#would recommend it but i see why it’s divisive

[splattergutz]

[jillianallen14]

Dear Baby Bats - Goth Band Recommendations

As a middle sibling goth (I’ve been in the subculture for 10 years now, so not a baby bat but not an elder goth either), let me turn you on to some bands because we do not gatekeep in this house!! Also, if you want consistently good lesser-known & brand new goth band recs, go follow Awfully Sinister on TikTok and Instagram. He’s a DJ & has great recs. I've found so much music through him because it's really hard to keep up with all the new bands cropping up every year. You want to avoid the goth subreddit because they are extremely gatekeeper-y and argue over labels constantly. It’ll just confuse you, and they are not nice over there.

If you’re very new to the subculture, and you haven’t yet listened to all of Bauhaus, Siouxsie and the Banshees, The Cure, Sisters of Mercy, Christian Death, Cocteau Twins, Clan of Xymox, Joy Division, and Depeche Mode, go do so now. You'll want to know which of them you really enjoy the most because it will help you know which sub-subgenre(s) of goth you want to watch out for, and it'll tell you what to look for to find it. For example, Sisters of Mercy is the gothic rock subgenre, Christian Death is deathrock, Cocteau Twins is ethereal wave, Clan of Xymox is like the original darkwave, Joy Division is classic post-punk, etc. I haven’t included industrial, despite its proximity to the goth subculture, just because I actually don’t really know that many industrial bands beyond Skippy Puppy, Ministry, and Throbbing Gristle. Some other goth/goth-adjacent staple bands (that are very popular and very influential) that you should listen to if you haven’t already are The Damned, Killing Joke, The Cult, and Adam and the Ants/Adam Ant). I didn't know where to put She Wants Revenge or London After Midnight either, but they're also great.

I’ve bolded some of my absolute must-listen to goth bands, and I've put monthly Spotify listeners for each band so you know which ones deserve WAY more love. And in my pre-list ramblings for each OG band, I've given you some key terms to look up so you can more easily find music that's similar to what you enjoy. Okay, here we go:

If you like Bauhaus:

Bauhaus is a hard one because honestly, nobody really sounds like them, and they aren't really that closely associated with a specific sub-subgenre of goth. They were post-punk, they were art rock, they were experimental, they were sometimes very punk and at other times very gothic rock. They liked to call themselves “dark glam rock” (all four members are massive Bowie, T-Rex, and Iggy Pop fans), but you’re gonna have a hard time finding bands that sound like them if you look that term up. They probably have one of the most unique sounds of all-time. They’re my favorite band (I even have a tattoo for them, like I am devoted lol), but even I have a difficult time finding other bands that scratch their particular itch for me. These bands I’ve listed are as close as you’re gonna get to Bauhaus’ general vibe imo.

Virgin Prunes (80’s band that is technically deathrock but has the same absolutely unhinged, danceable sound that Bauhaus has, so they’re going here; one of my favorites; no one else does it like them and no one else ever will; I would actually give my left foot to see them live); 13.2k monthly listeners (this is actually physically painful to me, how is it this low!!! don't walk, RUN to go listen to them)

Alien Sex Fiend (80’s classic unhinged goth); 77k monthly listeners

Sextile (modern band that has some very Bauhaus-sounding guitar work at times but with heavy industrial influences); 147k listeners

The Danse Society (80’s unhinged goth; has similar experimental vibes to Bauhaus imo; one of my fave goth groups); 36k listeners

Sex Beat (80’s); not even really on Spotify

Ritual Howls (modern band; I don’t know why it gives Bauhaus, but it does; one of the few modern bands that scratches that particular itch for me); 45k listeners

The Agnes Circle (modern band; one of my favorites; they have the right Bauhaus-like atmosphere for me); 52k listeners

Traitrs (I can’t explain why they remind me of Bauhaus, but they do; another one of my fave modern bands; they make me want to start levitating and doing the Ian Curtis dance in the same way Bauhaus does lol); 239k listeners

Paralisis Permanente (underrated 80’s; they have a lot in common with Bauhaus’s sound actually, def give them a try!); 54k monthly listeners

The Birthday Party (80s band, totally unhinged; they’re less dark and atmospheric than Bauhaus, but if you take one listen to their album Junkyard, you’ll know exactly why I put them under this category haha; Nick Cave is the vocalist, which is amazing); 54k listeners

Tones on Tail (80s; Daniel Ash & Kevin Haskins of Bauhaus formed this group; I’d put Love and Rockets as well, which is all of Bauhaus’s members except Peter Murphy, but Love and Rockets weirdly bears little resemblance to Bauhaus’s music; but if you just generally want more of Bauhaus members' work, Love and Rockets is great, too); 81k listeners

Dalis Car (80s; collaboration between Peter Murphy and Japan's bassist; their music is extremely weird, so only listen if you really love the batshit insane Bauhaus songs or if you really live and breathe Peter Murphy like I do lol; their description on Spotify is so fucking funny); 7k listeners

I'd also recommend listening to Daniel Ash, David J, and Peter Murphy's solo work. They're all great!! Peter also did some amazing collaborations with Trent Reznor (Nine Inch Nails); the version of Reptile that they did together is better than Nine Inch Nail's original version imo, and you can find that entire session on Youtube!

If you like Siouxsie and the Banshees:

Siouxsie is another one that's hard to pin down sound-wise because again, they don't really fit into one specific sub-subgenre, so all of these recs are just goth bands with female vocalists who have the same kind of powerful vocals that Siouxsie does.

Second Still (modern band, one of my faves; singer sounds a lot like Siouxsie to me at times); 69k listeners

Skeletal Family (80’s band; has the same “women in punk” vibes that Siouxsie has); 55k listeners

Xmal Deutschland (80’s band; has the same powerful vocals that Siouxsie has; makes you wanna go stupid go crazy the way the Banshees do); 73k listeners

Secret Shame (modern band w/ woman singer; has the same rage that Siouxsie songs have to me, especially early Siouxsie); 6k listeners (let's get those numbers up, folks!!!)

Rosegarden Funeral Party (modern band w/ a woman vocalist); 57k listeners

Mephisto Walz (90s & 2000s; sounds so much like the Banshees at times); 56k listeners

The Creatures (80s; a Siouxsie Sioux & Budgie side project); 34k listeners

Madhouse (listen to Repulsion! 80s group that’s technically deathrock, but I put them under this category because the singer has Siouxsie-like qualities); not really on Spotify

Strange Boutique (90s; vocalist is Monica Richards of Faith and the Muse & Madhouse; this is probably my favorite project of hers); 112k listeners

If you like Depeche Mode:

For Depeche Mode enjoyers (which DM is kind of on the fringes of what’s considered “goth,” but they’re so entrenched in the subculture that I included them anyway), you’re gonna want to delve into goth playlists and modern goth that leans towards synthpop/synthwave. So those are the kinds of playlists you’ll want to search up for similar sounds to DM.

Nuovo Testamento (modern band; combines post-punk and pop elements in a way that’s very similar to Depeche Mode; lots of fun live, and they have a good sound); 25k listeners

Boy Harsher (modern band; relies heavily on synth; feels like it should be playing at every goth club); 558k listeners

ULTRA SUNN (modern band; singer sounds like Dave Gahan); 217k listeners (they just blew up on tiktok recently, which explains why this just skyrocketed since the last time I was on their Spotify page lol; good for them, good for them, they deserve it)

Ministry's first album (called With Sympathy), which was synthwave/synthpop before they went industrial (this is one of my all-time favorite albums)

French Police (modern band); 252k listeners

Closed Tear (modern band); 152k listeners

Night Sins (modern band); 33k listeners

Panic Priest (modern band; vocals sound decently similar to Dave Gahan & there is a lot of reliance on synth; In All Severity is a gorgeous song); 5k listeners

Fad Gadget (underrated 80’s; I just feel like if you like DM, you’re also gonna like Fad Gadget); 58k listeners

Martin Dupont (underrated 80s cold wave/synth pop; Inside Out is one of my favorite 80s songs); 26k listeners

If you like The Cure:

You'll be hard-pressed to find a goth band that wasn't influenced by The Cure, so I really can't give you any key terms for what to look up lol. They also changed their sound so frequently that it entirely depends on what era of The Cure's music you're looking to find similar music for.

Vision Video (modern band; combines post-punk and pop elements like The Cure does; one of my fave modern goth bands; they are INCREDIBLE live); 52k listeners (I'm gonna need y'all to get a song or two of theirs to blow up on tiktok expeditiously lol)

Urban Heat (modern band; great live); 36k listeners

The Chameleons (80’s band; very underrated; they are also very good live); 167k listeners

House of Harm (modern band, very new; also very good live; has pop elements); 44k listeners

Deceits (modern band, another very new one); 28k listeners (it's crazy how much this number has grown the past two months because it was in the single thousands not that long ago; everyone say thank you, tiktok)

Drab Majesty (modern band; their instrumentals remind me of The Cure); 172k listeners

Double Echo (modern band, one of my faves; their instrumentals also remind me of The Cure); 15k listeners (let's get these numbers up!!!)

The Bolshoi (underrated 80’s band that combines new wave and goth elements in a similar way to The Cure); 114k listeners

The Essence (underrated 80s band that sounds so much like The Cure it’s actually insane, but they’ve got their own sound too; they’re like a perfect blend of all of The Cure’s different sounds); 25k monthly listeners

The Glove (80s; a Robert Smith side project with Steven Severin from Siouxsie and the Banshees); 25k listeners

Crimson Ivy (80s band; singer sounds so a lot like a more yelly version of Robert Smith sometimes); not on Spotify

Miss Teen America (brand new band from NYC! They only have one single out right now, and it’s well worth listening to); 940 monthly listeners (y’all know what to do!!! Let’s get those numbers up, up, up!) link to their single: https://open.spotify.com/album/4nvdZeUVLLrMv3tEziCqm7?si=2WVS7-eYQLGR7Id3wLiKhg

If you like Clan of Xymox:

Most of these bands will be modern ones because Clan of Xymox was honestly way ahead of their time. (They are also amazing live, so go see them before they eventually call it quits!) For playlists that are full of their vibe, you’re gonna want to look up “darkwave” playlists. Clan of Xymox pioneered darkwave, so any darkwave band you listen to is gonna be influenced by their sound in some way or another.

Harsh Symmetry (modern, very new; very heavily relies on synth); 29k listeners

Ssleeping Desiress (modern band; instrumentals similar to Xymox); 55k listeners

Twin Tribes (probably my favorite modern goth band; they are fucking incredible and so good live!); 276k listeners

ACTORS (modern band; heavily relies on synth); 86k listeners

Mareux (modern; heavily relies on synth); 4.8 million listeners (this is wild!!!! everyone say thank you, tiktok)

Sixth June (modern); 23k listeners

Plastique Noir (modern); 40k listeners

Rendez Vous (modern); 160k listeners

Minuit Machine (modern); 97k listeners

The Frozen Autumn (90s & 2000s); 31k listeners

If you like Christian Death:

All of these recs will be deathrock recs or goth bands that heavily leaned on punk sounds. So if CD is the OG goth band you’re most fond of, you’re gonna want to delve into deathrock playlists for similar sounds.

Asylum Party (80’s band); not on spotify

45 Grave (80’s band); 47k listeners

Voodoo Church (80’s band; probably my favorite out of this bunch; I actually like them more than Christian Death); 7k listeners (let's get these numbers up immediately!!!!)

Ausgang (80’s band); 2k listeners (WHAT; they deserve so much more, damn)

Corpus Delicti (90’s band; they are very good; they sound the least like Christian Death on this list imo); 26k listeners

13th Chime (80’s band; very underrated); 6k listeners

UK Decay (you know, I actually don’t know what era they’re from; unhinged sound); 1k listeners (omg)

Super Heroines (underrated 80’s band; Eva O formed it); 2k listeners (you see what I meant about underrated?)

Specimen (80s band; this one could have just as easily gone under Bauhaus tbh, but the vocals are generally higher pitched than Peter Murphy’s, so I put them under this category); 102k listeners

Sex Gang Children (80’s band; just so unhinged & I love them for it); 27k listeners

Suspiria (90s, I think? I don’t actually know); barely on Spotify but 27k listeners

Theatre of Hate (80s); 7k listeners

Bloody Dead and Sexy (2000s, I think); 44k listeners

Mescaline Babies (2000s); 3k listeners

Acid Bats (2000s; Mexican band with Spanish lyrics); 2k listeners

Altar de Fey (80s band; formed in San Francisco!!); 23k listeners

Twisted Nerve (80s band; classified as “gothic punk,” so I felt this was the best category for them; they’re great; their sound also reminds me of early Siouxsie and the Banshees and Killing Joke); 2.5k listeners

Play Dead (80s); 8k listeners

Limbo (underrated 80s; if you like Bauhaus & Virgin Prunes as well, you’re gonna like this band); 413 listeners

If you like Cocteau Twins:

Cocteau Twins’ early sound is usually categorized as “ethereal wave” goth, so those are the playlists you’ll want to look up if you enjoy their early sound. If you like their later sound, you’re gonna want to lean more towards shoegaze for similar vibes. Admittedly, ethereal wave is one of the goth subgenres that I know the least about, so I’m not gonna be much help here.

Dead Can Dance (80’s band; NO one, and I mean NO ONE, was doing it like Dead Can Dance; so fun to dance to in the goth club); 332k listeners

Lycia (90’s band; their music is very transcendent); 20k listeners

Linea Aspera (modern band; gorgeous woman vocals; honestly, their music is just very beautiful); 67k listeners

This Mortal Coil (formed in the 80s; some songs feature Elizabeth Fraser & Robin Guthrie from Cocteau Twins, but even the ones that don’t still have an ethereal vibe similar to CT; Sixteen Days/Gathering Dust is just like the best song ever); 310k listeners

Autumn's Grey Solace (2000s); 62k listeners

Faith and the Muse; (90s); 22k listeners

This Ascension (90s); 4k listeners

Strawberry Switchblade (80s); 400k listeners

If you like Joy Division:

All of these bands will be ones that sound very classically post-punk, so those are the playlists to search out; emphasis on "classic" because post-punk is a very broad term that gets applied to a lot of music. I would argue that Joy Division has had the most influence out of all the OG goth bands on the current goth sound/goth renaissance we're going through right now, so there are a LOT of bands out there for you if you’re a JD fan.

Molchat Doma (modern band); 2.5 million listeners (wow lol, they've grown so much over the past two years, it's actually insane; good for them)

Soviet Soviet (modern band); 152k listeners

Fearing (modern band; very good live); 30k listeners

Ploho (modern band); 146k listeners

Pink Turns Blue (criminally underrated 80’s band; they are SO good live); 98k listeners (this is an actual travesty, this band is way too good to not even be in the hundred thousands)

The Sound (another incredibly underrated 80’s band); 119k listeners

This Cold Night (modern; has the deep vocals of Joy Division and the driving bass but more stripped back than JD); 150k listeners

Bleib Modern (modern; has very similar vocals to Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, which is a band listed under the Sisters of Mercy section of this post, so if you end up liking this band, you should also listen to Red Lorry Yellow Lorry & vice versa); 36k listeners

Lebanon Hanover (modern; has the existential angst that Joy Division always ignites in me but more stripped back); 936k listeners (this is crazy, holy shit!!!!!! go, Lebanon Hanover, go!!)

She Past Away (modern; deep vocals); 226k listeners

Belgrado (modern; woman vocals!); 18k listeners (they deserve better than this!!)

Leonora Post Punk (modern; Mexican goth band w/ Spanish vocals! They’re amazing! They have those deep vocals you want when you’re looking for a similar sound to Joy Division); 56k listeners

O. Children (modern; has the deep vocals & interesting bass lines that Joy Division was known for; great band); 29k listeners

If you like Sisters of Mercy:

This is one of my least favorite goth subcategories, which is odd because I actually love Sisters. But if you’re looking for a lot of music that sounds like SoM, I’d suggest delving into the 90’s and early 2000’s goth music scene. Search out those playlists. A lot of the 90s and 2000s goth bands were very derivative of Sisters of Mercy.

Rosetta Stone (90’s band); 54k listeners

Miazma (modern); 10k listeners

Red Lorry Yellow Lorry (another criminally underrated 80’s band; one of my fave goth bands); 40k listeners (THEY!! DESERVE!! BETTER!!)

