#though!!!! place your bets guys!!! who do you think would become canon first

[deus-ex-mona]

kthn 🤝 lxl “it has to be you; apart from you, no one else would do”

[flowerpotmage]

Hi what are your headcanons for modern Aemond when it comes to marriage? Do you think he would ever get marry after seeing his mother unhappy with his father or he would just be the kind of guy who will never commit to one person in fear he would end up as unhappy as his parents? Also, I kinda see him as a person who won't want to become a father, being aware that he has no role model and therefore he will suck at it. Modern Aemond will have no need to have children of him own, I magine him as children's favourite uncle, but not having children himself. He will be too self aware to bring child into this world knowing all his faults and what he lacks.

tbh I havent given much thought to modern!aemond. the headcanon i posted about the hole in the wall restaurant only came to me because i got sushi and was like "omg i bet aemond would like bougie sushi restaurants. omg he'd actually probably really enjoy all different kinds of restaurants bc he'd enjoy the food for its own sake and get all poetic about it as an art and blablabla"

BUT, since you asked, i'll put my thinkers on, and say i can kinda see what you're saying. i don't think he'd have much drive or desire to be a parent at all, and probably only starts thinking about it once he's older than he is now (canon age late teens/early twenties, even though when i write him he's always in his mid 20s in my mind) and more independent and happy with himself. i think he wouldnt be necessarily resistant or actively against it once he's in his mid-late 40s and beyond, but he'd want to be with someone that it felt really right to coparent with

on the other hand. i can actually TOTALLY see him being open to being a stepdad, or making an effort with someone else's kids if he was seeing someone who was already a parent. i think he would have very good boundaries about his place as an outsider to the kid at first, and always defer to the child's parent, until maybe they got more committed and he had a pretty good understanding of what they want and how they parent. i don't think he'd try to take any authority as a late addition to the family that wasn't explicitly given to him.

but this is like. i couldnt see early/mid 20s aemond being like this, at the youngest i think he'd be in his late 20s when he becomes open to dating someone with a kid, even if he's hesitant about his place in an existing family

[mamitomoesyandereblog]

Hi! Thank you so much for the writing I love it! I hope your doing good and taking care of yourself. Could I ask for a !Yandere human! Kyubey? If you’d rather not make him human than platonic? A scenario or head canon works just fine!

Of course! I apologize you had to wait this long anon, I'll try to reply quicker in the future. I actually was almost done with the headcannons but lost the draft, which is really annoying because I have to do everything over again-

Tw;

Yandere stuff , unusual behaviour, emotional instability, unhealthy relationship, mentions of death

I don't support this kind of actions or behaviour in any way; this is just fiction and should remain fiction.

(Spoilers For Puella Magi Madoka Magica ahead)

❣️Yandere! (Human) Kyubey x Reader❣️

So when I first got this ask I went "This is so interesting!! How do I make Kyubey a human though?" and then suddenly came up with an idea- Maybe it doesn't make complete sense but it's better than nothing (• ▽ •;)

So you and your friend come across him while you're walking home from school. He asks the both of you to become magical girls/magical in general by making a wish. It takes about a week for you and your friend to process everything and decide. Your friend makes a contract with him, while you decided to turn down his offer.

Then chaos starts. Your friend struggles to keep up with real life and her magical girl duties, slowly driving herself insane. You see her almost die multiple times already; and you can't do anything about it. And in the end...she turns into a witch before your very eyes. You're lucky to be saved by a magical girl who was passing by.

And you're full of anger.

Kyubey never mentioned anything about that while talking about the whole contract. He didn't do anything to prevent this. So you snap at him and he, as calm as ever, tells you the truth behind everything. About his kind, the reason Magical Girls existed in the first place. It makes your blood boil.

So you make a contract with him. Your wish is for him to become a Magical Girl, or rather Magical boy, as well. Then he can feel the pain your friend felt; then he can truly taste his own poison.

🐰 When Kyubey is suddenly turned into a human he panics. Maybe not on the outside but in the inside. He starts feeling so many things at once and it's overwhelming. Were those emotions? He shouldn't be feeling any emotions. It's not right, he shouldn't feel anything.

🐰 You could either leave him on his own to figure out everything or let him stay with you. On the one hand; you're still incredibly angry. On the other hand you're a magical girl/boy/magical in general too now so you need a teammate. Finding that other Magical Girl who saved you would take too long so you're pretty much stuck with him.

🐰 Kyubey as a human would probably look around your age (which is above 13 for obvious reasons) and keep the colour of his eyes. I imagine his hair being rather fluffy and white coloured with a bit of faint red at the edge. As much as I don't like Kyubey; I bet that he'd look pretty charming.

🐰 Even though he's now a human he still has some supernatural abilities such as telepathic communication, teleporting and disposing of grief seeds. He just eats them now-

🐰 Since you're stuck with him you try to teach him about emotions but it doesn't exactly work. He doesn't get the purpose or reason emotions exist even though he can now feel them himself. At first he'd act the same as before; cold and emotionless. However he'd still be able to feel everything.

🐰 You guys train and kill witches together, which tires him quite easily. He never imagined being a magical girl would be this hard since he was always in the background watching or simply giving advice. It kind of gets him thinking...was their offer really unfair?

🐰 At some point you almost die during battle. He manages to finish the witch on his own but quickly runs to you. He doesn't really know how human bodies work or how to help, so he simply uses both your and his soul gems in hopes of healing you in time. For the first time in his whole existence he feels genuinely scared and worried about another being.

🐰 That's when his yandere tendencies start. Once your healed and everything he's going to become rather clingy, always staying close to you no matter what. He never admitted it but he started enjoying your company a few weeks after he was turned into a human. And then maybe he starts feeling a new emotion...one that he's never heard of. One that makes him feel weird and his heart beat fast everytime when you're around.

🐰 He'll most likely ask you about it and if things get awkward between the two of you after that he'll be upset. He doesn't get why you seem uncomfortable by his presence and walk away after talking for like one minute with him. You never even bother explain it to him. The only time you're willing to communicate with him for more than that is during battle now and he doesn't like it.

🐰 He's going to confront you one day, whether you like it or not. But how your talk ends depends on how you feel about him. If you explain to him that new emotion and that you don't feel the same he'll be confused and..sad. He couldn't really understand what that emotion is even after you've explained it to him. The only thing he understood is that it means you want someone be with you and be happy. Although he can't blame you for not wanting him to be happy after everything.

🐰 He'll definitely apologize for you at some point; it may take some time for him to fully see things your way but once he does he's going to feel sorry. The thing is though...he doesn't exactly feel sorry because your friend turned into a witch or all the pain she went through. He feels sorry because he's simply scared you're going to be mad at him forever.

🐰 I bet some of you guessed it but that's because of your wish. By making a wish you also assign yourself a curse; especially if that wish has to do with someone else and not yourself. Kyubey is a human now and he does have feelings but only for you. He doesn't feel sympathy for other Magical Girls or anyone in general despite being a Magical boy himself. And those feelings are only going to grow stronger.

🐰 He gets more and more clingy, his emotions growing stronger and uncontrollable. And worst of all; you assigned them to him. You dug your grave two times because not only you're a magical girl but you also have a boy who grows even more possessive and overprotective as your teammate.

🐰 Once you start realising that it's already too late. You can't take your wish back and you can't make his emotions simply disappear. Soon he won't even let you talk with other friends or family members. Every emotion he has: anger, sadness, happiness, love is driven to the extreme in the end. Was taking revenge really worth it?

And that's all! I'm sorry that there wasn't that much wholesomeness in this but you've seen how creepy Kyubey can be in the manga. I decided to take advantage of that >:)

(And once again I'm really really sorry you had to wait this long dear anon, I'm sorry if you were disappointed ^^")

Requests are always open and I'll see you guys another time! Have a wonderful day/night and remember to take care of yourself! 💞💕

[natsukitakama]

Being in relationship with Gojo Satoru would include

Author note : got nothing to say about it. I’m his personal hoe even though I’m aware about what Gege-sama said. Let’s say I can’t be saved. It’s too late for that LMAO. Anyway let me know if you enjoy this ♡ (also I changed my head canon’s page setting how does it looks ?) 

Warning : slight nsfw / me simping over a man that would definetly not give me time / also I didn’t catch up with the manga (Japan’s scan cause we’re kinda late in France) 

Update : I didn’t say it obviously I do not own that gif credit to the owner(s) 🙏🏻

Masterlist

Request are Open

a lot of work. 

As Gege said themselves they didn’t see Gojo being faithful or interest on a relationship (still hurt btw) 

But why ?

If we look carefully we can see that his relationship with every superior are pretty densed : he is absolutely against his own cast and I won’t be surprised that he is pretty distant with his family and the member of his clan. Which mean basically they’re not so much people who are closed to him 

He didn’t allow them to be close 

Again since he tends to be pretty narcissistic and is not afraid to threat everyone that might be against him cursed or not. 

So let’s say he got couple of ennemies. 

Then I remembered his first interaction (or at least of the first he got) with Yuta. We all remember what happened to that girl he was so deeply in love, remember what Gojo said ? He actually said that in his opinion love might be the worst cursed or something like that. Meaning he is aware about how dangerous love can be. 

So here’s the thing it’s not like he is not faithful (even though he is into one night stand) but he can’t allow himself to fall himself nor will he let someone falls for him. Because they will became an easy target, they will become his worst weakness. 

Especially since he is super busy it would mean that he couldn’t be with you whenever he wants to.  

So that would explain why he is not really into relationship cause he knows it would be dangerous for him. 

Also I don’t believe he was raised with love, I’m pretty sure he wasn’t closed or never seen any act of love so he is pretty cold about it cause he is used to. 

In addition his personnality is ... well he is piece of works. So it’s not that easy to fall in love with him (I mean deeply in love not just being attracted to his physics) and it’s difficult to make him falls in love too. (It would be for another headcanon) 

But now let’s pretend you went through his childish nature and he let you get to know him and boom you’re started a relationship with him 

He is clingy asf you know that 99% of the time he is walking not giving a single shit about people think about him. That man is so confident he knows no one would dare criticize him for being a clingy or boyfriends and if they do it He would claim that they are just jealous of him. 

Even if he is super chill about everything he would never broke any of your boundary. So if you’re comfortable with him hugging you in public or giving you a deep kiss that’s fine he will keep it for later. 

But that won’t stop that little shit for teasing you. Oh no. It’s even worst if you are shy, oh god he would do anything just to see your cheeks getting red. He just loves it. It’s addictive. 

Cause let’s be real, if he actually started a relationship with you was because he was way too addicted. Your relationship probably started with some one night stand that wasn’t just one but sssh. Then you started to hang out together not dating calling that a date because you guys didn’t want to put a name on it. Then both of you started to be territorial and get upset when one of you flirted with another. It last until You and Gojo couldn’t just sleep or think without being close together. 

He is like a sweet drug you know ? Once you got a bite you can’t just stop. Same way for him as soon as you got him, you won’t be able a le to keep away. 

That also explain why he is clingy he just has to touch you, simple touch deep touch intimate touch he doesn’t care all he needs was you close to him. 

When you guys became serious (put a name on it cause you were already a couple but whatever) the man became even more noisy if that’s even possible. 

He praises you a lot not matter what job you have what passion you’re followed anything. You’re just the best S/O of the entire world. 

Also he show off a lot cause everyone thought Nanami would the first to be in a relationship with a S/O  but he failed 

And oh boy does Gojo loves that. 

He can’t help but remind EVERYONE (including his students of those coming from kyoto) that he is dating you

« Aaah can’t wait to be home I bet Y/N would make those delicious cookies of them. It’s so good to go home to find your beloved. Oh yeah you can’t know that you don’t have a S/O so sad »

You little shit 

As I previously said he tends to not be around that much because of his jobs, but that’s okay he would make it up one way or another. 

I know some people believes that he will take his S/O to the greatest restaurant, or into those luxurious places. It’s true sometimes he just find you to have a good quality time but he also wants to spoil you so it’s good way to do it. 

But most of the time I think he might be into those private date when you’re into a little cafe or having a picnic. Again I don’t think he had the chance to enjoy those private moment with his family when you’re just enjoying the people you loved in the simple way. And he just loves seeing you cook for him it stroke his ego and melt his heart. 

I heard somewhere that he might be touch starved and I agree with that postulate. I do believe he wasn’t raised with love and tenderness so that would explain why he could be so touchy-feely with people and so that’s explain why he is clingy. 

He is definetly into carrying and simple person, he is just a giant baby he loves being taken care of he wants to have your attention 24/7, that’s just who he is. When i said simple,it’s more like not superficial cause he won’t tolerate that he hates when people has the audacity to lie in front of his face or believes they can manipulate him. 

A lot of people tends to think he is stupid or easily to use because of his childish behavior and he hates that. He has a huge ego. 

So he won’t like it if you’re trying to get something from him. If you want to say something just say it. 

Even if he is huge tease he would never judge you or make fun of you (not in a mean way) so he expects you to be blunt about your feelings. If you think he is an idiot for always keeping everything for himself tell him. 

If his S/O is a civilian he might not talk about the jujutsu world at first but then when he realized he was bound to them. Like he couldn’t breath without you he would tell you the truth. 

He kiss a lot. I’m not making the rules he just kiss very easily and each of them have a meaning. Cheeks kiss is to ask you something like buying an ice cream when it’s 4AM (use it with his best puppies eyes cause the fucker knows his effects on you). Nose kiss are like morning kiss, he tends to do it a lot after sex too it’s just another way for him to say I love you but in a cute way. Head kiss is to reassure you that everything would be fine, it’s also his way to comfort you when you’re sad it’s always followed by an « everything would be fine » or « I’m here now it’s okay ». Kiss on your lips could be a way to tempt you for sex who goes along with a bite of your lips of a stroke of your hair, but his kiss on your lips could also be his way to remind you how much he loves and how much he miss you. 

But no worry he is not afraid to tell you he loves you, but he just kept those works for special moment. 

He hugs a lot. From behind when you’re cooking for him, cuddle you while watching a movie or put you against his chest so you would climb around his body like a koala 

Nest your face against his neck and he would melt right now. The feeling of your breath against his skin damn he got shivers all the time 

Time to time don’t forget to stroke his ego like cuddling him and tell him how good you feel like you feel safe. He needs time to time (also even if he might tease you a little bit, do that and you’ll get extra kiss and cuddle time)

Also he can’t say no to you. Puppy eyes are useless just took his hand and ask him slowly to do something and he would do it. 

The problem is you can’t say no to him too. Cause 1) he is super convincing when he wants to 2) because he knows you can’t say no to his pretty face especially his eyes 3) and if you’re fighting his attraction over you he would use puppy eyes on you. So either way he got what he wants. 

You guys definetly got some « sweet » dates at 4 AM : like he just woke up because he dreamt about those delicious mocchi he tastes when he first met Itadori and now all he could think about was those mocchi. So he got you at 4AM to buy and share some mocchi together. Even though you hated being woke up like this you couldn’t help but enjoy the fact that he woke you up so you could share a meal together 

It comes from nowhere but you guys have sex a lot. He is horny it’s written on his face I can’t change that. He is intoxicated he can’t help it but need to feel you clinching around his dick, bitting your lips and scratching his back as he thrust into your core. 

He daydreams a lot and 99% it’s not pure at all

He sext you a lot even during a meeting, he just took his phone and text you about how boring the meeting is and how he wish he could just ravage you in front of them so they would shut up for once. 

He is pretty open about everything when it came to sex it’s not like you can break him or anything but he loves it every time you came to him asking for something you might want to try but be afraid he won’t be agree or might hurt him.

It’s so cute that you thought you could hurt him physically 

Somehow he managed you to have sex in his office which you were kinda up to it but he also convinced you to do it on a car as soon as ljichi left for a call. He can’t help it you were just so cute so tempting looking like this by his side and well he is into semi-public sex he just don’t give up a fuck LMAO who’s gonna say yell at him anyway ? He is THE Gojo Satoru. 

Not sure if I said it before but he won’t mind dating a simple human, he is just so bitter about everything his world is a mess so it’s fine that he can’t be normal, just man hanging around the personne he loves without thinking about his position about his clan, the cursed. Just couple of hours during his day where is just your boyfriend, he cherish that. 

It doesn’t mean he won’t date an exorcist, but it might be even more difficult since he can’t help but wondering if you’re actually into him (which is hard considering his antics) or if you’re into his position. But if you managed to show him that you actually didn’t care about the whole clan, position and everything yeah he would be into you. It would be more simple cause he can be with you 24/7 or at least as much as possible, and protect you even though you don’t actually need someone to take care of you. He just has to do it. 

He spoils a lot, remember how easily he would book a restaurant for his students ? Same things it’s even worse cause sometimes during a mission he walked around a new street and it’s like « damn that’s look yummy » and after being sure nothing could harm you (especially if you’re allergic of If you a vegan or veggies) he would book a reservation and then took you on a date. 

He does that a lot, since he can’t manage to have quality time as much as he wanted he just does things like that so you can share a meal together and also because he can tease you during the whole night then teleport both of you into his house for « sport » activity. 

Also he tends to buy some many things, like he could walked in Tokyo and see a grandma selling some candle he would buy it just because it seemed aesthetic for him, and now everytime he saw something that reminds him of you he buys it. So you guys got plenty of things that you can’t throw away since Gojo linked them with a memory of you. 

Speaking of things who belongs to you, he wears your clothes and you wears his, remember how easily he wore Nobara’s skirt he is pretty skinny he can wear anything and won’t bother asking you first. Just get used to it cause he doesn’t plan on giving up. 

I do believe that a relationship with you force him to be more « mature » or at least not always acting like a child. But let’s be real he would still act like a baby you sign for this. 

In the end it’s an healthy relationship even though he tends to be flirty sometimes, he would be careful if he noticed that you’re not comfortable, or he would make sure to reminds you that he is actually in love with you, he won’t go anywhere. No matter if you’re an exorcist or not, you would still be afraid that one day he won’t comeback, so he makes sure to spoil you, love you to erase that fear. He is the strongest and doesn’t plan on leaving you soon. 

[zuzusexytiems]

An Incomplete List of Jeanpiku/Fingerstein Headcanons bc I'm multishipper trash 🥺👉👈

(I borrowed some of these from my own Jeanmarco headcanons I'm so sorry iufhusudi) (JEAN IS JUST A REALLY SHIPPABLE CHARACTER, OKAY. LIKE THAT'S NOT MY FAULT)

Jean is the neat freak between the two of them. Pieck would leave socks and old shirts lying all over the floor and she barely does the dishes unless she's asked. It drives Jean insane (He still loves her, though.)

Yeah, Jean may be canonically 6'2 as of season 4, and Pieck may be canonically 5 foot flat but you can bet that Jean is still the little spoon, height difference be damned

Jean sings in the shower. He's terrible at it, but it's still Pieck's favorite thing in the world.

Jean knows Pieck's measurements by heart. Whenever he'd have to go on a trip somewhere and he sees something he thinks Pieck might like, he'd automatically go up to the shopkeeper and ask: "Hey um, excuse me, do you have this dress in this size? It's for my wife, she'd love this."

Like. Holy shit just imagine him walking with some Super Serious Former Survey Corps Generals and they pass by a dress shop or a hat shop and Jean has  to excuse himself because "Oh wait, I'm so sorry, could you hold on for one moment?" because you know he needs that yellow sundress for his wife uidshfjoisd

Jean kind of becomes infamous at work for being that One Dude Who's Obsessed With His Wife. They've heard of Pieck Finger of course, infamous war veteran and former Cart Titan, but all they know of her is that she has long, dark hair, so they always imagine some conventionally boring beautiful woman who's all prim and proper

So when they formally meet her for the first time, internally everyone is just like "????????????????????? This is it???????"

And Jean would just introduce Pieck like "Ladies and gentlemen, the most beautiful woman in the world: My wife."

And then Pieck does exactly this:

They wouldn't DARE say shit about her but whenever Jean's not around they'd be like, "man, he really loves her, though. Wish my wife/husband and I had something like that."

Jean isn't dumb, though. He knows Pieck isn't your typical head-over-heels boring conventionally sexy kind of woman, but that's exactly why he loves her.

(For the longest time and because he's really really dumb, Jean tried his damned hardest not to fall in love with Pieck because he used to be afraid of what people would say. He had a very stern talking to by Armin and Reiner after this. He gives in eventually and falls for her before he could even stop it).

Similarly at Pieck's place of work, everybody can barely believe that the Pieck Finger, who still crawls on floors and never brushes her hair, is married to the Former Commanding Officer of the Survey Corps, Jean Kirschtein

I would think people swoon over Jean in general (I mean come on, we've all seen him) and a lot of them always ask Pieck stuff like "omg so what is it like being married to the Commanding Officer?! He's sooo hot omg you're so lucky!!!"

And conversely Pieck would always be like "????????? wtf are you guys talking about he's the hugest dork I've ever met" (she's right)

Pieck is really attuned to Jean's moods. In their relationship, he's the more sensitive one, and Pieck can read him like the back of her hand. He gets into these spells some days, especially when he thinks about Marco, and Pieck knows this is when he needs his space, unless he asks. They've gotten better at communicating with each other over the years.

Pieck is the opposite: When she gets into one of her spells–especially when she thinks about the war, and especially when she thinks about Porco, Udo, Colt, and Zofia, she goes straight to Jean immediately and tells him she isn't okay. They spend the day together, Jean pampering her head to toe and just overall reassuring her that he's here, he isn't going anywhere, and that everything is going to be okay.

They aren't very into PDA in public, but they do always hold hands when they're out and about, like when they buy their weekly groceries in the market or whenever they have errands they need to run together

They get suuuuper touchy feely when they're around ppl they're comfortable with, though. Jean, Pieck, and the rest of the squad get together from time to time, maybe at least once a week, and they go out for drinks and or just chill at one of the 104th's houses. During these times, Jean and Pieck would be engaging in some small form of physical contact or another, even when they're talking to other people: Pieck would be sitting on Jean's lap and she'd be casually talking to Reiner until Jean gets a butt cramp. Or Jean would be sitting on a couch while Armin discusses work, and Pieck would just be standing behind him rubbing his shoulders absentmindedly. 

