#i might just write this fanfic after season is over

[eugene-da-potato]

Thinking about possible fanfic/au idea, where Paper after the end of second season decides to leave Hotel for a while to develop his own self-identity outside of his life with OJ, and OJ, living without Paper for the first time in almost a decade, realises how codependent with him he actually became and how much of his mental state were tied to Paper being by his side. Both of them learn to live without one another and find their own separated support systems and when Paper eventually comes back (because, still, all of his friends live here, duh) we're both self-sufficient but still appreaciate each other's positive traits and now are able to form functioning healthy relationships...

Yeah I think about them a lot

[gyuwoncheol]

Sir, Please.

Pair: Wonwoo x f.reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut. 18+ only (MDNI).

Summary: Wonwoo doesn’t mind keeping you at the edge if it means watching you fall apart.

Warnings: Dom!Wonwoo, Sir! kink, edging, cockwarming, unprotected sex (stay safe, children), squirting, clitoral stimulation, lots of making out, creampie, pussy slapping (like once), overstimulation, dacryphilia, breast play, wrist pinning, dirty talk, use of pet names (Sir, good girl, darling, love, baby, sweetie), glorious aftercare (Wonu is the best), fluff. Please let me know if i missed something. Not proofread, might come back to fix up errors.

WC: 3k

Author’s note: First smut piece for Wonwoo my love. This was only supposed to be post-sex cuddles fluff but thought it was the right time to finally write smut for my favorite boy. As is the plot of this piece, good things come to those who wait 😏 Enjoy!

Tagging fellow Wonu lovers @multi-kpop-fanfics @playmetheclassics for the chaos.

“What’re you doing?” Your boyfriend quizzed, your bare body still on top of his, a cheek resting against his bare chest.

“Doodling,” you mumbled casually as your finger continued to draw lazy patterns on his side.

“Darling, it tickles.”

“I don’t see you flinching.”

“You’re on top of me. If I flinch, you might fall.” He stated matter-of-factly.

You craned your neck to look up at him, flashing a wide grin momentarily, “then suffer.”

You shook along with Wonwoo as he laughed at your reply, a strong arm secured tightly around your torso, while his free hand cradled the back of your head.

A large smile was permanently etched on Wonwoo’s face as you both laid in comfortable silence. When he had collapsed onto you just minutes ago after reaching his climax, he had asked so nicely if he could stay inside a little longer and who were you to complain? You’ve craved for this kind of intimacy with him for awhile now after being both so busy with work.

“You’re lucky i love you,” Wonwoo declared as he kissed the top of your head.

You hummed in response, trailing your fingers again on his side, nails lightly scratching on his skin, “did you just write ‘i love you too’ on my ribs?” He laughs, and you nod an affirmative.

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and snuggling more into your boyfriend’s chest. Now would be a good time for time to stand still. The setting sun casted warm hues of light inside your bedroom and while the airconditioning was cold, Wonwoo was radiating just the right amount of heat to keep you from shivering.

“I’ve missed you,” you blurted out.

“I know, sweetheart. I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed this,” another kiss was placed on top of your head, “i’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

“I’m sorry too,” you sighed, resting your chin on his pecs to face him. “I wish i had more time to visit you in practice, or even just see you for lunch.”

“That’s okay, darling. We’re both just in our busy season. It will be over soon, yeah?” This time, Wonwoo’s palm was rubbing circular motions on the small of your back. “I was thinking we should go on a vacation when this all boils over.”

Your eyes grew wide, excited at your boyfriend’s suggestion, “really?”

“Yeah, maybe the countryside? Or out of the country? Where do you want?”

A blush crept up your cheeks at Wonwoo’s gesture of letting you choose, but honestly, you could’ve just stayed at your home and it would be okay. The last time you had a vacation, he made you choose the place too but this time, you didn’t really have a shortlist of destinations. You craned your neck to kiss his lips shortly, “surprise me?” You smiled shyly, “maybe somewhere peaceful and with fresh air? Anywhere as long as it’s with you is all I want, darling.”

“Okay, i’ll plan it out.” He confirmed before rolling you both over so his body hovered above yours

“Where are you going?” You pouted when he made a move to slip out of you.

“I need to clean you up, sweetie.”

You hooked a leg around his waist in retaliation, not at all ready to feel empty just yet. You attempted the most doe eyes you could muster, looking up at your boyfriend through your lashes and clenching your pussy as you did so, “Don’t you wanna fuck me one more time?”

Wonwoo scoffed at your question, the corner of his lips pulling into a devious smile at your sweet tone, “can’t get enough, darling?” His voice was lower by a few octaves, enough to send a shiver through your spine and a gush of wetness in your cunt.

“N-no, sir.”

Wonwoo smirked at the nickname before doing an experimental thrust. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he simply chuckled before dragging his cock out slowly and then swiftly burying himself to the hilt, rendering you even more speechless than you were. He could feel the rhythmic spasming of your walls, causing him to grow harder and harder.

You cupped his face to bring it closer to yours, kissing him and sucking at his lower lip. Wonwoo smiles in the kiss, amused at your neediness especially when he feels you lift your hips and roll them on his.

“Eager are we?”

“Wonuuu,” you whined pathetically, clawing at his back.

“Wonu?” he questioned with a glare, pinning you to the mattress agressively, “that’s not what you called me minutes ago, darlin’”

“Well, I don’t know where he went. Maybe if you give me what I want then I’ll start calling you it again,” you smirked, dragging your nails a little more harshly on his skin making him hiss.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, only to dive into your right breast and suck harshly at the bud, eliciting a loud moan from you. He snakes his hand in between you both, thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in circles, immediately feeling you clench around his dick again.He mutters something about you being responsive but it flies over your head as he picks up his pace. The slide is much easier given your mixed cum and your new arousal so it takes him record time to hit your sweet spot. Every ridge and vein on his cock drags against your walls in a way that’s more delicious than awhile ago.

“S-sir, pl-pleaasee,” you shake, the pit of your stomach tightening as you arch your back.

“Does my darling want to cum?” The nickname sounds sickly sweet as it rolls off his tongue and it only helps you get closer to the edge.

You nod your head repetitively, chants of ‘yes’s’ and ‘oh’s’ spilling from your lips, but then Wonwoo withdraws his hand from your sensitive bud and stills inside of you, a vice grip around your body as he licks the shell of your ear, “you don’t get to cum until I say so.” The words were loud, clear and firm, in a tone you knew all too well.

“But Won—“ you cry out loud, tears forming in your eyes as you feel your climax painfully float away.

“Nuh uh,” two harsh thrusts are delivered straight to your gspot as your boyfriend hooks one of your legs on his shoulder, “Call me wrong again and I will not let you cum at all.”

“Fuuuuck,” you mewl from the way his cock rams into you with the new angle, following it up with whines at the thought of getting no release, “S-sorry, sir! ‘M sorry!”

“There it is. Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Wonwoo mocks, “now be my good girl and hold it out for me, yeah?”

You’re a incoherent mess as you try to obey him, but it isn’t so easy when his large cock is abusing your sore, sloppy cunt. Words of filth pair each one of his powerful thrusts.

“My dirty little whore”

“So fuckin’ needy for my cock.”

“Can’t get enough of this pussy.”

“Your pussy is mine.”

“All made for me.”

You were letting out moans of pleasure as Wonwoo pounded into you mercilessly, the knot in your stomach making itself felt again.

“Fu– ah! Fuck, s-sir! Please!” You asked, but it only fell on deaf ears. Both your wrists were tightly pinned with just one of your boyfriend’s large hand above your head and his blown out pupils were looking right at you.

“Make me cum, make me cum, make me cum, please!!!” you begged shamelessly, voice shaking and legs closing in as you teetered on the edge of your orgasm.

“Not. Yet.” Wonwoo withdrew fully from your hole and you shrieked at the loss, your hips lifting to chase after his dick only to have it slammed down by his free hand.

“Sir!!!” You scowled, eyebrows scrunching and eyes wide, anger and pain washing away yet another failed orgasm.

A proud, lopsided smirk appeared on your boyfriend’s face. He licked his bottom lip, enjoying the torture he beset on you despite his painfully hard cock.

“What?”

It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t asking, you knew that much.

“Nothing,” you cowered and blinked back your tears, erasing the anger in your face much to your dismay.

“Good girl.”

You swallowed thickly, squirming once more when Wonwoo tapped his heavy length on your pussy, coating himself with your slippery wetness— not that he needed any more of it— before purposely slapping your swollen clit with his angry red tip. The stimulation from that alone already had your toes curling and it took every fibre of your being to not just unravel right there.

You should’ve known calling him ‘sir’ would lead to this, but behind the tearful denials, you knew immense pleasure awaits.

“Siirrr, p-please! I n-need it.”

“Shhh. Patience, darling. We’ve got lots of time.” The demonic chuckle Wonwoo let out had you whimpering pitifully, your hands fighting to break free from his hold.

It seemed your boyfriend was hell bent on prolonging your agony when he simply continues to endlessly tap his shaft on your clit as he pumps himself.

Wonwoo was not usually loud in bed, save for his occasional grunts and broken groans when he falls into bliss. However, he’s decided now would be the perfect time to make matters all the more worse for you. He was being loud about it all, no holds barred. The squelching noises of his dick against your wet lips is now easily drowned out by the guttural moans Wonwoo has let slip past his mouth. You thought his dirty talk is music? Well, this was a symphony.

You had thought you wouldn’t get close this time around since he wasn’t inside you but the relentless knocks on your clit and the obnoxiously loud moans of your boyfriend have proved you wrong. Your hands balled into fists and you squeezed your eyes shut, mentally fighting off the ball of pleasure in your lower abdomen.

“Look at you, fighting so hard,” Wonwoo snickers, pressing down the tip of his cock to your clit in slow circular motions, “show me how good you are yeah?”

“Yes yes yes! ‘M good! Your good girl, promise!” You were so far gone, pliant to each one of your boyfriend’s requests.

“So wet, you’re soiling the bed,” he points out the obvious, “what a fuckin’ mess.” Wonwoo saw another shiver run through you, indicating you were seconds away from release. So for the third time that day, he denies you of the very thing you crave for, letting go of your wrists and then landing a sharp smack to your pussy before completely backing away to watch you spasm and curl up into a ball of needy tears and pathetic whines.

Your head was spinning and your senses were more than heightened. The slippery feeling of your arousal between your thighs were making it harder for you to squeeze them shut and stay still. Wonwoo simply loomed over you, giving you enough time to stabilize your breathing and let your failed orgasm ebb away. He knew that if he’d put so much just as one finger on your skin, you’d cum right away. Contrary to his actions, he wanted you to cum, but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you cry for it first.

“S-sirr,” you sobbed.

A gentle touch carefully landed on your calf and when you didn’t flinch away, Wonwoo let out a sigh of relief, “Yes, baby?”

“Please,” your voice barely above a whisper, “n-need you…”

Whatever other words you had planned were swallowed by Wonwoo in a searing kiss. It was sloppy and messy, his skillful tongue darting to yours, teeth biting at your lips. You both moaned in unison when he impaled you on his cock once more.

“So big,” you groaned, initially amused at the delicious stretch until you realised, he’s had to hold off his own orgasm too.

Wonwoo gives it his all, jackhammering into you like it would be the last time. The sound of moans and skin slapping skin reverberate around the room. And then, there it is again, a coil so tight on your stomach, you fear you’re going delirious to the point of no return.

“Wo— Sir!” You quickly correct yourself, losing the least bit of dignity you had, tears drenching your cheeks, “i’m b-begging, p-please…”

The gentle kiss on your nose set a stark contrast from how his cock abused your sopping cunt, but relief finally took over you at the words whispered in your ear, “so good for me. Let go, baby. I got you.”

A strangled cry ripped out of your throat, your orgasm gloriously hitting you like a tidal wave. Wonwoo continued to talk you through it while holding down your convulsing body and slamming his hips into you, the sight of your pussy creaming his cock eventually producing broken moans from him.

“B-babe, too– ah! Too m-much!” More tears fell on your face as Wonwoo did deep snaps, his pelvic bone grinding on your clit.

“C’mon baby, m’ close. S-so close!”

Incomprehensible noises tumbled out of you when your boyfriend buried himself deep, pushing onto your sweetest spot and stilling there. Between his guttural groans, the perfect ‘O’ shape of his mouth and the thick loads of hot white cum that flooded your velvety walls, another coil snapped within you, a new round of arousal seeping out of your spent hole, except this time, much wetter and hitting you like a ton of bricks.

“Fuuuck, darling,” Wonwoo trembled as the last of his nectar oozed out, “did I just make you squirt?”

“Fuck off,” you scowled, wishing you had more energy to wipe the smug look plastered on your boyfriend’s face.

“So I did?” Wonwoo pursed his lips and scrunched his nose, a look you very much love but absolutely hate right now.

You let your bottom lip jut out in a pout, your brows drawing to the center of your face, “how could I not when you edged me like that!”

“You’re cute,” was his only response, very slowly slipping his softening cock out of you. Your sweet boyfriend peppered kisses all over your face, replacing your frown with a smile. “Did I make you feel good, darling?” He asked genuinely, not wanting to ever subject you to something which you didn’t enjoy doing.

You gave him a shy nod, pulling him closer by his neck to close the gap between your mouths and share a loving kiss, much like how it was way earlier. It didn’t take long for you to part, your lungs still recharging to full capacity after having all the air knocked out of you.

Wonwoo gave you more time to recover, resting his head on the crook of your neck to leave soft kisses on your skin, especially on the blooming bruises he left in his wake.

“Darling, you can’t sleep yet,” he shook you gently when he noticed your prolonged stillness.

A small whine escaped your lips, “but Woo… i’m tired.”

“I know, i know,” he hushed softly, “but we need to get you cleaned up and also, change the sheets. I’ll make it quick.”

You had no time nor energy to protest. You were simply being carried bridal style into the bathroom, your boyfriend making sure you peed before he went on to wash up yours and his sweaty body with warm water. He was so so tender with his touch, especially in all parts between your legs. He’d keep an observant eye to every reaction your face made, careful not to cause any pain.

“Can… can you be mine?” you squeaked, and Wonwoo giggled at the drunken look of love on your face. Every time you think nothing can top sex with your boyfriend in your own little list of World’s Most Wonderful Things, you’re reminded that aftercare by him exists.

“Darling, i’m already yours,” Wonwoo chuckles.

You noded with a grin, brain really starting to drift off into slumber, “I like that.”

He fixes his glasses by the bridge of his nose after giving you a once-over, now dressed in cotton panties and one of his large navy blue shirts which hung mid-thigh on you.

Wonwoo lifts you up to sit on the bathroom counter before cupping your cheeks to meet your eyes, “baby, can you sit here and wait for me for about 10 to 15 minutes, please? I need to change our sheets.”

He had expected you to whine and retaliate, knowing you were always extra clingy after sex, but you simply nodded and smiled. You think you felt his lips on your forehead but you aren’t too sure.

The moment Wonwoo slips out of the bathroom, you’re fighting not to fall asleep, but 15 minutes is long, and maybe you can just lean your head a bit on the cold marble tile—

“Let’s get you to bed, love,” the tall man chuckles as he lifts you in his arms. You swore it hadn’t been fifteen minutes, not even ten! But then he walks past your bed and out of your shared bedroom. The light of the hallway enough to stir your brain awake.

“Where are we going?” You ask, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck as he cradles you into another room.

Wonwoo laughs at your question, “We have to take the guest bedroom for the night, darling. You’ve soaked through our mattress.”

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Pick One: Magical Girl Show or Rom-com. You cannot be both.

Early in season four we get the episode Gang of Secrets. An episode that ends with Marinette outing her secret identity to Alya. A touching moment that sparked outrage across the fandom because it meant that Marinette had made the choice to reveal her identity to her best friend while keeping her hero partner in the dark.

This choice spat in the face of the exceptions that many fans had for the series. Thousands of pre-season-four fanfics feature moments where Ladybug and Chat Noir promise each other that they'll be the first to know each other's identities. After the Alya reveal, scores of fanfics were written to salt on Marinette's choice to tell the "wrong" person.

Most of these fics feature a betrayed Chat Noir quitting or otherwise punishing Ladybug for breaking their promise to be each other's first, thereby destroying his faith in their partnership. But that promise was never made on screen. It only existed in the realms of fanfic and, when Chat Noir finally found out in canon, his reaction was largely neutral. He never once blamed Ladybug for her choice or pushed for a reveal or even asked for the right to tell one of his friends.

So what happened here? Why did the fans have such wildly unrealistic expectations of canon? Were their expectations even unrealistic or did canon betray them? The answer to that is not as straight forward as you might think because it all comes back to one of Miraculous' many, many, many writing problems: Miraculous is trying to be both a Magical Girl Show and a romantic comedy, but those are not genres that mesh. You can only be one (or you can be a third thing that we'll get to at the end as it's the easiest way to fix this mess, but I want to mostly focus on where the anger is coming from and why the writing is to blame.)

To discuss this mismatch, we're going to do something that breaks my heart and talk about some of Origins flaws. While I love that episode and unironically refer to it as the best writing the show ever gave us, it's not perfect and its flaws are all focused around trying to set up both genres. Do note that I'm going to use a lot of gender binary language here as magical girl shows have a strong focus on gender segregation and rarely if ever acknowledge gender diversity.

Let's Talk Magical Girls

Magical girl shows are shows that center on young women and their friendships. While male love interests are often present in these shows, the boys tend to take a backseat and function primarily as arm candy while the girls save the day and carry the narrative.

A great example of this is the show Winx Club. This show features a large cast of teenage girls who save the magical universe from various threats with their magical powers. Each girl has a love interest, but the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship. I don't even think that we see the guys fight or, if we do, it's a rare thing. They are not there to save the day. They are there to be shipping fodder.

Like most magical girl shows, Winx Club starts with the main character making friends with one of the girls who will eventually become part of her magical girl squad. This brings us back to Miraculous.

Did you ever find it weird that Origins implies that Marinette has no friends? She doesn't even have a backbone until new girl Alya shows up to become Marinette's First Real Friend:

Marinette: I so wish I can handle Chloé the way you do. Alya: You mean the way Majestia does it. She says all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good people do nothing. (pointing at Chloé) Well, that girl over there is evil, and we are the good people. We can't let her get away with it.

This is a bizarre opening because Miraculous is not about Marinette making friends or learning to stand up for herself. If you skipped Origins and just watched the rest of the show, then you'd have no clue that Marinette wasn't close with her classmates before this year. You also wouldn't know that Alya was new in town and you definitely wouldn't know that Marinette had never stood up to Chloé before this year. So why is this here? Why waste screen time setting up elements that aren't actually important to canon?

Miraculous did it for the same reason that Winx Club did it: magical girl shows traditionally start with the main character making friends with at least one of her eventual female teammates because Magical Girl shows are all about the girls and their relationships. The boys are just arm candy.

But Miraculous isn't a magical girl show. The writers have explicitly stated that it's a rom-com and romantic comedies aren't about female friendship. They might have female friendships in them, but that's not where the focus is. The focus of a rom-com is on the romance and Origins is very clearly all about the romance.

Origins as a Rom-com

Origins has a lot on its plate. It has to establish the villain's motivation for the first time, show us how the heroes got their miraculous, show us how the heroes first met on both sides of the mask, show us how they met their respective best friends, and show us how the heroes dealt with their first akuma. It would be perfectly understandable if this 40 minute two-parter didn't do anything with the romance. They have a full show to give us that!

In spite of this, Origins has some incredibly touching moments for both Ladynoir and Adrienette because romance is the heart of Miraculous. It is the main focus of the show. The driving motivation for both of our leads and the majority of the show's episodes. To tell the story of how their journey started without at least one of them falling in love would feel wrong. That's why we see both of them fall in love!

First we get Chat Noir giving his heart to his bold and brilliant lady, then we get Marinette's heart being stolen by the shy sweet boy who never once thought to blame her for her snap judgement of his character. We even get a touching moment where Chat Noir inspires his lady to accept her role and be Ladybug, leading her to boldly face their enemy and call him out:

Roger: I have a new plan, unlike you! Move aside and let the pros do their thing. You've already failed once! Ladybug: …He's right, you know. If I'd captured Stoneheart's akuma the first time around, none of this would have happened! I knew I wasn't the right one for this job… Cat Noir: No. He's wrong, because without you, she'd no longer be here. (they look at Chloe) And because without us, they won't make it, and we'll prove that to 'em. Trust me on this. Okay? Ladybug: Okay.

I love this moment, but it does lose a little of its power when you remember that we had an Alya-driven variation of this exact same thing five minutes prior:

Alya: HELP!! (Marinette suddenly gets filled with courage. She gets the case out of Alya's bag and puts on the Miraculous. Then, Tikki appears, happy to see Marinette again.) Tikki:(raising her arms) Mmmm! Marinette: I think I need Ladybug! Tikki: I knew you'd come around! Marinette: Well, I'm still not sure I'm up for this, but Alya's in danger. I can't sit back and do nothing.

This scene initially confused me because - if Miraculous is a rom-com - then why would you make Alya the reason that Marinette became Ladybug? Why wouldn't you have Chat Noir be the one in danger so that Marinette chose to fight because of her love interest and then encourage that bond with the later scene of him encouraging her? Why split the focus like this? Why give Alya so much attention?

In case you haven't figured it out, it's because Origins is trying to establish two different genres of show. Two genres that will continue to fight for the rest of the series (or at least the first five seasons).

