#and to be fair he does immediately egg on the idea of romance between them asking bad about the statue and whatnot

[zeb-z]

fave moment of the day was cellbit dealing with literally everything all at once - richas painting mystery, federation nonsense and other mysterious circumstances attached to that, whatever is going on with what happened in the nether, luzu’s computers reappearing and trying to triangulate something from their location, and bad pulling him aside to talk to just him about something incredibly important, so cellbit is ready for another issue, another puzzle, or something relevant to the cases at hand - only for bad to just be like ‘I just wanted forever to see us and get jealous. I haven’t seen him all day so I’m giving him a taste of his own medicine. do you think he’ll get jealous?’ and cellbit just

[lokiondisneyplus]

A review of “Journey Into Mystery,” the penultimate Loki Season One episode on Disney+, coming up just as soon as I paper cut a giant cloud to death…

Journey Into Mystery was the title of the first Marvel comic to feature either Thor or Loki. It began as an anthology series featuring monsters and aliens, but Jack Kirby, Stan Lee, and Larry Lieber were so smitten with their adaptation of the characters of Norse myth that the Asgardians gradually took over the whole book, which was renamed after its hammer-wielding hero(*).

(*) The early Journey Into Mystery stories treated Thor’s alter ego, disabled Dr. Donald Blake, as the “real” character, while Thor was just someone Blake could magically transform into, while retaining his memories and personality. It wasn’t even clear whether Asgard itself was meant to exist at first, until Loki turned up on Earth in an early issue, caused trouble, and Blake/Thor somehow knew exactly how to get to Asgard to drop him off. Soon, the lines between Thor and Blake began to blur, and eventually Thor became the real guy, and Blake a fiction invented by Odin to humble his arrogant son. It’s a mark of just how instantly charismatic Loki was that the entire title quickly steered towards him and the other gods.

But once upon a time, anything was possible in Journey Into Mystery, which makes it an apt moniker for an absolutely wonderful episode of Loki where the same holds true. Our title characters are trapped in the Void, a place at the end of time where the TVA’s victims are banished to be devoured by a cloud monster named Alioth. And mostly they are surrounded by the wreckage of many dead timelines. Classic Loki insists that his group’s only goal is survival, and any kind of planning and scheming is doomed to kill the Loki who tries. But this ruined, hopeless world instead feels bursting with imagination and possibility.

There are the many Loki variants we see, with President Loki, among others, joining Classic, Kid, Boastful, and Alligator Loki. There are the metric ton of Easter Eggs just waiting to be screencapped by Marvel obsessives (I discuss a few of them down below), but which still suggest a much larger and weirder MCU even if you don’t immediately scream out “Is that… THROG?!?!?” at the appropriate moment. And all of that stuff is tons of fun, to be sure. But what makes this episode — and, increasingly, this series — feel so special is the way that it explores the untapped potential of Loki himself, in his many, many variations.

This is an episode that owes more than a small stylistic and thematic debt to Lost. It’s not just that Alioth looks and sounds so much like the Smoke Monster(*), that it makes a shared Wizard of Oz reference to “the man behind the curtain” (also the title of one of the very best Lost episodes), or even that the core group of Lokis are hiding in a bunker accessible via a hatch and a ladder that’s filled with recreational equipment (in this case, bowling alley lanes). It’s also that Loki, Sylvie, their counterparts, and Mobius have all been transported to a strange place that has disturbing echoes from their own lives, that operates according to strange new rules they have to learn while fleeing danger, and their presence there allows them to reflect on the many mistakes of their past and consider whether they want to, or can, transcend them.

(*) Yes, Alioth technically predates Smokey by a decade (see the notes below for more), but his look has been tweaked a bit here to seem more like smoke than a cloud, and the sounds he makes when he roars sound a lot like Smokey’s telltale taxi cab meter clicks. Given the other Lost hat tips in the episode, I have to believe Alioth was chosen specifically to evoke Smokey.

Classic Loki is aptly named. He wears the Sixties Jack Kirby costume, and he is a far more powerful magician than either Sylvie or our Loki have allowed themselves to be. He calls our Loki’s knives worthless compared to his sorcery, which feels like the show acknowledging that the movies depowered Loki a fair amount to make him seem cooler. But if Classic Loki can conjure up illusions bigger and more potent than his younger peers, he is a fundamentally weak and defeated man, convinced, like the others, that the only way to win the game into which he was born is not to play. “We cannot change,” he insists. “We’re broken. Every version of ourselves. Forever.” It is not only his sentiment — Kid Loki adds that any Loki who tries to improve inevitably winds up in the Void for their troubles — but it seems to have weighed on him longer and harder than most.

But Classic Loki takes inspiration from Loki and Sylvie to stand and fight rather than turn and run, magicking up a vision of their homeland to distract Alioth at a crucial moment in Sylvie’s plan, and getting eaten for his trouble. He was wrong: Lokis can change. (Though Kid Loki might once again argue that Classic Loki’s death is more evidence that the universe has no interest in any of them doing so.) And both Loki and Sylvie have been changing throughout their time together. Like most Lokis, they seem cursed to a life of loneliness. Sylvie learned as a child that a higher power believed she should not exist, and has spent a lifetime hiding out in places where any friends she might make will soon die in an apocalypse. Our Loki’s past isn’t quite so stark, but the knowledge that his birth father abandoned him, while his adoptive father never much liked him, have left permanent scars that govern a lot of his behavior. The defining element of Classic Loki’s backstory is that he spent a long time alone on a planet, and only got busted by the TVA when he attempted to reconnect with his brother and anyone else he once knew. This is a hard existence, for all of them. And while it does not forgive them their many sins(*), it helps contextualize them, and give them the knowledge to try to be better versions of themselves.

(*) Loki at one point even acknowledges that, for him, it’s probably only been a few days since he led an alien invasion of New York that left many dead, though due to TVA shenanigans, far more time may have passed.

For that matter, Mobius is not the stainless hero he once thought of himself as. While he and Sylvie are tooling around the Void in a pizza delivery car (because of course they are), he admits that he committed a lot of sins by believing that the ends justified the means, and was wrong. He doesn’t know who he is before the TVA stole and factory rebooted him, but he knows that he wants something better for himself and the universe, and takes the stolen TemPad to open up a portal to his own workplace in hopes of tearing down the TVA once and for all. Before he goes, though, he and Loki share a hug that feels a lot more poignant than it should, given that these characters have only spent parts of four episodes of TV together. It’s a testament to Hiddleston, Wilson, Waldron, and company (Tom Kauffman wrote this week’s script) that their friendship felt so alive and important in such a short amount of time.

The same can be said for Loki and Sylvie’s relationship, however we’re choosing to define it. Though they briefly cuddle together under a blanket that Loki conjures, they move no closer to romance than they were already. If anything, Mobius’ accusations of narcissism in last week’s episode seem to have made both of them pull back a bit from where they seemed to be heading back on Lamentis. But the connection between them is real, whatever exactly it is. And their ability to take down Alioth — to tap into the magic that Classic Loki always had, and to fulfill Loki’s belief that “I think we’re stronger than we realize” — by working together is inspiring and joyful. Without all this nuanced and engaging character work, Loki would still be an entertaining ride, but it’s the marriage of wild ideas with the human element that’s made it so great.

Of course, now comes the hard part. Endings have rarely been an MCU strength, give or take something like the climax of Endgame, and the finales of the two previous Disney+ shows were easily their weakest episodes. The strange, glorious, beautiful machine that Waldron and Herron have built doesn’t seem like it’s heading for another generic hero/villain slugfest, but then, neither did WandaVision before we got exactly that. This one feels different so far, though. The command of the story, the characters, and the tone are incredibly strong right now. There is a mystery to be solved about who is in the big castle beyond the Void (another Loki makes the most narrative and thematic sense to me, but we’ll see), and a lot to be resolved about what happens to the TVA and our heroes. And maybe there’s some heavy lifting that has to be done in service to the upcoming Dr. Strange or Ant-Man films.

It’s complicated, but on a show that has handled complexity well. Though even if the finale winds up keeping things simpler, that might work. As Loki notes while discussing his initial plan to take down Alioth, “Just because it’s not complicated doesn’t mean it’s bad.” Though as Kid Loki retorts, “It also doesn’t mean it’s good.”

Please be good, Loki finale. Everything up to this point deserves that.

Some other thoughts:

* Most of this week’s most interesting material happens in the Void. But the scenes back at the TVA clarify a few things. First, Ravonna is not the mastermind of all this, and she was very much suckered in by the Time-Keeper robots. But unlike Mobius or Hunter B-15, she’s so conditioned to the mission that even knowing it’s a lie hasn’t really swayed her from her mission. She has Miss Minutes (who herself is much craftier this week) looking into files about the creation of the TVA, but for the most part comes across as someone very happy with a status quo where she gets to be special and pass judgment on the rest of the multiverse.

* Alioth first appeared in 1993’s Avengers: The Terminatrix Objective, a miniseries (written by Mobius inspiration Mark Gruenwald, and with some extremely kewl Nineties art full of shoulder pads, studded collars, and the like) involving Ravonna, Kang, and the off-brand versions of Captain America, Iron Man, and Thor (aka U.S. Agent, War Machine, and Thunderstrike, the latter of whom has yet to appear in the MCU). It’s a sequel to a Nineties crossover event called Citizen Kang. And no, I still don’t buy that Kang will be the one pulling the strings here, if only because it’s really bad storytelling for the big bad of the season to have never appeared or even been mentioned prior to the finale.

* Rather than try to identify every Easter egg visible in the Void’s terrain, I’ll instead highlight three of the most interesting. Right before the Lokis arrive at the hatch, we see a helicopter with Thanos’ name on it. This is a hat tip to an infamous — and often memed — out-of-continuity story where Thanos flies this chopper while trying to steal the Cosmic Cube (aka the Tesseract) from Hellcat. (A little kid gets his hands on it instead and, of course, uses the Cube to conjure up free ice cream.) James Gunn has been agitating for years for the Thanos Copter to be in the MCU. He finally got his wish.

* The other funny one: When the camera pans down the tunnel into Kid Loki’s headquarters, we see Mjolnir buried in the ground, and right below it is a jar containing a very annoyed frog in a Thor costume. This is either Thor himself — whom Loki cursed into amphibianhood in a memorable Walt Simonson storyline — or another character named Simon Walterston (note the backwards tribute to Walt) who later assumed the tiny mantle.

* Also, in one scene you can spot Yellowjacket’s helmet littering the landscape. This might support the theory that the TVA, the Void, etc., all exist in the Quantum Realm, since that’s where the MCU version of Yellowjacket probably went when his suit shorted out and he was crushed to subatomic size. Or it might be more trolling of the fanbase from the company that had WandaVision fans convinced that Mephisto, the X-Men, and/or Reed Richards would be appearing by the season finale.

* Honestly, I would have watched an entire episode that was just Loki, Mobius, and the others arguing about whether Alligator Loki was actually a Loki, or just a gator who ended up with the crown, presumably after eating a real Loki. The suggestion that the gator might be lying — and that this actually supports, rather than undermines, the case for him being a Loki — was just delightful. And hey, if Throg exists in the MCU now, why not Alligator Loki?

* Finally, the MCU films in general are not exactly known for their visual flair, though a few directors like Taika Waititi and Ryan Coogler have been able to craft distinctive images within the franchise’s usual template. Loki, though, is so often wonderful to look at, and particularly when our heroes are stuck in strange environments like Lamentis or the Void. Director Kate Herron and the VFX team work very well together to create dynamic and weird imagery like Sylvie running from Alioth, or the chaotic Loki battle in the bowling alley. Between this show and WandaVision, it appears the Disney+ corner of the MCU has a bit more room to expand its palette. (Falcon and the Winter Soldier, much less so.)

[erin-bo-berin]

Soulmates

So, I’ve finally returned after a break for the holidays. I immediately had this idea after watching the season 15 premiere (although I’ve seen some other people write about it too so obviously it’s a common subject), I wanted to make the Jeid situation even more complicated in this between Spencer, JJ and the reader. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: Mature (smut)

Word Count: 5,306

How is it that someone that makes you so happy can also make you so incredibly sad? 

The thought floats through your mind as you play with the food on your plate. 

It was Friday. You and your best friend’s weekly Chinese takeout night. Usually, the two of you would pig out on all your favorite Chinese dishes, binge watch something on Netflix and just hang out after a long week. Tonight was different. Although it had been for some time.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

You look up at Spencer. His usual happy face is filled with fatigue and sadness. He hadn’t been his usual self for a while and you knew it, though you tried not to broach the subject—for many reasons.

“Not really. Long day,” you fibbed, pushing the plate to the side.

“I know the feeling,” he sighed, taking a small bite.

You studied him, noticing that he looked even more tired than when you first met up earlier that evening. He looked drained, in fact.

“Tough case?”

You were used to hearing about cases that left wear and tear on your best friend. Being an FBI Agent in a specific unit dedicated to studying, analyzing and dealing with serial killers, it took a toll on Spencer.

“Actually, JJ and I finally talked.”

You felt your stomach drop at the words, the dread of what he was going to say next causing a white noise to block out your hearing as if it could block out his next words. This was the last thing you wanted to hear about, but you wouldn’t dare tell Spencer that. You would do anything for him, even if it meant listening to this again.

It had been a topic of conversation between the two of you for over six months. Well more or less Spencer talking, you listening and attempting to give advice. 

“Oh? What did she say?”

You tried to swallow down the sense of dread as you took another bite of egg roll. For once, you didn’t enjoy the taste of the flaky, deep fried side.

Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. It had been hard on him, this last six months. Not only had JJ—his best friend of 15 years—confess that she actually loved him and always did, but then neither one of them knew how to talk about it, so they just kind of stopped talking altogether. Things had been awkward between them and Spencer had no idea how to process the information because JJ has a husband and two kids, who he adores. 

As if things couldn’t get any more complicated, you just happened to be in love with Spencer too. That, though, he doesn’t know.

So basically you’re in love with your best friend who’s in love with his other best friend who loves him but is also married. Couldn’t be more simple, right?

You mentally groan at the thought. Your life has basically become a soap opera.

You have nothing against JJ. She’s pretty and super sweet and always has been welcoming to you the few times you’ve met her. She once joked that besides his mother, you and her were Spencer’s biggest fans. If only she knew.

At the same time, you can’t help but feel jealous because of her being so pretty and sweet. It’s no wonder Spencer has had feelings for her for years and of course you can’t blame her for loving Spencer either. You know how much he loves her kids—aka his godsons—and thinks that her husband Will is great for her. Spencer would always sacrifice his happiness for anyone else, especially for the ones he loves.

Even though it’s at a point where you know it won’t happen, you still feel a deep rooted envy at the fact that they share a bond and a love that you couldn’t even fathom having with Spencer yourself. 

“Oh? What did she say?”

As hard as it is to listen to it, you’re concerned about him. He’s beaten himself up wondering what could’ve been, had he made the right choices. He even asked you if you thought he was living the right life. You couldn’t tell him that though, that’s only something he can answer himself.

“That she would’ve never told me if it hadn’t been for the circumstances.”

You nod, remembering how they’d been taken hostage by an unsub who seemed to have a truth or dare fetish. When asked, JJ opted for truth and the unsub wanted to hear her deepest, darkest secret or else she would die. Unfortunately, that’s what tumbled out and they’d been living with the damage of it since.

“But she never wanted to lie to me. She said she meant it. That...that I was-” he pauses, taking a deep breath as if he needs the extra strength to continue.

“That I was her first love and always will be.”

You flinch a bit at the words. That had to hurt. Oddly enough, you start to feel yourself become resigned towards the situation. 

“Are you okay?”

He nods before continuing.

“Also that she also loves Will and the boys too. Basically it’s like in another universe maybe it could have happened, but it won’t in this one.”

Your heart hurts so badly. Not from your own hurt, but from seeing him suffer. You know he’s hurting and feels lost and you can’t help but feel guilty knowing how much hatred you’ve had towards the entire situation, even if it was only internally.

“Will you guys be alright?”

He nods again.

“She’s my best friend and she’s happy. She deserves to be happy.”

“And what about you? Don’t you deserve to be happy?”

“No.”

Your fork clangs on your plate, surprised as his negativity.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t deserve to be happy, Y/N,” he answers, looking at you dead on, his unhappiness seeping from every inch of him.

“Of course you do. That’s not fair to you.”

“Nor is it to anyone else when I can’t move on from JJ. All I’ve ever wanted was JJ.”

The rest of the night was uncharacteristically quiet after that and you parted ways much earlier than you usually did. 

You had no idea where to go from here. You wanted to help him, be there for him but was it worth it when it constantly left you heartsick and worn? You didn’t have the answer to that.

It was like the situation between him and JJ. Just one of those complicated things.

•

Eight weeks after that one failed Chinese night, everything fell apart. 

Work had been busier than usual for Spencer, often resulting in his cancelling plans with you. 