Neither of them are aware that they do this until Reiner calls them out on it one day–when Pieck has her chin on Jean's head and her arms across his shoulders–"Oh my god guys, get a fucking room ijksdhfsd"

Pieck, genuinely confused: Uhhh...we're not doing anything?

Reiner: You're being gross with the whole *gestures to Pieck's chin on Jean's head*

Armin: ??? Annie and I do that all the time though, how come you never say anything when we do it?

Jean: Because Annie would beat him to a pulp and he prefers having his limbs still attached to him lmao

Annie: Don't mind Reiner he's just bitter af bc Historia's married.

Reiner: I hate all of you ihefiuskjdhfsj (he doesn't. He's a giant softie)

Pieck and Jean both snore like it's nobody's business. Whenever the squad goes out of town for a vacation and they need to rent a communal cottage or a villa, nobody ever gets any sleep because it always sounds like bloody murder even with the door closed

PIeck and Jean get married some time in their late twenties and have a baby boy named Marco.

^Yeah I know I've written about this already in one of my fics but it's canon okay

I also may or may not have written a little ficlet about how they fall in love here 🥺👉👈

FINGERSTEIN BRAINROT GO BRRRRRRRR

[stxleslyds]

It seems like you have a negative opinion on all non-Winick characterizations of Jason in the comics. But do you hate them all equally? Could you rank all non-Winick comic depictions of Jason from best to worst characterization? Or maybe give them a letter grade?

Hi friend! This is a bit funny to me because I really didn’t expect people to be so vocal about me being such an annoying person when it comes to Jason’s characterizations. I can’t promise that I won’t complain anymore but I will try to be kinder.

But I won’t start right now, because I really want to make this ranking, it will go from best to absolute worst! I bet you guys won’t know who is in the deepest circle in hell! Place your bets everyone!

This is the level that gives me joy! (Yup, I put a writer that only wrote ten pages of Jason content as the best, please don’t call me out on it).

Matthew Rosenberg: I love him and I love what he has done with Jason, I have only read ten pages of his work while writing Jason and he already has me hooked. Like I said in that one ask/post, I think he will make some amazing things with the Jason that we have now and I still believe that. Little shit and competent Jason Todd, I am glad you are here.

Peter Tomasi: This one is a little checky because his run is out of comics canon, but his Arkham Knight Jason Todd and the way he wrote his origin are absolutely stunning.

Marv Wolfman: His Robin Jason was really good and I am really glad that we had those comics in which we could see Jason in an environment that didn’t include Batman. I was like looking at what Jason could have been if he had stayed with the Titans’ instead of keep on being Robin in Gotham with Batman.

This is the level in which I can still like some things about the story even though in general I didn’t enjoy the book.

Joshua Williamson: Yeah, but he is only here because his story seemed interesting, my issue as I have said before is his subplot “romance” and the fact that he seems to be the kind of writer that wants to push the “Batfamily” dynamic. Otherwise, his Jason characterization when it came to him not liking working for the Magistrate was really good, sadly it was overshadowed by all the bad that I just really didn’t enjoy at all

Chip Zdarsky: Tyler (Blue Hood) and Jason working to rid Gotham of a drug really brought me back to the good old days. I also really liked seeing the parallels between Jason and his mom with Tyler and his own mother, it felt like a good way to start a connection and develop a Red Hood story. Sadly, the book as a whole was shit and it ended horribly but there were some interesting moments.

Now we are looking at the level where I just wonder: Why?

Paul Dini: Why? His Jason really did a 360, and I meant it, I really don’t know what the point of Jason taking the mantle of another dead Jason was. His Red Robin was just a Red Hood in a different suit and that was that. I understand that they wanted to kill him because he was an anomaly and all that but, he just really felt out of place in that event. This was the first warning: Jason Todd/Red Hood only works on a street-level, stop trying to make everyone dimension jump and all that DC.

Bruce Jones: Hey! I forgot about this guy in the last post! He sucks! And his arc in Nightwing is the epitome of the question: Why? I get it, DiDio wanted to kill Dick and then have Jason take over as Nightwing but Dick didn’t die at the end of Infinite Crisis, he was still alive there was no reason to have Jason dress up as Nightwing and going on a killing spree, also, the tentacles? Really? Annoying and weird.

Scott Snyder and Tim Seeley: I ask why but I know why. This was a desperate attempt to use Jason in stories because they couldn’t use Dick Grayson. It was also weird because being there only pushed him more towards the Bat-Clan even though he had his Outlaws team going on. It was just weird and they were also big on unnecessary “romances”.

This is the Skrull Jason level. Here I see, hear and feel no Jason Todd.

Grant Morrison: Grant needed a villain and all they could come up with was this weird as red-haired-pill-headed-Red Hood and DC said “sure, why not?”. There is no real way to find UtRH Jason in this version of Jason and that for me is a little bit better than still seeing the Jason that I loved in whatever this was.

Tony S. Daniel: This one sucks the most because it isn’t that Jason is unrecognizable its just that Jason is the exact opposite of who he would have become. Everything about this Jason seems to come from the Upside Down. Him saying that Gotham needs Batman so he will be Batman and he needs a Robin was the wildest take that I have seen about Jason. I have no other words for it.

Hell.

James Tynion IV: whoever invited this man to this party needs to understand that they made a big mistake. All Tynion did was overpower the living hell out of Jason for a fight that wasn’t big enough to become a Batman/Red Hood event. The fight was so lame and so stupid, if Jason had learned the ancient martial arts move in the All-Castle and the used that and the All-Blades to defeat Ra’s it would have been more than enough, but in New 52 writers really wanted to make Jason look like the most experienced and best at being a hero when Kory and Roy were standing next to him.

Scott Lobdell: He sucks, New 52 was just terrible, there was nothing that I liked from it, character assassination for everyone, nobody was treated well there. He wrote a self-insert version of Jason and it was noticeable because Jason was trash in New 52. Rebirth was better but that didn’t make things better for Jason because Lobdell started to fuel the “Jason was guilty for his own death” and “Jason was a reckless Robin” narratives and here we are today. Lobdell danced around his own stories, his characterization of Jason and he never gave a fulfilling ending to any of his arcs. Some characters we only saw once some others simply disappeared. Nothing ever truly started or ended when it came to his writing.

Ginnungagap.

Geoff Johns: to him all I will say is: comprate un bosque y perdete.

Thank you for the ask! I had fun doing this! I wish you have an excellent day!

[cassanovancats]

felicitate. one.

WARNING: JJK spoilers. canon-typical violence.

prologue < current > two

Nov. 2016

“Didja hear about the new transfer student starting today?” Panda asked, poking his head into your room. You push him out of the doorway and lead the way outside where you collect Inumaki and Maki to walk to class together.

You hummed slightly before answering, “Not really. Nii-chan said he wanted to surprise us with him.”

“He stuffed four - four, you guys! - of his classmates into a locker.”

“Killed them?” Maki asks, shifting her weapons case to sit higher on her shoulder. Inumaki leans over, interested.

“Nope! Only ‘severe’ injuries,” Panda explains, using his claws to make quotation marks around the word severe.

“I wonder what his lineage is. If he’s a transfer then he probably doesn’t have an inherited technique. Maybe we both can train together!” Your steps get a little lighter at the thought of adding to your harem. Maki glares at you as if she heard your thoughts and gives an audible hmph.

“If he’s cocky about being the strongest at some bumpkin junior high, I’ll rough him up.” Maki declares. “I bet you’re too tired to even train today, (y/n).”

“Salmon.”

You gasp dramatically. “Even you, Toge-kun? I can’t believe my favorite partner would do me like that. You both know it’s a Monday, I only did five kilometers this morning, thank you very much. And if you would actually join me sometime, you would understand that’s an easy distance.” You toss your hair and point your nose upward sarcastically.

Inumaki rolls his eyes, “Bonito flakes.”

“What he said,” Maki nods. “It's bad enough you convinced Gojo we have to run laps to warm-up before training.” You pout at such blatant rebuffs. Another failed attempt to get a workout buddy. Not that any of your classmates were weak, quite the opposite, they just kept training to what they saw as most essential - cursed techniques and fighting.

“You wouldn’t want them on your run anyways,” Panda says, trying to cheer you up, “You’d just leave them in the dust and end up alone on your trail anyways.” You chuckle at the annoyed noise Maki makes and move to enter the classroom first. As always, you claim the desk furthest from the door and closest to the window. Inumaki sits next to you, a habit from when you both met as children at clan meetings, Maki next to him, and Panda by the door.

You toss your jacket across the back of your chair and breathe in relief. The terrible things were so heavy and while it was great in the winter, November was still too hot to be covered in fabric. You smooth your skirt across your thighs to cover more skin and turn to ask Inumaki a question about the homework when Satoru slams the door of the classroom open. “Transfer student incoming! Let’s get this party -,” he trails off seeing the bored look on everyone’s face, “-started? (y/n), explain why you’re not totally pumped.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you asking as my brother or my teacher right now?”

“I heard he’s a punk. I have no interest in being nice to that kind of guy.” Maki interrupts.

“Salmon.”

Satoru pouts when you nod and Panda remains silent. “Whatever.” he turns and cups his hand around his mouth to yell at the closed door. “Come on in now!”

A deep sense of dread settles in your stomach when the door inches open. You and Inumaki share a look and he is already reaching to push up his sleeve and pull down his zipper. The boy who walks in is hunched in over himself and would be cute if not for the enormous curse hanging onto his back. The monster sneers with elongated teeth over his shoulder while he makes his introduction. Although neither makes an offensive move, every student makes one choreographed movement to circle around him in a defensive measure. Maki thrusts her blade into the blackboard behind Yuta Okkotsu. “Don’t you know you’re cursed?” She sneers at him down the staff, “We learn about curses here. It’s not a place for people who are cursed.”

Satoru doesn’t move an inch when he begins the spiel you’ve heard a million times: where curses originate, how sorcerers exorcise them, and how Jujutsu High trains each generation of sorcerers. It’s clear he didn’t explain this to Yuta, as the already pale boy becomes almost translucent. You take a step back, still hesitant about what must be a special-grade curse, but trusting that your brother would never endanger you. Well, at least not to the point of possible death. If he brought Yuta to your class, there must be a reason.

But then two giant arms emerge from the blackboard to grab Maki’s weapon from her hands. An ominous voice that makes you suddenly nauseous warns, “Don’t bully Yuta!” The arms swipe your friends onto their backs in one smooth movement. Panda thumps against the wall and Inumaki slides across the floor, hitting his head on an upturned desk. Maki stumbles backwards, shocked at the easy strength of the curse.

“Stop!” The technique you borrowed from Inumaki forces everyone in the room to freeze and you fall to your knees coughing, suddenly exhausted. Your brother breaks your hold and moves away from where he leaned against his desk when he first entered the room to offer you a hand. You stand on shaky legs as he explains how Yuta came to be cursed. Satoru allows you to clasp both hands onto the one still supporting you, allowing his technique to be borrowed and releasing the hold you had on your classmates.

You move to stand with them in solidarity as they gather to their feet. Maki takes the role of your pillar, allowing you to stand slightly behind her and grip the back of her jacket, while Inumaki hands you a cough drop from his pocket. You nod a thanks, still unable to speak. God, you need to train with his technique more. He can get at least three strong commands out before being incapacitated.

“They’re going through a rebellious phase, so let me introduce everyone. First is my precious lil sister, Gojo (y/n). She copies techniques by touch, so ignore how handsy she gets.” Satoru smiles and winks behind his blindfold, “Maki Zen’in. Cursed tool user; she uses special tools to exorcise curses. Cursed speech user Toge Inumaki, (y/n) copied his technique in that little show. His vocab is limited to rice ball ingredients. And Panda.” He points at each of you as he travels down the line. Yuta moves to join where the four of you had previously stood united against him. “Wow! Five first years! That's the biggest class in a while. Yaga must be so jealous the great Gojo-san can recruit so many talented young ones.” Satoru mimes wiping a tear from his blindfolded eyes and you roll your own at his self-praise. Yuta nervously (maybe curiously? nervous is the most common reaction) eyes Panda.

By now, you can mostly stand on your own, but gesture for another cough drop from Inumaki. He indulges you, though reluctantly. You make a mental note to buy a pack to refill both your own and his pocket stashes. But first, an afternoon practical where you’re paired with your brother. A pairing which means you two will just take the Gojo family card for a trip around whatever district you’ll be traveling to. Not that you’d ever complain about that. Inumaki and Panda are paired together, which leaves Maki and the new kid. Yuta moves to stand in front of Maki (and you, by default, since you’re still slightly hidden behind her) and says quietly, “I’m, uh, looking forward to working with you.” He manages a shaky smile.

Maki narrows her eyes. “You were bullied, right?” He visibly shakes but doesn’t respond. “Thought so. You’re totally bully-able. Probably because of the curse. You act like such a good person but it feels fake; it feels gross. You’re being protected, why act like a victim?” You elbow her side with a frown but she carries on. “I bet you’ve been passive your whole life. No goals. No aspirations. Jujutsu High ain’t that easy.”

Panda takes a step to stand firmly next to Yuta and places a giant paw on his shoulder. “That’s enough, Maki.” Inumaki agrees sternly.

“Fine. Whatever,” she scratches at her head, embarrassed at being reprimanded by each of her classmates. She is the first one to leave the room, not waiting for Gojo’s dismissal. Not like each of you don’t know the routine for missions.

The class begins to trickle out slowly and you hesitate before grabbing Yuta’s wrist to tug him gently back into the room. “I wanted to apologize. Maki isn’t always nice, but I promise she’s one of the kindest souls I know. I’m glad you joined our class, Yuta-san.” You smile in a way you hope reassures him. You walk away quickly, hoping to still have time to grab a pair of shorts from your dorm. You think you might just let a curse kill you if you have to fight in a skirt again after accidentally flashing your underwear at Panda last mission. Due to leaving so fast, you miss the sight of Yuta’s frozen body burning up in a deep blush.

The six of you arrive at an elementary school without any more fights in the car. Just a thick, awkward silence. Yuta seems sweaty and is constantly wiping his palms on his pants as the group approaches the building. Gojo-sensei gives the usual mission brief, explaining how children have recently started going missing and two curses are responsible. Team Panda will be responsible for one, Team Maki for the other. “And what will Team Gojo be doing?” Maki asks, raising a sarcastic eyebrow.

“Keeping an eye on the perimeter, of course! (y/n), if you will.” You nod and begin the chant to create a curtain.

“W-what is that? it’s turning to night!” Yuta yells.

“That is a curtain. It’ll make you guys invisible to the outside world and reveal the curses inside.” Gojo-sensei pats Yuta reassuringly on the shoulder. You follow him to stand outside of the curtain. Before it closes your classmates in, Gojo adds, “Don’t go dying on us now.”

You snort and hit your brother's arm. “You shouldn’t scare him like that. Poor boy looked like he was going to faint. So, are we leaving or actually keeping an eye on them?”

“I’m curious about how Rika will react when Yuta is in actual danger. Let’s wait,” he replies. You nod and move to sit cross-legged on the hood of the car while Satoru leans against the side. “...This also gives time for your precious Nii-chan to catch up on gossip. Has sweet Toge caught onto your crush yet?”

You flush and cross your arms across your chest. Moving to angle your body away from him, you pout and petulantly say, “There’s no crush. We’re just good partners. He's the only one of my classmates I can actually take a technique from, so of course I spend time training with him!”

Satoru smiles and hums, “No need to be so defensive. You know I approve if there was a crush though, right?” You just nod, relieved he was letting it drop so easily. “Although, your poor brothers might get jealous if we get even less time with you. We’re your best partners ever, after all.”

“Of course, Nii-chan. You know Team Gojo is undefeatable,” you say. Suddenly, both of you startle and whip your heads towards a point behind the curtain. Even without copying Satoru’s six-eyes, you can see the sudden burst of cursed energy. The wave of power makes you so nauseous, you turn your head and gag slightly.

“Freaky,” Satoru chuckles. “So that's the true identity of special grade cursed spirit Rika Orimoto. Women sure are scary.”

“If he lost control of her, something must be wrong,” you hop up from your seat and step forward to dismiss the curtain.

Yuta steps through the curtain right as your hand reaches out to dash the veil away. The sight startles you. He's covered in the usual grime from missions but it’s how he collapses on top of two children he obviously carried out and the unconscious Maki draped over his back that scares you. You move to untangle the limbs and check Maki for injuries while Satoru steps forward, in teacher-mode again, and says, “Welcome back. You did it.”

You stick your hand out impatiently gesturing for the first aid kit kept in the car. When Gojo places it in your hands, you rush to tourniquet Maki’s leg where there’s an obvious gouge in the flesh. Gojo continues to talk with Yuta, likely a debrief, while you move onto the two children. Neither has any wounds that you can treat - they’re obviously cursed but that requires Auntie Shoko’s technique. You report all of this to your brother and he instructs the driver to be sure to take everyone back to school. He tells you to be sure to help ‘Ieiri-san’ with the children, and while you wrinkle your nose at the formality (Auntie Shoko has never separated her role in your personal life from her role in your training), you easily agree. With some effort and not much help from an exhausted Yuta, you manage to get all four into a car. You slide into the passenger seat and nod to signal the driver to start the car.

After copying her reversed healing cursed technique, the pair of you don’t take long to heal the children and Maki. Maki regained consciousness while you were working on her, nearly kicking you in the face. She gave you a short debrief of what had happened and, knowing she was now okay, you took great delight in teasing her for messing up her first chance to impress your new classmate. “Oh man, Toge-kun is going to love this. I can't believe Miss ‘I’ll rough him up’ got swallowed! You completely fucked up a first impression,” you cackled and dodged her kick. Shoko gave you an exasperated look from across one of the kid’s hospital beds.

“Leave my patients alone, (y/n). Go tell your idiot brother everyone is fine.”

taglist: @rowanthefox

[heavenbarnes]

if i could reach for the stars, i’d give them all to you

The Mandalorian x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: mentions of masturbation, impure thoughts, implied voyeurism, dirty talk, clothed!mando and naked!reader, fingering, finger sucking, handjob, unprotected sex (this is fiction but yours is not, wrap it), coming inside, very light canon-typical violence

Word Count: 6.5k

everyone’s favourite bounty hunter, in a piece that seemingly came out of the blue! (my apologies if there is any new-zealand-english in this, i started it on my phone) x

If you could count the days that Mando had been dragging you from planet to planet in search of this quarry, then maybe you’d be able to sleep at night.

Time moves different, you think, the hours go slow but the days go quick. Or maybe it’s the other way around? Or maybe time just doesn’t move at all, maybe you’re suspended in this limbo the same way the Razor Crest is suspended in the stars.

At least it feels that way, you’re starting to lose the ability to differentiate between the ship moving and standing completely stagnant.

That’s how long you’d been on this hunt for.

It wasn’t even your hunt, you had your duties, but they certainly weren’t wrangling no-gooders. Yours were more house keeping, the occasional wound cleaning, baby sitting was also on that list somewhere.

And as if he could hear your thoughts (you were still indeterminate on whether or not he could, there was a running bet between yourself and the bounty hunter), the gentlest of gurgles and coos were making their way closer to where you lay.

You turned your head, shuffling your body to try in earnest to get somewhat comfortable on the steel bunk, bringing yourself face to face with your greenest wee friend. By the time three little fingers were reaching onto the edge of your bed, you were hooking you arm down to crane him up.

He lay chest to chest on you, barely weighing more than a bag of root vegetables, quietly chirping to himself. Wrapping both arms around him, you lay in quiet, trying to listen out for telling signs that something might’ve been going well in the cockpit.

“What has your dad got us into now, huh?” The question was nearly rhetorical with the nonsensical babbles you got back from the little guy.

It was a fair question though, one you’d never have the guts to ask the pilot currently sitting somewhere above your head. That was kind of the deal, he doesn’t ask you what you do, and you don’t ask him what he does.

You weren’t sure if it was entirely a fair deal, considering your answer would almost always be “feeding the baby” or “tidying up the mess you left.” His would be somewhere in the range of “extortion” or “racketeering”, which is generally the one you’d be more fervent to know about.

Hearing a familiar noise and change in pressure, you took it for the landing of the ship. You’d landed somewhere, which probably meant Mando knew the guy was close, which could really mean that he’d get the fucker and you’d get to stay somewhere comfortable for more than a night.

The sound of him coming down the ladder and into the shared space pricked your ears up, causing you to hold the baby close to your chest as you sat up to ensure he didn’t fall from your grasp. You were met with the dark visor and the inability to tell what would come next.

He stood there before you, taking up a hell of a lot of space. He always did, this unspeakable way of being very much present, wherever he was. There was never any doubt that he had arrived, and maybe that’s what made him so good at what he did. There was many a quality of him that you pondered when you had silence to yourself, which was nearly all the time.

Hard to believe but the Mandalorian wasn’t a chatterbox.

His right hand brushed over the blaster on his thigh, naturally commanding your eyes to follow the motion, you didn’t know when this conditioning had started. Your cheeks heated at the thought of it, how has you become so responsive to his motions.

Maybe it was that lack of verbal communication, maybe your subconscious had forced you into registering just about every movement his body made. That way you’d have even the slightest idea as to what he might’ve been doing, or better yet, thinking.

“I’ve got to go on foot, I should be back before dark.” He finally spoke, his head hadn’t shifted but there was a possibility his gaze had moved across you and his son.

“Sounds good, I was just thinking of getting us some more supplies.” You threw out, nonchalantly as you brushed your hand along the kid’s back.

Mando cleared his throat before shifting on his feet, like he was wanting to leave before he said his next words. He decided against it and spoke briskly before turning towards the hatch.

“Then don’t go too far,” With his back to you he briefly tilted his helmet over his shoulder. “Please.”

And just like that he was off the ship and out into the open, off to do maker knows what to maker knows who. You placed the kid on the floor as you rose to your feet, looking around for what needed your attention first.

What you took away from Mando’s comment of “before dark” was that it was currently somewhere near morning, maybe midday. What you also took away from the whole interaction was that you were to stay close, and he’d even used his manners.