Dreamtime (modern); 65 listeners (ouch lol, please go show them some love)

Fields of the Nephilim (80’s, I think; if you’re a metalhead, you’ll probably appreciate this band); 95k listeners

The Merry Thoughts (80s); 19k listeners

The March Violets (underrated 80s; might be a controversial opinion to put them under SoM, but I’m standing by it); 69k listeners

Horror Vacui (modern; it’s kind of a stretch putting them here tbh, but I couldn’t figure out what other category to put them under); 44k listeners

The Sisterhood (spin-off Sisters of Mercy group that was formed by goth king Andrew Eldritch himself); 3k listeners

The Mission (formed by former Sisters of Mercy members; Wasteland by them was actually one of the first songs to get me into goth music); 180k listeners

Eyes of the Nightmare Jungle (late 80s & 90s; every time a song by them comes on, I’m convinced it’s a Sisters song until the singer starts singing lol); 13k listeners

Ex-Voto (formed in 1982, but most of their albums on Spotify came out in the 2000s; this band is like if Fields of Nephilim had a baby with Clan of Xymox & then sprinkled some industrial techniques in); 6k listeners

Also, if you want a 1500-song, 105-hour goth playlist that’s constantly growing, here you go. The name of it is a dig at my ex lol: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6jCV530pMmOEmDHj4CLNka?si=cEVKiyAwQpaieGiV2pMyqw

[killergee]

Wrote this on my phone so sorry if the formatting is wonky. First fanfic since I was a teenager, so pls be kind and enjoy!

Soshiro x reader fanfic where you're cold towards him so he thought you hated him but you actually like him.

Summary: Hoshina thinks you're only out for his position but turns out you might not hate him as much as he thinks.

P1 P2 P3

---------------------------------------------------

"I am grateful and honoured to be recommended for the position of Vice Captain for the second division. However, I wish to be only Captain Ashiro's Vice Captain. Until then, I am happy to remain a platoon leader."

Those were the first words Hoshina heard you say. The first time he met you was at the higher up conference. It was decided that you would be promoted based on your performance in the latest Kaiju attack. But in all honesty, he was barely paying attention as he stood in his position behind Ashiro at the round table. It was one of those monthly meetings that seemed to drag on and on, and he couldn't help but try to stiffle a yawn. It wasn't like he had a say in the decision anyway, so what's the point of listening.

His interest peaked slightly when you walked in. He had seen you around the base a couple of times and had heard your name every once in a while. But his mind was always on training himself, the rookies, and keeping them alive.

He would be lying if he said you weren't a sight for sore eyes. Your gaze was strong, and you held your head high as you presented yourself to the higherups. One of those ice princesses, he guesses, as he shifts his gaze to look at the clock.

Who would've thought you'd be so interesting.

"HAHAHA! It's great to have aspirations," one of the higher ups laughed at your rejection, "too bad Hoshina has already got you beat. You want us to replace Hoshina with you?" A series of giggles erupted around the room.

"Not at all," you said, and Hoshina swears he saw a small smirk break your cold facade. "Hoshina is a fine Vice Captain and one that Captain Mina personally appointed. Simply put, when the time comes and Captain Ashiro needs someone else, I just want to be ready for the call," you replied with what he thinks is a bit of mirth in your eyes. He also could've sworn your gaze shifted to him at the end.

Your statement was strong, ambitious, and slightly threatening even. You've practically announced that you were out for his position and if he is ever deemed unfit, you'll be the one who'll snag it from him.

He swears that was the moment he was hooked on you.

Yet, it seems it wouldn't be easy to see that break in your facade again. Well, at least not easy for him. Somehow it wasn't until this point that he noticed how popular you were. According to everyone else, you were cool, fun, and kind. So why is it that you're always so cold towards him? He's heard your platoon absolutely gush about you to everyone they've met. He's seen you crack an unwilling smile to some of the younger cadets on the training field from a distance. Hell, he's even eaves dropped on you joking with his own squad.

"Hibino-kun, I heard you wanted to stand beside the Captain," you said slyly as you sat infront of Kafka in the study room. You were resting your head on your hand and eyeing at Kafka in a way that makes even Hoshina gulp. Though, probably in a different way from Kafka. Kafka flushed and tried to look at anywhere but you, "y-yeah I'm gonna try my best to do so... I also heard that you, um, were also aiming for Vice Captain?" He scratched his head a bit embarrassed but you only looked even more amused as your gaze sized him up as if evaluating him and his ambitions.

"That's right" you said with a mischievous smile.

"So I guess that makes us enemies for now, haha"

"No. Not necessarily," you sighed crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward as if to tell Kafka a secret. "You know the saying, the enemy of your enemy is your friend. So you and I are friends."

"And who's the enemy?"

"Hoshina, of course."

Well, isn't that something Hoshina thought. At least Kafka was enjoying himself.

"I guess he is," he said shoulders slumping, finally loosening up and laughing.

"Once he's out of the picture then we'll be enemies and I'm warning you, you don't want to be my enemy," Hoshina heard you joke back.

"Is that so?"

"Vice Captain!" Kafka shouted as he stood up to salute him as Hoshina entered the room. You on the other hand, seemed to be taking your sweet time getting up to salute him.

"Sir," you said flatly, all the humour you once had vanishing. Your eyes bored into his as if you were looking at an ant beneath your boot.

Right. Not easy. Definitely not easy at all.

"Do ya really see me that way y/n-kun?" Hoshina said as he walked to stand infront of you. "Why, you're hurting my lil' ol' feelings."

He knew he was standing closer to you than you'd like. With how your cheek slightly twitched, he can't say he wasn't enjoying this.

"I apologize, sir," you mumbled as if it pained you to say. "If it pains you so much why don't you go on leave? Take as much time as you need to recover."

"Oh? And let you take over my position?" He responded with a growing smile that showed off his fang.

"Or Hibino-kun can," you responded bringing back Hibino into the conversation.

"Um!" Hibino squeaked and both you and Hoshino snap your heads to look at him. "I-I uh... Nevermind."

"That's 5 laps for you, Hibino"

"What? Why I didn-"

"You want to do 10?" Hoshina threatened as a sliver of his eyes opens.

"No, sir!" Hibino salutes before hurrying himself out of the situation—scared he'll upset his vice captain even more.

With only the two of you left in the room, your slight step backwards doesn't go unnoticed by Hoshina.

"And how many laps do you want me to run, sir?" You asked in a way that Hoshina knows that if he were to discipline you, you'd pull your rank and find a way to refuse. Or perhaps you'll do it anyways and exaggerate his cruelty as a Vice Captain. So instead, why not take this opportunity to interrogate you?

"None. Just wanna talk"

"But Hibino-"

"Hibino-kun this Hibino-kun that. Do ya like the guy that much?" Hoshina cuts in, irked in a way he doesn't really understand.

"Negative. Just thought you'd be more fair," you responded flippantly, your eyes sharp and questioning.

"And who says you'll go unpunished?" Your eyes widened at that—but just as quickly as it did—your face returned to its calm and collected facade. Enjoying seeing the briefest crack in your composure, Hoshina started to wonder what else makes you tick and what other expressions can you make.

With a smirk he leaned back and forth on the balls of his feet, his hands clasped behind his back. "Say how long have you been in the force?"

The twitch of your eyebrow tells him you're thinking, what does that have to do with being punished. But you still responded, "six years, sir."

"Ahh so a little bit after me. No wonder. I would've remembered a face like yours in my cadet days." He said with a teasing smile. You seem to freeze a bit at his flirtation and it might be wishful thinking but did he see a small blush? Before he could think about it any further you responded, "yes, how very unfortunate we couldn't have entered the force together. Perhaps things could've been different if I had," insinuating something else.

"You're really out for my blood aren't you y/n-kun?" He chuckled lightly.

"Nope. Not really," you said nonchalantly seemingly finding his shoulder more interesting to look at. Hoshina leaned down to cut your line of sight. Face tilted at an angle, he leaned close to your face to force your eyes on him.

"Hmmm this is no good y/n-kun. We're supposed to be comrades, but where's the comraderie? How can we fight kaiju while bickering?"

"We'll survive," you said exasperated.

"Say, ya know what? I think I've thought of the perfect punishment for ya!" Hoshina exclaimed with an almost boyish excitement. He leaned back against the table and crossed his arms. "Since ya wanna be Vice Captain so bad, for your punishment ya have to follow me 'round and help me out with my duties."

"Like a servant?" You responded bewildered with his idea.

"Servant, slave, Vice Vice Captain. Call it whatever ya want. This way we can form a better relationship, which, hey, will set a great example for the kids," he joked only to be responded with your incredulous face that couldn't even bother to hide your grimace. "If anything, it'll benefit you too since you get to see what I do," he continued, shrugging slightly. "Maybe you can even find all my weaknesses and make a huge list to use against me to get my position," Hoshina chuckled at the thought.

After a beat of silence, Hoshina was moments away from taking it all back when you said, "okay, send me your schedule." This time, it was Hoshina whose eyes widened. He fully expected you to reject it. Hell, he suggested it in the first place because he wanted to see your reaction and how'd you go about rejecting him. Well, things are about to get fun.

His mouth curled into a grin. "Meet me at my office by 7am tomorrow," Hoshina said as he headed out of the room. "Get some rest, you'll need it."

"Whatever you say, your highness, bowlcut motherfucker," he heard you mumble under your breath as the door clicks close behind him.

Oh yea. This will be fun.

‐------------

It's been three weeks since you've been tasked to follow him around. Three weeks of teasing and getting to know each other. Three weeks of little change in your attitude towards him, Hoshina thinks sadly. He thought that he would've been able to win you over with this extra time together. Yet, it seems that he was the only one being won over.

He couldn't stop himself even if he tried. Your quick and witty comebacks. Your cold phrasing and comments that are unintentionally funny (or perhaps they are intentional and it's just your humour?). Your earnest efforts in completing the ridiculous tasks he's assigned you. The glimmer in your eyes and your attempts to stop a smile when you're trying to pretend he isn't funny. He couldn't help but be drawn towards you—basking in the light that you emit, the light you try to hide behind your cold facade.

He wonders if you could tell. If you noticed the glances he threw your way. If you saw how he lit up when you entered the room. If you could see how distracted he became when you sat and worked beside him. Shoulders only a hair's breath apart. So close that he could only smell your sweet perfume and watch your fingers fiddle with the edge of paper. He always had to stop himself from leaning closer until his nose rested in the crook of your neck—until he could breath you in deeper. Oh how he longed to close his hand over yours so that you could hold onto something more stable than paper. How he wished to distract you the way you distracted him.

Hoshina huffs out a sigh as he walks out of the captains meeting with the other divisions. Ashiro couldn't attend so he went in her stead—much to Captain Narumi's displeasure. He did take you with him hoping that after this maybe he could convince you to get ice cream with him or something on the way back home to base. He can already imagine how bored you were waiting for him and how that might higher your chances of saying yes. He remembers you were talking with some other recruit from the 1st division when he left you in the break room.

The sound of your voice makes him halt a couple of steps infront of the break room.

"Eh? No way you think Captain Narumi is cooler than Captain Ashiro," he hears you argue.

"I'm sorry are your eyes broken or something? He's so hot. You can't compare him to her like that. They're two different kinds of hot" the girl he assumes he saw earlier responds passionately.

"Sure I'll concede to that but not to him being cooler." That's not something Hoshina wanted to hear right after his hours long meeting. Leaning back against the wall beside the slightly opened door, he can't help but feel irked. He couldn't believe he's getting jealous of Ashiro.

"Ugh that's just cuz you haven't seen him up close yet, " the other girl responds. "But hey, at least there's one thing we can agree on."

"And what's that?" You ask and Hoshina can tell your interests has been peaked.

"That Vice Captain Hoshina is the worst of the bunch." Hoshina's eyebrow twitches and he has half a mind go in there and make the recruit do 200 push-ups or try to find Narumi and beat him into a pulp. He doesn't because he was more curious about your response.

"I saw you rolling your eyes at him before the meeting. It must be tough working for him," the recruit continues.

You let out a tired laugh, "oh yeah, he's the worst. He's got me running around like a servant!" You say with a sigh and you lean your head onto your crossed arm on top of the table.

"Really! That's crazy. I just can't get over his bowlcut."

"RIGHT! His stupid bowlcut. His stupid fangs. His stupid cocky attitude..." Alright, well. Hoshina couldn't handle anymore of this. He pushed himself off the wall ready to open the door.

"God, I want him so bad." Huh? Hoshina froze in his steps, eyes wide open. Did he mishear you? He must have misheard you.

"HUH?" The recruit repeats a second later. "But you were just calling his hair stup-"

"It is stupid. He should not look that hot with that hair cut," you ramble on seriously as if in a world of your own.

"Stupid little fangs. I hate the way he uses them to nibble on his lips when he concentrates. Why the fuck does he have fangs?! Is he a vampire? God, it's so distracting." Although you're saying all of this like a rant, Hoshina can't help but overheat in his uniform. Covering half his face with his hand he already knows he's red.

"What? Are we looking at the same person?!" The recruit exclaims exasperated with you.

"I think I'm losing my mind," you say running your hand through your hair trying to soothe yourself. "He's so annoying. Always teasing me and sticking so close to me. God I feel like I'm always a second away from tearing at my hair or tearing that stupid compression shirt off. Any tighter and he won't be able to breath. It's like he's doing it on purpose to show off his abs." Hoshina chokes on his own spit.

"You know what? M-maybe it's cuz you haven't gone on a date in a while. Maybe you just need to get laid." The recruit says with a touch of worry—genuinely trying to find any rhyme or reason to your attraction.

"Ughhhh," you say sliding down your chair. "Maybe you're right, I should get laid." There's a pause before you're suddenly sitting back up straight. You lean towards the recruit across the table, "maybe I'll ask Captain Narumi out."

NO "NO!! He's off limits don't you fucking dare!" The recruit screams standing up abruptedly and slamming her hands onto the table.

By the sounds of your maniacal laughter, Hoshina hopes you're only joking.

"Don't worry," you wheeze out, wiping a tear from your eye. "Your precious Captain is all yours." Hoshina hears the humour and mischief in your voice and he can't help but smile too. From the sound of your voice, he knows you're not done teasing the recruit.

"PLUS-" Ah, there she goes " Vice Captain Hoshina is much much MUCH cooler than Captain Snorumi anyways."

The scandalous gasp does well to hide his own snicker.

"HOW DARE YOU!"

"That's just the truth, hun. We all know it," you say matter of factly as you lean back into your seat crossing your arms.

"You can't even compare someone who's only a Vice Captain to a Captain! Captain Narumi climbed the r-"

"Oh is being Captain all it takes to be cool? Well Narumi must've been a drag before he became Captain." You argue back defiantly and cheekily, clearly enjoying this.

"Well swords are powerless against a gun! He can't-"

"And yet he was able to be promoted to Vice Captain with his swords while some of us can't even become a platoon leader with their guns." Both the recruit and Hoshina gasp at that and Hoshina decides to interrupt before the situation escalates further. If only he was a little less responsible. He would've loved to see how far you'd go for him. Oh well, he has all the time in the world to corner you about it.

"Yoohoo! The meetings over y/n-kun- Ah, sorry, was I interrupting something?" He says with a grin as both your heads snap towards him scandalized. Well, the recruit appears to be scandalized. You seem to be mortified.

Your jaw dropped open and the red that was flushing your skin from the tip of your ears all the way down to your neck was so pleasing. To think that you yourself would be the downfall of your cool and collected image amuses Hoshina greatly. He can only stare and admire the mess you've become. Too cute. Way too cute for his heart.

"C-captain!" Your voice cracks. Oh, even cuter. "I uh- I, we were- you didn't interrupt anything at all" you say clearing your throat and trying to regain your composure.

"What's got ya all worked up l/n?" He asks with false innocence as he tilts his head, "were you talking about something you shouldn't be?" He teases with a slight lilt in his voice.

"Of course not!" Growing a shade brighter you add "Sir!" to try to save yourself.

"Well alright then, come on let's go, I'm over this place," Hoshina says nodding his head goodbye at the recruit and exiting the room. He hears you whisper shout your own goodbyes before running to catch up with him. You stop and walk slightly behind him and he can't help but revel in your embarassment. He wonders if he should let you off easy or see how far he can push you...

