#i think the worst offense is shops like this one specifically where

[sleepsucks]

[pentechnics]

A Little Leap

Chapter 9 of Latch

Summary: The long-awaited night is here, and both you and Din struggle with casting your cautions aside. Will it hinder your time together?

Pairing: Firefighter!Din Djarin x f!Reader

Series Masterlist

Notes: Very long awaited, but hopefully worth it. And not even a power outage could stop me from getting it out today! Poured a lot of love into this one and I'm so excited to see what you all think of it! Sending you all so much love and well-wishes!!

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~~~~

A few days later, Din was stepping back into Lando’s shop and greeting him with a handshake. Lando led him to the back where a rack of black garment bags hung, plucking out two and handing them to him. “Here we are, all set for you.”

“Two?” Din pointed to the second bag. “I only bought one.”

“Luke had me make up another for you. He noticed you liked the brown one, too.”

Lando winked and pressed them into Din’s hands. Din glanced between him and the suits, unsure of what to say. How did Luke do that without him noticing?

“... Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Lando nodded and waved as Din made his way out of the boutique.

Din hung the garments in the back seat of the car and clambered inside with a huff. During the drive back he rehearsed what he’d say to Luke upon his return – why’d you do that? How’d you do that? What the hell, you didn’t have to do that. 

Din sighed. That kid was too giving for his own good.

He tried to keep an air of authority as he stepped through the front door and dramatically held out his two garment bags. He threw a stern glare at a gleeful Luke, who was sitting on the couch, not affected by Din in the slightest.

“... I don’t pay you enough to be doing things like this.”

Luke just laughed. Din gulped down his annoyance, standing up straighter in an attempt to keep up his angry demeanor.

“Relax, it’s a gift! It’ll come in handy.”

“Luke,” Din warned.

“Mr. Djarin, I promise, that is the last sort of intervention I plan to do.” He lifted his palm into the air. “You have my word.”

Din gave him a solid nod and made his way to the bedroom.

“It better be.”

~~~~~

“Your nerves are understandable. Is there any specific thing you’re worried about?”

You shifted in your seat before returning Dr. Jinn’s gaze. Each little thing seemed to pile together: some rational, some very much not. And more came with each passing day. What if he stood you up? What if you said something stupid? What if you spill your drink all over him?

“I just… I’m not sure what to expect. I’m not a big date person, I haven’t been on very many good ones in the past.”

“Ah, so because you really like him, you’re extra worried about it not going well?”

A bullseye, as usual. But damn, did he have to say it so bluntly each time? You nodded.

“I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Let me ask you this,” he tapped his pen against his knee as he spoke. “Do you think you were the reason those other dates were bad?”

You thought about it. One person made offensive jokes. Another turned out to be cheating on someone with you. One stared at the waiter’s ass the whole time. You winced at the memories.

“I guess most of them were out of my control.”

He gave a slight grin.

“Then I think it’s safe to say you won’t screw anything up.”

“… But what if he does?”

He paused, taking in your expression before asking, “What do you think is the worst thing that could happen during this date?”

A bead of anxiety led to sadness, shame, and anger. It wouldn’t be the total end of the world, but it would hurt as if it was.

“... Him not showing up. Or changing his mind.”

“Okay. Solid concern. Now tell me this: when you think about him, what are the biggest traits that stand out to you?”

Flashes of his face and of conversations the two of you shared ran through your mind. Those kind eyes and warm smile took over your senses, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine.

“... He’s kind,” you began, “and smart.”

Grogu entered your mind’s eye.

“...And he seems really loyal to the people in his life.”

“Seems like a great guy.”

You smiled and nodded.

“So, you’ll just have to take a little leap. Trust that he’ll come through.”

You stared at your lap. He was right. But just how were you meant to do that?

“Is that something I can learn to do in two days?” you asked with a dry laugh.

Dr. Jinn shrugged.

“Personally, I don’t think it’s something anyone is ever done learning. But we all have to start somewhere.”

~~~~

Din straightened his collar in the mirror, letting out a huff that made the tip of his hair bounce up.

He took in the sight of the grey suit in the mirror, hoping to summon that same magical feeling he got wearing it for the first time in Lando’s boutique. He turned around to face Grogu’s crib.

“What do you think, kid?”

Grogu smiled up at him from his standing perch, patting the edge of the crib with his hand. Din chuckled and went over to lift him out and carry him into the living room.

“Luke will be here any minute. You better be good to him, okay?”

Grogu laid his head down onto Din’s shoulder in response, wrapping his arms around him as much as they’d allow.

Din stopped in his tracks. Little waves of warmth and love flowed through him; he held Grogu close and basked in it. 

Something seemed odd – typically, Grogu would cling like this and whimper when he wanted support. Then Din would’ve doubled down and stay home for him.

But this seemed different. Grogu was silent, save for a few gentle, happy coos. It was as though Grogu was trying to tell him something else. To ease his worries. It had Din swallowing a sudden lump in his throat.

This was hard. Leaving him was always hard. But as Din ran his hands through Grogu’s little curls, the prickly, heavy anxiety began to slowly loosen its grip.

He gave Grogu a kiss on the cheek just as Luke knocked on the door.

Deep breath. It’s now or never.

“All right, buddy, wish me luck.”

Grogu giggled and tapped his hand against Din’s chin, making him chuckle.

During the drive, Din couldn’t help the way his muscles seized. Every alarm bell in his system was ringing – not the way they usually did when he was away from Grogu, but something insistent and foreign. Good signs or bad, he couldn’t tell.

The evening sent a chill through his half-open window. The sky poked through the high-rises, its colorful clarity a direct contrast to the electric storm brewing inside him.

His mind was jumping from place to place – anxious, guilty, excited – they all melded together and created a dizzying new emotion he wasn’t sure how to name. Din was no stranger to running into a situation he wasn’t familiar with, but something about this seemed so much more fragile. It had more variables than he was used to. Larger margin for error, and less room for it. He resisted the urge to hit his head against the steering wheel to get his brain to shut up.

When he parked in front of your building and stepped out onto the curb, he forced himself to take a breath. One feeling at a time, one worry at a time.

Grogu’s okay. Focus on her.

It’ll be good. She’ll be happy to see you.

You look fine. Stop thinking about your stomach.

The voice speaking to him was collected and confident next to his racing heart. He chanted the words over and over again in his head, breathing in time with them until he could muster up the nerve to pull out his phone. He glanced at the clock – per Luke’s instructions, he had arrived ten minutes early.

Won’t she feel rushed, though? He’d asked. What if she needs more time?

Trust me, Luke had said. You’re the one who’s going to need it.

Damn that boy. Why was he always right? Din allowed himself a few more minutes of nervous pacing and obsessive jacket-pulling before opening up his messages.

~~~~

You sat in front of your mirror, making your final preparations before Din was due to arrive. Dress was on, accessories were added, and now it was time to wait. Your phone sat on the bathroom counter, taunting you. He’d be texting you any second now.

You were putting essentials into your little wristlet purse. Your hands were shaking, each little item struggling to get into the opening.

A thousand pep talks and reminders to breathe from Harley couldn’t even scratch the surface of your brain without interference. It was like you were shut off from your fear sector, unable to soothe it even if you wanted to. You stared at their messages of encouragement blankly before shutting your eyes and heaving a deep sigh.

Even though he really didn’t seem like the type, you couldn’t shake your fears of Din running away. Deciding he didn’t want to do this, that he didn’t want to see you. It took everything you had to not cancel first and beat him to the punch. And yet every time you snuffed the temptation, part of you wondered if you’d regret it later.

‘You’ll just have to trust him a little.’

As if on cue, Dr. Jinn’s voice rang through your mind like a bell. A soothing chime that cut through all of the abrasive, self-destructive noise. It reminded you of what you were meant to be trying. The clog inside you was pushing to be cleared – you just needed to help it along.

You rose from your spot and wandered into the living room, phone now cradled in your hand. The evening was settling in and basking its iridescent glow upon the city, the buildings surrounding your apartment cloaked in its blues, purples, and pinks. You thought about Din, about the memories you’ve already made together. His smile, his laugh… 

… His baby.

You clutched your phone in your fist as another wave of anxiety pulsed through you. What would you do if you messed this up? The mental image of Grogu’s smiling face had your heart singing – what if you never got to see him again?

But then again, when did this date become the make-it-or-break-it of this whole thing?

It’s not as though this would be the first time you and Din sat together and talked. You’d done that several times at Cal’s. You had no reason to believe this wouldn’t be just like that, right? Calming, fun, and easy. You let out a slow breath, shoulders drooping down with it.

Yeah, that’s all this is, you told yourself. Just another fun meet-up across the counter. 

Your phone buzzed.

With a jolt, tension returned to your muscles as you looked at the screen. He was here.

It was time.

Shit.

You texted back with frantic fingers, running to grab the last of your things and put on your shoes before heading out the door – but not before taking one last glance out the window.

The calm of dusk, an everlasting being of promise and beauty. The dull quiet in your apartment, a guaranteed comfort when you returned, regardless of what happened.

Certainties you could hold onto in a world of unknowns.

You pushed yourself out the door.

~~~~

You focused on each breath as the elevator made its painfully slow descent. You patted your dress, your head, your purse, anything that could possibly fall out of place between now and the lobby.

Part of you began to wonder where he’d be taking you. Him taking the reins on those details was a welcomed surprise; you couldn’t help feeling pampered by the prospect of not having to make that decision.

A smile tugged on your cheeks as the elevator signaled your arrival to the lobby. You sucked in one more breath and squeezed your bag. Here goes nothing.

You walked out and made it a whole five steps before almost tripping over your feet.

He was a vision: standing outside beside his car, leaning against the passenger side. Hands in his pockets. Gaze turned to the side. His suit was perfectly tailored to him, outlining his broad shoulders and full hips. Those arms that could rip his uniform into shreds were less of a threat to the suit jacket, though still made their presence known. The stubble on his face was short but visible, and it gave his jawline even more of a sharp edge. He turned and gave a small grin at the sight of you.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and regained your footing.

“Hi,” you greeted as you stepped out the door. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Not at all,” he said, hands slowly making their way out of his pockets. “You look… “

He trailed off for a moment, glancing down at your dress before meeting your eyes again.

“... Amazing.”

You swallowed again, the heat in your face making it harder to breathe.

“So do you.”

You couldn’t help stealing another glance at that marvelous suit, subconsciously biting your lips together in hopes of keeping your cool.

“Thank you.”

You returned his gaze upon hearing his voice, letting yourself get lost in them. Any semblance of nerves that had just been assaulting you were long gone, like you’d been in a crowded room, and he was the one to walk in and make every voice fall silent.

Who could blame them? He left you speechless, too.

After a moment he cleared his throat and opened the car door for you.

“Shall we, then?”

You smiled at the gesture and climbed in, your heart already aflutter. Who knew people still opened car doors for each other?

You watched him walk around and get into the driver’s seat, phone in hand.

“I’m a little embarrassed at having to use the GPS to get there,” he said with a chuckle.

“Don’t be!” You laughed. “Everyone needs the help sometimes.”

He glanced up at you before resuming his search, a small dust of color brimming on his ears.

Once the GPS began to speak, he pulled onto the road.

“I don’t recognize the name of the restaurant,” you commented, rubbing your thumb along the back of your opposite hand. “Have you ever been?”

“No, actually. I don’t go out very much.”

“Me, either,” you nodded.

“New for us both. That’ll be nice.”

He pulled up to a stoplight and turned away from the road to look at you.

“Yeah, that will be nice.” You said with a smile.

An unspoken feeling passed through you: uncharted, exciting, deep. By the way Din looked at you, you’d swear he was feeling the same thing. His eyes seemed to be speaking for him again – a language you were so desperate to learn. Yet at the same time, it felt as though the message was crystal clear.

The light turned green, but the spell didn’t break. Somehow, without even having to look at you, those eyes were still relaying their words. The comfortable silence between you was so loud with them that it was almost too much to bear.

Din ended up driving you to a separate sector of downtown from where Cal’s and the Mark were located. A spring of joy lit up inside you; this was an area you never got to explore.

When Din pulled into a parking spot, he rushed to undo his seat belt.

“Hang on.”

You halted your hands from reaching for the door handle and instead watched him jog over to open it again for you. A wide smile sprouted on your face. What a precious gentleman.

You glanced at the hand he held out for you before placing yours in it. Just as it had the last time, back in Cal’s, electricity shot through you. There was a slight jolt in his grip before he pulled you to your feet, giving your hand the slightest squeeze before letting it go.

You instantly missed his warmth.

He pointed the way after locking the car and the two of you walked side by side. You held tight to your bag, still unsure of what physical boundaries should be kept. You glanced at his hand, dangling along his side. It swayed with his movements.

How nice would it be if it just stayed wrapped around yours?

Upon approaching the restaurant, he opened that door for you as well, making you giggle.

“Will you be opening all my doors tonight?”

“... Is that okay?”

The concern that clouded his eyes made you wish you hadn’t said a word. You smiled and held out a hand towards him.

“Of course, yes! I’m just not used to it is all.”

You paused and looked at your feet, nerves threatening to keep the next words from escaping your mouth.

“It makes me feel really special.”

He let out a breath. You watched the tension dissipate from his shoulders and a calmness come over his expression. 

“I’m glad.”

He turned from you and greeted the approaching waiter.

You took the moment look around. The restaurant was quaint and elegant, warm yellow lighting reflecting off the maroon walls. Wide open dining areas and a dancing area down a farther hallway. Shimmering chandeliers dangled from above and reflected constellations off themselves.

It was gorgeous.

When the waiter grabbed two menus, you began to prepare yourself. Your heart was pounding deep and loud – a boisterous show of its limits.

And the evening had only just begun.

~~~~

Light chatter surrounded you both as you sat at the intimate little table for two, waiting for your orders. The candle sitting between you made Din glow; specks of yellow danced across his face, making his eyes shimmer. He was looking out the window, his side profile made ever sharper by the contrasting shadows.

“It looks so other-worldly outside,” he said, “... does that sound weird?”

His voice snapped you out of your trance.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head.

You took a glance out the window, taking in the pale city lights as they twinkled against the dark backdrop of the encroaching night. As cars drove past, the headlights would briefly splatter the surrounding surfaces. It was like several little light shows just for the two of you.

“I see what you mean. It’s kind of magical.”

He turned to you and grinned. His eyes betrayed a hint of embarrassment.

The waiter came by and set your food before you both. Din cleared his throat and glanced about the room until they walked away.

The smell immediately graced your nose, making you breathe in a deep dose of it. Your stomach grumbled its approval just before you both began eating. You were grateful for the food – it gave you something to do when you couldn’t think of what to say.

Clinking silverware and padded footsteps of passing waiters filled the air. You glanced up at Din between bites – he would either be pecking at his food or glancing out the window, seemingly wringing his hands together.

Good to know he was also nervous, though it left you unsure of how to break the tension. You took another bite and thought back to the pep-talk you gave yourself.

Just another chat across the counter.

You took a sip of your water and set down your cutlery.

“How’s Grogu doing?”

His eyes darted to you, expression a little lost.

“Oh- he’s… good.”

“No more fevers, I hope.”

That got him to smile a bit.

“No, he’s okay. He’s actually been really active lately.”

“Yeah?” Tell me more.”

He did. And as he spoke, his demeanor shifted. The weight left his shoulders, the buzzing air calming. You could swear you were actually at Cal’s, and he was sitting at the counter. You couldn’t help smiling – at both his and Grogu’s cuteness.

Conversation flowed much more easily after that, the evening drifting along with it. He made you laugh, you made him blush, and everything in the world made sense.

Before either of you knew it, the waiter had left the check on the table and at least a solid two hours had passed. Din didn’t even entertain the notion when you lifted your little purse to help pay, giving you a good laugh and another flutter of the heart.

The two of you walked out into the night soon after, you nursing leftovers in your hand. The walk to the car was slow and peaceful, the breeze a relief on your beaming cheeks. When you reached the car, you stopped Din with a hand on his forearm before he could open the door.

“Hey-” you looked up at him. “Do you want to…”

You gulped. You didn’t want the night to end just yet. But what would happen if he said no? Just imagining the awkwardness made you want to run away. He glanced down at your hand before meeting your eyes again.

“... walk around a bit?” he finished for you.

You nodded with a smile, hoping the utter mental pain you were enduring wasn’t visible in your expression. He straightened up and took your to-go box out of your hands.

“That sounds nice. Let’s drop this off, then.”

The relief was so sweet yet drastic. You sighed with a small laugh and gave his forearm a little squeeze.

~~~~

The walk reminded you of that spontaneous arcade day the two of you shared, yet this was somehow even sweeter.

