#id like to think he does that a bit less now cos someones watching over him but old habits die hard

[theunconcernedembalmer]

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Lets be real here Martha the true mvp

[baixueagain]

The Gendo & Rei Question, Part III

For the Intro and Part I, go here.

For Part II, go here.

Part III: The Gaze of the Prodigal Son

              Both Rei I and Rei III are “alive” for only a short period, and it is Rei II—the clone active from roughly 2014 through most of 2015—that we as the audience get to know the best. This is also the clone that has the most developed and complex relationship with Gendo, and we learn most of what we know about how Gendo views Rei as a whole from his behaviour with Rei II.

              Rei II and Gendo’s relationship during 2014-15—especially how they feel about it for themselves—is nevertheless one of the more difficult relationships to understand, since they’re two of the most mysterious characters in Evangelion. We rarely get glimpses into Rei’s point of view, and Gendo only truly speaks about his own emotional and psychological state in the final moments of his life during EoE. Even then, he only speaks of his feelings about Yui and Shinji, not Rei. In fact, he virtually never speaks to others about Rei unless he is talking about her involvement with piloting or the HIP. We only get a few glimpses of their direct interactions, and while these are highly charged with multiple layers of innuendo, those same layers of innuendo make the situation all the more opaque.

              One of the best perspectives we have on Gendo and Rei’s relationship, I argue, comes from Shinji. Granted, he’s the main character and most of the story of Evangelion is told from his point of view, but his perception of Gendo and Rei is just as valuable for another reason: he’s an outsider. NERV is by its very nature a place of secrecy and high strangeness, and it stands to reason that most of the people working there have long since become desensitized to their Commander’s odd personality quirks and the strange, solemn girl serving as his first pilot. Even Misato, who has only just recently started working in Tokyo-3 proper, has been in NERV/Gehirn’s general orbit since her childhood and thus seems fairly used to Gendo Ikari’s personality and the odd way things are done under his supervision. But now we have Shinji in the picture, who’s had minimal contact with his father and who has spent most of his life in the “normal” world, sequestered from the truth of the family business. His perspective is that of the everyman, and he is thus primed to see the unusual parts of NERV that other characters take for granted. Moreover, unlike virtually everyone else at NERV (except for Ritsuko, whose perspective I will be addressing in the future), he is uniquely invested in both Gendo and Rei as people: Gendo being his estranged father, and Rei being his co-pilot and thus someone with whom he feels a sense of camaraderie (even if he barely knows her).

              Shinji arrives at NERV shortly after Rei has a serious accident—one that he does not yet know about. His first-ever interaction with Rei happens in tandem with his first interaction with Gendo in years, and this consists of Gendo dangling a wounded, crying girl over Shinji’s head to manipulate him into piloting Unit-01. It is a brutal, cruel tactic, and Shinji seems to recognize this for exactly what it is. He has already accused Gendo of just using him (something to which Gendo openly admits); from his perspective, it at first seems that his father cares just as little for the poor young woman on the gurney who can barely stand, much less pilot.

              This viewpoint is only challenged when, unknown to Gendo, Shinji spots the burn scars covering his father’s palms in Episode 5. His reaction to being told the truth—that Gendo freed the wounded Rei from her overheated entry plug bare-handed (a scene I will discuss in later essays)—clearly stuns him after seeing the cold, calculating way Gendo used her condition to manipulate him earlier. “Father did that?” he blurts out. The concept clearly seems unbelievable to him, defying everything he thinks he knows of Gendo being a heartless, cold, selfish man.

              Interestingly enough, as Ritsuko describes Gendo’s heroic deed to Shinji, the “camera” momentarily moves outside the limits of Shinji’s perspective and shows us what Gendo is doing at that very moment. He is bare-handed (a rarity for him during the A-plot) and for once he has an open, receptive expression on his face as he examines the Angel’s core in obvious wonder and fascination. His lips almost form an excited little smile and the harsh lines of his face are softened. His naked hands touch the core gently, practically caressing it with just his bare fingertips. Considering Evangelion’s repeated use of hand- and touch-related symbolism, it is likely meant to reflect something of his inner emotional world. This is the first time during the A-plot (that is, the plot following Shinji’s perspective and experiences) in which we see Gendo with his emotional guard down. And it comes at the exact moment Shinji learns of his father’s act of self-sacrificial vulnerability for Rei’s sake.

              The idea that his father might allow himself to be hurt for anyone is utterly alien to Shinji, and this in turn is what prompts him to become more curious about Rei. Notably, the next scene is one of immediate contrast: “The burns on his palms are from then,” says Ritsuko, recalling the searing heat of the plug. The shot instantly cuts to a young girl’s body plunging into water. It’s just a small touch, but yet another masterful moment in the way Evangelion uses visual language and careful word choices to create an unspoken discussion on themes. This, we are being told, is going to be an episode about contrasts and subversions. It will also be an episode about sex.

              The poolside scene is the first in which Rei is first explicitly treated as a sexual being—at least from others’ points of view. Shinji is teased twice about his interest in Rei, the first time by his friends Toji and Kensuke, both of whom clearly see Rei as a beautiful (if unapproachable and intimidating) girl. The two of them (being high school boys) describe her body in explicitly sexualized terms, much to Shinji’s embarrassment. At the same time, we’re treated to shots of Rei sitting quietly in her bathing suit, oblivious to their chatter. She is small and vulnerable, but her bare skin and curvy form has still been made into something with sexual energy and potential.

              Back at NERV HQ after school, Shinji watches Rei without her knowledge, still clearly curious about her. Notably, up until this point he has never seen any emotional expressions from her (unless you count her agony in Episode 1). She has kept her distance entirely, and he realizes that despite working together for at least a couple weeks now, he knows virtually nothing about her. There are no relationships in which he can observe her behaviour with others…except for Gendo.

              As he secretly watches within his cockpit, Shinji watches his father approach Rei. Rei suddenly begins acting her age in her body; instead of moving stiffly, she skips and hops eagerly down onto the walkway and begins chatting with Gendo, a cheerful smile on her face and her eyes bright and alert.

              What’s even more shocking to Shinji, however, is Gendo: unlike the scene with the angel core, here Shinji can actually witness his father’s change in demeanour for himself. The Gendo that Shinji knows is a stern, unfeeling man whose rare expressions are that of irritation or a cruel smugness. But as Gendo chats with Rei, his eyes are soft, and a happy smile is on his face. His cheeks even look a bit flushed. Just as important is the way they’re both speaking to each other: although we can’t hear them, we can see their body language and their interaction. They are standing face-to-face, gazing into each other’s eyes, each speaking in turn. They are practically interacting like equals.

              Is it little wonder that Shinji’s jaw is on the floor?

              As always, Anno’s masterful direction creates an unmistakable atmosphere laid across what might otherwise look like a pleasant scene. Shinji’s hidden vantage point, the oblivious radio chatter from the control room, the low single chord of background music, and the fact that we can’t hear a word that Gendo and Rei are saying: all these things contribute to the sensation that we, along with Shinji, have just witnessed something intensely private. Something that neither we nor Shinji were meant to see.

              The scene immediately following this is, once again, Shinji being teased for showing an interest in Rei—this time by two attractive older women. Again the pressure to see Rei as a sexual being is mounted, and the additional overtones of a discussion about sex between a teenager and adults is added. This rapid switch back and forth between Shinji learning about the relationship between Gendo and Rei and being repeatedly asked if he’s interested in Rei himself (all the above scenes take place over the course of about ten minutes) creates an uncomfortable dissonance that charges the episode with a confusing, unnerving sexual tension. At the same time, Rei and Gendo are explicitly brought up and compared to one another: both are terribly awkward, we are told, at life in general. 

              And that’s when the climactic scene of the episode drops on us like a N2, bringing all these interweaving themes to an awkward, disgusting, hilarious, and horrifying head. Shinji goes to Rei’s apartment to drop off her new NERV ID card. Nobody answers the door, which he finds unlocked, so he enters. The room is filthy and spartan; the girl who lives here clearly does not care much about her surroundings or her possessions.

              But Shinji is drawn to the room’s one treasure: a pair of broken glasses carefully set on top of Rei’s dresser. We as the audience are let in on a higher degree of discomfort by knowing something Shinji does not: those once belonged to Gendo, who dropped them when he recklessly pried open the plug door to rescue Rei. Gendo is thus made extremely present in the scene to the audience, even if Shinji cannot sense him.

              I should note here the significance of Gendo’s glasses as a part of his personality. I have noted before that they are an additional layer that he puts on himself as a means of separating himself from others. Though he used to wear clear lenses, after those break he switches to tinted ones, making his expressions even harder to read and representing the increasingly rapid withdrawal of his personal investment and motivations from the rest of NERV and SEELE. His glasses frequently reflect the light, making it difficult to see his eyes even when he’s wearing the clear lenses. The direction of his gaze is thus frequently hidden, and with it his thoughts, feelings, and motives.

              And yet the glasses reflect other things on occasion, too, informing the audience of what Gendo is looking at and what he’s concentrating on. Shots of his face thus have a doubling effect of simultaneously hiding and revealing his gaze: we can see glimpses of what he is gazing at, but only by looking directly at his face and into the glasses which reflect his vantage point. His perspective is simultaneously revealed and hidden.

              So as Shinji approaches the broken glasses on Rei’s dresser, his face is reflected in them—something we rarely (perhaps never?) see happen when Gendo is actually wearing them. His gaze on his son is thus simultaneously present and absent, accentuating the deep dichotomies of their relationship.

              That’s when Shinji does something that feels even more shocking (almost taboo) from the viewpoint of the audience, based on our prior knowledge: he puts them on. It is an incredibly childish gesture, reminding us once again that he’s nothing more than a curious fourteen-year-old boy, but at the same moment he—in the audience’s eyes—becomes his father (emphasized by their similar physical appearance).

              And what is the first thing he sees through his father’s eyes after he turns around and looks behind himself?

              It’s Rei, fully naked, staring back at him.

              Yet at the same time, his view of Rei is blurred and cracked, reminding us definitively that these are not his glasses.

              This, the shot suggests, is not his sight to see. This sight of Rei’s nakedness “belongs” to someone else. Already we are being told exactly what Gendo has seen, how much of it, and that he owns this sight—or at least thinks he does.

              The events that follow are on their surface hilarious due to the awkward nature of the situation, but the staging and shots used (for lack of a better word) are a recollection of the scene down in the cage: Shinji has entered in on something that he should not be witnessing, something that is not for him. Rei strides forward to seize the glasses from him, Shinji slips and topples onto her, his tote catches on her dresser drawer and sends bras and panties flying everywhere. He lands on top of her, covered  in her private items, in a slapstick missionary position with a hand on her breast—and in showing us this, the introductory focus in the pan is of her own hand clutching the glasses. Gendo’s presence is again invoked, even in this deeply awkward, intimate, and violating moment. He is the third, invisible character in this deeply sexually charged scene.

              At the same time, this is the moment where we as an audience begin to see what makes Rei tick. She seems to have no reaction to Shinji seeing her nakedness (leading us, of course, to wonder why), but it is the first moment in which she has a direct emotional reaction to Shinji: anger. But instead of hiding herself, she walks towards him and seizes the glasses away. Shinji walking in on her bathing was not a violation in her eyes, but his wearing his father’s glasses is. Once again, we are given the uncanny message that Rei’s body is treated as a commodity—including by Rei herself. This time, however, we are given an alternative source of her identity. She does not derive her sense of self from her embodiedness, but from something more intangible, represented by the one item in her life treated with reverence: the glasses. She is given her sense of identity through Gendo’s gaze, and it is Shinji’s appropriation of this gaze that she finds violating. Even as Shinji lands on top of her, a hand on her chest, her anger is gone because the issue is resolved: she has the glasses back in her possession and Shinji is no longer invading that space (even as he inadvertently invades other spaces).

              Shinji’s next violation provokes an even stronger response. Despite the horrifically awkward event, it has at least broken the ice, and as they travel together to NERV HQ he begins trying to make conversation about their commonality: Eva piloting. This then invokes the silent third party in this entire exchange: Gendo. Rei asks if Shinji has faith in his father’s work, and when he furiously denies it, she turns, looks him square in the eyes, and slaps him hard across the face.

              And this, of course, seems odd (even humorous) until one realizes why she perceives this as such an insult: she is his father’s work. An insult to her person is of no consequence in her eyes, but an insult to Gendo is an insult to something far more intrinsic to her identity and her emotional world. Between these two scenes, we have seen just how wrapped up Rei’s sense of identity is in Gendo, and in further essays I will argue that the reverse is true as well. Gendo cannot conceive of Rei as existing outside of himself, her identity is so deeply wrapped up in his own. If he ever did conceive of her as a separate being, he will have lost this ability by time Instrumentality arrives.

              Yet at the same time, between all these questions of identity and sexual violation, we see toward the end of the episode that there is a layer that is far more simple and human: Rei takes Gendo’s glasses with her into the entry plug when it’s time for her resynchronization, and she hangs them where she can look at them when she feels afraid.

              Because she is, in the end, also a fourteen-year-old who wants someone to make her feel safe.

To be continued in Part IV: Green-Eyed Monsters

Like my meta? Buy me a coffee!

[wizkiddx]

was thinking for toms most recent ig story it sounds like hes working out early everyday, what if u did a blurb where the reader does it with his and its like best friend --> something else ? sounded like a you type of story, id love if you gave it a go ❤️💕

oohkay so sorry this lit just came through this evening and I suddenly got v stupidly into it (if u put in a req before that I promise I am working on it I just got way to invested cos this is stupidly cute) xxxx

summary: what starts off as tom taking you under his wing and some sunrise workouts together might just develop into something more

“It shouldn’t be legal…. to be doing anything… this fucking early!” Spoken, well yelled, in between the fake strokes of the exercise bike and your pants. All you got in response was the two men laughing at you, no sign of sympathy at all, as your gritted your teeth - fighting against every body instinct to stop the movements. Your heart was pumping like the clappers; breathing shallow and rushed and your arms… your arms felt like they were about to fall off. Combine that with the lack of sleep from waking up before the sun did at 5 am - meant you felt like your were in literal hell.  

Why ever you’d agreed to do these workouts with Tom and Duffy escaped you. Being the new and rising actress, with a new supporting role in the next Spiderman, meant you’d spent a lot of time with Tom over the past few weeks. Not to inflate his ego either, but Tom had been a real life hero to you. See, you were the complete opposite of his experienced and seasoned professionalism - this was your first acting gig. And what a gig it was, the second biggest part in a Marvel movie. You never really believed you’d get the part and even when you did, were pretty sure it was some elaborate joke, where Ant and Dec were going to jump out from some corner and go ‘ha its a prank!’ or something. 

Yet somehow it was all still happening, you had been flown halfway across the world to spend three months alone on a film set. Well obviously not alone, but you knew no one - you were a complete outsider. That, really, was the reason you’d agreed to do these sessions with Tom. He’d offered half heartedly while between takes as you were moaning about how out of breath you got in that scene. At that point, you’d only known each other for a matter of weeks, he really hadn’t expected you to commit to 5 am each and every morning. What he wasn’t aware of though, was how ocmplerly stranded and lonely you felt here, hence why you jumped at his offer. 

And yes you loved to moan and complain when you were there, however you were also so incredibly thankful he ever offered. Duffy, Tom’s PT, was a right laugh too and he took great joy in torturing you - and was also entertained by the new and inventive ways you’d insult him after he ordered you about. 

“Come on Y/n, 200m more and then we are done, even your little arms can survive that.”

“Really … not the encouragement… I was looking for.” Still panting, face bright red and blotchy as you pressed your legs straight again.

“Tom? You wanna help Y/n out?” 

“Nah you know… kind of enjoying seeing her in pain.” The British voice laughed from somewhere behind you, making you roll your eyes.

“Why the hell… are you not… torturing him?” He sounded way to comfortable and relaxed to be working hard. 

“He’s got a stunt heavy day today so wanted to go easy this morning.”

Now that was a bloody joke. You were BOTH filming the SAME scene today, doing the SAME stunts. 

“Did I forget to mention Y/n is on set too?” The joy in Tom’s voice made you want to do horrible things to him. Even though you felt like you wanted to collapse on the floor, you’d happily do a set or two on a punch bag right now - if that punch bag was Tom’s face. 

Before you could hurl some fresh abuse at your costar, Duffy called time on the rowing machine, turning the display off and passing your water bottle over as you slouched on the slidey seat. 

“Done good Y/n/n, I am actually super impressed with your progress” The stocky man patted you on the back genuinely, bringing a bit of smile to your otherwise grimacing face. He went over the chat to Tom about some boy shit that you couldn’t care less about, allowing you a couple minutes to get your breath back. As soon as you did and tried to dismount the machine of death, your ruined legs seemed to have other plans, shakily buckling so you ended up starfished on the floor, groaning at the dull ache that came with the sudden movement. 

And what show of concern did Duffy show you? A belly laugh that echoed round Toms indoor gym making you groan again, throwing your forearm over your eyes. It was in fact the curly haired brunette, who came and knelt by your side, wordlessly balling up the towel and placing it under your head as you shot your eyes open in shock. 

“You okay? Sorry… I might’ve taken our friendly competition a bit too far.”

“I just… just might have to gain the power of flight this afternoon cos my legs aren’t gonna bloody work.” Tom chuckled and shook his head at your dry humour. 

“Oh I’m sure we can talk to Jon and get that arranged… not like Marvel don’t spend years crafting the script and storyline for a newbie actor to change it all.”

“Might I remind you… they wouldn’t have to if your weren’t such a dickhead!” You exclaimed, sitting up and staring at him with an exasperated look than only made him burst out laughing again. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry… I just cant take you seriously when you look like such a tomato!” His voice went an octave higher as he laughed at himself, the situation getting even worse for you when you heard Duffy join in too. 

The boy was bloody lucky you couldn’t lift your arms right now, otherwise they’s almost certainly be attempting to ruin his pretty boy face. 

/////////////////////////////

After a long day of shooting you and Tom were in one of the set buggies, being taken back to your trailers to change for the evening. There was a peaceful silence until Tom ruined it yet again.

“ Got any fancy plans for this evening then?”

“Well you know me, back to my lonely little old place and  frozen pizza - so living the movie star life.” 

“It’s a Friday! You not going out with your team or anything?” He sounded so bemused at your quiet plans, and mention of a ‘team’ had you cocking your head to the side. 

“‘My team?’ Tom until I get my movie star pay check I can barely afford my pizzas, never mind a whole persons wage.” You were still only three weeks into filming and although you spent an hour every other morning sweating your ass off with Tom - apart from that you’d tried not to impose yourself on him too much. You didnt want to look clingy and naturally Tom always had a mountain of people vying for his attention - you would go to the back of a long line. So honestly, you were still a bit of a mystery to him, right now you’d both only scratched the surface on each other. 

“Really? I know this is your first big job but I thought you’d have someone here?” 

“Nah… I mean I’ve kinda clung to the Marty on the camera crew but he’s going to see family tonight sooo.”

“Come back to mine. I’ve swapped Harry for his twin Sam, which is a bit of an upgrade cos Sam’s a chef. He just arrived last night. I bet he can one up any pizza you were planning on.”

“Honestly I don’t want to impose, sorry I didnt mean for this to be a pity party or-“ The buggy slowed to a stop and Tom instantly vaulted out of it, standing right infront of you and blocking you exist off the back sofa. Both of you were still in costume, Tom in latex and you in your corset-esque two piece, but then both wrapped in matching long line black jackets supplied by set. 

“No come on I’m serious… Sam’s dying to meet you and it’d be good to spend more time together. You know, cos of chemistry and all.” The last bit was a switch from his cool and smooth, normally easy going tone - into something a bit more… anxious? Just like that, before your brain even knew what it was doing, you agreed, smiling broadly and nodding. 

So barely an hour later, you were knocking on the doors to Tom’s mansion-ish rented Atlanta home which was much much more grand than what the studio had arranged for you. Even though you were here most mornings, this time it felt different. Yeh it was stupid, but you can’t help the way you feel and you were stressed. For no real reason… just, just because. 

Thankfully, it wasn’t awkward at all  and you especially instantly hit it off with his younger brother Sam. Everything just felt easy and simple which meant so much more considering you’d felt so isolated an alone halfway across the world for your home comforts. Being British too, simply chatting to the two young men about your hometown and growing up was just so familiar, it really helped you feel less homesick.  Naturally too,  you’d fallen into a casual and friendly ribbing of Tom with Sam, making the three of you spend to majority of the evening cracking up (or in Tom’s case pouting at the abuse). It was a nice change from the two on one attack you got from Tom and Duffy that morning. You’d all cooked dinner together… well no, you and Tom had stood idly watching Sam cook an amazing chicken curry dish - which he promised to give you the recipe too. Honestly Sam felt like your long lost best friend, especially when it came to your shared ability to berate Tom for anything and everything. 

About an hour ago Tom had stuck on the film, effectively shutting up you and Sam - thankfully for him since Sam was just about to get to some rather embarrassing stories of Tom as a kid. You and Tom were on the longer grey sofa; with Sam sat  the other side of the coffee table in an impressively soft armchair - looking as though it was swallowing the lanky boy. The calm, the silence and the comfort was only going to go one way for you though. After your workout this morning, plus all the running and jumping during the shoot,  after what had already been a pretty intense week, it was hardly surprising that you didn’t even notice yourself drifting off the sleep. 

Who did notice though? Perhaps your brown haired costar who’d been stealing glances across to you ever since the movie had been put on? Because as much as he hated to admit it to himself, this didnt seem to be panning out as a normal job. A normal job is something you put your all into, for a couple weeks, and then leave with good memories and a good pay check. Yes, he had only known your for a matter of weeks or so but it already seemed to be unfathomable to cut ties with you. How would he go without your kind mannered abuse everyday? You were just refreshing, new and mysterious. And Tom was more than intrigued, his interest was peaked. 

And it was stupid to feel like that…. Of course it was. You can’t fancy a colleague because things get complicated and awkward. Tom knew that. 

Then why was he now delicately draping a blanket over your frame and smiling smally when you hummed in your sleep, in what seemed to be a show of appreciation for the layer of warmth? 

Because you were his excited puppy of a costar who is giving everything she has for the job? Because he is worried and wants to look after you? Because he cares? 

No matter why, in that moment you were contented and as was Tom. Oh and Sam? 

Sam saw the tell tale signs in his brother. He saw the way Tom had been touching your arm or the small of your back just a little more than what would be considered normal while he’d been cooking. He’d seen the way Tom had been laughing purely because you had. His eldest brother never did anything rash, it was always a painfully slow process for everyone involved. But Sam thought this just might be the start of something. The start of a slow burn.

[torilovestowrite]

Dabi x Reader; Try Again pt. 8

Synopsis: Years ago, (Y/n) was left by her villain boyfriend, Dabi after discovering an unexpected news. Ever since then, she never had a lover— focusing on her only son, Yuta. Later on, she meets Todoroki Touya— a new co-worker who seem to be persistent towards winning her heart and attention.

Ship: Dabi x Fem! Reader

❗❗❗Content Warning: Mentions of Abortion, Unplanned Pregnancy, Manga spoilers, Dabi is a Todoroki theory

🖤 » Chapter Navigation « 🖤

"Yuta L/n, you're not going out!" Y/n strictly reprimanded as she tried to keep her son still from his position, lying on bed with a cold towel on his forehead.

It was during a Wednesday when Yuta, y/n's son, had a fever that reached over 41 degrees. Y/n felt threatened about this because her son has never reached this temperature. It's too high— and he also stated something about his body feeling heavy. What could be happening?

"B-but... we're about to watch a movie in school today! I don't want to miss it!" Yuta began bawling his eyes out while Y/n sighed at his dramatic tone. Does it really have to be like this? Yuta has to be emotional and sensitive every time he gets sick? This only reminds her of him— the way he would caress her soft hands every time she would tend his wounds every after a tiring day— the man he used to love, Dabi, would appear to be more gentle and affectionate every time he gets worn out... or ill.

"We're going to watch a movie while you take a rest here at home, okay?" Y/n gently tapped her son's side in an attempt to make him close his eyes and sleep. "For now, take a rest. Or else, it would take longer before you could go outside."

Immediately, Yuta turned his back from his mother in an attempt to be more comfortable; and to have a good sleep. Y/n smiled at his actions. Good thing, her son has always been considerate on her hardwork and the way she disciplines him.

It wasn't too long until she heard a notification from her phone— a message coming from Touya.

touya ❣ : good morning y/n. how's ur pretty face doing?

It's been four months since y/n realized her feelings for Touya. Both of them started dating two months ago and so far, he has been understanding towards her obligations as a mother. Most of their dates included Yuta and there are times when Touya would volunteer to watch over him while she's away during her day shifts. Y/n could never ask for anything— Touya was doing his job greatly; as a boyfriend and as a paternal figure to Yuta.

you : yeah, i'm all good babe. thanks for asking. but yuta's sick rn... i dont really have anyone to take care of him and i need to go for my day shift.

touya ❣ : you want me to go for it? i mean, i only work during nights anyways

Y/n's smile lit up as she read his message. Finally! She thought. She could go to work!

you: sure thing babe 💗✨

Few more minutes, when Yuta has finally travelled to dreamland, Y/n left the house, wearing her thick f/c coat with her hair styled to become more neat-looking. Another day for work, she thought.

It's been two hours since Touya arrived in Y/n's home. Using the spare key under her house's doormat, he decided to enter her house that was silent when he went inside. Until he heard a child's high-pitched scream coming from Yuta's bedroom. His instinct caused him to immediately run towards this direction; but what he saw caused a heavy sensation in his chest. Those familiar blue flames that was once his signature— as Dabi; the heartless villain who claimed 30 innocent lives.

"U-Uncle T-Touya!" Yuta cried in panic while his right hand was burning with blue and heated fire. "W-What should I do?! M-my—"

"Breathe." Touya immediately replied as he kneeled next to him, rubbing his back with his huge and rough hands. "You have to control your breathing and your emotions. You have to control it because the more you panic, the more it will get stronger."

Yuta closed his eyes and focused in calming himself down— taking deep breaths and thinking about things that he liked in life— ice cream, Y/n, Uncle Touya, pro-heroes... all the things that makes him happy. Slowly, the fire became smaller and smaller— until nothing appeared on his hands.

"I-It's gone! The blue flames!" Yuta exclaimed as a grin crept on his face. "Did you see that awesome thing on my hand, Uncle Touya?! That must be my quirk, right?"

"Yes, it's an awesome quirk that you have." Touya smiled sadly as he stared at the young and naive child— as if he was seeing his past self; the pure child who was corrupted by his father's evil desires and deeds. It was all fun and games knowing he has an awesome quirk like that... until his father, Enji Todoroki, decided to ruin everything for him.

But he swore to be someone better than him; to be a man suitable to be called a father.

That afternoon, Y/n arrived at her home with such beautiful sight; Touya and Yuta scooped in each others' arms while the movie was left streaming. She smiled at the sight. It was so cute. For a few seconds, she almost believed that Touya was Yuta's father. The young mother couldn't help it but to take a picture of the two while having their peaceful slumber.

"I saw you," Touya spoke, "Delete it."

Y/n giggled as Touya stood up from his position as he tried to grab the phone away from her hands. It was such a cute sight. She was sticking her tongue out while she was trying to chase him. Y/n couldn't help but to feel as if they were all.. what? 17? Whatever, it felt cute, though.

