#this was supposed to post last night but the wifi cut out

[the-dixon-effect]

Evergreen

A/N: this is actually my first ever fic from a request lol. you can find the request here, thanks so much anon :)

A/N: this might just be my favourite yet 😍

era: season 3-4, prison era

summary: out on a run, the pair is attacked by a herd of walkers and gets injured fighting them off. holed up in a bunker in the woods, feelings are confessed under less-than-peaceful circumstances.

words: 2.9k

pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

warnings: a little gore (it's a twd fic, come on), language

As you wrapped your arms tightly around Daryl's waist and rested your head on the length of his shoulders, he took this as an impression to speed up and the bike quickly disappeared from the sight of the watchtower. Instead of the usual back-by-nightfall runs you were accustomed to, Rick had decided to send the two of you off on a recon mission searching around the outskirts of a nearby town. The plan was to spend the night in an old apartment building, clearly indicated on the map you were provided with. If the aim was to bring back a stock of useful supplies, you would have taken a truck instead, and probably another pair of hands. But today, it was just the two of you enjoying the hot Georgian summer, and you had other things on your mind.

One night alone with Daryl far away from the rest of the group? This was the perfect opportunity to spend some one-on-one time with the archer you'd been pining over for months, and, depending on how it goes, you might just confess your feelings for him. You had to contain your excitement when Rick briefed the both of you about the plan.

You trusted Daryl, and even trusted his instincts enough to close your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder. Just as you were getting carried away in your usual daydreams about the archer, this time with him in a little closer proximity, you looked up and diverted your attention to the situation in front of you.

"Oh, shit," you heard him say. The sound of his voice was almost completely drowned out by the familiar growling noises you knew all too well.

"Oh my God, I thought- I thought Rick and the group cleared this road!" you said, heart pounding at the sight of fifty-or-so walkers heading straight towards you.

"Yah, thought so too. C'mon, let's turn around-" Looking over your shoulder, you noticed five or six lamebrains that must have wandered into the road at the sound of the motorcycle engine. Soon enough, the entire road was blocked on either side and Daryl had no choice but to brace himself for a sharp turn into the woods.

"Hol' on, I'm gonna go slow through the trees." At this point, you had completely abandoned your train of thought, and focused on holding on tight in fear of getting hurt.

As Daryl weaved the bike in and out of the trees, you started to speculate what he thought was the best next step. Now surrounded by woodland and sufficiently in the clear regarding the herd, he slowed down for a second, keeping the roaring engine switched on.

"Daryl, what the hell do we do now?" you said with the slightest chuckle. The adrenaline still hadn't worn off, but at least you weren't surrounded by a hundred or more rotters who were hungry for your flesh.

"I think I know where we are," he drawled, stepping off the bike that was still running. "There's a bunker round 'ere somewhere. We'll have to sit tight down there for a little whi-" he was cut off by a walker that seemed to come straight out of nowhere. You leapt off your position on the bike and immediately plunged your buck knife into the skull of the walker that knocked Daryl to the ground. Dragging the corpse off of him that, upon closer inspection, appeared to be that of a former factory worker judging from the uniform, you lay on all fours over him for a moment, catching your breath. Luckily, the two of you seemed relatively unharmed. You rolled over and stared up at the sky.

Suddenly, the bike that you forgot to set upright by flipping the kickstand came toppling over and landed right on top of Daryl. You heard a yelp of pain before leaping up once again to heave the vehicle off of him. To your dismay, the bike was much heavier than you had imagined. If only the roles were reversed, Daryl would've probably been able to lift the bike off of you with ease. After struggling immensely for a few moments, you managed to lift up the motorcycle and this time, you leant it up against the nearest tree, albeit a little frustratedly.

"Damn bike..." you said, earning a snigger from the man laying on the ground. You turned to him and knelt next to him, noticing the bleeding from his upper chest. "Shit, Daryl! Are you alright?" you said, attempting to peel off the layers of fabric that concealed the wound. If you knew a little more about bikes, you might have been able to determine the specific part of the vehicle that was sharp enough to hurt Daryl in this way, how deep the wound might be and what you could do to help.

"I'm fine," he said, a little weakly.

"You're not, Daryl. Let me help you," you pleaded. He stood up on his own, brushing away your helping hand. The usual stoic presence of the man was a little diminished, and he wobbled as he stood. You also noticed his odd stance and remembered how the heavy wheel of the bike dug into his right leg. "I'm so sorry, Daryl."

"Told ya', I'm jus' fine. Bunker's that way," he hesitantly pointed in the direction the bike would've been heading. "C'mon, leave the bike here an' we'll walk," he drawled.

"Are you sure? You think you can walk that far?" you questioned his strength, considering he already appeared to be limping and he hadn't even started walking yet. You reached for his arm and draped it over your shoulder, in your best effort to help him walk. The bloody patch on his shirt was growing and thought it best to hurry to this bunker so you could patch him up.

A thought entered your head. Fuck. This was not how your day was supposed to go, you mused. You'd reach the destination, make conversation with him about this and that, occasionally giving him your best doe-eyes. Once nighttime arrived, perhaps there would conveniently only be one double bed in whatever cabin you chose to hunker down in, and your plan would be set in motion. You figured that that would all be happening right now if you hadn't dropped his own fucking bike on him!

After about 20 minutes of walking side-by-side in relative silence, you started to feel a little disheartened, though, despite the nature of this particular plan B, you still enjoyed his company and proximity. "Righ' here," Daryl gestured to a small brick structure just big enough for a single wooden door. Completely abandoned, there was moss growing on the walls and took a small shove to force it open. As it creaked inwards, you were met by a dark, damp staircase leading straight into the ground.

"After you," you spoke, somewhat hesitant to enter the dilapidated bunker.

The underground room was filthy, yet, at a glance, it seemed fit for a one-night stay, and in these circumstances, you didn't really have any other choice. It was small and cramped inside, almost completely filled with cheap furniture that was covered in a thick layer of dust. When Daryl put down his crossbow after thoroughly checking the space for any more walkers, you approached him and urged him to rest on the single bed in the corner.

"I'm fine, Y/N," he said, looking up at you as you searched for the medkit in your bag and set it down on the ground. "Take off your shirt." he obliged and you ran your fingers over the cut that stretched a little further than you had previously determined. "I'm so sorry, I did not mean for this to happen," you said softly, tracing your fingertips over his torso. "I think you'll need a couple stitches. Let me fix you up, since it's my fault in the first place."

"It's not your fault," he said, looking at you with those deep blue eyes that you adored so.

"Well, it is. It takes an idiot to get off a bike and not flip the kickstand," you said with a sweet smile shaping your lips as you prepared to stitch the wound.

He chuckled a little at this. "It's fine, done it myself countless times," he began. "At least when I did it the bike didn't crush me in the first place," he said sarcastically, and he was smiling now, too. You giggled at his response.

"Do you think your leg will be okay?"

"Dunno what yer talking 'bout."

"Don't be like that, Daryl. You were limping all the way over here."

"I'll be fine, jus' give it a day," he drawled in response.

You sighed, in somewhat admiration of his stubbornness and forbearance. You trusted his instinct yet still wanted to do anything to help him. He winced silently as you began to stitch the wound after cleaning it with an alcohol pad.

Time passed quickly in his company, and, unusually, you didn't seem to mind not being able to see how much the sun had set. You set up a dim lantern in the centre of the room, and appreciated how the soft, warm light made his face glow. It felt so good, for once, to feel totally safe from any threats from the world above your head. Perhaps that feeling of safety came from simply being near Daryl, you figured. Any feelings of discouragement from earlier that day had dissipated.

For dinner, you scavenged for anything that you could find in the cupboards that was more appealing than what you'd brought with you. Daryl had struck the jackpot you supposed, after finding nothing yourself.

"Peanut butter and jelly, diet soda, and pig's feet. That's a white trash brunch right there," he spoke up, holding his findings up proudly.

"Perfect," you said, unable to contain your grin just from looking at Daryl, and how he slowly let his guard down in front of you and relaxed.

You sat across from each other at the makeshift dining table, stealing glances at each other as you tucked into your 'white trash brunch', as Daryl called it.

"This is nice," you said quietly.

"Hm, the food?" his innocent response made you laugh.

"Oh yeah, definitely. I mean, being here, completely safe for once instead of being in the prison, where it feels like the fences could fall any second. Just being with you." you said, thinking out loud.

He smirked up at you upon hearing this. "Oh yeah?"

You hummed in response. "I, uhh- I was real worried earlier. 'Bout the walkers, then the cut. And, you," you spoke.

He was surprised at your words, but it felt good to hear that coming from someone else, to hear that they care about him. "Dun' need ta be. I should be the one worryin' 'bout ya'," he declared.

The two of you finished up and decided it was time to get some rest. Despite your best effort to persuade him to take the single bed, he resigned to the couch in his stubbornness that you couldn't argue with. You both ended up talking for a while before you fell asleep, sharing views about members of the group, and swapping stories about your best walker kills, or anything you thought worthy.

"I mean, have you ever met anybody who introduces themself by their full name to everyone they meet?"

"Rick Grimes," he said mockingly.

"I mean, I love the guy. But there's just something a little more admirable, more real, in guys like... you."

Quickly after your little confession, you drifted off to sleep, but Daryl found that sleep did not embrace him as easily that night. His head was full of you, and the last thing you said to which he'd offered no response. In truth, he too was thrilled to be able to spend this time with you, and didn't care in the slightest about your little accident earlier. He thought it was sweet how you rushed to take care of him, though he hated being the one who needed taking care of in the first place. You always seemed to be busy at the prison, chatting away with Maggie or working down on the farm. He was hesitant to approach you, in fear of saying the wrong thing or scaring you off. He thought about your gentle fingertips brushing over his wound, and the other scars on his chest that you noticed. What did you mean when you said, '...guys like you'? Do you... like him that way too?

He slowed down his thoughts. No, no, he can't start thinking like this. Not when you were turning in your sleep just a couple metres away. Perhaps, another day, he'd work up the courage to tell you how he felt. For now, he couldn't risk ruining the time he had alone with you until you returned to the prison.

When you awoke in the morning (or, it felt like the morning, you couldn't tell though due to the lack of natural light underground), you contemplated how that might just have been the best sleep you'd had since the fall began. That was probably thanks to Daryl practically sleeping next to you, you figured.

You turned over, still wrapped in the dusty sheets, to appreciate the sight of Daryl Dixon in the morning. He stood in the corner of the room, bags packed, fiddling with what looked like an arrow. You rubbed your eyes and blicked, once, twice, in an effort to get a better look at whatever he was doing. Unlike Daryl, you didn't share his anxiety surrounding telling you how he felt. If you could make it clear to him in any way possible that you care about him, you would.

You stood up and grabbed your flannel shirt from the heap you left it on the floor. Your legs were exposed as you stood across from him, wearing a pair of skimpy pyjama shorts, a tank top and your red flannel jacket. It was safe to say that Daryl liked the view.

Over breakfast, you discussed the plan for the day which involved navigating back through the forest to find the bike, and then going ahead with the original plan, which was scouting around the outskirts of the nearby town. Daryl, distracted by his late-night thoughts, couldn't help but notice your hair, your morning expression, and your clothes, in a way that he hadn't done before.

"Yeah, yeah. This time, I'll try not to drop any heavy machinery on you," you smiled.

"Mm. Better not." If it meant that you would brush your fingertips over his chest again, he would happily let a hundred bikes fall on top of him.

As the two of you gathered the last of your belongings, you exchanged glances before climbing the concrete staircase and opening the door that led to the forest floor. What you were met with, however, was a crowd of walkers that all turned to face you as if on cue. It didn't even look like a herd, just a mess of stumbling corpses circling the bunker. They must have sensed you, somehow; but there was no time now for figuring out how this happened.

Suddenly every decaying face spun and came at you from every direction, and you simply looked at each other before deciding that there was only one thing to do: run.

So you ran, and ran. You ran until you noticed that Daryl was lagging a little and you remembered his leg injury from the day before. You grabbed him and pulled him into the hollowed-out trunk of a large oak tree. Your heavy, laboured breaths were silenced by his hand reaching over your mouth. He used his other hand to make a 'Shh' sign. Looking over your shoulder, you watched as the walkers passed you by, wincing at the occasional growl or smack as they snapped their decomposing jaws shut.

You had to say something, now. Or else you'll wish you'd said something later. "Daryl," you whispered, meeting his eyes and still trying to be as quiet as possible. These may not have been the perfect circumstances for confessing your feelings for the man currently stood a couple inches away from your face, but they will have to do.

"Daryl, I- I need you to know something," he wished you would just stay quiet. If anything happened to you he would never forgive himself. "If we don't make it back, or- or if something happens, I need you to know that I love you. M-Maybe more than I should. I just- I can't help it and I had this plan of how the run would go and I didn't mean to injure you or-"

For God's sakes, Y/N, why were you still talking? There's a damn herd walking past and- Daryl knew that there was only one way to shut you up. He placed his hand on your neck and moved his lips to meet yours. He let himself get lost in the sweet kiss as soon you rested one hand in his hair and the other on his chest. He'd wanted this for so long, and he felt a pang of guilt for letting it happen in such dire circumstances, and not in some place safe, like back at the prison. You pulled away, suddenly remembering where you were.

"I, uh- Do you...?" you felt his warm breath on your neck.

"Yeah... I do," he began. "C'mon, the walkers are gone. Why don't we finish this up back home?" he smirked.

"That sounds like a great idea."

[annwrites]

Really loved your Billy ff 😔pls dont Stop writing for him, youre so good🗣️

I'm so glad you liked it!

And I'd like to continue writing for his character, but the only idea I have atm is a rockstar!billy au, but as I don't have wifi where I live, I really need to be somewhere with it & on a computer, so I can start doing research for it.

Like, venues during that time, hotels, other bands, the typical makeup of an 80s rock band, what made them successful, the layout of their songs & albums, instruments, tour busses, what a typical tour looked like, etc.

If I follow through, it's going to be a lot of work. But it might be fun. If I can plot anything more out than the handful of scene ideas I have in my head, that is.

Ok, I'm putting this under the cut bc someone is gonna be curious about my ideas and I'm always so eager to share lol:

I plan for there to be a love triangle. I did make another post detailing a bit of what reader & Billy's first time meeting might go like.

Long story short, she ends up going on tour with them as like...not a groupie, bc she def doesn't identify as that. Just... She's there bc Billy wants her there. But bc he's (in this fic) an addict, an asshole, a man-whore, a rock god, etc, she refuses to just give into what he wants.

When something more does finally happen, I have an idea for a scene where she comes to his hotel unexpectedly, like a day early, and finds him in a compromising position with 2 girls. Having sex with one, snorting coke off the other. She goes to leave, to go home permanently, vowing that she's done for good, but the lead guitarist stops her and professes his love for her. And bc she's an emotional wreck, she gets into bed with him.

And after... Things get messy. Like, Billy & the guitarist already dislike one another (honestly, think Billy Dunne & Eddie Roundtree from Daisy Jones if you want an idea of the relationship), but BOY do things get amped up the next morning when one of the other band members asks where reader is, as she was supposed to be in by that morning &

guitarist is all: "she's in bed".

Billy: "the hell did you just say?"

Guitarist: "Yeah, she's asleep in my room. Guess she got tired after last night. We were up pretty late."

Billy ofc knows wtf he's implying & loses it. Idk, maybe he breaks a guitar or something.

But, she develops feelings for the guitarist, but bc the fic is about Billy... That's who it will always be for her. Him.

I have a scene written where the band manager tries to pay her off to get her out of the picture—as he can see things slowly starting to now come apart at the seams—that I plan to eventually share as a lil sneak peak, I think lol.

[thistransient]

Destination revealed: Kuala Lumpur! (yet another place I visited with my ex exactly ten years ago- not intentionally a factor in my choice, but perhaps subconsciously). Ok, I did spend a night at a hostel by the airport in 2018, but that doesn't count. I honestly don't remember the original trip very clearly (besides the kindly Filipino guy who intervened as I absolutely butchered a mango in my first ever attempt at peeling one... also the hostel employee who gave me a haircut while slightly drunk, and was completely clueless when I told him I wanted to look like G-Dragon who was on a billboard across the way). But I digress.

The flight was uneventful, for possibly the first time ever someone hot sat next to me but they barely looked over and I had no desire to make things awkward for the next five hours. When I'm stuck in the middle row, I like to fold my arms, cross my legs, and then bend forward, balance my forehead on my uppermost knee and go to sleep, which I have never seen anyone else do but y'all are missing out.

Landing was even less eventful, Malaysia doesn't even have landing cards. No questions. Just fingerprints, photo, stamp, goodbye. I know airport currency exchange kiosks are a rip off but when I have small amounts of random cash I want to get rid of, they're convenient. I was exchanging baht this time. The kiosk guy said something to me that I thought was about baht, but I couldn't quite make it out, so I kept saying "what?" and after the third time he yelled "PASSPORT!" Oh. I was shamed. I wanted to say, it's not your accent, it's me, but by that point fleeing was more of a priority.

The wifi would not connect on the airport train, and my phone's GPS function was doing precisely the opposite of functioning, but I had looked up directions to my hotel already in the morning, and thus resorted to the old-fashioned tactic of examining posted maps and looking at the street signs. (Perhaps this dates me a bit, as a younger friend of mine refused to even leave his immediate neighbourhood without a smartphone when his was away for repairs.)

Ironically I am staying in Chinatown (why even leave Taipei, huh). After finally arriving and collapsing in bed for a while, I dragged myself back out to a nearby Chinese restaurant open late, impressed one waitress by ordering in Mandarin, tried to ask a question to another waitress only to discover she only spoke Cantonese (I wanted to know what these bowls of hot water were for, lest I do something embarrassing with them- turns out they were just for washing the cutlery, which was new for me because iirc people usually do it with a teapot and cup in China/Taiwan), ate a ton of noodles, and was convinced by a wandering fruit-selling lady to buy a pack of cut guava, partly because she was willing to have a conversation in Mandarin, and partly because the last time an old lady hassled me to buy stuff at night I told her I would if it had been fruit and I might as well stick by my principles. (Also I haven't had guava in ages but I was ogling it at the fruit stand back home lately.) I don't know what's in that lil packet for sprinkling on it but it was fantastic.

I have no idea what I'm going to do here (for a week), I suppose just wander around taking photos and trying not to overheat. I had half a mind to take the overnight train around the east coast just for the heck of it, but it leaves at odd hours and I'd just be going there and back. If I'm determined to take a long train ride I could just...go down to Singapore...(I may have been investigating the remote browsing feature on the dating app, and Singapore was the only Asian city available). We shall see how things unfold!

[fizzingwizard]

Back in the US for the first time in five years

(Wowww apparently posting on tumblr got waaaayy stupider during the time I was offline bahahahaha. took forever just to put in a cut and start a new line!)

Left home at 2:30 on Friday Japan time, got to my mom's new place around 9 pm New York time. About 22 hrs traveling in total. Not the longest and I didn't have to stop in like O'hare or any place I hate. Lots of usual flight nonsense occurred on the way, but it was overall smooth. The worst was when I got to New York and it took 30 min to get my bag because it was the very last one to be unloaded -.-; Then I was supposed to meet a driver to take me to my mom's place, but that driver got held up and sent someone else, who changed the plan, but I didn't know till I got out of baggage claim. And the driver couldn't get inside because it was so busy, so I had to just wait outside looking for his license plate amid all the many, many cars in the night. He did find me and then lectured me because I didn't have a good method of communication. I was going to rely on wifi because I couldn't find a US sim card for my old phone, a plan which would have been fine had the driver come into the airport like was the original plan. Because he was outside I couldn't access wifi. So. Anyway I tipped him with an apology... I do know better ways to have a phone when you travel internationally, but the problem is my current phone is just too old. It works just fine in Japan but can't do apps and no one makes anything for it. So I need a new one, but I just didn't want to pay through the nose for it so I didn't rush it...

Whatever. I got to the house in the end.

My mom's condo with her partner is small but really nice. It's weird being somewhere totally new, but much less weird than I expected because they made it so comfortable.

My mom's partner is really chill and doesn't have issues talking about my dad

The town they're living in is like Star's Hollow minus all the TV show over-decorating. It's really nice. Everyone is old though x'D I've seen like two youngish people outside of store employees. I'm no great conversationalist to begin with, and talking to people 30-40 years older than me is even harder. All I can say is "I like your scarf." In a conversation about raffles that falsely claim to be associated with charities, I made what I thought was a reasonable comment comparing that with psychics who promise people they're in touch with their loved one and take their money. Of course, one lady nearby totally believes psychics are real and "has done years of research on it." I'm like ok I'm not saying psychic powers can't exist, I'm saying taking people's money while lying to them is bad... and then uhhh just moved on to complimenting her scarf.

They're nice people but it is funny, watching a large crowd of people have conversations over each other, no one really interested in what each other is saying but just happy to be talking while another person is near and talking too...? My mom wants to talk about a movie she watched, so she's talking about that, at the same time her partner is talking about the food, their friend can't hear either of them because it's so loud so she's talking about the drinks at the bar. There was really no coherence! But everyone is happy and having fun. I don't get it but I guess that's why I suck at small talk.

Also talked to my dad. He said hello and then shared all his medical updates, which apparently includes he's got some very slow-acting form of leukemia! Sooo that was a fun surprise! I got to cry on my first day back!

I am also sick. Started with a sore throat literally the day before I was supposed to leave and bit by bit got other symptoms. Fortunately it didn't fuck me up too much on the plane. Probably just a cold. Keep crossing my fingers I'll be over it soon.

but I'm overall happy. I will feel better when I'm no longer sick and jetlagged, but it's nice to see my mom. I don't like all these crowds, but I like the area and I think during the week I won't be getting shuffled all over the place so much. it's gonna go by fast so I gotta appreciate

[mihai-florescu]

Another one of them is you narrating your Leo coded friend(?) adventures backpacking through Europe because that made me anxious and it was a third degree knowledge type of thing and they had to get to a place before a certain time because it was their birthday??? I think??? And they also lost the bus or a train one time and that's why they had to resort to hitching a ride with some randoes??? That's like all over the place because you kept saying different things as they traveled so I only remember bits and pieces but it left... An impression....

There's also the fact that I have a clear distinct memory of you regularly talking and/or posting about hypmic or at least seeing you in the asks of a hypmic blog with a jakurai icon (I think it was jakurai but actually it could have been Yuki as well) but still with the same url as now and at this point I no longer know if it's a made up memory or not...

It mustve been a yuki pfp, i dont think i ever had a jakurai one. But i also dont remember talking to many ppl about hypmic...hmm. im curious when that couldve been.

