#WE’RE SO BACK BAYBEE

[a-second-chance-su-au]

Hey, i am new here, and i have seen the episodes list, so Bubble Buddies is the first official episode of this AU? I am pretty sure that there were more episodes that happened before Bubble Buddies🤨, while sure i don’t this Spinel would’ve made much difference within the episodes themselves🤔, but i do think that she would’ve at least have her moments within those episodes and honestly adding a extra Gem in the mix at all i think would make some difference in the character dynamic in general.

Oh yeah, all those episodes still happened! If I take out an episode from the timeline, I’ll let you know! But so far, the only one actively gone is the Uncle Grandpa episode, which has been replaced with my own non-canon ep where I get to just have fun. But every other episode is still there! I’ll write up a timeline or show in the comic somehow when events are taking place.

Gem Glow, Laser Light Canon, all those episodes up to Bubble Buddies still occurred in the timeline. I’m just not drawing all of them because 1) that would drag on, 2) this AU is focused on Spinel, 3) I just don’t want to draw extra scenes that have no real relevance to this particular story? 4) SU is a show that already exists.

If I feel like it, maybe I’ll doodle some Spinels in those episodes or something, but because she doesn’t affect enough, I’m not giving those episodes their own comic. Just go rewatch the show and imagine Spinel there, along with stuff she’d say. She and Amethyst snark a lot lol.

Great question!

[amywritesthings]

Meet Me On the Other Side

PART ONE: THE PLAN

gif credit to @ joseph-quinns

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary: The Hawkins crew only has eight people in their three-tier plan to take down Vecna. Eddie makes a Hail Mary of a phone call to even the odds.

Warnings: SPOILERS AHEAD, VOL2 FIX-IT, Language, Angst (with a Happy Ending), Unresolved Tension, Yearning, Peril, Violence, The Upside Down, Desperate-To-Kiss!Eddie, we’re writing this entire storyline baybee let’s go

A/N: Are you hurting just as much as I am after Vol2? Cool, well that didn’t happen. This is the new canon. Within the ‘Freak & Valedictorian’ series. Separate Ways (Remix) intensifies.

                     PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE

( Read on AO3 )

PREVIEW:

“Eddie?” Click.

And just like that, Eddie Munson is gone.

(You refuse to let that be the final say in this conversation.)

Leaving behind your homework and study for a pair of keys and sneakers, you burst from your dorm room and run down the hallway to the stairs, to the student parking lot, and beeline to your car.

Hawkins is a two hour drive.

If you double the speed limit down the interstate highway, then you can make it in half the time.

MEET ME ON THE OTHER SIDE

PART ONE: THE PLAN

“There’s only eight of us here.”

Robin paces back and forth in the small living room of Max Mayfield's trailer. Wildly her hands gesture at the surrounding bodies of kids, teenagers, and young adults offering to do the impossible.

From the doomed silence that follows her observation, the tension is palpable. 

Eddie rolls a metal skull ring aimlessly around his index finger, deep in thought. Not about Vecna. Fuck Vecna. Fuck everything he’s done to this town, to Chrissy, to Fred, to Max. 

Lastly, fuck everything he's done to him. How much his uncle’s life has been flipped upside-down on the account that Hawkins thinks he’s a satanic murderer. How much he’s slandered Chrissy’s reputation just because she died in his house.

He shouldn’t be thinking about the impulse of calling anyone, much less you.

You don’t deserve to get caught up in his tornado of bullshit, not when you’re busy with your own life two hours away. Thriving in a state college, enjoying friends, being seen. He promised those first few trips at the beginning of your freshman year, happy to still be a part of your life even when it feels hopeless.

The Freak doesn't win the Valedictorian in the end, not in a world where he's repeating his senior year for the third time in a row and — oh right, potential murder charges loom in the horizon.

(Yet two hours in that damn caravan were next to nothing when he saw you beaming from the other end of the parking lot like he held the fucking sun, ready to run.)

He wishes he could run right now.

Run north and never look back, leaving this insanity behind with the town that hates him — except he knows he can’t.

Chrissy Cunningham believed she could trust him. That he was safe, somehow, in this grand scheme of satanic panic.

She believed.

If he’s running anywhere, then it’s to the phone so he can say his proper goodbyes in case all of this goes south — he’s not naive enough to think it won’t.

“I gotta take a piss,” he mumbles out of left field, standing from the sunken middle cushion of the couch. Steve gives him a look — god, can Harrington stop figuring people out before they say anything? — while Dustin shifts from his space on the wall.

All scared.

Everyone’s so fucking scared and Eddie Munson hates that he thinks he’s the most petrified out of them all.

“Right now?” Erica snaps, crossing her arms over her chest.

“What, a man can’t piss in this dire time of need?” Eddie replies with a flippant tone, forced but manageable. Erica rolls her eyes, waving him off.

Access granted from Lady Applejack herself.

Hastily he moves into the hallway, waiting a minute while the team curls closer to the coffee table in the middle of the room with the map of Hawkins in question. Another beat passes.

Instead of touching the bathroom door, his hand grabs the beige wall phone before furiously typing the number he knows by memory.

First ring. Silence.

Second ring. Silence.

Third ri—

The other side picks up.

He drops the unruly curls of his crown against the plywood wall. “Oh, thank fuck.”

“Eddie?”

He clutches both hands against the phone, angling himself away from the company in the living room to focus solely on the way you say his voice.

Melodic, like a hazy, eye-of-the-storm dream in-between a slew of nightmares.

“Hey, yeah, it’s me,” he responds as his eyes flutter closed. “Hey. Holy fuck, I missed your voice.”

“You sound strange,” you murmur on the other end, and he swallows thickly. “Is everything okay?” 

. . . . . . .

You remember how terrified he sounded on the phone.

“Things got really fucked up here,” he croaks on the other line, causing you to leap out of your dorm bed with the phone line following.

“How fucked up, Ed?” you ask with a purposeful yank on the mustard-colored jacket hanging up on your wall.

“I don’t even know how to explain it to you without sounding like I’m losing my mind.”

“Try me,” you challenge.

He sighs on the other end, shifting the phone. “Has it been on the news?”

“Has what been on the news?”

“The whole… fuck, the whole Satanic cult shit with Hellfire?”

You pause, standing still in an empty room. “Hellfire? Something happened with Hellfire Club?”

“Chrissy Cunningham’s dead, kiddo,” Eddie supplies. His vocals strain against the syllables of her last name. “I saw it happen, but it wasn’t me. I swear, it wasn’t — Nancy Wheeler saw Fred Benson die, too, and things keeps happening—”

“Hold on.” Your stomach bottoms out as you interrupt in a cautious, small blurt. “You saw it happen?”

Eddie sighs, distorting the other end of the phone line. “I don't really have much time to explain, but yeah. I saw it happen. Something took her, alright? Something demonic, a Vecna’s curse-type shit, and I needed to call you because we’re going after it. I know this sounds insane, because I didn’t want to believe it, but when you’re kinda wanted for murder you don’t really have a choice—”

“You said ‘we’,” you interrupt again, swallowing the lump in your throat. “When you say ‘we’, do you mean the Hellfire Club is—”

“No. Fuck, I mean, kind of? Henderson and Sinclair and his sister are in the living room. And — get this, you’ll have a laugh — your old pal Steve Harrington’s sitting pretty on the couch.“

“Steve?”

Someone you once trusted. Someone you knew, before you high-tailed it out of town for school. From what you remember, he stayed behind to work the local stores after graduation. Not many people ever leave.

(Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson being friendly was never on your Hawkins Bingo card.)

“Yeah. For all the shit I used to give ‘em, he’s one tough son of a bitch. But listen, I gotta go. I just…” Eddie draws in a slow inhale from his nose, exhaling through his mouth. “...I needed to hear your voice again just in case this goes south. Sucks I can’t see you, but this is better than nothing. Thanks for indulging me.”

“Eddie?”

Click.

And just like that, Eddie Munson is gone.

(You refuse to let that be the final say in this conversation.)

Leaving behind your homework and study for a pair of keys and sneakers, you burst from your dorm room and run down the hallway to the stairs, to the student parking lot, and beeline to your car.

Hawkins is a two hour drive.

If you double the speed limit down the interstate highway, then you can make it in half the time.

Nerve endings set ablaze as your mind repeats the bizarre phone conversation like a broken record — demonic happenings killing students, Hellfire Club framed, seeing someone die in a gruesome fashion — but nothing adds up. How the hell did Steve Harrington get involved in all of this? Was Nancy Wheeler a part of the plan, too? Was this a bad trip with Gareth, or was seriously something wrong back home?

Nearly cutting off half a dozen cars to get to the Hawkins exit, it takes flooring two red lights to get to the trailer park where Eddie Munson and his uncle live.

You immediately notice two familiar cars: Steve’s, just on the roadway leading to the park, and Nancy’s, right outside of Max Mayfield's trailer.

The sound of a car screeching to a halt in the grass causes the front door to fly wide open, where two kids peer out with wide eyes.

You vaguely know of Dustin Henderson and Lucas Sinclair from how eager Eddie is to talk about his new Hellfire recruits. The descriptions match, with Lucas’ wide-eye stare and Dustin’s growing, excited smile.

“Eddie!” he screams, stomping his foot several times into the floor. "You gotta get out here, dude!"

The outburst summons several more faces in various states of confusion and height: Max Mayfield, the step-sister of the late Billy Hargrove, shoves Dustin out of the way to get a peek. Robin Buckley, Steve’s Scoops Ahoy co-worker, is the next to stand a foot above the rest.

Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington follow suit, both littered with dirt and blood and equally surprised expressions.

You slam the car door shut, exiting the driver’s side door to stare back without any real explanation in mind.

The last to arrive is Eddie, who comically pushes Steve by the shoulder in order to stand on his landing in perfect view of the newcomer in question. Eddie looks like he’s been through hell and back: his Hellfire Club staple raglan shirt is dirtied, hair matted, with dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in weeks.

Until he sees you, really sees you, and a lifetime of sorrow is lifted from his expression.

He bolts.

Skipping all three stairs to the dirt, he falters in landing but propels straight forward like a linebacker towards you. You take two steps to meet him, but Eddie Munson scoops you high into his arms in a twirl, holding you like he’s afraid you'll disappear like a ghost.

“Holy shit,” he murmurs into your shoulder, his palm cradling the back of your head. “Holy shit, holy shit, please tell me you didn’t—”

“Drive?” you ask breathlessly. “Two hours to get here? More like one. I may be wanted for speeding in two states.”

“Are you insane?” he replies, voice cracking. He sets you down to give you a once-over of disbelief. You hold his face palms on either side to steady the manic shock. “You’re not supposed to be here. It isn’t safe here.”

“You said you were in trouble.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean you end up in trouble right along with me.”

You shake your head, leaning your cheek into his palm as he moves to cradle your face close. Forehead to forehead, it feels like it’s the first time he’s taken a breath, a real breath, in maybe days. It’s scary to think so much has happened in your absence.

“You made me an honorary Hellfire Club member, remember?” you remind under your breath, a murmur, to keep it between the two of you. “You don’t get to do whatever this is alone.”

“You have no clue what you’re signing up for,” he warns, closing his eyes at the scent of your perfume. “Please, go home.”

“Munson!”

The sound of Steve Harrington’s voice carries as he drops down the front stairs of the trailer, walking barefoot and worse for wear in the grass. Around his middle is makeshift dressing, broad chest shirtless and speckled with hair.

He’s wearing Eddie’s Dio denim vest.

(What the hell happened to all of them?)

“I’m going to ignore whatever it is I just witnessed, alright, and say we should get inside.” Steve’s hair flops as he regards you with a smile, small and warm. “Hey. Long time no see.”

“Right back at you,” you reply breathlessly. “You look like shit.”

“Feel like shit,” he quips in return. “But, hey, I never made shit look so good.”

You laugh with your own tiny smile. “Glad you’re still the same Steve.”

Eddie finally lets go, gesturing to your car. “Harrington, tell her she shouldn’t be here. Maybe she’ll listen to you.”

Steve makes a face, lips pulling downwards. “Nah, I don’t think she’s ever listened to me, man. Not in school, not in life, not ever.”

“And we need the numbers!”

Robin shuffles out of the trailer, her gangly limbs waving a quick hello. Her vocal fry returns as she sheepishly motions to you.

“I mean, we… are one person down on Dustin and Eddie’s distraction team. Nine people, instead of eight. Three teams of three. It works.”

“Robin’s right,” Nancy confirms with her own subdued, honey-lemon tone. Her arms are crossed over her chest, shirt mangled and torn and matching the fabric around Steve’s torso. Nancy holds up a hand with a mouthed ‘hello’ to you. You mirror the softness of the greeting.

“Okay, but what about Eddie?” Eddie says, rubbing the bangs on his forehead. “Does Eddie get a say about how batshit it would be to bring anyone else into this insane asylum mission?”

“Three is better than two,” Nancy apologetically disagrees. “We don’t have El, we’re running low on time, and she’s willing to at least hear us out.”

You nod once, leaving Eddie’s side to decidedly make your way to the trailer despite the sounds of protests he makes by your car. 

“Just fill me in on what’s happening,” you tell them. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The group of seven remaining at the door all turn inward, leaving an air of uncertainty with them.

. . . . . . . .

Vecna’s curse. Clock chimes and nightmares. Demogorgons. Demobats. 