You needed to start cleaning before you over thought the sentiment. Very easy to do when the man spoke to you possibly three times a day and almost everything he said set your heart alight.

How he managed to do it was beyond you, you thought whilst you folded back the sheets on the bunk parallel to yours, Mando’s bunk. Was it the nature of the man contrasted with the way he interacted with you? Most likely.

You’d seen him haul ass straight up that ramp and strike fear into men triple the size of you. You’ve seen him silence a cantina by walking through the door. You knew the sounds he could draw out of the toughest of people, through fear alone.

Yet when he was behind the walls of this ship? He asked you if your food was too hot and if you needed an extra blanket at night. This man knows how to kill yet he turns his head towards you when you sing quietly to the little green guy.

Sweeping away the dirt that his boots had left in their wake, the smallest smile crept across your face at the thought. That was until, well you couldn’t help it, those thoughts always followed afterwards. He was very kind to you, but it wasn’t only kindness he’d shown you.

Your mouth went dry and there was an uncontrollable flutter in the pit of your stomach as your mind conjured up memories on its own accord.

You could see that moment you’d been returning to the Razor Crest with Mando, well after dark. He was walking slower than you were, no words were being exchanged, it was understandable they’d think you were alone. It was however, incredibly idiotic to grab you by the elbow at that moment.

“Let go of her, now.” The voice had seemingly come from nowhere, but you’d always known it was close behind.

“And why would I do that?” Silly man, you cannot catch up at this point.

The sound of a blaster being drawn made itself known, the man’s grip on you loosening as the barrel was pressed to his temple.

“Because she’s mine and I don’t share.”

You stopped sweeping to catch your breath, a thin sheen of sweat arising on your forehead at the mere thought of what he’d do for you. Maker, he once stepped in front of you when he thought there was danger and that was enough to have you your hand between your legs that night.

How unforgiving, to secretly bury your fingers between your thighs, your other hand across your mouth to suppress any sounds. The same man that was on your mind sleeping directly to your left, less than three feet away from you. Well you were sure he was sleeping, it was hard to tell with the helmet but he never said anything.

Pushing the thoughts to the back of your head, you finished sorting the living area of the ship, leaving the cockpit to him. That was the one place you didn’t interfere with, he’d never told you to keep out, but you didn’t really trust yourself in there without him. It seemed strange being in there without him, it was one area that was so very, him?

You came back to your things, rifling through to find another one of your fabric wrap tops, sitting down with it you pulled the little green baby into your lap. Re-purposing your spare shirt, you weaved the fabric around the both of you until he was safely secured to your front. You smiled down at his big eyes as you grabbed your bag to head out.

These jaunts into the village, they weren’t bad, they were just better with the Mandalorian. The bounty hunter, the pretty care-taker, and their big-eared green child. An unconventional family, but a family none the less. It felt nicer when you were together, but you knew you enjoyed these new places because of the work Mando did.

How else would you be visiting these new planets, new villages, new people? As you felt the soft breeze on your cheeks and heard the soft giggles against your chest, you were acutely aware you had a lot to be grateful for. Using a squinted smile as a universal thanks, you took the bag of mixed fruits from the elderly lady at the stall.

You passed tiny berries to the kid on your front, watching him devour them happily as you walked amongst the people, happily blending into their backgrounds. There was something serene in anonymity, being observant rather than observed for once. This was almost restful in a sense.

That wasn’t to say you couldn’t find thrill in the way all eyes fell on you as you accompanied your- the Mandalorian somewhere. You knew people whispered about you as you walked with his hand on the small of your back. Gazes drifted in your direction as he bought you drinks and instinctively turned towards you in protection.

There was most certainly a particular kind of feeling in that, one it didn’t pay to dwell on when you were in public.

A few medical supplies in the bag, food stuffs for the three of you, it was about time you made it back to the ship. You smiled to yourself as you walked, silently praising your listen abilities as you hadn’t strayed too far. It wasn’t hard not to, especially after Mando had thrown a please on the end there.

You wondered if his eyes softened when he said it? Did his lip jut out and his brow furrow as he spoke? Another thing you really couldn’t think of when you were out in the open, the more you tried to think of what he could look like, the more you felt the heat prick your skin. Just from the tone of his voice, the size of his build, and the way that he walked you knew he’d have you on your knees.

Maker, even with all that armor on you were ready to do for him whatever he asked, no doubt about it. Sometimes you thought maybe the armor added to it, the way it made him look like a mountain of a man, added to his power and elusiveness? That helmet never allowed his features to betray him and give away what he was thinking, bestowed with the upper hand in every situation.

As much as you’d like to see his face, to feel his lips, you’d be lying if you said the armor had nothing to do with the way you felt about him.

This planet’s suns were already starting to move in the sky as the Razor Crest came into view across the field, from what you remembered of Mando’s lessons about telling the time through the sky, you’d say it’d be dark soon. That’d mean, he would be home soon.

That would mean you’d hear the hiss of the hatch open and you’d watch him trudge into the small space, deep breaths through the modulator and dirt on your once tidy floors. His return back was your favorite part of the day, the sense of safety that blanketed you was never taken for granted.

You wouldn’t say he came home soon, but then again, it was hard to tell how much time had passed when you spent the most of it trying to put the baby to sleep. The moment you were successful, you were closing the latch on his crib and immediately heading for your bunk, relieved to be done with your 33rd lullaby of the evening. You’d just lay back when that familiar sound had you rising up on an elbow.

From your bunks, you had a clear view of all incoming visitors, so laying back here you had your sights locked on the unfolding scene in front of you. Mando’s boots dragged along the tracked flooring of the ramp as he pulled something along behind him. He lent back, before he threw his cargo out in front of him, nudging him towards the one place he certainly didn’t want to be right now.

You silently observed, still propped up on your elbow as the bounty hunter wrestled him into carbon, that bit you averted your eyes for. After the commotion had died down, you turned in time to see Mando walking towards where you lay, perching on the edge of the bunk across from you. Your eyes ran over his appearance, noticing a few scuffs on his armor, but overall, another job well done.

Unsure of what came over you, your eyes came to a stop right at the large black “T” of his visor, right where you guessed his eyes should be. If they were there, you weren’t sure where they were looking but the helmet was focused in your direction. The silence was somewhat comfortable until one of you had to break it.

Someone always had to go first. You knew this. You always went first.

“The kid and I picked up something that looks like dinner, if you’re interested.” You spoke with a smile, fingers fiddling absentmindedly.

He nodded, shifting around on the bunk, something you didn’t blame him for as these threadbare mattresses were rather offensive to say the least.

“Before I do, could you help me with something?” He asked you with a break-even tone.

It was so calm and collected that you simply nodded, it gave away no hint as to what you were about to see. You watched as he busied his hands with his armor, before lifting his undershirt and exposing to you a helluva hit on the left side of his torso.

“Maker forbid! Stay there!” You panicked, racing up to get your medical supplies.

You could’ve sworn you heard him make a joke, something along the lines of “I’ll be where you left me” but you were moving too quick to really pick it up. By the time you were back, and you’d got a closer look at it, you really couldn’t believe how smoothly he’d played this one off.

“We really are not cut from the same cloth,” You filled the space as you reached for the bacta spray. “This is nothing to you yet I stub my toe on a ladder once and I really thought you’d have to go on without me.”

It might’ve just been a delay from the modulator of his helmet, but you almost thought that could’ve been a huffed laugh that came from him. It was followed closely by a sharp inhale in pain, so it was looking more and more likely.

“You and I aren’t so different, I’ve just got the helmet to hide it.”

Suppressing your reactions was tough, but you didn’t want to scare him into his usual silence by making some kind of face. This was just, unusual, beautifully unsure.

As you sprayed the affected area, you allowed yourself that one little glimpse of him you got, the only one you got every time you bandaged him up. The beautiful soft tan skin that resides under his armor, something you’d never get enough of.

“You mean to tell me there might be some tears under there?” You finished applying it, your hand still gently resting against his skin.

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

As you went to move your hand away from him, you felt his own gloved hand shoot out and grasp yours, holding it against him for a moment. You prayed to Maker that his helmet didn’t have some truly enhanced hearing that gave away the fact your heart was near beating out your chest.

He didn’t speak, just kept your fingertips pressed against him for a few more moments. You weren’t going to argue, the physical contact being the first you’d had in a very long time, this was hardly cause for concern. You did feel a sense of loss when he finally moved you away, reapplying his armor as you tidied up.

As you put your bag away, you felt like you were being watched, and your assumptions proved correct when you turned to find him looking at you from the ladder to the cockpit.

“Thank you for that, and thank you for the food.” Unfortunately, very normal again.

You lent him a kind smile, reassuring him it was no problem, before he made his way up to eat his food on his own. Resigning to your bunk, you strained as hard as you could to listen for that sound, and soon you were met with it.

A gentle hiss, before metal on metal as he placed the helmet on the floor. A spoon against a bowl and then, a quiet hum in appreciation for that first bite of food. You lay with a smile on your face knowing that only a floor away from you, the Mandalorian was helmet-less and he was enjoying food, your food.

You hadn’t realised you had fallen asleep, or that you were tired, until you heard Mando coming into your shared space. He unknowingly woke you up, but you didn’t open your eyes, you listened to the sounds of him navigating the area until the sounds of his boots stopped. You gently opened your eyes and felt your heart jump inside your chest, but not out of fear.

He was standing beside your bunk, helmet directed towards you, so your eyes did what they always did and went for the black strip of visor. There was a moment of quiet between you, and for the first time, Mando went first.

“How do you always do that?”

“Do what?” You didn’t know why you were whispering, he wasn’t, but he made you feel like you needed to.

“Look directly into my eyes, you always know where they are.”

Your mouth was going dry, the blood was rushing so quick in your ears that you couldn’t hear your own thoughts. All you could offer him was a pathetic shrug as you shuffled up your bed. Apparently, this was an open invitation for him to sit beside you on it.

Now, you hadn’t thought of it before but it was suddenly made aware to you that there is something entirely intimate about someone sitting on your bed. The fact it was him, in all his glory, well that was just entirely intimate in and of its own.

It dawned on you how quiet it had become, only the sounds of your breathing in this tiny space could be heard, but it wasn’t essentially bad. This was just one of those moments, where nobody really had anything to say. Rather than speak, Mando moved in a way that told you more than anything he could say ever would.

He reached into your lap, where your fingers were tugging at the woolen blanket, and took your hand between his. He gently rested it on the armor of his thigh as he slowly slipped his two gloves off, a new sound coming to light of the leather being dropped on the floor.

Your tongue was suddenly too big for your mouth as his bare hands wrapped around your one. They felt rougher, certainly had seen more harm than yours had, but that didn’t mean they weren’t kind to the touch. His fingers moved against yours, folding down until they were entwined.

He cleared his throat, the noise coming in clear across his modulator and nearly making you jump. What really stopped your heart was his question.

“Do you look at me when you touch yourself because you’re thinking of me, or because you’re trying to make sure I don’t notice?”

If Maker could’ve struck you down where you sat, that wouldn’t have been the worst thing to happen. Your whole body was overcome by a horrendous heat, and yes, you’d be a bold faced liar if you said part of it wasn’t arousal.

“You’ve been awake all those times?” Your voice was so quiet but you just needed to know.

“Sometimes I’ve been so tired that I’ve fallen asleep against my will, but most of the time, yes.”

Second time this day he’s been cool as ice about something that’s got you seeing stars. How is this something so calm to him when you’ve got lightning inside of you? What does he mean against-

“Against your will?”

“As in, I would’ve liked to keep listening but I fell asleep before I could stop myself.”

How strange to be able to pin point a moment where everything was going to change, never be the same again. You willed yourself to look at his helmet, and if what he said was true, you’re locked eyes with him in that moment.

“You listen and you like-“

“I listen and I rub myself through my pants, because I feel I’ve heard you say my name.”

Any less restraint on yourself and that moan sitting on the tip of your tongue would have fallen straight out. Is it possible that every filthy thought you’ve had is suddenly materializing in front of you.

“But I don’t hear you or-“

“I can turn off the vocalizer in this,” One of his hands rises to tap against the helmet. “And you’d never hear a word.”

The image of Mando palming himself in the bed beside you as the tiniest cries of his name sound from you, flashes past your mind and you can’t stop yourself before your thighs clamp together. You know he saw, he knows you know. 

Unsure of where you found the courage for your next words, you’re just thankful you did.

“A little of both, mainly because I’m thinking about you.”

You hear what has to be a growl, omitted straight from his chest at your words. His helmet tilts to watch as you remove your hand from his, but slowly trails up your body as you’re shifting from your spot beside him. You turn towards him, parting your knees so you’re situated right in his lap.

Large hands come to hold your waist as your hands come to rest on his pauldrons. He slowly drifts his touch up to your shirt, fingers playing with the large knot that keeps the whole thing together. One tug on the intricate draping and everything he’s ever thought of is in front of him.

“Take it off me, Mando.”

Before he moves, he tilts his gaze up, probably looking you dead in the eye with out any hesitations. You hear a low hum of breath through the vocalizer.

“You’re prepared to let me do to you what I want, and you don’t even know my name, what I look like?”

Drifting your hands along his collarbones, your fingers gripped the edge of his under shirt, just and only displaying to you the soft skin that resided there. You kept your eyes on his as your touch left shivers in their wake.

“Always have been, always will be.”

In a matter of seconds, you felt him pull at the back of your shirt and soon it was all unraveling, leaving your chest bare to the bounty hunter beneath you. It wasn’t hard to catch the gasp that fell from him at the sight, everything he’d ever wanted was so very much in his grasp.

The rough pads of his fingers moved along your belly and to your chest, palms rolling over your breasts and catching your nipples. It was a known fact that you’d be the softest thing he was ever allowed to hold onto, he knew this was something to take his time with. The Mandalorian was never a fool, he knew when to draw slow.

Arching your back into his touch, a natural sigh sounded from within you. It had been some time since you were touched like this, this kind of intimacy didn’t come easy when you were constantly on the move with a man like Mando. Understandable that nobody would try get close when the armored man would break an arm before he let them touch you.

And understandable that you’d be less than inviting when all you wanted was this, from him and only him.

“Please touch me, Mando.” You couldn’t help but whine, he already had a way of building arousal within you, this was borderline torture now.

“What do you think I’m doing? Or is this not enough, do you still need more?”

You caught your lip between his teeth, he couldn’t be talking to you like this without expecting it to be doing a number on you. Rolling your hips into his, you had it there in that moment. The Mandalorian was pitching a tent in his pants and it was a credit to you.

“I want your hands on my pussy, sir.” 

You hadn’t called him that in maker knows how long, you had when you first joined him on the ship but it ended all very abruptly. It ended when he turned to you one day and in a strained voice had said “Please, for the love of it all, just call me Mando.”

Now it all made sense to you in this moment, one hand gripped your bottom lip between two fingers, whilst the other slipped down the front of your trousers and cupped your cunt firmly. It all happened so quickly there was no way of stopping the girlish whimper that erupted. 

“Greedy little girl, is this what it’s going to come to? You’re not satisfied until I’ve got my hands on you?” The gruff edge to his voice had you moving your hips in his hand.

He welcomed it as you did, lifting his fingers to slip them between the slit of your heat. There was no doubt he could feel just how wet he’d gotten you with his words and his touch on you. No room for embarrassment, you bared down on him, hoping he’d find it within him to slip his fingers inside you.

“If it means I get spoken to, get touched like this? Then that’s exactly what it’ll come to.”

He moved his hand on your mouth, angling two of his fingers straight in and against your tongue. He muttered a “suck” which you heard loud and clear, wrapping your lips around the thick digits, treating them just how you would the head of his cock.

His other hand moved deeper against you, threatening to move all the way inside you. The way you rolled your cunt against him, you thought he knew it was less a threat than a borderline need at this stage. He ever so graciously sunk them in till the knuckle, before gently stretching them out.

You moaned around his fingers, one hand coming to wrap around his wrist and the other going for his lap, trying to get a grip around whatever you could. Suddenly, the hardening you felt before and the way your fingers seemed to graze against his length, all made sense. Somewhere between leaving you for dinner and coming back down, he’d removed his codpiece.

There had to be a sense of knowing somewhere in there.

The time to tease him over it came and went as his fingers within you flinched when you gripped him through his pants. You rolled your palm over the impressive size, feeling him becoming even harder beneath you. He dragged his fingers forward in time with your movements, forcing you into a steady roll against his body.

Sliding his fingers from your mouth, you licked up the length of them and aimed for eye contact.

“Does it feel better when I do it? Do you think you’ll ever be able to go back to touching yourself and listening?”

He pulled his fingers inside you forward, hitting the softest spot and releasing a pathetic cry from your chest.

“If you don’t watch your mouth I’ll sit over there stroking myself and all you’ll be able to do is watch and listen.”

Now, the thought of that shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did, but what is a girl to do. What can she do when he’s throwing things like that out into the open and watching her catch them like a dog with a bone.

His helmet briefly tipped down to where his hands rested in your pants, before shooting back up to your face. There was no doubt he felt the small flood that released at what he’d just said. There was also no doubt he was going to have you for that.

“Oh you’re incredible, does that sound good to you? Want to see me fucking myself, hear me get myself off?”

It truly wasn’t fair, there was no control you had over the way you seemed to get wetter at every word. In your defense, Mando was hardening just as quickly under your palm. The answer to his question was obvious, the thought of watching him fuck his fist? That was high up on your list of things that keep you up at night.

Rather than wait for a verbal response, he was drawing his fingers from you, much to your dismay that you made known with a whine. Strong arms wrapped around you and was standing, placing you in the spot he’d just sat. He was quick to draw your trousers and underwear down your legs, leaving you incredibly bare to the bounty hunter.

His hands gripped your shins, pushing your knees back into your chest and exposing you some more. He stepped back, fully taking in the sight of the way your pussy glistened for him. His gaze came back up to your face, and the look in your eyes was familiar to him, a pure look of want.

It took him back to when he met you, you were one of the first people whose first reaction to the Mandalorian wasn’t one of fear. You looked him up and down and when you focused on his helmet (getting eye contact on the first try), he’d seen a look he wasn’t used to. Now he could pin point it as lust, you looked at him like you weren’t meant to spend another day without him.

Releasing one of your legs, he brought his hand down to free himself from his pants. The moment he stood before you with his cock in his hand, you knew that there would never be another like this. It was going to be impossible, should you ever have to, to replicate a feeling like the one he inspired within you.

He stroked himself as he loomed over you, and you took it upon yourself to reach your hand between your legs. To drew your fingers over your pussy, rubbing your clit gently as his helmet dipped ever so slightly to catch the motions.

“Looks like a normal night for us, huh?” 

There was an exhale from the helmet, still intently watching as you collected some wetness and brought your hand out to wrap around his length. He was hot and heavy, throbbing in your grasp as you twisted around it. You brought your touch up and over the head, feeling the way the pre-come had already started to appear.

Mando bucked his hips into your hand for a moment, his hand still grasping your shin as he rubbed it gently, enjoying the feeling of your skin beneath his bare touch. He took the base of his cock in hand and drew back for a moment, before stepping forward and dropping it against the meeting of your thighs.

You gasped at the sensation, the feeling hitting your clit and sending its way through your entire body. There was now no second thought to be had, he had been worth the wait and you were grateful for your displays of patience. He rubbed the head along you, picking up more slick as he got ever closer to your entrance.

Lining up with you, he put his other hand back on your shin and braced you open, slowly inching his hips forward as he began to fill you to the hilt. Your eyes rolled back and you felt tears pricking at the corner of them as he well and truly stretched you. Fuck, if it wasn’t apparent it had been a long time before, getting right back into it with someone as big as him was going to be one of your greatest missions.

Mando was good to you, allowing you a moment to release all the breath held in your body, before the slowest thrusts of his hips became apparent. The patch of coarse hair that resided at the base of his cock was flush against your clit at the end of each thrust. Just about everything he did to you was a sensory overload, the way his skin felt on you, the sounds that were falling from him, he was going to do you over.

He slid one foot back, leaning forward until his chest was flush with yours, his hands left your legs and braced under your arms against the bunk. Your head tipped back, candied moans floated into the air as he sped up his pace, the unmatched heat only he could bring began to rise throughout your body.

His helmet rested heavy in the crook of your neck, moving your head to the side you accommodated him there. The timbre of your moans becoming more all-consuming with your proximity.

“You look so sweet getting fucked out like this, such a good little girl but you’re letting me stretch this pussy till it’s only fit for me.”

There wasn’t a word in all your learned languages that could’ve encapsulated the way that sentence moved through you. Your body responded for you, cunt tightening even more around him as, and he felt it too. He stuttered a moment, a short but sharp moan slipping out into your ear as he did.  

You’d spent your whole time on the Razor Crest complaining about how uncomfortable these bunks were, but in this moment with Mando’s weight on top of you, there wasn’t anywhere else you’d rather be. One of his arms left the bunk, wrapping around your waist and pulling you tighter against him and letting him quicken the pace.

The bind of moans that were steadily leaving your lips were stuttered by the incredible feeling of his hips rolling against yours. The amounting pleasure was getting too much, like a fever that was ready to break, you slipped your hand between the two of you and rubbed your clit. You tried hardest to keep your time but it was hard enough to keep a level head when he had you like this.

You could just and only hear his breathing changing beneath the helmet, you knew you needed more. You hadn’t spent nights awake imagining what this man sounded like when you were wrapped around him, all for him to keep it from you.

Turning towards him, your lips ghosted against the beskar helmet, a fog of your breath being left in its wake.

“I want to hear you, let me know how good I feel.”

That ripped the most guttural groan from deep within his chest, it almost sounded pained, the way it tapered off into a cry towards the end. He knew he didn’t need to hide with you, to be reserved, so when he finally let it out there was nothing to stop it. The dam walls had broken and the sound was intoxicating, your legs kicking out and wrapping around his hips.

He took his other hand from the bunk and tucked it under your thigh, still holding you tight around your waist, he picked you up and hoisted you around him. His thrusts never still, bouncing you down against him as he continued to tell you all the good in the world you were doing, right against your ear. Well, against the helmet and then against your ear.

