#I would really like to know why they only got four episode

[elfboyeros]

Sorry I'm saying it Hazbin Hotel is lackluster

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

The Best Friend Showdown

Season four had many, many flaws. One of the big ones was the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict where Ladybug starts relying on Alya more and more, basically using her to replace Master Fu. We get a sense that Chat Noir feels inferior to Rena Rouge because of this change, but it’s never directly addressed. The most we get is this conversation from Hack-San:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. 

Which is actually a really weird bit of dialogue because - as far as I can tell - nothing in the episode revealed that Scarabella knew Ladybug's identity. She hands out miraculous all the time and no one knows who she really is. Why would this time be different? Ladybug could just show up in costume, explain what's up, and then hand off the earrings while using yet another miraculous.

Anyway, the Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict is “resolved” by Rena Rouge being outed again (and I guess that matters this time), leading her to give up her miraculous so that Gabriel can’t steal it away, which of course leads Gabriel to steal it away and fully disempower Ladybug’s larger team, leaving Chat Noir her only teammate.

How satisfying! This is such good, character-driven story telling!

It’s not. This is plot contrivances to the max with no meaningful character beats, but we’re not here to talk about that. We’re here to do one of my favorite things: gush about a relevant Kim Possible episode! Today’s topic is episode 12 of season one: Pain King vs. Cleopatra, the episode that introduces Kim’s female BFF, Monique!

This was a bit of a shocker for me because I didn’t realize that Kim and Monique weren’t pre-series friends. Turns out that, much like Alya, Monique is a new girl, which isn’t a bad call. This was a nice way to delay Monique’s introduction for a few episodes so that the writers could focus on establishing Kim’s relationship with other key members of the cast like her partner, Ron. Spacing out your intros is the way to go whenever you can pull it off as it’s a kindness to your audience that keeps them from feeling overwhelmed, making it more likely that they’ll remember your cast.

The other, more important similarity between Alya and Monique is that, when Kim’s hero partner and life-long friend finds out about Monique, he is less than thrilled:

Kim: I barely got to see them. Right after I hooked up with Monique, the museum was robbed by some glowing-headed animal guy. Ron: Oh, that's nice. Ron: Wait a minute, who's Monique? Kim New friend, really great. Anyway, the thief stole an enchanted ancient talisman. Ron: Whoa, whoa, back up! How can I not know about a new friend? Kim: I met her at Club Banana, then again at the museum before I chased the glowing robber. Ron: So what's she like? Kim: The robber? Ron: The friend, Kim, the "new friend".

Throughout the episode, Kim and Monique continue to bond without Ron, leaving Ron feeling left out:

Ron: Seein' a pattern here, Rufus: Kim does her thing, I do my thing, and pretty soon - we're doing different things.

Which leads him to get a little territorial:

Kim Ron! What are you doing here? Ron: Can I dine with my best friend and her new friend? Kim: Uuh, Ron, Monique, and vice versa. Ron: Bearclaw? Monique: No, thanks, I'm vegetarian. Ron: Uhm, I'm pretty sure it's imitation bear? Kim: She's joking, Ron. Ron: Good one, hahaha, ha, good one. So, did Kim tell you that I'm her sidekick? Cause that role is definitely taken by me. Monique: Riiiight. Well, in... you know I better get to class. Later, Kim. Um, n-nice meeting you, Ron. Ron: Likewise, I'm sure! Kim: What is your problem? You're acting really weird. Ron: Well, let's see. You went to the museum with Monique, not me. Monique was with you this morning, not me. Hmm, pattern? Kim: Yeah. You. Weird. Ron: No, we're drifting apart because you're excluding me. Kim: I am not excluding you. It's just that you and Monique are... different.

Noticing some similarities to Miraculous here?

So how does Kim Possible resolve this conflict?

Well, the plot of this episode resolves around Kim Possible’s version of professional wrestling, the GWA. There’s a competition going on that Kim has no interest in watching (mood), but when Kim mentions the GWA to Monique:

Monique: Why didn't you bring [Ron] along? Kim: Unless someone put a waiter in a headlock, this is definitely not Ron's scene. Besides, he had a date with "Steel Toe". Monique: He scored tickets to Mayhem in Middleton? The GWA rocks! Kim: What?

It turns out that Monique and Ron have a shared interest! Multiple shared interests, in fact! Interests that Kim does not share:

Monique: You know, I still can't believe you met Pain King and Steel Toe. Ron: I can't believe you're into wrestling. Kim: I can't believe I know either one of you.

By the end of the episode, the conflict is resolved not with Kim having to pick a BFF or with Monique somehow being demoted, but by showing that this didn’t need to be a conflict at all. Kim can have multiple close friends that she shares different interests with without any of those friends being lesser. Those friends can, in turn, have their own friendships that don’t always involve her.

It’s a genuinely lovely resolution that makes me love this little friend group because it now has added complexity. Monique and Ron are friends in their own right! Kim is not the center of the universe in spite of her main character status!

I also love that Kim isn’t vilified for having other friends or portrayed as constantly leaving Ron out of things that he'd want to do in favor of Monique. Ron genuinely would not enjoy most of the things that the girls love to do together. At the same time, Ron’s feeling aren’t treated as totally irrational either and Kim even admits to ditching him. It’s a genuine, complex conflict that is super common when someone enters a new relationship be it platonic or romantic.

Obviously Kim Possible’s version of this conflict feels far less complex than Miraculous’ because Kim Possible understood that Ron should be Kim’s one-and-only partner, so his position was really never threatened. Monique does not want to be an action hero and is never given the sort narrative weight that elevates her to Ron’s level or higher, but that doesn't matter. The basic lesson here is still relevant and super important for the intended audience of both of these shows.

There did not need to be a Rena Rouge vs Chat Noir conflict that never got properly resolved. Miraculous could have made these two friends and no, Scarabella doesn't count because Chat Noir has no idea that Scarabella is Rena Rouge/Furtive. Their relationship ended at the end of Hack-San. He didn't even know that Rena Furtive was a thing until she was in the process of being benched and that's the problem.

Kim Possible is not a team show, Miraculous is, and yet Kim Possible has better team dynamics than Miraculous. Monique could have joined Kim's team at the end of Pain King vs. Cleopatra and it would have felt natural because both Kim and Ron had welcomed Monique and formed a genuine bond with her. This is a true friend group that Miraculous can only dream of even though they've been adding new superheroes since season two.

We're going into a season with a full, massive team and yet that team has no established dynamics on the hero side. It's not a functional team! None of these characters have meaningful relationships with each other as heroes save for Alya and Nino since they know each other’s secret identities. The only relationships Miraculous cares about are the various romances and everyone's relationship to Marinette and everyone suffers for it.

The show would not have been harmed by Rena Rouge, Chat Noir, and Ladybug being a team. It was the thing I kept think after watching the Kim Possible episode. Since the team is the end game, why aren't we seeing them? It would have been so nice to have Hack-San end with Ladybug introducing Chat Noir to Rena Furtive instead of a nonsense discussion about an issue the episode didn't even address.

[jinxthequeergirl]

The Ol switcharoo (pt3)

Stan pines x reader/ ford pines x reader

Summary: 30 years pass and you meet stanfords family.

Warning: NONE

Sorry for another short chapter. Consider this a filler episode. Chapter four should be better.

~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~

30 years is a long time.

You can do a lot in that time.

You can live a lot of different lives in 30 years.

You started cutting your hair in that time, Stanford taught you to box, You'd gone on many different adventures. Most of which you often questioned the legality of, but they still made you laugh.

Now you mainly tended to the Mystery shack no more adventures, you wondered as you sat on the couch next to Stanford when you'd gotten so old. And when your life had changed so much.

You had almost forgotten all about anything before your family vacation. you and Stanford had grown into a pretty comfortable life together. You wouldn't lie you'd come to love the life you've grown into with him.

But you've also missed the adventures you used to go on, finding monsters , exploring the unknown.

But you were only met with gluing eyeballs to pieces of plastic halloween decorations and making up stories to make out of towns folk get a good laugh in.

You had tried to find Stanfords journals just to "relive the glory days" but with no luck.

You were never sure what happened to them, if he had accidentally tossed them out, if he had lost them himself or if that was part of what happened while you where away. Either way you stopped looking. You never asked about them either.

Stanford seemed to really enjoy his life with you too, you never got the idea he wanted to turn back or like he was waiting for some big adventure.

"This may sound corny but you and the mystery shack are my big adventure...I wouldn't trade you or the old shack for anything y/n. Not. For. ANYTHING."

So you stopped worrying yourself with the journals or the old research, let alone the real monsters that lurked in the woods.

You hunkered down, sold stories and bumper stickers in your matching suits and watched night time television before falling asleep on top of eachother every night.

This was the routine you'd fallen into. You found it odd if you had to sleep without Stanfords shoulder as your pillow or his jolt of laughter before he realized you fell asleep. It was odd for both of you to not debate who got giftshop duity over tour duties. (You always got gift shop.)

It was odd when a pair of twins arrived on your front lawn.

"You never talk about your family." You said following Stanford down the stairs to meet them. "Sure I do." He said clearly a little nervous.

"Mmm no...I didn't know you had a sister! Let alone great neices and nephews!..excuse us, Soos." You say almost chasing him through the gift shop almost knocking soos over.

He paused as both of you looked out the little door window at them. "Listen...I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my family... to be fair... we aren't really close..but somethings came up and-" You could see his stress building up as he tried to piece together something that made you understand how important it was to make a good impression on those kids.

You placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here with you... you can explain it all later, but right now, I'm right by your side, like always." He smiled and placed a hand on top of yours.

Before heading outside to me, you are in tow.

"I DIDN'T KNOW I HAD A GREAT AUNT! A GRANT!? A GRRR...GRAUNT!?" The girl in the pair shouted excitedly after stan had introduced you to them.

"That's cause you don't. We aren't married y/ns a friend."

You laughed at the girl who energetically and enthusiastically introduced herself as Mable. The introduction was followed by several need to know now questions, all of which would later be scribbled onto a paper for you to fill out and return to her.

☆what's your favorite color

☆ do you like my grunkle stan?

☆if you were a magical creature, what would you be? Why? WHAT WOULD I BE? why?

☆do you LOOOOVEEE grunkle stan?

☆opinion on stickers?

"Alright, you two leys get you up to your room for the summer." Stan said, pulling Mable away from you and grabbing her bags.

You grabbed the second set of bags and followed stan and the two kids.

"Dipper, right?" You asked the boy who fell in line with you "oh yea! Yep that's me!" He laughed nervously.

"Very cool name,I like your hat by the way." You prayed you didn't seem like you were trying too hard to get them to like you.

"So you and grunkle stan run this place?" Dipper asked, looking at all your hot glue collages as Stanford decided to give them the grand tour before their room.

"Yup." You nodded.

"What's the point? Isn't this all fake? I mean... I can see the string on the invisible man's glasses." He said pointing out the attraction as you passed.

"Oh c'mon Dipper, how could you not love the jackalope!? Is he a deer? Is he a rabbit? I can't tell!" Mable said, carrying the creature in her arms like a teddy bear.

"I just don't get it? Why lie to people when I'm sure there has to be something real out there!"

You smiled at him. He sounded like you when you were a kid...he sounded more like Stanford before the shack. "You like the supernatural?" You asked.

"Oh yea, dippers a huge nerd he loves all that junk!" Mable said punching her brother in the shoulder.

"Oh, here we go! Don't get this one started on mystery and supernatural boogie men!" Stanford said, stopping to join your conversation.

"Y/n used to be big on hunting and looking for stuff like this." He said, wrapping his arm around you. "Used too...I haven't in over 30 years...it got too complicated." You opted to give them a simple answer as to why you stopped.

"Really!? That's so cool!" Dipper exclaimed. "If you ever need someone to go on adventures with, you can trust me."

Over the upcoming weeks, it was slightly rocky with the kids getting settled in, but eventually, they started warming up to the shack as well as yourself and Stanford.

You were quite pleased to have their company, actually. You felt something change in your everyday lives when they entered the shack.

"Depending on who you ask." You said continuing your story as you placed plates in front of the kids. "Your grunkle and I are married." The kids gasped. "Only through some silly machine in Vegas it wasn't real there was this one time -"

Stan chuckled to himself as you told the story of your fake marriage in Vegas as he watched the three of you laugh in the kitchen.

He smiled. Watching you frantically move your arms to further dramatice the story, a certain shine he'd noticed had been missing from your eyes for a few years now. You had it when he'd met you.

The same day, he knew things would be different for him. They HAD been different. You accepted him for everything he was. You went along with his crazy shenanigans. You gave up a whole life for him.

He remembered the birthday parties you had thrown for him. Even if you were the only person to be there for him.

He knew after a few years of you doing so that you would always be the only one there. He had the strangest feeling the night of his 35 birthday when he realized this.

He lied awake in bed, staring at the ceiling when it occurred to him what the feeling was.

"Oh no."

He quietly snuck away from you and the kids, still hearing your laughter erupt through the house behind him. He made his way into the darkened gift shop and punched a code into the vending machine, and went down to the basement he swore to you he'd destroyed.

30 years, and all he had offered you was lies. After all you'd done for him after all the care you'd shown him after all you had sacrificed. He just wanted you to have a normal life. A good life.

Not something he had fabricated.

He spent most of his time thinking about the large machine that still sat in his basement, the other half worrying about you. If he was giving a good life if he was soing as good a job being in your life as you had done for him.

He worried about what might happen when, IF he was able to pull of bringing his brother back.

How would you react to being lied to for 30 years. Maybe you did really feel the same way he had felt about you for years and you would forgive him.

In order for that to work, he'd have to actually admit his feelings to you.

He wanted to, he also wanted do a lot more for you in the 30 years you'd been together but always failed before he could make a move or do anything really. He pushed aside a notepad filled with ideas of kind gestures he could do for you (most of which were crossed out) and replaced the space with the journal Ford had left him.

He would get it right.

All of it.

Eventually.

Then again.

He could always ask Mable.

While you laughed with two kids at a dinner table and Stanley beat himself up about lying and tried to rebuild his life.