"So you think my hair is stupid?"

He swears he can hear you internally scream.

[sugar-grigri]

Fujimoto answers you directly in this chapter (yes)

How about reading CSM differently? Or at least cut it up differently? Because the more the chapters progress, the more a certain pattern seems to repeat itself: Part 1 sounds as if Fujimoto is unveiling CSM in its purest form, then Part 2 sounds as if CSM is responding to its own reception by its fans. 

I've already said many times that Fujimoto likes contrast in form and in writing, and this chapter, though brain-numbing, simply follows Fujimoto's own rules, only in an even more accentuated way. 

To prove my point, I recommend you reread chapter 133 "Protest", which for me speaks directly to the divisive image represented by Fujimoto and his work Chainsaw Man. 

I've already done an exhaustive analysis of it, but let's get one thing out of the way: Fujimoto answers his fans in part 2. 

Whether it's by posing a heroine who seems incompatible with Denji, hating the figure of CSM which is nonetheless the work in which she's included, whether it's through the themes addressed by part 2, the question of dual identity, creating antagonists like Fake!CSM, setting up a church (us) around CSM 

We're in a work that speaks for itself, as chapter 137 confirms, and for this very rule, we refer to the previous chapters (an eternal restart).

Chapter 136, entitled "Normal Life", refers to a more-than-CENTRAL theme in Chainsaw Man, the nerve that irrigated the whole of Part 1 Denji's disillusionment, a bargaining chip for the former antagonist, Fujimoto takes his fans by the hand and puts them back into the game they know. 

We see what we'd all expected to see, a Denji who doesn't know how to fit into normal life, who's not cut out for 

In my previous analysis, I explained how not only is Denji incapable of having a normal life, not only because of himself but also because of Yoshida, who offers him this life, and above all because of Fujimoto, who abruptly breaks the rhythm of his own chapter with this aggression, frustrating (I'm sure on purpose) his own fans. 

What Fujimoto does is make you think you were reading in the right direction, showing you a Denji depressed by his normal life, and like a child amused by not wanting to be predictable, he breaks what would otherwise have been a logical thing to see. I mean… Who could have foreseen such a title?

Chapter 137 simply follows the same logic: Fujimoto has foreseen your frustrated reactions and knows full well that you've become attached to Denji, hoping that he'll break out of the cycle of manipulation. 

He plays you in this chapter by setting up a confident, emotionally well-adjusted Denji who pushes this stranger away, reminding her of the rules of respect and consent. 

It's not just Denji's thoughts, the way he would have liked to act, it's also the way YOU would have liked him to act. 

Now I can explain why these chapters, which break with the previous ones in their absurdity, are surely the most important in CSM. 

Many had pointed to the famous cinema reference in chapter 136, others had even noted that chapter 136 constituted chapter 39 of part 2, responding to Makima's date with Denji in part 1 in the same chapter. 

But chapter 39 of part 1 wasn't just interesting for the cinema scene, it was the one that set the rules for understanding CSM. 

In fact, it was this chapter to which chapter 93 responded, with Denji's ideology (in favor of bad movies) confronting Makima (against bad movies).

In the same way, the second chapter 39 (the 136th) also seeks to lay down rules

Chapters 136 and 137 have never been more responsive to CSM fans, stubbornly denying them what they want. 

What Fujimoto does is to return to cinema in its purest form in the second half, using the codes of the middle-aged male slasher. 

That's why the two high-school students go to Fujimoto's karaoke bar, because you're going to find yourself in its purest essence: having fun with the utmost absurdity. 

It's no longer a question of representing cinema, as in the two chapters 39, but of making cinema.

But why a slasher? Think of the mythical slashers that traumatized a generation… Yes… The Texas Chainsaw Massacre is a work that has achieved cult status for having opened the door to a new trend in American horror cinema: the slasher movie. Nothing represents a slasher movie more than a chainsaw-headed hero?

Inspired by the Italian "giallos", slasher movies feature a masked killer, a gang of youngsters and the killings of the serial killer in question. Fujimoto takes up this theme in his own way: Denji doesn't kill with his iconic chainsaw, he's not masked, and it's the young couple who hold the beats and the shady men who get killed.

If we go back to the depression we all expected to see, it's actually more complicated to understand: Denji's depression at being trapped in a type of writing that's too serious for him. 

Here Denji follows the rules of the game, enjoying himself by killing all those old people, saying ironically: "not bad this normal life". 

Because this scene is perfectly normal in Fujimoto's karaoke.  

In itself, Yoshida was right. Indeed, no, Denji is not the hero of the normal film that was unfolding before them. Because they're not in normal life, it's projected onto the screen. CSM's reality is an absurd slasher. It is in this slasher, in this false normal life, that the protagonist, Denji, is.

Denji is the protagonist of another film. And maybe in this one, the world needs Chaisaw Man.

[aleppothemushroom]

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, PLEASE SEE TRANSFORMERS ONE! It is exactly the type of movie Transformers fans have been waiting for while also working as a great entry point for newcomers. It also, surprisingly, takes itself fairly seriously and isn't afraid to go into some darker subject matter. If you're wondering why the trailers focused so much on the comedy, that's just how the Hollywood suits think an animated movie will sell. The movie itself is more in tone with other Transformers movie but also really dives into themes of political corruption, injustice, inequality, and idealism versus extremism. The friendship of Optimus Prime and Megatron (or Orion Pax and D-16) and they're inevitable falling out is one of the film's strong points. Sure, it' pretty much is a family-friendly comedy for it's first half. But once it gets into the juicy stuff, you're glued. I would even say that first comedy-centric first half is necessary for the more serious second half to really hit you. And Cybertron is so fucking beautiful. It feels like a full, alive world. The voice cast is also stellar. Chris Hemsworth surprisingly works as Orion Pax and shows he can pull off the wise and powerful Optimus that he becomes near the end of the movie. Brian Tyree Henry steals the show as D-16 and Megatron, perfectly capturing his turn to villainy. There are also some twists and turns to keep the movie from being too predictable.

If I had any complaints, the film can feel a little too fast-paced at times. The important stuff is given time to develop, but everything else feels like it's in fast-forward (Elita and Bumblebee's friendship with Optimus feels a little rushed). This also applies to the action which can feel overwhelming. Not all the time, but most of the time. Bumblebee I can also see being a bit divisive. Some people may find him hilarious, others I can see being incredibly annoyed by. But I'm sure he'll be popular with the kids.

This movie apparently isn't doing so well, which sucks because this feels like THE Transformers movie. If you've enjoyed this franchise in the past, I'd highly recommend it. I want there to be so many sequels to this thing, I'm not even kidding.

[phobic-human]

very ehhh of you to support Hamas, which are theocrats who aren't that supported in Gaza

that being said pflp are pretty based

No I wouldn't say it's very "ehhh" of me to support Hamas, I think it is an absolute necessity to support all Palestinian resistance, regardless of ideological difference. To exclude and condemn one movement but idolize another one is blind idealism. It just so happens that Hamas has been better at organizing and constructing a resistance movement than any other faction, and that has subsequently placed them at the forefront of armed resistance against israel.

We must remember Hamas are not these spooky islamist extremists akin to the Islamic State, Hamas allows Palestinians to follow other religions like Christianity in Gaza, it has destroyed no churches in Gaza unlike israel and isis. Hamas is also allied with Hezbollah and Iran, both Shia, despite being largely Sunni. Hamas fights along side both the PFLP and DFLP under the Joint Operations Room, if Hamas was so bad than why would the Marxist-Leninist groups be allied with them? Because they are all united in a common struggle against one enemy and cannot afford to be divided. Theocrat often rings out like a snarl word, Islam is an integral part of Palestinian culture and identity.

Supporting the Palestinian resistance without Hamas, is not supporting the Palestinian resistance at all. We are in the midst of a genocide and we can't just cherry pick which groups to support. When we condemn Hamas we are dangerously aligning with both israel and anti-Palestinian groups because that is exactly what they want, sowing division and shattering unity. I highly recommend reading The Thorn And The Carnation by Yahya Sinwar because it helps explain the rise of the Islamist current in Palestine at a time when the secular/nationalist current was negotiating with israel and selling out, meanwhile the leftist current had isolated itself because it was far too busy engaging in intellectual debate rather than reality.

So yes, I support Hamas and stand with them, because I can look beyond ideological lenses and see that they are at the center of the resistance. They continue to fight heroically in defense of their people, and their contributions to the armed struggle cannot be overstated. Like it or not Hamas is not going anywhere and we cannot fully support Palestine without them.

[sitp-recs]

Can you recommend fics where harry thinks draco is up to something? thank you so much! I love this blog.

Sure thing, anon! A classic Drarry trope👌🏼I hope you enjoy these:

push and pull you down by @bonesliketambourines (E, 5k)

Harry's resigned himself to petty, inconsequential cases and no real connection to his job at the Auror department—after all, what else would he be doing with his time? He's not happy, not really, but that hardly matters. A chance encounter with a mostly-naked Draco Malfoy exposes him to an entirely different world, one much more colourful than the lonely one he currently occupies—but at what cost?

The Usual by @aibidil (T, 9k)

Harry finally tries the new magical coffee shop on Diagon Alley. A story in which Draco is Up To Something™ and Harry is going to get to the bottom of it, and to the bottom of that sixteen ounce to-go cup.

Operation Dragon's Shenanigans by @nv-md (E, 14k)

Harry's in love with Draco, but it's complicated. Even more complicated than 'I'm in love with my ex-archnemesis and I get dizzy every time I see him smile'. No matter that Harry's an Auror, and always loved a good mystery, he's still having trouble figuring Draco out. And he's the only one who can see that Draco isn't a regular human.

Sleight of Hand by @the-starryknight (E, 15k)

It’s another one of those horrid Ministry affairs, and the only interesting thing is twinkling from Draco Malfoy’s finger. Can you really blame Harry for being fascinated by the gorgeous emerald ring and those long, elegant hands, especially when he’s certain Malfoy is up to something?

Espresso Patronum by @tasteofshapes (T, 15k)

When Draco reappears five years after the war and opens a wildly popular coffee shop, Harry’s pretty sure that Draco’s Up to Something. He just has to prove it.

The Regret Machine by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 15k)

Malfoy’s coming in to do fancy Legilimency work on Hermione’s mind healing machine. Harry’s his test subject—and he’s pretty sure Malfoy is still Up To Something.

Infuse With Affection, Enchant With Love by @bafflinghaze (T, 16k)

It starts with Draco making protective pendants for himself, his parents, and his friends, after the war. Something that would watch their backs—and their fronts—as people spat on them in the streets and hexed them in the alleyways. Draco gets better at it, does a course on it, and takes enough commissions for charmed jewellery that he eventually opens his own shop.

Rich Friend by @sorrybutblog (E, 18k)

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Here Be Dragons by birdsofshore (E, 21k)

Harry doesn’t want to waste his time investigating illegal dragonhide trading, whether it involves a fetish club in Knockturn Alley or visiting a remote island in Wales. Why the bloody hell does Malfoy always have to be up to something?

Trouble, My Old Friend by Tepre (E, 21k)

Harry goes rogue investigating an illegal potion and ends up at Draco Malfoy's dodgy lab.

Tuxedo Angel by tryslora (E, 25k)

Harry and Neville are looking for the infamous Dragon Lily, a Dark witch active throughout Europe and Asia. Instead, they find the Tuxedo Angel, a beautiful witch performing in Rome. Harry quickly discovers that the Angel is not what she seems, and fights his attraction to her, while both he and the Angel are drawn into a web created by ancient magic that pulls them together, whether they are ready for it or not.

À Bon Chat by @oknowkiss (E, 35k)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief.

measures of our days and nights by flimsy (E, 40k)

Draco returns to London to help the Ministry decipher a spell, but things aren’t quite as simple as they seem.

The Last Day We Ever Close Our Eyes by @firethesound (E, 43k)

When Draco Malfoy returns to the public eye by purchasing a run-down little antiques shop on Knockturn, Harry is convinced that he is up to something. It turns out that Harry is both very right and very wrong about that.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

The Star Splitter by @oflights (E, 219k)

On a routine time travel assignment to the past, Draco stumbles upon 7-year-old Harry Potter and witnesses his neglect and mistreatment by the Dursleys. In the moment, there is only one solution, even if it goes against all his training as a Time Agent: he has to bring Harry back to the future with him.

[jesswritesthat]

Bokuto Kōtarō: Misunderstanding

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~1.5k, fluff

• Bokuto likes you, but gets the completely the wrong idea. You’re fine being friends though, right? A MSBY beach training session will sort that out.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

Being surrounded by rowdy division 1 volleyball players wasn't how you expected it to be, you'd expected their level of professionalism to be carried over into their everyday lives - but this was not the case. Gladly so, honestly.

They were chaotic and mischievous, oblivious and loving, with a shenanigan never too far away. This was especially true for Bokuto, the wing Spiker who you'd become undeniably close with.

It was no secret he'd felt the same, always greeting you first and walking you home if you remained after his false promises of 'one more'.

MSBY could see it plain as day, though Bokuto had insisted you were only one of his best friends, there was a growing attraction imbued to his actions. How his gaze softened upon seeing you, how he'd memorised your boundaries so he could utilise physical contact, and how he'd effortlessly fit into your everyday life.

The teasing of his current teammates was swiftly dismissed as a joke however, when he received a visit from a particular nutritionist that seemed to shatter everyones' perceptions. Yukippe and Bokuto spent the entire visit by one another's side leaving you all to simply get on with your respective jobs bar a few interactions.

"So you're pretty close with (L/n)-san huh?"

Shirofuku Yukie observed, the former manager of Fukurōdani - a team Bokuto truly cherished and would enthusiastically talk to you about late into the night and then profusely apologise for keeping you out so late whilst walking you home or preparing his bed for you to crash in. Yet every time, the love never faded.

It meant Yukie, like the rest of the team, was special to him.

"Didn't you hear me tell you the last 10 times Yukippe? We're not together, only friends and that's it - right (Y/n)?" He'd called after you for support when you'd walked past, yourself heaving a dejected sigh when answering and leaving the room.

"Platonic with a capital P."

The nutritionist seemed a little deflated by your deadpan response and lack of flustering to her claims as you disappeared through the gym doors, having hoped you'd felt the same attraction as her old Ace clearly did to you.

"Friends don't... you don't look at your friends like that Kōtarō. Not once did you ever look at Fukurōdani like that." Yukie pleadingly justified, both former Fukurōdani members outcast from the speculation regarding them.

"I know... but I can't help it." Bokuto hummed hopelessly, the truth making his emotions even more jarring. "I'd date them in a heartbeat, honestly."

"Then why don't you birdbrain?"

"Eh?! Because I can't! They're just not into... I mean they..." He froze again, this time due to his uncertainty about personal specifics being public knowledge - you'd scolded him on not thinking before he speaks multiple times, and this was one of those times. "They're... just a friend."

———

It was the day you dreaded, the MSBY Jackals had decided to head out to the beach to try an unorthodox form of training recommended by Hinata. The man had experience as a beach volleyball player and suggested playing on sand had increased both his power and balance for on court matches also.

So here you stood, watching a bunch of physically fit pro athletes in swimwear play varying matches of beach volleyball. You'd crafted a necessary regime though and prepared everything required, and it seemed your team were surprised by your less formal appearance (as you're fairly certain this trip wasn't entirely for training purposes considering they'd reserved a chunk of their schedule for swimming and such).

As expected they'd garnered a fair bit of admiration but you remained oblivious to the attention you were getting, even if the team were protectively aware. All the more amusing when Bokuto noticed it too, overhearing a nearby strangers comment along the lines of "...really hot, I'll try to talk to them when they’re finished and I get the chance." directed toward you.

It was no surprise (to the team) when their resident loud mouth decided to make an overly showy entrance.

"Then we can work on— argh the hell?" You pulled the MSBY track jacket from your head, revealing a bemused team and happy-go-lucky Bokuto walking backwards presenting himself with arms wide.

"Don't want you damaging your skin in the sun!" A double thumbs up and cheesy grin was sent your way courtesy of the spiker much to your chagrin. Is this how that Akaashi guy felt catching jackets all the time?

