#i’ll check back in in four years time when we hopefully have a different government

[heavenbarnes]

Cosmos how is NZ because me and some American girlies want out of the states

ummm so we’re under a right wing government that is cutting a lot of jobs but also limiting mental health support, our cost of living is virtually impossible for the average human, crime is increasing because of the above mentioned, we have a crazy evangelical asshole who keeps being given a platform, and there is an astronomical rise in “sovereign citizens” who don’t believe the law applies to them 🤪

🥰 it is getting harder and harder to survive 🥰

[witchlyboo]

Definitely, maybe.

Part five: The one who belongs to someone else.

Introduction. Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four.

Paring: Latina!reader x Logan Lerman x Tom Holland x Ben Hardy x Timothee Chalamet x Pedro Pascal x Michael B. Jordan

Warnings: Swearing, angst, misspellings, some Spanish, me learning how to write properly, and NY stuff that I've learned from movies that we all agree to pretend are real.

Word count: 6.4 k

a/n: You been asking for smut, I know, I know, I just wanted to introduce you to all the boys first, and we're getting there, just one more ahead. Also, I'm working on a masterlist because we are getting too many parts already.

All body types and skin tones friendly. You can also enjoy it as a no Hispanic reader. Constructive feedback and misspellings correction is always welcome.

Red and blue lights flash the driving mirror.

—No, no, no, por favor que no sea a mi—You beg to the sky looking at the patrol that is asking you to park, or someone else, there's a lot of cars in this part of the city, there's a big chance is the panic who's controlling your senses.—Dios, mi abuela fue a la iglesia cada domingo de su vida y nunca te pidió nada, please let me have some of her divina recompensa.—But that's not how it works, you end up parking with just a few seconds to think what to say. There's a perfect explication of why you are driving a car that is not yours in the middle of the night and smelling like a minibar.

Then this ridiculous thought comes to your mind, you look expensive, you've never seen the daughter of a senator but you must be close to it, it would make you less of a feminist if you just use your attributes? Ugh, you feel sick just to think about it but don't have enough money to pay a fine, and the constant paranoia of being chased all the time as an immigrant will only get stronger.

You pull down your dress a little so your neckline can do its job but you regret it immediately, and you're pretty sure you look more like an expensive prostitute who stole the car of his lover than some influential men's daughter.

—License and registration.—You hear him say when he approaches your window. You don't like this but you have to play the dumb tourist, the pretty foreign girl that is too stupid to be dangerous, with the look you have tonight it shouldn't be hard. But damn you hate cops, any uniformed man that works for the government is your eternal enemy, and you don't know how long you could keep the nice dumb Latina game before spit on his face.

—There's something wrong, officer? ...You?!—Your sexy and fake high voice is ruined when you see the face of the man who stopped you. This night couldn't get worse.

—Wait, what happened with the party?—Evan interrupts you while you finish some notes for work, little remainders for later when you don't have an eleven years old kid running around you, he's not usually this energic and you have to blame yourself for that, you're describing a life of excess and eccentric fun, something you let behind so many years ago that your own son doesn't know even a bit of it.

—Ugh, a nightmare doesn't worth telling.—You remember vaguely most of it but what keeps fresh in your mind is bad enough to don't want to bring it back.

—But if Timothée is my dad I have to know the important things, including the bad stuff.—Sounds perfectly reasonable and that's what makes you groan at him. Sometimes you feel blessed that your kid is better than you in any possible way, and sometimes you want to kill his brain with video games and reality shows like the rest of the parents.

—Ok, cool, but I'll keep all the +18 content for myself, so this part of the story might be blurry for you.—It kinda is for you anyway.

You should’ve known this night was cursed, you had a feeling because a) your earring fell off at the same time Timothée texted you to give you the party address and say he can't pick you up. And b) he won’t pick you up. Your mother would say that’s reason enough to not go, a real gentleman wouldn’t make you go to an unknown place in the middle of the night on your own in a city like this. But you decide to ignore it because you are a modern woman and because it’s worth it. It better be.

The outfit must be something special. You always take your time to choose what to wear, even if just another regular day, and since this isn't the case you thought about it for hours, that made your mind busy enough to not thinking about Tom and the whole love confession. He texted you saying he'll come for you to go to class together on Monday, which is completely impractical because he's way closer than you but is progress and you're going to take it.

You wanted to ask for Sheep's opinion but you thought she might not care, has been a few days since she started acting strange like she's bothered just to see you breathe. You want to blame his boyfriend to take all her time and attention from you but is probably just her new job, she got a small role in a Netflix show, and even when you're so happy for her, that's the event that has changed her into someone completely different. But you give her time, stress can do bad things to people.

The winner is the exact copy you made of the black and white striped dress Cameron Diaz wore in "The Mask" beautiful, classy, and sexy enough without being too scandalous, not that you have any problem with that, but this isn't the occasion, you don't want to feel like you're being too much or too little, just enough, it's supposed to be easy, right? you were born for this. Just adding some big shiny earrings you got on a thrift shop that look like real diamonds and you're ready, not that you own any to compare. Red lipstick, dark eyes, and a messy bun to get that disinterested pitch every look needs.

Getting there wasn't a problem, you were in the rich part of the city, everyone know who, where and what just to brag about it. The excitement is growing with every second, you check your makeup like thirty times in the elevator and send texts to your mom just to let her know where you are, and because you have to share that moment with someone and you are limited of friends these days.

Timothée opens the door with red eyes, drunk, high, or somewhere in between, you know then you were right about the bad feeling. He jumps on you to kiss you and no matter how much you try to explain the delicacy of your lipstick, he does it anyway, leaving a taste of alcohol and shrimps in your mouth. Taking you by the waist he walks you to a group of people you don't know while you're trying harder to fix the red color of your mouth without a mirror.

—Here is the companion I bought, look at her, that's how five grand per hour look like.—They laughed but you were too disoriented to process all the things he said, it was supposed to be a joke? if it is, why isn't he correcting? Instead, his hand goes straight to your ass and presses it to get you closer to him.

—I'm actually an intern in the costume designer department of the new version of "Sense and Sensibility".—You wanted to mention your recent promotion to hairstylist and makeup artist but that might be too pretentious. Anyway, they don't seem to care what you are or not, in fact, they don't even see you, all eyes are on Timothée

—Oh, well, is easy to forget when you're paying them—All laughs again. Who is this person? Who are all these people, actually? You recognize some influencers, a few cast members but there's no sign of the director, other main actors, not even his co-star. You feel like an extra in a movie where someone will be killed in a luxury party, hopefully not you. You take his hand from your body and clear your throat.—I'm just joking my love, she looks stunning, isn't she? I’ll get you a drink.

He leaves and the group of people surrounding you suddenly dissipated like boiling water, you were on your own again and despite some judgmental gazes is like you’re not there, you’re sure you could just take your dress off and throw it to someone’s face and unless Tim says something about it, no one would care. You’re there as his companion, an ornament, and that’s not enough to earn their attention because it’s too obvious you’re the one in turn.

You walk to the only window no one is smoking and check your phone, you know, the thing you do when you pretend you have important issues to attend, but no, you end reading some old messages, pictures, texting your mom of how much fun you’re having at the party, and somehow you check your filed Facebook messages to find Logan’s name. You cover the screen so fast you hurt your nail, his name is enough to make you tremble like a Chihuahua, you haven’t talked to him since that night, you know from his sister he lives in the house he bought for you two and he’s having the happiest life without you. You want to believe that because that means you took the right decision but deep inside… no, you can’t be that person, you want him to be happier than ever.

You find the guts to open the message, and you read as slowly as is humanly possible. “My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health…” Dios, just Logan could start a message like that, your smile is almost too big to fit in your face so you bit your nail to cover it a little. “I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you’ll be happy to know…”

—That’s a fucking long-ass message.—Tim appears behind you and takes your phone from your hand, spilling some of his drink on your dress in the process. Apparently, he's been there long enough to read part of the message.

—Give it back.—You command in the most severe voice you have, your magical moment got ruined and you remember the hole of hell you are.

—"My angel, I hope this finds you in perfect health. I recently found one of the human body drawings you made for me to study, you must know I still use them now and then"—Timothée starts reading the message, and even when no one is close enough to hear it and you don’t really care about this people’s opinion, that’s not for anyone to read, that’s one of the few parts of your life you treasure the most and you’re not ready to get over it.—You little slut, are you cheating on me with a med student?

—Give it to me.—You repeat trying to take the phone from his hand but he’s faster and walks away putting it out of your reach.

—"I meticulously preserve them, I certainly know any piece of art made by you will be priceless in the near future"—You don’t want to hear it coming from his drunk mocking voice, so you try to ignore what he’s saying and put more effort on chasing the phone.—Should I had kept the jeans where you left the wet spot on? I didn’t know you were an artist, my love.

—Timothée, por el amor de Dios.—Now you're trying to climb him, it wouldn't be that hard to take him down, he's skinny and you're fierce. That's what you thought but he's not moving even with you are on top of his shoulder and his opposite long arm keeps the phone away from you.

—Who is this guy and why is he talking to my girl like this?—You see the olive eyes getting darker and the tone of his voice went deeper than you thought he could do. You desist from taking the phone, you know the bullies love the attention, maybe that's exactly what he wants and give it to him just makes it worse.

—I'm not your girl.—You claim fixing up your dress having enough of games, and you have no reason to keep worrying about losing your job, the filming is done, and apparently your relationship with him too. You don't care about any of that anymore, just want to read Logan's text.

Even behind all the alcohol and the eyes injected in blood thanks for who knows what kind of drug, you can see the disappointment and anger, but it's not a broken heart, Is the hissy fit of a child that loses his balloon and now everyone will pay for it, especially you.

—Are you sure about that?—You can see him swallow hard, almost looking vulnerable, but his voice is defiant and threatening to prove you wrong. He just has to stretch out his arm to reach the open window with your phone in hand, his intentions are clear and the only thing you can do is raise your hands as a reflex.—You were mine the moment you put a foot on my trailer, and I don't fucking share my stuff.—Before you can say a word he drops the phone from the fourth floor.

You know is senseless but you find yourself running out of the party and going to search the device, using it also as an excuse to get away from that place. This is the first time someone makes you feel meaningless, you know the famous' world is cold and lacking in empathy but this is ridiculous, they're a bunch of parasites fed by attention and power. By Timothée.

The screen is crashed and the rest of it is probably beyond repair, not that you're surprised, its life is longer than you've been in the country and you admit you should have replaced it much earlier but you're not the kind to throw away things that still work. However, is not the phone you are worried about, not as much as what it contains.

—That was obsolete anyway, I'll get you a better one.—You didn't know he was following you, his voice interrupts your self-wailing. He sounds calmer and a little embarrassed, but not enough to say sorry, you don't think he's capable of saying it.

You shake your head and start to walk away without a word, you don't want anything from him, not materially, at least.

—Don't make a scandal out of it, it's just a phone!—He yells erasing any trace of regret in his voice. He doesn't see the reaction he expected and that's when he runs after you and with a hand on your upper arm pulls you back, you gasped for the sudden bluntness.—That annoying habit you have of leaving when I'm talking to you.

You push him away with all the strength you have, which resulted in him almost falling on the ground.

—I don't care about the stupid phone!—You finally break, but sadly is not as satisfactory as you thought it would be.—You are mean, vain, arrogant and the worst part is that you enjoy being this despicable human because you have absolutely no consequences to it. Everyone around you just accepts it and I feel so sorry for you because the only possible way for you to fill the void inside is to be surrounded by that crowd of mules licking your steps—To your surprise, he has nothing to say, he's just standing there with no facial expression, whatever he feels is easily covered by his years of experience acting, even drunk.—I can't give you that and it's obvious they don't want me either. What am I even doing here?—You ask yourself thinking where would be the best way of getting a cab, is a rich zone, must be easy.

—Everything is better when you're around—His voice is thin and fragile, you have to process what he said three times in your head to understand his words. You're not willing to look at him yet.—You're not like the others.

—Pure bullshit. You love to repeat that misogynist discourse of girls being in a certain way because is easier than be responsible for the people you choose to be—You were hugging yourself the whole time, is a cold night, but not enough to be bothersome, you enjoy Fall weather—You got me for a moment, I give you that, you fooled me but I'm too tired of guessing what version of you is real—When you return your gaze at him, he doesn't try to hide the guilt anymore, but there's still haughtiness in there.—Now, if you don't mind Mr. Chalamet, I need to get a cab.

—No, you came with me, you leave with me.—There's no trace of alcohol in his voice anymore, a good scolding is enough to put you sober, you know that thanks to your mom. Oh god, you're becoming her.

—You didn't bring me here, gigantic head—You look at him and put your hand in front of him with the palm up. He stares at it for several seconds before put his own on it—Not that!—You shake it and start looking inside his jeans pockets until you feel the metal of his key car.—You can't drive and I have to get home. You'll find it in the studio tomorrow.

That's how you ended with a car way more luxurious than you expected, driving so slowly and carefully that the police stopped you. What a night, but at this point, you couldn't care less about anything that is not that message, is been months and you can't get over it, over him. Not even Ben moans, Tom's comforting arms, or fight with a movie star at 3:00 am. is enough to get him out of your mind.

—So is true, you don't wear anything that hasn't appeared in a movie, huh?—Michael B. Jordan is leaning on the car window with a mocking smile and a sparkle of satisfaction that you would love to punch but his uniform keeps you in line, where you come from police is not equal to justice, most of the times is oppression.

—You know where it's from?—That was kind of comforting, no one at the party noticed. Not that you care.

—Is The Mask, not some Adam Hitchcock's blurb.—He smiles and even when you really don't like him, it's nice to be with a familiar face, you are really tired of running away, scaping for problems that are a result of your null capacity to deal with emotions. Ugh, what a word.

—Is Alfred Hitchcock, actually.—You didn't want to sound priggish, but you correct him with no time to stop yourself, an old habit.

—You got me, smarty, you know more than movies than me. Where did you get this car?—You feel really nervous even when you got this legally, you have your documents and license on time and he's being nice enough to not want to run away in a car that you technically borrowed for yourself.

—It's not mine.—No shit, Sherlock.

—No shit, Sherlock, I was asking where did you steal it.—You wanted to laugh but there's something with the uniform that just doesn't allow you to be yourself.—Are you drunk?

—No, no, fuck, no, it's just, I don't feel comfortable with cops—He raises his eyebrows but that is his only reaction.—Listen, is my boss' car, I'm doing the favor to take it to the studio, and I'm really nervous because is fucking expensive, he's an asshole, I haven't drive un almost a year because you people only use cars if you're rich or your work and lives depend on it. I'm starving.—The last part came out of nowhere, you haven't eaten anything in almost 13 hours, maybe that's the actual reason why you are that moody.

He doesn't answer right away, takes his time to look at you, what makes you blush, he's really close, closer than he's ever been. Does he smell like green apples? Not the actual apples, the artificial smell they had given to them.

—Get out of the car.—Oh no, is he arresting you? Is he finally taking revenge for every time you make fun of his Hawaiian-type shirts? You know you have too much karma accumulated and a cop making you pay for it when you don’t believe in their sense of justice is kinda poetic, and evil.

You don’t want to discuss with someone with a taser, gun, pepper spray, or who knows what else. So you take your bag, the key car, and get off defeated.

—My turn is almost over, I’ll take you to eat something, c’mon.—He walks back to his patrol and you stay still for a few seconds still processing his words, you must look totally devastated for him to offer that. How you see it you have two options, go with him and spend an awkward hour with a person you don’t like or risk getting a fine, Tim can pay it, it’s not a big deal but you don’t want to owe him even the minimal thing.

You get in the car holding on to your bag to feel calmer, this is the first time you’re fully alone with him since you found him half-naked in your kitchen. Those defined abs may never leave your brain.

—Are you cold?—He interrupts your thoughts with his question, you didn’t notice you were shaking. He looks for something under his seat and gives you an NYPD hoodie, you hold it doubting your next move, is not like you don’t appreciate the gesture but it’d be easier to take if it doesn’t get that words printed—Is clean.—He says chuckling when he sees the way you’re looking at it.

—Is not that, just, you know, fuck the police, defund the NYPD, demilitarize the pigs and that stuff.—You say putting on the hoodie anyway, is a cold night and you won't help the institution wearing their propaganda.

—Yeah, I get it, but you can't change the system just from within.—You decide is not the right moment to have a political conversation so you shrug your shoulders and discreetly smell the hoodie, a mix of cologne, green apples, and cheap soap, you know is cheap because you buy the exact same, do its job.

—I'm in the mood for pizza.—You say casually, making a deal to yourself to try to be his friend, he is a small part of your life anyway.—Domino's is open at this time of the night?

—Tell me you're not consuming that shit, dear Lord, you been here for how long, two years? I can't believe your idea of a good pizza is Domino's. Stella hasn't taught you anything?—You're surprised by the level of condescension with a pizza and you mirror his smile, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Your school program includes people from all around the world so you don't have that much experience with actual new yorkers. Logan is rich, so he doesn't really count.

—What's wrong with Domino's? I don't buy much street food, is cheaper to buy things on the food market. Besides, all pizza is good.—The mention of Sheep makes you a little tense, so you don't say anything about it, is not a conversation to have with him.

—Don't blaspheme in the patrol, I just washed it—You laugh, finally, after a terrible weekend. You can see why she likes him, there is something about his voice, smile, and his eyes that feel... calm, like watching Friends after a marathon of Lord of the Rings.—There are rules to survive this city, and I'm surprised you have made it this far without a proper guide.

—Chill out Mr. Miyagi, I'm not from the jungle, and I've learned a lot by myself.—He gives you a lopsided grin as a request, and you put your fingers up ready to enlist your acquired knowledge.—Walk fast, like you're about to be stabbed, something that actually happened to me, with an umbrella—He nods and laughs being related to it.—Number two, no small talk, no one cares, even if they ask. Number three, if you look a stranger in the eye, especially a homeless person, you have essentially invited them to approach you.

—Number four, we never eat from Domino's, Papa John's, Pizza hut, or any other chain restaurant, only trucks and local places are allowed.—You roll your eyes but you get the point, is just, again, you're not much into street food, it doesn't taste like home and the only way to eat food like that is preparing it yourself.

—Fine, fuck capitalism, let's support local places—You make an obvious fake enthusiastic tone but he nods proudly.—Number five, you don't need a car to live here, not even know how to drive. I would have successfully avoided this police brutality if I had followed that rule.

—For someone who is about to eat for free, you whine too much.—He parks the car and gives you a sign to go with him. You see him go to a pizza truck and order, you realize at the moment how ridiculous you look, so before chasing him you let your hair down, take your huge earrings off, and roll up the skirt of your dress until your mid-thighs letting the hoodie cover the rest, and clean the red lipstick with a Kleenex from your bag. Now you look more like a college person and not a rich girl who just got seized.

—Here you go.—He says giving you a slice as big as your head, looks oily and spreading cheese everywhere. Perfect.

—Is it vegan?—You ask receiving the food with an obnoxious face. His kind grind turned into a dread expression and you give him your second laugh of the day.—I'm kidding.

You are about to give it a bite when you see passing next to you a huge rat with the exact same slice as yours in its mouth, running into the dark of the night happy to have obtained the food for its family. They use to scare you when you just moved out but now they're like any other pigeon in the sky.

—Rule... whatever, a rat with a slice of pizza is a symbol for good luck, congratulations.—He pets your head awkwardly, not sure if you're ok with the physical contact, which, surprisingly, you are.

—I see rats with bagels all the time.—Pizza and bagels, that's the main culinary wonders of the city, you like it, not much to object but is hard not to compare it with your home's food.

—Is easy to confuse a rough diamond with a simple rock.—You both eat in silence, enjoying the mixed sounds of the city and all the different smells, the whole situation feels like one of those lofi music videos. You remember thinking about moments like this before getting the scholarship, what would it be like to feel normal in the city of your dreams.

—How do you know that much about movies?—He asks after a few minutes when you take a break to drink something, that pizza is not easy to take.

—When I was a kid a spent much time on my own, so my dad bought me a used DVD reproducer, and at the corner of my neighborhood was this movie store where you could buy 5 pirate movies for one dollar. They were blurred, with a terrible sound, and most of the time with the wrong movie inside but they helped me to not feel lonely. Eventually, the store closed but I've watched everything in it by then—He gives you a warm smile, you never told that story to anyone, not because is too intimate to share, but because no one asked, it doesn't sound like a question with a complex answer.—Anyway, I watched Marie Antoinette when I was like eight, and I decided at that moment that however is done I wanted to be part of that magic.

—You hear all kind of people chasing dreams in this city but is hard to find someone who actually deserves it.—You blush and you cover it with your hair but the smile on your voice is impossible to hide.

—Is that a compliment? You must really want me to like you to date Sheep.—You laugh but you can see his face tense, so you can guess your friend has been busy breaking everyone’s hearts.

—She hasn’t returned my calls in three days so I don’t think there’s much you can do—You nod, all this time you thought he was the reason she is ignoring you but apparently you are both in the same boat.—But yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking, what I should have said is, Marie Antoinette at eight? I can see where all the damage started.

You gasp and throw your napkin at his head, he easily catches it without even looking at it and laughs; that was unexpectedly attractive.

—Why a cop?—You ask, not sure where that question came from, maybe you authentically want to know more about him, he just bought you food, and honestly, that's the easiest way to win your trust.

—I wanted to be an actor when I was a child. This is the city of opportunities so you may think that if you want to chase the big wonder, this is the perfect place to do it. But I grow up surrounded by these people giving their entire lives to get something just given to one in a million so I decided is not worth it. For many years I wondered what I wanted to do with my life and the answer was really clear, my dad was a cop, a good one, or that’s what people say. I don’t remember much because he died when I was seven—Conversations about death are not your strength, everything can turn out uncomfortable if you choose the wrong words.—It might not be that glamorous but if my father died for it, it surely worth it.

—For the good ones.—You raise your almost empty can of Coke and he does the same with a grin that warms the cold weather of the night.

—For the good ones.

The next two hours passed like minutes talking about anything and everything. It just felt right to talk freely with him, you didn’t feel judged for your awkward family moments or your random thoughts, not even once because he told you his too. At some point of the night he borrowed you his gym sweatpants, any of you could just suggest going home but that was off the table, end that peace just for weather reasons would have been a tragedy.

—I read Timothée Chalamet is a dick. Is that true?—The mention of his name remains you of your life and everything that comes with it, including the middle semester project that you must dedicate your entire day, one that is about to start.—What, you can’t talk about it?

—He is a complete dick with no sense of privacy or human decency—And when he interrupts a deep kiss to look at your eyes, smile, and caress your chin, you feel like a character of his Victorian movies. But he didn’t ask that.—But the next week he’ll be no longer my problem.

—That’s why we have rule twenty-three, don’t ask for a picture of a celebrity unless they are local—You have heard about it before but you haven’t got the opportunity to decide if you like that rule because the only celebrities you have seen are from work and that club’s party opening.—That means you’ll be free to go to the Stephen Kings’ movie projection there will be for Halloween.

You don’t know if that was a proposition, a suggestion, or just a simple recommendation, and whatever it is, you noticed he was nervous to ask. Is it wrong? It feels wrong like you were betraying your friend accepting to hang out with his boyfriend without her consent. But he didn’t ask you to go with him so is safe to answer.

—Yeah, I guess—You get a moment, four seconds top, where you shared innocent, curious, and tenting gazes like three graders in the playground. And that’s the further you will allow yourself to go.—We better leave, if the sunlight touch me I’ll turn into dust.

You get off the car hood and go to the side door, but this time he opens it for you. You give him a “seriously?” Look, receiving a little push in your arm as a response.

↬☀︎︎

A distant voice asks you to wake up, softly whispers that turn into caresses on your cheek, your eyes feel so heavy, even when you are well aware of your environment your eyelids keep closed.

—Good morning, Princess—This is the first time Tom calls you that way, the change from silly nicknames to Princess is enough to get you out of hibernation. He is squatting beside your bed, his smile is the promise of a better day, and chasing that idea you give him one small back.—Your mom has been texting me desperately all day, she said you're not answering her calls and is worried.

—Fuck, my phone broke last night, can I call her from yours?—That’s an oversimplification but in the search for a better story, that's what you decide to believe and tell. Tom nods and gives it to you, he looks happy, beyond that, this is the first time you see that subtle blush on his cheeks and the eyes sparkling. You sit on the bed next to his body looking for your mom's number, slowly he moves between your legs, you have shorts and an oversized Back To The Future t-shirt, you got took the time to prepare yourself to bed last night and keep Michael’s clothes inside your closet to wash them, like The Tell-Tale Heart, a little innocent secret who feels dirty somehow

The conversations with your mom are always long, nostalgic and the tears are hard to hold for both parts; after a long life sharing almost every day with her, her absence never feels smaller. But this time is different, Tom is exploring the bare skin under your knee with his warm hands, asking for permission with curious eyes, and when you don’t object to the touch the British boy keeps his exploring mission cautiously, giving special attention to see your eyes in case something change. Is time to hang up when he gives a long and loving kiss to your knee, the less erotic kiss you could think of but so intimate to bristle your skin.

—Not nice to touch someone's daughter when is talking to her mom.—The protest of your voice loses strength at every word, he heard that and just straight his back to reach your face, the gap is almost extinct.

—We're okay, she likes me.—He assures holding your hips and pulling you a bit to him. Tom looks very comfortable with the new closeness authorization, you like it but are not very sure about it yet, most of you still think of him as your best friend.

—Did she tell you that? Are you talking with my mom behind my back?—You laugh when he does, almost like nothing changed.

—She adores me, I swear, I'm invited to Christmas, you know?—You're not surprised, she invites everyone, Logan was too but the first time he got family plans and didn't make it to the second.

—You should go, maybe we can do...—His lips touch yours in a peak at the middle phrase and makes you forget what you were about to say.—Man, the audacity to interrupt...—Then he kisses you again, deeply, using his tongue to taste your inner lip and his hands holding your shirt in fists. That's a twist of events.

—Is that ok?—You hear a weak whisper coming out of his voice but you got so mesmerized on his lips that decided to ignore it and kiss him back instead. He responds to your touch and starts to lean over you to make you lay on the bed.

Jesucristo bendito, is this happening? like, actually happening? you must look like trash, you barely took all the makeup from the night before and didn't take a shower, you start to get so worried about smells, feelings, and what that'll mean to your already too much-spoiled friendship.

However, the time of doubts is done when Sheep starts yelling in the living room, you both reacted running to the sound and looking for your blonde friend. Michael is there but doesn't look like the same as a few hours ago, is annoyed and tired for the lack of sleep, a look that doesn't match him at all.—What did you do?—You ask him fast assuming she's mad for something he did.

—Just in time, the star of the movie, I was wondering how much it will take you to be the protagonist of this.—That is Sheep's voice talking about you and what must be your heart breaking from her words.

—Excuse me?—You wish your tone would be less savage but you can't help respond the same way she did.

—Logan wasn't enough, then you got the drummer, fucking Timothée Chalamet, Tom and now my boyfriend. I'm so glad I didn't leave you alone with my dad or I'd be calling you mom now.—You have no words to that, Michael doesn't even dare to look at you, he must have told her something she misunderstood, but Sheep, or well, Stella is saying things she actually thinks and keep to herself. Tom walks in front of you whispering things to her to calm her down but she is not looking at him, you didn't tell her anything about Tom either so he's taking responsibility this time.—Go ahead and fuck the whole city, Michael if that please you but you're crossing the line with Tom and you know that, you're going to ruin him as you ruin every man that enters in your life.—She has a very you moment having the last word of the dispute and getting out of the apartment with Michael going after her but not putting much effort in it.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Taglist:

@eridanuswave @cjand10 @deluxeplanteater @rorodendra @navs-bhat @coxxxxxpi @leviosatothestars

Thanks for all the love and support, if you have opinions, suggestions, or want to be part of the tag list (Or don’t want to be part anymore) let me know, I appreciate every message.

[knullanon]

invincible bullshit that i came up with 10 days ago i just forgot about it

ngaoevnbiaebiw its here @anxiousnerdwritings i hope you like it i got inspired by you to write this

words: 2196

warnings: past arguing, MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ENTIRE SEASON 1, shooting, arguing, past manipulation

“Reports of who killed the Guardians of the globe are starting to surface, with our agents finding out about the supposed killer: we know they spared Omni-Man, killed the rest of the members, and then fled. We also know they are not from earth. Lots of people have speculated that Omni-Man is the one behind these killings, however, the government has ruled out that being a possibility, since there was no evidence of Omni-Man doing these actions. More at 7 tonight on-”

The program stopped playing as you saw a contact appear on the top of the screen, and reading it, you immediately perked up.

Swiping on the green button, you happily said, “Hey, Dad! What’cha need?”

You heard a chuckle from the other end, before he said, “Hey kiddo, how you holding up?”

“Nothing much going on here, you good over there?”

“Yup, mostly everything is fine. You know my work, they always have something for me to do.”

“Hopefully that clears up soon.”

“Yeah, hey, listen, where are you right now?”

Ugh, not this again. Your mood slightly dropped as you remembered a few years ago, when you first met Cecil. He wasn’t as good as he is now, and he would always be asking where you would be. Even in school. However, that was all in the past, since you were older, he now knew that you were responsible enough to do things on your own. At least, that’s what he wanted you to believe.

“Uh, well, I was just gonna go hang out with some friends and then go back home. Why?”

“Ok, listen to me very carefully: one of my guys is gonna pick you up near Bridgetown, ok? You’re gonna get a bracelet from them and then I’ll explain the rest here.”

What the fuck? “Oh, um, ok, when will they be there?”

“About 5 minutes. Be there soon, love you, bye.”

He hung up the phone quickly, which was extremely rare, even for him, since he would never show his love to you out publicly and you would feel weird if he even did. However, on the phone or in private he was a completely different person, having a great personality and he was an even better dad.

Well, he did say to hurry up, and 5 minutes. You checked the time and when you saw it was near 1. You strided your way towards the street he told you to meet on, and cheerfully thought of the ways to hang out with your friends after whatever he wanted to do. Maybe you could go to the mall? Maybe the food court? You’ve been meaning to try those damn milkshakes at that new bar everyone is talking about, but it was always so crowded. You never liked crowded places in the first place.

Suddenly, your phone rang again. This time, when you checked, it was your dad again. Strange. It was weird for him to call you twice in a row. He usually got to the point within a few sentences.

Picking up the phone, you said, “Hey dad-”

“________, listen to me. Get to someplace safe now. Get out of the road. Get out of the public. I don't care if you have to go inside someone else’s house, just get out of sight.”

Stopping in the middle of the road you let out some surprised stutters. “Wh- Dad, what are you talking about?”

“_______, please, just listen to me when I say this, you are in danger and you need to get out of there.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

You were shuffling around trying to find a good place to “hide” while your dad went into complete panic mode in his voice. “_______, find a place to hide, and whatever you do, get out of open space.”

You heard him speak to someone off the phone, before he cursed out loud. “I have to call you back, but someone will be there, wherever you are, ok? I… I love you.”

Before you could answer him, he hung up the phone. Anxiety was the only thing you could feel, as you looked around the desolate neighborhood. There was a reason why you chose this area over others: it was quiet and small. Not only that, but the only people who walked this way were people who were not fond of bigger crowds. In fact, you haven’t seen anyone go this way for a long time. You always wondered why, since it was the perfect way to get robbed. Of course, that would never happen, especially with all those lessons from your dad about self defense.

The street you were on had walls surrounding the sidewalk to prevent people from going into people's backyards, probably. They were too high up to climb, and they were concrete, so it wouldn’t be easy to just hop over and call it a day.

However, you were almost at the end of the street, and you knew there was a little patch of bushes and leaves that would provide the perfect cover. They were almost as tall as your dad, which always made you wonder who was watering them to be that big.

Pacing quickly towards the end of the street, and seeing no one in sight made you let out a sigh of relief. Either dad was overeating or something bad was happening, and you don’t know which would be worse. When Cec- dad overrated, it always got messy, no matter what it was about.

“Why were you out so long? I was about to send a team after you-”

“Cecil, it’s fine, I just had to talk to my-”

“Don’t call me Cecil, and don’t try to make excuses, tell me who you were with right now or I swear to god-”

You forgot the memory almost as soon as it came up, instead choosing to focus on getting to the brush where you could hide until C- Dad came to pick you up. Wherever he was. Actually, did he give you a time that he would be there?

You got a weird feeling that made you sprint towards the bushes and dive in, like there was someone behind you. You ignored it and forced your way on all fours, ignoring the cuts and scratches you were getting on your arms and legs.

