#I'm a grown professional married woman what am I doing

[pseudowho]

18+, touch-starved, 'waiting' gentleman Nanami Kento, male masturbation over the clothes

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"But...does this count?" you whispered against Nanami Kento's neck, your hand trailing down to the curved tenting at the front of his tan trousers. He jolted, grunting, involuntarily bucking against your palm.

He was a gentleman; one who waited; one who longed. Certainly not one to turn his back on due diligence, and favouring flowers over fondling. Any girlfriend whom he intended to become his wife, would only be taken by him after a societally appropriate time.

But how long would this be? With you, a day felt like a month; a month, years. With how you smiled against his throat, he knew, from every twitch of his touch-starved body, that even a gentleman may meet his resolve's end sooner than planned.

"It...it counts," Kento choked, his body betraying him to roll his hips and the straining underside of his cock up against your palm. "I...I shouldn't. You deserve-- deserve--"

"...deserve to know the face of your pleasure, before you come inside me?" Kento froze, paralysed by the honesty, the filth of your words. He felt his cock twitch beneath your palm when you spoke again, lower this time. "Yes. Yes, I do. So..."

"I-- I don't-- haaaah," Kento cried, hoarse and breathy, for a twitch almost as bone-deep as one when he spilled himself, shivered through his length. He felt the dribble of pre-cum soak through his trousers; he saw it, too, the sticky fluid staining the pale material to beige. You felt it, too; you saw it, too. Kento knew he was a goner, when you bit your lip beneath dilating pupils.

You cupped your hand around the length of his cock, moulding his boxers and trousers to his shape, and slowly, rhythmically, beginning to jack him off through his clothes. Kento humped up desperately, dishevelled and panting, and touch-starved, so touch-starved--

"Feels good?" you whispered, suckling his throat to leave rose petals on his skin. Kento only groaned; husky, shuddering, coming undone embarrassingly quickly. Touch without touch was so illicit, so debauched, for one so corseted as he.

"Feels...feels...like I'm going to come in my boxers like a boy--" Kento growled, tangling his fingers through your hair to keep your lips on his throat.

"Would that be so bad?" you murmured against his pulse point, your tongue dipping out to taste the desperation off his skin. Your hand sped up, gliding around the length of him.

Your eyes closed to imagine it was his bare cock in your hand, instead. Your eyes closed, to imagine how the shape of him would fit every plush facet of your insides. You shivered; Kento moaned. You felt him hardening even further; felt the ghost of veins, standing proud, winding around his cock like desire paths.

The gentleman was gone, now; the needy remained.

"Don't stop," panted Kento, fucking up into your palm with every smooth masturbatory motion that your hand made around him, "--just--just like that-- don't stop-- I...I'll..."

Trailing your lips from his jaw to his mouth, you pressed a chaste little peck to his lips; but it was when your tongue swiped over his lower lip, that he met his undoing.

Your hand pumped only two more fabric-frictioned long pumps...before Kento held his breath. His jaw dropped in a silent gasp. His hand tightened in your hair, the other pressing dimples into the divot of your waist. And you felt him spill.

Kento moaned with every twitch of his cock, leaping and spurting beneath tan confines. You watched, fascinated, to see him come apart with each bucking spill, each deepening stain that spread beneath his clothes. His face, twisted in divine agony, would be seated into your mind until he took you, pinned and begging his name, for the first time.

"--f-fuck...o-ooohhh f-fuck...p-pathetic...so pathetic--"

"--hot, actually--"

A rough, gravelly cough; a mirthless laugh, with his final weak spatters of cum.

"...you...will be the end of me...I swear on my life..."

Kento opened one slim, brown eye, regarding your gleeful lip-biting with a huff. He had almost pulled himself together...until you dipped down to the cum-stain on his crotch, and fixed your mouth around it, sucking through the saturated fabric and dipping out your tongue to taste him.

Kento whimpered, bucking weakly against your lips, for you had broken him once, and twice, and now thrice, and he wondered how he would ever survive--

"...taste amazing, Kento."

Four times. Kento flipped you beneath him, pinning you to the sofa with sadistic satisfaction at the look of shock on your face.

He blew upwards, wisping commas of blond off his sweaty forehead. He curled one long finger into his tie, loosening it with one violent tug.

"I've had enough of you, madam. If you won't treat me like a gentleman, then I shan't be."

[ysmtttty]

Again

Chapter 4 Read on AO3 or below || Chapter 3 Chapter 5 Lawyer AU where Eris and Nesta used to be rivals before she got married and decided to leave the field. But now she is divorced and determined to return to the legal field, even if it means working with Eris, not against him.

a/n: I am very very sorry I'm taking this long with chapters. I was sick all October, then had my deadlines, then sick again. Not cool. But I fought my flu to finish it today so yes, tried my best here:) So thank you for waiting and staying<3

“What do you mean you went home?” Emerie asked in disappointment, listening as Nesta recounted the events of last Friday.

They were sitting on the couch in her apartment, drinking wine while her daughters fought over the new toys Gwyn had brought. Astrid was desperately trying to reclaim what had originally been given to her, while Callista simply wanted everything her older sister had. Nesta watched them, but nothing threatened their lives except themselves—Callista kept biting, and Astrid, due to her age, was simply physically stronger.

“What was I supposed to do?” Nesta asked sullenly, taking a sip of her wine.

Both Emerie and Gwyn looked at her as if she’d asked the dumbest question possible. While Gwyn tactfully kept silent, simply giving her a look, Emerie wasn’t holding back.

“Eris Vanserra, your rich, arrogant, and objectively hot boss, whom you kissed,” she said, emphasizing every word unnecessarily. “Nes, this is straight out of half the romance novels we buy for our Kindles. You know what you should have done.”

Nesta grimaced and snorted. “I'm not going to compromise my professionalism any further than I already have. Besides, I don’t need a relationship, especially after just finalizing my divorce.”

“No one’s talking about a relationship, but se—”

“Emerie means you need to unwind,” Gwyn interrupted before Emerie could say something entirely inappropriate for a room where children were present. Not that it mattered much, as both Callista and Astrid were distracted by the cartoon playing on the TV and their ongoing quarrel. “Your divorce from Cassian took so much time and energy, and even during your marriage, things were... uh... far from smooth. Maybe you should consider—”

“Sleeping with my boss, whom I couldn’t stand for nearly a decade of my life?” Nesta raised an eyebrow.

Both her friends shrugged, as if to say it wasn’t the worst idea in the world. Nesta just rolled her eyes, taking another sip of wine. She and Eris? Never. Not even after twenty-four hours of being unable to focus on anything without recalling how they’d kissed in his office.

His hands on her waist, her hands in his hair, the feel of his lips on hers… Nesta wanted to smack herself for how much significance she was giving it. She was a grown woman, for god’s sake, with two kids and a jerk of an ex-husband. The last thing she needed was an affair with someone from her past. Even if that someone had been surprisingly good company for the past few months.

Even if she had genuinely enjoyed his company.

In any case, Nesta reminded herself, Eris was her boss. No matter how much she hated the fact, it was still true—Eris was her boss, and there was absolutely no way she could date him. Period.

“Even if not him, then at least someone,” Emerie huffed, clearly disappointed that Nesta wouldn’t sleep with Eris when it could have been ripped straight from the pages of the books they’d traded back in grad school. “Seriously, how many months has it been since the last time you had anything at all?”

Nesta rolled her eyes again, her cheeks flushing slightly with the embarrassment of knowing the answer. A long time. A very long time ago.

“We need to go out somewhere,” Emerie declared. “And find you a suitable companion for—”

Both Gwyn and Nesta shot her a look, making her pause. To her credit, Emerie didn’t falter much and quickly rephrased.

“For a good time,” she finished.

Nesta merely snorted.

“Mama!” both her daughters cried out simultaneously, their voices plaintive and whining. Nesta turned to see Callista biting down on a doll that Astrid was clutching, trying desperately to snatch it away.

“Next time, I’ll know to buy identical dolls,” Gwyn muttered, watching as Nesta stepped in to separate her daughters. Luckily, Astrid was old enough to be reasoned with.

Astrid distracted herself by climbing onto Gwyn’s lap, where Gwyn stealthily handed her another piece of candy while Nesta wasn’t looking. The delighted girl sat contentedly munching her chocolate as Nesta explained to Callista why biting her sister and grabbing toys wasn’t acceptable, no matter how badly she wanted them.

“I need to close the case first,” Nesta said, returning to the couch with Callista, who refused to leave her side. Emerie fondly ruffled the little girl’s hair as she stared at the coffee table, clearly plotting what she could grab. Nesta handed her a few grapes.

“Work, work, work,” Emerie mimicked with exaggerated boredom. “Do you really want to go back to that?”

“It’s still better than diapers, diapers, my husband’s dirty socks on the floor, and more diapers,” Nesta replied. Being a housewife had never appealed to her, not that anyone had asked her opinion.

“You’ve got two extremes,” Gwyn pointed out, reaching for her empty glass and refilling it with juice before passing it to Astrid, who murmured a soft “thank you.” “You need to learn to find balance.”

“I’m balanced. I don’t work weekends... mostly,” Nesta met two pairs of judgmental stares. “And I leave work at six almost every time. You can’t judge me.”

Gwyn just shook her head, finishing her wine and clinking glasses with Astrid. Emerie, meanwhile, stole one of Callista’s grapes, provoking the little girl’s loud protest. Nesta shot her friend a disapproving look that clearly said, Really?

After sitting a while longer, Callista fell asleep despite the occasional laughter and conversations between the women. Astrid, on the other hand, remained wide awake, feeling very much like part of the group, which both Gwyn and Emerie encouraged by asking her about school and any class gossip.

Nesta doubted first graders knew much about gossip, but she listened with interest as her daughter described how their English and math teachers always ate lunch together. Nesta, of course, didn’t crush Astrid’s speculation that this meant something.

Eventually, even Astrid began yawning, resisting all attempts to convince her to go to bed because she didn’t want the day to end. Nesta promised they’d wake up early and go to the amusement park, while Gwyn whispered something in her ear that sounded suspiciously like “mountain of candy.” Astrid just giggled and finally agreed to sleep.

For another half hour, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie sat together, chatting about everything happening in their lives. Gwyn talked about how Cassian’s step-brother kept showing up at her church while Emerie tried to convince her to let her punch both him and Cassian, much to Nesta’s amusement. Emerie also shared stories from her shop and her plans to open another branch somewhere in the city.

Then Nesta was distracted by a notification sound, half-thinking—or hoping—that it was Eris. Maybe he needed help with the case. Who knew? They had another hearing soon, so anything was possible.

But it wasn’t Eris. It was Elain, and after reading her message, Nesta groaned and tossed her phone aside.

“What’s wrong?” Gwyn frowned.

“Elain. Or Feyre, they are probably sitting together,” Nesta snorted, pouring herself more wine and taking a big gulp. “They’re both trying to drag me to a family dinner. It’s Nyx’s birthday in a few weeks.”