Magical Girls Vs Rom-com

Why is Alya the one to shake off the nightmare dust and inspire the others during the season five finale? Why is Alya the one that Marinette trusts with all of her plans while Chat Noir is kept in the dark? Why does Alya and Marinette's friendship get so much more focus than Adrien and Nino's? Why was Alya the only temp hero who got upgraded to full time hero?

It's because Alya is Marinette's second in command in a magical girl show and magical girl shows focus on female friendships while the boys are just there to be cute and support the girls.

Why do most of Marinette's talks with Alya focus on Adrien? Why is Chat Noir the only other full time holder of a Miraculous for the first three seasons and then again for the final season? Why do Marinette's friends become more and more obsessed with Adrienentte as the show goes on? Why is the love square's identity reveal given so much more narrative weight than any other identity reveal?

It's because Miraculous is a rom-com and the love square is our end game couple, so of course the story focuses on their relationship above all else!

Are you starting to see the problem?

Circling back to our original question: no, it was not unreasonable for the fans to expect that the Alya reveal would have massive negative consequences for Ladynoir. That is what should happen in a rom-com and Miraculous is mainly written like a rom-com. But the writers are also trying to write a magical girl show and, in a magical girl show, Alya and Marinette's friendship should be the most important relationship in the show, so it makes perfect sense that the show treats the Alya reveal as perfectly fine because the Alya reveal was written from the magical girl show perspective.

When it comes to Miraculous, if you ever feel like a writing choice makes no sense for genre A, re-frame it as a thing from genre B and it suddenly makes perfect sense which is fascinatingly terrible writing! It's no wonder there are people who hate the Alya reveal and people who will defend it with their life. It all depends on which genre elements you've picked up on and clung to. Neither side is right, they've both been set up to have perfectly valid expectations. Whether those expectations are valid for a given episode is entirely up to the mercurial whims of the writers!

How Do We Fix This Mess

At this point, I don't think that we can, the show is too far gone, but if someone gave me the power to change one element of Miraculous, that element would be this: scrap both the magical girl stuff and the rom-com stuff and turn Miraculous into a team show where the friendships transcend gender.

At this point, I've written over a quarter of a million words of fanfic focused on these characters (the brain rot is real) and one thing I've discovered is that it is damn near impossible to keep Adrien and Alya from becoming friends. They're both new to their school while Marinette and Nino have gone to the same school for at least a few years. Alya and Adrien are both obsessed with Ladybug plus Adrien is a natural hype man who loves to support his friends and Alya loves to talk about her blog. Alya is dating Adrien's best friend. On top of that, Alya, Adrien, Nino, and Marinette are all in the same class, meaning that they pretty much have to be spending time together five days a week unless French school don't give kids a chance to socialize or do group projects. If so, then judging them for the first issue, but super jealous of the latter.

Given all of that, why in the world is does it feel like Alya is Marinette's close friend while Adrien is just some guy who goes to Alya's school? Along similar lines, while canon Marinette barely talks to Nino, I've found that Marinette and Nino tend to get along smashingly, especially if you embrace the fact that they have to have known each other for at least a few years.

If you embrace this wider friendship dynamic and scrap the girl squad, replacing it with Alya, Adrien, Marinette, and Nino, then the fight for narrative importance quickly goes away. It's no longer a question of is this episode trying to be a magical girl show or a rom-com? Instead, the question is: which element of the friend group is getting focused on today? The romance or the friendship?

A lot of hero shows do this and do it well. I think that one of the most well known examples is Teen Titans. That show has five main characters and the focus is usually on their friendships, but there is a very clear running romantic tension between the characters Robin and Starfire with several episodes giving a good deal of focus to their romance. I'd say that this element really starts in the show's the 19th episode - Date with Destiny - and it all culminates in the movie that capstones the series: Trouble in Tokyo. The character Beast Boy also gets a romance arc and, while it's more short lived, it's further evidence that you can have strong romances and strong friendships in the same show and even the same episode. You just have to own the fact that boys and girls can be friends with each other, a very logical thing to embrace when your show has decided to have a diverse cast of heroes instead of imposing arbitrary gender limitations on its magical powers.

I couldn't figure out a way to work this into the main essay, but it's relevant so I wanted to quickly point it out and give you more to think about re Origins. Have you ever found it weird how Origins gives both Adrien AND Marinette the "I've never had friends before" backstory and yet wider canon acts like Marinette has this strong amazing friend group while Adrien doesn't seem to care about making friends and instead focuses all his energy on romance? Why give both the protagonist and the supposed deuteragonist this kind of origin if it's not going to be a major element of the show? It makes so much more sense to only give one of them this backstory and then focus that person's character arc on learning about friendship.

[hargreeves-duncan]

Hey! I saw that you’re taking tua requests and after season 4 I’m in desperate need of fluff fanfics. May I request a Five x Y/N where Y/N looks exactly like how Five envisions Delores but they haven’t met yet and right when Five and Lila were about to kiss in the greenhouse, Y/N appears with a gun because this two strangers invaded her greenhouse and Five would be utterly shocked and immediately let go of Lila and went to Y/N calling her Delores and she would say something like “I don’t know who Delores is but the two of you better start explaining what you’re doing in my greenhouse or I’ll bury a bullet in your skulls.” And after that it could be all fluff with a happy ending. Maybe Five takes her to meet his family when he finds a way back?

a/n: thank you for your lovely request! the idea of reader as a dolores variant is so sweet, i just had to write this! i hope you love it!!

summary: five mistakes you for dolores, you turn out to be quite the opposite

warnings: reader has a gun😟

word count: 2.4k

Trying to traverse this damn subway was driving Five insane. If he had been keeping track accurately, he and Lila had been stuck down here for seven years. For someone that had made it through forty years alone at the end of the world, you’d think that he’d be able to hack it, but a couple of key factors had changed since his first time around.

1. This time he wasn’t alone.

When he’d brought Lila down to the station, the thought of getting stuck there hadn’t even crossed his mind. Every other time Five had visited the subway, he’d made it home with no problems whatsoever.

It was typical that when he was accompanied by the one woman he’d never want to be around for a prolonged amount of time, that the universe would screw him over and trap them there.

He did have to admit, the more time that they had spent together, and the less likely getting home seemed, Lila had become tolerable. He might even go as far as to say he liked her now.

She was smarter than he’d given her credit for and painfully determined in working out their way home. Lila had always kept them both going, insisting that if they’d gotten there in the first place that there had to be a way out. Five wasn’t so sure anymore.

2. Dolores wasn’t here.

Whilst Five could pretend that if he stopped looking for a way out and settled down with Lila in a new timeline he would be happy enough, he knew that in reality, he wouldn’t be. There was no way that his friendship with Lila would ever measure up to the company of Dolores and the love he had for her.

She had been his everything for more of his life than not and his connection with her had truly meant something to him. Unlike whatever circunstancial friendship he had built with Lila.

For a long time, Five’s daily routine had revolved entirely around making sure that Dolores was cared for and making sure that they were always one step closer to finding a better way of life. Because he would be damned if his girlfriend had to live a life with anything but the very best.

This time, without the motivation of holding Dolores in his arms at the end of a long day, Five had found little reason to keep searching for a way to get home. He was beginning to lose all hope entirely as he and Lila had got off the subway for the fiftieth time that day.

As they stepped out into the sun, it became clear that of all the timelines they’d been to, this one was, without a doubt, the most peaceful. They were surrounded by woodland that stretched as far as the eye could see.

Somewhere above their heads Five could hear birds twittering. That was a good sign, this timeline was still habitable, many of the last ones hadn’t been.

Five walked out into forest. The trees there shot up almost 70 feet into the sky. It was breathtaking.

Somewhere along his stroll, Lila, had ended up off course, discovering the new world around them, “Wow.” She whispered to herself.

Five chuckled and raised an eyebrow as he walked towards her, “If you’re done here, there’s something much more interesting that we ought to take a look at.”

He pointed to the bottom of the hill that they stood on, where a small cottage sat. It looked as if it came from a fairytale, with its thatched roof and adjacent greenhouse, that housed all sorts of plants and flowers.

A small seed of doubt planted itself in his head the more he looked it over. It looked too nice. What if it was some sort of trap?

Lila clearly didn’t have the same trepidations. She gasped with excitement, then turned back to him, saying, “What’re you waiting for? Let’s go.”

As suspicious as he now was, he wasn’t strong enough to crush Lila’s hopeful expression. He hadn’t seen her look this spritely in weeks and if this didn’t end up being what they wanted he needed her to be okay to keep going. So, he followed her down the hill.

By the time he’d reached the bottom, Lila was already waiting, hands on her hips as she laughed at him, “Come on, old man, what is taking you so long? I want to explore this cottage before someone comes and tells me that I’m imagining it.”

She reached out, pulling on his arm impatiently and he couldn’t help but smile back at her. He supposed he could entertain this fantasy of normality for a while.

Lila grinned as she led them up the steps, peering in through the glass at the throng of shrubbery packed into the building. With a tug on the door, Lila led them into the greenhouse.

Five had to appreciate the organisation of it. One corner of it hosted a mix of plants and herbs, another held flowers, another for vegetables as well and even one for- “Strawberries!” Lila gasped, dropping his arm and rushing over to them.

In that moment, there couldn’t have been a better sight in the world than home-grown fruit. It’d been a painfully long time since they’d last eaten real food and Five suddenly felt starving.

He watched as Lila picked a strawberry, taking a bite. She groaned in pleasure, closing her eyes. Mouth still full, she beckoned him closer, “Five, come here, you have got to try these.”

Five obeyed, walking over to her. Lila took another enthusiastic bite, as she declared, “I think these might be the best things that I’ve ever eaten.”

Tossing the hull of the strawberry behind her, Lila reached for another. She smirked at Five, waving the strawberry in front of his lips tauntingly, “Open up.”

Five rolled his eyes, trying to repress the smile that was creeping onto his lips as he relented, opening his mouth. Lila pressed the strawberry to his lips and as he bit down…

Click.

Five froze, eyes snapping open. Lila spun around and her lips parted in shock as she took you in. There, you stood, shotgun cocked and pointed at the pair of them.

You were a sight for sore eyes, with your tousled hair around your shoulders and polka dot dress that fell effortlessly around your hips. Five was completely mesmerised.

Your soft hair, the polka dots that covered your dress, it was all so familiar to him. Your presence felt like a greeting from an old friend and he smiled lovingly at you as he said, “Dolores.”

Lila’s presence was entirely forgotten as you stood in front of him, just as beautiful as he’d remembered. Lila raised an eyebrow, asking, “You know her?” at the same time as you asked, “Dolores?!”

You looked them both in the eye, stepping closer and aiming the barrel of the gun at their heads, “I don’t know who Dolores is but the two of you better start explaining before I shoot you both.”

You had to admit, you were slightly intrigued by the appearance of the two of them. More specifically, the man in front of you. Even more so when he audibly laughed at your words.

You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking with amusement as you said, “You do realise that you’re trespassing, right? That I’m well within my rights to pull this trigger and put a bullet through both of your skulls?”

Five was still looking at you as if you’d hung the moon and the stars and not just threatened to shoot him.

Lila shoved her elbow into his chest and he groaned, clutching it, “Jesus… Lila!” He said, glaring at her.

“What?” Lila groaned, looking over at him with a huff, “She asked you a question.”

“Yes, thank you.” You said with a small nod as you watched her. She nodded back with a pleased smile, holding her hands behind her back.

You look back at Five, expectantly, gun still raised, “Well?”

He smiled saccharinely at you, being sure to emphasise his words as he said, “Me and my friend here just got a little lost, that’s all.”

“Hm… getting lost is what we’re calling breaking and entering now?” You challenge and your combative demeanour only made Five want to get to know you more.

He grinned, shrugging his shoulders innocently, “It would appear that way.” He said, making it impossible for you to ignore the cockiness in his tone.

You simply laughed at him, lowering your weapon slightly, “And Dolores?”

“She’s…” He paused, thinking it through. He couldn’t exactly say who Dolores really was, you’d think he was crazy and that was the last thing he wanted.

If he ignored the fact that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, he could also tell that you were exactly the kind of woman he wanted to know and he was not going to mess up any chance he might have with you, “…my ex-girlfriend.”

That wasn’t entirely untrue, he thought to himself. Lila’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Slowly, a look of realisation spread across her face and she stifled her laughter as she asked, “Hold on, you don’t mean that manne-“

“Please, excuse my friend.” He hastily cut Lila off with an infuriated glare thrown in her direction.

“She has terrible conversational etiquette.” Five offered, smiling politely at you as if he hadn’t just completely shut Lila down, “I’m Five, and that over there is Lila.”

You nodded in return. Lila smiled but made no more attempts to initiate a conversation as she wandered off deeper into the green house.

Five, happy to have the chance to speak you alone, stepped closer, “It’s a nice place.” He said, putting his hands in his pockets.

You lowered your gun, slinging it over your shoulder and offering him a warmer smile, “Thanks, I think so too.”

You were funny. He felt himself grow more smitten with every word you said. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, raising an eyebrow at you, “What did you say your name was again?”

“I didn’t.” You answer, brushing off your skirt. His eyes followed your fingers as you did.

You walked by him to pick up a bag of compost and dropped it onto the countertop beside you. Five walked after you, placing a hand on the table in your eyeline, practically begging you to keep the conversation going.

The last time he’d gotten so quickly attached to a girl, he’d been with her for forty years and he was already thinking about what that might look like with you, “Are you going to tell me it?” He pushed, tilting his head to the side as he smiled at you.

You stopped breaking up the soil, laughing softly as you looked over your shoulder at him, “You know, you’re very interested in knowing about me for someone I just caught breaking into my house.”

“I thought we’d agreed that we were just lost? I can confidently say that there was no ill intent on my part.” He replies, smirking at you.

“Maybe not.” You say, smacking your palms against each other to dust them off, “But there is intent of some kind.” You bend down, pulling out an empty plant pot from below the counter.

“True…” Five hummed, tapping his finger on the counter as he watched you place the pot onto the table and begin to fill it with compost.

He looks around the room some more - noticing the lone chair and table in the observatory by the back door, “You live here alone?”

He asked, watching your nimble fingers form a well in the centre of the pot. He looked over his shoulder to where Lila was prodding a venus flytrap and then back to you for your answer.

“I do.” You reply as your fingers continue to press deeper into the soil. Five nodded, rolling his sleeves up and leaning them on the countertop with a sly smile.

You dust off your hands again and go back to kneeling on the floor. Five watches with interest as you sift through pots and packets of different flowers.

“Okay and why is that?” He asks, bending down beside you as you consider which flower to pot.

You look over at him and notice how his eyes lingers on the bright, yellow marigolds tucked away to the left. You take them out.

“Because…” You say, hauling the smaller pot onto the counter again, “I’ve never been much of a people person.”

“Hence why you live in the middle of the woods.” Five nods along, smiling to himself. He was beginning to get an idea of what kind of girl you were and he liked it.

“Exactly.” You nod, gently prying the marigolds from their original pot and settling them into the divet in their new one.

You scooped some compost into your hands, sprinkling the marigold with an extra layer of dirt, “That’s me, but what about you? What makes a guy like you take a wander in the woods?”

A guy like him? Five glanced down at himself, suddenly feeling very self-conscious of his dirtied appearance. He hadn’t looked in a mirror in a while but he couldn’t imagine that seven years without a shower had done him any good.

Then again, your arms were buried elbow deep in dirt right now, so he figured he couldn’t look that awful, “It’s a long story but… simply put, my friend and I are looking for a place to stay.”

“I see.” You hum, touching up the marigolds. You pull open a drawer, taking out some pruners and making tiny adjustments to the flowers.

Five appreciated the precision with which you worked on them, he imagined that you treated all of your plants with the same amount of time and care. He was beginning to feel a little jealous of them.

You tilted your head to the side as you looked back at him, “So, you just thought that you’d crash here?”

Five looked slightly embarrassed as he stood up straighter, searching for the right answer. Lila smiled, yelling from the other side of the room, “Yeah, pretty much. It’s a really nice place.”

You laugh at her bluntness, placing down your pruners and dusting off your hands again, “Good to know.”

Five chuckles and looks back down at the counter. Taking in the sight of the finished marigolds, sitting plump and pretty in their new home, he smiles, “They’re beautiful.”

“Consider them a welcome gift for the two of you.” You say, pushing the pot towards him. Then, you wink, walking past him and back into the house.

Five is rendered speechless.

[cheriladycl01]

Would you be up for writing a fanfic with Lando or Max x reader where reader also races but due to the training and harsh training her team and trainer are putting her through develops an ED (common among competitive sports and I’ve got experience 😭) maybe Reader faints or her bf finds out? No problem if not 😘 love your writing!

Those inward struggles - Max Verstappen x Driver! Reader

Plot: After having to change you diet and do more work after struggling in Singapore you spend a year on strict training away from your boyfriends knowledge. What happens when a year on and people are noticing how much more exhausted your looking after each race.

Warnings: Eating Disorder, Reader Being Sick

Singapore and Qatar 2022 was extremely hard for you. Your body temperature in the car didn't regulate that well and you lost way more weight than any other driver.

You new that the 2023 season was going to be even harder with where the races were placed in the year.

Your physician wanted you to keep the weight off. The lower your body mass, the less you'd struggle with the heat. That was their thought process and that's what they deemed best for you as a woman. So of course, you trusted the team's decisions and you started to train more, and eating in a calorie deficit.

They'd come up with a plan for you to loose a safe amount in a safe amount of time, however it almost felt like a competition and you wanted to be as ready as possible.

At first it was hard, you craved sugar and grease the most but eventually once the majority was out of your system the vegetables and fruits started to taste like when you have a sip of that half stagnant water at 3am when your body decided to lower your thirst bar all the way down.

Max as a driver had also seen how much more you were with your personal trainer, and how it didn't just stop when you got home as you would often be in your home gym.

You'd serve yourself less and meals than him and he noticed these little things. Of course he did, he'd been obsessed with you since he was a 13 year old and both of you met in karting.

You started dating a year before he got into F1 quite literally being the definition of childhood romance. But this did mean that he knew you like the back of his hand.

"Baby, how about a sweet treat?" he asks holding up your fav type of cookie waving it in front of your face.

"I really shouldn't, I think the team wouldn't be happy if they found out I was eating more than i should!" you explain to him, continuing to wash the dishes from earlier that night.

"But... you didn't have much for dinner and you skipped lunch!" he asks remembering what you'd eaten throughout the day.

"Oh? So your keeping tabs on me now?" you ask looking him over with a soft yet teasing frown.

"Well, when your with me for a good portion of the day I notice" he grumbles making you turn your head to him at that tone, it wasn't one he used often.

"Huh?" you say leaving the dishes fully in the sink before placing a hand on your hip.

"Look, It's not just me noticing it but your not healthy right now!" Max offers and you turn back round to do the washing up.

Your trainer said you might feel a little tired and icky while you were on such a strict diet but once you'd got to your goal weight you'd feel better.

"Please just eat the cookie!" he smiles and you roll your eyes. You take the cookie and finish it off under his watchful eye. It tasted so good, but you almost gagged at how heavy the chocolate felt at the back of your throat and how you could feel the chunkiness of the chewed batter.

There wasn't that fresh aftertaste you been getting recently from the various fruits and veges you'd been relying on to get you eating something.

You gagged at something that used to be a delicacy too you, something that would excite you. However you finished it off to please Max. Once he was satisfied you had your filling he explained he was going out to a set with Lando, Daniel and Charles.

You'd already said you wanted to stay home today.

The minute he was out the door you were in the bathroom getting the sugary sweet treat out of your body, feeling disgusting from having had it.

The guilt was eating away at you the minute you had it, you knew just how unhappy the trainer would be. You spent the rest of the evening in the gym, weighing yourself before and after the session.

To your dismay there was no improvement and you sat in the gym crying over you predicament.

It was time for the 2023 Qatar Grand Prix, you were already struggling just walking round the paddock in the areas that didn't have aircon. When you'd done your track walk, you could feel the damp sweat on areas of your body you didn't know was possible.

However, you pushed and pushed yourself through the whole weekend, you drunk lots of water and made sure to keep up with the exercising and kept eating to a minimum.

When you'd got in the car for the first practice your hard work seemed to pay of, coming P4. Again in qualifying you'd had a fastest lap in Q2 and split the Mercedes up Q3 coming P3 behind Max and George. Both of these weren't too bad, it was in short bursts that didn't make you too hot.

However as the weekend moved forward, it was obvious to your team, to Max and to the media that you were becoming more and more exhausted. A lot of people noted that your tailored race suit was starting to bag in places it shouldn't and that you had sunken areas on your face, making you look all the more exhausted.

The Sprint shootout was awful, you placing 9th fastest overall, which compared to your earlier racing was no good for you or your team.

You only managed to move up one place to P8 in the Sprint, meaning you were in the points but you were taken to the medical tent after reporting feeling dizzy and your sight spotting.

Max had headed over to the Aston Martin garage asking for you, all the mechanics just saying you were still with medical. He rushed over, quicker than his car on a flying lap as no-body actually knew what was wrong with you.

"Y/N?" you'd heard as he'd come storming in looking around for you.

"I'm in here!" you said and he came over taking your hand in his.

"What's going on, what's wrong?" he asks looking over you.

"Nothing, just had a bit of a migraine. Apparently not enough water!" you lie, knowing the doctors were still doing tests but they said you were free to leave.