"Yeah, whatever. Have that pic all you want. You can even make it your wallpaper." Y/n got her cheeks pinched by him as he gave her a light kiss on the nose. "I'm going now, sweet cheeks, I'm attending night shift for tonight."

"Sure, sure." Y/n smiled, planting a kiss on his cheek, as she watched his lean and toned figure leave their house. All that's left is her and Yuta. Slowly, his eyes opened to see his mother watching him sleep.

"Mommy?" Yuta spoke in a drowsy tone.

Y/n responded, hugging her son beside her while his eyes still looked sleepy. Seems that the sleep wasn't enough for him, huh? The young lady laughed at this, ruffling his hair, and deciding to ask him. "How was your day with Uncle Touya? Is it better than it was when you're at school?"

The young lad aggressively nodded and decided to tell Y/n the greatest thing that he discovered today.

"My quirk just manifested, ma! I have blue flames!" Yuta exclaimed as he tried to show it off with the tip of his fingers. Y/n's eyes widened at this— it created a tingling feeling in her heart. It was like a slap on her face. Yuta is really Dabi's son, isn't he?

"T-That's awesome." Y/n replied, trying to stop tears from flowing.

While her son was still busy talking about his day, her hands were able to feel something on the couch. It was... hard. She pulled out to see a black leather wallet. Did Touya forget his stuff here? Y/n sighed at his forgetfulness. Well, he's a person, she thought, so he has flaws too.

"Did Uncle Touya forget that, ma?" Yuta asked in a polite tone. "Bring it back to him tomorrow, okay?"

Y/n smiled at what he said. She really raised her son well. "Sure!"

It was night time. Yuta went back to sleep and Y/n was busy contemplating inside her room— walking back and forth; thinking about whether she should check his stuff or what.

It's not what others would think. It's just that it's been two months since they got together but Touya only says few things about himself. All she knew is that his parents are living overseas and he's left alone here. He has siblings who lived with their parents in abroad. Nothing more, nothing less.

Aside from that, it wouldn't hurt to peek just a little bit, right?

Y/n sighed as she finally came to a conclusion to check his wallet to see if there's something that would tell more about himself. It's not like she was nosy. She just wants to get to know him at a better level. He's quite of a silent and mysterious guy himself, which got the young lady curious about him.

Of course, there was nothing new; just few IDs, bunch of credit cards (which Y/n thought was odd because if he had this much money, why would he work in an old bar as a bartender), and a thin wad of cash. Nothing else— until something that was so unordinary in her eyes— fell.

Her eyes widened as she saw that memoribilia. No words could come out from her mouth. Her vision felt so dark; as if it was slowly fading; and her heart hurt so much. Only tears could come out from her eyes. No scream, no words, no phrases— simply, nothing.

"Y-you..." Her fists clenched tightly as her form started shaking— she didn't know what to feel. Is it anger, sadness, remorse— what should she feel first? She began to wail as she stared and touched at this object from the past. Whatever that happened was too painful for her to bear.

"You fooled me... Dabi."

That night, Touya was looking for his wallet. It was nowhere to be found; not even in his car. Maybe he left it at your place? Well, whatever the circumstances are, he was hoping that none of you would be able to find it. Maybe, he'd drive towards your place again and—

His thoughts were interrupted as his phone rang. The caller ID showed Y/n— and a selfie that she sent him as the profile picture. Immediately, he answered it.

"Hello, bab—"

"Don't you babe me. We have to talk." Y/n's voice sounded cold and harsh. She was angry... and he knew it. Touya knew that tone several years ago; and if he hears that, he knows that hell will break because of her wrath.

"What is it?"

"Stop acting dumb." Y/n scoffed.

"How the hell are you alive, Dabi?"

Taglist [OPEN]: @babayaga67 @marydragneell @xxtrash-kingxx @paranoiac-666 @velvet-kissesss @orenjineki @mermaid-starlet @ikita454 @yo-girl-lunar @pansexual-booknerd @daimiyu

a/n: i kinda did stop updating this but like bnha chapter 290 got me like 😭😭😭😭 dabi can i give u a hug plspslslslsl 😗😗

[tirsynni]

Okay, keep in mind I’m going to start my RE6 watch in, oh, fifteen minutes and haven’t seen it yet, so this bit of Leon flailing is based on what I have seen. This also relies on both the games and movies (and ignores the books and other bits of canon/pseudo-canon).

Under a cut because this went longer than planned and I think I forgot what I was going for after a bit due to Leon flailiing.

We meet our intrepid hero in RE2 (and technically, RE2 Remake, as they provide different bits of background on Leon). In the original, Leon was late because his girlfriend broke up with him, he got drunk, and overslept. In the remake, he was deliberately told to not come because the outbreak had begun and ended up going to Raccoon City when he couldn’t get a hold of anyone (I think that’s what it was). For the sake of argument, we’re combining the two. He had a girlfriend, she broke up with him because he had this crazy idea to apply to a police officer position in another city because he wanted to investigate insane murders of all things, dealt with the break-up by getting drunk, but was late going to the city because he was told not to come. In at least one RE universe, it’s established that drinking is a possible coping mechanism for him. No further details given.

So we have an inclination there but no further evidence of use. Not yet. In RE2, he still pretty optimistic, helpful, compassionate, and people-focused. Honestly, a pretty sweet guy who just wants to help people (and not be turned into a flesh-eating monster). By the end of the remake, we have some foreshadowing after Ada falls when the shadows fall over him and his face is grim. We have a hint as to what he could be.

The end of RE2 is full of betrayals and pain. He learns about Ada. He is horrified by Annette’s attitude toward the virus and her dismissal of her role in it. He is kidnapped by the government who, instead of helping him and Sherry, threatens her life to force him to work for him. The scene ends with him still bloody, hunched over, and shouting that she is just a child. Fucking ow.

His next bit is in Darkside Chronicles. Still pretty sweet, pretty optimistic, a trained fighter not flinching when attacked by monsters, and there’s a nice contrast between him and the more grizzled Krauser. Krauser is more cynical, more ruthless, not a bad guy (not yet), but unlike Leon, he tends to judge things in certain categories, like victims, weapons, etc. The most interesting bit of contrast between the pair is that Leon is far calmer about the monsters than Krauser, who is terrified and, between that and his career-ended wound, sees the viruses as weapons which can be utilized. At this stage of the game, Leon’s big concern remains helping people, as seen in his defense of Manuela. Even after his betrayal by the government, he looks at Krauser and never thinks of the man betraying him or hurting him. He fearlessly extends his hand to Krauser.

In DC, when the final scene of RE2 is referenced, he never mentions the government’s threats or his own forced employment. There is no canon reference to him telling anyone ever.

RE4 is just... fucking trauma. He deals with it with quips and puns and bad humor, but you can tell he’s frustrated and angry. He’s furious with the bad guys and how they treat Ashley and Krauser. He’s betrayed by Krauser and is confused by how Krauser chose his path (which hurts a bit, honestly). How Saddler uses the parasite to control and hurt him. Confirming Ada is alive and the betrayal inherent in that. There’s just... a lot going on for him in RE4. Still! He maintains his sense of humor, keeping Ashley’s spirits up, and flirting with Hunnigan at the end. He’s still holding on.

ID takes place after RE4. For the first time, he references his horror at how the government destroyed Raccoon City without trying to help survivors. He references his horror about the nightmare that was surviving in Raccoon City. He is, again, betrayed. He, once again, has the nightmare that is his own government thrown back in his face.

Still, he’s hanging on! He’s trying to be optimistic, but you see him faltering when Claire is angry with him at the end. Hell, I swear you see him trying not to cry at certain scenes.

Again, no reference that he’s tried to explain anything to Claire, and... yeah. I can see her trying to fistfight the government over all of this, and Leon repeatedly, desperately hopes to end these horrors without accidentally creating more.

Still holding on, though! Still hanging in there!

Damnation, in my opinion, is when we really see him start breaking for the first time. By the end of that movie, he’s realized how thoroughly the government has manipulated and betrayed him. The government couldn’t act in that country, but they knew he could and would and set him up. He just had to shoot a man to save him. He has Hunnigan, someone he trusts because Leon trusts easily and gets attached to people easily and she’s been working with him for years, insisting that she knew nothing about it. He’s exhausted, hurt, betrayed again, and with Sasha and later by himself, you see him drinking, the former with a flask used by yet another person he wasn’t able to save. No sign of optimism. No joking. With Sasha, he gives the suicide speech which could easily have been intended for both of them: you can’t eat a bullet not because life is good and worth living but because you chose to serve others when you picked up that gun and now you need to live for them.

RE6? More horrific betrayals. More... everything. It starts terrible and then keeps going.

By Vendetta, he gets vacation time and slinks away with a bottle. There is no indication that even by then anyone has any idea how terribly the government has betrayed him, and he’s stuck with them. When he wants to lick his wounds, he doesn’t go to anyone for help. He claimed vacation time, hid himself away, and pulled out a damned bottle.

So we’ve had hints from the start that alcohol was an acceptable coping mechanism in his head, even if we didn’t see any signs of self-medication until the end of Damnation. The guy also hides and tries to treat his wounds by himself. He never tells anyone about how much the government has fucked him over. He does try occasionally to reach out -- to Luis, to Krauser, to Jason -- and it didn’t help any because they all ended up dead

It makes me curious about what would have happened if Chris and Rebecca hadn’t found him in Vendetta. When his vacation was done, would he just have taken a deep breath, trashed the bottles, and greeted his co-workers with a dad joke? It’s also interesting that one of the few times we see him that hostile toward an ally is when he does take that time to tuck himself away and engage in behaviors we don’t see him normally display around others. He’s the guy who either breaks the tension or, if he’s fucked up, just withdraws. I don’t see him as an alcoholic, although that is a popular fan headcanon. That would take it more out of his control, put it more into the public arena. He keeps pain and unhealthy coping mechanisms private, with Chris and Rebecca literally having to hunt him down in a random location when he tucked himself away to drink.

Through his timeline, we see the ongoing betrayals and hits take their toll on him, we see him using humor less and withdrawing more, we see when he picks up that bottle in Damnation.

But we also see him pick himself up in Vendetta when needed and take to the battlefield and stagger to Chris and Rebecca after getting his ass kicked by Arias. By that time, he’s definitely no longer the bright-eyed rookie in RE2, but his core remains the same. 

If Chris could just give him a hug instead of a bottle after Vendetta, I would appreciate it.

[buckyskorpion]

11 hours - part two

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: thank you guys so much for the incredible response i got to part one!! it made me so happy so thank you. let me know wha yall think of this bit, we’ve got some plot going on which i always enjoy. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one

You don’t hear from Bucky for a while after the party. It’s disappointing - you’re self-aware enough to admit that. But you also aren’t stupid enough to expect anything else. Bucky asked you to that party as a favour, you got a one-night-only special being in his life and you’re not expecting anything else.

You had hoped it wouldn’t have impacted your nightly rendezvous, but those had stopped too. You suppose Bucky decided not to trust you after all.

Almost three weeks later and you’re at work, thoughts of Bucky barely a buzz in the back of your head compared to the job at hand. You’ve always been able to let your work consume you, and it pays off in your line of business. Being a private investigator requires attention to detail, lateral thinking, and a questionable moral compass. Your patented paranoia doesn’t hurt either. Your dad tells you every time you visit that he wishes you’d get into something more stable, something less dirty, but you’re not really good at anything else. Considering the majority of your clients are partners trying to figure out if their significant other is cheating, it also pays well for quite minimal effort.

Quick rule of thumb for aspiring PI’s: they’re almost always cheating.

Today is one of those clients. You’ve tailed the guy in question to a tattoo shop in Red Hook, which is already a red flag. He’s an investment banker and buys Louis Vuitton cufflinks for his ugly work suits. He stands out like a sore thumb in this grungy neighbourhood. You snap a few photos of him outside the store, very obviously checking left and right for a tail before entering the place. People suck at being subtle, you’ve come to realise over the years. And at being observant, because all you’ve bothered to do to hide is sit at the cafe across the road and pretend to be taking photos of the latte art on your coffee.

Entering the tattoo parlour is a no-go, even if your grunge aesthetic would fit in with the clientele more than your straight-laced prey. There are other ways, though. You leave some bills on the table and cross the street into the alley beside the tattoo shop, wrinkling your nose at the dumpster smell. There’s a fire escape which you can reach if you stand on the lid of the offensive dumpster in question, leading to a window you hope will get you some insight into what Mike Shorditch of suspected-cheating fame is up to. Maybe he has a tattooed, lip-ringed young girlfriend he meets here? Or a heavy-set biker boyfriend? Or he just wants a tattoo and his wife is as paranoid as you are.

Squeezed uncomfortably between the bars of the fire-escape, you manage to aim your camera lens at the window and zoom in - jackpot. It’s a small window near the ceiling of the high-roofed shop, letting in minimal light to ruin the dark aesthetic of the place, allowing you a somewhat clear view of the shop inside. It’s really nice, you notice, and they have good taste in music. Slowly Slowly bleeds minimally through the glass and you try focus your lens on the faces inside, catching Mike among them like a unicorn in a goth reunion. He’s talking to someone, waving his hands around dramatically while the guy he talks to towers over him, arms folded over a ginormous chest.

You know that face, you realise as you aim your lens a little higher. The shock burns, almost makes you drop your camera and fall off the fire escape you’re precariously lying on. It’s Steve, blonde head unmistakeable as he glares at your target and dismisses whatever Mike says to him with an eyeroll. Without questioning it, you snap a few photos of Steve’s imposing figure - so at odds with the friendly, downright cuddly man you met at the party a few weeks ago. Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of thoughts about that night, they show up at your work. How is this possible?

None of this sits right with you. This strange coincidence, the weird behaviour at the party towards Bucky and his friends, Bucky’s general evasiveness and the feeling you get of being watched just being around him. Nothing is adding up and you’ve never been the kind of person to leave well enough alone. You snap photos of the shop, as much as you can - Steve’s tattoo sleeve that had been hidden under a jumper at the party, the stencils lining the walls, the locks on the front door, the counter where a scrawny kid in glasses bends over what looks like genuine high-school homework and ignores the adults in the shop. There are too many variables - you have to start making sense of one of them.

The easiest thread to pull is Mike, and he’s the one you’re being paid to solve, so it makes sense to start there. Clearly it isn’t cheating his wife should be worried about, but the meeting he’s having with Steve and the others doesn’t look like a friendly catch up with friends either. His personal cybersecurity is poor enough you figure you’ll be able to solve that particular mystery easy enough.

Bucky and his friends, however? That’s going to take a bit more digging.

***

According to Mike Shoreditch’s bank records, he owes somebody a lot of money. You get this from an account his wife doesn’t even know he has, believing all their money goes into a shared account with a completely different bank. Mike has a lot of secrets but cheating isn’t one of them - the print outs of his secret bank account statements and the pictures of him at Steve’s tattoo parlour would be enough for you to close the case and get your money. But you don’t. Not just yet. You have your own itch to scratch, now.

You’ve taken to watching the tattoo shop’s comings and goings, snapping pictures here and there. Steve comes in at ten in the morning, ready to open the shop up by lunchtime for customers and doesn’t close it until midnight. His customers are the usual sort you’d imagine at a rough tattoo shop in Red Hook - heavy set guys with full sleeves and chest pieces, grungy couples who probably live upstate but are rebelling against their trust-fund parents, random walk-ins who’s nerves you can sense from across the street at what’s become your usual table. There are a few, though, who stand out. Leather jackets and motorbikes they park in the alley beside the shop, using the back entrance you snap a shot of one night once they all went home.

You’re not jumping to conclusions just yet, you’ve learnt the hard way from doing that, but you’re also not stupid. Whatever Steve is into, whatever Bucky is by association a part of, there are some shady looking people involved as well.

It’s one of those days where you’re watching the shop from the cafe, camera left on the table in favour of devouring an almond croissant and cataloguing the people you’ve now dubbed regulars at Steve’s as they enter the shop. You should probably be doing your actual job but you can’t bring yourself to, too caught up in the shady business across the street from you. Absorbed, in fact, so you practically jump out of your skin as your phone rings and you send it flying to the pavement with an errant elbow.

You pick up without checking the ID, and boy was that a mistake. Heart pounding painfully in your chest, you answer, “Hi, hello, hi, this is (Y/n) speaking,” all in a rush.

A familiar, honey-warm laugh rumbles down the phone to you and your previously racing heart all but stops beating. Bucky says, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Does he know? Had Steve caught you spying and called Bucky asking why the random girl he brought to a party that one time was stalking him? You glance around the street, half expecting Bucky to be standing behind you and catching you red-handed. He’s not, of course he’s not, you’re just losing your mind a little bit.

“No, no, sorry,” you say, running a shaky hand through your hair. “I’m at work. What’s up?”

“I won’t keep you long,” Bucky says, sounding amused, and you hate how the rough catch of his voice through the phone all but erases the suspicions you have for him, warning you to stay away. You had missed him, is all. He says, as if plucking the thought from your brain, “I was missing you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glad he can’t see the grin you send to the table. “That why you disappeared after the party?”

“Let me explain over drinks?” Bucky asks, dodging your jab with ease. No, no, no, don’t be stupid, he’s bad news and you’ve got the proof, don’t-

“You’re paying,” you say instead, silencing the smart side of your brain.

“Always do,” he says, which is blatantly not true but whatever, “Nine at Joey’s?”

“See you there,” you say, and hang up before you can do anything else stupid.

You bury your hands in your hair, leaning your elbows on the table and letting out a frustrated sound probably inappropriate for a public place. How are you going to go meet Bucky and pretend you aren’t, essentially, investigating his best friend? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you use this to get more answers, full-stop some of the question marks that have been playing havoc with your head all week.

And sex. You’re not going to pretend you won’t be ending up in Bucky’s bed again, shady secrets be damned.

***

Joey’s is a divey, underground bar you absolutely adore, and you’ve met Bucky here multiple times. He introduced you to the place, actually, a week or so into meeting up him. He’d laughed at how excited you were over the movie posters they used as decor behind the booths, the bartender who squeezed fresh apple juice into your shot of Jameson, the dirty bass-heavy music you eventually convinced him to dance with you to. Bucky is clearly trying to win you over by meeting you here, and you can’t say it’s not working. Just a little bit. You’ll still make him work for it.

Bucky’s got a booth at the back when you arrive, two whiskey apple’s already waiting on the table as he stands up to greet you. He pulls you into a hug, not letting you set the tone at all, but you can’t find it in you to mind as you’re crushed into his chest and he rests his stubbly chin atop your head. He smells nice, reminding you of spiced rum or something else warm and comforting, and his hands feel real nice as they dip under your top to press against your bare skin. Had you really missed him this much? You squeeze him tightly, ignoring the thump of your heart as he starts rubbing circles into your back, and you stand there in his arms for far too long to be appropriate.

Pulling away, though, feels like you’ve lost something.

Across the booth from you, now, Bucky slides a drink towards you with his usual cheeky grin. You roll your eyes at him, popping the straw in your mouth and looking out at the bar so you can pretend not to pay attention to him. He bumps your foot under the table but you ignore him, hiding your smirk in the rim of your glass.

“Doll,” he says, exasperated, and reaches across the booth to place his giant hand on the arm you have resting on the table. You look at him then, scrunching your nose up at the pet name which makes him smile. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, all soft and blurry blue, and you feel yourself forgetting why you’re supposed to be mad at him in the first place.

“What,” you say, mimicking his tone just to watch his jaw clench. His frustration is hot, what of it? You love winding him up like this.

“Brat,” he retorts, and oh, that makes you feel something you probably shouldn’t, all low and coiled hot in your belly. “Did you think I was avoiding you?”

“You were avoiding me,” you correct, raising your eyebrows at him. He hasn’t let go of your arm, now taking to rubbing his thumb back and forth across the leather of your jacket. You refuse to let it melt you.

“I was away,” he says, eyes sparkling. He’s practically laughing at you, which is- rude. You huff, barely believing him, and he says, “I was! Did you want me to tell you I was going or something?”

“No,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. You sigh - he’s right, what did you expect? Nothing, and yet you were put out anyway, but that’s a problem you’ve got to deal with on your own. Bucky doesn’t owe you anything and he knows it. You relax, finally, putting your drink down to cover Bucky’s hand with your own. You smile, say, “I’m just messing with you, Bucky.”

“Sure you are,” he says easily, but you know he doesn’t believe you. It’s dropped, then, forgotten as you sit there staring at each other in the dim light of the bar. You really had missed him, even if you still barely knew him. His stubbly jaw, the close-cropped sides of the new haircut he’d gotten since you’d last seen him, the glint of his dog togs against tanned skin disappearing under his t-shirt. The swirl of his chest piece peeking out from the neckline, and you can fill in the blanks because you’ve seen what’s under that t-shirt. You’ve traced your tongue over it, as well as every other inch of him you’re trying to memorise in case another month passed before you saw him again. If you ever saw him at all.

“What?” you ask when you realise he’s starting to smile at you, holding back a laugh. He shakes his head, looking down to pick up his drink and take a sip. You lean back, retracting yourself from his grip and folding your arms across your chest - he’s making fun of you, you know it, but you don’t know why. He does laugh then, also leaning back in his seat and regarding you with that head tilt that infuriates you.

“Nothing,” he laughs, eyes saying the opposite. “It’s just- it’s nice to see you.”

“You going soft on me, tough guy?” you tease, but he sobers at your words, the smile dying on his pillow-plump lips. He stares you down, that deep thing that reminds you how easy it is to get lost in him (if you aren’t already).

“Maybe I am,” he says, and that surprises you. You had been joking, but the heady way he’s looking at you turns it serious. “Would that bother you?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to say the right thing. You don’t even know if that’s a good response or not, but you’ve done it now and Bucky nods, downs his drink, all without ever breaking eye contact with you. You get the distinct feeling you’ve just agreed to something you don’t entirely understand, entangling yourself further into Bucky without even trying to. Given what you’d been uncovering about his friends the past week, you should know better. You should leave.

But you don’t. You lean across the booth, coming to him this time, and peel his hand off his glass to entwine your fingers with his. The cool metal of his signet rings offsets the warmth of his palm against yours, and the way he grips your fingers tightly signs the deal. Bucky is too enticing to stay away from, and you are too tired of trying to.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you ask, but it’s not really a question. You watch his eyes dart across your face, tongue flicking out over his lips, stalling for time. You wonder what he’ll say. My friends run dodgy business deals out of a tattoo parlour? I’m involved in that, too? I’m dangerous, I’m a liar, you should stay away?

“I’m a mechanic,” he says. You try not to show your disappointment, but still, this is information you didn’t have before and you’re greedy for anything. “I have my own shop in Queens. Natasha helps me out, helps me run it. I’ve been obsessed with cars and bikes and shit since I was five.”

You smile at that, imaging little Bucky running around a car yard trying to convince his dad, or whoever, to teach him how to drive even if he couldn’t reach the pedals yet. You imagine him now, the hand you’re holding all greased up and elbow deep in a car’s guts, maybe with his shirt off and sweat dripping down his back. You’ve got to see that one day before you die, you decide right then. That’s too hot to just stay in your brain.

“Your turn,” he says, shit-eating smirk in place like he can read your mind. You blush, despite yourself, and scramble for something to say that’s not I’ve been investigating your friends all week and it’s not looking too good for them.

“My dad,” you blurt out, and Bucky give you a funny look like he thinks that’s your fact - you have a dad, isn’t that something. You curse yourself for starting this, you could’ve gone with anything and you said ‘my dad’? But you’re here now, so, “He raised me on his own, like, I don’t know my mum at all, but he always said he wanted me to have something of her so he taught me Russian. She taught him, apparently, and he taught her English. Now it’s like our secret language.”

“Russian, hey?” Bucky asks, and he seems far too surprised for the anecdote you’ve just given but you suppose it is the first actually personal thing you’ve told him. He doesn’t seem off-put by it, though, like you have expected him to be because you don’t do personal. In fact he just leans closer, almost unconsciously, baiting you to tell him more.

“Yeah,” you say, compelled to keep going. “We’d leave each other notes around the house in ‘code’, y’know, but it was just in Cyrillic. Thought it was so cool.”

“It is cool,” Bucky says, smirking at you again, “You’re cool.”

“Fuck you,” you laugh, kicking his ankle under the table but immeasurably grateful for the tone change. You don’t know why you’ve just told him that. You don’t know if you’ve ever told anyone that - Russian isn’t exactly a handy language to know. You feel drunker than you should be after a tiny bit of whiskey, high on the rush of unleashing a secret. Drunk enough that Bucky unlatching his fingers from yours to grip your wrist tight, a bit bruising, tugging you close, makes you flush from your scalp to your toes.

Bucky looks at you, dark and heavy, and asks, “Want to?”

You nod, throat suddenly very dry, and Bucky tugs you out of the booth without another word. Usually you wait a bit longer before getting on Bucky’s bike, have a few more drinks, maybe dance a bit if you can coax Bucky into it. Not tonight. You’re both on the same page - it’s been too long and you need his mouth on you about five days ago.

He pushes you into the apartment by the shoulders, rough enough you stumble but you’re quickly righted as he strides through the door after you and grabs you by the hips. Bucky crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your needy whine with soft lips and velvet tongue as you fist his t-shirt and drag you both backwards, going and going until your back hits a wall. His palm slams into the drywall by your head but you don’t flinch, only groan as he smudges his spit-slick mouth across your jaw and down your neck. Bucky bites down, sharp teeth on soft skin, and you rake your nails down his stomach as payback for the mark you’ll have later.

“Off,” Bucky grumbles as he shoves at your jacket, getting it stuck at your elbows and trapping your arms by your sides. He seems to like like this, eyes flashing something dangerous in the dark of his hallway. You hold his eyes, heart thrumming something wild in your throat at being caught, pinned, vulnerable. With Bucky, though, you like that.

You want to reach for him but you can’t, so you wait for him to come to you. Kissing you breathless, hand fisted in your hair, other undoing the front of your jeans. God, you wanna touch him so bad but Bucky has you in his grip, yanking your head back to kiss that same bruised spot.  He sucks another under your chin as you cry out, pinpricks of pain-turned-pleasure bursting at the base of your scalp.

He gets his hand in your jeans, in your panties, runs two fingers down your cunt so easy with how wet you are already before rubbing bruising, slow circles on your clit. Your whole body jerks against Bucky’s hold on you, his thighs bracketing your body into the wall and his hand still fisted in your hair. Your mouth drops open in a soundless moan and you feel, rather than hear Bucky laugh against your throat. All executive function has diverted to the radiating ache of pure pleasure from Bucky’s fingers on you.

Bucky lets go of you hair only to press his hand on your throat, cold rings digging into your burnt-up skin and pressing you back into the wall. Long fingers tilt your jaw to look at him, increased pressure warning you against looking away, but you don’t want to anyway. Bucky’s eyes are dark like a sea storm, molten blue, and he squeezes his grip just once before saying, “Still think I’ve gone soft?”

Jesus christ, but you can’t answer him like this - not with your pulse thundering against his palm and the way he picks up the pace on your clit, making your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up. Bucky grins, boyish and crinkly, and it’s so at odds with the way he slides his two fingers down and pushes into you, twisting to the knuckle, that you think you might be losing your mind. Unravelling, Bucky pulling at the threads, and the only thing holding you together is his hand on your throat.