The Upside Down.

End of the world type of shit, according to Max. She wasn’t kidding.

You sit between Erica and Lucas as the adults of the group explain the last few years of what Hawkins has had to offer: how the disappearances of several students of the years, and the death of Billy Hargrove, weren’t mere accidents. 

Everything was connected.

Everything in this town, this never-ending Hawkins curse, finally began making sense.

To your right, Eddie stands in the corner of the Mayfield living room. He’s white as a sheet and grief stricken when Nancy reaches the part where he comes in: how Chrissy Cunningham died on his very ceiling with her limbs mangled and eyeballs carved from their sockets. How the town blamed Eddie and went on a town-wide manhunt in Chrissy’s name against him.

How he hid in a boat house without a means of escape.

Now it makes sense why you hadn’t heard from him in days.

You finally speak up once the room simmers to silence, the tale coming to a close. “So you… managed to get into the Upside Down and get back to Hawkins?”

“Yes,” Nancy responds. “That’s… where we are in the plan right now. The only way this ends is if we go back in and kill him.”

“You mean Vecna?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers for Nancy, running a hand through his floppy hair. “Kind of our only option at this point so we can make sure Max doesn’t… y’know. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” the redhead pipes up from the corner, fiddling with her cassette player at her hip. “He means so I don’t become his fourth victim. Everything’s happening in fours, so… makes sense that I’m still marked.“

“But we’re going to figure out how to kill him,” Lucas reassures with soft sincerity.

Steve pushes his index finger into the map where the red ‘X’ covers a drawing of a house. “Nancy, Robin, and I will be going to the house to kill Vecna. Erica and Lucas will stay with Max to ensure the bait plan stays that way.”

He blinks up at you, chewing the inside of his cheek with contemplation.

“Dustin and Eddie are a distraction in the Upside Down.”

“Which is why she’d be safer with one of you,” Eddie finally pipes up as he chews on his ring fingernail, staring intently at the map from a distance.

“I know I’m taking a crash course in Hawkins 101, here,” you start, rubbing your palms gently against the thighs of your denim jeans, “but I feel better if I went with you and Dustin, Ed.”

“And we have extra weapons!” Robin pipes up with forced excitement. “Well — we will have extra. See? Extra hands all around, it’s a great thing.”

“It’s not.” Morose, Eddie shakes his head.

You watch him for a minute, assessing and reassessing the news, before glancing back at Steve.

“Will… fighting this thing clear Eddie’s name?”

“Maybe?” Steve replies honestly. “That’s the goal. Kill Vecna, set things right. It’ll be… it’ll be a tough sell, but we have to try. Only other option is to let Hawkins cave in on itself.”

Max shifts awkwardly against the wall, fixing her headphones strapped around the back of her neck.

“Then I’m in.”

“Hey—” 

Eddie removes himself from the corner to protest, but you lock eyes and shake your head.

He stops dead in his tracks, shoulders deflating with each passing breath at your determination.

“You need a third.” You glance around the room. “I’m your third.”

. . . . . . . . .

By the time you all return from the weapons and ammo store, the stolen mobile trailer finds its way parked in the outskirts of the park — not quite where it was hot wired, but close enough to feel familiar. 

One by one, everyone files out and into the open field for their preparation stations.

Dustin drags Eddie off to make shields worthy of their campaign before you can ever say a thing. Erica and Lucas do their own thing with spears and leather in hand, while Nancy and Max take a spot to the far east to get to work on the shotgun modifications.

It leaves you with Robin, who already set up a spot at the mobile trailer to make homemade Molotov cocktails.

(Absolutely nothing to worry about.)

You’re in the midst of creating an inventory sheet when a tap on the shoulder surprises you from behind. Steve, still a dirty mess but at least covered by a new long-sleeved shirt and jacket, waggles his eyebrows in your vicinity.

“So… this is weird.”

“What is?” you ask, placing the pencil down on what little surface you had to write.

“Seeing you, of all people, in Hawkins again. You actually managed to get the hell out of here.”

“That was always the plan, Harrington. Wasn’t it yours?”

“Eh,” Steve scoffs, waving a hand. “I got a job at Starcourt… then Starcourt burned down because — well, now you know why — and then I just kinda… stuck around. What’s college like?”

“Peaceful,” you joke, placing your hands on your hips. “When you don’t have a sorority sister as a roommate, it’s very peaceful.”

“So what you’re really saying is: boring. I missed nothing at all. Gotcha.” Steve rocks on the balls of his feet. “Miss Valedictorian of ‘85 herself, in the flesh.”

“Oh, God, stop. Not the Valedictorian thing. It really didn’t make much of a difference, by the way, so studying all the time was for the birds.”

“Uh-huh. Still, I can’t believe you risked a speeding ticket for two hours to get here,” Steve teases, suppressing a smirk. “I didn’t think you knew how to break the law.”

You snort, leaning over to bump your arm with his. “Yeah, well, I don’t have to think to know Eddie would probably do the same for me.”

“Still, it’s ballsy. Where was this version of Vale-’85 when I knew you back in high school?”

“Oh, she was always there, Hair Harrington,” you grin as you watch Dustin follow Eddie’s lead in the field, pounding nails into the back of a metal trash can. “I guess you just do crazy things when you’re—” 

Stop.

You freeze before you can finish the sentence, instead squaring your shoulders and trailing silent. Dustin dive bombs into Eddie with a cackling laugh, leading to Eddie hugging the little freshman into his side with adoration.

“Hey, I get it.”

Steve speaks up beside you, forcing you to turn to your left. He glances at you through his peripheral, giving a one-shoulder shrug. 

“Trust me, I get it way more than you think.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We don’t have to talk about it.”

He swallows a lump in his throat, shifting in his stance to briefly look to his right. Belated you follow where it lands on Max Mayfield and Nancy Wheeler hovering over a crate, sawing off the barrels of shotguns.

I get it.

Maybe he does.

For a while, it’s like this: silent while the rest of the crew prepares their weapons, talking and bantering amongst themselves. Dustin and Eddie play their own version of in-person Dungeons & Dragons in the field, laughing to the sky. 

If he hadn’t looked so petrified just a few short hours ago, then maybe you’d forget why you were even here.

(Why any of you are here, in this field, preparing for war you've only learned about hours ago.)

You lean closer to Steve, debating on your next question. “Are the odds good, Harrington?”

Jaw clenched, he rips his eyes from the two girls modifying weapons to look down at you. You press on. 

“I mean it honestly: is fighting this Vecna person a pipe dream, or do you guys really believe this is possible?”

Steve waits, kicking a pebble of dirt with his newly-bought boot. “We’re kind of all Hawkins has left. And if I can do something about it? Then I won’t let this son of a bitch take anyone else.”

Your heart skips a beat when Eddie turns from his embrace with Dustin to search — until his eyes land on you. His shoulders drop in relief as his smile remains.

It’s Steve’s turn, now, to lean over in a murmur into your ear so the rest can’t hear.

“I know this isn’t my place, because I was today year’s old when I found out you had a thing for Munson — which, if we come out of this fight in one piece, then we’re gonna talk about that, but… I think if you were going to have any sort of talk? Now might be a good time to do it.”

“Calm before the storm?” you add, returning the smile in Eddie’s direction despite the heaviness of the conversation at the present.

“Something like that.” Steve nudges you with his elbow. “I’ll keep watch on Dustin-o. You just do what you gotta do.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Got any speeches you wanna workshop before you dive head-first into some Upside Down hellscape?”

Steve snorts, waving you off. “Oh, way ahead of you. But we’ll get there when we get there. For now? You first.”

You first.

Yeah, there’s a lot here with not enough time to say it.

Once Eddie squints towards you, you jut your chin up and to the left where there are woods. Woods that you’ve frequented with him before in late-night meetings. Trees that have seen things, heard promises — what’s one more?

Eddie pauses, makeshift shield in hand, and tilts his head in response. You jut your chin twice to the left — woods, Munson — before he gets it: lightbulb turned on, he shuffles his shield to Dustin Henderson with a hasty goodbye.

Dustin raises his arms and drops them with disappointment, but you don’t get to see how the conversation plays out when you disappear into the wooded area.

Waiting.

“Harrington bothering you, angel?”

Angel. The nickname could melt your heart.

When you turn, Eddie Munson appears around a tree. Meeting you in the small circle of trees far enough to keep this conversation private, he still looks like the skittish little boy you met the first week of school all those years ago. 

His hands are lodged into the back pockets of his denim jeans, eyes curious yet apprehensive. He still has spots of dirt all over his clothes — not nearly as bad as Harrington, yet enough to make you worry.

All this time.

All this time and you didn’t know he’d been in this much trouble.

“You two were talking an awful long time over there,” he adds, tilting his head with an unspoken question: wanna talk about it?

You shake your head. “Just old friends catching up. You… sort of surprised him with the whole PDA-thing outside your house.”

“Well you surprised me. I didn’t really have time to, uh, plot a course of suave action.” Eddie’s smile drops as he takes another step to minimize the distance between you. “You can leave, you know.”

“Ed—”

“Let me fin-ish,” he warns in a sing-song tone. “No one is going to fault you for hearing about a psychotic, telepathic Freddie-demon and wanting to go right back to college. I’d feel better, actually, if you did. Run, I mean. I’ll drive you back to your car right now.”

“There’s no way I’m going back now that I know that there are literally demon bats.”

“Seriously? That’s the first reason I would be high-tailing the hell out of here.”

“You’ve seen one?”

“Chyeah, I’ve seen one. Absolutely… fucking terrifying,” Eddie admits with a breathless laugh. “You got out of Hawkins, sweetheart. Like properly, actually, got to leave and—”

“My home’s still here, Eddie.”

There is a heaviness to your double-meaning confession that takes Eddie a second to recognize, but when he does?

His puppy eyes round in disbelief, taking one small step at a time towards you. Your nose scrunches to avoid the passing emotions from overwhelming you. 

“If I had known about anyone calling you a murderer? Eddie, I would have ran home sooner.”

“I didn’t have any way to call—”

“And you’re fucking insane if you think I’m going to abandon you while you’re… gearing up like you’re Rambo to kill these things—”

“Wait.”

“—and there is so much I’ve wanted to tell you since I met you and the fact that I see Nancy Wheeler sawing off the barrel of a shotgun with my own two eyes makes me feel like I really need to set a few things straight, and I need to tell you—”

Eddie crosses towards you in three great strides, before pulling your head in with both hands. He presses a searing, desperate kiss to your lips, effectively dissolving your panic.

Clawing your hands into his hair, you pull him impossibly close. The force of him pushing into you knocks you back, barreling the both of you straight against a tree. Eddie pins you there, teeth grazing your lower lip with a sense of urgency.

“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he breathes against your mouth, left hand dropping to wrap around the base of your neck before diving back in to kiss you.

You rake your nails against his scalp, earning a whimper along your lips. “Wasn’t leaving you.”

“You need to.”

“Eddie, let me say this—”

“No.”

He lets go of your face and neck to place both hands on your shoulders, pinning you to the trunk of the tree. His matted, curly bangs fall forward until his headache presses to yours. Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut in his plea.

“Please don’t say something like we’re at the end of a… terrible fucking action movie where this is a goodbye. This isn't Rambo. I can’t let it be a goodbye, and I won’t run, but I refuse to let this be it.”

His eyes finally open, observing yours. Memorizing yours.

“Look, I’m not a hero. I’m never the hero, okay? I run, I always do—”

“—you’ve never run from me.”

Your interruption falters his shame, allowing the silence to envelop the forest surrounding you.

“Even when we were placed in different classes. Even when things were weird at Snowball. Even when I told you I was leaving Hawkins. Do you know the first thing you said to me when I told you I wasn’t staying in town?” 

You allow a pause, but Eddie doesn’t dare speak.

“You said you’d run to me. You’d follow me up to state college. And you did. No one visits me like you do. No one makes the effort like you do. And we could say fuck Hawkins, but what are you doing instead? Fighting for them?”

His fingertips tremble against your shoulders.

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” he mumbles, regretting every word.

“People who run don’t care about the right thing to do, Eddie. Never did. You always try to be polite, to be kind, even when people are kind in return.” You brush wayward strands of hair from his face. “That is brave. That is heroic.”

And for what feels like hours, Eddie stands there, eyes downcast. Processing what you said, what you believe, when so many refuse to see beyond the unruly hair, chains, and metal skulls.

He never feels worthy.

You hate that he never feels worthy.

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath, holding it for a beat, before exhaling his resolve.

“Promise me that when we get back, princess, that you’ll let me tell you everything I’ve ever wanted to say to your face. I need to earn my little bat slayer wings, earn you, and if you confess shit here and now? I may not go.”

He drops a small kiss to your forehead, dragging you in for a tight embrace. You reciprocate, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

He doesn’t need to earn you. He needs to know he’s never needed to earn you.

“But I’m not holding back, alright?” he murmurs into your hair. “We do the plan, I shred, we get the hell out of there, and I just… Fuck, I’ll tell you whatever you want, just not before we go back up there. Deal?”

You want to protest, but he presses his lips back to yours. Gentle this time, like he’s found his footing back on solid ground. You want to tell get everything off your chest before the final clock bell chimes, but it’s his only request.

(Let me earn you.)

After this is over, he’ll learn it was always the opposite way around.

You nod into the kiss, pulling away to reply.