The real Stanford pines sat out there amongst the stars with nothing but a creased photo of the two of you and wondered why it was taking you so long to find him.

~~~~~~~☆~~~~~

Taglist:

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@leo4242564

@space1crow

@steveharringtongf

@mckennaishere07

@nothingbutcloud

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[fluentmoviequoter]

Once in a Lifetime

The Rookie x SWAT documentary-style (reader insert) crossover

Summary: Mid-Wilshire opens a case that requires seven police departments, numerous SWAT teams, and an unusual witness. As the public watches a documentary all about the case and the people involved, they see more than crime.

Warnings: narration is in italics, injuries and blood, character death, discussion of child abuse, depiction of cults/brainwashing, fake tweets, I probably went overboard, fluff and comfort at the end I promise

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: This idea struck me last night and I had to do something with it. I hope someone enjoys it, but I'm never using a tweet generator again because it took an embarrassing amount of time.🤍

What if a once-in-a-lifetime moment depended on a single decision, rather than a plethora of them?

“I didn’t call the police because it’s none of my business. I’ve seen how she treats her kids, why would I interject my family into that when I don’t have to?”

What if the one moment that could change everything was slipping away before you arrived?

“I’ve got a pulse! As soon as we’re code 4, I need an R/A standing by!”

What if the world stopped for your once in a lifetime?

“The 405 has been shut down between Signal Hill and Alameda Street. This sudden, unexplained closure, in conjunction with the heavy law enforcement presence throughout Los Angeles, has citizens alert and concerned.”

What if the only person who can save you is the result of dozens of perfectly aligned once-in-a-lifetime moments?

“7-Lincoln-100, I’ve located another-“

This is Once in a Lifetime.

Sergeant Tim Bradford, Officers Chen, Nolan, Juarez, and Smitty enter different areas of the Mid-Wilshire police station. Detective Lopez and her husband, attorney Wesley Evers, take a seat in their home, while Detective Nyla Harper and Sergeant Wade Grey sit at their respective desks. Each officer has been interviewed for a documentary before, but the mood is distinctly somber as compared to the other episodes.

“Hi, I’m Alex, host of ‘It’s All Bloody (and) True,’” the man behind the camera introduces. “Today’s episode is about the case involving eight different police departments, four specialized units, a major highway closure, and - correct me if I’m wrong - a series of once-in-a-lifetime decisions and opportunities that seem mathematically impossible.”

“Mathematically impossible?” Wesley repeats. “Try completely impossible. On paper, there is no way this case should have lined up the way it did.”

“Not to say it was easy,” Angela adds. “I’ve been on the job for a long time, and this was unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

“As the veteran officer on this case,” Wade continues from his office, “I agree with Detective Lopez. Everything g about this was unprecedented.”

“I’d like to start with day one of the investigation,” Alex requests. “Take us through the first moment, the call, and how this came into your station and became your duty.”

Lucy answers, “911 dispatchers received a call from a distressed man claiming that his neighbor had gone missing.”

“A call that raised concern for more reasons than his distress, correct?”

“Yes,” Sergeant Bradford says. “The caller mentioned the name of his neighbor’s employer.”

ACTUAL TRANSCRIPT OF 911 CALL: CALLER She- she went to work like she always does, but this was days ago. It would’ve been… Monday, no Tuesday because my wife was making donuts for her board meeting. Eileen called her in at some crazy time. DISPATCH You said Eileen? Is that your neighbor’s boss? CALLER Yes, yes. Eileen Indigo, I believe. She’s made her do crazy things before, but she needs the job, you know? I’m just really scared because she’s never done anything like this before and Eileen has some serious issues. DISPATCH Officers have been alerted and will be performing a welfare check, sir.

“You responded to the welfare check?” Alex inquires.

“We did,” John Nolan replies. “There was no answer at the door, so we surveyed what we could see and there was no sign of anyone inside, of forced entry, or any foul play.”

“Without that, there’s no probable cause for us to enter,” his rookie, Celina, adds. “Although there was a feeling of urgency surrounding her residence.”

“Is that- is that something you look for as police?”

“Of course not,” Tim snaps. “But we’re human, we have emotions. We notice things about how people and places feel.”

“Unfortunately, Officer Juarez’s empathy and intuition wasn’t enough for us to move forward,” Lucy continues. “And without any sign that something nefarious had happened, all we could do was post a missing person’s report.”

“But the case stood out?” Alex guesses.

“Right,” Tim agrees. “Because of Eileen Indigo.”

PREVIOUS INTERVIEW FOOTAGE: “Ms. Indigo,” Detective Harper greets. “We have a few questions about your relationship with Devon Taylor.” “There isn’t one,” the young woman replies, picking at her shirt rather than looking at the cop across from her. “He left six months ago. During our kids’ birthday party, can you believe that?” “Ma’am, we located Mr. Taylor. He’s deceased, and his body was dumped in a viaduct.” The woman sits back in the chair, straightens her shirt, and asks, “Did he have cash on him? I gave him $50 for a new flat iron before he ran out.”

“So, why did the mention of her name spark interest?" Alex asks. "Taylor’s case had been closed, his best friend - who turns out to be Ms. Indigo’s, uh…”

“Sidepiece?” Angela suggests.

“Mister?” Wesley adds. “There’s not a direct mirror of ‘mistress,’ is there?”

“Yeah, the friend got jealous that Indigo hadn't left her husband and offed him. What made us remember Indigo was the complete lack of care,” Grey explains.

“That and the concerns about her treatment of their children,” Nyla comments.

“Surely if she was mistreating her children, it would have been uncovered during the duration of your investigation?” Alex hypothesizes.

“Not our investigation.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“Right, there were eight police stations involved in this case,” Alex remembers.

“There are only 21 stations in Los Angeles, for reference,” Wesley says. “Seven of the stations working this case were in LA. So, one-third of the officers were directly tied to this case in some capacity.”

“And the introduction of Eileen Indigo introduced this collaboration?”

“Not exactly,” Tim begins. “When we began looking into Indigo, it was only in regards to how she was treating our missing person. And, as we began looking into that, we discovered past complaints and CPS reports of her children being mistreated.”

“And?”

“CPS found nothing,” Nolan replies.

“Their investigations - plural - all determined that the children were in good health, being cared for, and not in any immediate danger,” Celina states.

“So, you went back to square one,” Alex says, flipping a page of his notes.

“Not at all,” Wade interrupts. “We were still trying to piece together the caller’s claim that Indigo mistreated her kids and her employees when we received a call from another station.”

“And he dropped a bombshell,” Nyla deadpans.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“Would you mind introducing yourself?” Alex asks.

“Sure. I’m Commander Robert Hicks, LAPD SWAT,” the man seated in a different station greets.

“Upon learning that Mid-Wilshire was looking into Eileen Indigo, you called their watch commander. Why?”

“After the initial report of child abuse, my 20-David SWAT team was dispatched to Indigo’s residence. Responding officers reported that she had barricaded herself and her children inside. My people got there, got in, and found that Indigo and her children were asleep, completely safe and unharmed.”

“And that didn’t bring more questions?”

“Of course it did,” Hicks argues. “There’s just procedure to follow, and even though my team wanted to get to the bottom of what happened and find out more about Indigo, we can’t just dive into people’s background because we feel like it.”

“When you called Grey, were you planning to offer your team to be on standby?”

“No, and I didn’t right away.”

“When was it decided that SWAT would be beneficial to working the case?”

“After the next call,” overlapping voices reply.

BODY CAM FOOTAGE - Roll Call Room: “This is Sergeant Harrelson, Sergeant Kay, Officer Luca, Officer Tan, and Officer Street,” Wade introduces. “They will be on standby during the visit to Ms. Indigo’s home. If a warrant is issued, they will serve it.” “We have experience with Indigo and have been on the home before, so we’re happy to offer any assistance we can,” Harrelson adds. “What if she lets us search the house and we don’t find anything?” Officer Juarez asks. “It’s a missing persons’ report, there’s not much we can do,” Nolan answers. “One thing at a time,” Wade reminds them.

“Not only did you secure a warrant because of a subsequent complaint, but you felt it necessary to bring in five additional departments from different stations,” Alex muses. “What did you find that led you to take such extreme measures?”

“Let’s just say, I drew up the affidavit, and while you’re only required to provide the judge with probable cause to believe evidence is present in the location being searched, my document was nearly 50 pages in length,” Wesley shares.

“And the judge only read the first page,” Angela adds.

Nyla then says, “The judge signed not only the warrant for her office but gave us a warrant for every piece of real estate she had under her name. We found five additional residences and several acres of land outside of Palm Springs.”

“Making Palm Springs PD the third station to join what was turning into a hunt for the missing woman,” Lucy connects. “It was also at this point that Sergeant Grey knew we needed to serve all six warrants simultaneously, so we needed more hands.”

“In addition to recruiting Metro, patrol, and SWAT officers from our sister stations,” Wade adds, “we also put out a nationwide BOLO. It was Thursday afternoon at this point, so we were two days past when the 911 caller had last seen his neighbor alive.”

“With a plan to raid Indigo’s office and homes at the same time, you went out in teams,” Alex says. “But most people who’ve had A&E any time after 2004 know that the first 48 hours of missing persons investigations are vital, and after that, the chances of finding them alive go down.”

The camera shows Nyla, usually the effortlessly funny detective, sigh deeply before she says, “That’s what made the next part so hard.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

Alex finds a paper with names on it, then says, “This is the team that raided Eileen Indigo’s office in California Heights. Going around the table quickly, we have Commander Bob Hicks, 20-David SWAT members Sergeants Harrelson and Kay, Officers Luca, Tan, and Street, as well as Detective Harper, and Officer Chen. Additionally, Metro Sergeant Tim Bradford.”

“And I was the one who chose to close the 405,” Wade offers.

“As someone who worked for LBPD, I continue to support that decision,” Street says. “The office building - which was a converted house - backed up to Orange Avenue, which crosses the 405 and has its own on-ramp. Had she been able to get on there and disappear into car-pocalypse, we’d be telling a different story right now.”

“That was surprisingly logical,” Harrelson - who invited everyone to call him Hondo before the cameras started rolling - muses.

“So, the 405 is closed for a good reason, but why leave the public hanging?” Alex wonders.

“To protect ourselves and others,” Lucy says. “If she knew we were coming, who’s to know what she might have done.”

“She would’ve run,” Tim adds from his commander’s office. “Or, worse, she would have harmed the people close to her to throw us off her scent.”

“You said ‘the people closest to her.’ Raiding Indigo’s office made this case about more than a missing woman,” Alex editorializes.

BODY CAM FOOTAGE - Eileen Indigo's Office Building: “LAPD,” Hondo calls quietly as a woman sitting at the front desk raises her hands in shock. “Get down on the ground. How many people are inside?” “Just Ms. Indigo, her assistants, and the trigon team,” she whispers.

PREVIOUS 911 CALL: CALLER I don’t know what exactly she’s doing! Her children are outside in the cold reciting something about tricycles, maybe? She has a paper in her hand and when they say the wrong word, she threatens them! DISPATCH Officers and EMS are en route.

“Tell me more about Trigon,” Alex requests.

“I wish we could,” Angela replies.

“Indigo’s trigon team continues to be a mystery,” Wesley explains further. “There’s real estate holdings with each team member listed as a beneficiary, they’ve got a joint bank account, but we can’t find any real evidence of them actually doing anything together.”

“As far as we could tell,” Tim begins, looking away from the camera quickly, “the so-called trigon team was some sort of attempt at starting a cult. The uh, ‘members’ were evaluated by a psychiatrist, who believed there had been a degree of brainwashing involved.”

“When we connected the 911 call about her – how do I put this? – initiation of her children, we knew there was more to Indigo’s business than we anticipated,” Lucy says. “But, at the moment during the raid, we were in no way interested in getting these answers, just finding the missing woman and getting cuffs on Eileen.”

“Without an arrest warrant,” Wade reminds Alex and his viewers. “We had to find probable cause to legally arrest her, and though the judge understood our evidentiary concerns and issued the search warrants, he didn’t have enough to give us an arrest warrant.”

“So, you went in looking for something you could arrest her for?” Alex asks, suddenly sounding accusatory.

“No,” Tim snaps. “We went in looking for a missing person because there was more than enough evidence that Indigo had engaged in threats of violence in and out of the workplace.”

“But isn’t workplace mistreatment a civil matter?”

“Most cases are,” Wesley agrees. “But when it grows more severe; when threats progress to actual physical assault, it becomes a criminal offense under California law.”

“There was no evidence of that included in the affidavit.”

“That’s because Palm Springs PD hadn’t found her trophies,” Nyla responds.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

BODY CAM FOOTAGE – Eileen Indigo’s Palm Springs Property: “Clear!” an officer calls. “We’re code 4.” “I got something!” another voice alerts. A sergeant passes through the barricade and kneels by the recently disturbed dirt. A large metal box protrudes from the shallow hole, and he radios for a forensics team. When they arrive, the box is photographed before it is removed and opened. Inside, there are dozens of disturbing photographs (which have been blurred for viewers of the documentary). “Get Sergeant Grey on the phone!” someone yells.

“When I received the call, the teams serving warrants on her LA properties had already left the station,” Wade explains. “I alerted the senior officer at each location and allowed them to distribute that knowledge as they saw fit.”

“It ended up being completely irrelevant,” Sergeant ‘Deacon’ Kay interjects. “When we reached the conference room of Indigo’s office, we had enough to arrest her.”

“The trigon team was…” Angela pauses, attempting to find the right word.

“Cataloging,” Nyla finishes for her. “They were sorting new, additional pictures that put Indigo not only at several crime scenes but explained how she had evaded CPS and past officer visits in the past.”

“She was mistreating her children?” Alex translates.

“Not physically,” Celina answers.

“Though there were early signs of that progression during the children’s examinations,” Nolan adds. “No, she preferred psychologically abusing her children. Brainwashing, manipulation, a sick sort of training, whatever you want to call it, she forced it upon her children.”

“And her employees, as it proved with the trigon team.”

“So, you find the trigon team, arrest them with relative ease, and then what happens?” Alex asks.

“It sounded like the world was ending,” Lucy answers.

BODY CAM FOOTAGE – Eileen Indigo’s Office Building: “Street, Bradford,” Hondo calls, “with me.” Street and Tim fall into line behind Hondo and continue moving through the narrow hallway. As they pass Indigo’s open door and empty office, a sudden, deafening noise fills their ears and the microphones on their body cameras. Every officer ducks forward instinctually and attempts to drown out the noise. “It’s coming from the garage!” Tim yells. “7-Adam-19, we need backup in the kitchen! Taking fire!” Lucy radios. “Go!” Street tells Hondo, “We’ll handle the garage.” Hondo nods and moves through the noisy house to assist the officers being fired at. “Eyes on Indigo!” Nyla alerts. “Moving from the kitchen toward the master bedroom!” Tim taps Street’s shoulder before they enter the garage. As the door opens, the noise grows louder. “What the-“ Street mumbles. “Go!” Tim yells. “Shut it off!” Street nods, then pulls the strap on his gun across his chest. With his hands free, he grabs the jackhammer being held upright by 5-gallon buckets filled with sand and water. As he tries to find the right button to turn it off, Tim circles the car slowly before he drops to his knees and slides his head and shoulders beneath it. “Eileen Indigo is in custody,” Nyla radios after the jackhammer silences. “Back bedroom is barricaded,” Luca adds. “Hold for entry.” “Bradford, what are you doing?” Street inquires. Tim pushes himself out, and Street immediately sees the blood – your blood - coating his hands. Tim says, “I found her,” then returns to his original position beneath the car. “Officers taking fire!” Tan alerts. “Deac!” Street calls into his radio. “We need a medic.” “We need a little more than a medic!” Tim barks. “Where are you?” Deacon asks, raising his voice over the commotion in the house. “Garage,” Street answers. “I can’t get over there, Street. I’m on the 3-side and there’s a firefight between us,” Deacon replies. “Victim has been located,” Tim radios, shockingly calm for someone with blood up his forearms. “We need an R/A. I’ve got a pulse, but not for long.” “Can we move her?” Street asks, moving to his knees to look under the car. “She’s not responsive,” Tim replies. “It’s not smart, but we’re running out of options.” “It’s probably a stupid idea,” Street decides. Tim turns his head, keeping his hands against your sides. “What’s a stupid idea?” “This car probably runs, has a big trunk… We need to get her help, right?” Tim hesitates, then says, “Get in the car.” “What part of move her did you not hear?” “We can’t move her much, she’ll bleed out. Pull the car forward.” “Hondo, we need someone blocking the garage, we're moving the vic,” Street radios as he climbs into the car. “It’s a button-start, if the key isn’t close enough, we can’t start it.” “Street, try!” Tim yells as gunfire grows louder.

“You find Eileen Indigo, take her into custody, and find the missing woman,” Alex reiterates. “And decide to drive over her, knowing she was injured. That seems like an absolute last resort.”

“Considering we were in a gunfight with Eileen’s version of private security and an ambulance can’t come in until we’re completely clear, we needed a last resort,” Nyla snaps. “It’s not something we’d do every day, but it was what we needed in this instance. It was try to get her in the car and out of the house, or risk letting the woman bleed out.”

The shot changes to Tim Bradford, who looks at a piece of paper lying in his lap but doesn’t speak.

“Sergeant Bradford?” Alex says softly.

“Yeah,” he replies, shaking his head as he looks up. He flips the paper, briefly showing the camera that it’s an image of you – smiling, happy, and alive. “While Officer Street started the car, I kept pressure on the victim’s wounds and ensured neither of us was in the way of the tires.”

“Officer Street’s recollection suggests you covered the victim’s body with your own. Is that what made this case emotional?”

“Amongst other things.”

BODY CAM FOOTAGE – Eileen Indigo’s Office Garage: “Okay, let’s do this,” Street says, rounding the SUV as the trunk opens. Tim shifts, moving to your left side as his hands press against your side, just below your ribs. “The kids,” you mumble. “We’ve got them,” Tim assures you. “Do you know where you are?” You open your eyes and meet Tim’s gaze, murmur, “Thank you,” and lose consciousness. “She’s fading, we have to go now,” Tim states. “Tell me what to do, Sergeant,” Street requests. Tim looks around and gestures to a stack of beach towels with his chin. “Put those in the trunk, then come put pressure here.” Street does as Tim instructed and holds your side as Tim lifts you in a bridal carry. You groan, and Tim is glad to hear you reacting but terrified by how much blood you’re losing and your lack of consciousness. “Drive,” Tim demands as he climbs into the trunk with you. “26-David and Sergeant Bradford, transporting victim in suspect’s Chevrolet Tahoe, partial plate Foxtrot-9-3-4,” Street alerts dispatch. The hospital becomes visible just as Wade radios, “We’re 10-4 all around, code 4. Indigo and the shooters are in custody.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“With the teamwork of seven stations, nearly 200 officers, and a 60-hour-long hunt, the missing woman was located,” Alex narrates. “And is transported to the hospital.”