As for my friend...ok here's the story as i remember it. She was supposed to fly from spain to belgium and attend a week of some socialist youth meeting camp in a forest with ppl she had met in highschool during an exchange semester. She had been partying the days leading up to the flight (i remember the day before the flight she showed me the cut she got from climbing some? Barbed wire? To tresspass to a rave? And in that same night she also fell asleep in a field?) Anyway she missed the flight, bought another one, but then didnt have enough money to buy one back. She didnt want to borrow money or, like, tell family that she messed up, so she lied to them that she has enough money for a bus instead, when in reality she started hitchiking (it was also tricky cuz she needed to still buy food and stuff, and she really was pretty much broke).

I was at pride when she called me to say she set off on this journey and then for the next 2-3 days id get updates whenever she caught wifi. I dont remember every single connection but highlights include: the french family who asked if she could stay with them as a nanny. The brazilian guy who invited her to a party in luxembourg (and she went). The police picked her up at some point and brought her to a gas station or truck stop. Some other cars inbetween where nothing crazy happened. And finally in the last day, a truck that was going from france to barcelona, which was where she was supposed to return to. Because, yes, she had a birthday party to attend. Her own (combined with another roommate's, but still. I did not know whether she'd make it to 21 at the rate in which things were going). I love her so much and im glad it all worked out... she's the one with the cat named messi, if you're keeping track of my friends' cats. Messi's an icon, im sure you know him

[cucumbers-and-olives]

Enemies To Lovers- Part Two (Charlie Gillespie x reader)

i forgot to post this last night, oops! here it is now...

<<<part one—part three>>>

Summary: Its New Years, and you fare asked to stay in town for the annual New Years party. But what happens before and during the party? Well that’s a story!

Category: it’s a league of its own

Fandom: JATP

Paring: Charlie Gillespie x reader

Word Count: 1,960 (woah)

⚠️PLEASE READ⚠️ Warnings/Includes: if mentions of drinking, drugs, (getting) roofied/drugged, strong language and typos

Please make sure you are comfortable before reading this chapter.

A/N: so it’s a few days late, i hope you guys enjoy this NYE fic a few days after

Mandatory Thanking of the Betas: THANK YOU LOVES!!! you two literally hold me up and help me make my ideas into their finished product, so thank you!

AO3 link here (will be up by 1/7 10pm est, i’m have wifi issues at the moment)

Please don’t repost my work without my permission, in part or whole. My work can also be found on AO3 under the same username. Thank you!

“Y/N!” A woman said entering your room. It had been a week since you had arrived in the Gillespie home. In that short amount of time you had met all of Charlie’s younger cousins (there were only three, but they were a handful), celebrated Christmas the Gillespie way, and gotten into a total of five fights with Charlie over a range of things, but each one had a bigger fall out than the last. You supposed that was why at every meal your spot was next to his, an obvious way that Ms.Gillespie tried to “bring the two of you closer together.”

“Hun, you okay?” Ms.Gillespie said, her hand resting on yours. “You’ve been staring at that shirt for a while.”

“I’m alright, thank you,” You said, placing your shirt into the suitcase that lay on the floor. You were packing to leave, but you could tell that the older woman’s appearance in your room meant that you wouldn’t be leaving on your flight. You held your breath as she spoke.

“I’d like to invite you to stay through New Years. You’ve been such a help with the younger kids, and it’s been delightful to have you here.” She must have been telepathic at that point because she rushed out her next point. “And Charlie has agreed to play nice.”

“Ms.Gillespie, you are so kind, but I don’t think I have enough money-” You said, not wanting to overstay your welcome any longer.

“Nonsense, nonsense!” She cut you off. “I knew you would say this, it’s the kind of person you are, and so Charlie has found you a flight and we are paying for it.” You could tell that there was something that she was leaving out, but you could get hit with that later. Ignoring your work and your family was something that you were good at. And besides, hanging out at the Gillespie house was fun.

“Alright!” You agreed. She sweeped you up in a hug.

“Wonderful! Have you had lunch yet?” You shook your head. “Well that is perfect, I’ve got some sandwiches, so I expect to see you down in a few, okay?”

You nodded, and with that, she left, a smile on her face. You were excited to stay longer, but would Charlie’s promise hold? Would he really be nice for the remainder of your stay?

“Let’s hope so,” You said, closing your door and making your way to the kitchen. You should have been paying attention, but you weren’t. Bumping into someone, you both landed on the floor, your phones and other things flying.

“I am so sorry,” You said, picking up the various items. As you reached for one of the notebooks, your hands met and you finally saw who you had bumped into.

“Is this a game to you?” Charlie asked. His eyes were tear-stained, and you slowly noticed that some of the pages had tears on them too.

“I-” You picked his phone up along with yourself off the floor. “Are you okay?” You asked softly, tucking his phone into his back pocket, where you knew it had been before.

“Does it look like it? God, will you just fuck off! When are you leaving anyway?” He grumbled, his previously sad tone taking on a very harsh one. His hand that used to lay by his side was now in a very tight fist.

“I’m leaving after New Years. Your mom asked me to stay, and she’s paying for the flight back,” You said, answering honestly. You didn’t know what happened when he got angry- really, truly angry. And you didn’t want to see it.

“That’s why she had me- Oh my god, no. Just no.” He barked, stalking off.

“Yeah, you know what, fuck you too,” You whispered hotly, calming yourself down as you walked into the kitchen.

~

“Cause I don’t care when I’m with my baby yeah,” You sang along with the T.V. You enjoyed dancing to the Wii, and you hadn't minded when Anna had asked you to join. But the same song had played over five times now.

As the song ended, you placed your control down. “Gimme ten minutes, okay? I just gotta get some water,” She nodded, and you stepped out of the room and entered the kitchen.

“Is it this cabinet?” You said, opening the cabinet that you guessed the glasses were in. They weren’t in that one. Or the next, or the next or the next.

“Excuse me,” Charlie said, stepping around you to open a cabinet you could have sworn you had opened. He grabbed a glass and closed the cabinet, and poured himself a glass of water.

You opened the cabinet to grab a glass, but they seemed just out of your reach. You got on your tiptoes, and your fingers just brushed the edge of the glass.

He let out a little chuckle and grabbed the glass, and filled it up. “Thank you,” You said, reaching for it.

“Oh, you thought this was for you?” He feigned shock. “This is for Anna, she asked me to grab her a glass.”

“Are you kidding me?” You shouted after his retreating form. Sighing, you decided you could do without water as you walked back into the game room.

He sat smugly on the couch, sipping at his glass of water.

“Come on, let’s play!” Anna said, tugging at your hand.

“What song?” You asked, looking to the screen as she pressed play.

“I love it when you call me senorita, I wish I could pretend I didn’t need ya,” Anna sang to the track.

You felt the beat and began to follow the moves on the screen. You knew Charlie was staring at you, and so you made everything bigger. More power, more accuracy, more everything.

When the song ended, he walked out of the room, but he backtracked to whisper something in your ear.

“Strictly professional, Ms.Y/L/N. You aren’t that good of a dancer.”

~

“What do you think of this, Anna?” You said, showing the young girl the sparkling black dress you had on.

“You need more color! And that’s too shiny, and you wore it to Christmas dinner, and-“ She could have kept going, but she caught sight of something in your closet and pulled it out. “This! This is perfect!” Red, off-the shoulder, a leg slit, it was something you would never wear in a million years.

“I’ll… try it on?” You said, and Anna smiled as you stepped into the bathroom.

You pulled it off the black dress and put on the red one, but as you zipped up the back of the dress there was something in the way. A little card.

“Huh,” You were confused as you pulled it out, but as you read it, everything made sense.

You placed the card down to look at yourself in the mirror. The dress fit perfectly, falling down every curve perfectly. It wasn’t you that you saw in the mirror. It was who you pictured in your mind when you thought of yourself.

“Can I see it now?” Anna asked, knocking on the door.

“Yeah,” You said, opening the door.

“Woah,” She gasped softly, looking you up and down. “I think Charlie’s gonna love it.”

Before you could say anything in response, Anna ran out of the room.

~

“Really?”’ You said as you accepted the call on your phone. “I look amazing, but why?”

“Remind me what you’re talking about?” Savannah asked.

“Your acting is on point, Savannah Lee May.”

“Ooh, full name, I’m so scared!” She laughed. “You look good in red, and I knew you would need a dress for New Years!”

“Ya know, if you want to switch to facetime, all you need to do is ask. And the answer is yes.” You rolled your eyes as she squealed, quickly switching to facetime.

“You look stunning!” She gasped. “I wish I could pull off a dress that good!” She whined a bit.

“Who are you talking to?” Owen hollered in the background.

“Y/N! She looks amazing in the dress, come see!”

“Hey Y/N,” Owen said, stepping into frame. He made a face at Savannah. “If she wears that, you have to deal with Charlie when he calls to ruin my New Years.”

“What does he mean?” You asked. Savannah muted herself and had a heated argument with Owen before answering you.

“When we were drunk one time, Charlie talked about his ex. Specifically, the dress she always wore. A red off the shoulder with,” You cut her off.

“With one leg slit. Well that is specific, and I am not the woman that he wants to see in it.”

“It goes further,” She said. “The only people that heard that conversation were Jer, Caroline, Owen and I. So he’ll know that I did this, and he will call Owen to let out his frustration. He’s a nice guy, in that he’ll only yell at men. Truly yell.”

“Wow. So you are sending me into a death trap?”

“Not exactly-“ Owen’s phone rang, cutting her off.

“It’s him! Get over here and answer the phone for me please, Sav!” Owen shouted.

“Who?”

“Anna must’ve told him. She found the dress in my stuff.” You told her and she sighed, hanging up.

~

Music played loudly, filling every corner of the house. And where the music was, there were people. Maybe 75 or so, but it was only 11:30, and you had a feeling that number would increase. You didn’t know what, or more specifically who you were looking for as you scanned the room you were in.

“Hey doll, have a drink!” A random man said, and as he walked by he passed a drink to you. A clear but faintly yellow liquid was in the cup. You didn’t want to know what it was.

“Bottoms up-“ You said, about to tip the cup back and down it before someone pulled it out of your hands.

“I may despise you, but I am not about to let you get roofied,” Charlie said, handing you a beer. “Don’t you know that you have to be holding something at one of these kinds of parties?”

“I didn’t realize it was gonna be one of these kinds of parties,” You muttered, taking a swig of the beer.

“It’s always been like this,” He said, watching all of the couples.

“How close are we to midnight?” You asked.

“Maybe 30 miniutes? I’m gonna go see how my family is.” He said, leaving you in your tiny corner.

~

“10,” The room continued to chant.

You searched the room for Charlie, or at least a familiar face. Couples surrounded you, preparing to kiss at midnight. And you, like a 5 year old, prepared to cover your eyes.

“9,” There was no sign of him, but there were a few men around the room with a similar haircut. You slowly ruled them out.

“8,” His hair was too short.

“7,” His was too dark.

“6,” He was too short.

“5, 4,” You started to give up, just as you saw a couple emerge from one of the back rooms. That couldn’t be him, could it?

“3!” But that was his voice.

“2!” And that was his jacket. Your face dropped as you prepared yourself. You knew what the incoming trainwreck was but you couldn’t look away.

“Happy New Year!” The couples shouted before pulling their lover close.

You watched as his lips met hers. You looked for a bit too long before tearing your eyes away and stalking to your room. But you couldn’t help but look back, and when you did, your eyes met his for a moment.

And the mood shifted.

~

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[generallybarzy]

did you miss me? 🖤 mat barzal

Part 2  ~6,700  words

Finished this at midnight and spent the last 50 minutes just trying to get it to upload properly! I’m sorry if there are spelling errors in it but its 1am and I’m just so excited to post it. I’m so so so sorry for how long this got oh my god. I kind of should have split it into 3 parts but I just wanted to get it all out. I think I’m happy with it, which doesn’t happen with a lot of long stuff I used to write. @matbaezal I tagged you in the first part so here you go again bb :) Hope you all like it! 

Summary: After coming back into Mat’s arms after six months apart, it’s time for a cute, lovey-dovey reunion. You reveal some uncertainties you have about the relationship, and it sparks a heartfelt talk about feelings and the future of your relationship. Mat has been itching to tell you something for months now.  Warning: there’s some smut at the end ;)

“I’m so happy you’re finally back.” 

“I’m so happy to be back.” Mat couldn’t keep the smile off his face, and when you looked up at him the same unrestrained happiness he had, it only made him smile harder. This is her. This is the girl I love.

The way back from the airport had been a blur, with emotions still high and clouding your minds. You’re back you’re back you’re back. You couldn’t stay off of each other, your thumb was tracing circles into his hand over the console of the car, and you didn’t let go until it was time to get out. Mat had never felt happier than he did at this moment. He was sure that if they had been in the car for one more minute, he wouldn’t have been able to focus on the road anymore, not with this little beauty sitting next to him. Finally, finally, you were home with him. He couldn’t help but let his eyes drift down to you as you walked hand in hand down the hall towards his apartment. There was something different about you ever since you got back from your trip. The way you held yourself- whereas the girl he knew before had stressed over what she was going to do in her life, it looked like you finally found your purpose. There was a look in your eyes that was like you understood- you had seen poverty, injustice, suffering, and it left you feeling 100% more grateful for everything you had. You’d come back to him with little bits and pieces of your experience sticking onto you. He wasn’t upset about it, he didn’t want to change it at all- it just made you seem even more beautiful to him.

He could see how giddy you were, walking faster and pulling him along as his door came into view, and he squeezed your hand with a laugh. “Here we are, babe. Welcome back.”

 “God, I’ve missed this place so much.” It felt so empty without you here. Mat wanted to say something as he watched you gaze around his apartment, but he held his tongue. This wasn’t your home yet, you had your own apartment that you probably missed more. “I’m sorry for putting such a long pause on our relationship, Mat.” With your bag of essentials- all that you would need for one night at his place- slung over his shoulder, Mat closed the door and put his hands on your hips.

“Don’t apologize for this. You enjoyed it, and I’m happy for you. I’d wait however long you need. Okay?” I love you, he wanted to say it. He really wanted to say it. “I really like you, don’t forget that.”

“Okay.” He smiled down at you until you finally smiled back. “I really like you too.”

 “Good.” He punctuated it with a kiss to your nose, knowing you loved it when he did that. “Do you want something to eat? I’m sure the airplane food wasn’t that great.” He watched, amused, as you thought it over for a moment, shrugging and making those cute facial expressions that he had missed so dearly.

“Nah. I’ll eat tomorrow.” You leaned into him again and wrapped your arms around his waist, grabbing at the back of his hoodie and tugging him closer to you. “I just want to get showered and cuddle you.” He hummed with a small smile and bent down so that his forehead rested against yours, not breaking eye contact- the intensity of his gaze burned through you. Slightly breathless and maybe a little bit shy at this simple, innocent move, you added: “Come with me?” Mat smiled and pressed a kiss to your jaw, voice dropping in volume to whisper against your skin.

“Don’t have to ask me twice.”  

In seconds, he was pulling you by the hand across the span of his apartment and towards his bathroom, slipping out of his shoes on the way and leaving them in the middle of the room. “Woah, slow down there cowboy.” You laughed at his antics as he set your bag down on the counter and quickly began to strip out of his hoodie. Wow, it really had been six months since you last saw him like this, hadn’t it? Well, save for those times when Mat was particularly missing you and wanted to get a little bit seductive over FaceTime or other video messaging you’d tried out. But with your crappy WiFi connection that kept cutting out, it really wasn’t easy to find it sexy. 

“You look a little shocked. Miss seeing this?” You flushed in the warm heat of the bathroom and met his sparkling gaze and cocky grin. There was already steam rising behind the glass shower door.

“Sorry, I was just…” You waved it off and wrapped your arms around him, sliding your hands up and down his bare shoulders. “This is all still new. It’s been a while, huh?” He pulled you up to his lips and kissed you, much more passionately than he could have at the airport. He pulled back after a moment with a pleased hum and you giggled at him. “We’re wasting water...” 

“Yeah. Well, if we’re taking a shower, you might need to be wearing a lot less clothes.” He smiled against your lips and pulled your hoodie over your head. You shimmied out of your pants, peeled off your socks and looked up at him as he did the same, feeling a little bit shy under his gaze after six months apart. It shouldn’t be nerve-racking, you’ve been naked in front of him before. Just, never like this.

“You first.” You motioned to his boxers.

He smirked, putting on a teasing face as he stripped down without any hesitance. A flush rose up to your cheeks just at seeing him naked again after all this time. There were some things that just didn't translate through the phone screen. He… really was something- you’d never get used to how good he looks. “Your turn.” Your breath caught in your throat as he closed the space between your bodies, fingers tracing the edge of the bralette you had on. He watched you with soft eyes, waiting for your permission. You could only nod as he unhooked it and let it fall to the floor. After laying two kisses on your chest and mumbling compliments that you didn’t catch, he knelt down and hooked his fingers in your underwear, and you kind of regretted choosing comfort over sexiness today. But the regret immediately simmered away when he looked up with intense, adoring eyes and his cheeky smile as he dragged the fabric down your legs, leaving kisses the whole way down your thighs. 

"Mat, we really should get in." Your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Yeah.” Still, he didn’t make a move to get in the shower. He stood and pulled you flush against him, sighing into the feeling of your bodies, finally skin to skin after six months. God, your skin was so smooth. You were so warm, so soft. His hair tickled your skin as he dipped his face down to kiss at your neck, breathing in the familiar scent of your sweet perfume. 

“Mat, really. Shower.” In one quick move, he scooped you up into his arms, laughing at the startled little noise you made. Being this close to him, you could feel the laugh rumble through his chest as he stepped into the shower. 

Before you could properly get under the water, Mat had you up against the wall, hands gripping your thighs, kissing you feverishly. Your hands slid up from where they were resting on his chest to curl around his wet shoulders and up the back of his neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping softly and tugging his face away from yours. “Mat, Jesus.” You dropped your forehead onto his shoulder and laughed. “I wanna do this, just… we should actually shower first.”

“Yeah, sorry. I just can’t help it. You’re so… fucking amazing.” He left a little kiss on your head, laughing with you. And just like that, Mat was back to being soft and sweet. He let you down onto your own feet and pulled you under the water with him. God, he looked better than every other man you’ve ever seen. You felt things with Mat that you never thought you’d ever feel in your life. Things you didn’t even know how to put into words.

Mat, on the other hand, loved you. He knew he loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you, and fuck, he didn’t know how to tell you.

He looked down at you, watching the water and sweet-smelling foamy body wash slide across your soft skin. God, just as he thought that you couldn’t get any better, that he couldn’t fall even more in love with you, you go and look like this. You looked up at him with those pretty eyes and slid your hands up his torso and chest, leaving behind foamy trails of soap. Mat had to hold back a smile as you leaned up for a sweet kiss, but then you booped his nose, leaving behind a dollop of foam, and that’s what did it for him. Right there in the shower, in what was supposed to be an intimate moment, he was bending over in loud, ugly laughter just because you were just too cute.

You were really gonna be the death of him. 

He was really gonna be the death of you.

How can one man go around looking that hot and literally being naked in front of you while being so sweet and soft and then laughing like that? You could never not laugh when he’s laughing. His laugh is infectious, that was just one of the many things you loved about him. Like the way he always made you feel like the most beautiful person in the room, in the world. The way he was just so dedicated to you, willing to go long distance for a whole six months even though he knew it would be hard on both of you. The way he was still here after all of that. The way he was the perfect mix of sexy and cute at this moment. 

The rest of the shower passed fairly quickly, cute and sweet, with both of you washing each other’s hair and giggling and kissing each other under the water. You smiled and whispered to Mat how hot he looked with his hair all wet and slicked back and he returned the compliment, booping your nose and causing the two of you to fall into yet another fit of giggles. You felt like it was a good reunion after all the time you’d lost- this was closer than you’d been to Mat in all the time you’d been dating. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander as you sat up on the bathroom sink wearing Mat’s hoodie and waiting for Mat to finish brushing his teeth.

Before your trip, your relationship with Mathew was still young, only 4 months in. Sure, plenty of people would have been having sex frequently by that point, but you had been taking it really slow and steady, at first because of your nerves, and then because you could never find the right time. When you first started dating in August, there were still two months left before the season started up, but time flew by too fast and you couldn’t get over your stupid first-time nerves. And then, in the following two months of your relationship after the season started, Mat had been getting busier and busier, so by the time you’d left in December, the most you’d done with Mat was a lot of naked making out and a bit of softcore touching each other. Then you were gone. And now the season was over- it was June. You had missed so much. You missed everything you should have been there for, you missed the moment he found out he was going to the All-Star game and you didn’t even get to watch him win the fastest skater competition or talk to him on FaceTime until days later. And all the holidays. And his birthday for fuck’s sake. 

“Baby?” You looked up at him, wondering how long he’d been trying to get your attention. “You okay? You’ve kinda been staring off into space.” You just shook your head, opening your arms in a silent plea for him to carry you to bed. 

“Let’s cuddle.” He complied with one quick kiss and carried you to his bed, dropping you into the pillows and climbing in next to you in only a pair of gray sweatpants, spooning you like he used to- one arm under your head and one leg thrown over yours and pulling you closer. 

“You’ve gotta tell me everything about your trip. It must have been so cool.”

“No.” The bluntness and change in tone of your statement startled him a bit. Every time he called you during your trip, you seemed overjoyed to be there, no matter how much you missed him.

“What?”

“I mean, I did enjoy it, yeah. But I just…” Mat leaned into you and pushed aside your damp hair to lay a few comforting kisses on your neck before turning you over in his arms so that he could see your face. You gave him a sad smile as you were met with his soft eyes pleading for an answer.

“What’s up?”

“I just feel really bad for enjoying my time there.”

“Why?”

“Because I was away from you.” Before Mat could interject that it was fine because you still got to FaceTime and text while getting the opportunity to do something great, you continued. “Mathew, I missed everything. The whole season. Hockey is literally the biggest part of your life and I wasn’t even there to experience the season with you. I couldn’t be there to comfort you or celebrate with you after games. I didn’t even get to see your All-Star game! I missed all the big, important things that you’re supposed to do with your significant other! Christmas, kissing in Times Square on New Year’s, Valentine’s Day, your birthday. Mat, I’m a really lame excuse for a girlfriend.”

“Baby, don’t-”

“You should really consider getting a new girl-”

“(Y/N), shut up.” You froze, hearing his serious tone come out. He sat up in bed, pulling away from you and looking at you with a look that made you feel ten times worse than you had. “Don’t say another word until I’m done talking. Stop trying to get me to break up with you.”