“Oh,” Emerie sighed.

That was Nesta’s reaction, too. “Oh,” followed by a string of curses. Because there was no way she was willingly stepping foot in Cassian’s family home. Even if, technically, he no longer lived there. Even if, technically, it was now Feyre’s home with her son, Nyx. Feyre’s husband, in Nesta’s not-so-humble opinion, didn’t count as a person, so his house’s ownership didn’t count as well.

She hadn’t seen her sisters since the divorce. Not because she didn’t want to, but more because Feyre’s idiot husband was always lurking around her, never straying far, and Nesta wouldn’t have been surprised to learn they even pooped together, holding hands on matching toilets. And Elain always insisted they meet as sisters only when all three of them could meet, though she probably spent her weekends hanging around Feyre’s house anyway.

They called almost every week, but Nesta was always more at ease with the separation. Maybe it was because she was older than both of them, and Elain and Feyre were closer in age and therefore in interests. Besides, they were both… easier company than Nesta? It wasn’t some self-hating observation, but Nesta could clearly see there was a lot more harmony and lightness in tending to flowers and painting those same flowers than in talking about law.

That didn’t mean the sisters were distant from her. They still found topics to talk about—Nesta could sometimes call Feyre and, if she didn’t hear Rhysand’s voice in the background, not hang up immediately but ask her advice about parenting or other child-related matters. As much as it was hard to admit, Feyre understood things better because Nyx was older, and Feyre had already dealt with everything Nesta was going through with Astrid.

With Elain, Nesta would just chat, like when she asked whether she needed to water the cactus Elain had given her for her last birthday. The cactus was still quietly thriving on her bedroom windowsill, even though it had moved with Nesta from her old house to this apartment. And generally, Elain always called to check in on her, which counted as communication too.

Nesta hadn’t completely cut herself off from her family. And she didn’t need to show up at this circus elegantly titled a “family dinner.” There was a small chance Cassian would be there because, for some stupid reason, poor Rhysand couldn’t go a day without his “brother,” and Feyre would never let her husband suffer for one single evening just so Nesta could avoid the most awkward and uncomfortable night of her life.

It wasn’t that she wanted to let Cassian ruin her family relationships even after their divorce, but Nesta wanted to avoid confrontation with him for now. They were barely coping with splitting custody of the kids by the days of the week, and Nesta was already preparing an appeal to get more days. She hadn’t yet figured out a schedule that would work for her and not deprive the kids of their father, even if their father was a complete jerk. Though Nesta could admit Cassian adored their kids with all his heart, much more than he had ever loved her. So she wouldn’t fully take his rights away.

"Are you going to go?" Gwyn gently and calmly pulled her out of her thoughts.

“No,” Nesta snapped and then lowered her gaze. “I don’t know. Should I?”

Gwyn and Emerie exchanged glances and both shrugged. This was a question they couldn’t give her a good answer to.

“They’re your sisters,” Gwyn said. “Maybe you should go. And besides, it’s your favorite nephew’s birthday—you can’t not go. That would break his heart. Cassian’s family can go to hell, but your family still matters.”

Gwyn rarely swore—practically never, given that she was religious and literally worked at a church. So both Nesta and Emerie stared at her wide-eyed at first, realizing just how much Cassian annoyed Gwyn. He annoyed all of them, but now Nesta felt even more support from her friends.

“One evening won’t kill you. And you can always get Astrid to pretend she feels sick, so you can leave early,” Emerie grinned, breaking the bad mood. “She’s growing into a little actress. Bribe her with cheesecake, and she’ll act out anything you want.”

Nesta laughed, as did Emerie and Gwyn. Picking up her phone, she texted Elain—and Feyre, who was surely sitting next to her—that she would come.

***

Eris Vanserra always considered himself a rational man. Or at least, he tried to be.

What wasn’t rational was continuing to think about Nesta Archeron, who had reentered his life three months ago and hadn’t left his mind since. Eris thought he might be a masochist for agreeing to hire her, because there was no other explanation.

Not that he was losing his mind, but he was getting distracted often. His secretary occasionally asked if everything was alright with the firm because he was reaching out to one specific paralegal far too frequently. Eris very rarely reached out to paralegals in his firm.

And yet, after promoting Nesta to senior associate, everything became ten times worse because his masochistic brain and complete lack of control over his tongue in her presence led him to invite her to join the Kallias case. Naturally, Nesta’s help was invaluable.

Eris never doubted that Nesta was an exceptional lawyer—probably better than him. Had she not gone on maternity leave, her firm would likely have been a worthy competitor, if not a full-fledged threat to his own. Unfortunately, when Nesta left, Eris hadn’t hesitated to crush that firm completely.

And now? Now he was pacing his office in circles, desperately trying to gather the remnants of his brain cells to focus on his speech for the trial. What was looping in his mind nonstop? Of course, not how to word things to extract the maximum compensation from those factory bastards. Instead, his brain kept replaying their kiss.

If Eris had been younger, he might have jumped to the ceiling. Now, though, he was tormenting himself with questions—what did it mean, and should he think of it as something more than a spontaneous act of emotion? Nesta rarely acted emotionally; she was as much a reflection of rationality as Eris thought himself to be.

“Are you this nervous before the hearing?” a teasing voice distracted him from his fifteenth lap around the desk.

Eris sharply raised his head to see Nesta standing in the doorway with two steaming mugs of coffee. He smirked and gestured for her to come in.

“I don’t remember what it’s like to be nervous before a trial,” he replied with feigned arrogance.

Nesta only snorted, clearly remembering how much they’d both stressed before the first Kallias hearing. “I thought you might’ve missed sleep, but now I’m debating giving you coffee at all. Too much energy, and you’ll hit hyperspeed.”

“Or have a stroke,” Eris joked. Nesta rolled her eyes.

She sat down at the table; he settled into his chair opposite her, and they both drank their coffee in silence. It had become a small tradition over the past few weeks, and Eris didn’t mind at all. He was used to the silence of his office, which was usually broken only by the sound of his own typing or the rustling of papers—or, very rarely, by someone daring to disturb him. But this silence was different. Eris had forgotten how comforting it could be to share a quiet moment with someone.

The last time he felt like this had been back when he and Nesta studied together in the library. That was before the bar exam, when they both lived on energy drinks, coffee, and anything but sleep to make it through. Nesta had been too exhausted to refuse when Eris sat next to her, and Eris... Eris had claimed he was too tired to walk to another table, though, in truth, it had seemed like a good excuse at the time.

Not that he was desperate.

He was definitely desperate.

“Is everything ready?” Nesta asked him.

Eris smirked. “Doubting me, Archeron?”

“You don’t have room for error, Vanserra,” she said firmly. “Or I’ll personally run you over with a car—along with the factory owners.”

He chuckled. He had every reason to believe Nesta would actually do it—and somehow extract compensation from them even posthumously. Maybe by bribing demons in hell? Who knew.

Setting her empty mug on the table, Nesta returned to the case documents, methodically reviewing them one more time. She insisted on preparing for the hearing to the bitter end, while Eris was confident that afterward, they’d be able to settle with the factory owners for a far larger amount than the court would order them to pay.

An hour passed. Then another. And soon they were sitting in Eris’s car on their way to court. Nesta was going over their strategy for the tenth time, while Eris found himself utterly mesmerized by her voice. Well, if he remembered the content of what she was saying, that still counted as listening, didn’t it? Besides, he couldn’t help it. To be completely honest—a rare occurrence for him—Eris would admit he could listen to Nesta talk about anything.

He just liked her voice, and he wasn’t prepared for how much it distracted him. Right now, the only thing saving him was that he was driving, so he could blame the traffic if it seemed like his focus wavered.

“Are you sure you don’t need another coffee?” Nesta asked, arching a brow. “You look like you’re not listening to me at all.”

“I’m listening,” Eris waved her off, glancing at her. And damn, he wished she had different eyes. Because looking into her light blue, soul-piercing gaze made it impossible to come up with a convincing lie. “I don’t need coffee,” he said instead.

They said blue eyes could pierce the soul. Eris felt the same under Nesta's gaze. Every single time. From the day they first met at university when she bluntly told him he only got in because of his parents' money after he made an ill-advised joke about her outfit.

Had Eris been a jerk in his younger days? Yes. But Nesta's presence in his life had been a profoundly humbling experience. She always knew what to say to him. Always knew how to retort to his barbs with sharper ones. Eris had never told her this—and likely never would—but he admired her ability to never back down, to push forward and always match whatever was thrown her way. Venom for venom, kindness for kindness.

For a time, he wanted to work in the same firm as her, but that would’ve been difficult, given their similar ambitions. Nesta wanted to become a partner at her firm, and Eris knew he’d just get in her way. Between him and her, the firm would choose money over talent. As exceptional a lawyer as Nesta was, the Vanserra legacy would tip the scales. So, Eris chose a different firm.

***

The courtroom was tense. Nesta’s cold gaze bore into the factory's lawyers, who lifted their noses, pretending innocence. When it came time for the cross-examination, Eris straightened, rising from his seat, feeling Nesta’s stare on his back.

“Before I ask any questions, I want to ensure you understand the consequences of perjury,” he began.

One of the factory owners sat before him, dressed impeccably, likely hiding a smug smirk, confident they’d get away with it. Eris knew that look too well—and he loved crushing it later.

“I understand,” the owner replied.

“Then you’re aware that you raised the factory’s insurance policy to twenty million dollars.”

“Objection,” the factory’s lawyer called from his seat. “Relevance?”

The judge shook his head, overruling the objection, and Eris suppressed a smirk. “They knew what they were doing. That’s why they conducted a so-called charitable redevelopment and replaced the soil.”

“You have no proof,” the lawyer countered.

“No, we don’t,” Eris admitted, stepping closer to the owner. “But we have the insurance policy your client signed. That policy outlined the exact sum you offered during negotiations, didn’t it?”

“That was a generous offer on our part,” the owner protested.

“No. You’ve been able to pay that amount for a year now,” Eris replied, narrowing his eyes.

The owner fell silent. Eris thought he heard Kallias growl softly in frustration behind him. For someone usually composed, calm, and even cold, Kallias was uncharacteristically emotional about this case.

“And it’s six times the standard insurance amount for factories,” Eris continued, his gaze unwavering. The owner’s eyes darted across the room, seeking help from his lawyers, who clearly couldn’t think of a way to assist. “Tell me, Mr. Attor, what makes this factory so special? What prompted you to insure it for so much more than your other facilities? Remember, you are under oath.”

For a few seconds, Eris held his gaze, staring into the eyes of a man who had calculated the worth of children’s lives and moved on as if nothing had happened. A few seconds felt like an eternity. Just as Eris was about to speak again, not wanting to waste the court’s time, Attor spoke.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, like any spineless businessman would. “I don’t handle the insurance policies.”

Fucker.

Eris merely huffed, returning to his table, where Nesta handed him the necessary documents with an icy glare fixed on Attor. Eris nodded in thanks, walking back to the factory owner.