“Bucky,” you say, his name a broken breath as you start to lose focus. Everything’s hazy, glassy, your toes are going numb and tingly so you know it’s coming, building tight in your stomach as he rubs his fingers back and forth inside of you. At his name Bucky makes a sound almost like a growl, pressing his body against yours and somehow further into the wall. You need that contact,  the press of his muscles holding you up as it gets harder and harder to breath with the heat coiling up inside of you. He presses his forehead against yours so all you can see is blue edged out by black, claiming your every breath and moan, drawing you in deeper and deeper because you’re his, now. There’s no way back from this.

He presses his thumb to your clit, thrusts his fingers deeper into you, mouth parting with yours as you moan as if he means to swallow the sound. You’re there, you’re right there, and then he kisses you so soft you might’ve imagined it and you’re coming, your whole body clenching up and whiting out while he finger fucks you through it.

Trembling muscles come to leant against the wall, barely holding yourself up as Bucky extricates himself and allows you room to breath. He gently tugs your jacket all the way off, freeing your arms to come up sluggish and heavy around his neck, holding on. He laughs, just quietly, letting you nuzzle your way into the side of his neck and breath in that warm honey Bucky smell as you try and regain mental functions. It’s hard. You think Bucky’s just blended up your brain with a swizzle stuck and sucked it out through a straw.

“C’mon,” he says, gravel rough, and nudges his nose against the side of your head. “Not done with you yet.”

“Hmph,” you say, but let yourself be picked up under the ass and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck you can reach with every second your body comes back online, digging your teeth in a little when he squeezes your ass as he walks. You’re both still fully clothes, basically, but you don’t plan to be for long. You’ve got tattoos to kiss and a dick you want anyway Bucky’ll let you. You’ve got all night, after all.

***

It’s late, you should be going, but you steal a few more minutes lying on Bucky’s chest. He’s sat up against the headboard, trying to braid little pieces of your hair with the cutest look of concentration on his face. The way he goes from dirty to dork always makes your heart do complicated things in your chest. You’re drumming your fingers on his chest, right next to his dog tags, and before you can overthink it too much you pause your drum solo to pick them up.

Bucky doesn’t pause in his hair-braiding but you can feel him watching you as you turn the worn metal over in your fingers. They’re well loved, a bit bent in places and the letters starting to rub flat  but you can still read it. His birthday, March 10th, and his name. You’d never thought to read these before - they always seemed part of Bucky’s past, something you weren’t allowed into yet. But tonight has made you bold, and you run your thumb over the letters of his name so you can memorise the feel of them.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you mumble, words half said into his skin. Bucky hums but doesn’t respond, so you say, “I always knew no mother could look at their newborn child and call it Bucky.”

“Watch it,” Bucky warns, but without any real heat. You don’t ask what the tags mean, which war he fought in, when he got back. You lay them back on his skin carefully, straightening out the chain, before turning in Bucky’s arms to prop your chin on his chest piece and look at him.

“I should go,” you say, as you continue to lie there with legs tangled and Bucky’s hand now resting idle, cupping the back of your head. He bites his lip, strokes his big hand down the back of your hair and making you close your eyes for a second. You’re enjoying his touch too much, you’re getting too close for a man you don’t know. A man who you know has secrets you probably don’t want to uncover, but you can’t stop yourself.

“You could stay.” Bucky’s words hang there, suspended in the space between you. He’s never said that before. You never thought he would say that, ever. Bucky looks at you, face unreadable, and you don’t know why you feel sick to your stomach all of a sudden but you do. There are lines being crossed that you can’t backtrack from. You’re not ready to make that step yet.

“Not tonight,” you say, and it’s not a no but it’s not what Bucky wants to hear. He withdraws his hand from you, letting it drop uselessly to the bed beside him. You take that as your cue to go, rolling off the bed and dressing silently with Bucky’s eyes burning a hole in your skin.

You’re pulling away, trying desperately to regain some distance and control from his man who already has you swallowed whole, he just doesn’t know it yet. Even still, you can’t stop yourself crawling back on the bed and straddling his lap, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him. You want him to remember this - not you saying no, but the way your body will always say yes to him as he holds your hips and keeps you there, kissing you back as desperate as you feel.

But now you know you have reason to climb through the laundry room window that night and sneak away from Bucky’s apartment building, that you’re not just being paranoid because you’ve got photos to prove it. It’s that thought alone that makes it bearable to leave him, even if your heart is begging you to stay.

Part 3

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 5x03-- And the court had a clerk...

Hello again! It’s nice to have this show back. This episode was a bit less of a standout than the previous two, but I’m still happy with the overall direction for this season. More under the cut (or here, because tumblr sucks). 

When Robert King tweeted the episode title, I asked him if all the titles this season were adding up to one long sentence/story, hoping he’d confirm it and give a little more information. He did! He said it’s “in the Farmer in the Dell mode” and while I think I get what he’s saying, I’m very curious to see how it plays out. Haven’t been able to track down 5x04′s title yet, but the promo is out. (As of this morning! It’s interesting they’re not putting them after the episode this year; I kind of like it.) 

Kurt’s job is up in the air given the new administration. I think this scene exists mostly just to remind us where Kurt works and the stakes.

What month is this supposed to be in? The transition seems recent but no one is wearing masks.  

Kurt spots a poster asking for help ID’ing people at the Capitol on January 6th. He thinks he recognizes someone...

And now we’re in case of the week land. This case is about a small business owner whose business went under after someone created fake news articles accusing him of pedophilia.  

I think the whole point of this (kind of long) scene is to show that this case is a pretty small deal. Low stakes, inexperienced opposing lawyer. (Not even sure why Liz would be arguing this in court, but whatever.)

Tbh I thought this was going to wind up in 9 ¾ court.

Now that we have junior level characters, we get scenes showing that there are, in fact, people at RBL who are mid-level. Liz asks an associate to work on something, he asks another associate to work on it, she delegates to other associates, and they delegate to Marissa and Carmen. This work seems terrible.  

It’s so funny to me how this is probably more realistic than most of the lawyering on the show and yet it only shows up selectively. We only see the hierarchy here to make it clear that Marissa and Carmen are at the bottom.  

David Lee interrupts and asks for Carmen. He’s very rude to her. Interestingly, she’s hesitant to leave her grunt work and follow David, even though she must know he outranks the associate who gave her the grunt work.

“Why am I supposed to know you?” David asks her as they walk through the halls. “I don’t know if you are,” Carmen responds. “Why does Benjamin Dafoe know you?” he asks. She doesn’t know who he is.  

“Who are you?” Dafoe asks when Carmen enters. She states her name, again. “Why are you important?” he asks. “I don’t think that I am,” Carmen responds.  

Then Dafoe says his top client, and it’s a name that the characters all know. I’m glad this scene is free of any “he’s the white OJ” expository lines (that’s from Sweeney’s introduction) -- it’s clear from the reactions and the discussion of police and rape that the top client is a bad guy, probably a rapist. The rapist wants Carmen to represent him.

Putting 2 and 2 together, Carmen asks if the rapist knows Rivi. He’s not, but he’s at the same prison. As soon as Carmen says she’s representing Rivi, David Lee switches gears, understanding the situation and trying to sign the new business. He’s so shameless!  

Marissa sorts ALL the papers. There are a LOT of papers. I’m swamped. Look at all this paper.

She catches the associate who assigned her the task leaving for the night just as she finishes up, and cheerfully notes she’s finished the task. Then the associate mentions this was only half of the bills. Marissa does not like that. Since her goal in wanting to be a lawyer is mostly just to give her something exciting to do and earn respect... this hierarchy thing is not going so well.

Marissa decides that after her rough day, she’s going to stop by Wackner’s court. He’s in the middle of a case about Emily in Paris fanfiction and he’s very happy to see Marissa.  

Wackner’s night court has a program—it notes the sponsor is Copy Co-op (I thought it was Copy Coop?) and the paper products were also provided by them. And “there will be regular intermissions at the discretion of Judge Wackner.” It’s very theatrical.  

Wackner takes a recess and calls Marissa to his “chambers.” He asks for her thoughts on the case. “All they want is attention and to feel like they’ve won,” Marissa notes. Wackner’s on the same wave length and compares it to the Scarecrow’s diploma at the end of The Wizard of Oz. So, he makes copyright certificates and some minor modifications to each of the fanfic books. They say “I respect you and I love you” and that’s that.

Wackner catches Marissa before she leaves and asks her to be his law clerk—part time or full time, 10% of all the legal filings and unlimited use of copy machines. She is hesitant because she “doesn’t even know what this is.”

Wackner says his court is “the future.” Marissa turns him down; notes she wants to pass the bar. “You know why all these people are here? ‘Cause the courts and the lawyers and the appeals have made justice... unattainable. Out of reach. To anyone who doesn’t have a shitload of money to wait it out. That’s why Exxon beats out Mr. Nobody. Read Kafka’s Before the Law.”  

I just read it, and you should too! It literally is a page, but tl;dr, there’s a man who wants to get to the law and instead he spends his whole life trying to win over the first of many gatekeepers on the path to the law. He never gets through the gate.  

“Justice is only just if it’s available to everyone,” Wackner says. Marissa thinks about that.

As I said last week, it’s smart that Wackner makes so much sense. Hearing him say all this, knowing that it’s true... it makes it very easy to get on board with the thought experiment. Of course there would be huge repercussions to this kind of system, but it makes so much sense it’s compelling TV!

Kurt’s showering when Diane gets home, which gives her time to stumble across the WANTED poster and notice that Kurt has drawn facial hair onto one of the pictures. “Who is this?” she asks him. “No one,” he says. “Well, you drew in a beard and a moustache on him,” Diane notes. Kurt says he was doodling, but Diane calls him out as he is the “exact opposite of a doodler.” Kurt says he thought it was someone he knew, but he’s not sure. Diane pushes him to tell the feds. Kurt reiterates he’s not sure, but it’s someone he went shooting with. “Oh my God, then it’s him,” Diane jumps to (not incorrect) conclusions. Kurt says he didn’t talk that way; he’s a veteran. “Kurt! That’s the profile!” Diane argues. Kurt isn’t convinced and he doesn’t want to be responsible for naming names. He notes he’ll be threatened with indictment for not naming names and then only lawyers will end up benefitting. Diane is not convinced.

I think this is an interesting conflict for Kurt and Diane. I understand why Kurt is hesitant to speak out before he’s sure. And I understand and agree with Diane that it’s important to identify the attackers and prevent anything like that from happening again.

I don’t mean to blame Kurt, exactly, but I feel like all of what happens next could’ve played out differently if Kurt had been just a little clearer with Diane about why he was hesitant to ID the man. Like, the threat of indictment for not naming names sounds like some typical anti-government rambling. Saying you specifically are afraid that this will turn back on you and you need to weigh your options and come up with a plan first would put Diane in a very different mode, in which they’d work together to craft the best strategy. Because this man would’ve been ID’d by someone, sooner or later, and Kurt would’ve needed to be prepared.  

Diane stares at the wanted poster at work and asks Jay to find his identity. He’s on the FBI TEN MOST WANTED? Ten!? Ok!  

Diane shares the extra information she has—the gun range and that he’s a veteran—and Jay gets to work.  

Turns out there’s no money in the case that Liz, a name partner, is working on and Marissa just spent all those hours sorting bills for. I could’ve told you there was no money in that case lol.  

Jay IDs the guy very fast. He’s faster than the feds because they didn’t know where he shot. The range had his license on file, and Jay got ahold of it.

“Well, we don’t pay you enough,” Diane says. “Oh, I know that,” Jay laughs.  

Diane says she’s going to think about calling the feds—it's definitely the same guy.

Marissa notes someone high profile (David Cord, who I presume is a thinly veiled stand-in for David Koch given the name, his role in the plot, and the fact that he is “David Cord of the Cord Brothers”) in the lobby giving a fake name and goes to tell Liz.  

David Cord is performing magic tricks for the receptionists (they don’t recognize him) when Liz and Marissa show up. “I knew your father. I hated your father,” Cord says. “Yes, well, he hated you too,” Liz says. He says he gave a fake name to see what the reception would be like since he’s kinda infamous.  

Liz introduces Marissa as one of the law clinic lawyers. Marissa knows what to say in this situation. Specifically, she knows that it is the exact right moment to name drop her father.  

“Democrats as far as the eye can see,” Cord notes. At that, Liz asks Marissa to get Julius involved.

More good expository work! (No, editor feature of Word, I do NOT want that to say “Better expository work,” that would change my meaning, go away and please stop grading my recap??? I don’t know how I brought this up but it’s telling me my score is 72%, so a C, and it’s driving me crazy. Oh, now I’m a 71%. It had me at like, 50%, because I had written “Wackner” and “Wackner” is not a word. No shit.)  

Anyway, back to the exposition. I like that we don’t get a line like, “Liz! David Cord, the Republican super donor, is here!” We just get to see Liz’s reaction, Cord’s hate of Liz’s father, and the line about democrats. Then it becomes clearer who Cord is.

Just noticed Liz is wearing an Apple Watch.

Liz stands for her meeting with Cord, likely to maintain power. Cord says January 6th changed everything to him and now he’s all about unity and loving America.  

Cord has something to say about Liz’s case, the one that’s not making any money, and he seems to know quite a lot about it. That spooks Liz.  

Then Cord offers her $12 million to continue the case for another six months (all of these months, seemingly, will play out in the couple of days the rest of this episode takes, but, whatever). He just wants them to go after the social media company that distributed the fake news... and Section 230.

Don’t know what that is? Now you do, because there is a Good Fight short! These work so much better when they’re actually needed (explaining concepts, etc.) than when they’re trying to force one into every episode (remember that Downton Abbey one? What... was that?)  

I was talking to @mimeparadox about this short and he pointed out that this short has a VERY clear POV on an issue that actually doesn’t seem to be all that straightforward. If you’re like me and only had a vague sense of what Section 230 was prior to this episode, this short is telling you what to think of it—it isn’t just explaining what it is.

I do tend to agree with the show’s POV on most things, but this is an issue I’d like to read more on. I love how Section 230 was something I hadn’t really read up on prior to this episode and now that it’s been on TGF I realize it’s something that actually, yes, I would’ve been interested in knowing about earlier. Is this because things that are on TGF are interesting to me because they’re on TGF or is it because TGF generally only discusses things that would be interesting to me? Probs a little bit of both.  

Diane asks Jay how to make an anonymous phone call and he hands her a burner phone. She calls the FBI with the rioter’s name. She doesn’t leave her name and then she dumps the phone.  

Credits! Did you catch there’s a Jordan Boatman in the credits? She plays one of the associates who passes down the grunt work to Marissa, and she’s Michael Boatman’s daughter in real life! She’s also been in one other episode, in season 3.  

I never get tired of these credits!  

The RL partners (and some associates who are on the case? I think these are the same ones who delegated the work to Marissa?) debate whether or not they should take Cord’s money. Madeline notes that he’s funded a lot of Republican campaigns; Julius notes that both Republicans and Democrats agree that Section 230 is flawed and this is an opportunity for unity.

Diane notes that the right doesn’t want to stop conspiracy theories from spreading, so is this really that bipartisan? “It would help if the boomers would stop falling for those conspiracy theories and sharing it with their friends,” an associate (I believe this is Michael Boatman’s daughter again) notes. That quiets the room and the partners all glare at her. Yeah, that was a kind of stupid thing to say. First of all, it’s just not appropriate to say to the partners, and it’s also, like, missing the point? If it’s easy for conspiracy theories to spread among boomers, maybe just expecting each member of that generation to suddenly have a millennial’s understanding of the internet is the wrong strategy? Maybe there’s some structural issue here? That maybe, just maybe, this case is actually about?  

The associate also points out that the internet is currently a place where people can speak out about sexual harassment-- “they repeal section 230, and there would be no #MeToo.”

One of the partners says he doesn’t believe that—if they regulate section 230, then newspapers can actually be competitive and there’s still free speech online.  

“We’re not going back to reading newspapers, grandpa,” some associate says. What the actual fuck, dude? Who talks like that to their boss?! It’s so condescending. He’s also wrong! “Newspapers” are not just physical things... reporting by major publications still matters and will continue to matter. Like, is he suggesting that in the future all news will just be random people tweeting things they think are true with no fact checking or curation? Sure, journalism is struggling right now—but I don’t think that’s because there’s a lack of desire for well-reported news.  

I am glad the partners call him out on saying “grandpa” and honestly I’m shocked he isn’t asked to leave the discussion after that rude remark. Unless this young looking dude is a partner too? But I don’t think he is.  

Julius notes that if they’re going to pursue this case, they need money like Cord’s. At that, Liz starts to leave the meeting. “We haven’t decided if we’re taking this Cord money yet,” Madeline protests. “Of course we are,” Liz says and leaves.  

Now that’s more like it! I’m not sure if this is necessarily the best way to handle this, but she’s a) correct, they were always going to take the money because it is $12 million and an issue of interest and b) using her authority. Should Liz be making decisions totally on her own? Maybe not. Does Liz making this decision and then leaving (with everyone accepting that she’s correct) cut through a lot of bullshit and establish Liz as the one in charge? Yup.

Diane says, “Ooh-kay” with a little bit of an eyeroll after Liz exits, but she’s still laying low. I think in a different season Diane might’ve tried to push back.  

Is it me or does Baranski get a lot of material this episode we haven’t seen before? Lots of really good reaction shots/tones in this episode I don’t really think we’ve seen from Diane before. I’m impressed there’s still new stuff after 12 years.

At some point maybe I will actually write the essay I’ve been wanting to write for ages about how TGF is still so relevant despite being in a universe that should be showing its age by now. I wish I could find the first time that I called TGW a period piece set in the present day (I know it would’ve been during season five) because I think that’s the key to TGW/TGF’s enduring success. The shows always feel timely because they try to capture the present moment (which is, of course, always changing) and don’t get stuck in any one moment in time. Further, the fact that the writers are always so tuned in to events and skilled at quickly reacting to what happens in the world makes them VERY good in a pinch, which is (I think) why they’re able to make the most of unexpected situations (Josh leaving TGW, the pandemic).  

Liz and Julius bring a suit against ChumHum to attack 230. Judge Friend is initially skeptical of their argument that 230 is unconstitutional; then she’s intrigued. I am too. This argument about the press is a very interesting one. I obviously have a lot of reading to do on 230, but my take after this episode is pretty much that social media platforms have to be held responsible in some way, but I don’t think it’s feasible or desirable for them to be responsible for every single one of billions of posts. I think there has to be some way to regulate social media giants that would allow everyday people to share things and speak out but would prevent the curated (even by an algorithm) spread of fake news and make social media giants accountable when there are very public bad actors using their platforms. What that regulation would be I have no idea. I just refuse to believe that our options are to give the social media sites full immunity or to regulate the internet so strongly that no one is able to speak freely because all the platforms are worried about lawsuits.  

Over at the VA, people are being fired. When Kurt gets into his office, Madeline Starkey (wait, are there two characters named Madeline in this episode?) is waiting for him. She’s still very quirky and scary.  

Starkey says the guy that Diane reported is now saying Kurt trained him on using assault rifles and buying ammunition in bulk. Kurt notes these were topics covered in a group setting, which Starkey knew—and what she’s really after is the names of the others in the group. (She may already know them, since she knows there were five of them.)

Kurt refuses to name names and just stares at her.  

Case stuff happens! (I liked the last two episodes a lot but it’s much faster for me to just write, “case stuff happens” for some of the scenes.)

Hey, surprise Aaron Tveit! (Not really a surprise; he is in the credits. But still yay!)  

I don’t really know why Liz and Julius are talking about newspapers specifically and not all types of fact-based journalism/press? I feel like their argument is most convincing when it’s about actual newspapers (especially local ones) but still would apply to cable news...

Marissa’s still hard at work sorting papers when the associate comes back in and informs her she can stop; they’ve changed strategies and everything she’s done is now irrelevant. She also says “I forgot to tell you” at the start of that thought, meaning that she neglected to tell Marissa this important information earlier and wasted her time. Marissa is not pleased and so she goes to Wackner’s court, where Wackner now has a deli ticket machine and is wearing super-sized novelty sunglasses. Why not!

He sees Marissa and calls a five-minute recess. In “chambers,” Marissa tells him she’d like to work for him part-time but keep her RL job.  

Wackner needs her help processing more copyright certificates. He’s priced them competitively at $20 and found that a lot of writers want these certificates, even though they have no legal value. (Neither do actual copyrights, Wackner notes. And he notes that if anyone plagiarizes, they can sue in HIS court.)  

“Marissa, I’m building something here. I want you to join me. I want your advice on cases. I want to bounce legal theories off you,” he says. “What are your legal theories?” she asks. “I don’t know. That’s why I need to bounce them,” he says.  

Marissa gives him from noon to 2 and 5-7, which seems awfully ambitious for someone working at a law firm!

“That’s how revolutions are made. Back rooms of copy shops,” he says, accepting her offer.  

Kurt is sulking in the dark when Diane arrives home. He lets her know about Starkey’s visit and she immediately goes into lawyer mode. Notably, this scene does not spend much time on how Starkey found out the rioter’s name. Curious if they’re saving that for later or if Diane and Kurt both know what Diane must have done or if Kurt think’s it’s a coincidence.  

Kurt SET UP A TOUR OF THE CAPITOL for one of the veterans in his shooting group, and that tour was ON JANUARY 6TH! I really do wish he’d told Diane that upfront.  

Maybe the long pause where Kurt refuses to tell Diane which congressperson arranged the tour even after she promises she won’t say is him letting on that he knows that Diane ID’d the guy? Or maybe it’s just Kurt.  

I do not like the dead birds in Starkey’s office, mostly because I do not like thinking about dead birds.

Starkey compares Diane and Kurt to the Conways.  

And now more case stuff happens.  

Julius gets to question a witness for the first time in two years! He’s a little shaky at first but then he does a fantastic job! Yay Julius!

When Diane arrives at the office, reception is filled with around a hundred teddy bears. “What?” she asks. “Build-a-Bears. They were sent to Marissa,” the receptionist explains. “Okay... why?” Diane asks the logical next question. The receptionist does not know.  

“This one’s a Marissa bear,” she says, showing Diane a bear wearing boots and a wig. It does not look much like Marissa and it says “Hug me.”

Diane looks confused and furious at the same time. Her look here is, like, a milder version of the death stare she gives Alicia in Outside the Bubble when she learns about Alicia and Cary’s plan to leave.  

“Why don’t we, meaning you, take all these stuffed animals and put them in the conference room,” Diane instructs the receptionist. She is NOT! HAPPY! The receptionist seemed to be having fun with the bears, but clearly the right answer was to have done something with them and... not to have put them over every surface in reception. Eeek.  

Carmen’s new client, the rapist, arrives at the firm before anyone can hide the bears. “This may not be the firm for you,” his advisor/lawyer (I’m not totally sure what this dude’s job is) warns.  

Madeline notices the rapist and glares at the receptionist. “I know. I’m putting them in the conference room,” the receptionist says, thinking Madeline is upset about the bears. She is not upset about the bears.

Diane finds Marissa, who’s working with Carmen again. She asks Carmen to give them a moment.

“Why are there hundreds of teddy bears in our reception?” Diane asks. Marissa is confused. Diane shows her the Marissa bear. Marissa looks horrified and amused. “That doesn’t even look like me,” Marissa notes, completely missing how pissed off Diane is. I don’t think we have seen Diane be this direct/no-nonsense in ages.  

“That would seem to be beside the point. What is going on, Marissa?” Diane demands. Marissa suspects this is based on some advice she offered to a client who was buying a Build-a-Bear franchise and thinks this is a thank you gift. “What client? You’re not a lawyer! Why do you have clients?” Diane says exasperatedly.  

Marissa gives her a look, and Diane immediately understands that she’s been back to Wackner’s court. “Oh my God, this is about that Copy Coop court?”

“Marissa, no. By participating in that simulacrum of a courtroom, you exposed this firm to malpractice, sanctions, and God knows what,” Diane says. If that were really true, she wouldn’t have sat there and argued. I mean, I don’t know the legality of this all, but I feel like it’s a bigger optics issue than legal issue if Diane and other lawyers are willing to even consider participating?  

“If you wish to continue your employment at this firm, you will never do anything like that again. Do you understand?” Diane says. She will not hear any arguments.  

I love that Marissa is the thing that keeps Wackner coming back. It’s a good plot for her, but structurally, it also allows the show to keep Wackner around without many contrivances. Wackner sees that Marissa would understand what he’s up to, she sees that he shares some of her frustrations with the law, and they both want to work together again. It’s not like suddenly everyone’s talking about Wackner’s court and all the cases somehow end up there or anything.

The receptionist, who is having a truly terrible day, comes into announce that Kurt and Starkey have arrived. “Don’t put them in the conference room!” Diane commands, knowing that the teddy bears will be there. It’s too late, though, because the receptionist (who previously seemed to be fine at her job if bad at recognizing public figures and understanding that partners might not find teddy bears amusing) has already put them in the conference room. I feel bad for her, and don’t think the other things were her fault, but I feel like she could’ve seen this one coming...  

I find the teddy bears HILARIOUS, mostly because the reactions to them are so funny. It’s kind of the same gag as the balloons for Lucca in season two, but I don’t really care, because I’m getting to see Diane Lockhart treat hundreds of Build-a-Bears like they are a real work problem.

Starkey jokes about the bears; Kurt is silent.  

The rioter from the poster is now accusing Kurt of coming up with the STRATEGY for January 6th, which Kurt and Diane both dismiss as bullshit.  

I could do without Starkey’s musical cues.

I can’t tell if Kurt is in trouble here or if she’s just pressing him to name names. Why wouldn’t she just have rioter guy name names if he’s so eager to blame Kurt? I guess maybe if the others were actually there, he might be less likely to name the names of his actual co-conspirators? Or, Starkey might already know the names (surely the shooting range has logs) and be using this to raise the stakes.  

No one (except maybe the partner named Daniel) is happy about the rapist in reception. “Since when are we representing people like Wolfe-Coleman?” Julius asks. Didn’t these people help both Sweeney (though I think Sweeney was in some weird police brutality case and they didn’t actually want to represent him) and Bishop? And Rivi? But they draw the line here? Sure.  

Ah, there we go, an expository line-- “he’s the next Jeffrey Epstein”. Almost made it the whole episode without one of these. I’ll forgive it since it’s so late in the episode lol.  

“Did you approve this, Liz?!” Madeline demands. Liz did not. Daniel wonders if that means Diane approved it. Liz doesn’t think so and calls Diane (who happens to be walking past) in.  

“I know, the teddy bears. I’m working on it,” Diane says when she opens the door. I think the teddy bears are a bigger issue to Diane than to anyone else.  

Diane didn’t approve representing Mr. Rapey either. She’s uncomfortable that a meeting was happening without her; Madeline notes that she is standing there specifically because they wanted to involve her.  

David Lee pops up out of nowhere with the answer: one of the new associates (not Marissa, “the real one”) pulled in Mr. Rapey. Are there only two associates now even though orientation was for a big group?  