“But-”

“Hush.” He pointed a finger at you and booped your nose, making you both smile. He leaned down to wipe away the tears you hadn’t even noticed had fallen and took your hand- all tension from the serious talk you were having dissolved immediately. “Seriously. You are more amazing than you give yourself credit for. Remember when you called me on Christmas Eve to congratulate me because you read the All-Star roster as soon as you could? And that long text on Christmas day about how happy you were for me and listing out all the things that you like about me?” His voice dropped to an intimate whisper, eyebrows quirking up. “Remember our call on New Year’s?” You did. He’d called you when it was midnight for you and 5 pm in New York, you celebrated the New Year together and kissed through the screen, and then you called back after sleeping because 7 am for you was midnight for him. You had kissed Mat through the screen at midnight twice. 

“You were there for me. Even when you were thousands of miles away. And I know that around the time the All-Star game was happening, you were really busy, but you still made time to text me as soon as you could get a hold of any type of news about it.” You remembered crying on the night you knew the game was being held, having been in a place with no WiFi and feeling helpless with no easy means of contacting him. You knew he was playing, competing in skill competitions, but you had no idea what was happening. You never liked not knowing what was happening. “Listen, babe, I know you’re upset about enjoying your trip because you think I’m upset about it, but I’m not. I’m actually glad we had to go long distance for a little.”

“You’re glad?” After that whole reassuring speech, you didn’t know what to feel.

“Yeah. First of all, you got to do amazing things, and I’m so overjoyed that you’re gonna get your dream career. And it also gave me time to figure out some… feelings.” 

“What do you mean?” He can’t be breaking up with me. Not after that whole speech. He wouldn’t he wouldn’t he wouldn’t. 

“Answer one question for me first.” He smiled and leaned down to rest his head against your stomach. “Did you fall in love with anybody better than me while you were saving the world out there?” 

“What? Of course not.” 

“Well, I did.” He looked up at you and watched with intense hazel eyes as the gears began turning in your head. The worry turned to confusion, turned to realization and then to joy. “I fell in love with someone," he spoke through a laugh as you lit up with a smile and wiggled around to sit up, "Someone who is so, so much better than me and deserves everything in the world, but they just don’t see it sometimes.” Tears started flowing down your cheeks as you tackled him into a hug and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Me?" 

Mat laughed. "Uh, yeah! Who else?" You hastily wiped the tears off of your cheeks and grabbed his face between your hands, pulling him into you and meeting him halfway to let your feelings do the rest. It felt different from every other kiss you’d ever had. The butterflies that always erupted in your stomach when Mat kissed you were working double now, you felt giddy, excited, as if this was the first and thousandth time you’d kissed him all rolled into one. Your hands curled over his shoulders to thread your fingers through his hair as he pulled you into his lap and broke his lips off of yours for a moment, mumbling into your mouth with a smile. “I love you, (Y/N). I think I have since the beginning.” His hand found yours and he laced your fingers together. His hand was hot, almost clammy as he squeezed yours. “Baby, you make me so nervous, and you know that I don’t get nervous.” He laughed a little bit. You had really changed him, hadn’t you? “You’re just so perfect, and I don’t want to mess anything up with you. And I hope I didn’t mess it up now, but I just- I had to tell you. I love you.” He pulled back with a toothy grin and watched you again with those beautiful, nervous eyes. After a few seconds, he bit his lip in anticipation. “Say something?”  

“Mat...” Your fingers massaged the back of his neck and you dropped your head down to rest on his shoulder, laughing and sobbing. “Mat, Mat, Mat, I love you so much.” 

You could feel him let out a deep sigh and a breathy laugh. “Good. Heh, oh fuck, good. I don’t know what I would’ve done if-” You cut him off with another kiss, smiling and teary. 

“I love you.” You held both of his hands in yours and peppered his chest with little kisses. “I love you.” You laughed, still getting used to the words, and found his eyes again, and the look in them showed you much more than either of you could ever say out loud. You were pretty sure you even saw a few tears. “This is crazy. I never thought I’d have someone like you.” You were sobbing into your kiss, cheeks hurting from smiling too much, too hard, arms wrapped around Mat and pulling him against you.

“Hey, shhh, baby.” Even though he knew you were happy, he didn’t like seeing you crying. He smiled at you again, of course, because if there was one thing he knew about you, you couldn’t not smile with him. “Listen to me. Everything that happened in the last 10 months, whether we were together or apart, good times or hard times, it was all so fucking worth it. I love you.” Fuck, it felt good to be able to tell you that without the unfamiliar pit of anxiety in his stomach.

“It was worth it.” Suddenly, any of the anxiety you had around the idea of having sex with him faded. This man loved you. And, not to mention, the lights of the city that were shining through the window and reflecting on his skin made him look so irresistible. You could feel his heart beating through his chest, pounding against your own. “Mat… I wanna… do it.” You looked up and watched him get the hint, letting out a short laugh at your phrasing.

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I’m ready. I trust you.”

 His lips quirked up into a crooked smirk after a moment. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.” His contagious smile rubbed off on you. It felt so good to finally say it. 

“Good.” Mat caught your lips and untangled his hands from yours and put them on your thighs to guide you onto your back as he laid you out on his bed. “Tell me what you need, babe,” he mumbled against your lips. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” The kiss became more and more heated as his hands trailed up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, burning all the way and pushing at your hoodie. His fingers trailed along the waistband of your underwear for only a moment before they danced up your ribs and squeezed your waist. His mouth fell away from yours and he cast you one heated look before dropping his head and pushing aside the neckline of the hoodie to press wet kisses all along your throat. As he started nibbling at the sensitive skin of your neck, his hot breath hit your ear. “Can I leave a mark?”

“Please.” You didn’t realize how desperate you were becoming, but Mat was just so hot. You felt him breathe out a small laugh at your neediness and begin to lick and nibble and suck on your flesh. The way you were grabbing at his hair, at his back, the way your legs had wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer, just incited him to continue. Your moans were music to his ears and, though he was gonna drag this out nice and slow for you, he could’ve jumped you right there. Leaving a final kiss on the little bruises that were already forming, he leaned back and pulled you up with him so you were both on your knees.

“As cute as you look in my clothes,” he smiled and tugged at the hoodie that was swallowing your form. “Can I take this off?” You nodded, honestly just focused on how good your boyfriend looked kneeling on the bed shirtless, those sweatpants riding so low on his hips, but your silent response wasn’t enough for him. “Use your words, babe.”

“Sorry, I’m just…”

“Virgin nerves, huh?” You laughed. He was using the phrase you had joked about to him seven months ago.

“Yeah.” You bit your lip, looking up at him. “Please take it off.” 

“There we go.” He smiled and pulled you out of his hoodie, tossing it over to the floor and holding both of your hands so you couldn't cover yourself, covering your chest in kisses and nibbles. “Be vocal with me tonight, babe.” His mouth was hot moving across your skin. “I want to know what you like. Don’t hold back any of the noises” You nodded and practically climbed onto him until you were chest to chest, straddling his thigh, and he dipped his head down to suck and nibble on your chest. “Oh, look who's getting confident now.” He smirked as you moved against him softly, just needing to feel any type of friction. He could feel the heat, the moisture, the need radiating off of you and onto his thigh through his sweatpants. God, it was so hot seeing you so needy. “Tell me what you want, babe.”

“Mat, I want you to touch me.” 

“Mhmm.” He laid you back again and palmed at you through the now damp cotton, kissing you one last time before scooting down the bed, kissing your torso the whole way down, and finally bringing his face level with your heat. You propped yourself up with pillows so you could watch him, and immediately he caught your gaze, smirking and sending a whole new shock of pleasure straight to your core. Before you could process what was happening, you were naked and his hot breath was coating you. “Anyone ever done this to you?”

With his eyes on you like that, you could barely choke out a response. “Never.” 

“Fuck. So I’m the only one.” He hooked one of your legs over his shoulders and pulled you closer to his face, kissing the soft flesh of your inner thigh. “You’re gonna love it.” And then his tongue was on you, soft and wet and hot and lapping at you as if he hadn’t eaten in days. 

“Maaat, God…” you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you, and you could feel him smirking against your slick. You were sure your face was bright red, it sure felt like it was, it felt like your whole body was on fire. “Mat…” You could only breathe out his name and twist your hands through his hair and curl your toes as he focused all his attention- lips, tongue, fingers on that one small, special spot, kissing and sucking and nibbling and flicking at you over and over and over and over. You weren’t sure how long he was down there, or how long you had been yanking at his thick hair before you felt a numbing heat flood through your lower body. Holy shit. This is it... “Mat, Mat-!” You choked out his name as your legs shook and tightened around his head and he coaxed you through your orgasm with his mouth. 

“Shit, babe.” He pulled off for a moment and leaned his face against your thigh, mouth wet and shiny. “Didn’t know you're into pulling hair.” Coming down from your high with deep, shaking breaths, you looked down at the dark mess you had left his hair in and removed your hands sheepishly. How hard had you pulled?

“I’m sorry.” Mat laughed, low and deep and rumbling now, and kissed the inside of your still trembling thigh.

“Fuck, don’t apologize for that. That was hot as hell.” He brought his fingers up to dip at your entrance, eagerly putting his mouth right back for round two. You whined at the new sensation of his long fingers inside of you and, being even more sensitive than before, you knew you’d fall apart quicker this time. While one of his hands was busy curling its fingers inside of you, making you writhe and squirm around him, the other reached up and pulled one of your hands from his hair, lacing his fingers through yours and holding your hand through your next orgasm. You were pulling at his hair so hard that you were sure he was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t help it, as the heat began to curl through you for a second time that night. 

Before you could let yourself go, Mathew pulled back and climbed back up your body. “Maaat, please-” 

“I know babe, just trust me here, alright? I need some release too.” His hands fell to his own hips and you took the moment to notice just how obviously hard he had gotten, as the sweatpants didn’t leave much to your imagination. In a quick move, his sweatpants were gone and he was laying on his side facing you and wow, huh, that got a lot bigger than it was earlier. ‘Of course it did, you idiot’, you thought to yourself. Mat brought your hand, encased in his, over to his side, and you sucked in a breath at being that close to him. “You wanna try this?”

“I don’t know how good I’ll be.” 

“I’ll help you.” You could see in his eyes how much he needed you to touch him, and your stomach did a few flips at the thought of how you could make him feel.

“Okay.” You reached out, but Mat stopped you with a smile.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm, but it’ll feel better if there’s some, ah, moisture.” 

“So should I... use my mouth?” He let out a noise that was something between a laugh and a moan, but shit it was hot.

“We’ll try that later. Right now you can just wet your hand.” You brought your hand to your mouth and licked it, feeling Mat’s eyes burn through you, his fingers tracing circles into your thigh. You grazed your hand against him, softly and hesitantly, not knowing how it would feel to him. You curled your fingers around his length, frankly kinda flustered at his size, and it must have felt good, considering the quiet “...fuck.” that escaped his lips.  His hand encased yours, guiding you along as you stroked up and down slowly. Fuck, Mat knew he wouldn’t be able to last long. “C’mon baby, you’re doing so good. Ohhh, fuck.” As you found your own pace tugging on him and pulling little moans and whines out of him, his hand left yours to return to its rightful place between your thighs. 

So you lay there next to each other, stroking and tugging at each other, your hot breath mingling in the air between you, both whimpering and moaning, eyes glued to each other until you were both shaking in anticipation. You rubbed your hand over the blunt, slick head and squeezed and Mat’s whole body jerked into you as he bit his lip to hold back a groan. As hot as it was, you wanted to hear him as much as he wanted to hear you. “What happened to being vocal?” You teased with a shaky voice.

“Fuck, that felt so good.” You continued to focus your attention on the tip, and this time he didn’t hold back the moan. His moans, along with his trembling fingers flicking at your nerves was enough to make you see stars, and your hand stuttered around him as you shook with intensity. “Babe,” You could hear Mat speaking in disbelief through your dizzying orgasm, “You came just at hearing me moan?” 

“It was really hot.” You mumbled against his lips as he pulled you in. 

“Fucking right it was. I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” 

“There isn’t a word for how much I’m enjoying this.” Mat turned onto his other side and pulled a condom from a drawer in his bedside table, before rolling over to kneel in front of you, a stark reminder of what was coming next. “Maybe love. Yeah, that describes this pretty good.”  

“Yeah. Love.” Mat leaned into you and gathered you into his arms, kissing you softly and situating himself between your thighs. “You ready?” 

“I guess.” He noticed your hesitation and laced your fingers back together, resting his forehead against yours and murmuring.

“Tell me what you want.” You waited a few moments, leaning up to kiss him and taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Mathew Barzal, I love you and I want you inside me.” He bit back a smile. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much, okay? I know I’m pretty big.”

You laughed with him at his cockiness, his confidence, and smacked his shoulder lightheartedly. “Okay.” And then you could feel his hand on your hip, positioning you, you could feel him pushing against you, pushing into you, slowly, slowly, filling you up inch by inch, and no matter how uncomfortable it was, the pleasure outweighed the pain. For a little bit. A few inches passed comfortably, and then it started to sting and stretch, as you realized just how tense you had gotten and just how big he actually was. Mat noticed you wince and whimper and froze immediately, eyebrows furrowing in worry. 

“Hurt?”

“Not too much. I- I can handle it.” 

He stayed still for a few more moments. “Ya know, you’re so good to me.” He dropped his head down to your neck, to the bruise he’d left earlier as he began sinking deeper. “So fucking hot, babe. So tight. You feel so good.” He caught your teary gaze, all soft lustful hazel eyes and pouty pink lips, a dark lock of hair falling onto his forehead that made him look so cute. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to steady himself, trying to hold himself back for you. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good.” 

”Tell me when you’re ready.” He was settled all the way inside of you now, his hips flush against your thighs, filling you to the brim in all the best ways possible. The hand that wasn’t tangled with his reached up to push a few strands of hair off his forehead as you just took the moment to look at him, adjusting to the feeling. Then, when you didn’t feel like you were going to tear apart, you slid your hand back into his hair and rolled your hips up into him, earning an immediate wave of pleasure and a groan from Mat.

“Holy shit, Mat.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled, examining your face to see if you were ready to take this final step with him. He mirrored the pace you’d set, rolling down into you in slow, steady waves. “How’s that, babygirl?” 

“Mat.” You wrapped your legs around his hips and met him halfway. After a few moments of rocking back and forth together, you needed more. “Faster.”

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” 

And before you could comprehend anything else, he was rocking against you with long, drawn-out strokes, making sure to pull all the way out of you before snapping his hips back into yours with breathtaking force. With each slap of his skin against yours, you couldn’t help but moan out, whispering his name over and over and over like a prayer, a mantra. His hands left yours to grab one of your thighs, throwing your leg up and over his shoulder and fuck, that angle. He was hitting spots inside of you that nobody had ever touched before, places you didn’t even know could feel so good. You reached up, shaking, and strained to pull his face down to you, kissing him and letting your hands tangle in his hair once more. You felt the heat rise again in your lower body, but really it wasn’t heat- it was a fire, much more intense than your other orgasms of the night. And, calling out his name, you came undone, arching up into him and losing focus of everything around you.

“C’mere, beautiful.” You heard his voice, foggy in the aftermath of easily the most intense orgasm of your life, and felt him sit up cross-legged on the bed, keeping himself rock solid and steady inside of you, sitting on his lap. Your legs trembled as he wrapped them around his waist comfortably, letting you lean into his chest and breath him in as you came down from your high. 

“Woah, Mat.” 

“Good, yeah?” He leaned in to kiss you, brushing your hair away from your face, enjoying the intimacy of this position much more. Now he could hold you, kiss you, let you chose the pace. You nodded, taking deep breaths and trying to focus on how his eyes sparkled with that proud look that you love seeing on him after he got a goal or played a really good game or pulled a really ugly laugh out of you that he would insist was cute. He was cocky as shit, and he was a sex god and he knew it. But it was hard to focus on anything, because wow he’s still hard inside of me. You were getting turned on again, just feeling him sitting inside of you.

“Mat...” 

“I’m not quite done with you yet, don’t fall asleep.” 

“Jesus, how can I fall asleep when you’re still…” You pushed your hips down onto him to make your point, and Mat let out a strangled breath, hands falling to your hips so he could guide you.

“Do that again.” You rocked your hips against him with his helping hands, too spent to do anything more than a gentle sway.

“Baby.” He whined, not doing anything to hold back the need in his voice. “ Keep doing that.” It wasn’t long before he was falling apart beneath you, letting out little swears and groans and whining for more as he locked eyes with you. God, his eyes were so pretty, so deep and swimming with emotion. Nearing his finish, Mat reached down and stroked at you again as you continued to roll against him, wanting to give you one more high before he was spent. After only a few more seconds, you both fell apart, your free hands intertwined with each other again, holding the most intense eye contact you were sure you’d ever have, into a panting, trembling pile against each other. 

He found your lips, panting against you and swallowing your whine as he rolled to the side on the bed with you and slipped out of your arms, leaving you feeling empty without him. “Mat.” 

“Just gimme a second, babe. One second.” He moved to the trashcan next to the bed momentarily, ‘Oh yeah, condom’, before slipping back down beside you and gathering you into his arms. 

“That was more than one second.” He smiled into your hair.

“But I’m back now.” You were lying completely sideways on the bed, but neither of you cared, and you didn’t plan on moving for a while, just wanting to catch your breath and look at one another for a bit. “How was that?” He asked, but you knew that cheeky tone by now. It wasn’t a question. He knew he did good, he just wanted to hear you say it. 

You ran your fingers up his side and around his shoulder, snuggling into his chest, happy to praise him. “It was fucking unreal. I love you, Mathew.” 

“I love you too. You’re so beautiful, so perfect, (Y/N).” 

“So are you.” He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him and not minding the stickiness at all. The two of you would go clean up soon, just… not yet. You lay in silence for a few minutes, just listening to each other’s heartbeats steady back to a normal rate, before Mat reached down and grabbed your hand again, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“I want you to move in here.” 

“Really?” You leaned back to look at him a bit. You weren’t in disbelief, you weren’t even surprised really. You were just so so so happy that you couldn’t believe you were hearing things right.

“I’m tired of being apart from you. I’m tired of having to drive back and forth between our places. It gets lonely without you here.” You leaned up and kissed his cheeks, his nose, his forehead until he was smiling that big toothy grin you loved so much. “So? Move in with me?” But he already knew the answer.

“I think that can be arranged.” And then was on you, hugging you, showering you with kisses and not showing any sign of letting go any time soon. “We sorta already christened the place, though.” Mat full out belly laughed at that, holding you against him so that you could feel the comfortable weight of his laughter rumbling through you like a waterfall. 

“Yeah,” he said, quieting down. “I guess we already did.”

🖤🖤🖤

[redstainedsocks]

First Night

Another prompt for @amonthofwhump‘s escape!week, “first night”. Set immediately after First Mile to Freedom from two days ago. About to make you all real sad with some sock related content, which is only right given my nickname 😎

Warnings: box boy universe, past abuse, early stages of post-trauma, conditioning and unhealthy thought processes, pet whump, dehumanizing thoughts, disassociation, exhaustion, kneeling, scared and confused whumpee, brief mention of a head injury.

Word count: 1.4k

The house they pulled up in wasn’t anything special, not really. One level, set back from the road by a rough lawn, lit windows covered with heavy curtains.

Kit stumbled from the car, one hand clutching the back of Libby’s coat, the other holding his blanket around him like it could offer some kind of protection from what was to come. He had no idea what awaited inside, or what he’d be expected to do once he was in there.

He tugged on her clothes until she stopped, a few feet from the door. “Is this your house, you… you live here?”

“Umm, no, not usually. I live closer to campus, for, well for school, but I am going to stay here with you for a bit. If you want me to, I mean?” She turned a tentative smile to him and his nerves quietened a little.

He nodded. Having her around while he transitioned to whatever kind of ownership awaited him next sounded good, as long as it didn’t put her in harm's way. “I don’t know anyone else.”

It sounded like a secret, like some kind of hidden thing, but it was true. In all the world he really only knew three people; one he hadn’t seen in weeks since an argument, another was led away in handcuffs earlier that day, and she was the last.

“Well that’s about to change, there’s a few people here who are eager to meet you.”

His pulse skyrocketed again and he gulped. Lots of people to please sounded difficult, with too many needs to anticipate he was sure to mess up sooner rather than later. He breathed, in through his nose out through his mouth, short sharp breaths that didn’t help. He gulped and straightened his shoulders, panicking wouldn’t make this any easier. “I’ll do my best to serve them.”

“No, no, don’t think like that. Hey, Kit, easy it’s alright. I know you’re really tired and I’m sorry it’s all happening like this. But listen and please believe me, no-one here will treat you like those people in the store, none of them think pet ownership is good or should even be allowed.”

“Then… then they won’t like me?” He took a halting step backward, eyes darting between the windows of the house.

“They’re gonna love you, they’re just not going to treat you like a pet. They’ll treat you like everyone else.”

She tugged his hand and he followed, but he wasn’t in his body anymore he was floating outside it, numb and cut off from his emotions. It was safer not to feel.

When she ushered him inside it was to a busy house with more people than he knew how to handle. She walked him through a short hallway, and he saw three, then a forth, then a fifth—the driver, John, sitting at a kitchen table nursing a coffee—in mere moments. He stood in the doorway to a small lounge and every pair of eyes in the room turned on him. Two hands waved, three voices said hello, Libby caught his eyes and nodded encouragingly.

He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor.

  ~   ~   ~

It was a blur of faces, of people not touching but urging him to sit up; of being handed water and a little food, and then later left in a bathroom with a washcloth—he gave the shower a wide berth—and soap. He didn’t look in the mirror, not needing a reminder of how awful he looked with the gash on his face and the memories that surfaced every time he dwelled on it.

The socks he’d been handed to wear with his clean clothes gave him pause. He didn’t think he’d ever owned a pair. It felt like luxury, soft and warm and utterly alien. He worried about slipping on the smooth floors and shuffled ungainly down the hallway toward the voices, not taking his eyes off his feet or his hand off the wall.

He was so tired he couldn’t think or see straight but he was ready and willing to serve, if they needed him to. He caught Libby’s voice, more attuned to it than the ones he didn't know.

“Not yet, let’s just… let’s not give him any more to handle tonight? I’ll tell him, it should be me.”

“He’s going to take a while to settle in, but I think we can all manage a few days of sticking with the name he knows.”

There were murmurs of assent and he stopped in his tracks. They wanted to change his name? He supposed that was just one more thing he’d have to get used to.

“Here he is,” said the same quiet, low voice he’d heard respond to Libby. There was a lilt to the accent that he liked, it didn’t sound like anything he’d experienced before.