“Your name is on the policy,” he said coldly, tossing the papers in front of Attor’s face.

“I need to confer with my client,” the lawyer interjected, but the judge denied the request.

“And I need him to answer my question,” Eris said through clenched teeth. “Why such a high insurance amount?”

Attor’s eyes darted around again, more frantically this time. Eris would have enjoyed grinding him into the dirt. The judge stepped in, pressing Attor to answer properly under cross-examination. After several helpless attempts to speak, Attor finally broke.

“Fine!” he barked. “We knew! We took measures that didn’t work. We couldn’t predict it, and the factory was already operational. But we found a way to fix it.”

“Fix it?” Eris echoed coldly, his gaze flicking briefly to the jury, each member watching intently. “You valued the lives of those children at a hundred thousand dollars each, knowingly poisoning them—and that can never be fixed.”

Attor exhaled shakily, his shoulders slumping as he closed his eyes, realizing he’d said too much under pressure. Eris glanced at the lawyer, who was now whispering frantically to Nesta, but her stern glare made it clear—the compensation wouldn’t come cheap.

***

Nesta stayed in Eris’s office as they dealt with the remaining documents. Mostly, they redirected financial burdens to the factory owners, hitting them with hefty bills for anything they could—one of the perks of being skilled lawyers.

Now that they no longer had to stress about the case—which ended with the factory owners paying Kallias one and a half million dollars per child—Nesta couldn’t help but notice a different tension. Like how Eris subtly pulled his hand back whenever they both reached for the same document. Or how he avoided her gaze whenever she looked at him.

Still, she didn’t want to be the first to address the topic. Otherwise, she’d have to answer a question she wasn’t ready to face herself. Why had she kissed him?

Because she was an impulsive fool, her inner voice answered. Though, deep down, she knew the real reason. But admitting it would complicate things even further—because no, she wasn’t about to make a move on Eris Vanserra. Not now, and probably not anytime soon.

“I’m getting coffee. Want some?” Eris interrupted her thoughts as he rose from his chair. Nesta simply nodded, watching him quickly head for the door.

As Eris reached for the door handle, Kallias appeared, wearing a tired but soft smile and carrying a box of expensive whiskey. Eris muttered something about getting coffee and left anyway. Nesta offered Kallias a small smile as he approached the table, setting the box down.

“How are you feeling?” she asked gently.

Kallias straightened his shoulders, clearly buoyed by today’s courtroom success. Of all of them, this case had been hardest on him. Nesta couldn’t imagine how attached someone running an orphanage could be to the children they cared for.

“We’ve managed to secure treatment for all the kids,” he said, much to her relief. “The doctors are optimistic about most of them. For the others… well, now we can ensure their comfort and provide all the necessary medications to minimize their symptoms.”

“That’s wonderful,” Nesta replied sincerely, watching as Kallias leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms. “We’ll make sure the company sends your share as soon as possible.”

Kallias nodded gratefully. “I don’t doubt it. If there’s one thing you and Vanserra excel at, it’s intimidating people,” he chuckled.

“We’re karma incarnate,” Nesta quipped, smirking.

Kallias laughed, nodding in agreement. After a brief pause, he spoke again. “I’m deeply grateful you took this case. I know how much trouble those bastards caused you, and I know Eris could’ve made millions with less hassle elsewhere. But he chose our orphanage. He chose not to abandon those kids. And I wanted to thank you both.”

“I see,” Nesta said, tracing a nail along the edge of the box.

“It’s also an apology for not warning you about the debts,” Kallias added with a wry smile. “My wife Viviane and I are hosting a dinner this Friday. It’s an annual event for our sponsors and to attract new ones, but this time, I’d really like you to attend.”

“Is this you inviting my senior associate to dinner, or is there some context I’m missing?” came Eris’s voice from behind them. Both Nesta and Kallias turned to see him carrying two cups of coffee. He set one in front of Nesta and kept the other for himself, offering none to Kallias. Clearly, Eris had only caught the last part of the conversation, though Nesta doubted he was serious.

Kallias snorted. “I’m married,” he reminded.

“You wouldn’t believe how many ‘married’ people I’ve worked with,” Eris quipped, sipping his coffee. Nesta just rolled her eyes at his sharp tongue.

“Kallias is inviting us to a charity dinner,” she explained. “And we’d be happy to accept.”

Eris just shrugged, as if to say, You heard what she said. Instead of responding verbally, he began examining the whiskey bottle's box with interest, raising an eyebrow.

"From personal collection," Kallias explained as if Eris had accused him of spending the money he'd won from the factory earlier. "I figured after the circus I dragged you into, you'd need a drink."

"Not bad," Eris commented, setting the box back down. "Looking forward to seeing you and Viviane on Friday."

Kallias soon said his goodbyes, mentioning he had plenty of doctor and hospital matters to handle. Eris and Nesta watched him leave, then both turned their gazes to the bottle. Drinking midweek felt like a bad idea for both of them, but...

"Technically, I’m my own boss and can set any schedule I want," Eris said. Nesta just scoffed.

"My workday starts at nine in the morning," she reminded him.

"I’m sure your boss would understand if you’re a couple of hours late tomorrow," Eris shrugged, slipping on his coat. "Besides, I’ve yet to hear anyone turn down an invitation to have a drink at my penthouse."

"Always a pleasure to be the first," Nesta retorted with a smirk, though she was also getting ready to leave. "You could use a little humbling."

Eris simply picked up the whiskey he'd been given and extended his hand. Nesta took it without hesitation, walking with him toward the elevator. Eris’s assistant cast them a brief glance, and Nesta could’ve sworn the woman smirked.

As they stood in the elevator, Nesta couldn’t help but think about what the assistant might be assuming. This was, after all, one of her specialties—overthinking what people thought, then rethinking and overanalyzing... She was talented at thinking too much.

"Elijah’s probably misunderstood the whole thing," she muttered, looking at their reflection in the elevator mirror. Eris stood behind her, one hand holding the whiskey while the other was already tucked into his pocket after letting go of hers. Tall, in his expensive coat, with those strikingly red hair that she found far too attractive. Damn Eris Vanserra and his genetics.

"And what exactly did she misunderstand?" Eris asked quietly, leaning slightly toward her ear, sending a wave of goosebumps down her spine. She definitely needed that whiskey. Preferably right now.

"That you’re breaking workplace ethics and abusing your position," Nesta straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin to meet Eris’s gaze in the reflection. He was watching her just as steadily. "She could report you, you know."

"I’m not breaking workplace ethics with her," Eris chuckled. "I haven’t broken any rules yet; my hands are clean, Archeron. I thought you were well-versed in legal matters."

Nesta rolled her eyes as the elevator chimed, signaling their arrival at the right floor. They both headed toward Eris’s car, more out of habit than conscious decision. Once they were inside, and Eris was starting up his Aston Martin, Nesta warned him that if they ended up drinking, he’d be obliged to either drive her to work in the morning or pay for her cab since she’d left her car in the parking lot. Eris quickly agreed, clearly not considering it a difficult condition.

He hadn’t lied when he said he’d purchased an office close to his home. They arrived very quickly—much faster than the food delivery Nesta insisted on ordering during the drive. It was evening, and Eris had immediately admitted that his place was stocked with little more than water and, if they were lucky, a yogurt or two. To this, Nesta responded that this idiot could buy half the buildings in the district but couldn’t invest in a properly stocked fridge.

"I still don’t understand what’s so hard about buying groceries," Nesta shook her head as they stood in the elevator again, this time leaning against opposite walls.

"I’ve always got delivery services," Eris shrugged, clearly unbothered by his fridge’s state. "And we’ve already ordered food. I even compromised and agreed on sushi."

Nesta muttered something about how disliking sushi should be against nature as they both stepped out of the elevator and headed into his apartment. Eris just laughed, opening the door and letting her in ahead of him.

Eris’s apartment was about what Nesta had expected—minimalist, clean, empty. Nothing out of place, as if everything had been measured with a ruler.

"No signs of life," she remarked, hanging up her coat. Eris hung his next to hers, heading into the kitchen to drop off the whiskey and find glasses.

"I’ll take that as a compliment," he replied.

Nesta continued to look around, turning her head this way and that, now studying the kitchen. She took a seat at the high bar table—not particularly practical. That was one of their differences: Eris didn’t care about whether his furniture was practical for others. His height allowed him to sit at the table comfortably, while Nesta’s first thought upon seeing it was that children could easily fall and hurt themselves.

"Behold, I’ve found cheese," Eris announced, peering into the fridge. Nesta couldn’t help but laugh at how simple that sounded. Eris had never struck her as simple before, and he still wasn’t, but there was something amusing—and even endearing—about the way he proudly showed her the cheese, as if it were some kind of treasure.

"Wow, we won’t starve after all," she replied sarcastically as Eris rummaged through the drawers for a knife and a cutting board. "And we won’t get completely drunk before the food arrives."

Seeing that he clearly had no experience cutting food, Nesta watched him struggle for a few moments before clicking her tongue and taking the knife from his hands. She quickly sliced the cheese with practiced efficiency, pushing him aside.

Eris muttered something under his breath, watching her, before they settled into his spacious living room. Twenty minutes later, the sushi arrived. By then, the whiskey had been poured into glasses, and they were chatting.

"You chased Cassian with an axe?" Eris laughed, nearly spilling whiskey on the white couch.

Nesta shrugged, smirking as she popped another warm roll into her mouth. "It was deserved."

"I don’t doubt it," Eris said, raising his hands in a mock gesture of surrender.

"I’m serious. It was so long ago—I was a little more hotheaded then," they both snorted at the word "little," "and it drove me insane how, after everything that happened the night before, he had the audacity to cheerfully say, ‘Good morning.’ Seriously, ‘good morning’? I bailed him out of jail because his dumb ass got into trouble while drunk."

Eris just shook his head, pushing his portion of warm rolls closer to her while stealing one of her Philadelphia rolls. Nesta didn’t put up much of a protest.

"Good to know you’ll show up to my office with an axe if something doesn’t suit you," he joked.

Nesta arched a brow at him, leaning back into the plush cushions of his couch. She toyed with her glass, swirling the amber liquid inside before taking a slow sip.

"I wouldn’t waste an axe on you, Vanserra," she said, her voice smooth but laced with challenge. "Too dramatic. I’d find something subtler."

"Subtler, huh?" Eris leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he mirrored her gaze. "I’d almost be offended if that didn’t sound equally dangerous. What would you use then? Poison? A lawsuit? Maybe just a sharp tongue—your usual weapon of choice."

Nesta smirked, her lips curving just enough to be maddening. "You’d deserve it either way."

"Would I?" His tone dropped, laced with playful skepticism, but there was something darker in the way his eyes dragged over her face, lingering just a beat too long on her lips.

Nesta didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. She tilted her head, the faintest challenge gleaming in her eyes. "I always have good reasoning, so don’t tempt me." She couldn’t ignore the way his gaze had shifted, as if studying her every move. It sent a ripple of heat down her spine, one that she stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

"Tempt you?" Eris asked, raising a brow as he leaned forward, resting an arm casually along the back of the couch. His eyes gleamed with teasing. "That’s not the word I’d use for what I’m doing."