Firth is gone, btw. David Lee is the new Mr. Firth. I have no idea why David would want to be STR Laurie’s guy for managing RL but... sure, whatever? David Lee is an effective antagonist, especially in small doses, and this allows the writers to keep him around and continue the STR Laurie plot without a key guest star. If STR Laurie is still a thing, and it seems like it is going to be a thing for a while, then having David Lee take on this role makes sense for plot. Otherwise they’re going to have to shoehorn him in to every plot somehow. At least now he has a reason to be around.  

Liz and Diane take a walk to chat. Diane is worried about having David as their boss. Liz says she has a worse worry—David Lee knew exactly when to come downstairs with information, suggesting he know what they were talking about. “Would he do something like that?” Liz asks when Diane wonders if there’s a bug. “Oh, yeah,” Diane replies. Hah, yeah. He absolutely would.  

They decide to have Jay search for bugs and Liz is frustrated with how much time they have to spend on things other than lawyering. Yup.

“What is going on with all the teddy bears in the conference room?” Liz asks as they head back to the office. “It’s a long story,” Diane sighs. I also love that the teddy bears link the various pieces of the episode together—it feels like all of these threads are happening simultaneously because of that constant.  

I don’t get RL’s approach to clients. Bishop and Rivi are ok, Wolfe-Colman is not (except that actually he is fine). Cord is okay too. Do they draw the line anywhere? I know Liz was right when she said that OF COURSE they were taking the money, but is there really nothing that differentiates that situation from this one? I feel like there should be.

Marissa goes back to see Wackner. Since someone refuses to say “I respect and I love you,” Wackner reverses his ruling. This is part of the “Bad Loser Law of last Wednesday,” so the rules of Wackner’s court are clearly a work in progress.

Marissa explains she can’t be the law clerk because of Diane. She tries to connect him with a real lawyer, still not understanding exactly what Wackner’s after. “You know just enough not to crush what I’m doing here,” Wackner explains. “A real lawyer will look for reasons why not. I need someone to look for reasons why.”  

Case stuff happens. I cannot read Cord’s handwriting. Liz and Julius lose the case because Judge Friend says what’s happening isn’t fair, but it is constitutional. (So here we have, at least in the show’s POV, a good and attentive judge who can’t make decisions that make sense because she’s bound by a document written before anyone had ever dreamed of the internet.)  

Cord is waiting for Liz in her office. He’s prepared to bankroll an appeal. Did they blow thorough that $12 million already? Impressive; it’s been like a day.  

Cord says they are definitely the firm he wants. Interesting.

Now Liz wants a meeting with Carmen, so it’s Marissa who leaves the room. This scene seems like it was meant to be a different day?  

Liz wants to talk about Mr. Rapey. Carmen is, yet again, chill about the case. “Carmen, is there anyone that you would not represent?” Liz asks. Funny, Liz, I could ask you the same. Being hesitant about it is not changing the fact that you’re representing bad people. Carmen’s just cutting the bullshit.  

“I don’t understand. Is there someone you don’t want me to represent?” I love how Carmen’s incredibly polite responses always seem very pointed. There is absolutely nothing wrong with Carmen’s reply, and yet it puts Liz in a place where she can’t dance around what she’s trying to say.  

“I’m just trying to get a sense of who you are,” Liz explains.  

Then Liz decides she’s going to help on the Craig Wolfe-Colman (Mr. Rapey) case, and they will keep talking about her career path. Liz, this does not seem like the right solution! You're worried about your associate representing bad people so you’re like, I know, what if I ALSO represented bad people? If your goal is to convince Carmen not to take clients like this, you’re kinda shooting yourself in the foot!  

“Are you worried about me?” Carmen says, again turning things on Liz. “I don’t know what I am about you,” Liz replies. Me either. Well, I know I'm intrigued, but beyond that, no clue!

All the bears have ended up in Diane’s office, where Wackner is waiting. He jokes about how his court is always seen as informal, yet this real fancy law office is covered in Build-a-Bears. Then he says he wants to hire RL—he's willing to pay. He wants consultation from Marissa (“consultation on legal issues”) and he’s prepared to spend a lot. And, if there’s one thing we know, it’s that they’re always going to take the money. So, they do.

I love that Wackner’s goal is to “perfect my little clubhouse of the law.” It’s a fun plot, and it also allows for the rules in his court to change (I’m sure we’re going to be treated to/subjected to a lot of whimsical gags around changing and ridiculous rules). It's also a good way to work through the thought experiment over the course of the season. It’s not like Wackner already has a system set up and it’s perfect—I'm sure we’re going to see his system run into issues and explore that more, too.  

Wackner monologues a bit here about why he’s running fake court, and he lets us know he’s going to monologue. Basically he thinks people no longer want to help people and are only motivated by their own self interest. He notes that no one talks about the Peace Corps anymore and asks the last time Diane heard anyone say those words. I’m sure I’ve heard a reference more recently but my mind went RIGHT to season one Cary Agos saying “Peace Corps. Belize,” as some kind of smarmy pickup line. This is likely not where my mind was supposed to go.

Wackner wants “A new Peace Corps. For America.” Diane’s sympathetic to that and agrees to take him on as a client.  

Wackner asks if he can take a bear. Diane instructs him to take two.  

Aaaand Wackner and Cord end up on the elevator together. Wackner hands Cord a bear, the elevator doors close, and the episode ends. Since last episode ended with Marissa and Carmen in the elevator together, I’m hoping this will be how every episode this season ends. I think using the Kings’ favorite liminal space to transition between episodes is kind of fun, and it fits with the ellipses at the end of every episode title.  

Speaking of... did you see today’s elevator-themed episode of Evil? It was written by the Kings. Those two have been obsessed with elevators for at least a decade.  

[madlilsongbird]

Watching The Amazing Spidernan movies so that I’m all caught up before No Way Home. Will add my thoughts as I have them. Note I am not some big Spider-Man fan nor have I read the comics so if my thoughts sound kinda stupid they probably are.

First movie:

That’s a good trick with the broom. Making a mental note as we speak.

Actually seeing Peter say goodbye to his parents is horrible and I would like to never experience it again

SALLY FIELD IS AUNT MAY?! Why does this one have the good cast? (not good as in better but good as in more well known)

The sexual tension in “good morning flash…good morning Peter” (this is a joke I’m not shipping him with his bully)

Jesus roid rage much?

Shut your blinds! I don’t know who would be looking in your window at this exact moment but close them anyway!

First careful, you never know who is watching what you search (when did I become this person)

Second…curt connors is ableist.

Poor Rodrigo Guevara

Oh internalised ableism. And that is the only comment I will make going forward because my disabilities do not include limb difference and I dont want to overstep.

Stop following the man, you are not subtle…wait wtf how’d he do that?!

This is where he gets his powers right?

Okay but when would 5 men make that much of a fuss over a woman that only 1 of them seems to know?

Same. (This is in reference to smashing the alarm clock)

Oh my god is it really necessary to show all the different kinds of spider bites.

Actually just going back to the internalised ableism thing…he is allowed to feel whatever type of way about his own disability that is his right. But insinuating that all disabled people are weak and wanting to breed out the weakness is eugenics and just kinda gross. THIS is the final comment I will make on the matter.

No but seriously he is way more aggressive than regular teen boy aggressive so either he’s on something or he’s overcompensating for something

The way he looks at him doe (again all jokes am not shipping flash and Peter)

Why is this so awkward? And not like teens navigating a crush awkward just genuinely awkward. I feel no chemistry between them.

I like the song, it’s an interesting choice for this scene but I like it.

Stop does uncle Ben die now? Like I know uncle Ben dies at some point but I was really kinda hoping he just wouldn’t in this iteration. I was going for a ninth doctor moment “just this once everybody lives”

MOTHERFUCKER

God Sally is incredible

Don’t show me moments of Flash being human I might accidentally start shipping them for real and that simply can’t happen.

Oooh he’s a fashion designer

I just really enjoy how he takes the piss out of his victims? Arrests?

Is Gwen aware that the school nurse can’t cure everything? Both legally and just like generally doesn’t have the knowledge to cure everything. She suggests going to the nurse a lot.

This family gives me bad vibes

This is a long movie…it’s not even half way through

Well that’s one way to tell her

NOT GEORGE FOYET!

I think with what I remember of SpiderTobey and what I know of SpiderTom, Andrews Spider-Man is definitely better with the people he’s rescuing. Smoother, good bedside manner.

His sons name is Jack. Why does that make me angry?

So he’s just not gonna rescue the other people hanging off the bridge?

It’s almost poetic that the son of the man tried to stop him the first time will be the one to stop him now

Now how is he getting enough power in the sewer

No means no Peter

Does she die in this one or the next one? I don’t imagine her dying will help captain stacey see him as a good guy

Stan 🥺

This movie is exhausting and I don’t know if I mean that in a good way or a bad way.

MoThEr HuBbArD aRe YoU sErIoUs

He managed to get three whole words out and you didn’t think to ease up on the trigger a little to hear what those words might be?

She’s very clever and I will be sad to see her go

That wasn’t her scream. Or it was but from a different take.

Foyet about to be coming in clutch

I’m going to cry.

He’s so ugly. Some lizards are really cute but lizard + human, kinda gross looking.

Well shit. I didn’t know that happened. I guess what I said about him being upset with Peter about Gwen is irrelevant. Unless it isn’t, like if you believe in the afterlife, imagine how pissed he’s gonna be when Gwen arrives.

He finally got the eggs 🥺

As someone who’s boyfriend at the time didn’t go to her fathers funeral I feel ya Gwen. I mean I don’t care now but at the time it sucked.

Dr Connors was just in a silly goofy mood. He seems to show genuine care for the boy (this is mostly sarcasm).

Second movie

Oh we’re going back to peters dad.

How do they have access to a private jet?

Miss Honey is badass

Ngl I’m actually quite relieved they both died before the plane crashed. Stil devastating though.

Okay so this is first up on the list of potential mystery villains in No Way Home…he looks like a tool.

HeLLo PeDeStRiAnS

He really just let Spider-Man put his hand on his tongue. Sir do you know where his hand has been? Not to mention just in general the feeling of spandex on your tongue. I feel ill.

No respect for the proper care of plutonium.

Please don’t ever say “come to daddy” again 😂

I’m kinda sad Jamie Fox becomes a villain, his character seems kinda sweet so far from the 2 seconds I’ve seen of him

You mean to tell me he missed his girlfriend’s fathers funeral AND her valedictorian speech?!

Stan x2 🥺

Because you can’t lose me you’re going to lose me? 😂

I love her jacket

Why are they still pretending like she doesn’t know?

I may have spoken to soon about Max

See I would be speeding up daddy’s death if he told me he’d passed down a genetic disease and just decided not to tell me.

Friendship.

Okay max is still a little bit nutty but you gotta feel bad for the guy. He must’ve been so scared.

Don’t smile that’s not cute, if he was a regular boy you’d file a restraining order.

Oh I see Spider-Man is gonna fight him which will make him turn and become the “bad guy” whether he will actually be a bad guy is still unknown.

This scene is actually kinda just making me angry (the time square scene)

Cops suck man. Peter was talking him down just fine.

Did nobody teach these people not to touch metal when there’s electricity about.

Interesting that I didn’t pick up any chemistry from them in the first movie weren’t they an actual couple for a while?

Another good song with an interesting placement

I’m sorry did the caller ID not say Mary Parker? How was it Harry on the phone?

Run Gwen!

This version of Harry is kinda creepy I’m sure the actor is swell but the character is terrifying. Original version Harry was swell whereas the actor is…

“Maybe everyone has a part of themselves they hide” gives him the eye

This movies shorter or at least it feels shorter

An excellent show of what happens when you tell a rich daddy’s boy no for the first time.

This makes me very sad. She’s so excited for the possibility of Oxford.

As much as Harry disturbs me, I want him to burn his entire team.

His daddy really did love him!

I think it’s mostly his eyes, his behaviour can be explained by trauma (why I find Harry creepy)

Okay most of his behaviour. The taking joy in killing people that’s just him being nutty and not a trauma response.

This is fucked up. And where is Peter? he is off chasing a girl who has broken up with him twice now.

PLANES NEED THE POWER!

I really like SpiderAndrew, the movies are fine but as a character I thoroughly enjoy him

Sorcerers apprentice who?

Captain Stacy can’t blame him! She’s clearly stubborn as hell and her own free woman

I quite literally stopped breathing (in reference to the almost plane crash)

Is this why they made it Gwen and not MJ so that he could kill her and be an actual bad guy? From my little knowledge of the comics and what I’ve seen from the movies Harry would never hurt MJ so it had to be someone else important to Peter but not super important to him for him to a real bad guy

I like that Harry actually looks like a goblin.

What was the disease he’s supposed to have?

This poor family. I know I said they gave me bad vibes in the first movie but nobody deserves this.

He looks less like a tool with his suit on…but only slightly less

Baby you better get back behind that baracade!

Nobody talk to me I’m very emotional. This child looks very much like a magical mix of all 3 of my brothers put together and seeing him stand there so brave but so scared is doing something to me.

Final thoughts:

So I think SpiderAndrew might be a close second favourite for me. I like the relationships of the original the most, the comedy of the mcu version the most but this one was like a nice in between. Im a little disappointed there won’t be a third not cos I think I would have enjoyed it just cos the original had 3 movies, the mcu version will have at least 3 movies and this one is left out with 2. Don’t think I would have loved Shailene Woodley as MJ though so I dunno. I think the only thing I would have wanted from a third movie is to know who fedora guy is…and for Peter and May to acknowledge that they both know that he is Spider-Man. Apart from that it was fine and I now feel fully prepared for No Way Home.

[saiilorstars]

Dare To Forget Me

Ch. 30: There For Her 

Previous chapters // Montserrat's masterlist

Fandom: SVU // Pairing:  Rafael Barba x OFC

Warnings: Due to the nature of the series’ plots, I do have to rate this as ‘mature’ for constant mentions of rape.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel​ @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles @averyhotchner [If you’d like to be added to this specific OC’s stories/edits, send me a message!]

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Chapter Summary: Things couldn't seem to be going worse for Montserrat. At least she has Rafael with her, though he's struggling at the moment too considering he can't shake off the other woman who won't stop calling him.

Montserrat's presence in the bullpen was immediately question when she walked in that morning. "I mean, you could try saying 'good morning'," her sarcasm seemed to be completely intact. She let her things drop on her desk before giving each of her co-workers a look for their bombardment of questions. "That hasn't gone out of style."

"We just figured you wouldn't show up for a few days," Fin said what everyone else was thinking.

"I want to keep my job and besides...these days where I have been gone...have been way too hard," she took a seat and scooted closer to her desk. "I think a little distraction might be good."

"But is your brother okay, then?" Amanda inquired.

"Calhoun is trying to sort things out with the evidence that Damian supplied her with. Maybe by the end of the day...my brother might be out," Montserrat's small smile was still so full of hope the others wished she was right. "But tell me how's Nick?"

"He's been arraigned," Olivia answered and soon the grimness started spreading to the rest of the squad. "1PP won't budge and none of us have $500,000 lying around."

"The judge seriously posted that as his bail?" Montserrat gaped. "That's outrageous! Not to mention, ridiculous?"

"Yeah, well, they're pinning it on the fact this isn't Nick's first offence," Sonny shook his head. "And Murphy isn't trying to do much for him."

"Hm, so now you're not really liking him either," Montserrat found a moment to smirk.

"He's not letting us help by investigating!" Sonny exclaimed in frustration. "We're just supposed to sit here and continue our work as if our friend isn't in trouble."

"Speaking of work…" Montserrat turned her chair to the others, "Not that I'm moving on from Nick, but...I heard we caught a new case? International vic?"

"Yeah, not really going anywhere though," Amanda bitterly remarked as she opened up her laptop. "Our vic was scammed by a girl and her pimp. Hans Erhard was a tourist from Germany and he answered a Craigslist for a New York girlfriend experience."

"We have both the girl and her pimp in custody but none of them are talking," Olivia shook her head.

"Can I take a crack at it?" Montserrat's question was so volunteering that it really sounded as if she was just her regular self. "I mean, maybe a fresh new detective?"

"Well how about you catch up on it first?" Murphy had walked into the bullpen with a coffee in hand. "Welcome back, detective. How's your brother?"

"As well as he could be in jail," Montserrat sighed and pushed herself up from her desk. "But this case...what do you have for me to review?"

Murphy directed her to their pinboard in the conference area. The good thing about Montserrat was that she really did catch on fast. In thirty minutes she knew exactly what they were dealing: two scammers looking for a quick buck in innocent tourists. Ellie Porter, the girl they'd brought in, was still waiting for a legal aid while her pimp - Little Tino - was already talking with his lawyer to get him out.

While the squad discussed their next plans, a tall dark-haired man in a nice suit walked in. By the briefcase he carried, it was presumed that he was a lawyer, later confirmed when he spoke up. "I'm looking for Ellie Porter. Sorry I'm late. I just caught the case."

"I thought you said you were waiting for her public defender?" Montserrat turned to the rest for some answers.

"We were," Fin answered while keeping his eyes keenly on the new man.

Olivia walked over to him, looking pretty comfortable in his presence but not very happy to see him. "Uh, guys,meet Trevor Langan. He's a, uh, high-priced mouthpiece for lowlifes."

Langan didn't seem the least bit offended by the introduction. In fact, he had something to add on. "And you, once. How soon we forget."

His words instigated some confusion amongst Montserrat, Sonny and Amanda but Fin motioned them not to even ask.

"It's nice to see you, detective," Langan offered a genuine smile at Olivia, leading the newer detectives to conclude he wasn't their typical Buchanan or even Calhoun type of lawyer.

"It's actually sergeant now," Olivia corrected. "So what, you caught a pro bono?"

"Yeah. Do a few of them a year. It keeps me an honest lawyer."

"An oxymoron," Murphy walked out of the office to find the new lawyer.

"Uh, this is our new C.O., Lieutenant Murphy," Olivia introduced.

"Wow. A lot of changes around here," Langan eyed the trio of detectives before giving Murphy a side-glance. Ultimately, he returned his gaze to Olivia with a different type of expression. One could say it was more caring than any other lawyer the squad had seen in the precinct. "And, uh...you, are you doing okay with, uh…everything?"

Olivia gave a nod of her head and made to turn. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks."

Murphy led Langan away so he could speak with Ellie.

"He's tall," Amanda remarked.

"Yeah, like that's a skill set," Olivia returned to her seat at the conference table.

"And good looking," Montserrat had to add which immediately earned her a disapproving look from Olivia. "Sorry, you two have history or what?"

Olivia humorlessly laughed. "I don't date lawyers."

"Since when?" Amanda then asked which silenced Olivia and left quite a few unanswered questions for Montserrat.

A few hours later, they had Ellie and Tino in lineups for Hans to ID.

"You okay?" Olivia asked Rafael when the ADA strode into bullpen. He'd come to oversee the lineups but he didn't appear to be his regular self.

"What? I'm fine," he said dismissively but the more he tried to be casual the less successful he was.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Montserrat noticed his grim face that also seemed pale for some reason. "I'm the one whose brother's in jail, why are you so upset?"

Rafael wouldn't answer. He looked to the side and all but puffed. It was a strange sight to see him so...shaken, because that's exactly what he looked like right now. His fingers twitched even though they were inside his pockets. His eyes couldn't seem to find a spot to look at for more than a few seconds.

"Get the lineup started," he told (or rather ordered) Olivia after a few pensive seconds.

Olivia blinked and cast a look at the rest of the squad. "Uh, okay…" she rose from her seat and headed for the corridor.

"You sure you good, councilor?" Sonny asked after a few seconds of watching Rafael continue to shift in his spot.

"Yes, now stop pestering me about irrelevant things." Now granted, his snap did sound like himself but his overall appearance was more than enough to think the contrary.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today," Amanda muttered to the others as she got up.

"For that to happen, he'd actually have to sleep…" Montserrat of course expected a snap for her remark, but it never came. She frowned but before she could point out his lack of participation in their usual go, Olivia returned and announced that the lineup ready to go.

"You sure you're good?" Montserrat still managed to ask before Rafael had to follow after Olivia.

"Yes," he answered in a rushed manner, almost as if the faster he answered the quick they would all just move on from it. Well, Montserrat wasn't going to risk getting yelled at for asking again.

Hand Erhard had arrived a few minutes later, with crutches and a bruised face, and headed directly for the lineup. He recognized Ellie straightaway, but when it came to Tino...it was a miss.

"You need to start seeing Ellie as a victim," Langan trailed after Olivia when the lineup had finished, but the sergeant looked close to throwing him out. "She was pimped out at 16-"

"-she tried to pull a gun on Murphy," Olivia reminded him.

"Yeah, coerced by her pimp!"

Before the argument went further, Montserrat distanced herself due to her ringing phone. "It's Calhoun," she told the others before taking the call. Hope immediately filled her face as she answered Calhoun. Her brother could finally leave that hellhole and return to his normal life. "Tell me when I can pick him up."

But just as hope had filled her in seconds, it vanished in the same speed. If Rafael had been pale before, Montserrat beat him no questions asked. She was as white as a sheet. "What-what do you mean…?" her voice had turned frail, even her body looked as if she was swaying.

The others began to assume what Rita was telling the detective on the other line. But just like that, Montserrat bolted into a run, almost shoving Fin to the side in her run.

"Hey!?" the poor detective was left to call as he stumbled to stay on his feet.

"Something's wrong," Sonny assumed and hurried after Montserrat, prompting the others to do the same.

Montserrat had come back to the conference table where their television was on and scrambled to pick up the remote with one hand while still holding onto her phone in her other hand. She'd turned the television on and flipped to the news channel where an ongoing report was airing.

'The Florence Commercial building that collapsed two days ago has now claimed its first deaths,' the reporter was in the middle of saying, 'Two victims have been reported as deceased after being hospitalized for severe injuries…'

Montserrat fervently shook her head as if that would make it all go away. "What does that mean!?" she demanded from Rita on the phone. While the others couldn't hear Rita's words, they could pretty much assume the situation. By the time Montserrat hung up, she was ready to fall back. And seeing that prompted Sonny to pull up a chair right behind her. She fell back on it with ease, making the others wonder what would've happened if there hadn't been a chair there in the first place.

"They're going to treat this as hom...homicide…" she barely got the wretched word out. It was too disgusting.

"But you said Damian had the evidence…" Sonny said, but Montserrat shrugged in the same confusion he had.

"Everything changes when someone dies," Rafael said quietly. He looked at the others and willed them to remember their own cases and what typically happens when they had a homicide-rape on their hands.

"What the hell am I supposed to do? He's being arraigned this afternoon and then there's going to be a trial date? As if he's an actual criminal?" Montserrat frantically started to ramble. "I've got nothing to help him with. That evidence should've been enough, I…" she shook her head and let a hand cover her quiet sobs. "It should've been enough, it should've..."

The others exchanged looks with each other, all deciding they needed to help her stat. She was right in that the evidence should've been enough to get Gael out, but as Rafael pointed out...things got more complicated once there was murder. Still, it didn't mean it was impossible to prove Gael's innocence.

"Montserrat," Rafael was the one to cut the silence as he moved to Montserrat's chair. He bent down in front of her when she refused to look at anyone. "We can't help you if you don't let us," he said harsher than he would've liked, but then again that's really the only way she'd listen right now.

Montserrat only slightly lowered her hand but it was enough to showcase her reddened eyes. It was honestly a whole other side of her that neither Rafael nor the others had ever seen. "I can't do anything, weren't you listening?"

"Yes, and I think that you did the fatal mistake of listening to yourself," Rafael's counter-argument had her frowning in confusion. "You are a detective. Finding evidence is your job. That's all this is right now: you going back and finding evidence."

"Yeah except I'm usually the one who proves they're guilty," Montserrat sighed a shaky sigh.

"It doesn't mean you'd do your job worse. So listen, everyone here-" Rafael made a gesture at the others keenly watching him, "-is willing to help you but it will not make a difference if you've given up already."

"It's not that I've given up it's that…" Montserrat scrunched her face the more she tried to come up with a perfect way of describing how she felt, but all that came out was an exclaim that sounded more like a child's cry. "Dammit, Rafael, my brother's in jail and I feel like my world is crashing down on me!" Her look of anger on him didn't bother him in the least.

"And being hopeless is going to help you how?" his answer seemed to be upsetting her more.

"Councilor-" Sonny tried to intervene but Rafael pointed a finger for him not to even try interrupting. Sonny retracted his step and looked at the others with an 'I tried' expression.

However, his attempt to intervene did make Rafael realize he wasn't getting this whole 'comfort' thing. It was frustrating, honestly, because he wanted to help Montserrat. He wanted to ease her pain as much as he could but every time he opened his mouth he just made it worse. He'd never been good at that stuff. He never knew what to do.

He looked at Montserrat again, this time forcing any snaps at mind to stay away. She was still giving him that angry expression he was all too familiar with. "What time is he being arraigned?"

"Two o'clock," she answered but the mere reminder of what was to come forced most of the anger to fade from her face. New tears were threatening to roll down her face.

There came a relentless urge to hold her. It took everything he had not to do it. "I'll come with you to arraignment. We'll see exactly what Gael is being charged with and then we can work from there, okay?"

Montserrat nodded her head. "Okay. Will you actually come?"

Rafael smiled and gave her a tilted-head look. "When do I ever joke?" Now it was Montserrat's turn to smile, even if it was just for a second he would take it.

The others felt like they were witnessing something private that they needed to walk away from, but Montserrat unknowingly beat them to it. She pushed herself up from her chair and straightened herself up. She rubbed her face clear of any tears and took in a deep breath. "Okay fine. The Manhattan D.A wants a fight, I'll give them one. Hell, they've never had 2 Novaks and Calhoun all going against them, have they?"

"No," answered Rafael as he, too, straightened on his feet. "And I'd honestly wish them luck, but that wouldn't necessarily be true would it?"

"Listen, Montserrat, why don't you go and see Casey?" Fin suggested and looked back into the hallway where Olivia and Langan were still at. "We'll explain to Liv and Murphy. It's not like they'd say no."

"Honestly I'm a little fearful for the future of my job," Montserrat admitted, but even then it was evident that she would be leaving anyways. "I've been away too much…"

"Hey, we got this," Amanda assured her.

Montserrat agreed with a nod of her head and went to collect her things. It felt ridiculous that she'd just came back to work and was already taking off again but at the same time...her brother needed her. She couldn't be too far away.

"For the rest of you," Rafael looked at the remaining group with an expression akin to irritation, "You've got almost next to nothing on the Hans Erhard rape. One I.D. and it's not even the rapist."

"Are you feeling better now?" Amanda's sarcasm, that included a sarcastic smile, earned herself a glare from the ADA.

"Get something more or the case dies," he left it at that and it was only because he felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. Soon as he took it out and saw the text message on the screen, his face turned pale again and his fingers seemed to start twitching again. He was nervous. "I have to go," he said in a mutter and made a hasty way out.

Can we have lunch today? - Yelina.

As much as he hated to, Rafael responded with a 'yes' because if he continued to say no, and blow her off, she would just come back to her office. Maybe if he had let her talk the night she appeared in his office, he wouldn't be having lunch with her now.

"You look like you've seen a ghost again," Montserrat's voice pulled Rafael's face from his phone. She was waiting for the elevator to arrive. "Which is funny because I've never seen you go that shade of color. Let me in on the secret so I can use it for later." He rolled his eyes but somewhere inside her playfulness alleviated some of his stress.

The elevator dinged and its doors slid open. Montserrat stepped inside first and waited for Rafael to follow before pressing the down button.