Your work had been less busy, unfortunately giving you more time to dwell on your internalized feelings, even though you hated yourself for feeling such way. But you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking of all the time Spencer was around JJ. Regardless or not of him acting on his feelings, being around that person so much was only going to cause those feelings to linger.

You grumble to yourself as you force yourself to concentrate on your workload. Thinking these things are only gonna make you more miserable, regardless if you can’t help them.

To make matters worse, you’ve started to avoid Spencer. All you want to do is to see him, but when he’s actually free, you come up with an excuse why you can’t hang out.

As if reading your mind, your phone buzzes next to you on your desk and you glance over to see a text from Spencer.

Coffee after work tonight? I miss you. 

If you were to admit it to yourself, you missed him too. A lot. But you also missed how things used to be, before the complicated situation with JJ and if you were honest, before you realized you were in love with him. Things were so much simpler then.

Can’t. Sorry. Already have plans.

You watch the three gray dots appear on the screen, indicating his typing and watch them for a long moment before they disappear. No new message appeared and you sigh, setting your phone back down and pushing him as far from your mind as you can.

•

You’re on your couch later that night watching some sappy romance movie you found on TV. It’s not helping your mood much. Contrary to what you’d told Spencer, you had no plans. Unless you counted eating mint chocolate chip ice cream in your pajamas and watching tv like a lovesick puppy, plans.

“Don’t do it chica, you’re only gonna get friend zoned,” you mumble to the tv, taking a bite of ice cream.

A loud knock comes from your front door, startling you. You’d been awaiting an Amazon package all evening and figured it was finally the delivery man.

Setting the ice cream carton on the coffee table, you pad towards the door and open it to find out it’s not the delivery man. It’s Spencer.

He smiles at you before pulling you into a hug, his face nuzzling into your neck, a trait he always does when he hugs someone. Something you absolutely love. You feel your heart tug painfully as he hugs you tight as if he hasn’t seen you in forever. Technically, he hasn’t.

“Hey, I’ve missed your face, he says, pulling away.

“Sorry to just bust in like this. But I had to drop something off for Emily and I thought I’d stop by while I was out. Didn’t you say you had plans?”

His eyes sweep over the living room in front of him, landing on the carton of ice cream then flicking to the television.

“I- uh yeah I kinda did,” you stammer, unable to come up with a good enough excuse.

He rolls his eyes at you, motioning to the scene in front of the two of you, “Are you on your period? You could’ve just told me and I’d picked up ice cream and come to hang out with you anyway.”

You groan, turning to walk into your apartment, Spencer at your heels.

“I can’t believe you’d think to ask if it’s that. But no, I’m not.”

What? It’s a normal thing all women go through,” he shrugged, unfazed about the topic at all.

“I know you didn’t come by just to talk about my menstrual cycle Spencer.”

“No,” he said, more serious now. 

He takes a seat on your couch and you stand in front of him, trying to keep your distance. You’d really like to save yourself some heartache tonight.

“I came because I’ve missed you. I’m sorry we haven’t been able to hang out like we usually have. Work has been crazy, then there was JJ’s surprise birthday party last weekend.”

JJ, of course, you thought bitterly.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come but you said you were busy all weekend…”

Another lie. You just didn’t want to be around the two of them honestly. It was petty, you knew it, but it hurt to see them together. Especially with all that you knew. 

“Sorry about that. I hope she had a good time?”

“She did,” he grinned, launching into telling her about the party, but you only half listened.

What would he do if you ever confessed your feelings for him? Would he be freaked out? Would it scare him away? Most importantly, would it just make his life more difficult?

Yes, probably.

Which is why you couldn’t ever tell him. 

It was at this point that you realized he’d stopped speaking and you were still staring at him with your arms crossed. A highly defensive position. Something he would obviously catch on to. You watch as he takes notice of your body language and it’s like you see the moment he realizes something’s wrong. He knows you just about as well as you know yourself, in fact.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, concern flooding his features.

“Nothing.” 

You drop your arms, trying to appear less defensive, but you’re still tense.

“I’m not stupid, Y/N,” Spencer retorts, watching as you walk over and turn off the tv, “I know something’s wrong. Have you been avoiding me?”

“No.”

You don’t look at him when you answer.

“Then look at me.”

You do as you’re told and you’re sure your guilt is written all over your face.

“Have I done something wrong?”

The hurt expression etched on his face causes a fresh wave of pain to wash over you. The last thing you want is to ever hurt him, he doesn’t deserve it.

“No, you haven’t done anything Spencer.”

“You’re not upset about the whole JJ situation are you?” 

Your breath catches, as if frozen in your lungs. If only he realized just how on the mark that was.

“I know it’s been a mess with that entire thing, but it doesn’t change things for us. You’re still my best friend, you know that.”

Best. Friend.

You choke down the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat, the answers to all the questions that have been occupying your mind suddenly confirmed. He was never going to love you more than a friend and that was that.

“I talked to JJ about it too. She knows I’ve been confiding in you about it all and she feels bad about it affecting our friendship too.”

You laugh bitterly.

“It’s a little late for that.”

Confusion is all over his face now, mingled with the hurt.

“She said she’d like to get together with you sometime, maybe to make it up to you or maybe we can all hang out and—”

“Spencer, I’m tired. I think I just want to go to bed okay?”

You walk toward the door and you hear him stand from the couch.

“No. Not until you tell me what’s bothering you, Y/N.”

The tears are threatening to come. If you’re not careful they’re going to spill any second. All of a sudden you’re so weary, so drained. You’re just so very tired of carrying this.

“If you have to ask…” you whisper, your lips trembling. 

You do not want to cry in front of him. You refuse to. Then he’ll really know something’s wrong.

“I just want to know what’s wro—”

“Can you please just leave? I just want to be alone.”

He knows you well enough to know when to not bother arguing with you.

You catch a glimpse of each other as he walks past you to the door. He looks crestfallen, but his eyes search your face. Your expression is hard, closed to any emotion as to not betray your true feelings.

When the door closes behind him, you sink against the door to the floor, the tears finally coming. You sob so hard your body shakes violently. The hurt is such a deep sinkhole within you that you have no idea how you’re ever going to climb out of it.

•

He doesn’t know how it happens, but after driving around for nearly an hour, he ends up at JJ’s house.

Spencer gets out of the car, walking up the sidewalk to her front door. He hopes it’s not too late to be dropping in, but there’s no one else he knows to turn to about this.

He replayed the scene over and over in his mind, trying to figure out what was wrong, what had happened. Life had been so confusing lately and it seemed like when he had everything figured out it would just throw him another curveball. 

While things were rough and awkward with JJ for months, things were good and albeit normal with Y/N. Now that things were better—maybe a bit different—but still better with JJ, his friendship with Y/N had gone to hell. 

His IQ may be 187, but women were always confusing no matter if you were technically a genius or not.

JJ was the one who would know what to do. She’d helped him through so much shit before, he knew she could again.

The doorbell only rang once when the door opened to reveal Will.

“Hey man,” he grinned.

“You must’ve heard we had my award winning spaghetti for dinner tonight and came by for leftovers didn’t ya?” Will joked.

Spencer chuckled. He really did like Will; regardless of what had happened between himself and JJ, he knew Will was good for her and treated her right.

“Unfortunately not tonight. I was wondering if I could talk to JJ if she’s not busy?”

“Sure,” Will stepped aside, inviting him in, “Case you’re working on?”

“Something like that,” Spencer answered vaguely.

Before Will could answer, there was a shout that came from the other room.

“Uncle Spencerrrr!” 

A tiny body came flying at him and he picked up Michael in his arms, spinning him around and hugging him at the same time.

“Hey Michael, how are you?”

“Good,” he grinned. 

“Hi Uncle Spencer,” came another voice and Spencer looked up to see his other godson, the older Henry who was now too old to be picked up and spun around like he once did.

“Hey Henry.” He gave him a high five as Henry passed to the stairs.

“Michael, bedtime,” JJ scolded as she walked in the room not far behind her oldest son.

“Hey Spence,” she greeted, smiling at him.

“Just let me get these boys into bed and I’ll be right down.”

“You go ahead, I’ll tuck in the boys,” Will offered, taking Michael from Spencer’s arms.

“Come on little man. Bedtime. Tell uncle Spencer goodnight.”

“Night uncle Spencer!” the two chorused.

“Night guys,” Spencer smiled, watching Will disappear out of sight before turning to JJ.

“What’s up? I heard you tell Will it’s case related?”

“Not exactly,” he sighed, “I just didn’t want to get into my sob story.”

JJ took in his tired and worried expression with worry of her own.

“Come on into the kitchen and I’ll make us some tea and we can talk, okay?”

He nodded and followed her into the kitchen, taking a seat at the island as she filled the tea kettle with water and put it on the stove to heat.

“Now. Spill, Spence. I know you well enough to know when something is eating at you.”

“You’d think it’d be enough to know a person to be able to tell what’s wrong with them,” he muttered.

JJ’s look of confusion makes him shake his head and start at the beginning.

-

“So she’s been avoiding you until you went over there today?” 

Tea is poured into two cups and she sits in the chair next to him, listening to him continue his story.

“She said she had plans, but I thought I’d drop in and see if I could catch her. If not, I was going to leave a note under her door. We used to do that all the time,” he smiles ruefully.

“And she didn’t have any plans?”

“Didn’t seem like it. She was on the couch in pjs, watching TV and eating a carton of ice cream. I mean I thought she was on her period and—”

“Okay stop right there,” JJ set her cup down, holding up a hand.

“Never and I repeat never assume a girl is upset just because of her period.”

His browns wrinkled in confusion, “Why?”

“Just trust me Spence, it’ll save you a whole lot of time. Okay, continue.”

“Well, um, she said she wasn’t anyway. But then she just seemed...I don’t know, upset. I don’t know why. I don’t know if I did something. I was telling her that you felt bad about potentially affecting our friendship and I told her that she was always going to be my best friend and she threw me out.”

“Oh no,” JJ whispered.

“No, no it’s not your fault!” he rushed to explain.

“You idiot,” she groaned, hitting his shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You told her that she’d always be your best friend?!”

“Well...yeah, I mean it’s true. We’ve been friends forever like you and me.”

“That’s not all you and her have in common with you and me,” JJ stated.

“What do you mean?”

She sighed, running a finger around the lip of the mug.

“You know how when I confessed that I loved you?”

Spencer nods, still a little uncomfortable with the entire topic.

“I did mean it. I do love you. But there’s so many types of love, Spence. I may have been in love with you at one point and I’ll always have a love for you. But I’m not in love with you like I am with Will, but I do love you.”

“I’m not following. What does that have to do with me and Y/N?”

“She doesn’t just love you, Spence.”

She watches as realization slowly spreads across his face.

“She’s in love with you.”

“But how can you tell that when I never figured that out? You’ve only met her a few times anyway.”

“Spencer if you’d see the way she looks at you, you’d know.”

“Oh,” he breathed, running a hand over his face, “Oh wow.”

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same,” she grimaced, “Because that might be a worse effect on your relationship with her than in our situation.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just- it kinda dawned on me when I was on the way to her place from work that all of this time I had hoped for a life with you when actually I don’t, really.”

Her brows rose, interested, motioning for him to go on.

“I mean, I love my life as it is now and how things are with you now. You’re happy and that makes me happy and I’d rather have a life with you as my best friend than have a life without you in it at all.”

JJ smiled, putting a hand on his cheek before pulling him into a hug.

“She makes you happy Spence. Catch her before she gets away.”

•

You haven’t seen or spoken to Spencer for over a week since your meltdown. You realized just how shitty you felt for treating him so horribly. It wasn’t his fault that you fell for him, so you shouldn’t have taken it out on him. 

You attempt several times to reach out to him to apologize, but stop yourself every time. What if he’s better off without you in his life?

Your week goes by in a blur as you live on autopilot, going to work, running errands and just living like a zombie. Your mind is filled with nothing but Spencer. All the memories you have with him float around in your brain like a collage, revealing themselves one by one.

One in particular will always stand out: the night that you realized you were in love with him.

It wasn’t unusual for you and Spencer to meet up for dinner after work. This evening in particular was a dreary one. It looked like it would pour at any moment.

You ordered a cheeseburger and fries while Spencer got a steak and veggies although that didn’t stop him from eating half of your fries.

“Hey!” You smacked his hand for the hundredth time after he snagged another fry.

“If you wanted fries that badly you should’ve just gotten them yourself,” you grumbled, only half mad.

“But for some reason they just always taste better off your plate,” he laughed, grabbing a couple more.

You grumble a response not loud enough to hear, but that just makes him laugh even more.

“You love me.”

“You’re lucky I do,” you smirk, swiping your finger through your puddle of ketchup and placing a blob on his nose when he reached for more fries.

“Did you just-” he wipes some off his nose, staring at you incredulously.

“Yes, yes I did.”

He grins and wipes it off with a napkin. He doesn’t take any more fries after that.

He drives you home since you took the subway from work. Of course with your luck it decides to pour right before you get home. You could dash to the front door of your building as fast as you can and still get soaked.

“Stay here for a second okay?” Spencer instructs.

You look at him quizzically as he gets out and runs across to your side, opening your door.

“I can get you to the door faster. Here.”

He helps you unbuckle your seatbelt and he picks you up, running with you in his arms and you shriek with laughter at the unexpected gesture.

True to his word, he got you there quickly and when you’re safely under the shelter of the roof of the front of your apartment building, he sets you down.

His hair is wet and dripping, falling into his eyes and drops of water fall off his face to his wet shirt and tie. You weren’t spared much either as your hair and clothes are just as soaked, but it could’ve been worse.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you chuckled.

“Hey, think of it as payback for the fries.”

You smile and are about to invite him up to dry off when he hands over a small styrofoam to go box. You hadn’t even realized he was holding it before he picked you up.

“What’s this?”

“Dessert. Your favorite. I figured you deserved it after I ate your fries.”

You grin, surprised and open the container briefly to peak at the chocolate cake that is your favorite from the restaurant.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

It was at that moment when you looked up at him and saw the twinkle in his eyes, the big smile on his face, water droplets running down his skin and in dripping wet clothes you realized that he was the most beautiful man, in more ways than one. 

A noise from what sounds like the hallway brings you out of your reverie. Walking toward the door from the kitchen you catch a glimpse of white.

Looking down, you notice it’s a folded piece of paper. You pick it up and open it to read it and your breath catches in your throat as you read the words in the all too familiar writing.

I love you, too.

You open the door, intent on finding the sender to find him standing in the hallway.

“Spencer,” you breathe.

“H-How? How did you know?” you asked.

“JJ helped me figure it out.”

You exhale, overwhelmed with what’s happening.

“I mean it when I say she never meant to come between us or to hurt our relationship.”

“No, I know,” you nod, your mind moving so fast you’re not entirely sure you’re processing everything.

“I never hated her or anything. I mean I couldn’t exactly blame her for, you know, loving you.” 

Somehow during the conversation he’s ended up in your apartment and you’d closed the door, although you’re not entirely sure when that happened.

“I was scared to open myself up to someone else,” he admits, “I didn’t know it consciously before the confession though. But I do now.”

You nod, looking up at him, startling the slightest when your back hits the wall. He’s got you quite literally backed into a corner.

“You want to know what’s funny though?”

“What?” you whisper.

Your breath is heavy, your chest heaving. The desire to kiss him is so strong, your desire to have him is even stronger. You’re hanging onto his every word and he knows it.

“That night when I dropped by, I was going to tell you that I realized I didn’t want a life with JJ.”

“You don’t?” 

You watch him, his tongue moving over his lips before he answers. You might’ve gone a little weak in the knees at the action.

“I like this life better.”

Then it’s happening. His head bends down towards yours and yours reaches up to meet his, your lips meeting. It’s a feeling beyond anything you could ever imagine. His lips are soft and gentle against your own and his hands caress your face before gliding down to rest on your neck. You decided if this was the way to die, kissing him until you had no breath left was a wonderful way to go.

“I’m,” he kisses you again.

“So,” followed by another kiss.

“Sorry,” he breathes, connecting your lips again.

“For what?” 

You’d pretty much forgive him for about anything right now as your brain has completely fizzled out the moment his lips connected with your neck. 

“Everything. For hurting you. I never intended to.”

He pulls back from you completely, his hands at the edge of your shirt, eyes seeking permission.

“It’s okay,” you answer both things at once.

Your eyes flicker to the piece of clothing as it hits the floor. You feel him lift you, his hands under the back of your thighs and your eyes meet his. Suddenly you feel timid in his presence, something you’ve never felt.

“I got you,” he whispered then pressed his lips against yours.

You’re not exactly sure how much time passed spent kissing, hands roaming, trying to memorize one another. Clothes melt away, kisses spread over bare skin.

When he’s finally inside you, your mind completely blanks of everything but him and this moment. You catch his lips again but you can’t stop the whimpers that come from you as he moves within you. 

