#here have a random collection of images i found in my camera roll

[citizenerased77]

happy sim theory day to those who celebrate

[mingying]

[spoilers] hospital playlist s2 ep 11; ikjun/songhwa

I can’t believe this finally happened. And it happened in arguably the best ways possible for us IkSong shippers. As usual, this post is just basically my own thoughts and opinion of the episode and my interpretation of things - feel free to disagree, and I hope you enjoy reading this musing of mine!

22 years later, finally they found each other again <3

TL;DR: Everything happens for a reason and we have finally reached the rainbow end <3

Let’s begin by addressing the ER scene, but before that, I would like to point out that since Ep 10, Songhwa has been shown to be somewhat forgetful and a klutz - in Ep 10, she was searching for her socks and insisted that she wore them for her rounds. She also seemed to have forgotten to take off her surgical cap until Seonbin pointed it out to her.

In Ep 11, the episode starts off with Songhwa leaving her handbag in Ikjun’s office, and subsequently her handphone, followed by her handbag in the car again. This is not a dementia arc, guys (haha) but I genuinely think that this is her mind being occupied by her newly realised feelings for Ikjun that her normally composed self had started to crumble (and that’s entirely ok!). Another interpretation of this scene could be that unintentionally and subconsciously, she just wanted to remain in the hospital knowing Ikjun may return to collect his gift later.

Can I also point out her sixth sense in this scene? When she peered out of her window and heard the sound of ambulance, followed immediately by Dr Bong calling, she looked disturbed. Normally, she would have answered her calls immediately without hesitation but this time you could tell that she frowned and waited for maybe 2 seconds before answering Dr Bong. Well, never messed with a woman’s intuition I guess!

The ER Scene. Gosh. I actually have a lot of things to say about this. I know some people do not like this trope and that it is a typical trigger for characters to realise their feelings. But, I’d have to say that ShinLee did not intend for this scene to be a trigger of Songhwa realising that she likes Ikjun.

Because she already knows and had realised, somewhere around Ep 8-9 but more obviously 9, that she does like him as a man (all over again). If anything, this ER scene was meant to give Songhwa that one last push to confess, otherwise she may end up regretting not to. Another reason why I felt this scene was necessary was that Songhwa has been too comfortable in Ikjun’s constant presence by her side -- perhaps she has been wanting to confess but still lack the courage to and she didn’t think she needed to act on it rightaway because Ikjun would always be there by her side.

Gosh, the way she rushed to Ikjun and didn’t even hear Dr Bong trying to report to her that he actually wasn’t in such a terrible state. The way she slipped her hand in his and was so gentle in her questions - you can really just tell that she was trying her best not to crumble.

(side note: Jeon Mido, your acting was truly stellar during this scene. That suppressed professionalism vs personal feelings. I really felt her worry and regret in this entire scene. I loved it so much)

Now, why do I firmly believe that Songhwa already intends to confess to Ikjun eventually? Other than the fact that Songhwa herself confirmed during her confession that “I should have told you that I liked you”, it’s because of the Gift that she has given him for his birthday. It’s a cap, and initially we don’t think much of it until the flashback sequence showed and we realised that, a cap was what 99z Songhwa wanted to give to Ikjun but never did because he had turned her down for dinner and lied that he has a blind date.

Present day Songhwa gifting Ikjun a cap can be interpreted as her having let go of the hurt he had caused her in the past and that she was willing to try, again.

Interestingly, I’d like to also point out that the 99z flashback in this episode was truly necessary for us to understand Songhwa’s aversion to ‘Sad Sea’ and why she has rejected Ikjun in the first episode. 99z Songhwa didn’t give up when Ikjun stood her up for her birthday but mustered the courage to confess to him - she tried twice too, asking if he really has to go on that blind date that evening and couldn’t he go another time? Ikjun, in that scene, was playing Sad Sea. 

I would like to apologise to Ep 7 Songhwa because I had been frustrated with her then, but now that everything has been rolled out beautifully, I do not blame her at all for her hesitancy and year long passiveness. Ikjun kinda deserved it after breaking her heart twice (HA!) and remember this shot of Ikjun in Ep 7? 

I now interpret this scene as him realising that he knew Songhwa’s reasons of rejecting him. Because there was no way he didn’t know that Songhwa had liked him in the 99z, and he was perhaps regretting turning her down for dinner that day during his birthday. He knew he had a chance with her then but blew it, and that is perhaps why he never faltered in making Songhwa happy now. Not that he expects anything in return, but perhaps he wanted to make up for the indirect hurt he had caused her.

Bab Meokja had been something initiated by Songhwa back then. And now, it is a treat he gives himself -- I really do think that is the reason why he keeps asking Songhwa out for meals in the present time, because Ikjun probably wanted to indrectly make up for what happened in 99z.

Let’s move on to another great scene! The card game scene!

For some, it may seem to be a random scene but for me, I saw it in a different way and I’m glad Kfans and some users on Twitter pointed out this theory as well. 

As you all know, the card game IkSong was playing was “Bluff/Cheat”. Here, you could see that Ikjun could read Songhwa so well that he knows when she would lie. But Songhwa on the other hand, could not read Ikjun as well -- and this is further affirmed by Songhwa’s confession when she said “If your feelings for me haven’t changed,”. This is beautiful because it makes Ikjun’s expression during the confession scene even more sense -- a user on reddit pointed out that his expression at that time wasn’t more of a “omg she likes me after all”, it was more of a “she has realised her feelings for me,” and I think that’s absolutely beautiful. He even nodded subtlely a few times as Songhwa struggled to get her confession out, as if encouraging her and saying “you can do it, just a bit more”. 

Back to the card game - Ikjun even threw down a 9 Hearts - which I believe is a metaphor of his feelings for her, steady and still unwavering. 

(Bonus note: I absolutely love how Iksun caught on to them being lovey dovey at once and Junwan’s expression catching them was HILARIOUS)

On to my next scene which was absolute favourite.

Songhwa had finished a difficult/challenging surgery, and out of excitement (she even skipped omg whipped girlie), she called Ikjun first to convey the good news to him. Her tone here really depicts a difference in how she talks to Ikjun before. This scene alone tells you that Songhwa has pretty much fallen for Ikjun again and I love love love that finally she has someone she would want to immediately call to share her good news with! 

And the best part? Our best boy Lee Ikjun never went to Changwon. Instead, he waited for her for probably hours (it was bright day when they said goodbye, but night when Songhwa returned to her office) and even told her straight that he has to see her before he leaves because of how worried she had been before. Good lord find me a man like Ikjun please? 

image cr: iksongarchives @ twitter

This entire shot, with I Knew I Love playing in the background pretty much hits. It is in this exact moment that Songhwa has probably made up her mind to confess for real, that she wasn’t going to waste another second because I am sooo sure she would have ran to hug him if not because of their status at that moment. I love this scene so much. It is the personification of the lyrics of I Knew I Love, which goes “I called you out of habit today and you answered warmly, you make me the happiest in the whole wide world, I love you so much”.

And finally. 

Finally.

*takes a deep breath*

SONGHWA CONFESSED!!!!!!!!

AND THEY KISSED!!!! UNDER THE RAIN!!! 

The whole directing of this scene, with the slow camera panning into them - Ikjun was restless, probably breaking into cold sweats (he commented it was cold) while Songhwa was nervous and trying to muster enough courage to confess (she commented it was really hot). I held my breath for so long I felt like I was about to faint I swear to god.

Songhwa looked legit terrified that Ikjun was going to reject her man, and it all makes sense why after we got the 99z flashback this episode. 

And Ikjun, he really waited for her cues. Even after she was done confessing, he looked at her and waited for her to look at him back before he went “I’ll give you my answer”. And it was only after Songhwa nodded in fear and anticipation, that he swooped in to kiss her!!!!!

Songhwa definitely also leaned in first before Ikjun pulled her closer. She wanted this just as much as he did and it showed through their first kiss. Gosh I’m still shaking just thinking about how perfect that entire sequence and kiss was. They really went all out for it (yes I believe there was tongue involved) rather than soft and gentle. 22 years of suppressed yearning and feelings really popped out in that kiss alone and I am so blessed to have been a part of their beautiful journey.

And now, with only one episode left, we are finally able to see IkSong as a couple and on dates. I have a feeling Songhwa would be the clingy gf man, judging from the Preview keke. I cannot wait to see the rest of the boys finding out, and for sure, I cannot wait to see how their dynamics would change now as lovers rather than just best friends. I do think their transition would be seamless, only that now, they get to do what other lovers could.

This post is so long but I felt the need to address another matter that I have seen roaming around the internet. Apparently, some people are annoyed that Songhwa was ‘forced to change her mind’ and that we cannot accept her ‘No’ in ep 1. I would humbly and respectfully disagree on this point. Songhwa’s ‘No’ in ep 1 was not a “I don’t like you therefore I am rejecting you”. It was more of a “I do not know how to sort out my feelings yet, and am not ready to revisit the past, so it is best not to tamper with it”. 

Songhwa did not change her mind overnight or weeks. It took her one year and a few months. She has had all that time to weighs her decisions again and properly thought out how she wanted to bring forward her relationship with Ikjun. She was not forced.

She may have said that she liked being single in S1, but she has never been averse to love. In fact, she is always encouraging other people to go for it. I for one, am single and absolutely enjoying it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to ever change my mind if I find someone worthy enough to share my space and happiness with. I like being single now because guys around me are idiots and I’d rather save myself that headache LOL.

Her conscious decision to accept Ikjun now does not and will never invalidate her decision to reject him back then - in fact, it goes to show that as human beings, we constantly undergo character growth and our minds are often changed to suit the present circumstances. 

ShinLee did not portray Songhwa in that light where ‘women needs to say yes if a guy treats her right’. Ikjun did all of those things for her without expecting anything in return. He never once crossed the line and never once forced Songhwa into accepting his love for her. Songhwa said yes because she likes Ikjun and is now ready to move their relationship to that of romantic. It is as simple as that.

And one last point to make is that Songhwa being in a relationship does not in any way invalidate that she is a strong and independent woman. Please do not associate the relationship status of a woman to her being ‘strong/independent’. A woman in a relationship and a woman not being a relationship are still BOTH strong AND independent. Love is a universal element in life, why deprive a person of it simply because she’s portrayed to be a “strong” female character? If that love brings her greater joy and ardent happiness, why stop her from enriching her life further?

Anyway. I digress. 

If you made it until the end of this ridiculously long post, thank you. I hope it was an enjoyable read! Till Ep 12!

[junicai]

applause.

| order no. | 10/21

| summary | While filming for NCT2020, Aria fears her interview partner is coming down with a fever. Spoiler alert: He’s not. 

| word count | 1.8k

| warnings | None

| era | circa. December 2020

a/n: ok so i figured i’d mark my return to posting with a lil floof for the soul :) before i ruin it again :) so here u go here are two idiots being idiots :)

Oftentimes, it was easy to forget just how many members NCT had amassed over the years.  With the sub-units separated the majority of the time for their own promotions; the odds were that if you weren’t in a sub-unit with another member, you’d rarely interact with them outside of the company walls. 

NCT2020 was incredible in that sense. Twenty three boys and one girl, all in one room, singing the same songs and performing together. The impact left on the spring-flooring when they danced as a group physically shook the mirrors. 

They had a reputation to uphold; something which every single member took as seriously as a blood oath. 

Aria, over the years, had formed bonds with most of the other boys. She hadn’t really had much of a choice in the matter; it was either, make friends with the people around you, or have no friends at all. It was lucky, in that sense, that they were all so warm and welcoming. She found her home in the 127 dorms, and later, her family with the Dreamies. She wouldn’t trade it for the world. 

The fact remained, however, that when it came to Aria and WAYV - there was a gap. Be it because of the differing promotional schedules, or the fact that SM had point blank refused to acknowledge WAYV as a sub-unit of NCT up until the announcement of the NCT2020 promotions; the bottom line was, Aria didn’t know half of the members beyond their first name.

So, when the randomized name selection came out, and she was paired with Xiaojun; Aria took a deep breath, and reminded herself that this was a chance to start to form some new relationships.

She’d never been all too good at making friends as a child - always a little too shy, and then all of a sudden far too abrasive in a lost attempt to compensate for her earlier quietness. 

Sitting beside the boy in question, Aria left her hands tucked beneath her thighs to prevent herself from fidgeting. The air between the two vocalists was thick; and Aria found herself looking around desperately for Mark or Ten or hell even Yuta, even though she knew Dejun was significantly more scared of him than her.

Anything to break the awkward, stifling silence that was hanging over the both of them.

“Do you-”

“Hey, I-”

They turned to face each other at the same time, sentences blending together before being cut off abruptly. Aria’s face flamed beneath the foundation, and by the darkening tips of Dejun’s ears, she could tell his cheeks were flushing as well. 

“Go ahead.” He gestured with a nod. 

“No no, it’s okay! What were you saying?” Aria disagreed. 

“Uh, I was just wondering if you feel the breeze as well?” Dejun questioned, hands coming to tug his light jacket around his shoulders tighter. “It’s giving me goosebumps,” He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck. 

Aria frowned. “No? It’s quite warm in here I thought.” The pair were surrounded with several lamps that were shining large bulbs onto their faces. With the heat from them, and the blanket that she had tucked over the legs, Aria was toasty warm - but a quick glance at the thin material Dejun’s jacket was made out of had her untucking the corner and folding it out again. 

“Here,” She offered, holding out the edge of the blanket. 

“Oh no I can’t,” Dejun began to refuse, but a shiver ran down his spine, cutting his words up into pieces. 

Aria raised an eyebrow. He relented.

“Thank you.” He acquiesced, once the soft material had been laid over his lap. He was still shivering lightly, but the body-shaking tremors had worn off, so Aria was better pleased than she was a minute ago. 

“Okay!” A voice called from outside the set. “It’s just an interview, like you were both briefed. Feel free to take it where you want and - Aria can you just -” The director gestured to Dejun. “Don’t sit so far away, people will think you’re scared of him.” He teased. 

Coughing lightly, Aria scooched towards Dejun, the blanket bunching up in-between their legs. She could feel him leaning back slightly, as if he was afraid of their faces being too close together. 

“Little more.” He insisted, now peering at the two through the viewfinder of the camera. 

Aria shuffled into the middle of the set’s sofa, her knee lightly brushing Dejun’s thigh. 

“Better! Now just don’t look like someone’s about to shoot you.” 

Aria opened her mouth before schooling her expression back into something less, terrified. “Sorry!”

This close, she could see the light flush that sat high on Dejun’s cheeks. His eyes were slightly glassy, and his chest was moving at a moderately quicker pace than it had been a few minutes ago. 

Aria placed a hand on his arm, lightly, patting the exposed skin where he had rolled up the sleeves. 

The filming went as well as it could. As they were told prior to entering the set; it was just a couple questions on how they were getting on together as a group, what it was like performing as a mix of all twenty three members, recounting some entertaining tidbits from the practice room or from behind stage. 

Over the next hour, the icy feeling that had surrounded the two vocalists melted into a comfortable conversation, soon drifting away from the interview questions and flowing sweetly into a little chat that czennies were sure to adore. 

With Dejun now turned to face Aria completely, and Aria sitting back with her shoes kicked off and her feet tucked beneath her; they were solely focused on each other; like the cameras had stopped rolling a half hour ago (They hadn’t) and they were old friends, catching up (They weren’t).

Aria learnt that Dejun had a penchant for green tea lattes, and the number eight. He slept on the top bunk, and was a lot funnier than his members gave him credit for. 

Dejun learnt that Aria was a lot more accident prone than her ‘professional image’ would let on, that she has a dimple on her right cheek when she smiles, that when she smiles she beams - bright enough to beat out a lightbulb - and that her favourite colour was yellow and she still looked at the stars when she got homesick.

Aria learnt that Dejun wanted to travel to Paris one day, that he wanted to learn how to bake bread properly and that he stayed up too late playing games only to regret it the next morning every single time. 

Dejun learnt that Aria had an addicting laugh; and he wanted to hear it as many times as he could. That he wishes she’d let herself laugh for longer; that she wouldn’t lift her hand to cover her face as she giggled.

His cheeks flushed brighter, the tips of his ears now a bright red. 

“Dejun? Are you alright?” Aria leant forwards into his space, her face moving closer to his. She had noticed the poor boy’s flush over the course of the last hour; but the pink was slowly becoming a deep red, and her concern was deepening with it.

Dejun immediately pulled back; floundering. “Yeah! Yup, yes, absolutely fine.” 

“Pardon?” 

“I’m doing wonderful! Are you alright? Aria?” Dejun flipped the question on her, sweat beginning to bead beneath his fringe. 

Aria squinted at him, relenting. “I’m okay, yeah. Are you still cold?” 

“No!” The reply was sharp, and she jerked back a little. 

“Oh- okay- sorry?” Aria pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth, worrying the skin lightly. 

Dejun could have punched himself in the face, but he settled for pinching himself beneath the blanket where it was out of sight.

“Aaand, cut!” 

The two vocalists turned to the director who was grinning madly. “That was perfect, you two. I don’t know what you did, or where you pulled that from, but you’re definitely the best duo we’ve had in here so far.” 

Aria didn’t think that was hard, there had only been two other groups in before them, but she kept these words wisely to herself. 

“You’re both free to go! I’ll expect to be seeing a lot more of you together though, this is going to go down an absolute treat.” The director’s smug little grin reminded Aria of a cat who had gotten the cream; and her own little grin formed to match it.

“Thank you,” The two bowed lightly towards the staff, before collecting their things from the set and shuffling towards the door again. Once outside, they were silent again - but this time the lack of noise was not unsettling. 

“Hey I-”

“What about-”

Dejun and Aria looked at each other momentarily, before bursting out into laughter. 

“Okay that has to stop.” She giggled, hand coming to rest on his arm. 

“Agreed,” Dejun coughed out, ears flushing one final time. 

“You sure you’re feeling alright? You looked a little flushed back inside; that’s all.” 

“Fine!” He squeaked. “It must have been, uh, the lights, or something. Yeah.”

Aria puffed her cheeks out, but made no further comment.

Pulling away, she slipped her feet into the runners she was wearing for the interview - uncaring as to whether or not she’d accidentally break the backs of them. They were old ones, anyway, ones she’d been gifted as part of a brand deal that had fallen through; no wonder, she thought, as the shoes really were all look and no practicality. They were the least comfortable shoe she owned - and Aria owned a lot of uncomfortable shoes. 

“���Til next time?” She straightened up, head turned to Dejun.

He nodded, going to extend a hand as Aria stepped forward to wrap her arms around him in a hug. 

What followed, was a painstakingly awkward hand-body-shuffle-jerk dance that left Aria’s face flushed red from embarrassment and Dejun’s desire for the ground to open up and swallow him whole growing to immense proportions. 

Eventually, Dejun moved away, waved, turned on his heel and borderline sprinted away back down the hallway before Aria had a chance to return the wave. He rounded the corner, slowing to a stop in anticipation of slamming his head into the wall. However, thinking against it, Dejun instead turned to put his back to the wall, sinking down against it; lifting a hand to smack himself in the forehead. 

“Idiot.” 

[firewolf-pyro]

Episode four: The cash pot that was a pond

Enter scene- to see a multitude of diggers working in the muddy pit that used to be the pond. Left to right shows workers digging, pulling up alien tech, sifting through mud. Camera stops on mud covered boots and a muddy brown body length jacket of the investigator.

JONES- “This pond is the gift that keeps on giving.”

Camera- moves back and away as investigator speaks eventually stopping at his full body.

JONES- “We’ve got nearly three whole cyberman, bits and bobs from other alien tech- even a Santarin’s helmet. And we continue to find more - it’s like this is the alien’s local dump!”

Actions- states loudly with a massive grin. Hands are on his hips showing his proud status.

OLESIA- “I can’t wait to get all of this back to my lab- it would be interesting having some of that tech to play around with.”

Actions- Science woman is knee deep in mud looking at what could be a gun of some sort.

HENRY- “Don’t be so happy, now we won’t be able to leave this man’s property alone until we’re sure every last piece of alien tech is collected.”

Actions- at the edge of the pond shouts down to the two.

Camera- turns to their front so we can see the depth of the pond whilst looking up at them. See also mostly blurred in the background the dome light of a buried Dalek.

OLESIA- “As if I cared about some old rich coot’s property! I just want to get my grubby paws on all of this neat tech!”

Actions- cackles madly as she lifts another piece that could have been just some random piece of ship.

Scene cuts to- all members in their spots of their office. All are busy analyzing and processing different pieces of alien technology.

Camera -moves from left to right watching each member look over and write/type down what they have.

JONES- “So far?”

Actions- walks in from entrance towards their office.

HENRY- “So far we’ve found everything from Axon gifts to Keys of time pieces. But we haven’t found any sign of the missing police officer nor that package that delivery man tossed into the pond.”

Actions-cackles while setting what they are looking at down on the table.

OLESIA- “I still believe we should forget that pond and figure out where that orb wants us to go.”

Actions- pipes up from her desk.

JONES- “I already told you, we can’t leave that pond unattended. Who knows what else could be buried in that cash pot.”

Actions- stares down at her with arms crossed.

KENDRA- “Whatever is down there could be far more dangerous than a little glowing orb that occasionally makes people disappear.”

Actions- Sarcastically young man says from behind investigator.

OLESIA- “Everything we’ve found so far has been trash! Literally and figuratively alien trash.”

KENDRA- “I’d have to agree with Olesia on this one, Jones.”

Actions- pipes in spinning around to face the group.

HENRY- “What about the cybermen pieces? Or the gun shards?”

OLESIA- “War trash, it’s just as exciting as finding old tanks from World War Two in the middle of a cow field.”

Actions- rolls her eyes.

JONES-“Well like it or not, until we are absolutely sure every piece of alien technology is out of that pond- we can’t go forwards with that device.”

camera- follows him into his office. Door closes behind him roughly and camera swings back around to look at the trio.

OLESIA- “Okay, well if you two aren’t going to be doing anything interesting~”

Actions-stands and proceeds towards the door.

Scene cuts to- science woman sitting at the edge of a dock overlooking the sea. She is comparing traditional drawings of the orb signed by young woman to digital media - looks like blueprints and such of the orb.

OLESIA- “None of this makes sense.”

Actions- sets the images down on her lap.

Camera- looks out to the sea as the sun sets in the distance. Slight whirring noise can be heard in the distance similar to the TARDIS landing noise.

OLESIA- “If that ship crashed… and it crashed here, why aren’t there more relics from it?”

Actions- takes out her phone and begins to search up old technology relics. Scene shows a notification from investigator pop up on phone interrupting her search.

JONES-‘Get some rest. Big move tomorrow at the pond.’ Is what it would read.

Scene closes fading to black and opens with science woman in her room shifting from side to side with a nightmare perhaps.

Camera- moves in closer to her face fading to a scene with science woman in place of a reptilian.

Area- smoggy cooradoors with emergency red lights and a scary alarm blaring in the distance. Dreamy filter and tilting camera follows science woman down the hall as she hugs the orb to her chest. Two people run down the hall towards her.

PUPPET 1-“Stop! Wait for us!”

PUPPET 2- “Don’t leave! We know you have that orb! We need it! How else will we escape?!”

REPTILIAN- “No! I know who you are, what you are!”

Actions-backs away from them.

REPTILIAN- “I saw you! I saw you with that thing!”

Actions- She shouts continuing to back away as camera watches the two approach her from over her shoulder.

PUPPET 1- “You do?”

Actions- They both look at each other,

PUPPET 2- “That doesn’t matter, you need to escape too. We’ll all die down here if you don’t hand us that drone!”

Actions- first puppet screams and lunges at science woman. She backs up against the wall and swings- landing a heavy handed punch across the first puppets face face before running to the side.

PUPPET 2- “Don’t leave us here!”

Actions- screams running towards her. Camera stays focused on the one doubled over from the punch. Their forehead looks damaged, a piece opening up a bit as an eye stalk peaks out.

REPTILIAN- “I knew it! Stay away from me! You’ll never get this technology! Never!”

PUPPET 1- “We won’t be buried! Not again!”

Actions- yells back and charges her.

Scene snaps back to- Olesia sitting up straight in her bed, panting and shivering badly. The screams of the Dalek puppets echo through the room. Camera sinks into the floor to credits.

[yn-dreamlife]

Our Princess

Ok so like I don't know if ya’ll have seen the interview or whe=atever where BTS dresses up as Princes and then proceed to like kiss each other on the cheek and stuff but imagine like you're there and they dress you up as a princess and like.... yeah. (Heres the interview if you haven't seen it)

BTS x reader (OT7 x reader)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: fluff, low-key smut/lemon, mentions of smut, cuteness, nicknames, eventual shy reader use of the word daddy/daddies (like once)

Images not mine just found them on the internet but I did make the collage.

As I sneak into the back of the building I have to stifle a gleeful giggle at the sound of my boyfriends laughter. I can tell at this moment its Namjoon and Taehyng laughing and my heart swells at the thought of them. 

I truly am blessed to have such seven amazing boyfriends. And im blessed to have a friend who's willing to sneak me into this interview, of course I could have just told them the truth and come with them but this would be better. 

I just got back from my world tour and while most of it they where with me the last month (give or take) they had to return home. They called me to ask when I would be home and when I heard they where having an interview at the place my friend works I quickly lied so I could surprise them. 

They’ve done it to me tons of times before, it’s only fair I get to do the same. And hey if this happens to be how we officially tell the fans we’re together then I’m okay with that. Sadly im not actually sure what this interview is and y/f/n wouldn't tell me. 

“y/f/n!” I groan as she drags me away from where my feet were already carrying me. 

“Sorry y/n/n but I gotta get you in the proper attire first.” She says winking. 

I look at her suspiciously “you’re not sending me out in lingerie or some shit right?” She sputters before quickly yelling at me in a hushed whisper how they don't do that here and I couldn't help but chuckle, “just checking.” 

She rolls her eyes pushing me into a room and locking the door behind us, sometimes the boys need to leave an interview during break just to be alone and it would ruin the surprise of me being here if one barged in. 

As I finally look around I gape at the big ball gown right in the center. “Woah! What lucky duck gets to where that?!” I gasp admiring the beautiful dark blue dress. 

“You” She states like its a simple fact like humans need to breathe. 

“M-me- What?!” I look at her dumb founded and she just smiles. 

“Mmmhmmm!” She hum happily pulling it off the mannequin. I waste no time undressing and quickly putting the dress on before she changes her mind or something. 

I feel giddy as the dress slides on my body. “y-y/f/n” I stutter out staring at myself in the mirror as she quickly applies some makeup and puts my hair up in an elegant updo. 

“Hmm?” she hums.

“I look-” You pause truly speechless. 

“Absolutely amazing?” You nod silently, “of course you do! With me as your stylist where could you go wrong?!” She chirps happily as she looks at her watch. 

“Are we to late? Did this take to long?!” I ask worried trying to ignore my growing disappointment. 

“What?! No! Just trying to see if they’re all dressed and ready. You’re going to be the last one to go as our surprise guest.... and it looks like its time!” She says as her phone chimes. 

I stand up hands sweaty so I wipe them on a towel. “Wont they see me as I enter?” 

She shakes her head, “no they’ll be turned around and blindfolded incase someone tries to peak.” She says winking, “oh and you will be too!”

“What?!” I exclaim shocked.

“Yep... haha kinda for the whole beginning half.” she says scratching the back of her neck. 

“W-wha -why?!” I asked in a hush voice as she leads me out of the room. 

“You’ll see.” She whispers placing a silky blindfold carefully on my face, not tight enough to ruin my makeup. I sigh as we continue walking.

“Alright boys! Are you guys excited?!” y/f/n asks excitedly. she whispers for you to sit back and you do so carefully. 

“Yes!” Jungkook says excitedly. “I want to see this mysterious beautiful princess!” I can hear the smile in his voice and ignore the slight ache. ‘He’s doin it for the fans, they dint know about us yet.’ I remind myself. 

“May I ask a question?” I hear Namjoon ask. 

“Of course!” y/f/n says. 

“How old is this princess?” He asks I assume I’m supposed to answer but a hand is slapped over my mouth before I can do so. 

“She’s around all of your age!” she says quickly as Namjoon hums thoughtfully. You nod remebering they don't know its you yet. 

“Can I please please please take the blindfold off now?!” I hear Hoseok asks and I almost ‘aww’ at him but I refrain. 

“No.” y/f/n, states simply. “-First” she says cutting of there groans of frustration. “I want you to guess who it is.” She says, “Or who you hope for it to be.” 