Regardless you put it on, resuming your informative update and even when you were done, you missed the unanimous smirks of the team due to having no interruptions despite having the chance.

MSBY had taken a brief break in the sea / sunbathing and to your expectancy there was a commotion in the water, having used your hand as shade to see you immediately regretted doing so. Kōtarō had stepped out of the ocean, muscles dripping and hair unfairly framing his face with a bright grin on his features. You hated this job, you hated this job, god dammit why?! Naturally he was greeted by two beautiful women and you're certain they'd complimented him and asked a question but he strolled right past them - only then did you realise his gaze was locked on you.

In a second a finger gently lifted your chin and you were met with the most beautiful sight you'd ever seen in your life, the sunlight highlighting his skin only disabling your thoughts further.

"Hey hey hey! What are you staring at (Y/n)? You zoned out."

"Uh— I, breathtaking..." You'd breathed it in way that caught Kōtarō off guard, amber irises analytically scanning your eyes, then lips, prior to turning to the horizon which snapped you back to reality.

"Yeah it is an incredible view huh?" He'd moved to stand by your side now, hands proudly on his hips.

"Yeah the view." A pause, then a glare. "Kōtarō those women...!"

"He really doesn't have eyes for anyone else does he?" Hinata chuckled, watching the scene unfold alongside Atsumu.

"Nah, (Y/n) is the only one who doesn't realise though."

They overheard your faint protest of how 'women were trying to talk to him and he shouldn't have just ignored them like that' but Bokuto seemed to happily dismiss it.

"Why so mad? Did you think they were pretty? I can introduce you if you want (Y/n)?" His reply was questionable, and once Bokuto had gone over to (an eavesdropping) Atsumu and Hinata (who were definitely flustering him about something) you fell into thought.

You'd seen Atsumu address most who tried to flirt with him, the same with the other players, but the fact Bokuto had just ignored them was strange. Normally he enjoyed praise after matches, or any time really. Maybe he'd reached his limit today?

You didn’t have time to further ponder it though when you were interrupted by the aforementioned trio - Bokuto hailing your attention.

“Hey (N/n)! We’re gonna have another game, will you be my partner?”

“Did you run out of teammates? Or did Sakusa say no?”

“No! Jeez, I wanted you to set for me is that such a crime?” Bokuto jokingly pouted, yourself only shaking your head in bemusement.

“I’m in, makes sense to put the two Spikers on different teams.”

“Sure. That’s why Bokkun asked.” Atsumu muttered under his breath, received a chiding jab to his side courtesy of the owl.

———

It was a late practice tonight but you believed the beach trip a week ago had imbued them with motivation. As the final practice match came to an end, the team prepared to head off separately. However, Meians’ partner had come for him today and you regretfully found yourself admiring the pair - how she’d brought food for him, and waited to go home together.

A defeated sigh escaped you, and only then did you take note of the presence beside you.

"Are you thinking about trying whatever they were eating?" Kōtarō spoke, gym bag over his shoulder having followed your direction of sight.

"Sorta? Well more like... no it's stupid." You embarrassingly waved it off, starting toward the exit when a gentle grip clasped your wrist.

"I'll still listen, stupid is more fun. Plus now I'm hungry."

You watched as he planted himself on the bench, a competitive aura about him that said 'I’m not moving until you tell me' and who were you to deny the person who was walking you home.

"Well, I was just thinking about going out with someone but I don't think it's in the cards for me." Your calm nature and words seemed to surprise him, Bokutos' eyes widening slightly and for a second you swore he was contemplating more than usual.

"You're really awesome, you know that right?" You turned to him now, completely puzzled whilst he continued. "Anyone would be so lucky to have you, I'd be ecstatic, so try to see yourself how I see you."

"If you see me so positively, maybe you should just date me yourself Kōtarō." You jokingly laughed along with that accompaniment when he abruptly stood up with renewed determination.

"I would! I love you as a friend anyway and I've liked you for ages, but I can't."

"What? I thought you liked Shirofuku hence why you were telling her we were just friends." You facepalmed, but reiterated your point of view to aid with his understanding.

"No I— I thought you were only into girls!"

…

There was a mortified silence, like the whole gymnasium had heard this and decided to tune in to listen. You're almost certain you heard Atsumu choke.

"Since when?! Where did you even get the idea?"

“Huh? I dunno, overheard ‘Tsum ‘Tsum mention it once, and you’ve never been bothered by male attention so I didn’t pry.”

“And you believed Miya Atsumu?!�� You swear you heard the entire remaining team unanimously facepalm, grumbling curses under their breath despite Miyas’ hopeless protest.

“You gotta trust your teammates right? But when you put it like that…” Bokuto looked sheepish, despite his adamant defence of his setter which only left you laughing out loud.

“What’s so funny? It was a misunderstanding, I didn’t treat you differently and love you all the same no matter who you like.”

You paused, sighing hopelessly with a soft smile matching your new tone.

"Kōtarō, I like you."

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[bluemari23]

lemon tart | choi seungcheol

summary: a new cafe for a much needed date brings out tons of giggles and plenty of kisses

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: soulmate, soulmate au, fluff, established relationship

warnings: none really, mentions of an awful supervisor,

word count: .8k

masterlist

------------------------------------------------------

“Right this way please.” The hostess began walking to the right, leading you and your soulmate to the table reserved for you both. 

It was a long day coming, having had trouble trying to find the time between both of your jobs to have a much needed date. You worked at his company, but that still didn’t mean you always got to be with him. 

Seungcheol had been having a lot of practices and rehearsals recently at the stadium, making sure everything was perfect for the first concert of their world tour coming up. It would be the first tour since covid, and him and his entire group were beyond excited and ready to perform and see their fans again. 

When you get to the table, Seungcheol moves to your seat, pulling it out for you to sit in. 

“Why thank you, kind sir.” You grin up at him as he pushes your chair in, slightly tugging on your hair teasingly as he does so. 

“You are most welcome, my dear.” He goes along with your playful attitude, his own grin prominent against his cheeks as he does a posh sort of accent. He sat down and you both ordered your drinks, ignoring the weird look from the hostess at your playful attitudes. 

“Shua says they have really good lemonade here.” Cheol says offhandedly as you both read over the menu. Joshua had been to the small cafe before with his soulmate and recommended it to you because of your love of lemon. The cafe seemed to be known for their lemon treats and lemonade.

“We’ll have to try some then!” You exclaim, looking over all of the different lemon flavored treats. 

In the end, you ordered a plate of little lemon cakes and tarts to share and he ordered a sandwich plate to share.

While you waited for your food, you both sipped a little on your drinks. The lemonade was sweet and a little tart, the perfect drink for the little date you had together. 

“I think you should come on tour with us.” Cheol breaks the fun atmosphere with a serious suggestion. It had been on both of your minds lately that you should go on the world tour with them. 

Neither of you wanted to be away from each other for long, but all the company policy on soulmates states is that you need at least a couple days every couple weeks to bond and keep the soulbond healthy. It didn’t specify anything about being allowed on tour with them. 

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed to, Cheol.” You repeat the same thing every time this conversation comes up. You had pretty much given up on going with the boys. Your supervisor seemed to laugh every time you brought up the suggestion and refused to bring it up to any of his bosses. 

“Well, what if I said I talked to your division head personally? I know that jerk of a supervisor won’t do anything.” He was right, your supervisor thought it was hilarious that you had a soulmate, finding you incapable of anything and thought your soulbond was a huge joke. 

“I would ask you what he said?” Your voices pitches at the end of your sentence, confusion lingering in your tone as you raise an eyebrow at your soulmate.

You wait somewhat impatiently as your soulmate takes a sip of his lemonade, slowly breaking out into laughter as he catches the look of disbelief on your face at his teasing.

“Then, my lovely soulmate, I would tell you that we need to start packing suitcases for you.” Your eyes widen in shock, wondering how long your soulmate had kept this little surprise from you. 

Ignoring everything around you, you surge forward and capture Cheol’s lips with your own, catching your older soulmate off guard. He was swift in his reflexes though, catching you and holding cupping your cheek with one hand as the other goes to steady you against him. 

In your excitement you almost knock the lemonade out of his hand before he quickly placed it back on the table. 

“Wow baby. If this is how you react to going on tour, I wonder how many kisses I get when I tell you we get to go to your home city.” Cheol’s guess would have been wrong either way, because you both lost count to how many excited kisses you placed on his lips, his chin, his cheeks, and his nose. 

You hadn’t been to your home city in a couple of years, and it would be the first time for Seungcheol to go as your soulmate. You were beyond excited with your soulmate.

After pulling back and sitting back in your chair, your face was flushed and your lips were swollen. Not even the tartness of the lemon in your cake could make you lose the smile on your lips. 

[junsite]

its winter 1993 and i fell in love somewhere in the middle of pittsburg.

투바투 최수빈 ༝ gn reader 1.3k college au angst? ༯ cw. alcohol usage, brief mention of physical intimacy, grief?, lmk.

yuyu note 𖡎 this is heavily inspired by the perks of being a wallflower. i hope you enjoy ୨ৎ (recommend listening to homesick by w2e while reading..)

it wasn’t new to you. another new year spent at a full house, every partygoer spilling liquor from their breath while you held your red solo cup. right now you were just trying to make your way through the crowd of sweaty girls looking for their partners, the disgustingly sticky floor, and the musty fragrance that infiltrated your nostrils.

soobin knew you hated parties like this but dragged you along anyway. why invite you when he was going to disappear within the first ten minutes? either way, it wasn’t like you could say no to him. you were his best friend after all, his partner in crime. you couldn’t just leave him unsupervised.

the moment you reached some sort of air circulation, you took a deep breath, plugging in your headphones, fidgeting with the black wire as you took small sips from your cup. your playlist shuffled from the smiths, to joy division, and a mixture of all things you loved.

a sudden tap on your shoulder brought you back down, turning around to see that same dimpled smile you love. his eyes sparkled, messy hair falling perfectly over his forehead. you felt a visible release of tension as you sighed.

“some other people over there are gonna start playing truth or dare,”

you could smell the light scent of liquor on his breath, “wanna go?”

you nodded slowly, grabbing onto his sleeve as you walked through the crowd again. truth or dare was always a timeless game that, even now, two years into college, it followed you. there was already a small clearing formed in the back corner of the lounge.

no matter how much you dreaded the game, you sat down beside soobin on the floor, now meeting some familiar faces. it was a simple game; stick a bottle in the middle, spin it, and whoever it landed on had to pick truth or dare. like always, the game consisted of secretive questions and more physical touch than needed. it wasn’t until the bottle landed on soobin that you truly started paying attention.

“oh uh, t-tr.. no! dare!” he stammered, looking over at jisung, anticipating the worst.

jisung gave you a knowing look, pretending to think intensely. honestly, the only person who couldn’t see your overwhelming crush on soobin was him himself. so what would anyone do to pursue this everlasting love?

“i dare you to.. kiss the prettiest girl here.” jisung smirked, giving you a knowing look.

the words echoed in your head, the world slowing down as you looked over to soobin. you could see the color rising in his cheeks, his eyes darting around nervously. the pushing from the others clearly getting to him. it was like all eyes were on you, expecting him to finally make that first move, then happily ever after. you held your breath, your heart pounding in your chest, hands clammy prepared for his touch. then he turned, his soft lips pressing a tender kiss onto jisu. choi jisu. the choi jisu that wasn’t you. you felt the room tilt, a sharp pain slicing through your chest as if someone had physically struck you.

the cheers died down, the room spinning around you. you forced a chuckle, a brittle sound that cracked at the edges as soobin turned back to you, his face a mask of embarrassment. your vision blurred, tears pricking at your waterline, threatening to fall. you tried to steady your breathing,, looking down at your own interlocked hands, nails digging into each other leaving a sting.

“oh, wow,” someone exclaimed, the voices around you muffled and distant. “that was.. uh.. unexpected.”

three more rounds. you just had to endure three more rounds. but the pain was too raw, too immediate. you couldn’t sit through it anymore. with a shaky breath, you slowly stood up, the room spinning slightly as you did. an uncoordinated speed walk toward the kitchen, the noise of the party fading into the background, despite the heavy bass vibrating the floor beneath you.

you had to lean against the counter to ground yourself, the cool surface calming that burning pit that dug deeper and deeper into your stomach. a few minutes passed, each second feeling like an eternity. the kitchen was a little quieter, the party's noise dulled by the walls, and the lack of people comforting your aching pain. you took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself, when you heard footsteps approaching. you didn’t need to open your eyes to know who it was.

“hey,” he mumbled as he walked closer, voice soft and laced with worry, “you okay?”

you forced a smile, opening your eyes to meet his worried gaze. “yeah, i’m fine,” you muttered, the lie tasting bitter on your tongue. you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the care. it made your heart ache even more.

“why’d you run out like that? the bottle landed on your spot before you left,” he gave you a small smile, likely to try to brighten the mood.

you shook your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i’m.. i'm fine. really.” the words felt hollow. “can we just.. can we just go home?”

“yeah.. uh.. yeah, let’s just get out of here.”

the walk back to his car was silent, the cold night air a stark contrast to the mix of heat you had inside. you focused on the crunch of gravel beneath your feet, anything to keep your mind from replaying the scene over and over, the daggering stares that would especially keep you up at night.

you leaned back against the seat, closing your eyes. the quiet hum of the engine as soobin started the car was oddly comforting, the radio buzzing static; he still hadn’t fixed it. the silence between you was heavy but familiar, a shared understanding that words weren’t necessary right now. the street lights flickered past, casting fleeting shadows across soobin’s face. you stole a glance at him, or maybe two, or maybe it was blatant staring at the one you refused to acknowledge belonged to another.

you both sat in the car for a moment longer, the silence wrapping around you like a fragile cocoon as he parked in front of your dorm building. finally, you took a deep breath and opened the door. “goodnight, soobin.”

“goodnight,” he echoed, watching as you stepped out. you gave him a small wave before heading inside, the cool night air a balm to your burning eyes.

you unlocked your door and stepped inside, the quiet of your dorm deafening. leaning against the closed door, you let out a long, shuddering breath. as you slid down to the floor, knees pulled to your chest, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. was it really fair to feel this hurt? he hadn’t done anything wrong. but the more you tried to rationalize it, the more the pain seemed to deepen, settling into every corner of your heart.

now, sitting alone in your dorm, the weight of those years pressed down on you. it wasn’t just a crush. it was a love that had been nurtured and grown over a decade. seeing him kiss her wasn’t just a momentary sting; it was the shattering of a thousand unspoken dreams and hopes. you buried your face in your hands, willing the tears to stay at bay. maybe you were overreacting. maybe it wasn’t fair to feel this way. but love wasn’t fair. it was messy and complicated, and it didn’t care about logic or reason. the tears came anyway, silent and relentless. you allowed yourself to cry, to mourn the love that had never had a chance to bloom. you cried for the missed opportunities, the words left unsaid, and the heart that had been laid bare tonight.

han jisung chem

hey im sorry abt tonight i had no clue he would do that look if you need anyone to talk to im here sorry again

read 2:37am

end note 𖡎 english isn't my first language & angst isn't my strong suite so this was really hard to write LOL. please do reblog if you enjoyed tho :p i might make a part 2..........

[mqverick]

scummy man || ✮⋆˙ .

“Cause he’s a scumbag, don’t you know?

I said he’s a scumbag, don’t you know?”

────────── ★ ───────────

The moment Daniel Kaffee walked into your office with his stupid apple and his stupid, childish ‘hi’, you knew you were fucked from top to bottom. Of course, they hadn’t taken you seriously when you petitioned Division to have counsel assigned. They brought you the first idiot they came across.

You’d written a seventeen page memo to Bronsky outlining the situation, you’d pleaded your case for a half hour in his living room on a Sunday afternoon, and Division assigned a Lt. Junior Grade? They had too be kidding (or hate you).

You’d managed to scare him, at least, and that you were proud of. He seemed like the type, who was particularly full of himself, which was proven as quite the right accusation, after a few minutes of speaking with him. He was just a bunch of royal bullshit, you’d decided — fucking wanted him off the case, even though he hadn’t even started yet.

He was never going to take it seriously, judging on how loose and cool he acted. For crying out loud, Dawson and Downey were at his sake, while Daniel could not care less about them, opting to practice baseball instead, because he claimed he had a critical game coming. Was that guy serious?