The night was rich with energy. Light spilled onto the sidewalks from the little shops that lined the streets, a slight breeze whisking around you, and a healthy flow of words still running between you. Din’s voice grew just a bit more animated than it had been at the start of the night, and you reveled in the soothing sound of it.

One shop caught your eye: a little ice cream parlor, painted in creamy pastels and boasting a host of flavors, with indoor decor that was reminiscent of a vintage diner. You couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the sugary vanilla scent. You turned to Din with a grin.

“Do you want some dessert?”

He stared at you with wide eyes and hesitated. A beat passed before he gulped and tore his gaze from you to look at the list of flavors outside the door.

“Sure—yeah, let’s do it.”

You insisted on paying once flavors had been selected, mirroring what he had done in the restaurant.

It took him all but five minutes to finish his. You weren’t even at your cone yet.

You looked between your hand holding your ice cream and his empty one crumpling a napkin across the little circular table. Gesturing between them, you gave him a puzzled look.

“How?”

He just shrugged with a chuckle. You shook your head and continued to dive into your cone.

“Oh, hey- you’ve got something right there…”

He gestured to the side of his lip. Fighting off the embarrassment, you tried to wipe it off with your hand.

“Did I get it?”

He shook his head. You tried again. Whatever it was continued to elude you, leading Din to reach for a new napkin.

“May I?”

You laughed at your own helplessness and scooched your chair closer to him. 

He met you halfway and wiped at the edge of your mouth. Even through the layers between you, his fingers burned into your skin. You couldn’t help staring at the concentrated expression he held, your muscles freezing up under his touch. He drew closer and continued on his mission to clear off the ice cream, though the napkin just felt dry against your skin. His thumb darted out to caress your cheek, and you gasped at the touch.

He had to stop teasing you like that. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself otherwise.

His gaze slowly made its way up from your lips until it met yours, his eyes giving you that familiar sensation of being effortlessly dissected.

How do his eyes do that, you wondered.

“… How do you do that?”

You may not have meant to voice your thoughts, but no regret followed.

“Do what?”

“it’s just that- I don’t know, every time you look at me, it’s like you’re staring into my soul.”

He let out a soft laugh.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you quickly added, “I’ve just never experienced it before.”

He leaned back the slightest bit, his hand falling from your face.

“You do something similar, you know. It’s like there’s…”

He leaned in again and squinted a bit, peering even deeper. You jumped a bit in your seat, the sudden proximity sending a jolt through your veins.

“… I can’t quite explain it, but they’re pretty incredible.”

His voice was soft and quiet, as if speaking too loudly would break the moment.

You melted into his gaze, losing yourself chasing the shining stars that made up its inner galaxy. A deep warmth ran through you, and you couldn’t help smiling. He returned the expression, his eyes crinkling.

You could look at that face all night.

The rest of your ice cream sat abandoned in your hand, the slight sensation of it dripping onto your hand the only indication that anything else still existed.

“Oh-”

Din bounced back into action to clean you up, leaving you to careen back to Earth’s surface. The chatter of other customers, the faint music in the background, it all came rushing back too fast.

“Better get a jump on this if you don’t want to end up doused in ice cream soup,” he said with that beautiful grin.

It was hopeless. Hardly anything had happened, and yet… You were trapped in his orbit.

~~~~

Your throat was so sore by the time Din was driving you home, hours having passed by without you. You were certain you’d never talked to someone for so long before.

The fatigue was showing on his face as well, in the form of tired eyes and deeper sighs.

“I’m sorry to have kept you out so late,” you said.

“Oh, please, don’t be.” He stole a glance before returning his attention to the road. “I had a great time with you.”

Like a blanket straight from the dryer, you were wrapped in that sweet feeling again.

“Likewise.”

He smiled with his teeth for the briefest of moments.

Moments later he was pulling the car into park in front of your building and popping out to open your door one more time for the night.

You looked up to see him staring at the ground with his hand outstretched, that adorable red tint decorating his ears. You smiled and let him pull you out of the car, but this time he didn’t step away.

Your heartbeat quickened without your permission, sending a flurry of butterflies through your gut. You were craning your neck the slightest bit, eager to take in his features from this close up, despite the growing clamminess in your hands.

His gaze was slower to meet yours; he took his time examining you, starting from your shoes and working his way up. When he did catch your eyes, something in his stance deflated. And his smile once again took all the remaining breath from your lungs.

“I meant it,” he all but whispered, “I… had a really great time tonight.”

“Me too,” your voice came out quieter than intended, matching his. “Maybe we could do it again sometime?”

“I’d like that.”

He gave your hand a squeeze.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Your smile was hurting your cheeks, but the pain was barely registering. The crisp night air whisked around you both, as if sweeping away everything else until all you could focus on was Din.

He took up your entire field of vision, your every sensation, each breath you tried to take.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You placed your free hand on his shoulder, giving yourself enough leverage to pull him towards you and plant a kiss on his cheek.

Your entire body was heating up, your lips tingling. His skin was so soft, the slight scratch of his stubble a pleasant sensation.

His eyes betrayed surprise, blinking a few times before regaining their focus. He gulped and looked back down to the ground between you both, the red tint stretching to his cheeks.  

God, he was so cute.

A big gust of wind broke the moment, making you shiver. His face immediately shifted to concern.

“Oh, are you cold?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Just a bit. I guess that’s my cue.”

You gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go and retrieving your leftovers from the car.

He closed the car door when you stepped away, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

“Good night, Din. Thank you for everything.”

He smiled at you, giving a small nod in your direction.

“Good night.”

One last look at him before you forced your feet to start moving. Every instinct in you tried to pull you back to him, but you had to press on.

The heated building began to thaw you out, but it was nothing compared to him. You didn’t stop until you got to the elevator, the curb thankfully out of view to keep you from running right back outside.

Every moment, every feeling, it all came crashing down on you all at once. Right there inside the moving metal box. You had to lean against the wall to catch yourself.

What a night.

~~~~

Your apartment was dark. The city lights still penetrated through your windows, illuminating select areas and helping your brain adjust, but you were still left fumbling for the light switch.

Your movements were almost robotic as you toed off your shoes, put away your food, closed the curtains, and made your way to the bedroom. You plopped your purse down and stared at yourself in the mirror.

Okay, I’m wearing the dress, so none of that was a dream.

You changed into your nightwear and took a seat on the couch, blankly turning on the TV and letting the white noise fill the space.

Your mind was so overwhelmed with how much the two of you had spoken, yet it still didn’t feel like enough. By the end of it all, you still wished it didn’t have to end.

You brushed your fingers over your cheek, where the invisible indent of his hand still remained. Warm, strong, and soft – that’s how his hands felt. Just the memory of them had your skin tingling again.

Magic. It was the only word that could describe the night. Something about it all was just pure magic.

You sighed. You’d never been more eager to see someone again. To feel that enchanting bliss again. It seemed so foolish, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You lifted up your phone – it’d definitely be too much to message him now, no matter how much you wanted to. Some self-control had to be practiced.

You elected instead to put on Golden Girls, your muscles relaxing as the familiar score began to play. You reached over to your side table and pick up your most recent read: Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand. Funnily enough, the story involved a new love for the titular character.

But for the first time in a while, the pages went on without you. You made it through the first few pages before the train derailed. The words were there, your eyes moved over them, but you weren’t encoding a single one. Your mind’s eye projected those eyes, that suit, the gorgeous smile, all over the page.

You shook your head. Maybe if this chapter involved Jasmina rather than the discomforting country club group, it would apply more to your mind’s incessant stick to the topic of romance.

“Sorry, Major,” you whispered as you closed the book. “Even you can’t compete right now.”

The girls were chatting over cheesecake when you picked up your phone again, scrolling aimlessly until you decided the only way to calm yourself down enough to go to bed was to expel everything.