Your fingers tighten in his hair as you kiss him harder, all your previous frustration, sadness and love poured into the one kiss. His hands grip your hips, his gentle movements becoming harsher.

With his lips pressed against your throat, he says, “I want to hear you say it.”

You half hum and half moan your questioning hmm.

“That you love me.”

His eyes lock on yours and he watches you, knowing you’re coming apart at his doing. 

“Oh God, Spencer,” your legs inadvertently tighten around his waist as you moan, “I love you.”

His low groan of approval is like music to your ears and sends tingles down your spine. That and his erratic thrusts about send you spiraling right then.

“Y/N,” he whispers, your name falling from his lips repeatedly as he loses himself in the wonderful feeling.

Your chest is heaving again and your body is tense, ready to succumb completely to him.

Fire explodes through your veins at a lightning speed and you moan loudly, most likely embarrassingly loudly but you couldn’t care. It’s Spencer, and like it’s always been, you couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed about anything around him. 

Ecstasy takes its turn with him and you watch through lidded eyes at the complete look of abandon cross his face. With his eyes shut and lips parted there’s something so vulnerable about him as he completely loses himself in you.

“Spencer,” you whisper when you both have parted and caught your breath.

You’re watching him, a shy smile on your face as if you’ve dreamed this entire scenario.

“Hmm?” 

He’s set you down on the floor again and you have to rely on the wall to hold yourself up because your legs are nearly jello at this point.

He’s in the middle of grabbing up the clothes for you when he reaches out to steady you.

“Whoa there,” he chuckles, catching you before you can fall and most likely melt into a puddle.

“I love you,” you say again.

Now that you’ve actually said it out loud, you don’t want to stop saying it. With one arm still around your waist to steady you, his other hand brushes your cheek before pulling your face towards his for another kiss. His breath tickles your face when he speaks once again.

“I love you.”

[harley-sunday]

The Draw [16]

Summary: The whirlwind starts at the 2018 ACE Comic Con in Phoenix but you’re not sure where it will end…

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x reader (unnamed OFC)

Warnings: Language. 

Word count: 5k

AN: I just can’t seem to quit this story - I keep adding parts... But. BUT. We are closer to end. There’s not much more I can say without giving anything away, except that this chapter seems to consist of mostly phone calls... 🤷🏻‍♀️ I hope you like it, please let me know what you think - I’d love to read your thoughts :) ♥

Masterlist

“I don’t know, Brad,” you try your hardest not to sound as frustrated as you feel, “last week you told me that you understood the process, so I don’t really get why we are missing all this inventory right now.” You rub your temples, trying to get rid of the headache that started when you got to the office this morning, quietly cursing the jetlag that has been bothering you ever since you got back from Greece on Saturday, although you know Brad’s fuck-up also has something to do with it. Inventory is not that difficult. 

Brad, who’s been interning at the San Francisco office for a grand total of three weeks and yet somehow thinks he’s God’s gift to this company, just shrugs, “I’m sorry?”

You just stare at him and shake your head, “No. Go over it one more time, ok? I’m keeping these here,” you tap the stack of papers on your desk, “so really start at zero again and report back to me tomorrow morning.” You watch him roll his eyes before he nods and turns around to leave. “Brad?” You no longer try to hide the annoyance in your voice, “Close the door on your way out, will you?”

When he does you let out a frustrated groan and lean back in your chair, quietly shaking your head and wondering if you were ever this cocky when you first started working here. Probably not, Deb would have never allowed it. As if on cue your phone rings and when you see who’s calling you answer with a smile, “Hi, Deb.”

“How you holding up, kid?”

“Just told an intern to start over on inventory,” you offer, “so I’m sure he’s telling the other interns what a bitch I am right about now.”

You hear Deb chuckle, “Good for you.” There are some muffled sounds on the other end of the line then and you can just imagine her getting up and walking to the kitchen to get another cup of coffee because the woman seems to run on double espressos and cigarettes. “Listen, I want to run something by you.”  

Weird. This is weird. Usually she just informs you after whatever it is she has decided, but her wanting to 'run something by you' tells you she actually wants your opinion. You sit up in your chair, curious to hear what she has to say, “Sure.”

“Technically I’ve found someone to take over the San Francisco office from you,” she says, “and on short notice too, because I know you’ve already been out there longer than you’d like.”

“Ok,” you draw out, not sure where she’s going with this.

You hear her sigh and then she mutters something about biting the bullet before she says, “It’s Mark.”

“Oh.” Your heart drops and your throat goes dry, the lump that suddenly has appeared hard to swallow. There’s a million things running through your head all at the same time, some good, most of them bad, and an involuntary shiver runs down your spine. You don’t really know what else to say and so you stay quiet, waiting for Deb to give you something more to go on.

“I know,” her voice is unusually kind, reserved only for the really shitty situations and it tells you she hates this as much as you do. She clears her throat then, “I’ll be honest with you, kid, I contacted him. I know he wasn’t happy when I shipped him off to the London office after you-” she hesitates and clears her throat again, “After what happened. Thing is, he has done some great work there, out of all our overseas offices, this one’s giving us the best turnover.”

You only half-listen to her listing off why this is a good idea, your mind drifting to when you first met Mark. There was talk of a new guy coming in to maybe take over from Deb in a few years, supposedly the best in the business although some called him an asshole who would stop at nothing to get to the top and so by default you had decided you probably wouldn't like him, but then all of a sudden there he was, all six foot two of him, full of ambition and good looks  and sweeping you off your feet almost instantly. You told yourself, and him, you didn’t do office romance, that you would never date a colleague, but all it took was one night of overtime and some celebratory drinks after to make you forget your so-called rule. 

And the first six months were good, really good. Or at least that’s what you thought. In the end there were warning signs all along, but you just choose to ignore them. And even now you’re not sure what triggered him but something changed after those six months and Mark became manipulative, obsessive, and abusive, and at first you told yourself it was just stress from work, even though deep down you knew better. Still, you always believed you’d be the one to make him change his ways, if only you did what he wanted. Problem was, you were never sure what that was. 

He’d want you to wear a tight dress and high heels one day, and the next he would tell you you looked like a whore and what were you thinking leaving the house looking like that? It took you too long to understand you could never make him happy, no matter what you did, and that he would always find things to obsess over. When you finally realized your relationship had turned toxic it still took you another two years to quit him, and that was only after you learned he’d cheated on you with a girl from accounting. When Deb found out what Mark did she immediately took your side and made it look like his sudden move to the London office had been planned all along even though you know she had to pull quite a few strings. 

She still doesn’t know about the verbal abuse and the threats and the mind games, you realize then. Maybe if she did she wouldn’t have offered him to come back. 

“You still there?” Her voice interrupts your thoughts. 

“Yeah.” 

She sighs and you can just imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose, “Thing is, with the experience he has, you’d only need a day, two at most, to bring him up to speed.” She hesitates, “If we bring in someone new-”

“It’ll take at least four weeks,” you offer with a nod even though she can’t see you. 

“Yes.” 

“Yes,” you echo. You roll your lip between your teeth, trying to decide whether or not you should tell her the full story. Would it matter? And if it did, would it mean you’d be stuck out here longer?

“Listen, take the day to think about it,” she offers then, “get back to me tomorrow and let me know, ok?” 

“Ok.”

“Alright.” 

Before you get a chance to say goodbye she has disconnected the call and so you’re left with your own thoughts. Tapping your phone against your chin you’re trying to decide what to do, but it seems like too big of a decision to make on your own. You pull up your texting app and send Lauren a quick message:

You free tonight? 

Her reply comes not much later and surprises you:

Sorry, can’t tonight. Going on a date :)

You type a reply almost immediately:

?? Why didn’t you tell me? But also, YASSS! Go get it, girl! Call me tomorrow?

You lean back in your chair while you wait for her reply, a little upset that she didn’t tell you, and you can’t help but wonder why. 

Her reply doesn’t really make you feel any better:

You were busy, babe. Talk to you tomorrow.

You kick off your shoes the moment you step into the apartment you refuse to call home, and head straight to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine, before you open the takeout container and put some of the fried rice and egg rolls you got from your favourite restaurant on a plate. It’s still nice outside and so you end up on the tiny balcony, now bare feet propped up on the railing as you eat your dinner. 

The thought of having to work with Mark again, if only for a short while, takes up most of your headspace and you hate how indecisive you are about it. Part of you wants nothing to do with him ever again, but part of you knows he really is the best man for the job. Say what you will about the asshole, but he knows how to run a company. Having Mark at the San Francisco office would probably mean neither you nor Deb would have to step in ever again and, you reason, he could probably manage Seattle and Phoenix from here too. 

You really just want to talk to somebody about this, because putting your thoughts into words has always helped you, and so you call your brother.

The call goes straight to voicemail although a message follows soon after:

At Jake's science fair, or did you forget that was today?

You let out a frustrated groan, because yes, you totally forgot. 

It does nothing to help your mood and you're starting to feel so bad about missing out on so much that's happening in Charlotte right now, what with Jake’s science fair and Lauren apparently dating someone, that it's actually making you homesick. You decide to pour yourself another glass of wine, because fuck it. 

When you close the fridge your eyes fall on a picture of you and Sebastian you've put up there and you figure maybe you should just call him. A quick glance at the clock, however, tells you it's early morning in Greece and so you forego that idea because you don't really want to wake him up with the news your ex is about to make a comeback into your life.

You are having a very ‘Woo is me’ moment and hate how alone you feel right now. You know the wine is not helping and so you dump what’s left in the glass in the kitchen sink and put the kettle on for a cup of tea instead. While the water boiling you set out to find a notebook, hoping that putting your thoughts on paper will help you figure out what it is you can do about this situation and maybe make some decisions.

You call Deb the moment you’re at your desk and she answers on the first ring.

“Tell me,” 

Never one to beat around the bush, you think, although in this case you appreciate it. “Have Mark take over San Francisco,” you tell her, “but I need him to do his homework in advance because two days is my absolute max.”

“Noted,” Deb agrees easily, “but?”

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, “I want to be able to divide my time between Charlotte and New York as I see fit, with Charlotte as my home base, at least for now. If I ever decide to move to New York I want it to be an option to turn that arrangement around-” 

“Give me two weeks once Mark has settled in-”

“-and I’d like to take four weeks of unpaid leave in August,” you add quickly, before you lose momentum. 

She sucks in her breath, “I don’t know if I can do that, kid.” 

“It’s only four weeks, Deb,” you counter, “and it’s unpaid. I still have enough days left to make it a paid vacation if that’s what you prefer.” You close your eyes and scrunch up your nose, anxious about her reply, because you’ve never really talked back to her like this before. 

Turns out there was nothing to worry about when she tells you, “Look who finally put on her big-girl panties, standing up to her boss.” She lets out a laugh, “I’m proud of ya, kid.” 

“Will you let me know when to expect Mark? I’ll make sure everything’s ready by then.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“It’s just,” Lauren hesitates, and you want to tell her it’s ok, that you know you haven’t been there for her as much as you should have, but she continues then, “it’s weird not having you around, not knowing what you’re up to. Not knowing if, when I call you, I’m bothering you.”

“Hey,” you counter quickly, “you are one of the few people who never have to worry about that and I’m a little shocked you would even think that. You can call me day or night, Laur, always.” 

“I know.” She sighs then, “It’s just- I feel like- I don’t know, ok? It’s just different with you being so far away for so long. I miss you.” 

“I know,” you try to smile even though she can’t see you, “I’m sorry for not being the best bestest friend these past few weeks. I miss you too, babe.” You get up from the couch and make your way onto the balcony where you lean against the railing, “Let’s just hope Mark can make it out of London soon so I can get back to Charlotte and get back to annoying you twenty-four seven.” 

She laughs, “You’re going to have to share me now, though.”

You’re relieved she seems to have accepted your apology and so you decide to tease her a little more, “You do realize the first thing I’m doing when I get back is give Matt the same stern talking-to as you did Sebastian?” 

“Oh shit,” she whispers. A little louder then, “Please don’t, I really like him.” 

“Well you better tell him then that your best friend is not above kicking his ass if he ever hurts you.”

“Will do.” She clears her throat then, “So, are you going to tell Sebastian about Mark?” 

“That was the most abrupt change of subject ever,” you scoff with a grin, “what the hell, Laur?”

“I just think you should tell him.”

“I know,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I will. I just want to wait until I know when Mark gets here, you know?”

“Yeah.” She lets out a yawn and laughs, “Sorry.”

“Alright, alright,” you smile, “I get the hint.” 

She laughs, “I’m sorry, babe, it’s been a long day. Listen,” another yawn, although you’re sure this one was on purpose, “let me know once you know more about Mark and when you’re getting back, ok?”

“Yup, will do.” You have to stifle your own yawn then, “Talk to you soon, babe.” 

“Love you.”

It isn’t until Friday afternoon that there’s an email from Deb, informing you Mark will take a flight from London next Wednesday so that you have all of Thursday and Friday to get him settled in. She’s included a list of subjects he wants to discuss but you decide that’s for later, before you close all active connections and shut your laptop off. You grab your phone off your desk and send a quick message to Lauren:

Coming home next weekend :)

Her reply comes when you’re at the elevator bay:

Yay! Let me know how when you land and I’ll pick you up! Xx

Your next message is to Sebastian:

Missing you something fierce, Stan! Call me when you can? X

The sound of your phone wakes you from a deep sleep early on Sunday morning, but you can’t help but smile when you see ‘Mr Smooth’ flashing on your screen and so you answer with a quiet, “Hey you.”

“God, it’s good to hear your voice again,” he whispers. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

“Hi,” 

“You ok?”

“Yeah,” you smile, “I have some news though.” There’s a knot starting to form in your stomach and so you figured it’s better to bite the bullet right away. 

“Tell me,”

“Promise you’ll let me finish before you say anything?”

“That bad?”

“Not really- I don’t know,” you push the covers off and swing your legs over the edge of the bed. You take a deep breath before you continue, “Remember when I told you about my ex, Mark?” 

“Hmm,” he replies, and you take that as your cue to continue.

“What I didn’t tell you then- And maybe I should have- We used to work together in Charlotte.” You clear your throat, “And when we broke up Deb moved him to the London office, but now she wants him to take over San Francisco from me.” You wait for a reply from him, but then remember you told him to wait and so you continue, “He starts on Thursday and we’ve scheduled two days for me to bring him up to speed, so I’m going to have to spend some time together with him and I don’t know, I just thought you should know.” You push yourself off the bed and make your way to the kitchen, “The good news though, is that I got Deb to agree to let me divide my time between Charlotte and New York from now on, and that I have four weeks off in August.”

He stays quiet for a little too long and so you’re preparing for the worst when he finally replies. But then he just says, “How do you feel about seeing him again?” and you feel a wave of relief washing over you.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I mean, I know he’s right for the job and it’s always easier to bring in someone who has experience and knows the company, but I- There’s a lot of history there and I just hope he realizes I’m not the same person anymore.” You lean against the counter and let out a sigh, “I guess I just want to get this over with and go back to Charlotte.”

“So nothing for me to worry about?” His voice is soft.

“No,” you’re quick to reassure him. 

“Good.”

Mark is, well, he’s still an asshole, you realize when he walks into your office and tries to greet you with a hug. You offer him a hand and a curt, “Hello,” and have to hide your smile when you see the disappointment in his eyes. You’ve been feeling nervous all morning, hell, all week, because somehow you knew he would try to act like nothing ever happened. 

“So this is how it’s  going to be, huh?” He says while he puts his briefcase down on one of the visitors’ chairs on the other side of your desk. 

“Yes, Mark,” you nod and sit down in your own chair, “this is exactly how it’s going to be.” You watch as he unbuttons the jacket of his three piece suit before he sits down and leans back in his chair and you hand him a folder, “Read this first, it’s an overview of the last five years and should give you a fairly good impression of how things are run here.”

He thumbs through the papers, seemingly resigned to the fact that it’s solely a business relationship between you two from now on, and you see his eyebrows go up when he comes to the financial statements, “How on earth-”

“I know,” you hand him another folder, “this is Paul Kroeger’s file. Or at least everything that I’ve managed to uncover in the few weeks I’ve been here. I really urge you to keep digging, because I’m sure more shit will come up.” 

“Why didn’t Deb step in sooner?”

“You’ll have to ask Deb that,” you offer with a shrug. Another folder then, “This is everything you need to know about the rest of the staff here. I don’t think anyone else was in on it, but again, you might want to keep digging.”

He nods, “Ok.” Taking all three folders, he puts them in his briefcase before he looks back at you, squinting a little as if he’s trying to read you. There’s a hint of a smile playing on his lips when he says, “You’ve changed.” 

And you haven’t, you want to bite back, but don’t because you want to at least try to keep things civil. Instead you simply agree, “I have.” You try to steer the conversation back to work, “We have a meeting with Finance in ten minutes, then lunch with the board, and a meeting with Sales in the afternoon. After that I figured we could take a quick tour of the building, so you can meet everyone, and then I’ll send out the official message to all of our partners.”