You'd left, he'd comforted you at the hotel making sure you had everything you could possibly need before you both slept away the tire of the day.

Sunday of course was a shit show. Medical still hadn't fully worked out what was wrong with you and they were debating pulling you from the race. You'd refused saying you were fine to race.

You were 20 laps in when your vision started to blur until ringing in your head occurred.

You tried to keep up with the fluids from your drinks tube but they were just heating up along with everything else in the car.

"Y/N are you okay. Medical have just deemed you should be racing. We want to retire you" your engineer comes through at lap 50.

"7 more laps, I'll be fine" you groan. You'd managed to stick to P4 for the majority of the race. But now that vision in your left eye was pretty poor you were taking turns a little more hesitantly meaning you were down in P6.

You defended from Ocon like your life depended on it, and finally pulled up to the area where the cars sit when the race it over. You sit in the car, in silence trying to get your vision back and stop shaking.

You body ran cold, you were shivering now and could feel the cold sweat in your suit, you wanted to reach up and take your helmet off more than anything but your arms didn't obey.

So you just sat there, until some Aston Martin mechanics came through with water. They helped you out and up handing you a bottle of water. But with the ringing not having stopped your vision completely went as you fell back onto the hard ground of the track.

Max once he'd found out his team and your team and pretty much everyone had kept you fainting from him a secret he had yelled, a lot, at anyone and everyone he could.

Even Lando and Oscar in the cool down room had to be at the receiving end of his wrath.

After his podium that he had tried to make as quick as possible he was right with you. Yelling at everyone while making sure you were getting the correct medical attention.

When he found out the reason behind you fainting and the fact that you drove the last few laps half sighted he was back to MAD MAX, and oh boy it wasn't a pretty sight.

He couldn't believe your team who were supposed to make sure you were in the best health had actually been hindering you and not helping you.

To say the he and Rupert his own personal trainer would be taking over from now on and he'd be hiring a private nutritionist to get you back on track to your starting F1 weight in 2022.

He loved you and would do anything for you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

[wonderfull-star]

I so wish more people would talk about Hazel and Dev reuniting in season 2. And how she, Winn and Jasmine try to mend fences with Dev again. And how the four of them become a team, getting into various adventures. It would be great if in one episode Dev was the one who saved everyone. It would be also great for his redemption arc. I don’t know, but I just don’t see Peri and Dev getting back together. At least not this early. I’m sure after the final episode Peri will be thinking clearly about something else. That is, about how this job wasn’t for him after all and he’ll try to find something different. And the fact that Dev stays with Dale isn’t such a tragedy as some people describe in fanfiction. Dale is certainly a bad father, but not to the point where it would threaten Dev. So to think that after the finale Peri will worry about Dev when his career (and even life) is going downhill is pretty stupid. Well, yes, he is now (f)unemployed ✨Who else to think about if not Dev 😒

I think that Hazel, her family and friends will be given more attention. Hazel will not make such big wishes for a while, but only certain small needs. While Cosmo and Wanda will spend more time at home. Perhaps we will even be shown more of what the house itself looks like, as well as what the other rooms look like. Probably there will even be a separate episode about this, where Hazel and her friends decide to explore Cosmo and Wanda’s house, discovering more and more secrets. So I think that at least at the beginning of the 2nd season Peri will not have much screen time. Perhaps we will be shown time with him for a few seconds and only by the 5th-10th episode he may be given his screen time (possibly related to his problem with choosing a career). There is also an option that until the middle of the 2nd season Peri will "disappear" in order to show him later at the most unexpected moment. So that everyone has intrigue.

For me, this whole "Dev and Peri reunion" thing is way overrated. Fanfics mostly only include this topic and have become painfully monotonous. And that's not even counting the typical cliches many give to characters that sometimes aren't even in the show itself. If you take only such fanfics, then usually there are: "Dale is a bad person and a bad father" - "Peri is of course the only one who understands this and tries to find a way to help Dev" - "Dev is rude and cold most of the time" - "Peri follows Dev like a tail" - "Later, Dev notices Peri's efforts and apologizes to him” - “Good ending”.

I have nothing against these fanfics and especially those who wrote them. I'm just wondering why so many people write mainly on this topic. And I cited the main cliche from what I once read before (of course, I will not read ALL such fanfics. Since I don’t like fanfics on this topic anymore).

That's why I SO want Hazel and Dev to reunite. Dev still needs to recover from what happened. He might not even go to school for a while. And if Dev does come to school one day, Hazel will probably be the first one to interact with him (as a parallel to episode 1 of season 1). I imagine how after everything that happened, Dev will become more quiet and withdrawn. And Hazel will be the one who will try to improve his condition over time by starting to be friends with him like they used to be. And over time, Winn and Jasmine will start to be friends with Dev too.

[gorgeousgust]

I HAVE NO HEART. (NI WEH SESH) -K.B

Pairings: (Kaz Brekker x heartrender!reader)

A/N: Hello beautiful people! This fiction is based off clearly the season two, episode six from the Shadow & Bone series. There are some exact quotes from the episode because for the plot of the storyline. As a reminder, I don’t own Y/N and other characters and all rights go to beautiful Leigh Bardugo… I just love the write fanfics! Anyways, this is the only way I would write touching scenes with Kaz. And I loved watching that episode, it was amazing. The way the actors played very well… And I thought why wouldn’t Y/N be in it? Hope you enjoy it! Have a nice reading!

Word Count: 4.540

Warnings: Violence, poison, and no hates to Zoya, I love her but in the story, it is a bit different.

“There is something in the air!” Tolya said it with a haze of a worry. As all of you looked at the ceiling, you saw a red powder spreading across the room. “This is how we die?” Jesper exclaimed anxiously.

Suddenly a strong cough filled your throat. Your lungs were filling with the poisonous powder, when you turned your head to your side, you saw Jesper as he blacked out and collapsed into the floor. As you backed away, still coughing like the others, you leaned on the ground and put your hands on your heart.

As Tolya and you shared a glance, both of you were stabilizing your heartbeats. You glanced to Inej as she passed out and a loud thump came out from Kaz, as you looked at him he fell on the floor harshly. You feared that this moment might be all of your death.

-

The Slat was quiet unusually. You scoot over from Nina’s side and sit down on the high chair. You were eating some breakfast, as you felt growling inside your empty stomach.

While you were eating, two person came inside to the Slat. As you looked at them, the man had a strong physique and wore off-shoulder leather coat. He looked mighty. As you turned to the girl he was with, she looked oddly familiar. Had dark brown eyes match with her dark brown hairs. Her expressions were cold and still. While the guy looked rather cheerful. He was a Shu also. Then as you examined the girl further you realized it was Zoya. Zoya Nazyalensky.

As they beelined to the Kaz’s office, you exchanged a look with Nina. “Why is Zoya doing in here?” She asked confused. “I have no idea.” You looked confused too, but you waited patiently for Kaz to come to the table you and Nina sat.

After several minutes, Kaz walked downstairs following with Zoya and that Shu guy. As they walked to the table you two were sitting, Kaz informed briefly why they were here. The Shu man, introduced himself as you learned his name was Tolya, he explained further about why they wanted your assistance on this plan.

As you listened patiently, Nina spat in disbelief. “The Neshyenyer? Sankta Neyar's blade?” Zoya looked at her reproachful. “So, you haven't forgotten what you were taught at the Little Palace.” She said teasingly. “Just your loyalty to Ravka.“ She turned to her glances to you too while she was talking with Nina.

You haven’t bothered to answer her as Nina jumped in. “Ravka? Or Kirigan? It didn't take him destroying a city for me to question my loyalty.“ She said a little louder.

As Jesper intervened to ask the payment, Tolya answered and Zoya explained further for Nina’s questions.

After Kaz finished the conversation with an agreement, you looked at Kaz briefly then turned your attention back to Zoya while she eyed you with a straight expression.

That was it, a new business, going to help the sun summoner to destroying the fold, in return got a paycheck of thousands of kruges. You went to your own room and packed a small bag for your tools. As Kaz secured your passports, you went to meet them outside the Slat.

It was going to be an extremely dangerous quest. A difficult one, you were feeling it.

Before all of this happened, you were a heartrender, learning to control your abilities and studying small science in Little Palace. As soon as you were studying and under commands of General Kirigan, you realized that this place is degenerated.

You were friends with Nina, back then. As you two were both heartrenders, she was like a big sister for you. She supported you through everything you dealt about the Little Palace.

One day, you decided to tell her your plans. You were going to escape the Palace, you relied on Nina so much that you were so sure about that she wasn’t going to turn you in, as you went to her, you realized she was also making her escape plan too.

You two escaped the palace but unfortunately you grew apart as you found yourself in Ketterdam your dock sailed in. As that time, you and Kaz’s paths crossed. He found who you were and what was your abilities, then he offered you a salaried position. Because you were useful. Also, you needed money so you agreed his offer and worked for him.

After everything happened and your way’s crossed again with Nina, you were more than happy to see a friend.

As all of you finally docked in Shu Han, you looked at the crowd. The place looked beautiful. The crowd wore nice and unique clothes, the bazaar looked lively and relaxed, you turned to your head to Tolya as he lowered onto his knees, there was a thin candle in his hand as he looked at the statue decored with flowers and fruits. He was speaking in Shu language as you watched him.

You were standing next to Kaz and Wylan. Watching the scene as Inej lowered to her knees next to him, praying to herself. While Zoya and Nina did the same. As they began to speak to each other, you gazed through the colored fibers. It was too noise-full and the crowd looked messy.

Then Tolya got up and walked to where you all stood. There were flutes playing through. “Just so you know, it's bad luck not to honor the dead during Suntsa Sar.” He said it as he was eating walnuts and turned his gaze to the statue. Kaz side eyed the man as he was standing and looked pissed. Jesper scoffed and looked at Tolya.

“If I believed in luck, I'd be in less debt.“ Jesper said and you turned your gaze to Tolya. Kaz turned his face to his side and looked at Tolya coldy. He then said, “And I’m more concerned with the living.” You smirked to yourself hearing Kaz’s words. Always has a remark, you thought to yourself.

After Kaz said the tea shop should be open by now, he reviewed the plan one more time. Inside of your mind, deeply, you wanted to take Nina’s role. Pretending to be Kaz’s wife, for a brief selfish moment you wanted to feel it.

He wasn’t sentimental, how could he? If you are living in the Barrel you can’t have those ‘weak sentiments’ Kaz said always. It was a cruel joke to you, because you loved that man.

Over the time as your acquaintanceship bloomed into a friendship, you caught feelings for the very man who deprived himself from it. Despite he was denying the little feelings he has, you heard his heart.

After you two become friends, it wasn’t confirmed by him but it was there, you understood it, you subconsciously let yourself hear his heartbeat. It was impossible to not hear it. Whenever you met his dark eyes, you felt the heartbeats of his paced faster.

Or whenever he was in his office, writing things on papers or reading some books and planning heists, listening his heartbeat calmed your heart too.

But there were ups and downs. Whenever someone mentioned Pekka Rollins’s name or the nightmares he was having, you were the only one who knew about it, you heard his heartbeat got extremely fast which was worried you so much.

You wanted to help him, at those moments when you were near to him, those anxious feelings eased after seconds. He knew it was your doing. He never confronted you about it but sometimes it really did help him. You two never talked about any of this but Kaz was in fact, grateful.

They say the eyes are the mirror of the heart, maybe Kaz hid his true views by training himself but his heart was never hiding himself to you.

But most of the time, he hated it. How you can able to hear his heartbeat, his pulse, it was giving him away to you, he wanted to keep the disguise. Because disguise is always a self portrait.

Nina was pretending to be his wife, Inej was on the roofs for following Ohval and you were left to stuck with Zoya.

-

After what happened in that tea shop, all of you sat into a place and talked about what happened. Kaz explained about how Ohval was the Disciple and Nina said how she was able to control her own heartbeat. Kaz explained further.

Then Kaz began to explain the plan. He glanced at Nina briefly. “While she's out of the house, Nina will tail her to make sure she stays out of the house.“ Then she looked at you for a moment. “The rest of us will grab the blade. “ He said.

Zoya intervened in quickly and looked at Kaz with an annoyed expression. “You don't seriously expect me to break into this woman's house.“ Jesper looked at her unbelievably then he joined the conversation. Uh, why do you think we're here?“ He said it confusedly.

Zoya looked at Jesper, “I'm a soldier, not a thief. Why else would I need you criminals?” She said it with an arrogance in her face visible.

You looked at her as you rolled your eyes. “Well, sorry to disappoint you Zoya but there is not much of a difference between them than you think.” You looked at her with coldness as Nina chuckled to ease the tension. “Says the girl who ran away from her country.” Zoya said as you were about to reply back to her, Zoya turned to Kaz. “I’ll go with Nina.”

Nina coughed while she was eating some walnuts. “Are you sure you don’t need me?” She said to Kaz. “I mean, Zoya can tail Ohval.” You watched Nina as you grinned. Kaz was done with the silly arguments you two had with Zoya. “Nina and Zoya will wait for Ohval at the apothecary. Follow her. If she starts heading home, buy us some time. Distract her.” With that Kaz put an end into that conversation, again.

-

Now it was the time for the plan. You and the others walked to the outside of Ohval’s house. The building looked very much traditional, as you were thinking like that, Tolya voiced your thought. You looked briefly at Kaz. You were wondering what he was thinking.

As Jesper approached to Wylan’s side, you heard a faint heartbeat. Tolya must’ve heard it too, he and you shared a glance. He said there was a faint heartbeat and you agreed.

When the doors opened you, Kaz, Inej, Tolya and Jesper entered inside whilst Wylan was standing outside for all of you. As you heard a click sound, you turned to your back and look at the door.

Inej and Tolya both tried to open the door with their hands after it was no use, they kicked the door and it was useless. You heard a groan from them. Then as Inej tried to stabbed the wallpaper but it was no use, it was impenetrable and then you looked at Kaz. “Kaz what do we do?” You whispered to him.

Kaz, as he clanged his cane into the door he looked at you then Jesper. “The frames are made of metal.” As he said it Jesper looked relieved for a moment. “They are Durast made.”

As you heard another click sound, “There is something in the air!” Tolya said it with a haze of a worry.

-

You tried, you tried too hard to stay awake. You were yelling Wylan’s name but it was no use, it felt like your voice sounded mere whisper. You looked at Tolya which he tried to also yell for Wylan.

Then as you turned your glance towards Kaz and saw him laying there unconsciously, your vision got blurred and the next thing you felt the dizziness and the pain in your head.

You found yourself back in the Crow Club. You looked around… it was empty. There were no heartbeats you could feel. A slight worry took you over as you hurriedly walked to Kaz’s office.

You opened it without knocking. When you entered the inside of his office, there was only a dim light, lightening his desk.

“Hello, Y/N.” You heard Kaz’s crooked voice. How could that be possible? You haven’t heard his heartbeat and you still couldn’t. “Kaz?” You looked at him as your eyebrows furrowed. He was wearing a white shirt, very unusual for him.. He would only wear black outfits. He looked too angelic to be true, as you drank his appearance.

His faint skin looked brighter as he wore white shirt, his hair disheveled and his gloves… As he approached to your side, he was slowly getting rid of his gloves. “What are you doing?” You whispered worriedly. You knew he had an aversion to touch and you felt anxious as he was taking his gloves off.

“Can I?” He was asking for your consent to touch you, as his hand raised to side of your cheek, you didn’t understand what was happening but before your mind could protest, the feelings inside of you thought different. “Yes.” You found yourself saying.

Kaz’s hand slowly caressed your cheek and you closed your eyes for a brief moment. It was so strange yet so familiar to you, feeling his touch, it was a feeling that you wanted to bottle and drink away.

Then you opened your eyes and looked at him. His gaze never left yours as you looked at him. “I… want you, Y/N.” As your bodies pressed together, you looked at him with tears forming in your eyes.

“Kaz…” You whispered softly. “I, I-“ You felt shattered as his nose touched with yours. You closed your eyes and felt your lips be touched by his. It blossomed flowers inside your chest as you felt the foreign feeling. It was new but something happened through the haze of love, you coughed.

You looked at him as your eyebrows crossed in a confused glance. “You are not Kaz.” You said as you looked at your environment. This place wasn’t his office anymore, suddenly you found yourself in Little Palace, in Kirigan’s room. “How’s my little heartrender doing?” Kirigan said it smoothly as he looked at you devilishly. “What is happening?” You sounded afraid.

He then approached to your side. “Did you miss me, Y/N?” He smirked. Then he grabbed your hand. “Let go of me!” You resisted but it was no use, he was strong and you became that girl. That little girl who was yanked away from their family and trapped in Kirigan’s arms. “You cannot escape from me, Y/N, you know it.”

You tried to yank your hand away from him. To use your heartrender abilities to get him down but it was no use. “Maybe, you want this huh?” He looked at you as feelings of betrayal crossed his eyes. Then he let go of you and pulled his hand in the air as Kaz appeared in the door. “I’m going to destroy him!” Kirigan said.

“No!” You yelled as the time you put your hands up and waved it in the air, Kirigan’s shadow cut already killed Kaz, you were late.

“Y/N!”

You heard a voice.

“Y/N! Come on, wake up!”

-

Inej was the first one to wake up from the nightmare of the poison, she could able to reach Wylan and as Wylan could explode a small hole in the wall, he gave Inej butterflies.

Inej, as she ate the butterfly as Wylan said it, she felt disgusted. Nearly she was going to throw up however after a few seconds, she felt better. “Wylan..” She whimpered. “We need four more.” She said it in pain.

Inej put the butterfly in Tolya’s mouth as she forcefully made him chew the butterfly. As Tolya woke up with a disgusting taste in his mouth, Inej went to Wylan’s side and took one more butterfly from him.

Then she gave it to Tolya. “Tolya, Jesper. Put it in his mouth.” As Inej said it, she went away and took one more butterfly from Wylan’s hand.

She hurriedly scoot over the Y/N’s side and opened her mouth with her hand. “Come on, Y/N, eat.” As she forcefully tried to made her eat the butterfly, “Y/N, Come on, wake up!” Inej yelled and tears formed in her eyes, after several seconds, you woke up and met Inej’s face. “Inej?” You looked at her confused and you turned your gaze to the room.

You weren’t there inside the Little Palace, it was the poison. Then Inej got up from your side and took the last butterfly and approached to the Kaz’s side, as your eyes followed Inej, she forcefully tried to put the butterfly into Kaz’s mouth, but it was no use.

Something was keeping him from there and he was too tense to eat the butterfly. You looked at Kaz as tears brimmed in your eyes, you closed your eyes for a second as you remembered the cut, you opened and rushed to Inej. “Let me try,” You said desperately.

When Inej gave you the butterfly, you looked at Kaz’s closed eyes. “Don’t leave me, please.” You whispered to yourself. You opened Kaz’s mouth and tried to make him eat the butterfly, it was hard and he was struggling to eat it. “Kaz, Come on!” Your voice was dangerously loud as a tears dropped from your eyes. “I’m not gonna lose you, not today!”

You yelled to him as you tried to make him eat the butterfly.

-

“Who are you without your vengeance?” Jordie screamed at Kaz as his face looked too pale and there were inflammation marks all over Jordie’s face. “What is the worth of life if you have no one left to fight for?” Jordie said it with sadness, after completing his sentence the anger inside of him came back and his eyes light up with fire.

He drowned Kaz into the water again and Kaz’s felt the utter pain inside his body all over again. The feeling of his lungs feeling with water, utterly panicked him.

Then he heard a voice. It was not Jordie’s. Muffled but not his. It was a girl voice. “Kaz, come on!” She yelled, then as the hands pulled him back, he looked at the very face of Y/N.

The way her eyes looked too worried for him, the way her touch calmed his heart and as the way she pulled him, he looked so relieved to see her.

“Kaz, I’m so sorry,” She said as Kaz’s eyes opened. For a moment, Kaz didn’t feel Y/N’s touch on his face as his eyes met with hers, a sincere relief could be seen by anyone.

But Kaz remembered. The feeling of wet dead bodies flashed into his mind and suddenly he struggled under Y/N’s touch, Y/N hurriedly backed away from him and closed her eyes.

“Is anyone alive?” You heard Wylan’s worried voice. After Tolya and Inej briefly talked, you got up and avoided to look at Kaz. His back was turned from all of you. You got up slowly and looked at Inej. “Did anyone else get lulled into a comforting sense of joy?” Jesper said as his voice cracked, his eyes got teary.

“I didn’t see anything.” Kaz said it coldly as you looked at him. He breathed heavily then Inej briefly glanced at him. “Neither did I.” You didn’t comment on what you saw, you just dodged the question.

“Alright, what’s the plan?” Tolya said.

-

After Kaz came up with a plan, Ohval walked in and all of you laid down and pretend to be unconscious. She opened the door and looked at all of you. Inej, was on the ceiling and she landed silently. While she was about to pull her knife, Ohval kicked her to the backyard.

Inej got up and pulled her knives. She threw them into Ohval but as Ohval put her hand up, she pushed the knives to the ground. Inej looked at Ohval with a terrified look.

Then all of you got up from the ground. Tolya, Jesper and you hurriedly ran to the backyard as Kaz went inside of the house. Inej threw several knives into Ohval but she was too quick to dodge Inej’s knives.

As Tolya, you and Jesper went to Inej’s side, Jesper and Tolya raised his gun to Ohval, you put your hands up waiting.