The phone only rang twice before Harley picked up, skipping every pleasantry and going right into the, “Tell me everything.”

~~~~

Luke turned to the next page in his book, readjusting in the chair as he did so.

The apartment had been quiet, blanketed in the yellow glow of Din’s floor lamp since Grogu fell asleep. The perfect backdrop to get engrossed in a book and forget where he was.

The one thing to break his trance was the gentle rustling of the front door. Luke looked up and checked his phone – the 11:55pm timestamp had him slightly recoiling in disbelief.

When Din walked through the door, Luke closed his book and gave him a smile.

“Welcome back,” he said, “How’d it go?”

Din shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it on the sofa. He plopped down, leaned on his knees, and ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. When he sat back up, Luke noted the flush in his cheeks, the shine in his eyes, and couldn’t help grinning.

“That good, huh?”

Din shook his head.

“I don’t even know what happened. She’s… just incredible.”

Luke had never seen Din like this. Sure, he was quiet, but this was fully tongue-tied. A blissful tone was evident in his worn-out voice.

As quick as it came, though, it vanished. Din’s expression narrowed.

“Wait, how long has he been asleep?”

Ah. Dad mode was back.

“A few hours,” Luke said with a shrug. “It is almost midnight.”

Din straightened up.

“What? I was gone that long?”

“It’s okay, Mr. Djarin, he’s completely fine.”

“I’ve never missed bedtime on a day off. Are you sure he was okay?”

“Yes,” Luke said, moving to sit next to Din on the sofa. “I promise, he’s great. Besides, he goes to bed at eight. Even if you were home earlier, there’s no way you’d have been back that early.”

Din leaned back until he collided with the backrest, slightly shaking his head.

Luke internally sighed. Just when he thought the guilt would stay away…

He turned in his seat to face Din and got his attention with a hand to his shoulder.

“Mr. Djarin, listen to me. I want you to think about how you felt being out tonight. How you felt being on that date.”

Din eyed Luke before turning his gaze to his lap.

“You don’t have to say anything – just think.”

Din closed his eyes, his chest slowly inflating and deflating with deep breaths.

In the time he’d known Din, Luke had never seen him do anything for himself. Everything he ever did, he did for Grogu. It was hard to see him like this, almost punishing himself for the smallest deviation.

The best way out of this for now, Luke reasoned, was to reframe it in a way that included Grogu.

“Now, don’t you think Grogu would enjoy hearing about those feelings? Won’t it be nice to tell him all about this tomorrow?”

Din’s gaze rose back up to him.

“You’ll see for yourself, he’s going to love that you went out and did so much. He is going to love seeing you happy.”

Din gave a small nod, though there was still a hint of doubt in his expression. He sat up and let out a puff of air.

“Can I ask you something, Luke?”

Luke straightened up with a nod.

“Why are you helping me so much?”

“What do you mean?” Luke asked.

“I mean, I don’t understand why you’ve gone out of your way to do so much for me. Especially with all this date stuff.”

What an innocent soul he was. Luke smiled and shrugged.

“Because I want to.”

“But… why?”

Din looked genuinely puzzled. On the one hand, it was endearing, but on the other, Luke couldn’t help wondering why it was so hard for him to accept that people would just want to help him.

“Believe it or not, Mr. Djarin,” he started, “spending this much time together has made us friends. Friends help each other. If I needed something, we both know you’d be there for me. It’s the same both ways.”

Din’s expression relaxed a bit. A small grin pulled at his lips.

“Well, friend, I’m sorry to have kept you here all night.”

The swell of warmth that came from hearing Din call him a friend was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Luke gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“No worries, pal. I’m really glad you had such a good night.”

Din gave him a wider smile.

“You were right about getting there early,” he chuckled, “I did need the extra time.”

Luke laughed.

He sat back and listened as Din relayed parts of the night, pride growing within him with every moment, every story, every little hint of bashfulness and glee on Din’s face.

A happy Din was quite the sight to behold.

****

Additional notes: Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson is one of my favorite books ever. Full stop. It's a beautiful, skillfully told story about an old man finding new meanings in life. The characters are so flushed out and amazing and they just tug at your heart. I am very picky about writing style and I just gotta say, Helen's is one of the most talented writers I've read. Only something like this date could've derailed my mind from her gorgeous words!!

latch taglist: @the-scandalorian @tobealostwanderer @captain-jebi @prismaticpizza @sunipostsstuff @jaa1682-27 @onebrownoneblue @kesskirata @fangirlalexia @tortles @girlofchaos @spideysimpossiblegirl @just-a-sewer-goblin @kotemorons @hotchlover

perm taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @christina-loves @librariantothejedi @literallydontlook @salome-c @dessinemoiunehistoire @dear-fifi @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @keldabe-kriff @kurlyfrasier @booksaremyyoga @elegantduckturtle @artsymaddie

[radnewspaperroom]

Solomon observation for lesson 11

I'm gonna do a read more in case some of you haven't yet, but make sure you block the different spoiler tags in your settings to avoid spoilers in the future, ok?

I find Solomon's whole interaction with Belphie to be mind boggling. Solomon has always been the kind to playfully act ignorant of jabs at him and blame for situations that he outright causes and brings about.

During S4, he helps Belphie and Satan with a prank that actually causes Lucifer to be bound to Solomon and Mephistopheles. But plays innocent at first.

Here we see him unashamed, correcting the blame and being willing to be public enemy number 1. A good mirror to Mammon's odd blame taking during the Cerberus excursion. Mammon is known for abandoning MC to his brothers wrath of him, and using them as a shield for balme (the custard) but he steps up and tells the truth about who got everyone to go to the castle

And, did anyone else get a little freaked out and think "we're about to see Solomon do something with his full chest? Like actually put forth a great deal of effort into fucking the boys up....if need be?"

We've never seen Solomon truly angry before. Peeved off maybe, but full on wrath/anger/rage? Not yet. Still haven't I don't believe. But he's made it Crystal clear he is feeling things that aren't just neutrality and mischievousness.

But I worry he's doing his regression arc. He's treating demons like ticking time bombs, which is fair on one hand. But he's removed himself in a way that kinda makes me think he's a hypocrite. Like he's better than them because he's not a demon.

He automatically assumes the worst about the lot, instead of just taking it out on Belphie for attacking MC. He claims they're ganging up on MC and takes offense to it.

He still sees them as "other" than himself, and always keeps how to deal with them specifically in mind. Always keeping them at arms length. Never fully allowing anyone to get close and Allow himself to be vulnerable.

And not just with the brothers, but with MC too.

How much do we (MCs) know about Solomon?

1. He can't grow old or die from sickness, but he is killable.

2. He's ancient. Far older than he claims he can remember.

3. He's had a pact with Barbatos for centuries.

4. He's a scientist/alchemist at heart. The sentence: "for science!" Was basically made for fuckers like him.

5. He claims ignorance to sarcasm, taking people's insults as compliments.

6. He can't cook and He accidentally even makes potions when cooking. (Swear I think it's cause he's immortal. He's 'for science'd his way into the kitchen and developed a fucked up sense of taste)

7. He's known 13 just a bit longer than Barbatos, or so it seems currently.

8. He's got a one track mind. Once he's got an experiment going, good luck getting his attention till he's done.

9. He's traveled through time before.

10. He likes to keep secrets. Even from MC about seemingly the most trivial things.

11. He sees demons as puppets and tools to be used, not really friends to be close with. He started to change that in the OG, but again, I'm worried this is regression era, where he's gonna slide back into old habbits.

I also worry it's a bit of jealousy making him act out. This is the most time since MC was stuck in the human world with no teleportation magic that he's gotten to spend with them.

He's gotten to live with them at Cocytus Hall, eat dinner every night with them. Go shopping. He's getting that newly wed experience the brothers have got since day 1.

Once the brothers accept MC as human, that'll come to a crash and burn. Simeon and Luke will go back to the celestial realm and MC's room will be open for them to go to (return to) and his honeymoon phase will be over as the newly infatuated brothers aren't gonna be keen on sharing their new love with him. It'll be just like present day

I said it in a different post, but Solomon has got issues, when it comes to having faith in someone other than himself.

He doesn't trust Asmo or Barbatos 100% cause they're demons, and he doesn't trust MC blindly yet, despite or perhaps because both of them are human.

He's constantly thinking about the next move, or 20 potential ones in any situation and calculating how to Speedrun the best outcome. And to be a scientist about it, he can't let feelings sway his ultimate decision.

He's got a staggering inability to just say "I trust you", take a backsest or to trust MC's judgement. He wouldn't be able to answer MC if they asked him to trust them over the grimmore thing.

If you choose the "I'll follow your lead" option before meeting Lucifer, he says this...

Solomon doesn't have faith in anyone but himself, and seeing MC's faith in him is enough to make him be vocal about it. Like he's honestly surprised his apprentice and romantic partner trusts him fully.

If there's something MC has buckets of: it's moxie and faith, and god damn if that ain't one hell of a combination.

[simpsonsnight]

Episode #709

Treehouse of Horror XXXII Season 33, Episode 2 | October 10, 2021

Welcome back to "the blog I refuse to proofread"

Opening: A parody Bambi with Bart as Bambi and Marge as Bambi's mother. This specifically spoofs the scene where Bambi's mother gets her head cut off with a chainsaw. In this version, Homer is a deer who gores the hunter, played by Mr. Burns. It's only edgy on it's surface level, but the satiric point is that Disney sometimes makes scary stuff for kids. It's a soft ribbing of their parent company at best.

Story #1: A parody of Parasite, which I never saw. This one's okay, but it's just not leftist enough! Rainier Wolfcastle is the rich guy's house. I really do think the Simpsons writers, who probably all own houses exactly like his, do sorta seem to have more of an interest in dunking on the working class. See, I wasn't even kidding when I said it wasn't leftist enough. YOU THOUGHT I WAS DOING IRONY, BUT I ACTUALLY FEEL THAT WAY AND BELIEVE THE STUFF I'M SAYING ABOUT THIS. AAAAUUUUUGHHHHH

Story #2: In the second story, Bart scares Lisa and Maggie with a spooky story on Halloween, causing them to interrupt Homer and Marge's love-making sessions. Homer sets his sights on the tree-house, and decides to chop down the tree in the backyard, citing it as the cause for his woes. Every year is the same thing, "three scary stories. Two of them good, with a lame one in the middle". Hey, I smiled.

The tree gets zapped by lightening and comes to life, pulling it's roots out of the ground and going on a rampage. It can somehow zap alive other trees, who form a posse against the humans. This one is dumb but fun visually, so I like it fine. And ya gotta respect the fact that it contains their least offensive trans joke yet, when Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors says he identifies as a tree, because he's a "transplant". Not the most incredible joke in the world, and it's maybe a little hubristic of the Simpsons writers to think they can pull off non-alienating trans jokes. But it's worth noting, I guess.

Story #2.5: OH! They did a short! Because of their weird-ass four-act structure where the third act is very very short. It was Vincent Price reading a rude story in the style of Edward Gorey. One of couplets is a recreation of Bart the Lover.

Story #3: "Dead Ringer" is a parody of The Ring, which I literally watched last Halloween for the first time. Good idea, Simpsons, to parody a thing I know about. Anyway, I found this one to be the weakest.

And that's this one. I'm back, baby! (I am probably going to abandon this blog again right after this post)

MAIL BAG

Aw. AW HELL NO.

People say "The Last Exit to Springfield" is one of the greatest it's not its one of the worst why The Big Book of British Smiles we do not have those teeth. I know Americans need to have theirs cosmetically whitened. It makes no sense the book.

I'm starting to think that no book in the whole world makes sense. I look at those things and I'm just, like, "what is this". You know what I mean? This guy gets it.

I know fans and former fans like to trash the show and even think the show will last forever and ever and ever. But if you have some common sense the show will end if either Matt or a voice actor passes away. Everything comes to an end sometime.

I would not put it past the corporate entities that own the show to have bullied the cast into signing away artificial intelligence rights to their voices in the events of their deaths. It's just a hunch that I have. It was probably the only reason they were able to reach a deal in the last strike or whatever.

How dumb was Marge in the soap box racer episode agreeing with her sisters giving Homer the father test didn't she get it was probably to break them up.

Marge loves her family and is inherently trusting. These are good qualities, unless you live in a world where everyone around you has refused god's grace. She inherited a terrible world that is not suited for her. In other words... can you blame her?

The real reason on why Springfield Stem Academy was a failure was because the idea was from Marge Simpson and the episode had the name Lisa Simpson The Miseducation of Lisa Simpson. Both of them females.

Many in the community will argue that it is canon that "Man smart. Woman Smarter" as sung by Our Favourite Family, but many forget that was a Halloween episode, and thus not canon. Man Smart. Homer/Bart.

Homer a jerkass suppose he didn't know that the word was jackass? Also Homer has always been an ass when he was supposed to get Lisa a new saxophone reed. But went for a beer first. Then it caused the pony incident Lisa always wanted one but it was an incident with ponies being too expensive.

Ponies can be very expensive. Just ask my friend BING CROSBY! HAHAHA GOT 'IM. Nah, I think Homer got it from online. I get all my stuff from online.

[stickthisbig]

Kinktober, Day 4

Using this opportunity to post some things that are a little less polished, and/or were supposed to be standalone stories but never quite clicked. So! Kink of the day is prostitution, here's some Edvard/Kasimir/Zillah.

There isn't a specific sign that people who buy and sell use. You just kind of know; more importantly, you just don't know. Nothing to flag it for the bluecoats, a nice bit of privacy and plausible deniability. Kasimir is just sitting at a table, surveying the patrons and looking dangerous, and that's all it ever has to be.

Edvard appears, cutting off his view of most of the bar. "Good evening," he says. "I wondered if I might have a moment of your time."

Kasimir takes a long sip from his pint, looking Edvard up and down, making him wait. "Depends on what you want it for."

"I'm perfectly willing to make it worth your while," Edvard tells him. "I understand that time is coin."

"Then have a seat," Kasimir says. 

-

"The only issue is that I feel certain that we'll get caught," Edvard says.

"Doing what?" Kasimir says. "Playing pretend ain't illegal." 

"Yes, but what will people think?" Edvard says. "They know us there." 

"I don't live in the kind of world where people get precious about hustling," Kasimir says. "They've seen us together loads of times. Worst case, one of them goes 'Why's he making the little guy pay for it?'"

"You're the little guy, surely," Edvard says. "I'm two inches taller than you."

"You're definitely the little guy, y'know, spiritually," Kasimir says. "Lilith said that's called a short king."

"You're both the little guy," Zillah says. 

--

"You see, it's not me asking for myself," Edvard says. "I'm very happily married."

"That doesn't stop a lot of men," Kasimir says.

"Perhaps not," Edvard says. "I want to engage your services for my wife."

"Because you can't deliver?" Kasimir suggests. "Need to hire extra muscle?"

"Oh, no," Edvard says with a smile. "That isn't it at all."

Kasimir cocks an eyebrow at him. "Then what is it?"

"My understanding is that you can be quite cruel," Edvard says. 

"Only if your lady wife is into that stuff," Kasimir says. 

"It matters to you?" Edvard asks. 

"You want an assailant, mate, you can buy one anywhere," Kasimir says, unimpressed. "That ain't what I'm selling."

"A finer product, then," Edvard says, and Kasimir shrugs expressively. "She's mine, and she'll do as I tell her. I want to watch her take it. I want to prove to her that she loves it." Edvard leans forward. "I want that woman obliterated, and I want to hear her beg for more."

"Then we might be able to do business," Kasimir says. 

--

"Yeah, but what's the point?" Kasimir says. "What's the object of doing it like this?"

"Apart from wanting to watch?" Edvard says.

"Yeah," Kasimir says. "I'll show off any old time."

"It's really hot?" Zillah offers.

"I need a little more than that," Kasimir says. "Sometimes that's good enough, but sometimes it isn't."

"Why wouldn't I want it?" Zillah says. "My handsome, kinda sadistic husband brings home help as a mindgame? Torn between being righteous and being good? I dunno about you two, but that sounds like exactly the kind of shit I'd be into."

Kasimir pauses. "Well, when you put it like that."

"Trust me, Kasimir," Edvard says. "It'll be fantastic."

--

Kasimir stands at Edvard's shoulder, hands gripping the finial of his cane. He looks like a brute, a bruiser, the kind of man you wouldn't want knowing your address, much less coming inside.

Zillah's wearing the only frilly thing she owns, a dressing gown Edvard bought for her when she saw it in a shop window. "This can't be what you want me to do," she says, holding it closed even though it's tied at her waist.

"Of course it is, dear," Edvard says. "The sooner you let the nice man fuck you, the sooner we can all move on."

"Why should I do a thing like that?" Zillah asks.

"Because I told you to, darling," Edvard says. "You already know you'll do as you're told."

"No offense, mate, but let a professional handle this," Kasimir says, pushing Edvard back none too gently.

"I beg your pardon," Edvard says.

"By the end of the night?" Kasimir says. "I bet you will."

Zillah doesn't speak, just letting Kasimir approach. "Don't worry about him, angel, he's just the money," he tells her, in his most ingratiating voice. "I'm Kasimir. Let's get a little more comfortable and see how long it takes your husband to realize he dug his own grave."

"This wasn't the arrangement," Edvard says.

"I'm sure you didn't think it was," Kasimir says.

"Can I get you some tea?" Zillah asks. "Or maybe something stronger?"

"Oh, you can get me something stronger alright," Kasimir says, taking her by the arm and conducting her towards the bedroom.

"This is an outrage," Edvard says, following along quickly. He might get left if he doesn't keep up, and what if he has to be outraged out in the hallway alone? Honestly, it doesn't bear thinking about.

[anarchy-and-piglins]

For some reason people really seem to dig this AU so have some more thoughts I had today:

What is Phil's end goal? Wouldn't his parents find out eventually? Yes, but his plan is to have his antique shop up and running and so successful that he'll have enough money to pay for his daily needs + save up the vast sum that his parents spend to send him to school and fund him for a few years. He will then gently break the news to them and give them all their money back as if it were a loan, advising them to leave the estate to his younger sibling/a nephew/other family. That way he's no longer reliant on their money and they can't say he owes them.

Will they be pissed? Definitely. The worst case outcome of this would be that they would completely refuse to speak to him again, which would hurt Phil since he does still love his family, strained as the relationship is. But it's a hurt he's willing to swallow if it means avoiding the golden cage they want to place him in and he'd definitely be miserable with. The best case outcome is that after seething for a bit, they realize Phil is an independent young adult and they can't dissuade him, so they accept his decision, and maybe even come to see the upsides of having a rich son in London with connections 👀👀👀 It is very fashionable...