He just nods.

“I’ll make sure to have this office empty by the end of the day so you can get settled in,” you continue, “and then I’ll be available all day tomorrow should you have any further questions.” 

“You forgot one thing,”

You don’t say anything and just look at him with a raised eyebrow. 

A cocky smile flashes across his face when he says, “You forgot to mention we’ll be having dinner tonight so we-”

“We’re not having dinner tonight, Mark,” you say, effectively cutting him off. It makes you feel good to tell him no and so you have to try your hardest to hide your smile when you see his face drop. 

“You really have changed,” he says again, but this time there’s a hint of dismay in his voice.

You smile widely now, because fuck him, “Yes. I really have.”

Blame it on the red-eye flight and thus having to get up extremely early this morning, or simply on the fact that it’s been five weeks since you last saw her, but you find yourself actually tearing up when you walk out of exit E and see Lauren waiting there for you. 

She holds out her arms as you walk up to her and then envelopes you in a tight hug, “Don’t cry, silly.” 

“I just really missed you,” you sniffle while you wrap your arms around her. “And it’s that time of the month, so you know,” you chuckle through your tears, “double the fun.” When you pull back you see her eyes are glossed over as well and so you just stick out your tongue at her, “Let’s go home.” 

“Alright,” she says once you’re in her car, “start talking, babe. I want to know everything that’s happened since I last saw you.”

You’ve just finished telling her about your parents’ visit to San Francisco and your trip to Greece when she pulls up on your driveway and so all of a sudden you’re home again after almost two months. The garden looks absolutely immaculate and you know you have your parents to thank for that, reminding yourself to call them later today. Grabbing your suitcases out the trunk you let Lauren take one from your as you follow her to your house.

She turns around rather dramatically when you get to the front door, “Ok. So. Please don’t be mad, but-” she pulls a face, “-that plant in your dining room?” 

“Felicity?”

“Sure, yeah,” she scoffs, “name your plants. What’s next? Naming your electrical appliances?”

“You’re just stalling because Felicity the Fiddle Leaf Fig is obviously no longer with us and you’re just too afraid to admit you killed her,” you counter, trying to keep a straight face.

“I didn’t-” Lauren hesitates then and seems to realize you’re just messing with her, “but yes. Felicity has gone to plant heaven. It was all very sad. I buried her in the backyard if you want to pay your respects.” 

You let out a laugh, “I’d rather you just open the front door for me so we can have a drink and gossip about Mark.”

“You really said that?” 

“I really did,” you admit with a smile, thinking back to when you told Mark to have a nice life when you left the office Friday afternoon. You grab the bottle of wine from off the floor next to you and top of her glass before you fill yours, “I don’t know. In a way those two days gave me some sort of closure, I guess.”

“Hmm,” she agrees, taking a sip of her wine. “So what’s next?”

“Well first you’re going to introduce me to Matt sometime this week-”

“Babe.”

“Babe,” you echo. “You’ve been dating for almost a month, do I need to remind you that you met Sebastian before we even were officially dating?”

“Yeah, ok,” she agrees, “I guess you could both come over for dinner next weekend.” She sits up a little, “So you’re going to be here for a while, right?”

You nod, “Sort of. I go back to work on Monday and then Sebastian’s scheduled to fly back on the third and that’s the same weekend I start my four-week leave-”

“That’s only two more weeks.”

“It is,” you smile. “I don’t know if he wants to celebrate his birthday here or if he wants to go to New York, and I think he said something about maybe taking a short holiday somewhere, but his next project starts in September so I’ll come back to Charlotte then and probably stay here while he’s away.” 

“Ugh,” Lauren rolls her eyes and shakes her head but smiles, “to be the girlfriend of an international superstar.” 

“Tante!” Jake exclaims when he opens the front door. He all but jumps in your arms to give you a hug.

“Uh, excuse me, sir,” you tease, resisting the hug, “who are you and what did you do with my nephew?” You laugh when he pulls a face, “You are getting too big, kiddo, slow it down a little, will you?” 

Jake giggles and hugs you even tighter. 

“Ah, there she is,” Nathan says from the doorway, arms crossed in front of his chest, “my long-lost sister. So glad you're finally gracing us with your presence after coming back home a week ago.” 

“So dramatic,” you counter with a grin, although he has a point. You should have gone to see them sooner, but as always work got in the way, what with Deb doubling your workload before you take your leave in another two weeks. Jake jumps out of your arms then and so you get to hug your brother for the first time in what feels like forever, ‘“ Hi, Nate.”

“Hi, loser,” he says from somewhere over your shoulder, but the way he holds you tight tells you he’s missed you too. 

“How you holding up?”

“Good,” he pulls back and smiles, “still some headaches every now and then, but not as much as two months ago-”

“That’s good,” you agree. You follow them through the house and out into the backyard, where Jake excitedly shows you the inflatable swimming pool he and Nathan put up yesterday. Sitting down on one of the chairs you watch him as he takes off his shirt and jumps in without hesitation. 

Nathan re-emerges from the kitchen with some iced tea and hands you a glass before he sits down somewhere next to you. He flicks your upper arm, “You good?”

You nod, “Yeah.” 

“Truth?”

“Truth,” you reply with a nod. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, “a lot has happened in a short time, I guess.” 

This is new, you think, this out-in-the-open caring side of your brother. You decide you like it and so you try not to make a smart remark but instead reassure him, “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Nate, what are you getting at?” You’re confused now, because why is he pressing this? 

He hangs his head and lets out a sigh, “I guess you haven’t seen it yet, have you?”

“I’m not-” you watch him as he gets his phone and pulls up something that has his jaw set in a way that tells you whatever it is, it’s not good. He hands you his phone then and you let out a quiet, “Oh,” when you see the pictures.

“I figured that’s why you were here,” he says with a nod towards his phone.

"When?"

"Saw them this morning," he offers.

You scroll further down and feel your throat go dry when you see picture after picture of Sebastian and some girl, her hand on his arm as she seems to whisper something in his ear. He’s laughing in some of the pictures and if you didn’t know any better you’d think they were on a date. 

“Is that his co-star?” Nate asks quietly, knowing that if it is the pictures could have been taken on set and it wouldn’t be as bad. 

Not trusting your voice right now you just shake your head because no. No, it isn’t. 

“I’m sure it’s nothing, babe,” Lauren tries again, but she sounds a little less confident now that she’s seen the pictures and read the accompanying article about Sebastian’s new mystery woman where they claim she’s a Greek local he fell for while filming ‘Monday’.

You drove straight to her house when you left Nathan’s in a hurry, but only after you promised him you wouldn’t do anything reckless, and now you’re on her balcony, trying to make sense of all of this over some hard liquor because you both deemed wine wasn’t going to cut it. 

She says something else then, but you’re not really listening and so you just continue to stare into the distance. She nudges you with her foot, “Call him.” 

You shake your head, “I don’t want to.” 

“Why not?”

You look at her with tears in your eyes, your voice barely above a whisper, “What if it’s true?”

[doux-ciel]

Gift Of Life. Hoping for a Miracle

Soundtrack:  🎵 🎵 🎵

Character Aesthetics:  🔥 🔥 🔥

Tagged: @youngdumbxlit @cvlms @jess---writes @jadeswritinggarden @bambimattel @requiemdelune @blackandwhitesunsets @bzrtales @viviscreams @thewriterkatie @erinisawriter @seraphilth @godxblooded

*Im going to have a link to my post in which it asks if you want to be tagged in my WIP’S* 

If so click here ->  ✨ ✨ ✨

|Trigger Warning|  Book does contain talk of death, Depression, Eating Disorders, Angst, Emotionally heavy topics. 

⚠⚠ YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!! ⚠⚠

“Mom why is the sky blue?”

I reply to my curious 8 year old daughter who was laying in the frosty grass of my backyard; her striped rainbow hat had fallen beside her face. “I don't know”

“Mom why is the grass green?” She asks as she plucks a blade of grass, her fingers melting the icy substance.

She never runs out of questions to ask. I place my book down on the end table that was near the patio chair. “I don't know sweetie”

“Mom why can't I have a sister or a brother?”

“That I definitely don't know” I chuckle a little while bringing my hot tea to my lips, taking a sip. Counting the calories in my head, I close my eyes just for a moment to enjoy this feeling; knowing soon it would be over. I place my mug down focusing my attention on my 4’1 fair skinned daughter who had jumped up from the icy ground and ran over to me. “You don't love all the attention I’m giving you?”

While in my arms she answered. “Attention is for animals at the zoo, Lindsey at school her mom just had a baby…..I want a baby too”

I take my cold hands placing them on her rosy cheeks, bringing her face closer to mines giving each other Eskimo kisses. “I do too darling” She giggles and backs away from me, taking a seat next to me on the patio chair. She grabs her mug, bringing the now cool hot chocolate to her lips.

We both turn our heads over to the fence that encompasses our backyard when we hear a familiar voice. My mother-in-laws voice fills my ears; Natasia holds her hands out and crouches down to be at the same level with Adalynn who was currently running to her grandmother. “Hey there's my little sweet cake”

“Grandma!!” Adalynn exclaims, her short arms wrap around the elderly woman’s neck.

Natasia lifts up Adalynn while picking up her scarf that had fallen from their previous encounter. “Are you ready for ice skating today?”

Adalynn nods, now placing her head on Natasia’s neck. “Yes I'm ready”

I see Natasia’s eyes shift over to me, she has a look of disapproval. I then see her nutmeg colored eyes observe Adalynn’s attire, seeing as how she is in her knit grey leggings, a yellow coat and her uggs. Basically what Natasia is saying that she is not in her practice uniform. Lowering my head as my red hair falls into my face. I then reach up to where my book lay grabbing it, the title read Bound Before The Morrow. “Well you don't look ready? Where's your skates and your gloves?”

Natasia sets Adalynn down on the ground, “There in the library, I have to go find them!! Can you help?”

Natasia grabs Adalynn’s hand, they both start their trek to my home library. As they walk past me, Natasia places her hand on my shoulder squeezing her nails which are digging into my skin. “Off to the library we go!!”

I flinch a little, waiting for the pain to subside my mind would often think about having more children. Giving my husband a boy or another girl, giving Adalynn someone to play with, giving her someone to grow up with.

I want to have a real family.

Speaking of my husband I see his name pop up on my phone screen, his profile picture is of him when we were on our vacation to the Maldives. I immediately answer; putting the book in my hand down. I bring my Iphone XIX up to my ear, I hear his low-toned voice which makes me smile.

“Hey my love”

I rise up from the patio chair, grabbing my now empty mug and Adalynn’s half full mug; gathering the piece of literature. While balancing my phone in between my shoulder and ear; I walk into the kitchen which was seconds away from my backdoor.“Hi Nathaniel, I can't wait for you to come home” Placing the mugs in the warm soapy water, and with my other hand I place the book down on my gray marble counter tops.

Nathaniel sighs, I know he has had a ton of meetings today, he must be exhausted. “I can't wait to come home either...I'm so ready to-”

“Get in bed?” I ask.

“Yes definitely” He answers.

“And doing what in bed?” I ask, as I take off my jacket my hands brush against my nipples which were now erect from just the sound of his voice. I knew I needed him in me now.

“Sleeping, I'm so drained from today's meetings”  I roll my eyes as I rest my elbows by the edge of the sink.

Turning on the faucet, letting the cold water run and scooping some up with my free hand; splashing it on my face. I know my face was red like a strawberry as I blushed with embarrassment. “Well I'm ovulating and I just thought-”

Nathaniel quickly apologizes “I'm so sorry…..your right, but wait don't you have that appointment today? To check to see if everything is working properly?”

That last comment caught me off guard, I scoff shutting the water off, my voice gets higher with every word. “Are you trying to say something Nathaniel?”

“What are you talking about?” Nathaniel asks, his voice getting defense.

“Are you calling me defected or something?”

I don’t hear anything on the other end for a good 30 seconds before I hear his usual blunt voice louder than normal. “Look I never said that...I'm just saying we have been trying for a couple of months now and nothing is happening”

I was getting agitated by the minute, and to think I was happy when he first called me just ten minutes earlier. “Yeah well maybe there's something wrong with you? Did you ever think about that?!”

He clears throat his voice is clear and firm, “Charlotte just go to the doctor and listen to what they are saying...they know what they are doing, just let them figure this out.”

I take a deep breath, practicing the exercises my therapist taught me when I’m feeling stressed. My words come out in a more calm tone. “I know it's just hard not knowing”

I can tell he was smiling through the phone, “Hey your still perfect to me” He softly says to me.

I roll my eyes while walking over to the living room placing my butt on the cushion first while letting gravity lead the rest of my body to fall. I snicker, “You've gotten better at dodging the situation.”

I then earn a chuckle from my husband, “I just try not to think about it...so are you finishing up your book?”

I examine a piece of loose cloth on my sweater while thinking about my newest romance novel, that I still have yet to complete. “Yeah, Bloomsbury said I have to turn it in by next week so I'll be cramming in the last few chapters like every night”

“You can do it” I appreciate the encouraging words from him but I already know he isn’t that interested in my writing. He barely wants to hear my ideas when its just us two together in the office sometimes. I know I supported him when he was starting up his computer software company, but its like he can’t give me that type of support. I already hear it from his mother everyday about how I’m not contributing to the household and how my job isn’t ideal for our lifestyle but I think Nathaniel and I are well off. Sometimes too well off, but I’m grateful for the life my husband has provided for me and I wouldn’t ever want to change it.

“Thank you” I reply.

He was now sounding concerned, “Did you eat today?”

I look over at the breakfast he made me this morning, some pancakes, eggs, with some sausage and a glass of orange juice. I can feel the plate staring at me; taunting me almost.

I lie. “Yes why?”

“You know how you get Charlotte” His voice changes to a more cheery tone. “How's my little blessing doing? Does she miss papa?”

A smile appears on my face thinking about how close they have gotten over the years. Old memories flood in when we first brought her home with us, when she wouldn’t let anybody else hug her but Nathaniel. That little girl has brought so much life to both of our lives. “She sure does”

“I want to talk to her”

My eyes search around the room until I hear Adalynn’s whines coming from the bathroom upstairs, I’m thinking Natasia is trying to do her hair. Its safe to say Adalynn despises getting her hair touched at all, if it weren’t for me doing her hair at night while she was asleep her hair would look like a birds nest. “She's getting ready for ice skating lessons”

I hear some shuffling of some papers on the other end of the line. “Who's taking her?”

“Well your mother of course” I answer matter of factly.

“Is Wallace going with her?” he asks referring to Natasia’s life partner as she likes to call. I just think she didn't want to date someone who was halfway to their deathbed.

I shake my head, trying to remember the man's work hours, “No I don't think so, why would he go with her?”

He clicks his tongue, he voice is now showing a hint of annoyance, “He follows my mom everywhere when he's not at work, he's like a lost puppy looking for a bone”

I try and reason with him, in no way am I condoning this relationship but its his mother's life. “He likes her company, I mean they are together”

I can see his face now, he probably has his head buried in his hands, the vein on his forehead is probably protruding. His voice sharp on the subject at hand. “I don't even know why mom would get with that bast-”

“Hey, just calm down...now it's been years since your father died Nathaniel, I think she felt it was time for her to move on” I bring my hand up to my face sliding it across from my eyebrows to my right cheek. Slightly annoyed by his whole tone changing just by the sound of a another mans name. If I being honest I think Nathaniel just doesn’t want his mother to be happy with anyone else.

“With a guy 30 years younger than her?”

“Love is love”

I hear a foreign voice on his end of the line call out to him, he pauses for minute listening to what the person had to say. He grumbles profanities before saying, “Anyways I have to go, tell Adalynn I said good luck at practice today, and for you good luck with the appointment.”

I place my hand on my stomach, sending a little prayer up to the universe asking to help me. “Love you”

“Love you to pieces.” He replies back, I then hear the three beeps letting me know the call has ended.

I bring my feet down to the multicolored carpet that lay in my very moody/dark living room. Walking over to the kitchen where my plate of food lay, I look at how the syrup has settled into the fried flour. How the eggs have melted cheese in them, and how the sausage is glistening with the fatty oils that came from the pan.

It makes me sick to even think about.

Without hesitation I place the food in the garbage can, while taking a few minutes of my time to tidy up the kitchen.

Just after I had finished putting all the wet dishes on the drying rack; I see my phone buzz. I see the notification from an unknown number. I tap the message, reading the screen over and over hoping it would change. Hoping she would somehow disappear from my life forever.