Ohval threw Tolya’s gun only a movement of her hand, then she looked at Jesper and warped Jesper’s guns.

When you saw what happened, you curled your hands and showed it to Ohval. Trying to slower her heartbeat into a dangerous rhythm. Tolya also raised his hands to join you but Ohval raised her hands and pulled all the knives in Inej’s waistcoat. She turned the weapons into your way.

It was too quick.

Tolya grunts, all of you dodged the knives. “Seriously offside.” Jesper said as he was very pissed about Ohval’s movements. She threw her hair accessory to Jesper’s neck as she tried to chock him with it. Tolya approached to Ohval’s side and he pulled a punch towards her but she defended herself too quickly. She punched Tolya’s arm while Inej also did a counter on Ohval. Ohval pulled away from Inej’s fist and turned to both of them.

As both Tolya and Inej tried to takedown Ohval, Jesper was still trying to not choke. You raised your hands quickly and curled it to target Ohval. As you were trying to air out of her lungs, she quickly punched both of them to the ground and raised her hands to you.

The next minute you knew, you were choking from loss of air, inside of your lungs. Your vision got blurry, Tolya and Inej looked at you briefly then they attacked Ohval again. As you felt ease, you breathe again. It was deep and, you were hurting.

But she was too strong. She kicked Tolya down and Inej threw her kick into hers but Ohval took her leg and threw her to the wall. You got up and tried to punch Ohval but she quickly dodged the punch and kicked you to the ground.

Inej took her knife as Ohval took one of hers. She tried to stab Inej but, Inej was able to dodge them. As she fought back to Ohval, it was no use. Ohval took her down and tried to stab the knife into Inej’s chest. She was resisting but she couldn’t hold it forever.

Tolya got up slowly as he begged for Inej’s life.

Then suddenly there was an explosion.

Zoya, Wylan and Nina came in just in time. Zoya curled her hands up and hit it Ohval with it. Ohval fell on the ground as all of you got up and and looked at Ohval.

You and Nina were giving Ohval a hard time. You two were trying to stop her heartbeat. But she was powerful, as she moved her hands to the side, all of you chocked.

Zoya gasped and all of you fell down with a movement of Ohval. “This is taking longer than I’d like… Perhaps, we end it.” Ohval said with a harshness in her voice. As she curled her hands, you felt your heart quickened. Your organs were hurting and your vision got blurry. You can only feel the pain and fear. You tried to resist it but she was too powerful.

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Ohval said with a smirk. “The amount of trace metal there is in the body. Iron, for instance in the blood.”

As she was killing all of you, the sound of an old man came into the backyard. Ohval put her hands down as she released all of you.

You slowly got up from the ground, you saw Kaz. You felt shocked as you heard from Kaz that the Disciple was the man, not her.

Kaz smirked as he looked at Ohval. When the man in chair revealed he stole the Neshyenyer for her and that it belonged to her in the first place, Jesper stepped in. “I’m sorry did you say she made it?” he said.

As the older man got off from the chair and approached to her, he was telling about how she made it. Then Tolya smiled and completed his words.

He chuckled softly. “And it was named Neshyenyer, ‘Relentless.’” He then fell into his knees. “We are honored to be in your presence, Sankta Neyar.” He said as all of you, expect Kaz, fell into your knees for her. “Sankta Neyar?” Inej said surprisingly.

-

After Jesper took the blade from Sankta Neyar’s house, all of you walked off from her house. It was early hours of morning as the sun appeared in the sky, you took a fresh air into your lungs.

As Jesper was with Wylan, he was kissing him. While Nina, Zoya and Tolya walked away from the house. You, Inej and Kaz walked away too. As you squeezed gently Inej’s arm, Kaz looked at both of you.

Inej then turned her head to Kaz. She smiled softly and looked at you. “I’m gonna check in Jesper.” She squeezed your hand and walked away from the two of you.

You and Kaz walked silently as Inej left your side. After a minute of silence, Kaz broke it. “You never told, what you saw.” You looked at him in a shocked expression. You didn’t expect him to remember it.

“You didn’t see anything, maybe I didn’t see too.” You answered it as you tried to brush it off. But then Kaz stopped in his tracks and turned his body to you. “Maybe I did see something, through the haze of poison.” He admitted as when you hear his heartbeat, it got quicken. You looked at him deeply.

“There are those who drown us, and those who pull us out.” He looked at you deeply as he said these words. You felt blush crept into your cheeks as you watched him. For a brief moment you closed your eyes. “Maybe I did see something too.” You revealed weakly.

He looked at you with a visible concern in his face. “What did your toxin trip reveal to you?” He said it curiously. You then opened your eyes and felt tears in your eyes. Kaz’s eyebrows furrowed and you smiled softly. “My reason to live and my biggest nightmare. All in the same place.”

The reason you live because of Kaz.

The biggest nightmare was Kaz’s death.

Kaz looked at you, for a brief moment his eyes soften because of the tears in your eyes. “But it doesn’t matter, now, we are alive.” You said softly and turned your body and looked at the sky. Kaz, watched your face as you looked at the sky.

He saw living saints but none of them mattered to him. The only saint he believed in was standing next to him. The only one to be there for him through his nightmares and everything.

He would become a better man for her. He would be a better man, for her.

[sunnybunnyy2]

Morning pick-me-up

Rosita Espinosa x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut, fingering, oral(Rosita receiving), girl x girl, kissing, might be swearing, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of Abe’s death, Subish Rosita

Word count: 2.3k

Setting: Season 9 time-skip

AN: this is my first smut and obviously my first girlxgirl fanfic. I decided to try it out because I am making a fanfic on Wattpad and Rosita is one of the love interests so I wanted to get into the vibe of her, and also the lack of fanfics in this fandom is criminal. I have never done this in real life if you couldn’t tell by the writing :/

Your eyes were glued to the bowl in front of you as you used a metal fork to whisk the eggs into scrabbled form.

Eggs that were being laid by the many chickens at Hiltop were beginning to get fewer and fewer in the crates the communities had been trading.

Ever since Rick's demise Michonne had been closing herself off from the other communities which meant they weren’t just losing touch with friends but with resources that could help make Alexandria a better place.

You could sympathize with her. You really could. She had lost the man she loved when she was pregnant, leaving her to not only raise Judith by herself but her unborn child.

That child, RJ, had been a part of Alexandria for nearly a year and a half. But Michonne’s wounds were still sore after an old friend of hers kidnapped Judith and half a dozen other children from the place they thought were safest.

Your fear of another threat outweighed your desire to hang out with your other friends. You could not deal with another saviour's war. Not after what it had done to your girlfriend.

Rosita was left broken after the death of her ex-boyfriend, Abraham. She had confided in you that it wasn’t over the fact that she still loved him, she knew their love wasn’t true; it was because of convenience. She had just been drowning in guilt after the way their last conversation had gone, but with the war long over peace filled the air of Alexandria once again.

They would never forget the lives that were lost but they could begin to live for themselves.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t even heard your girlfriends' quiet footsteps.

“Jesus, what did those eggs do to you?” She asked with a snort as she wrapped her arms around your waist, her head resting on your shoulder after she felt you jump at her sudden presence.

“Holy, shit. You scared me.” You replied as you pulled the wet fork out of the batch of over-mixed eggs, sighing in contentment as you poured them into the low-heat pan.

“Hey. baby.” She muttered softly as she pulled her head to the side to lay light kisses on your skin. A smile tugged harshly at her lips as result.

“Hey, yourself.” Your smile turned into a grin as you felt her smile on your neck. Her arms left your waist to rub your sides lightly, causing a laugh to leave your lips at how ticklish it felt.

“I missed you in bed.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep.” You spoke with a faint shrug, feeling guilty about leaving the bed when you knew that she didn’t sleep well alone.

“Don’t say sorry, Baby. Not to me.” Rosita said in a soft but firm voice as her hands clasped tighter around the handles of your waist before slowly turning your body to face her, causing you to stop your stirring of the eggs.

“I- I just know you don’t sleep the best-” You started as you wrapped your arms around her neck, it looked almost like you were about to slow dance.

“I sleep the best when you sleep the best. If you’re not sleeping good neither am I, okay? Don’t be scared to get out of bed, Y/N.” She said firmly and roughly but her words were genuine. They always were. If you ever wanted an honest opinion, Rosita was your girl. She was your girl.

“I love you.” You said as you looked into her eyes, seemingly entranced.

She let out what people would call a giggle before a wide smile pulled on her full lips as she replied, “I love you too, you dork.”

She leaned her pink, pillowy lips towards yours. They rested there for a second before you leaned in the rest of the distance.

Just as any other time your lips became one, you felt a light shock and it felt as though someone was turning your insides into a trampoline. As weird as it sounds, you craved it. You wanted nothing more than to constantly feel what you were feeling. To be constantly lost in her lips.

After a moment Rosita’s hands slid down your hips towards your bottom before squeezing the plush flesh harshly, ripping a moan from your interlocked lips giving Rosita the perfect opportunity to slip her tongue into her parted lips.

Her tongue explored every inch of your mouth like it was the first time all over again. It ran over your gums, your teeth and the roof of your mouth.

No part of your mouth was untouched by Rosita’s skilled tongue, it dove into every nook and cranny making sure to not leave a piece of it untouched.

You pulled one of your hands away from her dark and knotty strands to shove your dominant one under her nightgown to rub on her, now-exposed, stomach.

The cold air nibbled at her skin as the front part of her was exposed to the chilling morning air that blew in from the open kitchen window. Your thumb ran over the smooth skin before you placed that hand on the skin of her back, exposing it even more.

Her nightgown was now only covering one side of her, the other hiked up so far you were beginning to see the outline of her breast. Your hands tugged at the dip of her back as you roughly yanked her closer to you, her unclothed core rubbing against your clothed one with every jerk of her hips.

When air finally became a necessity, Rosita pulled away with a gasp, her hips began to rub harsher as her need for release grew stronger. With one of her more rough thrusts you let out a whimper as her lips rubbed against your clit causing goose bumps to rise against your body, and your breasts tighten into sharp points.

Rosita’s wetness began to drip down her thighs, catching your attention as you pulled back slightly only to see a soaked-through spot on your panties.

Rosita let out a huff at the fact that her movements were interrupted so she dipped her finger in between her legs in an attempt to get herself off but before she could get any closer to her lower lips you slapped her hand away gently causing her to scowl at you in response.

“The hell is your problem?” She sassed as she threw her head backwards with a loud and annoyed huff.

“Why’re you being such a brat?” You asked as you leaned over to plant your lips on her exposed neck, certainly not missing the way her hands immediately clutched to the back of your head.

She moaned as you began to such harshly on her skin. Wanting everyone to see just how needy she was.

“I- just- fuck I need you... please.” She whimpered as she finally used her words.

You pulled your lips away from her wet skin as well as your body. You took hold of the end of her nightgown which had fallen back down to its normal place when you had pulled away from her body. She raised her arms above your head to assist you in taking the garment off of her sticky skin.

Once you had dropped the clothing on the floor she had turned her body away, preparing to make her way up the stairs to head to the bedroom, but you stopped her before she could make it any further.

“No, I’m not waiting any longer.” You spoke as you grabbed her arm to drag her towards the medium-abandoned couch.

You pulled your hand out of hers as you neared the piece of furniture, your hands pulling away your oversized nightshirt before you were plopping down on the couch landing on your back while you did so.

She stood beside you, eyes trained on your perked-up breasts as she rubbed her thighs together.

Rosita worshiped everything about you. There wasn’t a thing that she didn’t like. Not. A. Thing. She didn’t really have a favourite part of you, but if she had to say your eyes. She felt as though staring into them would be the sunniest she would ever be.

She wouldn’t really call herself a boob girl, or an ass girl or even a thigh girl. She loved those things about you equally but right now, she would have to say your boobs were her favourite.

She smiled to herself as she swung herself over your clothed pussy hoping that she would be able to get the friction that she was craving. The friction only you could give her.

But she stopped her movements when she felt your hands softly running over her tanned legs.

Her eyes locked onto your face after you pulled one hand away from her legs to gesture towards your mouth.

“Are you sure? You’re soaked.” Rosita pointed out as she furrowed her eyebrows.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want your mouth on her, it was just the fact that she felt like she had been neglecting you slightly with the amount of work she had been assigned to do around Alexandria, plus she had been one of the Alexandrian’s to have to travel to the other communities, which not only took an immense amount of energy but so much time that she could be spending with you.

“I wanna taste you, Ro. I miss you.” You all but begged as you began to pull her body towards your face while doing so you felt wetness follow in her tracks.

“You sure?” Rosita asked as she pressed her knees to

outline around your neck, her centre hovering so close you could feel the heat.

“Yeah, can I?” You asked for consent which earned you a desperate nod in response. You took a deep breath before you pulled Rosita's hips down roughly against your hot tongue, causing it to flicker her engorged clitoris softly. Her brown clitoris pulsated quickly as she let out a gasp at the sudden contact.

After playing with her for a few minutes longer you moved your hands from her hips to use your thumbs to pull apart her lips, opening up her beauty to your eyes and without delaying what you both needed any longer you stuck your tongue into her soppy hole.

Her taste over welcomed you as you gripped her ass tightly to hold her still against her needy lips.

Rosita’s head was thrown back in pure ecstasy as the pleasure of your skilled tongue overwhelmed her. Her hips jerked without her consent as she tightly clasped your hair and for a second she was scared she might rip it out of your scalp but when she received a moan in response she knew she was in the clear.

No one had ever made her feel like you did. Sure she had slept with a fair amount of people in her days on earth. Before the apocalypse and after, but she had never felt so cared for and respected when she offered herself so openly to someone. She had never felt so loved.

With you it was easy to be herself, at first she had put walls up in an attempt to keep herself safe from the bad luck she had felt was always hovering over her shoulder, waiting for her to finally be happy before it took away the ones she loved. But soon she realized that you didn’t like the person she tried to be. You loved the sass that filled her tone when she was fed up with someone’s BS or the fact that she would get excited and giddy for no reason at all.

She loved you as much as she knew you loved her. She knew thought she loved you more. You were all she thought about, day and night. She wasn’t lying when she said that she could only sleep if she knew you were happy and sleeping. It was like something was restraining her from doing anything until she knew that you were safe.

A loud moan tore through the air as you began to use your fingers to toy with her sensitive nub, pleasure erupted from her hole as her toes began to cramp up, and sweat began to roll down her face as she began to ride yours. Your nose constantly bumped against her hole when your tongue slipped from inside of her. Her walls contracted against nothing until you replaced your nose with a finger and, then after a few seconds, another.

Heavy pants left your mouth as the minutes without oxygen were beginning to catch up with you so to bring your girlfriend the release she was desperately; craving you brought your lips towards her nub before you closed your lips around it, softly sucking the muscle as you curled your fingers as far as they could go in her tight walls and after a second the grip on your fingers began to be painful as Rosita reached her end.

Loud moans poured out of her mouth and her hips jerked with so much force that she nearly fell over, her nails dug into your thighs as she leaned back. Cum gushed out of her hole as you angled your mouth to catch it all.

“Yes! Yes! Don’t stop- so s-so good!” She panted loudly as he continued your motions to help her ride out this intense high for as long as humanly possible.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing and shy giggles, you were both naked on the couch as they ate the slightly burnt, over-scrambled eggs, but you guys weren't complaining.

It was totally worth it. It was a much-needed morning pick-me-up.

[randomfoggytiger]

React: A Late-Canon Reviler Gives the Revival a Try (Weremonster), Part III

Here we go, first comedic episode of the Revival. 

…Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay…

Part I (My Struggle I) and Part II (Founder's Mutation).

Let's go!

MULDER AND SCULLY MEET THE WEREMONSTER

Why are we starting with adults huffing spray paint.

…Darin wrote two episodes with people getting high off of the strangest substances. 

And that’s not a lot, but it’s odd that it happened twice. 

Why do monsters always run towards the people or object or whatever they’re trying to scare or escape from? Like, what if he got surprise-shanked by two high, high school dropouts? (It’s not out of the realm of possibility.)  

No self-preservation instinct, tsk tsk. 

This dude’s okay, no that dude, woah that dude might not be okay. 

…Random paper bag for the high man to stress-blow into. 

Oh, look, a writer remembering the lore. 

How quaint. 

(Sidenote: Darin did not remember the lore, and kinda prided himself on not keeping up with all of it. But that won’t matter to me if he writes a good one-off.)

Mulder’s older now so he can’t stretch his neck to throw pencils at the ceiling. I guess. I suppose. I supposition. I presume.  

Kumail’s in this one? 

…’Kay. 

“Mulder?” Yay, that’s Scully-- “What are you doing to my poster?” And that’s Gillian. 

Mulder’s recounting all his failures in an upbeat, presentational way ‘cuz he’s wooing his girl. At least neither of them act like they’re on the precipice of death, that’s neato. 

Oh, look, Scully can smile. Remember how she did that twice in My Struggle I? Good times. 

Why’s her shirt look like it’s from Walmart?

Forgot this… pencil-scratch material was popular around the mid twenty-teens.

Can I forget it again…? …No? Do they leave it behind in Season 10? 

“--Going through these cases with fresh, if not wiser eyes.” Well, I don’t know about that. 

Also, is that a dig at his “wiseness” or a tongue-in-cheek joke at Mulder’s pat-on-the-back nature? (Lemme rewind.) Backpat coupled with epiphany. 

“Mulder? Have you been taking your meds?” 

…

….

…..

What, did they expect a laugh out of me? It just annoyed me because of the whole “Mulder’s depression” trauma I suffered for two episodes. 

But at least Darin’s trying to remind us that’s an on-going issue (despite CC implying it doesn’t bother Mulder anymore in My Struggle I and Morgan?-- or Wong-- reinforcing that idea in his “bitterly healed and chakras open” Founder’s Mutation ending.) 

Mulder’s a middle-aged man who just got back to the office and is wondering if anything he’s accomplished… well, if he’s accomplished anything. 

A valid question in these dark times. 

And by dark times, we all know what me and my chocolate-addled, My Struggle-PTSDed brain are referring to. 

Mulder certainly does:

“Maybe it’s time to put away childish things-- the Sasquatches, the Mothmen, and… Jackalopes.” 

Okay, well that’s rude-- I always wanted to see a jackalope case. 

Mulder spent one weekend not getting a community response to his latest fanfic and let the dark thoughts take over. 

All joke’s aside, this is an… it’s an okay scene. It’s weighty enough to be taken seriously, you feel for this clone of Mulder’s, you hope he gets his Mr. Incredibles act together--

Oh, wait, he already did by now. 

I guess. 

We skipped the traincar training montage while he was getting back into FBI ready shape. 

…

.....

.......

You’re welcome. 

On another aside, Skinner just pulled all the strings only for Mulder to have an identity crisis after one weirdo case. 

Man’s been carrying everyone on his back for decades with no rest and his newly recruited, depressed-but-not-depressed-depending-on-the-writer, domesticated-feral-animal agent might just trounce back out of the FBI and go wall up somewhere to mope. 

At least he’s not wandering off to take illegal substances to satisfy his curiosity. 

No. 

That’s saved for another episode. 

Scully brushes over Mulder’s confession to say, “we got another case, and this one’s ALSO got a monster in it.” 

And that makes him happy. 

Oooooooooooooooooooooooookay. 

*scribbling notes for later observation*

Darin has a favorite and that is OG Scully. And I will give it to him, she actually sounds happy for once. 

ALSO, I noticed your smoker voice is gone, GILLIAN, unless you’re mumbling or using The Sad Voice ™. I noticed. 

Scully’s insisting this is a monster case while Mulder mopes around the woods and says it’s a mountain lion. 

…I’m NOT gonna nitpick. I’m NOT-- OKAY, so, rewind time. 

Older Mulder-- as in the 90s Mulder-- would have at least been amused by Scully’s antics and followed her around for the fun of it, unless he felt used and abused, i.e. Host and Folie a Deux. Here is not the case. 

Further, he was intrigued in the basement but is now kind of… dismissive. 

Which is. It’s not a big problem, it doesn’t stand out, and it wouldn’t be something I’d clock except I’m very disgruntled and burned and grumpy about the past three days. 

However. 

Let’s continue. 

 Mulder’s Patriarchy Pants are making him do the Marilyn Monroe wiggle again. However, like a virus, middle-aged wedgie crotch has infected Scully, too; and the two of them are squeak-squonking ‘round the forest. 

They do say marriage slowly turns you into each other. 

Mulder sloughing off the naked guy in the crime scene pics as “Well, maybe he’s a nudist.” 

Darin. 

I know what you’re doing here. 

Give Mulder the doubting identity crisis and have his faith transformed. A reverse Clyde Bruckman, if you will. I get it. But you gotta admit, "a nudist" is a pretty weak rationalization, let alone a comeback. 

“That’s how I’d like to go out.” That saved it a little.

“The uniqueness of the wound, Mulder, implies a human element.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, Scully, I gave up profiling before I gave up monsters.” WHAT? LAST WEEK?

YOUR CREDENTIALS AS A PROFILER GOT YOU HIRED BACK TO THE FBI--

Pause, pause, pause. 

He’s probably being tongue-in-cheek. He gave up monsters this morning and profiling last night. 

…If he’s not, what’s Mulder gonna do? Take up residence under Skinner’s desk? Have his bald benefactor feed him pencil shavings between meetings? 