Techno in this AU is very inspired by Sherlock Holmes (the accurate book version, my beloved), especially in how he's perceived by other characters. Somebody who is eccentric and doesn't care for social conventions and is bluntly honest to the point of rudeness/sarcasm in a way that rubs high society wrong, but in actuality, he's really passionate about the things he does care about and really ride or die for the people he loves, he's just weird about how he expresses his emotions sometimes, making him accidentally come across as cold or standoffish and other times obsessively concerned with specific things to an unsettling degree.

Overall he doesn't care what other people think of him and that is his biggest 'offense' to the average gentleman in Victorian-era England to be honest (in conjunction with like, being born poor lol. Some crimes can never be forgiven /j).

Somebody did mention detective work in the tags and I do think solving crimes/mysteries is one of the many things Techno does do for people, he just applies himself more broadly than Holmes does to other things beyond mystery solving, being more about 'problem solving' in general minus the mystery element. Private investigating would be one of the things he'll do for hire, just not the only one by far. He's also motivated by money and flexing on the aristocracy specifically rather than a more nebulous boredom.

So in other words, some similarities with Sherlock Holmes for sure because I also love those books, but lots of differences too.

Phil originally was intent on Techno just forging some papers for him and maybe joining one dinner with his parents for fake small talk but Techno gets really invested in making up a whole timeline for their fake friendship where they met in university and shared lodgings together, and how they have to fake a location for the factory and investors, etc and Phil is like "is all of that really necessary, mate?" but it helps the bonding along. It also turns out to be quite useful because Phil's parents are waaaaay more nosey than Phil gave them credit for. They have their work cut out for them.

Kristin in this runs a butcher shop in Whitechapel and is one of Techno's contacts (she definitely is involved in local crime networks too) and Phil falls head over heels for her but also knows his parents would absolutely murder him if he brought a lower class girl over for dinner so he's waiting for that whole antique shop thing to pan out first before he introduces her lmao.

The only other character I currently know a role for and would be really funny to have in this is Quackity, who is from a family that used to be upper class but now is solidly middle class (slipping into lower middle class) because of some unlucky streaks, who lives above his station and desperately tries to cling to his wealth and reputation in the high society circles, and who hates Techno so so very much. Like SO much.

This probably falls under 'niche AU that's only interesting to me because I'm a history nerd' but I think Techno would slay in a Victorian era AU, he'd be like a historian / scholar who goes to fancy gentlemen clubs to beat everybody at poker

[dreamwritesimagines]

Burn The Witch 4 - Making Believe [Bucky Barnes x Reader]

A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful support and feedback my loves ! ❤ Here’s the next chapter, I hope you like it as well and please let me know what you think! ❤ Thank you! ❤❤❤

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, fake dating, mentions of blood, sex, violence, death, manipulation, language, guns, knives.

Summary: A lot can happen in a coffee shop. 

Series Masterlist

Considering all the missions your superiors had sent you, this wasn’t the first one to make you end up with a gunshot wound, but it was the first one that you were assigned to seduce the target and ended up with a gunshot wound as a first impression.

Now that you had met Bucky, the next step would be easier. You just hoped he wouldn’t suspect something was up like General kept warning you about, so you had to make sure to memorize every single detail of your cover story.

Instead of being a trained assassin, you were now working in a milkshake shop.

Instead of having lived there your whole life, you were now clueless about the city since you had recently moved there.

Instead of liking horror movies, you now loved rom-coms.

New identity, new apartment, new car, new everything. It was as if the real you had never existed, but none of that was your biggest issue right now.

It was your new uniform for the milkshake shop.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself, looking in the mirror before fixing your skirt. Even after a week, you still weren’t used to wearing it, the uniform was some sort of a retro diner waitress costume with red and white stripes, cinched waist and a white apron over the short skirt. “I’m going to kill whoever picked this after I’m done with the mission.”

“Y/N?” Chloe called out from the living room, “Come on, we need to go over everything for today.”

You ran a hand over your face and walked to the living room to find your two best friends sprawling on the couch. Keith let out a laugh as soon as he saw you in that outfit, but managed to hide it by pressing his fist on his lips while Chloe kicked at his boot.

“I didn’t say anything!” He held up his hands, “Will you break my phone again if I take a picture?”

“Yeah,” you pointed at him, “I will, so don’t even.”

“We need to go over the plan,” Chloe said, “Today is the day you accidentally run into Barnes, he’ll be at that coffee shop.”

“How do you know where he will be?”

Chloe scoffed, “Hello? I’m a genius hacker?”

Keith sat up straighter, turning the pages of your file.

“Okay so,” he said, “You guys will probably make some small talk, let’s have some practice. Pretend I’m Bucky, how will you talk about yourself?”

“We don’t need to practice it, it’s not my first rodeo,” you reminded him “I got this.”

“Y/N, no offense but he isn’t some clueless civilian okay? The guy was going after targets before you or your parents were born for that matter. The tiniest mistake could tip him off.”

“He has a point.”

“Fine,” you sighed, fixing your nametag, “Let’s practice then.”

Keith took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Look at that, we ran into each other again.”

You frowned at his deep voice, “Bucky doesn’t sound like one of those robots in the Terminator, Keith.”

“I’m in the zone, just go with it,” he said as offered you his hand, and you shook it.

“Yeah, hi again.”

“I haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Oh that’s normal, I just moved here. A month ago.”

“You just moved here?” he repeated “Really? Did you get used to the city yet?”

“A little.”

“I bet your family misses you.”

“Not really, I grew up with my grandmother. She passed away last year.”

“Any siblings?”

“No.”

Keith raised his brows, “Can you be less specific?”

“Keith—“

“You’re not acting like a civilian right now, you’re acting like a spy who has been forced to socialize and he will see right through that,” he told you. “You have to give him more details, civilians talk about themselves a lot.”

“It’s true,” Chloe said, “Once I was in this speed dating thing and just- don’t ask. They don’t stop talking about themselves.”

Keith pursed his lips only for a moment, stealing a look at Chloe before turning to you,

“Let’s try again. Any siblings?”

You rolled your eyes, “Unfortunately not. I’m an only child but when I was a kid, I kept begging my parents for a sister. My mom asked me what would happen if I got a brother, apparently I went like “but mommy, you can give him back then!””

“There we go, embarrassing childhood memories,” Keith grinned, “Good idea.”

You checked your wristwatch, “I gotta run,” you said, “You guys can see yourselves out.”

“I was actually hoping I could stay a little more,” Chloe said, “To make this place look a bit more appropriate. I suppose you’ll bring him here at some point?”

You pulled your brows together, looking around. “Yeah, so? There’s a bedroom.”

“Ever the romantic, this one,” Keith said and Chloe shook her head,

“Y/N, he needs to see something personal otherwise he might get suspicious.”

You pursed your lips, deep in thought, “You mean like sex toys?”

“Oh Jesus…”

“Contrary to popular belief, when people say they want to see something personal, they don’t refer to sex toys.” Keith stated helpfully, “That being said, we’re all screwed if you end up falling for a civilian, you have no idea how to act like one.”

“I meant personal as in stuff to make your place look more homely,” Chloe explained, “Things from your cover’s past that show him we didn’t fabricate this whole identity.”

“Even if we did,” Keith mumbled under his breath and she nodded.

“Even if we did. He needs to see something personal when he comes here, like…” she motioned at the walls, “Like your childhood pictures or your art projects from when you were seventeen.”

“I was learning how to use a pencil as a knife when I was seventeen, Chloe.”

“Exactly. Just let me handle it, I’ve been watching so many makeover shows lately.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “Knock yourself out,” you said, “I have milkshakes to fill, see you guys later.”

“Go get him tiger!”

“You got this!” Chloe called out as you walked to the door, “Just be confident and your milkshake will bring all the ex-assassins to the yard!”

You let out a small laugh, then closed the door behind you before throwing your shoulders back and going down the stairs.

                                                         ***

Approaching the target as your training taught you had to have certain steps. You couldn’t just implant yourself in their life, you had to wait until they thought it was their choice to include you in their lives. Sometimes it took more time than you had patience for, but in the end it was worth it.

Seeing that Bucky Barnes was no civilian, every single step had to be checked twice.

Well the uniform would help the mission, at least a little.

A distracted target was a good target.

You lowered the binoculars before pushing them into your purse and fixing the apron wrapped around your waist. Bucky was sitting with Sam at the coffee shop and they seemed to be in a deep discussion, not even aware of what was going on around them. You took a deep breath and approached the door before you pushed it, then slowly made your way to the barista.

“Hi, can I get a cappuccino please? Small.” You smiled at her and went to the counter on the right to wait for your order. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Sam looking at you with a frown before saying something to Bucky, nodding in your direction. You kept your eyes on the counter, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet before you scratched around the tape of the bandage over the bullet wound absentmindedly.

Come on…. you thought Come on, approach me already, just come here….

“Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the cup off the counter before you started pouring sugar into it just to stall, and finally heard someone clear their throat behind you.

Bingo.

You looked over your shoulder and turned around, your jaw dropping.

“Come on,” you let out a giggle, “Is this real?”

Bucky smiled slightly and pursed his lips together as if he wasn’t familiar with the gesture, “Uh…hi.”

“Hi!” you said, your voice way too high pitched for a moment, “Wow. We meet again, my hero.”

His smile widened and he rubbed the back of his neck, “How’s your arm?”

“Healing,” you ran a finger over the tape of the bandage, “I didn’t die, that’s something. But the doctor said that was the worst bullet wound he had ever seen in his life.”

Bucky frowned, “Wait, really?”

“No, I’m just trying to look badass,” you admitted, making him chuckle, “They didn’t even think it needed stitches.”

“Ah,” he said and motioned at your uniform, “So you’re a…?”

You scrunched up your nose in what you hoped to be a cute manner and shot him an abashed look, “I know. I thought the exact same thing when I first saw myself in it.”

“I doubt that,” he mumbled more to himself and you tilted your head, batting your lashes.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, “So the uniform?”

“I work at this milkshake shop just around the corner,” you said, “Apparently retro shops are popular nowadays. It’s supposed to look like this pin up style— can you tell me what’s wrong with the dress so that I can tell the owner what a ridiculous idea it is?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking you up and down, “I don’t- it’s-“ he stammered “You know, it was such a long time ago. I think it looks perfectly fine.”

“Does it?”

“Absolutely.”

You grinned at him, “Well in any case, you should drop by sometime. Milkshakes are better than the uniform, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, “Yeah! I would’ve invited you sooner but by the time I was done at the hospital you had already left, and they also told me you paid for the whole thing and the taxi, so…”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved a hand, “It’s nothing.”

You bit down on your lip, “If you don’t mind me asking,” you said softly, “Why did you leave in a hurry? I mean obviously you didn’t have to stay, I’m sure you’re very busy and—“

“No no, it’s nothing like that,” Bucky cut you off, “I just didn’t want you to think you owed me anything, that’s all.”

“Huh,” you clicked your tongue, “I see. I was wondering what the catch was, didn’t have to wait that long. That’s good to know.”

He raised his brows, amused for some reason, “What’s the catch?”

“You’re too much of a gentleman.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really,” you taunted him “Just unfamiliar.”  

His gaze lingered on you as you took a sip of your coffee, keeping your eyes on him.

“I hope you got home safe though,” he said after a beat and you thought for a moment.

“I did, and now I know to stay away from dark alleys in New York,” you said, “Lesson learned I’d say.”

“You’re not from around here?”

“I- no, I actually moved here just a month ago,” you said, “I grew up in a small town, we didn’t really have robbers or anything. And I managed to get mugged within the first thirty days in a big city. A true New York experience, I feel like I belong here already.”

“Your folks must be losing their minds if you attract trouble that fast in the city.”

“No one is losing their minds, it’s just me,” you said and when you saw his quizzical glances, you felt the need to explain. “I grew up with my grandma and I lost her a year ago, so…”

“I’m sorry.”

“Ah it’s okay,” you said, “She wouldn’t want me to live in sadness, she told me that herself. You can’t focus on what ifs, you know? We just decide what to do with the time left for us and that’s it. Past would drive all of us crazy otherwise.”

He looked almost surprised at your take on loss and when you saw the soft light in his eyes, you knew you had just hit jackpot.

“You’re a glass half full kind of person, huh?”

Nope, I’m more of a “use the glass as a weapon” kind of person.

“Yeah,” you said, “There are enough pessimists in the world, and they don’t need me within their ranks. No one really did anything nice by thinking the worst anyways.”

“Oh you were definitely not raised here.”

Your jaw dropped, “You know what Mr. Barnes, I’d take that as an offense but lucky for you, you saved me the other day, so I’ll let that slide.”

“Mm hm,” He looked like he was struggling with himself not to laugh, “Lucky me.”

You narrowed your eyes at him playfully, then checked your wristwatch.

“I should probably go, my boss cares a lot about punctuality,” you said, “But is it okay if I gave you my number?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds as if he couldn’t believe you.

“Wait- really?”

“I mean I was going to wait until you asked me, but apparently you’re too much of a gentleman,” you joked as he hastily grabbed his phone from his pocket and handed it to you. You typed in your number, then saved it.

Y/N (The Milkshake Girl)

Bucky tilted his head, his brows furrowed, “What, you didn’t think I’d recognize your name?”

“Well it’s better to be safe than sorry,” you joked, “Besides you should really come by sometime. We have the best chocolate milkshakes. It’s on the house.”

He smiled, “I will.”

You took a step, then held your breath and turned around as if you had just remembered something.

As if it wasn’t all practiced.

“But not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays,” you said, “I volunteer at the soup kitchen then.”

That light in his eyes was almost gentle, as if he was worried he could hurt you just by looking at you, but couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

“I’ll see you not after 4 on Mondays and Wednesdays then,” he said and you giggled, then turned around and walked to the door. Sam was watching you with a small, proud grin on his lips so you waved at him and left the coffee shop, still holding the warm cup tightly in your hand.

As soon as you were sure you were out of their sight, you dropped the smile, exhaled a relaxed breathe and grabbed your phone to touch the contact on the screen.

“I’m sorry, our delivery service is down right now,” the voice said and you scratched around the tape on your arm before telling her the code;

“That’s okay, I can wait until the rain stops.”

There was a click on the other line and soon enough you heard the assistant’s voice.

“Hello?”

“This is Shrike, put me through the General.”

“Of course, a second please,” she said and you tossed the cup into the garbage can, then General’s voice reached you.

“Shrike?”

“Sir, I just called to inform you that I’ve contacted the target for the second time,” you said, “Everything is going according to plan, my report will be on your desk by tonight.”

“He didn’t suspect anything?”

“No sir.”

“Okay,” he said, “Don’t move too fast, alright? We don’t want to spook him.”

“Of course.”

“And Shrike?” he said, “Good job.”

A smile lit up your face, “Thank you sir,” you said and hung up, closing your eyes and leaning back to the wall.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “You got this, he’s just another target. Let the games begin.”

Chapter 5

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt- WWX didn’t die, instead was held captive by JGGY for the 16 years

ao3

“ – his sword has sealed itself. What better evidence that the Yiling Patriarch is dead and gone?”

I’m not, though, Wei Wuxian thought fuzzily. I’m not gone.

Except when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn’t quite manage it. Why couldn’t he open his eyes? Where was he, anyway?

(Dead and gone –)

He remembered the backlash, suddenly, and shuddered. His qi revolting from inside of him, ghostly hands reaching for him, tearing at him – the complete loss of control – pain –  

Am I dead?

Yes, actually, that seemed pretty likely. That backlash…no one could have survived it, not even him.

(Arrogant as always, Wei Wuxian. Haven’t you seen what become of that?)

Okay, I’m dead, he told himself, and it rang true. But that doesn’t answer the question of where am I?

(Questions like “what am I” could be saved for later.)

He could hear, anyway. He wasn’t sure how, but he could. Maybe he could even see?

He tried to see.

He could see.

Blurrily, and not quite right, but he could.

There were people standing around him. The Jin sect, judging by their clothing, and some others – they were arguing over something. Spoils of war���

Hey! He complained. That’s not a spoil of war! That’s my stuff!

Actually, on second thought, maybe they were right. Sure, it was his stuff – was someone trying to lay claim to his shopping list? – but there had been a war, and he’d lost, and that meant his stuff was spoils.

“The greatest contribution, next to the Jiang sect, is ours. Suibian belongs to the Jin sect,” someone said, interrupting Wei Wuxian’s train of thought, and put their hand on him.

Wait.

What?

I’m Suibian?

No, something that wasn’t quite a voice suddenly said. I’m Suibian. You’re Wei Wuxian. Keep it straight.

Wei Wuxian would have gaped, if he’d still had a mouth. Suibian? You – talk?

There was a feeling of amusement. Possibly a bit of mockery. No, definitely mockery, possibly a lot of it.

Is Wei Wuxian’s sword…kind of a dick?

Suibian sniggered.

What am I doing here? Wei Wuxian asked.

I pulled in your souls and spirits when you died, his sword said. They were already setting up soul-summoning rituals for you, and it wouldn’t have gone well for you if they caught you.

No, it wouldn’t have.

You saved me?

I’m your sword, aren’t I? What else am I here for, especially since you no longer wield me?

Wei Wuxian felt a stab of guilt. He’d never once thought about explaining himself to his sword, though in his defense he didn’t know his sword might have feelings on the subject. About that –

Yes, yes, I know, Suibian said. Chenqing explained the whole thing.

…my flute? You talk to my flute?

Please, Suibian said. We’re spiritual weapons. Of course we talk.

Isn’t that only supposed to happen for the weapons of sages? Wei Wuxian argued. Not, you know, run-of-the-mill ones. Er, no offense. Not that you’re not awesome, but I, personally, am very far from a sage.

At least you admit it, Suibian teased. And no, I think that’s just when everyone can start hearing us. We talk amongst ourselves long before that…sometimes I’m jealous of the Nie sect’s sabers. They can talk to their masters a lot earlier than we can.

They can? Even, what, shit he didn’t know any Nie, uh, Nie Huaisang?

…Nie Huaisang doesn’t count and you know it. His saber’s pretty funny, though. Lazier than a sloth.