“Deal.”

[thisgaybinch]

.

[monstersinthecosmos]

Anne Rice's books are filled with morally dubious concepts and toxic relationships, I thought everyone that is fan would be so because of that. But scrolling through the tag I find people claiming to be fans but only of the wholesome parts, which are almost nothing?? Anne Rice is not wholesome in the slightest. I don't know, it feels lonely. And also I see the TV show isn't willing to engage with the horror and complexity of these books neither, which, makes me see the vampire chronicles isn't really meant to be brought to this medium. I don't know why I am dumping this on you but I feel like you would understand somehow. Please ignore if not, I don't want to offend you.

Lmao I’m not offended, hello! I am, however, about to talk way too much bc I haven't changed in the years since I've haunted tunglr dot com so I apologize for that

TLDR: Be a freak, don't let anyone make you feel bad, I hope the show isn't too wholesome.

I’ve been in and out of this fandom for like, literally twenty years 👵🏻 so being completely honest I have always seen a wide range of fans on the spectrum of HAPPILY ENJOYING IN BLISS to ONLY INTERESTED IN CRITICISM and like that’s such a personal, subjective choice of whatever everyone finds fun in their free time. I’ve also, in twenty years, been on both ends of the spectrum, and I even fully swore AR off for a few years at one point bc I was so mad at her lol, but IM BACK BAYBEE and to me idk it’s not fun to take things so seriously all the time. That’s just me though!

I do think there’s been a huge shift in fandom culture (particularly on Tumblr) in the last 10 years or so that prioritizes moral critiques of canon; it’s not just VC, I see this in a lot of fandoms, and I think it’s been more amplified since the Adult Content Ban bc, surprise!, a lot of adults left the site lol. I think we’re living in a culture right now that’s very focused on respectability politics and there’s obviously a huge push in the mainstream to censor and control transgressive media (especially queer fiction), and it doesn’t surprise me that this has influenced younger fans because it’s a culture we are steeped in at all times, even when they try to identify as progressive. But don’t think that the broader wave of censorship right now isn’t connected to the way conservatives are beginning to skew the conversations in fandom spaces, too. Fandom is a microcosm of what’s happening outside! And there are all types of ideas and stigmas that we get inundated with in the world, without our consent, because it’s the space we all occupy. 

Having said all that LOL. All these types of fans exist and sometimes you have to just read the room and find your people. Some people’s enjoyment of the books is conditional, ie: cherrypicking what we liked about them and celebrating just those parts. Especially because I think so many of us read the books young and didn’t think too hard about it; we can agree that Anne’s writing was seductive and we were all probably baby queer weirdos who felt seen or w/e. And I think it’s normal that a lot of us have grown up and looked back at some of the stuff in the books like “oh yikes lol”

But everyone has different ways to navigate those feelings. I personally don’t have a problem compartmentalizing and just enjoying myself. I don’t take fiction morals very seriously and I enjoy the thought exercise of putting myself in imaginary dark places. Not everyone can flip that on and off and separate fiction from reality so easily, so ur milage may vary. I’m also someone who supports the idea of using fiction as a staging area for sexuality, and using fiction imo is a great way to play. Not everybody feels that way and for some people, the fun of playing in fandom is to play with the canon in a transformative way to see how to “fix” it or to rearrange it in a way that is less nauseating. I think there’s a culture in spaces like Tumblr to feel you need to repent for your fiction sins, and not everyone can sit with the guilt of accidentally enjoying amorality in fiction. And like I’m sure there are fans who read IWTV at 13 and Loustat is just so deeply embedded in them that they simply cannot exit the train at this point, and they're doing what they can with the scraps to ease that discomfort.

And I mean, good for them, if it helps them enjoy their time on this fucking germy ass planet!!!!!! That’s very fun, happy 4 u guys lol. 

There is also 1000000% Nothing Wrong with blissfully enjoying all the evil and trash. It is perfectly safe and extremely normal. You just need to find your people, and sometimes it is hard and it does feel lonely. I'm with you, though. I'm here to enjoy the evil bullshit and revel in it LOL. There's literally nothing in the series that is wholesome except for Mojo.

To be honest, I’m not into Loustat at all. And not in a morally superior way—they don’t really do it for me but also Lestat reminds me waaaaaaaay too much of my abuser and Louis reminds me way too much of myself when I was stuck in that relationship. It isn’t fun for me to engage with Loustat content because I tend to only see the manipulation and gaslighting when I look at it, and for me personally it’s juuuuuuust a bit too close to the reality I lived through.  I would argue that my OTP Armand/Daniel is the most toxic ship in VC but I was never kidnapped by a vampire or stalked across the globe while being literally addicted to his body fluid so yknow, that don’t bother me. =P But it’s 100% normal to look at canon toxic ships and play in the sandbox to either “fix” them or to like, take control of the narrative and allow yourself some catharsis by digging into it in a safe imaginary space. When I have the chance I like to mAkE thEM WORSE

So it’s been occurring to me when I see the enthusiasm of these fans for the show that perhaps they don’t particularly like canon to begin with? So changing it this drastically isn’t an issue to them? I’m sure everyone has their own reasons and I don’t want to generalize. On the issue of Claudia, for example: I think she is an intrinsic part of the plot and drives very profound feminist messages in the book, and I think her being a small child is absolutely essential to that story. I recognize that there are morally reprehensible moments in text regarding her and to me I’m like GOOD, IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE GROSS. It’s supposed to be gross!!!! It’s a horror novel!!!!!! And Anne Rice was a writer who wanted to always talk about the full spectrum of human emotion, including sexual emotion, so having sexual themes intertwined with the horror was completely on purpose! 

Then you see some people who ONLY see that it’s gross and can’t connect with the full scope of her story because it’s too uncomfortable. And like, you do you bestie! Curate that experience for yourself! Have boundaries and love yourself enough to stay safe!!! But I do think it’s wild the amount of complaints I’ve seen about Claudia, for example, which strike me as particularly ironic because it’s almost meta in the way they’ve embodied the entire reason her character is tragic. People infantilizing Claudia as a character, unable to engage with the topic of her at all, is exactly the reason she’s a tragedy in canon, because she can be as old as she wants and people will always see her as a child. D:

As far as the TV show goes lol. 

Being fair, I don’t think we know enough yet to know how evil & problematic they’re going to be. LMAO. I hope it’s like unhinged gaslighting abusive romance bc like, WHAT ARE YOU WASTING OUR TIME FOR IF NOT? But I always have found it funny when you see people who seem to otherwise hate everything problematic in VC somehow cape for Loustat as if it’s any different from the other ships. 😂  

My concerns at this moment are that the way they changed Claudia is a huge red flag to me about whether or not they will engage in the problematic elements, and I’m not thrilled that RJ says the rest of the books give you a better picture of Lestat than just IWTV, because I disagree. Like, hearing from his own voice definitely allows us to know his sense of humor and we can see he’s a bi disaster, but he’s already CHARMING in IWTV. Louis falls for his shit because he’s charming. So I don’t think we need to know that he considers himself faultless for him to have a fuller portrayal on the show. 

Like, I hope the show portrays them as being an abusive ship and shows all the nuance that it deserves, but RJ’s comments reminded me of the binary we see over and over in VC fandom about trying to get to the bottom about WHICH ONE OF THEM WAS LYING. (And it was Lestat, imo LOL he’s told on himself many many times.) So claiming IWTV is an incomplete portrayal of him makes me wonder if RJ comprehended that Lestat is a charming manipulator who abuses everyone in his life LOL. And ESPECIALLY with the time shift + age difference I think this puts them in a very different context. A Lestat who is turned in his 30s with a fully baked prefrontal cortex is going to have a very different temperament from canon Lestat, and even moreso when we understand he’s not a traumatized, freshly-bereaved fledgling anymore but like OVER A CENTURY OLD LMAO so like, he’s had time to calm down and gain some wisdom and that would have to make such a huge difference on the level of coercion. (That’s another red flag for me too is that RJ goes “no no we just changed a couple little things !” and the things he changed are like HUGE??????? So him saying that makes me skeptical again about the nuance of the abuse here.) 

I also have some concerns bc some of the show’s team has worked on other titles that were about toxic male antiheros and there are definitely moments in those shows where you can’t tell if the writers are aware of themselves. IE: Tony Soprano is a racist bad guy who kills people and cheats on his wife, and yet there are still occasional narratives on The Sopranos that show the creators also had some of those same biases, and you must wonder if some of Tony’s actions or behavior weren’t intended to be catalogued in the ways he’s very evil.

So looking at the way they’re speaking about Lestat’s characterization, that they’re referring to it as a romance, and some of the patterns in their other work I do have concerns about how the abuse will be portrayed. I also worry about how the abuse will play on screen now that there is an added racial element, and if it will be too cruel or edge into messages that feel too real and hurtful to the audience. And, to circle back lmao, I’m not uncomfortable with objectionable morals in my fiction, but, some nuance would be good. 

Don’t get me wrong like I hope the ship on the TV show is like ABUSIVE and SEXY and I hope Louis is like HORNY and TRAPPED because he knows he should leave but he CANNOT! And I want there to be some steamy frustrated hatesex! And huge fights and makeup sex! LOL. But yeah I mean, pretending that Loustat is wholesome is a complete joke, and I really really hope that the show doesn’t misunderstand Loustat to a point where they aren’t aware of what they’re really portraying. LET THE STORY BE ABUSIVE BUT PLEASE BE AWARE OF YOURSELF! 

(Anne could have used this advice too in the second half of the series LMAO whoops but I think having that nuance would ultimately make these stories even richer. HERE I AM COMPLAINING ABOUT CANON NONCOMPLIANCE EXCEPT MAKING AN EXTREMELY UNAWARE PORTRAYAL OF ABUSE IS COMPLETELY CANON, my bad.) 

And basically like. If it’s not going to be those things I’m just back to wondering why they wanted to adapt this book? So far the only thing in common with canon is like… New Orleans???? An interview of some type will take place? They have the same names? 

So it’s hard to hear the team talk about how respectful they are of the book when…. They’re not keeping anything from the book? LOL. What exactly did you see in this story that you wanted to express? I don’t get it. 😂 And I would hate for a book about morally dubious characters and abusive romances to be like, a campy vampire romance without any of those questions and themes. 

I’m not saying any of this to nitpick or be needlessly negative; I’m saying it to say it’s some of the things I’ve been wondering and some of the clues I’ve been looking for during the past year to see what exactly is going on with this show LOL. Again, I don’t think the trailer told us enough to know. I’ve been critical and looking for these things and genuinely don’t have a solid opinion yet because I haven’t gotten enough information. Lestat is certainly being extremely predatory and he looks unhinged as fuck so that’s a good sign LMAO. Louis even refers to it in the voiceover as being “hunted”, so it’s nice to know that he feels that way with 100 years of perspective. But we’ll have to wait and see! 

I think at this point I’m really hoping for like HANNIBAL LEVEL fuckery and like that type of unhinged gaslighting and manipulation LOL and I think Hannibal was about as far from canon as VCTV looks so far. I’m just doing my best to compartmentalize and be fair about the show while also acknowledging my extremely deep disappointment that we waited 5 years for WOLFKILLER STUFF AND NICKI only to be given an AU fanfic lol. And like, I give Hannibal a bit of a pass because by the time that show came out there had already been like 5 movies made of that franchise and they were mostly faithful so like at that point the idea had already been explored and it was time to remix. I don’t feel VC has ever gotten that shot yet so it’s sad that they went straight for a remix :( 

anyway sorry, I disappeared off tumblr for years but I apparently still answer anons with exceedingly meandering essays, I have no idea if this answered what you were asking but LOL YOLO ✌️

[d0d0-b0i]

i do not often talk about stuff like this, but i am now!! setting my bases on this one extremely particular feeling i have about something i see commonly enough to be confused by (will be talking about transmen in explicit fanfiction, put under a readmore in case any1 don’t wanna deal with that which is perfectly understandable. also obv disclaimer please don’t read this if you’re a minor. personal preference):

alright. i think it is weird how often transmen in fanfiction end up being the bottoms.

this is such a weird thing for me to talk about hence the read more, but for anyone wondering, in case it wasn’t blatantly obvious, i am a trans man myself and am basing this biased opinion on my life experience and not anything else really. my blog, my rules baybee B)

but anyway back to the topic at hand. whenever i look through a fandoms ao3, any fandom at all, whenever a trans guy is involved in an explicit fic, he almost always is described as the bottom whether it be in the works tags or be shown later on throughout the fic. i just. don’t understand why??

what is the idea here. that transmen are bottoms by default? that we will automatically be fine with using our genitals to satisfy a partner? i get confused. don’t get me wrong, there are many guys like that out there(nothin wrong with it either), what i am pointing out is the near constant of this trend wherein that is the assumption.

it reminds me of the abo conundrum i have talked about once before. why must the dynamics be so simple? hurrdurr alpha big strong top who protect weak omega mate. hurrdurr cisman big strong protect weak transmate who’s oh so small and fuckable and defenseless. do you see where i am going with this? i’m not going mad am i? to see that some authors just want to use transmen as stand-ins so that they don’t have to tag their work with abo?

please validate the words i spew. it feels almost perverted the way people write about us. as if we’re not real? goes all the way back to yaoi dynamics too. some people cannot fathom a relationship where it’s not just a simple top/bottom dynamic. idk man. shits weird and i see it wherever i go. (tragically even in the sonic fandom while scrolling through the ao3 tag. I DO NOT READ IT FOR IT IS ABOUT MINORS, OBVIOUSLY. THE OBSERVATION IS MADE THROUGH THE WORKS TAGS. prefacing that because i am paranoid <3

anyway. last paragraph because otherwise i will go mad. i feel deranged typing this out honestly. there are probably a thousand different explanations as to why certain authors write transmen the way they do in explicit fiction, but i just. cannot unsee the world the way i view it. cannot unsee the unspoken thread of if a man in a gay relationship is more “feminine”, whether that be by being an omega, or not being cis, or being short or whatever else, is automatically in the position of “bottom”. it just boggles my mind. feel free to add on to this. i’m sorry for going insane live. it just feels so weird, how many characters will be headcanoned as trans men just so they can get pregnant :/ feels weird tbh. that’s all you see us as? men that OF COURSE want to get impregnated and give birth why wouldn’t we? it’s not like there’s usually crippling dysphoria. oh wait lmao

[tazicypher]

Will It Fit? One-Shot

WELCOME TO MY FIC DEBUT BAYBEE!!!!