“You seen one serial killer, you seen ‘em all.” Quite literally, no. 

I am. 

Puzzled. 

It’s not offensive-- WAIT, NO. I’m being emotionally manipulated by a softer Mulder and more upbeat Scully, youcan’ttakemealive--

“Mulder, I can see you’re going through a questioning phase of some sort--”

You don’t say. 

From bar to basement. From closet to forest. From Founder’s Mutation to… Weremonster Investigation.

Scully points out they need to help the victims.

Mulder: “Okay, well when you put it that way, Scully, but mark my words--”

I’m not getting the essence of Mulder here, gang. 

I got him for, like, three whiffs in My Struggle I and once at the end of Founder’s Mutation, but he’s MIA here so far. 

…Perhaps my “clone Mulder” crack in a previous paragraph kinds fits. 

Hmmm. If he continues to be Mulder-adjacent, I shall name him… I was gonna say ‘Charlie’, then remembered that’s Scully’s brother’s name. The CC name rot is infecting me. 

The streetwalker-on-crack scene was amusing, but not really funny. 

OH, MAN, JUST GOT JUMP-SCARED BY KUMAIL, OHMYWORD. 

Also, that was a weird cut-- Scully opens her mouth to say something, Mulder looks at her, CUT, Kumail face. 

The director was meaning to imply Mulder stopped Scully’s attempted defense with a look, but it only made it seem like one of them said something so cancellable the editors drop-kicked that bit from the final recording. 

I haven’t laughed once .

Welp, Kumail ran off after playing a scared animal control officer for three seconds. 

Pardon, but what was the purpose of that scene?

This kinda feels like a play: in this set piece, the hooker whacks a creature with a purse; in this set piece, Kumail gets spooked by the agents and runs off after hearing a roar; still in this set piece, Mulder whips out his phone and starts… hitting… the… picture… button. 

My thought process:

It's dark at night. 

2. I hear a ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR. 

3. I'm pulling out my gun, not my camera. 

You know why?

There are more tigers in North American than the world combined. 

Just sayin’. 

SCULLY, REINSTALL THE SAFETY FEATURE IN YOUR KEN, PLEASE. 

JUST. PUT. THE PHONE. ON. VIDEO. MODE. 

Oh, wait, he’s a tech goombus who doesn’t know how to take videos. 

THEY SAW A DEAD BODY--

…

THEY SAW A DEAD BODY THROUGH HIS PHOTOS INSTEAD OF NOTICING THE CORPSE RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM?

I’m not mad because this isn’t as mean-spirited as the previous two episodes, but that’s just. That’s just.  

That. 

Wait, how’d they get from Mulder’s camera setting to his photo collage, without swiping or going there or…? He was taking rapid-fire pictures, Scully looks over, says, “What’s that?”, and the camera cuts to a picture that has to be in the phone’s gallery. …What happened-- you know what? Never mind. 

Mulder runs off INTO THE DARK with ONLY HIS CAMERA OUT while Scully is yards behind him WITH THE GUN. 

Solid decision making there. 

My man, if this were a tiger (we’ve already seen it’s the horny Lizardman) or a cougar in heat (well, give Scully a few episodes), you’d probably be very dead. 

I’ve named Mulder-Clone: Ken. He’s cute, he’s having an identity crisis, and he’s as dumb as a rock. 

This fits unintentionally well with his Patriarchy Pants (though they’re wearing him, not of the other way around.) 

Kumail’s here and they both scared each other and now they’re hyper-Ken-focusing on Ken’s wonky phone app and stuff. 

Barbie-- clone Scully-- hears Ken and Kumail screaming their lungs out after getting jumped by Lizardman and only NOW notices Mulder had Marilyn Monroe shimmied off. 

Imagine if this were the end of Mulders career: questioning his life’s purpose, losing the battle to technology, and T-posing, dead, on the ground. 

Ken sounds completely fine when Scully runs up to him asking if he's okay. No wooziness. No nothing. (Kumail, too.)

“Okay. I quit.” Smarty Mr. K. over there (not Ken, but you knew that.)

Monster’s a-running, and Formerly-Mulder springs up and races off with Scully. 

What did that jumpscare accomplish, narratively? What did any of these jumpscares accomplish, narratively?

I know we’re only 10 minutes in, but it’s feeling a little too… scene-scene-scene-scene-scene, jumpscare-jumpscare-jumpscare, phone-phone-phone-phone-phone. T-pose. That was a shakeup, I guess. 

Ken was going to question the guy on the pot (who is, indeed, the Lizardman, btw) but notices Scully’s face and closes the door and walks away with her. 

Strangely, that and the basement are the only scenes, thus far, where Ken was most like Mulder. 

Scully, do you regret putting a battery pack in your Ken doll now?

This interaction is still Ken-not-Mulder, but Scully is kinda recognizable. 

Just realized. Mulder replaced his slideshow with a phone. Now he can inflict them on his partner even in the midst of her autopsies. 

No one is safe. 

THERE’S A MULDER MOMENT, I ACTUALLY SMILED! 

And now it’s gone. 

“So now you’re saying you were attacked by a six-foot horny toad?”

“Woah, let’s keep this in the realm of natural sciences, shall we?”

Um. 

That’s not a Mulder line. 

That’s not even a Ken line, I don’t think. 

Need to think up a new name for Mulder, I guess. 

I figured it out. David’s attacking the lines too vigorously rather than letting them breathe. I’m sure he’ll get there. 

Or Mulder and Scully were swallowed up by a black hole the second after they exchanged “Scratchy beard” niceties. Because that’s the last I’ve seen of them. 

But honestly? Clone. Lives. Matter. 

So, I shall fully support Clone Mulder and Clone Scully living their truth, expressing their lived experiences, and digging through each other’s brains like hairless capuchin monkeys dressed in skin-tight leotards.  

I was gonna say “horny, hairless capuchin monkeys” but I’ve not got a LICK of sexual tension between them this whole time. 

They do say married couples transition from goose-pimply “honeymoon love” to matured, knowing passion; but all I’m getting is the “knowing” and none of the “passion”.  

Right after my point, the two exchanged a little upbeat moment. I’ll give it that; but the passion’s still not there.

WAIT, this episode has the fox-in-the-wall scene? 

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. 

I thought that was the doppelganger one. 

‘Kay. Color me intrigued. 

…WHAT is going on with these random, “comedic” scenes?

Desk clerk yells "Monster!", Mulder runs in, guy’s shaking over a bottle, makes up a story, tells Mulder to go back to his room “or I’ll kill ya.” Mulder nods and walks off. 

I’m not getting the fun of this episode, but I’m only 12 minutes in. So. 

Mulder’s snooping in someone else’s room. 

Mulder took someone else’s meds. 

Mulder found an animal head with hollow eyes that led him to a secret room behind the motel room. 

Heh, get it, he’s a Fox looking through fox eyes at Scully. Get it. 

I’m remembering bits from DD and GA’s commentary and how they were cheering him on in this moment. Someone should’ve told them this is Clone!Mulder. 

More proof this man finds burrows in the unlikeliest places:

The manager says he installed those peeping tom hallways after 9/11, and yes that’s being used as an excuse but there’s supposed to be a joke behind it, right?

For instance: Rocky from Jose Chung’s From Outer Space took some political hits, but the jokes were funny and well-written. Here, they're either badly written or… someone’s directing these actors astray. And I know Clone!Mulder and innkeeper man are good actors because they’re doing their best selling this material. Things still feel wonky, unfortunately. 

Mulder’s getting objectified again, Your Honor. He got closeted last episode, he’s “questioning” this episode, and he’s being stared at in his speedo. And he didn't mind one bit.

Innkeeper man’s got closets of his own, too. *badum tssssss*

HOW did Mulder’s phone get a picture of the Lizardman in his human form earlier? In the split-second he and Scully opened the potty stall before turning and continuing their search? I'll even grant that... but a CLEAR one?

Whatever, whatever, whatever. 

Clone!Mulder’s patched his disbelief during the insomnia upgrade.

Clone!Scully unleashed a beast but still wakes up and stays up to hear him ramble. (Here’s the “my Mulder” line and the could-have-been-a-Knick’s-T-shirt moment.)

I do have another nitpick: why is Mulder diatribing here-- trying to convince Scully it’s a werewolf when she’s been saying monster or creature from the get-go? Is it the “werewolf” claim that he thinks she’ll rebut? Or? 

I do like: Scully about to answer, then nearly smiling when Mulder cuts her off. Brilliant touch. Hats off to GA for that second of goodness. 

“‘It defies every known law of nature’-- exactly, Scully, every known law of nature!”

Mulder, she’s agreed with this point since Herrenvolk. She kinda did a mini speech about it. 

He doesn’t know how it came to be, but all he’s saying is, “it’s a MONSTER.” 

She’s ready to go back to the Unremarkable House already, Mulder. She just needed you to nerd out over monsters. 

Which… isn’t that actually the most Scully thing you’ve ever heard? Think about it: she wants to leave the Conspiracy behind, it’s eating her alive, she’s so sad and yadda yadda yadda. Darin says, “Hold up, this girl loves Mulder’s rants and raves” and makes her poke and prod him out of despair with a juicy creature case. And then (hopefully) reaps the benefits. 

Girl’s got a mission. 

And also, this doesn’t mesh at all with the Revival’s canon, but when has that stopped this crazy trainwreck? 

Why’s Scully calling him watered-down-for-FOX’s-approval crazy when she’s been saying creature this whole time?  Does she just… like arguing him? …That’s a stupid question, does she like arguing with him this much? …Again, that’s a--

Mulder spouts his theory, admits he stole stuff from another guy’s room, and tells Scully they can use his meds to track him down. “Well, that sounds like a good investigative plan.” In other words: “And you do so good at beach.” 

Now Mulder wants to go peeping around the motel, for the lols. 

Ken energy, I’m just saying. 

Alsooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo not Mulder, sorry. He’d be curious, intrigued, perhaps roguishly amused by peeping tom corridors; but he’s never taken the time to search places inch-by-inch, top-to-bottom unless they directly related to the case. Is this a nitpick? Probably. But he’s flinging around broken FBI regulations left-and-right, carelessly reckless of all the rules and laws he’s breaking. Sure, Mulder’s a lawbreaker; but not to the extent that it would violate civilian rights. And even if it were fine, he’d be running off to the next lead instead of sticking around to snuffle through a useless one. 

The “Lizardman stabbing himself in the mirror with green glass to break the curse, not realizing it’s him” story doesn’t… really…. Darin Morgan’s writing crackfic at this point. 

Impotency jokes. 

Ahhh, the middle ages: you end up questioning things about yourself or having to pop pills one way or another. 

The comedy keeps failing, I think, because it’s trying too hard. This episode feels like a play (did I mention that earlier?) with dramatic pauses and etc. etc. Not really X-Filesy. 

The psychologist prescribes Mulder a pill (because Mulder believes the Lizardman’s a lizard man), then pops the pill himself the second Mulder leaves… which meansssss he believed, too? Though he doesn’t? 

I get he was supposed to be a crazy psychologist (ala Dr. Spiegel during the Johnny Depp trials), but, again, the comedy flopped. 

“Horny toad lizard man” works at a smart phone shop OF COURSE. Because that’s soooooooooooo clever! Modernization, crises of humanity and identity, get it??? 

Weremonster’s not offensive, but it’s… I’m gonna be honest, it’s not clever, either. 

Why does Scully wear her shirt open almost past her bra line now? Not shaming her, but that doesn’t seem a very Scully thing to do. I don’t know, maybe I’m overthinking things. It was just her style, her way, her self-expression; and it feels smudged and lost in this version of Clone!Scully. 

At least she seems more naturally Scully, this episode. Which means she can only be natural in the funny episodes, huh. 

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh. 

Mulder has a gold car? Mulder rented a gold car? There’s a gold car here that serves as middle-age-over-compensation commentary. 

Mulder chastises Scully about the danger of approaching a dangerous suspect without backup then runs off, get it, ‘cuz that’s FUNNY. 

I must have a heart of coal because I’m bored instead of tickled. It’s waaaaaaay better than being angry and tired, though, so. 

“I’ll take it” is giving this experience too many brownie points, so I’ll use “I’m resigned”, instead. 

Here we go, the part where the Lizardman voices Darin Morgan’s gripes with work culture (and I say that because Darin himself said he only works because he has to pay the bills. Which, fair enough, I suppose.)

Wait. Did Lizo Man go from a generic British to an Australian accent? 

Guy tries to stage a cop suicide by green glass at Mulder’s hands and…. I’m sorry, this is kind of a fever dream. I can’t even unpack that logic for some bizarre reason. 

Let me unpack that logic for some bizarre reason: 

Psychologist tells Lizardman the story about breaking the curse by getting stabbed in the appendix. 

It involves the realization that the Werelizard stares at himself in the mirror and realizes he’s the monster. 

Does… does that prevent him from committing suicide? The psycologist’s instructions remain murky. 

Lizardman’s fed up with existence. Decides enough’s enough and goes back to the cemetery. 

Mulder walks up and tries to get him to unburden himself. 

Lizardman tries to bait him into cop homicide by green bottle. 

…How in the world did he think that would happen. 

MULDER. LOST. HIS GUN. Which is probably a wink-and-nod by Darin of the good ol’ days when Mulder lost it constantly. 

This Lizard’s gotta know who Mulder is at this point, and that Mulder would track him down and find him. That’s my prediction. 

Mulder agrees to kill Guy Mann. Guy Mann calls him the only nice human he’s ever met. Of course cut back to Mulder’s face as he insists Guy tell him the whole story, first. 

Scully has no idea where Mulder is, does she. 

I knew the psychologist’s “other client thought he was a werewolf” would play into this. Heavy-handedly. 

The stupid, perfectly placed bush when Lizardman woke the next morning. I can’t even be mad at it. 

He took the not-nudist’s clothes, that explains things. 

The dialogue’s also kind of… juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuvenile. 

Lizardman leaped over the natural order of human life by talking mad game, and Darin glosses over the details with “humans are the best at that.” Ooooooookay. 

Nope, that doesn’t work for me. Not if Lizardman joined a tech shop and got promoted to manager the next day. 

I feel like Darin hasn’t hung around iphone shops much. 

HE COMMITTED A MURDER BECAUSE HE ATE A COW IN A HAMBURGER. Really.

Was this lizard a vegetarian????? Because animals constantly break their own eating rituals if they’re hungry (deer eating baby birds, rabbits, and even human corpses, for example.) I doubt a creature of that size and strength existed only on vegetation, especially if there were food shortages during the natural course of its life (which happens in the wild.) 

But NITPICK ASIDE, he ate his first cow. 

…Why didn’t he go find a head of lettuce and chow down on it? Then realize he’s missing something, eat the chicken from the salad, then go on a meat-eating binge? That would have been kinda funny. 

Oh, he’s an insectivore. 

So, he’s a meat eater. 

And he... uuuuuuuuuuuuugh--

Dude’s a protein eater via the carcases of other living things, not plants. 

Dude didn’t have consciousness until he woke a man. 

So it wouldn’t have mattered to Dude if he ate a cow, anyway, because he’s a carnivore and humans are omnivores. 

So what gives? 

“No one likes insects. Not even other insects.” SO INSECTS HAVE EMOTIONS, LIKES, AND PREFERENCES. YET, YOU ATE THEM. I don’t see sound reasoning for an ethical or moral stance here, Guy Mann. 

Lizardman spent the rest of the day helplessly watching… porn. Just couldn’t help himself. Uh huh. 

Dude, you were an animal YESTERDAY, with no association to human morays or social etiquette or guidelines or….

OH. That’s how the Scully scene plays into this. 

But then that scene’ll be shot because it’s played for jokes-- males wanting to overexaggerate their knotch count-- rather than a very real reality of animals with zero morals when it comes to their procreation habits. 

Let’s see if I’m right. 

Guys, this would have been funnier and-- there’s that word again-- clever if Guy Mann lived like a caveman for a few days then overheard some humans talk about job, bills, and etc. spiraled, thinking he would be stuck as a half-human forever, and resigned himself to the fate of every other human (through the lens of his lizard brain, heh.) 

It’s not supposed to be taken seriously, I know, but Darin always wrote plausibility into his previous scripts. This one feels like he didn’t try hard enough. 

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO wow. 

Guy went to a "witch doctor"-- oops, “a psychologist”-- but stopped taking his prescribed meds because “it just clouded my thoughts” TO WHICH MULDER NODS IN UNDERSTANDING. 

Mulder gets it because, as an Oxford educated psychologist, he could diagnose the other psychologist (who shouldn’t be prescribing meds) as a wack job. 

Mulder stopped taking his meds. 

Which is what Scully asked if he’d done in the intro. 

Which means his depression’s gone away without his meds. 

Which means his depression’s either CURED, BOOM, or he never needed meds to begin with. 

Which means Scully misdiagnosed him. 

And left. 

OR Mulder stopped taking them and was on depression med withdrawal in the beginning of this episode, hence his melancholia…? 

‘Tis a mess. 

Only time to be happy as a human is to spend time in the company of a non-human-- YOU’RE AN ANIMAL. YOU’RE NOT A HUMAN. YOU JUST LOOK LIKE ONE FOR TWELVE HOURS A DAY. 

Also, Daggoo. Yup. There he is. Uhuh. 

Scully was robbed of her first dog by an overgrown lizard and robbed from another overgrown lizard in return. 

Daggoo was let out of the motel and ran off, and Mann felt crushing loss and grief (while looking not quite that) then ran into Mulder and Smarty K and ran to the toilet and got pap shot by Mulder and etc. 

(Also, he ran into the werewolf dude; and Mulder knows the urge to “strangle him and eat his flesh” when it comes to villains and their villainy.)

Hokey. That’s how I would describe this episode. Inoffensive, but new Scooby Doo.  

Wait, he threw his clothes off while witnessing the werewolf man eat another man (get it, it looked like animalistic sex) then but had them on again when Mulder ripped open the stall door and took his pants-down shot. 

What. 

Wait, Mulder’s up-to-date with transgender procedures and terms but not? familiar with gay bars? 

What, did he subscribe to a Queer Life email subscription between episodes, or is that too new-fangled? 

This episode doesn’t know what angle it wants to tackle for Clone!Mulder (forgot that nickname temporarily) and instead becomes a mix of everything at different strengths (that also change depending on which scene.) 

HOW did Guy Mann not recognize Mulder after Mulder took a picture of him on the port-a-potty??? And stuck around to ask him some questions??? 

“That was me, actually.” 

“I thought I recognized you!” 

So. He… diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiid? 

OR it was a jackalope head on the wall?

No, wait, it wasn’t a jackalope, Guy Mann just misidentified the animal head on the wall-- and he’s “creeped out” by jackalopes ever since a friend got “gored” by them and GET IT, GUYS, THIS ALL LINKS BACK TO THE BASEMENT WHEN MULDER TALKED ABOUT MOTHMEN AND JACKALOPES. 

I swear, Mulder’s just trippin or suffering withdrawals from his meds. 

Scully said, “We have a creature case,” and he went home and dreamed this all up in a slime pit of sweat. 

HIS DEAD FRIEND GEORGE. 

SO THESE LIZARD PEOPLE HAVE NAMES????

THEN WHY’S HIS NAME GUY MANN?????????????????????????????????????

SO, they have friends and eat insects that have some form of consciousness and consider burgers to be cow murder. 

I need to stop thinking seriously about this plot. 

It’s pit stink Mulder thrashing around in his bed, smiling over speedos and peeping tom tunnels and Scully affectionately calling him crazy-- and that makes the most sense, honestly. 

“I think my phone isn’t working right because guys don’t send me pictures of their junk on it.”

More evidence that this was written not by Darin Morgan but by his middle school aged doppelganger, Marin Dorgan, who split from his body during the stress of having to write for the Revival. 

“Ever since I became a human, I can’t help but lie about my sex life.” Stupid. He’d need a Twitter account, first. 

Mulder’s back to doubting because the entire story’s too silly. To be fair, I do like this beat; and it does align (if you squint at it) with his journey out of depression. BUT it is all too silly, so… kinda think Clone!Mulder’s got a point. 

Mulder smiling over learning that Shakespeare called us all ignorant idiots is a nice touch which I shall now spoil: how did Guy Mann know that? Porn? 

“Fox, man, you’ve gotta put me out of my misery!” Get it, Fox Mann, Guy Mann? Animals, GET IT. 

“You wanted to arrest me for something I didn’t do. Who takes advantage like that? I’ll tell you: a human.” That’s the only comedic bit that landed, for me, and even then it was a lip twitch. His contained righteous indignation got through whatever made the rest of this the way it is! WHOO! 

The guy goes stomping off yelling “Monster!” behind him at Mulder to drive his point home, which drives Mulder to drink. 

“Mulder’s the monster, get it, because he doesn’t know what he is and is just willing to use other people for his own selfish ends?” the plot says, affectionately, with a giggle behind its hand. 

This is the scene where he collapses by Kim Manner’s tomb, isn’t it. 

ARE YOU KIDDING, MULDER HAS HIS THEME SONG AS A RINGTONE. 

MULDER’S HIGH, THAT’S IT. HE’S HIGH OR OVERDOSING ON HAPPY DRUGS, THERE’S NO OTHER EXPLANATION. 

Now that I know this is Ken Mulder’s delirium, it’s going to be interesting to draw unauthorized conclusions about his Alice in Wonderland hallucination. 

Aww, look, it’s Kim Manners. 