¤ ¤ ¤

While Natasia was taking Adalynn to practice I had to catch my appointment with Dr. Stone. She has been my doctor for years, even before I wanted to have children. I was sitting in her office waiting for her to come back with my test results we had previously did in the summer, approximately about 2 months before today’s date. Her mahogany tinted skin came into view, her eyes were looking down at my folder, she didn’t express any emotion at all. Sitting down across from me; her silver and glass office desk is the only barrier between us two. “Nothing is 100% set in stone but things aren't looking good Charlotte...the tests came back, we already know that you had some problems in your past.”

I purse my lips, crossing my arms over my body, “Problems that I'm trying to fix.”

She sets my folder aside, she swallows her lips; looking me in my eyes she asks. “Have you been making yourself-”

Why won’t she let this subject go? Can’t she see that I’m trying to do better for not only my health but the health of my womb. I notice my right eye start to twitch while my left leg start to move side to side. “No...I told you I'm trying to fix things”

Pursing her own plump lips she looks at my body language, her eyes focus back on her desk. “I know I'm just making sure”

I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding in. I’m starting to get anxious about the silence in the room, with only the clock ticking. I straighten up in the chair I’m currently sitting in; peering over to look at my folder I try and make out what all of this means. Placing my chewed fingernails on the edge of the desk I ask,  “Ok so what is it?”

Her eyes meet mines, a warm smile appears on her face making me feel much better about my current condition, but boy was I wrong. “You seem to be ovulating regularly but we are not in the safe zone, with the things your body has been through with your other miscarriages plus your eating disorder I don't know if your even going to able to carry another baby full term.”

That isn’t what I wanted to hear at all.I sit back in my chair, placing my index finger on my temple and my thumb on my cheekbone, my voice is now grim “Do you think I’ll ever be able to experience motherhood to the full extent?”

“Charlotte you’re already a mother” Dr. Stone reassures me, reaching her hand across the desk; motioning her fingers telling me to grab a hold of her hand for comfort. Even though it seems sometimes she has a stone heart, it feels like something or someone is always chipping away at it. Never married, no children, her life seems more miserable than mines. But she had told me previously she lives a happy and well content life, a life that is worth living.

Grabbing onto her hand I feel my nose get hot, my top lip starts to quiver, I can feel myself start to crumble in front of her. “Yes I know that but, experiencing the baby kick and the belly…..the maternity clothes” My head lowers having my thick head of hair conceal my face, I notice the tears falling down like raindrops onto her desk. I repeatedly apologize, while taking my sweater and trying my best to wipe it away.

Dr. Stone squeezes my hand and in a soft but comforting voice she says, “Charlotte look….I know it’s hard. But you have to realize there are other options for you….you could try adopting”

I shake my head, quickly retracting my hand back away from hers; I take the sleeve of my sweater to wipe my face. Again that’s not what I was wanting to hear, maybe it was childish of me to not face reality but I wasn’t in the right mental space to accept that something is really wrong with me. I rise up from my seated position, “Are we done here?”

I could see Dr. Stone was taken aback by my actions just a few seconds prior, but that didn't; stop her from containing a level of professionalism. She grabs a pen from inside her desk, “Yes, just let me sign your paperwork and give you your prescription.”

When I walk into the lobby of the clinic I wait in line for my name to be called to set up another appointment with Dr. Stone in the next couple of months. As I’m waiting I see a woman who looks middle aged, carrying a small infant. I peer down, her saddle brown diaper bag and I see a large text book, in which it read: The Visual Display of Quantitative Information. It looks as though she is getting her Ph.D. I then settle my eyes on the warm olive toned baby. The baby could be 5 months...6? I focus my attention back on the mother, I wonder how life for her is like, is it hard? Trying to be in school while also raising a child? I wonder if she too had complications conceiving and suddenly she fell pregnant? Or If she’s just fertile and has 6 kids at home, either way I'm jealous.

Why can’t I just conceive? I can feel the tears coming, I start to sniffle the mucus that was wanting to run all down my nose. A kind young woman noticing me grabs me some tissue from her purse, I gladly took them. After a short while of being in my own head my name finally got called.

I had just gotten in my 2026 Honda C-RV, with my seat belt on but; I didn’t put my left foot on the brake to push the button to start the car. Instead I turn my back to look at the 2nd row of my sports utility vehicle; looking at the back two seats. Seeing Adalynn’s booster seat brings back memories of when Nathaniel and I first brought it. The countless questions he would ask when she first started riding with us.

“Are you comfortable Adalynn?”

“Is it too high Adalynn?”

I then remember just a short time after she had gotten comfortable with us, Nathaniel and I were taking a trip to the market. Adalynn was in a deep slumber, we could see her lips slightly parted hearing her small snores.

In the driver's seat, he takes his seat belt off turning to me while I was trying to get the shopping list together, “You think you want another?”

I mush my eyebrows together confused as to what he was asking me. “Another child?”

He nods, grabbing my hand, “Of course another child...but this time I want you to carry mines”

I look away not wanting to discourage him but I know with the previous miscarriages it would be damn near impossible.

As my electric blue eyes scan the outside world, bringing me back to the present.

 Through my back window I notice a butterfly; swiftly moving against the wind its beautiful and articulate details to its wings had me memorized. The way tiny insect was able to push through and keep on going.

Butterflies mean hope, it could mean something else to others but to me it means I have to to keep hope alive, I can’t give up. In the back of my mind I knew I couldn’t bring myself to arrive home and present my husband with horrible news.

Not again at least.

I wanted to give him another child but I needed to weigh my options again, I needed to make a decision on what I was going to do. To have that hope that I had a few minutes ago; I decide to call the only person I know who could help me in this situation. Pressing my left foot on the brake I push the button to start my vehicle. 

Taking my phone and grabbing my charger cord connecting it to car; I press the third contact number down. After hearing the 4th ring she finally answers, Her honeyed voice fills up my car. “Hi”

I look in the rear view mirror waiting to see if any cars were coming behind me. When I don't see anyone I proceed to change my gear to reverse, “How are you doing? Mother”

Natasia answers, “I'm doing well your little firecracker is keeping me on my toes, I can't wait for another.”

My foot presses on the break suddenly my body jerks forwards. Taking a couple of shallow breaths I look back in my rear view mirror seeing a car almost run into me. I take my hand putting it up; mouthing the words ‘I'm sorry’ to the husband who is currently trying to get his wife into clinic that I was just coming out of. I clear my throat, “I don't think that's going to happen”

“What? What do you mean?”

As I turn out the parking lot and onto the main road I press the button to let the seat heaters turn on, I turn the volume up a bit higher. “The doctor told me that she doesn't think I'm able to carry a baby to full term”

Natasia scoffs, “Oh that's preposterous! That's just not true”  I hear Adalynn in the background naming her favorite animals.

Stopping at the red light I raise my eyebrows while nodding my head, “I'm telling you...it is”

I hear her voice get quiet, “What about adoption?”

I press the gas pedal when the light turns green, my car hits a pothole in the road sending me and my car up off the asphalt for a second. I twist my lips, “Adoption again? We had to wait years to get Adalynn and I don't think I can't wait that long again...we just got her three years ago, I want a baby. A baby that I can hold and nurture, a baby that knows I'm its mommy.”

“Well you know Rachel?” Natasia asks me.

I remember fondly of the now mother 5, her husband was a aerospace engineer while she was a real estate agent. Her eldest Destiny would play with Adalynn sometimes after school. “Yeah the one that had the triplets last fall?”

“Yeah her..well she was infertile and she got some help.”

Now I’m intrigued I always thought she had the triplets naturally, although I was a little skeptical on why she would always be in her minivan covering her stomach while picking up her girls. “Help? What do you mean?”

“I mean she hired a surrogate”

I was astonished, I didn’t know how to react. I turn on the corner of Layfette and Wilbur Road. “Is that illegal?”

Natasia chuckles, “Oh no darling never...I'll tell you what? I'll set you up an appointment at the place, it's called Gifting Miracles”

Thinking about what she was saying still in my heart I thought about that butterfly. I still want to keep trying but maybe sitting back and letting someone else do the work for me isn't so bad right?

I mean the saying goes mom knows best.

I smooth out my tan slacks and button the top of my jade green blouse, walking into the Ice Skating Rink for my interview. As I enter I’m greeted with a plethora of hellos and good afternoons from the parents waiting for their children to go onto the ice. I see to my left and right a sitting area, most of the kids are in their long sleeved shirts either playing with one another or on a tablet.

I look straight ahead from the front door I see the ice rink, a coltish young brunette haired woman shouts out to the kids that were currently on the ice. All the girls huddle around to watch as she brings her right hand around her body; her arms moving slowly. “Ok girls now we are going to bring our right hand around and start slowly skating backwards”

I then get interrupted by my name being called. “Yesenia Cervantes?”

Not knowing where the sound came from I turn my head to my right, I don’t see anything but a coffee stand. When I turn to my left, in the farther left hand side of the room I see an elderly woman. Looking to be late 60’s her dainty body walks over to me, giving me a grin. I put my hand out to shake hers, “I called earlier asking about any volunteer opportunities and a lady named Harlow on the phone said I should come in person to speak with someone”

I can see everyone turning to look at me, the mothers in the lobby whisper to themselves, probably wondering how a woman of my ethnicity can skate on the ice. She motions me with her hands to follow her in the clear glass office space.  “Well that’s my assistant but she’s not in right now but I'm happy you stopped by...I'm Daisy”

After we got settled into our seats, I quickly put my phone on silent. Ms. Daisy is sitting in the cherry red office chair reading my references out loud, she pauses when she gets to my education. She purses her lips, “So what college?” she asks as she reaches on her desk for her reading glasses, placing them on her face.

I proudly say, “University Of Wisconsin-Madison...Junior”

She nods while placing my information down she grabs a manila folder from her filing cabinet, licking her finger to separate the pages sitting back down. “Ok, well I'm just going to ask you a few questions-”

We both get interrupted by a freckled face red head child, her hair in a really neat bun. She runs to the desk where me and the older woman sat, placing her arms around the woman. “Ms. Daisy!!”

Ms. Daisy’s eyes light up when she sees the tiny human cling onto her scrawny limb.“Oh hey Adalynn!! How are you doing today?”

The young child with 2 teeth missing on the bottom row of her mouth showed a toothy grin. “I doing spec….spec-”

I finish her sentence, “Spectacular?”

Adalynn and her beautiful tawny brown eyes had to suppress the anger she had with a huff, her tiny lips form a pout as she points her index finger at me. “She wouldn’t let me finish but that’s what I was gonna say”

Again we were interrupted by an elderly woman, her jet black hair was slicked back into a tight bun just like the little girl who ran in here 3 minutes ago. Unbidden, her gaze rose to the scene before her, staring at me. Her face contorted into a mask of hatred as her lips formed a straight line. She slowly shifts her eyes glaring at Adalynn, “Adalynn you know you shouldn't be going in people's offices unannounced...oh I'm sorry were we interrupting something?”

“Well I'm with a potential volunteer” I explained.

“Oh you skate?” She questions, raising her eyebrow. Bending down to Adalynn’s level she whispers something in her ear. Whatever it was; she must’ve been wanting to punish the child because a few seconds later Adalynn was away from Ms. Daisy and her desk.

I nod my head, straightening up in my seat. “Yes ma’am I do”

Ms. Daisy then interrupts, “How many years?”

“4” I reply back, I think about all of the medals I have won over the years of skating. My mother taught me to love the ice when I was a little girl, I would spend hours outside. I would be standing at the bus stop waiting for the school bus when me and a couple of the other kids would use our shoes as ice skates just sliding around on the street. She spent her whole paycheck just to get me ice skates, it was because of her pushing me to do something I loved; I continued to pursue it throughout the years.

“Oh...wow that's a long time” Natasia stammered, blinking a few times and giving me a forced smile. She reaches for the child’s hand; once their hands were connected, her feet turn to the exit bringing Adalynn with her. “Come Adalynn we need to get you stretched and ready for your lesson”

Adalynn, who was currently trying to keep up with the pace of her grandmother  turns her head and waves at Ms. Daisy. “Bye!!”

Ms. Daisy stands up and walks back over to the office door closing it, while walking back to her desk she shakes her head. Her eyes closed briefly as she whispers something to herself. She then looks in my direction. “Sorry we were interrupted….so you said 4 years?”

I nod “Yes that’s right”

“So about your previous experience…”

My mind goes elsewhere as I bite the inside of my cheek hoping this interview would soon be over but I could tell she was just getting started. I look up at the clock as I see the minute hand moving slowly around the case and past the various numbers.

This is going to be a long interview.

¤ ¤ ¤

Walking past the various buildings where all of the current students at UW were attending, I venture on to the common grounds of my campus. Spotting my group of friends who were currently stuffing their faces with the food from the cafe. The cold crisp air fills my lungs as I walk over to them.

Henry with his cigarette resting on his ear was going on one of his rants as usual, I give him a nod as I walk up to them taking a seat next to Nova. “Hanging out is dating, that's what dating is now”

My other friend Obasi chuckles, his eyes green like an emerald peered over at Nova. “Dating is sweat palms, hot thighs”

Violet who was currently eating a chicken salad, rolls her eyes at the two men. “You guys are crazy”

Henry continues “Couples are a dead concept, all meaningful social interactions are meaningful in a group” While fishing in his pocket for his lighter, Nova stood up grabbing it off the the icy ground where it lay for probably the whole time they were out here. She uses her thumb to roll the metal spark wheel; a flame rises up from the black lighter.

“Your always dropping that damn thing” She grumbles.

Kissing his teeth he grabs the cigarette behind his ear, putting the piece of tobacco up close to the flame. “Yesenia you think this is a date?”

I chuckle, seeing there was no money in my wallet I look over at the cafe and turn back around to face him. “You paying for my lunch?”

Exhaling the smoke he winks, placing his right hand on my thigh. “I don't know….am I gonna score later?”

I start to laugh out loud while pushing his hands which were covered in paint away from my leg. “What? This is only our first date!”

With the snow cleared from the sidewalk thanks to the city of Madison. Wesley and his hover board came rushing in, he was coming pretty fast and he lost his balance, his books/papers flew everywhere. After laying in the snow laughing at himself he jumps up, his knees now wet with snow from the fall. Nova and I help gather all of his papers as he grabs peanut butter crackers from an picnic table which happens to be near us, tearing the snack open he stuffs 2 crackers in his mouth,  “Don't you just love college...free friends...free food, hell you even get a bed and all you have to do is go to a couple of classes and do some papers”

Violet while chipping at her nail polish gives Wesley a thumbs up, “It looks like your financial aid went through”

Giving Obasi a high-five he grabs his books from off the ground and sets them on table. “Damn right it did, full-ride baby”

This caught my attention, I never got a letter in mail about anything dealing with my financial aid yet. “Wait did everyone get theirs?”

I notice everyone’s eyes are on me, they all look dumbfounded by my comment, Nova speaks up, “Of course...papers went out like 2 weeks ago”

I let out a huff while reaching in my bag to get my phone out I start to text my mom to find out if there was anything in the mail for me. “What?”

 Placing my free hand on my forehead I tuck my hair behind my ear, pinching my eyes shut. I know I filled the application out 1 month ago, I then start to get irritated with that fact that my mother wasn't replying fast enough. I go to my student email account not seeing any new messages I decide to find out what happening for myself. I know the financial office is still open, I tell everyone a quick goodbye when I sprint towards the building.

Once inside I’m met with a student who was working at the front desk, she told me to fill out the sign in sheet and wait for my name to be called. It was a numerous amount of people sitting or standing in the waiting room to also be called. I see a woman who looks middle aged, carrying a small infant in her lap. I smile at the tiny human, admiring its hazel eyes; the child babbles at me while reaching its hand out.

After about a hour of waiting and the room is damn near empty I hear my name be called. Looking up I see my financial adviser, we walk to his office and when he shuts the door he explains to me about how his office never received my application.

I place both hands on the desk gripping the sides while glaring down at him, “You can't just stop my aid, I'm graduating next year!”

“I'm sorry-”

I slam my hands on the desk, “You need to give me my money!! I'm not going to just sit here and let this happen to me just because some stupid idiot lost my application”

Shaking his head does his best to calm me down, grabbing me a water bottle from his mini fridge. Turning around to his filing cabinet he looks for my name but doesn't see anything, As he turns back around and faces me, his mouth curves into a frown.  “Listen Yesenia I'm sure this will all work out the way it should...there must be some other way that you can pay for school”

I scoff taking a deep breath in and back out, taking my phone back out I start to check my messages I say lowly to myself, “Yeah right….only a miracle could make that happen.”

¤ ¤ ¤

I was placing the acrylic fake nail on my middle finger when I hear running from the outside of my dorm room door. I hear the little beep that occurs when someone is coming in. My hair in a messy ponytail I could feel a few tendrils that don't want to stay put fall onto my shoulders.

“I got a 911, girl what is going on?” Nova came running towards me, the her ROTC uniform still on.

I continued to press the fake nail on top of mine, with a frown etched on my face. “I might not be here for graduation”

Nova who took off her cover placing it on her side of the room walks back over to me, resting her chin on my head she asks, “What? Why?”