Nesta narrowed her eyes at him, swirling the amber liquid in her glass. "And what exactly do you think you’re doing?"

Eris tilted his head slightly, considering her. "Testing your patience, apparently. And maybe my own."

"You’ve been testing my patience since the moment we met," she replied with a snort.

Eris chuckled. "And yet here you are. In my home. On my couch."

Nesta arched a brow. "Because you bribed me with whiskey and takeout. Hardly a groundbreaking strategy."

"I didn’t hear you complain," he countered smoothly. "So careful, Nesta. I might think you’re enjoying yourself here."

Her scoff was immediate, though her lips twitched as if she were fighting off a smile, the flush creeping up her neck betrayed her. "You’re insufferable."

"And you’re here," he countered smoothly.

Nesta opened her mouth to retort, but the sound of her phone buzzing on the table cut her off. She glanced at the screen—Cassian’s name lit up the display.

Eris noticed immediately, a flicker of something sharp flashing across his face before he masked it with an easy smile. "You’re welcome to answer that, of course. But if you do, I reserve the right to confiscate your phone for the rest of the night. House rules."

Nesta arched a brow at him, clearly unimpressed. "Confiscate my phone? Try it and see what happens."

The challenge was clear, and for a moment, Eris looked like he might just take her up on it. Instead, he reached for the whiskey bottle, pouring her another glass. "Your choice. Though I’d hate for you to miss out on this exquisite company."

"Exquisite?" Nesta drawled, accepting the drink. "That’s a strong word for someone who thinks finding cheese is an achievement."

"You wound me," Eris said, his smirk growing. He leaned back, his long frame stretching out on the couch as he watched her. "But don’t worry. I’ve got thick skin. And an even thicker skull, apparently, since I keep letting you stick around to insult me."

Nesta met his gaze, her smirk mirroring his. "Maybe you enjoy it."

His eyes darkened just slightly, a flicker of something unmistakable passing over his features. "Maybe I do."

She felt her pulse skip, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she leaned back, matching his casual posture, and arched a brow. "Careful, Vanserra. You might regret saying that."

Eris tilted his head, his smile more wolfish now. "Careful, Archeron. You might be underestimating me."

Nesta's gaze lingered on his lips, curved into that damn smirk she shouldn’t have found as attractive as she did. Now it felt like they were sitting too close. Eris was right there, and she couldn’t help but notice the slight flush on his cheeks from the whiskey. Her own cheeks were probably just as red.

The light teasing, the subtle flirting—it was all so familiar. And yet, Nesta felt that if they stayed like this for even a few more seconds, she was bound to do something impulsive again. Especially with his lips so close and Eris himself clearly not opposed to the idea.

But before she could act on the reckless thought blooming in her mind, her phone buzzed again. She remembered she needed to take the call, even though every fiber of her being wanted to ignore Cassian. What could he possibly need from her at nine o’clock on a weekday evening?

Nesta sighed, pulling back from Eris and reaching for her phone before answering.

“Nes, hey,” Cassian’s voice came through, sounding uncharacteristically tense. “You need to come here. Now. It's very urgent.”

[eggshell-skull-rule]

My best law school friend is ten years younger than me. We met in our criminal law workshop first year. We started studying together and found we'd formed an easy friendship.

She is a good Punjabi girl and I feel like a bit of an uncultured delinquent beside her. She doesn't date and doesn't drink, except a sneaky sip of bubbly at the law ball which she didn't tell her parents about. When I'm invited to her home we cook together, go to Gurdwara in the evening, and watch films under blankets with her whole family.

While I've never been WILD, I skirt around some parts of my story because I don't want to be a bad influence or lower in her esteem.

I had my 21st in a strip club where I was the topless bar manager (I've had a lot of lapdances). I had 14 piercings, Cruella De Vil hair, and shaved pubes. I smoked, I drank. I've peddled dildos in a bikey- owned sex shop. I've gone with bad men and there's probably revenge porn of me out there. I have been in some really bad places.

I run with musicians and artists and their hedonist influences. I'm tattooed and scarred from frog venom ceremonies in the desert. I've been fired from two jobs and I don't have a driver's license. At least I don't have a criminal record (but I've sold a lot of crackpipes in my time so it's only that I've stayed lucky...)

Believe it or not I'm actually pretty shy and reclusive. Introverted. (Sagittarius sun, Pisces moon, Virgo rising). I'm soft- spoken and modestly dressed. I'm not a wild party girl, just open to people and experiences. Most days I'm reading and don't want to go out at all. When the stars align I might burst- you'll find me licking MDs off someone's boob and dancing on the table.

My friend thinks it's pretty exciting that I've ever ordered a cocktail. She looks to me as a real- life grown- up (a lease, independent finances, getting married). It's true, I am, but she has a far more mature attitude than I did at 21. I spent my 20s doing whatever the hell I pleased (extended teenagehood really), worked out some trauma, and now here I am trying to get a useful career in my 30s.

She's just earnestly working towards her future. She'll start dating and properly consider marriage proposals after she graduates.

She called me before starting her internship, stressed and asking my advice on what to wear and how to act (I HAVE been properly dressed and in a more respected field for years now). I was STONED and waffled on about the value of a collared shirt and the professional skill of remembering names while I smoked cigarettes and sipped wine and told her to be her own beautiful self.

I am growing up into some kind of woman, hey.

[deathwishy]

x MARVEL CROSSOVER x

Marinette knew that Tom Dupain wasn't her biological father. Nonetheless, she loved him and he loved her. He married her mother when she was two and have been inseparable ever since.

On the other side, her biological father was a prick.

He first came to visit her after she developed a ... rather interesting set of abilities. She was five when that happened. Her mother had somehow contacted him and, even though he doubted it, he came.

It is safe to say that he was beyond shocked when he saw that Marinette was his spitting image, not counting the blue eyes. She had a mischievous smile and sharp eyes, carrying herself like royalty, worthy of the title of the daughter of the god of mischief.

That day, Loki found out he had a demigoddess daughter.

While he was reluctant at first, the little girl grew on him. He visited at least twice a month, mainly to help her control her powers but also to let her know that he actually cared about her, to ensure that he wasn't with her like his father was with him. No other Asgardian knew about Marinette and he would like to keep it that way. There was no need for his brother of father to swoop in and ruin everything.

As the years passed their bond became unbreakable. Marinette still thought that Loki was a prick and an idiot at times but she wouldn't have it any other way. Life was boring anyway, why not sprinkle it with a little bit of mischief?

When she became Ladybug, he knew. He called out Tikki as soon as he stepped in her room and her parents were out of hearing range.

"Tikki, you can come out. You should know better by now."

Marinette was dumbfounded when the goddess came out from behind some books, with a pout and with her arms crossed.

"I knew it. Trixx did say that you came to Midgard and Marinette looks like a miniature female version of yourself."

"I'm actually surprised the guardian gave her the Ladybug miraculous. I would've guessed she would have been a better fox."

"She is a very good match for me too. Her soul is a creative one, but yes, she would be a perfect fox."

"Um... Can I get in the loop too?"

The two gods turned to her. Marinette had her arms crossed, tapping her foot on the floor. Loki gave her a sheepish smile.

"I am a God, Marigold, I do know the other gods too."

The day passed talking with the two deities about all sorts of things, Tikki especially scolding him for the New York disaster, Marinette joining her. It happened before she was born so even if he changed it was still a horrible thing

"Look, daddy issues are a pain to deal with. I was very angry."

"Dad, it's no excuse to be an asshole."

"I know." Loki rolled his eyes then grinned. "But what's this I'm hearing about from Tikki about a boy?"

Marinette flushed, glaring at the offender, now munching on a cookie, her eyes sparkling with laughter. She was shaking her head and vigorously gesturing with her hands.

"Nope. I'm not talking with you about this and, Odin forbid, if I see you around him I'll cut your macaron supply."

Loki only raised his hands in surrender, laughing heartedly. He wouldn't dare cross his daughter, so he swore, between tears of laughter, that he would keep his distance.

"But if he breaks your heart I'll throw him in Jotunheim."

                                                         ...

A few years later, when Lila came around he knew. There was no mistaking the dimming of the fire in her soul. He could see that she didn't want to talk about it by the way she was dodging the subject so he had to take the matter in his own hands.

He shapeshifted into a horsefly and flew after her when she went to school. It took a lot of his power to hide from Marinette's sight but if was worth it. Now he knew why she started closing in on herself.

Loki could admire a good lie. After all he was the god of trickery, lies and deceit. But this girl spouting off the worst lies he ever heard. Not only were they ridiculous, they were also completely devoid of any drop of truth. That was the base of any good lie, and she was lacking it entirely. What confused him more what that some of her classmates believed her. Only a handful others didn't seem to believe her, one of which was a blond boy that looked at the leech, glued to his hand, with disgust. By his aura Loki assumed he was the holder of the Black Cat.

He confronted Marinette when she came back from school. Some of the lies were concerning, they were hurting his daughter and he couldn't let it fly. He assumed the harpy was set on Marinette because she wouldn't buy her lies. That was not surprising, she could see even though his best lies.

"I know, Marigold."

Marinette knew what he meant. She inhaled deeply and looked around.

"Can we go somewhere else, outside of Paris?"

The furrowed his brows, getting more concerned by the second. He couldn't read her in that moment. He could read most people like an open book, but that was his daughter. She knew how to hide things from him.

"Yes. Tell your parents, we don't want to concern them."

After she told her parents that she would go with Loki on a short trip, he opened a portal to a high rooftop over a city. She could feel the darkness of it, potent and corrupting. She figured that was why her father would bring her there, no one would notice them. As soon as the portal closed, she broke down. She hugged him, crying into his chest.

"I'm so tired, dad. The responsibility of Ladybug, Lila and her lies, half of my class turned against me, Hawkmoth just sending out akuma after akuma, it's just so much."

He let her cry, hugging her closely and patting her head. Even after all these years he didn't know how to properly comfort his daughter but it was something he actively was working for.

"But I assume you still don't want me to help?"

"The Avengers or The Justice League would notice if you do something. I managed to keep them away, for the time being, but I doubt they would hesitate coming if they heard that you came into a highschool, knives flying after a teenage girl or if you burnt down half of Paris searching for Hawkmoth."

She sighed, sitting on the edge of roof.

"I can handle it, I think. It's hard but I can manage it. I have Chat Noir and the others, we will succeed."

"You know that I will always be by your side if you need me, right?"

"Of course, dad." She hugged him once more, not letting go for some time.

When she calmed down, she asked him to get them to Paris.

"Dad, where was that? I've never felt a more malicious feeling to a place in my entire life."

"Gotham City. That place holds a centuries long curse."