Mulder’s got his Patriarchy Pants' cheeks right on Kim’s face. 

Me, ten minutes into the Revival: “Maybe I’m just a fool, Scully. Maybe I always have been.” 

Can’t knock that line too much because it is a Mulder thing to think or say. 

And it still fits into my delirium scenario, so. 

Oh, Kumail’s been turned. Didn’t see that coming. The music’s suspenseful, too. That’s cool. 

There’s no way Mulder should figure this out, but he probably will. 

Oh, he didn’t. 

That’s good. 

Also, Scully’s: “Maybe I miss having a dog. And someone to hold my grudges for me,” could apply to her tendency to own dogs but it also might refer to Mulder who she let “curse God for a while” in her stead in IWTB. 

Also, where was THIS scene hiding? It’s really good. 

Ken Mulder’s hobbling, not running, to his car. ‘Kay. 

Wait, Kumail's not a werewolf?

And Scully's got it all handled???? 

Wait, NO, that makes no sense. AND IT’S ALL EXPLAINED AWAY WITH “I’M IMMORTAL” what. 

Scully went to the animal control shelter because she suspected Kumail was the murderer. 

She lingered with her back to Kumail, letting him have home court advantage. 

HE SLIPPED A NOOSE AROUND HER NECK. 

That’s it, she’s doneso. She’s a 5’2” woman that’s as light as a bird, there’s no way she’s toppling a man, let alone one with a noose around her neck and has distance on his side. 

Yes, I know this was because the transgender woman surprised Guy Mann with her punch, but that doesn’t translate to a stunning twist for Scully to also have the upper hand. She doesn’t have enough meat on her bones, and nowhere near the arm length to stop her attacker. 

Did Guy Mann show up and interfere? Help her out in anyway? Did the dogs rush in and tackle him until she could get up? 

IS SCULLY A DOG WHISPERER????? If so, why did Daggoo bite her????????

I will say: Kumail being the murderer really changes that one scene where he was sneaking up behind Mulder. 

And also… the fact that he worked for an animal shelter, since he started with small animals.

WAIT, this is a normal animal control shelter, yes? That’s what Mulder yelled into his phone, anyway. 

But… there were only dogs in the room when Mulder and the officers arrived. 

So. Scully is a dog whisperer, or she tackled Kumail, loosed all the dogs before he got up, and pinned him (impossible) until the cops arrived. I guess. Or the dogs were loose to begin with. 

Oh, and chickens.

Dogs and chickens. 

Dogs. And chickens. And goats. 

(Were ALL the animals loose??????)

Scully, the farm animal whisperer. A trait she must share with her Wyoming son. 

Welp. There goes that scene. 

Scully approached a dangerous suspect twice without backup (says Mulder, who was Kenning it out in the cemetery with the first dangerous suspect… and the second, if you count him running off and nearly getting offed by Kumail without his knowledge); and excuses it by saying Mulder needed “quality time” with his Lizardman. 

“Besides, I’m immortal.” 

That sounds like the prequel to another poor decision tattooed on your back, Scully. 

Mulder’s not soothed by this pronouncement (obviously), but realizes “If Guy’s story was true--” and runs off into the woods. Again. 

And Scully asks the dog if he wants to go home with her. 

And I question. Why a dog. Why that dog. 

You miss dogs but you didn’t have a tie to any particular dog. And this dog bit you. 

Because he’s Plot Relevant Dog. I see. 

“Woah, I’m not a reptile! That’s racist!”

No it’s not you silly, silly reptile with utterly unexplainable human knowledge and reflection. 

Also, another motif of Mulder just standing there watching another guy undress, casually. 

An aspect of Darin’s writing I hadn’t considered: Mulder knows Guy does odd things for a normal human; but also knows this is normal for Guy and just goes with it, for his sake. Like a good psychologist. Like a decent human. 

But also, he has his limits. 

Also, get it, Mulder’s a man outside mankind, too, who just needs to find himself again. Geeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit?

“I want to believe,” Mulder says. 

Mulder just needed someone to say they’re glad to have met him, they’re glad to have him in their life. 

So. 

I guess Scully hasn’t said those words yet. 

Guy shakes his hand. 

Mulder watches, stunned, as Guy runs off to hibernate for 10,000 years-- another hallmark of Marin Dorgan’s writing. Ha ha ha, a knee slapper, that one. 

“Likewise,” Mulder whispers, overcome and disbelieving and renewed all in one. 

A nice little heartfelt, cheesy, sincere ending. 

CONCLUSION

What did I just watch? 

Thanks for reading~

Enjoy!

[anime-owo-kage-san]

Unpopular (?) Opinion: I want Crymini to happen before or during the “Huskerdust” development.

(This is speaking in the sense IF Huskerdust would be canon. And don’t argue about whether it is or isn’t pls. I said IF, to stay vague about it.)

Okay. Obviously I don’t want her to show at EXACTLY the first episode of the next season. But, I would like for Crymini to show up in season 2.

I’ve heard some say that it wouldn’t be appropriate timing, because Husk ‘already has Angel to deal with’. So, it would be better for her to show up after some more development between Angel and Husk, otherwise she might be getting in the way of their development with each other.

But, for me? I say her showing up ‘early’ might work:

In the pilot, Husk says “I’ve lost the ability to love years ago.” And ofc, that’s the perfect line to give to a character who will eventually learn to love again.

He finally started liking Angel, but he doesn’t ‘love’ Angel just yet.

And, while I honestly ship these two to double death —I don’t think Husk learning to ‘love again’ should start with Angel (A.k.a ‘his potential love interest’).

I personally think it should start with Crymini (a.k.a ‘the child figure’).

It could just come from my personal belief, that not every character who grew cold should find a ‘love interest’ to break their walls down. (Not saying that they can’t have a love interest. They absolutely can. But, my point is ‘finding love’, can be more than just in a romantic sense). ——I just think it might suit Husk better if this is what happened first, before he and Angel; while he opened some vulnerable parts of himself to Angel, he opens up his softer, wiser, and more protective side for a kid who needs guidance (speaking from how I assume Crymini would be portrayed, until she’s official).

And Angel? ——Husk has done good for him, by listening to his problems, and cheering him up during Loser Baby. Now, it’s time to see some Angel doing good for Husk (and maybe minor angsty feels); he sees the family-like relationship between the two, and decides to give Husk space.

Angel would think to himself, ‘I’m a grown-ass adult. I can handle myself. Husk should focus on that kid. She definitely needs him more than I do.’

So, he’d bitch about his work a lot less to Husk, thinking it would help not overwhelm him. Might even let Husk bitch to him instead, when Crymini becomes a handful, because everyone else usually leaves it to Husk since he’s the closest to her. And Angel listens to it all.

And maybe from all of this, it’ll remind Angel about the rocky relationship he had with his family (namely his father and brother), and admire how nice Husk is to a rebellious kid who he hasn’t known for that long yet. (Cue falling in love with a guy who’s good with kids.)

Husk eventually notices that Angel comes to him a lot less now, when he had a bad day , and confronts him about it. They have a heart to heart about it, and came to an agreement to rant to each other about their busy day.

Then some eventual Angel and Crymini relationship, when he runs into the same club as her. Then takes it upon himself to watch over her from afar because Husk wasn’t there, but starts hovering over her like he did with Niffty. (Okay, I’m writing a fanfic at this point.)

But, I hope you all get what I mean here; Husk CAN love Angel when he learns to love again, but learning to love again doesn’t HAVE to start with Angel.

[romance-is-tragic]

Hey, Anna! I was just wondering if you could do a 'How the DC Legends would kiss y/n'. I'm working on a Leonard Snart fanfic and I'm having trouble describing how he would kiss/comfort my character who's going through a messy breakup.

Have a good day/night

Headcanons! How The DC Legends Would Kiss Fem! Y/N

Summary: See title. By the way, this is a select few characters from Season 1. Let us assume that this isn't the first kiss. Because I don't remember how to write first kisses.

A/N: I have been AWOL for several freaking years. Matters progressed. At some point during Covid, I kinda gave up on fanfiction because school got busy. But this was a cute little prompt I just had to pick up. (Totally not procrastinating on an essay here!) Took me fifteen minutes to do this. Not my best work, but I'm glad I got back into fanfiction. To everyone who still reads my younger self's work, thank you so much! Love you guys <3

PS. Thanks so much for asking @buckybarnesismylife! I'm glad you thought of me <3

Jefferson Jackson/Jax (Firestorm #2)

I see Season 1 Jax as... kinda shy? Kinda sweet? He likes you, he likes likes you, he likes likes you very much. But... PDA and whatnot, nope. He steals kisses from you when you're alone together.

Maybe he's in the engine room, tinkering. Or in the lab, doing... lab work. You're sitting to the side, reading a book, writing a poem, scrolling through Tumblr? Every so often, he gets up, places a kiss to your forehead, temple, cheek. You are this man's pomodoro technique.

And every so often, you pull him to you, place your lips against his. He's gentle. He cradles you close, a hand running through your hair. He draws it out. He enjoys it. You enjoy it. And when you pull away for air, a shy smile peeks through. And maybe even... a blush?

Leonard Snart (Captain Cold)

He is gentle with nobody but you. Yes, he's a slick sweet-talker, but with you, he's different. Softer. Maybe even sweeter. And he ain't afraid to show how much he likes you.

His kisses are casual. A kiss to your forehead as you sleep, a kiss to your shoulder as you work. Simple little kisses that send shivers down your spine. Now is that because of the cold gun, his frosty personality, or something else entirely? Who knows?

But his kisses are also very very not casual. Before missions, he holds you close. He feels the contours of your body under his hands. Such gentle hands, memorising every inch of your skin. A kiss to your forehead, on each eyelid, tip of your nose, then your lips. Long, hard, deep. A kiss to remember.

And after missions? Screw the kisses. He's just glad to know that you're alive. And well. And his. Okay, maybe some kisses. A lot of kisses.

Martin Stein (Firestorm #1)

He would not. Man is madly in love with Clarissa, and he would never dream of cheating on her. Shame on y'all for asking. (Did Martin ever cheat on Clarissa? It's been several years since I've seen the show... so... Someone tell me?)

Mick Rory (Heatwave)

I don't see Mick kissing anyone. Obviously, he is capable of affection, but it takes him time. He's more the huggy type? Maybe, just maybe, he places his lips against your temple as you sleep. He loves you. So so much. He's just scared to show it.

Ray Palmer (Atom)

Golden retriever vibes here. When this man likes you, he likes you. You tinker in the lab alongside him. The two of you work in comfortable quiet, the silence punctuated by the whisper of his kisses along your face, neck and shoulders. How this man ever gets work done, nobody knows.

But those are the casual kisses. On long languid afternoons, you lay in bed together, and he kisses you. Over and over and over. This man worships you and he lets you know. His hands pull you closer, he wraps you in his arms, and his kisses find their way to your lips. Over and over and over.

Sara Lance (White Canary)

Not typically the touchy feely type. When she kisses you, she means it. And they're not gentle either. They might start off gentle. Tender kisses against your lips, nips at your neck and collarbone. But then they get rough. Her lips working against yours, her tongue exploring your mouth. She pushes you into the wall, holds you there. You don't complain. Your hands find her hair, her hands find your waist. She kisses you ferociously, with an intensity you've never felt before. When she pulls away, your lips are chapped, bruised. Then the kisses get gentle again. Tender apologetic kisses against your swollen lips, across your eyelids and cheeks.

[slytherin-pen]

Season of Shadows

A/N: My first fanfic and specifically my first time writing on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy it. Feel free to comment suggestions or recommendations! I wrote this with an OC, but I love x reader fics too so I might give it a try in the future.

Ivy joined the Inner Circle six months ago, just before they went to war with Hybern. Now, a few weeks later, after wounds are healed, the Night Court is ready to celebrate their victory. All but one, one who thought everyone was blind to her fake smiles. She clearly underestimated the ever-observant Spymaster.

warnings: mentions of past death

pairing: azriel x oc

word count: 2.4k

all acotar related credits go to SJM

banner credit to @cafekitsune

The music at Rita’s reverberated in Ivy's ears as she observed her friends on the dance floor. Feyra, Rhys, Cassian, and Nesta moved sensually with their partners, while Mor attracted numerous admirers of both genders.

Ivy remained at their table alone nursing her third glass of wine. She wasn’t much of a drinker but taking a sip seemed to be her nervous tic at this point. Amren was spending the night with Varian, and Elain had stayed home as usual. Azriel had walked off to the bar shortly after the group's arrival. The Inner Circle had endured a lot. After the war with Hybern, several members suffered from significant injuries. Although wings and bones could be mended, the invisible scars often proved more challenging. This was Ivy’s current predicament. No amount of wine could erase the memory of witnessing her childhood best friend perish on the battlefield.

Hybern had infiltrated their village in the Spring Court, demanding the villagers either join them or die. Ivy had already left the village, following her now High Lady during her final escape from Spring. Ivy’s father, a guard for Tamlin, had been left to die for a High Lord who cared little for his people. When Ivy spotted Lucien and Feyra fleeing through the woods, she pleaded to join them, offering her powers in aid. She realized that to help her people, she needed to escape the Spring Court and align with those taking action.

Ivy’s ability to manipulate plants proved invaluable when, minutes after finding Lucien and Feyra, two Hybern soldiers emerged from the trees. Although she was not a fighter, she used the vines on nearby trees to restrain the soldiers, allowing Feyra to finish them off.

Now, as she sat in Rita’s, she reflected on every letter exchanged with Wells during Hybern’s reign over Spring, questioning when exactly she had failed him and her village. Upon joining the Inner Circle, Ivy had hoped to return and help her people, but she had not arrived in time. Wells had joined Hybern, believing it was the only way to save his family, but Hybern did not honor their agreement. Wells became a traitor in many eyes, dying in vain, and now his family and he were both gone.

Ivy could not share her grief openly. Not only was she the only one who knew Wells, but he was also deemed a traitor. Sympathy was scarce for those who had sided with the enemy. Her attempts to speak on his behalf were swiftly dismissed. Most believed that he should have died with honor alongside his family. It wasn’t that simple; he was just a kid, not a soldier. Her efforts felt futile, leaving her to mourn alone, bearing a heavy heart.

She slid out of the booth after finishing her wine. The two couples and Mor continued dancing as she made her way to the back door. She needed a moment to breathe. Being surrounded by joy while she crumbled inside was overwhelming. Stepping into the night, she took a sharp inhale, the chilled air biting her nose and cheeks, flushing her pale skin. A few paces from the bar, she sat on a bench facing a pathway through the town.

Ivy often distracted herself by imagining the lives of strangers based on their appearance. One couple that passed had clearly argued; the female stomped ahead while the male trailed behind, head down like a chastised child. Another woman seemed to have just finished work at a bakery, given her tired demeanor and the white powder on her shirt.

Just as Ivy began to analyze a passing man, she sensed a presence beside her. Azriel sat down, his shadows lingering near his shoulders, with a few tendrils curling around her feet. He remained silent, staring straight ahead. Ivy accepted his company and resumed her people-watching.

A few minutes passed before Azriel spoke. “He’s a farmer.”

Ivy turned towards him. “What?”

Azriel nodded towards an older man with mud-stained knees and a tan stopping at his short sleeves. “That man, I bet he’s a farmer.”

“Oh,” Ivy murmured. “How did you-”

“I’m the Spymaster,” Azriel replied, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “This isn’t the first time I’ve caught you.”

“Right,” Ivy said, wringing her hands together. Unlike Azriel's leathers, she wore a dress that ended at her knees and a thick wool cardigan. She still wasn’t accustomed to the Night Court’s weather. While it experienced all four seasons, unlike the Seasonal Courts, she thought she’d always miss eternal spring.

“Why are you out here instead of inside with the others?” he asked. His wings were tucked in, and Ivy swore she could see the moonlight streaming through the membrane. This, she thought, is a creature meant for the night.

“I just—” she took a deep breath, “needed a minute. It’s hard to hear your thoughts in there sometimes.”

“I understand,” he said. His hazel eyes searched her face. “Do you want to talk about it? I promise I’m the least likely in the Circle to interrupt you.”

Ivy chuckled at the jab at his more boisterous family members. “I’m sure you don’t want to hear it. No one else does.”

A shadow gently pushed strands of her blonde hair behind her pointed ear, giving Azriel a clearer view of her face. “Try me.”

She looked at him through her lashes and sighed. “My friend Wells. I miss him, or who he used to be, I suppose.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as if sifting through his memories. “The friend who joined Hybern?”

“Yes,” she said, a tear sliding down her face. “That friend. And honestly, Azriel, if you’re just going to tell me to forget about him or curse his grave, I really—”

Azriel took her hands, forcing her nails to release the skin they had been piercing in her tight grip. She could still feel the warmth through his leather gloves. “That’s not what I was going to say. Your friend faced a terrible choice. A choice that none of us have faced nor can we predict how we would’ve reacted. He was your friend, and you’re allowed to mourn him as such,” he said softly.

More tears clouded her blue eyes. “It doesn’t feel like it,” she rasped. “I visited our village a few days ago to see how the repairs were coming along.” Her gaze dropped to her hands still held in his, and he gave a comforting squeeze. “They wrote ‘traitors’ on the door in red paint, meant to look like blood, I’m sure. And the looks I got just for being there... I didn’t even dare try to clean any of it up.”

Azriel’s brows furrowed. “You went to Spring? With who?”

Ivy did not look up from their hands and bit her bottom lip instead.

One of Azriel's shadows crept under her chin, tilting her face towards him. His pupils flicked between her eyes before he asked incredulously, “You went alone, didn’t you?”

Ivy nodded, removing one of her hands from his grasp to wipe her tears with her knuckles. “I had no choice. Do you think if I asked, someone would’ve taken me? Your whole family hates the Spring Court.” Azriel clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to correct her. They are her family too now, but her not viewing them as such was just a small piece of the puzzle he planned to solve.

“I would have.” He grabbed her hand again and scooted closer until their thighs touched, the leather of his pants grazing her bare skin. “I would have gone with you. Crossing borders alone is dangerous, no matter who you are. Besides, I would have supported you. You didn’t need to do that alone, emotionally either.”

“I’ll remember that next time,” she sniffled.

“Would you like to go home? To the House of Wind, I mean. Everyone else will stay at the River House tonight. Depending on how you want to spend the rest of your night, we could raid Rhys’ wine cellar or ask the House for tea.”

Ivy smiled slightly at the offer. “I’d like to go home. And have tea. I’m putting on a brave face right now, but I rarely drink, and I am feeling it.”

Azriel chuckled as he stood, gently pulling her up with him. “Would you like to fly or winnow?”

Ivy looked up at the sky and then back to Azriel. “I’ve never flown with you before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he smirked. He guided her arm around his neck before lifting her, one hand looping under her thighs and the other around her torso. “Hold on tight.”

An hour later, Ivy and Azriel finished their second cup of chamomile tea, courtesy of the House. Azriel had changed into a black tunic and sleep pants, while Ivy had replaced her dress with a nightgown under her cardigan.

The fire in the hearth provided some warmth, but Ivy's fingers and toes remained slightly numb from the cold. Lucky Illyrian, she thought. They were built for this climate. Ivy felt like a snake trying to survive in an igloo. She had settled in front of the hearth with a blanket in her lap, while Azriel sat in the armchair to her left. Some of his shadows slithered across the floor, into her lap, and curled around her hands. As she lifted her hands to observe them, she realized they had formed into glove-like shapes over her fingers.

“Are you still cold?” Azriel asked. Ivy had half a mind to tell him he already knew the answer. He didn’t need to be the Spymaster or use his shadows to notice the shivers she was trying to conceal.

Ivy smiled sheepishly. “A little, but it’s alright. I’ve lived here for six months, and hypothermia hasn’t claimed me yet.”

Azriel smiled as he stood before sitting on the floor next to her. “Well, I’d like to keep it that way.” He stretched his legs out alongside hers, pulling some of the blanket over himself before curling his wings around them. “Better?”

The view of the rest of the room was blocked by his wings, trapping the heat from the fire and directing it back toward him and Ivy. She could barely suppress the shudder of pleasure at the newfound warmth. She hadn’t realized how much of it had been wasted filling the rest of the room. “Yes, thank you,” she replied with a small smile.

Azriel put an arm over her shoulder and pulled her closer. “It’s alright to miss your home, you know? Our family might not like Spring, and its High Lord even less, but we understand.”

Ivy sighed and played with a loose thread on the blanket. “I’d just rather not bring it up. Of course, I sympathize with what Feyre went through, not just the day I found her but before too. I just can’t stand to hear how they talk about it. The Spring I grew up in was nothing like she described, and now it’s all destroyed. It’s not like I could take everyone there now and show them how beautiful it was.”

Azriel was silent for a moment, pondering her words. She was right. The Inner Circle would never understand the beauty she claimed for the Spring Court, and with Tamlin as High Lord, they might never see it until someone else took over, which could take a millennium. “Cassian and I get into fights over Illyria sometimes.”

Ivy frowned as she faced the Shadowsinger. “About what?”

He shifted slightly and stared into the fire. “It’s no secret that Cass and I had our…misfortunes in the camps we called home. The difference now is Cassian still sees Illyria as his home. He still has hope it could be a better place someday.”

“And you don’t?”