“My financial aid didn't kick in” I look up at her, almost on the verge of tears. “Now I have no idea how to pay for school”

“Eggs” Nova answered bluntly.

I take my right hand wiping away a non-existent tear, I sniffle a little before repeating what she just said to me. “Eggs?”

She nods taking her hand and placing it near my stomach, motioning around my lower half, “Yes like your eggs”

Now I understand what she’s talking about but I thought that was just myth. I press the acrylic nail hard on my nail making sure it's secure, I turn around in my swivel chair away from my desk. Quipped a brow as I look up at Nova, “People pay money for other people's eggs?”

Nova, stepping back from me; grips the edge of the chair rolling her neck replies, “Hell yeah…do you know how many people want babies?”

“So you basically sold kids?”

“Yesenia it's not human trafficking, they are just eggs” She continues. “The money is good plus the feeling you get after looking at the parents faces well that's even better

“Do you know a place?” I ask, I start to paint my nails.

“Yeah I do, but you could also do the other thing…” She trails off while walking into our bathroom I see her grabbing a few makeup remover wipes.

That grabs my attention,“What other thing?”

“Surrogacy”

I turn up my nose, “Like carrying someone else's baby?”

Nova walking out the bathroom changing out of her uniform, “You make more money doing that.”

I mumble while placing the nail polish brush back into the bottle, “I'll think about it”

Nova turns to me, “But if you want to know the place is called Gifting Miracles”

“Thanks” I rise up from the chair, my wet nail polish still on my hands I give Nova a quick air hug.

Rubbing my arm she offered a radiant smile, “Hey you know I got you girl”

Maybe carrying a baby wouldn't be so bad.

A/N: I know this was a really long first chapter but I just wanted this first chapter to be very informative on my different characters. I don’t exactly know when the next chapter of this will be up but I appreciate if ya’ll would be patient with me. Also Happy New year my lovely angels!!! I know 2019 will be filled with happiness and more opportunities coming your way!

[edxwin-elric]

Morning After

Checkmate Ch. 3

Rating: M

Pairing: Royai/Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Word Count: 4425

Chapter Title: Morning After

Description: Royai multi-chapter/modern/BDSM AU where Riza, a cautious submissive, met Roy, an experienced Dom, and now there is sex with future romance potential.

A/N: This one is not smut. It’s more exposition and hints at romantic feelings. There are some smut allusions though.

tag || first || ffn || ao3

previous || next || ch. 3.5 (havolina)

Riza

A large hand slides across my back and around my belly, and I make a disgruntled sound.

“How are you feeling this morning?”

I mumble something unintelligible and curl up into a ball around the pillow I’m holding. Roy laughs softly behind me and strokes my neck, making me jump.

I wasn’t totally expecting to sleep in the same room. The same bed. But after he cleaned me up, he slid a t-shirt over my head and brought me up here. To be fair, I didn’t put up much of a fight. I like being with him.

“I thought you might want the first shower,” he speaks up again.

“What time is it?” I groan.

“After ten. You didn’t have work or something did you?” He frowns down at me.

I shake my head, rubbing my hair across the mattress.

“No…” I yawn.

Though, my dog will be wondering where I am if I don’t get home soon. But he’ll be all right for a little bit on his own.

“Seriously, Riza. How are you feeling?” he repeats the question in a low tone, and I open my eyes.

“You mean…about last night?”

He nods, and I feel my face heat.

“I’m fine,” I assure him, scooting back, so I’m leaning on the pillows behind me. “I don’t hurt or anything.”

“You’re sure?” He reaches out and cups my jaw, and I swallow at how nice it feels. “I don’t want you to hide anything from me. Even if it’s embarrassing, or you’re just shy about it.”

I don’t tell him it’s a little late to start getting embarrassed in front of him. That ship sailed the night we met.

“It’s sore,” I admit, looking down. “But not bad. Really. I’m okay.”

“Okay, good.” He runs his thumb over my cheek and moves his hand. “This arrangement only works if there are no secrets. I told you that before.”

“I remember, Roy.”

“Right.” He stands and turns to look back at me, lying on the mattress. “I take it you don’t want the first shower?”

“No. You can have it.”

“Okay.” He starts to walk toward the bathroom but stops in the doorway and looks back. “There’s coffee in the kitchen,” he informs me over his shoulder.

I blink in surprise before I catch sight of his sleep pants on the floor. My eyes snap up only to watch his firm ass disappear behind the steamed-up shower door. I bite my lip and look down, feeling a rush of heat between my legs.

I turn and slide out of the bed, stretching my arms over my head. I flinch when I feel a draft on my ass and look behind me. The shirt Roy gave me is unbelievably soft if not entirely long enough. I drop my arms and shuffle out into the hall and to the stairs. I freeze halfway down when I smell syrup. Frowning, I go the rest of the way to the kitchen, where I stop in the doorway and stare.

He said there was coffee. He failed to mention there was also bacon, scrambled eggs, orange juice, pancakes, and toast. How did I not smell this earlier? What time did he get up to start preparing all this? I mean, I knew he could cook since he’s mentioned it several times, but… And just how much food does he expect me to eat? There’s enough here for twenty people.

I take a small step into the kitchen and inhale, the delicious scents of well-cooked breakfast filling my lungs. With a glance over my shoulder at the stairs, I grab one of the plates set out and begin filling it. I’m in the middle of dying and going to heaven from the pancake that is melting in my mouth when I hear Roy behind me. I turn from my seat at the bar and watch him as he saunters into the room and goes straight to the coffee pot. My eyes travel from his damp, messy hair down the line of his bare back to where his pants are hanging loosely on his hips.

Yum.

“Good morning,” he says in a low voice as he turns to face me, sipping coffee from a dark mug. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” I nod, feeling unsure again of how to behave with him. “And, thank you. For breakfast.”

“Don’t mention it.” He shrugs and takes another drink.

“Is this, um, normal?”

“What?” He frowns. “Eating breakfast in the morning? Or–”

“I mean, do you usually cook breakfast for your subs?”

He doesn’t answer at first, taking a long drink of coffee and grabbing a strip of bacon from the plate. I watch as he chews, my eyes drawn to his insanely strong jaw. God. I’m getting wet just looking at him. Even his facial structure is sinful.

“No,” he murmurs finally.

“What?” I blink, my cheeks going pink.

“I don’t usually cook them breakfast. Nor do I buy them wine.” My eyes widen as he continues. “It’s also rare that I let them stay overnight. And even then, not in my bed.”

I feel all the air go out of my lungs, and I look down at my plate.

“But don’t read too much into it. I just have a fondness for you.”

What? What the hell does that mean?

I start to ask, but I don’t know how. And he doesn’t say anything after that. Just goes about his business, fixing a plate and sitting down on the stool beside me at the bar. As if he didn’t just confuse the life out of me.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” He turns to me casually before taking a bite of pancake.

“Uh.” I blink. “I… I have to walk my dog,” I answer lamely, still not entirely certain what just happened.

“I love dogs,” he says in a low voice. “So loyal. What breed is he?”

I frown.

“I’m not exactly sure, I guess. He was a stray one of my coworkers found, and no one else in the office would take him, so I said I would.”

“I see.” He nods. “So, what’s his name?”

“Black Hayate.”

He raises his eyebrows, and I immediately start trying to explain.

“I… He’s… It means ‘black hurricane’ in Japanese,” I mutter. “I don’t know why I… I like it. It fits him, I think.”

“Is he particularly destructive?” he goes on around another bite of food.

“No. He’s a very good boy.” I grin to myself. “But he’s stuck with the name now.”

We eat in silence for a few minutes until he speaks again.

“So, you mentioned an office. What do you do?”

“Oh, well. Um…” I swallow a bite of eggs. “I’m sort of between jobs right now.”

“Really? Are you looking for something? I might be able to find you a position at my firm. Though I suppose I should find out more about your skill set.”

I blush and shake my head.

“I’m really okay. Also, I’m not sure working with you would be the best idea.”

“Fair point.” He nods. “But go ahead and tell me about what you’re interested in. Or what you’ve done before.”

“I’m very organized, so I’ve taken reception jobs here and there. I was registered with a temp service for a while. Most recently I was a P. A. to a lady who started her own company… My father always wanted me to follow him into the field of scientific research. Specifically, chemistry. I’ll admit I’m good at it, but I didn’t care for it much.”

“What would you like to do?” he asks softly. “If you could choose.”

“I like flowers,” I admit, poking at a bit of toast.

“Flowers? You mean gardening or–”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a florist.” I turn to look at him. “I mean, I think arranging them would be interesting and calming, and flowers smell good… But I guess that’s sort of silly, since I don’t even own a flower vase.”

“Not if you want to do it,” he counters. “I think that sounds interesting.”

I sigh.

“Well, it’s either that, or I’m going to open a pet shelter.”

“Open one?” He frowns. “You mean start one from the ground up? That sounds expensive.”

“When my mother died, she left me some money,” I tell him on a shrug. “I could use that. I just don’t know.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “About your mother.”

“It was a long time ago. But…thank you.”

There’s another lull in the conversation where I finish most of my food, and Roy reaches across the bar to grab another handful of bacon. As soon as he drops the strips onto his plate, his phone buzzes on the counter, and I focus on my orange juice while he texts.

“I hate to have to cut this short,” he says slowly, “but it looks like one of my employees is having a crisis at the office. Nothing serious, but I’m going to need to go in and sort it out.”

“Oh.”

“Should we go ahead and make plans for our next meeting?”

A shiver goes down my spine, and I swallow. Right. I almost forgot, for a second, the nature of our relationship.

“I’m free on Wednesday and Thursday. This Friday I’m going out of town, and Saturday I have an engagement,” I mentally recall my calendar.

“Does Sunday work? Not tomorrow, but the next one.”

“I’m free all-day Sunday,” I murmur.

“Then let’s schedule it for then. I’ll text you later with a time.”

“Okay. I’ll go ahead and get changed.” I start to stand when he stops me with a hand on my thigh.

“You’re forgetting something, Riza.”

What? I blink.

“I am?”

“I haven’t given you your homework yet.”

My heart jumps into my throat, and I have to steady myself with a hand on the counter to keep from falling off my stool.

“Right,” I whisper.

He looks at me thoughtfully for a second before he shakes his head.

“Go ahead and get dressed. It’ll give me time to think.”

I nod and start for the stairs, ignoring the way my entire body feels hot and off balance. I’m afraid I’ll trip, but somehow, I manage to stay upright all the way to his room.

Roy

When she comes back down, I’m still sitting on the stool where she left me, the struggle to decide what assignment to give her still going on in my head. There are just too many things I want from her. To do to her. Ways she makes me hard.

Fuck.

“Have you, um, decided?”

I jerk my head up to find her standing in front of me wearing her clothes from last night. My eyes catch on her chest where the rosebuds on her bra are poking through. My cock hardens instantly. When I remember the matching thong, I almost groan.

“Roy?”

“Do you have a toy?” I grunt.

“What?” she whispers.

“A toy,” I repeat more clearly. “Do you have a toy?”

“I’m…not sure what you mean?”

“Something you use to get yourself off when you’re alone. A vibrator? Or a dildo?”

I watch her lips part in surprise, and damn if my already hard cock doesn’t turn to steel.

“Um, yes, I have a vibrator,” she admits, swallowing.

“What kind?”

She reaches a hand up and pushes her hair behind her ear.

“It’s, uh… It’s a g-spot, um, dildo vibrator,” she confesses. “It’s purple.”

“It resembles a penis?”

She nods once. “It’s not quite as big as yours,” she murmurs, and I suppress a laugh.

“Is it strictly for vaginal use?”

I watch her cheeks pale slightly.

“Riza?”

“It, um… I can use it on my nipples, my clit, my, um, pussy, or…in my ass.”

Fuck. I need to get my hands on this toy.

“Did you use your toy this week? After you sent me my pictures?”

She closes her eyes and nods, making my cock throb painfully.

“For your homework,” I start off, sliding off the stool, hoping to relieve some pressure, “anytime you’re wet this week, whether from thinking about our sessions or any other reason, and you’d like to use your toy to take care of it, you are to call me.”

“Call you?” she whispers.

“I’ll make sure your needs are met,” I promise, my voice dropping. “But I’ll be talking you through how I want you to use your toy.”

She bites her lip, and my eyes drop to where her thighs are clenching together.

“Are you wet right now?” I ask in a low tone.

She starts to nod.

“Yes, Sir,” she murmurs.

“Good. If you need to use your toy when you get home, you know what to do.”

“Yes.” She nods again.

“Oh, and before each call, I’ll want both a photo of your toy and the wet spot on your underwear.”

“Yes, Sir.”

I take a deep breath and roll my shoulders.

“I’ll see you Sunday, Riza,” I tell her softly, dropping my dominant voice. “Have a great week.”

“Thank you, Roy.” She gives me a small smile and lets herself out of the apartment.

Fucking fuck.

I’m going to kill Havoc.

Riza

When I get home, Black Hayate is waiting at the door.

“Good boy,” I bend down and rub him behind his ears as he wags his tail at me. “Are you hungry?”

He lets out a short bark and turns to pad over to his food bowl. After I feed him, I lean against the counter and stare at my phone.

I need to call Becca.

I can’t call Becca.

I mean… I think I like him. For more than sex. That’s the kind of thing Becca would be good at helping me with. On the other hand, if I tell her about that, I have to tell her…all of it. And then—

But, I mean, she’s Becca. So…maybe she’ll understand? Or I could be vague and say I’m into kink…

That’s dumb. Becca would immediately demand details, so that wouldn’t—

My phone starts ringing in my hand, and I let out a small yelp and almost drop it when Becca’s face appears.

Like…did she know? How?

After a calming breath, I press the green button and hold the device up to my ear.

“Hey. I was just thinking about calling you.”

“Oh really? Was it something serious?”

“Maybe? I’m not sure. Did you need something?” I shift my weight, my nerves making me restless.

“I was on my way to brunch and thought you might want to come with me.”

“Um…sure. I’m not very hungry, but I would like to talk.”

“It’s a date,” she announces.

“Oh, and I need to take Hayate out, so if we can find a café, that would be great.”

“I have one in mind. I’ll text you the address.”

“Thanks.”

She hangs up, and I go about getting my dog set for his walk.

When I arrive at the place Becca picked, I find her sitting at a table under the cover of an awning sipping a steaming coffee drink.

“So. What did you want to talk about?” she opens before I even sit down.

“Well…actually, it’s about Roy.”

“Ooh! Tell me everything. How was it last night?” she gushes.

I feel my face getting warm, and I distract myself by looking down and looping Hayate’s leash around my chair leg.

“That dirty?” Becca pipes up again, and when I meet her eyes, she’s giving me a deeply suggestive look.

“I… It…” I swallow and rub my palms over my thighs. “That isn’t what I wanted to discuss,” I mutter. “It’s more… Well, up until now we’ve been seeing each other strictly for sex–”

“And I’m so damn proud of you for that.”

“But,” I say over her, “this morning he made me breakfast, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t part of his usual morning after routine as far as booty calls go.”

“Riza Hawkeye: A Booty Call. What is this world I live in?” Becca sighs and looks up dreamily.

“Of course, that’s the part you got hung up on.” I roll my eyes. “Anyway, I’m confused. I need advice.”

“You like him,” she says cheerily, setting down her mug.

“Well, yes.”

“No. You like him. Not just his big dick.”

“Maybe, but I don’t–”

“And you think he likes you, but you’re not sure, and now you need to know because if he doesn’t, things will get totes awkwardville.”

“That is not a thing people say.”

“But it’s still true.” She takes another sip of her drink as her food arrives, and she beams up at the cute waiter.

“Whatever,” I mumble pointlessly.

“This is perfect,” she tells me after we’re alone again. “Jean just called to let me know he’s going to have the next few nights off. Now you can invite Roy Boy to double date with us.”

“Uh, Becca, didn’t you hear me? I don’t really know if he feels like I do. I mean, he might just want to fuck.”

And spank me. And blindfold me. And…

I squeeze my thighs together in my seat, and shift so I can cross my legs. I can’t think about this here.

“Then this will help us find out.”

“Well, not this week,” I reply. “I have things going on, and I need some more time to think about it before I decide to do anything drastic.”

“A double date isn’t drastic.” She waves her fork around with a bit of salad on it. “Sex without a condom is drastic.”

I frown at her and shake my head.

“Anyway, you still have to give me the details about last night.”

“No,” I state plainly. “I don’t. And I won’t.”

My panties are wet enough already without that going on again.

“Oh, come on! At least tell me what he thought of the lingerie.”

I sigh.

“He liked it. A lot.”

“Really? What did he do?” She giggles.

“His face got…sexier,” I murmur. “And when I looked down, there was a pretty serious bulge in his pants.”

“Damn, I need to meet this guy. Then what?”

“He sort of took his time taking them off of me. And then he fucked me. So…I’d say that was a pretty good sign.”