Y'all can thank @matchstick6812 for being a true supportive QUEEN and encouraging me to post this!! (u are the light of my LYFE enjoy bestie)

Summary: Fitting room shenanigans inspired by this prompt: “You tried on a shirt that was too small in the store I work the changing rooms at and I had to help you out of it and now we’re making small talk” au from this post

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Genre/features: Retail AU, heavy flirting, lots of humor & references, some thirsting, usage of pet names bc I am WEAK FOR THESE MEN

Word Count: 2.9K

Rating: T but minors DNI this blog ain't for u my wee ones

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking/partying, s!ut used in a positive context, humor-laced distress at having to ask for help

Fic below the read more break!

You were practically floating through the mall, radiating the aura of freshly hit direct deposit from the paycheck that booty-dropped its way into your bank account last night. The only worry on your mind now was the fresh digs awaiting you on the rack at the new store that opened up. It was supposed to specialize in a mixture of club wear and unique fashion so you were excited when you saw its neon-lit display on the other side of your favorite smoothie spot. 

When you walked in with a smoothie adorned by a sassy straw, a baritone voice rang out to welcome you in. You gave them a quick smile, not at all surprised that the employees here are ridiculously attractive. The clerk folding clothes had soft brown hair with light curls that fell into his eyes and loose clothing that alluded to a fit silhouette. To be honest, it motivated you to find something in here that would make you feel as good as he looked. Your mission was set on obtaining a new top that would go well with the leather skirt you bought last month, so you filled your arms with any strappy and slutty contraption you could find in their late-night section while day-dreaming about all the free drinks you could get next Friday in the right look. 

Haul in tow, you strut yourself over to the fitting rooms, stopping yourself from catching the attention of the attendant that had his back turned to you. He was squatting down, ass looking fine as hell in black skinny jeans that tucked nicely into Chelsea boots. When he was about to stand, you cleared your throat to announce your presence, watching as he turned to you with a pleasant smile on his cherub face. His white collared shirt was tucked into the high-waisted jeans, accenting his slim waist, while silver earrings glistened in the bright lighting of the fitting rooms to compliment his jawline.

“How many sweetie?” He asked you, leaning against the counter. 

“Um, to be honest I didn’t count.” you laughed and he returned a polite chuckle while tapping the counter with his hand. You deposited the pile of clothes and sipped on your drink while you read the smudged words on the badge that hung around his neck that roughly equated to “once you” above his name - Jimin - “you can’t Jim-out” below it.

Lizzo’s “Good as Hell” rang out from the speakers while he counted the hangers and plucked up a bright pink placard. “We don’t allow drinks in the fitting rooms.” He pointed to a sign on the edge of the entrance that you had to turn around to see, and his bell-like laugh greeted your ears when he walked around the counter to kick the trash can further under the desk. “But I’ll let it pass this time because you’re cute.” He winked before grinning at you and spinning to lead you down the hall of mirrored doors. You pressed the cold drink to your hot cheeks as subtly as you could. “Name?” He called over his shoulder.

“Y/N.”

“That’s pretty.” He mumbled as he wrote your name out in bubble letters, opening the door to hang up your tops while his leg kept the door propped open. You drank your smoothie a little faster, trying not to admire the way the fabric flexed on his thighs or the fact that all the mirrors in the dressing room offered every angle on a silver platter. Girl, get a grip. Lizzo’s voice reminds you of your mission: to blow way too much of your paycheck on cute clothes to be the one that’s admired. 

“Thank you.” You squeaked out when he held the door open for you. 

“I’ll just be at the counter if you need a different size or anything. Feel free to call me - my name is Jimin!” He then went back to his post at the front of the area. Now safely secured in the bubble of your fitting room, Doja Cat came on the speakers like the universe was cheering you on. You briefly wondered if Jimin would like any of these on you. 

Slipping off your own shirt you shook your head, he probably helped dozens of people a day, you needed to vibe.

Your haul was relatively successful so far, some of the minidresses you picked out fit well and you had three top contenders to go with the leather skirt you were aiming to find a partner for, but now it was time to try on the shirt you picked off the clearance rank. Much like Mario Kart, you have some curves that men find enticing. This was your double edged sword in life because while you served the D to the E, to the L-I-C-I-O-U-S, dressing your assets did not come without its risks. You’ve had to jump into your jeans in front of college one-night-stands and risk a nip-slip at way too many pool parties to think this top was a good idea. It was gleaning on the edge of too small, and your tatas will either come out looking fierce or like an orange shoved into a glass. Still, you persisted like the warrior you are. Kesha did not raise a quitter.

It should have been simple really, the shirt was a black tube top with straps that rounded over the breasts up to your neck and then turned into fringe at the shoulders, but you were sure the entire store could hear you grunt and gasp and curse as the damned thing practically choked you like an anaconda. Fuck you Nicki Minaj, apparently this one don’t want none and we should have left it in the rainforest (read: clearance rack) where it belonged.

Finally pulling it over your face, you sucked in a loud gasp before tugging the zipper on the back up to your nape, satisfied. Hands on your hips, you looked in the mirror with a proud smirk. They had us in the first half, not gonna lie, but you were nothing if not determined to get a good deal. Clicking your tongue, you examined yourself in the mirror. The body of the shirt sat well and the fringe was fun, but the tatas were where the magic was supposed to happen and failed like a middle school talent show. It reminded you of when your bestie Mattie sent you a photo she took of when she shoved her knees into the neck of one of her favorite dresses during a stint she had on a dating app. You wished she was here to help you in and out of this monstrosity, and normally she would be heaux-ing it up with you, but she was busy traveling for work this weekend.

“A career woman,” you sighed dreamily, “just like Elle Woods.”

You reached forward for your drink, needing to refuel before getting back to business to defeat the funds. However, when you reached back for the zipper, your arm couldn't move all the way because of the constricting fabric.

“Damn anaconda,” You murmured, attempting to shove your arm into the shirt to pull it off you instead. Unfortunately, this was an even worse idea as now your elbow was definitely caught in the stupid plastic strap meant for the hanger and the top was out of stretch. Any more tugging and you’d Magic Mike this shit open. You pressed your forehead against the door, weighing out the option of living your life in this mirrored box. How much money would you need to doordash food here until the grim reaper needed to shop for a date night outfit too? Could a contractor walk you through installing a shower via phone call? You’ll probably have to cancel the subscription on your mobile games to conserve funds until you can score some sponsorships for “longest person to live in a fitting room” - is that a Guinness World Record? You’d look it up but you can’t waste battery life until Mattie gets back in town to bring you a charger from home. This is it. This is how you die. By an alien predator that sucks the oxygen from your body slowly but surely while disguised as a cheap fast-fashion shirt.

You hear the click clack of Chelsea boots and debate calling for Jimin. You wonder if he could round up some strong girls in the store to help you on the claim that you needed someone to hoist you higher to fix the lightbulb in here, but after glancing up you realize the store is perfectly intact - the damn maintenance crew did their job. Sighing, you call his name.

“Hey Jimin?” You hear him click a hanger onto a rack and walk over to your door.

“How can I help?”

“By chance, do you have any female employees?” His answering chuckle stung your heart like ice.

“I can assure you my fashion sense is as good as any-”

“No no! That’s not what I meant at all. I need help with a zipper.”

“O-oh.” He cleared his throat, “Well, I can look away once I have my hands on the zipper if that’s okay?” he suggested, clearly unsure.

You sighed, figuring this was as good as it was going to get unless you were going to become the next Buzzfeed article. You unlocked the door with your free hand, hesitating on the knob.

“You have to promise not to laugh.”

“I promise, sweetheart.” Jimin calls, voice gentle this time.

You whip open the door and see his eyes widen down at you through the slim gold rimmed glasses as he takes in your exposed skin and titties that looked more like two stuck together gumballs than cleavage. Jimin went from awe to clearly pressing his lips together in an attempt not to laugh when his eyes dropped down to your tyrannosaurus arm sticking out from the not-so-safety net that was your shirt.

“You promised.” You announced, face void of amusement.

“Right, yes, turn around and let me help.” Jimin gave you an apologetic smile, eyes sparkling with mischief that made your heart pound a little quicker.

You held your hair out of the way for him as he tugged the zipper down, freeing your neck from its confines. You went to wiggle your arm out, but you were still stuck in the unforgiving fabric tube.

“Uh,” Jimin hesitated, “Do you want me to help pull it up? I can close my eyes.”

“Honestly you’ll probably need them open,” You muttered, “This thing is more complicated than a damn knot in the boy scouts.” 

At this Jimin perked up “I was a boy scout!”

“I might make it out of here alive then.” His bell-like laugh released some of the tension in the room while he reached forward to slip his hands under the bottom of the shirt. 

Here’s where things got complicated. The straps routinely got caught in your earrings, Jimin had to maneuver your arms and hair in ten different directions, and you basically wrestled yourselves deeper into the fitting room with a flurry of cuss words and grunts until he perched a boot onto the bench and sat you down to finally pull the last strip of the shirt from your arms. You were pretty sure you heard the alien shirt scream out “I’ll see you in hell!” so you made sure to get out “You tell them who sent you!” through a mouthful of polyester. You fell back against the mirrored wall, panting from battle, while he caught his breath holding the offending garment in his fist.

Jimin reached up to push his hair off his forehead and squinted at the rough paper that brushed against his hand.

“The clearance rack?” He muttered, holding up the tag with a neon yellow mark-down sticker. “No fucking wonder no one’s left with this yet.” Jimin looked up at you with a smile to celebrate the victory of freeing you when he realized you were sitting in jeans and a bra, and you came to the same conclusion as you snatched your shirt up to cover your chest. His cool facade cracked as he all but bolted out, red in the face and not from physical exertion, and closed the door behind him.

You can thank Rihanna for teaching you better than to go shopping in granny undies, if you had to be half naked in front of Jimin, an opaque lacy bra was the way to go.

“Y/N?” Speaking of the devil, he called for you from the hallway.

“Yes?” You didn’t mean to sound as breathless as you did, but you’d blame it on the amatuer wrestling even under oath. Really, you should have tried out for WWE, that would have solved a lot of your issues today. You’d be training under spotlights, bouncing on your heels, throwing chairs at worthy opponents instead of guys that look at your bestie wrong. Honestly, it’s amazing you haven’t been banned from more clubs. Maybe Mattie would be willing to pour a pitcher of water over you in the corner of the ring.

Jimin’s voice interrupted your thought choo-choo with a sultry tone, and you could practically hear a smirk adorn his face “How about I stay here and help you choose what you want to take home?” 

You grinned, “I’d like that.”

Jimin patiently leaned against the opposing fitting room as you tried on several more - correctly sized - tops and minidresses, and the only time he left your side was to pick out a few things he felt would look good on you. You couldn’t stop smiling every time he would compliment the way dresses sat on your curves or comment on which shirt would go well with the skirt you showed him a photo of. He even found a cute pair of shorts for you to match with some blouses once spring hits. You spoke about your favorite seasons, fashion icons, music artists, and he even shared some funny jokes from when he played a whisper challenge game with his friends. His coworker - who was also his best friend - even came over to join in on the story-telling when there was a lack of customers of the floor, and you were probably imagining the possessive glint that flashed across Jimin’s eyes when you giggled at some of Taehyung’s jokes.

Jimin would switch between being the sweetest gentleman to unabashed flirt in the span of seconds, practically giving you whiplash. You, however, were matching him head-on by serving your own winks or asking for help with zippers you definitely could have done on your own. When Jimin realized you were on your last dress, he took his time pulling the zipper down so slowly you could practically hear the clink of each tooth while his other hand held your hip still. You pushed your hair over your shoulder and looked back at him with a flirty smile across your lips, watching Jimin bite his lower lip when he grinned at you and backed away so you could finish changing. 

Back to being a gentleman, he took every single item in the fitting room for you, placing the garments that were vetoed out on a rack to sort later and strutting the rest up to the register while you trailed behind him. You were a little disappointed your time with Jimin was up, and you idly wondered if you had the energy to try on half the store, but your smoothie was long finished and he technically had a job to do. 

