squeezed her hips and she felt his fingers softly bunching in the crochet material at the side of her skirt. “I didn’t realise you liked my outfit so much.” She spoke softly as his fingers continued to play with the item of clothing.

“I do.” He grinned back, “But as nice as it is, I’m looking forward to seeing you with nothing but that necklace on Firefly.”

“Yeah, well I gotta admit I’ll be glad to take it off. I mean, it’s pretty and everything but the top is a little uncomfortable…” at that she wriggled her hips and Ari gave a grunt as she pressed up against him, her pelvis almost flush to his. “Or maybe it’s the fact that I can’t wear a bra with it.”

Ari blinked, looked straight down at her cleavage, making no attempt to hide the fact that he was ogling at her before he glanced up at her to see her biting her lip.

And that was it, he was done.

“Ok.”  With a swoop he bent down and lifted her so she was over his shoulder causing her to give a squeal. He swatted at her ass as he turned and began to stride away from the group of party makers. There were loud whoops and cheers, above which Max’s trademark filthy chuckle could be heard and a low groan from Sammy.

Hannah planted her hands in the base of Ari’s back so she could push herself up slightly to wave at everyone. “See you tomorrow guys!”  she giggled as Ari strode away from the group and down the beach.

Hannah’s hut was nearer so that was the one he made a bee line for. He opened the door, made sure Simon was inside before he shut it with his foot and set her gently down on the floor.

“I suggest if you like that outfit you take it off pretty quickly before it ends up in pieces on the floor.” Ari looked down at Hannah, his hands grabbing her hips and pulling her towards him.

“Wait…” Her palms fell flat on his chest, before her fingers nimbly moved to the buttons on his shirt. “I wanna unwrap my last present.”

Ari arched an eyebrow at her but didn’t protest as she undid the buttons on his shirt, before she reached up and pushed it back over his shoulders, her hands smoothing down from his pecs to his defined, but not ripped abs, biting her lip as she took her time appreciating him. She glanced back up, her hands following her eyes before she reached up and pulled his head down to hers in a searing kiss. His lips locked on hers Ari trailed his hands up her sides, brushing the bare flesh that was on display from her short top before he grabbed the hem of it. She moved back, holding her arms up so he could pull it over her head and then his lips were back on hers, his large hands splayed on her back, pulling her chest flush to his.

He trailed open mouthed kisses across her jawline, finding that spot by her neck, giving a nip, all the time listening to the soft whimpers she was making in his ear as he backed her towards the bed and rather unceremoniously shoved her back onto it. She gave a soft giggle and started to move herself to the middle but in a flash he reached out and grabbed her ankle.

“Ah ah.” He said, as he dropped to his knees. “I told you, you were gonna beg for it sweetheart.”

She looked at him, propping herself up on her elbows, Ari groaning internally at the sight of her bare chest. His hands slid up her legs, finding the waistband of her skirt and in a single movement slid it down, along with her panties, leaving her bare on the bed before he unbuckled her sandals and slid those down over her calves.

Taking her left leg in his right hand he pressed a kiss to her ankle and continued his affections upwards, pressing small yet sloppy kisses all the way up until his nose was skimming along the apex of her thigh. She let out a groan of delight as she gently bent her other knee to allow him access and this time he couldn’t stop the soft moan which bubbled from his throat and he snuck one glance up at her, to see her head was already titled back in arousal. He reached up, and pushed on her shoulder, causing her to lay flat and then set his mouth on her.

There was nothing gentle about any of his movements, his tongue lashing at her, teasing her sensitive bud before poking deep into her, positively fucking her with his mouth. Her hips bucked upwards, pushing onto his face and he couldn’t help but smirk at how easy it was to draw the reactions he wanted from her. One of her hands reached into his hair, as he continued to eat her out with the ardour of a man starved. Her sweet, salty tang on his tongue set every nerve in his body on edge and the more he tasted the more he wanted. He felt her grip in his hair tighten, as her hips rotated slightly, seeking more friction and the relief that came with it, and as he felt her breathing begin to quicken he abruptly stopped, pulling back. Hannah stilled and gave a low whine as his fingers gripped at her hips, his mouth moving to the insides of her thighs, away from where she needed and wanted him most.

“Ari…” she began to protest and then his mouth was back on her again, edging her closer and closer to her orgasm until, a short while later as her breathing and gasps became ragged, he once more he pulled back.

“Ari, please?” her voice was broken plea, and he grinned, rising to his feet as he looked down at her.

“Told you, you were gonna beg Firefly…” he said, shedding his remaining clothing and freeing his now painfully hard cock.

“Don’t…” she looked at him, shifting slightly as he crawled over her. “Don’t be mean, it’s my birthday…”

“I’m well aware…” he muttered, his lips ghosting a path up her neck to her chin “This time 9 years ago I was kissing you outside a Club in Tel Aviv…”

He nipped at her neck and she keened underneath him, her body begging him for more, so needy and so ready for him. His tongue licked a line up her throat as his hands slid up her bare sides, calloused fingers ever so gentle over her ribs. His hands found hers and he pinned them to the bed either side of her head as his mouth moved down and his tongue flicked at her nipple as he took it between his lips, drawling a loud groan from her as her hips bucked involuntarily at the sensation. 

His lips caught hers in a deep, sloppy kiss, and he moved his hips and with a powerful thrust forward he sheathed himself inside her, causing her to wail into his mouth, her lips open against his. He started moving his hips, slowly, deliberately. Each thrust measured and powerful, his open mouth never once leaving hers as they panted together, sharing air. With every rock into her, moans of delight and pure pleasure flowed from her throat to his, every inch of their bodies pressed as close as they could get.

Ari plunged his tongue into her mouth and it was a hotwire straight to her belly and Hannah squeezed her hands around his, the tips of her nails digging into the skin just below his knuckles as she was completely overwhelmed by him and powerless to stop her body’s reactions.

“Let go…” she gently flexed her fingers. “Wanna feel you…”

Ari obliged and she moved her hands round his broad back, her fingers skating over the expanse of muscle and he gave a groan at her touch, his mouth straying back to her neck, his lips and beard gliding over her skin. Hannah turned her head, nudging his jaw with her nose and he raised her head, allowing her to reciprocate the affection, her mouth kissing at his neck and jaw line.

“I love you Ari…” she muttered, and he gave a low groan, rotating his hips as opposed to thrusting, causing her to cry out, her hands grasping at his shoulder blades.

“I love you Hannah…” he said, repeating the motion, well aware she was fast reaching the end, his lips crashing back to hers, chests gliding together, both of them covered in a light glisten of sweat. Ari’s hands gently cupped her face as he pushed into her as deep as he could go, his movements becoming slow and deep, rocking into her as opposed to thrusting, not wanting any inch of his body to be away from hers. “I love you so much baby girl…”

In contrast to his furious actions before, Hannah noticed the shift. Everything about his movements now screamed pure love and affection, and that drove her wild with her own love and lust and it wasn’t long at all before she felt the heat beginning to swell in her lower belly.

“Ari…Ari…” his name became a mantra, punctuated by her breathy moans and pants, her lips moving against his as she repeated her chant until the words died in her throat and her head tipped back in a silent cry.

“Fuck, Hannah…” Ari groaned as he felt her pulsing around him as she came, a strangled moan escaping her mouth and his lips became furious against hers, the kiss deep, his tongue wrapping onto hers as he picked up the pace slightly. His hips pushed forward deeply, and with another few sharp thrusts his rhythm stuttered and the world around him positively span as he came, hard, with a surge that he wasn’t quite sure he’d felt before. He stilled, deep inside her, before he gave a few shallow thrusts, riding his own orgasm out before he collapsed down on top of her, completely and utterly blissed out, the pair of them waiting for the world to right itself.

And for the first time since their reunion, Ari realised, that there was no goddamned rush. There was nothing to worry about, no concern about them falling asleep and sleeping in too late.

Nothing.

The revelation sparked something in his chest and he swallowed, pushing himself up slightly so he could lean down and give her a soft kiss, his forehead pressing to hers, his eyes shining as she glanced up at him.

“You ok?” she asked softly, reaching up to brush his hair back off his face as she noticed the look on his face.

“More than ok.” He smiled, his lips on hers again, “Because I just realised, we got all the time in the world Firefly.”

She grinned and nodded “Yeah, yeah we do.”

Still inside her, not ready to put that distance between them quite yet, he pulled her with him as he rolled to his side, her leg hooking over his as his hands skated down the bare skin of her back, his mouth trailing soft kisses down her neck to the crook of her shoulder as she gave a soft hum of contentment. He pressed his lips to her temple as she sighed happily, tucking her head underneath his chin the two of them simply laying in the dark, alone, wrapped around one another as close as they possibly could be.

**** Chapter 10

[haro-whumps]

Group Whumpees 10: Asking and Answers

So this chapter is interesting in that I wrote a lot of words, but not a ton of it is any sort of particular forward motion. Largely this is just me establishing setting, which I have sorely needed to do for my own self, and sort of giving my characters a breath before the next bad thing I have planned for them (which is just as fun as it is contrived and overdramatic). So if you wanna skip to Sasha’s first “eep” I would not fault you for it, since it is a rather long chapter and the first stretch of it is just a lot of detail work with hardly any action.

CW: slavery, aftermath of torture, referenced noncon, multiple whumpees, referenced alcoholic tendencies, referenced religious... stuff.

Tag List:@bleeding-demon-teeth @theycomeinthrees @redwingedwhump @whimperwoods @inpainandsuffering @whole-and-apart-and-between @whump-whump-whump-it-up @whumpingupastorm @newandfiguringitout @lonesome--hunter @looptheloup @icannotweave  @deluxewhump @whumping-every-day @yeet-me-out-a-window @what-a-whumpy-world @burtlederp @constellationwhump @swordkallya @finder-of-rings @fairybean101 @adventuresofacreesty @arlennil @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @lumpofwhump @thatsthewhump @pinkdiamondprince

Masterlist

First order of business: what in the fresh hell was actually happening in this house?

Well, okay, the first first order of business was tipping the locksmith and offering a can of soda before sending them back on their way, but then the first order of business was finding out what the fresh hell was actually happening in this house!

Galo had, admittedly, left it more or less unexplored. He’d gotten down all the weird art of his aunt’s with the help of Nyla and Evan, which meant he hadn’t scoured the place thoroughly, and he had settled into rather regular haunts. He passed through most of the main floor, some of the second (and he begrudgingly accepted that his mission would send him into his dead aunt’s bedroom), but that still left an expansive attic, the majority of the second floor, the rest of the main floor, the entire basement, and most of the grounds. Because Galo was agitated as all hell and his monkey hindbrain said that threats came from outside, he started with the grounds.

He’d run around them, of course, wandered through the gardens and hedges and whatnot, but the fact of the matter was that his aunt’s estate was massive. And since he was on “The Great Easter Egg Hunt: Saw Edition” for horrible things hidden in amongst the grass, it took a while. 

The smell of new mulch was thick in the air, pleasant and fresh. Galo also took the time to admire Lilah’s extraordinary work, wishing he was being this meticulous and thoughtful for more pleasant reasons. 

He never encountered Lilah, Evan, or Greyson, though he would occasionally glimpse them off a ways. He was fairly certain they were avoiding him, or at the least were cognizant of his presence and deliberately giving him space, and he honestly didn’t mind. He really wasn’t in a place, mentally, to deal with hysterics or panicking slaves. Which sounded awful, but there it was.

He managed to finish the grounds right as the sun was setting, and checked out the secondary garage more thoroughly than just passing through warranted. So far, nothing suspect was to be found. Given Auntie Bethany’s obsession with keeping up appearances, that wasn’t terribly surprising. She liked to host garden parties and had no reason to enter the secondary garage, herself, so it tracked that the estate gardens were pristine and not-evil and the garage was left to Lilah’s devices. 

The next day, after working out in a vain attempt to make himself stable enough to explore the house properly, he showered off and set to work. He started with the den.

It was blue, with a greyish-blue, dark, thin carpet, light slate walls and dark blue furniture. Galo opened the cabinets near the tv (and his aunt had so many tvs), but found only a vcr, dvd player, some unlabeled cords that he had no idea what they were for, some remotes, some old recordings labeled with name tags (shows Galo vaguely recognized, but couldn’t tell you anything about). Normal things. Not-evil things. Things that gave Galo no reason to believe this was a horrible, awful room that the slaves hated.

So he turned face and headed towards the other cabinets, the ones in the back of the room, behind a well-worn but clearly expensive armchair. Galo needed to know, but he also didn’t want to, and therefore was, quite literally, dragging his feet. Which was why he tripped, stumbling a bit. He turned back, brow furrowed, and his brain helpfully supplied that this was pretty much the exact spot where Evan had knelt, waiting for his punishment.

There was a D ring in the carpet. Dull; painted? But it blended with the carpet well, really only visible if you knew it was there. Galo sat on his haunches and hooked a finger through it, gave an experimental tug. No give at all whatsoever. 

He took a deep breath. He had a bad feeling about this. He straightened, turned back to the cabinets, and flung them open simultaneously.

First he took note of the chains. Hard not to, they glinted--metallic and grey, and there was so goddamn many of them. Handcuffs, padded leather cuffs chained together, collars and muzzles, all of them with lengths of chain that could, presumably, be used to attach them to each other, or to, say, D rings on the floor. Ahahaha god.

Distantly, as Galo pulled a muzzle from the cabinet and examined it, Galo wondered why he even bothered to still be horrified by his aunt’s actions. Sure, she was family, and Galo wanted to believe that his family wasn’t like… this. But Auntie Bethany had proven herself horrible in life and he shouldn’t keep being surprised by how horrible she was, now after her death.

The lower cabinets had a couple of canes, the kind that clearly weren’t for walking assistance, an honest to god whip, a fucking knife, and a metal rod that Galo couldn’t really discern the purpose of. Probably something awful and horrifying. He shut the cabinets firmly, rested his forehead against the cool plywood, and tried to take a deep breath.

He pulled out his notebook and drew a very large circle, in red marker, around “The Den is a bad place.” He then flipped a couple of pages and started up a running list of observations

There isn’t really anything of note in the gardens or garden garage. 

The Den has muzzles, collars, cuffs, and chains, plus a D ring in the floor

He wasn’t sure what he was ultimately going to do with this list, but simply making it made him feel a little better. Even if it was a list of horrible things he found in the mansion, it was still nice to have.

But okay. How to be sensible about this? He shouldn’t start removing things from cabinets, especially horrifying tools of torture, until he had somewhere to put them all, and something to do with them. He would need a plan, which meant he would need to complete his list of horrible things. And also probably rent a dumpster. So he removed his person from the cabinets in the den, glanced again at the half-hidden D ring in the floor, and then moved the furniture around a little. He found seven more D rings throughout the room, now that he was looking for them, subtle and easily blending in. One more on the floor, a little beyond the first ring, four in the walls, two in the ceiling, all clustered around the same relative spot, more or less. It further convinced Galo that yes, indeed, this was exactly where Evan had been kneeling.