There was almost a whooshing sound above you, and you wondered if your dad sent a fucking jet to get you. But that thought left your mind when you heard it right next to you, along with the sound of someone making a harsh landing onto the street. You were able to hear the little bits and pieces of concrete fly off the ground to hit the ground again.

You stayed completely still, leaning on your arms while your body was facing the street. You heard something shuffle, like moving fabric around, before a familiar voice hit your ears.

“Who’s there?” they- he said, and you were about to cry out of relief when you heard it. “Omni-Man?”

~~~~~

“Cecil, why do you think Nolan would go after ________?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Cecil didn’t look at Debbie, instead focusing on the map in front of him, wondering where Mark could’ve been.

“What reason would he have to go after them? I just- he wouldn’t just attack a child, would he?”

Cecil felt his head start to hurt. Goddamnit, why did Nolan want to go after you? You had nothing to do with anything, besides being Cecil’s daughter. … is that why he was after you? Just because you were related to Cecil?

No, Nolan wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t his biological daughter, Nolan knew Cecil took you from somewhere.

He probably thought you were just someone that he got for fun, which was the furthest from the truth. Cecil didn’t-

“Sir, we’ve found Mark Grayson, along with your daughter, not at the same locations, but-”

“Where is she?” Cecil didn’t try to hide his worry in his voice. It didn’t exactly help when the agent said, in a monotone voice, “She's with Omni-Man, sir.”

~~~~~

“________? What are you doing here?”

Peeking out from the bush, you saw Omni-Man walk up towards you and hold out his hand. You graciously took it, and helped yourself up. Even when you were standing at your full height, Omni-Man was way taller than you. Like, way taller. He could beat your dad within an inch of his life even with all of that combat stuff he learned over the years.

Of course he could, he’s Omni-Man dumbass. Ignoring the thought, you answered, “I’m, uh, busy.”

You saw him give a small smile. “You’re busy hiding in the bushes?”

“Yes.” you cursed internally for answering that so quickly like an idiot. You weren’t expecting him to let out a laugh. He continued while you stood there, confused as all hell.

Finally, he said, “You know, you’re a terrible liar.” You laughed along with him for a moment, before saying, “Yeah, I know.”

His face suddenly darkened, before he said, “So, why are you out here?”

The laughter in the air was gone now, only replaced by crushing silence as he waited for your answer. You felt yourself shrink under his scrutinizing gaze. He looked like he was judging you for just standing there. Well, he could’ve also been judging you because you were in a bush just 10 seconds earlier. After a few more seconds, you broke.

“C- Dad said to hide somewhere.”

“Aren’t you too old to be playing those games?”

“Yeah, I am, but apparently someone was gonna come and get me. He just said to get out of open space.”

You heard him mutter something under his breath, before he scratched the back of his head.

“Well, I can see why he would want that.”

“Really? Why?”

“A mob boss named Machine Head.” When you gave him a confused look, he elaborated, “Machine head was a guy who took down the new Guardians of the Globe along with… Mark. They thought they got him, but unfortunately they weren’t able to kill him.”

“How does that have anything with me?”

“... You’re Cecil’s daughter. Cecil was the one who found out about Machine Head. And took him down. Machine Head wants revenge against Cecil for ruining his plans, so he’s probably going to take it out on you.” When you still gave a surprised stare, he asked, “Do you really not have this happen often?”

“No, Dad keeps me inside alot…” your voice trailed off when you heard your phone ring, and picking it up, you saw it was your dad.

“Hello?”

“_________, I told you to get to somewhere safe!”

“I-I am! I’m with Nolan!”

“Hey, Cecil, don’t worry, I’m right here.” Nolan’s voice was filled with sarcasm, probably an old joke between the two. After all, they were both good friends to each other.

“No, you don’t understand, ______, listen to me-”

Suddenly you were grabbed by your arm, and dragged down. You were caught by Omni-Man before you hit the ground, though. Looking behind him, you saw two trucks coming towards you, along with multiple people in them, with weapons of all sorts.

You didn’t have time to ask who they were or what they wanted, as Omni-Man grabbed you and pulled out off the ground, and into the air. It took you a few moments, but you realized you were in the air. Flying.