“I’m ready sir.”

“Just Mateo, calling me Mateo is fine.”

“Oh-okay? Thank you. Umm for the socks, thank you.”

“Oh that was Alf’s idea, he thought you’d probably be without.”

He lifted his eyes and looked around for whoever this ‘Alf” was. Someone was looking at him with a bright smile and he zeroed in on it. “Thank… you? I can do, make up for it, uhh I mean, whatever you want in return I can…”

Libby came up and put her arm around him. “They don’t do that here.”

“Then how do I…?”

“You said thank you, that’s enough, that’s plenty.”

“Libby, do you want to show him where he’s sleeping?” Mateo asked. “We set up a bed in the guys room, it’s a bit cramped but it should be comfortable.”

“Sure thing, I got the couch right?”

“If you don’t mind.” Mateo nodded, and leaned against the doorframe, smiling softly.

“Not at all, probably more comfortable than my dorm room anyway.”

She turned to lead him away and he pulled back, his thoughts moved as slow as molasses but he knew he needed to understand the rules. “Wait, umm please I don’t know w-when I should be up in the morning?”

She shushed him and kept walking. “Whenever you get up is fine, you can sleep as long as you need.”

The room she led him to was large, but filled with three beds all squashed up against the walls it made it seem like a smaller space. She sat him down on a neatly made one that was pressed up against a glass door leading outside; the view through the glass was utterly black and she hastily pulled a blind down, blocking out the nightmarish rectangle of dark space.

“You can sleep here.”

He touched the soft sheets and springy mattress. “On the bed?” He felt suddenly alert, but the moment passed as exhaustion swamped any excitement or thrill of nerves.

“Yes, on the bed. I’ll be down the hall if you need me.”

“Libby I…” he paused, fumbling over his words, his fingers plucking at the sheet.

“You can say anything here, there’s no wrong words.” She settled into a crouch before him and put her hands on his knees.

“I don’t know who’s in charge. Who do I listen to?”

She smiled, a little sad around the edges where it didn’t reach her eyes. “Well… it’s Mateo’s house, but no-one is really in charge, they just all live here. Respect everyone's space and privacy and you’ll fit right in.”

“But who gives me orders? Tells me what to do?”

“For tonight, your only requirement is to sleep and rest. I don’t want to put too much on you at once, but… you, you make the rules now Kit, for yourself. We’ll help you work out what that means, we’ll help you make decisions, but you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

He sat, numbed, the floaty feeling starting again, dragging him away and out where it was safe and his body could function without him. She brushed falling tears from his cheeks and he leaned into her touch, it grounded him, pushing away the sensation that wanted to carry him out of his body.

She laid him down, and let him sob. He whimpered with little breathy cries that he didn’t know why he was making. He was making a bad first impression he knew, but couldn’t stop. He was so tired, so, so tired and his head hurt, and he’d do better tomorrow he promised he would.

He must have mumbled something because she shushed him.

“Sleep, sleep is the only thing you need to do right now. Let go of everything else.”

Without knowing what else he could do, he let himself slip and deep restful sleep took hold before he could question it.

Tag list: 

@haro-whumps, @theycomeinthrees, @whumpthisway, @samanddeaninpanties, @teachunks, @draganies, @pepperonyscience, @whump-it, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog, @untilthepainstarts, @galaxywhump, @kiretto-laorentze, @lonesome--hunter @slaintetowhump @just-a-raccoon-with-wifi​

[halowastaken]

Why I Left (Chapter 10.)

read on ao3

Summary:

“What about his card? You gave him a card when you gave him the internship right?” Pepper asked typing something in her laptop “He converted all of it to cash in the atm in the museum downstairs and then threw it in the recycling bin right next to said atm. At this point this the spider is just making fun of me” Tony said frustrated “It is tuesday. I can go check if he attended to school” Happy said on his phone “Nope. I already did. Been doing it for the whole two weeks we’ve been looking” Pepper said and Tony was honestly shocked that it has been so long. He looks around and there are coffee mugs everywhere, random papers and tablets where they are not supposed to be, every screen in the room had to do with Peter’s search ---

“Kid, how are you doing?” Tony said while working in the suit update

“Good actually. The new webb formula is looking great!” Peter says with a smile while mixing some stuff that Tony didn’t get. He didn’t need to though

“That’s cool Peter. When you are done with that, I need you to fix the code in the Ironman suit that connects it to the arc reactor” Tony is expecting an answer from Peter, but when he doesn’t he turns around to find a really hesitant Peter “What is it?”

“I don’t really know how to code” Peter says stuttering

“You hacked your suit” Tony said confused

“No. I asked my friend to hack it for me. I have cero clue how coding works” Peter says and Tony sighs

“Ok then. You are in for a treat today, because I am gonna teach you how to code. Call it coding 101 with Tony Stark” Peter’s eyes widened and he starts smiling

“That’s awesome Mr. Stark! Thank you so much! I promise I will pay attention to do whatever you teach me perfectly!” Peter said really excited

“I know you will. First thing you need to know about coding is the ‘three u`s’ rule. Undetectable, Unbreakable and Unexpected. Ever since I started coding, these three rules are my secret to always get to what I want” Tony says. Peter raises an eyebrow giving away that he has no idea what Tony is talking about “Ok so, when your friend hacked my suit, I had ho idea that the suit was hacked at first. That’s the first U. Undetectable. Also I am not gonna lie to you, when you gave the suit back I did try to put the training wheels protocol back on, but I couldn’t. Unbreakable. And lastly, you are the last person I think of that would hack a million dollar suit. Unexpected” Peter wanted to argue back about the last point, but he decided not to. “Now, go grab your laptop, cause we are coding today” Tony said and Peter with a smile ran to the other side of the lab to grab his laptop

------

“I’m so sorry it took me so long. The elevator was malfunctioning but I am-” Pepper was looking to her phone while talking, and when she looked up she was...concerned “You are sticked to the floor”

“I am fully aware of that. In Peter’s desk there should be a bottle with the level ‘unsticky spray’. Can you reach it please?” Pepper was confused. She still did what she was told, but that didn’t answer questions. Tony did seem off. Last time she saw him off was right before Germany, but that didn’t last long because Peter started to be part of their lives around that time. But Peter wasn’t there. It was weird considering that she told Tony to not let him out.

“Where is Peter?” She asked. She shouldn’t have asked that. Tony looked like his world was vanishing

“He ran away Pepper” Pepper was confused now but she let Tony talk “Something is going on with that kid Pepper. He’s in trouble. I can just feel it. I need to track him and make sure he is ok” Tony says, really worried. Pepper wanted to argue but instead she just nodded

“What do you need me to do?” Pepper asks and then Tony stands up

“Call Rhodey. Tell him that I need him here and right now. I am finding my kid.

And then he starts. He pulls up the coding in the hologram screen. The kid did really well because at first sight it looked like he did nothing but little did Tony know that was just the beginning of one of the biggest hacks he’s ever seen.

Undetectable

“Tony” It’s been seven hours since Peter left. Tony hasn’t gone out of the lab since Peter left. He refuses to leave until he finds his kid “Tony, Rhodey is gonna be here tomorrow morning”

“Pepper I love you but if you are here to ask me to take a break I hate to break it to you” Tony says without stopping working

“Actually, I am here to tell you that I am going to look for him” Tony raises an eyebrow and turns around to look at her “If he left without being noticed, he would at least use the Spiderman suit. He must be out in the streets somewhere. If not I’ll go to his department to look for him there, I’ll also call his friends to see if they know where he could be, and all of that stuff” Tony was surprised, in fact. His wife never encouraged him to stay all night in the lab “Don’t look at me like that. He is my kid too. You are not the only one that is gonna stay up all night today” Then Pepper left the lab.

Well that was new. Tony was a hundred percent sure Pepper would just tell him to go get some sleep. Tony then just kept trying to break the code. What he didn’t know is that it was gonna take him a while. He tried literally everything that he could think of and none of it worked. He was Tony Stark for god’s sake. Tony fucking Stark was being outsmarted by the same sixteen year old that he spent time with. But he needed to keep trying. For Peter. For his kid.

“You look like you visited hell” Tony then looked over his shoulder and scoffed

“I’ve looked worse” Tony says and Rhodey shakes his head

“So, Pepper mentioned about the spider kid and his aunt but we didn’t really get into the details so I would like to know why am I here?” Rhodey says looking at Tony’s screen

“Peter is in a lot of trouble and I don’t even know where he is. All connections were cut and I’ve been trying to find any kind of connection with him since yesterday but I am losing my mind” Tony says without taking his eyes out of the screen

“Have you tried locating the ip address of his phone or the suit?” Rhodey asks 

“Yup. Also, do you think you can try to find something on Ben Parker? For some reason I have the feeling that he has something to do with all of this. Called him a few days ago and the man was not in a good mood” Tony explains which makes Rhodey doubt about this

“You think that the kid’s uncle killed his aunt or something?” Rhodey asks

“Nah. The police report says that the guy that killed May hasn’t been found, which by the way I also have to look into that guy” Tony says thinking out loud

“So the kid hacked FRI? Is it bad?” Rhodey asks looking at Tony’s screen 

“He knew what he was doing. This is advanced level shit. Almost unbreakable” Tony says remembering the first time he teached Peter how to code. The kid learned every single bit that Tony teached him. 

“Have you tried looking in the news for spiderman? Even the smallest thing could help. Even if it is just some girl posting in her stories a picture of him or something like that” Rhodey said grabbing a tablet

“I already did it but do that again just to see if there is anything new. Just know that if I have to reunite the Avengers to find him, I'll even get Thor to visit midgard” Tony said confidently. He was sure that he was gonna find his kid. Or even better, he was sure that his kid was in danger. That terrified Tony. and fear is the greatest motivator. After a couple hours they called in Happy to go question his friends (“Keep it legal Happy! Can’t handle looking for a kid and a lawsuit at the same time!”). Pepper came back with no luck. But that wouldn't make them give up. They will find out what happened.

---

“What about his card? You gave him a card when you gave him the internship right?” Pepper asked typing something in her laptop

“He converted all of it to cash in the atm in the museum downstairs and then threw it in the recycling bin right next to said atm. At this point this the spider is just making fun of me” Tony said frustrated

“It is tuesday. I can go check if he attended to school” Happy said on his phone

“Nope. I already did. Been doing it for the whole two weeks we’ve been looking” Pepper said and Tony was honestly shocked that it has been so long. He looks around and there are coffee mugs everywhere, random papers and tablets where they are not supposed to be, every screen in the room had to do with Peter’s search

“Well, this can’t be right” Rhodey said out loud, catching everyone’s attention. “The first thing I did was look into mister uncle dearest and got nothing. I left it alone but now I decided to double check and there is an ip address. Ben’s phone” Tony then took a look into Rhodey’s tablet and he was right. He was surprised actually. He could tell that Peter was so precise and careful with all of his personal info, and everyone else that could have a connection with him. He forgot his uncle. 

“This is-” Tony made a pause to think of something to say that properly describes the situation

“Unexpected” FRIDAY said and Tony raised his eyebrow

“Yeah” Tony said and then he started looking into Ben’s phone. He was connected to the same wifi connection as Peter’s laptop and phone. That’s where they had to be. He finally looked into the address. Peter’s department

“That can’t be. Last time I was there, it was empty. No lights or sound” Pepper said and Tony got up his chair

“I am gonna go check this time. Something tells me we got him. Rhodey, you drive. Pepper, stay here in case something happens, and Happy, go get his favorite stuff for when we get back here” Tony said determined. 

He is on his way.

[cowboylikedean]

folklermore spn finale: the last great american dynasty

Okay so this post took forever to write for a couple reasons. 

First of all, this one is special in that it has two readings for my grief.

The first one is terrible and heartbreaking and honestly I don’t want to spend a lot of time on it. I see Andrew Dabb as THE great villain of Supernatural, and he truly had a marvelous time ruining everything. The sarcastic nature of the song goes in to speak to the fact that I feel legitimately crazy for how much I blame him. It’s sad and heartbreaking. I think about it sometimes when i hear this song and instantly force myself to stop thinking about it and go back to the other view. 

So the other view is more what you might expect with the vibe of the song... but it is SO HARD for me to put into words, I found. So I’m sorry if this is messy and disjointed and all over the place. 

I spoke in cardigan’s post about how I’m not the fan the show wanted and there’s a large part of the narrative in the folkermore-spn-finale feelings for me that expresses not being the fan the narrative wanted or needed.... Most of the time this is brought up in this, it’s angry, or sad, or whatever... but this time... this time it celebrates it.

I had a marvelous time ruining everything.

Putting this under a cut because it’s very long. I didn’t mean for this to get this long rip.

I let myself sink into the feelings of wonder and awe I felt when I first fell in love with the show and then let myself find the conclusion that IF I did in fact “ruin everything” (aka the show) by not being the fan the show needed me to be to enjoy it, at least I had a good fucking time!

From that first bit where Taylor sings that Rebekah’s salt box house took her mind of St. Louis.... Supernatural took my mind off my life too. I remember when I first watched the show, I was 20 and I’d just failed out of school (the first time). I was lying to my mother and her husband (who I lived with) about going to school. I rode the city bus at the time because I didn’t have my license yet. I’d leave the house and say I was going to the bus stop down the street. Instead, I hid in the woods that separated my neighborhood from my grandfather’s back yard. I worked at his house “after school” every day from 4-6, taking care of his house, doing light cleaning and cooking, helping him adjust to being a double amputee so it worked out nice. Every night I pre-loaded 5 hours of episodes on my computer so I didn’t need the internet and every day I would sit in the cold on a log and put my computer on a slightly bigger log and curl up in my warm coat for a day of Supernatural before heading inside to Pappou’s house at 4. Sometimes, I just waited until the afternoon when I knew my mom would be gone and I could go home where it was warm and I had wifi. Sometimes though I got wrapped up and I just stayed there.. all day. 

Supernatural is, what I would consider, one of the last great american TV shows. Like... It’s right there with Grey’s Anatomy as the last TV shows that have an actual following where people watch it and it’s a thing that haven’t been corrupted by the streaming world. Television is so important to me, it’s my favorite medium of storytelling and it’s been lost. Streaming destroyed it. People say we’re living in a “golden age” because there’s “so much good TV” but there’s NOT! What we have is high production quality on a lot of mini-series and long-format movies that have been randomly split up into “episodes” but don’t make sense if you space them out in any way. The episodic serial format of television has been LOST and that’s heartbreaking... 

But to me... this song... it’s about The Last Great American TV Show, The Last Great American Fandom, The Last Great American Dynasty over my life, my fandom, my relationship with tv, and my world view. 

The line “How did a middle class divorcee do it?” also just... First of all there’s something so distinctly American about it... We all know Supernatural is itself a sort of lover letter to Americana... it’s the aesthetic of Nowhere USA which is part of what makes it so effective and heartbreaking. The line in the song is about how Rebekah was just... boring, average, a little sad. Someone unremarkable you feel a little pity for. That’s the Nowhere USA of the aesthetic of the show... THAT’S the heartbeat of “Americana.” It’s boring, average, unremarkable, a little sad, you kinda pity it, it shouldn’t be that deep, but it is. It’s when the unremarkable accomplishes the remarkable. And that’s the whole myth they fed us as kids, isn’t it? I could never explain the beauty of this line inside or outside the context of Supernatural to someone who isn’t US American so I’ll just stop trying... but it’s just kljasfkd 

Anyway, the point I’m trying to make here is that first stanza in the first verse... When I fell in love with Supernatural, I was boring unremarkable, a little sad... and the show was a wealth of possibilities... but also I was at a point where I was getting over the main fandom I’d had for the past year and a half (Buffy) and I had just fallen in love with Sherlock and I had nothing but time. I wasn’t bogged down with the anxiety of school, I got to devote my whole life and existence to this show. I was also a wealth of possibilities, and as we know the show was also boring, average, unremarkable, and a little sad. Both me and the show were Bill and both me and the show were Rebekah.

So when the wedding between me and the show was charming, if a little gauche it made sense cause there’s only so far new money goes. For me, this represents 2012-Mishapocalpyse: The Golden Age... Look... It’s no secret 2012 was my favorite year of all time... Tumblr was small and fun and hadn’t been corrupted by wanting or trying to be “cool” or “edgy” or “interesting.” I chose the mishapocalypse for the end of this era to me because that was the last time I felt like I could come on tumblr and really just LET GO into insanity. Almost instantly people were shit talking it as if it was not the single most fun 24 hours this website had ever had. In 2013, we saw the rise of YFIP and people trying so hard to “””prove””” they were “”””cool”””” unlike ~those~ tumblr people!!! It was pathetic. But in 2012, we just... had fun. And it was charming, if a little out there. But there really is only so far that the youthful innocence of an online community that’s new goes. 

But I picked out a home on tumblr. And our parties were tasteful if a little loud. Tumblr in 2012/2013 was..... Fun. From mapcrunch to the mishapocalpyse. Some would argue about taste, but I’d say... “if a little loud.” I really just can’t separate the fun I had on tumblr back then from spn and I can’t separate spn from the fun I had back then. 

But then of course, we all need to settle down some times because the fun doesn’t last forever. In this line, I hear myself in both Bill and Rebekah and I hear the show in both Bill and Rebekah. Both of our hearts gave out and the other way to blame. 

So then the chorus... “who knows if she never showed up what could have been?” I CHANGED because of the show, I don’t know who the hell I’d BE without it! And likewise, I don’t think *I* personally changed the actual show, but the show WAS changed by each one of us. The show itself is folklore, changed and shaped in each retelling. There’s a creative freedom to the chorus that lives in that love.

So then there’s the second verse. After the rose colored glasses came off, Rebekah gave up on the Rhode Island set forever and I gave up on the greater spn fandom forever. I dropped the hellers and joined the tight knit Dean stans. This verse is about living in spite. It’s that wild American rebellion mixed with a little bit of sensual romanticism. In season 9, it was us against the world. And the reality is we were angrier than this verse gives and less free and fun... but looking back, it felt like A Time. I don’t know how to put it into words really but it was like... We found ways (and continue to find ways) to celebrate Dean when we weren’t supposed to. Fuck everyone else Dean is perfect. 

And then in the second verse, we celebrate that rebellion. The change from “the maddest woman” to “the most shameless woman” in the chorus is so important here... In the first chorus, Rebekah and I were mad and crazy and wild. In the second chorus, we had no shame. We lived IN SPITE of the state of the world around us and fucked anyone who had anything to say about it. 

In the first chorus, “who knows if she never showed up what could have been” paired with “maddest” has this creative potential. Like who knows who I would have been without spn and who knows what the show would have been without us, the fandom. And in the second chorus, that line changes to this destructive force. Like the show and I were both shameless to just exist, you know? because we would have been better without each other... but even as it acknowledges that, it’s still... sweet.

So then we have the time I left the fandom. Here we only hear bits and pieces of Rebekah’s life and Rebekah’s time in Holiday House. She was only seen “on occasion.” And on occasion, you could find me reblogging some Dean stan posts, getting into spats with Sam stans, posting about how the writers suck, calling out a heller. But 7 years is a long time and my fandom sat quietly in the history of my blog... And then it was picked up by me. 

Rebekah, in the song, refers to my past. My previous relationship with the show. Taylor’s part refers to my current relationship with the show. 

Who knows if I never showed up what could have been? If I never came back, what would my life look like? It would have been healthier, I’m sure. But then again - I needed this. And if the show hadn’t came back who would I be? 

But there goes the loudest non-woman this fandom has ever seen. I will scream from the ROOFTOPS! and what I want to scream is EVERYTHING from the past but with my full grown adult context. I know now more than I knew then that I had a MARVELOUS TIME ~ruining everything~!!! And I get to CELEBRATE THAT! I get to let go and have fun. I get to sit and think of Nov 5 and how that night, I relived those parties that were tasteful if a little loud. And then every day since I relived flying in the Bitch Pack friends from the city. I get to CELBRATE!

I may not have been the fan the show wanted. I may have fucked shit up. I may have lived in spite of this show even when I lived because of it. But damn I had a marvelous FUCKING TIME Ruining. Everything. Everything this show built it wanted me to see and love and appreciate with these toxic fucking relationships and the destruction of Dean Winchester can KISS MY ASS cause I had a MARVELOUS time fucking that shit up. Everything this show wanted from me that I refused to give it. Every SPEC of growth and learning and fun and enjoyment I have had from this show.... was toxic. It ruined it. Because it was not the growth and learning and fun and enjoyment the show WANTED ME TO HAVE. But damn did I have fun. 

The show and I are the last great American dynasty full of rebellion and spite and damn is it fun. 

[agreateryesterday]

Reylo - ABO fics

An Unexpected Vacation

An Unexpected Date by tigbit

*Finished* 10 chapters, 4 chapters

In which Rey attempts to bolster her bank account by volunteering to fuck an Alpha in a scientific study. Plans go pear-shaped when she accidentally triggers scientist!Ben’s first Rut.

Rey and Ben go on their infamous date.

Terminal Velocity by AQuill2Thrill

(Last updated Feb 22, 2020) 6 chapters

In her final year at the University of Coruscant, Rey Kenobi navigates painful memories of her past while simultaneously fighting to get into the Coruscant Academy of Law. Broken in more ways than one, she finds herself dumbstruck when she receives a letter of dismissal from the Skywalker-Organa Scholarship Program - her one and only ticket into graduate school. Without the necessary funds, her future is completely dead in the water... right? Meanwhile, fast boi Ben Solo - better known as Kylo Ren on the MotoAmerica docket - is competing among world champion racers on dangerous tracks throughout the country. He's got all the wealth and fame he could ask for, so why does he still feel a pang of emptiness as he crosses each finish line like a man possessed?

True Love Waits by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 18 chapters

In Rey's tiny Southern town, courtship for Omegas begins when a woman turns fifteen and ends with mating and marriage on the sixteenth birthday. All of her friends have already settled down, but Rey has a free spirit that isn't so easy to subjugate and control. Ben Solo intends to change that.

The Runner by JaneEyre1847

(Last updated Jan 16, 2020) 18chapters

Rey Niima has a one-in-a-billion secret. If found out, she'll become the target of religious fanatics and political reactionaries the world over. If they catch her, she'll lose everything, including her career, her freedom, perhaps even her mind. So, she pretends to be a normal, if highly unusual Omega, using her unique talents as an endurance athlete and automotive engineer to make a life for herself and craft a meaningful future. Ben Solo is finally, finally free of his past. Still young, still a highly dominant Alpha in an Alpha's world, he has enough money from selling his startup to start a new life in Boulder, Colorado, safe from his mistakes, safe from his family, and safe even from Snoke. All he wants now is to be happy and share his life with the right Omega. It's too bad Ben's past is coming for him. It's too bad his past is coming for Rey.