Marinette nodded then hugged her father one more time before he left. She then went on her balcony, sketchbook and laptop in her hands. The afternoon sun was providing perfect lighting for sketching. She set aside the sketchbook for the moment, opening the laptop. She heard about Gotham from Alya when she was gushing about the vigilantes. She wasn't especially interested about them so she listened politely but forgot everything the next day.

Gotham was dubbed the Crime Capital, which was not surprising. The maliciousness surrounding the city was overwhelming, even if she was there for only a few minutes short of an hour. She could only imagine what that could do to the locals. A meeting with Fu after her patrol that night was mandatory.

Apparently he knew about the situation in Gotham. An old friend kept him updated. He confessed that he wanted to talk with her about it but decided to tell her when she was prepared. Fighting that kind of corruption would be hard and it would take years. They decided to put a pin in it and deal with it after they defeated Hawkmoth. Marinette did NOT need this on her plate now.

                                                          ...

Things got a little complicated when Wonder Woman decided to drop by. It was night, just a few hours after an akuma attack. Ladybug had to patrol on her own, Chat Noir was held back in his civilian life. She caught Ladybug on the Eiffel Tower, just when she was finishing her round.

"Ladybug."

"Wonder Woman. I wasn't aware that you would be coming by."

"I apologize, but this is important. Your presence is required at a summit between The Avengers and The Justice League. Some discussions will be about the situation in Paris and as the city is in your jurisdiction, you are invited to attend."

Marinette felt like she didn't tell the whole truth but agreed, under the condition to bring Chat Noir too. They were a team.

Loki wanted to come along but Marinette shot the idea down quickly. The was a chance that Thor would notice and everything would go south very quickly. She didn't need an international incident on her hands. The others didn't trust Loki but they were civil with each other after the brothers made amends and he helped them a couple of times. Still, she didn't think they would appreciate Marinette bringing an unauthorized guest.

                                                           ...

A few weeks later they were in a secret base in the Alps. After she got the coordinates of the location she used the horse miraculous to get there. They were fairly early, only a few members of both teams being present. Batman with his team, Thor, Wonder Woman, Black Widow, Winter Soldier and Green Arrow.

Batman was the first one to greet her, soon after she closed the portal.

"Tikki, Kaalki, divide."

The horse kwami landed in her hand, where a sugar cube was waiting for her. She then nestled on top of her head. She slid the glasses there too, for easy access, just in case.

"Ladybug, glad you could come." Batman greeted her cordially. She shook his outstretched hand.

"Of course. After all, I was said this was concerning us."

Before Batman could say anything, a man dressed in black, with a blue bird symbol on his chest jumped in front of her, grinning like a child.

"I can't believe it, you are a real magical girl!"

Ladybug took a step back, blinking, a little shocked by the grown man's reaction.

"Tt. Nightwing, be professional."

"Yeah Wingman, you're going to scare the little Pixie."

"Ignore them, they are idiots." Said one of them, coming beside her. She identified him as Red Robin, one of Batman's... Associates? It felt wrong to call him a sidekick. That would be Robin.

"Red Robin. The idiots there are Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin."

"Pleasure meeting you." She smiled to them warmly. Robin narrowed his eyes, looking at her head.

"What is that?" He asked, taking a step closer to take a better look. Kaalki flew in his face, indignated.

"I'm a goddess, you oaf." Robin took a step back, hands on his katana, shocked by the little goddesses reaction. She narrowed her eyes, suddenly tamer. "Are you famous?" Robin was sputtering, clearly not prepared for the change in her demeanor.

Red Hood burst out laughing.

"Fucking hell, his face. I've never been more grateful for the camera in my helmet."

"Kwami don't show up on camera, but his face definitely will." Chat Noir pointed out. He went beside Ladybug, up until then scanning the compound. "I'm Chat Noir, the fabulous purr-tner of Ladybug, at your service." He made a mock bow, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Ladybug, Red Robin, Red Hood and Robin groaned.

"Not ANOTHER ONE!"

"Tt. I can't handle two of them. I'll inevitably going to break the no killing rule."

"Um, what's going on?" Ladybug turned to Red Robin, who was grimacing.

"Nightwing." He said, giving her a pitying look.

"Oh, come on, it can't be that claw-ful." Retorted Nightwing. Chat Noir lit up like a Christmas tree.

"My lady, see. I was sure I was feline a fellow paw-nner nearby."

"Kill me." Ladybug and Red Robin said at the same time. They looked at each other and laughed.

As more heroes were arriving, Ladybug introduced herself to each of them. She tensed a bit when Thor came beaming at her.

"Ah! I haven't seen the miraculous for centuries! I am not really that familiar with the Chinese Miracle Box but I did encounter a wielder of Trixx."

She smiled tightly listening to his encounter with Fylja. She knows from her father about her, a trickster just like him, who managed to seduce Thor and steal Mjolnir and hide it. Thor decided to omit that detail. He liked the young hero but something seemed oddly familiar about her.

When Aquaman came, he looked very uncomfortable with his proximity to Chat Noir. He was cordial but kept his distance after finishing introductions. Chat Noir did tell her once that Plagg said that he was the one who sank Atlantis. It was a real story, apparently.

Ladybug preferred the company of Red Robin. They had a lot of things in common, from mutual interests to similar experiences as heroes. He asked a lot of questions without being invasive or trying to find out things about her civilian life and actually seemed interested about her answers. She actually blushed when Nightwing called them cute. She could see with the corner of her eyes how Chat Noir was wiggling his eyebrows but swooped up the other boys when they started teasing them.

"Everyone is here. Only the official members of the Justice League and the Avengers are allowed, as well as Ladybug and Chat Noir. The rest will stay here." Wonder Woman announced, leaving the rest of the young heroes pouting and protesting.

Ladybug turned to Red Robin and gave him a wave.

"See you after."

"Definitely." He grinned, making her blush.

Chat Noir came beside her, smiling knowingly.

"At least you're not a stuttering mess this time."

"Shut up you alley cat, that was four years ago."

"So you do like him." He smiled even wider. Ladybug blushed furiously, punching him in the ribs. He only giggled.

"Nightwing and Red Hood owe me 50 dollars."

"You're unbelievable."

All the heroes were seated at a circular table, everyone having an assigned seat. Even Ladybug and Chat Noir, their symbols gleaming brand new on the backs of the black chairs.

"The summit begins. We are now gathered here to discuss the Paris situation." Superman began, opening a slide on the projector.

Ladybug narrowed her eyes. It became obvious that they called the summit just for this. They were trying to take control. She clenched her fists, but didn't say anything. She hoped this wasn't what it looked like. She put her hand on Chat Noir's shoulder when he looked like he wanted to say something. She squeezed twice. ' I got this.'

"Ladybug, Chat Noir, it's been four and a half years since Hawkmoth has been active and so far we haven't seen much progress. The akumas seem to become more powerful and aggressive and the damage to Paris greater each time. We think you might be over your heads."

"What we are trying to say," Batman stood up, glaring at Superman for his lack of tact, "is that the situation is becoming increasingly difficult and we feel the need to intervene. We know that you are young, let us help you."

"You are kids, we can tell. We thought that because of the nature of the miraculous you will be able to neutralize the threat in due time, seeing as it's the same type of magic." Added Captain America.

"We trusted that you could handle it, as you said, but some of us already have doubts." Iron Man said, crossing his arms.

"Your miraculous might not be enough this time. But that's ok. We want this to end as much as you do." Professor Banner added, looking at them like he was explaining to children why they couldn't cross the street when the traffic light was red.

Most of the heroes didn't notice the way the two young heroes narrowed their eyes, faces darkening, but some, mostly those who knew the power of the miraculous, did. Aquaman was uneasy, a sense of foreboding dawning over him, Wonder Woman looked like she didn't know what her peers were going to say. She stood still, but tense, like preparing for an attack. She knew they were somewhat right, but that wasn't the way to help them. Green Lantern was leaning in his seat like he wanted it to eat him. Thor looked around the table, damning every one of them present. They were going to get them killed. Black Widow was glaring at Banner, knowing what his words did to the Parisians by their increasing straining to say nothing and stay in place. Batman was following them carefully. Something about the two of them screamed danger.

Then Superman dropped the bomb.

"So, effective immediately, we take jurisdiction of the city of..."

He was cut off by a sudden boom reverberating through the room. All heroes jumped in a battle stance. When there was no threat in sight, they looked at Ladybug, who had made a dent in the table with her fist. Her eyes were entirely blue. But it was not her usual color, it was an icy blue, that could freeze the fires of hell. Thor held his breath. They looked exactly like frost giant eyes. And familiar ones.

"How. Dare. You."

She didn't yell but the heroes could feel the ice in their veins.

"For four years we've been tirelessly fighting an emotional prying bastard, while controlling our own to the point where it seems that we have none, handling our civilian lives at the same time, trying to minimize the destruction of Paris even though we new the cure with bring everything back to normal, tending to our citizens after they've been akumatized, ensuring they would get therapy and support, even stopping minor crimes around the city and you have the balls to say that we are in over our heads?! We may be but we are handling it way better than any of you do! You are not one to speak, Superman. Metropolis gets trashed every other week with you're messy fights, and there is no cure. You obviously have no regard of the destruction or the victims most of the time. The rest of you are mostly the same. But there is no one getting in your way saying that you're doing a horrible job and trying to replace you. And if there is, gods forbid, you just send them to prison or in a mental asylum. You have NO right to criticize our ways when yours are statistically worse!"

Both the Justice League and the Avengers were silent and wide eyed. Thor was the first to recover. Her eyes went back to normal after she finished but there was no mistake. The girl wasn't human.

"Who are you?" He pointed his hammer at Ladybug. She rolled her eyes.

"Put that down, you're not intimidating anyone."

"Those were frost giant eyes. Answer me or perish."

"Dad would not appreciate the perish part, you know."

The Avengers and the Leaguers were now exchanging confused looks. What were they supposed to do? What was that about? After exchanging glances, they remained silent, watching the exchange curiously.

"What are you talking about?" Thor retorted, now gripping Mjolnir tighter.

"I guess this is as a bad time as any but... Hello uncle."

It wasn't ideal but she couldn't have both the Justice League and the Avengers trying to arrest her. She took the yo-yo from her hip and slid it open. She scrolled through her contacts and tapped the one named 'The God of Bullshit'. After a few beeps, during which the heroes were recovering from their stupor, Loki's face appeared on the screen.

"Daughter dearest. What's the matter, are the others bothering you?" He said in a sarcastic sweet voice. She rolled her eyes then pointed the screen towards Thor.

"L'Oréal blond knows."

After a few seconds Loki starts laughing like a maniac.

"This is the best way they could've found out. This is PERFECT."

Thor walks in wide strides to an unimpressed Ladybug and takes the yo-yo from her hand.

"I have a niece and you didn't TELL ME!"

"Of course not. You pieces of shit are not worthy of the presence of my daughter. I don't know why she even agreed to come to the meeting. She is doing a wonderful job in Paris and does not need any interference. Beware, brother, if you upset her I'll come for your heads. I have to go now, see you soon, daughter."