That sounded about right.

Baxia’s terrifying, though.

That…also sounded right.

Okay, Wei Wuxian said, tearing his mind away from the fascinating question of why the Nie sabers in specific might be able to communicate with their wielders sooner than most and also what that might mean. There were more important things to discuss. Uh, thanks for saving my life. Death? Thanks for saving my souls, anyway.

Don’t embarrass me with gratitude.

Wei Wuxian would have grinned if he’d had a mouth. Yeah, sure, whatever.

They both sniggered at that.

Anyway, what now? I thought I heard…we’re sealed?

How else am I supposed to hide the fact that your souls and spirits are in here? Suibian asked. If someone wields us, they’d know. Wielders always know.

Wei Wuxian didn’t have anything to say about that. He had always known that Suibian was – Suibian. He could have picked up his sword in the dark and known it was his own, rather than another’s.

He just hadn’t known that Suibian had also known.

He’d even known that Suibian had a personality, that he’d – she’d – it –

Hey, do you have a gender? Wei Wuxian asked, distracted. Are you a boy sword or a girl sword –

I am a sword, Suibian said. Please leave your weird human reproduction techniques out of it.

It’s not about reproduction! It’s…hm. Maybe it is about reproduction? I don’t know, I’ve never really questioned it. Something to think about later on. More importantly – what now?

What do you mean?

What do we do now?

I’m not sure I understand.

Wei Wuxian would have rolled his eyes if he’d had them. What is our next step? You rescued me, and now we’re being bartered around as spoils of war. What’s the plan? What do we do now?

Suibian really didn’t seem to understand.

Well, you rescued me! What were you intending happen after that?

Nothing, Suibian said. I rescued you. That was the complete action. There was nothing after that.

You didn’t make a plan?

I’m a sword. We get wielded by others; we don’t – or at least, rarely – take initiative on our own. I’m not a Nie saber or something; I’m not going to hop up one day and go out hunting for evil on my own.

…is that a thing Nie sabers do? Wei Wuxian asked. On second thought, don’t answer that, I don’t have time to process it at the moment. Listen, now that you’ve rescued me, we still have to do something, right? We can’t just sit around on a shelf somewhere in the Jin sect as a trophy!

Suibian’s silence was almost a little pitying.

We can’t do that, Wei Wuxian repeated. Right?  

They were, in fact, placed on a Jin shelf, at least in the beginning.

It was a prominent place, meant to show him off – show it off, really, since no one knew Wei Wuxian was in there.

Wei Wuxian hated it.

He hated the way Jin Guangshan smirked at the sword, very obviously thinking about how he’d ground Wei Wuxian under his heel. He hated the fact that the man was using his research to develop demonic cultivation into something truly monstrous and vile, the reports that were delivered to Jin Guangshan within Wei Wuxian’s hearing enough to make his stomach turn if he still had one.

Reports of entire sects murdered, men women children all, brutally slaughtered as experiments in tests – each one delivered with a calm smile and no regret.

Wei Wuxian hated that.

He hated, too, the fact that his demonic cultivation, that new invention of his, was treated as nothing but a stepping stone, a tool used to help the Jin sect gain power and ascendance over the other sects – that was what this had always been about, he realized belatedly, too late to do any good.

He’d always known that Jiang Cheng had only cast him out of the Jiang sect because of pressure from the rest of the cultivation world, but somehow he hadn’t realized that that pressure was manufactured, that it was intentional, that he’d always been meant to either yield or die because the Jin sect wanted his power and his Tiger Seal and his secrets. Even if he’d still had a golden core, even if he’d set aside demonic cultivation the way they asked, it still would have ended up the same way in the end.

He’d given the Jiang sect power and influence – and the Jin sect didn’t like that.

But what Wei Wuxian hated most of all, above even the sickening reports of the Jin sect’s crimes, was –

“You look well, Sect Leader Jiang,” Jin Guangshan said, blatantly lying.

Jiang Cheng’s eyes were rimmed with red, whether with tears or an incipient qi deviation, and he stared vacantly at Jin Guangshan as if he didn’t quite understand his meaning. He’d lost weight, his cheekbones sharper than they’d been since the worst days of the war when they hadn’t had enough food, and he didn’t seem entirely – sane.

What happened to him? Wei Wuxian demanded. He might be the one who was living a half-life, but Jiang Cheng looked it.

He’s all alone, Suibian said. Like a sword that hasn’t been drawn in years, not even to be sharpened –

I said I was sorry about no wielding you, okay! But no, seriously, what have the Jin sect been doing to him?

Why are you asking me? I’ve been here, same as you.

“Stop the small talk,” Jiang Cheng finally said, interrupting Jin Guangshan’s odious discourse about the general state of the cultivation world, the satisfactory improvement in trade, and even the weather. “We both know why I’m here.”

Jin Guangshan stopped talking, and smiled his viper’s smile that Wei Wuxian wanted to scrub off his face. Preferably with the flat of Suibian’s blade. “It’s a very impudent request, you know,” he said, leaning back. “One could even say that it’s offensive that you even suggested it.”

Jiang Cheng stared at him. His knuckles were white from how hard his fists were clenched. “That’s not a no,” he said. His normally sharp voice was dulled. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s not,” Jin Guangshan agreed. “But if you want something from me, you have to give something in return.”

Haven’t you taken enough from him? Wei Wuxian shouted. You forced him to get rid of me, you forced my hand at the Qiongqi Path and led to everything that happened next, you – you – you greedy pig!

Now, now, Suibian said. What have pigs ever done to you?

Jiang Cheng swallowed and closed his eyes. He looked tired – exhausted – broken into pieces. The Jin sect ought to be helping him rebuild, helping him survive, not extorting him for whatever it was they wanted now.

“I understand,” Jiang Cheng said, through thin and bloodless lips.

Don’t do it! Whatever it is they want from you, refuse, it’s not worth it, Wei Wuxian tried to tell him, though he knew Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him, couldn’t understand. You don’t know what they’re doing in secret, in the dark – if you knew, you’d be disgusted. Horrified. I know you would be. You’d stop them. If you agree to whatever it is that they want, you’ll think that you were complicit in it when you find out about it, no matter if you weren’t. Don’t agree!

But of course Jiang Cheng couldn’t hear him.

“I’m glad you do,” Jin Guangshan said, slippery and slimy even as he pretended to sound paternal, and Wei Wuxian might learn to hate him even more than he hated Wen Chao. He put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, squeezed it, and Jiang Cheng let him – yes, Wei Wuxian could easily learn to hate Jin Guangshan, Jin Guangshan and Jin Guangyao and all the rest of them, just as much as the Wen sect. Maybe even more. “I look forward to working together with the Jiang sect in the future.”

What Jin Guangshan wanted – in exchange for granting whatever request it was that Jiang Cheng had that mattered so much to him – wasn’t going to be anything as easy as cooperation, and Wei Wuxian knew it; he knew it and he burned with the knowledge of it.

With the knowledge that he’d left Jiang Cheng to face this alone.

That he’d allowed himself to leave his brother behind because of the Jin sect’s manipulations – that if he’d only trusted Jiang Cheng enough to share with him his weakness, to stand with him rather than apart from him, they could have stood up to the Jin sect, to the world, they could have done something, and instead he’d selfishly thought he could do everything on his own, that he didn’t need anyone, that they would be better off without him than with him –

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng murmured. He looked even more broken now than he’d been before. “As you say.”

Jin Guangshan’s hand, still on Jiang Cheng’s shoulder, tightened. It was visible, which meant that Jin Guangshan’s grip was probably bruising, breaking. “Don’t forget to respect your elders, Sect Leader Jiang. You mustn’t forget your etiquette.”

Wei Wuxian had always respected Jiang Cheng, even when they were children, even when his arrogance refused to admit that there was anyone who could be anywhere near as good as himself, and that respect had only grown over the years. Brave, independent Jiang Cheng, who’d fought so hard to build the Jiang sect back up into something of its own, refusing to yield to fate and allow his inheritance to scatter into the wind –

Watching him kneel to pay homage to a monster, to call him ‘Chief Cultivator’ and agree numbly to support his future proposals – practically giving away his Jiang sect’s independence –

Wei Wuxian wanted to cry.

(Maybe this was what it had all been about. Not his demonic cultivation, not the Tiger Seal, not the power they could give to the Jin sect – this. This display of domination, of oppression; the Jin sect putting the Jiang underfoot.)

Whatever you’re getting for this had better be worth it, Jiang Cheng!

When it was done, Jiang Cheng looked up. “I’ll go now,” he said, throat hoarse as if from keeping himself from screaming – or crying. “I’ll take him – there won’t be any trouble, will there?”

“None whatsoever,” Jin Guangshan said, and smiled. “After all, A-Ling is very young. It’s no hardship to let him be raised a few years by his maternal family, to learn the traditions of the Jiang sect…since after all his poor mother isn’t around to teach him.”

Jiang Cheng barely flinched as he stood to go – he was beyond that – but Wei Wuxian howled in rage and despair.

We have to be able to do something, he begged Suibian. Something – anything! I can’t…this is my fault. If it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t have to do this – please!

He had to admit that Jiang Cheng wasn’t wrong, to do what he did. Complicity, future guilt, present humiliation...it was all worth it. For all the future pain it would cause Jiang Cheng, it was worth it – to him, to Wei Wuxian – anything would be worth saving Jiang Yanli’s son.

Nothing has changed, Suibian said, solemn for once. I’m still just a sword. I can seal myself, but I can’t act on my own, not without a wielder.

Then what do I do?

Cultivate, Suibian said. A lot. I’ve been thinking about it: sword spirits are a thing, so are ghosts – it’ll take a while, but if we work at it, you’ll eventually be able to float outside of me. A while after that, you might even be able to manifest to humans. We’re both pretty bright; it shouldn’t take more than a few years.

Years!

Were you expecting this to be easy?

Wei Wuxian thought about Jiang Cheng, gritting his teeth and disregarding his pride to save his nephew; thought about Jin Guangyao smiling peaceably as he reported on the latest atrocities their pet demonic cultivators had caused in the same tone he used to discuss the weather; thought about that poor child, Mo Xuanyu, who’d been dragged into the Jin sect’s pit of vipers –

No, he said. I guess not.

Let’s begin.

[lgbtpolitics]

Would like to know more of your thoughts on Sex Education if you have the time! I like it but it certainly has its faults

In terms of plot: Season 1 was very good, we originally started watching it just to see how cringey it was and we got pretty sucked in. Season 2 was decent up to the end, I really disliked the play, Mr Groff going all Regina George and especially Adam running on stage to hold Eric's hand while everyone cheered. I know its deliberately meant to be OTT but I felt like this was taking it way too far. Season 3 was annoying tbh I mean I still watched it and was relatively invested but they massively jumped the shark imo. I read a review that said the problem was that Otis used to be known for his insightful commentary and communication but now everyone seems to have that skill. This hit the nail on the head imo - with everyone having magically become uber progressive and honest about their feelings and all this there was no natural conflict, everything either came out of nowhere or was in the form of the Disney villain esque headmistress.

In regards to the political themes of the show: well... there were already some issues earlier on, the worst (imo) plotline happened in season 1, and that is the revenge porn plot where an image of Ruby's vagina is circulated round the school. This is resolved by her "owning" it and becoming more confident or whatever, and her friendship with the girl who did it is rekindled. This is treated like an argument gone a bit far, rather than a very serious sexual offense. Really got under my skin.

Aside from a few bits like that, most of the show is what I would consider a "normal" level of problematic ie its stuff that you would find in most shows. Not that it makes it okay because "everyone's doing it" but it wouldn't jump out at me anywhere near as much if the show wasn't heralded like legitimately educational for teens in terms of sex and other underrepresented issues.

For example, Ruby going to get the morning after pill and being asked personal questions in front of Otis that advance her character development. The thing is, a lot of girls shy away from getting contraception like this specifically because they are concerned about being asked invasive questions and embarrassed. However, this will not happen - while they may require information before they give it to you, if you are given the morning after pill, or indeed any other medication that requires some backstory, they will not put you on the spot infront of the whole shop but take you into a private area and you would not be obliged to have Otis come in. If they did start asking questions like that you'd be within your rights to ask them to take it somewhere more private, and again most of them will do this by default.

In a regular show I would a bit annoyed at this but its really just a maybe misjudged bit of artistic license to move the plot. However, if the show is going to be considered a genuine resource for sexual education then the morning after pill is absolutely not the place for artistic license and it drives me mad.

I also think a lot of the points made in the show are borderline Conservative dressed up in progressive speak. For instance, every time a woman isn't feeling good during sex, Otis immediately jumps to inquiring about their emotional investment, whether they are really in love etc. Whilst the connection between emotional health and sexual health is a good one to make, I can't help but feel it is heavily gendered, and dismisses the physical side of it. It is entirely possible to be having bad sex with someone you totally love and good sex with someone you don't. The show seems to make out that this isn't true, particularly for women. For instance when the lesbian couple in s1 aren't vibing during sex and Otis refuses to talk about the physical instead of the emotional, and of course turns out to be right about this.

Combining these two points, a particularly specific issue i have with this show is how often it seems to be saying that women should enjoy being penetrated with no foreplay, unless there is Something Going On. Poor Lily is the epicenter of this, with partners frequently trying to shove something in their with no build up, and this is constantly explained with either her not being ready and/or vaginismus. Again, I do not object to these things being part of the show, but penetration without proper arousal WILL hurt, it will hurt anyone. So why, when Otis, allegedly a sex expert, is asked about this, is "did you do any foreplay" not his first question?? Why does Ola, who has her own vagina and has been fingered before, think Lily will want her to just jam her fingers in and act surprised when it hurts??

These are just examples but I feel like it was very frequent across the show to have plotlines that feed into myths, often sexist myths, about sex yet it has a reputation for correcting myths about sex.

It also has a reputation for good lgbt representation yet it often misses the mark there too. People complain a lot about Adam and Eric but ironically I don't hate that - there are a few specific issues but I don't think the whole "bully is secretly gay and they end up dating" is too badly done in this context. I feel like some of my issues with it stem from what I said about the plot - in the second and third series lots of people became a walking woke twitter account, and as such homophobia became non existent. It makes it seem like any issues with his sexuality were all in Adams head, and also that homophobia is only an issue at all for men. Ola discovering she was pansexual via an online quiz, immediately getting a girlfriend and seemingly everyone knew - family as well as the school and there were no problems whatsoever was probably the peak of the silly representation.

There was also that scene where Eric yells at Adam for (seemingly) not wanting to have sex and like... for a show that allegedly preaches consent i have no idea why they thought that was appropriate.

Thats not to say its all bad, there are decent things about Sex Education, having lgbt characters on screen having similar relationships to the heterosexual characters is good, at least originally demonstrating the problems caused by lack of communication was a positive, talking extensively about female pleasure is a good thing, especially the plotline with Amy discovering masturbation was well done I thought. Even discussing things like vaginismus are a net positive even if I dislike the way it was brought up. However I just feel like too much of the show contradicts the purpose that it allegedly has for me to fully be on board.

Note: I know lots of people have issues with the sexualisation of underage characters, albeit adult actors. I do agree, but i don't think its loads worse than other shows. As above this doesn't make it right but I just wanted to stick to the things that are specific to this show.

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter Two - Calling All Callers!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 3.5K

“Your Grace, I-” You sputtered, dipping into a small curtsy, trying to show your respect to the duke’s son. The red-and-white haired man simply raised a hand, waving off the courtesy to show no harm was done.

“There is no need, Miss… Yagi.” Shouto said hesitantly. You gave him a smile and nodded.

“It really is a pleasure to meet you, but I am curious, how do you know my brother?” You ask.

“He and I studied at UA together a couple of years ago.” Izuku commented, beaming at the two of you. A bright grin sprouted across your face.

“Oh, how lovely!” You enthused. “I’ve heard wonderful things from both the critics and Izuku about that institution, people say it’s one of the finest in the country.” This earns a slim smile to spread across Shouto’s face, so thin in fact, that if one weren’t looking specifically for it they would miss it. You just happened to catch it.

“Yes, it was certainly a rewarding experience - the professors there allow a great amount of knowledge to pass through their students.” Shouto’s voice was measured and direct, matching what he was wearing. It was a handsome grey velvet suit with small gold details on the cuffs and coattails, and he had a white cravat with matching gold features. 

“Curses, would you look at the time,” Izuku mutters, in his hand a pocket watch. “I’m terribly sorry to cut this introduction short, but it is time that Y/N and I must be departing.” You shoot your brother a bewildered look.

“But Brother, it is quite early,” You noted, wanting to continue the conversation the three of you were having.

“Under normal circumstances you are indeed correct, but I’m sure you would like to be well-rested for tomorrow morning.” He says, a somewhat shyness seeping into his voice. It then suddenly clicked for you - callers. It was custom that the morning following the first ball of the season, young men would be invited into the homes of the young ladies they had an interest in, often bringing along with them gifts.

“Ah, quite right,” you say softly, the daunting events of the next morning making you a little uneased. Out of a nervous habit, you pulled your silk gloves higher on your arms - even though they were at their highest - and sighed. “Your Grace, it was lovely to meet and converse with you this evening. I do hope you excuse our early departure,” You tell Shouto, genuine disappointment in his voice. Shouto simply nodded.

“Of course, Lady Yagi. It truly was a pleasure.” You cutsied with a simper and took Izuku’s arm.

“We must get together properly, how about you come to our club?” Izuku offers.

“Indeed, that would be nice.” Shouto confirms, a hand outstretched to shake your brother’s. From there you bid your adieu and followed Izuku back to where your father was located. The carriage ride home passed by a lot quicker than you would’ve thought, your mind running rampant with questions about the duke’s son.

“Up, up, up!” You whine as you hear Mei trill about. As soon as she pulls back the curtains, the offensive light shines into your eyes causing you to squint.