“Less than an hour later, we received a call that she died on the operating table,” Nyla says. “There really wasn’t anything we could do at that point, just hope that the evidence would talk, and Eileen’s reformed followers and children could testify.”

“You found the victim. How did that news affect you?” Alex asks Street and Bradford, now separated from the other officers.

“What kind of question is that?” Street asks. “Regardless of who found her, the news of her death was still devastating.”

“Calls like that are always hard,” Tim answers flatly. “But we didn’t have a ton of time to dwell on it before Officer Thorsen found something else.”

ACTUAL RADIO COMMUNICATION: “7-Lincoln-100,” Aaron Thorsen radios. “I’ve located another employee of Eileen Indigo’s. Albert Camden, in custody for 211 with a water gun.” “Yeah, Albert Camden was still relatively sane,” Wade deadpans. “He gave us everything we needed to prosecute Eileen to the full extent of the law.” “Why turn on his employer so easily?” Alex inquires. “She threatened to kill his family if he didn’t rob the corner store where he was arrested,” Angela answers. “After he learned she was in custody, he gave us detailed accounts of his time with Indigo and why he didn’t quit.” “And it was during this time that the final 911 call came in,” Alex says.

ACTUAL TRANSCRIPT OF 911 CALL: DISPATCH 911, what’s the location of your emergency? CALLER I need to speak to Bradford. DISPATCH I’m sorry? CALLER He’s a cop, and I have information for him about Eileen Indigo, but I don’t know which station he works at.

Tim looks up from the camera and the corners of his lips quirk up.

“Welcome,” Alex greets, shaking hands with someone behind the camera. “Thanks for coming to tell your side.”

Tim shifts his seat to the right and invites the 911 caller to sit beside him.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“Mind introducing yourself?” Alex asks.

You send him a small smile and shift in your seat before offering your name. “I worked for Eileen Indigo for about 6 weeks before she decided she wanted me to be a 24-hour employee.”

“Meaning?”

“She invited me to stay in the office 24/7 and do essentially anything she asked me. I very briefly considered it, only to ensure her children were safe, but ultimately turned it down. It was at that time she abducted me.”

“Why did you decide to fake your death?”

“I didn’t,” you reply with a smile. “Sergeant Kay did, and after the role he played in saving my life, with Officer Street and Sergeant Bradford, I wasn’t going to argue.”

“So,” Alex begins with Deacon and Street, “Why?”

“We learned that the father of her children wasn’t out of the picture, not like we thought,” Street answers.

“Mr. Devon Taylor was not murdered,” Deacon adds. “He met with detectives at the Mid-Wilshire station and worked with them to try to recover his children from their birth mother.”

“Taylor had an associate who was planning to take over Indigo’s business and real estate endeavors,” Nyla explains.

“I figured if her enterprise was directly connected to a murder, he’d hesitate,” Deacon continues.

“And he did,” Alex replies. “Just long enough to be caught using Indigo’s bank account. So, he was taken into custody, yet your people were not alerted to the actual survival of the victim.”

“Right,” Tim answers through a clenched jaw. “A minor oversight.”

“One of the doctors caught it and allowed me to call Sergeant Bradford,” you say. “I had to thank him for saving me, but he did hang up on me.”

Lucy laughs, leaning forward, before she exclaims, “His face! He hung up and immediately drove to the hospital with his lights and sirens on.”

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS DURING LIVE BROADCAST:

“After a series of no less than a dozen once-in-a-lifetime opportunities aligning perfectly, Eileen Indigo was arrested and is going to trial in the coming weeks,” Alex concludes. “Anything that stands out to you as the case comes to a close?”

Each officer offers a lesson or two that can be learned from their time working the case, except for Tim, Deacon, and you. During Alex’s ending narration, a cameraman steps around a corner and zooms in on you. Viewers watch in delight as you smile with Tim and Deacon. When your hand rises to Tim’s arm after Deacon excuses himself, people begin to wonder if Tim got more than a good arrest.

SOCIAL MEDIA POSTS AFTER LIVE BROADCAST: (featuring your response to the massive amount of feedback)

Lucy Chen - 2 new messages

It’s not just us, everyone can see the chemistry🤭 Have fun on your date!!

He might not say it, but you’re Tim’s once-in-a-lifetime. Thanks for being there for him.

[jayktoralldaylong]

Alright, there's something I'd like to talk about, and let's come at it with an open mind. When Season one of Arcane ended I was 99% sure that Mel was not going to make it to this season. I was praying for every kind of miracle that could happen just to keep that beautiful goddess on screen but she was the first line of contact for that bomb.

Now that everything has been revealed, I want to talk about that bomb.

Ironically, Season two episode one starts with the exact same shine of gold that ended season one.

See, season one:

Season two:

And when the smoke clears we can see her leaning really close to Jayce, like she got blasted towards him.

Now, looking at the seat arrangements from Season one, I can actually see it a lot better now that I'm taking a second look. We can see that she is standing directly in the line of fire, Jayce is standing to her left and Viktor is sitting in his chair, Jayce's chair. Just about everyone sitting by her right died, Salo is sitting furthest away from the blast, opposite her. He probably saw it just a few seconds before she did.

And when she wakes up, all groggy and out of focus, her hands are on his shoulder. They been there, she did not just put them there, she already had her hands on him. Protecting him.

But what I really want to pay attention to, is the look on Mel's face when she and Jayce take in the damage.

The entire place burned down. Realistically, not a single person should have survived that, especially not unharmed.

Then the damage starts sinking in (Don't look at Jayce, look at Mel):

Look at Mel, as they look around the room of injured Councillors.

Jayce is panicking, full on panicking, he's had his nerves rattled, he's never seen anything like this (unlike Mel who, if the audience remembers, grew up in Noxus). And the sweetest thing is how she follows him around, trying to comfort him, while he's trying to shake Cassandra awake.

And she stays right there by his side, until her mother pulls her away (foreshadowing about their duties pulling them apart perhaps?)

Now, imagine you were in the middle of a disaster, a terrible disaster, and you had the power to save every single person in that room, but you did not know this because no one ever bothered once telling you that you had powers. However, in that moment, you did indeed save one person, without knowing, without even thinking. Who did Mel save?

She saved Jayce. (The craziest thing about that.....is that.... Viktor was literally right beside him. He was right beside Jayce OMG 😭😭).

Watching this scene, I cannot imagine the amount of guilt that threatened to swallow Mel whole ever0y time she saw the aftermath of what happened and a small part of her brain would nag her that she could have prevented it, that she could have protected Jayce's friend.

So why Jayce? Why ONLY Jayce?

"Because she loves him."

Obvious answer, two plus two equals four, but this is Arcane we're talking about, there is more to this simple equation and it is plain to see in their reactions in the aftermath.

Jayce is devastated. He is new to war, he does not know shit about it, it scares him to see all the people that he respects flattened like they are nothing. The Piltover Council means something to Jayce.

To Mel, they are colleagues. They are.... people with names and faces and power. They are people she would help on a normal day, but at the first sign of danger she clung to one person.

Jayce was Viktor's first friend, and he was Mel's too. He was the first person to tell her that she was not crazy. The first person to strangely believe in her dreams, to pour out affection not out of arrogance but genuine care that he was not ashamed or even hesitant to show her. He fought for peace when she began to doubt. When she felt unstable, his naivete and pure heart steadied her.

Mel loved Jayce. Loved him so much that she did not freak out when he was tweaking cause of the Arcane. So much that she fought for him when he was getting outright dominated by his ex. 💀💀 And while it is not the space shattering world changing soul bonded union of javik, I think it is beautiful that Mek loved Jayce.

I think it's ironic that the brotherly love that people keep trying to achieve with Jayce and Viktor was represented so well with Jayce and Mel. I think it's iconic that a male and female character that banged on screen can go their separate ways without a dramatic breakup and without losing the entirety of their care for one another (cause some of it was definitely damaged after their individual trauma).

What I'm trying to say is that Mel loved Jayce. The love was there. Call it romantic or platonic or whatever but she cared about him more than she cared about anyone in that room when that bomb went off.

And it just twists something in my heart....that Jayce was so loved by the two people that meant so much to him. That he gave all of his heart out and they gave everything back because of how selfless his love was. Everyone says Viktor and Mel are out of Jayce's league but they both keep putting him first. (⁠T⁠T⁠) They just cannot resist that all encompassing love of his. It saved Viktor, and it saved Mel who finally found her truth, and lost him to find it.

[imagionationstation]

Something I was thinking about today:

The claim that Splinter “never feeds his sons human food” and they have to discover it upon reaching the surface is a curious one.

It makes sense given common information.

Let’s use our big brains. Reason out some more info.

Info like… Splinter must have looked up information about turtles before buying four baby turtles.

However, after getting turned into a rat and ending up a father to infants on the run from aliens, he probably never got the chance to go to the library or use the Internet to look up information on how to feed a half-human half-turtle hybrid baby.

(Not that the Internet had forums for that yet. Was the internet prevalent in 2012…?)

So he just. Fed them turtle food and hoped for the best.

(The Japanese are know for eating insects. And algae is commonly used in all kinds of their recipes. For Americans, it sounds crazy. For Splinter, it was just an adaption of his own diet in the hopes of providing his mutant children with safe, normal turtle food.)

By the time they were kids, they’d probably just gotten used to a routine. We really have no proof that algae and worms is bad for the turtles. Tastes yucky? Maybe. But humans eat plants and bugs too.

Splinter was likely just working with what he knew.

But I don’t think they only ever ate algea. Don’t get me wrong-

The theory is totally understandable. I was onboard for this claim for a while myself. Then, I rewatched Lone Rat and Cubs. (Bebés 🥰🥰)

And he definitely introduces them to foods.

I’m seeing noodles, gyoza, (bamboo stick?), and he also throws down something yellow that I can’t recognize. We also see him collecting bread for them and dangling food over the little piranha children.

He continues to collect products for them. Maybe not the healthiest because he’s literally raiding trashcans but… He’s trying.

And then we have some popcorn proof that he’s still introducing them to human foods when they’re kiddos, with Mikey happily snacking on some while they’re in the dojo.

During the series, we see very little new introductions to foods. They eat romen, icecream, popcorn, and drink milk, tea, and other human things without so much as batting an eye.

Ergo, they’ve had human foods. They’ve just never had pizza.

Why do they act like such goobers when introduced to pizza?

BECAUSE THEY’RE GOOBERS, YOUR HONOR!!!

Though- they actually act similarly when introduced to pizza gyoza.

They hesitate. And then something explodes with how tasty it is.

But because this list is far to short to be a proper analysis, there’s also the point to be made for the first episode where they have an entire kitchen set-up going around them.

And I’m no New York Subway expert, but do they normally have kitchens set up within them? Probably not.

Which means that Splinter (and/or his sons) must have set this up. Why set up pantries, a fridge, and a stove if you did not intend to house foods or make foods to cook on them?

After all, the food on the plates appear fresh and raw.

They have an algae pool for harvesting in the lab. Why would they need to create an entire kitchen set-up simply to prepare them?

Also, they know how to use chopsticks for big and small foods. If they’d spent their entire lives eating small foods, it would be a teenie bit difficult to change the method of picking up a fatter breading than a tiny greenery or worm. Especially with mutant hands.

But they don’t hesitate. As if they have picked up larger foods before.

Also, also, they know what a cake is. What it’s supposed to be made out of. Hence why Leo knows what “icing” is.

I’m not normally that excited to taste something that I’ve never tried before (unless someone is hyping me up). It feel implied that they have and that’s why they’re disappointed that Mikey made one of not-cake substances and why Mikey looks like he has regrets.

Also, also, also- considering Splinter eats the algae and worms too, I don’t believe that he has the turtles on a purely algae based diet because he’d have to stick himself on one too. Man’s not a fan.

And he knows that other foods exist. So. Why would he?

In other words, my favorite analogy:

I hate Spinach salad. My mother used to make us eat Spinach salad.

Were there better things to eat than Spinach? Yeah.

Did mom even listen to that point? Nope.

But was it still technically good for me so I was forced to stomach Spinach salad until I was old enough to design my own diet?

You betcha. And I hated every minute of it 👍

So, to end this, I have to say that while algea and worms could have been (at maximum) a common meal for the turtles, I don’t think it was their only meal option. I’m not necessarily saying it was the best idea or the tastiest meal for a birthday-type celebration, but the turtles definitely had outside food exposure.

Do with this knowledge what you will.

[beat-the-morning]

Depression interrupted || Hozier x reader

Kinktober - Day 6: Interruption

Prompt List

Tags: interruption, spit, mentions of depression, multiple orgasms, long introduction, reader has depression, nipple sucking, hickeys, references to possible suicide, fluff, hurt/comfort kinda because the hurt is like 2 paragraphs and the comfort is the rest of the fic

Summary: You’ve been on a depressive episode for the past couple weeks, and while Andrew had given you the space you requested, his anxiety gets the better of him when you stop answering your phone. So he goes to your apartment and finds a pleasant surprise.

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: this one’s a long one chat idk what to say i got really into it. There’s nothing explicit that isnt the smut itself so don’t worry about it💙

||💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙||

You had been in a slight depressive rut for these past few weeks, you didn’t know why exactly, but two and a half weeks ago you started feeling so incredibly sad that your brain decided it was best if you isolated yourself for a while, you worked from home anyway so it wasn’t like you’d be missing work if you decided to bedrot for a couple days until you felt better. But the “couple days” had now become seventeen days of not leaving the house and doing the bare minimum communication with your friends and family so they’d know you weren’t dead. This trend of lacklustre communication had also extended to your boyfriend, Andrew, who had been worried sick about you since you started answering to his messages less and less and not talking much during your calls.

He’d wanted to come see you sooner, but between making new songs and having meetings for his next album, he had been too busy to do anything that wasn’t working until a couple days ago. You had told him to not worry, that you just needed to be alone for a bit, and he decided to just let you be for a bit, checking in on you at least twice a day, usually more, and feeling his anxiety dissipate when you answered. His brain was divided, he did want you to have your own space and to let you figure this out on your own like you had before, but at the same time he was worried, your depressive episodes had never lasted more than four or five days since you started dating, and he’d always helped you through them, so why were you so distant now? And why for so long? Were you planning something? Andrew felt a knot in his stomach at the thought of you doing anything to hurt yourself, he grabbed his phone and messaged you, an admittedly cheesy message, but it was the only way he had of hiding how incredibly anxious he truly felt.

Andrew:

how are you feeling my love? can we call? id love to hear your voice i miss you so much baby <3] </blockquote>

You didn’t answer, didn’t even read his message, for the next hour Andrew sat on his couch waiting for you to message him or even to leave him on read so he’d know you’re still there. His anxiety created worse and worse scenarios in his head, he knew the most probable reason as to why you hadn’t answered yet was that you were asleep, but the little worm in his head told him a more sinister story, so he called you. You didn’t answer. He tried again. Voicemail. Third time. No answer. He knew that you would still get notifications from him and that your phone would still ring if it was a call from him even when you had it on Do Not Disturb, so why weren’t you answering? He called over and over again for the next hour, by his twenty-third call he was stressed out of his mind, he didn’t know what to do, but the call didn’t go to voicemail this time.

“Sorry, the number you’re trying to reach is off or without signal, please try again later.” Said the robotic voice over the phone. That settled it for Andrew, he took his keys and the copy he had of yours “for emergencies” and got in his car with the intention of driving it to your house and checking in on you in person.

While all of this had been happening, you had been sleeping on the couch while your phone was in your bedroom supposedly charging, or it would be if you had remembered to plug it in. You woke up a bit after your phone had, unbeknownst to you, fully ran out of battery. You staggered over to your bedroom once more, your feet dragging along the floor of your small one-bedroom apartment. You threw yourself on your bed, not even bothering to check your phone before curling in on yourself and trying to fall asleep again, tossing and turning in your bed for a couple minutes before you decided to just masturbate to help you fall asleep again. Laying on your back, your hand sauntered downwards on your body, slipping under your pants and underwear and in between your folds, you gasped softly at your own touch, having not done this since your depressive episode took hold. Slowly, you started flicking your clit, you couldn’t be bothered to look for your toy so your hands would have to do. Your free hand moved up under your shirt and to your chest, squeezing your breast though your bra and making you gasp again. Soft, quiet whimpers and moans escaped your lips as you slowly played with yourself.

Andrew was driving to your apartment at a record pace while still being careful enough that he wouldn’t break any laws, finishing what would normally be a 45 minute ride in 35. He parked the closest he could to your building and, as calmly as he could, speed-walked over to your building’s door, opened it, and went inside. He took the elevator to your floor, the fifth, and while it slowly moved, he repeated the same thought in his head over and over, that you were probably just asleep and that he was worrying for nothing, but he needed to make sure you were okay, he needed to see you, even if you hadn’t actually done anything to yourself he still wanted to hold you in his arms until you felt like yourself again. He’d missed you so much in just two weeks and the thought of not being beside you for another second hurt him. The elevator doors opened, he rushed to your door, unlocking it and stepping into your apartment.

It wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined it would be, but he hadn’t seen your room or the kitchen yet, so he knew there would still be some surprises for you two to clean later. He called your name, you didn’t answer, being too focused on your own moans in your bedroom to hear him speak or walk towards your bedroom door. Andrew leaned his ear against the door, hearing soft whimpers coming from inside, he felt his heart relax and break at the same time, his worst nightmare hadn’t come true, but you were, to his knowledge, crying in your bedroom by yourself. He slowly opened the door, his eyes looking for you in the dark space.

“Baby? I’m sorry I came here like this but you weren’t answering and I- oh.” He explained quickly as he slowly pushed the door open, his little apology coming to a halt as he saw you on the bed, your shirt and bra scrunched up over your chest revealing your breasts while your hand squeezed one of them. Your other hand having travelled to your cunt, idly playing with your clit. He felt his anxiety vanish completely, being replaced by insatiable love and lust for you.