“Lieutenant, would you feel very insulted if I recommended to your supervisor that he assign different counsel?” you threatened, face burning as you struggled to contain your anger at his complete indifference to the situation.

“Why would you do that?”

He had the nerve to ask. “You’re not fit to handle the defense. One second more with you and the marines will have sealed their poor fate.”

Daniel nodded, unimpressed with your tone.

“You don’t even know me. Ordinarily, it takes someone hours to discover I’m not fit to handle a defense. You’ve known me for less than ten minutes.” He walked away from you, as if your threat was a joke to him, like he didn’t believe you.

You stupidly stared at him, blood boiling as you wondered how impossibly scummy one could be.

“I do know you. Daniel Allistair Kaffee, born June 8th, 1964 at Boston Mercy Hospital. Your father's Lionel Kaffee, former Navy Judge Advocate and Attorney General, of the United States, died 1985. You went to Harvard Law on a Navy scholarship, probably because that’s what your father wanted you to do, and now you’re just treading water for the three years you’ve gotta serve in the JAG Corps, just kinda laying low til you can get out and get a real job. And if that’s the situation, that’s fine, I won’t tell anyone. But my feeling is that if this case is handled in the same fast-food, slick-ass, Persian Bazaar manner with which you seem to handle everything else, something’s gonna get missed. And I’d be damned if I allowed Dawson and Downey to spend any more time in prison than absolutely necessary, because their attorney had pre-determined the path of least resistance,” your monologue prevented you from taking a breath, confidently crossing your arms like you’d just won an argument, as Daniel took a quick sip from his Yoo-Hoo, staring intently at you. The sun was hitting his face and if you allowed it to yourself, you could’ve observed how stunningly green his eyes were.

“Wow,” he admired, very taken aback. “I’m sexually aroused, Commander. I may be picking the wrong time to ask you this, but are you seeing anyone right now? ‘Cause I think you and I would be perfect together. It’s clear that you respect me and that’s the foundation for any solid—”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You let out an angry exhale and grabbed him by the collar of his thin baseball shirt, pulling him towards you. He gasped in surprise, breath caught in his throat as you stabbed your finger into his chest as a warning.

“Listen there, Kaffee, I will have you removed from the case, so don’t go around being cute and unbothered. Mark my words, you just waisted your last chance with me.”

And with that, you threw him back to the bleachers, storming away in annoyance and over the top frustration. Never had another human being ever crawled up under your nerves so quickly, it had to be an astonishing world record.

When you walked into your office the next day just to find Daniel sitting on your chair already, you neared the dreadful experience of going into cardiac arrest. You silently wondered how he’d managed to sneak in, but decided to ignore him.

“You didn’t do it.”

His words were softly spoken, causing you to look at him, undoubtedly baffled. “I beg your pardon?”

“You didn’t do it,” he repeated with more emphasis, as if that would help you understand what he was referring to. “I thought you really wanted me out of the case, so I went to check, see if you talked to my supervisor. You didn’t.”

Oh, so he was talking about that. You played it off as something frankly unimportant, not even bothering to reply anything to him. If you turned your back around just for one second, you could’ve seen exactly how distressed he was.

Daniel got up from your chair, walking up behind you as he towered over you, hands unexpectedly nervous, seeing as they couldn’t stay still for a full minute on the waistline of his uniform trousers. You chuckled silently to yourself, nose scrunching in pride as you turned your back, looking dead into his eyes, your own ones fixed on the way his Adam’s apple moved in his neck as he gulped.

“Good job, Lieutenant. I see you took my words seriously for once. Need to keep into mind that you shit your pants way too easily, threats have you following every order you’ve been given.”

Daniel’s eyes were blown with disbelief of your manners, brows raised in offense. There was no doubt that you were prepared to make his life a living hell, had every intention to cause this case to be his first and last one, because the way it was going, he’d either rip apart his diploma or plain out kill himself. And who had the delightful opportunity to hear Daniel complain day and night? None other than Sam.

“She hates me, I don’t even know why,” he cried while pacing back and forth in his small living room, bat placed over his shoulders as he rested his hands on it, mind far away from the case. Sam sighed, sinking back into the couch. “She barely even knows me! I always do stuff wrong for her, she’s never satisfied. Little miss perfect,” he continued without a break, swinging the bat now as he ignored the board that stood in the middle of the place. Sam felt nauseous, having baring his unstoppable yapping for what felt like decades, even though it’d only been less than ten minutes.

A knock on the door pulled him out of his unlimited boredom and he got up to see who it was, ignoring the way Daniel kept going on and on. He looked over the eye on the door, almost letting out an audible groan at the fact that it was you who had knocked, meaning that your appearance would drive his friend even crazier.

“Come in,” he whispered lowly to you as he unlocked the door and let you in. You shrugged your jacket off your shoulders, noticing that Daniel hadn’t even acknowledged the fact that someone else had gotten into his house. “Damn, I’ve never seen him like this before. Normally he loses interest in a girl after a date or two…” he commented with a smirk, but you ignored him.

“You know, I wish she could’ve taken me out of the case, so that I wouldn’t have to see her face again,” Daniel admitted frustratedly, stopping dead in his tracks momentarily as he laid his eyes on you. Suddenly, hitting his head as hard as possible with his bat didn’t seem like such a terrible idea. Oh, he was fucked to the core.

A smug, proud smile spread across your lips.

“Talking about me, Lieutenant Kaffee?” you rhetorically asked, crossing your arms and puffing your chest out arrogantly as you strode confidently across the room to get to him.

Daniel pretended to turn a deaf ear to your question, head strictly observing the case’s board as he gripped on the hand of his baseball bat. He wished the earth would open up and swallow him out of existence, his brain bleeding at the pure satisfaction he’d so universally given you by admitting the very phrase that you’d been accusing him of; dropping the case, because he couldn’t take the seriousness of it. And oh, well, because he couldn’t bare another second with you breathing down his neck and constantly criticizing him without even caring enough to get to know him — not as Daniel Kaffee, but Marine Lieutenant Kaffee. You had no idea of his potential, yet you still found it in you to look down at him, underestimate and humiliate him.

Sam incredulously just existed there, not taking any stance against either one of you. He’d been friends with Daniel since ages, which cast him to be very close to his way of thinking, and he knew for an undeniable fact that his friend was building up a brick wall of denial, hatred and irony just because he wouldn’t want to face the reality of the situation that pained his mind.

Daniel was captivated by you, Sam claimed.

He silently watched the way his eyes never left your face the entire time you spent in the small apartment, while working on the case, the split second that Daniel subconsciously let his jaw slightly hang open when you determinedly explained every detail of how to teach the marines how to act in the courtroom. Of course, Daniel was going through a matter of confusion.

You stood an obstacle to his limitless confidence and that wasn’t something he particularly wanted to experience every passing day, thus why he’d convinced himself that he hated you. But that was simply not true, at least according to Sam’s observations, which always proved to be right.

“I hate her,” he’d say all the time, but even the sound of his voice gave away the fact that he didn’t. How could he, anyway? Despite the hard time you were giving him, you actually worked by his side, boosting him even more. Come on — he was going to be in a courtroom — he’d never been in one before. All because of how stubborn you were with this case. Daniel loved it.

“Nobody likes her very much,” he’d said in Cuba, shouting his statement loudly enough for all the people in the convertible to hear despite the dizzying noise of shots and fighter planes. You’d rolled your eyes, opting not to give him the chance to stupidly smirk at himself for managing to piss you off (that was exactly his only goal).

───

Predictably enough, Daniel was laying down on his couch as a baseball game faintly played in the background, preventing him from concentrating. Truth be told, his mind was blank. He’d prepared himself mentally for what was coming; they’d lose the trial, make complete fools of themselves in front of an entire courtroom. His father was shaking his head disappointedly at him, Daniel knew it. He fiddled with his bat, glancing at the remnants of the two days old pizza he’d heated up in the microwave fifteen minutes ago, lazily thrown in a piece of kitchen paper, next to a half empty bottle of Yoo-hoo. His white uniform from earlier was thrown in a pile in a corner, like a piece of garbage he was itching to get out of his house.

A sudden buzz from his bell was heard, throwing him off as he jumped a little, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he went to the door, wondering who it could be at that time, since he wasn’t even expecting anyone. Or so he thought. The moment he opened the door, you stormed inside without even waiting for him to invite you in. Daniel stood speechless for one second, then shrugged it off, simply because it was you, and your ignorance of him was unquestionable. He looked shit, he realised; dressed in a dark gray T-shirt that had small oil stains on it because of the pizza, an abstract, unbuttoned red, brown and green colored shirt thrown over it.

“I’ve really missed you. It’s been almost three hours since I last saw—” he began sarcastically, but you cut him off abruptly, while placing a stack of papers onto the living room table.

“I can already tell that you forgot we had to meet up to discuss about the case by the way you’ve shamelessly displayed your gross dinner all over the files we need to present tomorrow. Good job, like always, Kaffee.”

Daniel didn’t bother to huff or give out any reaction, at that point, he knew that you were aware of the fact that you pushed his buttons just by breathing the same direction as him. He let his bat against the arm of the couch, taking a folder into his hands and pretending to examine it.

“Is Sam not coming?” he asked without raising his eyes to look at you.

“I don’t know, he’s your buddy. Aren’t you supposed to know better than me?”

You judged his choice of childish drink with a long, disgusting glare, then buried your face into the papers as well. Dawson and Downey relied upon the three of you deeply and if proving them not guilty meant you had to spend your Friday evening in Daniel Kaffee’s apartment, then so be it. It was a lot quieter than usual and the unfamiliar emptiness had you wondering. The baseball game was still on, distracting you from thinking clearly. “I think Kendrick ordered the Code Red. So do you,” you mumbled out of the blue, catching his attention in a second.

“You didn’t just come here to bother me?”

“You’re the worst lawyer I’ve ever met,” you spoke rudely, noticing Daniel’s face drop. “Why don’t you get the poor guys a new attorney, huh? You stand no chance anyway, you’re too afraid.”

“You still haven’t taken the time to get to know me, so I don’t think that you have any rights to go around telling me what to do, Commander,” the boldness of his tone matched yours as he sat on the couch, still denying the urge to look up at you, gauge your reaction to his words. He liked to ignore you, it gave him the impression that he had some sort of power over you that drove you as far mad as you did to him. Ignorance was kind.

“Think I’m going to change my mind about you the moment I hear your childhood sob story? They can all say you’re the best damn lawyer it’s ever been their pleasure to have as an attorney, and I still wouldn’t be convinced. But go on, though, I’ll humor you for tonight. Were daddy’s expectations really that high that they scare you off to do your job correctly?”

He pursed his lips, a slight furrow between his brows again as he stared pointedly at you. His heart crashed every time you went down the family path, not fully understanding how you’d figured him out so quickly and with less effort than even Jack put into his conversations with him. “Okay, then, if you really believe all that, get me replaced, I won’t stop you. Or did you already try that with no luck? Please, spare me the psycho-babble father bullshit, though, it’s your only argument and it’s getting tiring.”

“At least I have an argument.”

“Fucking congratulations! That’s just splendid!”

“Another lawyer won’t be good enough!” you accidentally admitted on your temper. Your eyes widened at the echo in the dead silence, that grew in the apartment, after what you’d just blurted out. Daniel’s eyes softened, filled with pure bewilderment, jaw going slack. His upper front teeth were visible as he stared at you stupidly enough to have your cheeks burning the brightest shade of red. You tried to find an excuse to reason yourself, but nothing could cover up the royal bullocks you’d thrown all over yourself.

He’d never let you live that moment down.

“You frighten me. I’m involved in a situation now, in which the stakes couldn’t be higher. I’m not going to take time out to give tutorials in criminal procedure to an internal affairs schoolgirl who doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing and still has the nerve to threaten my lead.”

“I just melt when you sugar-talk me, Danny.”Daniel felt a sudden rush of heat form in the back of his neck, traveling all the way up to his face at the sound of his nickname falling out of your lips. It wasn’t even a big deal — everyone called him Danny, yet the way it sounded in his ears when you uttered it out, it felt as though someone had turned up the dial on his internal embarrassment thermostat to maximum, and now he was sure he was ready to burst at any moment. The awkwardness of the moment had both of you completely mute, blankly finding random things in his house to interestingly stare at, as if they were suddenly very important. “Anyway, I think you know exactly how to win. They need you.”

A dumbstruck smile lightened up his face.

“You really think so?”

“Do you have something to drink?” you dodged the question, knowing that you’d revealed too much of your genuine feelings about him. Of course you admired him, how could you not?

“Yeah — Yeah! Something to drink, yes, just a second, let me see what’s in the fridge,” he exclaimed, inexplicably jumpy as he practically flew to the fridge. The corners of your lips turned upwards, enjoying the way he struggled to roam through the drinks and food, some things falling over in his attempt to search in the back. When he finally approached you, he was proudly holding a small bottle with a yellow Yoo-hoo tag on it.

You sighed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s chocolate milk, you’ll love it.”

What the hell, you thought, taking the drink from him as he handed it over to you with a warm smile. Your face was filled with disgust, almost hollering at the smell. When you let a few drops touch your lips, you coughed dramatically and shook your head in denial of what you’d just drank, placing the bottle back on the table.

“That’s the most foul thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Wait until you try my cooking. I usually save that card until the fourth or fifth date, though,” Daniel smirked, eyes gleaming under the bright yellow light of his living room. He looks so dumb, how is this man a navy lawyer? you questioned yourself.

“Explains why you’re single, then.”

“Maybe I’m just waiting for someone.”

“Is it Jack Ross? ‘Cause I think he likes you back, you should totally make a move,” you teased him.

“Maybe said someone is annoying me as we talk.”

“Come on, Danny, can’t take a joke?”

He didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and twirled his bat on the ground, while pacing around the coffee table. “Can I ask you something personal?” he asked out of the blue, causing a pit of anxiety to form into your stomach.

“I suppose you’ll ask even if I refuse.”

“Look at you, you’re finally getting to know me.”

“Shoot, Kaffee.”

“What made you become a lawyer for the Navy?”

Your expression changed, now fully confused. You wondered how he’d possibly come up with that question all of sudden — was he doing some sort of research on you, get you exposed and out of his lead case so that you wouldn’t annoy him anymore with your constant complaining? Or was it more just Daniel being… well, Daniel and randomly coming up with the most out of context questions and things to discuss about?

“They wouldn’t let me fly the planes,” you simply gave and he tsk’ed with a dramatic head shake.

“Pegged you for the one that never gave up. You are becoming less of a role model on Junior Lieutenant Kaffee now, Commander. You’re like seven of the strangest women I’ve ever met.”

“That’s rich of you to say,” you added a little too quickly and loudly for your liking, hating how you were always so eager to defend yourself in situations that didn’t ask for it. “I’m the girl guys like you hated in sixth grade.”

Daniel’s eyes softened as he hesitantly took a seat next to you. “You’re wrong,” he muttered through his lips, looking down at his entwined fingers before exhaling exhaustively. “You’re the girl guys like me pulled the pigtails of at minor interactions just because they were too afraid of letting her know how they really felt about her.”

A pause. Silence built up in the room as Daniel kept looking down on his lap, eyes closed as if he was hoping for something, as if he was scared that the moment he’d open them, you’d be gone, because he’d screwed everything up again. But you were still there when he eventually decided to look over at you, staring blankly at him with no emotion whatsoever. He despised the fact that he couldn’t read you, hated the thought of not knowing exactly what went through your mind during that moment; it caused him too much anxiety, plus, with his little experience with girls, he’d never lived anything similar. They were all so chattery and urgent to fuck him that they didn’t hold anything back… and then, there was you.

You, who Daniel didn’t know how to feel about.

And suddenly, he couldn’t stand — bare — the fact that you’d been staring at him with so much to say, all that visible through your glassy eyes, and it was killing him, causing his stomach to flip, because he was ridiculously unaware about whether he did the right thing to reveal so much with that metaphor, or if he’d just ruined every aspect of professionalism between you.

“Kaffee?”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his voice worn out, shaky as if he was about to break down right there in front of you. Your lack of response made his heart feel tight. “I’m not going to reassign Dawson and Downey to another lawyer, by the way. Neither will you ever be able to replace me, because I’m going to stick here.”