“This sweet little cunt was made for me, you never need to get yourself off again, you just ask me and I’ll do whatever you want.”

A feeling of lightheaded rushing began to take over you, you never thought you’d hear an admission like that from the Mandalorian but it was gratefully met. Your whole body began to tighten, legs locking and muscles tensing around him. Over your own cries and whimpers, you could hear direct orders from him.

“Come for me, be a good girl for me.”

And how could you deny him like that?

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pulled his head further into your neck, hands splaying against his upper back as a raw cry clawed its way out of your throat. Mando fucked you through it, the white light that shot across your closed eyes telling you that he was hitting every spot maker gave you.

He pulled you down against his cock again, before his pace began to slow in quakes of his body. He brought you back to the bunk, laying you back against it as he dragged himself through you. He pulled right out to the tip before slamming in again, your cries still filling the small space. 

Pushing right back into the hip, he doubled over you, filling you fully as he came with the purest moan of your name. You’d never heard him say it like that, your instinct was to wrap your arms around him, something told you that you needed to hold onto him in that moment.

As he pulled out, he pressed a palm against your belly, making your whole body shudder at the feeling. A gruff exhale could be heard through the modulator, before Mando quickly tucked himself into his pants, heading to the fresher for a wash cloth.

The feeling of the damp fabric against the sensitive meeting of your thighs had you jumping, but he was quick to calm you with another gentle touch of his hand. His helmet came up to look at you, take you in for yet another time that night.

“I’ve got this, let me take care of you for once.” 

[everlarkficexchange]

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed. 

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it. 

Thank you all! 

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting. 

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet. 

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest. 

 “I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug. 

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles. 

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!” 

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place. 

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music. 

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.” 

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!” 

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze. 

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club. 

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.” 

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?” 

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,” 

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye. 

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?” 

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence. 

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams. 

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!” 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!” 

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat. 

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful. 

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle. 

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether. 

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh! 

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures. 

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily. 

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead. 

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme. 

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray. 

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch. 

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat. 

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life! 

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it  again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt. 

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on. 

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise. 

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly. 

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply. 

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together. 

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it! 

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have. 

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door. 

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me. 

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth. 

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly. 

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?” 

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim! 

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs. 

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own. 

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up. 

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants. 

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak. 

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter! 

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door. 

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates. 

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve. 

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor. 

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it. 

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress. 

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle. 

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again. 

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine. 

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine. 

He moans. 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans. 

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob. 

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him. 

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet. 

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!” 

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head. 

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep. 

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me. 

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more… 

When was the last time I had sex? 

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,” 

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive! 

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling. 

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off. 

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust. 

I squeak; he grunts.. 

Peeta holds me by the waist,  “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts. 

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe. 

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body. 

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still. 

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath. 

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs. 

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean. 

“Yeah,” 

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully. 

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today? 

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?” 

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—” 

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely. 

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine. 

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips. 

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time. 

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…” 

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed. 

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door. 

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is. 

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep. 

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily. 

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave. 

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking. 

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!” 

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.  

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself. 

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!” 

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint. 

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?” 

Ugh! 

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with? 

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit! 

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?! 

Oh shit! 

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours… 

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach. 

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims! 

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading. 

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!” 

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place. 

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.” 

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps. 

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night… 

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead. 

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta? 

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?” 

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor. 

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings. 

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening. 

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me. 

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met. 

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember. 

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly. 

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl. 

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally. 

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket. 

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master? 

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain. 

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first. 

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention. 

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?” 

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago. 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!” 

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder. 

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful. 

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles. 

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly. 

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?” 

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests. 

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time. 

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,” 

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?” 

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse. 

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly. 

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.” 

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says. 

“How old are you?” 

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him. 

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?” 

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently. 

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me. 

“Please… stay with me…” 

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly. 

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me. 

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow. 

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?” 

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really. 

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk. 

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole. 

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.” 

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together. 

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally. 

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?” 

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically. 

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced. 

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes. 

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?” 

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?” 

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit! 

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern. 

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all. 

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle. 

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out. 

[autisticcassandracain]

I have many thoughts on the weird phenomena in the DC fandom and the Batfam fandom specifically where probably the majority of people just straight up. haven’t interacted with the source material. and almost all of those thoughts can be summarized as ‘lmao that’s weird and mildly concerning’.

and because I’m annoying I will list them all here right now <3

1. To preface this post, I mean, obviously, comics are inaccessible as all hell, both in the disability kind of way and the ‘you need to understand the concept of hypertime to fully comprehend the DC timeline’ kind of way. Because of this, even if you don’t have a disability that prevents you from reading comics, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to look at the amount of comics you need to read to have even a base understanding of a character and go ‘no thanks <3′ and just enjoy fanart and fanfic in a vacuum. Ultimately, this is fandom, this is supposed to be fun, it doesn’t really matter.

2. That said, it’s VERY weird to me that the majority of this fandom just straight up hasn’t interacted with the source material, and moreover, that it’s considered rude to tell people that they should do so. It’s especially weird considering the amount of fanon-only fans I’ve seen who straight up have a superiority complex over canon. The idea that it’s gatekeeping to tell fans of something to actually interact with canon is just. so weird, and a fundamental misunderstanding of what ‘gatekeeping’ actually entails. 

3. But honestly I’m less interested in discussing the ways in which canon and fanon fans should interact with each other (personally, I think it would be helpful to create separate tags of some kind, but that’d require quite a big overhaul of the current fandom state) than in figuring out how this actually happened in the first place. On the one hand, it’s obvious; long-running superhero comics the way DC writes them have made themselves so thoroughly inaccessible that most people are simply too daunted to even try. Most media has a cohesive beginning and end (or at least, a planned end somewhere). Comics just... don’t.

But I do think it says something that, even among people who are clearly interested in the characters (since they have, you know, entire blogs about them), the effort to get into comics just seems to be too much to even bother. This really doesn’t bode well for the future of DC Comics. Obviously, I am no expert on anything at all ever, but I’d personally be surprised if DC survives beyond the few decades, at least in its current form/without a big overhaul.

4. But on the other hand, I don’t think the confusing state of DC Comics is the only thing to blame here. Fandom has a well-known problem with reducing any character down to archetypes to more easily ship and write fic/make content with. This problem is particularly prominent in fanfic, which, if you read enough of it, you’ll eventually start seeing not just the same tropes and trends, but essentially the same fics over and over again. And not just within the same fandom; everywhere, or every large fandom, at least. 

Fanon Batfam is entirely built on a bunch of those tropes; insecure/depressed sadboy Tim, team mom with optional hidden trauma/emotional problems Dick, bad boy with a heart of gold + sadboy combo Jason, abused sadboy Damian/angry easily-villified-for-fic-reasons monster Damian, good dad Bruce for found family fic and bad dad Bruce for angst fic, etc. This all culminates in a found family dynamic that’s generic and malleable to whatever fic the writer wants to write.

(This isn’t getting into the ship fic, which I avoid like the plague because the vast majority of it is incest, but I’d bet real actual money that the tropes in those fics fall under what is often preferred by the Migratory Slash Fandom.)

By having a decent excuse not to get into canon (the inaccessibility of comics) and a, by now, well-established fanon fandom, many fans feel free to use the batfam fandom as essentially an excuse to write whatever fic with reduced archetypes and tropes they personally feel the itch to write, without having to bother with even consuming a canon. This is compounded by the fact that canon itself is often contradictory and frankly bad, meaning that whatever interpretation of a character you want/need to go for your fic is at least theoretically backed up by canon (for example, you can just as easily cast Bruce as an abusive shithole dad who his kids need to get away from as a loving father figure who cares deeply for his children), which you can always use as a defense if people question your characterization.

5. This focus on fandom trends and tropes over actual creativity or care for the characters is also visible in the way bigotry manifests in this fandom; namely, in literally the exact way you’d expect. The female characters and characters of colour are shuffled to the side, non-existent, vilified, and/or reduced to harmful stereotypes. 

Barbara is probably the one I saw the most often in fanfic, but usually just as ‘Dick’s girlfriend’, and even then, she was often vilified for Dick angst (especially in fics about examining Dick’s trauma from his canon sexual assault; Kori also often gets the short end of the stick in those). After that, probably Stephanie, who fanon fans don’t really seem to know what to do with, so she’s basically just there as comic relief waffle girl, most of the time, though sometimes she can be used to either further Tim angst or further vilify Tim, whatever the fic calls for. Cass has gotten included more in batfam fics as of late, likely in response to critiques of fandom racism for leaving her out, but again, it’s clear people don’t actually know what to do with her. She’s often reduced to a racist stereotype of a quite, stoic therapist for whatever guy du jour needs it. That, or she’s in Hong Kong and just not there. Duke especially gets left in the dust in fandom, usually just being non-existent, but when he’s there, he’s almost always nothing more than the straight man for the actual fun characters to play off of. Talia probably has it the worst, though, and almost universally gets vilified by fanon stans in order to write sadboy Damian.

All of this is extremely predictable behaviour and falls entirely in line with general fandom misogyny and racism; ignoring or vilifying women and characters of colour, or using them as very minor characters at best. The only two characters of colour who aren’t regularly left out of fic are Dick and Damian, who are both also conveniently the two characters most often drawn and written in a whitewashed manner. In addition, there’s a real trend of demonizing Damian in fanon fics where he isn’t written as an abused sadboy, which I’d argue is in no small part due to fandom racism, considering Damian’s behaviour is in no way as bad as Jason’s, who doesn’t get anywhere close to the same demonization and gets woobiefied instead. I also find it convenient that Damian is probably the batboy who receives the most vilification in fic, when he’s the most obviously non-white of the batboys they’re willing to acknowledge.

Fandom often cries for more diversity in canon, only to ignore the diversity already there and focus on the same generic white guys. The batfam fandom is a brilliant example of this.

Which is not to say that fandom racism and misogyny isn’t present in the canon parts of the fandom (and canon itself); it absolutely 100% is. But I’ve found that canon fans are also more likely to like and care about at least one of the characters I’ve listed as ignored/vilified, and are willing to create and consume content for them, whereas fanon fans... aren’t, really. I’ve never seen a fan of fanon Cass the way I’ve seen fans of fanon Dick, for example. Obviously, this could just be by coincidence, or I’ve just surrounded myself with people like that, but it’s been a trend I noticed. Racism and misogyny is present in every part of this fandom and should be addressed as such, but I feel like it manifests the most blatantly in the fanon parts of this fandom. 

(I’d also recommend the articles Migratory Slash Fandom’s Focus and Beige Blank Slates, which expand more on the type of fandom racism I think is especially prominent in the batfam fandom, as well as literally every article in the What Fandom Racism Looks Like series.)

6. All this leads me to conclude that the majority of fanon fans don’t actually like the characters all that much; they’re convenient excuses for them to participate in fandom. Which I also think is, in no small part, a reason why so many of them react so negatively to being told to pick up a comic; they came to this fandom specifically to consume it as a fandom, because they wanted the fandom experience without having to consume a canon. 

This is not a phenomena unique to the batfam fandom (again, see the Migratory Slash Fandom), but it does fascinate me. While fandom is often said to be an experience focusing on transformative art, I think it’s also safe to say that, especially as fandom has become more mainstream, an increasing amount of people are looking to it less as a way to engage with their favourite pieces of media, and more as a type of media in and of itself. I think the reasons for this are similar to the reasons mass media entertainment like the MCU are so popular; you gain a lot of enjoyment out of it with very little risk involved. 

By consuming the same fics of the same characters (or the same archetypes) over and over again, you are rarely at risk of being challenged or even disappointed. It’s often very clear right from the start whether or not a fic will appeal to you, and if it isn’t, it’s easy to just look for another one. It requires less emotional investment than most other types of media, even ‘popcorn media’ like the MCU - or, yes, DC Comics. It’s safe, it’s enjoyable, it’s comforting, like McDonalds, but just like McDonalds, it’s ultimately bland and unsubstantial. 

7, TL;DR. Ultimately, I don’t think it’s like, wrong to enjoy the fanon version of the batfam without wanting to engage with canon, and I certainly don’t think it’s okay to harrass people over it. But I do think it’s in large part based on a desire to interact with fandom rather than other pieces of media because people are scared of being let down by those pieces of media (or worse, just uninterested in actually thinking), which is mildly concerning. 

[mxgilray]

Loki Season 1 Thoughts

Overall, I really liked this series. It has some issues without question, but I sincerely don't think it's the dumpster fire so many viewers on this site treat it as. Did it go how I expected? Not at all? Did I enjoy the heck out of it and look forward to it every Wednesday? Hell yeah!

Loki's Good Guy Personality

A big complaint many have had with it is how much Loki's demeanor has changed and how his emotional growth feels rushed or his personality is ooc. Truth is, he saw his entire future, saw what his angry, power hungry, I-work-alone persona would get him in the end, and it snapped him back to reality. He has always been shown to be quite emotional and craving attention and lacking in self assurance, it's just in the past movies he's masked it with violence and fake narcissism, and he's always been a secondary character so his perspective is rarely shown. But if you really pay attention it's obvious he isn't truly villainous; we all know that, it's largely why he has such a huge fan base.

Right after meeting Mobius, Loki got an infodump of his future, saw his parents both die, found out that free will means jack shit, and learned he's absolutely powerless in this realm. On top of that, this is 2012 Loki, fresh off of being under Thanos' control, suddenly being shown that the guy who controlled him is going to end up killing him. Frankly,, I think it all broke Loki. He was too shook up by it all and by the sheer helplessness he found himself in at the TVA that he let all his barriers down momentarily. Just long enough for him to open up to Mobius about his motivation and his lack of self confidence. And you know what I bet? Loki felt relieved after talking to Mobius. A weight was lifted, because he bore his heart to someone and wasn't rejected or laughed at or treated like a psycho. And after letting his walls down fully, Loki didn't feel the need to put all of them back up. He stayed guarded around other people, but he didn't need to pretend around Mobius. Mobius has seen under the mask, so Loki doesn't feel pressure to perform as an all knowing, all powerful God around Mobius. That freedom is life changing.

People who gravitate towards broken, pseudo-villain characters do so because we relate to their internal conflict, their mental illness, their need to fake it around everyone close to them. Their turmoil and depression and self destructive behavior are familiar and we see ourselves reflected in their actions. Now, when a person really truly let's their guard down, drops all their layers of facade, and embraces themself, they tend to change demeanor and even personality pretty drastically. It's jarring in real life, so of course when it happens to a fictional character who you usually relate to it is going to be jarring, maybe even more so because it feels like a change you yourself would never go through. I know this sounds bad and people might get at me for it, but...

I believe the issue here is that a large part of Loki's fan base doesn't want him to get better. They don't want him to move past his mental illness, to learn how to cope with anger and disappointment in healthier ways, to be happy. They like his damaged persona, they like the internal conflict. Maybe it's because they're still at that low place themself and feel like a relatable character is getting taken away from them, maybe it's because they don't understand how much being at peace with yourself can alter a person and to them it feels like he's been changed too much. To those of us mostly on the up and up from battling depression and mental illness, it's comforting to see Loki getting a chance to be genuinely happy and accepting of himself.

Sylki and Lokius

First things first, I'm not anti anything. Ship what you want, idc. Personally, I do not see the Sylki dynamic as romantic, but I get why people read it that way. I thought the series did a good job of showing unrequited love, namely Loki falling for Sylvie and Sylvie feeling zero romance towards him. This was aware of his attraction and in the end used it as a distraction so she could get the upper hand. The show played up the potential romance because we are viewing things from Loki's perspective and he's become smitten as a kitten. I do think in the long run they'll have a more sibling-like dynamic, one Loki realizes that you can feel extreme love and care for a person without it being romantic. I enjoyed how the show explored their relationship, though I do wish they hadn't had every character under the sun mention their moment on Lamentis-1 like it was some big deal to bond with someone you're about to die with.

I'm bitter towards the development of Lokius. It had a strong start in the beginning, and in ep 5 had some potential reignited, but then they had Mobius not know who Loki is at the end. I'm still hoping they're playing the long game with this ship and that it'll come to fruition partway through season 2. The chemistry is there, and Mobius knows Loki very intimately and isn't put off by his past. Loki also feels much more at ease around Mobius than he does around Sylvie. It's the comfort of a deep loving bond with Mobius verses the nervousness of a new crush that he feels for Sylvie.

I don't think Loki is quite aware of his feelings for Mobius, simply because it's based in friendship and mutual respect and isn't a hot and heavy lust. Plus, as soon as he was away from Mobius he was thrown into a near death experience with Sylvie and developed a surface crush during their heart to heart. Since Loki's still figuring out what genuine feelings are beyond anger and sadness, he sees the simplistic crush he has on Sylvie as love and the intimate bond he's been forming with Mobius as friendship. He doesn't understand his own feelings yet, but I think he'll figure it out next season. I mean, he was probably already rethinking his feelings for her after she kissed and betrayed him, mentally kicking himself for expecting her to not pull a Loki betrayal like he would've in the past.

The Time Variance Authority

I really like the concept of the TVA, the structure of it, the methods they use, the deeply fucked way they recruit employees, the cult like motto, shady Miss Minutes who is definitely playing her own long game, and the blind acceptance TVA agents have of the Time Keepers' will. It's all very well done... until your dig into the core, aka He Who Remains. They built up the idea that the Time Keepers created the TVA to prevent a multiverse war and that they created agents to enforce their will. Then the creating agents turned out to be fake, the Time Keepers were fake, I expected the reason for the TVA's existence to be fake to. It felt too simple to have it genuinely exist just to keep the multiverse in check. Why the anonymity, unless it's to keep from having agents target and prune versions of himself which.. songs like a decent solution. HWR made it sound as though the multiverse war was just a bunch of versions of himself screwing shit up, so why isn't the TVA's focus on eradicating every other variant of this guy? Sounds a lot easier and nicer than fucking with the free will of every other living being. So either Marvel made a bad call when choosing what HWR's motive was for creating the TVA, or he was lying about it all to cover up something sinister.

Overall Storyline

I'm fairly happy with the plot as a whole. There were some pacing issues and I think a few missed chances for deeper conversations between various characters. While I enjoyed the Loki variants, I honestly would've been happier seeing Tom playing most the variants (except Kid Loki and Classic Loki since they are clearly different age ranges). If there is supposed to be one sacred timeline, it seems off to me that Lokis would be allowed to vary so extremely without it causing a nexus event(an alligator, whose nexus wasn't that he's an animal who obviously can't do any magic much less command Thanos' army, but that he ate someone's cat) and not just in appearance but in life path (ie boastful Loki collected all the infinity stones but it wasn't till he had 6 that he caused a nexus event even though him gaining control of the Soul, Power, and Time stones should've each caused nexus events since on the sacred timeline he never interacts with those 3 and taking any one of them would've fucked up a lot of other timeline parts)

I love the display of Lokis raw power, and 2012 Loki coming to the realization that he's way more powerful than he ever thought. And it wasn't just Classic Loki who spent thousands of years alone honing his skills, 2012 Loki reversed time on a goddamn falling building! I also liked the small magic, the fireworks, the tablecloth blanket, Loki yanking Sylvie away from HWR with just magic.

As someone who is both bisexual and genderfluid, I would've really loved more concrete representation. The comment about there never being another female Loki hit me in the gut; it undermined the Easter egg "Sex: Fluid" on Loki's TVA file. With how big a deal Sylvie being female was made out to be throughout the season, I expected her gender to play a key role in taking down the head of the TVA, like it was foretold that only a female Loki could end it all or some shit.

I don't mind the idea of Loki finding love in a straight passing relationship. I don't even mind the selfcest all that much. It just feels so obvious to me that Sylvie is written as not having any romantic inclination towards Loki, while Mobius is clearly written as falling in love with someone he shouldn't and trying to maintain an heir of professionalism to keep from wrecking his bond with Loki. I really really hope they come through on season 2 and give Lokius the canon relationship and proper representation they deserve.

Mmkay I thinks that's all the thoughts I've got right now. If you've been feeling cheated or clowned by how things went this season, maybe my perspective of things can help ease your pain.

[fific7]

Dangerous and Divine - Part 2

Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Billy Russo is an itch you don’t want to scratch. But he’s all over you like a rash.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly fluff & lemon zest 🍋 The GIF is from Exposed, unreleased pilot show in case you’re wondering 😌... Billy vibes.

Warnings: Some drinking and swearing. Billy could possibly be borderline DUI* on way home.

*Please Don’t Drink & 🚙 ...you don’t want to end up needing 🚑 🚓 🚒 for you or other people.

(My GIF)

You raised an eyebrow, unsmiling, “What’s the price?”

“Come for a drink with me.... but not here. Let’s go somewhere else.”

Laughing quietly, you climbed into the Rolls Royce Wraith, Billy closing the door for you before walking round to the driver’s side. He smiled back, looking across at you as he clipped on his seatbelt, “Somethin’ amusing you?”

“Well here we are, two CEO’s if you will, and this is your ride. Wanna know what mine is?” He nodded, “Yeah, tell me.” “The subway, or these two pretty feet.” He laughed, “Usedta be mine too.”

The car’s engine purred into life and he swung it quickly out of the parking space, heading towards the exit of the underground car park.

“So,” you glanced across at his profile, “where are we heading?” “Not far,” he said, “a neighbourhood bar I hang out at. It’s relaxed, not too busy.”

Shortly after that, he parked the sleek car on the street and the two of you headed into a small bar with low lighting, background music and not too many people in it. The bartender mock-saluted Billy as he stepped inside, and there was a whisky on the bar by the time you two got there.

Billy looked sidelong at you as you perched yourself onto a barstool, “What would you like to drink, sweetheart?” You gave him a ‘Look’, saying, “Sweetheart?”