Reaching for your phone in your pocket to call your dad back, you realized you must’ve dropped it. However, you weren’t about to waste your energy trying to get it back. Especially not when you were high above the ground. So you simply hung on for dear life as Omni-Man flew away from the shouting people in the cars.

~~~~~

“Where is she?”

“She went with Omni-Man, sir.”

Cecil stood there for a moment, wondering what the fuck happened. It was obvious now that Nolan had no intentions to harm you, but why would he take you and not tell you anything? Cecil wondered before something was handed to him. “We found this near where they took off, sir.”

It was your phone. Completely crushed to bits. “Omni-Man took it from her and crushed it without her knowledge, sir.”

“You started to shoot at her?! What the hell were you thinking!?”

The men stood there, completely still realizing their mistake. “We’re not kids playing at some game, this is real life. And now- I-” he really wanted to kill Nolan now. Debbie was going to become a widow, and he really didn’t care.

Walking up to the truck that was nearest to him, he opened the back and shuffled around, trying to find something, anything that would be of use.

Then he found his favorite gun. The only one he could actually hold himself without another person that stopped Omni-man.

Loading the ammunition, he walked over to Donald, who had a tablet in his hand. “Sir, we’ve found where they’re going.”

Looking at the area on the map, Cecil tapped his wrist watch, and said, “Good. Get the backup ready, and get Mark Grayson. Get Invincible.”

[sasa-gay-yo]

Just Us (Chapter 17: I Love You)

← Chapter Sixteen 

Warning: NSFW CONTEND AHEAD. MINORS DNI!

For my protection. That was his reason. The government had started following the Scouts extensively after the mission to reclaim Wall Maria. Soon after, they were only following Levi around, trying to find any way to purge him out of the government. He didn’t want me to get caught up in his mess, and he knew I would fight for him if I did, so he thought the only way was to leave me. He thought the only way was to hurt me so I wouldn’t come back because that’s how it used to work for him. Break their hearts and they’ll leave you alone. He also showed me a letter Jonas had written him a few weeks after their return. That coupled with the journal he read over and over was the tipping point for him. It would be better if I wasn’t around him, but he knew that the only way to make it possible for both of us was to build a barrier that we didn’t dare cross. 

Levi, 

She’s suffering because of you. Every day, I see her smile fade, looking out at the table you used to sit at. She cries at night when she thinks I don’t hear. She cried the other day, drunk on wine, thinking about what she had done wrong to make you act this way towards her. You need to let her go. If you aren’t going to come anymore, make it clear so she doesn’t have sickening hope to keep her going. She won’t keep going. She’s fallen in love with someone like you before, and even then she almost killed herself before she was let go. Let her go now. It’s the safest way. I’ll care for her. I’ll convince her. I’ll make her happy where you couldn’t. Just leave her to me and let her go. 

Jonas 

Yet, even with these excuses, the letter, and the journal, he apologized over and over again. Sometimes on his knees in front of me. Sometimes without words. At night, he would hold me now, having read about how many sleepless I had without him; lonely nights he caused. It seemed that two things had changed as a result of our “hiatus”. One, being Levi recognizing what was love and affection, and how he, indeed, needed it to survive now. He wasn’t afraid anymore, and behind closed doors was bold. He even stopped asking to do something, his timid self leaving and replaced with a more confident lover. Second, after the court hearing, he truly realized that I could take care of myself. Right there and then, facing death with one slip up, I was able to save him as well as the Scouts' reputation. It was this one strong act of loyalty that was enough to tip him over the edge. Levi was now completely mine. This was evident. There was to be no tip-toeing. There was no time to tip-toe anymore. We were to love and love vividly as neither of us had ever before. 

Still, my emotions were left untouched. While he was busy begging for forgiveness, the feelings I had in that year-and-a-half of isolation were pushed back in my mind. I didn’t want to ruin the time we had with what I deemed to be trivial. I didn’t want to remind him once again of the loneliness and desperation he left me with. The self-doubt. The self hated. All of these things. I left it for another day. Another time. And soon enough, it would eat away at me. In the near future, he would do it again. That was my resolve. He would do it again, leaving me alone with only my thoughts and a shirt of his, and these feelings would creep up inside of me.

I decided to wait until that happened. If it happened again, I would tell him what I was feeling. I wouldn’t let his apologizes and touches and kisses silence my wavering feelings of abandonment. I would tell myself that over and over again. I would tell him, yes. I would. I have to… but then his smile, vibrant and whole, would make me forget. Momentarily. His devotion. His touch. Love would come in place of abandonment. 

Sometimes it would scare me. I would wake in the middle of the night in his arms, his eyes staring down at me as he had yet to fall asleep, and I would feel this overwhelming sensation. I’d never felt this before. Not with any other man I’d been with. I thought I knew what love was until Levi and I started again. This was love. This was devotion. Willing to sacrifice ourselves for the other. The court case had made that clear. Still, it was scary to be this for another person. Those nights, I would tear up, remembering the lonely months previous, and he would brush my hair out of my face, holding me to his chest and humming me to sleep. How long until I lose him again? Was this overwhelming feeling in my chest only because I knew he would leave soon? Levi would never be permanently by my side. How can I keep loving someone like him this much without hurting myself? 

Levi was scared too, but for a different reason. He was scared of death. This was the demon that would always chase him. At night, when he found sleep, he would still jerk awake, sometimes sweat covered and tears falling down his cheeks. I would rub his back and sometimes get out of bed with him to talk it over a cup of peppermint tea. There was no hiding what he saw when his eyes were closed anymore. He would see me die. Isabel and Furlan. Erwin. Hange. His cadets. I realized during those nights how broken he truly was. How scared he was to love because of death, just as I was of abandonment. I’d reassure him over and over, rain hitting the windowpane above, but still, he would have this doubt in the back of his mind. Life made this doubt, and nothing was going to move it. I’d just reassure him enough to coax him back into bed and hopefully catch the last bits of sleep. 

Like Erwin had promised, Levi was given the month off. Which quickly turned into two at Levi’s harsh request and a nice letter I wrote to Erwin, attached to a box of freshly made cookies. How did Erwin expect for us to catch up in a month? The first month was for loving. The second was when we would actually talk over things. This was what I had determined. Erwin had sent back the empty box with only one note: Don’t get pregnant. I rolled my eyes at that and threw it into the trash.

“What did he say?” Levi gestured to the paper I’d thrown in the trash and I just shook my head. 

“Nothing important. Just a joke.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me in front of him as he sat down in a wooden chair. His hand let go of mine, moving it to touch my waist lightly. It was night time and the café had been vacant of people for a few hours. It was time to start preparing dough and fruit for the small batch of pastries and bread tomorrow. People were slowly starting to feel the effects of famine. Their stomachs and their wallets. Sadly, the only thing that seemed to keep me going was the reward Erwin had promised. With his money in my pouch, I went about the capital market with Hange, buying supplies I needed. They filled up the cart we had brought with us, but even now, only a month later, they were almost all gone. Reeve’s was suspending orders left and right, and soon they would start firing their workers. I was also getting to a desperate point as well. If people stopped coming into the café, remembering the hours I’d sat in the empty room this past month, I would close down and use the profit money for my own survival.

“What are you thinking about?” I looked down at him again, noticing how the tiny sliver of moonlight through an open crack illuminated his eyes to an almost silver color.

“The future.”

“That’s why I don’t do that,” he quipped back, dropping his hand to lean back in the chair, the front legs lifting up off the floor I’d just cleaned. I frowned and rolled my eyes at him, walking away to check on the rising dough. 

“Yes, we know.” He followed behind, rolling up his sleeves so he could help me. This time, there wasn’t enough dough to divide between the two of us, so he ended up cleaning the two tea cups we were drinking out of. 

“Why think of a future when you’re never guaranteed one?” I slammed the dough on the table, starting to take out my annoyance on it instead of him. 

“Ah, yes, because you’re one to live in the moment, Levi.” He just chuckled and ended up leaning on the sink edge, looking out at the single window that was opened. The moonlight was still reflected in his eyes. 

“You’re from the Underground. You should know why thinking about a future is dangerous.” 

“We aren’t in the Underground anymore, Captain Levi.” He frowned and I moved on to portion the dough.

“Stop saying my name like that,” he groaned out, turning his head to the side and looking at me out of the corner of his eye. He was more accustomed to his nickname now. Just Lev. When I said his full name or title, he knew I was mad or annoyed at him or something. 

“Thinking about the future gives me hope,” I used a knife to cut out four pieces of dough,  “It makes you want to live.” He held up his hands. 

“No one said I didn’t want to live.” I cut the next piece of dough rather harshly, making the knife slam against the cutting board.

“You’re content with dying.” 

“I’ve made peace with the idea, yes.” I grasped a small piece of dough that I’d just cut when hearing those words. Now I was angry. There was no drive in his voice. Made peace with dying? That just wasn’t acceptable. I threw the piece of dough at him and he just stood there, taking my assault. 

“Think about a future and then maybe you won’t be so content with dying, Levi.” He wiped off the leftover flour from his shirt, his expression unchanging. 

“Then what is your future? If you’re so adamant about it.” His voice had a hint of annoyance in it, trying to hold back from yelling at me for ruining his fresh shirt. This made me freeze up a bit. My mind went straight to one thing. One thing I know Levi has personally said wouldn’t happen. One thing I know that Levi could care less about. One thing he didn’t want. Therefore, I shook my head. 

“None of your business.” He turned to face my body, keeping one hand on the counter and the other on his hip. 

“You can’t just lecture me about this and then refuse to tell me.” This is when I realized the weight of his words before. Why would you think of a future when you know it won’t happen? I knew this future wouldn’t happen, and here I was mourning it. Fuck. He got me, and he knew he did. 

“No, I don’t have to tell you. It’s my future.”

“But I’m in it, aren’t I?” I dropped my hands, taking a deep breath in, “That’s why you’re so upset right now.”  I hung my head this time. Not wanting to feel tears welling in the corner of my eyes. I haven’t felt them for a month now, and they were starting to feel unwelcomed. How dare I feel sad at a time like this? I can’t feel sad when time is fleeting. 

“You’re in a lot of people's futures, Levi. Not just mine.” It was low, and he could tell by how my voice trembled that I was about to cry, but he wanted me to face his harsh reality. He wanted me to know the reality of the world. I couldn’t be optimistic about the future. No one in our world could be. I would just be disappointed. At least that’s what I thought. 

“Tell me then. What’s in our future?” I shook my head again, this time turning away from him and using one hand to wipe away the stray tears. 

“Tell me.” I kept my hand hovering over my mouth, hoping that if I started crying loudly, I’d be able to muffle them with it. 

“There are no titans. You and I, we run this cafe. We’re married and there are two little kids running around, knocking over empty chairs while people come in and out, smiling down at them. A boy and girl. The boy has black hair, the girl brown. Both have silver-grey eyes. You yell at the children, telling them to stop playing around. They apologize, looking up at you with your matching eyes, then back at me, waiting for me to soften your annoyance at them; releasing them to run around again as you groan because of my acceptance of their rowdiness… but then you look at the two of them and smile softly before being swept up in an order.” There was silence again, but this time it was dense. I had to put my hand over my mouth, muffling whatever whines were coming out of it. His silence was telling. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want it. I was the only one dreaming of these things at night, falling asleep in his arms. 

A hand landed on my shoulder, squeezing once, before drawing me into him from behind, completely enveloped with his chin resting on top of my head. He still didn’t say anything. He just tried to comfort me while I was mourning something I knew wouldn’t happen. He didn’t have to tell me. I knew. I knew. 

“I’ll try my best to give you what you want, but some of it is unattainable, Eva.” 

“What is?” He felt him swallow hard and his arms tightened around me. He wanted me to know that he was still here, even if the future he wasn’t going to be. He wasn’t going to try to promise me anything he couldn’t keep. 

“I’ll try my best.” That was his way of saying that none of it was going to happen. Sometime during my cries, he turned me around to settle into his chest. At this point, I wasn’t mad at him. I was just sad. Sad because I wouldn’t get to have what I wanted. Not with him. Jonas was right. At some point, I would have to sacrifice if I wanted to be with Levi. Erwin had told me that too. I just didn’t know at that point, almost three years ago, what the sacrifice was going to be. My sanity. My emotional clarity. A husband. Children. I was just going to be the woman who owns a cafe. I even have to sacrifice the public’s knowledge of my own relationship. I’d sacrifice it for someone who wasn’t at my side for most of the year. 

That was the scary part. The one that I’d think of over and over again at night. The scariest part was that deep down inside, I was ready to sacrifice it all for him. I loved him. Yet, he’d never said it back to me. Did Levi feel guilty for not being able to give me what I wanted or was this a struggle I’d have to get through alone? And I’d get through it alone… for him. 

That night, his grasp was a little tighter than before. He was still trying to make up for earlier. He was trying to show me what his feelings were, but he couldn’t say them out loud. That would be the nail in his coffin. That’s what still made me doubt. I’d look him in the eyes and just chant over and over tell me you love me. If he just said those three words, then I think everything would be all right. He’ll try his best. What did that mean? What was his best? At his best, was he still not able to say he loved me? 

The next few days, he would be closer to me when he could. He would hold me tighter when he could. He was trying to tell me that he was here in the present. He wasn’t going to leave right now. He was trying to compensate for the future he was convinced he couldn’t give me. He couldn’t give me kids and he couldn’t make me his wife, but he could try his best. Those words were a sting to my heart every time I heard it. His best would be leaving me at the end of every upcoming month to go out and try to kill titans while trying to not get killed himself. 

The next week, when he showed up from his weekly visit to the Scout HQ, rose balm in hand, everything in the past week seemed to be forgotten. The future, along with the emotions I had yet to tell him about, sat in the back of my mind. He bandaged my hands for me, applying the balm in a meticulous fashion, hoping that this time he would be able to get a big supply of it before he went on his expedition. 

“Erwin had gone to the capital a few days ago and Premier Zachary asked about you,” he informed me as he started with my right hand. I pulled a disgusted face and this made him glow with some semblance of happiness. 

“What did he say?” 

“According to Erwin’s short summary, he wanted to know more about you currently. Where you live, what you do. Things like that. I wouldn’t be surprised if he sent someone here to find you out.” I could hear the anger rise in his voice as he applied the balm. 

“Is that why you haven’t been coming downstairs recently? In case they see you.” He nodded. 

“It would get both of us in trouble if they started to suspect something. I don’t care at this point, however. Even if they saw us randomly meet each other in the marketplace, they would report it as a relationship. While the people who wanted to persecute me would see it as more evidence, the rat-bearded bastard Zachary is only interested in finding about more about his prey.” I swallowed at the word prey and Levi noticed that he didn’t tone down his wording like normal. Around me, he tried to be more gentle with his words, substituting curses for other things, but other times it slipped out. According to Hange, Levi had quite a vocabulary and he wasn’t afraid to yell at the cadets with it. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just sa-” 

“I know, Lev. I just have to be smart and reject any advances in a way that doesn’t make him upset. He is your highest up boss anyways.” He slipped back into a smile and nodded at my words. 

“So smart,” he mumbled and his praise made my stomach fill with a few butterflies. Levi doesn’t praise anyone. I found that out by being stuck in the Scout HQ for a day. I assisted Hange and snuck around out of sight, but I was still able to observe the way he trained with the cadets. Once when a cadet performed a near perfect maneuver, cutting through three titan dummies at a high-speed pace, all Levi could say to her was “If you were going so fast, why didn’t you get a fourth one?” I guess he only had a little bit of praise in his body and it was all reserved for me. 

“The Garrison members stopped playing cards last week, so I guess we can take that as notice the news of the trial has spread to Trost.” He tucked the very end of the wrap underneath another, taking a piece of medical tape and securing it tight. I told him that since today was my day off, he didn’t need to wrap my hands, but he acted like it was another one of his duties. Everyday before I start work, he would sit me down, sometimes in a sleepy silence, and wrap my hands. Other times, he would pull me upstairs after lunch rush to take the dirty wraps off and replace them, asking about work or some random thing he thought about while doing leftover paperwork in the office upstairs. While Erwin gave him the month off physically, he still had mountains of paperwork that he brought back from his weekly meetings. Times like right now, he would use wrapping my hands as a distraction from the mountain of papers growing. The two weeks leading up to the expedition were going to be the busiest, so much so that he couldn’t go to bed the same time as me and I’d wait up for him, reading a book. Most of the time, though, he would have to wake me up and move from his spot on the bed since I was sprawled over the whole thing. 

“I’ve finally got the paperwork for it, so I’d assume so. I had to literally confirm every scar that you and Hange wrote down, so thanks for that.” He turned back to the desk and I leaned forward to look at the paper, an empty diagram of a body drawn on it. 

“I can help you if you want.” He raised an eyebrow, looking out of the corner of his eye. 

“Is this just another excuse to get me undressed?” I gave him the same type of look. 

“Hypothetically, if it was, would it work?” He gave me one smirk before shedding off his shirt. Even if I’d seen this many, many times in the past two months, it never lost its effect. Levi’s clothes hide years of fighting, ODM usage, and overall hard labor and work. Of course he was going to have every possible muscle defined. His shoulders were my favorite. Broad. Easy to rest my head on.

“Here,” he handed me the paper and a pen freshly dipped in ink, “starts drawing and labeling. Don’t miss one or we’re fucked.” I started with the scar near his collarbone. 

“I don’t know. Prison can’t be that bad. You could beat all of them up and become king.” He rolled his eyes, sitting back on the chair so I could get a full view. 

“I think the last place I want to be is in a military prison. They’ll just lock me up in a single cell for the rest of my life. I’d break out though. Shitty guards.” 

“A fugitive then. I’d hide you.” He smirked and huffed once in laughter. 

“If we mess this paper up, we’re both going to become political fugitives. Where should we escape to?” I turned his head so I could get the side of a small scar under his jawline. 

“A cabin somewhere. Maybe by Utopia District. No one likes to go all the way up there… I hate to ask you this, but do you think they want me to write down all of your scars?” He raised his eyebrow in confusion and I turned the paper to him, pen pointing to the legs. 

“Oh, uh. Just to be safe?” He stood up, looking down at me, and took his pants off in one swift movement, folding them to put on top of the desk. Now, he was just sitting down in a pair of linen shorts. He pushed them up too, pointing out some scars on his inner thighs. 

“How did you get these? I don’t see you wear shorts.” I poked a scar on his inner thigh and he squirmed when I did that. Was there a certain tension building in the room? Yes, but I chose to be naïve to it.

“Knives can cut through fabric. Most of the ones on my legs are from the Underground. Others are from cutting through trees with ODM too fast. I had to get used to branches since there aren’t trees in the Underground.” I nodded, staring intently at the scars of his legs, and I could hear him cough once before turning his head to the side. We stayed in this position before I told him to sit backwards on the chair so I could get the marks on his back, flipping the page. It didn’t get past me how uncomfortable he looked trying to get settled with his front pressed up against the back of the chair. There was something in the way. This made me smirk and I reached out to touch his back, tracing some of the larger scars.

“This one is from a titan?” I remembered clearly one in the center of his back was marked by medical tape from Hange. I traced down it, seeing his fists grab the top of the chair slightly, making sure he knew which one I was talking about. 

“I was saving a cadet and got caught on its front tooth. Had to shove a sword in it’s ugly-ass mouth so it would let me go.” I hummed, acknowledging his story and moving on. Again, his back was as marvelous to look at as his front. Here, one could clearly see the muscles he had from carrying the ODM gear and wielding the dual swords. I remembered back to the first time he’d exposed himself like this when I took the bandages off for him. Back then, I don’t think I was in a state of mind to notice all the scars he had on his back. I was unconsciously tracing them as I drew and labeled on the official paperwork. 

“What’s this one? I don’t know it.” I traced again, a small circle near the edge of his linen undergarment. I felt him shiver under my touch and he looked over his shoulder at me, jaw a little tight. 

“Bullet wound.” It was short and I could hear the strain in his voice. When he turned back to face the wall, I let my smirk come out. If I stopped now, would he be able to turn back around in confidence? With this, I just leaned forward, pressing my cheek into his upper shoulder blade, feeling how warm his skin had become. 

“Finished?” He asked, and I just nodded into his skin. 

“You have so many.” He snorted. 

“I was born fighting. Plus, I have to always save these cadets’ asses on the field. It’s only natural.” He didn’t turn around, just crossing his arms and slightly leaning back into me. I closed my eyes, feeling his touch and warmth again. At night, he always sleeps with a shirt on, so I rarely get to feel him like this. 

“It’s only fair you let me see the scars you have.” I opened my eyes and looked up at him, his head half-turned to look down at me. Something in my stomach stirred when he said that. 

“I don’t have half as many as you. The biggest ones are my hands.” He apparently felt composed enough to turn around, shifting to hide something stirring in his lower half still. 

“Let me rephrase. You made me strip twice, once in front of the entire military brigade of Mitras. It’s only fair.” He gestured his hand forward and it made me snicker. 

“You’ve seen me without a shirt on a few times, Lev.” He opened his mouth to protest, and then closed it again, thinking of a better rebuttal. 

“I haven’t had my hands tracing your back for thirty minutes trying to rile you up.” I rested my head in one hand. So he did notice. 

“What do I get out of this?” He tsk-ed, crossing his arms over his chest again. 

“You always want a reward. Fine, I’ll give you one. Just let me look at your scars first. An equal exchange.” I perked up when he said that, and I could tell he almost laughed at how willingly I took my shirt off, leaving me only in an ivory brassiere and my skirt. Then his hand pointed down as to say ‘that too’. Just like him, I stood up, but I slowly unbuttoned my skirt and let it slide to the floor. Now we were both sitting there, only in our linen undergarments. We’d been here before, really, but only in short, spur-of-the-moment type situations. One moment, my underwear would be off, and then just ask quickly he was putting it back on so as not to expose me so much to himself. He did the same with his linen shorts. This was much more… intense. He took time to sit back, his eyes scanning over every curve of my body. It made me twitch, my foot tapping waiting for him to reach out and touch me like he said he was going to do. 

“You have a considerable amount. I hadn’t noticed before. Turn around.” He made a circle in the air with his finger and I obliged, leaning forward to rest my head on the top of the chair. I heard him move forward too, his breath wafting over my shoulders. This sent shivers down my spine, making me sit up straight. Then, he reached out with one finger, tracing the shallow white lines and indents. With each movement, a jolt was sent down my spine and into my stomach. I had to lower my head to hide my blush and the heavy breathing. He was giving me back what I had done to him. 

“This one?” He traced a medium-sized scar up and down, right below the back of my brasserie. 

“I-I fell out of a tree when I was younger and landed on Jonas’s bicycle.” He hummed and I felt the air that came out of his nose gloss over the right side of my neck. When I turned my head to the right, looking over my shoulder, his face was right there. This made me swallow hard and the butterflies in my stomach started flying around even faster. It was comical how this small touch was making my mind fuzzy. I had seen him bare before. I had touched him. He’d touched me. But nothing like this. 

“And this one?” It was a whisper right in my ear and it made me physically jump. He felt it and I heard a small laugh come from him. The scar he was tracing was in the middle of my back, just like the one he had. His finger was just tracing it up and down, waiting for my answer. 

“The… t-the edge of a… a brick building,” I breathed out, the ending shooting up an octave as his right hand went around my middle, pulling my back right into his chest. His head was resting in the crook of my neck, but he was only looking forward, staring at the same blackboard that I was, filled with possible battle formations and other things he’d written about fieldwork. His other hand, the left, came and squeezed my thigh, slowly tracing again. Up and down. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t feel his newfound arousal pressing into my back. This made me think hard, heart beating fast. While this wasn’t the barest we’ve gotten, this was the most intimate in ways of sexual attraction. Was this going to be the night? 

“All these scars you got before you met me, hm?” He shifted just his eyes to look up at me. I swallowed, not trusting my voice as his hand coasted higher and higher on my thigh.

“E-except my neck.” This time he hummed, and I felt the vibration filter through my back. His hand slowly went from my thigh to my neck, lightly grasping the sides and rubbing that same finger along the thin scar the refugees had given me that day so long ago. The scar itself would be gone in a few years, not being deep in the first place. 

“I wanted to kill them. For some reason. I usually never want to kill humans.” His voice was softer, remembering the same moment I was. 

“I’m glad you didn’t.” His grip on my waist tightened and he pulled me back enough so I was completely resting on him. His skin was still hot to the touch, almost burning. 

“I’ll do anything to protect you, Eva.” I lowered my head, my thoughts instantly going to a week ago. He would do anything but marry and have kids with me. 

“Anything?” I felt him seize up, just a tiny bit, knowing what I was referring to. I had just ruined his nice moment. This is why I’d held back my feelings for a month. Reasons like this. If I had just kept my mouth shut, what would we be doing now? 

“I can’t give you children.” 

“I know.” There was a pause in his heavy breathing. I couldn’t feel it on my neck. I couldn’t feel the in and out of his chest on my back. He was holding something in. He was going to say something that he had to prepare for. 

“But… I’ve thought… over this past week...” He sat up, his head no longer resting in my neck. At this new angle, with me leaning back all the way, he could just simply look down at me. There it was. Disbelief. My eyes widened in disbelief too at the words that exited his mouth. 

“... But I’m not opposed to taking your hand in marriage in the near future.” I sat up right away, looking him right in the eyes. They were as dilated as mine. 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” If he had a shirt on, I would have grabbed it to pull him to my lips. This time, I moved forward, my hands flat on his chest pushing him back against the chair. He moaned slightly at my sudden attack on his lips, but these kisses were deep. They weren’t like our various sessions on the couch or deep in the night when we both couldn’t sleep. I wanted to say thank you. Over and over. I wanted to say I love you. Over and over. And he responded, kissing me back with the same passion. 

He pulled me on top of him, my legs hanging off the chair on either side of his. His hands were slowly tracing up my back, leaving what felt like a path of fire with their ascent. I wrapped my arms around his neck, one hand in his hair and the other grabbing at the skin on his back, holding my composure. Usually, at this point, Levi would ask permission for a single thing. The only thing he would do that night. May I take your bra off? May I see you down there? Yet, there was no stopping. His mouth wasn’t pulling back from mine to ask a question, and if anything he was kissing me at a bruising pace. 

When he pulled my hips down on him fully, grinding up into the crevice of my inner thigh, I knew he wasn’t going to stop tonight. I tested it, arching my back into his chest, hoping to connect my core with his own. He whimpered once into my mouth when I did this, and still, he didn’t pull back like he did before. This made my heart burst, and something fueled me to push further. Levi was going to allow it. 

His lips detached from mine, going to my lower jaw, then my neck. With one hand, he moved my head so he had the complete amount of skin to work with. I held him close to me, my eyes fluttering closed as he found that perfect little spot at the base of my neck. 

“Levi,” I moaned, and I felt him smirk into the softness of my skin, not stopping his assault and leaving a small bruise, matching the other ones. Once his hands coasted over my waist, they went back up, stopping at the back of my brasserie, two thumbs slipping under the material to test the waters. I ground down on him again, letting him know that it was okay. His dick twitched up into me, excited by my given consent, and in one swoop he unbuttoned the linen fabric and threw it somewhere across the room. It was going to stay there. 

As soon it was off the heat of my skin contrasted with the cold air of the room, making goosebumps rise all over my skin. I arched my back again, giving Levi a full view of my breasts, which he was obliged to take. He just sat back, like he had when I’d taken my shirt off, and took in my body in front of him. This made my arousal grow, and I knew that at this point he could feel it seeping through the thin fabric of my undergarment onto his. He was just there, staring, not giving me any relief. This time, he wasn’t going to rush through things. One hand went up, his thumb glancing over the peak of my right nipple, making me shiver at the touch. He took that in too. The way my body was so ready to be under his. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mumbled, leaning forward to kiss the valley between both of my breasts, “All mine.” His voice was low and had taken on a new filter that I’d never heard before. His voice was making me drip. 

“Lev, please.” He looked up at me, face between both of my breasts, and slowly brought his other hand up to pinch my left nipple. I squirmed at this, my sense going overboard at just how little he was giving me. I tried to get relief by using his own arousal to rub against mine, but he had shifted back, only allowing me relief on his thigh. I would take it at this point. All of this sexual release had been building up the past month and a half. He would touch me so little, making me orgasm with his fingers or his mouth so quickly, and then move on with the rest of his day. He would never allow me to pleasure him either. It was like he was playing with me this whole time and I wanted it to be over. I wanted him to finally have his way with me the way I knew he wanted to. The way in which his eyes still lingered over my post-orgasm figure, wanting so bad to enter me. 

“Please what, Ev?” He whispered, teasing me completely. His elbows tightened around my sides, practically lifting me off his thigh so I couldn’t move anymore. Until I answered him, I was immobile. I bit my bottom lip, looking up at the ceiling as his thumbs just rolled over both of my nipples in tandem. He would make me sit here like this for hours if I didn’t answer.

“Touch me,” I groaned out, but he didn’t move. I tried to squirm again, motioning to him that I wasn’t having this, but he just chucked. 

“I am touching you, brat.” I outwardly groaned when he said that, letting him know just how dissatisfied I was with this current situation. The slow stimulation of my breasts was driving me crazy, and it was almost worse than this whole month-and-a-half of half-filled orgasms and longing touches. 

“Please fuck me.” This made his elbows go slack, but so did his hands, finding their way to my waist again, holding me there. It felt so demeaning having to ask him like this when he knew for so long that that was exactly what I wanted. Yet, he was still laughing, grabbing my chin so I had to look him right in the eye. He kissed the edge of my mouth, then my cheek, then my jaw, teasing over and over by pushing his thigh up into me at his pace. All I could do was sit there and take it. 

“I’m going to make love to you tonight, Evlynn. I’ll fuck you later.” He picked me up, standing from the chair, and carrying me a few feet into the bedroom. Slowly, he laid me down, coming to hover above me. He kissed me once, then twice, then descended to swirl one of my nipples in his mouth, the other being attended to by his hand. This time, I had nothing to grind into to relieve the aching in my core, and all I could do was rub my thighs together for some relief. He noticed this, and opened them, settling himself in between so I couldn’t rub against anything. 

“Any pleasure you feel tonight is going to be because of me,” he asserted, moving to my other breast. I just moaned under him, wrapping one leg around his hips to pull him closer onto me. His lips moved, kissing down my stomach, hovering over some of the scars he assessed earlier. While he was taking his time, moving so slowly, I had to relieve something, so I grabbed my breasts myself. Rolling them in my hands harshly to feel something other than his teasing, featherlight kisses. 

“Hands up!” He bit into my thigh. I blinked, looking down at him as he was directly between my legs. His eyes were blown out and intense, and he had given me that voice. The one he talks to the cadets in. He was ordering me. With wide, doe-eyes, I did what he said, not daring to go against his orders. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled into my thigh, moving his hands under them to give a better vantage point. Again, he started teasing me. The closest he got to my center was kissing the edge of my undergarment. Above him, I was a whimpering mess, trying to move my body so maybe his lips would slip somewhere else, but he moved his hands up to hold me down into the bed. For a third time, I couldn’t move and I had to take everything he wasn’t giving to me. 

“I want to take you in slowly. I’ve waited so long for this.” Even the breath he let out from that sentence missed my core, giving me no form of relief. I could only grab onto the pillow above me, his pillow, and pray he would give me it soon. I had gotten so accustomed to him just going for it, that now this was torture. He wasn’t giving me his fingers, his mouth; nothing. It had me groaning and whimpering under him louder than ever before. 

“Please, please, please, please.” I got some power and bucked my hips up to his face, which made him smile up at me and run one finger down my slit, feeling the wetness of the cloth covering it. 

“All for me?” I just nodded, my head having been thrown back by that one single touch, “Words.” He lightly slapped my clit, reprimanding me. 

“Ugnh - fuck!” He slowly circled my clit with one finger, waiting for me to answer his question. The way he was commanding me was setting a fire in my stomach and it made me mold to comply. 

“All for you!” I let out in one breath, a loud moan following as it gave my clit a single kiss, the fabric still in between me and his mouth. If he didn’t start soon, this bastard was going to make me cry. My eyes widened then, looking only at the ceiling in realization. He wanted me to beg. He wanted me to use my words. 

“Levi, please take it off.” He looked up at me, only the tip of his tongue circling my clothed clit, motioning to the reason why he hadn’t taken it off yet. My hands were at my sides, clutching the sheets. Slowly, I lifted them up again, crossing them above my head to try and secure them. 

“There we go,” he said, pulling off the only article of clothing left on my body. When he did this, he sat upon the bed, his hands going with him. There he was, looking down at me completely naked before him. His eyes were darkening still as he could see my wetness glisten just for him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he took one finger, always one finger, and dragged it down my slit collecting the juices that were already there, “My beautiful girl,” he pushed his one finger inside of me, “All laid out for me. Finally.” 

He moved his finger in and out, drawing moans from me. They were loud. They were whimpers. He was finally touching me in the way I wanted. Not fast. Not quick. He added a second finger, which made my back lift off the bed slightly and he moved to push me down with one hand. In and out, in and out, just stretching me. Only when he felt satisfied with how much I drenched his fingers did he move his mouth down. He took no time latching onto my clit, giving it kitten licks at first. As soon as he sucked on the bud once, then he allowed his fingers to curve, hitting the one spongy spot he’d studied the location of. My eyes were blown out, stars dancing in my vision. The way he was working his tongue over the most sensitive part of my body and using his fingers to get me up to my high had me spinning. He’d never used them in tandem. No man had ever used them like this either. I was shaking, my nails digging into my forearms, trying to keep them above my head. I didn’t want it to stop. If I dropped my hands he would no doubt stop. I wanted to drop them and shove his head down on me further. 

“Look at me.” I did, right away. Wasting no time and giving him no excuse to punish me again. I looked as his mouth was completely on my core, eating me like a man who had starved. No, he was a starving man, now getting full off of me. His tongue was giving long, harsh licks to my clit, and now his fingers had moved to a faster pace, hitting my g-spot with every thrust. I chanted his name over and over like a poem. Like one of those hymns, the Order of the Walls would sing on the streets. My song. Levi. Levi. Over and over again. He wouldn’t let me fuck myself on his tongue, one arm completely over my hips, and soon, I felt the knot grow in my lower stomach. 

“I-I’m… close!” I shouted out, and his eyes conveyed complete lust, looking up at me writhing for him to give me what I needed. I needed to cum like this. It was nothing I’d felt before. The knot was so tight in my stomach and I was yelling so loud, the neighbors a building over might come and knock tomorrow morning. 

“Please. Please, can I cum? Please!” His mouth came down once more, harder, sucking only on my clit. All it took was one harsh curve of his fingers coupled with a single, long lick, and I was coming undone on his tongue. This wasn’t like before. My hands came down, grabbing the sheets as I was sent into my high at a crushing pace. His fingers were still going in and out, overstimulating me as I shook from head to toe. The only thing on my tongue was his name. Once I started to jerk away from his fingers, tears welling in my eyes motioning to him that I had come down from my orgasm, he pulled them out, sticking them right in his mouth to clean them. 

“So dirty.” 

He moved back up my body quickly, latching his lips onto mine, giving me a taste of myself. His tongue slipped in too, now not at that slow and deep pace we had before in the office. This time, he was the one being tempted by a release. He ground down on me, my wetness covering his shorts again. This time, he was completely hard and when I put my hand down to rub him, to tease him like he did me, I relished in the fact that he didn’t move my arm away. He let out a grunt in my ear as I finally was able to move my hand inside his undergarments and grab onto his dick, hard and long. I felt it all. The veins, the ridges, just how big he was. Slowly, I jerked him up and down, using my thumb to tease his slit. His jaw tensed when I did this too like he had to hold back to urge to ravish me in the way he told me he wasn’t going to do. 

“Can I take them off?” I asked, and he went to kiss me, this time lighter as he looked directly into my eyes. He reached down and took them off himself, my hand still going up and down his length. Now, we were finally both naked in front of each other. Not just one or the other. I was finally touching him. He was finally letting me see all of him. I looked down, noticing the size and the redness he was displaying. I knew then what I wanted to do, but when I went to slide down to try and give him relief with my mouth, an equal exchange, he held me below him, a harsh grip on my hip. 

“I told you. This is about you.” He reached down and took my hand off of him, lacing our fingers together. The cocky captain that was ordering me while between my legs had left, and I saw the vulnerability in his eyes as he lined up with my entrance. I put my other hand on the back of his neck, encouraging him to push forward. 