“Papa Mochi!” I hear Jimin cheer happily and I almost bust out laughing but I quickly cover my mouth. 

“That’s a guy!” y/f/n says exasperated like she's heard this all day. 

“fine!” he groans, “ummm Kumiko!” Jimin says.

“Is that just a random person?” She asks and when I don't hear anything but a sigh from her I  assume he just shrugged. I shake my head smiling as I listen to a bunch of random names leave there lips. 

“Kaede” I hear Namjoon next.  

“Iva” Jungkook says

“Koge” Jin spoke next. 

Now it was Hobis turn “Rai”

Taehyng waited a second before also replying, “Risako”

“Ishi” Yoongi speaks calmly. 

“What do you all just have a random store of names in your head?!” Y/f/n asks exasperated. I can hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks next, “Surprised none you said your best friends name.”

“She’s still on tour.” Tae says rather roughly. 

“Calm,” Namjoon whispers but I still caught it, ‘just how close to them am I?’ I wonder reaching my hand out only to meet the fabric of someones shirt. 

“Wah!” He exclaims and I recognize it as Taehyung. ‘So I’m very close.’ I think  to myself. “Uh thanks...” he mutters moving his shoulder away. ‘cute.’ I think. 

“Jeez sore subject haha sorry folks,” she pauses and clears her throat before continuing. “Anywho go ahead and take off the blindfolds!” She says and as I go to reach for my own a hand on my wrists stops me. 

“Not you m-lady.” She says in a fake accent. I hit her hand away pouting. 

‘Lame.’ I think to myself bitterly. 

“If she can't see us why is it fair we get to see her?” Yoongi questioned. ‘Thank you!’ I thought exasperated. She groans. 

“ugh! fine! Party pooper, you can keep your mask on too!” She chirps and my shoulders sag, ‘so much for that.’ 

“Fine” he says and I can hear him sit back down. I hear the others collectively gasp as I assume they remove there masks. 

“What? Who is it?” Namjoon speaks this time, ‘so he kept his blindfold on too.’

“You two are gonna wanna see this!” I hear Jungkook say and I can hear the grin in his voice. It makes me smile and I wave shyly biting my lip. 

“Y-Y/n?!” I hear them both exclaim. My grin widens. 

“Y/f/n get this damn blindfold off me I want to see my bo-” I cut myself off, “My boys!” I say in a rush. She groans

“Okay but you'll have to wear it again for one of our games.” She states matter-o-factly. I Quickly rip it off and my smile gets impossibly larger as I see them all standing there. 

“Look at all of you!” I say grinning as I stare at all of them in there prince outfits. A noticeable warmth spreading to my cheeks, ‘shit they look really good.’ 

Before I can think more on how amazing they look I am quickly picked up and spun around by Namjoon. I laugh gleefully as he does so, me and him spent the least amount of time together on FaceTime over the past few weeks sadly, both busy at the wrong times. But that doesn't mean we didnt catch each other eventually. 

“Why didnt you tell us you where coming?” Jimin asks swiping in as soon as joon set me down to hug me and the rest of the boys followed. 

“To surprise you of course!” I say grabbing Yoongis cold hand as he pulls away. 

“Well it worked!” kook exclaimed.

“Yeah this is almost as good as papa mocha right jimin-ah?” Hobbi says nudging him. 

“Hey don't be like that!” He says as he stares at me helplessly. I laugh at this. 

“No, no I think chim would have preferred Papa Mocha right Jin?” I say looking at the handsome man. 

He smirks, “I dunno... maybe” I laugh bending over slightly as I do so missing the way all there yes where trained on me. 

“Alrght alright, enough of the gooey best-friend stuff!” y/f/n says. “We’re gonna take a break to give you seven time to prepare and poor y/n here time to enjoy herself before our next game.” she says about to walk away. 

“Wait! Whats the next game?!” I ask. 

“You’ll see.” As the cameras are turned off we are all sent away, the boys walk with my to ‘my room’ but we all know cameras where there to catch what would be said and whatnot so we stopped in the middle of both and I turned to all of them smiling widely. 

“You should have told us!” Taehyng grumbles as he clings onto you from behind nuzzling his head into your neck. 

“If I did that I wouldn't have been able to see you get all angry at the thought of me being away any longer.” I said bopping his nose and his own cheeks reddened. 

“Oh yeah, guess you heard that huh?” I make a mhm sound and he hides further in my neck as I giggle. 

“So kookie was I pretty enough to be worth it? Was I a good enough mysetery beauty princess?” I ask, he bends down cupping my cheek, “The only one who fits the bill,” he whispers placing a kiss on my lips. 

“Hey knock it off!” I say as a blush creeps its way onto my cheeks. They all laugh at that. 

We go to our own rooms and I sit waiting impatiently. Ten or so minutes later y/f/n comes back and pulls me into the room again and sits me back in the chair. 

“Okay so our next game is called... drumroll please!” All the boys smack there hands on there thighs, “Blush-rush!” She declares. 

“What?! Oh no!” I say exasperated “grrr curse you y/f/n!” I say shaking my fist at her as the boys laugh. 

“Yeah yeah thats the witches job not yours m-lady.” I scoff. “Ok! theres two rounds! One action round and one verbal round! y/n sets the boundaries, and you boys follow them but otherwise your good. Your goal? Make y/n blush as long and as deeply as possible.” She says looking to you to set the rules. 

“Ok obviously you boys know the no-no squares.” You say simply and they all chuckle nodding. “Okay, uhhhh I guess..Oh! No yelling in my ear!” You glare at Jungkook then remembering when you where still best friends and he screamed in your ear to wake you up, while acting out how he would wake his future girlfriend. 

He holds his hand up defensively and I shake my head at him smiling. “I don't know! You guys know me, so you know whats to far!” I said shrugging. They all nodded smiling, they know old boundaries of when we where trying to hide it from the fans are off the table, we’ve seen the theories and there isn't any negativity towards them so we figured why not.

If it comes out it comes out, if not then thats okay to. We’re happy ether way, it was a group decision. 

“Alrighty then lets get going!” She says smiling. “Boys pick which one you do first-” she gets cut off by an enthusiastic Namjoon. 

“Words!” He says quickly and all the boys quickly nod in agreement. I can't help but laugh. 

“Alrighty then y/n back on with the blindfold.” I groan but put it on anyways. 

it’s a long moment of silence before I hear anything at all, quickly thoughts of being alone flood into my mind but are quickly washed away by someones breathe hot on my ear. 

“Baby girl,” Instantly I recognize Jin, “you should have told us you where coming, we could have welcomed you home properly.” my eyes widen beneath my mask knowing full well what usually happens when we reunite. 

I clear my throat trying to avoid the blush on my cheeks. “Don't try to hide it princess,” Namjoon says his voice deep and on my other side, I can feel the warmth from the two bodies next to me. “You always react so well, such a beautiful blush.” 

This time I can't stop my cheeks from turning pink. “Little one~” It’s Jungkook, completely different from the excited adorable one who just minutes ago was excited to see a mysterious princess “doing so good, you’ve barely blushed so far.” He purrs but then chuckles deeply “Or you weren't blushing.” I groan slightly as I shift in my seat. 

‘Damnit only three of them have-’ “Hello Kitten,” ‘Yoongi, shit’. “Look at you, don't you look so pretty?” He says and I know if he could he would run his hands threw my hair right now. 

“Hello my little flower,” I hear another voice right next to my ear, ‘hello hobi’ I chuckle. “Something funny? Or you just like the way we’re making you feel?” I don't answer and he just chuckles at that. 

“Hello my little angel~” Jimin practically purrs into my ear just like Yoongi. “I love your dress, it would look better on my bedroom floor though, don't you think?” I try to shake off his words but of course the blush continues to grow.

I know who has to be coming next and I’m not surprised when I hear his deep voice, “Hi baby, are you happy to be surrounded by your daddies?” He whispers in my ear and by now the blush has moved down my necks and up to my ears. 

“Yes how are-” Jin gets cut off by y/f/n. 

“Alright alright!” She cuts in, “jeez guys I said make her blush, not kill her... you seven jeesh.” She pulls the blindfold off and I look up to see all seven of them around me smirks on there faces. 

‘uh-oh’ I look down not able to stare at them any longer, its to much I’m already warm enough. I didnt think they would be so.... suggestive. 

They chuckle as they see my cheeks warming up again. “I have to go cool off in the bathroom!” I say quickly standing up and moving to the hallway. I lean against a wall breathing deeply. 

“Damn you.” I sigh as I cover my face, even the after thought makes me blush.

“y/n?” I hear y/f/n, I look up at her smiling softly. “We can't make it a silent part, no one would no what they said and we all sign privacy policy contracts.” She said seriously. 

“Oh it’s fine I just was shocked really,” I huff out a laugh, “but lets make it silent, I want to see what our fans come up with.” She grins nodding. 

I go back out smiling reassuringly at the boys who all relax visibly. I sit back in the seat preparing myself for the next round. I breathe deeply as y/f/n gives the all clear as I watch Hobi approach. 

Truth be told I don't know what I was expecting but I wasn't expecting him to just sand in-front of me forcing eye contact, thats for sure. So when it got to be to much I quickly looked away, and thats how I knew I fell into the trap. His finger making its way under my chin to turn my face towards him as he leans in closer. 

And just when I think he might kiss me he pulls way smirking and I purse my lips to prevent a smile. So caught up in the moment I didn't realize Yoongi slipped behind me until I felt his hands move down my exposed shoulders only to go back up and move towards my collar bones. Goosebumps forming on my heated flesh. 

He drew his hands away drawing them close to my throat. Jimin also comes up not hesitating to move his hand from my cheek to my neck where he hovers placing slight pressure from his finger tips almost like from one of the first few videos he took of my where instead of doing the face smooshy thing he went and choked me. 

I know my face is beat red by now but there is still four more to go. I smile as Jungkook comes up to me, he wouldn't do anything to bad- I’m instantly proven wrong as his arms go around my middle, feather light touches moving over my sides the same way he does when I’m blindfolded and- ‘nope! don't go there then you WILL blush more!’ He smirks triumphantly knowing that was enough. 

Taehyung is much more.... pg I suppose as he peppers my face with kisses repeatedly, but I realize that that he was just to prepare me for when Namjoon sneaks up behind my sticking his face in my neck. He is sure to hide what exactly he’s doing by his position but I feel his lips moving up and down my neck going to the spot by my ear. 

Jin is the last, and what he does is simple but effective. He simply takes me off the chair and places me right onto his lap, and of course once again by now my face is beet red and they’ve surely beaten me since Hobi, but it was more fun to let them all go. 

After that the interview was basically done we stayed for about an hour more before we all decided to drive home. I was in my car with just Jungkook and Namjoon while the others went in there car. Im sitting in the back in Namjoon’s lap, yes there was a perfectly good seat beside him but honestly neither one of them cared and I loved the contact. 

We where stopped at a stop light the conversation at a comfortable silence when I spoke up. “You guys where very... open.” I say as I hide my face in Joons neck. he chuckles his hands moving up and down my back. 

“What can we say, not seeing you for, what a month? Add onto that the opportunity to publicly do anything we want with you, well we have to do everything we can.” he said smirking squeezing my hips. 

“Well not everything.” Jungkook says winking in the rear view mirror and once again I blush as a giggle leaves my lips. 

It’s a week later when I go onto youtube and find the latest conspiracy video for the eight of us shockingly. It’s videos of us over the whole time we had been dating, proof of the long time relationship. I smile as I show the boys and we reminisce on the old videos. 

I decide to post a picture on my instagram from the interview, one of the seven of them in there costumes and then one of me with each of them alone, namjoons was one of my favorites, not that I didnt love them all of them but one of the camera men caught the moment he picked me up and spun me around and I knew I would always treasure it. I put the caption, “My princes.” 

Seeing this they put a picture on there official insta saying “Our princess.” No one truly asked any questions, they all just knew. The comments where filled with friends saying finally, and fans agreeing saying how happy they where. And we where too. We truly would have a happily ever after. 

Hey guys my request an taglist’s are always open! Thank you!

[kasienda]