“You know, we’re having a sale next weekend if you want to find something on a good deal that won’t strangle you. I can set some things aside if you think you’ll be here.” Jimin mentioned idly as he rang up your purchase, eyes flitting up to yours briefly.

You gesture to the pile of clothes he was folding into the bag and laughed, “Depends on if I can afford the damages.” Jimin raised a perfect brow at you from under his ashy bangs while he punched a few keys on the computer.

Suddenly Taehyung called for your attention, he was holding a trash bag from the back and held it out for your empty cup, a boxy smile adorning his face when you thanked him.

Jimin flashed you another one of his cherub smiles and spun the card reader around for you. Brows furrowed, you mouthed the prices of the clothes to yourself while trying to figure out why the total seemed so low. Then it hit you, he had punched in his employee discount. Your jaw dropped and eyes widened as you looked up at him to dispute the generous offer, but he had his index finger pressed to his lips while leaning his chin into his hand. A raised eyebrow further challenged you to refuse him, and you found yourself thanking him repeatedly instead. 

“I’ll come back,” you promised with a smile, “I’ll be needing some accessories anyway.”

He smirked as he scribbled something onto your printed receipt and promptly tucked it into the bag, holding it out for you.

“Have a great night!” Taehyung called behind the boxes he was carrying.

“You both as well!” You called over your shoulder, pulling out the receipt to see what message Jimin had left for you.

Call me! :) was tucked under your total with a number, and you threw him a wink before disappearing from his sight. 

Hope y'all enjoyed!!! Let me know your thoughts!

Taglist: @greattriumphbear (ty for being incredible and my first tag u beautiful creature)

[dollsonmain]

[unhappy] Story time!

So, back in Ye Olden AOL days, there were pre-made chat rooms for different cities and stuff and you’d get your regulars. I was a regular, everyone else knew I was a kid.

Around that time I found out my mother was having an affair with this dude named Barry, and I found out because AOL was set up in such a way that you could read someone’s emails without logging in if they’d set up their profile to allow that (you’d select their profile from the log in splash page and click a button or something and you could get into emails they’d already read but nothing new IIRC) and I guess my mom had set that up. I was a nosy little weasel that got into everything and went and read her emails (and got in her purse where she had compromising photos of her with some guy who may or may not have been Barry, fuck if I know, and the cigarettes she totally was not smoking, she was just holding them for someone (¬_¬ )).

My step-dad had been suspicious of her having an affair for a while because she kept randomly “working late” and he’d ask me now and then but I had no idea up until that point.

I confronted the dude because she’d broken it off and he was pushing her to get back together with him. I remember threatening him that if he ever contacted my mom again, I’d tell my step-dad.

He did contact her again and she talked to me about it and begged me not to tell dad. I wanted to, though, because I hated that man and would be very happy if they were to get a divorce and I’d not have to live with him anymore.

I also told my mom how I got into her emails and how to disable the no-login email thing.

Anyway I’m sitting in the chat room one evening, and Barry pops in. Apparently he was a regular, too, just at different times than me. I was on in the afternoons and most of the adults at night.

I went quiet and watched him for a bit. He was pretty gross, really, just in general. Like flirty but in a very uncomfortable, heavy handed way.

I remember I sat and waited and at one point I said “This is the kind of man my mother is having an affair with? I thought she had better taste than that.” (which, I mean, I knew she didn’t, she did date my father and married my step-dad).

I remember the chat went silent, and after a bit Barry left without saying anything. Everyone else was like WHAT. WAS THAT. Don’t know if Barry ever came back to the chat.

-

They’re still married somehow, even though I’ve always hated my step-dad (he’s an asshole and would use his size to intimidate and physically hurt me to keep me in line), and she kind of doesn’t like him much these days, either.

I wonder how dolphinguy and tinka are doing sometimes. Don’t remember anyone else, really.

-

Just remembered another story about my mom!

So this one time she just vanished with my little brother, didn’t say they were leaving I came out of my room and the house was empty, didn’t say where she was going, and didn’t come back. She could do this because my step-dad was both an EMT and fireman and would be away for blocks of a few days at a time. I was very worried. It was pre-cell-phone times so it’s not like I could have called or texted her.

1am she finally comes home skunk drunk and I’m like where’s my baby brother!? I was DISTRAUGHT.

He was at my aunt’s house.

But mom and I got in a big fight, she pushed me, I went to my room and she followed me, took my depression meds and flushed them (cold turkey quit, baybee! followed by 6 years of withdrawal symptoms!) picked up a bag of garbage and flung it all around my room, and then called the cops to come and take me away and told me to pack a bag because I wouldn’t be coming back.

The police showed up and were like “She’s drunk, you’re just a kid... Stay away from each other for the night, we’re not taking you anywhere.” They asked about my room because she had told them I was a slob like that and I had to tell them that no, I’m messy but not like THIS, she did this.

And then I went to my trashed room and cried, but she came down and took away a teddy bear I’d been given that was made with her late mother’s coat. Then she went to bed and I spent the night cleaning my room, because it was covered in literal garbage. Moldy food and......

In the morning she gave me the bear back and didn’t say anything and that was it.

-

Same mom that used to throw away everything I owned from time to time to try to scare me into being tidy.

-

It’s no wonder that I didn’t turn to her for help when I needed it back in 2005 to get away from That Guy. I’ve been trying to escape him since then and failing.

She still was like, to my son, “If you need a place to go you can come to my house. Oh. You, too.” flippantly, offhand as an afterthought to me.

So.

I’m happy that Son has a fallback if he needs it, but I don’t think I would ever go back there even now.

[subskz]

i said i would come back and then proceeded to think exactly 0 thoughts for several days. BUT OHOHO HUMILIATING HYUNJIN BAYBEE!!!

you really are so right about hyunjin making me want to be mean for lichrally no reason. like i just wanna!!! mess him up a little because he would still look so ridiculously ethereal even after crying and sweating like how??? oh god and overstimulating him and just being soooooo condescending about it. calling him a little pathetic and a crybaby for not being able to handle the pleasure, especially if he was begging for more at any point (because he would). like "i thought you wanted more baby? but now you can't handle more. so disappointing" LIKE AHHHH

and then aftercare always gets me just holding him close and reassuring him that anything he does makes you happy and how he is your best boy forever and always <3 EEEE it makes me squeal like a little kid i SWEAR -🦊

you weren’t kidding when you said you scrolled all the way to the bottom of the blog omg! 🤭 i’m very glad we’re all on the same page abt hyunie being so bullyable hehe just knowing how adorably honest all his reactions would be to your harsh treatment makes it hard to resist torturing him a lil bit~

he really would look unfairly pretty even when you’ve wrecked him to the fullest (yeni voice) hyunjin looks sexiest when he’s sweaty! it’s almost like he was made to be roughed up like that…hair tousled and damp, lips red and swollen, and face dripping w sweat n tears <3 poor thing’s already so embarrassed abt how quickly your words get to him and how easy it is to get him crying for you…mocking as he starts to tear up would be the icing on the cake~

and reassuring him afterwards yes ㅠㅠ hyunjin can be so hard on himself so letting him cling to you to his heart’s content while you rub his back n murmur words of adoration is a must! telling him how well he did for you and how lucky you are to have him…kiss away all his pretty tears…normally he’d get shy abt so much affection but in that moment it’s pure bliss to him ♡

[hansolmates]

one more time (m)

pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]

if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨

“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.” 

“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events. 

“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong. 

The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit. 

“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines. 

Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door. 

The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel. 

“Name?” 

“Xu Minghao.” 

“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go. 

“Name?” 

“Chou Tzuyu.” 

“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?” 

“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?” 

The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you. 

“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!” 

“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?” 

Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad. 

By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time. 

“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.” 

Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city. 

“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?” 

“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.” 

“Oh please—”  you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion. 

“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest. 

You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”

“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…” 

“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier. 

You and Jungkook used to fool around. 

Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”  

“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside. 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.

The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities. 

You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed. 

Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week. 

And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof. 

The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax. 

It’s going to be a long week. 

Jeon: where u @?

You: hotel room

Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together

You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉  have a good night

You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself. 

Your phone rings once more. 

Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our  room? Plsssssss 

Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰

Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth. 

Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position. 

Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret. 

“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.” 

Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse. 

“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby. 

“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink. 

You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook. 

These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite. 

You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form. 

“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall. 

Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“So… you decided to check all the rooms?” 

“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.” 

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in. 

“Fuck, this room all to yourself?” 

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric. 

It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship. 

As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet  your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual. 

“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”

“And… what are you feeling?” 

“Dumb things.” 

“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

“This time they are.”

“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.” 

How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.” 

“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.” 

“Right, friends.”

“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?” 

“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.” 

Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time. 

“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.

This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?” 

“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”

“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake. 

“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.” 

You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.” 

His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?” 

“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand. 

You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort. 

“I don’t want her,” he finally says. 

“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”

“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.

“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.  

“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—” 

“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—” 

“You’re deflecting, again.” 

“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.” 

“I'm not going anywhere this time.” 

“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?” 

You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more. 

“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?” 

Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?” 

Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.” 

“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.  

If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end. 

You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self. 

“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?” 

Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.” 

“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”

“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”  

You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later. 

“A date,” she twitches,  “with who?” 

“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall. 

You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves. 

“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?” 

“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?” 

“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!” 

“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.

But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.” 

You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?” 

“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.” 

“Consider yourself taken.”  

Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop. 

You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese. 

And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world. 

It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun. 

Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional. 

At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that. 

But Tzuyu? She irritating. 

“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away. 

Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week? 

“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?” 

It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy. 

But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing. 

Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again? 

You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd. 

You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby. 

Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.  

You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago. 

The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk. 

Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week. 

The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.

“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—” 

Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled. 

“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.” 

“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.” 

“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms. 

By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside. 

“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed. 

“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.” 

“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—” 

Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin. 

“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.” 

“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.

You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips. 

But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush. 

“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.” 

So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness. 

You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.

“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions. 

You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist. 

“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass. 

It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact. 

“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up. 

“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.” 

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.” 

Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.” 

He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you. 

“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be. 

“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout. 

“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!” 

Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets. 

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?” 

“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.” 

You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him. 

“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?” 

“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room. 

“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination. 

“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.” 

He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless. 

There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you. 

“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”

You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.” 

“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up." 

“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!” 

Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest. 

“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.” 

bonus. 

You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat. 

"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible. 

"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body. 

"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.

"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?" 

"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad." 

"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"

"I do."

"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."

"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."

"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry." 

"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough." 

[hellerradio]

We’re back, baybee! We missed you while we were away, so let’s celebrate by getting pretty Meta(tron) about these episodes! From Cas trying his hardest, to Sam and Dean making some really bad choices, and all the raw AF lines from Naomi in between, let’s get into it! ☕️

➡️ Listen here!

Episodes discussed:

8x21 - The Great Escapist

8x22 - Clip Show

[translightyagami]

A short piece about Soichiro's thoughts when he finds out about Lawlight if you can and would like?

(i think people might be sick of me making Light being able to sew, like, a personality trait but they are going to continue in that sickness bc BAYBEE i did it again ... also thank u for the fic prompt lol)

cross-posted on ao3!

Soichiro found Light in the task force floor kitchen, at the table with a silver handcuff around his wrist. Through chair legs snaked the chain to an empty, open cuff across from Light. He was alone. As Soichiro entered, he knocked the door frame and his son glanced from his work – stitching back together a sleeve on a familiar white shirt.

“Hey, Dad,” Light said. “It’s late. Aren’t you supposed to be home?”

“Oh, I’m staying for a bit longer,” Soichiro said. He stood at the counter and considered washing out his mug. Brown rings traced the bottom telling of a full day of too much caffeine. “Are you … where’s Ryuzaki?”

“You mean this?” Light raised his wrist, shaking the chain with a little jingle. “He’s with Watari, going over the budget for the building. Staff and stuff.”

“And you’re alone,” Soichiro smiled into his words, “because he trusts you. That’s progress!”

“Mm.” Light drew his eyes back down to his sewing. His long fingers worked a backstitch with red thread, the quick movements closing the armpit of the shirt. “He’s got cameras.”

Swallowing, Soichiro resisted the urge to look around for the cameras Light mentioned. He liked, instead, the idea that L was giving a little. That was how things always were for Light, his good son. At some point, everyone gave in a little bit to him and his smile, his polite ease with all temperaments, the way he was good – in most meanings. Soichiro took the pot of coffee Matsuda had overfilled and poured a cup. Was Light good? Maybe he was overstating those qualities. Over the too-strong sip of coffee he took, Soichiro glanced to his son.

There was a hickey on Light’s neck.

“Has Ryuzaki let you be alone many times?” Soichiro, eyes still on the hickey, took a seat across from Light. “Do you get to spend time with that girl, Miss Amane?”

“Huh?” Attention not pulling away from his sewing task, Light scrunched his nose before snorting. “No, no. It’s only when he needs to talk to Watari about finances or something. Usually, I mean, you know. We’re attached.”

“Attached.”

“Package deal,” Light looked to Soichiro now, teeth showing in his smile. The smile faltered, slightly, when he noticed where his father’s gaze was. Dropping the needle and thread, he wrapped his hand over the hickey. “Dad.”