You instantly warmed up. For the first time, his confidence gave you that slight ounce of reassurance that you needed to get, put the colour back in your eyes as you grinned proudly at him, not caring about the so though Commander title you’d been given. “What made you change your mind?”

“Not you,” he replied, reciprocating the calmness and brightness of your face. “Just… don’t wear that perfume, it wrecks my concentration.”

“Really?” you asked in awe. Daniel just smiled. You noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he inhaled the courage to say something, then…

“This might be the wrong time to ask this, but would you really hate the idea of me taking y—”

“I am so sorry,” Sam interrupted, barging into Daniel’s apartment while panting, struggling to take his coat off as he put a hand over his chest. “I had to take care of my daughter, she got sick and my wife wasn’t home, I — Oh, I walked into something there, didn’t I?”

You think? Daniel mutely thought of saying to his friend, so mad inside as he glared at him with burning passion to slam the door shut into his face and returning to the conversation he was having with you less than twenty seconds ago.

“I need to go, anyway, I promised the Marines that I would visit them and help them prepare for the court. I’ll see you tomorrow, Danny. Bye, Sam,” you dismissed them, getting up from the couch and waving goodbye to the two of them as you walked outside with a small smile.

“No wait!” Daniel called, but it was already too late. “What the fuck, Sam?! You know something called knocking on the fucking door?”

Sam didn’t reply, simply because he was too busy explaining the story of why he thought he wouldn’t make it to the case preparation as he cleaned Daniel’s living room. He realised that his friend was paying no attention to him at all, only staring at the almost full Yoo-hoo bottle you’d left on the table from earlier, and that was all Sam needed to know exactly why he was being ignored. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

Daniel never replied.

───

“Hi!” he greeted you with the following day, head peaking in your office through the half closed door. He looked dumb, his oversized blue varsity jacket covering most of his palms as he held onto the door with a wide grin, eyes sparkling. You couldn’t understand his excitement.

“Hey,” the reply was dry and held back.

“I think we might actually have just enough evidence to prove Dawson and Downey innocent, all thanks to you,” he claimed happily, allowing himself fully into your office. You gave him a weird look but didn’t question anything, instead ignored him as you organized the discarded papers on your desk into folders. Daniel’s face dropped at your lack of enthusiasm for him, worry written all over his face as he quickly began fiddling again.

“That’s quite literally my job, Daniel.”

“Did I do something to offend you?” His heart was racing now, mind stuck in the loop of any words that he could’ve said to cause your so indifferent reaction. “You’re giving me the cold shoulder. I thought we moved past that.”

“It was just one conversation about the case. It’s not like we’re expected to act like friends after not bickering for a total of five minutes.” Oh. Daniel’s stomach was tied into knots, he felt as though he’d been kicked in the crotch with the worst possible amount of strength. His face was paled, eyes growing blurry as he nodded at your statement, not finding himself strong enough to say anything back to you, and instead choosing to walk out with his last pieces of remaining dignity.

He thought you might had started liking him. Even a little, he didn’t care about the numbers.

Daniel got easily emotionally influenced, though, and his performance at the court was screwed. He wouldn’t communicate with either you or Sam, interrogating the men on the stand with such frustration that the jury sighed every five seconds. You pinched the bridge of your nose and tightened your fingers into fists, crumbling a paper in front of you as Sam touched your shoulder in a way of telling you to calm down.

But how could you? You were losing the case already and it hadn’t even been a day. What is he doing? you thought, relentlessly questioning his choice of tone and movements. You had no idea how you restrained yourself from slapping him against the wall when he returned to the desk, hands shoved into his pockets as he set his jaw.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you whispered yelled at him, but he didn’t even bother to look at you. When the judge dismissed everyone, Daniel walked away as if nothing had happened. Your head was going to explode, you decided, as you followed him, high heels slamming against the floor. You’d strangle the soul out of him, who would even defend you? Sam followed silently, keeping it low-key as he whispered at you not to create any more trouble. Daniel was seemingly upset and at the back of your mind, you wondered if the reason was the fact that you’d neglected him less than an hour ago back in your office. You felt like you should’ve kept that for yourself and tell him later eventually, when the trial would be over. “Do you have any idea why he’s like this?” you turned to the other attorney.

“Why do you think?” was the only thing he left you with, his words ringing in your head as your pace quickened unnecessarily faster than expected. Your breath was coming in short, eyes stinging as you repeatedly called for Daniel’s name in the corridors without any response.

He was proving you right by all this.

All your doubts and fears about him being unable to thoroughly handle the case were bursting one by one, getting huger and huger until you’d start breaking down in a corner on his behalf. You hated Daniel Kaffee more than any other person.

“Daniel, fucking stop!” you shouted and he finally stilled. Your immediate instinct was to take a break from the intense walking, hand over your chest as you tried to regain your balance.

“Maybe you should’ve asked for them to keep me out,” was all he said before disappearing outside. He was mad, but mostly exhausted with everything, especially overwhelmed by you. He was done trying; finished with the case, finished the way you treated him — how one day you loved him and the next day you pretended he wasn’t even there, as if he didn’t exist. And he was fine with that, you didn’t want him, he could live.

But you gave him false hope, or so he thought.

“Lieutenant!” he heard you yell again, your pants mixed with the sound of your heels against the hallway floor. He decided not to turn around, didn’t want to hear anything that you had to say. “Lieutenant Kaffee!” And suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks, letting out a breath as he slammed his arms against his sides in defeat.

“What? What do you want from me?” he asked with frustration, voice raspy and shaky as he firmly loosened the black tie that felt like it was cutting the air out of his lungs, suit all messed up and wrinkly from fighting it off his body. He felt heavy, bothered, didn’t want to exist anymore.

“What do you mean what?” you asked with fragility, and it was the first time he’d ever heard you speak a sentence so softly and fearfully.

“I mean what is it?”

“I wanted to say that you did quite well in there, even though it was your first time and that—”

“Please — don’t even — don’t even start…” he cut you off mid-word, eyes squinting close as he tried not to look at you, afraid that just one glance at your face would be enough for him to bend.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re giving me mixed signals!” he abruptly bursted, making you jump a little. You’d never heard him raise his voice like that before, despite the fact that you’d been into countless bickers before with him. No, there was something different this time, something more into it.

“What?”

“You’re — you’re confusing the shit out of me! One day you fucking hate me and the other you get so nice with me that it almost makes me believe that maybe, just maybe, I could have a chance with you… Start things over. And then you go back to day one — and no one has ever… I feel like one day I’m saving you from a burning building and the next I’m throwing you to the sharks, this — this is exactly how it is with us and it’s all your fucking fault! I’ve tried so hard with you, to make myself worthy, to catch your attention, to make you realise that I don’t think I’ve never admired a person more than you in my life before… and you keep throwing everything away! And I’m fine with that, but for the name of love, stop giving me hope that one day maybe you’ll actually start liking me.”

His monologue left you speechless, every word, every breath engraved and buzzing into your troubled brain as he walked away, this time without being stopped by anyone. Daniel felt like rubbish. On one hand, he felt relieved for letting the thoughts that had been eating him alive out, but on the other he felt even heavier. He knew he’d risked so much for speaking up, but the final straw had been put into his overfilled glass.

For a short moment, he considered turning back.

Perhaps you’d have something to say to him, but that was exactly what he dreaded. The more he’d spend looking at you, waiting for an answer or even the slightest reaction, the more he’d want to listen to what you’d have to say to him, and that was cautionary for his condition. Obviously, he’d fallen for you along the line. You’d screwed him over so deeply that he didn’t know where to grasp at to save himself from losing the grip he had by the end of the cliff. No, he decided, if you wanted him half as bad as he wanted you, you’d go after him, search for him, ask people, show that you cared, even if the amount wasn’t a great deal.

It was insignificant to him, if you cared about him as much as he did for you, he just wanted you to care. Even as a companion, or a respected fellow attorney. You didn’t follow him, though, and the sad part was that he wasn’t even surprised. Of course you had nothing to say to him, you’d made that very clear by wanting him so badly off the case that you were prepared to move the sky and earth just to earn the satisfaction of watching him be defeated. And if you so utterly needed him uninvolved, why did you give him motivation not to quit? Why did you keep pushing him?

Every ounce of feeling that he had for you was a big, unanswered why that tortured him inside.

Daniel wished he could erase from your memory what he’d just confessed. Make you forget all about it, have you look at him with the same hateful eye that you always did. Because now, you’d look at him with pity, scared of what to say to him (he’d revealed way too much and he was only just realising it) — gosh, he’d ruined it. He was so exhausted, both mentally and physically.

Ethic violations were involved in the mess, as well, because of course they would be. A sexual relationship with a fellow counsel in the middle of a trial? What was he thinking? As if you even wanted him breathing near you in the first place.

───

It had only been three, going to four hours, ever since Daniel got his heart crashed, made a fool of himself not only in the courtroom, but also in front of you. For him, it felt like days, even a full week. His only company was a bottle of Jack Daniel’s that he’d almost finished, stuffing it in his coat’s large pockets as he walked back home.

This was how you felt about him. You hated him.

And he’d have to make amends with that, but not without the encouragement of cheap alcohol pouring into his system. Thank god for Ross, who always bought him all the booze he needed.

You, on the other hand, had wasted all of your breath trying to look for Daniel everywhere. It’d almost been an hour and you were at the hands of Sam, trying to think about all the possible locations that his friend could be at. You searched for him at the O Club, down at the basketball court, even his own apartment, but he was nowhere to be found. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest, caught in your throat as you walked back to his neighborhood, opting to give his apartment another try. It’d been more than thirty minutes ever since you first went, maybe he’d returned by now. Your hands were shaking as you brought a loosely balled up fist to the surface of the door, hesitantly knocking on it once, twice — then heard steps from inside.

“Go away.”

Your entire body eased momentarily at the sound of his voice. Good, he wasn’t dead. His tone was cold and distant, nevertheless, and you knew that he was in no mood for seeing or even speaking to you after how you’d behaved during his speech, or even earlier, during the trial. Your mouth went dry at the first attempt of speaking back to him.

“Danny—”

“You’ve got no place to call me that.”

Oh. So, you’d really broken him.

“Daniel,” you corrected yourself halfheartedly, your hands rubbing up and down against the sides of your outer thighs, “can you let me in?”

“No.”

Your face dropped. You weren’t used to Daniel being so… you didn’t even know how exactly to describe it. The relationship between the two of you hadn’t started on a brilliant basis, neither did it get any better throughout all the time, but even though he didn’t seem to like you very much, he’d always been open for you, in some sort of way that your mind still struggled to comprehend.

“Daniel, please,” you begged, stepping back, surprised when his door creaked open just an inch to reveal his heavy lidded, blurry eyes.

“Do you have anything to say to me about the case? Otherwise, get moving, Commander.”

“Did you… Are you drunk?” you found yourself asking worriedly, ignoring his previous question.

“Why do you care, huh? Last time I checked, you didn’t give two shits about me!” he yelled, slamming the door back shut into your face, causing you to flinch. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“So this is it?”

Daniel swore he was only a second away from exploding, your question sending him over the edge as he chuckled in frustration, not knowing whether you asked what you asked simply to piss him off, or if you were genuinely placing an inquiry that you had been unclear about.

“This is what? Are you fucking with me?”

“You’ve hated me ever since you stepped into my office. You always did, say it. Just say that you hate me, you can’t stand me anymore, come on. Or is this just for Sam’s ears? That you wished I’d taken you out of the case just so you wouldn’t have to listen to my voice any longer. Come on, Kaffee, that’s all you’ve got to say.”

Daniel backed away in disbelief, then made you silently wince as he punched hard against the door, the sound of his skin hitting the processes wood ringing in faint echoes inside your eardrums. You’d driven him out of control.

“Me? Hate you? How could you possibly say such a thing — I — I…” Daniel wasn’t sure how to continue the sentence. There were too options and both of them would have a negative impact upon your relationship with each other and case.

One; he could let his tipsy mind ramble on and on about how you hadn’t once left his mind ever since he saw you for the first time, that he’d never felt so intimidated by anyone, never had fallen into such a deep awe of someone’s passion and ability to pursue their goals in life. That he wished he could possess the one thirds of your courage and determination, because you were honestly scared of nothing, got all the questions you wanted answered within a heartbeat. You didn’t back down in any occasion, you were your own person and Daniel had fallen so deeply in love with everything that you so proudly owned in your character that he thought he was a lost card.

Two; he could never continue the sentence, trail off and stay completely silent, see if you had anything to reply to him — and of course, he opted for the safest option, which was the second one. He was too scared of wearing his heart on his sleeve, knowing that you’d break it anyway.

“The fact that you’re so fucking scared of being a lawyer is beyond me. You’re in the Navy for crying out loud, get a hold of yourself,” was all you muttered in response, leaning against his door, completely unaware of the fact that he was also in the same position, that if the door disappeared in thin air that very moment, you’d fall on top of him with your mouth so dangerously close to his own that he’d pass out (and so would you, in some extent.)

Daniel’s every muscle was so tightly contracted, that he believed they’d crash altogether without any warning if he spent one more minute, forehead pressed against the door, knowing damn well that you were still outside, that you breathed just as heavily as he did, that he’d tied himself to the tracks, ready to be run over.

He knew that whatever was happening in that moment would reek of runny makeup and salty tears, sweat of agony running down the faces of two attorneys, bewildered and scorned as they fell into silence in preference of doing what they’d studied in law school for four years; defend their own selves, master the words. The ability of speaking had died down your throats near the day you chose bitterness over respect for each other.

Daniel averted his eyes to the ground, mustered all the courage he could possibly get and loosened his fingers in his fist. He called your name once, twice, but no reply ever came back. He knew you’d left, could understand it by the way he peaked through the glass hole in his door and saw that no one was there. His logic screamed at him to stay where he was, crash in the couch, close his eyes and sleep, forget about the case, forget about you, the conversations, the feelings, the tension, everything. Take down the entire Jack Daniel’s bottle and lean into the cushions without any further thinking.

Thank God that Daniel hated logical reasoning.

His door flew open as he hurried outside, not caring about his half unbuttoned dress shirt and blowsy uniform. It had been raining for hours now, the steady patter of water hitting against the windows of his small apartment long since faded to a dull rush in the back of his mind. He stepped out of the building, the thick material of his coat almost getting soaked through instantly. He squinted his eyes, trying to make out how far ahead you’d gotten, the pouring rain blurring his vision as he eventually spotted you on the road.

“Commander!” he shouted, but you didn’t turn, so he called for your name instead, numerous times until your feet gave up. A piercing gust of wind shook the trees above your head, showering your already miserable frame with a fresh deluge. You wiped the water from your eyes with a wet sleeve and tucked a lock of long brunette hair that fell into your eyes behind your dampened ear.

“I don’t want to talk to you anymore,” you said with a steady voice, barely audible in the downpour. Daniel tried to catch his breath as he finally reached you, looking like he was about to either melt along with the rain, or simply vanish.

“No, I can’t accept that. We — We braved extraordinary circumstances to get over here. You need to give me one chance,” he begged, but you kept walking, tired of his mediocre speeches and dramatic overreactions everywhere possibly imaginable. You wanted facts, wanted to listen to him fully, crystal clearly admit what he had to say. Not dance around it like he’d catch on fire. “Hey, I’m talking to you! Fucking listen to me!”

“Fuck off, Lieutenant Kaffee!” you screamed back, not caring about the fact that the rain would probably give you a deadly cold the following day, if not kill you by throwing you off at a very abrupt road pit. Daniel was soaked, hair sticking to his forehead and still very drunk. He felt embarrassed of how high pitched his voice got whenever he yelled from the top of his lungs, almost sounding like a complaining kid at the supermarket, who wouldn’t get the sweets he wanted from the counter while waiting to pay.

He needed answers. Did you even like him?

“You’re saying I’m scared and you can’t even face how you feel!” he shouted catching you off guard. “You can’t even look at me without lying.” Your blood was boiling into your veins as you gave him that chance, which he so desperately wanted, to explain himself to you, to see what he had to say.

“What did you just say?”

Daniel came closer, hands shaking from the temper building within him, looking pathetic as his hair dripped along with the rain down his face.