A Miraculous Reveal - Instagram

I forgot to post this here! Inspired by a prompt from @ladyofthenoodle. She also figured out how this one should end because she’s genius like that. Hope you enjoy! 

~~~

Marinette stared unhappily at the photo on her computer screen. Part of her thought she should be overjoyed at the revelation before her, but in the moment, she only felt frustrated. What was that stupid cat thinking?! Could he be any more obvious? If she didn’t know better, she’d think he did it on purpose.

“Marinette?” Tikki’s familiar voice called. “What’s wrong?”

The dark-haired girl sighed, and then gestured halfheartedly to the picture on her instagram feed. “Do you think I should be more mad at Adrien for uploading this picture? Or at Plagg for being difficult in the first place?” Tikki looked at the picture of Adrien sitting at his desk leaning forward to the camera with light from tall panes of glass windows lighting up his hair in a golden glow. As someone who collected all things Adrien, the picture honestly wasn’t the best Marinette had ever seen. His face looked washed out, and he had bags under his eyes. He just looked tired, and she couldn’t help but worry about him. Especially now that she understood that his plate of responsibilities was larger than she had ever imagined. The image was further spoiled by a random plain white sock floating upright in the air behind him. It was so stiff it could have been hanging from a clothesline.

Marinette observed Tikki carefully as the kwami considered the picture, watching for any reaction. At times, her kwami was amazingly expressive, but Marinette had come to learn the embodiment of creation could pull off quite the poker face when the need arose.

“I don’t see Plagg,” the red sprite finally concluded, her eyes furrowed together in seeming confusion.

“Really?!” Marinette scoffed. “That’s what you’re going with? I already know that kwamis don’t show up on camera, Tikki. What else could that be?”

Ao3 Link Ff.net

“Photoshop?” TIkki suggested lightly.

Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Maybe Adrien threw the sock backwards when he took the picture,” her kwami said.

Marinette crossed her arms over her chest, not remotely convinced by Tikki’s attempts to dissuade her.  “It’d be blurry, Tikki.”

“Not if it was at the height of its arc.”

“It wouldn’t be at this angle,” Marinette argued, pointing at the artifact. She didn’t like physics, but she couldn’t help pick up on some things being a superhero fighting akumas over the rooftops of Paris. “This is like it’s hanging upright. If it was flying through the air it would be bent and floppy.”

Tikki sighed, her mouth opening in search of another argument, but no words left her lips.

“You know who else might know that kwamis can’t be photographed?” Marinette asked rhetorically, and then answered the question herself. “Papillion.”

“Yeah, Adrien needs to delete that photo,” Tikki agreed.

Marinette laughed at Tikki’s sudden change in tune. “Oh, you think so?”

Tikki didn’t bother to respond to the “I told you so,” and Marinette found herself looking at the picture. His eyes were actually green. After her stint as Lady Noire, Marinette hadn’t been certain that her partner’s eyes were that vibrant shade of fresh spring grass. But they were, and for whatever reason that little detail made her feel like she knew him.

And of course, she did know him. He was Adrien. But now… She couldn’t help the giddy little smile that burst over her face as the reality of Chat Noir’s identity really sunk in, and she loved him even more.

“I’m glad that you’re happy,” Tikki observed softly. “That it’s him.”

Marinette twirled around in her chair towards her kwami. “Yeah, me too,” she admitted with a blush. “But goodness, he makes things so difficult sometimes! Why doesn’t he think things through?!”

“Let’s go yell at him!” Tikki encouraged, executing an excited dance in the air.

Marinette laughed. “Alright, then! Tikki, Spots On!”

…

Adrien lay back on his bed, one arm behind his neck supporting his head, and the other hand holding his phone up in front of his face, watching the likes and comments come in from his latest Instagram post. He didn’t really know why he always watched the reactions come in live. The constant notifications and attention from people he had never met had lost its joy and appeal ages ago, and yet, he still couldn’t help but check the recent post every few seconds anyway.

And this post was special. He had an ulterior motive.

“Do you think she’ll figure it out, Plagg?” Adrien asked, daydreaming of a certain Ladybug darting through his window.

“I’d say that’s a pretty good bet!” the mischievous cat like kwami said, snapping the t before phasing out of sight.

Adrien dropped the phone and looked up. “What makes you say…”

Ladybug stood in his window frame. Her blue eyes narrowed as they landed on him, and he wanted to hide from her obvious displeasure.  

“...that?” he trailed off. He leapt from his prone position on the bed, and slid forward, allowing his legs to hang over the mattress as he sat smiling at his mostly unexpected guest.

“Hi, Ladybug! What brings you here?” Adrien greeted brightly as if it was totally and completely normal to have a superhero standing in his open window. Which, if he counted himself, it kinda was…?

Her glare turned frostier, even as she jumped gracefully from the window sill to the marble floor. “Don’t play dumb, Chaton. It doesn’t suit you. Delete it now!”

“Delete what?” Despite her command, he figured it was in the interest of his survival to pretend he had no idea what she was talking about.

“The photo that you just posted to Instagram!” she growled.

He grinned. Ladybug had arrived within thirty minutes of him posting the photo. “So, you follow my Instagram?”

To his shock, pink flushed across her face. “That’s s-so not the point!” she spluttered.

His grin widened. “I always told you, you’d find my unmasked face irresistible.”

Her eyes hardened. “You need to delete that photo now, Adrien!” she barked harshly. “If I could figure it out, Papillion and Mayura can too!”

His grin evaporated in an instant. Shit! He hadn’t thought about that. He darted back to his phone that lay abandoned on his bed, rapidly unlocked it, and then swiped and tapped his way through the app. “It’s done,” he reported, all his bravado gone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

His partner’s form slumped in relief and she let out a frustrated sigh. Her resigned exasperation with just that dash of disappointment cut deeper than anything she had actually said. He had been needlessly reckless and for selfish reasons. It seemed so obvious now.

“It’s probably not gone, though,” he admitted softly. “I have crazy fans that screen cap everything. And repost stuff. I can’t control any of that.”

“It was only up for like half an hour. I can’t imagine it got too far or that most people will understand its significance. And it’s not the most flattering photo of you honestly, so hopefully less people felt the need to save it.” She flicked a piece of lint off her shoulder, not making eye contact. “How many likes did it have?”

“Around five thousand,” he reported.

“Five thousand?” she repeated in disbelief, her bright blue eyes as wide as the Seine. “I don’t think I could get that many likes in a year! God damn celebrities!”

“Ladybug could,” he told her confidently. “If she had an Instagram.”

“I’m not getting an Instagram as Ladybug!” she countered hotly.

“Why not?” he asked with genuine curiosity. “I imagine you could post some beautiful pictures of the city.”

“Because of stuff like floating socks!” she snapped back. She started pacing in front of his window in agitation. “I might not catch something in the background, and then I would give away my whole identity! I’m not willing to put my friends and family in danger for likes!” she lashed out at him.

His shoulders wilted. She was right. His father had a lot of resources and could probably protect himself even from a supervillain. Maybe Kagami too. But what about Nino, Alya, and Marinette?

“I-it wasn’t for likes,” he whispered, but the objection felt weak even to his own ears. He had only wanted one person to see it. Her. He just wanted her in his life. His actual life. Was that so bad? But his plan had worked better than he thought possible. She had figured out his identity. And that meant…

Knots formed in Adrien’s stomach as the implications sunk in. “You’re right. I didn’t think. Are-are you going to take my miraculous, now?” He wasn’t brave enough to look at her face. He hadn’t thought about the consequences at all. He hadn’t thought about the fact that other people, including his enemies, might recognize the properties of a kwami. Didn’t think about the fact that he didn’t know how to survive without the freedom of Chat Noir. No, he had only been thinking that Ladybug would understand the significance of the photo and if she “accidentally” figured out his identity, then she couldn’t be mad at him for telling her. He had only wanted her to see him and understand him. She was his partner. His other half.

He risked a glance up at her continued silence. She looked like she had been hit by a bus at the question. Her eyes were blown wide and her mouth hung open, and she still didn’t say anything.

“That’s the consequence, right?” he prompted when she didn’t respond. “Someone figures out my identity, I have to give up my miraculous?” He shrugged, trying to hold up a strong front. “That’s what Plagg said a few weeks back anyway.”

He slipped off the ring and held it out to her, his eyes burning with threatened tears.

Her gloved hands reached out, and he clamped his teeth down on the sob that wanted to tear out of his throat. Her gloved hands, which felt strange touching his bare skin, carefully closed his fingers around the cold metal circle and pushed it back towards him. He looked up at her in surprise. Her eyes glistened with her own unshed tears.

“Maybe I should take it. That was Master Fu’s rule, but Chaton…” she whispered, and then rapidly shook her head with her teeth pressed down into her lower lip. “I can’t do this without a partner.”

“You could find a new partner. One who is more worthy of your trust.”

She scoffed. “I can’t just find another partner! They don’t fall from the sky. And yes! I’m not going to lie! You drive me absolutely crazy sometimes! With the flirting and your stupid puns while I’m trying to figure out how to use a lucky charm! When you wouldn’t take no for an answer after asking me out for like the third time. When you fell for fake Ladybug just because you wanted me to love you even though it was so obvious she wasn’t real. And oh my god, you accepted Sass when you were already Chat Noir! Ugh!”

His shoulders slumped, and his eyes burned with unshed tears. When she laid it all out like that… maybe she needed to find a new partner. Someone who understood the responsibilities his power brought him, and would respect her boundaries, hopefully better than he had.

She dropped to her knees in front of him, and her red gloved hands gently took his own, and squeezed reassurance. She tilted her head down to catch his fallen gaze. And she smiled softly at him.

“But Chaton, you’re also the person who can figure out my crazy plans with almost no explanation, the person who has taken hit after hit for me. I’ve literally watched you die in my arms, more times than I prefer to think about. I have the nightmares to prove it. You talk me up and encourage me when it feels impossible to succeed.”

She gripped his hands harder. “Hell! I would have quit being Ladybug on the first day, if it wasn't for you. I don’t know how to tell you this, but I need you. No one else can even come close to replacing you. Not even if I trained them to fight because you do more than watch my back. You just know how to lift me up when my world has fallen apart.”

Hot tears slipped past his defenses as her words settled into his being, planting soft seeds of warmth.

“Please don’t cry,” she begged.

He wiped his tears away furiously. “Thank you, LB. it feels really good to hear you say all that. Sometimes, I’m not sure where I stand with you. Some days I feel like your best friend, and other days, that annoying weird kid you wish you never had met.”

“Chaton,” she crooned. “I care about you so much. I promise I have never once wished that I hadn’t met you. You have become a huge part of my life!”

“You too, LB! You’re the best thing in mine.”

She blushed and fidgeted. It was actually weird to see her as anything other than confident and focused. Her nervousness relaxed him, made him remember she was just a teenager like him.

“I love you,” he blurted into the growing silence. “You make me feel like I have value and a purpose. Like I’ve done something good, and that I’ve done it well. I don’t feel like that very often. And I know I’ve said it before, and I’m not expecting anything, but I just… I wanted to say it just once… as myself.”

“You love me,” she repeated, her form rigid as she stared at him with wide eyes as if she couldn’t believe it.

He laughed. “Yes! Why do you sound so surprised? I’ve only told you three times before!”

“But that was Chat Noir. Adrien told his friends he was in love with someone but he didn’t give a name. I’m the person Adrien is in love with.”

He placed a hand absently to his neck. “It’s not like I could tell my friends your name. It’d be dismissed as a celebrity crush.”

Then her comment registered and his green eyes shot up to her masked ones. “Wait! How do you know that I told my friends that?”

She glanced toward the window, and took a step back. “Uh… well, you see…” she stuttered. And that was weird. He’d never seen Ladybug so nervous, and yet, her body language tickled his memory with its familiarity.

“Do I… do I know you in my civilian life?”

Ladybug bolted to her feet. “Well, this has been fun,” she said rapidly, a nervous smile stretching across her face. “I need to get going now. Remember to be more careful with your social media accounts. See you at patrol tomorrow, Chaton!”

He darted in front of her before she could launch her yo-yo out his window, his mind awhirl. He had only told three people that he was in love with someone. Nino, Marinette, and Kagami.

None of them seemed likely to share that information with anyone else.

And Ladybug definitely wasn’t Nino.

He had seen Ladybug with both Marinette and Kagami. But… his lady was clever. She might have tricked him. And of those two, only one of them made sense.

“Marinette?”

Her face fell into her hands. “Tikki’s going to kill me.”

Warmth burst in his chest like a firework going off. Adrien felt like he was floating above the ground. He was just that elated. He knew Ladybug’s identity. And the girl behind the mask? She was amazing! And she was already his friend.

He stepped forward and seized her in a hug. “It’s you!” he laughed, giddiness spilling from every fiber of his being.

She didn’t reciprocate. Instead, she remained frozen in his embrace - awkwardly patting his shoulder. He immediately let her go and backed away with an arm to the back of his neck as his nerves caught up with him.

“Sorry,” he muttered, heat blooming in his face. “I am so excited to know that you are Marinette, I… I got carried away.”

“H-how can you be s-sure that I’m Marinette?” she asked, pink spreading from her mask to her ears.

He smiled fondly at the suddenly very familiar stutter. “You know I can see the resemblance now, right? It’s really obvious. Plus, who else could live up to Ladybug, but Marinette?”

She fidgeted and turned away from his gaze. “Y-you can’t tell anyone.”

He rolled his eyes and took another step towards her. “I know how the superhero schtick goes.”

She crossed her arms across her chest and glared at him. “Really? Have you already forgotten why I came to visit you today?” And here she was all Ladybug righteous fury.

He blushed. “I only did that because I wanted you to know who I was. No one else. And trust me to guard your secret better than my own. I know you have a family to protect.”

“You say that like you don’t,” she observed with a frown.

He shrugged. “I mean, I guess I have my father. But I hardly ever see him. So does it count?”

Adrien immediately regretted saying that as an awkward silence descended upon them. A silence that he had no clue how to fill.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she finally whispered, and then she took a step forward and her spotted arms encircled around him.

“What for?” he asked in surprise. He stood frozen uncertain and amazed at this turn of events, before he let his arms wrap around her petite form and his chin rest on her shoulder.

“I just… I don’t think I ever understood why having a connection with me as Ladybug was so important to you,” she whispered in his ear. “I didn’t realize that it would be just as difficult to make friends in your civilian form as it would be as Chat Noir.”

He pulled back a little, but just enough to take her hand and bring it to his lips. He kissed her knuckles as he always did. But unlike usual, she didn’t pull away or rebuff him. In fact, her cheeks blazed red the way Marinette’s often did in Adrien’s presence.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“F-fine,” she stammered, snatching her hand out of his hold like she had been burned.

“You just... usually pull away sooner. And your face is all red,” he pointed out, gesturing to her cheeks with his free hand.

She punched him in the shoulder. And it hurt more than he was willing to admit. He wasn’t transformed at the moment, but he tried to play it off.

“You don’t have to be a jerk about it!” she admonished him.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion.

“You’re making fun of me,” she whined.

“I swear that I’m not.”

“Then why do you keep teasing me about being embarrassed?” she shot back.

“I… you’re embarrassed?” he asked. “What on earth would you have to be embarrassed about? You’re amazing!”

“You know who I am! You can remember every time I’ve put my foot in my mouth or embarrassed myself horribly in front of you with every attempted confession,” she spoke rapidly, her hands waving around wildly. And he found himself smiling softly. This behavior was all Marinette. And he loved it. Then her words registered. His eyes widened, and time froze and he felt as alert as he did facing an akuma. He could see her hands fidgeting nervously, her heaving chest as she struggled to replace the air she had just used, the faint pink still staining her cheeks, and her blue eyes darting away in self-consciousness.

“Confession?” He tried to keep the hope out of his voice, but he failed.

Her eyes widened before her face fell into her hands again, as she mumbled incoherently into her palms. And god, this blending of Marinette and Ladybug right in front of him was making him dizzy. He stepped forwards again and gently pulled her hands from her face, revealing swirling orbs of blue that peeked out from under her dark eyelashes.

“I’m the boy? Me?” He asked. Her blush darkened, but she gave a slight nod. He laughed in absolute delight. “I’m the boy,” he repeated, but this time it was a revelation and not a question. If he felt like he was floating before, he was flying now. And he was never going to come back down to earth again.

“Me. Adrien. I’m the boy you love,” he rambled, a grin as wide as the Seine stretched across his face. “You rejected Chat Noir-me for Adrien-me.” He was never going to stop smiling.

“Adrien,” she whined, over enunciating all three syllables of his name. “Stop looking so pleased with yourself!”

He shook his head. “But you love me. Ladybug loves me.”

She blushed yet again, and offered him a gentle smile. “Yeah… I guess she does.”

He caressed her cheek and leaned into her space. “May I kiss you?”

She nodded.

His right hand cupped her while his left slipped his fingers between hers. His lips pressed into hers. Just a touch, lingered there for a moment relishing in the gentle contact. She felt soft, warm, and tasted sweet like fruit-flavored candy.

It wasn’t his first kiss.

But it was the first kiss he could remember.

He pulled away to see her face still lost in the contact. Her eyes were closed with her head angled up, and she had the smallest smile. Warmth bloomed in his chest at her expression.

Posting that picture had been the best idea he had ever had.

Unless of course, Papillion figured him out. That would lead him straight to Marinette whether or not the villain had cause to suspect she was Ladybug.

His stomach turned to ice.

No… he wouldn’t let that happen. He would protect her. He was Chat Noir, and Chat Noir always protected his partner. He always did whatever needed to be done, whether he had to sacrifice himself or just simply created a distraction.

His eyebrows shot into his forehead. That was exactly what he needed to do!

“I have an idea!” he exclaimed.

...

Ladybug refused to open her eyes. She wouldn’t recover if she opened them only to discover that the last two minutes had only been a dream.

This wasn’t her first kiss, and it wasn’t even her first kiss with Adrien. But the first one had been in the middle of a battle with no time to savor the moment. This is the kiss she would choose to cherish in her memory.

He pulled back, and she tried not to chase him, but she wasn’t ready for him to go.

“I have an idea!”

Her eyes finally blinked open at the excitement in his voice. “An idea?” she asked. “F-for what?” Why was she still stuttering?!

His meadow-green eyes were vibrant, and he still held her hand. The contact was grounding her even if the gloves of her suit remained between them. “To solve my floating sock problem. We need a distraction. Can you detransform?”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Please?” he begged and somehow his eyes got wider and softer, and his lower lip trembled in an over-exaggerated pout. She was going to have to work on her resistance to that look. “We could do this as Ladybug and Adrien. It might even work better at solving the sock identity vulnerability, but it would do that by putting your identity more at risk if we show any public affection in our civilian identities. It’s better to do this as Adrien and Marinette.”

“Spots off,” she whispered. Chat Noir was the person she trusted most in the world.

The familiar buzz tingled down her form, and Adrien was staring at her like he’d never seen her before all over again.

Her face and neck blazed in sudden embarrassment. “What?” she asked, looking down at her fingers.

“I just… it really is you,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I mean, I knew that, but… but now, it’s real.”

Tikki took that moment to flutter up between them. “Marinette, what are you…?”

Marinette waved her off. “Not now, Tikki! It’s too late. I’m sorry!” She turned back to Adrien. “What did you have in mind?”

He grinned so brightly. Seriously, she was going to get sunburned from his smiles, and reached a hand out to her. “Come here,” he directed as he pulled her into his arms. It was terrifying how good it felt to be held in his arms. She felt hot and cold, vulnerable and safe, nervous and loved. And she felt it all at once. It was quite the heady experience.

Then he touched their foreheads together and she got lost in his eyes, which beamed with absolute adoration all directed at her. Heat pooled into her cheeks at the intimacy of their unwavering eye contact.

She chided herself. They had been in far more intimate and compromising positions in their suits. But right now, they were without their masks. And she felt so much more vulnerable.

But also giddy with joy.

After only seconds had passed, Adrien pulled out his phone, and snapped a few pictures of them, but his eyes never left her face until after he finished. Only then did he glance down at the screen to view their results.

“What do you think?” He asked, swiping through the burst of shots as he turned the screen to show her.

Looking at the pictures, Marinette couldn’t breathe, let alone speak. The only thing more powerful than seeing Adrien’s love sick eyes focused intently and unerringly on hers was seeing her own expression mirroring his own. She brushed his hand away and went through the pictures herself more slowly, tears threatening to drop from the corner of her eyes when she landed on her favorite. In the image, Adrien was smiling like a child tasting sugar for the first time in its life, while Marinette looked dazed like the world had just been turned upside down, which it had, but in the best possible way.

She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “This one,” she said, handing the device back to him.

“I like this one too,” he agreed as his fingers flew across the small touch screen, setting up a new Instagram post. He turned the final result towards her, so she could read the caption.

Spending the afternoon with my new girlfriend.

“What do you say? Are you ready to become social-media-official with me?” he asked with a smirk. But his free hand was rubbing the back of his neck.

The nervous tick threw her, and she realized he wasn’t just creating a distraction. He was also asking her out, and he was nervous. Somehow that calmed her.

She bit her lip and nodded again. And suddenly he was kissing her again, and she hoped that she never got used to the sensation. It was perfect. Even though she disapproved of his recklessness, part of her was really glad that he had posted that picture if it meant she could have a dozen more moments like this.

When he pulled away, he buried his head into his phone once again. She frowned at how quickly he was distracted, and looked over his arm to see what he was adding to his post.

When I kiss her, I feel so dizzy I see spots.

“Adrien!” she scolded, slapping his arm. Was he seriously going to risk her identity for a stupid pun! He laughed, and immediately deleted the sentence. “Okay! Okay! How about… the princess of my heart?”

“Totally over the top cheesy!” she screeched, trying harder to wrestle away his phone.

Before she succeeded, he hit the “share” button. Then, he immediately surrendered the device to her, and pulled her back against his chest, his chin resting on her shoulder as they stood cheek to cheek, looking at his phone, which was already lighting up and buzzing with dozens of notifications. Marinette watched in abject fascination. This was almost unfair.

Within two minutes, Marinette’s cell had started ringing, and over the next five minutes, Alya had called fourteen times and left four voicemails. Exasperated, Marinette texted her back.

I’m trying to make out with my boyfriend. Quit interrupting!

That ought to get her to shut up.

Sure enough, Alya sent her a squealing emoji in response and then there was silence.

Within ten minutes, the new photo had exceeded the five thousand likes of the deleted picture. Congratulatory and heartbroken comments poured in almost faster than Adrien or Marinette could read.

Another five minutes passed, and the newly formed couple jumped apart at the sudden pounding on Adrien’s bedroom door.

“Adrien, would you please open this door right now and explain how Ms. Dupain-Cheng came to be in your room without going through the front door,” Nathalie called from the other side of the wooden barrier.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Marinette whispered, stepping away from her new boyfriend - she had an actual boyfriend - and towards the window.

Adrien immediately grabbed her hand. “Actually, it might be better if you stayed?” he said nervously. “I may not have thought this entirely through either… as this photo is obviously in my room. It’s easier to explain sneaking you in here than is explaining where you disappeared to.”

“Adrien!” She hissed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hopefully love me forever?” He suggested with an exaggerated grin.

“Adrien!” Nathalie yelled through the door.

Marinette laughed. “You might want to open the door before your father's assistant gets akumatized.”

“You’ll stay?” he whispered, his trembling eyes the only sign that he was scared to face the dragon on the other side of his bedroom door alone.

She nodded, and threaded her hand through his. “You and me against the world, right?”

“The world plus Nathalie. She’s scarier than the rest of the world,” he said cheekily even as he unlocked and opened the door.

God, Marinette was completely in love with this dork. And she was going to have to put up with him, his ill-thought-out-over-th-top schemes to impress her, and his stupid smug smirk for who knew how long.

Maybe forever.

But then again, maybe none of those things were so bad.

[soranihimawari]

weird flex, but ok:

time zones don’t affect friendships if you can time video calls just right. facetiming with your boyfriend’s high school buddies always seemed like a fun way to pass the time in between studying for midterms. california was and still is part of your personal end goals after you graduated from high school. you had studied hard for your entrance exams for the university you attended and when you began your junior semester, you were paired with the international student who shared the same interest in becoming an athletic trainer. iwazumi wasn’t necessarily a bad partner per se, but you couldn’t help catch the jealous stares of the sorority women who were hoping the professor would choose one of them as his partner for the lab portion. 

at first you didn’t see the big deal about having iwazumi as a partner. as far as you knew, he was a dedicated student. his notes were always more organized than you were which was surprising because your notes seemed incomplete, but your doodles of the course material made him laugh here and there. more often than not, after you exchanged contact information, you and him consistently met up at the local coffee houses off of campus to begin the prep work for the physical therapy course you shared. your roommate at the time thought it was funny how people thought you two were an item only for you to brush it off saying something along the lines of, “if he wanted to date me, i’d probably challenge him to an arm wrestling match.” this caused your roommate to laugh hysterically at the thought because yes, she knew you were strong, but she reminded you of how fit iwazumi looked. 

both of you and iwazumi seemed to have grown close over the run of the semester and one night where the rain would not let up, you found yourself taking up iwazumi’s offer to stay over his apartment off campus until the storm had stopped. the two of you decided to call it a day from studying at the library right when you mentioned the clouds were rolling in. that was a few days ago. the random arm wrestling challenge you suggested you’d challenge him to was held at the end of that week. you pestered him until he broke down and agreed to the ridiculous terms: “iwazumi, if i win, you take me out on a proper date. if you win, i’ll buy you whatever snacks you want from 7/11.”

the arm wrestling match happened over three months ago and you found yourself at iwazumi’s apartment again. you were dressed casually in a large jersey dress with black leggings with your hair in a side braid. iwazumi was in his room grabbing his collection of monster movies when his phone rang. the phone was laying in front of the sofa where you were sitting, with curiosity dangling in front of you, you raised a brow at the caller ID: oinkawa t. you answered the facetime call with a smile recalling on your second date, iwazumi told you about his childhood friend and how the nickname came to be (something about minecraft and misspelling the name of a pig).

“yoo-hoo! hey there iwa--wait a sec, you’re not iwa-chan,” oikawa’s face seemed dumbfounded for a minute. then he let out a loud gasp in surprise. a chuckle escaped your throat when you shook your head. you introduce yourself and when you added girlfriend at the end, oikawa shook his head in disbelief muttering something about owing their other friends in japan money (sidenote: oikawa, mattsukawa, and hanamaki had a pool going without iwazumi’s knowledge about how iwazumi seemed preoccupied with his studies lately).

“so,” you hear the voice of the best friend of your boyfriend begin. “how did my iwa-chan ask you out on a date the first time?”

“oh! that’s easy,” you said with a mischievous smile. seizing the opportunity iwazumi was busy turning his room upside down looking for the medium sized box which housed his monster movie collection, you brought up the arm wrestling match. you turned your head left and right to make sure the coast was clear before you tell oikawa the story. 

“it’s a weird flex but ok. i didn’t think iwazumi could actually lose an arm wrestling match,” oikawa stated. “makki has been trying for literal years to beat him. tell him to call me back. i know he’d give me shit for keeping you away from him. have fun on your date! later!”

“Did I just hear Oikawa?” Iwazumi’s voice thundered down the hallway. You rose up from the sofa with his phone in your hands.

“Iwazumi, can you come here for a sec? I want to take a sel-ca with you.”

He sets whatever he has in his hands on his desk close by for a moment and he sighs shaking his head muttering something about even if his best friend is is Argentina Oikawa still found a way to annoy him. You open the camera and switch it to a front facing mode on and when your boyfriend is within arms’ reach, he looks at you curiously.

“What’s a—”

You had stood up to cut off his sentence with your lips on his. The shutter sounds go off. Halfway across the world, Makki, Mattsukawa, & even Oikawa (in the dead of night) receive the photo notification and respectfully make snarky comments to which Iwazumi eventually replies with a “back off all of you. she’s happily taken. especially you, shittiykawa.”

tagging: @m0nstergeneration20xx & @oikawa-obvs

ending outfit inspired by this outfit/drawing credit goes to the artist on imager:

[inkribbon796]

Radioactive Ch. 1: Unthinkable

Summary: Science marches on as magic and science mix in the most dangerous way.

A/N: Title comes from “Unthinkable” by Cloudy June and Imagine Dragon’s “Radioactive”. This was supposed to be the season finale but there’s still shorts I want to do with this arc so the season finale will be at the end of September with the wedding, where I assure you nothing unfortunate will happen. Absolutely nothing.

In other news, this is my 200th short, and that makes me very happy. Hope you all enjoy this mid-arc short.

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

A thunderstorm started in the city, slowly rolling its way towards the north. Time was of the essence. Hours of testing, born from months of planning now culminated in a single moment.

In a bunker in the middle of the woods, two young men were conducting the first test. It was dark out and the city was in a frenzy, but that didn’t matter out here.

Barely anything mattered out here.

Tubbo and Jack Manifold stood in a well shielded bunker in the middle of the woods to the north east of Egoton. They were hundreds of miles into the cursed woods. They wore lab coats over their clothes.

“You know,” Jack Manifold chuckled to Tubbo as they got in place at the computer, a screen in front of them that overlooked the top of the forest. “It would be hilarious if all this thing did was smoke, shake, an’[1] then catch fire.”

Tubbo made an amused chuckle. “Then I guess I got arrested fer nothin’.”[2]

The two of them descended into a fit of laughter before Tubbo sobered up. “Goggles down.”

“Check,” Jack made sure his goggles were securely over his eyes.

“Safety shields one through ten?” Tubbo called next, his eyes and hands already moving to the array of sensors.

“Safety shields one through ten are all stable, an’[1] showin’[3] a steady magical signature,” Jack responded.

“Forest clear?” Tubbo grabbed the microphone and flipped the switch on that sent a signal to dozens of speakers and cameras that the two of them had set up and hidden in the “kill” and “cancer” zones weeks prior. “Attention! Attention! This is a serious warnin’ fer radiation if you are in the vicinity ‘a hearin’ this you must make yourself known so we can safely clear the woods. If you do not, you will die or become severely injured an’ get sick.”[4]

The two of them waited for a couple minutes, flipping through cameras to double check no one was going to get hurt. There was a malfunction from one of the cameras where an audio error was happening but nothing was on the camera and Tubbo sent one of his bee familiars to check it out and it came back with nothing.

Tubbo sent the message again and after nothing, he declared, “Forest clear.”

“Payload in place?” Jack was already checking the sensor.

“Check,” Tubbo double checked it.

“Reason fer[5] use ‘a[6] launch code?” Jack was looking down the button for any sign that something was out of order or going to malfunction.

“Testing payload in a safe environment before storage,” Tubbo answered.

Tubbo took a deep breath. “Here we are.”

Jack nervously swallowed.

The young teen took out a key card with a radioactive symbol and a bee on it. The number 1 marking it. “Ready?”

Smiling, Jack pulled out his own match card with a radioactive symbol and a skull, the number 2 marked on it. “Ready.”

Tubbo hit the sirens as they blared out, a final warning as Jack looked at Tubbo and saw the nervous anticipation.

“Inserting keycards for launch on my mark,” Tubbo announced. “I will count to three, an’[1] then I will say: “go” they are not ta[7] be inserted sooner or later.”

“Understood,” Jack called out, readying to insert the keycard. “Ready.”

“On my mark,” Tubbo called out, copying him. The room was deathly silent as the thunderstorm got closer. “3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . . Go! Go!”

The keycards went in and a signal raced along the current until they hit a panel far off into the distance. The pause was a fraction, of a fraction, of a second but it hit the payload and lacked it over the tree line until it struck a random tree on its starting descent.

The two young men had been expecting a small explosion, or no explosion, but the opposite happened. The earth shook the entire town for a couple brief seconds as a pulse of magic mixed with a deadly radioactive payload made a mushroom cloud that rose over the treeline and left a crater in its wake.

Tubbo and Jack screamed in horror and surprise as the tremors quickly subsided and Jack was so frozen in terror and surprise that he thought that it was his tinnitus making that sound.

But that was laughter. Tubbo was letting out a mad cackling laugh. The shields had protected them from the explosion, protecting the city. But Tubbo was so charged with energy, and in their surprise no one had yet to notice that Tubbo’s bad right eye had changed. It had been initially blinded and scarred, along with his hearing in one ear, in a close range explosion a couple years ago. Tubbo had designed a replacement and then grew out his hair to hide it. Now it was scarred again, a permanent radioactive symbol etched into the iris. Forever branding Tubbo for his bastardization of magic and science.

Jack looked over at Tubbo, watching him laugh and fight to collect his composure again with a new wash of horror.

“Tubster,” Jack tried to reach out to what he thought was a young man in desperate need of comfort. “It’s okay, it was just a test.”

“We have two more,” Tubbo said in a giddy tone of voice that terrified Jack.

“Wh-What?” Jack saw something briefly glowing underneath the fridge of Tubbo’s hair.

“We’re more powerful than Techno,” Tubbo smiled before remembering something. “But how’s . . .”

Jack found himself unable to speak as Tubbo reached for a RV control and operated his bee drone to head for the site after getting it ready to collect radioactive samples.

What he got brought the smile back to his face. “Cept fer the larger explosion, this looks better than I could have e’er imagined. The magic is helpin’ ta neutralize the radiation. By tomorrow it’ll be clean.”[8]

Jack leaned in to look at the camera, “Oh my—”

Tubbo’s eyes widened as Jack went slack jawed at the video image of the crater. There was a deep hole where the explosion had dissipated most of its force.

The echoes of another mad laugh bubbled in Tubbo’s chest, but he reigned it in. “I think it’s time ta[7] pack up, don’t you?”

“Ye-Yeah,” Jack said uneasily as Tubbo secured the other two payload cores into a leak-proof led box and made them vanish into his coat with his aura. Then Tubbo grabbed their books. Jack’s keycard was burning a hole in his pocket.

Then, once everything incriminating was cleaned up and stored on either Tubbo or Jack’s person.

When Tubbo double checked the area they set up a portal grid that charged with foaming purple aura. Tubbo felt a comfortable release of tension at the bits of Ranboo’s aura that came from the grid. As familiar as Tubbo’s own aura, and it felt like a refreshing breeze when he passed through the portal and into a nightclub that had three different layers to it. A dinning, dancing area. The VIP room was up a flight of curved stairs, and up at the top was a fighting area with cameras that projected the combatants all over the club.

Dream’s Server, where he was judge, jury, king, and executioner. Frequently Dream stayed in the VIP room unless Techno walked in and wanted a fight, or he had to leave to tend to some business.

Tonight everyone was down on the main floor, a match clearly interrupted and when Tubbo and Jack walked in everyone was staring at them, and anyone looked at Tubbo. Staring at him as if he was covered in human entrails.

“What did you fuckers do?” Sapnap spat.

“Language!” Bad gasped from where he was standing amongst the crowd.

“Nothin’,”[9] Tubbo braced his hands on his hips.

“Quit with those muffin-filled lies,” Bad yelled over several other people who were trying to call Tubbo out on his bullshit. “Where were you, young man?”

“Since when does anyone care what I do?” Tubbo scoffed. “I’m not a captain anymore.”

“How about when we feel a fucking explosion,” Quackity spat.

Bad let out another gasp.

“Skeppy, get him out of here,” Quackity turned to glare at Bad. “Bad, I love you, but I can’t deal with your language issues right now.”

“But,” Bad pouted sadly.

“Come on, buddy,” Skeppy patted Bad’s arm and started to walk back up to the arena. Bad glancing between Skeppy and the group before rushing to catch up to his friend.

“You guys felt somethin’[10]?” Jack asked in confusion.

“Of course we did, you guys were nearby doing weird shit and didn’t expect us to notice?” Quackity snapped.

“We weren’t in town, we were north ‘a[6] Egoton,” Tubbo felt a slow smile creep along his face. “Didn’t think it’d shake the whole town.”

“Did it work?” Dream asked, his mask staring at Tubbo.

Everyone, even Jack, stared at Dream.

Tubbo smiled, “Better than I imagined.”

“Alright,” Dream clapped, a smile in his tone. “I have nothing more to talk to you about, you’re free to go. You need any help sorting out the police?”

“Dream, you can’t just leave it at that,” Quackity snapped as Tubbo shook his head.

“We gotta at least know what they did,” Puffy reprimanded. “Cause[11] if they were anywhere near where they said they were and we felt, you can bet Dark felt it. Him and every other demon in this damn town.”

“Fair, fair,” Dream relented. “Tubbo, you wanna share some notes with the others?”

“I just became the strongest glitch in this fuckin’[12] town,” Tubbo proclaimed. “I put myself on the map. An’[1] Jack was there ta[7] help.”

Jack wasn’t sure if he wanted to take any kind of blame and correct Tubbo. Honestly if Tubbo was planning on using or even threatening his “nukes” against demons Jack knew he was already in too deep, and he needed to bail as quickly as possible.

“I’m gonna[13] go lie down,” Jack told everyone. “I’ve used a lotta magic an’ I need ta clear my head.”[14]

“Wait, you two fuckers are just going to walk off?” Quackity demanded, pissed.

“Quackity’s right, your aura’s will have to be tracked for the next little while,” Dream agreed, an air of disinterest.

“Sure, whate’er,[15]” Tubbo shrugged. “Going ta[7] the lab.”

“I’m not done with you yet,” Quackity followed the young man out to a hallway. “I am trying to run a business and you know what drives business away? Fear. I can’t have fear near my fucking casino. Loneliness and hunger gets people to indulge, and when they indulge they spend money. Fear makes people do crazy things.”

Tubbo stopped and just watched Quackity rant at him before leaning in, looking every bit like a mischievous teen that Quackity often forgot he was. He even had his hands folded behind his back and leaned up on his tiptoes. “Can I tell you a secret, Big Q?”

Disarmed a little bit, but not nearly as much as he used to, Quackity sighed, “Depends.”

“You e’er play Civ 5, Big Q?”[16] Tubbo took another step and Quackity watched mischief turn into malice, that smile never fading.

“Yeah,” Quackity answered hesitantly.

“I just became Gandhi,” Tubbo confessed, leaning in. Then he spun away on his heels. “I think I’ve said e’erythin’[17] I needed to say.”

“Hey, what did you just say to me!” Quackity became furious. “You little bastard, what did you do?”

“Go back ta[7] your card tables, Caesar,” Tubbo waved his fingers back at Quackity who looked so outraged he was shaking. In Tubbo’s glee his eye was glowing a sickly yellow. “Rome won’t build itself.”

Quackity watched the young man go, kicking himself for letting his guard down again. When Tubbo turned into a room and left. “Fuck you, Tubbo,” Quackity sneered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Accessibility Translations:

1. and

2. Then I guess I got arrested for nothing.

3. showing

4. Attention! Attention! This is a serious warning for radiation if you are in the vicinity of hearing this you must make yourself known so we can safely clear the woods. If you do not, you will die or become severely injured and get sick.

5. for

6. of

7. to

8. Except for the larger explosion, this looks better than I could have ever imagined. The magic is helping to neutralize the radiation. By tomorrow it’ll be clean.

9. Nothing

10. something

11. Because

12. fucking

13. going to

14. I’ve used a lot of magic and I need to clear my head.

15. whatever

16. You ever play Civilization 5, Big Q?

17. everything

[ampmiscfiles]

To Us You’re Worth Everything: Chapter 11

Start from the beginning

Peter groaned as he opened his eyes and sat up. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a park, and he wasn't sure how he got there.

Stretching, he lifted his hand to scratch at his itchy cheek, meeting a crusty substance. Frowning, Peter picked at the dried substance on his face before pulling his hand away to look.

Peter felt the blood drain from his face as the dark red, almost black, flakes peaked out under his nails and on his fingertips. Following down from his hands, his arms were marked with dark streaks, some places thicker than others. His clothes were stained in blood, blood that clearly wasn't his.

Quickly, Peter lurched to the side, throwing up what he had had for supper.

What had happened?

Crawling away from the tree he was under and further into the bushes, Peter wrapped his arms around himself, panic seeping in.

He had no idea what was going on. He didn't remember anything after leaving the group home, but clearly something had happened.

Trying to calm his rising panic, Peter closed his eyes and let the sounds of the park wash over him. The cool breeze rustling the tree leaves. Children laughing on the distant playground. Dogs happily enjoying playing with their owners. Couples chatting happily as they walked the pathways.

It was nice, and Peter felt his heart rate slow.

Opening his eyes, he took a deep breath before fully analyzing his situation. He couldn't exactly exit the cover of the bushes looking like he did. There was no way a blood covered teenager would be ignored.

Looking around, Peter sighed in relief as he caught the strap of his bag buried in between the bushes. He grabbed it, pulling it out and brushing off the twigs and leaves. He started at the set of pajamas he had thrown into the bag when he changed. He knew he could swap out what he had on for them, but they were all he had. If he waited till nightfall, he could change and find a laundry mat. There was a good chance that he would be able to find some loose change by then, plus no one would be around to possibly catch a glimpse of what he was washing.

Releasing a sigh, he laid back on the soft grass, trying to remember anything from the night.

Whose blood was staining his skin and clothes? Why was it there? What happened to the person it belonged to? Had he tried to save someone and suffered a blow to the head? It would explain the lack of memory.

It was the only option he would allow himself to consider, because he wasn't sure he could handle it being anything else.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony pulled the cap further down his head and put on his sunglasses as he exited his car.

He was surprised to find himself looking at a rather public park. If the kid was trying to stay low-key, this was a risky place to be.

Holding up his phone, he began the trek toward the location of the tracker. He wasn't sure what he was going to find, if he really found anything at all. Peter could have ditched his bag at some point, or even managed to have found the tracker and took it out.

Praying for the best, he continued on.

His phone ringing temporarily removed the tracker location as Pepper's face filled the screen. Frowning, he answered her call.

"Hey Pep, I'm-"

"Tony!" Pepper shouted into the phone. "We have to find Peter! There's been an incident not far from the home. Another body, the worst of them so far."

Tony felt a cold dread seep into his bones.

"They found blood in the alley beside the home Tony. They think who ever killed the man, caught him there and then took him away. Tony.....that maniac could have Peter!"

Pepper's hysterical sobs filled the phone.

"Pep, Pep, listen to me!"

There was a sniffle on the other side of the line as Pepper tried to compose herself.

"Has anyone talked to the kids?"

"Tony! They're missing too!"

"Great." Tony huffed, running a hand down his face.

"Pepper, I want to you focus on finding Wanda and Pietro."

"But Peter-"

"I'm handling Peter. Just, just trust me here Pep. Let me do this."

There was silence then the shuffle of someone moving around.

"Ok Tony. I'll call the others and tell them to focus on the twins." she took a deep breath. "Please, find my son, Tony."

"Let me know when you have the kids." Tony said, disconnecting the line.

He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, the calm, sunny day a stark contrast to the feelings inside him. On his phone, the little light continued to blink and Tony prayed he was going to be happy with what he found.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pietro looked at the building before him with wide eyes.

"You can't be serious."

"I am." Wanda said, eyes narrowed in determination. "We're going to make sure things go the way they need to."

Pietro huffed out a breath and ran his hand down his face before turning to her.

"We can't just walk in there, Wanda."

"We're not, but Kent and Kathy Matthews distant cousins are." she said casually.

"Now I know you're not being serious."

"I am. Now put on the rest of your outfit."

"Exactly what are you planning to do? This place is littered with cameras and, relatives or not, they're not going to let us see them. We don't even know if they're awake! They weren't exactly in the best of shape when they were brought in. Cl-those two random criminals did a work over on them."

"You forget," Wanda smirked. "I managed to get into the heads of the Avengers. I think I can handle things here."

"Again, the camera footage?" Pietro pushed.

"We'll collect it before we leave. No traces left behind."

"Ok, but what'd your goal here?"

Wanda paused, looking away from her brother and toward the building.

"We both know who's in that building, Pietro. They've mistreated him. Physical, mental and verbally abused him. I can't let them get off as easy as they're going to. Jail isn't good enough." she said, looking at him out the corner of her eye.

"I think you feel it too."

Pietro didn't respond for a moment, choosing to let her words sink in. She wasn't wrong. He didn't think a simple jail sentence, even if it was life, was good enough for all the damage they caused.

Squaring his shoulders, he took Wanda's hands and gave a squeeze.

"Yes, you're right. I think it might be a good idea for our cousins to do a little....reflection on their actions. Maybe try to picture themselves in their victim's shoes."

Wanda just returned the grin he flashed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony's anxiety spiked a little as he got closer to the location of the tracker. He was growing a little weary at the fact the signal hadn't moved at all since he locked on to it.

"Please let him be ok." Tony muttered, stopping where the tracker blinked.

Frowning, he looked around the area. Maybe Peter had ditched the tracker after all.

He had just about decided to continue on down the path when I slight shuffle from the bushes next to him caught his attention. Slowly, he made his way over, pushing aside the foliage.  

"Peter!"

Peter jumped, surprised by the shout as much as the fact someone had managed to sneak up on him. Rolling over, he stared wide-eyed into the equally wide-eyed face of Tony Stark.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pepper ran her hand through her hair as she waited on Sam to return to the car. Her nerves were strung tight as images of what could have happened to Peter flew through her head.

She barely knew the boy, but she had immediately fallen in love with him.

How could anyone not?

It was so easy to see past the evidence of abuse to the sweet boy buried inside. They had already glimpsed him through interactions with Spider-Man.

Peter held Spider-Man in such high regard that it was as if he saw himself as two separate people. That Peter Parker and Spider-Man weren't the same person.

Maybe that had been how he was able to maintain his upbeat attitude, because he clearly didn't hold the Peter Parker side of himself in such a light.

Still, somewhere out there was a lonely kid in desperate need of help.

She couldn't think anything less.

She couldn't think he wasn't.

She looked over as Sam opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat.

"Here." he said, handing her an iced coffee. "How are you holding up?"

"Been better." she sighed.

"Well, I'm not about to help matters." Sam winced as Pepper turned her puffy eyed face towards him.

"The twins are missing."

"They're what?" Pepper yelled.

"Just got off the phone with Steve. The kids bailed and haven't been seen since. They've tried finding them, but no luck."

Pepper narrowed her eyes.

"You don't believe him."

"Oh, I believe Steve wants me to be believe they can't find them. I think the truth is they don't really want to."

"Why not? Peter is already missing, now they are to!"

Sam sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"He think they know, or at least Nat does, where they went."

"And I'm guessing she's not telling, nor is she going after them herself."

"She wouldn't let them go if she didn't think it was something they needed to do or they couldn't handle. I'm sure they're fine. Let's just focus on finding Peter for now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well, I just got off the phone with Sam." Steve sighed, sitting down at the table next to Clint.

Peter's case file was once again spread out before them.

"Let me guess, he doesn't believe we don't know where they are."

"Well, we don't." Steve replied, motioning between Clint and himself. "She does."

The two looked over as Natasha typed away furiously on her laptop.

"Leave them be. They can handle their business. They'll be fine."

"You're not leaving us much of a choice." Clint huffed.

"What do you two know about the mysterious killer the police are chasing?"

Steve frowned as he shared a look with Clint before turning to Natasha.

"I know the police are mighty territorial about it. They're been very clear they don't want our involvement. I think its rather stupid considering the increase in attacks, manner of violence, and the fact there has been no real connection from one victim to the next-"

"Other than criminal history." Clint finished. "I may not approve of the guy's methods, but he's not exactly attacking the innocent here."

"Still, none of the other vigilantes in the city go that far-"

"Frank Castle and Deadpool-"

"Haven't been seen in the city in months. These attacks have only been happening the past two." Steve shot as Clint shrugged.

"Fine. So what's the point, Nat?" Clint asked, ignoring Steve's eye roll.

"Considering the Matthews, I decided to look into some of Peter's other foster families."

"And?"

"A few of them have joined the victims list."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Ma'am, I afraid we can't just let you in to see the Matthews. They're in police custody. You would have to have permission to-"

"I'm sure it won't be a problem for us to have just a few moments with them." Wanda smiled, her eyes flashing red.

The man stood frozen and silent for a moment before a dopey smile crossed his face.

"Of course. I don't see why not. I might do them good to have some family chastisement."

"Thank you."

The twins followed behind the doctor, Wanda stretching her powers out to touch each person they passed. They couldn't afford for anyone to give fully accurate descriptions of them, even if they were disguised.

"Around the corner is the room they're located in. Just give the officer outside the room your names."

The two nodded towards the man as he shuffled off back the way he came.

"So far so good. Let's see your next trick." Pietro whispered into Wanda's ear.

"Prepare to have your socks knocked off." she smirked, leading the way.

As they approached the room, the officer stationed outside stood to face them.

"I suggest the two of you turn and leave. This couple is under arrest and police observation."

"We're their cousi-" Pietro started before being cut off.

"I don't care who you are. No one is getting through that door. I don't know how you made it this far, but I'm going to have security escort you-"

"Surely you understand our need to see family." Wanda smiled sweetly, her eyes flashing red.

The officer looked at the blankly before nodding with a smile.

"Please, go right in."

"Thank you."

"Wow. Those training sessions are really paying off." Pietro whispered in her ear as they entered the room and shut the door behind them.

"Nat is brutal." Wanda replied.

The two stopped talking as they took in the ghastly sight of Kathy and Kent Matthews. The damage Clint and Natasha had inflicted had been highly underrated by the officers and social worker that had taken Peter away.

"Well, is it wrong that I don't feel at all bad seeing them this way?" Pietro asked, stepping up to the foot of Kathy's bed.

"This will pale in comparison to what I'm about to do." Wanda said, eyes narrowed. "They're bodies have been pushed to the limit, but I'm going to break their minds."

Pietro watched as Wanda stepped in between the two beds.

"I want you both awake for this." she said lowly, raising her hands and touching their foreheads.

The Matthews gasped in both pain and shock as their eyes flew open and consciousness returned to them.

"Hello there." Pietro grinned, leaning down on Kathy's bed.

"Who the hell are you?" Kathy asked, voice raspy.

To her right, Kent looked at the two intruders, unable to speak as his mouth was to swollen.

"It doesn't matter who we are." Wanda hissed. "What matters, is that you understand the atrocities you've committed, and that you will admit to your actions."

"You're insane." Kathy's eyes narrowed. "We're not admitting anything. How did you even get in here?"

"Tsk tsk." Pietro frowned, shaking his head. "That's not what we wanted to hear."

"No, it isn't." Wanda glared.

"Get out!" Kathy rasped.

"Not without a little parting gift." Wanda smiled wickedly.

"I'm going to let your mind pick itself apart. Everything horrible thing you've done to someone, you're going to know what it's like. You're going to feel the pain you've caused. You'll be begging for mercy long before it's over. I hope it wrecks you."

Pietro watched as Wanda's finger tips swirled with red magic as she placed each of her hands on the forehead of Kathy and Kent.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Kid, what happened?" Tony panicked, pushing to himself into Peter's hiding spot. "Are you ok? You're covered in blood!"

Peter couldn't speak as Tony frantically checked him over for any serious wounds.

"Jesus, kid." Tony sighed. "You had us all worried."

"H-how did you...."

"I put a tracker in your bag." Tony answered, no longer guilty for his actions.

"You put a tracker in my bag?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Pete, I know the signs of avoidance better than anyone. It was written all over your face and body language. You had no intention of facing what was coming your way." Tony said, still studying Peter for injuries.

He knew the boy healed fast, but some wounds healed faster than others. Pepper and the twins would be furious if Peter was returned without care.

"I...I can't..."

"Come on kid, let's go get you cleaned up."

"No." Peter said, pushing further back from the billionaire. "I'm not going with you."

"Pete," Tony sighed. "You have three of the most powerful and influential people in the world focused on you right now, how far do you think you'll get?"

Peter frowned, looking down at the grass.

"They need to focus on someone else." he sniffed.

"And who would that be?"

"Anyone but me."

Tony narrowed his eyes as Peter still refused to look at him.

"Kid, they're not the only ones looking for you. Your little stunt, as I'm sure you know, wasn't unnoticed. The home called the police. Your description is out there and they're looking for you. Where do you plan on going?"

Peter felt the uncomfortable sting of tears in his eyes.

"I thought so." Tony frowned. "Come on kid, let us help you."

"You can't!" Peter yelled, pushing away further. "You can't help me and you shouldn't help me! You're wasting your time, all of you! You'll take me back and wish you hadn't! Just leave me alone and you'll be better off."

Tony watched as silent tears slid down the boy's dirty face. In all his years, he couldn't say a child's tears had ever affected him as much as Peter's did.

"You can't disappoint them, Peter."

"You don't know me."

It was true. Tony didn't really know Peter. Hell, he didn't really know Spider-Man all the well. Sure, he had worked with him enough to get a bit attached to his upbeat attitude, but these past few days had thrown all he knew out the window.

Spider-Man and Peter Parker were both the same person, and yet not. Peter had worked hard to give them a distinction. It was a little concerning.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Tony finally crossed, what he was positive was, the last line.

"Look, Peter. You're soulmates with Wanda and Pietro, and they love you already. Pepper was ready to adopt you the moment we learned about your situation. As soon as she does, and she will, that makes you my son and I protect what's mine. So, we can do this one of two ways."

Peter finally looked up at Tony's words, a feeling of dread creeping up his spine at the tone.

"One, you come with me willingly. Two.......I put you in a suit and take you back by force."

Peter froze.

He couldn't be serious.

A long look at Tony's face told him he was.

Peter's thoughts whirled inside him. He wanted to feel anger. Anger at Tony for tracking him. Anger at Tony for threatening him. Anger at Pepper wanting to adopt him.

Anger and Wanda and Pietro for being their soulmate.

He was supposed to age out of the foster system and be on his own. Never find his soulmate or mates.

Never hurt them.

Never cause them sorrow.

That's all Peter Parker was good for anyway.

There was only one choice.

Forgoing his bag, Peter darted out of his hiding place. He was small and fast. There was no way Tony would be able to catch him. He would just have to keep running until he couldn't anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Wow. These are brutal." Clint winced as he looked over the crime scene photos of Peter's former fosters.

"They're some of the worst." Natasha nodded with a frown.

"The Matthews were pretty nasty." Steve frowned. "Maybe they were worse."

"Or maybe the Matthews just got lucky enough to be victims of a break-in instead of this guy." Clint replied, completely unphased by his mentioning of the strange event surround the Matthews.

"Should we look into them?" Steve asked, crossing his arms.

"Normally I'd say yes," Natasha shrugged. "But I could really care less at this point. Whatever they did, they paid for it. Looking into them won't change anything now."

"This guy is all over the city." Clint whistled. "I mean, the killings have no pattern to place. The only links are criminals and the fact they all happen at night."

"Does anyone know if Peter was looking into this?"

Natasha and Clint both paused.

"I mean, he's on the streets every night as Spider-Man. I can't see him ignoring it."

"He's not the only vigilante out there, though." Natasha replied, leaning back in her chair. "Maybe they all are."

"I know that look." Clint huffed. "Who's at the top of your list?"

"There was an attack in Hell's Kitchen not to long ago. I can't imagine the Devil of Hell's Kitchen isn't investigating."

"Does Spider-Man know him?"

Natasha shrugged at Steve's question.

"Spider-Man has been seen talking to him once or twice. Just how well they know each other is unclear."

"Why are we asking this again? I'm pretty sure local law enforcement doesn't want us 'intruding on their territory'." Clint scoffed.

"The Matthews are about to be involved in a high profile crime case." Steve said, looking up at the ceiling. "If the guy doesn't already know about them, he will soon."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tony sighed as Peter darted out the bushes. He had really hoped the kid would come along willingly.

"FRI, launch the suit."

Back at Tony's car, the emergency suit engaged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter had a brief ting of his Spider Sense before he found himself enclosed in, what he knew, was an Iron Man suit.

Tony hadn't been lying.

"Let me out!" he screamed, watching as the ground got further and further away.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Peter." FRIDAY's calm voice filled his ears.

"Releasing you from the suit would cause you serious injuries from your fall."

"This is kidnapping!" Peter shouted, desperate to reason with the AI.

"Technically it's a rescue." Tony's voice came through the speakers. "You're a runaway kid. I'm rescuing you from the streets and possible danger."

"I didn't ask you to!"

"I'm going to anyway."

As he tried to decide if the risk of breaking out of the speeding suit was worth it, a thought struck him.

The voice of anger that had rose up in him, was silent.

The time the voice should have been the loudest, and there was nothing.

He didn't know what to think of it.

"Trust me kid. You may not think it now, but you're going to thank me later."

Peter didn't reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pepper snatched up her phone as it buzzed in the console.

Sam watched as she fumbled to turn it on to see the message.

/I've got him. I'm taking him to the compound. He's escaped from one home, he'll escape another./

A tear slipped down her cheek as she quickly sent a reply.

"Please tell me it's good news." Sam said, looking at her hopefully.

"Tony found him. He's taking him back to the compound."

"Well, I guess we should go alert the cops and the home."

Pepper nodded, putting the car in drive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Incoming call from Boss.”

“Patch him through FRIDAY.” Steve replied.

“I have a special package in the way. Make sure you secure it when it gets there. I’m about 10 minutes behind it.”

“Package? You order us something special, Tony?” Clint smirked.

“If you consider the insecure, disgruntled, wonder twins teen soulmate ‘special’, then yes.”

“What do you mean ‘10 minutes behind’?” Natasha asked, raising an eyebrow at Clint and Steve.

“He’s in the suit. Kid tried to run again. Hence the ‘secure it’ warning.”

“You put the kid in a suit?” Steve groaned. “Tony...”

“No choice Cap. You'll see when why when he shows up. I'll be there shortly."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as the line went dead.

"Well, come on boys. Let's go greet our little Spider-Baby." Natasha smirked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter felt his nerves spike as the compound came into view. He knew as soon the suit landed that would be it for anymore escape attempts.

He most likely wouldn't be allowed out of anyone's sight any time soon.

"Your vitals are concerning, Peter. If they continue in this fashion, I will have to alert Boss of your distress."

Distress!

Of course he was in distress!

This was the last thing he wanted. He wasn't supposed to come back to the compound. He wasn't ever supposed to see any of the Avengers again! Spider-Man was supposed to leave New York. Branch out somewhere new. Maybe even become an entirely new vigilante even!

It had been a small thought in his mind for a while. He loved being Spider-Man. It was the only good part about him anymore. Spider-Man was useful and, for the most part, people loved him.

Spider-Man was everything Peter Parker was not.

Spider-Man was also easy to track. If he left New York, word of him showing up somewhere else would spread quickly, and no doubt the Avengers would be on his doorstep before he could blink.

No, Spider-Man would have to take a break and let a new hero step in for a bit.

It was sad, but also ok. It didn't matter what suit he wore, he was still Spider-Man regardless.

That, however, was quickly becoming a distant option.

He would be trapped with the Avengers, with his soulmates. There would be no way to hide all the things wrong with him.

They would learn quickly that he just wasn't meant to be loved anymore. He lost that right when May died.

When May died, he learned he should have been left alone.

"Prepare for landing, Peter. I have alerted those at the compound of your condition since Boss hasn't arrived yet."

Tony wasn't there?

Peter wasn't sure why that bothered him. The man had only betrayed his trust over and over, there was no reason to care anything about him.

Immediately, Peter felt the guilt creep up on him.

This was exactly part of his problem. Tony had done what he had to, and Peter was being his normal, ungrateful self.

This was why he didn't deserve kindness. This was why when someone did show a hint of care, Peter knew they were wasting their time and would ultimately be disappointed in him.

There was a jolt as the suit landed and a brief moment before the pieces separated, revealing him to Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, and Clint Barton.

"Welcome back little spider." Natasha smiled

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wanda leaned against the car as she waited for Pietro to round up the security tapes. She felt confident in the knowledge that, when they awoke, Kent and Kathy Matthews would be screaming their guilt.

With any luck, they'd never spend another night without the nightmares of what they saw.

"Got them." Pietro grinned, holding up the tapes as he stopped next to her.

"Good." Wanda smirked. "Maybe we won't be in quite as much trouble."

"Oh, we'll definitely be in trouble. Still, if ends in them paying for what they've done, I'll gladly take whatever punishment we're given."

Wanda nodded in agreement as she pulled out the keys to the car.

"No way!" Pietro said, snatching them from her hand.

"You almost killed us on the way here. I'm driving back. I want to be able to see Peter again."

Wanda puffed out her cheeks in frustration.

"My driving is perfectly fine and I want to see Peter too!"

"Then get in the car. I'll deliver us safely back to the compound."

"Whatever." she huffed, grumpily getting into the passenger seat and crossing her arms.

[starshine583]

Le Paon Part 4

(Here’s another part of the Le Paon AU! Tell me what you think and if you want more!)

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 5

Felix didn’t bother hiding his scowl as he marched straight to his father’s office. Sitting in a room with nothing but the monotone voice of underpaid teachers blandly explaining things he’d mastered at the age of five gave him plenty of time to stew about the events of today’s akuma. 

Adrien, smartly, didn’t question his intentions, instead quietly shuffling for the stairs. 

Nathalie, foolishly, stood in front of the door, arching her brow.

“You’re father’s busy right now, Fe-”

“Can it, Sancoeur. I’m not in the mood.” He grit, pushing right past her and ripping the door open.

Gabriel stared down at his computer screen, unblinking, no doubt sketching another design that would look to be inspired from a trash bin. 

Felix curled his hands into fists. The man didn’t so much as glance his way! Did he even care about what happened?

“What was that!” He yelled. 

Gabriel looked at him then, a sharpness in his eyes that made Felix falter for only a moment.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” 

Felix rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Adrien’s out of range so drop it. You nearly killed at least half a dozen people today, me included!”

Gabriel sighed- as if he was the one being outrageous! “I can’t predict where the akumas rampage. If you’re so distressed about it, though, I’ll try to steer them clear of you next time.”

“Forget about the akuma getting to the school!” As annoying as that was. “We almost killed people today!” 

As far as he knew, they probably did kill somebody. “I thought this was supposed to be about the miraculous.”

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. “It is, but sacrifices must be made, Felix.”

Felix opened his mouth to argue, but Gabriel held up his hand to silence him.

“When we get the Ladybug miraculous, everything will be fixed. In the meantime, Ladybug has her ‘miraculous cure’,” A smirk- unsettling, at that -crossed his lips as he gestured to Felix’s chest, “As you’ve seen today.”

Felix tensed, his hand instinctively coming up to touch the previously healed injury from the fight. “How did you..” 

“I see what my akuma sees. I knew everything that happens during the battle.” Something in his tone sounded sinister to Felix. He couldn’t decide if the statement was a threat or simply new information.

“What about Adrien?” He asked next. His little brother might be a bit more naive, but he wasn’t stupid. They couldn’t keep this a secret from him forever. What happened if he found out first? What would he assume? What would he do? 

“He will know when the time is right.” Gabriel answered, turning back to his screen. “Now go finish your homework before your brother gets suspicious.”

Felix bit back a snarky response, spinning on his heel and leaving as told. He made sure to send Nathalie an overly cold glare on his way out, which she returned with an ever-so-faint smirk. Gosh, he couldn’t stand that woman, acting so high and mighty simply because she worked for Gabriel Agreste when in reality she was only a brainless- and infatuated, apparently -puppet who scrambled after his every word. Disgusting.

He opened his bedroom door, and a flash of black zipped by. Felix blinked, reaching up to rub his eyes. Did the lights just black out for a second? Or was he seeing things now? This better not be a miraculous effect.

“Oh, hey, Fe. Done with Father already?” Adrien asked, taking Felix from his thoughts. 

“I only had a few questions to ask him.” He replied, hanging up his bag and turned slightly, just enough for Adrien not to notice Duusu flying into his vest pocket.

“Huh. I thought you’d take longer than that. You looked pretty mad.” 

Felix shrugged, passing the room to lounge on the couch. 

He rolled his eyes when he caught a glimpse of Adrien’s computer screen. “You’re reading that tabloid?” 

Adrien swiveled around in his wheely-chair, clicking the “minus” button on the Ladyblog. “It’s not a tabloid, Felix. All information on the Ladyblog is fact checked and straight from the heroes.”

Felix scoffed, settling on the couch with his book. As if any reporter would ever be that genuine. People who went into that business were nothing more than talent-less idiots desperate for a scrap of fame. 

“Come on, you don’t want to know about Paris’ heroes?” 

“No.” He knew enough about them already, like the fact that Ladybug’s insecure despite being more than capable of her job, and that she probably hated his guts after what he did that morning.

Adrien sighed and turned back to his computer screen. “Well, I think they’re cool. Sucks that the Le Paon guy turned out to be a jerk.”

Felix sat up at that, nearly dropping his book on the floor. “What did you say?” 

“Oh, you’re interested now?” Adrien retorted, rolling back to show him the computer. 

An image of his alter ego clearly kicking Ladybug in the chest resided on the screen, and Felix winced. Adrien kept scrolling, revealing picture after picture of their fight. Who took these? How did he not notice a random citizen taking his photo?

The horrifying collection ended with a video of Alya Cessaire talking with none other than the citizen he saved from The Constructor’s wrecking ball.

~Yeah, I guess he saved me, but who’s to say he wasn’t the reason I was in danger in the first place?~

Note to self: Maybe we should just let the civilians fend for themselves. Felix thought bitterly, though he knew they had a point. It’s hard to appreciate someone saving you when that someone is also the cause of your peril. 

“I heard he even tricked Ladybug into thinking he was a hero before trying to take her miraculous. How can someone be so cruel?” Adrien said, shaking his head.

“Well, neither of us were there.” Felix found himself saying. “Maybe we don’t have the whole story.”

Like their mother currently laying underneath their mansion in an incurable coma, and the possibility of her being saved if the two miraculous were brought together. 

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows. “Fe, he lured her into a false sense of trust for his own personal gain. Only a villain would do something like that.” 

You don’t have to remind me. He mentally groaned. The way Adrien talked made Le Paon sound like some sort of monster. Maybe he was.

“I suppose.”

“Hey, what’s up with you today?” Adrien frowned. “You’re normally the ‘logical’ one here.” 

Felix pulled a small smile. “I’ve been preoccupied is all, adjusting to school life and all of that.”

Adrien hummed. “I guess that makes sense. Anyway, since you’re in a talking mood, what do you think about Chat Noir? He’s pretty awesome isn’t he?” 

Felix tisked, rubbing his side. He remembered the blonde’s staff more than the hero himself. “A good fighter, I’ll give him that, but he’s also reckless. He doesn’t think things through when he attacks.”

Adrien sputtered, obviously trying to find an argument for the statement. 

“I- you -I thought you said you didn’t pay attention to the heroes.” He finally replied with crossed arms. Why did he look so offended?

“I don’t. It’s just an observation.” Felix stated, picking up his book to resume reading. 

“Whatever.” Adrien grumbled, turning back to the computer.

Felix rose a brow, but didn’t bother questioning the shift in mood. Adrien was the one that asked about his opinion. If he didn’t like it, then that was his problem. 