“Did you do it in a new position this time?”

I cough slightly and quickly recover before answering.

“We were on the couch this time. Missionary,” I tell her softly, my ass clenching at the memory of the plug. “But enough about that. Tell me about what you did.”

“Me?” She frowns. “I watched a few episodes of Friends and then used my rabbit to get myself off in the shower.”

“I guess it’s a good thing Jean will be off then.”

“Oh yeah.” She nods, smiling. “Tomorrow will be a full-on sex-a-thon.”

“Anyway, which episodes of Friends were you watching?”

I relax as she starts retelling me in great detail every line of the show between bites of her salad. I may still be unsure of what my feelings are about Roy—besides that I really like what we do during sex and also that he’s sweet when he isn’t making my body cry out in pain and pleasure at the same time. Sometimes even then. I mean, I do like him. Probably more than I should. I’m not sure exactly when that happened, but…

“Riza, are you even listening to me?”

I blink and look up at my friend.

“What?”

She exhales through her nose and gives me a disappointed look.

“Now I have to start all over.”

I grin to myself as she takes a deep breath before I reach under the table and pat my dog. For right now, I’ll try not to think about Roy. I don’t have to have everything figured out yet. Maybe when I see him on Sunday things will be clearer.

I bite my lip, thinking about what he might do Sunday night. I re-cross my legs and clasp my hands tightly in my lap, letting out a slow breath. I already know I won’t make it to Sunday without talking to him. At the rate I’m going, I’ll need to call him before dinner.

Roy

“Havoc,” I growl as I storm into my office. “You’d better have a serious fucking emergency on your hands to call me in like this on a Saturday.”

“It is, boss.” He stands from where he’s been leaning on my desk and looks me over. “Fuck. What’s wrong? You look ready to murder someone.”

“Well, yes,” I bite back, as I round my desk and fall into my chair, glaring up at him. “I was in the middle of having breakfast with a beautiful woman when you interrupted. So, if I look pissed, that would be why.”

“Oh.” He nods. “That explains it.”

He goes quiet, and I feel my jaw get tight.

“So why the fuck am I here?” I grind out. “Start talking, Jean. Or do I need to also tell you that the woman I was with was naked except for my shirt, and I had a whole different morning in mind.”

“Right.” He nods quickly. “Um, well, Madam Christmas called and the three guys she threw out last week came back again. This time they refused to leave and even threatened to hurt some of the girls who work the floor. They finally bailed after some of the other guys there forced them out, but she said the customers were freaked and the girls are shaken. As things stand, she doesn’t want to involve local police, but she wants a detail for tonight and asked that we do a little digging into these assholes.”

Shit. She probably called me first, but my phone was turned off because I was with Riza. Dammit. I’ll have to go by there and check on things.

“Thank you,” I tell him quietly. “This qualifies as an emergency, so you’re forgiven for ruining my morning.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“Now get out of my sight before I change my mind,” I grumble.

“Okay.” He starts for the door. “Oh, and before I forget, I’m not going to be available for the next three nights. Breda and Falman said they wouldn’t mind taking the job at Christmas’s though.”

“Good to know.”

I wave him away, and he disappears out the door. The last thing I want to do today is go visit Madam Christmas’s club. Not that I don’t like it there. I’m just not into the sex club scene these days. Plus, I don’t want to deal with her questions. Or the pleading looks from the subs who know I’m a Dom. I’m off the market, but they don’t know that. And I don’t think I want to take Riza to the club anytime soon. As much as I’d like to show her off, I like having her to myself more. And I doubt voyeurism is something she’s into.

Rising from my chair, I stride toward the door. The sooner I get this mess taken care of the better.

“So that’s really all I’ve got to go on.”

“That’s enough for me. Thank you.” I follow the lady out of the surveillance room and start for the stairs.

“Roy, wait. Stay for a drink at least.”

“I would,” I start, “but I have work to do–”

“You never come by anymore, and I’m curious about how you’re doing,” Madam Christmas interrupts. “Just one drink. On me.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Whiskey. Dry.”

“I know.” She grins, leading me down to the main floor.

I slide onto a stool as she pours.

“So, have you met anyone lately?”

I take the glass from her and swallow a good amount before answering. The question is her way of asking if I’ve picked up a new sub. Besides being the proprietress of this place, and therefore knowing about my tendencies, she’s the woman who raised me. Growing up in the backroom of a sex club makes it no wonder how I ended up a Dom.

“Maybe,” I answer her cryptically.

“You’ll have to bring her by.” She leans on the counter. “Unless you’ve branched out to men. Have you?”

I snort into my drink. “She’s definitely a woman.”

“Well. I had to ask.” She grins. “And you like her?”

“I’m breaking her in.”

“I mean you like her,” she repeats. “Not that she gets you off.”

I swallow the rest of the liquor and set my glass down.

“I don’t know,” I admit quietly. “She’s…different than any sub I’ve had before. Than any of the women I’ve dated. But I’m not sure that means I’m interested in pursuing something with her outside of our agreement.”

“You are,” she tells me knowingly. “I can see it on your face.”

“My face?” I frown.

She nods slowly. “You’re forgetting I watched you grow up. I can read your face like a book. And it says you have a crush.”

“Crush?” I scoff. “I’m a grown ass man. I don’t get crushes.”

She gives me a skeptical look, and I scowl.

“Maybe I have…an interest. But it’s not a crush.”

“What’s her name?”

I debate answering for a moment, deciding if that’s something I’m ready for her to know. Riza isn’t a very common name, and with technology today she can run a thousand searches on her before I make it back to my apartment. I should know. Fuery is already running most of those searches on the bastards that have been harassing the clients at this place.

“Roy–” she starts to say something, but as she does, my phone starts ringing.

When I look down at the caller, I’m instantly on my feet.

“Excuse me,” I mutter. “I have to take this.”

Without waiting for her response, I turn and head for the door, answering it as I go.

“Riza?”

There’s a pause where I just hear a soft breath panting on the other end of the line.

“Riza? Are you there?”

And then a text comes through. I pull my phone away from my ear to look at it, and I almost trip and fall. I quickly catch my balance and jog to my car. The images she sent burned into my brain.

“Riza,” I say quietly, folding into the driver’s seat.

“Sir?” Her soft voice goes right to my cock, and I suppress a groan.

“Let’s get started.”

[snarktheater]

Ready Player One — Level Two (Chapters 17-18)

“I’m not crazy about reality, but it’s still the only place to get a decent meal. —Groucho Marx”

Hey, at least the book isn’t quoting a fictional text that only exists in its own universe this time. That said, you know, when the quotes you give the biggest highlight to all have to do with how much the world sucks, it’s kind of killing my buzz about the whole “being alive” thing. Oh, and I guess it makes it look like you’re trying too hard to be edgy.

But I guess these are all shallow, surface problems. Let’s dig deeper as we enter Level Two and find out how much worse the infodumping gets. Because yes, it’s back in full force.

See, the book actually does justify splitting itself in multiple parts. At least for now. Specifically, it does so by way of a time skip. Well…sort of. More of a compressed time frame of a few months, which is mostly summarized to us through Wade and Artemis’s chatlogs.

Because, yeah, they’ve been chatting. Or, I should say, Wade has been harassing Artemis until she caved in and agreed to talk to him.

Parzival: Yes! Hey! I can’t believe you finally responded to one of my chat requests. Art3mis: Only to ask you to cut it out.

I will skip over the ensuing banter, because yes, of course they start bantering in spite of Artemis making it very clear she does not want to talk to him. Banter which pretty quickly takes a deep, hard dive into…questionable territory.

Parzival: So you’re telling me, definitively, that you are a female? IRL? […] After analyzing the available data, I’ve concluded that you must be a female. […] Because I don’t want to find out that I’ve got a crush on some 300 lb. dude named Chuck who lives in his mother’s basement in suburban Detroit.

I think there should be a ban on men using the word “female” as a noun. Preferably until the end of time. The correlation between that and misogyny is too high. Although, I don’t know, maybe it’s a useful alarm bell.

Artemis challenges that, and expresses suspicion that he wouldn’t care about her personality, and not “the package it comes in”. Parzival claims that he totally does, and…put a pin in that, we’ll get back to it in a short moment. But first, Artemis flat-out rejects the idea of engaging in romance with Wade, mostly on the grounds that he doesn’t really know her, only the side of her she lets him see. Which is fair, although I’m not sure if you can really act like that’s only true online (or even more true online, in their world at least).

But if you think rejection is going to deter Wade “I have stalked this girl for years on her blog” Watts, well…I mean, refusing to take no for an answer is how this chapter started, so you know that’s not happening.

So he insists. And insists. And insists some more. Oh, and did you know the Sixers tried to blow up Wade’s trailer?

Art3mis: You shouldn’t reveal stuff like that! I could be a Sixer spy trying to profile you. Parzival: The Sixers already profiled me, remember? They blew up my house. Well, it was a trailer. But they blew it up. Art3mis: I know. I’m still freaked out about that. I can only imagine how you feel. Parzival: Revenge is a dish best served cold.

You sure sound torn up about it, Wade.

Yeah, the book is basically going to flat-out ignore the ramifications of Wade’s house blowing up and him being forced to move to a new location and forge himself a new identity. No consequences—not practical ones nor emotional ones. It’s especially weird, because…moving to Columbus on the money he earns through his endorsement deals was already his plan to begin with. If the only purpose was to get Wade from point A to point B, the setup was already there. But since there’s no other consequences to IOI blowing up his home…what was the point of IOI blowing up his home? From a pure storytelling perspective, I mean? I’m just puzzled at this point.

Somehow, Artemis is still talking to Wade, so they start playing a game of one question each. We do learn that Artemis is 19 years old, studying poetry and creative writing in college. Not very important information, but it’s something. Assuming she’s telling the truth, but I’m sure she is.

And now, we get back to that “Wade doesn’t care about the package Artemis comes in, only her personality”. With bonus transphobia!

Parzival: […] Now, spill it. Are you a woman? And by that I mean are you a human female who has never had a sex-change operation? Art3mis: That’s pretty specific. Parzival: Answer the question, Claire. Art3mis: I am, and always have been, a human female.

I…hopefully don’t need to explain the problem with this, right? It’s basically transphobia 101: he states that trans women aren’t women, or at least not “really” women; he overfocuses on their body and specifically genitals (using some outdated and offensive terminology even by 2011 standards, I’m fairly certain); and they both equate genitals with gender, since Wade acts like you can only even be a woman post-transition, and Artemis’s response implies that pre-transition trans women aren’t women.

But it’s even worse in the light of that thing I told you to put a pin on. Because if Wade doesn’t care about her body, only her personality…shouldn’t it not matter that she’s trans? Hell, shouldn’t it not matter that she’s trans and pre-transition? And if he does care about her genitals, shouldn’t it still not matter that she’s trans if she’s post-transition?

I’ll stop this discussion here before I myself get too close to talking about trans people’s genitals. All I’ll say is this: if you think the transphobia is an isolated issue, you’re not thinking hard enough. With this statement, Wade doesn’t just prove he doesn’t consider trans women as real women, he also establishes that he does care about Artemis’s body.

It’s easy to make a grand statement about how you love women no matter how they look. It’s much harder to maintain that stance in how you actually talk to and about women. It’s a similar problem that plagued the Nerd Porn Auteur poem: it’s one thing to say you want all women and all body types to be viewed as attractive, but when the rest of your poem clearly establishes that you just want to enforce your own standard, it belies your thesis statement.

For the record, I knew this quote was coming, but it’s still awful to read, especially in the context of this guy harassing her into talking to him in the first place, and repeatedly making advances at her in spite of her constant rejection.

You’d think there would be some lull in the misogyny in this book, but apparently that’s a tall order.

Finally, Artemis says she has to go, and says they shouldn’t talk again until one of them finds the egg. Wade’s reaction?

Parzival: Can I at least keep e-mailing you? […] You can’t stop me from e-mailing you. Art3mis: Actually, I can. I can block you on my contact list. Parzival: You wouldn’t do that, though. Would you? Art3mis: Not if you don’t force me to. Parzival: Harsh. Unnecessarily harsh.

You’re literally saying you’ll harass her more, so…no, clearly it’s not “unnecessarily harsh”, it’s exactly the right response.

So of course, after a scene break…

I started e-mailing her.

Yup. He starts emailing her weekly, and Artemis, for some reason that’s totally unrelated to being written by a man who’s likely never experienced that kind of harassment and also has no empathy for the people who do, replies to him. Well, not just replies to him; she starts going back and forth and goes all the way to meeting him in private chatrooms.

We played vintage board games, watched movies, and listened to music. We talked for hours. Long, rambling conversations about everything under the sun. Spending time with her was intoxicating. We seemed to have everything in common. We shared the same interests. We were driven by the same goal. She got all of my jokes. She made me laugh. She made me think. She changed the way I saw the world. I’d never had such a powerful, immediate connection with another human being before. Not even with Aech.

For the record, while this is still pretty shallow character and relationship development, I feel like this might be the closest we’ll get to fleshing things out in this book. This is as good as it gets. Or…as good as it’s gotten so far, I should probably say. I have my expectations for what comes next, but it’s wrong to assume, kids.

Speaking of rushed relationship development, we’re now in full skimming mode, to the point where Wade and Artemis now share their research regarding the Hunt, even though that’s basically antithetical to both their established characters. Is this what love is for straight people, becoming the opposite of who you were before? No wonder they have so many hang-ups about marriage.

Wade also tells us about how he missed his graduation and got his diploma by email, and…you gotta wonder at which point the Sixers will catch on to him still being alive, you know. I mean, the endorsement ads with Parzival, I can get that these could go on with Wade dead. But school? Did nobody even bother to identify the corpses in the stack?

If you think I’m asking this for something utterly trivial, don’t worry, we’ll get back to that too. But enough about the plot; I guess we’re giving up on it now.

When I finished school, I’d intended to devote all of my time to the Hunt. But all I really wanted to do was spend time with Art3mis.

Yeah. The girl’s what distracted you from the Hunt. Not the attempt against your life, though. That barely registered as a blip on the radar.

We also get a brief recap of Wade leveling up to 99, the maximum level in the OASIS. This includes a description of a quest where he and Artemis play as characters from the Goonies. And you might be wondering: wait, weren’t the flicksyncs supposed to be this revolutionary new feature? Well, apparently all the quests in the OASIS (or most of them, anyway) are also based on just…replaying the story of existing properties. In fact, it’s starting to look like the OASIS has two types of planets: the ones built by players, like IOI’s planets, and the ones that are built to match existing properties. Which begs the question: what was the OASIS’s launch content, when it had neither of these? Just the starting planet and Ludus?

Anyway, the book suddenly remembers about the Easter Egg, in the most random of fashions imaginable: by having Wade go on a rant about how there are no longer toys in cereal boxes.

It was a tragedy, in my opinion. Another sign that civilization was going straight down the tubes.

Yeah. Toys in cereals, the true canary in the civilization coal mine. Good job there.

But anyway. From this, Wade remembers a hacker from the ’70s (and…yeah, the 70s are fair game all of a sudden) who took on the moniker Captain Crunch, who used the toy whistle from the eponymous cereal to hack into analog phones. From this, wade decides that “the captain” and “the whistle” in the Quatrain are references to…the cereal. Not the hacker. Sure sounds to me like you’re stretching the guess a little far there, book.

I mean, even if he’d stuck to just making the connection, this is still just the character getting divine inspiration to solve the puzzle. Nothing of actual import causes this reveal. This passage is literally introduced as “Then, one morning” and him thinking of the connection. Because, you know, it’s not like giving your readers a riddle they’re able to solve along with the characters would keep them engaged or anything.

And with that random epiphany out of the way, we’re back to a whole lot of nothing, since Eureka moments are apparently the only way Wade solves any of the riddles. And by “nothing” I mean more obsessing over Artemis, and how he wants to meet her face to face, even though earlier this chapter he wouldn’t even send her a picture of himself.

I was certain she had strong feelings for me, but she also kept me at a distance. No matter how much I revealed about myself to her—and I wound up revealing just about everything, including my real name—she always adamantly refused to reveal any details about her own life. All I knew was that she was nineteen and that she lived somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. That was all she would tell me.

You know, the impression I’m getting from this is that you misread her completely and she’s not interested. I mean, she keeps rejecting your attempts at communication unless you pressure her so much that it’s easier to just talk to you, and she won’t give any personal detail. That does not strike me as someone who’s into you.

Wade also grows distant from Aech in this time, because fuck friendship now that he has a woman to stalk, I guess. I mean, of course, they barely qualified as friends in the first place, so…no big loss there.

Somehow, without my realizing it, my obsession with finding Halliday’s Easter egg was gradually being supplanted by my obsession with Art3mis.

I was informed that I used the “Big red flags” gif too soon last time, and…yeah, I’m seeing why now. This is just the worst case scenario. You’re romanticizing some really unhealthy behavior there, book.