Shaking his head, “No, I don’t.” Ivy reached over and grabbed his scarred hand, giving it a squeeze as he had for her. “Here is my home now. Rhys and Cass know that if I weren’t the Spymaster with duties requiring me to visit the camps, I’d never set foot in Illyria again. Aside from all the bad memories, the males don’t respect us, and they never will. It’s very difficult to change a place that sees you as dirt under their boots.”

Ivy fiddled with his scarred fingers in her lap. “So you and Cassian fought about what to do with the camps?”

“Not exactly,” he said, his shoulders slumping. “My point is that having disagreements about our homes is nothing new for us. Cassian and I see Illyria differently. Even Mor battles with herself about the Court of Nightmares. She hates her father and Hewn City, but it was still her home. No amount of hatred, even on her end, will change that. The same way none of our opinions about your home will change the fact that you grew up there. It will always have a piece of you.”

Her lips quivered before she turned her head away. “I wish I— I couldn’t help them in time. I left them alone thinking I was going to be some hero, we both did, and we both failed.” The tears rolling down her face reflected the flames in the hearth. “How am I any better than him? We both thought we were doing the right thing.” Instead of a shadow again, it was Azriel’s thumb that wiped her cheeks gently.

“And you weren’t wrong,” he whispered. “Just because things didn’t go as planned doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth trying. I have failed hundreds of missions in my lifetime. I don’t regret all of them. Some just didn’t go my way.”

“I regret this one,” she sobbed. “He’s dead. It’s all my fault!”

Azriel quickly brought her into his lap and tightened his wings around them. He cupped her face with his free hand as he spoke. “Ivy. Ivy, look at me.”

She continued to sob and gasp but looked at him nonetheless.

“It’s not your fault.” He rested his forehead on hers. “It’s not your fault. And I will take you to the Spring Court if that’s what you need. To help with repairs, say goodbye, pack— anything.”

“Thank you,” she rasped. “I appreciate that.” She attempted a small smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

Azriel smiled softly and kissed her head. “Why don’t we get you to bed? You’ll have a busy day tomorrow. You’re planning our itinerary.”

Ivy managed a laugh and nodded. Azriel easily stood with her in his arms and walked toward the stairs. “Thank you, Az. It means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he whispered as her head rested against his chest and her eyes closed.

[abigailnussbaum]

The Georgette Heyer Master List

Is it just me, or has Georgette Heyer kind of... gone away? Ten, maybe fifteen years ago, she was a name I'd hear quite often. Especially in the circles of science fiction and fantasy fandom that also overlapped with the avid readership of Jane Austen or Patrick O'Brian, she was often recommended as a sort of Austen methadone. Over at Tor.com, as it was then known, fantasy author Mari Ness did a whole season of reading through Heyer's voluminous back-catalogue. These days, even as romance writing—and especially Regency romance, the subgenre that Heyer arguably created—has gained enormous mainstream visibility, and as science fiction and fantasy romance has become its own wildly successful subgenre, Heyer seems to come up less and less. One might have expected the success of Bridgerton, for example, to inspire some film or TV adaptations of her books (it was, after all, the reason the Austen fanfic series Sanditon came back from being cancelled after its first season), but so far nothing.

This might be one of those cases where the answer is contained in the question. The reason fewer people are reading Heyer is that, although she more or less created Regency romance, there are so many people writing within it now that readers looking for something like Jane Austen, but not quite, have a lot of other options on offer. Which makes it easier to notice the problems with Heyer, or simply the ways in which her style has fallen out of fashion. There is no sex in her books (and no queerness, obviously), but there are poisonous sexual mores—all her heroes have had mistresses who are, quite obviously to them and everyone around them, not the sort of woman one marries, while her heroines, even at the moment of declaring their love to their HEA, feel obliged to "resist" any physical display of affection. Her books are rife with chauvinism, antisemitism, and most of all classism (and frankly, I think the only reason racism is absent is that everyone in these books is white), and while this is arguably more realistic than a lot of starry-eyed modern Regency romances, it is also a reflection of Heyer's own prejudices.

Still, I took in all those recommendations a decade or more ago, and while I may be slow I will usually get around to reading something if a lot of people tell me I should. In the last year I've ended up reading a lot of Heyer—mostly stuff I had in my enormous TBR, or found at a used bookstore, or at the local library, so there's not a lot of intentional choice happening here. I'm not here to say that Heyer is an overlooked gem. All those problems noted above are very much present in her writing, and in addition she has some favorite tropes that she goes back to again and again—in a mere twelve books, the plot strand in which one character is kidnapped across the channel to France, while another character pursues them, going deep into the logistics of finding them and catching them up, recurs a surprising number of times. But she's nevertheless a more interesting writer than I think is commonly acknowledged today, more likely to pay attention to the psychology of her characters (and not in the modern, sometimes quite exhausting, therapy-speak way), and more interested in her setting (Heyer also wrote historical fiction, and some of her romances shade into that genre). I dipped into some of Julia Quinn's Bridgerton novels this year as well, and I have to say, beyond the fact that Heyer is just a better writer, it's a bit more palatable to encounter nasty sexual politics in novels written in the 40s and 50s, than to have to accept that the implied threat of sexual violence is but a stepping stone to true love from a writer whose books were published only twenty years ago.

Below are some thoughts on the Heyer books I've read so far. I will add to them when and as I read new ones, though I think I will continue to leave the selection of those books to happenstance.

S-Tier

Cotillion (1953) - This is the first Heyer I ever read, and to an extent it has spoiled me for the rest of her writing by being such a high water mark. Kitty Charing has been informed by her guardian that she will be forced to marry one of his nephews, and instead decides to run off to the city to find her own match, with the help of gadabout Freddy. The two end up first pretending to be engaged, and then trying to throw Kitty in the path of eligible bachelors, while inevitably falling in love themselves. This is a great book first because it's extremely funny. Heyer had a great ear for the absurd slang of the fashionable London set, and gets a lot of mileage out of Kitty's cheerful refusal to let logic or common sense stop her, and Freddy's Regency himbo antics. More importantly—and rather rarely for Heyer's writing—Kitty and Freddy are true equals. They're both a bit silly and a lot sheltered, but also able to rise to the occasion when it's required, and they lock into each other's wavelength early in the novel and never let go. Inasmuch as they change each other, it's only in revealing that they are able to pull off audacious schemes when someone they care about needs them to, and you can imagine the two of them having a long, ridiculous partnership in crime for the rest of their lives.

Sylvester, or the Wicked Uncle (1957) - Informed that Lord Sylvester, who has a bad reputation that is only partly earned, is about to propose marriage to her, Phoebe runs off with her best friend Tom. When the two of them run into trouble on the road, they are rescued by none other than Sylvester, which throws him and Phoebe together for extended periods, with predictable results. This format—older, powerful man; younger, sheltered woman—is one that Heyer returns to quite often, but it works better here than in any other of her novels. Sylvester isn't cruel or a rake; he's arrogant and high-handed, though often with some justification (most of his bad reputation comes from his self-absorbed, thoughtless sister-in-law). Phoebe isn't a naif, but an intelligent woman with a hidden career as an author that she's quite devoted to. The two of them develop a compelling friendship long before they fall in love, rooted in the fact that they are often the smartest person in the room, and able to help each other steer a tricky situation towards calm waters. The twist that threatens their relationship—before meeting him, Phoebe wrote a novel in which the villain was a thinly-veiled version of Sylvester—is highly original, and the novel's final act, in which Sylvester must pursue Phoebe and his kidnapped nephew into France, is one of the most hilarious sequences I've ever read. By the time the two get together, it's obvious that they could only be happy with each other.

Good

False Colors (1963) - Returning from his diplomatic post abroad, Kit Fancot discovers that his twin brother Evelyn has disappeared, right before he was about to propose to Cressida Stavely. Persuaded by his mother to impersonate his twin for one night, Kit quickly finds himself hosting Cressida and a whole raft of other characters in his country home, while trying to keep up the charade and, of course, keep from falling in love with Cressida himself. This is a book that's interesting more for the background than the main romance—Kit and Cressida are quite sweet, but more because they're a point of calm amidst the chaos of all their relatives and friends. But it's that chaos—especially Kit's mother, an airheaded inveterate gambler whom Kit nevertheless adores— that is the real source of the novel's fun. The fact that Kit and Cressida are able to put all the various crises around them to rest is what convinces you that they will be a good couple, but it's not their further adventures that you'd like to follow.

Charity Girl (1970) - While visiting relatives, Ashley Desford encounters Charity Steane, the penniless ward of a family who are mistreating her. When Ashley later finds Charity running away, he convinces her to let him try to find her a respectable situation, and places her with his childhood friend Henrietta Silverdale. In any other novel you'd expect Ashley and Charity to fall in love (and indeed this is what several characters in the novel assume—when they're not assuming something more salacious). Instead, Ashley's efforts to untangle Charity's family situation, get the best of her odious relatives, and find a safe place for her are a method of throwing him in company with Henrietta, whom he has for years insisted is only a friend. It turns out that Ashley and Henrietta, having rebelled against their families' plan to marry them off at a too-young age, have been shame-facedly pretending that they haven't fallen in love for ten years, and it's only by becoming jointly responsible for Charity that they can work their way around this predicament. The stakes aren't particularly high, but the scenario is original enough (especially for Heyer) to make this a worthwhile read.

Interesting

These Old Shades (1926) - Infamous rake Justin Alastair encounters a runaway, Léon, on the streets of Paris and takes him in as his page. It doesn't take long to realize that Léon is actually Léonie, but the untangling of her convoluted family history—a tale of swapped babies, mistaken identities, and false heirs—is the business of much of the novel, during which, of course, Justin and Léonie also fall in love. The potboiler plot is quite fun, as is Léonie herself—having pretended to be a boy for years, she is at once indifferent to the mores she's expected to adopt as a respectable young lady, and immediately won over by fancy clothes and balls, which allows her to triumph over opponents in both high and low society. But this can't quite get around the problem that Justin is twice Léonie's age, and also a pretty bad person (the character previously appeared in The Black Moth (1921), where he was the villain, and a subplot in These Old Shades even throws Justin into the company a woman he had kidnapped in the previous book). Despite the force of Léonie's argument that she actually wants to be with Justin, this is a book better enjoyed for its rollicking, adventurous middle than its romantic conclusion.

An Infamous Army (1937) - Heyer was simply mad for the Napoleonic wars, and this is one of several books she wrote set in and around them. As aristocrats and officers await the arrival of Napoleon's army in Brussels, Colonel Charles Audley encounters Lady Barbara Childe, a widow with a scandalous reputation. The two feel an instant, powerful attraction, but end up having to navigate Barbara's habit of playing games with her suitors, and Charles's impatience with them, before the battle of Waterloo erupts and forces them both to confront more pressing issues while also realizing the depth of their feelings for each other. It's nice to have a central couple who are older, more experienced people, but An Infamous Army steps away from Charles and Barbara quite often. Sometimes this is quite interesting—the absurdity of 18th century warfare, with Wellington throwing balls for the who's who gathered in Brussels while everyone debates when to flee the city—and at other points quite tedious—several subplots in which Charles's extended family play forgettable matchmaking games. In the end, however, Heyer's interest is in Waterloo itself, with the novel culminating in an 80-page, blow-by-blow description of the battle. This can sometimes be quite moving, when it captures the sheer extent of the carnage, or the confusion of individual officers. But mostly it's just descriptions of military tactics, which is not what I signed up for when I picked up a Regency romance. By the time Charles and Barbara find their way back to each other, you'll mostly be feeling exhausted rather than overjoyed.

A Civil Contract (1961) - Adam Deveril is called home from the peninsula by the news that his father, a viscount, has died, and that the family finances are in such dire straits that Adam may be forced to sell their ancestral estate. The only solution, Adam is quickly made to realize, is for him to marry rich, to which end he's introduced to Jenny Chawleigh, the daughter of a fantastically rich but boorish merchant. In most books we'd expect Adam and Jenny to fall in love, and it takes a while to realize that this is not going to happen. Adam continues to think wistfully about Julia, the woman he had been attached to before his finances made the idea of proposing to her impossible, and the narrative is at pains to point out that he doesn't feel any attraction towards Jenny. What A Civil Contract is about, instead, is class relations. The complicated push and pull between Adam and Jenny's father Jonathan as they negotiate one's social position, and the other's wealth; the delicate negotiations between Adam and Jenny as she learns to understand the importance of tradition to him, and he realizes that she is actually capable of being a great viscountess if he just trusts her a little. The whole thing is a lot more Edith Wharton than Jane Austen, with some great scenes in which Adam is torn between genuine appreciation of Jonathan's energy and intelligence, and disgust at his determination to tear down everything old and replace it with whatever is newest and most expensive. In the end, however, it's all a bit too bleak, and Heyer doesn't quite have the courage to let us sit with that. She tries to assure us that Adam and Jenny have found a genuine partner in each other, and that this, too, is a form of love, but this is not very convincing. In the hands of another author, A Civil Contract would have been the half-tragedy it actually is.

Meh

The Convenient Marriage (1934) - Intending to propose to the eldest Winwood sister, who is already in love with someone else, the Earl of Rule is persuaded, by her younger sister Horatia, to marry her instead. That's basically the story—a marriage of convenience for both parties that turns into a romance. But while in other books Heyer has made a meal of this premise, The Convenient Marriage never convinces you of either its lovers being especially suited to each other, or the rather thin obstacles it places in their path. There are some interesting worldbuilding details—some information about how the invitations to Almack's used to work, or about the mechanics and norms of duel-fighting. And towards the end, there are some good scenes in which Horatia has to outsmart a kidnapper, or her brother has to arrange a highway robbery to retrieve a stolen jewel that might destroy her reputation. But ultimately, the fact that this is all in service of a couple who aren't particularly engaging (and whose age difference—35 and 17—is hard to get over) makes the whole thing a bit of a slog.

Cousin Kate (1968) - Kate Malvern is at the end of her rope, having been chased off yet another governess position by an employer with wandering hands, when a long-lost aunt invites her to visit her country home. When Kate arrives, she soon realizes that her aunt Minerva plans to pressure her to marry her cousin Torquil, and that there are secrets in the estate and the family that are being kept from her. This is Heyer working in the Gothic mode, complete with an isolated great house, a young woman being manipulated and lied to, and a dreadful family secret. It's reasonably well done for what it is, but there were better authors than Heyer working in the Gothic mode—by 1968 you could have read something like Mary Stewart's The Ivy Tree (1961) or Nine Coaches Waiting (1958), both of which do much more interesting, innovative things with the Gothic form than Heyer is even attempting. Finally, there is the fact that the dark secret being kept from Kate has to do with mental illness, whose handling is as tragic and sensationalized as you might expect from this author and era.

Yikes

Devil’s Cub (1932) - The sequel to These Old Shades, this book centers on Justin and Léonie's son Vidal, who has all of his parents' faults and none of their charms. After killing a man in a duel, he schemes to run off with a silly middle class girl, whom he of course feels no compunction about ruining. When her sister Mary takes her place, Vidal is shocked to realize that he has compromised a "respectable" woman, and tries to convince her to marry him. There are further twists, but none of them can get around the fact that the main character of this book is odious, and that the supposed love story between him and the girl he has kidnapped and ruined is highly unconvincing. Not helping matters is that an older Léonie periodically appears to explain that her son has done nothing wrong and that marrying Mary will obviously be the best thing for him, which frankly feels too much like the voice of the author for comfort.

The Spanish Bride (1940) - Based on the real experiences of Captain Harry Smith and his Spanish war bride Juana, this is another novel deeply rooted in the minutiae of the Napoleonic wars, beginning on the peninsula and culminating, of course, in Waterloo. In itself this might simply be boring, but right off the bat we get a scene in which Harry and other officers stand back while their soldiers, enraged after the bloody siege of Badajoz, murder and rape their way through the town for several days. Harry's marriage to Juana is arranged in the wake of this atrocity as a means of protecting her, despite her being only fourteen years old. The rest of the novel is spent careening between detailed descriptions of various battles, and cutesy interludes between Harry and Juana as they settle into their marriage—Harry often exasperated by Juana's stubbornness and emotional outbursts (I don't know, man; if you didn't want a wife who behaves like a child, maybe you shouldn't have married a child); Juana almost slavishly devoted to him but also prone to jealousy and anxiety. (Harry Smith left copious journals so one assumes his side of the story is fairly realistic; Juana Smith's feelings on the whole matter are, as far as I know, lost to history.) The whole thing is alternately boring and gross.

The Grand Sophy (1950) - Charles Rivenhall is informed that his family will play host to their cousin Sophy, whose diplomat father is being sent abroad. Accustomed to keeping house for her father, Sophy quickly takes over the Rivenhall household, rearranging her cousins' financial and romantic lives while a stunned Charles is at first outraged, and then won over. This is a solid premise, but the execution is appalling. Sophy is a bulldozer who interferes in people's lives not because she cares about them but because she always thinks she knows better, and eventually she comes to feel more like a bully than a savior. That Charles is attracted to these qualities might be taken as a defensive trauma response (or, in the hands of a more open-minded author, a kinky tendency), but at no point did I even begin to believe that Sophy had any romantic interest in him (there are a number of Heyer characters who would make a lot more sense if they were queer, but Sophy, in particular, is so clearly a lesbian that the very idea of her happily married to a man breaks one's brain). Adding insult to injury is a lengthy sequence in which Sophy "defeats" an odious Jewish moneylender—read, a collection of poisonous antisemitic stereotypes in human form—whom her cousin has borrowed money from and who, completely unreasonably, expects to be paid back until Sophy threatens him with a gun. I will no doubt ruffle some feather by placing this book—generally held to be one of Heyer's best—so low, but reading it nearly put me off her for life. 

[mrs-toohot]

Honestly bestie I'm pretty distraught after this week's episode 😭. WHAT DO YOU MEAN ITS YOUR 6 MONTH ANNIVERSARY. WHAT WAS ALL THIS FOR THEN. WHY COULDN'T YOU JUST BE HONEST. HOW AM I MEANT TO CONTINUE THIS RELATIONSHIP?!!!! 😞

Jirayu wtfff. Like unless you get on your hands and knees begging for forgiveness, I'm not sure I can forgive like why do I have to have bad taste 😭😭😭

OKAY. SO HEAR ME OUT BECAUSE I HAVE A BIT OF A HOT TAKE ON THIS

I... actually fucking love this.

How on earth are you guys mad about this?

On every other route, as well as I understand, Jirayu and Carmen are secretly dating and have been for the past six months.

But correct me if I'm wrong, on a Jirayu route, he breaks up with her and she basically goes scorched earth and is like "Well I'm gonna fuck up your whole life the way you fucked up mine."

So what you're telling me is that he and his girlfriend concocted a plan to go on Too Hot to Handle, win the money, and fuck off with it into the sunset,

BUT HE FELL FOR YOU FOR REAL AND NOW HE WANTS OUT OF THE PLAN?!?!?!?!

HOW ARE YOU GUYS NOT LOVING THIS?!!!?!?!??!?!?!?!?!?!??!

I'M FUCKING LOVING THIS AND I'M NOT EVEN ON HIS ROUTE!!!!!! I AM SWOONING SO HARD I'M GONNA FALL OVER!!!!

There is nothing better than a dastardly lil plot being completely laid to waste by someone falling for the person they absolutely under no circumstances were supposed to fall for.

Like, is that not absolutely, positively, fnjsdalfdsjakgdsakjhv?????!!!??!?!?!?!?!? It's not so 🥰🥰🥰🥰 that it just 😭😭😭😭😭😭??????

JIRAYU IS THE BEST LOVE INTEREST OF THE SEASON AND I'M NOT EVEN PLAYING HIS ROUTE BUT YOU KNOW WHAT I'M GONNA FUKCING START

because the FANFICTION FODDER

THE

FANFICTION

FODDER

FOR THIS ROUTE

IT WAS HANDED TO FANFIC WRITERS ON A GOLDEN PLATTER FOR WRITING HIS POINT OF VIEW!!!!!!

THE ANXIETY AND THE HEARTBREAKING LOSS WHEN HE REALISES HE MIGHT BE ABOUT TO LOSE THE GIRL HE'S FALLEN HEAD OVER HEELS FOR OVER MISTAKES HE MADE BEFORE HE EVEN MET HER BUT HE'S CHANGED AND HE WANTS TO TELL HER BUT HE'S TERRIFIED THAT TELLING HER THE TRUTH WILL MEAN HE'LL LOSE HER FOREEEVVVVEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR

10/10 plot twist nanobit.

Ten out of fucking ten.

[quinnyundertow]

Goalies Turn

A JJK Kick-Off Fanfic/Soccer AU Choso x Reader

AN: I am absolutely obsessed with @celestie0 amazing JJK Soccer AU fanfic "Kick-Off". I adore the way she writes Choso in it; the teams Goalie. As a result with her permission I have written a one shot fanfic...for her fanfic. LMAO. This y/n is NOT the leading lady of Kick Off. Thank you Ellie for making up this amazing world and letting me play around in it!

Choso Kamo x Reader One Shot. Fluff, Comedy, Smut.

Something about feeling the turf underneath your feet without the support of your cleats was incredibly bittersweet. You adjust the binders in your hands as you walk down the sidelines. The early morning sun is just starting to evaporate last night's dew. The University of Tokyo’s men’s D1 soccer team is in high gear despite the early hour. They are performing suicide runs; their cleats eating up the turf. The sweat running down temples and rolling down backs. 