You yelped at the sight of Andrew at your bedroom door, your hands stopping their movements and rushing to grab something to cover yourself with like he hadn’t seen you naked a million times over. “Andrew!” You screamed, “what are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my messages or my calls and then your phone ran out of battery so I came to see you.” He explained, a small smirk slowly appearing on his face. “Glad to see you’re okay, though.”

“I- I had it charging, did I not plug it in correctly?” You mumbled as you reached over to your nightstand, finally noticing that the charger wasn’t plugged into the wall. You noticed Andrew’s weight shift the mattress, then his arms around your waist pulling you close to him.

“Why didn’t you want to see me, baby?” He asked softly, burying his face in your hair.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you answered, your voice starting to shake as the tears formed in your eyes. “I’m a mess, I don’t want to burden you with my stupid brain.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed lovingly, making you turn around so you were looking at him. “Don’t say that, you could never burden me, ever. I love you, more than anything, and I want to be here for you for anything that you need help with. Especially this, okay?”

You nodded, a few tears leaving your eyes and running down your face.

“Don’t cry, baby,” he kissed your cheeks a couple times each. “Do you want to talk about something else to get your mind off the sad thoughts? Or do you want to vent for a bit?”

“Something else,” you practically whispered, making Andrew smile.

“Okay, how about we talk about what you were doing just before I came into the room, hm?”

You felt your face heat up as you heard his question. “I- ehm. I was… yeah.” You managed to stutter out.

“Do you want help finishing with it?” He asked, his voice dropping an octave lower.

You nodded meekly, feeling your blood rush to your cunt. He chuckled.

“How do you want the help, my love?” He asked, leaning closer. “Do you want my mouth? My fingers? My cock?”

“Cock.” You answered, your face heating up even more.

“Very well, then.” Andrew smiled lovingly, kissing your lips deeply, his tongue moving against your lips, asking for entrance.

You opened your mouth, he deepened the kiss immediately, you kissed back with just as much passion as him, your fingers tangling in his curls. He pulled back from your lips and started kissing down your jaw and neck, relishing in the sound of your soft moans.

“You smell like coffee,” he pointed out between kisses.

“I spilled some on myself this morning, it was worse before I showered.” You mumbled in response.

“You showered?” He asked.

“Shut up.” You pouted.

“I wasn’t teasing, love. I’m proud of you.” He smiled softly, his eyes looking into yours with nothing but love and understanding. He kissed you again, more gentle this time, then resumed his worshipping of your neck, making his way down to your collarbone. His hands pulled at your shirt, his lips leaving your skin for just long enough that he could take it off you, followed by your bra, leaving you completely topless. He fondled your breasts, pinching your nipples until they were hard and taking one of them into his mouth, sucking and nibbling while his fingers played with your other one.

Gently, you laid down on the bed, Andrew followed behind, trapping you below him. His mouth moved to your other nipple, the coldness of the air hitting your wet peak making you gasp and goosebumps form in your skin. He chuckled, kissing your skin a few more times before pulling back and taking his own sweater and undershirt off. You smiled at the sight of him, he smiled back.

“There’s that smile I missed.” He said in a loving whisper, leaning closer to you when he noticed your hands reaching out to touch him. He hummed softly, closing his eyes for a second to fully focus on the feeling of your hands on him. You caressed his torso, stopping to grasp and squeeze his man boobs and his chubby stomach, making him laugh again. “Always with that.” He teased.

“Let me be, I like it.” You teased back, trying not to giggle.

“Not complaining,” he leaned down to place a peck on your lips with a smile. “Just making an observation.”

“Sure it was.” You giggled softly, Andrew smiled lovingly as he slowly kissed down your body.

“Have you been taking your birth control?” He asked once his hands started pulling down on your pants.

You shook your head, you hadn’t taken it since this episode started. “I don’t have any condoms either…” you added softly.

“Yeah you do,” Andrew argued with a crooked smile, standing up and taking a box of condoms from the drawer on your bedside table.

“I didn’t buy those,” you felt your face heating up again.

“I know, I did,” he chuckled as he started unbuckling his belt, “put them there just in case, too.” He threw the belt off somewhere in your room, taking off his jeans and boxers in one movement, his cock springing free from its confines, already hard and leaking. He took one of the condoms from the box, opening it and rolling it onto his cock.

He positioned himself between your legs, taking your pants and underwear off you as quickly as he could, running his fingers up and down your slit to see how wet you were.

“You’re dripping,” he growled, “all for me?” He added teasingly.

“Yeah,” you moaned softly.

“Did you even come before I interrupted you? Or since we last saw each other at all?” He asked, his voice deep and sultry. You shook your head in response, he chuckled and mockingly pouted, his hands moving your legs apart and positioning his length at your entrance. “Oh, my poor baby, almost three weeks without an orgasm, how did you even manage?”

“Shut up and fuck me already,” you whined needily, “please.”

“Demanding little brat,” he scolded playfully, thrusting himself complaining into your pussy in one single thrust and making you scream in pleasure. You tried to catch your breath, feeling your walls stretch around him in the most pleasurable pain to accommodate to his size. He stood still, buried to the hilt in your heat, drunk on the sound of your quiet gasps. “God, baby, you feel so fucking good, I almost wish I wasn’t wearing a condom right now.” He chuckled softly as he leaned in to kiss you.

You kissed back, moving your hips ever so slightly to silently tell him to start moving. He listened, thrusting languidly in and out of you. “Faster, please,” you mumbled between soft moans.

“How much faster, baby?” He asked, kissing your neck passionately. “Do you want me to ruin you completely? Because I know I want to.”

“Yes, please,” you begged in between breathy moans, “oh my God, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

Andrew smiled, biting and sucking softly at your pulse point, leaving a mark for everyone to see. His pace quickened, becoming relentless and unstoppable as your nails left their mark on his back. Your bed shook with the intensity, your moaning resounding against the bedroom walls. He kissed your body in any place where he could reach, enjoying the sound of your cries of pleasure as he lost himself in you.

He grabbed your leg, moving it so your ankle was on his shoulder allowing his cock to hit on the right spot to drive you crazy. He looked at your tits, bouncing as he thrust into you, your face contorted in pleasure. His hand that wasn’t holding your leg moved to squeeze your breast, twisting and pulling your nipple to make you scream like he liked you to. He growled as you moaned louder and louder.

He kissed what he could reach of your leg, wanting desperately to always have his lips somewhere on you. His hand moved from your breast to your lips parting them with his fingers and pushing two of them into your mouth. You sucked out of instinct, eliciting a deep moan from Andrew. His fingers slowly thrusted in and out, muffling your moans, then he pulled them out, holding your mouth open by your chin, he leaned in, his face hovering over yours. He gathered saliva in his mouth, then slightly parted his own lips, letting his spit fall from his mouth to yours, shutting it closed right after. “Swallow it.” He ordered, leaving no room for argument, his relentless thrusts still shaking you and the bed. You obeyed, swallowing it without looking away from his eyes. He opened your mouth again, doing the same thing he just did and spitting into your mouth once more, this time you shut your mouth by yourself and swallowed without him having to tell you. He smiled, caressing your face lovingly. “Good girl, that’s it, you’re so good for me, baby. So fucking perfect.”

You felt the twist of climax forming in your lower tummy, your moans mixing with whimpers. Andrew slightly changed the posture just enough so his pelvis would hit against your clit with every thrust. You felt the coil quickly tightening more and more until it snapped without a warning. You clenched around Andrew’s cock in your orgasmic bliss, your juices spilling out of your cunt around him, making a mess on the bed. “Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You begged even as your climax washed over you.

“You want another one, baby?” He teased lightly, feeling like he was on cloud nine just from hearing you beg for another orgasm.

“Yeah… please?” You begged desperately. “Please, Andy, I’ll be good, please!”

“You know I can’t say no to you, my perfect angel.”

His hand moved to your clit, flicking it rapidly while his thrusts became irregular and twitchy because of his own oncoming orgasm. You felt your second climax creep up on you again, your legs shaking from the overstimulation and your moans turning completely into whines and whimpers.

“Almost there, baby, come with me, that’s it.” He cooed gently, guiding you towards your next orgasm. “Such a pretty sight, my darling girl, so pretty for me.”

You came at the sound of his voice, clenching around him once more as he buried himself deep in you, stopping his movement and spilling his seed into the condom. You both breathed deeply, trying to catch your respective breaths.

Andrew pulled out of you, letting you lay in bed while he took off his condom and tied a knot on it before throwing it in the trash. He put his boxers back on, sitting back on the bed and caressing your body with love and care. “How are you feeling, love?” He asked softly.

“Good,” you smiled, “better than I have in the past couple weeks.”

“I’m glad,” he kissed your cheek, “go to the bathroom, baby, you know you have to.” He reminded you. You nodded, standing up from the bed and making your way out of the bedroom, stopping at the door when Andrew called your name. “Can you make me some coffee, please? Only if you feel like it, I can make it myself if not.” He asked.

“I’ll make you some, don’t worry about it.” You smiled, leaving the bedroom, closing the door, and walking into the only bathroom in your apartment. You cleaned yourself up, put on new clothes that had been on the folding pile since the week before last, and went into the kitchen to make coffee for Andrew. You heard some noises coming from your room, which you assumed was Andrew trying to find his clothes between all the mess that had accumulated in there for the past two and a half weeks. You finished the coffee after a while, having made it in an Italian coffee press since you knew Andrew didn’t have one but liked how coffee tasted when made in one, poured it in a cup and made your way back to your bedroom. You opened the door to find most of the mess gone, the windows opened and lighting up the room once more.

“What the..?” You mumbled softly, seeing Andrew throw the last of your clothes that had been scattered across the floor into your hamper.

“I know you don’t have the energy to clean right now,” he said softly, taking the coffee from your hands and taking a sip, “so I thought I’d help a bit.”

“You didn’t have to.” You said, feeling tears prickling up in your eyes.

“I wanted to, though,” he assured you, leaving the coffee on your dresser and holding your face in his hands and wiping away the tears that had fallen from your eyes. “I love you, I want to help you. So let me.”

You hugged him tightly, “thank you,” you sobbed lightly, overwhelmed by the amount of love you were getting from him. “I love you too, I love you so much.”

“Don’t cry, angel,” he kissed your head. “Let’s cuddle for a bit, then we can go out somewhere if you want or we can stay here and watch a movie or something, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded into his chest, letting yourself be guided into your bed once more and curling up in his embrace as you laid together, his fingers running along your hair and arms.

[satoruhour]

LEGIT JUST DASHED HERE FKJAKJLASDFKJL

TA! Nanami won't leave my brain so pleaseeee 🥺just him assisting you with lab reports by eating you out

❄️

(ANYTHING BUT) LAB HELP

a/n: icy you got me thinkin about my own TA and the failures in which i am too scared to cop him 😭😭😭 / this was purely fuelled by my own carnal need for nanami after last week’s episode because WHEEEEEWWW !

wc: 5.5k

warnings: fem!reader, TA!nanami, reader is a big simp for nanami but vice versa too, reader has long hair in this, slight age gap? since nanami is a TA (27 / 22), m! masturbation, fantasising, semi-public masturbation, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, fingering, hair pulling, little praise, degradation, use of ‘slut’, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the first time your TA walked in, your jaw drops. with a face and body like that, he should rightfully be in the modelling industry, not teaching you about dissecting and suturing mice and looking at atoms under a microscope.

all you know is that nanami kento was just like every teaching assistant — attending lectures just like the rest of the students, taking down notes for his tutorial and lab sessions, answering curious emails from everyone — but every interaction you had with this man was anything but normal, or at least that’s what you felt.

you’ve never viewed someone in such a deranged and filthy way before: pulling on his blonde hair and taking off that hideous cheetah print tie and telling him to his face that wearing a full suit while teaching makes him insanely older than he actually is; and also maybe after that, to push him right down to your cunt where he’d eat you out like you deserve.

“i just don’t get why he needs to use a suit at twenty seven years old just to teach — you’re doing your masters, like calm down a little.” you mumble more to yourself than your friend, but she likes every juicy detail you have about this attractive TA you keep talking about even if you sound like you hate him with how much you talk about the damn suit all the time.

but your friend only knows that if you could get his trousers, suit jacket, tie and shirt off of him, you would in a blink of an eye.

“maybe he wants to impress.”

your mouth twists, “who? only person he should be impressing is me.”

it’s all in good fun, with the way you’re talking — in reality, you don’t know what you’d do if the opportunity really presented itself to you. gossip, your legacy (or shame) carried by mouth, expulsion from the university, there were countless of unfortunate things if you do decide to go for the teaching assistant meant purely to help students in better understanding the material.

but it wasn’t one-sided. all those glances you thought nanami was sending you weren’t imagined, nor was it because you thought he was squinting due to bad eyesight. he remembers your name from the first tutorial he taught you, caught you lingering around the lecture hall, helps you a little too much during lab sessions and every time, he’s inexplicably drawn to you and your aura.

“good afternoon, ladies,” the familiar deep and collected voice snaps you out of the conversation, heart beating a hundred miles. you were in no way prepared for this, but you’re grateful for even one meeting out of class. your friend is insufferable though — from your peripheral you can see her giving the two of you a sick grin, “any chance i could ask for directions to this particular room?”

that was another thing; nanami wasn’t from this university. having completed his degree in another, he took his masters in the one you’re attending, wanting a breath of fresh air from the four years of his time in kyoto. that’s what you remember from his introduction, amongst many other things: he liked neutral colours, he’s interested in the philosophy of aesthetics, and he loved bread.

“babe, i’m going to head off for a class,” lies. she had no classes today at all, “see you tomorrow!” she bows briefly to nanami who only shoots her a tender smile and you turn to the side to bite your fist. you’ve become good at containing your reactions, though.

“oh! nanami-san, of course. headed there for a class?”

what kind of stupid question is that? of course he w—

“i’m heading there for a seminar, actually, starts in about,” he checks his watch, “10 minutes. the uni invited an external professor to give a talk that merges both the philosophical aspects of questioning life alongside the functions of the body, sparking thoughts of science and philosophy. thought it’d be interesting.”

you swallow and you swear you can feel your core pulsing. hot, intelligent and always pushing the boundaries and capacity of learning? you could only thank the gods that it was a cooler day, not being able to do anything if you actually do melt into a puddle.

“y-yeah! yeah, i know where it is.” you don’t, but the rooms are usually lined up pretty nicely, and you know you would be able to guide him successfully without much trouble; but when you’re checking the seminar room, you realise that they may have changed venues.

“crap . . five minutes. nanami-san, do you think maybe they sent a follow-up email with the change in location?” you’re more on edge than nanami is because you usually don’t like to be late for anything, recalling the jumble of numbers and letters he showed you earlier and lining them with the label plates outside the room.

“uh— oh, shit. yeah, i might’ve shown you the wrong email.” your jaw drops when you see the new venue.

“that’s . . on the other side of campus, nanami-san.”

“how long will it take?”

you wince at the disappointment on his face, “if you take the campus bus, at least fifteen minutes.”

nanami’s understandably mad at himself for his own mistake, knowing he’d miss a good chunk of the talk whilst travelling there, but he’s distracted from his self-loathing — taken aback at the quickness in which you offer to drive him.

“uh . . it’s probably maybe eight minutes there by car. my car’s parked close by if you want a lift—”

and nanami thinks it’s simultaneously the perfect and terrible day to send his car to the mechanics and settle for public transport. perfect because he might accept your offer to be close to you, terrible because he would much rather you sit in the passenger sit of his car rather than the other way around.

nanami forgets to be modest in your presence, so he accepts it without a second beat and follows you in a jog to the parking lot. there are scattered vehicles, possibly belonging to professors and maybe students, and the both of you come to an everyday looking corolla.

“okay! unlocked. i’ll try to speed and get you there in four minutes.” nanami can only manage a soft thank you, touched by your generosity and even more drawn by the determination in your face. with a turn of the ignition key, the man clutches onto the seatbelt as you lurch forward with the acceleration, and then you’re taking off.

you’re not the best driver, driving past yellow lights and terrible at changing lanes, but you get the job done. coming to rest in front of the humanities block, you’re arriving with the seminar starting just two minutes ago, and nanami looks at you like you just moved the moon and stars for him.

“thank you, (y/n)-san, truly,” he’s out of breath, maybe a little shaken up from the drive but it’s nothing he isn’t used to (gojo sucks too), “how can i repay you?”

you shake your hand, “a-ah, no it’s nothing. it was just an eight minute drive compressed into four.”

“no, really, let me pay back the favour.”

you bit your lip — you can’t possibly say the thing that’s on your mind. he would report you, you would have to be kicked out, your future crumbling before your eyes — you go for the tamer request.

“lunch, one day, then.”

nanami smiles at you and you feel like it’s cupid shooting his shot straight into your heart. you hardly see the man, smile, ever, so to have a genuine one directed at you made you squeeze your thighs together. there’s hope bubbling in nanami’s heart when he sees the effect of his smile: a glint in your eye and the quickened breaths, he may have thought your thighs move, too, but he didn’t have the balls to glance down to the one place he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.

“how ’bout right after the seminar?” fuck. you’re grinning now and you see a little of nanami’s teeth in an amused smile.

“sure, nanami-san,” adrenaline sends you reeling, eyes boring so tirelessly into his that you wish he’d understand all the things you want him to do to you. he peeks a quick glimpse of your lips as they lick it before unbuckling his seatbelt, popping open the passenger door to head out. your hand instinctively goes up to stop him, “or should i say . . passenger princess.”

that prompts a full grin out of your TA, who lets out an attractive chuckle before leaving from your car, “sure, whatever you want to call me.”