“What time is it,” you groan as you arch your back into a stretch. Mei rolls her eyes and gives you a grin.

“It is time for you to get up, Miss Yagi.” She replies. You frown as you hear her address you in such a formal way.

“Mei, I’ve told you before - please call me Y/N. We’ve been friends since we were little.” 

“And I hope you remember that when you marry some rich man,” she quips, earning a stuck out tongue from you. The two of you always were in sync when you were getting ready for the day. You slip into your chemise and moisturize your hands while Mei is behind you tightening the restricting corset around your torso. Then comes the dress. “Which one, Y/N.” Mei asks, making a point to emphasize your name. You give her a smirk and turn your attention to the dresses she was holding. One of them was a pretty pale pink and had a sheer lace pattern on top while the other was a sage green with a darker green satin bow tied around.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, closely inspecting both of them. You acknowledged that both of the colors and features presented a different attitude - while pink bore a more innocent approach to society, the sage green displayed a much more mature tone.

“Personally, I love both, but I think the sage green is your winner.” A deeper but still feminine voice filtered into your room from behind you. Recognizing it immediately, a wide grin spread across your face. You turned around to find your governess from when you were young, Nemuri Kayama.

“Mrs. Kayama!” You exclaim, rushing towards the woman and enveloping her in a hug. While your actions might’ve been seen as improper by most of the public, your relationship with your governess was far different than the norm. When Inko, your mother, died, Nemuri helped to pick up the pieces. She was your father’s friend from when they were younger - happening to live right next to each other. From the raw age of eleven, Nemuri became your mother-figure and governess, teaching you how to become an integral part of society but not be quieted and coddled. She taught you to be strong.

“Y/N my dear, it’s truly been too long since the last time I saw you.” She said earnestly, returning your tight hug. “But we are on a tight schedule today - callers will be coming any moment!” Nemuri exclaimed, leading you back to Mei. “Mei, it is wonderful to see you again.” Mei brightens at the raven-haired woman’s words and smiles. 

“It’s an honor, Mrs. Kayama! And to be clear, we are going with the sage green?” Mei questioned, holding up the pretty dress. With a simple but clear nod, Nemuri allowed space for Mei to help you into your dress as she went to grab something from the basket she carried. 

“Mei, before you do her hair, I have something,” She says, walking back over to you with something wrapped in tissue paper. “For you, my dear.” Nemuri places the wrapped gift in your hand. Daintily, you peeled back the layer to reveal a stunning hair comb. Detailed with gold plated flowers, the comb fit perfectly with your outfit - in the center of each group of petals were pearls.

“Mrs. Kayama…” you say, at a loss for words. Her hands work along with Mei’s as they style your hair into an updo, letting some of the front hairs stay down to make it look more effortless. Finally, Nemuri takes the comb from your hand and nestles it into your hair.

“It was my mother’s and it would be my greatest wish for you to have it.” She says, giving you a smile through your mirror.

“I couldn’t possibly-” you start.

“Y/N. I want you to have it. I have no children, nor will I ever, but I do have you.” Nemuri rests her hands lightly on your shoulders. You bring one of yours up to touch her’s, grabbing hold of it.

“Thank you.”

“Miss Yagi, I would encourage you to settle into the parlor soon, it’s almost 11 o’clock,” A maid said from around the corner. You quickly stood and slipped on your lacy gloves and looked back to both Mei and Nemuri for a final approval of your outfit. You were greeted with encouraging smiles - all you needed to scamper off down the stairs and into the parlor. Waiting there was both your father who was reading this morning’s newspaper.

“Sorry for being a bit tardy, I was catching up with Mrs. Kayama,” you explain, settling onto one of the pristine white couches that adorned the beautiful room. Originally designed and decorated by your late mother, it was full of everything she loved. From the powder pink walls to the white detailing, the beautiful chandelier that dangled from the ceiling, and the most comfortable but chic furniture, all of it seemed to scream ‘Inko’.

“That’s quite alright darling,” he says taking a sip of his tea.

“Is Izuku off with Lady Uraraka? I remember him mentioning that he wanted to take her to the sweets shop downtown,” You mention, smoothing out the folds of your dress.

“Actually, he is-” Your father begins but is cut off by the shuffling of feet. He simply waves the conversation off, signaling that the two of you would continue it later. You, however, were scrambling to your feet in order to look presentable. In walked two of your butlers, and behind them, a group of about five young men.

“Callers for Miss Yagi?” 

And with one sentence, those four little words, your afternoon was whirled into a twister. You felt flattered, of course, but some of the young men that called for you were just so… dull. Just like at the ball the previous night, Lord Ojirou was kind but boring - his conversation going in one ear and out the other. But, to be polite, you wore a kind smile and nodded when needed. Sir Koda was incredibly shy, so you had to take the reins on your chat. It wasn’t awful, in fact, he was a rather nice man to talk to. He was even so kind hearted as to bring you two white parakeets - a gift for giving him your time. Lord Kaibara and Lord Shoda were both nice enough, each bearing expensive flowers and boxes of sweets. And finally, you were onto the worst out of the bunch. You figured that the afternoon was going nicely, a bit too nicely. Then, of course, Lord Mineta had to walk on in. While he brought along a gift that was nice enough, a pair of sheer lace gloves, he was insufferable to converse with. You made eye contact with your father several times and knew that if he could kick the young lord out, he would, but for the sake of your family’s reputation he abstained. You suppressed a sigh as your conversation with Lord Mineta took quite a serious turn, already talking about a possible engagement between the two of you.

“Oh Miss Yagi, I can see it now - you and I, a large house in the midst of the city, about ten children-”

“Ten?!” You exclaim, a nervous smile on your face as you brought out your fan.

“But of course!” Your conversation with him continued down this unfortunate path but you chose to focus on the opening door behind him to reveal your brother. You let a breath of relief flow out from you as you saw his familiar face, but it soon morphed to one of curiosity, because behind him, was Shouto Todoroki. You registered Lord Mineta continuing to drone on but your eyes stayed on the duke’s son, watching his simple mannerisms as he followed Izuku to where your father was sitting. It only took another moment for the red-and-white haired man to return your gaze. It was like a fresh rain had descended upon you - a wave of solace seemed to wash over you as your eye-contact remained, finding comfort in his heterochromatic eyes. It was broken, however, when you felt someone’s hands on top of your gloved ones. Wrenching your head back quickly to the man, if you could even call him that, in front of you, you started to feel a light panic rise within you. What on Earth am I doing entertaining this guy? Like hell would I ever become engaged to a man like him, you thought.

“As I was saying, Lady Yagi, I was mentioning how it would be more than kind of you to join me to promenade tomorrow - perhaps noon?” Lord Mineta said, a sickening smirk spreading across his face. You glanced over at Shouto to see he was still looking at you and flashed him a look of desperation.

“I, umm, that is very kind of you Lord Mineta, however I find myself occupied tomorrow.” You say, trying to find any excuse to get out of the situation he hopes to find the two of you in.

“That is curious because I remember talking to the other callers you so selflessly entertained and they mentioned nothing about making plans with you,” Damn, he caught me in a lie. I am surely in for it now.

“That’s because I have made plans with Lady Yagi.” A cool tone graced the room and you turned your head to look up at the speaker. Shouto stood next to you and looked at Lord Mineta with indifference in his expression, but pure confidence flickered in his eyes.

“O-Of course Your Grace!” Lord Mineta stuttered, letting go of your hands. You quickly returned your hands to your side, accidentally brushing one across Shouto’s sleeve. “If you would excuse me, I have some business to attend to! Lovely, of course, to chat with you Miss Yagi.” He says and walks quickly out of the room. As soon as the doors were shut, you sighed with relief and turned to face Shouto.

“Thank you so much for helping me,” you confess, giving him a tired smile. “I don’t intend to be rude, but Lord Mineta was-”

“He was incredibly inappropriate and completely mindless.” He says. The bluntness of his words made you laugh, even causing you to bend over a bit.

“Nicely put, Your Grace.” You compliment, amusement still leaking from your voice. He gives you a small smile. “Were you and Izuku at our family’s club? I hope everything was to your satisfaction,” You comment, inviting him to take a seat next to you on the couch. He takes your offer and settles down beside you.

“It was very pleasant indeed, your family was kind enough to provide me with the finest of activities there.” He confirms. You grin and discard your gloves, wanting to rid Lord Mineta’s presence from your memory. You don’t realize, being too preoccupied with the lacy accessories, but his breath hitched a bit at your casual actions.

“I normally don’t get to go, it being a gentleman’s place and all,” you say as you arrange the gloves by your side, “but on special occasions when it’s closed I do love to go horseback riding there. The paths and roads there are always brimming with beauty.” You look back to him.

“Unfortunately I wasn’t able to partake in such recreations, perhaps I shall take a ride another time.” Shouto says.

“I’m sure my brother would love to take you, he absolutely adores his horse but don’t tell anyone I told you that.” You snicker, eyeing Izuku to make sure he wasn’t listening. It seemed to be that he was very absorbed in a conversation with your father, one that he started the moment he walked into the parlor.

“Well, if things go according to plan for Izuku, I do believe he will have less opportunities to give his time to his friends.” Shouto says, a warmer tone to his voice. It took a moment to connect the dots, but your face lit up when it did.

“Is he asking father to permit him to propose to Lady Uraraka?!” You whisper-squeal, your head drifting closer to Shouto’s.

“Indeed,” He whispers back, his smile beginning to widen.

“Well, if he’s too busy to accompany you, I wouldn’t mind doing so.” You say softly, your eyes flicking back to his. Noticing the not-so-far distance between the two of you, you lean back and blush. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, showing nothing to insinuate that he was uncomfortable.

“That would be nice, Miss Yagi.” You think a bit at how he addresses you and smiles.

“Please, Your Grace, call me Y/N. You see, whenever I do an activity with another whether it be picnicking, eating flavored ice, or horseback riding, I consider them my friend. And as my friend, I prefer to be called by my first name.” You say confidently. You can see Shouto clearly process your words and he in turn gives you a soft smile.

“If I am to call you Y/N, then if you wouldn’t mind, I would like you to call me Shouto.” For some reason, butterflies seemed to take flight in your chest when he said those words to you - like your soul had told you that this moment was one to remember.

“Alright then, Shouto.” You quip, a sly grin donning your face.

“How about tomorrow then?” He suggests quickly. You sit back, stunned a bit as his eagerness.

“Huh?” You say shocked.

“Well I did say that I had plans with you tomorrow,” His voice seemed to become a bit more shy as he explained himself, but still held steady. Recalling your interaction from earlier, you laugh a bit and nod.

“Yes, you certainly did. Tomorrow should do splendidly.” You assure him.

“Thank you Father! Thank you!” Your brother’s shouts of excitement pulled you from your conversation with the duke’s son and towards Izuku.

“What? What happened?” You stand up and rush over to your father and brother. Izuku seemed to have a sparkle in his eye, and wait, was that a tear?

“Tomorrow I will be proposing to Lady Uraraka.” He says breathlessly. You let out a shriek of excitement and wrap your arms around him, giving him a bone crushing hug.

“Izuku, that’s wonderful!” You shout with glee. The two of you spin around a bit and you were stationary enough to catch Shouto’s eye, a look of happiness spread across his face.

“Sorry, we can be kind of an energetic family,” You laugh, straightening your dress back out. He, to your surprise, chuckles.

“No, no, I’m not bothered by any means.” He replies. Shouto checks his pocket watch and sighs, regretfully looking back up to the three of you. “Unfortunately, I must be taking my leave. My father and I have some things to take care of, but Lady Yagi, I look forward to our sally tomorrow.” He says, tucking his pocket watch back into his coat.

“Y/N.” You emphasize. Shouto nods and smiles.

“Y/N.” He says, waving as he steps out of the parlor. As soon as it’s confirmed he exited your house, both your father and brother turned to you, expectant expressions on their faces. “What?” You ask, walking back over to fold up your gloves, handing them to a maid so that she could rush them to the washroom.

“Well, how were your callers?” Izuku asked. You roll your eyes and stretch your arms, feeling a little stiff after sitting for hours upon hours.

“They were… fine. Sir Koda was certainly nice to talk to and Lord Ojirou was, well, nice.” You realize that the two of them weren’t really satisfied with your responses, looking for more. “Really, that’s all I can say. None of them were that wondrous.” Your father hummed and closed his newspaper, standing up to rub a hand affectionately on your shoulder.

“You seemed quite friendly with the duke’s son,” he said, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. Unwillingly, you felt your face heat up and try to temper it before it became apparent to the two men.

“Oh, Shouto? He is very polite and kind - the two of us are actually going riding tomorrow.” You say casually as you take a teacup from the table and take a sip of the chamomile that was sitting in it. You hummed at the taste, calmness running through your nerves.

“Shouto, huh?” Izuku said, wiggling his eyebrows and nudging you with his shoulders. You simply rolled your eyes and set the teacup back on its saucer.

“Izuku, you know my friendship policy,” you respond.

“So that was all you planned for? Being friends with him?” You father inquired, a genuine look of curiosity on his face.

“Well, yes, that was what I planned for. I wouldn’t mind it at all if he was my friend. In fact, I would like it very much.” You decide, a soft smile spreading across your face.

“Sis, I know that smile,” Izuku says, pointing a finger at your face.

“What smile am I wearing then?” You ask, raising a brow.

“It’s the same one when Father brought Lord Takami by when you were thirteen.” He says, smiling cockily. The blush on your face returned and you shook your head.

“You're being foolish,” you respond, gently pushing your brother away, earning grins and chuckles from your father and Izuku. While you tried to negate your feelings, you couldn’t help but let yourself admire Shouto - granted, it may be in a more, well, romantic way then you would’ve originally intended. However, that is probably not what he needed. He needed a friend to go horseback riding with and that was what you would be. For now.

A/N: In case any of you were confused, the reason why Shouto got so flustered when Y/N took of their gloves is because it was technically considered improper for women to physically touch a man whose not part of her family without wearing them. So, even though Y/N didn’t touch him, he was still a little shocked by her casual actions :) 

[hollyhomburg]

since youve been to korea what are some places youd recommend? like ik im going to tourist-y areas cuz im that person that wants to see it at least once but what about local spots? or locally-known clubs/ bars/ cafes that are cool? are there bad areas in Seoul that foreigners or specifically americans, should stay away from? i'd love to hear what places stood out to you or that were really fun!

i would try to hike a mountain at least once while you're there- a lot of people go to Namsan tower but it’s a little overpriced and you can see just as nice a view- or an even better view, from the top of one of their many mountians. Dongdaemun culture park is cool- but go at night to see the roses (IDK if they still have that installation thought. The river is beautiful definitely worth it, and Seoul national forest is a bitch to get too but you can feed the deer and see the bunnies- it’s beautiful if you go around fall. 

The best barbeque places are the ones that look the least nice- and usually, you can find an all you can eat option which is like 9-12 USD, you shouldn’t be paying any more for all you can eat- unless it’s super fancy and they have multiple kinds of meat or it’s marinated. try the convenience store food at least once because it’s incredibly delicious and inexpensive. when you go to order a coffee- anything without milk is an americano, and a coffee with cream and sugar is what most Koreans call a latte- unless you’re in a really fancy coffee shop in Gangnam.

and gangnam- while it is cool- almost everything is overpriced and there's not as much to do there to be honest unless you want to pay a lot of money to listen to some dj’s. There are a lot of good dj’s in seoul- but clubs that have good ones usually have a cover fee- expect to pay anywhere from 10-35$. beware of being drugged, it happened to me at the most popular bar in gangnam which is called octagon.

 if you want to go to a place to meet Koreans who speak English- go to one of the bars called ‘Thursday party’ there's one in Hongdae and one in Itaewon. there are probably more by now tbh because they were pretty popular (and also a little crappy) but let's just say that’s the spot where hook-up culture is well and alive in korea. a few more good bars are norebar in sinchon and urban space (try their sangria), (if both of these are still there). 

be mindful of where you’re walking at night- most places are safe, but you have to be watchful. the only place I would avoid is mapo, and I wouldn’t walk anywhere at night- especially achasan. But almost everywhere has cctv so you shouldn’t worry about safety too much. the best things about Seoul are its public transportation, low rent, food, and parks, and the worst thing is probably the judgemental older generation but no one can fault them for that.

you will not feel as comfortable dressing the way you want or expressing your gender identity the way you want in Seoul as you would in other countries. definitely a caution to anyone Poc- it will be harder to get into bars especially if you’re a dude. Korean people can be racist- I'm not trying to be offensive towards Korean people that's just what I observed when I went there. Also caution to anyone blonde with titts- they will think you are a prostitute and deny you service at most hotels, hostels, and taxis unless you're in a large group.  

keep in mind the last time i was in Seoul was 2 years ago so some of my information might be a little dated- but yeah, that's what I would tell anyone planning to travel to Seoul!

[satanfemme]

hi king i was wondering whats like. volumes fave thing to do with the other v's (individually if u want!)

!!! gonna do this individually just cause I can, thank you

with Val - any kind of productive tasks, not cause Volume especially likes chores, but because with Val they tend to be pretty tolerable. with something specific to focus his energy towards, Val's a lot chiller during things like grocery runs or cleaning days. these kinds of mindless collaborative tasks also give Val and Volume the chance to actually chat for once, which Volume also really enjoys (when he's not too busy being a dick, Val has some interesting things to say!)

I think the one exception to all this^ would be with tasks like planning claps/etc. its not the worst way to spend a day either, ofc, but Val tends to lean into offensive strategies moreso than actually defensive or protective of anyone, so he quickly loses that "chores make him chill" exterior during this kind of planning 🙄.

Vaya - zine making (or anything similar)! Volume is super into all that kinds of DIY punk stuff, and Vaya is super into drawing and crafting, so they vibe together so well on projects like these. Volume is especially good with music or punk themed zines (as that's the kind of thing he hyperfixates on), but he's also made some pretty shiny poetry or community themed zines with Vaya too.