The back of your calves twitch in anticipation of the thought of joining them. At this hour you would normally be with your girls, catching their practice goal kicks. Your thick goalie gloves snatching speeding soccer balls out of the air before launching them across the field with swift kicks. The unreleased energy running through you is driving you mad. You’ll need to go on a run after this to help relieve the excess.

You reach Coach Yaga, his yappy Pomeranian giving you an attitude as you stop next to him. Yaga gives you a nod before focusing back on his players. “PICK UP YOUR FEET GOJO!” Your ears ring from the sudden bellowing next to you. It takes seconds for you to dial into that mop of white hair on the field. Star player Gojo Satoru is massive but somehow lithe; his muscles bulging as he runs to catch up with an offside ball. His physique is comparable to a statue of a Greek God. It’s too bad you heard his personality is also Greek God worthy; capricious, licentious and cocksure.

“That damn girl needs to get off my sidelines if she can’t stop distracting my players.”

You glance at the “girl” in question. She’s a professional looking young woman your age who you’ve seen around campus before. She’s crouching a respectful distance from the team on the sidelines taking photographs of the players at work. Good to see sexism is alive and well. “Yeah, I can’t believe she has the audacity to be at a professional distance while not using flash in order to be as unobtrusive as possible.”

Yaga shoots you a look that clearly says he’s not amused with your sass, “Keep taking notes on our play style like you did last practice. Fresh eyes can give insight that might be missed otherwise.” He ends his sentence with the wave of a dismissive hand in your direction. 

Dumping the binders on Yaga’s bench you pick up a clipboard and find a good spot on the sidelines to observe. Despite being on the University of Tokyo’s women’s D1 soccer team you aren’t very familiar with the men’s team. During the season you were training to chase your own championship dreams. After last week's defeat, and your dreams for this year crushed, you had volunteered to assist the men’s team in preparing for their own race to the top. It was that or take a three week break before practices started again and sitting in your dorm all day sounded like a personal hell after the rigor of these last months.

“YOU'RE LATE AGAIN KAMO! YOU’RE STAYING LATE TO RUN LAPS! NOW GET YOUR ASS IN THE GOAL!” You wince at Yaga’s screaming. 

“Yeah, yeah.” A lazy voice responds still sounding groggy from sleep. The guy Coach Yaga is talking to is tying his long hair up into a low bun as he strolls over to the goal. Yaga’s yelling clearly did not light a fire under Kamo’s ass like he wanted. 

Choso Kamo, 5’11, solid build, wide shoulders with a tapered waist, impressive reach, and massive hands. He tended to be a little slow, especially at the beginning of a match, but once he got warmed up he was a force to be reckoned with. It was almost impossible to score on him in the last half of a game. You were up until three AM last night watching youtube compilations of his best saves over the season. He was good, great even. Which is why it pissed you off so much that every day you were here shadowing he showed up late and slacked off half the practice. 

He sits on the ground in his goal area tying his cleats and putting on his gloves. A loud swish of the net is heard as Suguru Geto launches a ball past Kamo’s head just barely missing making contact.

Choso shoots an unamused look at Geto before flipping him the middle finger. When he finishes fixing his gloves, flexing to make sure they are tight enough, he mumbles. “Alright, go ahead.”

You're watching Nanami Kento, the midfielder, line up shots for practice penalty kicks when you feel a pair of eyes on you. Turning you meet a set of dark orbs watching you. You meet Choso’s gaze head on but are unable to decipher what exactly he’s thinking. He just looks exhausted. Why the hell is he staring at you like that? This isn’t the first time you’ve caught him staring at you over the last three days of your volunteer work. It’s not like he’s checking you out since he’s making prolonged awkward eye contact and he couldn’t look more disinterested. Did he recognize you from the women’s team? You doubted it. Women’s soccer was notoriously underrated and underfunded. The idea of the men’s team players watching you play was delusional at best.

His eyes are locked on you when a speeding ball kicked by Nanami slams him in the gut. There are a few “Ohhhhh” sounds from other players as Kamo groans, doubling over in pain. You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected blow landing. Your hand goes up to cover your mouth when you realize your laugh was a little too loud and a few people are looking at you incredulously. Oh please, getting hit is part of being a goalie. You can’t help but grin and jibe, “Come on Kamo, I’ve seen middle school kids take hits better!” 

You hear him mutter something under his breath followed by a clear, “Shit.” as Satoru Gojo laughs obnoxiously in the background.

“CHOSO WATCH THE FIELD NOT THE SIDELINE DISTRACTIONS!” Coach Yaga’s yell causes you to blush a little at his implying it’s your fault in him getting nailed.

As Choso stands he pins you with a heated look, his onyx eyes raking over you before turning back to the field, his demeanor serious for the remainder of practice.

~~

You're standing next to Coach Yaga reading your notes to him as he buckles his pomeranian into the front passenger seat. He doesn’t seem to actually be listening to you but you aren’t in the mood to type it all up and email it to him later tonight. 

Yaga’s car is the last one in the parking lot other than your own. You had both stayed late reviewing plays while the majority of the team went out for food and Choso begrudgingly started his late to practice laps. “So I think if you have Nanami focus on his-”

“SHIT!”  You jump in surprise as your review is interrupted by a heated yell from Yaga. He pulls a binder out of his back seat. He stares at his watch before cursing some more, “I need to leave now. Can you take this and put it in my office and then lock it up?” 

You can't help but frown and sigh as you take the key he is holding out to you. “Alright.”

He nods before getting in and starting up his car, “Thanks, bring the keys back tomorrow morning before practice. Oh, and email me those notes you took today.” 

The smile you give him is more of a grimace as he drives off without further comment. “Asshole…” you mutter under your breath as you start the trek back to the men’s locker room. Maybe you shouldn’t have volunteered to help out the men’s team. You hadn’t been ready to leave the field behind for the season yet but this wasn’t what you imagined when they asked for an assist.

You walked into the men’s locker room noting the main door was already unlocked. Yaga wants you to lock up but he couldn’t even manage to. You can’t help but wrinkle your nose a little at the smells emanating from the main locker area, especially from the questionable hamper full of dirty towels. 

Sighing you think, If this locker room is a mirror image of the womens, Yaga’s office will be in the back left corner. Heading in that direction it isn’t until you see Yaga’s office that you register a single shower is running in the background. You are so used to hearing showers run in the girls locker room that you didn’t even register the sound as unusual. You look towards the hallway of lined showers knowing that each shower cubicle has a shower curtain pulled across it obstructing any outsider’s view. 

That has to be Kamo. You thought he had left already but clearly that was not the case. You can’t help but reflexively bite your bottom lip. Mind thinking about his gleaming pale skin with rivulets of water racing down his hard muscles. You feel thirsty at the thought but shake your head scolding yourself. The man is just trying to clean up after his workout and you’re out here like a damn voyeur salivating over nothing. You quickly cross in front of the shower room to unlock Yaga’s office. You just need to be quiet, drop the binder off and then wait outside till Kamo is done so you can lock up. Simple. 

After placing the binder, you exit the office, your hands fumbling and dropping the keys. Cursing under your breath you bend to pick them up but forget the office door is weighted. You jump in surprise when it slams shut loudly. The noise echoes through the locker room. So much for being quiet, you pick the keys up in a hurry deciding to book it to the exit when a voice stops you, “Hey, can you pass me my conditioner!? I’m an idiot and left it by my locker.” You freeze staring at the shower area before turning to look at the lockers. A wooden bench towards the back has a bottle of high quality conditioner and a fluffy white towel folded on it. Did he really forget his towel too? What was with this guy?

You sigh, deciding to grab his conditioner and towel for him. You would just leave it right by the shower door and he would be none the wiser who did it. Problem solved. Picking up the items you read the label on the way back to the shower room. Damn this was like thirty dollars a bottle. Okay Kamo, I see you. You can’t resist flicking the bottle open and taking a quick whiff; the scent is sweet with a hint of coconut. You can’t help but blush as you shut the bottle again. You shouldn’t have done that. You don’t need to know what Kamo smells like.

You approach the shower area and he must have heard your sneakers because he’s talking to you again, “Thanks can you just put it where I can reach. I was dreading having to run out and freeze my ass off.” He’s talking so casually, he must assume you are one of his teammates who forgot something.

You swallow the lump in your throat. Approaching, you decide to hang the clean towel over the top of the curtain rod so that he has it when he finishes. You gently lay it over the top, careful to place it where you normally would your own, so that it doesn’t get wet from the incoming stream of water. You hear a note of surprise in his voice as he registers the towel thrown over the top. “Dude, thanks, you're the best. I knew I forgot something else.” 

You're flushing heavily at the casual way he’s speaking to you. You need to get out. Leaning over you slip the bottle of conditioner into the corner of the shower, your fingers just barely pushing it around the plastic curtain so he can grab it. Mission accomplished. You release the bottle and go to stand fully when a large wet hand grabs your own. He must have noticed your feminine fingers. The squeak that leaves your throat is terrified as you try to pull away in shock. The shower curtain rustles as it’s pushed a few inches open from the inside and Choso Kamo is blinking at you in surprise. Even though he’s the one holding onto you he looks shocked at you being there, “L/n, F/n?”

God he looks divine. His hair is down and wet, the strands in the front come to just above his eyes while the remaining dark locks rest on his shoulders blades. You’ve never been this close to him before and the prominent scar across his nose draws your eyes briefly. You note his chiseled jaw and the way his Adam's apple bobs on his thick muscular neck when he swallows. 

You’re panicking, hand pulling away from him in quick tugs but his fingers are looped easily around your wrist. The pressure is minimal but his grip is a goalie’s vise, “I-I’m sorry. Yaga asked me to lock up and then you asked for conditioner so-” your vision flies to his hold on your wrist. His hands are calloused and rugged like your own; the veins running up them cause a heat to rush down you. His one hand dwarfs your own and looking up from them your panicked eyes meet his still confused ones, “Please let me go!”

It’s almost like he just now registers he’s holding you there. “Oh.” He releases you immediately, his face turning a shade of bright red. “Sorry!” You yank your hand from his stepping back and rubbing it reflexively. He looks worried as he steps forward towards you, his chest coming out from behind the curtain, only his lower half is obscured now, “Did I hurt you?”

Dear God. If you thought he was beautiful before… He’s stunning, your mouth dries up completely as your eyes scan down his body. His pecs are massive and while he isn’t sculpted like a bodybuilder he has this thickness to his physique that lets you know he is all strength and dexterity under his light layer of fat. His v-cut is prominent and a smattering of dark black hair travels down to hide behind the curtain. You realize you're staring and he isn’t in any hurry to cover himself up.

After a long silence his voice is deeper than normal and a little husky when he speaks, his earlier question forgotten, “You’re going to make me blush.”

You flush heavily, your eyes going up to meet his own. You clench your legs together feeling a familiar desire rolling through you. An itch you haven’t scratched since before the soccer season began. “I’m sorry, you have a nice body.”

His breath catches when your eyes meet his. There’s desire written in them and he feels himself becoming hard. He lets out a groan when you apologize, “God don’t apologize, fuck. I’ve been trying to find an excuse to talk to you for months. You’re stunning.” His eyes are burning into your own with unmasked wanting. He adjusts the shower curtain and your eyes lower to see a very thick erection pressing against it. 

You don’t even register when your tongue slides against your lips as desire pools in your nether regions. “Months?” He watches you push your legs together trying to make some friction to help with the escalating arousal you are feeling.

“I-I watch all your games.” He replies a little hoarsely and your gaze shoots up to him in surprise. 

You blink in confusion, “You should have just said Hi.”

He swallows before he mumbles out, “Hi.”

You can’t help but laugh at that and he gives an awkward chuckle in response. There’s a hot naked man in front of you who wants you and you haven’t had a good fuck in a long time. Your blood is pulsing straight to your throbbing pussy at this point. Fortune favors the bold right? Your eyes dip down to his erection still barely covered, “You want help with that?” 

He groans, “Fuck, yes.” He releases the curtain and it slides to the side. His beautiful cock on display for you. He’s cut, average in length but girthy with a delicious curve. A mesmerizing vein runs up the bottom of it. The tip is flushed a bright red with precum and water dripping off his shaft. “Join me?”

He didn’t have to ask you twice. You kick off your shoes and socks. Your shirt is above your head in moments then you shimmy down your skin tight athletic pants. Not wasting any time you remove your bra and panties and move to join him. You pull the shower curtain open and wrap it behind you, hiding you from anyone’s potential sight but his. It’s like a totally new environment once you're inside the small cube. The air is hot and misty as the water sprays Choso’s back. Droplets fly through the air and land on you sporadically. 

“I have to be dreaming…” he murmurs, his eyes going up and down your body. “That’s the only way this could be happening.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that. “Are you just going to stand there or are you going to kiss me?” 

His warm wet body is pressed against your own in moments. Lips crashing against one another in a battle for dominance where neither party cares if they win. His one arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you against him while his other cups your cheek gently. The kisses are intense and needy. All your nerve endings are on fire as his tongue traces the seam of your lips asking for entry. You open your mouth hungrily granting it access; your own tongue eager to meet his.

You feel Choso’s erection pressing against your stomach. Before you can reach down and touch it his hands go to take your own. You blink in surprise as he holds both your wrists in one hand. “I can’t let you do that.”  He chokes out before kissing up your jaw. “I’ll cum before I get inside you.” 

Before you can protest his free hand begins palming one breast and then the other. His fingers lightly pinching and massaging your nipples causing shivers to ripple down you. A moan escapes your lips, as his head dips down to take your breast into his mouth. He suckles you for a moment before using his tongue to tease your nipple. “Kamo..” you keen when his mouth releases you with an audible pop. A trail of spit briefly leading from your breast to his mouth.

“Call me Choso, say my name.” He moans taking your neglected breast into his warm mouth, his sucks and teasing motions stoke your flames of desire. 

A hard suck makes you oblige him, his name falling from your lips in a gasp, “Fuck, Choso.” The heat and humidity alongside his scorching touches have you lost in sensations. You don’t even register when he releases his mouth from your tits and is back to kissing you dumb against the tiled wall. “Can I eat you out?” He rasps out between fevered sucks on your neck and chest.

“Yes, but I want you inside me.” You whimper out. The curtain of the shower briefly opens from your movements, sending a wave of chilled air over you. Skin pebbling in response, it grants a brief relief to the overwhelming heat.

Choso wastes no time after your acquiesce. He’s on his knees looking up at you, his pupils blown with desire, “I’ve cum to the idea of this so many times.. and it doesn’t even hold a candle in comparison.” That’s all the warning you get before he leans forward one strong hand on your hip the other bringing your right leg up to hook over his shoulder. His lips are on you kissing your inner thighs, light bites and sucks move to the tender flesh of your vulva. You're crying out his name when he finally decides to lick a stripe up the center of your cunt. His tongue lapping up the sweetness of your essence. You feel him groan against you, the vibrations making you whine. His tongue is dipping into your core leaving teasing strokes inside you. His nose bumping against your clit as he nudges against you needily.

Your fingers find and twist into his hair. Holding him close to you despite the fact that he has no intention of leaving. You feel yourself getting closer to release the tightness forming in your belly. “Cho- I want you inside me. I’m gonna, fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Wanna taste it.” He mumbles petulantly as he leans back a little to see your half lidded eyes watching him. 

“Choso, let me cum on your cock.” 

Your dirty words make him groan, “God where have you been all my life, fuck.” He lowers your leg gently, watching the way your chest is heaving trying to catch your breath.

Choso stands, ready to devour you when he suddenly deadpans, “Fuck.. need a condom.” Before you can register what he even said his naked ass is out of the shower and running towards the locker area. You lean out the curtain in surprise seeing him open various players' lockers before finally finding one and muttering, “I owe you one Gojo.”  He’s rushing back over like you might change your mind. You're watching his erection bounce as he enters the shower room again. He’s biting the condom wrapper open and putting it on his length when he hits a slippery patch and almost wipes out. 

The shocked and confused look on his face as he almost falls on his ass is enough to have you doubled over laughing. This was by far the weirdest hookup you’d ever had and you were enjoying the hell out of it. 

“Shit!” He bites out going to enter the shower again. The water he left while exiting makes him slide precariously as he grabs the curtain for support. Your eyes widen as he pulls and the entire curtain rod falls with a crash Choso hitting the ground this time. 

You can’t help it, you're crying laughing as he looks up at you soaked and wrapped in the broken curtain. “Choso, what the fuck?” You can’t catch your breath and your sides hurt from laughing. 

He was looking up at you in disappointment but the more you laughed the more he couldn’t help but smile in return. His own deeper chuckle echoing, “I really fucked that up.”

You're wiping your eyes, you can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard. You hold out your hand to help him up as he untangles himself. 

The sexual mood is broken, he’s flaccid and his ass is throbbing in pain from him landing on it. He stands next to you totally embarrassed but you're not even laughing at him, just the absurdity of the situation. When his sheepish gaze meets yours you give him a grin pulling him back under the water. “Shower sex is not as easy as they make it out to be.” You tease leaning forward to peck the corner of his lips before tapping his shoulder and indicate he should turn his back to you. “Let me condition your hair.”

He nods, turning. His embarrassment slowly fades as you gently massage his conditioner into his hair. The domesticity of the gesture makes his heart clench with want. You are so much more than anything he could have imagined. He wants to learn everything about you and have you beside him from now on. He just hopes he didn’t ruin it with this botched hook up. 

You’re finishing up rinsing his hair when he mumbles out, “I really want to see you again even though this…” his words fade off. He can’t see the smile you are giving his back as he continues, “What are you doing this evening?”

You wait until he turns to look at you, a mischievous look on your face, “I was hoping you.”

[yawnderu]

Stray - Chapter II

Author's note: not a lot happening here, just pushing this chapter out of my drafts before I start writing about the MW3 campaign. Sobbed for 4 hours about the fanfic in my head after seeing spoilers💀 No spoilers in this chapter, future chapters will be tagged accordingly and having a warning so you don't get spoiled either.

''Focus.'' Ghost's British accent rung in your earpiece, his deep voice barely above a whisper as you took overwatch with a sniper rifle. He didn't have the heart to tell you he could hear your fast, hard breathing on the comms, memories of the past flooding all over while your brain is stuck visiting people who are still alive in the graveyard of your heart.

''Enemy down, LT.'' You whispered as you took down an enemy guard, your focus on the scope not faltering until you saw the body dropping, blood quickly pooling up around their body before your attention was taken by movement in the distance, immediately using the scope to see better. You could easily make out the shape of another sniper, the camouflage outdated for the season accompanied by movement, yet it didn't seem they could see you yet.

''Spotted an enemy.'' You mutter in comms, keeping them open in case you had to run or took a shot. Ghost mutters a soft ''roger'' on the line and you line up the scope to take a perfect shot, easily finding the enemy sniper's head, who isn't even looking into their scope. You take a deep breath, relaxing your body before your finger pulls the trigger, the slight recoil hitting your body, yet you're still looking to confirm the kill.

''Moving.'' You don't wait for further comms before grabbing your equipment, tactical camouflage draped over your body as you swiftly run around, laying on your stomach and examining the area. It was an easy mission— gather intel and go, the barely secured safehouse making it easier for Ghost and you to complete this and go home.

You scan the area, eyes fully focused on the surroundings, looking for any possible movement. You saw none, though you were still highly alert, focusing on making sure your Lieutenant makes it out alive. It doesn't take long before he gathers the intel and you rendezvous at the helipad, your gloved fist raised slightly as you both settle in, his bumping yours after a few seconds of staring.

You lean closer to Ghost, speaking loudly over the rumbling sound of the blades."You think we'll take down Makarov?" He gives you a side eye for a second before turning his face towards yours, hesitantly nodding.

"We got plenty of good soldiers on our side, luv. There's always a risk, but..." He seems hesitant to answer, knowing he can lay his emotions bare to you, but refusing to do so.

"'M not sure." He finally replies and you simply nod, leaning back on your seat while you look at the background get smaller the higher you go. You both know Makarov is the ultimate threat. The kingfish. A man so deadly who has no hesitation on killing people, over 30.000 deaths caused by him, and truth to be told, you're all scared you'll join the growing number.

"Bonnie!" Soap says once he's back to base, arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you up in the air and spins you, a ritual that started out as a joke whenever you both came back from missions without the other. After over a year of knowing these men and being stationed with them for so long, you eventually develop routines together, no matter how extra and annoying they might seem.

"Played rough with the Russians?" He asked with a cheeky smirk, arm wrapped around your shoulder as you walked back to the barracks. Ghost disappeared the moment you got back, likely to unwind and have some time alone before being practically forced by all of you to go to a bar. He knows the invitation is coming.

"Not many around— Ghost did all the dirty work down there." You shrug, arm wrapped around his waist as you walk, trying your best to ignore the way his toned muscles feel over your fingers. No. Soap is like a brother to you. At least, you've been telling yourself that for the past year or so.

"Sounds like him." He seems more relaxed now, the slight nervousness he gets whenever you or Ghost go on missions without him or more reinforcements slowly dissipating, giving him room to simply enjoy himself. And enjoy himself he will, knowing Price, Gaz and him will force Ghost and you to go to a new bar near base in a few hours.

"Ya should go shower." You raise an eyebrow and look up at him, hesitantly smelling your armpit to make sure you don't smell after hours on the field, laying still in dirt and under the sun. You don't even smell that bad.

"Asshole." Soap finally lets go of you with a laugh, narrowly missing a sharp kick thrown his way, running away like the coward he is.