He smirked, shrugging, “Hey! you are my fake girlfriend, after all.” “Ha ha, okay - you get a pass this time, big boy.” This time he drawled out your name, continuing, “You’ve been lookin’!” leaning back slightly and gesturing at his zip area. You lightly punched his arm, “Referring to your height, smartass!”

Internally, you were cringing a bit. The sensible side of your brain asked you what you thought you were doing, leaving the cocktail party with a complete stranger, and flirting all over him. The devilish part of your brain answered, ‘Living a little! Flirting with a handsome guy! Stop being such a mood killer!’

“I’ll have a mojito for a change, if you don’t mind,” you said. “Coming right up,” said the bartender, who, you realised, had been listening in to your exchange with Billy.

Once your drink was served, Billy gestured to a table and as you walked over to it, you felt a hand placing itself lightly on your lower back. Confident big devil, you thought, sitting down and watching him fold his tall frame onto the fairly small chair, then sliding his long legs under the table.

Spending the next couple of hours with Billy had actually been enjoyable, you thought, as you listened to him telling you some more about his friends Frank and Curtis. He’d told you about serving in the Marines and setting up Anvil once he’d left. You got the feeling that he’d only scratched the surface about it, though.

You’d only just met of course, however you found yourself wanting to know more about the tall ex-Marine.

And you hadn’t told him everything about yourself either. He now knew you were in the catering industry, but you’d skirted round telling him the details about your two cafes, you weren’t sure why. Maybe you wanted to retain a bit of mystery, you thought, mildly annoyed at yourself for feeling the need to do so.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He had asked you why you’d owed your cousin a favour. So you found yourself telling him all about it, and he’d barked out a huge laugh when you’d mentioned ‘possibly’ assaulting your ex and the girl he’d been with. And another one, when you confessed you’d been taken into police custody.

“I’m drinkin’ with a criminal?!” he’d grinned, “Oh, I think I should be leaving right now.” You’d slapped him on the arm, “Shut up, you. It was in self-defence.” He raised his eyebrows nearly up into his hairline, “And how do you make that out?” “My eyes were attacked by what they saw!” you protested, and both of you started laughing at that.

“So he’s an ‘ex’ now, is he?” he asked, taking a sip of his beer, which he’d switched to after one whisky. “You bet your life he is! No man treats me like that,” you shook your head, sinking some of your own beer, which you’d joined him in drinking. His dark eyes found yours, “What would you’ve done if you’d found him actually fucking her?”

Your eyes went wide, “Oh, that’s an easy question, Mr Russo. I’d’ve chopped off some of his lower extremities, of course!”

His screwed his eyes up in mock pain, “Woahhh!!! Brutal.” You shrugged, “Well, you asked.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Back to the car soon after that, then heading to your apartment after Billy offered to drop you off.

That was after he’d asked if you’d wanted to continue the evening at his place. You’d politely replied ‘thanks but no thanks’ or words to that effect. He’d accepted your answer gracefully, so here you were. Truthfully you’d thought about saying yes - he was really hot, and the two of you had been flirting all evening - but you decided you didn’t want to go down the one-night-stand road with him.

You got the feeling that Billy probably indulged in a lot of those. You’d felt some female eyes boring into the back of your head while you were in the bar, and had turned round to find at least three women staring at you as if they wanted you to spontaneously combust.

And you were better than that, you thought, deserved more than one night of sex (never mind how good you were sure it would be) and a walk of shame in the morning.

The car drew up outside your apartment block, and Billy switched off the engine before releasing his seat belt. You looked over at him, smiling, “Why’d you unbuckle, Billy? You’re not coming in,” smiling even wider at him. He smirked, “You sure about that...?” running his long fingers along your arm. You nodded, “Absolutely sure.” He sighed, “Well, I’ve been tryin’ all evening and got nowhere.. so I’ll need to make do with this...” and his mouth was on yours in an instant.

His hand slid up to the nape of your neck and into your hair, pulling you closer to him at the same time. Your hands landed on his chest, subtly stroking his toned muscles. Wanting to deepen the kiss, he sneakily nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue making its way into your mouth as soon as you opened it slightly in surprise. But you weren’t complaining.

Eventually you both had to come up for air, and eyes still closed, you felt his fingers gently running over your cheek, then heard him say your name, voice low and husky. “I wanna see you again.”

You took a breath, before nodding. “Okay, Billy. Call me.” You’d decided to put the ball in Casanova’s court.

He smiled, “You haven’t given me your number. Tryin’ to ditch me?” You dug out one of your business cards from your wallet, and handed it over. It just had your numbers and registered company name on it. “There you go. Let’s just see if you call,” you smirked, “I bet you’re one of these ’treat em mean’ types, aren’t ya Billy?” He started laughing, shaking his head, “Nah, not me,” leaning in and kissing you briefly again.

“I will call you, that’s a promise,” he said as you opened the car door and got out. You smiled back at him, “I believe you, thousands wouldn’t. Night, Billy.”

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” you heard, then in a lower tone, “I’ll be lyin’ awake thinking of what I’m missing out on.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning arrived too soon. You’d dragged yourself up to jump into the shower, which did its job of fully waking you up, so you managed to arrive at your office with at least a bit of a spring in your step.

Your office was above your first café in Chelsea, near the Market. It wasn’t huge, but it was well-equipped and decorated exactly as you liked it. It had a large picture window which let in lots of natural light, and had a view towards 14th Street Park and the Hudson. Entry was via the café, so you made your way through, calling out a ‘buon giorno’ to your three co-workers.

None of you were actually Italian, but it had become a tradition and one of those silly in-jokes between co-workers. Which of course no-one else would find amusing in the slightest but it made sense to you guys, as your café/patisseries were named after Italian cities, and because Italians don’t generally call cafés, cafés ...you had Bar Venezia and Bar Firenze. Clichéd? Oh yes. Did you care? Not in the slightest.

You were incredibly proud of your business and your team. The hard scrabble to get the financing together had been really stressful, but it had all come together in the end with the bank and the investors and now, here you were, captain of your own ship, so to speak.

The two cafés had similar decor, simple but elegant, based on cafés you’d visited in various countries across the world. The second café was not too far away in Greenwich Village. They gave out a nice relaxed vibe just as you’d aimed for and you felt blessed - business was good. You had a good mix of regulars and passing trade, and you’d nodded and smiled at a couple of those regular customers as you’d made your way through.

The morning phone call for a catch-up with your other site made, you were now currently reviewing a whole stack of statistics, and they were beginning to swim in front of your eyes. So you weren’t upset when the internal phone rang, and Jake, your right-hand man, told you that you had a visitor who wouldn’t give his name. “What?” you said, “is he selling something?”

���I don’t think so,” said Jake in a very low voice, so you guessed that Mystery Man was standing somewhere near him. You sighed, “Oh, I’ll be right down.” Anything to get away from the stats for a while, and you quite looked forward to ripping him a new one if he was trying to sell you something.

The first person you spotted as you came through the internal door to the café was Billy Russo. You should’ve guessed, really. He was resplendent in yet another expensive suit, hair perfect, jawline with its beard as sharp as you remembered it. His eyes were locked on you, gleaming with mischief as he anticipated your reaction to his unannounced appearance in your domain.

You came to a halt in front of him, then glanced at Jake as he stood watching you a little nervously. “Thanks Jake, it’s fine, I know him. Could you be an absolute gem and get me a double macchiato, an Americano and a small selection of the pastries, please?” Jake nodded, “Sí, subito.”

You indicated for Billy to follow you to a table at the far end of the bar, tucked away beside the exposed brick wall and near the window, out of earshot of the staff and patrons. You both sat, Billy saying, “Good morning, sweetheart,” as he did. “And good morning to you, Stalker Boy.” Billy grinned, leaning towards you and almost whispering, “That’s so cute, givin’ me a nickname already and I haven’t even got you in my bed yet.” You rolled your eyes heavenwards, sighing out, “Billy! This is my workplace.”

He smiled, “And very impressive it is too, I love it. You have exquisite taste.” “Yes, I know,” you smiled back, “thanks for confirming that.” Now he laughed, and you tried not to stare too much, thinking how good he looked when he did. Jake came over with your coffees and pastries, and you smiled fondly at him as he put them down on the table. “Grazie mille, caro,” you thanked him.

Billy frowned slightly, “Very friendly, huh... you & him, then?” You smirked, “Jealous, Mr Russo?” He scoffed as he picked up a couple of sugar packs and shook them, before pouring them into his coffee. “Just nosy, that’s all.” “Jake is the first person I hired, and he’s just the best. But me and him? No... he likes men. Want me to set you up?” He put his head back and laughed. “No... but thanks for offering. I’m busy over here tryin’ to set myself up with you, in case you hadn’t noticed.” You shook your head, laughing while looking down at the table. This guy is relentless, you thought with a little shiver of undeniable excitement.

He picked up one of the little freshly-baked pastries and bit into it, an appreciative expression on his face as he chewed it. “How’d you manage to guess how I like my coffee?” he carried on. “It’s my business to know my customers,” you shrugged, “and looking at you, Billy Russo, you just scream black watered-down espresso to me, especially having been in the Marines and all,” you grinned. He smirked back at you, “Yeah, well, you nailed it - much as I hate to admit it. And going back to the nicknames thing, you should really call me Sniper Boy.”

“Wow, really?” you replied, eyes wide. Yeah, you’d felt a dangerous vibe coming off Billy and now you knew why. Nodding, he took another bite of his pastry and said round it, “Haven’t you googled me yet, then? I googled you.” “Hey, you’re going to be Stalker Sniper Boy now. And no, I didn’t have time.”

“You’re not doing anything for my ego, you know.”

“That’s not my job,” you shrugged again.

“You’re givin’ me such a hard time, here,” his dark eyes staring into yours, and you felt yourself almost drowning in them. “I’d just like to take you to dinner, that’s all. Friday night, 8pm? I’ll pick you up at your place.”

And while your head screamed ‘Say no!’ at you, your treacherous mouth opened up and said, “Yes, fine. 8 pm and don’t be late.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d walked him to the door when he said he’d better get going. As you reached it, long fingers quickly made their way to the back of your neck, pulling your head towards his and simultaneously, his lips met yours in a long kiss. You tried to pull away from him but he had you in a vice-like grip, and took his own sweet time before breaking away. He placed a second chaste kiss on your cheek and started towards the door, “See you Friday,” in a low voice, paired with a smouldering look at you as he left.

Jake, your two other co-workers Gabrielle and Steve, and your regulars were unsurprisingly all staring at you with blatant and avid interest. Your ex had very rarely visited you at work and when he had, you’d never indulged in PDA’s. You could feel the hot blush on your face as you tried to look nonchalant about the whole thing.

“Nothing to see here,” you muttered and scooted across the café as quickly as you could, heading for the sanctuary of your office.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[purrincess-chat]

Cat’s Definitive Ranking of Every ML Episode as of 4/22/21

Are you guys ready for this? I did the thing. You’re all welcome. Don’t ever ask me for anything again. You can watch me get progressively more unhinged in real time. 

Now, just to preface this, I did not give this too much thought. Most of these are just my gut feelings. I went through every episode and just made some snap judgments based off the lasting impressions I’ve been left with. These are my opinions. If you don’t like them, tough. And also I don’t care. Go spend 4 hours making your own damn ranking. And shut the hell up. Anyway, this is probably the longest post I’ve ever made, so I’m gonna put it all under a read more. Click on it if you have an hour to read it. Okay, here we go!

1.     Origins II- Good starting point for our heroes. Good establishment of canon ships and character dynamics. Umbrella scene literally stole my wallet. Cannot emphasis enough that I am whipped for the umbrella scene. I wrote a whole ass AU just to say how whipped I am for the umbrella scene. In the Rain will play at my wedding. Jk. Weddings are for suckers. But dammit if I don’t want these kids to get married. 10/10

2.     Origins I- Good introduction to lore. Good introduction to characters. Good establishment of status quoyo. Just good. 10/10

3.     Simon Says- Listen, I am nothing if not a shipper at heart. This episode just sparks joy. And the whole series almost ended when Gabriel almost jumped off the roof. I was really rooting for this one. This was the episode where I saw Ladrien and went yes, ma’am, I’ll have one of those. 10/10

4.     Evillustrator- Are you all surprised? Cat, the MC-skeptic ranked the pivotal MC episode so highly? Well, let me tell you all a thing, I started this fandom out a MC shipper because of this episode. Their first interaction is gold. I don’t deny that. I enjoy it. This is the MC dynamic I fell in love with. Yall toxic shippers ruined MC for me when you opened your mouths and spat in the face of Ladrien and baselessly declared MC the sin-ship. We all know it’s Ladrien. Stop kidding yourselves. Boy in leather catsuit? Please. Basic ass vanilla bitches. I’m getting off-topic. Solid episode 10/10. We love to see it.

5.     Stormy Weather- Baby’s first Miraculous episode. It holds a special place in my heart. It’s a solid episode. Good establishment of what the show is. Fun villain. Good times. Fond memories. 10/10

6.     Riposte- Listen, I know I’m an Adrinette stan, but hear me out: Ladrien. It’s just so good. And Kagami was compelling in this episode. It was just really solid. It’s my favorite s2 episode. If you ask me if I want to rewatch Riposte, the answer is always yes. 10/10. We stan.

7.     Gorizilla- Okay, so this episode has some solid Adrinette in it, but the real reason it ranks so high is that fucking Ladrien trust fall. I stare at that scene for hours, you guys. HOURS. It is absolutely just *chefs kiss*. Sometimes when I need a pick-me-up, I just go watch gifs of that catch on loop. 10/10. Beautiful. Radiant. Carefree.

8.     Gang of Secrets- I have been keeping most of my opinions to myself about s4 (mostly because I’ve backed way the hell out of this fandom), but GoS was pretty solid. Gotta say, it’s the first episode in a long time with this show that made me actually excited to see what happens next. Most other episodes I was like, okay, that was cute. The show is still meh overall. But GoS really got me like oh shit, is ML good again? 10/10 for making me feel things again.

9.     Oblivio- Told you guys this one was probably rated higher than I thought. Oblivio is just really fun. There is good Adrinette. That “No wonder I fell in love with you” paired with the softest of Adrien smiles just sends me. And the kisses. The unquestionable trust. These two kids literally woke up together alone in an elevator with no memories and said welp, you’re my boyfriend/girlfriend obviously, I don’t make the rules. Honestly, how anyone could argue that these two dorks aren’t made for each other after that episode is beyond me. 9/10

10.  Backwarder- Okay, I know I am weird and alone for this one, but I really liked this episode. It got a lot of shit for the constipation capsule thing at the end, but like who cares? We finally got some more backstory on Fu. He got a love-interest who is dope as hell. This episode is my favorite lucky charm use ever. Like that queen DID that. I like Backwarder, guys! Fuck off. 9/10.

11.  Kwamibuster- We all know I am a Marinette-stan by this point, but our girl was SHINING this episode. This bitch said gimme all them and let me go whoop this bitch’s ass, and she DID. Hawkmoth could never. Multimouse is a gift, and Marinette is a boss ass queen.  9/10

12.  Chat Blanc- Listen, this episode was very good. I enjoy the idea of my children being happy in another timeline somewhere very much. We got all 4 sides of the square in an episode. It’s just really solid. I know this is the fandom’s favorite, and everyone is gonna shit their pants because it didn’t make my top 10, but this is my list. So, I put it at number 12. It’s good. I like it. It just didn’t steal my wallet like other episodes did. Put the pitchforks down. It’s gonna be okay, you can still love it more than me. 8/10

13.  New York Special- I know everyone felt some type of way about this special, but I wasn’t mad at it. My perception of it might be clouded because I watched it in Disney World where I was chilling and having a great time, but like this special really did somethings for me. The Adrinette was top tier. Tippy top tier. Even though they hurt us in the end, I am okay with it because it just means the children will grow and come out stronger. I don’t care if it’s not technically canon. Ask me if I give a fuck. I don’t. I had fun here. 8/10. Solid.

14.  The Collector- This one might shock a lot of you, but let me paint you a scene. It’s the first episode of s2. We have just come off a 2 year hiatus. The fandom is thriving. We’re hungry for canon content. We have hopes and dreams and expectations. Everyone is going wild with theories. This episode confirmed something that was long since obvious (in my opinion) and ended the stupid arguments people had been having. It made Gabriel actually seem semi-competent. We got our first taste of how Chat/Adrien will react to his dad being Hawkmoth. We got a peek at their life. Adrien’s isolation and sadness. They were so close to figuring it out. The battle was epic. Like Collector really had them on the ropes there for a second. It’s a solid episode, yall. I’m not wrong. Hate me all you want, but this episode brought it. 8/10

15.  Despair Bear- Is this episode up this high because of the Adrinette slow dance scene? YOU BET YOUR ASS IT IS. Okay, but fr though, shipping aside, this episode gave us hope that Chloe was actually gonna redeem herself. I mean, she didn’t but, we didn’t know that at the time. Seeing her run around trying to be nice was fun. And then she actually did something good, and we had a moment of okay, she’s capable. We’ll get there. We didn’t. But what a ride this episode was for making us think she would. 8/10

16.  Startrain- Cat, you’re just ranking all the Adrinette episodes highest. And? What of it? Are you surprised? You clicked a blog that has simping for Adrinette in the description, and you’re surprised all my favorite episodes have Adrinette? I’m not wrong, you’re just an idiot. The Adrinette nap cuddles aside though, this was a pretty good episode. If you don’t think too hard about the whole space thing, we got a look at Max’s life, his mom is a driven, smart lady doing her best. Adrien rebels against papa for once. Alya stops a Lila scheme. Chloe gets to play the hero. Alya and Nino actually investigate like the heroes they are. Gabriel gets to realize what a dumbass bitch he is. I mean. Guys. Startrain is solid. 7.5/10

17.  Sapotis- This one shot up in rank for me after GoS, but tbh it’s always been a solid episode. Alyanette sleepover? Check. Alya becoming a superhero? Check. It’s a fun episode. And looking back, it’s nicely called back to later in GoS. We love it. 7.5/10

18.  Sandboy- Idk why I enjoy this episode as much as I do, but I do. Sandboy is a cute bean. I love his aesthetic. We also get hilarious looks at everyone’s nightmares. “Plagg, who turned you into a sock?” cracks me up cause like Adrien, bby, no XD And Chat Noir’s nightmare. I think it would have been interesting though if since Sandboy dusted the Agreste mansion, if we got a peek at Hawkmoth’s nightmares. It would have been a nice hint of plot to go along with Master Fu’s nightmare. Also Plagg giving the akuma the slip like the clever boy we know he is deep down? 7.5/10

19.  Furious Fu- If you guys haven’t realized by now that I love Fu, idk what you’re doing. Pay attention. I know that some people don’t like him, but I’m just gonna say it, you’re wrong. Fu took care of the Miracle Box for over 100 years, and this episode kind of gives some insight to what the Order was like. Very strict. Lots of rules. And ya know what, Fu said fuck the police, I’m gonna befriend these little magical demigods, and fuck off! Like what an absolute legend. I was really happy to see him living his best life, and that he and Marianne got married because it’s what he deserves. We love to see it. 7.5/10

20.  Gamer- People like to shit on Marinette in this episode, but like honestly, if I were in her shoes, I’d have probably done the same thing if I had the skill. Ain’t nothing wrong with a girl trying to spend time with the boy she likes. And Tom and Sabine being absolute shipping trash. I love them. And the awkward Adrinette. The introduction of the lucky charm that Adrien STILL carries. Wholesome. This was a good episode for their friendship, and we love to see it. 7.5/10

21.  Christmaster- Okay, I know a lot of people hated this episode when it aired, but I thought it was really funny? Everyone skidding around in the ice rink was hilarious. If you don’t take this episode seriously, it’s really fun. Chris is pretty cute, and damn right Ladybug is the best kid in the world. Idk. This episode is fun. I’m not mad at it. Sue me. 7.5/10

22.  Weredad- What? Another MC-heavy episode in Cat’s top 30? Listen, I don’t hate canon MC. The fans just annoy me. This episode was funny. The secondhand embarrassment and cringe was real. Plagg taunting Adrien because he knows the secret was great. Marinette being a self-saving queen was great. It’s a good episode. I like MC, you guys. I do. I swear! 7.5/10

23.  Miraculer- This episode was interesting to me, and I think it’s still a good development episode. For one, Sabrina finally got her own akuma episode named after her. Secondly, because it’s a big step for Chloe, just not in the way we expected. It totally makes sense that Chloe can’t have her Miraculous back because literally everyone knows her identity. Can’t argue that logic. And she is the first person to ever refuse to become akumatized, so like mad respect. I know a lot of people had high hopes for redeemed Chloe (myself included), but I think watching a character fall from revering someone to hating them is also an interesting path. The friends to enemies arc as it were. Idk. I liked this episode. It was an opportunity for Chloe to grow, even if she didn’t in the end, but we’ll talk about that later. 7.5/10

24.  Lady Wifi- I like Alya. I feel like I don’t say that much, and people make some assumptions because of MDCSP, but MDCSP is just a concept I wanted to explore. It doesn’t really reflect how I feel about any one character. Except maybe Lila. And Gabe. But every other spite fic I’ve written branching from Chameleon, the class has been fine. Alya has been fine. So, let it be known that I like Alya. Lady Wifi was a fun episode. Putting aside the fact that she thought Chloe was Ladybug for no reason, I like her akuma. I like the interactions we get with LadyNoir in this episode. After GoS, this episode gets a bit funnier. It’s solid. 7/10

25.  Dark Cupid- I don’t have much to say about this one. LadyNoir. That’s it. That’s the tweet. Send it. 7/10

26.  Volpina- So many things about this episode. It introduced a new antagonist who we didn’t exactly 100% know was going to be an antagonist at the time. This episode sparked a lot of fun fan theories for a while. Who was Lila? How was she going to shake things up? Not to mention this episode gave us a taste of plot and lore, and set up Marinette meeting Master Fu officially. Lots of intrigue sparked from this episode. And that LadyNoir door scene? OOOOOO 7/10