Okay. Top down? Top down. Galo’s specific curiosity about the den now satisfied, he could just do a thorough, room-by-room sweep of the mansion, and so he made his way to the attic. The door to the attic stairs was in a guest bedroom, one that was meant for “children” in the way that it was cutesy and kitch, but had clearly been designed by someone who hadn’t really ever interacted with an actual human child. Galo had slept in one of those twin beds when he was very little, and remembered a distinct discomfort for the firmness of the mattresses and the scratchy quality of the overly-colorful block-pattern blankets. Should he go ahead and search this room now, since he was in it? No, stick to the plan, start with the attic. 

He climbed the steps, flicked on the lights, and then promptly blanked.

How did one human being even own this much stuff?? The attic was massive, a snaking maze of shelves and clothes racks with plastic covers and boxes stacked and arranged. There was a clear path through, dusty but meticulous, and, in a display of wealth so obscene it turned Galo’s head, the ceiling was finished. Who finished the ceiling of their attic?! Attic ceilings were supposed to have dangerously exposed nails and shitty insulation fully visible. Galo was far from a religious man, but even he knew that an attic ceiling was meant to be left unfinished like the good lord intended.

He might have been balking at the ceiling to cover for the fact that he had… no idea where to start, with all this junk. The attic spanned nearly the entire width and breadth of the mansion, and it was full. Absolutely full. Galo turned off the light, went back down the stairs, and shut the attic door. He would devote an entire day to going through all of that shit. Hell, he’d make a weekend out of it. But today was not that day. Kitchy kid room it was.

He explored many different guest rooms, opening drawers and closets and chests and vanities and whatever the hell else, poking his head out onto their balconies, but found them empty of anything troubling. Again, this tracked. Auntie Bethany likely wouldn’t let her non-Guest guests or family members know what she did behind the scenes. 

He found another sunroom on the second floor, the south-facing wall made entirely out of glass and a number of gridded skylights making up the southern half of the ceiling. There was a marble statue standing in the center of a tile fountain, here, and Galo held his pressed palms up in front of his mouth, squinting. He would’ve remembered this. He would’ve remembered the warm yellow walls and the aquatic mosaic flooring, he would’ve remembered the sprawling cluster of plants, he would’ve remembered the wall of glass, and definitely would’ve remembered the statue, with its detailed pubic hair and unrealistically buxom bosom. Had he just never been allowed in here? Had he simply failed to explore this far? Or was this an addition that had happened in Galo’s adulthood, when his primary method of surviving family gatherings had switched from “explore the castle away from the people” to “get drunker than them, faster”?

Who knew. What he needed to do was poke around in here and make sure it wasn’t another horrifying abomination. And check and see if the plantlife here was real, or plastic. He touched their leaves, the soil, and found, with surprise, that they were all alive. Huh.

Something… there was some gear in his head that started turning at that, some impression of a thought that was still too close to his brain’s horizon for him to make out just yet. He took out his pen and notebook and simply notated the second sunroom, which he crossed out and relabeled “plant room.” He flipped the page over and drew the general outline of the house, and then made some squares. He labeled each guest room and the plant room, and while he was no cartographer, it’d serve as a rudimentary map until he had a better idea of where everything was here.

There was only one cupboard, and it had fertilizer, a small watering can, a water spritzer, disposable gloves, and PH strips, which were more confusing than alarming if Galo was being entirely honest with himself. He hadn’t seen those things since freshman year of highschool in his mandated biology course. Actually, wait, there was also a folded up piece of paper, which Galo took out. He recognized Nyla’s careful script immediately, and read over her detailed list of the plants in the room, how much sunlight each needed and whether it was indirect or direct, and the watering schedule drawn out in a little grid calendar.

He couldn’t help but admire how meticulous she was. How put together. He had no doubt in his mind that she really was the one who’d run the whole household, when his aunt was alive. Hell, she still was--it wasn’t like Galo knew a ton of shit.

The second floor seemed primarily devoted to guest rooms, with an occasional cabinet or boudoir attached to said bedrooms. There was a large drawing room more or less in the “middle” of the mansion, a number of skylights directly over a sunken sitting area and a couple of tvs, plus places that art had clearly been stationed at before being removed for the crimes of being a bunch of fucking eyesores. A few pieces still remained, though, two different tapestries and a couple of abstracts. Plus a bunch of little tables, which were honestly charming and mercifully empty of tools of torture. Lots of little forks and platters though.

The master bedroom was not something Galo wanted to scour. His dead aunt had slept in there. (His dead aunt had hurt people, every night, in there). He made himself turn the door handle.

“Master Galo,” Nyla greeted, setting down a tiny, antique-looking watering can on the windowsill between a succulent and a corkscrew-curling plant Galo didn’t know the name of.

“Hey, Nyla,” Galo returned, extending his hand for her to cup lightly and kiss as she fluidly sank to one knee, then just as gracefully rose. “Don’t mind me, I’m just poking around a bit.”

“Yes Master,” she said with a charming little bow, her clasped hands dipping into the folds of her apron, “If I may assist at all, sir, please call upon me.”

“Will do, thanks.” He felt a surge of fondness for her. He knew she was just doing what she’d been trained to do, but he liked her smile when it wasn’t obviously-forced, and he liked her put-togetherness, and he liked, well, her.

He was very conscious of her presence, though, as he “snooped” around his own home. So he let her finish with the plants while he was in the en suite bathroom, opening the cupboards under the sink and checking the interior of the shower. Everything was meticulously clean, which he was grateful for (he could not handle it if he caught sight of his dead aunt’s body hair or some such thing). It was also perfectly normal, even if he found the little rugs along the side of the bath and looping around the base of the toilet to be ostentatious.

Nyla was still in the room, so Galo moved onto the closet door. He expected a walk-in with fifty billion changes of clothes (and really, had Galo ever seen the woman wear the same outfit twice?). He did not expect something that looked like it was intended to be a linens closet, stuffed full of canes. Canes, and, Galo noticed belatedly, knives, long strips of cloth and rope, plain eye masks far too crude to be used for her own sleep needs, and--god, was that lube?

The cane Evan had brought, that night he’d begged for punishment, stood front and center, clearly the most recently moved.

“Master?” Nyla’s voice cut through Galo’s shocked immobility, making him jump a little and tear his eyes away, “Is there anything from the tool closet you require, specifically?”

Galo shut the door harder than he should have, his own strength getting away from him and a tight smile on his face. The fact that he’d even opened that door was freaking her out, and the sudden loud noise did not help at all. For once, blessedly, Galo thought fast. “Actually, I was looking for her clothes closet? Which door is that behind?”

There were five doors in the master bedroom, one to the hallway, one to the bathroom, one to a fucking “tool” closet, so that left two guesses. Nyla visibly relaxed at Galo’s words, her smile losing it’s pinched edge (Galo was getting better, better at telling when her smile was tight or neutral or something approximating genuine happiness). Galo unwound a little, too, at seeing her return to the Nyla-equivalent of blank. 

“Of course, sir, this one,” Nyla said, leading Galo to a different door, and the exhorbitant display he’d anticipated. There was a fucking… boot bench in the center of it, with tall mirrors in the center of the three walls that didn’t hold a door, separating closets. No, wait, this whole thing was the closet, the little… shelf… hanging rack things were--

Okay Galo didn’t have all the fancy names for ridiculous rich people things, but the point was, there were so many clothes, so many shoes, a goddamn chandelier, and it was all fucking color coordinated.

“You, uh, you set up the…” Galo gestured vaguely in front of him, “rainbow effect?”

“I did, Master Galo,” Nyla said promptly, and Galo nodded. Figured. “Greyson does the laundry, and has kept it meticulously organized since, Master Galo.”

Galo made a mental note to add Greyson being the laundry dude to his list of things he knew about the slaves. “Thanks, Nyla, I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

He saw her give a cute little bow in the mirror, and she ghosted off while he stepped further into the space. The boyish instinct in him wanted to reach up and smack the chandelier, just because he was tall enough, and he could. So, like, hey, he did. It tinkled and swayed, light dancing around the space, and he snickered incredulously. He sat down on the boot bench, chandelier swinging above him, and pressed his face into his palm, elbow to his thigh, and just laughed, absurdly. 

It was too early in the day for hysterics, though, so Galo forced a deep, slow breath, then another, then a third for good measure. He took out his notebook, added Greyson’s laundry duties, and then wrote a bulletpoint on his aunt’s linen closet from hell. The worst part, the part that made him feel incredibly scummy, was that he was kind of tempted to keep the lube, whenever he managed to clear out all of the rest of that shit. It was useful, and Galo wasn’t in the habit of throwing away things that could be used. At the same time, though, why in the fuck and shit and hell was Galo entertaining the idea of using his evil aunt’s lube? Disgusting. But he’d feel bad if he threw it away. But also that was his aunt and she was evil.

Fuck, Galo thought as he ran his hands over his face, taking yet another deep breath. Fuuuuuuuck. Was there an off switch for his brain? He’d like it if there was an off switch for his brain.

Alcohol, aforementioned brain suggested helpfully. Later, he told it. For now: distractions. He stood and began pulling open drawers, lifting clothing in search for hidden horrors like a hyper-controlling parent looking for naughty magazines or diary entries. He found nothing but cloth, more cloth, more cloth, and silk.

Hey, remember how you didn’t give me alcohol? Galo’s brain told him spitefully, I’m going to make you think about your wrinkly aunt in lingerie, now.

Galo shoved the silk back in the drawer and shut it hard, mentally batting at his mind with a cartoon broom. Disgusting. Negative one hundred out of ten. Something he literally never, ever wanted to think about. He bopped the chandelier once more, in a spurt of whimsy, on his way out.

The fifth door led to his aunt’s personal boudoir, which made Galo sigh. He was definitely gonna find atrocities here. And he did! More rope, candles that Galo knew the exact purpose for (he might not have all the kinks, but he possessed some, and was aware of others), more restraints, and more canes. Good lord and he’d thought she had an extensive cane collection back when he didn’t know shit. Even the balcony had a cane on it! He gathered them up with intention to take them to the “tool closet,” where they could all collectively wait for the arrival of the dumpster, and spun too fast and tripped over the fireplace tool set, sending it over and its contents clattering. He sighed, setting down the torture shit on a nearby chair. Why did Auntie Bethany even have a fireplace tool set? All her fireplaces were gas fires, it wasn’t like she had anything to stoke. 

Probably decorative. It was shaped to look like an antler, each spoke housing a different tool, which also had intricate carvings/detailing on the handles and along the metal rods.

Galo shoved the canes and shit into the “tool closet” and sighed, pressing his forehead against it. Fuckin… He wasn’t even done with the second floor. But, he hoped, the master bedroom would be the worst of it, he hoped, he hoped. Since that was where the slaves “attended” her, and where she spent the majority of her time in this massive fucking house.

He found a supply closet full of actual supplies, cleaning chemicals and rubber gloves and dust masks and scrub brushes. It was so completely, entirely normal (if heavily stocked) that Galo felt a ridiculous amount of relief. He nudged some stuff around, but ultimately left it alone.

The old craft room, which was slowly turning into Galo’s computer room, was already scoured, so he passed it by. He moved into the music room--sound proofed, which made Galo’s stomach churn anxiously--with its piano and sound system and lounge chairs and folded up electric keyboard tucked behind a fancily carved record player. There were a couple of wind instruments in the cabinets, a violin or viola or whatever it was (Galo didn’t know instruments super well, hardly enough to distinguish on sight), and--yay--more restraints! A close examination revealed D rings in the floor, walls, and ceiling, like in the den, and Galo sighed as he took out his notebook.

There was some sort of… dressing room? Galo couldn’t discern the intent of it, until he found nursing blankets (which he knew were nursing blankets because they had lovely little cherub-like depictions of babies on them) in an otherwise empty cabinet. No devices of torture, so yay, big fucking mirrors for a room that people would allegedly feed babies in, less of a “yay” and more of a Giant Singular Question Mark.

He wasn’t gonna think too hard on it. He’d made that promise to himself the first night--or was it the second?--and he intended to keep it. Just accept things, and let them move on. If he didn’t let water under the bridge, he was going to drown. 

There was a well-stocked office not far from Galo’s room, and he added that to a list of miscellaneous notes. He didn’t know if he’d need an office, all things considered, but if he needed a designated space to work on things and focus, this would be a good place to do that. A thorough examination revealed only office supplies, though some of the paperclips had been bent out of shape and there were a lot of those little clips, like what you put on manilla envelopes or stacks of looseleaf.

The library was a two-story thing, the upper floor boasting a large square hole in the middle that allowed a clear view to the main floor, one wall broken up by floor to ceiling windows between the bookshelves (or maybe the bookshelves were the ones between the windows? Eh). An ornate spiral staircase connected the two, and he smiled at it fondly, remembering being utterly enamored with it when he was a kid. Honestly, he was still pretty enamored with it as an adult. He stroked his fingers over the railing, wondering if he could spruce the place up a bit. Add fairy lights to the railing or something. Add more than just his aunt’s pristine, chic, expensive art that took up minimal space, like her home was a museum or some shit. Clutter it up, fill the space, make the damn mansion feel lived in.

Later. He wrote that onto his list of things to do, but lines and lines below keeping his demeanor calm, cheerful, and approachable, and finding therapists with experience with traumatized slaves. 

Ugh speaking of he should really get on that. But first, the library. He half expected that if he grabbed the right book, or moved the correct artistically expensive bookend, a secret passage would open up. He’d housed the same belief since he’d been flopping around this place as a kid. He just had different ideas on what he might find behind the entrance. But the library was just a library, well-lit with lots of books on his aunt’s particular interests. He found a couple volumes on methods of torture used throughout history, and a couple of psychology books that he did not trust At All, and he moved those to a lower-level bookshelf where he could find them all later. The psychology books he debated on--he liked psychology, and was also the kind of person to read what was effectively a textbook for fun. And these were officially published, sourced, and researched. So it wasn’t like they were… bad… and Galo didn’t want to throw out useful things.

But he also wouldn’t be able to get a mental image of his aunt, reading over them, thinking up dastardly fucking bullshit as she read them. So if Galo wanted to read a textbook, he’d just buy one for himself.

He took lunch in the library, Greyson bringing it in and leaving it on one of the small tables. Galo picked at it as he picked through the books, and Greyson was quiet enough that Galo didn’t even notice him come in, grab the plate, and leave when he was done. 

The library was not far from the foyer, so Galo beelined to the front door, spun on his heel, and took a deep breath. One floor down. Two to go. And the attic, but again, that shit was for another time. The foyer was a large, open space, sparsely decorated, mostly just an ostentatious display of wealth and wasted space and the giant fucking chandelier. 