~~~~~~

“Did you guys see the pictures?” Claude asked eagerly, throwing his bag on the desk.

Felix sighed and closed his book. There was no point in trying to read when Claude started one of his stories. 

“The pictures on the Ladyblog?” Allan guessed. 

“Yeah! Credit to the awesome cameraman, of course.” The brunette grinned, straightening with pride.

“Claude, are you sure you should be that close to the fight? Someone almost got crushed yesterday.” Allegra frowned as she sat down next to Allan.

Claude scoffed and waved his hand. “That’s what makes it interesting. Besides, I can’t let Alya down. Who else could get those awesome camera angles?”

“Well, there’s-”

“No one. That’s who.” Claude interrupted, placing his hands on his hips.

Felix rolled his eyes. “Was there a point to this conversation?” 

“Oh, yeah. Did you hear about Le Paon yesterday? What a jerk!”

Felix resisted the urge to face palm. He should have known better than to ask.

“I watched the video, but I didn’t understand what happened. They say the blue guy from yesterday was a villain?” Allan asked. 

“Le Paon and yes, he’s a villain working with Hawkmoth. Rumor has it that Ladybug thought he was a hero at first. Can you believe that? Tricking someone into believing you’re good just to literally kick them down? Even Felix isn’t that heartless!” Claude huffed.

Thank goodness the others were too invested in Claude to see Felix twitch. He couldn’t get a break could he? I mean, he deserved every word, but that didn’t make it any less aggravating. Was everyone going to remind him of his rash decisions this week? 

Allegra hummed, setting her chin on the back of her hand with an amused smile. “Someone more heartless than Felix? That is interesting. Maybe you should make a blog about Le Paon instead.” 

“As if. A blog about Le Paon would never be popular.” Claude replied matter-of-factly.

Allegra narrowed her eyes. “And how would you know?”

“Um, do you see any Le Paon blogs? Have you heard of any?” Claude continued before she could answer. “No. No, you haven’t. Case in point.” 

“Maybe no one’s thought of it yet?” Allan spoke up.

Claude threw him a light-hearted glare. “Don’t side with her.” 

Felix, for once, nodded in agreement. Alya and Claude were bad enough without Allegra and whoever she’d drag along on the scene. It was just more people to save and keep out of trouble, more distractions to keep him from Ladybug and Chat Noir.

“You know what, Claude? You’re on. I accept your challenge.” Allegra decided.

“What?” Felix and Claude asked in unison. Challenge? What challenge? Nobody initiated a challenge!

“I’m gonna make a blog for Le Paon, and you’re gonna sit there and watch the views skyrocket.” She stated, a determined gleam coming to her eyes.

Felix sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. How did he not see this coming? It’s only his luck that these three would inconvenience him in both his civilian and his miraculous life.

“That takes a lot of work, you know. You have to set up the account, find someone for the footage, work out names and contacts. Not to mention listing all of the sources..” He listed off, hoping to dissuade her.

Unfortunately, his words only fanned the flames. 

“Oh, so you’re doubting me too?” She asked, raising a brow.

“I simply-”

“No, I understand.” Allegra cut him off. “You guys don’t think I can make Le Paon a hit because he had a bad first impression.”

“I didn’t say that.” Allan said, somewhat sheepishly.

The blonde smiled, leaning forward to pat him on the head. “I know you didn’t. You’re safe.” 

Allan blew out a sigh of relief and went back to his music. 

“Anyway, I’ll be waiting for an apology when my blog drives Claude’s into the ground.” 

Felix rolled his eyes. So this was really happening. Wonderful. Perhaps Father could persuade some of the akumas to give the reporters a free pass? 

Claude scoffed. “Oh- oh, I see how it is. I was just gonna let you do whatever, but fine. May the best blogger win.” 

Allegra stood, narrowing her eyes with determination. “Don’t worry. I will.”

~~~~~~

Marinette stared down at the screen, a frown tugging at the corner of her lips. What’s the nicest way to say “No” to someone?

“I don’t know, Allegra..”

“Come on, Nette, please.” The blonde pleaded. “Alya has a cameraman for her blog, and I need to out-do her.”

“Why me?” Seriously, why did it have to be her? Why not Allan? Or Felix? Or anyone else who didn’t have a miraculous and a crucial responsibility to protect Paris.

“You’re an artist, which means you have an eye for the best angles and such.” Allegra explained.

“I’m not that kind of artist.” Marinette sighed. “What about Nathaniel?”

You know, someone who actually knows a thing or two about angles?

“He’s too scared to run into the action with me. You’re the only one I’ve seen run towards an akuma fight aside from Alya and Claude!” 

Marinette grimaced under Allegra’s puppy-like gaze. There was a reason she ran into those fights! A very important reason that couldn’t be pushed to the side because of something Claude said earlier!

Her eyes flicked to the phone again, looking over the blue and purple-themed blog that had “Birds of a Feather” at the top. Honestly, why would Allegra even want to make a blog about Le Paon? He’s nothing but a manipulative liar who only cares about himself. 

Allegra waited patiently for her reply, though Marinette knew she wasn’t going to back down if her answer was “no”. If anything, she’d either continue to bug her or find another cameraman to get herself killed with.

“I’ll think about it.” She finally relented, ignoring the thump of her purse against her leg. At the very least, she might be able to steer Allegra out of the akuma’s grasp.

Allegra grinned and threw her arms around Marinette. “Thanks a ton! You won’t regret it, promise!” 

Marinette chuckled, hugging Allegra back. Tikki’s lecture was already playing through her mind. “You shouldn’t put yourself in complicated situations like this. You’re responsibility as Ladybug always needs to come first. At worst, you lied to your friend about being able to make time for her.”

In her defense, it’s not like she could just decline. Everyone knows that when Allegra’s mind is set, there’s no changing it. If she wanted Marinette to be her camerawoman, then that’s what was going to happen, whether it took Allegra constantly asking or “conveniently” finding her during akuma fights and throwing her the phone. That could jeopardize her secret identity. So, when you think about it, she had to help Allegra.

At least, that’s what Marinette told herself during the walk home. 

“Marinette, You forgot to do the dishes last night.” Her mother commented as she opened the front door to the bakery.

Marinette winced. “Ah, sorry Maman. I’ll go do them now.”

Sabine gave her a fond smile and nodded. “There’s a bowl of fruit on the dining room table to snack on while you work on your homework afterwards.”

Marinette kissed her on the cheek with a “thanks!” and headed upstairs. She’d start on the dishes as soon as she let Tikki out of her bag in her room. 

Pushing open her trap door, Marinette gently set her bag to the side and climbed the ladder. Tikki flew out of the unzipped top, fixing her with a displeased look as she pulled out her laptop.

“Marinette, you know better than to make promises you can’t keep.” The small, god-like being began, exactly as she had predicted.

“I know, I know, but what was I supposed to do? She wasn’t going to stop asking, and at least this way, I can keep an eye on her.” Marinette said, repeating the argument she’d prepared earlier.

Tikki sighed, zipping over to the plate of cookies on her desk. “But how are you going to manage recording the akumas and fighting them?”

Marinette bit her lip. “I.. I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

She opened her laptop and searched for Allegra’s blog again. Because of her internal freak out during the blonde’s request, she hadn’t been able to read the few posts Allegra made. It was a hope that she would have something useful on the mysterious villain.

How did she have time to make this? Marinette thought as she scrolled through the web page. Didn’t she say the argument took place that morning? “Birds of a Feather” already had a theme, introduction, and several pictures- albeit a bit blurry -from the news reports. Unfortunately, the blog didn’t have any new information for her.

“Marinette, you should do the dishes before you forget.” Tikki advised, munching on her second cookie.

Marinette, knowing she was right, sighed and stood up, leaving the computer on. She could always read through the blog later. Dishes shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes, anyway.

She walked back downstairs and turned on the faucet. While the water filled the sink, the dirty dishes were piled on the counter, and a clean space was made for the freshly washed ones. The purple dishrag twisted easily in her hands, letting the soap bubbles run over her fingers. 

Bells chimed faintly below, and Marinette pictured the customer that might be walking in. Maybe a young woman looking for sweets for her daughter’s bake sale. Or perhaps an esteemed gentlemen in need of a caterer to really sell his newest ideas at a business meeting. It might even be a little kid who’d wandered into the store. 

“I’d like two batches of truffles, please.” 

Marinette stopped short when a familiar voice echoed softly through the vents. 

“Of course! Anything else?” Her mother asked politely.

“No, that’ll be all, thank you.” 

Her dish slipped back into the sink. Was that.. Felix? That couldn’t be him, right? She couldn’t sworn Adrien mentioned his distaste for sweets the other day. 

Marinette swiftly washed and dried her soapy hands. Maman shouldn’t mind a small interruption as long as she finished the dishes at some point.