"Montserrat, I need to...apologize," Rafael suddenly started. Montserrat's side-glance was one akin to 'the hell are you talking about?' while he went on. "I'm not very good with...comfort words." And even now it was easy to see the struggle for Rafael to even say that. It was amazing yet ridiculous that he wasn't good with words around her, but he could easily have the right words to prosecute low-lives. Montserrat would do that to him a lot, make him question the simplest of actions he would usually take in other situations where she wasn't involved. But for Montserrat right now it was the funniest thing she ever saw on him. "I don't do a lot of comfort. And I know half of what I told you earlier was done in snaps-"

Montserrat had suddenly turned and hugged him. It was a tight hug that she'd been wanting ever since hell started with her brother's arrest, but she hadn't been brave enough to go for it. Right now, she just couldn't be bothered with the process of thinking 'should I or should I not?'. She let her chin rest on his shoulder. "You're doing just fine."

A small smile came to Rafael's face. His arms wrapped around her waist and held her tight. A few seconds later, one of his hands traveled up to her fiery hair and let his fingers stroke through her waves. Her hair was incredibly soft he imagined what it would be like running his hands through the rest of it somewhere else, somewhere nicer and private. You have to stop right there, he berated himself.

If only he knew how much his gentle touch affected her. Montserrat felt a wave of calmness wash over her within seconds of his first stroke. She wanted to him to keep holding her and just hear from him that everything was going to be fine. But she felt the elevator come to a stop, warning the two that the doors would be opening soon.

Montserrat pulled away just enough to where Rafael could still hold onto her. "You'll come to arraignment?" she asked as if she was scared that he had already changed his mind.

Rafael reassured her with a nod. "Of course. I'll be there." He brought a hand to rest on her cheek, and even when the elevator doors, his founds soothed small circles over er skin. "I promise you I'll be there."

A relieved smile spread across Montserrat's face. "Thank you. Really. You really are doing just fine." She turned away and left the elevator first, but the moment she was out her skin where his fingers had been ached for his soft touch.

Okay, maybe she felt a little better…

~0~

Alright. In and out. In and Out. Rafael was as confident as he could be when he took a seat across the woman he'd been avoiding with great difficulty. "Alright, I'm here. Let's get to it."

Yelina was no stranger to dirty looks anymore, not after the scandal that practically tore her family apart. She'd been subjected to doubtful and condescending stares, angry snaps, and the old fashion cold shoulder. But none of that she expected from Rafael. It certainly didn't make her decision to reach out to him seem like the best option, but she had a good motive.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," she finally spoke a few minutes, but she noticed Rafael constantly looking around the restaurant as if they were doing something wrong. "I didn't really know what to do…"

"Really? And of all people to talk to, you chose me?"

Yelina tilted her head at him, genuinely looking upset. "Why are you treating me like this?" The choice of her softened tone almost made Rafael do a double-take at her.

"Are you - are you kidding me!?" he snapped on instinct. Not even her flinch made any effect to stop him. Actually, it might have angered him more seeing her try to be so innocent. "Do you not remember what happened? Because you do remember the part where you warned me to back off when they were investigating Alex? I had Alex on the other side going on about me trying to bring him down out of jealousy. So excuse me if I'm a little upset that now you want to act like nothing happened."

"...fair enough," Yelina released a sigh. "I didn't know that was how I came across…"

"Really?" Rafael nearly laughed. "Don't insult my intelligence, Yelina. Now can we get to the reason why you're here? Why I'm here? I have somewhere else to be."

"Please don't be this curt with me," Yelina's softness had disappeared, replaced with a more serious yet sharp expression. It was more like her, honestly. That look Rafael knew well. Whenever she was pissed off, that's the look you got. "It was hard swallowing my pride to call you and I want to believe that despite what happened...we can still be civilized friends."

"I don't know about that, to be honest." In another time, maybe Rafael would actually think about that idea, but for some reason there was no desire to stay in contact. At all. "You tried to manipulate me the last time we saw each other-"

Offense etched across Yelina's face at the accusation. "-I wasn't-"

"-yes, you were." And the worst part was, it hadn't even been him who saw it. He missed it because he - admittedly - had clung to the last bit of friendship he had with her, the last bit of nostalgia he had. Montserrat saw it, Rafael remembered perfectly the way in which he had snapped at Montserrat after she had made the comment. She'd only been looking out for him, like she always did even when he didn't deserve it. But that was Montserrat. She was always there.

"Rafael?" Yelina had been watching him for the minutes he spent in silence. There was a familiar look on his face but she didn't want to think about it too much, at least not now.

Her call did indeed pull Rafael back to the present. Soon as he was back he set for business, whatever that business might be anyways. "Why are we here?"

Yelina bit her tongue so as to not snap at his flat tone. "My husband is facing trial and God knows how many years."

"And? You're not seriously going to ask me to put in a good word for him, are you?"

"...maybe I just wanted to reach out to the only person who's willing to talk to me right now."

Rafael paused and gave her a strange look. "What?"

"You can imagine with all these accusations-"

"-and evidence," Rafael cut in with the truth, even if it did irritate her.

"Not a lot of people want anything to do with us, with me," the woman lowered her gaze. "I had to pull my daughters from their school. They're... they're the target for bullying, for hatred...I don't know what to do."

Dammit. She was being honest. She looked honest. And that's what made it difficult for Rafael to remain stoic. She could be playing tricks but right now she just looked vulnerable. In another time, that would've reeled him right to her. And the fact it didn't have the same effect right now was startling...in a good way though. It almost made him proud.

He felt the buzz of his phone in his pocket. While he checked who it was, he was aware of Yelina's hawk-stare.

Arraignment is in half an hour. Will you come? - Montserrat.

"Something important?" There was unmistakable sharpness in Yelina's question, or rather demand, and it kind of irritated him. Where did she get off being that demanding when he was doing her a favor by showing up to this awkward lunch.

"Yes, actually," Rafael sent back a quick 'yes' to Montserrat and stuffed his phone back into his pocket. "I need to go."

"We're not done," Yelina shook her head. "You haven't said anything to me except take jabs at my pain. I thought there was at least a shred of kindness you could offer me. Did I dare think too much? Is there nothing you can offer me now?" She reached her hand across the table to touch Rafael's.

The ADA flinched but he didn't pull his hand away. He was, admittedly, taken by surprise.

~0~

Montserrat was biting into her index nail to the point of drawing blood. Twice Casey had yanked Montserrat's hand down and shot her a look not to do it again.

"What are you, 5?" the ADA whisper-hissed. They were waiting in the hallway, just outside the arraignment room.

"I'm 30, stressed, and my brother's going to trial, so I will act anyway I want to!" Montserrat snapped and promptly stuck her nail between her teeth.

Casey groaned and rolled her eyes. She turned away and saw familiar figures coming down the hall towards them. "There's uncle Thomas. Least he's not alone either."

Montserrat followed her direction to see her father and Damian. "Dad," she went to hug him first.

"Hi sweetheart," Thomas hugged her tightly. He couldn't believe they were here. "How are you holding up?"

"Hm, as much as I can be," Montserrat bit her lower lip like it was gum.

"The girls, Juliana and Ivanna-"

"They're at school right now and Kara's picking them up. I'm taking care of them, Dad, I promise."

"I never said you weren't, dear. I just imagine it's difficult with your schedule…"

"I'm taking some time off."

"Again?"

Montserrat felt the underlying insinuation that she'd been missing too much work, but at the same time what was she supposed to do? Work like nothing while her brother faces criminal charges?

"It's fine, uncle Thomas," Casey said as she gave the man a quick hug. "The thing about being a cop and an ADA is that you don't have to explain a lot when you're out. People just think you're doing work."

"Or people think you're recusing yourself," a tall blonde woman appeared behind Thomas and Damian. The two men looked back then retracted the same steps so that the blonde could get through.

Soon as she saw her, Casey glared. "Geraghty," she practically spat the blonde's name out.

"I assume this is the family," Geraghty looked at the rest with icy blue eyes. "Since Casey had to recuse herself from the case due to, um, well…" her thin eyebrows twitched upwards.

"Because we're family," Casey said it just to end the woman's drama.

"Well, I'll be prosecuting the case. ADA Geraghty," she introduced herself but quickly moved into business. "You should know that I am going for reckless endangerment and Manslaughter."

"He's innocent," Montserrat said through gritted teeth, but Geraghty only smiled dismissively.

"I'll see you all in a bit," she moved on from the group and left a terse air behind.

"She seems...lovely…" Damian said quietly but Casey scoffed loudly.

"She's a bitch. And she's been after my job for a while. This is the first time I ever had to recuse myself from a case so of course she nabbed the job the moment she could."

"Casey I'm sorry," Thomas apologized but Casey scoffed again.

"Are you kidding me? Nothing will make me happier than to see her being forced to drop the charges when we prove Gael is innocent."

A short moment later, the doors were open for arraignments. Gael wouldn't be the first one to be brought out, so it left quite some time of waiting. And waiting meant a lot more thinking was done, leading to horrible thoughts.

"Did Calhoun say anything about her strategies?" Montserrat quietly asked Casey during their wait time at the benches. "I haven't been able to get in contact with her today even though I'm pretty sure I bombarded her phone with voicemails."

"Not really, but since we're on her side, it'll be good," Casey said with certainty Montserrat wished she had too.

When Gael's turn was nearing, the group decided to go inside and find a seat. The only reason Montserrat stayed behind was due to Sonny and Liv coming towards her.

"What are you guys doing here?" Montserrat blinked at their presence. "Murphy's going to have a fit when he realizes half of his employees are gone."

"Don't worry, he knows we're just here for the arraignment," Olivia said to ease the woman's concerns.

"And for anything you might need from us," added Sonny.

"Thanks," Montserrat sighed. She looked into the arraignment room with nothing but dread. "I don't know what's going to happen...the ADA is, as Casey put it, a bitch. So good luck to my brother."

"It'll be fine, c'mon," Olivia motioned Montserrat to go in first but Montserrat seemed to want to stay behind a bit longer.

"Do you need a moment?" assumed the Sergeant.

"Yeah, kinda," Montserrat nodded. It was enough to send the two in without more questions. Yes she did need a little break to herself but, if she was being honest, she was also making time.

He's late, she thought after checking the time. But even when she wanted to further fall, she berated herself. He's got things to do. Be glad he even offered to stop by. Montserrat closed her eyes for a moment, at least to calm herself down before she would have to go inside.

"Montserrat?" Rafael called when she turned for the doors. He picked up his pace to get to her on time. "I'm so sorry I'm late. I-I was…" He didn't quite want to finish that sentence for some reason, but thankfully Montserrat was overly relieved with his presence so she didn't question him at all.

"No, no! You're absolutely fine!" she exclaimed.

"We can go in whenever you're ready," Rafael made a gesture for the doors but watched her carefully for her reactions. Who knew, she might go in the opposite direction.

Montserrat took a deep breath and looked at the doors. "I gotta do it. My brother's the one in trouble. I can do this. Course I can. I can…"

When she started rambling on about the same thing, Rafael knew she was in the process of backing out. He couldn't blame her. But he did know that if she actually backed out and missed her brother's arraignment, she would never forgive herself.

"You need to go inside, Montserrat," he said softly. He met her nervous gaze and offered her an encouraging smile, and his hand.

She took his hand in a fast second. Then, with every bit of courage she owned, she led them into the arraignment room. It was just in time because Gael was being led out by one of the officers.

When the hell did Calhoun get in here!? Montserrat wondered, almost mad at herself for missing the woman. That's how absorbed she was in her own problems.

Rafael found them an open seat in the second row when Montserrat paused because her thoughts had gotten to her again. He didn't let her get away, though, and gently ushered her first.

"How does your client plead?" the judge was in the middle of asking when they finally sat down.

"Not guilty, your honor," Calhoun answered before Gael could even open his mouth. He was under strict orders not to talk at all. "The charges are seriously misplaced and when this is all over, Mr. Novak will be filing a lawsuit against 1PP and the DA's office."

"The charges of reckless endangerment and Manslaughter are hardly misplaced," Geraghty shot Calhoun an incredulous glare. But given the line of Calhoun's work, it was nothing more than a petty frown in her opinion.

"Save it for trial," the judge ordered the two women. "How are we on bail, Miss Geraghty?"

Geraghty straightened behind her spot. "Remand, your honor. The defendant has the means to flee what with his outstanding high paying job and double nationality with Slovakia."

"You have double nationality?" Rafael found himself asking Montserrat out of sheer curiosity.

Montserrat shrugged, indicating a 'yes'. "Dad's doing," she whispered. "If you have a parent from Slovakia you're eligible for dual citizenship. You want to go Slovakia some time?"

"Hm, how about we go to Cuba first?" He met her look with a smile and when she realized what they had said, she blushed and looked away.

This is not the time to do this, Montserrat, she berated herself. She forced her attention back on the arraignment and hoped to God Calhoun would come through for them this one time.

Calhoun scoffed at Geraghty's argument. "Oh please. My client is a single father of 2 girls who need him at home, not to mention he has Manhattan's own Homicide ADA Casey Novak and SVU Detective Montserrat Novak vouching for his presence. Believe me, he is not going anywhere."

"They are family," Geraghty shot Casey and Montserrat a specific look, almost accusatory. Montserrat wasn't in any condition to fight back, but Casey glared daggers back at the ADA. "And since they knew how the system works, I think remand is more than appropriate here."

Calhoun almost laughed in the woman's face. She rebutted like she normally would, only this time Montserrat was counting on her to make a damn good rebuttal that would allow her brother to come home today.

Without realizing it, Montserrat gripped Rafael's hand. She was over the top nervous and somewhere along the way, her hand had found his. She wasn't aware of it, but Rafael was. He felt the moment his hand was squeezed - which, honestly, showed she had tremendous strength - and so he did what he felt he should; what he wanted to. When she leaned on him (an attempt to listen better to Geraghty), he was just her rock, her support. He soothingly rubbed his fingers over her hand.

Sonny caught the two's closeness and couldn't help but feel a little proud that some sense had finally been knocked into them. Of course the feeling faltered when he noticed Damian's lingering look on pair. Oh right, it still pained Sonny having to keep that secret all to himself. It felt like a ticking time bomb.

~ 0 ~

"Do you have the money?" Calhoun stood in front of the group after arraignment. It was a win that remand had been discarded, however the bail money was now the issue considering it was a pretty high amount.

"No, but we'll make it work," Thomas looked at his daughter, both knowing they wouldn't have that type of amount between them.

"$50,000 is a pretty insane amount," Montserrat scowled, already mentally going through her back account to see how much she could put up.

"No it isn't," Calhoun gave her a tilted-head look. "You're just on the receiving end this time."

"Hey," Casey warned her not to even go down that road.

Calhoun raised her hands in defence. "I'm going to go find out when the court date but I suggest you don't keep him in there long. If anyone on the inside finds out he's related to an ADA and SVU detective, he's not going to be having fun."

"Maybe go for protective custody, then?" Montserrat's tone went flat, as did her face.

"What else do you think is on my to-do list?" Calhoun rolled her eyes and moved around the trio to leave.

"Are you sure she's going to help us?" Thomas was left asking.

"Don't worry Dad," Montserrat turned to her father with the best warm smile she could put on. "Calhoun is tough. She'll help us."

The trio rejoined the others near the elevator after Calhoun had left them.

"Hey, Calhoun seemed pretty sure of herself," Olivia said. "That's good."

"She's a shark," Rafael chimed in, not really sure if he was giving the woman a compliment or an insult. He wasn't used to having her on their side.

"Which means she'll do the job just fine," went Sonny.

"Now we just gotta focus on the bail money," Montserrat sighed. She dug her hands into her ginger curls, tugging on them. She might lose some hair in these next few weeks.

"Listen," Damian started, "I don't have a lot but I can put up 10 grand for the bail money."

"That's still a lot of money, Damian," Montserrat said. "I don't want you to use it all up on us. I'm sure Gael would agree."

Damien shook his head. "You're taking the money or we're going to argue over it." He gave her a smile that left no room for such arguments.

"Thanks," she hugged him.

"I can put up another 10," Casey said, breaking them apart. "I've not wasted money in a real good time considering I never have time to go out."

"I can put 15k," Thomas added. "Retirement savings. But I can get more, I'm sure. I just have to look more through my finances."

"That's $35,000," Montserrat drew in a deep breath then exhaled. "Maybe I can put up another 10. That'd just leave another 5 grand."

"We can't leave Gael in there for long," Damian said. "Why don't we get together and see if we can come up with the solution today?"

"Sounds good," Thomas agreed then looked at Montserrat.

"Go on, I'll catch up with you guys in a bit," she motioned them to get a head start.

"Thank you for coming," Thomas said to Olivia, Sonny and Rafael before leaving with Casey and Damien.

"He's right, thanks for coming," Montserrat sighed. "I'll report for work tomorrow. I promise."

"That's not necessary. You take your time out until this is solved," Olivia told her. She put a comforting hand on Montserrat's arm, offering one of her momma-bear smile that - admittedly - did make Montserrat feel a bit better. "We've got things at the precinct."

"Thanks," Montserrat said quietly. "Although honestly I don't know how long it'll be."

"Just focus on bail for now," Sonny advised. "Take it one bit at a time."

"I know but I just...I know that Casey, Dad, and Damian are putting up everything they have. Even though I'm going to put up what I have, it's not going to be enough. We're still going to be $5,000 short."

"You heard Carisi, take it one bit at a time," Rafael said. He did what Olivia had earlier and rested a hand on her arm, though Montserrat felt a lot more comfort with his touch than Olivia.

No offence to Olivia…

"Thanks for coming," Montserrat said, though there was a distinct possibility it had been only meant for Rafael this time round.

"Of course," he offered her a small smile, knowing nothing would be alleviating her pain right now. He had to come up with something to help her.

[raidbossmadi]

People Like Us Chapter 4

4.Leaving Eden

Previous Chapter: Here

When the twins had mentioned sending a crew to pick her up the following morning what Sloane hadn’t been expecting was that they’d send their own personal bodyguard along with what appeared to be two high ranking cultists, judging by the robes they wore obscuring their faces and making them seem that much more mysterious. 

“Sloane, I presume.” The taller of the two hooded figures asked after a good few minutes of Sloane staring at them from her doorway.

“Uh...yeah, yeah that’s me. Sorry, I guess I was expecting something a little less conspicuous?” She found herself having a hard time stringing together words. Mostly because she was rather stunned at just  how big the man in her yard was. She had seen the man known as Mouthpiece in the twins videos but only ever beside Tyreen or by himself and Tyreen by virtue of being short like Sloane made everyone look huge in comparison, but no he was just huge generally. 

“I think you will find with the twin gods most things are very conspicuous,child.” The hooded figure offered a hand to take one of her bags, and Sloane handed it over. 

“So I know the big guy over there is  Mouthpiece but who are you two?” Sloane asked picking up the last of her bags and letting Persephone hop onto her shoulder. 

“I am High Priestess Jaxon and my compatriot, High Priest Helios. We are the shepherds of the Twin Gods devoted and we are blessed to serve you as well, sister.”  

It was easy to forget the religious aspect of the Children of the Vault as an outsider especially given that Tyreen and Troy’s  presentation didn’t scream of holy or divine leanings, they dressed and acted like normal people. 

As they made it to the spaceport Sloane felt a bit of anxiousness settle into the pit of her stomach. She had never been to space, was getting in a spaceship scary? She hoped it was just like getting in a car that just happened to fly and could travel at lightspeed. 

“Come along, the God-Queen will not be pleased with us if we run behind schedule.” Helios said giving her a nudge as she had slowed down her pace. 

“Right, sorry. It’s just a lot to process.” She gave a nervous smile but made sure to keep up with her entourage as they approached the loading deck for the dropship. It was small and compact and at first she wasn’t entirely sure all four of them would fit in it. 

Sloane  filed in sitting down between the two priests before Mouthpiece ducked in and proved that yes they could in fact all fit. She pulled down the seat belt, secured Persphone in her lap, and dug her nails into the armrest of the chair as the door to the cabin clicked shut.

A holographic image of the ship above them flickered into existence in the center of the pod. Jaxon reached over and put in a series of inputs before the words ‘clear for reentry’ appeared over the ship and the pod engines began humming as they warmed up. 

“It’ll be over before you know it.” Sloane reassured herself quietly as the pod pitched upward and rumbled. She closed her eyes reigning in the desire to scream as the fear that they would burn up in the atmosphere hit her. After what felt like a long time the pod jostled to a stop the engines dying back down. 

The doors gave a pneumatic hiss as they opened to a red tinted room, and Sloane shook off the dazed feeling that overtook her as she rose then  followed the entourage  out of the pod. They had stepped out into a large engineering bay, a klaxon blaring as the red light flashed again and Sloane watched as a large mechanism picked up the dropship and slid it into a storage compartment beside many others. 

“Clearance please!” A woman in engineer’s coveralls declared as she approached the group. 

“For fucksake Lydia, who else is going to be dragging around Mouthpiece and the Twin God’s new favored.” Jaxon hissed yet nonetheless pulled an ID card from her robe. 

“Just doing my job Jaxon, I’ll send word to the God-Queen you’ve made it back, she should be in the Cathedral.” Lydia remarked.

The Priestess made a disapproving noise as they walked past. “Mouthpiece, take Sloane’s bags to the Twin God’s quarters. We will deliver her to the God-Queen.”  

Outside of the engineering bay the ship opened up to large spacious hallways that reminded Sloane more of a city street than a hall. Though she supposed the Calypso’s flagship was meant to be a floating town. There was signage that pointed to where food and living spaces were located as well as the ship's medical bay. She had worried that the ship would feel claustrophobic so she was glad that fear had been dispelled quickly, though it was apparent that the ship was  in a period of downtime as the halls were sparsely populated save for a few people that appeared to be lower ranking members of the twins clergy. 

They came to a large set of double doors spray painted with ‘Like, Follow, and Obey’ across the top along with the inverted vault symbol that was the CoV’s calling card. Jaxon and Helios pushed the doors open then gestured for Sloane to come in.  

“The God-Queen is expecting you.” 

Sloane walked into the chamber and heard the doors click shut behind her. The lights in the room were dim but she could make out rows of pews forming aisles that she stood in the center of, the main source of illumination was a spot light over a dais at the end of the room. Perched on the dais where two thrones, though for the moment only one was occupied. Tyreen has never looked more the part of God-Queen in the time that Sloane had been around her, her ice blue eyes trained on the other siren as Sloane made her way to the base of the dais. 

“Well look who made it.” Tyreen rose from her seat a smirk creeping up her face. “I hope you found the priest escort welcoming.” 

Sloane watched as Tyreen walked down the steps towards her, her gait still smooth and predatory.  “I did, and I’m pretty impressed with what I’ve seen of the ship so far too.” 

“Thanks, you should let Troy know. This ship is his baby, and I don’t think he gets enough credit for it.” Tyreen was standing in front of her now, ice blue eyes locked on hers.  “So, you’ve decided to join the Children of the Vault, to pledge yourself to Troy and I in return for freedom. Now there’s some rules that come with joining our family, I think you’ll find they’re all very fair. I am a just God after all.” 

Sloane swallowed nervously, though she knew Tyreen wasn’t about to hurt her; this was her stage, she was entirely in control of the situation. 

“Here’s the deal, we can’t have you appearing as a threat to our reign or anything like that. So the narrative Troy’s spinning is that you’re our Siren, a stray we took in out of the kindness of our hearts, you belong to us. We’ll say you’re blessing to tip the scales in our favor, after all one more Siren on my side means one less Siren for the Crimson Raiders to have access to. ”

“Ok, so what does belonging to you entail? Am I going to have to humiliate myself by walking around completely nude do I? Cos I am super not about doing that.” 

“What? No, you’ll get looked after by Troy and I,have all your needs attended to, just one tiiiiny little catch.” Tyreen reached into her pocket and pulled out a leather collar not unlike the one she was wearing right now and spun it idly on her finger. “You belong to us so I’m keeping you in arms reach. ” 

Oddly enough Tyreen seemed nervous as she tried to assure Sloane that there was nothing sketchy going on here. Though her assurances did make Sloane feel better about it all, after all who wouldn’t want two of the most powerful people in the universe to spoil them and not expect anything but loyalty in return. 

“ I’ll do what you and Troy want, be whatever you want me to be,I promise.” Sloane teased, sticking her tongue out at the last bit. 

“ Like you have a choice now anyway right?” Tyreen gave a small smirk before she reached around Sloane’s neck and affixed the collar around it. “Not too tight?”  

Sloane shook her head as she adjusted to the feel of it around her neck. Granted she had known that joining the Calypso’s was likely to come with some sort of price she just hadn’t expected anything like this. 

“Cool, now I think you’ll agree, it’s been a bit of a hectic day. Probably more so for you than myself, so why don’t we head up to my room and get some sleep?” Tyreen suggested, a small yawn punctuated the end of her sentence. 

“I’m sleeping with you? Like you aren’t worried I’ll try to kill you?” Sloane asked, a bit surprised by this, especially given how tight the twins security had been so far. 

“Yeah of course you’re sleeping with me, it’s how you socialize someone into feeling comfortable around you right? Besides honey, if you try anything I’ll just turn you into another statue for my collection.”  There was a loneliness that flashed in Tyreen’s eyes that made her words seem like an empty threat, she didn’t want to do that, not really. “Troy will want a word with you too, but he’s already turned in for the night and it’s best not to bother him.” 

Tyreen motioned for Sloane to follow and lead her behind the thrones where a door stood at the back of the dias leading to a stairway. At the top they came out to a more homely looking part of the ship and walked toward a hallway with a hand scanner at the door. 

“We’ll get your biometrics added to the system in the morning, I don’t expect you to go anywhere without one of us for a while but it saves me the trouble.” Tyreen said as the  double doors slid open revealing a small wing of the ship. There were four doors, two on each side of the hallway, each emblazoned with a symbol in the center of the door. The two on the left had a game controller and flower, while the right had Troy’s dual skulls and snake emblem and the last had a skull wearing a crown. Tyreen approached this door and again placed her hand on the scanner. 

“C’mon in.” 

Sloane walked into the room, which  lit up as Tyreen walked in it was a fairly neat room with a small living and kitchenette in the main area, there was a desk  in one corner of the room that seemed to be Tyreen’s brainstorming station as papers were all over it and the wall behind it.  Next to the desk was a door that was currently ajar and Sloane could see that it was the bedroom, she followed Tyreen in and discovered that her bags were waiting for her in a neat stack at the foot of a bed that was easily big enough to fit three people. Tyreen walked into the connected bathroom pajamas in hand, Sloane used the opportunity to dig through her bags for her own trading places with the God-Queen and then getting settled in the bed.  

She was a little nervous given that she had never shared a bed in any context before now.  But as she climbed under the covers the warmth of the bed was enough to quiet any reservations she might have plus the bed was so large that Tyreen might as well not even be in it. It wasn’t long before Tyreen’s slow even breathing filled the Sloane needed as her eyes began to flutter shut marking the close of the first day of her new life. 

[ofwizardsandmen]

The walk of victory

Idol AU (Rebelde AU)

Characters: Tara Lee (OC), Johnny Suh, Mark Yang (changed his last name for plot purposes)

Word count : 1,2k

In which Mark and Johnny end up tangled in a love triangle with Tara Lee, the country’s ‘Little sister’ and 1/6 of the Co-ed pop sensation IMPULSE! Mostly angst and very bad decisions.