you’re driving away happily, kicking your feet once you’re parked in another car park and giggling to yourself. unbeknownst to you of the small little thing nanami says after, “although i’d like it if you call me yours.”

the spiral starts from there. it was approximately two hours — you have two hours of going back to the dorms to choose something you knew you looked good in while continuing to text your friend in excitement. it was chaos between the hours of eleven to one pm, rummaging through your closet to find something suitable. you went through many rounds of outfits and with each photo to your friend you were losing hope.

“‘let’s just stick with the first’?” you scoff loudly after reading out her feedback, typing out a reply to your friend. it sounded a little agitated but you can’t help but heart the message wishing you a good luck.

before you know it, you’re hearing a knock on the window, greeted with the very nice sight of his suit jacket now removed and his blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. it’s like he’s heard your thoughts too because even his ugly tie is bundled up in his hand.

“the AC wasn’t working.” he simply explains, once he’s in the car and he appreciates your gesture of turning yours to the max. you let your eyes rake over his figure, the pull of his shirt that looks too tight for him and the lines of his forearms, before he finally gets settled in and begs your eye contact.

“bummer,” you click your tongue, “but well, any places you have in mind?”

you start the car, pulling out of the lobby and nanami playfully hums, “not going to listen to your passenger princess’ struggles? do you hate women perhaps?”

“nah, i’m a toxic man who doesn’t care about his girl’s life.” that draws a laugh out of nanami, who sinks more into the seat. he’s more relaxed here than in class, than in lectures and it’s a nice sight to behold.

he echoes your sentiment with a small smile, “bummer.”

you both settle on an eatery pretty easily, with nanami keeping his promise of paying for your lunch (you made sure to pay back just a little with some bread, though, because how does a simple car lift equate to a whole lunch?). he was everything you thought him out to be: insanely insightful and smart; on a more physical level, jacked with such a pretty voice to the point you let him ramble about the seminar. it was the most animated you’ve seen him act.

since then, he’s become more open to accepting food items and hangouts with his students, although they never really hit like the first lunch he’s had with you. it was detrimental to his teaching, really, even now where he glares at your lab partner who you’re laughing with. it makes his stomach turn with jealousy, even as you exchange nudges while completing your worksheets.

he figures he can’t do anything but wait for you to initiate, mind muddled with thoughts of you and the possibility you were just being a nice person from what you did before, until you’re interrupting him from his rage-fuelled cleaning of the lab with a tap to his shoulder.

“nanami-san?” the students have filed out by now, a shell of what used to be a lab full of students groaning at the innards of the rats they were cutting open and the whispers of confusion at how to sew them back up.

“what is it?” he turns around too fast, almost knowing over a beaker by accident and when his hand goes over to catch it, you stabilise it as well. your hand encases his, the both of you resisting the urge to smile while you try to remember the question you so desperately tried to think of; anything to just talk to him.

“this is about um . . last week’s experiment about gas chromatography.”

“yeah?” nanami leans against the table, arms crossed and all and suddenly looking too buff that you feel a little lightheaded. his eyes skim over your body, a tight fitting shirt that accentuates your tits whilst you have some yoga pants on and if he bent you over, he’s confident he can see your pussy lips from behind the fabric. he knows it’s because you had a yoga class this morning, because he’s too invested in your life and you willingly give him what he wants.

“if the two mixtures contained the same alcohols but filled up to different amounts, do you know a method via the gas chromatogram to distinguish between the two mixtures?”

“uhm—”

nanami looks collected but he is sweating, approached at such a random time that he doesn’t have time to prepare except stutter through his answer. you don’t notice how you’ve been stepping closer and closer to him, either, until you’re an inch from one another.

“oh! alright, that makes sense.”

“anything else?” your TA looks down at you, hands just itching to bring you in. the lab is so quiet, now, save for the shuffling feet of the students outside but thankfully the windows are opaque. you could probably hear a pin drop if it wasn’t for your hearts pounding so loudly in your chests. your finger twitches with your incomplete lab report.

“right— well, yes, i was asking if you c—”

“babe!” the lab door slides open at the same time your friend calls out to you and you cough in embarrassment. nanami only clears his throat as the two of you step away and your cheeks burn, and he has to loosen the tie around his neck just for a bit.

“you told me to wait for you outside, right? well you were taking too long and . .” the other only continues his ‘task’ of cleaning up, looking anywhere but your direction as she continues to ramble, but he doesn’t miss the look of recognition on your friend’s face.

she mouths to you— i’m so sorry for interrupting, before she has half a mind to say something out loud and you’re clasping your hand over her mouth and ushering her outside hurriedly.

“shush— okay, thanks mr. nanami-san!”

he only waves a hand in farewell, but as soon as the door closes he collapses onto the seat. with head in hands, his mind wanders to the proximity in which the two of you were engaged in and the very, very uncomfortable boner in his pants. he’s so big that everyone can probably see it, frozen in place as he gets a sick idea.

“yeah, i told you to wait for me but not to barge in like that— oh my god! you should go on the records for having the worst timing ever.” you aren’t entirely disappointed, but it did seem like a good opportunity. you’re partly glad, too, because your mind now feeds you countless scenarios of nanami’s expressions turning into disgust and shock.

“dang, i’m sorry, but we do have to get going if we want to make it in time for that cafe event.”

your mouth twists, “yeah, i guess so.”

“if it makes you feel better, maybe he’ll want you more after this interruption.” she winks and you shove her playfully.

“now, you’re just trying to justify your bad timing!”

in that short time, you’re unaware that nanami has unzipped his pants and pulled out his hard-on through the hole of his boxers, insanely hard and body burning with regret. “lord, forgive me.”

he imagines you propped up on the (clean) lab tables, feet on his shoulders as he eats you out from below, or even hitting it from the back as he “helps” you with your lab report in the dorm, knowing damn well you won’t get anything done, or maybe even your mouth full of his throbbing cock sucking him off as he teaches.

nanami strokes his length in the empty lab room, knowing there wasn’t any classes any time soon from how often he’s looked at the timetables. there, he simply pumps himself under the table, biting at his shirt sleeves to muffle his grunts that he drools. it drops to the table, but he’s caring not one bit, because the feel of his hands just feel too good against him and the images of you only get lewder and lewder.

“s-shit . .” nanami swears quietly, hoping the slickness of his pre-cum doesn’t give him away, squeezing and moving his hands faster along his cock. his tip’s so sensitive — what would your mouth or pussy feel like? would you have let him rip your tights and fuck you silly just now? his hips are bucking into his hands, now, thinking of turning your sweet, sweet smile into something of pure sex, and before he knows it, he’s shooting his load onto the floor with a loud groan, thumbing his tip shakily. nanami’s breaths are ragged, guilt burning him alive while he washes his hand at the sink beside the tables and crouches to the floor, cleaning up after himself — nanami definitely wouldn’t be able to face you after this.

he was right. his mind was flooded with you in obscene positions and your saccharine voice twisted into moans and whines, he wonders if you taste as good as the pineapple juice he had the other day. even in tutorials, the students were wondering why the AC was turned up so high, because one glance from you made him hot and bothered. he liked to book it straight out of class, too, directing all questions to his email which he highlights very clearly in his slides, muttering something about being on a tight deadline with his thesis for his masters, but it’s never that serious — he’s usually heading back to quell the uncomfortable boner in his pants.

“prof? nanami-san?” you knew you’d find him in here in the professor’s office, probably going over lesson plans. your professor only shoots you a friendly greeting as nanami turns in his chair, he’s always happy to see his students while nanami swallows when you’re back in your yoga getup. it’s been a week, already?

“need anything, (y/n)?”

“oh, i need more of nanami-san, since it’s relating to my lab reports.” your professor usually conducted lab sessions, but nanami was the one to help with the reports, conveying the information of what to write and whatnot; well, it was also easier to talk someone who isn’t so intimidating and cool as your professor.

“kento, help me lock up after you’re done, alright?” your professor throws him the keys and you stifle a laugh at the way he stumbles out the door, “going home early to the wife, ahah . . guess i’m falling for her over again.”

that draws a laugh from both of you, bidding him goodbye with a smile on your faces before the mood turns tense again, and nanami looks up at you from his chair. you take him in: the manspread, the head tilt, the intentional (but you don’t know that) deep voice.

“yes, (y/n)?”

you gulp, remembering what your friend said — keep eye contact, slowly walk up to him, keep your voice nonchalant — it was easier said than done.

“cat got your tongue?”

you sputter and exclaim, “no— no i’m okay. i just wanted to ask about the alcohols used in the experiment last week.”

“ah, you’re still on that?”

his tone is laced with a slight disdain, possibly from how much he hates how you make him feel, coming in here to ask about your stupid lab report when he know you’re a bright student who hardly needs any help, coming in here like the two of you don’t want each other.

“y-yes, nanami-san.”

he stands and easily towers over you. from here, you can see his broad shoulders take up his shirt as he walks you back, buttons unbuttoned to reveal a bit of skin. you feel like prey being cornered, but nanami still has some sense of chivalry when he wraps an arm around your waist to prevent you from hitting the frosted glass door.

“mind telling me why your lab report from over two weeks ago is taking so long to be completed?”

reality seeps in for just a moment and his hand removes itself, hovering just over your body, “we still . . have a week to finish it up, nanami-san . .”

your TA takes a deep breath and you think that maybe that was the wrong answer, but all nanami does is step even closer to you and your hands have no choice but to rest on his toned chest. he can only hope no one can see your figure when you’re pressed flat against the frosted glass, but he knows this part of the uni is a little deserted this late in the afternoon.

“that’s not wrong . .” his voice is down to a whisper, closing his eyes for a moment when your hands travel over his chest. when he opens them again, they’re more than just the pretty, hazel ones you like to fantasise about, stained with a darker sort of lust that involves taking you, even if it meant doing it in the professor’s office. “but you’re always submitting it pretty early on, aren’t you? what changed, hm?”

you can feel his breath on your lips, wishing he would just take the first step because frankly, your pussy is throbbing and your body is already leaning into him even without his hand on your back. it feels natural like that.

“i got distracted.”

nanami’s breath moves from your lips to your neck, and you cheer in your head as he plants a gentle kiss there, but it’s not quite what you want. he hums into the crook of your neck, torturing you with wet kisses and sucking lightly.

“by what? your friend? or perhaps it’s some external commitment that’s taking up a lot of your time?” nanami already knows the answer but he enjoys the way you squirm. “what is it?”

by now, your hands are trailing up his body, wrapping around his neck and playing with his undercut. his skin is so soft and he smells so damn good, and he sighs at your hands.

“by someone, actually.” you bite the bullet, forcibly removing him from your neck which is definitely starting to show the obvious blue black on the skin there. his hands this whole time have been placed against the door behind you, but the carnal need is too prominent that he wraps that same arm around your middle. the other, on your nape; the sheer size of his hand makes you whine and nanami smiles at that.

“mind telling me who is it? maybe i could give them a good talk, tell them to stop tormenting my smart girl.”

that draws out a visceral reaction from you, melting into his arms at the simple praise. nanami helps you a little, leaning in with an expression as needy as yours.

“you’re gonna talk to yourself?” a laugh is the last thing you hear before he crashes his lips against yours, a hand smartly going to the door to flip the lock before he pulls you flush against him. you moan softly when you feel his hard-on, against your front, manhandled easy by nanami’s arms as he whips you around to walk you to your professor’s desk.

“do you think he’ll sue us?” nanami kisses down your neck with him between your legs, hands fondling every inch of your body while you grind up against his pelvis. with such thin material such as your yoga tights between you, it feels so damn good.

“at most he’ll remove me as TA . .” as he speaks, you can feel the vibrations along your skin, legs instinctively bringing him closer. he doesn’t let you, instead pulling away from your body and goes to his knees, seeing just how soaked you are. he thanks god you weren’t wearing black, because there’s a wet patch that leaks too much — it’s clear you didn’t bother to wear underwear at all. “but that is if he finds out about this, right?”

you smile, feet pushing at his back towards your dripping cunt and you moan softly when he licks at your pussy through the fabric.

“yeah— yeah i guess so,” you’re then expecting his hands to pull at your waistband and you lift your hips knowingly, but you hear a stark riiip! that echoes throughout the office and you gasp, too focused on his pretty face to notice he’s dug his fingers into the yoga tights to tear it at your centre. the action turns you on, entirely sure you felt your pussy flutter at the sheer strength that he had.

“i’ll buy you new ones, baby,” nanami presses a gentle kiss against your clit and you shiver at the contact, hot breath threatening your demise by his hand, “they’re of terrible quality, by the way.”

you huff, “yeah, you kinda ripped it, nanami-san. plus, what’s terrible — not in quality but in looks — is your tie.”

nanami chuckles, caressing your inner thighs with gentle fingers, blowing lightly on your cunt, “personal vendetta against cheetahs?”

that sends shivers along your whole body, “n-no, just don’t really like the look of it.”

nanami hums, “i’m wounded.”

“you’ll live.”

he only laughs again, “okay, enough talking. i’m starving.” and starving he was — he latches his mouth onto your clit like a vice, sucking and flicking his tongue relentlessly you have no choice but to cry out his name. “taste so fucking sweet,” the sudden swear catches you off-guard, paired with the rasped voice and your hips willingly hump his mouth, “pussy made for me.”

“don’t say shit like that . .” you whine, embarrassed at the filthiness of his words and yet you’re sat here on a desk, pushing your sex more and more into his lips. “it’s embarrassin’.”

nanami clicks his tongue, “you’re still here.”

“yeah, shut up.” you push him further into your cunt to silence him, a loud moan leaving your lips as nanami slobbers over you — you’re so wet, spilling onto the floor. without warning, nanami slips a finger into you, easing it in and the sheer thickness of it prompts more mewls from you.

“k—kento . .” you hear nanami groan at the first name basis, shoving his finger deeper into you. he pumps it as his tongue works overtime, the slickness of which your pussy sounds out echoing throughout the room. “i’m c-clos—”

that seems to fuel nanami further, memorising how your body feels under him. you clench repeatedly around his finger, thighs twitching against him while your whimpers increase in volume, just like your incoherent babbles.

“i’m g’nna— kento, i’m c—” your back arches when you gush all over his face, juices squirting and making a mess out of his hair. nanami groans into your sopping pussy, slurping up your arousal shamelessly as you continue to give him everything of you. you’re shaking around him, moans slowly dwindling due to shame. by now, you’ve soaked through the bottom of your tights, letting him rip the seams for a little more access.

“wanna hear you, baby.” he easily multitasks, turning you around while removing his underwear, looking back at him while you shimmy your ass back into him. with a low moan, nanami drags his tip over your folds, collecting your cum and pushing it in with it. the stretch makes your jaw drop and legs tremble, pussy still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

you hold on to the wooden desk to the best of your ability but your iron grip makes the wood creak a little; it isn’t long before nanami starts moving.

“f-fuck . . you’re so tight,” the lewdness of the situation, your ruined tights, your ass moving with the force of his hips has him gripping your hips harsher than intended. his cock is just so fat, hitting your spots effortlessly as he rams into you from behind, “will this be enough motivation for you to finish that lab report, hm?” your perked up ass is receiving all the abuse from his pelvis, rutted into with pure primal need as the slaps of his balls against you gets louder and louder, just like your moans.

“g-gonna need more than this, kento—!” you’re whining as he reaches around to rub at your clit, messy and fast, surely drawing marks down the once flawless wooden desk. he just hopes there’s no one who requires the professor’s assistance because there was a clear indication that the office was open with the shining ceiling light but he was in no condition to answer any questions without panting.

nanami pushes down your lower back, cockhead hitting your spots over and over, “need more? of course you do, fuckin’ slut.” it’s a total 180 from the gentle way he’s kissed you earlier — a choked whine and a clench of your pussy tells him you like it . “oh . . she’s cock drunk already, huh?”

“yesyesyes! mmff— kento, please . .” he pulls on your hair from behind, made easy by the ponytail you had it in and you moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure. he takes it a little easier, resting his large palm at your neck and pulling, together with your hair. nanami sucks at the same spot as earlier, and the overwhelming sensations has you both arching your back and fucking yourself back onto him.

“pretty arch you got here, darling,” he pants out, fucking so hard into you with his support that your hands don’t even need to rest on the table. nanami knows you’re already close by the way you’re unresponsive, mindless babbling leaving your mouth while you let him use your limp body. “is it all for m-me?”

“mhmh— it is, it is—” you’re fucked senseless, letting him turn your head to meet him in a sloppy kiss. by now your pussy juices are spurting all over the place, staining the floor and table, dripping down his balls where with every slam of his cock you can here the wet pap! pap! pap!’s of it.

“y—yeah i know it is; that’s all you are, aren‘t you? a little cocksleeve for me.” nanami groans out, letting go entirely before wrapping his arms around you and trapping you between his front and the table. he’s flush against your back, thrusts faltering with each plunge into your warm, tight pussy as he feels you clench tirelessly and you don’t even to say it before you’re jolting in his hold.

“cumming, i’m cumming . . fuuuck . .” your body is so sensitive, shaking around his cock that continues to move into you. you cum all over him, listening to the dirty whispers he’s dumping into your ears.

“oh . .” nanami groans, “that’s a good little slut, s-shit—” your hips continue to move even though your brain tells you to stop, hands making terrible effort at reaching for him.

“wan’ you to cum in me, kentoo—” your grip on his forearm is tight, pleading with your doe eyes and small voice that has nanami grunting out in a dilemma, but your pussy’s too warm that he cums suddenly. his voice reaches a higher register, stuttering pelvis rutting into you with the intent of breeding you; he pumps you full of his seed, ropes upon ropes of white filling your womb. it’s so thick that you shiver again, yelping softly when he pulls out.

“look at that . .” nanami marvels at the amount of cum he’s dumped into you, using a finger to scoop it up before pushing it back in that you jump from the coldness of his finger. “a smart girl turned so dumb just from cock.” you give him an intoxicated smile, lazy and hooded as you lay limp on the table.