there's also a print shop reletively near the nest so when they have the spare carbons (or the shop owner owes them a favor) they can mass produce a batch of zines to hand out in more places than just the nest itself!

Vamos - fashion shopping and dressing up! this is another shared interest Volume has with a different ultra v, cause although Vamos and Volume have differing aesthetic preferences, they're both big on campy DIY fashion so they'll gladly spend a day together shopping at a market and/or making their own clothes and accessories.

and then, since there's not much else going on in the zones, they'll take turns dressing up and posing for each other (and if they're lucky, they'll even have a spare polaroid camera to document each other's Outfits(tm) with; before the nest got blown up they had a lot of photos like this laying around or hung up)

Vinyl - oh what doesn't he like doing with Vinyl hdghd, they're super close (knew each other first before the ultra vs formed) so they could spend a day doing anything from reading to sparing and Volume would have fun with it either way. but I think his favorite activity with Vinyl would probably be going to underground shows with him. they both have similar enough music tastes and nothing beats getting all dressed up for a basement performance at the fuck you house or something, just to join a mosh pit once there.

shows with Vinyl are especially fun because Vaya and Vamos tend to gravitate towards bigger concerts where half the fun is the party itself, while Val doesn't really get too enthusiastic about most shows to begin with, but with Vinyl (besides just having similar tastes like I said before) the two of them can both really appreciate the music and scene and art(tm) of it all as well. they'll sometimes get back to the nest at like 4 am and stay up another hour or two just talking about the band or the performance and what they thought of it.

[davidmann95]

Comics this week (11/25/2020)?

Anonymous said: This week's floppies?

Anonymous said: This week’s comics?

Anonymous said: Have you read Red Hood #51 yet? It’s one of the best stories Jason has been in since Under the Red Hood and I don’t think I can go back to his normal stories after this

Anonymous said: God damn the Other History of the DC Universe has a pretty brutal call out of Superman, yet as a Superman fan I wasn’t offended or put off by it at all. Ridley specifically narrowed in on one of the key flaws of Superman, his need for public love and approval. What did you think of the portrayal of Supes?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on "The Other History of the DC Universe" and why it's already one of the greatest comics of all time?

Anonymous said: Thoughts on "Other History"?

X-Men #15: Heck yeah, Quiet Council discussing protocol, this is what I come to Jonathan Hickman’s X-Men for, and Cyclops getting his Captain America in Hickvengers moment.

X of Swords: Destruction: Look this rules and I guess I understood the Arakko story by the end but not the Otherworld/Captain Britain stuff, and it’s the former that’s gonna matter to Hick-Men going forward. But I don’t care if it put a ‘_ of 22′ counter across the top, if a crossover is for real going to demand you buy 22 comics in 3 months for you to see the entire core story you need to be screaming that from the rooftops with every single interview that it’s genuinely the whole thing that’s essential, because editorial claiming that you should totally get everything aside that’s not how crossovers have actually worked since the 90s no matter how many checklists and reading orders may be provided. This whole thing really sorta felt like the Infinity of this run, good stuff but ultimately Hickman serving a master beyond telling his own story - in this case trying to provide a forcible on-ramp from Marvel’s hottest book to all the ancillary related stuff.

Shang-Chi #3: This continues to be a really solid little mini with some poignant bits.

Power Pack #1: Haven’t read much if anything with them in it before, but as good as I could have hoped of Ryan North’s first post-Unbeatable Squirrel Girl Marvel gig.

Fantastic Four: Antithesis #4: Fine, but it would have been so much funnier if Waid’s last Marvel work before finally returning to DC had been that cancelled Squadron Supreme two-shot.

Daredevil #24: God so goooooood. And next issue’s next week?!

The Department of Truth #3: Imagine going literally any duration back in time, handing this to someone who’d read and even enjoyed his work, and explaining “THAT’S the level James Tynion is going to end up operating on”.

BANG!: My shop got the TPB this week of the recent mini by Kindt and Torres, and this is a top-notch reimagining of assorted 80s action/pseudo-pulp archetypes into something modern and strange and delightful, that while technically concluding somewhat tidily if the sales aren’t there is set up to go on for as long as the creative team has ideas for it. It taps into that America’s Best Comics/Planetary/Adventureman energy for a slightly different branch of genre storytelling, and even if like me it’s not an iteration you grew up with it’s definitely worth your money and attention.

Dark Nights: Death Metal: The Multiverse Who Laughs: It’s fine, whatever, just a buncha little Dark Multiverse stories...except for the last story, where the Twilight Zone-esque shocker final twist is that being black in America and thereby constantly experiencing the constant low-grade terror of the background radiation of systemic racism essentially acts as a vaccine against Scarecrow’s fear toxin, which...okay??? It’s written by a black man so it’s not as if I think it’s offensive, but particularly given that given the rules of the Dark Multiverse one of the three characters in there had to have imagined this possibility, and that then The Batman Who Laughs must’ve seen it and gone “Hell yes, all about this, definitely one of the 52 scariest of all possible universe”, it’s a serious candidate for weirdest comic of the year.

Legion of Superheroes #11: This is an excellent kickoff to a 3 or 4-issue arc so I have absolutely no idea how it’s going to reach some kind of season finale next month.

Action Comics #1027: Romita Jr.’s deteriorating by the day but I did like his take on the Phantom Zone, and I feel like this while taking it a bit farther than I’d prefer still convincingly sells the idea of Superman just being absolutely fed up after a truly awful day.

Justice League Dark #28: So is this the end of the run, Future State notwithstanding? Shocking how coherently it held together through the transition in writers, and I really hope it says and so does Ram V to take it in a direction wholly his own.

Wonder Woman #767: Substantially improved now that it’s not working off the completely bizarre and increasingly uncomfortable ‘buddy-cop’ premise.

Red Hood #51: GOOD NOW?! I checked it out because of the rec above and because I was curious how someone would try and salvage the concept post-Lobdell, and while it obviously isn’t literally by him, Shawn Martinbrough and Tony Akins are for all the world doing a Christopher Priest Relaunch with this tonally and aesthetically; I think it’s even a direct sequel to Priest’s Batman: The Hill oneshot from decades ago. I sure hope this isn’t a two-issue filler run with the book either cancelled or reshuffled after Future State, because this has all the makings of an excellent crime comic.

Suicide Squad #11: I’ll probably check out Taylor’s Revolutionaries book once that happens, so I guess mission accomplished. Fine little run.

The Other History of the DC Universe #1: I heard someone on Twitter say this is the best thing that’s come out of superhero comics since HoXPoX, and I don’t know if I’m on that level with it but that is absolutely a fair conclusion. I’ll be honest, I had measured expectations here from having seen some of Ridley’s past comics work - I figured it’d be a perfectly solid book with a few standout moments, but instead it throws out all the haymakers in the world and emerges as one of my favorite comics of 2020, even given we’re only seeing the one issue this year. I can only judge so much because it feels like a lot of what we see in this debut is going to be completely reframed through the perspectives of other characters in subsequent entries, but standalone this is a brutal, intimate, brilliant character study set against the backdrop of a hazy dreamscape vision of the history of DC reformatted as needed to fit the concerns in play here (though the dates presented are so specific I wonder if aspects of this are leftovers of the original version of 5G), and probably as close as we’re going to see to a ‘trilogy capper’ to The Golden Age and New Frontier. That’s why the take on Superman here works, as much a product of the worst of his mass-consciousness image as the Superman of DKR but meshed with a profound understanding of what makes him tick as a character that makes the inherently compromised version on display here palatable, and a believable extrapolation of the Silver/Bronze Age’s version of him when that’s the era this series is thus far working as a contrast to. And god, the art. I always liked him fine enough, but even with finishes by Andrea Cucchi and colors by Jose Villarrubia I never could have imagined Giuseppe Camuncoli putting out the likes of this, and Steve Wands’s lettering is doing at least equal legwork in defining the look of the book. There have been several impressive titles out of Black Label at this point - Last Knight on Earth, Rorschach, Strange Adventures, and especially Harleen - but nothing else has come close to demonstrating the potential power of the imprint as a vehicle for creators taking this iconography and doing something radical and unrestrained and phenomenal with it.

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Forty Six

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

November 13th, 1997

Emile ignored the jeering in the high school hallways. The bigots were not going to stop him from loving who he loved. Just because his dating pool was twice as large as some others, they were scared of him. That was okay, though. It just meant he had a lot more power than they could comprehend.

He sighed as he got to his locker to find someone had spray painted a three-letter slur on it. “Whatever,” he sighed. “Not like it matters.” Doesn’t mean it didn’t sting a little bit. But he definitely didn’t regret arguing with his health teacher about bisexuality. He would stand up for his identity over letting bigotry reign any day.

  October 20th, 2001

It was on a day where Emile was picking up Remy from work. Emile couldn’t help but wonder if Dick had planned this, lying in wait until both Emile and Remy were in the same spot so they could spend less time hunting them down. They walked out of Starbucks, chatting and laughing about something that Emile had all but forgotten about. But as they reached the parking lot in the back, Dick and four or five football players crossed their path on the way to Emile’s car. “Oh, right on time,” Dick said with a pleased smile. “These two are the ones. Aviators slapped me in the theatre, and Sweater Vest has been checking me out in the locker rooms.”

“Oh, honey, you wish,” Emile scoffed, crossing his arms.

Remy looked at Emile with surprise. “Emile,” he said in a low voice. “We can’t win this.”

Emile shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I won’t go down swinging.”

“Oh, you should listen to your boyfriend, Emile,” Dick spat. “It’ll be over so much faster if you don’t fight.”

“You make it sound like you’re going to attempt murder,” Emile said, looking down his nose at Dick. He wasn’t quite as big as the tallest of the football players, but he was tall enough to make most people think twice about bothering him. Unfortunately, Dick seemed to be especially stubborn. And he had backup. “You know that’s generally frowned upon, don’t you?”

Dick snarled and Remy looked between the two of them uncertainly. “Look. I said you could fight me, Dick,” Remy said. “I specifically told you to leave Emile out of this.”

“No can do,” Dick said with a false-apologetic shrug. “He’s the problem here, after all.”

“I’m the—?!” Emile sputtered. “I’m the problem?! I’m just trying to exist, and you’re the one who’s finding that offensive! I want to be able to go home at night to whoever I happen to love! And since I don’t love you, my being bisexual is none of your business! Nor is it anyone’s but mine and my friends’!”

One of the football players growled. “Enough chatter,” he snapped. “Square up, pansies, if you want a chance at seeing tomorrow.”

Emile’s hands balled into fists and he took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to make the first move. Making the first move meant this could be blamed on him. He waited, watching, and when the guy pulled his fist back, Emile ducked his swing and sucker-punched him. The guy staggered backward, groaning. “You know,” Emile said conversationally, “You probably shouldn’t mess with people you don’t know. Some of them might have had friends who took martial arts and taught them a thing or two.”

That only served to aggravate the others, and Emile turned to Remy, who was staring at him in shock. “Rem, might want to run.”

“No way,” Remy said. “If you’re staying, I’m staying. You’re not the only one who knows how to fight.”

Emile nodded, even though he admittedly worried. He knew that Remy wouldn’t have offered Dick his working addresses if he couldn’t fight a little, but they were going up against linebackers here. The only way to get out of this mostly unscathed would be to fight dirty, and Emile was decidedly not looking forward to that.

The linebackers stepped forward and Emile braced himself for the worst. He wished he could say that there was an epic fight scene, where he and Remy moved in time with one another and while they did take some of the hit, the others barely left a scratch on them compared to what Emile and Remy achieved. But that's not what happened. The first linebacker brought his fist back but before anyone could fight anymore, one of the workers ran out the back of the Starbucks, yelling, “Hey, break it up!”

She panted as she ran over and scolded the linebackers. “Just what do you think you’re doing, going after two guys who are obviously going to lose to you! I don’t care what they did to tick you off, but you don’t get to go around hitting people whenever you want!”

“They’re fags!” one of the linebackers explained.

“Are they now?” the woman scoffed. “That’s news to me, considering that one of them is my boyfriend!” She walked over to Remy and looked him over. “You okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” Remy said, sounding a little dazed as the woman cupped his cheek.

“What? But?! No! No, they’re dating each other!” Dick exclaimed.

“Two guys can be best friends without having to be gay,” the woman said, giving Dick a withering glare. “Frankly, I’m unimpressed with your behavior. Going after two guys like Remy and Emile, what’s the matter with you? They’re kind and would never dream of hurting a soul!”

Emile was catching on to what the woman was doing and he offered her a smile. “Thanks for sticking up for us,” he said.

“Of course, Emile, any time,” she said. She turned to the others, who were now getting agitated with Dick. “If I see any of you fighting back here again I’ll let the manager know and we can find out what she thinks of your behaviour!”

That seemed to successfully scare all of them, because it was no secret that the Starbucks here was where most college kids went to hang out, and no one wanted to get banned from the store. The linebackers dragged Dick off despite his protests, and the woman turned back to Emile and Remy. “Remy, you have to stop getting yourself into trouble with homophobes, there’s only so many times I can pretend to be your girlfriend.”

“I know, August,” Remy laughed. “But thank you for doing it this time. Seriously. I was worried.”

“You had every right to be, you both would have wound up getting seriously hurt if the fighting had continued beyond one sucker punch.” August looked at Emile. “And frankly, I’m surprised that you would even fight anyone, Mister Pacifist.”

“They were going to try and hurt Remy, and like you said, they were homophobes. I don’t tolerate homophobes,” Emile said with a shrug. “I don’t think we’ve properly met before?”

“Not officially, no,” August laughed. “I’m August, Remy’s work-best-friend, and officially done with the both of you.”

Emile laughed a little. “Yeah, well, we should be going anyway, so we can get out of your hair soon enough.”

August rolled her eyes. “That’s not the main issue here,” she said. “The main issue is the both of you getting into fights you can’t win. You have to pick your battles.”

“Dick was harassing Emile, I would not let that stand under any circumstances,” Remy said firmly.

“You also slapped Dick hard enough to send him sprawling to the floor, which is probably why he brought the linebackers out today.”

Remy shrugged. “Maybe so,” he allowed. “But all things considered, I think we’re doing okay. I mean, think about it. Dick is going to be painted as a liar to the football team now. They won’t back him up when he claims that someone is gay anymore. That saves a lot of people a lot of trouble.”

Emile sighed. “That really should not be your basis of ‘everything being okay,’” he pointed out. “Just not being harassed should not be ‘okay,’ it should be the bare minimum.”

“Oh, no, that’s not the only reason things are okay,” Remy said. “But you not being harassed and being able to go to your gym class without fear is kinda...reason to be happy. And if I have enough reasons to be happy, then things should be ultimately ‘okay.’”

“I’ll let you two continue this argument without me, off the property,” August said. “Go on, off with you both. We really don’t need anyone asking what happened that caused me to be out here for longer than ten minutes. Everyone could tell something was going to happen when Dick walked by with the football players, but no one needs to know about the details of this little skirmish, agreed?”

Emile and Remy both muttered agreements.

August smiled. “Good. Then get lost, knuckleheads!”

Remy laughed and dragged Emile to the car. Emile watched the girl walk back into the coffee shop. “That would be the August you talk about after work?” he asked.

“Yep, she’s the best,” Remy said with a grin. “Next to you, of course.”

Emile held a hand to his chest. “Oh, you flatter me,” he teased.

“No, seriously, Emile,” Remy said, grin softening into a genuine smile. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“What, I’m your manic pixie dream boy now?” Emile laughed.

Remy cackled. “Shut up!” he exclaimed. “I’m trying to be serious!”

Emile softly kissed Remy. “I know, my love,” he said.

“...Although, if you were going to be my manic pixie dream boy, we should dye your hair some ridiculous color. Like. Hot pink,” Remy said.

“Uh, no,” Emile laughed. “My bosses would kill me. Your blond hair is ideal for dying, but we’d have to bleach mine, let that sit for several days, then dye it, and if it winds up being super unhealthy, I’m screwed.”

Remy pouted. “What’s the point in being a manic pixie dream boy if you can’t dye your hair wild colors?”

“Well, I would argue I’m not a manic pixie dream boy,” Emile said. “But whatever. How about this: if I get my own therapy practice once I’m free from the whole...retail and college hell thing, and we’re still together, you can dye my hair hot pink with semi-permanent dye.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Remy warned.

Emile rolled his eyes. “I know.”

“And you still say it?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged. “Well, I trust that you won’t like...ruin my career over it, and if I have my own therapy practice, no one can stop me from dying my hair but me."

“Oh, you have a lot of faith in me, Emile,” Remy said with a big grin as he got in the car.

Emile also got in and started it up. “Are you saying that you would misuse that trust for any reason?”

“Of course not!” Remy exclaimed. “I’m just appreciating the fact that you trust me. I didn’t think you would do that.”

Emile blinked, frowning. “You didn’t think I’d trust you?”

“What? I—no, that’s not what I meant. I mean...the amount of faith you have in me surprised me. After all, I’ve done some scummy things to you in the past.”

“But that’s the past, and you’ve always apologized. Sometimes repeatedly,” Emile said. “And you don’t make the same mistake twice. I’m firmly of the opinion that means you care for me, and therefore I can trust you. With little things and big things.”

Remy stared at him. Emile glanced over. “Rem, I’m not a mind-reader. What are you thinking?”

“I just...” Remy looked at Emile. “You...trust me. I can’t remember the last time someone did that. Not like...not like you do.”

“Other people trust you,” Emile said.

“Well yeah. Clara trusts me to not be a jerk, and Theo trusts me to treat you right, and Xavier trusts me to talk to Bea on my own nowadays. But...but you trust me beyond that. Your trust...it...I don’t know. You let yourself be vulnerable around me. You’d let me dye your hair and have it stay that color for months. You...you’re firmly of the opinion that I would never intentionally hurt you. Not that I ever would intentionally hurt you! But...to have someone trust that’s the case with me...well, Toby may have trusted me to not hurt him, but he knew me from when I was a really little kid and had my baby blanket taken away from me so I had to rely on Bones to help me get through the nights I couldn’t sleep. You got to know me when I was trying to break you. And yet...today...you still trust me.”