Ladybug closed her yo-yo and looked around the room.

"I don't care what you decided. Paris is my city. You don't come barging just because you think you can do a better job. And yes, I'm the daughter of Loki but that doesn't mean that I have bad intentions. I'm a hero as much as you are. Now, have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Ladybug." Wonder Woman was the first to respond. Even if she was a daughter of Loki, the young hero earned her respect. She stood her ground against them and made her point crystal clear.

The rest of the heroes agree, though some reluctantly.

"Now, I agreed to come here mainly because I wanted to say that I have a strong lead. Hawkmoth may soon fall."

After some other arguments with some of the reluctant heroes and a few protests that were quickly shot down by Ladybug and her supporters, the heroes dispersed. She and Chat Noir were between the last ones to leave, having a shushed conversation while the others left.

"We will discuss it back in Paris. But yes, it's true."

"So you're a half goddess?"

"Demigoddess, but yes."

"That is awesome."

When they entered the hall, they saw it was almost empty. She was disappointed that maybe Red Robin left until he was in front of her. He gripped her shoulders and looked in her eyes.

"I think I'm in love with you. That was the greatest hero smack down in history."

She was a blushing mess by the time the other boys and Batman came around. They were all snickering, even Batman and Robin.

"How did you..."

"Father turned his com on when he saw that you looked like you were ready to kill someone."

"B, you are not allowed to adopt her under any circumstances, do you understand me? We do not need another sister."

"Yeah Bats, don't ruin your only chance at grandkids."

Now Red Robin was blushing too.

"So... You don't care about the Loki thing?"

"We noticed that he toned down a few years ago. We didn't know why. Now it makes sense."

"Yeah, trust me, you're not the only one with a villainous parent 'round here." Red Rood pointed, putting his elbow on Robin's shoulder. The latter looked like he wanted to rip it off.

"And you are clearly taking your job seriously. Even father respects your efforts."

"I didn't intend to make you feel like you are not good enough. We wanted to help you, but it got out of hand. I apologize."

"Apology accepted. I understand where you're coming from, but trust me. This is coming to an end. Soon."

When the Bats were going to the zeta tubes and Ladybug was merging the horse miraculous with her own, Red Robin stayed behind. He handed her a phone.

"It's a non traceable phone. Of you ever want to talk, my number is programmed in there. I really enjoyed our conversation"

She took the phone, smiling brightly.

"I did too. Thank you."

She pulled him into a hug. He hugged her back, kissing her on the cheek then running to the zeta tubes. Her cheeks were as red as her suit. She touched the place where he kissed her, smiling like an idiot.

"Aww, I'm going to die of fluff. I ship it."

"Shut up." She grumbled but still smiling.

                                                           ...

A few months later Hawkmoth’s reign of terror came to an end. It was messy and heartbreaking but they were finally free. Adrien was exonerated by both the Justice League and the Avengers when accusations started to appear in the media. Not wanting to live with the Graham de Vanily’s, Adrien was taken in by Selina Kyle a.k.a Catwoman. It was quite fitting.

They have revealed their identities during the battle when they had to recharge and barely found one place to detransform. When they had the Butterfly and Peacock miraculous secured and Gabriel and Nathalie in police custody, they swung to the Eiffel Tower and collapsed there on each other, crying their hearts out for the first time in five years. Loki got there at some point but he kept his distance, understanding that it was their time. That was how they were found by the Justice League and the Avengers. Huddled together on the railing, not talking, with Loki next to them, smiling serenely. Thor almost had a heart attack. When she noticed that Red Robin came too, she ran to him and kissed him like the world almost ended, which almost actually did.

Fu passed guardianship to Marinette not long after, deeming her ready.

After everything was solved in Paris and the trials of Gabriel, Nathalie and Lila, for her aiding Hawkmoth, were done, Marinette began her first mission as Guardian. Cleanse Gotham.

Soon, a new vigilante, with a black fox theme, swung through Gotham with the Bats and Tim Drake appeared in public with his new girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

When I first saw what the prompt for today was I had no idea what to write. I didn’t want to do the class trip to New York so I took my favorite character, Loki obviously, and brainstormed. This came out. I don’t know if this has been done before but I love biodad!Loki.

So this is approximately 4326 words (I added and edited things on here so I don't know for sure) which is a new record. I did enjoy writing this. Maybe I will do something biodad!Loki again in the future, it's fun to write.

And as a sidenote, Marinette can lift Mjolnir.

@timari-month-event​

[thedevilsrain]

I’m sorry Jimmy Page did WHAT?? Can you expand on all that??? (I know he sucked but wooooooowww it just gets worse and worse doesn’t it?)

yea man sure!

(put under a readmore, it gets upsetting)

so this part, you can just fill under "gossip", nothin exactly criminal here, its just to show that hes an asshole. in 1970 (when he was a well grown adult of 26) he got married to a woman, then proceeded to cheat on her (will elaborate. dont worry) for a decade, including when she was pregnant and when she had her baby

now the actual, like, criminal part (and if i get any "well thats not under the age of consent" comments i swear to god)... this is pretty widely known, widely available information, widely photographed, widely in newspapers, that he had a "relationship" with a 13 year old girl, who herself used the term "basically kidnapped" to describe how richard cole took her to JP's hotel room. heres a source, here's another, and here's the entire wikipedia tab dedicated to it

this next part is complicated, because i'm assuming it's not something people hear much about, even if it is one of the first news that show up when you google jason bonham's name. he appeared on the howard stern show (no comments lol) and commented how, when he was sixteen, JP, himself an addict, gave him cocaine

BUT, two weeks later, he retracted the statements, and gave a PR response on his website how all of it was untrue. heres a source and a screenshot in case roIIing stones goes to shit

like i said. it is complicated. he retracted the statement, but i just cannot imagine someone making up a story (especially someone like bonham) that someone as rich and famous and important as page would give him hard drugs as a teenager

not only that, i think everyone has at least one story of a family friend offering them something when they were a little too young. but thats just me

back to gossip! like the leo after him, he keeps getting older, but they say the same! 79 year old page has been in a relationship of six years with professional 33 year old weirdgirl poet scarIett sabet (who, fun fact, is over a decade younger than his oldest daughter of the same name!) since 2014, when she was 24 years old and he was 70! however, they've admitted to knowing each other since she was twenty-two! source here, an source there!

he was also married to jimena gómez-paratcha from the mid-90s, when she was around 23 and he was around 50, to 2008, in a period where they had two children, and he adopted her daughter! source here

and thats it! a callout post for a recently 79 year old millionaire. being genuinely serious, however, i dont judge nor care abt people who like him. some people have their limits on who they like, some don't, and thats fine. the world is a beautiful sphere of contradictions. but i do hope this explains why i am filled with dread every time i see that man's balding, frog looking grin. maybe it's just his ponytail really

[perfectlymarilynmonroe]

Hey babe, I had a q about your last photo caption. The bit about Marilyn refusing to be a kept woman is somewhat misleading to me- didn't she live with Johnny Hyde for a time, and didn't his influence grant her favorable notice during casting for films like The Asphalt Jungle? Maybe I'm not remembering correctly, but I don't think their relationship was precisely sexual even if he clearly doted on her for a time. Obvi she got further on her own merit, but I do think that's an oft unexplored moment in her life that was definitely instrumental because of her choice to link up with him. Just wondering about your thoughts on this! Love the blog <3

Hi! Thank you for your sweet comments about my blog :) Sorry for the delay in response, but I wanted to give a thorough response to this. I’ve actually received a couple of comments on Instagram lately regarding this, and I don’t mind addressing this confusion.

*Disclaimer to everyone reading: This is based on the research I have done and is to address a number of issues. This isn’t to glorify Marilyn or deny any flaws or imperfections, but to state the facts. I’m publicly sharing this so I can later refer back to it. It’s a longer response to answer any follow-up questions I may get but, of course, you can still ask any you may have. ♡♡

--

It can be deceiving, but I think the bigger concern is what she took for what she got, rather than vise versa. If she was looking to be a gold-digging, role-stealing actress, she would have married Hyde the minute he asked her to. She would have inherited his millions and could have bought her way through Hollywood. For a young woman with hardly anything, she chose herself and said no. 

Just before she met him, she was getting help from John Carroll and Lucille Ryman, so when she said, Johnny was the first to believe in her, that isn’t entirely true. Due to her lack of a father-figure as a child I think that when she saw the belief in her from a man like Johnny, at a reputable agency, who was willing to do anything for her, she latched on to it.

Hyde’s co-workers at William Morris later reported being furious with him because he slowly began to abandon his other clients and focused only on helping her. In the case of The Asphalt Jungle, since you asked, it was actually the help of both Hyde and Lucille Ryman that she was given an audition. However, director John Huston later said she didn’t get the “role because of Hyde...she got it because she was damn good.”

In my personal opinion, based on the facts, whether did not sleep with Johnny - some historians even refuse to believe they were ever sexually involved - it was never for roles, auditions, etc. As I mentioned, if it were, she would have married him, taken his money, and used that to her advantage. She actually stopped seeing him - both  personally and professionally - by Fall 1949 because she was so sick and tired of being called, “Mrs. Johnny Hyde” by him and hearing from colleges that he was calling her his wife. 

When it came to being a “kept” woman, she was referring to the large number of “casting directors” or studio execs, etc, who faked an upcoming film to lure her into their office and attempt to seduce her, or held their hand on her thigh while she auditioned, almost forced her, etc... and each time she managed to walk out. 

She wrote an article entitled, “The Wolves I’ve Know” that was published in a number of places like Motion Picture in 1953, The New York Daily News, and more. When she met with Ben Hecht for her autobiography interviews, she also spoke of them and it was published in a London newspaper in August 1954, and in Australian magazines in 1955.

He did leave his family and move into a bigger place and invited her to live there, but she never officially moved in. She did spend quite a bit of her time there, but by early Spring she was living on her own and was very low on rent. This is why she posed nude on red velvet in May 1949. She admitted to thinking of asking men she knew for money to help her, but felt she wouldn’t have been able to forgive herself, and it made her sick to even think of it.

For everyone reading this, remember, she was twenty-three. She was still a very young girl and had grown up with little guidance in her life. She was abused, and was in and out of so many school and homes, she was never taught how to do things. She figured it out on her own, and of course, like anyone in that situation, maybe didn’t always make the best decisions or have the best thoughts.

--

I know this answer was very long, but I felt I needed to address a number of points because things are rarely black and white - especially for Marilyn Monroe, who is the subject of much scrutiny, then and now - and there are many things to consider in regards to a sensitive subject like this! 

I hope I’m not missing anything, but I hope it answers your question! xo

--

Below is a list of various quotes said by Marilyn that I hope everyone will find helpful :)

From “The Wolves I’ve Known” published in The New York Times:

The first real wolf I encountered should have been ashamed of himself because he was trying to take advantage of a mere kid. That’s all I was and I wasn’t suspicious of him at all when he stopped his car at a corner and started to talk to me.