He didn’t look away from Soichiro, brown eyes so much like the ones that stared back from the mirror that Soichiro blinked, unnerved. What did he know about his son? What did he know about Light, his good son, who was a “package deal” with a man who thought of him as a maybe-killer? From the ether, Soichiro remembered in his early days on the force coming home to Sachiko teaching Light basic stitches. It was the first in a string of late nights where he came home before Light was asleep. His coming in hadn’t caught up to them, so he hung back – watching as his knob-kneed son threaded a pain-staking line across a fabric scrap while his wife pointed out small improvements he could make. He remembered the moment, clear as a glass breaking, because he had never taught his son anything in the quiet, focused way Sachiko was. And when he announced himself, saw how Light dropped the needle and thread to come spill all his academic achievements to his father, Soichiro wondered whether he’d ever willingly get to see that side of his son again. Someone struggling, someone learning – someone not good but trying their best.

Did Ryuzaki see that, when he had Light on-demand – on the end of a chain – all day and night? Across from him, Light brushed his hair forward to cover the hickey.

“I do his mending, sometimes,” Light said. His voice was a loop, low and cursive tone matching his needle as he started to stitch again. “Watari used to do it, but Ryuzaki said my work is better.” Red thread popped out from the white fabric – a fox poking out from its den. “You don’t approve. I know. It’s okay.”

“I didn’t say that,” Soichiro sipped, coffee catching in his mustache. “You should be careful. If he doesn’t trust you, you shouldn’t trust him.”

“It’s not about trust.”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about being understood,” Light said. “I understand Ryuzaki. He, sometimes, understands me, knows things about me.”

Faint pink crossed Light’s cheeks. The look was weak – a visage of someone Soichiro didn’t recognize. He tried not to frown, but he couldn’t help the downturn of his mouth. In the vain part of his heart, he didn’t like Ryuzaki, L, whomever the man giving his son hickeys called himself, knowing anything about Light.

“And what sort of things does he understand about you?” Soichiro inhaled the steam of his coffee, nostrils flaring.

Now Light smiled and it was a crack in a wall – between the stone and serious of him Soichiro spied a terrible, secret garden. He picked up the white shirt again, rubbing the needle between his thumb and finger.

“He understands,” Light said, “that he shouldn’t trust me.”

Up his back, Soichiro’s muscles locked and he, in a strange moment of unison, understood such a thing as well.

[wyn-n-tonic]

Same Time, Same Place -- A Sneak Peek

Word Count: 500 Warnings: None? We're setting the VIBES, baybee. Author's Note: Okay, this was originally just going to be a little one shot inspired by @hnt-escape​'s brilliant prompt that got the cogs in my broken brain turning but now the caffeine has kicked in and I'm just really.... feeling this and where this story can go and I'm inspired because I find Javier to be one of the more intimidating of The Boys to write for. Thank you to @danniburgh​ for being a sounding board on this. 

“Can we fucking go?” The sweat poured off your face in buckets and you could feel the beginning of a heat rash where your thighs touched in the piping hot Texas heat. 

You hate the farmer’s market and even if Becca always got you the flowers you liked and a baklava, it didn’t matter. This shit should be outlawed in the south.

She’s promising you it won’t be much longer, promising that lunch is on the horizon.

“Do you need eggs for Allison’s birthday cake?”

“No, I’v—“ you start to tell her you’ve got enough at home when you look up at Chucho’s booth, the older man you’ve become acquainted with since moving to Laredo, and he’s not there. In his place stands someone so much younger, soft curls gathering at the back of his head and a lavender button-up clinging to his broad frame.

“On second thought,” your feet start to move in his direction, “I think they might have gone bad and you know I don’t like using the stuff from the store.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she’s distracted by the local beekeeper’s honey selection, “you like it straight from the butt, whatever.” 

It’s just a few short steps and now you see the sweat that drips across his collarbone, the buttons undone just below casual decency.

“Hi,” you say, clutching harder to the small bouquet in your hands.

He looks up from where he’s rearranging his inventory and the smile he gives you is devastating as he says, “well hello there yourself.” 

“Is Chucho okay?” 

That makes his smile grow brighter, “dad’s a bit under the weather today so I offered to take over the booth, I can pass along your well wishes if you’d like?” 

“That would be really nice,” you nod your head, “thank you.” 

He lifts his sunglasses up to rest like a crown on those curls and offers you his hand, brown eyes glinting in the southern sun, “I'm Javier,” it rolls off his tongue, “and who can I tell pop is sending their good word?”

“Um,” you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks flushing with a new heat, “he calls me Panaderita.”

“Little Baker, huh?” He looks around, “Where’s your booth?”

You laugh, “Oh no, Javie—“

“Just Javi,” and you notice the crinkles around his eyes now.

“Javi,” you correct yourself, “baking is just a hobby, I could never sell anything.” 

“Well,” he licks his lips and starts packing an empty carton with a dozen, “how about you bring me something next week and I’ll be the judge of that?”

He’s stilling your hands as they reach for your coin purse and, Christ, he’s so warm. His touch is burning on your bare skin but it’s the most pleasant feeling in the world.

“Consider this an investment, Panaderita,” he’s gently placing the carton in the palms he’s turned in his own, “next week. Same time, same place.” 

You nod, dumbstruck under his blazing hot gaze, “Same time, same place.” 

TAGLIST: I'm not gonna tag my regular babies in this just yet but if you'd like to be added to the list for this story, pls send me an ask and let me know if you want just this story or my master list in general. 

[miraculous-rewrite]

Miraculous Rewrite- The Heist

Heist time baybee

We start on a darkened room, a single soft yellow light illuminating a single table from above. The tip of Rena’s flute comes into the light- “Mirage.” A simulation of Agreste manor, complete with assumed maps of the underground path that leads to the (formerly) Hawkmoth lair, appears on the table.

Rena walks into the light properly and gives the simulation a small spin, watching it rotate like a hologram in those science fiction movies. Another hand stops the rotation, quickly panning out to reveal Pegasus, quickly tapping a few tunnels and paths. “Here and here”

“You’ve already scouted them out?”

“Yes. The only person left in the manor who's properly aware of the pathways is Miss Sancour, and she likely wasn’t paying much attention to them when M. Agreste showed her the ins and outs on the lair. And she certainly wouldn’t be thinking about them right now.”

“They already have a feeling we’re going to try and do this eventually, so what’s to stop them from being prepared for us?”

“They’ll expect a full frontal assault, they’ll expect said assault to be a distraction.” Pegasus pushes his glasses further up his nose. “They’ll expect us to use everyone in our team. The untrained, the rusty, those we have on reserve for no reason other than to ensure the Miraculous are more difficult to find than before.”

“They’ll have expected that M. Agreste will have told us everything, that Sun Min will have told us everything. We have on them numbers, force, and creativity. And all they have is experience.”

“So basically they know everything we’ve got too.”

“More or less. However-”

“They expect us to pull out all the stops and have prepared for that-”

“But not for a smaller team.”

“Hooo boy Max, you’re going crazier than I did.”

The lights turn on and they’re shown to not even be in the base they’re in Alya’s room, and the twins rush in asking for a snack. Alya detransforms, but when she looks up, Max is gone. As if he was never there.

Cue intro

When we come back we come back to the base, showing of course, Alya taking down the heist wall, piece by piece, as the other members of the team start to filter in there are different responses to the action, but most of them spell out concern and shock.

“Tonight.” Alya states simply. Max is beside her of course, but takes then to walk over to the computer system, clicking a few buttons until the schematics not dissimilar to the ones Alya made with Mirage come up on the TV screen. “We’re doing this tonight, people. It’s the weekend, no relatives are visiting any of us, and more importantly, we’ve got the potions back.” Alya nods at Chloe.

“So here’s the team: Ladybug, me, Pegasus, Carapace, and Roi are on extraction. Max will break it down for you guys. Chat, Ryuuko, you guys are on distraction. Call in as much backup as you need. Everyone else, you’re on standby. Be ready to be called in.

“Amber, Chloe, you guys are in charge, Carry on as you want to, but be ready. Sabrina, we all heard about your performance distracting your father last week, and it was absolutely beastmode, but we’re refraining from putting Duusuu back into the field for a while so she’s got a chance to rest so we’re gonna need you here. Max is with us so you need to man the computers, he’ll give you a crash course on the OS, can you handle that?”

We cut to Sabrina who looks a little lost, but nonetheless nods. Alya nods back before looking back around. “Rose, Juleka, You’re both still untrained, but you do need some sort of field experience, so keep up the guise that everything is normal, Bridget, Felix, take them on their first patrol. Give them a chance to get used to it before things start getting worse.”

“Alix, Luka, you guys are absolutely imperative. We’re gonna have a line open to your phone Luka, so if things start going tits up you can second chance us and walk us through getting out of there.” Alya pauses “We’re going into enemy territory with less manpower than we usually can call on in the hope that they won’t be expecting a smaller force. Things are…. Gonna be dangerous.” We cut to Alix as she’s addressed “Alix, I know that you hate being kept on the sidelines, but stay here. If things go south in a way Second Chance can’t fix, you’re gonna need to learn how to use Burrow real damn fast.” Alix looks down, brows furrowed, but nods.

“Okay.”

Sun Min is notably here, but remains unaddressed. We cut to a short reaction shot of him, taking a drink from a bottle and looking into the middle distance.

“Okay. So, everybody, make preparations. Whether we’re successful or not, things are about to get real. You said it before Marinette, they want a war? We’ll show them a war.”

“That’s not what I said.”

But nonetheless we cut away to night. We see a quick montage of characters getting ready, Rose and Juleka speaking quietly with Zhuu and Dynaa before transforming, Bridget and Felix both already transformed and leading them outside.

Sabrina sitting at the computer board with Max leaned in close, instructing her on this and that thing. Amber is also peering over the shoulder, but passes Sabrina an energy drink of some kind, which she accepts.

Chloe has just wrapped up a sparring round with Alix, and just as she’s putting away the training tonfa she looks over to see Luka, fully transformed and plucking at his Lyre nervously. On edge and clearly uninterested in wasting any time today. She walks over and sits beside him, leaning her head onto his shoulder.

But Max eventually pulls away from the computer, and despite them not wanting Duusuu in the field, her broach is pinned to Sabrina’s tie.

Max shares a nod with Amber, and Chloe shoots him a thumbs up. Max takes a deep breath and transforms. As he exits he passes by Sun Min who’s just entering. Sun Min catches his arm.

“Horse.”

“Lion?”

Sun Min takes a deep breath. “You and yours are absolutely insane.”

“Indeed. Is that all?”

“No.” Sun Min turns him to face him fully. “Stay alive. All of you. You might call yourself a ‘Miraculous taxi’ but you’re their only way out. You only have one voyage, don’t waste it on something stupid.” Max pauses and nods. Sun Min lets him go.

Sun Min huffs and fidgets with his buckle, Valoor peering over his shoulder as they properly enter the base main room. “Hey Rabbit, you still want a spar?”

But the time has come.

A specific manhole is pried up somewhere in Paris, the edge of Chat’s staff use as leverage, and Rena, Carapace, Roi Singe, and finally Pegasus descend. Ladybug lingers behind for a moment, turning to Chat And Ryuuko. “Be careful, okay? Don’t get possessed by the spirit of that thing you used to do and fling yourself into every danger, okay?” She gently cups Adrien’s cheek and he smiles and places a hand on her wrist.

“Don’t worry about me Milady” he grins and Ladybug kisses him quickly before turning to Kagami.

“And don’t you do anything stupid either, I don’t have to worry about you like I worry about him, but don’t overstretch yourself Kagami. You’re worth more than just another soldier in an army.” She does the same motion to Kagami whom huffs and smiles slightly up at her.

“I’ll ensure both of our safeties, and should trouble arise, I will swallow my pride and call for backup. Is that enough to quell your worries?” Ladybug huffs a quiet laugh and kisses her.

“You be careful too Ladybug.” Chat chimes in.

“I always am.” She smiles at them both before descending below.

The Yoyo slides open and the flashlight illuminates the gloom, all the current team is quiet and somber, even Kim is notably reserved as they begin to look for the passageway, Rena in the lead.

“So remind me what we’re looking for?” Carapace asks, voice barely over a whisper.

“A vent barely big enough for a human body, but definitely big enough for one. The grate looks to be in an ‘X’ Pattern since if it looked like a butterfly it would be too obvious.” Pegasus responds just as quietly.

The lot of them keep walking for just a bit longer, until Ladybug notices something glint off her flashlight. “Hey! Over here!” sure enough there’s a small air vent as described, looking just barely big enough for Roi to be able to get in.

“Okay, now we just wait for the signal.”

“What’s the signal?” the vent shakes and you hear the faint echo of Chat Noir shouting ‘Booyeah!’

“That is, come on.”

The grate pops open with a quick jab, it seems as though it was intended for quick release anyway, and the group descends.

We cut away to the outside of Agreste manor now, but ‘outside’ is a little loosely defined, as the doors have been broken down, as well as the gate. It seems the security system has stalled about halfway from fully descending, so Chat Noir and Ryuuko stand in the foyer. Intruder alarms ring but no internal security systems activate.

But a bunch of old people start stumbling out from their rooms from being awoken in the middle of the night. First one out, hair down and lowkey panicked, is Nathalie.

“A-.... Adrien? What are you doing here…”

“Nathalie, I’m really gonna need you to chill for a second here. Just need to-”

A spear zips through the air and impales itself just before Chat’s feet. “Wait for that. Having a nice night Scorpion? Miss Wolf keeping you company?”