“Are you sure you want me to?” He asked, a moment of doubt. He’d never made love to anyone before. 

“I want only you, Levi.” I pulled him down to kiss him, another deep and long kiss, and when he pushed into me completely, we both groaned into the kiss. It had been a while since I had sex, and he could tell by the way I winced softly as he pushed back in again. He kissed my forehead, then my cheek, his hand squeezing mine as he slowly started a pace in and out. After two thrusts, he hit the spot inside of me that sent my body reacting up into his. I was no longer in pain, and both of us were wrapped in pleasure. He angled his hips up expertly so he would hit my g-spot with every thrust, and soon his head was buried in my neck, whispering praise. 

“You feel so good. You’re so good. Mine. All mine. So beautiful, taking me like this. Perfect.” I threw my head back again, and he took my other hand which was digging into his back, putting it above my head. He used one hand to hold them up there, and the other to squeeze the sides of my neck, cutting off my air. This sent shockwaves to my core and my head. 

“Oh my, yes! Yes, yes, yes. Levi!” 

“Ugh, so fucking gorgeous with the moonlight on you. Fuck, you were made for me. Look how well you’re taking me. Pussy sent from above. Just for me.” His praises made me pant and cry with every thrust, making my body set on fire once again. The knot was ever-so tighter with him pounding into me, losing whatever slow self-control he had earlier. We were both chasing our highs for our first time together. I looked into his eyes, the moonlight shining into the grey, making them seem so bright. So open. He’s going to marry me. That’s the thought that was running through my head. This man. This handsome, gorgeous man was going to be mine. This man, who was whispering sweet nothings in my ear making me feel like some goddess, was going to be mine. 

“Oh my god, fuck!” He grunted loudly in my ear as his hips snapped harshly into mine. 

“I’m going to… I’m-” He took the hand off my neck, reaching down to circle my clit. 

“Me, too,” he breathed out. So close. So close. 

“Levi!” I called out, as he pinched my clit ever-so-lightly, sending me right into my high. This time, I couldn’t control how my body was moving below him, my second orgasm taking complete control of me. He was still pushing in and out, having to use the hand that was on my clit to hold my hips down. 

“Fuck, Eva. God, I’m going to…” He whined loudly in his ear, the overstimulation hitting me again, and this seemed to be what sent him over. Pulling out quickly, he came on my stomach, head thrown back in pleasure as his hand milked everything out of him. So much came out, painting my stomach in white. I was breathing too hard, trying to recover, to care. He still had his head buried in my neck, and I realized what he was whispering, caught up by the pleasure his orgasm had brought him. 

“I love you so much, fuck. Eva. Love you. So much. So perfect. Evlynn. God. What did you do to me?” This made me breathe harder, eyes watering finally hearing him say those words to me. I didn’t even move when he got up, turning the oil lamp in the bathroom up to go get a towel.

He finally said it. 

His feet padded against the ground, and I sat up on my elbows, looking at him standing in the door, one arm gripping the side frame. His eyes were still ever intense, looking at me down on the bed, towel in hand. My legs were still shaking, and the look he was giving me wasn’t helping. My chest was moving up and down now, but not because of the activity previous. To break the tension, he just smiled, coming over on the bed to wipe me off, folding the towel, his towel, and putting in on the top of the dresser to clean later. He grabbed the blankets, opening them to crawl underneath and pull me with him. I was lying completely on top of him and he had one hand rubbing my back, the other playing with my hair. It had been five minutes and we still hadn’t said a word to each other. 

“I love you,” he whispered into my hair, and I smiled, snuggling into him more. A few tears came to my eyes too, just like when he said he was going to marry me. 

“I love you, too.” He sighed and pulled me up higher so my head was in his neck this time. He pulled the blanket up higher so that I was covered up to my neck. 

“No one’s ever told me that before.” I gripped him tighter, sitting up so that I was looking down into his eyes. There it was again. Disbelief. Fear. I needed to get rid of that. 

“I love you, Levi.” He just nodded, smiling slightly up at me. 

-

“Oh god, fuck!” I yelled into the pillow, his hand pushing my head down into the mattress as he pounded into me from behind. I had to turn my head to the side so I could breathe with the force he was using. I knew I was going to have bruises on my legs from earlier in the night, but now that was going to be mixed with handprints as he found out quickly how nice my ass bounced when he slapped it. 

“Levi!” I called out at one aggressive thrust, hitting the spot I desperately wanted him to hit. He was being mean to me this morning, saying how I was so rude going to leave him in bed alone to go down to work after he’d just made love to me. He also said he promised to fuck me after. So here we were. Now, I was going to be late. At least there weren’t any customers who came in this early anymore. They would be hearing my moans loud and clear through the floorboards.

“That’s not my name, brat.” He took his hand off the bed frame and pulled me up by my hair, my body now flush against his chest. I let out another moan as this position made it so easy for his dick to angle up and give me the high I wanted. Another hash slap to my bottom told me he wanted me to correct myself. 

“Captain!” I yelled out, and this satisfied him, shoving me back down and starting at a relentless pace that made me and the bed move forward. I grabbed at anything to keep me stationary, and my moans were beginning to sound dumb, mixed with the saliva coming out of my mouth. I couldn’t catch my breath as he hit against my cervix with every thrust. 

“C-Captain! I’m c… coming!” He sped up, trying to fuck me through my climax, only to reach his own, pulling out to spread his seed over my bottom. After he was done, signaled by him going to get the towel he had folded up last night, I collapsed down onto the bed, stomach first. My knees were in pain from being in that position for so long, him using his dick to tease me into oblivion and submission.

“My legs…” I groaned to him as he cleaned me off and he just gave one masochistic chuckle, throwing the towel into the dirty clothes bin. 

“Should I sneak down and put a sign on the door that you won’t be open today?” I rolled over, now on my back, looking up at him, still bare, but one hand on his hip. He seemed completely unaffected by what he just did to me, other than being extra sweaty. I narrowed my eyes at him, not liking this sudden cockiness.

“Should I tell Hange you like to be called Captain in bed?” I smirked up at him and his smile dropped. He was now glaring at me, but the blush in his cheeks didn’t slide past me one bit. If I could sit up without hurting my guts, I would poke his cheek. 

“G-Get the fuck up… you brat. How can you have such a bad work ethic? Sleeping in for so long!” He grabbed a fresh pair of linen pants, sliding them on quickly, and walking out of the room to get away from me. 

“I love you!” I called out to him. 

“Thanks!”

Chapter Eighteen →

Chapter Masterlist

[zelenacat]

When We Were Young- An Obitine Story- Chapter 17

After meeting the new government officials personally and sending them off to do their jobs, much of Satine’s time was spent with the Corruption Committee. It began with mandatory inspections, questionnaires, wage increases, and tighter import laws. At the end of every day, the Duchess found herself exhausted.

“How are you little ones,” she asked her stomach, cradling the now noticeable lump, “we’ve had quite the day haven’t we?”

A knock came at the door and Khaami got up to get it.

“It’s Hera.” 

The door opened and the nurse stepped inside, hauling a large bag with her. Khaami shut the door and locked it.

“I know it may look like a lot, Your Grace,” Hera set her bag down, “but there are many tests we have yet to run.”

“Such as?”

“You may need vitamins,” Hera looked up, a bottle in each hand, “and certainly calcium pills.”

The Duchess relented and lay back against her pillows. Parna pulled down her covers. 

“How have you been feeling lately?” the nurse asked, approaching Satine with a stethoscope.

“Tired mostly,” the Duchess answered, “although I have been trying to get my rest.”

Hera listened and placed her stethoscope on Satine’s stomach, waiting. 

“Everything sounds good,” she smiled, “but I did bring the portable ultrasound just in case.”

As the blurry images of two blob-like shapes became vaguely recognizable as human, the Duchess swallowed hard.

“Satine?” Parna questioned.

“I haven’t called Ben in a while,” she confessed, “and I still haven’t told him.”

Hera looked up, “I take it Ben is the father?”

“Yes,” Khaami answered for Satine, “and he has quite the high-profile job.”

“Dear me,” Hera seemed to want to ask something, but then thought better of it, “I assume it’s best the less I know.”

“Yes,” Satine nodded, “but I will tell you that I love him.”

“I wouldn’t think anything else, Your Grace.”

The Duchess smiled at that, at least there were some who knew her true character.

“Just to be safe,” Hera stood, “I suggest you take vitamins and calcium pills, prenatal pills would be too risky I think.”

“I agree,” Satine nodded, “but I appreciate your help, I want my girls to be healthy.”

“I’m sure they will be.” Hera grinned.

Khaami helped the nurse to the door while Parna changed Satine into her nightdress.

“How is the status of the birth basement?” Satine asked, feeling weird even to call it that.

“Almost ready,” Khaami answered, “we have towels, blankets, numbing shots, diapers, but Oiyo still needs a new battery.”

“Perhaps Hera could be of help.” Satine suggested.

“Yes,” the Duchess nodded, “enlist her on that.”

“I am still worried about the falsified documents,” Parna confessed, “are you sure we’re untraceable?”

“Let’s begin withdrawing some of my personal funds,” Satine instructed, “we’ll pay upfront.”

Khaami stood, “I will go speak with Hera.”

Parna grabbed Satine’s comm.

“I suggest you call your Jedi.”

Satine swallowed, “I hardly know what I’ll say.”

“Conversation will flow naturally,” Parna smiled, “I can tell he cares for you.”

The Duchess nodded, grateful for her lady, then dismissed Parna.

Satine pressed a button, “Ben?”

No response.

“Obi?”

The third time, Satine succeeded.

“Hello, darling,” Obi-Wan’s voice was slightly strained, “it’s been a while.”

Satine was not fooled, “What’s happening, Obi?”

“We’re recovering after a battle.”

“Don't tell me they put you on the front lines again,” Satine frowned, “you just recovered.”

“I made for a good patient.” Obi-Wan replied.

Satine sighed, “You need your rest, Ben.”

“I can’t,” Obi-Wan swallowed, “I can't sleep when I dream of you.”

The Duchess found herself at a loss for words. Obi-Wan turned on his holo-figure and Satine could physically see his worry.

“Love?”

Satine turned her holo-figure on, “You’re such a romantic, Ben.”

Obi-Wan actually laughed at that.

“Do you know when you’ll be coming home?” Satine asked hopefully.

“Not as long as we thought I think,” Obi-Wan smiled, “I should be relieved in about two or three months.”

The Duchess’ face fell.

“Satine?”

“That’s still a long time, Obi.” she whimpered.

“I can only hope that it’ll be sooner,” the Jedi replied, “I think of you all the time.”

“You’re often on my mind as well.” Satine confessed.

“And how are politics now,” Obi-Wan asked, “any corruption arrests?”

“We’ve had a handful in the past two months,” Satine nodded, “though I still worry for my government.”

“If anyone can pull her system through this,” the jedi winked, “it's you, Satine.”

“I appreciate your kind words, Ben.”

A moment of sad silence filtered into the conversation and Satine drew in a breath.

“Obi-Wan?”

“Yes?” The Jedi sounded concerned.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Ah yes, your medical situation?”

The way he said it, Satine wondered if he already knew.

“Ben,” tears welled in Satine’s eyes, “I was afraid, so I kept putting off telling you, but-”

“Satine,” Obi-Wan’s voice grew quiet, “are you-”

“Yes,” the Duchess sobbed, “five whole months.”

It was a long time before Obi-Wan spoke again.

“Ben, Ben, please answer me.”

“I thought you were sick,” the Jedi’s voice quivered, “I thought you were being stubborn.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Satine,” Obi-Wan suddenly dropped a mask over himself, Satine could see it through the hologram, “but are your duties overwhelming you?”

“No,” Satine shook her head, “please don’t be mad at me, Ben, I didn’t know what to do and what would happen.”

“You obviously want to keep the baby-”

“Obi-”

“So who will raise it?”

“Them,” Satine corrected, “twin girls.”

Obi-Wan sighed.

“And there’s another thing,” Satine bit her lip, “I’ve been lying to you for nearly eighteen years.”

The Jedi’s brow furrowed, “What?”

“Ben,” the Duchess swallowed, “there are other children.”

Obi-Wan froze, his mouth half-open in shock.

“Four others.”

“You’ve lied to me,” Obi-Wan repeated, “for this long?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

It came out as a whisper, that’s what broke Satine.

“My enemies would’ve claimed I wasn’t Mandalorian and they would've never accepted you as my spouse. And now, I fear they’ll call me a Republic Sympathizer and a hypocrite.”

“You are,” Obi-Wan crossed his arms, “you can’t promote neutrality if you have ties to one side.”

“Padme knows,” Satine argued, “and she’s been ever so helpful.”

Obi-Wan leaned back in shock, “Anakin knows, and Quinlan too.”

“They’ve met the children, they knew immediately.”

The Jedi was mad. Satine could see it.

“I have children, six children,” he asked, “and yet I was the last one to know.”

“Ben-”

Obi-Wan was aghast, “Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to compromise your morals.” Satine frowned.

“Morals? Morals! Satine, these are my children!”

“Being a Jedi means everything to you, Obi,” Satine sighed, “I fell in love with the chivalrous knight in you, you would’ve been a completely different person had you left the Order because of me.”

“So you thought about it,” Obi-Wan was suddenly far away, “you thought about saying the word?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t.”

Satine swallowed, she didn’t know how to respond.

Obi-Wan scoffed, “Do you even love me?”

“Ben-”

“No, Satine,” Obi-Wan’s rage finally boiled over, “you made a decision without me, one that affected both of us, and you made the wrong choice.”

“Obi-Wan-”

“You lied to me,” growled the Jedi, tears in his eyes, “I could’ve been a father.”

“You are a father.”

Obi-Wan went silent.

“Do the children know.”

“Yes, I’ll ask if they’d meet with you.”

“I should’ve known them their whole lives,” Obi-Wan balled his fists, “and now I have to meet them like some stranger.”

“Ben-”

“Don’t call me that!”

Satine grew stiff, “Forgive me, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan shook his head.

“I won’t contact you until I’ve returned, Duchess, and then it will only be to meet my children.”

He hung up. He hung up on her. Satine screamed.

”Your Grace!” 

The door burst open, Jaym and Gorg came in, their eyes widened when they came to rest on her stomach.”

“Get my ladies, Jaym,” the Duchess ordered, “and Gorg, go to the Med Ward and ask for Nurse Hera.”

The guards bowed, shutting the door behind them. As soon as the door slammed, Satine burst into tears. Throwing herself back on her mattress, the Duchess pounded her fists on the bed until her cohort arrived.

“Satine,” Khaami gasped, trying to restrain her, “you’re going to be alright.”

“Please,” Parna grabbed Satine’s thrashing legs, “I’m sure he didn’t mean whatever he said.”

Hera began calmly singing to Satine in Mando’a, gently rubbing her thumb on Satine’s palm.

“He said,” the Duchess gasped, “he said he wanted nothing to do with me.”

Parna sighed, “Satine, I think he’s just mad.”

“I had no choice,” the Duchess yelled, “it had to be a secret!”

“Sh,” Khaami brushed Satine’s hair from her eyes, “all will be well.”

“How do you know that?” Satine accused.

Khaami explained, “He’s always been very devoted to you-”

“And when he met you again,” Parna added, “the spark rekindled.”

“You are the mother of his children, Your Grace,” Hera handed Satine a tissue, “you two are bound for life.”

That brought tears to Satine’s eyes, “Ben doesn’t say things lightly.”

“But what did he say exactly?” Parna asked.

“He said the next time he contacted me,” Satine sniffed, “would be only to meet the children.”

A silence fell.

“Well,” Hera handed Satine another tissue, “you have some time right?”

“When I was eighteen I bore him twins,” Satine confessed, “And at twenty I did so again.”

Hera was aghast.

“How-”

“My ladies and a medical droid,” Satine explained, looking to Khaami, “Khaami was there.”

The lady nodded, “Her Grace was very strong.”

“But,” Hera stuttered, “but the birth certificates?”

“We have the real ones,” Parna answered, “they’re hidden.”

There were many things Hera could’ve said or done at that moment, this, Satine was certain of, but what the nurse said was kind.

“I’m so sorry, Satine.”

With a sigh, the Duchess lay back down.

“Let me just check your heartbeat,” Hera stood, going to her bag, “just in case.”

Everything was physically fine with her, but Satine knew Jaym and Gorg would need answers.

“My guards,” Satine turned to Khaami, “have them come in, Hera will stand guard.”

Gorg and Jaym were shocked, so shocked, in fact, that they’re eyes nearly bulged from their sockets when they did a double take of their Duchess.

“Did,” Gorg stuttered, “is this because-”

Jaym was much less confused, “It was the Jedi, wasn’t it?”

“No one can know,” Satine stated firmly, “I will allow no jokes, no snide comments, and certainly no illusions to my romantic acquaintances. Do you understand?”

The guards looked at each other.

“Do you understand?” Satine repeated.

The guards saluted, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Now,” Satine straightened, “I want you to grant Master Kenobi’s personal shuttle access to all of Mandalorian space.”

“Kenobi,” Jaym’s eyes went wide, “I told you it was Kenobi!”

“Kriffing Kenobi,” Gorg gasped, “the Jedi poster boy?”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “What did I just say?”

Jaym swallowed, “No jokes, snide comments, or romantic allusions of any kind.”

“Correct.”

Gorg sighed before he bowed, “We shall do as Your Grace has ordered.”

Satine’s gaze softened, “Thank you.”

Hera came in as the guards left and collected her bag.

“Sleep well, Satine,” she instructed, “you need your rest.”

“I will.”

Parna said nothing, but hugged the Duchess instead.

“Thank you.” Satine whispered.

“We’re right down the hall if you need anything.” Khaami reiterated.

Satine nodded, and then she was left with her feelings. After an hour, she realized she couldn’t sleep and grabbed her comm. She sent the same message to Mara, Tristan, Tyra (who now had a comm of her own), and Korkie. They likely wouldn’t see it till the morning, but Satine needed it off her conscious that she wasn’t hiding her children from their father.

The Duchess hardly slept at all that night. Some time around 2:30 her body crashed and her eyes refused to open, but she didn’t feel refreshed in the morning when Khaami gently nudged her.

“We let you sleep a little later,” she began, “but there is an urgent matter the council needs you for.”

Groaning, Satine rolled over. She could hear Parna in her closet pulling out clothes.

“Please, Your Grace,” Khaami continued, “it’s about the war.”

“I hate war.” Satine whined, sitting up.

“That’s a good girl,” Khaami rubbed Satine’s back, “now let’s get you ready, you have a big day ahead.”

The corset was painful, as it generally was, but it made the Duchess sit straighter in her throne. She was facing the ruling council and some of the clan heads that lived nearby. Satine felt that her usual uniform of purple and blue was too plain for such a gathering.

The new Prime Minister was actually an old one, Jaru Djarin had never liked Almec, he’d always rubbed her the wrong way. So after his four years were up, Jaru ran against him. Due to obvious reasons, she won.

“Do forgive us for meeting early, Your Grace,” the Prime Minister began, “but the head of the Trade Federation contacted me and specifically expressed displeasure in our situation. He would like to meet and discuss new terms.”

Satine smiled, “This is a good reason for meeting early.”

That was met with a few chuckles.

“We shall most graciously accept the Trade Master’s visit,” Satine decided, “did he give any dates that he’s available?”

And so it was decided, the Trade Master would be arriving in three days. There was much to do. Waldie and her seamstresses worked late to add stiff linings into many of Satine’s dresses. Though none knew why. Satine oversaw the menu and preparations for public appearances. It was also decided that the Trade Master and his delegation would be housed down the hall from Satine, Parna and Khaami would sleep in Satine’s parlor. The Duchess also made a friendly call to her dearest acquaintance, Senator Amidala of Naboo, who had much to say on the Trade Federation and their past dealings.

“Interesting,” Satine nodded, “thank you for your help, Padme.”

“Of course, oh,” Padme paused, “and congratulations.”

“What for?” Satine asked.

“Obi-Wan is being traded for Master Fisto in two months,” Padme suddenly became worried, “I thought you knew.”

A heartbeat passed.

“When did he find out?”

“Anakin mentioned it yesterday afternoon,” the Senator gasped, “Satine, did you and Obi-Wan get in a fight?”

“I told him about the children,” Satine confessed, “and naturally he’s not happy.”

Padme sighed, “I’m sorry, Satine.”

“It’s good to know,” the Duchess tried not to sound hurt, “if he chooses he might attend the birth.”

“He might.” agreed Padme.

After a moment of still silence, Satine thanked Padme for her call and hung up. She cried for a little bit, then went to try on her refurbished dresses.

“These are quite snug.” observed one of the seamstresses.

“They should be,” Waldie replied, “that’s how Her Grace likes it.”

“But Lady Waldie,” another seamstress took out a measuring tape, “these dresses shouldn’t be tight.”

Waldie glanced at Satine, “I don’t see how we did something wrong if Her Grace enjoys the dresses.”

“I do,” Satine said earnestly, “that’s why I ask you to touch them up so often.”

“Work on dresses for the Ladies Khaami and Parna,” Waldie instructed, “I will finish the Duchess’ dress.”

Satine nodded, grateful to the seamstress.

“There are rumors, Your Grace,” Waldie whispered, “that you are expecting.”

The Duchess frowned, “I should start leaving trails of fake blood everywhere.”

Waldie snorted, “I suggest you allow the Duke of Sundari to understudy your work with the Trade Master.”

“It will set everyone straight.” Satine agreed.

Parna giggled and the Duchess turned her head.

“I feel like a princess.” the Lady twirled.

Satine’s mind went to her daughters, the nearly grown ones, they should be princesses. A wave of sadness flowed over the Duchess, she wished her children could be where they should be, could claim their birthrights. Unfortunately, if anyone found out about their father…

“Duchess?”

Satine looked up, “Hm?”

“Your advisors are looking for you.”

“Ah, yes,” Satine straightened, “the security for public appearances.”

Gorg and Jaym were Satine’s top protectors, to be with her always. Now that they knew, it was important that she keep them close to her if they had any questions, or if she was kidnapped. Satine tried not to think about the latter.

“Hello?”

“Hi Headmistress Gren,” Satine smiled even though the woman couldn’t see her, “this is the Duchess Satine.”

“It’s good to hear from you, Your Grace,” the headmistress pleasantly intoned, “your nephew has been doing very well in his classes.”

“That’s good to hear,” Satine’s pride decided, “speaking of which, can Korkie be excused for the next three days, I would like him to be here for the Trade Master’s visit.”

“Of course, Your Grace,” the headmistress agreed, “I always enjoy it when a student gets government experience.”

Satine thanked the headmistress for her time and asked if Korkie could be sent home early.

“Of course, Your Grace,” Headmistress Gren appraised, “you should see him within the hour.”

“Thank you.”

The Duchess smiled to herself, Korkie disliked his fittings, this would be fun. The Duke of Sundari groaned when they approached the sewing rooms.

“Lady Mother,” he whispered, quite agitated, “I can’t stand still for that long.”

“It’ll be quick,” Satine assured, “and if you’re good, you can help me taste the deserts.”

Korkie glowed, “Wonderful.”

In the meantime, Satine instructed Parna to fetch a jar of blueberries and a knife from the kitchen while she and Khaami looked for excess hair brushes.

“Why are we doing this again?” Parna asked.

“To quell the maid’s suspicions,” Satine answered, “I’ve heard they’re worried about the lack of bloody material in my trash cans and laundry.”

Parna grinned, “So we’re going to make fake blood.”

“Blueberries were an excellent choice, Your Grace,” Khaami winked, “how clever you are!”

Satine laughed, “I feel like we’re ancient witches mixing a potion.”

Parna snorted. Khaami grabbed a bowl.

“Okay,” the lady began, “put a bunch of blueberries into this bowl and smash them.”

Satine giggled like a little girl as she took her hairbrush and smashed the blueberries. 

“We need to make sure this is thick enough,”Parna added, “how do we do that?”

Khaami grinned, “My mother-in-law once thickened strawberry compote with cornstarch and water, I bet that would work as well.”

Satine nodded, “Get some.”

They finished smashing the blueberries as Khaami returned. 

“Let’s strain the liquid from the berries,” Parna suggested, turning to Satine, “I’ll hold the bowl if you hold your hands out.”

And so they did, it was messy and fun, Satine even got to lick the leftover berry juice from her hands.

“How proper, Satine.” Parna teased.

Then Khaami added cornstarch to the mixture and filled the jar a quarter full of water.

“Now,” Khaami smiled wickedly, “we drop some of our berries into the mixture.”

Once their job was done, the women conferred and decided their potion needed to be redder. 

“We could put some of my blood in.” Satine suggested.

Parna frowned.

“It would have to be somewhere hidden by your dress,” Khaami agreed, “perhaps your leg?”

So a small slit was made in the Duchess’ leg and added to the foul solution.

“Tomorrow morning we’ll put some on your sheets,” Parna decided, “and some on the back of your nightgown.”

Satine giggled, “That will be fun.”

After cleaning up, the Duchess took the Duke of Sundari down to the kitchens, where they would taste desserts. Korkie was smiling so bright Satine was beginning to wonder if he already had eaten some chocolate.

“Lady,” the Duke burst, “Lady Aunt?”

“Yes?” Satine took a bite of her macaroon.

“I think I have a girlfriend.”

Satine began to cough. Korkie laughed.

“Remember when those exchange students from Cerea came?”

“She’s Cerean?” Satine asked.

“Yes, she likes to draw and we traded numbers,” Korkie said excitedly, “and we’ve been talking ever since.”

“That was two months ago!”

Korkie looked down, shy, “She just asked me to be her boyfriend.”

“Korkyrach Kryze!”

The Duke flinched at the Duchess’ giddy tone.

“Tell me her name!”

“Kara Adi.”

“Pretty,” Satine remarked, “surname?”

“Mundi.”

The Duchess paused for a moment, that name rang a bell.

Satine gasped, “I know her mother, Shea, she was the Cerean representative on trade many years ago!”

“Yeah,” Korkie nodded, “her mother’s retired now.”

The Duchess could not be more pleased.

“So,” Korkie took a bite of cake, “what’s new in your life, Auntie?”

[sassycherryblossomdetective]

Evidence holds us together

Hello! I hope your well ! 

I’m a massive fan of silent witness and a massive fan of Jack Hodgson. I mean come one how can you not love him XD Like many people, I’ve had a lot of time on my hands so I got bored and just started writing :) 

I present to you a Jack Hodson x OC fanfic. 

This is all a little fun, so if you read enjoy ~ 

Chapter 1

**********************************************************************************************

Snipers Nest   

Part 1

Late nights and wine were both a blessing and a curse.

Especially when work calls you in early.  

From yesterdays conversation with Thomas, Amelia had noticed that he was becoming rather agitated with the idea that she had not finished compiling the evidence for the independent enquiry the Lyell was helping with. 

Of course she had nearly finished it. The key word, nearly. She would get it done. She had about three days to get it done … 

Why sacrifice an episode of Netflix and a glass of wine in the process?  

For some unknown reason her one hour Netflix binge ended up being four and her glass of wine mysteriously became two. Luckily, the idea of letting her team down had pushed her to go to bed. She had decided to be extra vigilant and work a lot harder today, in the end they were depending on her. 

The brunette pushed herself from the table she was leaning against and removed her gaze from the half full bottle of wine, she could do this! Time to get to work! 

She knew that getting up earlier would have solved her problem yet quite frankly at this point she was in no mood to admit it. The idea of going to bed seemed so much more appealing. 

After a little bit of breakfast, which in reality was a couple of biscuits.  Amelia jumped in her car and headed to the Lyell. The drive from her house would take about half an hour or so. She dreaded the idea of getting stuck in traffic as she had promised herself she would grab a coffee on the way. 

While pulling out of a junction, her phone rang. She sighed.  Clicking the Bluetooth button on her wheel she answered. 

“Hello Amelia Rowell speaking” She gave her normal professional greeting as she hadn’t been able to look at the caller I.D. 

“Well good morning sunshine, had your morning coffee yet?” A cheeky voice spoke from the other end of the line. 

Amelia rolled her eyes and suppressed a laugh.

“Jack, its a little early to receive a phone call from you? Don’t tell me you got bored looking at yourself in the mirror?” She bit her lip as she turned a corner. Hopefully that didn’t come across too harsh. Jack let out a scoff.  

“Oh Amy you wound me, she definitely hasn’t had her coffee” Jack snickered to someone, presumably Nikki.

“Don’t laugh Jack, coffee if a basic human right, I’m in no way responsible for my actions without one” Amelia grinned, her grin then dipped “ Why do I feel your going to tell me I’m not going to be able to get one?” 

Amelia slowly approached a red light and came to a halt. Jack hadn’t answered her question. He was silent for a second. 

“Suspected sniper” Jack said seriously. 

“I’m sorry?” Amelia gasp. Almost on impulse she glanced around her area “What do you mean suspected sniper, where? Is there any Other information?” 

“That's all they said, a suspected sniper” 

‘Wow well thats helpful’ Amelia thought to herself.  “Did they mention if the sniper has been caught?” she asked in a rush. 

 “Funny” Jack said in a sarcastic tone “ I said the exact same thing. No, there is no other information. I’ll send you the address, me and Nikki are on route. Thomas said to meet us there”

Amelia nodded to herself and licked her lip. She felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. 

“No problem, see you guys soon” 

Jack hung up. With the light still red she took a breath. 

She may need more than three days to finish working on those files. 

*******************************************************************************************

Amelia pulled up at the service station. As she did she noticed her surroundings. Wide open spaces, almost no cover for the team. The thought of the sniper being out there made her feel uneasy.

“Can I see some I.D please?” 

She flinched, looking to her right an officer had approached her. She had been to0 focused on what wasn’t around to notice. 

Pulling herself together, Amelia nodded politely. She lent down and quickly pulled her I.D from her bag and flashed it to the man. 

 “Amelia Rowell, I’m part of the forensics team from the Lyell” 

The police officer gave her a small smile and stepped away, radioing in  that she had arrived. Noticing Nikki's car, Amelia parked up near by. 

She swiftly got out of her car, noticing the team straight away she made her way towards them. 

“Morning guys” Amelia smiled. Jack and Nikki spun round upon hearing the voice of their friend. Nikki gave her a big smile and a little wave as she approached. Jack rose an eyebrow at her a small smile plastered on his face. “What time do you call this?” 

She narrowed her eyes at him and decided to Ignore his comment, she then smiled at the Detective Inspectors “Hello, I’m Amelia Rowell, apologies I’m a little behind we came from different directions” 

A woman in a back suit, hair tired back into a pony tail, nodded towards her. 

“Hello I’m DCI Jane De Freitas's ” She then referred to the man next to her, looked very tired “This is DS Jim Cloud”

“What have we got?” The forensic scientist asked.

“As I was just mentioning to your team, this man over here is Steven Lakhani” She pointed to a body laying near a silver car a couple of yards ahead of them. The her hand dropped to two females. “ the lady on top in Andrea Lakhani. Both Identified from driving licence and bank cards.” 

The group stated to head towards the bodies, while passing the two women Nikki knelt down inspecting the angles in which they lay. Amelia knelled down next to her. She glanced at the bodies. The women on top was dressed casually, the woman underneath her wore a uniform. She then lifted her head and glanced around the service station. 

‘What a way to go’ she thought, she compressed her lips together as she narrowed her eyes at the open hills just ahead of the station. In all her years working in forensics, even when she worked for the metropolitan police the human race always found a way to disappoint her. 

Nikki looked towards her, almost reading her mind. She looked back at the woman standing. 

“Any idea where they were shot from?” Nikki asked the DCI. 

“Hoping you could help us out there” the DCI replied looking away with a frown “We’ve done a sweep of the area but have found nothing so far” 

‘Well that was comforting’ Amelia thought pushing herself up off the floor. 

Amelia scanned the DCI, she looked as nervous as she felt. Her hands were in her pockets and she swayed from side to side while glancing around. Amelia knew that they were afraid the sniper was still watching them. 

“Lucky all this petrol didn’t go up” Jack said from over where Steve Lakhani’s body was. 

Nikki stood up and walked towards Jack. Amelia stayed behind the her and the DCI as they made their way to the third body. Steven Lakhani lay sprawled out in the ground, gunshot wound to the head. A puddle of petrol was leaked around the area of the body.   

“Witness said his hand stayed clenched to the pump handle after her was shot.” DCI De Freitas said as they came to a standstill. 

“Cadaveric spasm.” Amelia stated. They all looked towards her. “When people die in extreme stress, a muscle group remains contracted giving evidence of their last act of life” 

Nikki knelt down over the body and started to examine it, Jack did the same. Amelia turned back to the body of Andrea Lakhani and the Jane Doe. She made her way to inspect them. Passing the two detectives she heard DS Cloud. 

“Lets get in the warm and let the squints do their work eh?”

“Squints?” Amelia muttered to herself as she shook her head slightly while crouching down. 

God if she had to deal with arseholes like him all day she deserved a medal and a bloody strong coffee.

Amelia began to inspect the uniform of the Jane Doe. She noticed the company name straight away. Poor woman worked at the service station. 

“We’ve got a crime scene to process, Jim” DCI De Freitas kept her tone level. 

“We’re not going to get anything from them except bullets” Cloud replied. 

Amelia rolled her eyes as she lifted a strand of Andrea Lakhani’s hair, she pulled out a pair of tweezers from her work case and used it to place a strand into an evidence bag. 

She would like to see him try and solve this case without them.

“It’s our daily routines that govern the ecology of victimisation-”  DCI De Freitas's continued.  

“Here we go” DS Cloud muttered, crossing his arms and looking away from the woman. 

 The female detective made her way round to stand nearer to Steve Lakhani's body. 

“How did these people elevate their victim status?”

“Well, CCTV, witnesses and daylight make this situationally low-risk for the victim, but high-risk for the killer” Jack said as he stood up, pointing to the CCTV cameras. He walked towards the bodies of the two women. 

“Compulsion over caution usually spells personal”  De Freitas stated while following him.  

“But petrol station isn’t a predictable fixture in someone’s day like a train platform” Jack continued. He came to a stop by Amelia. She looked up at him and the detective. 

“Unless the fixture is your day, because you’re an employee.” She pointed at the Jane Does badge. 

They all leaned down to look at the bodies. 

“Phone?” DCI De Freitas asked. 

“I’ll check inside for personals” Jack said. 

Suddenly there was a loud bang.  Wide eyed, Amelia shot to her feet in fright, almost loosing her balancing in the process. Jack lightly grabbed her shoulder to steady her.  Amelia glanced at him slightly, eyes still wide and mouth slightly agape. She pulled her lips together and gave him a nod. Jack gave her a small smile and looked towards the source of the noise. His hand lingered on her shoulder for a second longer before he pulled it away. 

“For God’s sake!” Cloud shouted.

“CCTV of the shooting should help us find the sniper’s nest” Nikki said while looking down at the two women. She then crouched down to inspect further. 

De Freitas nodded “We are pulling it now”

Jack tapped Nikki on the shoulder and motioned Amelia to follow him as he headed back towards Steve Lakhani’s body. Amelia followed behind them attempting to keep her heartbeat at bay. “The victim with the head wound should help with bullet trajectory” Jack placed his right hand in the air, tracing the direction the bullet would have travelled. 

“The bullet missed the pump and the car which gives us limitations of angles” 

Nikki came to a stop. She kneeled down and pointed to Steve Lakhani’s skull. “Exit would is in the rear of the skull. High velocity splatter here”

“Pitted tarmac where the bullet impacted” Jack responded. 

“Also, skull and brain fragments travelling from the exit wound in the same direction as the bullet. “ Nikki pointed out. 

“So …” Jack summarized 

“How tall is Mr Lakhani ?” Amelia asked, looking over towards Jack “ because I’d say about six foot?”

“Yep!” Jack replied and moved towards the silver car “ He’s standing here. Left hand.” Jack then looked from the body towards the open space in front of him. “Assuming he’s standing at his full height at the moment of impact. The shooters got to be ..” He pointed towards the hill just ahead of the service station,

 “Up there” 

A short time after, Jack headed into the service station to examine the Jane Does belongings. Nikki, along with De Freitas headed to find the snipers nest. 

After collecting as much evidence as she could from around the three bodies, Amelia started to examine the Lakhani’s car. Firstly, she examined the outside. It was clean, a good make. Taking a picture of the number plate she then made her way round to the drivers side and opened the door. Inside was the opposite. Discarded food rappers, a newspaper lay on the floor of the passenger side. A coffee cup in the cup holder. 

Amelia frowned.  The Lakhani’s obviously were in some sort of rush. The litter in the car revealed that. It was clear by the make of the car and the way they dressed that they cared about appearance yet it seemed their focus had shifted. She wondered what sort of situation they would have been in. Shifting her body she looked at the drivers side. It was very much the same. 

Jack slipped into the backseat of the car. 

“What ya found?” He asked. Without looking at him Amelia replied.

“Not much at the moment. So far its very obvious that the Lakhani’s were heading out of town. Food wrappers everywhere, abandoned coffee cup with some coffee still inside and-”

“You looked to see how much coffee was left?” 

Amelia looked up at Jack, he wore a cheeky smile. Amelia’s cheeks grew hot, she was not going to let Jack tease her. 

“It has nothing to so with my coffee addiction, I’m just doing my job.” 

“Just checking its not a cry for help” He winked. 

Amelia rolled her eyes. Attempting to stay professional she asked  “What about you what did you find?” 

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. 

“She had a hand bag in the staff room. From her ID her name was Bertha” He stopped for a moment and looked out towards the service station,  “she had kids and it was her first day here” 

Amelia turned back around and sat for a moment. “That's terrible” Her lips formed a fine line. There was always so much damage. Now these kids wouldn’t have a mum and that was something she knew all too well. “I hope we catch this bastard.” 

Jack looked back to the front of the car. His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward.

He picked up a couple of recipes from the gear box. 

“What do they say?” Amelia asked. 

“There are recipes from this service station, apparently they have been coming here all week” 

He then turned one round to face her. “And it seems you were right, definitely heading out of town” 

Amelia took the receipt from his hand and inspected it in the light.  It was a receipt from a Heathrow parking lot. 

“Interesting” She mused. She turned back to face jack,  “I think we should inform Nikki”

Amelia was still inspecting the car when Jack returned with the team.

“How do you know?” she DCI  De Freitas ask as the team walked round the back of the car. 

“Amy and I found receipts for petrol, snacks, flowers and coffee” 

As they came to a halt, Amelia stepped back out of the car. “Yesterday they came here twice. - at 11:34 and 17:53” 

DCI De Freitas came to stand behind Amelia, she reluctantly moved out the way to let her have a look inside the vehicle. She took a step back and walked to the front of the car. Jack began to explain to everyone what they had found. 

She rolled her neck. Man she was tired. Hungry as well, quiet frankly she really didn’t want there to be a bloody sniper on the loosing. The brunette still was wary, the open space was making her anxious. Not that she would display her anxiety though as that would be very unprofessional. 

“Dr Alexander ?” 

Amelia turned back to face the group. In her hands, Nikki held a paper crane.

“That err.. That chimes with my first examination of the bodies. Steven Lakhani, unshaven, untrimmed nails, greasy hair and some body odour.  Andrea Lakhani looks under weight, no make up, traces of a manicure but its not recent and the same with her hair”

“I think something went wrong for the couple before they were killed” Jack stated while leaning against the top of the car. 

“Oh yeah?” Cloud challenged. 

 “Yeah” Amelia interrupted in a serious tone, she approached DS Cloud slowly sizing him up. The man looked bored. Very interested in leaving. He seemed to have no respect for the gathering of ideas and evidence. 

“They had a house five miles away, but they chose to stay in a hotel by the airport”   

DS Cloud broke eye contact and looked away from her. 

She really did not like this man. 

“You’ve got to ask, why couldn’t they go home?” she inquired. Cloud continued to look disinterested in her hypothesis. She felt her two colleagues watching her intently. It was rare for her to become so riled up so quickly. 

A woman, short hair, pale skin approached the group. “Mam, the Chief commissioner wants an update” 

As the DCI walked off to talk to, who Amelia could only assume was the chief commissioner, she turned and walked towards the woman standing near her. She took a breath. 

“Hello, my names Amelia Rowell” she smiled at the woman who seemed surprised by her interaction. 

“Gabby” she said, “Nice to meet you Amelia” She gave Amelia a small smile and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“This is going to be a hassle for the higher ups right?” Amelia attempted to lighten the mood. 