“You say I’m scared, but you’re terrified. At least I’ve shown you how I feel about you. I give myself away, because I can’t hold back everything that goes into my head the second you walk in it. I’m too weak to defend myself when it comes to you — look at me, you make me forget how to do my job — and I’m one of the most qualified lawyers out there, according to the Navy.”

“What are you talking about? You haven’t even once told me anything about how you feel about me. I’ve overheard you say to Sam that you hate me, that you wish you couldn’t hear my voice. What the fuck were you on about, huh, Kaffee?”

Daniel threw his hands and looked up, gulping down his worn out feelings as he tried to collect himself from breaking down in front of you, yet once again. “You know what Sam said to me when I kept telling him all that stuff about you?”

“I don’t care about what he said to you,” you scoffed in annoyance, ready to leave again, when you heard the words fly out of his mouth.

“That I’m in love with you!”

Daniel ached to prove that you were the scared one in this, breath wasted as he summoned every single ounce of remaining strength he had to grab you by the arm and yank you close to him, crashing his lips into yours forcefully. He never imagined the first time he’d get to kiss you to be that way. His body was trembling in fear (and because of the weather), heart hammering in the most literal way possible. The kiss barely lasted, seeing as you pushed him away almost instantly.

He felt crashed into millions of pieces, exploding like they did in the cartoons. He’d gathered so much courage to finally kiss you, and there you were, looking at him like he’d committed some sort of unbelievable crime, like he’d offended your honour. Daniel felt like an idiot; he’d ruined everything even worse. Had he really misinterpreted every look, every conversation, every fight? He wanted to cry, so he did. His tears ran down his salty cheeks, mixing with the rain, which allowed him to sob as hard as he needed to, not caring whether it made him look more pathetic and weak than he already was.

Who was going to see anyway?

You weren’t saying a word and Daniel was sure that another heartbeat was all it would take for the organ to crawl up inside his throat and hurl out, break; rip in two. He’d said his biggest fear, had actually put the exact words in it, then proceeded to throw an action. And he was destroyed, not because you didn’t kiss him back or because you pushed him away, but because you had chosen the mute torture of silence.

“…What else do I have to do to prove to you that I’m so fucking head over heels for you that I can’t possibly concentrate on anything else? I might lose the case and make a fool of myself, because you make me not think,” he tried again, this time with a fragile and weak voice. He honestly had no idea what more he could do to convince you about his feelings, about how nuts you drove him with your attitude and insane personality.

But again, you opted not to say anything. Instead, you quickly took a few steps forward, grabbed him by the ends of the collar of his long, black coat and pulled him into you, mouth capturing his own swiftly as you tilted your head to the side, deepening the kiss. Daniel was paralyzed for a short second, not knowing if he’d been struck by some sort of lightning that had killed him and brought him to a different reality, or whether you kissing him was an actual, real, skin to skin thing.

Stupidly enough, he allowed his lips to turn upwards into a broadening smile, responding with such enthusiasm, even though he was ridiculously taken aback by your choice of action. It took him a minute to regain his composure, the storm — hell, the entire world — around you feeling meaningless as his hands laced with yours, causing your grip on him to relax a little.

Daniel was falling fast, faster than ever, craving more of your scent and the feel of you pressed closer and tighter to him, the taste of alcohol mixing along with the buds of your mouth, unsure how this whole story had even began for him.

But his stupid, stupid lungs had to find air, and he was forced to separate from you with the feeling of gravity being torn out of his core. You’d disconnected your hands from his (with another pitiful drop in his stomach) so you could run them through his disheveled, wet hair, and his eyes fluttered close at the touch. You looked up at him with an emotion that neither of you could really find the words to explain, and Daniel wanted to kiss you again, heat rising to his face, forming a what he thought could be a permanent blush as his heart nearly leapt out of his chest.

“I’m so wet,” you realised out loud with a dumb smile, trying to hold back a giggle as you watched him bemusedly, eyes glowing brightly at the way he looked at you with such confusion, a bulge straining into his damp uniform pants.

“What — wha… what?” his voice was high pitched and shaky as he cleared his throat. “Oh! Shit — the rain, let’s — let’s get you inside!” He was so flustered and hard, just from one kiss, and he stuttered in every word he spoke. He took his coat off and covered your head with it as he grabbed you by the hand, hurrying back to his apartment.

When you went inside, you acted all unbothered, like nothing had even happened just a moment ago, and it was killing Daniel, because he was terrified of you throwing him away once again. He helped you to the couch, then rushed into his bedroom, pulling out every piece of clothing that he had in the wardrobe with such anticipation as he anxiously roamed through the selves to find blankets to offer you, get you dry from the rain.

“Okay, this is all I have. Do you prefer the pink or the... what color is this — orange? Coral? Erm, which one—” he was getting tongue tied and you found it adorable, taking both blankets off his hands as he stared at us, mesmerised. You looked over your shoulder, as if he was looking through you, then returned your gaze at him, getting nervous. “I’ll — I’m going to make coffee!”

You heard him smack his forehead as he went in the kitchen and grinned like a child. “Daniel?” you called from the living room with a slight chuckle.

“Yeah?”

“It was coral, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“The blanket. It was coral. Can I change my clothes? I’m getting your couch wet,” you asked.

“Sure! Closet’s in the left.”

You got up, wrapped in the blankets as you walked into his closet, shamelessly going through all of his ridiculous, childish, cheap shirts that you so deeply hated (loved). You found a black shirt, which you threw over your body as you picked a checkered shirt to put on as well, feeling a little lump from the chest pocket. You went through it and pulled out an unused condom, cheeks turning pink as you held out the object and went to the kitchen, proudly exposing it in your hand.

“Is this a gift?” you questioned, laughing wholeheartedly when you noticed Daniel’s cheeks burn red in earth swallowing embarrassment.

“Oh… uhm,” he snatched the condom off you, “you’re wearing my special shirt.”

“Your what?”

“My special shirt. It’s for… good luck… for when I go to baseball games and everything. Or — Or dates. Nothing important, no need to make a great deal out of it.” He felt dead inside, still very confused by the fact that you still hadn’t made the smallest reference to the kiss you’d shared. Was it just a thing that occurred due to the heat of the moment? It broke him just to think so, because for a split minute, he gave himself the permission to picture the two of you together, as an actual couple in love. Was he supposed to bring it up first? Were you waiting for him?

Daniel felt like a jerk, unintentionally pouting.

“Please,” you mumbled. Please stop being pathetic, I really like you too. “Danny?”

“It’s still raining. You can stay… I mean, if you want to, of course.” And gosh, both of you were about to melt, saying nothing, just staring at each other with millions of words being exchanged just through the different kinds of gleams in your eyes. You fucking hated Daniel Kaffee so much.

“Danny?” you repeated and he urgently shook his head, letting you know that you could keep going with the question. You smiled warmly, wrapping your arms gently around his neck, then, “I’d love to stay overnight. Oh, and you’re like seven of the strangest men I’ve ever met.”

FIN.

for your information, me and @honeymvnt wrote this together. might be one of the best things i’ve ever had the chance to write, ilysfm lia 🫵🏼🎀

[asm5129]

…after the civil war, a few key mistakes were made.

the south’s economy was destroyed because it was reliant on slave labor, and never really fully recovered. And suffering breeds resentment.

On top of this, no one *wants* to believe their ancestors fought for something objectively evil. So the states rights narrative was appealing.

And in trying to heal the divide in America, many confederate leaders were not granted simply mercy in the form of a pardon, but actively given power once more.

And while slavery was dead (outside of prisons, anyway), black Americans were still considered inferior. The Reconciliation era included tremendous violence against black Americans.

In many ways white Americans healed through white supremacy.

Essentially, concessions were made to heal the divide that ultimately failed to address the problem that caused the war in the first place—whether anyone other than white men were included in the phrase “all men are created equal”.

Healing division inevitably includes concessions and compromise, but the way it was done in the aftermath of the civil war was fundamentally flawed because it treated a problem that still existed as if it had been solved. When you let racists back in power, they will do more racist things, whether or not the institution of slavery for African Americans still exists.

When we try to heal from where this country is now, we must learn from that history. People in the south don’t deserve for people to see them get hit by a deadly hurricane and hand wave it away as “they got what they voted for”, but neither should we allow those who have lead red states down the path of fascism have a say in what healing looks like.

In order to reconcile with one another, we have to be willing to sit down and have conversations with one another like people. There will be people who are not willing to do that, or who will try to take advantage of it, and we can prepare for that.

But we do need to be able to coexist.

We can start with the basics. Do people have enough stability? Can they afford food? Do they have support when they need it?

And then we can talk to them about what they need to address that.

It’s telling that the main issue people voted for Trump for was the economy. People are suffering, and even though Kamala’s economic proposal was very good she didn’t always do the best job explaining it, especially for those who would need it most who are often not super educated. And ultimately it wasn’t enough of a change, and what’s more, it asked people to be patient and not angry. Trump is able to gain the support he has because he taps into deep suffering and anger and gives it a target.

Kamala didn’t give legitimacy to that anger the way they needed.

these are my thoughts on healing the division in America, i suppose. I hope you find them interesting.

**Btw, these thoughts are mainly informed by information from the documentary *Civil War (or Who Do We Think We Are)* and the book *Democracy Awakening* by Heather Cox Richardson, both of which I highly recommend to help grasp a deeper understanding of why America is where it is today.

[qsycomplainsalot]

Lindybeige is Either an Idiot or an Asshole

Most Likely Both

--There could be more flattering ways to put it, but he's never once given us that favor so why should I. His videos are wildly speculative and often based in cherry-picked British sources, when they come with any sources at all - see his masturbatory piece about the Bren vs the “Spandau”.

--There are two videos that I absolutely loathe at the edges of my youtube recommendations, both just filled to the brim with misinformation and logical contrivances. Videos that neckbeards will endlessly quote at me without question, taking a frustratingly long amount of time to untangle by which point they'd have usually lost interest already. The first one is Shadiversity's video about boob armor, the other is Lindybeige's video about the French Resistance.

--This video will have you believe that the French Resistance on its own did nothing of worth, based in great part on the fact that De Gaulle glamorized its contribution to the war for political status. I cannot stress this enough, just because De Gaulle used the general idea of the Resistance to smooth over a lot of Vichy war crimes and restore national unity does not mean the Resistance did not exist as a capable fighting force. --The very first more specific argument he offers to support his view -if you ignore “ME AND ME PA FOUND THAT VERY FONNY”- is that most of the French armor was American-made and provided through the lend-lease policy, making French people less deserving of credit in winning World War 2. I assume that in his mind that would diminish the contribution of the French Resistance to war efforts, even though these tanks and armored fighting vehicles were used by the Free French Army, not the Resistance at any point of its existence, making the point moot while also conveniently ignoring that the United Kingdom received ten times the aid France did through that same program.

--The image is from War Thunder because it makes for a better glamor shot than having it stand behind a museum fence or in black and white.

--His next argument implies that De Gaulle was "allowed" to walk in the liberated Paris ahead of Allied troops to give a speech that solidified the myth of the Resistance I mentioned. Again, in this passing, deceptive comment, Lindybeige implies that De Gaulle walked in after the fact and that Allied forces did the heavy lifting, only allowing him to do his speech a their convenience. Even a cursory amount of research will tell you that Paris was in fact liberated by the FFI, the Parisian people themselves and Leclerc’s 2nd Armored Division composed of Metropolitan and Colonial French with Spanish elements, supported only on the very last day by the US 4th Infantry Division and a special British unit sent to gather intelligence. --Following this, he quotes the speech De Gaulle delivered in front of the town hall the day the German garrison surrendered, but cuts it short of the part in said speech mentioning “the help of our dear and admirable Allies” to then call De Gaulle ungrateful, which I have a hard time believing could be anything but intentionally deceptive. He then goes on to claim that the French Resistance was not organized by De Gaulle but by the British, justifying the ludicrous claim with 'they didn’t tell him because French intelligence services were bad and would have leaked all of it’. This is of course ignoring the fact that De Gaulle had personally sent Jean Moulin back to France for the exact purpose of organizing the five big Resistance movements into one organization, which he did, creating the Council for National Resistance that played a major role in the liberation of Paris. How the British would have any hand in this may be explained by his further comments, where he goes on to say that agents of the organization preceding the MI6 had been infiltrated in the Resistance to organize it, which begs the question of who's responsible for it being a non-effective combat force if it had been the case. He then gives us a voice in a sarcastic tone by saying, “of course you and your British bias would say that !” but does not really address it. Because honestly yeah, you and your British bias would say that.

--After quickly rambling that there were too many people in France and not enough bushes for all people to join the Resistance, which I have to admit is an extremely pointed and pertinent thing to say in a video downplaying the efforts and suffering of thousands of people fighting back against Nazi occupation under constant threat of torture and execution if caught, he mentions that the German forced labor system had severely depleted France’s manpower of fighting age. He says that by 1944, only teenagers and decrepit middle aged men were left to fight in the Resistance, to the great disappointment of the British agents he mentioned earlier. According to him, this meant France lacked the manpower and the communication capability required to pull the Resistance off, which is again contradicted by the actions of Jean Moulin, who had seemingly managed to access both before his death.

--There are a few problems with that argument. The Service de Travail Obligatoire, STO for short, was a system put in place by Vichy France to supply Germany with civilian manpower to make up for their own shortfalls due to the Eastern front. Because Vichy had negotiated a relative independence compared to other occupied country, its own government was responsible for the order, although it was in almost every point similar to forced labor orders in Denmark or the Netherlands. Now the STO did deprive France of over six hundred thousand young men, many of them skilled workers. However as an incentive given by the Nazis, every three forced laborer sent to Germany would lead to the release of one French POW, meaning that as far as manpower was concerned, France pretty much lost only four hundred thousand men and received qualified military personnel for its trouble. Not only is it hardly the manpower drain pictured by Lindybeige, it also ignores that many of these forced laborers, my grandfather included, immediately skipped work and joined either the Resistance or Allied military regulars after operation Overlord, as they were not as tightly surveilled as POWs and minorities in concentration/death camps. It also bears mentioning that it was teenagers, dismissed by Lindybeige as a negligible quantity, that acted as reconnaissance troops for the Free French using their motorbikes to scout and guide the way to the German Kommandantur. In any case, most members of the FFI integrated the regular French army after the liberation of Paris, meaning they were definitely of fighting age. Of course that whole argument is dropped as soon as he brings in British involvement, at which point he finally points out how the Resistance disabled most of the railway network and stopped the famously lightning-fast German army from facing the Allied invasion properly. For their role in this sabotage, a hundred fifty Resistance members working for the French national railway company were shot and another five hundred deported.

--To put it simply, Lindybeige dismisses the Resistance as a useless, wasteful and infighting group of functional morons, while every successful operation they carried out, every display of good mobility and coordination is attributed to British uniformed soldiers overseeing it. In reality most of that effort was done by either agents of the French government in exile or the Allied command under Eisenhower, with no account mentioning any significant autonomous British involvement which stands to reason as De Gaulle and Churchill could not stand one another. In fact Lindybeige tries to pass off operation Jedburgh as a purely British operation while it was specifically a joint one with American, British, French, Belgian and Dutch operatives all along the Atlantic coast.

--The next part is baffling. Lindybeige points at the Allies stopping their shipments of weapons to the French Resistance after July 44 and justifies it by saying the various cells were fighting each other and were uncoordinated. Thank god the Brits stopped sending arms or there would have been a civil war between these silly French Resistance members. Of course what happened in August was the liberation of Paris followed by the integration of the FFI into the new French army, which would go on to liberate the rest of the country. But Lindybeige pushes this civil war angle pretty hard, calling at this point of the video both Vichy France and the Resistance to be pro French in a way and underlining the conflicts between the two as a reason why the weapon shipments stopped coming, with examples such as Resistance members exacting reprisals against Nazi collaborators, which is a completely moot point because Vichy France and collaborators had nothing to do with the Resistance and were in fact, at this point of time, recognized as the enemy by all Allied forces, meaning acts of resistance against them would in no way prompt Allied command to stop supporting the French Resistance. Lindybeige goes so far as to say that the OSS and British secret service stopping the weapon shipments in August 1944 legitimately prevented an outright civil war between the different cells of the French Resistance, which was in actuality pretty unified in its support to De Gaulle at this point thanks to the efforts of Jean Moulin as discussed previously. This hardly gels with the events following August 1944, where the members of the Resistance and FFI were enlisted in the Free French Army and were therefore issued American military equipment and training to function as regular troops. Now stop me if I'm wrong but it appears that in Lindybeige's mind all French people were ready to tear each other apart until the British stopped sending them pipe guns, after which the Americans sent them tanks which obviously disabled their ability to start a civil war.