“Can we get on with this?” Ryuuko huffs, taking out her sword and holding it up as a challenge. “We’re here for a duel.”

“Right. I’m tired of you squatters staying in my home, trying to kill me and my firiends, and getting old person smell all over my stuff. So! We’re invoking the right of Single Combat. If Ryuuko and I can beat all you jerks in two-v-two matchups then you find your own damn house to live in.”

“And if we won?” Wu Lian bites around a yawn, though fully transformed.

“If we win we get hold of the virtue of destruction. The Black Cat would be a valuable addition to our set.” Zhao Kai looks as though he wasn’t asleep at all, downing the last of a mug of tea.

“Wuzzal the yelling?” Hoàng Tuyến stumbles out, unlike the others completely unprepared, still in her pajamas and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “I was in the middle of a REM cycle, you absolute nightmares.”

“Two of the little ones have decided to go solo, my student.” Zhao Kai answers breezily. “They seem to think they could take all of us one by one on their own.

“Huh…. We’ve been kicking their butts every time we go out to fight what makes them think-”

“Hey!” Chat interrupts. “Where’s the Dolphin, he should be making a challenge here too!”

“Adrien-” Nathalie tries again. “Just go home, this isn’t worth the drama.”

“Nathalie stand back, this has nothing to do with you.”

“Adrien this has everything to do with me-”

But Chat cuts her off. “So what, are we not worth your full attention? Don’t you need the black cat for your fancy combo spell?”

“Chat they’re not going to take us seriously no matter what we do.” Ryuuko responds, almost robotically.

“You’re right. I guess there’s only one way to solve this then.” Chat takes out the staff and an energy shot, assumedly where a potion is being stored. “I guess the only other option is to take this whole damned house to the ground.”

“Indeed.”

Chat swings his staff around and slams it into one of the staircases before anyone can respond, shouting as loud as possible with the strike a ‘Booyeah!’ He tosses the energy shot into the air and Ryuuko catches it easily, downing it in a gulp and the purple potion, the dark potion for those of you paying attention, quickly zips through her form.

“Stormbreaker!” She vanishes into a far smaller than usual electrical current, zipping into a nearby outlet and quickly getting into the systems of the manor.

“Adrien don’t be foolish-” Nathalie takes a step forward but Chat Noir cuts her off with a growl.

“You know, Aunt Nath, I'm kinda getting tired of this whole thing myself. Maybe it’s not a bad thing to burn this place to the ground.” an electrical fire starts on one of the outlets. “I wonder how long it’ll take Ryuuko to find the systems keeping Mom in that living death.” Nathalie stiffens, and it’s clear the Old Order is watching her very carefully. “Maybe it’s time to accept what I did long ago, and lay her to rest.”

Bingo. Nathalie transforms, draws the cane and springs out.

“You Ungrateful little brat!” Adrien meets her cane easily, Nathalie isn’t as trained as Gabriel was in fighting, but she’s not a novice either.

It seems as though the Old Order is perfectly content in watching the two fight, Zhao Kai making notes about form and reflex, like some sort of sports commentator specifically for deathmatches. Hoàng Tuyến, in comparison, has settled onto the top of the stairwell in a seated position, her head leaning against the railing, clearly fighting off sleep.

Tsering Wan and Wu Lian are speaking quietly with eachother, before Wu Lian shrugs and they just watch the fight. Wu Lian stating quietly “Manabe can find the dragon and take care of her. She won’t be able to hold that lightning form forever.”

“Indeed.” Tsering Wan agrees, despite his anger earlier it seems that both of them are still plenty tired as well.

But it's then we cut to a new place the air vent we saw earlier, now inside it, as the team finally seems to reach the end of the pathway, Rena kicks the exit a few times before the inner door swings forward, letting the lot of them tumble out into the former Hawkmoth lair. The lot of them look around in the dim light, the near purple glow of the lights that came on against the surroundings.

“Well… we’re in.” Ladybug huffs before standing and brushing herself off. “Now M. Agreste said something about a porthole opening on the floor that he’d activate with a button nearby, so be careful, we don’t want to activate the Secret Supervillain Elevator early.”

Sure enough the kids are looking around once more but this time, the lot of them are very pointedly Not Noticing the Comatose Lady Pod in the room.

Ladybug takes a moment though, she walks up to the slumbering woman, the long since dead rose in her hand and how by contrast she still looks healthy. Just… unable to wake.

Ladybug places a hand on the pod and peers sadly up at the peaceful face. “All of this for you… I don’t know about you Mme Agreste but I wouldn't like to wake up with that on my conscience.”

“Does she even have a conscience anymore?” Carapace wonders quietly.

“Nino!”

“I’m just saying! You saw what happened after she spent so much time with Duusuu! It’s not THAT far out of it to think she lost whatever she had.”

“Nino, she's Adrien’s mom!”

“That in no way means she’s flawless. Adrien’s my best bud Marinette, we’ve gotta consider that maybe both of his parents are trash. It’s rough, s’pecially since he’s your boyfriend, but it’s necessary.”

Marinette humms. Thinks for a moment, and turns away “Anyway that porthole’s not gonna find itself.”

“Not unless Kim finds it like the beast he is!” Roi Singe loudly announces, and sure enough all eyes turn to Roi as he carefully seems to line himself up with the porthole. “Alright everybody, I thiiinnnkk my shoulders will fit through here but I dunno by how much, M. Agreste really only designed this place with himself in mind. So get in close.”

Sure enough everyone is only able to fit in very much crunched together, but they do fit in. Roi Singe twirls his staff once and thunks the end of it against the button, and sure enough the elevator activates and they all slide through.

For a moment the elevator shudders, and stops. A brief moment of panic runs through the lot of them until it starts back up again and a voice in a small speaker near the bottom of the platform whispers “Apologies, I got the wires mixed up.”

“You’re doing great Kagami.” Ladybug whispers from her position carefully perched on Roi’s shoulders. “How’s Adrien holding up?”

“He picked a fight with Miss Sancour and I've been starting small fires around the mansion to keep those ‘council’ people occupied. Also The Miracle Box is most likely being kept in M. Agreste’s safe in his office. But that’s a mechanical lock not an electrical one so I cannot help.”

“That’s fine, how much time do you have left?”

“With the Dark Potion, I believe I have about six minutes left out of the extended ten.”

“Okay, good. Make sure you’re near an exit when you turn back, and try to find the security cameras.”

“Noted.”

There’s a fizzling noise and the elevator returns to normal functioning, and soon enough a porthole opens above them all and they are finally deposited in Gabriel Agreste’s former office. It looks mostly untouched, save a few messed up stacks of papers and the portrait of Emilie being removed and tossed aside, revealing the safe in its proper form.

“Okay, Nino, this is why you’re here.”

Carapace steps away from the Roi pile and approaches the safe. “You guys know I'm not exactly known for breaking into things, right? I’m a law-abiding citizen with a little brother to look out for.”

“Yeah but you’ve got the best hearing out of all of us and- get the hell away from the safe you’re not gonna be breaking into it.” Carapace blinks. “Go by the door, keep an ear out, make sure nobody’s coming towards us.”

“Oh… Oh! Yeah got it babe.” Carapace instead strides toward the door and very gently creaks it open, just for the smallest sliver of an eye hole and mostly to hear. Rena takes a deep breath and strides toward the safe herself. “Roi cover me, if anyone gets past Carapace I need you to-”

“Uproar them to being a useless bundle?” Roi responds easily, a small flash of light dropping a little wind up toy into his hand. “No problem.”

Rena nods, and as Rena begins to get to work, Pegasus strides up to the computer system, beginning to tap away at it. Ladybug does a similar thing in covering Pegasus as the two kids begin to get to work.

But we cut away for a moment and back to the foyer of the manor. Adrien is still duking it out with Nathalie, but it seems that he’s starting to lose ground. Hoàng Tuyến has finally started waking up and is actively cheering Nathalie on, Zhao Kai has vanished, but one can see him in the background being taken away by one of the nameless council members, likely to help with one of the many distractions Kagami has been making.

There’s still no sign of Manabe.

“I can’t believe you’d say such heathless things about your own mother! What sort of child did they raise you into?!”

“One who can accept the truth for what it is! My mother is dead! And if she was revived because you and father wanted to play supervillains for a year just for her sake she’d never speak to either of you again!”

“You think I don't know my own sister?!”

“I think you might be selling her short, yeah!”

“This war has POISONED your mind Adrien!”

“No, it's messed with yours! This didn’t used to be a war! We didn’t want it to be! We’ve ONLY ever been fighting in defense!”

“Is that what you call this?! Your actions have consequences Adrien! You started this one!”

“You let a bunch of strangers stay in our house first! I just got picked by someone to clean up my father’s messes!”

As expected, Tsering Wan’s grip on the railing tightens, and Adrien peers at this out of the corner of his eye and smirks. “Really, when you think about it, even if the Old Order HAD had our Miracle Box from moment one they probably would have done the same thing! Father was clearly using a Miraculous, so they had like a sacred duty to steal it back no matter who was wielding it or if they were using it for good or not. That’s all this group ever wanted after all, right? Control? To hoard magical objects that could be doing the world so much good?

“They’re manipulating you Nathalie! They keep calling you smart and special and you are but they’re doing it to control you!”

“Enough!” Nathalie finally gets the upper hand and Adrien’s staff clatters to the ground, now Adrien’s running defense as Natahlie, more than a little affected by Nooroo’s emotion based powers, begins to go a little ballistic. Adrien is carefully dodging but just as it seems that a real hit is about to land an arc of lightning zips from a lamp and makes contact with the cane, electrifying it until Natahlie is forced to drop her weapon as well. The form re-solidifies enough to sweep her legs out from beneath her while distracted and re-from back into Ryuuko beside Chat.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. Three minutes by the way.”

“Not an issue. No more visitors?”

“Certainly not.”

“Good. Ready to bring the house down?”

“Not just yet… A little bit longer.”

Ryuuko draws her sword and Chat picks his staff back up.

“Back into it?” “Back into it.”

But we cut now, not to the heist, but to the Base, Sun Min is in the middle of fixing a cup of coffee, but when he looks up it’s to an extremely tense ‘Second Chance’ he looks up and Luka has his lyre propped up in front of him so he can have both hands on his miraculous at all times, nervously staring into the screen.

“Have they called for backup yet?”

“Not yet.” Luka mutters nervously. “But they… they’re gonna need it. Chess is getting ready.” Sun Min looks over his shoulder and sure enough Chloe is packing some of the practice weapons into her subspace as an obvious ‘just in case.’ In the same shot we see Amber has transformed as well and is nervously glancing between Chloe and Sabrina whom is still focused very intently on the screen, mumbling to herself about how these security systems were made by a crazy person, the Paris police department had an actual grid.

Sun Min hums and taps his head. “Tell her not to bother.”

“Huh?” But Sun Min is walking away, and we cut away. We cut back to whatever it is what caused Luka such distress.

And it’s the heist crew. We go back in time just a bit, Nino gasping and throwing up his shield, but he doesn’t have enough time to throw up Shelter when a harpoon slams against his shield and knocks him clean over.

And then the Dolphin is upon them.

Max and Alya currently can’t fight, as they’re focusing on what they are, so this fight is Roi Singe, Ladybug, and Carapace, versus the Dolphin. As asked, Roi immediately tosses the wind up toy at the Dolphin, and while nothing on him transforms, the golden energy of the Sabotage encoumpases him for a second and he instead hefts his harpoon and begins to handle it more like a blade. “So that’s how we’re playing it tonight? Very well, children.”

“I can play games too.”

Remember that fight back during the Dolphin’s intro episode? How it seemed like the heroes present were able to fight him to a standstill pretty easily?

Yeah…. He was holding back.

It seems like the others are surprised at this as well, Carapace in many situations having to run interference just to keep Roi or Ladybug from getting skewered, the lot of them are barely able to keep the Dolphin from angling himself toward either Rena or Pegasus and go at one of their friends. Though the blade of the harpoon doesn’t pierce flesh it doesn’t need to, as Manabe Izumi is quick enough to be able to land blows with other less deadly methods, a knee in the stomach, a loose fist in the solar plexus, an elbow to the back. Nobody’s seriously hurt, yet. Yet.

“We need backup.” Rena whispers into her flute very carefully, but just as Manabe turns to her Roi gets in the way, and this time, the blade pierces flesh, not much, it just drives into his upper arm, but everyone at this point has started to have a small pavlovian response to Kim getting hurt. And they all begin to go into overdrive, Max very rapidly doing his work on the computer, suddenly very desperate to get into the fight, Marinette foregoing yoyo defense and socking Manabe square in the jaw, and similar such things. But that in no way means that they’re winning.

Manabe is still holding ground easily, but seems uninterested in calling for backup on his own, spinning his harpoon and this time purposefully throwing it-

At Pegasus. Pegasus reaches for his boomerang, but he’s clearly not fast enough, it’s about to land and nobody else is nearby-

And a goldenrod flash comes out, a brown gloved hand trimmed with fur along the wrist catches the harpoon a few feet away from Max’s face.

“I said keep yourself safe, Horse. How is this ‘safe’?” Sun Min huffs, turning the harpoon over in his hands, before breaking it over his knee.

“....Sun Min.”