“You have no idea” Gabby replied shaking her head slightly. “Talking of higher ups” 

A man approached them and began talking Gabby.  Amelia saw this as her time to leave. 

She looked at her watch. 9:35am. Time to pack up some evidence! 

She walked over to the car, joining Nikki and Jack. 

“Bag this all up and process it more at the Lyell” Nikki said She stopped as Amelia approached. Turning to her she joked “Cloud pressing your buttons much?” 

Amelia gave her an awkward smile. “Obvious much?” 

“Its not like you to be so fiery” Jack said raising his eyebrow at her. 

“Yeah” Nikki agreed “Are you feeling aright?” 

Amelia thought for a second, looking away. “Just a little peachy today.” She looked back at them and smiled “You know me, I’m fine”

Jack watched her for a second, obviously not expecting that type of answer. Nikki gave her a small smile and a nodded. Before she could respond, her phone rang. 

“Thomas?” Nikki smiled, it faltered for a second and her tone became more serious. “Okay, I’ll let them know” 

“What's wrong?” Amy asked. She crossed her arms and watched Nikki put  the phone down from her ears hesitantly. She had her suspicions and really did not what to be right. Nikki looked at her with a grim expression. 

“There may have been another shooting”

*******************************************************************************************

The day ticked on from there. Nikki, Thomas and Jack went to investigate the second shooting. Amelia headed back to the Lyell. She had a lot of logging to do. Not just for this new sniper case but for her independent work as well. She strolled in. 

“Morning Clarissa, how's my favourite lady?” 

“Good morning Amelia” Clarissa sung back. “I’m just preparing the space for the bodies, is it true? Sniper on the loose?” 

Amelia stopped at her desk “ We don’t really know much. Three people dead, suspected forth” 

“Confirmed forth”

“What seriously!” Amelia gaped. 

“Nikki confirmed it, you guys have to be careful” 

“We’ve got to get him Clarissa” Amelia mumbled. 

“We will Amelia, we will”   

 File after file, Amelia made her way categorising every piece of evidence she had. She has received an email from Thomas, it contained all the pictures new crime scene. A women probably around the same age as her had been shot in the side of the head.

 A large coffee cup was placed directly in front of her. For a second she just stared at the coffee. Then looked up at Jack with a blank expression. Amelia hadn’t even noticed the team coming in. She narrowed her eyes slightly and cautiously took the coffee from his hands. She brought the cup to her lips and took a sip. ‘Oh my word’ 

Her face lit up. “Caramel!” 

Jack smiled. “Of course, what else” 

This day had definitely got ten times better. 

“Thanks Jack you are actually a life saver!” 

As he walked away to his desk he laughed and said “I know Amy, I know. What would you do without me?” 

Amelia smiled to herself.  She really didn’t know. 

Later Clarissa had the results on the ballistics. Everyone huddled around her desk. 

“Bullet from the tree is a 308 ball round, the snipers ammo of choice. Easy to shoot. Superior terminal ballistics. Predictable trajectory, even in high winds”

“Any trace?” Gabby asked.

“Negative for prints” Clarissa shook her head, “I’ve swabbed for DNA, but I doubt it’d survive with the heat of the firing and impact”

“What kind of range are we talking?” 

“If you know what your doing, you can score reliable hits, from up to eight hundred metres in all but the most extreme weather conditions” Clarissa continued. 

“And if you just want to hit anything?” Gabby frowned. 

“There have been documented fatalities at well over one thousand metres with this bullet” 

Wonderful... 

After six hours of typing she was done. Done! She had finished. Everything was were everything needed to be. Amelia glanced at everyone in the office. Clarissa was hard at work typing away, Thomas was in his office on the phone, Jack looked very focused looking up whatever he was looking up. 

They were getting somewhere. This sniper would be found. Yet, she was sure the sniper wasn’t finished. 

She watched Thomas stand up from his chair, that uneasy feeling greeted her again. 

“There's been another shooting” 

Immediately everyone started moving, Jack ran to get Nikki. Clarissa began making phone calls. Amelia grabbed her coat from her chair and caught Thomas’s eye. 

“No” 

Amelia looked at Thomas sharply. “What?” 

“I need you to look into something for me” 

“But surely this is more important Thomas?”

Amelia crossed her arms over her chest. 

 “Fine” she said sharply. She sat back down at her desk. It seemed the independent inquiry was more pressing then she first assumed. 

“Is everything okay?” Nikki asked suddenly. 

“Yes everything is fine” Thomas said while “Amelia, I’ve emailed you the extra information” 

And with that they were gone.

[embeanwrites]

Finding Home Gavin Reed x Reader

Ch 27

Masterlist

I was sitting at the front of the lecture hall with my laptop grading the end of the semester presentations. Part of me regretted not doing a one and done scantron to make my life easier, but the students brought a lot of interesting topics that made it all feel worth it. One student went into detail about the Jericho raid and talked about the legality of it, which I had been toying with mentioning in my book. It was interesting to see another side of the conversation. 

Most of the students had decided on doing a presentation rather than a paper and a few students even went with ideas that are way outside of the box. One student had made a short comic book depicting different events that had happened in Detroit with the sociological theory and explanation of the theory. It was easily one of the coolest projects in the bunch and luckily the student is letting me keep it. I plan to scan it and use it next semester, giving the student credit of course. It was clear some students half-assed their projects, but way less did than I expected which I consider a plus since this was my first real course and I knew from experience students tended to take advantage of first-year teachers’ inexperience.  

After the final presentation was done I noticed we still had ten minutes left, perfect to say goodbye to my class. It was hard to believe how fast time had gone by, but with one semester done I couldn’t wait to teach this class again with what I’ve learned this first time. Hopefully, with time the school would assign me some different courses. 

“Well, everyone, it's been amazing being your professor. This class was so fun to teach and I enjoy everyone’s questions and participation. I truly hope you’ve learned something about android and human relationships and the complexity that goes with it, even moving forward. This class has a lot of information I hope you can apply to your everyday life.

“I appreciate all the feedback I got and I’m sorry that we didn’t have a guest speaker this semester, things just got too crazy in the middle, but hopefully that will be different next semester and I will see what I can do about giving you all the opportunity to sit in on the class that day. 

“All of your projects were truly amazing. I was blown away by not only the creativity but the quality of them. I wish you all the best of luck on the remainder of your finals and I hope to see you all around campus. Please feel free to stop by my office anytime you need someone to talk to or have a question.” 

I smiled and waved to the students as they left. Some stopped to say goodbye, but many just went ahead and left. Which was fine, I remember finals week in undergrad. What a nightmare of a time. It felt good being done and now I had four weeks to prepare and relax for next semester. Four weeks to also settle into Gavin’s house. I was also almost fully done packing and Gavin, Connor, and Tina were helping me move my stuff over in three days. I was excited to say goodbye to that sad apartment. I just assumed I would live there until my contract expired and move on with my life. Now I was happy I had barely unpacked, less to pack now. 

As everyone filed out I gathered my stuff and put on my coat. I was meeting Gavin at the precinct, he was taking the afternoon off so we could go shopping for some new furniture and decor for the house. 

I decided to walk to the precinct since it wasn’t that long of a walk and for early December it wasn’t too bad out. I knew if I got sick I would never hear the end of it from Gavin and Nines about the importance of staying out of the cold. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, but it was sunny out, and not a lot of wind. It was relaxing to see the city so peaceful. It was almost the first anniversary of the android revolution, I needed to talk to dad and Gavin to see if we could do something special for Connor and Nines. To think one year ago many people were fleeing Detroit and the streets were on complete lockdown due to peaceful protesting. I looked over to see an abandoned Cyberlife store, I thought about asking Elijah about their plans for the remaining stores. With no clear laws, Cyberlife was in a major gray area, currently, they were only allowed to give spare parts directly to androids for free. 

Sighing, I walked into the precinct and gave a small wave to the receptionist. At this point, they all knew who I was and I didn’t have to check-in. Walking into the bullpen the first thing I noticed was that Gavin was in Fowler’s office, so I walked over to dad’s and Connor’s desks. I gave my dad a pat on the shoulder as I moved to jump up on Connor’s desk since my dad’s was too messy to sit on. 

“How was your last day of class?” Connor asked, leaning back in his chair. His LED was a calm blue. I smiled at him and noted the calm feeling around the two of them. Desk duty was clearly doing dad some good, even though both of them were eager to get back in the field. Connor had made that very apparent when he took Sumo out for a walk, that turned more into a run.

“It was really good. I’ll have to show you some of the projects I got. I think you’ll find them interesting. Maybe you could even pass them on to Markus, there’s one in particular that I think he’ll like. The student included a lot of artwork.” I hummed and looked up at Fowler’s office. From where I was sitting I could tell Gavin was frustrated, his fist were clenched and his body language was stiff. 

“Markus would definitely enjoy that. I’ll contact him to see when he’s free. I know he’s been busy with negotiations still.” 

“It’s been almost a year. I wish the government would work with them instead of stalling. Warren is just trying to stay neutral to keep her approval ratings decent.” Connor nodded in agreement. Androids were still not allowed to vote, so Warren didn’t have to worry about their votes. Hopefully, Markus would be able to change that soon. Androids should be able to vote in their own representatives. Snapping out of my thoughts that were meant more for a paper and less for small talk I shook my head and looked over to Fowler’s office. “What’s Gavin doing in Fowler’s office?” 

“End of the year evaluations.” My dad answered. I nodded and glanced over to where Nines was sitting. He was facing Fowler’s office and watching the two men talk, from his expression and Gavin’s it didn’t seem to be going well. I wondered for a moment if Nines was able to hear them and if he could, could Connor? “Are you two going furniture shopping?” 

“Furniture and just house stuff.” I pulled my legs up and moved to face my dad, sitting criss-cross applesauce. 

“You two are pretty serious, huh?” He asked, I couldn’t help but smile and nod. “It’s nice seeing you both happy.” 

“Thank you. I know it’s been hard to get used to us being together, but I appreciate it.” I looked back towards the office and saw Gavin shaking Fowler’s hand and heading out. We made eye contact and he grimaced. “Alright, I’ll see you two later!” I said my goodbyes to dad and Connor and walked over to Gavin’s desk. He was quickly packing up his stuff and avoiding eye contact with me and Nines. “Hey, you okay?” I whispered. He shook his head as he swung a backpack over his shoulder. 

“Let’s just get out of here.” I nodded and grabbed his hand. Gavin led me out of the precinct and towards his car in silence. Occasionally I squeezed his hand, hoping to offer some reassurance. 

We both got into the car, but Gavin made no move to start his car, instead he leaned forward and laid his head on the steering wheel. I watched him take a few deep breaths and I moved to rub his back. 

“Do you-”

“I didn’t get the promotion.” Gavin interrupted me, keeping his head down. I could feel him tense up under my hand. 

“Gav, it’s ok-”

“It’s not okay!” He shouted, his head shot up as he smacked the steering wheel with both hands, the loudness stunning me for a moment. I moved my hand from his back to his shoulder, attempting to keep him grounded in the moment. “I worked so fucking hard for this. I work my ass off. I’m constantly working on cases even outside of work and the thanks I get is ‘be better!’ What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?” Gavin was seething but keeping his eyes forward. He hit the steering wheel again, hitting the horn on accident. “Fuck.” He whispered hoarsely, looking over to me. He looked exhausted and his eyes were glassy. 

“Hey,” I whispered, cupping his face with both of my hands. I gently pulled him closer and kissed his forehead. “I don’t care what Fowler says. You are a kick-ass detective, you’re smart, you’re dedicated to your job, and I love you. Just because you didn't get the promotion today doesn’t mean you won’t ever get it. Go in tomorrow and prove him wrong every day until he understands that you are the right man for the job.” Gavin sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into my touch. 

“I-I know we’re supposed to go shopping-” He stuttered. 

“Let’s head home, we can shop another day. Nothing we had planned today is urgent.” I kissed him gently and I felt him release a sigh of relief. He gently pulled back to start the car. I buckled my seat belt as we headed back to the house. 

The drive was quiet, neither of us made a move to turn on the radio. I closed my eyes and laid my head against the window, listening to Gavin drum his fingers to a beat inside his head on the dashboard. Gavin really deserved that promotion. There were more times I could count where I would wake up around 3 am and find Gavin still working on a case. He was dedicated to his job and he dedicated himself to every case he had. 

Pulling into the driveway, we both made our way into the house and immediately plopped down on the couch. Gavin put his head in my lap and closed his eyes. I started running my hands gently through his hair, feeling the tension leave his body. He made no attempt to move or talk, so I started humming softly. 

“Thank you.” He murmured. 

“Of course, Gav.” I gently moved one of my hands to sit on top of one of his which was on his chest. He intertwined our fingers almost immediately. 

“You’re so good for me.” He said, his eyes were still closed so he didn’t see my smile. 

“You deserve good, Gav,” I whispered, quickly resuming my humming and attempting to comfort him. “Hey, have you thought about asking my dad for a letter of recommendation or for him to talk to Fowler?” Gavin let out a sigh. 

“I feel like that’s wrong.” He whispered.

“Why?” 

“Because we’re dating, he’d feel like he’d have to.” He opened his eyes and looked up at me. He looked so exhausted, the bags under his eyes were purple. I gently ran my thumb across his eyebrow. 

“My dad would say no if he didn’t think you were right for the job, Gavin. Maybe just ask him what more you could do? He’s not putting in a good word for you, he’s just giving you advice. You shouldn’t feel bad about that.” I said softly, he closed his eyes and sighed. 

“Maybe.” He mumbled. “I’m sorry we didn’t go to the store.” 

“Don’t be. We can go some other time. There’s nothing on our list that’s urgent and even if there was you are more important than anything on that list.” I leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course.” 

After about half an hour of Gavin laying in my lap, he left to take a shower while I made something low effort for us to eat. We spent the rest of the day just lounging about and cuddling. Even the cats ended up snuggling into both of us. Nines would be very disappointed in our food choices and lack of doing anything productive, but it really seemed to help Gavin. Which at the end of the day, was all that mattered to me.

[themissingmarvel]

Kind Regards, Detective [Part 6]

(So, forgive me for this both: being long, and not having a lot of Loki in it. I understand if this chapter turns people off or doesn’t get a lot of love. I won’t be hurt by it. But it needed to be done. So hopefully I don’t lose readers but if I do, like I said, I understand.

Catch up:  [Part 1] // [Part 2] // [Drabble] // [Part 3] // [Part 4] // [Drabble 2] // [Part 5]

Pairing: Detective Loki x fbi!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k [yikes]

Warnings: Language. Poor life choices. )

Back when Y/N was in undergrad, she remembered one of her classmates affectionately telling her she was afflicted with what was known as “resting bitch face”. She became known as the Queen of the RBF within her circles, and honestly it remained with her. But it was protective, and in times like this, when a precinct was staring at you, you had to protect yourself.

One of the things that would come up was a conflict of interest, she knew that immediately. Her supervising agent would be concerned about a package sent directly to her. No one would know the depth of it, though. They’d know it was in reference to her sister’s passing, but the song? The CD itself? She could lie. And she would. Even when her phone rang and she ignored it, she kept her face stoic and her eyes locked on the computer, scanning over the evidence collected from the scene still.

“Agent Y/N, there’s a call for you from the bureau-” a young officer, though not a rookie, popped his head in.

She didn’t even look up, “That’s cool.”

Loki glanced from her to the officer who looked more confused than anything. Clearly that was not the answer he was hoping for.

“I mean, they want to talk to you.” He suddenly got quieter. Meeker.

Again, she didn’t even pause, “Nice of them. I’ll send them a thank-you card later.”

Now the officer was confused, “Did you want to answer it out front or I can-”

“Tell them I’m dead. Or I’m in the bathroom. Whatever. I’m busy so please don’t come in again.” Her eyes glanced briefly from the screen to the man who got the hint, his mouth in a straight line as he backed out of the room, entirely missing David Loki’s very soft smirk.

But she was. Busy, that was. Not dead. She had found a few interesting leads, and was suddenly finding a rather disturbing pattern, “David, c’mere a sec. I need you to look at this and tell me I’m not crazy,” she looked across the table at the man who’d been poring over the papers and pictures, hating to look at bodies but knowing now was not the time to be squeemish. He thought his note was bad… hers was tenfold. Whatever it was. He didn’t know about her sister. Or any of her life, really. He knew what she had shared. He was vaguely terrified that this would stop all of it.

Standing, he walked over to where she was, a spreadsheet open, “So look,” she held up a finger, glancing back to the man who was leaning over, face by hers as he looked at the screen, the moment intense, though far from intimate, “if we follow the purchases, the television is old but beyond state-of-the-art, telling us it was pricy. And you don’t leave pricy things behind, especially if you think you can be traced. And when we tracked the generator down, it was from a different manufacturing company, so both were dismissed out of hand. But when we add in the piece about the phone company provider and the chemical weapon used… Look.”

She brought up a page of a very formal looking website, Safety in the palm of your hand was the caption under the large “West Company” logo in block letters at the top. David knew of them, but clearly Y/N knew more, “The company does a lot of work with technology and weapon engineering. The federal government has a contract with them, so we’ve worked with them before. David, they even have a lab on site…”

He stood back, looking down at her with focus and concern. Without the chemical agent to go off of, the connection might be a reach. But the fact that it all tied to one company, and one that would have direct links to technology to reach into… anything, meant it was a good chance that the person they needed would be there.

“So what do we do with this? I mean, that’s a huge company. And with a defense contract, they’re probably not gonna wanna talk to you,” David crossed his arms in front of his chest, concern on his features. She was a bloodhound who had finally picked up a scent and he had a sinking feeling she’d chase that scent, regardless of what came in her way.

Nodding, she closed the laptop, “Normally that’d be true, but I may have a way into the company records. I can’t divulge why. I just need you to trust me.” Her eyes were wide. And pleading. She had just been hit with a wrecking ball and already she was back on her feet, but David knew she was hurting. And pain made you do stupid things. But she was slowly becoming his weak spot.

Pushing back his hair he sighed, “Fine. What do we do next?”

Standing up and grabbing her phone that had more missed calls than she could reasonably get away with, she shrugged, “We don’t do anything. I make a call, and you keep going over evidence. I have to go back and grab something at the hotel. I left a file back there we’ll need to keep moving forward on this.”

There was something in her voice, her tone perhaps, or her body language. David would blame himself later, as he always did, for not noticing. He’d tell himself it was his fault. He should have known she wasn’t going to the hotel, or at least that wasn’t her final stop. And as she walked outside without her federal issued phone, only her keys and wallet in hand as she held her jacket tight, she understood what had to happen.

_____

She wasn’t lying. Not completely. She had gone to the hotel and grabbed her personal phone, the one she used for calling her parents, listening to music, listening to audiobooks when she was stuck on airplanes, or in this case, long car drives alone. But her first call had been, surprising to most, to Henry Best. The man was one of the top CEO and board members of West Company and one she knew better than most. It was the way she had into the company.

Henry had been surprised to hear her voice, though not disappointed. He had liked Y/N when he met her four years back, when she had just begun her profiling in the field. Back when she was still wet behind the ears, so to speak. And that she was calling on her personal phone made him even more curious, “Of course. Around when should I expect you?” His voice, smooth as silk with a ‘proper’ British accent, a voice that could melt a woman without effort, came forth.

Glancing at the dashboard of her car, Y/N shrugged, “GPS says it’s another hour. So around 3pm, if that’s all right? Honestly, I hate to barge in like this. And I know you’re doing more than a favor. Especially since the FBI doesn’t even know-”

There was a soft chuckle, the man on the other end smiling, “Please don’t apologize. It would be my pleasure to see you again. After all, it is you I have to thank for where I am now, is it not?” A genuine kind of thanks to his voice, though something else lingered. Perhaps not strong enough for the bluetooth in the car to detect.

Either way, she felt herself smiling as she eyed the guidance system, “That was all your own work, Henry. But we can talk more when I get there. Do I check in at the front desk?” She was adjusting herself in her seat, suddenly a little nervous. She really hadn’t thought this through. And she was still wearing… well, a sweater and jeans. And her hair wasn’t well done, either. Fuck, she really did not think this through.

“I’ll have someone waiting out front to valet the car, don’t worry about parking. Mark will bring you up. Take your time.” He was calm. Cool. Collected. More than he had been before. It was kind of nice.

She nodded, to no one in particular, “Will do. See you in an hour, Henry.” She clicked off the phone, continuing her drive.

Her phone rang again, though this time the number came up as Delete This Later, “Madison is on a rampage. And now I have some podunk Detective Loki- Hey, what kind of name is that even? Whatever, anyway, this dude is calling me wanting to know where you are. I made some shit up about you needing to coordinate with another office. I still have Madison on a rampage, though. He’s your boss. Remember him?”

Rolling her eyes, she was already regretting giving Adrian her personal number, “Thank you for covering. I’m actually headed to see Henry Best. Over at West Company. Who knew my name was so memorable?” She smirked.

Adrian huffed, “Just don’t do anything stupid. Well, more stupid than you already have. Wits about, right?”

She cocked a sideways smirk, “Always. And you know the deal. Call David at 3pm, when I’m due in New York to meet with Henry. I’ll text you the address. And you can give him this number. Otherwise the guy will have a heart attack,” she sighed softly.

There was quiet for a moment before Adrian spoke again, “What did he send you, Ladybug? That guy. I haven’t seen you like this since the Boston case when you almost bumped into the dude we were after. I’m worried.”

But she was quiet. Too quiet.

“Nothing’s gonna happen. I just have a feeling Henry will be able to help.”

___

He had called her. He had called her twice before realizing the ringing was coming from inside her bag. He had thrown his own phone across the room, though one cased in an Otterbox after the officer manager was tired of him breaking phones. Instead, it bounced off and hit the ground. He had wanted to break something. Fucking anything.

It was a flurry of words after that, David having rolled his sleeves up, his hair repeatedly needing to be slicked back as his face looked vaguely similar to John Wick finding his dog dead. He kept telling himself he was angry because she was in harm’s way, and that was true, but there was something more. This woman he had felt vulnerable with, who had in turn shared her own vulnerabilities, was gone. And he knew that she was gone because she was chasing something that not even God himself could stop her from getting. She was on a mission.

David was a driven man just as much, however, and he had gotten through to Y/N’s unit by sheer force of will on the phone. He had kept it together enough that he was actually able to get through to someone named “Adrian Dent” who worked closely with her. The one who had texted her ‘ladybug’ and he didn’t like it. He didn’t like Adrian. No idea why, but when the smug asshole gave him a regurgitated message about her meeting with another agent in another city, he understood it was a lie.

But what else did he have? He was sitting by himself in the conference room they were using, staring at a laptop that had the company name on it. And he knew. He didn’t know exactly, but he knew. And fuck waiting. Fuck telling his chief. Fuck all of it. He was headed to New York City just the same as she was. ____

It had been strange, walking into the large, sleek office building. The floors were marble and the colors back and silver were clearly the aesthetic. She had trailed behind a young man who looked to be no older than twenty-two, probably scored this gig right out of a prestigious college, wanting to work his way into the defense industry. What a strange goal. No stranger, perhaps, than wanting to be an FBI Field Agent.

He was quiet as he lead her up, his earpiece wired in as they took a private elevator to the… damn, fiftieth floor? Last time she could have sworn it was forty. But that was four years ago.

Stepping off the elevator that looked like something out of Blade Runner, she followed the assistant carefully down the hall, carpeted in black with dark wood lining it. Far fewer people here. And it was clear, by the large double doors ahead, that this was where she was going, “Mr. Best is inside, you may enter.” He looked almost smug. She didn’t belong. He knew it. She knew it.

Shrugging off her winter jacket, she knocked on the door, heading the rather gentle, “Please, come in,” beckoning her forth.

It had been four years since she saw him, but Henry looked amazing. He had before but… there was something else now. His dark blonde hair was styled on his head, not slicked down but a certain casual and professional look to it. He had on a white business shirt, black tie tight around his neck though with his sleeves rolled up. And he, of course, was gorgeous. Blue eyes that felt like they could stop you in your tracks, angular features that made him all the more distinguished. He looked good.

And the office was amazing. An entire wall was purely windows, looking out at the impressive New York City skyline. It was like being in a movie. Her entire life she had never existed in a world like this, and now she was investigating a serial killer in an office that looked so extraordinary it hurt. Book shelves, a large desk by the back where he had been standing, oak, of course. He smiled, a sort of crooked smile that, were she paying attention, would have concerned her more. But he was smiling as he walked over, “Oh, please, let me take that. Shouldn’t have you lugging this around,” he smiled as he got close, taking the jacket from her hands, draping it over a chair nearby.

Nervous, suddenly, she pushed back her hair, “Thank you… and sorry about not being dressed for the occasion… Like I said, kind of a rush deal getting here,” she laughed nervously, fidgeting.

“Nonsense. You look wonderful, if I may say so. Would you care to take a seat? I wager you’ve just driven a bit of a ways, so I’ll understand if you’d like to stand.” There was care in his voice and tone, and suddenly she was struck by how strange it was. She tended to trust her gut, and suddenly it was telling her to be aware.

Smiling with her placating, plastic smile, she shook her head, “I’m happy to sit.”

He looked satisfied with the answer, gesturing to the table in the corner, two cups and a teapot on it, “Please, take a seat. May I offer you some tea?” He sat across from her, his movements graceful and purposeful, and perhaps almost serpent-like.

She held up a hand, “No thank you. Long drive back, don’t want to have to make pit stops,” she smiled at the man who looked… content. Relaxed. Hardly what she remembered before.

He was pouring himself a cup, Y/N looking around as she noticed a plant on his desk. Well, one. And flowers on his window. Gorgeous lilies. And orchids. Succulents were on two shelves of the book cases. She couldn’t help but smile, “Quite a lot of greenery around your office, Henry.”

Taking a sip of the tea, he smiled, “After we spoke those years ago, I took you up on your suggestion. I began gardening. Took a month off, worked on myself, and began gardening. Hobbies really are a lifesaver, aren’t they?” He was watching her now, able to see that brief moment of her eyes widening, ever so slightly, her breath catching in her throat. He could see her wheels turning. But she was no mere rabbit. Fear was not something that drove her.

And true, in her own mind she was rationalizing it, “I’m glad it seemed to work for you. Having a hobby like that can be therapeutic. And it seems like our meetings got you back on track. How have things been now?”

Of course, she was referring to the incident that had lead her to his office years ago. He had lost his wife in a rather tragic car accident. From what he had told the police, they had gotten into a fight, and before he could stop her, she had gotten her keys and driven off. She’d wound up running a red light at a major intersection and was killed on impact.

Something was clicking, now. His face changed every so slightly when she asked how things had been. Hobbies. Not just gardening. And now she was poking at the wound.

He nodded, quite like the gentleman he was, “Much better. Work has been consuming much of my time. I imagine you’re in a similar boat. I always sensed we were quite alike in that way,” he placed the tea back down and smiled at her.

There was a feeling of anger that came with the comment, though she was unsure why. It wasn't rude in any way, nor did it infer anything negative about her. But it felt personal.

“Speaking of work… I’m here because I think I have a lead on my case. And not to be an alarmist, I’m somewhat concerned they’re linked with your company somehow,” she eyed him carefully.

He looked out the window with a bit of a chuckle, “We have quite a few employees, you know. Do you have anything more to go off of? I’d love to help you, but that’s quite a broad brush to be painting with, Y/N,” his smile was daring this time. He was playing with her. What may not have been personal now was. But he was fishing, too. He wanted to see what she had. If she’d divulge.

She was many things in this world. Stupid was not on that list.

“If you could set me up with someone in human resources, I might be able to go over a filter given some of the profiles I have set up. Think you could make an exception for me?” She forced a smile, hoping, perhaps, she was wrong about that feeling in her gut. The feeling that was screaming at her, louder now, telling her to get out of the building. To find her car. But he had that, didn’t he? He had insisted he park it for her. Insisted he take her up through the private elevator. And she had complied.

Maybe she was wrong.

“Were I a different man, I might argue against it. But you’ve done quite a bit for me, Y/N, more than you know. You helped me realize my potential in those meetings. The kind of man I could be. And so of course, Agent Y/L/N, I would be more than honored to help. After what you’ve done for me. Truly, it stayed with me.” He smiled. And he was being honest. Sincere. She had made an impact in his life that had changed the entire course of his world. He had gone from a man on the brink of losing his life to drugs and alcohol over the loss of his true love, to a man who had channeled his grief into something else. He understood what it meant to lose.

A feeling of relief washed over her and she smiled, more sincere this time, “That’s really kind of you. And if it means anything, I always knew you’d come back from it. It’s why I recommended the board keep you on. We all have choices in life, I’m glad you made yours.”

A small ‘chirp’ came from the digital watch on the man’s wrist, looking down as he grimaced slightly, “Seems I’ve had an unfortunate emergency arise. I’ve got your number, so I’ll be sure to give you a call when I can locate someone in HR who can work remotely. Wouldn’t want you taking the trek back and forth from Conyers again, would we? You said over the phone the Detective you’re working with is stationed there as well,” He smiled as he stood, the agent doing the same.

He handed her the jacket she’d come in with, walking her to the door. And for a moment, she knew she could walk out and it would be the end of it. Her gut would stop screaming at her, now from the top of its lungs, and maybe she could get out unscathed. She could simply walk to the elevator and find a way to do things on her terms. She knew, deep down, that she could walk out the door confident in her own beliefs and he would be confident that she had only the brief terror that prey does when suspecting a predator nearby.

Instead, she turned as she walked out the door, her eyes locking onto his, “I meant to ask, you have so many different plants and flowers, do you have any favorites? I’m a lavender woman, myself,” she smiled strongly, forcing herself to speak now as she felt the rest of herself coming undone.

And he smiled. The smile that would seal in every fear she had, every terror that she would feel, every nightmare that would haunt her, and she knew that look in his eyes with that smile as he spoke, “Oh, my dear, it’s roses I love best. Give my kindest regards to Detective Loki, won’t you?”

It took every ounce of strength she had to stay standing as he closed the door with the look of a man she had seen once. The man who had fallen apart but was wearing the mask of something else. She understood his comment, now. Two sides of the same coin. Two people shaped by tragedy. Two lives changed in a moment. And a grin on his face that felt like a bullet to her chest.

Kind Regards indeed.

Fuck.

(Tagging: @escapingthoughtsandsecrets​ @is-it-madness​ @detecellie​ @doritosandavocados​ @oscarflysaac​ @peccobagnaia​ @fgtakbrjbdl​ @miss-missing-patd​ send me a message to be added/removed)

[queensdivas]

Peonies Chapter 2

Okay so this is a long chapter and we’re finally getting into more Chiara x Grigor. No it’s not what you think but I know you’ll be enjoying what I’ve written hopefully. Don’t worry there will be 

Also. For those who read my other stories. Those who are not aware Chapter Four of Wildest Notes (The Gardner one) has been uploaded. For those who are curious. 

Next Chapter

Masterlist 

Previous Chapter 

Life of a Duchess consists of balls, tea parties, making under the table deals for the country, and then an occasional outing. Life for me..it is..well.. Different. Obviously. I mean I dropped everything to now help Catherine stage a Coup against her own husband. But I’m still trying to manage my habits so I don’t lose them, even all the way out here. 

My morning always begins at seven a.m. Fernanda is to come into the rooms and open the curtains whether the sunshine is glaring into my room or it’s a cloudy day. Then after waking up I’m treated to a warm breakfast. Honestly I’m not quite sure what exactly is a Russian breakfast because I’ve never had it. 

Fernanda came into the bedroom as I was rubbing my eyes to adjust to the light. Doing a few neck stretches then plopping my arms and my legs as my hair fell in my face. To think only a few nights ago we were burying heads in the dirt and now we’re writing drafts on some sort of constitution. She placed the breakfast tray right in front of me then revealed breakfast. What looked like porridge that had raspberries on top of them, some bacon and dumplings? 

“What is this?” Crossing my legs as I lifted one of the dumplings to my nose. Smelled very sweet for a dumpling. 

“They call it vareniki I think. It’s a dumpling and they tasted good when we had them for dinner last night. I promise I wouldn’t let them serve you anything you wouldn’t like.” She stood next to me as I handed her one of the raspberries from on top of the porridge. 

“Is Catherine awake yet by chance?” Asking her as she finished the raspberry. 

“I’m not quite sure. I can go check for you.” 

“It's not too urgent yet. I just need to know when she’s wanting to have our meetings. If you happen to see her maid, send her my way. Oh! I need a sabre coach if you could keep an eye on Hernán. He’s coming sometime today and I would rather him see a familiar face than one of the ladies.” She nodded as I took my spoon into the porridge. Eh. It’s alright. Makes me miss the cooking of Chef Columbus. 

After breakfast I am to get dressed for the day which is usually my black pants, my brown and black boots, and my white button up shirt. Makes the life of Fernanda and I extremely simple because there’s no buttons or corsets. In addition. It’s either braided hairstyles or just flopping down due to the fact those big hairstyles hurt my head. 

“She’s awake and already has some sort of Count in her chambers.” Fernanda told me as I finished placing my hair in a braid. I then grabbed my cross necklace as I stared into the vanity mirror before me. 

The words of Catherine talking about Grigor after the funeral keep bouncing around in my head. If he’s an advisor he must have some sort of genius inside his head. But when you’re supposed to be an advisor or friends with someone like Peter, you lose sight of what your potential is. He is quite loyal for starters and he studied alongside Peter the Great from what I’ve been told. So..there was so much potential that is in Grigor..just needs to be pushed. Extremely hard. But don’t think I’ve pushed aside his little comment on my first night here. 

He is extremely attractive..I mean he’s tall, has beautiful green forest of eyes..maybe this is just sexual tension. I mean me having some sort of dream last night about him is sexual desire then I’m guilty. Even if I want to slap him across the face due to the comment from last night. Grigor is definitely one I would have molded into clay to have in my room. 

I’ll figure him out later. Getting up from the bench as I began twirling the cross for my walk towards Catherines apartment. If I knew we were going to stage a coup I would’ve brought my books and a trunk full of papers and pens. 

When I made it to the entrance of the apartment. The young man was standing at the entrance as I smiled at him. 

“Duchess Chiara to see Empress Catherine.” Smiling at him as they opened the door as I was led into her apartment. 

“Catherine! Coming in!” I yelled as she was sitting on the floor as she was talking with Count Orlov. Did she finally convince him? I’m going to assume so because the amount of pamphlets and books that were scattered around the room means they’re trying to start a draft of something.  

“Ah Count Orlov. Do you remember my cousin Duchess Chiara?” Waving to him as I noticed she was barefoot. Genius Catherine. Slipping off my boots as I tiptoed across her pamphlets to sit down across from her. 

“Does she?” He was going to ask the question but I nodded. Alright let me see what she’s got scattered across in her room. Dierdot, Kant, and even some Plato. Wow. We’re really trying to do a book club/Coup. Not that I don’t find the words of Plato interesting but...what person is wanting to listen to Plato when trying to change a country? 

“Ah yes. So I’ve written a 74 page treatise that should really get the people behind us on your ideals.” 

“74 pages?” Asking him as I was in shook. A little over stepping it wouldn’t you say? Do they not realize this is for the people and anything over at least two pages will make them lose interest. 

“I thought perhaps some Montaigne.” 

“I got stuck on Machiavelli. Read in the French translation he says the ends justify the means. But in the original Italian he merely asks..” Marial dropped the entire tray of tea cups as we all looked up at her. 

“Oh sorry. I was holding..holding that tray...and then I fell asleep listening to you both! Is this a coup or a fucking book club?” 

“She’s right Catherine. Remember what kind of environment you’re trying to rule. Most of these people don’t know how to read and write. So if we go on beginning to quote great men then why even stage a coup. We have to be original and sound like we truly care about them.” Catherine sighed as she got up from the ground to start walking back and forth. I crawled over to help Marial clean up all the broken tea cups. 

“Why do we not just kill him?” I love Marials enthusiasm of trying to get rid of Peter but killing him literally will not solve anything if we don’t have a good backbone of support and ideals. 

“Too messy. Anyways if we kill an Emperor, they will tie Catherine up by her toes and beat her with the blunt heads of pistols.” Marial sighed as she stopped picking up the cracked tea cups. 

“Next time he is on you, stab him in the face. In the back, Orlo cuts his throat, and then you are empress, and I am Lady Marial. The end.” Ah! It all makes sense now! How intelligent. They won’t kill them all in an instant. 

“But it..it is not so simple.” Sadly it isn't and Count Orlo is right. They will get shot and I’m not in the most chipperest of moods to lose my favorite cousin!

“The two most important things in any country is the main religion and the military. If you could at least get one of the two backing Catherine, you’re golden. Although they’re both extremely popular to everyone, I’d say get the military behind you Catherine. Fire scares more people than any man in the sky.” Forgive me God but I’m only trying to help. 

“We need the church to ratify her to the whole of Russia from the pulpit after, so they must support her.” Orlo pointed out as I nodded in agreement. Both are important to Governments damn it.  

“Not to mention if Ivan is alive, we need a sympathetic military for if we kill him before that is all in place, then the military and others may get behind Ivan, and run over Catherine in the process.” Whose Ivan? 

“No one even knows where Ivan is.” Again who is Ivan? 

“Who is Ivan?” Catherine and I both asked. 