27.  Hearthunter- One word: Adrigaminette. This episode was so cute for them! I loved seeing them all goofing and running around together. Adrien and Kagami being absolutely in love with Marinette when her hair is down. They both love her, I don’t make the rules. Not to mention, Marinette takes a big step by letting her friends be happy without her. Kagami not wanting to hurt Marinette. The drama!! Gabriel being a messy ass bitch to his friends. It loses points for the abomination of an akuma, but overall, I wasn’t too mad at it. Yet. 7/10

28.  Glaciator- More MC in Cat’s top 30? It’s more likely than you think. Listen. Listen… Listen. MC is fine. This episode was the closest thing to fanfiction that we got. The balcony scene was really sweet. I was drinking the irony. We got introduced to Andre the icecream fraud. Andre the please just give me the flavor I asked for man. I could have done without Chat pouting, but the LadyNoir in the end was pretty good. I wish they’d done more with Ladybug’s feelings for Chat. Had her question herself a bit more after this one, but overall, it’s cute. 7/10

29.  Zombizou- A lot of people started hating Mlle. Bustier after this episode, and like I can kind of see it, if I squint, but I did not draw that same conclusion from this episode. Mlle. Bustier just wants good things for all of her students. They’re 14 ffs, she just wants to be a good influence on all of her students and wants them all to be successful. But go off, I guess? Plus, this episode was basically just a spoof on zombie apocalypse movies. We got so many things. Julerose, Myvan, DJWifi. Chloe actually showing some depth and emotion. LadyNoir. We won this episode, babes. Sorry you didn’t get the memo. 7/10

30.  Timetagger- Okay. This is the last episode in the ones that I’d venture to call “good.” Number 30. I enjoyed Timetagger. I know people have feelings about timey-wimey bullshit, and like I’m not gonna lie and say I’m thrilled with it either (I mean, I changed the rabbit’s power in MDCSP) but that being said, Timetagger was so sassy. Bunnix was cool as hell. We get to see that LB and CN are still doing the thing in the future. So many questions sparked from this episode. It was fun. Idk. I liked it. That’s all I got. 7/10

31.  Malediktator- Okay, from this point on, less comments because this is the section that are more or less just meh to me. Like they’re fine. This episode was fine. Chloe was fine. Chat playing with the laser was cute. 6.5/10

32.  Mayura- Adrien’s speech at the end. Nuff said 6.5/10

33.  Ikari Gozen- Ryuko/Ryuuko. Gals being pals. 6.5/10

34.  Reflekdoll- I talked about this earlier, but I don’t hate this episode. It’s not as bad as people make it out to be. Sue me. 6.5/10

35.  Anansi- Nino is the goodest boy. Also I need more of the gang taking Adrien on adventures via Facetime. Stat. 6.5/10

36.  Shanghai- This one is new, and tbh I still haven’t watched it with subs, but I had a good time. Fei was cute. The boy squad was cute. Adrien bonding with Great Uncle Cheng was cute. Hawkmoth getting literally dunked on was *chefs kiss* 6.5/10

37.  Gigantitan- I love overly supportive, ride-or-die girl squad. 6.5/10

38.  Party Crasher- Idk why this episode was funny to me. Kim is the purest bean. We don’t deserve him. 6.5/10

39.  Desperada- This episode was an emotional roller coaster, and even though we all collectively hate Aspik’s stupid egghead, we love the Ladrien this episode provided us. 6/10

40.  Oni-chan- Listen, I loved seeing Lila get a tiny bit of karma even if she made it up in the end. I loved Chat going off on her. I loved seeing her get outsmarted in the end. 6/10

41.  Frightningale- My good lesbian Clara Nightingale. We stan. 6/10

42.  Style Queen- I like Audrey in a “she’s the worst person I’ve ever met, I want to travel the world with her” kind of way. She’s funny to me. Idk. I love her firing everyone. She’s the one I love to hate. She’s the worst, but we love her for it. Plus this episode gave us Plagg’s adorable little Cataclysm that destroyed half the city. 6/10

43.  Gamer 2.0- Chat confidently strutting in heels made this episode worth it. And we get to see the beginning of Marinette being overwhelmed. Plus it was the return of gamer!nette. 6/10

44.  Troublemaker- I don’t hate this episode as much as the next person either. It was fine. Jagged is a manchild, but we love him for it. He’s a Marinette stan which like mood. The Adrinette at the end was cute. I wasn’t mad at it. Idk. It’s fine. 6/10

45.  Reflekta- Where are all my Juleka stans at? I loved the LadyNoir banter in this ep. V. cute. 6/10

46.  Dark Owl- This episode was fun. And it really shows their level of trust. Plus Plagg and Tikki interacted. 6/10

47.  Timebreaker- Have I ever mentioned that I like Alix? I like Alix. 6/10

48.  Silencer- I don’t hate this episode as much as you’d expect me to, and that is 100% because of the LadyNoir. 5.5/10

49.  Prime Queen- Chat purrs. 5.5/10

50.  Syren- I think the fish power-up is adorable. Ondine is a gem. Kim is a pure bean, but we been knew. 5.5/10

51.  Befana- I like Gina, but this episode fell flat for me. Almost as flat as the animation. 5.5/10

52.  Reverser- Another episode that everyone hates that I am actually fine with. This episode made me like Nathaniel more. Probably because I was previously indifferent toward him. Marc is cute too. 5.5/10

53.  Mr. Pigeon- Marinette is one clever girl. And the Adrinette hand-touch. 5.5/10

54.  Felix- Felix is a gremlin of chaos. A true chaotic neutral. He gives his uncle the finger, and I think that’s beautiful. 5.5/10

55.  Truth- Bet you expected this episode to be higher. While I did enjoy watching toxic people’s world crumble, this episode still gets a meh from me dog. 5/10

56.  Lies- The Adrigami was cute, and I respect Kagami as a character. The akuma could have been better tho. 5/10

57.  Princess Fragrance- Not much to say here. 5/10

58.  Copycat- 5/10

59.  Bubbler- 5/10

60.  Mime- 5/10

61.  Animan- 5/10

62.  Robostus- 5/10

63.  Ladybug- This episode ranks this low purely because I don’t care about GabeNath, and I hate that Lila won something in the end. But Adrien saying I won’t hesitate, bitch! At the end was nice to see. 5/10

64.  Catalyst- I know I ranked Mayura way higher, but Catalyst fell flat for me. Like it was fine. Wasn’t as into it though. 4.5/10

65.  Puppeteer- One of my favorite lucky charm uses. 4.5/10

66.  Pixelator- My favorite Cataclysm. 4.5/10

67.  Horrificator- That almost-Adrinette kiss tho 4.5/10

68.  Pharaoh- 4.5/10

69.  Kung Food- 4.5/10

70.  Rogercop- 4/10

71.  Guitar Villain- 4/10

72.  Dark Blade- 4/10

73.  Bakerix- 4/10

74.  Antibug- And now onto the bottom 10. To start us off, I will just say: UGH, this episode annoyed me. First of all, Sabrina didn’t even get her own episode. Chloe was a piece of shit. Idk why they made Ladybug the one in the wrong when Chloe was being obnoxious. Ugh. 3/10

75.  Captain Hardrock- I’m gonna be honest. My apathy for this episode has grown into loathing. Toxic stans are 100% to blame. Birthday ruining, bitches. This is the reason I threw a breakup bash after Truth. Yall deserved it. 3/10

76.  Christmas Special- I didn’t hate this episode as much as everyone, but it still wasn’t great. 2.5/10

77.  Stormy Weather 2.0- This episode was really dumb. It didn’t need to exist. 2.0/10

78.  Queen Wasp- Why did we give Chloe a Miraculous after this episode? 2/10

79.  Animaestro- Did we really need a self-insert? Did we really? 2/10

80.  Puppeteer 2.0- Listen, this episode would have made more sense in s1 or at the very latest early s2. Adrien gave a whole ass speech on how great Marinette is, then he turns around and is like idk if she likes me… Clean it up. 2/10

81.  Miracle Queen- I could talk at length about how much I hate the ending of this episode and what they did with Chloe and Master Fu, but we’re just going to remain calm and give it a solid 1.5/10

82.  Frozer- This episode made no goddamn sense. I call bullshit on so many things. Just ugh. 1/10

83.  Chameleon- Surprisingly, even though this episode sparked many, many spite fics out of me, it’s not my least favorite because at least Ladybug semi-redeemed this episode. Still really dumb and ooc tho. 1/10

84.  Feast- Okay, okay, okay, here we are. Bottom of the barrel. Cat’s most hated episode, and you wanna know why? You want to know why this episode fills me with the rage? Because we spent two fucking seasons building up all this mystery and lore and intrigue surrounding Fu’s big mistake, and they dropped the fucking ball! They did my mans so dirty! They could have really deepened his character, deepened the Order, deepened anything other than whatever fucking affair Gabriel and Nathalie have going on, but NO. They made it some stupid, bland-ass thing that got resolved magically in the end, then just ignored it for the rest of the season. I will never not be salty about how they did my boy Fu in this show. I’m happy he found his peace, but fuck if I’m not livid about how they did it. Whatever. Chat being done with Ladybug’s shit when they’re about to get eaten was funny I guess. .5/10

[friendofbats]

Ooh, I love to hear your thoughts on Linus from Stardew Valley

Thank you so much for the ask, Emerald! 💕

I know my blog is primarily Harvest Moon, but it's really cool that I get to talk about Stardew a little bit here. :) Here are some of my thoughts on him (from the questions on the linked ask game above):

How I feel about this character: I love Linus. Out of all the characters in Stardew Valley, he is EASILY my favorite, even more so than Sebastian and Haley (and believe me, I adore them). He's a kindhearted soul, nonjudgmental, and just trying to make it by in life. All he asks is that nobody judge him in return. Plus, he has an air of intrigue around him -- the fact that he's friends with the Wizard makes me think he's not all human, that maybe he has magical abilities too. Considering there are monsters and dwarves in Pelican Town, it wouldn't surprise me at all.

All the people I ship romantically with him: To be honest… I don't really ship him with anyone. I don't really see him as the romantic type in the first place. Having said that, if he was ever made an available bachelor, you bet your ass I'd be going after him haha. I guess you could say I ship him with the farmer!

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: -- Linus & Farmer -- Every time I play this game, I make sure to become Linus's friend first lol. I can't help myself! He's such a softie. He's also pretty easy to befriend, since he enjoys most of the things in the forest (including salmonberries!), so why not? :) -- Linus & Wizard -- I LOVE that this is part of the game. I really want to know why Linus and Wizard are friends, and I touched on this earlier, but I do wonder if the friendship has something to do with (in my theory) not entirely human. Maybe he's an apprentice or wizard in disguise? Maybe they're related??? Either way, I love the idea that they are close somehow, whether it be because they're friends or because they're blood related in some way. I feel like the two must understand each other better than anyone else. :) -- Linus & Gus -- I know these are all canon friendships, although I guess you can't really call Gus and Linus "friends". It's really more that Gus treats Linus with respect and kindness and offers him fresh food anytime he wants. But I could see a really good friendship coming out of it. I bet Linus would have TONS of stories to tell Gus, and Gus would happily listen and enjoy what he has to say. Gus is a character I hugely respect too because of how he treats Linus… especially since everyone else in town seems to either ignore him or pretend like he's subhuman, which kind of makes me sad (although, unfortunately, it is kind of realistic).

My unpopular opinion about this character: Hmm… y'know, I don't know if I have any? I feel like my opinions about him tend to be pretty popular -- he's a pretty well-loved character in the fandom (for good reason lmao). I guess one thing I'll say that I know gets talked about every once in a while is... I DON'T think Linus is the one who pick-pockets from you when you pass out from exhaustion. He has no need for your possessions and he's nowhere near that malicious and two-faced, so why would he bother? I really think the thieves are outsiders (or hell, it could be Louis lol).

One thing I wish would happen/had happened with this character: I wish you could marry him! Lol, well, him and anyone else in this game who happens to be an adult bachelor/ette. But him in particular -- I think even though he says he's happy being out in the wild (and I believe him), I still want to provide him a home and fresh food to come to if he ever wanted it. I know they added this in for Penny and Pam, but I wish there was something for Linus too. I really just wanna treat the guy and give him something in return somehow lmao.

Favorite friendship for this character: Err, I basically just kinda answered this above lol, since Linus doesn't really have any other relationships in the game, unfortunately.

My crossover ship: Well, not a ship, per se, but wouldn't it be so cool if Linus and Murrey from AWL knew each other in passing somehow? :)

[aseioh]

Of Stars and Moonlit walks pt.2/?

Notes: Some housekeeping first. Donna for the purpose of this story will be based partly on her unused content from the game as well as some canon info. This means that she has a darker background than the one that was used in the game proper as I would really like to incorporate those into this story.

Another thing is that as you’ve probably read from the previous chapter. The characters here are slightly out of character, I’m afraid this is entirely my problem as I’m not used to writing stories

----

Chapter 2: Dinner with a show

Dinner with the Dimitrescus’ was never a quiet affair, in fact it is the very definition of a happy family dinner. The three daughters vying for their Mother’s attention, retelling their afternoon adventures. Alcina sitting at the head of the table patiently listening to everything her daughters tell her, her smile so much different from the usual smirk or predatory grin she sports during the meetings with Mother Miranda and the other Lords.

It made her look softer; Motherhood seems to suite her like her gloves.

At the back of Donna mind, she remembers her childhood before things went bad. Sunday roast dinners made by Mother, Father sneaking from behind to leave a kiss on her Mother’s cheek. Yes, everything seems so simple back then.

The dining room itself is small and cozy, Donna guesses that this room is where the family usually dines compared to the cavernous dining hall that exits into their courtyard.

Across the table Bela has been silently studying their mysterious guest. Of course she has been joining her sisters retell their afternoon escapades in the garden and how they had manage to scare the new maids. But throughout dinner she has been subtly glancing at Donna.

The women certainly is interesting, so quiet compared to her doll that you would have imagined that the chatty doll is the Lord and the woman is the puppet. But she had listened to her Mother’s lesson unlike her two sisters. She knows who Donna Beneviento is, what the woman is capable of.

What an interesting study, I wonder what is behind that veil.

‘She must be pretty.’ She thought as she swirls the wine in her glass.

“So Angie, wanna play hide and seek? Bet you can’t find us! We’re very good at that game” Daniela challenges Angie. The moment that the youngest sister saw the moving doll she has become utterly fascinated by it.

It was obvious that Angie was the greatest doll Donna possesses, as she has mostly used the doll as an extension of her psyche. That said, the doll seems to be capable of autonomous actions based on the way she flitters around the room inspecting various stuff that catches her attention.

“Ha you’re talking to the greatest hide and seeker! Hehehe, alright. Let’s play” Angie exclaimed hopping up and down Donna’s side.

“she really is one of a kind huh?” Cassandra muses.

“Yes, my Father built and gifted her to me on my birthday, we’ve been inseparable since. When I’ve received my gift from Mother Miranda I’ve decide to share some of my psyche with her. In a way she is an extension of myself, albeit a rather excitable one at that.” Donna explains as she looks on fondly at Angie.

As Alcina stands up from her chair and offers her hand to Donna “Yes well enough of that melancholy dear, shall we retire or will you join me for a short night cap.”

“And girls if you are going to play with Angie make sure that you don’t cause too much noise. God knows we need some rest after today.”

“Yes Mother!” the three answers in unison

“You guys hide, and I’ll seek” Daniela announces as she grins predatorily. The ‘preys’ have already scattered before she even finished her sentence. After counting to ten she proudly bellows “READY or NOT, HERE I COMEEE!!” with that she disintegrates into hundreds of flies intent on ‘hunting’ her preys.

----

Adjourning to another room the two Lords sit in front of a roaring fire. Alcina casually cupping one of her finest vintages, while Donna content on sipping her tea.

“Donna when I asked you to join me for a night cap, I didn’t expect you to drink tea” Alcina chuckles at Donna’s preferred drink.

Donna having removed her veil as she was alone with Alcina responds by standing up and taking the crystal decanter by the table. She pours a fingers worth of aged whiskey into her cup. Smirking she raises her tea laced whiskey to Alcina and gulps down a mouthful.

Seeing this Alcina roars into laughter. “You really can surprise anyone” Wiping a stray tears from her eyes “and that is why anyone who underestimates you meets their end.”

“At that I can only blame them” Donna answers. The two fell into a companionable silence, the silence only broken by the occasional cracking of the fire.

“Tell me Donna, how is your project with Heisenberg. I do hope the man is not running you haggard. I know that it concerns Mother Miranda’s plan but you shouldn’t run yourself to hard. Let Heisenberg sweat a bit”

“Thank you for your concern Alcina, but you shouldn’t worry. Believe it or not Karl and I are very efficient with our work, and yes, I let him do all the heavy lifting. I’m just there when he needs a second opinion on the new ‘soldat’ hardware.” Donna levels Alcina with a grateful smile, who knew that the tallest and blood thirsty Lord of the village have a soft spot for her ‘siblings’.

“Yes, yes I’m just worried that Mother Miranda has been running you ragged. Lord knows she’s been going full tilt with her so called ‘plan’.

“Actually Alcina, may I ask you for a favor?”

“Depends, does it involve the depletion of our whiskey stores?” At that Alcina couldn’t help but give a short chuckle.

“Very funny. But no. I would never deprive Karl of his favorite drink.” Donna shakes her head, pin it to the back of her head ‘Alcina is a funny half-drunk.’

“No, I was wondering if you would allow me to tour your greenhouse. I would love to see your plants and roses.”

“Is that all? Of course, I’ll ask Bela to take you tomorrow. She’s usually the one to tend to my roses, she’s picked up the hobby after reading some books and my roses have never looked livelier.”

“Thank you.”

-----

A knock on the door alerts Donna that her companion for the day has arrived. From what Angie has relayed to her last night, the girls had fun with their game with Angie being declared the ultimate victor followed closely by Cassandra. Apparently being a small doll makes it near impossible to find her inside the huge castle.

“Good morning Donna, shall we go to the greenhouse?” Bela extends her arms towards the hallway as they make their way to the greenhouse.

“You look pretty today Bela! I love your dress, it suits you so much it brings out your eyes!” Angie says as she turns her head to face Bela. Donna who has been carrying Angie had to think hard on not dropping the doll or stop walking.

Bela for her part slightly blushes at the compliment. “You really think so Angie?” Angie enthusiastically nods her head, fearing that it might fall off Donna decides to intervene.

“Angie’s right Bela, you look really beautiful today.” At that Bela’s blush blossoms like one of her Mother’s roses. “Thank you, Angie, Donna”

“I must say though, your hands are beautiful Donna, they look so soft-“ Bela stops herself before she could say more and embarrass herself further. ‘Really Bela, her hands are pretty, Mother Miranda above what are you a child!?’ she chides herself.

Not knowing how to respond to such a compliment herself, Donna instead slows down her walk and whispers, “Thank you, Bela” Although Bela doesn’t seem to hear as she was busy chiding herself.

Thankfully the two arrive at the Castle’s greenhouse without any hitch.

Entering the great building Donna is surprised by the sheer number of plants that the building houses. Exotic plants that can only survive in tropical climates seem to thrive even in their Romanian climate. At the center of place is Alcina’s roses, the bushes so lush its as if each rose were painted there. Truly they were the main attraction of the greenhouse.

“They’re beautiful, and is it true that you yourself tended to these flowers?” Donna enquired as she caresses the petals of a rose amazed at the softness of it.

“Well, yes. I read in the library on the optimal way to care for the roses. I though that I could try my hands on caring for them. To ward off boredom of course, Mother said that we should look for hobbies and stop terrorizing the hired help” Bela explains as she tries not to blush on how Donna touches the plant.

“I don’t think it’s just that Bela. You have a big heart. You’ve managed to grow something from this barren and frozen place. You gave it your time and love and in return, they bloom for you.” Donna says quietly voice soft it’s as if the wind itself is talking.

Bela blushes furiously and is left speechless. ‘this is the third time she’s been made to blush! What the hell Bela get a hold of yourself’.

Donna sensing that she has said too much tries to back paddle. “I’m sorry it’s just how I see here. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable.”

“No thank you Donna, really that’s the sweetest thing anyone has said to me.”

Thankfully the awkwardness of the place changes when Cassandra barrels through the greenhouse. “Lady Beneviento, may Angie play with us again? We want a rematch with her. This time we’ll definitely win” She says with fire in her voice.

And even though her sisters have said that she can sometimes gloss over and ‘cannot read the room’, Cassandra knew for certain that something has happened. It might be the blush her elder sister is sporting or the subtle twitch of Donna’s hands.

But there are more pressing matters at hand, a Champion needs to be dethroned. Therefore she filed the weird atmosphere around Donna and Bela for another time.

At the mention of the challenge Angie becomes animated and hops off to run into Cassandra. The three leaves Donna alone to ponder the situation inside the greenhouse.

Perhaps her stay at Castle Dimitrescu would be full of surprises after all.

----

Another note: I’ve also been made aware that Donna may suffer from Agoraphobia. I’m sorry that I haven’t taken that into consideration when writing this story, in this case Donna just suffers from a slight fear of unknown people and will not talk at all if she’s in front of new people (which won’t technically happen in this fic)

[gellavonhamster]

cold weapons

Suicide Squad (2016) || Captain Boomerang/Katana || post-canon

ao3 link eng || this was first written and published on ao3 in Russian in 2017 but I didn't attempt to translate it into English back then.  

“So, what do you think of them?” Colonel Flag asks.

Tatsu puts the folder containing the rap sheet of Waylon Jones, better known as Killer Croc, on top of three other folders.

“They’re complicated,” she replies after giving it some thought.

The materials in these folders could have formed her first impression about the members of Task Force X – or, as Lawton has aptly put it, the Suicide Squad. Could have, but did not, because they were given their first task earlier than expected. Which is why she doesn’t say “villains” or “scoundrels” or “worst team imaginable” – her first impression of them was formed in combat, and then in an empty bar in Midway City where they all drank together thinking it may be the last drink in their lives. She remembers all of this and says ‘complicated’.  