Immediately adjacent was the solar, which was full of tacky and ugly as sin furniture, but no terrible horrible secrets. Next to the solar was the parlor, which had nicer furniture and looked incredibly bare, which made Galo think that there had been a LOT of god awful art in here before the purge. Still no instruments of torture though. The living room was observed closely, but again there was nothing more than superfluous fire pokers for a gas lit fire, uncomfortable tiny furniture, and a wall hanging Galo kept waffling back and forth on about keeping.

After the dining room, Galo entered the sunroom and felt his mood lift. He really enjoyed the sunroom. He peered into nooks and crannies, but he spent enough time here that he wasn’t anticipating anything. A distant shriek made him look out the window.

Evan had lifted Lilah up in his arms, holding her about the waist as she visibly struggled. Galo frowned, alert, and was drawing himself up to his full height, about to bolt out there, when Evan set Lilah down, and draped himself over her. Galo could not hear them from here, nor could he make out the shape of Evan’s words, but Galo would bet his right arm that Evan was proclaiming a sudden increase in gravity. The posture was unmistakable. Galo smiled as Lilah wriggled out from under him, and Evan dramatically threw his arm up over his forehead and fell to the ground. Galo snorted when Lilah stared at him a moment before kicking him.

Galo watched, heart full of something nameless, as Evan wrestled Lilah back into his hold after chasing her halfway to the hedges, and he sank, body unexpectedly heavy, into a lounge chair. He watched Sasha enter the scene, carrying something Galo couldn’t see from that angle and prompting Evan to swing Lilah around like some long-suffering cat, dramatically talking with his hands, which were full of his friend.

Galo felt like he was letting out a breath he’d been holding for a long, long time. Since that first night when Greyson had knelt on his bedroom floor.

He got himself a drink of water and got back to his search, feeling… better. There was a room just next to the pool, with a little rinsing area and changing areas, plus pool supplies. He remembered this from when he was younger, and made a note to go swimming again soon. He had been up to his elbows hooking up his game systems in the entertainment center, so he did a quick perusal just to mentally mark it off. There was a room with gorgeous stain glass windows and old candles and religious iconography that Galo was pretty sure was some sort of personal chapel, which was gorgeous and had stale fucking comunion wafers and, haha, a bottle of wine. He still had to force himself not to drink it, but it wasn’t as alluring as it might have been. 

There was a room filled, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, with butterfly pinboards. It was smaller than a room-room, like a walk-in closet but without a clothes rack, and entirely, completely bare of anything except the pinboards. No furniture, no windows, nothing. Galo shut the door, mind blank, and felt the terror-giddy urge to write “set on fire” in his notebook. He did not. 

Another drawing room, a study, the salon, the billiards room, and Galo’s search of the main floor ended in the kitchen. Auntie Bethany seemed to have her haunts, and kept most of her instruments of torture there. Galo just sorta poked his head into the kitchen to see if Sasha was back yet (she wasn’t) and left it at that, knowing his aunt wouldn’t set foot in the kitchen unless she felt it absolutely necessary. The pantry, which was large as hell, was also somewhere Galo had been, and wasn’t worried about. 

The door to the basement had a series of locks on it, all on the side of the main floor. Galo remembered distinctly how Auntie Bethany had “put her staff away” during gatherings, and imagined each one of these locks being fastened. How had she gotten away with it? With treating them so terribly for so long? Why hadn’t anyone noticed? Why hadn’t Galo?

Descending the stairs was an experience. The basement was fucking vaulted. There was, there was, some sort of fucking ballroom or some shit, Galo couldn’t even describe the space, at the bottom of the stairs. It’d be cool as hell if it wasn’t fucking overwhelming. Actually, even still, it was cool as hell. Whatever architect had designed this place, they’d had the time of their life. 

The wine cellar was massive.

Galo made himself walk away.

There were two series of apartments, with bedrooms, a sitting area, a mini kitchen, and a bathroom to each, which took up most of the basement. Concerningly, none of them seemed used. The kitchenettes were certainly something for long-term guests to use, make coffee or some shit before heading upstairs for the day, but the drawers and closets were empty, showing no signs of the slaves living there. 

There was a massive bathtub/pool that Galo found, multiple showerheads rigged throughout the ceiling and a basin the size of two people laid out. Well, not Galo-sized people, but like, Lilah or Nyla sized people. Nothing outwardly horrifying to be found, but Galo was a little boggled to find a tub this size when there was already a pool outside. There was another bedroom, just hanging out on its own, also empty. There was the utility room, where Galo encountered Greyson.

“Master Galo,” Greyson greeted, and Galo tried to make his brain switch tracks while he was bending low to kiss his hand.

“Hey, Greyson. You doin’ laundry?”

“Yes Master; do you have need of me, sir?”

“No, no you’re good. I’m just poking around.”

Greyson nodded, and went back to switching the wet load into the dryer when Galo turned. Galo made note of a couple more D rings here, plus two dog cages and a pet carrier. Auntie Bethany had never had a dog. Certainly never one of this size. He added it to his list of awful shit to get rid of, his mind jumping. Who? Who had been locked in these? Nyla? Sasha? Greyson? Lilah? Evan? All of them? It was too easy, too easy to picture any one of them behind those metal squares, far too easy to imagine them forced into a cramped, cold, humiliating space.

Oh hey, the rat poison, just like Nyla had said. 

Greyson made no particular note of Galo, after his back had turned, and left somewhere after Galo finding the first D ring. It was just him, alone in the utility room, the sound of the washer and dryer keeping him company. Leaving, he took a deep breath. There were two doors left unopened. It was fucking barbaric, having all this space and all these rooms, and making the slaves pack in like this. They were probably separated by gender, too, one of these belonging to the men, the other to the women, because Galo had a hard time imagining his “good god-fearing” aunt running a risk of canoodling. 

He opened the one to the right, aware that he was most definitely entering a space that wasn’t his. But at the same time, he told himself, he needed to know what was happening, make sure they weren’t adhering to some atrocious routine simply because Auntie Bethany had ordered it and Galo hadn’t ordered it to stop.

This space, at least, looked lived in. Which was good, but also made Galo frown, because there was only one, large bed. He hadn’t thought his aunt, terrified of any implication of homosexuality as she was, would’ve encouraged her slaves to share sleeping space. Galo glanced at the dressertop, finding combs and hair ties and floral antiperspirant, so he guessed this was the women’s room. He poked his head into the en suite bathroom, finding only a standing shower and a relatively cramped space, not half as meticulously, tv-ready clean as every other bathroom in the house. Something made Galo relax at that, too, at seeing soap residue in the little indent next to the sink, at seeing the dust bunny behind the toilet. It was still a clean space, just, lived in. The marks of people’s presence were upon it.

Now Galo sounded fancy and old timey. He pulled open the top dresser drawer, and his brow furrowed. These clothes were Greyson’s, crisply folded and put away so that each section of the drawer was dedicated to a different type of clothing. Galo shut the drawer slowly, the idea that maybe he’d gotten it wrong, that this was the men’s room, flitting by once, but only once. He had a bad feeling about what was more likely. He opened the second drawer, and saw Nyla’s clothes, a drawer down was Sasha’s, Evan’s, Lilah’s, and the sixth drawer, the one at the very bottom, held more collars than Galo had ever seen gathered in one place. And men’s lingerie, which was equally horrifying for a different set of reasons. He shut the drawer quietly, sitting on his haunches, and took a deep breath.

He stood slowly, breathing slower, and pressed his palms together before running them over his face, up into his hair, down the back of his skull and lacing his fingers together behind his neck. He stared up at the ceiling, just allowing himself to process this information. He wasn’t particularly struck; he’d established that his aunt was terrible and he really shouldn’t expect otherwise, but he was surprised to know that they were all kept in the same fucking room as each other. And with only one bed, that was the really strange part.

“Eep!”

Galo turned, attempting not to look guilty for sticking his nose where it had no business being, and tried to smile at Sasha. Her dark hair was loose, flowing down to nearly her waist now that it was freed from her high ponytail. Her hands were wringing anxiously up in front of her chest, wide blue eyes on Galo, and he didn’t move fast enough to prevent her from dropping to her knees, forehead to the floor. He winced a little, approaching her. 

“Hey, Sasha,” he said, squatting down again and extending a hand to her. She glanced up, took the hand, and kissed it. Gently, Galo curled his fingers around her hand, holding it loosely and stroking her thumb softly with his own. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sasha glanced up at him, nodded as she glanced away, and Galo reached out his other hand, giving her shoulder a squeeze before bracing underneath her bicep and helping her to her feet. He left his hands where they were, once they were standing, contemplating her. It was hard to befriend, or, well, gain the trust of someone he couldn’t have conversations with. Not that any of them really talked, but with Sasha it felt like there was an added barrier. An extra obstacle.  

“Is everything alright, Sasha?” Galo asked, remembering the most recent instance of Sasha being terrified and close to him. She nodded, and he smiled. “Good.”

He glanced back at the large bed, at the dresser that housed clothes for all of them. “Sasha, do you all sleep here?”

An anxious glance at his face and another, more hesitant nod. Galo’s lips pressed thin. 

“Okay, well, we can fix that. There are those dorms on the other side of the basement, those would work, or we could choose individual rooms from--”

Galo was cut off by Sasha squeezing his hand urgently between both of her own, looking up at him with her wide eyes.

“No--!” she gasped, quiet but no less desperate for it, and Galo felt a spike of panic on his own end; what had he done wrong? “Pl--” she seemed to choke on the words, and Galo shushed at her, making as soothing of noises as he could as he pet at her shoulder. 

“Easy, Sasha, shhh shsh, easy honey, what’s wrong--” No that was a stupid question, she couldn't answer. She whimpered while Galo was trying to find a yes or no question that could discern what set her off, then the strength in her grip shot up.

“Please,” she gasped, and Galo just wanted to hug her, pet her hair and face and tell her it was gonna be okay. “M-” she choked off again, taking a series of deep and panicky breaths, “Master, don’t m-make--” Sasha cut off with a whine, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she curled in on herself. 

Galo’s brain finally kicked back on and he blurted out, “Typing! Here, just type it out.” He pulled up the notes app on his phone and handed it to her, praying she wouldn't drop it with her trembling hands. Not that he was worried about it getting damaged--it was a good model and he had a solid phone case--just that he knew that if she dropped it she'd spiral entirely out of control, since she was already teetering on the brink. 

She didn’t, thankfully, though she did fumble it a little when she handed it back to him, letting go too soon. He caught it, easy peasy, no troubles here, see? Please Master don’t make us separate was written with no ending punctuation, though Galo was pretty sure she was thinking in exclamation points. Aw, shit, okay, Galo read over it twice, then reached out and squeezed her shoulder again, trying to think.

The bed was large, very large, but to fit five people they’d need to pack in. It hardly seemed fair. But the idea of separating distressed Sasha, and given how tight-knit they seemed, would likely distress the others, too. If Galo suggested bunkbeds at this point, there would be no guarantee that if they agreed it would be because they liked the idea, or because the “alternative” was Galo forcing them apart. Still, it was just too much, to force them all to share a single room, with its single bed and single dresser, when they were all living in a literal mansion. But Galo couldn’t let his own feelings of injustice and his own wants preside over their wants and needs, and Sasha was telling him that she wanted to perma-sleepover with her friends.

Actually. This could be a really useful opportunity. Galo would feel bad for… “manipulating” Sasha, was really the only way to say it, but it’d get the idea across, hopefully? It was a gamble. But Galo really, really wanted to make headway with these poor people, so…

“Okay, Sasha, thank you. I like it when you ask me for things,” he said, gesturing a little with his phone, “that’s very good, and since you asked, you get what you asked for, see? No separating.”

Sasha’s eyes were jerking about, looking at Galo’s hand, his phone, the hand on her shoulder, his face, the room, back to Galo. He tried to patiently let her process his words, nervous on how she’d take them, if this would help encourage her to ask for things in the future or if this would be another thing that Galo would need to help her unlearn, this time with him as the culprit. Swallowing hard, Sasha raised a hand and pointed a finger at her own chest. Me?

“Yeah, you honey. And the others. I like it when all of you ask me for things that you want. Like when I took Greyson to the cemetery, yeah?”

Sasha nodded, visibly calming down, and kept nodding, lips moving silently over unspoken words. She seemed to catch herself, glanced up at Galo, and offered a shaky, unconvincing smile. Galo smiled back, surprised. He really hoped that meant it worked, that Sasha, and the others when news spread to them, would feel less anxious about asking for things they wanted or needed, moving forward.

It had the side effect of making Galo feel like a really, really weird sugar daddy, but he wasn’t going to examine that particular thought anytime soon, no sir, right into the repression hole with that concept. Galo gave Sasha’s shoulder a final squeeze and released her entirely, stepping back.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you were doing, here. Getting a hair tie?” Galo guessed, and Sasha nodded, smile gone and nerves rising once again. Galo gave her a wide berth as he passed her and left the room, giving her a little wave goodbye and a “Alright, have a good one.”

Ugh, shit, and, he knew Sasha was the kind of person who did better and felt less anxious when she had something to do. He meant to give her extra tasks, just as soon as he could think of some, but now would it feel like he was trying to keep her on her toes, or demanding “payment” for letting them all stay together? Fuck, everything was walking on eggshells, and he knew he couldn’t rush them, couldn’t push them without serious consequences, but damn if he couldn’t fucking wait for when they weren’t so… well, petrified and broken.

He turned the handle of the final door in the basement and came to a halt in the doorframe of the dungeon.

--

Sasha woke up before her family, just like every day before that one, and slipped out of the family bed, shivering in the early morning air. Her bra, when she put it on, was uncomfortably loose, and she wondered if Nyla could maybe… just put another one on the grocery list and buy one for her. Master Galo didn’t seem to check over anything that Nyla bought (he didn’t seem to check over anything), and also wouldn’t have any idea how recently Sasha had gotten this one even if he did, so she might not get scolded for wearing out the elastic so quickly. She tugged on her dress, settled her apron on, and combed her hair and pulled it up into a ponytail, then picked up her shoes and sat on the steps to the main floor to lace them up. The rest of the family sat on the bed, but Sasha didn’t like to risk waking any of them up.

After thoroughly washing her hands, she prepared Master Galo’s breakfast juice. Was it juice? Sasha was never sure what to call it. She didn’t really know what else it would be, but it also didn’t really seem like a juice. It wasn’t a slushy, though, and was it a ‘drink’ if it was technically food?

Sasha reliably saw their Master once a day, almost like clockwork, except there was a whole half-hour range when he might show up, and she was invariably nervous that whole half hour until he finally arrived, smiling at her and thanking her for his… thing. He showed up early, that morning, right on the upper limit of that half hour, and the way he clasped her shoulder was now familiar and not particularly alarming. It helped that he did it every morning, and it was always on her right shoulder, and it never hurt. He was still big and his hand was still very warm and very strong, but especially on the heels of what had happened to Nyla yesterday, Sasha wasn’t frightened by his touch. 