“Ivan is Peter’s half-brother, bastard son to Peter the Great. His supporters tried to take the throne after Peter first came to power.” Buffa. If there’s a half son we will be royally screwed! And if they do find this Ivan we’re even more screwed! Not that I can get involved when the coup finally happens but I’m here to give it a good push. 

“I will find out where he is?” Now we’re doing a ghost hunt. What a fun time!

“How?” Count Orlo asked as we all looked upon Catherine.

“Cleverly.” 

“I suspect we need a year to get our pamphlets just right.” A year? Mamma mia at this point I’d rather watch paint dry! 

“It’s no wonder you never fuck anyone.” My eyes widened as I got up from the floor to sit on Catherine's bed. 

“You..you cannot speak to me like that!” 

“Because I am a serf?” 

“Because it’s rude.” A throat laugh began as I covered my mouth with my hand. Looking at the door as some strange man came walking into the room with a book in his hand! Oh shit! 

“How dare you! You just walk into my chambers sir!” My hand was slithering down to my left leg as I kept a dagger there. Tell me we already don’t have a spy. 

“I would have ridden, but my horse has trouble with stairs.” Smart ass. 

“Empress?” EVEN BIGGER OH SHIT! Standing up from the bed as I rapidly walked to stand next to Catherine. 

“Orlo, what are you doing here?” 

“He brought us some books. I left mine back home.” Chiming in as I waved at the Empress. 

“I...uh..thought the Duchess and Empress would be interested..”

“Oh God you’re dull. Get out!” I thought he was being somewhat helpful. 

“Sir.” 

“If you’ll excuse me Catherine.” Slipping out with Marial as we turned the corner but tried to listen in on what was going on. 

He’s giving her a lover? And is the name Leo..and has a big loch? It was either loch or cock but I sadly couldn’t hear what he said. Though he was loud sadly it was a little mumbled. He walked past us as I stared at the wall. Catherine came walking out from the bedroom as the three of us followed her. 

“Is that your lover?” Asking her as she rolled her eyes. 

“Sadly.” How can that be sadly because wow he’s a beautiful dessert.

“Catherine..he’s extremely good looking. I think I would have a sculpture molded from his face at home.” He would look quite beautiful right next to Da Vinci. Seems appropriate wouldn’t you think? Grigors sculpture would be on the left of Da Vinci if I lived in a perfect will. 

“It is disgusting that he would just give me a lover, like I am an animal to be serviced.” Looking up to Count Orlo who had no idea what to even say in this conversation. 

“You would be serviced well. He’s a Voronsky, they are well-known lovers.” I zoned out for a second till Orlo started panicking in front of us. Does he really think that Peter noticed all the pamphlets? He gives him more credit than he deserves because he doesn’t even know Catherine. He thinks of her as some dumb wife at the moment and she’s from Europe. Makes her quite the bookworm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck! The very week we start our adventure, Peter gifts you a man!” He slammed down everything on the table as the three of us watched him panic. 

“He’s well known to insert spies into situations because he’s paranoid that no one truly likes him. It’s something common he does oh fuck! Maybe he knows! And I was there and we had pamphlets about Jesus Christ! Jesus Christ!” Approaching him as I gripped his shoulders. 

“Count Orlo will you please take one second and just breath!” Yelling as he stopped panicking and took in a very deep breath in. 

“Orlo will it make you feel better if I give him back?” Catherine asked him as he slightly nodded. 

“How? He’s Peter's gift.” I mean giving back a gift is a whole new world of being a giant dick. 

“Cleverly.” A boy came into the room and got everyone to stop talking. 

“Empress, you wanted to know when the dresses for the ladies’ tea arrived.” There’s no way they came in that quickly! We’ve got some fast fingers in our midst! Catherine and I smirked at each other as we began to walk off. 

“What dresses?” Marial asked as Catherine and I smirked. 

“Just wait and see!” Telling her as we linked arms to start walking out of her apartment. 

“Do you think this plan will work?” I asked Catherine as we hurried towards The Ladies tea room. What’s the best way you can get back at a woman besides being a gossiping old lady like them? Their appearance. Women of the court need to look their best constantly and if you destroy their image by one minor miscommunication. You bring down their entire existence. 

“Oh yes. Vlad. Have some tea ready for us when we get down there.” Catherine told him as we hurried into the tea room. 

“What colors did you make the dress?” I asked her as she smirked. 

“This extremely ugly green and purple. It's all the rage in Europe.” Ah yes I forgot they are. 

The wives were already gasping and filled with excitement for the new dresses as we walked over to the small tea table for us. I’m much more of a coffee person but I will dabble in tea of course. We sat down as I poured her the tea for the show to begin. We’re supposed to keep our eye on the stripped one that should be THERE IT IS! 

Watching the dress being bounced around as I took a sip of my tea waiting for someone to take a nice hold of it. That being The Lady that has the horse's face grabbed a hold of it as she held it up against her. She was smiling like an idiot as she turned towards Catherine and I. 

“Empress, do you like it?” Oh my god if I don’t drink my tea I will die of laughter. 

“Mhm. It looks marvelous.” 

“Truly wonderful colors mixing together.” Trying to be nice to the horse is extremely harder than it looks. 

“You will stand out.” In more ways than one. The face she placed on her horse face was a fake smile and she’s wearing far too much makeup. 

“As I always do.” I might throw up because of this conversation. She took the dress with her as we both looked at each other to give ourselves a little cheer. Fernanda came into the room as she was walking straight towards me. She leaned down towards my ear as I was told that Hernán had arrived. 

“Catherine I know you’ll be greeting the Generals. But my instructor has arrived and I do need to have my lessons.” Telling her as she nodded. We stood up as she stopped me to ask questions. 

“What lesson?” Catherine asked as I smiled. 

“Fencing, sabres, and actual sword fighting. Oh is there an empty hall that I may use” Asking her as she thought for a moment. 

“I’ll arrange the music hall to be yours. For as long as you need.” Perfect. 

“Thank you Catherine. Come by if you need me.” Fernanda and I left the tea room. 

My instructor was a day behind when I left Trento due to the fact this was a last second decision. Luckily he’s made it and I can get back into the habit of training with swords and sabres. I also owe Catherine a big thank you due to the fact that she’s letting me train in the music hall. PlusI imagine no one is going to be playing Handel or Arcangelo Corelli. 

Two of the servants followed me into the music hall as I was standing in an empty room. Guess he’s getting comfortable in his room. The servants placed down the trunk as I popped it open to look at my gear. How I have surely missed this. 

“Ah Duchess Chiara!” He yelled as I raised my head up from my fencing trunk. 

“Hernán Gil! Glad that you could make it to Russia extremely last second.” Placing my foot on the stool to fix my left boot. 

“Of course. Anything to get out of Palma. Hopefully you haven’t lost your touch with a sabre Dear Duchess.” He swung his sabre sword around in front of him as I put my foot down then into my fencing trunk. 

“Have I ever lost my touch?” Pulling my sabre out to do a few little tricks before we got into our positions. Standing across from one another with my left foot back and my right foot ancy ready to go. 

“Vamos!” He came swinging as I blocked his attack then swinging it around to then smack the sabre on his arm.

“Excellent!” He cheered as I took in a deep breath as both Hernán and I got into our standing positions. 

“Vamos!” Our blades instantly met as I spun my wrist trying to knock his sabre out of his hand. But he took a step back to try to aim for my head but I held my sabre horizontally to block his attack. He took a step back then swiftly smacked the sword against my shoulder. Cursing under my breath as I shook my head. 

“Cheap shot.” I laughed as we got back into our positions. 

“Vamos!” Raising my sabre as I tried to aim for his shoulder out of the corner of my eye Grigor came into the room to watch. That was a quick meet and greet from the Generals. Thought it would last a lot longer. 

All I could pay attention to was the fact that Grigor was just waiting for one of us to win so he could do something. What does he want? Blocking his outside attack to then move my sabre right into his chest. 

“Is there something I can help you with?” Taking off my mask as I was beginning to fix my gloves. Grigor shook his head as he approached me and looked like he had something stuck up his own ass. 

“You think strolling into the palace and our first introduction being a little bitch was something adorable?” Someone’s wife just got screwed. But not by his own cock. Does he not remember how that conversation started? Because I remember him saying that I was able to make his cock hard after my introduction to the Emperor. Most women would find that flattering, I find it repulsive. 

“Not adorable. I believe they call it an honest chap who calls you out on your wrong doings. Hernán if you want to take a break go for it. You’ve had a long journey.” Turning my attention completely on Grigor as Hernán left the room. Grigor marched towards me as I stood there watching this poor excuse of a man try to act as if he was a top bitch. Poor men like him make me sigh and want to drink for them. 

“Are you trying to intimidate me?” When he got a little close for comfort I stuck out my sabre to aim it directly in the middle of his chest. 

“Trust me. You don’t want to get any closer.” 

“You think you’re flimsy little sword scares me? It’s fake.” He pushed it away as I hit him in the shoulder with it. 

“Ouch!” He grabbed his arm to then march towards me with all of his wrath showing. Smacking him on his leg which caused him to yelp in pain. 

“I should have the guards whip you!” I would love him to try and have one of the guards lay a finger on me. Oh how I would love it!

“Grigor. I warn you. IF you think Russian women are crazy, you wouldn’t last a minute back in Italy. We women use our fist and words to solve our problems. Instead of whispers and tea parties like your wife.” He reached down for one of the fencing swords as if he was going to stab me. 

“Go ahead. Do you think you scare me? Catherine told me everything about you. You let the Emperor eat fruit out of your own wife’s cunt. If you let the Emperor walk all over you like that, then why would I let you try to intimidate me. You even threatened to have guards sent after me instead of dealing it yourself.” My sabre lashed towards the fencing sword of mine to knock it out of his hands. 

“Besides. You can’t lay one finger on my body. If one scar is placed on my body from you, the guards, or Peter himself. Italy joins the Swedish and we run over your little shit hole of a palace. Then I place my own private home in St. Petersburg and have you wash the floors.” The tip of my blade was underneath his chin as he kept a straight face. 

“I don’t like making threats but when you come storming in here expecting me to bend over to kiss your ass. A position you're familiar with obviously. But when you threaten to have the guards whip me well.” Grigor began storming off as I followed him very close. 

“Tell me Grigor. Do you wish this kind of life for yourself?” He kept shaking his head as I was trying to talk to him. 

“To allow some man child rule over such a beautiful country!” Halting in front of me to turn his heel sharply. 

“He’s not a man child!” He growled as he turned towards me. 

“And you’re a dumb ass. We can be doing this all day.” 

“What do you want?” 

“You approached me Grigor! I was quite content having my fencing lessons then you came waltzing in here expecting an apology. To quote my mother when I argue with my brothers from home. Ladies are not allowed to start fights, but we are surely allowed to finish them.” Grabbing his collar to pull him closer to me. 

“For once be a man and solve your own problems instead of cowering under the fucking bed.” Grigor's eyes widened at my statement as we just kind of stared at each other. I noticed that both my and Grigors bottom lips were shaking a little bit. Biting it to stop it twitching as I let go of him. 

“Forgive me. I can be..quite..of a dick when it comes to my passions.” Taking a step back as my throat gets dry. 

“I am too. Perhaps we both got off on the wrong foot with each other.” I placed down my sabre to rub my hands together. 

“Perhaps we did. After hearing what Catherine was doing through and Peter punching her in the stomach. I was sort of mad at the world and everyone in it.” 

“And with my wife..constantly sleeping with the Emperor. I’m sort of not in the right place with myself. May I reintroduce myself.” Grigor finished as I slightly smiled at him. 

“You may.” 

“Grigor Dymov.” He bowed as I was going to play along. 

“Duchess Chiara of Trento.” Holding out my hand for him to place a kiss on it. 

A quite refreshing restart. 

Taglist

@mirkwoodshewolf​ @bonafiderocketqueen​ @filmslutt​ @leah-halliwell92​ @johndeaconshands​ @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​ @radio-hoo-ha​ @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too​ @deck-heart​ @arrowswithwifi​  @stardust-killer-queen​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @actuallyanita​ @sadhwstudent​ 

[thusatlas]

Ask for what you want, not what you think you should have

I have a theory. Well, I have many, but this particular theory is a doozy. The theory is… (wait for it) …

Everything is connected. I know, I am a genius. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I’ll collect my Nobel Award whilst I pick a up cucumber canapé on my way out.

But seriously, as obvious as it is, the more I reflected inward on my stream of conscious and started asking why, the more I have begun to connect the dots. I have become more aware that my actions, feelings and emotions that can be explained through cause and effect.

Here I want you all to take one mental step to the left to avoid falling down the free will and determinism rabbit hole before you. That is not today's topic. It might be next weeks, but not today. So just shimmy on over to this mental path that I’m laying for you here. On this path, we are accepting that we as individuals are moral agents, accountable for our actions and behaviours. Therefore, you have free will in a world that has been pre-determined by other free moral agents. Or if that’s too deep for you, just move right on past this philosophical premise and carry on enjoying the allegory I’m about to weave for you.

This all began some time ago, way back in high school, when I had to write my CV for the first time. I know that feeling of discomfort one feels when you fill out a job form, write a personal statement or cover letter is not individual to myself. This is a widespread phenomenon and yet the only way that you can progress professionally or academically is to sell yourself. Hence there is an entire profession in which you can be paid for writing somebody else’s CV. Furthermore, hence the reason why the widely understood, highly inaccurate statistic accepted as truth is that all CEO’s and higher business people are psychopaths; one of the defining features of psychopathy being arrogance and narcissism (that part is true but again, not the point of today’s topic…moving on).  We, the neuro-typical, non-psychopathic, really struggle to write about our best selves when it comes to applications of any kind. We do it because we have to, not because we want to.

Now think about it. I write and talk about many things throughout my days, from objective truths to subjective feelings. I process categorical facts and infer meaning that is hidden within the subtext. I imagine stories, characters, worlds, conversations and ensuing emotions. All without effort.

And yet.

I cannot write about myself. I cannot write about my good qualities with ease, without that feeling of discomfort. I cannot do it as easily as I am writing this now.

Sound familiar? If it doesn’t, then firstly what’s your secret? If that does resonate with you, keep following me down the yellow brick road of this allegory. I’m going to turn it into something less deep, far easier to swallow and then bring it back to filling in application forms.

It’s going to be cool.

Hopefully…

The list of top 10 most loved/dreaded questions. Somewhere on this list is: what do you want for Christmas/your birthday because I find answering it be an egoistic minefield to navigate. Apparently, it’s considered impolite to ask for all one’s problems to be solved or a million pounds or a new car/house/holiday. What I used to say, was what I actually wanted in an exaggerated way that would generally garner a chuckle. Both myself and the other participant in the conversation knew that I was being 100 per cent serious and if the person asking was happy to buy me my dream house then I would shamelessly have accepted (whilst also repeatedly enquiring if they were sure because I couldn’t possibly, hoping beyond hope that they would not come to their senses). However, this rarely (never) happened. Thus, the usual rapport was:

Person A - “What do you want for your birthday?”

Person B - “I would love a 50-foot yacht and a butler named Steve to attend my every whim”

A and B participate in the prescribed requisite chuckle.

Person B – “But seriously, I haven’t really thought about it.”

Person A – “let me know if you think of anything”

Person B – “Of course, though you don’t have to get me anything”

Person A – “nonsense, it’s your birthday”

End scene. I will pick up the Oscar for lead performance whilst I sample these delectable mini-hamburgers. Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I had this conversation for years until I questioned what’s the point of it if nobody gets anything out of it. Having been both Person A and B, it’s uncomfortable for both parties because Person B doesn’t want to be perceived as selfish while Person A is asking to avoid the stress of having to guess what Person B wants. Now, while I love a good humble moment, this is not the time to be humble. Similar to job interviews, CV writing or personal statements. Why is it that we are not comfortable with celebrating our wants, our needs even when we are being directly asked to sell ourselves or literally tell someone what we want.

So I had a revelation a couple of years ago. I am aware that this is not going to be groundbreaking for other people but stay with me here. As of now, my life in regards to birthdays and Christmas’ consists of throwing the humble pie out of the window. My birthday is fast approaching and my family have begun to ask what I want.

AND HERE IS THE POINT OF THE ALLEGORY!

Bedsocks.

(Groundbreaking isn’t it.)

But seriously, my feet get cold because my house is old and the end of the bed is right by a window. You see the issue. Might as well sleep with my tootsies exposed to the winter’s chill.

However, (plot twist) I also want the new Jean Paul Gaultier Classique perfume which retails from £44 - £88 depending on the outlet.

I’m going to pause here because this is a Q.E.D moment. While the point of this post is not about asking the internet to get me what I want for my birthday, I feel the need to point out that I would, of course, be happy with just a card or a hug or a text for my birthday. I am merely using this as an example for the said allegory which has not yet been fully actualised. I am not some entitled princess who’s going to throw a tantrum reminiscent of Dudley Dursley if I don’t get what I want.

(If you’re not getting that reference then shame on you).

Now that I am 80 per cent sure that you don’t think I’m Veruca Salt (you better get that one), I shall continue with my point. I chose to embrace and show that yes, I want bedsocks and yes I also want magnificent perfume. Two drastically different items for the same person but these are items that I objectively want. I was asked so I answered. I am a bougie queen with cold feet.

What was interesting was the reaction of person A. There was an acceptance of my bedsock suggestion, though they did amend with, “Is that all? It’s not much”. The response to the Jean Paul Gaultier suggestion was “you don’t want much do you?” said with a scoff. We shall gloss over the mixed signals and possible shadiness and explore the duality of these responses to the embracing of my wants.

If you ever need to ground yourself or remind yourself that you are a product of all that came before you and all that will come after you, look to the Ancient Greeks. For a society that existed over 4000 years ago, we are still practising and preaching the philosophies of Thales, Aristotle, Socrates and Plato. You can find watermarks of the Greek thinkers hidden in the folds of much of modern societies ideologies, legalities, politics and psychology.

Does that mean they were ahead of their time or with all that society has evolved over that time, the human condition remains the same, regardless of how wise and savvy we think we have evolved to be?

Now it was widely accepted amongst theologians, philosophers, sociologists and psychologists that if you wish to look at the skeletal structure of a society in a snapshot, then look to their religious beliefs.

I’m going to need you to take a mental step to the right to avoid falling down the ‘is God real’ rabbit hole. We are not here to discuss the objective existence of the divine. So, I’m going to need you to hope back on our yellow brick road where we are accepting the truth that all pantheons have objectively exist in the narrative of human history within their respective societies.

To the point, the Ancient Greeks believed in a pantheon full of diverse Gods (big G, we don’t theologically discriminate here). When I first thought of the Greek pantheon, my thoughts immediately go to Zeus and his ilk. However, I’ve been on the Google and am now more informed than I was 5 minutes ago (look at me and my fact-checking… if only Fox News were the same).Anyway, briefly for your understanding, the Greek pantheon is split into 8 parts.

Parts one through to four covers the Gods who are the essential ingredients for the fabric of reality. So, Gaia who is the Earth, Pontos the Sea, and Ouranos the Dome of Heaven. The Daimones (spirits) and Nymphai who nurture the life of the four elements and so on. The Daimones that affect the body and mind: Eros the spirit of love (not to be confused with lust or attraction), Phobos the spirit of fear, Thanatos the spirit of Death. The Gods who control the forces of nature and who interacted and taught mankind. Helios the sun and Anemoi the wind; the agricultural earth Gods Ploutos, not to be confused with the pastoral Gods Pan, nor the city Gods Hestia. The Titan Gods Themis, Kronos, Prometheseus etc, are not to be confused with the defied mortals who are considered to be part of this section of the pantheon: Herakles, Asklepios etc. Nor should they be confused with the Olympian Gods Hebe and Mousai. This condensed list is actually very long.

Now we have the fifth part that everyone knows. The 12 Olympians who preside and govern over the aforementioned and the ones who have yet to be mentioned. They are Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, Ares, Athene, Aphrodite, Hephaistos, Hermes, Dionysos and Hestia. Part six through to eight covers the constellations and the horoscopes, the monsters and the semi-divine love children of the Olympians who defeated them

That is a majorly condensed list however its extensiveness is the point I am trying to make here so I appreciate you if you have stuck with me thus far. If you wish for a full list of the Greek Pantheon here are links to further your own reading: (1, 2, 3).

So, the Greeks had this diverse belief system. These beings who governed their every action. Literally everything, physical and metaphysical alike.

Now tell me what they missed.

Tell me what’s missing from this very extensive list.

Evil.

Ah, but there is Hades the God of the underworld you say! There are monsters!

Hades was made evil by Disney I’m sorry to say (though he was fabulous).

Hades in the Greek pantheon is the God of the dead and Zeus fucked up and much as he did. Odysseus is a soap opera, I swear. Anyway, the monsters?  They’re as neutral as death. They are creatures doing exactly what is within their nature to do. Thus the underlying ethos of the pantheon. Every one of those deities commits actions that can be perceived to be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ by the humans they lived alongside. The Greeks did not revere them to be absolute good, nor absolute evil. What they did, was perceive them to portray unavoidable facets of our day-to-day lives that should be celebrated, acknowledged and respected. For example, take Dionysus, the God of wine, pleasure, festivity, madness and wild frenzy. Basically, this bitch was the life of the party. As such, large banquets and hedonistic orgies were often held in his name, celebrating pleasure, life and the loss of control within the madness of relinquishing stress.

But we aren’t the Ancient Greeks are we (though I know I look fetching in a toga if I do say so myself).

Western civilisation, take the United Kingdom, for example, founded its legal system upon the 10 commandments of the monotheist pantheon of Christianity. Furthermore, The Act of Supremacy in 1534 appointed King Henry VIII the first Supreme Governor of the Church of England. A largely ceremonial title that has been passed on to reigning monarchs ever since. Within the United Kingdom, Church and State have been very much intertwined since the days of the court governance. As such, themes of Christian teachings and concepts became entwined within our culture, and over the years have become so embedded that accepted behaviour and social nuances are not intrinsically associated with its religious teaching. The obvious examples to point out are the recent milestone law amendments to same-sex marriages and abortion. Going deeper into social norms: the concepts of purity and promiscuity, humbleness and arrogance, greed, sin and punishment. I have been brought up in a time where I have heard the rhetoric about my own body change from ‘do not sleep around, don’t be easy’ to ‘it’s your body, equality, if men can do it, you can to’. Aside from my own personal views on this topic, this social rhetoric is a symptom of the culture in which we live. They also echo some (not all) Christian teachings. Triandis and Triandis (1988-2004) have produced many works on the development of culture, the bare bones of the explanation being that culture of a society is a product of history, language and stories. Prior to written print, all information was passed on from generation to generation through stories. These stories contained information about countries' histories, experiences, and beliefs. The languages and gestures telling the stories are a creole of invading forces and immigrating travellers. These are the bare ingredients for culture. All that is left to perfect this recipe is time. Leave to mature of a few centuries and you’ve got a fine wine and a handful of convoluted social norms. Hence, the aforementioned rhetoric and the continued acceptance within British culture that the Monarch is the head of the Church.

The Ancient Greeks didn’t have time. Their teachings and stories are still hailed today, but their civilisation did not survive long enough for their culture to become a social norm.

Now, the reason why we’ve gone through this is to point out that the Christian pantheon is heavily reliant upon the idea of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’.  Absolute good. Absolute evil. I could do an entire blog on the different theological branches of Christianity and how they have affected Western culture. In this instance, we shall focus on the concept of sin. Though it is obvious, it must be pointed out:

Sin is bad.

Bad is punished.

Ergo -  Must avoid sin.

What is sin? Well, sinning is many things if we go by the Bible and the wholesome Leviticus, but here we are focusing on the widely known and accepted concept of the Seven deadly sins. Though these little devils didn’t specifically make a named appearance in the Bible, their themes were present throughout. Thereafter they were popularised and named via Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales and Dante’s Purgatory.

Hopefully, you’re beginning to see all the threads of this post coming together now.

The Seven deadly sins are as such:

Greed

Envy

Lust

Gluttony

Wrath

Sloth

Pride

It is accepted within Western culture that behaviour must avoid ‘evil’ to avoid punishment. Ergo, we must avoid behaving in any way that can be associated with the aforementioned fiendish sins.

And so. The point.

I want bougie perfume and bedsocks for my birthday. Bedsocks is an acceptable humble and utilitarian item. It is not frivolous.

Bougie perfume? It is frivolous. It is a luxury. It is Greed. The fact that I boldly stated as such? Maybe a hint of Pride in my request? Either way, it is a social norm to at least raise an eyebrow at somebody stating frankly that they want an expensive item for their birthday.

To stress this point: if I had asked for driving lessons which are double the price of the perfume, no comment would have been made because of its utility. And so I bring you right back to the beginning. I am applying for jobs and finding the whole process unbearably uncomfortable because I am wondering if me toting all my achievements in one go and really selling myself will come across as arrogant (pride).

I should be humble, shouldn’t I? Humble me in the face of power…Isn’t that the social norm here? Which leads me to my final conclusion. Here are two different worldviews and neither are false and neither are true. If everything is connected (and that is what we call a callback) and if I were an Ancient Greek, how would I apply for jobs? How would I tote my credentials when there is no punishment for being proud of my accomplishments? When there is no concept of sin within the narrative of my worldview and just differing aspects of my nature, surely applying for jobs, asking for presents, networking etc, etc, etc, would be a far less painful experience?

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #283

“if teardrops could be bottled, there’d be swimming pools filled by models”

How much would you tip a waiter or waitress for good service? I honestly don’t even know the proper etiquette of tipping because I almost never ever have been in a sit-down restaurant where I’ve paid because of the whole “I don’t have an income” thing. If for whatever reason I did, I would have asked the person with me how. I do (maybe…) believe however that there should be a baseline for how much you tip, even if your experience is somewhat unpleasant. You don’t know what that person is going through that day. If it’s just pure awful, then I might not tip at all, but I think I’d honestly feel way too guilty. Who is your favorite character from the television sitcom Friends? I don’t watch it. Whose name might you have tattooed on your body? None. Well, I guess if I had hypothetical kids, I might, especially as a tribute if they died. What is something that you always need to leave plugged in? I always at least have my laptop charger plugged into the wall, but not always into my computer as to not totally kill the battery. I just need it a lot because I’m only always on it. Who might you send a selfie to? I don’t send them to anyone, really, save for specific occasions. I just take selfies once in a blue moon to change my Facebook picture, honestly. I feel weird just sending people pictures of me because I feel like I’m screaming, “HEY LOOK AND COMPLIMENT ME!!!!!!!!!”, so it makes me uncomfortable. I only did semi-recently because my friend did my makeup for a Halloween shoot and for once in my goddamn life I felt really pretty so sent it to Sara. Name an item in or on your bed every night. My phone is on the right upper corner of my bed so I can check it when I wake up; I always wake up throughout the night and wanna know what time it is. Out of your work shift, how much time do you spend doing “actual work”? Well one, define “actual work,” but odds are almost zero because I don’t have shit to do. How long do your New Years resolutions typically last? I don’t make ‘em. Who would you call first after getting engaged to tell them the news? Most likely Mom. What’s the song that reminds you of the person you like?Okay so deadass I listened to NSP’s “Wish You Were Here” cover recently and kinda cried lol. Are you good at holding back your tears? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. Have you ever sacrificed something important to you for someone you love? My goddamn sanity. How many jobs do you have? None. Do you have any memories you want to erase? There’s one occasion with Jason I wish I could forget so, so badly. Do you believe in the phrase “If it’s meant to be, it will be”? No. I don’t believe in pre-determined destinies and such, and thus I don’t see anything as “meant” and “not meant” to be. Do you believe in destiny? Wow, good timing lmao. Do you believe that things will get better? I like to think so. Have you ever drunk dialed someone? No. Have you ever worn a tiara? Haha, I think on my 18th birthday maybe, my friend Summer came with us to dinner and brought me a birthday tiara. If someone offered to take you out for your birthday, where would you decide to go? I almost always go to Olive Garden for dinner. But, after trying the Cheesecake Factory for the first time… *eyes emoji* If you plan to have kids, what will you tell them about Santa Clause? I’m not having kids, but hypothetically, I’d let them believe it. It’s so magical as a kid and brings so much excitement. I’d tell them the truth when it feels appropriate, and if I know they’re not the type to go telling other kids for no reason “HEY MY MOM SAID SANTA’S NOT REAL SO UR DUMB.” I’d be damned if they ruined it for other children. If you have ever been employed, have you ever been attracted to your boss? What about a co-worker? Not that I remember. Do [would] you avoid kissing your [possibly hypothetical] significant other when you or they are ill? Look man I made out with my ex while he was recovering from bronchitis before we knew it wasn’t contagious so OOPS yeah because I am 110% the “if you’re sick, I’m sick” dumbass all the while going FULL Mom Mode taking care of the person. What was the last thing you bought, other than food? With my own money, that is a daaaamn good question. I only really use it/am given it for food. Have you ever had a crush on a teacher? No. Who was the last person you Facebook messaged? Do you know what that person is doing at this moment? My mom. She’s in the living room watching TV, probably. Think back to the last time you cried, or felt like crying. Who or what helped you to feel better? My mom. Do you own any accessories with your name or initial on them? No, they don’t appeal to me. Is there someone of the opposite sex that knows everything, or almost everything, about you? I would say Jason, but we haven’t seen or spoken to each other for almost four years, and I’m a much different person by now, and I’m sure he is, too. Do you remember the last time you cried because you missed someone? A few weeks back I had a breakdown over Jason again. My PTSD was and still is being pretty rough lately. Are your eyes the same color as your sibling(s)? Just my brother. Anything in your room that you’re hiding from your parents, or someone else? No. What’s your most noticeable flaw? Thinking about it, probably my extreme aversion to conflict. I will BOLT from confrontation. And what’s your best feature? I’m extremely empathetic. Have you ever hallucinated? Yeah; I would see shadows move when I was coming off a certain med. Do you have fangirl-ish tendencies? ………………. Have you ever replied “OK” when someone confessed they liked you? Wow, no. Either admit reciprocated feelings or gently turn them down. The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, or The Beatles? OHHHHHHHH BUDDY. Led Zeppelin, I think… but maybe the Stones. Idk. What would you do for immortality and infinite youth? Nothing. Would you rather have a pool or a hot tub? A pool. Is your handwriting legible? Yes. Well, some people find it slightly difficult because it’s kinda fancy. Have you ever held a baby chick? Yes! Do you think ‘everything bagels’ are disgusting? I’m not a fan. Do you live with anyone that you try to avoid at all costs? No. What did you last get upset about? How incredibly fuckin weak my body is. When is the last time you personally made someone else cry? I don’t know. How many more people do you think you’ll kiss before you die? Hopefully only one. I do NOT want to deal with anymore heartbreak, nor do I want to waste anymore time with someone I’m not going to spend the rest of my life with. Are you more spiritual or religious? Spiritual. Ever been to a rave? Nooooo, most definitely not my scene. Are you afraid to name the person you talk the most shit about? No. Song playing right now? I’m listening to “PRESIDENT X” by 3TEETH rn. Have you ever laughed at someone because they had a funny name? No, that’s incredibly rude. Speaking of names, why do celebrities always call their kids stupid ones? They’re not all “stupid”…? There are some beautiful names I’ve heard. It’s none of my business why others’ children are named what they are. Do you get car sick easily? I don’t. Do you think you’re a good conversationalist? Why is that? NO. I’m just awkward and don’t know what to talk about or what to say back to people a lot. Awhile back though my friend Ian told me I was actually a really nice one and it meant a LOT to me. Hearing someone say that reassured me a little bit. Have you ever been on a float in a parade? What were you doing on it? No. Have you ever been in a helicopter? No. Have you ever had chicken pox? No. Who is your favorite animated character? Oh boy that’s hard man, idk. Maybe Ninetales, at least aesthetically. Idk about as characters themselves. Is it easy to make you gag? Yeah. Who’s your favorite Disney character? Probably Scar. Would you rather have a pet crocodile or a pet octopus? I deadass kinda want a caiman lol. It’s something I doubt I’ll actually do, though. Do you like Ritz crackers? Yeah. Do you have any designer clothing? If so what brand? No. Were you afraid of the dark when you were little? Not very, no. What are your opinions on war in general? It’s fucking awful and could be avoided if people weren’t so goddamn hasty, selfish, and uncompromising, among many other adjectives. Do you like pretzels? Yessss, especially soft ones. Have you ever wanted to be a writer? Yeah, tons of times in my life on-and-off. Did you even vote? This is the very first year I actually did. I felt really bad for not acting, only complaining about my government, and “silence speaks” was heavy on my head. Did some research to educate myself, and I felt amazing afterwards. What is your favorite flavor of gum? Usually watermelon. Are you wearing any bandaids? If so, where and why? No. Do you currently have any bruises on you? No. Do you/did you like or dislike school? I always hated it. Are you currently wearing any lotion? No. Do you ever make recipes found online? What was the last one? I don’t cook, so… but there sure are some that look good. If you smoke weed, what do you usually do after you get high? If you don’t, what would you do if everyone around you were smoking? I never have, so I wouldn’t know. Haha, for the second half, sit there awkwardly… been there once. What’s the last thing you ordered online? The next Wings of Fire book. Starting Sunny’s story now. Tell me about your favorite dress. I had this spring dress in high school that was white with purple skulls on it in a floral design… It was really cute and just has a special memory tied to it. Have you ever slept in a waterbed? If so, what was it like? Yeah, that used to be considered “fun” as a kid. They’re not awful, but not that comfortable either, and if I remember well, it’s easy to get sweaty because of the material. How many floors does your house have? Just one. Have you ever had anything removed from your body? Yes. Do you enjoy sappy love songs? Hell yeah I do. Do you ever buy the same shirt in different colors? Simple tank tops, yeah. Ever made out on a rooftop? Damn dude no I’d be paranoid of falling off lmao. One place you will never eat at? Arby’s. If someone went through your pictures, would they find a "bad" one? Nope.

[aoibaratraveler]

A Look Back At My Time in Japan! Chapter 2

Welllllll it looks like it’s been a while since I last posted again...but I have an excuse! I was preparing for a pretty big interview and getting ready to make a trip back to Canada. Maybe you’ve heard of the JET programme and maybe you haven’t but I had an interview for that earlier this month and so it took up a lot of my headspace, I’ll be posting more about it once I hear my results in a month or so but I hope to not have too much of a gap anymore in between posts! Also, a mutual friend of both mine and the bf is coming to stay this weekend from Germany so I’m very excited about that and will hopefully have chapter 3 up afterward.

I said before that this will probably be a 4 part blog but you know I really just have so much to say on my experience and can hopefully provide some insight to any people looking to go on exchange to Japan in the future! Or go on exchange in general since my UK exchange story will be coming after this one! So much happened though that this may just end up being a 6 parter xD, ahh it really would have been great if I wrote what happened at the time. Well, I hope you enjoy reading about Japan through my eyes! I’ve also decided to go with naming these chapters since unlike my UK road trip blog, I’m writing this 4 years after the fact so it feels more like I’m telling a story than giving a week by week account on what I experienced. Anyway, last change to my blog! Promise!

Without further ado!

First Month on Exchange: April

I forgot to mention! At the end of chapter 1 was when I arrived in Nagasaki for the first time and earlier in the day before my homestay mother arrived to pick me up, all of the exchange students were made to sit a placement exam to determine their level of Japanese and which class they were to be placed into. Since I had barely slept the night prior and wasn’t really reviewing my textbooks until the last minute, I was only placed in Japanese 3 (they work up from 1) which was good enough for the level that I was at, at the time but if I had reviewed like I had wanted to instead of being lazy then I might have made it to Japanese level 4...but well, we’ll never know and I’m really just giving myself a hard time since I take learning languages, especially Japanese, and being a linguist super seriously. I’m a major procrastinator so of course, I put off reviewing until the last moment but I should be proud of myself for getting there and I made some really good friends that I’m still in touch with from being placed in Japanese 3. 

The day after arriving was a whirlwind! I felt like I could tackle anything and was so full of energy! I took my homestay mother up on her offer to drive me to the opening ceremony that was the day after I arrived in Nagasaki which was meant to welcome all the new exchange students and the first-year Japanese students. It was a rainy day but I was full of anticipation. I wore my best outfit that I had brought along with me and had high hopes. It was a really interesting experience as we never do opening ceremonies or anything of the sort for new university students in Canada. There are normally just fairs and maybe freebies up for grabs. My homestay mother only stayed for a small part of it and then left but it was short enough anyway so I didn’t mind. We were then shipped off to the university campus as the ceremony wasn’t actually at the school and then made to attend a sort of self-introduction and general information class where we each said a little something about ourselves and were able to ask any questions about what our life was going to be like for the next four months. I quickly seemed to grab the attention of a small Vietnamese-American who we’ll call TC. She was very bright and friendly and immediately asked if we could be friends because I said that I love to travel in my self-introduction and I seemed interesting whereas no one else did (probably should have taken this as a slight red flag but I felt flattered so whatever). We pretty quickly buddied up and spent a lot of time together thereafter. 