You Burn First by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 22 chapters

Rey is kidnapped to be a slave for the ruthless Kylo Ren in exchange for the protection of her people. The post-apocalyptic world she lives in is brutal, but he might be worse

Not your omega. by riseofskyloren

*Finished* One Shot

Rey Johnson and Ben Solo cannot stand each others, she's way too joyful and he's just so cynical. They're definitely not mate material, not a chance. But what happened when the person you despise the most in the entire world becomes the one your body's craving?

Pretty Little Thing by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 3 chapters

Rey is forcibly claimed by Kylo Ren. Though the pairing isn't complete, he pulls to her while he's in prison for his crime, and she struggles to ignore her instinct to go to him.

Kitty Cat by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 2 chapters

Rey accepts a ride from a polite Alpha, Ben. He's a perfect gentleman. For now.

Premature by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 5 chapters

Ben is Rey's awkward IT neighbor. She gives him a little bonus for helping fix her Wifi, and his obsession deepens, and he wants to prove he isn't some weirdo.

Bentacles by MalevolentReverie (creature fic *technically no ABO)

*Finished* One Shot

Kylo was kidnapped by humans and turned into a display piece at an aquarium. He meets a kind new girl, Rey, and decides she'll make the perfect mate.

Heat Wave by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 2 chapters

Ben's next door neighbor Rey gets a little too hot. Her heat comes and he'll help her, even if she doesn't want him to.

Yellowstone by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* One Shot

Rey goes on a survival trip with her friends, but they get sick, and the friendly ranger doesn't have her best interests in mind.

Happy Birthday, Rey by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* One Shot

Every year, Rey receives a letter from a stranger. Every year, they get weirder.

Birthday Lick by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* One Shot

Rey decides to finally cut loose on her sixteenth birthday. She sneaks into a club and meets Ben Solo, who's charming, funny, and takes whatever he wants.

Fledgling by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* One Shot

Rey runs away from home and takes a break at a very dangerous rest stop.

derangeD by MalevolentReverie (child like Rey)

*Finished* One Shot

Next-door neighbor Ben is really nice. He used to babysit Rey and gave her a weird bite on the nape of her neck. If he needs help, she's happy to provide it.

Burnt Coffee by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 3 chapters

Ben 'accidentally' forgets to pick up his sister's suppressants. He gets what he wants in her empty coffee shop.

Halcion Days by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 3 chapters

Ben has never seen anything hotter than his unconscious stepsister.

Stay Still by MalevolentReverie (beta Rey)

*Finished* One Shot

Beta Rey babysits her Alpha neighbor Ben's nephew. One night he comes home drunk and aggressive and Rey can't escape.

WENDIGO by MalevolentReverie (creature fic *technically no ABO)

*Finished* 2 chapters

Rey is saved from a wolf attack by a mysterious stranger. He wants more than she’s willing to give, but he’s going to take it anyway.

Fine. Little. Pieces. by MalevolentReverie

*Finished* 3 chapters

Ben loves his mate and his pup very much—and they better love him back.

As Above, So Below by MalevolentReverie (creature fic *technically no ABO)

(Last updated May 9, 2020) 1 chapter

Rey goes on a spelunking trip in North Carolina with her friends. She quickly gets lost and is stalked by a strange, inhuman creature.

Reclaimed by betts

*Finished* One Shot

After the passing of new legislation, Rey and thousands of other omegas are rescued from the abusive grasps of their alphas. She gets adopted by a new alpha and braces herself for the cruelty she’s grown used to. But Ben isn’t like other alphas, and Rey slowly warms to his kindness.

He's Just Not That Into You(r) Scent by SaintHeretical

*Finished* 4 chapters

Rey is a young and single Omega who hasn't had a lot of luck so far finding a nice Beta guy who isn't a total flake. They say they've had a great time with her, but seem to have a difficult time with calling her back. Ben is an Alpha bartender who is tired of hearing about her dating difficulties, and is ready to drop some truth bombs.

A Myth of Devotion by KiraStar

(Last updated Jan 9, 2020) 1 chapter

Rey shouldn't have gone out drinking that night. Ben shouldn't have claimed a 16 year old girl.

all things bright and beautiful by freewalrus

*Finished* One Shot

Rey looks down at the little blue and white stick clutched in her sweaty palm and feels like her stomach is about to fall out of her ass. There, in the tiny gray window, are two seemingly harmless black lines. Two. She blinks rapidly, trying to clear whatever fog has obscured her vision and made her think she is currently holding a positive pregnancy test. She's not pregnant. She can't be pregnant. She just can't be. Because if she is, her mate will leave her. Ben will leave her.

Alpha by PrinceofDarkness15

(Last updated Jan 4, 2020) 2 chapters

"You're walking a very dangerous line here, Kenobi." Ben growled, exposing a row of razor sharp canines. "I wouldn't try it again."

The Claiming Party by SithLord98

(Last updated Feb 16, 2020) 12 chapters

No summary available.

A Wolf At the Door by KiraStar

(Last updated Dec 29, 2019) 4 chapters

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ all alone on a Friday night?” Rey meets an older boy at the drive-in.

Let it Linger by CaptainCabinets

(Last updated May 26, 2020) 3 chapters

Ben Solo and Rey Jones have history. One that they were both hoping to forget. But their past becomes increasingly hard to ignore when Rey starts attending Ben's prestigious boarding school. - Or - Ben is an Alpha. Rey is an Omega. And they forget how to function like normal human beings when they are around each other.

My Heat Will Go On by SpaceWaffleHouseTM

*Finished* 14 chapters

Lucky Omega Rey wins a third class ticket to America on the Titanic. Rich, miserable Alpha Ben holds a first class ticket to a life he doesn’t want. Another tale as old as time unfolds, but this time with... heat.

(Can't Stand) The Heat

Stay Out Of My Kitchen! by SwanSongremix

*Finished* One Shots

She would feel terrible if she asked him to come home early. Wasting all of her alpha’s hard work. He had always been so accommodating of her hectic schedule as an emergency room nurse, it would be unfair to not reciprocate. Besides, she had gone through plenty of heats on her own before meeting Ben. What was one more? In which omega Rey doesn't call her mate, and Ben is a disaster child.

“Seriously, though, how am I supposed to hide this?” Ben asked, following his friend to the front door, waving his covered hands. “I don’t know! Get creative!” And with that, Poe made a hasty retreat outside. Ben stared at the closed door in disbelief. “Fuck my life.” In which Poe is not allowed in kitchens, and Ben is still a disaster child.

Imprints by KyloTrashForever

*Finished* 23 chapters

“I was happy you’ll be working with someone you know. He’ll take good care of you.” Take good care of you. The words send a shiver down her spine, sparking memories that flood her with embarrassment. She feels a strange itch just below her ear, her gland giving a phantom pulse as if her body remembers the incident even still. Suddenly her triumph fades into dread, the idea of working here leaving a hollow pit in her stomach. Poe is still talking, but she doesn’t hear most of it. Her mind is firmly trapped in the vivid memories of six years ago— in a moment she wishes she could forget. By the time she hangs up the phone— she isn’t sure anymore if she can do this.

First Order University by Water_Fox (KnightSiren)

(Last updated April 6, 2020) 3 chapters

A young beta named Rey Kenobi can't believe her luck when she gets miraculously admitted to First Order University, the largest and most prestigious university on Coruscant. She has big plans for her engineering degree and has no problem sticking up for herself in a pool of hormonal alphas. But, when she crosses paths with a strange Alpha named Kylo Ren and unexpectedly finds herself soaking wet and falling at his feet... those plans are threatened to be thrown out the window.

welcome to my cage, little lover by KyloTrashForever

*Finished* 8 chapters

“Come here, Beta.” Every step is difficult— as if her legs are made of stone themselves. He motions that she sit behind him, and she remains there on her knees for several seconds as she wonders what he might want. “Your hands. Use them.” In which Rey is brought to the house of the infamous warlord, Kylo Ren, to serve his every need. Omegas are not allowed. Surely nothing will go wrong.

And They Were Roommates by KyloTrashForever

*Finished* 13 chapters

“This isn’t going to work.” He points a finger between the two of them. “This arrangement.” Her eyes narrow. “You didn’t put any specifications on who could apply.” “Yeah…” He rubs the back of his neck then, the action making it look longer, making her wonder what it might feel like under her fingers. “You have to know that this isn’t a good idea.” She knows what he means, she does—but she’s so tired of being brushed aside for her designation that she challenges him anyway. “And why not?” His eyes bore into hers, his expression blank as he says, “Because I can tell how much scent-block you put on—and I can still smell you.” In which Rey’s new roommate turns out to be a lot more than she bargained for.

The mortifying ordeal of being known (and the reward of being loved) by vuas

(Last updated May 13, 2020) 9 chapters

The omega in apartment 7b was going to pose a problem.

Knot My First Time by KyloTrashForever

*Finished* 5 chapters

“Who can tell me the purpose of knotting?” Holy fuck, are you kidding. His face is going to catch on fire. The teacher still scans the room, looking for a victim of her mortifying question until her eyes finally settle somewhere behind Ben. “Ah, yes. Ms. Johnson?” “Originally, to ensure conception.” Ben sneaks a glance behind him, finding her every bit as distracting as he always does. Rey Johnson. The girl who moved here just three months ago. The girl who seems to excel at everything she does. The girl he can’t get off his mind. The girl he’s heard so much about. In which Ben’s Alpha instincts have always been there, and now they’re awake.

Don't talk to strangers by P_Dunton

(Last updated March 3, 2020) 9 chapters

“Don’t talk to strangers, don’t leave the path and walk straight to Grandmother’s house.” The village of Jakku has a dark and terrible secret. An unknown evil lurks in the nearby forest and will only be satisfied with an annual offering of a local virgin. Nobody knows where the mysterious messenger comes from every year. Once a year, a masked person appears out of the forest and selects the virgin to be offered to the forest. Poor little orphan Rey, is wrapped in the ceremonial red cloak and escorted by the whole village to the edge of town. In a hundred years, none have ever returned. Will Rey be eaten by the Big, Bad Wolf, or does she have a few tricks up her sleeve?

Let’s Get Together by KyloTrashForever, ohwise1ne

(Last updated Jan 15, 2020) 6 chapters

“You didn’t tell me,” he murmurs quietly, careful that someone won’t overhear. “That you were a counselor.” “Neither did you.” “I told you it was my job to keep disobedient boys and girls from causing trouble.” “Why, sir.” She directs a sly look at him through her lashes. “Do I look like the sort who would cause trouble?” “You look like you’d never stop. But don’t worry.” He lowers his mouth right beside her ear. “I'd know exactly how to make you behave.” When Ben is roped into a job at his mother’s alpha/omega summer camp, he expects to have an uneventful month full of bad knot jokes and teenage hormones — until a counselor from the Omega side of camp turns his whole summer upside down.

Foresight by Aerographer

(Last updated April 6, 2020) 3 chapters

This Hunt would not be Rey’s first. She was 21 now, and had been in them since her 18th year. She’d never had a reactive heat. Never been reduced to a whining shell because of a scrap of fabric. She was one of the lucky ones.

Garbage girl and the Prince: an A/B/O fairytale by Hosnianprime, Trueffle123

*Finished* 19 chapters

Rey is a nobody and an Omega, who is known as “the garbage girl” in the small town of Chandrilla because as an orphan she was caught eating discarded food. Ben Solo used to be “the Prince” of Chandrilla, the heir to the influential politician Organa and businessman Han Solo. So even if Rey and Ben grew up in the same town, their lives couldn’t be more different…After Ben Solo graduated, he decided to leave home and cut almost all ties with his parents. One day, however, Leia (fed up with her son wasting his life involving himself with dodgy businesses such as financial investments for the First Order Syndicate) comes up with a cunning plan: Ben Solo needs to return home for an arranged mating if he doesn’t want to risk disinhersion.

a little death (goes a long way) by crossingwinter

*Finished* 7 chapters

“That’s good of you,” he replies. “Especially with the O-Negative.” “It’s a good deal,” she says and he glances up. Yeah, because Omega blood is harder to find. A taste of life, because they almost never survive the turn.

Down South

Outrun Me by Spencebox

*Finished* One Shots

Omegas were on the brink of Extinction, and staying in Jakku was a a death sentence. But luckily for Rey... “Please Rey, Armitage and his family live down here and they’re perfectly normal. Do you remember Ben Solo? He lives down here too! His mom Leia kind of runs a few of the businesses here and is pretty cool. And Ben even turned out to be an Alpha; he’s totally not like the ones in Jakku. I talk about you sometimes and he seems to remember you. If you have the chance, stop by and we can catch up!” Rey saw no harm in driving down to the Deep South to Coruscant to stay with Rose for a couple of days. Besides, how bad could it be?

There was no going back now—not like this. Rey was running with nowhere to go and nowhere to hide; Unkar Plutt had sold her off ages ago and had kept her locked away since. But this full moon, she ran .

To Resist by Sweetnlow444

(Last updated April 26, 2020) 2 chapters

“I'm in a relationship, I'm in love, I'm happy.” He kept telling himself this, hoping it would help. It didn't. It did nothing. Couldn't do anything in the face of that fucking smell, that intoxicating, mouth-watering, life-altering smell. Rey. He knew who it came from now and it made it all worse.

Desert Concubine by IkonQueen

(Last updated March 1, 2020) 1 chapter

Emperor Kylo Ren has sent out a galaxy wide announcement that he will handsomely reward those who bring him artifacts from the First Empire; Rey, a scavenger from the desert planet of Jakku, finds something even more priceless, though she doesn't know it. When she is brought before the emperor, her life will change forever.

The Perfect Life by Sweetaro

(Last updated Feb 1, 2020) 1 chapter

All any alpha ever wants is to come home to an omega cooking dinner and ready to be knotted. In the case of Ben Solo, that’s exactly what he has, and he couldn’t be happier. Although from the beginning, he has to teach her. But that's fine, he's going to make sure she's the perfect omega too.

You Should See Me in a Crown by 3todream3

(Last updated April 5, 2020) 9 chapters

“I’m leaving,” she blurted out. “Leaving? What do you mean?” He rubbed his jaw with his hand, trying to wake up. “When will you be back?” “You’re not getting it, Finn. I’m leaving.” She inhaled the familiar scent of the stable, wishing what she was saying wasn’t true. “I’m leaving...for good.” Rey watched as her best friend’s shoulders drew back, straightening his spine as he did. A bitter reality was sinking in before the rooster had even crowed. Finn was her protector, her keeper, her friend. If she left him, she would be lost in the world. “You can’t...you need to stay here!” he blurted out as the words Rey spoke finally woke him up. “The princess has been betrothed, and I am to go with her to her new home.” A sob escaped from deep within. “I can’t let them find out about me!”~o~ Rey, a handmaiden to Princess Bazine, has a secret she must keep at all costs, but her life is put in danger when she must leave her only home. Rey must accompany the princess, who is set to marry the infamous King Ren. Can she keep her secret and also keep her loyalty to her princess? Or will an Alpha make it all go to hell?

Tied to you by I_am_the_trash_queen9478

(Last updated Feb 1, 2020) 11 chapters

For months, since he combed through her mind on Starkiller, they had felt a strange pull towards one another. Fighting it only made the bond stronger; in a moment of frustration, Rey and Kylo decide to give it what it wants and allow themselves to be pulled together. They only wanted to find out how to control it, now everything has changed and they don't know how much longer they can keep fighting this feeling, this heat, between them. What could possibly go wrong when the Alpha Ben Solo and newly changed Omega Rey are tied together, in more ways than one?

Bloodmoon by AlexandrinaRen

(Last updated Feb 28, 2020) 4 chapters

Rey has always tried to stay as far away from pack business as possible, living her life as normally as humanly possible for an Omega and a Werewolf. But when a new Alpha comes in to town and challenges the leader of her pack, even she has to attend the Summit where the Alpha rite is about to be held.

That Fragile Scarlet Tree by Lula_Landry

*Finished* 11 chapters

Rey is asked by her boss Ben Solo to join his inner circle at First Order International, putting her brilliant mind to good use. The biggest problem? Rey is an Omega in hiding, living in a world where her kind have become nearly extinct, while Ben is an Alpha amongst Alphas, triggering her biological responses in ways she's never had to deal with before.

I'll Kill The Traitor, But I Will Save My Omega. by ClaireLou

*Finished* 7 chapters

Poe arrives at Bens house to inform him that his boyfriend is missing, not only that but he has taken the Omega. Unfortunately for Finn, The Omega is Bens wife, his soulmate and his forever. Ben will kill Finn himself. But first he needs to get the pack together and get back his Mate.

Say Yes to the Nest by writing2savelives

*Finished* One Shot

“Rey―?” She cuts him off with a whimper, stepping closer. “Please.” “No,” he growls. “You have to use your words. You have to say yes. Say ‘Yes, I want you’. Say it. Please.” Her pupils are dilating again rapidly. She sinks to her knees in front of him, the ultimate display of submission and his Alpha preens. “Yes Ben. I want you. Please Alpha.” Rey's heat is triggered after she must stay at Ben's apartment, prompting her to build a nest of his clothes. This is how Ben finds her.

A Rose For My Love by Spencebox

(Last updated May 12, 2020) 1 chapter

Poor Omega Rey and Rich Alpha Ben are newly dating and though Rey wants to take things slow, Ben has every intention of locking it down. There is a hesitancy in her- he's a decade older, has more money than she could count, is an Alpha that truly emits every stereotype she's ever know, and is ready for everything from mating to having babies. She wants to take things slow but he's in the fast lane. What's an Omega to do?

Keep the Car Running by CaptainCabinets

*Finished* 7 chapters

Someone new joins the carpool. Rey is not happy about it. (Until she is).

Your Sweetness by EyesSoQuiet

(Last updated April 23, 2020) 2 chapters

Kylo is in the middle of a rut when he finds his omega.

Ms. Independent by Athelise

*Finished* One Shot

Rey goes back into heat and begins to miss the one Alpha she trusted to see her through them. If only he hadn't called her a "charity case" she might actually be tempted to ask.

The Courtship of a Southern Belle by Lapinrose

(Last updated May 20, 2020) 7 chapters

In 1860 New Orleans, Louisiana, Rey Josephine Camille is a young girl about to enter womanhood. Her year-long secret courtship with popular alpha Poe Dameron has not been fruitful: he has not proposed nor has he asked to be her escort at the debutante ball! Before she turns 16, she must get engaged or become an outcast in New Orleans high-society but she does not want to marry someone she does not love. That's when she meets aloof alpha and eligible bachelor Benjamin Solo Augustus.

In Plain Sight by LBellicose

*Finished* 23 chapters

Rey never thought she would ever be lucky enough to go to college, much less win a scholarship to the prestigious University of Naboo. Rey meets Rose, before long she is part of the Resistance, a group of liked mind individuals working to solve the mystery of missing Omegas. Everything points to the First Order health. Rey goes undercover suppressed and poising as a Beta to find out what they are doing with the Omegas. She thinks she has it all under control until she meets the First Order's head of security Kylo Ren who has taken an interest in the newest lab tech.

Winter Flower by MelancholyBrilliance

(Last updated April 17, 2020) 2 chapters

"That’s my number,” he informs her, pinning her with his gaze. “Do not leave this hospital until you call me, Omega.” The command comes from somewhere deep inside of him, a place that usually lies doormat despite barking orders to medical personnel every day. It has an immediate effect on Rey, whose pupils visibly widen as she stares at him, enraptured. She nods, and it’s clear that she’s not entirely in control of herself, and maybe Ben should feel guilty about how satisfying it all is, but he releases a pleased rumble from his chest instead. When Rey’s scent spikes in response, he practically runs out of the room, trembling all over. (ABO/Modern AU in which Rey is essentially a homeless youth, and Ben is a doctor who just wishes he didn’t have to feel so guilty about helping her.)

Vertigo Theory by GlassSolomon

(Last updated March 20, 2020) 2 chapters

Rey has just begun the semester as a Biology student and already she is stretched thin. Being faced with the setbacks that come with being an Omega on top of everything else that comes with attending school she must take on an enormous course load and a job on the side to stay afloat through school. It's most certainly not sustainable. Professor Solo, her Anatomy professor soon takes notice of the young Omega in his course and despite strict Faculty Student Relations rules at the University he cannot take his eyes off of her.

Desolate by lhlsy

(Last updated May 12, 2020) 13 chapters

“I don’t care what her reason for sending you over here is,” he huffs out an annoyed breath, “I’m not interested.” At that her stance changes, she straightens up, almost puffing her chest out, her eyes regard him with a sort of intensity he has never seen an Omega exude before, “Mr. Solo, I’m a police officer,” she starts, her tone now laced with annoyance, and even a hint of anger, “I merely came over to introduce myself since I’m tasked with your security.” He smirks, a small snicker escaping his lips. He can’t help it. He really can’t. It’s just so extremely laughable that the young woman in front him is supposed to be his security. Not that she’s really there to protect him, like she seems to think. The police are only there to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid, like try to take off his ankle bracelet and skip town.

Pheromatch by pinkhairedhoe

*Finished* 3 chapters

Ben doesn't like to think of himself as a desperate man, but with little free time, a secret desire for a relationship, and pressure from his well-meaning mother to settle down, he turns to Pheromatch, a dating service for alphas and omegas. Rey Niima, an omega grad student who keeps crushing on betas, thinks using a dating service is a cop out. She sincerely doesn't think she'll find anyone. Except one of the alphas kind of smells incredible.

Howl Of The Pack by LadyErica

(Last updated April 14, 2020) 19 chapters

 Rey doesn't do howling and giving in to her wolf. Until she is called to the ritual of pack master. She is one of many Omegas in the pack that is unmated. The pack master is getting old and it is time for a new pack master. Rey watches the challenge in her pack and doesn't like appreciating in old brutal rituals of her pack. Thus why she doesn't give in to her wolf. A wolf she hadn't turn into in a long time since she presented as a Omega. Then the new pack master chooses a mate. That mate is her.

Baby Steps by Athelise

*Finished* One Shot

Rey is an Omega who has never been in heat and fears Alphas and their knots. But with her admission to Naboo University Rey gets a new lease on life with their Omega-inclusive policies and some of the best suppressors in the country to hide her from the eyes of Alphas. Not only that, but her burgeoning friendship with the adorkable Beta, Ben Solo, may just be the best thing to ever happen to her.

love the way you wear that black on black (take it off like that) by galactic_enterprise

(Last updated May 8, 2020) 1 chapter

“You're mine, Alpha. No one else can ever have you.” She placed his belongings at the head of her den, making Ben swell with pride. “Of course, Omega, and you are mine. Such a good little thing. So hard-working and slick, so ready and beautiful for her Alpha. Do you want me, little one? Do you want me to fill you with my knot and coat you with my cum? To put my pups in that little belly of yours?”- or - Kylo Ren wakes up to Rey trying to nest using his things.