He looked at me all over and then came up with that famous line: “You ought to be in pictures.” That was the first time I’d ever heard it, so it didn’t sound corny to me.

He told me he had an office at the Goldwyn studio and said why didn’t I come and see him and he would get me a screen test. It sounded pretty good to me because I was crazy to get into the movies.

I was modeling at that time and I asked the people who ran the agency where I got my jobs what they thought of his offer. The manager called the studio but never was able to get in touch with my would-be benefactor. However, the wolf called the agency and I made an appointment to go to his office on Saturday afternoon.

I didn’t know then that the producers and other movie officials don’t make Saturday afternoon appointments. I found that out later. I also found out that he didn’t really have any connection with the Goldwyn studio but had borrowed a friend’s office.

He was fat and jovial and, of course, drove a Cadillac. He gave me a script to read and told me how to pose while reading it. All the poses had to be reclining, although the words I was reading didn’t seem to call for that position.

--

Of course, there are other ways a girl could survive until another studio came along. A starlet could take on a lover, usually a well-heeled married man who could pay her bills, or she could become the mistress to an old man and through his connections help advance her career. Believe me, there were and still are many starstruck girls that do get by that way. But for myself, respect is one of life’s greatest treasures. I mean, what does it all add up to if you don’t have that? If there [is] only one thing in my life I [am] proud of, it’s that I’ve never been a kept woman.  

And believe me, it wasn’t because there weren’t opportunities to become one. I think I had as many problems as the next starlet keeping the Hollywood wolves from my door. These wolves just could not understand me. They would tell me, “But Marilyn, you’re not playing the game the way you should. Be smart. You’ll never get anywhere in this business acting the way you do.” My answer to them would be, “The only acting I’ll do is for the motion picture camera.” I was determined, no one was going to use me or my body—even if he could help my career. I’ve never gone out with a man I didn’t want to. No one, not even the studio, could force me to date someone.

You can’t sleep your way into being a star. It takes much, much more. But it helps. A lot of actresses got their first chance that way. Most of the men are such horrors, they deserve all they can get out of them!

The one thing I hate more than anything else is being used. I’ve always worked hard for the sake of someday becoming a talented actress. I knew I would make it someday if I only kept at it and worked hard without lowering my principles and pride in myself.

[mrchalamet-mrstyles]

Honestly sometimes I think armie is bisexual, I mean he just can't stop flirting with men at all, but on the other side all the kinky rumors that exists about him only mention sexual relationships with women, so basically I'm confused right now. Do u think he is straight or bi?

I don’t think I have a straight answer for this, anon- pardon the pun. This may go long, and for that I am sorry, but also, this is simply how I see things, as a queer woman born and raised in the deep south as a southern Baptist. I’m sure growing up, I heard and saw a lot of the same things he experienced in that sort of community and a family that was religious.

I think he is a deeply, deeply troubled individual, esp where sexuality is concerned. For my money, I lean toward bisexual but with deep-seated internalised homophobia. It’s obvious he loathes and fears his mother but also remains close to her in spite of being a grown man that can and probably should break ties with a woman that feels the need to exorcise him. It also seems he has a Madonna/whore complex  In psychoanalytic literature, a Madonna–whore complex is the inability to maintain sexual arousal within a committed, loving relationship. That seems to have been the case between him and Elizabeth. Taking the Russian woman’s experience into account, he was involving himself with her barely months after the birth of Ford. We don’t know- yet- what he might have been doing with whom after the birth of Harper as well, but it isn’t hard to imagine what he was getting up to bts. He admitted that he had to change after marriage, but sexual inclinations aren’t something someone can just magically delete from their psyche. Where was he getting that itch scratched, and with whom?  I can imagine him hooking up with women like Dominastya in order to get the relief of a scratch, but also as a tool to subconsciously ‘punish’ women. Dominastya said he was fixated on anal, which is most times the case with a closet-case. He’s an enigma to me, tbh. The flirting almost seems like he enjoys the danger of exposing a secret part of himself while defying anyone to actually call him queer since he's been married and fathered children. He was a champion queer-baiter during promo for CMBYN, with his doleful gaze and wistful remembrances of the romance of that Italian summer.

There’s been the rumor for years (that I’ve been harassed over even daring to mention it here by Charmies in the past) that he was involved with Tom Ford (*cough*Ford*cough*). For some in HW, it’s one of those open secrets everyone knows but doesn’t speak about except in whispers and innuendo. So there is at least one man we could put down in his column for bisexuality. Since then, there hasn’t been anyone else I’ve heard about and the Charmie chatter doesn’t count, because that is wishful hoping, not a legit rumor that they were ever anything more than friends. The wink wink nudge nudge of comments from media don’t mean anything other than playing for clicks, because like with the Tom Ford rumor, these outlets have a bottom line to protect.

I think the internalised homophobia works its way out in different ways. I think he takes a perverse pleasure in the gay parts he’s portrayed. More of a middle finger to his family than any true calling or emotion to a character or story. He’s too quick to use comments that reek of homophobia. Today’s comments on Twitter were just the latest in a long line of using queerness as a joke. Remember the odious “cocksucker” comment not too long ago? The “I’ve sucked a dick on film!” hilariousness?  Yeah, what a guy.

Again, rumors don’t equate to truth. He’s been rumored to have fooled around with women from other films, most recently Lily James while filming Rebecca.

tl;dr- All of this to really say, anon, is that I think Armie is a closet-case that no one should hold their breath of ever coming out on purpose. Until he gets caught with someone’s dick up his ass in a back alley in WeHo, it will be status quo for Armie Hammer. There are two sides at war within Armie Hammer, the sexual repression goes hand in hand with a family and upbringing like his. Unless he seeks serious help- professional, not pharmaceutical- I doubt anything will change with him.

cc: @isitandwonder I hope you don’t mind, but I know you have some pretty good insight into his identity as well.

 And anyone else who might have insight into what they believe his psyche to legitimately be like. Open for real and true discussion here. 

[qqueenofhades]

Hi, I'm bi as well and, it's been over a year since I have fully decided to admit it to myself and I have told a few friends but none of my family know. I think some of them would be understanding but a chunk probably... wouldnt. And thats why only a few friends know is I'm worried it would get back to them. Even as a grown woman with a job and degree and everything. So I guess what this rambly mess is leading to is does it ever stop feeling like walking a tight rope?

Hmm. In some sense, I’m lucky that I can, for the most part, control who knows. I’m out on here, to my friends, more or less at my institution (I mean, I keep asking my supervisors to write me recommendations for projects where I’m like QUEER MEDIEVAL HISTORY, so yeah, it’s not a secret on that front) and to my parents and sister(s), all of whom are very good about not telling anyone or gossiping beyond that. I am going to have to relocate to a small town in the Pacific Northwest for a year (moving in with my dad, because logistics and other things) and my first concern about it was the fact that I am a gay left-wing academic, I wear rainbow wristbands all the time, I am not that good at pretending to be straight, and that does not sound like my kind of place. My dad, bless his heart, earnestly rushed to assure me that it was a liberal college town and that “I’ve seen gay people downtown!” So yes.

I am also a grown woman with (some sort of) job and (several) degrees and a professional career, so I get you on that front, and wondering if there’s some way you’re supposed to be better at this, or worrying about if you’re handling it in the right way. As noted, I’m lucky to be in a situation where my personal safety and relationships with my family aren’t tied to having to be in the closet. I had to rely on my parents pretty heavily for financial support in the last year or so of my PhD, and if I had to either not tell them about me being queer (which would have been easy, we live a long way apart) or tell them and risk being cut off, I would absolutely have kept my mouth shut. The thing about Pride is that while it’s great to be out, the fact is, a lot of people can’t do it because it would negatively impact their lives. (This is why homophobia is gross and why forced outing of someone is also super gross.) That’s why it’s Pride; i.e. it’s an active choice and not without repercussions, and something that someone has to personally do. You can have no less Pride even if you’re not out (and this performativity culture and the gatekeeping/exclusionism in certain LGBT circles is also really gross, but this is just getting into a lot of rants, so….anyway). Nobody should be obligated to put performative/visible queerness over their personal safety, no matter how much they would like to be openly true to themselves, so if it’s not okay for you to be out or you don’t feel comfortable being honest with everyone in your life, that’s fine. Until we get rid of homophobia (and that’s a long way off), that’s a choice everyone has to make and can only be personally made.

As noted, I am only out to my immediate family, and my cousins/aunts/extended family don’t know. (My cousins are like... the Most Heteronormative and all married and having tons of babies and Do Not Want). Neither do my absolutely beloved godparents, who are deeply religious (Greek Orthodox) and very involved in the life of their church. They are wonderfully loving  and open and funny people, they have known me my whole life, they’ve been there for me in some bad places, and so on, but I haven’t told them, just because of that kernel of fear that they wouldn’t get it or they wouldn’t entirely be accepting or that our relationship would somehow change. We again don’t see each other much, but it’s something that I have thought of.

Anyway. I feel as if this is equally rambling an answer, but it’s mostly to say that we all have to feel out our own situations and decide what’s best for us when it happens, and there’s no “right” way to be in or out of the closet. It’s a complicated and dangerous world, it’s (to say the least) not always friendly to LGBTQ people, and we have to live with that somehow.

[monikki]

Personal Vision and Goals for the Future

Where do you see yourself ten years from now? What would you be doing?

• Hmm I see myself as a succesful pastry chef because since I was a child, that's really my dream :). Maybe what I'll do when the right time comes I'm already building my own bake shop and I am happy with my family.

What have you achieved personally and professionally?

• I don’t think I have been proven that I have achieved anything in my life because I don’t have confidence in myself. but I think what I have achieved personally is that every day that passes I'm improving as myself Every mistake I make I learn lessons so I grown, I knew in myself that I had grown.

• What i achieved professionally? For me when I made the rush cake for my aunt who will get married the next day. That was the first time i baked a cake and I was surprised with the result, it was delicious. It's not that perfect but I'm proud of what I've done :)

What would you do to make these dreams and aspirations happen?

• What would I do? as i said in my preface part i am a woman full of dreams in life and I want to fulfill that someday, just like the song I put above no matter what others say nothing can stop me because it's free to dream you won't lose anything when you dream. When you have a dream you will really work hard in life especially if you like what you do. It’s also fun to have inspiration and motivation on a daily basis. so that's how I can fulfill all my dreams in life when I work hard for it because there is a saying "kapag may tiyaga, may nilaga" This means that when we work hard at something it bears good thing. All the hard work you put in for your dreams will be worth it when the right time comes. So that's all I can say about what I will do to reach my dreams.

[robron-til-the-end-of-time]

I 100% agree with you I don't trust Iain at all or anything he promises. I honestly am feeling numb and hollow about the 2nd wedding I have no excitement for it instead I'm like why would I want them to get married they're a mess. For me the magic has changed I do feel differently about them. The first wedding was so rushed they have no excuse they should've waited Iain is just waving a shiny toy in front of fans to keep them onside the fans are so divided it's just gonna get worse

At the time, it did strike me (and a lot of others) that a second wedding promise was a “calming down” measure towards fans. I do not get upset about anything Iain says any more. It is pointless because you don’t know either a) if he’s lying, or b) his version of events is what they actually show on screen. Yes, obviously he has to keep certain things quiet as that’s a main part of his job and I’m not criticizing that, but he has absolutely used the fandom side of things. And I think he expected us to all be here no matter what he did.