Bread was next, and Sasha contemplated what she should make for breakfast for her family and herself that morning. Now that it was her job to make sure they all ate every day (and what an incredible responsibility to have!), she was experimenting a little more with what she made, branching out. That morning, she decided on blueberry muffins, making two trays of six so that when Evan and Lilah finished theirs, they wouldn’t need to split a muffin between them. Sasha also soft-boiled an egg for each of them, peeling the tricky shells off with practiced efficiency.

“Morning Sasha,” Lilah greeted as she entered the kitchen, Evan right on her heels and yawning loudly. Sasha smiled and bent down so Lilah could press a kiss to her cheek, then gave her an egg to keep her busy until the muffins were done. Same for Evan, who ate the whole thing in a single bite. While it was the best way to keep the yolk from spilling out, Sasha had to wonder if it was tricky to eat like that, what with his mouth being so full and all.

Sasha asked Nyla about the bra when she was up, and Nyla jotted it down on her neat little notebook with a small nod, voicing Sasha’s thoughts on how Master Galo didn’t really check the grocery purchases, and probably wouldn’t care if Sasha got a new bra. Nyla was so smart.

When the muffins were gone and the bread was sitting on the cooling rack, the family departed to do their tasks, moving slower and easier with their workloads reduced and their Master out of the house. Greyson stayed noticeably close to Nyla, and Sasha didn’t doubt why. News that Lady--no, not Lady, Master Galo had told them to stop calling the Guests Lords and Ladies--Barbra had nearly stolen Nyla had shaken them all badly, left them clinging to each other, Nyla in the middle, in bed that whole night. Master Galo had kept anything terrible from happening, though, and if he was right back to his routine, then they could go back to theirs. 

It was nice, too, that Master Galo’s routine didn’t involve checking over their work as frequently as Mistress Bethany had, or maybe his standards were perhaps just possibly a tiny bit less exacting than hers had been. Conceivably. 

He seemed to like what Sasha made for food, at least. She’d only been wrong once, so far, trying out breaded pepperjack cheeseballs that Nyla couldn’t eat because they were too spicy, and Master Galo had sent back with one single bite taken out of one single ball. She’d spent that evening terrified, pacing listlessly about the kitchen and pantry, wondering when the punishment would come, but it hadn’t. She’d made other food that he had liked, which had probably been her saving grace. But also, he just, didn’t punish her for the mistake. Which she was grateful for! And she would never take for granted! She wouldn’t get complacent just because he’d shown her mercy, no sir!

Stuffed bell peppers sounded fun, and she’d asked for all the ingredients last time Nyla got groceries. 

She got all the prep work done, doing everything except actually cooking the peppers, and stuck them in the fridge. She decided a roast might be nice for dinner, so she rubbed the salt and herbs into it and settled it into the crockpot with onions layered overtop. She set the crockpot on low, knowing it would ever so slowly cook over the course of the day and be fall-apart tender by the time dinner made its way around.

Sasha went to the cupboard just above the kitchen phone (and she never understood why there was a phone in the kitchen; even when cooking had been Greyson’s job no one but Nyla or Mistress ever answered it) and pulled out the small tablet. Sasha was given internet access and allowed to peruse for the sake of finding recipes, which worked out, because she genuinely loved watching food videos. She could, and did, spend hours watching people mix together ingredients in aesthetically pleasing ways (she had the materials, she could do it like they did, if she felt like washing a lot of dishes). She enjoyed watching the time lapses of the food actually cooking, and she liked watching the specific action of people cutting into their creations with such intense precision, perfect triangles skewered on perfect forks.

She set a timer, checking that the tablet was still on its lowest volume, and let herself lose a little time until she needed to put the bell peppers in to cook. 

It was kind of lonely, in the kitchen, but Sasha didn’t usually mind. She liked being secluded, most of the time, and she got to make all kinds of fancy, interesting things. Her family would pass through from time to time (more often now, with Master Galo), and she was out from underfoot. She’d been at this for long enough, she wouldn’t know what to do, if she were reassigned to another area of the estate. 

She saw a video for fluffy cheesecake with strawberries and decided she wanted to make that for dinner that night.

After Greyson brought lunch to Master Galo, Sasha got food out to her family, first Evan and Lilah, who were both outside, then Greyson, then Nyla, who was… perturbed.

“He seems to be looking for something,” she said, the two of them in an unused boudoir that had, as Nyla reported, already been checked. “I don’t know what it is he’s looking for, but he certainly seems to be looking for something.”

“M-maybe he just wants a nicer b-bedroom?” The one he had wasn’t really the best in all the mansion. 

Nyla seemed to shake it off, and smiled at Sasha. “Maybe. We’ll know when we know.”

It was a mantra that they’d clung to, with Mistress Bethany and her games, but it had hardly been a reassurance, then. More like a final thread to grasp. Hearing Nyla say it now, it was almost like… almost like a “we’ll worry about that later,” even though they’d absolutely worry about it now, too.

Things were different, with Master Galo, Sasha mused as she started planning potential meals for the upcoming week and composing a grocery list for Nyla. She pulled out an apple, after, and sliced it, carving the peels off in such a way that they looked like little red rabbits. It was cute, if a little time consuming, even for her practiced hands, and when she was done she rinsed her hands and then stared at the plate, towel in her palms. What to do with them now? Evan and Lilah were pretty guaranteed to always be interested in food, and Master Galo had said to feed people a minimum of three times a day.

She had waffled for days, now, on whether or not to bring people food outside of mealtimes, or if she was supposed to wait for them to approach her. Today, she mustered up the courage to pick the plate and… leave the kitchen with it.

She felt like a rabbit, herself, out in the open air just waiting for a hawk to catch sight of her. Just waiting for something sharp to carve into her, reshape her how it wanted her to look. She tried to remind herself that it was fine, it was fine, it was fine. Master Galo told her to leave the kitchen to bring people food, and even though it wasn’t a meal this still counted. Besides, he never really saw her anyway, and it was a big house, what were the chances of them bumping into each other?

Sasha would try to be quick, even so. She felt marginally better once she was out of the door, out into the sunlight which warmed her. The weather was gorgeous, that day, and Sasha hardly ever got outside...

Evan and Lilah were roughhousing, Sasha could see them at a distance, and part of her was happy to see them having fun, but another part of her was anxious to see them slacking off. What if Master Galo saw them? And what if Master Galo saw her, with them, and got mad at all three of them? But Master Galo was looking for something inside the house, and he’d already been out in the garden the evening before, so it was fine, it was fine. 

Evan caught sight of her before she tried to call out, and grinned wide, hoisting Lilah up into the air with both arms around her waist, setting off another peal of laughter. “Avast! Intruder! A second stowaway beholden to mine eyes!” 

Sasha giggled, shoulders hunching up.

“Nay nay f-fair sea ca-captain. It is only your h-h-humble scullery maid.”

“Aarrrrg,” Evan called, swooping Lilah down so she dangled close to the ground, wiggling only a little because she didn’t actually want to be dropped. “If ye were truly of my crew you would know me for a pirate! No fair captains here, lassie!”

“Oh,” Sasha said, taking a moment to switch gears while Evan pretended to chomp at Lilah’s face. “Then m-mayhaps this rowdy p-pirate can be bribed?”

“Death! Death to the pirate king!” Lilah pretended to shout, because none of them were actually stupid enough to be loud. “I shall have him mounted to the bow as my new figurehead!”

“Arrg, big talk for such a wee lass!” Evan kissed her temple and set her down. “But maychance I shall let the shrimpy go uneaten, at the lovely dame’s behest.”

Sasha giggled again, accepting a kiss on the cheek from Evan while Lilah “awww”ed at the apple rabbits. A hand on her elbow brought her attention to Lilah, red rabbit pinched between her fingers. “Are you good to be out of the kitchen?”

“I… don’t know,” Sasha said honestly, nerves kicking back up. “N-nervous.”

Evan nodded, chewing on the apple slice in his hand, and hooked his arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze. He tongued the mouthful into one cheek and said, “You could say you’re giving us a late lunch, if Master gets bothered. We’ll back you up.”

Lilah nodded, and Sasha felt her nerves uncurl. It was hours after they’d actually eaten, but not so late to warrant scrutiny for the excuse. 

“Though, if I’m c-caught out here, you t-two definitely would b-be.”

“Point,” Evan and Lilah chorused. They moved further into the hedges, sitting down on a little stone bench together and Sasha told them about how she planned to start doing more food carvings, since she had all this time on her hands, and she liked the extravagance and challenge they presented. The sun was really hot, actually, and Sasha wondered if maybe she’d already started to burn. She didn’t want to leave, though.

But she did, when Lilah playfully gave her hair a tug and her worn elastic finally bit it. She sighed, taking that as her cue to head inside, and set the plate down in the kitchen before moving down the stairs. 

Master Galo was there.

Sasha couldn’t help the “Eep!” that escaped her, only a decade of practice keeping her from recoiling, from shrinking back, her now-trembling legs barely saved from backing away. Master Galo turned, face indiscernible before he gave a smile to Sasha. He filled their bedroom, loomed inside it with the light casting his face in a shadow, massive, like he was waiting--

Her knees gave out, body instinctively curling so her forehead was to the floor, hands wringing and clutched close to her chest. She couldn’t even breathe as he approached her. 

“Hey, Sasha,” he said, his voice taking that easy, careless tone he always seemed to take when he played his games with them. Not like his morning greetings or thanks for his green juice, something sinisterly akin to comforting, to soothing. She glanced up, and found his hand outstretched. Graceless, she took the hand, and pressed a shaking kiss to it while she prayed he would forgive her the oversight of not doing that when she saw him. She knew he preferred that to kneeling--she was so stupid! And she must have fucked up, because this time Master Galo didn’t retract his hand like he normally did, instead he curled his fingers around her hand, holding it loosely and stroking her thumb with his hand that could crush the fragile bones of her own at any moment. 

“‘M sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Sasha glanced up at him, terrorized; how was she supposed to respond to that!? What did he want? Did he want anything in particular, or was this just some script for manners that he included in the game? She nod nod nodded as she glanced away, and in her peripheral she saw him reach out his other hand, but it only landed on her shoulder. That at least was familiar. Comforting. But then, with a squeeze, he shifted his hand underneath her arm and brought her to her feet. She’d been graceless the first time he lifted her, and she was graceless again this time, too, weeks to adjust and prepare herself and still she couldn’t keep her weight off him, made him take some of her disgusting weight in his own hands in order to position her how he wanted and she knew that wasn’t forgivable. She braced for it, shivering minutely as his hands lingered where they were. She could barely breathe, standing there under his scrutiny, feeling his eyes on her as another one of his slow, thoughtful silences dragged on.

“Is everything alright, Sasha?” Images of Barbara came unbidden, of terrible things that had happened just the day before. But nothing had happened that day, so she nodded. “Good.”

It occurred to her, belatedly, as he took another (far briefer) pause to think, that perhaps he had been asking if she was behaving herself, or if she had any reason to be out of the kitchen at this time of day. Really, where did she get off even thinking that he might be voicing concern for anyone’s well-being? Stupid! (Unprecedented; her own thoughts alarmed her). 

“Sasha, do you all sleep here?”

She dared a glance at his face, not understanding. Why… why..? But hers was not to understand, hers was to obey, and her Master had asked her a question. She nodded, but it was the wrong answer. Master Galo’s lips pressed thin. 

“Okay, well, we can fix that. There are those dorms on the other side of the basement, those would work, or we could choose individual rooms from--”

Sasha felt panic flood her, her anxiety lancing her with sudden, violent intensity, enough for her to cry out a choked “No--!” He looked to her, surprised, (and in truth, she was surprised by her own actions, or at least would be later, at her defiance, at her arrogance) “Pl--” don’t stutter, don’t stutter, she couldn’t stutter, it’d make it worse, Master Galo was being forgiving still, she hadn’t fucked up the game he was playing he was shushing her and touching her but she needed to not stutter. Maybe, maybe if she could ask without stuttering, maybe then he’d, maybe they wouldn’t have to-- 

“Easy, Sasha, shhh shsh, easy honey, what’s wrong?” She choked down a high whine, a small whimper escaping her anyway (sloppy, the rest of her family would’ve stayed quiet, she was supposed to be quiet). 

She needed to get herself together. She was the one he was playing his game with, now, she needed to… to win. She squeezed his hand with panicked desperation, maybe if she could prove she wanted it enough, he’d find it entertaining. “Please,” she gasped, “M-” She cut herself off, feeling the stutter before it could bubble out of her, breathing hard like that had ever once made the stutter go away before. “Master, don’t m-make--” No! No, no, she covered her mouth with tears stinging her eyes, curling in on herself (ugly, poor posture, no-good rotten girl). She wanted to beg on the floor, curl down on her knees and huddle in on herself without it being bad but he was still touching her so she couldn’t!

“Typing! Here, just type it out.” He pulled out his phone and tapped on it before handing it to her, and she took it with shaky hands. Now she couldn’t curl down on her knees because she was holding his property, his possession, and she didn’t let herself even think about the possibility of dropping it because if she thought about it she would make herself sick. Right now, she needed to focus on begging, on keeping her family together in the one space that had been some small degree of safe, that had been in some miniscule way theirs. 

Please Master don’t make us separate, she wrote, and when she handed it back she fumbled it. She gasped, one tear slipping out, but she wiped at it while Master Galo read what she’d written and she thought maybe he didn’t even notice. When his hand approached her she flinched, but he just touched her shoulder again, and maybe it was just because nothing bad had happened to her while he was touching her there, so far, but it almost soothed her.

Master Galo had another one of his long thoughtful pauses, staring at the phone screen and moving his thumb slowly, lightly over her shoulder, skimming the edge of her apron strap. She stood, shoving down the tears, shoving down the trembling, shoving down her need to curl into a ball at his feet and beg him to just kick her and get it over with, as she waited on his response. Please, Master Galo, please don’t make us separate she willed, like if she just thought hard enough maybe he’d feel it.

“Okay, Sasha, thank you,” he said at long last, “I like it when you ask me for things, that’s very good, and since you asked, you get what you asked for, see? No separating.”

Sasha’s eyes blew wide, looking at Master Galo’s hand, at the phone in it, then the hand on her shoulder, his face, the room, back to her Master. He, he liked? He liked it, when, when they--or, when she? When, asking would, he liked it when they asked for things? She didn’t understand. She’d ask her family later, what they thought, what the game was, if he was lying, if they should ask--or if she should ask? Swallowing hard, Sasha raised a hand and pointed a finger at her own chest. Did Master Galo want her, Sasha, to be the one to ask, like a responsibility, like it was her responsibility to feed everyone?

“Yeah, you honey.” God oh no oh no Nyla was the one who was good at talking why did Sasha have to be the one--she couldn’t even talk right and-- “And the others. I like it when all of you ask me for things that you want. Like when I took Greyson to the cemetery, yeah?”