Rey's Anatomy by lovelyjades

(Last updated April 11, 2020) 1 chapter

Freshly graduated Rey Kenobi was thrilled to have been accepted into an internship at the esteemed Skywalker-Organa Hospital in Seattle, and everything was going perfectly fine until she met her neurosurgeon supervisor, Doctor Ben Solo, an arrogant alpha who just so happened to be the best smelling man she'd ever met.

But I Do by Spencebox

(Last updated May 19, 2020) 7 chapters

Rey Kenobi couldn't believe it; she was definitely, totally, and without a doubt, shocked. Ben Solo- Alpha, looked like he belonged on the front of a magazine, not pictured as the profile for the Alpha she'd been matched with. Ben Solo was totally, definitely, and without a doubt, out of her league. But that doesn’t mean his name didn’t leave her lips when she fingered herself that night.

Knot Sure by coldmoonviolet

*Finished* 16 chapters

Omega Rey is excited to be finishing up her degree but after a night out with friends ends in the most embarrassing one night stand Rey could have imagined, she's horrified to discover the Alpha in question is her Professor.

Wanderlust by inexorablydrawn

(Last updated May 5, 2020) 8 chapters

Rey had spent her whole life pretending to be something she wasn't. She had hoped to live a perfectly average life without influence by her designation. But when fate calls to her, pulling her out of her city comforts, she finds out that accepting who she is might be far easier than being alone when Ben Solo finds her wandering aimlessly in the expanses of nature.

graceless hearts by darthdarcyy

(Last updated May 5, 2020) 10 chapters 

Rey Niima, independent Omega and millennial college graduate trying not to starve during a recession, takes a desperate job at a tech support call center. One slow Saturday evening, she watches as a tall, beautiful Alpha moves into the luxury loft apartment building next door. To the apartment directly across from her window. The rest, as they say, is history. you smell like every good memory i've ever had. (previously certain things happen in the dark)

Baggage

in the back with the racks and the stacks of your load by praetorreyna

(Last updated May 29, 2020) (Last updated Feb 10, 2020) 11, 2 chapters

Rey is a senior in college, and ready to graduate the top of her class. Enter Ben Solo, her new literature professor who happens to be an alpha. An alpha that also happens to smell irresistible. Her mind is telling her to keep pushing forward, but her hormones are saying the complete opposite. She just needs to make it through the year with out consequence. That shouldn't be too hard, right?

vignettes for Baggage

the threat is real

when his sight goes red again by 11minutes (redlondons)

*Finished* (last updated May 8, 2020) 7 chapters, 1 chapter

Kylo Ren is sick of going through his ruts alone. Rey is sick of going through her heats alone. A dystopian soulmates au with a happy ending.

Our Royal family is trying to get back into the swing of being together. Padme is being the grandmother she was always supposed to be to Ben. Rey has a secret that will cause havoc in the kingdom. And what happens when the Legacy Saber is stolen and Ben shows the depths of his dark side powers? Alderaan is in a state of revolt, Rey and Ben have a lot of work to do!

Lost & Sold by MalevolentReverie

(Last updated May 18, 2020) 11 chapters

Rey is ten days from her work visa expiring. Her boss, Leia, happens to have a single son who’s more than happy to help.

On The Brightside by Spencebox

*Finished* 3 chapters

On the bright side, he had a nice house.

The Ecumene by P_Dunton

(Last updated May 26, 2020) 35 chapters

The Ecumene (or oecumene): the permanently inhabited portion of the Earth as distinguished from the uninhabited or temporarily inhabited area. In the world where Alphas are meant to rule, Kylo Ren is aiming to wipe the Omegas off the face of the Earth. In the world where Omegas are meant to serve, Rey Johnson has suddenly discovered her true designation.

Good little omega by kylosbrickhousebody

*Finished* One Shot

Only a month ago, Rey found herself trapped in her worst nightmare: presenting as an omega and bonding with a strange, older alpha. Trapped under his care by law, Rey finds herself running from the alpha at every turn. Ben tries to convince her otherwise.

Post: Part 2

[finsterhund]

Power turned back on at almost 11PM. But I didn't get internet until (when I post this) because roommate fucking refused to properly fix the goddamn router. There's a fucking error that the WAN cable isn't plugged in right. Just fucking fix the damn thing. I'm so mad. If I wasn't making less than minimum wage I'd fucking buy my own router that wouldn't be stuck in his fucking bedroom.

The internet is my only escape from this fucking shithole. Jesus christ.

All this on top of the stupid parasitic shithead landlords I just want to fucking kill them. Make them fucking pay. The world would be better if they were strung up and disemboweled.

I can't fucking take anymore of this.

I only moved to this fucking house because you made me.

"This was the only place" WRONG. You wanted a place that had a bedroom to your specifications and fuck all. As long as they let you have your rabbit you didn't give a single fuck about me getting my service dog when you forced me to move to this place.

That's how it's always been. My needs a fucking afterthought.

Well I'm fucking sick of it. Seems like you only ever voluntarily spend time with me by your own choice when something like this is just about to happen too.

Take me to a fancier place to get food to feel better but I pay for it

I want to fucking die. I want to kill but I can't even kill myself. Today it feels like I fucking twisted my intestines I'm so fucking sick and stressed and mad.

Fuck government fuck borders fuck countries and fuck landlords. We should be able to live wherever the fuck we want. That's how it's supposed to be. Walk someplace new, there's herds here, bam, this is where our troop lives now.

But noooooooo.

Fuck this shit world.

Every time the power goes out it takes five fucking years off my life too. Can't handle this shit anymore. For some reason all the fucking commercial areas of the city still had power but our shitty slummy complex didn't. Huh. Fucking wild that.

3PM the next day update. I know he's awake. I can hear him. The router is still fucking off. Can't even see it now. I am infuriated

He is deliberately cutting me off from my support network at this point.

He has data so he can just access the internet just fine.

I chip in for the cost of the internet by the way. It's not like I'm leeching off his. It's mine too and he just has full access and control over the router because of where it is in the house.

I am so fucking pissed off. Other than the fact that she doesn't respect me and doesn't see me as a human being and all that, living with my mom almost seems possible. Regular access to food, puppy dog who's big enough to actually perform the tasks I'd need them to, just puppy dog in general.

If I don't get internet by 5PM at the latest I am going to (verbally) rip everyone to pieces.

I just want to talk to my friends. I need my support network. I really need people right now. I can't stand it I am in total isolation with nothing. I just want to die. There's no other exit from this. Everything else has been taken from me.

I've physically selfharmed for what is probably the first time in 5 years. An achievement I used to be proud of. But I just couldn't stand not doing it. I did it after I took my meds before going to sleep last night. It wasn't much but it was still doing it. Just fucking cried myself to sleep after that. Listening to music trying to just go anywhere else but here.

I still want to kill. I am still enraged. I want my roommate to fucking understand how much I am in pain. Sick of his flaky inconsistent support.

These cunts could care less the pain I'm in.

Wish more than anything that I could just fucking leave. But I can't leave. And there's nowhere else to go.

All there's left to do is try to sleep

Pretend to sleep

It is now 6PM.

Still no internet.

I'm too much of a coward to confront.

I've just been hiding in my room. Enraged but too scared to do anything about it.

I miss my friends.

I miss my stupid little tasks.

I miss my audio books.

I can hear them both making a fucking racket. Shut the fuck up.

7PM ex roommate tells me that apparently the moden was fried. How the fuck do you

And then it hits me.

My roommate this entire fucking time hasn't had it plugged into his surge protector.

I swear to fucking god.

I am in total isolation at my lowest point trying to argue with myself not to run out in front of traffic and it's because nobody in this fucking house except for me does anything fucking right.

If it'd been in my room it would have been plugged into one of my three surge protectors

Power outages aren't even rare here. What the FUCK

WHAT THE FUCK

WHO FUCKING

There's nothing else to do.

Tried to post on mcdonald's wifi again. Phone died for no reason.

Roommate attacked me (words not physical.) And I'm harming again more worse

If I die though it's an axcident I'm not trying to die.

Roommate put on phone wifi data thing only have time to post this.

Won't be able to make it to TTRPG

Sorry

[whumpster-fire]

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi posted this awesome prompt about slicing a merfolk’s finger webbing, which inspired me to do this. I’m crediting by link-back instead of reblogging because this is technically minor whump and I don’t know whether you’re comfortable with, like, having that as a direct reply to your post or what the best etiquette for crediting inspiration is. I apologize if I’m doing this wrong!

Anyway, I’ve been on a dragon kick lately so I wrote about dragons instead of mers.

Dragon Fun Fact: If a dragon’s wings look like this, it won’t be able to fly!

It would be simply awful if some person or persons were to do this to a dragon. It would be a shame. I cannot endorse mutilating a sapient being in such a cruel and inhumane way. Especially not if it’s just a little wyrmling. Sure, it’s a powerful, dangerous, intelligent creature, not like a defenseless human child, but it’s still the equivalent of a child, and it would be wrong to -

Wait... did you say it’s a chromatic dragon?

Oh. My mistake. Never mind, it’s fine, the little bastard deserves it. That’s what it gets for stealing sheep, and robbing travelers, and starting that forest fire that ended up spreading and destroying people’s homes and livelihoods. The one survivor of the last party of militiamen that went up into the mountains to try to stop it said after they wounded it it burned the whole forest around them out of sheer spite. Even cut off their escape routes, trapped them downwind of the flames. Dragons are spiteful, ruthless, vicious. The damned thing even enslaved that entire goblin tribe, made it do their dirty work and give them treasure so it wouldn’t eat them - not that gobbos are innocent either, that’s why they weren’t given any mercy, can’t have them living in the woods raiding the villages either - but it’s the principal of the thing.

CW for: Monster whump, minor whump, fantastic racism, torture, mutilation, wing whump, sickness, poisoning, emeto, child abuse/death mention, execution, ambiguous ending.

Evil, cruel, vicious, greedy monsters. The avarice of a dragon is legendary. You know, they found enough gold and silver in its cave to buy the whole town twice times over - just hoarding all that wealth even though it had no use for it. Now it’s back in the right hands: by law after expenses one third goes to the crown, one sixth to the Duke, and one twelfth each to the Baron, the Lord Mayor, and the Church’s tithe, and the rest is divided among the soldiers with a double share going to the families of the ones the beast killed. Hopefully they spend it on better arms and armor, there’s another peasant revolt a few days away - something about the taxes being too high and the levies for the war - you know how these frontier towns are, never grateful for being protected.

Good men died fighting that dragon - family men, with wives and kids back home to feed. Hell, some of ‘em were barely boys, so no kids, just mothers and fathers and sweethearts. Look - I know I mentioned the levies but don’t get the wrong idea, it’s not like the crown’s just sending people’s sons off to die against their will. Mostly it’s second and third sons joining up. You know how it is, no inheritance, so they sign up to make their fortunes or die trying - and dragon slaying does pay well - it’s like being in the first wave through the breach in a siege, if you’re brave enough to face that monster and lucky enough to live to tell about it, you can buy yourself a good few acres, enough for a hardworking man who’s still got all his limbs to make a comfortable living for life. Or it’ll pay for a few full nights at a brothel.

But dragons aren’t like that: they don’t care for their own like humans do. If a female’s already got a full nest of mouths to feed and there’s more eggs coming they’ll just lay them someplace out of the way and forget about them - or sometimes they’ll keep some of them but leave the runts to fend for themselves. Or if a stronger male moves in on her terf she’ll chase the youngsters away since the males’ll kill ones that aren’t their own... yes, yes, I know about John’s stepdad - sorry John. But I have to stress that that’s extremely unusual in humans - really, you too Rob? I’m so sorry, I never knew. Oh - and Derek? Your sister? Really? Oh, Gods... anyway, I was talking about dragons. Heartless creatures. Disgusting. This one was probably abandoned, luckily.

Don’t feel sorry for it, though. Dragons are self-sufficient. They’re deadly from the day they hatch, their hearts as cold and ruthless as their flames are hot. And they’re crafty, too. It’s been pretending to cry out for its mother. Bluffing. Trying to act like there’s a greater threat. But most of the soldiers don’t know a word of their language, and the ones who do are smart enough to know you can’t trust a damn word a dragon says. No one’s coming to save it.

You can’t trust a dragon. Not a chromatic, especially not a Red. It doesn’t matter if it’s begging for its life – that makes it even more dangerous. A dragon always avenges every slight, every defeat, every humiliation. If you let it go it’ll come back and burn the whole damn town to the ground. If it gets away and survives and grows up it’ll always remember. It’ll track you down – it’ll track your children, your grandchildren down and kill them in their sleep if they inherit so much as one wretched piece of silver from its hoard. That’s how greedy, how possessive, a dragon is. It’s not a child, it’s a monster. It’s lucky that it took the bait of going after the poisoned meat. Dragons are smart, but they’re arrogant, they don’t think anyone else could possibly outsmart them, and they love to prove how superior they are. That’s their downfall.

And it was a really clever strategy by the baron, you see. Declare that he’s having a grand feast in honor of the dragonslayers’ arrival, and that anyone poaching the prize lambs chosen for his table will be put to death – put them in a locked barn with armed guards and all. Now a grown dragon probably wouldn’t fall for that but an arrogant wyrmling? It could hardly resist! The guards shoot a few arrows but they run off for reinforcements as soon as the dragon attacks them, but by then it’s already made off with one lamb and torched the rest. And the poison’s clever too – a new concoction the royal alchemists came up with. It’s harmless to humans, but when it’s exposed to a firedrake’s stronger body heat it activates.

Mind you the poison was supposed to kill it, not just make it sick, but it did weaken it enough that it couldn’t fly, although it still put up a hell of a fight. Bloody fiend killed four men before they got it in the net, three more wish they’d been among the four. It’s a monster, a savage. After what it’s done – well, a human who murdered royal soldiers wouldn’t get a quick, clean death either. But seeing it just flapping around trying to fly was what gave them the idea.

The dragon deserves to have its wings sliced to bloody ribbons. It deserves to be bound in chains and muzzled so it can’t breathe fire, and dragged through the town square on horseback and left chained up for a bit while the townsfolk throw stones at it. It deserves to be starved until it’s desperate enough to choke down rotten meat – dragonfire doesn’t really cook things too thoroughly, just chars the outside, and if it’s bad enough even a dragon can’t stomach it. Think of all those farmers who can’t put food on the table because of it. Think of those soldiers who’ll be begging for scraps after their share of the loot runs out. It deserves to have the townsfolk laugh at the so called powerful, superior being while it pukes its guts out like some stray cat that’s eaten a three-day-old fish head.

Dragons are sadistic. They’re cruel. They toy with their prey, they revel in the pain and suffering of other beings that they, in their hubris, think are better than them. That’s why it’s so satisfying to see one put in its place, brought down to the level of us “lowly” humans. I once heard of a dragon that kidnapped a woman for ransom, but she begged and cried to go home so much that the dragon got so annoyed it changed its mind. It promised her it’d take her right back to her own cottage, and true to its word, it flew her there… and dropped her on it from the Gods know how high in the air. The guy who told my the story says she hit the chimney dead on, and one of her legs and a few organs he didn’t look close enough to identify ended up in the fireplace. That’s why I keep saying you can never trust a dragon. You can’t trust it when it says it just wants to go home. The sleeping potion’s not all the way worn off yet, perhaps it hasn’t realized where it is. I suppose it deserves some credit for picking up so much of our tongue so fast.

See, we’re true to our word. This may not be its lair – only a fool would let a dragon go back there – but we let it go free, right there on the mountaintop where a sharp-eyed shepherd first saw it looking down on him. Like it was so superior for getting up there with its wings. Now let’s see how the blighter likes being up there! It’s sheer cliffs all around, at least a thousand feet down. That’s why it probably chose that perch, it’s a nightmare getting up or down without wings – or without the rope bridge made to get it up there – now burned. Reds are superb climbers of course, but that’s when they’ve got their wings as a safety net. Look it pacing around, right up to the ledge and looking down. Cowardly. Pathetic. Not so brave with its wings ruined. Not so brave with no way to save itself if it slips and falls.

It’s cold and windy up there. There’s no trees, no caves, no shelter from the damp and the chill and the mountain winds. Dragons might have fire in their hearts, but for the little young ones it’s not a strong flame. If it’s cold enough, even they’ll feel it. There’s no food, no water. Not that it could probably keep it down now anyhow. It could try it’s luck but it’s already half-starved, weak, and still sick as a flea-ridden dog in a plague pit. It can still be heard crying for help, but no one is coming to save it.

The Crown’s Army and the Royal Dragonslayers’ Guild highly recommends slicing a dragon’s wings to tattered ruins. A dragon that can’t fly is helpless. It can’t climb down a sheer, slippery cliff, or out of a deep, dark, damp well knee-deep in cold, muddy water. Dragons are cowards. Especially if you get ‘em while they’re young. And the dragon deserves this. If it’s the wrong color of dragon, that is.