“only for your cock, nanami-san . .” you lick a stripe up the palm of your hand and he indulges you by stepping closer. he moans softly as your hand makes contact with his shaft, “or should i say . . sir?”

nanami ended up driving you back to your dorm, helping you to your room from how sore you were after that.

[ebullientheart]

the nice guy. spencer reid x reader

content — fluff. humour. fem!bau!reader. casual mention of sex. loosely based on season four episode nine. case talk. nondescript injury to reader.

you explain to spence the difference between a nice guy and a ‘nice guy’.

“i don’t understand this.”

morgan spun on his chair, “what’s that, wonder boy?”

the files he was flicking through were baffling him. each of the interview transcripts read the same sort of thing. ‘oh, he was a textbook ‘nice guy’ you know’, or something to that effect.

you were the one conducting that set of witness interviews, and the text before him showed no confusion on your part as you continued your original line of questioning. concluding this meant you understood, spencer ignored derek’s response and instead got up to find you. predictably, in garcia’s office, watching unreleased films, seeing as your paperwork was long completed.

“can i ask you something?” he interjected, causing penelope to throw popcorn at him as a consequence of her surprise.

“can you knock?” she quipped back, but he wasn’t really listening to her. spencer could become pretty single minded when he set his focus on something, especially if it was something he didn’t understand.

you excused yourself and followed him into the hall. the simple window on your right showed nothing but the clouded night sky, meaning only a few people lingered in the office now. spencer turned the light on by reaching past your head to the switch, while you tried to ignore the way your stomach felt upon having him lean over you.

clearing your throat, you addressed him, “what did ya need, spence?”

he showed you what he’d been preoccupied with, “what does this mean? we profiled our unsub as desperate, creepy, and we were right. why did they all describe him as a nice guy?”

you pondered for a moment on how best to explain it to him before you answered.

“they’re kind of being sarcastic. a textbook ‘nice guy’ is a guy who really pities himself, quotes ‘nice guys finish last’, that sort of thing. he thinks he’s so kind, and for that women owe him sex, so when they don’t meet that standard, he just believes women only like jerks. he sees himself as good, but he doesn’t comprehend why women would take offence to his sexual reward system for human decency.”

spencer frowned, “there are enough of them that women have a collective name for this?”

you nodded, “trademarked and everything.”

“really?”

“no, kidding.”

he smiled at you and you returned it, his curiosity fulfilled and his faith in humanity slightly lessened, as it was case by case.

a few days later, you were all jetting off to another police department, examining files and bouncing theories. spencer sat on your left, the only one close enough to hear the low rumble of your stomach. chuckling to himself, he produced a breakfast bar from his satchel and slid it over to you. the overjoyed expression on your face at food, and food in your favourite flavour, prompted him to remember your ‘nice guy’ conversation.

you offered him your thanks and he answered, “you’re welcome. no sex required.”

even though he was half kidding, half sincere, you gave him a whole laugh, easy and unabashed. the smile he donned was satisfied at initiating such glee from you.

as the investigation progressed, the danger became more and more apparent. the team knew someone was going to end up hurt, but it didn’t stop them from flinching as they saw you swinging your legs in the back of an ambulance, taking emergency blood supply. you rolled your eyes at their concern, “really, i’m fine guys. just a scratch.”

they weren’t so quick to dismiss your injury, but they didn’t hover. they had protocol to follow, local cops to brief, and press to alert. the only one who lingered was spencer, awkwardly sitting next to you at your invitation. he thought about wrapping an arm around your bare shoulder as a chill set in the air, but was too afraid to dislodge the tube. you bit the bullet of his worrying and leaned until he was prompted to support you.

“are you alright?” he knew it wasn’t the right thing to ask you, but he wasn’t sure what else to say in that moment, not when you were pressed against him so the warmth from your body bled through his vest to his own skin.

you gave a light shrug, but didn’t comment further, instead saying, “you’re nice, spencer. the real way.”

he hummed, “how’d you know?”

“nice guy trademark would’ve tried to kiss me by now. you’re just holding me.”

he knew what he was about to admit was a risk, but the question burned in his throat, “what if i wanted to? kiss you?”

you looked up at him and his heart skipped a beat. if he tried, he could count every one of your eyelashes, even though a few were clumped together by smudges of mascara that had congealed in your initial reaction to the wound. there was a brightness in your irises that sparked something in his chest. the hand you could move freely came up to his face, which had become flushed. you could feel the heat beneath your palm, but couldn’t make it out visually with his back to the ambulance light.

“i’d think you’re even nicer.”

he didn’t seem all that surprised, “can i?”

“please.”

[hedwig221b]

For the fic recs, anything with babies please? Or just pregnant stiles?

I'm weeping I love kid!fics and mpreg!Stiles...

👶

Of Puppy Piles and Sugar Dreams by StarShineForMe

In which Isaac and Scott get de-aged, the pack must learn to bond and protect their own, and Derek ("Dewek!") and Stiles ("Sti-ewes!") are mates…even if it takes them forever and two toddlers to realize it. “Oh, God.” Stiles buries his face in his hands, water dripping down his wrists. “What? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Derek whips out a towel, wrapping it around Stiles’ forearms, pulling them away from Stiles’ body so he can look them over. “I’m fine,” Stiles says, a little blankly. Erica and Boyd have set Issac and Scott back onto the floor, tickling them both into fits of giggles. He huffs out a noise that’s not quite a whimper, not quite a laugh. “Just wondering when the hell I ended up in my very own episode of ‘Teen Mom’.”

The More That I Know You (the more I want to) by LadySlytherin

When death, in the form of hunters, comes for a family of Kelpies seeking refuge in the Preserve - in Hale territory - the Hale Pack is too late to save them. Before he dies, the male Kelpie presses a precious bundle into Stiles’ arms and begs the Emissary to take responsibility for it, which an initially reluctant Stiles does. When he agreed, Stiles had no idea what the sight of him with a baby would do to his esteemed Alpha, Derek. If he’d known, he might not have been so reluctant to agree.

The Alpha and his Spark by sandyde03

Stiles is pregnant. Derek is perpetually horny and possessive. Stiles is confused. Not by Derek sexing him up. He loves that. It’s the fact that ever since he started to show that he was with pup everyone has been avoiding his eyes.

Loving Isaac by QueenOfAngst21

A regular patrol around their land takes a turn for the worse when Derek and Isaac run into a unwanted visitor. Just when Derek thinks they are in the clear, he wakes to find not his beta beside him but a crying blonde haired baby right where he left Isaac. The pack stumbles over themselves as their alpha and emissary navigate this new dynamic and find each other along the way.

Last To Know by Never_Says_Die

Kink meme fill in which every werewolf and shapeshifter in Beacon Hills is aware that Stiles is pregnant before he is. And apparently the first baby!werewolf being born into the pack (their Alpha's, no less) is a big freakin' deal and excuse enough for everyone to lose their damn minds. When Stiles figures out why everyone's been acting so weird around him, he's not amused.

An Alpha's Baby by Dexterous_Sinistrous

It had been more than a year since Stiles had been home to Beacon Hills. Things didn't end well between him and Derek. And now, returning with a baby, Stiles starts to question if he really did the right thing and leave, or if he should have stayed.

Let your unfaithful weaving go by DarkAthena (seraphim_grace)

Every night Stiles goes into the feasting hall to work on the shroud he is making for his husband, knowing that the alphas circle him like sharks until he is inevitably forced to choose one to stand as his alpha and Eli's regent. It's been four years and he doesn't know how much longer he can do this.

Fire, Fury, and Flame by IAmAVeronica

Stiles Stilinski was never going to be the omega who got knocked up right after high school, and then he's accidentally artificially inseminated with a stranger's sperm. Awesome. And the father of Stiles's baby just so happens to be Derek Hale. Half-feral, quite possibly a murderer, and pursued by a gleefully sadistic band of hunters who are only too eager to use Stiles and his baby to hit Derek right where it hurts. Joy.

Shifts by gryvon

Stiles has what he's always secretly wanted - he's in a relationship with Derek and he's one of Derek's betas - but all that gets turned upside down when Gerard kidnaps him and his unexpected baby.

Be Strong by blacktofade

A hunter breaks into Stiles' house and Stiles deals with them.

Safe Place to Land by Green

The Hales have been tracking a group of hunters who've targeted small packs with the help of a magic user. When they finally attack the hunter compound, they aren't expecting to find Stiles, a Spark who's practically a slave, and his young werewolf son. Derek isn't expecting the Spark to be his mate, either.

Wolf Cub by moodwriter

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

Karma Is A Bitch by Brego_Mellon_Nin

Ironically, Stiles was just returning to his dorm after failed negotiations about a possible adoption agreement with a local pack, when he saw the fairy. She was cornered and he was unable to curb his protective instincts. The fight was short and Stiles was left with only a blooming bruise on his jaw when the bullies scurried away. As a thank you, the fairy wanted to grant him a wish. Who knew what a bit of fairy fertility magic could do?

Empty by DiscontentedWinter

Jordan Parrish is the new sheriff of Beacon Hills, a town haunted by its past.

Other fic recs: pack mom!Stiles | angsty fics | possessive Derek | historical AU | outsider POV | smut | mafia | hurt/comfort | magical!Stiles | Stiles gets kicked out of the pack | BAMF!Stiles | omegaverse | witch!Stiles | creature!Stiles | bad friend Scott | unrequited love | werewolf!Stiles

[mvltisstuff]

hi hi

idk if you’re accepting requests but if you are pls could i request an evan buckley where he has a gf/wife and a baby but the 118 doesn’t know, and maybe one day reader/kid is injured and they either turn up at the fire house or the 118 is called to the scene and buck has to come clean about his secret wife/gf and kid?

thank you bestie, i love your writing <3

lover - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

gif from @eddiemunsens

a/n: what tswift album do u guys think the 118 are 🤭 also what happens to yn is inspired by an episode of s19 that i love sm it’s so funny :))

buck knew the second y/n got pregnant that he wasn’t leaving. two years of dating is a short time to have a child, but they loved each other more than anyone. they knew they could give a child a good life, so they went with it.

all three of them moved to la, so buck could work with the LAFD and y/n could get to a higher position at work. their life there was immaculate. their little family was thriving, so buck put a ring on her finger. he didn’t even hesitate to buy the biggest one he saw, because he loved y/n the second he met her, and he emotionally couldn’t wait anymore. the words husband and wife rang in his ears, making him drop a dumbfounded grin.

no one at work knew, he didn’t really know what they thought of him. his team knew he was too fine to not have anyone, so they figured he was just with some girls here and there. the last thing they expected was a child and a fiancé along with it. it never came up in conversation, but buck still didn’t bother. he didn’t want to face any judgement from people that he didn’t already get from his family. the constant scrutiny about his age and his girl was exhausting.

now, neither of them would’ve changed it for the world. buck can’t imagine himself happier or in a life without them. it hurts him to even consider what would happen if y/n and his little boy weren’t there. he always gazed at them playing, sometimes just wanting to observe their brilliance.

buck knew he would have to explain to his team that he’s married, and that doesn’t mean he’s ashamed. he wants the world to know, but he doesn’t want y/n to be hurt by opinions from other people. he didn’t realize how soon he would have to until the alarm rang and until dispatch came through with the address. it was their house. the house where buck and y/n raised their son and the one where either could be hurt. every single scenario waved over buck, making him panic more by the second.

“you good, kid?” bobby asks, taking note of his bouncing knee.

“uh.. yeah! yeah, i’m fine,” he lies. buck hasn’t been with them for more than a year, so they just pass it along, not knowing any better. buck climbs out of the truck, grabbing a few tools before sprinting toward the house. now, the teams more alarmed. what is it about this house is making him act like a maniac?

“y/n?” buck calls out, running around trying to find her.

“kitchen!” she yells out, sounded distressed which only makes buck move even quicker. when he walks in, he immediately notices her leaning over the sink, her hand in the disposal. bobby and the rest of his crew walk in behind him, the four of them standing in the kitchen staring at her. “well?”

“oh-“ bobby moves, starting to gather some more tools out of his bag.

“what the hell happened?”

“i dropped my ring down, and i was trying to make him lunch,” she nods to the baby, sitting on the floor happily, clearly having no idea what’s happening. “i don’t even know why i tried to grab it, like some idiot!”

“hey,” buck says, walking over to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “you’ll be fine, y/s/n is fine, yeah?” she looks up at him and nods, brushing her hair with her free hand.

“should we know the kids name too?” chim asks, giving buck a completely bamboozled expression. y/n passes buck the same face as hen walks over to check her hand. buck can’t get around it this time, and he wants them to know for once.

“um, guys,” he starts. “this is my fiancé, y/n and my son.”

“your what?” hen shouts, peeking her head out from behind y/n’s shoulder. she gives hen an awkward smile and buck stands there stiffly, worried about their reaction. everyone looks around at each other in shock that buck has his own family, and they didn’t even know.

“why didn’t you tell us?” bobby wonders.

“because i didn’t know how you’d react! i’ve heard it all from my parents, i didn’t need any more.”

“buck, we would’ve welcomed you no matter what your home life is. we’d love to get to know you and your family despite how it might’ve happened,” hen tells him, kindly. buck is confronted with immediate love, something he’s not to familiar with other than when his shifts end and he’s in y/n’s arms again. he’s surprised to say the least. he expected at lease some judgement, but there was nothing of the sort in the room.

“i’m thrilled you’re all having a nice moment here,” y/n interrupts. “but can we maybe get my hand out of my sink?”

buck and bobby pull the cabinets open and start drilling at the pipes underneath. buck secures the ring in his fingers before beaming up at y/n, showing her that he found it. “i got it!” he replies excitedly. “thank god, i don’t know if i have insurance for this thing. cost me my left leg,” he whispers to bobby. once they fully disconnect the system, hen slowly drags her bloody hand out and wraps it up. she hisses at the contact of the gauze and antiseptics. chimney starts to clean up the rest of the supplies, as hen treats the wound.

“so,” chimney begins. “when’s the wedding?”

“time and place, chim,” hen tells him. “time and place. but, yeah, are we invited?”

“yes,” buck says, obviously. “you’re invited.” he moves over to scoop his baby off the ground, carrying him over to his friends. they all speak to him in their little baby voices, and y/n watches with a shining smile on her face. buck knows he did the right thing, but he wishes he didn’t wait as long. now, he is certain that he has two solid families.

[kanmom51]

Hi! I love reading your posts so much so I would like to know your thoughts on this:

https://x.com/smol_kia/status/1550222383075586048?t=1QUT02cleCrXVULBEegSjw&s=19

I saw some of us on X thanking this person for manifesting the toothbrushing scene which was funny but at the same time i am super confused on how jikook really did exactly the same as the fan art (the plaid pyjamas especially)! Do you think this was purely coincidence or one of them saw it and went 'let's make this to reality'?

English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if my ask is all over the place :) love ya!

Let's start with the end here why don't we?

JM and JK are the real thing. They have a real actual relationship unlike the dreamt up needing to lean on made up fanart relationship that Tkks delude themselves JK and Tae have.

That is the starting point.

Jikook are the real deal. A real life long term loving couple. TKK are not. Not a couple. Friends yes. At times closer at times not so much, but always and only friends.

So, let's talk about that fanart. It's from 2022. 22 July 22 to be accurate. I am literally feeling sick to my stomach at the moment, but I will share the photo, cause I'm going to be making a point here.

*At least they kept the JM in place (although they probably are deluded as to it's meaning...).

So, why is the date so important, you may ask.

Because that is the day ITS Friendcation came out.

And guess what we got in that first episode of the show.

Only the four friendliest of friends in their matchy plaid pj's.

Basically what we had was TKK's in their hazed daydreams wishing that instead of Tae sleeping together with his squad, to which a one Jeon Jungkook does not belong no matter how much they want to twist it (same crew that left JK at the ski resort by himself while leaving together), instead of Tae waking up with Wooga and their match plaid pj's and brushing teeth together, it would be JK there with him.

Like I say, dream on.

That fanart of theirs, is a dream not a reality, and they can scream until they are blue in the face, it won't change the fact that the one brushing his teeth with JK at the moment is JM, not Tae, by choice. JK choice. JM's choice. They both wanted it. They both planned it. They both worked towards it. And they are both living it right now.

I find it kind of funny how TKKs keep on screaming that JM and JK's travels are for the camera, not genuine, all for the buck. If that was true, if Jikook were indeed the 'fanservice' couple for BH, if Jikook were a money maker as a unit for the company, how is it that this cash machine has never been properly utilized. It always amuses me to hear this from them all while most of Jikook's interactions are off camera, not for us to intentionally see. This one unit that has never come to fruition officially (until now, and there is a reason for that and a reason why we are getting more now, none of which are them being 'faked' for the camera in order to make money).

I love how they twist everything to fit a constant changing narrative. I actually don't know how they keep up with themselves. It would be so exhausting.

I saw Mina's tweets. Will not share them here. I will not give that hateful ***** a platform here. All I will say is that it must be so very hard for her right now. Reality is hitting and it's hitting hard. I guess it's a last hurrah, an attempt to cling to their fantasy. Basically acting like a belligerent child having a tantrum.

If I didn't loath her and her kind I would actually pity them. They are going to be so very miserable in the upcoming months. Not to mention after they are all back from the military.

I guess these weirdos need to be reminded that JM and JK's Tokyo trip back in 2017 was not for the cameras. A trip eternalized with JK's GCFT, a trip they could not stop talking about, a trip they continued to talk about in their book under the title Real love.

I won't remind them of just how fondly JK was talking about their trip and the show, nor will I bring up that shining sun of a smile he had when JM says he'll hug him later, cause you know, these are basically fans that have no interest in what the idol they supposedly love (yeah, no love there) says or feels. It's about what they, as fans, want to feel dreaming about buff JK the fuckboy, bad boy, man handler and his dainty weak boyfriend Tae (with their love hate toxic jealousy drama filled relationship).

Excuse me for a sec...

I also guess they need to be reminded that not all of JM and JK's time together was filmed, not all of it was for the cameras, as they love to put it. Not in NY, and definitley not in Tokyo 2023. Funny how two people that were working on enlisting together and got to fulfill their wishes and make sure that the 18 months of their military service they are inseparable, even if that means a tougher placement than if they enlisted separately, still wanted to go on these trips together. I think that by now any claim that this was forced on them - the trips, the show, the enlistment - have been long disproved.