(Part of a larger story and multiple AUs, but can be read on its own)

“There’s a temporary exhibition dedicated to expressionism,” Johnny says touching the back of his head “Maybe we can find some time this week to go watch it” he adds, wording the invitation carefully.

Or that’s what Tara thinks anyhow.  She’s standing before the full-length golden mirror that, by now, every fan of NCT has learned to recognize as a trademark of Johnny’s room. Her reflection stares at her judgmentally.

The series of events leading to the “scandalous” outcome of Tara spending the night at NCT’s dorm is still up to debate. Tara has been vainly trying to come up with one, but there’s really no explanation for what happened last night and what has been consistently happening in the last couple of weeks. She’s pretty sure that if they were to get caught, the tabloids and gossip-hungry websites that report her every move would reduce it to a petty feud between her and Mark. But even in her worst state of mind, Tara knows that whatever she and Johnny have been up to is beyond Mark and her desire to get back at him, to see him wither in pain and jealousy after betraying her trust.

For one thing, there is no pain or jealousy for Mark to feel at all. Tara has allowed her pettiness to cloud her judgment and has been acting like a foolish teenager who sneaks with Johnny whenever the opportunity arises and doesn't even bother to hide it anymore. And yet, as of today, Mark is still blissfully unaware of the affair she’s having with his bandmate and supposedly best friend. For another, there’s nothing suggesting he’ll find about it anytime soon. Considering how Johnny was completely sure Mark wouldn’t sleep at the dorm the previous night, it is probably for the best.

“He’s not been coming home lately” Tara can recall Johnny explaining with a smirk as he stripped her clothes off her body, his voice a bit too casual for her liking. Then, again, the whole situation was already far too out of control and messed up for her to start caring about trivialities like Johnny implying Mark had already moved on from her and was frequenting someone else.

“Tara?” Johnny’s voice pulls Tara back to reality. Upon blinking twice, she realizes the guy has moved to stand behind her, his proximity makes her shift uncomfortably.

“Uh…er… yes, sure.” Tara nods offhandedly. She knows Johnny won’t take no for an answer.

He never does.

That’s probably how she ended up fucking him in the backseat of his car for the first time. Or how they ended up sneaking into his group’s shared apartment last night.

__

Tara can’t pinpoint with exactitude the moment her life turned upside down, all she knows is that it all started a doomed night of December when she bumped into Mark Yang at an award show afterparty and it’s only gone downhill from there. Tara’s life currently consists of one mistake followed by an even bigger mistake; regret —occasionally overshadowed by the thrill Johnny Suh and his model-like looks make her feel—, and unexpected events.

Finding Mark standing outside Johnny’s room when she’s finally gathered enough courage to make the walk of shame is one of them.

“Tara, don’t forget your-“ Johnny’s playful voice trails off the moment he sticks his head out of the door and notices his bandmate staring at Tara as though he's seen a ghost.

In return, she watches with thinly-veiled satisfaction the way Mark’s face contorts when Johnny fails to hide her lacy bra behind his back. It’s almost comical until she detects a flash of hurt in Mark’s eyes and he clenches his jaw, allowing his hand to ball into a fist before letting an empty laugh that doesn’t quite achieve its purpose because he looks as though he’s going to burst into tears at any moment. That or attempt murdering Johnny, Tara is not too sure.

“So now you're fucking my bandmates?” Mark inquires, eyes glistening as though they contained the entire cosmos inside. Though, in reality, it is not a question, it's a statement. Or rather an accusation.  

Tara finds it completely hypocritical how Mark dares to act offended after publicly ruining her reputation with a song he composed and everybody was quick to assume it had been “inspired” by the relationship —or whatever it was they had— they had tried to hide for months. Tara has been trying to forget about it for weeks and she’s supposedly made up her mind around the fact Mark didn’t deserve her sadness, but seeing him again has her inevitably feeling like she is going to crawl out of her skin.It’s silly how she allows herself to feel so miserable about a boy who wasted no time and found her a replacement in less than a week, but despite any evidence indicating the opposite, Tara has never been good at dealing with her emotions. People have always praised her cool demeanor and strong-willed personality, her entirety and wisdom, but in fact, all she’s done over the years is shoving her feelings deep inside of her, in a place where they didn’t represent a menace to that perfectly and minutely planned life of hers.

Unfortunately, everything is gone by now, and though Tara has even planned what she’d tell Mark when and if he happened to find out about her and Johnny, no amount of planning prepared her to deal with the heaviness of the situation.

Mark, whose eyes were always gentle despite his stupidity and lack of genuine love for Tara, stands motionless, boring imaginary holes into Johnny’s head and looking as though he’d snap at them at the lesser of the provocations.

Even the confident Tara is afraid of speaking because her senses have diverted and she’s currently focused on the smell of sex lingering in the air. She wonders if Mark notices too because he scrunches up his nose and looks at her disgusted, as though he can’t tolerate her presence.  

So in the end, Johnny is the one to speak next.

“This is not about you, Mark-“ He finally says after a silence that stretches enough for Tara to make a double-take and notice how Mark still wears the black t-shirt she bought him for his birthday.

“No, of course not. This is about my backstabbing friend sleeping with the girl I used to-“

Whatever Mark had meant to say next is interrupted by Tara. She’s not too sure if she’s simply trying to protect herself from potentially finding out Mark regarded her as a simple fuck buddy —or less than that—, but she ignores those thoughts, pushing them to the back of her head on behalf of keeping her sanity.

“We’re not doing this,” She says simply, her expression impossible to read. “I am sure the three of us have better things to do.” She adds the last part thinking about the meeting she’s scheduled to have in less than an hour and the fact Johnny is already late for a studio recording session.

Mark opens his mouth to protest, but Tara is quick to turn on her heel, tiptoeing enough to reach Johnny and pull him down for a brief kiss that leaves him looking equally confused as he is satisfied.

“I’ll see you later?” She asks with a sweet smile, as though her ex-boyfriend —or whatever Mark was— wasn’t looking. Johnny has the good sense of nodding his head although he probably knows Tara will turn off her phone and won’t contact him for the next couple of days.

She is predictable like that.

Effectively, Tara is not expecting to see Johnny again any time soon.

But Mark doesn’t need to know that’, Tara thinks to herself as she walks out of NCT’s dorm with a self-sufficient smirk.

This is universally known as a “walk of shame”, but for some reason, Tara has brainwashed herself into believing she’s making her “walk of victory”.

Later the same day, that’s the title Tara gives to the song she manages to complete in record time with the help of Sungjae and that —according to the rest of IMPULSE!—, has the potential to become the next breakup anthem flying to the top of the music charts.

[iffeelscouldkill]

Adjusting [Part 3: Campbell]

A/N: It liiiives! Here is a long overdue Chapter 3. As compensation for the wait, this chapter is longer than the other two chapters put together :D

I originally drafted this chapter some time ago, but then once I started serialising the fic on AO3, decided that I wanted to rework the middle part. I wound up redrafting most of it over the past few months, and it was a bit of a slog at times, but I'm much, much happier with the final result. A big big thank you once again goes to my wonderfully encouraging beta @dragonsthough101, and to @whelvenwings for writing with me and listening to my Fic Woe and helping me fix That One Section that I was struggling with!

A heads up that this chapter contains some quite heavy conversations about wartime under an oppressive regime, loss and regret. There are no graphic descriptions of violence, just a lot of fairly grim introspection. It probably goes without saying, but I'm not a military veteran myself, so I based all of this on the podcast canon and my own imagination.

Please take care of yourselves, and I hope you all enjoy 💜

---

Summary: It turns out that there isn’t a blueprint for quitting your job, turning your back on the organisation that you’d built your life around, committing treason and abandoning your friends and family to go travel across the galaxy with a band of wanted criminals. Fortunately, RJ now knows some people who have been there.

Or: Five times that RJ McCabe shares a late-night drink with someone on the Iris 2.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Read on AO3

---

About three weeks on from the Iris’ flight from New Jupiter, Sana calls a crew meeting. It isn’t their first by any means, but until now, crew meetings have either been about the division of chores or about pooling information to convey to the resistance movement. This one is different.

“We’re making another stop-off,” she tells the crew once they’re all assembled, Arkady looking half-asleep and disgruntled at the earliness of the hour. “I’ve arranged to meet a… long-time contact of ours. I know that we need to be careful about who we trust outside of the crew on this ship and confirmed members of the anti-IGR resistance, but… he’s a friend. An old friend.”

RJ raises their hand. “Is it Ignatius Campbell?” they ask, feeling like they’re on a quiz show.

Arkady revives slightly and snorts. “Got it in one, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” RJ shoots back automatically. This is old, well-worn banter between them at this point.

Sana blushes slightly. “Right. I forgot that of course… you and Park know exactly who Campbell is.” She gives them a sidelong look, and RJ suspects that she’s remembering her fractious exchange with Campbell after Elion, and thinking about exactly what they would have heard.

“If it’s any consolation, we’ve been trying to forget about the recordings, too,” Park offers, slightly abashed, as he always is when this subject comes up.

RJ finds it awkward, too, but doesn’t see any point in pretending that they weren’t at one point on very different sides. Or that listening to the recordings from the Rumor wasn’t literally their job. But Park is right – they have been doing their best to forget about those long days and nights spent cooped up in their tiny office, replaying audio over and over. Know thy enemy had practically been RJ’s motto back in those days, but the Rumor crew aren’t their enemies any more. And RJ wants to move on from the person they were back then.

“I’ve spoken to Campbell a couple of times since… Well, since Elion,” Sana continues. “Trying to smooth things over since we-”

“Accused him of backstabbing us?” Arkady volunteers drily.

“To be fair, we really didn’t have any other good theories about what was going on,” Brian puts in. “None of us would have ever jumped to ‘an invisible robot nanoswarm’ as the source of our leak.”

Sana nods. “I know, and Campbell understands that, too. That’s why he’s willing to meet with us, and help us out – with supplies, and with information about the situation on Telemachus as well as some of the other Regime planets.”

“What about payment?” Violet asks. “We’re pretty light on funds at the moment, and we don’t have any cargo to trade either.”

“Campbell has agreed to effectively give us the goods on credit, with the understanding that we’ll pay at a later date,” Sana replies. “We’re also trading a little information in exchange for what he knows. Nothing top-secret, just a bit about the Regime’s movements, to help him keep two steps ahead.”

“And did you ‘barter’ with him to get him to agree to that deal?” Arkady asks, raising her eyebrows in a significant way.

Sana reddens a little, but says with dignity, “I don’t know what you’re implying. But yes, we did haggle for a bit.”

“Nice to hear that you two are back on ‘bartering’ terms,” says Arkady with a smirk.

Krejjh, looking between Arkady and Sana, grins as if Ferin has come early.

Ignoring this, Sana continues, “It’s obviously too dangerous for us to land on any of the IGR planets, so I’ve arranged to meet Campbell on Halton Station, in the Neutral Zone.”

Brian instantly perks up. “Dude! We’re going to Neuzo? Wait, isn’t Halton Station-”

“Where Thasia and Emily Craddock grew up,” Krejjh finishes eagerly.

“Yeah. To be honest, I picked it half because I knew the name, but it happens to be in a particularly convenient location for us, too,” says Sana. “It’s also not that populated, so there’s less chance of us attracting unwanted attention.”

“Does this mean I’ll be able to go outside?” Krejjh asks, practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, for the gentle caress of the wind! The touch of the ground beneath my feet!”

“I don’t see why not,” Sana says with a smile. “Just try to keep things, uh… low-key?”

Arkady snorts eloquently.

Later on, RJ is on joint kitchen cleaning duty with Violet, who is chatting aimlessly about the rendezvous with Campbell.

“…it’s just going to be Sana, Krejjh and Arkady going out to meet Campbell on Halton Station,” she says. “It’s still not safe for Brian to set foot on Neuzo, and having a huge group would definitely attract unwanted attention. So, I guess we won’t get a chance to meet Campbell this time, unless he comes back to the ship.”

“Is that likely?” asks RJ.

“If things go well between Sana and Campbell, I guess,” Violet says with a small smile. “At least, that’s what Arkady thinks.”

“So, are Sana and Campbell… a couple?” RJ clarifies. Violet laughs a little, moving a dishrag in slow circles over the countertop.

“Not that I know of? My impression from Arkady is that they’ve always been close, but never actually, uh… been romantically involved,” says Violet. “Then, after Elion… well. We didn’t really know who we could trust, and… Campbell was one of the only people who knew about our destination and had our new IDs. Or at least, so we thought.”

“Mmm,” RJ responds, which seems safer than ‘Sorry for being part of the evil government eavesdropping operation that made you paranoid and destroyed your friendships’.

“But now it seems they’re patching things up, so maybe…” Violet smiles brightly. “It would be great if they could make it work.”

“That’s true,” says RJ with as much enthusiasm as they can muster. Romance has never held much of an appeal for RJ – it’s nice for other people, but RJ realised some years ago that they just don’t feel the thing that people have devoted endless poems and novels and movies to, and trying to get invested in other people’s romances feels similarly awkward. But RJ likes Sana, and she deserves to be happy.

Violet, who is sensitive to that sort of thing, seems to pick up on RJ’s train of thought. “Sorry, I realise we might seem a bit… romance-obsessed on this ship sometimes,” she says with an embarrassed smile. “If it gets to be too much… feel free to tell us to knock it off any time, really.”

RJ thinks about working under the IGR, and the way that no-one ever felt safe being themselves. They’ve already started to take this new freedom for granted – but that doesn’t mean they’ve forgotten the way things used to be.

“It’s fine,” they say.

 ---

This time, it’s not unsettling dreams or racing thoughts that are keeping RJ awake. It’s just energy. It’s midnight, but they feel as tense and jittery as though they’ve just downed four mugs of that overbrewed sludge the IGR used to serve employees in the breakroom.

A lot happened during the day. A huge amount of planning went into the rendezvous with Campbell on Halton Station, and even though RJ wasn’t part of the group who went out to meet him, they were involved in every other part of the endeavour.

Halton Station might be in the Neutral Zone, but they’d already established that the IGR was willing to cross huge lines and even violate the Treaty in order to get what it wanted, and the crew of the Iris is wanted on every IGR planet. It’s impossible to be too careful. Park and RJ had advised Sana to the best of their knowledge on steps that the IGR might take to try and survey the area, on the resources that they might try to use.

Meanwhile, Brian and Krejjh – both over the moon at being back on Neuzo, where they first met – had taken it in turns to tell stories about Ryedell Station, where Brian once worked as a bartender alongside his friend Alvy Connors.

Inside the Republic, the Neutral Zone was referenced only sparingly, and always characterised as a den of vice and iniquity. RJ had hardly ever thought about it except to be glad that they’ve never had the misfortune to set foot on any of its stations. But hearing stories about a place where humans and Dwarnians co-existed alongside each other, talking, trading, bartering… It’s made RJ realise just how narrow their world was until recently. And it’s sobering.

Sure, they’ve been watching Dwarnian soap operas, which deal with a completely alien (literally) species and set of cultures – but those are overblown and feel removed from RJ’s day-to-day reality. This doesn't.

So, RJ processes by pottering around the kitchen, making a late-night cup of tea. The light in the kitchen is kind of busted and it only emits a very dim glow – Sana has been swearing that she’ll tackle it once they’ve got the supplies from Campbell, but RJ finds it soothing, particularly at this hour.

It does make them jump, however, when the door suddenly slides open to admit a tall, dark shape.

“Apologies,” says the man, in a rough voice accented with a slight drawl. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Ignatius Campbell,” says RJ in realisation. His voice, though RJ has only ever heard it over comms (and recorded comms at that), is pretty distinctive. Also, process of elimination dictates that there’s only one person this could be.

“The very same,” says Campbell, inclining his head forward. The door slides shut behind him. “And you must be RJ McCabe? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

RJ would like to say something witty like ‘The one and only’, but doesn’t really think they could pull it off. Instead, after a few dumb moments of deliberation, they manage, “You can call me RJ.”

Okay, so maybe they’re more tired than they realised.

Campbell raises his eyebrows a little. “Well, then, you can call me Ignatius.”

RJ doesn’t think so. Even Sana still calls him ‘Campbell’ – well, at least as far as RJ knows. Does his presence on the ship mean that the rendezvous has “gone well” like Violet and Arkady hoped?

The water comes to a boil, and RJ busies themself with pouring it out. “Would you, uh, like some tea?” they ask, mostly out of politeness – Campbell doesn’t really look like the tea type.

“Actually, I was planning on drinking something a bit stronger, if you don’t mind of course,” Campbell says, pulling out a battered metal flask from the pocket of his heavy brown coat. “It’s not moonshine,” he adds, at RJ’s slightly sceptical expression. “Just whiskey. You’re welcome to some, if you want.”

The opening notes of ‘Whiskey in the Jar’ immediately start up in RJ’s head, and they inwardly curse Violet, who has a habit of humming it when she’s nervous. And when she’s happy. And when she’s been spending time with Arkady.

“I’ll pass, but thanks,” says RJ, taking their tea and sitting down with it at the table. Campbell manages to locate a mug and pours his whiskey into it, but stays standing, drinking it slowly and staring into the middle distance. It puts RJ a little on edge, but they force themself to relax and remember that Campbell isn’t a threat.

It’s harder to resist the impulse to run through the collective intelligence that the Intergalactic Republic had on the man known as Ignatius Campbell. Known contact and long-time associate of the crew of the Rumor; expert forger; suspected aliases include Alexander Cole and Jonathan Johnson. Based in Telemachus, but with an extensive network of affiliates and possible connections across multiple galaxies.

As if picking up on their thoughts, Campbell suddenly asks, “You used to work for the IGR, right?”

RJ tenses. “Emphasis on ‘used to’,” they reply.

Campbell waves a hand. “Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to accuse you of anything. God knows everyone on this ship has stuff in their past they’d rather not go back to – me included,” he says, a little darkly. “No, I was just wondering what kind of intel they might have on me up there. Any good rumours?”

“Most of it was inconclusive,” RJ tells him, but thinks back anyway. It already feels unnatural trying to access the headspace and knowledge that they had while working for the IGR, after going to such pains to put it behind them. “W- They suspected you might have links to the notorious pirate Kim Hoff and her Bald-Cat gang, potentially as a supplier of intel or documentation, but nothing was proven.”

Campbell gives a low chuckle of amusement. “Believe it or not, I’m not the one on this ship with links to Hoff,” he says. “Though I can’t say we’ve never crossed paths.”

In response to RJ’s look of confusion, he elaborates: “She was Brian Jeeter’s thesis advisor.”

“You’re kidding,” says RJ in disbelief.

Campbell lays a hand on his heart. “I swear – you can ask him about it. For all that he might seem mild-mannered and harmless, Brian Jeeter has some interesting connections.”

“I’ve heard about his run-ins with the Dwarnian mafia,” says RJ, partly to show that they aren’t completely uninformed.

“Yeah, that’s another good example,” says Campbell. “There’s a reason why I’ve kept doing business with the Rumor crew all these years: they have some damn good stories to tell.”

RJ snorts in acknowledgement. If it weren’t for the fact that they’ve listened to some of the Rumor crew’s insane exploits (and been present for one or two of them) they wouldn’t have believed half of the stories that they’ve heard since they came aboard the Iris.

Neither of them says anything for a while, and RJ contemplates taking their tea back to their room so that they can carry on thinking. But the prospect is dull and a little claustrophobic, and part of them wants to take this opportunity to find out more about this person who is obviously so important to their crewmates.

“So…” says RJ, and Campbell’s gaze flicks over to them from where he’d been contemplating the cupboards. “What’s got you up so late, drinking whiskey in the kitchen with a total stranger?”

One corner of Campbell’s mouth quirks up. “You’re not a total stranger,” he points out. RJ just raises an eyebrow, and Campbell relents.

“Not sure, really – Sana and I were talking, but then she wanted to crash, and I wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet. Got a bit too much going round in my head.”

RJ nods; in other words, a very similar reason to their own. “So I take it you’re staying the night?”

This immediately makes Campbell flustered, and RJ can’t make out his face very well but they imagine that he’s probably gone red. “I – I mean I am, but I promise that there’s nothing improper- It’s just for the one night. And we’re bunking in separate rooms,” he says in a rush.

RJ snorts and manages to keep from rolling their eyes – just about. “Calm down. I wasn’t trying to imply anything,” they tell Campbell. “I only asked because I’m on breakfast duty tomorrow morning, so I wanted to know how many people I’d be cooking for.”

“Oh.”

“Also, ‘improper’? What millennium is this, again?”

Campbell coughs, and says with the air of someone trying to pull the conversation back on track, “So – what about you? What has you up in the kitchen past midnight?”

RJ sips their tea, stalling for time as they try to decide how much to say about what has been keeping them awake. They settle on,

“I guess I’m… learning a lot about the universe that I never had the chance to before. Working for the… for the IGR, you’re told that only you have access to the real facts about everything – Dwarnians, the war, the upper limits of science and space exploration – and that anyone who tells you differently is lying or trying to confuse you. I prided myself,” they stress, bitterly, “on the thoroughness of my research. On having all the information. Now I realise just how little I really knew.”

Campbell nods, slowly. “All repressive governments control their people’s access to information,” he says. “The better to make sure that no-one gets any ideas of their own.”

“Yeah, I know,” says RJ, a little wearily. “I’m not under any illusions about what the IGR really is. Not anymore.”

“But you were,” Campbell points out. “Sure, maybe there were things you could’ve questioned and didn’t. There are also folks up at the top of the whole operation who have access to all the information and make a very different choice with it. At the end of the day, you still thought for yourself when it counted. You got out.”

RJ eyes Campbell warily. “I’m not fishing for reassurance here,” they tell him. “You don’t have to make me feel better.”

Campbell holds up his hands in apology. “I know,” he says. “It just sounded to me like maybe you were being a little harsh on yourself.”

RJ shakes their head and searches for the right words. “When I joined up with the Rumor crew on New Jupiter, it wasn’t some heroic stand,” they say eventually, quietly. “It was a strategic decision I made to survive. If I’d stayed where I was, I would have been killed on sight.”

“The crew of this ship knows a thing or two about survival,” Campbell tells them. “They’re not all on some grand moral crusade.”

RJ knows that Arkady worked as a guard for the IGR, that Violet used to be a government scientist, that Krejjh fought in the war on the Dwarnian side. But on nights like these, the gap between their experiences still feels vast.

The others, they all have this bond, a camaraderie forged from venturing out into the deepest parts of space, from facing near-death experiences and defying the Regime side by side. RJ might have tagged along at the end, but they don’t have that history. They haven’t earned that bond, yet.

RJ realises that Campbell is still watching them – considering, almost. Their first instinct is to break eye contact and look away, but instead they meet his gaze, raising their chin slightly. RJ thinks they see Campbell’s mouth twitch into a small smile.

“You know that I served in the military,” he says suddenly. It isn’t a question.

“Yes,” RJ replies cautiously.

“Do you want to know why I left?”

“Uh…”

RJ is well aware that Campbell fought in the war. They vividly recall the argument with Sana where Campbell angrily spoke about losing ninety percent of his first unit. RJ remembers listening to that exchange in their cramped office with Park, and looking over at him, wanting to ask for more information. But Park’s brow had been furrowed, his expression dark as he stared down at the wood of the desk, and the question died on RJ’s lips.

Park had fought in the war, too.

RJ doesn’t feel like they have a right to Campbell’s story any more than Park’s, but apparently, he's offering. “If you’re… okay with telling me,” they say uncertainly, pressing their mug between their palms until it’s a little painful. “I’m… sure it was nothing good.”

Campbell gives a short nod, his expression grim.

“I enlisted in the military in 2178, two years before the coup,” he says. “My first unit, they were… a really good group of people. Some of the best I’ve known. When the coup took place in 2180, we were excited. The old government had left the military drastically under-funded and over-stretched. The Regime promised better funding, better resources, more troops – of course, they accomplished that via the Mandate, but they made that seem like a great thing. A stable career path; an opportunity for everyone who was able to “serve the human race”. As they put it.”

RJ nods slowly. “I know. They’re pretty big on teaching that as part of the history of the Republic,” they say. “‘How the Intergalactic Republic transformed our military’.”

“Yeah, well, I experienced it first-hand. And for about a year, everything was as promised. But then my unit got word that we were being redeployed to the Dwarnian stronghold of Nreech-shlegga.”

RJ frowns. “As in… the Battle of Nreech-shlegga?”

“The very same,” Campbell confirmed. “But this was years before that battle. We were told that it was a small outpost, largely unmanned – an opportunity to score an early victory over the Dwarnians and make an incursion into their territory.”

RJ feels a sick sinking feeling, and unconsciously grips the edge of the table with one hand. “What happened?” they almost whisper, although they know the answer.

“On the basis of the briefing we were given, we stormed the stronghold,” Campbell says, and RJ suspects that he might not really have heard their question, lost in the memory. He’s not looking at them anymore, staring down at his mug, but he doesn’t drink from it. “Of course, Nreech-slegga was the exact opposite of what we'd been led to believe – it was an extremely well-defended military stronghold. My entire unit, barring myself and six others, was wiped out in less than an hour.”

Campbell is silent. RJ breathes out quietly, trying not to interrupt his thoughts by drawing attention to themself. Their throat is dry, but they’ve drunk all of their tea and daren’t move to make some more.

Several long minutes later, Campbell shakes himself a little, seeming to come back into the present. “Sorry,” he apologises gruffly, taking a swig of whiskey.

“Don’t apologise,” RJ says quickly, and then clamps their mouth shut, in case they sounded overly familiar. But Campbell nods, and they think they see his lips quirk upward slightly.

“What did you do… after?” RJ ventures, after another long moment of silence. They hate to pry, but they’re still not clear on why Campbell decided to tell them this in the first place. Maybe he’s not sure anymore either.

Campbell nods again, once, as if agreeing to something inside his head. He meets RJ’s eyes again. “Would you believe me if I told you that I defected from the military?”

“Of course,” RJ says immediately. “After what they did to your unit? Your superiors must have known the reality of the situation, but they withheld crucial intel. It cost the lives of dozens of good soldiers.”

“I notice you haven’t considered for a moment that the IGR might have had a good reason for giving those orders,” Campbell points out. He sounds amused.

“I—” RJ falters. “I mean. How could they have?”

People died needlessly, they want to say. But they know that while they were on the IGR’s payroll, they came across all kinds of evidence of similar incidents and found ways to rationalise them, to explain away the devastating loss of human life. Like the planet where the inhabitants were left to starve without aid after their food supply was consumed by ants – because of “improper paperwork” and “budgetary concerns”. Or the fate of the original Iris, in which an entire crew had been murdered in order to silence one man.

Why had it taken RJ so long to see the Regime for what it really was?

Because it’s easy to make excuses, to explain things away, when it’s not your life on the line, RJ’s brain supplies. When you’re not the one they’re coming for.

“If you see any of the Rumor crew, or Agents McCabe or Park, shoot to kill.”

Until you are.

“You’re right,” Campbell says, and RJ stares at him for a few seconds, having lost the thread of their conversation. Their head feels heavy and over-full, their mind whirling. “My superiors had perfect intel on the situation in Nreech-slegga and knew the full extent of its defences, but they lied to us because they wanted to test the Dwarnians’ response times on their own territory. We were just cannon fodder to them.”