Emile looked over. “Yeah, I do,” Emile said. “You’ve shown me more than enough times that you’ll always have my back. I don’t believe you would hurt me intentionally or otherwise anymore.”

“Why?” Remy asked.

Emile shrugged. “Because I love you. Isn’t that reason enough?”

[szopenhauer]

Has anybody ever told you that you’re too young to be in love? from what I remember that could happen

Did you learn anything from the last BIG mistake you made? no comment...

Do you have a favorite brand of shoes?   nah

Do you like rollercoasters with big drops? I don’t do rollercoasters 

Do you have any inside jokes with your parents? yes

Did you ever want a pony for a gift as a kid? nope

Do you know who your mom’s favorite singer is?   she doesn’t really have one because she doesn’t listen to music tbh except what I blast 

Have you ever gone to a school that made you wear uniforms?   middle school

Have you ever tried to surf? nooo

Do you want to learn? absolutely not

Did you pick out the furniture in your bedroom? I wish...

Yes or no: Apple pie? yes

Yes or no: Candy apples?   no

Are you a heavy sleeper?   not anymore

Honestly, have you ever re-gifted something? What was it? plenty of stuff

How many months away is your birthday? 1-2

Is the closet in your bedroom a walk-in closet? I’d love to have one like this :3

Do you enjoy cooking? I do not

Which one of your family members do you wish you could see more often? grandma... and aunt Alice

Have you ever (accidentally or not) set off a car alarm? just by walking by 

Do you call it sitting “criss-cross” or “Indian-style”? criss-cross is less offensive

Do you have dimples when you smile?   I do indeed

Do you find graveyards scary? Jack kinda does

Have you ever carved anything into a tree? don’t do that :(

Do you give or get advice more often? give

If you have caffeine late in the day, does it cause you to struggle with your sleep? no idea, I don’t drink coffee

If you have a pet, have they ever embarrassed you in public or in front of friends or family members? What happened? sigh...

Do you leave the house every single day? almost

Would you rather spend the day at the beach, or a day in the snow in the mountains? beach

Do you prefer tops that are plain, or ones with patterns/logos/slogans? plain are lame

Do you enjoy buying gifts for other people, or do you never know what to buy them? it’s complicated

What book do you wish they’d make into a film or TV series? few of my favorites 

Do you prefer zip-up or overheard hoodies? overheard, I hate zippers in clothes

When was the last time you stayed overnight away from home? Was this with friends, family or in a hotel somewhere? What was the occasion? recently, my partner[s] apartment, no occasion

Would you ever be interested in seeing a live magic show? I already did but I don’t remember anything 

What’s your favourite period to learn about in history? What got you interested in this particular era? I liked interesting facts no matter of the period, I hated dates and names

Do you still use or carry cash, or do you pay for everything via card? cash forever

Are there any TV shows that remind you of your grandparents for some reason? Moda na sukces głównie

Do you know how to tie a tie without looking it up? Did you have tie in school (uniform)? maybe, we didn’t

Do you prefer having carpets or hardwood floors? hardwood

When was the last time you took a bath? Is this something you do often or do you prefer taking showers? last night and gonna have one now

What’s your opinion on clothes for dogs? If you have a dog, have you ever bought any clothing items for them? cute but my dog doesn’t wear any

What will you be doing once you finish this survey? What were you doing before you started taking it? I will go to sleep, I’m also playing Choices 

When was the last time you played a game of Monopoly? Did you play until the end or did everyone get fed up and start arguing? this year, we don’t argue about it which is weird because we often argue in general

Do you have anything fun or exciting planned for tomorrow? I hope I will meet with Slytherin system

Don’t you love it when you meet a dog or cat and they instantly love you, especially when the owner says “they normally hate strangers!”? awww sounds like Nat don’t ya think? :P

Would you rather do a wordsearch or a crossword? Word Search but sudoku is cooler

Do you prefer multi coloured or plain white fairy lights? good question

Do you have a favourite TV detective (eg. Sherlock, Poirot)?  Poirot <3  and Don Matteo

Do you hear any animals right now? not even kotszop 

Is your trashcan full? it’s small so it’s almost always full

Are you hungry? am not

Is it rainy where you’re at right now? not tonight

Is your dishwasher full? we don’t own a dishwasher

Do you like to wear gloves? not really

Are you wearing anything pink right now? nothing

What is the creepiest bug you’ve ever saw? maggots are

Do you chew on your lip? might

Are you afraid of needles? I’m not

Do you like Batman? mhm

Can you see a star shape in the room you are in? I can

Do you use hand sanitizer? obvi

Are you in any kind of club or group that is trying to save animals? I’ve been signing petitions 

Where were you two hours after you got up, and what were you doing there? dentist...

Have you ever played fetch with a dog? it didn’t listen XD

Do you use Netflix? if I only had an account...

Do you play games on your computer? when I’m in the mood

Did you have anything bad happen to you today? ...

Do you use the term “lol” if you don’t have anything to say? not when I have nothing to say wtf

Should you be sleeping right now instead of taking this survey? yup :x

Do you currently have any blemishes on your face? yep

Do you use smileys often in text convos? maybe

Would you ever consider being a cannibal? hell no

Did you forget something important in the past week? yeah

Are the floors in your house creaky? there are creaky places and I love it

Do you fear death? sorta

Is your mouth dry? it’s complicated

Do you have any scars from an animal? weirdly no

When was the last time it snowed where you live? Do you like snowy weather or is it just a pain? this week, it’s pain!

9 - When was the last time you got off work early? What was the reason? I don’t have a job

What time did you wake up this morning? Did you get out of bed right away? 8 and had to

Do you ever watch movies or TV shows that require you to read subtitles? why not?

When was the last time you had a haircut? When was the last time you dyed your hair (if you ever have)? Nat is gonna kill me for this bangs, I dyed my hair over 5 years ago

Do you prefer wearing tight-fitting or loose-fitting clothes? loose

What was the last piece of good news you received? Was it expected? pfft

What time of year do you start listening to Christmas music? after Halloween

Are there any names you can think of that just go well together? where should I start...

Do you enjoy museums? whatever

Do you have a username you use for everything? Or does it change each site? it changes but not for EACH

Do you have any disorders or disabilities? what I DON’T have...

Do you ever watch How To videos? in my whole life like a few

Did you have a tree house when you were a kid? If so, did you ever fall from it? I wanted to but never did

Do you enjoy designing things? Anything? I sure do

Do you know what a raincheck at stores is? I know

Can you learn the lyrics of a song by ear, or do you have to search them up? I never remember even the titles...

Do you like the name Amy? Amy Anya :(

Who was the last person you spoke to on the phone? Are you close to that person at all? I called my dad but he couldn’t talk so... he’s my friend

Do you enjoy watching bloopers or outtakes from TV shows?  could

Have you ever dreamed of owning your own shop? What kind of thing would you like to sell? antiques and such

Are you a twin? If not, would you ever want to be a twin? If you are a twin, do you ever wish you weren’t? ;)

Would you ever want to go and visit the moon? it’s bought by Tom Cruise, no thx

Does anything on your body hurt or ache right now? shut up...

When was the last time you struggled to get to sleep? Was there was a specific reason for that? constantly

When was the last time you had a cold? With everything going on in the news, did you worry that it was COVID? my dad had a cold

Do you think people should have to pass a test in order to own pets? it’s not the worst idea

When was the last time you fell asleep/had a nap during the day? Is this something that happens often? it happens very rarely

so how are you today? bad

have you ever been to London? in the past life lmfao

do you enjoy going to the library? heh...

what’s the last movie you watched? we rewatched Asterix and Obelix 

[multifandomhaven]

Tip Part III

Grocery shopping was high on the list of things Sarah hated to do most in the world.

Cooking, she loved - she was good at it, she enjoyed it immensely. Shopping was a different story all together.

It wasn't so much the fact that she didn't like the selection offered at the stores around her. They were great, they really were. No, what she despised was making the choices - decisions between two fruits that looked identical, shape, smell, everything, and yet every time she cracked one open it was like a game of chance. Would this one be fresh and or was it two seconds away from being putrid. How was one to tell?

It was embarrassing, really, but what could she do? As far as she knew they didn't offer shopping classes at any of the colleges nearby.

She sighed and, for reasons unknown to even herself, she did what she'd seen every middle-aged woman do when they approached the cardboard box of melons. She reached into it, hopelessly knocking her fist against a few of them before picking one at random. Placing it in the shopping cart she shook her head and just knew that she'd be throwing it out in a matter of hours.

Once she was finished shopping she threw all the bags into the trunk of her car, carefully placing the melon to the side, hoping that if she took care with it it might bless her with a just-right-ripened inside.

She dropped herself into the driver's seat of her car, turning the key. She winced when she heard the loud sputter of her engine.

"C'mon," she urged the vehicle before trying to start it again. She turned the key, pressing down on the gas pedal slightly, and the car revved to life. She moved to back out of the parking spot when the car began to hiss angrily. Sarah decided against driving in that moment, and instead sat in the parking lot for a bit, not wanting to risk breaking down in the middle of the road if the engine stalled again.

She didn't know much about cars, but she knew that her limited knowledge - putting gas or window cleaner fluid in - wasn't going to help in this situation.

It was stifling inside the car, the heat of a summer day seeming to have reached it's peak, and Sarah sighed and turned the air conditioner on. She let the cool air wash over her, her bare legs breaking out in goosebumps at its contact. Shivering in delight she pressed her forehead against the steering wheel and simply waited. She didn't know how long she sat there, her eyes closed as she relaxed, but when she opened them she was met with a very unwelcome sight.

As if appearing out of thin air, thick plumes of smoke billowed from under the hood of the car, dancing in the scorching, desert wind.

"Damn it," Sarah groaned and turned the ignition off. It was instant, as soon as the air conditioner stopped the heat wrapped her in its clutches once more, threatening to steal the breath right from her lungs.

Leaning over she grasped her purse, pulling her cell phone out. She scrolled through a few of the contacts and selected 'Ignacio'. Her thumb hovered over the call button momentarily, not wanting to bother him - he gave her his number in case of an emergency at work - not to be at her beck and call for minor inconveniences. She weighed her options, going back and forth between her decision, and finally, when a bead of sweat rolled down the side of her face, she relented and pressed call.

After just two rings he answered. "Nacho."

"Hey," she greeted back, a wave of guilt squeezing her chest. "Hey, Nacho, it's Sarah."

She heard a sharp clink in the background, metal on metal. "Sarah? Everything all right?"

"Not really," she admitted. "Nothing horrible. It's just - I know your father owns a shop, and hopefully you can help me... if you can't it's totally fine, I completely understand, it's just - my car is smoking..."

"Smoking?" He repeated quietly. "Where are you?"

She squinted her eyes against the bright sun, reading the swirling red letters of the store's sign. "Smith's."

"Smith's," Nacho reiterated. "The grocery store? You need me to come pick you up?"

"Listen, I'm not putting you out, right?" She worried her bottom lip between her teeth. "I could figure something else out if you're busy, no big deal."

"You're fine," he assured her gently. "I'll be there in twenty, alright?"

Sarah's lips curled into a smile and she looked down at her lap, her fingers picking at the frayed hem of her shorts. "Thanks Nacho, you're a lifesaver."

"Of course," he said. "See you soon."

She didn't know how long she was sitting there on the sidewalk in front of the store, in reality it couldn't have been long, but with the bright sun beating down onto her back it felt like hours. The pavement under her burned, and her legs were tinted red from the fury of summer. She glanced over to her car, still sitting in the parking lot, smoke still streaming from it in thin tendrils, almost taunting her.

Just then a two-toned van pulled beside of her, shielding her from the sun, and she saw Nacho lean over and push the passenger door open.

Sarah peeked around the door, grinning at him when she met his dark eyes. She stood up and climbed inside. "Hi."

"Hey," he said back, his eyebrow raised in amusement. "So, where's your car?"

She huffed a laugh and pointed to her black sedan in the middle of the lot. There was a couple standing near it, pointing at the hood. "It's still smoking, see?"

Nacho made a noise in his throat, his eyes instantly finding her ride, and the he glanced back over to her. "I see. And how long's it been doing that?"

"This is the first time," she told him honestly. "I've never had a problem with it before."

He narrowed his eyes slightly, and then shrugged. "I'll get one of the guys at the shop to come pick it up. We'll look at it for you."

"Nacho, I don't know," Sarah sighed. "I can't really afford another big bill right now. Not that I'm ungrateful or anything-"

He shook his head, pulling his van around and parking right behind her car. "I'll look at it myself. I won't charge you."

Sarah blinked, touched by the gesture. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." He nodded and stepped down out of the van. "I'm sure. Unlock it and we'll move your stuff into the back."

They worked quickly to transfer the bags from her vehicle to his and in almost no time they were back at her apartment. She showed him which parking space to pull into and he glanced around the place, his eyes curiously taking in the surroundings. It wasn't the worst place he'd ever seen, and definitely -

"It's not the nicest," she surmised when he spotted the graffiti on the wall. "But it's home."

His eyes found hers momentarily and then he stepped out of the van and began loading his arms down with every bag she had. Sarah's eyes widened and she tried to take some of them from him, but he just shook his head and told her to lead the way. Thankfully, she lived on the bottom floor and her apartment was just a few doors down from the entryway. She shoved her key into the lock and swung open the door.

Immediately, she heard the scratching of nails on the hardwood floor and then was met with a flying ball of fur, jumping and whining at her feet.

"Just put them on the floor in the kitchen if you don't care," she told Nacho, moving so that he could enter.

She watched as he moved effortlessly, and, for the first time, took really notice of his arms - specifically how big they were. Sure she'd seen them when he was covered in grease from the shop, but there he was, standing in her kitchen, bags hanging around his lower arms, thick with muscle and veins and she suddenly found herself unable to look away from him.

She blinked in surprise, a tightening growing in her lower belly.

"That the infamous Lola?" Nacho asked, leaning against the counter. He gave a small nod toward the dog. "Squeaky little thing, isn't she?"

Sarah furrowed her eyebrows in mock hurt. "Hey, she takes offense to that."

Nacho's lips quirked and he shook his head. "Sorry, but I don't apologize to dogs."

"Well, lucky for you she isn't good with apologies anyway," Sarah whispered, as if the dog could understand what they were saying. Lola scampered back to her dog bed that sat just beside Sarah's spot on the couch, spinning not once, but twice, before settling down onto it.

Sarah chanced a glance back toward Nacho from the corner of her eye, surprised to find him watching her. She motioned toward the sofa and he gave a quick nod, strolling over and sitting down. He took in the pictures and knickknacks that littered the apartment. "You want something to drink?"

"Sure," he said without turning. Sarah saw him look at a picture of her when she was a kid. "Whatever you have will be fine. I'm not picky."

She grabbed two waters and sat down beside him, on the middle cushion, her breath catching when she felt the heat of his thigh against her own bare one. Again, she felt the tightening of her stomach, and wiggled slightly, her cheeks flushed. "Hey, thanks again for coming to get me. You're like my knight in shining armor."

Nacho shook his head, and uncapped the water, taking a quick drink. "I've gotta say, I don't think I've ever been called a knight before."

"I aim to please," Sarah teased, knocking her elbow into him gently. They sat there, stone silent, staring at each other before Sarah cleared her throat and began to speak, "So, do-"

Her sentence stopped, as did, she feared, her heart, when Nacho leaned forward and placed a hand just on the underside of her jaw. Her eyelids fluttered and she inhaled deeply, his palm threatening to scorch her skin. He rubbed his thumb across her cheek gently, simply watching her react to his touch. Sarah swallowed thickly and reach up to grasp his wrist, her fingers weak against him. His thumb stopped moving and Sarah grinned, her heart still thumping in her ears, and then turned her head slightly to press a soft kiss onto his hand.

"Your hair is down," Nacho noted quietly. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the nape of her neck, and Sarah bit back a groan when he tugged lightly. "First time I've ever seen it down."

Sarah smiled, genuinely touched at his attention, and tightened her grip on his broad wrist. "You notice the smallest things."

He ran his thumb over her cheek again, with a little more pressure this time, his eyes leaving hers, only to travel to her lips and then back up again. Sarah's breathing shallowed, anticipation of what was to come building in her chest like a dam. She slowly raised onto her knees, her hand reaching out to feel him. She planted it near the base of his neck, feeling his pulse beating wildly beneath her fingers.

It emboldened her, to know that she had had an effect on him too. She angled her body toward him and leaned forward, pressing her front against him.

His free arm came up and wrapped around her lower back, securing her snugly to him. Sarah arched into his chest, her eyes fluttering shut as she leaned down and captured his mouth with her own.

The softness of his lips surprised her and she sighed blissfully at the pressure he was applying - gentle, slow. Barely there.

Sarah encircled her arms around his neck and threw her leg over his lap, straddling him in one fluid motion. He made a noise, somewhere between a sigh and moan and she felt his hand travel from her lower back to her thigh by his hip, his fingers kneading and rubbing in time with their kiss. Sarah nipped at his bottom lip, rocking her hips slightly as he lifted her a bit, settling back onto the couch more comfortably.

She heard his breathing hitch and he pulled away from her lips, trailing down her neck with open mouthed kisses.

"Nacho," she whispered, gripping his shoulders tightly. She leaned her head to give him better access and rolled her hips against his own again, pride filling her when she heard his breathing stutter in reply.

He grazed his way back up, alternating between sweet pecks and enthusiastic, searing nips. "This okay?"

"Mmm," she rubbed her fingers over his arms and back up to his neck. "More than okay."

He nodded and leaned up again, slanting their lips together once again. They tangled together helplessly, hands groping and breaths mingling, only breaking apart when Lola jumped onto the couch, licking at the skin of Nacho's hand on Sarah's thigh.

He shooed the dog down, and Sara marveled back down at the man under her. Her breath still left her in heavy puffs. "Wow."

"Yeah," Nacho nodded at her, his eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide. His hands were still on her, rubbing lightly up her sides under the flimsy fabric of her shirt.

"So." Sarah bit her swollen lip to cover her smile, quirking her eyebrow at him. Her hands were on his chest, fingering a button on his shirt. "Wanna stay for dinner?"