Oh. Oh! Oh!!! Sasha nodded, feeling herself calm down. Like Greyson and the indulgence. Like how Master Galo had made Evan beg to be punished before he would--oh, oh it made sense! It made sense now! Master Galo, it must be some sort of power display or something, it was the act of being asked that he liked! Like, maybe like just the reminder that he had the ability to tell them yes or no because he owned them and--and she should be paying attention to him, right now, in front of her. She risked another glance up at her owner’s face, and maybe it was just because she felt like she finally understood one of the rules to a game but she gave him a shaky, if genuine smile. Master Galo smiled back, and it almost felt like Sasha was in on something. First to know. The one who would share with the rest of the family, what she had learned.

Master Galo released her with a step back, and Sasha drew in a tremulous breath. “Didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you were doing, here. Getting a hair tie?” Sasha nodded, remembering that just now, herself. Master Galo passed her by with a “Alright, have a good one,” and Sasha took two hesitant steps toward the dresser, out of the line of sight of the doorway, before collapsing onto the carpet. She… didn’t even feel particularly scared. Just, just, so much, so intensely, and it had drained her of all her strength. She just needed a moment, please, just a moment, to collect herself, to refind her strength and composure.

She didn’t let herself stay down long, just enough for the worst of the shakes to pass through her in ebbing waves, cycling out of her, before she rose, grabbed a hair tie, got herself presentable again, and left.

Master Galo was in the Punishment Room.

Sasha knew better than to recoil, but even so, on her quietest feet, she ran. Through the basement, up the stairs, to the kitchen, and she was cornered, she couldn’t leave, but, she was hiding, “hiding,” he could find her he could come find her any moment but this was where she was supposed to be she was good she was good she wasn’t being bad she didn’t want to be bad there wasn’t any reason to put her in the Punishment Room god please god not the Punishment Room even Evan hadn’t been in the Punishment Room in so long and Mistress hadn’t put her in it in so so long and Master Galo didn’t need to use it please please not the Punishment Room why was he there what was he doing why please no please not--

“--sha? Sasha?”

“Nyla!” Sasha gasped, clinging to her the moment her eyes registered that she was there.

“What’s wrong? Sasha, what happened?”

“I--he--” Sasha choked, curling into Nyla, face pressed into her shoulder, clutching at her apron skirt, desperate, needing, and Nyla’s arms came up around her back, holding onto her (safe, safe, Nyla was safe Nyla would protect her Nyla would make everything better). She tried to speak, her mouth not working, and it took her three, four attempts before she finally managed to get it across that their Master was in the Punishment Room. Nyla soothed her, soft shushes with her hand in Sasha’s hair.

“He’s been searching the house,” Nyla said in hushed tones, “He’s looking for something, that’s all, he isn’t,” Nyla seemed to falter, but pressed on, “Master Galo isn’t going to hurt us. Not, not there, at least. He’s just searching for something, that’s all, it’s alright Sasha, pull yourself together it’s alright, sh sh.”

Sasha nodded, trying to tamp it down. Master Galo had searched the garden the day before, he’d been through the house that day, Nyla had discussed it with her earlier! Master Galo was looking for something, and, and that had to be it, right? He was just checking all the rooms. Slowly, far too slowly, Sasha wound down.

Nyla pulled back enough to cup Sasha’s cheek in her palm, and searched her eyes. “Maybe… do you suppose he’s surveying the household; he didn’t go through room-by-room when he arrived, perhaps he’s just doing it a little late?” Nyla suggested. “Or possibly inspecting our work?”

And Sasha had just been thinking, earlier, on how lucky they all were that he didn’t seem to do that. She couldn’t help but feel that she’d jinxed it.

“M-maybe?”

Nyla took a deep breath and Sasha caressed her cheek in return, their foreheads pressing together.

“Just focus on your job, for now. I’ll speak up if something happens.”

Sasha felt herself soothe down a little more. Nyla would handle it. She nodded, trying to seem more confident than she was (her nerves were shot), and Nyla drank a glass of water before leaving.

Sasha remembered belatedly that she needed to tell Nyla that Master Galo wanted them to ask him for things, but this way she just ended up telling everyone at once, once their Master had eaten and they were gathered together in the kitchen for dinner.

“So he likes grovelling,” Evan mused, not sounding as bitter as he might have. Maybe despondent? But not angry, and Sasha’s brows knit to see him so… reduced. But maybe this news would cycle through and he’d feel better.

“It explains why I didn’t have to pay for the indulgence,” Greyson mentioned quietly. “Why he rewarded me for it.” Oh right, Greyson had gotten an easy day, hadn’t he?

“And why Evan was given prolonged threats with a comparatively mild punishment,” Nyla mused, “And it also might actually explain why we weren’t allowed to eat that first week. He was waiting for us to ask, and Lilah’s stumbling indicated that we would pass out first.”

Lilah huffed and stabbed her potato. “Mistress only liked begging when we were hurting,” she groused, voicing frustration that Sasha, personally, wasn’t even brave enough to feel. “And we sure weren’t supposed to ask for anything.”

Nyla could, because Nyla knew when to ask, and how to ask, and how to ask for only so much at one time, so it didn’t come off greedy, but balanced it with not asking too frequently, to avoid pestering Mistress. But now Master wanted to be pestered.

“Arrogant,” Evan whispered, barely a breath, not bold like he was normally (like he was supposed to be (no, that was a bad thing to think)). 

“We c-can grovel,” Sasha said, kinda hopefully, “I don’t m-mind grovelling.”

“It’ll take a bit to get used to,” Nyla said, setting her fork down on her empty plate and patting down her apron, “but I think ultimately this is going to be a better situation for us. And, by some stroke of fortune, it doesn’t seem that we’ve left the adjustment period yet.”

“He might not like that he had to spell it out for us though,” Lilah said, and oh, Sasha hadn’t even thought of that. He kept waiting for them to figure it out and they hadn’t. That was… probably not good.

“We’ll…” Nyla huffed through her nose. “Everyone just keep minding their manners, and let me know if his temper seems shorter or if you notice anything peculiar, or any changes, really.”

“He seemed different during tonight’s meal,” Greyson mentioned, and the family turned to him. “Not in any discernible way, but,” Greyson shrugged, a small barely-there movement that Sasha knew as well as her own skin, “different. Stiff, maybe.”

Nyla took a deep breath, the family looking to her, waiting for her verdict. “That probably means he’s a little irritated, but still not inclined to hurt us. It might also be from not finding--or finding, possibly--whatever it was he was looking for during the day. Don’t step on his toes.”

The sensation of mild alarm left the room, and Sasha… honestly felt good. Wrung out from her encounter with their Master, but they knew he liked begging, he liked being asked for things, that was--hopeful. That was a good thing, important to know, and, well, he seemed inclined to grant the things they asked for. Probably just to encourage them to keep doing it. But his motivations still meant he would do it!

It had been many years since Sasha had received any formal training, but, she vaguely remembered a unit on how to ask for things attractively. She shut down that line of thinking, because her stutter meant she would never be able to, but… as she cleaned up the kitchen, it made for a nice idle fantasy.

Next

[psychedelictrashpanda]

It’s been awhile, weird old blog with unspecified direction. How about more of me me me?

I finally did DMT again, and WOW. It’s been at least a full decade since the last time. I still didn’t quite “break through” enough to “meet the entities” again but mein GOTT was it healing. Speaking of God, we’ll get to that soon... But before smoking the dimitri, I was beginning to sustain a mania in slow motion with dissociatives again. Not to any extreme like I did with PCP long ago (btw, glancing at my Eyehategod poster, I realize that horror/metal fest when I was blasted on PCP the entire time was all the way back in 2013! It seems to much more recent, but the way these drugs interact with memory is very peculiar. or maybe it was the traumatizing effect of it and other things at the time that makes me block out and thus distort the time signature of the memory... I digress). And I don’t have the destructive tendencies I did in the past anyway, so I’ve never been apt to push it as far as I was when I was shooting up 3-meo-pcp and blacking out for days at a time. I mean, I did push it I suppose. For the main George Floyd protests I was loading up on a combination of things. Can’t even remember if that was my sober window between methadone detox and the suboxone I’m on now. But, I was combining bits of weird PCP offshoots with opiate offshoots (4-map iirc) and/or kratom with maybe a drop of benzo... straddling the line between going overboard and a “party dose” for lack of a better descriptor; between recreation and desperation. In retrospect, I was summoning the courage to act like my old self used to in these sorts of situations. That is, giving it my all, being novel about it, idk, summoning the spirit of Dr Gonzo I suppose (who, after reading his two books, was more slimey of a jerk than he’s presented in Hunter’s stories. well, I need to finish the Cockroach People book, he started getting into his attraction to underage girls as a young 20-something man himself and ugh, gross). My true wild & adventurous spirit has been hampered, weighed down with anxiety and depression and all manner of undiagnosed mental illness. Who knows if it’s more the drugs or the environmental factors that trigger drug use, but the spirit is tortured like Griffith in the torture dungeon, the heart is wrapped in a black grime guarded by the Beast of Darkness, the will is subordinated to authoritarian capitalist hegemony...

Where was I? Oh so I started suboxone for the second time in my life innnn... February I want to say. Last time I did it I was able to detox myself simply buying subs off the street, but I did it too quick. That’s been one problem, every time I detox rapidly it’s too harsh a push back into reality and I succumb to relapse less then a year into sobriety. The reason reality is harsh is the same reason my stance on anti depressants has been further cemented. I’ve articulated it better lately... Basically I believe it’s a weird solution to depression to force your chemical makeup into the right position to function properly in the same environment that caused it in the first place. “It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” One of my conversations with a young college friend really illuminated why many don’t even consider this position. She was insistent there’s no cause of depression, you’re just born with a fucked up mind. Now sure, hereditary disposition is a thing, as a drug addicted child of an addict I should know. But for example she pointed to another friend with hard depression and was like “his life seems fine what explanation could there be?” But I put forth maybe his childhood of having to closet his homosexuality in a hard conservative family that had the possibility of disowning him if they knew about it contributed to that “natural chemical imbalance,” as it’s implied. YES, some people NEED it. But for the most part, it really seems to me to be what I’m gonna call the thyroid phenomenon. That is to say, a medical explanation for a small fraction of severely affected patients is used as a broad brush by the public to diagnose themselves. Forewarning: I am not fat shaming here, forgive the example. Dietary practices are a personal thing so my feelings are stronger as well. Anyway, it seems to me as soon as this thyroid malfunction became a hard biological explanation for obesity beyond the psychological, suddenly everyone was a candidate. It’s fine to think “maybe I have it” but when a growing and significant portion of the obese crowd started screaming they all had thyroid problems and can’t help themselves, when a teensy percentage actually do... well it sort of touches on the “addiction as a disease” narrative that’s never sat well with me. Addicts use the disease reasoning to skirt personal responsibility. I'm not denying it is a disease, but I believe calling it as such in the public discourse isn’t terribly constructive. (Okay, you’re seeing an opinion change in real time here... I changed my mind.) I was vehemently against the narrative, but I need to readjust to simply make people WARY of the narrative. As an addict, I could easily see myself using the excuse of it being a disease as a fatalist function; that is to say giving in, relinquishing personal control over my fate. Hereditary disposition, Rat Park, addiction as a disease... there’s also a severe lack of control it all conjures. Paradoxically, drugs can used to meticulously control your state of mind. I can’t control my desire to control myself?

God where was I going with this... Oh! God! May as well mention I’ve been warming up more and more to the spirit of monotheism beyond it’s structural and institutional dimensions. I could get deep into my recent past of not believing in the idea of a spirit, soul, etc. How the pendulum of my ideology swings between cold rationalism and loose spirituality, especially as I go through phases of rebellion against perceived oppressors. Growing up in a red state with a lot of Christian ideals, society around me was always telling me everything I seemed to like was the work of Satan. Naturally, I started reading into Satanism. I never self identified with occult-esque belief structures, except maybe chaos magick because it’s whole idea is to merge whatever practices work into something of your own, but I did staunchly identify as anti christian. Not a hard thing to do when you’re already a metal head, which definitely fueled the trajectory. Not to mention metal helped goad me into DXM use (thanks Velvet Cacoon ya bunch of goons), the first real psychedelic journeys I had. Because I never gave real consideration to myself having depression, I moulded my personal ideology around the symptoms it causes. Which is why for awhile after coming to terms with depression as a problem I probably have, I was only able to identify it in retrospect. I never felt it in real time because it was so old-coat to me, I adapted to it like an addict adapts to their drug of choice and ti becomes their world. So I would decide to skip social events, let my room get messy, watch only old comfort shows, etc... but only AFTER emerging from that state was I able to immediately look back and think “wait... I was doing all those things because I was depressed.” In the moment, it’s rationalized as “I don’t want to see these people for these reasons” or “I want to watch spongebob because it’s fun and an old favorite.” Rationalization, the concept of the west, serves as a detriment to the individual in a number of manners. This is one. I was a MASTER at rationalizing away my drug use. Statistically, more people die from this this and that, why be worried that I’m on this drug instead? Statistics quelled the perceived danger. It was also a formative tool in my skills of justification. I always felt I had to justify every action I took, but that’s getting back into family matters...

But why not bring that up? it’s a sore spot. I feel like the tables have flipped from my dad always saying “you all just think I’m an asshole!” to me thinking I’m the asshole. It’s too much to get into but I’ll touch on a couple important things... I’ve learned a major source of my anxiety is not being able to draw the boundaries between business and family and myself, because they’re not properly defined. When I’m told by my bossfather after explaining the distress I feel simply thinking about the family company, and he goes typically all-or-nothing when I touch on crucial issue and says “if you want out just tell me you want out”, I can’t separate between whether he’s saying it as a father or as a boss in the moment. He would say, “of course I just mean the company”, but where does company end and family begin? It’s also an intense pressure, maybe shame, simply typing this and thinking in the back of my head about someone who might read and think “what a spoiled brat, has a family company and blah blah.” But who put all that in my head? He says he’s changed from the days of putting immense pressure on me with the sort of sentiments that cause that shit in my head like always telling me how great I have it and all the opportunities, shit, I’m feeling it right now, the frustration and I can’t even identify these emotions. At least I am aware of them, that’s a huge milestone for me. But the only thing that’s changed is he sees me as a the broken mother fucker I am and treats me as such. Sometimes it’s nice, and sincere sympathy, other times his frustration with having to check his language all the time is palpable so it does no good to do so. The immense pressure, the intense urgency, the confusing complexity, all those market pressures haven’t changed. This is evident when we were driving somewhere and I suggested not worrying about the fastest route on the map because one minute isn’t a big deal and he insisted that one minute IS a big deal. Sweating one fucking minute indicates a mountain of reputational pressure. In a way, that one minute is putting business ahead of family, but I feel harsh saying it because as he’s pounded into my head the business is what allows the family to survive. Not to mention why put the crack head of the family above that one minute (not literal crack, but it was obvious as soon as he saw I was “fucking around” on ketamine he decided to not take me as seriously) Still, I’ve made my decision that survival reasoning is fucking bullshit already. He’s the one that wants a mansion and wants enough mailbox money for us not to have to worry ever again, so he’s the one deliberately creating the pressure. Maybe he hasn’t considered how hardened he’s become to those feelings after a lifetime in the street and in prison. I really feel for mom. She’s okay now, but her spirit... It’s part of the reason I can’t relax myself at home. He has always painted her as dead weight in the past, never getting a job, sitting watching TV, but he’s unable to connect the dots psychologically because we’re all layman that part of the reason she’s like that is because her actions have been demonized already so who the fuck she got to prove herself to? Same reason I fell into relapse sometimes. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t sort of deal. The damned if I don’t being the reputation of yourself you have to live with after getting sober. He says “don’t worry about it” but I couldn’t accept that because the reason he doesn’t trust me (never mind respect, that’s even further away) is informed by my past. I can’t complain that he never allowed me to contribute to a crucial decision like choosing the building for the dispensary, talking about whether we want a certain investor or not, etc, is because that’s not something to entrust to a druggie. I’ve always felt he let me play make-believe CEO and gave me an allowance for it, while telling me otherwise. He’d say “this is all for you” but he’s making the decisions that truly move mountains and then putting it on us. Which is why I have a hard time saying “I want out”, he can be a baby about things just as much as I am, and I fear he’d let his entrepreneurial drive be affected by my departure. Sigh, this is already getting to be a headache to think about... He’s tired. I’m tired.