“Very tactful of you,” the colonel chuckles. Then again, what kind of colonel is he now – an unwashed shirt, black circles under the eyes. Just another guy struggling with a deluge of work, a hard-hearted boss, and a troubled relationship with his girlfriend. “But yeah, they definitely aren’t simple,” continues Rick Flag, one of her few friends in the country that will never become her home, and Tatsu cannot suppress a tired smile.  

“You like them.”

“They’re… tolerable,” Rick admits, and takes another sip of coffee. Lately he seems to be living only on coffee and whiskey and the verb “must” and (so Tatsu supposes, although they don’t talk about that) the hope that June Moone, who still hasn’t fully recovered from all the horrors she’s been through, will be all right – and will stop isolating herself and avoiding him. These means for not letting yourself just fall down and never get up are far from being reliable, but Tatsu herself lives mostly on revenge and duty and, for that matter, whiskey as well, to a certain degree, so it’s not for her to judge. “Most of them, at least. All of them minus the Australian.”

“At least he’s a good fighter,” Tatsu points out. This is the only good thing she can say about Captain Boomerang with full confidence.  

“He’s not cut out for teamwork.”

“When we were fighting the Enchantress, it didn’t look to me like that.”

She does not put much meaning into these words. It’s just that at some point Captain Boomerang saved her, and she saved him – and good thing they’re even, because the last thing she needs is to owe a favour to someone so incompatible with the very concept of duty. She could have said much about the man who tried to escape at the very beginning of the mission and got a teammate killed (and for some reason stood up for El Diablo when Harley Quinn lashed out at him at the bar, and for some reason came back before the battle after trying to desert), but the only thing she’s sure of is that he’s a fine weapon; she can confirm that, being a weapon herself. At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from him.      

At the end of the day, that is all that’s required from her, too.

 ***

 It is possible that what she said about Digger Harkness sticks in Rick’s memory, because when the need to comb the area arises during the next mission, he sends the two of them to search through the same building.

“If he gets up to something, do whatever you want to him. No one’s gonna weep for him,” he flings off. This is in the heat of the moment, of course – Boomerang almost got into a fight with Killer Croc on the helicopter over some nonsense. Or rather, it was Croc that almost got into a fight with Boomerang after the latter provoked him. Complicated.  

“You heard that, darl?” Boomerang addresses her with a smile so wide as if he hasn’t heard the last remark. “I’m all yours.”

Tatsu looks the other way and pointedly takes her sword out of its sheath – not completely, just a little. No further comments follow, and they part company – Deadshot with Croc, Flag with his team of spec ops, Tatsu with Boomerang – and go on a recce.  

In the basement, they discover something that looks like a laboratory – if a place so far from being sanitary may even be called one. All their hopes to move without making a sound crumble as soon as they enter the room: the floor is covered with broken glass. Those who ran the place must have escaped in haste and couldn’t take the entire stock of the serum with them, so they opted to destroy most of it. Tatsu’s attention is immediately drawn to the object on the table in the middle of the room – a metal container with tubes going from it to several smaller vessels. She heads straight for the table, shards crunching underfoot. Boomerang follows her, apparently kicking the largest shards on purpose so that they fly in all directions.      

“Looks like a hooch still,” he comments, having come closer, and gives a whistle. “Whoa, fuck, is that blood?”

Compared to the first task of their squad, this one looks almost effortless. Two gangs, the members of one of which possess the formula of the serum that grants superpowers to those who take it. A gun battle, collateral damage, the entire district on lockdown. If a few people weren’t noticed literally floating through the sky, the police would have been handling this. But this is an emergency, which is why they’re here, and the flying gangsters aren’t flying anymore, for Lawton is an exceptionally good shot.    

As it turns out, the serum that sparked the conflict is based on metahuman blood – hardly donated voluntarily.

“I’ll contact Colonel Flag,” says Tatsu, eyes locked on the bloodied tubes, and then someone grabs her by the neck.

For the first time in her life, she really has to fight blindly – because her enemy is invisible.  

Later, when the dead bodies gradually become visible on the floor like an eerie animated movie, it turns out there were four of them. Before that, Tatsu manages to lose her sword, recapture it, almost choke when an invisible hand squeezes her neck, slash one of the attackers in half, and plunge the blade into another’s stomach. Boomerang takes care of the other two, knocking over the container in the process.    

Tatsu is listening to the silence that came after the fight, wondering if any other invisible foes are lurking around the corner, when she feels that something is wrong. Something is wrong with her – she just can't figure out what. Sometimes it happens that one feels unwell but cannot determine what exactly the problem is – she is experiencing something similar now. Until she realizes: the mask. Until she looks up and makes eye contact with Captain Boomerang, who is staring at her and grinning.  

“You lost anything, doll?” Harkness inquires innocently, with an emphasis on the last word, and his smile grows even wider and cockier.  

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. The invisible man she fought hand to hand tore off her mask, and she didn’t even notice. But her partner, blast him, did – and picked it up.  

“Give it back,” Tatsu demands, hand outstretched. She feels naked. In combat, during the mission, she is Katana, a single whole with her sword. A cold weapon. No one needs to see her face. Truly, if she was wearing only the mask and nothing else, she would have felt less exposed – all right, this is an overstatement, and she doesn’t even want to imagine such a situation. Meanwhile, Boomerang is in no hurry to return the mask.      

“What did ya call me when that fucker was about to stab me?” he asks. Tatsu clenches the sword hilt. There is no telling how many enemies drunk on the magic serum are hiding in this house, and he’s dawdling. “You said…”

Damn it, what did she say? She saw one of the invisibles creeping up on him while he was fighting another – a bloodstain was floating through the air. She shouted…

“I said ‘George’”. Isn’t your name George Harkness?”

“You bet it is. It’s just weird. Most people don’t call me George, y’know.”  

“How do they call you then?”

“Digger. Boomerang. Boomer. That Prick. All sorts of things, but never George. But you,” he winks, “can call me whatever ya want. I liked the way you say my name.”

“Give. Me. The mask.”

“And the magic word?”

“I will chop your hand off,” as a proof of her intentions, she puts the blade against his extended hand that is holding her mask. In fact, she would face no consequences for doing so. No one’s gonna weep for him.      

Harkness makes a helpless gesture and hands her the mask.

“Can’t say no to you, luv.”

The mask helps her conceal her identity, but what is more important is that it helps her conceal needless emotions. Tatsu really hopes that her facial expression isn’t giving away that she’s ill at ease now. This is a weakness; weaknesses are not to be demonstrated. She feels deeply relieved when she puts the mask back on.  

“Let’s get out of here,” she commands, turns around, and heads for the exit. Harkness trails behind.

“It ain’t fair, by the way. You know my real name, but I don’t know yours,” he muses. “Care to introduce yourself, eh?”  

He asks the same question at least three times more before they return to Belle Reve, and each time she ignores him.

 ***

 A week later, he still doesn’t know her name – but he learns something else.

They do away with the last members of the recent gang on the outskirts of the city. Both wretches have overused the unfortunate serum, in keeping with the best traditions of the clichéd movies about superheroes and supervillains that Hollywood keeps producing for some reason, even though it is more and more often possible to see nearly the same thing on the news. As a result, one of them got puffed up almost to the size of the creature that Superman died fighting, and the other couldn’t control the flames bursting from his mouth. He burned half of the shopping centre with customers, retail workers, and guards. With teenagers in the bowling alley on the second floor and children in the playroom on the first.    

Santana… wouldn’t have approved.

Both problems eliminated, they leave: the firefighters and the cops will take it from here. Flag’s spec ops stay behind, because officially it is their victory; the general public shouldn’t know about the existence of Task Force X. Through backyards, they retreat in the direction of the abandoned construction site on the other side of the street; a car has been sent to pick them up there.  

There is a workers’ trailer still standing by the construction pit. The door is not locked, and Rick, Deadshot, Croc, and Boomerang go inside. Jones’s arm is broken: his inhuman strength notwithstanding, he still was no match for his enemy – not the fire-breather, but the other one. Tatsu leaves them to figure out how to make a temporary sling, and wanders away. Not far from the trailer, a piece of tarpaulin stretched over the fence has come off, and she can see the building across the street. Tatsu sits down on the ground, puts her arms around her knees, and stares at the dandelions growing by the fence.  

In her head, flames are raging.

She doesn’t look up, neither when she hears the footsteps approaching, nor when Harkness – and it is him, no one else in the Squad reeks of the mixture of booze and cologne like that – sits down next to her and cracks open a can of beer.  

“You want some?” he nudges her. What extraordinary generosity. It is, however, perfectly possible that if she says yes, he’ll reply along the lines of “Well, then go and buy yourself some.”  

“No,” Tatsu replies without looking and, after a short pause, adds, “Thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

With a sigh, she accepts the can from his hands, and takes a sip.

“This is disgusting,” she whispers, and takes another.  

Harkness just snorts and opens another one. For a little while, they sit side by side in silence, drinking each from their own can, and study the wall opposite through the mesh of the fence – like out of a prison window. Old advertisements that are half torn off, graffiti, a writing proclaiming that life fucks us all – plenty of things to stare at to avoid looking the person next to you in the eye.  

“So what the hell happened to ya?” Boomerang asks, and suddenly she could do with some serum for invisibility or, better yet, disappearing completely. Naturally, it is a fleeting impulse; she has no right to disappear. She has obligations – towards Flag, towards Waller. Towards herself.    

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? You zoned out, Flag shouted himself hoarse before you heard him. Like you were someplace else. Didn’t ya?”  

Why do you need to know? Tatsu thinks. If she almost rushed headlong into the fire, it’s her own business. If it only seemed to her that someone was there, it’s her own business. If she’s going to see things that aren’t there for the rest of her life, it’s her own business. He shouldn't have spoken. There is something comforting about being silent together.    

“Nah, you don’t have to say if you don’t wanna,” Boomerang assents, and takes another pull on his can. “I just thought that you, well. Might wanna talk to someone.”  

And they fall silent again. Yet now Tatsu feels awkward, which makes her angry at herself. She’s not obliged to pour out her heart to anyone who shows something that looks like care.    

This silence doesn’t make it any easier.

“I have… bad memories,” she finally says. Now it won’t be as awkward: she answered his question. It won’t be, right? “About a fire”.

Harkness nods, looking at her attentively.

“Someone you knew died, aye?”

“My children,” she hears herself say, and wishes to disappear again.

“Fuck,” Boomerang says, embarrassed, and – unbelievable – looks like he actually feels bad about starting this conversation. “I’m sorry, I… well, uh, I had no idea.”  

“It’s okay,” Tatsu says mechanically. Nothing is okay: she can still see Yuki’s tear-stained face, still hear Reiko’s voice, she is still watching the flames run up the curtains that she and Maseo picked together, she is still breathing in the smoke and still cannot believe she deserves a gulp of fresh air. She should have saved them. All of them.  

Boomerang looks at her incredulously but doesn’t say anything, and bit by bit, the silence that she doesn’t want to run from returns – the kind of silence in which one is not alone.    

Then there are footsteps again, and Flag approaches them.

“There you are,” he says with relief as soon as he sees her. Rick does not let himself overstep the limits of formality – they’re on a mission, after all – but he has obviously been worried. At the sight of Harkness, he frowns warily. “You! Quit getting on her nerves.”

“Who’s gettin’ on her nerves, Colonel? I was just tryin’ to help,” Harkness protests. It appears Rick’s words have wounded him a little.  

“He was,” Tatsu says. “It’s all under control, Colonel Flag.”  

Flag shifts his gaze to her and then to Boomerang again, and nods.

“Okay. In any case… follow me. We’re leaving.”

Tatsu gives her unfinished beer to Boomerang.

“Don’t talk about this to anyone,” she tells him. This might be an order or a request; she doesn’t really know.

He nods, and she thinks absentmindedly: who would have thought this man knows how to make a solemn face.

“Thank you,” she says again, hoping that he understands that this is not just about the beer or his promise to keep his mouth shut.

***

 After a few days, Tatsu comes to visit him. In prison.

Actually, she comes to visit all of them, of course. Not more than fifteen minutes alone with each of them – Waller wouldn’t allow more. This request seems to have surprised her, but Tatsu is certain that Waller is already picturing the new threads she can use to manipulate her special operations puppets. So it is possible that one day this decision will blow up in Tatsu’s face – or in the faces of all of them. But she cannot shake off the feeling that she must do this – so that someone except Rick, who is already dealing with a lot these days, would notice in time if the inmates are treated with undeserved cruelty. So that she knows what’s on their minds, because it is safer to fight side by side with the people whose line of thought she can understand at least roughly. So that there is some kind of variety in their lives between the missions.  

This is why she visits all three of them. Killer Croc, who looks like he’s not surprised to see her in the slightest and doesn’t really seems to care that she came, but doesn’t have any issue with that either. Deadshot, who looks like he is surprised, but doesn’t seem to mind answering her questions when she notices a stack of letters in the corner and asks him how his daughter is doing. And Captain Boomerang, who, when she enters his cell, looks like he can’t figure out if he’s dreaming.

“Katana?” he frowns perplexedly. He’s stripped to his waist, so she can see a couple of fresh scars he brought back from the last mission, and he’s got a black eye – when Tatsu saw him last, he had not. Must have quarrelled with the guards again. “What are you doing here?”  

“I came to see you.”

For a moment he seems not to understand what she just said. Then he breaks into a smile – or rather a grin, wide and pleased. Very pleased.  

“Aha! Knew it would end up like this,” he pronounces in triumph.

“Like this?”

“You,” he looks like he’s just proven a theorem of immense complexity, “missed me.”  

“I haven’t missed you, Captain.”

A very, very pleased grin.

“And still you’re here.”

“I visited Deadshot and Killer Croc earlier,” Tatsu says, and sees his facial expression change instantly. Not for long: the grin is quick to return, and she wouldn’t be able to tell right away that he’s disappointed.    

“Did ya now? And how are our fellas doing? Better than me, I reckon?”

“So it would seem. Did you fight the guards?”

“Why do you care, gorgeous?”

Indeed, why does she? Most likely, he picked a fight himself – and got his just deserts.  

“Make up your mind,” Tatsu says, “if you think that I missed you or that I don’t care.”

Harkness chuckles and really seems to ponder over this for a while.

“Beats me,” he concludes at last. “Care to throw some light on it?”  

No, Tatsu thinks, I don’t get it myself and I’m not sure I want to.

Instead of answering, she comes closer to him – so close that she can smell his sweat – and studies his face. She has to look up to be able to do that, which must look comical. Then again, he’s hardly stupid enough to laugh at her height or anything else about her, especially when she’s armed and he is not.  

“You lost a tooth. What happened?”

“Didn’t get along with one of the Wall’s watchdogs.”

“You could have tried not to look for trouble for a change,” all of a sudden, Tatsu realizes that she’s mad. Really mad at him. They might get dragged to another mission this instant; whether they like it or not, they have to be in good enough shape to protect the society that the most of them have to atone before at least partially. They shouldn’t spend their energy and health on nonsense. Black eyes and knocked-out teeth are nothing, but it mustn’t come to any of them being out of action when all of them are needed. All their powers, all their skills. All the anger they should rather aim at something other than the people who can just press a certain button at any point – and dispose of the wilful weapon.

Boomerang bares his teeth – not like Croc, of course, but still threateningly. He looks dangerous now – big, sturdy, more than a head taller than her. But he still isn’t more dangerous than her – and both of them are aware of that.  

“And they could have tried,” he speaks through his teeth, “not to talk shit about my mother for a change. They wanna talk shit about me, they can knock themselves out. I’ve heard enough ‘bout myself, I don’t give a flying fuck about what else they gonna say. But they’d better leave my mother out of it.”

So that’s what it is. They have found a quick and easy way to infuriate the man who has “MUM” tattooed on his chest. In uneven letters, like a child's handwriting. Tatsu noticed that tattoo as soon as she came in but didn’t look too closely at it. Now she feels like she has the right to look, to let her gaze slip lower, at the ridiculous writing that heaves with each furious breath of his, and then to avert her eyes at once.    

“They have power, and you have nothing,” she says. “Do you enjoy being their plaything?”

“Oh, so I’m a plaything, darl? And do I have much choice who to be now? In these four walls, and,” Boomerang points at his neck, at the place where a bomb is implanted under his skin, “with this crap in my neck?”  

Tatsu looks up again, right him in the eye.

“You already know who you are,” she tells him. “You’re a weapon. Broken weapons get discarded. And you’re letting them break you.”  

He stays silent, just looks at her in an odd manner, as if she’s speaking another language but he has a vague understanding of what she’s saying and doesn’t like what he just heard – because it is the truth.

Tatsu still doesn’t understand why she cares, and with each passing minute she has less and less desire to learn why.  

“Also,” she continues, “if you call me ‘darl’ or ‘gorgeous’ one more time, you’re going to regret opening your mouth.”

“Yeah? And how should I call ya?”

“Katana.”

“What, and that’s all? Nah, we might be weapons,” and she probably ought to remind him that there is no ‘we’, but in this particular case he’s right. Perhaps that is why Tatsu feels drawn to all of them: they’re cut from the same cloth, “but we’re alive as well. So far. Seriously, what’s yer real name? You know mine.”  

“I should not disclose that.”  

“Oh, come on. Listen,” he breaks into a pleased grin again. Another theorem proven. “How about a deal? You tell me yer name, and I will try to keep my temper if anyone else decides to stir me up. What do ya think?”    

“As if you’re going to keep your word.”

Boomerang makes a show of putting his hand over his heart.

“For you, ma’am… anything.”

For you. All at once, she recalls Rick’s words: do whatever you want to him. How many minutes of the visit she has already spent on this predictably fruitless conversation?    

“My name is Tatsu Yamashiro,” she says, tired, and then he smiles – not the way he did before, but in a calmer and more sincere manner. Gratefully.

“George Harkness,” he offers her his hand with an earnest air. “Nice to meet ya.”  

Tatsu hesitantly offers him hers. Her hand looks very small and fragile against his huge paw, and he must be thinking the same because the handshake comes out very careful. He could easily break her wrist. She could easily kill him with one hand afterwards. But he holds her hand gently in his warm, pleasantly calloused palm, and Tatsu hastens to take her hand away, because this is a mistake of an even worse kind than the time he saw her without the mask.  

“So you promise not to fights the guards.”

“I promise to try,” Harkness assures, but he’s keeping one hand behind his back.

“Don’t cross your fingers,” Tatsu says sternly. Real mature.

With a sigh, Boomerang repeats his promise, this time holding his hands within her view.

“But I ain’t promisin’ not to call you gorgeous,” he declares in the end.

“You know my name now.”

“But you’re still gorgeous.”

“Time’s up!” shouts the guard outside the door, and Tatsu cannot help feeling relieved that she has to go. She doesn’t regret visiting him, but all of this is too strange and awkward, and both of them might be weapons, but her position is different from his, and it is better not to forget that.    

“Can I do anything for you?” she asks him on parting.  

“Well,” Boomerang smirks. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“With something I would actually agree to do?”

“Come again. Will ya?” This time he isn’t flirting; this time she can feel his insecurity, even shyness. As if he doesn’t like to admit to himself that what she answers is really important to him.  

“I’ll try,” she says cautiously. She’s not going to make any promises: she asked Waller about one time only. She doubts if she’ll be allowed to visit them again – to visit him again.  

“Try,” Harkness repeats, as if weighing the word on his tongue. “This means no.”

“This means I’ll try,” Tatsu says firmly.

And she comes again in a week. And the week after next. And a week after that.  

 ***

 “Why didn’t you walk away in Midway City?” Tatsu asks him once. “When Rick broke the control panel. You left then; why did you return?”  

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge since the time Captain Boomerang dared to smart off Amanda Waller. Several successful missions, slightly more respectful attitude on his part – and his cell already bears a passing resemblance to a place for living, even if for living quite miserably. Now there is even a table, and a chair that she gets to sit on as guest privilege. Harkness is sitting on the floor opposite her. The question seems to catch him unawares, but only for a moment.    

“Huh? Why did I return? Gotta live up to my name, that’s why. Have you ever thrown a boomerang, luv?”

I’m going to throw you somewhere one day, Tatsu thinks, yet without much irritation.

“And jokes aside?”

Boomerang attempts to feign an offended sigh.

“How do ya think? Plenty of options, all right. You gonna try to guess which one?”

Tatsu frowns.

“Is this a psychoanalysis session? Were you bitten by Harley Quinn?”

“Nah, Blondie didn’t bite me, I would’ve remembered. So don’t be jealous,” his voice gets playful again, and Tatsu stifles the urge to roll her eyes. “Lookie here… suppose I suddenly realized that I can’t leave you guys! ‘Cause you’re my mates. One for all, and so on. Don’t believe me?”

“You said something about plenty of options. What are the rest of them?”

He scratches his chin thoughtfully.

“We-e-ell… the second, ‘course, is that I wanted to save the world. Not that the world smiles upon me every bloody day, but I still wanna live! And for everyone an’ their mother to know that the bastards like us can also be heroes. Don’t you like being one of the good guys, eh, Tatsu?”

“I’m not ‘one of the good guys’”, Tatsu protests. “And it’s not me that we’re talking about. Any other options?”

“There was no point in leaving. That was still gonna be the end of the world, aye? So I’d rather meet it in battle and in good company than on the run. All the same it’ll be the end. There you go.”  

He stops talking, and in the silence that falls Tatsu can hear the footsteps of the guards in the corridor. Once again she wonders what the duty attendants that monitor everything through the surveillance cameras think of their conversations. They must make for the strangest and most pointless reality show ever.  

“The third one,” she says.

Boomerang looks a bit disappointed.

“Why?”

“Not the first one, because none of us meant anything to you then. You had just met us. And it didn’t seem like you were upset about letting Slipknot down,” Tatsu explains. She doesn’t intend to offend him – she’s just saying the truth. Once, he claimed it himself that they understand each other – here’s some understanding, he’s welcome. “Not the second one either, because you’re not stupid – no, stop smiling. You never believed that if people like us stop the Enchantress, someone would learn about that. Only the third option remains.”  

Harkness nods slowly.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and his eyes turn pensive, abstracted, as if he is there again, in the night city frozen in anticipation of the apocalypse. As if he sees himself – and makes a choice once again. “And that’s what happened in the end, didn’t it?”