The Royal Dragonslayers’ Guild would like to remind the reader that by order of the King, any man, woman, child, or any other subject of the Crown not covered by those categories, who spares a dragon’s life or offers aid or comfort to a dragon, is a traitor and shall be punished by death.

~~~

A/N: I love D&D, but my god I can’t stand the whole trope where entire species of sentient creatures are inherently evil and okay to indiscriminately slaughter, even the children. Like, if it’s literal demons or undead or eldritch horrors that consider humanity as important as insects or bacteria, sure, but when it’s creatures that are in any way “natural” and they’re just evil with no more justification than “Uhh... the gods did it?” or something, I don’t like that.

On the other hand, in-universe application of this trope is amazing. I seriously cannot get enough of sad monster whumpees being persecuted by ignorant humans.

If I think about it, dragons are the epitome of this, though, since there are stats for every age category. I can’t think of any other iconic D&D monsters like this, aside from things like mind flayers that have distinct larval stages. There’s a lot of “Oh, here’s a bigger, older version of the same monster” but generally the stats are only given for adults. Sure, the players massacring orc or goblin children may well be a possibility, but the game doesn’t devote page space in the Monster Manual to describing exactly how many hit points an orc toddler has. Dragons are specifically and intentionally designed to let the players kill their babies.

But hey, the motto is: “If it has stats, the PCs can kill it.” My motto is: “If it has stats, I can ignore those stats, especially the annoying ones like climb speed and immunity to nonlethal damage from cold etc. and especially ignore the ‘Alignment’ section.

[imamoderntragedy]

When Miss Rona Came To Town

 I woke up later than usual today. I’ve been a lot more tired recently than I was before it happened, but that’s okay because there is barely any traffic anymore so the drive to school takes half the time it did a few days ago.

 It has two names, the thing that’s caused all the traffic to disappear, and everyone around the world knows them by now so calling it by its real name is entirely unnecessary. At school everyone simply says “any more news on what they’re doing about it?” Everyone knows what it is. Either that or they call it a pet name, simply a shortened version of its full name, like a nickname I guess. Not that what we call it will matter much anymore. We’ll all be in isolation soon. The Prime Minister announced that closure off all schools in the UK yesterday, well, all the ones that didn’t already have confirmed cases. I watched the live feed on my phone with my mum as we made dinner. People had been calling for schools to close for weeks anyway so we weren’t really surprised when the decision was announced. The issue was more a matter of ‘when’ than ‘if’. My mum didn’t entirely understand why they needed to close though.

“You young people can’t get it so I don’t see why schools need to close.” Of course she wasn’t completely wrong, but she wasn’t entirely right either.

“What about the teachers mum?” I’d asked her. “What about them?” She didn’t reply to that. I had more points but I knew better than to say anything. She never liked being wrong.

 There was a power cut last night too. My sister was in the bathroom when the lights went out and she screamed which made me jump as well. She doesn’t like the dark so she stayed in my room until the lights came back on. My friends from school two towns over said that they had one about the same time. The WiFi went down for a few minutes as well. We all knew that it wasn’t what had caused the power to go out or the WiFi to go down. We made an educated guess, not that an educated guess from us would be worth much with our GCSEs and quarter of an A-Level. Either way we guessed that the power went out because of the effects of it. The lack of workers. The constant checking of the live death count online and then the checking it again. Nobody could tell for sure though, apart from maybe the government and the power companies. But they wouldn’t tell us.

 We are just year twelves.

 I arrived at school at about that same time that I always do and met with my friends at the top of the Sixth Form Center. We spoke about the Prime Minister’s speech. Everyone had watched the Prime Minister’s speech. For some reason, we kept talking about what we would do if we had some power in all of this. As if we though we knew how we could fix everything. We all knew that we couldn’t. We aren’t quite that ignorant to think we know everything that is at stake here. I don’t think the Prime Minister himself even knows everything that’s at stake here, even though we’d like to think he does.

 After that, we dispersed across the school to go to our form. That’s when our tutor announced that all of the year thirteens would have no lessons and had to clear out their lockers so they could leave after break. All of their lessons were cancelled and their school year was over. No one had expected that. No one I knew at least.

 For most of them it didn’t sink in. Or they didn’t believe it. Or they didn’t want to believe it. Their reactions were difficult to read. They ranged from stunned silence to loud complaints. For them, that email meant a year and a half of their lives wasted. What made it even worse was that they had no idea how this would affect their applications for university or apprenticeships. The uncertainty made some people cry.

 Then two free periods of wasted time, no one did their work. Most people were dashing around the room saying their rushed last goodbyes to the friends they had made in their one and a half years of wasted time. There was a person in the corner crying out that they would have tired harder in their mock exams if they knew the it was going to be the mock results that they would need for their application. Their friends were there too, trying to reassure them that the teachers would put in a good word, of course, they didn’t know if it was true or not, they were just pretty sure.

 At break, everyone was saying their final goodbyes. I wrote in some leavers books, although you could hardly call them that. The books were actually ‘Top 100 Graduate Employers: 20th Edition’ by The Times newspaper because the school had ordered double the amount that they had actually needed for the school’s post-18 programme, which would now be simultaneously a lot more and a lot less applicable because of it. The school hadn’t even put together the yearbooks yet, so there was no way the students were getting them now. All of the companies involved in the printing process were probably already closed down already anyway.

 English Literature was next. Our teacher did the same as our form tutor but with slightly more information. New emails sent out every minute. We were supposed to do a new Keats poem although we made the silent unanimous decision that reading Keats’ work wouldn’t do anything to brighten the mood. Duffy wouldn’t either. So we just talked for the entire hour about the effects that it would have and how we would do our lessons while in isolation. There were some jokes passed around about how our teacher, Mr Wilson, should keep safe because he was one of the ‘vulnerable few’ but in all reality, it wasn’t a joke. We all knew that.

 We also knew that Mr Wilson was one of the ‘vulnerable few’ however he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would leave his house on a regular basis anyway. We could all imagine the stacks of books that he would be reading. Between the jokes there were questions. Too many to count. The answer to all was the same.

“I don’t know.” His words were repeated like a solemn mantra that only brought more dread every time it was repeated.

 Politics was the opposite. There was a total of five unanswerable questions before the teacher dismissed them all with a swipe of his hand and a single shout. He pretended that it didn’t exist after that. As if everything was fine and the world wasn’t burning to ashes around us.

 From all of that I concluded that they didn’t know. I checked with the others. None of their teachers knew. But how could they not know? They were teachers. Teachers knew everything. Well, teachers used to know everything. They don’t anymore.

 All mass gatherings had been ‘advised against’ by the government since last week, but Headmaster Rhodes was determined to give year eleven a “proper send-off” as he called it. I caught a glimpse of the assembly hall. The chairs were all arranged an arm’s length apart. As if that would do anything to stop it.

 I checked the death toll in the car on the way home. The numbers rose by forty people today.

 It was getting quicker. It was getting too quick.

 “Have you heard about the rivers in Italy?” My mum was sitting in the driver’s seat navigating her way through the near-empty roads.

“I haven’t.” I glanced up from my phone and turned towards her.

“They’re blue again. They were green, you know that ones in Venice?” I nodded. “Well, they’ve turned blue again. There’s even some fish in them. People thought all the fish had died years ago, but just this morning there were reports of fish.” She smiled sporadically and then bit her lip nervously and her face grew back into a harrowing stare.

“At least some good has come out of it.” I replied, turning back to my phone.

 Maybe it could be the start of a new era. Who knows. All I know is if this is the transition from one era to another then it’s dangerous, terrifying, and full of uncertainty.

 I don’t like it.

[ego-sum-id-quod-cantum-ludere]

WHAT IT'S LIKE TO LIVE IN AN OLD PEOPLE'S APARTMENT BUILDING

Holy shit, I haven't even been living in here for two months, and I'm going to be living here for at least another five. All I want to do here is make myself bedridden because that's the only thing that can go okay.

Before I get into this, I would like to say this for context: My dad decided that the pandemic was the best time to sell the house that I grew up in, and so he did. He wanted my two siblings and me to live with him in this apartment building meant for the elderly, but four people can't fit in an apartment for two. So we tried getting a double for my sister and me, but there weren't any available. The only available space was the common room that was being unused because of the pandemic. So that's where we're living.

THOUGH ADVICE IS HELPFUL, THIS POST IS MOSTLY FOR VENTING!

PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, DON'T TELL US TO GET A JOB OR GET A DIFFERENT APARTMENT OR ASK WHERE MOM IS BECAUSE YOU DON'T KNOW OUR SITUATION, AND THIS IS ONLY A SMALL PORTION OF THE PROBLEM WE'VE BEEN PUT IN!

Now that that's out of the way, these are the problems that have occurred thus far:

1. Old people trying to break in.

I swear to God, the next time a Boomer with dementia tries to break in the room, I'm going to flip my shit.

Just today, there was an old lady who tried to break in THREE times. She got in successfully once because we had to leave the door unlocked for the workers to get in and try to fix the problems we were having with the pipe. The first thing she did was TAKE OFF HER MASK! The second thing she did was ask if there were other people in here, and my sister and I said, "No, we live here now." And then, she nearly brought herself to tears over her story of how she likes the piano and her father was a professional pianist, and that she misses the people. And we had to say, "Sorry, but we live here now" and send her on her way. Because we live here now. So then she leaves and we lock the door.

If we had left the piano open, or if she noticed the keyboard behind me, she NEVER would have left!

NOT EVEN FIVE MINUTES LATER, she returns to our door and tries to unlock the door with her keys!

We've told the owner multiple times about this since people try to break in almost every day, but the problem is that no matter how many times he tells all the old people that we live here, there will always be at least one person that forgets and tries to break in, and there's nothing we can do about it.

Also, as I was writing this post, someone else tried to break in (or maybe it was the same person trying to break in) YET AGAIN!

And then after my siblings and I had dinner, someone tried the handle on the doorknob FOUR  SEPARATE TIMES! With a total of NINE TIMES that this has happened in one day, it has been a new personal record. Usually, it has only been once or twice a day.

2. AC problems

Bugs can easily get in the building through the vents when the AC is turned off. One time, a wasp got in here.

The filters only get replaced once a year. As far as I know from previously living in a home with an HVAC system, the filters are supposed to be replaced every 1 to 3 months.

You can't put things up against or near the vents, otherwise problems will occur.

The AC has leaked before. Thankfully, there were little to no damages, but now I'm afraid to leave it on for long periods of time.

3. THE MAIN PIPE OF THE BUILDING IS EXTREMELY CLOGGED, and it just so happens that the young folks here are the ones to notice something going on.

When we first moved in, we noticed a puddle of dirty water coming up from the bathtub drain, and we didn’t know where it was coming from or why it was happening. So we called someone in to examine it, and all he said was that they knew of this problem but didn’t want to do anything to fix it. So we had to accept that this was a problem that couldn’t be fixed (or that the owner didn’t want to fix it).

From then on, we assumed that the water came from one of our neighbors. We tried ways to bypass this issue while we were taking a shower, such as leaving the drain closed, and letting the water from the shower fill up the tub a bit before opening the drain. However, there was still dirty water coming up at times, and we don’t know why.

LAST NIGHT, however, we heard a strange bubble coming from the kitchen sink, and it turned out that the dirty water that would usually come up in the bathtub WAS FILLING UP THE SINK! So we had to call someone about this, and they came in this morning to check it out. They tried using a plunger in the sink, but more water kept coming up the garbage disposal. That’s when they realized that THE WHOLE PLUMBING SYSTEM IN THE BUILDING WAS CLOGGED! THE MAIN PIPE WAS CLOGGED! So now they have to figure out how to unclog the main pipe. That will be an update for a later time.

Update: apparently, this exact same problem happened a few years ago! This clearly shows how fucked-up the plumbing system is in this building - that the MAIN pipe of the building gets clogged EVERY FEW YEARS!

Update 2: The sink bubbled up again and now has more water in it.

4. The owner is shady as fuck.

The owner of the building is the original owner’s grandson. Ok, cool, he got a family business going. That’s cool and all, but why does his personality creep me out so much?

When he first met me, he thought that I was the mom, that I was the one running the show. But I’m not the mom, and I’m not even the one “running the show”. He knows full well that my dad was the one who decided to make my siblings and me live in a Boomer building, and my sister (bless her soul) is the one who is taking care of my brother and me (but it’s not like my dad will ever acknowledge that).

The way he talks is very strange, too, as if he’s trying to coo force me to be comfortable. And he blows me kisses too, like wtf? I understand doing that to your grandson, but doing that to a stranger, let alone a grown-ass adult is creepy.

He also has immigrant workers, which is not inherently bad, but on the day we were moving in, he showed my dad a text of one of the workers being deported back to the Dominican Republic. So either the immigrant workers are there undocumented or they did have a Visa or green card that expired and the owner didn’t let them renew their Visa/green card. If it’s the latter, then holy shit that’s fucked up. Also, I wonder how well they’re being treated in general when they’re working, or how much they get paid compared to other non-immigrant workers (oh wait, they can’t figure that out because we live in a culture that refuses to let their workers talk about their salaries in fear of demanding better wages, whoops).

5. The Wifi breaks every so often.

It’s not as big of a deal as the others on here, but it is annoying.

There’s constantly been construction going on in the street adjacent to the apartment building, and one time the cable got cut out. It took a few hours for the problem to be fixed.

It’ll be more annoying if the Wifi breaks while I’m trying to attend classes on Zoom or doing homework.

6. Other general bug problems

The bugs that my sister and I get are mostly mosquitoes, gnats, and other flies. In my dad’s apartment, where my brother sleeps, there are big black beetles everywhere! We don’t know if they’re cockroaches or not, but he gets many of them flying and crawling in his room every night, and he has to lose hours upon hours of sleep whacking these bugs with a fly swatter until they’re dead. And once he kills one, another starts flying around. We have no idea where these ones are coming from either.

In conclusion, this apartment building is very problematic, and the only reason why other people haven’t complained about the problems of this building is that they’re old and are less likely to notice or care about these problems. I wouldn’t be surprised if the walls have asbestos in them. Unfortunately, I have to be stuck here for at least another five months, maybe more if this pandemic rages on for decades (thanks in no part to the government - oh, whoops, I’m not supposed to say that, lol).

If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading this post. Again, this post was mostly for venting, but some helpful advice on how to get out of this situation (or at least not feel like I’m suffering so much) would be appreciated.

If you’re living in a similar situation as I am, I do have one piece of advice for you - don’t go to Quora and anonymously ask questions. They WILL bully you.

[quinnybee-writes]

Title: Fire Meet Gasoline

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: T+

Part: 6/?

Story Summary: A chance encounter between a villain and vigilante leads to an unwise deal made between unlikely allies; an unwise deal made between unlikely allies ends in a final stand neither would have ever dared to take on alone. Together, though, they just might have a fighting chance.

Part 6 Summary: Favor number two tests the patience of one and the mettle of another, leaving uncertainty about both in its wake.

Part 1 on  Tumblr / AO3

Part 2 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 3 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 4 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 5 on Tumblr / AO3

Part 6 on AO3

I swear to god if if I have to sit through one more meeting where I get voluntold to pick up another department’s slack in the same sentence as management trying to cut my intern’s hours I’m going to chug a two-liter of Surge and burp so loud I bring this whole mfer down with me.

Shouta stared at his phone, his sleep-addled brain trying to make sense of whether Yamada meant the text as a threat or not. He’d been catching a quick power nap in the back of his truck during his lunch hour and had been most of the way asleep when the rattle of his phone on the metal floor jolted him awake again. Not helping his attempt to dissect the meaningless hyperbole was Yamada’s follow up text of lmao it u along with a gif of a cat trying to jump from a bed to a dresser and falling halfway with the caption “parkour!”. He wouldn’t put it past Yamada to be the type to threaten in one breath and quote a meme in the next, but he couldn’t wrap his brain around why Yamada would be sending him incriminating evidence via text message during work hours.

Two new messages came in quick succession as Shouta was trying to puzzle things out.

Oh my god

Those were supposed to go to my sister holy shit

So not an admission or a threat, just an idiot with a cell phone. Shouta groaned, eyes rolling back in his head in disgust at how much energy he had wasted on taking Yamada seriously yet again.

forget it Shouta sent back.

Cute cat pic for ur trouble? Yamada replied along with a picture of a gangly black cat with bright yellow eyes. The cat was sprawled on its back in a pile of kibble and the shredded scraps of a cat food bag. Shouta snorted, grinning a little in spite of himself at the self-satisfied look on the cat’s fuzzy little face.

cute he texted, trying to distill as much exhaustion and disinterest into the single word as possible.

That’s Ai-chan. She’s a monster, but she’s my monster <3

So what are you up to? Break from work?

Shouta sighed, rubbing his temples. It was impossible to freeze out someone who was so willing to keep the conversation going without outside input.

trying to catch some sleep before afternoon deliveries Shouta replied as pointedly as he could.

Oof. Busy night?

do you need something? Shouta asked, stabbing the send key a little harder than he really needed to. There was a short, offended pause from Yamada’s end of the line; Shouta could picture him looking down at his phone with that little not-quite-pouting moue he always made when things weren’t going his way.

I guess not.

The curt punctuation seemed to signal Yamada had finally gotten the point, just in time to exhaust the last of Shouta’s free time before he had to get going again. Shouta put his phone into his pocket and made a point to not check it again until he was walking home. Waiting for him was another gif, this time of a pair of hands vigorously shaking a bottle of Surge, followed by a message that just said Oh goddammit. Shouta rolled his eyes and deleted the thread without replying.

The perceived slight only kept Yamada at bay for a short time, however. Now that he’d gotten a taste of the man’s texting habits Shouta had to wonder how Yamada managed to get anything done. No matter when his breaks were during the day it seemed like Yamada always had some new meme or gif or general workplace complaint to gift him with in the meantime, whether it was before dawn or after dark or occasionally both.

do you actually have a job or do they just pay you to bother me? Shouta finally asked as he waited at an interminable red light several days later. Yamada had been on a spree that morning, flooding his inbox with an illustrated play-by-play of Ai-chan’s newest misdoings while Shouta had four straight hours of back-to-back deliveries.

Excuse you, Yamada texted back loftily, I am an integral part of station management! Who occasionally may or may not take extra long bathroom breaks to avoid getting roped into being more integral than I already am.

my bad. clearly you’re just doing your part to prevent asahi radio from being razed via belch Shouta replied, snorting out a laugh before he could stop himself. He paused, frowning. That was both new and unwelcome.

Yamada sent back a long line of laugh-crying emojis followed by Look who grew a sense of humor just in time to drag me!

don’t act like you know me.

Yeah, yeah. Scout’s honor, I won’t tell anybody you’re actually funny.

Shouta scowled, dropping the phone onto the seat next to him and pulling through the light as it finally turned green. Despite the chilly weather he rolled his window down to get some airflow on his face. He hadn’t turned on the truck’s heater yet but his cheeks already felt way too warm.

Shouta spent his next day off drinking too much coffee at the cat cafe while he tried to reign in the chaos that his computer desktop had become. His phone buzzed on the table beside him and Shouta swiped in the passcode with one hand while the other was dragging a huge load of defunct backup files to his computer’s trash. He’d sooner walk into traffic than admit it to Yamada, but having a passcode on his phone was turning out to be less of an inefficient hassle that he’d always thought it would be and did make him less anxious about putting it places that weren’t his pocket or his hand.

As if waiting for the thought to cue him in, the alert was for yet another of Yamada’s early-morning memes. This time it was a gif of a kitten trying to stay awake before it wobbled and flopped out of frame. Yamada’s accompanying caption read That midweek feeling hitting hard today along with an emoji of a sleeping face with a snot bubble.

it’s monday Shouta texted back.

When you work 24/7 it’s always midweek, Yamada replied.

implying you work at all. still not convinced.

I resent that, Aizawa. It takes a lot of skill and determination to shovel this much shit and still have spare time to be a full-time pain in the ass.

Shouta almost allowed himself a laugh at that, but the air caught in his throat at Yamada’s next question.

So, do you do all of your important hero research on the public wifi at kitty cafes, or is today a special occasion?

What do you mean? Shouta asked warily.

Behind you.

Shouta turned slowly, dreading what he knew he was about to see. Yamada was standing on the sidewalk outside, grinning at him over the top of his cell phone. He gave Shouta a little wave before sauntering in and up to the counter. He chatted amiably with the baristas as they made his order. Shouta frowned to himself, trying to work out the quickest way to pack up his belongings while disturbing as few sleeping cats as possible. The moment came and went too quickly, however, as Yamada came over with two cups of coffee in his hands.

“Black with one sugar, right?” Yamada said. He slid one of the steaming mugs in front of Shouta. “That’s what they said anyway,” he added, nodding up towards the counter.

“What are you doing here?” Shouta asked coolly. Yamada frowned at him.

“I was on my way to the post office to mail a couple things and empty the station P.O. box and saw you in the window,” Yamada said. “I figured we could sit and chat since we both have a minute.”

“You just kind of assume you’re welcome wherever you decide to be, don’t you?” Shouta said.

Yamada snorted. “If that’s the worst thing someone tells me about myself today, I’ll count it as a win,” he replied, toasting Shouta with his coffee cup. He invited himself to sit down in the only chair not currently occupied by cats. “Wait, is that a spreadsheet with my name on it?” he added with sudden interest, arching his neck around to peek at Shouta’s screen. Shouta slammed the lid of his laptop shut, feeling his face heating.

“Do you need something?” Shouta asked, trying to redirect the conversation and get Yamada back on his way as quickly as possible.

“Just caffeine and conversation,” Yamada shrugged. “Is it illegal to ask someone about their day?”

“Implying you care about whether or not you’re doing something illegal,” Shouta replied curtly. To his annoyance Yamada just chuckled and shrugged.

“I mean, you’ve got me there,” he said. “So, what are you working on?” Yamada added, lowering his tone just slightly.

“Catching up on some things,” Shouta said, intentionally vague. “Organizing research. It takes longer when you’re doing it on your own.”

“I bet,” Yamada agreed. “Would probably save you some time and effort to have a permanent back door into places you’re not supposed to be, huh?” He said it with a too-even speculation that set Shouta instantly on edge.

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience,” Shouta said.

“I know people who know things,” Yamada said with a broad, conspiratorial grin over his coffee mug. “Keeping your friends close and your enemies closer is a lot easier when you can tell which is which.”

Shouta felt a frisson of discomfort run up his spine at the implication of where Yamada considered him to be on that spectrum. “I think I liked it better when you were threatening me,” he muttered. “Don’t make more of that than there is,” he added quickly as Yamada’s smile grew cheeky and he opened his mouth to comment. Yamada did his annoying little not-quite-pouting pout and let out a quiet “hmph” at his joke being preempted.

“In any case, you probably don’t need me to tell you how to crack a secure password,” Yamada said. “Even when they’re clever they’re usually related to either the one who sets them or the thing they’re locking up, or they’re something pseudo-random cooked up by a number generator. Sometimes they get stupid-clever and try to do all three.”

“Mmn?” As bored as he was trying to sound, Shouta couldn’t help taking mental notes on what Yamada was saying. Yamada was a flippant trouble-maker from the word go but there were moments where he displayed actual talent for the things he claimed to be an expert in.

“Oh yeah,” Yamada said. “They’re trying for layers of security, but too many moving parts makes passwords way easier to out-think. Codes are only as smart as the people who write them, y’know?”

“And you know how smart they are?” Shouta asked, trying to keep his tone casual as he goaded Yamada into staying on a roll. Yamada caught his drift a little too well, however, and the sharp, meaningful grin came out again.

“I know people who know things,” he said again. “I’d be willing to let you in on a few trade secrets for the low, low price of a certain five-letter word beginning with ‘f’.”

Shouta snorted. “Hard pass.”

“Well, I tried,” Yamada said, shrugging. He checked the time on his phone and sighed. “That’s about my lot, I’m afraid. Gotta get back before the world ends.” He stood and stretched with a groan. “We should do this again sometime. Maybe talk less shop.” The offer seemed oddly genuine and Shouta wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that.

He tried to get back to work after Yamada left, but his concentration had been thoroughly broken. He bought another coffee and turned on some neutral background music; his brain, however, was no longer in the mood to stare at a screen and try to riddle out what his new sub-folders should be called. Finally Shouta dislodged the many cats who had taken up residence in and around his lap and packed up his laptop to see if fresh air on the walk home and a change of venue might help get him back on task.