There was also something I wanted to say regarding the role social constructs play in all this, but it’s getting long enough already. Suffice to say I’ve been getting into psychoanalysis lately and it’s scratching the right itch for knowledge and wisdom. I can see why Zizek is enamored with Lacan, and why it’s so important to mix it with Marxism. And not to toot my own horn, but what the hell... There are a lot of lofty ideas I’ve been coming across that are already parallel to ideas I’ve developed through my own life experience, and it makes me think I’m meant for this sort of stuff. If I’m lucky in my pursuits (not to put too much weight on the luck aspect), I’ll be a journalist of some sort. Articles, video essays, whatever. Need to rein in my indecisiveness and dispel FOMO tho.

Back to DMT. But not really. Earlier in the summer I got some straight Ketamine and it was also immensely healing. But it has a great abuse potential, especially for me, so it’s harder to “hang up the phone” after I get the message as TmK would say. It made me feel again, and start to understand what love is. Partly because it conjured all these lost feels I had for Kat. She’s great people though, I think I’d just stress her out too much. Idk. Whatever. My love life is a total mess. Anyway after I ran out I wanted more of course and stumbled on some DCK, a somewhat rare ketamine offshoot. Coupled with my increasing propensity to trip acid more than once a week, they started building on each other. I was happier and happier at home, but at work/fam was getting more and more distressed about my place in that whole show. In his show. Simply thinking about the company, especially after having read that article about procrastination and how much it resonated with me, caused me unnecessary levels of distress. Normally as quickly as I can feel that, my mind will tuck it away and bottle it up somewhere so I can go about my day. The problem with drugs is they cause you to act instead. So he was doing the usual “it’s so easy! you’ll have it made!” and I interrupted with this torrent of shit I’ve been holding back forever, and he would not yield on his “you didn’t let me finish...” Incidentally, has he really never picked up on every time I interrupt I already know what he’s talking about? I said as much, something like “it’s not the labor” and he keeps saying “no you’re not listening” as though a frivolous detail changed the main thrust of the fact he’s always trying to make it easier for me. I wish he could simply let me go off and have the strength to take it a little less seriously, but considering how often I take things personally I shouldn’t be surprised he does to. On top of this, his brother/my uncle was in the hospital for some serious shit. But another reason I picked this time is because I only feel safe even confronting him when non-involved parties are around. He doesn’t care that I don’t feel safe confronting him though, he says “don’t worry about me” so maybe I shouldn’t. I feel like such an asshole about it, but that feeling is conjured by the ideological structure he helped to create. Where does my shame end with him being the causation and start with my personal ideology? How much can a person create their own ideology, truly? It’s about as small a window as free will, I imagine.

SO after feeling awful for going off after having all this stuff build up in my mind, I felt awful and went home to drug up some more. Again, not recklessly to the extent I used to be. But I did a fat line of DCK while on a couple hits of LSD and a smidgen of Zolpidem (a wholly underrated substance). Everything was getting to me all at once. A perfect storm of my problems. All the while another doubt caused by ideology from without (society and family both) was making me think it’s all the drugs. But the developments I’ve made are huge strides, I’ve matured so much from it all. And I realized every time I do this, those developments are wiped clean because the validity of them is rendered null due to both the general social stigma of drugs and my history with them. And maybe that’s a major trigger fo rmy relapse in the past. I’m not suppose to be on drugs, but I dabble, have incredible experiences and make strides of maturity, but because it’s drugs the exact opposite effect is percieved from the outside; the experiences are simple chemical euphoria, the strides of maturity are false delusions. It triggers a sharp roll back down hill. I wish someone respected me for who I am, I feel so alone sometimes.

Drugs as an umbrella term, drugs as a vice for the worst dregs of society. There are so many problems in our world regarding drugs. I could write a book. But how much I’ve written here touches on another pressure I feel. IS it simply him again? When he asks “you’re gonna be gone in a few days right?” is that what’s making me feel like this is a waste of time? I’ve got to get out of here. It’s so hard though. I simply have to be strong. The strength is in me to take the massive cut to pay and benefits when I move. Maybe I’ll get a portion of my strugglers card back and shit heads like Blasey Shomas can’t simply say “why don’t you take care of yourself instead of daddy taking are of you?” anymore. Part of me wants to say he says that because he’s driven by his own emotions and not smart enough to directly debate my claims, his insults should hold no weight. Another part of me is truly trying to be... I don’t know a proper term for it without sounding egotistical, but “enlightened”? This is why monotheism is sounding more interesting to me. Jesus’ position about those dregs of society. I’ve always tried to be a trusting person, understanding of people’s struggles, the ideologies they function under that make them lash out or otherwise act the way they do, etc. I even changed my wording there from “I’ve always been” to “I’ve always tried to be.” Not so much for my usual reasons of dodging a committing claim (which I’m working on -- instead of “I think ___” just say what I believe to give the claim more sense of authority so as to be taken more seriously), but trying to be more humble. And not to think lowly and use myself as a punching bag like I used to... ugh, whatever. This post is messy enough.

So that night after having done DCK every day for a couple weeks and tripping every other night on acid, I was at my wits end on what to do, where to go next, everything. The outside world is crumbling, the inside world is lost. I finally whipped out that DMT I’ve had for a long while, something inside told me it was time. Oh duh it was the wits end part, I had no other chemical recourse. I sat in my bed with a foil sculpture loosely resembling a pipe, repeated to myself “it’s okay, just let it happen to you, it will be okay.” A part of me even had a small fear based on those rare reports of those interdimensional beings mentally raping some people, but I don’t know what to make of those experiences, seem like flukes. I took my three deep hits and set the pipe aside as soon as the rusb began and laid back. It wasn’t enough to break through, so I need to get a proper pipe, but it was enough for a “being” (which I am convinced is a part of your mind, not from another dimension or otherwise external source) to appear before me. At least I think. Whatever it was slowly came closer, reassuring me that I’d be okay. The most profound part was an overwhelming sense of all these puzzle pieces suddenly falling perfectly into place where they should be. As though the answers to all my struggles obvious and within me the whole time. For example as soon as I came back I adjusted my posture, as that’s something that I’ve been wanting to work on, and because I was reminded of that just now I adjusted my posture in my seat while writing this. I felt an overwhelming sense of forgiveness toward myself, I think. Amazingly, the inebriation I felt before the trip was largely dissolved, as though the stuff I was on somehow all lost it’s potency. The distresses melted away. At least, the power behind them was nulled. I’m still facing the same problems, but there’s a zen(?) quality to my thinking when they come up in my mind. No longer will a pin drop trigger everything I’m feeling all at once. When I came-to completely, I started BAWLING. In being overwhelmingly consoled by the trip, I became inconsolable. Tears of joy. Tears of healing. And that was the main takeaway. The loudest words of the experience were “Now the healing can truly begin.” At the same time, now the real work also begins. 

Balance is key

[pretty-rad-arson-dad]

Hey guys so, about the whole situation that had happened with me being fasley accused of being a pedo, I said I'd make a post telling our side of the story (cause this involves so much more than me and them) and involves about 10 other people.

Also, ahead of time, sorry if this is messy, I just really don't know how to make these kinds of posts to clear things up? Explaining things like this is not something I'm good at. I was also going to post this sooner, but stuff in my persona life happened, and I've also received threats from this person's friends if I tried to come forward with my side of the story (or more like made anymore posts about it, as there's already a whole call-out post about them on Instagram, which I'll be showing later). After some debate, I actually realized it would probably be best if I actually did, just to get a warning out, even though I know there's a chance this won't be recieved well cause this is fucking Tumblr... And again, I'm just trying to tell our side of the story and warn others so the same doesn't happen to them. Also because I do believe this guy might have a Tumblr account and might try to seek out more people to abuse. I sure as hell know one of his friends who helped stalk us have a Tumblr though.

So, the person making the accusations was someone who joined my discord server, and at the time of joining, he was saying that he was of age. Several members on the server can vouch for me when I say this. Of course, in regards to him telling us he was of age, this is apparently something he failed to mention when he decided to make that callout conveniently enough. I'm still unsure of what his actual age is, wether he actually lied to us about being an adult when he joined the server or if he was lying when he claimed to be a minor in his callout. 

Anyways, sometime after he joined the server, he started to become a problem. Me, being an idiot and feeling bad for him, allowed his behavior to slide, though I didn't know the full extent of what he was doing til a bit later.

He would constantly talk about how he was being abused and we'd try and help him with advice, which he never really listened to, and if anyone on the server mentioned that they had done something fun or had a great time doing something that day, he'd go off and make us feel guilty for having fun, cause his at home life was shit and apparently if he wasn't happy, we couldn't be either. He actually tried to pull some shit while I was celebrating my birthday with my family. This kinda becomes a bit important later? Or at least the day becomes important later.

He's also known as kind of a pathological liar on the server, claiming that they one of the official FNAF artists (one who doesn't exist, btw), and start rumors about YouTubers and other people we liked, and whenever I'd ask for proof, they'd get all defensive. This itself isn't a big deal, except he also has the tendancy to start rumors that people are pedos if he gets into a heated argument with said person. It's actually happened when one of my friends said he didn't feel comfortable with people shipping things between adults and children. This caused a giant argument to erupt and I had to temporarily boot said friend from the server. At this time, my accuser then decided to make accusations that the friend of mine was a pedo because he... Didn't like people shipping adults and children.... Of course, we told him to cut the bullshit and stop causing rumors.

Now, keep in mind, they got upset over someone being grossed out by shipping adults and children.

This becomes a bit important later.

We ended up having a few other problems with them as time went on, them critizing other members AUs (well, more along the lines of bullying them for their AUs and projects), more guilt tripping and at one point, even bragging about pushing someone to suicide (at least that's what 2 of the other server members are telling me, I can't confirm this, as it seems it happened during a period I had no internet, and there's a good chance they might have deleted it, but do feel free to take this with a grain of salt). 

Eventually, he actually ended up leaving the server for good because of Tupperbot. Adding the stupid bot was the second best decision I've ever made in regards to him, honesty.

However, for a lot of us, the main tipping point was the roleplays and private DMs.

He loved to roleplay some pretty fucked up shit with a lot of people on the server. We've actually had one member as young as 11 come forward and say he had tried to do shit with them too. Keep in mind, he told us he was an adult when he joined. He would love to roleplay all sorts of weird, incestous and pedophilic shit with us, and would force it on us out of the fucking blue. Another thing worth mentioning, me and a few others are victims of childhood sexual abuse and rape. He CONSTANTLY put this shit in most of the roleplays he did with no regard to how triggering it was for some of us. We never even got a warning or an ask if it was okay to have something like that put in a roleplay. Some members spoke to him about their discomfort involving the shit he was putting in the roleplays, but it was disregarded and he'd continue to do it. Some of us were even so scared to say anything about it, as we were afraid he'd lash out at us and threaten us, so we just put up with it. 

Aside from the roleplays were the really weird direct messages he'd sometimes send. There were times someone would be venting (this would happen in the server as well) and he'd respond with that they had no reason to be upset and that he's been through much worse. There would also be times when someone would be feeling depressed, and he'd make these private little group chats to try and "intervene" by inviting a few of us in there with the said person. This would be fine on its own, but he always made it a point to invite one person that we've REPEATEDLY had to tell him not to invite. I'll call this person Wah, cause I don't want to cause them any more stress by exposing their account name. Wah was someone we've told him not to invite because she was, at the time, experiencing a lot of suicidal idealations and we were worried putting her in a situation like this where one of her friends was feeling like killing themselves and her having to help to talk them down would be the sort of thing to set her off into hurting herself. We obviously didn't want that, so we made it a rule not to ever get Wah involved. Accuser knew this and went and always invited Wah anyways. And would shrug it off whenever we'd go off and remind him of Wah's own mental health issues. There has also been at least one instance with them and another user, who was feeling suicidal. They mentioned they had been wanting to kill themselves and accuser went off about how if they killed themself, accuser would kill themself too. This obviously scared the shit out of this person and made them feel more awful.

And there of course, is the shit they did to me. They'd sometimes randomly flip out on me in my DMs out of literally fucking no where, and purposely trigger my PTSD.

There's more, but I can't remember all of it because just so much went on.

Anyways, sometime after they left the server, people began coming forward with their experiences with accuser, telling all that he'd been doing in DMs, and mentioning his prior behavior on the server. We started venting about the way he had been treating us in the vents chat because well, we figured if we couldn't try to talk to him about his behavior, at least we could vent amongst ourselves. Apparently he had actually made a few friends on the server and they let him know we were talking about him.

Fast forward to my birthday celebration and I'm getting DMs from him. They start our fine enough but eventually he suggests we start a thing where we mention one positive thing that's happened to us each day. Cool, a fine idea on it's own, but as I've mentioned above, he's had the tendancy to make us feel like shit for having anything cool and fun in our lives, so of course me, and a few other people who apparently had received the same message, were hesitant.

I left him on read to think about it and also because, again, I was celebrating my birthday and I was about to blow out the candles on my cake and open gifts.

I don't remember all of what went down, and I don't seem to have access to the Instagram DMs anymore since I have him blocked on there too, but eventually, I received a message of him flipping out because he knew about our vents. I believe I might have ended up calling him out and telling him exactly why we were doing it, but I can't remember. This happened back in May so the memory is a bit fuzzy and I don't have the DMs anymore.

All I know is that most of the members of the server decided to cut him off.

After that, he tried to tell Wah I wasn't who I seemed to be and attempted to ruin our friendship, made several accounts to stalk the Instagram accounts of serveral other of the server members and I, and then we ended up having to kick a few of their friends from the server cause they were starting to cause trouble.