The phrase rings a bell in RJ’s mind – they remember him using the same words to Sana in ‘Report 6: Parallel’. They nod mutely.

“But in the wake of The Nreech-Slegga Disaster, as it became known – though only among the troops, as official reports of the incident were largely suppressed – they told us that they’d been fed false intel by double agents working for the Dwarnian Federation. They even used it as an excuse to purge a few members of the rank and file who’d fallen out of favour.

“I could tell something was off about it all – if the Dwarnian counter-intelligence efforts were so effective, why tip their hand so obviously? Why waste them on eliminating a single ground unit? But at the time, I couldn’t envision a life for myself outside of the military. And I was afraid to follow that train of logic any further, for fear of where it might lead me. So I stayed enlisted – for three more years.”

“Three… years?” RJ echoes in shock. “But…”

“Why would I stay?” Campbell finishes for them. “It takes a lot of guts to choose a different path to the one you’re on, to leave behind everything you know. I didn’t have them, then.” He stares off into the middle distance, mug held loosely in one hand. “A lot of people who fought in the war didn’t really believe in the Regime’s cause. They had their own reasons, and I told myself I had mine.”

Campbell raises his mug to drink from it again, and then – evidently finding it empty – picks up his flask and drinks directly from there instead. “But I spent a hell of a lot of time regretting those three years.” His voice is a low, bitter growl, almost too low to hear.

A more profound silence descends this time, and RJ isn’t sure how to break it. Their instinctive response to hearing how Campbell lost his first unit had been to assume that he would have left the military and refused to serve under the regime that caused the deaths of his comrades – just as many people would question why RJ had stayed and continued to work for the IGR after Park was taken away. 

Like Campbell said, at the time, they thought they had their reasons. It's only in hindsight that those reasons become a lot harder to justify.

It takes a lot of guts to choose a different path to the one you're on, Campbell had said. RJ can't find it in them yet to think of their decision to turn against the IGR as something that took "guts". 

But no matter how adrift they've been feeling since then, they also haven't regretted it for a moment.

“Apologies,” says Campbell abruptly, and RJ looks up from toying with their mug, surprised. “I probably shouldn’t have dropped all of this on you at once. It’s just been… on my mind, what with the renewed crackdowns from the Regime, and skirmishes breaking out everywhere…”

RJ’s stomach turns over. They knew that there were protests on Telemachus, and a couple of the other large planets as well, the ones that were harder to control. But they hadn’t realised it had broken out into all-out fighting.

They realise that Campbell is still looking at them, and try to force their mind back to the subject at hand. “No, it’s fine – it actually helped. Uh, it’s nice to hear…” They trail off, not sure if it would be presumptuous to say, ‘a story similar to mine’. RJ isn’t a war veteran. It’s not the same thing at all. “That is, I uh, really appreciate you… trusting me with this.” There.

Campbell gives them a slight smile, and then ventures, “I’m not sure how well it’ll go with the aftertaste of whiskey, but… can I take you up on that tea?”

“Oh! Sure!” RJ jumps to their feet so quickly they almost upset their chair. They do their best to cover it up by holding the box of tea out to Campbell, who raises his eyebrows. “What kind would you like?”

“Uh… Why don’t you choose,” Campbell suggests.

“Oh, if you’re sure…” RJ looks down at the tea, wondering what kind would be appropriate to give a former-soldier-turned-forger after a heavy conversation about serving under an oppressive regime. They decide to go for vanilla and honey.

As RJ is busy boiling the water again, making another cup for themself at the same time, they realise that Campbell never actually told them how he came to leave the military. They wonder if it would be pushing it to ask him, or whether it would be best to leave the topic alone.

They procrastinate by pouring out the water, then finding a spoon to stir the tea with. “You can leave it in for as long as you want to – three minutes is usually a good amount of time,” they tell him, handing over the mug and the spoon.

“Thanks,” says Campbell appreciatively. “It smells good.”

“You’re welcome.” RJ goes back to pour out their second cup of jasmine green tea. Campbell gives a little chuckle to himself, and RJ looks over, curious.

“Oh, it’s just – I realised that after all that, I never finished my story,” Campbell explains. “But uh, I’m sure you’re sick of hearing-”

“Actually, I was wondering-” RJ begins, and then stops awkwardly. “Uh. That is. I’d like to hear the last part?”

“All right then,” says Campbell. His manner is a little more relaxed than before, and RJ senses that this part of the story is easier for Campbell to tell. 

“I served in the military for three more years,” he says, “after the Nreech-Slegga Disaster. I rose up the ranks a little bit – but not that much. I wasn’t great at taking my superiors’ orders without question, especially when they were irrational, stupid orders. A lot of soldiers who started out below me on the pecking order quickly got promoted ahead. But that was fine – I never wanted to be in command. I knew there was all sorts of corruption in the upper ranks of the force – bribery, dirty deals, a comfortable life lived on military funds.

“But the breaking point really came when I was put into a situation that reminded me vividly of the Nreech-Slegga Disaster – a campaign where we were given almost no information about the situation on the ground, and were ordered to go in, guns blazing, and mount an attack. I refused to lead my men in blind – I demanded more information from the officers in command. And when they ordered me to go ahead with the offensive regardless… I left. I couldn’t watch it happen again.”

“Where did you go?” RJ asks.

“I disappeared,” Campbell says simply. “I had an old friend I’d never completely severed ties with who had links to the criminal underworld. Not, uh, Sana,” he adds quickly. “We met later. I went underground with a new identity, and set about methodically erasing every trace of my former life. Officially, I’m listed as Killed in Action during the offensive that I refused to participate in. I honed my skills as a forger at the same time.”

“Did you have, uh…” RJ realises partway through asking the question that it might be an uncomfortable subject – well, another uncomfortable subject. “…family? You don’t have to answer that,” they add awkwardly, but Campbell is nodding.

“My parents had passed away, but I had a brother I’m close to. I wasn’t able to make contact for several years. But now I… see him, occasionally. And his kids, my nephews.” He says the last part softly.

“That must be nice,” RJ says without thinking, and then flushes when Campbell looks at them quizzically. “Um, that is…”

At that moment, the door slides open and a voice says, “Hey, I woke up and I wasn’t sure where you’d – oh! RJ, sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

Sana stands framed in the doorway, wearing loose sleeping clothes, her hair twisted into a side braid. Because she’s Sana, rather than being embarrassed or discomfited, she immediately shifts into Concern Mode. “Is everything all right?” She looks between the two of them, obviously curious as to how they came to be talking in the kitchen.

“Hey, Sana. Everything’s fine, we were… just having tea,” RJ says.

“I think mine’s vanilla and honey,” Campbell adds, lifting his mug. Sana seems tickled by this, grinning broadly.

“All right, well I’ll leave you both to it, if you’d prefer – I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No, it’s okay–” RJ says, at the same time as Campbell begins, “Actually, I’d be happy to come back to–”

They both stop, and RJ presses their lips together in amusement and then stands. “I’m gonna head back to my room. It was… really nice talking to you, Mr. Campbell.”

Campbell gives an exasperated huff at being called ‘Mister’, which makes RJ smile. “Likewise,” he says.

“Goodnight, then, RJ,” says Sana, standing to one side so that RJ can get past her. “Don’t be afraid to come and knock if you still can’t sleep.”

RJ nods, though they have no intention of doing anything of the sort. “I will. Oh, and Campbell?”

“Yes?”

“Do you like eggs?”

This throws Campbell for a loop. “Do I… like eggs?”

“For breakfast tomorrow. Sana said there would be some eggs in the supplies we were getting, so I figured I’d make eggs.”

Campbell laughs a little with surprise. “Sure. I’ll eat pretty much anything.”

“Great.” RJ looks back at Campbell. “See you at breakfast.”

What they really mean is:

Thank you.

[courage-a-word-of-justice]

Magia Record 4 | Uchitama 3 - 5 | Eizouken 5 | Iruma-kun 17 - 18 | BnHA 76 - 79 | ID: Invaded 5 - 7

Magia Record 4

There’s a fish behind Iroha. Also, I was confused about the ketchup cake thing Jenn mentiond in one of her posts until I saw it here.(On a related note, ketchup cake seems to really exist…but only in Canada.)

Ah! Tsuruno. I’ve heard of her from reading around about this mobage.

The coding of the episode went funny again…

I feel like despite this being everything Madoka was, this seems to have lost some of the charm somehow. I’ve been reading that others are having similar experiences, though. Update: I think I know why now…although there are magical girl events fuelling the entire thing, the show is currently more bent on being a CGDCT. That’s why I’m not so happy with it…I dunno about others, though.

I suspected Séance Shrine was Mizuna Shrine…I mean, it was right behind Iroha and co.

Who was that blonde girl…?

I thought I just saw face-stealing aliens swoop in (i.e. someone didn’t bother drawing in the girls’ faces). I thought that was just a Bones thing exclusive to BSD.

“Olibe oil” (sic). Also, there are creepy blue (green?) figures walking the aisles…

I notice Iroha needed an extra bounce to get over the gate.

What’s that orange marking on the girls’ faces…? Update: Reading the wiki reveals it’s the Witch’s Kiss, or something similar to it.

Uchitama 3

Well, it says “chome” but gets translated to “street”…which is a bit weird. A chome is a city district, which functions much like a street but isn’t the same.

I just realised the title card has a dog’s face on it. Maybe next time it’ll be a cat’s face…

Oh my gosh, it’s a Yu-Gi-Oh duel! Teenager-ness…(?) What is that (LOL)?! *squints at screen* Oh, chuunibyou. That makes sense.

They even materialised the (Gon’s) chair! (LOL)

At least this matchup isn’t Bull vs. Momo…thank goodness(!)

I seriously love how much skin they make Bull show…(LOL…?)

Well, if the race to the top is exciting then the race to the bottom should be humiliating, no? That’s how these things work.

LOL, just seeing a badass dude that’s meant to represent a wolf howling like one is hilarious. (But seriously, are any of these neighbourhood dogs a Bad Enough Dude, to paraphrase an old game meme?)

Don’t Naruto run, Pochi! It’s dangerous!

Ahhhhhhh, so that’s why people call Pochi “Shiro” and feed him tofu…

The video got encoded funny again…

Uchitama 4

This is like Wakasa all over again…

The “My Name is Gon” title is a reference to “I Am a Cat” (Wahagai wa Neko de Aru). It actually doesn’t have the word for “name” in there, which is a bit weird…Update: It’s about the day-to-day introspection and life of a cat and the wagahai suggests the cat thinks rather highly of himself, so I’d assume the former (applied to a dog of course), if not both of those things to be part of this.

The fact that Gon doesn’t move his mouth while telling us weird things (such as how Bull’s sweater reminds him of an old lady in Osaka) is hilarious. It’s almost like a play with Gon as narrator.

See? That titlecard has a different dog’s face now! (I believe it’s Kuro’s, actually.)

This series is actually really informative about cats and dogs!

The Detective Conan parody cat is pretty interesting in regards to how the series wants to play with the human/animal dichotomy.

Now the titlecard has a cat’s face.

This song is so energetic! The banners are pretty funny too – I mean, “trying to get a ripped body” is impossible for a dog, right?

Yyyyyyyyup, Ume is singing this song (Sanchome no Hoshi* or The Star of 3rd District*)! I’m being spoilt!

Eizouken 5

Iron Giant…I thought the name sounded familiar. Turns out it’s a Brad Bird-directed movie.

This episode is very Scott...LOL.

I like how they showed the back of the guy to correspond with the back of the robot.

Iruma 17

Gap = sukima, as you might know from a post I made re: Mairimashita! Iruma-kun puns.

“Yes, boss!” in English.

Why do people being questioned  at a koban always have katsudhum? (Hataraku Maousama reference)

Ooh, this long-haired demon from the Game or New Magic battler is hot!!!

That's the 1st time Acchan and Bakemi appear...

I'd assume the ga in Gabuko means gakkou (school).

Now it's ki su ma...(instead of sukima)

Iruma 18

Aw, Kiriwo's so cute...

...and he's now a sadist. (Good job, me...I don't like sadists much.)

The cyclops girl's name is Dosanko, huh?

Hanabi are "fire flowers" (translating somewhat literally), which is why they "bloom" in the translation.

Update: Oh, I accidentally skipped ep. 17. I was wondering how Sabro got to hold up Comecome's stall…

BnHA 76

I’m not sure how the subbers got “Go entropy! Plus Chaos!”, although it might have something to do with Saikou da! (which I made out from listening to the audio).

Okay, now you can hear them say “Plus Chaos”.

Note Overhaul’s eyecatch background is purple, which contrasts Deku’s green. By the way, the eyecatch says that Overhaul belongs to the Shie Hassaikai and not the League…the guy’s always been picky about not being associated with the League.

The one time I turn the volume off, I don’t need it (LOL).

Dame da is closer to “It’s useless” or “You’re useless” than “Naughty girl”, subbers.

The coronavirus has taught me that masks make people seem less human, especially those with weird mouths like Overhaul’s plague doctor/bird one.

BnHA 77

In one of the Discord servers where Mudamaid appears, I decided to take Chronostasis. Why? He isn’t that bad-looking when he hasn’t got his mask on, to be real with you.

Froppy uses “senpai”, not Tamaki’s hero name.

I believe Tamaki calls Tsuyu “Kero-chan”, hence “Miss Ribbit”.

I wanna cry…I know Nighteye won’t see All Might again until All Might himself dies…(and this is because I’ve read the manga – thanks Viz and Shonen Jump for doing that!)

Shigaraki makes me beg the question…where do those hands of his come from??? Update: Ewwwwwwwww, those hands come from individuals affected by Tomura’s Quirk! (I think that’s a spoiler though…)

I almost got to the point of crying. I mean, I knew it would happen, but seeing it animated…makes it worse, y’know??? (Also, I accidentally might’ve stuck my finger in my eye when I was trying to wipe away tears, so either way, I teared up.)

BnHA 78

Huh? This OP is awfully cheerful after Nighteye’s death…I think it’s called Star Maker? Update: Star Marker by Kana Boon.

Well, you do realise I don’t know about anything after this point…all over again. So your surprise will be mine too.

LOL , it’s a Titan! (Apparently – according to the wiki pages I read – Gigantomachia is based on the Titans of lore, so…that’s true in more than one sense when you take into account Attack on Titan.)

The birbs are so cute!

That was just a few solid minutes of recap. Not as bad as Detective Conan where they frontend it, but still bad.

Hmm? I thought I saw black hair on Kurogiri…?

“He’s a walking disaster.” – That’s what I’d say about Bakugou, LOL.

Shouto “Daddy Issues” Todoroki taking the stage again…not that I mind, but…isn’t this Midoriya’s story?

I think I saw a Funko Pop All Might in the ED…?

You can see someone with a red wing Quirk. Based on what I’ve read around, that guy is Hawks.

Deku’s shirt at the end says “sheets”, not “shirt” (it’s missing a small ya).

BnHA 79

“…and I like udon better!” - *facepalm* That’s not how you make friends, Yoarashi.

Gang Orca’s like the Gordon Ramsay of heroes…with much less swearing.

*laughs behind hands as kids spill out the door* Welp, this is going to be real good.

This blonde kid is basically Monoma ver. 2!!! I hate him already!!!

Oh…that’s surprisingly strategic, Bakugou…*shows image of kid being dangled by a rope* Uh…or maybe not.

Who’s this guy with the bolo tie, anyway…?

Uchitama 5

I seriously thought this cat was Nora…(Sakura)

Does “big sister” refer to Lilly or another cat…?

Oh, I was wondering why Sakura didn’t have a cat tail…turns out she’s a pig. (Huh. It reminds me of a kinder version of the Africa Salaryman mixer joke.)

I like how open the series is in regards to interspecies love. Then again,…bestiality is an absolute no-no in my books, so maybe not.

Is it just me, or is there a slight bruise around Nora’s left eye…?

It’s like a Boueibu reunion! Shirai and Ume at the baths! Yay~!

There’s something absolutely silly about seeing anime boys hide in cupboards like cats. It puts a stupid smile on my face, like Eizouken does.

“I told you to get in the bath already!” – Gaddammit, Koma!

How do Gon’s glasses not fog up in the bath? (MST3K mantra required)

Oh, Nora does have a bruise around his eye! What’s it from, though?

Way to upsell Koma’s services, Kuro. (partially sarcastic…?)

“Can I say we’re having a doggone good time?” – Remind me to check what that sounds like in Japanese later. Update: Kuro says something that sounds lik izoizo in the line beforehand and then matches it in this line. In order to match the puns, there’s a pun in the English translation too.

ID: Invaded 5

Matsuoka’s glasses thing reminds me of Kanamori (Eizouken)…

“hole experience” – Is that a pun…?

Never ask a woman her age.

Hmm…”maidenly innocence”…

Why do some people believe “never mind” is one word???

I just noticed there’s a differently coloured bar on the title card…maybe that’s how far into the episode you should be. Also, is this well a pun on “falling for you”?

I noticed the blood had a weird texture to it. Also, I noticed the woman had heterochromia bfore it was pointed out she’s not real.

I have a theory. See, John(nie) Walker is an alcohol (sake) brand, right? This is Sakaido (as opposed to Anaido, who’s the Perforator and ana = hole). It’s the same character, so (I suspect) Sakaido’s crime has to do with alcohol…

Hmm…this ain’t gonna pass the Bechdel test after all…

Oh! Post-credits segment! Keep watching.

ID: Invaded 6

“Matsuoka was injured” – Er, he still has the knife in him…?

Ohhhhhh…this has gotta be Hondomachi!

I predict Hondomachi and Sakaido are going to go head-to-head someday. Update: Or those two vs. Johnnie Walker.

There was a cut-off footprint…

Isn’t it possible for a person to kill someone without knowing their name?

*cries* Sakaido! I’ve never seen you so emotional before…!

ID: Invaded 7

So Narihisago did look like Sakaido at one point…when his daughter was murdered.

The thing that reads cognition particles has “Back ground. Rad. Lev.” on the bottom of its screen.

I don’t have the sound on right now, so I dunno what Matsuoka was reacting to specifically…(aside from the guy owning up to whatever was done.)

Interestingly, Katsuyama has the character for “win” in his name. However, this is the only link I’ve found between the serial killers and their names.

There’s a character which appears in both the word for “martial arts” and one of the (dead) professional fighters – Takehiko Fujita. It means stuff like “war” and “military power”.

Oh! There’s a bar on the titlecard and this one is up to 900 of 1200…I wonder what that means? Is that an indication of time, perhaps? Also in the bottom left, “CAM 025”.

Miyo Hijiriido?! Oh my gosh! This is new, indeed!

Okay, so the characters for Miyo look like this: 聖井戸 御代 The first character in “Miyo” is the same one that denotes “go” in goryoushin (formal way to denote “parents”) and similar words in keigo. The characters which aren’t “well” (water well) are the character for “saint/holy” and “age” (as in the period of time, alternatively “generation”), aside from the one I’ve already discussed. Therefore, I’d suggest Miyo is actually “the great detective [who ushers in a new] age” or “the great detective [of the current] age”. Update: Apparently Miyo means “age of a ruler”, as in the period of their reign (specifically referring to the emperor if it needs to be). I’ve heard there’s specific words in the Japanese language used only to refer to the imperial family…this is probably one of them. That specific name combo (as “odai”) is also a very polite way to refer to spare change, although that doesn’t seem very useful to know.

What’s that thing on Tamotsu’s wrist…? (A watch? Wouldn’t that be illegal in a prison like this?)

Interestingly, all other killers wear white. Narihisago is the only one in black (or brown…or whatever colour that is).

What would Miyo need a key for? The key to the mystery, or a physical key?

I don’t think you can see Narihisago’s face in any of the pics he has of Muku or his wife.

Ooh…Sakaido’s pretty ripped. (Me likey…not that I would like a killer…)

Why is Sakaido…or I should say Narihisago…dead in his own imagination, huh?

Hmm…Miyo wears a black singlet or sleeveless top of some sort under that cape...poncho…Holmes cosplay thing. She still has a gun in her detective form, too.

Notably, no detective wears a skirt in this world…*sigh* So much for Nancy Drew and Miss Marple…

Muku has smiley faces on her hair decs.

Does that mean you’ve met the real Muku…? (I think this is Momoki speaking about Muku.) Update: It might be Habutae, actually. I never really got a grasp on the names of the peanut gallery.

Hondomachi’s never seen the cockpit in real life, right?

Well-ception! (It’s a bit of a joke that when there’s something in something, I call it [X]ception as a homage to Inception.)

Table flip! That meme hasn’t been around for a while, come to think of it…

I find it interesting that they point to the circles of the roof when talking about pi. As you know, the circle and pi are related.

Hmm? I don’t remember seing the quote “Let us try to make this world a better place” in this episode…

[amassingeffect]

Ficlet Prompt Friday - Cave of Wonders - fReyder

@crown-laurel: I’d love to read about another date night with Sara and Reyes. After High Noon and locking in his romance!

While I haven’t romanced Reyes yet, having watched like eight vids for any Reyes romance, I feel absolutely cheated that he was not a possible squadmate. So, two birds, one stone and all that. LOL

Waring: post-High Noon, spoilers for Liam Kosta loyalty mission, heavy petting

Kadara was a place Sara had little problem coming back too. After the showdown that resulted in Sloane’s death, Reyes was busy solidifying the Collective as the ruling power in Kadara Port, and Sara was off planet not being further implicated. Besides, who knew what had happened elsewhere in the week she spent planet side. She had her hands full with the Nexus, Eos, Roekaar and co-ordinating strikes with Evfra and the Resistance on Voeld.

That wasn’t to say the messages between her and Reyes weren’t happening. A few a day, at the very least. Simple, innocuous looking messages that helped immensely to imagine him actually saying. Some with that playful tone, others with a smile and a wink. Neither of them were willing to say anything that could be intercepted.

If she was extremely transparent sending them back to Kadara two weeks later, she really didn’t care. That she had a message from Reyes simple saying “Tartarus” and a time, well… she didn’t think anyone would say anything right to her face. Well, anyone but Drack.

So here she was, strolling into Reyes’ private room. Sara would never tire of how his eyes lit up when he saw her, the smile that came to his face as he stood to greet her.

“Fashionably late.” Reyes murmured before he kissed her.

Sara could definitely see how he got the nickname ‘Shena’. His kisses always left a flutter in stomach and she loved those little moans he made. He was always slick with words and she couldn’t help but wonder what else his mouth was good at. How they hadn’t slept together yet, she hadn’t figured out. She had no inclination to rush him into something though. There was plenty of time yet.

“Don’t want you thinking I’m too eager.” Sara quirked her mouth into a small smile. “But I am glad to see you again.”

“It’s been too long. I was thinking of a late night drive?”

“Should I even ask? I mean a drive at,” she glanced at her omni-tool. “Just after one on Kadara?”

“If anyone tries to shoot at us, we can handle it. Besides, I do think it’s worth it.”

There was no way Sara could resist the silent question asked with that raised brow. “We can take the Nomad in thirty. Liam is offloading it now. It’s always the first thing he does here.”

“Ah, time for a drink then.”

In all honesty, the time passed quicker than Sara would have like. It felt like she just settled down beside Reyes, her very diluted tavum in hand when he was getting them going. He’d had to answer two messages, but Sara was honestly surprised it wasn’t more. Some days, she couldn’t even get through breakfast without receiving ten messages.

When they got to the Nomad and she saw something neatly secured into the backseat, she looked at him. “Reyes, what are you up to?”

“Nothing. I just figured you probably had eaten much. So I arranged a snack.”

“Uh huh,” Sara wished her stomach hadn’t picked that moment to growl like eiroch. “That looks more like a full meal.”

“Snack, meal,” Reyes shrugged with a coy smile. “If we’re out late enough, we can have breakfast and watch the sunrise.”

Sara got in and buckled up, sure he could see her blush as he did the same. “Where to Reyes?”

“Kurinth’s Valley.”

“Damn, you really wanted a late night drive, didn’t you?” Sara hit the start button, letting engine go through its start up revs before she got going. “I mean, there are easier ways to get me in a smaller space you know.”

“If I was going to do that, I like to think I could do better than your vehicle.”

“Ever the gentleman.” Sara paused, sliding Reyes a look. “Hasn’t it occurred to you that maybe I don’t want you to be a gentleman, all the time?”

Now it was Reyes’ turn to blush, she could just make it out in the low interior light. But Reyes had a small grin and his voice was low as he easily replied,

“That can be arranged.”

For once in her life, Sara stuck to the roads using the low beams to thread their way through the mountainous terrain. Better that than breaking both their necks with an unexpected cliff side. The drive up took them nearly an hour, but the entire time they talked. Reyes had endless questions about her work on Prothean digs and what she thought of the Remnant technology scattered through Heleus. And Reyes was far more forthcoming about himself that she expected. He had come to Andromeda to be someone, to be more than some orphan from the great teeming masses from the Santiago megatropolis of his childhood. His disillusionment with the Initiative was palpable, and having dealt extensively with Tann and Addision she really couldn’t fault him for that.

Sara had meant it when she said he could have his secrets. It was the big things that mattered more in her opinion. So when he got a little too quiet after some questions, all Sara did was slow down a bit and take his hand to give it a gentle squeeze. Reyes always gave her a chagrined smile and soft squeeze back. For all they wanted to be together, they were still adjusting to each other in small ways.  

Getting into Kurinth’s Valley is what made her fall a bit quiet. It was silly, but she half expected another Architect to come swarming out of the ground and attack. A soft squeeze to her hand made her look over, startled a bit to find Reyes giving her a gentle smile.

“We’ll go out armed. There’s some more weapons stashed under the other backseat.”

Sara huffed but smiled, feeling relief. “Always full of surprises.”

“Good ones.”

If anything, Sara was quickly developing a weakness for that smile and a wink from those hazel eyes. She parked the Nomad out of easy sight in a little niche of Remnant stacks. A midnight picnic in the middle of nowhere with Reyes Vidal. Good thing she hadn’t told Cora, the woman would have blown something. A fuse, a gasket… her head. All Liam had done was nod and wave her off saying to give him a ring if things went south. She wasn’t too sure what Liam would come to the rescue in, but the man was resourceful.

The night air felt a bit cooler as she got out but she was honestly too busy staring at the sky overhead. A hand settling on her waist made her look over to see Reyes, the light from his omni-tool set to low. His smile was a bit shy as he gave a half shrug.

“Does Sara Ryder approve?”

Her stomach did that fluttery thing again as she leaned in to kiss him. “Definitely,” she murmured, thumb stroking along his jaw. “Set a whole mood and everything.”

“I can’t deny that’s what I was going for. This…”

For once Reyes had no words, quietly taking in the sight before him. Sara slipped an arm around his hips, moving in a bit closer. It was a sky thick with stars, more than she had ever seen on any planet back in the Milky Way. Just a wide expanse of stars with a backdrop of the golden galaxy and all edged by the shadowy Kadara mountains.

“It’s better with the company.” Sara stated quietly.

Reyes’ smile widened but his reply was preempted by her growling stomach. He laughed as he held up the small hamper. “Shall we get you fed?”

Suddenly, that sounded like the best damn thing Sara had ever heard. It didn’t take long to set the blanket out and dig into the hamper. It looked like a lot of light foods, fruit, vegetables, secure little drink packs and packets of meat. It was even better when Reyes fed her little tidbits, his gaze fixing on her lips when she kissed and nibbled on his fingertips.