And it keeps going. They go on dates now! In the OASIS of course. And they do so in spite of Artemis protesting that it’s not safe for Wade to make public appearances, since, again, IOI wants him dead. Plus, they’re afraid of tabloids.

But there was one exception. One night, she took me to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show in a huge stadium-sized movie theater on the planet Transsexual, where they held the most highly attended and longest-running weekly screening of the movie in the OASIS.

Oh dear. Let’s…let’s move on. I’m not touching the fact that the book dropped Rocky Horror in the same chapter as it featured an incredibly transphobic statement. Someone more qualified will have to take that one.

That night was easily the most fun I’d ever had in my life up to that point. I told Art3mis so afterward, and that was when she leaned over and kissed me for the first time. I couldn’t feel it, of course. But it still set my heart racing.

Yes, yes. I know. Obviously the book means for her to be into him and all my earlier ranting about her not being interested was wrong. Ha, ha. Except, you know, not. Of course she’ll fall for him—she’s designed to, as the love interest. The issue is with what the book chose to portray as her being interested. That is to say, her showing every sign of disinterest. Which is rape culture. No, I’m not mincing words—it is. Equating a woman’s constant rejection to her being into you is exactly what rape culture is about. If you look at what rapists say when on trial, the defense is almost always a variation on “I thought she wanted it”. So this book, providing a fantasy where she really is into it, deep down…yeah, it’s rape culture. And if that phrase sets off your triggers and you have a problem with that, big whoop, just re-read the paragraph and skip them this time. The message still stands.

Thankfully, we don’t have to deal with them being together for too long.

And then one night, like a complete idiot, I told her how I felt.

Well, mostly because the book probably couldn’t handle writing a romance where the characters actually are together for very long, what with its inability to write emotions. But sure, let’s go with “telling someone how you feel about them is an idiot move”. There’s no way that could feed into toxic masculinity or some bad relationship advice.

So, after this line, we get a chapter break, which I guess is supposed to act as a cliffhanger of sorts, since after that the book backtracks a little to set the stage. I’ll go over this quickly: remember Ogden Morrow, Halliday’s best friend? He hosts his birthday party in the OASIS every year, and it’s a big exclusive event, and of course the High Five are invited. Aech is busy, Daito and Shoto never enter a PvP area unless necessary, which leaves Artemis and Wade. Artemis wants to go, and Wade decides to as well to impress her or something.

She said she couldn’t pass up an invitation from Og himself, despite the obvious risks. So, naturally, I told her I would meet her there at the club. It was the only way I could avoid looking like a total wuss.

Wow. You big strong manly man. I’m sure she’ll swoon right into your arms and—oh wait, you ended the previous chapter by telling us you were gonna confess your feelings and it’d end badly. You kinda blew your load early there to be trying to milk some tension out of this there, buddy.

And I hear you. Back up, you say, a PvP zone? Yes! Ogden Morrow has his party in “the Distracted Globe, shortened to ”the Globe". No Shakespeare involved here, since he’s not from the 80s; instead, it’s a zero-gravity dance club. Except you can swim and dance in zero gravity, because this book for nerds didn’t think to research its physics properly. I mean, what are the odds that a bunch of nerds would criticize the science of your science fiction book, right?

And it’s also a PvP zone. I guess Ogden’s party runs on the honor system and hopes that no one is going to attack anyone here.

The book spends a massive paragraph describing Wade’s car to us. It’s a modified DeLorean crammed with references to other sci-fi movies, because apparently, the book doesn’t understand class. And yes, I’m forced to point out that Cline has a very real version of this car:

Which…okay, not the worst thing ever, I guess, but don’t you think it’s a little on the nose?

After this (and another paragraph telling us how everyone will want to steal his car, but it doesn’t matter, because he has a miniaturizing spell and keeps the car on his person, because MMORPGs letting you put your mounts in your inventory is not a concept that the author has heard of), it’s on to the party. In which Artemis and Wade name-drop a bunch of songs, and…dance. Kind of.

Her avatar lost its human form and dissolved into a pulsing amorphous blob that changed its size and color in synch with the music. I selected the mirror partner option on my dance software and began to do the same. My avatar’s limbs and torso began to flow and spin like taffy, encircling Art3mis, while strange color patterns flowed and shifted across my skin.

Is this someone’s kink? I’m extremely confused that this is the imagery you chose to go for, especially when the book tells us everyone else on the (spherical, zero-gravity) dance floor starts following suit and dancing as colored blobs.

After this, it’s time for the cliché slow dance, and Wade tells Artemis he’s in love with her.

“You aren’t in love with me, Z,” she said. “You don’t even know me.” […] “You only see what I want you to see.” She placed a hand on her chest. “This isn’t my real body, Wade. Or my real face.” “I don’t care! I’m in love with your mind—with the person you are. I couldn’t care less about the packaging.” “You’re just saying that,” she said. There was an unsteadiness in her voice. “Trust me. If I ever let you see me in person, you would be repulsed.”

Such foreshadowing. As for his statement…see my earlier rant about his transphobic statement.

Once again, Artemis keeps telling him no, Wade keeps insisting, and she decides they have to stop hanging out.

“Are you breaking up with me?” “No, Z,” she said firmly. “I am not breaking up with you. That would be impossible, because we are not together.” There was suddenly venom in her voice. “We’ve never even met!”

She’s right, of course. But before the book can linger on that detail for too long, let’s have the Sixers randomly attack the club! Which they do by sending troops inside, even though we established the game has nukes already and they could just make the whole place explode without wasting any avatars. Whatever. Fight scene time.

Then I realized that most of the Sixers’ incoming fire seemed to be directed at me and Art3mis. They were here to kill the two of us. […] I knew my own recklessness had brought them down on us. I cursed myself for being so foolish.

…Are you implying Artemis wouldn’t have been a valuable enough target? No, of course it’s all about you. Dick.

This scene, by the way, goes nowhere. It’s devoid of tension. Mostly because, before anything really major can happen, Ogden reveals that he apparently has god mode turned on, and fries all the Sixers in the club. Thus also making the attack entirely pointless. Well, unless Ogden does turn out to be the main villain and this is a showcase of the threat he is. Which I’m still somewhat convinced he might be. Or should be.

But anyway, when the dust settles, Artemis is gone, and Wade is sad, I guess. Boo hoo. Whatever shall he do, the object of his obsession is gone.

[faux-pas-intellectual]

Reasons why the bee movie sucks, aside from the obvious

Summary of the Bee Movie

Before we begin, let me run over the plot of the Bee Movie, because for many of us, the sheer concentration of bee-related puns is too overwhelming for any single person to power through. So, the bee movie starts when Barry B. Benson goes for his Bee College graduation, and goes through an orientation into the job market, which I’m sure we all wish we had. He gets upset at the fact that he’ll work until he dies, as we all are, and he decides to take a bit of a risk and join the worker bees—I’m sorry, Pollen Jocks on their job, a bit like he’s gotten a day-long internship with them. He then gets into a sticky situation (literally, he sticks to a tennis ball for a bit), but he gets saved by this human woman and florist, Vanessa Bloome. They get to know each other and hit it off, and by the end of it, Barry’s pretty head-over-heels for her, and so they start spending more time together. This is when Barry finds out that humans have been stealing and selling the bees’ honey, and he gets around to suing all of mankind, or honey-producers, at least, for their honey sales. Now, we all know that bees are integral to the pollination of flowers. Barry – a honey bee who literally saw and heard about pollination and its importance during his ‘internship’ – somehow didn’t consider the likelihood that bees not going out to pollinate flowers would cause flowers to start dying out. Which it does, although in a rather scientifically unsound amount of time. He and Vanessa then take a plane to a flower parade which has some of the last surviving flowers, and smuggle a parade float to have enough flowers to pollinate all the flowers in their city, or something like that. All the bees help them do just that, and they pollinate all the flowers, almost immediately bringing the wilting or dead flowers right back to life.

What Will Be Covered

Now, what exactly is wrong with the bee movie? Well, a lot. The obvious would be the very uncomfortable and largely criticized romance between a human woman and a bee. The second most obvious problem is the sheer number of really, really bad and frustrating bee jokes, both verbal and more subtle, visual puns. The bee puns are plenty, and the lady bees have beehive hairstyles, whereas the gentle-bees have buzzcuts. Aside from that, the entire movie is painfully scientifically unsound, from start to finish. And to add on to that, the sociopolitical message of the bee movie is, to put it lightly, a little bit questionable. But that last point will be a little lengthy, so we’ll cover some of the glaring inaccuracies of the Bee Movie first. Now, I’d rather do a lot of incredibly painful things before I rewatch the Bee Movie with the sole purpose of finding inaccuracies, but since I just watched it again about a week ago, I still have a pretty clear idea of what was rather noticeably wrong.

Scientific Inaccuracies

The Issue with Pollen The most basic grasp on how plants work will tip you off that there was something wrong with the Bee Movie’s understanding of pollen. When Barry follows the Pollen Jocks out to collect honey and pollinate flowers for the first time, one of the experienced bees tells him that they take some of the pollen from one flower, and sprinkle it onto the next. And that would be fine, except that when he demonstrates this, the bee gathers pollen from a daisy, and then sprinkles it onto a rose. Now, anyone who took science at the age of 11 will know that this isn’t how pollination works. The pollen grains contain sperm cells and, when met with the stigma of a flower, will fertilise the egg cells within the flower, and this will begin the process of the flower ripening into a fruit. Since this is the process of sexual fertilisation, the pollen grains will have to be from the same species of flower as the flower that it fertilises. 

Now, this isn’t the only thing that the Bee Movie gets wrong about pollination. There’s another thing that doesn’t quite make sense about pollination in this movie is the role it plays for flowers. The time lapse in the movie shows that within four days, the plants in the city have all started wilting rather drastically and visibly. Now this just isn’t right. Pollen, unlike water or sunlight, isn’t necessary for the survival of the individual plant. Pollination only needs to occur when the plants have to bear fruit, and produce offspring, usually at the end of spring and nearing winter, as seeds can remain ungerminated – is that a word? – until the time whereby the conditions are optimal for the plant to grow again. This, obviously, is specific to plants which can’t grow in the winter. Depending on the plant, this period whereby fertilisation is important depends on when the plant species’ flowering cycles and periods. So without pollination, plants will not just start to shrivel and die. And, anyways, bees aren’t the only way for pollination to happen. There are other things which pollinate flowers, too, like wind, and humans, and other nectar-sucking creatures like hummingbirds, so the flowering plant population would drastically fall without bees, for sure, but it wouldn’t all just die. 

But the biggest issue with all of the problems in how the movie depicts pollination is in one of the final scenes, where the bees are pollinating all the wilting and dying plants. The pollen, in this scene, acts like some sort of pixie dust, because sprinkling it on flowers and plants brings them all back to full health and a state of vibrant colours immediately. This is obviously not how pollination works, and not how pollen grains work. At all. In fact, it’s rather insulting to anyone under the age of 10 that creators of the Bee Movie think that pollen grains would magically resurrect literally already-dead plants, even with our beliefs suspended for this film about talking bees.

Somehow, even with all these issues regarding just pollination, there are other scientific inaccuracies within the movie. And these issues are much more integral to the movie itself. Specifically, there is an inaccurate representation of the biology of honey bees, throughout this entire movie.

Problematic Bee-ology The biology of bees isn’t in any way something that I expect people to know off the top of their heads, but I think it’s fair to expect the people writing an entire movie about bees to know, at the very least, the bare minimum about honey bee biology. So what did Dreamworks get wrong about bees in the Bee Movie? Well, everything, really. In reality, all male bees have no stingers, and have no job except for mating with the queen, after which, they’re killed by means of having their endophalluses -- which is the bee equivalent of a penis -- ripped out, alongside their abdomen. So who does all the work in the hive? Well, the worker bees do. They do all of the hard work, like collecting honey and protecting the hive. And all of them are -- you guessed it -- female. Every single worker bee is a female bee. So the Pollen Jocks, which look like an oddly buffed-up version of literally every other bee, should, in fact, be female. For that matter, every working bee in any of the largely arbitrary careers available to bees should be female. Male honey bees are just for mating purposes. So, really, the Bee Movie is what happens when people apply human societal norms to bees, while simultaneously expressing their hero worship for those with a masculine physique that’s considered ideal. And this explains why the Pollen Jocks are all male bees, with the inverted triangle body shape for men exclusively applied to them. It’s because some human people considered the bees which collect honey and leave the hive as to having a rather glamorous and very important job, and so obviously, it’s allocated to the muscular male bees. Who would have expected that the creators of Bee Movie would have applied human gender roles to bees? But this isn’t what I meant when I said that I would be covering the socio-political messages within the bee movie.

Questionable Implications

Somehow, the bees in the Bee Movie, despite being about a community of bees living in a hive under a ruling monarch which we never see, ultimately runs like a capitalist society, where the working class bees don’t get to keep what they produce, and they produce far more than they really need. As a result, the bees work till they die, which is actually what pushes our protagonist, Barry, into action that leads him to both meeting Vanessa and later, suing humans for selling honey without the knowledge of bees. A bit of an aside here, but the Bee Movie depicts beekeepers as evil and abusive towards bees. And recently, this has become untrue. In fact, a quick search will tell you that bees are not controlled by the beekeeper, and allowed to leave if they wanted. Usually, the bees actively choose to stay, because they recognise that the beekeeper’s hives are clean, dark and sheltered, which they like. Previous beekeeping practices have a lot of faults, which one should be wary of supporting since they're pervasive, even now. However, as the importance of bees is being more largely discussed, beekeeping practices have improved to aiding weaker hives to help with their survival which would previously have been more likely to die. In general, while some beekeeping practices are still not quite up-to-date, and beekeeping in smaller local practices tend to be better in that regard, having beekeepers does aid in the preservation of bees.

Now, back to the point about capitalism and bees. Barry B. Benson sues the humans and since bees have perfected their honey-producing process so that the bees have sufficient honey despite being exploited, it isn’t long before the process is able to stop entirely, with enough honey having been made to last the bees a long time. Barry’s friend Adam tells him how everyone has stopped working and is now merely lazing about, and expresses his grievances over the fact that his whole life had been leading up to contributing to honey production and contributing to the colony, and that Barry had taken that dream away from him. The well-deserved rest that the bees receive from the fall in demand for production and labour is presented with empty, desolate work stations, instead of the relief one would expect from finally getting a break from their tireless efforts which often costs them their entire lives. The situation worsens as the suspension of honey production means that the bees no longer have to collect nectar, and as a result, flowers die as they aren’t pollinated. We already know that this isn’t how pollination works, but we’ll just go along with it. The movie goes on and we end with bees coming to an agreement with mankind to allow humans to continue selling their honey, so that the bees can continue working themselves to death for the profit of an entity other than themselves, and maintain the natural order of things, or something like that.

Even after setting my own biases aside, there’s something inherently malicious with painting the portrayed bee society as both necessary and pivotal, the loss of which causing huge detrimental effects to the affected areas. When applied to the real world, the implication of this message is the justification and normalisation of a real and very harmful issue in many societies today. Unintentionally, the Bee Movie has sent a message of its support for labour with little rewards, and the justification of slaving away to produce beyond what is needed, to the point of numerous workplace hazards resulting in frequent deaths. While played off as comedy - ha ha, the bees die so often, a new job opens up every millisecond - it’s no laughing matter in the real world. Contemporary slavery is a dire issue, affecting almost 45.8million people around the world, and about a quarter of that is likely to be children, forced into child labour. Most of the work done by the impoverished have small returns for an immense amount of physical labour, and they are hardly sufficient for survival, much less comfort. In fact, many apply for jobs which adhere to extremely lax safety precautions, leading to a high injury and death rate, all for the sake of a relatively higher wage. People are being forced to exchange their safety and their lives for a pay that is still too low to lift them out of absolute poverty to this very day. The Bee Movie states that the bees’ revolt against producing honey to accommodate the wants of humans as ‘an unholy perversion of the balance of nature’. Under the assumption that the bees’ honey production is comparable to capitalism, then this isn’t true. Largely socialist countries exist, and amongst them is Finland, which has one of the highest standards of living in the world. Personally, I’m not of the opinion that having a high standard of living is an unholy perversion of the balance of nature, but it seems that others may disagree with me.

Conclusion

Overall, the Bee Movie is subpar. It isn’t even that enjoyable of a B-movie, considering its lacking humour which is built mostly on too many puns and no finesse, and the on-screen romance is uncomfortable. Consistent scientific inconsistencies are also a major issue, considering anyone under the age of 12 would already be aware of the process and use of pollination, and that it isn’t some magic fairy dust that brings plants back to life. The subtle sexism that exists in making the rightfully female bees all masculine and male is an unnecessary application of human society to a movie about bees, and yet the creators did not take into account the message it sent about the justification of a society that valued production over lives and how that could in turn be applied to human society.