I don’t think the magic has gone. Yes, it’s in a bad place right now, but my worst Robron days (at present) were when Aaron was being lied to. That just drove me insane, because cheating one night is a mistake. Robert lying to him over weeks is an active choice Robert keeps making, and THAT is what drove me up the wall. Aaron and Robert started as an affair, for them both. Aaron knows what sex is like when it’s just scratching the itch, and I always thought Aaron could forgive him for one occasion. Aaron’s not innocent, we know on screen that he’s had one night stands, he knows sex isn’t just about desire and want. But it was the lying that drove me mad.

I actually think sleeping with Rebecca was in character for Robert (ignoring the consent issue here for the time being because ED clearly are). I’m thinking about his character way before Ryan played him, but Robert has always had an interesting relationship with sex. He has always used that to try and make himself feel better and he always lashes out when he’s hurting and or out of control. So while I was furious and hurt at the direction it took, I could understand it.

What I found completely out of character for the incident was Rebecca. I do not believe any woman would say “I’m never going there again” then five minutes later taking her knickers off for him. I don’t believe how many contradictions they’ve stuck into her character and backstory to attempt to get her to work as a character (and by and large it’s still failing). I feel her character has been sacrificed the most in this.

Another thing I can’t believe, Rebecca would have been on birth control. She’s a grown woman, rich, in her thirties engaging in casual sex, she would have been protected. And even if she wasn’t, I can’t wrap my head around Robert having unprotected sex with her either. We know how much of a complete control freak he is, and how Robert starts breaking down when things spin out of his grasp. It’s canon. When he can’t manipulate the situation he loses rationality, and everything leading up to “the incident” had Robert losing control of everything in his life. And he’d take a risk like that? To be out of his control like that? I don’t believe it. Too much in this story is about suspending your belief, and it makes the story feel a little unreal.

And that’s before you even wonder about due dates, DNA testing, no medical professionals, consent and everything else that’s vaguely questionable here.

[ah17hh]

My girlfriend wants to be poly, pretty sure I'm mono via /r/polyamory

My girlfriend wants to be poly, pretty sure I'm mono

My girlfriend recently told me that she wants to be poly. She had dropped hints at her interest within the previous months, but I took it as a surface curiosity.

A little bit of backstory, I've known her since highschool. We grew up as friends who would occasionally hookup. Following that we dated for 2 years in our final year and the year after. We broke up as she was having issues with depression/bipolar, which I always tried to be supportive of, but it was clear I was out of my depth on how to bring her out of it. She broke things off, I was distraught, but in the following couple years I realised she did what needed to be done at the time.

At this point she was still around, we tried kind of as friends, I was constantly jealous. She dated another guy that I had actually met while we were dating, he was part of her college clique. They dated for a few months, I was happy when they broke up as I thought maybe I could try again. Her 21st birthday party rolled up, I was invited and planned her gift. I wrote a long feelingful card, got a silver bracelet engraved with a nickname I had for her. All things went well, her mother made a joke about her marrying me, I was hopeful.

Later than evening, the guy she had recently dated showed up to the party, she was excited to see him. I went it to emotional trauma mode, i spent the whole party getting wasted and tracking their movements. Who knows why, to this day i have no idea what my thoughts were, but it is the highest emotional state I've ever experienced. They spent the night together.

She went to work on the yatches, and lived with her Dad abroad. She got herself out of her depressive state, and grew into an amazing person. This was over a 4 year span, we kept in contact a bit, when she came back to visit the one year we hooked up, but we both knew it was temporary. Within the last year of her being abroad, we started texting daily, just like old times. When she came back permanently, I invited her to a work function as my date. Within the week after that function we started hooking up and started dating again. Things have been amazing, she's really found herself and grown to be an amazing woman who I love and respect more than anyone. We are now living together 1.5 years into our re-date.

TL:DR basically I've known her and we've been on/off for the past 11 years. She's had multiple partners in her experiences, whereas I have only ever dated and slept with her.

Before everyone says this is unhealthy on my part, this is not for a lack of trying, I've been on dates, had sexual interactions, but never had any form of feelings like I have had for her, no relationship fire or what this /r likes to call NRE. I still feel a rush when we do new things together, build it lives together, get intimate together.

When she told me she wanted to be poly, my initial reaction was why am I not enough? Thanks to this reddit and 24 hours of emotional obsessive reading, I realised that wasn't necessarily the case.

When I came back from research and gathered my thoughts, I asked her to explain what she meant, what her rules were. She explained that she had what she felt were like 3 personalities. 1 chilled/friendly, 1 organised and together, and 1 dark. Long story short, she wanted BDSM, but she didn't want to really show me that side of her, saying "she would be happy with a professional Dom 1-2 times a year". I said I want to know all sides of you, and suggested we try with me being her dom. This has gone really well and we have had amazing sex almost daily for two weeks. We have gotten to enjoy all sorts of kinks, and I was hoping these were the kind of new experiences that were enough.

She had been chatting with a guy online who she games with for the past few months. She has asked me before if I am ok with how much she chats to him, and if I ever feel like it makes me uncomfortable I must just say and she will stop. I assured her that I was ok with her having guy friends who she can have good conversations with.

Fast forward to last night, she told me she has emotional and sexual feelings for this guy, and what I thought about it. I initially said a little bit of flirting and emotional connection isn't a huge problem for me, but then later changed my mind and told her it did bother me, as it was the only thing occupying my mind for hours. I explained to her that I'm ok with making good friends, and occasionally flirting in an adult humor kind of way, but I drew the line at stuff like sexting and sending nudes. She assured me she hasn't done anything like that, but they have mutually discussed their attraction and feelings, which again I said was ok, but followed up with furthering the poly convo.

I told her me, as a person, after the countless stories and experiences I've read, assimilated into, and meditated on, cannot fathom the idea of her being alone and initimate with another guy, I can, however, get my head around trying to involve other people with both of us, as long as it's a purely sexual interaction. She seemed a little dis-satisfied, and asked what if she couldn't agree to that. I said then we would have to break up.

TL:DR2 I feel like I keep adding compromise, and trying to accommodate her needs, but I'm battling up hill. I come to this Reddit for answers as I know no one with this kind of experience. I love her deeply and feel like I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. I realise based on what I've read, the stats for a mid relationship poly declaration aren't great.

Submitted August 01, 2020 at 10:46AM by RandomDude_64 via reddit https://ift.tt/3i3z0MF

[pseudowho]

icymi 👔 💕

18+, touch-starved, 'waiting' gentleman Nanami Kento, male masturbation over the clothes

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"But...does this count?" you whispered against Nanami Kento's neck, your hand trailing down to the curved tenting at the front of his tan trousers. He jolted, grunting, involuntarily bucking against your palm.

He was a gentleman; one who waited; one who longed. Certainly not one to turn his back on due diligence, and favouring flowers over fondling. Any girlfriend whom he intended to become his wife, would only be taken by him after a societally appropriate time.

But how long would this be? With you, a day felt like a month; a month, years. With how you smiled against his throat, he knew, from every twitch of his touch-starved body, that even a gentleman may meet his resolve's end sooner than planned.

"It...it counts," Kento choked, his body betraying him to roll his hips and the straining underside of his cock up against your palm. "I...I shouldn't. You deserve-- deserve--"

"...deserve to know the face of your pleasure, before you come inside me?" Kento froze, paralysed by the honesty, the filth of your words. He felt his cock twitch beneath your palm when you spoke again, lower this time. "Yes. Yes, I do. So..."

"I-- I don't-- haaaah," Kento cried, hoarse and breathy, for a twitch almost as bone-deep as one when he spilled himself, shivered through his length. He felt the dribble of pre-cum soak through his trousers; he saw it, too, the sticky fluid staining the pale material to beige. You felt it, too; you saw it, too. Kento knew he was a goner, when you bit your lip beneath dilating pupils.

You cupped your hand around the length of his cock, moulding his boxers and trousers to his shape, and slowly, rhythmically, beginning to jack him off through his clothes. Kento humped up desperately, dishevelled and panting, and touch-starved, so touch-starved--

"Feels good?" you whispered, suckling his throat to leave rose petals on his skin. Kento only groaned; husky, shuddering, coming undone embarrassingly quickly. Touch without touch was so illicit, so debauched, for one so corseted as he.

"Feels...feels...like I'm going to come in my boxers like a boy--" Kento growled, tangling his fingers through your hair to keep your lips on his throat.

"Would that be so bad?" you murmured against his pulse point, your tongue dipping out to taste the desperation off his skin. Your hand sped up, gliding around the length of him.

Your eyes closed to imagine it was his bare cock in your hand, instead. Your eyes closed, to imagine how the shape of him would fit every plush facet of your insides. You shivered; Kento moaned. You felt him hardening even further; felt the ghost of veins, standing proud, winding around his cock like desire paths.

The gentleman was gone, now; the needy remained.

"Don't stop," panted Kento, fucking up into your palm with every smooth masturbatory motion that your hand made around him, "--just--just like that-- don't stop-- I...I'll..."

Trailing your lips from his jaw to his mouth, you pressed a chaste little peck to his lips; but it was when your tongue swiped over his lower lip, that he met his undoing.

Your hand pumped only two more fabric-frictioned long pumps...before Kento held his breath. His jaw dropped in a silent gasp. His hand tightened in your hair, the other pressing dimples into the divot of your waist. And you felt him spill.

Kento moaned with every twitch of his cock, leaping and spurting beneath tan confines. You watched, fascinated, to see him come apart with each bucking spill, each deepening stain that spread beneath his clothes. His face, twisted in divine agony, would be seated into your mind until he took you, pinned and begging his name, for the first time.

"--f-fuck...o-ooohhh f-fuck...p-pathetic...so pathetic--"

"--hot, actually--"

A rough, gravelly cough; a mirthless laugh, with his final weak spatters of cum.

"...you...will be the end of me...I swear on my life..."

Kento opened one slim, brown eye, regarding your gleeful lip-biting with a huff. He had almost pulled himself together...until you dipped down to the cum-stain on his crotch, and fixed your mouth around it, sucking through the saturated fabric and dipping out your tongue to taste him.

Kento whimpered, bucking weakly against your lips, for you had broken him once, and twice, and now thrice, and he wondered how he would ever survive--

"...taste amazing, Kento."

Four times. Kento flipped you beneath him, pinning you to the sofa with sadistic satisfaction at the look of shock on your face.

He blew upwards, wisping commas of blond off his sweaty forehead. He curled one long finger into his tie, loosening it with one violent tug.

"I've had enough of you, madam. If you won't treat me like a gentleman, then I shan't be."