Shouta nudged his apartment door closed with his heel, scooping the mess of envelopes out of his mail bin. It was mostly the normal jumble of junk and bills, but amongst the shuffle was a thin white payroll envelope with his name and address on the front in too-familiar spidery handwriting. Just going to empty the station mailbox indeed, Shouta thought with a groan. Yamada was way too fond of theatrics. He tossed the envelope onto his sofa without opening it and delayed paying it any attention until he’d put everything away, showered, and had a lengthy play session with his cats. If it was unimportant enough for Yamada to not just hand it over when they were in the same room together, Shouta told himself, then there was no need for him to bend over backwards to pay attention to it the instant he got home.

Finally his excuses ran out and he tore the envelope open. Inside were two pieces of paper folded separately into sharp thirds. The first was a handwritten note on Asahi Radio letterhead that read:

Aizawa-

I need a favor. I have a line on something but doing it alone might be tricky. You’ll just be the go-between, nothing dire. Meet me Friday, 9pm sharp.

-M

Also included was another of Yamada’s meticulously notated hand-drawn maps, at the other end of which was a complex of storage units bordered on all sides by a spike-topped chain link fence. Shouta peered into the dark, abandoned-looking guard booth, wondering if the first step to tonight’s goings-on was having to find his own way inside.

“Hey, you made it!”

Shouta turned to see a dark-haired man slouching up towards him from the other end of the sidewalk. He eyed the man warily, about to say he had the wrong person, but stopped as he stepped into the light and raised his sunglasses with a smirk. Yamada had stuffed all of his hair under a short, spiky black wig and a black and green snapback, slicked down his mustache and covered it in a thin layer of skin-colored makeup to blend it in with his face, and buried himself in baggy jeans and a jacket that made him look both heavier-set and a few inches shorter than he actually was. The only things that gave him away were his sharp too-green eyes and his unmistakable grin, full of crafty smugness at Shouta’s open surprise at his appearance. Yamada did a full turnaround of the odd costume, ending the twirl with a dramatic pose.

“Not a bad look for me, huh?” he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Shouta snorted. “You look like a washed-up pop star who’s trying to pretend he still has to avoid the paparazzi,” he replied flatly.

To his surprise Yamada let out a burst of full-throated laughter at the remark. Shouta wasn’t sure he’d ever heard Yamada laugh in genuine amusement before now, only the occasional mocking chuckle or triumphant snicker. He had a loud, whinnying kind of laugh that tapered off into short bursts of wheezy, hyena-like giggles behind his hand as he remembered himself and tried to tamp it down.

“Okay, cynical,” Yamada said, still coughing through the last of his laughing fit. “Everyone’s a critic.” He rolled his eyes and gave a flourishy “well, what are you gonna do” kind of shrug. Shouta scowled at him.

“What are we doing here?” Shouta asked, doing his best to ignore Yamada’s grandstanding despite the growing burn of annoyance creeping up his face.

“Just a quick jaunt into my evil lair,” Yamada said cheerfully. He punched an entry code into the number pad next to the guard house, then pressed his thumb to the scanner underneath. The keypad flashed green and beeped an affirmative, and a small portion of the gate swung inward. “C’mon,” Yamada said. He motioned for Shouta to follow him as he led the way through the rows of squat cinder block units to one in the very back left corner of the lot.

“People with money can afford secret basements and underground boltholes wherever they need them,” Yamada said over his shoulder as he bent down to unlock the door of the unit, “but the rest of us have to make do with what we’ve got.” He lifted the door just high enough for himself and Shouta to duck under, then set it back down with a clatter. The unit was pitch-black and humid inside and smelled like a mixture of burnt-out electrical parts, solder, and partially cured epoxy glue. “I’ll get the lights, one sec,” Yamada said. Shouta heard him scrabbling along the wall to find the light switch, then a click. A fluorescent shop light flickered and buzzed to life above them, flooding the unit in intense blue-white light. Yamada turned to Shouta and spread his hands wide. “Taa-daa! Welcome to the inner sanctum.”

It looked more like a high school shop room that had sublet space to a thrift store. The left wall had been covered in a cluster of flat-pack bookshelves, their shelves bowing under a jumble of storage boxes labeled things like “radio parts-LIVE”, “speaker wire”, “tape--sticky”, and “tape--magnetic”. The back wall was one long anchored shelf divided into slots that held overstuffed file folders bundled together with rubber bands and binder clips. The only wall not covered in shelving or projects was taken up with a butcher block work table and a cork board with scribbled notes and schematics pinned to it.

“Kind of rinky-dink, but it gets the job done,” Yamada said fondly. “Anyway. First things first, did you happen to wear the stab vest I gave you?” he asked over his shoulder as he ducked under the work table and retrieved a box marked with today’s date.

“Yeah.” The assurance that his part in tonight would be “nothing dire” had put Shouta on high enough alert that he’d forced himself to put pride aside and opt for personal safety instead.

“Thank god. So, basically what I need is for you to be my stand in while things get underway tonight,” Yamada said. “I’d go on my own, but the meeting place is kind of a...no-go area for me right now due to certain people who frequent it.”

“And you’d rather send me in looking like you instead?” Shouta asked, raising an eyebrow at him. Yamada stared at Shouta like he’d started speaking French.

“What? God, no, what gave you that idea?”

Shouta sighed, silently counting to ten in his head as his patience frayed. “You just said I’m supposed to be your stand in.”

“Oh. Okay, yeah, poor choice of words. Think stunt double, not body double,” Yamada explained. “I just need you to be a good-faith warm body, I’ll be handling the rest with this.” He reached into the box and pulled out something that looked like a cold weather mask had been extruded into a large funnel shape at the bottom edge. Shouta looked from it to Yamada, who was beaming in obvious self-pride.

“Which is…?” Shouta prompted.

“Which is your half of a two-way radio with a built in broadcasting speaker,” Yamada said, turning the top edge inside out to show Shouta the wiring and speakers sewn into it. “At first I thought maybe I could just have you memorize a script and I’d step in if things got too off-book, but you’re not very good at lying under pressure so I wasn’t sure that would fly,” he continued. Shouta wasn’t sure if that was meant as an insult or not. “So instead, we have this to work with. I can use this--” Yamada pulled up his sleeve to show a tiny microphone taped to the inside of his wrist-- “to talk to you or talk as you, depending, as long as I stay within ten or twelve feet of you at all times.” The last part he said in one of his uncomfortably accurate impressions of Shouta’s voice.

“And that’s why you’re dressed like that?” Shouta said.

“Exactly. I’ll have to be close enough to you that the receiver can pick up the signal, and it’ll be way easier to read the room if I’m, y’know, in the room.”

“If you were going to put on a costume and go anyway, why didn’t you just do that and go on your own?” Shouta asked.

Yamada frowned and waved a finger at him like he was scolding a child. “Eh-eh-eh. No questions asked, remember? You know as much as you need to know, and you don’t need to know any more than that. Now stand still so I can get you wired up.”

Shouta grudgingly stood with his arms straight out from his body as Yamada turned him into a human switchboard. With a combination of strategic placement and gaffer tape Yamada ran a long wire with an audio jack on one end and a battery connection on the other from Shouta’s waist up his left side to just under his collar bone. Another wire ran the length of his inner arm from shoulder to wrist and ended in a loop with a switch on it that fit over the first knuckle of his thumb. All he had to do, Yamada said as he taped it all down, was press the switch when he needed to talk to Yamada and let it go when he was finished. “Y’know,” Yamada said, “like those cheap walkie-talkies you used to play with as a kid.”

“I ended up making this a lot bigger at the bottom so that we can hide all of our crimes under it,” Yamada muttered as he slipped the mask over Shouta’s head. He was back in the extreme focus mode Shouta had seen him slip into before, attention laser-focused and the corner of his mouth between his teeth as he connected all the wires and power sources underneath. He pulled an earpiece up under the mask by its wire and stuck it in Shouta’s ear before reaching up to fuss with Shouta’s hair and make sure it was hiding everything sticking above the mask. Shouta shivered involuntarily at the touch, barely resisting the urge to pull away. “With the right top layer all of this should be more or less invisible,” Yamada went on, frowning appraisingly as he took a step back to examine his handiwork. He rummaged through a few things in the box and surfaced with a heavy black zippered jacket. “I had to guess sizes, but I think this one should be close enough.”

Yamada unzipped the jacket and held it out so that Shouta could shrug into it. Shouta eased the jacket on, trying not to disturb the network of wires all over him. Yamada zipped it up almost to the top, open enough to seem casual but still high enough to cover all but the face portion of the mask and its contents. It wasn’t a terrible fit other than being slightly short in the sleeves and restrictive around the shoulders. Shouta bent and twisted his arms, trying to stretch it out without doing damage to the electronic infrastructure. Yamada untied the audiojack end of the main wire from Shouta’s belt loop and stuck it into a small cheap-looking disposable cell phone.

“This should have enough battery to keep a recording of the whole thing,” Yamada said. “Can you give me a quick mic check to make sure everything’s hooked up?”

“Uh. Testing,” Shouta said.

Yamada seemed to like what he saw in the waveforms on the phone’s screen. He smiled in satisfaction before stretching a piece of tape around the back of the phone and carefully taping it into place in Shouta’s pocket. “If we head out right now we should get there early enough to do a few on-site checks,” Yamada said, checking the time. “Shall we?”

The two of them walked a few blocks from the storage unit to a cramped, dim little pub. Yamada walked at tailing distance behind Shouta the whole way, testing the range on the homemade gear by giving Shouta directions to where they were going. The audio was relatively clear if they stayed within Yamada’s estimation of ten or so feet; after they hit closer to the twelve-foot mark it got fainter and fainter until dropping out completely as they reached about fifteen feet. Again Shouta had to wonder why, if they were essentially going to be handcuffed to one another anyway, Yamada couldn’t have just gone undercover by himself.

“Grab a drink at the bar and go sit at one of the high-top tables,” Yamada said as Shouta opened the bar’s door and made his way in. “That’s where he’ll be expecting you.”

“Any advice on how to recognize whoever I’m supposed to be meeting?” Shouta muttered back under his breath.

“No idea, he said he would find you. That’s pretty standard for a meeting like this,” Yamada added before Shouta could protest. “Nobody wants to get jumped outside before negotiations even get underway. Think of it as a blind date, but nefarious.”

Shouta sighed loudly, making sure he hit the switch so that Yamada would hear him. Yamada’s never-ending supply of bad metaphors was the last thing he needed right now.

“Calm down, Aizawa,” Yamada said. “Remember, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty, I’ll handle the talking.” There was a short fizzle of static as Yamada entered the pub and made his way to a secluded booth in the back corner. “Still read me?”

“Yeah.”

“Excellent. What’s your poison?”

“Pardon?”

“Beer? Wine? Shot of whiskey to settle your nerves?”

“You really want alcohol anywhere near all this equipment?” Shouta asked, bewildered.

“It’s just for show, who goes into a bar and doesn’t order anything? You shouldn’t drink anything they serve here anyway, their bartending is a bad joke,” Yamada said dismissively. “I just need to test the audio output and make sure we’re good to go before the main event.”

“Then just do it,” Shouta said shortly. “Didn’t you just say you were going to handle all the talking?”

“Everyone’s a critic,” Yamada muttered again. His usual flippant chill had gained an undertone of cranky tenseness that was less than reassuring. “Can I get a bottle of Sapporo?” Yamada said aloud in Shouta’s voice. Shouta just managed to turn toward the bartender in time for the question to seem natural. The bartender, a smirking woman with long brown hair held back in a red ribbon, gave him an appraising once-over. She seemed to be unimpressed with what she saw.

“Sure,” the bartender said. She reached into a cooler under the counter and came back with the bottle of beer, popping the lid off before placing it on the bar in front of Shouta.

“Thanks,” Yamada said, far more cheerfully than Shouta had ever said the word. Shouta nodded his own thanks and went to go sit at one of the high tables in a cluster near the front. He drummed his heel on the bottom rung of the bar stool. The bar was basically empty and silent other than the bartender’s phone playing lo-fi swing music from a speaker dock behind the bar. Otherwise it was just Shouta and his undrinkable beer killing time.

“Ohshit.” The words came out as a single noise hissed violently in Shouta’s ear, making him jump.

“What?” he hissed back, avoiding the curious look the bartender was giving him.

“Remember how I said there were some people who made this place a no-go area because they want to kill me?” Yamada said, sounding like he was talking through his teeth.

“Yeah?”

“That’s them coming in. Don’t look at them! Have you never been undercover in your life?” Yamada whisper-shouted as Shouta turned to look over his shoulder at the door. Almost immediately he snapped his head back around, trying to be as casual as possible about pulling the jacket’s hood over his head as he saw Takeshiro and his wife coming in and sitting a few tables away.

“You know them?” Shouta asked, hopelessly hoping Yamada actually meant someone else who was still outside.

“Ye-ep,” Yamada said, distaste drawing the word out several syllables longer than it needed to be. “They’re still kind of sore about a certain scene in a certain alley you might be familiar with.” He scoffed, then hissed, “Wait, you know them?” as Shouta’s tone dawned on him.

The alleyway. Shapes in the dark played back in Shouta’s head, fuzzy from time and panic but falling into clearer place with the new context. A short, stringy figure barking orders and bailing when things got complicated; the other taller and stocky and silent with a plant-based Quirk protecting him. Shouta gritted his teeth, annoyed by how clear the connection seemed now that it was right in front of him.

“Takeshiro works on the night crew in package processing. Takes a lot of sick days now that I think of it. I’ve never actually spoken to his wife but I’ve seen her at office parties before,” he said quietly.

“His wife? Ew,” Yamada said.

“You’re telling me they’re villains?” Shouta asked, ignoring him. Yamada snorted.

“So-called. They work for an egomaniac middleman called Seguchi. Hebiko is Seguchi’s left hand, and Takeshiro’s hers.”

“What did you do to make them want to kill you?”

“Their boss did something stupid with information that wasn’t his and got busted. I had nothing to do with it,” Yamada retorted tartly.

“Right, sure,” Shouta said. “Is this going to be a problem?”

“Nah, shouldn’t be,” Yamada said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced. “This is why I planned things this way. No reason to bail out before anything happens.” Shouta was about to protest that it made a lot more sense to leave before there was a problem rather than scrambling when they were in trouble, but Yamada spoke first. “Heads up, you’ve got company.”

“So you’re Null.”

Shouta turned to see a lanky man with brownish hair and a narrow, rattish face standing slouched behind him with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his grubby jeans.

“Potentially,” Yamada replied. “You’re Raimaru?” His impression of Shouta’s voice was dead-on, which was bad enough on its own, but there was something just slightly off about his intonation that made Shouta’s skin crawl.

“That’s what they call me,” the man said. ”Getcha a refill while we talk?” he added, nodding at Shouta’s obviously untouched beer.

“I’m fine, thanks.” Shouta fiddled with the neck of the bottle to make it seem less like a static prop on the table in front of him. Even if Yamada had been against the idea of giving him a script to follow, some guidance on what to do in general might have been nice. He felt stiff and awkward, like a puppet whose puppeteer only had a vague idea of how natural movements worked.

“Suit yourself,” Raimaru shrugged. He ambled off to talk to the bartender, seeming to be doing his best to chat her up as she mixed his drink.

“‘Null’?” Shouta muttered to Yamada.

“Short for ‘nullify’, like your Quirk. Get it?” When Shouta just sighed in reply, Yamada added defensively, “Well, I had to call you something, didn’t I?”

“Did you?”

“What did you want me to say, ‘oh by the by you’ll be meeting my friend Shouta Aizawa, he’s thirty, single, a Scorpio, and lives in a single-occupancy uptown with three cats’?” Yamada retorted.

He technically had a point and Shouta hated that the most out of all the things he hated about this evening so far. Yamada had no time to gloat over the win, however, as Raimaru came back and dropped onto the stool across from Shouta.

“Kind of a hassle, having to be the face of cleaning up all of your boss’s bad behavior, huh? From what I’ve heard he’s got plenty to go around,” Raimaru said. Shouta privately agreed with the sentiment, but Yamada snorted instead.

“I get paid to go where I’m told, not to pass judgements,” Yamada replied stiffly. Shouta resisted the urge to roll his eyes at the defensive bluster. Raimaru laughed for him.

“I dunno about that. There’s plenty of judgement to go around if you want some,” Raimaru said. “Seems like the only books he can get into these days are peoples’ bad ones.”

“You think he gives a damn about anyone’s books other than his own?”

“I’m just saying I know a glorywhore when I see one. He spends all of his time making deals and playing nice and then suddenly people higher than him start going to jail,” Raimaru said. “Happened to Fukawa, happened to Seguchi, happened to Iwata. Hell, everyone knows he snitched and got Hanajima back in the day but Hanajima got shanked in prison and all his men scattered so nobody talks about him anymore.”

Shouta squirrelled the names away to research later, though other than those names Raimaru had said precious little to convince him that he knew much of anything besides Yamada’s surface reputation. So far his assertions had been vague at best and his “work, am I right?” tone was suspiciously chummy, like he was trying to nudge “Null” into letting something incriminating slip out.

“Why is any of this relevant?” Yamada asked. He sounded equally short on patience with Raimaru’s unsubtle attempts at currying favor. Raimaru gave a slightly passive-aggressive shrug.

“There’s a storm coming. A big one, one that’s gonna hit hard and rewrite a lot of rules about who’s in charge and who’s got a boot on their necks. You’re not gonna be in a great spot if you’re working for the Bird, so I thought you’d wanna know there’s better options,” he said. It was the first thing he’d said that sounded like he actually knew what he was talking about and it was not a reassuring change. Yamada, however, seemed unfazed.

“What, some new jumped-up ‘super’ villain with big plans for a criminal utopia?” Yamada said, unimpressed. “Seen ‘em come, seen ‘em go, nothing of value was lost. You asked me to come here because you had something valuable you wanted to trade. Is that still the case, or should I head out and stick you with the tab for wasting my time?”

“So, that’s a ‘no’ from you?” Raimaru asked, still grinning like someone had wired the corners of his mouth behind his ears.

“I didn’t hear a question being asked, but…” All of a sudden Yamada’s voice trailed off in a fizzle of static. Shouta tensed. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at Yamada, who met his eye with a look that was not quite panic but was very, very close to it. Yamada tapped his ear questioningly. Shouta twitched his head to the side in a negative. He saw Yamada mouth “Shit!” before his attention snapped back to the problem in front of him as Raimaru let out a short chuckle.

“Never a good idea to use radio signals around me,” Raimaru said smugly. “They usually end up a little...dead.” He casually brought the hand that had been under the table to rest on its surface. It was holding a large pocket knife, which he casually flicked open and closed as he spoke. All of the plastic had been stripped off of the knife, leaving behind just the blades and metal guts holding them together. As Shouta eyed it, the blade began to glow a smokey orange around Raimaru’s fingertips.

“I think we’re done here,” Shouta said, trying to match the off-cadence way Yamada had been using his voice all night.

This only seemed to egg Raimaru on, however, as he cranked his Quirk up another notch. Shouta felt a static prickling like the kind before a huge lightning strike setting the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck on end. A tinny shrilling feedback noise whined through his earpiece, making him jolt and hiss in sudden pain. Shouta gritted his teeth and set his own Quirk on Raimaru instead. A hasty decision, it turned out, as a sudden crash of noise hit him all at once. Yamada’s voice half-shouting in his ear was interlaced with loud snaps of static as the equipment reconnected. Shouta winced at the onslaught, clapping a hand to his ear before he could stop himself. The moment of distraction was all Raimaru needed.

“So the Bird’s doggy wants to bark, huh?” In one fluid motion Raimaru threw what was left in his glass in Shouta’s eyes and hooked a foot under the bottom rung of Shouta’s stool, yanking it from under him. Shouta toppled to the floor, landing hard on his ass and elbows as he futilely tried to catch himself as he fell. He blinked hard, tears streaming as his eyes burned with whatever had been in that glass. Raimaru grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him partially upright.

“Things could have gone better for you, but it looks like the Bird just likes making things difficult,” Raimaru said.

Shouta dug his fingers into Raimaru’s wrist, trying to wrestle himself free. Raimaru smirked, a violent shock sparking off of his skin and into Shouta’s arm. Shouta let out a bark of agony as his entire arm below the shoulder seized and went numb. Someone else’s hand, large and thick-fingered, ripped his back by the forearm, twisting his hand back and up between his shoulder blades. Shouta stiffened. He hadn’t heard Takeshiro or his wife approaching during the scuffle but it was obvious now they had him surrounded. He thought of the alley and the way they had closed ranks around Yamada, accounting for every avenue of escape except for a one-in-a-million outside intervention. Shouta darted a look over to Yamada. Their eyes met for a split second that lasted an eon. Yamada’s eyes were wide and his face had gone deathly pale as he took in the scene in front of him. He was frozen half in motion, caught between breaking cover to come help and his desire to steer clear of Takeshiro and Hebiko. Shouta’s stomach sank as Yamada dropped his gaze, hunching in on himself and pulling his hat down farther to hide his face.

“Last chance, doggy,” Raimaru said. “That signal was too weak to come from very far away. Point us in the right direction and we’ll let you go, no hard feelings. Otherwise we send you back to your master in pieces.”

He leaned in as he threatened, and Shouta took the opportunity to show him how close was too close. Shouta reared back, then rammed his forehead into Raimaru’s nose at full force. As Raimaru reeled back, Shouta slammed himself back into Takeshiro, sending the man spine-first into the edge of a table. Takeshiro grunted in pain and Shouta twisted away from his grasp as Takeshiro tried to catch himself. Raimaru sank his fist into Shouta’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him, but Shouta managed to activate his Quirk again before Raimaru could shock him. Shouta retaliated with a sharp hook, jamming his fist into Raimaru’s solar plexus with as much force as he could muster. As Raimaru doubled over Shouta grabbed a fistful of his hair and slammed him face-first into the table.

“All right, ENOUGH!” the bartender yelled. She was floating above the bar with a warning look on her face, a thin metal pipe leveled at Shouta’s head. Shouta looked from her to Takeshiro and Hebiko, who had backed off behind their table again, to Raimaru, who was staring up from under his hand with undisguised disgust as he bled onto the table. Shouta took a moment to catch his breath, then released Raimaru. Not bothering to see if Yamada would follow, Shouta took the moment of peace to walk out of the bar.

The night air was cold and made his face feel closed in and sticky under the mask. Shouta jerked it down under his chin, sucking in a hard breath. The adrenaline in his veins felt like a cloying, choking compulsion to just run, escape, flee as fast as he could in any direction that would count as away. His lungs burned nearly as badly as his eyes, every new breath feeling like a sharp stab in the chest. A strange itching slightly farther down his abdomen joined the pain in his chest as he half-sprinted down the sidewalk. Shouta looked down and froze mid-step. The bare metal handle of Raimaru’s knife stuck out of his stomach at an almost perfect perpendicular angle, jammed in so far that the tip was pressing the rough kevlar of his stab vest against his flesh.

“Ho-ly shit that was a whole bunch of something.” Shouta didn’t look up from the knife almost in his gut as Yamada’s voice crowed out behind him. He felt Yamada digging in his pocket and retrieving the cell phone. “Could have gone better for sure, but also could have gone worse.” Yamada gave Shouta a cheery smack on the shoulder. “You and I make a pretty good team, huh? C’mon, let’s go find a nicer place to grab a bite and hang out until things die down.”

He paused like he fully expected Shouta to agree and follow after him, but Shouta was barely listening. His mind was still trying to process the knife handle sticking out of his stomach. The night “could have gone worse”? Raimaru had almost made good on the threat to send Shouta home in pieces while Yamada cowered in a corner booth, more worried about being seen than being helpful, and Yamada was congratulating himself for a job well done.

“Aizawa? Earth to Aizawa? Hey, are you okay? You’re shaking.” There was a note of real concern in Yamada’s voice as he reached out a hand to steady the trembling in Shouta’s body.

The idea of Yamada making any kind of physical contact snapped the last bit of sane civility Shouta had left in him. True fury, hot and fast and scraped raw by everything that was running through Shouta’s head, boiled over in his chest. He swung wildly at Yamada, hoping to make contact but hoping more just to fend him off as violently as possible. Yamada yelped and jumped backwards, hands coming up to protect himself.

“Whoa! What the hell--?” Yamada began, but Shouta was already swinging again. He wanted to make Yamada bleed, make him feel even half as agonized and afraid as he did right now. Yamada stumbled away from him, eyes wide in shock and confusion. His back hit the brick wall of a building and Shouta got right up in his face, Quirk blazing and teeth bared in a hateful snarl as he spoke.

“Let me be clear with this, so maybe you’ll hear it over the sound of your own voice,” Shouta said between clenched teeth. “We are not partners. We do not make a good team. We are sure as fuck not friends who hang out. You are a problem in my life that I am trying to solve. Get that through your thick skull and stop acting like we’re in this together.” He pulled the knife out and threw it violently at Yamada’s feet before turning on his heel and striding away as fast as his legs could carry him.

As soon as he staggered into his apartment and secured every lock and deadbolt on his door Shouta stripped down, dumping everything he’d been wearing in a heap in the entryway. Ignoring his cats’ cries for attention, Shouta went straight to the bathroom and ran the shower as hot as he could stand it. He could feel himself shaking now, the dregs of adrenaline making his legs weak rather than holding him up any longer. He sat down in his tub with the scalding water beating against his back, arms wrapped around himself. He looked down and saw a long irritated scratch rising on his stomach where the knife had dragged against him through the vest. Shouta let out a long, unsteady breath and closed his eyes. He’d been a vigilante for long enough to know that it meant going without any kind of help when things went from bad to worse to potentially lethal; until now not even his worst cases had shaken him like this. But those times he’d known the risk going in and taking it on had been his choice, which made all the difference. Yamada had known, though. Yamada had known they should have bailed as soon as their worst case scenario walked in the pub’s doors and he’d used Shouta as a human shield to try to get what he wanted anyway. Shouta gritted his teeth, nails digging into his palms as his hands balled into fists. He shouldn’t have expected anything less from someone like Yamada.

Never again, Shouta thought as he roughly toweled off. Yamada could keep his favors and his trade secrets and all the rest of it. He’d need all the help he could get, because as far as Shouta was concerned Yamada was on his own from this moment on.