“So the third option, then?”

“So it is.”

But something in his face makes Tatsu think that he was hoping for a different answer.

***

 Time flies; weeks and months go by. Tatsu spends them fighting, spilling someone else’s blood, occasionally drinking with Flag at a bar or in his apartment – a bachelor’s home again; reading books – most of the plots seem too naïve and unimaginative compared to what goes on in her life, and that is even for the best, and visiting the members of the Suicide Squad in Belle Reve. Some people go clubbing Friday evenings, and she goes to prison Friday afternoons.  

“Don’t get attached to them,” Rick scolds her.

“That is rich coming from you,” Tatsu replies, and he has enough self-awareness not to argue. Lest he gets offended, she chooses not to tell him that sometimes she and Lawton talk a little about him good-naturedly behind his back.

During one of her visits, Harkness raises a topic she has totally forgotten about.

“Hey, come to think of it, we never had that drink,” he points out. Tatsu doesn’t understand what he’s talking about, and it must be written all over her face, because he continues. “Remember I asked you out for a drink? In Midway City, before we fought the witch.”  

Tatsu has to make an effort to remember: indeed, he said something of the sort, but it never occurred to her to take those words seriously.

“We had a drink,” she counters. “When… when you shared your beer with me.”  

He shakes his head, dissatisfied.

“At the construction site? That’s bollocks. I’m talking a proper bar… nah, a restaurant! With crystal glasses an’ candles an’ shit… Like normal people.”  

“Candles,” Tatsu mumbles. She tries to imagine the two of them at the table at a restaurant; the picture turns out pretty absurd. On the other hand, a lot of what has happened in her life during the past few years can be deemed absurd.

“Yeah. Candles,” echoes Harkness, and continues with a crooked smile, “well, that’s me jokin’ around. In the near future,” he gestures in the direction of the small barred window of his cell, “I won’t be able to take you even to a fucking McDonald’s.”  

They don’t talk about the hypothetical dinners at a restaurant anymore, but the absurd picture stays with Tatsu, who still feels somehow indebted to Boomerang – for no reason, as she keeps telling herself – for that conversation at the construction site. She doesn’t like to feel the weight of unpaid debts on her shoulders – yes, that’s what it is about.

One day, she finds a way to pay that debt back.

 ***

 She waits for him in the car outside the prison gate. She hears him first; she cannot make out what exactly he is yelling at the guards, but that surely isn’t ‘good evening’. Then the door of the jeep is open, and someone must have kicked him in the rear because he literally falls into the car. Tatsu shrinks back on instinct.  

Then Harkness looks up – and notices her.

“Katana?.. Hey, what the hell’s going on? They didn’t let me take the boomerangs, didn’t let me take anything…”

“Close the door,” Tatsu tells him, and when he, still confused, obeys, tells the driver, “Let’s go.”

The car pulls away.

“I still don’t get what’s happening,” Harkness reminds her. “Sure, I’m happy to see ya, but… you weren’t ordered to take me to the woods and finish me off under the radar, huh?”  

“If Waller wanted to get rid of you, she would have had you killed in your own cell, and that’s all.”

“Wow, thanks for honesty. So where are we going?”

“To a restaurant,” Tatsu says, and turns away. Yet again it crosses her mind that it is a terrible idea.

“A restaurant?” Harkness drawls quizzically.

“As far as I recall, you said that the beer at the construction site is ‘bollocks’.”  

She should turn back to him, of course. The problem is that Tatsu is ninety-nine per cent sure that if she meets his eye now, she will blush. And she is by no means going to give him any sign that might be interpreted as taking an interest… of a certain kind. She has already blundered more than a few times.  

Therefore she stubbornly keeps looking out of the window. Then again, she doesn’t even need to look to picture how his facial expression is changing now; she’s seen this rakish grin enough times.  

“Holy cow. Tatsu, are you serious? We’re really just going to a restaurant? We’re getting outta this shithole where they only give us porridge with rat crap to gorge ourselves on lobsters and drink wine? Oh, fuck me sideways,” in the end, she turns to him and sees him throw back his head and burst into laughter, narrowing his eyes happily. “I’ll be damned! Am I dreaming? I must be dreaming. Pinch me.”    

“I can assure you you’re not,” Tatsu says, and realizes that she is also starting to smile despite herself. She has visited him and the others in Belle Reve often enough to know that porridge with rat crap, unfortunately, is far from being just a figure of speech. After such a diet, a meal at a restaurant must seem like the pinnacle of happiness.    

Boomerang shakes his head, apparently still unable to believe her.

“Holy fucking shit. How did you do that? How do you even do all that? I’ve told ya you’re unreal, have I?”

“Yes, you have,” Tatsu confirms patiently. And more than once – too often for her to attach great importance to it, too fervently for it not to please her at all. “Let’s put it that way: this is Waller paying me for a… favour.”  

“A favour, then. I take it a lot of some poor suckers died?”

“No,” she shakes her head. And it is true – but there still was a lot of blood. Both the man Waller indicated and his bodyguards turned out to be worthy adversaries. The whole thing went not as smoothly as she wanted it to – not that she wanted to; not that she would kill another person she knows nothing about if she could help it. Nothing to assure her: this one deserves it. Everything turned out rather… nasty. She had to burn the bodies. Then she got home in a haze, tended to a couple of fresh wounds – or rather, just scratches. And then she went to the bathroom and spent a long time soaping herself, as if the invisible filth that bothered her the most could be washed off with shower gel.    

Afterwards, she rummaged through her modest wardrobe and dug out the only dress she has about in America. Nothing special: wine red, below the knee length, sleeveless but with a pretty high neckline – very demure. The first and so far the last dress she bought after… after. If she and Rick didn’t have to accompany Amanda Waller to some event once, she wouldn’t have bought this one either. She put it on, combed her hair, still wet after the shower, with her fingers, looked at herself in the mirror – and flew into a rage, pulled off the dress, and could barely stop herself from tearing it to shreds. Restaurant or not, what does it matter? The last thing she needs is for him to think she dressed up for him.      

So the situation might be a little less absurd than it could have been. Both of them look like they’re going on another mission with the others, only she isn’t wearing her mask – he has already seen her face anyway – and he isn’t wearing his ever-present coat. It is no wonder he wasn’t allowed to take it – Waller wasn’t going to let him out of Belle Reve armed, and to let him wear his coat would probably be as unwise as to hand him all his boomerangs. Tatsu has no doubt that everyone and their dog have already searched through the personal belongings of the Squad, but she wouldn’t be surprised to learn that somewhere in his inside pockets Harkness has as many boomerangs as he is listed as having officially. She witnessed this man produce from his bosom at least four different lighters, a massive stack of dollars, a pocket knife, small binoculars, flat-nose pliers, and a toy unicorn. She has to admit: sometimes she doesn’t understand how he even does all that either.    

It appears that the thoughts of Captain Boomerang also turn to the contents of his pockets.

“Hey, how the hell are we affording this, though? Make no mistake, I’d stand treat, but my stash is in the coat, and these assholes didn’t let me take it, y’know.”    

“Don’t worry about that. Waller is paying for everything,” she explains, unable to suppress a grin, because this part, possibly the most unbelievable part of the entire affair, gives her a sort of silly, spiteful joy. Task Force X is a comparatively recent project, but they’ve already cleaned up so much mess for Amanda Waller that Heracles and his labours don’t even come close. A dinner at a restaurant is the least thing she could offer them. So when Boomerang explodes with laughter and gives her a conspiratorial wink, she looks him right in the eye and smiles. Another mistake. Then again, this is not the first time they share a secret.

He puts his hand on her knee, and she shakes it off immediately; this is way too far.

“I see you took your sword with ya,” Harkness observes, not giving any sign that something didn’t go the way he wanted.

“I am to keep an eye on you.”

“Yeah. How about…” he leans in closer, and the smell of cologne blasts up Tatsu’s nose. She can only hope it is due to external use only, “we chop off his head,” he nods at the driver, “and drive the fuck away from this? Huh?”    

The driver, who can definitely hear everything, doesn’t turn, but Tatsu notices him tense up.

“You’re kidding,” she says dryly. He may be, or he may be not – with Digger Harkness, one cannot always tell.

“Why kidding, doll? Zip, and done. There’s no way you enjoy working for Waller.”  

“I do not. But if you pull some stunt,” Tatsu feels for the sword hilt, and Boomerang sees that – very well, it is good for him to see that, “I will chop your head off. I really hope it won’t come to that.”  

“And what’s it to you? Scared of me? But I’m unarmed,” he claps himself on the chest demonstratively, implying that he has no weapons on him. “Why do you care if it does?”  

“I just wouldn’t like to do that,” she says firmly, and it’s true. It works well; he doesn’t even mention running away for the remainder of the day.

 This might be the strangest evening in her life.

Waller’s man drives them to a French restaurant whose name she cannot read but is almost sure that the phrase was chosen solely because it sounds impressive. They are let in through the back door, so no one among the other guests, who are sporting evening dresses and suits, pays any attention to her crop top and sword or to his… appearance in general. Their table is one of those located in alcoves, away from prying eyes, but Tatsu feels they are being watched. Which means Waller doesn’t trust her too much – well, she can understand that. She is part of a special team composed of deranged madmen, and she must admit she likes these deranged madmen more than she likes certain normal people known to her. Of course, she is Flag’s right-hand woman, but it is most likely that Waller doesn’t trust Flag either. It is doubtful whether there are any people in this world that she trusts at all.          

Waller is rich. Their little feast will not shatter her wealth, all the more so since the restaurant she sent them to is not the most luxurious. But they still have a field day ordering loads of food and a bottle of the most expensive wine on the menu.    

“To honour among thieves?” she suggests, when they raise their glasses for the first time.

“Didn’t ya say yer not a thief?”

“That is true,” she admits, and adds inwardly, I’m a killer.  

In the end, they drink to the Suicide Squad. Then to Lawton and Jones, currently languishing in their cells. Then to Zoe Lawton, who is acting in a school play next week. To a lot of things. He asks her about her life here, in America. At some point she finds herself trying to explain to him what taiyaki is, and him telling her about banana sandwiches, and she can’t remember why they started talking about this at all. The bottle becomes empty, and another appears as if by itself.      

They don’t talk about the past. They don’t talk about the future, because there might be no future at all – they can’t know for sure, what with their way of life. That evening, Tatsu laughs and thinks: good thing I’m drunk – it almost gets easier for a while.  

When it’s time to leave, Harkness gets pig-headed.

“Whoa, no, no, no. Already? It’s too early, are you kiddin’ me?” he booms out when they exit the restaurant. He protests, but she drags him by the hand and he stumbles along after all, treading heavily like a dancing bear. “Let’s go someplace else, luv. Look at the pretty stars.”  

“We are already late. And you… you have to go back to jail,” Tatsu tells him. The stars are pretty indeed, but she regrets looking up at them, because her head begins to spin. Thankfully, she isn’t wearing high heels. Thankfully, she doesn’t have any high-heeled shoes at all, or she could have been possessed to wear them. “Sorry,” she adds when they get into the car and set off. “There is no other way.”  

“Back to jail,” Boomerang repeats with disgust. Sprawling on the seat, he unzips his hoodie, and Tatsu is swept over by the smell of cologne again. Weirdly, it doesn’t annoy her as much as at the beginning of the evening. “I’m a fucking Cinderella. I’m not back by midnight, they turn me into a pumpkin.”  

“Cinderella,” Tatsu echoes, and giggles: everything is way funnier now. The driver makes a sudden turn, and she is literally thrown at Boomerang. Her cheek presses to his chest – and stays there. Tatsu feels drunk and sated and drunk again, and sleepy too, and he makes for a decent pillow, and she can’t make herself move away.  

“Oh, you think it’s funny,” Harkness mutters with mock offence in his voice. It seems he’s about to fall asleep too. “Well, go on, laugh.”

They drive back in silence, and through the drowse Tatsu feels the warm arm around her waist and thinks: good thing I’m drunk, I can pretend I’m asleep.  

The road to Belle Reve is long, but it still feels like they reach it too quickly.

“Inmate,” calls one of the guards, “get out.”  

Harkness, his eyes still closed, moans with discontent.

“Captain Boomerang,” Tatsu says softly, freeing herself from his embrace. “It’s time.”

There is nothing to be done. He’s already about to step out of the jeep, when he suddenly moves closer to her again.

“Hey, darlin’,” he says, looking her right in the eye. “Aren’t ya forgetting something?”

It takes her some time to realize what he means: he must be expecting her to kiss him. All at once she remembers everything that has happened this evening, and awful shame washes over her: it is no wonder he’s expecting that to happen.  

“Inmate, get out!”

She shrinks back.

“Good night, Captain,” she tells him as dryly as she can. He looks wounded but says nothing, and almost obediently lets the guards escort him back to his cell. Tatsu closes her eyes and rubs her temples wearily. Tomorrow she is going to regret drinking so much. She already does – and that’s not the only thing she regrets.

She has to stop seeing him.

 ***

 At first, she even succeeds. Next Friday Tatsu, as always, goes to Belle Reve to see the Squad – all of them save for Harkness. She feels sick at heart because if she did promise him anything, it was to visit him, and now she’s going back on her word because of her own stupid weakness. But there is no other way.  

“He asked about you,” Waylon tells her a week later, when she brings him the latest issue of Playboy. Tatsu almost doesn’t feel weird anymore when buying it, and doesn’t try to imagine anymore what the news stand clerks think when she pays them for it. Such periodicals cause her a feeling of light disgust, but Croc, who gets let out of jail only to be thrown into another trouble spot, deserves at least some small joys.  

“Who?”

Waylon, no doubt observant like all the quiet ones tend to be, bares his impressive teeth.  

“You know who.”

It seems a logical solution to give up on these visits at all – but in that case she would betray all of them. Perhaps this little tradition is much more important to her than it is to the prisoners, but Tatsu is almost sure that it means something to them as well. She has no right to deprive the rest of them of this bit of understanding, companionship, normalcy because she wasn’t smart enough to stop the game she and Boomerang started before it became too late.

At home – not that the apartment she’s renting here deserves to be called ‘home’ – she, unable to fall asleep, unsheathes the sword and runs the tips of her fingers along the cool blade. A tender, habitual movement – like touching the cheek of a loved one.

“I’ve lost my way, Maseo,” whispers Tatsu. The place where the souls of the people struck down by this blade are trapped is still a mystery to her, but she knows that Maseo will come as soon as she calls him – as a voice from afar, as nebulous shapes in the swirls of smoke, as the peace and safety granted by the presence of someone dear. “I’m afraid of my own heart.”    

I know your heart, Tatsu. You have nothing to be afraid of.

“It makes me act rashly. Makes me succumb to false feelings.”  

I know your heart, Tatsu, and it incapable of falsehood.  

Only the ones that are already far away can speak so vaguely and with such unrelenting honesty at the same time.  

“I will always love you,” she whispers ardently. Not because she doesn’t want him to think it is not so; not because she herself feels like it is not so anymore either. She knows for sure that she is always going to love him, for she loved him as a lover, as a husband, as the father of her children, as the only thing she had left after all her life fell apart, burned in that damned fire. He will stay in her heart until her last breath – even if she has to close her heart to the rest of the world. Once she used to think that after all she’s been through, it isn’t going to be an issue.

And I will always love you, her husband replies, and Tatsu blinks back tears with a deep sigh.

“I just wish you were alive,” she tells him for what must be the hundredth, or maybe a thousandth time.

If he was with her – not as smoke or a voice, but as flesh and blood – he probably would have kissed her gently on the nape of her neck, as he often used to do.  

I just wish, says her husband – no, the soul of her husband, which is already rushing away, deep into the world she shouldn’t hurry to go to if she doesn’t want this sword to fall into wrong hands, that you were happy.

***

 Literally the next day there is a message from Metropolis that some giant snake-like beast is terrorizing the city and devouring people. The monster was last seen crawling into the building of the opera – which is where their squad heads to after reaching the city.  

“Look at that freak,” Harkness comments in a low voice. The creature is curled up slumbering on stage, and they are watching it from the catwalks above. “Not a family of yours by any chance, eh, ‘gator?’    

Waylon steps towards him, and the planks creak under his feet, threatening to break.

“Say that again,” he growls.

Tatsu bares her sword and wedges herself between them. Waylon backs off reluctantly.

“Knock it off,” she tells Boomerang. It feels like everything has come full circle – the day Harkness picked up her mask, he also had a run-in with Jones. The day they were sent to fight the Enchantress, she also put the blade of her sword under his chin. Why did she even think something would change?

“Oh, so you’re talking to me after all?”

“Enough,” Tatsu hisses. She really wants to try to explain everything to him. Maybe if she tries to put her feelings into words, many things will become clear to her, too. But if he thinks they are going to discuss this now, he is mistaken.

On the neighbouring catwalk, Rick is looking at them in a rage, gesturing both of them to shut up. Harkness steps closer; now the blade of the Soultaker is within a hair’s breadth away from his neck. A single careless movement, and blood will be spilled. A wild idea crosses her mind: it looks as if he’s into this. Tatsu licks her lips.

“Y’know,” Boomerang begins, lowering his head a little so that it is easier for him to look her in the eye, “I think you’re scared of me. Or of yourself, hell if I know. Am I right?”  

A loud rustle comes from beneath, and the next instant the monster bites through the middle of the catwalk they’re standing on, and both of them are falling down. Tatsu manages to grab some rope, but when she tries to climb it, her hands slip, and she comes tumbling down.

The fall is far from being soft, even though she falls on the tatters of the curtain, which the snake must have torn earlier. She is lucky not to hurt her head, but her left leg and hip are aching. Only the awareness that there is no time to lie around makes her summon up all her strength and get up. Her sword is nowhere to be seen, and Tatsu is overwhelmed by fury: now she is useless.

The snake roars and shakes its head, trying to shake off Croc, who is trying to bite through its scales. Rick is shooting at the monster from above, and Deadshot, who is already on stage somehow, is doing the same from below, dodging the blows of its tail. Tatsu sweeps her eyes weakly over the stage and suddenly notices a hole broken in it. At the very edge of the hole, the hilt of her sword is sticking out of the floor. Moving as quickly as it is possible to do that with a limp, Tatsu hurries there.

The moment she pulls the sword out of the stage, Harkness’s head pokes out of the hole. Not waiting for him to ask for help, Tatsu helps him get out.

“Are you…” both of them begin in unison and drop it immediately, because the snake has managed to shake off the bothersome little crocodile – who is hopefully just somewhere on the floor and not in its belly – and is moving towards them, slower than before but still pretty speedily. They scatter, and Tatsu charges at the monster with her sword drawn. Harkness throws a boomerang at the creature, aiming at its eye, but it dodges at the last second.        

Eventually, with joint forces they manage to kill the beast. To be on the safe side, Lawton fires a round into its open jaws. The long body shudders one last time and falls still. For some time, the five of them stand there looking at it.

“Where could this thing even come from?” Rick mutters.

“Remember what the Wicked Witch of the West said when she tried to get us to join her? The world is changing, the time of magic has come, blah, blah, blah,” Lawton reminds him. Rick nods absentmindedly; these are not happy memories.

Jones kicks the dead snake.

“Maybe it meant no harm,” he points out in his deep voice.

“Croc,” Rick says wearily, “it ate people.”

“So did I.”

“But at least you didn’t chew the curtain at the opera like a disgraced diva?” Lawton asks, struggling not to grin.

“Nuh-uh.”

“Well, then it’s okay.”

Rick titters nervously, and the next instant all of them are shaking with laughter.

 Tatsu is drinking water straight from the tap in the restroom, when Harkness comes in.

“This is a ladies’ room,” she says reflexively.

“Hey, I just wanna wash my face, is all.”

Without waiting for her to answer, he comes closer and starts washing at the neighbouring sink. Tatsu casts a sidelong look at him and notices that the water is turning red.  

“Show me your face,” she orders.

“It’s not a bad face, what’s yer problem?”

“I’m serious.”

He rolls his eyes, but stands still while she examines his face, only wincing when she dabs at the cut on his forehead with a paper towel.

“Just a scratch,” he assures at once.

“Just a scratch,” Tatsu agrees. She scrunches up the towel and throws it into the sink. She would like to keep her hand on his face, pretending that she’s still wiping off the blood, but she’s done pretending.

“How about you?” Boomerang asks quietly.

“Fine. A couple of bruises. You were lucky today,” she says just as quietly, and takes off her mask. Tomorrow they might not be as lucky. “I’m happy for you.”

“And I’m happy you got out alive… darl.”

For a moment she wants him to ruin everything. To reply with a jibe, to crack another dirty joke, to try to grab and kiss her only to get smacked. Not to stand motionless in front of her like he’s afraid to scare her off. It occurred to her once that from the outside their relationship might look like an attempt to tame a wild animal. Perhaps this is a mutual process.

Do whatever you want to him.

She stands up on tiptoes and kisses him.

For an instant, Harkness freezes – possibly trying to figure out again if he’s dreaming – and then pulls her closer and kisses back. Drinks her hungrily, like this is both the first time and the last. Bearing in mind what their lives are like, it really might be the last.

Tatsu doesn’t immediately realize why she suddenly doesn’t need to stand on tiptoes anymore.

“Put me down–” she starts, but gives up and wraps her legs around his waist. Boomerang grunts with satisfaction and switches from her lips to her neck. His beard, fortunately, is softer than could have been expected.  

“Stop drinking so much,” Tatsu breathes out, now that no one is trying to shut her mouth. “You taste like…” all English words slip her mind, “like… a beer cask.”  

It tickles her when he laughs into her neck.

Someone simply must enter now – Rick, Floyd, Amanda Waller, the president of the United  States, but no, no one is trying to stop him from squeezing her hips, to stop her from running her fingers through his hair. Weapon to weapon, blade to blade. Red-hot metal to red-hot metal. Melting until something new is forged – without fear, without regret, without the past, without the future.

Clearly, Maseo wants too much: she remembers what happiness is, and she is sure she’ll never ever be happy again.

But she can take a shot at being alive.