~~~~~~

Felix grumbled under his breath as he felt the car roll to a stop in front of the bakery. He thought that platter of truffles would last Duusu about a week, but she ate them all in one night! How could something so small eat so much? 

A soft bell chime greeted him as he pushed open the glass door, and the smell of freshly baked croissants prompted him to take a deep breath. 

“Can I help you?” 

A small, Asian woman stood at the cash register, offering him a smile that seemed vaguely familiar. 

“I’d like two batches of truffles, please.” He requested.

She nodded, her short, raven hair bouncing with the notion. It reminded him of two pairs of pigtails, one from a spotted heroine and one from a scatter-brained classmate.

“Of course! Anything else?” 

“No, that’ll be all, thank you.” 

The woman took his credit card for the payment and gave him the receipt. She then crossed the shop to a certain glass case and put his truffles in a bag.

“Felix?” 

Felix spun around, surprised to find bluebell eyes staring at him.

Speaking of scatterbrained classmates.

“Marinette? What are you doing here?” 

“It’s.. uhm.. It’s my parents bakery.” She replied, gesturing to the white words ingrained in the glass of the Cashier’s counter.

D-C Boulangerie Patisserie

D-C. 

Dupain-Cheng.

Felix face palmed. “Ah. Of course.”

Marinette giggled and closed the gap between them, choosing to lean on the counter as she asked, “What brings you here? I thought you didn’t like sweets.”

Felix ran a hand through his hair, mind suddenly blank. Why did he come here again?

A small shift in his pocket reminded him, but he couldn’t tell her about that little secret.

“Adrien likes sweets, and the personal chef took the day off for some family emergency.” A half truth. Both statements were accurate, though neither were the reason for his visit.

“Gotcha. Hope everything’s alright with the chef’s family.” 

He nodded, hiding his surprise by glancing at her mother again. (The relationship between the two explained the similar hair and smile.) To be honest, Felix hadn’t thought much about the chef’s situation. He just knew that they were gone, and it was inconvenient. 

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng picked that moment to approach them, bag in hand.

“You two know each other?” She inquired, an odd sparkle coming to her almond eyes.

“Maman, this is Felix. He just started attending our school last week. Felix, this is Sabine, my mom.” Marinette introduced, gesturing between them as she spoke. 

Felix extended his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Sabine scoffed, taking his hand with both of hers. “Oh no, dear, call me ‘Sabine’. There’s no need to be so formal.”

He returned her soft smile and nodded. It was amazing, honestly. He’d thought Marinette was the only one who could be so warm and inviting, but this entire family screamed “welcome home”. Then again, he supposed she had to learn it somewhere.

“Oh! Marinette, why don’t you show him upstairs? I’m sure he’d love a tour.”

Felix tensed. A tour? Of what? 

“Uh.. sure, but does Felix have time for that?” Marinette asked, sparing him a glance.

The concern was reasonable. Adrien’s schedules were usually packed with lessons and photo shoots and other things Father assumed he needed. Felix, however, had the convenience of being on the business end of the company, meaning he didn’t have to model for their products. It gave him far more free time.

“My schedule is clear for the time being. What are we touring?” 

Duusu could wait for his truffles a little longer. Right now he wanted to indulge on the opportunity to see what exactly made the Dupain-Cheng household so open and relaxing.

Marinette perked up. “Just the house. I mean, you can see the big kitchen too, if you want.”

“I think I’ll save it for later.” He replied, a smirk crossing his lips.

She put a hand to her mouth as she chuckled and spun on her heel. “It’s right up the stairs.”

He followed her up the blue staircase, sliding his hand along the banner as he went. The layout reminded him of an apartment building, with the cracked, wooden floors and old carpet rolled out in the hallway.

Marinette stopped in front of a lone door and easily pushed it open. Felix walked in after her, stepping into another small hallway that led to a decent sized kitchen and family room. 

“This is our place. It’s sort of small, but I like to think of it as ‘cozy’.” Marinette said, stopping at the stairs just inside the house. 

Felix hummed, taking in the environment. A cream colored couch resided on the far left side of the room, with a tv sitting across from it and a small, white coffee table in between. Their kitchen was to the right, mostly counters with a few bar stools to create a useful table when necessary. The many windows shed light on it all, making him wonder how dark it must be at night. 

Next, she brought him up the other set of stairs to a trapdoor. A bit unusual, but Marinette didn’t seem to bat an eye as she threw it open and climbed inside.

The first minutes in the room were spent letting his eyes adjust. If he thought the living room below was bright, then this attic had to be the sun itself. Not to mention everything and anything was all one color: pink. 

“And this is my room.” Marinette announced, walking over to the desk that was tucked between a ladder and the crawl space above.

I can’t imagine it looking any different. Felix thought to himself. Her desk was cluttered with papers and pictures, some of her family, some of her friends, none of him. (Why that bothered Felix, he didn’t know.) Her vanity had a few trinkets on it- a semi-circle shaped box with a notebook inside, a brush, and a round bottle of perfume. A large chaise sat to the right of the room, next to a black, full-length mirror. Lastly, there was a mannequin that stood next to the mirror, wearing an interesting choice of clothing.

“Did you make this?” He found himself asking, feeling the fabric of the pink, fluffed out dress. It’s a design he’d seen yet, and Felix prided himself in memorizing the popular fashions around Paris, Agreste brand included, of course.

“That?” Marinette replied, coming to stand next to him. “It’s just something I’ve been playing with, but yeah, I made it.”

Playing with? The dress was obviously hand-sewn, but in a masterful, refined way. She’d practiced- no, perfected -this craft. The ruffles that started from the waist down were swept over each other like rose petals, soft and delicate. Two butterflies were sewn into the side, almost like ribbons. Each pattern was carefully aligned, spreading black flowers across the pink fabric. Not a single stitch looked to be out of place. This wasn’t something she was “playing with”. This was-

“Amazing.” He muttered. “This is incredible work, Marinette.”

A blush bloomed across her cheeks. “What? No, no- I mean, it’s not even finished yet.”

“Nonsense. This dress is better than most of the atrocities people try to present to my Father.” He insisted.

Her blush deepened, and Felix couldn’t help smiling at it. 

“Do you have any more of these?”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows. “More of the dress?”

“More of your designs.” He elaborated, straightening to look at her desk full of papers. ��I’m sure Father would love to see them.” 

“Your- the Agreste?- I mean, Monsieur Agreste? He’s gonna- my designs?” She sputtered, putting her arms around her face in an odd, box-like position. 

Felix laughed. “If you don’t mind.”

Marinette whimpered- he hoped out of nervousness. It wouldn’t be a good first impression in her home to make her uncomfortable.

“No- uh- It’s just.. What if he- he doesn’t.. Like it?” She asked, fiddling with her pigtails.

“Impossible.” He scoffed. “This dress alone proves how much raw talent you have, and it’s not even finished. If my Father doesn’t see that, then he might as well close his business right now.” 

Felix put a hand on her shoulder. “Marinette, You are unbelievably brilliant. Don’t cut yourself short.”

A bashful smile spread across her lips, but she nodded. “O-Okay. Let me find some that are finished though!”

His hand slipped off her shoulder as she scrambled off to her closet. He followed, ignoring the strange feeling of disappointment at the loss of touch. 

Clothes were thrown this way and that as she searched through the outfits, deciding which one to give him. A small pile had grown in the corner of the room by the time she finally found a suitable arrangement. Two, to be exact. 

“These are the ones I like best. I have the original sketches for them in a drawer, if you want those too.” She offered, handing him the outfits.

“That would splendid, thank you.” 

Marinette crossed the room again, giving him time to inspect the other creations she’d given him. The first was a white, turtle-necked crop top with a pink jacket and black, ripped up jeans. The other was another dress- this time light blue -that was, in a word, frilly. Nevertheless, the material was just as impressive as the outfit on the mannequin.

“Here are the sketches. If you need anything else..” She trailed off.