The next day was a Saturday and from the looks of my Google timeline, I mostly just walked around and explored my new neighbourhood the whole time and got to know my homestay family. Although Saturday morning was special because my homestay family took me up to Tateyama to go have a picnic next to the cherry blossoms since they were still in season. Tateyama has a “mountain” in the name but it’s really just a hill that was situated behind my homestay family’s apartment and it took about 30 minutes to walk up. I tried some kakigori (shaved ice) and played with the coolest little Shiba Inu. It was a lovely little morning and I got to experience the happy atmosphere of my neighborhood while we all took in the cherry blossoms. 

I was lucky enough to be placed in the centre of Nagasaki city while most other homestays were in the countryside, closer to the school. I wouldn’t have minded that since I adore the countryside of Japan and being placed in the city meant that I was an hour away from the university. My first official week in Nagasaki was jam-packed even though I hadn’t actually started my classes yet! Even though we had already attended our opening ceremony for the semester and the school year the previous Friday, classes, for the exchange students at least, weren’t scheduled to start until the second week of April and our first week was just for us to mostly do whatever we wanted! TC and I decided to spend our Monday making a day trip to the next prefecture which was Saga. We didn’t really have any idea what we wanted to do there exactly but I had recently purchased a JR Youth 18 ticket which is somewhat similar to a JR pass and anyone can buy it, not just tourists, and you can only go on local JR trains, so no bullet trains or high-speed trains. It costs about the equivalent of $120 and is good for any 5 non-consecutive days with unlimited trips on those days. We had looked up a bunch of cool things that were in Saga prefecture but would take a really long time to get to and weren’t anywhere near the actual city so we decided just to spend a day in Saga city...although we didn’t really have any choice. You see, I’m speaking to you in hindsight knowing full well how a lot of things work now...especially the JR Youth 18 ticket. I only briefly had an idea of it when I purchased it because L’s sister told me about it when I was living in Tokyo. So when TC and I embarked on our journey to explore Saga, we boarded a bullet train from Nagasaki station. We were about an hour into our trip when a conductor came by to check our ticket and notified us that we were very mistaken but he was super kind and understood that we didn’t know we had done something wrong and let us know what our next step should be. We told him where we wanted to go so he wrote out a detailed guide with all the stations we’d need to get on and get off at (after getting off the bullet train at the next stop) with all of the times. It was really helpful and I really appreciated it but what was supposed to be only an hour-long trip to the next prefecture turned into 4 and a half hours...I felt really bad because TC had left it to me since she couldn’t speak Japanese and voiced her displeasure at it all. It wasn’t a great start to the week but I think if I were on my own and the same thing was to happen then I honestly wouldn’t have minded. When we got off the bullet train we were in a really small town in the middle of nowhere that was super quiet with nothing around, it was actually really cool. We explored that area for about an hour while we waited for the next local train. There was a big river flowing through the city, an old shrine on top of a hill, and a bunch of little, colourful wind turbines lined up one after the other leading from the station to the river.  It was lovely. That stop had the longest wait for a train, the next few stops had trains coming one after the other, but we had just missed one by being on the bullet train. After a long journey, we finally made it to Saga city but it was super quiet and no one was around, maybe because it was a Monday? It was really nice though, there was something really serene about being in a city with one main street and no one around except for a few elderly people walking about. We didn’t end up staying for long but I knew from living in Tokyo for a month that government buildings of any Japanese city are usually free for people to go up to, to the top floor and get a view of the entire city so that’s what we did and it was really nice because again, no one else was there and it was just us. Afterward, we took some photos with the cherry blossoms and headed back to Nagasaki.

The next day I decided to use my JR Youth 18 ticket again to go to Sasebo which is in Nagasaki prefecture so it wouldn’t be that long of a trip but TC didn’t want to have any more long train rides for a while so I went on my own. Sasebo is well known in the prefecture by people and is a recommended spot from locals because it’s where the American naval base is and has a different vibe to it compared to other prefectures. It is also famous for the “Sasebo burger” which is essentially just a normal-sized burger to us Westerners but was designed for the surge in marines that were living in Sasebo after World War II and became a hit to all visitors thereafter. I really just spent an afternoon walking around and admiring the area because, yes, it didn’t quite feel like the rest of Japan, but not exactly like America either. You’d have to see for yourself. I mostly wanted to visit Sasebo because there was meant to be an abandoned theme park nearby and I love that sort of stuff but unfortunately I would have needed a car to get there. The train ride in and out is what made it really special. It was absolutely gorgeous because the trip went along the coast and it was such a beautiful day, I honestly wish I had videotaped it. 

The following couple of days I visited my university and more thoroughly explored the inner and outer parts of Nagasaki city, especially the biggest shrine in the area and what made that part of the city so popular, Suwajinja/ Suwa Shrine. “It is located in the northern part of the city, on the slopes of Mount Tamazono-san, and features a 277-step stone staircase leading up the mountain to the various buildings that comprise the shrine. Suwa shrine was established as a way of stopping and reversing the conversion to Christianity that was taking place in Nagasaki. In modern times it remains an important and successful center of the community.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suwa_Shrine_(Nagasaki)

I also got a job! It was the funniest thing actually. A day or so prior, I was walking with my homestay mother through town to help her go grocery shopping and I saw a little building that had an English school in it and was intrigued. Later, that night I looked the school up and decided to send them an email expressing my interest in working there part-time and if they had any open spots. I immediately got a response from the owner and he said I could come by the next day for a chat. I did just that and apparently, as I arrived, little did I know, a guy that the owner had just spent two weeks training and getting ready for the after spring break rush of students decided to quit at the last minute and do a runner. So to sum it up, after a pleasant but short conversation, I was hired on the spot. I was told to come by the next day for some quick training prep, as I had never taught English before, so that I could start the following week. He clearly needed someone after the other guy had bailed out though.

Finally, on Friday and the end of my first week in Nagasaki, all of the exchange students were taken for an overnight trip to the mountain and hot springs town of Unzen! It took us about 7 and a half hours to get there but we left early in the morning and arrived mid-afternoon so there was still plenty of time for us to do stuff. We were to stay in a traditional hotel next to a natural hot springs and several geysers. It was such a cool and mysterious area to explore with my exchange mates and TC, especially at night after soaking in the hot springs (which let me tell you was awkward considering it was my first time being naked in front of other people, other girls, but still). The air was misty because of the sulfur, smelled like rotten eggs, but that didn’t stop us from walking around in our hotel yukatas. We stayed up for a large portion of the night, took in the atmosphere and just basically partied. The next day we hiked Mount Unzen and it was awesome, the view was glorious. It was also just a really nice bonding experience and a better way for us all to get to know each other. After our hike, we were taken to the small town of Obama which wasn’t named after the former U.S. president but did have a statue of him. It was also a seaside town and was popular for its free public hot spring foot baths which we indulged in after having a delicious nabe lunch. It was an unforgettable overnight trip and did its job of helping all the exchange students get to know each other better (more detail here and below).

The following week consisted of more city exploration, settling in, my first shifts at the English school, some administrative university stuff like signing up for classes the old school way with pen and paper - gotta love Japan - and actually attending classes. It may seem a bit mundane but I enjoyed every minute of it. Oh I forgot to mention, another reason why Nagasaki is so cool to explore and why I never get tired of it is there is a big Portuguese and Dutch influence mixed in with the Japanese aesthetic because those were the first countries that Japan opened up trade to on the port of Nagasaki between the 16th and 19th centuries. To add to that, there are also several hidden Christian sites that are also UNESCO World Heritage sites around the area because when Christianity first appeared with the Dutch and the Portuguese, it was outlawed and forbidden.

In the next couple of weeks, I went strawberry picking with my homestay family which was spectacular! They had a family friend who owned a strawberry farm and we were allowed to pick an unlimited number of delicious, fresh strawberries. I’m telling you we picked enough strawberries to last us for the next few weeks and I got a strawberry coma from the amount that I ate. It was great. After strawberry picking, my homestay family took me to a restaurant nearby the farm where all the ingredients were locally sourced. A few days after that, I spent the day with a few of my new friends as well as TC and we went to the Nagasaki Penguin Aquarium and, boy, was that cool. We saw so many species of Penguin with all sorts of personalities. There was something that put a bit of a hamper in our day and that had to do with a guy who my friend so eloquently nicknamed as “kimoi” (Japanese for gross). I suppose it all started a  day or so before my friends and I decided to meet up for the aquarium. I was sitting in the lounge at uni waiting for some people when a Japanese guy approached me and wanted to chat and obviously that was no problem so I obliged because I’m always down to make new friends. He  seemed nice and friendly enough but we slowly moved from small talk to him mentioning a girl that I am now friends with but at the time didn’t know so well even though we were in the same class. He began talking shit about her and how mean she was to him and….how he wanted to kill her...I was like whoa ok no need for that, I’m sure it was a misunderstanding and I tried to cheer him up and his mood did end up getting better and then he just started complimenting me and saying how nice I was and I honestly didn’t know how to take what was happening. I honestly should have taken it more seriously but it was really just a passing conversation that I had with him since we were the only ones in the lounge and he seemed to be friends with a few other people that I had befriended. It was very strange though especially since Japanese people aren’t known to speak ill of others. Anyway, someone from the group of people I met had invited him to hang out with us at the aquarium and I was ok with it at first but...it turns out that he took our small talk that happened by chance as a sign that I liked him??? And wanted to date him?? He assumed that this whole day at the aquarium was our date and I somehow turned into his girlfriend and the other people that were there were just...third, fourth, fifth, and sixth wheels….It was bizarre and I was thoroughly creeped out. He was clearly unstable. The whole time at the aquarium he was trying to find a chance to be alone with me and get the other guys to leave but I kept making sure we were always with everyone and finally one of my guy friends took one for the team and said he’ll distract him by insisting he wants to hang out with him somewhere else while the rest of us headed back to the city. We ended the day by having a much needed calming visit to the Nagasaki Museum of History and Culture and spent a couple of hours learning about our new home. 

Then, on the 27th of April, my birthday, I was pleasantly surprised by a home celebration planned by my homestay mother. She got me a little Sailor Moon figure since I mentioned how much I love the character Sailor Moon, ordered chiraishi bowls for all of us which is essentially sashimi over rice, and some cake. I was absolutely delighted. It was a fantastic day if I do say so myself especially since earlier in the day when I was in class my new friends had all bought me snacks and wished me happy birthday. I was further spoiled after work the next day by my boss taking me and my coworkers out for an izakaya dinner, obviously I don’t drink but the food at izakayas are always sooooo good. It was definitely one of my more favourite birthdays, I was 22 and having the time of my life.

I decided to end off April and spend Golden Week, which is a week at the end of April and beginning of May filled with national holidays and is thus called “Golden Week” by making a trip to Busan, South Korea with TC. She found a deal for us to take a 3-hour ferry from Fukuoka to Busan and stay in a Couchsurfing place (which was to be my first of many). I soon learned from this trip that even though TC claimed to be travel savvy, she doesn’t really do her research very well. But I’ll get to that in a bit. We embarked on our journey from Nagasaki station by highway bus (which was the cheapest option) to Fukuoka to take our ferry. When we arrived, we quickly got lost. South Korea, well Busan, isn’t quite as easy to figure out as Japan but that’s mostly because neither of us spoke Korean. We spent a while trying to find wifi and our host’s place. We were excited to be able to explore the city of Busan at any rate and spoke to a few locals along our way who could speak a little English. When we finally found and arrived at our host’s place. We found out that our host didn’t have a bed or a blanket or anything for us to sleep on, just literally the hardwood floor of his kitchen in a small one-bedroom apartment. I mean I was grateful to have shelter, I was, but damn. TC complained that the couple of other times that she used Couchsurfing she always had her own room and bed and didn’t know why this happened but being that I now have lots of experience in Couchsurfing, I can tell you that TC was either lying or that she must have had luck of the draw with her previous Couchsurfing trips and just requested to stay with the first person that popped up in Busan. Normally, when you look on Couchsurfing you can tell what the host is offering, where you get your own room or a shared room, how much privacy you get and pictures of the place but this guy must have had nothing up on his profile otherwise I don’t see how TC would have requested to stay with him...actually I still don’t see why she requested to stay with him. I never stay with someone if they have no references, pictures, or if it’s a shared space. It was such an uncomfortable 6 days because I really was not prepared to be sleeping on a hardwood floor with no cover but the clothes from my bag. The host was really nice though and he could speak English well so that was a plus. I mostly blame TC for most likely not actually reading his profile because then I could have prepared myself.

We spent our first full day in Busan and the last day of April at the Gamcheon Culture Village which is considered the “Asian Santorini” for its colourful landscape. TC had arranged for us to meet up with another couchsurfing host and his guest. One of whom was a Vietnamese ex-pat and an American from Connecticut that had been spending the past few months traveling around Asia. He was really cool and open-minded, we both connected with the two guys really quickly and had a blast exploring the village, trying street food and heading to downtown Busan. The American guy, Z, reminded me that travel shouldn’t be about seeing as much as possible but just absorbing where you are and taking in everything as opposed to getting so much done but never actually experiencing it. We walked for ages and thoroughly investigated every nook and cranny of this intriguing village. We also hiked up to the top and took an amazing view of all of the colourful buildings and artwork. I ate a loooot of street food that day and honestly each thing was under a dollar, it was great! Two things stood out to me from my street food adventure and that was Beondegi which is silkworm pupae; bitter but not overly gross and hotteok; my absolute favourite thing that I tried even though I’m not really much of a sweet tooth. It was a deliciously sweet, caramelly thick pancake with peanuts. One of the reasons why I love Busan so much is that the food is so cheap and delicious so I really did eat a lot of it….Since we hit it off with these two other couch surfers, we decided to meet up with them a few more times before leaving Busan. Later that night when we got back to our host’s apartment, we were invited to have fried chicken with him and his friend--an absolute must-have if you’re ever in Korea.

[lightanddarklove]

Connverse Week Day 7: Future

Fear the of the Future, but it's not so bad with you

Read on Archive of our Own | Day 1 prompt | Day 2 prompt |  Day 3 prompt | Day 4 prompt | Day 5 prompt |  Day 6 Prompt | My Writing Masterpost

Still not done with Chapter 6, but 4 has been completed, so check that one out if you liked Chapter 2, it’s a continuation on that Soft Jock fic. Hopefully I’ll complete Ch 6 in a few days.

This was inspired by the story of Regan's government cheese, which large caches of them are rumored to be in Missouri, called Show-me state here. Read this article about government cheese if you're interested: https://www.history.com/news/government-cheese-dairy-farmers-reagan

Connie's having some dark thoughts about what the future may hold, with the risk of societal collapse looming closer, but Steven's always willing to listen to her talk. A bit of existential dread and paranoia, but with a humorous lens. Connie Centric. Gen.

It wasn’t often that Connie felt the need to call Steven at odd hours of the night. More often, in the wee hours before morning, he would send a message to see if she was awake, with bouts of insomnia or the stray nightmare of old battles or threats. But at 19 years old, 2nd Semester of Freshman Year, she called him at 2:07 am on a cold Tuesday evening.

After four rings, he answered with a groggy “Hello?”

“I know it’s late, I’m sorry for that, but we are at 90 seconds to midnight-“Connie said in a rushed and anxious tone.

“Wait, no, Connie. Its 2 am, did you misread the time?”

“On the doomsday clock, Steven!” Her voice fretful.

“I’m sorry, you lost me. What doomsday clock?”

“You’ve never heard of the doomsday clock?” Connie blanched. Her voice hushed in an apprehensive tone. “How have I been this irresponsible not to tell you about this sooner?”

“Slow down, Connie. Why don’t you start with the reason you’re up so late?” Steven said through a yawn. “Then you can tell me about the doomsday clock.”

“I was working on a project, I wasn’t ready to stop but I was tired at 10:30, so I set a timer for 11:15 and took a nap.” She answered ardently

“Uh-huh,” he replied.

“When I woke up, I had a Tweeter notification for a news story about the Doomsday Clock changing. I was scared, but I had to finish my project. The project is about great famines in history, and when I was finished, I looked up something I had cited. I ended up in an article rabbit-hole that lead me to the story of the largest surplus of cheese in America. They’re deep in caves, the biggest store located in Show-Me. The conclusion I came up with is that when society breaks down, if it’s just the two of us, we store flour and pasta in Lion’s Mane, then we travel to Show-me and make government cheese the main staple of our diet. All we’ll have to do is find someplace to plant some easy to maintain fruits and vegetables and we’ll have no trouble managing through societal collapse! It’s the perfect plan!”

“Didn’t already discuss making a bunker in the Temple? Making Mom’s old room into a place with beds and storage and we can rewatch all our favorite movies and shows in there… Or did I dream that?”

“Climate change, Steven, the Temple could be underwater in a decade! We don’t want to drown as soon as we leave it!”

“Hold on, what about asking Lapis to change the shape of the bay to prevent the flooding? Presuming that what collapses society doesn’t also doesn’t also take out the majority of the gems.” Steven paused. “Also, what does the Doomsday Clock have to do with societal collapse?”

“It’s the measure of risk of the world ending in nuclear disaster.”

“…Oh.” Steven replied, voice cracking with dread. “Uh Connie, what does it mean that we’re 90 seconds to midnight?”

“It’s the closest we’ve come in the history of mankind to true societal failure. This measure was implemented in the Cold War, and it’s never been this bad before.”

“Connie, I love you,” he said somberly, “but if my shield or bubble doesn’t protect me from high powered radiation I’m going to ask you to go on without me.”

“Steven!” Connie squawked.

“Radiation sickness is no joke, I regret watching that documentary about Japan in WWII last year, and I don’t want to go out like that.”

“Your mom’s shield protected the gems from the Corruption blast, it would likely protect us if we’re not in an immediate blast radius.”

“I know, but I wonder if that’s different, because it didn’t affect human life on earth, only gems.”

“I mean humans could be fundamentally different now, we’d have to check genomics on right before and right after the corruption blast.”

“I’m adding that to my notes app to look up later.”

“I think you’d have to fund a study for something like that.”

“Adding ‘Talk to dad about funding a genomics study’ to that note.”

“So you think that we can go to Show-me if things go bad?”

“Cheese is the primary reason I’m not vegan, so I’m not opposed to getting that as a major food source. But also, are there any onions that will grow in that climate? Or beans? Because grilled cheese and mac and cheese will only satisfy me for so long. Gimme chili and cheese or something else with good flavor and I will be a happy man.”

“We’ll find a way, I know it,” Connie pledged.

“Do you feel better about the Doomsday Clock now?” Steven asked.

“Yeah, I do.” She replied. “Thanks for letting me rant about societal destruction and cheese for a bit.”

“Cheese Louise, I could listen to you talk all night, but you should get some sleep.”

“Ok, good night, Biscuit, I love you.”

“Love you too, Strawberry. Good night.” She hung up.

Connie sighed as she laid back into bed. She was lucky to have someone she loved to look forward to spending her future with, even if it was scary.

[bygosscarmine]

LOVE SHIFTS SHAPE

Sky High: Magenta x Ethan, post-canon

a multi-chapter reunion story, in continuity with Love, Unspoken

Magenta is dreading the reunion in a mild "I'm in a successful band that has nothing to do with my powers" sort of a way, but she looks forward to seeing the friends she's kept up with at the party.

Then, for a second she doesn't recognize Ethan in his adult form, and things long forgotten (like her break-up with Zach) feel all too relevant again.

Chapter One: For A Limited Time Only

Coming down into Baltimore, Magenta stared from the plane at the citylights glinting off the water. Cars ran through the urban landscape in their binary directions, mapping its arteries in red and white cells. It had been some time since she’d flown into this airport, even longer since she’d done it alone. Strange how that made her on edge. The jolts of landing from a flight usually gave her a thrill, but today it felt just like being shoved around in a crowd after a long day.

The airplane finally stopped moving, and soon the passengers heard the bing of permission to remove their seatbelts. Magenta hadn't flown business class, since she couldn't exactly write off a trip home, so she had to wait for the many rows ahead of her to clear. Even when it was almost her turn to leave the plane, she was forced to lean uncomfortably on the back of her seat, stooped, as the people in front of her wrestled large bags from overhead bins.

She turned her cellphone back on while she waited and saw a message directed at her in the messaging group with her high school friends. When's your flight arrive?

Just now, she replied.

Someone asked, When will you leave?

Day after the party.

It felt weird to not to be going home--but not all bad. It was one less thing to dread, though she'd get a lecture from her mother eventually. She was dreading the reunion enough.

The rental car kiosk was thankfully not over-run at this time of night, so she got a car without too much delay and drove to her hotel. In the pull-through lane in front of the lobby, she handed over her car with luggage to a valet, taking only the disreputably worn-in messenger bag with her wallet and phone that had accompanied her into the plane cabin as well. As she walked into the lobby a middle-aged man with the distinctive style of a traveling businessperson was complaining to a clerk, though he spared a moment's attention to giving her a critical look.

Apparently women in smokey eye-makeup and torn jeans didn't fit his image of the Royana establishment.

"Yeah," he said, in that exasperated tone conveying he felt he was being really patient, "I really feel like I should get an upgrade, every other location I've been to has a free shuttle from the airport."

"I'll see what I can do, sir," said the junior clerk, while glancing into the side-office.

The senior staff-member who emerged at this moment saw Magenta and said, "Ah! Ms. Notani. Welcome. We have your Premier Suite ready for you. Just give me a moment to activate your key."

"Certainly," said Magenta. "And please upgrade this gentleman's suite as one of my guests. Thank you."

The man looked flabbergasted (and not necessarily pleased) but Magenta just took her key-card and headed toward the elevators.

She was only in a split second of the advertisement featuring Kitt, the frontwoman of her band The Wastelanders, but the members all had Ambassador status with this hotel. It was nice; if she had to stay in a hotel in her own hometown, it was at least a ritzy one. Her luggage was brought up only moments after she arrived, with a complimentary cheeseboard from room service. It had been a while since she'd given cheese a hard look, but with reunion looming old memories were being dredged from the deeps. There had been a few months in school when pranking her with cheese had been a thing. She'd found it in her locker, left on her usual seats in class, and even (she suspected some of the meaner upperclassman of this one) written over her gym shirt with the kind that sprayed from a can.

Well, she couldn't let them get into her head already. She ate some of the goat feta on the rosemary crackers, and put the rest in the fridge.

She spent the next day pretending to catch up on her correspondence. Somehow she kept getting sidetracked into checking into one of the particularly dumb games on her phone instead. She gave up around three in the afternoon, and started to get ready though it was four hours before the event started. And she wasn’t getting dressed in something that required several hours to dress, either. The coded phrase for the reunion had been business casual, but Magenta didn’t believe in this barren subset of style and owned nothing resembling it. She’d be wearing some of the cigarette jeans the stylist for their tour had talked her into buying which ended up too tight for a night of jumping around on stage, and a blouse she’d picked up before her flight. It looked too dressy for her, so she figured it would work.

She zipped herself into the boots Kitt called "Maj's wingmen" and confronted herself in the mirror. “Am I going to have to get a warm-up drink?” she asked herself. “No, if I’m buzzed when I show up they’ll assume rock star cliches about me.”

It seemed ridiculous she was anxious. It wasn't like this was a group of strangers. Layla would be there. They regularly hung out when Magenta was in town—moreso now Layla lived with Warren, who had a decent living room for video game nights. Dorm apartments were only almost big enough to live in.

She struck out for the hotel bar, but ordered an espresso macchiato instead of liquor. A different kind of buzz would have to do.

There had been debate among the reunion committee, apparently, about having it in the Sky High gym. But aside from the fact that their first dance in the gym had been crashed by a villain, and afterward never felt quite the same to them again, there was the issue of getting a group of adults onto a shuttle in a timely manner. So instead the party was being held at a banquet hall. Because there were some security-risk people in their number, like Stronghold, it was a banquet hall in a government building where they could hire a few bouncers and be fairly assured that any intruder would at least be seen entering, and hopefully heard.

It also meant approaching the place felt a little like walking up to a bank. It looked fancy but not particularly welcoming.

Once she'd followed a couple she didn't recognize from behind to the actual banquet room, though, the crowd was a little less overpolished. Stronghold himself was apparently watching the entrance like a hawk. He bounded over to shake Magenta’s hand with a big grin, and then decide they should hug instead. He was wearing one of the signature Stronghold-color sweatshirts (where did he get those? Were they special made? She had never wondered about this until now) and carpenter jeans that surely were no longer being sold in stores.

“It’s so good to see you. How have you been? A band, right? You’re in a pretty big band! How is that?”

This kind of clueless greeting would be more annoying if Will weren't so incredibly sincere. He was owning that he hadn't been paying close attention, but that now, in this moment, he was interested in hearing more. She knew they'd be cut off before she said anything significant, but that he'd remember anything she did manage to say.

"Yeah, we've been touring most of this year. Feel like we're really building a good fanbase that shares a lot with each other, not just people who come to our concerts, now."

"That's awesome. Must feel great to kind of connect people. Oh, hey, have you talked to Freya? She's just back from teaching violin in Poland! As a cover for her other work, of course. You guys should talk!"

Magenta felt like this was the kind of tenuous connection neither she nor Freya would value the way Will thought they might, but she didn't resist. When reintroduced by Will, it became clear that he had heard about as much from Freya of her life as he had from Magenta. Magenta recognized her as the ice-power girl who had been held back to their grade after the second half of her sophomore year had been dedicated to recovering from a concussion and reconstructive surgery after a particularly poorly thought-out gym activity. Though Freya was a classical musician working as a superhero and Magenta was just a rock bassist, after a few awkward exchanges they discovered a shared a passion for the same fantasy thriller TV shows. They talked vampire casting aesthetics until Freya's old best friend arrived and pulled her away to get drinks.

Magenta both wanted a drink and wanted to not get tipsy around people so soon. Why was Layla not here yet? She was usually timely. Maybe she had tried to convince Warren to come--a losing proposition. There were few things Warren hated more than school functions, and one of those things was making nice at a stilted party. This was both of those things. Love blinded people, so Layla still tried to talk him into stuff he didn't want. As far as Magenta could tell, Warren got his way when he cared about something enough, but a lot of the time he was happy to do whatever Layla cared about.

Magenta had always really gotten Warren's antisocial bit. She'd just never had the balls to go hard-mode with it the way he did.

As she was trying to judge what circle it would pain her least to linger her way into when she heard an unfamiliar voice behind her say, "Hey Maj, how's it going?"

For a second (later she couldn't say why) she looked into the smiling face without recognition. Finally, though, logic suggested that a black young man in this somewhat white-washed crowd could only be one person. This took a split-second only, then she was ashamed. It was the overall expression of his face that confounded her most--by graduation he'd been already considerably taller and socially graceful. This man, though, had self-awareness.

"Hey!" she said, as if she hadn't missed her beat. "Please tell me the rumors are true and the cash bar isn't too far from here."

"I think it's true, but I cannot confirm," Ethan said, "I don't drink anywhere there are so many supers all together."

"That seems wise," she said.

[thelimeonade]

Introducing my WIPs

As requested by the very welcoming, funny @zburatorii

Evolve: to forget is my current online WIP! You can find it on Wattpad by clicking on here! It is the first part of a trilogy! It’s dystopian\Utopian along with adventure, fiction with side themes such as thriller, romance. The book revolves in the future after WW8 has been declared over, leaving mankind on the verge of extinction and now all inhabiting a small area in, what was previously known as, Western Europe. They are now all united under one flag, one crown, one government: The United Kingdom of Mekar. -->Le blurp\Description: Man's greed for power and dominance has always been the reason. The greatest proof of this is the Era of the inhumane, barbaric World Wars which sent mankind scuttling to unite their numbers to avoid extinction. Limited to a small area in - what was once - Western Europe, a new civilization awoke: The United Kingdom of Mekar. Divided into eight sections plus the Royal Capital of Orbis. The most brutal, yet efficient, way of survival where 'To Forget is To Evolve', with it the past has been demolished with ferocity to avoid another uprising risking their extinction. Many believe that those ways are effective. But there are others who strongly beg to differ; however, they can't expose themselves as it meant risking their lives. Emilia Adonis, a 25 year old woman from Hell-Bay, the most discarded section of Mekar, has been chosen by King Jayden to represent her section in The Versency - the royal race that takes place every time the King or Queen of Mekar dies. The greatest event in the history of the Kingdom where death becomes your constant companion with the final line either being your ultimate death in the most gruesome way, or the throne of Mekar. With the fate of thousands of Hell-Bayers resting on her shoulder, Emilia strives to reach the throne and end the period of negligence that loomed over the section ever since its formation (due to the fact that no Hell-Bay contestant has ever won The Versency). She teams up with Zain and Hailey Hill, twins from Hell-Bay whose future is also dependent on the throne. They all face problems igniting between them along with the trail of mercenaries and royal beasts unleashed on the contestants. But what exactly happens when a lot more than beasts are threatening your life? When those who abide by the system meet the rebels? When the past clashes with the present, affecting the future and nothing is as it seems? When the race becomes a prison with no way out whether you win or lose? [P.s. Thanks to @mediocre-prose for promoting this book]

Pontifex this is an under-development book that is not published online nor is placed on draft; however, all the ideas and main plot points are written down in a notebook. This book is action\crime following serial killer and hit-man Xavier Pontifex also known as The Phoenix who has been active for over a total of twenty years without leaving a single trace behind. It’s part one of a two book series. [Second book follows Xavierre Pontifex, his daughter] --> le blurp\Description: Xavier Pontifex: A man who has the looks, the charm, the strength, the agility, the wit and the reflex to rule the entire world single handed without failing. He may look like the typical person, with a normal job, but what he harbors underneath is much darker. Being a professional killer, a hit-man, a serial killer that leaves no piece of evidence or trace behind, sending the world into chaos as they try to find out his identity, labeling him as ‘The Phoenix’ always comes with a price. From the streets of Florence, Italy to those of New York, U.S.A. we follow Xavier Pontifex on his journey for self-comfort and ridding himself of the demons in his head, his own twin brother. Facing more conflicts than ever and realizing that the rule ‘Only a life can pay for another’ is much more than it really is…

Onyx Ivories is an online work on Wattpad that is on pause and editing since I realized that dumbass me forgot to write down VERY IMPORTANT KEY POINTS THROUGHOUT THE BOOK and now shit is ruined. It’s an action fiction but you won’t find that out until the second part in the book [Since the book is split into two major parts and an epilogue] P.s. the blurp is misleading (because I am an evil writer) You can check itout by clicking here!! --> le blurp\Description: Aqua Abraham steps off the bus into Pyro Camp where she intends to achieve all her dreams with one stone - winning her Ex back, Julian Monroe, as well as a scholarship. By rolling her onyx 5 ten-sided dice given to her on her first night, she's given one unique 5-digit code that's her key to everything around the camp along with adventures, little does she know the secrets that the code with the dice hold. It won't only lead her to all her dreams but also something much bigger.

Extinct Galactic MY BABY, MY PRIDE AND JOY, MY MOST DEVELOPED LIL CUPCAKE WHO I AM INTENDING FOR PUBLISHING!!!! It’s a four to six book series!!! And the plot and idea is too big to fit here but I’ll be sharing Excerpts of it here! (better than the last shitty one that you can read over here, I promise) It’s a sci-fi\Fantasy series THAT WILL BLOW YOUR WIG OFF ALL THE WAY TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE UNIVERSE!!! [Hopefully....] For more details click heeeereeee!! (p.s. Characters page is still a wip) --> faint blurp: When the Creator of all Life –Pratham– is gone, killed by the Council of the Universe, and Death–Azazel lives on, the Council would do anything to right their wrong before Azazel’s darkness wipes the entire universe out.  Including exterminating an entire race, an entire galaxy to find life again. --> a few quotes:  “Perhaps we were created to die in order to right a wrong. We were never meant to exist.” -Aximus Power [Book Character] “Today, we write history. We will no longer be degraded as Dunams, we will show them what mankind, children of Milkyway, has to offer of courage, loyalty and wits.” -Kahera [Book Character] “I didn’t know what you have done to save us. I only saw a self-centered, demanding, spoiled brat Queen on a throne... not the selfless warrior who drained herself every single day to keep us alive in secret.” -Ximen Cysgod [Book Character] “You have disowned her, you have treated her like scum, you have let her die in vain, you didn’t do shit to stop Jobiia from taking her when she had given up everything to save us! To save the people who had abandoned her! and now you dishonor her last wishes? How fucking dare you?” -Frontress Pulse [Book Character]

yes I have a wip that’s based off Egyptian Mythology but no details yet

I have a million old ideas that I am thinking about rewriting but let’s just get through this first

I also have a sappy romance novel that.... will never see light

Welp. That’s all for now!!!!

As you can see I am quite experienced in multiple genres so I can give you a billion tips on how to survive!

Tell me which WIP is by far the one you are most excited to read!!!

Please reblog and/or like this if you like my WIPs introduction and want to see more! Follow me if you are feeling kind and I’ll follow you back and whoever reblogs this!!!

I LOVE YOU ALL *drops microphone*

Feel free to send me any questions, requests, asking for help, compliments, whatever you like by clicking here!

For my latest Tips on ‘How to write an Evil character’ click here!

For more about me click here!!!

For my Lime-blr (Writeblr) intro, click here!! [idk why I added it... just felt like it]

[more--than--anything]

Episode Review: "So I guess it's game on." [S04E07]

We had to wait like seventy years for this episode—okay, two weeks but it certainly felt longer—but the question is, was it worth the wait?

Y: I hate hiatuses. But this one wasn’t too bad—not like the month we are going to have to endure after 4.08—and the wait was totally worth it. I think I have read a lot of people come out and say 4.07 has been the best yet in season four, and I find myself agreeing with that sentiment.

L: I won’t argue! We’ve been waiting all season long for Weller to put the pieces together and confront Jane, and this episode did not disappoint. We had two (or three) exciting cases, terrorists after a mystery weapon, amazing dialogue, and someone tried to blow up Weller. That’s how you know it’s a good Friday, right?

Since this week’s episode didn’t exactly follow the typical “case of the week” format, as characters paired off in pursuit of their own goals, let’s break things down that way, starting with the recently fired/unfired Reade and the smarmy Matthew Weitz. After a short discussion about what to order for dinner, these two waste no time on their new mission: beating the CIA in the race to find Tasha.

Y: We voiced our excitement last week about the potential of the Weitz/Reade pairing, and their first outing together did not fail. There’s something about these two being almost polar opposites that makes this pairing that much more fun to watch. One of my favorite snippets from the episode was when Matthew sits uncomfortably close to Reade on the couch, and Ed just slowly slides away. Even in his physical “humor” Reade/Rob delivers in such a dry, unassuming way, and it perfectly highlights the difference between the two men—Weitz is so unbearably in-your-face while Reade is far more proper and subtle. But somehow, united with the same goal of finding Tasha—and hopefully saving her from the wrath of the CIA—these two have managed to find a way to work together. And Reade has also found how to make the best of Weitz’s annoying habits.

L: Weitz is still apparently determined to help Reade save Tasha from the CIA—which is probably a good thing, because from Reade’s perspective, Tasha broke up his relationship with Meg, slept with him, gave him the brush off, and then showed up just long enough to point a gun at him and destroy his career at the FBI. I don’t think anyone would blame him if he decided to just forget he’d ever met someone named Tasha Zapata. But then Weitz shows up and reminds Reade that if he walks away, the CIA will probably bring Tasha back in a body bag. This is exactly the reality check Reade needs. He can work through his complicated emotions later, once he knows Tasha is safe.