--Two French colonial soldiers using a blend of Allied gear during the winter of 1944-45. They are presumably thinking of killing each other.

--Much like the Phantom Menace review this is addressing a piece of media were essentially everything is wrong, hence the length of this post. Lindybeige has obviously researched the topic to great length, then ignored half of it to record 17mn of vague, dismissive and unsubstantiated claim that each take an equal amount of time to debunk. He present the facts as if everything that happened on British soil was under British orders so as to make the French Resistance only effective on their accord, all the while disregarding the French government in exile and slandering the efforts of French people but also inadvertently of the Americans. It is my honest belief that this sad excuse of an historian is either profoundly lacking in literacy or actively trying to justify his xenophobia by bending WW2 historiography around his bias, and whatever it may be he should be deplatformed to avoid spreading more harmful and disrespectful lies about a group of brave men and women who fought to liberate their country from fascism.

[imawreck]

Recruit

Pairing: David "Deacon" Kay x Original Character

Summary: Based in Season 2, S.W.A.T. is bringing in both old and new recruits as they recover from budget cuts. Among those new recruits, is Lily Blake. With her training and experience, she poses potential for the team. Unfortunately, not everyone is willing to overlook her spontaneous nature, or untraditional joining to S.W.A.T.

Author's Note: The first few parts to this fic will be incorporating the character into the team, but there is an eventual Deacon x OC pairing. It's a slow burn fic, so be patient!

Warnings: Cursing, violence, angst, fluff, team drama, radio communications and time skips are sometimes italicized

Word Count: 1,218

"20-squad, round up and meet me in the conference room in five." Commander Hicks' voice echoes from down the hall, reaching the ears of the team. They hustle into the room, brows furrowed and voices low and curious.

Hicks looks them over with his brows drawn as he waits for them to quiet down. "I want to inform you all of a transfer happening in this division. The L.A.P.D. is recovering from the budget cuts, and in turn, is increasing personnel again. I have hand selected one of these new recruits for your squad."

Hicks seems to sense their unasked questions, and he closes his eyes as their voices rise.

"Hicks, when did we start taking officers that haven't completed the academy?"

"Yeah," Luca chimes in, "a spot on S.W.A.T. has to be earned like all the rest of us!"

20-squad mumbles their agreement and Hicks raises a hand to silence them. "This officer is highly recommended with great marks, not to mention a skillset that this team would really benefit from. This is not up for debate. New recruits arrive tomorrow, I suggest you make peace with it now."

5:15 A.M. Blake-

I shuffle my feet, throwing my weight into the bag as my fist makes contact with a soft thump. It's early morning, way too early to have as much energy as I do, but I couldn't sleep with all the excitement of today. It isn't every day someone's chosen for S.W.A.T.

A smile crawls onto my face as I take another swing, slamming my elbow into the bag in silent triumph. A door opens behind me, but I pay it no mind as I continue to wail on the bag with my mind occupied with the curiosities of the job to come.

That is, until a smiling face peers around the bag and nearly meets the blunt end of my knuckles. "Woah there, I come in peace!" He laughs, his hands raised in mock surrender.

I huff, out of breath. "Sorry, didn't notice you."

"Pretty active for this time of day, huh?" He adjusts the strap of a navy bag at his side, the silver S.W.A.T. logo catching the overhead lights.

I nod, "Couldn't sleep so I figured I'd burn some energy before the day gets too crazy."

He laughs, nodding, "I know what you mean. Names Jim Street."

He holds out his hand to me, and I'm quick to dry my palm on my towel and give it a shake while I respond with a smile. "I'm Lily Blake, it's nice to meet you."

"I haven't seen you around before. You a new recruit?" He leans against the pillar next to the bag, and I take a moment to collect myself.

"Yeah, not sure which squad I'll be put on though." I take a seat on the bench across from him and take a swig of my water. "Are you new too?"

"Oh, no, I'm a member of 20-squad. I finished my academy last year. I didn't hear they had another one." There's a pensive look in his eyes despite his friendly approach.

I shake my head, "I didn't take the academy." It's not much information, but that's all I can really give him. I'm not sure why I was picked to join S.W.A.T., but I wasn't about to tell him that.

"Well, its refreshing to see a new face around here. Even better knowing I won't be the newbie anymore." He laughs at that, "I look forward to seeing you around. Good luck on your first day!"

With a little salute, he turns on his heel and leaves me alone once again. I smile to myself, pleased that I had at least one acquaintance around here. Jim seemed nice enough.

A few hours later, the station is awake and buzzing with voices. More officers flood in, all muttering about new recruits and how happy they are that the budget cuts have finally let up. I stick to the walls, make myself scarce as the foot traffic picks up around the halls. I change, pulling on my casual blues and double checking my belt before I head out again.

"Lance Corporal Blake," someone calls out, and I'm quick to turn around.

"Sir?" I take him in, grey hair, green eyes, and a face that makes me think he hasn't smiled in thirty years. I relax as I plaster on a smile, offering my hand. "You must be Commander Hicks."

His face moves into something akin to a smile, reaffirming my assumption that he doesn't do much more than frown very often, before he nods and shakes my hand twice. "It's a pleasure to have you."

I nod, "It's an honor, sir."

Hicks places his hands on his hips, "Well, I hope you're ready for today. It'll be tough, but I think I've picked a squad that's just right for you."

My heart does a little summersault, nerves jittering, before I take a breath. "I trust your judgement, Commander."

Hicks gives a chuckle, "You ready to meet them?"

"Born ready, sir."

I follow Commander Hicks down a hallway and into a debriefing room, taking in the computer screens and tablets littering nearly every available space. Several individuals stand on the other side of the room talking amongst themselves with their arms crossed and voices low. All of them wear their casual blues, the silver S.W.A.T. emblem gracing each shirt over their left side.

These were my squad members.

"20-squad, this is your new addition. Lance Corporal Lily Blake, this is 20-squad." Hicks nods his head in their direction, and suddenly all eyes are on me.

Five men, and one woman. All various ages, and all sporting mixed expressions. None of which seem too pleased, but not entirely hostile either.

I do my best to keep up a pleasant smile, "It's a pleasure to work with you."

One of them steps forward, charming smile and caramel skin. "I'm Sergeant Harrelson, but you can call me Hondo. Great to have you on the team."

I take his hand, "I go by Blake."

"Lance Corporal, a Marine?" His smile turns upwards a little more and a bit of pride graces his face when I nod.

He steps back as another member of the team comes forward, a much more familiar face. Jim shoots me a wink, "Didn't think I'd be seeing you so soon, Newbie! You didn't tell me you'd rank above me either."

I shrug, "I didn't think it was important to say."

He shakes his head with a laugh, and steps back so the others can take their turn introducing themselves to me. Luca, who reminds me an awful lot of the stereotypical surfer type, seems displeased with my arrival. Probably due to the impromptu recruitment and the fact that I didn't take their traditional route through the academy.

The last man forward was older. Chocolate brown eyes, built in stature, with salt and pepper hair. His smile was pleasant and practiced, but his eyes swam with emotions. "Sergeant David Kay. These guys call me Deacon."

He offered his hand, and I took it. "A pleasure, Deacon."

For some reason, his introduction stuck with me. The weight of his eyes, that practiced pleasantry, the roughness of his palm.

And the silver band on his ring finger.

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hiiii hope you're having a nice day!!!!

Could recommend any fics where Derek is the True Alpha instead Scott? Preferably Sterek, but no-pairing/gen is alright too

Thank you!!

Hey @mayetaisho! I got you.

christabel by Petr1chor

(5/5 I 7,623 I General)

“Peter?” Stiles said, too shocked to keep it out of his voice, “Why are you calling?”

Peter sighed on the other end, genuine in a way Peter rarely was. “I thought you would want to know.”

“Know what?”

“About Derek.”

“Peter, I’m too old for your cryptic shit. Either spit it out or I’m hanging up.”

“Stiles,” Peter said, his voice shaky, somehow, “Derek is dead.”

Stiles had a phone in his hand, a shattered mug, a puddle of coffee and what might be a first degree burn on his foot.

“Stiles? Are you still there?” Peter’s voice sounded fuzzy when his phone wasn’t pressed against his ear. Without response, he hit end call.

Derek is dead.

xxx

Stiles goes back to Beacon Hills for Derek's funeral, but Derek isn't as dead as they assumed

..With My Teeth by Fayaheda

(1/1 I 7,763 I Mature)

"I'm gonna bite that incredible ass of yours, now..." She grins when she sees his cheeks flood and he looks down to his feet out of embarrassment. "...With my teeth."

The Bargain by dr_girlfriend 

(6/6 I 9,713 I Teen)

Time drags on, and it becomes apparent that this is not a part of the tradition. The wolves start to shift on their feet and murmur, but no one attempts to speak to Stiles. He stands, feeling the back of his neck growing red from the sun and his face growing red from embarrassment.

What will happen if Derek Hale cannot be coerced to the altar? Will the bargain be revoked?

The One You Choose by Asterekmess (Livinginfictions)

(7/7 I 13,495 I Mature)

Stiles hadn’t seen Scott in over a week, except for glances he caught during school hours.

You’re an Understatement (you’re getting worse) by LadySlytherin

(1/1 I 13,510 I Explicit)

Erica’s goal in life was to be hired by Neckz’n’Throats. Not as a model, though she knew she was hot enough for that. No, she wanted to be behind the camera. And to do that, she needed two things. A glowing recommendation, and a portfolio that would grab their attention; that would make them take her seriously. For that, she needed the right models. Thankfully, she knew just who to ask.

I found you hidden in plain sight (why'd I take so long?) by Gorgeousgreymatter

(7/7 I 25,419 I Explicit)

Stiles is pretty sure he’s hallucinating. He’s got to be. There’s no other plausible explanation, he thinks, as he sits on the sidelines of the lacrosse field and feels the cold, hard bench underneath him, the roar of the crowd at his back like the worst white noise machine in the world.

There’s no other reason why he sees it, the hulking, black figure of a wolf peering at him from the treeline behind the bleachers. Its eyes flare in the glaring glow of the stadium lights, but they’re the wrong color, he thinks: blood-moon red instead of cobalt blue, but the familiarity of it all makes his stomach roll and clench.

"X" marks the spot by mmspring

(3/3 I 39,796 I General)

"Please, bring my nephew back" Stiles stays silent for a second, before clearing his throat and speaking again. "Do you remember that time when you asked if someone in this town could stay dead?" he asks, and waits for the other man to confirm that he, indeed, remembers. "Well, let's hope the answer is still no".

Or

Stiles has to save the day once again, but he doesn't want the recognition for it.

DNA by badluckvixen13 (fanaticmusings)

(28/28 I 127,882 I Explicit)

Centuries ago, the Alliance gained control of the majority of the free world. The rest of the world, the Frontier, are the magical wastelands where criminals hide and dark secrets are lost and the pre-Alliance divisions remain. To foster a sense of allegiance, peace, and progression toward human and supernatural equality, the Alliance created the Handler-Shifter system to enforce supernatural law on behalf of humans and supernaturals alike.

For a better alliance, Stiles enters the service just like his parents before him. For the sake of Pack, Derek returns to the Alliance and finds himself partnered with a smart-mouthed, pale, kid who has seen more darkness than most people his age. Together with Scott and Kira, they find themselves standing on the edge of a revolution thousands of years in the making with only one question to answer:

Are they strong enough?

[ofliterarynature]

SEPTEMBER 2024 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok nope dnf reread* (book club)]

Bryony & Roses • The Paragon Hotel • The Invisible Library • (The Magic Fish) • The Gathering • Paladin of Souls • Mislaid in Parts Half-Known • Red White & Royal Blue* • North Woods • The Empty Grave* • Barda • Lost in the Moment & Found • The Creeping Shadow* • The Spellshop • Lalani of the Distant Sea

* * * * *

Lockwood & Co - not much to say, but it was fun revisiting an old favorite! It's becoming clearer with age and rereads that there are things about this series that I don't like, but the things I like definitely outweigh them - the way it does ghosts and uses a casebook structure among them! Would highly recommend if you're looking for something a bit spooky and mysterious.

Lost in the Moment and Found - this book was very hard to get into, because as it warns you, the opening involves a child experiencing grooming and gaslighting from an adult, and it is tense. Oof. But that said, between this and Mislaid in Parts Half-Known, I think Antsy's story and the Shop Where the Lost Things Go might be my favorite place and narrative arc we've seen yet.

Barda - I was obsessed with Ngozi's Check Please! for a number of years, and I think she's a very funny person in general! I read this on the strength of that alone despite no previous knowledge of the DC characters involved. I do honestly think this needed to be twice as long to get the depth of story necessary for an outsider, but dang did she pack the emotions in! I can fully see why she's obsessed with these characters, even if I don't feel like I have enough info to get into it myself.

North Woods - honest to god I'm so glad I picked up a copy of this at the library book sale, because I don't know if OR when I might have gotten to it otherwise. I don't really have the words, but it's one of those slow, literary, speculative, books that you have to work to put together that I love to listen to on audiobook and just marinate in for a few days. I would highly recommend to fans of Emily St John Mandel.

Red White & Royal Blue - I'll be honest, I somehow found myself on a FirstPrince fanfic binge and eventually hit a point where I thought to myself, you know, I've only read the book once, maybe I should go check that out again. It was fun! Remarkably similar in tone to the fanfic, so keep up the good work yall ;D

Paladin of Souls - Y'all. I'm so mad it took me this long to get to this after Curse of Chalion. I've seen this recommended so many times independent of the first book and they were so right, I loved it. Character-driven fantasy, great world building, a middle-aged female character who's on a journey of self-discovery and also so done with everyone's shit (including the gods, lol).

The Gathering - a murder investigation in Alaska with vampires *sounds* cool, but... the vampires are people, they're sentient, they have a culture, but they're also deeply hated and treated like predatory animals and are designated a protected species? It's trying to say something, but I'm not sure it works. Definitely taught me that I don't like crime novels or thrillers, but some bonus points for being unexpectedly queer.

The Magic Fish - I've see this around, but tumblr finally convinced me that I needed to read it and I got it onto the book club list. It was completely not what I was expecting, it was so much better! The description really led me to think it would be a lot more YA-ish and be about the son, but his mom is just as important to the story! It's got fairy tales, it's got complexity, the art was incredibly beautiful, ah!!! I'll be needing to get my own copy so I can read it again and think about it some more.

The Invisible Library - tumblr apparently finds this book very divisive, and both times I've asked about it there's been a 50/50 split on whether people liked or hated it lol. SO I went in with very low expectations, and I thought it was fun! It's not a great work of fantasy, I will give you that, but I do enjoy a tropey alt/historical fantasy adventure on occasion, and this filled that niche pretty well. It also didn't lean into a romance plot like I was afraid it would, and as long as it continues to do so (or at least handles it well), I think I could have fun with the rest of this series.

The Paragon Hotel - this is somehow my third Lydsay Faye, and while I don't think I've particularly loved any of them, she can really write a very solid book! A good read, with queer identities playing an unexpectedly major part in the plot!

Bryony & Roses - I have so far epically failed in my goal this year to read more of T Kingfisher's fantasy backlist, but I saw this on hoopla and thought I could fit it in. A very good time as always!

DNF

The Spellshop (16%) - I've read the author's YA in the past and (mostly) liked it at the time, and have been meaning to read her previous adult book for ages. Unfortunately, I've been having terrible luck with anything recent being marketed as cozy fantasy. I put 2 hours into this on audiobook and my initial impression of the story was earnestly quirky, charming, and anxious. Perhaps better than L&L, but I wasn't feeling much more than a vague interest and decided to cut my losses before my feelings entirely soured.

Lalani of the Distant Sea (10%) - this book sounds really cool (yes I did love Moana), the mythology and worldbuilding in the bit I read was interesting, but it is very much written for a younger reader. If I had any in my life currently I would be happy to give this to them! Just not the right pick for me right now.