Felix took the sketches with a nod. “That’ll do perfectly.”

~~~~~~

Tikki quietly watched Felix and Marinette interact from the safety of Marinette’s bed. He’d never see her up there, and if he did, he would most likely assume she’s a toy. 

Her eyes narrowed when the blonde put a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. Something about him seemed.. Off. She couldn’t put her finger on it. There was a certain feeling about him that made her suspicious. What were his motives? Why was he there?

Marinette seemed happy talking to him, blushing and stuttering from his proposal. It was a sweet thing to do, really. Vouching for the ravenette’s designs would certainly help her career.

...but there was still that feeling!

Tikki huffed, zipping down to hide behind Marinette’s computer. The closer she got to him, the stronger the feeling became. Yes, she’d felt this before. It was unique. But where? Why did it bother her? 

Marinette walked over to her drawers while Felix studied the clothes she’d given him moments before. It gave Tikki the cover she needed to sneak over to the chaise. Sitting so close to the boy now, the feeling seemed to overwhelm her- a sensation rippling through her entire body. It wasn’t unsettling, though. It was.. Familiar.

Duusu.

“Here are the sketches. If you need anything else..” Marinette’s muffled voice trailed off, and Tikki peeked around the chaise just in time to see Felix take some papers from her. 

“That’ll do perfectly.”

Tikki frowned. Why would Felix have Duusu? Didn’t Marinette say he was the boy that taught her painting? He was just a high school student. How did he even find a miraculous? 

A buzzing interrupted them, and Felix pulled out his phone.

“Ah. I’m sorry to say I must be going. Father wants me home for homework and violin lessons.”

“You play violin?” Marinette inquired, clearly awed by the fact.

Felix smiled- a smile much too soft for one of Paris’ most wanted. “I do. It’s another talent he thought I should have.”

“Will you.. Do you think you can play for me some time? If it’s not too much trouble, that is.”

Tikki couldn’t help chuckling at her chosen, always so sweet and thoughtful.

The boy’s smile faded, but he didn’t show any contempt either. He looked more of.. Grieved. 

“I’ll have to think about it.” 

“Of course, I completely understand.” Marinette replied, obviously picking up on his shift in mood as well. “See you tomorrow?”

His expression softened again, and he nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Tikki followed the blonde out of her room- as he insisted he remembered the way back- and made sure to stay well hidden. Marinette had a habit of letting her out of her bag when she thought no one was around. Maybe this boy did the same for Duusu. 

Sure enough, when Felix stepped out into the hallway, He took one of the truffles he’d purchased and stuffed it in his vest pocket. Someone who wore designer clothing wouldn’t put chocolate in their pockets so casually.

A few seconds later, a small voice piped up. “Mm, these are delicious! So much better than the bland ones your chef made!”

Tikki barely held back a gasp. She’d recognize that energetic voice anywhere.

“Hush, Duusu. Wait until we’re at home to talk, remember?” Felix scolded in a whisper, shooting his vest a disapproving look.

“Of course! I’m sorry.” Duusu apologized.

“It’s fine, just wait till later.” 

Tikki frowned. The character Felix had shown so far was nothing but respectful, solemn, and kind. None of those traits were usually found in a villain. So why would he help Hawkmoth? Why betray Ladybug’s trust and choose to fight for the wrong side?

“Oh, there you are, Tikki! Where did you go?” Marinette asked when she flew back to the room.

“Just checking something.” Tikki answered, going back to her plate of cookies. She didn’t want to tell Marinette about Duusu yet, not until she spoke to the Master. He would know what to do about all of this.

“Oh.. okay.” Her chosen shrugged. “Well, did you see Felix? Did you hear us talking?” 

“I did, and I’m excited for you!” Despite her concerns about Le Paon, the boy was promising a future for Marinette’s dream career. That was something she could support for the time being.

Marinette squealed, falling onto her chaise in a puddle of pure bliss. “I’m excited too, Tikki! He was so sweet and- oh, he liked my designs! He said I was brilliant!” 

“That’s because you are brilliant, Marinette.” Tikki remarked, snuggling her holder’s cheek.

The ravenette giggled, returning the hug by cupping her with her palm. “I hope we get to talk again soon.”

Tikki simply smiled. Marinette deserved to be happy. She didn’t want to ruin that until she knew she had to.

-

The silence of the night strengthened Tikki’s resolve to stay as quiet as possible. Marinette mustn't find out about her sneaking out. The Master was adamant that he be kept a secret until they were told otherwise.

So, as her chosen cuddled under the covers and muttered about hamsters and paintings, Tikki flew through the trap door above and headed for Master Fu’s. 

To say she was surprised when she found him already talking to Plagg was an understatement.

“Hello, Tikki. You’re just in time.” Master Fu greeted, gesturing for her to take a seat on the table.

“Hey, Sugar cube. What brings you here so late?” Plagg asked with a grin, causing Tikki to roll her eyes.

“Don’t call me that, and I’m here about Duusu.” 

“Oh, so you figured out Chuckles was Le Paon, too?” He guessed, before putting a whole slice of cheese in his mouth.

Tikki gave him a look. “Who?”

Plagg took a minute to chew, before answering.

“He’s-” Bubbles forced themselves out of Plagg’s mouth before he could finish. 

“He’s my kid’s brother.” He rephrased.

“How did you find out about it, Tikki?” Master Fu interrupted, focusing on the task at hand.

“Felix came to-” Bubbles came of Tikki’s mouth as well.

“Felix came to our house today,” She continued, “And I heard him talking to Duusu on the way out.” 

Master Fu nodded, stroking his chin with a thoughtful expression. “Plagg hasn’t been able to get information about Hawkmoth from Duusu. Have you heard her say anything?”

Tikki shook her head. “I only heard her talking to Felix about the truffles.”

“Should I tell the kid? We’re supposed to be stopping them as soon as possible, right?” Plagg asked.

“True. Neutralizing an enemy would be helpful.” Master Fu began slowly. “However, we still don’t know who Hawkmoth is. If we take Felix’s miraculous, Hawkmoth will know we’re onto him. We need to be careful.”

“So.. what do we do about our chosens?” Tikki dared to ask.

“Keep them in the dark for now. Once we find out Hawkmoth’s identity, they will be able to know everything. Until then, I don’t want things getting out of hand.”

Tikki and Plagg nodded. 

“Now go back to your holders before they get worried.” He instructed, shooing them off.

The kwamis did as they were told, each flying off in different directions, both hoping everything would turn out better than the situation deemed it so.

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @frostymoon11 @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @weird-homosapien @celestethegoddess @imnostrangertodisasters

[bluerosesonata]

The Legacy of Aika Village

[This will be the first of a few mini-articles I plan to post here, just about different things I’m passionate about. Please indulge me.]

This article originally was written back in early April- since then, Nintendo announced that the “Dream Suites” would be coming to the latest update of ACNH, as “Dream Islands.” As such, I thought it would be timely to finally post this.

Update: On July 2nd, the original creator of Aika Village made a tweet announcing their plans to remake Aika for Dream Islands in New Horizons! The legend lives on!

Image Credit: thumbnail from chuggaconroy’s playthrough of Aika Village on Youtube.

Animal Crossing And Horror: The Legacy of Aika Village

With a lot of the world in lockdown, Animal Crossing New Horizons has become a creative and social outlet for many, leading to a lot of people who never played Animal Crossing to engage with it for the first time. I’m sure most of you have encountered the various types of people present in the Animal Crossing community by now, but there’s a type of Animal Crossing players that a lot of people didn’t realize exist, and have existed, for a while now: The Horror Town Creators.

These players were the subject of a brief write up on Polygon by Patricia Hernandez [Hernandez, Patricia. “Animal Crossing: New Horizons is now a horror game, thanks to fans.” Polygon, 24 Mar. 2020. https://www.polygon.com/2020/3/24/21190826/animal-crossing-new-horizons-horror-game-decorations-scary-nintendo-switch-blood-spatter-pattern.], who posted an article featuring quotes and pictures of people creating horror themed towns and rooms in New Horizons, but only made a brief mention of the legacy of horror that many of these players are striving to recreate: The Nightmare Suites of Animal Crossing: New Leaf.

(These next few paragraphs are a bit of a self-indulgent aside, so feel feel to skip ahead.)

Horror gets a bad rap. Horror artists get comments like “lmao what SCP is this,”  “that’s fucked up,” or get flippant remarks about it all “looking the same.” Horror writers get made fun of for only writing “three types of stories.” Even the term “creepypasta,” which has evolved into shorthand for “horror stories independently published online,” still carries the stink of derision from the typo-filled, often poorly-written shock stories the term originated from. Despite this derision, horror, as a genre, is MASSIVELY popular (and profitable as well!). There’s an undeniable appeal to it.

More importantly, horror always finds a way to adapt itself to different mediums. As one can easily see by the success of horror podcasts like the NoSleep Podcast and The Magnus Archives, it isn’t even limited to a visual format! Like fear and dread itself, the horror genre crawls on, inexhaustible, undying, and ever-present, always returning to us in ways both novel and familiar.

Horror lovers are a tight knit, but welcoming, community, and that’s one of its biggest strengths and weaknesses.The biggest drawback is that a lot of really cool stuff produced will never be experienced, let alone documented, by people outside the community. And that’s what prompted this post. I was trying to explain the Dream Suite horror movement to my cousin, and despite my best efforts, didn’t find a lot of coverage about them, beyond the fact they existed. Worse, most of those were articles written five years ago. Even so, I’ll link to a few of them at the end of this post, as they’re definitely worth reading.

For me, I wanted to share my experience of the horror town phenomena with people outside the community. The Nightmare Suites movement was really something magical, and I know that I, personally, am still trying to recreate that magic in New Horizons. And hey, maybe once you’re finished reading this, you will too.

The Dream Suite

Before we can talk about Aika Village, we need to explain the feature that made this whole movement possible. In the 2012/2013 3DS game, Animal Crossing: New Leaf, there were two areas in every town: The village, and Main Street, which laid beyond the train tracks that ran across to the north of every town. Main Street was home several important structures, including the town shop, the Happy Home Academy, and the Post Office. Later on, more structures could be unlocked and built as public works projects, one of which was the Dream Suite.[“Dream Suite.” Nookipedia, 25 Apr. 2013, nookipedia.com/wiki/Dream_Suite.] 

As for how it worked, Nookipedia explains it best:

To begin a dream, the player must lie down on the bed and pay Luna 500 Bells. They may then choose to visit a random town, input the Dream Address of a specific town to visit, or search for a town. They may then choose to visit a previously visited town or a random town, or to input the dream address of a new town to visit. While dreaming, the player may walk around the town and perform actions just as they would in the real world, but their actions will have no effect on the town.

While dreaming, the bed will be on the dream town's plaza. Luna and Lloid stand near it until the player decides to wake up. Players can borrow tools like a shovel and axe from Lloid to use within the dream. If the player lies on the bed a second time, they will leave the dream and anything they have in their pockets will be lost.

The player cannot go to Main Street or enter any buildings with doors besides homes. Additionally, messages left on the bulletin board cannot be read; instead, the board displays the town's name and Dream Address…custom designs on display in the town, such as on the ground and in houses, will be visible. The player who uploaded the town can also be found walking about. When spoken to, they will say their recorded greeting.

In essence, the Dream Suite takes a snapshot of your town at the moment you ask Luna, the NPC running the Dream Suite, to share a dream- this includes your outfit, the way  you decorated your home, the items laying around town, etc.

The most important aspect of this feature, and the one that I feel had the most impact on the Nightmare Suite creation movement, was the method of discovery. If you didn’t know someone’s code, you would be sent to a random dream of a random town, from anywhere in the world- and this is where I feel my personal experience of being in the community departs from the articles that have already been written about the Nightmare Suites.

The Urban Legend of Aika

In the years leading to 2013, I was going through some rough shit. I won’t go into details here, but video games had become my entire life. Coming into the summer of 2013, I didn’t have any friends I kept in touch with, and I was “starting over” in a city where I knew nobody- things were looking up, but outside of tumblr, I didn’t have anything even resembling a social life. Animal Crossing: New Leaf was a stabilizing force of my life during this time, and really helped me. I had the Shampoodle haircut guide saved to the camera roll on my phone, for pete’s sake.

It was in the beginnings of my friendship with a group of girls (whom I sadly no longer even have contact with), where a lot of our initial bonding happened because of anime and RPGmaker horror games. We were sitting together in the campus dining area, me playing on my 3DS, when I first learned about the Nightmare Suites.

“Have you heard about Aika Village?”

I hadn’t.

“It’s this really creepy town in dream suites, I heard about it from a friend online.” Later that day, she linked me to a tumblr post compiling a series of codes leading to different “creepy dream towns,” the first one being simply labeled as “Aika Village.”

That dream village became a phenomenon: people would write up their interpretations and theories about it, and even lead to a few articles and videos on gaming sites like IGN and Killscreen, which is why I’m not gonna even bother going into the content of the village itself.

And So, The Dream Begins…

This, in my opinion, was the draw of the Nightmare Suites. Without a way to directly share codes from your 3DS to your social media, the discovery and sharing of Dream Towns was like that of urban legends- like virtually passing notes in class, or sharing scary stories that “totally happened to a friend of my cousin’s sister” at a campfire. It felt like a cool discovery- something exclusive and scary and weirdly intimate. They had a mystique to them, a mystery of who their creators were and what they “really meant.” But above all that? They were cool as hell.

The Nightmare Suites used the limitations of the game to try and create an unnerving atmosphere in ways that were reminiscent to me of the RPGmaker horror game subgenre, and for me, created a lot of memories of excitedly typing in my once a day dream suite visit late at night in my dorm. I never lacked variety- there were so many people either influenced or inspired by Aika to make a horror town that there are entire lists and tumblrs dedicated to collecting those codes. (I even played around with the idea of making my own horror town, but never found the right inspiration, instead dedicating my time to making themed homes and custom outfits based on different anime characters.)

The sad fact that so many of these towns have been altered or overwritten, if they’re available or accessible at all, is in itself, a part of their urban legend-like appeal. While many of us may never get to experience these towns, the stories about them endure, in lists on long-abandoned blogs and youtube videos from people’s playthroughs.

And that mystique is the real legacy of Aika; While the Nightmare Suites may be gone, the wonder and dreamlike memories many of us hold from our chance encounter with it will never fade. You could even say we’re a bit…haunted by it.

[regolithheart]

Love In The Time of Coronavirus: Chapter Five

Summary: One pandemic, one lake house, and two people who loathe one another. Will they be able to survive the outbreak...and each other?

MASTER LIST

Read on AO3.

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

CHAPTER FIVE:

Cassian shuffled through his dresser to find clothes to change into. It would be so easy to throw on a pair of clean sweats, but he didn’t want to resort to that. It was only day two of their self-isolation and if he wasn’t careful, it would be a slippery slope. Besides, he could just imagine the look of distain on Nesta’s face to see him walking around in pajamas in the middle of the day. 

His phone buzzed on the bed behind him and picking it up, he saw Rhys was on the other line. Cassian grinned as he accepted the FaceTime call.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Good morning!” He heard Mor’s voice calling back although out of view from the camera and distant but cheerful.

Rhys shook his head. “It’s 4:30pm here.”

Leaning back against his headboard, Cassian shrugged. “Sorry, I’m not on Parisian-time. Seeing as I’m in Sonoma right now with a woman who hates my guts. Have I thanked you recently for that?”

Rhys gave him a wry smile. “You can take your grievances up with France and the U.S. government. Do you want Macron’s number?”

Cassian snorted. “Yeah, text it to me.” He wouldn’t have been surprised if Rhys really did have the French President’s personal number.

There was a moment of silence before Cassian raised an eyebrow.

“So….to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” 

The corner of Rhys’ mouth quirked up, but there was no amusement on his face. He opened his mouth, but before he could answer, Cassian held up a hand to stop him.

“No. If you’re going to give me bad news, I want it from one of the girls or Az. At least then I can take comfort from their beautiful faces. “

Rhys rolled his eyes, but again, he was interrupted. 

Cassian watched the phone shuffle between hands and caught a glimpse of the ceiling of Rhys and Feyre’s pied-à-terre and the blue Parisian sky beyond. Soon, he was looking at Feyre.

“Hey.” Her smile was too sweet and she had drawn out her vowels for too long. 

Cassian’s reply was cautious. “Feyre. What’s up?”

Her eyes flickered to someone off screen before smiling even wider at Cassian. “So listen. I just got off the phone with Elain and she and Graysen are actually staying in L.A. for the time being.”

Cassian dragged his free hand down the length of his face, groaning. 

If there had been any saving grace in his current predicament, it was that Elain and her boyfriend were on there way up. At least then Nesta would have been appeased and he’d have more people to talk to. It was hard to strike up a conversation with someone who only answered in single word sentences or told him to eat shit half of the time. 

He had even been prepared to make friends with Graysen—who was maybe the most boring person Cassian had ever met. 

Graysen. Was that his name? Why did he think it was Gregory?

Cassian shook his head. “I gotta tell you, Feyre. You guys are really screwing me over, here.”

“I’m sorry!” Her voice was pleading. “If there was any other way—“ 

“I know, I know. It’s fine.” He knew they weren’t doing it on purpose, but it still didn’t stop the bubble of irritation that was building in the pit of his stomach. “Just tell Rhys that he better be prepared to sell this house at half it’s market value because there’s a good chance your sister is going to murder me in my sleep. I’m leaving all of my records to Az.”

“Hey!” He heard Mor object in the background. 

“You can also tell your fiancé that he has surrendered his entire booze collection and I remember seeing a bottle of McCallan 1926 the last time I checked.” Cassian was starting to feel better just thinking about the prospect.

Rhys shoved his face into view. “Cassian, don’t you dare.”

“What? I can’t hear you over my emotional distress. Gotta go drown my sorrows in a fancy bottle of whiskey.”

“Cassian,” Rhys threatened again. 

But Feyre had elbowed him out of the frame and looked at Cassian one more time. “There’s one more thing.”

Cassian raised his eyebrow.

“Elain is giving Nesta the news any minute now and you might want to avoid her for a little while.”

“This is why I’m not going to feel bad for drinking the McCallan.” 

“I’m sorry, Cass.” Feyre’s smile was weak.

“Yeah. I gotta go find a hiding spot now. If I don’t make it out alive, it was nice knowing ya.”

He saw various arms waving at him and a received a chorus of goodbyes before he hung up. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

Abandoning the idea of a shower, Cassian tip-toed out of his room and threw a glance down the hallway. Nesta’s bedroom door was closed and he didn’t hear her angry voice coming from the other side. Quickly, he snuck downstairs and headed towards the gym. 

He figured he’d be safe in there.

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

After ninety minutes in the gym and sauna, Cassian decided it was safe to come out. He had heard Nesta’s angry footfalls on the stairs fifteen minutes earlier, but it had been quiet after that.

As he passed the door to the office, he heard the scrape of a chair against the wooden floors, a thud, and Nesta cursing.

“Damnit!”

Cassian was all too happy to ignore the commotion, but before he got to the stairs, he heard the sound of something falling to the ground with a thud and Nesta’s long, defeated sigh. 

Running a hand through his hair, he sent a silent apology to his future self and turned around to knock on the office door.

“What?” Nesta’s answer was curt. 

He opened the door slowly, allowing himself a peak into the room in case Nesta felt like throwing something at him. He still remembered the day Pictionary was banned. 

“Do you need some help?”

Nesta was on her knees. Her work bag was laying on its side, it’s contents scattered across the floor.

Cassian picked up a highlighter that had rolled to his feet. He began picking up random pens and markers on his way closer to her. She took them silently from him and stuffed them into her work bag, not sparing a glance his way. 

“I can’t find the wifi password.”

He was amused for a moment until he realized he didn’t know what the password was either. They had set up the lake house’s internet years ago and everyone had saved it on their devices and promptly forgot it. Come to think of it, he really should update the password and run a security check on the house’s connections. He made a mental note to himself.

“Did you check the back of the router?” He had warned Rhys not to leave the password taped there, but wouldn’t have been surprised if his friend ignored his advice.

“Of course I did.”

“And?”

“And I wouldn’t be talking to you if it had worked, would I?” Nesta crossed her arms over her chest.

Cassian ignored her scowl and marched over to the desk to take a look himself. Sure enough, there was a sticker with the default password stuck behind the router. They couldn’t have been that lazy, could they?

“May I?” Cassian asked, gesturing to Nesta’s laptop opened on the desk.

“Sure. Go ahead and waste my time.”

Cassian ignored that too and punched in the password. A error ping sounded followed closely by a snort from Nesta behind him.

Drumming his fingers against the wooden desk, he searched his memory, trying to recall if they had ever written the password down. He began pulling out the desk drawers and shuffling through its contents. Not that there was much to look through. He would have been surprised if Rhys did any actual work in that room. 

In the drawers Cassian found a stack of business cards, a letter opener, an empty leather bound notebook with gold gilded pages, a cigar trimmer and two cigars still in their plastic sleeves, but no sign of a wifi password. 

He could image Nesta rolling her eyes at him, but when he looked up, he found that she wasn’t paying him any attention at all. Instead, she was on the other side of the room, looking at the framed pictures on the bookshelves and running a delicate finger across one of the photos, lost in her thoughts. 

And that’s when Cassian finally remembered. 

He reached over to the black and white photo of a woman and teenage girl, both with thick dark hair and  matching brilliant smiles. The silver frame was heavy and well-polished. Turning it over, Cassian unlatched the back and revealed a yellow sticky note with Rhys’ tiny, yet neat handwriting. 

“All set,” Cassian said, setting the photo back in it’s place on the desk.

“Who’s that?” Nesta asked as she watched him. 

He hesitated. “Rhys’ mother and sister.”

Nesta was silent. Feyre must have told her what happened six years ago and he was glad he didn’t have to. It still made his heart ache just thinking about it.

Cassian cleared his throat and stood up to leave. Before closing the door behind him, he heard Nesta say, “Thank you.”

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

Nesta splashed water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked pale and the smudges under her eyes showed just how tired she really was. Sighing, she redid her braid and pinned it back in its usual crown, smoothing the flyaways down with her damp fingertips. 

There. It wasn’t much, but it was an improvement. 

She had escaped to her room for a moment after getting off a two-and-a-half hour conference call where the majority of it was taken up by Devlon and their client’s anecdotes about their second day of self-isolation and lamenting the fact that they were going to be missing a lot of golf. She had gritted her teeth through the whole thing, but remained silent. 

Her only saving grace was the little satisfaction of knowing she was billing the client for this meeting and the more he droned on about the eighth hole at Pebble Beach, the more he was being charged. 

She took a deep breath and began making her way back downstairs, to the long list of unread emails she had ignored all day. 

Cassian’s bedroom door was ajar again.

God, did he ever close it?

Slowing down, she chanced a peak inside. His laptop sat open on the otherwise orderly bed, but he was nowhere to be seen. 

When Nesta got back to the office, she crossed her arms and looked suspiciously around the room. 

Next to her laptop, sitting on a coaster was a gin and tonic. 

She glanced down at her watch. It was 5 o’lock on the dot and she wondered if Cassian had been waiting to hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. She didn’t see him in the living room or hear him in the kitchen and that annoyed her. 

Pushing the drink away, she was even more annoyed when she saw that it was exactly how she liked—with a twist of lemon and an extra slice for good measure. She didn’t want to think about what it meant that Cassian knew her favorite drink, or how he knew it. 

Instead, she focused on her mountain of emails. Half of them were office-wide emails, reminding everyone to be safe and to reach out to their clients to let them of their new Work From Home procedures and all of the additional spreadsheets and reports that they needed to keep up to date now that people were no longer in the office. It was exhausting to shift through. But then an email from Devlon made her pound her fist on the desk.

The ice from the gin and tonic tinkled.

She dialed Devlon’s number, nostrils flaring at every ring. He picked up on the fourth one.

“Are you kidding me?!”

Devlon’s voice was even-toned. “I had no choice.”

“But, Eris? I said anyone but him!”

“You do remember that I’m your boss, right?”

Nesta didn’t reply, just seethed. 

“Listen, I know it’s not ideal. I wouldn’t have put him on the Carver project at all but…” he sighed. 

“Tamlin put a hold on Rose Hall and I’m in a staffing bind.”

“Can’t you shift some other people around?”

Devlon was not amused. “I need to find projects for eight people.”

“I’ll take Amren.”

“Good. Then you have to take Eris, too. He’s the only one on the viz team that’s available and can do the work.”

Nesta huffed. “Fine. But he needs to be reminded that I’m the Project Architect and he answers to me.”

“Don’t we all?”

Nesta hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, still annoyed. She was glad Amren was now on her team, but she wasn’t looking forward to babysitting Eris. 

Looking up, she saw the photo of Rhys’ mother and sister smiling at her. She averted her eyes. 

She hated that room.

For an office, it was surprisingly lacking. She had only been able to find one single pen in the whole entire room and it was a Mont Blanc fountain pen. Judging by the weight, no doubt it was made of platinum.

The rest of the room was more of a treasure chest of knick-knacks, travel paraphernalia, and photos. So many framed photos. 

She had perused them earlier that day when Cassian was looking for the wi-fi password and her eyes had snagged on a photo sitting in a simple wood frame. It was all of them: Rhys, Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Feyre. 

Nesta had not been able to tell where the photo had been taken. Judging from what they were wearing, they could have been anywhere at any time. To anyone else it would have just been a typical photo of a group of friends, but it had struck Nesta to see how happy they all were, especially Feyre. Rhys’ arm was around her waist, but Feyre’s head was leaning on Mor’s shoulder. And her sister’s arm was stretched behind the blonde, her hand clasping Cassian’s.

Nesta couldn’t recall if she, Elain, and Feyre had ever a photo similar to that one. Maybe they did before, but certainly not after their mother…

She snapped her laptop shut, revealing the gin and tonic she had nudged aside earlier. The ice had began to melt, but she finished it in three gulps.

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

Nesta found Cassian in the kitchen. Not that she had been looking for him.

She was returning her glass and he just happened to be there, pulling items from the fridge. The sound of ice clinking against the tumbler made him look up. 

He raised his eyebrow, but his smile was soft.

“Looks like you could use another.”

Given the day that Nesta had, she agreed.

Cassian held out his hand and Nesta placed the glass into his awaiting palm. 

She was surprised when he put the dirty glass into the sink and watched as he deftly prepared her a new drink in a clean one. She was even impressed when he managed to carve the perfect sliver of lemon peel with the large chef’s knife in his hand and gave it a delicate twist before nestling it into the ice and handing her the drink. 

Nesta took a sip. It was perfect.

“Thank you.”

Cassian made a noise in the back of his throat. “So are you going to be eating dinner tonight?” His tone was casual and he didn’t look up at her as he organized the food on the counter.

She hesitated, but he was being nice so she could at least try to be civil. “What are you making?”

He finally looked up at her, his grin wide, canines gleaming as he held up a parcel wrapped in butcher’s paper. “Steaks!”

“Isn’t that a little extravagant?” 

“You’ve never heard of steak night Wednesday?” He grinned at his own joke. “We’re celebrating.”

“What are we celebrating?”

There was that grin again and Nesta blamed the heat rising in her chest on the two gin and tonics she’d had. 

“We’re celebrating the fact that I just broke into Rhys’ prized whiskey collection.” He nodded to a bottle that other than the color of the liquid—a deep, dark caramel—and the label that said Years 60 Old, didn’t look like anything special to Nesta. 

Cassian could tell she was unimpressed. “That is a $75,000 bottle of Scotch.”

Nesta laughed. “You’re shitting me!”

“I would never joke about McCallan.”

Nesta picked up the bottle to examine it further. It was heavier than she had expected it to be. The label was thick and had a beautiful texture that was imprinted with a gold border, but she still couldn’t believe that she was holding a bottle of alcohol that was worth a year’s salary.

“So what do you say, Nesta Archeron? Have dinner with me tonight.”

She looked at him. At the checkered button down with the sleeves rolled up, and his hair which was half pulled back in a knot. His smile was easy and the light from the setting sun streaming into the kitchen made his eyes glow amber.

He cleaned up nice. It wasn’t the first time Nesta had noticed, but it always took her by surprise. 

“Okay,” she said and took a sip of her drink—an excuse to avert her eyes. 

“Great! You can start on the potatoes.”

Her head snapped up. “What?”

“The potatoes.” Cassian repeated, pointing to a bag of small yellow potatoes. 

Nesta started backing away from the island. “No. No one said I had to cook.”

“Boiling potatoes isn’t exactly rocket science.” Cassian looked amused. “Just grab those potatoes, wash them, fill that pot with water, and wait.” 

Nesta eyed the potatoes. “How many?” 

Cassian shrugged. “Ten? Eleven?”

Nesta grabbed the bag and pulled out twelve golf-sized potatoes. 

Eleven. What kind of maniac was he?

When the pot was on the stove, Cassian tossed in two healthy pinches of salt into the water. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“That’s it? How long until they’re done?”

Cassian looked at her incredulous. “Have you really never boiled potatoes before?”

Nesta didn’t answer. It wasn’t as though she had never boiled potatoes before, but the few times she deigned to cook, she always followed a step-by-step recipe to the tee. 

“When the water starts boiling, poke them with a fork. If they’re soft, they’re done and if not give them a couple more minutes.”

She nodded.

“In the meantime, turn the oven on to 400 and relax.”

Nesta let her shoulders drop. She hadn’t realized how tense she was. 

When the potatoes were done, Cassian strained them and dumped them all onto a sheet tray. 

“Now here’s the fun part,” he said, grabbing a wooden spoon. “Take this spoon and press it into the potatoes like this. Really smash it.”

He demonstrated and Nesta watched as the potato flattened under the pressure of the spoon, it’s edges splitting into craggy fissures. 

“Your turn.”

Nesta took the wooden spoon from Cassian and tried to mimic his technique. 

“Come on, Archeron. You can do better than that. Really smash it. Pretend it’s my face you’re crushing.”

Nesta hid her smirk, and pressed hard. It was oddly satisfying.

When she was done, Cassian tossed in some herbs, a couple of crushed garlic cloves, a few glugs of olive oil and told Nesta to mix it up with her hands. She did as she was instructed, but cringed the whole entire time. As soon as the contents of the tray were mixed, she rushed to the sink to wash her hands. 

That was one of the reasons why she didn’t cook. But aside from getting gross oil fingers, thirty minutes later they were sitting at the dining table with the most amazing smelling dinner in front of them, and Nesta decided it hadn’t been too bad. 

 Cassian held up the bottle of McCallen 1926. “Can I tempt you?”

She wasn’t a whiskey drinker in the least, but she was curious to see. When she nodded, he poured her two fingers’ worth.

Nesta twirled the liquid in her glass, trying to determine if she could spot how special it was just by looking at it. It looked pretty ordinary to her. She glanced at Cassian before taking a sip. 

It was much more sweet than she had expected it to be. There were hints of dried fruit—figs, maybe. And as the liquid rolled over her tongue she picked up a bit of vanilla and something warm and nutty. Cinnamon? It was definitely familiar. When she finally swallowed, the aroma hit her. Christmas. This tasted like Christmas. Warm and comforting and…special.

She cleared her throat. “It’s okay.”

Cassian simply shook his head, torn between amusement and disbelief. He took his own sip and Nesta watched his face closely. It was subtle—almost imperceivable—but she saw his discovery mirror her own. 

When he opened his eyes, his voice was awed. “It’s incredible.” He grinned. “I am never drinking anything else, ever again.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes and he winked.

“Well, lets eat!”

Everything tasted as amazing as it looked and Nesta felt a flash of pride at how wonderful the potatoes were. They had baked them in the oven and the edges were crispy and fragrant. If that was all Nesta was allowed to eat for the rest of her life, she’d be happy. 

“These potatoes are incredible.” 

Cassian grinned. “They’re the easiest thing.” 

“I never learned how to cook.” The words slipped out of Nesta’s mouth before she could stop them. 

Cassian looked up, surprised. “Really? Then who taught Feyre? I thought…” He stopped himself from finishing that sentence. 

Nesta looked away. She hated how he became quiet. Probably because he knew the truth about what happened all those years ago. Sometimes it felt like a lifetime ago. Sometimes, like at that very moment, it felt all too fresh.

She cleared her throat and straightened. When she turned back to him, her face was neutral, calm. 

“How did you learn to cook?”

Taking her cue, Cassian’s smile came easily. “I used to be a line cook,” he answered, popping a piece of steak into his mouth.

For the rest of the dinner, Cassian told Nesta of all the jobs he had had growing up. First as a dishwasher, then a line cook. There was the summer in high school when he was a life guard at the public pool but had to quit because all the moms were hitting on him. 

Nesta rolled her eyes at that story, but then laughed when he told her about his stint as a dog walker. She almost choked when he told her about the time he baby-sat a nine-year-old. 

“You were a manny?!” 

“Yeah.” His grin turned into a scowl. “But then I was fired because the kid was failing math! I was only supposed to pick him up from school and made sure he didn’t break his neck until his parents got home. I didn’t sign up to teach long division.”

Nesta had to brush a tear of laughter from her eyes as Cassian cleared away the dirty dishes. 

She smoothed her hair back and saw Cassian leaning against the kitchen counter, watching her. 

“Wanna watch a movie?”

She sobered quickly. “I…um…no. I have to get back to work.”

He raised his eyebrow. “It’s 8pm.”

She stood up. “I have a lot of emails to get to.”

They held each other’s stare long enough for Nesta to feel uncomfortable, but then Cassian shrugged his shoulder and moved towards the sink.

“Another time then.”

Nesta watched him for three more seconds, then turned and left. 

[sawyer-saucee]

If You Had The Chance To Change Your Fate...

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Words: 3,992

Genre: Hurt/comfort

Pairings: Rociet, fatherly logince, fatherly lociet, platonic anxciet, brief brotherly mociet (blink and you miss it)

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, panic (but no panic attacks), mentions of breakups/divorce, a good hearty dose of Deceit’s potty mouth (swearing), arguing, mentions of Nazis (as in, our boys hate them)

Summary: Devon Lee, a hopeless romantic who would never admit to it, and Roman Adelio, a man who’s long since given up on love, are destined to be together. Will fate do its job correctly, or will the pair defy the ides of fortune?

A/N: This is a story I wrote for @quoth-the-sparrow​!!!! It took longer than I intended because it ended up being a monster of a story (originally it was only going to be around 1,000 words of pure fluff, but we can all see how that turned out), so dad, I hope you like it! (And I hope everyone else likes it too!) <3