Then there was silence for a bit.

And then there was the incident. They had gotten a (at the time former) friend of ours involved by lying and manipulating them into believing I was doing all sorts of nasty shit. The friend, who I'm going to call Pasta, ended up bringing that stuff over to Tumblr, unaware that they had been lied to. I'm not sure if it was Pasta who reached out to us, or if it was one of us who reached out to Pasta, but we ended up telling them what was going on, and somehow, accuser found out, and accused them of being a traitor and freaked out on them. They admitted that accuser was responsible and we ended up making up.

I've also since then had some of accusers former friends come to me and tell me about the call-out, further confirming that it was them who started all this as a way to try and get back at me.

And, since of course some obligatory proof is required, I shall provide these call-out posts with some screenshots. And you can even see in the comments we're far from the only ones who have dealt with them.

These aren't the only things from them, obviously, but considering the fact that we've all now got them blocked and some of us have even deleted the DMs (because tbh, most of us thought that cutting them off would be the last of it), this is what we currently have.

Anyways, thanks for reading this long ass mess. Hope y'all stay safe.

[thesharondefenseleague]

Shit you right about the AoU doing civil war better. Like I never considered it but like that a way less contrived reason for them to fight. It makes total sense how they react both bring up good points and I agree with anon bout the whole argument in CW a bad one for a MCU movie. But the AoU argument works perfectly for a MCU movie fuck it was already there why not just expand on that one? Its even the thing Tony references in Endgame.

AoU answered the question already, and they set up that there was no need to do a CW story as fast as they did (it was, what, a year between them?), if at all.

The question of who should keep superpowered individuals in check was answered by AoU - the heroes should have the control. They are the only ones who understand what other powered individuals are going through, so they can help out the ones who need it. And the character this narrative is directed at happened to be the same one in both movies: Wanda.

In AoU, she’s dangerous, and she’s aware of it, and she’s mentally in a fragile enough place where she can be manipulated to sway either direction morally. This is how she is in the comics too, and the more fragile she is, the more damage she can cause. To tie this with CW (comic), the Thor-clone, Ragnarok, was the truly dangerous secret weapon that SHIELD unleashed that caused such mass damage that everyone is left traumatized and has to pause to rethink what they’re doing and if it’s right - Wanda unleashing Hulk to destroy a town.

[This is where everyone turns on Tony (and Hank and Reed, but in this movie it’s Bruce as his right-hand man) because his creations are killing people, and they need to stop him from creating something else that can kill, even though he doesn’t intend on it and just wants to stop all the chaos and destruction. And Tony’s relationship with everyday people in both the comics and to an extent the movies is what stops him from being considered a villain in the narratives, because he cares about them and saves them before they can get hurt in potential crossfire. Conversely, Steve’s mindset is more he thinks of the bad guy first, the civilians second, but he’s also still saving the day so he can’t be a villain. Which is why SHIELD/Maria was the true villain. And why it wasn’t a random HYDRA villain because are you kidding me you had to force one in god I hate this movie so much why does everything think its the best.]

Wanda feels awful about what she’s done, paired with finding out that she’s teamed with someone who wants to cause extinction, and flips to redemption. And the Avengers, looking at her and seeing the person who just fucked with their psyches and did quite a lot of damage, know how to help her. And they do. And though she’s still shaky, they see her value and want to help her. Which is what CW started to do, but they never answered that one either. AoU knew to rehabilitate her image and help her gain control over herself, CW wanted to say she’s not dangerous and shouldn’t be kept under strict watch, but also when she’s under stress she is dangerous and should be kept under strict watch. CW had too many stories and didn’t want to go fully into any of them, and this was one of the bigger misfires. Which is why during the comic event she was prancing around elsewhere and hooking up with Clint.

The ironic thing is that AoU was a story that shouldn’t have worked, because in order to do it, you couldn’t use any of the heroes. The Ultron storyline starts with Hank and Jan, two characters who weren’t introduced yet, and the actual AoU’s main characters are Sue Storm and Logan (and Hank, and whether or not we should kill him). It’s a story filled with alternate timelines and numerous falls of humanity. But CW had majority of the main players, a semi-decent secondary cast, and enough lore set up that they could have introduced so many characters to help out but just... didn’t do any of it.

Listen, I get it, the Russos love directing action scenes. And CW is a comic with a ton of action scenes. But imagine fucking up that story so bad that a year before, the movie with a face-in-tits-plant did it better by a world-renowned creep. It pains me so much to see that they set up a good Cap 3 in CW and buried it under all these moral questions that no one wanted to answer anyway.

I don’t have access to either movie, but I feel the urge to rewatch AoU and CW to point out how AoU did it better without meaning to.

(Remember when Avengers 3 was going to be the CW movie? And Cap 3 was going to be an actual Cap movie? And then they fired JW. And now we have to realize that if we had gotten the JW version... it would’ve been decent by comparison??? Or not, JL was pretty trash, so... but odds are it would’ve done a better job at the conflict part. Big yikes.)

~Mod R

[wolfsgravity]

I can’t sleep so I’m just thinkin’ about my range of Pokémon romantic F/Os. This series has meant so much to me for so long, and I know F/Os from that source make up a decent portion of my list. I’d feel more embarrassed about it if I didn’t make it abundantly clear that Pokémon is one of the most pervasive influences in my life from an exceedingly young age.

I just. I dunno. I find my collection of Pokémon series F/Os so interesting.

I’m just gonna ramble a bit.

I’m going to talk in Generational order, because my 1am brain couldn’t decipher a more cohesive timeline if it tried.

Giovanni is a funny one. As a kid, his character in the show intimidated me a little. But I really loved Team Rocket on some level. They were my first Pokémon villain organization, and with the Gen III games having Aqua and Magma, I decided pretty early that Team Rocket was my team. I had a stint in Magma since when I was young, I thought I’d specialize in Fire types, but eh it didn’t stick. No team really stuck nearly as much until Team Skull! So I had a lot of time for my intimidation from Giovanni to evolve into a fearful respect, to a mild devotion… by the time I played Let’s Go! and Ultra Moon, I was more than a little excited to see him in game. As in, I would quietly cheer when he appeared on my screen, in some weird giddy manner. It was only a matter of time before I realized I was crushing hard.

Steven Stone (he has a full name so more often than not I use it when referring to him) probably didn’t make the biggest impact on me in the original Gen III games? Hoenn was my favorite region for a while (in part due to pre- “Hoenn confirmed” hype), but he didn’t have a huge role in Ruby/Sapphire. Maybe I noticed him first in Emerald? I wish I could remember my real first inkling of crush on him, because I just remember when I played Omega Ruby… I was already obsessed with him. He showed up for the first time in game and I squealed. I spent the whole game seeking him out and already making romantic passes at him in my around-19-year-old head.

I am counting Grovyle for this, but it bears repeating that my S/I for the Pokémon Mystery Dungeon games is a Pokémon too. Those Mystery Dungeon games enamored me as a teen! I got to BE! A POKEMON!! So I probably got Explorers of Time/Darkness for DS not long after it released in 2008. I was so excited to have Gen IV Pokémon to be and battle and recruit, ugh, this game meant so much to me. I will always remember being part of Wigglytuff’s Guild super fondly. And like, as I am super susceptible to mental role play, putting myself in my characters shoes (or lil toe beans I guess) has always been second nature for me. So a dashing Grovyle just jumped into my silly life and was the most honorable and misunderstood character and I am not even joking when I say I fell for him in my first playthrough. And I’ve played through it a lot. I was always jealous of Celebi. I hate every Dusknoir I see to this day. *chefs kiss* Good game.

Gen V is “oops all F/Os” Gen, where to even start..

Just kidding, N is the obvious choice to start for me. He was love at first sight. He just, ugh, he cares about Pokémon SO MUCH. I literally don’t know how to even expand on this. He literally rode the Ferris Wheel with the player character in the game, and I WASNT supposed to interpret that as a date? Wack. It was a date. I love him so damn much. Next question

Elesa comes next because I’ve always thought she was stunning. I mean, duh I guess, she’s canonically a model. Also, Electric types are in my top 3, behind Fairy and somewhat tied with Fire, so she was a woman after my own heart. Her Emolga kinda wrecked my team and I respect that. Also, she loves puns. So again. Woman after my own heart. The only reason she’s still listed as Crush and not as Dating is because she intimidates me. She’s out of my league and I worry she’d only see me as a friend. Well, not “only”, her and Skyla are bffs and that also looks fun. I just. Can’t imagine her romantically being interested in me sometimes. Heh.

Grimsley was a crush that came on yeeeaaaars after his Gen, and it hit me like a freight train. I swear, he made very little impression on me in B/W, because I was young and I was just excited to possibly see N again as champion. I was a little shit, okay. I also never played B2/W2 all the way through, which is a huge stain on my Pokémon record. Anyways. When he showed up in Sun/Moon, I gasped. I was like, that’s a familiar face. Why is he hot now? (The answer is we was always hot, and I just had a few years to grow between games). But like, I kind of tamped it back down? I think I legit tried to tell myself around Sun/Moon era that I can’t keep finding Pokémon characters hot, because I was drooling over another one in Moon. Anywho. Grimsley kept popping up as fanart on my Tumblr dash for a while and by the time I pulled him in Pokémon Masters, I slipped into love. Whoops.

Professor Sycamore, probably not my proudest moment of fandom. He was another one I liked from the very introduction. I made fun of him in equal measure, but I affectionately referred to him as “Professor Hotdad” for an embarrassingly long amount of time. He’s not even the oldest of my Pokémon F/Os. One of my other Pokémon F/Os is canonically a father. But nope. Sycamore was Hotdad. That all said, he did make me smile like a crush-stricken schoolgirl when he talked in game so it wasn’t all just memey objectification. I do love him dearly.

Gen VII! Alola! Guzma! Oh man, like I’d stated earlier, Team Skull really nestled it’s way close to my heart the way no team had since Team Rocket. It wasn’t all because of Guzma, I really did like the group of ragtag misfits banding together and creating a family. Guzma was icing on the cake. Oh boy, he made my heart do funny little flips even when he was threatening me in game. I loved his design, I loved his character, the way he talked, I just. Ugh, I was down bad for ya boy in Moon and Ultra Moon. He’s actually the inspiration behind my main blog url: its-ya-boi-remington. The “Y’all are stupid!” line and face lives in my head rent free at all times. Guzma protection squad.

(Nanu isn’t a romantic so I won’t talk about him here, just know I’m not forgetting him!)

Leon was, believe it or not, my actual first Gen VIII crush. I saw that fashion disaster and felt a warm comfort from him. It didn’t help that I mentally read every character in Galar with some UK/British Isles accent, that sweetened the deal. I was actually gushing to a couple then-friends about Leon while we all played Sword/Shield together and they kind of mocked me about it. They chided me that Leon “doesn’t bat for my team” and said either of them would have a better chance with him if he were real. So I was a little downtrodden about Leon after that for quite a while. It wasn’t until a couple months ago when suddenly it hit me that A- He’s literally fictional and my version of him can like me regardless of what “team he bats for” and B- I’m nonbinary? So rules get thrown out the window, anyone who likes me is both a miracle and some kind of gay whatever way you spin it. So I let myself warm back up to him, though I’m still a little skittish from before.

Piers, I guess, as awful as it sounds, was initially a crush rebound. Like, don’t get me wrong, I’d have been attracted either way. He’s a musician, a SINGER no less, and has that emo/punk vibe. But he’s also gentle and kind. Swoon. But it helped that I had my crush-feelers out full-force for a cutie in game to obsess over since I was still butthurt about my “friends” killing my crush on Leon. Obsess I did, and continue to do. I could probably snap this man over my knee like firewood he’s so lanky, idk why I put that in here but it’s staying. Piers is the one I most imagine jamming out with on a regular basis, and it makes performing for no one a bit more fun 🥰

I’m finally getting tired, I feel like I’ve been typing this for an hour. I probably have been. Ah geez now I gotta tag all these F/Os lmao. Thanks for letting me ramble.

[flying-elliska]

Ok, I caught on to the last clips...😫😫😫 Bad shit is really starting now huh

To go over the Elu/Eliott drama first : yes what he is doing is dumb, no it's not ooc or irrealistic. He's only 19, under a lot of pressure, he clearly adores Lucas but doesn't want to weigh down their relationship. I can see him still idealizing what they have and wanting to keep it free from drama as a happy space ; at the same time he needs an outlet for his wilder side, especially at this time of his life where a lot of things are changing. Other have pointed out that he was in a toxic relationship for quite a while and he is probably used to people dismissing his needs and interests. I'll add that to me, hiding whole pans of your life because in part of mental illness is a very relatable coping mechanism. It's not healthy at all, but it's a way of regaining control when you feel it has been forcefully wrenched from you ; you learn to edit yourself to the more palatable parts so you can have some semblance of normalcy and before you know it, it becomes a reflex. And honestly I was an idiot at 19, and maladaptive coping behaviors like these are so hard to change, esp when they're rooted in place for survival reasons.

Of course it makes me sad, that Eliott doesn't feel like he can trust Lucas with this but again, he probably feels like asking Lucas for space is going to trigger his abandonment issues, not to mention completely flipping out at the idea that his boyfriend is out in the middle of the night doing illegal and highly risky shit. Like urbex isn't just some artsy quirky thing lol. It's highly probable that if he knew Lucas would either ask him to stop or would spend all his time worrying when Eliott was out.

We have had communication drama before but we have never seen Eliott work through his issues clearly before, so if that happens i am all for it (my main fear is that they will do it too quickly/not properly/in the background). Because I care about his character development, not just Elu, and that means having moments of serious down like Lucas had. That means really exploring his zone of darkness so that he can come out on the other side, and for Eliott that's definitely hiding things. I feel a lot of people in this fandom have this idealized image of the character as this perfect boyfriend who is allowed to cry prettily in the rain so that Lucas can come and save him, and that is such a narrow box to fit him in. Like...personally I always had this feeling that Elu would hit some rough patches once they were out of the honeymoon phase, they got together so young and both have such heavy baggage. Love doesn't magically solve all your issues, or make communication completely easy and fluid. I liked reading those comfort fanfics where once they got together it was all sunshine fluff and rainbows forever, but it always struck me as highly irrealistic. It doesn't ruin Elu for me, there is a lot of potential there, i just really hope they don't bungle it.

Also I find it obvious that Eliott empathizes with Lola and wants to help her, as an artsy outsider going through some rough shit that most people don't understand. He was alone with most of this shit, he probably wishes someone had helped him. It's depressing how quickly ppl twist that into sth else, and no throwing half of a second glance to her is not creepy (wtf). He is just such a different person around Lola and Lucas, how anyone can't see that contrast is mindboggling to me. We don't know entirely why yet but I think there is more backstory to come. I think Eliott's parents might have been a bit neglectful or didn't handle his MI in a great way. It's normal we don't know everything yet, Lola doesn't ! I have the feeling some people really want to be spoonfed everything right at the start and they can't deal w the fact that it's not a remake anymore where you already know most of what is coming so you call it "bad writing" bc you're not using your imagination/intuition/capacity to put 2 and 2 together like...