“Manabe Sensei.” Sun Min huffs, pulling out his brass knuckles. “But… to tell the truth, if I’m gonna be playing heroes with the kids, I might as well have a hero name, huh? Can’t just be running around being called ‘Sun Min.’ That's an identity issue or something.”

Sun Min stretches and fluffs his collar. “So… I’ve been thinking, Lionheart sounds nice, doesn't it?” He crouches down and slams his fists into the ground, a small crater beneath his hands. “And I guess that means I should call you ‘Dolphin’ now, huh?”

Manabe looks at Lionheart, then at the others, and shakes his head. “‘You’re too nice to people who don't deserve it, Manabe’ ‘You’re such a little shounen protag, Manabe’ since when was I the one who had to tell someone they were going too far?”

“If you want to fight me I should remind you that Master Wan fought me before and I held my own.”

Manabe sighs. “I don’t want to fight you. But I can’t let you take what is ours.”

“Fine. Get out of here guys. We’re not breaking the bank today.”

“I’m almost there!” Rena shouts.

“Fox! You will die even if nobody was gunning for you!”

An alert goes off on the whole team’s communicators. “Chat’s 30 second warning, we gotta move!” Roi announces, running over to Pegasus and hefting him over his shoulder. “You got it?”

“Yes It should be in order.”

“‘Pace!”

“Everyone get close!” the whole team crowds around Carapace as Manabe watches in confusion, Sun Min steps aside just as Carapace calls out ‘Shelter’

“Lionheart!” Ladybug calls out from one side of the shell, Sun Min winks and with some small struggle pushes the shellter to get it rolling, until it bashes right through the wall.

Just in time because we clip back to Chat one final time, being tossed another ‘potion disguised as an energy shot’ from Kagami, downing it in a single gulp, and when he summons cataclysm it’s far closer to the rampant destruction Plagg can do when alone.

He slams his hand to the ground and then the entire mansion begins to rumble and crack. “Ryuuko? How long you got left?”

“Last scale.”

“Make it count.”

“Stormbringer!” Kagami vanishes into the wind, less strong as was her lightning form, but she sweeps the crumbling mansion into a whirlwind, turning visibility down to Zero, Nathalie peeks into the blur and sees the silhouette of her nephew vanish in the din.

“Dispell!” a silver slug zips through the wind, but it’s too late, the mansion is coming down.

The Shelter sphere rolls harmlessly down off the property and into the empty street as the mansion cracks and crumbles, Ladybug crowds close to the edge and watches Lionheart and Manabe begin to battle as the rubble falls around them.

We see a short clip of the Hawkmoth lair, and there’s a small rumble, there’s a beeping noise on the edge of the pod, but it remains untouched.

And we see Chat Noir pole vault just barely out of the way of the decimation, Kagami detransforming while still in the wind form and Chat catching her from falling.

Shelter goes down-

And Paris is quiet again.

The sun rises.

It’s implied to be at least a few hours later as a bubblegum pink cat squeezes its way through the rubble, it turns back into Hogwild and she reports she can’t find any signs of any bodies. Looks like Wu Lian did act fast enough to get everybody out even if they couldn’t stop the place from coming down.

Bloodhound is currently patching up a pretty badly bruised Lionheart. Felix claims that it's a damn miracle nobody died. A sort of wry grin on his face he asks if Luka had to use Second Chance too many times or not, to which Luka laughs slightly and corrects him, actually none. Semmix is standing off to the side, rubbing a wrist and looking pensive, maybe something about this mission and the very real possibility that it could have been her first Burrow if everything went horribly wrong isn’t sitting quite right with her.

Finally we see Bellflower with her Swarm active, the busy bees sorting through the rubble looking for something else in particular. “They took the box, I don’t know how but they got to the box and got out of here before we were able to get here.”

Cheshire swears harshly from where she was, currently patching up Kim’s arm. “Are you kidding me?! A Whole mansion coming down wasn’t enough to keep their grubby hands off our box?! This is Bullshit!”

The rest of Team Miraculous had been sitting quietly, pondering over the events. Chat looks, kind of upset at having to actually follow through on destroying his home.

But a small voice pipes up. “Who needs that ratty old box anyway? I’d call this heist a success!” When all eyes turn to what look to be the rooster ring and the ram hairclips scooting by themselves from beneath a piece of rubble, and-

“Re-Fuse!” Nimh shuffles back to her normal height, holding both Miraculous in her hands, Orikko and Durro suddenly summoned by her sides.

“They expected one distraction, one extraction.” Nimh huffs.

“They expected us to not have any idea what we were doing beyond what we’ve seen in movies.” Pegasus leans back and grins wearily.

“They expected me to be able to crack that lock on my own.” Rena continues, and we see for a moment a quick flashback, where during the fight with Manabe, Rena while we assume was working on the safe, in fact opened a hand and pulled two of Nimh’s mini clones out and they scurried into the safe through the cracks.

“They expected none of us to be old enough to have our bodies be able to handle wielding the power for a longer time than the safety limit.” Bloodhound finishes. “Everybody give a hand to Bridget for being an early bloomer.”

Nimh bows to scattered applause and approaches Ladybug, dropping the two Miraculous into her hands. “A box is a box, we can make another one.” Ladybug confirms.

“Team Miraculous, I’d call this heist an uproaring success.”

A cheer goes up.

[kakitysax]

In my school, which is a therapeutic school for mostly people in or graduating out of their residential, the kids with really fucked up pasts scream and cuss us out, run from the elementary wing to our hallway (12th grade & even-specialer-ed) to dive into our classroom and hit people and break all our projects, still screaming the whole time. I felt a similar way about them, why can't you internalize like we had to? Why must you hurt others instead of yourself? So I don't blame you at all for how you feel, little kids can be dastardly little shits and I don't see you actually trying to traumatize them. But the traumatized ones aren't necessarily less obnoxious. There's no fixing it.

Uuuuugh (abt loud destructive people, not you)

/gen bestie thanks for telling me that. I was really worried about my logic that trauma makes people more considerate and kind, wondering if it made me a bad person to think that. So it is SUPER super helpful to hear logically that trauma doesn’t improve people. I was beginning to wonder if the whole “stop saying your trauma made you a better person” thing was just a way to deny that people deserve to be hurt. 

...damn that looks WAY more fucked up put into words. 

I didn’t like it!!! I was really discouraged to think that I might have deserved or needed to be hurt like I was. I still am; I still do. (Intrusive beliefs don’t go away overnight.)

So to hear this is huge and helpful. Reading it kind of made me do the brain thing where new information happens and you’re like “oh” and you go do something else and then it starts to click and sink in and you go back and reread it like “ooooh.” Something in my brain latched onto this and dug in.

I think I was downplaying my own kids’ trauma and neurodivergence for the sake of my shitty point. I’m at a charter school, which often end up being therapeutic schools for impoverished people. The place where kids who get expelled from public schools go. When I came in I was expecting maybe 1/5th of them to be neurodivergent and 1/3 of them to be traumatized somehow. But it’s the other way around. 2/3rds traumatized, 4/5ths neurodivergent. With overlap between the two. And we’re unable to give these kids a fraction of what they need because we were not intended for kids like this.

I don’t really know why it clicked hearing it from you. It just did. I was being hard on the kids in my head because most of them are a lot like me and yet they’re so. Destructive, and cruel. Both of which are things I try very hard not to be because I know how much it hurts to be around people like that.

Maybe it’s that you go to a school actually intended for young people like us, and them, but are not like that yourself. What you described sounded VERBATIM like what these kids do. It was uncanny. So to know that it’s a profile for a certain kind of trauma is. Weirdly reassuring.

Now I know it’s not about trauma vs non-trauma; it’s about the kind of trauma, and who people are and what they learn and how they grow. Nuance baybee.

And now that I think about it, it wasn’t my trauma that made me a good person or my boyfriend a good person. It was our healing.

[subtract-me-from-your-heart]

Hey all, and welcome to another episode of Sin Eats! Hopefully these will start to be a little more regular. Jay and I need to get back on track with healthier eating, and also quit ordering so much takeout, because that shit is expensive.

Today, Jay is finally going to try the recipe we've been talking about trying for over a month now.

TikTok Tofu

Although I am An Old, I do enjoy the time suck that is TikTok. And one of the things I really like are all of the recipes! I often get Japanese and Korean people cooking on my fyp, and I can't tell you how many recipes I've seen that I want (Jay) to try.

This one is from a TikTok by fujicochan (link here). Although Jay and I have an elementary-level understanding of Japanese, most of this will probably be based on visual interpretation and general guesswork. Can't wait.

Ingredients

1 pkg firm tofu

2 eggs

18g (1 Tbsp) red miso paste

6 oz frozen shrimp (about 10 shrimps)

85g frozen broccoli

40g (~1/4 c) mozzarella cheese

15ml (1 Tbsp) Aji-Mirin

45g (3 Tbsp) Mayonnaise (Japanese mayo would be the best, but we just used Miracle Whip honestly. Any port in a storm, my friends.)

Instructions

While you’re at therapy, have your lazy ass partner prep the tofu. Remove the tofu block from the package and wrap it in some paper towels. Place it between two plates and squish it down. Add a couple of heavy cans or a brick or whatever you have that’s handy (I found cats don’t work too well as they don’t want to stay in place) on top of the top plate to weigh it down. Let gravity do its thing for around 30 minutes, and it’ll squeeze out a good deal of the moisture.

Preheat the oven to 350°F (176°C).

Mis en place baybee! Crack your eggs into a small to medium-sized bowl and add the miso and mirin. Whisk together until smooth (or as smooth as you’re willing to make it). You can add a little warm or hot water to the miso and mix it up prior to adding it to the eggs to make it smoother. It doesn’t take a lot. Maybe a tablespoon or so.

Add tofu to the egg mixture and break it up with your whisk.

Grease a glass baking dish (Jay used the spray kind) and dump it all in. Double check your work breaking up the tofu and spread the mixture out in the pan so it’s all fairly even. Take a moment to complain about your poor spacial relations. It’s fine. Just do the best you can.

If you were smart and thawed your shrimp out the night before, good for you. However, if you also have ADHD, throw the shrimp into a colander and run cold water over them for a couple of minutes to thaw them out some.

Remove the tails from the shrimp and spread them out on top of the tofu mixture. Add a little pepper if you’re feeling fancy.

Add your broccoli to a bowl and cover with plastic wrap. Microwave for about a minute just to thaw it and soften it up a bit. The words, “Eh, it’s mostly thawed” and “it’s just a little frozen” did come out of Jay’s mouth, so I guess don’t worry about being too precise.

Cut broccoli into smaller pieces if needed and add to the top.

Sprinkle mozzarella on top.

Add the mayonnaise. If you can put it in a squeeze bottle, that’s great. Otherwise, just try to spread it out as best you can. Curse yourself for being lazy and not wanting to drive all the way to the H-Mart to get the good Japanese mayo. Ask yourself why you didn’t just order it from the Great Evil that is Amazon. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

Bake uncovered for twenty minutes. The lady who posted the recipe on TikTo literally said she didn’t remember how long she baked it, so we’re just winging it here.

Turn on your broiler (ours defaults to like 500°) and broil for an additional 2 minutes. You can go a little longer if you want your cheese to brown.

Serve up and enjoy! Jay added some gochujang to his.

Really delicious! Next time Jay said he'll probably marinate the tofu to add a little more flavor. It turned out kinda bland for our tastes.

[saintandsinnerwrites]

rosenali canon compliant hooking up in chicago? last night was the perfect fodder for that

A/N: Whenever I see canon compliant I assume there’s still some leeway. Like in this verse they’re both single and uh ready to mingle.

Also I used to live in Chicago so of course I had to take this one.

xoxo -Sinner

-

“¡¡¡Mi Rosita!!! I can’t believe you’re finally here!!” Denali hugged her Rosie as they waited for their Uber back to Nali’s place, both of them drunk and jubilant at their reunion. They’d gone first to Denali’s drag mom’s show and then Denali’s own, and Rosie had been right there in front, all heart eyes as she watched and Denali loved it.

Rosie hugged her back just as tightly. “I missed you so much baybee. Glad I get to spend my birthday weekend with you.”

“Oh we’re gonna get so trashed this weekend.”

Rosé laughed. “I thought I was an alcoholic. These Midwestern cities sure know how to drink.”

Denali laughed. “We just like to have a good time.”

“Baybee. You’re always a good time.” She grinned.

Denali smirked right back. “Oh yeah? Get in the Uber,” she indicated the car pulling up. “And I’ll show you what a good time I am.” She waggled her brows.

“In the Uber mama? Kinky.”

“Oh my god no! You’re so dumb. I don’t know why I like you so much.”

Rosé smirked. “You love me.” She held Denali’s hand and rubbed her thumb over the back of Denali’s hand. The drive to her apartment wasn’t too far, but Rosie used every second to shamelessly flirt with Denali, knowing full well Denali was going to give it to her when they got home.

Denali didn’t disappoint her Rosie, pinning her to the wall the second they closed her apartment door behind them.

“You’re so annoying,” she told her Rosie.

Shamelessly, Rosie smirked back at her. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

She ran her nails down Rosie’s chest. “I’m gonna strip you naked and top the fuck out of you.”

Rosie kissed her. “My... hole is ready.”

Denali laughed. “You still can’t say hole?” Hole! Hole! I love hole.”

“You love my hole, that’s for sure,” she laughed. “C’mon, come love in my hole.”