But I’ll be honest, I’m still not entirely sure why Weitz is so determined to save Tasha. We understand Reade’s motivation here, but Weitz? It’s pretty clear that he’s the kind of guy who does whatever benefits him the most, and rescuing a disgraced CIA agent isn’t going to do much for his political standing (and failing could be disastrous for him). The more I watch Weitz, the more he’s starting to remind me of Rich (with a slightly more appropriate filter in place). Just like Rich, Weitz was basically going along, doing whatever would reap him the greatest rewards (although his goals were more career-oriented than monetary). And then, like Rich, Weitz somehow they got mixed up with our team of badged crusaders, who go out and risk their lives every day to put bad guys behind bars, collect their non-impressive government salaries, and go home. And now suddenly Weitz is getting in touch his moral compass, too. They are both still themselves, still slightly over the top in Rich’s case and snarky and smarmy in Weitz’s, but like Rich, Weitz seems to be turning out to be a decent guy. Will it last? I guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Also, it must be said that Aaron Abrams is absolutely dynamite in this role. His body language—getting too cozy with Reade on the sofa and his obvious discomfort with the seating arrangements in Madeline’s office—is almost as hysterical as his snarky dialogue delivery.

I thought Weitz had fired Reade last week, but apparently he has just been suspended. Interesting. I wonder if Sabrina Larren knows that? She was pretty insistent that Weitz fire Reade outright. She’s not going to be too thrilled that the door is still open for his return. I wonder how long it will be before she catches wind of their plans and turns up again to make everyone’s lives miserable.

Y: Since they don’t have the CIA’s resources, working out of Reade’s tiny apartment, and also we assume they don’t have the insider information as to what is really happening with Tasha, Weitz and Reade really have to think outside the box and make big moves without causing any ripples that might catch Larren’s attention. And I think it was pretty genius that they used the same tactic that Madeline Burke initiated a few episodes back when she declared that she was cleaning up the mess Crawford had left behind at HCI. Luckily for Reade, Weitz has this unenviable talent of knowing how to be an annoying thorn in someone’s side until he gets what he wants. And honestly, I think I have figured out how he has managed to get all these high ranking jobs all these years. He just annoyed someone until that person could not stand him anymore and offered to ship him on to a new fancy job just to get rid of him.

And oddly enough, after just one visit, Madeline does just that. She realizes what kind of person Weitz is—self-centered, egotistical and career-driven—and she throws him something that might be just a little too tempting. She offers to help him get the ultimate prize of all—POTUS. Now the question isn’t so much if Madeline can do that, but rather, will Weitz be tempted to switch teams? And now, after he just declared his allegiance to Team FBI? I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

But more important than Madeline’s offer to Weitz is the little nugget of intel they get after spending hours sorting through the boxes and boxes of papers she handed over. After weeks of hearing the mysterious name “J.B.,” we finally identify him and get a break in the hunt for Tasha. Honestly, in what has felt like week after week of nothing but hitting brick walls, this feels like such a huge victory. Reade and Weitz identify J.B. as Madeline’s pilot and they also find out where their next planned trip is headed. And just like Weitz, I want to get on a plane right now and follow them and just bring Tasha back home!

I have to say I am so proud of Reade for keeping his head during this whole ordeal, not becoming too emotional and not strangling Matthew Weitz. And even more proud of him for finding out just how to make the most of Weitz’s “talents” and using them to their advantage.

L: I feel like Reade and Weitz need a ship name. They’re like the unlikely cop duo, forced to work together, who develop a grudging respect for each other. Mattgar? Edthew? Meade? Reitz? Help me out here.

Weitz wasn’t all that wrong when he called them “good cop/bad cop” in the last episode. Weitz is the consummate politician who will do or say whatever he has to in order to achieve the results he wants. That’s why he usually comes out on top, or at least in the times we’ve seen him lock horns with our team in the past. But Reade is more of a straight shooter. He’s not going to lie, even to Weitz, the guy who holds his career in his hands. He tells Weitz straight up that he doesn’t trust him, adding, “I just want to make sure we do this right.” So far Weitz seems to be playing on the level with Reade. He admits that Madeline offered to help him get elected president, which we know must be a seriously tempting offer for someone as career-driven as Weitz. And Weitz couldn’t really turn her down, not if he wants her to keep playing ball with him (and honestly, right now I think he might be the FBI’s best chance of getting to her). But he seems almost hurt that Reade doesn’t trust him. So... do I think Weitz will do what is best for himself? Probably. But will he sacrifice Reade and or Tasha in order to do it? A few weeks ago, I would have said, “Yes,” with zero hesitation. But now? I’m not sure. I’ve got to admit, I am looking forward to see how all this plays out!

I also must admit that I would love to see Weitz as president next season. I mean, if anyone can uncover dirt on Orion, it would be the office where it all started, right? Plus, just imagine the fun this writing team would have, poking holes in the Weitz administration. Can I put this in my letter to Santa?

And since they cross paths with Weitz and Reade, let’s discuss Madeline Burke and Tasha Zapata’s adventures this episode. After weeks of jumping around the globe, not only did these two stay in one city this week, they almost literally stayed in the same room. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t up to a bunch of no good.

Y: I am going to go ahead and say it. I don’t think we have ever seen Tasha Zapata so… uncomfortable, ever, doing anything, as we saw her in this episode. Yes, we have seen flashes of that in previous episodes, mostly when no one was looking or after she has had to do something she was clearly not proud to do, but we have never seen her outright try to go against Madeline or voice her disapproval or try to get out of doing something. But this week she did. And I don’t know about you, but I would like to hold onto that as proof that Tasha has not joined the dark side and is in fact deep undercover for the CIA. It wasn’t just once that she “defied” Madeline in this episode. She repeatedly let her feelings be known, whether about the poor hacker who was only looking for an honest payday, or about crashing the plane, trying to make Madeline follow a different—less murder-y—approach. But the most important thing is Tasha finally asking the question we have all been asking for weeks. Why, Madeline, why? Why are you doing all this?

And we were so close to getting a really answer, but apparently getting interrupted at crucial moments is not just a feature exclusive to Jeller. Madeline begins to tell Tasha why she’s doing all this but then they get interrupted by Matthew showing up. Revenge. That’s all we got from Madeline. It isn’t much but at least we know that she’s not just being evil because she’s bored of her book club. But revenge for what? And against whom? We don’t know., but at least we got something. And that is a start.

And you have to at least respect Madeline that in her quest for vengeance, she refuses anything that isn’t the best. She could’ve easily hired Leo, he seemed competent and confident enough, and I am sure he could’ve gotten the job done. But as she tells Tasha, why settle for a copycat when we can get the real thing? Her insistence on using the best hacker out there makes me think again that her putting Tasha and Claudia together was some sort of test for both women. I think she always wanted one of them to kill the other by the end of that assignment to make sure her righthand woman was the best of all the available options.

Which, you know, only makes me more worried for Tasha, which is basically my default mode week after week.

L: Worry for Tasha is a constant these days.

Her default expression now seems to be “WTF, Madeline?” And honestly, I feel ya, Tasha.

First Mad Maddie wants Tasha to crash a plane. Then when Tasha brings her a hacker with the talents to do exactly that, Madeline has her henchman give him “the full treatment” to ensure that he doesn’t talk to anyone ever about his microscopically brief HCI job history. (I feel like Madeline’s not gonna get a great review on glassdoor.com?) Hey, it’s been a few minutes since Madeline killed anyone. Maybe she was starting to have withdrawal symptoms?

Apparently Madeline wants Tasha to go get her the name brand—the hacker who wrote the charmingly-named “Waldoballz” algorithm that the newly-hired-slash-deceased hacker was going to use. The leading brand is a hacker known as Del Toro, currently under exclusive contract with the Sabinito drug cartel, hacking such targets as the Mexican government, the DEA, and the ATF, as well as using “Waldoballz” to crash planes belonging to rival cartels. Tasha will have to go to Mexico and make friends with the Cartel and convince them to partner up with HCI Global so they can borrow their in-house hacker. Madeline announces that she’s coming along, telling Tasha, “you’re gonna need all the help you can get,” in a fun parallel to Weitz, who says the same thing to Reade. Looks like Mexico City is the place to be on Friday night. This is gonna be one helluva double date.

This week we discover that Mad Maddie has been waiting thirty years for revenge. On someone, for something. And yes, she’s scary and obviously completely batshit insane... but she’s still not quite in the same league as Shepherd or Crawford. Revenge is a pretty personal thing, affecting an individual or at most, a group. Compared to plans to institute a new world order or to nuke the top level of US government, this goal seems smaller and less world-changing in its reach. And in turn, it makes her less threatening than her predecessors in the Big Bad chair. Thirty years ago, Madeline would have been a young woman, maybe not long out of college or newly married. She’s already killed her husband, thus presumably exacting her revenge on him. Hank Crawford is dead, and she killed off his daughter, too, so the Crawfords have been suitably punished. Who’s left? Her mean college sorority sisters? The guy who dumped her right before homecoming? I’m still not really finding her to be a chilling villain on the scale set by Shepherd and Crawford—but in the interest of full disclosure, I’m so freaked out by Remi this season, I’m almost relieved not to have to deal with an ultra-terrifying Big Bad, too.

Another pair who stayed put this week—not unlike most other weeks—are Patty and Rich who went on a little treasure hunt through the NYO, thanks to a clue Roman left for them in the Tokyo cache. It wasn’t the slumber party Rich hoped for, but it did end with probably the first nugget of good news we’ve received all season.

L: Of course, Rich made a movie about the Book of Secrets. And of course, it’s in 3D. (And now I’m wondering if this book has not only the cure for Jane’s ZIP poisoning, but for cancer as well. Because that would be a really cool season finale. And actually, someone suggested that Rich had started trying to find the Book of Secrets to try to save the person whose bedside he attended, and this is now my head canon for him, to be honest.) Patterson is mildly impressed with the fancy graphics, but she’s even more excited when the 3D sea turtles remind her of the cursor used in the Logo programming language. One of the images they found in the drive they retrieved in Tokyo consists of a series of sports jerseys, with four different mascots (a fox, a bear, a leopard, and a rhino) in varying colors. Patterson figures out that the mascots correspond to directions (forward, backwards, left, and right) and the hue of colors resolve to distance measurements. The pattern resolves to the “star of life,” the symbol commonly used to indicate emergency medical services, suggesting that the indicated cache contains medical information, likely information on ZIP poisoning. The Tokyo cache also yielded a graphic of a cartoon seal, in the same colors as the FBI seal in the lobby, indicating that their search should start there. “I am a big fan of your brain,” Rich tells Patterson, after she puts all the pieces together, and really, aren’t we all?

Rich seems positively giddy at the idea of an all-nighter. And especially in light of his rather, er, desperate attempts to get in touch with Boston, it makes me wonder if going home to his empty safe house every night is wearing away at Rich. (And speaking of Boston, is anyone else just a wee bit concerned by his apparent absence. I mean, yes, it’s highly possible that he is following orders and is safely tucked away in his safe house, avoiding Rich’s calls. But it’s also possible that dealing with Remi has gotten him in trouble way over his head. Must I worry about all of these children all the time, even the convicted felons?!)

Following Roman’s directions, Rich and Patterson end up at a location in the middle of the SIOC bullpen. Raise your hand if you, too, suspected they would find something in the electrical outlet. I mean, thanks to this show, we now looking at air ducts in a whole new light (you can escape through them, hide money and fake ID’s in them... really, the possibilities are endless), so I guess electrical outlets seem an equally likely storage location. But despite Rich’s enthusiasm for wielding a pickaxe (from Briana’s locker, apparently... I wonder what her FBI therapist thinks about her trauma coping mechanisms?), the location doesn’t yield anything... until Patterson realizes it might not be a place but a person, specifically the person whose desk used to be located there. The Wonder Twins haul the hapless analyst into an interrogation room, and I kind of want Rich to conduct all interrogations at the FBI now. Patterson realizes that they were traipsing all over the building through all the areas that this guy had access to and that the clue must be pointing to his access badge, which she destroys in order to expose the memory chip hidden inside. And I am really glad that this guy took such good care of his badge in the months since Roman hid the chip. (Although the poor guy is dressed for work at midnight, so either his job really sucks, or he’s the kind of guy who irons and puts on a tie when hauled out of bed in the middle of the night... which I guess indicates that he’s responsible enough for unknowing custody of it?)

The drive is filled with medical information: Brain scans, drug trials, research on experimental procedures, etc. Sadly, no file that says, “Recipe for the cure to ZIP poisoning,” but they do seem to be closer than they were before. So this second case of the week does seem like a win for our team, or at least for the Wonder Twins. (Maybe they’re the FBI Brainpower Couple?)

Now if only their patient hadn’t just absconded...

Y: If it weren’t for the Kurt and Remi/Jane storyline in this episode, I would have said the Rich/Patterson story was the best thing ever. But it has to come a very close second mostly because, well, the A-Plot this week was A++ and this plot was sadly only an A+! You can never go wrong when you pair up these two and send them on a nerdy adventure, and when it is one designed by Roman just for the two of them? Come on, you’re just teasing me now.

I love a good treasure hunt. And I love when they tap into the nerdiness and the endless fun it ensues. Patterson was right when she said no one loves puzzles as much as she does—except for Roman, and I have a feeling he especially enjoyed designing this one. It’s funny because those two never really met except in passing a few times when they let Roman leave his glass cell in season two, but they do have a very close relationship through the tattoos and the puzzles that Roman has left for her over the years. It’s like Roman and Patterson are closer every time she solves a puzzle, and in the process of doing that, she is in a constant conversation with him. And now I am feeling sad about my ship that never happened. RIP Patterman, you will always live in our head canons and Patterson’s coma-induced dreams.

There is no denying that whenever the Wonder Twins take center stage it means we are in for a treat. But that treat is usually interrupted by them having to stop every so often to explain things to the rest of the team, which is also entertaining, but seeing them like this, in their element and uninterrupted, was just pure gold. The Patterson/Rich pairing is the best thing to happen to this show since Kurt Weller’s incompetence at buttoning up his shirt.

Rich making a 3D movie about the Book of Secrets is genius, and I am slightly miffed at Patterson that we did not get to see the rest of it. And I agree, behind all his “let’s have fun” attitude and his seeing this as a fun adventure trying to find a valuable antique, there has to be something pure and genuine in his search, whether it is for Jane or the mysterious person he had spent time with while sick. Underneath all that inappropriate, fun-seeking- debauchery, there is a sweet, caring person who wants to protect the people he cares about. We’re on to you, Gord.

And I’ve been thinking about the poor guy they hauled in and accused of either working with Roman or being in love with him—and speaking of which can we please have Patterson and Rich conducting every interrogation from now on?—and I wanted to feel bad for him that he seemed to be dressed for work, but then when I rewatched the episode I realized that SIOC seems pretty full of agents in the middle of the night. And not only agents, Patterson also seemed to find a handyman on duty. These people are so dedicated to their jobs, it’s quite impressive.

Speaking of dedicated, it’s been a while since Rich has made any embarrassingly inappropriate comments about Jeller. But I’m glad we did not have to wait longer than seven episodes for him to bring up their sex life. And I wonder just how disappointed he’d be to find out that their evening of being tied up did not exactly go as he would have imagined it.

And finally, our last pair this week is Kurt and Jane—well, Kurt and Remi. I guess with the things went down in this episode, there’s no point pretending anymore, is there? The FBI’s favorite power couple had quite the evening, in every way possible.

Y: You know that flailing Kermit gif, right? And you know that has been my general state since I watched the episode, right? I just cannot get over how good this was, both store-wise and character-wise. The case was just a the perfect vessel to carry everything else, and it allowed us to see Supervisory Special Agent Kurt Weller doing what he does best while carrying the emotional baggage he was carrying, and if there was ever a moment for Sullivan Stapleton to shine, this is it. And add to that the fact that Jaimie also brought her A-game… I swear I can watch this episode a thousand times a day and still never get bored of it.

We don’t need reminding that Kurt is the best at his job but there’s also nothing wrong in watching him do what he was born to do. We always talk about how incredible the Wonder Twins are at what they do, because they are given moments to shine and excel and same with Jane being a badass or Reade being the boss or Tasha… you know… being Tasha. But we don’t often see Kurt these days stand in the spotlight and remind us just why he was considered the superstar of the NYO when we first met him. I know, I know, I’m just gushing about Kurt here and not really adding anything useful to the discussion but come on, did you watch the episode? Did you not see him singlehandedly own the day? Yes, Remi was there and she did help, but she was too busy rolling her eyes and being a brat trying to get under his skin to participate in the badassery of solving the case.

Although the fight scene in the apartment was all kinds of epic, and I would watch these two fight bad guys until my dying breath and still be wanting more. And just as incredible as it was to watch them physically beat the crap pout of other people, it was as satisfying watching them go head-to-head, and heart-to-heart, and the confrontation we’ve been waiting for for almost two months, the epic Remi vs. Kurt, finally happened, and it did not disappoint.

L: We pick up with Jeller right where we last saw them: Remi is having a bad day, what with her husband getting all suspicious about her super-secret terrorist plans, which quickly morphs into a worse day when she and Kurt are attacked in their home by an evil fake babysitter and some thugs under the command of a blond Buffy lookalike named Eve who needs to make it up to our favorite multipurpose terrorists, the Dabbur Zann, for losing their money. (And I kind of love that they chose a blond woman for the role of villain in this episode. I mean, if the FBI was going to use racial profiling to figure out who was in control of a terrorist bank, Not-Buffy would be pretty much dead last on their list.) In lieu of being able to return the Dabbur Zann’s money, Eve decides to use Remi and Weller to break into a vault in an FBI evidence facility to procure something that will appease them. And to convince the Wellers to go along with her scheme, she outfits them with matching FBI vests rigged with explosives.

Kurt and Remi are able to talk their way past the guard manning the gate, who recognizes his “favorite FBI power couple.” (Do they have a fan club at the FBI? Is Rich the president? He must be.) Sadly for Mikey-the-security-guard, instead of bringing him coffee, Kurt knocks him out. But I’m actually more worried about the guy that Remi takes care of, because, unlike Kurt, she has no reason to hold back and make sure he’s okay. Although as we’ve noted before, thus far Remi has walked a very fine line with regard to the FBI. She’s certainly done plenty of things she shouldn’t have, but she’s steered shy of actually killing FBI employees, as we saw during her efforts to incite panic during the biohazard lockdown. But now that she’s been exposed by Weller, all bets are off.

Weller opens the door to the vault, but only after warning Eve about the hidden security cameras inside it, which he supposedly signed off on during his time as Assistant Director. Now I’m guessing that he just made that up on the spot, after watching the footage Eve showed him, but even if she doesn’t believe him, Eve has no choice but to assume that it’s true. (This also indicates that she plans on blowing up Weller and Remi as soon as they’re done, as Weller quickly figures out, since they would be able to easily identify her after the fact.) Eve sends Weller and Remi in and gives them 60 seconds to locate the item she is after. (And damn, that’s a lot of evidence, judging by the size of the vault. So honestly, I’m not sure why they didn’t just slap some duct tape over the identification code on the box and bury it in the back somewhere, you know, just past the Ark of the Covenant.)

As soon as they are alone in the vault, Weller checks Remi’s vest and finds an anti-tamper trigger. (I love that the only possible way he can check inside the back of Remi’s vest is by standing in front of her and wrapping his arms around her.) Without time to disable them, they locate the antennas that will receive the signal from the detonator, which they block with duct tape and then hold each other close as they wait to see if they die. (Which wouldn’t be a romantic moment for pretty much any other couple, but these guys count defusing bombs as foreplay, so...) Crisis averted for the moment, Weller disables the anti-tamper device so they can remove the vests, then locates the device Eve is after. He disassembles the vests so he can use the C4 to build a bomb to blow a hole in the wall so they can escape the vault. (And also to boobytrap the box before Eve gets her hands on it, unbeknownst to Remi.) Remi and Kurt escape just as Eve and company break into the vault. They take out two of Eve’s henchmen, getting their hands on one of the detonators, but just as they reach an outside door, the rest of the gang pulls up outside. Remi sends Weller to look for another exit, telling him that she’ll take the case, but instead she opens the door, pointing her gun at Weller to prevent him from stopping her as she pushes the case outside. She shoves the case at Eve and takes off. Eve loads the case into the back of her SUV, but Weller blows the whole thing up before she can get away. (Good thing our mystery device wasn’t a nuclear bomb or a chemical weapon, right?)

So our FBI Power Couple defeats the Dabbur Zann (again), but it’s hard to claim this one as a win, with Weller losing Jane in more ways than one. And now he’s in the unenviable position of having to stop Remi without actually hurting her. Maybe he and Reade can form a club? Broken-hearted federal bounty hunters?

Y: ::pops the popcorn into the microwave:: I would definitely watch the hell out of that, especially if Kurt Weller is the same no-nonsense, badass, snarky, smart Kurt Weller from this episode, who won’t take shit from anyone and is also so confident in his wife’s love for him, in what they have, and so in love with her and relentless in his fight to bring her back. Give me that Kurt Weller every day.

Well, Kurt was exceptionally exceptional this week. He thwarted a terrorist plot, he confronted and exposed Remi’s lies, he made diffusing a bomb unbearably sexy, and he once again gave it his all for his bid for Husband of the Year. But at the end of the day, he came home alone to a ransacked apartment, and once again, his wife has technically left him. What’s next for our Grumpchkin?

Y: Oh, look at this, another section where I can shamelessly ramble on about how much I love Kurt Weller. Like I ever need an excuse to get up on my Kurt Weller soapbox. But seriously, it’s been so long since we’ve seen Kurt Weller own an episode like this one.

I want to start with this—I’ve read from a few people that they thought Kurt’s reaction or the way he dealt with Remi was a bit harsh in the sense that he was repeatedly blunt when telling her that she is not Jane or that there is no part of Jane in her or that she is nothing like Jane. I kind of disagree with this. I’m not saying it did not sting to hear him say those things, but what I am saying is that it was the right reaction to have. I think the entire time, Kurt dealt with Remi and “fought back” in the best way possible. I’m actually quite proud of how he dealt with the situation.

He somehow managed to balance dealing with Eve and dealing with Remi—two women who kind of want him dead—in the most excellent way possible.

No one can envy Kurt for the position he has found himself in—finding out the truth about Remi and uncovering all the lies, manipulation, and betrayal of the past months. But he kept his cool and played along and he matched her every move with his. And at times, he faced her harshness with harshness of his own, but he also tried to reach out to her and his tenderness was always there, maybe not in the same ways we are used to, but it was still there. Kurt knows this is still his wife, and he would never ever cross that line. He was brutal when he told Remi that there is no part of Jane in her, but he also reminded her of her inability to use the poison needle on him, effectively telling her that there is a part of Jane in her still calling some of the shots.

I just love how he balanced his approach towards Remi. I think it was the right way to go. He does not want to push her away, but he also wants her to know that he will fight back. He wants to break through her walls and get to that heart he knows so well, but he also wants her to have to own up to her actions. He wants her to admit that she’s only a puppet being controlled by Shepherd, but he also wants her to know that she has choices and that only by making her own choices can she be truly free.

He is not going to give up on his wife, he is going to fight for her, but he is also going to push Remi to fight for herself as well. He knows it is not enough that he alone fights. If Remi doesn’t wake up, essentially, from Shepherd’s manipulation then the fight he puts up won’t be enough. I think in a way he wants to get Jane back, but he also wants to help Remi save herself.

L: All of this!

The pacing in this show usually goes at breakneck pace, and Remi’s unmasking is no different. Once Eve flashes her surveillance video at Kurt, showing Remi stealing money from the terrorist bank, he immediately figures out that she’s Remi, conveniently explaining, “I’ve been researching the ZIP drug and memory loss. You know, in some cases, people revert back to an earlier version of themselves, like a record needle skipping back a few tracks.” (Never mind that Jane was supposedly the only person who has ever received such a massive dose of ZIP.) He immediately concludes that Remi is the Sandstorm operative they’ve been hunting for. I’m glad that we didn’t linger in the “Kurt has vague suspicions but doesn’t do anything about them��� stage. Yes, it would build drama, but it wouldn’t fit what we know (and love) about Kurt Weller, namely that there’s a very good reason that he’s such a hotshot FBI agent.

Remi uses her full powers of manipulation, turning things back on Weller and making his mistrust of her the problem, but Weller is able to tune those words out. They must have hurt, coming from the woman he loves, but he’s able to detach from that and focus on what’s going on. And that’s why he is, at his heart, a damned good cop. Because he’s able to see past the posturing and cut to the heart of the matter. Remember the hacker competition in 2.19? “The simplest answer gets you through this door.” Kurt excels at cutting through the bullshit and making split-second decisions that usually end up being the right call. (Unlike Jane, who frequently makes the wrong call, a trait even more apparent in Remi, for all her gifts of manipulation and machination.)

This aspect of Kurt’s character explains why his response to Remi was exactly in character, both for him and for the person he was addressing. Yes, it’s harsh at times, and no, it’s not how he would have talked to Jane, but as he obviously realized: This isn’t Jane. The techniques that he used to get through to Jane won’t work on Remi. Remi doesn’t respect love or gentleness; she’s been programmed to think of those emotions as weaknesses to be hidden. What Remi respects is strength, so that’s what he showed her. Even better, he challenged her, telling her that she was programmed by her mother, and even with all of her programming, she still failed in her mission. And the best part of it is that it works. Remi goes from calling Jane a damsel in distress (which is pretty much the worst insult ever, coming from someone who values strength as much as Remi does) to telling Weller that she and Jane aren’t so different.

So that is Kurt’s biggest advantage right now. He knows Remi better than she knows herself. He knows what makes her tick, but he also knows the feelings that she’s been trained to hide from the world, the ones she might not even acknowledge to herself. He knows how to get to her. And honestly, that might be the one thing that Remi really isn’t prepared for.

Which brings us to Remi. She finally unburdens herself from her Jane Doe-ting housewife act, but things aren’t necessarily any easier now. Her first round with Kurt did not exactly go her way, as much as she’d like to pretend it did. And the return of snarky imaginary Roman is another sign of her deteriorating health. But she’s not exactly the kind to lay down arms and surrender, is she?

L: Can I just say that the best part of Remi’s plans coming unglued is that her precarious position brings back her Roman hallucination. And man, have we missed him! (Both Luke Mitchell’s presence on my screen and Hallucination Roman’s tendency to hurl truth bombs at Remi when she’s least able to dodge them.)

Y: Yes!! We are still not over losing Roman, so we will cling to every time he comes back, even if he is the surest sign that Remi/Jane’s medical condition is betting worse. We just love him so much and are still not ready to say goodbye!

L: Let’s be honest: We will never be ready to say goodbye to Roman.

Hallucination Roman immediately asks Remi if she and Kurt can trust each other if their lives depended on it. And we already know that Remi trusts Kurt. We’ve seen her demonstrate that on multiple occasions. But the question that Remi is asking via her hallucination is: Yes, “Jane” can trust Kurt, but can Remi trust a Kurt who knows she isn’t Jane? She knows that Kurt would die for Jane in a heartbeat. But what about Remi? Is she safe only because she inhabits the body that once belonged to Jane?

I suspect that will be the internal conflict that Remi ends up wrestling with for the remainder of this season: Are Kurt’s feelings (or the team’s friendship, for that matter) only valid for Jane? Or could they also encompass Remi-with-Jane’s-memories? And does she want them to? At this point, clearly, no, she doesn’t. But going forward, I think she’s going to have to wrestle with this question, especially as she becomes aware of the lengths that Weller and the team are willing to go to save her life from the ZIP poisoning.

Roman doesn’t stop with his needling. He outlines an escape scenario, in which Remi can survive, but Weller’s odds aren’t quite so good, a setup that presents Remi’s second quandary: Is she willing to save her own life at the expense of Weller’s? She’s saved from having to answer that one by the appearance of reinforcements who make escaping impossible for the moment, but the question lingers. And in the end, Remi chooses a way out that leaves Weller locked inside the FBI vault—unable to stop her, but also safely out of the danger that Eve and her compatriots represent. Remi is quick to call Kurt and tell him that she won’t hesitate to kill him, but given the almost ridiculous number of opportunities to kill him that she’s already declined, it’s hard to believe that she’s ever really going to be able to go through with it (no matter what the previews would have us believe each week).

And yes, just as Remi’s initial hallucination of Roman indicated that her ZIP poisoning was worsening, his reappearance tells us that her time is running out. She might have been able to will him away temporarily just as she’s been able to force herself to keep going, but the clock is ticking. And that is probably another explanation for her actions in this episode. She can’t afford to waste time. She has to leave Weller and the FBI behind, and go after Shepherd now, while she still can. But as we see, leaving Weller behind isn’t quite as easy as she thought it would be.

Part of me wants to see Remi get the life that she believes she wants. Set Shepherd free and go back to playing second in command to whatever scheme Shepherd concocts, tell herself that the inevitable collateral damage is worth it. This is the life she had, and I want her to realize that it doesn’t really fit her as well as it did before. Because now she knows what it’s like to be on a team that stops the corruption and saves the day and all the innocent people. Now she knows what it’s like to have the kind of job that gives her purpose... and what it’s like to go home at the end of the day with someone she trusts, someone who treats her as an equal, someone who shares his feelings with her and encourages her to do the same, rather than telling her they make her weak.

Because under it all, Remi isn’t Jane anymore, but she also isn’t the same Remi she was. Kurt was exactly right: The old Remi became who she was simply because circumstances prevented her from being anything else. But this Remi has just been through circumstances that allowed her to be someone entirely different. Even without Jane’s memories, she has changed. Right now, she is free from both Shepherd’s influence and the FBI’s. She can make the same choices again, or she can make different ones this time. And what happens when she inevitably gets some of Jane’s memories sprinkled on top?

I can’t wait to find out.

Y: You know what one of the best parts of Remi being made is? She continues to be her evil, smirky, manipulative self, now without having to wait for people to turn their backs, but she’s also met her match in Kurt Weller. I don’t think Remi has ever been in such a position. She’s always been second in command to only Shepherd, and the rest of the Sandstorm soldiers always reported to her and never undermined her or stood up to her. But now in Kurt, she finds herself face to face with quite the formidable opponent on every possible level. And the worst thing is that he can get to her on a level no one has ever been able to before. He rattles her emotionally and mentally in ways no one else ever could before—except maybe Shepherd but not in the same way. And because of what Jane and Kurt have, he knows her in way that can be her undoing, and she knows it even if she’s denying it right now.

The internal conflict that Remi has been having for the past six episodes, sometimes vocalized through the Roman hallucination, but more often left just internal, is now to coming to the surface and being externalized. Kurt is now a physical manifestation of everything she had been struggling with internally, and unlike a voice in her head or an imaginary Roman, she cannot shut him up or banish him. He is saying all the things and arguing all the arguments she has tried to ignore for weeks, and he is not backing down. And worse yet, he knows things and knows her in ways she had not expected and is clearly not comfortable with, which puts Remi in a situation she had not expected or accounted for. For someone who loves meticulous planning and doing things her way, this must be very very upsetting and could maybe push her to act even more recklessly and prone to more mistakes along the way.

Remember the time when Kurt said the best thing and the worst thing that Jane had done to him was get behind the walls he had spent a lifetime building? It had taken him a while to reconcile the fact that it was the best thing that she had done. Well, now Kurt is doing the same to Remi. She hates how easily he is chipping at her walls, how confident he is that he can get behind them and how comfortable he seems to be getting there. But something tells me, sometime down the road, she is going to have to come to the same conclusion that this is also the best thing that he can do to her.

Hopefully that time will come before it is a little too late.

And finally, we find ourselves once again pondering the angsty angsty future of our favorite couple. I’m going to dare say that this episode was surprisingly the most Jeller episode of all the episodes this season because neither of them was pretending anymore and yet somehow… the presence of Jeller as a relationship was pretty strong. That’s something, isn’t it?

L: Man, the Jeller was strong. I mean, desperately clutching someone as you think you’re about to die is kind of a giveaway, don’t you think? But I also love that Remi isn’t anywhere near ready or willing to admit that, and Kurt knows that... and needles her anyway. (And honestly, if that doesn’t scream “married” at you then what will?)

The dialogue between them—while disarming bombs, blowing up walls, and thwarting terrorists; you know, Jeller in their natural habitat—was awesome, and revealed so much about both of them. I loved that Kurt pointed out that Remi was blaming him for going along exactly with the plan that she herself designed. She wants to hate him, but she really hates herself for getting sucked into Jane’s life instead of immediately going along with the plan when Oscar showed up. It’s always so much easier to blame other people than it is to face our own mistakes, especially for someone who despises “weakness” as much as Remi. And Kurt correctly points out that one of the reasons that Jane’s life was so appealing to Remi was because it gave her back the things that had been taken from her: the freedom to make her own choices and to express the kindness and compassion she’d been forced to hide for most of her life.

My favorite bit was when Kurt says, “You’re not an FBI agent. You’re a terrorist.” And Remi replies, “What’s the difference?” That exchange right there sums up so much about both of them. Weller has always been pretty strict in his interpretation of good guys versus bad guys. He concluded that his father was a bad guy and didn’t speak to him for decades. And when Jane was revealed to be someone who had lied to him about who she was, he wrote her off, too. We saw how very long it took him to forgive her and become willing to trust her again. But Remi has an entirely different code of ethics. She learned the hard way that just because someone is on the right side of the law doesn’t mean that they are actually a good guy. She’s seen her fellow SEALS killed by the organization they worked for, seen her country blow up a hospital filled with innocent people. She defines good guys as people who are struggling to overthrow corruption. In the heat of this moment, these positions couldn’t be further apart. But in the long run...

We’ve seen both of them compromise these values before. Jane knew that she’d designed the plan to infiltrate the FBI. She rekindled a romance of sorts with Oscar. And even though Kurt arrested her and turned her over to the CIA, when she escaped, she didn’t come after the FBI or the CIA for revenge. She went after Sandstorm. And even though Kurt knew she was a terrorist, knew that she’d planned the whole mission to pretend to be Taylor and infiltrate the FBI, he was still able to look past that and fall in love with Jane. In the end, they both want the same thing, to end the corruption that rots our government from the inside. They value strength and compassion, intelligence and loyalty. And I think that finding this common ground in their ideologies is going to play a large part in helping them to eventually rebuild the trust between them.

Y: ::sighs heavily and bursts into tears::

Okay, no, but seriously, this was perfect. I have nothing to complain about with regards to what we got. Yes, Jane is still Remi and now Kurt knows so he isn’t acting like the fluffy marshmallow husband we know he loves to be but with all that, dammit, the Jeller is so strong. Once again, we get to see how this relationship is the heart and soul of the show and no matter what happens, they will prevail.

Also, I know they are fictional characters so their finding these life-and-death, bomb-diffusing situations sexual is not as much as a concern for them as it is for us enjoying them so much. Should we be worried? I don’t know… it’s not my fault they are so good! But dammit, that whole “duct tape the antennas and then embrace tightly as the time runs out” was just so insanely hot, wasn’t it?

Every single scene between these two in this episode was everything we could have asked for and more—from the dialogue to the body language to the subtleties of their reactions to the impact of their emotional and psychological punches—everything. The initial stand-off between them before Eve shows up and Remi dropping her Jane act altogether when she feels Kurt is not going back off was just the beginning. And then of course the fight with Eve’s thugs was quintessential Jeller, switching to battle mode almost instantly, regardless of what’s happening, and their instincts kick in, the two of them working together like the perfect partners that they are. And then once Kurt finds the truth and drops the “you’re Remi” on her—he’s just so calm and collected—you can see the wheels turning in Remi’s head as she readjusts, and you can see she is reprogramming her entire strategy. It was just amazing to watch.

And then every single scene after that is just so well played and so raw and real. They are both clearly not holding back anything, but there is also that vulnerability there, both know what is at stake on every level possible and both are weighing their next move carefully. And through all of it, there is that tenderness and that connection that neither can deny or control and that has always been there. They’re both reaching for something but are too scared or too angry or too hurt to grab it.

I just… I just really really loved this episode, everything about it, but especially how strong and how present and how at the core of everything Jeller’s love is and their connection. I know I’ve rambled endlessly, but I don’t think I’ve done this episode justice, and I don’t think I have properly expressed just how much I absolutely loved it, how moved I was by everything in that episode and just… you know??

We know, you get it too. We’re just in time to gulp chocolate and prepare for the next—bigger—dose of angst that the mid-season finale will bring. Are you ready? Is it possible to ever be ready? Together we can make it through this angst-filled finale!

—Laura & Yas