“You really don’t want me to be a gentleman.”

The dark tone to his voice sent a thrill through her, making her shift with anticipation. She picked up his hand, tracing over the lines on his palm before she settled it on her crotch, pressing up against it hard. She could hear Reyes’ sharp inhale as she leaned in.

“I think,” she whispered in his ear, sucking gently on the lobe. “That you should really show me how you got the nickname Shena.”

The low groan he gave sent heat racing through her but it was when he kissed her that she felt like she was on fire. Suddenly, she hated this damned light armour and she couldn’t pressed against his hand hard enough. His mouth was definitely good enough, tongue teasing hers  before he broke off to kiss down her neck. The light scrape of his teeth had her breathing harder, rolling her hips against his hand.

Goddamn, she was really hating her armour now. And his, since all she could really do was slide a hand down between them and palm at his clothed crotch. Oh, and this blanket, especially when she had that nice, big bed back on the Tempest. That was when her omni-tool flashed and SAM’s voice broke the silence.

“Pathfinder, I feel it prudent to warn you that there is an anomalous signal closing in on your and Mr Vidal’s location. They will arrive in less than five minutes.”

Sara was breathing hard, her brain almost automatically snapping back into Pathfinder mode. Almost because she just had to drink in the sight of Reyes in the low light, hair dishevelled with lips all kiss-bitten and his hazel eyes seemed to glow.

“Can you identify it, SAM?” her own voice was hoarse and Sara wondered what she looked like to him.

“One moment. Processing.” Was SAM quick reply.

“Hm, I wondered why I didn’t hear from SAM sooner,” Reyes got up to sit on his haunches.  “Sara?”

Oh God, the way he said her name with his voice like that. Whoever interrupted this was dead. “I engaged privacy mode before I came to visit you.”

“Oh,” Reyes did sound intrigued. “SAM, who is paying us a visit?”

“Their ID signal marks them as Outcast. A small troop, estimated at seven along with a Hydra.”

“Well they’re in for the worst game of hide and seek ever.” Sara got to her feet now, unclipping her assault rifle. “SAM, patch in thermal-vision to an ocular overlay.”

There was a moment of silence from SAM. “Acknowledged Pathfinder. They are two minutes out. I suggest you take cover.”

“If they have reinforcements, ensure Liam Kosta gets the message that it’s gone south, with our last approximate co-ordinates.” Sara looked to where Reyes was waiting with his own gun. “Stay on my six.”

“I have no problem with that.” Reyes gave a smile, cocking his gun.

“You say that now…” Sara let her fist crackle with biotics.

“So the view from your six will be better. Shall we go say hello?”

Sara decided to start it off with a bang. A few bright red thermal shapes appeared a bit ahead of her and she Charged into them, provoking gunfire for all of three seconds. The shots bounced off her shields and she slammed down a Nova, sending bodies flying. She turned catching the dim glow of an omni-tool and realized Reyes left it on purposefully. With her biotics fading, she melted back into the darkness and the remaining shots were pinning Reyes down as the whine of the Hydra powering up shots came.

So much for that plan.

She moved like a Wraith in the darkness, the flash of her biotics the only telltale sign of where she was. She flickered them to distract the Hydra and the other assailants, their gunfire letting Reyes pick them off one by one. Though there was the blue crackle of an Overload and then the bright orange bloom of a Flamethrower. Sara felt confident they’d be done mopping up soon when SAM intoned,

“Message sent to Liam Kosta,” a few moments and then, “He expects his ETA to be thirty minutes.”

“They had reinforcements!” Sara dashed over to where Reyes was still in cover. “Kosta won’t be here for another thirty.”

Reyes swore. “How many reinforcements, SAM?”

“Two more troops.”

“And how long until they show up?”

The silence from SAM was too long and then, “One minute.”

Now Reyes was swearing even more now. Sara was trying to figure out just how to get past the Hydra when a missile slammed into their cover. There was an ominous groan from the ground and Sara felt it flex beneath her feet. She barely managed to grab Reyes before the ground fell out beneath them. Everything moved, half blurred from falling dirt. But the ground was clear enough and she held on to Reyes tighter, firing her jetpack intermittently to slow their descent. They were still gonna land hard and Sara brought her barrier up and turned so she took the brunt of the fall.

Still hurt like hell though and she’d be lucky if her jetpack was working properly after that hit. Reyes scrambled off her, gun up as he offered her a hand. Her back was protesting a bit as she took it and got up, eyes scanning around.

“Not how I wanted to wind up underneath you.” She spotted her rifle, and dashed for it.

Reyes chuckled even as he looked up at the hole they fell through. “You don’t think there’s a chance they’ll stay up there.”

“Doubt it.” As if just to drive the point home, the sound of jetpacks firing up came. “Let’s go! SAM, map the place as we go so we don’t get lost.”

Now it really was a game of cat and mouse, in a cave full of what seemed like glowing green crystals. At least these guys had a shred of intelligence and didn’t resort to grenades. It gave them an advantage that they pressed. And with SAM guiding them, they managed to flank and ambush clumps of the Outcasts before darting back into the frankly confusing maze of crystals. Reyes would strip their shields to let them take the full brunt of her biotics. Or she’d run in and distract them before a quick Blink got her out of the path of Reyes’ Flamethrower. It was only when SAM declared that there was no one else left that Sara lowered her gun.

“Okay, next time, I pick the place.” Sara came to crouch down beside Reyes. “I’m fairly sure I can find some spot on Eos where things won’t try to kill us.”

“All that sand gets in places.” Reyes glanced at her before turning his attention back to the crystal.

“Voeld?”

“I prefer to not freeze.”

“… I’m sure as hell not gonna suggest the Nexus.”

That got Reyes to laugh before he held up the crystal. “Do you know what this is?”

“Looks familiar,” Sara took it from him, surprised to feel a faint buzz from it. It felt like… “Meditation crystals?”

“Raw, unprocessed meditation crystals. This is a cave of wonders.” Reyes was already looking around.

“I think you mean the cave of credits,” Sara looked around. “Sixty, forty.”

Reyes countered with, “Fifty, fifty.”

“No, pretty sure you mean sixty, forty. Between my jetpack and biotics…” she trailed off with a smile.

“You drive a hard bargain,” Reyes put the crystal back down. “SAM, how long until Mr, Kosta shows up?”

“Twenty minutes Mr. Vidal.”

Sara laughed at the displeased expression on Reyes’ face. “There’s always later. But we do have right now, Shena.”

“Later might sooner than you realise. After all, you don’t precisely want me to be a gentleman.”

Sara’s laugh dissolved into a moan as Reyes kissed her. If Liam showed up late, she really wouldn’t mind it.

Liam had thought he had fucked up with the whole mess with Verand and rescuing her from Calot. So when Ryder had taken it in stride, he’d breathed a sigh of relief and swore he’d stop doing stupid shit. It was also why he didn’t question too closely when Ryder said she was heading out for the night and to keep an ear out in case she needed back up. Liam had nodded and said to give a ring if she needed it. With everything Ryder did, she definitely deserved a night off. She probably wouldn’t really get it, but she did deserve it. Sure enough, the message from SAM had come. He’d grabbed Drack and both of them had managed to squeeze into the small exploration pod and race all the damn way out to Kurinth’s Valley. Freakin’ Kurinth’s Valley. What Ryder was doing out here so late, Liam wasn’t too sure he wanted an explanation.

It was easy enough to spot where Ryder and Vidal had been ambushed. The scorch marks were barely visible in the predawn light. It was the bodies and empty Hydra that made it far more obvious. And oh yeah, the giant freaking hole in the ground that seemed to be glowing a pale green.

“I never want to ride in that tin can with you again.” Drack got out, half his bones creaking in protest. “Looks like the kid had fun.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Let’s see where she is.”

Liam had his assault rifle out and Drack already had his Ruzad in hand. They swept through the area, finding the parked Nomad and what looked like the scattered and trampled remains of a picnic. A midnight picnic, really? He edged closer to the hole, before he called down.

“Ryder?”

There was a muffled curse and then, “You couldn’t have been another ten minutes?!”

The echo of Reyes’ laugh confirmed that Liam had definitely interrupted something. He stood there, awkwardly wondering just what he should say. Not that he had to because Drack solved that problem.

“Want some time to finish your rutting?”

“Drack!” Liam seriously wondered about the old krogan sometimes.

Sara’s sigh may have echoed but damn if the frustration wasn’t clear as a bell. “Just get us out of here, please.”

“Can do. Hang on a tic.” Liam called before he headed back to the pod, Drack right behind him.

“Gonna winch ‘em out?”

“Yeah, easier and we don’t have to worry about falling in ourselves. And really you can’t go asking things like that.”

Drack just shrugged. “Fight like that, two against all those people. I’d be looking for a rut too.”

“More than I ever wanted to know about you.” Liam stated. “Man, she can’t even go out date without it ending in a firefight.”

“I know right. Imagine if she decides to marry the guy,” Drack laughed. “Firefight of the century.”

Liam shook his head, fighting down a laugh as he grabbed the winch cord and started unspooling some length. “Definitely do not let either of them hear you say that. Pretty sure you don’t have enough parts left to survive that.”

[softservebunni]

A little bored so heres a lil crush survey I wanted to do!

So you like a guy, huh?:

Id say I do. Yeah. 🤍

What is this lucky guy's name? :

Lucky? I wouldn’t say that. But I’ll just say his initials are N.S

Does he live near you?:

Super close! He’s like a literal bus ride away.

When did you first like him?:

I think it was when I was at a sleep over at my friends house when he came in and like sat near me for a while. It kinda just occurred to me I’m not shy cos he’s somewhat new to me, I was shy cos I thought he was dummy cute.

Where did you first see him?:

I remember first seeing him when I was over at my same friends house, he like opened the second door and greeted them, and the moment I caught eyes with him I was like “Bfkwhfwldhejdwjrb” internally. I still remember the EXACT way he did it too AHHHHH idk why i do but I do!

How long have you liked him?:

Maybe like, a year at this rate

Do you talk about him a lot to your friends?:

Only certain ones. It kills me sometimes cos AAAAA I really like this kid.

Is he single?:

Y a

Do your friends tease you about you liking him?:

Sometimes it’s more in a playful way less actually teasing. It’s cos if they are people I talk to about him they know I gush.

Do you find yourself constantly looking at him?:

When I first started knowing him, Id try to steal some glances because i was too shy to actually hold eye contact. Now? Yeah. I definitely do- but I’m usually always shy still cos he’s just too cute and hfwkdhwodbet dumb bunni brain go “hurhreurheur. Cute boi.”

Does he look at you constantly?:

He can hold eye contact way better than I can. But I mean I dont know? I dont really watch or look for that?

How close have you been near each other?:

How close? Mans literally been inside me. Unless we somehow both fuse into one another I don’t think we can physically get any closer

What's his best feature in his appearence?

Uh, YES.

Seriously, I think he’s just perfect. Like literally my type. It’s a bit mental. Like I love that his hairs long, I fucking LOVE that his eyes are this pretty hazel brown and in certain lighting they’re basically amber gold colored. I love when he smiles cos it’s just so cute literally heart melting, over all like I could go on forever but everything about this boi is just 🤌🏻💋

C’est magnifique

Why do you like him?:

Oooh a loaded question. His personality at first is what piqued me. I was intrigued by him whenever we’d all hang out. He’s very lively for someone who’s also super chill. I also love the way he speaks sometimes. Like his little ways of story telling. Getting to know him better however? I love how he thinks about the world around us, I like his views on things even if I don’t fully understand them. I like his little excited outbursts whenever we pass by a cool car he likes and he’ll tell me random facts, I love that he has so many random facts in general. I love that he can be silly, in depth, lost in thought, and realistic with who he is a person. For someone so young hes very self aware and it’s incredibly astonishing sometimes. However on the more superficial side of things? I love that we’re both stoners who like dancing and I mean- boy literally turns my entirety to jello when ever we’re in a bit of an intimate situation.

Do you think he could be 'The One'?:

Uhhh, I dunno? That I wouldnt even be able to tell with people i was with for ages

Does he know you exist?:

Boy I sure hope so for someone who’s fucked me I mean… I’d be concerned

Does he remember your name?:

Again, I sure hope so for someone who’s fucked me AND used my name all up in my ears I’d be confused if he didnt

On a scale of 1 - 10 how attractive is he?:

Solid 10.

What's his ethnicity?:

Boi’s born Russian and Kazakh. Which high key I think is super cool.

Does he have any siblings?:

He’s got a few, I’ve never really asked how many.

Have you ever asked him out?:

I feel like we both kinda just make time for one another. But I kinda ask when ever I’m wanting to proper go out with him.

Have you ever tried talking to him?:

A better question would be “do you both ever shut the fuck up?” We talk and talk and talk and talk.

Is he popular with the ladies?:

Wouldn’t know. Not askin’ others opinions on someone I like.

Does he know you like him?

I sure hope he does.

How crazy are you for him?:

I mean, I absolutely adore him.

Have you two ever hugged?:

I’ve- literally has sex with this man so yes I have.

Do you get jelaous when he's with another girl?:

I wouldn’t say that.

How does he dress?:

He’s usually super casual. But it works for him.

Do you know when his birthday is?:

July 18th. He’s a cancer!

Is he older than you?:

I’m older than him by six years 😭

[crookswithbooks]

Two Times They Mentioned Something Involving McDonalds Incorporated and One Time They Acted On It - Part One

Notes: So I’m finally getting back to this, after forever long procrastinating. Just a remainder that I don’t own McDonalds or anything involving it. This is a fictional story for my and your entertainment! :)

Summary: Bill and the gang discuss different businnes strategies and Steve proposes a career switch to Bill. 

1.

Bill strolled next to Janet and Fred on their way home. He was gesturing in an animated fashion and Janet stared in rapt attention. Fred had already checked out of the conversation and was now watching a couple of sparrow fight, or possibly have sex, mid-air.

“—and now they’re saying we should change it!” Bill was saying and Janet gave an appropriate little gasp of shock.

Fred turned away from the sparrows who were now tussling over a worm. “Change what?”

“Our slogan,” Janet explained and Bill nodded.

“Oh. They’re changing that?”

“Yeah, which is completely ridiculous! Our current one is just fine.” The turned a street corner, dodging as a couple of ids ran by, laughing and chasing each other. Bill fished his phone out of his back pocket, scrolling through large blocks of text. “Here, see?” He shoved the phone in Fred’s face. Fred stopped, glancing down at the lengthy email. At the bottom there were a couple of suggestions as to what their new slogan should be.

“McDonalds—eating unhealthy and lying to yourself,” Fred recited, his eyes scanning the list. “These are all so weird. ‘Want food? Got money. Boy do we have a deal for you!’; “You shall not disobey us or we will come and kill your family and everyone you love, bow down to us, love us, serve us—’ yeah, that one’s just a long hypnotizing message, never mind.” He frowned. “How come this last one just says ‘GLITTER!!!’ in all caps with three exclamation marks?”

“Oh that’s Steve’s suggestion,” Bill explained, taking back his phone. “Anyway, can you see the problem? No one will come to our store if it says…” He looked down. “ ‘We don’t eat children—trust us!’ Like, what even is that?”

Janet twined her fingers together in front of her. “Do you think they’ll asl us for suggestions?”

Bill shrugged. “Maybe.”

“What would you guys all suggest our new slogan be?” Fred asked.

“Hmm…” Janet tilted her head, considering. “How about this: ‘I’m terrified and lovin’ it’. It’s short, sweet, and not that different from our original one. What do you think?”

“It’s certainly.. original,” Fred supplied.

“What he means to say is that it sucks. Intrinsically,” Bill said, rolling his eyes.

“Bill!”

“What? It’s the truth! What does the terrified part even stand for?”

“Probably our poor, poor hamburger quality,” Fred murmured. He frowned, staring down at the ground. “Why not stick with something simple? Like McDonalds.”

“Well, yeah,” Bill agreed, giving him an odd look. “But we’re not deciding the name, we’re deciding the slogan.”

“No, I mean that should be the slogan,” Fred explained. “McDonalds.”

“McDonalds…” Bill repeated slowly.

“Yeah.”

“Just McDonalds?”

“Yes.”

Janet titled her head. “I mean… it’s certainly… informative? I guess?”

Fred nodded, clearly pleased with this assessment.

“Look, it doesn’t matter what our ideas are because we’re not getting a new slogan!” Bill interrupted.

“We’re not?”

“No!” he insisted. “Our old one is just fine.”

They had reached Bill’s house by now, a small apartment with broken windows. Fred leaned against the railing leading up the steps. “I don’t know. ‘I’m lovin’ it just falls a little flat.”

“Yeah,” Janet agreed. “I mean, who even came up with that?”

“Maybe,” Bill said, irritation coloring his tone. “Whoever came up with it worked really hard on it and doesn’t appreciate it being critiqued. Maybe he spent all night working on it and was really proud with what he came up with. Maybe he was an awesome guy who put his all into it and was also coincidentally  of an average height even though everyone insisted he was short because they’re jerks. I don’t know, maybe!”

Janet screwed up her mouth, shaking her head. “No, I’m pretty sure it was some rapper guy, but good guess. Weirdly specific, but good guess.”

Bill sighed, seeing the pointlessness of the conversation. “This is my place. I’ll see you guys later.” He wrenched the door, which was stuck on a little piece of woof in the threshold, open, and disappeared into his crappy apartment building. 

Left to their own devices, the two pushed off the railing and continued on their way. As they went on they continued their musings about the supposed rapper’s name.

“What was his name…?” Fred mused. “Prussia T?”

“Nah, I think it was Plush Tea.”

“That’s not it… Plum Tent?”

“That’s just ridiculous.”

2.

Bill sighed happily, stretching his arms out over his head where he was curled up in one if the lounge chairs in the tiny break room. “I feel great, Fred. The profits are up, spring break is almost here, and I finally got all my paperwork done for the afternoon. I don’t believe I’ve ever felt this good!”

Across the room, the door burst open and Janet bounded in, her smile as bright as ever. “Hey guys!”

Bill scowled, leaning his head back. “Aaaaaand it’s ruined.”

Janet hopped up on the table where Fred was eating a bowl of unusually colored salad, clasping her hands together. “Guys, I have an idea.”

Fred scooched his salad away from her butt with a finger. “Oh did you now?”

“Yep! You know how stores sometimes give out free samples?”

Bill closed his eyes, trying to block out her voice. “Yes,” Fred said for him.

“Well, I was thinking, what if we did that? With our French Fries?”

Bill sat up, her words catching his attention despite himself. “What, like give away a sample for free?”

“That would be the definition of the word,” Fred muttered. 

She nodded. “Yeah, except instead of a sample, what if we just gave away the French Fries?”

“Gave them away,” Bill repeated slowly.

“Yep!”

“Janet, do you realize how business works? First of all--” Bill sprung up from his chair, gesturing with his hands as he paced about-- “There’s the issue of money. If we gave them away for free we wouldn’t be making a profit. Then, because of the lack of money we’re receiving, we wouldn’t be able to make any more fries. Now we’re making no fries, one of our trademark dishes--”

“Is it?” Fred asked in surprise.

“--and we haven’t made any money.” He paused, turning on his heel to face her. “Do you understand?”

Janet was still smiling, and it was difficult to tell if anything he had said had made an impact on her. “Oh Bill. You may know fancy words like profit and trademark and money--”

“That last one is a common word!” Bill exclaimed. 

“But you have to remember that us making money is not the end goal--”

“It is literally our only goal,” Fred pointed out.

“--but instead to bring happiness to all,” Janet finished. “Isn’t that why our symbol is a smiley face?”

Bill frowned. “I’m pretty sure that’s just because Steve accidentally pressed his face against the copying machine. At least that’s what he told me. In confidence. Wait. Ah shoot. Guys, just forget you heard any of that.”

“Anyway,” Janet continued, ignoring him. “If we promised to bring happiness to everyone, shouldn’t we also bring happiness to those who are less fortunate?”

“I’m less fortunate due to listening to this conversation,” Bill grumbled.

“What about the homeless and poor people of the world? How are they supposed to buy French Fries if they don’t have any money? They can’t. Hence why I propose we give them away for free.” She stared hard at Bill, crossing her arms. “Do you want to starve the homeless, Bill? Do you?”

Bill stared at her, gaping and thrown for a loop by this sudden turn in logic. “I--what?”

Janet sighed, shaking her head. “I’m disappointed in you Bill. Starving the homeless...”

Fred frowned at him. “Really? I expected better from you.”

“Guys, no one is starving the homeless!”

“Then how come they don’t have any food?” Janet challenged. 

Bill groaned, rolling his eyes into the back of his head. “I mean, technically someone is, or... I don’t know! Look, it’s a nice ideal, but it’s just not how business works.”

“Maybe not your businnes,” Janet muttered. 

“WE HAVE THE SAME BUSINESS!” Bill pressed the heels of his hands into his forehead. “Ugh... Fred, how much trouble would you get in for the homicide of your very annoying co-worker?” He shot a glare over at Janet. “Asking for a friend.”

“Not that much, depending on how you dispose of the body and who catches you,” Fred answered, returning to his salad. “I recommend sulfuric acid or lye for the bodies. Of course, sometimes that stuff can be a bit difficult to get ahold of, not to mention wily and dangerous at times. For an amateur, I would suggest simply not leaving fingers or evidence and burying the body in a deep hole somewhere casual and public, where no one would think to look. The important thing to remember is not to return to the crime scene; that’s where everyone slips up.”

He took another bite of his salad before he noticed them both staring, their earlier argument forgotten. “What?”

“Fred, I meant that as a joke,” Bill said cautiously, blanching. “What the hell man?”

Fred shrugged. “Don’t check my basement.”

“You live on the second floor of an apartment building!”

“My statement stands.”

Janet chuckled nervously. 

“Oookay,” Bill exhaled nervously. A small part of him wanted to ask what he meant by that, but an even larger part of him didn’t want to risk the answer. “Anyway... we’re not giving away French Fries for free.”

Immediatelly, their attention was diverted and Fred went back to finishing his salad. 

Eventually Janet won and they started giving away French Fries for free until Steve’s boss, the head operator of the whole business and the only sensible one in the building, shut the process down.

3.

“This is ridiculous! Preposterous! Absolutely and most definitely a breach of my rights! Completely and utterly outrageous!” 

“It’s only a day,” Steve promised, trying to calm down Bill as he stormed around the office. “You won’t eve have to do anything, not really! Just help out where you can!”

“Work at McDonalds!” Bill cried with a scoffing laugh. “With Janet!”

Steve wheeled after him in his chair, a rather inefficient method of travel normally yet he accomplished it with strange skill and accuracy. “We’re really low on people right now after that bee decided to sting someone and our entire building collasped, killing many employees whose families we had to pay off. I just need you two to work there for a day. You don’t even have to cook anything, just work the register.”

Bill paused in his rant, turning to glare at him. Steve made a small ‘eep’ noise and quickly added, “I mean, I suppose we could get someone else to do it...”

“Don’t let him walk all over you,” Fred reprimanded sternly; he had been invited along as moral support. “You’re his boss! Stand up for yourself!”

“Right!” Steve straightened up and tried to look intimidating, a difficult task in a bright pink swivel chair. “Bill, I am your boss! You will do as I say or else I’ll... I’ll.. uh, lower your paycheck!”

“Bill are you going to let him talk to you like that?” Fred demanded, turning to his friend now. 

“This is forced labor! I didn’t sign up for this! I was seeking an office job, not bonding time with Janet in a restaurant!” Bill snapped. 

“Steve, are you just going to take that?”

“Whose side are you on?” Bill cried, turning furiously on his friend. 

“I don’t know!” Fred moaned, sinking against the wall. “You’re both my friends... ugh, I hate conflict.”

“Bill, if you don’t agree, I’ll be forced to... to... to make you work with Janet for a whole week!”

Bill gasped dramatically, stumbling back as if he had been shot. “How could you? What kind of monster does that? What, do you eat puppies too?”

Now it was Steve’s turn to gasp. “I would never eat puppies! How could you even say that?”

“Actually, it’s quite legal and morally acceptable to eat puppies in several places in the world,” Fred piped up. “Some are quite nutritious. And yummy.”

Steve stared at him aghast. “Fred! You eat puppies?”

“I mean, it’s happened in the past--”

Steve’s eyes widened. 

“But I really think we should focus on the issue at hand.” 

“I can’t believe you eat puppies,” Steve murmured sadly.

“It was one time!” Fred snapped. “Get over it. Now. Bill, if you do this thing for Steve which, technically, you are legally required to do but whatever, you can skip the next three nights of karaoke night.”

Bill’s eyes lit up. “Really? Three weeks of no being forced to enjoy myself?” He glanced down, biting his lip. “Work with Janet all day... no karaoke... stuck with Janet... no singing... looking at Janet’s face... finishing the last season of Angry Neighbors...”

He continued to mutter for a moment, contemplating, and Steve fixed Fred with a betrayed look. “You guys have karaoke night without me?”

“Steve, we asked you if you wanted to come; you said no.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve agreed defensively. “But I didn’t think you were serious! I thought you just wanted an excuse to hang out with your cool boss.”

“Right, cool,” Bill snorted, momentarily distracted from his dilemma. “Right.”

“I am!” Steve frowned. “You guys really have karaoke night without me?”

“I mean, not willingly,” Fred corrected. “We drag Bill along with us. 

“It’s true,” Bill agreed. “They’re insufferable. Also, I’ve thought about it, and I don’t know what to do. Both options are terrible.”

Steve spun sympathetically in his chair. “Is hanging out with Janet really that bad?”

“Yes!” Bill exclaimed. “I keep telling you guys over and over that I genuinely dislike her. I don’t know what you guys have such a hard time understanding about this.”

“With that attitude, someone might snatch her up before you ever get a chance to,” Steve said. 

“Good! Let them! I don’t care!” He plopped angrily down in an opposite swivel chair. After a moment, he shook his head, grinning. “Oh who am I kidding. No one would be stupid enough to go out with Janet.”

Steve licked his bottom lip nervously, glancing around. “Actually,” he started in a slow, hesitating voice. “She was dating someone recently.”

Bill didn’t move, but his fists tightened at his sides. “Oh?”

“Yeah. This really big, strong, muscular, extremely handsome, extremely tall guy,” Steve said, listing attributes off on his fingers. 

Bill rolled his eyes. “I’m sure he wasn’t that tall--”

“Six foot six if I remember correctly.”

It it hadn’t been attached to his face, Bill’s jaw would have dropped to the floor. “S-Six foot six?” he stammered, poorly hiding his jealousy. 

Even Fred widened his eyes. “Wow... Is this what it feels like to be the short one?”

“Just out of curiosity,” Bill said nonchalantly, picking at his fingernails. “Are they still together? Just for curiosity’s sake, I don’t care or anything like that.”

Steve shook his head. “Nah. Janet says they broke up weeks ago.” A smile slowly dawned on his face. “Why?”

Bill flushed. “No reason! Anyway, I suppose one day of Janet is better than three weeks of her.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Really? So that means you’ll do it?”

Bill shrugged reluctantly. “I guess. At least this means I’ll finally be able to figure out what it’s like to work in a fast food restaurant. Why’s it even called fast food? Is there slow food?”