And for a couple that the company are 'trying to push on us' it's really funny how silent they have been since their enlistment. But yeah, these people will continue to say what they want because otherwise their dreams are dead. Kind of like Larry's that still think those two are a thing.

You know what else that fanart comes after, btw?

Not only the ITS friendcation, but also after this:

JK directing LGO MV choosing the couples pj's, choosing to have JM walk out of the bathroom brushing his teeth JK waiting for him in the bedroom.

Fanart is art (not that some of the fanart out there would be considered art by myself, but you know, that's a personal taste, or distaste, and that btw includes some Jikook fanart as well). It can replicate or express reality but it can also be an outright fantasy.

In this case it's TKKs seeing the reality (Wooga and Jikook) and expressing fantasy (their ideas or wishes applied onto TKK), lol.

And now we have JM and JK on their trip wearing these couples pj's.

What a blow that must have been for TKKs. And this whole scrambling thing they are doing, that this is "the company" copying their fanart. Absolutely hilarious.

Jikook have shown us over the years that they love plaid. Not gonna add pics here cause there is no end to them. JK, JM alone, together, plaid is something they have been doing. Specifically? Not necessarily. But it's something they wear.

Jikook themselves have worn plaid pj's in the past for LGO MV (and the live as well - do I remind you guys of JK's joke about why he decided to have JM brushing his teeth?). Director JK. Their choice.

The fanart TKKs are squealing about was not an original piece of art that a TKKer came up with. They literally copied the pajamas worn by the Woogas in ITS Friendcation inserting JK into their fantasy.

If people would watch original content they would know that Jikook, both of them, tend not to wear pj's at home. Not around the house and not in bed. We saw JM in ITS 2. We saw JK in his bed live (in which I would love to remind TKKs how flirty and naughty he was with JM all while being half naked in bed, nagging JM to do a live with him, all his choice, all knowing that the company will not be happy with him, lol - still waiting for that Jikook live, you know from the company's "for the cameras" couple). Oh, and we also have the LV live. Yeah, that was an interesting one. Seeing that not only did we hear from JM and Hobi that JM walks around in his undies at home but that JK is in charge of the soundtrack... I guess while he's in his undies as well...(JM's reaction to Hobi's slip up was priceless). Point being that those two don't do clothes for sleep. But clearly they couldn't go 'au natural' for the show, so they chose to wear pj's.

And just like the other clothes that they chose to wear throughout their travels, that we will get to see in the show, they chose to wear these pj's.

Couple pj's.

This is not a photo shoot. This is them coming from home with their own clothes wearing what they want to wear, what they feel comfortable in. And they chose to wear those pj's knowing EXACTLY how it will be perceived.

And just like Wooga chose to wear the plaid pj's, which btw were all identical, like the rings they wear, probably as a symbol of their friendship, all while NO ONE ever dared to claim that they were dressed by stylists or forced into wearing them or that the creators of the show even suggested the idea to them, JM and JK chose to wear these pj's that are not identical but seem to be perceived as couple's pj's.

Pajamas sold out of course, the company's caption at the bottom being: "How about watching the show together in couple pajamas?"

Their choice.

Their decision.

Filming themselves brushing their teeth - their decision.

I want to make something clear here. They have said it and I will repeat it. This is not a scripted show. This is them travelling, experiencing, enjoying themselves (you cannot fake those smiles and giggles), filming themselves. That angle, the camera in the bathroom, that is a camera they placed there, they wanted us to see this just like JK wanted to show us JM brushing his teeth and coming out to him in the bedroom.

Do I remind you what happened when a camera was placed in a room when they didn't want us to see what they were up to?

This is not 2018 anymore. This is 2024 (well, filmed end of 2023, and may I just note that after the new contracts were signed, and I do think this is highly relevant as to what we are going to be getting in this show, what we will be allowed to see, the level of candor). No more hidden cameras in rooms (I think the company had realized that was a dangerous game they were playing at), and their artists control over what will be filmed and what not.

Their choices, their decisions, not some company executive. Them. The two of them.

I will end this by saying that I doubt that Jikook are even aware of this TKK fanart.

But if they were, then this wouldn't be them copying the fanart trying to create the illusion they are a couple.

No need for an illusion when you ARE the real deal.

If, by any chance, they were aware of the fanart then I would say that any connection to it would be them saying a big FUCK YOU to TKKs and their delusions.

But yeah, I do doubt they were even aware of this pic.

JK's search logarithm is Jimin based. Not TKK. So keep dreaming TKKs, cause not only are TKK not the thing you so very much want them to be, the thought of that thing, them as a couple, you as a fan group, your art and fantasies, all those aren't even a blip on JM and JK's radars.

[phantasmicfish]

Long ranty list of stuff that majorly Sucked in s4 of tua:

- number one thing I loathe is the convenient way tua got their powers back. We get this brief vignette of them without their powers in episode 1, and then by the end of the episode they conveniently find the marigold and *voila* have powers. Where were the stakes? The consequences? Show me TUA struggling to adjust to powerless life. Five annoyed that he has to use the stairs to climb a four story building. Diego failing to chop expertly w knives. Luther struggling to open jars idk give me something. Don’t just do a six year time skip and ignore the mundane!

- Adding onto ^ that I feel like it would make more sense to me if we saw TUA without their powers for maybe 3 eps in s4, and they go through a mini Journey to get them back. Instead it’s like the entire hook of the s3 finale is immediately resolved in episode 1, it annoys me to no end

- Five working for the CIA I sorta get… cuz it’s sorta what he did with The Commission. So now unmoored and powerless he’d probably go back to that lifestyle. But Five, paranoid violent genius in the room Five, not noticing the completely obvious umbrella tattoo on his boss’ wrist?

- Jennifer being introduced, immediately shrugging off the fact that her entire town was murdered/a Truman Show sham, and joining Ben with basically zero questions

- Jennifer getting no character arc beyond she was born in a squid and she loves Ben

- Getting zero recognition that Reginald is an alien. Like. Hello?? You just found out your pos father is AN ALIEN! Are the siblings seriously not going to talk about this

- Also what year is s4 set in. Why do they always dial rotary phones but mention cryptocurrency? What is this universe where everybody knows Reginald and he’s colloquially referred to as “the elite?” Are Reginald and Abigail the… President and Vice President? King and Queen? Just some people who started a massive corporation and got rich?

- No mention of Grace is criminal. It would have made waaaaay more sense if the lady who played Abigail was actually played by Grace. And it would add some heart to Reginald as a character too. Otherwise, instead of secretly loving Grace his alien wife, Grace is just some woman who was alive in the 60s and Reginald made a replica robot mom of her in 2019. For some reason. Idk I feel like the puzzle pieces were all laid out and for some reason TUA writers did not assemble them

- No mention of Pogo or Ray is also incredibly disappointing. Allison betrayed her siblings in order to be with Claire AND with Ray in one universe, but he’s not even in s4. Why even include him in the end of s3 then

- Okay maybe I’m pulling a blank but who tf is Quinn? How does he know Klaus? Why does he hate Klaus so much?

- Why does Claire know Klaus is immortal? Why is she all of sudden cool w her mom having eye glowy powers? You have no questions about that Claire huh…

- It also made sense to me that Lila and Diego would hate domestic life… and to me it seemed like even introducing their kids (not one, but three) was sort of silly. We only really saw Grace at the birthday party and then it seemed like Lila and Diego would forget and then remember their kids existed at weird parts

- Five and Lila giving up searching for a way out of the subway stations six years in seemed sus. Yes, take a break/eat strawberries but why would you stop searching for a way back? You’re supposed to be the best agents in the commission so like… where did that grit/determination go

- Ben dying and being mutated with zero understanding of what was happening to him… just sucked

[ominus-potato]

As a MareWare ceo. What do you think of the people that call them a “problematic ship”?

I personally have no problem with the ship itself. I think it’s hilarious and offers a unique dynamic between the two. And I personally don’t care if people like the ship or not. But I feel like it’s a weird label to put on what is essentially just a hero x villain /crackship.

Ohh boy.

Okay so there’s a beeg misunderstanding around the Marware ship and a lot of people like to label it as victim x abuser bc Mr Puzzles indirectly tormented the SMG4 crew for a year.

Now, in my personal opinion, labelling all toxic ships as proships is a bit ridiculous bc with that logic, pretty much any ship could be argued to be a proship. I could argue that SMG34 is a proship because SMG3 harassed SMG4 for years and stole from him and tried to kill him. If we were in 2020 back at the peak of SMG3’s villainy during the YouTube arc, I can BET that there would be people calling SMG34 and Mar3 a proship bc Three essentially erased Four from existence and kept Mario as a prisoner until he was willing to cooperate. But of course, those ships are not proships, nor were they ever. But bc of that abuse rule, any idiot can make the argument that they are proships and a bunch of people waste a bunch of time talking about it.

But, if we are going to include the abuse rule, Marware still does not qualify to be a proship.

Why?

Because Mr Puzzles is incapable of actually hurting Mario.

We saw him try to intimidate and threaten him during Puzzlevision and Mario just kicked his ass every single time. Hell, Puzzles was cowering in FEAR of the man! And you want to tell me Marware is an abusive proship where Mario is the poor little victim? Oh please, he wouldn’t take that shit from Puzzles and you know it. It’s MARIO for Pete’s sake. If anyone’s the victim in this relationship it’s Puzzles /j

Also, although the crew were forced to perform in Puzzles’ shows against their will, Mario seemed to be actually ENJOYING Puzzles’ schemes which is ridiculous but true. The only time Mario really hated one of Puzzles’ schemes was when he stole his moustache and as soon as he confronted him, the first thing he did was smash his screen in as revenge.

If you want to write off the entirety of Puzzlevision as Mario being fully brainwashed (despite definitely not being brainwashed in the Gameshow Episode), then fine. We’ll just take a look at wotfi, the Puzzlevision movie, and the meme factory mini arc.

Wotfi 2024: Mario was the only one who wanted to stay in Puzzle Park when they first arrived, he was clearly having fun with a lot of the games (joking around with SMG4, smiling, clearly enjoying himself), in the wotfi song he literally said “I’m-a having fun! Let’s-a stay!” …..

Meme Factory Mini arc: Mario dropped in, danced around a bit, and got threatened by Puzzles. He didn’t even register the threat. He just stood there with a stupid look on his face. He couldn’t care less.

Puzzlevision movie: Mario gets threatened by Puzzles and immediately breaks his screen, demands TV time, and chases him around the entire mushroom kingdom trying to get his TV time back. He is completely unfazed by Puzzles yelling at him for ruining his 5 stars and instead continues to taunt him. When he gets told to ram his head into the wall 1000 times, he comes out completely uninjured afterwards bc Mario cannot get hurt like a normal person. SMG4 beheaded him in “No TV makes Mario not okie dokie” and he’s still doing fine. He clearly does not operate mentally and physically like a human.

It’s also worth noting that Mario is the ONLY character in the entirety of SMG4 who genuinely enjoys the creations that Puzzles is passionate about!! His shows, his theme park, whatever he does out of pure passion! Mario is there and in full support of it, no matter how terrible the parody may be.

If you want to bring up Western Spaghetti and IGBP then that’s fair. However, I don’t think Mario actually KNOWS Puzzles is responsible for those events. Think about it! Mario wasn’t there when Puzzles revealed he was behind those movies. And the crew themselves are seemingly over that whole thing as well. SMG4 is just irritated by Puzzles now. Meggy honestly seems to be the only one who is directly affected mentally by his schemes.

At the end of the day, you’ve got to remember that it’s a silly little meme show and a lot of what goes on really shouldn’t be taken that seriously. Especially with the character of Mario. But even if you want to take it seriously, you’ve got to look at the facts. Mario is too stupid to be mentally affected by what Puzzles does and physically, he is untouchable.

Marware is not a proship. It is not problematic. It’s is just hero x villain.

You don’t have to like it, but don’t go around calling the people who ship it proshippers

(This is not directed at you anon. Just people in general who misunderstand their relationship)

Anyway, live laugh love Marware

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 1 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

so babe, hear me out. we could adopt him. just spitballing here (agatha, probably)

bwahhaha fantasy!billy and his death stare, meanwhile real billy is such a polite baby

if you look closely you can tell Joe Locke is fighting for his life holding down laughter in a lot of his scenes with Katrhyn. he has nerves of steel, couldn't be me

(also, billy telling her she has neither the respect of her peers NOR a fulfilling home life? harsh, but fair.) (at least her wife is trying to fix the home life part)

honey, don't go around kicking grumpy little twinks now! perfectly in character. despite her chaotic exterior, rio is a very lawful person. she is literally the laws of nature!

the Ballad plays faintly in the background when Billy mentions the Road

I love when good actors have to pretend to be bad actors. and I also find it interesting that Agatha cast herself as a good guy. does it make her feel better? is she telling herself that all the atrocities were justified, that it was only survival instinct? (like rio said, she's only lying to herself)

I had to look up the painting, it's Macbeth meeting the three witches (thank you Reddit!) So Macbeth (Agatha) and Banquo (Billy) meeting Lilia, Jen and Alice?

how did I miss Billy sitting on the chair Rio was just on?! amazing lens choices here too

Wanda's death makes her cry again. I honestly, honestly believe she feels awful about what she did to her. but guilt will never be enough to redeem her - especially because she tends to run away from it.

Wanda's magic was so strong that it took at least four things to undo the spell: Wanda dying, Rio's intervention, Billy's counterspell, and Agatha's willpower. It was a group effort, Agatha could have never done it alone. And despite her scorched earth tactics, there are still two people in her life, rio and billy, willing to help out in her hour of need

it's naughty tiiiime

I still really love the curls

can I say iconique?

it's like someone's about to die at the end of this

bwahahahahaah and oh my GAWD all the case files and boxes, where did she GET that stuff, did she rob a precinct, did she make them with the power of arts and crafts

you know what I think? being naked here is a power move. she is being very over the top because she's really uncomfortable, she just woke up and she's in those moments when you stop dreaming and have to relearn what's real and what isn't. she is someone used to calculate and scheme and micromanage every aspect of her life and she is not in control right now. what does Agatha do to reclaim control? she puts on a show. to her, being under the spell was way more like being naked, her insecurities and emotions and past were out in the open for everyone to see. being physically naked could never be nearly as distressing, and this is a nakedness she chose, because it tells people nothing about herself, nothing of what she wants to keep secret and protected. she's got the upper hand, not the other way round

you are all cowards and sheep for not saying Wanda's name, says the lady who would rather hide under a dozen magic layers than face her problems

that is so nice that they brought her groceries actually??? and lol those are the flowers in Agatha's crime scene pictures

that little girl is having a great time

FUCK CLOTHES BUT FUCK THESE CLOTHES SPECIFICALLY!!!!

(wait am I allowed to post butt cheeks? what are the rules right now?)

she turns quiet and emo as soon as she's alone

why doesn't she just - kiss the wiwwle bunny. bury her nose in that big fluffly head. even villains need a cuddle sometimes.

sure, bring señor scratchy. so menacing. that'll show them.

poor boy. trapped in a closet with ralph's bluray collection

aaand I really want to get to the next scene so I'll start on it right away, hopefully it'll be ready later tonight

go to part 4

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) Chapter Four

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months sooner than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. Afterall, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plans brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down, but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tags: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut 

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, This chapter needed to happen to expand the plot. Don't worry, smut is coming soon - like next chapter soon! BTW this was written after episode 7 of Helluva Boss, Full Moon events have not yet happened.

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Four - The Meeting

Content Warning: none, but let me know if I missed any!

Husk said he didn’t think you liked surprises and boy was he right. 

Charlie screamed the second you entered the kitchen, thrusting a present box into your arms. You were pissed, having not slept, tossing and turning in the silence of the night. 

You really needed to find a radio - it’s music had lulled you to sleep in the past - but now you were hesitant. The radio was Alastor’s domain, and you didn’t know what kind of power the device would have now that he was back in Hell. 

It’s the same reason why you never got a cell phone - you didn’t want Vox tracking your whereabouts or having access to your video camera. It would be a lot easier to figure out who you were if you did. 

You used the new collection of syrups and powders to make real creations for the staff to enjoy. You had to admit, it was fun, and finally gave you a chance to make a jasmine latte to your liking - something you hadn’t had since your early days working at the cafe. 

Alastor was nowhere to be found. So he didn’t see the tension in your body as you ate breakfast. He didn’t see you slip out after Angel and Husk got into it over the news of the Porn Star’s employer - now officially revealed to be Valentino. He didn’t see you tiptoe to your room, lock the door, pull your leather armor and cloak from the Void and clean them before today’s meeting. 

You checked for his shadow of course, to see if he was watching, but for whatever reason, the darkness was still. 

Doning your black garb, you double checked the silver stitching around the hood of your cloak, ensuring the magic seal was still intact. A few loose strands caught your attention but nothing serious enough to disrupt the enchantment. 

Okay. You were going out. In broad daylight. To attend a meeting with the most powerful Overlords in Hell. 

What could go wrong? 

____________________________________________

“Ope! Ope! Ope! Ope!” 

You landed on the sidewalk in a pile of… eggs? 

They stopped their incessant noise making before turning to you, confused but intrigued by the smoke pooling at your feet. 

“Are you on fire?” 

“Why can’t we see your face?”

“You smell like jasmine.” 

“Can I touch your cloak?” 

Sir Pentious’ eggs. What were they doing here? 

You took the elevator to the penthouse - which was really weird. Normally you’d just fly to the top and take the terrace entrance in, but Carmilla Carmine was hosting and she had earned your respect. Not simply because she had invited you, but for the many things before. 

“...I’m sure you’ve all been wondering!” Alastor’s voice hits you at the same time as the static finds your skin. 

Fuck.

“Not really, but welcome back in any case.” You tried hard to hold back your snort as you rounded the corner, appearing at the entrance of the conference room. 