Anyway, for now i am still (cautiously) on board. I don't begrudge people being wary bc they have bungled a lot of promising storylines before. I just don't think they have yet with this one.

[xxpadfootxx]

🐾The Unexpected Wingman🐾

Summary: When your friends are so completely oblivious and hopeless when it comes to romance, you’ve got to push them together somehow. For Bakugo, that means by any means necessary

~~~

Izuku shuffled uncomfortably for the hundredth time that evening, his whole body on edge as he sat beside Ochako on the couch in the main dorm living space, the two trying to study for an upcoming exam. Despite his constant shifting, Ochako was too engrossed in her homework to notice, her face set in a calculated frown and her pencil tapping against her slightly parted lips as she analyzed her work. Izuku had been trying to work on the same project for the past hour but she was just so. damn. cute. How the hell was he supposed to focus when she was sitting so close to him, her outer thigh pressed inadvertently against his and her soft hair tickling his shoulder? He had tried to push the thoughts out of his mind but they had just come back with even more persistence, to his immense frustration. He needed to focus. He wasn’t too worried about this particular test, but he didn’t want to go into it blindly. Even though he had all of his books and papers spread out in front of him, he knew they wouldn’t be of much help if whenever he tried to remember the material he thought of Ochako instead.

“All righty, Deku,” Ochako said, snapping Izuku out of his reverie as she sat up and raised her arms above her head, the loud sound of her back popping echoing out. “I think I’m going to be done for the night. You should probably finish up sometime too, it’s getting late. Thanks for helping me study! I really needed help with those logarithms but now I’m not as worried!”

“It was no problem, Uraraka,” Izuku said, trying his hardest to fight the blush from rising in his cheeks as her warm smile lit up the room around them, making his heart pound. “See you later.”

“See ya!”

Izuku watched her leave, a look of longing in his eyes as she sashayed out of the room carrying all of her books. As soon as she rounded the corner, Izuku relaxed against the couch, throwing his pencil down on the coffee table in front of him in tired annoyance. He let out a sigh and ran his hands through his hair. He had had a crush on Ochako ever since she had kept him from falling flat on his face before the entrance exam that had only gotten stronger as he had become closer with her. But now it was starting to interfere with his hero studies. He had originally pushed any thoughts of romance away, not because he didn’t want a girlfriend, but because he wanted to focus entirely on achieving his dream of becoming the new Symbol of Peace. He had shoved down his feelings for the radiant girl deep into his heart and shelved it into a “never gonna happen” category. She was WAY out of his league and especially after their first year at U.A., her laser focus on becoming a hero started to rival even his own convictions. He didn’t want to get in the way of her dreams.

But now, the thought of pushing down his feelings was starting to fray at the seams. He struggled to think of anything besides Ochako nowadays. Izuku groaned and closed his eyes, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch as he tried to justify the problem in his head. He knew that the obvious answer would be to just tell her but he knew she would say no, his insecurities overflowing and leading to his fear of rejection, so he danced around that solution, trying to think of anything to give him at least some semblance of his sanity back. He sat like that for several minutes before finally giving up for the night, packing up his stuff and heading to his room as he concluded that he would just have to spend yet another day without her knowing his true feelings.

________________________

“Come on, Ochako! You HAVE to confess to him! What’re you waiting for!?” Mina squealed, her legs hanging over the end of Yaoyorozu’s bed.

Ochako covered her bright red face, desperately trying to cool the flames in her cheeks. She knew she shouldn’t have come to this little sleepover the girls had invited her to in Momo’s dorm. She loved them, but after accidentally letting it slip that she loved Izuku, she knew they would never stop pestering her.

“I can’t!”

“Why not?” Hagakure asked incredulously.

“Because he’s so amazing and so focused on being a hero! There’s no way he’d have time for a relationship! On top of that, he is way out of my league, there is no way he’d ever go for a girl like me.”

“Stop that!” Momo said sharply from where she was leaning against the pillows on her bed and brushing her hair. “You are just as amazing and Midoriya would be beyond lucky to have you as his partner.”

Ochako blushed at her friend’s words. She knew she shouldn’t put herself down but she just couldn’t help it. She knew her love was unrequited so what was the point of trying to make herself feel better about something that was never going to happen?

“Thanks, guys for being so sweet and trying to help but it’s just not going to work out. He’s much too busy, as am I. I just don’t want to be in his way,” Ochako said.

“You won’t be in his way!” Mina popped up again. “Are you kidding me? You guys have the same goal! You guys would totally help each other reach the top.”

“You really think so?”

“Oh my god, it is both a gift and a curse to see so clearly,” Mina said, causing the other girls to giggle a little.

“It wouldn’t really hurt just to find out, Ochako,” Tsu said softly, her finger pressed up against her chin in her signature thinking pose.

“But what if telling him makes our friendship weird?” Ochako asked quietly, staring at the floor as she sat on the edge of Momo’s bed.

“Come on, this is Midoriya we’re talking about! He’s not going to think about this too much. If he says no, I bet he’ll just go back to being normal friends with you the next day. Just so long as you don’t make it too overdramatic or weird then you guys should be fine. I know you love him but just so long as you also care for him as a friend, you should have all of the skills necessary to maintain your friendship with him,” Jirou said with a rare smile, giving her floaty friend a small pat on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Ochako said, still not entirely convinced.

The other girls eventually dropped the subject as they moved to watch a movie but Ochako still couldn’t stop doubting herself. What did she have to offer that he would ever want? She honestly didn’t even know if he was straight. She had no real reason to believe otherwise but she had never seen him show interest in any of the girls they were around, both in and out of Class 1-A. She tried to push the intrusive thoughts out of her mind as she turned her attention to the movie they had put on, wanting nothing more than to spend time with her friends and ignore the pit of despair and longing that had lodged itself in her heart.

____________________

Izuku gulped and raised his shaky fist up to the plain, unassuming door in front of him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He was still reeling from the fact that he had come to this decision in the first place but they say love makes you do crazy things. Finally steeling against his nerves, Izuku knocked on the door. He heard someone make their way to the door before it was flung open aggressively, revealing a very irritated Bakugo. Maybe now wasn’t the best time. Bakugo’s eyes narrowed once he saw who was on his doorstep.

“What do you want, you damn nerd?” Bakugo hissed.

“Um… Kacchan… I need your help with something,” Izuku said, his eyes darting to stare at the floor while his fingers twiddled mindlessly in front of him.

“Why the fuck would I want to help you?”

“Well um… you don’t have to, but I think you may be the only person who can really help me with this. Um… you know how you have been doing those weekly sparring sessions with Uraraka?”

Bakugo raised his eyebrow. The two had begun sparring shortly after the Sports Festival. Originally, Bakugo had been hesitant to work with her but Uraraka had been patient and kind with him, gently persuading him to work with her at least one time. It had eventually become a weekly regiment that Bakugo secretly enjoyed, the gravity girl containing much more skill than what meets the eye, allowing them both to expand on their quirks and hand to hand combat fighting skills. They had slowly developed a mutual respect for one another, the closest thing to a friendship the two had.

“Yes, of course, I know about the damn sparring sessions, what about them?”

“Well, since you’ve been spending so much time with her, I’ve noticed that you’ve learned a lot about her, what she is like, how she fights, how she uses her quirk-”

“Spit it out, Deku!” Bakugo snapped.

“Right! Sorry, um… do you think it would be reasonable to pursue a relationship with her?”

Bakugo was stunned for a minute, his eyebrows shooting up into his blonde hair. He had always guessed that the nerd had something for the gravity girl but he had never expected the kid to actually gain the balls to entertain the idea of courting her. Shaking himself out of his own jumbled thoughts, Bakugo looked down at Izuku.

“Tch, pathetic. I’m not gonna help you with some fucking love shit. Go ask someone who actually fucking cares.”

Bakugo then shut the door in Izuku’s face, leaving the green-haired boy down-trodden and tired. He let out a sigh of defeat. He knew he could ask any of his other friends but even Iida didn’t know Ochako like Bakugo and Izuku did. He could ask one of Ochako’s girlfriends but he was worried about them saying something to Ochako while they gushed about it. Padding back out into the main living space, Izuku tried to look as put together as possible and move on with the rest of his day. When Ochako smiled at him with the smile that always made the room feel several degrees warmer, Izuku felt the pit in his stomach increase and his heart flip as he mentally marked the day as another unsuccessful attempt of asking Ochako out.

_________________

The series of loud, furious pounding on his door later that evening made Izuku jolt in his chair where he had been trying once again to study for his exams. Standing up and making his way over to the door, he was surprised to see Bakugo standing on the doorstep, a determined glare in his eyes.

“Oh hey, Kacc-”

“Shut up and follow me,” Bakugo said before spinning on his heel and walking away, not checking to see if Izuku was following him. Izuku trotted after him, unsure of what was happening but unwilling to turn Bakugo down just in case it was something serious.

The explosive blonde made his way through the winding halls of the dorms and out the main entrance towards the U.A. school building.

“Kacchan where are we-”

“I said shut up!”

The pair scurried down the sidewalk and up to the side doors of the school, where Bakugo pulled out a small keycard and pressed it to the scan reader, allowing them in.

“I borrowed it from Aizawa so we could access the library,” Bakugo grumbled at Izuku’s shocked expression.

The boys then wound their way through the corridors until they arrived at the library. Bakugo used the keycard again and shoved Izuku inside, slamming the door behind them.

“Kacchan what is going on here?”

“I changed my mind.”

“What?”

“I changed my mind.”

“About what?”

“About the whole romance thing. I just didn’t want to talk about it with our other classmates there,” Bakugo snarled.

Bakugo then moved over to one of the work tables and sat down, gesturing curtly for Izuku to do the same. Wasting no time, Izuku sat down across from his childhood friend and rival.

“So what was it you wanted to ask me?” Bakugo asked. “I wasn’t really paying attention before, I don’t usually care for romance stuff.”

“Oh, I was just wondering, since you’ve spent the most time with Uraraka if she has ever mentioned wanting to be in a relationship.”

“No, she hasn’t said anything to me, why do you ask?” Bakugo said, his gruff voice echoing throughout the empty library.

“Because… I’m in love with her,” Izuku mumbled.

“I didn’t hear that last part, speak up, you fucking moron,” Bakugo snapped.

“I’M HOPELESSLY IN LOVE WITH HER!” Izuku yelled out in compensation for his nerves.

Bakugo looked at him with a slightly shocked, slightly amused expression.

“Well, I don’t know anything about romance, but if I were you, I’d just tell her how you feel.”

“But she’s not going to say yes, she’s way too good for me! I mean, look at her, she’s gorgeous, smart, talented, strong, stunning… I don’t deserve that! I feel like such a coward because I want to tell her how I feel so bad, but I don’t want it to ruin our friendship or break her focus on being a hero.”

“While I agree with you that she is way too good for you, I still think you should tell her. You might be surprised,” Bakugo said.

“I don’t know, I’m just so afraid of rejection. It’s stupid and childish, I know, but I just, care about her so much, I don’t really want to see the look of disgust in her eyes when she realizes that I’M the kind of guy she attracted,” Izuku said softly, letting his insecurities get the best of him.

“Well if you ask me, she doesn’t look very disgusted right now,” Bakugo said, his eyes glinting with mischievous amusement.

Izuku froze, his eyes widening as Bakugo’s words sank in. Turning ever so slowly, Izuku rotated in his chair to find Ochako standing behind him, her arms full of books. Her eyes were wide and her lips were parted with surprise, the corners of her mouth twitching as if she were trying not to smile or cry or both.

Izuku closed his eyes as his face flushed in embarrassment. So that’s why Bakugo dragged him all the way to the library. He knew Ochako was going to be here getting books for her project and brought him here to force him to confess. He looked up when he felt a rough hand on his shoulder.

“Your welcome, brat. You owe me now and I’m not doing this again. But I think you two will make each other happy. Just remember that if you hurt her, you’ll be nothing more than a stain on the ground, got it?”

Izuku nodded as a slight shiver ran down his spine at his friend’s low threat. Bakugo then stood up and made his way to the doors, patting Ochako’s shoulder supportingly on his way out. He may be aggressive most of the time, but he could also be rather gentle with those he cared about. He held no romantic feelings for the gravity girl, but he had grown to respect and even care for her in their time spent together and he was determined to keep her happy. For competitive reasons, of course.

“So… Deku? Did-did you really mean it?” Ochako asked softly.

Izuku looked up. Damn, she looked so adorable in her small skirt and button-up white blouse. The light from the sunset outside set her beautiful hair on fire, her whole face glowing in the evening light. It took Izuku’s breath away.

Standing up, Izuku made his way over to her. Looking deeply into the dark brown eyes he loved so much, he reached out and gently grabbed one of her smooth hands, cringing slightly as he realized how rough and scarred his own hands were.

“Every word,” Izuku said. He was still afraid of rejection but he knew that since he had already confessed, albeit, on accident, he had to go all the way.

“All this time…” Ochako whispered to herself. “All this time, I thought it was unrequited.”

Izuku’s heart leaped up in his throat at her words. He felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes but he forced them back. Now was not the time to get emotional.

“You-you like me back?” Izuku asked, almost tempted to pinch himself to make sure it wasn’t a dream.

Ochako didn’t respond, she merely reached up to cup his face in both hands and bring his lips down to hers. The movement of their mouths against each other was inexperienced and clumsy at first, but they eventually got used to one another and it felt so good, finally being able to hold each other like they had both dreamed of doing. Izuku suddenly gasped as he felt his world turn upside down… literally.

Ochako opened her eyes and snorted as she tried to hold back a laugh.

“I’m so sorry, Deku,” Ochako said in between barely suppressed giggles as she stared at Izuku, floating upside down in front of her.

Izuku began to laugh too before grabbing her face and kissing her this time, completely ignoring the fact that he was hanging upside down in front of her. He felt her smile against his lips and couldn’t help but beam at her, his eyes so full of love for the girl in front of him.

Unbeknownst to the two new lovers, several pairs of eyes were watching them from the library windows.

“Oh my god finally!” Mina whispered excitedly as the girls of class 1-A crowded around to gush at the new couple.

“Tch, who cares?” Bakugo said, turning away from the window with a look of disgust on his face.

“Oh don’t act all tough now, big guy, if you didn’t care you wouldn’t have interfered. You’re happy they’re together and you know it!” Hagakure said happily.

Bakugo grumbled incomprehensibly but didn’t protest, sneaking glances at the pair inside, watching as Ochako helped Izuku down and the two embraced once more. The tiniest smirk flitted across Bakugo’s features.

“Not bad, you damn nerd,” Bakugo whispered, his eyes following the new lovers making their way back to the dorms, the moon shining down on them from where it was just peeking over the edge of the horizon.

“Not bad at all.”