10 years, 4 months, 13 days, 11 hours, and 58 minutes. That was how long Devon Lee had been waiting for his soulmate. As a child, he’d always assumed the world was colorless, and that everyone saw it the way that he did. But, as it had been explained to him by his older brother Patton when he was nine years old, eventually, when you found that one person who was destined to be your perfect match, your world would change. It was hard to explain how when Dee couldn’t even begin to visualize what this “color” Patton spoke of looked like, but his brother made it sound so appealing. “Dee,” He’d said, “You know that feeling you feel when your favorite TV show comes on at just the right time? Or… oh! Or that feeling when someone gets you the perfect gift?” And Dee had nodded as Patton grinned and said, “That’s what the world looks like when you find your soulmate.”

So, ever since that moment 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes ago now, Devon had been waiting. And waiting. And waiting. At a certain point he quite honestly had become sick of waiting and had renounced the prospect of soulmates as a whole, but deep inside his chest there had always been a longing that he would never admit to - a secret timer keeping track of the 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 2 minutes that he’d been waiting. Not that he was counting or anything.

Roman Adelio, on the other hand, didn’t believe in soulmates, not one bit. He hadn’t since the moment his mother had walked out the scuffed front door of the house he’d grown up in, leaving him behind with only a father with the words, “Have you seen a pair of blue ballet slippers anywhere?” tattooed on his chest and the knowledge that even though the first words of his mother were permanently etched onto his father’s skin, that hadn’t stopped them from falling apart. He never wanted to be like them. So, he took the whole theory if Occam’s razor to heart and decided that the simplest explanation was that love was simply a fraud that he would never participate in.

…12 years, 6 months, 24 days 12 hours, and 9 minutes.

That was how long it had been since Roman had given up on love.

His skin was devoid of cheesy first word tattoos, and he was determined to keep it that way.

— — — — —

“Dee, come on, you’re 5 minutes late for your meet-and-greet already!” Virgil, Dee’s ever-so-irritable manager called from ten feet in front of the tardy YouTuber. Devon sighed and propelled himself forward with slightly more urgency, the tires of his wheelchair squeaking over the tiled floor.

“We’re not late, we’re simply rebelling against the society-imposed definition of punctuality,” he deadpanned, rolling past Virgil through to the outside of the building. “I, for one, think it’s an inspiring display of anarchy.”

“You know, it’s real funny to see you playing hard to get when you’re already hard enough to like.” Virgil huffed in response, giving the back of Dee’s chair a playful shove to get him going faster. The man laughed and deliberately slowed down, thereby causing Virgil to let out a sort of half distressed croak/half irritated groan. It was terribly amusing, to say the least. After a moment of tense silence broken only by Virgil’s incessant nerve-amplified echolalia, (“An- anarch- anarchy- anarchy- fuck…”), the manager finally snapped.

“That’s it, I’m going ahead. I’ll let the fans know you’re gonna be late, but you’d better hurry your ass up and get over there, okay? You have five minutes before I flip my fucking lid, Dee.”

“That sounds entertaining, maybe I’ll take my time just for that!”

“You have a goddamn death wish, I swear to god!” Virgil yelled as he took off sprinting towards the building they were overdue at. Dee chuckled and kept rolling along, enjoying how warm the sun was that day. His friends often joked that he was cold-blooded for how intolerant he was to the cold and… in truth, he wouldn’t deny it. It fit his aesthetic.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream…” As the wind picked up, Dee noticed the voice that it was carrying with it. He didn’t believe in magical creatures like sirens, and yet his first thought upon hearing that voice was that no human could possibly sing so beautifully. The song was meant for a high voice, like the princess in the movie, but somehow the rich bass tones of the voice he was hearing brought the melody new life. In other words, he would allow this man to step on him, no questions asked. Dee’s vivid gray eyes - well, he had no idea if they were actually gray, because everything else was, too, but regardless - scanned the grassy courtyard he was going past and eventually landed on the shape of a man twirling around in the center of the yard. He was just as attractive as his voice was, further solidifying Devon’s resolve to allow this man to step on him. The wheels on his chair protested as he rolled into the grass, but Dee was so mesmerized by the image of this tall, lanky - was that a dress he was wearing? - unabashedly effeminate man that he hardly noticed the barrage of bumps.

Dee blinked, finding his vision going a bit blurry all of a sudden. Dots began flashing in front of his vision as he drew closer to the man, and he shook his head, absently dismissing it as an effect of jet lag. As he neared the man, getting close enough to make out details like the spattering of freckles all over his body, the light streak in his otherwise dark hair, even the collection of bandaids scattered all over his body, a sure indicator that he was either clumsy (he had so much limb for just one man, after all) or just plain reckless, Dee noticed something that he wasn’t sure how to explain. A change in the man’s face. The grays he’d spent his whole life staring at were morphing into something unrecognizable, and-

“Holy goddamn motherfucking shit…”

— — — — —

Roman clamped his mouth shut and turned to face whoever had just ever-so-rudely thrown off his groove. The courtyard had been blissfully empty for the first time that day and though he loved his fans as much as they loved him, a moment alone to sing had been a welcome intermission. Especially since he’d been around so many people bragging about their soulmates all day.

It was to be expected, of course, since Roman’s YouTube channel was dedicated to music and he sang love songs almost exclusively, but people introducing their soulmates to him still made him uneasy. All of the “We met because we were both fans of you!” And “Our first words were lyrics from your song, look!” Were sweet, of course, but still…unnerving. Every time he saw those tattoos he was that eight-year-old kid again, watching everything he loved slip away.

And now that his moment of solitude had been interrupted, he wasn’t gonna lie - he was more than a little irritated

“Excuse me, I was singing here!” He protested, placing his hands on his hips and sticking out his bottom lip in an indignant pout. Foot tapping fervently on the grass, he waited for the man’s response - a man who, Roman noted, was far more attractive than he had any right to be. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green, though one had flecks of gold ringing the pupil. Roman hadn’t even known that was possible, he’d only ever seen characters in his favorite books described that way. Aside from that, his hair was an array of sloppily dyed and removed colors, with gray fading into yellow and then into purple and pink and blue and bleached-out blonde… it was like the guy had just grabbed whatever random boxes of dye he could reach and went nuts. It was cute, though. A large wine-stain birthmark made his fairytale-esque golden eye stand out even more and wow was Roman gay. That didn’t change the fact that he was tempted to go full Kuzco on this guy. He felt a pinch on his neck and winced, bringing his hand up to rub at it while he continued, “It’s not very polite to interrupt a man in the middle of a serenade!”

The man’s face remained blank and he blinked a few times, his hands tap-tap-tapping on the rubber wheels of his wheelchair.

“…I’m going to be real here, a moment ago I was annoyed but now I’m a little creeped-”

“You’re my soulmate,” The man whispered, so quietly that Roman wasn’t sure he’d heard him right. He hoped he hadn’t heard him right.

“…What? You-”

“You’re my soulmate!” The man shouted, eyes lighting up. “My brother once told me that seeing color was beautiful, but I never quite understood what he meant until now!” A moment of silence passed between them, and just as Roman was about to open his mouth to say that no, there must be a mistake, he didn’t even have a tattoo- “I’d apologize for the tattoo, but I find it rather funny that you have  “holy goddamn motherfucking shit” permanently etched into your skin.”

Roman let out a fearful squeak as he fumbled to pull out his phone and check his face in the camera. His cheeks and forehead were clear, nothing on his arms…he was almost ready to berate the man for lying when he noticed the dark words written in clunky, nearly illegible cursive on his neck. ‘Holy goddamn motherfucking shit.’

“…What?” This made no sense at all. He didn’t even know what to say. This man seemed nice and all, but Roman had promised himself he would never let this happen to him. There must have been some kind of mistake. “I don’t… I don’t have a soulmate!” He blurted stupidly, rubbing at the writing on his neck.

Dee squinted, confused. “…Right, of course you don’t. It isn’t like the first words I said to you just appeared on your neck and I can see color now, something that only happens once you find your soulmate or anything. But you know. Of course I’m not your soulmate.”

“No, I-” Roman stammered, falling back a step. “I-I- I don’t have a soulmate. And even if I do, I don’t want one!”

“Don’t…” Dee blinked, trying to process what this man, his soulmate, had just said to him. After all this time… he’d waited 10 years, 4 months, 13 days 12 hours, and 24 minutes for this? A guy who wanted nothing to do with him? “Are you serious?”

“Yes! Look, you seem nice and all, but I-”

“No no no, I did not wait ten years for this-“

“Oh, so you expected your soulmate to just fall all over you the moment you met him? To sweep you away and live out a happily ever after with you? Is that it? Well, I’m sorry to destroy your fantasy, but I don’t do love, okay?”

A sigh broke past Devon’s lips as he crossed his arms, leaning forward to catch Roman’s eyes. “Geez, who the hell hurt you?” He asked flippantly, somehow missing the way the man’s face paled. “The universe matched us at birth and you’re not even going to speak to me?”

“The universe is bullshit!” Roman yelled, catching Devon off guard. “It’s all a fucked-up system that I don’t want to be a part of! I’m not letting some metaphysical Tinder ruin my life again!”

Among all of that dramatic ranting, one word stood out to Dee. “…Again?”

Roman blinked, mentally running back through everything he’d said. “I…” Dee noticed how hard his voice was shaking. “Just leave me alone. Please.” He whispered desperately, turning on his heel and sprinting away.

Dee watched the man run, the heeled boots he was wearing clacking against the smooth concrete like a heartbeat.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

That man was his soulmate.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

He wanted nothing to do with Dee… and there was a reason why. Something that man hadn’t been able to say. He knew it.

Ba-dum, ba-dum.

But most importantly…

Ba-dum, ba-dum, creaaaak- the door of the nearest building opened and shut, the man’s face appearing once through the glass and then disappearing down a long hallway.

Someone had hurt him, and under no circumstances would Devon stand for that. With new resolve, he started painstakingly wheeling himself across the grass to follow his strange, sad new soulmate.

— — — — —

The moment Roman heard the door he’d run through shut behind him, he pushed into the closest bathroom and collapsed under the sinks. This was not possible by any stretch of the imagination. He’d come here to this goddamn con to have a good time and meet his fans and now he was, about to cry in a bathroom because some excited, well-meaning guy had come up to him and told him something that anyone else would be happy about. He let out a choked sob and covered his eyes, employing his fingers as little dams to keep the waterworks in. Going back out there with swollen eyes and a red nose was not an option.

What were his options, then? Avoid this guy for the rest of his life, not only subjecting himself to the constant fear of running into him again but the guilt of knowing that he’d deprived this guy of his (supposedly) one true partner, or accept it and live in constant fear of it all falling apart? He couldn’t do this right now. Hell, he couldn’t do this ever, what was meant to be the happiest moment of his life was making him feel things he hadn’t felt in years, things he’d never wanted to feel again.

“Anyone in here?” A voice called out, muffled through the flimsy wooden door of the bathroom.

“No!” Roman called back, mentally kicking himself for that stupid move.

“Good to know,” The voice replied, growing clearer as whoever it was pushed the door open. Roman heard the couple grunts and the squeak of rubber on tile, looking up for not even half a second to see his soulmate struggling to get the heavy wooden door open while his wheelchair kept rolling backward from the force of him pushing. “Stupid broken brakes…”

“What are you doing here?” Roman snarled, hastily wiping his eyes and retreating back further into the corner.

His soulmate shrugged as nonchalantly as a person could while fighting with a door, saying, “You seemed upset.”

“Yeah, because of you.” What was this guy’s problem? “I told you to leave me alone!”

“Well, I once told my brother that I wouldn’t come home from school until Aladdin came to pick me up on his magic carpet. We can’t all have what we want- a-ha!” He finally won the battle with the door, letting it shut behind him with a triumphant click! “Now, I believe we skipped some pleasantries. I’m Devon Lee. Or Dee, if you’d prefer. I didn’t catch your name.”

The bathroom went silent save for the shaky breathing of someone trying to stop crying and water echoing through the pipes overhead. Exchanging names would mean this man knew him. This man, with his mismatched eyes and crazy hair and obnoxiously bright yellow-and-green wheelchair (and people thought Roman was extra), would have a name to associate with his face. That would not do.

“I didn’t throw it.”

The excitement that flickered to life in Devon’s eyes was unexpected, and Roman nearly flinched when the man burst out, “Oh my god, that was not a Heathers reference!”

He got that? Most people only understood when he quoted the songs, not the script. “You know Heathers?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s not like I’m a die-hard musical theatre fan or anything.” Dee laughed, a sound that made Roman think of bubbles. “Heathers, Waitress, Hamilton, Rent, Sound of Music, you name it, I know-”

“You like the Sound of Music?” Roman gasped. He pushed himself up off the floor, forgetting for a moment why he was so upset. “Most people I bring it up to tell me it’s a girl’s show.”

Dee grinned. His smile was pearly white, though Roman didn’t miss the shiny gold teeth in place of his incisors. A brilliant smile, shiny gold fangs, a love of musical theatre almost as obsessive as Roman’s… what didn’t this guys have?

“Girl’s show?” He scoffed. “Please, gender is meaningless and Julie Andrews’s voice is a spiritual experience anyone would be blessed to hear.”

“Yes! Finally!” His hands twitched as he resisted the urge to happy-flap them. “I must know, though, who’s your favorite character?”

Dee pursed his lips, tugging thoughtfully at his hair for a moment before answering, “Leisl. I admire her capacity for deception.”

“Oh? You’re a fan of deception?” Roman’s eyebrows rose, and the fear that he’d forgotten about in the wave of that’s-my-hyperfixaiton joy bobbed back up to the surface like a shell being tossed around in the sea. “…why not Rolf, then? He was a classic liar, and a talented one too.”

“Rolf?” Dee folded over cackling, clutching his stomach as he fought to speak through incredulous giggles. “He was a Nazi! Not to mention that he betrayed Leisl, the girl who loved him, by trying to get her family murdered. You must think so little of me to even imagine that I could admire him!”

Though Dee kept laughing, Roman had long since fallen silent. This wasn’t okay. He wasn’t supposed to connect with Devon - or… well, technically he was supposed to, but he didn’t want to, even if the guy liked the Sound of Music and understood his Heather’s reference and had come after him when he was upset, even if Dee was attractive and seemed funny and kind… even if he appeared to be everything Roman had ever wished for, there was too much of a risk. Maybe Devon would expect too much or they’d have a long relationship until one day Roman’s heart was broken.

‘And I call myself brave,’ Roman’s mind scolded him. ‘Roman ‘Never Runs From a Challenge’ Adelio, a coward since the year of his birth, 1999.’

“Look, Devon…” he began. Dee stopped laughing immediately, turning to face Roman with a kind of intensity he’d never seen before. “I… you seem nice, but… I don’t… the rest of my life can’t be dictated by this,” his nails trailed over the tattoo. “I’ve seen the aftermath. It… it’s not good.”

Now, it was Devon’s turn to go quiet. Or it would have been, if he weren’t such a loudmouth. “Alright, I can’t say I don’t understand where you’re coming from,” Carefully, he rolled forward. “And I… while I want a soulmate, it wouldn’t be right for me to force you to have me. All I ask is this.”

Roman cowered at those words. Something bad always came after ‘all I ask.’ What would he want? His number? Sex? Something worse?

“Would you like to go on a date with me sometime?”

“…What?”

Devon smiled, repeating clearly, “Would you like to go on a date sometime?”

“I-” Had Devon not heard anything he’d just said? “I said I don’t… s-soulmates aren’t something I-”

“No, no, no, you misunderstand. Ignore the tattoo, ignore the colors thing, that never happened. I like you, no-name kid. You seem kind and genuine, not to mention that you’re a thespian and seem to be haunted by the ghosts of your past-” Roman laughed despite himself. “-all things I find incredibly attractive. Soulmate or not, I’d like to get to know you better. So, that said,” Devon folded his hands in his lap, sitting back and smiling that million-watt, gold-fanged smile. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

And in that moment, that 15 seconds where he was faced with a choice he’d always dreaded having to make, Roman felt his racing heartbeat begin to slow. The panic-induced adrenaline drained from his system and he let out a heaving sigh. He still had two choices, but those choices had changed now. It was no longer a matter of fate. No longer a choice between being guilty or trapped. It was now option A) Go on a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked, or B) Turn down a date with this cool guy who he kind of liked. Well, Roman may have been a stubborn ass sometimes, but he was also incredibly gay.

“…You know what? Okay. One date.” Roman huffed, bouncing a red converse-clad foot on the tile floor.

“Excellent! I only need one more thing from you.”

“Oh?” Roman smirked, “Well, ask away.”

“Would you mind tossing your name now?”

Roman opened his mouth to acquiesce before promptly snapping it shut with a sly little smile and pulling a paper towel from the dispenser over the sink. “Sure thing.” A moment later, a slightly-crumpled tissue landed on Dee’s lap as Roman walked past. “I’ll see you around, Devon.”

Dee hastily smoothed out the paper, finding two lines of text written in broad, loopy block letters.

Roman Adelio

+1 618-0339-8875

“I can’t wait, Roman.”

— — — — —

“And that, my son, is how I met your father!” Roman finished with a flourish, wrapping his arms around Dee’s neck from his place on his husband’s lap. Logan, the ever-curious 7-year-old that he was, clung to Devon’s leg and asked,

“But why did you accept Pa’s date if you didn’t want a soulmate?”

Roman smiled, pulling his son up onto his and Dee’s lap (and chuckling as Devon shoved the pair of them off). “Well, your father was against nazis, so how could I say no?”

“…Daddy, that can’t be where the bar is.”

“It isn’t!” Devon was quick to cut in, playfully smacking Roman on the arm. “What are you teaching our small, impressionable child, Roman?”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Roman yielded. His teasing expression softening as he gazed at Devon. “In truth, I still think soulmates are complete bullsh-” One glare from Devon washed his mouth out. “-I mean, completely fake. Logan, my little piece of stardust, listen to me.” He gathered the small boy in his arms, feeling his tiny heartbeat against his chest. “It is you and you alone who decides who you’re meant to be with. If that person is your soulmate, then that’s beautiful. If not, it’s just as beautiful to love someone else. Do you understand?”

Logan looked up into his father’s eyes, letting a small smile spread across his face before nodding. “Yeah. I understand.”

“Good,” With a sigh, Roman stood, planting a tender kiss on Devon’s lips as he did so. “You know, my dear,” He whispered, leaning his forehead against Devon’s. “I may not believe in soulmates, but perhaps, to some extent, I believe in fate.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, my darling, that soulmates or not…I know I was meant to be with you.”

“Daddy! Pa! Gross!” Logan whined, wedging himself in between his fathers in a truly archaic act of rebellion.

Devon laughed, pushing himself off of his chair to make a wiggly little cuddle pile on the floor. The three of them fit together like long-lost puzzle pieces, each from different puzzles but all cut from the same mold. They may not have been what they were “supposed” to be, but they were still able to make something truly beautiful.

And that was enough.

[angelbabylu]

1,000 Photos // CH

pairing: reader x calum

summary: you and cal are both digital media majors at a university in LA, and for your first assignment after the summer break, a professor tasks you with taking 1,000 photos. naturally, you and calum make a day out of it 

notes:  for jasmine ( @calumsssparkle​ ) my baby, my child, my twin. I’m so sorry it took me so long to get this to you. I hope you like it ❤️❤️

warnings: just pure fluff, angst if you squint 

word count: 3.8k 

--

(prelude)

Hey I’ll be waiting for you in the parking lot just come find me when you get here

Calum’s thumb hovered over the letters on his screen as he considered responding to your message. The parking lot was packed full of beachgoers trying to squeeze in some sun before summer gave way to overcast skies; so, he had a hard time moving, much less finding anybody. He ducked by large groups of people, trying to avoid getting hit by errant surfboards or coolers and tapped away at his phone screen.

Maybe just share your location with me? it’ll be impossible finding you in this crowd

As soon as he hits send on the message a small ding! draws his attention up from the phone straight to where you stood leaning against the trunk of your car. As always, when Calum caught sight of you, he smiled. It was a soft smile that caused his cheeks to rise and his eyes to crinkle at the corners. Anyone who knew Calum and you knew this smile. It was often the subject of the teasing Calum got from his friends.

You tapped away at your phone, no doubt trying to share your location or perhaps responding to him with more detailed notes on how to get to you. Instead of getting your attention and letting you know that a response was not necessary, Calum reached for his camera.

You and Cal were both studying digital media at a university in Los Angeles. For the weekend, a professor had tasked your class with going out and taking 1,000 photos of anything, paying special attention to subjects and lighting, as a way to spend some time getting reacquainted with your cameras after the summer break.

When you accepted Calum’s invitations to spend the day at the beach collecting the 1,000 pictures, he knew that the subject of all his photographs would be you.

He snapped a couple more pictures of you leaning there as he walked closer. Eventually, the sound of the camera clicks got close enough to you that you were glancing up from your phone, eyes catching sight of the camera lens. Calum was mostly taking images in jest now, to get your attention, but when you tilted your head towards the lens and gave him the widest smile you could muster, he had to snap one more for his collection.

(photos taken: 7)

He was lining up a shot of two seagulls as they danced together over the water. With the sky so clear and the water so blue, their white created a perfect contrast to everything else around them. Just as he was about to snap the picture, you jumped up and slipped your hand in front of the lens. He moved the camera from in front of his face so you could see his look of mock annoyance, but with you smiling up at him it was only seconds before he was smiling back as well.

“Let’s go shoot on the pier,” you suggested, cheerily. “There’s so much up there. And we can do portraits of people!”

At the mention of portraits, he scrunched his nose in disgust. “Portraits?”

Last year, in one of your courses, there was a section that focused specifically on portrait photography. Calum had hated it. Most of the assignments involved going up to random people in and around campus and asking if they would mind having their picture taken. While Calum disliked those conversations, you loved it. You had always enjoyed meeting and talking to new people.

Remembering how he had complained about that section of the course throughout the entirety of it, you rolled your eyes. Grabbing one of his wrists, you turn and drag him towards the pier. “Come on!” you insisted. “You can’t just take pictures of me the entire day.”  

Instead of a response, you heard the camera click, as he snapped a picture of you from behind. “But I like taking pictures of you.”

You could hear the pout in his voice, but you elected to ignore it, rolling your eyes again and pulling harder. Instead of resisting, he slipped his wrist out of yours and moved his hand down to entwine your fingers. You bit your lip to control the smile on your face, but it did nothing to stop the warmth spreading in your chest.

Looking back, you saw him trying to control a smile as well. “What?” he teased playfully. “This is infinitely more comfortable.”

There was no arguing with that; so instead of responding, you relaxed your pull and allowed him to fall in step next to you.

(photos taken: 141)

You were on the pier for half an hour before ever snapping a photo. Calum had distracted you both by pointing out a small ice cream stand just as you were entering.

“Ice Cream?” he suggested, and that was a question you rarely, if ever, said no to.

When you nodded your head in agreement, he tugged where your fingers were still loosely joined, directing you to the ice cream stand.

“Pistachio right?”

Your brows furrowed and your eyes snapped up to meet his. You tried to rack your brain for a moment when you would have told him your favorite flavor of ice cream but found none.

“How do you know what my favorite flavor of ice cream is?”  

For a moment, when his eyes met yours, your heart stopped. He was looking at you so earnestly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and saying, “I know a lot of things about you. I remember everything that you tell me.”

Your brows furrowed even more as you subconsciously took a half step closer, chasing the hand that was just in your hair. “But I don’t even remember telling you that.”

He chucked a bit. “Well, technically you didn’t tell me so much as announce it to the group our Freshman year when the art department went to LACMA.”

You knew the shock from that statement must be present on your face because he grimaced and tried to pull away from you. “Sorry if that’s -”

But before he can even finish, your shaking your head and pulling him back to you. “No, don’t apologize. I’m just not used to people paying attention to me like that.”

“Are you kidding? I’m always paying attention to you. It doesn’t matter where I am if you’re close by I-” He paused and took a moment to collect his thoughts, end his rambling. “It’s distracting.”

You were about to respond, about to tell him how he distracts you too, when the ice cream vendor cleared his throat causing you both to spring apart from one another. The look of embarrassment on Calum’s face told you that you were not the only one who forgot where you were.

“You guys are cute,” He remarked, but there was a distinct lack of emotion in his voice that clued you to the fact that it was sarcasm. “But are you guys going to buy ice cream or. . .”

“Oh, my bad!” Cal exclaimed apologetically, patting his pockets in search of his wallet. “One pistachio and uh -”

He trailed off, looking up at the menu. He hadn’t given any thought to what ice cream he had wanted - you felt a little bad for distracting him from that.

“The mint chocolate chip looks good,” you suggested, and he looked at you with grateful eyes before turning and ordering one mint chip for himself and one pistachio for you.

As soon as you both received your cups of ice cream, he entwined his fingers with yours once more and drew you towards an empty bench on the pier.

“Want a taste?” You asked, offering him your first spoonful. He leaned forward at the same time you moved the spoons to his lips, both of you misjudging the distance. He ended up with a bit of ice cream smeared on his cheeks before the spoon made it between his lips.

“Oh!” you gasped as you pulled the spoon from his face. “Sorry! I’m so clumsy.” And without thinking, you reached your thumb up, wiped the ice cream off his face, then stuck it in your mouth. It was not until you were licking the ice cream off your thumb that you realized what you had done, glancing up at him with wide eyes.

He was not looking at your eyes. Instead, his focus was concentrated much lower, on your lips, as you sucked the cream from your finger. Flushing, you pulled the thumb from between your lips and muttered, “Sorry again.”

His eyes were so trained on your lips, you were sure he was going to kiss you. You leaned forward, subtly inviting his lips on yours. He was leaning forward too, but at the last minute, a seagull squawked from the railing behind you, causing both of you to flush and pull away.

It had been like this between the two of you for a while now. Over the years, subtle flirtation was slowly turning into more poignant moments. There were times when you thought about just kissing him and getting it over with. Your friends all assured you that, with the way that he behaved, there was no way he was not into you. Despite their encouragements to go for it, there was always a small voice at the back of your mind that told you that just because he liked holding your hand didn’t mean that he wanted to kiss you. Sometimes you felt dumb for getting your hopes up.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts. Both of you glanced at each other at the same time, and when your eyes met, the blush that had all but subsided flared up again.

“Let me take a photo of you with that ice cream,” he insisted, obviously trying to defuse the tension a bit. He didn’t wait for your answer. He sat his ice cream in his place on the bench and stepped out into the crowd. You dipped the spoon into ice cream and brought it up, smiling as the camera captured the moment it touched your lips.

“Cute,” he remarked.

You stayed quiet, mind still dreaming of the almost kiss.  

(photos taken: 142)

“So, why’d you choose photography?”

Thoughts of the almost kiss had retreated to the far corners of your minds. It helped that you both took a minute away from each other to snap pictures of the people and seagulls that roamed the busy pier. You had been at it for about an hour before you reconvened, both of you leaning against the railing, staring off at the people playing in the water down below.

The question he asked was a difficult one to answer. There were a lot of reasons why you felt photography was your calling, but it was hard sometimes for words to do those emotions justice.

“I’ve always been a fangirl,” you began. “Since I was little. I guess, I really enjoy appreciating the work that other people do. Art as a medium, to me, has always felt like a good way to pay homage to others. I especially like photography because sometimes I feel like I’m capturing someone in a way that they’ve never seen themselves before. . .”

You trailed off, trying to organize your thoughts. Calum was so earnest in how he watched and listened, you wanted your ramblings to make sense.

“I imagine myself being a runway photographer sometimes.” You admit, something about his attention pulling confessions from you. “A lot of those girls have insecurities about their bodies, so it would be nice to take pictures of them in a way that reminds them of their beauty. And, I would get a chance to honor the work of the fashion designers too. It’s a dream job quite honestly.”

“You’ll be amazing at it,” he assured with the soft smile that he saves for you.

“You think so?”

“Without a doubt,” and there was no pause, no hesitation from him. “I’ve seen what you can do with portraits of random students on campus. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’d be great as a runway photographer.”

You turned your head away from him to smile. That day had been a constant battle of you trying to hide how soft you were for him. But, with him saying things so lovely and reassuring, it was hard for you to keep those emotions off your face.

“What about you?” You asked over bright smiles and brighter eyes. “Why are you doing photography?”

He shrugged. “Oh, I just became a photographer so I invite gorgeous girls to the beach with me and take photos of them.”

To punctuate his point, he brought his camera up to snap a picture of you.

You’re laughing in the picture, eyes vowing to ask him more about his interest in photography at a later date.

(photos taken: 396)

Neither of you could contain your laughter as Calum attempted to snap the picture. You were finding the most hilarious novelty items on the shelves of the pier stores. This one was a hat that said “Feeling Nauti” with an anchor accompanying the word. Cal thought it was hilarious, his hands barely able to hold on to the camera as his whole body shook with laughter.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, trying to settle himself. “Holy fuck, I won’t be able to use any of these photos, I was laughing so hard.”

Your laughter started dying down a little bit too as you took the hat off your head. Before you could place it back on the shelf, Calum reached out and grabbed it from you.

“What are you doing?” You asked as he stepped around you to the cash register.

You grabbed his hand, trying to pull him to a stop, but he was so much stronger than you, he just kept walking away. “I’m buying this hat,” he announced, waving it at the girl behind the register.

“What?” You exclaimed, immediately reaching out to grab the hat from him. When he held it out of your reach, you stepped closer, the camera on your chest bumping his. As you’re leaning and stretching your arm out to grab the hat, he winds his other arm around you, trapping you to his side.

One glance up into his deep brown eyes had you realizing your mistake. For the second time that day, he was close enough to kiss.

“What?” he asked, cheeks rising with his small smile. “It’s cute on you. I want you to have it.”

You stepped back out of his hold, not trusting yourself to be that close to his lips and unable to do anything about it.

“I will never wear that,” you admitted with a laugh.

He shrugged, “Okay, then let’s find you something that you will wear.”

You were about to complain, to let him know that you didn’t need him to buy you anything, when he suggested, “What if we get matching necklaces?”

You follow his line of sight to the shop’s display rack of novelty accessories. When a cute starfish necklace caught your eyes, all protests to his idea died in your throat. Maybe matching necklaces could be a good idea.

Just a few minutes later, he opted for the camera on his phone over the one around his neck, knowing that it would do a better job of taking a selfie showing off your new matching necklaces.

(photos taken: 640)

Silence settled between you both, as you walked hand in hand down the now mostly empty pier. You had just finished dinner - burgers and fries, of course, the quintessential pier diner dinner choice. Now you were both stuffed, combatting the feeling you got after a good meal at the end of a long day.

You had been at the beach for several hours now. You had chosen intentionally to visit mid-afternoon because, while early mornings at the beach were pretty, night time was even more breathtaking. Images of sunsets on the pier and bonfires after dark remained unmatched in your opinion. And, this would allow you to follow the instructions your professor had given - to pay special attention to the lighting of the photos you were taking.

It was sunset now. You had snapped a couple of pictures of it inside the diner and off the side of the pier. Now, you were climbing down steps, going back to the beach for the first time since earlier that afternoon. You wanted an image of the full pier with the sun setting behind it. Calum had other ideas.

He brought you both to a stop on the stairs and pointed over to where a man stood busking, guitar in hand, case opened before him.

“What?” you asked softly. Instead of responding, he just drew you closer to the music.

When your ears tuned into the music, you released a soft gasp. “I love this song.”

“Me too,” Calum mumbled.

It was Self Control by Frank Ocean. You thought it was fitting - a song about two people who ideally would be great together but were never on the same page about it. You wondered if that was you and Calum. If, unbeknownst to you, there was someone else on his mind, and all this had meant nothing to him.

“Dance with me?” He offered, removing the camera from around his neck.

You immediately shook your head no “Absolutely not.”

“Why?” He asked softly, reaching for your camera. Reluctantly, you allowed him to remove that as well. “There’s no one around.”

You looked around. While that was not entirely true (there were still a few people milling around here and there), you thought back to how packed it had been earlier that day. Now, it felt like you and Calum were the only two people on the beach.

He placed both your cameras down on a nearby bench, then reached out for your hand. “Come on, dance with me. Just until the end of the song.”

You had never been able to say no to him; this time was no different. You sighed and wound your arms around his neck, his arms coming to rest on your waist.  How did you always end up in these positions, you wondered, his face close enough to yours that you could kiss?

You looked away from him, laying your head against his chest, swaying gently in time with him and the music.

Softly, he said, “Today’s been nice.”

You nodded against his chest. “Good pictures, good food, and good company. We should do it again sometime.”

You didn’t expect him to ask eagerly, “Next weekend?”  

You tried to control your heart; it was so filled with hope - it wanted all this to mean something. Calum had been so sweet on you all day, and now he wanted to do it again the following weekend. You hoped something would happen between you soon, that a dynamic in your relationship would change or that he would give you a hint as to where all this was going. You weren’t sure how long you could stay in emotional limbo with him like this. On the other hand, you knew that you’d wait on a guy like Calum.

“Yeah, of course,” you accepted. Then, testing the waters, you added, “It’s a date.”