“Ah, you’ve made it,” Carmine gestures to you. 

All eyes flit to you, cementing you to the tile floor where you stood. You did your best to keep your eyes locked with Carmilla’s not wanting to send the wrong message with a wondering gaze. You weren’t here to challenge anyone, certainly not on your first day, you were here as a guest of Carmilla’s and to stake a claim to the seat which has been offered. 

They room falls silent before Zestial finally speaks up. “Tis this the infamous Shadow thou spoke of, Carmilla?” 

You bow your head to the Overlord - and you mean “The” Overlord for he was the first. You had never met him in person before, but you’ve heard of him. 

God, he was even more glorious in person. You could taste the power wafting off him from where you stood. 

“What the heck! What is he doing here?” Zeeze began to protest. 

The colors of her fur were wild enough to make you sick. 

“I invited him,” Carmilla answered dismissively as if it was obvious. Zeezee and a few of the other Overlords protested save for Rosie and Alastor. You didn’t dare turn to them, however, you couldn’t risk anyone in this room catching any hint of your relationship with the Queen of the Cannibals nor could you risk Alastor suspecting any familiarity. 

Fucking Alastor. You blocked out his gaze the most from your mind.  

“The Shadow has risen to power faster second to none other than Alastor himself.” She gestures to the Radio Demon whose eyes haven’t left your form. “He now holds enough souls to rival even your own count, Zeezee. He’s earned a spot at this table.” 

Ha. Fuck you. 

“This is the Shadow…” Rosie chimes in. “Ha! I thought he’d be taller.” She laughs from Alastor’s side. 

“Well then!” The Radio Demon’s smile reappeared, catching you off guard. It’s a really good thing they couldn’t see your hands shaking beneath the cloak. “Please, do take a seat!” He motioned with his microphone to a chair at the end of the table. A shadowed hand wrapped around the leg and pulled it out, inviting you to sit. Once the others saw Rosie and Alastor cave, they felt a bit more relaxed - not enough to drop their guard, however.  

Rosie’s eyes caught yours at the other end of the table. She gave you an imperceptibly small smile, fleeting so as not to attract too much attention. 

At least you had one ally in this room. 

“This year's Extermination was brutal, far more even than years past. We have assessed that about 16% of the population was lost,” a slide projector turns on behind her. “With the angelic legions now returning twice as quickly, I think it prudent we…” The door slams inwards, a loud-mouthed Velvette barging into the meeting. 

God, it was good that you needed to keep yourself composed here, otherwise you’d rip her head off and burn it to ashes. Every interaction you had with her just pushed the line more and more. 

She hangs up the phone, turning to grab the back of your chair and… “What in the Hell is this!?” Velvette motions to you sitting in the chair. “What is this piece of trash doing, sitting in my seat!?”

Smoke began pooling at your feet, angrily twisting about itself in waves. 

“Nice of you to join us, Velvette. Will your… colleagues be joining us?” Carmilla ignored her. 

“What? No, they have better shit to do than to listen to an old windbag who thinks she's tough shit. I'm here to represent or I would be if this wanker would get out of my seat.” 

You didn’t move an inch. Moving would be yielding power to Velvette and you couldn’t let that happen. 

“Velvette, let me introduce you to the Shadow,” Carmilla motioned to you. 

Her red sclera flit between you and the weapons-dealing Overlord. “Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of name is ‘Shadow’ anyway?” She snorted. “This is so going on my Sinstagram. I can’t… Oh!” The purple phone explodes in her hand. 

You didn’t do that… 

Alastor laughs from his chair, “Oh my, what a mess you’ve made.” Her phone lay in a heap on the ground, electrical sparks flying every which way. 

Her tan skin turned a beat red, “Listen here you cock-sucking…” Her hand phases through your cloak as she attempts to grab you. She stands stunned, staring at her hand as if she couldn’t believe it herself. 

It was a cheap trick, but oh-so satisfying when it happened. No one could take the cloak off of you. Not unless you were dead or they knew who you were. 

You loved old magic. 

Velvette stood shell-shocked and speechless. 

No one stood up for you. No one intervened. They were all just as curious to see what you would do next. 

With a snap of your fingers, you pulled a chair from the Void, surrounding the materialization process with blue flame - just for flare. It was a dingy chair, metal and worn - nothing compared to the grand plush ones set aside for the other guests. That, however, was intentional. Summoning the chair wasn’t giving in to her tantrum, it was an insult in and of itself.

“Thank you, Shadow,” Carmilla nodded to you. “So, as I was saying, we need to discuss…”

Velvette uses the chair as a stepping stool, shooting daggers with her eyes at your face. She steps before you, her feet on the table, blocking your view of the room. 

Bitch. 

“On the subject of discussion…” She throws the severed head of an Exorcist across the table.

Oh, here we go! A dead Exorcist - if that didn’t speed up your plans you didn’t know what would! 

You watched as Velvette launched herself into a - obviously rehearsed - speech regarding an assault plan on Heaven. 

Ha! Vox and Valentino sure had big balls if they think they can take the fight to them. On the other hand, you would love to see that happen. They’d be squished before they even made it to the gates, turned into a pile of recycled electronics and whatever the fuck moths had - feathers? 

You’d find some way to take Velvette down personally. Take her out in the chaos with an angelic blade and blame it on the Exorcists of Heaven. You wouldn’t have the credit for the kill of course but did you really need that to begin with? 

The only reason you were sitting here, showing the world a face, assigning a name to your killings was because of Rosie. She was the one to convince you to take hold of the power you so rightfully earned when you were adamant about staying in the shadows. 

You couldn’t lie to yourself, though; the power you had in sitting here, seeing Velvette’s face turn red, was worth it. 

“We know not how this perished. Mayhaps t'was not by a demon's hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing mightn't, they purge all of Hell for daring an uprising?” Zestial chimed in. 

You chuckled deep and low, earning a glare from Alastor. 

“Oh, I get it. So Grandpa is too pussy to fight, so I guess there's no point, right?” She jumps into the Overlord’s face. “Oh, what's the matter, Fossil? Too senile to make a real power grab for…”

“You better show some respect!” Carmilla interrupts Velvette. 

Ugh, Sinners were always so dramatic. This was like dealing with the Crimson Mafia but worse - they didn’t have some Gen Z spoiled brat to deal with. 

You took advantage of the distraction, using the time to study each of the Overlord’s without them knowing. Zeezee was a big… uh… Hell hound? Which didn’t make any sense since Hell hounds were Native born, but that was a mystery for a different day. 

The Von Eldritch representative was absent, but you’d never interacted with him before either. The unnamed Overlord sat to Zeezi’s right, silent and emotionless. Carmilla and her daughters you had already known for years. Zestial was… God, he was a dream. 

The Overlord dripped with power. You wondered, just out of curiosity and not actuality, what he would be like to fight. He seemed so elegant and refined, sitting there sipping his tea. Is his fighting style much of the same? Would he seduce you with his lethality? You had heard that lesser demons flee just upon the sight of him. What has he done to earn such respect? You wanted to know, you wanted to…

Static crawled its way up your spine, freezing your muscles and silencing your thoughts. You felt the air shift beneath your smoke - no, the shadows shift beneath your smoke. They were cold, like how a summer day’s temperature drops in the shade. You could feel them as they shifted beneath you, slithering against your robes.

Alastor. 

You looked up to find the Overlord peering down at you, both hands crossed, his chin resting in his palms. His eyes were half-lidded as they raked over your cloaked form, like he was analyzing you, like he could see straight through the smoke and shadows to you underneath. It made you feel vulnerable. It made you feel weak. 

You met his gaze, not letting his intimidation show. You sensed curiosity from the Overlord. Sniffing, you tried again to smell his emotion, but the room was filled with the iritation wafting off of Velvette and Carmilla - cinnamon. Ugh, you hated cinnamon. 

Your eyes narrowed at the red demon, hoping he moves his gaze, but when he doesn’t relent you decide to repay his stare with a wandering set of eyes of your own. 

He was lean, yet built - his broad chest forming an upside down triangle disappearing into a slim waist line. Donning one of his well-pressed suits and matching slacks. His sense of style was impeccable you had to give him that - but of course, Rosie dressed him and you loved everything she made. Even if she forced you into a dress. He wore gloves - he always wore gloves - but his hands though…

Images of his claws scraping across your cheek and down your skin come flooding back. A shiver runs through your core at the memory of his touch on your neck, the way he licked his lips at the sight of the blood pumping through your veins. Alastor turned ravenous at the thought of tasting you. Fucking cannibals. 

But the way you moaned? God, how embarrassing. You had never made a sound like that in your life. Where had it come from? Why had it happened? 

And why did you like it?

Why did you want him to squeeze harder, to drag your lips to his…

Stop! 

Your face heated at the thought. Alarmed, you pulled your gaze back into your lap, earning a small chuckle from the Radio Demon. 

Where the fuck did that come from!? Get your shit together! You’re supposed to be a badass Overlord in a very important meeting right now. There was no space for thoughts of Alastor and… NO. NOPE. NOT GOING THERE.  

Of course such a devious man would be so enticing! It’s probably how he claimed his victims up top. Get them to like him and smile at them. Maybe he flirted and twirled their hair, before taking their hand and luring them into the dark forest with promises of… NO! STOP IT!

Jesus Christ, it was a really good thing no one could see your face right now. 

Velvette suddenly appeared, her nose mere inches from yours, “This isn’t fucking over!” She jumped to the ground, kicking the chair you pulled from the Void into the wall. “Safe travels back to the nursing home, fuckers! Kiss my ass!” She flipped you all off on her way out. 

It was silent for a beat before Alastor chimed, “That was a productive meeting!” 

What part of that was productive? 

The Overlords all got up from their chairs and headed for the exit, you follow suit, a little saddened at the fact that this meeting went nowhere. You had such high hopes the moment Velvette pulled out the severed head. Ugh, guess you were going to have to continue with Plan A. 

“Shadow,” Carmilla called. Her and her daughters hadn’t yet moved from their spots. “May I call on you later?” Zestial stood next to her, finishing his tea. 

You nodded before…

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.” Alastor stepped into your path, his hand outstretched. “Alastor, pleasure to meet you.”

Your palm was far, far smaller in his grip than you had expected. If his hands were this big then did that mean his…

You stifle a cough, hoping he doesn’t notice. “Charmed.”

His eyes narrow. 

Oh, he noticed. 

“May I interest you in a drink? I see it impertinent to get to know someone such as yourself as we may be able to… benefit one another.” The edges of his smile curled. It made your stomach bubble with anxiety - not the same feelings as butterflies, you should point out. 

Your eyes drifted back to the room, finding Rosie absent. You knew Alastor was going to pay an interest in the Shadow once he was made aware of your presence. You had risen to power just as fast as he had - how could he not pay attention to you? You just didn’t expect it right off the bat. 

“Alastor is a respectable man,” Carmilla jumps in. “He can be trusted” Her eyes weighed heavily on you. She was throwing you a bone, trying to tell you what to do in this situation. 

Alastor respected only those who respected him. Insult him and he will show you no kindness -  Vox being the prime example. You weren’t prepared to take him on just yet, and if he ever found out who you really were, it would completely derail your plans. Besides, if you shut the door now, there was no telling if or when it was going to open again. Remember what you had decided last night at the bar: get to know the Radio Demon, throw him off the scent. 

Pulling the obsidian calling card from your breast pocket, you held it out to him. “A drop of scarlet beneath night’s mistress.” 

A drop of scarlet: blood. The night’s mistress: darkness. Anyone in possession of an obsidian calling card merely had to drip a single drop of their blood atop the card. That drop of blood was the tie in you needed to begin a deal with whomever summoned you. 

Only certain people carried those cards, those who you had bestowed the gift upon. Only once had a card fallen into the wrong hands - and ONLY once. You would never let that happen again. Which was why, from here on out, you needed to be picky with whom you entrusted these to. You didn’t know if you could trust the Radio Demon, but again you couldn’t let this door close. 

“Oh! How ominous.” He slipped the card into his jacket pocket as you exited the conference room, doing your best to ignore the pinpoint glare on the back of your head and the demon who held it. 

____________________________________________

SLAM! Velvette kicks the door open, stomping her way into Vox’s office. “That cock-sucking bastard! Who the fuck does he think he is!?” 

Vox rolled his eyes, continuing to click away on the computer monitor, “No, please Velvette come right in.” 

The brat demon slumped into a chair, her boots kicking up on the desk’s top. The female Vee reclined in the chair, a look of pure anger on her face. “He sat in my seat. My seat! And insulted me right in front of the Overlords of Hell!” 

“Uh-huh,” Vox feigned interest, continuing to click away. 

“And the Old-ass Hag let him! They all just sat there and let him! Where was the fucking respect!?” The Vee jumped to her feet, a thumb jabbed into her chest. “I’m Velvette - the Velvette. I’m a fucking Overlord! He’s just a glorified bed sheet with an attitude!” 

“Yeah,” Vox switched to a different browser - still not listening.

“He’s dead.” Velvette declared, climbing onto the desk. “He’s fucking dead the next time I see him.”

“That sounds nice,” Vox mindlessly added. 

“That sounds nice? What… What the fuck are you doin’?” The female Vee reached down and spun the monitor around. 

A thousand tabs were open, each containing different social media page profiles, image searches, or links to various surveillance cameras around town. 

Velvette shot the media demon a dumb look. “This is why you had to skip the meeting!? You’re still lookin’ for that girl, aren’t you?” 

“What?” Vox pretended to look offended. “No! I’m not… I mean… Why would I…?” His words trailed off at the sight of Velvette’s irritated face. “Maybe.”

Velvette rolled her eyes. “Give me your phone,” she held out her hand. 

“Use your own phone!” The media demon snapped.

Velvette’s glare turned lethal. “You do not want to mess with me today, princess. Give me the goddamn phone!” 

Vox knew better than to argue with the female Vee when she was in a mood. 

Handing over the device, he watched as she clicked across various different media sites before she paused on one in particular. All in all she took about three minutes total of searching before she turned the device around.

And there you were. Hidden amongst a million photos of bugs and random blurry pictures of red ceilings and floors was you in Angel’s arms. 

“How the Hell…” Vox reached for his phone, staring dumbfounded at the photo.

Velvette smirked, a wicked gleam in her eye, “Guess where your mysterious Alley Girl is staying…” 

Vox read the page name, his one eye blinking red with rage, “Alastor…”

____________________________________________

“The Vees are going to be a problem,” Carmilla pondered, one hand wrapped around her chin. 

“I agree,” you growled from your place atop the terrace. The night was colder than expected - perhaps an ominous omen of what was to come. 

“What do you suggest, Mother?” Odette chimed from the chair. Her sister silent and still as always. 

“I suggest we do nothing,” she shrugged, “but wait and watch. If the Vees want to take up arms against the Angels they will not do so alone. We need to ensure that they stay alone.” At that, she eyed you. 

You knew what that meant - a lot of fucking nights at the V Tower listening to a whole lot of nothing. She needed you to play spy. Carmilla would do her part, of course, watching and learning using her own set of spies - she wasn’t one of the most powerful Overlords in Hell for her weapons business alone. 

You stood there and waited for her to name her price. Watching the Vees was in her best interest - not yours. She didn’t know that, but she knew you disliked them so and she knew your services weren’t free. They were never free. Finally, she laid down a number. You weren’t happy with it, but you also owed Carmilla for your seat at the table. Thus, you wouldn’t complain. 

Turning, you headed for the edge of the balcony, preparing to jump before she stopped you again. “I feel the need to explain myself.”

You had another place to be tonight and, of course, you were already late. 

You don’t turn back to her, expecting this to be brief. 

“My girls and I have known you from the beginning,” Carmilla began. From the corner of your eye, you watch Odette and Clara’s eyes grow big. “And although you don’t trust me anymore, know this. I do not do the things I do for you because of who you are, but because of who you have made yourself into.” 

Images of Clara’s blood and Carmilla’s screams fill your vision. You shake the memory away. 

“The last thing I wish to see is you harmed.” Her voice breaks. “I. Am. Sorry.”

Your eyes flit to Clara, yet the girl didn’t meet your gaze, guilt held in her tight-lipped mouth. 

You knew how sorry she was. You knew. 

You take off into the night. 

____________________________________________

From the shadows of the I.M.P office rose a figure clad in red. 

The imp working the desk jumped in shock, spewing coffee over the papers on his desk. “Holy shit! Mr. Radio… The Radio… Over… Demon Lord…”

“Alastor, is fine. Pleasure,” the demon smiled, his teeth and eyes practically glowing in the night. 

“Moxie! Millie! Fuck! Get in here!” He screamed at the door, sprinting to the otherside of the desk to pull out a chair. The wooden seat shoke in his arms, clacking against the floorboards. Even the Natives were afraid of him, it seemed. 

Two smaller imps burst through, but jumped back at the sight of the Overlord seated in front of Blitz’s desk. 

“The… The… Radio… De… Demon…” Moxie tried to speak from behind the cover of his darling wife, but words would not agree with him.

“Yes, yes,” Alastor waved. “I believe we’ve covered that part already, haven’t we?”

Blitz pulled out about fifty pens, only one making it into his hand and the other fourty nine spewing onto the floor. He ripped a few pieces of paper before finally pulling one free and set about writing notes. “What can we do ya’ for, your Overlordness?” He gave an awkward laugh, his elbow tipping the cup of coffee over on his desk. “Shit. Fuck. Shit. Moxie get me a towel!”

The lesser imp and his wife disappeared from the room. 

“I need you to find someone for me,” Alastor purred, his hands resting atop his microphone. 

“Find someone… We don’t really do…” As Blitz talked, the green glare of Alastor’s aura began to fill the room. 

Blitz swallowed dryly, trying to think. “Yeah, Oh… Okay we can find someone for you. What’s their name?”

“I don’t know,” Alastor’s smile strained. He didn’t like not having the upper hand in any situation. Part of the reason why he was here, he needed more information. He needed leverage, just in case. 

“You don’t know…” Blitz rose an eyebrow. 

“What’s a hound got to do to get some sleep around…” A female Hellhound turned the corner, coming eye to eye with Alastor before slinking away, whining as she went. 

“No, I do not know, for they are already dead and do not go by their Christian name,” Alastor continued. 

“Already dead… What the fuck are you here for? We kill alive people.” Blitz was now thoroughly confused, but Alastor was having none of that. 

“I want information on who and what they did when they were alive,” His smile was strained against his teeth. His patience was being tested. 

“Why?” The imp asked. 

Wrong thing to say. 

“Oooooh, shit,” Blitz jumped behind his desk to shield himself from the growing mass that was Alastor’s demon form. “Okay! Okay!” The imp caved. “We’ll do whatever you want! We just need a name! Shit. Somewhere to start, at least!?” 

The Radio Demon shrank back, finally happy to hear some progress. It was getting harder and harder to contain his anger lately. 

“She goes by Thestral.”

-> Link to Chapter Five

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