Nothing in the motion of his body - the way he swayed with you and softly rubbed circles on your back - suggested he was surprised by you calling it a date. You couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Softly, Calum sang along with the busker, “I, I, I know you gotta leave, leave, leave take down some summertime.”

This would have been a great picture - both of you just swaying silhouettes against the setting of the sun.

(photos taken: 859)

You were back where they started, but this time the parking lot was empty save your cars and a few others scattered here and there. You couldn’t believe the day had come to an end so quickly. After dancing to the busker, you had taken a few more photos of the smattering of people on the beach silhouetted by the light of the setting sun. You had also crashed a few bonfires. It was unfair how pretty Calum looked in their light. Eventually though, it started to get late, and you both had editing to do for other classes.

“Think we got a thousand photos?” Calum asked when you reached your car.

Already in the process of removing your camera and placing it back into its carrying case, you stopped to check.

“1,025,” you beamed.

“Then I must be over too,” he amended, not even checking his camera.

When you let out a big yawn, he asked, “Tired? Are you drive all the way home?”

You nodded, “I’ll just get some coffee on the way there.”

“‘Kay,” he said, pulling you in for a slight hug. “Be safe.” He pressed a kiss softly to the top of your hair. “Text me when you get home.”

He released you but did not step away. There you were again close enough to kiss for the fourth time that day. Your eyes flicked down to his lips, knowing you were being obvious, but unable to stop yourself. You considered just going for it, making the first move. Four times in one day couldn’t be a coincidence, he had to want it too. As you were getting on your tiptoes, he stopped you with a hand on your chin, tipping your head down, and placing a small chaste kiss on your forehead. “See you later, love.”

You sighed in disappointment as soon as he was far enough away.  

(photos taken: 1,011)

When you were sure all your camera equipment was securely in your trunk, you closed it and made your way to the car door.

Before you could open it, you heard Calum calling your name. When you turned around, he was right there. His hands gripped your chin as he brought your lips up to meet his. You had to take a moment to overcome your surprise before your eyelids were fluttering closed and you were sighing into the kiss.

“I can’t believe I was about to leave without kissing you,” he breathed out, lips barely parted from yours. “The plan was to do that much earlier if you couldn’t tell.”

You smiled. “Oh?” and giggled. The kiss had left you giddy. “This was all a part of some master plan?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning down to place another two quick pecks on your lips. “Part one actually.”

“What else are you gonna do?”

“Gonna kiss you more,” he punctuated his point with kisses on both cheeks. “Gonna take you that date next weekend.” One more kiss to the tip of your nose. “Gonna make you my girlfriend.”

Finally, as his lips met yours once more, you couldn’t help thinking that his plan didn’t sound half bad.

--

end notes:  come tell me what you thought of this fic especially if you find any mistakes also, send some love to jasmine. Love you all 💖

[kitsune-translates]

SCI 谜案集 [English Translation] Case 1: Number Killer

Previous

Number killer 16 Academic　

Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang have only come up with a speculation, but to prove that Xu and Zhang actually killed someone, they still need evidences.

In addition, professor Xu and Dr Zhan are both highly regarded in academia. Why spend all these efforts to kill an ordinary student? And what does it have to do with Zhan Zhao, is what Bai Yutang cares about the most.

The two of them decide to stay put and watch how it unfolds first. Bai Yutang gets Zhang Long to dig deeper into Professor Xu and Dr Zhang's background.

The tech team has set up pinhole cameras on level 13 and Xu Qing has arranged for surveillance around the school. After which, the police left the University.

By the time Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang return to S.C.I. office, the sky has already turned dark. 

Jiang Ping is busy on his computer. He has scanned the paper pieces Wang Chao and the rest brought back from Wu Hao's place and is working on image recovery analysis.

Gongsun comes out of the autopsy room with a piece of bread in his mouth and holding Li Feifan's autopsy report. 

He has found a grey spot on Li Feifan's neck and signs of skin damage, likely caused by a taser.

This further supports Zhan Zhao and Bai Yutang's theory. 

Zhao Hu asks in alarm, “Gongsun, were you eating while doing the autopsy?”

Gongsun turns around to look at him, chuckles chillingly and leans closer to say in a hair-raising tone, “Eating what?”

Zhao Hu yelps, “Oh my god” in fear and runs off.

The entire team decides to overtime in S.C.I. since none of them felt like sleeping.

Zhan Zhao has been on his computer typing the moment he returned to his office. Bai Yutang makes a round in the office and follows into Zhan Zhao’s office.

“Have you not seen the sign outside?” Zhan Zhao points at the ‘Do Not Disturb” sign outside of the door.

“I saw.” Bai Yutang sits down opposite Zhan Zhao, “Doesn’t it say ‘Welcome’?”

Rage! Zhan Zhao decides to ignore him and continues typing.

“What are you writing? Horror novel again?” Bai Yutang moves closer.

“When have I ever written novels? Those were research papers.” Zhan Zhao stresses.

“Hmm…” Bai Yutang picks up some books on Zhan Zhao’s desk at random, “Look at these book titles, <The Nature of Psychopathic Tendency>, <Reason and Barbarism>, <Dissection, Dismemberment and Disposal of bodies>…”

Bai Yutang throws the books back onto Zhan Zhao’s table like they were cockroaches, “Are these not horror novels?”

Zhan Zhao rolls his eyes at him vigorously, “Get out! You are distracting me.”

Bai Yutang leans in even closer, “What have you been working on? You have been writing a lot this couple of days.”

Zhan Zhao continues to type without looking up, “It’s about OCD. I have published a few pieces on the <International Journal of Psychology> (1) and gotten pretty good responses. My editor wants me to write them into a book.”

“OCD?” Bai Yutang slouches onto the desk and puts his hands against his chin, “What’s the difference between OCD and mental illness?”

Zhan Zhao would very much like to throw the mouse at his nose, “The only thing you can tell the difference is between a living man and a dead person!”

Bai Yutang grins at Zhan Zhao's annoyed expression and starts to look up and down the desk and the bookshelves, "Is that the <International Journal of Psychology>?" He points at a few thick magazines on the bookshelf. 

"Yep." Zhan Zhao takes a quick look and nods. 

Bai Yutang collects the magazines from the bookshelf and starts to flip through, “<Obsessive Compulsive Disorder and Psychological Suggestions>?”

Zhan Zhao gives him another look, “Yep, that's the one.”

Bai Yutang reads silently for some time before asking, “Cat, is this in English?”

Zhan Zhao frowns, continues to write and ignores him.

“Why do they look like English words separately, but don't read like English in a sentence?” Bai Yutang falls back into his seat holding the magazine, “The effect of suggestion on a normal individual is minimal, but for OCD patients it could be extreme. However, most people in the world has OCD on the subconscious level.”

Bai Yutang finishes the sentence with an open mouth, “Is this even human language anymore?”

Zhan Zhao crinkles his nose and looks at him as if he is illiterate, “In writing it is. But coming from your mouth, it doesn't sound so much like it anymore.”

Bai Yutang shrugs and continues, “For an OCD patient, once one is able to find the root for his disorder, suggestion can be used easily to change the patient's subconscious...” He shakes his head, “what does this mean?”

“It means what it says.” Zhan Zhao takes a sip of his tea and looks out of the office door, “Don't you have anything else better to do?”

But Bai Yutang seems fascinated by the article, he asks Zhan Zhao, “You mean, by using suggestion on someone with OCD, it can cause hallucinations?”

“Yep.” Zhan Zhao nods, “For those with a weaker will, it can directly disrupt his line of thoughts and beliefs. Or even cognition breakdown for the serious cases.”

"Oh? Prove it!" Bai Yutang points at his own nose, “Cause a breakdown.”

Zhan Zhao looks at him, tilting his head and then shakes his head, “You don't fulfil the criteria.”

“What criteria?” Bai Yutang asks.

Zhan Zhao finally shifts his attention away from his laptop and stares at Bai Yutang, “It needs to be someone with weaker willpower, less logical and poorer in communication skills.”

Bai Yutang considers, “So someone more cowardly, absent-minded and stupid?”

Zhan Zhao thought about it in a disgusted expression but nods anyway.

Bai Yutang grins in satisfaction, “Then that's easy.” He yells out to outside, “Zhao Hu.”

...

Zhan Zhao spots Zhao Hu running in cheerfully from afar and asks Bai Yutang in surprise, “What do you want to do?”

Bai Yutang smiles, “There is no need to cause a breakdown. Just confuse him will do.”  He pulls Zhao Hu in the office and seats him down in front of Zhan Zhao. 

He closes the door and draws the curtain. 

Zhao Hu look confused. He looks up at Zhan Zhao and then Bai Yutang, “Cap? What's going on?”

Bai Yutang winks at Zhan Zhao, meaning ‘this one fulfils the criteria’.

Zhan Zhao sighed in resignation and looks at Zhao Hu in pity. 

Bai Yutang raises his chin at Zhan Zhao in challenge, “If you can't do it, then you are lying.” 

Zhan Zhao looks at Bai Yutang's incredibly smug expression and clenched his teeth before looking at Zhao Hu, thinking, ‘Well, do it for science.’ Poor Zhao Hu has now become an experiment. 

“Zhao Hu, are you really Zhao Hu?” Zhan Zhao closes his laptop and asks Zhao Hu seriously. 

“Huh?” Zhao Hu blinks, “Dr Zhan, what do you mean?”

Zhan Zhao wears a grave expression, “Are you really Zhao Hu?”

Zhao Hu shudders uncontrollably and turns his head to ask Bai Yutang, “Cap? What's wrong?”

Bai Yutang holds back his laughter and says sternly, “Answer the question.”

Nodding in fear, Zhao Hu says shakily, “Y.. Yes.”

“Based on what evidence?” Zhan Zhao continues to ask. 

“...? My... personal ID?” Zhao Hu reaches in pocket to fetch his wallet. 

Zhan Zhao slams the table, “What evidence do you have that proves you are the same Zhao Hu as yesterday?”

……¯□¯……

Zhao Hu opens his mouth stupidly, “Yesterday... Yesterday and... Today... There's a difference?”

Zhan Zhao says, “I recall your grandfather has passed away?”

“... Ah. Yes...” Zhao Hu nods but he isn't following Zhan Zhao's train of thoughts anymore.

“Are you sure you had a grandfather?” Zhan Zhao asks. 

……¯□¯……

Zhao Hu has begun to get confused, “That... Didn't I just say it? He…he passed away, already.”

Zhan Zhao slams the table forcefully again, “Who can prove it?”

Zhao Hu almost jumps, “I... I can prove it, and my parents...”

Zhan Zhao sits back down and take a sip of his tea, “You mean, you have memories about him?”

“Yes! Yes!” Zhao Hu nods immediately.

“Then what if the memory is fake?”

....

“Fake?” Zhao Hu's eyes are looking like they have spirals in them (2), he looks at Zhan Zhao guilelessly.

Zhan Zhao continues slowly, “Think about it. What if, your grandfather has never existed. You and your family have been implanted with memories about your grandfather. Can you say for sure your grandfather has existed?”

Zhao Hu widens his eyes and looks at Zhan Zhao in shock. 

Zhan Zhao continues, “This is like people claiming aliens exist, but where’s the evidences?”

“... I... I don't know?” Zhao Hu moves his mouth, not knowing what to do. 

“Maybe you are an alien?” Zhan Zhao stares into Zhao Hu's eyes. 

……¯□¯……

Zhao Hu looks like he just got strafed by AK47. 

Bai Yutang waves his hands on the side, meaning, ‘That's enough, he is already plenty confused.’

Zhan Zhao refuses with a firm look, thinking, ‘This is just the start. I have to let you know what I'm capable of today.’

“Maybe, your whole family are aliens, just that you have been implanted with human memories and believe you are humans instead." Zhan Zhao smiles meaningfully, “Or maybe, Zhao Hu of yesterday has already dead. And the person here today is not Zhao Hu, but someone implanted with Zhao Hu's memories. Can you prove me wrong?”

After a moment of silence, Zhao Hu howls “Ahhhhhhhh”, leaping out of his chair and out of Zhan Zhao's office. He grabs onto Wang Chao walking towards him and wails, “Who am I?! Who am I?! I don't want to be an alien!!”

...The whole office, freezes collectively... 

Bai Yutang might have hurt himself laughing against the bookshelves.

Zhan Zhao folds his sleeve up elegantly. A tiger who doesn't roar would be mistaken as a sickly cat. He sits back down and opens his laptop to continue writing.

After Bai Yutang has laughed enough, he left Zhan Zhao's office. Not long after, he returns with a whole stack of files and drops them in front of Zhan Zhao.

Zhan Zhao looks up and sees that they are the files of the victims of this ‘Number Killer’ case. 

Bai Yutang asks meaningfully, “Cat, see if these folks fulfils the criteria for OCD and psychological suggestion.”

Zhan Zhao blinks and looks at Bai Yutang in understanding, “Oh, mouse, that's genius.”

Translator’s Footnote:

(1)    I am very surprised International Journal of Psychology actually do exist.

(2)    In case anyone need visualization of the spiral eyes: 

Next

[be-dazzled]

She’s In Your Court Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser FFnet link: click here Tumblr: all chapter + misc Genre: Multi-chap, Romance, Comedy Rating: M for sensitive language

Summary: Gray Fullbuster is a player both in love and in life. He plays Professional Basketball and is being groomed to be in line with Basketball Legends Michael Jordan, Lebron James, Kobe Bryant and Stephen Curry. There’s just one problem, Gray Fullbuster is a play-ah. His life is a giant mess of crazy parties, waking up with random women and waking up in random women’s apartments. Just living the life.

 The opinion of the public on him is waning. To save the million-dollar endorsements in the verge of disappearing, Gray needs to change his image. Therefore, Gray Fullbuster, Fiore Knight’s Team Captain and Most Valuable Player, will be in the next season of “My Star Can Dance”.

 There’s another problem: it seems like his star isn’t that bright since his partner, one of Fiore’s prominent ballerinas, doesn’t know him? His billboard is hanging in front of her dancing school! And it was a good billboard since all he was wearing was his six-pack and an Aztec bandana. How come she didn’t notice?

And you play it coy, But it's kinda cute. Ah, When you smile at me you know exactly what you do. Baby don't pretend, that you don't know it's true. Cause you can see it when I look at you.

- Everything, Michael Buble

 Juvia Lockser wondered what she had ever done wrong to deserve getting stuck with a five-year-old goofball trapped in a hot basketball star's body. The times she tried to make a conversation, Gray would twist her words and insist that she liked him, which was obviously not the case. Okay, maybe. Maybe, she liked him a little bit. Also, she liked his body a little bit.

 “Levy? Am I cursed?”

 Juvia fixed her hair in front of the full body mirror. She pulled her blue locks into a bun, leaving a few baby strands astray.

 “What do you mean?”

 Levy emerged behind the counter, dropping a stack of magazine on top the marble counter. The young assistant huffed. A smoke of dust irritated her sensitive nose.

 “Why do I have to be paired up with that guy?”

 “You mean, Mr. Gray?”

 My Star Can Dance’s assistant writer stacked the magazines neatly on one side and took another set from below the counter.

 “Don’t call him that.”

 “Why not?”

 Juvia turned away from the mirror and walked toward the young writer.

 “It reminds me of that book.”

 “Which book? Oh!”

 Levy blushed at the realization. Both Juvia and she read that book, not together though.

 “Didn’t you like Christian Grey?”

 “Don’t remind me.”

 Juvia rolled her eyes. Her mind wandered over the Fifty Shades trilogy she kept in her book case. That one made her reach for ice. The room’s temperature shot up to a hundred. The steamy scenes from the book and the movie played in her mind in vivid images.

 “Eh, a-a-anyway. Why was I even paired up with him? Is there no one else?”

 “I honestly don’t know.”

 Juvia grabbed Levy’s shoulders and spun the surprised Shrimp to face her. She wanted to look into her friend’s eyes to see if she was lying. Levy McGarden was telling the truth.

 Juvia sighed in defeat and let go of the surprised, and honestly a little scared, Levy.

 “Is it too late to change partners?”

 “Probably…”

 Juvia faced her with hopeful eyes. She would jump at the opportunity of getting rid of that Hoopster.

 But Levy intentionally kept the answer hanging.

 “No.” she finished.

 Levy let out a hearty laugh. It wasn’t everyday she could tease the woman who kept calling her Shrimp in High School. Revenge of the Shorties.

 Juvia glared at the woman. She was enjoying Juvia’s misfortune too much.

 “Why are you so against it? When I found out you were going to be paired up with Mr. Gray, I was so excited for you I screamed at my head writer!”

 Juvia could see Levy’s frustration. Well, she ought to feel lucky, shouldn’t she? Considering that… Juvia wondered for a second. Should she tell Levy the truth?

 “Well…”

 “I even remember when we were in High School, we skipped class just to mmmnn…”

 Shrimp’s next words were shut by Juvia’a quick hand.

 “Don’t say it out loud!”

 “What shouldn’t she say out loud?”

 The two women jumped in surprise. None of them heard Hoopsters footsteps. Gray was never that discreet. He made sure his presence was felt, one way or another. So, how did he manage to enter the practice room without detection?

 “Mmmnnnmm.”

 Juvia was horrified. Did Hoopster hear anything? And if he did, to what extent? The surprised, and a little anxious, bluenette was so preoccupied with these questions that she did not feel her hand suffocating one show writer.

 “Geez, woman. Release the poor girl.”

 Juvia only realized she was taking Levy hostage when Gray pointed it out. She immediately retrieved her hand that covered the writer’s mouth and apologized.

 “Was that a girl-on-girl thing you guys liked to do privately?”

 Gray should be thankful, Juvia thought. He should be thankful that there wasn’t anything within her reach. Otherwise, the ballerina would have grabbed the nearest thing, anything, to throw at the cheeky pervert.

 The day of the preshow was drawing near and Juvia was still not confident about their routine. Bunhead was thankful that the self-proclaimed basketball superstar agreed to drive down her studio for practice, even on weekends. She politely asked Levy if she could keep that a secret from the show and the crew members for the time being. Their presence made it hard for her and Gray to concentrate.

 “You just wanted to be alone with Mr. Gray.” Levy teased which Juvia didn’t seem to hear.

 All her attention was focused on one thing – impressing her idol. Nothing else mattered.

 Gray was all excited and giddy when he arrived at Juvia’s dance studio. Finally, he could have Bunhead all to himself. No cameras, no audience, just the two of them. It was time to put on the charms and the moves.

 Your savior has finally arrived! Was what Gray wanted to announce, kicking the door open. But he heard two people talking inside the practice room. He recognized the voices belonging to Juvia and Levy. He felt a pang of disappointment. So, they were not alone.

 Gray recovered from the dismay when he heard the two talking about him. He pressed his ear against the door to hear more. He did not like how they talked about him anymore like he was some kind of plague Juvia would rather avoid.

 Something sparked his interest though, when he heard Levy say something about skipping class in High School. He was hogging the door already when silence came and Juvia yelled at the other woman thereafter.

 What shouldn’t she say out loud?

 “Hello, Mr. Gray.”

 Being alone with Bunhead? It was too good to be true.

 “Hello, Levy.”

 “Good, you’re here.”

 Juvia walked past Shrimp, sidestepping Levy. She acted so casually like she was not suffocating the other woman earlier.

 “What? Afraid you can’t trust yourself to be alone with me?”

 Juvia knew exactly what he meant. She glanced at the innocent buffer she asked the previous night. Levy was more than happy to come. Better than waiting for death a.ka. Levy’s Head-Writer to call. Bunhead was sure Gray would seize the opportunity to try something funny. She just did not trust the conceited Hoopster to be alone with her. If Juvia was being honest, she couldn’t trust herself around him too.

 “Afraid I can’t trust myself not to kick your balls if no one is here to stop me? Yes.”

 How did Juvia maintain a straight face when she said that? She needed to impress Fiore’s Prima Ballerina, Aquarius. That’s it.

 “Get ready, we’ll start in five minutes.”

 Wow, not even a good morning?

 Juvia disappeared behind a divider. Since Gray was already in his practice clothes, he decided that the best use of his five minutes was to interrogate the third wheel about earlier.

 “So, Levy...”

 As much as he did not appreciate Levy’s presence, Gray was not rude enough to send her away. But he stumbled upon fascinating information and it appeared that Levy held the key to open it. Thus, Gray walked over to the counter where the writer stood behind.

 “What were you guys talking about?”

 “Nothing, Mr. Gray.”

 Levy was a bad liar. It showed on her face when she tried. So, she trained her evasive eyes at the flower painting on the wall behind Gray, not wanting them to give her away.

 “Would you like some water?” She beamed at him, obviously trying to change the subject.

 But Gray would not go down without putting up a fight. He ignored her offer and leaned over the counter, standing face to face with the fidgety Levy, their faces just inches away.

 “Why did you guys skip class in High School?”

 Gray has realized that women tend to become more honest when he looked straight into their eyes; like he was some kind of truth serum.

 But something more interesting caught his attention. He easily recognized the GQ front cover photo sticking out the stack of Juvia's Dance Magazine collection. He pulled it out and beamed. How could he not recognize it when he had a large portrait of that sexy GQ photo hanging in his bedroom?

 The curious cat spread the stack on top of the counter. His smile grew wider with every discovery. Juvia kept a fair share of his sport and health-related magazine covers. Maybe, even all of them.

 “If you’re done interrogating Levy, shall we start?”

 The ballerina’s approaching light steps painted a sly smile on Gray’s face – one that reminded her of the cat in Alice in Wonderland.

 “So…”

 Gray raised a number of magazines in Juvia’s face, intimidating her into admitting to the truth. What a stroke of luck! Gray was just asking for some recognition. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever imagine that that hostile little thing was actually a fan. Gray finally succeeded.

 “Th-that’s not mine!”

 Almost.

 But Gray wouldn’t buy it. Her guilty blue eyes, and the overwhelming evidence in his hand, said otherwise.

 “You know, there’s nothing wrong with being my fan.”

 He dangled the evidence in front of Bunhead – taunting her. The number of copies was overwhelming. Some even dated back from when he was just starting making a name for himself. The magazines and their variety were definitely in the level of a collector’s item.

 Juvia, however, did not take the bait.

 “They’re probably Mary’s. She’s a fan.”

 “Mary only started here a year ago, Juvs. These looked like they were here for quite some time.”

 Juvia shot daggers at the traitor.

 Really, Levy? Whose side are you on?

 “Then, maybe, my mother’s. So, can we start now, Sherlock?”

 The insult in the end only grazed Gray's inflated ego. How could it be Olivia when the poor woman could not even remember him even if his giant billboard stared her in the face? Before he can retort back, Juvia was already at the center of the room, eager to start the practice. And drop the subject.

 Gray replaced the evidence on the desk, retreating for now. He threw a glance at the writer behind the counter. She avoided his eyes almost immediately. Guilty as charged.

 Gray put two in two together. This discovery was a gold mine: he was not going to let this go. The athlete-celebrity lit his imaginary cigarette in his mind. Oh, Sherlock was going to get to the bottom of this.

 Gray moved behind Juvia's slender figure, falling on their opening position. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his open palms flat on her torso. When Juvia leaned her head back against his athletic shoulder, following the choreography, the raven-haired could not help but take in the scent of her fresh perfume – a combination of sweet and sexy and evasive.

 Gray was supposed to dip his head against the ballerina’s neck but his warm, soft lips brushing lightly against it ruined Juvia's concentration. So, she decided against it, much to her partner’s dismay. They settled with Hoopster just looking straight ahead.

 “Why can’t you just admit it?”

 At the first drop of the beat, Juvia lowered her body, sliding against Gray’s, and stopped midway. Both her open palms rested on the athlete’s strong hips for support. She extended her right foot forward, with toes pointing sharply outwards, and drew an arc on the floor before pulling it back to its original position.

 “Admit what?”

 The bluenette’s skinny arms snaked around Gray’s neck and her slender fingers interlocked behind it. Her back was still at him. Both her feet lightly brushed against the carpet when Hoopster spun Juvia once. She finished the sequence with her left leg held in a powerful en pointe.

 “That you do know me.”

 “I never said I didn't.”

 “But that time…”

 “Will you drop it and concentrate on the dance?”

 Juvia missed a step in a turn and collided against the Hoopster. Something she has been getting really good at lately.

 “I won’t stop until you admit.”

 The bluenette fell on her opening position with her left foot – the working foot – pointed in front of the other with a space between them. She stepped and put all her weight on her working foot and ended her first turn with a passé by lifting her toe up and resting it on the side of her knee. She was too busy perfecting her pique turns to listen to Hoospter.

 But Gray was not a quitter.

 “Until you admit that you are a…”

 Second pique turn.

 Hoopster tailed the ballerina as she repeated the traveling turning step in a diagonal.

 “Big.”

 Third pique turn.

 “Fat.”

 Juvia got a little distracted and missed her landing in the final sequence. She was about to make contact with the floor when Gray’s agile reflexes kicked in and caught her.

 “Fan.”

 Juvia blinked at Hoopster. Blinked. Blinked again. She waited for him to put a stop in their awkward position but Gray had no intention in doing so. Not until he got the ballerina to admit to his suspicions.

 “Will you stop it and just pull me up?”

 “Not until you say it.”

 Juvia smiled at him but her eyes promised danger.

 “Pull me up or I’ll kick your balls.”

 Gray immediately complied. He wouldn’t dare find out if that woman was kidding or not.

The date of the preshow came fast. It was a close-door event held at the Magnolia Amphitheater. The signed judges for the show would watch and comment on the contestants’ performance before they go live. Some sort of a culminating activity in a dance camp.  

 Juvia’s heart was racing. Not because she was nervous about the dance nor to dancing before an audience. She was already used to auditions and live performances. No. The reason why Juvia has been waiting in bated breath was because in any moment she would be standing face to face with her childhood dance hero, Fiore’s Prima Ballerina – Aquarius.

 She was so excited she didn’t get any shuteye the night before.

 Juvia paced Gray’s dressing room, sitting and doing nothing would not help her calm down.

 “Juvia, you are going to bore holes on the floor if you keep doing that.”

 Blue eyes glared at the man in front of the vanity mirror having his make-up taken care of.

 “Wow, you have really good skin, Mr. Gray.”

 The make-up artist returned the sponge and foundation in her bag, deciding that with Gray’s flawless skin loose powder would do the trick. It was like a woman’s!

 “Thanks, Laki. The secret is actually staying hydrated. I also take good care of my skin.”

 “It really shows!”

 Juvia rolled her eyes. How could this weirdo think about beauty regimen when she was about to lose her mind just thinking about meeting Aquarius?

 A slight knock on the door interrupted the talk about moisturizers and facial creams.

 “Excuse me, Mr. Gray, Ms. Juvia. We’ll come out in ten minutes. The judges have arrived. We’d like to introduce you to them before we start.”

 Juvia’s heart somersaulted.

 “Alright. Thank you.”

 Juvia felt embarrassed forgetting her manners. It was Gray who thanked him on their behalf.

 Juvia spun to see Gray climbing down his sit. On the vanity mirror behind him, she could see that they both were wearing black. It wasn’t anything fancy since this was just the preshow. The material hugged his body so fine and perfectly. Anything looked good on Hoopster. Even just a plain shirt and tattered pants. He looked heavenly walking towards her with giant smile on his face.

 A heavy pair of hands landed on Juvia’s shoulders.

 “You ready?”

 For the dance? Yes. In meeting her childhood dance hero? Juvia’s mind went hazy for a moment.

 “Let’s go then.”

 She didn’t hear herself answer. The excitement and anxiety of meeting Aquarius rendered Juvia speechless and made her lose all functions. So, Juvia let Hoopster push her outside the door and into the lobby.

 Juvia would surely regret later how she let Hoopster take the lead and how she showed weakness today. For now, she let the Hoopster be.

 The crew members asked the contestants to form a single line. The executive producer would be introducing each of them to the three judges – an up and coming danseur, a musical directress and the woman whom made Juvia fall in love with dancing.

 Juvia’s ears throbbed at the sight of Aquarius. She looked so beautiful and surreal. The whole moment felt so surreal. Juvia’s heart hammered against her chest, hard. Was she dreaming?

 The moment of the meeting arrived. Aquarius was shaking the last hand before she extended hers to Juvia. Bunhead did not hear what the executive producer just said. Her eyes were trained at the elegant beauty standing in front of her.

 “I’ve heard a lot about you, Ms. Lockser.”

 Lockser? Was she talking to her?

 “Oh… I’m sorry. I’m a big fan, Ms. Aquarius.”

 Juvia finally managed to spit out coherent words. Thank goodness.

 “And I’m Gray Fullbuster. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 Juvia saw Hoopster take Aquarius’ hand, flip it and kissed the back of her palm. Juvia heard the woman let out a soft laugh. So did the others. She felt a bit jealous. Fullbuster was so suave.

 “My, my. If it isn’t Fiore Knights’ miracle worker.” She was referring to Gray’s nickname in the basketball circle. “My husband’s a big fan of Fiore Knights and yours, Mr. Fullbuster.”

 “Gray will do, Ms. Aquarius.”

 See? Even Fiore’s Prima Ballerina knew him. Juvia Lockser was probably an alien for not knowing and not getting excited about his existence.

 The other two judges, a man and a woman whom Gray had no idea who they were, shook his hands too. They made small talk with him before the executive producer led them to the next couple and to the last. Mr. Producer would not want to others to think that they were playing favorites.

 The executive producer then led the group somewhere else and the contestants were told to go to the backstage.

 Juvia lingered behind, her eyes plastered at the woman with the long blue hair.

 “Wow, Ms. Aquarius looked really young for her age, doesn’t she?”

 Juvia ignored him.

 “If she wasn’t married I would definitely hit that. Oomph.”

 Juvia turned a heel and walked away so casually like she did not just elbowed Hoopster at the side.

 “Geez, are you jealous or something?”

Gray nursed the shot of pain at his side. That woman has really turned violent. Well, maybe, he deserved it. He just made a pass at her childhood heroine.

 His midnight eyes searched the waiting room for his attacker. They found the culprit standing at the opening that led to the main stage. Gray pushed himself up and walked over there.

 “I didn’t know you are such…” Gray heard she liked that BDSM book. “a sadist.” He whispered.

 “Aw!” He yelped. Now his other side throbbed in pain.

 “Geez, woman. If I won’t be able to perform tonight–” He started to make her feel guilty about her violence when Juvia grabbed his shirt and pulled him down to her eye level.

 “You make sure we make it to this preshow or else…”

 Remember, nothing pretty came after or else.

 “You know that thing you are so proud of?”

 Gray found himself unable to concentrate. Juvia was so close that he could smell her perfume. So intoxicating.

 “What thing?”

 Juvia did not answer his question. Instead, her sharp eyes drifted down south. Gray followed the trail, his eyes landing on...

 Did she mean his thing?

 “I’ll cut it.”

 Gray jerked back, instinctively crossing his arms over his favorite part of his body. The threat against his manhood sobered him quickly.

 “Y-you’re kidding, right?”

 “Do you want to find out?”

 Hell no. The woman just threatened to castrate his happiness. Of course, he wasn’t going to try to even find out if she was serious.

 Because Juvia Lockser trying to impress her idol was dead serious.

Juvia sighed. She sighed for the umpteenth time that morning.

 “Honey, if you keep doing that all day, you are going to suffocate my plants.”

 Olivia finally voiced out her concern for her plants, which she meticulously grew herself around their kitchen. And if there was something that irritated the classy woman more than the indirect threat to her beloved pots was her daughter losing her table manners.

 Juvia had both her feet up on the seat, crossed in an Indian sitting position. Her elbow was propped on the table to support her messy-bunned head. And she has not touched her breakfast.

 “What’s bothering you?” She slid in one of their expensive table chairs. “And will you put your feet down? Elbows off the table too.”

 The younger bluenette knew better not to argue so she politely complied, putting down her feet on the floor. She kept forking her sausage on the plate though.

 “Are you nervous about the live show?”

 Juvia nodded.

 Concern flashed on Olivia’s blue eyes, a shade lighter than her daughter’s.

 “Why?”

 “You’ve seen our practice, Mom. Fullbuster is an okay dancer, to say the least, but we seem to be–” Juvia searched for the right word. “– uncoordinated.” Just the perfect word.

 “He keeps stepping on my foot. Then we collide against each other every chance there is. He even keeps dropping me.”

 Juvia massaged her left arm which was still sore from slamming against the floor.

 “Plus, you heard what Aquarius had to say with our routine at the preshow.”

 Bunhead was still mortified. She came in that theater with one goal: impress Fiore’s Prima Ballerina. Aquarius did pay her compliments with her skills in dancing but she said she wanted to see more, feel more. The shame of failing her hero miserably has not eased up even three days after the preshow.

 Juvia whined at her mother when she mentioned about her weight and saying it was probably the problem. The ballet teacher maintained that she kept watching her diet and she weighed normal for her height.

 Olivia Lockser chuckled at the way her only daughter was defending her weight. She teased the young Lockser who looked all flustered. Olivia cleared her throat, trying to gain composure. When the giggles died down, the older Lockser spoke in a more serious tone.

 “Then, maybe you need to know your partner better.”

 Juvia was skeptical.

 “What’s that got to do with anything?”

 Hearing her stomach complain, Juvia finally took a bite of her sausage. All those denying and defending made her hungry.

 “I don’t think the problem is that you and Gray are uncoordinated. The problem is that you are quite hostile towards Gray.”

 Juvia was offended. Of course, she denied the accusations. But her mother insisted that she was definitely mean towards Gray.

 Was her mother taking Gray’s side?

 “Hypothetically, let’s say that I am quite... unwelcoming… towards him.” Juvia was careful in choosing her words, playing down her hostility. “How does it affect our dancing?”

 “Dancing is like making love.”

 Juvia knew spit-takes were definitely not funny in real-life. But she did one however, spitting out the chunked pieces of her sausage. She wiped her mouth quickly. Only if she could wipe the redness of her face with the napkin too.

 “I’m sorry. Wh-what?”

 Olivia chuckled at how childish her daughter reacted to the word ‘making-love’. She was already twenty five for goodness sake.

 “Dancing is an expression of one’s self. It reveals one’s soul. We expose a part of our self in every step, in every move. Through dancing we relay a message, we tell a story.”

 Olivia’s words were profound and enlightening. No trace of the bully of a mother she was earlier.

 “Like making love, dancing unites not only the mind and the body but the heart as well. That intimacy between partners then translates into a move that reaches its intended audience and touches anyone who watches.”

 Juvia pondered over her mother’s words. Same as what Aquarius said during the preshow. The Prima Ballerina did not exactly use the same words (especially the word ‘making-love’. What is up with that?) but Juvia knew what she was driving at, that the routine lacked heart.

 Dance to express, not impress.

 “Honey, you’re a great dancer. You don’t have to prove yourself in that respect. And you and Gray? Well, you do look good together but you can’t translate that chemistry through your dance because, like I said, you are hostile towards him.”

 Guilt hit Juvia like a pandemonium, over and over again. Was she really to blame? Juvia knew her mother wasn’t pointing fingers. It was probably Olivia’s way of reminding her to warm up to Gray a little.

 Looking back at the first few days she has spent with Hoopster, all she did was argue with him. They never even had a decent talk. He was the one to blame. All that Hoopster did was test her patience and annoy the hell out of her. However, if Juvia was being honest, Gray was the more cooperative one between them.

 Gray arrived before call time. He never complained about anything he was asked to do for the show. He wasn’t a diva at all. Unlike those celebrities she worked with during the first season. In fact, they had that one moment, albeit brief, before the start of the preshow when Gray gave her a pep talk. Probably out of habit since he was the Fiore Knight’s Team Captain. Still, Juvia felt a little relieved back then.

 He was supportive too. When Juvia was overwhelmed with the thought of meeting her childhood hero, Gray stepped up and proved to be someone she could rely on. Someone she could trust. Juvia should start trusting her partner. To do that, she needed to open up to him, even just a little bit.

 The faint screech of the chair's legs against the carpeted floor pulled Juvia out of her thoughts. Olivia was getting out of her seat to attend to her plants again. But before she did, she faced her daughter and left her one last advice.

 “Keep that in mind, honey.”

Writer’s Corner: You guys! We’re on the last revised chapter. It’s time to contiue to chapter 6. Anyone else noticed how charged the air is between these two? So much sexual tension. With that, should I go down that path? Should I write le sexy times between Gruvia? Let me know!